《Heaven and Hellfire Compiled》


 Prologue: The Tomb

    "Wake up, dear. We have things to do."


    Light was scarce. Dark was everywhere.


    A man opened his eyes for the first time in ages and could see nothing within the bleak surroundings. And in them, he felt only utter desolation. He was lying on what felt like marble, cold to the touch, and wondered how long he had lain in near death? The question bothered him as he stepped off the marble. He set one bare foot down onto slippery flagstones.


    Even as he did, he heard whispers from the edge of the darkness. There were voices from eldritch things he could not perceive. Would he know them if he looked upon them and feared them no more? Or would his terror grow, as what little more could be known of them only grew their shadow?


    His sight returned to see almost nothing at all in the shadows. Yet he could see evidence of ancient Harlenorian stonework. The air here was musty and old and filled with heaviness. It made breathing difficult. The man could remember very little, only that he''d fought a dark figure with gleaming blue eyes. It had been a terrible struggle, he thought. He had not fallen there but instead lingered on for a time. The thought wasn''t reassuring, and his feet stumbled as he walked. Finally, consciousness returned, and realization dawned.


    "I am not dead." His voice spoke the thought, and he noticed, he did not even recognize it. Had he been dead? Was that why he could not remember anything?


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    Where was he? Did it even matter where he was or when he was? This place seemed beyond time or space, a singular moment echoing through eternity. Just as the actions of each person in the tapestries of fate reflected.


    In his hand was a long black sword, gleaming with a red light, the only reason he could see. What concerned him more was that he was shirtless. It was freezing in this place, and he shuddered. He''d have to find warmth. Then, finally, a semblance of memory returned to him. He raised the Black Sword, muttering an incantation of power under his breath. As soon as he spoke, the sword burst into a red flame, and his arms and chest felt the heat. The fire illuminated a sizeable round chamber with crimson light. The dust was swept away, and no moss could be perceived on the black flagstones, though it was wet.


    Gazing over the walls and ceilings, the man observed many images painted over the walls. Armies marched across a river as great battles were waged for glory and honor. Friends bled out their life upon the fields and returned in a monstrous new form. All were in elaborate detail. There were long journeys stretching across oceans and over mountains.


    Over time, he realized that he was looking at many interconnected stories. Many people were in multiple tales, but one figure was always present- a tall knight with long flaxen hair wields a black sword and holy magic to defend the innocent. That knight came to a bitter end. He faced a shadowy figure with black claws, wings like a dragon, and glowing blue eyes. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It was a pattern, and each reading built on the others so that one understood it better each time. And with understanding came terror and wonder.


    He was that knight. And this was his story.

 Chapter One: Leaving Home

    Mother had always wished for a daughter, but William had never been able to meet her expectations.


    William had known it his entire life. He''d seen it in her disappointed glances as she trained, her blonde hair flowing. But he couldn''t think of that right now; he had to train in the art of music.


    He scarcely heard the music of his minstrel''s harp. The white garb was loose around his hands as he strummed the instrument. Blonde hair fell over his shoulders as Rusara watched beneath a dark hood and green eyes. The cavernous hall he was in seemed to warp and mutate the sounds. William kept his eyes away from the skeletal figures carved in stone on the high ceilings above. He hated this room with a passion.


    The fire burned low in the hearth, but his hands were still cold. So why did Lady Rusara insist on having her lessons here? There were many smaller, better rooms. So why did Rusara always insist on the most unpleasant one?


    William had grown to hate these stones around him.


    But it hardly mattered. No one questioned Lady Rusara except Father; he''d been gone for years. Even Mother wouldn''t dare.


    "You''re thinking too deeply," said Lady Rusara, brushing a strand of blonde hair from William''s face with one gray-skinned hand. You haven''t touched the strings of your harp."


    William rose and looked at his harp, carefully carved and fit for his hand. William loved his harp, but it was getting small for him. He hadn''t realized he''d drifted off. "I''m sorry, Rusara. I''m... I''m not in a good state of mind."


    "That doesn''t matter," said Rusara, pulling down her hood. "Someday, your life may rely on your ability to play the harp. If you have not practiced, where will you be, then?" She paused to draw a small strip of dried meat and offered it to the crow on her shoulder, Skullcracker. Skullcracker snapped it up and flew up to land on the rafters.


    "Dead, I suppose," said William.


    "Exactly," said Rusara, "now start again."


    William played once more. His hands felt unnatural as he plucked the strings. The proper melody always eluded him, no matter how he tried to make music. The task was difficult to master at the best of times. It was far harder than swordplay, but he much preferred the music.


    "Passable," said Rusara, "you need work and ought to be a bit less stiff. If you fear failing, you are more likely to make mistakes."


    "I''m nothing like Mother, am I?" asked William.


    "That may not be as bad a thing as you think," said Rusara. "Every person is different, William, and few are exactly like the people who bore them. You have Azgora''s hair and strength, but your eyes you take from your father¡ªthat and much of your personality."


    "Father is a great hero," said William thoughtfully. "He''s a victor of many battles. But I''m not like him."


    "You don''t have to be," said Rusara with a smile. "A person may serve their nation, people, and god in many ways. Vanion didn''t think much of his chances either. He was only a passable warrior at the best of times. Yet his cunning turned him into a great leader. So continue to improve yourself; you may be great one day."


    "I don''t want to be great," admitted William. "Is that why Mother hates me?" Would that he could gain anything from her but scorn. Yet he served little purpose in this place, held back long after all the others had gone.


    "Azgora doesn''t hate you," said Rusara. "I''ve seen her when she hates someone, and it''s altogether different. She is unsure of how to react to you. She was very set in her ways when I first met her, with clear expectations. Vanion defied those expectations, and that attracted him to her.


    "I think she wanted to tame him. Not that it worked, and it threw her into doubt when she bore a son instead of a daughter. Her people are very different from-"


    "I know," said William, "she never stops talking about it!"


    "Don''t use that tone with me," hissed Rusara, violet eyes flashing. "I am talking."


    William shivered as Skullcracker cawed in what might have been laughter. "I''m sorry, Lady Rusara; please continue."


    "I was mostly finished," admitted Rusara. "Don''t lose sleep over it. Seek to excel as best you can in all ways; sooner or later, she should come around." She looked up at the table and set aside the scarf she had been knitting. "The sands in the hourglass have nearly run their course. You''d best get on your way and meet with Raynald at the front gate. You know how he despises coming to get you."


    "I only got caught reading in Father''s library once," objected William.


    "Then you''d best not make it twice," laughed Rusara. "Get going."


    William set down the harp and slipped out of the chamber into one of the black stone halls of Carn Gable. He felt a familiar presence around him, but he could see no one. He looked down the hallway behind him. "Felix, you don''t have the skulk like a thief."


    Felix emerged from the shadows, his dark skin having blended with them. The red-eyed boy sighed. "I need the practice. So are we going to meet Raynald this time? Or the library?"


    "Raynald," said William.


    "Good," said Felix, "I don''t like it when you break the schedule. I get blamed for it."


    They made their way through the torchlit halls. From there, they walked down a flight of stairs and out the keep''s doors into the courtyard. There, the pages and squires were practicing under Raynald''s watchful eye. He was leaning against the wall near one of the front gates. His withered right arm turned away, his orange hair growing a bit long.


    Only the hand and the steel ring on it could be seen. He was flipping his serrated sword into the air, then catching it with practiced ease with his good hand. There was another instructor there, of course ¡ª a woman named Maria.


    What was going on?


    Whatever it was, Raynald must have spotted them out of the corner of his eye. He gave William a crooked smile and stood straight to his formidable height. "Ah, William," he said before turning an evil eye to Felix, "and the Calishan. I was hoping you''d arrive on time today.


    "Why does everyone keep acting as if I''m always late?" asked William. "I''m not."


    "I could argue against that," mused Raynald. "Follow me. Also, pick up those packs lying by the wall. We''re going up into the highlands, and we''ll need supplies."


    "Couldn''t we just have it out here?" asked William.


    "Sometimes you need to walk before you get the chance to fight," said Raynald. "This will help you get used to traveling. Why, you always ask? The answer is always the same."


    "The last time I asked that, we just had it out here," William firmly believed in forthright honesty.


    "Hmm, you may be right," Raynald admitted. I''d better cut that out. Let''s go."


    They made their way out of the looming gates and onto the road. The spring air was chill, as it usually was this time of year, and the winds were strong. Gusts were blowing their hair around them. Farmers were planting cabbages, potatoes, onions, and many others. William felt pity for them, for it had been a more brutal winter than usual. The wind was howling in his ears, and it stung a bit.


    After a time, Raynald broke off the road and led them into the trees. Soon, they went up into the hills, clambering up huge stones. William wondered where exactly they were heading. He had a few guesses based on their direction. The trees around them protected them from the wind and their cloaks, but it was still cold. Their breath became visible as they scaled higher into the hills. William pulled his cloak closer around him.


    Finally, they came out of the tree and found themselves at the base of a tower. It was at the peak of one of the hills. There was a sharp look to it. It was like a black knife that had stabbed up through the earth to loom above all the world in silent threat. Once, William had stood at the top of that tower and gazed upon all the surrounding lands.


    Looking back, one could see the castle of Carn Gable. It was a fortress of fierce outlines and jagged towers. It looked like a tiny model on a fake landscape from this height. It was the sort Raynald had used when teaching battle strategy. The many farms and villages that surrounded it seemed insignificant. When he had first gazed on them from on high, William had wondered if that was how the gods saw such things.


    He''d been up here once or twice before, and the majesty of the place never lessened.


    Raynald turned to him and flourished his sword with practiced skill. The air seemed to scream in agony as the blade cut it. He smiled. "Draw your sword, William. You are under attack."


    William drew his sword, and then he had no more time to think, for he was too busy fighting. Raynald unleashed a series of jabs and lunges with his sword that William barely parried. The onslaught drove him further and further back. Finally, slowing his retreat, William tried to go on the offensive.


    Then Raynald made a scarcely perceptible movement with his blade. William''s weapon went spinning from his hand. Raynald was slow to bring his sword in for the kill, and William rolled away to catch the blade as it fell. Raynald took a defensive stance with a smile. His mentor loved battle; he always had.


    William rushed at him and struck Raynald. Unfortunately, his blade turned, and he lost his sword again. William felt the serrated sword at his chest. He looked back and saw that his sword had plunged its blade into the ground. Raynald motioned to it, and William went to grab it.


    "Better," said Raynald, "yet not good enough. Again."


    It was a typical session with Raynald. Defeating him was impossible. As his skills increased, William found he could last longer, even take the offensive. But Raynald fought godlike, always seeking to slash and lunge. He could never get a tie with Raynald no matter how he improved. He didn''t understand why Raynald hadn''t given up on him.


    Raynald had told William a thousand stories about great battles. He, Rusara, Father, and later, Mother had fought many of them and gone on many adventures. They were inspiring and a joy to listen to. But, none of this made said training any less painful.


    Of course, he was never hurt¡ªRaynald was far too skilled for that¡ªbut he often got bruises. Raynald would sometimes rap him with the flat of his blade to remind him of some mistake or oversight. He was almost always sporting these; he had another by the time one batch healed. William did the best he could, but Raynald was a relentless teacher.


    As always, Felix watched, sitting on a rock with his head propped up in his hands. He looked very bored, of course, but William knew he was judging him. He didn''t like the fact.


    When they finally stopped for the day, William gasped for breath. Raynald didn''t even look winded. As the withered-armed man sheathed his sword, his smile dimmed. "You''ve advanced well, William. You haven''t been slacking as much." Then Raynald looked up to Felix. Calishan! Bring the bags; we''ll eat now."


    Felix obeyed without question. William felt a surge of resentment towards Raynald. It didn''t seem fair to treat Felix this way. It wasn''t his fault he''d been born of an inferior race. Even so, he didn''t say anything. Raynald was much older and more experienced than him, and it was not proper to question him.


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    They had rations for their meal, which soldiers used in the field. They were dry, chewy, and stuck in the throat. William hated them. When Raynald introduced him to them, he''d had trouble keeping them down. However, over time, he''d learned to tolerate them just as he''d learned to accept sleeping on the ground. Not that he''d ever had a chance to use these talents at this rate.


    Felix, as always, ate some distance away from Raynald so he did not have to look at him. He also remained silent. Raynald didn''t like it when Calishans talked in his presence.


    "You have a real talent for the blade," said Raynald, sipping from his waterskin. "Though your lack of enthusiasm is a problem. One day, you may become a great warrior. And I''m not interested if you don''t want to be one; there comes a time in every noble''s life when he has to fight. So you''re better off preparing for the day than wishing it will never come."


    "I wasn''t going to say anything," said William.


    "You usually do," noted Raynald. "Perhaps I am getting through to you."


    "You''ve been saying things like this to me every few weeks since we started," said William. "I''d have to be thick not to absorb some of it."


    "Fair enough," said Raynald. Then his expression grew somber, "William, there is something you should know."


    "Yes?" asked William.


    "Your Father sent me a letter," said Raynald. "He wants me to head for Artarq. He''s afraid that Baltoth will start an invasion. There are signs of troops moving on the borders. Since he''s governor, he''ll need all the help he can get defending the place.


    "Rusara and I are both going."


    "You''ll be back, won''t you?" asked William, not liking the idea.


    "Sooner or later, yes," said Raynald, though it could be some time. I need you to keep practicing with your blade in the meantime. I expect Azgora will have Maria keep instructing you, so you''ll have to take the lessons seriously. I know you don''t like violence, but it''s bound to be a part of your life."


    "I will," said William. "I promise."


    "I''ll hold you to that," said Raynald. "If I get back here and find you''ve slacked off again, I''ll remove it from your hide. Understand me?"


    "Yes, sir," said William, believing him.


    "Good," said Raynald. "Now, I have a letter for you as well." He drew a sealed scroll from a bag and offered it to William. Taking it, William unrolled the scroll and looked over it.


    "My son,


    I have heard that your studies have progressed less quickly than I would have liked. As the son of a Duke, you are honor-bound to set an example that others might follow. Therefore, this tendency to laziness, which I have discerned, is improper.


    From this point forward, I expect you to put your total effort into everything asked of you. You are the most recent in a long and illustrious line of nobility. Start acting like it.


    Sincerely yours,


    Your Father, Duke Vanion Gabriel, Governor of Artarq.


    P.S.: Forgive me if I seem harsh. However, this is a grave matter, and I am very trying. Don''t be too hard on yourself unless it will improve your unacceptable results."


    It could have been a blow in the face. William couldn''t leave it like this; he had to improve. But then Raynald was going away, too. Was this because of him?


    Raynald looked at him in sympathy but said nothing.


    They finished their meal in silence. William looked up and realized it was late in the day. Dark clouds were gathering overhead, and he wondered if it might snow. Raynald had spoken of Artarq, where it hardly ever snowed at all. The idea was strange to him.


    "We''d best get back to Carn Gable," said Raynald. "Azgora doesn''t like you going missing."


    The journey back could have been more uneventful. The three travelers'' pace was faster, and they took a different route. Their path went by the village near Carn Gable. In the village square, they saw Rusara sitting on a stump. She was surrounded by village children, with whom she was telling a story. As they drew nearer, William heard the end of it.


    "-and then, the trap door would have opened at the moment..." She motioned with her hands, and the children gasped. "...the spell wore off. Everyone realized it had been the knight, and the real villain was still at large.


    "There was a great battle after that, with many brave deeds. But, unfortunately, that story will have to wait for another time."


    "Why didn''t they just take the castle by force?" asked a boy.


    Rusara smiled. "No one has ever seized that castle by force. At the time, the depths of the Duke''s treachery were unknown. Yet with cunning, the knight turned the demon''s ambitions to good while denying him his prize."


    William shifted in unease as he heard the story. He knew who the knight, the Duke, and the demon were. Rusara might not have said their names, but he''d heard that story, the real version, from her many times. It was enough to know that she was changing it for dramatic effect.


    "What happened to the demon?" asked a girl.


    "Well, he was furious," said Rusara. "But he dared not attack the knight while being so well guarded. And now, everyone was wise as to what he was up to. So he fled back into his dark land to plot his revenge. To this day, he has not been heard from." She stood up and made for them. "One moment, children. Raynald, William, I see you are back."


    "That isn''t the story I remember," noted Raynald.


    "Of course, it''s not," said Rusara with a smile. "The real thing was far too anticlimactic. I had to do something to make it interesting again." She paused and glanced back. "Why don''t you three go on ahead? I''ll meet up with you later."


    "Right," said Raynald, "let''s go, William."


    The sun was sinking into the distance when they reached the gates of Carn Gable. They opened before them like a hungry maw. Adding to this image was the gatehouse in the shape of a human skull. The two bonfires kept burning in the arrow slits that were the eyes helped, too. The walls looked like rows of jagged teeth all lined up, just for effect.


    "I have never understood why Erik the Voyager chose this place," muttered William. "I mean, it''s my home, but it used to be a domain of the Withering. You''d think he''d have destroyed every stone of it."


    "And waste a good castle?" asked Raynald in amusement. "Erik the Voyager was not a fool."


    They found Lady Azgora waiting for them on the other side. She was clad in polished steel armor and held a round shield in her left hand. On her right was a long spear, and on her head was a helmet that obscured her face. Her long flaxen hair was falling around her shoulders in waves. She looked magnificent in her armor. William felt slightly scared as they approached. He hoped he had not done something to anger her.


    "Mother," he said, "I''m sorry we were out so late, but-"


    "Silence," said Azgora.


    William shut his mouth as Mother regarded Raynald. "So you return, Witherarm."


    Anyone else would have been dead where they stood after calling him that. Raynald had killed men for less. William knew well the love of Father prevented Raynald from striking her down. Mother knew how such words infuriated him and chose to bait him.


    "Well," said Raynald, "someone has to raise your son."


    "I will raise him however I see fit," said Mother. "Now, I would speak with him alone. Leave us." She looked at Felix. "You as well, young Felix."


    "By all means," said Raynald, brushing past her.


    Felix paused a moment and bowed his head. "Lady Azgora." Then he moved on.


    Azgora led William to one side and looked at him hard. William shuddered as he looked at the cold and gray eyes behind that helmet. The shadows made them seem even more menacing than they usually were. Then Mother planted her spear in the ground and removed the helmet with one hand, holding it under her arm.


    For a long time, there was silence between them. Then, "I have noted you are no longer abstaining from your lessons." Mother said. "That is... good."


    "I don''t want to disappoint you, Mother," said William. How many times were people going to bring that up?


    "You have not entirely." Mother assured him before lapsing into silence again. "Among my people..." Here it came. "Men are not trained to fight. I have never understood why things should be so different here. You do not have the right temperament for war. Even so, you are a member of Harlenor''s warrior elite. It was unbefitting of one of your stations to evade lessons."


    "Yes, Mother." What did she want from him again?


    Azgora looked around before turning her attention back to him. "Rusara''s lessons are more things which people of your kind should be worried about. Harlenor is a strange place, so you must adapt."


    "It isn''t strange to me," said William, clenching his fist. Why did Mother pretend as if this place wasn''t his homeland? He''d never even been to Themious. Nor did he wish to go there.


    Azgora missed his tone entirely. "Yes, I suppose it is not. You have never been home. Truly home." Her eyes grew distant as she looked at the sunset. "You have never seen the Temple of Zeya as it stands upon the cliffs overlooking the bay of Acoria. Nor have you seen true warriors at work. Rather, you have seen the mockery of martial prowess in this place."


    "Raynald seems a fine warrior," said William, letting defiance seep into his tone. Why did she pretend this faraway place was much better than his home?


    "I don''t doubt Witherarm is dangerous in his own right," said Mother. "I have fought him only once, and he was a formidable adversary. But, even so, no divine power runs through his veins, and so he will never be as mighty as you or I might be. In Acoria, cripples like him are left to the wolves."


    "His family tried to do that to him," said William. "The wolves brought him back. I don''t think I''m all that different from anyone else. How can I know? I''ve never even left Carn Gable. I don''t want to, but I should at some point."


    "The time for that has not yet come," said Mother. "For now, continue your studies."


    "Raynald," said William, emphasizing the name, "just told me Father is calling him away. There is a war brewing in Artarq."


    "I know; the message came to me first," said Azgora. "I am glad Vanion is calling Raynald to his aid. It will be good to be rid of that cripple. And, fortunately, war should come to these lands before the people grow too complacent."


    "A lot of people will get killed," said William. "There doesn''t seem to be anything fortunate about that to me."


    Mother smiled fondly. "Your tenderness of heart befits your gender, but not a member of the warrior elite. Wars are a chance to win immortality; otherwise, one would fade into the mists of time. Only in battle are vices and virtues brought out in full. There, we may know each other''s true nature.


    "War is a magnificent and glorious thing. I cannot understand how your father puts so much thought into avoiding it."


    "You sound like Raynald," said William.


    "Do not compare me with Witherarm," said Mother sternly. "He is a wounded creature. The disabled are a burden upon the healthy. One that should be thrown off."


    "Raynald is the greatest warrior in all of Harlenor," said William. "Why are you always mocking him?"


    "This is a question that I have asked many times," said Rusara, appearing behind Mother. "Were you not protected by Vanion, there would have been blood between you years ago."


    "One exception does not change the rule," said Mother. "And I am speaking to my son."


    "That alarms me," said Rusara. "To my mind, all living things have the potential for great good and immense evil. In a thousand small ways, all things advance both causes."


    Azgora and Rusara''s gaze met in silent challenge. Mother loomed tall over Rusara, but the latter had the higher authority. Rusara was small, even for a Dust Elf. Yet she faced down a princess of the Amazons. It was the princess who looked away first.


    Azgora hid the motion by turning back to William. "Bear in mind what I have said. You have a higher destiny."


    Then she moved away. Skullcracker cawed from one of the battlements.


    "She is in a good mood today, isn''t she?" mused Rusara.


    "When will you and Raynald leave for Artarq?" asked William.


    "Soon," said Rusara, "perhaps in the next few days. But, of course, it depends on when we can get a ship, so I came looking for you. I would like you to go with us.


    William got a sinking feeling when she mentioned this. "Me?" he asked, "Go with you to Artarq?"


    "Don''t be a coward," said Rusara. "Weren''t you saying how you wanted to see the world outside this place? So, instead, Azgora would have you remain here until she ships you to wherever she wants you to go. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''ve never understood the appeal of destiny. If our choices are preordained, what is the purpose of making them? Where was I?"


    "Leaving Carn Gable," said William, the idea of it gaining some appeal. "Can I take Felix with me?"


    "Yes, yes, of course," said Rusara. "He is your servant, after all, and Vanion did assign him to you."


    "But shouldn''t we tell Mother?" asked William. "We ought to get her permission."


    "She''ll never give it," said Rusara. "If you want to see the outside world, this is your chance. Take it or leave it. I''m not going to force the issue. Far better to leave with her none the wiser and have her find you suddenly gone.


    "I''d love to see the look on her face."


    "Could I at least write her a letter explaining where I''m going?" asked William. I could leave one in my room so that she doesn''t worry."


    "If you wish," said Rusara, "Now, let''s not breathe a word of this to anyone. If you want to join us, have Felix find us your answer. Then we''ll make arrangements."


    William felt this could be the beginning of a great and terrible adventure. He didn''t like the idea at all, but he was a member of the warrior elite and had to act like it. Everyone wanted him to be bold and seek out adventures, so he ought to.


    Shouldn''t he?


    Even so, the whole thing boded poorly either way.


    Later, he tried playing chess against Felix to ease his troubled mind. It didn''t go well at all.


    "Checkmate," said William in a dull tone. "You let me win, as usual."


    "I am your servant," said Felix with a grin. "I''m not allowed to beat you at anything."


    "Come off it. You''re just doing it to annoy me," said William, standing up.


    William went to the far wall to look at a large map of the three Harlenorian Kingdoms. The island of Haldren is to the north, Escor is to the southwest across the channel, and Antion is to the southeast. Once, they had been one kingdom, united, but that was long ago. Reuniting the nation had been the dream of many, and none had yet achieved it.


    He traced a finger from Antion, then east into the elven reservations, north through Seathorius, and northwest along the shore until he reached the province of Artarq. On the opposite side of a great river lay Calisha in the east. If he did, Baltoth would attack Artarq first.


    "If I go with Raynald and Rusara," realized William. "I may end up in a war."


    "That does seem a fair statement of the obvious," noted Felix. He had begun playing chess against himself. He was winning handily.


    "But if I stay here, I''ll just stay here forever," said William. "And anyway, everyone thinks me a coward. If I don''t take this chance, they may be right. I have to go. It is my duty."


    "You are listening too much to Raynald and Rusara," said Felix. "They want you to come with them so they can spite Lady Azgora, and you know it."


    "What do you think I should do?" asked William.


    "Stay here," said Felix. "You''re fourteen; I''m fifteen. We''re not of age to fight in wars. Your father would agree with me."


    William considered telling Raynald and Rusara that right to their faces, but he decided he had too much respect for them to do so. They believed he ought to get out, and they were here while Father was not. He didn''t like danger but wanted to see new things and knew he had to go now or never. He could not say where and when it would end, but he desired it.


    He wrestled with it momentarily, then realized he had not seen his father in almost two years. The Lord of Carn Gable had left on duties one day and has yet to return. His only contact with him had letters. He wanted to speak with him again about something, anything. William didn''t want to go without seeing Father any longer. That tipped the scales.


    "Go to Rusara," said William. "Tell her I''m coming with her and Raynald."


    "Great," said Felix as he stood up, "but when all this goes to hell, I want to say I warned you."


    "You have my permission," said William.


    "All right then," said Felix. "I''ll be back."


    As Felix walked out the door, William sat down and wondered what he had gotten into.

 Chapter Two: What Lies in the Mist

    Writing a letter to Mother was far more complicated than William had expected. For one thing, he was having second thoughts. The office, his Father''s office once, was a small place with lots of books and papers he''d read for ages. The ink and parchment were something he was well-acquainted with writing. Most nobility was, and William was well-educated by their standards. Often, Father had entertained guests here. The old Duke Garath, William''s grandfather, had compiled some of the most extensive records in Haldren.


    There had been little else to do. House Gabriel''s fortunes had been on the wane after losing the Escorian Civil War. What ought to have been Erik the Voyager''s great triumph became his final humiliation. One of the greatest heroes of his era, the old man had to flee to Haldren to regroup. As an old man, he and his descendants had served in the name of Haldren. The Kings of this Land had been waning, but House Gabriel had proved critical in stopping the decay. And at last, they were awarded Gel Carn, a rocky and defensible realm north of House Telus. But, unfortunately, they were meant to be vassals.


    But Father would never be a vassal again, not since the Duke had returned with Mother as a bride. He had returned before all the rest of his companions. House Gabriel''s star was rising through political maneuvering and brilliant military feats. And William had been left outside until now. He did not want to be involved in the wars nor to win great glory for his house.


    In the old days, writing was a rare skill, but with the rise of King Andoa, I had seen Antion become dominant. And Andoa II had picked up where he left off and arranged tutors for the nobility.


    Rusara had put a hand to all of that. She habitually taught people around Harlenor how to write and tell stories. Still, William wondered if his desire to see Father again would be well received. However, he''d already told Raynald and Rusara he was coming, so he didn''t feel proper backing out now. Also, he wanted to see the world outside, even if he feared it.


    Now, he sat in his room, writing a draft as best he could; his doubts ran through his mind. Eventually, he finished his letter and set down his quill. Then, drawing up the parchment, he read it to himself and threw it into the fire in disgust. Then, taking up another sheet of paper, he started writing again.


    This was his fifth draft.


    "I can''t believe you are going along with this," said Felix.


    "Rusara and Raynald know best, I''m sure," said William, only half believing it himself. "Besides, Tanith left Carn Gable at about this age?"


    "Tanith was of the Telus family," said Felix. "They are of lower rank than you. Have you forgotten House De Chevlon used to be House Gabriel''s archenemy? There was an entire war fought in Escor between your families. Rusara was on the De Chevlon''s side."


    "That was a long time ago, Felix," said William. "No one is still holding a grudge about that. Least of all, Raynald." This was a gross exaggeration at best, but it was polite.


    "The slaughter of Anoa the Bright''s heirs was long ago," muttered Felix. "Yet everyone still hates Calishans." Anoa the Bright was the most excellent King in the world. Or at least the most outstanding war leader, depending on who you asked. Father regarded Anoa as a kind of necessary destructive force. A forest fire clears out the deadwood of the decadent old world. The elves hated him because they had run that world. But humanity was forever in his debt, and he''d been the one who led to the Halfling''s rise to prominence. As a result, his name was universally feared.


    But that was long ago. The sense of politics had changed, and the all-out conflict was gone forever. The orcs were exterminated, and the goblins were dead. The giants stuck to their hills, and the dragons had gone into banking. And to the east, under the hand of Baltoth, lay Calisha.


    Calisha was the greatest empire the world had ever seen.


    Calisha was the most terrible fighting force that had ever been witnessed. Whose soldiers never retreated without orders and who died with her name on their lips.


    Calisha was where criminals met with swift and brutal retribution on the cross. It was ruled by a barbaric and calculating Emperor Baltoth, who brutally kept command.


    Calisha, the Empire that the Heir of Kings, the descendant of Anoa the Bright, would destroy.


    William was not the Heir of Kings. He''d kept careful track of his lineage and was unrelated to Anoa in any way, shape, or form. It had been quite disappointing to him. His family had been more or less obscure. That was before Erik the Voyager brought House Gabriel''s star into the ascent. But Mother had been quite firm that his destiny lay west in the distant lands of Themious. William knew nothing about Themious, and he did not care about Themious in the slightest.


    It was a realm of mighty Amazons, feuding city-states, and great warrior women. But there were plenty of great warriors here in Haldren. Some of the greatest were under this roof now. And what William had learned of the history demonstrated an inability to organize. There were no Great Themosian empires, simply regional hegemonies. Acoria, where he was descended, was the greatest. But Mother had kept it all secret, and William was not interested anyway.


    If she intended to keep it a mystery, let it remain a mystery until the time was right. William was no longer waiting for his destiny.


    The wars of the east were where he would earn glory. No one in Harlenorian cared about Themious, so neither did he.


    He finally finished writing the letter and looked at it, feeling satisfied. Or at least as much as one can be when explaining why one has left without the leave of one''s parents. Father might disapprove of his actions, but Father was never here.


    "What do you think of this?" asked William before reading aloud;


    "Mother,


    "I am going with Raynald and Rusara to Artarq. I need to see more of the outside world. I have carefully considered this decision. Raynald is one of the finest swordsmen in Harlenor, and Rusara is a powerful sorceress. I am safe.


    "Signed,


    "Your son, William Gabriel."


    "Short, to the point, a pack of lies and ultimately futile," mused Felix. "You haven''t considered this decision or wouldn''t be making it. Second, you are only doing this because Rusara told you as part of her ongoing campaign to spite Lady Azgora. Third, you are only partially safe; travel always has risks, no matter how you are guarded. And lastly, she will be angry no matter what you do.


    "You might as well not write this letter for all the good it will do you."


    "Well, I have written it," said William, "I will leave it for her. Have you gotten the packs and things together?" He set the parchment on the desk by the window to see it.


    "Of course," said Felix, hoisting a pack over one shoulder, "we can go at any time."


    "Then let''s get to it," said William. "Before our resolve falters."


    "Resolve?" asked Felix. "Do I have a choice in any of this?"


    "Not really," admitted William, "be glad Father pulled most of our men to Artarq. Otherwise, we''d never be able to sneak out of here."


    Tanith had won great glory out there in the world. She had sacked many Calishan towns alongside Prince Aris and Eitrigg. Her letters were often sent to him and others. She often described the fortifications and shorelines, though her pen had become bloodthirsty. She was fond of Calishan women and had good relations with her companions. That and several others she''d written up. Would that he had been able to fight in raids from Estal. William would love to meet Tanith again someday.


    They slipped out of their room and entered the nearly empty torchlit halls. Evading the guards was simple enough, much to William''s relief. He wanted to avoid explaining to the guards where they were going with travel packs and swords. So they got to the bottom floor and into the courtyard without incident.


    As soon as they got out, they saw Mother standing on the wall by the gatehouse. She was speaking to Maria. Mother got on well with most of the soldiers; it was why Father could leave her in charge.


    "A beautiful view, is it not, Maria?" asked Lady Azgora.


    "Yes, Lady Azgora, it is," answered Maria.


    "Sometimes, we miss things in all the scurrying to and fro. We don''t stop long enough to appreciate beauty while it is there," said Azgora. "Take those flowers down there. They bloom for a time, then fade and die. We''ll never get another chance to see them."


    "But others like them will come when the gods will it," noted Maria.


    "Yes, but will they be the same?" asked Azgora. "Look at any flower, and you''ll find that no two are alike. Yet all of them fade and die. As everything does."


    "The gods don''t fade, Lady Azgora," said Maria.


    "Not to us," conceded Azgora. "But I wonder if even goddesses and gods may grow old and wither in some far-off time. They have the shape of mortals, do they not?"


    "Perhaps we have their shape," suggested Maria. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes, it might be the other way around," mused Azgora.


    They fell silent and stood where they were, staring out over a view that neither of the two boys could see. So typical; Mother had never had this kind of conversation with him. William tapped Felix on the shoulder.


    "We''ll be caught for sure if we go through the gate," said William. "Let''s scale the wall and climb down that way."


    "I didn''t bring any rope," said Felix.


    "Then we''ll do it by hand," said William. "It''s not that hard."


    "Easy for you to say," said Felix.


    They crept up the stairs and came to the battlements. William quickly got on top of one of the crenulations and gradually lowered himself. The surface looked smooth, but he knew where the footholds were from years of climbing it. William was glad the Furbearers who constructed Carn Gable were worse stonemasons. It made climbing easier. Any recent fortress would have been far more challenging to scale.


    As he reached the base of the wall, he looked up. Felix was coming down much more slowly, looking uncomfortable. He''d never had William''s natural talent for it.


    "Would you hurry up?" asked William.


    "I can''t climb as fast as you," hissed Felix. "I''m human, not an ape in human form."


    "What''s an ape?" asked William. "Do you mean that elvish slur the Urishia used to use?" The Urishia had been the former rulers of Calisha in all but name. They''d administered everything on the part of Valranor.


    Then Baltoth and Anoa started killing people, which all evaporated quickly.


    "Um... It''s not a slur," Felix paused, "they are sort of humanoid creatures, but with hair. They are very good at climbing trees and cliffs. I read about them before Duke Vanion freed me. They live in the jungles of Dinis, the Far East. Now quiet; I''m climbing."


    Felix reached the bottom after a bit more work, and they made their way along the edge of the wall. The village they were to meet Rusara and Raynald. It was about a mile away, with many thatched houses built of stone. They were sure to be spotted if they went straight on for it. William looked to Felix, then to the edge of the trees about half a mile to their left.


    "We''ll head for that forest," said William. "Once we''re there, we''ll follow along the road, then make for the village once we get near. Anyone who sees us from the walls may not recognize us from that distance."


    "Whatever you say," said Felix without much enthusiasm.


    They made for the forest. As they ran, William felt his heart beating. He was afraid someone on the walls would look up and notice them with every passing moment. No call went out, and the trees drew nearer and nearer. Finally, they passed the eaves of the forest and halted for breath.


    William found he was smiling despite himself. His journey had only begun, but escaping without being noticed was exciting. He felt a little foolish thinking like that. Felix could have been more enthusiastic.


    "Can we please turn back now?" asked Felix.


    "Come now, after all that?" asked William. "You want it to be for nothing?"


    "More or less," admitted Felix. "I don''t like going behind Lady Azgora''s back like this."


    "Then you ought to have brought it up before," said William.


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    "I did bring it up before," said Felix. "You never listen."


    "Well, it''s too late to go back now," said William. "Come on, let''s keep moving."


    They made their way along the edge of the trees as quickly as possible. The trip itself was more uneventful. Soon enough, they were parallel to the village.


    "Let''s take it slow," said Felix. "No one will recognize us at this distance anyway."


    "You are probably right," admitted William.


    As they made their way towards the village, William risked a look at the walls. He could see no sign of Mother. William hoped that it wasn''t because she had seen them and was coming to drag them back by force. William did not want to see a showdown between her and Rusara.


    They entered the village, and nothing happened.


    They got into the square ¡ª still, nothing. William''s nerves frayed. He had a feeling that their actions would be discovered very soon. He kept glancing behind him. He was expecting to see Mother coming around the corner with a furious look in her eyes.


    "At the least," said Felix, "all the men are out in the fields. On the other hand, the secret may be slow to get out."


    "You certainly took your time," said Rusara behind them.


    William jumped with sudden fright before turning around. How did she do that? He saw Raynald leaning against the far wall behind Rusara, spinning a dagger in one hand. "Mother was on the wall. We had to scale down and go through the forest ways to get here."


    "I suppose the precaution was well-founded," said Rusara. "But it has cost us precious time. Come, let''s get moving. I don''t doubt your absence will soon be discovered, and I''d rather be far from here when that happens. So we''ll head south along the road until we reach the port of Ran Telus."


    They departed the village and made their way along the road. William and Felix had to run several times to keep up with Raynald and Rusara. The party moved very quickly, and their haste proved wise. Just as the village was fading into the horizon, they heard it. It was a cry of unfathomable rage echoing throughout the hills.


    "I think we''d better run," said Raynald.


    They did just that.


    On the fourth day of their journey, they came within sight of Ran Telus. It was a large town of stone houses with shingled roofs. Farmlands stretched out on either side of the road and got denser near the city.


    William looked around as they entered the city gates, taking in the changes. "It''s grown larger," he said. "Several buildings weren''t here the last time we came."


    "Well, that is the way of things," said Rusara. "They grow and shrink, live, and die."


    "Is that statement of the obvious meant to be profound?" asked Felix, forgetting himself for a moment.


    "Be silent, Calishan," snapped Raynald.


    "It''s quite all right, Raynald," said Rusara. "Sometimes, the simplest of realizations are the most profound."


    Felix could have looked more impressed.


    "Do you think Lord Telus will host us?" asked William, remembering a pleasant stay here a few years ago. Well, except for when Tanith cut the ears off that squirrel.


    "We''ll not have time to enjoy his hospitality," said Rusara. "We are still being pursued, as you ought to have remembered. Raynald has arranged a ship to Artarq. Or do you think those few days were idly spent?"


    "Would it surprise you if I said yes?" muttered Felix in a low enough that Raynald could not hear.


    The ship that had been contracted was a large vessel of an older kind. A dragon''s head was on its prow, and it had a bright red sail emblazoned with the symbol of a bull''s head on it. This was fitting since minotaurs crewed it. They attended to various tasks with practiced ease. Their leader, a hulking gray bull with a long white beard, approached Raynald and hugged him. Raynald returned the embrace with his good arm. Then they separated.


    "Lord Raynald," said the minotaur, "we were afraid you would not reach us in time."


    "Is everything arranged, Hrungeld?" asked Raynald.


    "Of course," said the minotaur. "We can leave at any time."


    "Good," said Raynald, glancing back. "William, this is Captain Hrungeld, a friend of mine. He hails from Viokinar. He will be taking us to Artarq."


    "I am glad to meet you," said William. "Your ship is magnificent." But, of course, he knew little enough about ships that he could be completely wrong. Even so, it seemed to please Hrungeld, who clapped him on the back in a move that sent William staggering.


    "It is a source of great pride to my clan," said Hrungeld. "Come, come, all of you aboard! With your permission, we''ll leave at once-" His eyes narrowed on Felix. "What is one of them doing here?"


    "Felix is my servant," said William. "He will be no trouble, I assure you."


    "See to it that he isn''t," said Hrungeld with a glare.


    They boarded the vessel. The gangplank was pulled up, and the ship glided out of the port like a swan. It was amazing how smoothly it moved. The few boats William had been on before had rocked and swung from side to side, but this one was more stable. It was still unpleasant, however.


    As they left the harbor, William approached Raynald. "Raynald, why are we going with these Viokins?"


    "You needn''t fear, William," said Raynald. "Hrungeld is a fine sea captain."


    "I''m sure he is if you say so," said William. "I''ve heard so many stories about the Viokin Minotaurs."


    "Oh, those are all true," said Raynald. "But their days of coastal raiding are long past. Viokinar has problems at home, so they don''t have time to do any raiding."


    William gave up. Looking up, he saw Felix looking back at Ran Telus. He put a hand on his friend''s shoulder. "Are you all right?"


    "Yes," said Felix. "I''ve long since become accustomed to it." He looked a little unsteady, though.


    Then William saw Mother appear on the shore in full armor along with a contingent of guards. There was a gleam as she drew back her spear and then hurled it. There was a moment of silence. Then the spear passed over their heads and impaled itself in the mast. It was mere inches away from Raynald''s head.


    "... We''re too far out to sea to throw a spear at us," said Hrungeld.


    "Perhaps you''d like to tell her that to her face," mused Raynald, quite calm and unmoving.


    Hrungeld reached out with one massive hand and gripped the spear before jerking on it. It didn''t come out. He pulled harder several more times, so the wood groaned, and still, it would not come out. Grabbing it with both hands, he set one foot against the mast and then hauled it with all his might. Still, he has yet to receive results. Finally, Hrungeld stepped back and turned to a gigantic minotaur.


    "Get this spear out of the mast," he said. "It''s in the way."


    The minotaur came forward and tried. It also failed. Thus began an odd assembly as each of the minotaurs came forward to push and pull out the spear. None were able to get it out. Finally, as Ran Telus had become tiny in the distance, Raynald came forward.


    "Step back," Raynald said. "I''ll handle this."


    Hrungeld laughed. "Raynald, you are a mighty warrior. Yet, in sheer strength, a minotaur cannot be matched. What hope-"


    Raynald set his hand to his sword. There was a blur of movement, and he was sheathing his sword, even though no one had seen the blade. A long moment passed, and then the spear fell into seven pieces with only the head remaining in the mast.


    "Ever you surprise us," said Hrungeld. "All right, you bulls, back to work!"


    Over the next few days, they sailed through the Haldrenian channel at a brisk pace. The air became warmer as they went further east, and the sun beat down on them. William did not enjoy himself during this time in the slightest, for he soon became seasick. He spent the next few days in an utterly wretched state, often throwing up over the side. It was much to the minotaur''s amusement.


    When at last he recovered, the air had turned cooler. But a heavy mist was rising up over the sea. It all seemed ominous, and William wasn''t alone in thinking so.


    "Mark my words; it''s bad luck," said a sailor.


    "Work of evil spirits, I''d wager," said another.


    "They seem afraid," noted Felix.


    "I have a bad feeling about this myself," said William. "Let''s go see what Raynald is doing."


    Finding them was tricky, with the mist sweeping over the deck. William found Raynald and Hrungeld standing at the prow, talking. Hrungeld appeared not so much afraid as concerned, while Raynald looked eager.


    "It could be the normal sort of mist," said Hrungeld. "Or it could be some evil force that has decided it wants us to crash on the rocks. Or are they trying to hide an enemy approaching us even now?"


    "Which do you think it is?" asked Raynald.


    "Not sure," admitted Hrungeld. "The satyrs of Seathorius patrol these waters. They seek ships to seize for their demonic god. They have some proper sorcerers among them, worshippers of Melchious. Still, mists of the natural sort can be found anywhere. A proper fight might be a relief after all this suspense."


    Melchious. The name sent a shiver down William''s spine, and he felt like evil eyes were upon him. But, glancing around, he saw nothing. He turned back to Raynald and Hrungeld, who stared across the water.


    "You ever wonder what it would be like to live in a world without sorcery?" asked Raynald. "I mean, you''d still have to deal with regular mists. But when it happened, you''d know there wasn''t some malevolent force behind it."


    "So you could just focus on avoiding the rocks and not getting lost," noted Hrungeld. "Yes, that would be nice. Even so, it would still mean ill fortune. Mists are omens of bad luck; we must not forget that."


    "Perfect," said Raynald, "I hate all this waiting. I haven''t had a good battle in years. An adventure would do everyone some good."


    "I wish I were as confident as you," said Hrungeld. "But I''m not as young as I used to be, and my men and I are unlikely to survive such a venture. We have no special destiny keeping us safe, so you''ll forgive us if we hope against you."


    "I forgive you," laughed Raynald.


    William liked only some of this talk of satyrs and adventure. He''d heard all sorts of horror stories, from how they acted to how they treated their prisoners. The prospect of satyrs who worshipped Melchious appealed even less. The stories of the demon were so many you could fill a thousand tomes with them. And you still need to have them all written down.


    To distract himself, he went to the ship''s opposite side. There, Rusara was staring into the mist. "Lady Rusara, is it true you fought Erik the Voyager?"


    "Yes," said Rusara.


    Silence reigned for a moment as William waited for her to continue. Then, finally, he sighed as he realized she wanted him to ask. "Could you tell me about him?"


    Rusara smiled with memory. "Erik the Voyager was ancient when I fought him. He had handsome features and intense green eyes like you and your Father. But he had a long white beard when I faced him. He was a terrible enemy, killing many people and nearly taking off my head. However, I managed to escape him, and since his side lost the battle, he couldn''t pursue me.


    "He was always viewed as a worthy opponent by us. We hated him bitterly but also respected him. He kept his word, you see."


    "Is that the only reason?" asked William.


    "It is more important than it may seem at first glance," said Rusara. "Oaths are binding in more than one way. To break an oath is to break a part of oneself. It is unforgivable to do in all but the most extreme circumstances.


    "And no one who does so fails to get paid out in full by the end."


    "Surely, some must get away," said William.


    "No one ever really gets away with anything, William," said Rusara. "Oh, you might escape the consequences of your actions for a day or even a lifetime. In the end, however, there is consistent accounting for your sins. More people would only realize it would be a better world.


    "Then again, perhaps not."


    "Satyrs! Portside!" cried a sentry.


    William looked up in terror and rushed with Rusara to the ship''s side. Out of the mist had come a black vessel with black sails. There were designs of skulls on its surface. Its figurehead was that of a screaming woman, her face terrified and her eyes bleeding. Dozens of dirty men with goat legs and long braided beards were aboard. Their hair was wild and unkempt. In their hands were swords and axes, which they waved as they howled and hollered.


    The minotaurs were arming themselves with spears and axes in a frenzy. Several were cheering. Raynald himself stepped forward, naked sword in hand and a broad smile on his face.


    "Finally!" he said. "We''ll see some excitement!"


    William drew his sword and stepped back to stand behind Raynald. He was trying to get as far from the coming battle as possible without making it obvious. He didn''t want to fight. He couldn''t get rid of a lump in his throat or stop his hands from shaking. Cold sweat dripped from his brow. But, no, he steadied himself. He had to get involved. He had an obligation to fight alongside the crew!


    "William," said Raynald as an afterthought, "I want you to stay back and out of the fighting."


    "Yes, Raynald," he said. Thank Elranor. It was all he could do not to praise him out loud.


    Raynald looked annoyed at the quickness of his response. Yet there needed to be more time for conversation. The ship was drawing nearer as they spoke. Then Rusara raised a hand.


    "We don''t have time for this," Rusara said.


    A bolt of green flame shot forth from Rusara''s palm to hit the black ship. The fire soon spread over the boat. William hoped the vessel would be destroyed without having to have a fight. Though the satyrs would probably all die, he didn''t like the idea of anyone dying.


    Then, a great shadow was cast over both ships. A wave arose and quenched the fire. William felt as though some terrible creature was reaching out for him.


    The ships were now sailing parallel with one another. Ropes were thrown by both sides and hauled on to draw the vessels closer together. For a long, terrible moment, they were drawing nearer and nearer. Both sides strained to narrow the gap between them. The satyrs waved their weapons, curved scimitars, and fur, making them like beasts of hell. Across from them, the crew of Hrungeld, minotaurs to the man, held axe and spear. Raynald stood among them, smiling. For a moment, the sound of war cries was everywhere. Then they were side by side, and the satyrs spilled over the deck.


    A minotaur was run through before his killer had his skull cloven by a battleax. Raynald''s blade flashed lazily, and two heads fell from the shoulders of two satyrs. Hrungeld was fighting a satyr with his axe, both sporting bloody wounds. Rusara stepped aside from a lunge. She snapped her fingers and watched as her enemy burned to death, screaming. Then, their ashes were scattered in the wind.


    Then, a satyr bore down on Rusara with a knife, and she fell to the deck, wrestling with the creature. William knew what he had to do. He had to go help her to slay the beasts. But he dared not move; people were dying around him, and his terror grew.


    A dead body hit the deck before him, eyes lifeless and blood-soaked the wood. He shrank back from the corpse with a scream and found himself at the ship''s edge. He looked back and saw the sea churning beneath him.


    Then, a white-furred satyr of enormous size emerged from the fray over the corpse of a minotaur. On his face was a smile, all too like Raynald''s. In his hand was a bloodstained sword. He was coming this way!


    William''s sword fell from his hand, and he rolled away just in time to avoid being grabbed. The white satyr loomed over him, blade in hand. Then Felix rushed at the creature, sword swinging. The beast knocked the weapon from Felix''s hand, spinning it into the sea. Then, grabbing Felix by the collar, the satyr slammed him against the rail and threw him into the sea. Felix did not surface.


    Felix would die if he didn''t do something.


    William vaulted over the ship''s side and dove into the waters below. It was bitterly cold as he descended, trying to hold his breath. He could see Felix sinking into the water. He was not moving. William quickened his strokes, kicking at the water as he did so. Finally, reaching Felix, William tried to pull them both up. His lungs were burning; his boots were filling with water. Kicking them off, he removed Felix''s shoes and then swam upwards.


    William couldn''t hold the air in his lungs any longer! His heart was beating, his legs aching as he kicked to try and get free of the chill around him! He could sense something behind him, and he almost screamed. He could feel something snapping at his heels! Then, they broke through the surface of the waves with a splash, and he gasped for air. Nothing was below him.


    Had he imagined it in his terror?


    It didn''t matter. Felix was still unconscious.


    Why wouldn''t he wake up?


    William realized that the boy must have breathed in the water while sinking. His vision suddenly seemed to become crystal clear. He got behind Felix, putting a hand on his forehead. There was a sensation of something putting its will through him. Then Felix spat out water and pulled himself from William''s grasp.


    "You fool!" said Felix. "Why did you come after me?!"


    "You''re my friend," said William.


    "No, I''m not!" roared Felix. "I''m your servant! Now... where is the ship?"


    Confused, William looked up and around. The mist had arisen anew, and he could see no sign of the ship anywhere. Instead, a distant echo of fighting and screams could still be heard. Yet he could not tell which direction it was coming from. They were alone in the open water, and their ship was gone.

 Chapter Three: Open Water

    Silence fell over them as they tread water, unsure what to do.


    Now William was grateful Mother had taught him and Felix to swim. If she hadn''t, they would both be as good as dead. Then, a sudden wave splashed over him, driving him away from Felix. He fought his way back through the water. As he did, William realized how dire their situation really was. He looked around, trying to think of what to do.


    "We could try and swim to land," said William finally.


    At this, he thought that Felix would have some biting sarcasm for him. He would likely point out that they needed to learn which way land was.


    "All right," said Felix, "the current is heading that way." He motioned.


    "Which means we should swim at a right angle to it. If we keep that way, we''ll hit land sooner or later."


    "Right," said William, "we''ll do that then."


    They swam through the sea in the direction Felix had motioned, jostled by waves, and chilled by the water. Felix nearly went under several times, and William was terrified he would. Yet he always kept going, and they paddled on. What if Felix could not keep this up? Should William swim down again and try to carry him on his back? William supposed it was the only decent thing he could do.


    He wondered if sharks were swimming beneath him. Or some other carnivorous fish was eyeing them for its next meal. The silence was unbearable, and he wanted something to distract himself. But there was nothing but the mist and the waves. Even worse, this was all his fault. He had been a complete coward, throwing down his weapon and fleeing when he should have fought like a man. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    William should have fought the satyr and killed the dirty thing like Raynald would have done! But, instead, Felix had been forced to rush to his aid. So now they were swimming in the open ocean. They would likely drown or be eaten by horrible things lurking beneath the waves. All because of his cowardice.


    At least they hadn''t seen the Shark Queen yet. They''d be as good as dead if they laid eyes on her.


    "I''m sorry," said William as they swam onwards.


    "For what?" asked Felix, whose strokes were growing weaker.


    "For not fighting," said William, "because of me, you were thrown into the sea."


    "More or less," agreed Felix.


    They did not speak for a while after that.


    Then William''s hopes surged, for the vague shape of the landmass Felix had spoken of came into view. It loomed above them in magnificent brownstone cliffs with many bumps and chinks. Atop of it were many forests visible. The trees were densely packed, tall, and wide, even from this distance.


    William''s heart practically leaped from his chest. They had found land! Suddenly, his hopes sank again. There was no way they could climb up those sheer cliffs. It wasn''t possible.


    Felix''s strokes became slower and then stopped altogether. The dark-skinned boy plunged face-first into the water. William swam to him in a panic and pulled his head out of the water. "Felix, Felix, you''ve got to stay awake! We''re almost there!"


    "Just... need... rest...." said Felix, voice distant.


    William looked around for any way up the cliffs of brownish stone. There was none, but he needed firm ground soon! Then he saw something. "What about those rocks over that way? We can rest there for a time!"


    "All right," said Felix. "I think I can make it."


    They made for the rocks, and as they swam, Felix looked as though he might faint again. William made sure to stay by him, determined to carry him on his back if he had to. Finally, they reached the rocks. William tried to scramble up and quickly cut his hand. Barnacles were growing just beneath the water. Sucking his sliced fingers, he saw that Felix could not scale any higher.


    Reaching out with one hand, he gripped Felix by the collar, hoisted him, and put him onto the rocks. From there, Felix could pull himself a little further up before collapsing. William began to follow him, got halfway up, and banged his knee in the process. He felt tears coming to his eyes from the pain.


    No! He would not cry. He was the son of a Duke; he would act like it. Pulling himself further up, he fell forward to rest against the rocks. For a time, he lay there, exhausted and feeling a terrible headache coming up. Then, looking up, he saw Felix had turned around and was staring at the gray sky above. There was a strange smile on his face.


    "So there was land in this direction," Felix said. My education was with merit then.


    "Where were you taught anyway?" asked William, trying to distract himself from the pain in his fingers. "I mean, I knew you knew your letters when we met, but-"


    "A tutor educated me," said Felix.


    "You weren''t nobility," said William. "Father would have told me."


    Felix remained silent for a moment. "I''m related to someone important. He''s not likely to inherit anything, though. A very distant connection."


    William was curious to know how long precisely; they rested there on the wet rocks for a long time. Around them, the mist was burning away, and the sun was coming out of the clouds. It revealed green trees and reflected off the water. It would have been beautiful if it weren''t so cold and miserable. William shielded his eyes as they settled and looked out over the waters. He could see no sign of any ships, though not all the mist had cleared yet. He looked to Felix, who looked a bit stronger.


    "Where do you suppose we are?" he asked.


    "Seathorius, probably," said Felix. "This isn''t Haldren, and I heard the men say we were near that land."


    "That is the worst news I''ve heard all day," said William. "We''re near the land of Melchious, of the satyrs."


    "It won''t matter where we are if we don''t get off these rocks," said Felix. "What now?"


    "We swim along the shore," said William. "Until we find a place to climb up on dry land. Do you feel ready for another swim?"


    Then, there was a horn call, loud and shrill, from above them. Looking up to the cliffs, William saw a figure with goat hooves and a wild mane of red hair holding a horn. It turned and raced off. They had been discovered. Also, William would rather drown than be rescued by satyrs.


    "As ready as I''ll ever be," said Felix. "Let''s go."


    They plunged back into the water and labored with all their strength. Little by little, the cliffs got lower to one side. They saw no further sign of the satyrs; without the mist, they could see where they were going. This did little to ease William''s mind. He was deathly afraid that they would get up to shore only to be greeted by satyrs. Or have to swim away from a ship of creatures rather than be pulled out of the water.


    Neither of those things had happened yet, but he feared they would. On the other side, the dominions of the Shark Queen were below.


    Finally, they were swimming along a beach of white sand with a line of trees beyond it. They made for the shore, and the water got increasingly shallow until they crawled up the coast. The sand stuck to their wet clothes and bodies. They pulled themselves onward, unwilling to stop but unable to stand. Finally, near the forest''s edge, they stopped crawling and lay there. For a few minutes, they remained where they were, tired, freezing, and soaked. William felt he might die and realized they might if they stayed here. The wind was picking up, and his hands were feeling chilled.


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    "We..." he gasped. "We should take shelter in the trees."


    Felix did not answer. He looked almost dead as he lay there. William knew they could not wait for him to get up alone.


    Forcing himself up, William pulled Felix up, and they staggered on. Every step was exhausting, and it took hours to get anywhere. Yet William knew they would die of a chill if they stayed out in this wind. They both knew it. They could be sheltered from the wind in the forest''s eaves. When they got there, they collapsed against the side of a tree. There they rested only a moment.


    "We should," said Felix, "gather fuel for a fire. Warm ourselves."


    "That could draw the satyrs to us," said William.


    "It''s that or freeze," said Felix. "We can make a signal fire."


    He got up. It was more difficult than anything William had done before, but he managed it. Together, they searched the woods for dry sticks, leaves, bark, and fuel for a fire. Taking what they found, they piled thin sticks together with larger ones. Afterward, they put many dried leaves and bark underneath.


    Felix began to grind two sticks together, trying to create a spark. But, as William watched, he felt colder with every passing moment. Felix''s efforts needed to be fixed. Then, there was a spark, and the leaves caught fire. William and Felix leaned over them. They warmed their frozen hands and dried their bodies.


    The flames grew hotter as they added more fuel. Smoke was soon billowing up into the sky above them. Someone off the coast might see the pillar of smoke and come to rescue them. Yet they saw no ships on the ocean before them. They began to feel their limbs again, which was something. Even so, his lips and mouth were horribly dry, and he felt hungry.


    "Gods above, I''m thirsty," said Felix. "What I wouldn''t do for some water and food."


    "I wouldn''t take either from a satyr," said William, trying to sound bold.


    The weariness they had been trying to fight off gradually came on them. Then, finally, the darkness overtook the light. William realized they had been at this all day. Then, eyes drooping, he found himself drifting off. His last thought before falling asleep was that he hoped to wake up in the morning.


    William awoke the following day and found his throat was even more parched than last night. He was aching, and the sand covering him made him itch badly. Then he heard voices from somewhere. For a moment, he thought that Raynald had come ashore. Joy filled his heart. They would be rescued!


    Then he heard the harsh voices in nature, and his joy turned to dread. They did not belong to humans. He could not understand their speech but forced himself to look around. The fire was nearly dead; the last of its embers were cooling. They should have left a watch.


    Crawling past the fire, he shook Felix awake. The boy opened his mouth, but William covered it with one hand, then motioned with his other hand down the beach. Even as he did so, a pack of satyrs came around the bend wielding weapons. They were drawing near at an alarming rate. They hadn''t yet seen them and were talking freely in their tongue. Some looked as though they had been drinking.


    "Come on," said William, "we''ll make for the trees."


    They crawled forward on hand and foot while staying as low as possible. Then, slipping beyond the trees, they hid there. Then Felix wiped the sleep from his eyes and swore. "As soon as they see our campfire and the sticks, they''ll know we''re here," he said. "Let''s get some distance between them and us while we can."


    "But what if Raynald saw us?" asked William. "We can''t just move away from the shore."


    "The satyrs saw us first," said Felix. "Now, come on."


    They ran into the woods. Their bare feet were hurt on the gnarled roots of the trees. William felt lightheaded from lack of water, and his stomach growled from lack of food. The trees seemed to loom over them, and one of their branches somehow grabbed ahold of William as they moved. Struggling to break free of it, he could not untangle its claw-like branches from his sodden cloak.


    At last, he snapped off the branches and moved on.


    "One more sign for the satyrs to find us by," said Felix.


    Then, suddenly, they heard drunken whoops and cheers toward the shore. Without a word, Felix sprinted away, and William ran after him. He ignored the agony of his feet, for the voices drew nearer, and he dared not look back.


    The woods around him seemed to distort and change around them. The voices of the satyrs seemed to come everywhere and nowhere. The trees loomed higher and higher around them. The roots appeared to shift to grab their ankles. It was as if they had entered a realm of nightmares without a beginning or end. William realized they had no idea where they were going or what they would do if they escaped. That just made it all worse.


    Then William tripped on a root and hit the ground, having the wind knocked from him. His chest ached, and his whole body was numb with the shock. For a moment, he struggled to stand. Then Felix was by his side, pulling him up, and they ran. William felt he might faint at any moment and risked a glance back. He could see the satyrs gaining on them.


    One hurled a spear, and William ducked. The spear went over his head and plunged into a tree near him. A shadow passed overhead. It veiled the world in darkness, and the spear thrower screamed. William looked up to see blood streaming from his assailant''s eyes. Then, the satyr was consumed in a violet flame.


    William followed Felix up a hill. A tall white satyr dropped from above as they reached the top. It was the same one that had nearly killed them on the ship coming out of the treetops and landing before them. William froze in horror as he realized the satyrs had won. They had taken the boat and killed both Raynald and Rusara.


    Both his mentors were dead.


    No, it was impossible. The ships might have broken off; it must have been a stalemate. Before he could move, the white satyr grabbed him and Felix by the collar. It dragged them down the hill to throw at the feet of a short black female satyr. The white satyr said something on their tongue.


    The black satyr nodded while she replied, then motioned to William and Felix. The other satyrs were on them with ropes in moments. First, William''s hands were bound behind his back harshly, and he was forced to stand upright. His legs were also tied, and then they were carried on the shoulders of the satyrs through the woods.


    They were jostled and battered as they lugged through the forest''s darkness. Time stretched on as they went onward. It became darker and darker until he could hardly see anything save vague shapes. Not that it slowed the satyrs any. The trees did not seem to trip and bar their way as they had William and Felix.


    It was midday by the time they emerged once more into the light. A bleak and horrible-looking place welcomed them, patrolled by archers. It was a village of raised buildings of wood built into the branches of trees. Shacks were on the ground, made from many ill-cut boards, with small windows. The streets were filthy, and at the center of the town, a festival of some kind seemed underway.


    Satyrs were dancing in a circle, their bodies painted with red dye. They were clutching weapons and howled upwards. A group of seven dwarves clad in rags was chained to one side, and bonfires surrounded the ceremony.


    At the very center stood an idol of Melchious. William had never seen an image of him before, but he knew him on sight. He was a humanoid creature with talons instead of feet. On his back were the wings of a hawk, and his head was that of a vulture. In one upraised hand, he held a longbow and in the other several barbed arrows. It was both horrible and fascinating at once.


    William and Felix were thrown down to one side. The satyr warband that had captured them went to join in the festivities. For a while, they lay there. They observed the dances as the satyrs drank and performed unspeakable acts. Then, there was the ringing of a bell, and the rites halted. The dwarves were dragged forward by their chains, and the black satyr drew out a serrated knife. Getting behind one of the dwarves, she pulled back the dwarf''s head by the hair and cut his throat.


    Blood sprayed over the statue of Melchious, and cheers came from the satyrs. The black satyr went to the next dwarf and did the same to him. Felix averted his eyes, but William could not look away. He watched as, one by one, the dwarves were sacrificed and the statue stained red with blood.


    When, at last, the dwarves were all dead, the satyrs rushed forward with knives. They butchered the bodies like livestock and roasted the meat over the bonfires. More alcohol was brought out, and drunken revelry overtook them.


    Felix was throwing up. William felt his stomach churning but forced it down. He would not lose control. What was going to happen to them? Would they be eaten like cattle? William felt tears coming to his eyes, but he blinked them back. He would not cry before these creatures; he would not! William looked away in horror and pity for the dwarves as the sacrifices continued.


    Time passed as the revelry continued well after the sun had set, and darkness lay over the land. Then, when the rites had concluded and the satyrs were in a drunken sprawl, the black satyr kneeled by them.


    "Who are you?" she asked in Harlenorian. "And where do you come from?"


    William''s every inch hurt. He had been drenched and half-drowned. He had been frozen and carried around like a sack and would probably die horribly. But somehow, he forced his way up to a kneeling position. He held himself with as much dignity as could be managed.


    "I am the son of Duke Vanion Gabriel and the student of Raynald De Chevlon. They will come looking for me," he said.


    The black satyr considered this. "This is a good fortune that Melchious brings to us. We are lucky to have found you before the other villages. You will undoubtedly be worth a great ransom when he is done with you." She looked up at the white satyr. "Doltier, take his majesty to a special cage."


    Then she gripped Felix by the throat and drew him to eye level. Felix remained calm despite it all. "This one is the Calishan. Melchious'' messenger said nothing of him. Take him to the sacrificial pit. We''ll spill his blood for Melchious tomorrow night!"


    "He is a trusted friend of mine," said William. "And where he goes, I go."


    "You don''t have a choice." laughed the black satyr. "Take them away!"


    Melchious himself had sent the satyrs to capture him. And William knew precisely why. But how had he learned to attack Hrungeld''s ship? And how could William save Felix and himself?

 Chapter Four: Offers of Salvation

    The satyrs dragged William away from his friend to a pit on the outskirts of the village. A rusted iron gate covered in some growth was unlocked. Doltier hauled the entrance to one side with a hand. Then he pulled up William and drew out a dagger. William almost screamed as the blade surged toward him. The ropes around his hands and legs were cut with two swift movements, and Doltier, smiling, threw him in.


    William fell into the darkness and hit the earthen floor hard, clambering up slowly as he did. His every inch hurt, and he groaned in pain as the gate slid shut above him. One hand touched the stonework and found it damp and covered in moss, and there was an earthy smell. He could hear it locked above him. He could see only a little light through the grating above.


    Slowly, he pulled himself up. He had to get out of here. Had to save Felix. The satyrs were going to kill him if he didn''t do anything. Getting to his feet, he paced, checking the mortar in the stone. Perhaps he could loosen one of the stones and would find...


    Find what? A secret passage? The idea was laughable.


    No, if there were going to be an escape from this place, it would be out the way he came in.


    Gripping the stonework, William sought a handhold. After a few moments, he began to scale up the wall. His mouth was so dry, and he was so hungry, but he had to remain focused. Climbing up the wall, he reached the bars and grasped them. He set his feet against the wall and began to push against the bars, trying to dislodge them. They would not budge, and he finally dropped to the floor, defeated.


    He''d always been more robust than most boys his age. But that strength was insufficient to bend or dislodge metal from the rock. Returning to his idea of a secret passage, he checked the mortar to see if it was loose. It wasn''t, of course. So even if he''d found some, there was pure earth beyond. In time, he could dig a tunnel, of course. But he did not have time.


    William began to panic, walking back and forth while trying to think of some means by which he could escape.


    He had to get free of this place, whatever the cost to himself! He had to rescue Felix! He wanted to scream, to demand they let him free, but that would do no good. He should not give the satyrs any satisfaction. After all his pacing, it left him exhausted and without progress. Finally, he sat down against the rough wall and slid into a sitting position.


    Hours later, food and water were lowered down. William dared not eat any of the meat. There was no telling what, or who, it was made of. He also felt he should not drink the water for fear that it was drugged. Yet he was too thirsty to listen to this feeling and drank it. It hardly seemed to have touched his lips before it was gone.


    It dawned on him that there was nothing he could do with his power to escape this place. It hurt to think of it. He needed a miracle, and none seemed likely to happen. He wanted to cry, but he reminded himself that he was the son of a Duke of Harlenor. He resolved to pray.


    To which god? Laevian cared nothing for mortal affairs save insofar as they affected the wilds.


    Barden was a lord of trade and pleasant things.


    Coinfurth''s domain was mercantile, and William had nothing to trade.


    Mel''Zayer belonged more in the study than in a crisis.


    Isriath and Maius had no interest in dark and sunless places like this. They were of music and revelry, and he had no deeds to call on.


    Kafka, God of Madness, was out of the question, as was Baltoth and any of the Demonic Archons.


    Safara, Goddess of Love? She ate people.


    Farasa of Destiny? What exactly did he have to bargain with her. She had no obligation to him.


    Zeya, Queen of Heroes? He wasn''t a hero and hadn''t done anything impressive. Nothing beyond swimming for a day across shark-infested waters, anyway. And that was countered by not fighting the satyr.


    Rioletta of Fate was well-known as a weaver of webs and a sadist. She was a known compatriot of Melchious anyway.


    Karus'' perhaps? Goddess of Choice or whatever domain she represented now, it had become ambiguous. But, no, he was not able to offer her anything.


    Jaha, Goddess of Peace? A far-off deity of eastern lands and her domain had little to do with her.


    Barden? He rarely appeared and was most associated with trade and roads. There was little trade through Seathorius, so he''d have little power here.


    Imogen? He wasn''t that desperate.


    How many Gods did William know about anyway? Perhaps some God of Knowledge could help him? Well, what power could a God of Knowledge provide in these circumstances? William wondered if they had many agents.


    So, by all accounts, he was nothing to the Gods. Elranor, Lord of Death and Healing, and knights were his only option.


    But would the Lord of Knights even care? Felix was a Calishan, a race member who served his archenemy, and William was a coward. He had failed even to try to fight on that ship. Why should so great and mighty concern himself with them?


    Whether he would or not, William had to try.


    Clasping his hands together, he focused on connecting with the divine. "Elranor, my Lord..." he said. "I have failed you. For that, I am sorry. But Felix needs your help.


    "Send us aid and... and I will dedicate the rest of my life to your service. Just please don''t let Felix die!"


    He waited for a response. For a moment, he thought he felt a presence. It was searching through his most profound thoughts, judging him silently. Then it was gone, and nothing was happening. He was stuck in this place, waiting for his friend to die horribly.


    As time passed, it got gradually darker, and as the last light of the fading sun disappeared, he gave up entirely. Darkness came over the world, and not a beam of starlight reached him. He saw no sign of either Elranor or his captors.


    He waited there in limbo, his cuts and bruises stinging him badly. He wondered what good his service was to anyone? He couldn''t even avoid being captured. Then he felt it within the cell with him. It was not Elranor.


    A beam of moonlight shot down through the bars, and suddenly, the blue light became red. William raised a hand to shield himself from something he did not know or understand. He felt the heat on his hands, and daring to look up, he saw his shadow lengthening. First, it cast itself on the wall. Then, it shifted into the silhouette of a girl his age sitting or perhaps lounging in the air. He felt a sensation of agony from her, and he knew of only one explanation. Judging from her silhouette, she was Harlenorian or at least took one''s form. Harlenorian women tended to have huge breasts. But she was not one.


    She was a demon, like Melchious, whom Father had deceived long ago.


    "Well, as inelegant blubbering goes, yours is concise," the shadow said in a droll tone. "Let me return the favor. I am a being of no small power, and I''m here to strike a bargain with you."


    William stared at her. "Just how much of a fool do you take me for?"


    "You don''t seem very intimidated," said the shadow, disappointed.


    "Should I be?" asked William. "Rusara taught me of your kind. You are not here in your physical form. Which means you have only as much power as I give you. I need only command you to leave, and you will have to. And if you are here physically, I''m a dead man anyway.


    "I''m not interested; now go!"


    Nothing happened. The shadow looked at herself as though surprised she hadn''t disappeared. "Oh, look at that. A human has underestimated the power of hell. What an unexpected development. You know that commanding me to leave is more than words, do you not? The comments are merely symbolic of you closing your heart to me.


    "The only thing rejection symbolized was that making a bargain with me would be foolish. However, humans do silly things all the time. Knowing the consequences of an action does not stop you from taking it.


    "That requires an effort of will, and you have no such effort."


    "You''ll find me uninterested," said William.


    "That''s a lie, and you know it," said the demoness. "If there were no possibility of you accepting my offer, I never would have been able to enter your heart. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Now, we can get down to business.


    "I''m not listening," said William, looking away.


    "Very well," said the demoness, "I can''t work with someone who won''t listen. And you can''t banish something you can''t understand. So I''ll sit here until you are ransomed and Felix suffers a gruesome and horrible death."


    Elranor had not come, and time was of the essence. This might be the only way to save Felix.


    "Speak and be done with it," William said at last,


    He got the feeling she was smiling. "I knew you''d come around, dear."


    "Don''t use terms of affection with me, creature," William hissed.


    "You asked me before how foolish I thought you were," said the demoness. "A better question would be, "How desperate is your situation?"


    Very desperate, indeed. She made a fair point, though William would never admit it. "So you reason I should make a bad situation worse?"


    "Hardly," said the demoness, "I think you should make a good situation worse to save your friend."


    "A good situation?" asked William. "Are you blind?"


    "I hate to be the one to tell you this..." said the demoness, "actually, that is a lie. However, I am pleased to tell you this: you are far better off than you think. Oh, I don''t doubt this little holiday thus far has been very unpleasant, but you are almost certain to survive it. Your father will pay the ransom, and you will be sent home. Of course, Raynald and Rusara''s friendship with Duke Vanion will be strained. But this is all their fault, to begin with."


    "Are you trying to convince me to sell my soul by telling me my situation is better than I think it is?" asked William, hardly believing his ears.


    "No," she said, "I''m telling you that selling your soul is heroic. Your strength is insufficient; you have appealed to Elranor, and he has yet to answer. And really, why should he?


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    "You aren''t exactly hero material, after all."


    William looked away in shame. That was an understatement beyond compare; he had all but fled from battle. He had only used Felix as his excuse.


    "You saw that satyr and froze up," said the demoness. "You were terrified. You had to rely on your Calishan servant to bail you out. You don''t even feel bad about it. Even though your cowardice was what got you and Felix into this mess."


    "Be quiet," said William.


    "Before you offered Elranor your service as payment," continued the demoness. "Let me ask you: What service could someone like you possibly render the Lord of Knights? You don''t want to be a hero. You certainly aren''t any good at it. A hero would have joined the battle and vanquished that satyr singlehanded.


    "All you did was try to stay out of the way, and you didn''t even succeed.


    "Everyone is going to have to go out of their way to save you. All just because of who you are. It''s pathetic!"


    "I said, be quiet!" said William before rushing the shadow to strike it.


    He scarcely avoided bashing his head on the wall. A dark bubbling that might have been laughter filled the cell. The shadow reformed on the opposite wall.


    "I''m only telling the truth," said the demoness, "if you don''t like it, you should do something to fix the situation. Other paths could be pickier as to who may tread them. I realize that infernal bargains seem unattractive, but I''ll tell you a secret.


    "We get cheated a lot. The universe hates us because we refuse to play by its rules. So, it goes out of its way to turn binding contracts into loose guidelines at best. It is criminal. Many demons have provided service after service. All to be denied their rightful payment at the last minute."


    "If all that is so," said William, "then why are you telling me this?"


    "Because we don''t always get cheated," said the demoness. "I''m explaining this to you so you know that even if you make a pact with me, you may escape it. Now, are you interested in hearing my offer?"


    William knew he should refuse. Yet he could see no other option. "Just say it."


    "I will free both you and Felix," said the demoness, "and then I will pledge thirty years of service to you. In exchange, you offer your soul. I will serve you during those thirty years while you try to cheat me. You''ll have better chances than most. We''ve done studies, you know. Those who give their souls for the sake of another are three times more likely to escape."


    The shadow''s hand emerged from the wall with long black claws. "Come on; it could be fun."


    She was right ¡ª everything she said made perfect sense. Elranor had not come to help him, and he ran out of time. Demons could not lie when making bargains; it was part of their nature. William stepped forward, feeling hopeless. He had to help Felix and fix the mess he''d created. Reaching for the hand, he felt a sudden inaudible cry within him. His hand stopped. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him that this was the wrong choice.


    "Come on, a few more inches," said the demoness, grasping for him.


    He withdrew his hand and let it drop to his side. "Enough. Leave me be."


    The moonlight above waned, but the shadow held on. "Do you really think Elranor-"


    "Leave!" roared William.


    No more words were said. The demoness faded away, and his shadow returned to normal. William fell against the wall and sat down. Clouds had covered the moonlight, and it was now dark. Leaning back against the stone, he cried himself to sleep.


    William awoke the following day to feel the sun''s rays on his face from above. Yet another light was coming from within the cell ¡ª a tiny pinprick of illumination. Before his eyes, it began to grow, and a shadow appeared within it.


    The shadow became a figure and emerged from the light before it faded behind them. She was standing before William, an elven girl who looked the same age as him. But, of course, that meant she was much older. Her hair was flowing blue like the ocean, and she was dressed in the strangest outfit he''d ever seen. It was a knee-length gray skirt with a white button-up shirt. Around her neck was a red bowtie. Her shoes were strange, looked impractical, and had a fair-sized bust. Though it was small by Harlenorian standards. How did she not get chills like that?


    The girl looked around and noticed him. She sighed. Then she looked at a strange device on her wrist and sighed.


    "Wonderful," she said, "I''m sleeping in class. Well, this had better be good. Who are you, and why have you summoned me?"


    William stared, unsure of what to make of her or this situation. "My name is William Gabriel. Did Elranor send you?"


    "El-who?" asked Kiyora. "Unless he can make me fall asleep when I''m supposed to be doing schoolwork, I doubt it. So how do you need help?"


    "What?" asked William, hardly believing his ears.


    "You aren''t very bright, are you?" asked the girl. "If you called me here, you need help. That''s how these things work. So what do you need?"


    William strove to speak and, at last, managed it. "I''m standing before you in a cell not fit for dogs. I''m at the bottom of a pit with no shoes. I''m hungry and thirsting to death, and you are seriously asking me that question?"


    "Hey, no need to get snippy," she replied, "Most people who call me are far more polite. One moment." Her form shone with an unworldly radiance. She ascended upwards to phase through the grating above.


    For a moment, William wondered if he''d gone insane from stress and begun to see phantoms. It would explain a great many things. Then, there was a rumbling sound, and looking up, he saw the roots of a tree through the grating above. They strained momentarily, then fell to land on the floor in twisted and ruined pieces. Suddenly, a tree loomed overhead, and roots began to reach down. They grew longer and longer until they were at the bottom of the cell.


    The girl appeared above, staring downwards. Her long hair was hanging down around her shoulders. "Can you climb up those roots?"


    "I can try," said William, wondering who this strange girl was and how she commanded the trees.


    Rising, he raised his hands to the roots and climbed toward the surface. It was hard work since he wasn''t in the best of states, but the roots were more comfortable to climb than rock. He was also glad to be getting out, which drove him upward.


    As he neared the top, the girl reached down and offered him a hand. William took it and nearly lost his grip on the power he felt in his hand. It was as if she was made of magic. Which she probably was, for how else could she command the trees themselves? Or materialize from nowhere, for that matter. Even Rusara had never done that.


    Finally, he was drawn out of the pit. He dusted himself off as best he could, forcing himself to remain standing. "My thanks to you, milady. If ever I may repay you, you need only ask."


    "Wait a minute," she said, "did I miss something? Why are you acting all formal?"


    "I am trying to maintain my family''s dignity," admitted William, "for now, I must ask for your help again. A companion of mine has also been taken prisoner and will be-"


    "That''s it!" she cried. "I knew I''d seen you somewhere before! What are you doing in the dream world? I thought I and... well, never mind. I thought only I could enter it."


    William was at a complete loss. "I assure you, I have no idea what you are talking about."


    "Don''t play dumb with me!" she snapped. "I''ve seen you in class. Are you sleeping, too?"


    Powerful she may have been, but she was also quite mad. How exactly was William supposed to react to this? "Your delusions aside, my friend is in mortal peril and needs our-"


    "I''m back," said Felix.


    William and the girl turned to see Felix standing before them. He was dirty and tired-looking but unhurt. The Calishan boy was holding a sack over one shoulder. His eyes were haggard; he wore a new pair of boots that looked too big. He put down the bag before drawing out a new pair of boots and pressing them into William''s hands.


    "Felix," said Willliam, "how did you-"


    "I picked the lock on my cell," said Felix, "most of the satyrs were drunk after the festival, so they got sloppy. I stole what essential supplies I could, then headed in this direction to see if I could help you.


    "Oh, and I also set the satyr village on fire."


    William looked up and saw the beginnings of a smoke cloud rising over the treetops. Screams and cries of alarm could be heard. Unfortunately, it was likely that many people would die in the blaze. William remembered what the satyrs had done to the dwarves. All sympathy disappeared. "Good."


    "Put the boots on, and let''s go," said Felix. "They came from the dwarves; satyrs don''t wear boots. That won''t distract them forever. We must be far from here before they finish putting out the blaze."


    William slipped the boots onto his feet. Felix handed him a waterskin he had stolen as well. Then William and Felix headed off into the woods. The girl followed them. She looked more interested than afraid at the prospect of being pursued by satyrs.


    "Shouldn''t we be making for the river?" she asked. "You know, so you can fill your waterskins. There are dwarvish settlements on the other side."


    "I''ve meant to ask," said Felix. "What are you?"


    "This is... um..." began William.


    "My name is Kiyora," she said, "not that you bothered to ask. Also, shouldn''t you know this already?"


    "I told you," said William. "I''ve never met you before today."


    "Fine, play pretend if you want," she said. "Now-" Kiyora stopped and began to waver and glow. "Oh, man, I''m waking up. And this dream was starting to get interesting. The teacher is going to kill me..."


    There was a flash, and they were left alone in the woods.


    "...That was strange," said Felix.


    It was the tone of one who had seen an old friend.

 Chapter Five: The Nakmar

    Had William really seen that girl? The question beset him as he and Felix entered the woods. Indeed, they had not seemed natural to her. Such thoughts departed soon, though. They were in a hurry to escape the smoke rising behind them with all due haste. Memories of her beauty were on him, but he was more concerned about the green trees around them. More importantly, how they seemed to grasp for them.


    Once or twice, he saw torches in the distance and howls of rage from the satyrs.


    The landscape changed, however, as they got further out. There was no stumbling over roots or ducking below clawing tree limbs now. Instead, they moved with astonishing speed. William felt almost as though he was a wind passing through the trees. His feet didn''t seem to touch the ground once. His pains and aches, he realized, were gone. When he looked at his hands, the cuts had disappeared. It was a minor miracle in a day filled with them.


    He looked at Felix as they moved. "Felix, remind me to erect a shrine to Kiyora when we return home."


    "Why?" asked Felix.


    "Isn''t it obvious?" asked William. "She is some spirit or deity. I have to repay the debt, even if Elranor was the one who sent her." And he wouldn''t mind looking at her again.


    "All right," said Felix, "I won''t let you forget."


    They came out of the trees and found themselves on the bank of a river. The same river William had seen on many maps but had yet to honestly know how large it was. It stretched a considerable distance across. He knew at once that crossing it would be a challenging feat.


    Yet size didn''t matter much to him as he and Felix went down to the banks and drank. The water was heavenly on William''s lips, and he thought nothing would ever be as good. When their thirst had been quenched, they immersed themselves in the shallows. They washed the dirt and grime that had covered them from their bodies.


    Finally, they waded out, dripping wet. William felt very foolish as he tried to get some of it out of his hair. Felix did not even bother, his red eyes peering carefully at the water. "We should keep moving, Felix; the satyrs will come after us sooner or later."


    "Which way?" asked Felix.


    "This river is called Savior''s Run," said William. "I''m not sure why it is named so, some local legend, I think. It runs through the center of Seathorius. Then it heads through the elven reservations and Antion into the Ghost Mountains. If we follow it north, we should be able to find the shore. From there, we might create another campfire and hope for rescue."


    "Or wait to be recaptured," said Felix. "What are our other options?"


    William considered the question. "Kiyora said there are dwarven settlements along the other side of the river. If they aren''t friends of the satyrs, we might find shelter with them. Provided we can find a crossing place, of course."


    "So we can head north and hope to find the shore and a crossing," said Felix. "Which way is north?"


    William looked around silently. "I have no idea."


    "Fine," said Felix, "pick left or right, and we''ll go that way."


    "Right," said William before beginning to walk.


    Their going along the river was easier than before. It''s too easy for William''s liking, actually. The once hostile lands now seemed to conspire to aid them. He felt like some power was flowing through him and Felix, driving them on to swift progress. He began to suspect that it had much to do with Kiyora.


    They came to a place where the water was far lower so that they could see the stones of the riverbed. On the far side of the river was a watchtower. It was built in front of a hill with an exposed rock side. A dwarf was perched on it, holding a bow and scanning the surrounding area. A dwarf boy was sitting at the tower''s base, and he looked up with interest. As they approached, the archer notched an arrow.


    "Halt!" he barked. "Who goes there?! Stand and give an account of yourself!"


    William stopped at the bank''s edge and raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel. My companion and I washed ashore and were captured by satyrs. We escaped captivity and now seek shelter. Will you aid us?"


    "That isn''t my decision to make." called the lookout. "Cross the river and wait by the tower. Gunthred, go get Bjorn, will you?"


    "Yes, uncle," said the boy before scampering off. He disappeared into the side of the hill. Where had he gone? He was there one moment and was gone the next. It must have been magic, but what type?


    "Come, Felix," said William. "I''ll be glad to get onto the other side."


    "Fine," said Felix, "let''s go."


    The two of them waded into the water tentatively. It was deeper than it had looked and soon reached up to their waists. It got higher still as they went on, and soon it reached William''s neck. The water was cold, and the current against him was more challenging to fight against. Finally, looking at his friend, William realized it had reached Felix''s chin. They moved slowly, trying to stay on their feet with the current working against them.


    A loose stone gave way beneath William''s foot, and he fell forward to splash into the water. He was struggling beneath the surface in the river''s icy cold for a moment. Then he emerged from it, only to find himself being dragged downstream. Fighting to stay above the waterline, William saw the lookout coming to the edge of the bank with a rope. It was hurled into the water.


    "Grab hold!" cried the dwarf.


    William swam against the current as best he could and snatched for it. But, unfortunately, it slipped past his fingers. He beat his way forward furiously before grabbing it with one hand. Then, pulling himself ahead, he got back onto the ford and made his way along. Felix came up behind him and grasped the rope. Soon, the two of them reached the edge of the river. They emerged soaked and dripping wet, and William found himself shivering.


    "Are you all right?" asked the dwarf.


    For a moment, William could not speak. "Fine..." he gasped at last. "Thanks to you."


    There was a familiar hollering, and William looked up. On the far side of the river stood Doltier, and with him were many other satyrs. Suddenly, there was a horrific presence in the air. The same shadow that William had seen on the ship passed overhead. The waters began to lower down to ankle height. The satyrs moved forward with a terrible battle cry. They waved their weapons as they charged forward.


    Then came the dwarves out of the side of the hill, carrying bows and arrows and clad in leather armor with skull caps. They formed ranks, and one shot an arrow straight past Doltier''s ear. Or at least it would have had Doltier not caught the needle in one hand and snapped it between his fingers. Even so, he called his warriors to a halt.


    There was a tense silence between them. Then, finally, Doltier snarled something in the satyr''s tongue. An immense dwarf with braided white hair and a bald head came forward. He was clad in hide leather and had a sword at his belt with a cloak all around him. He shouted something back in a hoarse, old voice. Doltier waved his scimitar. The dwarf motioned to his archers while responding sternly.


    The conversation went on for some time. Eventually, Doltier lowered his weapon. The satyr motioned to his fellows, and they withdrew back into the woods. There was a long silence as the dwarves began to discuss matters among themselves. William sneezed while they were doing it, and they all looked up, startled.


    The dwarf who had spoken with the satyr came forward. "The satyrs and we have a truce. They have agreed not to pursue you so long as you remain with us."


    William breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. We saw seven of your people slain and devoured by those creatures and were afraid they would do the same to us."


    "Seven?" asked the dwarf. "What was-" he trailed off as he looked at William. He felt suddenly as if his entire being was being gazed through.


    "You are blessed by Queen Yagos. I am sure of it. But, something about your eyes," He turned to Felix. "And you, you have seen her as well, yet I sense the darkness in you. The touch of a demon is on you."


    William looked up at Felix in shock. "What is he talking about, Felix?"


    "I''m a Calishan," said Felix with a shrug. "My people worship a demon god. We make temples for his children. There has been a lot of intermingling."


    "Yes." said the dwarf. "I can see it. You have in you the blood of Baltoth."


    "What?" asked William, hardly able to believe it.


    "I am Bjorn Houndslasher," said the dwarf. "High Priest of Queen Yagos. You are both more than welcome to share our table as honored guests. We are holding a great celebration once we honor some of our elders'' ascension. Thus-"


    William sneezed again.


    "-I am certain I could arrange for you to be clothed in dry garments first, of course," said Bjorn. "Men, stand watch and be on the lookout for any more satyrs. You two follow me."


    Bjorn led them to the side of the hill and tapped one hand against it. There was a strange sensation as if a gateway was opening, yet William could see nothing that had changed. Then Bjorn motioned to them and passed through the wall.


    William looked to Felix. "Do you think it is an illusion?"


    "That seems quite likely," said Felix before stepping forward and passing through.


    William sneezed again and followed Felix. There was an odd sensation. William felt as though he was passing through something physical. This was no ordinary illusion. There seemed to be an unnatural substance on the walls he was walking through.


    He emerged into a dimly lit hall built inside the hill. It was toasty warm within, and the heat was a welcome relief. There were ten stone pillars in a circle. Around them was a series of fires on which many dwarves were cooking. There were boars and rabbits and various birds. The smell alone made William''s mouth water. For a moment, he completely forgot everything else.


    "Those roots," said Felix, "come from the tree above this place, don''t they?"


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    William looked up and saw that the ends of many roots were all over the top of the ceiling. In addition, there were several holes that the smoke from the fire was coming out of.


    "Yes," said Bjorn, straightening out his gloves. "That tree is always above this hall, wherever Seathorius shifts us. It was planted by Queen Yagos herself long ago. Stay right here a moment." He approached a female dwarf with a round face and hair tied over her head. "Moira, I know you are grieving; however, I must set you a task. These two need clothing, and if they do not change out of their clothes, they may catch their death."


    The woman did not answer for a moment, her eyes spaced out. Then she jumped. "I will get some for them at once, Master Bjorn," said Moira, bowing low before rushing off.


    Bjorn came up to them. "One of my servants. She is not of the Nakmar; we freed her from a satyr prison some years ago. She was close to some of those who ascended yesterday."


    "What do you mean by ascended?" asked William.


    "I mean, they passed beyond the dream," said Bjorn.


    "... I''m not sure I understand," said William.


    "Right, you are outlanders," muttered Bjorn. "I believe in outside realms; it is known as death. Moira is from the outside and never fully understood the truth."


    "What truth?" asked William.


    "Strangely, one blessed by Yagos should know so little of her teachings," said Bjorn. "The Dreaming Goddess teaches us that this world, as we know it, is but a passing dream. A fantasy of sorts conjured up by the minds of greater beings, soon to end and be forgotten. It is no more real for those we call gods than a tale of old legends is for us. Those who die in battle are reborn within the dream. Those who die peacefully pass on and are made real within the true world."


    "I see," said William.


    After a time, Moira returned with two sets of folded clothes. "These are all I could find at short notice. They were made for some of our slimmer warriors. They might be..." She sniffed. "They may be a bit big."


    "Thank you," said William, taking them.


    As it turned out, the clothes were rather loose around them, and William needed a belt to make them fit. Even so, getting out of the wet and clinging garments felt heavenly. He looked at his once beautiful clothes somewhat sadly. They were ragged and travel-worn and smelled of mildew. He doubted they would ever be of any use again.


    He still sneezed occasionally and began feeling more than a little sick.


    Felix''s clothes fit him even less, for he was thinner than William by a large margin. Bjorn looked over them. "Well, it is the best that can be managed. All is prepared, and we are to give the bodies of our brothers their last rites now. Will you attend?"


    William did not want to. However, neither did he want to offend. "We will."


    Bjorn led a procession out of the hill while William and Felix tailed behind. Finally, the bodies of three dwarves were brought up to the top of a mountain. There, they were laid out on the roots of the great tree. And it was then that William saw that the tree''s roots were mingled with many dwarvish bones. He felt a surge of horror.


    It only deepened as the dwarves turned away and departed.


    "Aren''t you going to bury them?" asked William.


    "We Nakmar dwarves do not bury our dead," said Bjorn. "Rather, we let nature take its course. We allow the beasts of Laevian and Typhos to feast on them so we will not invite their wrath. We mourn those we have been parted from away from the bodies of the fallen."


    "But..." William faltered, "Surely they deserve the honor of burning, at least."


    Bjorn looked at him strangely. "I have heard that Harlenorians and Calishans bury and cremate their ascended. It is a strange thing to do. Moreover, the ashes of the body cannot be eaten by animals. And in the dirt, they will be of little use."


    "It is a matter of respect," said William.


    "These are not our brethren," said Bjorn. "They have already left the dream. What remains is a shell, left behind and unmissed. But, come, the feast is soon to begin."


    They returned to the hall as the final preparations were made. As they waited, William examined carvings on the wall. Carved into the stone were images of conflict. A shadow hunted in the dark, thirsting for blood. Unholy rituals brought forth monsters from beyond the veil of reality. They were snakelike creatures with scythes for arms.


    Then came the girl. She appeared from the light, younger even than William. And where she walked, prisoners were liberated. She gradually got older as he went down the pictures until suddenly, he recognized her.


    "Is that Kiyora?" asked William suddenly, things clicking into place.


    "Yes," said Bjorn, "though we do not call her by that name often. The Dreaming Goddess came to us hundreds of years ago and helped us with many things. At first, her aid was small, finding lost livestock and such. She was very young then. Yet, as time passed, her powers became greater. And the deeds she performed became more extraordinary still. And she grew older, though she was slower to do so than even elves.


    "Each time she appears, she is older. The real world, it seems, has a different time from our own." He paused as a dwarf came to whisper in his ears. "Excuse me, I must greet some other visitors."


    As Bjorn departed, William looked to Felix. He remembered what Bjorn had revealed. Felix was related to Baltoth the Inexorable. And Baltoth, the most terrible enemy Harlenor had ever known. "So when were you going to tell me about your heritage?"


    "Never," admitted Felix, "my great, great grandmother was a consort of Baltoth. He has a harem numbering in the thousands, counting his living concubines. It doesn''t make me anything special."


    "...All right," said William. "I''ll say nothing to anyone." The demon god''s depravity was well known. William wasn''t going to judge Felix based on who his great-grandparents were. Soon enough, Bjorn returned, and with him came many other dwarves. They were led by a black-bearded dwarf who wore a crown of silver. His clothes were a sturdy make with a lot of furs. He eyed William and Felix doubtfully.


    "Bjorn, who are these?" he asked.


    "A son of Baltoth and his servant, nephew," said Bjorn. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Obviously, there had been a misunderstanding. "It is an honor to meet you," said William. "However, Felix is my servant."


    Bjorn looked at him oddly, then at Felix. "Is this true?"


    "It is a very long story, but yes," said Felix.


    "I see," said Bjorn. "Yet I was led to believe that humans had their servants speak for them while they were in an unknown land."


    "That is a Calishan custom," said Felix. "With Harlenorians, the custom is for the servant to say nothing. Their masters do all the speaking."


    "Would it not be simpler for all to speak for themselves, as we do?" asked Bjorn''s nephew.


    "Perhaps," admitted William, "but it''s a matter of tradition."


    "A strange one," mused the nephew. "Yet no matter. I am Wiglaf Houndslasher, King of the Nakmar."


    "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel," said William. "My servant is Felix, a close friend of mine."


    "I shall be very interested to hear your tale at the feast," mused King Houndslasher.


    "Then let us not hold it up any longer," said Bjorn. "Under this house on this day, all are equals and may speak freely."


    The dwarves all entered a side passage to gather around long tables. They numbered perhaps several hundred, and those were only the most prominent guests. There were others in other halls, drinking and eating just as merrily. William had a very fuzzy memory of the feast afterward. He remembered drinking delicious drinks and eating fantastic food. Dwarves were making mighty boasts of their heroic deeds.


    While they did so, a group of robed dwarves wrote them down. They scratched their writings down with ink and quill on sheets of parchment in one corner. William guessed that these people needed to learn the techniques for making paper.


    It was a recent innovation, though. It dates back to the beginning of Andoa II''s reign in Antion. Though that was before William was born. Comparatively recent, then.


    "Who are those dwarves, writing things down?" asked William.


    "They are my priests," said Bjorn. "Among their duties is recording the tales of valor told in this hall. The hope is that future generations might know of their ancestor''s greatness."


    "I see," said William before he noticed something else. Two statues sat at the far end of the table, sitting in the place of the ruler. He wondered why. Shouldn''t the King be seated at the head of the table? He decided it was not polite to ask.


    "Tell me," said William, "what day are you celebrating?"


    "Long ago," said Bjorn, "those now named Calishans were under the rule of the hated Dust Elves. Under their rule, they invaded Seathorius. As a result, many ancient trees were felled, and the dust elves sought to exterminate satyr and dwarves. So, they built a mighty citadel near the northern borders.


    "Yet then Baltoth the Great, the Inexorable, the Mighty, arose from the river and laid low their armies. Then, with his sword in hand, he drove them from Seathorius singlehanded. Then, he rebuked us for our weakness and cursed the castle the dust elves had built.


    "To this day, it stands, overgrown and haunted by unholy spirits. That is why we call it Baltoth''s Retribution. It forever reminds us of our former weakness." He paused. "Yet there is a rumor, a tale, that there is an artifact of terrible and wonderful power within it."


    William could not help but feel the conversation had changed subjects. Despite himself, he was curious. "What is this artifact?"


    "A mirror," said Bjorn. "It is said that the one who looks into it will see a perfect truth. That is a perilous thing, indeed. For such a simple thing may break nations. Yet one who looked on themselves with eyes unclouded would emerge far stronger. So it is known as the Mirror of Laevian. Once, I quested for it when I was young."


    "Did you find it?" asked William.


    "Of course not," said Bjorn. "Or else it would no longer be a rumor. No, I arrived at Baltoth''s Retribution after many perils and dangers. I found I could not take one step forward. I forced myself past my terror and got as far as the gate.


    "Then I saw a being with wings like a dragon and eyes of blue flame. And a tail with a blade shaped like a crescent moon on it. So I fled, and to my shame, I have never been able to go back. The horror of that place is too intense for mere words to describe.


    "Now, I am old."


    "Yet surely someone powerful enough will force his or her way in," said Felix.


    "They would have to be strong of will indeed." mused Bjorn. "And until a time when such a hero appears, the Mirror of Laevian will remain lost."


    "Why wouldn''t Baltoth just steal the thing when he sacked the place?" asked Felix.


    "I do not know," admitted Bjorn. "He was not a god then. Perhaps some enchantment of the dust elves held him back, and now that he is a god, the mirror seems of little account. But, undoubtedly, he has many other matters to consider as ruler of half the world."


    "But what are you celebrating?" asked William, losing patience.


    "Oh yes, that was the original question, wasn''t it?" asked Bjorn. "We celebrate the day when Baltoth arose from Savior''s Run."


    "I see," said William, glad to finally have an answer. "Is that why the satyrs didn''t attack?"


    "A long time ago," said Bjorn ''the satyrs never would have even considered a battle on this day. Yet they have since come under the sway of Melchious. He is a cruel and powerful demon who resides within this land. Years ago, there was actually a battle between us. Since then, we have held our celebrations below ground."


    "There are many more dwarves here than before," noted Felix.


    "What you see are visitors from many villages," said King Houndslasher. "We have learned to change our passages, so they all meet up on this day. Seathorius is far closer to the Dreaming Goddess than other parts. Thus it shifts and changes with her whims." He paused. "Tell me, what is the tale of your coming here? That alone has gone unspoken."


    William remained silent for a moment. "All right, I ought to start from the beginning." It appeared they were in for a very long night.


    William told them everything that happened. The words spilled from his mouth in an onslaught. It could have been a more neat and tidy story of the sort Rusara told; he often had to go back and explain points he had missed. He glossed over the battles; they could have been more interesting. Nor was he keen to remember them and had no talent for describing them. The bit that seemed to affect his audience the most was when he mentioned the dwarves the satyrs ate.


    "So that was their fate," said Bjorn sadly. "I cautioned them not to cross the river and violate the truce. But, thirsting for an adventure, they would not listen.


    "I will hope their next life has a happier end."


    William continued his tale. He described his imprisonment and all his attempts to escape on his own. When he came to the appearance of the demoness, everyone seemed very interested. He must have told the story well, and he added a great many details.


    "I think I know of this demoness," said King Houndslasher. "A lesser creature that serves Melchious. She came to this realm long ago. She ferries messages between his outposts. There are some on the other side of the river and those dwarves that serve him on this side.


    "Sometimes, she commands raiding parties."


    "If she serves Melchious, why was she offering to help me escape?" asked William.


    "No doubt, they had some use in mind for you," said the King. "They must have created a crisis hoping to strike a bargain to get you out of it. Or perhaps she merely seeks to usurp her master; such things are not uncommon. It is at this stage a question we will likely never hear the end of. Continue."


    There was an even greater interest when he got to the parts describing Kiyora. Murmurs of awe were common, and the dwarves writing it all down scribbled faster than was usual. When William was done, Felix was called upon to fully account for his side of events. Felix was far more verbose, dwelling on the glories of combat. His words excited the dwarves. William felt he told the tale far better than he had.


    The duel with Doltier, if it could be called that, was made a swashbuckling battle for the ages. This rather than the one-sided affair it had really been. His friend seemed to delight in exaggerations, making for a perfect story. William was perplexed; he had not seen this side of Felix before.


    The dwarves certainly liked it. But William noticed Felix skimmed over his escape from the satyrs and looked away. Even so, the dwarves were more excited about the whole thing. As they spoke of it, King Houndslasher seemed to be weighing something on his mind. "It is a good tale. I doubt Kiyora would favor you if it were not true. You have had a terrible journey, and I fear the worst may not be behind you. Seathorius only lets people go easily. Yet something troubles me.


    "You seem to hold Melchious in a more personal dread than we do. What is the reason for this?" William opened his mouth to make a flat denial, and somehow, he doubted that the King would call him on it. But it would be a lie, even to himself, and since the dwarves had been so kind, he felt he owed them the truth.


    So he told it.

 Chapter Six: The Tale of Vanion Gabriel

    Years before, William''s Father, Vanion, had returned from the Calishan Wars a hero. The latest siege of Cowcal had been greatly helped by several victories he won. His spear and the weapons of his companions had seen the Calishans beaten at Desora. The memory of them being driven into the sea by a mere fragment of the Harlenorian army. It had been unforgettable. The sunlight was glinting off spearpoints as they closed on the enemy. The cries of dismay and triumph had been breathtaking. Though he''d nearly lost his life.


    It was a sight he would remember, no matter how far he went in life. Alas, the attack had forced the siege of Cowcal to end early, but Artarq remained secure. The army had also taken much plunder and renown gathered.


    And yet he was in no hurry to get home and tell the story in the hall of his Father. That was why he''d let Raynald convince him to journey to visit the manor of the De Chevlons. It was a very awkward situation, for him at least. He''d learned soon on his arrival that only some of the De Chevlons were as eager as Raynald to mend fences. As the party continued around him, he felt like Raynald had only invited him to offend his relatives.


    It worked. Vanion kept getting icy glares from various members of the De Chevlons. A social person would have been able to win them over through sheer sincerity. But, unfortunately, he was not a social person.


    "Feeling isolated in a crowd?" asked a familiar voice.


    Vanion looked up to see Rusara leaning against a wall. The gray-skinned elf looked very beautiful after her fashion. Her violet dress suited her well. As did her silver earrings, an appealing change from the usual robes she wore. Yet she had chosen Raynald and not him.


    "More or less," he admitted, "I don''t see why Raynald even brought us here."


    "You were looking for an excuse not to meet your family quite so soon," said Rusara. "Raynald didn''t want to meet with his family and decided to use you to make a point."


    "What point?" asked Vanion.


    "I''m not sure," admitted Rusara, "that he still remembers their mistreatment of him. I gather there isn''t much love between him and his brothers. After showing them all up in battle, it would add insult to injury to bring you here."


    "An alliance between the Gabriels and the De Chevlons would be mighty," said Vanion. "You would think they would see past the fact."


    "Power or not, blood seeks more blood," said Rusara. "When you leave here, I should avoid traveling alone. Some De Chevlon''s are hotheaded and might decide to correct Raynald''s error."


    "So you aren''t coming with me?" asked Vanion, feeling more alone than ever.


    "I would like to see Carn Gable someday," admitted Rusara, "but I have been away from the Dusk Lands for decades. I do need to check in with my family."


    "Yes," said Vanion. "Family does come first."


    "Not for Raynald," noted Rusara, "or for you."


    "Yes, I suppose so," said Vanion.


    At that moment, the crowds shifted and parted. Vanion looked up to see the fairest woman he had ever seen. Her hair was wavy and dark, and her skin was light. She wore a silken white dress and walked with a grace that defied reason. Then Vanion saw the man on her arm, and Vanion almost cursed. He was far plainer than his wife, a very ordinary-looking sort. Nevertheless, Vanion tried and failed not to resent him.


    "Who are they?" asked Vanion.


    "Duke Margravine Borinius and his Duchess, Isabella," said Rusara. "He''s the Lord of Brisgald, one of the most important and formidable fortresses-"


    "I know what Brisgald is, Rusara," said Vanion.


    "Right, right," said Rusara, "he can trace his lineage back to the first King of Antion. His wife is a cousin of the King. People of great influence."


    "So I had guessed," said Vanion. "Why do you always tell people things that are common knowledge? I didn''t recognize them initially, but I know who they are now."


    "I''m trying to remind you of something important," said Rusara. "You shouldn''t become interested in them."


    "I''m not," said Vanion. "I just think I ought to speak with them."


    Duke Borinius was speaking with Raynald now. They were getting on very well. Vanion parted company with Rusara and approached. He needed to figure out how to introduce himself. It would suit his standing to make a favorable impression with the Duke of Brisgald. He had to keep focused. Even so, he''d never been good at talking with people, and as he approached, he grew increasingly nervous.


    He decided that he would go elsewhere. There was no sense in disturbing them. At that moment, Raynald looked up and saw him. "Ah, Vanion," he said. "I was just telling Duke Borinius some tales of our adventures."


    "You seem to have had many of them," noted Borinius. "I''ve already heard of your victories in the Calishan Wars."


    "There isn''t much to tell," said Vanion, keeping his eyes off the Duchess. "I did my duty in what way seemed best. Raynald is the real swordmaster here."


    "You belittle your talent," noted Borinius. "No others I have spoken to share your views. But, in my experience, men who command are not always those who fight well. With no disrespect to Raynald, of course."


    "None taken," said Raynald, pleased to find someone who didn''t judge him by his looks. "I prefer to think of myself as a blunt instrument. Vanion guides me to where I''ll do the most damage once he sets me loose. We work well together."


    "An uncommonly down-to-earth viewpoint." mused Borinius. "This is my wife, Isabella." Now, he had no choice but to look at the Duchess. As he took one elegant hand, Vanion found a lump forming in his throat. But, of course, it didn''t help that she eyed him with a particular appreciation. "Milady, it is a pleasure." Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No, the pleasure is all mine," said Isabella. "I have heard such great tales of you and your companions? Tell me, are you, as some say, close with the Lady Rusara?"


    Vanion wanted to avoid where this was heading. Not because the question seemed improper. It was more because of the disobedient fantasies that played across his mind. He was rescued from having to answer when Rusara herself appeared.


    "You should not listen to rumors," said Rusara. "My relationship with Vanion is one of friendship. But, in truth, it is with Raynald that I am quite taken."


    "Indeed?" asked Borinius, surprised. "You told stories to me when I was only a boy. I never thought you would be taken with anyone, let alone a... human." He sounded like he was about to say something else. Then his eyes glanced at the cloak, which concealed Raynald''s withered arm.


    Raynald let it pass. Vanion supposed he was used to it by now.


    Isabella smiled in a manner that made his heart flutter. "I am glad," she said. "One such as yourself, Vanion, ought to be promised to a woman of high and noble blood."


    Something about the way she swayed as she said those words affected him. Yet the allure was entirely broken by the realization that Rusara had been insulted. "Excuse me, I will walk in the gardens."


    He entered the De Chevlon family gardens and walked among the hedges. Was it him, or did Isabella seem to fancy him as much as he did her? His thoughts about her were dishonorable, and he should thus seek to avoid her. Vanion had only an arranged marriage to a woman he loathed to look forward to. The Lady Mara Hawkthorne came from a family of merchant lords.


    In theory, it was a good match. House Gabriel was short on money and had a great deal of respectability. It would also give them a claim to the throne of Escor. House Hawkthorne was immensely rich. But they lacked the respect of neighboring lands in Antion. A link between their families could be overpowering.


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    It could be.


    But Vanion disliked Lady Hawkthorne and her treatment of those beneath her. And he suspected that her family wasn''t near as wealthy as they claimed to be. Not that Father ever listened to him. He was too dead set on regaining the throne of Escor, not realizing it was already lost.


    Vanion came out into a square enclosure with a fountain. It was bubbling with crystal-clear water at the center. Something about the place troubled him, and he could not drive Isabella from his thoughts. It was maddening.


    The whole thing was unfair. Why should he be promised to another without his own consent? He was a master of armies, and yet he could not even be the master of whom he married first. He had been called a hopeless romantic, and perhaps he was, but he could not change his feelings. Then, he could refuse it, just as she could. Yet that would be politically disastrous for their families. It would also be a violation of their duties.


    Vanion paced back and forth, becoming no calmer as he did so. He could not drive her beauty from his mind, and the more he tried, the more he desired her. He could not have her, of course. It was both impossible and dishonorable. Not only was she already married, but even if she were a partner in such a crime, the opportunity simply did not exist.


    "You can have her, you know," said a calm voice.


    Vanion halted and looked up. Leaning against one of the hedges stood a figure clothed in a white tunic. His hair was long and golden, and his eyes a brilliant blue. He was very handsome, yet his features were almost girlish. He was looking at Vanion with a friendly bearing, but Vanion did not like the look of him. He wasn''t sure why.


    "Who are you?" asked Vanion.


    "Call me Melchious," said the man, walking forward.


    Melchious! Vanion drew his dagger and took a stance. Melchious laughed merrily. You would never think him a demon from the way his voice rang with music. "Please, please, put down your weapon, knight. If I desired you dead, I should have slain you before you knew I was here. I am merely here to strike a bargain."


    "I am not selling my soul," said Vanion.


    Melchious smiled and widened. "Please do not underestimate me, sir knight. I know well that one such as yourself would understand. An eternity of damnation would not be worth any worldly pleasure.


    "No, my aspirations are far more humble than that."


    Vanion found himself sheathing his dagger in relief. He could trust Melchious; why not? What was he thinking? This was a demon, yet Vanion felt he should regard him as a trusted friend. Something about his voice. "What do you want?"


    "To help you, of course," said Melchious. "I assure you the arrangement I wish to come to is mutually beneficial. I need no service from you, no dishonorable deed you would not do anyway with half a chance. Only a small thing-"


    "What are you offering?" asked Vanion, wanting to cut to the chase.


    Melchious seemed annoyed at the interruption, and his smile lessened momentarily. He seemed a little less glamorous for an instant and far colder. Then it passed. "When these celebrations are over, Duke Borinius will return to Brisgald. As is his custom, he will go hunting sooner or later. Such trips take days, even weeks.


    "When he departs, I will transform your physical appearance to be like him.


    "His mother would not know the difference between you and him. Entering his abode, you may have your way with the beautiful Isabella, and no one will ever know you were there. Your desires will be satiated, and she will have a son."


    Vanion opened his mouth to agree, and he could hardly stop himself. Some magic of Melchious'' was driving him to be reckless. He knew he ought to refuse outright and end this at once, yet it seemed more a harmless joke than the crime it was. Was it so significant?


    A voice urged him to accept it without asking further. Vanion was not such a fool. "I take it there is some price to this offer."


    "Price?" mused Melchious as if the idea had just occurred to him. "Well, yes, there is one. If indeed, disposing of the evidence can be considered a price. The son born of your lust will be mine. The child will have been created under my authority. Thus, it is only fitting that I hold influence over it.


    "But it will hardly be your problem. Borinius has been without a child for years. It is a source of some humiliation for him and his wife. If and when he finds out about the child, even if he suspects the truth, he will not reveal it."


    "How does this benefit you?" asked Vanion.


    The question annoys Melchious further. He did not seem to like being questioned. "A just question. I have many plans that may take centuries to come to fruition. Nevertheless, having authority over a noble bloodline could give me a significant advantage. And some greater ones.


    "You need not fear such machinations. They will bear fruit long after you are dead, and in the meantime, you will get what you want. What else is there?"


    "Quite a lot, I''ll wager." mused Vanion, but he realized he was actually considering it. It was disgraceful! This was utterly dishonorable, and he would have no part in it! "Leave."


    Melchious took a step back and sighed. "Yes, I suppose such momentary value when considering the honors you have received." He turned to walk away, pointedly not saying them. They did not exist.


    Vanion considered what honors he had been given for his victories? Nothing. He had kept Artarq from falling into the hands of Baltoth. Yet it was Lord Argath Marn who was given the position of governor. He''d orchestrated many victories, yet it was Raynald and Rusara who everyone cheered.


    What had honor gotten him? What pleasures had it denied him?


    "No one needs ever know what happened here tonight," said Vanion.


    Melchious stopped and turned with a smile. "I knew you had it in you."


    He was before Vanion offered a hand. Vanion reached for it but halted. He felt as though something was screaming at him to stop, not go further. He should have abandoned this plan before it was too late.


    Then, he felt a surge of spite for those who had snubbed him. For the King of Antion for giving Artarq to the highest bidder instead of the one who saved it. For Borinius. How he had revealed his contempt for Raynald was unforgivable for Isabella. She had treated Rusara with such disdain. They deserved it ¡ª all of them.


    It was the most foolish, reckless, and dishonorable thing he''d ever do, and he knew it at the time. It didn''t stop him, though. He clasped Melchious'' hand.


    Melchious let go. His smile faded, and he drew back, seeming paler and less fair. "Excellent; when you pass Brisgald during the return journey, you''ll know where to meet me. We''ll make arrangements then. Until that day, farewell, Sir Vanion Gabriel."


    Then he was gone as though he''d never been there in the first place. Rusara came around the corner, looking concerned. "Vanion, are you all right? You didn''t need to leave on my behalf." She halted. "You look pale. Is something wrong?"


    Vanion looked at his palm, feeling like a mark should be there. Yet there was nothing ¡ª not a sign of what had transpired. So no one would ever know. "No, I just needed some air. We''d best get back."


    "Right," said Rusara. "I''m leaving this morning, so we''d better make the best of tonight."


    "So am I." realized Vanion.


    His departure could not come soon enough.

 Chapter Seven: Dishonor

    Brisgald loomed like a claw reaching up to scratch the sky on a terrible horizon. Its keep was shaped like a crowned skull, and its towers were crooked and twisted. The villages around it were impoverished and laboring. Here or there, you could see merchants selling their wares. Some were as far away as the Furbearers of Southern Antion. There were also the pale and dark-haired men of Escor. Their roofs could have been better maintained, with roofs decaying and overgrown roadsides.


    Meanwhile, the people were sick, starved, and malnourished. The militia, such as Vanion, had seen their drills. The backbone of the Harlenorian army needed to be kept in shape according to the regulations.


    What would Borinius do if he had to raise an army? What would the people do if they had to submit one? It was the expectation that the people be strong enough to represent themselves. Was he trying to keep them weak?


    As he walked on, watching an ox cart pass him by with a fat merchant, Vanion felt a sense of resentment. How did these men who were not warriors have more prosperity than him? They were buying up cartloads of grain and taking it down to Antion to feed the people there. King Andoa II created an extensive grain supply system for the populace. But as he aged, that supply system had become corrupt.


    Vanion suspected that large amounts of the grain bought were being sold elsewhere. Likely to Sorn, who had little farmland and had not used the usual markets. House Kaba was well known for this trick, using black markets to bypass the usual channels. And those channels were worth less, with the Thieves Guild getting ever more powerful. The King''s Road was filled with tollhouses and required endless bribes. So most people had to take backroads, where bandits wandered.


    Vanion saw the bodies of men left hanging from trees as a warning. Birds had pecked their eyes out. A sign said that they were thieves who had been caught stealing food. An armed guard clad in heavy armor stood guard by them. Vanion approached them.


    "Tell me, why are you men posted here?" he asked.


    "Duke Borinius commanded that these be left to rot," said the guard, standing up straight. He had a beard and looked to not be hungry, but he looked uneasy about the corpses. "I''m to make sure no one comes along to take them down."


    "What could they have done?" asked Vanion. One of them was a child. "Stealing food is not normally punished by hanging. Instead, the courts almost always order them given a redemption quest."


    The guard bit his lip and looked incredibly uncomfortable. The commoners walked past the gallows laboring. "Well, there have been a couple of bad harvests these past years. Borinius sells many crops for a profit and uses them to buy luxuries and weapons. Some of these peasants tested his patience one too many times by asking to keep more of their crops. He had them hung.


    "And so many people are going hungry now that there just isn''t enough food. So everything has become a hanging offense, like in House Korlac out west."


    "And what do you think of this?" asked Vanion. Vanion had always disliked John Korlac, the Heir to the House. The man maintained a ruthless order in his country. He hung criminals whenever possible. Though no one was going hungry like here, he was a shrewd politician and great warrior.


    "It doesn''t matter." said the guard. "I''m a man at arms. Borinius sees to it that my family and I are well-fed. What happens to these is his affair, not mine."


    "Of course," said Vanion. "I apologize for asking." If someone didn''t make it their affair, everyone here would die. But, of course, this would never have happened if King Andoa II hadn''t abolished the militia system.


    It had been created by Anoa the Bright to make sure the commoners could kill tyrannical nobles. It would take a mass uprising, but it gave them bargaining power. But in an era of peace and prosperity, the idiots had traded away their spears for silver. And now that silver had been melted into a collar.


    As he moved closer to Brisgald, a mist fell over the lands. The trees began to change, seeming more and more claw-like. Soon, he could see little beyond the treetops save Brisgald looming overhead. Vanion recalled that Brisgald and Carn Gable had once been Withering domains. Then Anoa the Bright had purified Brisgald. He had conquered a great battle that had a dozen stories about it.


    It did not involve directly taking the walls. Not even Anoa the Bright could seize Brisgald by force.


    This could be said for every story about Anoa, really. He would likely have been a god if Anoa had not fiercely refused to have any god save Elranor. Finally, after years of misery and fighting, humanity had gotten Elranor. Elranor, the God of Death and Healing. It had been a bitter victory that Vanion thought was worth it.


    Things only began to go wrong after Anoa won. Then his old enemies started seeking, and everything spiraled out of control.


    But then, the castle did not look purified because of the oceans of blood Anoa had spilled. If anything, it was falling back into corruption beneath the mist rising in the woods. Moreover, the underbrush had not been cut, so any force trying to attack would find it easy to advance. So what had Borinius been doing all this time?


    He ought to lose his titles. But no noble lost their titles anymore, ever since it became taboo to kill each other. The usual way a noble lost their titles was a death on the battlefield, but the era of peace brought by Andoa ended that. Now, Lady Atravain was buying up land with help from Kafka. And she was throwing off people who couldn''t pay their debts. House De Chevlon was situated in Blackfear and other darker places. Their vampires stalked their people and other undead. And Gel Carn remained well protected under Hadleim and Sir Frederick.


    Everything was set for Antion''s destruction in a decade or two. Or for the Heir of Kings to arise and make everything right.


    Only House Gabriel was left outside. In times of peace, Vanion had no prospects for advancement. In times of war, he was always subordinate to lesser men. Nevertheless, he knew his quality and would not bow again to Argath Marn. A corrupt and brutal raider, devoid of compassion and decency. Nor would he kiss the ground at Kafka''s feet, a mere adventure chosen solely for talent at the battle.


    And in Haldren, the last holdings of his house were on the verge of being taken. To be dismissed, thrown aside when no longer helpful. Many nobles spoke of the value of Carn Gable in front of him as though to mock him.


    No.


    Vanion would not bow to this Heir of Kings and take the role of a mere steward to a worthless


    King like Gavin. Nor would he allow himself to the second of lesser men, devoid of cunning or intellect. He was Vanion Gabriel, victor of Desora, though Gail Arengeth might lie for eternity. He was the heir of Erik the Voyager, who wandered far across the lands and mapped the coasts of Calisha.


    Brisgald would be his.


    He had no use for the woman.


    Vanion scaled a tree and found that it rose over the mist so he could see the countryside for miles. Seathorius was somewhere in the distance. Where it began, and Harlenor ended remained a matter of debate. That was likely why Melchious wanted to increase his influence in this place.


    Well, Melchious would get nothing out of this deal.


    Vanion knew that a man as careless as Borinius must have many dark secrets. It was likely he was already taking bribes. He would find his records and give them to King Andoa in the worst possible way. Vanion would destroy Borinius, this simpering weakling who let his people starve. He would strip him of everything, his title, rank, and dignity, for all that was his was rightfully Vanion''s.


    Argath Marn too, would lose everything before the end. But that would be a matter for another time. For now, Vanion had Borinius to settle with.


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    However, a voice in his mind, the one who had tried to stop him, noted that bad things were already happening. And who was Vanion to stand in judgment?


    "Ah, there you are," said Melchious, emerging from the mist. "I''m glad. Are you prepared?"


    "As prepared as I will ever be," said Vanion bitterly.


    "Excellent," said Melchious, motioning to Brisgald''s gates with one hand. They groaned open. Out of them came a party who made their way down the slopes. "See now; the Duke is off on his hunting trip. Now is our chance."


    He set a hand on Vanion''s shoulder. There was a shifting in the world, and Vanion gasped. His voice was different, and he looked at his hands to find them different. Finally, he looked up to Melchious. "I appear as he does, then?"


    "Of course," said Melchious. "Come, we must reach the gates. When the next morning dawns, the spell will be broken."


    As they made their way through the trees, Vanion felt he was being watched. He was being watched with disapproval at that. He was sure what he was doing was wrong, but it was too late to return now.


    Soon, they found the slope leading up to the gates of Brisgald. And Melchious had disappeared. Vanion scaled towards the gates, which loomed above him in the mist. He realized how foolish this entire thing was. He might appear as Duke Borinius, but he did not know anything he knew. He had none of his relationships or understanding. He didn''t even see the interior of Brisgald. This was a foolish plan, even from a pragmatic perspective.


    But a foolish act was better than decaying into nothingness.


    "Who goes there?!" came the call. "...Duke Borinius, what has brought you back here so soon?"


    He was caught. It would be best to improvise. "Something extraordinary has happened," he said. "I do not know where the hunting party is, for I cannot remember much. Not even names." What now? He could go to meet Isabella, but that would be suicide. Isabella had known Duke Borinius for years; she would detect that it was not him.


    The gate opened, and a guard came forward, falling to one knee. There was no going back now.


    "Take me to my office. There are documents I must see to," Borinius had an office, didn''t he? Indeed, all lords needed such a place to attend to their duties.


    "As you wish," said the guard, "Duke Borinius." Vanion had gotten lucky.


    "And I''d rather not have too many people know I''m here," said Vanion. "Say nothing of my presence to anyone."


    "Of course," said the guard.


    When he was within, and the gates closed behind him, Vanion realized his error. He should have raced into the night when the call went out. Instead, the watchman had recognized him. Still, when the real Borinius returned, it could have been dismissed as a trick of the light. Now, he was well and truly stuck. He tried not to let his unease show as he was led to his office, and the door opened.


    "Thank you," said Vanion, nodding to the guard. "Return to your watch."


    Borinius'' office was neat. Everything was sorted and filed into sections with various titles. Bookcases were nearly spilling. For a moment, Vanion was reminded of the library at Carn Gable, where he''d spent many an hour reading. It was a familiarity that helped soothe his shattered nerves.


    Sitting down at a desk in the center of the room, he began to look through the various letters. It was partially because he was curious and wanted to take his mind off things. There were years'' worth of notes in this place, all filed away with dates written. On one side of the desk was a locked black box.


    Vanion decided to start with recent ones. He found many letters from Lords pledging their troops to the throne King Andoa II. This struck Vanion as odd. Artarq had been secured. The war had settled down as Calisha and Harlenor returned to lick their wounds. These sorts of messages would be natural ordinarily. But only if they were pledging to a full-scale military operation. At first, Vanion thought, they might have been misfiled. Yet there were dates on some of the letters, and they were recent, even days ago.


    Something needed to be fixed here. Vanion began to search through the other documents, hoping to find information. Then, he found a letter from King Andoa II indicating that he was coming to visit Brisgald. It was recent. And there were others as well, letters of goodwill from an Arkan Lantan, a rising thief. And also, from Duke Letan Marn and several foreign dignitaries, as though he were King.


    The door opened, and Vanion looked up to see Isabella looking through. Her beauty meant nothing to him now.


    "Margravine," she said, "what are you doing back here?"


    "Something came up," said Vanion. "I was reading through some old letters. One from the King, in particular."


    "You had better not be having second thoughts now," hissed Isabella in sudden venom. "We''re too deep now for you to draw out like you always do. Or are you saying you don''t want to be King?"


    This was going perfectly. Treason was afoot, and House Gabriel was not involved. Vanion could have Borinius and all his allies hung. Once they were, someone would have to replace them, and who better than the one who exposed them in the first place?


    If nothing else, it would provide enough chaos in the ranks to advance by other means. Then, he could go far with Raynald and Rusara''s support. "Of course not, dear," said Vanion. "I''m wondering where he is now."


    "Moira tells me he is coming here now," said Isabella. "You''d know this if you consulted our castle sorcerer."


    "Right, yes, of course," said Vanion. "...I think I shall go and rejoin the hunt in a moment."


    "Good," said Isabella, "I need space from you." She crossed her arms. "What happened to bring you back here so quickly? And alone. You never go anywhere alone."


    "I was separated from the others when a shadow passed over me, blacker than the darkest night," said Vanion. "I think I was knocked unconscious. When I awoke, I was lying down, and my head was fuzzy. The others were gone." So pathetic. Was this how Borinius allowed his wife to treat him? As though he were a stupid servant to be sent and directed as she willed?


    "Well, whatever it was, it isn''t my problem," muttered Isabella. "I''m going back to bed."


    Vanion wanted to follow her as she left, but he crushed it. No, what he was doing here was far more critical. It was now clear that Duke Borinius was planning outright treason. With the King of Antion approaching Brisgald, he might very well be murdered if he came here.


    Vanion had to get out of here. But first, he''d need proof of Borinius'' misdeeds.


    Looking through the various documents, he found ones that hinted at the true plan. Various statements offhand, which alone were not much, but together were suspicious. Borinius had been preparing an army, planning a coup. And it would begin when the King got here.


    He opened the black box he''d seen and piled the relevant documents into it. Then, shutting it, he closed the box and stood up. Borinius'' plans still needed to be completed. There was still time to stop the situation before it became a civil war. Vanion reminded himself that he must keep good intentions, as well as his advancement. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Rising from his seat, Vanion glanced behind him and saw that morning was coming. He carried the box with him out the door and into the hall. Then, quietly, he shut the door behind him.


    He made his way quickly back the way he had come. Several times, he passed guards who greeted him, and he nodded to each one in turn. Each time, he feared he''d make some misstep that would reveal him as an imposter. The black box beneath his cloak felt heavier than the entire world.


    Yet he did not misstep, and soon, he reached the gate.


    "Sir," said a guard, "you mean to go out alone?"


    "Yes," said Vanion, "there is something I need to attend to, and it won''t wait."


    "Are you certain?" asked the guard. "I could send some men with you."


    The morning was coming. Vanion could see the sun''s aura radiating in the distance. He was running out of time. "This must be done alone," said Vanion. "Now open the gates, damn you."


    The gates creaked open slowly. What took only moments seemed to take ages, but at last, Vanion walked through. Making his way down the path as quickly as he dared, he reached the road and walked faster. This situation had to be dealt with.


    As he walked down the path, the wind wailed through the trees. The branches leaned downward ever closer, and the mists arose again. Vanion could sense something in the clouds and put one hand on his sword.


    "Where do you think you are going, Vanion?" came the simple question.


    Vanion felt his heart skip a beat. His body was freezing; his hands were shaking. The morning must have dawned, for the disguise melted away around him. His skin was crawling as a shadow loomed in the mist. Vanion drew his sword and turned toward the shadow, yet it was gone.


    "Well?" came the question.


    "I''m going to report Duke Borinius'' treason," said Vanion. He''d been hoping to get out without being seen. So, his best bet was that Melchious could not hurt him. But, just in case, he readied to draw his sword.


    "That was in no way part of our arrangement," said Melchious.


    "Indeed?" asked Vanion. "Well, other arrangements have been made. That plan of yours was terrible. I had no idea where Borinius'' bedroom was, let alone how to impersonate him."


    "Are you trying to cheat me?" asked Melchious, amused.


    "I would have thought you, a demon, would hold an appreciation for what I am doing. Instead, I am following the letter of an arrangement. All while ignoring its intent," said Vanion. He was trying to put on a bold face. "Nothing has been born of my lust, and so nothing is your due."


    "Is that so?" asked Melchious. "I understand it all too well."


    A shadow swooped out of the mist, and Vanion ducked as a black claw went for his throat. Lashing out with his sword, Vanion felt it impact something, and there was a screech of pain. His sword was grabbed and wrested from his hand, and his enemy bore down on him, gripping his neck and squeezing.


    Choking, Vanion drew out a dagger and stabbed wildly. The grip loosened with an unholy shriek, and he broke free, slashing desperately. Then, something lashed out and threw him across the dust. Stunned, he was barely able to roll aside as the shadow descended. With his hands, Vanion tried to keep it away from him, and they grappled there, rolling in the dust. Its claws were leaving bloody gashes in his arms. With every passing moment, the shadow was getting closer to his throat.


    Then, a beam of white light shot out of the mist and hit the shadow. It screamed and took flight as a man in pure white armor that concealed his face came into sight. Vanion winced at the pain of his wounds. The shadow returned. Yet the man raised his sword in a challenge, and the creature hesitated. It fled.


    "Well, you''ve had an eventful day, haven''t you," said the man. "What possessed you to travel alone?"


    "Pure idiocy," said Vanion, finding the black box and picking it up. "My thanks to you. May I ask your business in these parts?"


    "I am walking ahead of the King''s entourage," said the knight. "Might I ask you the same question?"


    "I am Vanion Gabriel," said Vanion. "I have an urgent message for King Andoa. It cannot wait." He paused. "It is a matter of treason."


    The man drew off his helm, and Vanion stared in shock as he beheld who it was he had been speaking. He stood up straight and fell to one knee as the man came forward.


    "Really?" asked King Andoa II of Antion. "Do tell."


    Now, to tell the story right.

 Chapter Eight: Lair of the Beast

    "The King had been going ahead to clear his mind. But, as soon as Father showed him the documents he found, things changed. He once searched the forests with his guard, found Borinius, and took him as a prisoner. The Duke was tried, found guilty, stripped of his title, and given a gilded prison to live out his days within.


    "Brisgald was given to House Gabriel. After my grandfather died, Father became Duke of Brisgald and gave it to his brother, Arthur. As well as Lord of Carn Gable," William finished his story.


    "Wait a minute, so he proves the evil overlord is guilty of treason. Brings it to the right people, and the bad guy just gets off scot-free?" asked Kiyora. "That''s a terrible ending!"


    "I''m telling you what happened, not-" said William before he stopped. "When did you even get here?"


    "A while ago," said Kiyora. "I usually dream on these occasions."


    "I share my goddess'' bemusement," said Houndslasher. "Why would they let Borinius live?"


    "Borinius had a great many relatives and friends," said William. "He''d have had to for his plans to succeed. King Andoa II is well-known for his mercy and doesn''t want to start a blood feud. Many shared your view and wanted to see him hung, but Andoa is King of his land." He sighed. "Father cheated Melchious, and he prospered for it. The Gabriel clan became even more potent than it was before that night.


    "My Father ruled over Brisgald in Grandfather''s name. He made things far better for everyone. Reduced taxes and ceased the cruelties that Borinius perpetuated. When Father inherited Carn Gable, he gave Brisgald to his younger brother, Talion. Melchious got nothing.


    "To have done great good with no benefit to himself?" asked Bjorn. "That seems like the sort of thing a demon would take personally."


    "I know," said William. "I''ve been terrified of Melchious all my life. Everyone has. Now I''m in Seathorius, the heart of his power."


    "You will have to confront him," said Bjorn. "Perhaps not this day or this year. Yet you are right to fear him. These sorts of... arrangements always end in a reckoning of one kind or another.


    "One day, you or one of your family will have to face Melchious. He will neither forgive nor forget his humiliation. So many of our heroes have learned in time."


    William shuddered. For a moment, there was silence.


    "I''m trying to decide what part of my subconscious this represents," mused Kiyora. "I''m drawing a blank." Then she faded from view.


    "She is often drawn here in times of worship," said Bjorn. "And leaves as quickly. Her connection to the dream is not as strong as when she receives a call for help. But, we''ve grown used to it."


    "I see," said William.


    "On that sobering note," said Hrothgar, "the stories you two have told are well worth the food you have eaten. They will likely make good tales in the future, long after we have all grown old. But, for now, we must concern ourselves with giving you a chance.


    "What are your plans? And how may we assist them?"


    William remained silent and realized the decision was his and his alone. He could not ask Felix for help. At first, he considered asking for shelter. The dwarves could send runners to Artarq, and his father could send someone to retrieve him. It was simple; it was safe. So why wasn''t he going to do it?


    The shame of his failure on the ships had now awoken something inside him. It was driving him to do something bold and foolish and altogether reckless. It stuck in his throat as he felt their eyes on him.


    Finally, he blurted out: "I mean to travel to Artarq on foot."


    There, it was done.


    The dwarves looked surprised and impressed. Felix just looked dumbstruck. Silence overtook them momentarily as Bjorn drew out a pipe and lit it. He blew out a giant smoke ring, which rose larger and larger. Then, it stopped over all their heads. The smoke began to spin, transforming into mist and descending on the remnants of the feast.


    Then, the feast was gone. So were the plates and utensils. Only the cups remained, and each one was filled with blood-red wine.


    "Are you certain?" asked Bjorn, looking very ancient indeed. "Seathorius is a realm of dreams. Once your journey begins, there is no telling what perils you will encounter."


    "All the more reason to save someone the trouble of having to come to get me," said William. "And anyway, as long as I''m here, I''m endangering all of you. I got myself into this mess; I will get myself out."


    "Are you insane?" asked Felix. "You''ve read the stories! There are far worse things than satyrs waiting for us in the woods."


    "You don''t have to come, Felix," said William.


    "Yes, I do!" snapped Felix. "Raynald would slice and dice me if he found out I left you alone! And you''d never make it on your own."


    "Then it looks to be decided," said Houndslasher. "We will supply you with provisions and equipment ¡ª some better shoes for a start and new clothes. And rope, definitely rope. I would leave tomorrow if I were you. It rarely pays to wait long in Seathorius."


    "Do you have any maps?" asked William.


    "No map could be made of Seathorius," laughed Bjorn. "It would be outdated the next day. However, if I were you, I would travel north along the river until you reach the coast. The river and sea are always roughly the same places, so you can walk along them until you reach more stable lands."


    "He is right," said Felix. "Artarq is a coastal province anyway."


    "I know," said William.


    "Be careful as you walk," warned Bjorn. "The satyrs are behind, but they may choose to pursue you. And Melchious has other agents in these lands." He raised a cup. "Now, a toast to the gods!" Everyone else raised their cups as well. "To the gods!" They echoed.


    William and Felix were given a place to sleep in the halls of Houndslasher that night. He slept without a dream. He awoke the following day feeling much more refreshed. New clothes were provided for them, better suited to their size and warmer. They were also given new cloaks made of gray fur and walking sticks. Supplies were given to them, along with some excellent advice. Finally, Bjorn brought them outside the hall to see them off.


    The river looked beautiful in the morning light, and the birds were singing. Several kinds of flowers were blooming along the river. William thought it looked like lovely weather for travel. "I understand you mean to avoid any confrontations here in Seathorius," said Bjorn. "Remember to head north and don''t lose sight of the river. Then, when you reach the shore, you can seek shelter with the otters. They are good folk and worship Queen Yagos as well. I expect they will shelter you so long as you don''t do anything foolish. Though I don''t expect things will go nearly as well as all that."


    "Why are you so confident we''re destined for destruction?" asked Felix.


    "Destruction?" asked Bjorn. "No. Adventure? Without a doubt. That is the way of Seathorius. However, nothing can ever be simple. That is why we have these for you." He motioned, and Moira came forward with two short swords in ornate leather sheaths.


    William took him in hand and unsheathed it. The blade was shaped like a leaf, and the design was elegant without much adornment. Testing the edge, he marveled at how light it was, how beautiful it looked when it glinted in the sun. He opened his mouth, but he did not trust himself to speak.


    "It is marvelous," he managed at last. "Why would you give us such treasures?"


    "You are under the protection of our goddess," said Bjorn. "We wish others to know of our skill with blades. If they do, we might be commissioned to forge more of them.


    "But that is a secondary concern."


    "We are grateful for all your help," said William. "If ever you need aid that I can provide, ask, and I will do what I can to repay my debt."


    "We prefer to see to our own problems," said Bjorn. "But we shall remember it."


    Felix looked at his blade without expression. "...I have no idea how to use this."


    "Just stick the pointed end in the other man," said William with a laugh. "And anyway, we both know that''s not true. You practiced stances with Raynald and me before; you know how to use them."


    "Not as much as I should like," admitted Felix. "Either way, thank you. Though I''m sure William will find a way to break his sooner or later."


    "I only did it twice!" objected William. "It isn''t my fault if I''m stronger than most people my age."


    "I doubt you''ll be able to break these," said Moira. "Not unless you try. These weapons were made for dwarves; they can take much more force than humans. So I helped to make both of them myself."


    "I didn''t know you were a smith," said William as he sheathed the sword and set it to his belt.


    "I learned when I was a girl," admitted Moira. "Our craft takes many years to perfect."


    "Goodbye," said Bjorn. "And good luck. The Dreaming Goddess will watch over you, but there are things even she cannot face." He looked to the tree, and William followed his gaze. The bodies which had lain there before were gone; now, only bones remained.


    William bowed before taking up his walking stick and leading Felix along the river. They headed north as they had been instructed. The air was fresh and breezy, and the sound of the river gushing against the rocks was soothing to their nerves. The cast above was overcast, but it was otherwise pleasant weather. So they had an excellent time.


    The days passed like the winds around them, affecting them only briefly before they moved on past it. William had never before been on or wanted to be on an adventure. He now found himself feeling a particular enthusiasm for it all. Here was the sort of journey people told stories about around the hearth on cold winter nights. The kind of journey that historians recorded in old books. The type to be passed to future generations.


    "Why are you smiling?" asked Felix in annoyance. "This is insanity."


    The smile William had not known he''d been wearing faded with his embarrassment. "Um... well, I thought this would all seem very impressive when we get to Artarq."


    "If we get to Artarq, you mean," said Felix. "Which is not likely at all. Also, even if we do, Duke Vanion will be furious with you for coming. He will be angry with Raynald and Rusara for putting the idea into your mind. And angry at me for not informing Lady Azgora before it began.


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    "I expect he''ll have me reassigned.


    "And that isn''t even going into what your mother will do to you and me. I expect she will keep you on a chain after this."


    "Okay, but to everyone else, it will seem very impressive," said William.


    "In what way?" asked Felix. "All we did was wash ashore, get captured by satyrs, rescued by a goddess, and equipped by dwarves. So we haven''t accomplished anything."


    "We survived," said William. "Other people would have died before they reached the shore."


    "Yes, perhaps the bards will sing about our ability to avoid drowning," muttered Felix.


    "Well, you picked the lock on your cell, snuck past the guards, and set fire to the satyr village," said William. "That''s something."


    "I lied," admitted Felix. "The guards were dead drunk and started a fight. The one with the keys got knocked out, and I managed to swipe them off him while he was reeling."


    "It is still pretty impressive," said William. "And you did sneak past them."


    "They were dead drunk. It wasn''t," muttered Felix.


    "How did the fire start?" asked William.


    "Oh, I threw a torch into one of the houses as I said," said Felix. "But anyone could have done that."


    This kind of attitude from Felix soured William''s mood. And to make matters worse, the clouds became darker and thicker above them. No doubt it would rain soon.


    Felix was right; his mother would put him in chains for what he''d done. Father would agree with her, too, and he''d never see Raynald or Rusara again. As twilight gave way to darkness, they stopped and created a fire beneath the forest''s edge.


    "We''re leaving a watch tonight," said Felix. "We should have done it before, but we weren''t thinking. This time, someone has to stay awake. I''ll take the first watch and wake you when it''s your turn."


    "Right," said William, "I''m going to catch some sleep."


    He lay down on his back and looked up at the stars coming out where the clouds didn''t conceal them. It occurred to William that the stars shone down on them wherever one walked in this world. Their light could be, for a time, concealed by clouds and weather. But they remained on high, watching the world. It was said that Elranor came from the stars long ago and liberated humanity from the tyranny of the elves. William was confident, no, sure that Elranor had been behind Kiyora''s rescue. The timing of it all was too convenient to be a mere coincidence.


    His mind turned to his promise to Elranor. Would god ask him to honor it? William remembered the demoness'' mocking words and doubted he could be helpful to his god. However, if Elranor did ask for his service, what would he do?


    William decided he would yield it for whatever it was worth. It was the only decent thing to do. You couldn''t break promises and oaths, or the world would fall apart. The following day, he awoke to find that Felix had drifted off to sleep without waking him. He felt a tinge of irritation as he arose and prodded his friend. Finally, Felix opened his eyes and looked up.


    "What is it?" asked the other boy.


    "You were supposed to wake me," said William


    "I forgot," admitted Felix. "Let''s keep moving."


    On they traveled for a little way. Soon, they came onto the rocky ground with many great stones lying on the river bank. The river became a waterfall a little further, rushing towards the sea. Finally, as they neared the foaming crest, they saw the ocean in the morning light. It was beautiful to look on, and William breathed out in relief.


    "Well, that is one part of the journey," said William. "Once we reach the shore, I can think of two things we might do."


    "What are they?" asked Felix, looking around.


    "We can start a bonfire and hope to attract the attention of nearby ships," said William. "Or we can walk along the shore and try to take shelter with these otters while we do it."


    "The latter seems wisest to me," said Felix. "The satyrs have shipped as well. Raynald and Rusara have almost certainly put to shore by now anyway. So we''re best off staying the course and doing as Bjorn suggested."


    "Weren''t you against this course of action?" asked William.


    "While under the protection of the dwarves, we could afford to stay in one place," said Felix. "We are on our own, so we should keep moving." Then he saw something. "Get down!" And he threw himself to the ground. William followed him and followed his gaze.


    Coming downriver in the distance was a riverboat crewed by many satyrs. They were dressed for war. Their skin and fur were painted red with horrible markings. And at their head was Doltier. William shuddered in fear, remembering the white-furred satyr''s grip on him before. He looked at Felix and saw the other boy looked as afraid as he felt. Fortunately, the satyrs had not yet seen them. He thought of their options and mastered himself.


    "We need to run now," said William.


    "They''d catch us for sure," said Felix. "Behind the rocks quickly."


    They crawled behind one of the splendid stones and got to their knees. Then, hardly daring to breathe, William looked around the corner of one stone. The satyrs had beached their vessel and were leaping ashore. Dottier was in the front, scanning the ground.


    He said something on his tongue to his warriors, and they fanned out, searching around. Even if the satyrs had not seen them, they knew they were in this region. William realized they would indeed be caught if they stayed here. It was too open, and sooner or later, a satyr would find its hiding place. No, there were other options.


    They were very near the woods. He tapped Felix on the shoulder and motioned to the trees. They had never looked less inviting, and Felix gave him a look that said as much. William grabbed him by the hand and led him into them. They got into the trees moments before Doltier checked their stone.


    The white satyr kneeled by it, sniffing.


    William didn''t wait any longer. He made a break for it, and so did Felix, trying to go quickly while not making any noise. They had not gone far before a familiar hollering could be heard. The two of them broke into a sprint. Branches and vines bombarded them as they ran for their lives. But there was not a sound after the first holler. If the satyrs were following, they were doing it quietly.


    Coming out of the underbrush, they found themselves in a massive mound in the center of a clearing. The satyrs were nearly on them; William could feel it, and he knew they could not escape them by speed alone. William drew out his sword and whirled around, mentally preparing himself to fight. They would not take him easily ¡ª not this time.


    Then Felix grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him around the mound so they had it between them and the satyrs. However, it was not a moment too soon, for Doltier and company burst out from the trees with their blades in hand. Then William and Felix were out of sight. It wasn''t enough, though; they had only moments before the satyrs found them.


    Then William saw the hole. It was small, just large enough for someone lying down to crawl into it on their knees. It led to the base of the mound. William hoped he would be able to fit. Sheathing his sword, he got down on his hands and knees before crawling into it. He heard Felix coming up behind him as they moved into the darkness. The voices of satyrs could be heard drawing near. William knew that they were now just outside the cave.


    William hoped this hole led somewhere, not to a wolf''s open mouth.


    The ceiling soon became much higher, and he could stand up. The air within was oddly warm, and there was a strange thrumming noise like breathing. Then, raising a hand, William felt very cold.


    "I can''t see," said Felix. "What do we do?"


    William thought quickly. "Felix, I''m going to try and make some light. Stand by the entrance with your sword out, and if the satyrs try to come in, stab them. They''ll be at a disadvantage."


    "Right," said Felix, drawing his sword and kneeling by the dim light of the entrance. William raised a hand and looked into the darkness. There was that breathing noise again. Remembering the techniques Rusara had taught him, William muttered the incantations. He tried to summon the spirit of the sun as best he could. Nothing happened.


    He tried again and put his will into it. This time, he received a slight flicker. Seeking a third time, he managed it. A sphere of white light appeared over his palm and illuminated his surroundings. Oh.


    All around him were gold and jewels and silver piled high. Priceless artifacts of all kinds were everywhere. William found his mouth going dry, looking at it. In particular, something caught his eye.


    It was a harp of gold, carved with beautiful and robust strings that thrummed like a beating heart. It was hanging from a peg set into the wall and was still strung. It looked in perfect condition, so it couldn''t have been here for long unless it was magical. The latter seemed more likely.


    There was a scream of pain, and William looked to see Felix holding a bloody sword. Something was withdrawing back to the surface. Muttered cursing resounded. They had a good position, but safety had passed.


    How long could they hold the satyrs at bay? The creatures might need to have brought adequate supplies. But, on the other hand, William and Felix might hold out for some time. Perhaps even long enough for the satyrs to give up the hunt.


    What was that breathing noise?


    Then he saw the source.


    Lying on a bed of gold, its pelt blending in, was an enormous lion, faintly snoring and shifting. It was as if it were in some uneasy dream of hunting. No, not a lion. Lions did not have three heads: a goat, a dragon, or a cat. No lion alive was as massive as the creature before them, for one leg was nearly as tall as William. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    They were trapped inside a cave with the beast, and the satyrs barred the only exit. It was sleeping soundly, but how long would that last? William doubted they had long enough for the satyrs to give up.


    Felix saw it, too.


    William backed away from the creature and bumped into the fallen harp. He barely caught it before it hit the ground. He gulped in a cold sweat as the chimera shifted, purring at some dream it was having. What did chimeras dream of?


    "What do we do?" asked Felix.


    William needed a plan, and he needed it now. "I don''t know," he admitted. "We could surrender, but we might be better off being eaten by the creature." An idea occurred. "That''s it! Get away from the cave mouth."


    "What?" asked Felix. "But-"


    "Do it," said Wiliam. "We want the satyrs to come in here. Then, when they get in, we''ll wake the chimera. It''ll go after them first, or I hope it will, and we can use the confusion to escape."


    "That may work," said Felix, sounding doubtful, though he did as he was told.


    Yet the satyrs did not come in. They waited and waited, but the chimera kept sleeping, and the satyrs did nothing. Had they somehow heard their conversation? It seemed unlikely. Then William noticed that the light from the hole entrance was getting dimmer.


    "Felix," he said, "go look and see what is blocking the cave entrance."


    "Oh no, it''s your turn this time," said Felix.


    "Right, right," said William.


    He made his way forward and kneeled to look. The satyrs had piled many sticks and branches over the entrance. Dry leaves were also being shoved there. But why? What could they gain-


    The branches burst into flame.


    William staggered back in horror as he realized their plan. "They lit a fire. They mean to smoke us out."


    "What do we do?" asked Felix for the second time.


    "I don''t know," answered William again, and this time, nothing came to him. "Get down low." Smoke began to pour into the room, a little at first, but more and more came in, rising to cover the ceiling in clouds. Laughter could be heard from outside the cave. Felix crouched with William, looking like he was on the verge of panicking.


    "We should surrender," said Felix.


    "That''ll be worse than death," said William. "And the smoke might-"


    There was a deep, almost confused groaning, bleating, and hissing noise. The chimera stirred. William hid his light beneath his cloak as the creature stood up lazily. He prayed that it would not see them. The beast sniffed the air. Then, the lion and the dragon roared, and the goat bleated angrily. The sound was horrible and hurt his ears.


    Then, the light from the fire was blocked. The chimera squeezed through the hole with great speed. All of a sudden, the satyrs weren''t laughing anymore. There was a bloodcurdling scream outside, and William hoped it was Doltier. There were cries of fear and war, and still, more roaring could be heard.


    Felix moved for the exit.


    "No, wait!" said William. "They''ll run! It''ll pursue them, and then we move out!"


    "We should go now," said Felix.


    The screaming stopped. The chimera''s paws crunched as the scattered fire came to them. William saw it coming toward them, entering the cave again. Without thinking about it or knowing why, he drew up the harp he had found. The creature slithered into the cave with horrific speed. It rushed toward him, roaring.


    William ran his hand across the strings of the harp.


    The chimera halted as the first of William''s notes went through its ears. No sooner had the music died, but it snarled and coiled for a spring. William began to play again, and its muscles relaxed. As he played, the chimera sat down on its haunches while William played his harp without any idea what to do next.


    So play he did. Every time he began to slow, the creature would let out a growl or advance, and he would have to continue. He tried gradually inching toward the entrance, but then the dragon head let out a roar, and he had to keep playing. Finally, the lion began to purr, and the goat head made noises of appreciation.


    "Felix," said William, "get out of here. I''ll keep it occupied."


    "I''m not going anywhere without you," said Felix.


    Helpless to do anything else, William continued to play the harp. As he did so, there was a sense that filled him. It was a sense of everything in the surrounding area. He could feel the satyr''s fear as they fled this place. He could sense the deaths that had happened, which made him sad. But, it wasn''t just the deaths of the satyrs. It was the ends of ants and many other creatures he was unaware of, which had died today.


    Their lives led to other things, more important things. William felt like someone was with him, someone he had known all his life yet never met. It was strange and breathtaking.


    The smoke drained from the cave quickly, as though sped by some magic. His fingers were hurting from the constant work of playing it. He felt sweat drench his brow; his heart beat faster than he knew possible.


    The chimera continued to purr and went over to its bed of gold and lay down. Soon, its purrs became snores again. Finally, it was asleep, and they were beneath notice.


    It was a few minutes before William dared to stop playing. Finally, he sank to his knees and stopped, flexing his sore fingers. Looking at Felix, he sighed in relief. "Come on, let''s get out of here."


    "Let''s kill the beast first," said Felix, raising his sword. "I don''t want it coming after us."


    "No," said William firmly, "no killing. It minded its own business when we barged into its home. So we''re leaving now."


    "Could you fill your pack with gold first?" asked Felix. "We might as well have something to show for our troubles."


    "I don''t think that''s a good idea, Felix," said William. "It has a dragon head. We ought to leave the treasure behind."


    "You took the harp," snapped Felix. "Let me choose my trophy."


    "Do as you like," said William, not in the mood to argue. "But if that thing comes after us, it''s your fault."


    "You mean like all of this is your fault?" asked Felix.


    William didn''t much like this new side of Felix at all. He felt that greed was something to be avoided in this situation. Even so, he didn''t want to argue. It might have just been a Calishan thing, this lust for gold. So he let Felix fill his pack with the gold and jewels he desired before both slipped out of the cave. William didn''t like the extra weight, but he supposed the gold would lead to their credibility.

 Chapter Nine: Bloodied Hands

    They were assailed with the smell of death when they got outside the chimera''s lair. Half a dozen satyr corpses were lying around them, bloodied. Some looked to have had pieces of them bitten off. One had been torn in half. William felt a surge of pity and horror. To die in such a way was indescribable.


    "They had no idea what they were waking up," realized William.


    "They tried to smoke us to death," said Felix. "Less sympathy, more moving."


    "Which way?" asked William.


    "I..." Felix paused. "All right, the hole was on the opposite side of the mound from where we came in. So if we go straight from the other side of this mound, we should find our way back to the river."


    "That makes sense to me," said William. "Let''s go."


    They ran.


    The two boys moved with everything they had. With each passing moment, they were afraid they might hear the hollers of satyrs or the roar of the chimera. Soon, their legs were aching, and their lungs were burning. William''s heart was beating so hard he feared it would burst from his chest. Yet they saw no sign of the river. Then, they came to a sheer cliff rising high above them.


    They collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. Then, for a few minutes, they kneeled there, getting their bearings. Then they rose.


    "This was not here before," said William. "What happened? Do you think we aimed wrong?"


    "Maybe," said Felix. "Still, our general direction is toward the shore. We should find a place where it levels out if we walk along here."


    "No," said William, "we''ll climb it. If we scale up this thing, the satyrs might have difficulty following us, and that chimera won''t be able to at all."


    "I don''t know," said Felix.


    "At the very least, it may have trouble picking up our scent," said William.


    He reached out and found a handhold on the rock before pulling himself up. It was more difficult than at Carn Gable, of course. He needed to find out where all the footholds were. Worse still, he was carrying a heavy pack that Felix had stuffed with valuables. Nevertheless, he made his way slowly up and soon neared the top. Glancing down, he saw that Felix had barely started. The other boy was clinging to the rock desperately.


    "Are you all right?" asked William.


    Felix looked up, sweat dripping down his brow. "Yes... I just..." He hauled himself up a little further. "This pack is too heavy. I don''t think I can take it all up here."


    "Climb back down; I''ll be right with you," said William.


    Then he pulled himself over the top and pulled off his pack. Setting it down, he scaled back down toward Felix. Felix was gasping for air at the base and was beginning to unpack the gold. "Put those back," said William. "If we leave things behind, anyone here will know we came this way. Could you give me the pack? I''ll take it up, and you can climb without the burden."


    "Right," said Felix, "I... I really shouldn''t-"


    "Forget it," said William.


    They began to scale the cliff once more, and once more, William reached the top ahead of Felix despite his burden. He helped Felix get over the top, and then the two paused momentarily to catch their breath. William felt a little winded while Felix was gasping for air.


    "How do you do this?" asked Felix. "Keep going?"


    "It''s in my blood, I suppose," said William. "Come, we''ll get out of sight of the woods below. Then we can rest and have something to eat."


    When they had gotten out of sight, William set down his pack and began to search through it. It occurred to William that his new harp might have been battered to splinters. He frantically removed it from his bag. It was completely unharmed. Looking over it, he once again marveled at its craft. He wondered how it could be so strong after all the time it had lain there. It had to be magical.


    Drawing out his waterskin, he sipped it, and Felix did the same with his own.


    "That harp," said Felix, "what kind of enchantment is on it?"


    "Several, I think," said William. "I''ll have Rusara look at it when we find her."


    "Speaking of which," said Felix, "how near are we to the sea anyway? We must be getting nearby now."


    "That depends on which way the shore is," said William. "Depending on how wrong our bearings were, we could have been heading away from it."


    Felix only said something else once they had eaten. William did not blame him, for the morning''s excitement had taken a lot out of them. Annoyingly, the rations had been battered to pieces. The gold and jewels Felix had filled their packs with had done that much, at least.


    Then Felix pointed upwards. William followed his motion and looked to the sky. The clouds were gathering overhead.


    "It looks like it might rain," said William.


    "No, I mean the tree," said Felix. "It is taller than the rest and in a high place. If you scaled up it, we could see around Seathorius. We''d be able to know how close Savior''s Run is and where we are about the sea."


    "Good idea, Felix," said William. "Wait here and guard the packs."


    Scaling the tree was much more comfortable than climbing trees in Carn Gable. The branches in these were lower and twisted so that one could quickly get very high if they were skilled. As he clambered higher, William remembered long ago when he feared heights. His mother had taken him to the tallest tree in the area and ordered him to scale it.


    He''d obeyed. It had taken him a week of work and many scraped knees, but he had managed it. Then he''d fallen out on his way down and broken his arm. His mother hadn''t said anything; she carried him back to the healer and saw that he had fully recovered. After that, she''d never spoken of the whole thing again. He''d wanted her to be proud of him, but she had forgotten she''d even given him the task.


    Since then, he''d gotten very good at climbing.


    William emerged at the top of the tree and looked around. He saw before him all the lands of Seathorius flowing outward. They were beautiful, and they were changing. Before his very eyes, he could see the trees and hills changing position. Only the area around the river and the sea did not change ¡ª the very far away river. In the opposite direction of the way they had been going.


    What was wrong with that thought process? Oh, that was what was wrong.


    "Son of a-" William stopped before climbing down in a fouler mood than ever.


    "What is it?" asked Felix.


    "The land changed!" snapped William. "Bjorn warned us this would happen, and we didn''t listen! While we were in the chimera''s lair, it twisted itself up! As a result, we''ve been heading in exactly the opposite direction we ought to have gone!"


    "So we should go back," guessed Felix.


    "What''s the point?" asked William. "Even if we backtrack, it''ll just shift again. We''re so far away from river and sea at this point that we might as well cut out losses. We''ll try to cut straight through to Artarq." He sighed. "Okay, are you ready to keep moving?"


    "I can go on," said Felix. "I just needed some time to rest."


    "Good," said William, "we''ll put some distance between us and where we were. With any luck, the satyrs and the chimera are just as lost as we are."


    "Maybe," mused Felix, "but they know this place better than us. They may have a means of navigating where we can''t."


    "We''ll think about that later," said William. "Let''s go."


    Thunder rolled from the clouds above, and Felix narrowed his eyes as he slung a pack over one shoulder. "I think we may need to find shelter soon."


    "We''ll see what we can find while we travel," said William.


    William kept the harp in his hands as they journeyed onward. Enchanted or not, he did not like the idea of it bouncing around in his pack with the valuables Felix had found. Said valuables stuck into his back every so often. He was forever shifting his bag to make it more comfortable. In the meantime, he kept his harp beneath his cloak to protect it from any sudden downpour.


    The trees around them had become strange. They looked normal at first glance, but the longer one gazed at them, the more they seemed... unknown. It was a difficult thing to comprehend. William found himself walking slower despite their need for haste. Looking around him, he kept expecting to see eyes watching from the underbrush.


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    Then, it began to rain, as he feared. Droplets of water poured down on the branches above, dripping them. William raised his hood and saw Felix do the same. He looked around for shelter.


    "There is a bit of good cover here," said William.


    Felix shook his head. "We should keep moving." sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    They picked up their pace, but the strangeness surrounding them grew in intensity. The trees seemed to pulse with some unholy presence. William was unsure what was watching them, but he didn''t like it. Felix sensed it, too; he could tell by how he kept glancing around. The branches above them looked more and more like claws grasping for each other. Their distance seemed to blur as the night passed, and the shadows grew longer.


    William stowed his harp in his pack. Although he felt guilty doing so, he needed to be able to draw his sword. Something was sticking into his back. The backpack over his shoulder seemed more cumbersome than ever. He looked at Felix. "The valuables we stole are slowing us down, Felix. We should get rid of them."


    "Oh, that''s all very easy for you to say," said Felix. "You''ve never been poor a day in your life. I have, and I don''t want to repeat the experience."


    William wasn''t sure how to respond. He had never heard what it was that had led to Felix being sold at the slave market. He or his mother. He did not intend to ask. It was a sensitive subject for his friend.


    "What good are gold or jewels if the satyrs kill us?" he asked instead.


    "What good is a harp against satyrs?" asked Felix.


    "The harp saved us from the chimera," noted William.


    "You didn''t know it could when you first picked it up," said Felix.


    "I had the idea that it was magical," said William. "And anyway, what has it to do with the gold weighing us down? Something that creates music is far more valuable than all the gold in the world."


    "I wish you wouldn''t try so hard to sound wise," said Felix. "You aren''t, and everyone knows you aren''t. And I''m not getting rid of the gold."


    William felt a surge of irritation. He wasn''t willing to leave Felix behind. Even if he got rid of the wretched trinkets in his pack, he''d have to check his pace. Felix was dragging them both down for nothing. Why did he care so much about the money? Their lives were on the line.


    "I could order you to get rid of them, you know," said William. "You are my servant."


    "And I could point out that if you hadn''t been such a coward, we wouldn''t be in this situation in the first place!" snapped Felix.


    William opened his mouth to reply and then shut it. He didn''t trust himself to speak. They were both in a bad temper, and harsh words could lead to worse conflict. Besides, he was right.


    "I''m sorry," said Felix. "I shouldn''t have said that."


    "No, you are right," said William. "I threw down my weapons and ran when I should have fought. Raynald or Mother would have-"


    "Come off it," said Felix. "We''re children. I only said what I did because it was a sore spot. You''re probably right. We should at least get rid of some of it."


    William''s senses began to scream. He tensed as he felt a presence heading toward them. Something terrible was about to happen. He could feel it. Even as Felix slung off his pack, William rushed forward to tackle him to the ground.


    A spear sailed over their heads and planted itself in a tree.


    Out of the darkness came a satyr holding a scimitar. It stabbed at them, and William rolled aside, getting to his feet while throwing off his pack. Ducking under a sword blow meant for his neck, he backed away to avoid an onslaught of slashes. Then, drawing his sword, he parried three strokes and stopped. William turned their sword and raked it across the hand. Then he rolled away from its counterattack, feeling the air of the blade near his ear.


    He brought his blade around and slashed it across the side of the neck. Blood spewed from where he struck onto his hands, and the creature fell backward. It clutched at its wound. It gasped for air, rolling in the dirt, then fell still as its blood soaked the ground.


    William had killed it. He had slain another humanoid creature. In single combat. In honorable combat. In self-defense. However, it did not matter. He looked into its dead eyes and then into his blood-soaked hands. He tried wiping the blood off his clothes, but the stain remained. It would always be there.


    What had he done?


    "William..." gasped Felix.


    William looked up and saw his friend. He was lying on the ground, clutching a deep wound in the stomach. His clothes and hands were stained red with his blood. Felix had been hurt! He ran to him. "Felix, are you all right?" But, of course, he wasn''t all right; he was hurt badly.


    "It... it hurts..." said Felix, face looking pale.


    Setting aside his blade, William stared in horror. What did he do? What did he do? "You''ll be fine, Felix, I''ll; I''ll use my cloak as a bandage, so just-"


    "I don''t want to die..." said Felix, the voice of dawning realization. "I don''t want to die..."


    "You aren''t going to die!" said William. "You can''t die!"


    Felix smiled distantly. "Not... not... much choice, is there?"


    His eyes were dimming, and he was going still. Felix''s lifeblood was soaking his hands. William could do nothing. He took off his cloak but knew it would do no good.


    He needed a healer! He needed help!


    Then, suddenly, William realized he had all the power he needed. It flowed into him from an outside source, from Elranor. He set his hands upon Felix and focused his will through the wound. A warm glow came from his hands, and he felt an unfathomable power surge through him and into Felix. It was beyond any accurate description. Felix gasped as the wound closed and healed without a scar, as though it had never been.


    William breathed in relief. Felix stared.


    "What did you do?" asked Felix.


    "I... Elranor helped me heal you," said William. "I think. Can you stand?"


    "Give me my water skin," said Felix. "I need water."


    "Right," said William, giving him his own. "Drink carefully."


    Felix sat up and did so. He nearly finished the waterskin, but William didn''t blame him. He''d lost a lot of blood. Then he looked at William. "How did you do that?"


    "I don''t know," admitted William. "I know Elranor helped us, but it came naturally. It was like the charm I used to create the light, but... different. More instinctive. He helped us like he did when he sent Kiyora to help us."


    "Great," said Felix, standing up and picking up his pack. "We should get moving. Where one satyr was, there are probably others."


    "Yes," said William, "you are right."


    He wiped his sword off on the grass and sheathed it. Then he picked up his pack, and they were off. They''d lost their walking sticks at some point when they were fleeing the satyrs. William couldn''t remember when, exactly, but he regretted it now. Felix was unsteady on his feet and could not go very fast. Several times, he had to stop to rest.


    Darkness was growing around them, and William dared not risk any light. He had the feeling enemies were close at hand, quietly stalking them. It was maddening to think they were being pursued. Even more, maddening did not know how many there were or where they came from. Yet William could feel their presence, following behind.


    And somehow, he knew they were getting closer.


    His hair was standing on end. Night came on, and the crescent moon shone down on them from the treetops. And in a beam of light, the shadow of a girl his age. Armed to the teeth, Satyrs came around them from the underbrush in every direction. Doltier was amongst them.


    "Well now," said the demoness, "what absolute perfect convenience. You were on a direct path to Baltoth''s Retribution, and I''ve been ordered to take you there. Truly a mutually beneficial arrangement if ever there was one."


    "Who are you?" asked Felix, putting an unsteady hand on his sword.


    "I need not answer to you." said the demoness. "Indeed, I have precious little interest in you."


    "What do you want?" asked William. "I assume it isn''t us dead."


    "Ask not what I want," said the demoness, "but what Melchious wants." A chill went down William''s spine as his worst fears were confirmed.

 Chapter Ten: The Taming of Beasts

    Melchious.


    A name he had heard horror stories about all his life. A name people dared not utter in some places for fear it might attract his attention. A creature his father had long ago cheated beneath the misty trees of Brisgald. And now he had a personal interest in William. The Lord of Torment had a personal interest in him.


    There were some fates worse than death. This was one of them.


    "Felix," said William, "run. Get word to my father."


    "But-" began Felix.


    "Go!" William shouted.


    "Oh, I''m afraid that everyone not on the guest list is to be quite dead." said the demoness. "Kill the-"


    William threw his pack at one of the satyrs, ignoring the weight of it. It hit the creature right in the chest and sent it sprawling onto the ground. Drawing his sword, he rushed forward and laid about him with his sword. He felt a jerk in his hand as he broke a satyr''s spear and cut the creature across the leg. It fell back, screaming, and he moved to finish it. Then, he was struck from behind and fell forward onto the ground.


    Rolling over, he swung his sword wildly as he stood up, the satyrs around him. He warded them off for a moment before his hand was forced down. The blade was wrestled from his grasp. One of the creatures raised a knife to finish him.


    Yet Doltier grabbed the creature by the hand and said something on their tongue. He reminded them that Melchious wanted William alive, which was even worse.


    "My, you aren''t one to go gently, are you?" asked the demoness. "No matter, now for the other?" She looked around. "Where did he go? He was here a moment ago, yet now I can''t sense him."


    Felix had slipped away. He was nowhere to be found. William felt a sense of relief as he was hauled to his feet, and his hands were bound. The satyrs were tending to their warriors'' wounds with some magic. Others were looking for the pack and marveling at the jewels they found within. Finally, Doltier said something, and they put the gold and gems back in before he took up the pack.


    "Doltier is the ring-giver of this band," said the demoness. "He awards the spoils of their victory as he deems fit, and they follow him."


    Then Doltier punched William in the gut. William doubled over, gasping for air, his whole body shaking with the effect. He fell to his knees but forced himself back up. He did his best to look defiant, and it seemed to be noticed.


    "I suppose you think you''ve been courageous, don''t you?" mused the demoness.


    William considered how best to reply. Finally, he decided on a simple fact. "I have been."


    "Oh, do shut up." said the demoness, "Doltier, don''t bother pursuing the other. There is no help for miles. The gold is yours, of course, but that harp... That harp is mine."


    Doltier said something.


    "Oh?" asked the demoness. "I report to Melchious. That harp is of a special kind, and I will have it. You wouldn''t be able to make any use of it anyway."


    Doltier drew the harp out and passed it to the demoness, who took it into the shadows. She seemed to covet it, though it was challenging to say how William could tell. Something about the way the shadows shifted.


    Then she kneeled where William''s sword lay covered in blood. The shadows surrounded the blade and spun it around in a flourish.


    "Hmm," she said, "I think I''ll take this as a trophy as well."


    Doltier did not seem at all upset by this. Instead, he said something contemptuously and walked away, motioning to the other satyrs. Soon, the whole group began to move again.


    William was herded through the woods by the satyrs and was shoved and beaten at several points. The satyrs hated him bitterly. If a hungry chimera had devoured several of William''s friends, he would likely feel the same. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As they walked, the demoness started talking. "At any rate, you must understand how truly I appreciate your cooperation. Every so often, you get these heroic types. They spend every waking moment screaming in pointless defiance. As if that makes any difference.


    "Resigned silence is always preferable for me. It means I don''t have to listen to them bluster, and my minions maintain some measure of dignity.


    "You know Lord Melchious came into this realm only recently? My Lord has, for years and years, been limited to one side of the river in terms of worldly affairs. Yet there have always been places in Seathorius where the dark is powerful. I''ve been turning events in his favor for years, and I''ve been ever so successful."


    "Do you ever stop talking?" asked William.


    "I''m the captor; I''ll do as I please." said the demoness. "At any rate, where was I? Oh yes, well, you may have heard why Melchious wants you already. The usual variety of demonic retribution, no doubt, is to be agonizingly slow. Though the demon usually cheats on the mortal. Then, they get what they bargained for anyway.


    "Dear Vanion seems to have tried to make things turn out the other way around. It almost worked, too, but fate has a way of resolving these unfortunate little disputes. But, of course, we have no power over your soul. That pointless little defiance of yours at the satyr prison saw to that. But that doesn''t mean Melchious can''t make your first death last weeks.


    "You should be glad. It could have been an eternity."


    "So that''s why the satyrs attacked my ship," said William. "Melchious directed them to target me to get to my father."


    "Yes, you seem to have a moderate amount of intelligence, don''t you?" asked the demoness. "Of course, Doltier and his satyrs thought we merely intended to hold you for ransom. We let them believe what was convenient for us. The best-case scenario was for you to accept my offer, be freed, then recaptured and ransomed later."


    Doltier muttered something under his breath.


    "Oh, do stop complaining," said the demoness, "you got the gold, didn''t you?" She turned her focus back on William. "Meanwhile, you got the aid of a god. We lost several minions, and we''ve had to spend the last few days looking for you. It was exceptionally inconsiderate of you, praying for help like that."


    "Go to hell," said William.


    "I''d love nothing more than to go home, but for the moment, duty compels me to remain here," said the demoness. "I will never get used to the complete lack of the agonized screams of the damned.


    Especially the lack of futile pleas for mercy. But we must all sacrifice for the greater evil."


    "Well, in that case, you can go to heaven!" snapped William.


    "No need to get hostile." said the demoness. "I''m merely conducting you to untold torments and a horrible, grisly end. Think of the inconvenience you caused me? So, in any case, it''s your fault if you think about it."


    "How?" asked William.


    The demoness considered it. "Well, we didn''t get what we wanted. Now, granted by your standards, that makes you a hero. Yet we demons have an enlightened policy of self-interest as morality."


    "Meaning that it is not my fault in any way, and you are a sore loser," noted William.


    "I would prefer to think of myself as a sore winner." said the demoness. "And that is exactly the kind of attitude that I was complimenting you for not having. But, unfortunately, it isn''t improving my situation. Thus making it more difficult for me to gloat."


    "My heart bleeds for you," said William. "Perhaps there shall be a tragedy written about the degradation you suffered. I expect it will also mention how you led an innocent prisoner to torment and death."


    "Well, that does sound appealing." the demoness mused. "But you aren''t innocent, so that might be a poetic exaggeration."


    "Shut up," said William.


    "I don''t see why I should-" began the demoness.


    Then, there was the roar of a lion, a goat, and a dragon. The sound of it rattled William''s teeth. Out of the trees came the chimera, mauling a satyr to death with its paws. The lion tore out the throat of another while the goat gored a third with its horns. A wave of fire was unleashed as the satyrs scattered. The satyr holding William''s rope threw down its sword and fled.


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    "Well, that was unexpected." said the demoness. "I wonder why it''s killing my minions."


    Seeing his chance, William kneeled by the fallen sword and began to saw on the ropes. Soon, they came loose. However, no sooner had they dropped from his hands than a blade went to his throat. It was his sword.


    "I would stay still until we''ve killed the creature if I were you." said the demoness.


    Doltier hurled a spear that surged through the air and lodged in the chimera''s back. It screamed and then unleashed a torrent of flame at the demoness. She cried out, and the sword and William''s pack fell from her grasp. He snatched the blade and the bag and ran into the wilderness. As he did, the chimera''s roars became louder and louder behind him. Then they fell silent. As he fled through the trees, he realized the satyrs would overtake him. Already, he could hear the trumping of feet. He had to get out of sight. So, hauling himself up into a tree, he scaled up, sheathed his sword, and tried to be as unobtrusive as possible.


    Then, out of the underbrush came the chimera. It was limping and trailing blood. Arrows and spears were lodged in its flesh, mewling piteously from all three heads. It looked up at William, and before he knew what he was doing, he was scaling down the tree to meet it.


    The chimera saw down, moaning in pain. William touched its head, and it growled. He drew back his hand. The poor thing was dying, and he could not leave it like this. Drawing out his harp, he played a few notes, calming the creature. Then, he set down the instrument.


    "Listen," he said, "I can heal you. But I need to remove the weapons inside of you. You can''t attack me, or we''ll both die."


    The chimera wheezed, but it seemed to nod. William took hold of an arrow and tried remembering what he knew about healing. He wasn''t supposed to yank the handout. The head might come loose and still be inside the wound. William did not know if he could heal wounds in a way that pulled out the arrow.


    He knew a knife from his pack and sliced an incision in the flesh. The chimera moaned and roared. William kept calm, reaching down into the wound, following the arrow shaft to find the head.


    Grasping it, he pulled out both arrow and head. The chimera roared and pulled away from him, hissing, growling, and bleating at once.


    "I need to heal the wound," said William. "Please, stay still."


    Slowly, the chimera lay down, and William set one bloodstained hand on the wound. The power he had felt before came to him again, and he channeled his will. The wound healed, and the chimera whimpered.


    Next, William took hold of the spear in the chimera''s shoulder. Gripping it with two hands, he hauled it out of the wound. The chimera roared again, and he was afraid he''d be roasted. Yet he was able to heal it, and with that done, threw the spear aside and began to work on the other injuries.


    The work took hours. By the time William finished, the morning was dawning, and he was exhausted. His hands and lower arms were stained with blood, and he felt faint. However, the chimera was still, and he fell to rest against its healed body, the last arrows pulled out.


    William must have fallen asleep because twilight had fallen when he opened his eyes. He was lying on the ground, and when he looked up, he saw the chimera staring at him. Their eyes met, and William saw a feral divinity that defied description. For a long time, they remained still, just staring at each other into eternity.


    Between its forelegs was the harp.


    William picked himself up and sheathed his sword. He put away his knife and noted that the rations were still there or what had been left anyway. Then, picking up a spear he had taken out of the chimera, he looked up at the creature.


    "Listen," said William, "did you kill all the satyrs?"


    The chimera said nothing, not comprehending. Then it shoved the harp at him. William sighed, picked up the harp, and put it into his pack. The chimera growled.


    "I can''t play now," said William. "That demoness is still out there. I can feel it. She might have other servants, and we''ve lost a lot of time. So we have to keep moving."


    The chimera moved forward and nuzzled him with its lion head. At the same time, its goat head began to munch on the grass at his feet. The dragon''s head was raised above the other, scanning its surroundings. William smiled and scratched the creature behind the ears.


    "Come on," said William. "Let''s see if we can find Felix."


    William had entirely lost his bearings during his flight the previous night. He did what they had done when they had been cast overboard. He turned and began to walk in a random direction. The chimera padded after him.


    Soon enough, they came across a shrine. It was made of black stone and had three statues on it. The first statue was a beautiful woman with exaggerated features. It was taller than the others and very fair. On her head were goat horns, and in her hand was a great mace raised high above her. On her right was a figure robed so that nothing of its features could be discerned. Last of all, on her left was a statue of Melchious.


    At the knees of the statues was an altar of black stone. The chimera did not seem to like this place, and William didn''t like it.


    "It must be a shrine to demons," said William. "I don''t know these creatures beyond Melchious. I don''t think I want to know them either. Come on, let''s move on."


    At that moment, out of the trees came two dwarves. Their beards were wild and unbraided, clad in skins. They held in their arms a sizeable white cloth on the altar.


    "So why are we making these sacrifices anyway?" asked one.


    "Didn''t you listen to the white satyr?" asked the other.


    "I don''t know those animal''s tongues." said the first. "I''ve never been able to make sense of it."


    "There is some terrible new enemy, I gather." said the second. "They set fire to that satyr''s village with help from the Dreaming Goddess. Then, when they went after them for vengeance, they called a chimera to attack them. So they set the chimera to flight but took serious losses."


    "Makes me glad." muttered the first. "Fewer of those animals, the better."


    "The satyrs are our allies." shot back the second. "If the Dreaming Goddess has some new servant, it''s our problem. Especially since whatever it is, it''s on our side of the river now."


    "Maybe it''ll move on." said the first.


    "We can only hope," said the second. "Here comes High Priest Devrox; let''s stand to attention now and be ready for the sacrifice."


    Sacrifices? It seemed likely now that Melchious'' servants would kill some poor souls on their altar. William had to do something about this. He looked to the chimera, whose lion head was licking its chops hungrily.


    Out of the trees came a dwarf with a neater beard, clad all in white. William took him to be Devrox. In his hands was a sacrificial knife, and behind him was a group of armed guards. Last of all was a servant holding a lamb in his arms. William sighed in relief.


    "Come on," said William to the chimera, "we ought to get out of here."


    The chimera was looking at the lamb and licking his chops.


    "Not now," said William. "I''ll play my harp for you tonight. So don''t start a fight just yet."


    Reluctantly, the chimera followed William away from the shrine. William reflected that, at the very least, not all of the rites of Melchious'' servants were so vicious. It was a consolation to know that his servants were not all evil. Perhaps to them, the world looked very different indeed. Melchious may have appeared good.


    He put such thoughts from his mind. They were close to heresy in any case.

 Chapter Eleven: Baltoths Retribution

    It dawned on William over the next few days that he had yet to learn where he was headed. The land shifted all the time. Even when he backtracked, he always seemed to end up somewhere different. He was walking on a path that was out of his control, and could not get off it. Instead, he could only follow or stay where he was. The air was musty and stale in this place, and they found it had to be purified by one of Rusara''s spells.


    At night, insects and worse things bothered them, and by day, they walked in darkness.


    He didn''t like the feeling. It was like he had no control over his destiny. As though he were a puppet to be manipulated by the hands of figures beyond his comprehension. At night, he played music for the chimera, and he would always wake to find it watching over him in the morning. The land around them became darker. The clouds clustered overhead as the wood became more dreary and horrible. The weather became ever grayer and colder.


    Then, one day, it started raining. It poured down on them in torrents, and they sheltered beneath the trees as best they could. Finally, the chimera got close to curl up against him, shielding him from the wind. William looked up.


    "Thank you," He was not sure how to continue. "You know, I''m not sure what to call you. I mean, I can''t just call you Chimera."


    "Bah," said the chimera''s goat head.


    "I think I should give you a name," said William. "Unless you already have one."


    The dragon''s head turned to him and gave him a strange look. He had no idea what it meant, and William remained silent. Can I give you a name? Something to call you until I can learn your real one."


    The chimera did not answer. William supposed expecting one was somewhat foolish. It was, after all, an animal at heart. He sighed. "I suppose I''ll call you... uh... I have no idea what to call you. None whatsoever." He looked around. "What do you think of Dark Heart?"


    There was that look again.


    "Look, I can''t think of anything, okay," said William. "And it''s not as if it matters. It''s only until... oh, never mind. Octavian? That''s a Sornian name, so it is pretty exotic."


    The look continued.


    William sighed. "What about Massacre?"


    The chimera seemed to consider that. Its dragon head nodded.


    "Right then, Massacre," said William. "The rain is slacking off a bit, so we should keep moving to... wherever it is, we''re going. I hope we get there soon because I''m almost out of supplies." S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Massacre and William began to make their way onward. The ground became rougher, and strange voices appeared as they made their way forward. During the day, little light penetrated through the treetops. During the night, it was pitch black. The ground became stony and rough. William often tripped as he went onward and became very sick of it all. The days blurred together, and he longed for a warm bed and rest.


    He doubted now that he had any hope of finding Felix. Seathorius itself was conspiring to see them separated. Yet to what end? What purpose was served by all this?


    Then, they came out of the darkness. In front of William and Massacre, they found pleasant green lands. Around it were rolling hills and beautiful trees with white bark and golden leaves. Flowers were blooming at their base, and birds were singing. The contrast was so sudden that William could hardly believe his eyes.


    Then he saw the castle. It was a truly majestic sight, standing on a proud hilltop. Seven pure white towers rose out of its new walls. They loomed overhead, and an eighth grew out of the keep itself, the tallest spires. A golden spike emerged from the top of its domed roof. It was magnificent. Here before him seemed a beautiful and strong fortress. One might expect a noble king to dwell here.


    That was why William felt ill at ease with it. Upon further examination, William realized that the walls were crawling with vines. They had grown up all over the fortress. No flag flew from its towers, and William doubted any had flown in many years. Moreover, despite the beauty of his surroundings, they seemed odd, almost lifeless.


    The chirping of birds was everywhere, but he could see no birds. The flowers seemed strange like they were parts of a picture. A picture painted on long after the original artist has declared his work complete. Its beauty seemed more an atrocity than the most festering bog that nature had created. The more William looked at this place, the more it seemed almost more terrible than where he had been.


    "Massacre," said William. "I am not going any further on this path. Instead, we''ll head back into the woods and see if we can find Felix."


    Massacre seemed to agree, and they plunged back into the far preferable darkness. Yet they had not gotten far before the two emerged again into the painted-on wonderland. Only this time, it was far closer to the castle than before. So, turning, they fled into the darkness again, with the same result.


    Finally, defeated, they made their way toward the castle. Some will seemed to fuel their speed, and they moved. William wanted more than anything to be going in another direction. Massacre did not try to eat any grass, even though he had been continuously munching until now. Finally, at the base of the hill with the gates looming over them, William leaned on his spear and looked up.


    "I think I know where we are," he said. "This is Baltoth''s Retribution¡ªthis province''s old Dust Elf capital. Rusara''s people used to live here. Have I ever told you about Rusara? She''d like you.


    "Assuming we ever meet her," He became very bitter. "Listen to me, Massacre. I think that Seathorius is driving me into a confrontation with Melchious. We''re both going to die at this rate." He was afraid, but he couldn''t drag others down with him.


    Massacre''s goat head bleated fearfully.


    "You don''t have to come with me," said William. "You shouldn''t come with me. This isn''t your problem, and there is no sense in you dying here with me." He paused. "Go back now." Massacre stood where he was, not moving.


    "Go back!" roared William. "Now! Before you get killed!"


    Massacre sat up and loped toward the trees before halting and glancing back. William remained where he was, wanting to shout for Massacre to return. Then the chimera turned and went back into the woods and was gone. William realized he was shaking.


    He forced himself still and turned to begin making his way toward the gate. As he did so, the lands surrounding him began to twist and change into their proper form. The grass was not there at all, only blighted wastes. The flowers were thorny bushes with inch-long blades on them. Yet Baltoth''s Retribution remained the same shining castle, gleaming in the sunlight.


    He came to the gates, long since rotted away so that only some rusted hinges were left. As he approached, a shadow was cast over him, and he looked up. Upon the top of the wall was the demoness.


    Yet she was no mere shadow. Instead, she stood in physical form, in the form of a girl, yet she was not human. Her feet were black talons like those of a hawk. She had a long black tail like a silken noose with a blade shaped like a crescent moon. Her hands were massive claws, and her skin was pure black. Her eyes were bright blue and shone with an unholy light.


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    "Well, what a chance meeting," she said. "I must thank you for sending that beast away. It will make my task much easier."


    Then she dove toward William. He raised his spear, but her tail lashed out, and it was cut in twain. The demoness smashed him down and reached for his throat. William strove to hold her claws at bay, struggling with the demoness. Her strength was monstrous; he''d never felt anything like it! Unable to drive her back, he dragged her to one side, throwing her off. As she landed, he was on her and forced her down with a knee on her chest. Drawing out his sword, he set it to her throat.


    "You have lost," said William.


    He should kill her now. This was an unholy abomination, not a thing that could be redeemed. Yet he remembered the sight of the satyr lying dead by his hand. Then her tail wrapped around his neck from behind, and he was hauled back. His sword fell from his grip, and she was on him. He snatched the spearhead, but she grasped his wrist, forced him down, and leaned in close. He could feel the heat of her body against his, and then her lips met his. She held it there momentarily, and he found his strength waning. He felt a will forcing itself against him, older and stronger, and his attempts to break free of it were in vain. His head went fuzzy; his vision was blurry. William suddenly had no idea who he was or what he was doing. He could not remember what had brought him to this point.


    The thing pounded him down, wiping her lips, and he stood. "Who am I?" he asked. "Who are you?"


    The demoness smiled and whipped her tail around her as she made a bow. "Oh, just someone you should trust and love." Her tail drew up his sword with a flourish and put it into her hand. His sword, it was his.


    "That is my sword," he said.


    "I''ll return it to you in a moment," she replied.


    A sense of trust that was not altogether his own came to him. But, of course, she would give it back to him. She was to be trusted. She was the most magnificent, beautiful, and influential of all creatures. Still, those thoughts did not seem altogether his own.


    "You really are powerful, aren''t you?" she asked. "Duke Vanion wasn''t much stronger when Melchious told me to kill him. And he was an adult."


    "I was..." his mind was still fuzzy, "my bloodline gives me that strength. It is from Mother''s side of the family." Memories would not come to him; he felt adrift and without an anchor.


    "Fascinating," she said. "Do tell me more?"


    "I don''t know all that much," said William. "She never tells me anything."


    "Oh, how sad, my deepest sympathies." She motioned with her sword. "Through the gates, we have plans to make."


    William obeyed, and the demoness, yes, she was a demoness, led him through the gate. He found an overgrown courtyard within. Several saplings were growing within it, and weeds were everywhere. They went into the keep, whose door had long ago rotted away to nothing, and began to scale up a flight of stairs. Violet torches lighted the walls on either side of them, which cast the world in an ominous light.


    A vague recollection came then to William. It came fear. "Are we... going to see Melchious."


    "No, I lied about all that." said the demoness. "Mostly for the satyr''s benefit. I don''t know if he''s aware of your presence here. Nor do I care."


    "Then why..." Memories began to come back. "It was you all along?"


    "Precisely," she said, "I''ve been using this castle to project my will over great distances. There is great power here, and I have learned to harness it in the years since I took up residence. You might have noticed a shadow aiding the satyrs in pursuing you?"


    "Why... why to say you were in league with Melchious," asked William.


    "Oh, I am," she said, "I''m merely operating without his orders now."


    They went down a hall and saw nothing and no one. As William followed her, he had regained much of his former self. He could not act against her, somehow. The idea was inconceivable. "Where are the ghosts? I was told this place was haunted."


    "Oh, those," said the demoness, "I killed those ages ago."


    Then they entered another room and within was a three-dimensional map of Seathorius. Yet it was no map of plaster. Instead, it was living and breathing, with trees that swayed and moved before his eyes. Tiny villages could be seen scattered throughout it. There were specks among them, people, William thought.


    "This is where the shifting in the landscapes comes from," said the demoness. "It takes some skill to control, but I managed it." She raised a hand and channeled power. The landscape began to flow around into another shape. "Rather convenient. My service to Lord Melchious is mostly using this. I ensure his operations go unnoticed, but I have far greater aspirations."


    "Aspirations to what?" asked William.


    "Power, what else?" asked the demoness. "Come, we should continue our tour."


    William wanted to resist, but he could not. They went through a chamber and into a great hall. Many eldritch statues were standing throughout it. Black pillars carved with runes were around them in a circle. At the far end of the room was a set of double-stone doors, and they were shut. On it were engravings of many eldritch and horrible things. It was painful to keep looking at it.


    The demoness approached it and ran one hand over it. "Well, here we are. The reason I need you."


    "I don''t understand," admitted William.


    "No doubt you say that a lot," said the demoness. "And I don''t intend to enlighten you more than is necessary. Beyond this door, I believe, lies the Mirror of Laevian. Its power must belong to me." "And not Melchious?" guessed William.


    "Of course not," said the demoness. "I want it for myself. You don''t think that serving someone and having their best interests at heart are the same thing, do you? That would be naive, even for a human."


    "And how will I help you get it?" asked William.


    "The door is warded against demons and all other races," said the demoness. "I have a hunch that it is not against what you are."


    "Are you saying I''m not human?" asked William, annoyed.


    "Well, you have the blood of Amazons in you, which is a slight variant of humans." said the demoness. "It might be enough to slip past the defenses. I mean, I''ve sent a lot of other technicalities forward, and most of them died, but that''s not the point. Now, try to open the door." She drew his sword. "Or die."


    William reached forward and set one hand to it. Then, pushing against it, he felt as if something was looking through the very fiber of his being, judging him. Yet as it gazed at him, it seemed uncertain of what he was. William thought it was obvious enough, but something about him perplexed it.


    Then it opened, and the doors swung open before him, showing a dark hallway lit by green flame. The demoness jumped for joy. "Yes, yes, yes! I knew it would work! Technicalities are such a beautiful thing! And to think this is my sixtieth try! I was getting so tired of burying the bodies! Now you go forward first; if there are any traps in there, they''ll spear you, and I''ll have a warning ahead of time."


    "...Fine," said William, once again unable to disobey.


    It was strange, for it was as though she had some hold over him; it defied the ordinary. She demanded obedience and accepted nothing else. William felt he was under mind control but could not work up the will to break it. He wondered if he even wanted to. But, of course, he did. Yet every time his mind began to shake off the web surrounding his mind, is eyes were drawn to her. The very sight of her strengthened the bindings.


    It was frustrating, but he couldn''t work up the will to get angry about it.


    He walked forward, looking around him as he did so. The demoness followed behind, tail flickering this way and that. As they made their way on, the darkness gave way to multicolored lights, which hurt the eyes to look too long at. The walls became pure crystal, and vines grew around them. Soon, the vines were so thick around them that the walls were covered. An earthy smell surrounded them, and leaves quickly covered the ground. Then it became hot, and William wiped the sweat from his brow. Then the heat turned to cold, and he was shivering. The sounds of chirping birds could be heard, then the fall of hammers.


    Reality seemed to shift without beginning or end.


    "What is this place?" he asked.


    "Hmm, it''s connected to the realm of turmoil." surmised the demoness. "The realm of limitless potential which has no form that is not given to it by the mind. It exists between the dimensions of the mortal realm, hell, and heaven. Rather an ironic choice of location."


    "How so?" asked William.


    "Well, the Mirror of Laevian shows things as they are," said the demoness. "But the turmoil is a subjective reality. Everyone who looks into it sees something different, formed by their mind."


    "What do you see?" asked William.


    "Eh," said the demoness, "I''m not paying attention. My interest is purely in power. In what is. This place has nothing to offer me in that regard."


    "What use could the Mirror of Laevian be to you?" asked William. "You don''t seem like the person interested in knowing themselves."


    "You seem to have missed the point," said the demoness. "If I look into the Mirror of Laevian and survive, I know my personality flaws. But, of course, I am nearly flawless; few indeed can compare to my perfect majesty.


    "However, by seeing my few flaws, I can correct them and become more powerful."


    "I expect you will be disappointed," said William. "How is it that no one has found a loophole around that door in the first place?"


    "Oh well, I expect the flesh-eating ghosts kept most people away," said the demoness. "And just getting here is difficult enough. It took me years of constant searching to track the place down. But you managed it so quickly because I was already on the inside, drawing you to me."


    "So you killed the flesh-eating ghosts," guessed William. "How? Rusara taught me that restless spirits can... uh..." He tried to remember. "They can only be sent on to the next life once whatever is keeping them in the world is resolved."


    "Yes, I suppose you would have looked for some way to ease their suffering. To help them find peace," mused the demoness. "Fortunately, I had a much more direct approach. I beat them senselessly and tortured them repeatedly. Soon, their fear of me became greater than their attachment to this world.


    "After that, they faded."


    "I don''t think it is supposed to work like that," muttered William. "So why hasn''t anyone else come here since?"


    "Well, a few people do," admitted the demoness, "but I killed most of them, always leaving one alive to flee back. Thus, the myth of ghosts persists. It''s just that these days, the ghosts are supposed to be working for me."


    "And you''ve just been sitting around this castle that whole time," said William. "That sounds boring."


    "Well, I can project myself into other realms using the shadows," said the demoness. "Particularly moonlight. The Moon Spirit is quite helpful in that regard. But yes, it has gotten dull. But once I find the Mirror of Laevian, I will no longer have any need to remain here."


    William and the Demoness entered an elegant room of white stone. It was illuminated from everywhere and nowhere with gleaming light. A mirror stood two feet high at the far end of the room. It was covered with a red tarp, and William made his way forward.


    "Do you think this is it?" he wondered.


    "Let''s find out," said the demoness before pulling off the tarp.


    William saw himself.

 Chapter Twelve: The Collapse

    At that moment, William saw everything about himself. Every slight aspect of himself irritated others. Every little selfish choice hurts others. He took Felix for granted, always expecting him to obey while pretending he was his friend. He''d wasted Raynald''s valuable time with his laziness. One of the greatest warriors of Harlenor comes to train him. And William couldn''t even be bothered to attend his lessons. He saw his ineptitude at various tasks when he was assigned them.


    William saw every tiny slight, every half-truth, and arrogant word. Every one of them came crashing down on him. How many people had died because of him since his failure on the ship? How many sentient creatures would still be alive if he had done what he ought to have done and fought?


    He saw how he had robbed the chimera on Felix''s urging, hardly thinking of it. It had saved them from the satyrs, and this was how he had repaid it?


    He had felt good about Felix setting fire to the satyr village. Yet people had died in that fire, even children. He found tears coursing down his cheeks as he struggled to turn away. Yet he could not. All he could do was stand there, watching.


    A shadow behind him was growing, and he realized he was not alone looking into this mirror. Another was screaming in agony and horror, another who had a part in him even he had not learned.


    Trying to reach out, he saw this being for what it was.


    Melchious. Yet why did Melchious have a part in him?


    And then William saw that it was not that Melchious had a part in him but rather that he had been a part of Melchious. Everything fell into place. When Melchious disguised Father, he had put a piece of himself into him. That piece had waited within him and entered into Mother. It had become him.


    He was a creation of evil. And through him, that evil was suffering horribly. He could feel the unbridled agony coursing through Melchious. The effect of truth on him was blinding as all his sins returned to haunt him. And it hurt. It hurt more than anything else William had ever experienced. Only the truth that it was not entirely meant for him prevented it from tearing him apart.


    He saw the screams of untold innocents ¡ª the tormented souls of sinners. Their anger and hatred were now consuming the being to which William was connected.


    And then it was over. Melchious was silent.


    William felt alone, more alone than he ever had before. He stepped back, gasping for air and hardly feeling his body. What he had seen... what he had known...


    He looked up to the demoness. "This was your plan all along?"


    "Precisely," said the demoness, "rather well played, if I may say so. I knew I could never use the mirror for myself; it was far too hostile to my kind. Yet then I thought. ''What if I could use it to remove my superior?'' So I did."


    "You knew Melchious would never fall into any trap you set," said William. "So you used me to get to him."


    "Yes," said the demoness. "Melchious had some plan for you, I expect. No doubt, it is a long-term goal accomplished by subtle manipulation. Your Father never outsmarted him, but I? His student? I did.


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    Then his sword was in her hand, and she tossed it to him. William caught the sword, hardly believing his eyes. "Why are you giving me a weapon?"


    "Well, obviously so that you can kill yourself," said the demoness. "Inconvenient truths are tearing apart Melchious'' soul. I expect he had retreated into the depths of the abyss to try and save himself. He may or may not.


    "But if he survives, he can use you as an anchor to return to the mortal realm whenever he wants. So it''d be much simpler for all involved if you killed yourself."


    "You''re lying," said William. "You just want me out of the way-"


    "-so that Melchious cannot return." finished the demoness for him. "I''ll have the run of this whole place so long as he is gone. Here, I will be worshipped as a god if only I can step out of his shadow long enough to establish my worship."


    She was right. He could feel it, and the blade in his hand seemed to call to him. He had been a burden on everyone all his life and would probably become even more burdened later. Everyone had always had such expectations, and he had never been able to meet them. And by doing this, he would deny the return of a much more powerful demon lord.


    Putting the sword''s point to his chest, he tried to work up his will. He could feel the demoness'' will urging him on, and he knew he should do it. Yet something was holding him back.


    "Stop!" said Kiyora, appearing to one side. "Are you crazy?!"


    William looked up and saw the Dreaming Goddess put a hand on his wrist. Instantly, he realized how the demoness had affected him. She''d gotten into his head. She''d manipulated his thoughts, so he thought her voice was his conscience.


    He lowered the sword.


    "Kiyora," he said, "when did you get here?"


    "I went to sleep tonight expecting to have to guide some lost kid back home!" said Kiyora. "Instead, I find you almost killing yourself! What are you thinking? Suicide never solves anything! It only leaves-"


    And then the demoness surged forward, and roundhouse kicked William in the chest. He was sent tumbling head over heels to crash against the wall. Pain erupted throughout his entire body. He had felt something crack within him, but he couldn''t handle the pain.


    Then he did feel it. It hurt a lot.


    "Who the heck are you?" said Kiyora.


    "Oh, just the person who will rule Seathorius," said the demoness. "I''ve disposed of my master, and now I''m going to dispose of you."


    William began to heal his injuries. A blessed sensation soothed the agony as Kiyora looked at the demoness. The creature paced to stand directly in front of the mirror.


    "Jokes on you," said Kiyora. "I can''t be hurt in my own dreams."


    "Maybe not," said the demoness, "but have you looked in the mirror lately."


    She motioned to the Mirror of Laevian. Kiyora followed the motion. William tried to cry out, but it was too late. Kiyora covered her eyes and screamed as she fell backward. She landed with a crash on the ground, unconscious. Her light faded, and she now looked... normal, for lack of a better word. William had finished healing himself.


    "Well," said the demoness, "that was remarkably easy." She threw the tarp back over the mirror. "Note to self: The Mirror of Laevian can force gods into mortal form." Then she set one clawed foot on Kiyora''s neck.


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    William got to his feet, snatched up his sword, and charged. But, even as he came on, the demoness backflipped over and slashed him across the back with her tail. He felt the sting on his flesh and reeled forward.


    "I hope you realize I was playing around with you the last time." said the demoness. "Which I have no incentive to do now. I''ll tell you what. Leave now, and I''ll let you have a head-"


    William swung his sword at her again. Yet she surged away like a shadow. He narrowed dodged her tail, and several more swipes backed him up against the wall. Then, reaching out with one hand, he caught it between his fingers and dragged her towards him by it, stabbing at her. The demoness brought up one knee and slammed him in the gut. Then, grabbing him by the cloak, she threw him across the room. He hit the mirror, and it toppled over as he landed beyond it. He felt his arm crack and agonizing pain going through it.


    Healing it as quickly as he could, he saw her approaching him at a walk.


    "You know, I must admit." she said, "I rather enjoyed chasing you through the forests." She raised one claw and smiled. "I''m going to have to enjoy cutting you to pieces all the more."


    He hurled his sword at her, and it spun through the air to miss entirely and land against the far wall. The demoness stepped carefully around the mirror as William arose. Fortunately, she knew she could kill him at any time. Shrinking back, he took hold of the side of the tarp.


    "You don''t think you''ll succeed in your designs, do you?" he asked.


    "On the contrary, I already have," she said. "All that remains is-"


    William hauled off the tarp. The demoness averted her eyes. So William threw the tarp over her. There was a squeal of outrage, and then he grabbed her by the shoulders. With all his strength, he tossed her onto the upset mirror. Her tail lashed out and slashed him across the shoulder. He couldn''t help but scream as he fell back against the wall.


    For a moment, the demoness was tearing her claws through the tarp. Then, finally, she hauled the tattered remnants from her body and looked up. "You miserable, ungrateful- Oh."


    Her gaze was drawn to the Mirror of Laevian. It glinted beneath her as she began to shake. Rising, she screamed and stepped backward. Then, clutching her eyes, she turned and fled weeping into the hall. William watched her go, healing his wounds as best he could. Then he looked at the mirror, which remained undamaged.


    Picking it up, he set it back up in its proper place. Then he threw the tarp over it. Even so, the tarp was in tatters, and he had to be careful not to see the mirror.


    William kneeled by Kiyora. She was lying unconscious on the ground, but she was breathing steadily. She looked pretty beautiful.


    He looked back to the mirror. He''d only be able to take one of them out of here, and somehow, he doubted he''d be able to return anytime soon. Kiyora was a goddess! Sure, she could take care of herself.


    Then, there was a rumbling noise. The floor began to shake as cracks appeared in the ceiling. He barely kept his feet. Fragments of stonework fell downwards to clatter against the floor. This whole place was coming down, though William had no idea why he was certain or how it had happened.


    William made his choice as he picked up his pack and slung it over one shoulder.


    Retrieving his sword, he sheathed it before reaching underneath Kiyora. William picked her up in a bridal fashion and made for the exit. Even as William did, large stones began to fall from the ceiling to rattle around him. He broke into a run, moving as fast as he could. Above him, the cracks spread to the walls. Ahead of him, the maddening visions from before returned in full force.


    Sprinting with all his might, he saw colors flash before his eyes. It seemed as though the halls themselves had disappeared. Instead, he was running through a sea of stars that flowed past him in a blur. He wasn''t sure if moving his legs made any difference, but he dared not stop now. On and on he went until he saw a doorway of light before him. He raced through and heard a grinding noise. Looking back, he saw the masonry collapsing down onto the entrance. Soon, it was barred from sight. The walls of the castle themselves were falling in around him before his eyes.


    Why was this happening? Why was the castle collapsing?


    He had no time to find out. He raced into the hall and tried to remember which way to go. Then he sensed a presence and looked to one side to see the demoness rushing at him. Her claws were far longer. Her body, which appeared almost human before, was far closer to that of a wild beast. Long fangs had appeared on her mouth, and her eyes were wild. William ran the other way. He could hear her feral snarls growing louder, and he dodged around a corner. Something grabbed hold of his cape, and he felt a chill. He turned too late and was pulled from his feet. He tried to shelter Kiyora from the fall as he hit the ground hard. Turning around, he scrambled back as the beast approached him.


    Trying to draw his sword, he knew it would be too late.


    As the beast lunged, the ceiling above it fell inward, and many great stones fell. There was a terrible roaring of stone on stone, and dust was kicked up. When the dust settled, William saw one claw outside the rock. Then it moved, clawing at the ground and beginning to push aside the stones.


    William grabbed Kiyora and ran. He had no idea where to go or how to get there. He only knew he had to get as far away from the demoness as possible. A roar echoed throughout the halls as a wall gave way. A whole side of the castle was collapsing down into the courtyard below.


    He could scale down here! He could save himself and escape!


    Then he looked to Kiyora. He could not bring her with him this way. Wasn''t it better to save himself than to save no one? No, there had to be a better way.


    He ran off, feeling like he would regret it.


    Coming into a room, he found a staircase. But it was leading up, and he had no time. He raced up it and entered the bridge leading to the lone tower. It looked over the entire castle, rising into a stormy sky. It was pouring rain, and lightning was striking across the sky. All around him, he could see the whole castle collapsing into dust. Bits and pieces of masonry fell around them. He raced towards the tower with nothing else to do, praying it might be spared the destruction.


    Then he saw a shadow flying across the sky with two glowing blue eyes. It swooped down towards them and landed in front of them, a smile on its face. The demoness looked less feral now and more composed. In an odd mirror, the destruction around them slowed.


    "Leaving so soon, are we?" she asked. "I''m offended to leave a lady all alone like that! It''s truly unforgivable!"


    Lightning flashed across the sky as William dodged aside from the demoness" lunge. He lost his grip on Kiyora but had no time to grab her again. Rolling aside as her tail blade slammed into the masonry, he drew out his sword and slashed her across the leg. There was a scream, more like a beast than that of a person, and William ran.


    The demoness pursued, not caring about Kiyora anymore. William fled toward the tower. As he rushed in, he cursed the rigors of time that the doors should have rotted away. He raced still higher up, daring not to look back. As he did, he realized no more groaning or screeching of broken stonework. The devastation that had been taking place before seemed to have stopped altogether.


    It was of little comfort. William only hoped that the demoness was focused on him and not Kiyora. He had to kill it somehow. However, first, he had to lead it away. Kiyora might wake up while he was distracting it and escape.


    He went up floor after floor, hearing the sound of the pelting rain. Several times, he found that bits of the wall had fallen away. Beyond them, he could see the broken courtyards of Baltoth''s Retribution far below. He tried to contain his fear as he scaled past these, realizing how high he was.


    Finally, he came into the topmost room of the highest tower. He entered it and froze at what he saw. The demoness was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and an open window clearly in sight. She waved.


    "Wings, remember?" she said.


    She lunged forward. William threw his pack at her, batting it away by her tail. Yet he charged behind it and drove his sword into her chest. She screamed and backhanded him against the wall. The impact was horrible, and he staggered to the window as she drew the blade from her chest and threw it aside.


    Before she could lunge, the castle shuddered horribly. It nearly threw both of them from their feet. William staggered to the nearby window. Taking hold of the stonework outside, he climbed upwards. The wind howled around him. It threw his hair into his eyes and threatened to send him toppling from the tower to his death. Thunder roared, deafening him as he clambered hand over foot onto the roof. The metal here was slick. He could hardly keep from slipping as he tried to distance himself from the demoness.


    Then the demoness pulled herself onto the roof and rushed him, claw upraised. William ducked too late, and white-hot agony surged through one eye. Blood covered half his vision as he collapsed. It was all he could do to grab ahold of the spike to keep himself from falling from the tower.


    The demoness kicked him in the stomach twice. Then, she rose into the air. Her wings extended around her as she towered above the roof. She raised her claws. Into her palms, she summoned a great ball of violet fire. Reality itself recoiled from the unholy flames.


    "There is no escaping me, William!" she cried, voice filled with predatory joy.


    She raised the sphere of flame aloft as if to throw it. Yet she never did. Light surged down from on high as if by divine mandate, and she screamed as her entire body coursed with the energy. Louder and louder, she screamed as she fell from heaven like lightning.


    The tremors returned, worse than ever. The tower shook and fell downwards. William hoped Kiyora had gotten away. Then everything collapsed.

 Chapter Thirteen: Awakening

    William felt warm and safe. The agony of his wounds was gone, and he was resting on what he thought was soft turf. Opening his eyes, he realized he was lying in a field of just that. He could see other people, though they were blurry and not fully there. Alternatively, he was not fully there, and they were real.


    Then he saw him.


    There were no words to describe the majesty before him. He saw an image of the valor of knights throughout the universe. The closest he could come to a description was that of a man clad in armor with skin and hair as white as snow. Yet it was not unhealthy; he seemed the source of health in many ways.


    "You''ve been busy, William," said Elranor.


    William arose and bent to one knee in fealty. He drew his sword and offered it to Elranor, though he wondered where the sword had come from. He''d lost it, hadn''t he? "Lord Elranor, forgive me, please."


    "If it is incident on the boat that troubles you, then you need not fear my wrath," said Elranor. "Fear is natural when one faces their first battle, and you are not ready. Even so, you have performed admirably, and things have progressed, for the most part, as I had hoped."


    "What do you mean?" asked William, confused.


    "The demoness you faced was poised to gain control over Seathorius," said Elranor. "And had she gone unopposed, she would have succeeded. However, Kiyora has, for years, prevented her from gaining total victory. Now, with Baltoth''s Retribution destroyed, her power is greatly diminished."


    "Yet why did the castle collapse?" asked William.


    "To use the castle''s power, the demoness was forced to pour much of her strength into it," said Elranor. "They were one. When she was wounded, so was the castle. With her defeat, the castle was laid to waste. And yet, even her triumph now serves our purposes.


    "For the Mirror of Laevian drove Melchious mad, and it will be a long time before he can act against us."


    "But the demoness," said William, "she looked into the mirror and... she wasn''t affected as much, was she?"


    "That," said Elranor, "is a bit complicated. You see, when Melchious looked into the Mirror of Laevian, he was looking through your eyes. You might have been formed from sin, but you are a good person overall. So much as anyone is good.


    "Your kindness, courage, and compassion multiplied the effects of the Mirror of Laevian. They reawakened parts of him he has long since forgotten."


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "Melchious was mortal once," said Elranor. "He has fallen far since then and become a demon. Yet some elements of his old self remain. The demoness, on the other hand, is a purebred demon. Her existence is... simpler in nature."


    "I feel sorry for her." realized William.


    "Because she never had a choice?" guessed Elranor.


    "Yes," admitted William. "I mean... I don''t know."


    "Put it from your mind for now, William," said Elranor. "We have other business to speak of. Once you offered me your service? Do you still hold to that vow?"


    "Yes, of course, Lord Elranor!" said William, feeling enthusiastic. "I mean, my father will be very disappointed, and my mother will be furious, but-"


    "Calm yourself," laughed Elranor. "I will not be asking for anything inconvenient just yet. You have served me well in your own fashion already. But, even so, I do not have in mind the priesthood for you."


    "Then what?" asked William.


    "I want you to become one of my paladins," said Elranor.


    "Me?" asked William, hardly believing his ears. "A paladin?"


    "Yes, you are ideally suited to the task," said Elranor.


    "But I always thought you''d have wanted someone like Raynald or my father," said William.


    "Raynald is an excellent warrior," said Elranor, "but he loves carnage too much. Your father didn''t want any part in my service. He does not trust the church and so no longer trusts me. Are you willing to do my work?"


    "Well..." William paused. "Yes, I''ll do as you ask."


    "Excellent," said Elranor, "then in time, I will call upon you for your service."


    "What kind of service?" asked William. "I mean... I''m not sure I''ll be able to do anything right now-"


    "Not right away, of course," said Elranor. "You have far too much work to do elsewhere. But in time."


    "I understand, Elranor," said William. "But the tower I was on was falling, and I was injured; how can I do anything? I ought to be dead."


    "Peace, William," said Elranor, "I would not be much of a god if I could not perform a few miracles." He looked up. "The time has come for you to awaken. Unfortunately, you are not out of Seathorius yet."


    "I understand, Elranor," said William.


    And then he woke up. His vision was blurry at first, and then he realized he was looking up at Kiyora, who was shaking him. There was a line of pain over his left eye, which would not go away. He tried to heal it but in vain. "Enough, enough; I''m already awake."


    "Oh good," said Kiyora, "because I''m not."


    "Where are we?" asked William, looking around and ignoring the pain.


    All around him were piles of fallen masonry. Baltoth''s Retribution was a shattered remnant of what it had once been. He could see the tower, which had fallen with him on it. He guessed they were in the middle of a courtyard as well as he could.


    "Beats me," admitted Kiyora, "I showed up to find you about to commit suicide. Then I looked in that mirror and was thrown back into the real world. Then I fell asleep again, and I was here. Kind of weird; usually, when I dream, I descend from heaven or something like that.


    "What have you been up to all this time?"


    "It is very complicated," said William, standing up. "I''m not sure we have time for it now. The fall of this castle may have drawn other creatures to us. Some of which may be of a less than savory nature."


    His eyes fell on his sword, planted in the ground with his pack leaning against it. "How did you get those back?"


    "Oh, those were yours?" asked Kiyora. "They were there when I woke up."


    William sheathed his sword and checked his pack. There were many rations within it, enough for two people to go for a few days at least. There was also his harp. His eye kept hurting. "Well, I''m glad they did. Why does my eye hurt?"


    "I uh..." Kiyora shifted. "You have a scar there, over your eye. Do you know how it happened?"


    "No," admitted William, trying to ignore it. "However, we left behind the only mirror in the wreckage. Come on; we''d best-"


    There was a surge of violet fire from some of the masonry, and it was flung away. Stones flew everywhere, and William ducked below a huge one that nearly caved in his skull. Out of the rock emerged the demoness. Her arm was broken, but it was healing before his eyes. Her wings fanned huge like a dragon, and her tail whipped in a fury. She roared skyward with a noise that made him shake.


    "Oh no..." said William.


    "You..." the demoness stepped forward. "You... You know what, to heaven with it. I''m done."


    "What do you mean you''re done?" asked William.


    "I mean, I''m done!" said the demoness. "I''ve already won by removing Melchious from power! I''m sick and tired of trying to kill you when I stand nothing further to gain by it!


    "Now, get out of my domain!"


    "We''ve been trying to do that all this time," said William. "And would have if not for you."


    "Just go!" snapped the demoness.


    Then she leaped into the air and flew off, muttering to herself. William watched her fade into the distance and reflected that she was tough to kill. He was glad he hadn''t had to fight her. Even so, the scar on his face hurt.


    "So, who was that person anyway?" asked Kiyora as they turned and left.


    "An unholy abomination who talks too much," said William.


    "You seemed familiar with her," noted Kiyora.


    "I don''t know what you''re talking about." mused William.


    The gates had been wrecked. They had broken so badly that they had to pick their way over them. As they made their way out, Kiyora looked around with interest.


    "What exactly happened here to break this place to pieces?" she asked.


    "I think the demoness bound the castle to her life force," said William. "It was complicated. Once I wounded her badly, the castle started to break apart. Though it started when she looked into the Mirror of Laevian."


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    "Well, no one is going to be fixing that anytime soon," mused Kiyora. "I figured there had been some invasion by dragons. So you did all this?"


    "I don''t expect I would have managed it without Elranor," said William. "And we''d certainly both be dead."


    "Not me," said Kiyora. "What now?"


    "Well, that depends." mused William. "I could try to find Felix, but he''s already under orders to escape to Artarq. Given that the demoness had no interest in him, he might already be ahead of us. So I... I guess we ought to head north toward Artarq on foot."


    "Okay, so this Artarq place," said Kiyora, "why are we going there?"


    "Because that is where I was heading in the first place," said William. "I guess you could take shelter with the dwarves, but that is far off. And I think you''d be safer in Artarq anyway."


    "Yeah, this place is getting boring." mused Kiyora. "Might be fun to dream about something else, y''know."


    "Not really," admitted William before turning around to look at the ruins. "Okay, the gate was facing me when I came out of the trees. So we went past the castle and headed through the trees on the other side. We''re very near Artarq, so once we get there, we can take shelter in one of the border forts."


    "Border forts?" asked Kiyora. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes," said William, "the King of Antion established border forts on the border. One of the only land routes in. The idea was to protect against raids by satyrs and such.


    "I''m not sure they will know who we are. But it''s the best plan I can manage on short notice. You seem more relaxed. I mean... You lost your powers, I think."


    "Oh right, yeah," said Kiyora. "I guess I did. Whatever, the dream was getting old very quickly."


    They made their way past the castle''s ruins and into the woods. As they did so out of the trees, padding feet came. Out of the trees came Massacre, approaching William and Kiyora. The chimera sniffed at William, and he scratched its goat head behind the ears.


    "I missed you," said William. "But I''m all right now. I''ll play you some music once we''re far from here."


    Then, to William''s surprise, Massacre kneeled down before Kiyora.


    "...I remember you," said Kiyora. "Wow, you''ve gotten big, haven''t you?"


    "You know Massacre?" asked William.


    "You named her Massacre?" asked Kiyora. "That''s a bit bloodthirsty, don''t you think?"


    "He seemed to like it," said William.


    "She," said Kiyora, kneeling down to scratch Massacre behind the ears. "Massacre is a she. Isn''t that right, girl?"


    "He has a mane," said William.


    Massacre rolled over on her back, and Kiyora rubbed her belly. William crossed his arms and noted the lack of specific anatomy. Okay, so Kiyora was right.


    "All chimeras have manes," said Kiyora. "It''s part of their species."


    "How do you know Massacre, though?" asked William.


    "Oh, I saved her from satyrs," said Kiyora. "Her parents had been hunted for their pelts, and she was running for her life. So I got the trees to delve a hole into a mound for her to hide."


    "That mound was a treasure trove when Felix and I found it," said William.


    Massacre grunted in irritation, and her dragon''s head hissed. William noted the flicking of her snake tail at the subject. Again, he felt irritation at the accusation.


    "Oh, come on," said William, "you tried to kill us when we first met. I tried to convince Felix not to, but he wouldn''t listen."


    To this, Massacre made something between a growl and a grunt.


    "Massacre says that you were in her home," said Kiyora. "And had brought the satyrs there."


    "Yes, well, I didn''t know it was your home," said William. "And we couldn''t afford to be captured by the satyrs. You couldn''t use the harp alone; it was just sitting there."


    Massacre made another sound.


    "Massacre says that is why she is following you," said Kiyora. "The harp is hers, but as long as you play it for her, she''ll let you hang onto it."


    "Very well; I am grateful for your help," said William. "Now, can we please move on?"


    The trees seemed to change again. They were no longer the dangerous things they were before. Neither were they indifferent. They, indeed, weren''t friendly. Instead, the trees became... different. It was challenging to understand precisely how they were reacting to them. They became leafier and leafier, and the underbrush grew thicker. William and Kiyora were struggling to move forward. Thorns tore at their sides, and they often had to take lengthy detours to get past some areas. Even then, they had to force their way through.


    "Kiyora," said William, "could you tell these trees and things to move out of the way?"


    "I could." mused Kiyora. "But this is pretty far away from where I normally operate. It might not do anything." She closed her eyes and began to glow faintly. The trees and underbrush seemed to coil and shift tighter than before.


    After a moment, Kiyora opened her eyes and sighed. "It is no good; they don''t want to listen to me. Their old and bitter creatures don''t particularly like each other.


    They only work together to keep other people out. Mainly because they dislike things other than themselves even more."


    "One moment," said William, drawing his sword. "I''ll see if I can hack through-"


    Massacre''s dragonhead unleashed a torrent of flame into the underbrush. It burned it away before their eyes in moments. William feared it might start a forest fire, but the flames died quickly. Moments later, the brambles began to regrow.


    "Let''s go before we''re stuck again," said William.


    They moved on, and as they did so, Massacre''s goat head occasionally bit chunks off the brambles. Her chewing on them was very loud. Massacre ate through the thornbushes and various other plants quickly. They occasionally paused to burn through some more. It was amazing and worrying how fast the plants in this region seemed to regrow.


    Several times, William was caught on the foot and nearly fell. Once, he had to hack his way free of a thornbush, which reached out to grab him. The trees were determined to keep them out. Despite Massacre''s fire, they did not seem to be getting anywhere.


    "Do you feel we''re going in circles?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes, actually," said William. "Do you know this part of the woods at all? Have you ever been here before?"


    "I mostly appear around Savior''s Run," said Kiyora. "The farther you get from that, the fewer people you find. Though I heard there are some tribes of satyrs who live in this region."


    "I thought Melchious had his power mostly on the western side of the river," said William. "That is what Rusara taught me."


    "Oh, the satyrs who worship Melchious all live there," said Kiyora. "But there are other gods besides myself and Melchious. Laevian has some pretty nasty critters in this region, and there is... well... Laughing Wraith."


    Laughing Wraith. Something about the name sent a shudder down William''s spine. It was like Melchious but crueler and more feral. He wasn''t sure why. "What is this Laughing Wraith?" It didn''t seem like a who.


    "I have no idea," admitted Kiyora. "He showed up a little while ago, probably hundreds of years in dream time. Melchious and I were here first, and we were all different from him.


    "His creatures mostly keep to themselves. You don''t want to wander into their neck of the woods, though. Helping people in trouble with Laughing Wraith is..." She shuddered. "Uh, it has caused me more than my share of nightmares."


    "And you led us into their domain?" asked William.


    Kiyora blinked. "Oh, I guess I did. Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk. And anyway, it was your idea."


    "If you''d warned me about this, I''d have gone to the otters," muttered William. "So, are there any other nightmarish horrors I should know about before we go any further?"


    "None that I can think of, no," said Kiyora.


    "Are you sure?" asked William. "Because I heard from the Nakmar that some devour the bodies of the slain."


    "Oh, those are just vultures," Kiyora laughed. "Nice birds once you get to know them."


    Behind him, Massacre began to munch on some thorns.

 Chapter Fourteen: In a Sunlit Wood

    William felt warm and safe. The agony of his wounds was gone, and he was resting on what he thought was soft turf. Opening his eyes, William realized he was lying in a field of just that. He could see other people, though they were blurry and not fully there. Alternatively, he was not fully there, and they were real.


    Then he saw him.


    There were no words to describe the majesty before him. He saw an image of the valor of knights throughout the universe. The closest he could come to a description was that of a man clad in armor with skin and hair as white as snow. Yet it was not unhealthy; he seemed the source of health in many ways.


    "You''ve been busy, William," said Elranor.


    William arose and bent to one knee in fealty. He drew his sword and offered it to Elranor, though he wondered where the sword had come from. He''d lost it, hadn''t he? "Lord Elranor, forgive me, please."


    "If it is events on the boat that troubles you, then you need not fear my wrath," said Elranor. "Fear is natural when one faces their first battle, and you are not ready. Even so, you have performed admirably, and things have progressed, for the most part, as I had hoped."


    "What do you mean?" asked William, confused.


    "The demoness you faced was poised to gain control over Seathorius," said Elranor. "And had she gone unopposed, she would have succeeded. However, Kiyora has, for years, prevented her from gaining total victory. With Baltoth''s Retribution destroyed, her power is greatly diminished."


    "Yet why did the castle collapse?" asked William.


    "To use the castle''s power, the demoness was forced to pour much of her strength into it," said Elranor. "They were one. When she was wounded, so was the castle. With her defeat, the castle was laid to waste. And yet, even her triumph now serves our purposes.


    "For the Mirror of Laevian drove Melchious mad, and it will be long before he can act against us."


    "But the demoness," said William, "she looked into the mirror and... she wasn''t affected as much, was she?"


    "That," said Elranor, "is a bit complicated. You see, when Melchious looked into the Mirror of Laevian, he was looking through your eyes. You might have been formed from sin, but you are a good person overall. So much as anyone is good.


    "Your kindness, courage, and compassion multiplied the effects of the Mirror of Laevian. They reawakened parts of him he has long since forgotten."


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "Melchious was mortal once," said Elranor. "He has fallen far since then and become a demon. Yet some elements of his old self remain. The demoness, on the other hand, is a purebred demon. Her existence is... simpler in nature."


    "I feel sorry for her." realized William.


    "Because she never had a choice?" guessed Elranor.


    "Yes," admitted William. "I mean... I don''t know."


    "Put it from your mind for now, William," said Elranor. "We have other business to speak of. Once you offered me your service? Do you still hold to that vow?"


    "Yes, of course, Lord Elranor!" said William, feeling enthusiastic. "I mean, my father will be very disappointed, and my mother will be furious, but-"


    "Calm yourself," laughed Elranor. "I will not be asking for anything inconvenient just yet. You have served me well in your own fashion already. But, even so, I do not have in mind the priesthood for you."


    "Then what?" asked William.


    "I want you to become one of my paladins," said Elranor.


    "Me?" asked William, hardly believing his ears. "A paladin?"


    "Yes, you are ideally suited to the task," said Elranor.


    "But I always thought you''d have wanted someone like Raynald or my father," said William.


    "Raynald is an excellent warrior," said Elranor, "but he loves carnage too much. Your father didn''t want any part in my service. He does not trust the church and so no longer trusts me. Are you willing to do my work?"


    "Well..." William paused. "Yes, I''ll do as you ask."


    "Excellent," said Elranor, "then in time, I will call upon you for your service." sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What kind of service?" asked William. "I mean... I''m not sure I''ll be able to do anything right now-"


    "Not right away, of course," said Elranor. "You have far too much work to do elsewhere. But in time."


    "I understand, Elranor," said William. "But the tower I was on was falling, and I was injured; how can I do anything? I ought to be dead."


    "Peace, William," said Elranor, "I would not be much of a god if I could not perform a few miracles." He looked up. "The time has come for you to awaken. Unfortunately, you are not out of Seathorius yet."


    "I understand, Elranor," said William.


    And then he woke up. His vision was blurry at first, and then he realized he was looking up at Kiyora, who was shaking him. There was a line of pain over his left eye, which would not go away. He tried to heal it but in vain. "Enough, enough; I''m already awake."


    "Oh good," said Kiyora, "because I''m not."


    "Where are we?" asked William, looking around and ignoring the pain.


    All around him were piles of fallen masonry. Baltoth''s Retribution was a shattered remnant of what it had once been. He could see the tower, which had fallen with him on it. He guessed they were in the middle of a courtyard as well as he could.


    "Beats me," admitted Kiyora, "I showed up to find you about to commit suicide. Then I looked in that mirror and was thrown back into the real world. Then I fell asleep again, and I was here. Kind of weird; usually, when I dream, I descend from heaven or something like that.


    "What have you been up to all this time?"


    "It is very complicated," said William, standing up. "I''m not sure we have time for it now. The fall of this castle may have drawn other creatures to us. Some of which may be of a less than savory nature."


    His eyes fell on his sword, planted in the ground with his pack leaning against it. "How did you get those back?"


    "Oh, those were yours?" asked Kiyora. "They were there when I woke up."


    William sheathed his sword and checked his pack. There were many rations within it, enough for two people to go for a few days at least. There was also his harp. His eye kept hurting. "Well, I''m glad they did. Why does my eye hurt?"


    "I uh..." Kiyora shifted. "You have a scar there, over your eye. Do you know how it happened?"


    "No," admitted William, trying to ignore it. "However, we left behind the only mirror in the wreckage. Come on; we''d best-"


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    There was a surge of violet fire from some of the masonry, and it was flung away. Stones flew everywhere, and William ducked below a huge one that nearly caved in his skull. Out of the rock emerged the demoness. Her arm was broken, but it was healing before his eyes. Her wings fanned huge like a dragon, and her tail whipped in a fury. She roared skyward with a noise that made him shake.


    "Oh no..." said William.


    "You..." the demoness stepped forward. "You... You know what, to heaven with it. I''m done."


    "What do you mean you''re done?" asked William.


    "I mean, I''m done!" said the demoness. "I''ve already won by removing Melchious from power! I''m sick and tired of trying to kill you when I stand nothing further to gain by it!


    "Now, get out of my domain!"


    "We''ve been trying to do that all this time," said William. "And would have if not for you."


    "Just go!" snapped the demoness.


    Then she leaped into the air and flew off, muttering to herself. William watched her fade into the distance and reflected that she was tough to kill. He was glad he hadn''t had to fight her. Even so, the scar on his face hurt.


    "So, who was that person anyway?" asked Kiyora as they turned and left.


    "An unholy abomination who talks too much," said William.


    "You seemed familiar with her," noted Kiyora.


    "I don''t know what you''re talking about." mused William.


    The gates had been wrecked. They had broken so badly that they had to pick their way over them. As they made their way out, Kiyora looked around with interest.


    "What exactly happened here to break this place to pieces?" she asked.


    "I think the demoness bound the castle to her life force," said William. "It was complicated. Once I wounded her badly, the castle started to break apart. Though it started when she looked into the Mirror of Laevian."


    "Well, no one is going to be fixing that anytime soon," mused Kiyora. "I figured there had been some invasion by dragons. So you did all this?"


    "I don''t expect I would have managed it without Elranor," said William. "And we''d certainly both be dead."


    "Not me," said Kiyora. "What now?"


    "Well, that depends." mused William. "I could try to find Felix, but he''s already under orders to escape to Artarq. Given that the demoness had no interest in him, he might already be ahead of us. So I... I guess we ought to head north toward Artarq on foot."


    "Okay, so this Artarq place," said Kiyora, "why are we going there?"


    "Because that is where I was heading in the first place," said William. "I guess you could take shelter with the dwarves, but that is far off. And I think you''d be safer in Artarq anyway."


    "Yeah, this place is getting boring." mused Kiyora. "Might be fun to dream about something else, y''know."


    "Not really," admitted William before turning around to look at the ruins. "Okay, the gate was facing me when I came out of the trees. So we went past the castle and headed through the trees on the other side. We''re very near Artarq, so once we get there, we can take shelter in one of the border forts."


    "Border forts?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said William, "the King of Antion established border forts on the border. One of the only land routes in. The idea was to protect against raids by satyrs and such.


    "I''m not sure they will know who we are. But it''s the best plan I can manage on short notice. You seem more relaxed. I mean... You lost your powers, I think."


    "Oh right, yeah," said Kiyora. "I guess I did. Whatever, the dream was getting old very quickly."


    They made their way past the castle''s ruins and into the woods. As they did so out of the trees, padding feet came. Out of the trees came Massacre, approaching William and Kiyora. The chimera sniffed at William, and he scratched its goat head behind the ears.


    "I missed you," said William. "But I''m all right now. I''ll play you some music once we''re far from here."


    Then, to William''s surprise, Massacre kneeled down before Kiyora.


    "...I remember you," said Kiyora. "Wow, you''ve gotten big, haven''t you?"


    "You know Massacre?" asked William.


    "You named her Massacre?" asked Kiyora. "That''s a bit bloodthirsty, don''t you think?"


    "He seemed to like it," said William.


    "She," said Kiyora, kneeling down to scratch Massacre behind the ears. "Massacre is a she. Isn''t that right, girl?"


    "He has a mane," said William.


    Massacre rolled over on her back, and Kiyora rubbed her belly. William crossed his arms and noted the lack of specific anatomy. Okay, so Kiyora was right.


    "All chimeras have manes," said Kiyora. "It''s part of their species."


    "How do you know Massacre, though?" asked William.


    "Oh, I saved her from satyrs," said Kiyora. "Her parents had been hunted for their pelts, and she was running for her life. So I got the trees to delve a hole into a mound for her to hide."


    "That mound was a treasure trove when Felix and I found it," said William.


    Massacre grunted in irritation, and her dragon''s head hissed. William noted the flicking of her snake tail at the subject. Again, he felt irritation at the accusation.


    "Oh, come on," said William, "you tried to kill us when we first met. I tried to convince Felix not to, but he wouldn''t listen."


    To this, Massacre made something between a growl and a grunt.


    "Massacre says that you were in her home," said Kiyora. "And had brought the satyrs there."


    "Yes, well, I didn''t know it was your home," said William. "And we couldn''t afford to be captured by the satyrs. You couldn''t use the harp alone; it was just sitting there."


    Massacre made another sound.


    "Massacre says that is why she is following you," said Kiyora. "The harp is hers, but as long as you play it for her, she''ll let you hang onto it."


    "Very well; I am grateful for your help," said William. "Now, can we please move on?"


    The trees seemed to change again. They were no longer the dangerous things they were before. Neither were they indifferent. They, indeed, weren''t friendly. Instead, the trees became... different. It was challenging to understand precisely how they were reacting to them. They became leafier and leafier, and the underbrush grew thicker. William and Kiyora were struggling to move forward. Thorns tore at their sides, and they often had to take lengthy detours to get past some areas. Even then, they had to force their way through.


    "Kiyora," said William, "could you tell these trees and things to move out of the way?"


    "I could." mused Kiyora. "But this is pretty far away from where I normally operate. It might not do anything." She closed her eyes and began to glow faintly. The trees and underbrush seemed to coil and shift tighter than before.


    After a moment, Kiyora opened her eyes and sighed. "It is no good; they don''t want to listen to me. Their old and bitter creatures don''t particularly like each other.


    They only work together to keep other people out. Mainly because they dislike things other than themselves even more."


    "One moment," said William, drawing his sword. "I''ll see if I can hack through-"


    Massacre''s dragonhead unleashed a torrent of flame into the underbrush. It burned it away before their eyes in moments. William feared it might start a forest fire, but the flames died quickly. Moments later, the brambles began to regrow.


    "Let''s go before we''re stuck again," said William.


    They moved on, and as they did so, Massacre''s goat head occasionally bit chunks off the brambles. Her chewing on them was very loud. Massacre ate through the thornbushes and various other plants quickly. They occasionally paused to burn through some more. It was amazing and worrying how fast the plants in this region seemed to regrow.


    Several times, William was caught on the foot and nearly fell. Once, he had to hack his way free of a thornbush, which reached out to grab him. The trees were determined to keep them out. Despite Massacre''s fire, they did not seem to be getting anywhere.


    "Do you feel we''re going in circles?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes, actually," said William. "Do you know this part of the woods at all? Have you ever been here before?"


    "I mostly appear around Savior''s Run," said Kiyora. "The farther you get from that, the fewer people you find. Though I heard there are some tribes of satyrs who live in this region."


    "I thought Melchious had his power mostly on the western side of the river," said William. "That is what Rusara taught me."


    "Oh, the satyrs who worship Melchious all live there," said Kiyora. "But there are other gods besides myself and Melchious. Laevian has some pretty nasty critters in this region, and there is... well... Laughing Wraith."


    Laughing Wraith. Something about the name sent a shudder down William''s spine. It was like Melchious but crueler and more feral. He wasn''t sure why. "What is this Laughing Wraith?" It didn''t seem like a who.


    "I have no idea," admitted Kiyora. "He showed up a little while ago, probably hundreds of years in dream time. Melchious and I were here first, and we were all different from him.


    "His creatures mostly keep to themselves. You don''t want to wander into their neck of the woods, though. Helping people in trouble with Laughing Wraith is..." She shuddered. "Uh, it has caused me more than my share of nightmares."


    "And you led us into their domain?" asked William.


    Kiyora blinked. "Oh, I guess I did. Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk. And anyway, it was your idea."


    "If you''d warned me about this, I''d have gone to the otters," muttered William. "So, are there any other nightmarish horrors I should know about before we go any further?"


    "None that I can think of, no," said Kiyora.


    "Are you sure?" asked William. "Because I heard from the Nakmar that some devour the bodies of the slain."


    "Oh, those are just vultures," Kiyora laughed. "Nice birds once you get to know them."


    Behind him, Massacre began to munch on some thorns.

 Chapter Fifteen: The Book

    They found an area secluded from the wind with a clear view of the stars. There they sat down to rest. Kiyora spoke with the trees around while William set down his bedroll. Massacre was looking at him pointedly. William sighed before drawing out the harp and almost beginning to play. Then he stopped.


    "Massacre," he said, "if I play this music, it might draw the creature to us."


    "Oh, don''t worry about it." said Kiyora, "You can''t get so caught up in these things."


    "Have you been paying attention?" asked William.


    "It was a nightmare," said Kiyora, "it happens sometimes. The best thing is to forget them."


    With a sigh, William began to play the harp. The melody resounded through the trees, and he found his frayed nerves calming at the sound of it. Massacre, too seemed to be calming, and Kiyora sat down to listen. He played and played until he was tired of it, and then he stopped. By then, Massacre was sleeping.


    "You have a lot of talent with that," said Kiyora.


    "It''s the harp," said William. "The worst musician in the world could make beautiful music with this. Though Rusara taught me how to play."


    "I''m terrible with musical instruments," said Kiyora. "When I was a little kid, I wanted to join the school band, but I was so bad they kicked me out."


    "About this school, you keep referring to," said William. "Is it like those in Magicora?"


    "Magicora?" asked Kiyora. "What''s that?"


    "It is a city far from here where many wielders of magic study together," said William. "I don''t really know much about them. They teach people to commune with spirits and have a wealth of knowledge about the world beyond. Rusara studied there, actually.


    "Father has been trying for years to get some of their texts for our library back home, but he hasn''t managed it yet."


    "Well, we don''t get taught magic if that''s what you mean," said Kiyora. "Nothing so interesting. No, we learn normal stuff. Mathematics, literature, history, homemaking, martial arts, that sort of thing."


    "Oh, so it''s academic," said William. "They have such places in Calisha, or so I am told. And also on the elvish reservations."


    "Elvish reservations?" asked Kiyora, an edge in her tone. "What is that supposed to mean?"


    "Um..." William tried to think of a way to say things tactfully. "A long time ago, the elves were the supreme rulers of the world. They didn''t really regard those they called lesser races as people. So they tried to exterminate us. But Elranor came, and he organized us with aid from the dragons, Smyngoth and Vrengar. They gave us a fighting chance.


    "Then our greatest king, Anoa the Bright, came to power. He rallied all the races together and conquered the whole of Harlenor. The wars were bloody; both races were waging wars of extermination against each other. But there were a lot more of us, so the elves were overwhelmed.


    "Eventually, Elranor brooked a treaty with Alchara, the goddess of the elves. He gave them the whole of Seathorius. But they were weak after the wars. So the Dust Elves stole a large part of the territory from them. They were the ones who built Baltoth''s Retribution. Meanwhile, Anoa founded Harlenor. He and his heirs expanded it throughout their lifetimes."


    "And I subconsciously desire to exterminate my species." reflected Kiyora. "Weird. So you''re from this Harlenor place, then?"


    "How can you not know all this?" asked William.


    "I''m not really big on history, even in the real world," said Kiyora with a shrug.


    "Well-" William began. Then suddenly, he stood up, feeling a familiar presence approaching. He was here.


    Then a shape burst out of the shadow of a tree and fell at their feet. It was covered in filthy rags and breathing heavily. Its skin was dark, and as William kneeled by it, he confirmed who it was. "Felix!"


    Felix looked up, eyes bleary. "It... I heard music... came..."


    William set a hand on his shoulder and called upon the energy which had possessed him before. It surged into Felix, and William felt it is restoring the boy''s strength. Cuts and bruises on him were healed, and he arose, bleary-eyed.


    "Can I... can I have some water?" asked Felix.


    William offered him the last of his canteen, and Felix drank it in gulps. Then, finally, he looked up. His eyes were wild with fear. "We have to get away from here now," said Felix. "That thing is coming."


    "We may have already met it," said William. "Kiyora, come on, we need to go."


    "But we just got here," said Kiyora. "Can''t we rest-"


    "Felix knows what he is doing," said William. "The music probably attracted it. Now let''s move." William rolled up his bedroll and stowed away his harp. Felix kneeled on the ground, bleary-eyed and unsteady as he did so. He looked like he had been lying in a ditch for a week, but it couldn''t have been that long since they parted, could it?


    Then came the groaning. The trees were moaning around them with effort. William looked around at them and realized that they were shifting. The wood was changing before his eyes. He''d thought that Baltoth''s Retribution was the source of the instability in Seathorius. Instead, it seemed it was just another means of control.


    He packed as quickly as he could. "Kiyora, do you know where we can find some water?"


    "I''ll ask the trees," said Kiyora before setting a hand on one of them. There was a long pause. Then she looked up, a little pale. "They''re afraid. The trees are afraid. This has never happened before now."


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    "Okay, but do you know where we can find some water?" asked William. "We won''t get far without it."


    "Um..." Kiyora concentrated. "Okay, they''ve agreed to lead us to a pool. But... they want us to get out of here. They''re trying to stop him from coming, but he is forcing his way through."


    "We should make a break for it," said Felix. "Run now."


    Massacre made a sound in agreement. William considered the idea but shook his head. There was no time, but they could not wait.


    "We need water first," said William. "We have no idea how far away we are. Or how often we''ll find water."


    "Can we go, please?!" asked Kiyora.


    As it turned out, the trees led them away. They saw no sign of whatever struggle was taking place beyond their sight. The roots and branches seemed to duck out of their way. They almost bowed before Kiyora as they made their way onwards. Even so, it was hardly easy, for Felix seemed on the brink of collapse.


    Every so often, he would stumble, and William would have to stop him from falling. Finally, the ground sloped downwards and became rocky and easy to trip over, and the going became harder. Finally, Felix dropped to his knees and breathed for air, unable to rise.


    "Felix," said William, "it is only a little further."


    "How can you know that?" snapped Felix, "I''ve been running and hiding for days... that thing is still out there..."


    "That is exactly why we need to keep moving," said William. "We''re moving away from it right now. And we need to keep running away from it.


    Then there was an ungodly shrieking noise, not precisely heard but felt in their souls. William felt they were in terrible danger, and Felix felt the same. The other boy bolted forward, tripping over a loose stone and picking himself up in moments. They ran the rest of the way, sprinting through the rough ground as they got lower and lower. William found his strength diminishing, and Felix was on his last legs. Kiyora didn''t seem used to this running, yet she seemed the least concerned of the four of them. Massacre raced ahead, occasionally doubling back to find them struggling to keep up.


    His heart beat faster and faster, his legs ached, and his pace began to slacken. They were all tired, too tired to keep on moving. Then William saw something horrible out of the corner of his eye. He was spurred on in a panic, finding he had more strength than they had thought. The path led them ever onward until, at last, they came to a large stream running through the woodlands. Here they stopped in exhaustion. William filled his water skin, drank it, and filled it again. Felix and Kiyora did the same, and all three of them washed the dirt and grime from them as quickly as they could. Finally, all three of Massacre''s heads drank the water thirstily.


    "Why... why are you traveling with the chimera?" asked Felix. "And what is she doing here?" He looked to Kiyora.


    "Oh, Massacre?" asked William. "She saved me from the demoness, and I healed her. We''ve been hard put to it. What have you been up to?"


    "I made for Artarq as you said," said Felix. "But then I ran into a... something, I''m not sure what. I never saw it full-on, but it wasn''t very pleasant. Just... horrible. I ran from it. I didn''t know where I was going, so all I could do was try to stay alive.


    "I forgot things, everything, even my name. Then I heard the music of that harp. I recognized it... though I needed to figure out where and I followed after it. Things started coming back to me. Then I found you."


    "Then I''m very glad Massacre wanted to hear the music," said William. "What you saw is called Laughing Wraith. I gather Kiyora has clashed with him before." The pain in his scar returned, and he winced.


    "I haven''t fought him if that''s what you mean." said Kiyora "I don''t fight; I help people. People fight each other, but I don''t dream about committing violence."


    "We should rest here for the night, violence or no." said William "I doubt we can go on any further."


    Kiyora threw herself to the ground while Felix set about to make a fire. William drew out the book he had stolen from the mansion and began reading it. The wood began to burn, warming them; the others warmed their hands.


    "William," said Kiyora, "what are you reading?"


    "Oh, this?" asked William. "It appears to be a chronicle of a sorcerer named Emiran Alkatosh, who came to that mansion we saw. He wanted to study the nature of Seathorius in the hopes of harnessing it."


    "What did he learn?" Kiyora asked, sitting up.


    "Well, his accounts are pretty boring for the most part," said William. "At least so far. Emiran was a Calishan, I think. The name sounds Calishan."


    "He was," said Felix. "Emiran was a powerful sorcerer who served in Baltoth''s court. He fell out of favor, though, and retired. Eventually, he moved to Seathorius in the hopes of studying it. He gave several reports and then disappeared.


    "I studied him when my mother and I still lived in Calisha."


    "Emiran seems to have been busy," said William, "he used his powers to force the local satyrs to leave. This caused a migration of sorts. Then, once he''d claimed the area for himself, he started trying to harness the energies of this place."


    "Wait a minute," said Kiyora. "I thought you said people could only use magic by drawing it from other sources."


    "Yes," said William, "there are different types. For example, someone who draws power from a god is a holy agent. Someone who makes a pact with a demon is a heretic. Someone who deals with lesser entities such as nature spirits and djinn is a sorcerer. Now can I please continue?"


    "Yeah, yeah, whatever," said Kiyora.


    "Anyway, Emiran cleared out this whole region north of Baltoth''s Retribution," said William. "And went there once himself, though he nearly got killed. He concluded that the magic of Seathorius comes from an outside source. The dreams and nightmares of people from this world and other worlds are made manifest here.


    He seems to have contacted Kiyora to know how things worked." He looked up. "Why didn''t you mention this?"


    "Look, I''ve got a lot of worshippers. One guy asked me a bunch of questions I don''t know the answers to isn''t something I''m going to remember," said Kiyora. "He was a real jerk too. I''d never been in that mansion before; I''ll tell you that."


    "Well, whatever the case, it doesn''t change what happened," said William. "Emiran looks to have become obsessed with harnessing Seathorius. He seems to have tried to have conjured up a dreamer of his own."


    "What?" said Felix.


    "He became obsessed with what he called dreamers. I guess that means people like Kiyora. He mentions them in almost every entry. He reasoned that since they can enter the world, there might be a way to draw them in." said William. "He seems to have consulted with Melchious on this subject. The two of them worked closely, hoping to summon a dreamer."


    "What would Melchious gain from that?" asked Felix.


    "I have no idea," said William. "Emiran suspected Melchious wanted a pawn. Someone to take control of the satyrs who didn''t worship him. In this case, the dreamer would not have any of his memories. The idea would be that they could create an entity that could interact with the world like a dreamer. But they would be subservient to the two."


    "Did it work?" asked Kiyora.


    "I don''t know," admitted William. "He didn''t know either. He performed the ritual. However, his pentacle was meant for demons and otherworldly creatures. It escaped and began hunting them and everyone else in the region.


    "It seems that his servants started having horrific visions and then dying. Emiran becomes increasingly desperate after that. It looks like he could not escape from Seathorius; he returned to the manor every time he tried to leave.


    The last few passages are a frantic scrawl...


    "''He is laughing.''"


    "Oh, like the walls. So that''s where Laughing Wraith came from," said Kiyora.


    William and Felix looked up. "What?"


    "Laughing Wraith," said Kiyora, "he was the other dreamer. Wow, I''ve got an evil counterpart; this is so cool!" S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You might show some moderate concern at all this," said William.


    "Nah," she said with a yawn. "Well, I''m going to sleep. Good night."


    And she lay down before almost at once falling asleep. William shut the book and stowed it away back in his pack. He looked at Felix.


    "I cannot read that girl," William said.


    "I don''t much care," admitted Felix.


    William played the harp for Massacre again as the fires died and finally set down his bedroll. He lay back and waited for sleep to take him. The last thing he saw before he drifted off was two of Massacre''s heads sleeping while the third stood guard.

 Chapter Sixteen: A Field of Flowers

    William awoke and saw a claw reaching out for him. He rolled aside and grasped for his sword. Then he realized it was only a tendril of thorny branches. Massacre approached and chomped a bite out of it, munching on it. Looking around, he saw that Massacre had eaten away most of the surrounding underbrush. She had eaten well last night.


    William almost laughed. "Massacre, do you ever stop eating?"


    Massacre made a sound in its throats, which might have been a harsh reply. William sighed. "All right, all right," he said, "are the others up?"


    "The others are up," said Felix, who was tying his boot laces.


    William looked up and saw Felix cooking a rabbit on a stick over a merry fire. Some part of him suggested that it would be very foolish to do this. Another was so tired of rations that he didn''t care. He approached Felix.


    "Where did you get the rabbit?"


    "Massacre caught it," said Felix. "It isn''t done yet, so wait."


    "Where is Kiyora, then?" asked William.


    "Wandering around and communing with trees or something like that," said Felix.


    "You let her go off on her own?" asked William.


    "She thinks this life or death struggle against nature is a dream," muttered Felix. "If she gets hurt, it may enlighten her otherwise."


    "Because of what we''ve been through, I''ll forgive that statement," said William. "Which way did she go?"


    Felix pointed with one hand and turned the stick. William made his way in that direction, finding the trees moving around him as he did so. He glanced back, afraid that he might be cut off from the others, and was relieved to see them still there.


    Then he came into a clearing.


    Kiyora stood at the center, and the winds howled around her. Leaves flowed around her in waves, and her eyes were glowing. Her arms were upraised, and her feet floated off of the ground as magic surged around her. Her bosom rose and fell as the light of her pupils grew brighter.


    For a moment, William stared at her in awe.


    Then she landed, and the light in her eyes faded. Stretching, she walked up to him. "Oh, hey, Will."


    "My name is William," said William. "Not Will."


    "Whatever," she said, "anyway, what have you been up to?"


    "I just woke up," said William. "Felix is cooking a rabbit."


    "Yeah, I know," she said. "I don''t eat meat, though."


    "Why not?" asked William.


    "I dunno, my mom always had me not eat meat," said Kiyora. "So, I don''t."


    "All right," said William, "what were you doing out here?"


    "Communing with the trees of this place, obviously," said Kiyora, "everyone, where I''m from, can do it. I''ve never been this far north, so I figured I''d get to know them."


    "Yes, well," said William. "there are dangerous things out here, and we should get back to camp."


    "Why so I can watch you eat some poor innocent animal?" asked Kiyora.


    "As opposed to you eating some poor innocent plant?" countered William.


    "Don''t be silly," said Kiyora. "Plants aren''t sentient."


    William stared at her. The trees loomed reproachfully, and Kiyora shifted awkwardly.


    "That was a joke," said Kiyora.


    "It wasn''t funny," said William. "Now come on, it''s dangerous."


    They made their way back to camp and found Felix still cooking the meat. It looked nearly done. William gave Kiyora some of his rations, and then they sat down to eat. Who knew how long they had been eating bland rations? William didn''t, but he knew the rabbit tasted heavenly. Between the three of them {Massacre ate what they couldn''t.} It was soon polished off.


    With that done, they doused the fire and prepared to set out. William felt far better than he had the previous day, and Felix looked far better. As long as Massacre could catch the animals as she had, they did not need to fear to starve.


    "Some of the trees over this stream are very unfriendly," said Kiyora. "They don''t like us because there have been woodsmen who cut them down. We''re very near the eaves of Seathorius'' northern border now."


    "Good," said William, "it will be good to see my father again."


    "And your mother," said Felix. "You know she probably set course for Artarq straight after you."


    "Yes, Felix, thank you," said William. "I was trying to forget about that."


    They walked along the stream someway until they found some stepping stones. They then began to cross. As William led them over it, he heard a splash and halted. Looking up, he saw a glint of silver out of the corner of his eye. His hand went to his sword as he scanned the surface of the water.


    "Come on, Will," said Kiyora, "keep moving."


    "My name is William," he said, but he complied.


    He made it to the other side, and then Kiyora and Felix came. Then, as Massacre was setting her forepaws on the other side of the bank, there was a flash of silver. Out of the water emerged a giant serpent that wrapped its coils around Massacre. The beast pulled her down into the water.


    The chimera grappled with the serpent, tearing at it with her claws. Yet before she could breathe fire, she was dragged beneath the water. William could see her struggling as she was pulled downstream. Racing alongside the water, he drew his sword. Yet he couldn''t reach.


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    "What do we do?" asked Kiyora.


    "Get one of the trees to pull them out!" said Felix. "The trees by the stream!"


    "Right," said Kiyora before setting their hand on a tree.


    The roots on the edge of the water reached out and snagged the serpent around the neck. Dragged into the sunlight, it struggled viciously, while Massacre gasped for air. The chimera bashed the serpent repeatedly. She great marks in its flesh and unleashing a torrent of flame at it. The creature reeled and let Massacre go. The chimera scrambled back onto dry land, before shaking to get the water off her. It walked off, looking at William reproachfully.


    "What did I do?" asked William.


    "You stopped to look around," said Felix. "If you hadn''t done that, we would have crossed without any problems."


    "Oh," said William, looking down at his feet. Caution could backfire.


    They pressed on for some time and left the water behind them. The day wore on, and it became steadily hotter as they went on. The sun blazed down, even through the leaves, and the air became musty and humid. Sweat dripped down their brows as they went further and further. William kept on hoping they would come out into the open plains of Artarq. Yet this hope was not to be satisfied for this day or the next. It became more and more humid. The ground became wet and marshy. The further they went, the more flies and mosquitoes harassed them. Massacre''s tail was continually flicking to swat them.


    "Couldn''t you have led us by a different path?" asked William, swatting at a cloud of flies.


    "It''s all like this," muttered Kiyora. "Everything from here to Artarq. Nice view, but not so nice to walk through."


    "How can you even know that if you haven''t been this far north before?" asked William.


    "The trees told me, silly," said Kiyora.


    William should have realized that to begin with. He looked around and realized that it was a beautiful view. If he had been walking past this are on the firm ground, he would have seen a scenic lake with many lily pads. A place where red flowers bloomed, and the sun shone merrily. Seeing and doing were two entirely different things.


    Then quite abruptly, too abruptly, the ground became firm again. They stumbled into a field of beautiful white and red flowers. Every so often, there were hillocks spaced throughout the ground. There was a delightful aroma in the air. Though William desired to walk through them, a voice in his mind warned him not to go through.


    "It''s beautiful..." said Kiyora, breathlessly.


    "I think we should go around," said William.


    "You worry too much," said Kiyora, walking forward while Massacre followed. The chimera was sniffing at the air. "This place is wonderful, its... the sensation, it..."


    "Get back, Kiyora!" cried Felix.


    She turned around, eyes drooping. "What''s wrong?"


    "This place..." said Felix, "look there..." He pointed.


    William followed his gaze and saw jutting out of one of the hillocks a skeletal hand. Yet Kiyora''s eyes were unfocused, and a bleary smile was on her face. "I don''t see anything..." she said. "The flowers here are so nice..."


    And she wandered forward. Massacre let out a tired yowl and lay down in the flowers. The aroma beset William, and he found himself fighting to stay alert. He felt as if nothing could harm him. He also felt exhausted. This place was safe; he should lie down...


    He shook his head and slapped Felix across the face.


    "What the hell!" roared Felix.


    "Stay alert," said William, "do you still have that rope that the Nakmar gave us?"


    "Yes," said Felix.


    "Good," said William, "get it out and then wait out there beyond the flowers. I''m going to tie it around my waist, and you are going to yank at me while I go get them to keep them alert."


    "All right," said Felix, drawing out the rope.


    William took the rope and tied it around his waist. Then he rushed after Kiyora, who was wandering, almost skipping with a sort of vapid joy. He would have gone after Massacre. Yet he judged that the chimera could be awakened after he stopped Kiyora from getting out of range.


    Yet in truth, what was the harm in her wandering off? This place was safe, safe, and far away from any harm. William found his eyes drooping and tried to force them open. Then there was an impact on his chest, and he was pulled to alertness.


    Pollen was rising around them, and a greenish mist was falling to surround them. The sounds of birds and other creatures became strange to his ears. The sensation of his feet against the ground hurt, and he found that every step became heavier. He forced his way forward.


    He saw a vague shadow wandering and made for her. He found Kiyora kneeling on the ground, a vapid smile on her face, her eyes unfocused. She was laughing. William gripped her by the shoulder and pulled her up.


    "Kiyora, come on!" he said. "This place is evil!"


    "Evil?" she asked. "Such a strange word. Evil..." she burst out into giggles. "evil, evil, evil-"


    William grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to drag her away. "Hey, let go of me!"


    "Come to your senses!" he roared. "Now come on! We''re leaving!"


    "No!" she screamed. "I don''t want to leave! This place is beautiful, leave me here!" And she began to struggle in his grip.


    William gripped her and pulled her from her feet, carrying her over one shoulder. She kicked at him, clawing at his arms and beating him. It hurt. It hurt a lot. But there was no time to snap her out of this revelry, especially with Massacre still to free. Following the rope out of the mist, he came to where Felix was holding the line and set Kiyora down.


    At once, she scrambled up and tried to rush into the flowers again. William had to restrain her physically. "Let me go! Let me go, you jerk!"


    "Don''t you see what''s happening?!" roared William. "This place is possessing you!"


    "I don''t care!" she roared. "It''s beautiful!"


    Felix dropped the rope, drew his sword, and slammed Kiyora over the back of the head with the flat of his blade. She fell senseless to the ground, and William put her down. He stared at Felix.


    "What were you thinking?" he said. "You could have hurt her!"


    "You could just heal her later," said Felix as he picked up the rope. "Now go find Massacre! Quick!"


    William nodded, drew his sword, and set off in the direction he had seen Massacre lie down in. He made his way forward for a time, feeling at ease with the world around him. Kiyora was right; this place was beautiful, and his feet were sore. He ought to sit down and rest; he was sure Massacre could take care of-


    Ow. The rope was jerked, and the pain forced him into clarity. He looked around and could see no sign of Massacre ¡ª only a hillock covered in flowers. A hillock that had not been there before.


    "Oh no," he said.


    He rushed to the hillock, slid his blade underneath the flowers, and pulled upwards. The blade tore the vines with a hiss, and green liquid spilled from them. What was revealed beneath was a lion''s shoulder, with many small wounds on it. The vines that fell on the ground spasmed and their lower halves were covered in bloody thorns.


    William was sure of his hesitation now. He began to cut away at the vines wherever he found them. Yet they seemed to regrow at a horrible rate. Several times, they grasped at his boots, and he had to cut them away. By the time he was done with that, the vines had begun to regrow over Massacre.


    Sometimes, as he cut away the vines, they would slash at him with their death throes. Soon, his arms and face were covered in cuts. And even as he made progress, he saw more and more wounds on Massacre''s body. The goat head was uncovered, and then the dragonhead. Then the lion.


    Yet he soon had to go to cut away at the vines growing over Massacre''s body. He managed to free one of the legs, then another, and another. Then Massacre''s tail. Setting a hand on Massacre''s shoulder he channeled his healing magic through. The chimera groaned as its wounds closed. William then healed himself, and then he realized his problem.


    Massacre was still sleeping, and the vines were trying to reclaim her. He found his head going fuzzy from working, and he realized he only had a little while. Sheathing his sword, he shook Massacre.


    "Massacre," he said, "Massacre, you have to wake up!"


    Massacre made a noise and shifted but did not otherwise respond. William hauled on her mane, and slowly, she opened her eyes. Massacre yawned and then felt the thorns on her. Arising, it shook them off and roared. Her dragon had unleashed a torrent of flame onto the flowers, which burned away around them. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    There was horrific screeching all around them. A raging inferno spread into the distance. The mist evaporated. The pollen was burned away with a display of smoke and fire, which choked William and brought water to his eyes.


    Finally, they stood over a barren field of ashes. And it was covered in hundreds of bones ¡ª everything from dwarves to birds, to satyrs and other animals. They all lay dead throughout the area. William stared at them in horror, wondering just how many had been killed in this place.


    Massacre yawned. She brushed against William with enough force to send him falling to the ground. Then she loped off towards Felix. William followed her and untied the rope around him. Kiyora was still resting. Felix looked none the worse for wear.


    "Is it over?" asked Felix.


    "Yes," said William. "I would say so."


    Appearances could be deceiving. But he''d already known that.

 Chapter Seventeen: Telling Tales

    A few minutes passed, during which they rested. Then Kiyora''s eyes fluttered open, and she stood slowly, rubbing her head. For a moment, William was afraid she would collapse, but she made it to her feet. She looked at him blearily, eyes adjusting to the light coming through the trees."Ugh..." she groaned, "Why do I feel like I was hit over the head with a sword?""Because I hit you over the head with my sword," said Felix."Why?!" asked Kiyora."You were under the flower''s spell," said William. "We couldn''t restrain you and rescue Massacre at once.""What spell? What flowers?" she asked. "Everything is a blur. I remember entering a clearing or something..." She rubbed her forehead. "Didn''t your mother ever teach you not to hit girls?""Why would I not hit girls?" asked Felix. "They are just as capable as males and therefore warrant no special treatment.""That''s not the point," said Kiyora. "It''s about chivalry.""If I hadn''t knocked you out, Massacre or you might very well have been dead," said Felix. "I''m not apologizing.""You know, you''re a real jerk," said Kiyora.William touched her shoulder and poured a holy power to heal her bruises. Then he let go and looked to the barren, wasted clearing left from Massacre''s flames. He sighed."We have no time," said William. "We should move on now.""What is it with you and forced marches?" asked Kiyora. "Couldn''t we take it easy for once?""We can ''take it easy," said William. "When we have reached Artarq. This place is far more dangerous than I thought, and I want out.""Considering what we''ve been through until now," mused Felix, "that is saying something."So off they went, leaving the blackened clearing behind. They continued on their way northwards. Or at least William assumed they were going north. Kiyora seemed hazy about the exact details of where they were going. Even so, they made good time and passed through the woods rapidly.The trees around them became smaller and shorter. Their roots no longer delved as deep, and their leaves changed. The ground became less marshy. The grass beneath their feet became steadily longer. Before long, its color turned yellow. William had heard that the grass in Artarq was yellow, and he took this as a sign that they were drawing near.Though their supplies began to run short, Massacre caught animals for them. And as they went onwards, William found his spirits starting to take flight. It was only a little further now, just a little while before they reached Artarq.Excitement grew within him. He found himself more and more impatient for the day of his homecoming. Every moment seemed to stretch into eternity as they got closer and closer. The air became drier and hotter. The trees grew still smaller.Then, just as he thought he could no longer bear it, they came out of the trees and into sight of the border forts. They all looked very much like Baltoth''s Retribution. Each one had the same towering spires and white walls. But they were smaller and in all ways less great. Nor did they seem terrible beneath the surface. Their walls were cracked and damaged in several places. And on one of them, there were signs that it had been broken open. Above the walls, the banner of Carn Gable stood, a golden cobra poised to strike upon a red background.Then William realized what he had achieved."Yes!" he roared skyward. "I swore I would make my way across Seathorius on foot and find Artarq by my power, and I have done it!" He laughed. "Let us see Mother find fault in that!""She will," said Felix."Are you okay?" asked Kiyora."Yes, I''m fine," said William. "I''m reveling in my achievement.""Don''t you mean our achievement?" asked Kiyora."Right, yes, of course," said William, eager to be on their way. "When we reach Artarq, I''ll try to convince my father to shelter you if you''d like. I mean... unless you intend to go back to Seathorius.""Nah," said Kiyora, "I''m tired of that dream. I''d like to see this Artarq place for myself.""Good," said William, "as soon as I get a chance, I''ll..." He tried to think of something to say. "I''ll see about erecting a shrine to you.""Oh, that''s nice," said Kiyora. "Can we move?"William was crushed, though he tried not to show it. He led them towards the nearest border fort, noting that the sun was setting. It would be only a matter of time before darkness fell. Looking to the east, he saw in the distance Savior''s Run coming out of the woods. It formed the border between Artarq and Calisha."So that city in the distance," said Kiyora, "is that Artarq?""No," said William, "that is Arsheen, the Capital of Artarq. Everything around us is the province of Artarq. You don''t think they would name the province the same thing as the capital, do you?""I suppose it would be somewhat lazy," said Kiyora. "So, are we taking shelter in one of the forts? Won''t they turn us away?""No," said William. "My father has some men commanding each fort. They should recognize Felix and me." The pain buzzed beneath the surface of his wound, and he winced."If you say so," said Kiyora.Massacre yawned, looking tired. William looked to the chimera with sudden concern. She had been very helpful to them, but how would she handle being around other people?"Massacre," he said, "when we get to civilization, you can''t eat anyone, understand."Massacre gave him a look. William didn''t quite know what to say to it. "Look, I''m serious. People might be scared of you, and I need you not to give them a reason to be scared. Just... be on your best behavior, okay.""Bah," said Massacre''s goat head.When, at last, they came to the doors of one of the forts, William reflected that he was used to seeing the shape of a skull. It had always loomed over him when he came to castle gates. Nevertheless, these gates were strange to him.Then, someone let out a call."Who are you? Stay where you are!" came a call.William looked up to see a lookout standing atop the gatehouse, clad in the black armor of Carn Gable. He could not see the lookout''s face beneath his helm. "I am William Gabriel, Son of Duke Vanion Gabriel. I have traveled through many great and terrible adventures to come to Artarq to see my father."My companions are my servant Felix and the mortal avatar of the Dreaming Goddess." He paused. "Her name is Kiyora. Last of all, there is a Massacre the Chimera. I desire to seek shelter for the night."The lookout stared, then removed his helm as though unsure what he saw. "I don''t... I can''t... you tamed a chimera?""No," said William. "Merely took her as one of my companions.""...Hold a moment while I open the door, William. I was not ready for today." Then he disappeared off the walls.For a few moments, they waited, and then the doors swung open. The lookout approached. Then William saw the crimson plume over his black armor. He was the commander. William went to meet him. As they neared each other, the commander drew off his helm to reveal brown hair and delicate features."Sarris," said William, "Father has put you in charge of this fort.""Yes," said Sarris. "Things have changed since I left Carn Gable. We''ve been deadly afraid Baltoth might launch an invasion into Artarq. There were rumors that he had found allies in Seathorius." He paused. "What happened to your face?""If the time we''ve had is any indication, I doubt any army could make it through," muttered William. "Can we eat? We''ve been living off rations and rabbits for weeks, and the story is too long to tell out here anyway. As for my face, I don''t know. I haven''t had a mirror.""Of course," said Sarris. "We were just about to eat our meal. It is my custom to spend the late hours watching Seathorius for your coming.""What about Massacre?" asked Kiyora, motioning to the chimera."I... uh..." Sarris paused. "I suppose I could find meat and food for, erm... goats?"Massacre was staring at Sarris, licking her chops. William turned to her. "Massacre, why don''t you wait out here? They''ll have something sent for you to eat soon enough."He led them into the gates and to the keep. They were led into the great hall, where plates were being set down even now. They entered the keep and entered a large rectangular room with many long tables. Sitting at them were many men who were speaking with one another.As they entered, all eyes turned to Sarris."Comrades," said Sarris, "we have today as our guest the son of our Duke Vanion and his companions. So there will be an extra ale ration for everyone and double portions!"Cheers came from the men. Kiyora, William, and Felix were all seated at the empty side of one table, and the food was set before them. But, even so, William felt uneasy, for something that Sarris had said stuck in his mind."You were expecting us?" asked William."Yes," said Sarris, "a ship arrived from Carn Gable under Captain Hrungeld. He brought a message from Raynald De Chevlon. He said that you had fallen overboard during an attack by satyrs. Raynald and Lady Rusara caught sight of a signal fire from the shores of Seathorius and followed it."When they landed, however, they found only your footsteps and the footsteps of satyrs. They went deeper to find you and sent Captain Hrungeld a message to Arsheen.""How could they hope to rescue you from an entire army of satyrs?" asked Kiyora as plates were set before. "Oh, can I have water instead of ale? I''m underaged."William had no idea what she meant by being underaged. "Rusara is a powerful sorceress, and Raynald, the greatest swordsman in Harlenor." That was what he said. "Even if they faced a thousand satyrs, I would expect them to emerge victoriously.""Well, they would make a fight of it," said Sarris. "Shortly after Duke Vanion got the message, Lady Azgora demanded to know where you were. She was furious when she arrived and became even angrier when she learned you weren''t there."She wanted to take the garrison and start scouring Seathorius for you. However, Duke Vanion refused to do so.""Good," said William. "Seathorius would have claimed many lives and left Artarq defenseless against the Calishans.""Well, Azgora was not happy at all," said Sarris, sipping a cup of ale. "We''ve all been given standing orders to watch for you.""Can we change the subject, please?" asked William. "I''d rather not discuss this.""Well, I should like to hear just what you have been doing all this time," said Sarris. "From the sounds of things, you''ve had one or two adventures.""Enough for a lifetime," said William. "It started when the satyrs attacked the ship..."William and Felix both described their adventures once again in full. William thought he told it better than last time. This time, there were many things that Felix had not been there for. He took great delight in describing the chase through Baltoth''s Retribution. It had been terrifying at the time, but now that it was over, William felt excited to relate to it. But, of course, he left out his connection to Melchous. He did not want the ordinary soldiers to know that yet.He felt very proud of the events as they played out, and now he saw what Raynald saw in all these adventures. Felix, as before, managed to out-describe him by a great deal. But he hadn''t seen the more exciting parts of the conflict with the demoness. His story was about dodging an eldritch horror in a darkening wood, and he was very descriptive. Several people shuddered at his tales.As time passed, the tale became more grand and harrowing. He noted the soldier''s expressions. Their gaze was doubtful or condescendingly amused. Several were glaring at Kiyora."This elf is supposed to be a goddess?" scoffed one as the tale wound down."Be silent, Acon," said Sarris. "You will show respect to our guests."They didn''t believe him. William could tell by the way some of them spoke. Anger welled in his heart. "If you wish to call me a liar, you may.""It is not that," said Sarris, "it seems incredible that you could have seen all these things. On the contrary, you may have... exaggerated what was doubtless a dangerous journey."William drew out his sword. "The Nakmar Dwarves forged this blade. Felix didn''t even have a sword before. If you doubt my story, you may see if you can find one of similar make.""Yes, but-"William drew the harp out and set it on the table. "And this is the harp I took from the chimera''s lair.""And I have the gold," said Felix, drawing out a jeweled silver necklace and several coins to set down."And as for the chimera itself," said William, "any of you may go outside to see it! That proves at least half of my story; need you to doubt the other half?!"That got the point across well enough. Several murmurs went through them, and several men went outside to look for Massacre. Others came to gaze at the sword, which William offered them to look at freely. It was passed hand to hand, and everyone marveled at its quality. As they did so, William looked at Felix."Felix, go outside and spend some time with Massacre," he said. "I don''t want anything unfortunate to happen.""Yes sir," said Felix, arising and following after them.Silence fell over them. The sword came back to William, and he sheathed it. Then, just for effect, William played the harp, sending the music throughout the hall. The soldiers looked on in wonder, and he stopped."Now, would anyone else care to question our deeds?" asked William."Very well," said Sarris, "you have made your point. Forgive us, but we were expecting half-starved castaways, not bold warriors.""Neither was I," admitted William."Something is bothering me," said Kiyora. "I thought military organizations had soldiers eat in a different hall from officers.""In Antion and some other Kingdoms, that might be so," admitted Sarris. "However, we are Haldrenians. All our warrior bands, or garrisons, eat in the same hall.""The tradition originates from the days before King Anoa II brought us into the fold," said William. "You see, our chieftains served Anoa the Bright but went their way after the elves were defeated. They were ruled by a great King, Gavern the Dire, and he married the sister of Anoa II."After Anoa II died with no heirs, his sister became King. She and Gunthred ruled over Harlenor, and her son, Anoa III, became King after her.""King?" asked Kiyora. "Wouldn''t she be Queen?""No," said William. "Anoa the Bright refused to differentiate the position by gender. Queens came into play after the breaking of Harlenor United. He commanded that women fight alongside men in battle. And he saw no reason they should be treated differently.""I see you''ve been studying your history as always," noted Sarris in amusement."I try," said William before feeling very tired. "Forgive me, but I''d like to retire. I haven''t slept in a proper bed in weeks.""Of course," said Sarris. "I''ll have arrangements made for you at once. And also for your chimera, though... I''m not sure how to make arrangements for a chimera.""Massacre mostly eats grass, actually," said William. "And various plants. She''s terrible when angry, but I don''t think she needs meat to survive.""That is very reassuring," admitted Sarris.Rooms were set aside for them, and Felix was recalled. As they were led to them, Kiyora looked at William strangely. William tried to ignore her looks and then snapped."All right, what is it?" he asked."Nothing," she said. "You seem very different from how you were when I first met you.""Brilliant deduction," said Felix."You don''t have to snark at her, Felix; I can speak for myself," said William. "Yes, yes, I am different. I used to think that adventures were horrifying, terrible, and exhausting. Something that one wanted to be over as quickly as possible. Now...""They are," said Felix."Well, yes, they are," said William. "But the glory gained by partaking in them? The honor one achieves through such horrors is more than worth the risk."When this began, I thought I''d never want to leave Carn Gable again after returning. Now... now I wonder if I want to go back.""You''re doing it backward!" snapped Kiyora in sudden frustration. "You''re supposed to grow up dreaming of fantastic and glorious adventures. Then have your hopes abruptly dashed and come out wiser! Instead, you''ve declared you hope to see more of them!"This isn''t how it''s supposed to go.""If adventures were all bad, I doubt people would seek them out." shot back William. "Anyway, there is a war with Calisha on the horizon. Soon enough, Baltoth will seek to avenge his previous humiliation. Then, the armies of the greatest empire the world has ever known will descend on Artarq."At that time, my father will need every sword he can get. Including mine.""Stop sounding so excited!" said Kiyora."But I am excited," said William, deciding to annoy her. "Adventures are glorious things. The suffering one experiences pales in comparison to the""Just stop, okay? I''m sorry I asked," muttered Kiyora.When he reached his room, William was pleased to find a mirror within it. Looking at it, he saw his face. Over one of his eyes was a long, jagged scar. The demoness'' claw had raked along from a little over his left brow to his left cheek. He''d narrowing avoided losing his eye. It hurt, of course. Still, at least it was proof of his achievement. And he was a bit too tired to care about all that.He had never slept more soundly than that night. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter Eighteen: Reascension

    The following morning, William stood on the fort''s walls, thinking to himself. He thought about many things: the beginning of his journey, the satyrs, the meeting of Massacre. Then there was the demoness, and he wondered what had happened to her.


    She had been a worthy opponent.


    The wind blew through his hair, cooling him in the day''s heat. He reflected that things did not look nearly as rosy as last night. A vast forest of trees had come out of Seathorius and surrounded the fort on every side. They were cut off from the rest of Artarq. The trees swayed in the wind, and their movements seemed laced with threat. "What in Elranor''s name happened?" asked Sarris. "Why would the forest move?"


    "Seathorius shifts all the time," said William. "We''ve had a lot of experience with it."


    "Yes," said Sarris, "but I thought such shifts were limited within the borders. How could the whole forest''s eaves have moved overnight?"


    "These trees aren''t from the eaves," said William. "They are far too tall and twisted. I saw these further south, in Melchious'' domain."


    "Do you believe these trees have something to do with the satyrs?" asked Sarris.


    "They might," said William. "And I have an idea of how we might find out." He looked to Kiyora. "Kiyora, could you make contact with these trees."


    "Sure," she said, "open the gates and let me walk up to one."


    "I... don''t think that is wise, Your Grace," said Sarris, and then he paused and looked to William. "Is ''Your Grace'' the proper way to refer to a deity?"


    "Just call me Kiyora," said Kiyora. "There isn''t any other word that describes me. But why can''t I approach them?"


    "Look at those trees, Kiyora," said William. "Do they look friendly?"


    "Well, they seem to have claw-like branches," said Kiyora, "and they seem threatening. But you shouldn''t judge a person by their appearance. Same for trees."


    "If they were friendly, I doubt they should have surrounded us like this. None of us should go out there until we know a good deal more," said Sarris. "I''ve already sent word to Arsheen in any case."


    "How could you get a message to the capital?" asked William. "Those trees move. The messenger might never get there."


    "Duke Vanion foresaw such a possibility," said Sarris. "Or at least that we might be surrounded. Every fort has a crystal ball that allows one to contact the Duke. A new form of communication, he had Rusara design."


    "I know," said William. "It was designed from an artifact he brought back from his journeys to other worlds. Although Rusara and Raynald never speak of it, I was never allowed to touch the one in Carn Gable."


    "I expect his army is on its way, whatever the means," said Sarris.


    "We''ll be better off with a team of loggers than an army," said William. "Swords aren''t good for much against trees. Unless they''re magical, I suppose."


    "Oh, come on, we can''t just cut them down. Not without knowing what they are doing here," said Kiyora. "Who knows? They might have a good reason for being here."


    "They might have had a good reason for helping the satyrs catch Felix and me," said William. "I find neither likely. I don''t mean to give them the benefit of the doubt."


    "Let me talk to them," said Kiyora. "Oh sure," said Felix, "we''ll set up a white flag of parley, and I''m sure we can speak with their general."


    "Felix is right," said William. "Can''t you talk to them from here?"


    Kiyora blinked. "I have no idea. I couldn''t do it when I first came to Seathorius, but I''m a lot more powerful than I was then."


    "Then, by all means, attempt it," said Sarris. "The sooner we get these things back to Seathorius, the better."


    "They''re not things," said Kiyora. "They''re trees."


    "Very well," said Sarris, "the sooner the trees leave, the better. Is that acceptable?"


    "Very much," said Kiyora. Then she set both hands on the battlements and closed her eyes. For a long moment, silence fell over the wall. Winds whipped through her cloak, sending it flowing around her. William had told her she should wear something heavier, but she had yet to listen. Instead, a hazy glow surrounded her. It continued like that for a minute. Then, her expression became strained. She began to shake, and sweat dripped down her brow. Then she let go of the wall and backed away with a cry. William moved forward and hardly caught her before she fell off the wall.


    Kiyora got back on her feet and gasped. "They hate me. I''ve been coming into Seathorius for years and years, and I''ve never met a tree that hates me."


    "Well, obviously," said Felix.


    "What?" said Kiyora.


    "You appear to people who need your help," said Felix. "Or people who worship you. Maybe you haven''t had any experience with trees that don''t like you. No one likes to dream up nightmares, after all."


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    "Maybe," said Kiyora, looking hurt. "What do they want?" asked William.


    "Revenge," said Kiyora, "I mean... from when you and Felix escaped. The fire you started spread throughout them and hurt a lot of them. And those flowers Massacre destroyed..."


    "Yes?" asked William. "What of them?"


    "Apparently, those flowers were their allies," said Kiyora. "These things want us all dead. And they''re not alone."


    "What do you mean?" asked William. "Something else is coming." said Kiyora, "Something worse." The dark trees began to shift as if on cue, making a path for a creature that walked from out amongst them. Looking at it made William scream in horror as he averted his eyes.


    Men on the wall cast themselves to the floor and covered their faces while weeping. The sunlight itself seemed sinister. The clouds looked as though they might devour them whole.


    "Stand tall, all of you!" roared Sarris, though his voice was strained. "Man, your posts!"


    William knew he must look at what was coming to defend against it. He knew it. Every fiber of his being demanded, he looks away. He couldn''t gaze at it! It was too horrible! Then something, something very dark within him, demanded he look. And that wasn''t very pleasant in itself.


    Torn between them, he felt yet another presence and could turn his head back with it. However, to open his eyes... If he opened his eyes, he would see it. There would be no turning back. His fear and terror gripped him, and he was held. Then, slowly, with every bit of willpower, he opened his eyes and saw that which was approaching them.


    Laughing Wraith was approaching them. And on either side of him, many satyrs were moving toward the walls, eyes wild with terror. They screamed as much in horror at their master''s call. Some fell upon their faces screaming, but these were forced onward, clawing at the dirt. They bore ladders around them. Only sheer terror prevented them from having reached the wall already.


    "Get up!" cried William. "All of you get up! The satyrs are coming!" Sarris was working to pull his men up, and some readied themselves. Yet more is needed. The satyrs would be here soon, and the wall would be overrun. Unless he did something... Elranor. The power of Elranor. He looked at Felix. "Felix, go get my harp! Do it now!" sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Felix nodded and rushed off. William knew that even if he could use the harp''s powers to fight off this fear, it would be too little too late. He looked to Kiyora. "Kiyora, you''ve got to do something. The men are going to all die if you don''t."


    "Do what?" she asked, shuddering.


    "You are a goddess in human form," said William. "Bolster their wills with your own. Summon an army of friendly trees! Anything!" The satyrs had reached the walls and were beginning to hoist ladders up.


    "Now!" said William.


    "Yeah, yeah, okay..." said Kiyora. She raised a hand and focused. There was a pulse around her. William felt her mind in his, driving him to stand his ground. To pay no attention to a mere nightmare. He was utterly confident all of a sudden. And he was not alone.


    The soldiers across the wall arose and drew their weapons. And it was not a moment too soon, for the first of the satyrs was streaming onto the wall. The creatures bounded over the parapets and attacked, only to be cut down. A mass melee began. A ladder was cast off the wall.


    Sarris speared a satyr through the heart before knocking another from the wall. A satyr leaped and stabbed a man through the throat, only to be run through from behind. Many of the satyrs were already dead. Yet many more were coming onto the wall, and still, more were streaming out of the trees.


    The trees. They were drawing nearer. Like a noose, the circle of trees was becoming tighter. Already, they were very near the walls, and Laughing Wraith was coming nearer. And as he drew nearer, William felt his hopes begin to wane. Despair welled in his heart as he watched men die around him.


    Men who were dying because he had led these creatures here. Kiyora was shaking visibly, trying to keep the horror at bay. Suddenly, she collapsed to her knees. The horror and fear hit William like a sledgehammer and everyone else. Absolute terror consumed satyrs and humans alike. The fighting halted as both sides fell, screaming to the ground. And the trees reached the walls.


    The day became pale, all wind ceased, and the walls shuddered as the trees began to tear and drag at the stonework. It splintered and broke. Both sides were driven from the wall by the branches. And then Laughing Wraith was there. He was on the wall near William. And he was reaching for Kiyora''s throat. Kiyora staggered back, terrified and unable to move.


    William drew his sword and ran forward. It was the most foolish thing he''d ever done. But he lowered his sword on what he thought was Laughing Wraith''s wrist. He hit the arm, and there was a scream that tore at his very soul. The blade in his hand shattered into pieces, and a mark was left on the thing. William fell backward from the force and looked up. Laughing Wraith turned on him.


    He staggered back as the creature walked toward him, but not quickly enough. Then Massacre was there. She bore Laughing Wraith down and tore at the thing with her claws. Laughing Wraith did not seem to react. Though great chunks of its body were torn off, it was like chunks of wood being shaved by a model. Finally, his hands came up and gripped Massacre by the throat. Her dragon head poured fire upon Laughing Wraith, yet it had no effect.


    But then, there was a snap, and Massacre''s lion head fell limp. The chimera staggered back, roaring in pain with the lion head lolling bonelessly.


    "Massacre!" said Kiyora, running to the chimera''s side. Laughing Wraith began to stand, and William knew that if something were not done, all of them would die. So he looked around for a weapon to defend them, casting aside his broken sword.


    "William!" cried Felix.


    William looked up and saw Felix holding his harp. His friend threw the harp through the air, and William caught it. Laughing Wraith surged toward Kiyora, and William ran his hands across the strings. Laughing Wraith flinched and took a step back, and William began to play the harp with renewed vigor. He played it, pouring every ounce of his heart, soul, and talent into the harp, and Wraith was driven back. William realized that the harp was glowing. It was glowing with the power of Elranor, and his enemy could do nothing before it but cower. Then Wraith motioned to the trees which had been tearing into the wall.


    They turned their attention to William. The harp did not affect them, and their tendrils reached out for them. There was a burst of green flame, and dozens of the trees were consumed. They burned to ashes in moments, and he could hear them screaming and screaming this entire time.


    Yet William realized the power of Elranor, no, his power, was being spent. Playing the harp was becoming challenging, and the music had less effect as he played. His scar burst, and he felt blood dripping down his face, covering his eye. Laughing Wraith was advancing, while Kiyora was hugging Massacre and crying. What was she doing?


    "Run, Kiyora!" roared William. "Get out of here!"


    Then Kiyora stopped and arose before turning on Wraith. There was a flash of light from her. Wraith let out a wordless scream as its power and Kiyora''s clashed. It held in place for a moment, and then the music of Elranor made the difference. Wraith was consumed. William looked around at the battlefield. Below, the satyrs and the defenders were lying on the ground, no longer fighting. The trees were burning. Wherever he looked, there was a raging inferno of green flame, and the smoke of it was rising high into the air.


    Odd. It looked like one of Rusara''s spells.


    He became overtaken by weariness and fell backward. Distantly, he was aware that someone was calling his name. Yet it hardly mattered. Nothing mattered.

 Chapter Nineteen: An Ending

    His eye hurt. It hurt a lot.


    William sat up in his bed with a start, bringing his hand to his left eye. He could still see fine; there was no more blood. But the skin over it had a long, rough patch, so the scar must have healed. And it hurt. Oh, and everything else hurt, too.


    He looked around. He was lying in a luxurious bedroom in a bed of silk. There was the banner of Carn Gable on the wall and a shield and sword on the walls. Throwing the covers off of him, he made his way blearily for a mirror he saw on the far wall.


    Coming before it, he saw something he didn''t like at all. His face remained marred. He''d heard of warriors baring their scars with pride, but...


    There had to be a way to heal this. He made for the door. It opened as he reached it and was hit in the face.


    He hit the ground. "Ow."


    "Oh, William, I''m sorry," said Rusara''s voice. "I didn''t think you were awake yet."


    "I noticed," said William as he stood. "Why do I hurt all over?"


    "You were in direct contact with horror from the darkest aspects of the mind, William," said Rusara. "You are lucky to have your body and mind intact."


    "I don''t feel lucky," admitted William. "It has been one adventure after another recently. I''ll be glad to get some rest at last."


    "Well, I expect you may get plenty of that," said Rusara. "Your mother, of course, wanted to take you back to Carn Gable at once. But I convinced Vanion to keep you here until you awoke."


    "What happened to my eye?" asked William.


    "I..." Rusara sighed. "You took a wound that couldn''t be healed by any magic we possessed. I did what I could, but... it wasn''t enough. You''ll have a scar until we find a better healer."


    "So forever then," said William.


    "More or less," admitted Rusara. "I''m sorry."


    "Don''t be," said William. "It wasn''t your fault."


    "Yes, it was!" said Rusara. "I... we''re the ones who pressured you into coming on this trip in the first place! We told ourselves it was for your benefit, but it was just to spite your mother and-"


    William sighed. "It was for the best. Believe it or not, I''m glad I went on that adventure. I mean, there are many bits I could have done without, but..." He paused. "Nevermind. Where are Kiyora and Felix?"


    "Felix is running some errands for Vanion," said Rusara. "As for the Dreaming Goddess, she is gone. After Laughing Wraith was defeated, she ascended once again."


    "When did you get here anyway?" asked William, "I know your flame destroyed the trees. But how did you get here?"


    "Well, that is a bit of a long story," admitted Rusara. "As soon as Raynald and I learned you''d gone overboard, I contacted a sea spirit to tell us your location. So Raynald and I went ashore and tracked you and Felix all through Seathorius.


    "Unfortunately, because you had the help of a goddess, you were moving a lot faster than we were. No matter how quickly we went, you were always one step ahead. Eventually, we found the border forts under attack by trees.


    "I expect you already know the rest."


    "Yes," said William. "What happened to the satyrs? And the trees?"


    "Well, the trees by the wall were burned to ashes. The ones that weren''t fled" said Rusara. "I was in a particularly foul temper after going through all those swamps. As for the satyrs, after Wraith was defeated, they were taken captive.


    "It seems that Laughing Wraith forced them to attack the fort against their will." Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What is Laughing Wraith?" asked William. "I read the journals, but he can''t be a dreamer. He is nothing like Kiyora."


    "You are nothing like Raynald," noted Rusara. "And yet, both of you are human. I wish I had an answer to that question, William. It would make the business of killing him much easier. But, unfortunately, I don''t, and the best I can guess is that he is a nightmare."


    "What did you do with the satyrs?" asked William.


    "We made them swear never to attack us again and sent them on their way," said Rusara. "They were in a pitiful state when we captured them. Some were even begging for death." She paused and gave him a look.


    "What?" said William.


    "You realize that if you had simply stayed with the dwarves, none of this would have happened, don''t you?" asked Rusara. "At that point, we were only a day behind you."


    "I felt I had to do it," said William.


    "Well, the next time you feel that way, don''t," said Rusara. "It was a great deal of trouble for Raynald and me, and you might have been-"


    "Well done, William!" said Raynald, walking through the door and clapping him on the back.


    "Raynald?" asked William.


    "You choose the most dangerous course of action. And when you had the opportunity to remain safe and wait for rescue, too," said Raynald. "I''ll admit I had my doubts about you, but let me tell you I''ll make a great warrior of you yet."


    "Thank you," said William, feeling a surge of pride despite himself.


    "Raynald!" said Rusara. "What have I told you about presenting a united front!"


    "I wouldn''t know; I wasn''t listening," said Raynald.


    Then William remembered a chimera. "Massacre, what happened to her?"


    "Oh, the chimera," said Raynald, "she''s fine. Her lion head needs to regenerate, but she''ll live."


    "Regenerate?" asked William.


    "Naturally," said Rusara, "chimeras have three heads. If one could die, that head would rot and kill the others. So they have evolved to resurrect their heads so long as one of them remains alive."


    "I''m glad," said William. "Can I see Father?"


    "He has been swamped lately," said Rusara. "But if you''d woken up a day ago, you''d have found him by your bedside. At the moment, he is off inspecting the border forts reconstruction. Some of the walls were badly damaged and-"


    "Leave us." said a cold voice.


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    Raynald and Rusara looked up and saw by the doorway the Lady Azgora. She had a stern expression, and her eyes fixed on Raynald with hatred. Raynald met her gaze right back as though daring her to do something.


    "Come, Raynald," said Rusara, "we''d best go."


    The two of them filed out, and William was alone with his mother. He felt her gaze on him and looked down at the ground as she approached him. This was it. She would yell at him and call him a fool for associating with Raynald and Rusara in the first place. He''d probably never- Was she hugging him?


    "By the goddess Zeya, William," said Mother. "If you ever scare me like that again, I''ll never forgive you!"


    "Mother, I... I didn''t mean to scare you," said William, not knowing what to say.


    "Then why did you listen to Raynald?!" asked Mother, separating from him. "You are too important to risk like that to me!"


    "Because I want you to be proud of me," said William. "But I have no idea what you want."


    She separated from him. "What do you mean?"


    "You say I should be one thing and then another," said William. "You tell me to listen to Raynald, and then you insult him and bait him. How am I supposed to prove myself if I don''t know what you expect?"


    "You''ve already more than proved yourself!" said Lady Azgora, looking like she was trying to hold back a smile. "You''ve proven yourself a fool for going along with them! A courageous, cunning, and brilliant fool!


    "What business do you have, taming chimeras and facing demons at your age?"


    "Well, it worked, didn''t it?" asked William.


    Azgora sighed. "I see now the workings of destiny."


    "Are you going to explain what you mean by that?" asked William. "Or are you just trying to be mysterious?"


    "In time," said Azgora. "In time." She arose. "Come, you have not seen Arsheen before now. It is a beautiful place. I will show you the palace for a start."


    The Palace of Arsheen was beautiful, with flowing fountains and elegant arches. The walls were as white as snow, and many beautiful statues could be seen throughout the rooms. Murals of significant battles, fallen lovers, and dark schemes.


    Almost all of them depicted Calishans.


    "Why do we keep these up here?" asked William, feeling resentment.


    "Your Father finds some beautiful," said Azgora. "Had I seized this castle, I would have burned it all. But wars are waged differently here."


    Then he saw something. The image of a blonde, bearded Harlenorian defending a nest of eggs, a broken sword in his hand. He moved forward, almost touching the image.


    "That''s Erik the Voyager!"


    "Some of the Calishans retold tales of his adventures," said Felix, appearing. "He became a folk hero in the regions he visited, so some art was created of him. You think he got the symbol of a cobra for nothing?" Over his back was slung a sword.


    "Felix, one of these days, you will have to explain how you appear like this," said Azgora.


    "Ask Rusara; she''s better at it than I am." He slung the blade off his back and pressed it into William''s hand. "I had it reforged."


    William took the sword and drew it out. The entire blade had gone pitch black, like the sword of his Father. He looked at it, noting several gleaming red runes, then looked to Felix. "What happened to my sword?"


    "After you cut Laughing Wraith with it," said Felix, "all the pieces turned black. It''s just as strong as before. I used the money we took from Massacre''s lair to pay for unique treatments that made the blade like it was.


    "Do you like it?"


    "It''s beautiful," said William. "In a savage sort of way."


    "Then it fits where you got it," said Felix. "Rusara put a few runes on it. I''m not at all sure what they do, to be honest."


    William turned the blade around and sheathed it. "Whatever they are, I''m certain they are for the best."


    "You mean like you were sure going with Rusara was for the best?" said Felix.


    "It was," said William. "If we hadn''t, we''d never have met Massacre and Kiyora and seen the things we did. Not all of it was pleasant, but I''m glad I went on this adventure."


    "Though such an attitude is an improvement," said Azgora, "you would do well to temper it with some wisdom."


    "Yes, Felix never lets me forget that," said William.


    Silence fell over them for a long moment. William stared into his friend''s eyes and wasn''t at all sure what to say. Both of them had changed over their journey. Before, Felix would never have spoken when he was talking to others. Before, William would never have looked forward to adventures.


    Before... before, everything was different.


    William smiled.


    "What?" said Felix.


    "Nothing," said William, "let''s see what else we can find here."


    The day wore on, and Mother had things to do. William and Felix continued to explore the castle of Arsheen. They saw many strange and beautiful things. Though Felix had already seen it all, he tolerated William''s ignorance.


    Finally, he and Felix came to a balcony overlooking the city. It was a beautiful sight, indeed, and William found his breath taken away. Arsheen was a vast coastal city that stretched three miles in length. Its roofs were mostly flat, but the buildings in it varied greatly. The poorest of the districts looked like works of art.


    A high white wall rang the city. In every direction around it was farmland, unlike in Carn Gable. The air here was far less cold. The sun bore down on them, and the fields were different. They grew other crops; they tended other trees.


    William wondered if he was dreaming for a moment. Then he decided that it didn''t matter. He turned from the balcony, and then she appeared. Kiyora appeared without warning. Her entrance was with none of the bright light or flash that had usually preceded her.


    "Hey," she said, looking awkward.


    "Greetings to you," he said, "what brings you here?"


    "Cut the formal speech, okay," said Kiyora, "I''m not in the mood."


    Silence fell over both of them as they waited there. Waiting for either of them to speak or break the silence. Finally, William had a question come to mind.


    "Kiyora," he said, "when you destroyed Laughing Wraith, what did you do?"


    "I didn''t destroy him," said Kiyora. "I mean, I don''t think I did. How do I put this? When I looked into that mirror, the Mirror of Laevian, I saw myself as I was. And I really couldn''t stand it; I hated what I saw so... so I think I shut that part of myself out of my mind.


    "I guess I got a bit carried away and shut away my powers of divinity as well."


    "So you manifested them when Laughing Wraith was going to kill you," guessed William.


    "No, I did it when I realized he was going to kill you," said Kiyora. "And Felix and Massacre. It dawned on me that all of you were important to me. I didn''t care if it was a dream then; I knew I had to do something."


    "Gods aren''t supposed to interfere with mortal affairs directly," muttered Felix.


    "Well, it was sort of a loophole," said Kiyora. "See, when I attacked Wraith, I was a mortal ascending to become divine. I think, or at least that is how Elranor described it to me."


    "You spoke with Elranor?" asked William.


    "I had a long conversation with him," said Kiyora. "He kind of... appeared to me in my world. I think. Or maybe I''m going insane, and my dreams have become hallucinations. Either way, our reality is boring, so much better."


    "What did he say?" asked William.


    "A lot of things," admitted Kiyora. "He had a message for you."


    "Really?" asked William, eager. "What was it?"


    "''Everything goes according to plan.''" said Kiyora.


    "That smug bastard," said Felix.


    William opened his mouth to criticize Felix for speaking of the gods with disrespect. Then he realized he was just as annoyed as Felix by this statement. Worse still, he wondered if he was supposed to take it seriously.


    "I wasn''t aware Elranor had a sense of humor," admitted William.


    "Well, it''s probably a good thing he does," said Kiyora. "People who don''t know how to laugh at themselves tend to be arrogant. And arrogant people make bad decisions. People who never laugh at all should be kept far away from positions of authority."


    "I don''t think that makes sense," said William.


    Silence again.


    "You know," said William, "I meant what I said before about building a shrine to you. It might take a while, but I''ll do it."


    "You don''t have to," said Kiyora. "I mean, the Nakmar have their means of worship."


    "Just think of it as my way of saying thank you," said William.


    He looked down at the gatehouse where the watchmen were peering down. Someone was at the gate. He wondered who it was, what they were doing here, and what the watchman was saying to him.


    "Open the gates!" called the watchman. "The Duke has returned!"


    William looked at Kiyora. "Could you stay for a bit longer?"


    "Well, I''ve probably got someone who wants my help," said Kiyora. "But I guess I could spare a minute or two."


    "Great," said William, "do you want to meet my father?"


    Kiyora smiled slightly. "I uh... sure, I guess."


    "Great," said William, "let''s go."


    The adventure had concluded. Yet William could hardly wait for the next one. He took this as proof that he had gone slightly mad.


    It was an ending of sorts. But it did not end.

 Book 2: The Heir of Kings

    I hope you have enjoyed Book 1 of Heaven and Hellfire, the Dreaming Goddess. I''m incredibly honored that so many people have come to read the book in such a short time. It means a lot to know so many people read this.


    Below is a note on the book''s development:


    The original vision for the book had William as thirty-eight. By then, he was already an experienced Paladin and featured the Demoness as his succubus ex-wife. Later on, the Demoness was supposed to be a dragon to a servant of Laevian called the Green Lady. The Green Lady was similar in concept to the White Witch from Narnia, and Kiyora was the main character. Baltoth would have had a much more prominent role. William as a kid, was added in as a secondary protagonist to Kiyora.


    However, the Green Lady proved boring as an enemy. Despite a somewhat interesting backstory, it had no presence. Thus Melchious, an older design, was brought in. But Melchious was so formidable that there was no way William could beat him directly. So the Demoness ended up stealing the show and becoming the de facto big bad. Only to then immediately ditch the entire story because she had already won. Laughing Wraith was thus envisioned as the final antagonist. He has his own connections to events and Melchious that I hope to go into later.


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    At the same time, Kiyora''s ability to warp in and out of her world made for a bad protagonist. William was stuck in Seathorius and had to get out by grit alone. Kiyora, on the other hand, could leave anytime she wanted, so her POV lacked tension. As a result, the early drafts were discarded. William became the principal protagonist. Felix was created as someone for him to talk to. Felix ended up proving to be one of the most formidable characters in the narrative. sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In addition, there was supposed to be an entire subplot. One dedicated to Raynor and Rusara following William''s trial. But I realized the only purpose it served was setting up their rescue toward the end of the story. And that could just as easily be left as a surprise.


    Beyond this point, we are getting into the sequel, Heir of Kings. Heir of Kings takes place in the same world but at a very different location. The heroes of this story will be different from William, Felix, Massacre, and Kiyora. But don''t worry, we''ll be getting back to them sooner or later.

 Prologue: The Thief

    Tanith slipped up the mountaintop, a burlap sack over one shoulder. A dark cloak covered her armor, and her swords were by her sides. She scaled her way up to the cave entrance. The coldness seemed exceedingly terrible here, and the darkness loomed before her. Tanith halted for a long moment. Then, turning, she glanced back to the border villages.


    She had some doubts about what she was about to do. But she''d come here to fight. And there hadn''t been a fight yet.


    She''d spent enough time throwing knives at dartboards. Now was the time for action.


    Tanith returned to the cave and slipped into it, careful not to make a sound. As she made her way down, she heard a heavy breathing sound like a sleeping dog. A smile came to her face as she turned the corner.


    A dragon. A black dragon.


    It would be so easy. She could cut the nasty things head off any time. But that wouldn''t start a war, would it? No, Benarus would beg and scrape about how it was a mysterious group of adventurers. He was worthless as far as lords went.


    She needed the dragons to make the first move. That would bring their werewolf allies into things. Kneeling down, she took hold of the treasure. Instantly, she felt a blow. Not a physical impact but a spiritual one. Tanith felt like there was something within this treasure. There was something more than mere gold.


    It was watching her.


    It certainly didn''t stop her as she filled it up. She didn''t take much. Just enough to notice, just enough to provoke. The dragon would follow it back.


    Stealing back up the cave, she slipped away.


    She moved quickly down the mountain road. She was as good as dead if she was spotted at this stage. And nothing would come of her plan.


    But she wasn''t spotted.


    Soon, she had reached human lands and was walking along a regular road. The morning was dawning, but no one had gotten up just yet. As she came near a village, Tanith took some gold out of the coins and scattered it across the fields nearby. She moved with speed and stealth, learned from the Calishan Wars.


    Tanith threw every coin she''d just stolen into various fields. Then she tossed the bag away and pulled off her cloak. From there, she walked up to the village and entered the inn.


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    There was Argath, looking over the map. She paused. "Argath, what are you doing here?"


    The dwarf looked up. "Oh, Tanith. I apologize; I sent word ahead. But the messenger said you''d already gone off on your own. Where were you?"


    "In the Wolven Forest," said Tanith. "I wanted to get a look at these werewolves myself."


    "Did you find them?" asked Argath.


    Tanith shrugged and sat down before motioning to the barmaid. The girl had chestnut hair and wore a white shirt, which showed off her assets. Tanith appreciated it more than most men. "Get me the usual, Emma."


    Then she looked to Argath. "No. They didn''t attack me."


    "Well, that is a relief," said Argath. "Perhaps Telix is serious about this."


    Tanith stared at him.


    "What is it?" said Argath.


    "You pick now to start acting like Calishans are people?" asked Tanith.


    "Telix isn''t a Calishan," said Argath.


    "The hell he isn''t," said Tanith. "He''s a son of Baltoth. He''s more Calishan than any of the animals we killed while raiding. So what did you say, ''Kill them all, and they''ll be reincarnated as something worthwhile?"


    "What happened to you, Argath?"


    Argath remained silent for a long moment. "...What we did. What I made you do, Tanith, it was too much."


    "Like hell it was," said Tanith. "You did exactly the same thing a dozen times. I talked with Raynald. What? So it''s alright for you to crucify a priest of Baltoth and rape his daughter. But we''re stepping over dangerous bounds when I try to do the same thing. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "When did the greatest mercenary captain in Harlenor start hiding behind meaningless treaties?"


    "The day I realized I''d taught you everything I knew," said Argath. "And I saw myself in the mirror with clarity. Tanith, Baltoth is pure evil. Everyone knows that. But I went too far."


    "Yeah, you also dragged me down here with the promise of battling werewolves." snapped Tanith. "I haven''t killed anything since we got back from the raid. I could have gone to visit William and Felix and my family. But then you told me there were dragons and werewolves to fight."


    Argath sighed. "The situation has changed, Tanith. When Duke Vanion made this... arrangement, no one thought it would work. But so far, it has.


    "Our services might not be required at all."


    "So am I still getting paid?" asked Tanith.


    "We could find employment here," said Argath. "You''ve already improved the skills of the trainees by your very presence. Benarus could use you as an instructor-"


    "I came here to kill dragons, Argath," said Tanith. "If we don''t have a war soon, I''m leaving and going to Artarq. I hear there is a war coming there."


    "...What do you want from me, Tanith?" asked Argath.


    Tanith considered the question. "I followed all your orders, Argath. I did everything you asked of me. I became everything you wanted in a subordinate while Eitrigg was talking mutiny.


    "So why the hell do you look at me like I''m some kind of monster?"


    Argath said nothing.


    And then screams of terror came from outside the village. The roar of a dragon echoed in their ears. The waitress clutched her ears in pain. People rushed outside to see what was happening. For her part, Tanith smiled.


    "Now see," said Tanith, "this is what I wanted from you."


    She threw aside her cloak. Her swords were out and thirsting for blood in a moment. Tonight, she dined on dragon meat.

 Chapter One: The Bright King

    Relma was going fishing in her spare time.


    Of course, fishing alone was never as good as fishing with a friend. So she dragged Ronald along with her. Ronald, being a halfling, was not very fond of being near large bodies of water. But the red-haired boy wanted to appear bold. So, he would never bring the facts up.


    It was a bright, sunny day beneath the gaze of the Black Mountain. There was a gentle breeze that kept things from being too hot. Unfortunately, it wasn''t strong enough to drive away the storm clouds. They still loomed over the Black Mountain. She''d seen them every morning as she left the house her entire life, and they never ceased to gall her. Still, other than them, only a few whiffs of cloud could be seen in the sky. Not that Ronald was enjoying it.


    "Relma, we''re not supposed to be out this far. Your Aunt Pan doesn''t like us going near the river without supervision." So Ronald was approaching the stage of second thoughts, was he?


    "Ronald, I have scrubbed every pot in the cellar a million times," said Relma. "I can handle getting a little wet. And so can you."


    "I know, but Pan doesn''t do these things without reason," said Ronald. "And Father always tells me to listen to her."


    "I want to do a bit of fishing, okay," said Relma. "It''s not like the river is renowned as a place of monsters. We''re miles from the border, and the satyrs haven''t dared cross it in years."


    "I know," said Ronald. "I know." He said again.


    They reached the bank, set their bait, and cast their lines. Ronald didn''t seem as nervous now that they were by the water. They talked about things. The comings and goings of the farms. The latest runes that Aunt Pan had set up.


    And then Ronald sat up with a start. He looked toward the woods, then to Relma. "Did you see that?"


    "What?" asked Relma, following his gaze. She saw only the underbrush.


    "I thought I saw something in the woods," said Ronald.


    "I don''t see anything," said Relma, hoping something might be out there. Then she got a bit. It hauled on her line and nearly pulled it out of her grip. She held on for dear life. "Wait! I''ve got one! I''ve got a huge one!"


    She strained to pull the fish out. But whatever it was yanked hard, and she lost her footing. "Relma!" cried Ronald.


    Then Relma was pulled into the water. She beat her way up as best she could, trying to keep her head above. But, unfortunately, she had never been any good at swimming. She was being pulled downstream. Finally, she saw Ronald running after her and offering her the end of a long branch. "Relma, take the stick! Come on, quick!"


    Relma reached out to snatch it, but her fingers slipped, and she was swept away. Pulled under the water, Relma hit her head, and everything went black.


    When she next awoke, her head didn''t hurt at all. She was lying on a bedroll beneath the shade of a tree. She could hear the river running by her. As her vision cleared, she saw someone looking down on her. He had long blonde hair and angelic features. He was the fairest person Relma had ever seen. She sat up with a start, feeling a blush creeping across her parts. He smiled. Relma felt a warmth at his smile. "So, you''ve awoken?"


    He was wearing armor. The most beautiful armor Relma had ever seen. It gleamed in the sun and was adorned with the symbol of a Sword surrounded by lightning bolts. The royal crest of Ancient Harlenor.


    "Where am I?" asked Relma.


    "On the island of Gel Carn," said the man.


    "I know that. I grew up here," said Relma. "I meant, where on it am I?"


    "Somewhere along Smyngoth''s River." said the man with a smile. "I''m not sure where. I pulled you out of it an hour ago."


    "You pulled me out?" asked Relma. "Why?"


    "You looked like you were drowning; I thought I might help." said the man. "Would you have preferred I stay my hand?"


    "Right, that is a stupid question," said Relma. "Who are you?"


    "Anoa the Bright," said the man.


    Relma smiled despite herself. She almost laughed. "Oh, come on. Everyone knows Anoa the Bright died ages ago. Besides, you don''t look at all like him."


    "Interesting, you should say that," said Anoa. "What makes you so sure?"


    "Well, Anoa the Bright was the greatest hero ever to live," said Relma. "I don''t think he''d wear fancy armor and fine cloaks like what you are wearing. He''d dress in simple clothes, and you wouldn''t know him to be royalty until you saw a sort of inner nobility. You''re a bit too finely dressed for the part."


    He laughed. "I suppose so. One changes over time. You never are the same from one minute to the next. What is your name?"


    "I''m Relma," she said. "I''m a farm handover at Fulsofs Farm. I live with my Aunt Pan."


    "And what is your last name?" asked Anoa.


    "I..." Relma paused. "I don''t know. I''m just Relma."


    "And no doubt your Aunt Pan is keeping some great secret from you. One that, when revealed, will shock you to your core," noted Anoa with a smirk.


    "Aunt Pan doesn''t lie," said Relma. "Though if she did know a great secret, she probably would never have told me."


    "Ah, so you don''t trust her?" guessed Anoa.


    "No, I trust her," said Relma. "But she doesn''t really tell me much. Not even about my parents."


    "Oh, them. I remember them," said Anoa. "You do?" asked Relma. "But you didn''t even know who I am."


    "I wasn''t sure who you were at first," admitted Anoa. "If I recall... yes, now, I remember. They were Resca and Hadleim. Hadleim was a soldier who won glory for himself fighting the satyrs of the eastern marshes. And Resca was beautiful.


    "I remember she had hair like yours and was very humble. She always thought too little of herself."


    "What happened to her?" asked Relma. Why did she believe him?


    Anoa remained silent. "...A sorcerer of great power, who went by the name of Tuor, found them. He slew Hadleim and Resca. But Pandora the Sorceress stopped him from killing you, and he was forced to withdraw."


    "Where were you during this?" asked Relma. "Why didn''t you help them?"


    "A fair question," said Anoa. "The truth is I went beyond this world a long time ago. It is no longer my role to help people. I have a different task now."


    "How do I know you''re not making all this up?" asked Relma.


    "Ask your Aunt Pan," said Anoa. "I expect she knows the truth. Or don''t. She''ll tell you sooner or later."


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    "Are you really Anoa the Bright?" asked Relma.


    "I left my old self behind long ago," admitted Anoa, eyes growing distant and taking on an uncanny gleam. "What remains now is a shadow, a memory that can scarcely be recalled."


    "You''re right in front of me," said Relma.


    "I''ve been thinking about who I am a great deal of late," admitted Anoa. "Now, you''d best be returning to your Aunt Pan. I''m sure she''ll be worried sick about you."


    "Relma! Relma!" cried Ronald''s voice.


    Relma looked up and would have run toward him. Then she halted and looked to Anoa. "Thank-" she began. But Anoa was gone. So was the bedroll. "-you."


    Had she seen things? But then why wasn''t she wet? And how had she gotten out of the river?


    Ronald came out of the trees before she could think about anything else. He was sweating heavily, and his pink cheeks were particularly red.


    "Ronald," said Ronald.


    "I went to get Pan, and she''s here," said Ronald.


    And then Aunt Pan stepped out of the trees. Or perhaps the trees made way for her. Her dark hair was flowing about her as she approached. Her eyes were narrowed, and Relma shrank as she approached.


    "Well, you''ve been busy, haven''t you, Relma," said Aunt Pan.


    "I uh... yes, I have," said Relma. "I pulled myself out of the river by the roots."


    "Well, you can pull yourself back into dry clothes," said Aunt Pan. "You''ve gotten into enough trouble for one day, I think. Otherwise, you''ll catch your death. Come with me."


    "Aunt Pan, who were my parents?" said Relma.


    Pan halted. "Relma, I thought I told you we''d have this conversation when you''re old enough to understand."


    "Well, when will I be old enough?" asked Relma.


    "I''ll tell you when," said Pan.


    "Well, what were their names?" asked Relma. "I want to know who I am. Can''t you tell me anything?" If Aunt Pan told her that much, she could know if Anoa was telling the truth. "Your mother''s was named Resca.


    "Your Father''s was named Hadleim."


    Point one for Anoa telling the truth. "Was he a soldier?" S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Pan looked at her sharply. Relma knew she''d struck a nerve. "What gave you that idea?"


    "So, he wasn''t?" Relma pushed her.


    "No, he was," said Pan. "But he didn''t like fighting, so he retired and became a farmer. That was when he met Resca. Now, let''s pick up the pace. You might catch your death. The other answers will come to you in time."


    Relma decided not to push her luck any further.


    The rest of the week passed like any other. Relma went through her work in the scullery, pondering where Anoa had come from. And if he really was that legendary old king. Did he often appear to people like that? It seemed a kingly thing to do, but she hadn''t had any stories.


    Either he did. Or she was someone special. Would his ghost really know the names of two commoners? He seemed like he had a personal interest in them. Elranor, she could see doing that; he was a god. But mortals could only remember so much.


    If Anoa did have a personal interest in her parents, he might have a particular interest in her. That would be wonderful. And she was distracted by the prospect. While drilling with the halfling militia, she fell out of formation and got a stern talking to.


    What about this Tuor fellow? Who was he?


    If he had killed Relma''s parents, he probably had a reason. Maybe he was an enemy of Aunt Pan, obviously Pandora the Sorceress. The name was slightly different, and it wasn''t as though she had bothered to hide her abilities. She just pretended they were a lot weaker than they actually were.


    Or at least Relma imagined it to be so.


    Come to think of it, if her parents had been killed by Tuor, why would Pandora decide to raise Relma as her own? They must have been at least friends. Which probably meant that Tuor killed them to get at Pan.


    Or perhaps Relma was utterly wrong.


    Either way, things changed in the middle of the following week. Relma had just finished her chores and was walking out when Ronald approached her. "Relma, Relma!"


    "What is it, Ronald?" asked Relma.


    "Aren has come," said Ronald. "I heard from Father he''s come over the river and is coming to Gel Carn."


    Aren, or Gail Arengeth, as he was known in legend, had not been down this way for two years. He often traveled, telling stories and meeting with kings and lords. He spoke to everyone as an equal, no matter their rank. Mainly because he didn''t have a rank, or, if he had a rank at all, it was so far above everyone else.


    He could have some of those Sornian Fireworks he''d brought last time. He''d said he''d make a batch of them himself. "Let''s go meet him."


    Ronald led her down the road toward the river. They moved quickly, and soon, they came across an old man with a long gray beard and shabby brown clothes. A gnarled old staff was in his hands, and on his head was a brown hood.


    "Aren, you''re back at last," said Relma. "We haven''t seen you for two years."


    And she hugged him. Aren returned the embrace. "I''m sorry, Relma. I meant to come back earlier. But there is always one thing or another that needs tending. Especially of late."


    Relma looked up at him, and his eyes were troubled. That meant bad things were afoot. "What do you mean?"


    "I mean, I was delayed by the ambitions of Mighty Lords with many complex plans. Most of which they aren''t half capable of achieving," said Aren. "Escor nearly had another civil war, you see."


    "Escor always has civil wars," said Ronald.


    "Yes," said Aren. "If nothing else, I can trust the reign of King Vortegex to keep things interesting. But, unfortunately, things have been going badly, I''m afraid. Petty disagreements that have been bubbling for years are nearly boiling over."


    "Is Vortegex a bad king?" asked Relma as they began to walk.


    "Oh, I wouldn''t call him that," said Aren. "He is paranoid and not unjustly so. His forefathers left him a precarious throne. And House De Chevlon is always meddling in things they should have left behind long ago.


    "How has the scullery faired?"


    "You know as well as I," said Relma. "I met an... interesting situation a little while ago."


    "Indeed?" asked Aren. "And what was that?"


    Relma didn''t want to lie again. But, unfortunately, neither did she want to tell the truth either.


    "We were out fishing, and Relma caught a huge one," said Ronald. "But it pulled her into the river and dragged her downstream. We had to spend hours looking for her."


    "A near thing," said Aren. "You really should be more careful about disobeying your Aunt. If you get into trouble, you''ll need to go for her to help, and then you''ll be kept on an even tighter leash.


    "Speaking of leashes, have you learned to read yet?"


    Relma blinked. Read? "Um, no. I wasn''t aware I was supposed to.


    "What has your Aunt been putting you up to all this time?" asked Aren.


    "Aside from the scullery?" asked Relma. "Odd jobs."


    "Well, that is it," said Aren. "I think I will have to have a word with her. I intend to do it before I meet with the Steward."


    That confirmed that Aren and Aunt Pan had a personal investment in her education. Even if Aren dealt with unimportant people all the time, this was far too involved. Why hadn''t Relma picked up on all this before?


    "The Steward?" asked Ronald. "You''re meeting with Steward Benarus?"


    "Yes," said Aren. "One or two minor points that need addressing."


    "What about?" asked Relma.


    "The salvation of the world. The defense of the realm," said Aren. "What sort of crown one king or another ought to wear. The usual nonsense I have to contend with."


    "That sounds much more exciting than what I''m doing," said Relma.


    "Of course it does. New things always are," said Aren. "Unfortunately, I''ve been in this business since the days of Anoa the Bright. It has all become rather monotonous. Tyrants rise and fall, and no one is pleased with what they have until they lose it."


    "Do you have the fireworks?" asked Relma. Aren made very good fireworks displays.


    "I did," said Aren in an annoyed tone. "But they got ruined in an accident. Making them was more difficult than expected, and I didn''t properly deal with the black powder. I''ll try better next time. Making them is certainly more entertaining than making kings."


    "Have you made kings in the past?" asked Ronald.


    "That is a foolish question, young Ronald," said Aren. "But if I need to elaborate on my reputation, the answer is More than a few. Of course, Anoa the Bright was the one everyone remembers. But there were some other Kings I helped come to power who didn''t see their realms last. And then, of course, there was that fiasco with the breaking of Harlenor. So, things became even more complicated.


    "Really, things are impossible. Don''t ever go into the wizarding business, young Ronald. It takes as much work as ruling a Kingdom, and you get even fewer thanks."


    "Kings get thanked all the time," said Relma.


    "Yes," mused Aren. "And if the people thanking aren''t cowering in fear, they are usually clutching daggers."


    Relma felt Arengeth would be much more important than Resca and Hadleim. She had to be sure to get into his good graces.

 Chapter Two: Unsurprising Revelations

    They arrived home.


    Home was a house that Ronald''s Father had set aside for Aunt Pan to live in. It was near the border of the Halfling lands, and Relma had always liked the place. It was a one-room cottage built of stone. But the inside was lined with wood to block out the cold. Furs lined the walls as well.


    Aunt Pan was outside of it as always, tending to the garden. When she saw Aren, she blinked. Then, at once, she stopped what she was doing and made her way up to him.


    "Aren, I wasn''t expecting you here," said Aunt Pan.


    Aren shrugged. "Of course, you weren''t. I need to discuss something with you, and it can''t wait."


    "Very well," said Aunt Pan. "Let''s discuss it." She looked at Relma. "Relma, wait here. We''ll speak alone."


    Relma nodded and walked some ways away. They often spoke like this. For a while, she had thought Aunt Pan was just a friend of Aren''s. Someone he said with for information. That was how she tried to pass it off, anyway.


    Of course, that explanation fell flat when you considered that no one else spoke to Aren as an equal.


    As soon as the door shut, Relma immediately ran up to the window and listened by it.


    "Relma?" said Ronald. "What are you doing?"


    Relma put a finger to her lips in a gesture of silence. Ronald got the point.


    "Why haven''t you taught her to read by now?" she heard Aren say.


    "I didn''t judge it necessary," said Aunt Pan.


    "Didn''t judge it necessary?" asked Aren. "Do you know how important being able to write letters is? The girl may have much writing to do in her life."


    "I will teach her when she is ready," replied Aunt Pan.


    "When she is-" Aren sputtered. "Do you want the girl to grow up without a thought in her head? You should start teaching her now."


    "We agreed that her education was in my hands," said Pan.


    "Yes. We did," said Aren. "Unfortunately, it doesn''t seem you are giving her an education."


    "I am teaching her humility. I didn''t learn to read at her age," said Pan. "And the more mundane variety of skills could be useful."


    "Well, stop. You''ve hammered that lesson in hard enough, and she is starting to resent it," said Aren. "I want you to teach her how to read beginning now. What are the other aspects of her education?


    "I assume you haven''t just been giving her a humble upbringing on a farm."


    Dead silence. Relma smiled.


    "...You did," said Aren incredulously. "What were you thinking?"


    "I didn''t want her growing up believing she was somehow better than everyone else," said Aunt Pan.


    "Yes," said Aren. "And as a result, she is approaching adulthood and lacks the necessary skills."


    "There is still time," said Pan. "Her bloodline will make it easier. And anyway, there is no certainty that it is her destiny. Far from it, we could still be waiting-"


    "Destiny is unpredictable," said Aren. "And even if it isn''t her destiny, she will need more practical skills. Or have you heard nothing of Duke Vanion?"


    "You said Vanion was of no concern," said Aunt Pan.


    "That was years ago, Pan," said Aren. "I misjudged him. I assumed that his connection to Melchious would end his career. Instead, he used it to engineer the downfall of his enemies. He has become the governor of Artarq and will be in command of the front line against Calisha. Any victories that are won there will increase his glory. And if he is defeated, it will be an even worse disaster.


    "Have you seen this, Pandora?"


    "What is this?" asked Pan.


    "It''s an adventure story. Written by his son. It has become prevalent among literate circles," said Aren.


    "His son is fourteen years old. No older than Relma," said Pan.


    "Yes, well, apparently, he washed ashore in Seathorius and made his way back to Artarq on foot," said Aren. "There is probably some semblance of truth in the account. But knowing Vanion, he has doctored the truth to serve his purposes."


    "Let me see it," said Aunt Pan. "The Dreaming Goddess. Strange title."


    "At the very least, I think he met her," said Aren. "He pictured her precisely right. I suppose I''ll have to meet the boy to know for sure how many lies and how much is the truth. I do know that he did see Elranor.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "William is already famous. And now my sources tell me he has taken to healing the sick and injured of Artarq as a miracle worker." sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Why is this a concern?" asked Pan.


    "King Andoa''s granddaughter, Ansara, is the same age," said Aren in frustration. "Elranor above, Pan, have you been paying attention?"


    "I have been in Gel Carn for the last century, Father," said Pan. "I hear only what news you and others bring. People in Gel Carn are concerned about things closer to home, and Duke Vanion is a faraway name." Well, that confirmed she was Pandora the Sorceress, at least.


    "Well, he won''t be far away if he marries his son into royalty," said Aren. "Gel Carn is practically part of Southern Antion."


    "What if he does?" asked Pan. "Dynasties rise and fall."


    "He has holdings in Haldren," said Aren. "And he has a legitimate claim to the throne of Escor. If his family becomes the Royal House of Antion, they may start a war of conquest. Ambitious men try to fulfill the prophecy themselves when they are too proud.


    "You know how Haldrenians get about fate. We can''t let that happen."


    "Then what do you propose we do?" asked Pan, concerned.


    "For a start, speed up the girl''s education," said Aren. "I''m taking her to the Steward''s Castle for training. So she''ll be taught properly there. And for another thing, I''ll tell her exactly who she is and what her legacy was."


    "No, you will not!" said Pan. "The first I''ll concede to, but I won''t reveal that to her until she is ready to bear the responsibility. You know what knowledge like that can do to people."


    "The girl is stronger than you think," said Aren. "But I take your point. She''ll be asking many questions, though. She''s been listening to us this whole time. So why don''t you come out, Relma?"


    Relma blinked and stood. Then she opened the door and walked in, not bothering to look sheepish. Aunt Pan looked at her with narrowed eyes, but Relma smiled innocently and stared right back.


    Finally, Aunt Pan looked away. "How did I not see her?"


    "I hid her from your view, obviously," said Aren. "You''ve sheltered her far too much, daughter."


    "Aunt Pan, what is going on?" asked Relma, keeping her smile on.


    "That is a very long story, my dear," said Aren. "We don''t have time to tell it all. But to make a long story short, your Aunt is actually Pandora the Sorceress, my daughter. We have worked together for many years to thwart the great enemy."


    "Pandora, wow," said Relma in exaggerated wonder. "I never knew. Golly gosh, this is shocking."


    Her efforts to annoy Aunt Pan worked quite well. "Yes, Relma, I know you''ve suspected for years," said Pan. "But so long as you didn''t ask, I saw no reason to tell you more. What caused you to believe it was so?"


    "I''m not blind, deaf, and stupid," said Relma with a shrug. "Everyone you talk with instantly shows great respect. You know all kinds of runes which can be used for practical effect. And whenever you speak, people listen. Lord Artor Fulsof has come to you for advice more than once.


    "Plus, everyone I ask tells me you look exactly the same as you did when you first came here."


    She paused. "Why are you raising me? Was it because of my parentage?"


    Aren and Aunt Pan shared a glance that answered the question. "That is one of the things we don''t have time for," said Pan. "I will tell you in time. But if I told you now, it would interfere with your development.


    "For now, we''ll have to go to Gel Carn."


    "But we''re already at Gel Carn," said Relma. Being literal was fun.


    "I mean the castle of Gel Carn, not the country," said Aunt Pan. "I never liked how Anoa named them the same thing; it makes it all very confusing."


    "Why do I have to go there?" asked Relma.


    "You have a destiny, Relma," said Aren. "And you''ve got to fulfill it. Unfortunately, Pandora has been a bit slow in getting you ready. Something to do with humility, I imagine."


    "Father, I have seen what pride does to people," said Pan in irritation. "You are only at court for a few hours and then gone. But I''ve had to see the arrogance of kings ruin whole nations."


    "Am I related to a King?" asked Relma.


    Another glance. "...You are of a very important bloodline," said Aren. "But not that of any King of the Harlenorian Kingdoms."


    "I''m related to Anoa the Bright, aren''t I?" asked Relma.


    "What could possibly make you think that?" asked Pan too quickly.


    "Well, I''m a Harlenorian, so I can''t be the daughter of a King from a non-Harlenorian Kingdom," said Relma. "And there is the prophecy that one of King Anoa''s descendants will kill Baltoth. Not to mention the one about the heir of Anoa creating Harlenor Reunited."


    "I never said you were even related to a King," said Pan.


    "Yeah, but you and Aren looked at each other in shock a moment ago," said Relma. "So something I said hit close to the mark."


    Aren laughed. "The girl is much brighter than you gave her credit for, Pan."


    "So I see," said Pan. "Yes, Relma, you are of the bloodline of Anoa the Bright. And that bloodline will one day reunite Harlenor and put an end to Baltoth. But that doesn''t mean you''ll ever be Queen. One of your or your children''s children could take the throne.


    "Prophecies pick their own way of being fulfilled.


    "Now you had better pack your things. We have to get going in the morning."


    "What about Ronald?" asked Aren.


    "Ronald?" asked Pan. "You let him listen."


    Ronald came in quickly. "Is all that really true, Relma? Are you the heir of the Bright King?"


    "I just heard about it," said Relma. "Listen to me, Ronald, you must not tell anyone about this. If you do, Baltoth might find out and try to kill me. And he''ll probably burn down all the villages in the region simultaneously."


    "I think Ronald had best come with us," said Aren.


    "Why do I have to leave?" asked Ronald.


    "Well, you are the son of Lord Fulsof," said Aren. "Or, at any rate, your father is called a lord outside your lands. It will be good for you to go to Gel Carn and train as a knight. And good for relations between the two lands?"


    "Me?" asked Ronald. "A knight of Gel Carn? Like Sir Frederick?"


    "Why not?" laughed Aren. "You''ve been training in fighting. Though I expect you''ll need to put in a lot of work to get anywhere near the most famous knight in Gel Carn."


    "Yes," said Ronald, "but I don''t like fighting."


    "But when you get back, you''ll have all kinds of stories to tell," said Aren. "You''ll probably be the talk of the Farm Dwellings. Of course, we won''t force the matter, but I think it would do you good."


    "But will Father even allow it?" asked Ronald.


    "I''ll have a talk with him," said Pan. "I''m sure he''ll see the potential benefits." Then she looked at Relma. "And you, Relma, have pots to scrub. We''ll need at least a week now. Ronald''s father will want to have time. So you aren''t getting out of your chores that easily."


    "Oh, come on," said Relma. "I''m the Heir of Kings!"


    "That''s no excuse for not finishing your duties," said Pan.


    What was the good of a bloodline if it didn''t get you out of chores?

 Chapter Three: Waylaid on the Roadside

    Days passed, and, eventually, Aunt Pan got her way. On their departure day, a cloudy gray sky was overhead. As Ronald and Relma packed their things, Relma halted. "Well, this is it?" she said.


    "What is?" asked Ronald.


    "Well, I mean, I''ve always wondered what Gel Carn, the castle, looked like," said Relma. "And now I''m finally getting the chance to see it."


    "Speak for yourself," said Ronald. "I don''t much want to go."


    "Oh, come on, it''ll be an adventure," said Relma.


    "But I won''t be getting back for years and years," said Ronald. "It feels like we barely had time to say goodbye to anyone before they pulled us off into the blue. And I''ll be completely out of place among castle folk."


    "You don''t know that," said Relma. "Aren and Aunt Pan think you''ll do fine."


    "Your Aunt Pan pulled us off because she didn''t trust me not to blab," said Ronald with a sigh. "She doesn''t actually think I''ll manage."


    Relma put a hand on his shoulder. "We''ll both manage Ronald."


    They finished packing and went out to meet Aren. Aunt Pan was nowhere to be found. She''d left the previous night on some business of her own.


    "Hasn''t Aunt Pan gotten back yet?" asked Relma.


    "I''m afraid she''ll have to meet us on the road," said Aren. "Come, we''ll get underway at once."


    They left behind the farm, and Relma gave a final glance back at her old home. Then she turned and walked onward. Yes, she was leaving behind the familiar, but she was going toward the new. That enthusiasm kept her walking. Ronald seemed far more conflicted.


    Something strange began to happen as they walked. Relma realized she didn''t regret leaving at all. Nor had she been looking forward to leaving. She hadn''t been excited or sad. It was a bit strange.


    Relma had always known she wasn''t like other people. She didn''t see things the same way. Leaving everything she''d known behind her was just... mundane somehow. As if she''d always known she''d leave the place behind and hadn''t gotten attached.


    She wondered if she''d ever think of it again.


    Then a question occurred to her. She approached Aren. "Aren, can I ask you something?"


    "Yes, of course, dear girl," said Aren. S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What was Anoa the Bright like?" asked Relma.


    Aren considered it. "Magnificent. But also pitiful."


    Relma blinked. That didn''t sound at all like the Anoa she''d met. "What do you mean?"


    "How shall I put this?" asked Aren, looking at the sky. "Some men become great because they succeed in performing great deeds. Others become great because they are given no choice but to achieve them. Anoa was a bit of both.


    "He didn''t want to be a King, but he did his best. And he did an excellent job for a while. He united all the feuding chieftains and established Harlenor United. The trouble was that bad things just kept happening to him. Finally, toward the end of his reign, he started to fall to pieces.


    "It was a mercy; it ended there, actually."


    "When he ascended into heaven, you mean?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said Aren.


    Aren had been there. From the way Aren said that, though, Relma wondered if that was what really happened. His gaze had gone distant, and his expression dark.


    "What''s wrong?"


    "His reign didn''t end very happily," said Aren. "The beginnings of Harlenor are a sad story for many reasons. However, it was after Anoa the Bright that the golden age began. He laid the foundations on which his descendants built your legacy.


    "Where is your aunt? She should have been here by now?"


    At that moment, a snowy white owl landed on the road before them. It suddenly changed shape and shifted into the form of Aunt Pan.


    "I''m here, Father," said Pan.


    "Pandora, what took you so long?" asked Aren.


    "I had to say a few goodbyes in the village. And get a few things for the journey," said Pan. "Come, we''d best move quickly."


    So they walked. For the whole day, they walked under the trees, and as they did, Relma once again wondered why it didn''t excite her. Several times they passed travelers on the road. Finally, the sky began to go dark above them. Aunt Pan came and went as an owl several times throughout this period.


    Eventually, Aren halted in a clearing when the light started to die. "We''ll stop here for the night. But, Relma, I think I had best start teaching you to read. Ronald, you may as well learn too if you don''t know already."


    "I already know my letters," said Ronald. "Father taught me."


    "Well, then you can help Relma learn hers," said Aren. "I don''t know what your aunt was thinking."


    "Is she really my aunt?" asked Relma.


    "In a very indirect fashion, yes," said Aren. "Another daughter of mine married one of Anoa the Bright''s descendants. One of the benefits of immortality is that you have the chance to see how things turn out. Usually, long after, the ones'' who set things in motion have moved on."


    "Moved on?" asked Relma.


    "Yes. Reincarnation happens," said Aren. "People die and come back in one form or another, and I often meet them again. For example, I meet my daughter every so often and see how she is doing. Though she usually doesn''t remember me."


    "How did you become immortal?" asked Ronald.


    "It was a gift bestowed on my daughter and me by Elranor in return for extended service. We were permitted to drink of the Grail of Immortality," said Aren. "That story is also very long; you won''t hear it from me tonight. Now let''s begin."


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Learning to read was as dull as it sounded. Aren brought out books, and Relma had to memorize things. Letters and concepts like sentences and such. It was incredibly tedious, and Ronald was of little help.


    As it turned out, Aren wasn''t a very good teacher, and he seemed to know it.


    "I think we''d better leave the rest to your Aunt," he said. "I''ve never been good at teaching this sort of thing. Teaching magic is easy. You just instruct someone on the basics and let them build themselves up with practice.


    "Reading and writing are more difficult. And I hate the New Harlenorian language."


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "Because it is obscenely overcomplicated," said Aren. "As much as I hate Baltoth, he understands good sense. The written languages he created are simple, with each letter used for a single sound.


    "You''d never catch Calishans using three separate letter combinations for one sound."


    "Why is New Harlenorian so complicated?" asked Relma.


    "Because it isn''t a single language," said Aren. "It''s a misshapen mass sewn together from the corpses of older, better languages. Then resurrected with dark magic. It''s got elements of Elvish, Dwarvish, Old Harlenorian, Giant, and others. I''ve never been able to grasp it fully, to be honest. Tuor always was..." He trailed off.


    "Who was Tuor?" asked Relma.


    "An old apprentice of mine," said Gail. "He was far too orderly for his own good. It led him down a dark path."


    Tuor was the one who killed her parents. But Relma couldn''t ask directly about that. Not without revealing she''d met Anoa.


    "What path?" asked Ronald.


    "He had no appreciation for freedom," said Gail. "He came to regard the Harlenorian Nations with contempt. Then, rather than wait for Harlenor Reunited, he decided to take matters into his own hands.


    "He joined with Baltoth. And did many unforgivable things in his service."


    Relma nodded.


    Then suddenly, figures came out of the woods. They were tall and burly men wearing furs, and they carried weapons. Gail arose in a moment and threw back his cloak. As he did so, they halted.


    "Step aside, old man," said one of the men.


    "I think not," said Gail. "Who are you, and where do you come from?"


    "You don''t need to know that." said the man, brandishing his weapon. "You need to know that we''re taking the girl with us."


    "You might want to reconsider this, good sir," said Gail. "I''m in no mood to humor thugs."


    "And I''m in no mood to humor idiots," said the thug. "Take ''em!"


    He ran forward and swung his axe. At that moment, Ronald rushed forward, holding a short blade in his hand. "Aren!"


    "Ronald, get back, you fool!" cried Aren.


    The sword was knocked from Ronald''s hand in a moment, and he was thrown down. The thugs came forward toward them. Gail raised a hand, and green light blazed within his palm.


    And then, from around the road, there came an unruly howling. A halfling upon a massive wolf came riding. He wore heavy armor that covered his whole body, and a lance was in his hand.


    "Gel Carn! Gel Carn!" he roared.


    "Leg it, it''s Frederick." cried a bandit.


    They scattered and made a run for it. One of them was too slow, and he got the lance to the back. It pierced through him and was driven through his body. Frederick halted his charge and drew out the lance as the rest of them left.


    "Sir Frederick, your timing is impeccable," said Gail.


    "I had words of bandits taking to the roads," said Frederick, dismounting from his wolf. "I came to hunt them down. Though I did not think to complete my other mission so quickly."


    "What mission?" asked Gail.


    "I bear a message from the Steward Benarus," said Frederick. He wishes to speak with you immediately, having heard you have arrived in Gel Carn."


    "What about?" asked Gail.


    "The wolf demon Telix has entered the forests near us," said Frederick. "He and his brood have been devouring the flocks of the shepherds and making off with young maidens. Worse still, they''ve allied with the black dragon Wrynncurth."


    Gail sighed. "Telix again? I knew he had changed his haunts. I did not know he was coming here."


    "Who is Telix?" asked Relma.


    "The result of Baltoth''s union with a wolf spirit. One made while passing through Seathorius," said Gail. "He stealth wanders from forest to forest and steals the shepherds'' flocks. I''ve been meaning to put an end to him for some years, but he always slips away."


    "Still, why would he ally with Wrynncurth?" asked Relma. "I thought the black dragons were ancient friends of Harlenor."


    "Sometimes," said Aren, "but things have changed since the old stories. Still, we''ll get there in our own good time. Return to Benarus and tell him we are on our way and will be there soon."


    "But time is pressing," said Frederick.


    "Time is not nearly so pressing as most people think," said Gail.


    At this moment, Aunt Pan got back. "Don''t show your age, Father. Of course, we''ll come at once. Relma, Ronald, pack up the camp. We''ll make our way there at once."


    "My thanks, Lady Pandora," said Frederick. "However, I cannot lead you there. I am needed in Gel Carn. My liege may need my sword soon."


    "And I am certain it shall be put to valiant use, Sir Frederick," said Pandora.


    Then Frederick looked to Ronald. "You, what is your name, lad?"


    "I''m Ronald. Son of Fulsof," said Ronald, looking awkward. "You''re Sir Frederick?"


    "I am," said Frederick. "You have a stout heart. But you should be less eager to bare it to the knives of your enemies until you are older." Then he mounted his wolf and rode away.


    Aren glared daggers at Aunt Pan. "Why must you rush me, Pandora?"


    "People''s lives are on the line Father," said Pan.


    "The ones who die will be reincarnated soon enough," said Aren with a shrug. "A few will go the heaven, a few will go to hell. You can''t afford to run yourself ragged over a few lost sheep, Pan."


    "A few lost sheep can make all the difference, Father," said Pan. "And what kind of example are you setting right now?"


    Aren sighed. "Fair enough. Where have you been?"


    "Scouting," said Pandora. "The taint we sensed in the forest has slipped away."


    "Past you?" asked Aren. "Age must be catching up with you, my dear."


    "It is not," said Pandora. "Whoever it was has been stalking around for some time. I''m not sure how long."


    "I remember we felt like someone was watching us," said Relma. "Back when we were going fishing. When I fell into the river."


    "Why didn''t you say something?" asked Pan.


    "We thought we had imagined it," said Relma. "And with almost drowning it didn''t seem important." And meeting Anoa.


    "Well," said Pandora, "we cannot do anything about it now. Let us hope that they did not see anything that interested them. Now get to work."


    They set out soon after. Relma had time to consider things. Other people didn''t feel pain when they tried to lie. But Relma did. She''d always needed to understand why. And what was all this about someone watching her.


    If they had been watching her, then could they have seen Anoa?


    But surely Anoa the Bright would have sensed them and done something about it. Or, at the very least, not been so obvious about the truth. But, then again, it took her time to puzzle things out. And she wasn''t like other people.


    Maybe his hints had been genuinely subtle, and she was just brilliant. Or possibly everyone else was just stupid. That was a somewhat mean thought.


    Then Relma considered that intelligence really was relative. A genius among ants would be far less intelligent than a simpleton among humans. So it could actually be both. And neither. "Why didn''t you want to go right away, Aren?" asked Ronald suddenly.


    "I don''t like Kings thinking that I am at their beck and call," said Aren. "It does well to remind them I don''t exist to solve their petty differences. Of course, I do my best, but they have to sort out some things for themselves at the end of the day. I''m just here to keep things on the right path. What they do on the path is their own business.


    "Your aunt has always had the opposite viewpoint. She felt we should intervene in every little thing. Which I why I gave her the task of raising Relma."


    "But people could die," said Ronald.


    "And it''s unfortunate," said Aren. "The truth, however, is that sometimes you must let a bad thing happen. That way, the person it happens to learns to fix their problems. If I sheltered them from everything bad that happened, they would grow dependent on me. And anyway, that isn''t in my power to do."


    "Would you be saying that if it was my home getting raided by wolf demons?" asked Ronald.


    "Excellent point, Ronald," said Pandora.


    "I would probably act," admitted Aren. "Relma has an important destiny, and her getting killed would be disastrous for the world. Also, I''m something of a hypocrite.


    "The sad fact is that not everyone is a hero of legend. Some people are born to be great. Others simply live and play one or two parts in the great story of history. You have to learn to prioritize these things, my boy."


    "And what if we don''t want to play one or two parts?" asked Ronald. "What if we want to be heroes?"


    "Well, there are some who manage to become great by determination and grit," said Gail. "But by and large most people are chosen for one thing or another. Fighting against it just makes everyone worse off."


    "Don''t listen to Father," said Pandora. "He''s just set in his ways. He is ancient, you know."


    "Of course I am," said Gail. "And with age comes great wisdom."


    "Does it? I hadn''t noticed any in you," said Pandora.


    "Fine words from the one whose messes we''re walking to clean up, daughter," replied Aren.


    Relma decided that she liked this life better than the other one.

 Chapter Four: The Steward of Gel Carn

    Several times, Ronald complained about the long march. He wasn''t used to this, and neither was Relma. But Relma didn''t feel like complaining.


    The odd thing was that Relma was tired. Her feet hurt from the constant march, and her mouth was dry. But she wasn''t weary in her mind. She judged that she could keep going like this for a long time. Her feet hurt. But she didn''t mind her feet hurting. Relma had never been like other people. She wasn''t sure how to feel about the fact. So she thought about things.


    And at last, they came out of the woods and saw the castle.


    It took Relma''s breath away.


    Gel Carn had been built into the side of the black mountain, but it was made from white stone. The walls were massive, perhaps thirty feet high. It had thirteen spires, all of the different heights. The rightmost one was the shortest, and they got taller as you looked further left. The tallest of them was on the keep and reached so high that it was taller than the knees of the Black Mountain. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The roofs of the castle glittered in the sun. Was the surface coated in gems? It looked like the road leading up to the gate was cobbled with them. Yet that couldn''t be. They must have been colorful stones or magic or something to that effect.


    "At last, Gel Carn," said Aren.


    "It''s beautiful," said Relma.


    She didn''t feel detached from this. In fact, it was almost familiar. Like Relma was returning to a home she''d never been in. But which had a part of her within it.


    "Once, it was the greatest castle in all of Harlenor," said Aren. "Anoa the Bright''s capital. But those days are long past."


    "You mean it used to be even better?" asked Ronald.


    "No," said Aren. "It is one of the few things in this world that hasn''t changed. Even so, stonework and city building have come a long way since. It looks wonderful, and there are potent spells on it. But Brisgald in the northwest of Antion is the more remarkable fortification. Still, there is something to be said about history.


    "This castle has seen many long years. And it will see many more to come."


    "I have never much liked the place," said Aunt Pan. "It reminds me too much of Anoa."


    "Isn''t that a good thing?" asked Ronald.


    "No," said Aunt Pan. "Anoa the Bright and I never got on very well. He was a competent administrator and a great war leader. But he was reckless and bloodthirsty."


    "You only saw him toward the end of his reign, Pan," said Aren. "And anyway, you always were a sap for Orsen and Gwendoven."


    "Who are they?" asked Ronald.


    "Orsen was the greatest knight of Harlenor," said Aunt Pan. "And Gwendoven was Anoa''s Queen. They were both very kind to me when I was a girl. Then Anoa had them both butchered."


    "Why would he do that?" asked Relma.


    "Because they betrayed him. Orsen started it," said Aren.


    "There is no excusing what Anoa did, Father," said Pan.


    "He might have overreacted," admitted Aren. "But it was Orsen who drove the country into civil war. He created the situation. The situation would have been resolved if he''d just let Anoa burn Gwendoven at the stake."


    "He loved her," said Pan.


    "He loved another man''s wife," shot back Aren. "Now quiet, we''re near the gates."


    As it turned out, it really was magic. As you drew near the cobblestones, they became steadily less glamorous. It must have been some spell. Even so, the walls only became more imposing. Soon, they came before the gates.


    A postern opened, and a footman emerged to meet them. "Hail, Gail Arengeth, the sorcerer of sorcerers. I am to escort you to the Steward at once."


    "Hello to you too, Davian," said Aren. "I see you remain as formal as your grandfather."


    "But I address you only as you are bidden, you the noblest and greatest of Elranor''s servants," said Davian with a grin.


    "I don''t know about noblest," laughed Aren. "Lead on."


    "I shall. As soon as you and your companions have bathed and dressed," said Davian. "It would be unseemly for one of your noble blood to appear in such unbefitting rags."


    "My, you do have an interesting definition of ''at once.''" said Aunt Pan.


    "I know not of what you speak," said Davian. "I am merely performing my duties. Follow me."


    Relma looked to Aren. "Is he being sarcastic?"


    "I''m not really sure," admitted Aren. "I''ve never been able to read Davian. Or any of his family for that matter."


    They were led into side rooms, dressed in far finer outfits than any they had worn. Well, Aren and Aunt Pan had probably worn finer in the thousands of years they had been alive. And Ronald was a Lord''s son, so he had dressed in a similar quality.


    So it was really only Relma who was wearing something she hadn''t. Though halfling fashion was much less ornate and more practical.


    She now wore a flowing white dress that seemed as if it had been designed to fit her. Servants helped her get it on, and when she emerged, she was very pretty. "How do I look, Ronald?" she asked.


    "Like a princess, if you want to know," said Ronald, looking at his reddish doublet. "I hate this sort of outfit. Give me a traditional waistcoat any day."


    "I think it''s nice," said Relma.


    "That''s because it''s a novelty to you," said Ronald. "Wear this sort of thing a few more times, and you''ll be sick of it."


    "Well, don''t kill the moment for me now," said Relma.


    Aren emerged then. He was clad in flowing blue robes. His beard had been combed, and he wore a red hood. He looked very sorcerous. However, his expression was irritated. "Well, I''m glad you finished in less than three hours," said Aren, stalking up to them. "Pan seems to be taking her sweet time, as usual. I am pleased to see that you are more timely than her."


    Aunt Pan came in. She looked absolutely stunning, dressed in a flowing black dress. Her hair was tied up behind her head, and she looked regal. "I''m here, Father. You need not drive yourself to an early grave."


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "The way things are going, it can''t be early enough," said Aren. "Come, let''s go see what Benarus has to say. Is that acceptable, Davian?"


    "But, of course," said Davian. When had he gotten here?


    Then he led them through several more halls and into a grand throne room. The ceiling here was very high, and statues of ancient kings of Harlenor United stood tall on either side. There were several empty alcoves, however.


    At the far end was a throne upon a dais. Above the throne was a brilliant, shining white gem. But no one was seated in it. Instead, at the base of the throne was a simple black chair. Sitting in it was a balding black-haired man whose hands were clasped together. He looked at the ceiling as if contemplating the stars painted upon it.


    Davian coughed, and the man shook as if startled, then looked up.


    "My Lord Benarus," said Davian, "I present Gail Arengeth and his daughter Pandora to you. They are among the most well-documented of heroes. And some company of smaller note." He glanced at Ronald and Relma.


    "Very well, Davian. I will see them alone," said Benarus.


    "Excellent," said Davian. "Shall I order the guards to withdraw as well?"


    Guards? What guards? Relma looked around and saw no one.


    "Yes. That is what I meant by alone," said Benarus.


    "As you will," said Davian.


    Then he departed. There was a shifting of sorts in the room. But Relma still didn''t see anyone. Yet something must have left because Benarus watched it go.


    "...I hate that man," said Benarus finally. "No matter, Arengeth, I didn''t call you here because I wanted you to devise a solution. So you need not be concerned."


    "Really?" asked Aren. "Well, that is a refreshing change of place. What exactly did you desire my presence?"


    "I need your help with negotiations with Telix," said Benarus.


    "Negotiations?" asked Aren. "I am not in the mood for jests, Benarus."


    "I''m not making one," said Benarus. "The situation was never meant to get this far, but things got out of control."


    "How so?" asked Aren.


    Benarus opened his mouth. Then he shut it. Finally, he looked back to the ceiling and took a deep breath. "Very well, I''ll begin at the beginning. Some months ago, Adrian Wrynncurth contacted me. He informed me that he was yielding his domain in the Forest of Claws to the wolf demon Telix."


    "And you didn''t stop him?" asked Aren.


    "I thought it a foolish decision and argued against it," said Benarus. "However, Wrynncurth often consults Duke Vanion Gabriel. They exchange letters regularly. Something to do with his previous lives, I think."


    "Wait, why would Wrynncurth give Telix his holdings?" asked Relma.


    She realized suddenly that she had spoken out of turn. But to her surprise, Benarus glanced at her in tired amusement. "His daughter and her clan of dragons were moving to different parts. That left the forest unguarded, and it wasn''t long before gangs of bandits began to set up shop there. It was a nightmare putting them down. Wrynncurth wrote to Vanion for suggestions. Vanion suggested that he offer the forest to Telix in exchange for his fealty."


    "Well, that is the usual sort of Vanion move," said Aren.


    "Fealty from a son of Baltoth cannot be counted on," said Aunt Pan. "The will of the Dark God courses through all his children. But, please go on; I want to hear how Vanion managed to make things worse while keeping his hands clean."


    "Actually, things went splendidly at first," said Benarus. "The wolves stayed out of human lands, and Telix''s brood kept their hands off our flocks. But, of course, the first warning sign was when he didn''t destroy the bandits. Instead, he organized them and forced them to serve him directly.


    "Still better than my brother, Cervan, though. May he burn eternally in hell."


    "Let us not get into Cervan. I assume Telix broke the truce," guessed Aren.


    "Not directly, no," said Benarus. "Wrynncurth did that. One of the younger black dragons came down from the hills in a rage and attacked a village. He killed many villagers and devoured many cattle.


    "Fortunately, Argath and his protege, Tanith, were there. Apparently, they killed the beast."


    "Strange behavior," mused Aren. "Black dragons are usually more contemplative and less reckless than their brighter counterparts. What happened next?"


    "As soon as that happened, Telix''s brood launched a series of raids on the livestock," said Benarus. "There was a skirmish, and both sides took losses.


    "There are also tales of women being kidnapped and taken into the forests. We don''t know why. Fortunately, they are all commoners, so we haven''t had any irreplaceable losses."


    "I see," said Aren. "It seems obvious that Telix is using the situation Wrynncurth created to start a war. The usual sort of Calishan opportunism."


    "That was my thought as well," said Benarus. "The problem is that Telix is allied with Wrynncurth, and he maintains that we started it. So if I try to deal with Telix directly, I''ll end up attracting the wrath of Wrynncurth. He''s already furious about the death of his child.


    "Everyone I''ve sent up to try and speak with him has been driven back down the mountain. If things go on like this, I must have a war. I don''t want to fight Wrynncurth or Telix, let alone both at once."


    "Yes, yes, I see why you called me," said Aren. "This is one of those situations where you need an outsider to step in. Very well, I''ll see to it. But I want you to do something for me in return."


    "Name it," said Benarus.


    "I''d like you to take these two under your wing," said Aren. "The girl is Relma, and I want her trained as a knight. However, I also desire her to teach reading and writing. As well as other things administrators need to know."


    Benarus looked at Relma keenly. "Is this her?"


    "Yes," said Aren. "She already figured it out. The other is Ronald, and I want him taught as a knight."


    "Very well, Lord Arengeth," said Benarus. "We have an accord. I will see to it that they are taught well."


    "Excellent," said Aren. "I''ll set out first thing in the morning. Pan, you''ll come with me."


    "I think I should meet with Telix," said Pan. "I wouldn''t have much to add to the discussion anyway."


    "Are you sure?" asked Aren. "Telix is dangerous."


    "Quite. Son of Baltoth or not, Telix is a part of these negotiations, and I want to get a sense of what he wants," said Pandora. "Once we know his objectives, we''ll better know how to deal with him."


    "I suppose it must be done," muttered Aren. "It has been a long road for now, and I''d like to retire."


    "Of course," said Benarus. "Rooms have been prepared for your arrival."


    "My thanks," said Aren with a smile. "Assuming no one takes any more good advice from Duke Vanion, we may avoid more disaster."


    They were led away to luxurious rooms with soft sheets and pillows. But Relma was curious. Aren had mentioned this Duke Vanion before. "Aren, who is this Duke Vanion you always seem to curse."


    "A man with a silver tongue and ambitions as high as the stars," said Aren, who had started to carve a block of wood with a knife. "What he lacks is the character or skill for either. He''s one of those lords who appear now and then. They think they will reunite with Harlenor and become mighty kings of legend.


    "I''ve disliked him ever since we first met. And it''s only gotten worse since."


    "How did you meet?" asked Relma.


    Aren sighed. "It was after the First Battle of Desora that I met the real him. I''d gone to great trouble to rally the three Harlenorian Kingdoms. All our might was converging on Artarq to counter the Calishan armies.


    "Unfortunately, Vanion had other ideas. He defeated them in one battle and had tea and biscuits with the Calishan King. Then he proclaimed him a worthy opponent and convinced him to go home."


    "Isn''t that a good thing?" asked Relma.


    Aren looked up in surprise. "It could have been a decisive battle to set Baltoth back by years and years," he said. "The advantage was ours. Do you know how hard it is to get all three kingdoms to work together for even one battle? But Vanion ruined that to take all the credit for himself."


    "Father, that battle could have also been a horrible defeat," said Pan. "If things had gone badly, we could be fighting off an invasion from Baltoth. So the decision was the safest one."


    "Anoa and I didn''t forge Harlenor by playing it safe, Pan," said Aren. "There has been all too much thought of safety. It is safer to stay at home than hunt a wolf who attacks your flock. But that doesn''t make it the right decision.


    "I remember when I met with him. It had been raining, and he was drinking with his officers. Raynald De Chevlon was among them, oddly enough. When I arrived with Argath Marn and met with him, he was very courteous. There wasn''t a harsh word to be said to us, like a snake.


    "You could tell he was always turning every situation around in his mind, trying to find all the angles. That is why I suggested King Andoa find someone else when the matter of who should run Artarq came up. He sold the position to Argath instead and filled up the treasury. We were nearly bankrupt, so it averted a major crisis.


    "So it all worked out."


    "But he is the Governor of Artarq now," noted Relma. "I remember you said so."


    "Well, Vanion didn''t take it well," said Aren. "He made a pact with a demon and used it to expose a conspiracy. One was made by a man called Duke Borinius, who was an ally of House Marn. It discredited Argath by association. Then, rather than conceal it, he feigned repentance and sought pardon from King Andoa.


    "King Andoa supplied it and gave Brisgald to House Gabriel, and it was given to Arthur Gabriel. He is a good man but loyal to his family, and so is our antagonist. Later, Vanion managed to get his hands on Artarq. And now it has passed to him. Andoa always was far too nice for his own good."


    "How do you know he feigned repentance?" asked Relma.


    "Everything about the man is feigned," said Aren. "It''s why I don''t like him."


    "What do you think about him, Aunt Pan?" asked Relma.


    "I haven''t met him in truth," admitted Pan. "Father and I don''t usually stick around the same place for long, and I was busy in Escor then. Vampires and werewolves and all that." She paused. "Now, I think we should get to your lessons."


    Relma was hoping things would be more exciting than this.

 Chapter Five: Initiation

    The day after, Aren and Aunt Pan left on their respective errands. Ronald and Relma were brought before their new instructor. He was a very tall and thin dwarf, which meant he was stockier than either of them, though he was shorter than Relma. His hair was white, but he had only a few wrinkles. His eyes were gray, and a sword of simple but sturdy make at his side that looked used a lot.


    He eyed her carefully. "You are Relma, then?"


    "Yes, Sir Argath. That is my name," said Relma.


    "I knew your father," said Argath.


    Relma blinked. "You did?"


    "Yes," said Argath. "Hadleim and I were soldiers together in the campaigns against the satyrs. It was in the Black Marshes to the east. We fought many battles in the Black Watch. He was a good man, but we never got on well."


    "May I ask why?" asked Relma.


    Argath shrugged and adjusted his sword. "We had different views on how things should be. The usual sort of nonsense young men get up to. I rather wish we''d put those quarrels aside, though. I''m old now."


    "You aren''t that old," said Relma.


    "Age is in the mind," said Argath. "I was raised by humans, so while I''m in my prime as a dwarf, I think of myself as old. Unfortunate, but the truth." He turned his gaze to Ronald. "You are Ronald, the youngest son of Fulsof, then?"


    "Yes, sir," said Ronald. "I want to become a knight, like Sir Frederick."


    "I don''t think you do." mused Argath. "But Arengeth has his own designs for you, so you must. How much training have the two of you had?"


    "I''ve had instruction in using arms in the Sheriff''s militia," said Ronald. "So has Relma, though the weapons there were always small for her."


    "Ah, very well," said Argath before pulling a shield off a weapon rack and tossing it to Relma. "Relma, I want you to take this shield and try to defend me as best you can."


    "What-" began Relma as she slipped on the shield.


    Then Argath came at her. One of his blows struck her shield and nearly knocked her flat. Again and again, he struck at her, and she could hardly keep on her feet. Finally, he stopped.


    "Well, that is a problem," said Argath.


    "What is it?" asked Relma.


    "Well, you were taught by halflings. Being much smaller than us, halflings have a different way of fighting," said Argath. "You''ll have to adapt your fighting style a bit. There needs to be more focus on standing firm and more on yielding and recovering. You will only do good trying to overpower your enemy by strength alone. Not with your build; you are no berserker like Tanith.


    "I had a similar problem when training to be a knight. My build was thin for my race, so I needed more staying power. As a result, I learned to be more aggressive. Haldrenian Berserkang is a formidable technique if you have the rage for it.


    "But only if you have the rage.


    "Give the shield to your friend." Relma obeyed. "Ronald, same test."


    Ronald faired far better. He was able to keep his stance properly beneath Argath''s powerful blows. Finally, the white-haired dwarf stopped and sheathed his blade.


    "Well, you''ve done better," he said. "That''s to be expected, though. But, still, we only have a few halflings here besides Sir Frederick, and he''s gone away on campaign.


    "Now, for now, you are Steward Benarus''s guest. However, it is best if you room with the other trainees. I will make arrangements for you to be moved to the dormitories."


    "Must we?" asked Ronald.


    "Of course," said Argath. "You''ll have to face them sooner or later. Better sooner. Wait here, and I''ll return."


    And he left. They waited there for a while, unsure of what to do. Eventually, Argath returned. With him was a tall, black-haired girl a little older than Relma. She wore brown leather and had a confident air to her.


    "Relma, Ronald, this is Estela Vortegex of Escor," said Argath. "I''ve asked her to get you both settled."


    "Vortegex?" asked Relma, remembering the name. "Are you a Princess?"


    "If we have to be technical, yes," said Estela. "The youngest daughter. Sent to make my way in the world and all that nonsense. Come on, I''ll show you the way."


    Estela led them through the halls. As they walked, she explained things. "First of all, you should know that we have a system here. Older squires are waited on by younger ones. Usually, in the mornings, they have to bring water for baths and other such nonsense.


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    "You''ll probably be expected to do the same."


    "Why is that?" asked Ronald.


    Estela shrugged. "How should I know? I''ve never filled a tub in my life."


    "Why not?" asked Relma.


    "Well, the last time someone of equal rank tried to command me to do anything, I refused. He tried to thrash me but wasn''t nearly good enough for that," said Estela. "So he got together with three others and beat me down. I spent hours at the healer.


    "As soon as I was ready, I ambushed him later and paid him back in kind. Then I found the ones who helped him and did the same for them. Then he got together with some more of his friends. But I convinced some other squires to help me, and there was a huge fight."


    "And the Steward was alright with this?" asked Relma.


    "No, of course not. I got a thrashing and went without anything but the most basic food for a week. And was confined to my quarters," said Estela with a smile. "But it was worth it. After that, everyone feared me, and when people fear you, they don''t try to mess with you."


    "That doesn''t seem a good way to gain respect," mused Relma.


    "The Vortegex''s have had to fight for our throne for decades. Ever since we beat the Gabriels and got rid of those blood-drinking De Chevlons," said Estela. "Though I hear they''ve made common cause of late.


    "Did you know Argath trained Raynald De Chevlon? He says Raynald is even better at fighting than he is. Though I''m not sure, I believe it."


    "I didn''t know that," said Relma. "How good is Raynald?"


    "Some say even Anoa wouldn''t be a match for him," said Estela. "Though I''ll believe that when I see it. He killed sixteen trained nobles in two hours. Many of them were experienced members of the Fighters Guild of Antion.


    "That was just how he signed a letter of resignation. He''s incredible-


    "I mean, he''s a bloodthirsty brute. Everything in House De Chevlon we had to get rid of in Escor. You keep bickering and treacherous nobles in line through fear."


    "What about love?" asked Relma.


    "Eh, love never stopped anyone from hurting anyone else. Just look at Gwendoven, Orson and Anoa," said Estela. "Supposedly, they had great love, and Anoa killed the other two.


    "No, scaring people into obeying you is the way to go."


    "Yes, but history is filled with people who conquered their fears," said Relma. "You''ve got to give people some other reason to support you, or you''ll just paint a target on your back."


    "That''s where hostages come in," said Estela. "I think I like both of you. Neither of you will have to draw any water on my watch."


    "Thank you, but I think I''ll do the drawing all the same," said Relma. "I don''t want the others to think I believe myself above them."


    "I think I''d best go with Relma," said Ronald.


    At that moment, someone came around the corner. She was a lanky girl with blonde hair. She wore two swords on either side of her belt. She held two buckets in both hands, which she threw at them.


    Relma caught hers, while Ronald was hit in the face and landed hard.


    "You," said the girl, looking at them with bloodshot eyes, "you''re the idiots who come to train as squires, aren''t you? The ones those charlatans pulled strings for."


    "Aunt Pan and Aren are not charlatans-" began Relma.


    "Yes, you''re very naive; shut up," said the girl. "I''m Tanith Telus. I''ve killed dozens of Calishans. I''ve had my way with their women and put their children on stakes while their flaming villages burned. Take these buckets to the river and bring the water back."


    "Feel like practicing what you preach?" asked Estela.


    Relma hesitated. "Are you another squire?"


    "No," scoffed Tanith. "I''m a knight of Estal. Now go."


    Relma bowed quickly. "Of course."


    And that was how their tour was abruptly interrupted by them having to run out to the river. It took them out of their way, and carrying the buckets was difficult, to say the least. As they lugged them onward, Ronald gripped the buckets.


    "Relma, why did you have to make us go through this?" he asked. "This is a nightmare."


    "Because getting special privileges makes other people jealous of you. When someone is jealous, it is much harder to gain their trust," said Relma. "We want to fit in, Ronald, not make a big show of how much better we are."


    "Whatever you say," said Ronald. "But that Tanith girl didn''t even tell us where to bring the water."


    "She was probably just taking advantage of us," said Relma. "Messing with the new meat."


    "Then why did you agree?" asked Ronald.


    "Because if you stand up to someone stronger than you, things only get worse," said Relma. "There is a time and a place for all these things." Then she hesitated. In the distance, she saw a large group of armored men making for the black mountain.


    "What is it, Relma?" asked Ronald.


    Relma put down her water and rushed to them. "Wait, wait!"


    They looked up. "What is it, lass?"


    "You are heading to the Black Mountain," said Relma. "That''s black dragon territory."


    "We have no interest in dragons. I am Sir Edward De Cathe," said the man. "I seek to draw Lightning Trail in the skies above." S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Lightning Trail?" asked Relma.


    "I''m surprised you have not heard the tale," said Edward. "It is said that Lightning Trail, the sword of Elranor, has been driven into the skies. He that reaches the peak of the Black Mountain and draws the blade from the sky will rule Harlenor Reunited."


    "I know the story," said Relma. "Nobody has ever been able to draw Lightning Trail."


    "There''s always a first time. And I have performed more than my share of great deeds," said Edward.


    "I don''t think it works that way," said Relma. "Or does it? Look, couldn''t you delay your trip by a week or so? We''re on the verge of war with Telix and Wrynncurth. If it comes to it, you could do a few more great deeds before making the journey. And it will probably be a lot safer when you make it then."


    Edward hesitated. "...We have traveled for many months. I suppose I could wait a few days more. What is your name?"


    "Relma Artorious," said Relma. "I''m a squire in the Stewards castle."


    "My thanks for the advice," said Edward. "I shall do something about the woes of this land, and when it is liberated, I shall achieve my destiny."


    "Very kind of you, sir," said Relma. "If you''ll excuse me, I must return to work."


    When they got back to the gate, Tanith was waiting. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. "You''re late. Care to explain yourself."


    "I''m sorry," said Relma. "A group of knights was about to charge off up the Black Mountain. I had to talk them out of it. If I hadn''t, they''d have been devoured for sure."


    "...Hmm, as excuses go, I''ve heard better," said Tanith. Then she grabbed both buckets and poured them into the ground. She did the same for Ronald. "Anyway, enjoy your stay."


    Then she walked off.


    "It took us a long time to get all that water," said Ronald, "and she just poured it all over the ground. What a vicious-" He cut off what he was about to say. "As if she''s any better than us!"


    "Let it pass, Ronald," said Relma.


    Estela came back. "Oh, I should mention that Tanith enjoys tormenting the servants. And even if you accepted my offer, I couldn''t do anything about it.


    "If she told me to move water, I''d do it. Now, should we continue the tour?"


    "I''d appreciate that," said Relma.


    Some people were just unpleasant.

 Chapter Six: Taken

    After her somewhat lousy start, things got worse for Relma. It was nice to practice with swords and shields. It certainly was better scullery work and odd jobs. But Relma soon learned it didn''t catch her interest as hoped. Argath Marn was a hard trainer and kept them drilling constantly.


    Relma found she was learning a great deal from him rapidly. Her skill with a spear increased a great deal. And she learned the basics of wielding a sword quickly. But quick or not, there was always more to learn. And Argath was always pressing her to learn it.


    Tanith made it worse. Not because Relma had been chosen for her ire. But because the blonde girl was enormously creative.


    As it turned out, Tanith was perhaps the most hated person in the castle. Or at least among the servants. What Relma saw of the knights told her that she was well-liked by them. She saw Tanith and the others drinking in the mead halls and telling stories of her exploits. Tanith''s had apparently been bloody, and Relma wondered if they were true. She hoped not.


    Unfortunately, Tanith''s entertainments were more than just drinking and tale-telling. The girl took delight in forcing people who were lower ranked than her to do all kinds of pointless chores.


    "I don''t understand why the Steward tolerates her," said Relma.


    "She was brought here by Lord Argath Marn," said Estela. "Apparently, they both fought together in the same campaign."


    "But why doesn''t he reign her in?" asked Relma. "Or why doesn''t the Steward have her leave?"


    "Tanith is a good swordsman," said Estela.


    "That''s it?" asked Relma.


    "An excellent swordsman," said Estela. "One of the best. She''s a valuable addition to the guard. And she mostly focuses on people who are beneath notice. She can get away with things as long as she doesn''t hurt anyone."


    "Where did she come from anyway?" asked Relma. "And why does she think Aren and Aunt Pan are charlatans?"


    "She was raised in Carn Gable, actually," said Estela. "The household of Duke Vanion. Personal friends with his son, apparently."


    "So what''s she doing all the way down here?" asked Relma.


    "She came here with Lord Marn," said Estela.


    "That reminds me," said Relma, "what is Marn doing all the way down here in the south? He was ruling Artarq once, wasn''t he?"


    "He was," said Estela. "But Duke Vanion revealed a conspiracy against King Andoa II by Duke Borinius. Marn was personal friends with Borinius, and he was discredited by association.


    "He lost his status as governor and has had to make his living as a mercenary since. Steward Benarus hired him to train his soldiers a few years ago."


    "But Marn said he fought alongside my father in the Black Marsh campaign," said Relma.


    "You''ll have to ask him," said Estela. "That was a long time ago. Younger sons usually go adventuring to fight in faraway places. I doubt Marn is the exception, even if he is adopted."


    "In any case," said Relma, "if Marn and Vanion hate each other so much, why did he take a beast like Tanith under his wing?"


    "Tanith is the favorite student of Raynald De Chevlon," said Estela. "The swordmaster of Carn Gable. Raynald and Marn are on good terms thanks to fighting together in several campaigns.


    "It''s probably for Raynald''s sake."


    "This is absurdly overcomplicated," said Relma.


    "It is complicated," said Estela. "But the game of kings and nobles is complicated by necessity. It takes a bit of work to follow, I know."


    After a few weeks, Relma began getting a handle on everything. Somewhat. She could discern which names were essential and which were unimportant. Some of the noble houses also stood out. Pretty soon, she had a good understanding of House Gabriel. Through them, she learned about their feud with House De Chevlon.


    Relma felt she could study this forever and still had no idea what she was discussing.


    And then, one day, Aren came walking through the gates in his usual garb. His cloak was a little singed, and his beard was a little shorter. Like he''d had to cut it. She met him. "Aren, you''re back!" she cried. She hugged him.


    "Yes, dear girl," said Aren. "I am back for the moment."


    Relma broke the embrace. "What happened? Did you get through to Wrynncurth?"


    "Somewhat," admitted Aren. "I''ve convinced him to pressure Telix to stop his raids, but that only treats the symptom. At the least, I''ve learned what the mess was about."


    "What was it?" asked Relma.


    "Some fool adventurer broke into the dragon''s lair and stole some of the treasure from the lair," said Aren. "Black dragons seal their soul within their hoard to stave off Alchara''s curse. Whoever it was then distributed the gold across the villagers'' fields.


    "If I get my hands on the wretch, I''ll have words with him; he might not survive. Though he may be dead already."


    "What was that about a curse?" asked Relma.


    "What has your aunt been teaching you, girl?" asked Aren. "The Goddess Alchara of the High Elves laid a curse on the entire black dragon race. It doomed all of them to a slow-wasting death. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say she created the black dragons through the curse. Either way, Wrynncurth found a way to beat off the spell by sealing his soul inside gold. Of course, as the dragon gets larger, they need more treasure.


    "Robbing a black dragon''s hoard is a good way to earn their eternal hatred."


    "What happened to Smyngoth anyway?" asked Relma. "Is he really sleeping beneath the Black Mountain?"


    "He is," said Aren. "And if you are wise, you will never consider waking him up. He was always an unreasonable fellow when angry, and the disease did no favors to his sanity. Now I have to speak with the steward.


    "Where is your aunt?"


    "She hasn''t gotten back yet," said Relma.


    "Odd. It''s far longer to Wrynncurth than to the forest," said Aren. "Once I''ve spoken with Benarus, I''ll investigate the matter."


    At that moment, Ronald rushed up to them. He looked like he was in a panic. "Relma! Where have you been?"


    "What is it, Ronald?" asked Relma.


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    "Sir Argath has called for us," said Ronald. "He wants everyone to practice their shield wall formation."


    "Again?" asked Relma. "All right, let''s go."


    As they ran to get their kits together, Aren kept pace. He didn''t run, just walked in a leisurely fashion. Yet, somehow he was right alongside them as they sprinted to their quarters.


    "Speaking of which, how is your training going?" asked Aren.


    "It''s far harder," said Relma as she donned her armor. "I have to spend every day training for war instead of just off days. But on the brighter side, I don''t have to do scullery work."


    "Less talking, more training, now come on!" said Ronald.


    The practice was more grueling than usual. By the end, Ronald looked like he wanted to curl into her bed and die. However, first, they had to put away everything they had been using in the proper place. Argath was very insistent about that. Relma was very tired, but it didn''t get to her all that much.


    This was good because they had all kinds of other duties to attend to in the meantime. At last, they finished and dragged themselves back to their beds. The sun sank beyond the walls, bathing the world in orange light.


    "Ugh, I am so tired," said Ronald. "I swear if I have to do one more day of this, I will break."


    "Oh, come on, Ronald. It isn''t that bad," said Relma. "At least we''re away from home."


    "Easy for you to say," said Ronald. "You''re family came with you."


    "And immediately went off to negotiate with demons," noted Relma.


    "I guess," said Ronald. "How do you think all this is going to turn out?"


    "Aren and Aunt Pan will take care of it," said Relma. "They''re two of the most powerful sorcerers in the world. Maybe the most powerful. They can handle it."


    "I hope you''re right," said Ronald. "Maybe I''ll get to go home if they finish this." Relma looked up in surprise. "Don''t you like training to be a knight?"


    "No," admitted Ronald. "I preferred training with the halfling militia. I knew the people there. I don''t know anyone here."


    "Well, why don''t you get to know them?" asked Relma.


    "Good night," grunted Ronald, meaning the conversation was ending.


    "Good night," said Relma.


    She stayed in her bed, looking up at the stonework of the ceiling for a long time. As she did, she wondered why you could never remember falling asleep. Or waking up, for that matter. The moments between dream and reality didn''t exist. She must have fallen asleep at some point because she awoke with a start, only to be forced back down. Above her was a shadowy figure in the shape of a man. But there were ears like those of a wolf and fur.


    "Evening, milady." said a growling voice.


    "Who are you-" began Relma.


    Then, a rag was forced to her lips, and everything darkened.


    When Relma came to, there was a gag in her mouth, and she was shaken. Gel Carn was shrinking into the distance. Already, several villages were between her and it. Relma struggled, but her legs were tied together. Her arms were forced behind her back, and she was carried over one shoulder. A clawlike furry hand was gripping her from behind. She kicked and screamed, trying to free herself, but the ropes on her were far too tight. Whoever it was clenched a hand in surprise. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Don''t bother." said the voice. "We''re already near the eaves of the forest. No one can hear you." Relma kept screaming. Partially in case, he was wrong and partly to spite him.


    "That cloth should have kept you silent for hours," muttered whoever it was.


    Relma kept kicking. She managed to get him in the stomach, and he keeled over and dropped her. Relma landed on the ground and began to inch away. However, before she could get far, he was on her. He turned her around, and she saw her captor.


    He was incredibly handsome. His hair was wild and white as the snow around his tan skin. He looked about her age, and his eyes were a fiery red. She kicked him in the stomach again. Or tried. This time, he caught it.


    "You really aren''t going to stop, are you?" asked her captor, catching her legs between his arms. "Stop kicking. It''s irritating."


    Relma pulled herself up and headbutted him in the face. Stunned, he stepped back a few paces, and she began to inch away again. Then he was on her again and forced that damn rag into her face again. "You know, I think I like you. You''ve got spirit."


    This time, Relma did not fall unconscious. Instead, she found her limbs going loose as he hoisted her over his shoulder and kept moving. He sprinted with incredible speed and soon passed the eaves of the forest. Then he turned aside and leaped into the trees. Relma was scraped by the bushes.


    Why was he hiding?


    "Is something wrong?" asked someone.


    "I sense something," said Sir Frederick''s voice. "A lingering darkness. Be careful." Relma knew that rescue was not far. She just had to shout. But she could hardly summon the will to move. Move. Move. Move.


    Something surged through her. Relma felt the toxins within her purge themselves from her body. So she started yelling at the top of her lungs.


    "Quiet!" hissed the boy. "Do you want us to get caught?"


    "Mmmph!" answered Relma.


    "Right," said the boy, "stupid question."


    Then he leaped out from the underbrush. Before him was Sir Frederick and another soldier. They held their weapons at the ready.


    "So it is you, Ajax," said Frederick. "Once again, your vile nature has made itself known."


    "Frederick, I see you''re as self-righteous as always," said Ajax.


    "I will not allow you to devour that maiden!" said Frederick.


    "Devour?" asked Ajax. "I''m not going to eat her! I''m just going to force her to marry me and use her as a hostage to keep Gail Arengeth out of Father''s business!"


    Frederick charged forward, bringing around his spear. But Ajax vaulted over the blow and made for the forest. However, Frederick spun his spear, and Ajax was hit in the legs. The wolf boy caught himself on his left hand and pushed himself into the air. Relma was thrown off to land hard on the ground. It hurt.


    Ajax took a stance, baring his claws.


    "Vile fiend!" said Frederick. "Are you alright, milady?"


    "Mmmph," said Relma.


    Out of the trees came dozens upon dozens of men trailing their arrows at Ajax. The wolf boy smirked as he looked around and raised his hands.


    "You are surrounded, beast," said Frederick. "Surrender and tell us where you have taken the others, and you may live?"


    Ajax''s smile widened. "Surrounded, hmm? Have you looked around lately?"


    There was an unearthly howl that resounded through the wood. The foresters looked up in fear, their hands shaking. Relma felt afraid as well, overwhelmingly so. Except it was somehow separate from her.


    It wasn''t separate from the others, however. They screamed in horror and fled toward the open ground.


    "Telix!" screamed someone. "Telix has come!"


    Only Frederick remained where he was. He rushed toward Relma, but Ajax barred his path. Then, with a swipe of his claw, he broke Frederick''s spear, and the knight drew his sword.


    Even so, it quickly became apparent that Ajax was on the defensive. The halfling knight hacked and slashed. As a result, Ajax was rapidly losing ground. And yet he never stopped smiling, even as he took a wound to the hand.


    A presence drew near as Frederick and Ajax fought back and forth. Something which spoke of terror beyond imagination. And Relma realized that Frederick wasn''t like her. He felt the same terror the others had. He wasn''t separate from it like she was.


    He just stayed to fight anyway.


    And then, out of the forests, emerged a creature. It was vaguely humanoid. But it was far more wolf than Ajax. Its two eyes were glowing blood red. Frederick staggered back as hundreds of wolves and creatures like Ajax came out of the woods.


    He took a stance and waited for the end.


    "Leave now, knight," said Telix. "While I still allow it."


    Frederick held his ground for a moment. He looked to Relma. There was no reason he should die here. Not for nothing. She shook her head when he tried to make it for her.


    Finally, he sheathed his sword. "So be it. I shall return."


    "Believe what you will," said Telix. "Begone."


    Frederick turned and departed. The wolves made way for him, snarling as he passed. When he was gone, Telix came forward and ruffled Ajax''s hair. "Well, son, you managed to get into trouble before the end." "Sorry, Father," said Ajax. "I figured the worst was over once I slipped past Arengeth."


    "You were largely right," said Telix. "Still, it was well done of you to learn all this. Your vigil on Pandora has not been wasted. Take the girl, and let us return to the lair immediately."


    Vigil on Pandora. Then, someone had been watching them that day. It had been Ajax. Relma started screaming again to spite them.


    "Could you silence her somewhat?" asked Telix.


    "I gagged her and used all the knockout poison I had; what more do you want?" asked Ajax. "The only reason they heard her was because it wore off. Anya." He glared at a tall, wolf girl with black hair and a slim frame. She was clad in deerskin and had bright red eyes.


    The girl met his gaze. "Try completing your task faster, and it won''t happen."


    "It should not have worn off," said Telix. "I taught you poisons better than that." He looked around. "We should go at once. Pandora is distracted, but we must adjust our strategy if she learns of this before we are prepared."


    "As you will, Father," said Anya.


    One thing after another.

 Chapter Seven: Imprisonment

    Relma awoke, feeling very sore with an aching back and hair in front of her face. As she roused herself, to her surprise, she was lying on a clean linen bed rather than a wolf den. Her arms and legs were unbound, the ceiling above her appeared to be wood, and an earthy smell was in the air. As her vision cleared, she saw that it was living wood.


    As though hundreds of trees had been grown together to form a building. Though there were no twigs or growth inside.


    She stood up. "Where am I? "The question left her lips. Depending on the answer, she could have a serious problem.


    "In the domain of the wolf god, Telix," said a voice. Relma looked up to see a brown-haired girl her age. "I''m Marsha. Who are you?"


    Relma looked around. She was in a large room. The floor was of packed earth, and dozens of other women were within it. They were going about various mundane tasks for the most part. Many were chores such as washing and cleaning.


    "Are you alright?" asked Marsha.


    "My name is Relma Artorious," said Relma. "What is this place? I mean, is there any way out?"


    "We''re in the underground tunnels where they keep the women they''ve taken," said Marsha. "Nobody knows what they intend to do with us, but we haven''t been able to escape."


    "Ajax told me he intended to marry me," said Relma.


    "Well, you''re luckier than most, then," said Marsha.


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "Well, have you seen Ajax?" asked Marsha. "I mean, I know he has those wolf ears, but-"


    "You''re joking?" asked Relma. "Have you never heard that beauty is only skin deep?"


    "Sure, but it''s still beautiful," said Marsha. "And real beauty takes effort to keep that way, so it speaks of character. He certainly is well-groomed."


    "How long have you been here?" asked Relma, suspecting the answer was long.


    "Erm, three days," said Marsha. That short a time? "There were others who were here, but they were taken away. We thought maybe they had been eaten, but Telix wouldn''t do anything like that. So we''re to become part of the pack."


    "Pack?" asked Relma.


    "Telix is a son of Baltoth and a wolf," said Marsha. "His children take on both traits. Or that''s what Ajax says, anyway. He claims that we''ll all join them soon."


    "You don''t seem very upset about it," noted Relma.


    "Well, we should feel that way, I suppose. But... something stops us," said Marsha. "When you come here the first day, you''ll look for ways to escape and be terrified. But then, as time passes, you realize it isn''t all so bad."


    "We''re being held captive by demon wolves who may or may not want to eat us," noted Relma.


    "But Ajax said he''d marry you," said another girl, sounding jealous.


    Something was wrong here. These girls were not well. "He said nothing about you, though. So let us try to find a way to escape."


    "Well, if he did eat me, well, I suppose there are worse fates," said Marsha. She sounded wistful. "I mean, someone that beautiful deserves to eat who he likes."


    "Okay. I''m going to look around," said Relma, deciding she didn''t want anything more to do with this. "Is there anything strange about this place you can tell me?"


    "Well, I''ll show you around," said Marsha. "Very nice and comfortable. They set aside beds for everyone who comes here. Most of us are lucky if we have a bedroll or straw. And meals are brought in every so often. They''re much higher quality than anything we''ve eaten at home.


    "Though time passes strangely around here."


    "Maybe you''re not paying attention," noted Relma. Then she noticed a symbol on the far wall. It was a glowing, intricate rune that mesmerized the eyes. "What''s that?"


    "That?" asked Marsha. "Oh, that provides the light."


    "I''ve seen runes like this before in my Aunt Pan''s house," said Relma, approaching it.


    "You have?" asked Marsha.


    "Yes. Once, a man who served in the wars was having a fit," said Relma. "He kept seeing enemies all around him, and he''d become a danger to himself. So Aunt Pan created a rune like this and had him sit near it with a cup of tea for a few minutes daily.


    "It helped him a lot. He was a lot calmer afterward."


    "Well, that just shows you that Ajax and Telix aren''t so bad," said Marsha.


    "I asked her about it afterward," said Relma. "She told me that it was a rune made to make one calm. Someone who spent time near it gradually accepted things as they were. The longer someone was near it, the longer it lasted."


    "So, what''s your point?" asked Marsha.


    "Well, whatever Telix brought you all here for, don''t you think maybe he''s trying to soften you up?" asked Relma. "Make you accept your fate?"


    "That... that makes sense," said Marsha. Then, for the first time, she looked scared. "We''ve got to get out of here!"


    "Calm down," said Relma. "If we make a fuss, they''ll notice. Keep reminding yourselves why you are so calm about all this for now. I''m going to see if I can find a way out. Those runes make a light. Maybe I can turn it into a fire or something and have it burn us a way out."


    "Do you know how to use runes?" asked Marsha.


    "No," admitted Relma. "But runes are just the manifestation of a spirit''s power. The sorcerer isn''t the one using the power. So if I can get through to the spirit, I can get them to do the work instead.


    "She paused. "It can''t be that hard. Aunt Pan always makes it look easy."


    She made her way up to the rune and tried to remember how Aunt Pan did it. Setting one hand to it, she closed her eyes and decided to put forth her mind. Nothing happened. She tried pushing her consciousness forward.


    Nothing happened. Evidently, it was challenging. Then Relma felt something, an ordered mind. It looked at her in irritation, and Relma realized it was listening. "Who are you?"


    There were better ways to take charge.


    "I am the spirit of the wood, Akaton," said the spirit. His voice was harsh and cold.


    "So you''re working with Telix?" asked Rema.


    "I serve Adrian Wrynncurth," said Akaton. "He has given this domain to Telix, so I serve him."


    "Why are you helping him keep us captive?" asked Relma. Of course, that was a stupid question.


    "I serve Adrian Wrynncurth," said Akaton. "He has given this domain to Telix, and so I serve him. Telix has commanded that those within this room be held until they are ready to become part of the pack."


    Relma had the feeling Akaton had a winning personality. "Do you know what is happening to the girls taken away from here?"


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    "I serve Adrian Wrynncurth. He has given this domain to Telix, and so I serve him," said Akaton. "Telix has commanded that I tell no one what has occurred."


    "Right, okay," said Relma. "So why do you serve Wrynncurth?"


    "Once I served the line of Anoa the Bright," said Akaton. "He commanded that I acknowledge Adrian Wrynncurth as overlord. So when Andoa''s last heir died, I served Adrian Wrynncurth. He gave this domain to Telix, and so I serve him."


    "So if another heir of Anoa the Bright were to appear, you''d have to obey them, right?" asked Relma.


    Akaton remained silent for a moment. "...I serve Adrian Wrynncurth. He has given this domain to Telix, so I serve him."


    "Is that a no?" asked Relma. So why did he keep harping on the same thing?


    "I serve Adrian Wrynncurth," said Akaton. "The line of Anoa the Bright ceased to exist. Even if they reappeared, they would not possess any more right to this domain."


    "Why not?" asked Relma.


    "Harlenor has fractured," said Akaton. "The three Kingdoms have all splintered into still smaller domains. No man at arms now pledges his loyalty to Anoa the Bright but rather to his legacy. An heir of Anoa the Bright would not hold any authority over the land. It has passed beyond them.


    "I serve Adrian Wrynncurth. He has given this domain to Telix, so I serve him."


    Relma took her hand off the rune and looked at Marsha. "Okay, yeah, the spirits of the land aren''t going to help. Let me think. Do we have any other resources here?" She paused and looked around. Something was missing.


    And then she realized what it was. "Hey, Marsha. Where is the door?"


    "There," said Marsha, pointing to a flat wall. "It doesn''t look like one, I know."


    At that moment, there was a moaning sound. The wall began to separate, like the roots of a tree changing over many years. And yet, it was all happening in an instant. A door was opened, and into the room was a massive figure. He was like Ajax but far larger, half the size of Telix. He had a long black beard and one eye that was pure white. His tan face was all scarred, and all the women shrank back as he approached.


    "Who is that?" asked Relma.


    "Rustoff," said Marsha. "Telix''s eldest child."


    Rustoff looked up. And as if by some signal, all the women put themselves into lines so Rustoff could see each of them. Relma was compelled to join the line but shrank back into the shadows instead. She tried to remain silent and out of sight. Like she''d done when she''d accidentally ruined Aunt Pan''s best cooking pot.


    Her luck must have changed since then because Rustoff didn''t even notice her. The half-wolf strode forward, grim-faced, and motioned. Marsha and three other girls approached him as though in a trance. "Telix has commanded your presence at once. You four will accompany me."


    "Where are we being taken?" asked Marsha.


    Rustoff eyed her. "You are to be given a choice."


    He led Marsha and the others through the doors. Relma broke from the shadows as he walked through and ran for the door. But even as they passed between it, the doors began to snap shut. Relma hit it too late and fell back, clutching her face.


    Even if she''d gotten through, it would have been no good. Rustoff would have surely noticed her. Still, at least she knew where the door was.


    As she stood up, she thought about things. Akaton obviously was going to be of little help. But Aunt Pan had always taught her that spirits were actually the combined will of the land. The thing you talked about was just one aspect of that will.


    She could talk to someone else.


    Relma raised a hand and exerted her will. "Open." Nothing happened. "Slide." Nothing happened. "Move aside." Strangely enough, nothing happened. "Um, okay, let me think..." The words came to her suddenly. "Open in the name of Anoa the Bright!" Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As she said them, her voice was harsh and vicious. As if spoken through her by someone else entirely. The door shuddered before her and slid aside as if in fear. Relma blinked. "...Hey, that actually worked. I''d better get after them quickly. I wish I had a sword, though."


    It would only do her a little good. She''d had a few weeks of training in swords. Halflings trained in spears and axes.


    As she walked, she found that presence within her was guiding her. She discovered she could catch up to Rustoff swiftly yet remain in the shadows. Yet, melding into them was so easy. Like someone else was doing it.


    Could Anoa be working through her?


    But if he was, why was he so good at stealth? Relma had always imagined him as a king in shining armor from whom light radiated. He had never seemed the kind to stab a man in the back.


    "I left my old self behind a long time ago. What remains now is a shadow, a memory that can scarcely be recalled."


    The words came back to her. Anoa wasn''t who people thought he was. He''d risen to power, fighting an empire of elves with better weapons. Better training. Better magic and dragons on their side. Of course, he''d used every weapon at his disposal. Charging in sword drawn was a luxury of superior powers.


    And even they only did it when they were stupid.


    The tunnels stretched onward. Every so often, they came across guards, and Relma found herself slipping past them. More than ever, she felt like a spectator in her own body. She was moving, and she willed it. But it was like she was a puppet on strings. Or a puppet on strings. "Why are our hands not being bound?" asked Marsha suddenly, voice afraid.


    "My father, Telix, trusts you not to abuse his hospitality," said Rustoff, glancing back with his good eye. "He has brought you here to make a choice. That is all."


    "I see," said Marsha. "I am... flattered by his generosity."


    "And so you should be," said Rustoff. "Come, he awaits us beyond this door."


    What door? All Relma saw was a massive, impassable wall. One that began to slide aside before them to reveal an enormous throne room. Only the pillars were trees. The walls were lined with roots. And upon a massive throne of animal skulls lounged Telix.


    The wolf demon was devouring an entire cow. With a single bite, he ripped it in half and swallowed it. Bones and all. He wiped away the blood with a white tablecloth and then drank from a chalice filled with red liquid. It didn''t look like wine.


    "Ah," said Telix as they entered, "lambs blood. There is nothing better. "Welcome, Rustoff, my son. And welcome to you, ladies. I hope you will grace us with your presence for far longer than you originally planned."

 Chapter Eight: Telixs Offer

    Relma felt a little afraid as she trailed behind them through the halls. It wasn''t the detached fear she''d felt with other things. This was a genuine fear; all she could do was stay in the shadows and not bolt away in terror.


    She could only imagine what Marsha and the others must have been feeling. They were kneeling before the wolf god, far closer. You could feel his hot breath in the air, making Relma shudder. There were many terrible stories of Telix and his adventures in Escor, particularly during the civil war, where he had eradicated House Star. Those who behaved with dishonor paid the ultimate price at his claws. Relma knew well not to make an enemy of him.


    "You are... Telix," gasped Marsha.


    "Yes," said Telix. "I am the Master of the Pack. The son of Baltoth. The Lord of Wolves. And I did not bring you here lightly.


    "Rest assured. It is a matter of great import."


    "What... what matter?" asked Marsha, voice trancelike.


    "How shall I put this?" asked Telix, putting down his cup and leaning down to look at them with dark eyes. "Although I am a son of Baltoth, my loyalty has never been to Calisha. I was sired while he was hunting for Anoa IX. And although I am of his blood, I do not serve him.


    "For a long time, I wandered the lands of Harlenor. I have had many enemies among those who dwell within it and many friends. But, unfortunately, with the rise of tensions with the Calishans, I am less welcome.


    "And as my pack grew, it became dangerous to move about.


    "So it was that I decided to make a place for myself. And at long last, I have succeeded with the help of Adrian Wrynncurth."


    "But..." gasped Marsha. "You attacked our homes..."


    "Indeed, I did. However, it was nothing personal. One must defend their allies. When one of Adrian''s children was killed, I was obligated to respond in kind," said Telix. He lowered a massive claw to force Marsha to look up at him.


    "Why... why are we here?" asked Marsha.


    "That is an interesting question," said Telix. "Although my pack has swelled in numbers, I desire mortal servants. I want to create a small kingdom of my own in time. When I came to this forest, I found many bandits and vagabonds wandering it. They were thieving off the countryside.


    "Adrian desired that I destroy them. However, I found a more artful solution.


    "My children and I hunted them, finding the strongest and best of them. These we blessed with our will, gradually transforming them into greater beings. You would know them as werewolves. Where once they were murderers and thieves, now their minds and bodies have been reshaped in my image."


    He motioned, and a group of men came forward from the shadows. They were like Ajax, but they were more wolves or more men. Their transformation could have been better.


    "I desire that these bandits yield and become the subjects in my dominion," said Telix. "Unfortunately, most of them are men. There are too few females among them to make a sustainable population."


    "You... wish us... to become their wives..." guessed Marsha.


    "I leave such arrangements to nature," said Telix dismissively. "No, I will merely offer you a choice. A unique chance.


    "If you accept this chance, then one of my children will pass their blessing onto you. In so doing, you will become like us. Your senses will be sharpened, and your life will be extended. And you will be blessed with my divine will.


    "Your existence will be given a purpose far beyond any other."


    The other girls arose as if in a trance. "Don''t listen to him!" shouted Marsha. "He''s a demon! He''ll corrupt us!"


    The girls hesitated. Telix laughed, a sound that resounded throughout the hall. The girls cowered before it, except Marsha, who kept standing. Relma wanted to run but also to stay to see the rest.


    "That is certainly one interpretation." said the wolf demon. "This brings me to the other choice. You may refuse my offer, and you will be escorted freely back to your villages." Marsha looked up at him. "You''d just let us go?"


    "Of course. Anyone strong-willed enough to resist my will deserves to be rewarded," said Telix. "Of course, of all those who have stood before me, not one has resisted my will. Come, join us. Become one of our pack and found a new nation. Once you have become one of my brood, I shall grant you leave to do as you like, to see your family and live as you will."


    Silence fell over the four women. One of them finally arose. "I... I will join..."


    "As... will... I..." said another.


    Marsha shuddered as their gaze fell on her. "No... No, I will not. Don''t listen to him! He wants to turn us against Elranor, against everything we stand for!"


    "Neither will I," said the fourth girl.


    One of those who had spoken shifted and then stepped back. "Yes... You''re right, Marsha. I won''t be part of this."


    Telix leaned back in his seat and took another sip of lambs'' blood. Then he smiled, revealing a mouth of sharp teeth. "So be it. Seldom have I seen such a strong will among the mortal races. Rustoff, return them to their domain tomorrow. As for the other, take her to the chamber of preparation."


    The girls were led away. Some past Relma, others slipping into a side passage. Relma wondered if she''d see any of them again. However, Rustoff remained. He looked up to Telix. "We have had news. The spirits of the wood will not side with the Heir of Kings. They believe her claim on them outdated."


    "Excellent," said Telix. "Adrian will be pleased to hear that. Now, where is Pandora?"


    "Still dallying among the villages," said Rustoff. "She has been sitting upward to help them. It has made stealing from their flocks very difficult. However, she will be furious when she learns of what we have done."


    "You worry too much, my son," said Telix. "We are strong and can handle this."


    Rustoff shook his head. "Pandora is powerful. When she learns that we have captured her charge, she will surely come after us with much fire and fury."


    "I do not think she will be in such haste to attack us," said Telix. "No one wants this situation to escalate. The days when you could grab a sword and kill all your enemies without fear of consequences are long past.


    "We have an alliance with Adrian Wrynncurth. If Pandora attacks us directly, it will be the start of a war Gel Carn can''t win."


    "And what of marrying Ajax to her?" asked Rustoff. "This whim of his doesn''t sit right with me."


    "She is the Heir of Kings," said Telix. "Mixing our blood with that of Anoa the Brights will give us great power. Especially when Harlenor Reunited comes about."


    "That is what concerns me," said Rustoff. "It may be considered escalating the situation in itself. On the other hand, we may wish to merely take her as a political prisoner."


    "Oh, come on, Rustoff!" laughed a voice. "I kidnapped her fair and square!"


    And Ajax walked into the room. Rustoff turned to regard him with irritation. He was about to speak, but Telix raised a hand. "Your brother has a point, Ajax. We''ll hold off on the marriage for a time, at least. Then, once we''re better secured, we''ll go through it. Besides, it will be better if she''s convinced over to our side first."


    "Father, with respect, what if Pandora is reckless?" asked Rustoff. "She and Arengeth are used to having their word be law. If they decide to attack us, what will we do?"


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    "Hmm," Telix seemed to withdraw into himself. His eyes closed as he contemplated. Relma wondered what elaborate plan he would come up with? What magnificent feat of cunning would be utilized? He opened his eyes. "In that case, I''ll kill both of them, and we won''t have a problem."


    Rustoff put his hands over his eyes. "They are the most powerful sorcerers in Harlenor."


    "Actually, I''m fairly certain that title belongs to Rusara of the Dust Elves," said Telix. "Aren would be second place, and Pandora third."


    "My only intention is that we have a plan to deal with the worst-case scenario," said Rustoff.


    "Oh, very well, we''ll make arrangements just in case," said Telix. "Perhaps poisons which dull the mind? Such a thing would be lethal to a sorcerer."


    Suddenly, Relma was seized with a desire to leave. She knew she could get information by staying. But Relma had the feeling that waiting any longer would get her discovered. So, letting herself be guided away from the throne room, she went through the halls.


    She did not know this place. And the longer she was stalking around, the more likely she''d be caught. She couldn''t find her own way. So what was she supposed to do now? Ask for directions?


    That might work. Everyone knew she had been taken prisoner. So, there was a good reason for her to be around the halls. Not unescorted, but she could work around these. So why not ask for directions?


    As she walked, she saw a familiar face. That wolf girl, Anya, from before. She was leaning against a wall, munching on a rabbit, raw. There was blood in her mouth.


    This was it. Either she''d believe Relma, or she wouldn''t. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Relma emerged from the shadows. "Excuse me."


    "You!" said Anya, standing with a start. "You''re that girl Ajax was after. Speak quickly."


    "Sorry," said Rema, "I was told I would be escorted back to my village, but I fell behind and got lost. Do you think you could show me the way out?"


    Anya blinked and looked her up and down. "...I see. I suppose anyone foolish enough to refuse Lord Telix isn''t what one could call bright. I''ll take you to the entrance, but no further."


    And Anya led Relma away through the halls of living wood. It was far too easy for Relma''s liking, but she knew she was being taken away from the throne room. Was she leading Relma to where the girls were being transformed?


    Come to think of it, she had seen Relma get captured. She probably knew that Relma was a particular case. At least Relma thought she was a special case. Damn it, Relma''s story had more holes in it than she could have imagined.


    At that moment, a group of werewolves came around the corner. They were werewolves, weren''t they? But, whatever they were, they had several regular wolves with them, which snarled.


    "Easy, all of you," said Anya. "We have a lost sheep here. I''m taking her to the entrance."


    "How did she slip Rustoff''s watch?" asked one of the men.


    "Can you smell anything from her?" asked Anya.


    They sniffed. "No."


    "Precisely," said Anya. "Step aside."


    Wait a minute, was Relma''s plan working? Why would Anya play along? She must have been aware of Relma''s situation. Unless she was foolish. But she didn''t give that vibe. So, there must have been something else at work.


    Either way, at least Relma had to play along until they reached the entrance.


    "What was that you meant about my scent?" asked Relma.


    Anya shrugged. "We can''t smell people with the blood of angels in them. So you must have some holy blood in you."


    "The wolves smelled me," noted Relma.


    "Yes," said Anya. "That''s because they don''t have any demon blood in them." Suddenly, she drew very near. Her bloodstained lips were near Relma''s ear. "I like your hair. Are you sure you don''t want to reconsider? I''d like you as one of my broods."


    There was a seductive compulsion put against Relma at that moment. Relma felt that she would have found it hard to resist if she''d been like others. But the separation was still there.


    "No, thank you," said Relma.


    "Are you sure you don''t want me to bite you?" asked Anya. "Immortality. And a high place in the Black Marsh Brood. Your blood would ensure that."


    Time to change the subject. "I thought it was Telix''s brood."


    Anya stepped back. "Brood is a term for those whom Telix or his children have turned. When one of us bites someone and puts out spit into the wound, they are transformed. They become a perfect fusion of wolf and mortal. Unfortunately, they are also brought under the will of the one who bit them."


    "That sounds handy," said Relma. "How have you not taken over the entire world by now?"


    Anya shrugged. "Well, the problem is that you must put part of yourself into them. Turning more than one creature in a year is dangerous. If done too much, it can leave you a weakened husk. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Only Telix can turn more than one person in a year. And he only does it for truly remarkable cases.


    "What''s your name?"


    Was it possible she genuinely didn''t recognize Relma? It seemed too convenient. She couldn''t answer with her real name. "Ralma." What a brilliant difference. No one would ever guess her true identity.


    "Ralma?" asked Anya, looking up thoughtfully. "Hmm, similar name to that girl Ajax brought in."


    "I''m no relation," said Relma.


    "I''m sure," said Anya before putting a hand on the wall. It peeled aside to reveal a passage leading into a forest of massive trees. "This is the entrance. I''d better take you to the edge of the wood, though. If you were caught alone, you''d probably be thrown right back into prison."


    That settled it. Anya was only taking her out into the forest to devour her. Or possibly turn her against her will. Or something else. There was no way anyone could be this stupid.


    As they walked into the forest above, Relma kneeled down and picked up a large branch. She pretended to use it as a walking stick. Anya looked at her with raised eyebrows. "So, um, what''s your name?"


    "Anya," said Anya.


    "Hey, uh, the names of the children of Telix seem to vary a lot, don''t they?" asked Relma as they walked.


    "How did you know I was one of his children?" asked Anya.


    Relma blinked. It occurred to her naturally. Had it just been a wild guess? Or something more. "Well, you had this kind of aura. You seemed naturally more powerful, is all."


    "Of course," said Anya, smiling slightly. "If you want to know, Father journeyed everywhere in his youth. He wrote down names he liked in a book and used them whenever he had a new child. Ajax, for instance, is a name from the continent of Themious."


    Relma had never heard of that place. "What''s that like?"


    "It is ruled by women with extended lifespans and extraordinary strength," said Anya. "But to compensate, the men are all far weaker and timid. Or something to that effect." Then she stopped. "Here we are."


    "Um, this isn''t the edge of the woods," said Relma, tightening her grip on her stick.


    "I''m well aware," said Anya. "You see, I lied. When you told me your name, I guessed who you really were. You''re that Heir of Kings who Ajax has become obsessed with making his own."


    "Guilty as charged," said Relma. "Why did you take me out here?"


    "Well, obviously because I don''t like Ajax," said Anya. "I don''t like the way Father dotes on him. So I''m going to turn you now so that he can''t. Even if he gets to marry you, it''ll be a permanent reminder that I am the dominant-"


    Relma hit her in the face with a stick. Anya flinched. Relma hit her again, and the stick broke. Anya blinked. "You''re far less stupid than you let on. I planned to convert you as a pet, but you may be more than that."


    "One question," said Relma, "Why did you make the offer earlier?"


    "It would be even more humiliating for Ajax if you joined my brood willingly," said Anya. And then she surged forward. In one move, she had Relma''s hands gripped. Her bloody lips peeled back to reveal fangs as she surged forward-


    And then stopped. A blade was at her throat.


    "Who are you?" asked Anya.


    Relma looked up and saw Estela. The older girl was clad in chainmail and wearing a flowing blue cape. Her armor gleamed in the sunlight that fell through the trees. She smiled, looking at the very image of knighthood. "The Lady Estela at your service! Well, actually, a squire. But I suggest you let the girl go."


    Anya let go of Relma''s hands and flipped backward into the air before landing on a low-hanging tree branch.


    "You really should leave while you can," said Estela, flourishing her blade.


    Anya wiped the blood from her mouth. "You don''t know much about the children of Telix, do you?"


    Then she surged forward. Estela ducked under her lunge, only to be yanked off her feet by the cape. In a moment, Anya was on Estela''s chest. Estela stabbed at her, but her hand was grabbed. Anya tried to bite her, but Estela caught her by the throat.


    The two rolled on the ground in mortal combat. Both were able to gain an advantage over the other. Then Ronald came out of the trees and knocked Anya on the head with the back of a short sword.


    Anya slumped forward, and Estela rose up, dusting herself off. "Thanks, Ronald. That was close. Are you all right, Relma?"


    "Yes," said Relma. "But I hit her on the head with a stick. So why didn''t that work?"


    "That''s the tricky thing about demons," said Estela. "Fighting them is half spiritual. So a weapon that a smith worked tirelessly to create is going to be a lot more effective against them than a stick. Even if the stick is just as heavy.


    "That''s why paladins all wield swords. As weapons go, swords take the most work of any common weapon to create."


    "I always wondered about that," said Relma. "But how did you two get here?"


    "We came to rescue you, obviously," said Estela. "Ronald noticed you were gone that night and saw that wolf demon running off with you. He alerted me, and we came after you."


    "The Steward gave you leave?" asked Relma in surprise.


    "Erm... well, not really," said Estela. "We didn''t actually tell anyone where we were going."


    "What?" said Ronald. "But you said he gave permission!"


    "I say a lot of things," said Estela. "I figured it would be an adventure."


    "All of us could have died," said Ronald.


    "I guess," said Estela. Then she looked at Anya. "Speaking of which, she''s still alive, isn''t she?" She pushed Anya''s face up with one foot and raised her sword.


    "Wait, don''t kill her," said Relma.


    Estela looked up. "Why not?"


    "She''s a daughter of Telix," said Relma. "If we kill her, Telix will go on a rampage. So we should tie her up and take her prisoner. Then we can trade her for the girls he had kidnapped."


    "We don''t have any rope," said Estela.


    Ronald pulled out several lengths from his pack. "I do."


    Estela blinked. "You do? Why?"


    "Father always told me, ''Never travel without two lengths of rope. One to lose and one to use,''" said Ronald.


    "Great," said Estela. "Let''s use both."


    They set about tying up Anya. They were Estela, who seemed to possess an intimate understanding of what to do. Several of the loops she made served less to restrain Anya. More to illustrate her helplessness.


    Relma felt that Estela was enjoying this and decided to change the subject. "Oh, um, did you see my Aunt Pan while we were on our way back?"


    "No," said Estela, tightening the last rope. "Why would we?"


    "Well, I don''t really want her to get back to Gel Carn and find me gone," said Relma. "It could end badly."


    Estela shrugged. "Well, we''re heading back now."


    Then she slung the unconscious, bound werewolf over one shoulder and walked off.

 Chapter Nine: Bargaining

    A few hours later, Estela was being stubborn again, as usual. The woods were still around them and showed no signs of going anywhere. They had changed directions several times and were no closer to their goal. Relma sighed as they passed that same stump again.


    "We''re lost, and you know it," Relma said. Why couldn''t Estela admit she had no idea where she was going? Relma probably knew better, but Estela would never listen.


    "We''re not lost," said Estela. "We''re just finding our way."


    "This wouldn''t have happened if you hadn''t broken my compass, you know," said Ronald.


    "I didn''t break your compass," said Estela. "You passed it to me badly." Why was she like this?


    "Could you just admit you dropped it?" asked Ronald.


    "After you passed it to me badly," said Estela.


    "Just keep walking in one direction," said Ronald. "We''re sure to come out somewhere."


    "Assuming the wolves don''t track us down," said Relma. "They''re sure to have discovered I''m gone by now. We must get to Gel Carn quickly, or things could be bad."


    "What''s the rush?" asked Estela. "You don''t think they''ll march straight to war over a couple of squires, do you?"


    Relma decided not to blab the truth and gave a look to Ronald. "Well, you never know." was what she said.


    Estela must have noticed before she looked at them hard. "Actually, you do," she said.


    At that moment, Anya slung over Estela''s shoulder and woke up. She started struggling. Straining against her ropes and thrashing. She glared hatefully at Relma. "Mmmph! Mmmph!"


    "Well, it sounds like our prisoner has woken up," said Estela. "Come on, let''s keep moving." Anya kept shouting and thrashing as they walked. It became increasingly irritating as they walked. Relma was afraid that they would attract attention. "Did you tie her properly?"


    "Of course," said Estela.


    "She''s making a lot of noise," said Relma.


    "You know, if you''d made a bit more noise, we wouldn''t have been in this situation in the first place," said Estela.


    "I couldn''t," said Relma. "Ajax did something to make me fall unconscious."


    "It''s calling hitting someone over the head," said Estela flatly. "An ancient technique that is known only to the greatest warriors. One that has been passed down in Ronald''s family for generations." Did she have to be so snide about all this?


    "No, I mean he put a cloth over my mouth," said Relma. "When I breathed through it, I fell asleep." Anya kept yelling. "I wish we had one of those now."


    Ronald hit Anya over the head again, and she fell unconscious. "I can improvise."


    "Will you stop doing that?" asked Relma. "You could hurt her."


    "She was attracting attention," said Ronald. "Do you think it was some kind of spell?"


    Relma looked down. "No. I know spellwork when I see it. It must have been a poison of some kind."


    "What did he want you for anyway?" asked Estela.


    "He wanted to marry me," said Relma. "I think he was stalking me before now. But right now, Telix is transforming villagers into wolf people."


    "So werewolves," said Estela.


    "What''s a werewolf," asked Relma.


    "Mmmph!" screamed Anya again. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "A person who transforms into a wolf when the Moon Spirit is at its zenith. We have them in Escor. Father killed one a long time ago. Although," she switched her grip on Anya to a bridal hold, "this one seems to be only half transformed. And the moon isn''t high. So it isn''t a werewolf.


    "Mmmph." hissed Anya.


    "Shut up," said Estela. "Ronald, could you hit her again?"


    And then there was a long howl. It reached throughout the forests and chilled Relma to the core. Estela hardened and set down Anya. "Wolves."


    "Come on!" said Ronald. "We''ve got to go."


    "No, don''t run," said Relma. "You can''t outrun wolves. So instead, we have to climb a tree."


    "But I''m terrible at climbing!" said Ronald.


    "Mmmph," said Anya in amusement. Estela kicked her.


    "Just try," said Relma, "I''ll help you."


    "It won''t do any good anyway," said Estela, drawing her sword. "We''d have to abandon our hostage. And something tells me these people can climb themselves."


    Stolen story; please report.


    "Mmph," agreed Anya.


    "We have to do something," said Relma.


    Estela considered things. "Both of you climb that tree. I''ll keep our hostage here and see if we can negotiate."


    There was no more time to talk. The howls were drawing near. Quickly, Relma helped Ronald up to the lowest branch, and when he began climbing, she did her best to follow. Several times, she slipped and hurt herself and nearly fell.


    Even so, she managed to clamber up a few branches. Enough that a wolf couldn''t leap up and bite her, she hoped. She and Ronald looked down from the tree.


    Estela was sitting cross-legged. Anya''s head was on her lap, and her sword was at the wolf girl''s throat.


    That was the scene when Ajax burst out of the trees with many regular wolves with him. They formed a circle, but Estela stood dead still. They halted as they saw the blade.


    "You have something that doesn''t belong to you, human," said Ajax.


    "Actually, I''ve got several things that don''t belong to you or me," said Estela. "Your sister is one of them. And unless you want me to spill her blood all over the ground, you will do exactly as I say."


    Ajax laughed. "Come off it. We''ll be on you in a flash and devour you the moment you do that. Then we''ll take what we came for anyway."


    "And you have a dead sister at the end of it," noted Estela.


    Ajax paused. Father would want me to at least try to save Anya. All right then. Hand her over, and I''ll grant you and that halfling boy safe passage out of here. I''ll take my prize, and nobody has to die."


    "See, that''s a bit of a problem," said Estela with the usual false bravado. "Ronald and I had to leave Gel Carn without leaving to rescue ''your'' prize. If we return empty-handed, we''ll be thrashed with nothing to show. And I''d rather be eaten by wolves than admit defeat."


    "We could wait in shifts until you nod off," noted Ajax.


    "I could cut her throat when I start to get tired," shot back Estela. That was ruthless. Relma knew Estela was bargaining, but stalling seemed all they could do here. And if she made Ajax angry, it could get them all killed.


    Ajax paused. "...Well, if we can''t negotiate, what can we do?"


    "Not much. Killing all of you will be a lot of trouble for me," said Estela. "And you can''t kill me without losing your sister."


    "I can wait," said Ajax. "Sooner or later, you''ll make a mistake."


    "And I''ll spill Anya''s blood all over the ground," said Estela proudly. Far too proud to be genuine. "I''ll return her to you only once I have your word that all three of us can leave in peace."


    The stalemate continued.


    "...Estela is buying us some time, I guess," said Relma with a sigh. "But what do we do now?" Then she looked up and saw that Ronald had clambered over to the edge of one of the far-reaching branches. He had poured two flasks of oil all over it. Now, he was working at it with a flint and fuel to create a spark. Relma clambered up after him. "Ronald, what are you doing?"


    "Starting a fire," said Ronald. He got a spark, and the branch burst into a merry flame. The wolves above sniffed the air and looked up.


    "You''re setting the tree on fire?" asked Relma. "We''re on top of it!"


    "Don''t worry, I brought a saw with me," said Ronald, drawing it out.


    "What has that got to do with anything?" asked Relma.


    She saw what he was doing soon. He began to saw at the branch to cut it off and send it into the underbrush. But before he could finish, sparks flew out and caught on nearby trees. Even as the branch fell from the tree, the nearby wood began to go up in a blaze of flame. Whimpers of dismay came from the wolves as they broke for it. Ajax rushed after them, calling for them to return.


    "Um, I think I miscalculated," said Ronald.


    "Get off the tree!" cried Relma.


    They leaped. Relma felt the heat rise up behind her. As she landed, she looked back to see the flames burning ever larger. Scrambling over to Estela, she halted.


    "Well, that''s not good," said Ronald.


    "What did you do?" asked Estela.


    "Started a forest fire," said Ronald. "We''ve got to get out of these woods!"


    "What about the trees and animals?" asked Relma, worried about how this would look later. "The spirits!"


    "They work for Telix," said Estela. "They''re our enemy."


    Relma took her point. They could hardly complain about Relma fighting back. So they rose and ran for one of the few areas not writhed in flames. As they did, the fire spread all around them. Smoke rose up in the air, and the heat grew worse and worse. Relma felt her lungs burning, and sweat dripped down her eyes, stinging them.


    Wiping them away, she saw a bush set ablaze before her. However, Ronald pulled her out.


    "This is no good!" said Ronald. "We''ll never outrun it at this rate!"


    "Mmph!" said Anya fearfully.


    Then, the flames arose in front of them as well. They were trapped and running out of space. "Wonderful plan, Ronald," said Estela. "We were surrounded by bloodthirsty wolves waiting to kill us. Now we''re surrounded by flames that aren''t waiting to kill us! You imbecile!"


    "Waiting..." said Relma. Realization dawned as she saw the obvious solution Aunt Pan had taught her. "Of course!"


    "What?" said Estela.


    "There is a spirit behind everything in nature," said Relma. "Fire is no exception. Aunt Pan taught me that forest fires happen when a fire spirit is awakened." She stepped forward and called out. "Listen to me; I am the Heir to Anoa the Bright! The Heir of Kings!"


    The fires peeled back like the wings of a bird unfolding before them. A great head like an eagle''s was raised with flaring eyes for a moment.


    "...Did that just work?" asked Estela.


    At that moment, the flames formed into the shape of a monstrous, demonic face. It had eyes of blue fire. "You have called me into this world, Relma Artorious. What have you to say?"


    Artorious? Was that her last name?


    "Um, I''d really appreciate it if you could not kill us," said Relma. "We''d like to be opened a path out of the woods."


    "The Heir of Kings makes a request of me?" asked the spirit. "This is a rare thing. For your ancestors invoked me often and gave me fuel of all kinds. Their offerings have ceased since. But in recognition of my friendship with Anoa the Bright, I shall do as you ask."


    "Also, could you not kill anyone?" asked Relma.


    "I have already killed hundreds of woodland creatures," replied the spirit proudly. "And the answer is no. However, I shall see that my flames do not consume any that you consider equals.


    "Now, be gone. You test my patience."


    The face disappeared, and the fires returned to reveal a burnt woodland path. They ran for it.


    "Well, that worked," said Ronald.


    "Yeah," said Relma.


    "How did you bluff a spirit?" asked Estela.


    "Um, I didn''t. I really am the Heir of Kings," said Relma.


    "Of course you are," scoffed Estela. "Let''s just keep moving. We''re almost out of the forest."


    Then they emerged, blinking into a landscape Relma had never seen before. Gel Carn was nowhere in sight.

 Chapter Ten: The Lord of the Black Dragons

    It was a rocky and barren landscape of rough stones covered in white moss while smoke rose further up. Thankfully, there wasn''t much wind, but the journey was still hard. Relma became aware her boots were wrong for it. Ronald had brought an extra cloak and clothes, but more was needed as they got higher. It led sloping upwards to the knees of the black mountain. Animal bones could be seen here and there, and this place had an aura of desolation.


    Relma didn''t like it and wondered why anyone would live here. She almost wanted to go back into the forest fire. Then she thought better of that idea and wished she were home in bed. It would be nice to be back before this adventure nonsense happened.


    So much for wishing their problems away; it wasn''t an option.


    "This isn''t..." began Ronald. "Where are we?"


    "On the northern edge of the forest, if I have a guess," said Estela.


    "Northern edge?" asked Relma. "But that is in Wrynncurth''s territory."


    "We could go back into the blazing inferno if you want," said Estela.


    "Be serious, Estela," said Relma. "We have to get to Gel Carn. We can wait until the flames die down and then-"


    "Be hunted down by Ajax?" noted Estela.


    "Estela is right, Relma," said Ronald. "We''re going to have to go a bit up and then make our way along the crags."


    "We''ll have to watch out for dragons," said Estela. "Wrynncurth is sure to have sentries flying above."


    "If he does, then some will be coming here soon," said Relma. "They''ll be attracted to the flames. So we should get out of sight."


    "But there is nowhere to hide here," noted Ronald.


    Relma looked up at the barren peaks. Then she noticed some piled stones like a marker. She pointed toward them. "What about those stones. Quick."


    They made for them. As they did, Relma felt the cold seeping into her. This place was cold in a physical sense but also in a spiritual one. She had the feeling that nothing lived here in this place. It was nothing natural anyway.


    Soon, they had gotten behind the stones and found that they were piled in such a way as to make an alcove. Like someone had made them for shelter. But who?


    Either way, they could only be seen from one side like this. And then only if someone looked right at them. They huddled together and stayed close for warmth. Relma put her hands within her sleeves and shuddered.


    "How could it get this cold this quickly?" asked Estela.


    "I don''t know," said Ronald, "but I''ll light a fire. That will warm us up."


    "Someone could follow the smoke right to us," noted Estela.


    "Do you want to freeze to death?" asked Ronald. "No one will notice with all the smoke coming off the fire." sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sure enough, the fire had spread to the eaves. The flames were now burning brightly, and the smoke rose ever higher. Ronald didn''t bother to make the point again. Instead, he laid out some firewood he had brought and took some out of Estela''s pack. Then he set about making a fire.


    Once it was blazing, he produced a cooking pot and several ingredients. Using some salted meat, I began to cook a meal. Relma realized that she hadn''t eaten anything all day. When the food was done, she wolfed it down with the others.


    "I''ll admit," said Estela, "it was a good idea to bring extra."


    "Mmmph," said Anya, struggling in a corner.


    "Shouldn''t we feed her?" asked Relma.


    "It isn''t that far to Gel Carn," said Estela. "And anyway, she might yell and attract attention."


    "Look at this," said Ronald.


    Relma looked up and saw that he had found something on the far side of the alcove. It was a small hole tunneled into the rock. Through it, she could get a good view of the burning forest. She felt a bit guilty.


    Estela soon was by her.


    "This place must have been made deliberately," said Estela. "We should clean up and move on. Someone may come soon."


    At that moment, a shadow passed over the outside. A gigantic black shape descended to circle around. Soon it came down from the other side and landed in front of the forest.


    "A dragon." realized Ronald. "It''s a black dragon."


    The dragon landed, and Relma felt a bit disappointed. It had looked awe-inspiring and vast when looking at its shadow. But as it turned out, most of that was its now furled wings. The dragon itself couldn''t have been much bigger than a large cow and might have been much smaller.


    "That thing is much smaller than I thought it would be," said Estela.


    "It''s probably a baby dragon," said Relma.


    "No, there are no baby black dragons," said Estela. "I read about this in Father''s library. When a black dragon is killed, they reform at the point of their hoard. Though it takes a while."


    "Then how do they reproduce?" asked Relma.


    "They don''t," said Estela. "I think they are created by Adrian Wrynncurth from black magic or something. But, I don''t know, it was a boring book."


    Then another dragon, much more significant, landed near the smaller one. It nodded to him in respect. "Lord Adrian, what is this? What has caused the fire spirits to arise in new wrath?"


    "I say, it does appear to be a rather large flame, doesn''t it?" said the smaller dragon. "Not the sort I''d like to roast sheep over. Cin''dar must have gotten very out of sorts."


    That was Adrian Wrynncurth? No, it couldn''t be. So it must have been a dragon with the same name. And the title of Lord.


    "What made him angry, Lord Wrynncurth?" asked the larger one.


    "Oh, he''s not angry. He''s just roused," said Adrian. "He''s gotten up in arms on behalf of the person who woke him up."


    "That''s Wrynncurth?" asked Estela. "But he''s supposed to be the largest of all the Black Dragon Flight."


    "He looks huge to me," said Ronald.


    "Who woke him up?" asked the larger dragon.


    Adrian brought up a four-fingered claw and produced a pipe from within one of his scales. He lit it with a match, thoughtfully looked at the flames, and smoked a draft. "Not at all sure. I''ll have to ask him.


    "Though I wager those ne''er do wells hiding in the alcove might know a thing or two about it." Relma froze. Instantly, they sprinted for the exit. But before they could even reach it, the exit was blocked. Adrian Wrynncurth''s many-toothed face was staring at them. His eyes were flaming green, and he stank of death and decay. It dawned on Relma that although he wasn''t much larger than a cow, cows were huge.


    "I say, you can''t outrun a black dragon on foot, my fine fellows," said Wrynncurth in a cheerful tone. "No one can."


    Estela drew her sword and swung it. Wrynncurth sniffed, and her blade seemed to go right through Wrynncurth. Then Relma saw why.


    Estela''s sword blade had melted into nothing. It would have been absurd if she''d been looking at a picture of this moment. A group of teenagers was cornered by a small dragon with a pipe out of his mouth. As Relma was living it, it was terrifying.


    "That was one of my weaker acids," said Wrynncurth. "Rather proud of it. It can''t be seen and works right quick. I hope you know I could have had you all melting instantly with that. Now drop what''s left of your sword and surrender. I''ll give you a chance to account for yourselves."


    Ronald threw aside his weapon. Estela dropped the haft of what had been her sword.


    "Good," said Wrynncurth. "Now, who are you, and where do you come from?" His gaze turned to Anya. "And why are you holding one of his children captive? I like a good story, but keep it short.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "I''ve got a spot of trouble in the forest to address." He motioned with his head.


    "We''re running away from Telix," said Relma. "He kidnapped me, and my friends came to rescue me. So now we''re trying to escape."


    "And I wager that the blaze out there is your doing then, my girl?" mused Adrian.


    Relma shifted beneath his gaze. She had the feeling he already knew the answer. "I tried to talk Cin''dar out of it."


    "What you neglect to mention is that you started the sparks that got him started." Flask of oil over a broken tree branch, eh? Very clever, if destructive."


    "How did you..." began Relma.


    "Well, some people can read people. I can read memories," said Wrynncurth. "Still, you''re a strange one to read. Your memory is very bright. It''d be a challenge reading it, I think.


    "No matter. It''s best to take care of this blaze right quick. I think Cin''dar has had his fun. Anias, escort these fellows out." He blinked and looked at Anya. Then he breathed, and the ropes decayed. At once, the wolf girl charged at Estela, only for Adrian''s tail to be put around her neck. There was a blade at the end. "None of that, my girl. We''ll have no fighting now; I haven''t the time for it."


    Then, he slithered out of the alcove and stood atop it. Relma followed and found her under the gaze of dozens of black dragons. Where had they all come from? None were larger than Anias, who looked down on them.


    Relma glanced to where Adrian was standing in front of an inferno. It looked like a vision out of hell itself. Wrynncurth sat on his haunches and slid the pipe to the side of his mouth. "Down, you spark! No more fuel for you!"


    Then the face returned. It was larger down, burning brighter, and filled with unfathomable hatred. "I am fire. I am heat. I am a thousand charred corpses burning on a thousand battlefields. All who know me fear me, and all who seek to halt my path are consumed by my will.


    "No mere dragon can halt my power."


    "Ah, but I''m not a mere dragon, old chap," said Wrynncurth. "I''ve got living memory of Smyngoth the Greater. I watched him as he curled up and raised the black mountain over him. And I''m in no mood for your nonsense.


    "Be off with you at once, or I''ll see that you''ll never start a flame again."


    "The memory of Smyngoth pales before the power bestowed on me by Anoa the Bright," said Cin''der. "My flames have consumed whole cities. My wrath is the undoing of nations. My gaze alone reduces all things to ashes.


    "Anoa alone could control me. And he is now dead. His heirs are a pale shadow of what he once was."


    "Heirs?" asked Wrynncurth. "What the blazes are you talking about, old chap? Anoa''s heirs fell long, ages ago."


    "They have risen again," said Cin''dar.


    Wrynncurth glanced at Relma. "...Ah, so that was why I couldn''t read her. Thanks for the information, old chap. But this contest has gone on long enough."


    "Fool. I am eternal," said Cin''dar. "I will blaze without relent. My fire shall spread across every forest, every field. The rivers will be quenched and reduced to steam. The seas will boil to nothing. All shall be reduced to ashes and burned from existence."


    The fires rose higher, and all the flames in the forest seemed to be mustering. A wave of flame shot toward Wrynncurth, who took his pipe out of his mouth. Instantly, the fire stopped.


    Wrynncurth sighed. "You are a rather aggressive fellow, aren''t you? No matter. Do give my regards to Anoa, wherever he is."


    Then he unfurled his wings and beat them. A wave of wind was unleashed from them. As he did, Wrynncurth and the other dragons spewed a wave of acid. The winds became a vortex that pulled the flames into it, quenching them in moments. Yet Cin''dar roared, and the fires burned anew upon the air itself. An ocean of sparks appeared, battling with the wind and acid.


    "I cannot be contained forever! All shall burn beneath my gaze!" cried Cin''dar. "Your every effort... only... prolongs... the... inevitable..."


    Then he was gone.


    "Why was Anoa friends with him?" asked Estela after a moment.


    "Father often has to work with people he doesn''t like," said Ronald. "Sometimes, he even pretends to be friends with them."


    "Well, now, that changes things, doesn''t it," said Wrynncurth. He put the pipe back in his mouth and turned to them. "I thought there was something strange about the way you thought. You''ve got the blood of Elranor in you. That shifts your thinking.


    "If it is your desire, I shall gladly return you to Gel Carn."


    Relma blinked. "Why?"


    "When I gave Telix permission to kidnap women for his broods, I only told him not to seize nobles," said Wrynncurth. "I suppose it never occurred to him that he might be kidnapping a Heir of Kings."


    "Why are you letting him kidnap people in the first place?" asked Relma.


    "Well, he does need people to populate his new domain," said Wrynncurth. "And since they struck first, I feel justified in striking back. Unfortunately, it''ll be a long time before the dragon they killed will reform. In the meantime, I''ll have to assign someone to guard his hoard. Most inconvenient."


    "That''s hard on the people you''re kidnapping," said Relma.


    "Well, yes. I suppose it is. But they are commoners, so they are worth far less than that of a noble," mused Wrynncurth. "And a noble is worth far less than the life of a single black dragon. So it evens out."


    "They probably don''t see it that way," noted Relma.


    "Well then, it is fortunate that their opinion doesn''t matter," said Wrynncurth. "Now climb aboard my back; I will carry you to Gel Carn. Anias Celcorn carries the other two. We''ll have to be off soon."


    "Wait!" said Anya. "These four are prisoners of my father, Telix. You must return them at once."


    "I think not, my girl," said Wrynncurth. "Keeping the Heir of Kings prisoner is the sort of thing which provokes wars. It is best for all involved if we negotiate an end to things now that we have what we want.


    "One of your children was killed," said Anya.


    "Yes, and he''ll be very annoyed when he comes back. Likely has to replace part of his hoard. And hunt the ones who took it," said Wrynncurth. "For now, he''s dead, and we blacks don''t much concern ourselves with the dead. It is much better to focus on the living. I''ll have you escorted back to Telix at once. Tell him this business, with the Heir of Kings, is getting a bit risky for my tastes."


    "I will tell my Father your words. But he will not be pleased," said Anya.


    Well, that is a risk we all take when making decisions," said Wrynncurth. "Now come, Relma, onto my back. We have much work to do."


    "So, you''re not angry? asked Relma.


    "On the contrary, my dear girl," said Wrynncurth in a cheerful tone. "I''m positively blind with fury. To have some of my subject''s money stolen is the highest possible insult I could sustain. I considered burning Gel Carn down and killing everyone inside, but I decided against it.


    "Not good business, you understand. I could crush them as naturally as breathing. But then the economy would all fall apart. That would make it harder to increase the size of my hoard. And, of course, the Harlenorian Kingdoms would take burning down Gel Carn personally. We''d have crusades and dragon slayers and all that nonsense.


    "No, better to let Telix have some fun to make a point. Now, come along, all of you. We''d best be off. I''m sure Pandora and Arengeth are anything but pleased you are gone."

 Chapter Eleven: A History of Dragons

    Flying was amazing. It was so impressive that Relma forgot how dangerous everything had been moments before. The wind whipped through her hair, the sight of the land far below them. It was beyond anything she had felt.


    Of course, the land soon became hard to make out with the dying light. A blur of dark shapes far below. But she liked the feeling of being so high. Estela and Ronald did not share her glee. Both were clinging to Wrynncurth''s spines, their cloaks flowing behind them. Neither looked happy. And they certainly weren''t looking down.


    Relma sighed. She had far less heavy clothes than them and wasn''t complaining.


    Eventually, the thrill wore off, and Relma began to think about things. Questions occurred to her, and she realized she might never get a chance to answer them. She may have waited for the end of the trip. "Wrynncurth, can I ask you something?"


    "You may ask," said Wrynncurth.


    "Um... aren''t you small for a dragon?" said Relma. She felt like she was asking something sensitive. She could have phrased it better.


    "No," said Wrynncurth, tone cheerful as always. "Though once I would have been for my kind."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma. He sounded cheerful, but that didn''t mean anything. He always stated cheerfully. But was he?


    "Before Smyngoth began his eternal sleep, there were three dragon flights," said Wrynncurth. "The red. The silver. And the golden."


    "What about the black flight?" asked Relma. She had the feeling she had just asked a stupid question.


    "I was just getting to that, my girl," said Wrynncurth. "Now you see, the dragons had a tradition that every few hundred years, they changed kings. This was to ensure that things did not wholly stagnate." Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "We mortals usually just wait for our kings to die," noted Relma. Idiot, Wrynncurth already knew that.


    "A fair system," said Wrynncurth. He didn''t sound perturbed. But you could never tell. "Unfortunately, it wouldn''t work for us. We have the dubious honor of never growing old. Thus, the rotation of kings, as all the flights called it.


    "Alchara, the Dreaming Goddess, and Laevian were involved in the lines of succession. Each King had to be approved by both of them. As it turned out, Alchara had plans to unify the flights under one leader. She created a breeding program, intent on gaining the powers of all three dragons. Eventually, she succeeded. She produced a dragon with the bloodlines of all three royal families."


    "Royal families?" asked Relma. "I thought you rotated kings." This sounded a little sick.


    "Well, yes," said Wrynncurth. "Traditionally, the next King would mate with one of the children of his predecessor. This ensured they had only one core bloodline.


    "Anyway, Alchara managed to maneuver her new creature into a position of power. He was made King of both the Gold and the Red flights. However, Smyngoth convinced his fellow silver dragons to defy Alchara. They maintained their independence."


    "Wait, you just said that Smyngoth was a black dragon," said Relma.


    "He was silver at the time," said Wrynncurth. "At any rate, Alchara can''t stand things that aren''t under her control. So she started trying to pressure the silvers into yielding control to her. In the process, her creature extended his tenure over red and gold flights. Several times, actually.


    "This got some of the reds and golds mad. And Smyngoth made plans with them to overthrow the King of All Dragons, as he named himself."


    "How did that work out?" asked Relma.


    "Well, it was a complicated and messy business, to be sure," said Wrynncurth. "You remember the era for your own heroes part in it. Anoa the Bright was Elranor''s champion."


    "How did Elranor fit into things?" asked Relma.


    "Well, Elranor was part of an elaborate series of alliances," said Wrynncurth. "One of many. Nice enough, chap. At the time, no one expected him to amount to much. Championing hairless apes and all that.


    "But his policy has been vindicated by history.


    "There was a vast war. Both sides were decimated. The high elf empires fell, while the dust elves were severely weakened. The goblins were exterminated. Humans became the dominant power by breeding faster. Then, of course, the satyrs came out of the woodwork, and there were a series of other conflicts.


    "One war leads to another, as they say."


    "But what has this got to do with you being smaller?" asked Relma.


    "Well, Smyngoth killed the King of All Dragons," said Wrynncurth. "And then, to ensure that nothing like this ever happened again, he killed all his children. Then, he tried to exterminate the red and golden royal families. Nasty business, but it had to be done to foil Alchara''s plans.


    "Anyway, Alchara was always a sore loser. And a sore winner. She cursed Smyngoth and all his offspring to become shadows of what we once were. Smaller, weaker, and no longer beautiful. By Alchara''s standards anyway, beauty is in the eye of the beholder."


    "So you were a silver dragon once?" asked Relma.


    "Gracious no," said Wrynncurth. "All the original children of Smyngoth are long since dead. They didn''t survive the transformation. I was his youngest. Alchara made it easy on me."


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    "Why was that?" asked Relma.


    "Oh, the usual sort of sadism," said Wrynncurth. "She wanted someone to live as an eternal reminder of Smyngoth''s folly. Rather, it didn''t work out for her. It must make her furious seeing the black flight repopulated.


    "And what did the Dreaming Goddess and Laevian do about this?" asked Relma.


    "Oh, well, the Dreaming Goddess was taken out of the picture to save the High Elven race," said Wrynncurth. "Rather a waste. And she''d never been as strong as Alchara or Laevian. Laevian had been losing ground for years and threw in with Elranor.


    "Worked out rather well for her."


    "Who was your mother?" asked Relma.


    "I didn''t have one," said Wrynncurth. "We dragons produce eggs on our own, without needing a mate. Smyngoth taught me many spells. And my brothers and sisters as well." He paused.


    "You said the dragon flight kings mated with their predecessor''s children," said Relma.


    "Well, yes," said Wrynncurth, "a mate is a good thing to have. It allows you to take the strengths of another dragon and add them to your own in your children. If you produce eggs without mating, the result will probably be weaker than yourself.


    "Though we black dragons don''t produce eggs at all. Alchara ensured I could not have children. Or she tried to.


    "My children were created by spellwork. As my brothers and sisters died, I trapped their souls in gems. I then used the life force of thousands of animals to create their bodies. Then, I implanted the souls of my brothers and sisters into them. Of course, the bodies were a bit unstable; holding a soul is tricky.


    "So I tied the soul to precious metals. Gold is the best. Thus, I could recreate my family in a new form."


    "So you''re a necromancer," said Relma. She didn''t know which one was more terrifying. What Wrynncurth had done, or a matter of fact, the cheerful way he talked about it.


    "Well, I suppose one could consider us undead," said Wrynncurth. "I don''t like putting magic into different categories. And if you must, the Magicora method has the most weight." He stopped.


    "What''s the Magicora method?" asked Relma.


    "According to the mages of Magicora, there are three schools of magic," said Wrynncurth. "Demonic, divine, and spiritual. Demonic power comes from pacts demons. The power of the divine is bestowed on a person by the gods. Spiritual magic requires an understanding of spirits.


    "What I do is technically demonic. But it also has aspects of the spiritual."


    "Don''t you think," Relma paused as she considered how politely put it? "Wouldn''t it have been kinder to let your brothers and sisters be reincarnated?"


    "I could," said Wrynncurth. "But then I would have given Alchara the satisfaction of winning. And it would have accepted god''s verdict. And I shall do neither, even if I would be better off."


    "So you''re motivated by spite then," said Relma.


    "Exactly!" said Wrynncurth. "Arengeth believes that great evil comes about because of dark lords on high thrones. But I think that the real thing that causes excellent evil is simpler.


    "Petty acts of meanness that sew hatred and discord. Tiny seeds that grow into the end of whole civilizations.


    "Alchara wanted to end Father''s bloodline. But we have persevered. We have done away with the shackles of reincarnation and created our own cycle of rebirth. We have cast aside the limitations set upon us by the gods and become our own gods.


    "We have achieved mastery over the physical. Soon, we shall ascend beyond that. The secrets of the soul shall be laid bare. Thus, I will find a way to create souls! Then, nothing shall be beyond us!


    "The black dragons shall spread across every nation, every plane of existence! Every world shall be populated! Every knee shall bow! None shall be beyond our reach!


    "And once we may create souls, we will have the power to destroy them! The elven gods shall die, a second and permanent death beyond the recall of all magic! Even their place in the past shall be gone! All shall bow before Smyngoth! Smyngoth Spellweaver! Smyngoth is a maker of languages! SMYNGOTH THE ETERNAL!!"


    The roar of Wrynncurth was deafening. Relma nearly lost her grip on the spines as darkness fell over the world.


    "Still, that''s all very long-term," said Wrynncurth. "Our population has an upward limit. We can only have as many black dragons as I had family members."


    "If you can''t create new souls, how can you outnumber the other flights?" asked Relma. Wrynncurth was obviously far less sane than he appeared.


    "Well, I had many brothers and sisters," said Wrynncurth. "And the reds have deliberately controlled their own population. So they only have more children to replace losses or to set up as the Lord of a new region. Or at least that''s what they were doing the last time I chatted with Vanessa. Though that was over a thousand years ago.


    "Meanwhile, the golds are far, far to the east. Most of them were wiped out. Actually, there was only one left when Smyngoth was through with them. Father always loathed the species. "They''ve been building their way back to a sustainable population. But they won''t outnumber us for a long time yet. And by then, it will be too late to stop us. So when Father comes out of the mountain, he''ll see his children the greatest of all flights."


    "Why did he raise the mountain over himself anyway?" asked Relma.


    "Much like myself, Father was in constant agony because of the curse," said Wrynncurth. "I have lived with it most of my days, and my children have lived with it as long as they existed. So we need to find out the difference. But he was pained.


    "I believe he stayed where he was until he could ensure his line would not die out. Then he went into his slumber. Someday, however, he will rise again and bring about the end of Alchara. "I hope I''m there."


    Suddenly, Wrynncurth dove downwards, beating his wings. Below them, Relma now saw Gel Carn. The castle shifted somewhat. It now looked more forlorn. Less significant. The forest was still below them, but Wrynncurth flew downwards and landed by the eaves. Some of the trees were burnt and charred.


    "This is horrible," said Relma.


    "Oh, forest fires happen now and again," said Wrynncurth. "No sense in showing concern once you''re out of the blaze.


    "At any rate, here is where I will set you down. Going any further in will be risking the arrows of the men of Gel Carn. There is a fortified village over there you can no doubt gain further directions from." He motioned with one wing as they got off.


    Sure enough, there was a village. It was surrounded by a palisade of stakes, and several men had bows on it. Yet no alarm had been sounded. Wrynncurth had slipped down here, within walking distance of the village at night. And no one had even noticed.


    Relma shuddered to think what might happen if he went to war. He could have burned that whole village in moments. Or could Aunt Pan and Aren stop them?


    "Thank you, Adrian," said Relma. "Thank you so much."


    "Oh, no trouble at all, my dear," said Wrynncurth. "It will be a shame if it comes to war. I may accidentally burn you with acid. Farewell."


    Then he took to the skies and flew away with marvelous speed.


    Estela was shuddering, and Ronald looked less than enthusiastic. Relma looked at them. "Why don''t you guys cheer up? We got home, didn''t we?"


    "Shut up," said Estela. "That sword was a gift from my father."


    "And I borrowed the other from the armory," said Ronald.


    "Can we just get to safety?" asked Relma. "Ajax might still be prowling around."


    They walked toward the village in stony silence.

 Chapter Twelve: A Generation Early

    They made their way quickly toward the village, surrounded by a wall of stone. The roofs were shingled, and men were on watch with bows. The windows in the buildings were mainly on the higher levels and narrow, placed to let in the light of the sun as it rose and fell. It was much warmer here. A day ago, it would have been chilly for summer. But after the life-sapping surroundings of Adrian''s domain, nothing seemed warmer. It was odd how a few adventures changed how you thought.


    "Finally, we''re back in civilization and safety," said Ronald.


    "Civilization, perhaps. Not sure about safety," said Estela. "There''s the inn. I''ve drunk good ale there. We''ll see what we can find."


    They approached the gates of the village, and Estela banged on them. "Open the gates, will you?! Open them!"


    There was a long pause. Then, a slot slid aside to reveal an elderly woman clad in chainmail. She looked at them with narrowed eyes. "Who is it?"


    "It''s Estela and Ronald," said Estela. "We came here before. Remember?"


    "Estela?" the old woman blinked. "Squire Estela? Well, this is a surprise. When you entered the woods, I thought we''d never see you again. Much less that you''d come back with your friend in tow.


    "There have been quite a few lights in the forest this week."


    "That''s somewhat our fault," said Relma. "Can we come in?"


    "Of course, of course." said the woman. "We''ve had enough disappearances without you disappearing as well." She opened the postern, and they slipped in. sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "We actually know what is happening to the girls," said Relma. "I barely escaped."


    "You do?" asked the woman. "Well, if that''s the case, you''d best tell the story in the common room of the Coiled Serpent Inn. We''ve got some people here. Pandora the Sorceress herself at that."


    "Aunt Pan is here?" asked Relma. "I''ve seen her!"


    As they made their way through the town, Relma noticed the buildings were blackened. They hadn''t been burned but melted. This must have been where the dragon attacked before.


    The Coiled Serpent Inn was a large, three-story building that loomed over the others. It had open windows, letting out a golden light. Relma looked at the coiled, golden serpent on the sign.


    "Not the most friendly emblem, is it?" she asked.


    "Orn, the innkeeper, his ancestors fought on the side of House Gabriel. During the Escorian Civil war, I mean," said Estela. "During the purges, they were forced to flee. House Vortegex helped them and many others escape those bloodsucking De Chevlons.


    They keep the symbol as a mark of pride. So come on, let''s get a drink and celebrate. I''ve got plenty of coins.


    They opened the door and came into a bustling standard room. Several villagers were speaking with one another over tables. Most of them carried knives, Relma noted. That hadn''t been the practice in the inns she''d seen back in the domain of Ronald''s Father.


    A balding man came forward. Orn, Relma presumed. "Good evening, young ladies. And Lady Estela. How can I be of service to you on this fine day?"


    "I''ll have the usual," said Estela. "And get something weaker for my friends here."


    "I''ll have what Estela is having," said Relma.


    "You''ll have what I say you should have," said Aunt Pan as she approached. She kneeled by Relma. "Relma, what are you doing all the way out here? And Ronald, too? Why did you follow me here?"


    "We didn''t exactly follow you," admitted Relma.


    "You''d best explain. Innkeeper, bring us a hot meal," said Aunt Pan. "I will speak to my niece." Explaining the situation could have been more comfortable. As Relma did, Aunt Pan looked furious, though not at her. "You were kidnapped? How could Father have let something like that happen! The old fool! I told him to be careful, but his wits clearly fail with age!


    "How did you get away?"


    "I escaped," said Relma. "Or rather, I almost escaped. I would have been turned into a werewolf if Estela hadn''t come by at the last minute."


    "Well, then something came of her venture, at least," said Pandora. "But, they would have turned you into a werewolf?"


    "No, a werewolf is a mortal who becomes a wolf when the moon is full," said Estela. "What Relma is talking about is something else. Maybe a wolfman. Or part man, part wolf. Let''s call it a manwolf."


    "A werewolf is a fusion of man and wolf," said Aunt Pan. "That''s it. The details can be anything."


    "Well, then we need better clarity of language," said Estela.


    "Enough," said Pan, "Relma, do you know why this Ajax kidnapped you?"


    "It''s complicated," said Relma. "You see, Telix is trying to create a new kingdom. First, he turned the outlaws that once lived in the forest into part of his brood. Now he is kidnapping young maidens to transform them into his own kind."


    "I see. You did well to bring this to me," said Pan. "I will deal with Telix myself in due time.


    "For now, you''d better tell me all the details."


    Relma told Pan everything she knew. Pan then asked Estela and Ronald for an account of things. Estela did most of the talking, exaggerating the details. As she did, Aunt Pan looked increasingly worried. Eventually, she set a hand on Relma''s shoulder. "Relma, I''d like to speak to you to one side."


    Relma allowed herself to be led away to a table in the corner. There Pan sat down and looked at her hard. "What is it, Aunt Pan?"


    "Did anything happen while you were with Ajax?" asked Pan.


    "A lot of things happened," said Relma, slightly defensive.


    "I think we both know what I''m asking, dear," said Pan.


    "We made violent love, and now I am carrying his child," said Relma.


    "I am very serious, dear," said Pan.


    Relma sighed. "No, Aunt Pan. Nothing happened. Telix was very big on choice. He gave all of the women who he captured the chance to leave. After, he used magic to enchant them. But he had led the ones who managed to refuse him out of the forest."


    "I doubt they made it out of the forest alive," said Pan. "Telix is a demon and the son of the worst demon. There is no mercy in him. "


    Relma thought of Marsha. If Pan was right, she and the other girls were probably dead. "I hope you''re wrong."


    "I do as well," admitted Pan. "No matter. You should all get some rest. I''ll escort you all back to Gel Carn soon enough."


    "Weren''t you going to meet with Telix?" asked Relma.


    "We are far beyond negotiations at this stage," said Pan. "Benarus has started to gather his forces for war. Besides, your safety is important."


    "But what about all the people here?" asked Relma.


    "I''ll be helping them by going back," said Pan. "There will be a war; I''m certain of that now. What we need to do is prepare for it."


    "But Aunt Pan, Adrian helped us get back," said Relma. "If we go to war, the black dragons will side with Telix! I''ve seen them in action! They spit acid and can dissolve metal. And they move with incredible stealth."


    "We have more than one way to fight with the black dragons," said Pan. "If Adrian chooses to support Telix, then he''s against us.


    "Do you understand?"


    Relma remained silent for a long moment. Finally, she realized there was only one answer she could make. One that was acceptable anyway. Even if it was untrue. "Yes, Aunt Pan."


    "Good," said Pan. "Now, I''ll make arrangements for your rooms. You''ll bathe, and then you''ll go to bed early."


    "I want to talk to some of the other-" began Relma.


    "Now, Relma," said Pan. "I will take you to our room."


    Relma looked over to where Estela and Ronald were recounting their adventures. There was a reasonably large crowd around them now. Aunt Pan never let her do anything fun. "I understand."


    The following day, Relma awoke to great fanfare out the windows. Looking out of them, she saw a column of heavily armored men marching. They had large shields and clutched heavy spears. Their helms hid their faces. Above their ranks, they bore a green banner with the symbol of a golden sword surrounded by lightning.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    She dressed and rushed downstairs to find Estela and Ronald already up. "What''s going on?"


    "Steward Benarus has brought his troops out," said Estela. "Lord Marn is leading them. More soldiers are coming from the surrounding lands."


    "Father will be coming soon as well," said Ronald.


    "Whose idea was it to gather a huge army?" asked Relma.


    "That was me, my dear girl." said a familiar voice.


    Relma froze and looked up. She saw Aren sitting in one corner, smoking a pipe. How long had he been there? "Aren, what''s going on?"


    "Well, as soon as I realized that Telix was at work, I judged we''d need reinforcements," said Aren. "That was why I wasn''t able to help you against Ajax. I should have left some wards but didn''t anticipate Telix knowing your identity. Or even of you."


    And then Aunt Pan came down the stairs. "Father? Just what have you been doing? Why did you allow Relma to be kidnapped!"


    Aren took his pipe out of his mouth and sighed. "I didn''t allow anything. I met with Benarus, and then I left as a bird. I''ve been working for days to get help down here quickly.


    "Speaking of help, here it is."


    The door opened, and Lord Marn entered. He looked in a bad mood as he approached. "Arengeth, Pandora, I came as you requested. We''ve had a devil of a time getting the troops together."


    "We appreciate the effort," said Aren. "Things are on the verge of escalating into full-scale war. If we can''t convince Adrian to withdraw support for Telix, we''ll fight black dragons."


    "I''ve fought dragons before," said Marn.


    "True, but those were golden," said Aren. "Black dragons are of a very different sort. Much faster, and they can fly."


    "Different or no, we''ll handle them," said Argath. "I''ve developed some plans to deal with them." He looked to Tanith and then outside to his troops. "Before all this happened, I was planning to head for Artarq. Then, with things escalating, I thought I ought to fight the Calishans on their own shore. But fighting werewolves is just as well."


    "Man wolves," said Estela.


    Argath glanced up in surprise. "Well, you''re welcome to call them whatever you wish."


    At that moment, Tanith entered the inn as well. She was wearing full armor that must have been enchanted to look golden. Her two swords were by her side. "Lord Argath, I''ve finished scouting, and we''re being watched." Her fingers clenched around her sword, and Relma realized her hands were shaking. But a smile was on her face. "The wolves are in the trees all over. From the looks of things, we won''t be taking anybody by surprise this time."


    "Wonderful," said Argath. "Set up a sentry to keep watch and ensure no one rushes in. Our enemies are wolves and half-wolves. So they will know the forest better than we do. Then, once we''ve made a plan of attack, we''ll make arrangements."


    "Yes, sir," said Tanith.


    "Who is this, Argath?" asked Aren. "I don''t believe we''ve met."


    Argath looked nervously at Tanith, then to Aren. "Ah, this is my protege, Tanith. She came into my service during some raids and is a great soldier. She may become one of the best someday.


    "Tanith, this is Pandora and Gail Argengeth. I told you of them earlier, did I not?"


    "Yes, I remember," said Tanith, looking at them in disdain. "Rusara doesn''t like you very much."


    "You''ve met Rusara?" asked Aren.


    "She visited Carn Gable quite often," said Tanith.


    "Then you were trained in the service of House Gabriel," said Aren. "You keep odd company, Argath."


    "Well, if it''s any consolation, they don''t particularly like you either," said Tanith.


    "When you live as long as I do, you come to disregard the opinions of petty power mongers," said Aren.


    "No wonder you never get anything done," said Tanith.


    "Enough," said Argath. "Tanith, if you can''t be civil, you can start relaying the orders I''ve given."


    Tanith nodded. "As you wish, sir."


    Then she left.


    Argath watched her go. "The girl was raised in the company of House Gabriel, but she''s a true Harlenorian nonetheless. I''m trying to break her out of some of their bad habits, but it shows through."


    "Your never-ending efforts to redeem the lost inspire us all, Argath," said Aren.


    "Well, one does one''s best," said Argath with a slight smile. "Now, perhaps we should get down to business. How would you recommend we play this? Invade the forest directly? Or wait for them to come to us?"


    "That is the problem, isn''t it?" asked Aren. "I''ve been considering things. And I don''t think we''ll be able to get a victory without a massive cost. If we stay out here, Adrian Wrynncurth could burn us with acid. Under the trees, we''d have some shielding. But it would also leave us exposed to ambush."


    "Surely, your magic could help," said Argath.


    "A great deal," said Aren. "In fact, without them, Telix would be unstoppable. But I do not like the idea of either waiting to have acid rained down on us or venturing into a dark wood to be eaten by wolves.


    "We must find an alternative, one that is less costly.


    "Perhaps the spirit of the wood could be turned against Telix through... methods."


    "Aren, I don''t think that will work," said Relma.


    "Why not?" asked Aren, looking up.


    "When I was a prisoner, I tried to talk him into helping me escape," said Relma. "But he said he was loyal to Wrynncurth and through him, Telix."


    "Then he''ll work against us," Aren sighed. "I''ll have to get in contact with some of the woodsmen. With their help, navigating the wood would be somewhat easier."


    "We can''t fight them," said Relma.


    "Have you been paying attention, girl?" asked Argath.


    "No, but... look, many of the people serving Telix aren''t there by choice," said Relma. "He bent them to his will using magic and then transformed them. We should be trying to help them, not killing them."


    "They are likely already lost," said Pan.


    "That doesn''t mean we shouldn''t try!" said Relma.


    "And what would you suggest?" asked Aren.


    Relma paused. She thought about every old story she''d ever read about. Everything. And slowly, it all began to fit together. Finally, the answer was in front of her. "What about Lightning Trail?"


    "Lightning Trail?" asked Argath. "What does that have to do with anything?"


    " Lightning Trail is the Blade of Freedom," said Relma. "One of its powers is to negate the will of demons. Or that was what many of the old stories used to say."


    "Not any stories I heard," muttered Argath.


    "It was also blessed by the spirits of the land," said Relma. "They swore to serve the wielder. If someone could draw it, then perhaps-"


    "No one has drawn Lightning Trail since Anoa IX was killed by Baltoth in an ambush," said Argath. "And even if someone could be found to draw it, it''s in the middle of Adrian''s territory. So it would be a suicide mission."


    "Let me try then!" said Relma. "I''m not doing any good here-"


    "Enough, Relma," said Aren. "We won''t speak of this now."


    "But-" began Relma.


    "Enough," said Aren. "Forgive the girl, Argath. She recently escaped from Telix''s clutches. Pan, please explain things."


    For the second time, Aunt Pan took Relma to one side. "Listen to me, Relma. You are not worthy to wield that blade. You might never be respected. And even if you were, the time could be better for it. The way must be cleared, which will take a long time.


    "The Dukes and Barons and Kings of Harlenor divided may claim they are devoted. But they won''t yield to someone just because they drew the sword. It will take many years of preparation-"


    "People are going to die, Aunt Pan," said Relma. "What if I can save them? Lightning Trail could free all the people whom Telix took control of. It could turn the forest against him."


    Pan looked at Relma with narrowed eyes. "One day, Relma, you may play a part in the creation of Harlenor Reunited. But that day is far from here. So now you three will go back to your room.


    "We have work to do."


    So, they were dismissed. Estela and Ronald didn''t seem to mind, which made it worse. Relma sat on her bed, looking at the floor. The story was over. It was all out of her hands.


    She didn''t like feeling powerless like this.


    A lot of people were going to die if she didn''t do anything. But what could she do?


    "It isn''t so bad, Relma. Aren and your aunt Pan can handle all this," said Ronald. "They''ve been handling this kind of thing for ages."


    "Yes, but we''ve dropped out of the story," noted Estela.


    "What do you mean?" asked Ronald.


    "We''re just going to be a footnote in what goes on out there," said Estela. "A minor side story."


    "Who cares about that? We''re safe, and now things will work out," said Ronald.


    "If Telix doesn''t win, you mean," said Estela.


    "Do you have to ruin everything, Estela?" asked Ronald.


    "What? We Vortegex''s have a long history of coping with defeat," said Estela. "It is always possible to lose a battle, no matter how one-sided. That was the lesson of the Escorian Civil War. And this one isn''t one-sided.


    "Hey, Relma, do you think Telix might win? If he beats Argath, he''ll probably lay siege to Gel Carn. After that, we''ll get called up to do battle.


    "I don''t know," admitted Relma.


    Then something took hold of her. Something urged her to stand and walk to the door. "I''m going to take a walk."


    Her walk did not lead her out of the inn but further into it. As she walked, she came to Aunt Pan''s room. She wondered why she was here. Then, raising a hand to knock, she heard a voice.


    "I hope you''re pleased with yourself, Father," said Pan.


    "I am very pleased, to be honest," said Aren.


    "You''ve put it into Relma''s head that she''s going to be queen one day," said Pan. "Ever since you revealed things to her, she''s been trying to make herself stand out."


    "The pursuit of glory is a natural inclination for young people. It''s healthy," said Aren.


    "No, it isn''t!" said Pan. "How many villages have we seen burned down by young knights lusting for glory? How many kingdoms have fallen? And all because people like Anoa the Bright wanted to make themselves a name!"


    "Quite a few, I''d wager," said Aren. "It doesn''t change the fact that the drive to excel is not a bad thing. Though it can be put to bad use. The point is there wouldn''t be any kingdoms if nobody were ambitious."


    "Stop dodging the issue, Father!" said Pan.


    "The girl needed to know sooner or later," said Aren.


    "No, she didn''t!" snapped Pan. "Relma was never supposed to become Queen! We''re a generation too early! She''s not the important one! It''s her son we need! Her son!"


    Relma froze.


    Then she turned and walked away. That was it, wasn''t it? All this time, Relma had been wrong. She''d assumed the secretive nature of things had been to disguise some great destiny. But it hadn''t been. They''d been hiding that she was just another link in the chain.


    She could have gone her entire life without knowing and still fulfilled her purpose. To have a child who would get all the glory and honor. While she would just be a footnote.


    It suddenly seemed ridiculous to her. She''d thought her blood made her essential. But all those ancient bloodlines returning to prominence were only the end of the story. Instead, they focused on the lucky bastard at the end of the chain, the one who got to be king. The one who was hailed as a hero.


    While everyone before them was nothing. Less than nothing. History left off with the last reigning king and picked up with the return.


    To hell with that.


    Relma stalked up to Estela and Ronald''s door and pulled it open. "Pack your things; we''re going."


    "What do you mean we''re going?" asked Ronald.


    "Aunt Pan and Aren think I''m no good," said Relma. "Well, I''ll show them. I''ll draw Lightning Trail myself and make them see."


    Estela blinked. "All right. Let''s go, Ronald."


    "What?" said Ronald. "But we can''t just up and leave."


    "We can, and we are," said Relma. "Now, let''s get our stuff together."


    "Come on, Ronald," said Estela. "If we find Lightning Trail, we''ll have a story. People might forget about that sword we lost. We just have to get there."


    "That''s the hard part, though, isn''t it," said Ronald. "I''m not going."


    "Please, Ronald," said Relma. "I have to do this."


    "Why do you have to do this?" asked Ronald.


    Relma hesitated. "Because... because Aunt Pan just wants me to have a child and use him for something. As far as she''s concerned, my whole reason for living is to have a child. That''s why she never taught me anything. I was just supposed to be the bridge in the gap between one generation and the next.


    "I want to be more than that. But she''ll never let me do it on my own."


    Ronald remained silent. "...Fine. I''ll help you. But we won''t rush off in the middle of the day. And if we survive, no more adventures."


    "Thanks, Ronald, you''re the best," said Relma.


    "Now come on. We''ve got to get together some equipment," said Ronald. "I still have my pack, but Relma will need one. And also a weapon."


    "We could snag some from the armory tent," said Estela.


    "We are not stealing," said Ronald.


    "Fine," said Estela, "I''ll buy what we need, and then we''ll get going.


    "We should prepare during the day and leave at night."


    "Good," said Relma. "Thanks a lot."


    "What are we going to do instead?" asked Estela. "Just go home?"


    Ronald stalked out, muttering to himself.

 Chapter Thirteen: Into the Hills

    Preparations took the whole day. Fortunately, Pan and Aren were planning with Marn for most of it. So they were able to gather supplies freely. Finally, when darkness began to fall, they made their final preparations. Despite Ronald''s objections, Estela somehow got her hands on another sword. She''d also called Relma a dagger.


    "Shouldn''t we leave a note for your aunt?" asked Ronald.


    "No," said Relma. "Why should I?"


    "She''ll be worried," said Ronald.


    "She can be worried for all I care," said Relma. She had not gotten any less angry. Relma was supposed to be just one more link in a chain of nameless people.


    People who would never achieve anything or be remembered at all.


    People like her Father and Mother were only necessary because of how they related to Relma. And if Relma didn''t act now, she''d only be known in how she said to her son. She''d be some pathetic Mother who died or was incorruptible and kindhearted. She never did anything extraordinary.


    Relma could see it now. Some curly-haired blue-eyed brat asking stupid questions of Aunt Pandora. Doing exactly as he was told and fulfilling his role.


    Never.


    Relma was chosen by Anoa.


    She was the Heir of Kings. Whether Pandora wanted it or not.


    "Relma, if she thinks you''ve been kidnapped again, she might try and invade," said Ronald. "People could get killed. So we need to leave a note."


    It was a good point.


    "Fine," said Relma. "Estela, can I dictate to you?"


    "Yes," said Estela.


    "I could do it," said Ronald.


    "You could, but I asked Estela," said Relma.


    Estela took out a quill and paper that Ronald had bought earlier, probably for this purpose. She set out some ink and dipped a quill, then looked up.


    "Dear Aunt Pan,


    "I am not your brood mother. I am going to be King. When you read this, I will be halfway to Lightning Trail.


    "Go to hell.


    "Love,


    "Relma."


    Estela wrote it out quickly. Ronald stared. "...You sure you don''t want to try it again."


    "Not really. I''d like to see the look on her face," said Relma. "Let''s go."


    They slipped out of the inn. As they walked, they found a house in which Marn had placed command. They could see through an upper window Aunt Pan speaking with Aren.


    "What do you suppose they''re talking about?" asked Ronald.


    "Something about destiny," said Relma. "I don''t really care." S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Soon, they reached the gate and found it guarded. As they approached, they found Tanith leaning beneath the gatehouse. She was smiling, speaking with another guard. Then she glanced up as they came.


    "Hold where you are. Where are you going?" asked Tanith.


    "We''re going out for a walk," said Relma. "That''s all."


    "Sure, you are." scoffed Tanith. "Carrying equipment for a week-long journey. "I''m on the watch to make sure the werewolves-"


    "Man wolves," said Estela.


    "-werewolves don''t go hunting people," said Tanith. "No one is supposed to be out at night. It''s suicide.


    "We''re only taking a short walk," said Relma. "And we''ll be-"


    "Tanith," said Estela, "get out of our way."


    "I have," said Tanith. Not moving an inch. "The way back is behind you. Marn wants to keep a leash on you three."


    "Leash?" said Estela, hand going for her sword.


    "Or a chain. Whichever you prefer," said Tanith.


    Estela drew her sword. But even as she did so, Tanith''s two blades came out and knocked it from her hand. One of them was at her throat.


    "You don''t really think your rank makes you anywhere near me, do you?" asked Tanith. "Get out of here." She kicked the sword to Estela.


    "Estela, come on," said Relma. "We can''t start a fight here."


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    Estela grabbed the sword, and they retreated. As they walked, Ronald led them forward. It seemed that things were over already. Still, no one was following them. Tanith seemed entirely satisfied to remain behind.


    She probably wouldn''t care at all if they got eaten by werewolves. Just so long as she didn''t get the blame for it. Tanith was such a horrible person.


    "We''ll go over the wall. Okay?" said Relma.


    "Do you know anything about climbing?" asked Estela.


    "Well, not really," admitted Relma. "But I''m sure it can''t be that hard."


    "Not to worry. I have a rope and grapple for just such an occasion," said Ronald. He drew them out of his pack as they made for the staircase leading up the wall. "Father always says, "''Son, if you ever go adventuring, always bring a rope and grapple. You''ll never know when you have to climb something.''"


    Lord Fulsof was a veritable fountain of knowledge about adventuring, wasn''t he? "Right," said Relma. "Well, I''ll thank him when next we see him."


    They halted within sight of the wall. There, they saw guards patrolling on top of it. Relma waited until he passed, only to be halted by Estela. "Wait a moment longer. Now. Follow my lead."


    They slipped quietly up the wall with Estela as their guide. Then, when they reached the top, Ronald quickly set up the rope. When it was tied, he tested it.


    "Now quick, we''ve got to go down," said Ronald. "Shame, we''ll have to leave the rope."


    Climbing was more challenging than it looked. Estela had a great time of it, effortlessly slipping down it without any effort. However, Ronald banged his knee on the way down, and then his grip slipped. He slid the rest of the way down and almost howled in pain.


    Estela covered his mouth to muffle the noise. Ronald breathed out and calmed down. His hands had gone red from the friction.


    "Don''t you know anything about scaling ropes?" asked Estela.


    "I know it''s a lot harder than it looks," said Ronald.


    Estela looked up to Relma, who was starting down. "Plant your feet on the wall and walk your way down. Do what I did; now come on."


    As Relma began to scale her way down, her body ached with exertion. As she gradually walked downward, she looked up. Then she heard the sounds of a struggle.


    "To arms!!" she heard Estela yell. "Man wolves on the wall!"


    Looking down, she saw a chaotic mess of fur. There was a howl, and then something darted off into the night. Horns were blown as Relma reached the bottom to see Estela''s sword bloodied.


    "To arms!" went the call. "To arms!"


    "Into the hills, quickly!" said Estela.


    They ran as the garrison was roused. Relma looked to Estela. "It was lucky we were there. Otherwise, they could have attacked."


    "That wasn''t an attack. If it were, they''d have cut our throats and launched it anyway. All while they had the advantage of surprise," said Estela. "And anyway, there were too few of them.


    "No, that was a scouting party checking for weaknesses.


    "With any luck, the guards will think they tied the rope."


    "Tied a rope to the top of a wall from thirty feet?" asked Ronald. "They must have long arms."


    "Oh right," said Estela.


    They sprinted in silence for a time, heading toward the hills. As they drew near Adrian''s domain, it began to get colder. The grass faded to brown. Bushes and trees became scraggly. Finally, they stopped behind a hillock.


    "Now that I think of it, they''ll probably tell Telix that a small party was trying to slip away from the walls," said Ronald. "We should go back."


    "We''ve come this far. We won''t give up now," said Relma.


    "Ajax may know we''re leaving soon!" said Ronald.


    "Then we have to hurry ahead," said Relma. "I''m not giving up. This is important."


    "Do you even know what kind of dangers we can expect in the hills?" asked Ronald.


    "Ogres, if the stories are true," said Relma. "Though they don''t dare venture into civilized territory."


    "Well, we''re about to venture into theirs," said Estela. "Come on, let''s pick up the pace. Ronald, you halflings can see better in the dark, can''t you?"


    "No," said Ronald. "What made you think that."


    "Well, I mean, you''ve got the blessings of the Sun Spirit," said Estela.


    "That just means we can channel its energies more easily," said Ronald. "We still have to create lights to see by. We''re not goblins."


    "Right. Right," said Estela. "So, can you see anything?"


    "No, Estela. I don''t have better vision than you," said Ronald. "I just said that."


    "No, you said halflings don''t have better vision than humans," noted Estela. "That doesn''t mean you don''t have better vision than me-"


    "Can we keep moving?" asked Ronald.


    They made their way on and up the slopes of the black mountain. The trees had gone away entirely, and the wind was kicking up. The heavy cloaks Ronald had had Estela buy were of excellent service here.


    They walked slowly but surely upwards.


    "So how do you think your Aunt Pan will react?" asked Ronald.


    "Ask me if I care," said Relma.


    Then, there was a cry of unfathomable rage from far below. Was it Relma, or had the sun darkened slightly? It''s probably just her imagination.


    "That certainly is a reaction," said Estela.


    "Run!" said Relma.


    They ran as quickly as they could up the slopes. Fortunately, the black mountain gradually ascended, making it more accessible. Even so, the footing was treacherous, and Relma nearly slipped once or twice.


    "Do you think she''ll follow us?" asked Ronald.


    "Only if we''re close," said Relma. "She can''t afford to drop everything just to follow us."


    "Are you sure?" asked Estela.


    "If we run very fast, yes," said Relma.


    "Let''s look for a cave," said Estela. "Legends say that the sorceress Pandora can transform into a bird. Unfortunately, we might not see her coming until it''s too late."


    Suddenly, Relma halted.


    She saw Anoa. The Bright King was standing at the top of a rise with a hand upstretched. Relma blinked, and then suddenly, he was gone. She made for him. "...This way."


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Estela.


    "I''ve just seen an old friend," said Relma.


    "Which one?" asked Ronald. "I''ve known you since you were a baby."


    "Someone you never met," said Relma.


    "Who?" asked Ronald.


    Why was Relma bothering to conceal this? It didn''t make any sense. "Anoa the Bright, all right. I met him once a couple of months ago. He just appeared to me."


    "Why would he appear to you?" asked Estela.


    Relma looked at her in irritation. "Because I''m the Heir of Kings."


    "Of course you are," said Estela. "Never let anyone tell you otherwise, kid."


    "If you don''t believe me, why are you following me?" asked Relma.


    "Well, none of us know where we''re going except up," said Estela. "We''re still going up. So we may as well follow you."


    "Look there, a cave," said Ronald.


    Sure enough, there was a cave. It was huge, but delved into the rock so that one could not see it unless they were above it. But it was next to a rock face that leaned a little forward. So only by standing where they were could they see it.


    "...That doesn''t prove anything," said Estela.


    "Look, if I''m not the Heir of Kings, why would Pandora and Gail Arengeth go to all the trouble of raising me?" asked Relma.


    "Well, the real heirs died out years ago. They could be planning to put a puppet on the throne of Harlenor Reunited," said Estela. "That''s what I''d do."


    "Well, if I was nobody special, why would they want me to bear a child to put on the throne?" asked Relma as they walked down. "Tell me that?"


    "They are making the plan needlessly complicated," said Estela as they entered the cave. "Sorcerers do that sometimes."


    "Oh, please do talk about Harlenor Reunited while trespassing in my domain." said an unfathomably evil voice. "It amuses me to no end to hear you babble." They froze. Then, the cave door closed shut with a snap. They were trapped.

 Chapter Fourteen: The Giant

    The three of them turned around in the darkness and heard the sound of their own breathing very clearly. And above that, there was an unholy rasping in the air. Relma shuddered, wondering what lay behind them as she turned around.


    "Who are you?" she asked.


    "I might ask you the same question." said whatever it was in a deep, dark voice. "It is fortunate for you that I''ve gotten out of the habit of eating humans and halflings. Or I might have devoured at least one of you before asking you for your business.


    "It had best be interesting. Or I may devour you just to be sure."


    "Um, we''re no one special," said Relma before realizing that no one special would end up chomped. "Just hiding from Pandora the Sorceress." There, a hook. He could ask for more information.


    "Pandora, the Sorceress?" asked the voice. "You intrigue me. What did you do to anger her?"


    "We went looking for Lightning Trail against her explicit orders," said Relma.


    "Did you now?" asked whatever it was. "Well, then, you must be someone relatively important to her. I wonder if I might be able to make use of you as a hostage..."


    "It wouldn''t be worth the effort," said Relma. "I''m just a servant to her; she keeps me around to do her scullery work. But she''s obsessed with controlling other people. I''m trying to escape from her.


    "But if she were to find out I was dead, well, she doesn''t take kindly to people damaging her property."


    "An attitude I can respect." laughed the voice. "Now, I wonder if I should devour you last of all. You seem more interesting than the other two."


    "You don''t want to devour us," squeaked Ronald.


    "Why not?" asked the voice.


    "Because there will be a pack of man-wolves under Telix coming this way soon," said Estela. "They''ll track us to this cave. Then, they''ll want to take us prisoner when they get here. And if we''re dead, they''ll take it out on killers."


    "And how will they get past the cave door I''ve shut?" asked the voice.


    "You must know how powerful Telix really is," said Relma. "They''ll get it open."


    "A servant, and yet you claim you are being followed by the servants of Telix," mused the voice. "Why would you warrant such treatment?"


    He probably knew she was lying. But every moment he was asking her questions was a moment he wasn''t eating it. "Not me. Estela. She had a run-in with Ajax, Telix''s son, and he came off the worse for it."


    "Well, this story is becoming very elaborate, isn''t it?" asked the voice. "What were you doing fighting with Ajax anyway?" S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "She was trying to rescue me as a favor to Pandora," said Relma. "More about making a name for herself than saving me, though."


    "Really?" asked the voice. "And how did you escape?"


    Relma shifted. "You might have noticed a fire in the woods."


    "So now you''ve started a forest fire and angered Pandora." said the voice. "My, you are good at piecing all these things together, aren''t you. Of course, I''m unsure if I should believe a word of it."


    "Well, if Ajax and company find this cave, it will prove my story, won''t it?" asked Relma.


    "I suppose it would," admitted the voice. "I wasn''t in the mood for devouring things on two legs anyway. I am Ergath, the Giant. I keep sheep in these hills."


    Suddenly, five lights like small, dull suns flared to life at five points on the ceiling. Rays of light shot between them, so they took the form of a star. And their captor was revealed.


    He was gigantic. He had long, thick fingers and rough blue skin. His arms and legs were like tree trunks and long for his body. He was sitting at the far end of a cave, wearing a blue turban, a woolen vest, and pants. There was a blue flame on his brow. Over his knees was a long scimitar. "I''d like to offer you what hospitality I can. If indeed these ''man wolves'' track you down, I''ll be certain to let you go on your way with what help I can give. If they don''t, I''ll devour all three of you whole."


    Relma came forward and bowed. "I am Relma, the dark-haired girl is Estela, and the halfling is my best friend, Ronald. You''re very kind."


    "Well, one ought to be kind to guests," said Ergath. "Even uninvited ones. Come in; I have water and cheese if you want it."


    There was a command in that voice. And nobody dared question it.


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    As it turned out, the water came from an underground spring within one of the side passages. There were a great many fluffy white sheep. While they ate, Ergath entertained himself by watching them.


    As he did, he would pick up a sheep and draw out a gigantic knife larger than any sword. Then, he would cut the wool off the sheep like carving a wood block. He was marvelously skilled at it, too, and held his sheep with very gentle hands.


    "Relma, what are we doing here?" asked Ronald.


    "Improvising," said Relma.


    The cheese was delicious. It had a tangy yet smooth taste. Relma reflected that Ajax might have yet to come after them. If so, Relma should try to make Ergath like them. It couldn''t hurt their chances. "Mighty Ergath, you said you''d give us what help you could," said Relma. "Are you knowledgeable about Lightning Trail?"


    "Very," said Ergath, hands sheering off wool. "You see, every so often, you get adventurers trying to climb the mountain to take it. When you live up here, you know the routes they will take. It makes it easier to ambush them.


    "And since many of them are counting on drawing the weapon, they often have information. I''ve picked up a book or two in my time. They''re over there if you want them."


    He motioned to what appeared to be a plain stone wall. But the stone receded when he flicked his hands and revealed an entire chamber. Within were dozens upon dozens of books. Relma wished she was better at reading. But, unfortunately, her lessons hadn''t gotten very far. "Thank you very much."


    "This is lucky," said Estela. "We''ll be able to learn more about Lightning Trail and how to draw it before we get there."


    "Or before we get eaten," muttered Ronald. "How do you even know Ajax is coming after you?"


    "Well, if I were him, I''d be itching for revenge," said Estela. "The real question is if the messenger found him and Telix gave him leave to go find us. We are on the verge of a battle."


    "And if Ajax can get past the stone," noted Relma. "Though if they kidnapped me again, they might be able to avoid a battle. That was why they did it in the first place."


    "I don''t think you''re that important," said Estela.


    "Well, Telix thinks so," said Relma. "So if he thinks he can grab us, he probably will."


    "Cheese?" said Ronald.


    It was a different kind. Relma took it. "Um, thank you."


    Estela went into the library while Relma and Ronald ate. A little while later, she returned with a book and opened it. "Look at this."


    Relma tried to figure out what it said. She could make out the letters but couldn''t remember how they all fit together. "Um, maybe you could tell me what it is."


    "Right," said Estela, giving the book to Ronald, "it says here that Lightning Trail was given to Anoa by Elranor. Anoa the Bright wielded it in battle and was undefeated. As he used it, the sword became bound to the bloodline. Only those with the blood of Elranor could wield it."


    "That much is common knowledge," said Relma. "How did it end up in the sky anyway?"


    "Well, according to this, Aren drove it into the sky long ago. He proclaimed that the one who could draw it would be King of Harlenor," said Ronald. "Many people started trying to draw it, but nobody ever succeeded.


    "So, the Kingdom fractured."


    "That doesn''t sound right," said Relma.


    "Oh, I should mention that that story is one of the later ones," said Ergath, not looking up from his sheep. "If you want something old, you''ll want one of these."


    He motioned, and one of the bookcases began to shudder. One of the books was worked out and fell to land on the ground. The ground shuddered beneath it, shaking it along the bottom until it reached them.


    "Couldn''t you treat the books more carefully?" asked Estela. "These are valuable."


    "I can''t read them," admitted Ergath. "The text is too small. Though I put some enchantments to make them more durable and water-resistant."


    Relma picked up the book. It was a massive, leather-clad tome held together by steel. It was cumbersome, and she saw no pictures as she flipped it open. Just a spidery scrawl. She glanced up. "What is this?"


    "This was stolen by my great-grandfather," said Ergath. "He was alive during the days of Anoa IX."


    Estela grabbed the book and flipped through it. "That can''t be right."


    "What is it?" asked Relma.


    "This is a journal," said Estela. "The person who wrote it signed it Anoa X, rightful King of Harlenor United."


    "There was no Anoa X," said Relma. "Everyone knows that."


    "According to this, he had to go into exile when he was very young. Anoa IX was having trouble keeping his generals in line," said Estela. "Then Baltoth murdered him in an ambush. After that, all the Generals proclaimed themselves the rightful king.


    "There was a huge civil war, and they all carved out their kingdoms."


    "But that can''t be right," said Ronald. "Everyone knows that Elranor commanded the three kingdoms to remain separate. At least until the time Harlenor Reunited came about. Anoa IX''s son was murdered by Calishan assassins."


    "They probably changed the history later," said Estela. "Kings do that all the time to make themselves look good. We Vortegex''s have a long history of doing just that."


    "But why would they betray Anoa X?" asked Relma.


    "Because they wanted to be king, I wager," said Estela with a shrug. "He was probably a child when it happened. So he wouldn''t be able to do much to stop them."


    "So what about the Calishan assassins?" asked Relma.


    "The three kings probably tried to murder Anoa X and failed," said Estela. "Then they just pretended he was dead to quell any possible uprisings."


    Relma realized that the book was written by her ancestors. "How does that journal end?"


    "It says here that Anoa X grew up in the care of Gail Arengeth," said Estela. "Then Baltoth began an invasion of Harlenor. With everyone divided, no one could stop him. So Gail drove Lightning Trail into the sky and made the three kings vow to support the one who drew it. In return, he promised that anyone worthy to rule Harlenor could remove it.


    "Then he allowed each one to try, and all failed.


    "The journal says Anoa X was going to try his luck at Gail''s urgings."


    "And then my ancestor ate him," said Ergath. "Well, that''s quite satisfying."


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "Anoa the Bright tried to wipe all the giants out," said Ergath. "We were driven to near extinction by him."


    "I can''t imagine why," muttered Estela.


    "My sheep have a similar opinion of humans," said Ergath. "Actually, I didn''t know any of this."


    "Why not?" asked Relma. But wait, he already told her.


    "I told you," said Ergath. "I can''t focus on the letters."


    Relma saw an opportunity. But she couldn''t take it because she couldn''t read.


    "Would you like me to read these books to you?" asked Estela. "You could learn all about what''s inside them?"


    "Well, that does seem a decent reason to keep you alive a while longer." mused Ergath. "Read on, human."


    So Estela had been thinking the same thing. At the very least, it would buy them time. And then, she could gradually get Ergath to like her and the others. She was making progress. They could get out of here and find Lightning Trail with any luck.


    Without it?


    Well, they could end up a giant''s meal.

 Chapter Fifteen: The Caverns of the Goblins

    Estela read many books for Ergath that day, pausing only to eat and drink. He listened as he sheared his sheep one by one with a practiced skill and gentle hand. It was apparent the creatures were quite fond of him. Now and again, he would look down to ask a question, seeming to have genuine interest. Sometimes Estela would have an answer, sometimes she would not.


    Either way, Ergath''s reaction would be the same. He would make a sound with his mouth and not look up. If not for the questions, Relma thought she wouldn''t know if he was listening at all. Ronald set about cooking a meal from the supplies he had gathered. Eating cheese was something one could get sick of very quickly. Relma would have offered to help, but Ronald preferred people to help with his cooking. Halflings took that kind of thing personally.


    So she found herself with nothing to do at all. Relma didn''t like not being necessary and spent this time petting some of the sheep. As she did, she wondered if her Father, Hadleim, had ever been to a place like this. He''d been a great warrior, hadn''t he?


    It didn''t really interest her.


    She looked up to Ergath. "So, do you have any family?" she asked.


    "No, nothing of the sort," said Ergath, shaking his head. "Living together under one roof is a peculiarity of the smaller races. We giants are far more sensible. Children are raised by their mothers and sent out independently once they are mature.


    "We keep in some contact; we''ve had to do so, what with the occasional army that tries to root us out. But we keep to ourselves for the most part."


    "You keep a strange hoard for a giant," noted Estela.


    "Well, it isn''t a good idea to hoard treasure when you live so close to the black dragons," said Ergath, raising one hand and moving it through the air. "So we hoard other valuable items. My family accumulates books and keeps them in good condition.


    "We''ve picked up the details of reading the text quickly enough. We just kidnapped some educated merchants and forced them to show us. It helps communicate, but the text is too small to read.


    "Still, they are valuable."


    "But how do you know so much about your father if he didn''t raise you?" asked Relma. She knew only what she had been told by Argath and Aunt Pan. Which wasn''t very much, though she hadn''t asked that much. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Relma should ask more about Hadleim when she gets the chance. The information might prove useful, and it could look bad if she didn''t know it.


    "Well, I was the youngest and strongest," said Ergath with a smile. "So I was sent by my late mother to act as his heir. One of my sisters stayed with her and inherited Mother''s cave."


    "And where is that?" asked Relma.


    "Oh, some miles off," said Ergath, stretching his huge shoulders as he shifted in his stone seat. "The exact location escapes me. I haven''t been back there for many years." He put down the sheep he was shearing, and another came onto his lap.


    "Don''t you ever miss your family?" asked Relma.


    "Well, I meet them occasionally," said Ergath, stretching his neck. He did not seem to like sitting still. "But we giants don''t really mind being on our own. We don''t hunt in packs like humans or wolves."


    "We aren''t anything like wolves," said Estela.


    Ergath looked down. "Are you so certain?"


    No one said anything. There wasn''t anything to say.


    Then Ergath looked up. He closed his eyes, then opened them. Relma had the feeling he had sensed something and wondered how he had. "...Ah, here they are. You spoke correctly. I will not eat you or your friends, after all. They are still some miles off, and they may not find us.


    "I suggest you finish your meal."


    They did it very quickly. Then Ergath took them to the mouth of the cave and motioned. It slid open to reveal the distant figures of Ajax and Anya, making their way up the slopes. They were accompanied by many wolves.


    Suddenly, Anya halted. "Hold up. I smell giants. And also, Relma."


    "You don''t think she''s dead, do you?" asked Ajax, concerned.


    "No," said Anya. "There is no blood or death in the air. Likely being held captive."


    "What kind of giant takes captives?" asked Ajax.


    "The intelligent kind," said Anya.


    They were looking right at them now and very near. Yet they couldn''t see.


    "Why can''t they see us?" asked Ronald.


    "I have established wards upon this place," said Ergath. "No one can see past it unless they are allowed."


    "Then you let us in?" said Relma.


    "I was interested to see what you would do," said Ergath. "Still, wolves have a keen sense of smell. I expect Ajax will find his way in eventually. I will be leaving the door open, after all." He hefted his scimitar. "When he does, he will find me waiting. So tonight, I dine on the children of Telix.


    "Still, a deal is a deal, and I shall open the way to Lightning Trail."


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    He led them into the main halls and opened another passage. As the stone ground opened, Relma examined it with interest. This one was smaller, and he had to hunch over to enter it. A faint, oozy smell came down it, along with the water drip. You could see moss growing over it in various places. "This passage was dug by my Father. It was made to ambush those who reached the peak of the Black Mountain. It will lead you straight to Lightning Trail."


    So the giants could delve into great tunnels and know how to ambush. Relma would have to remember this when she became King. She could use the knowledge to her benefit later. And if she didn''t, it could be used against her.


    "Thank you, Ergath," said Ergath. "Without you, I''d have been caught for sure."


    "It is no trouble. I will eat well because of this," said Ergath.


    "Are you sure you''ll be able to defeat Ajax?" asked Estela.


    "I know many spells. And this is my home ground," said Ergath. "This will be my first battle in a decade. And it will be a worthy one indeed.


    "Now go; Ajax is working at my defenses. I shall delay his coming as long as I can in case I am defeated. When you come to the crossroads, take the left passage. Right leads down to the old goblin empire.


    "And at the next crossroads, you''ll take a right, then-"He paused. "Never mind, you''ll never remember it. It''s far too complicated. So I''ll take you there myself."


    "What about your sheep?" asked Relma.


    Ergath motioned. The pen in which he kept the sheep shuddered, and the wall opened to reveal a passage leading upwards. The sheep scaled up it without a word. Relma shuddered as she felt a sense of unease came over her. Just how powerful must Ergath be to command the mountain itself?


    She definitely had to make sure the giants were on her side when she became King. Either that or put the problem down another way. Which she did not want to do. She liked Ergath.


    "Come," said Ergath. "We have a ways to go."


    He led them through the dark passage, summoning a sphere of light to see by. It gradually got smaller, and soon Ergath could hardly fit. Yet he showed no distress or discomfort, smiling as he clambered.


    "Did your ancestors really dig all this out?" asked Relma. It must have taken a great deal of work. Humans or dwarves would have difficulty with these caverns.


    "Not all of it, no," admitted Ergath. "We connected our passages to an existing cave system. These were once inhabited by the old goblin empire."


    "Goblins?" asked Estela. "Aren''t they all dead?"


    The passage widened to reveal a vast natural cavern. The ceiling alone rose high, with many crude arches keeping it up. By the dim light of Ergath''s spell, she could make out images on the walls of great ziggurats rising high into the air. Many of them were overgrown with red and white flowers. Relma couldn''t see very far, but she could hear running water. The air here was also cleaner, which meant wind must come into here now and again.


    "The goblins were a small race of green-skinned creatures," said Ergath. "They only lived a few weeks and were small, weak, and stupid. But they multiplied and were skilled with rope and woodworking. The elves fought many wars with them, but they delved deep into the earth to escape them.


    "The elves and dwarves made many alliances. Both of them hated goblins and wanted them gone. The dragons helped them."


    "So, where did humans play into this?" asked Estela.


    "In those days, humans were minor players," said Ergath. "Goblins and humans were of the same generation. Both awoke after the elves and dragons at the beginning of the world. But because the goblins reproduced so quickly, they became their own faster. As a result, they were more of a problem for the elves.


    "Humans were something of an afterthought in those days." He muttered something, and his light brightened. Relma looked around and saw that the cavern was far larger than she''d thought. There was an underground river running through it. Many spikes were coming from the top and bottom of the cave. What were they called again? And how did they form?


    "So what happened to them?" asked Ronald.


    "The humans came into their own," said Ergath without passion. "Anoa the Bright made an alliance with the goblins. He used their tunnels to go quickly from one place to another. Their tunnels were of invaluable service during the wars. He also used them as shock troops during many of the battles.


    "While doing that, he allied with them to locate all their cities and map out their caves. When the elves were defeated, he allied with the satyrs and dwarves. From there, he launched a series of campaigns to wipe them out. He succeeded where the elves failed."


    "Anoa wouldn''t do something like that," said Relma.


    Ergath stopped and looked at her. "Have you ever heard of the Road of Ancient Stone, child?"


    Relma shuddered as the air grew just a bit colder. "...I''ve heard about it. Nobody likes to speak of it, and whenever they mention it, everyone gets serious."


    "That is because it was once the heart of goblin civilization," said Ergath. "Until Anoa the Bright began his campaign. He burned every city and village. He slaughtered every goblin he could find. The mountains stank of corpses, and the cliffs ran red with blood. And he took no booty or gold.


    "None in that campaign gained anything by their destruction. On the contrary, it was pure malice that drove them. Malice and hatred.


    "Such was the horror of the deed that the Road of Ancient Stone connected with the hells. One who walks into that place now steps into a realm where the hell has been made manifest.


    "At any rate, now you know why Anoa is called ''the Butcher'' by his former enemies. Or at least the ones he didn''t wipe out."


    "What is your source on this?" asked Estela.


    "The knowledge was passed down through my family. So we''ve kept outstanding records," said Ergath. "Though our books are far too large for you to get any use out of them." He looked up and pricked his pointed ears. "...Hmm, they''ve broken through our wards. Now, they''re following after us at a rapid pace. Come, it''s just a little further. Then we''ll part ways."


    The natural caverns faded away. Soon, they scaled a winding passage that led steadily up like a spiral staircase. The drip of water could be heard still, but the river faded away.


    Finally, they turned the last corner and saw daylight ahead of them. They quickened their pace and soon emerged from the cave entrance. It was suddenly bitterly cold, and Relma pulled her cloak closer around her. The peak of the mountain stretched ever higher above her. The wind howled.


    "And here we are," said Ergath. "From here, just keep on this path, and you''ll come out near the very peak of the mountain. The sword is at the top."


    "What about you?" asked Relma.


    "I''ll deal with these irritating wolves as I had intended," said Ergath. "I''ll be behind you; I just need to set a trap or two." And he kneeled down to begin muttering incantations.


    "Thank you, Ergath," said Relma.


    They scaled upwards. Once they got past the cave, Relma caught a glimpse. They were near the very top of the Black Mountain. Far below them are all the forests, towns, hills, and rivers of Gel Carn. It and the surrounding lands were like little models. Relma found her breath catching in her throat.


    "You seem remarkably chummy with that ogre, considering he meant to eat us," said Ronald.


    "He didn''t, though. And now he''s helping us," said Relma, turning to keep climbing.


    "Whatever you say," said Ronald.


    Relma focused. They were always there. Only a little further, and Lightning Trail would be theirs. Then, there was an earthshaking, crushing noise, and a howl of rage.


    It was time to go.

 Chapter Sixteen: Lightning Trail

    They looked back toward the cave entrance, and Relma was expecting to see Ajax coming up after her in a rage. Smoke was rising in high clouds, and snarling and fighting was heard. She saw no one yet, and that relieved her. She was not looking forward to the idea of having to fight Ajax. If she could just stall until she got Lightning Trail, though.


    "What is going on?" asked Ronald.


    "It must have been the trap Ergath set," said Estela. "Hurry up, both of you."


    "I hope Ajax and the others are alive," murmured Relma as they climbed.


    Estela gave Relma a look. "You''re joking."


    "They aren''t bad people," argued Relma. "Just driven by the will of Telix." Killing Ajax would be a terrible idea. It would probably escalate things and start a blood feud. The last thing she needed.


    "I''d hate to see what you qualify as a bad person, Relma," said Estela.


    They scaled ever higher, and the sound of fighting grew ever dimmer. Soon they seemed to walk faster as the remaining distance flew by. Before long, they were nearing the peak. The air became thinner and colder, but Relma hardly felt it.


    For she could see a swirling storm cloud above the mountain. All of them surrounded a single point. As she drew near, she saw what she had been looking for. "There it is."


    Lightning Trail was a chipped, somewhat twisted, and dull blade. It was hanging from the clouds a few feet above the peak. But that didn''t diminish it in the slightest.


    For Relma, at least. Those clouds had hung there for thousands of years. The sword kept them there.


    "... It''s somewhat uh..." began Ronald.


    "Less illustrious than you were expecting." guessed Relma.


    She should have been disappointed. But, then again, it wasn''t about the sword. It was about drawing it.


    "Well, what were you expecting?" laughed Estela. "Lightning Trail''s power came from the wielder. Well, that and the Heaven''s Eye."


    "You mean the gem in the pommel?" asked Relma. "Where is it?"


    "Gail took the gem out when he placed it in the sky," said Estela.


    "Why''d he do that?" asked Relma.


    "I imagine he thought putting an artifact of unlimited holy power for anyone to pry out was a bad idea," said Estela. "Don''t worry. The gem is down in Gel Carn, under the protection of the Steward.


    "If any of us draw the sword, you need only convince him to hand it over."


    "Well, that sounds much easier than I was expecting," said Relma.


    "Yes, right," said Estela. "Relma, I know the Steward has sworn to hand power over to Anoa the Bright''s heir as soon as they appear, but he isn''t going to do it."


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Relma.


    "Well, think about it. You and your family have ruled over a Kingdom in all but name for generations. Then some random farm boy showed up with a sword, demanding to be made the king. Would you hand it over?"


    "If I''d sworn to hand it over to the rightful heir, and he was one, of course," said Relma.


    "See, you answered that way because you don''t understand." Estela seemed very annoyed by her answer. "This isn''t an oath you made of your own will. It''s an oath your great, great, great grandfather made and forced you to make.


    "This boy is clearly the pupil of an irritating wizard who shows up and demands like he owns the place. And now that wizard is telling you to give up the country that you would have inherited.


    "Would you do it?"


    "...Well, I might be a little reluctant," said Relma, not really comprehending what she was getting at. "But Aren isn''t irritating."


    Estela put a hand over her eyes. "Hmm, well, I guess that''s a good thing. Since you''re clearly far too stupid to rule anything."


    "Hey!" said Relma.


    "We Vortegex''s became Kings of Escor by the old-fashioned way," said Estela as she climbed toward the sword. "We helped House De Chevlon crush House Gabriel. Then we killed those vampires and burned them all to a cinder."


    "Vampires?" asked Ronald.


    "Yes, well, we were loyal to House De Chevlon," said Estela as they neared the sword. "Then we discovered that House De Chevlon was secretly ruled by vampires. So they offered the head of our House a place among them.


    "Naturally, we''re loyal servants of Elranor. We staged a coup and obliterated as many vampires as we could.


    "Of course, it''s all nonsense. We made it up to justify our takeover later. That''s the problem with propaganda. You spend so much time telling lies that you forget the truth."


    And then Ergath emerged from the living stone. He was covered in wounds, and his sword was bloodied. He limped forward and fell to one knee, resting on his scimitar. "I don''t mean to interrupt, but Ajax has survived my trap and is coming up after us with all his wolves.


    "If you want to try your luck, now is the time."


    "Are you all right?" asked Relma.


    "I''ll need to heal myself a bit," said Ergath. "Your pursuer is quite formidable."


    "Right, I''ll just, um..." began Relma. She''d been hoping Ajax would be turned back by Ergath or at least delayed a bit longer.


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    But Estela first moved forward in long strides and gripped the blade with one hand. She pulled on it, but it remained stuck in place. Then, hauling on it further, she gritted her teeth and finally let go.


    "Damn it," she said. "Oh, to hell with it. Arengeth probably made it so the spell would only release for his chosen puppet. With Anoa X dead, nobody can pull it.


    "Ronald, want to give it a try?"


    "Me?" asked Ronald. "But I don''t want to be king."


    "Yeah, but you''ve been taught how to rule by your father," said Relma. "Maybe not wanting to be king is part of the requirements."


    Ronald nodded and moved forward. Then, taking hold of the sword, he pulled on it. The sword seemed to flash for a moment, the clouds shifting above a bit. Then they darkened again, and he let go.


    "Hurry up," said Ergath, whose wounds had lessened.


    "Right," said Relma.


    She approached the sword. This was what she had come here for. This moment. But what if she couldn''t draw it? No, she had to draw it, or she''d never prove herself. So she took hold of the blade and pulled for a moment.


    There was no response. It held tightly.


    She had to draw it. What would happen if she didn''t? She''d have to go back and admit Aunt Pan was right. Wait for her son or grandson to get all the glory and credit. While she was forgotten. She pulled again.


    The sword stayed where it was.


    And then she thought about the coming war. Was there any hope at all? She could see Aren and Aunt Pan defeated Telix, but Adrian too? It would be incredibly bloody. Images of black dragons soaring over halfling villages came to mind. She saw Ronald''s face, then acid hit it, and the skin melted. It left only bone that blackened and melted to nothingness.


    She couldn''t let that happen. She had to draw it!


    The sword budged. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    She opened her eyes and found herself standing in her old home. The fire was roaring. For a moment, she thought it was just a dream. Then she saw the light out the windows. Endless light. She turned around and saw Him.


    "...Elranor," said Relma.


    He had skin and hair as white as snow. His sword was inlaid with light instead of gold. His fair features were contemplative, and he was sitting in a chair. Not a throne, but one of simple wood, his hands clasped as he looked upon a chessboard. Relma was on the other side of it.


    "Hello, Relma," he said.


    "I um... well, I..." began Relma.


    "You are not supposed to be here," noted Elranor.


    "Well..." Relma looked downcast.


    "You are not meant to be the one to wield Lightning Trail," said Elranor. "The ideal time has not yet been realized. By disobeying Pandora, you have risked your entire bloodline for the sake of your desires."


    Relma felt like crying. She didn''t know what to say. "I..."


    "Fortunately, some of those desires are admirable," said Elranor. "Take the sword."


    Relma blinked. Wasn''t she just about to get scolded. "What?"


    "I may be a god, but I appreciate people with a drive of their own," said Elranor. "It isn''t fair to expect someone to devote their entire life to bearing a child. And you are of the right bloodline. So if you want to take Lightning Trail and try to prove yourself worthy of it, you may do so."


    "Okay, thank you," said Relma. She was, uh... glad this worked out. "But what about the plan?"


    Elranor smiled. "The best plan is one that can be changed. When you try to force people to be something they are not, it never ends well. And to be blunt, I see many possible futures. Of course, I could tell you to go back to Pandora with your head hung in shame. But that would cause more problems than it would solve."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "Well, you were reckless enough to embark on this venture at a whim," said Elranor. "If I crushed your spirit now, you might become the perfect mother. Or, more likely, you''d end up despising your children. Resenting that they had the destiny you wanted.


    "It has happened.


    "Also, your drawing Lightning Trail could lead to some serious short-term benefits. So go ahead. Have fun."


    Relma stepped back, and Lightning Trail came out of the clouds. There was a clap of thunder, and the clouds which had hung over the Black Mountain for ages dispersed. They flowed across the sky. Before Relma''s eyes, the twisted and bent sword changed shape.


    Where once it was a wreck of a weapon, now it was perfectly shaped. The blade reflected the sun''s light almost as brightly as it came down. The grip was perfect and made Relma feel like she could move mountains. The hilt and guard were elegant, made, and inlaid with silver. Or something like silver; it seemed brighter. And there was a place at the center to put a gem.


    "...You just drew Lightning Trail," said Ronald.


    "Wait, you actually are the Heir of Kings?" said Estela. "That''s impossible!"


    "I only found out about it-" began Relma.


    And then something hit her from behind. Relma was sent sprawling and landed on the ground. Looking up, she saw Ajax, poised to strike. His claws were out, and his eyes glinted with fury.


    "Let''s speed this up," said Ajax.


    Relma stood up and brandished her sword. She''d been running from him all this time. But she didn''t need to. Now she had Lightning Trail. Now she could-


    He was dodging all of her swings very easily, wasn''t he?


    And then he caught her by the wrist and brought around a fist to punch her in the stomach. The sword fell from her hand, and she keeled over.


    "Wow, it''s almost like I''m the unstoppable half-demon, and you started learning to use a sword two days ago," said Ajax. "Strange how that works out."


    Then he ducked as Estela swung at him from behind. He brought around his leg in a roundhouse kick, but Estela ducked back before stabbing at him. After that, they dueled back and forth, and Estela was doing better than Relma had.


    But not well enough. Ajax wasn''t even taking this seriously. And then he caught Estela by the throat and disarmed her. "Hmm, you''re good. Been a while since I had to exert myself like this. Here''s the thing, I just had a cave-in separate me from my sister and pack mates. So I''m taking it out on you.


    "Although, you''re not bad to look at." He brought up a hand as Ronald came at him and backhanded him. Ronald was sent falling back and hit the ground. He fell but quickly began to rise. "Tell you what, I''ll break the halfling."


    Ajax surged at Ronald. Relma turned to Ergath, who was sitting cross-legged and observing. "Ergath, a little help here?"


    "Oh, you expect me to help," said Ergath. "I thought we''d established by now that I''m a less than moral individual."


    "Could you please help?" asked Relma.


    "Well, I could," admitted Ergath. "But doing nothing will likely infuriate Arengeth more."


    "Ajax, Ergath was the one who set the wards!" said Estela.


    "...What?" said Ajax, looking up.


    "If any of your pack are dead, it''s because of him," said Estela.


    "And he was planning on eating us," said Relma.


    Ajax paused before grabbing Ronald and smashing him into the ground. Then he rose up and took a stance. "Clever girl."


    Then he surged toward Ergath, who stood in a flash and met him head-on. As the two slashed and tore at each other Relma made her way over to Ronald. He was bloodied on the forehead, and one of his arms was limp. "Ronald, are you all right?"


    "No. I hurt all over," said Ronald.


    "Can you move?" asked Relma.


    "My leg..." said Ronald. "When I try to move it, it hurts."


    Estela came up and offered Relma Lightning Trail. "Come on, Relma. Get Lightning Trail. I''ll take Ronald."


    She picked up Ronald, and the two of them moved as far away from the fighting as quickly as they could. But Relma''s midsection was hurting, and Ronald was still bleeding badly.


    "I... I can''t see..." said Ronald.


    "Put him down, Estela," said Relma. "He''ll die if we don''t treat him."


    "And if we don''t get out of here, we''ll all die," said Estela.


    "Please!" said Relma.


    Estela set Ronald down gently. She drew some bandages out of her pack and began to apply them. But it was a lost cause. It was too little, too late.


    Relma had to do something.


    And then something came to her. It came naturally as if she was learning to use a muscle she''d never known she had. First, she reached forward and touched Ronald on the brow. Then she channeled something, perhaps herself, into him.


    She could feel his pain dimming and his bones setting. He gasped as his flesh knitted. And then it was over. Suddenly Relma found herself becoming tired. Estela stared at her.


    "Relma, what did you do?" asked Estela.


    Relma would have loved to give her an answer. But right now, her eyes were dimming. "I... I uh... I don''t feel so well..."


    "Relma!" shouted Estela.


    Her voice seemed a long way off, though. Finally, Relma collapsed to the ground, and everything went dark.

 Chapter Seventeen: Reunited in Triumph

    Relma awoke and wished she hadn''t as the light entered her eyes.


    Her head felt like bells had been ringing inside it. Her tongue felt like lead. Her body ached all over. Little by little, she pulled herself up and found that the sky above was turning to twilight. There was a campfire where the last of the firewood was burning.


    Ronald was cooking stew on it, stirring a ladle in one of his pots. He looked up. "Relma, you''re awake. Thank Barden."


    "Unfortunately," said Relma with a wince. "What happened?"


    "You healed my wounds," said Ronald, bringing up a bandaged arm. "Well, some of them. All my bones are fine, but I''ve got a bunch of scratches."


    "What happened with Ajax and Ergath?" asked Relma.


    "I don''t know," admitted Ronald. "They slipped off a ravine, still fighting. They might still be fighting. Estela followed them to watch the fight.


    "What now? We have Lightning Trail."


    Relma looked down at the shining blade by her side. It lay there, naked, gleaming. It really was the most magnificent thing she''d ever seen. "Well, I guess we head back home. I''d love to see the look on Pandora''s face when she finds out that I''ve gotten Lightning Trail-"


    And then a white owl descended and took on the form of Aunt Pan. Her hair blew around her as she threw back her black cloak. Her eyes were alight with fire. "Relma Artorious!" "


    Relma smirked and raised Lightning Trail. "Aunt Pan. Look upon my achievements and despair."


    Aunt Pan froze in place, eyes wide. "I... you... you drew... why would..." She stalked forward and snatched the blade out of her hand. "You stupid girl! You run off into the middle of the wilderness, into enemy territory! You drag me away from the battle line! And now you, you derail centuries of work for pure spite!"


    "Mmmmhmmm," said Relma, smile widening.


    Just as planned.


    "Stop smiling! Do you have any idea what you''ve done?!" roared Pandora.


    "Screwed up your plans for me," said Relma. "And Elranor gave me permission to wield it, so there."


    Pandora shook visibly, clenching a fist. Then she breathed and looked to the lands below. "... We''ll discuss this later. We''re going back to the battle line at once. There is bound to be a war soon, and I have to be there. "Where is Estela? Or have you gotten her killed?"


    "She went to watch a battle between a giant and a werewolf-" began Ronald.


    And then Estela staggered out of the darkness, carrying Ajax over one shoulder. "Man wolf. And the giant won." She threw him down.


    "Ajax," said Ronald. "Why did you bring him back here?"


    "He was beaten into unconsciousness," said Estela. "Ergath limped off into the mountains after that. I think he was afraid I''d finish him off. Relma, can you heal him?"


    "Heal him?" asked Pandora. "Relma doesn''t possess..." She froze and looked at Relma. "So you did meet with Elranor. What is he thinking?


    "No matter. Ronald, do you have any rope left?"


    "Yes, actually," said Ronald. "I bought an extra set of it."


    "Good," said Pan. "Get it out. Telix''s favorite son will make an excellent hostage. Once we''ve gotten back to the village, we''ll discuss your adventure."


    "What about the girls Telix seized and made into his slaves?" asked Relma. "Do you think maybe we could get them returned?"


    "Possibly," said Pandora. "However, that would likely require an exchange. Our primary goal is to avert the war." She set her hands on Ajax and closed her eyes. The numerous wounds on him faded away, leaving only the bloodstains. "Now, help me tie him up."


    Pandora only tied his arms to his waist, and Relma thought it was meager. Pandora looked to Relma. "He was hit with several powerful spells. It took a great deal of work to fix. Do you know how this happened?"


    "We met an ogre sorcerer named Ergath," said Estela. "He helped us slip under your view and got us here."


    "You worked with an ogre?" asked Pandora.


    "Well, yes," said Relma. "He was actually very nice."


    "He planned to eat us, Relma," said Estela.


    "Yes, but he didn''t," said Relma, failing to see her problem. "Anyway, after Ajax attacked us, I convinced him to go after Ergath, and they fought. Then I healed Ronald and fell unconscious."


    "What were you thinking, Relma?" asked Pandora. "You are lucky this Ergath did not eat you alive?"


    "I don''t think luck had anything to do with it," said Estela. "She kept her cool and interested him on her own."


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    "And if she had run into one of the dumb ogres?" asked Pandora. "The ones that live to eat?"


    "Well, I guess I''d have to kill it," said Estela. "Anyway, I''m more worried about what we''ll do when we get to Gel Carn.


    "Relma will probably have to swear off any claim to the Kingdom."


    "She will do no such thing," said Pandora.


    Estela shrugged. "Then, I suppose she''ll have her throat cut in the night."


    "The Steward wouldn''t do something like-" began Relma. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Estela howled with laughter.


    "As if I would allow that," said Pandora.


    Estela stopped and gave her a look. A severe one. "Who died and made you King of Harlenor Reunited, Lady Pandora? Relma has no support. Only a bloodline that hasn''t been in power for over a thousand years. The three kingdoms aren''t going to unite just because you tell them to.


    "Hell, the Vortegex''s sure aren''t going to. No offense."


    "None was taken," nodded Relma. "I''d be pretty skeptical, too."


    "I never said she would be King," said Pandora, raising the sword. "I should put this back. But if I tried, Elranor would probably refuse it." She sighed. "We''ve still got to deal with Telix. We have a hostage.


    "Do you think we can get him it to make Telix go away?" asked Ronald.


    "That''ll never work," said Estela. "Ajax might be the favorite, but Telix has other children. He isn''t going to give up everything he''s won for one child."


    "Even so," said Pandora, "we''ll be able to get some concessions."


    "Sounds good to me," said Estela. "That''s how we Vortegex''s do things. Take a little at a time until your enemy has nothing, and it is too late to stop us."


    "The wolf demon is waking up," said Pandora.


    Ajax awoke. Instantly, he had thrown himself onto his feet and surged at Pandora with bared fangs. The rope broke around him, and his claws were bared. Even as he did, she raised a hand, and he collapsed to one knee.


    "What is..." he gasped.


    "Stay where you are, cur," said Pandora. "My will is upon you. It is within my power to end your life with a thought. Now stand and follow us."


    "What... get... get out of my... head..." hissed Ajax.


    "You will follow us," said Pandora. "And if you turn away, it will be the worst for you."


    Ajax turned and seemed to be striving against invisible chains. He snarled and growled like a cornered wolf ." Never..."


    Then he collapsed to the ground. Then, a moment later, he arose, his eyes empty and his posture strange and relaxed.


    Pandora breathed out. "He is strong-willed. Come Relma. We need not fear him escaping."


    "Was that necessary?" asked Ronald. "That was a good rope."


    "I had hoped it would hold him," admitted Pandora. "Demons vary in power a great deal. Even the ones who come from the same parents. This one is obviously a potent variety.


    "I''m sorry about the rope, Ronald. When we return, I''ll see if I can get you a replacement."


    "It held his sister," noted Estela.


    "No doubt, that is why Ajax is his favorite," noted Pandora. "Demons value power above all else. They have differing views on how to get it and what exactly power is. Now, we must stop fussing.


    "We must go now. Before Adrian Wrynncurth catches us here. He does not always keep his gaze this high, but he may have noticed the fighting."


    "Yes, Aunt Pan," said Relma.


    The journey back down the mountain was fast. Far too fast to be natural. The ground seemed to shift beneath them. It sped their progress as they went faster and faster down. It was a little disorienting, and Relma began feeling sick.


    Ajax walked behind them, eyes empty and hands by his side. As if he were an empty shell. "What is going on, Aunt Pan?" she asked.


    "I have friendships with the spirits of this mountain," said Pan. "I have asked them to speed up our progress. This is the kind of thing you will have to learn if you hope to use that sword."


    "I thought you didn''t want me using the sword," said Relma.


    "I don''t," said Pandora. "But Elranor has changed the plan as usual.


    "This happens every time. First, we have everything laid out. Then he pulls the rug out from under us, and Father and I have to spend the next two hundred years compensating for it."


    "Father always told my brother that no plan can survive its own first step," said Estela. "So, you always have to be ready to shift."


    "Your father understands much," said Pandora. "But the purpose of a plan is to achieve an objective. So, the first step is figuring out what you are trying to achieve.


    "In this case, we are trying to achieve Harlenor Reunited."


    "What was the original plan?" asked Relma.


    "Steward Benarus has no direct heirs," said Pandora. "And since he is sterile, he will not have any. The one who will succeed him is a niece he despises. I hope your son or daughter will be brought up within Gel Carn and adopted by him.


    "When they eventually ascended to become Steward, his true lineage would be revealed. This would leave them in possession of a kingdom."


    "Now hang on," said Estela, "Gel Carn is a vassal of Antion."


    "I am well aware," said Pandora. "That is why that son would quickly marry a Princess of Antion. This would ensure that King Andoa''s line controls their kingdom. It would also cement control over a full third of Harlenor."


    "And then things would crash and burn," said Estela.


    "What makes you so certain?" asked Relma.


    "Look, everyone touts the Harlenor Reunited ideology," said Estela. "But in the end, no one really believes in it. It''s just an ideology to justify wars. You might be able to hogtie Antion, but Haldren and Escor wouldn''t just join the fold."


    "On the contrary," said Pandora, "events are already in motion. In time, Haldren might have become a vassal of Antion. Had things gone perfectly, the only independent state would have been Escor.


    "I''m certain we could have negotiated an understanding with your descendants. One which benefited everyone involved."


    "How would swearing loyalty to someone who''s never even been to Escor help us?" asked Estela.


    "Well, if you joined Harlenor Reunited, you would be a recognized royal family. Under the reign of a High King, of course," said Pandora.


    "Which meant that if any of the Barons and Lords rebelled, you would have a massive amount of support to rely on.


    "I would have done this if you hadn''t run off at night and drawn Lightning Trail. What were you thinking, Relma?"


    "That I don''t want to fade out of history," said Relma. "I want to be someone great. I want to be remembered for all time."


    "Being a great player in history isn''t as great as you would think," said Pandora. "I''ve seen good men turned into monsters by the power they wield. I''ve seen other good men who weren''t corrupted break under the strain of reign.


    "I never wanted this for you, Relma. I never wanted this for anyone."


    "Maybe," said Relma. "But I do."


    Her decision was made. Now, she just had to follow through.

 Chapter Eighteen: A Life Cut Short

    They found Aren along the side of the road, blowing smoke rings. The old man was sitting on a rock, his staff at his feet. He glanced up as they approached and stood smiling, removing his pipe. "So you''re back with our errant cub, are we? And with some new company."


    "This is Ajax. The favored son of Telix," said Pandora. "I judged that he would be of more use to us alive."


    "A hostage then and-" Aren blinked. "Why is Relma holding Lightning Trail?"


    "I drew it," said Relma.


    "Right, well, you had best put that away," said Aren, taking out his pipe. "Actually, let me see it."


    "No way. It''s mine," said Relma.


    "My dear girl, there is a time and a place for everything. Unfortunately, it is neither for Lightning Trail," Aren exasperatedly said. "Let me disguise it, at least, so no one will know what it is."


    Relma hesitated for a moment. Then she gave it to Aren, who raised it. He probably did know best.


    "That''s all you have to say, Father?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "Pandora, if Relma drew the sword, it means Elranor has accepted her," said Aren. "I''ve spent my whole life serving Elranor, and mine has been much longer than yours. So, I have no intention of questioning him now just because his plan doesn''t fit my plan.


    "Besides, these things have a way of working themselves out." He closed his eyes. Before their eyes, the reflections on the sword became dull. The blade became scratched and beaten. The grip, guard, and pommel became simple and ordinary-looking. The blade was now wholly unremarkable.


    "There. That is a good deal less impressive," said Aren. "At the very least, no one will shout to high heavens that Lightning Trail has been found." He tossed the sword into the air, then caught it by the blade between gloved fingertips. Then, with a smile, he offered it to her. "Here you go, Relma. Keep your hands on that."


    Relma took it, and Aren walked past. "Now, what about the wolf demon?"


    "He will make an excellent hostage," said Pandora. "I believe I said that before."


    "Yes, yes," said Aren, "How did you capture him? How did all this happen?"


    "It is a long story," admitted Relma.


    "Well, you can tell it on the way," said Aren. "I''ve set up as many wards as possible on the border. But even Telix will have a hard time sending raids through.


    "At any rate, let''s get back to the village."


    The village was a welcome sight when they got to it. Pandora broke off with Ajax to speak with Lord Argath as they reached the gate. Aren led Relma and the others into the town, which was bustling with activity. There were many more soldiers here now.


    "Why is everyone here?" asked Relma.


    "This village has the best defenses of the lot," said Argath. "Pandora and I have established wards all along the forest except here. Telix can either attack here or try to break the wards. "That will take time. Time enough for us to get our troops there."


    "Arengeth," said a soldier, approaching, "what is happening? Why did the clouds over the black mountain disappear? And what were all those flashes?"


    "Nothing we need concern ourselves with now," said Aren. "Elranor makes things clear to all men when the time is right. Now-"


    "Lightning Trail!" cried a man, standing upon a wagon of firewood.


    "What?" said someone.


    All eyes turned to him. He was about forty and wore the robes of a monk. "Lightning Trail has been drawn! The Heir of Kings has returned!"


    "What is all this? What are you talking about?" asked a man.


    "A vision came to me from Elranor!" cried the monk. "Lightning Trail has been drawn, and the chosen one walks among us! So soon Harlenor Reunited shall come to pass, and Baltoth! The once Inexorable shall be slain forever!"


    A regular frenzy began to overtake the crowd. Finally, Arengeth started to walking toward the man, whose proclamations became ever more grandiose.


    Then Tanith stumbled out of the inn, bleary-eyed. There were shadows under her eyes, and she looked like she had been drinking. But she had a huge battle axe on her back and two swords at her sides.


    "Will someone shut that bloody idiot up?" she roared, hurling a knife. The blade caught the man by the hood and pinned him to the wall of a house. From there, he slipped off the cart and fell behind it with a cry of pain.


    Tanith stalked up to him and pulled the knife out. "No one cares about prophecies, you old fool."


    The villagers stepped away from Tanith. At that moment, Ronald moved forward. "I do."


    "No one whose opinion matters cares about prophecies." Tanith corrected herself.


    At that moment, the man rose up again. "Rejoice, brothers! For the time of Elranor''s triumph is at-"


    Tanith whirled around and struck him across the face. "Shut! Up! You''re screeching could wake the dead!"


    The villagers surged forward and then halted as Tanith''s blades came out. She was smiling now. It wasn''t like the smiles Relma had seen from her before, condescending or smug.


    There was a blood lust there. Tanith would genuinely enjoy cutting the villagers into ribbons. Still, the villagers were all trained in the militia. They were fighting men in their own right. They had probably seen battle recently, with the skirmishes.


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    So why was every single person in the town backing away from Tanith?


    They were afraid of her. Was Tanith really that dangerous? It made a certain amount of sense. Why else would Benarus and Lord Marn tolerate her? When everyone had passed, Tanith sheathed her swords in one smooth movement.


    "His voice was giving me a headache," she muttered. Before looking up to Aren. "Who the hell are you anyway?"


    "I believe we were introduced," said Aren.


    "Hmm, yes," said Tanith. "Let me rephrase that. Who are you really?"


    "I am just who I was introduced as, as are we all," said Aren.


    "Sure," scoffed Tanith. "So, I''m supposed to believe a human could live thousands of years."


    "All things are possible with the will of the gods," noted Aren.


    "Maybe so," said Tanith. "But I haven''t seen you killing any Calishans. Or using your supposed ultimate power to destroy any enemies.


    "I certainly don''t believe in destiny or anything which controls my fate."


    "Then what do you believe in?" asked Aren, walking forward.


    "Absolutely nothing unless I can see it bleed," admitted Tanith. "Metaphorically speaking, of course. And Elranor, obviously."


    "That is a sad way to live, Tanith," said Aren, taking a stick from the cart.


    Then he kneeled on the cobblestones and fitted the stick between the cobblestones. Tanith stepped back, raising an eyebrow. "Just what are you doing now?"


    "I''m going to restore your faith," said Aren.


    "I already believe in Elranor," said Tanith


    "Belief and faith are two very different things. As you will see. Do you see this stick? The wood is completely dead," said Aren. "No sorcerer can create life. Only use the life which is already there."


    "Yeah, I''ve met Rusara," said Tanith. "I know that much."


    "Then, in the name of Elranor, grow," said Aren.


    Nothing happened for a moment. Then suddenly, roots emerged from the stick, digging into the ground as it grew upwards. Tanith staggered backward as it grew higher and higher. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Tanith looked genuinely shocked for the first time since Relma had met her. An array of emotions went across her face as what had once been a stick became a healthy sapling. Pink petals now grew from its branches that stretched outwards. Then it slowed.


    It was young. But it seemed to emanate life itself. Just looking at it made Relma feel like she could run two hundred miles. People clustered around it, awed by its very presence.


    "...That''s impossible!" said Tanith. "No sorcerer could create a life that quickly. Trees take decades to grow. Even the most powerful druids can only manage lesser creations.


    "That''s something that can only be done by... a god."


    "Oh," She paused. "So you are who you say you are. I think this is the part where I ask forgiveness." She looked away.


    "You are forgiven," said Aren. "But if you truly mean what you say, you should show gratitude to this tree, for it has restored your faith. Therefore, I ask that you tend to it and give freely of any of the fruits which fall from it."


    "I''m a mercenary. I can''t just drop everything to look after some tree," said Tanith.


    "There will be a great long-term employment opportunity in this place," said Aren. "And I will see that you have the means to care for it.


    "You may, of course, leave if you wish. I will not stop you. But you should consider my request. "For you and the tree are one. Every day that your spirit grows, so will it."


    "Wait, so if it dies, I will?" asked Tanith, eyes narrowing.


    Aren halted and looked at her uneasily. "I was not speaking literally. Not entirely. Instead, it has been intimately connected to your spirit. So long as it lives, you will have it as a companion in all your lives-"


    Tanith unslung her battle axe and brought it around to strike the tree bark. There was a scream. Not verbal, but spiritual. It went through Relma''s heart, and she felt like she had been stabbed.


    "Wait!" cried Aren. "Stop!"


    But Tanith had already brought her axe down again. She had a mad smile on her face as she cleaved through the bark halfway. Aren raised a hand, and the axe flew from her hand. But the blade had cut too deeply.


    The tree fell, broken to the ground. As quickly as it had been born, it had been killed. And Relma realized the tree was unlike any other she had seen in Gel Carn. Something told her it was unlike anything seen in the world.


    And now it was dead.


    Aren looked terribly old. "...Don''t do that," he gasped. "What have you done?"


    "I''m a mercenary," snarled Tanith, crushing a branch underfoot. "Don''t ask me to take care of something unless you want its limbs broken and its kneecaps shattered."


    "You foolish girl!" cried Aren, a sob almost in his voice. "Do you realize what you have done?"


    "Screwed up your little morality play is my guess," snapped Tanith. "I''m a killer, not a gardener."


    "Your fate was bound to that tree!" said Aren, anger entering that voice. "You have now killed it in the flower of youth! Had you... had you stayed your hand, you could... you could have lived to be a hundred. In time, your labors could have brought you peace unknown to mortals.


    "You''ve doomed yourself in your lives henceforth. And worse still, the fruits of that tree would have been able to heal wounds! It could have saved innumerable lives! How many people will now die for the sake of your wrath?"


    "I don''t want to live to be a hundred, you insufferable old fool," said Tanith. "I want to die surrounded by the corpses of my enemies, their blood coating my flesh. Who wants to get old?


    "Who wants to be like you?"


    "And what of your other lives, girl?" asked Aren. "Do you realize that this tree was meant to last across lifetimes? Your future will now reflect what you have done this day.


    "You have brought a curse on yourself that will go far beyond this life."


    "If any of my future lives aren''t like me, then I''d much rather they die young so I can return to being me," said Tanith. "As for the fruits, I''d hate to unemploy all the village healers. But you realize that demand can only keep up if supply goes great, right?


    "Someone needs to read up on economic principles.


    "Anyway, I''m going to get a wood axe. Time to make some firewood. Waste of a good battle axe." And she stalked off. The violation was with Relma. It wasn''t just the tree. She felt as if some horrific spiritual wrong had just been done. Like someone had dug up a grave. Or killed a baby.


    "...There goes a young woman who will come to many tragic ends," said Aren.


    "She deserves them," said Relma.


    "That girl is possessed by the sin of wrath more than anyone I''ve ever seen," said Aren. "She certainly deserves what she brought on herself in this life. I don''t intend to speak for all the rest."


    "Aren, why did you do that?" asked Ronald.


    "The girl is possessed with deep unbalances of the spirit," said Aren, walking away. "If she had only listened to me, this tree could have saved her. Unfortunately, I''ve seen it happen.


    "Sometimes, when I charge someone with the task, they listen and are saved. Other times, they ignore me initially and come back. Others refuse the task entirely and leave the tree to its own devices.


    "I''ve never seen someone foolish enough to destroy the tree out of spite."


    "But why, Tanith?" asked Relma. "She''s a monster. She''d never even consider it."


    "She did consider it," said Aren. "If she had left it, her future lives would have been drawn here. Some would have taken joy from it. Instead, I saw the strands of fate stretching before me. So much evil could have been averted if she''d only left it be.


    "Now it''s all in ruins. What could have been averted will be much worse? Unless something is done to stop it."


    "What can we do?" asked Relma.


    Aren looked down. "We can all try being good people. A small act of kindness can avert the end of civilizations if properly placed. Often it can balance the books of fate."


    "Hey, are you all right?" came Estela''s voice.


    Relma looked up to see Estela helping up the priest. He was severely bruised on the face, and his neck was cut.


    "Yes, I am, child." said the priest. "Thank you."


    Relma ran to him. "Let me help you."


    She set a hand to him and channeled the power she had felt before. It surged into him. The wound knit itself, and the bruise disappeared. And then Relma fell back, lightheaded. Catching herself in a kneel, she looked up. Her entire body ached with the pain of healing.


    She looked at the tree. There was no healing that.


    "...I know you, the chosen one of Elranor," said the priest.


    Relma stood up quickly. "Sorry, you''ve mistaken me for someone else."


    "Perhaps," said the priest. "Perhaps not."


    At that moment, Davian appeared and approached Aren. Aren looked at him. "Yes?"


    "Lord Arengeth," said Davian, "Steward Benarus requests your presence in the manor. He wishes to discuss the coming battle."


    "Right," said Aren, before looking to the people, "if that Tanith girl actually does try to hack up this tree, don''t let her. It may have some use beyond mere firewood. You never know about these things.


    "Estela, Relma, Ronald, come with me. I want you with me."


    Relma and Estela made their way from that place with Aren. And as they did, Relma felt like she had healed a small part of a larger wound. Yet, there was a sense of being watched as well.


    Something had looked down on Tanith''s actions and wept.


    And something else had smiled.

 Chapter Nineteen: Battle Plans

    They found Steward Benarus in a long room in the manor. It had violet drapes and many officers around him. Marn, Aunt Pan, and Tanith were all sitting at a long, rectangular table. The windows were clear and more extensive than was defensible. Apparently, she had been joking about the firewood, at least. But she looked pleased with herself nonetheless. Sir Frederick was on the other side of the table, hands clasped together, looking grim.


    Relma had heard this place had once been a dining hall where Benarus and his brother, Cervan, had grown up and eaten. But those days passed, and Cervan had a bitter enmity with Benarus before his death.


    Benarus stood up and welcomed them, raising arms to either side. "Aren, Pandora, thank Elranor, you''ve returned. Telix''s forces are about to force the issue. Our sorcerers report that the trees are gathering their power."


    "The trees?" asked Aren.


    "Yes," said Benarus. "They must have subverted the spirits of the land."


    "This is worse than I thought," said Aren. "If Wrynncurth were planning to launch an attack, these are the signs."


    "We can still negotiate. We have our prisoner," said Aunt Pan.


    "We can," said Aren. "The real question, though, is what terms we''ll want."


    "The terms are only too clear," said Argath. "Telix is to depart these lands, never to return. Those he has corrupted will be released and returned to us where we may heal them."


    "Argath, I understand your fervor," said Pan. "But I can''t ask that. Telix will never sacrifice everything he''s gained simply to spare his son. And Wrynncurth won''t cooperate with those terms.


    "Much as it leaves a foul taste in our mouths, we must compromise."


    "And what of the girls he has corrupted?" asked Frederick. "Twisted into mockeries of their former selves? One of us within this room escaped that fate?" He looked to Relma. "I am glad you survived, milady."


    "So am I," said Relma with a sigh. It hadn''t exactly been easy.


    "They''re only commoners, Frederick," said Benarus. Why was he so quick to dismiss them? Surely, Benarus'' feud with Cervan had been about commoners as well. Then again, it had been much more than that. Cervan had many of his minions driven out by Telix, and they had been far worse.


    "They are people," said Frederick, shaking his head. "Their souls formed from the same source and will be bound to the same fate as their master, should he corrupt them."


    "Surely Lord Elranor will understand if it was unwilling," said an officer.


    "Um, it isn''t unwilling," said Relma.


    "What?" said Benarus.


    "Telix uses magic to lull people into a daze," said Relma, remembering his spellwork. "Then he gives them a choice whether to leave or become part of his pack. A lot of them accept. The others, he lets go."


    There were murmurs of horror among the officers. Benarus raised a hand for silence, and it was obeyed. "I don''t like it any more than you do. However, the truth is that my nobles don''t care much if a few village girls disappear. Not enough to risk an all-out war with dragons."


    "It doesn''t matter," said Tanith, leaning back in her chair.


    "What doesn''t matter?" asked Benarus.


    "It doesn''t matter what kind of deal we reach with Telix," said Tanith, spinning a knife into the air and catching it. "He''s a son of Baltoth. His word is worthless. He''ll turn on us the moment we give Ajax back. So we should hack his head off and put it on a pike.


    "Send a message like we did with the Calishans."


    She didn''t believe that, did she? She wanted to start a war. Death was all she cared about. If this did get bloody, it would be a dream come true for her.


    "Wrynncurth''s word isn''t worthless," said Relma, feeling offended and remembering their last meeting. "And Telix doesn''t want to lose him as an ally." Then she paused as she realized everyone''s gaze was on her. Why were they listening to her? She was just some nobody. "Why do we have to make demands?"


    "What?" said Tanith.


    "Why do we have to make demands?" repeated Relma. It seemed a worthwhile question.


    "You are suggesting we let Telix get away with this?" asked Argath.


    "Why not? We started it when we let someone rob a black dragon''s hoard," said Relma. "Telix responded in kind. He didn''t even kill anyone. He ate some livestock and kidnapped some girls, at least until the skirmishes.


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    "And we don''t know their souls will be damned, do we? So Elranor is pretty lenient."


    "Are you suggesting Telix''s cause is just?" asked Argath. There was an edge in his tone.


    "Lord Benarus, if someone robbed one of your nobles, wouldn''t they want their property back. What if someone murdered him in cold blood? You''d want revenge. Right?" asked Relma.


    "We''d be obligated to seek it," admitted Benarus.


    "So let''s just ask Telix to release his control over the girls he turned," said Relma.


    "...We could keep Ajax as a permanent hostage," said Benarus. "In return, we agree to compensate Adrian Wrynncurth for the lost gold. I don''t like making peace with a son of Baltoth, but I don''t like the idea of fighting Wrynncurth."


    There were murmurs of agreement among the men. No one seemed particularly keen except Tanith. Her hands were clenched as she sheathed her blade. She didn''t just look disappointed. She looked angry. Like this was personal. But why would it be personal? sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Tanith stood up and threw aside her cloak. "Have you people lost your minds?! You want to parley with the ultimate enemy of Elranor?! The stalwart warriors preparing for war in Artarq must weep. To know the servants of Baltoth are tolerated in the heart of Harlenor!


    "This is Gel Carn! Anoa himself cleansed this land of all the wicked races! This is the resting place of Lightning Trail! Here is where the Heaven''s Eye was placed for safekeeping!


    "And you want to let Baltoth keep an army within a day''s travel!"


    The men looked at her, and several spoke in agreement. And Tanith smiled. Then she breathed out in relief. As if she''d had a close call.


    Tanith had been there, hadn''t she, when the dragon attacked this place? That had been right after the dragon''s hoard was robbed. The person who stole it had yet to take the money. Instead, they''d thrown it among the fields.


    An act of foolish generosity? Maybe.


    Or it could be by design. They didn''t want to be caught with the gold on them. But if they hadn''t robbed the hoard for money, why? To get a reaction. To provoke a war.


    "What she says is true," said Frederick finally. It is better to have a battle now rather than later.


    Relma could easily see Tanith doing that. And everyone who knew her could say the same. But Relma didn''t actually have any proof. So, this was just a theory.


    "Will having a battle now increase our chances?" asked Benarus. "No. It will not. If Telix attempts the Heaven''s Eye later, we will have ample reason to move against him.


    "Wrynncurth is reasonable.


    "And anyway, the Heaven''s Eye provides its own security. No demon is capable of touching it without being destroyed. Even mortals are hurt by holding it. And in any case, Anoa the Bright lived long ago. Times change. We must change too."


    "Well spoken for a man who has never taken the field of battle himself," scoffed Tanith.


    "Tanith, now isn''t the time," said Argath firmly. "Sit down."


    "No, now really is the time. Do you think traveling from Estal to Gel Carn is cheap? I spent money to get here expecting to be well paid." said Tanith. "And I speak for every other mercenary in this room.


    "So, Benarus, are we still being paid?"


    Around half the men spoke their agreement. Relma had to admit, Tanith had a point here. If she had been waiting a month, expecting battle and plunder, Relma would have been annoyed, too. Not that it justifies her actions.


    Argath paused. "The girl is right. No one will mind if they don''t have to fight a dangerous battle, but they will mind if they aren''t paid for coming down here." He looked to Benarus.


    "You and the others will be given an appropriate sum," said Benarus.


    What if Relma told Benarus her suspicions? How would he react?


    Tanith looked at him with narrowed eyes. "I don''t like the sounds of that. What would you consider appropriate?"


    "You are being paid for a battle you never fought," said Benarus. "It is only fair that the lack of risk is considered. You will receive half the agreed-upon payment."


    "To hell with that, I want double," said Tanith.


    Benarus would do something about it. He disliked Tanith as much as Relma did. No one would care if Tanith ended up in a dungeon. Even if it wasn''t true, people might jump at the chance to get rid of her.


    Dead silence. Tanith really did have a lot of nerve, didn''t she? Benarus narrowed his eyes. "...I am in no mood for jests."


    Relma opened her mouth.


    "Well, I''m not jesting," said Tanith. "You''ve wasted my time bringing me here. Do you know how many Calishan villages the mercenaries here could have burned in this time?"


    "You will take what I offer or nothing at all," said Benarus.


    There were murmurs of anger from the men in the room. Tanith''s hand went to her sword. Frederick responded in kind, as did Argath. So the mercenaries and the knights of Benarus stood with hands on their blades.


    If Relma said something now, there would be a bloodletting. Tanith would fight back, and the mercenaries would do the same. Tanith was a horrible person, but Sir Edward De Cathe wasn''t. He and the others just wanted to get paid and move on.


    "Tanith," said Argath, "I think you should take your payment and leave."


    Tanith met his gaze. Then she let go of her sword. "...To hell with this. I''m going back to work with House Gabriel. At least they have spines.


    "Anyone else, I suggest you leave this cheat to the tender mercies of the wolves he loves so much more than his people. I shouldn''t worry about receiving payment.


    "Benarus seems very quick to overlook his bargains."


    Then she stalked toward the door. For a moment, she halted by Benarus and spat at his feet. Then she left. Several mercenaries walked out with her, looking disgusted.


    Relma could reveal her suspicions now, but there was no point. If she did, Tanith would end up dead or clapped in irons. But Relma wouldn''t reveal what she suspected because she knew it to be true. Instead, she would be doing it because she didn''t like Tanith. That wouldn''t be right.


    "Send a patrol after her," said Benarus to a guard. "Make sure she does no one any harm as she leaves." The guards followed. Benarus sat down and breathed out. "Argath, when you begged my leave to go to war, I never expected you to return with a snake like that."


    "She wasn''t like that at first," said Argath. "I remember when she first came into my service on a recommendation from Raynald De Chevlon. Cheerful. Fresh-faced. Enthusiastic. She helped keep the men motivated.


    "I taught her everything I knew. I twisted her into a monster."


    "Argath, even if you set her on the path she walks, it was her choice to walk it," said Aren, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Just as it is her choice whether she will turn aside. All you can do is try to make amends and not repeat the mistakes of the past."


    "Benarus, I will arrange a meeting with Telix. There, we will offer him these-"


    A door was flung open, and a scout rushed in. "Lord Benarus! Telix has come! His armies are coming out of the forest."


    Benarus stood. "Damn. Ready the men for battle and rally the militia! We must not be taken off-guard. We''ll continue this discussion on the walls."

 Chapter Twenty: The Reveal

    The village walls were manned with soldiers clad in leather with spears and even swords. Militiamen and mercenaries alike were armored and ready for battle. Men with bows and arrows were standing by in good discipline. Some among them were from Benarus'' personal forces. They were clad in chainmail or even plate and wielding swords. A few militias even wielded axes and no shield, but this was not a popular choice. Only a fool would throw away shield protection for more hitting power.


    And Tanith had done just that.


    Lord Benarus wore a beautiful suit of armor inlaid with silver. One that could have looked more practical without. At his side was a fancy sword that Relma doubted would be much good in a real fight. Well, it might, but it would be chipped and ruined at the end of it.


    They made their way through the village, watching as crowds of people fled into their homes. Others left to join the soldiers already assembled. Carts filled with arrows were hauled by oxen near the walls. Relma saw several ballistae being erected behind the walls. Only they were pointing upwards.


    They were meant to kill dragons.


    "Do you think we''ll be able to stop them?" asked Ronald.


    "Possibly," said Pan. "Our best hope is using a hostage. But if it comes to a full-on war, Father and I should be able to even the odds."


    "Benarus, the wolves, will be yours to deal with," said Aren. "Pandora and I will contend Telix. And Wrynncurth if he takes the field."


    "Can you defeat him?" asked Relma.


    Aren remained silent. "I don''t know. If it were Telix, I think so. We''ve had one or two run-ins in the past. But Wrynncurth is another matter. If he actually starts making full use of his magic, I''ll be hard-pressed to hold him at bay."


    "So we are facing the black dragons alone," said Frederick. "No matter, the valor and courage of the men of Harlenor are greater than any shield."


    "I hope so," muttered Ronald. "Wrynncurth can melt shields."


    "It may not come to that," said Aren. "Wrynncurth wouldn''t have returned Relma if he were interested in a full-scale war. But Telix may do something reckless. That is my concern."


    They reached the walls. As they did, Argath looked around. "Where the devil is Tanith? She only just walked out? She couldn''t have gotten far before the warning bell sounded."


    "She left in a fury with all her men." said a soldier. "She told them that Benarus had refused to pay them. Do you think they''ll come back when they see the fighting?"


    "No," said Argath. "Tanith may love war, but she never forgives an insult. That''s how we got here."


    "Permission to join the defense," said Estela.


    Argath looked up and nodded to her. "Granted. We''ll need all the help we can get. But, Ronald, you don''t have to stay if you don''t want to?"


    Ronald shifted nervously, and Relma saw his hands shaking. "Well, I would. But if the wolves get over the wall, it''ll be the end for all of us anyway. And I''ve been a part of all this. So I''d rather not drop out of the story until the end if it''s all the same to you."


    "Fair enough," said Argath before looking to Frederick. "Frederick, would you see that these two are armed for war. I don''t want them coming into an early grave."


    And Relma was forgotten. No one looked at her. Putting her hand to Lightning Trail, she felt a heat within it. Some spell was over her, making her fall from people''s memories. Was Elranor making her unnoticed so she wouldn''t be killed? Or was it for something else?


    Was she meant to do something? Or was Elranor giving her a chance to do something? Relma thought about this as Aren and Aunt Pan moved to other places on the wall. Eventually, Ronald and Estela returned, dressed in chainmail and with new weapons. They held spears and shields. Relma opened her mouth to speak.


    And then she felt fear. The same fear she had felt before. Looking up, she saw Telix. He was only a shadow at first. But then he emerged into the daylight, and moans of despair came from the men. Argath and Frederick stood their ground, but Relma could sense that even they were afraid.


    The wolf demon loomed higher than the walls, and his eyes were flaming red. His white fur stood on end. He looked skyward and howled. It was a noise like death and screams from all over the village. The fear, a dull sensation, came to Relma.


    She wanted to run away. She had to run away. Her instincts were telling her to flee to get out of her. To hide in some out-of-the-way place and let other people handle things. She had to get away!


    Then she saw Argath and Frederick. They were terrified. And they weren''t detached from their fear like Relma was. Relma had no business pretending to be a hero if she broke and ran the minute things got rough. So she held her ground.


    Out of the woods came his broods. Wolves and werewolves were bounding out to stand in great ranks, just out of arrow range. The sound only intensified Telix''s spell. Men and women were throwing themselves to the ground, weeping and screaming. A panic, little by little, began to set in. Sweat dripped from Ronald''s face as they heard it.


    Was Telix''s plan to drive the army into a route without even fighting?


    "Stand tall, men of Harlenor!" cried Frederick. "Stand up and show no fear!"


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    Other officers joined Frederick as the howling continued. Little by little, the men were brought back into order. Relma looked at Estela and Ronald and realized that they had fallen to their knees.


    She didn''t feel the same thing they did? That was odd. Her response to all this was muted. Why? Why did it seem like she saw life through a lens of clarity?


    "The black dragons!" cried someone. "The black dragons have come!"


    Out of the distance swooped the dragons. They circled above, roaring as well. The beat of their wings together sent gusts flowing across the walls. And they roared. The sound was like an avalanche as it mixed with the howls of the wolves.


    It was too much now. Men dropped their weapons and outright fled for the stairs. Argath and Frederick shouted at them, but they were panicking now.


    Then Estela stepped in front of them. Her sword lashed out, and she struck one of the men across the helmet. He fell back, lying senseless. Another tried to slip by, but Ronald knocked his legs out from under him. The stampede stopped.


    "Get back to your posts!" cried Estela. "Before I carve every one of you into food for the wolves!" Argath came forward with several other men.


    "Stand where you are!" said Argath. "Return to your post or lose your heads!"


    Order was restored again. Steward Benarus and Aren returned alongside Aunt Pan. The howls continued, but no one else tried to run. The men had faced their fear, and though they still felt it, it passed through them.


    "...There are many of them, aren''t there?" said Aren.


    Then Aren raised a hand and Pandora with him. There seemed a silent battle then, a contest of wills. The fear that was seeping into everything was driven away. Those who had been overcome stood and resumed their posts.


    "Why didn''t you do that before?" asked Estela.


    "I have been doing it," said Aren. "I''ve been going all over the walls beating back Telix''s fear. Unfortunately, this is merely the last place that needed it.


    "I hate magic."


    The endless howls and roars finally stopped. At last, the dragons landed. Wrynncurth touched down Telix. The two were speaking with one another. Then Anya came forward bearing the white flag of parley. Relma felt a sense of relief that she was still alive.


    "Lord Telix demands the return of his son and the surrender of the border towns!" called Anya. "You will also compensate for the flames started within his forest!"


    "If Telix wishes to make demands, he may do so himself," said Benarus. "And I wish to make a few of my own."


    "Then make them old fool!" came Telix''s roar.


    In an instant, Telix bound across the fields. Before anyone could even launch a shaft, the demon was among them. He loomed over Benarus, and the men recoiled. With a swing of one claw, he could have killed Benarus. And probably a great many other people. Just how fast was he? "And let me spill your blood across the fields of this land!"


    Wrynncurth flew leisurely up to the wall and landed on a battlement. "Calm down, old boy," he said, taking a draft from his pipe. "This sort of unpleasantness is best resolved in parley. I''d rather not wait another sixty years to meet with some human friends. Reigniting friendships after people have been reincarnated is troublesome.


    "What say we establish a meeting and talk this business out?" Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Where is my son?!" snarled Telix.


    "He is alive," said Benarus, keeping his voice calm. The men around him were trembling. "However, I swear that if you attack any of my subjects, his throat will be cut. Now calm yourself, demon.


    "Will you negotiate? Or will you not?"


    Relma knew this to be a lie. Telix stood a decent chance of killing everyone here and finding his son. He could do so before any orders like that could be carried out. Aunt Pan and Arengeth might defeat him, but they might not.


    It was a bluff, plain and simple.


    Telix looked at her. He was the first person to notice her presence. And Relma could see the thoughts turning in his head. Ajax had been pursuing Relma when he was captured. Relma could not have gotten far with a prisoner like Ajax, so she must have taken him to the nearest location. That location was here. Since Benarus had already mustered his troops, Ajax had yet to be moved. So he was here in this village.


    Telix laughed and grabbed Benarus by the throat, lifting him into the air. The men fell back as Aren raised his staff. "I will not!" he cried. "I will tear this fortress down! All who stand within it will die! And if my son is harmed, you shall rue the day forever! Your fields will be soaked in the blood of your people! All who threaten my family shall lament the loss of all they hold dear!"


    This could have been better. Relma had to do something, or there would be a war. And they would lose. The men were terrified of Telix, and with Wrynncurth, they didn''t have a chance. They couldn''t even bluff their way to victory.


    But Relma had thoughts that couldn''t be read. Her hand fell to Lightning Trail, and she felt less like a person and more like the instrument of a higher power. But it was still her choice. She could act.


    Or she could not.


    "The cities and towns of this kingdom shall burn! Not one shall be spared! Nothing shall be left alive! From the greatest lord to the most insignificant, livestock shall be left alive!


    "We will feast on the flesh of your children''s, children''s children, and you-"


    She acted. Lightning Trail was drawn from her sheath almost of its own accord. The illusion was burned away, and the sword was revealed. But it did not merely reflect the light. Now it sent it flowing out from it so that everyone around her covered their eyes.


    Telix fell backward. Lightning shattered the sky as Relma leaped to the top of a crenelation. She raised the sword that shone ever brighter.


    "What the..." gasped Telix.


    "Behold Lightning Trail!" cried Relma. "Behold the Blade of the Skies! The sword of Elranor is drawn once more, and destiny is set in motion!" The words didn''t seem her own.


    Telix regained his composure. "So the Heir has come forth, has she? Do you really think to oppose me?"


    "I do!" said Relma, her voice taking on a different tone. "I am the Heir of Kings! The blood of Anoa runs through my veins! The blood destined to end Baltoth himself!


    "But it is not by my hand that you shall fall! For the blades'' light musters the courage of all men! To do battle here will be the death of you!


    "For destiny weaves a thread, and my bloodline shall bring about the end of Baltoth! I am the last of that blood!


    "Dare you to oppose fate itself?! Or will you negotiate and keep that which you have already won?!"


    Telix looked around with narrowed eyes. He apparently could have been more impressed with Relma. But it wasn''t he who she was trying to impress. The men were ready to fight. Their hands were no longer shaking. Now Telix realized he would not be facing a terrified mob. Instead, he met a disciplined and highly motivated army. And among the wolves, there was a strange series of doubtful murmurs. The spell over them was fading.


    He could kill Relma with a flick of his wrist. But that wouldn''t win him the battle. Telix looked up to Wrynncurth, who was perched on the battlement. He looked a little concerned. Something passed between them.


    Telix looked back. "...I will negotiate. Set up a pavilion before the gates. We will speak there." He set down Benarus. Then, he leaped from the wall to walk away. Wrynncurth took to flight and flew after him. Relma breathed a sigh of relief and leaned on the sword. Then she looked up. The soldiers of Harlenor were bowing before her. Kneeling as if she were their King by right of conquest. Even Ronald. Aunt Pan had her face in her hands. Estela had her hand on her sword and was not kneeling. Her face was cold.


    "Well, Relma, you certainly know something of double-edged blades," said Aren. Relma jumped at his voice. "We should have no trouble negotiating now. But, unfortunately, we''ll be negotiating with everyone in Harlenor. That will be for the next six months."


    "...Yes. I completely agree," said Aunt Pan.


    This was going to be a long day.

 Epilogue:

    Some days later, Benarus was less than pleased in a meeting room. Relma didn''t blame him. Wherever they went, rumors went out that the Heir of Kings had returned. What had been little more than a morale-boosting bluff was soon expanded. Now, people were speaking as though she had routed an entire army. Now, people were talking about the second coming of the Kings of Old.


    The only consolation was that very few people actually connected it to Relma. The light had obscured her from view to a large extent. It was difficult to reconcile the warrior of legend with a fourteen-year-old child.


    So here they were in absolute silence. The steward remained silent as Aren and Aunt Pan sat across from him. His face was stony as he drummed his fingers against the long wood table. His gaze was not on any of them but on a banner with his house''s emblem. Relma wondered what he was thinking.


    Finally, he looked at Aren with a weary look and let out a long sigh. "We have a problem."


    "I am well aware of the fact, Benarus," said Aren sadly.


    "You assured me that the Heir of Kings would not be unveiled for another generation," said Benarus. He looked bitter. "I never questioned the matter since I have no sons or daughters. I had expected Hadleim to claim his lineage at one point, but nothing came of that.


    "So what exactly is going on here?"


    Benarus had departed the village almost immediately after negotiations concluded. Aren had been more than a little concerned about that and had followed after him as a bird. There had been all kinds of discussions and negotiations among the nobility. Their response to the Heir of King''s return was lukewarm and an understatement.


    "Relma acted on her own," said Pan. "She is a fool but did not mean any harm. And Hadleim''s example should help to pave the way. It has given her credibility."


    "In the girl''s defense, she wanted to avoid bloodshed," said Aren. "And she did just that. We''d have had a battle if she hadn''t unveiled the sword. A great many good men would be dead.


    "And truth be told, I''m not sure we''d have won. It would have been a near thing. And the winner would have been left a shadow of-"


    "I know," said Benarus, raising a hand. "Understand, Arengeth, I can''t yield control to her, not like this.


    "I mean... the finding of Lightning Trail may make for an excellent story. Certainly, no one is more pleased at avoiding bloodletting than myself. But she''s only learning to read. So you can''t expect me to put Gel Carn in her control?"


    "I expect no such thing," said Aren, leaning back in his seat. "I''m afraid that this was never part of the plan." He clasped his hands together and lit a pipe. "Still, it may work to our advantage."


    Benarus hesitated. "What do you mean?"


    "Relma''s father was a hero of the Satyr Wars," said Aren. "He was well known during the wars. And now Relma has found Lightning Trail, stopped a war, and intimidated Telix."


    "I don''t think I intimidated-"began Relma.


    "Yes, of course, you didn''t," said Aren, nodding. "If things had come to blows, he''d have eaten you alive. Telix is a direct descendant of the Wolf Spirit Yamas, one of the devourers of the Alpha. But the stories men are telling are that you did intimidate him." What was the Alpha? Hadn''t that been the legendary god of werewolves that fed itself to five wolves over many lives?


    "How does that help matters?" asked Benarus. "Now, people will be clamoring for her to take the throne."


    "I think you overestimate the power of prophecy, Benarus," said Pan. "Prophecies are fulfilled in their own time and way. And they rarely happen because someone was trying to fulfill it. With a great many setbacks and detours anyway. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No, Relma will almost certainly never take the throne of Harlenor Reunited. But she may be able to clear the way."


    "What do you mean?" asked Benarus.


    "Well, Kings don''t take kindly to people joining their company as equals," said Aren. "When a new king comes to power, it takes a few generations before they are accepted.


    "She''s right. If some random farmboy were to become King of Harlenor Reunited, the nobility wouldn''t like it. And he might well resent the nobility. In my experience, the best leadership change is one where things change slowly."


    "Father, get to the point," said Aunt Pan.


    "Benarus, you have had no more children since your son, Aiden, died in the satyr wars," said Aren. "You have refused to remarry. Therefore, you will need an heir."


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    "And I have one," said Benarus, though he sounded reluctant to admit it. "My niece, Fayn. I''ve been pressured to adopt her for some time now."


    "Yes, but you haven''t made anything official yet," said Aren. "So this is what I suggest. Relma will continue her education in Gel Carn, Pandora, keeping a close eye on her. She''ll be trained in everything she would need to know to fill the role she hopes to fill.


    "When we are satisfied with her abilities, we will give her some kind of position of authority. A minor land to look after. Something that will be to her credit if she does well but will be a manageable loss if she fails. If she impresses you, consider ensuring that the succession passes to her.


    "If she works hard and proves herself, Gel Carn might have a Queen. From there, future generations might work to create Harlenor Reunited."


    "What if I am unsatisfied with her performance?" asked Benarus. "It is all very well for commoners to talk about the return of the golden age. But when a King, or a Steward, makes a rash decision, thousands can suffer for it."


    "Then you are under no obligation to do anything you don''t want to," said Aren. And then he smiled. "In fact, why don''t we give Fayn the same deal. One tends to work harder when you have a rival."


    Benarus clasped his hands together. "...And I''ll keep my power no matter what happens."


    "If we must be blunt, yes," said Aren.


    "Good. I have no intention of yielding my position until I am too old for the task," said Benarus. "I expected to have gray hairs when the Heir of Kings first appeared." He looked upward. "Now, Relma has several chores she needs to attend to.


    "Her prolonged absence has caused her to skip a great many."


    "I''ll get her to the dormitories," said Aren. "Pan, you had some other concerns you wanted to bring up with Benarus."


    "I do," said Pan.


    Aren led Relma out. Relma had to admit her plan had worked. Better than she could have hoped, in fact. But at the same time, she felt not guilty but strange. It was weird to be back in Gel Carn as if nothing had happened.


    "Well, my girl, we''ve dodged an arrow or two there," said Aren. "Things should work out well now, assuming everyone does their best. But, of course, that is a rather large assumption.


    "In my experience, people rarely do their best except in the worst situations. Now, I believe you have work to do."


    "Don''t remind me," said Relma.


    She got her assigned duties and went about them as quickly as possible. As she worked sweeping, Estela came by.


    "So, how did it go?" asked Estela, an edge in her tone.


    "I''ve been given a chance," said Relma. "And that''s all I need. Just wait, Estela. One day I''ll be King of Harlenor Reunited."


    "No, you won''t," said Estela.


    "You don''t know that," said Relma.


    "No, you won''t because House Vortegex rules Escor," said Estela. "Escor is a third of Harlenor Reunited. My Father will never bow to anyone. And I''m definitely not going to bow to you."


    "Look, can you let me have my moment?" asked Relma, annoyed.


    "I believe your moment was when you stood before an army with a sword surrounded by light," said Estela.


    "But I was terrified," said Relma.


    "Not my problem," said Estela.


    At that moment, Ronald rushed up to her around the corner. "Hey, Relma, good news."


    "What is it?" asked Relma.


    "Sir Frederick has offered me a position as his squire," said Ronald. "He says he has needed one for years."


    "That''s great," said Relma.


    "Good work," said Estela. "What impressed him?"


    "Well, he didn''t think much of starting a fire," said Ronald. "But it was going to rescue Relma in the first place, which impressed him. So I''m going to be Sir Frederick''s squire!"


    "Well, on that note," said Estela, "I heard what happened to Tanith."


    "What was it?" asked Relma.


    "Wrynncurth sent two black dragons to hunt her down," said Estela. "They haven''t been heard from since."


    Relma blinked. "What? How do two dragons just disappear?"


    "Last we heard from them, they were heading to attack. She was crossing the river into the heartlands," said Estela. "They followed after her, but Tanith''s ship arrived safely with her on board. Apparently, the heads of two black dragons were lashed to the bow. She bought the entire crew drinks when they arrived, which was nice.


    "Wrynncurth has his flight scouring the river for the bodies. If he was furious before, he must be absolutely enraged now.


    "Benarus put a bounty on her head, though. One high enough that every sellsword and mercenary in the heartlands will come after her."


    "Tanith will probably just enjoy that," said Relma. "She got what she wanted, after all."


    "She''ll make for Brisgald," said Estela. "That''s up in the north near the border with Seathorius. Tanith''s family has good relations with House Gabriel. So she''ll have an easy time getting a ship there."


    "But can''t we tell them what happened?" asked Relma.


    "Why would they care?" asked Estela. "Even if we said Tanith engineered a war, she''d deny it. And they''ll believe her over someone they don''t know."


    "Well, what about Wrynncurth," said Relma. "He''ll want revenge."


    "Well, yes," said Estela. "But Wrynncurth isn''t going to start a confrontation with Duke Vanion over this. Or at least I wouldn''t. He''s ancient, you see.


    "If I were Wrynncurth, I''d wait for a generation or two. Then take vengeance on Tanith''s reincarnation."


    "But Tanith won''t even remember she did the crime then," said Relma.


    "But she still did it," noted Estela. "To immortals, our identities are masks worn by a greater entity. Either way, Tanith is going to come to a bad end."


    "Because of the tree?" asked Ronald.


    "No, not the tree, you idiot," said Estela. "Because of the way she acts. She''s impulsive, bloodthirsty, and makes enemies wherever she goes. Unfortunately, being a master at killing people can only get you far.


    "Maybe her luck will run out. Maybe she''ll meet someone who is a better swordsman than her. Or maybe she''ll get old and burn out. No matter what happens, she''ll end up lying face down in a pool of blood sooner or later."


    At that moment, Argath appeared. They turned to see him approaching them with a severe expression. "What are you three doing standing around here? Get your gear in place. I want you out in the training yard with all the rest within the hour."


    "Yes, sir!" said Relma.


    Training with a spear and shield was much better than scullery work. And training to lead and rule was something that Relma couldn''t wait to start doing. She wanted to be great. She wanted her name to go down in history, to be spoken of in legends. She wanted to have books written about her. To have children grow up wanting to be like her like she wanted to be like Anoa. As she donned her equipment, she saw Anoa by the doorway, smiling. Then he was gone.


    And Relma knew this wasn''t the end but the beginning.

 Book 3: The Spirit of Wrath

    Hi. I hope you all enjoyed adventuring with Relma and Estela throughout the lands of Gel Carn. However, the time has come for us to move from there to the faraway land of Eastern Kalthak. It lies under the dominion of Calisha in the Far East and has its own host of problems.


    I''d love to leave it there, but I need 500 words to post this. So, I''ll write some musings below on the writing process. Read if you want.


    Relma, as a character, had a much less elaborate creation process than William. Originally, she was envisioned as a proactive Chosen One. Like most Chosen Ones'', Relma has a unique destiny and excellent bloodlines. She has magical mentors and faithful companions she is introduced to gradually.


    However, unlike her counterparts, Relma is proactive. She deduces her true identity and makes good of it. Relma was meant to push the story forward instead of waiting for it to pull her. In addition, Relma is a foil because of her physical weakness.


    The instant expert trope is brutally averted. Relma successfully drew Lightning Trail. However, their rematch is a total defeat when the invincible Ajax comes after her. She is not instantly imparted with the skill to defeat a trained warrior because of destiny. Relma succeeds and survives not because of power but because of her charisma and intelligence. Estela and Ronald''s physical abilities are helpful. But they do their best work with other skills.


    In addition, while Relma is the Chosen One, there is a theme that she is not irreplaceable. Anoa X notably qualified for the job and still died. Pandora seems to be counting on Relma''s son to be the real Chosen One.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    However, for me, the most exciting part is the worldbuilding. The book introduces the conflict between Duke Vanion and Gail Arengeth. House Gabriel is almost an antagonist in this book. While they never appear, the astute reader will see many connections on a reread.


    Tanith Telus, the villain who sets the plot in motion, thinks highly of them. Indeed, she is mentioned by William in the previous book to be a childhood friend of his. One who left to go raiding a year before his adventures. Arengeth''s concern about Vanion''s growing power drives him to return.


    Argath Marn, Relma''s mentor, is a former political rival to Duke Vanion. One whom Vanion held in bitter envy for gaining the province of Artarq before him. This, in turn, kickstarted the Brisgald incident that allowed Vanion to destroy Borinius. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    This means that the Dreaming Goddess and the Heir of Kings are two books at cross-purposes. Both present opposing viewpoints on the other side''s cast of characters.


    To William, Duke Vanion is the person he aspires to please, a masterful strategist and hero. One who was denied his rightful due by evil men took it by force while saving the crown. Meanwhile, Argath Marn is a man who took credit for his victories.


    In contrast, Gail Arengeth presents an alternative view. Argath Marn is a good man, even a patriot, ruined by slander. Vanion, in this view, is a social climbing snake, destroying anyone who gets in the way of his ambition.


    Only time will tell which one is true. What is certain is that Vanion and Gail Arengeth despise one another. And it is a vendetta stretching back Vanion''s entire life.


    Okay, I''ve beaten the five-hundred-word minimal limit. I''ll post the chapter after this.

 Prologue: The Blade of Chaos

    The Blade of Chaos was as elaborate as the legends Kushina had heard when she was a girl. It had an unholy green glow around the blackish-jagged metal. Its edges were serrated, and the eye upon the pommel followed her wherever Kushina walked. It hated her as it hated all the servants of Baltoth.


    Tuor, tall, broad-shouldered, with tan skin, looked at it fascinated. His white garments believed the blue-eyed serpent within. A smile played across his face, and not a pleasant one. Kushina remembered why she had never liked or trusted him, even when he was Aresh. He reached out with scarred fingers so that they were mere inches from the blade. Kushina lowered her staff and set it to his hand in warning.


    The Disciple of Baltoth he might have been, but that was too far. Tuor drew his hand back and looked at her. His eyes were far older than his body. He was almost forty, though his body showed no signs of weakness. "The Blade of Chaos. It was wielded by the champion of Typhos long ago. Entire armies have been laid to waste by this blade.


    "And now it stands within this shrine. Waiting."


    "You hold that blade in too much fascination, Tuor," said Kushina. "It is the nemesis of Order." Fascination was an understatement; the gleam in his eye could not be trusted.


    "Chaos and Order are but two aspects of a greater whole, Priestess Kushina," said Tuor with a shrug. "One without the other leads to weakness and oblivion."


    "A perfect Order would lead to a paradise," said Kushina. "An imperfect one may be lightened. But perfect Chaos would destroy all. Why did you wish to speak with me?"


    Tuor turned and walked further up the great hall before looking at a suit of armor that once belonged to him. It had been in another life, and for a moment, Tuor looked like that other life. He seemed Aresh again for a moment, the kindhearted man Kushina had grown up with.


    Then he turned around. "Calisha is waning. New enemies have come to replace the old. The children of Baltoth bicker and fight with one another for power. We thrive from the splendor of a great past rather than in pursuit of a better future."


    "There is much that is still great and may become greater," said Kushina. So, where was he going with this?


    "Yes," said Tuor. "If it is allowed to flower."


    "Speak plainly," said Kushina.


    "The inevitable truth, Kushina, is that Order is inherently temporary," said Tuor. "All systems, no matter how well designed, eventually fail. The virtue of those who created it gives way to the degeneracy of the next generation. Or, in the case of immortals, virtue fails, and vices take shape.


    "So all orders must change with time or be overcome.


    "I ask you this: if Chaos is inevitable, why should we not use the chaos to advance the cause of Baltoth?" There seemed wisdom in what he was saying, but Kushina did not trust it or him. She kept a few weeks away and wondered where Schazara, her sister, was.


    "You suggest using the Blade of Chaos?" asked Kushina. Was he mad? Perhaps he was. He had the memories of hundreds of lives in his mind. Disciple of Baltoth he might be, but his agents enjoyed a great deal of autonomy.


    "Of course," said Tuor. "Typhos'' has awoken from her long sleep. With her waking, the sword has begun to grow in power again.


    "Were a worthy wielder found for it, we might use the blade. Imagine it, Priestess. Two warriors of unsurpassed skill, one wielding the Blade of Order. The other is the Blade of Chaos. How we would drive the armies of Harlenor before us and retake Artarq from their degenerate grip.


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    "Or, if Baltoth judges it, we might turn or gaze east instead. To Dinis, and the consorts of Zigildrazia. Too long has their depraved empire stifled the power of those within.


    "For Chaos is not in itself evil. But, when a system exists, one that stifles greatness rather than inspires it. When tyrants without virtue preside over a people, they seek to keep them in bondage. Is this not the time when Chaos must reign?


    "We may conjure a great fire in Dinis to consume them! And from the ashes will arise a more magnificent civilization!


    "And if none within Dinis prove worthy to rule, why not Calisha?"


    "You remember the old days of Kalthak," said Kushina. "The days of the God Wars.


    "I have read enough history to know. Blood ran in rivers. Brother murdered brother. Whole cities were burned. Monsters roamed the wilderness, devouring as they willed.


    "Change is necessary. But it must be done naturally with one small action at a time. A small stone cast into a serene pool may create many ripples. But when thrown into a raging ocean, it merely sinks."


    "But if the water does not shift, it will grow stagnant," said Tuor. "Disruption of things as they are is essential."


    "What you speak of is not disruption. It is mass destruction," said Kushina.


    Tuor remained silent for a moment. "What you say is true. But Dinis is our enemy. Their loss is our gain. In any case, I have certain plans in motion. Plans that the Blade of Chaos may be valuable in-"


    "Do you?" asked Kushina, not letting him finish. "Well, it does not matter. Aresh might have had the authority to give such orders. But Aresh left this place long ago, leaving the village to fend for itself. So your son has grown up without you. And since you have left Khasina, I do not acknowledge you as the King.


    "The Blade of Chaos will not be used. Not unless you can get authorization from the Emperor himself."


    Tuor remained silent for a moment. He seemed to be struggling with something, and Kushina saw a glimpse of Aresh. Then he looked down. "...So be it.


    "But there remains the question of what we are to do. The sword''s power was waning for centuries. Yet I have read the strands of fate. Typhos is rising. With her return, it may well call all monsters to it. Do you believe you will be able to contain it forever?


    "How long until it calls out to other powers. One less principled than ourselves?


    "Something must be done. Would it not be better to choose where that great rising occurs?"


    "Something may be done," agreed Kushina. Then she looked to the blade by Tuor''s side, and the obvious presented itself. She felt the will of Baltoth and heard his voice. And she knew what must be done. "Give me your sword, Aresh."


    Tuor looked down at the blade at his side. It was as simple as the Blade of Chaos was complex. There was no adornment of any kind on it. But Kushina could see an unworldly light within it. To Kushina''s surprise, there seemed to be hesitation, for he had wielded it a long time. "The Sword of Order? You would have me relinquish it?"


    "It was gifted to Aresh," said Kushina. "But now you are Tuor. It was forged by the God of Order to counteract the blade here. If the guardians of this shrine have it, then the watch will be that much stronger."


    "You wish it for yourself?" guessed Tuor, an edge in his tone.


    Typical of him. "I am but a priestess," said Kushina. "The sword is not mine to wield. However, I will give it to your son. As Aresh''s heir, it is only right for him to wield it."


    Tuor narrowed his eyes. "I have seen his progress. But, he still has much to learn."


    "How much have you taught him, Tuor?" asked Kushina.


    Tuor shifted beneath his cloak. "...Less than I should. I am the Disciple of Baltoth. I have many duties far afield, and my place... is away. Even if my heart once was.


    "Still, perhaps he could train among my own subordinates?"


    "To what end?" asked Kushina. He was angling at something.


    "Sometimes a different approach to the same problem yields better results," said Tuor. "Sahshir has not prospered here. So let me try my hand as a mentor, if not a father."


    "And I will keep the Sword of Order here for him?" asked Kushina. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Until such a time as you deem him ready to claim it," said Tuor.


    Kushina kept Tuor''s gaze for a time. Considering the angles, she sighed.


    "Agreed," said Kushina. "Should the worst occur, I can use it." Or so she hoped; Schazara was too young, only twelve, and Sahshir might never get the chance.


    Tuor looked away. "I do not like leaving a woman with the blade. But we have little choice."


    "When will you leave?" asked Kushina.


    "At once," said Tuor. "Many matters require my attention."


    "Should you not say goodbye to Sahshir?" asked Kushina.


    "I will leave a letter explaining the matter to you," said Tuor.


    Kushina ought to have known that would be his response. Aresh had been a kind man. Tuor was a beast. "That is, of course, your choice."


    She would speak to Sahshir soon.

 Chapter One: Initiation

    The leaves of trees were scattered before Abdul Sahshir like a funeral procession. They crunched beneath his feet, unable to hide the path ahead. He adjusted his mask as he scaled the slope, eyeing his surroundings. His hand was kept near the katana at his side as he climbed the slopes of Tuor''s fortress.


    His instincts told him he would be challenged.


    His eyes told him there was no one in sight. So he listened. Listened as he scaled every higher. A breeze blew past him, sending a cluster of leaves past him, and he heard footsteps to his left. His blade slid out of his sword in a moment. As it came out, a kunai was set to his throat. Black-clad assassins were all around him with swords drawn.


    Abdul remained silent. One wrong move, and he could die.


    "Drop it," said the leader, far slighter of build than the others. A girl. Very thin.


    "Stay your blades," said Abdul. "I am Abdul Sashir. I have been called by my Father, Aresh." The assassin holding the kunai was smaller than the others, slightly built, and very thin. Female.


    She looked up at him with blue eyes. "We are well aware. If you were unwelcome, you would be dead. Drop the sword."


    Sahshir let go, and the blade clattered to the path''s stones. Their blades were withdrawn. She pulled back her mood to reveal fair features and pointed ears. An elf''s hair was violet, a mark of devotion to Rioletta. "I am Nayasha, the servant of Master Tuor. The name Aresh no longer has any meaning. It is, surprisingly, you are here at all. With such a lack of stealth, you would not long survive."


    Abdul flexed his fingers. As she reached down to clasp the blade at his feet, he slipped one foot beneath the sword and kicked it into the air. As it rose, he caught it. The men around him surged forward, but he weaved past their blades.


    For a moment, their swords flashed in the noonday sun.


    Then Abdul brought down his blade to rest. Its edge was near the girl''s throat. The other assassins were all reeling. "It is not by stealth that I win my battles."


    He felt something and glanced down to see a knife at his side. "Proud words from a proud fool. We would have both died today. And you would have achieved nothing."


    "Had this been a true battle, all your subordinates would be dead," said Sahshir.


    "And you would be a hunted renegade," said Nayasha. "But then, if this were a true battle, you would have been killed before you drew your sword. Must we continue this futile exercise further?"


    Both drew back their weapons. Sahshir sheathed the blade. Nayasha returned the favor with her own gun. "Don''t try that again. I may have been forbidden from killing you. But I can still give you a scar for teaching''s sake.


    "Follow me."


    And so they scaled higher on Tuor''s Mountain. When the Disciple of Baltoth had come here, it was a barren wasteland like most of Kalthak. But he had tended the plants here day after day, year after year. Finally, grass and bushes began to grow. The fields became forests over hundreds of years and many lives.


    Now it was a majestic place.


    A place where all manner of trees could be seen. Many Sahshir had never seen the like of. Brought from all over the world.


    "These lands are strange and beautiful," said Sahshir.


    "Do not be fooled," said Nayasha. "There are dangers within this place which would devour such as you easily. We dwell near the land of Dinis, where the world''s laws are warped. And many of the creatures within that place have slipped in here in recent years."


    "You judge too quickly," said Sahshir. "Many of them dwell in the forests of my home as well. Or do you forget what we guard?"


    "You are easy to judge," said Nayasha. "And I did not forget."


    "The writings of Baltoth say, "Look for the man who judges others powerless. For he is easily manipulated." said Sahshir.


    "The words you say are but ink scrawled across murdered trees," said Nayasha.


    "And we are skeletons surrounded by flesh with blood coursing through us," said Sahshir. "Yet we are more than what we are made of."


    "You spout many wise-sounding words for a fool," noted Nayasha.


    "It is written: The wise man knows his limits and strives to exceed them. On the other hand, the fool stands upon his achievements. He says, ''I am the greatest; there is none beside me,''" said Sahshir. He did so purely to infuriate her.


    "Shut up," said Nayasha.


    Sahshir considered this a verbal surrender.


    Soon, they came to the Order of Discipline''s base of operations. The villages that Sahshir would one day were stretched out. They were built in valleys and woods where farming was easy. But Tuor had situated his order on a plateau near the mountain''s peak. The buildings were of stone, not work, and were packed closely together. The roof was slanted like Sahshir''s own, but they had tiles of gleaming blue, not wood.


    At the center of the compound was a round altar. Sahshir sensed a power from it, a radiance. But the source was gone. Once, something of great power had lain there.


    "Is that where the Grail of Immortality once lay?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Nayasha. "It was forged by Elranor, the god of healing, long ago to grant his chosen servants eternal life. Tuor and your father stole it from the Sorcerer Arengeth and spirited it away to Calisha.


    "And here it stood for many years."


    "Until you lost it," noted Sahshir.


    "Garacel is not one to cross," said Nayasha.


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    "Garacel was a Love God," said Sahshir. "One at a mere fraction of his power."


    "He is very cunning," said Nayasha. "And when he raided us, Tuor had not yet returned from his present life."


    "Of course, he hadn''t," said Sahshir. "Garacel was defeated by Baltoth with one corrupt minister." Nayasha looked at him with fury.


    "Baltoth is Inexorable, eternal, and beyond the comprehension of any of us. Yet, his cunning extends beyond this mere reality and has saturated every aspect of the world. His power sets the heavens in motion and harnesses the fires of the earth. All that is his to command.


    "You''ll forgive us if we have not quite his power."


    "It is written, ''There is no excuse for failure save the will to overcome it,''" said Sahshir.


    "A great many things are written," said Nayasha. "And the failure is as much your fault as ours. Tuor usually regains his memories at the age of eighteen. But because of you, he tarried for years before resuming his duties."


    Sahshir almost went for his weapon. Almost. He remembered the day that Father had left. It had been without warning. One day, he watched Sahshir''s training and congratulated him on his work. The next, he had been gone.


    It had been done without so much as a letter.


    At least until now.


    Sahshir was led onto a raised walkway, which led up to a great hall with only one entrance he could see. Two high doors led in. Nayasha drew out some keys and opened the door. They walked into the hall before heading up another set of stairs.


    Finally, she came to the door. Here, she unlocked it. "He waits for you within. I suggest you show less impudence."


    Sahshir met her gaze. "I will show respect when he proves he has earned it."


    "You will not live long, then," said Nayasha.


    She opened the door.


    Sahshir walked through the door and into a strange sight. As he expected, he was within a grove rather than a training hall. However, the skies above were blue rather than red, and no walls were around him. Cherry blossom trees were in full bloom around him. And amid these trees was Tuor.


    He sat cross-legged. His hair had gone completely white, whereas it had been black and graying before. A long iron staff lay beside him, and a cup of tea was by him.


    "Tuor. The disciple of Baltoth," said Sahshir, walking forward.


    Tuor glanced back. Green eyes met his. "So you have come then, son. How fair is the city of my most recent birth?"


    "You know all too well the answer," said Sahshir.


    "True," conceded Tuor. "But questions have many purposes. First, ask someone a question and know them by their answer. Even if they have no information of value."


    "A test," guessed Sahshir.


    "Yes. I wanted to see how you would respond," said Tuor. "I have heard less than flattering descriptions of you, Abdul Sahshir."


    "I don''t care," admitted Sahshir.


    "It is written in the book of Baltoth: The son must honor the father. The daughter must honor the mother. It is by the binds of the family that nations are forged," noted Tuor.


    "Did not Baltoth cast down his father long ago?" asked Sahshir. "Is it not the way of power that the lesser should overthrow the greater? The son must seek to exceed the father, or the bloodline will deteriorate."


    "You speak of ancient history rather than the words of your god," noted Tuor.


    "I follow his words," said Sahshir. "For it is also written; ''Heed not only one source. By understanding many views, you may manipulate all.''"


    "So you would cast aside part of the sacred texts by taking another part out of context," noted Tuor. "I can see why Nayasha dislikes you.


    "Are you certain you wish to accept my training?"


    Sahshir set a hand to his blade. "I have not come here for training."


    "Then why are you here?" asked Tuor.


    "To kill you," said Sahshir.


    He drew his sword and rushed toward Tuor, the blade gleaming. Even as it descended, Tuor snatched up his staff and rolled backward. He remained out of reach of Sahshir''s blade. From there, he unleashed a flurry of rapid stabs that forced him on the defensive.


    Sahshir leaped over the spear as Tuor tried to knock his legs out from under him. Then, flipping over the older man, he brought down his sword at the neck. But Tuor slid his staff backward and struck Sahshir in the gut, sending him falling away.


    Sahshir caught himself and rolled to a kneel. Then, parrying the inevitable counterassault by Tuor, he held him in place. "Hmm, you have some skill," said the master. "I see now that my judgment was correct."


    Sahshir caught the staff under one armpit and slashed at Tuor. But Tuor grabbed him by the wrist as he slashed, and they trapped each other. Sahshir lashed out with a knee, but Tuor countered it. They wrangled and twisted in a stalemate. Then Tuor slammed his head against Sahshir''s forehead, sending him falling back.


    His sword fell from his grip, and Tuor caught it. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Tuor examined the sword in one hand before spinning it around and offering it to Sahshir. A humiliation. But he would use it to kill his enemy. Sahshir snatched the weapon and wrenched it into Tuor''s hand. The blood spilled from his hand.


    Rising up, Sahshir drove a knife up. But then he was disarmed and pinned in a moment.


    "You hold me in great hatred, do you not?" asked Tuor.


    "More than any other, I hate you," said Sahshir.


    "Do you resent Aresh?" asked Tuor. "Or the Disciple?"


    "Both," said Sahshir. "For the Disciple called my father from my home and left it to be ruled by lesser men. And Aresh abandoned me of his own will, leaving without making any provision for me. So that which should be rightfully mine is now all but taken.


    "Yours is not the first knife that has come for me. And I would rather force you to kin slaying and damn you than wait to be killed or bend the knee."


    "I was never told of this," said Tuor.


    "Then it seems your judgment is not without flaw," said Sahshir.


    "Perhaps." conceded Tuor. "But it does hold authority." He relaxed his grip and walked away.


    "Nayasha, what is the meaning of this?"


    Nayasha emerged from where she had been hidden. "It was necessary."


    "Are you not my servants?" asked Tuor. "Bound to serve me by the authority of Baltoth? Why is it that you have not told me of these events? Or are they lies?"


    "They are not," said Nayasha. "The order judged that for you to know of events in Aresh''s family would be counterproductive."


    "I see," said Tuor. "Leave us."


    Nayasha bowed. "As you command."


    As she departed, Tuor turned to Sahshir. "You came here resolved to kill me. Did it not occur to you that this might be a grave blow to Baltoth?"


    "You would return in a single generation," said Sahshir.


    "You are skilled with a blade, Abdul Sahshir," said Tuor, drawing some bandages from a packet in his vest. "But you lack sense. What if you had killed me? What would you have done here in the heart of my power?"


    "Been satisfied for the few remaining minutes of my life," said Sahshir.


    "And been known as a heretic and a kinslayer for all time," said Tuor. He wrapped the bandage around his hand. "Killing one''s parents is nearly as grave a sin as killing one''s children. Or did you not know?"


    Sahshir had known. He just hadn''t considered it. "I assumed you''d kill me," he admitted after a moment.


    "Never make a plan that can''t survive success," said Tuor. "Getting a useless victory is as bad as a defeat." He tied the bandage with only the fingers of one hand. "So tell me of these knives directed at you, Abdul?"


    "When you left the village, there was no clear leader," said Sahshir. "The rule fell to the priestess Yuna. She kept things for a while, but her mantle passed to Kushina."


    "Your friend from childhood," said Tuor. "She is your age."


    "Yes," said Sahshir. "She was not trusted to rule despite her power. So the running of the kingdom fell to my uncle, Asim."


    "I remember him," said Tuor. "He resented me, that is to say, Aresh, for being born first. I believe he was why Aresh remained dominant for so long."


    "Asim does not wish to cede power to me," said Sahshir. "And my... affliction has prejudiced the villagers against me. So, I have spent my life living in fear of accidents.


    "Because you left."


    "It is written: ''Ambition often is the bane of family,''" said Tuor. "And it was written for a reason. In any case, my invitation came at a good time. You should have viewed this as an opportunity.


    "With my training, I can make you strong enough to crush Asim and force his submission. Or simply take his head if you so desire."


    "If I was satisfied to take his head, it would have been on the floor years ago," said Sahshir. "His son pales in comparison to my skill. His attempts on my life only began once people noted my prowess with a blade."


    "Then why did you not act?" asked Tuor.


    "He has the loyalty of the men," said Sahshir. "It would be a kin slaying without purpose."


    "Then there may be hope for you," Tuor said, smiling. "Let this be your first lesson, Abdul Sahshir. Power cannot be gained overnight. It must be learned through careful study. And mastered through disciplined practice.


    "A power that comes easily is no power at all."


    Then, suddenly, there was a piercing sensation within Sahshir''s heart. White-hot agony shot through him. A blade, now gleaming, was driven through his heart, held by a spectral hand. His vision faded, and all went dark.


    Sahshir awoke. At once, he realized he was within his mask. Rising quickly, he found himself lying in regular clothes on a bed. Was he alive? Yet he had seen a blade pierce his heart? Felt the pain of the wound. I saw the blood drip down.


    He was within a simple room, not a cell. And he was not wearing his mask. Where was his mask? His eyes peered throughout the room for any sign of clothes to hide what was beneath him. Then a door opened.


    Quickly, he fled to the shadows. Nayasha peered through. "You are up. Good." She tossed him a set of black clothes. "Put these on and come quickly."


    "I was dead," said Sahshir.


    "The blade was one of mind," said Nayasha. "The one who died was your old self. Now come quickly; it will not do to be late."


    "Late for what?" asked Sahshir.


    "Your training," said Nayasha.


    So Sahshir began his tutelage under Tuor. He was sixteen years old at the time.

 Chapter Two: Diamonds in the Rough

    It was the third week since Narcissa and Alkela had run away from the District of Red Lamps where they lived. At least Narcissa was beginning to regret it as they wandered the dark tan streets of Zigilus. They existed wholly to please Zigildrazia, whether in a brothel or on the tiled dark streets. They''d been told that by the gleaming red runes on every street corner. So why had they run away?


    Had Zigildrazia willed that? Did she want them to starve to death? Narcissa guessed she and Alkela could, but...


    It seemed like a waste. Narcissa and Alkela were twins and looked too good to starve.


    Right now, they were eating some bread that Narcissa had managed to snatch for the both of them. As she ate, Narcissa looked up at Alkela. Her twin was eyeing her with resentment. Her hair was messy, and Narcissa hated how the dirt ruined her complexion. Matron Zarana had always kept them looking nice. Now, they looked terrible.


    "Don''t give me that look," said Narcissa. "Stealing food is hard. I know that if we don''t get enough of it, it''ll affect our appearance. But what other choice do we have?"


    Alkela kept on looking.


    "I know that Zigildrazia wants us to be beautiful," said Narcissa. "But she also wants us to follow the rules. If we return, Matron Zarana will have us break Zigildrazia''s laws."


    Alkela looked down at the ground, and they finished their meal in peace. Then, suddenly, there was a low snarling. Narcissa''s neck hairs stood on end, and she grabbed Alkela by the hand, leading her out of the alley.


    Even as she did so, something rushed after them. Risking a glance back, Narcissa saw a raishan. It was a hulking beast in the form of a lizard, and flames breathed from it after them. She pushed Alkela down and put herself over her sister as the fire overtook them. Sweat dripped from Narcissa as she gazed up in horror. The creature loomed over them.


    There were no guards around to save them. So what was it doing out here in daylight?


    There was no time to find the answers. No time to run. The beast lunged.


    And then it stopped. The creature choked visibly as a foam of blood poured from its mouth. It keeled over, and as it did, the top of its head slid off. As the corpse faded away, Narcissa saw him.


    He took the form of a suit of armor. Those worn by the samurai of ancient Kalthak. It was black as night, and a hateful mask was on the front. Yet beyond the mask was no face, only a spectral pink flame. Clutched in one gauntlet was a sword that made her heartbeat just to look at it.


    She knew him, she thought. Perhaps she had always known him. Lord Garacel.


    "Who... who are you?" she gasped.


    "I am Garacel." said the spirit, sheathing his sword. His voice was like metal.


    Narcissa stood up and pulled up Alkela. They had to look their best. "Garacel? You mean... Do you mean you''re the Seeker of Her Radiance? The champion of Zigildrazia? That legendary warrior who has killed entire armies?"


    "I am," said Garacel. "I have not been to Zigilus in nearly a hundred years. Although the world has changed much, it has changed little. I expect she prefers it that way."


    "Thank you, my Lord," said Narcissa, bowing. "Well, uh... we''ll-"


    "Stay where you are," said Garacel. "What are your names?"


    Why was he asking? Did he desire them? They didn''t look very nice now; he was Zigildrazia''s primary subordinate. Was he breaking the rules? "I am Narcissa. And this is my sister Alkela."


    Narcissa looked down.


    Garacel approached, forcing her eyes to his mask with one cold gauntlet. "Where are your family?"


    "We don''t have any, Lord Garacel," said Narcissa. "Our parents sold us to Matron Zarana to pay off their debts."


    "I see," said Garacel. "Where do you seek shelter?"


    "Anywhere we can find it," said Narcissa. "We ran away from... from where we were living some time ago."


    "Can your sister speak for herself?" asked Garacel.


    "She... she can''t speak at all," said Narcissa. "It''s something she''s had from birth. Please don''t kill her, Lord Garacel. I know it''s a disability, but it doesn''t affect her appearance!"


    "You need not fear," said Garacel. "The inability to speak is not a disability punishable by death. It is not punishable at all. It appeals to some."


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    "Thank you," said Narcissa. "We''ll keep moving."


    "Hold for a moment," said Garacel. Narcissa felt like something was gazing deeply into her. "Yes, yes, I sense it."


    "Sense what?" asked Narcissa.


    He looked down at her hard. "Um, forgive me, Lord Garacel," said Narcissa.


    "I sense within both of you the bloodline of the Demonic Archons," said Garacel. "I might have guessed from your appealing appearance. Few street rats are so well-groomed. It is fair, indeed."


    "What does that mean?" asked Narcissa.


    "It means I may have a use for you," said Garacel. "You stand at a crossroads. That demon that attacked you was drawn to you by your bloodline. Unfortunately, those who bear the heritage of Zigildrazia often attract peril.


    "There will be others coming after you soon. Alone and on the streets, you will not survive long."


    "We''ve survived so far," said Narcissa, feeling independent. "And that''s not the first demon we''ve dodged. We''ve just got to stay near the guards. "Grakus like to make snacks of those things. So they pay us to lure them to them."


    "Perhaps," said Garacel. "But if you remained as an outcast, sooner or later, people would realize you were attracting them. You would have to blend in and seek employment. To disappear faceless into the crowds.


    "Even if you desire that the options open to one of your qualities are limited. Tell me, why did you flee from Zarana? You must have known that it would endanger you?"


    "I..." Narcissa felt reluctant to tell the truth. But she found it was being drawn out of her. She could trust Garacel. He was the Seeker of Zigildrazia. "Alkela and I developed earlier. Zarana meant to have us service a client before we were of age."


    "Did she?" asked Garacel, voice cold. "I will deal with her in good time. But, for now, you have a unique opportunity. I wish to offer you a place as my subordinate."


    What? "You do?" asked Narcissa, hardly able to believe her ears.


    "Yes," said Garacel. "I will train both of you in the art of combat. Under my tutelage, you will learn to master the bloodline that runs through you and gain power. True power. You will receive free room and board at the Sanctum of Zigildrazia in exchange for your service. You may advance if you perform your duties well and prove a valuable asset. Perhaps someday, become demons yourselves.


    "I will not force the issue, of course. If you wish, you can return to begging for scraps and being hunted by demons. Doomed to be hunted down or made a victim by an exploitative society. One which values the lower beings only for their bodies.


    "This choice will only come once. After that, it''s yours to make."


    Narcissa stared at him. "...Is there any reason to say no?"


    "You may say whatever you wish," said Garacel.


    Narcissa had never been given a choice like this. Running away had seemed so natural by comparison. For a moment, she hesitated and looked to Alkela, then back. "Yes," said Narcissa. "The answer is yes. Right, Alkela?"


    Alkela nodded. Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Good. Then I will take you to the Sanctum of Zigildrazia," said Garacel. "First, however, there is one matter that needs attending me. Keep up."


    This must have been why everything happened. Zigildrazia must have wanted them to meet with Garacel in this place.


    Garacel led them through the black-paved streets and back to the District of Red Lamps. There, they came to the place Narcissa had called home. It was a three-story, square building with elaborate brown pillars on the front. Spells had been inlaid into the stonework so that it shone hundreds of pink lights outward.


    The lights spelled:


    Zarana''s Delights.


    As they approached, Narcissa prayed that Garacel wouldn''t hurt Zarana. She and Alkela were going to be employees eventually. So, what did it matter if they were employees a few years early?


    She tried to say this, but then the red runes everywhere gleamed in her eyes. Narcissa found herself relaxing, oddly enough. Garacel was the Seeker of Her Radiance; he knew best. They entered the bar.


    Sera and Ansora were dancing on their poles for the entertainment of patrons. Patrons cheered and drank and threw coins. Sera and Ansora were doing very well today, dancing to the music skillfully.


    Narcissa remembered a time when she had dreamed of being up there. Dreams that grew stronger when she was lying awake in bed. Looking into the red runes. She knew that she and Alkela were beautiful to look at now and were twins. That added value to them.


    Garacel raised a hand, and the music halted. It wasn''t that the musicians had ceased to play or the instruments broke. Wind simply did not come from the wind instruments. The strings ceased to twang. All the patrons looked up to see Garacel in fear.


    Zarana came forward, brushing some strands of black hair from her face. She strove to speak. But Garacel beat her to it. "Matron Zarana."


    "Lord Garacel..." said Zarana. Her voice was small, and she was shaking. Several patrons tried to get up and leave, but Garacel just looked at them. They sat back down.


    "I received a distressing report." continued Garacel, voice low so only they could hear. "These children tell me you intended to have them begin work before they came of age. Is this true?"


    "Of course not!" said Zarana. "Narcissa is a nice girl but prone to telling lies. Please don''t take her seriously. I was apprehensive about her." She had been. Narcissa caught the look of betrayal in Zarana''s eyes and shuddered.


    She hadn''t meant to tell Garacel. It had just happened.


    "I have a policy of giving everyone I speak with the benefit of the doubt," said Garacel. "However, I should warn you that you will suffer if my investigations reveal you are lying. Zigildrazia is very firm; the children should not be exploited."


    "You won''t find anything. I promise you," said Zarana.


    "Good," said Garacel. "These two are being taken to the Sanctum of Zigildrazia. You are to cease any searches for them."


    Zarana nodded. "I understand, of course."


    "Good," said Garacel. "Pray that I do not come here again." Then he looked to Narcissa and Alkela. "Come, both of you. We have work to do."


    Narcissa obeyed. She hoped Zarana and the others didn''t hate her now. As they walked, however, she caught sight of a red rune. And all her concerns faded. It just didn''t seem important anymore.


    A question occurred. "Um, why did you come here, Master Garacel?" asked Narcissa.


    "I was looking for you," said Garacel.


    "But you didn''t even know who we were," said Narcissa.


    "I knew there was a rising power in Zigilus," said Garacel. "So I sought it out. As it turns out, there were two of them."


    "Do you do this often?" asked Narcissa.


    "Child, I am the Seeker of Zigildrazia. One of my primary responsibilities is to find powers such as yourself," said Garacel. "Have you ever seen the Sanctum of Zigildrazia before?"


    "No," said Narcissa." Are we really going there?"


    "Yes," said Garacel. "I think you will find Her Radiances accommodations far preferable."


    So Narcissa and Alkela entered the service of Zigildrazia. They were fifteen years old at the time, and Alkela was the younger.

 Chapter Three: Into the Sanctum

    The Sanctum of Zigildrazia rose high over the entire city with many domes and gargoyles. When you stood on top of a rooftop, you could see it from anywhere between the three gates of Zigilus. But it had never dawned on Narcissa how huge it was when she came beneath the shadow of the immense cathedral. The enormous black double doors were more than three times her height. Dozens of statues were on the steeples and towers. They were shaped like posing succubi with huge breasts and wide hips.


    Just looking at the temple made Narcissa''s heart flutter. What kind of untold depravities and horrors occurred in a world like this? Narcissa had a mental picture of herself and Alkela being bound to an altar in Zigildrazia''s name. Maybe ritually sacrificed. Would she look better hanging from chains? "Look at this, Alkela. It is huge!"


    "Have you never been here?" asked Garacel.


    "Zarana always kept us on a close leash," said Narcissa. "And after we ran away, we were kept out of this district. We weren''t well dressed enough."


    "It isn''t the dressing by which it is determined who can enter," said Garacel. "In any case, stay quiet. And stay close. The Sanctum of Zigildrazia could be dangerous for you. At least, if you were separated from me before, you are well known.


    "We''ll take the back door." And he began to walk.


    Narcissa and Alkela walked behind him, feeling a bit disappointed. She''d wanted to make a grand entrance, but that wouldn''t happen now. "Why the back?"


    "Mass is in session, I believe," said Garacel. "Though Her Radiance often changes the times and days on a whim."


    "Mass?" asked Narcissa. "I remember Zarana never took us there. She said it was for degenerates."


    "Yes, well, that remains a matter of perspective," said Garacel as they approached a side door. "I will admit that including exotic dancers may have been going too far.


    "Come."


    And he rapped on the door. For a moment, he waited. Then the door slid open, and a thin old man looked through. He wore concealing black robes and had wispy, graying hair. Garacel somehow looked surprised, even if he had no facial expressions. "Illaryus, I see you still live."


    Illaryus cracked a smile that revealed crooked teeth. "Yes, for the moment. However, I''m afraid my days as Battleluster of Zigildrazia are far behind me. Who are these you bring with you?"


    "They are Narcissa and Alkela, twin sisters," said Garacel. "These are those I sought. The temple did receive my message, did you not?"


    "I did, of course," said Illaryus. "It a pleasure to meet the two of you. I''m Illaryus, the Head Battleluster of Zigildrazia."


    "I''m Narcissa, um, aren''t you a bit... uh... old?" asked Narcissa. She''d always been told Battlelusters were immensely handsome and beautiful without flaw.


    "Yes, well, time catches up with all save Her Radiance," said Illaryus. He turned and motioned for them to follow. "My glory days are behind me, but I can still drive a sword home. As for my age, there are spells to make one''s features appear younger, but they are superficial.


    "My joints still hurt like anyone else. And the spell left me feeling... stretched. Given a choice between the truth and a lie, I decided to take the truth. I can''t exactly attract young maidens anymore, but that is all the moot point at this stage."


    "You seem to have settled into your duties well," said Garacel. "It has been... seventy years, I believe?"


    "Sixty-three," said Illaryus as they walked.


    "You handled yourself very well against the Kalthakians then," said Garacel. "I don''t believe I ever had the chance to tell you that."


    "It was my pleasure, Lord Garacel," said Illaryus.


    The halls they walked through were of black stone. And something about their dimensions seemed wrong. First, their angles were jagged; then, when you looked hard, they went smooth. Narcissa hoped they would have to spend less time in here.


    "Of that, I am sure," said Garacel. "I remembered you laughed as you cleft a bloody swath through their ranks. It was a memorable event.


    "Do you feel capable of instructing these two in battle?"


    "It would be my honor, of course," said Illaryus. "We''ve had precious few Battleluster potentials of late, I''m afraid. The order is aging."


    "But why are there so few?" asked Narcissa.


    "Zigilus isn''t quite the same as it once was," admitted Illaryus. "There isn''t as much enthusiasm. And since we became part of the Dinis Empire, people prefer the stability of the legions. At least to the bloodcurdling fury of axes and swords."


    They came to a large hall. There were long tables of brown wood with many stools by it. A large stone stage was at the far end of the table, with poles rising from it.


    "This is where our meals are eaten," said Illlaryus. "There is usually entertainment provided."


    "Excellent, then I will take my leave for now," said Garacel. "I have much work to do here and must go." He turned to walk away.


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    "Lord Garacel," said Illaryuys.


    Garacel halted and glanced back. "Yes?"


    "There is still the matter of the paperwork to fill out," said Illaryus.


    "Could not you deal with it?" asked Garacel.


    "I''m afraid not. You will have to fill it out yourself," said Illaryus. "Those are the rules."


    "My hands are metal gauntlets," said Garacel. "Clutching a quill usually breaks it. And the spikes on my gauntlets usually knock over the inkwells."


    "I could write it for you," said Narcissa, wanting to be helpful. "Zarana taught me how."


    "I''m afraid you aren''t of sufficient rank for that, young Narcissa," said Illaryus, smiling.


    "No, but I mean, Garacel could dictate, and I could write down what he says," said Narcissa.


    "I would greatly appreciate that," said Garacel.


    Garacel and Narcissa went to a dark room where paper and a quill were provided. Garacel stated a long paragraph of elaborate words. Narcissa did her best to keep up, but several times, she had to ask him for the spelling. Alkela merely watched. She had never learned to write.


    Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Narcissa''s neck stood up. Her pen stopped, and she looked up to the door. There, leaning against the doorframe, was a man. He wore a long tan cloak and black boots. His skin was as black as night, and a broad-brimmed hat was on his head. "The Seeker of Garacel in action. It is always a pleasure to observe such valiant feats of arms. And done through a child?"


    His voice was smooth, and there was something slimy about him. Narcissa did not like how he looked at her and Alkela. It was more like a hungry animal than a person admiring a prostitute. Narcissa didn''t think it was appropriate.


    Garacel glanced up. "Dakan. What are you doing here?"


    "Observing," said Dakan with a smile. "As always. And also fulfilling the mission you sent me on..." He drew out a letter and opened it before handing it to Garacel.


    Garacel scanned over it. His light burned paler. "So, the Blade of Chaos has begun to manifest. This is precisely what we needed."


    "Shall I-" began Dakan with a smile.


    "No," said Garacel. "Not yet. In time, the sword will call out to us. When the call arrives, we will heed it. But for now, it is too weak."


    "Very well then," said Dakan. "I shall ask the Emperor to postpone his invasion."


    "Don''t be a fool, Dakan," said Garacel. "Even Dinis cannot muster an army in a few days. And the Emperor is still working to consolidate his hold over the church."


    "What church?" asked Narcissa.


    "Missionaries from Elranor arrived some time ago," said Garacel. "They''ve been working on the Emperor for some time."


    "But Zarana is from the capital," said Narcissa. "She said that Elranor has been worshipped there for fifty years."


    "Yes, of course," said Garacel thoughtfully. "That is a considerable amount of time for you. But, in any case, they and other foreign gods have been working to undermine Her Radiance''s power. They''ve even gone so far as to outlaw Her Radiance''s most sacred rites in all cities save Zigilus.


    "We suspect he intends to bring his ''reforms'' to Zigilus soon. And we are taking measures against such a possibility. That is all you need to know." He folded the letter and rose to his feet. "Come, we will bring these to Illaryus. Then we will part ways for a time."


    "Yes, Master Garacel," said Narcissa.


    She and Alkela followed Garacal past Dakan. As they did so, Dakan''s eyes narrowed at them. He licked his lip and then looked to Garacel. "A pair of beautiful young girls you have there. I''m sure Zigildrazia will appreciate them."


    "They are not for that," snapped Garacel, voice holding a note of fury.


    "Then what are they for?" asked Dakan.


    "You already know or suspect the answer," said Garacel. "Get out of this place before I find occasion to have you arrested."


    Dakan shrugged. Then he faded into the shadows and emerged down the hall. He bowed with sarcasm. "As you command, Lover Eternal."


    As he went away, Narcissa looked to Garacel. "Lover Eternal?"


    "A relic of a past best forgotten," said Garacel.


    He said no more as they walked. They found Illaryus reading a book in a library. The priest glanced up as Garacel approached and gave him Narcissa''s work. "Illaryus, I have the documents you requested." S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Illaryus took it. "Thank you, Lord Garacel. I have made provisions for these two. If you follow me, I''ll take you to your quarters."


    So they parted ways with Garacel. Illaryus led the twins through the halls. As they did, his eyes narrowed. They were passing a door with two statues of succubi on either side. "Stay close. Do not wander off or take any side passages. Things go on in this place, which could result in your life taking a less-than-ideal path."


    "What do you mean?" asked Narcissa.


    "Do you see that door?" asked Illaryus. "That leads to the east wing. Never go there. That is where mortals are transformed into slave succubi."


    "You mean... you mean those mindless pets they transform criminals into?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes," said Illaryus. "Their creation was arranged after the fall of the Demon King Diabolus. As the succubi grew in power, demon lords began to desire consorts who were less likely to betray them. To this end, Zigildrazia created the slave succubi ritual.


    "It transforms ordinary mortals into ideal consort material. They have the pleasures and appearance of an ordinary demoness. But with none of the dangers."


    "Why are they less dangerous?" asked Narcissa.


    "To ascend to become a demon, one must grow in power. Your spirit must increase. It must grow to the point where your spirit breaks free of mortal bonds," said Illaryus. "The mortals who become slave succubi never reached that point. Instead, the process stretches their spirits and bodies, breaking their will.


    "It is a process similar to that of creating raishans. But with a very different end.


    "In any case, the point I was coming to is that you want to avoid being caught in the wrong place. Some of the demons here may take advantage of you."


    "But Zigildrazia has outlawed taking advantage of anyone not of age," said Narcissa.


    "Why should that matter?" asked Illaryus bitterly.


    "Well, this is her sanctum," said Narcissa. "Shouldn''t the demons here follow her rules?"


    "Child, let this be your first lesson," said Illaryus. "Rules are something that is applied to the lower classes. The more powerful you become, the fewer rules that apply to you. That is the secret of true power."


    "That... that doesn''t seem right," said Narcissa.


    Illaryus looked bitter. "Right and wrong are but words. There is no real truth to them. Now come, your training will take place in the eastern wing. That area is set aside to protect potentials, and the rules are enforced there."


    "Why enforce the law in one place but not another?" asked Narcissa.


    "If we didn''t enforce the law anywhere, we would never get anything done. And if we enforced the law everywhere. Her Radiance wouldn''t be a demon," said Illaryus, smile returning. "Would she?"


    Narcissa shifted nervously. That did make sense. Her Radiance couldn''t do anything wrong, after all. "...Fair enough."


    They would be with the temple for two more years before the legions came.


    "That... that doesn''t seem right," said Narcissa.


    Illaryus looked bitter. "Right and wrong are but words. There is no real truth to them. Now come, your training will take place in the eastern wing. That area is set aside to protect potentials, and the rules are enforced there."


    "Why enforce the law in one place but not another?" asked Narcissa.


    "If we didn''t enforce the law anywhere, we would never get anything done. And if we enforced the law everywhere. Her Radiance wouldn''t be a demon," said Illaryus, smile returning. "Would she?"


    Narcissa shifted nervously. That did make sense. Her Radiance couldn''t do anything wrong, after all. "...Fair enough."


    They would be with the temple for two more years before the legions came.

 Chapter Four: The Return

    Sahshir was meditating.


    His eyes were closed, but he could sense them. Feel their heartbeat. Feel the vibrations of their feet on the wood, even if they were not making a sound. Cross-legged, he waited, sensing around him.


    There were five of them, one coming from a panel above, two from the doors around him. The last two were below the floor.


    He was supposed to be hunting them.


    But why hunt when remaining still would draw them to him all at once.


    The doors opened. The floor and ceiling panels were thrown away. In came the rival assassins. Their blade cut through the air toward him from many directions.


    At that moment, he sensed where each blade would end up. His heart, his neck, his stomach. The others were there in case he dodged, to hem him in. He felt the will of the wielders behind the blades, their confidence. Rising, he moved aside from a stab, even as he ducked under the strike meant for his neck.


    Out came his blade, and he raked it across the man''s throat, meant to hem him in. They collapsed bonelessly, even as he turned to the other four. They approached him with coordination, but the leftmost one was out of formation.


    Sahshir rolled to that one''s side and brought his sword to their stomach. Shoving their limp form against the one beside him, he sent them tumbling. Leaping over their falling forms, Sahshir brought down a splitting strike to the head. Three down, two remained.


    Landing, he turned a counterattack from the rightmost assassin. Twisting, he plunged his sword into his heart. The last untangled himself from the limp form of his comrade. Before he could move, Sahshir passed him, slashing his sword through his stomach and out the other end. He would be cut into two pieces if it had been a standard sword. As it was, he collapsed. Sahshir turned the Ghost Sword and sheathed it. From there, he went back into a cross-legged position. He continued his meditations until Nayasha entered the room.


    "Well," said Nayasha, "that is one way to complete a mission."


    "I judged it to be the quickest solution to the problem," said Sahshir.


    "Your task was to escape the castle," said Nyasha. "Not kill every other person inside it."


    "Now that they are dead, I can leave at my leisure," said Sahshir. "And my name will be feared. So future enemies will desire to avoid my wrath."


    He''d left several dozen other such assassins collapsed.


    "That is true," said Nayasha. "However, you were also supposed to use stealth. Ambush. Deliberately putting yourself into positions to be ambushed to demonstrate your superiority."


    "I have practiced stealth much," said Sahshir. "The ability to sense life force, however, is something I have not. Using it, I could determine where they would strike and turn their ambush against them."


    "There are circumstances where detecting lifeforce in someone can injure you," noted Nayasha. "Gazing into the spirits of demons, for instance, can break you mentally. And demons sometimes appear in other forms.


    "The next time we do this exercise, I expect you to perform it in the manner it was intended to be won." The other assassins awoke and looked up as Nayasha looked down at them. "And don''t think that you are any better, Ashar. You became overconfident when you realized Sahshir was not running. By the time you started taking him seriously, he had already defeated many of your group."


    "You said there would be a reward for the group that defeated him," noted one of them.


    "Yes. It is another test," said Nayasha. "I wanted to see if you could cooperate when one of you would be rewarded greater than the others. You would surely have been victorious had you come at him all at once.


    "Moreover, when he had defeated most of you, why did you not run down the clock?"


    "Run down the clock?" asked Ashar.


    "Yes," said Nayasha. "In this setting, it was only a matter of time before reinforcements arrived. Your force was only a vanguard. You would have won by default if you had merely delayed Sahshir a few hours.


    "You could have avoided a confrontation with him until he decided to leave or seek you out. In that circumstance, you would have reversed his advantage. You could have picked the field of battle. Instead, you continued to play to his strengths."


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    "I understand," said Ashar.


    "Good," said Nayasha. "Sahshir, you wanted to speak with Master Tuor after this. Go to him. The rest of you get together and prepare for more practice."


    Sahshir nodded.


    He had learned over his time here that this place had innumerable passages and secret ways. In the first few of these sessions, he was defeated and caught through them many times. Now, he used them to reach the sanctum of Tuor.


    This time, the cherry blossoms were nowhere to be found. Instead, Tuor was meditating in a wasteland with the same red sky you saw everywhere else. The violet sun glared brightly at him, and his expression was a scowl.


    Sahshir kneeled before him. He wondered if Tuor would allow what he requested. "They are defeated, Master Tuor."


    Tuor looked up, eyes opening, and a slight smile crossed his lips. "Excellent. You have advanced much in the time you have been under my tutelage. Your skill has increased exponentially. A gift of our bloodline, I expect.


    "But I can sense you are nervous. Your posture and breathing change informs me that you have come to ask something of me.


    "What is it?


    "I have been gone from my village for six months," said Sahshir. "Much may happen in that time. I desire to return there and ensure that all is going well."


    "Is it?" asked Tuor.


    "I also desire to settle matters with Asim," said Sahshir.


    "An admirable resolve," said Tuor. "However, to slaughter him and his men would be most unwise. You have my permission to humble him and his men. But none of them will die by your hand if you wish to remain my student."


    "Why?" asked Sahshir, resentment in his tone.


    "You have neither the time nor experience to administer the kingdom you seek to reclaim," said Tuor. "It would be better if you left the one who has been minding those affairs alive for the time being. A civil war would be most unfortunate. Are these terms acceptable?"


    "They are," said Sahshir. He could wait.


    Tuor nodded. "Then you have my blessing, of course. Go, and take as much time as you need. Within reason, of course."


    Sahshir nodded and rose. He departed the sanctum and quickly made his way through the fortress. As he began to descend the paths where spring was blooming. He halted and looked to the shadows where Nayasha was sitting in a tree.


    "You are going, then?" said Nayasha.


    "I am," said Sahshir.


    "Would you like me to escort you?" asked Nayasha.


    "No," said Sahshir.


    "As you prefer," said Nayasha. Then she departed.


    The journey back to his village took days and led him through several areas with less life. Several times, he would look west and see the Kalthakian wastes. The vast desert created in the War of the Gods ages ago stretched outward. Distantly, the moans of the dead could be heard at night.


    Soon, the trees gave way to fertile grounds. He saw farmers tending their fields. When they saw him, they greeted him with enthusiasm. A reminder of Asim''s presence. He''d become popular since he took power as regent, of course.


    As he reached the town of Khasina, Sahshir reflected that the town was becoming too humble a word. It had grown greatly since the days when Sahshir''s namesake lived. The original Abdul Sahshir had settled his clans in this place. Fighting many wars, he married a Dinisian Princess. Tents had become huts, and huts had become houses.


    Now, it stood surrounded by high walls of red stone. Armed guards patrolled the walls with spears and shields. Sahshir drew out the rope, a grapple he had always been trained to carry, and hurled it up to the crenelations. Scaling up, he slipped past and made his way down into the city. He could have done the same within the rope, but this took less work.


    Neither the guards nor the city watch saw him.


    Sahshir made his way through the market. As he did, he observed the people going about their business. Then there was a crash. He saw several Asim''s men casting down a table of goods as a merchant cowered.


    "How dare you try to cheat me?!" snarled the man.


    "Sir," said the merchant, "the price has become higher because of a lack of supply-"


    The guard kicked the merchant. "Don''t talk back to the warriors of Lord Asim! Or you''ll regret it!" Sahshir noted the anger of the crowds. They were afraid, but they were also furious. They would remember this.


    "Damn mercenaries," muttered a man. "They''re always throwing their weight around. Did you ever hear what happened to Abdul Sahshir?"


    "No," said another, "he just up and vanished. We''ll probably never hear from him again." sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You may," said Sahshir as he emerged.


    The two men looked up in surprise. "Prince Sahshir, we... we did not expect you."


    "I am not here as a Prince," said Sahshir. "I have returned to set things right. However, I have been forbidden from killing Asim or any of his men. He does not want there to be a civil war."


    "Well, if you can manage that, we''ll be very happy men." said the merchant. "Ever since you left, things have only gotten worse. There are rumors that Asim means to make himself king. And his thugs do displays of dominance like that all the time."


    "What was the reason for that attack?" asked Sahshir.


    "Asreth made some choice comments about Asim''s rule," said the man. "He said over cups that the charges would never have happened in King Aresh''s day."


    "I see," said Sahshir. "What is your name?"


    "I am Mohas," said the first man, "and this is Bangdel."


    "Very well," said Sahshir. "I want you to get me a list of everyone you can think of who has suffered at the hands of these thugs. Do so, and make a list accurate, and you will earn my sincere gratitude.


    "And say nothing of my presence."


    They nodded. "It will be as you say, my prince," said Mohas.


    "And if either of you betrays my presence," Sahshir paused, "I am bound not to kill Asim or his men. You are neither. Am I understood?"


    "Yes," said Mohas.


    "Good," said Sahshir. "I will be in touch."


    He faded into the shadows and scaled up the roof before making his way toward the palace. As he did, he contemplated all the different ways he could remove Asim from power without killing him. Some of them were very appealing.


    But he was not here for Asim''s blood. He was still waiting.


    Eventually, he reached the palace. The gates loomed before him, but there was a shrine nearby. The shrine where the Blade of Chaos was stored. He took a side trip them, making his way in. And there she was.


    Kushina was sweeping the leaves from the shrine. The dark-haired priestess held a broom in one hand. On the top of the broom was a spearhead, largely symbolic. When they were children, he''d always made a game of trying to sneak up on her. He''d never succeeded, however. On a whim, he turned from his mission and crept toward her from behind. Approaching, he raised a hand to touch her shoulder.


    "Don''t even think about it, Abdul," said Kushina. "Where have you been? You said you''d visit."


    Sahshir remained silent for a moment. "Tuor did not permit me to return."


    "Of course he didn''t," said Kushina. "Well, come inside. I''ll make some tea."

 Chapter Five: Succession and Tea

    The tea was excellent, as was usual. Kushina used the right mix of herbs so that it woke one and soothed the nerves just by the aroma. The presence of lavender on one side in boiling water soothed the nerves. As they kneeled within the shrine''s great hall, Kushina brought her tea to her lips and sipped it. Sahshir allowed his mask to fall and swallowed it, careful not to look at his reflection.


    After a moment, she set down her cup and smiled. It was a stern, controlled smile as she usually did. Kushina had never been one for open displays of emotion. "I must admit, I''m surprised you made it back into the city without anyone knowing. I suppose Tuor did well by you in training."


    "He did," said Sahshir.


    There was further silence as she seemed to contemplate her response. "I''m sorry about what Asim did," said Kushina. "I''m afraid that one of his spies overheard my conversation with Tuor. I believe he became afraid of this very thing."


    "He should fear me," said Sahshir. He brought up one gloved hand and looked at it. How long until the skin beneath it withered away?


    "Are you here to kill him?" asked Kushina. "To stand on your rights and cut him down?"


    "I have been forbidden from ending his life or the lives of any of his subordinates," said Sahshir. Why? Why should Tuor insist on that?


    "So then you are looking for a means to remove him from power. All while making him wish you could have killed him," guessed Kushina.


    "I may not be," said Sahshir.


    "I know you, Sahshir," said Kashina with a laugh. "You have a vengeful streak a mile wide. You''ve never forgiven Sushaki, even though he only did his duty. But, unfortunately, there are better times for you to act. If you move against him, there may be a kin slaying.


    "And the armies of Dinis are moving."


    "Armies?" asked Sahshir, raising an eyebrow beneath his face. "You mean the legions? Or one of their vassals?" S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The legions," said Kushina, shaking her head with closed eyes. "I spoke with the birds. They tell me of vast hosts of legionaries marching toward Zigilus. That is just over the border. Using the airships of Zigilus, they could move very quickly to our doorstep."


    "The airships fail when they go too far, however," said Sahshir, remembering what he had learned in his youth. "They cannot go far beyond the source of demonic energy."


    "True," said Kushina. "But it gives them a unique capability to move within that area. This is the first time anyone has managed to win a battle against the defenders of that place. Or have you forgotten your grandfather?


    "He was a great leader of men who had won many battles. Decades ago, at the zenith of his power, he boasted that he would seize Dinis and quench the flow of monsters. He led a great host. But even as his armies met Garacel''s, the airships came from above. The Battlelusters of Zigilus fell upon them, and he was routed. Without Asim covering the retreat, our armies would have been annihilated.


    "We owe him an outstanding debt.


    "Even so, it was the worst defeat we ever suffered. That day, the territory of Zigilus expanded by ten miles, and now they are very near our towns. King Aresh spent most of his time leading the recovery from that disaster. And we have only just stabilized. The western Kalthakians under King Belosh look down on us scornfully.


    "It is written-"


    "''The fool seeks battle on the demon''s own ground,''" Sahshir finished for her. "I know the texts."


    Priestess Yuna had drilled the matter into him for years and years. He looked on those earlier days with some fondness.


    Then the door opened. A young, black-haired girl rushed in. She was clutching her broom. "Big sister, big sister!"


    "Sczhara," said Sahshir. "You''ve grown." So what did this nuisance want? He wasn''t in the mood for pretending to be nice to her.


    Schzara halted. "Sahshir, I haven''t seen you in months and months. Where did you go?"


    "Elsewhere," said Sahshir. With luck, she wouldn''t press the matter.


    Why did this girl insist on bothering him whenever he came here?


    Kushina stood quickly. "Schzara, how is the sweeping coming?"


    "Really well," said Schzara. "I cleaned the entire terrace myself and everything. So all my chores are completely done."


    "Well then," said Kushina, "why don''t you go find some other children and play?"


    "I don''t like them," said Schzara. "They say you''re just a placeholder."


    "Then find some of the others," said Kushina. "I''ve trained you to sense people. Use that power to find a lifeforce you like."


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    Schzara nodded before turning to leave. As she left, Sahshir did not breathe a sigh of relief. He wished he could have. Now, he ought to make polite conversation, hadn''t he? "...How does the shrine fair?"


    Kushina sighed. "The Blade of Chaos has been acting up. More than usual, I mean. There will be pulses of energy from it that strain the boundaries. Then, I have to get up in the middle of the night to reign it in. It''s very frustrating.


    "I suspect that it may be sewing the seeds of Chaos. The spirit of Typhos works through it and seeks to start a battle."


    "It is causing an invasion?" asked Sahshir.


    "The invasion may be unrelated," said Kushina. "Whatever the case, Asim has been working to make the place as secure as possible.


    "All this started a few months ago, after the meeting."


    "Between you and Father?" guessed Sahshir, remembering the note and the assassination attempt.


    "Yes, that one," said Kushina. "Somehow, Asim learned what was said and became afraid you would usurp him."


    "Why?" asked Sahshir.


    "It wasn''t just the training," said Kushina. "That alone could be merely a way to get you out. But I... well, I was angry with Tuor. And he was wearing the Sword of Order, which traditionally goes to the King of Eastern Kalthak. It was a gift from Baltoth, even if it was delivered by Tuor.


    "He technically had the right to it.


    "But, I demanded he gives it up and cedes it to you." She stood and made her way over to the wall. Sliding aside a secret panel, she drew out the Sword of Order. It was a simple weapon with no ornate decorations. But the design was elegant, and Sahshir felt a chill down his back as she drew it.


    Kushina kneeled and offered the blade to him, holding it with a practiced grace. Sahshir wondered if she had rehearsed for this moment. Often, she had done for important matters when they were young. He remembered her and Sushaki going after formalities time and again. That had been before Kushina''s parents were taken by the plague. Before Sushaki betrayed him. Had those been better times? Or only a lie?


    Kushina was not a lie. Sahshir was sure of that. As for that wretch Sushaki, he would be dealt with in due time. "''In the beginning, there was only Chaos and the pretender Valranor. Then came Baltoth, the Inexorable Lord of Pride. He cast down the pretender and brought Order. He drove out the scheming Dust Elves and built a mighty empire. And he named it Calisha, after the one he loved most of all.''"


    "The first words of the Book of Baltoth," said Sahshir. He hesitated to take it in hand.


    "Yes," said Kushina. "Before the darkness came. Before the God of Chaos was made manifest.


    "The Blade of Order is yours."


    Sahshir remained silent and still for only a moment. Was he truly ready? It did not matter. He took it and admired the way the light gleamed off it.


    Kushina sighed. "It was taken from the body of Valranor long ago. And it is awarded to one of his descendants in Kalthak with each generation. So now it is yours."


    "Why do you give this to me?" asked Sahshir.


    "As I said, the Blade of Chaos is showing signs of becoming active," said Kushina. As if that explained everything.


    "So it has been done many times," said Sahshir, lowering the blade. "The true reason?" He very much doubted that this was a gift without attachments. For no gift was without a price of sorts.


    "...Tuor wanted to use it," said Kushina.


    Sahshir nearly dropped his blade. He had to lean forward to catch it in hand. "What?"


    "Wait, that isn''t fair," said Kushina. "He wanted to look into the possibility of using the Blade of Chaos. He argued that Chaos merely reflects Order and that both used in balance result in true power." She shrugged. "I wouldn''t have any of it. My task is to ensure the blade remains safe here."


    "That was wise," said Sahshir. He looked back to the blade and gripped it in his two hands. Then, standing, he tested the weight. "My father did not have the decency to give it to me with his own hands."


    "That isn''t fair, Sahshir," said Kushina. "Tuor is the Disciple of Baltoth. By his nature, he must remain objective. If he showed great favor to you because of who he was, it could be... counterproductive."


    "And so he has left the kingdom in the care of Asim," said Sahshir.


    "Asim is a but a conceited caretaker," said Kushina. Sahshir thought this assessment to be reckless and dangerous. Asim was a deadly warrior and a great leader of men in his own way. What he lacked in political flair, he made up for in lethality. "You will lead this village one day. And if he interferes, it will be worse for him." She stood up. "In any case, you should not speak to any of our concerns. Aside from myself, very few know the Blade of Chaos is even manifesting."


    "Who else?" asked Sahshir.


    "You and Tuor," said Kushina. "Perhaps some of those he most trusts."


    There was a sharp breath. Sahshir arose with the Blade of Order in hand and pulled aside the door. Schzara stumbled forward to fall on her knees. Sahshir lowered his blade. "You were listening in?" How had she done so with neither noticing? Schazara learned the art of quiet footwork well. Sahshir knew Kushina had also ordered her to be trained with bow, arrow, and spear. That, as well as many other rituals.


    All those things Kushina was a master of. Yet Sahshir had always thought they needed to fit Schazara as well as Kushina.


    "I didn''t mean to," said Schazara, halting. "I just forgot something, came back, and got interested and... " She trailed off, looking afraid.


    Kushina took Sahshir by the shoulder. "Wait. Schzara, what have I told you about eavesdropping?"


    "I just, um..." began Schzara.


    Kushina kneeled down before her with a sudden bout of gentleness upon her. She set a hand on each of her shoulders and brought her close so they were pressed together. "Listen to me very carefully, Schzara. You must tell no one what happened here. Forget you heard anything."


    Schzara nodded. "Yes, big sister."


    Sahshir sheathed the Sword of Order and hooked it to his belt. As he did, he wondered the last time he had been held in such a fashion. Never seemed to be the answer, for such outward displays of affection ill became a man. Sushaki had been born like that by Asim and his Mother, and Sahshir had envied him. Then he walked toward the door. Kushina looked up at him. "Where are you going?"


    "I must inform Master Tuor I will take a leave of absence from his service," said Sahshir. "This kingdom will need me."


    "I recommend you send a letter," said Kushina. "I have runners I can trust. You should stay here for a time?"


    "Won''t Asim act against me?" asked Sahshir.


    "Asim is not mad," said Kushina. "He will not harm those under the protection of Baltoth. And so long as you are my guest, you are under his protection."


    Sahshir remained silent. "Very well. I will remain here."


    "Good," said Kushina. "now, why don''t we plan a coup."


    That was typical of her. Sahshir decided settling accounts with Asim was exactly what he needed.

 Chapter Six: The Coming Storm

    Narcissa awoke to find a hand shaking her shoulder. She pulled herself to one side, shielding herself with the covers and letting her hair fall over her shoulders. She must have looked absolutely ravishing in the morning light coming from the sun sphere on her wall. She saw Alkela looking down at her through bleary eyes, dressed for battle and travel. Narcissa sighed. "Give me five more minutes, Alkela."


    Alkela shook her again. Narcissa threw the covers at her and stood up. Alkela had never been one to let someone sleep in or rest easy; she''d always slept first watch on the streets.


    "Fine, fine. I''m up already." She opened the window and peered out into the morning light. The black stone sundial said that mass would be in two hours.


    With a sigh, Narcissa began to dress appropriately. First, she chose some of the more modest garments available. A pair of black pants that clung to her lower legs and a tight shirt that bared her midriff. She supposed she should wear something skimpier when going to mass but screw it.


    They eat breakfast in silence. From there, Narcissa made her way to the armory. There, she drew the giant axe off the wall and entered the courtyard to train. Alkela did the same with her spiked gauntlets.


    "Why do you like those gauntlets so much?" asked Narcissa, spinning the axe and practicing her stance. "It isn''t as though they have any reach."


    Alkela said nothing, of course.


    The training they had gone through over the past two years had seemed easy, even when worked to the bone. However, Narcissa was already moving up to greater levels of proficiency. She remembered techniques she had already learned rather than learning them from scratch. Everything clicked into place quickly.


    Illaryus said that they must have been warriors in another life. Narcissa wondered about that. Was it another life? Supposedly, the memories of previous lives helped you later on. Affected you from beyond your grave.


    Today Narcissa swung her blade quickly, trying the more progressive stances. And then she accidentally swung near a wall. The axe''s edge crashed against the wall and was jarred from her hands. A giant crack appeared in the wall, and some stones fell.


    Narcissa flinched and quickly picked up the axe. She was afraid the wall would fall in entirely like last time. Fortunately, she''s managed to pull back at the last minute. Unfortunately, Illaryus entered the courtyard, clapping.


    "Well, that will have the stonemasons working tonight," said Illaryus. "I have told you to be careful when wielding those."


    "I''m sorry, Master Illaryus," said Narcissa. "I''m just... distracted, is all."


    "About what?" asked Illaryus.


    "These powers..." said Narcissa, feeling a bit awkward. How did someone as ugly as Ilaryus survive in Zigilus anyway? He didn''t seem like anyone''s type. It was probably pure combat skill. "I''ve sparred against many of the other Bloodlusters and beaten them. I''m killed raishans by the dozens, and it all comes so quickly.


    "But I''ve only been doing this for six months. This seems like something more than just a memory from a past life. I remember the lessons on anatomy. My muscles shouldn''t have adapted so quickly."


    "It probably is something more," admitted Illaryus. "There is a demonic will working through you both. Ensuring your body and spirit become what you need to be far more quickly than is typical.


    "When a power, demonic or otherwise, puts that kind of effort in, it is for a purpose."


    "What kind of purpose?" asked Narcissa.


    "Perhaps they wish you to be in a state where you are ready for some great task," said Illaryus. "Or perhaps you are acting as a vessel."


    "A vessel?" asked Narcissa. "What do you mean?"


    "There have been cases when powerful demons possess mortals of their own bloodline." said Illaryus, "Usually, they must be specially prepared. This, however, is an unparalleled honor, and I doubt Her Radiance has any interest in the matter."


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Narcissa, self-conscious as she adjusted her hair. Why shouldn''t she be worthy of possession?


    "It merely isn''t her Radiance''s style," said Illaryus. "She prefers the indirect approach to all things. To work through others, not lead directly.


    "In any case, the service will soon begin. Therefore, you should make yourselves presentable."


    Narcissa nodded.


    Presentable meant bathing, of course, and then wearing more formal clothes. Narcissa and Alkela were high-ranking now, which meant showing a lot of skin. Narcissa''s outfit consisted of little more than a black brassiere. That and a long skirt that was split on both thighs. It was designed to draw attention to their superior frames.


    "-many people question the purpose of pain and hardship." the High Priest was saying. "Why is it that the farmer must plow fields before the harvest. Or the smith works the metal before creating it. The end result of both things is the pleasure of creation.


    "Yet why must such effort be made?


    "The effort one puts into achieving delight gives the delight meaning. Without working to cultivate the fields, the banquet would have no meaning. That is the paradox of pleasure, as Her Radiance-"


    Narcissa looked away to admire the architecture of the Sanctum of Zigildrazia. Use, elaborate arches, and grand pillars were everywhere. She looked to Alkela, who looked just as bored as she did. She was resting her head on one arm.


    "You know, I learned a strange thing from Garacel yesterday," said Narcissa. "He told me that Zigilus wasn''t designed based on Dinis architecture. Instead, it was based on the stonework of a place far to the west called Harlenor.


    "See, they had this great King, Anoa the Builder, or Anoa III. He made all kinds of great fortifications. And also constructed a city. Zigildrazia was trying to establish herself there at the time. She liked the look of his cathedrals so much she adapted it for her own."


    Alkela looked at her through lidded eyes. Narcissa leaned back.


    "Well, that''s what I read, anyway," said Narcissa. "I also heard they don''t have pole dancing at the end of sermons. Demonic Archons know how they keep anyone going to mass."


    Alkela glared at her.


    "What?" whispered Narcissa. "This is boring." She looked up at the masses and observed the dancers begin their routine. Unfortunately, the pole dancers weren''t very good, not putting enough lust into it. It was just a job to them.


    The dancers were pretty, not that it was to their credit. Ugly children were ritually sacrificed. But they were sloppy in how they swung themselves around the pole. In other circumstances, Narcissa could have been a performer of these rites. She knew the quality when she saw it. This wasn''t it. Probably someone''s cousin or something.


    "Let''s get out of here," said Narcissa. "It isn''t anything we haven''t heard a thousand times." She slipped out of the bench while everyone else was gawking. Alkela followed.


    They made it as far as the outer hall before they rounded a corner and found Illaryus waiting for them. His arms were crossed, and he looked at them disapprovingly. "Narcissa, Alkela, I don''t suppose you could not slip out during the mass?"


    Alkela pointed at Narcissa as if to say it was all her fault. Traitor.


    "I''m sorry," said Narcissa, "I was hoping I wouldn''t get caught."


    "The pole ceremony is vitally important in pursuing lust," said Illaryus. "You should at least try to attend it."


    "Fine, I''ll go there the next time," said Narcissa, walking past him. "I''d just rather be hunting raishans than sitting through ceremonies."


    "Most people enjoy them," noted Illaryus.


    "We like to make ourselves useful," said Narcissa.


    Alkela shoved her.


    "...I," amended Narcissa, "I like to make myself useful. And I also like fighting a lot more than watching a dance. Whether it''s by a man or a woman." She halted. Something was at the edge of her senses. A power... "Do you sense that, Illaryus?"


    "I do," said Illaryus. "Go, if you will."


    Narcissa and Alkela quickly retrieved their weapons and donned their battle armor. It concealed more than her formal wear and less than her regular clothes. Her arms and legs were left entirely bare, as was the center of her stomach. It also showed off a lot of cleavage, so she looked perfect, as usual. Alkela''s was much the same, except with several bangles on her arms and legs. Though obviously Alkela looked slightly less perfect than Narcissa, that was a given.


    Only Zigildrazia was better.


    The two of them made their way through the streets. They were empty. Everyone wise had gone indoors. There must have been a raishan alert. Narcissa kept her axe close. She wished someone was around to see her; she probably looked very good.


    As they entered a square, they circled around a huge fountain. The flowing of water could not distract from the presence here. The jangling of wind chimes could not conceal it. They jangled louder and louder.


    "It''s coming from here, but it hasn''t entered the mortal plane yet," said Narcissa.


    And then the disruption of the world came into full view. A massive serpent with the head of a beetle surged into contention. Limbs tipped with scythes slashed at Narcissa. She stepped back, swung around her axe, and caved in the skull.


    Even as she did, more of them emerged. She saw Alkela dodging back and forth, her arms and legs smashing through the creatures. Narcissa moved aside as gobs of acid shot toward her and landed in the fountain. The water foamed and bubbled over as she cleaved the raishans responsible in half.


    And yet, there were still more of them coming.


    On and on, they came, one after another, and no matter how many Narcissa cleaved down, there were always more. Finally, Alkela ripped them to shreds, only to find more. Where were the guards? How had so many of the creatures appeared here?


    The ground was littered with bodies. And Narcissa loved it. She loved how the blood flew into the air as she cleaved their skulls! She loved how they screamed when she cut them in half! She loved everything about it! Especially the way the blood felt as it drenched her form. Never before had she felt so alive except when doing this!


    Then there was a war cry. A huge giant leaped off the rooftop and landed on the cobblestones. He was clad in heavy armor and moved forward, dozens of flaming whips surrounding his wrist. More guards came from the surrounding regions. Soon the raishans around them were slaughtered so much for fun. The giant lumbered up to them.


    "Grakus," said Narcissa. "Where were you?"


    "Waiting," said Grakus without apology. "The beasts were gathering here. If I''d headed them off, they would have stopped gathering. Better to destroy the lot in exchange for a few peasants than let them ravage the countryside for weeks."


    That made sense. Narcissa knew he had orders and didn''t want to be inconsiderate. "Sorry, I was trying to help."


    "There were far more of these lately than expected," said Grakus, pleased. "Things are advancing well?"


    "What thing?" asked Narcissa.


    "My plan to resurrect Typhos. I''m using the souls of raishans to create the bloodshed necessary to fuel her rebirth," said Grakus. "I believe I told you about this once before."


    "Oh right, that plan," said Narcissa. Grakus worshipped a dead god. She didn''t understand, but she wasn''t inclined to judge. "So, how is it going?"


    "Very well, as I said," said Grakus. "You see, the cosmic scale changes from order to chaos every so often. Good to evil. It has shifted to chaos recently, and plans are already in motion to ensure this opportunity is used."


    "Why weren''t the other opportunities used?" asked Narcissa.


    "Zeya the Cursed went to great lengths to exterminate the brood of Typhos," said Grakus. "We were forced into hiding or wiped out. And until now, whenever the tides of chaos rose again, we were too weak to act.


    "Now, however-"


    "I believe you''ve said enough, Grakus," said Garacel''s voice.


    Narcissa turned to see Garacel walking toward them from another street. His blade was in his hand and covered in blood. Bringing up his red cloak, he wiped it from the sword, then sheathed it. "I have slaughtered several hundred of the beasts in the fields around the city. Their spirits are now contained."


    "Master Garacel," said Narcissa.


    "I must congratulate the both of you," said Garacel. "You are both proving worth the time invested in your training."


    "Thank you, Master," said Narcissa.


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    "I note the both of you fight with great enthusiasm," said Garacel.


    "Yes," said Narcissa. "I... when I''m killing something, the sensation is addicting. I don''t know why. I remember the first time I killed a raishan. I hit it with my axe, and the blood spewed all over me; I... I actually wanted to drink it.


    "Is that normal?"


    "Perfectly," said Garacel. "You are a Bloodluster, after all. Zigildrazia is among the greatest warriors of the Seven Demonic Archons. So it is natural that you would inherit some of her nature. Only Fortenex is stronger."


    "Where does Typhos stand in the hierarchy?" asked Narcissa. She wanted to know more about what Grakul had been talking about. Though she might have already heard the answer and forgotten it.


    "She is Typhos," said Grakul, as if that explained everything. "The Mother of all Monsters, the Demonic Archon of Gluttony. And the Goddess of Chaos."


    "That''s a lot of domains," noted Narcissa.


    "Yes, well, there is a great deal of overlap between the three of them," said Garacel. "And Typhos was always somewhat unique among the creatures of the universe. She never truly fit into any of the three pantheons.


    "She was too savage and destruction for the holy. Too unnatural for the spirit world. And lacked the malice necessary to work under Diabolus. Though that is less of an issue now."


    "If she was so powerful, how could Zeya and Elranor kill her?" asked Narcissa.


    "''Kill'' may be too strong a word," said Grakul. "The powers of her spirit were trapped deep within the earth, far to the west, in a land called Khasmir. And her body was burned. Only the heart remains, and it still beats deep within Zigildrazia''s palace."


    "But that is none of your concern," said Garacel. "Come, we have other business."


    He led them away. As they walked, Narcissa walked to stand next to Garacel. "Master Garacel, I''d like to ask you something."


    "Then ask," said Garacel.


    "Well, aside from Illaryus, all the servants of Zigildrazia are beautiful," said Narcissa. "Seductive. A spirit in a suit of armor seems a bit out of place."


    "It is," said Garacel. "I do not have my uttermost source in Zigildrazia. Long ago, I was the God of Love. I served the god of order, Valranor. When Baltoth overthrew him, I opposed Baltoth and fought against him in a series of wars. This was around the time Zeya was fighting Typhos. I believe it was..." He turned and pointed upwards toward the great Mount Lightstike. It was charred black, except for the greenish top. "Right there. Yes. Zeya plunged a mountaintop through her stomach. You can still see the dried blood to this day. Where was I?"


    "A war with Baltoth?" said Narcissa.


    "Ah, yes, that," said Garacel. "Well, Baltoth has always been a spiteful monster. He deluded himself that I had turned one of his many lovers against him."


    Narcissa paused. "Who was she?"


    "A manifestation of an ancient elven god, lost to history," said Garacel. "Her true name was Dreamora, but he called her by another name. A translation of sorts; I can''t remember it. Baltoth took this personally and destroyed my domain utterly through underhanded tactics. I made a final stand and challenged him to single combat.


    "He simply sent his armies after me. I remember the shining armor of my warriors as we made our stand. How we drove the enemy before us. Steel fell on steel, and brave men fought for what they believed. Brothers in arms gave their lives for men they''d never known.


    "I remember when the battle began, it was in a clear field with the morning sun looking down. The grass was dripping from the dew.


    "By the end, my enemies lay dead by the thousands, scattered among my fellows. The night was falling, and the moon shone, beautiful and white, unmarred by the carnage below. And I alone was unconquered. It was the moment of my life.


    "Had I died then, it should have been a good death."


    "Are you sure you were a Love God?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes," said Garacel. "I aided people in finding the right match all the time. But I also loved battle. So few things made me feel more alive than the blood rushing through my veins as I fought a worthy opponent. And there were so few of them.


    "In any case, it was not death that awaited me. I was... maimed, my body destroyed.


    "My spirit was trapped within an idol, and I was cast down into the midst of a mine shaft. There, I languished for untold centuries. Perhaps even millennia. The time is... unclear to me.


    "My domain of love was taken by one of Baltoth''s children, who sought rulership of these lands. When she failed, Zigildrazia took her place as the dominant power. She created the domain of Dinis, though some say it was forged by Safara."


    "But how did you end up serving her?" asked Narcissa.


    "She found me powerless and screaming within the mine," said Garacel. "She inserted my spirit into the armor and gave me a chance to serve her. I have done so since."


    "How long ago was this?" asked Narcissa.


    "I do not know," admitted Garacel. "I do not sleep or eat. Nor do I see the day or night. I sense with my will. The passing of a year is no different to me than the passing of a day."


    "So, are you trying to restore your old self?" asked Narcissa.


    "Zigildrazia has promised that should I serve her faithfully, she will restore me." said Garacel, "However, it is a complicated matter. You see, my reputation as her Seeker and the power of those I have killed should have restored me. Unfortunately, the armor still keeps me imprisoned. And until I am bested, killed in battle, I can never take on my true form."


    "Then why not just destroy yourself?" asked Narcissa. "Or can''t you do that?"


    "Suicide is a coward''s escape," said Garacel. "I never understood what the people of Namina saw it. Nevertheless, I shall never give up my spirit so long as I can fight on. I will fight on against a thousand opponents.


    "Until I have been slain by one worthy of the honor. Which may not be long, depending on how the recent plans turn out." He paused. "There is also my professional pride to consider."


    "What do you mean?" asked Narcissa.


    "I am bound to Zigildrazia''s will so long as I am within this armor," said Garacel. "That was part of our contract. So ending my existence within the armor would not technically be a breach of contract. But it would be against the spirit of the deal.


    "When one makes a contract, one ought to keep it." His helmet turned to the sky. "Still, once I am restored, I have another task to perform."


    "What''s that?" asked Narcissa.


    "The destruction of Baltoth and all he represents," said Garacel. "That day may come soon. And you both may greatly help us in that matter."


    "Glad to help," said Narcissa.


    And then, as they reached the gates of the Sanctum, Dakan appeared. He adjusted his hat. "Good evening, Garacel."


    "Dakan, what is it now?" said Garacel.


    "I thought you may wish to know of a recent opportunity that has come our way," said Dakan, drawing out a scroll. Was he trying to sound like a snake? "The details are within this scroll."


    Garacel unrolled it, being careful not to tear the paper. He read it carefully. "...So, our mutual friend has made his move, has he?"


    "Yes," said Dakan. "He may be trustworthy."


    "Don''t be a fool, Dakan," said Garacel. "He knows our peril. The Emperor has been entertaining emissaries from many lands. And among them are priests of Elranor."


    "What shall we do, then?" asked Dakan.


    "This may be a trap. But we do not have time to wait," said Garacel. "The Emperor is making his move as we speak. We must act before it is complete.


    "We will take the bait. And the trap shall strike nothing but air. This will, the mouse escape the metal jaws and feast upon the cheese. So the house owner will be frustrated, and all his efforts will be in vain."


    "Unless the cheese is poisoned," noted Narcissa.


    "You needn''t fear," said Garacel. "For the mouse has long foreseen such an action and taken steps to become immune to all poisons that-" He paused. "This metaphor has gotten somewhat out of hand.


    "Dakan, get our forces together. We''ll go to the Kingdom of Khasina, steal the Blade of Chaos, and kill everyone. You can''t spring a trap if you''re dead."


    Narcissa blinked. "You mean that the Kalthakian Kingdom which tried to invade us? The one Illaryus defeated singlehanded?"


    "The same," said Garacel. "Though the stories exaggerate. Narcissa Alkela, you should prepare yourselves for a journey. We''ll be going into Calisha soon.


    "Dakan, would you get them decent armor?"


    "What''s wrong with this?" asked Narcissa.


    Garacel turned to her. "Calisha is not as attuned to hell, so such an outfit would kill you quickly."


    "What?" said Narcissa. "But it bears my midriff and shows off cleavage. My legs are completely exposed."


    "Yes," said Garacel. "That is the problem. In the domain of Zigildrazia, that kind of outfit is better armor. In Calisha, it is... not."


    Narcissa nodded. "Right. Come on, Alkela."


    "And Narcissi," said Garacel.


    "Yes?" asked Narcissa.


    "Clean the blood off yourself," said Garacel.


    Narcissa nodded.


    The armor Narcissa was expected to wear was heavy, bulky, and covered her entire body. She could hardly see outside the helmet and pulled it off in frustration. Then, looking at herself in a mirror, she saw it had messed up her hair.


    What kind of armor messed up how you looked?


    "So what do you think about all this, Alkela?" asked Narcissa, putting on a brave face. "Scared?"


    Alkela shook her head, testing the weight of a mace. Narcissa sighed. "No, didn''t think so. I can''t believe we''re heading out into Calisha. A few months ago, I figured we''d never see outside of this city."


    Alkela swung the mace, and it nearly took Narcissa''s head off. "Watch where you swing that!" Alkela pulled it back apologetically.


    At that moment, Dakan appeared from the shadows. How did he do that? "How are you ladies adjusting to your armor?"


    "Quite well," lied Narcissa. "So, what exactly do you do anyway?"


    "I trade information, of course," said Dakan. "My purpose is to ensure everyone knows what they need. For a price."


    "Well then, could you make sure I know why this armor is so bulky?" asked Narcissa. "How is anyone supposed to know if I''m beautiful."


    "The bulk is the point," said Dakan. "An appeal to lust is a powerful thing within Dinis. However, in the world beyond, it is not. They are not quite so... concerned with appearances."


    "Yeah, I remember what Garacel said," said Narcissa. "It''s still horribly heavy."


    "I gather the knights of Harlenor prefer it that way," said Dakan.


    "Harlenor?" said Narcissa. "Garacel told me it made the construction this Sanctum was based on. It''s uh... it''s located... it''ll come to me."


    "It is a savage land to the far west," said Dakan. "They serve the God Triumvirate. The God of Healing, Elranor, is the head of their pantheon. Laeivan, Lady of the Wilds, and Barden, Lord of Civilization, are his compatriots.


    "Still, I gather Her Radiance is hoping to establish colonies there. So it must not be entirely barbaric."


    "How are we supposed to colonize a far-off place?" asked Narcissa.


    "Conversion, of course," said Dakan. "Direct conquest is such a bother. What do you think of your look?"


    Narcissa put the helm back on and looked at herself. She looked like a smaller version of Garacel with an axe. "... It''s a bit masculine. But I like it. What do you think, Alkela?"


    Alkela looked at the mace in her hand. Then she tossed it at the mirror. Narcissa caught it in midflight, laughing. "It isn''t that bad."


    "Bad or not, we''ll need to go soon," said Dakan. "My sources tell me that two legions have been dispatched by the Emperor of Dinis."


    "The Emperor?" asked Narcissa. "Why would he send troops here, anyway? Zigildrazia was given Zigilus by his ancestor. It is promised to her forever."


    "I''m afraid mortals are prone to welch on their promises a few generations in," said Dakan. "When they say ''forever,'' they mean ''until my descendants decide it is no longer convenient.''"


    "Aren''t you mortal?" asked Narcissa. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Only partially," said Dakan. "The blood of Neseriah, the Bat God, runs strong through my veins. And I am no stranger to self-deprecation." He reached forward as if to touch her.


    Narcissa flinched away. "How could we repel them? The legions are said to be invincible."


    "Many things are said to be one thing and are another," said Dakan. "But that is the thrust of this mission, if you know what I mean."

 Chapter Seven: Lepers Return

    Sahshir had spent the last few days gathering information. He learned of people who had been hurt. He found that almost all of them were merchants who needed to cooperate. The ordinary people were largely left in peace.


    Asim was quite popular among them. Several of whom Asim had ruined had seen their wealth given to the poor. He saw now why Tuor had forbidden him from killing Asim. It would be a bad start.


    Now, he was meditating.


    He often did so when he could not sleep and had been meditating from the late hours. Now, the hours had become early, and he was still sitting in his room, his eyes shut and his hands clenched.


    He wondered how many weary travelers this shrine of Baltoth had gotten. There are none today, but Sahshir remembers when he was a boy. In those days, Aresh had not been supplanted by Tuor. Often, far-off merchants would shelter here if they had no outside connections.


    To harm a guest in Baltoth''s house was an unforgivable crime. For if travelers could not be safe in the house of the gods, where could they be safe?


    And yet he felt ill at ease.


    He sensed them now, gathering outside the gates of the shrine. Armed men, ready for war. They were many, and their life force belonged to demanding men. Men who had killed before and would again. Warriors.


    But they did not desire blood. Or at least not a battle.


    "Sahshir, there is a problem," said Kushina.


    Sahshir arose, startled, hand falling to his sword as he saw her. Somehow, she had slipped beneath his perceptions like always. How did she do that? "What is it?"


    "Asim has learned of your presence somehow," said Kushina. "His troops are outside the shrine as we speak."


    "I am aware," said Sahshir.


    "And you''re still here?" asked Kushina in surprise.


    Sahshir raised his sword. "I will defeat Asim and his men singlehanded should they enter this place."


    Kushina sighed. "You''re confidence inspires me. But I''d rather have a better plan than that."


    "Very well," said Sahshir. "I will enter the palace and kill Asim and his extended family."


    "Do you have another better plan?" asked Kushina.


    "No," admitted Sahshir. He was forbidden from killing Asim. But surely Tuor would understand if it was him or Sahshir.


    "Priestess Kushina!" came a call. "We know you are within. Come out and speak to us at once."


    Kushina grasped her staff from the wall and walked out. Sahshir trailed behind in the shadows. He watched from the doorway as Kushina approached the gates. In front of them stood Asim, a tall and scarred man. He had narrow eyes that marked the blood of Namina that flowed through him, and his skin was lighter. In his hand was a sheathed sword, a scimitar rather than a katana. A symbol of his contempt for the ways of Namina.


    "Lord Asim, you have surrounded a shrine of Baltoth," said Kushina. "What is the meaning of this?"


    "The meaning is simple," said Asim. "You are harboring my enemies. I will not intrude on sacred ground. But I will not let you protect threats to my dominion."


    "Abdul Sahshir is first in the line of succession," said Kushina. "Your nephew by blood. You are granted only the position of regent. Is this treason?"


    "Sahshir is nothing more than a boy," said Asim. "One whose curse will lead to a line of plague. I will not see one of his kind leading our armies. What example could that set?"


    Sahshir flinched at the mention. His hand was on his sword, but he did not draw it. Still waiting.


    "You do not know that," said Kushina. "And you have no right to usurp him."


    "In the days of my father, we did not concern ourselves with such technicalities," said Asim proudly. "The leader was the strongest of all the warriors. The soldier with the most cunning.


    "Tuor has sought to corrupt this process.


    "I claim my status as king by my right of victory in battle and leadership in war."


    "Are you then prepared to defy the will of Baltoth?" asked Kushina.


    "I have done nothing of the sort," said Asim. "We shall not intrude in his domain. But so long as that boy remains within this shrine, my men will remain without. And there is another matter." He motioned. "Bring forward the girl."


    Schzara was dragged forward. She looked like she had been crying. But now she was only looking terrified. "Sister, I''m sorry, I didn''t-"


    "Silence!" said Asim.


    Kushina''s grip on her staff tightened. "You had the best account for your actions, Regent Asim."


    "You have until noon tomorrow to give the boy up to me," said Asim. "Fail to do so, and I will crucify the girl on a hill. Make your choice."


    Kushina''s eyes narrowed. "I certainly will."


    Then she turned and walked back to the shrine before shutting the door. She looked at him. "Alright, Sahshir, there is a change of plans. Go ahead and murder everyone in Asim''s palace; I don''t care."


    "Thank you," said Sahshir.


    He unsheathed his sword and began to meditate with it over his knees. He waited as the life forces of those in the camp grew gradually complacent. Then, when they were used to the silence, he arose and slipped out of one of the windows.


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    Crawling to the top of the wall, he looked down upon the lookouts.


    "So, did you hear about what happened to that merchant in the square, Akas?" one asked. "Had his wares destroyed? Why did King Asim order that done?"


    "He questioned Asim''s legitimacy," said Akas. "And anyway, he was a merchant. Scum who make their living on others'' labors. Bean counters and cheats the lot of them, right, Sorsuk?" Sorsuk remained silent, and this frustrated Akas. "Warriors earn our keep on the battlefield. Farmers toil on the earth to raise crops. But merchants just play the role of the middleman. They snatch bread from people''s mouths."


    "I wonder how we''d do if all the merchants disappeared?" said Sorsuk.


    "Better," said Akas.


    "Really?" asked Sorsuk doubtfully. "Didn''t you go to the bazaar to buy a seashell necklace for your wife yesterday? Unfortunately, they didn''t make them here."


    "Shut up," said the other.


    Sahshir launched himself from the wall and landed behind them. They turned to him, readying their spears. "Abdul Sahshir-"


    Drawing his sword, he raked it across both their throats. Both their limp forms fell to the ground. Five other men charged at him, blades in hand. He ducked under one and slashed him through the stomach before rolling between others. With two more strokes, he downed another two. Finally, he stabbed his blade back at someone he sensed behind.


    Sahshir felt it drive through another guard''s chest. Drawing out the blade, he turned to parry a flurry of strokes. Then, feeling something sharp pass his cheek, Sahshir flipped backward. On they came, from both sides. Hooking his foot under a spear, Sahshir kicked it into the air and caught it, even as he sheathed his blade.


    Spinning it around, he fended off those who came at him with rapid strikes, returning to the wall. Finally, he was hemmed in. All stabbed at him, but he leaped into the air and landed on the wall before being kicked off. As he landed, he drew his sword and began a flurry of strikes.


    Then he halted, turned, and walked away toward the palace. As he sheathed his blade, he sensed the guards falling to the ground, no longer a threat.


    Sahshir quickly scaled up the walls and past the sight of the guards. He did not want to alert his enemies to his presence. Unfortunately, it was only a matter of time before they learned what had happened at the shrine.


    Still, where was Schzara? He had not seen her among the prisoners?


    Either way, he knew this palace like the back of his hand. He quickly slipped into the inner rooms in secret ways known only to their family. The red and gold walls were comforting to walk amongst again. When he had left, they had seen more threatening anything.


    But now, he was the most dangerous thing within these walls.


    Soon, he made his way onto a balcony. Below, he saw a beautiful courtyard of green, where he and Kushina had played as children. There had been another with them in those days.


    And there he was. Sahshir''s cousin, Sushaki, was as handsome as ever, with a slim frame and well-muscled muscles. Sahshir saw that he had grown out his wavy white hair a great deal since last they had met. He''d always been more handsome than Sahshir, even before the curse took hold.


    But with Sushaki was Asim himself. They were arguing. "Father, this is not wise. Threatening a Priestess of Baltoth could be called heresy. The Western Kalthakians may use it as a pretext."


    "We''ve been over this, Sushaki," said Asim. "The girl is not a priestess. Our actions are not heresy. And if Western Kalthak decides to invade, I will rename their land the Western Wastes. I''ve beaten them before."


    "But what about these merchants you''ve ruined?" asked Sushaki. "They are not powerless. On the contrary, they may well support Sahshir against us, and what we do here could be a rallying point."


    Until now, Sahshir had used the blades wielded by Tuor''s disciplines in training. Not one had died by his hand. Now, he drew the Sword of Order. First, blood would be whet upon it.


    "The merchants will thank Baltoth they are spared and serve the warriors," said Asim.


    "Will they?" asked Sushaki, "Money has more power than you think. It was made by Coinfurth, and he is a god in his own right."


    Sahshir sprang from the balcony, lifting his sword toward Asim''s head. Even as he did, Asim drew his blade and caught the stroke while turning to face him. For a moment, they pitted their strength against each other. "No. They will not."


    Asim shoved him back and took a stance. "...You, how did you get past the guards?"


    "I have learned much in the service of Tuor," said Sahshir. "You will learn that by my blade."


    "The Sword of Order belongs to no man," said Asim. "It is merely entrusted to the worthy. Or the unworthy, as the case may be." He motioned, and out of the shadows emerged dozens of warriors clad in heavy armor. These men were elites. "No matter. Guards, the ones to kill this fool, will be greatly rewarded. Come, son."


    He and Sushaki turned and made their way out as the guards closed ranks behind them.


    "Face me, Asim," said Sahshir.


    But Asim said nothing. And then he was gone. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    For a long moment, Sahshir remained silent. Finally, he took a stance, feeling the trickle of blood down the side of his face. He licked his lips. Now was the time.


    Then, the guards surged forward.


    A storm of blades came at him, but the Sword of Order flashed. They recoiled at the light, and Sahshir drew his other sword. Cleaving through one after another without death, he kept the light in his enemies'' eyes.


    Even so, they parried and thrust, and he found himself hard-pressed to defeat them. Still, at least now, he was only facing them from one direction. He ducked around the supports of the balcony, and a sword sank into it. Coming around, he swung the Sword of Order to shatter an enemy''s blade, then struck him down. Another fell to him, then another.


    He found himself filled with a strange power he could not understand.


    Nothing could stop him.


    And soon, all were defeated. He sensed Asim in the next room. And as he did, the light of the sword faded. Sliding the door aside, he found Asim and Sushaki kneeling in a long hall. The walls were lined with all manner of weapons. Here, Sahshir and Sushaki had trained many times. Asim had his blade before him on his knees. "So, you''ve finally arrived, have you? You surprise me. I thought you would have keeled over dead some time ago. Perhaps you are worthy of my blade. Leper Prince."


    Then he sprang into action. Sahshir threw aside his second blade and met Asim with the Sword of Order. They dueled back and forth, and Sahshir found himself being driven back. Asim was skilled, winning a hundred battles, and Sahshir could hardly keep up.


    Asim turned Sahshir''s blade and brought a leg around. Sahshir spun away and hit a wall. He narrowly ducked in time to avoid being beheaded. Before he could counterattack, Asim was leaping back, taking a stance.


    "I confess, I had doubts about assassinating my family by stealth," said Asim. "I''m pleased you''ve allowed me to do it personally."


    "Traitor," said Sahshir simply.


    He surged forward and forced Asim back with a flurry of strokes. But all too soon, Asim halted his advance and drove him back. Then, spinning his blade, Asim paused some feet away. "Traitor?


    "What have I betrayed? The legacy of my brother? A man who has turned a race of warriors into farmers and thieves?"


    "It was by the will of Baltoth," said Sahshir, taking a stance.


    "Baltoth? The Lord of Order!" scoffed Asim. "You speak as though he was worshipped by our most distant ancestors! He is but a visitor in our domain! Kalthak shall choose its own gods!"


    "He delivered us from the whispers of Safara," said Sahshir. "He brought green to the lands of Kalthak once again. Thus was order brought from the chaos."


    "Green and order?" scoffed Asim. "What is a land of grass and plenty but an excuse for the race to become fat and weak. Weak as the Medi of the West! We are Kalthakian! Our sires were born of blood and death! We survived where the sorcerers of old were consumed by their hubris!"


    "And yet we are also of the blood of Namina, that ancient civilization," said Sahshir. "When their land was destroyed, our people mixed and became one."


    "A corruption we have yet to rid ourselves of," said Asim as they began to circle one another. "It was Namina who taught us sorcery! Namina, who sewed the seeds of destruction! Seeds that saw the land blighted and our people scattered!"


    "What is a land of grass and plenty but an excuse for the race to become fat and weak?" asked Sahshir.


    "You throw my own words back at me," scoffed Asim. "Do you comprehend them?"


    "I understand more than you know," said Sahshir. "What purpose does the warrior caste have save to defend? To ensure that the farmer may plow his fields in peace? To ensure the merchant may sell his wares without fear of thugs destroying them? To ensure the priests may commune with the gods without defending against sacrilege?"


    "We were made to fight and conquer!" said Asim. "To stand triumphant in the darkness of the world!"


    "We were made to defend and protect," said Sahshir. "You speak of the virtues of warriors. Yet you do not understand the virtues of other castes."


    "And do you?" asked Asim.


    "No," said Sahshir. "But I am aware of them. Aware of my own ignorance. And I will learn. Are you?"


    Asim smiled. "...Perhaps, perhaps not. You seem to be more your father''s son than you are a leper. I congratulate you on that, at least."


    The doors were flung open, and guards charged in, but Asim raised a hand. "No, let the boy have his chance. Let us finish this."


    Sahshir could kill him. He could. With the Sword of Order, he could overpower Asim''s guard. Or could he? No, the pass would claim both their lives at best. Then, his eyes focused on his other blade.


    The two charged at each other. As they neared, Sahshir dropped to his knees, throwing the Sword of Order. Asim stepped away, but Sahshir snatched up his other blade and brought it around. It slashed through Asim''s chest, as Asim''s blade stabbed past his head. The blade caught upon his mask, and it was torn away.


    Then Asim collapsed to his knees. He set a hand upon Sahshir''s shoulder. "Well... done..." he gasped. "You are the stronger."


    He fell backward.


    Sahshir looked to the men, who drew back. He picked up the Sword of Order and gazed at his own reflection. His face was scarred and looked more like a corpse than a man. Some parts of it have almost rotted away. The disease had passed somewhat; it gnawed only intermittently now. But the scars remained. Drawing it up, he turned to them, and they fell before him, kneeling.


    "My uncle is defeated but not dead," said Sahshir. "I was forbidden from slaying any of you when I came here by Tuor himself. This sword is a Ghost Sword. It has sent him to sleep as it has all those I have defeated. I now return to the shrine.


    "Tomorrow, all of you who wish to prove me unworthy may come before me. I will prove upon the bodies of all who dispute my reign as King. Then, when all of them are defeated, I will be king.


    "Sushaki, you will release Schzara at once. I may not be permitted to slay you, but you can survive a great deal." He felt the threat was necessary.


    Sushaki nodded and stood. "Yes, Prince Sahshir, at once."


    He had returned. Now, he had work to do.

 Chapter Eight: A Matter of Pride

    Sushaki provided him with a scarf to hide his face, thankfully. He also helped him bandage his face so that the bleeding was staunched. The traitor had not been allowed to touch him since the last time. Sahshir allowed him to do so only reluctantly, remembering well what he did. Siding with Asim against Sahshir after so many pledges of eternal friendship.


    Traitor.


    Never again would Sahshir trust this fair-faced scoundrel. Nor would he drink tea before a sunset alongside him. Whatever looks of regret Sushaki gave him only fired his anger now. For he knew his nature and his uses.


    So long as the latter did not outweigh the former, he would not slay him. But for now, he had his uses. And when Schzara entered, his face was hidden once again. The girl ran to him and hugged him, as Sahshir kept an eye on the guards around him. One of them might make a move.


    "Sahshir, you''re here," said Schzara.


    Sahshir set a hand on her shoulder. He wondered what she would think if she saw what lay beneath his gloves and mask. Still, it was not contagious. Perhaps she would not judge him for it. "I am. Follow me. We are leaving the palace at once."


    He offered her a hand, and she took it. Together, they made their way out. As they did, Schzara noticed the dozens of unconscious guards. "What happened to all these guards?"


    "They fell," said Sahshir. "And when they rise, they will not oppose us."


    No attempt was made to bar his path. He walked out the front gates of the palace, and guards cringed backward. News had come of what he had been doing. They feared and respected him. But they did not yet love him.


    As the last gates were pulled aside, Sahshir saw Tuor waiting. The Disciple of Baltoth had a pair of nunchucks by his side, and his hands were tied with bandages. He shifted his massive shoulders and stretched his neck.


    "...Master Tuor?" asked Sahshir.


    Tuor nodded at him with little change in expression. Yet Sahshir could tell he was pleased by his eyes. "That was very well done, Sahshir. You''ve made your point and left no corpses to start a blood feud. I doubt your troubles are over, but this is an excellent start.


    "Come, Kushina has made tea."


    How often Sahshir had dreamed of such a moment once when Aresh yet lived. It felt odd now, out of place.


    Sahshir and Tuor led Schzara to the shrine. There, Kushina was waiting, and they sat together in a circle. Tuor sipped his tea, apparently finding it more interesting than the palace. "So, what made you declare yourself openly before your uncle? Might you have ambushed him in his chambers? Or freed Schzara by stealth. Perhaps both."


    "I wanted to prove I was better than all of them," said Sahshir. He saw no reason to hide the truth nor shy from what he meant. "Fighting my way into the heart of their power without needing to slay anyone seemed ideal."


    "Your desire for power is commendable," said Tuor with a nod. "But there are many kinds of power. Being known and acknowledged as a mighty warrior is one of them."


    "And what other kinds are there?" asked Sahshir. This was the sort of thing Tuor liked to talk about. Power was his favorite subject.


    Often times he would speak of forms of power and how to attain them. What kinds of power were most reliable? What force lasted the longest? And was it better to hold the reigns of power or stand behind the one who did?


    Tuor could talk about power all week. Aresh never had, and Sahshir disliked the change. Nevertheless, the service to Baltoth must be undertaken without regard to self. So it was written.


    One must be willing to devote oneself utterly to the cause without regard to benefit. Sahshir had not yet succeeded at this, nor was he sure he ever would. Yet he knew that was what one would aspire to.


    Tuor would regard that as a kind of power, too.


    "One is to be known as an honorable and reliable subordinate who cannot be bribed," said Tuor. "Wicked men will fear you. And those who see what they believe is justice will admire and flock to your banner."


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    "What do you mean ''what they believe is justice.''" asked Sahshir, not understanding. "There is good and evil. Both are real as day and night."


    "What is good for one man may be evil for another," noted Kushina, sipping her tea.


    Sahshir thought of a quote. "It is written, ''He who lives by thievery alone shall starve friendless in the wilderness.''"


    "Wise words, of course," said Tuor, too quickly for Sahshir''s liking. It was like he was trying to pass the subject off. "Though more of pragmatism than moral in nature. But consider this: a nobleman''s son grows up spoiled with everything he could ever want.


    "One day, he is kidnapped by a demon, thrust forcibly from his home, and put into slavery. He escapes and is forced to survive by begging on the streets. He nearly starves but eventually returns home.


    "When he comes back, he is far wiser. He understands reality better. So when he inherits his father''s lands, he rules justly. He also enjoys what he has more and is less prone to decadence. So the land prospers, and he is far wiser for it. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Was it evil for the demon to have acted so?"


    "I cannot judge this demon without understanding their motives," said Sahshir. "Nor do I know the boy or how he might have changed without it?


    "So, I cannot answer the question." Sahshir reminded himself that Tuor''s theories of power were not without weight. It was not for nothing that he was the Disciple of Baltoth. His wisdom was as great as his strength at arms.


    Tuor nodded. "A wise answer. It is never a fault to admit that you do not know, at least to yourself.


    "How would you react if I told you that the nobleman''s son was Asim?"


    "Asim?" asked Sahshir in surprise.


    "He is held in higher regard in the northern highlands that he holds sway over," said Kushina. "Civilization has not touched that land as strongly."


    "Pride is a valuable thing," said Tuor. "But it clouds the mind when not tempered by humility."


    "It is said by some that pride and humility are opposites," said Sahshir.


    "There are good and ill aspects of every part of the mortal spirit," said Tuor. "Humility may allow one to understand themselves better. But if taken too far, it becomes self-hatred. Then, the one beset by it will think too little of himself. And great things he could one day achieve may never come about.


    "Pride is the same. Baltoth was born of pride. To know the value of one''s achievements and take pride in them is not wicked. Pride in one''s nation can inspire one to do great deeds of valor."


    "Sister," said Schzara, "can I um... go practice archery? This is boring."


    "Do as you like, Schzara," said Kushina.


    Schzara rose and departed, taking up her bow and rushing down the steps with obvious joy. Kushina stood up and smiled faintly as she finished her tea. "I''ll go give her some pointers."


    "That would be wise," said Tuor, nodding respectfully while crossing his arms. "If the girl were kidnapped twice, I would become cross with her."


    When they had left, Tuor looked to Sahshir with a faint smile. He seemed amused by something, and Sahshir did not know what. Schzara was not it; he was sure. "Let me tell you another tale, Sahshir.


    "Once, a long time ago, I was walking through a forest in a distant land. There, I beheld a man fighting a monster with his bare hands. He was losing badly but refused to give up.


    "Moved by pity, I sought to aid him.


    "But another man stopped me. He told me that the monster had devoured the man''s wife. His pride would not allow him to accept help in defeating such an opponent.


    "What would you have done had it been you?"


    "I should have helped the man anyway," said Sahshir.


    "Why?" asked Tuor.


    "Someone who has just lost a loved one is not reasoning," said Sahshir. "And so long as one lives, one may regain honor. So if it were a slight on his honor that I saved him, he could redeem himself in time.


    "It is written: ''So long as you live, you may make amends. So long as you breathe, you may improve. So long as your heart beats, you may achieve greatness.''"


    "Interesting. That is not what I did," said Tuor.


    "What did you do?" asked Sahshir.


    "I killed both men and let the monster eat their corpses," said Tuor. "Then, I had a very stimulating conversation with it on the nature of morality. His name was Grakus, and he was quite an amiable companion.


    "Eventually, we parted ways, and he made his way to Dinis.


    "I never saw him again."


    Sahshir was surprised by the answer and the ending. For a moment, he pondered it, trying to understand why he did it. The act seemed so contrary to anything he would expect. To choose the side of a monster over two men?


    Why?


    "Why would you take his side?" asked Sahshir at last.


    "The giant, it was a giant, eat the man''s wife for a meal," said Tuor with a sigh. "It thought nothing of it and continued on its way. One might as well have been angry at a farmer for slaughtering a hen.


    "The man, in contrast, had far less nobility in his motives. He merely wanted revenge. As if killing the thing that slew his loved one would bring her back. And it is doubtful he would have felt any better at the end.


    "Then, when his weapon was destroyed, he was arrogant enough to refuse any aid. He would not even retreat and try again in more favorable circumstances. I concluded that the giant was the more intelligent of the two and deserving of victory.


    "Anyone foolish enough to disregard life for pride deserves neither. And any society that believes such idiocy admirable should be scourged from Erian. As the Naminaens were, in time, though not by my hand. Their fall predates my rise by some decades, though it is often forgotten in the passage of years."


    "Is there a lesson behind this?" asked Sahshir.


    "You heard only the man''s story. Thus, you assumed he was the hero and the giant a villain," said Tuor. "But the giant was merely trying to live life as much as any human farmer. And he made for far better conversation.


    "Power, real power, comes from understanding the perspectives of all sides. Every man has hopes, dreams, and goals. When you know what those are and what they will do to get them, you can bend them to your will.


    "Which, incidentally, is why I ordered you not to kill anyone."


    "You knew I would attack Asim?" asked Sahshir.


    "I knew you would seek to prove yourself. And I knew that word of a possible threat had already spread in your village. I was surprised to find out what you would do to prove yourself.


    "I merely made a few guesses."


    Sahshir considered the story. "...I was wrong, Tuor. The giant was not the villain. You were."


    "Was I?" asked Tuor. "I prefer to think of myself as an impartial judge of their characters."


    And then the door slid open. Nayasha rushed into the room and fell into a kneeling position. "A thousand pardons, Master Tuor. But we have seen the Airships of Zigilus. They are landing on the border as we speak!"


    Tuor smiled. "Now, aren''t you glad you didn''t slaughter your way through your uncle''s men?"


    "Very," said Sahshir.


    There was a method to how Tuor operated. Sahshir had indeed misjudged him.

 Chapter Nine: The Siege

    Narcissa had seen the airships of Zigilus many times when she and Alkela were young. Once Zarana had taken them as far as one of the landing pads. The colossal craft she was on was held aloft by massive canvas balloons and came in all sizes. Many could be seen ferrying officials off to the cities of Dinis with goods shipments. Others moved soldiers or work crews out to the roads.


    Then there were the pleasure yachts, which moved at slow speeds. On them were ornate imagery of sensual desire, and the crews were every bit as desirable. Once, Narcissa had dreamed of being a courtesan on one of those.


    The passengers were of all kinds, people from other lands and even worlds. You could see them drinking fine wines and playing games as they soared over the grounds. It was something called a vacation.


    But no matter what ship you used, it never went beyond Dinis, and only the largest could go far beyond Zigilus. There were barriers in place, set by the gods, that prevented it. They began to fail once you reached a certain point and eventually crashed.


    The farthest had been an expedition out to Macshore, led by a pilot named Carsus. Garacel had given him a light airship, one of the lightest, with a small crew and load. Yet, he made it there with one of the most formidable achievements.


    However, the ship crashed, and he had to come back by boat.


    For it, he had been rewarded handsomely. Later, he entered Zigildrazia''s harem with high prestige and became a demon in his own right.


    But this airship was gigantic and unadorned. There were hundreds of men stored upon it. And it was part of an entire fleet. Narcissa stood on the deck, admiring the landscape as it flowed beneath them. She looked up to where Garacel was approaching. "This ship is truly amazing, Master Garacel. How have we not conquered the world with these?"


    "They have remarkable capabilities," said Garacel. "Unfortunately, they are limited to those areas where Her Radiance is most powerful."


    "Why?" asked Narcissa.


    "The other gods do not approve of all her inventions," said Garacel. "The airship was a fine idea, but it was not one the other gods wanted. They were concerned that the rapid speed it would allow mortals to travel could ruin all.


    "So it is limited to the area around Zigilus.


    "But in time, we will expand that area until Her Radiance''s airships may fly across the world."


    "I know that Illaryus taught me. I''ve seen long-distance airships, though. He was pulling into port in Zigilus," said Narcissa, a little irritated. "Though they were much smaller."


    "This is true," said Garacel. "For the smaller craft can go farther afield. These ones'', meant to hold armies, are vastly limited in what they may do. Were they to stray from them, they would fall from the heavens like lightning."


    For a time, they continued on their journey. Then, the lands of long black grass began to fade away. In its place, the grass became green. The skies went from violet to red, and the trees went strange. At first, it was subtle, but they looked less carnivorous as time passed.


    Soon, the lands became rocky, and the grass less green, more brownish. Cliffs began to rise beneath them, and tall mountains. They were coming to the Highlands of the Sword, the border between Calisha and Dinis.


    At the last moment, Grakus arrived. He wore his armor, but his whips were coiled around one huge bicep. He bowed as Garacel looked at him. "Grakus, has all been made ready?" sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Indeed it has, Lord Garacel," said Grakus. "My warriors will go forth to meet the Kalthakians. And they will not refuse us battle."


    "Why not stay behind their defenses?" asked Narcissa.


    "If they do so, we shall annihilate their fields and burn their homes," said Garacel. "They will march to meet us. It is not in their nature to let an enemy go unopposed. Moreover, the pass below us is an excellent defense."


    "Will we be fighting?" asked Narcissa.


    "No, we will not, Narcissa," said Garacel. "You, Alkela, and I have a mission of our own. During the armies of Kalthak stalemate Grakus at the pass, we will slip through a smaller way. When we have reached their city, we shall launch our raid." He looked back at the giant. "Remember, Grakus, you are here to keep them occupied. Do not engage them unless you must."


    "Yes, yes, I understand," said Grakus.


    The airship gradually descended toward the mouth of the pass. Even as they neared it, the craft began to shudder. Narcissa felt like it might fall to pieces at any moment. They must be near the limit of the airship''s powers.


    Then she peered past the highlands. She saw beyond them a country of bright green trees and beautiful fields. So many farms were tilled beneath a violet sun that a claw seemed to grip high above. And she saw a small city with walls. They were of a different make from Dinis, with slanted roofs and white stone, and they were lower and thinner.


    "Behold, the capital of Western Kalthak, Khasina," said Garacel, tone strange. "The center of power on this side of the wastes."


    "That''s it?" asked Narcissa. "It''s a lot smaller than Zigilus?"


    "Zigilus is at its zenith," said Garacel. "While Kalthak is but a shadow of what it once was. I remember long ago when the island of Namina still stood tall. Then, there were vast jungles that flowed all throughout the world. There was a great river there, and the maidens would bathe there.


    "I found many a conquest there."


    "You lived here?" asked Narcissa.


    "Indeed," said Garacel. "It was not always ruled by Baltoth. I was the god of this place. But I was cast down. Yet my people were strong, and Baltoth could not establish himself for long.


    "Then Namina fell into the sea, and its people were made refugees who fled here. So much was lost, and the sorcerers became too bold without my guiding hand. They enslaved demons in objects and forced them to do their bidding.


    "The land was made a slave to them. No god was seen as worthy to rule them.


    "At last, their hubris consumed them. A great rebellion was waged by those they had enslaved. The land was reduced to a wasteland. In many places where once there was life and plenty, there is only dirt and rock.


    "Now, at last, their fall is complete. They serve Baltoth. My nemesis." He drew his sword and motioned. "Come, we have much work to do."


    The airship''s legs opened up and set themselves down on the ground. Garacel led Narcissa and Alkela down to the lower decks and then out of the belly. By the time they got there, the armies had assembled. Warriors bearing axes and spears, their armor painted in the images of demons.


    Grakus came forward. "Lord Garacel, our scouts have returned. The armies of Kalthak array themselves, as you predicted. Asim is leading them."


    "Then you are to avoid a confrontation," said Garacel. "Keep him occupied with a few skirmishes if you must. I will handle the rest. Come, both of you."


    They set out as Garacel began to establish his camp. As Garacel led them up to the slopes, Narcissa glanced back. She saw Garacel and his men erecting temporary fortifications. They were driving stakes into the rocky ground. Behind them, they piled stones, and by the time they got halfway up the slope, they were ready to repel an assault.


    Still, Narcissa felt strange, and her legs hurt from the climbing. "It feels so strange walking without high heels," she muttered.


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    "As I said, such an outfit would be immensely impractical in this place," said Garacel.


    "Where are we going?" asked Narcissa. "I don''t see any way through."


    "There are secret ways to every realm," said Garacel. "Here is one of them." Then he halted by an area of the undecorated wall. Walking a little way on, he slipped into the rock face and was gone. Narcissa ran forward and saw there was a gap in the wall. One that could only be seen from below if you were standing right by it.


    Slipping through, she got her axe caught on it. She only got it free with Alkela''s help and soon fell into it. As she moved, she heard the sound of metal on flesh and a gasp. Emerging out in a relaxed way, she halted and here found Garacel. His sword was bloodied, and he was wiping it on his cloak.


    Beneath his boots were two men lying headless on the ground. They wore concealing clothes. Their blood was pouring out over the stones, and Garacel appeared satisfied. What was this sensation she felt at seeing the blood? The feeling she got when she thought of a blade cleaving through their necks, swift and clean?


    She had never contemplated it before today. Never wondered why she felt this way. It had merely come to her as naturally as breathing.


    "What happened here?" asked Narcissa, trying to ignore the feeling.


    These weren''t raishans. They were living human beings who had been killed. And yet, looking at them made her feel good. What kind of monster was she?


    "Asim knows of this pass," noted Garacel. "It seems he left men as watchers. We must move quickly. More will be where these came from."


    "How did you learn of this pass?" asked Narcissa.


    "Long ago, in better days," said Garacel as he led them, "this whole area was a beautiful river. Then, the water poured out of the side of the rock, flowing up from a spring. The water has gone away, but the shape it left remains.


    "Still, how did Asim know of it? His domain is further to the north."


    The path led down north, and Narcissa struggled with her feelings. Finally, as they began to make their way down the track, she approached Garacel.


    "Master Garacel," said Narcissa, gripping her axe, "when I saw those men you killed, I felt... I felt good. Why? Why would I feel that way?"


    "It is your bloodline," said Garacel. "The blood of the Archon of Lust runs through your veins. So you were made in her image. Amysta was well known for her love of carnage, so the love has passed to you."


    "Amysta?" asked Narcissa in surprise.


    "The sister of Zigildrazia. She was the Archon of Lust," said Garacel. "But I have said too much, and we have work to do."


    They came before the Kalthakian army and found it very large. They had established their forces behind a heavy wall, reaching up to their chests. Many cherry blossom trees were growing around them, though they were not yet blooming. The men seemed to be sparring, but there were watchers at the ready.


    "No conflict just yet," said Garacel. "I have some old friends among the spirits of this land. They shall weave a spell over us so we are not seen."


    "Why doesn''t Asim attack us?" asked Narcissa as they slipped silently through the trees.


    "He remembers well his father''s invasion of Zigilus," said Garacel. "And he has learned his lesson too well. So, Asim only attacks directly if he is in absolute superiority.


    "He prefers to pick the ground and let his enemy come to him."


    "What about his invasion of Western Kalthak?" asked Narcissa.


    "He focused there on soft targets," said Garacel. "And struck by swift raids to bait King Belosh into a confrontation on his terms. But enough of this, we have work to do."


    They walked, and none noticed their passing. Soon, the city was drawing steadily nearer, even as the sun fell and the moon took place. Even so, Narcissa was worried. The gates were smaller than Zigilus, but they were still huge. And she doubted all the warriors had gone away with Asim.


    "Lord Garacel, even if we''ve gotten past the main Kalthakian army, how are we to get into the city," said Narcissa. "There must be some guards remaining."


    "There are," said Garacel in a pleased tone. "But we are not only three in number. For those who died in my service now inhabit my form. Their wills and souls well within me, and I may call upon them for their blades." He raised his blade, and it gleamed with a violet flame. "Come forth, ancient warriors of the Lover Eternal. Come forth and serve your master once more."


    There was a chilling sensation. Then specters appeared. Hundreds upon specters, clad in armor, were painted with the images of demons. They glowed with white light and swirled around them in more significant numbers.


    "We come... as commanded..." said one.


    Garacel raised a hand and pointed it at the gate. There was a beam of light, and it struck. The doors shattered into splinters. Moments later, an alarm bell began to sound.


    "Go forth now," said Garacel. "Find the Blade of Chaos. Kill all those who defend it. But do not strike without need, nor rush to unnecessary battle. Asim will come after us, and we must be swift."


    "So shall the way be opened," said the specters.


    So the specters rushed forward into the gates. Cries of alarm came from the guards as they ran to try and block their path. Garacel strode on through the fray. Narcissa saw a specter be slashed down by a blade, only to slash the one responsible as it faded. Another of the ghosts carved down a man while they jabbed at him with a spear.


    Yet the defenders were quickly scattered.


    And then came another. He descended down from the rooftops and fell upon the specters. He wielded a shining katana and weaved through the specters, slaying many in mere moments. The ghosts swirled around him, attacking from all sides. For a moment, it seemed like he would be overwhelmed.


    Then another force descended, spear in hand, and scattered them.


    Garacel glanced back from his walking. Without another word, they summoned several more spirits. "So Tuor himself has come down to this place, has he? This timing is most unfortunate." Narcissa turned back, but Garacel set a hand on her shoulder. "Don''t stop for them. We will take what we came here for and be gone soon."


    "Where are we going?" asked Narcissa.


    "To a shrine," said Garacel. "A place that was designed to protect the Blade of Chaos. For a long time, it was kept secret. But Dakan''s contacts located it some time ago."


    "But what about your warriors?" asked Narcissa.


    "Fear not," said Garacel. "They are bound to me by the bonds of love; no sword can break those. They shall know no rest until my vengeance is achieved." So on they walked through the streets, the sound of fighting continuing.


    "Well, what about that man with the shining sword?" asked Narcissa.


    "One of an ancient clan commissioned by a dead descendant of Baltoth," said Garacel. "She hoped to use them to engineer the downfall of her sire. But when her plans were foiled, Baltoth adopted them for his own use."


    "What was her name?" asked Narcissa.


    "I do not remember," admitted Garacel. "It was long ago, and I was still in the mine. But, come, we need haste."


    They came to the palace and found guards standing by. The warriors rushed forward with their spears. Before Garacel could move, Alkela surged forward with her mace. Narcissa ran ahead with her, drawing her axe. She shattered a spear as it came at her before bringing it around the back of her axe. The blade there into his eye. He screamed and fell back, and Narcissa spun around her axe to drive it into his chest.


    At the same time, Alkela had smashed the skulls of two. But Narcissa soon found herself hard-pressed, driven back by the spears. It was all she could do to keep them off her. Then Garacel strode past, his blades moving in a blur. As he sheathed his sword, the guards exploded into blood.


    "Well done, both of you," said Garacel.


    Narcissa stared at the man she''d killed. She''d meant to strike him with the shaft and knock him unconscious. Instead, she''d killed him. Murdered him. She felt bile rising in her throat and wanted to throw up. But another force, a sick enjoyment, rose within her, one not her own. She looked at Alkela and saw her smiling. Why was she smiling?


    "Enough, both of you!" said Garacel. "We have little time left!"


    Narcissa fought back the bile and followed. Alkela did the same, tossing her bloodied mace into the air and catching it.


    Garacel veered off the main path and went to a smaller building to the palace''s left. It wasn''t guarded or anything. And yet, as they approached the door, Narcissa found it hard to keep going. Her legs were reluctant to move, and she felt like something within her was snarling in pain.


    Garacel himself seemed reluctant to move forward. But he pressed on nonetheless and came to the doors. Then, bringing down his sword, he struck them. But the blade rang and flew back as some force set itself against them.


    "As I thought," said Garacel. "Baltoth protects this realm. And I am not yet strong enough to contest his will."


    "What do we do then?" asked Narcissa. "I could break the doors."


    "You may feel free to try," said Garacel before turning away and opening a compartment in his armor.


    Narcissa shrugged and raised her axe. Then she halted. She felt as though she had been commanded not to go further by some stern watcher. The tenseness in her muscles failed. But she pulled back her axe anyway to strike. Now, she felt as though there were dozens of arrows pointed at her. Again, she was being warned to halt. Narcissa was afraid and did not want to strike. She swung her axe down and then veered off. It wasn''t that she had decided against hitting it.


    Her limbs would not obey her. How had Garacel done it? She tried to draw back her hand to try again, but her body would not respond.


    Then Garacel set several sticks to the door and murmured an incantation.


    "We''d best move away from here," said Garacel.


    "Is that a magic device that will break the enchantment?" asked Narcissa.


    "In a manner of speaking," said Garacel before pulling her and Alkela away.


    Moments later, the stick exploded. A noise like thunder blew the entire door into splinters. The door frame and part of the roof were obliterated, which caught fire and fell in.


    "Baltoth may intimidate others," said Garacel. "His master of order gives him power over the wills of men, preventing them from fighting at their fullest. Fortunately, that device has no consciousness. I need only cast a small spell."


    Garacel walked forward without fear. The shrine had images painted on the walls of strange stories. But even as they walked, the flames were consuming them.


    And there, meditating among the rising flames, was a woman. She wore white and red clothes and had short, dark hair. Her skin was pale, and she was thin and beautiful. Over her knees was set a naginata spear, but her hands were not on it.


    Her eyes opened as Garacel strode in.


    She arose in one smooth movement, the naginata coming into her hands of its own accord. She spun and flourished it with practiced ease before turning it toward Garacel. Master Garacel readied his own blade and took a stance.


    Both faced one another, no words being passed between them. The smoke rose ever higher, but it seemed to flee from the woman. Finally, only the crackling of flames could be heard.


    Then, a roof tile fell from above. As it struck the ground, the woman sprang. She surged forward and unleashed a flurry of strikes. Garacel parried them before bringing around his sword at her neck. But she ducked and stabbed upwards, nearly catching him in the shoulder.


    Back and forth, they dueled.


    As they did, Narcissa sensed something. It was power, primal, and hungry. It drew her, and she slipped past the fighting toward the door at the far end. Reaching it, Narcissa saw that the door seemed rotten. Like it was being eaten away behind them.


    As Narcissa reached out, the door crumbled.


    And beyond was the Blade of Chaos. It was beautiful and terrible at once. Its serrated blade seemed to exist to drink blood. Yet also to liberate the oppressed. Narcissa reached out for it- Her senses screamed at her, and she ducked.


    The naginata surged over her head. Narcissa swung her axe around, but the woman leaped up and landed on the blade, shoving it down. She brought the spear around, and Narcissa fell back as it nearly cut her throat. Then Alkela was upon her, mace falling. But the woman surged away, and roundhouse kicked Alkela to the ground. Even as she readied her spear, Garacel was on her, and they continued to duel.


    Narcissa around and grabbed the Blade of Chaos. She felt a rush of freedom as she pulled it from the shrine. And as she did, the flames rose ever higher and hotter. Soon, the whole shrine was a raging inferno, and then, a moment later, it had been consumed and was but ashes and embers.


    Then Garacel was thrown back, the spear in his shoulder. The guardian of the shrine slashed at him repeatedly. Then, he drew back the spear, summoning white light to it.


    On an impulse, Narcissa threw the Blade of Chaos.


    It spun through the air toward her, and the guardian leaped back. She narrowly avoided being speared. The blade then dipped low and landed directly in front of Garacel, who snatched it up. He rose now, and he seemed filled with a terrible green light.


    As he raised the Blade of Chaos, the guardian woman surged forward, and Garacel went to meet her. They passed each other and halted. For a moment, they stood there, weapons in front of them.


    Then blood spewed from the guardian''s shoulder, and she collapsed.


    Then, a shadow descended upon them.

 Chapter Ten: The Pursuit

    As soon as Nayasha spoke, Sahshir arose and moved to draw his blade. But Tuor caught his hand as he did so, eyes closed in contemplation. For a moment, they struggled in place. "Stay your blade, Sahshir. This is too blatant a move by Zigildrazia to be entirely genuine. She has something else planned."


    "Whatever it is, it will be foiled if we defeat them," said Sahshir.


    "Perhaps," conceded Tuor. "And it would not do to leave this city undefended. But, if Asim meets him in a direct confrontation, I expect he will be victorious.


    "But I do not think this is anything more than a diversion. Garacel knows this domain well."


    "Garacel?" asked Sahshir. "That legendary enemy of Baltoth was here? "Are you certain it is him?"


    "Not certain," said Tuor. "But it is likely. The one-timer ruler of Dinis and Kalthak. He has come here for some purpose. And I believe it lies within this shrine."


    "The Blade of Chaos?" said Kushina.


    "Yes," said Tuor. "No doubt, he has sensed its awakening."


    "Baltoth is my strength," said Kushina. "No man or god will pass my watch. I would like to know if you discussed this with Asim."


    "I didn''t," said Tuor. "If he is not even present for the coming battle, it will aid Sahshir''s cause. But, in the meantime, we must make preparations of our own. Nayasha set a watch on the gate. If Garacel comes, it will be personal. And he will bring with him his specters.


    "We must be ready."


    They made their way out of the shrine and saw troops departing the palace in good order. They marched together, wearing the full reddish armor of Kalthak''s elites. At their sides were long blades, and in their hands were spears. Others bore little or no armor and brought out spears or axes in a militia. The bells of wrath, taken from Antion in a raid long ago by his ancestors, were ringing. Their sound resounded from their towers at the gatehouse. All to summon the militia throughout the city as women and children hurried home. Merchants could be seen trying to get their goods to safer places, while dark clouds filled the sky.


    The armies of Eastern Kalthak could field up to ten thousand men if fully mustered. Yet Khasina was not Kalthak, and there was no time. Here, they had only three thousand at the best of times. Most of them militia spearmen drilled by the order of Baltoth. Asim''s personal forces would help; he had his own resources. But how had the enemy come so quickly?


    Asim was also there, wearing his black armor and looking very pleased. With him was Sushaki, clad in a white suit. They were speaking, and Sushaki nodded before putting a closed fist to his chest in salute. Asim turned and marched away.


    Sahshir walked up to Sushaki, bearing his sword. Sushaki turned to him, his fair face impassive. Never had Sahshir seen anyone look so noble in armor. Nor had he known any deceptive and vicious two-faced liar to appear so fair. "Sahshir. You are here."


    "Yes," said Sahshir. "I will offer my sword to the defense of this city."


    Even Sushaki wouldn''t be depraved enough to turn on the city for spite''s sake.


    "Baltoth tells us that the leader who does not understand what it is to be a soldier cannot command," said Sushaki. And he set a hand of his own sword. It was a majestic blade of beauty nearly his equal. Unfortunately, however, I doubt either of us will have the chance.


    "Father will deal with this raid soon enough."


    "It may yet be more than that," said Sahshir. "Let us go to the wall."


    Together, they walked as they had with Kushina in long years past. With them were many men. As they marched, Sahshir was careful to stay beyond the reach of any save Sushaki, and he kept a hand upon his sword.


    Soon, they came to the gate and observed Asim walking for the pass at the border. His soldiers moved swiftly in the moonlight and disappeared into the dark. Sahshir glanced back and saw men drawing near at hand. But he caught them in his gaze, and they stepped back.


    They waited.


    Sahshir contemplated his threat to Sushaki, one made in haste. But he had taken the part of Asim. Departed Sahshir''s company and hoped to one day stand as King on Sahshir''s rightful throne.


    "No sign," said Sushaki, coming to him. "Our watchers have seen no sign of the enemy. Nor has Asim met them in battle. We should have seen them."


    Sahshir focused his vision on the moon high above. Then, looking deep into the moon, he murmured a prayer to the Moon Spirit under his breath.


    Perhaps by design or chance, a beam of light shot down and illuminated three figures before the gate. Two smaller figures, clad in black armor with a mace and an axe. And one hulking figure in the armor of dark steel inlaid with gold. And power was in his bearing. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sahshir set a hand on Sushaki''s shoulder. Sushaki started and set a hand to his blade before relaxing.


    "What is it?" said Sushaki.


    "Three figures," said Sahshir. "See there."


    Sushaki''s gaze turned where Sahshir pointed. A murmur resounded among the men.


    "Perhaps they mean to enter by stealth?" said Sushaki.


    "In such armor? I doubt it," said Sahshir. "Let us-"


    And then the gate was shattered. And into view came hundreds of ghostly figures. They swarmed through the gate, and cries of surprise were heard from within.


    "Specters of the dead," said Sahshir before rushing toward the gate.


    "To arms!" he heard Sushaki cry. "We must defend the gate!"


    Sahshir was ahead of them all. He vaulted across the flat rooftops until he came to the gate. He saw the guards fighting with the specters as the armored figures walked at them. The battle was going ill. Their swords hardly injured the creatures, and armor was all but useless.


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    "The wrath of Baltoth strikes from on high!" cried Sahshir aloud.


    And drawing the Sword of Order, he fell upon the specters. He cleaved through one as he descended, and it dissipated. Then he lunged forward and slashed through another. He cut around him, and two dissipated. The creatures swerved away from him in all directions.


    But soon, they returned with greater fury. They shot down upon him from the air, and he felt a spectral blade rake his shoulder. They were all around him now, and though he killed more with every moment, he was overwhelmed.


    Then came the men.


    Sushaki led a charge into the midst of the spirits. Cutting down a specter with his sword, he engaged another. A great battle began anew, and Sahshir hacked and slashed around him. Yet it was only beginning, and the leader of their enemy was nowhere to be found. Spearmen of the militia formed a line and thrust forward, chanting prayers to Baltoth.


    The ghosts recoiled.


    Sushaki met him, and the two stood back to back. They turned in a circle together, and wherever their gaze fell, the enemy died. Yet the leader was nowhere to be found.


    "Sahshir," said Sushaki, "the necromancer is not here. Go and find him. He will surely seek the Blade of Chaos. We''ll deal with these."


    Sahshir nodded and retreated from the battlefield. Scaling up a wall, he left once more across the rooftops. As he did, he saw battles spreading throughout the streets. And yet, not one door was broken open. Not one window was shattered. Those who fled were not pursued, for the specters sought only to do battle with the fighting men.


    Soon, he came to the shrine and found it a raging inferno that sent sweat streaking down his brow. Such was the heat that he could hardly approach without being burned. And yet the flames died just as quickly, and he was able to come through the smoke. Then, scaling up a wall, he looked down into the roofless ruin.


    And there, he saw the armored figure and Kushina dueling. They passed one another and halted. In the armored figure''s hand was the Blade of Chaos. It gleamed hatefully, and then Kushina collapsed to the ground.


    "Kushina!" cried Sahshir. So they had killed his friend! He''d kill them! He''ll kill them all for this insult!


    Leaping from the roof, he plunged his sword down toward his enemy. But as he did, the Blade of Chaos blocked the Sword of Order. The two powers ripped against one another, and Sahshir staggered back beneath the force of it.


    Yet the armored figure did not. Instead, he pressed forward, and Sahshir was forced onto the defensive. It was all he could do to survive the onslaught as blows like lightning rained. Soon, he had fallen to his back near Kushina. Rolling away from a downward thrust, he avoided being impaled. He felt his soul quiver at the sight of the blade as he jumped and took a stance.


    "The Sword of Order." said the figure. "In the hands of an unworthy wielder. So much, the better. When you meet your god, tell him Garacel has his sword!"


    Garacel lunged. But Sahshir rolled aside and jabbed upward. His sword caught the god beneath the armpit, and Garacel recoiled, armor chipped. His returning strike nearly took Sahshir''s head off, but Sahshir backflipped away. Sahshir stooped by Kushina and, grasping her, leaped onto the wall and away. He fled, feeling Kushina''s blood on him until he was far away. Setting her down, he tore the cloth from her skirt and used it to bind her wound as best he could. Then, he did the same to his own wound.


    Kushina opened her eyes. "Sahshir, go after them..."


    "What?" said Sahshir.


    "You must go after them now," said Kushina, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The Blade of Chaos must be found... it must not be allowed to fall into their hands." She drew the crystal talisman from her neck and pressed it into his hands. "Take this gem. I''ll be able to speak with you about it. Follow after our enemy and report... on their...location..."


    "As you wish," said Sahshir.


    Rising up, he left behind Kushina. Leaping back to the shrine, he found it smoldering still. But footsteps of ash were trekking through the streets. Sahshir followed after them, and while the footsteps disappeared, the trail did not. For wherever Garacel walked, soldiers and guards lay cleaved and dead.


    He made no attempt at stealth but walked swiftly and indeed the way he had come. And all who resisted him were dead in pieces. Or cowering in terror. Sahshir went to the gates and saw Sushaki lying against the wall, breathing hard. His sword was broken, and his armor was cracked.


    Sahshir could not stop. His mission was too urgent.


    As he passed through the gates, he took to the shadows, praying to the Moon Spirit to keep her rays from him. And soon, he came within sight of the three enemies. A direct battle would be hopeless, so instead, he merely pursued.


    "Both of you performed well," said Garacel. "In the future, I can trust you with greater responsibilities."


    "I''d much rather stick to killing raishans, to be honest." said a female voice from one.


    "I will consider the fact, then," said Garacel. "But I may need your service in the future." The man seemed to have a good relationship with his subordinates. Sahshir doubted they were lovers.


    Kushina would be avenged.


    Garacel led them to the pass but veered off suddenly and made his way into a strange pass that was not on any maps. Eventually, he slipped into a crevice, followed by the others. Here, Sahshir considered ambushing them to kill them piecemeal.


    But it would be for naught. Unless he could overcome Garacel, killing his minions would only serve to alert him. He must observe. So he followed.


    The crevasse led out to an open area. And there, Sahshir saw the airships. Huge, bulbous black things, designed with images of depravity. Figureheads of succubi were at the front of each. And so he followed, almost within Garacel''s shadow.


    And then he saw an ogre. It was a giant thing that wore a helm shaped like a wolf''s maw. The teeth lined his face, and many whips were coiled around his right hand.


    "Master Garacel, you''ve returned." said the ogre, kneeling.


    "I have," said Garacel. "We have what we came for. Launch the airship and let us begone from here at once."


    "Why didn''t we bring any guards with us?" asked Garacel''s minion as they walked up the ramp.


    "They all would have died," said Garacel. "I''d rather spend some power to use warriors who have nothing to lose than lose men with families."


    "Right, of course," said the minion.


    The ramp closed behind them. The airship began to rise into the air. At that moment, Sahshir felt the weight of destiny was on him. He rushed forward and grabbed ahold of one of the legs of the device, even as it receded. Scaling up, he looked down to see the land growing small. Fortunately, the elaborate decoration of the airship provided many handholds. Sahshir was able to move along it until he came to the deck. There, he waited as the guards patrolled until he saw an opening.


    Pulling himself up, he shot past them and down into the area below. By fate or chance, none were there, and he could slip into the halls. He dodged guards and patrols until, at last, he found a storage room. Here, he opened it and slipped in.


    Here, he rested a moment. Then, drawing out the stone Kushina had given him, he focused his will through it. "Kushina, can you hear me?"


    "Yes," said Kushina.


    "The enemy has taken their airships. I''m onboard it, and it is leaving," said Sahshir.


    "Be careful, then," said Kushina. "Sushaki was seriously hurt in the fighting."


    "I thought you''d tell me to get off it," noted Sahshir.


    "When have I ever been able to get you to do anything?" asked Kushina. "Find a safe place and hide out until you make port."


    Sahshir meant to do just that.


    Then he heard voices from two guards, who stopped near the entrance.


    "So we''re headed back to Zigilus then?" said one.


    "Yes. I heard Lord Garacel found the sword we were looking for," said the other.


    "Good. Those natural lands gave me chills." said the first. "When I get back, I''ll first have my way with one of those slave succubi in the brothels."


    "To each their own," said his friend, voice distasteful.


    "Oh, come on." said the first. "They''re mindless, obedient, and beautiful as long as you pay. What''s wrong with that?"


    "I like to have my way with things that can think," said the second.


    Sahshir raised the stone. "Kushina, what is a slave succubus?"


    "A mockery of the female form," said Kushina. "And sometimes the male form, though those are rare. Zigildrazia often transforms criminals in her domain into them, using them for prostitution.


    "It is a primary industry of many cities that worship her."


    "Sickening," said Sahshir. That was what Kushina would expect him to say.


    "I''m well aware," said Kushina. "Listen, Sahshir, I won''t be able to fight for a while. And a lot of people have been hurt or killed. So don''t expect any invasion any time soon. We won''t be able to bail you out if you are captured."


    "You need not concern yourself. I learned the ways of shadow from Tuor," said Sahshir.


    "Do you hear something?" asked one.


    Sahshir covered his eyes with one hand.


    "Oh, come on," said the other. "Who could get all the way up here?"


    "These Kalthakians are a determined sort," said the first. "They can do insane things if it means hurting their enemies. Some might have tracked Lord Garacel back, and we might never have known it."


    "Well, we will now," said the second.


    They opened the door, and Sahshir drew his ghost blade. It passed through both their necks, and they fell to the ground, unconscious. Sahshir then dragged their limp forms into the room. They should be out cold soon. "I hate hiding."


    Setting a hand to the Sword of Chaos, he felt it emanating power. The Blade of Chaos was near. Perhaps Sahshir could steal it back or kill Garacel while he was unaware.


    It was worth a try.


    He left the storeroom and drew his Ghost Blade. It was time to see if he could defeat this entire ship by stealth. What was the worst that could happen?

 Chapter Eleven: Plans for the Future

    It had been quite an adventure, actually. They''d seen Master Garacel in action, even seen him face an equal. A war between ghosts and mortal men had played out before their eyes. But at last, it was over. They were finally going home.


    Narcissa was more than glad of the fact as she slid her one-piece leather outfit on. She slipped the straps onto her left shoulder and stretched. She enjoyed the sensation of the soft leather as she slipped on the other.


    Wearing a glorified tin can was not fun at all. However, she felt and looked much better like this. Narcissa admired herself in the mirror. Had there ever been a servant of Zigildrazia to look so flawless?


    Aside from Alkela, of course. Her blonde hair and perfect complexion were something to be shown freely. And her other excellent features were something that ought to be appropriately foreshadowed. Especially those fabulous breasts and hips...


    All the more fitting for Narcissa''s twin sister. Who else could compare in looks?


    Narcissa drew in a breath as they crossed the border. Even now, she could feel the energy of Zigilus flowing through her as they drew nearer. The sky had already returned to normal. She began tying her hair back into its original ponytail. As she looked at Alkala''s reflection in the mirror. Her twin had finished some minutes ago; she always dressed quickly and held her mace.


    "Ugh, it feels so good to be out of that armor and back in leather," said Narcissa. "Right, Alkela?"


    Alkela moved forward and set a hand on Narcissa''s left shoulder. Narcissa met her gaze, and something seemed off about her. Ever since Alkela had seen the Sword of Chaos, she''d seemed odd. There was steel in her eyes that hadn''t been there before. Though Narcissa felt somewhat bizarre herself.


    They had set foot in a world that did not revolve wholly around Zigildrazia''s will. Or even Baltoth''s. It had been strange, and somehow Narcissa felt stronger. But, on the other hand, she thought she would not be the same even when she was back in Zigilus. And she wasn''t sure she wanted it to be the same.


    Narcissa shoved Alkela''s hand off her shoulder and walked past. "Come on, let''s go see Garacel," said Narcissa. "We''ll be getting back to Zigilus in a few hours. The first thing I''m going to do is eat a feast. What do you think?"


    Alkela looked at her flatly. Narcissa sighed. "Yeah, right. I know, ''choose a healthy diet or die.''" Alkela suddenly looked up. Her eyes flicked to the door, and she picked up the mace she''d kept. Narcissa looked at her oddly. "What''s wrong?"


    Alkela made for the door. "Akela, where are you going? And why are you still using that stupid mace? You looked better, making use of hand-to-hand anyway."


    Alkela didn''t turn back. Narcissa waited a moment. Then she sighed, snatched up her axe, and propped it over one shoulder. She followed her sister out of the room and into the halls. As they walked, Narcissa guessed she thought someone was on board. She moved toward her and grabbed Alkela by the shoulder. "Okay, seriously. Nobody is going to be able to stow away on this. Master Garacel would never miss them.


    "Let''s head to the bridge."


    Alkela looked at her and finally nodded. So they went off. As they did, they noticed that several of the patrols had been there before had been removed. Was someone slacking off? Or had Grakus found some other task for them?


    Personally, Narcissa didn''t see the need. They were miles in the air. Who was going to attack them up here? She''d heard that dragons flew in the fast western regions of the world. But the golden dragons of these lands crawled on eight legs. Even if they had wings, their armor was too heavy to take flight.


    They turned a corner, and at last, they reached the bridge. The guards saluted and opened the way for them, and they walked through. The bridge was an area of many magical displays that showed information. A three-dimensional map of light was coming from a table in the center. Garacel and Grakus were there, looking at it. They seemed to discuss something, but Narcissa couldn''t explain.


    As they approached, Garacel looked up. His arms were crossed, and the eyeholes of his helm glowed in satisfaction. "Ah, Narcissa, Akel, I''m glad you arrived. We''ll be arriving shortly. But, for now, we have things to discuss."


    "What sort of things?" asked Narcissa.


    "I''ve been in communication with Her Radiance. She is pleased with your conduct," said Garacel. "Both of you are to meet with her once we arrive. I recommend you prepare yourselves. Depending on how she presents herself, she can be overwhelming to look at."


    "Right," said Narcissa, not sure of herself. "That''s a great honor. I''m honored."


    "I have also received word regarding Zarana," said Garacel. "She is to be afforded a trial shortly after you arrive."


    Narcissa shifted. She didn''t want to think about Zarana right now. There was nothing she could do about it anyway. She should change the subject. There had been something she''d been meaning to ask. But how to say what she needed to say? It had been bugging her for some time. Maybe it had been bugging Alkela as well. A pity she couldn''t say anything. "Master Garacel, can I ask you something?"


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    "You may," said Garacel.


    "Why haven''t we seized the Blade of Chaos before now?" asked Narcissa. "We could have done it years ago."


    "A just question," said Garacel. "The Emperor has, until now, forbidden it. He fears the might of Calisha. But, now that he has turned on us, we have no reason not to seek its power.


    "Thus, Zigilus may fulfill its purpose. More importantly, however, the wars on the seal were designed to keep us out. We could pierce them only thanks to some inside help."


    "What manner of inside help?" asked Narcissa.


    "Dakan has many contacts," said Garacel. "And you do not need to know their names. Leave such matters to me, Narcissa. Concern yourself with your task today and plan for tomorrow only when necessary.


    "A man can spend his whole existence making plans and schemes greater than any other. But they will amount to nothing if he does not act on them. Fortunate favors those who act."


    "But, of course," said Grakus, "one ought to wait for the right time. The one who rushes in with no plan dies without achieving anything. Though far faster, I expect."


    Narcissa looked at Alkela. "You said that Zigilus may fulfill its purpose. What do you mean? Do you mean Zigildrazia founded an entire city on stealing the Blade of Chaos?"


    "There were several reasons," said Garacel. "And it was on my recommendation. But that was one of them, yes. We needed a convenient place from which we could seize the sword.


    "Her Radiance made that sword, long ago, to Typhos'' specifications. Just as Barden forged the Sword of Order for Valinor. Typhos gave the Blade of Chaos to Baltoth so that he could defeat Valinor. But he cast it aside when he took Valinor''s domain.


    "It has lain where it is for years."


    "Why would Baltoth cast aside so powerful a weapon?" asked Narcissa.


    "The Blade of Chaos is the antithesis to the domain of Order," said Grakus. He uncrossed his arms and set one hand to his sword. "When Baltoth became the God of Order, it would hurt him to hold it."


    "Well then, why not use the Sword of Order instead?" asked Narcissa.


    "Baltoth prefers to work through other people," said Garacel. "Although a formidable warrior, he never does anything himself. Nothing that he cannot achieve through a proxy, at any rate. Thus, he passes the Sword of Order to a worthy warrior whenever the Blade of Chaos is in ascent. It fuels his pride to delegate.


    "But that has not been for many ages since the fall of Typhos."


    Narcissa paused. She found all this interesting and wanted to know more. "So what are we going to do with the Blade of Chaos? Are we going to use it against the Emperor?"


    "We might gain a great victory that way," said Garacel. "But our plans are more... cosmic in nature."


    "Our goal is to restore Typhos to life," said Grakus, punching one massive fist against his hand. "Once the Blade of Chaos is plunged into her still-beating heart, she will live again. Her form shall be restored, and she will consume all our enemies.


    "We need only pay the blood-"


    Garacel raised a gauntlet, and Grakus fell silent. "Enough," said Garacel, gazing hard at Grakus. "Narcissa is not yet advanced enough in Her Radiance''s service to understand her will. And that should not have been spoken of so openly until we were safe within Zigilus."


    Suddenly, the door opened, and a soldier burst into the room. He did not march with any decorum; sweat was on his brow as he kneeled with a clang. "Lord Garacel, we have a problem."


    "What is it?" asked Garacel, turning to him. His grip on his sword tightened.


    "Several dozen of our patrols have disappeared," said the soldier, bowing his head. So it hadn''t all been in Narcissa''s head. Alkela must have noticed it. "We found a number of them unconscious and in storage closets."


    Garacel drew the Sword of Chaos and focused on it. It thrummed and seemed alight with green flame. "...Interesting, the Blade of Chaos senses its enemy.


    "We have an intruder."


    Alkela slapped Narcissa across the back of the head. Narcissa rubbed it. "Okay, okay. You''ve made your point, sis. Lord Garacel, grant us permission to look for them.


    "We''ll find this intruder and kill him."


    Was it the warrior from before? He''d survived fighting Garacel. Could he have followed them back by stealth?


    Garacel remained silent. The flames within his body seemed to flicker red, and Narcissa sensed a presence within. Then he looked at them. "No," said Garacel. "Prepare to evacuate to the other ships immediately."


    "You heard him!" said Grakus. "Prepare for evacuation!" Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Why?" asked Narcissa. "We could just kill him."


    "Of course, we could. And we will," said Garacel. "But not directly."


    "Why not directly? You already beat him once," said Narcissa.


    Garacel looked resigned. "Zigildrazia is more interested in winning than playing the game with style. She has some particular preferences for how this should end.


    "I intend to channel those preferences into an actual result."


    "I don''t understand," said Narcissa.


    "Just bear with her," said Garacel. "She has her reasons, I''m sure."


    "I''m going to send searches to find the unconscious guards," said Grakus. "No sense in losing any fighting men."


    "Good," said Garacel. "Just be sure to move quickly. We''ve been ordered to scuttle the vessel when we see Zigilus."


    "But airships are expensive," said Narcissa. "And Zarana told me the magic seeps into the land below it when they explode. This could scorch the land beneath it. "


    "Narcissa, I am well aware that these orders do not appear to make any rational sense," said Garacel. "Her Radiance is aware, as well. She likes it that way. Now, retrieve your armor and things and prepare to leave.


    "Rest assured, things will be explained when you deliver the Blade of Chaos to her."


    Narcissa nodded and then looked at Alkela. "Let''s go."


    As they left, Narcissa looked at Alkela. "This explanation Zigildrazia has for us had better be good."


    Alkela nodded. Then, the sound of fighting reached their ears, not from the halls but from below.

 Chapter Twelve: Improvisation

    Masked soldiers rushed through the halls of the airship, their boots tramping. Though the shoes were very well polished, the outfits were clean for one in battle. Spearbutt was raised a foot off the ground. The medical bays were likewise clean, and healers were at work. Very soon, the wounded were up and about in an impressive display. Sahshir remained where he was on the ceiling, watching them go by. Then, when they were behind him, he dropped down silently.


    "Something is wrong?" he said to Kushina as he stalked through the halls.


    "What, exactly?" said Kushina.


    "I don''t know," admitted Sahshir. "But the patterns of the crew have been changing. I believe they are alerted to my presence." He stalked around a hall and saw several people carrying away unconscious guards. "Yes, they are alert."


    "Then why aren''t they hunting you?" asked Kushina.


    Sahshir slipped through the halls as quickly as he could. "I do not know. But I may learn the truth in the bridge."


    On he went. The doors in this place were opened by setting a hand to red crystals and finding fewer people around him. Eventually, he came to the doors of the bridge. They were unguarded, and the doors were unlocked.


    Entering, he saw a table where a map may have been put. But it was empty. Many chairs were abandoned, and at the far end was a window. It peered out over a strange sky of shifting colors, and Sahshir could see a city in the distance.


    Zigilus.


    It was built upon a high plateau at the base of a jagged mountain. The city was surrounded by walls four times the size of his own home. Around that were endless grass fields, unbroken by farmland for some distance. You could see settlements distant from it, made of the same style with farmsteads around them. There were many trees as well, but these had a strange shape, and something about them was off.


    In the shadow of the city was a vast encampment. A massive army had been arrayed before it, bearing the banner of Dinis. A great snake coiled around a fist. Sahshir attempted to count out their numbers by the tents he saw below. Then, he noted the standard, the symbol of a legion. There was only one of them, so they numbered roughly five thousand. That was how many men were in a Dinisian legion, after all.


    Then there were others, less well-armored and bearing bows and spears. Auxiliaries, Sahshir guessed, seemed to number around half the legion. Two thousand to three thousand, he supposed.


    Great siege machines were hurling flaming stones against the city. Arrows and stones surged down onto the attackers. They lodged themselves in portable shields that covered the engineers. One was struck in the throat and fell dead to the ground, healers going to him too late. The stones of the legion auxiliaries battered against the wall on the plateau. But they struck an invisible wall and shattered. What was happening here? Why would Zigilus send such a host against them when they were threatened at home?


    And why were they heading toward the army?


    Then, the doors opened behind him. Sahshir quickly took a position behind the map table. Drawing the Sword of Order, he eyed the reflection and saw a gigantic figure enter through the doors. It was a monster nearly three meters high, with long fangs. It had tan skin beneath its armor, and on the one hand, were many metal whips coiled.


    "Are you sure about this?" asked a familiar female voice.


    A fair-skinned, blonde girl around his age walked into the room beside him. Sahshir noted she was wearing a very impractical outfit. An axe was slung over one shoulder. With her was an identical girl, but with shorter hair.


    "Yes, I am." said the giant. "I always forget something when I have to leave in a hurry, and I mean to double-check this time." He drew near and bent down by the table, opening a drawer. "Ah, there it is. The maps."


    "What maps?" asked the girl.


    "I had the pass scouted while we were stalemating Asim," said Grakus. "Landscapes change, and you want to keep your maps updated. So come, let''s get to the other ships."


    They turned and departed.


    "So they are evacuating, are they?" murmured Sahshir. "But why?"


    "Whatever the reason," said Kushina, "you must find a way off quickly. They would unlikely abandon such a vessel unless they intended it to be destroyed."


    "You''re right," said Sahshir.


    Quickly moving up to the controls, he tried to move them. But they ignored his efforts, and all his attempts did not sway it from its path. Gradually, the ship was going lower now. The other vessels in the fleet were veering off, taking an alternate route.


    "I believe they intend to crash this vessel into the legions of Dinis," said Sahshir. "But why is such a war happening?"


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    "I have some idea," said Kushina, "however, it is not presently relevant.


    "There may be another way to stop this ship. It must have some means of staying in the air. If you sabotage it so it descends gradually, you could make a controlled landing."


    "A controlled landing?" asked Sahshir. "I can''t steer."


    "Well, a landing that doesn''t involve a fiery death." amended Kushina.


    "I think I need a new plan," said Sahshir. Seeing a drawer, he opened it and found several manuals. One of them was in Kalthakian, and he quickly scanned through it. "It says here that the engine room is in the back. The engine is, uh... I think it''s the thing that keeps this ship running."


    Worth a try.


    Sahshir turned and rushed back through the airship. As he did, he found nothing and no one to oppose him. Soon, he came to the door to the engine room; he set his hand on the gem. Nothing happened.


    Sahshir drew out the Sword of Order and brought it down. The door bent and buckled beneath the stroke. Another blow saw it shatter. He stopped over the broken remnants of the door. Within this place, he found many strange devices topped with crystal orbs.


    These orbs were pulsing with magic.


    "Now let''s see, to deactivate the engine," said Sahshir. "I don''t understand how to disable these."


    "It is written: When you do not understand something, brute force can destroy it," said Kushina. Kushina was right. He could try to disable them carefully, but that would take too long. He could smash them, but that could cause an explosion. So he drew out his Ghost Sword and stabbed it through one of the crystals.


    The spells clashed against one another. Instantly, a reaction began as the disruption spread. Sahshir turned around and ran for his life, wishing he hadn''t broken the door on his way out. He got halfway down the hall when there was a shuddering. He was thrown forward from the force and narrowly got around a corner before a wave of flame shot by. Then, there was the rushing of air. Glancing back, he saw the open landscape below. It was a landscape that was getting closer by the moment.


    Sahshir paused. Blowing up the engines to prevent the airship from crashing was not his best idea. Of course, he''d die on his terms instead of his enemy. But he''d be dead all the same.


    "Well, I''m descending now," noted Sahshir.


    "So what''s the problem?" asked Kushina.


    "I''m descending more quickly than I''d like," admitted Sahshir.


    "How quickly?" asked Kushina.


    "...If I''m at the bottom of this ship when it crashes, I''m going to die," decided Sahshir.


    "Then get to the top," said Kushina.


    "Right," said Sahshir.


    Rising up, he sprinted through the halls of the airship and up the various stairs. If he got high enough on the vessel, the force might not be sufficient to kill him.


    At last, he reached the deck and found it empty. All but one of the airships were veering off, and he saw figures scaling into the last one. Going to the edge, he saw the ship descending towards the Dinis legions'' rear.


    Looking up at the balloon, he grabbed the rigging and began to scale it up. Pulling himself higher and higher, he reached the top and halted, balancing.


    Above him, he saw the enemy airship bring up its last soldier. And there, looking down, was the giant.


    He motioned to his guards. Then he leaped downward toward the airship. The giant landed before Sahshir, and the airship shuddered beneath his weight. As he raised his hand, the metal whips came loose and slashed at the air like snakes. He smiled. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sahshir drew the Sword of Order.


    "I''ll deal with you myself," said the giant.


    "Who are you?" asked Sahshir.


    "Grakus the Strong. Chief of the Enforcers." said the giant. "Prepare to die."


    The giant Tuor had spoken of?


    And then he was upon Sahshir. His whips slashed and struck like a hydra, and it was all he could do to evade it. Unfortunately, his footing was terrible. Sahshir nearly slid off the edge as he backed away. Dropping to one knee, Sahshir rolled aside as Grakus lunged. Vaulting over the giant, he stabbed down with the Sword of Order. But Grakus moved aside with surprising grace and brought around a fist. Sahshir twisted in midair to dodge it and brought around his blade.


    They passed each other and landed.


    And then the airship hit the ground. There was a shuddering, and both were thrown off it. Grakus and Sahshir hurtled through the air. Behind them, the vessel exploded into a ball of the purest flame, crashing through the armies of Dinis. Men fled before it as the fire consumed the area.


    Sahshir turned himself in midair and remembered his training. Summoning his will, he slowed his fall as he descended. So it was that as he landed, he did not break every bone in his body. However, he hit the ground at a roll and landed hard. For a moment, he remained there, lying with aching muscles.


    Then, he became aware of an armored man over them, raising a spear.


    On reflex, Sahshir rolled away and snatched up the Sword of Order. Bringing it up, he cleaved through armor and cut the man in half. Others were around him for a moment. He dodged and weaved around their weapons, hacking and slashing. Several heads fell around him as the airship exploded.


    Then, the gates of Zigilus opened.


    From them came massive hairless dogs. They had horns like those of deer and red skin and fangs like those of a lion. They tore down into the chaos of the camp and fell upon the army. Then, over the walls came many winged women with claws and spears. They swooped down to attack the legion, and soon, the battle was joined.


    Sahshir saw all this as he waved and hacked around him. His training was at work, and dozens had fallen to him. But he felt a blade nearly strike his eye and realized he would be overwhelmed. So, vaulting over a soldier, he spun through the air and landed behind. Then he made a run for it, fleeing toward Zigilus.


    Absolute chaos had overtaken the camp. The legionnaires were fighting with the dogs. Auxiliaries hurled spears or retreated for distance with trained practice. He saw one of them cut the head from a dog before cleaving another one across the skull. Then, he shielded a comrade from the spear of a winged woman. Archers came forward and shot down several of the winged women. They were succubi, or so Sahshir guessed.


    The succubi flew higher and began to hurl flames into the midst of the ranks. They mostly targeted siege equipment.


    And then came airships, smaller than those Sahshir had come here on. They sped overhead and opened their bellies. And from them came a rain of boiling oil that scorched them. Men screamed, clawing at their burning flesh. Tents burst into new flame. But warriors in white robes and masks came forward. They sent spheres of fire toward the airships. Some were caught and fell, blasted to pieces by the power. Then Grakus appeared, falling among the sorcerers. He tore through them with his whips. They scattered, and warriors came to bar his path.


    Sahshir decided he''d had enough of this. Slipping away from the conflict, he made his way up the path toward the gate, keeping to the shadows. As he did, he glanced back occasionally to see the combat continuing.


    The legion was regaining its momentum. They had rallied and were driving back the demons, with more being claimed every moment. Sahshir suspected that the monsters would soon be wiped out or they would withdraw.


    As he came to the gate''s shadow, Sahshir saw it was the latter.


    Grakus was last in the retreat, fighting back against the legion. He was undoubtedly a formidable warrior. Soon, the remaining legionnaires dared not pursue him and instead reestablished their defenses. Yet they were a mere fraction of what they had been before. Their siege engines were annihilated, and their tents and stores were destroyed.


    Yet even as the demons drew back their hand, Sahshir saw something. More legions were coming in the distance. Many more in number than those from before. He had never in his life seen such a host as this. The ground trembled, and the reflections of their shining helms were blinding.


    Their baggage train was truly massive as well.


    The army that had been decimated was but a vanguard. Zigilus had only given its master a bloody nose.


    The gates opened, and the armies of Zigilus surged back through them. As they did, Sahshir stayed in the shadow of one of the towers. He saw Grakus march through last with a slight limp. Then, as he walked through, Sahshir slipped in after him into Zigilus.


    Somewhere in this city were Garacel and the Blade of Chaos.


    Sahshir would find both. Then, he would worry about escaping.

 Chapter Thirteen: The Queen Herself

    The battle had ended, for now.


    The vanguard of Dinis had been smashed, and many of their siege equipment destroyed. Although the main army was now assembling, there wasn''t much concern on the part of Garacel. People from the surrounding area had crowded into the city streets under the watch of demons.


    But Master Garacel strode past them to the palace without any sign of concern. His hand was resting on his sword absently while Narcissa held the Sword of Chaos.


    "Are you sure you want me to present the Blade of Chaos to her, Master Garacel?" asked Narcissa, not really liking her new outfit. There were far too many ribbons and chains in it. The collar made her appear very good, but she preferred leather. So she and Alkela had been given matching outfits of this sort when they entered.


    "I could give it myself," conceded Garacel as they walked. "But Zigildrazia prefers to be gifted artifacts by beautiful women. It is her habit, and I do not intend to deny it. So you and your sister will deliver it."


    "Right," said Narcissa. "But why are we heading into the Sanctum?"


    At the gates opened before them, Garacel did not answer for long. Eventually, they came into the altar hall that stood empty. Coming to the altar, Garacel set a hand upon the book there. Then, channeling magic, he turned back to them.


    "There is a secret passage within the Sanctum of Zigildrazia," said Garacel. "Observe."


    The altar shifted and slid back into the ground, even as a secret passage emerged in the wall beyond. It was very bright, with red light illuminating a red-carpeted hallway. As she did so, Narcissa clung to the Sword of Chaos, feeling something shifting through her mind.


    She found herself tossing her hair instinctively. As if trying to look appealing to someone, and she wondered if the outfit she was wearing was good enough. She should have stuck with the leather. Why was she thinking like this?


    "Where does this lead?" asked Narcissa.


    "Into the palace of Her Radiance," said Garacel. "A place that does not wholly exist in this world. Follow me."


    Garacel led them down the passage. As they walked, the passage soon had a branching past leading into a glass hallway. On the other side of the glass were many tentacled monstrosities that clawed at the walls. They were familiar. And they were looking at them filled Narcissa''s mind with a twisted affection. One that was not her own.


    "What are those?" asked Narcissa.


    "Those are a particular breed of raishans," said Garacel. "They are called tentalus. They were created by Amysta. She used them as a means of executing young maidens and a source of entertainment."


    "She had people strangled?" asked Narcissa.


    "Worse, I''m afraid," said Garacele. "The creatures would inflict... indignities upon them. First, they would be impregnated with the creature''s young. Then, they were devoured from the inside by their own children. Their souls would then be transformed into more abominations."


    "That''s sick!" said Narcissa, feeling bile rising in her throat. But at the same time, she felt a sick amusement.


    "Amysta was a deeply unpleasant person," said Garacel. "Even for a demonic archon. I can only think of one person in the world who actually liked her. Fortenex."


    "Isn''t he that war god to the far north?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes," said Garacel. "Amysta was an utterly depraved creature that valued only a man for his battle prowess. Fortenex was a vicious, bloodthirsty raider who valued women only for their bodies. But, somewhere along the line, they fell in love.


    "Thankfully, that alliance was put down a long time ago. Her Radiance overthrew her, and she is now of no more account.


    "These are kept here to guard the Grail of Immortality. It is some ways down the passage." They walked on.


    "The Grail of Immortality," said Narcissa thoughtfully. "Mistress Zarana told me stories about how you attacked the Disciple of Baltoth. You defeated him in single combat. You nearly wiped out his order and stole the Grail from the ashes."


    "Hardly." scoffed Garacel. "I snuck in by night and stole the Grail. I then caught him while sleeping and kicked him in his skull. I then started a fire and ran for my life.


    "At the time, my spirit was a mere shadow of what it had been. Had I confronted him directly, he would have easily killed me."


    "Why did you go after the Grail, anyway?" asked Narcissa. "Why did Zigildrazia want it?"


    "To humiliate him," said Garacel. "Baltoth had done something to anger her, so she gave me leave to even the score."


    "How did you do any sneaking in that armor?" asked Narcissa.


    "I was temporarily moved to a different suit," said Garacel. "One more fragile, but easier to creep in."


    "So you can switch armors?" asked Narcissa.


    "No," said Garacel. "Her Radiance can move me to different hosts. But I cannot change without her will. That was part of my contract with her." They came to a door very suddenly in the endless hall. It was ornate, and the frame was gold, inlaid with crystals. "Ah, here we are now." He glanced at them. "She waits for you within. Or without, whatever it happens to be at the moment."


    "Thank you," said Narcissa, gulping. This was it. She hoped she pleased Her Radiance. She lived and died for her.


    "Oh, and Narcissa?" said Garacel.


    "Yes," said Narcissa.


    "Zigildrazia must not be disobeyed under any circumstances," said Garacel. "It will be worse for you if she is."


    Then he opened the door.


    Narcissa and Alkela strode through it and into what appeared to be a forge. There were thousands, no tens of thousands, of tools on the walls. Great furnaces were bellowing out blasted heat that sent their scanty clothing flowing. The heat was immense, yet the Blade of Chaos vibrated with anticipation.


    They saw no one as they walked on, drawn by some force. But they found many weapons on the walls. Some ceremonial. Others were made for war. They saw plows and axes and spears. Every weapon and device that could be made through metal was here.


    And at last, they saw her.


    Queen Zigildrazia was a forty-year-old, plain-looking woman. She had short hair a crooked nose, and wore concealing blacksmiths. She was hunched over an anvil, working metal as she did. At first, Narcissa thought she looked fully human, but then she saw seven tails in leather sheaths. They were moving about the forge, working pumping bellows, and gaining materials. But it was Zigildrazia. Narcissa had felt her essence within her, like every other person in the world. She knew her by sight.


    Her voice was dry as she approached. "Queen Zigildrazia, Master Garacel has sent-"


    Zigildrazia raised a tail for silence. "I don''t care how important this weapon you''ve brought me is; I''ll finish my craft."


    She made several more alterations. Then, bringing it around, she plunged it into a barrel of blood. The screams of the damned mixed with the sizzling as the weapon was cooled. Finally, Zigilidrazia set down the weapon and turned to her. "Not precisely what you were expecting, I suppose."


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    Narcissa nodded. "No, no, it wasn''t, my Queen."


    "Good," said Zigildrazia. "I do love to subvert expectations. But, of course, there is an art to that as well. There is a difference between an unexpected twist and a pink elephant falling out of the sky.


    "Let me see..." She looked at the weapon she had forged, testing the wait. It was a lovely shape, and the light gleamed off it. Narcissa thought she''d never seen anything so beautiful. But Zigildrazia tossed it aside into a pin. "No, no, no, this will never do.


    "Best to start anew later." She drew up another device her tails had worked on. "Still this, this has a certain quality. Perhaps I will improve this design."


    Then that, too, was tossed aside.


    "Do you want-" began Narcissa.


    "No, not yet," said Zigildrazia. "I haven''t much use for the Blade of Chaos. It''s filled with power, but it''s one of my older designs. I''m an artist, my dear. I wouldn''t say I like anything I design over five years old.


    "Now, you''re wondering, ''Is this really Queen Zigildrazia? Demonic Archon of Sloth and Lust?'' To which I must answer, ''Yes, I''m afraid so.''


    "Right now, which element would you say I am in?"


    "What?" said Narcissa.


    "Am I making use of sloth? Or lust?" asked Zigildrazia.


    Narcissa looked at Alkela in surprise. She looked as confused as Narcissa. This wasn''t at all what they''d been expecting. Narcissa thought about it. It couldn''t be sloth; Zigildrazia was covered in sweat. "...Lust, I suppose. The lust for improvement."


    "Rather a weak chain of reasoning," said Zigildrazia. "No, I am indulging in sloth."


    Narcissa bit her lip. "I don''t understand. You''re working hard. You''re covered in sweat, your clothes are filthy. I mean, I didn''t mean any offense, but-"


    "None taken. And so I am, one moment," said Zigildrazia. "It is a rather contradictory thing, isn''t it? That the Demonic Archon of Sloth should toil in a forge. But that''s only because you are looking at the surface level." Her tails snatched a farm''s plow from the shelves, and she held it before her like a newborn child. "What is this, my dear?"


    "A plow," said Narcissa.


    "Yes. A plow," said Zigildrazia. "What is it used for?"


    "To till fields. For farming," said Narcissa.


    "Could mortals farm without it?" asked Zigildrazia.


    Narcissa thought about that. "...Yes."


    "Then why go to all the effort of building such a device?" asked Zigildrazia, putting it down.


    "It makes the job easier," said Narcissa.


    "That''s exactly it!" said Zigildrazia. "Exactly! We create tools not because we like to work but because we don''t like to work. Investing our time in one thing allows us to put our minds to other matters.


    "Now, do you see?"


    "Yes," said Narcissa.


    "And yet you were not fully wrong," said Zigildrazia. "I am indulging in pursuing my own pleasure at the moment. I love to work with metal, to change its shape, and to shift it into what I desire. It fills me with passion. The only thing that compares is corrupting heroes.


    "I could lounge upon a throne all day, sipping soul wine and engaging in evil. But it would not fill me with pleasure. The drink would not satisfy after the first sip. The man or woman that writhed beneath me would only go so far. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It is the effort one puts into achieving something that brings pleasure." Then she reached forward with one clawed hand and drew the Blade of Chaos from its sheathe. She looked over it with admiration.


    "This sword, what do you think of it?" said Zigildrazia.


    "It''s... it''s very beautiful," said Narcissa.


    "I would hope not," said Zigildrazia. "This sword wasn''t made for beauty. It was made to reap lives. Let me show one that was meant for beauty." And she took from the walls a sword. It shone brilliantly in the light, which made Narcissa''s heart leap. This device was meant to be wielded by a Prince or some great warrior. Raise it above an army, and they will follow you to hell. "Do you think it would be useful for combat?"


    Narcissa opened her mouth to say yes, but Alkela caught her by the shoulder. Narcissa shut her mouth and looked at it. The designs were ornate, silver, and gold. The blade was bright, but the weapons got damaged in battle and needed repair. "No."


    "Why not?" asked Zigildrazia.


    "All those designs would be destroyed," said Narcissa. "Going to war with it would ruin it. Fixing it would be a complete chore."


    Zigildrazia smiled. "Precisely.


    "This is a ceremonial sword. Its purpose is to delight the one who looks at it. If you bring it into battle and use it for practical purposes, you are misusing it.


    "And yet it can still serve a purpose.


    "A beautiful object can inspire. It can change the minds and wills of those who look upon it. It was not made for the hands of the pragmatic but the hearts of those who gazed on it.


    "That is what succubi were before I became their ruler. A beautiful thing to be used only at the last need. Consorts. Devoid of the true power of their own. That is what I sought to amend."


    Then she motioned. The forge faded away, and they were standing in a great throne room. The walls seemed miles high, and from the ceiling hung diamond chandeliers. A red carpet flowed through to a great throne. Yet the throne was out of place, for it was forged of skulls and showed images of torture and death.


    Zigildrazia seated herself upon it and clasped her hands together. "I have a gift for you. For both of you." She motioned with one hand, and there was a flash. A brilliant golden ring, plain and without adornment, fell out of the air. It landed in Alkela''s hands, and she looked at it.


    "Alkela, I gift you the Ring of Ascension," said Zigildrazia. "Its magic will triple your strength and summon the full power of your blood. Yet there is a price. The more you wield this ring, the more you will take on the aspects of a demon.


    "This will grant you power. More power than before with each use. But the taste of good food will dull. Music will become no more than the plucking of wires. Common pleasures will hold no further delight for you as you transform.


    "Until you have become a succubus in human form."


    Alkela closed her hand around the ring and smiled. Zigildrazia then looked to Narcissa. Raising a hand, a great axe of pure black came into it. Images of skulls and blood were on it, and Zigildrazia hurled it through the air. It sank into the ground, and the earth shuddered and cracked as it struck.


    "And to you, Narcissa, I gift the Axe of Pursuit," said Zigildrazia. "With each strike, you will drain the life of the enemy you hit. Their essence will fill you with an ecstasy beyond words. And yet, this, too, has a price. For with each person you kill, the sensation will dull a little. And it would help if you struck down more to gain the same high.


    "Of course, if you go without killing anyone for a long time, the sensation will return.


    "Thus, if you wield this axe, you must seek ever greater sensation by reaping lives." Narcissa reached out and took hold of the axe. It was cold, and she had trouble drawing it out. As she drew it out, the cracks spread. The pillars of the throne room fell inward. It collapsed around them, leaving only a throne in eternal blackness.


    Narcissa looked up to Zigildrazia. "...Thank you, Queen Zigildrizia. But why are you giving us these?"


    "I want to see what you will do," said Zigildrazia. "And I''m instead hoping that your choice will break you. And if it does, you will have no one to blame but yourself. I will have warned you ahead of time.


    "In either case, it should be an entertaining story. The world is a play, and I like to choose actors. "Speaking of which, the next act is about to begin."


    Zigildrazia raised a hand, and the void gave way to a view above the clouds. Then they were descending, and the clouds parted. Below, Narcissa saw Zigilus and the assembling legions of Dinis. The wreckage of the airship they had left lay amidst the center of the formation. They were readying new machines for war.


    Then Zigildrazia''s tails wrapped around Narcissa and Alkela. She pulled them to her, held aloft in midair.


    "Look there, my dears," said Zigildrazia. "Our enemies assemble to destroy my subjects. Long ago, I filled the void left by Safara''s departure. I took her empire''s shattered remnants and restructured it by my will.


    "Now they seek to betray me, not to her, but to her puppet masters. Thus, the Emperor sent his legions.


    "The Emperor will learn that Zigildrazia is not easily trifled with."


    "What will you do?" asked Narcissa.


    Zigildrazia stroked her hair and then directed her gaze toward the airship. "Do you know how airships are fueled? Within them lies a direct connection to my domain in the hells. If one is destroyed, the result weakens the borders between the hells and this realm. "As it turns out, many of them have been destroyed."


    She raised a hand and clenched it. As she did, the fabric of reality seemed to rip. And out of the holes poured legions of faceless things. Creatures with groping tentacles. Snakelike monsters with the heads of bugs and scythe arms. Monsters with many heads.


    They came at the legions from all sides. But the legion responded instantly and met the creatures in battle. Soon the cries of war echoed as man and demon tore each other apart in an orgy of violence. And as the blood flowed in rivers, Zigildrazia raised the Blade of Chaos. The life force of those who died below poured from the battlefield into the Blade. Its aura grew ever stronger. Narcissa heard pleased whispers from it.


    "Dinis may slay my demons," said Zigildrazia, "but in so doing, they will only fuel the Blade of Chaos. And if they are consumed, their blood will fuel it in turn. And my subjects need only watch.


    "Now, I believe a reward is due to both of you, right?"


    Then the throne vanished, and Zigildrazia rose into the air. As an aged woman, her shell fell away like a mask, and she was revealed. A red-skinned woman of unfathomable beauty, nearly eight feet tall. Her tails widened as her body evolved to dwarf Narcissa''s and Alkela''s. Lust filled their hearts as their thoughts were driven out.


    A daze fell over Narcissa as dark clouds formed beneath them. Finally, the sisters were forced down onto the clouds, and a tangle of lust and limbs began.

 Chapter Fourteen: Infiltration

    Once he had slipped away from Garacel''s armies, Sahshir wandered Zigilus. It was a strange city with twisting passages. Whenever you scale to the top of something. There always seemed to be something looming over you from higher up. There were also many statues of nubile women on street corners. And very few statues of men, which seemed odd, given the degradation of the place. It irritated Sahshir more than he''d have expected. Here, he was in the domain of lust itself. The least they could do was practice equality in their decadence.


    The eyes of these statues seemed to gaze down on him, and his mind fell into a haze of sorts. The red runes filled his thoughts with images of a seven-tailed woman, and he had to avert his eyes. He found his hands shaking beneath them and his heart beating painfully.


    Steadying his breathing, Sahshir calmed himself. Closing his eyes, he thought of tea with Kushina and training at home. Finally, the pain became manageable, and he moved onward.


    There was something strange about all this, though, he reflected as he walked among the people. And then it dawned on him. All of them were beautiful. Everyone within Zigilus would have been sought after wherever they went. Yet it was an unearthly beauty. It disturbed rather than soothed. They also wore very little in the way of clothing. What they did wear seemed more designed to draw attention to their bodies than hide them.


    It was distracting. Why did one need such beauty?


    What disturbed him further was that he could not reach Kushina. The spell in her necklace prevented him from doing so. Kashina had always been more rational between the two of them. So what did he do now? On a guess, he''d have to think things through more. Sahshir preferred to avoid thinking things through. He preferred to act impulsively. It took more work to predict and took less work.


    "The Blade of Chaos is surely within Dinis now," he said. "Or perhaps Garacel was killed in the crash? No, too much to hope for. The city is under siege now. The legions of Dinis will attack soon.


    "That will keep the enemy occupied. But if they break through it could wreck everything. What to do?"


    He remembered what he had learned about the Blade of Chaos in his youth. It was attracted to chaos. If he spread enough discord, it would call out to him. But then, that would undermine the defense of this city.


    And what could he do? Kill people? Draw his sword and start slashing every random person around him. Because they were Zigildrazians? What part had they even played in the theft of the sword, and Garacel had not done more than take it.


    He had not killed indiscriminately.


    They were already scared, scurrying around the city into their homes. Only a few remained outside by this point. It would be evil to prey on them. And when chaos and wickedness mixed, the latter came out stronger.


    He slipped into an alley and lurked in the shadows as two guards emerged. One was young, and the other was very old. But both were handsome, with fair features. It''s the older one had a more refined look to him.


    "Why would the Empire move against Zigilus, Rakan?" asked the younger. "Her Radiance put the Emperor''s ancestors in place."


    "I used to live back in the Dinis heartlands, near the capital of Narsuf," said Rakan. "Days used to be when we practiced the rites of Zigildrazia in a huge temple. But that was twenty years ago. Then, the Emperor drove us out of the temple and into the countryside. So, set it up to serve Safara, one of Baltoth''s children.


    "I heard from my grandson that he and his fellows had to go into hiding. Couldn''t practice their rights in public anymore. And the Emperor''s men were looking for them and hanging anyone they caught.


    "This is the last move, Ansof," He sighed bitterly.


    "Well, we''ll show them what it means to fight Her Radiance," said Ansof.


    "Her Radiance has already done that," said Rakan, drawing a dagger and spinning it in one hand. "But even if we destroy this army, Dinis never gives up. The Emperor will indeed send another. The Sisterhood of Safara has its coils too tightly woven around the heartlands.


    "We''ll be overwhelmed."


    "You''re always saying the worst thing that can happen, Rakan," said Ansof, eyeing the dagger. "When will you accept that things sometimes turn out for the best. Her Radiance has always been here in Zigilus. And no mortal man will dethrone her.


    "If the Emperor is so foolish, this will be his last mistake."


    "I wonder if it will be ours, too," muttered Rakan, sheathing it. "I''m sure Her Radiance shall be triumphant, of course. But those raishans out in the field, what if they win? They may turn their attention to us next. And if they don''t, we''ll have to face Dinis, Ansof. No, we''ll all be part of Her Radiance''s harem or cast into darkness at the end of this. Mark my words."


    "Either one will be much weaker for fighting the other," said Ansof. "We may yet win. I, for one, don''t mean to die today or this year.


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    "Any news about the airships?"


    "No one rightly knows that I talked to," said Rakan. "They all just flew off except one. That one went to the palace. As for the rest, probably part of some new strategy."


    They passed him by. Sahshir decided he''d had enough of wandering the streets. Taking hold of the wall, he scaled it as quickly as possible. They were rough, ancient, and not nearly as difficult as some of those he''d been trained to scale. However, as he reached the top, a hand slipped, and he fell back.


    Then, an arm grabbed him and pulled him up.


    Nayasa hauled him to the top of the roof, and Sahshir looked at her in surprise. She was clad in a black outfit meant to fade into the night, and her dagger was at her side. With her were a dozen assassins, clad for war. Sahshir recognized Ashar among them, gazing carefully on to one side. They held a long blade whetted recently with bloody. Nayasha smiled. "It has been an eventful few days, Abdul Sahshir."


    "Nayasa," said Sahshir, not letting his surprise show. "What brought you here? And how did you get here?"


    "Orders from Master Tuor," said Nayasha. "He wished me to observe here. Now that you have entered, he asked me to run interference as for how I stowed aboard one of the airships with my best men.


    "Unlike you, we weren''t caught. And we were able to rappel down into the battlefield. Once there, we scaled up the cliffs and over the wall. The fighting was an excellent distraction. Where is your Ghost Sword?"


    Sahshir remained silent for a moment. Finally, he decided to tell the truth. "Destroyed."


    Nayasha narrowed her eyes in irritation. "Do you know how difficult those are to make?"


    "It was the only means I had to destroy the airship," said Sahshir. "Without it, that distraction never would have happened." It''s better not to say that the airship was falling anyway.


    Nayasha fixed him with her gaze for a long moment. Then she looked away. Equipment is sometimes destroyed. I''m here to help you in whatever way I can. An airship is a fair trade."


    "I don''t need your help," said Sahshir.


    "I have been ordered to give it anyway," said Nayasha. "Follow me."


    "To where?" asked Sahshir.


    "There is a place not far from here," said Nayasha, pulling her hood over her head. "It is called Zarana''s Delights. It is a place of depravity. But also information. Come quickly."


    The assassins scattered in many directions as Sahshir followed Nayasha. They raced across the rooftops, leaping across the gaps like shadows beneath a torch. For some time, they went like this until, at last, Nayasha came to a halt by the edge.


    Zarana''s Delights was a large building built into the wall of a long line of stores. Most of them were closed. However, there was a great sign that flared with violet light. Sahshir looked down on the gaudy place and noted images of naked women on the wall.


    "So that is it?" he murmured.


    "Indeed," said Nayasha. "I gather it is of some spiritual significance to those within this place. Ask for Matron Zarana at the bar. She is among our contacts. Tell her that you must speak with her as a disciple."


    "And why can you not go yourself?" asked Sahshir.


    "Master Tuor has other tasks for me," said Nayasha. "Pay for your own blunders."


    "What do you-" began Sahshir.


    But Nayasha was gone. Disappeared with her men as though she''d never been there at all. Sahshir checked around him on the roofs and streets for any sign of a fleeing ninja. No such luck.


    "How does she do that?" asked Sahshir aloud.


    Then, with a shrug, he descended to the street and walked in the front door, keeping silent and to the shadows. He found the place empty save for two beautiful women. The first was taller with blonde hair, while the other was red-haired and more curvaceous. They were clad in even less than most, sitting next to poles and speaking.


    "It''s been a barren week, hasn''t it?" asked the redhead.


    "What do you expect?" asked the blonde. "None of the merchants wanted to be here when the Legions arrived. I hope Her Radiance knows what she is doing."


    "Of course, she knows what she''s doing, Ansora," said the redhead. "We exist only to serve her. She wouldn''t destroy us unless it was more entertaining than keeping us alive.


    "And I am very entertaining."


    "I know," said Ansora. "I''ve been here six months, but I keep... I get doubts..."


    "It usually takes about a sheer for them to get drowned out," said the redhead. "The runes throughout this place will wash it all away soon enough.


    "You don''t have to worry.


    "You don''t have a last name anymore. All that you are is part of the grand play of Zigildrazia. Even if we all die, we will become part of her harem. Now chin up, customers might come in."


    Ansora looked up. "A customer has come."


    They stood up quickly and made their way over, strutting seductively as they did so. Sahshir had no interest. "Oh, I''m sorry, handsome." said the redhead. "We didn''t see you come in. Why don''t you take off that mask." He wondered how they would react if he did. Probably not well, and they would know him as an intruder.


    "Can I help you?" purred Ansora as the two circled around him.


    "I wish to speak with Matron Zarana as a disciple," said Sahshir flatly.


    Ansora and the redhead looked at each other in surprise. "... She''s... she''s not here right now." said the redhead.


    "When will she return?" asked Sahshir.


    "We don''t know," said Ansora. "Maybe never. She was called up by the enforcers to answer for a crime."


    "What crime?" asked Sahshir. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, two girls lived here with us," said the redhead. "Narcissa and Alkela, really nice. Probably would have made a nice career if they''d had time to grow up.


    "But then a man named Dakan appeared.


    "He threatened Zarana. He said he would find occasion for her to be arrested if she didn''t give them to him for his own entertainment. The two of them made a run for it, though."


    That matched up perfectly with what Sahshir knew of this domain. Still, he felt curious. "What happened to them?" asked Sahshir.


    "Lord Garacel found them," said the redhead. "I guess they must have told him what happened."


    "Is there any chance she''ll return," asked Sahshir.


    "Well, they might-"began the redhead.


    And then the windows exploded inward, and monsters rushed through. As their slathering mouths approached, Sahshir thought this was really not his day.

 Chapter Fifteen: Quitting the Game

    It was a different kind of throne room Narcissa was standing in now. One was simple, whereas the other was opulent, with no gold or elaborate ivory carving on the walls. There were no rugs or tapestries. But there were six white angelic statues on either side of her. They were set in two rows of three on opposite sides of the hall. Above her, Narcissa could see a vast circular image. It showed Zigildrazia at the center, enthroned.


    Around her were the other six demonic archons. Amysta was chained to her throne by a leash, blue-skinned with blades. Fortenex held his axe high and cried a war cry, armored from head to toe in black. Typhos roared, innumerable heads and limbs stretching across the sky. Then there was Coinfurth, sitting at a desk and reading papers. Last of all, Baltoth was standing apart from the others, lion-headed and clad in white robes.


    Narcissa wondered who had made it. But it didn''t really matter right now anyway. How had she gotten here? And how did she get back, once she wanted to?


    Narcissa had been returned to her battle armor. She could remember nothing of what had happened. At least not before she was pressed into the clouds. But her body was on fire with the residual lust from it. Alkela was there, silent. Garacel stood there as well. And in the throne lounged Zigildrazia, once again in her older form.


    Narcissa felt drained.


    Then the doors opened, and Zarana entered. She looked terrified, yet Narcissa enjoyed the woman''s suffering. What was wrong with her? What had happened?


    "Matron Zarana, I can''t tell you how pleased I am that you could join us," said Zigildrazia.


    Zarana fell to her knees and prostrated herself. She did not shake in terror, and Narcissa wondered why. "Queen Zigildrazia..."


    "Now I heard some fascinating, regrettable stories," said Zigildrazia. "I''m told you were going to use these fine specimens before they were of age."


    "I... I didn''t..." Zarana gasped.


    "Oh, I can already see into your mind," said Zigildrazia. "So tell me, why did you choose to betray us?"


    "I didn''t betray us!" cried Zarana. "I was told... I had no choice?"


    "And why not?" asked Zigildrazia.


    "It was Dakan," said Zarana. "Dakan, he told me... he told me that if I didn''t give him them, he''d destroy my establishment and kill me."


    "And yet you still performed the crime," noted Zigildrazia in bemusement. "Among others.


    "Hmm, I ought to devise some punishment for Dakan. But now for you," She raised a hand.


    Zarana looked at Narcissa. Something was enjoying what was happening here, but it wasn''t her. Narcissa stepped forward, deciding she ought to try and help here. "Queen Zigildrazia, please don''t hurt her. She made a mistake but was always very kind to us."


    Zigildrazia sighed. "Oh, I''ll give you a reasonable fine and send you off. It would be a shame to lose such a source of information. After all, your contacts provided us with the location of the Blade of Chaos."


    Zarana arose. "Yes, thank you, Queen Zigildrazia. I assure you-"


    "The fine will be leveled now," said Zigildrazia.


    Zarana screamed as her left eye burst into flame. Yet it did not consume the flesh. Instead, it spread and soon covered Zarana''s entire body. Her clothes were burned away, and her skin began to shift. Horns grew from her head as a short tail sprouted from her back. Her body also changed, her hips and breasts taking on exaggerated dimensions.


    Her eyes were empty now. There was no fear or will behind them as they looked on Zigildrazia with adoration. A violet-skinned slave succubus.


    "This work of art seems to be among my better ones," said Zigildrazia. "Perhaps I''ll use it as a handmaiden of sorts. Do you want it, Narcissa?"


    Narcissa opened her mouth to make a flat refusal. But she found herself blushing. Not for anything she felt, but as though she were a puppet on strings. "Thank you, my Queen. You honor me. But... no." Something within her was screaming in malice. It desired to kill the thing that had once been Zarana.


    It was controlled.


    "Well then, we may consider the debt settled," said Zigildrazia.


    Narcissa wanted to rage. But she could not even feel angry at Zigildrazia. Instead, her mind was thinking about how wise and powerful she was. And how generous to give the thing which had been Zarana to her.


    Then there was the part beneath it that was screaming. But it wasn''t Narcissa. Because Zarana meant nothing to this thing. It was angry because it was controlled, not because of what that control meant. It whispered to Narcissa that it could give her the power to control herself. And to counteract the will of Zigildrazia.


    "As for Dakan..." said Zigildrazia. "Do you have anything to say about this?"


    Dakan emerged from the shadows. He did not look afraid. If nothing else, Narcissa could watch him die.


    "Yes, I made the request," said Dakan. "Is that a problem?"


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    Then Narcissa felt the rage she could not think towards Zigildrazia. Her axe was in her hand at once, which Zigildrazia had given her. She surged toward Dakan, swinging it around.


    But he brought around both hands and caught the axe by the haft.


    And then both of them separated. They had no will in it. Zigildrazia''s tails took hold of Narcissa and drew her up so they were face to face. "I shouldn''t be too quick to bring violence into this place, Narcissa. Or I may get violent with you. I''d probably enjoy that, but you wouldn''t." She set one clawed hand so it was an inch from Narcissa''s eye. Then she tossed Narcissa aside and drew herself up. "Now, I must punish Dakan to prevent repeating these events. An example must be set for the greater good.


    "Unfortunately, I don''t care.


    "Well, I''ll warn you and pretend nothing happened."


    "My-" began Dakan, a smug smile on his face.


    And then Zigildrazia surged forward and drove her right hand through Dakan''s chest, her claws piercing his coat. He gasped as she dragged out his heart, blood seeping over his green jacket. And yet, even as her hand was removed, the flesh closed behind it to leave a rapidly drying stain. He looked at its own dead heart as Zigildrazia crushed it and screamed.


    Clenching his chest, Dakan screamed in horror as blood poured out of his eyes. Then, shuddering in place, he fell to his knees, gasping. Had it regrown already? Queen Zigildrazia really was amazing, wasn¡¯t she?


    "You may consider this it," said Zigildrazia. "Flaunt my laws again, Dakkan, and I won''t restore your heart when I pull it out next. Are we clear?"


    "Y-yes..." gasped Dakan. "Of course, your radiance. It will not happen again."


    "Good. I''m glad we had this talk," said Zigildrazia. "Now, perhaps we can move on to the next matter on the agenda. Garacel, how would you say the Blade of Chaos is progressing?"


    "The battle outside Zigilus is winding down, Your Radiance," said Garacel. "It seems that the legions of Dinis are the victor. They have taken many casualties, and the life force is being used to replace our losses. However, more reinforcements have arrived.


    "It seems the Emperor anticipated stiff resistance. Or perhaps it was the Disciple of Baltoth who anticipated as much."


    "Do you believe we''ll hold?" asked Zigildrazia.


    "I can promise you to take this city will be the end of many legions," said Garacel. "Certainly, we will meet our quota. However, Tuor will soon come to reclaim the sword. He may succeed."


    "And that would leave the Emperor weaker. It would force him to rely on my dear brother Baltoth," noted Zigildrazia. "My, this is a poser. What of your strategy?"


    "As we speak," said Garacel, "the most valuable of the citizens of Zigilus have been evacuated. Artisans, craftsmen, powerful warriors. Though some have refused the summons."


    "How nice of them," said Zigildrazia. "Very well, then. Open the portals."


    "Portals?" said Narcissa. "What portals?"


    "The portals I have been prepared to open for when Zigilus was lost," said Zigildrazia. She leaned back in her throne and stretched out her arms and tails. "Well, this Zigilus anyway. It was a new idea. I have been breeding this city and its inhabitants for my own purposes. They are infused with my will from birth and yet possess choices of their own.


    "They are universally beautiful. And yet they have no conception of any beauty save mine. The population has reached a stage where they are what I want from all my subjects. But, unfortunately, all too soon, they will... degenerate. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "That''s what happened to the first Zigilus. A city of pleasure and beauty, loyal, no, revolving around me. But when it reached its zenith, it began to decay. It fell victim to the vices it used and became little more than a brothel.


    "No, best to cut things off here. Those worthy will become demons in my service. Those unworthy will be reincarnated in the bloodlines of the survivors. And the orgy of bloodshed will undoubtedly fill our quota for the Blade of Chaos. All without having to worry about destroying the Emperor."


    "But..." Narcissa felt resistance herself. "What about the people?"


    "Oh, they''ll all die," said Zigildrazia. "I wouldn''t worry. Mortal life is worthless. It''s the work you put in that gives an existence value. Most people die dozens of times before going to one afterlife or another. Some hundreds.


    "It''s more a momentary inconvenience than a true problem."


    "Why can''t we just kill the legion?" asked Narcissa.


    "Dear, didn''t you listen?" asked Zigildrazia. "I should go into greater depth. Very well. The Emperor is selling out to Baltoth. However, I already have plans to supplant him with a new emperor who is favorable to me.


    "Unfortunately, if we force a protracted siege, it could be years before it ends. No doubt, rebellions would crop up in the provinces and weaken the empire we were taking control of. Much better to get the whole thing over with."


    "But that''s horrible!" said Narcissa.


    "Have you ever been in a city under siege?" asked Garacel flatly.


    "No," said Narcissa.


    "It starts out unpleasant," said Garacel in bitterness. "Food is short. Arrows fly over the walls. Flaming stones land in buildings. Then things get bad. Food gets ever scarcer. People eat dogs. Leather. Then each other. Plagues break out with everyone in such close quarters.


    "It''s an immensely nasty process. And chances are, at the end, everyone here would be killed by the enraged legions."


    "Frankly, we''re doing everyone here a favor by cutting the endless misery. We''re giving them a swift death," said Zigildrazia. "They''ll thank us in the next life."


    "But... but you''ll be killing them," said Narcissa. Zigildrazia could not be wrong. Yet Narcissa felt like she was. What was this?


    Zigildrazia sighed and moved a hand through the air dismissively. "Oh, very well. We could have some fun with this. I''ll open one or two portals and gradually scale things up. You and Alkela can spend that time defending the innocent and fighting demons.


    "It should be an amusing diversion. Have fun."


    "This seems like a complete waste of resources, Your Radiance," said Garacel.


    "I know, isn''t it?" asked Zigildrazia with a smile.


    "This is wrong," realized Narcissa. "You are wrong."


    Zigildrazia laughed and clasped taloned fingers together while crossing one perfect leg over another. She was so beautiful. "My dear, I am the hardworking and homely manifestation of lust and sloth. Which of those qualities makes me a good person?


    "I''ll unleash the portals over Zarana''s establishment in ten minutes."


    There wasn''t anything else to say. Narcissa raised her hammer and looked at her sister. "Come on, Alkela."


    They ran through the portal.


    "Have fun playing hero, my dears!" called Zigildrazia as they rushed out the door.


    Narcissa was really starting to hate this.


    Then, the voice within her reminded her that she had nearly forgotten Zarana. The woman who raised her and Narcissa had barely remembered her moments after her death. What was this? Narcissa had always been this way. It was how things were supposed to be. So why did it feel wrong?


    It did not matter.


    Narcissa had demons to slay.

 Chapter Sixteen: Possession

    Narcissa and Alkela were racing through the streets. The fact that they looked good doing it didn''t help for once. No amount of leather or cleavage could make up for what was about to happen. And no one was around to appreciate them anyway. As they did, they saw the portal opening. Reality seemed to peel back, and many spheres of light came out. As they crossed the threshold, the lights transformed into flying beasts. They had the wings of bats, the claws of lizards, and the heads of vultures. And their features were all black with red eyes. They swooped down into the street, and Narcissa saw them begin tearing at the windows.


    Narcissa hurled her axe, spinning through the air before she could think. It cleaved through the creature and returned to her hand. As Narcissa caught it, she felt a rush of exhilaration. It felt good to kill this thing.


    Then, the others came swarming toward her. But Narcissa seemed to move off her own accord. She felt herself wielding her axe like one possessed. She was performing the moves she had been taught with absolute ease. And with each stroke, she felt power surge through her veins. Vaguely, she was aware of Alkela darting back and forth, crushing enemies with her fists. Sis seemed to enjoy herself, but there was always more to kill.


    Strange snakelike beasts were landing in the streets. They had the heads of beetles and scythed arms that rent flesh. The city guard was fighting with them, but their movements seemed slow. The will of Zigildrazia had left them. She desired their defeat.


    Screams sounded throughout the city. Among them were the cries of children.


    "What is going on here?" thought Narcissa as she cleaved down. "Why is she doing this?" She knew why.


    It was some combination of flippancy, spite, and a lack of real caring. Zigilus meant nothing to her. So she had condemned it the moment it had become inconvenient. But... Zigildrazia couldn''t be so petty, could she?


    The sensation of death filling Narcissa''s body drowned out her doubts. She fought harder, forcing herself to move. Forcing herself to kill one of the snakes as it tried to consume a guardsman.


    "Stand up!" she yelled as she hacked down two more. "Stand up and fight! Don''t let them kill you!"


    It wasn''t inspiring. And Narcissa felt something bite into her shoulder. One of the vultures had stabbed her and was bearing her down. But Alkela was on it and pulled it back, snapping its neck. Even as it fell back, Narcissa found energy coursing through her flesh. It healed before her eyes, and she rose to fight again.


    So the fighting went on.


    Fires began in several parts of the city. The raishans rushed to attack those who tried to put them out, and it was all they could do to hold the line. Eventually, they found themselves in front of Zarana''s Delights.


    Dozens of raishan corpses lay around the entrance. The windows had been smashed in. Within, Narcissa could see furniture crushed and broken. Narcissa stared. Part of her was laughing. These people who had tried to take advantage of her were now consumed. It was hilarious. But Alkela rushed on through with a fearful expression.


    Narcissa ran after her.


    They entered the main room and found tables and chairs upset and smashed around them. The drinks on the bar were shattered, and broken glass lines on the floor.


    But there were no corpses?


    Then, two familiar faces looked up from the bar. "Narcissa, Alkela, is that you?"


    Narcissa flinched. "Sera? Ansora? What''s going on here?"


    "Raishans started coming from nowhere," said Sera. "They would have killed us if it wasn''t for that customer."


    "Customer?" asked Narcissa. "Who?"


    "He didn''t say his name," said Sera. "But he wore a mask, and the flesh around his eyes was mottled. So he couldn''t have been from Zigilus."


    "He wielded a katana and held himself like a soldier," said Ansora. "When the raishans came, he killed them. Then he went out and started hunting them.


    "But-"


    And then there was a feral snarling. Narcissa turned to see a massive wolf with antlers rushing through and leaping at her. Spinning around her axe, she brought it down to cleave the creature''s skull with one blow. The force nearly jarred the weapon from her hands, but it was done.


    More of them.


    "Stay hidden," said Narcissa. "Get together your things and get your families and anyone else you can! Then, head for the Sanctum of Zigildrazia and ask for Illaryus. Tell him Narcissa sent you."


    "But Matron Zarana-" said Sera.


    "She''s dead," lied Narcissa. "Zigildrazia killed her and said the debt was settled. That bastard Dakan got off with a slap on the wrist. This entire city is going to be consumed soon.


    "But you''ve got to get out of here with anyone who will follow you."


    "But we belong to Zigildrazia," said Sera.


    Narcissa felt a surge of contempt for this empty-eyed creature. She should kill her where she stood. But, no, no, she''d known Sera for years. "She wants you to get out. Believe me, she wants you to get out. Now go quickly.


    "Alkela and I will deal with the raishans."


    Then they rushed out into the streets and found more raishans waiting. They ran to fight them. As they did, Narcissa began to fade. She felt less and less herself and more like someone else. Blood spilled over her as she hacked and slashed. Her flesh was torn, only to recover. And Narcissa felt joy at how these lesser creatures had their skulls and limbs crushed. Happiness at the bodies around her, raishan and mortal alike.


    Joy at the deaths. Joy at the killing. At the suffering that was happening. If only some children would scream in the background. That would make this perfect. If only she were killing her sisters'' slaves instead of protecting them...


    Then, these thoughts began to fade. Narcissa became aware that she was no longer with Alkela. Instead, she was fighting alongside a familiar figure clad all in black. He wielded the Sword of Order to carve down one raishan after another. She did so with a speed and intensity Narcissa could not match. He was the faster, but she kept him at a distance. When he ducked past a stroke of her axe, she vaulted over him, using it as a pole. Landing, she spun around and went for his neck. Yet he ducked under it and spun around to slash at her again.


    Backing away, she warded off several strikes and spun her axe to a defensive position.


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    What was she doing?


    There was no bloodlust in his strikes. But he might be of use.


    There came an end to the combat. The street had gone dead and silent. Narcissa turned to him, leaning on her axe while putting out one hip. "So, I''m guessing you''re the mysterious patron my friends talked about. You''re halfway decent at all this.


    "So, who exactly are you supposed to be?"


    The man halted and did not even look at anything other than her face. He merely sheathed his sword in a smooth movement. "I am Abdul Sahshir. I''m looking for someone."


    "A lot of people are looking for someone," said Narcissa. "Sometimes, they even find them. But they only sometimes like what happens once they do.


    "So, handsome, who are you looking for?" She put forth her will to try and grasp his as she had Narcissa''s. As she did, she leaned forward to show off her breasts to absolutely no effect.


    She got his attention, at least. "...Garacel."


    "Oh, him," said Narcissa. "Well, you''ll definitely regret finding him. The man can''t be killed." Her memory turned to her training in better days.


    "You don''t seem stable," said Sahshir.


    "Maybe I''m not," said Narcissa, smiling. "Either way, if you want to avenge yourself on Garacel, you should head for the Sanctum of Zigildrazia. After all, it worked out so well for you last time."


    "Who are you?" asked Sahshir.


    "I don''t blame you for not recognizing me," said Narcissa. "Last time, I was wearing something a lot less comfortable."


    Alkela landed next to her. Sahshir set a hand to his blade. Then, the portal above widened, and the monsters poured in ever greater numbers.


    The battle began anew, and Narcissa rushed to it in glee. She hewed down one enemy after another, carving through them like a hot scythe through wheat. Finally, none could stand before her. "Yes!" she screamed as she hacked her way through several. "Die! Die all of you!"


    Such was the carnage she spread that the raishans were drawn to her like moths to a flame. And they were consumed just as quickly. Sahshir had left on his own at some point, so the sisters fought alone. Every wave was cut down with ease. Narcissa felt as though she was merely an extension of something greater.


    And extension that was growing in power. She''ll kill all these raishans, the legions, and these miserable mortals. They''d all die!


    Then Alkela slapped her.


    Clarity returned. As she finished another wave, she fell to one knee. Her body was thrumming with pleasure. And yet she was not exhausted. She looked at the axe she had been wielding and saw it glowing red. She tried to throw it away, but it would not leave her hand. She stepped back. "I''ve got to get rid of this axe."


    She noticed Alkela above donning the ring. Narcissa quickly caught her hand. "No, don''t.


    "We can''t use these, Alkela. They''ll get in our heads, drive us insane." She looked around. The flames were being contained, and the fighting had moved from this section of the city. "I''m going to go get my old axe back. Hold down the fort, and don''t put that ring on no matter what happens." Why would this be affecting her? "I need to check something."


    On the way, Narcissa passed many bodies. Wherever she walked, corpses could be seen. But the buildings were empty; doors and windows were hanging open. Occasionally, she found guards standing among the smoldering wreckage.


    And in the distance, Narcissa saw that the Sanctum was teeming with people who had fled into it. Raishans were clustering around the gates but dared not pass the threshold. Finally, Illaryus emerged from the crowds, limping forward.


    Setting a hand to his scimitar, he brought it out and slashed.


    There seemed to be a wave, and the creatures fled before him. Narcissa moved to meet him, and he smiled. "Narcissa, you have returned. How may we help you?"


    "I need to get my axe back," said Narcissa. "I left it here. And I need your help with something. Something... something is happening to me."


    Illaryus remained silent for a moment. "Well, we''d best go to the library, then."


    They had to go through many terrified people to get to the library. The priests tended to the wounded as best they could, inspiring regeneration. Narcissa saw a child reunited with her mother.


    She wondered how all this fit into being Zigildrazia''s tool. She asked if she wanted it to. Why was she paying heed to these worms? They were beneath her!


    Narcissa remained silent as they entered the library. Here, in this place, there were hundreds upon hundreds of books available for reading. Some were forbidden for any save the priests. Others were available to the public.


    "Now, my dear girl, you''ve had some trouble, haven''t you?" said Illaryus.


    "Yes, I..." Narcissa paused, hesitating to speak. "I''ve found that something is surfacing inside me, and when it does... I want to hurt people. I feel like I may lose myself in it."


    "Well, that is a risk to our profession," said Illaryus. "We are extensions of the will of Zigildrazia. By becoming such, we gain powers and abilities that would take years to master otherwise.


    "But, we are attuned to her will."


    "It isn''t that, though," said Narcissa. "I feel like... like there is something else growing inside me. A different person."


    Illaryus frowned. "Ah. In that case, we''d best consult the bloodline records." He went over to a shelf, scaled quickly up a ladder, and took out a book. Sliding down, he set it on a table and opened it. "Now, your father was Esmond, was he not?"


    "Yes," said Narcissa.


    "And your mother?" asked Illaryus.


    "Areya," said Narcissa. Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Illaryus sorted through the bloodlines little by little. His eyes glazed over as his fingers went from one to another. "Did they have family names?"


    Narcissa felt like something was looking through her as much as the book. "No. They were native to Zigilus."


    "Ah, of course," said Illaryus. "Family names are uncommon among the lower orders, I''m told. I never had one myself."


    "Why is that?" asked Narcissa before realizing she''d asked a stupid question. "I mean, why do other people have family names?"


    "Family names provide a sense of identity beyond who you are," said Illaryus. "I gather they are used for legal matters. However, we are all, at our base nature, extensions of Zigildrazia. So we have no need for them.


    "Besides, it is Her Radiance''s will that citizens remove them. One moment." He came to some names. "Hmm, very interesting."


    "What is it?" asked Narcissa.


    "You are descended from Her Raidance, but the line is not as strong as we thought," said Illaryus.


    "What do you mean?" asked Narcissa.


    "Your ancestors were born from one of Amysta''s daughters on one side. The other was from Zigildrazia''s grandsons," said Illaryus. "Thus, Amysta''s blood is stronger in you."


    "But Amysta is dead," said Narcissa.


    "True," conceded Illaryus. "But her essence was absorbed into Zigildrazia, even if her spirit is gone. Thus, in a sense, you are descended from Her Radiance through two sources."


    "What do you mean ''her spirit is gone?''" Narcissa asked. "You taught me that killing a soul is impossible."


    "It is," said Illaryus. "Or so we believe, at any rate. Impossible and possibly vary by age. But after Amysta realized she was doomed, she performed a ritual. We do not know the exact details, but somehow, she divided her spirit and sent it away. It is similar to what was done with the Demon King Diabolus long ago.


    "We have never found the pieces, despite our best efforts."


    Narcissa remained silent. King Diabolus was a figure in every mythology she''d read about. Yet very little was available to her on him. "What does this have to do with me?"


    "Quite a bit, potentially," said Illaryus. "There are many theories. Some say that she found some means to obliterate herself. Others that she exists in the subconscious of Her Radiance.


    "However, I believe she imparted her spirit to some of her descendants. Perhaps as part of some plan to engineer her resurrection.


    "If she did so, and her will were to return to power, over time, she could consume the spirit of whoever she inhabited."


    "You knew about this before, didn''t you?" asked Narcissa.


    "Forgive this old man his parlor tricks, will you?" asked Illaryus. "But I have done my research. I didn''t think it was relevant until now.


    "Whatever our bloodlines, we all serve Her Radiance.


    "Is there anything else I can help you with?"


    Amysta was within her. Narcissa could feel her now, rising up to take on dominance over her spirit. In an instant, she found herself someone else. "No, nothing right now.


    "Thank you. You''ve been of immense help to me, priest."


    "You know my name, Narcissa," said Illaryus.


    "Of course," said Narcissa. "Sorry, Illaryus, I''ve gone through a revelation."


    Then there was nothing.

 Chapter Seventeen: Manifestation

    Sahshir had been fighting for hours.


    Sweat dripped down his whole form as he fell to a kneel by a statue of Zigildrazia. His entire body ached with the pain of exertion. Around him were many dead monsters, and on his body were many more minor cuts, made worse by the numbing. However, this area was clear for now.


    And yet he could see yet more creatures descending to aid them. On and on, the horrors came in a neverending tide, and for all his efforts, he could not stem it. It was a depressing reality that he had no intention of letting interfere with his actions.


    Nayasha landed by him as he bandaged himself, crouching low with a blade spinning in her hand. Rising up, she approached quickly, and her expression had only a slight tinge of relief. Sahshir wondered if she ever showed emotion. "Sahshir, you''re still alive." S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "For the moment," said Sahshir, examining one gloved hand. "These creatures come without end."


    "They are not really dying, for the most part," said Nayasha, technical as always. "When slain, their spirits merely return to the hells to be reformed. Only divine power, such as the Sword of Order, can permanently destroy them.


    "And they have grown in number.


    "What you are doing is hopeless, Sahshir. Even if you were to eradicate all the raishans, the legions would only burn the place."


    "I know," said Sahshir, deciding on a change of strategy. Most of the people were off the streets anyway by now. "I must go to the Sanctum of Zigildrazia."


    "The Sanctum of Zigildrazia?" asked Nayasha. "To what end?"


    "That is where I will find Garacel," said Sahshir.


    "Killing Garacel is just as hopeless," said Nayasha. "Our priority should be to retrieve the Blade of Chaos."


    "I will do so over his corpse," said Sahshir. Or, more likely, die. But his disease would claim him in a few years anyway, so there was no loss.


    "If you try to kill Garacel as you are now, you will die," said Nayasha. "You will be killed, and you will die for nothing.


    "We must use caution." She drew out a flask. "Now drink this. It should help with your injuries." Sahshir unstoppered it and drank deeply. The taste was sweet, oddly enough. He still felt bone-weary, but the pain of his cuts disappeared. Instead, warmth filled his limbs, and he forgot his agony.


    "Very well, then. What do you suggest?"


    "I am going to open the gates for the legions of Dinis," said Nayasha, glancing toward the distant walls. "I have already made arrangements with them."


    "Will that help?" asked Sahshir. He was honestly curious about what the agenda was here.


    "They came prepared to fight raishans," said Nayasha. "With luck, they will be able to purge them. And they may not kill everyone in the city." Truly, Nayasha was aiming for the stars in her plans.


    "Why is this happening?" asked Sahshir, liking this less and less.


    "The Blade of Chaos has broken the borders between dimensions," said Nayasha. "Zigilus is going to be destroyed."


    "Unless I retrieve it," said Sahshir. "Not all within this place are evil. I won''t let them die for Garacel''s actions."


    He pulled himself up and sheathed his blade. Nayasha looked at him hard for a moment. Then, finally, she sighed and scaled up the building without a word. She disappeared into the night.


    Sahshir made his way through the devastated streets, observing the broken stalls. There were bodies here or there and broken windows. As he walked, he drew the Sword of Order and gazed at his reflection. The flesh around his eyes showed the edge of his face. Why was he thinking of his hideousness now?


    Perhaps it was the city around him. Every person here was beautiful. But they all died the same. So likewise, whether he triumphed or was laid into the cold earth, his fate would be the same. All things died, and most things died gruesomely. So, to die defending innocent people seemed far from the worst way to pass from this world.


    "So, whose bloodline do you belong to anyway?" asked a voice.


    Sahshir glanced up to see Narcissa, that woman from before. However, there was something different about her. She was leaning against a wall, her axe in hand. Why did Zigildrazia cloth her people in such absurd outfits anyway? "You''re far too good at this to be mortal."


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    "I am a Prince of Kalthak," said Sahshir. "I serve Baltoth, the Inexorable Lord of Order."


    "That''s evading the question," said the woman. "You can talk about how training and hard work are the keys to success. But they are just a means to unlock the power you already have. All things that exist have an innate nature that cannot be defied.


    "We all have a set potential. The only thing we control is whether we live up to it."


    "Who are you?" asked Sahshir.


    "I told you my name once before," said Narcissa. "Though I''m not sure even I belong to it. Names are just another kind of mask, you see. They can''t really encompass who we are.


    "I have some information for you. Within the Sanctum of Zigildrazia, a path leads into her domain. Within that place, there are many treasures. Have you heard of the Grail of Immortality?"


    "I have," said Sahshir.


    "Well, I desire it," said Narcissa. "Get me it, and I will lead you directly to Garacel. For I know Zigildrazia''s palace well."


    "Why do you want it?" asked Sahshir.


    "When someone drinks from the Grail, their consciousness manifests again. They appear in later lives. No matter how often they are killed, they will return," said Narcissa. "I desire that immortality for my own ends."


    Sahshir remained silent. "You are different from before."


    "Of course," said Narcissa. "More of myself has manifested. The identity of this body is but a small part of my full self. I want you to take me with you when you leave this place."


    "Why?" asked Sahshir.


    "I doubt that Zigildrazia will take kindly to what I''ve revealed here today," said Narcissa.


    Sahshir remained silent for a long moment. It was the only option he had. "...So be it. Show me the way."


    "I''m glad we have an understanding," said Narcissa.


    Then, she drew a black cloak and threw it to him as if from nowhere. He caught it in one hand and raised an eyebrow. "A cloak?"


    "Yes," said Narcissa. "All of the monks wear these."


    "Is it not a sanctum of lust?" asked Sahshir, surprised.


    "Those who serve Zigildrazia are expected to limit their consumption," said Narcissa. "Zigildrazia teaches us that pleasure is best when one must work to get it.


    "She is a sea of contradictions. Now come."


    Sahshir donned the robe, and they walked.


    Soon, they came to the Sanctum and found the gates unbarred. Making their way into the area, they found that people were filing into a passage. It had opened where the altar should be.


    "This is the main sanctum," said Narcissa. "Even as we speak, Zigildrazia''s priests are evacuating the population from the city. Or some of it, at any rate."


    "To what end?" asked Sahshir.


    "To rebuild it when the time comes," said Narcissa. "They won''t even blame her when this is over. These animals regard themselves as no more than cogs in a machine. They identify as lambs to the slaughter."


    They descended into the passage and found no one around. They walked down drab halls with many twists and turns. Sahshir kept his hand near his sword as they walked. Soon, they came to many statues of men and women with agonized expressions on their faces. They had terrible wounds and seemed to be squirming in pain.


    "Who are these?" he asked.


    "Those statues watch all who walk within this place," said Narcissa. "Fortunately, I created them and have the means to blind them."


    "You?" asked Sahshir, now convinced she was possessed.


    "Narcissa is no older than you are," said the woman. "For my part, I am far older and grander. Come, this is the way.


    "There is an ancient passage beneath this Sanctum. One that once belonged to me. That will lead us to the Grail of Immortality.


    "Here we go."


    Sahshir stopped. He had been far too trusting so far. "Who are you?"


    "I am Amysta." said the woman. "Sister to your god and Zigildrazia. The blood of my descendants calls out for my return. And it shall be satiated."


    "Amysta? You died many ages ago," noted Sahshir.


    "Yes. I did," said Amysta. "Zigildrazia betrayed me. She drove me to act against her and turned my subordinate, Melchious, against me."


    Sahshir felt a chill at the name of Melchious. "I have heard of Melchious. The Demon of Cruelty has no place in Calisha."


    "Yes, he mostly concerns himself with the west," said Amysta. "With blood and death. He never had much ambition. But he had just enough stupid malice to play to Zigildrazia''s tune."


    "And what do you intend to do once you have the Grail of Immortality?" asked Sahshir.


    "Drink from it, of course," said Amysta. "Once I have done so, my spirit shall be bound within the world''s confines. None will be able to banish me or cast me out.


    "From there, I will be able to plan the downfall of all my enemies. They will not be able to seal me or permanently destroy me."


    "And what will happen to the girl, Narcissa?" asked Sahshir.


    "Does it truly matter?" asked Amysta. "My spirit has been growing within her for some years. She has almost no will, so taking control was a simple matter. Still, I rather enjoy this body.


    "It has an appealing decadence from my blood, yet there is an innocence I would relish destroying."


    "You are of the old kind of demon," realized Sahshir.


    Amysta glanced up in surprise as they approached a glass corridor. Darkness was on the other side. "Old kind?"


    "Baltoth teaches us that in ancient times, demons were ruled by Diabolus. The King of Demons," said Sahshir. "From him came the Seven Demonic Archons. And yet, through his firstborn, Baltoth was the supreme deity made manifest. Baltoth engineered his overthrow and took his place as supreme Lord of Order.


    "His teachings led to demons becoming a great power in their own right. Yet some still cling to the old ways, of destruction and sin for its own sake."


    Amysta laughed. "Baltoth always did enjoy rewriting history. The overthrow of Diabolus was my design, as were all things. The others merely believed themselves in charge. Had I not been surrounded by fools and traitors, I should have conquered this universe long ago."


    "Of course," said Sahshir. Her arrogance made him believe otherwise.


    "Do you doubt me?" asked Amysta, eyes flashing.


    "Of course," said Sahshir flatly.


    Amysta halted by the glass corridor. "No matter. What you believe does not matter. The Grail of Immortality lies beyond.


    "But be warned. Do not drink from it unless you wish to be changed forever.


    "To be bound to the world means you can never go to any afterlife. The weak-minded often falter. And you seem to me a weakminded sort."


    "I will take the grail in the name of Baltoth," said Sahshir. "And I shall drink of it only by his will, for my purpose is to serve in his machinations."


    "In that case, my judgment of you was correct," said Amysta.


    "Why do you need me?" asked Sahshir.


    Amysta shrugged. "I will need allies to reclaim my glory. He will owe me a favor if I provide Baltoth with the Grail of Immortality. Thus, I can gain his help in my plans.


    "That," She tapped one high-heeled foot against the glass. "And the Grail is not undefended."


    The glass shattered, and out of it came monstrous things with many tentacles. They screeched, and their voice was like the screams of tortured maidens.

 Chapter Eighteen: Order and Chaos

    The beasts surged at them, shrieking.


    Sahshir stepped aside from the lunging tentacles and removed his blade to cut them down. Amysta drew out her axe and cleaved one in half as he did. Yet the two body pieces merely separated and continued clambering toward them. Sahshir slashed through one with the Sword of Order, and it screamed. As it did, the body bubbled and fell into nothingness.


    The creatures withdrew for a time, but Sahshir found the hallway had changed. It was now a place of ancient stone and clinging slime. "What are these creatures?"


    "A particular creation of mine," said Amysta as she walked on, axe propped over one shoulder. "I formed them from fusing the souls of hundreds of rapists into a single tormented mass. They are in constant agony as their souls tear at each other. Their only escape from that is to find more prey. So I found great entertainment feeding young maidens to them.


    "My sister called it wasteful. But seeing those maidens broken and gradually merged into the beasts was no waste. Their spirits gradually twisted into mere extensions of the monster''s will."


    Amysta was a monster, even among the worst demons. That much was clear. Sahshir thought of human bodies being warped and twisted and felt bile in his throat. No wonder she had been overthrown.


    As they walked through the halls, the creatures would come at them. Every so often, they''d have to stop to fight them off. And there were always more where they came from.


    "How is it that these creatures reform when you slay them?" asked Sahshir.


    Amysta smiled proudly. "Most raishans are only formed from one soul, at most. Either that or they are automatons created from lifeforce. But my tentalus are made by forcing souls to occupy the same place.


    "Even if you kill one, the other souls can seize control of the broken body parts and use them against you. Quite brilliant if I do say so myself."


    "With such talent, I wonder why Melchious turned on you?" noted Sahshir with sarcasm.


    "He was always far too softhearted for his own good," snapped Amysta. "Always limiting himself to breaking bodies and spirits. He never had the stomach for torments, though he could have been the best if he had."


    Sahshir had been considering things. This monster needed to be stopped. He doubted Baltoth would have any use for her. And to let her maintain a permanent presence in the world was unthinkable. But if he were to kill her here, he would not be able to find Garacel. Then again, Garacel would probably kill him in the first place. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He should just steal the Grail of Immortality and cut his losses. That alone would be a significant achievement and would provide some moderate revenge. He also might survive stealing it.


    With that decided, they came into a large round chamber. Stained glass windows surrounded it, showing beautiful images of gods and demons. There were thousands upon thousands of pictures in every shape and size. How many stories were told here?


    This was an actual work of art. The tales of all the races stretched out around him. They all lead toward a singular destination. It stood there, upon an altar, the culmination of all stories. Finally, the Grail of Immortality was resting on a stone hand. It was a dull brown cup, like that a carpenter might drink from. Amysta walked forward and reached for it.


    Sahshir prepared to strike. He would cut her head from her shoulders as soon as she had her hands on the cup, not her weapon. After that, it would be a mercy to her host and justice for her. But as Amysta touched the Grail, her hand passed through it.


    A light began to emanate from it, and that light spread to her fingers. Amysta raised her hand as it became translucent, pouring through her. Then, letting out a scream, she fell backward and hit the ground with a thud.


    What had happened here?


    Amysta rose, but her posture was different, submissive instead of proud. She looked at Sahshir without recognition. Somehow, the Grail has driven Amysta from Narcissa''s spirit. There was no need to kill her now.


    "You..." began Narcissa.


    She grasped for her axe, but Sahshir knocked it aside before bringing up his sword and setting it to her throat. "When they find you, say you fell defending the Grail."


    Then he dealt her a precision strike to the neck, sending her unconscious. She slumped to the ground, and Sahshir stepped over her. Reaching out, he took hold of the Grail and was filled with an unworldly power. It surged through him ultimately, and he felt a sensation in parts of his skin that had gone numb years ago.


    He raised the cup and wondered why he was seeking the Grail?


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    It was for the glory of Baltoth.


    But why did he seek that?


    The answer was obvious. He existed to serve Baltoth like all others within Calisha. His whole life was dedicated to his service and the service of Order.


    But what if the two were at odds? What if Baltoth became a source of chaos?


    The answer was clear. Then Sahshir would serve Baltoth. For he was Inexorable, and Sahshir had sworn himself to his service.


    The Grail seemed to search through him. Finally, it relented, and he took it from the altar. At last, it was him, warmly held in one hand.


    Now it was time to get out.


    Sheathing his sword, he picked up Narcissa and slung her over one shoulder. If he left her here, the tentalus would devour her, and he didn''t like the idea of feeding the beasts. Picking up her axe, he brought her through the halls. Yet they were different now. The slime was gone, and he saw all manner of strange images.


    When he reached the crossroads he had come to with Amysta, he kneeled and set Narcissa down. Then, drawing his sword again, he went up the stairs and back into the altar hall. And he found an older man waiting for him. In his hand was a katana of his own, and though he was bent with age, he took a stance as soon as Sahshir saw him. "Hold where you are, thief!"


    "So, one more fool," said Sahshir. "That fool Narcissa could not halt me. And you imagine you can. No matter."


    "Narcissa?" said the old man. "You will pay for harming that girl!"


    Then he surged forward. They passed each other, but neither of their blades found their mark. Turning around, Sahshir found himself driven back across the altar hall.


    Sahshir halted his retreat and locked blades with the older man. He saw the priest smiling wildly. And he could not overpower his guard. "You are a skilled old man."


    "And you are spry for a leper." said the old man. "I was a Battleluster for years. Do you think I lived to old age by mending flesh?" Then, with a mighty shove, Sahshir was sent stumbling back. But he let himself fall and somersaulted backward, setting the Grail on the ground as he did so.


    As the old man pursued, Sahshir rolled aside from him and brought his sword at his neck. But the blade did not find its mark, and he was forced on the defensive again. Finally, they halted a few feet away from each other.


    "I can see it is not so," said Sahshir. "But old age consumes all. For in the words of Baltoth, Time is the ultimate adversary. It will overtake you."


    "Not today," said the old man.


    Their blades met for a moment, and then they passed each other. For a moment, they were still. Then, the old man''s sword broke in twain from a clean cut. He fell to one knee, breathing heavily. And then, through the door, came another figure. She was identical to Narcissa but with shorter hair. She surged at Sahshir with a mace, and he ducked and weaved beneath her onslaught. Then, ducking around one of the pillars near the edge of the room, he flinched as the pillar shattered.


    The girl surged toward him, and he barely halted her mace with the Sword of Order. "You resemble that girl. A relation," guessed Sahshir. "No matter."


    Catching her wrist, he slammed an elbow into her and knocked the mace from her hands. She recovered and put on a ring even as she fell back. From there, she took a stance with her bare hands.


    Sahshir scoffed. "You would fight me barehanded? Then you are-" He was punched in the chest and sent flying backward. He barely adjusted himself to spin around the pillar instead of smashing into it. Then, landing, he slashed at the charging woman. She leaped over it and brought a double-handed smash toward him.


    Sahshir spun away and yielded ground. "-significantly more dangerous than I judged."


    "I see you have learned much under Lord Garacel, Alkela," said the old man. "Hold him at bay. I must see to your sister."


    Sahshir could still win this. He was faster. If he kept on the defensive, sooner or later, she would tire. Then-


    Alkela broke a pillar in half and threw it at him like a javelin. Time to leave.


    Sahshir ran for it, hardly ducking in time to avoid being crushed. Then, sprinting to the doors, he threw them open and fled into the empty streets. At least he had the Grail of Immortality now.


    And then raishans appeared.


    Lots of raishans.


    With only one hand, he found himself barely able to survive. The twisted creatures pressed him from all sides. Then kunai flew from above and impaled them. Nayasha and her assassins descended, hacking through them.


    "You have been busy," said Nayasha.


    "I have the Grail of Immortality," said Sahshir.


    "Good," said Nayasha. "I''ve opened the gates. Even as we speak, the legions of Dinis are about to enter the city. We''d best get off the streets before they enter.


    "I am pleased to hear that you learned at least something in my teachings."


    As they reached the roof, horn calls sounded, and fighting was heard. The raishans coursing through the streets turned their attention to the walls. Above the mountain loomed a many-headed shadow that feasted on the life force of all who died.


    Minutes passed, and Sahshir saw the shadow growing. It fed on the energy of every life ended here. Finally, he could see the heads gaining more form.


    Monsters were now streaming through the streets. People were fleeing from their houses to the temple in desperation to escape. The Legions of Dinis were also in the streets, fighting with them.


    Any found by the legions were killed at once. Any found by the raishans were devoured. The defenders of the city were scarcely able to hold back the tide. And Sahshir was sitting here, waiting.


    "So many," said Sahshir.


    "Leave them," said Nayasha. "The city is doomed. And that is a good thing."


    Sahshir could leave. People were being slaughtered, and he was doing nothing. No doubt, the demons were sitting on high, laughing. Fury came to him as he realized he was but an afterthought to them. Abdul Sahshir was no more than a thief in the night to their eyes. No, no, he would show them just who he was. He rose and drew his sword. "Take the Grail and leave. I will remain and deal with these."


    "You have your orders," said Nayasha.


    "Does Tuor hold authority over me?" asked Sahshir, not keeping the scorn from his voice.


    "He does," said Nayasha. "And you are a fool to ignore him."


    "And you are a coward to abandon the fight," said Sahshir. "Go if you will.


    "I will gain victory here or die trying."


    "Do as you wish," said Nayasha.


    Then she departed.


    Why was Sahshir doing this? He knew on some level that he would likely be overwhelmed and killed. But as he walked, he considered that he was not likely to last much longer in this life. He''d been taught little about the ruling, and Asim would probably act against him sooner or later. Failing that, his disease would claim him.


    It is better to die in battle than by poison. And he despised the idea of fleeing. Yes, he was trying to stop the flow of chaos itself. But was that different from what the purpose of Order was? To stand from the darkness of animal instincts and impose your will upon it. To proclaim that you will not stand for madness, even if all the world conspires to aid it.


    As chaos has its uttermost source in the world, so does Order have its uttermost source in the self. That is why he would fight for Order. Even amid oblivion, he would fight for it. The universe is without mercy or honor. But he was not. Those around me care nothing for right or wrong. But he would serve right. And from his words and deeds, there would be Order, if only for a moment.


    That was his purpose. Those who opposed him would be destroyed.


    Sahshir saw a group of civilians fleeing from armored men with rectangular shields. They were here for the killing and plunder.


    They would achieve neither against him. Sahshir charged into battle.

 Chapter Nineteen: Go and Die

    Narcissa''s eyes opened, and she saw Garacel looking down at her and feeling warm and friendly. Above him was the ceiling of the Sanctum of Zigildrazia with all its statues and places. Rising suddenly, she found her limbs aching and hoped she looked good. She''d tried to stop him.


    She''d failed. So much for all of her training so far, she felt only disappointment. Disappointment in herself and in the situation.


    "Narcissa, you awaken," said Garacel. The Seeker was kneeling over her, one hand upon his sword.


    "Yes, I... I tried to stop them, but..." began Narcissa.


    "Everything has proceeded as expected," said Garacel.


    "What?" said Narcissa.


    Garacel flourished the Blade of Chaos in hand, and it seemed to shriek. "Or, more precisely, events are well within acceptable parameters.''


    "What do you mean ''within acceptable parameters''?" asked Narcissa. "The whole city has gone mad." Zigildrazia could not be wrong.


    "The battle is ongoing," said Garacel. "It was inevitable that it should happen. The important thing is that the Blade of Chaos is growing in power."


    "The Sword..." said Narcissa. "Do we have the power to resurrect Typhos yet?" All those who were dying were dying for that purpose. She must not question it.


    Garacel did not answer. Narcissa stood. "Garacel?"


    "Follow me," said Garacel.


    "Where is Alkela?" asked Narcissa.


    "She and Illaryus have gone out to fight the legions," said Garacel. "They entered the gates some time ago. Now follow." This time, it was a command.


    Narcissa obeyed.


    They walked through the empty halls of the Sanctum. Everyone who had once dwelled here had either left to fight or fled through the passages below.


    "Ages ago, there was a great war between the powers of the universe," said Garacel. "In this war, there were gods and demons on both sides. Every power had its own goal, and every power schemed against the others.


    "One of these powers was Typhos, the Goddess of Chaos. She is the mother of all monsters and is an ally of Zigildrazia. The first raishans were her creation, as were the chimeras, hydras, and many others. The Blade of Chaos was forged for her champion.


    "Now that sword shall return her to life."


    "But..." Narcissa paused. "What about the people. We served Zigildrazia loyally... should we... be considered." She was dangerously close to heresy here.


    "They are," said Garacel. "Better that they die in the service of something greater than be prey to invading armies. Those worthy shall enter into Zigildrazia''s harem.


    "Our enemies will be destroyed, and Zigildrazia shall be pleased."


    A door opened, and they came to a vast chamber. An altar was at the center, and a huge, black heart was on it. Arteries connected to each wall, and it was still beating hard. The beating was like the deeper drum in history and shook her.


    "Why here, Master Garacel? Why Zigilus?" asked Narcissa. "Why couldn''t we do all this in the Emperor''s territory if he was an enemy. Then, we could have moved the heart to Davus."


    "Would that we could destroy our enemies in such a fashion," said Garacel. "Unfortunately, the Blade of Chaos cannot create flesh as Order can. And were we to move the heart, it would die. For it was here, where this very mountain stands, that Zeya and Typhos had their final battle. They summoned their avatars with all that remained of their power. It was a cataclysmic battle.


    "In those days, few dwelled in the east, which was fortunate. Had any civilization existed here, it would have been laid to waste. The battle was terrible. Mountains were cast down. A great pit delved into the land, and the sea flowed into the Bay of Lightning. And many storms lie over the bay. They have never cleared.


    "In the final grapple, Zeya was pushed down beneath the body of Typhos. But Elranor drove his blade, Lightning Trail, into Typhos'' side. Thus, Zeya was freed, and she lifted a great mountain and buried Typhos beneath it.


    "Typhos was trapped beneath the mountain, and what power remained to her was sealed away in the far west. Over time, her body decayed, its broken limbs and heads fading away. These became plants and creatures of the land. But her heart remained deep beneath the mountains.


    "Until one day, a group of miners who served me found it.


    "The heart was still beating. So I brought it up from the earth and kept it safe, hoping to one day restore her. But the Blade of Chaos had been lost long ago, during the great war. So, it was beyond my power to bring her back.


    "Yet not all hope was lost. I erected a shrine around the heart and drew to it many of the monster races. Thus, Typhos gained a small following among those the other gods rejected. Slowly, she began to increase in power.


    "But the war with Calisha went poorly. And Baltoth sought to destroy the heart. So I gave it to Zigildrazia, a longtime ally of Typhos. My hope was that one day, she would be restored.


    "That day has come.


    "The heart remains. It beats still here at the very center of the Palace of Zigildrazia. Now, in the name of chaos, Typhos shall be restored!" And he drove the Blade of Chaos deep into the heart. Green blood spurted out, soaking the blade. And it began to beat faster, then faster still. A light green glow came from the heart as whispers intensified.


    "How long will it take?" asked Narcissa.


    "Hours," said Garacel. "We must ensure that none reaches this Sanctum. Ready your axe. We have work to do.


    "When Typhos arises, the legion will be a fitting sacrifice."


    Then, the light became blinding, and they were standing in the streets of Zigilus. The legions were fighting against swarms of raishans. Battlelusters hacked and slashed with glee. There was Illaryus, slashing off heads like a man returned from the dead. There was Alkela, swinging about her with a mace. So many had fallen to her already.


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    "Now," said Garacel, "do as Zigildrazia wills. Take up your weapon and fight. Kill all who would oppose the will of Zigildrazia."


    There was only one answer to be made.


    Narcissa raised her axe and charged. She saw one of the legionaries moving toward her. She brought her axe around, and he caught it on his shield. The axe cleaved straight through and sank into his side. He gasped as blood was spat from his face to land upon her, and she drew out the blade. Swinging it down, she shattered a helm and waded into the fray.


    She was not her own.


    She belonged to Zigildrazia to do with as she willed.


    Her body moved almost of its own accord, hacking and slashing. An odd tranquility fell over her as she watched herself kill repeatedly.


    "Master Garacel, when I last used this weapon, it..." she said in her mind. "I felt someone, Amysta. She took over my body."


    "Indeed?" came Garacel''s thought in turn. "That is unfortunate.


    "We suspected that her spirit remained within her bloodline. But we had hoped otherwise. Still, this presents an opportunity. This axe naturally draws upon your demonic heritage, Narcissa. The more you wield it, the more Amysta''s will embody you.


    "Should you die, her strength will be decimated even further. And Zigildrazia''s dominance over the domain of lust unchallenged."


    Did Zigildrazia want her to die? Narcissa hesitated. "Are you ordering me to"


    "I am not ordering you to do anything," said Garacel. "The axe is yours to wield, or not wield, as you see fit. So commanded Zigildrazia. You may wield your old one if you wish. But without the power of this axe, you may well die.


    "Who else may the citizens look to for their defense?"


    She had a choice. But there was only one answer she could make. "You''ve given me everything. I won''t back out now."


    Bodies surrounded her. Dozens of corpses lay hewn about her as she slashed. The legionaries were retreating, but more came. These ones advanced in formation, shields raised. Narcissa let out a howl and charged. As she did, she saw Illaryus charging with her and Alkela, her ring on her finger and gleaming.


    The raishans also charged with them.


    Once they crashed into the legions, the real battle began. The enemy line held firm. They were fighting to keep them back. When a man fell, another came to replace him. They hewed down many raishans and lesser warriors. But Alkela and Rakel''s weapons cut through all defenses. Little by little, the enemy formation was being driven back.


    Hewn skulls and broken limbs were all around her. Carnage was rising throughout the streets. Archers fired from rooftops. Monsters swooped down from the sky to kill and be killed. Spears were hurled as more and more legionaries stormed through the gates.


    It was glorious. An orgy of constant bloodshed consumed the entire city. How she lived for such moments.


    No.


    No Amysta lived for such moments. Narcissa lived for Zigildrazia. She felt as if she was willing to feel. Did as she wanted to do. That was her nature and purpose. Narcissa now felt the two aspects of her combined in a single body. It existed independently of oneself.


    Lusting for battle and blood, but for two different reasons.


    At length, she stood alone in a courtyard, surrounded by bodies. Her face was smiling, and her limbs and face were covered in blood. It reminded her, no, Amysta, of bathing in the blood of virgins. But Narcissa felt sick and shrugged it off.


    Then she saw a shadow.


    Turning and looking up to the roof, she saw Dakan standing there. He was holding two short swords in both hands, spinning them absently. "My, how enthusiastic you''ve become, Narcissa."


    "Dakan," said Narcissa. "Why aren''t you helping with the fight?"


    "Well, I did help start it," said Dakan. "I think it only fair that I will be allowed to take a more relaxed policy." He looked from the roof to where smoke was rising from a distant inferno. "I must admit, when I informed the Emperor of Garacel''s plan, I wasn''t expecting a response of this sort. I was hoping for subtle machinations. Political backstabbing and the like.


    "This isn''t really my specialty.


    "Still, withdrawing the guards for Baltoth''s minions was simple enough."


    Narcissa hurled her axe, spinning toward him. He leaped over it and spun through the air to land behind her, blades aimed at her heart. But Narcissa drew back her axe and clashed blades with him. "You''ll pay for what you did to Zarana!"


    "What did I do?" asked Dakan. "Was it not what Zigildrazia did to her?"


    Narcissa shoved him back and unleashed a flurry of blows. Dakar dodged and weaved through them. He spun his swords playfully before catching her axe between them. "My such aggression on both your parts. You should try to demonstrate less blind fury and more skill."


    His sword lashed out for her throat. But as it did, he flinched back and narrowly avoided having his skull caved in. Then, somersaulting backward, he leaped into the air and landed on a low roof. Alkela fell next to Narcissa, weapon in hand.


    Dakan spun his blades a final time. Then he smiled. "Yes, now that is more like it. Come on, little human girls. Let us see how you fare against one who knows what he is doing!"


    He descended, and they brought around their weapons.


    Dakan dodged and weaved through their strikes. But as he did so, Alkela and Narcissa flanked him, always staying on opposite sides. They coordinated their attacks, moving as a single unit. Dakan was soon on the defensive.


    Finally, he slid back, falling to one knee. But as they moved toward him, he hurled a vial of oil onto the ground. It exploded into an inferno, and when it cleared, Dakan was back on top of the roof again. "...So, it appears you are better than I thought. I wanted to have a different kind of fun while the city burned.


    "But both of you at once is a bit much, even for me. So I leave you two to your inevitable corruption."


    Then, turning, he leaped from the roof and out of sight.


    The doors around them were then thrown open. The legionnaires rushed in with bloodied swords. "For the Emperor! For Dinis! Cleanse this city! Purge the heretics!"


    The two stood back to back as the legionaries closed in around them. They hacked and slashed together, cleaving down all they could. Yet more bodies were added to the growing pile. Sons, fathers, and brothers were cut down as the circle drew ever closer around them.


    This was it.


    Now, at last, they would die. Thus would the will of Zigildrazia be fulfilled.


    "Blood for Zigildrazia!" cried a voice.


    Then, through the doors burst a light, and out of it charged Illaryus. He seemed to change as he rushed at the legionnaires, hacking them down. His back straightened, and his skin became unwrinkled. His teeth became perfect as the graying hair turned silver. So here was the Chief of the Battlelusters in his full glory.


    All that stood before him were killed. His blade could not pierce the armor but found every weak point. More legionaries came in behind him, but they died by the dozens wherever he walked.


    And finally, they broke and fled.


    Illaryus stood where he was momentarily, an image of the glory of all Battlelusters. Then he collapsed to his knees. And as the glamour faded, Narcissa saw that his body was covered in grievous wounds.


    She ran to him and caught him as he fell back. "Illaryus!


    "Illaryus, hold on!"


    His skin began to crack. "We are gone now, Narcissa. All save you and Alkela. All have died in this battle, and the city we served will soon follow. The raishans are destroyed, and all we did for naught." Then Illaryus smiled. "...I call this... a fine death..."


    A light came from the cracks, and suddenly, he faded. His body disappeared as if it had never been. As he did, the legionnaires crept back in.


    They held the doorways all around them, shields readied. Archers came to the windows and bent their bows. Narcissa could have made one final charge, but there was no point.


    The archers screamed as spectral blades were driven through their backs. The legionnaires turned and began fighting with some enemy. They disappeared from sight, and screams could be heard.


    Then Garacel walked into view. His swords were sheathed, and he was flanked by dozens of specters. Some of them Narcissa had seen speaking with Illaryus in the Sanctum.


    "This I will not allow," said Garacel. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Master Garacel?" asked Narcissa.


    "I have not faced the armies of Dinis in a long time," said Garacel. "Their armaments have improved somewhat. Well done, both of you."


    Narcissa felt a lump in her throat. "What do we do now?"


    "Typhos will return soon," said Garacel. "For now, we will feed her resurrection. We will kill as many mortals as humanly possible. It should be a decent sport. Come."


    He walked onward. As he did, two surviving legionaries rushed at him, only to fall headless to the ground.


    Narcissa followed. Illaryus was dead, but she could still save this city. She had to.

 Chapter Twenty: Showdown

    Initially, things had been straightforward.


    The legion had been prepared for the sacking of a city and had yet to expect heavy resistance. Instead, they had broken ranks and begun to loot, pillage, and take prisoners. This allowed Sahshir to pick and kill his targets one at a time.


    This had not lasted.


    Now, the legion had gotten organized. The legion advanced from building to building in good order. They were setting fire and killing as they went. They guarded each other against demons and mortals alike. Their shields protected each other. Together, they began to mop up scattered resistance.


    A door broke open, and a woman fled out of a house, pursued by the legionnaires. Arrows landed around her, but none found their mark as she sprinted away. In her grip was a screaming child.


    Sahshir dropped down from the rooftop and through the window. Bringing his sword around, he beheaded one of the archers. From there, he went from window to window, killing as he went. Some withdrew to lower floors. He knew they would return with better-armed soldiers. Before they could, he leaped out of the window and landed on the street below.


    He saw the woman fall as a legionary raised his blade to kill them. Sahshir sprinted with all his might and passed him, cleaving. The man fell into many pieces, and Sahshir pulled the woman up.


    "Run for the Sanctum of Zigildrazia," he said. "The monks have a way of escape."


    Then, as she ran, he turned to face the enemy coming at him. They hurled spears at him. He dodged and weaved, cutting one in half as it fell. Then, hurling several kunai. He was disappointed when they all were caught on their shields.


    More of them were coming now. Their swords were bloodied from fresh kills.


    He ran, sprinting into an alley. Running up the wall, he kicked off, then back and forth until he reached the top. Then he leaped from rooftop to rooftop to escape. As he did, he saw a group of citizens with weapons fighting with the legionaries. Several of them fell, and not one legionary died with them.


    He leaped to that rooftop and cleaved through a helmet. Then, drawing his blade out, he stepped around the next man''s guard and jabbed his sword under the man''s armpit. Pulling out, he fended off several strikes before vaulting over his enemy. As he landed, he stabbed him through the throat from behind.


    The citizens were all dead now.


    He fled down the steps and found the enemy waiting at the bottom. Leaping over a spear thrust, he beheaded the man and landed quickly. More were waiting for him at the base of the steps, and these, too, fell. But somewhere along the line, he must have been cut. As he stumbled into another room filled with civilian corpses, he felt an ache in his arm. He''d been sliced.


    Sahshir felt like he was bailing out a sinking ship with a thimble. All he could do was buy time for the people to get on lifeboats, and only a little of it.


    As he fled into the darkness of night, he slipped into an alley and fell to one wall, breathing heavily. He could hear screams and battle raging around him. Troops of soldiers rushed by him, crying battle cries. "Forward Legionnaires! For the Emperor! Let none of these heretics survive the reaping!"


    Demons met them in battle, and the legions fought them without flinching.


    Curse these legions. They had no fear. Sahshir had had several close calls tonight. Drawing a bandage from one of the compartments in his belt, he tied his wound to staunch the bleeding.


    "Please, please don''t hurt me-" begged someone before their voice was cut short.


    Looking around the corner, he saw the legion was now fighting with some of the city''s defenders. They were hacking and slashing at each other in a melee now. They seemed evenly matched.


    Turning into the street, Sahshir rushed to join the fray. He hacked and slashed, killing and maiming. He was almost in a trance, watching blood spilling across the flagstones.


    Soon, he found himself fighting with a legionary. His enemy was good on defense, and his shield could hold up against the Sword of Chaos. They fought back and forth, and Sahshir realized he had seen this one before.


    He''d killed many demons in the fields before the city. Now, he wielded a cracked shield and bloody sword against the weapon of a god. Sahshir''s blows were warded off, and lethal thrusts were the reply that he had to dodge. They circled, slashing and fighting without end.


    Magnificent.


    But it could not last.


    The defenders of Zigilus had now fled or died. The legionaries were moving to surround him. Leaping back, Sahshir fled into an open door and up a flight of steps. He heard them following him.


    The stairs led ever higher. Soon, he realized he had scaled to the top of a tower. Slamming shut the door, he ran to the edge and vaulted over the edge, allowing himself to fall. Then, drawing out the Sword of Order, he jammed it into the stonework. It sank in deep and slowed his fall as he surged toward the ground.


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    Coming to a halt, he sprinted away.


    Eventually, he halted and fell to his knees. He could not continue like this.


    "Another dozen souls cut down by your blade, Kalthakian?" asked a question.


    Sahshir rose and looked up. A dark-skinned man in a long coat stood before him with his hands in his pockets. He was smiling.


    "Would you stand by and let them go unopposed?" asked Sahshir.


    "You defend your enemies?" asked the man. "Many things have been done in the name of Baltoth. Not this, I think."


    Sahshir looked at him warily. What was he playing at? "It is in the name of my own will."


    "Very well, then." said the man. "I am Dakan. May I make a suggestion?"


    This was absurd.


    "What is it?" asked Sahshir.


    "You are fighting two enemies now. The raishans and the legion," said Dakan. "And all this violence is happening in the city. If you could move both out to fight each other, many more could be saved."


    "I have no power to control raishans," said Sahshir.


    "True," said Dakan. "But the raishans are focused wholly on the Blade of Chaos. Speaking of which, you may have noticed our friend." He pointed upwards. Sahshir followed the gesture and saw that the shadow he had seen before had grown. He could now make out scales and individual aspects of the heads.


    It was not yet in the world. But it would be soon.


    "Where is the Blade of Chaos?" asked Sahshir.


    "In an exceptional part of the Sanctum," said Dakan. "Only a Garacel and Zigildrazia knew of it until I followed Garacel to it. Within beats the heart of Typhos. In that heart, if the Blade of Chaos. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "If it were removed, that shadow might dissipate. Bring the Blade of Chaos into the main camp of the legions. They will have to withdraw to defend it."


    "Why are you helping me?" asked Sahshir. "What do you want?"


    "All within this city are my enemies," said Dakan. "For I have made them so. But the civilians are of no threat."


    "Will you lead me there?" asked Sahshir.


    Dakan shrugged. "I''d love to. But we''re about to have company."


    Sahshir turned and saw Grakus walking into view. He was soaked in blood and grime and smiling wide as he walked toward them, soaked to his neck in blood. The cords on his arms were wrapped around nine legionnaires, choking the life from them. They constricted suddenly, and their heads rolled across the street.


    Grakus stretched. "So, the descendant of Neseriah, he weaves his webs, does he?


    "And his pawns are all set. But the board will be flipped before he ever uses them."


    "Grakus?" said Sahshir.


    "I am pleased you remember me, human," said Grakus.


    "You know what Garacel is doing, do you not?" said Sahshir. "This will destroy the very city you are meant to protect. Kill thousands." If he could get past this man without a fight-


    "Far more than that," laughed Grakus. "And it has already killed thousands."


    Sahshir considered what this made him. "...You''re a monster," he said matter-of-factly. Though he felt nothing when he said it. Oddly, he should feel rage like some old heroes when witnessing atrocities.


    "You remind me of someone I once faced," said Grakus. "A fool who sought to battle me in single combat. He sought to avenge his wife and refused help to do it. For the life of me, I cannot remember the woman.


    "It was on that day that I met your mentor.


    "Tell me, does humanity suffer grief for the slaughter of innumerable sheep? Does the hunter mourn the deer? No, they do not. It is the nature of all things to consume and devour others."


    "But you have served as an officer in the service of those you deem sheep," said Sahshir, readying his sword. The two began to circle one another. "You benefit from their culture and society. Who forged the armor you bear? Or sewed the cloth beneath it?"


    "Humans, of course," said Grakus.


    "Then, whatever your race, you have made yourself one of them," said Sahshir. "You have integrated into their society and cannot stand above it. You are not a predator hunting prey but a murderer."


    "I prefer to think of myself as a wolf among sheep.," said Grakus. "HAIL TYPHOS!!"


    His cords then burst into green flame, and he surged at Sahshir. Sahshir yielded ground beneath the onslaught, fending it off as best he could. Finally, the heat of the cords was unbearable, and Grakus continued his assault.


    Turning, Sahshir ran up a wall, kicking off it, and passed over Grakus. However, he twisted to avoid the cords even as his sword went down. Landing, he slashed at Grakus'' leg, but the man pulled back in time to avoid losing it. There was a small cut on him, however.


    "You''re strong, Kalthakian," said Grakus. "It is rare I am forced to face an enemy.


    "Once before, we stalemated on the airship. It shall not happen twice. The flame of Typhos shall break the foundations of the universe! And I shall cast it!" Then, raising a hand, he summoned five spheres of fire and hurled them at Sahshir.


    Sahshir ducked under one, rolled past another, and cleaved through a third with the Sword of Order. As he did, the other four hit the ground and exploded. It sent cobblestones and dirt everywhere.


    One caught him on the shoulder, and he fell to one knee in agony. Looking up, he saw Grakus surging toward him. His cords were all moving to impale Sahshir. And there was an opening. Rising to his feet, Sahshir surged toward Grakus.


    Before he could see where his strike fell, Sahshir and Grakus passed one another. They halted, and Sahshir felt the pain of a burn on his leg. He fell and touched his other shoulder, burning as well. He looked back and saw Grakus standing tall. Had he hit him?


    Then Grakus raised the hand from which his cords came. It was glowing, brighter and brighter. Blood spilled from an artery in his side as he fell to one knee. "My hand... It burns... IT BURNS!!"


    Grakus'' entire form began to light up. Cracks appeared in his flesh as fire surged from his veins. A howl came from his lips as Sahshir leaped into a nearby gutter and prayed for the best. There was a surge of heat and green light as the walls were scorched. Then it was over. Sahshir pulled himself up and saw no sign of Grakus. He had been a formidable opponent and died for his cause.


    Sahshir bowed in respect.


    Then came the sound of clapping.


    Dakan moved forward as Sahshir forced himself to stand. "Well done, well done indeed. It''s been a long time since I had such an excellent show." Drew out a vial and tossed it at Sahshir''s feet. "Drink that; it should restore your flesh and bone."


    Sahshir had little choice but to take it on faith. If he didn''t drink it, he was a dead man. Dropping his sword, he unstoppered the bottle and drank it down. Instantly, his burns and injuries flared with unbearable pain. It was all he could do not to fall.


    But when it was over, he was in perfect health.


    "Now," said Dakan, "follow me. And I will lead you where you want to go."


    How considerate of him. Sahshir made a mental note to kill him once he outlived his usefulness. He really seemed like the treacherous sort.

 Chapter Twenty-One: Settling the Score

    The legion had been stopped.


    The armored soldiers had stopped advancing. Now, they were erecting defenses against an unending tide of ghost warriors. Spirits raised from those they had slaughtered. Narcissa and Alkela fought, killed, and fought some more to help. But they had not given up.


    They walked through the corpse-strewn streets and found Master Garacel. At his feet were many headless legionaries. His sword was bloodied, but the weapon went clean with a flick of it.


    He turned to them. "Ah, Narcissa, Alkela, I am pleased to see both of you still alive. Tell me, has Amysta shown any signs of manifestation?"


    "No. No, she hasn''t," said Narcissa before looking to Alkela, who shook her head. So why hadn''t Alkela suffered the same problem? Or had she suffered it, but no one had noticed.


    "Good," said Garacel.


    "I don''t understand why," said Narcissa. "She manifested within me so easily before. So why would she not be able to anymore?"


    "Her spirit is still reeling from touching the Grail of Immortality," said Garacel. "Amysta was never one for research or contemplation.


    "She did not understand the Grail, so she thought she could grasp it like any other artifact."


    "Why couldn''t she?" asked Narcissa. "Baltoth did."


    Garacel shook his head. "The Grail was not created by the Gods, but by a being beyond them. He dwells beyond the Soul Event Horizon at the end of the universe.


    "It will not tolerate one of Amysta''s kind taking it up."


    Narcissa considered what Garacel had done. Willingly unleashed raishans on, relatively speaking, innocent people. He had no regrets and had done it without hesitation. There had been no sadism, but did that really matter?


    No. It did not.


    Garacel Zigildrazia and Amysta were all of the same kind. It''s just that Narcissa was on the former two''s side. "Then how did you steal it?"


    Garacel shifted to look at her as though amused. "I wore gloves."


    Narcissa blinked. "That worked?"


    "Yes," said Garacel. "Why would it not? The Grail hurts those who touch it. If I am wearing half an inch of leather around my body, that does not count as touching it."


    "That just seems a bit of a weakness," said Narcissa.


    "In time, you will find that the most elaborate defenses can be circumvented. Usually, by simple acts of pragmatism," said Garacel. "That is why keeping one''s plans simple is important."


    "What part of this plan is simple?" asked Narcissa.


    "It was Zigildrazia''s plan, not mine," said Garacel. "She likes to make very complex plans. She feels it is more entertaining when they fall to pieces and more impressive when they go off without a hitch. In any case, I doubt it would have harmed me as it did her. It deals in degrees, and I have never done the things Amysta did in all my years."


    "Why did you tell me about the Grail in the first place?" asked Narcissa.


    "I was showing it to Amysta," said Garacel. "Zigildrazia had been concerned about her sister manifesting for some time. I thought she would take it if I presented Amysta with an opportunity. And if she didn''t take it, no harm would be done. As things stand, things have worked flawlessly." He halted and looked up. Then his eyes narrowed. "So, the Sword of Order comes to interfere.


    "Follow me. We have one more enemy to face before this ends."


    He turned to stride away. Narcissa moved after her. "What about the legions?"


    "They are nearly broken," said Garacel. "They cannot stop what is now arising. However, the wielder of the Sword of Order can.


    "Still, I must admit that the legions have proven themselves a formidable enemy. More so than I expected."


    "What were they like when you ruled?" asked Narcissa.


    "There were no legions in those days," said Garacel, voice wistful. "When I ruled as Lover Eternal, there were many kingdoms without a single ruler, though all hailed me. But with the coming of Baltoth, I was cast down. In my place arose an imposter known as Safara. A serpent, born of Baltoth''s union with one of my old enemies. She unified them by subverting the wills of the people.


    "And yet she crossed Baltoth to her folly. She was captured and taken as a slave to Calisha, where she resides now. And her empire fractured, with no unifying force.


    It was from these shattered remnants that Zigildrazia, Typhos, and Amysta came. They filled the void that was left and created a great empire.


    "Dinis."


    They strode through the blood-drenched streets, moving with speed. Narcissa saw one horror after another. Cleaved limbs and dead bodies everywhere. "Master Garacel, wasn''t there any way to do this plan without killing all these people?"


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    "Are you experiencing doubts?" asked Garacel.


    "Yes," said Narcissa, "I''m still loyal to Zigildrazia; I exist for her. But I feel them."


    "Doubt is the source of true faith," said Garacel. "If you were not experiencing doubt, your faith would be worthless. Only by questioning can we understand. And only through understanding can we truly revere Her Radiance." His voice was deadpan, as though reciting a script. "To answer your question, I suspect that Zigildrazia intends to give their souls to Typhos. No doubt, to create new breeds of monsters.


    "A sort of peace offering. They will live again in another form soon enough."


    They came before the gates of the Sanctum of Zigildrazia. There, Garacel halted by them and turned. He sat down crosslegged and set his sword over his knees. "We all of us exist for a purpose. Each of us was set upon this world for a singular act we were born to perform.


    "All that we control is whether we embrace our purpose. Or defy it." He looked up at a nearby building. "Wouldn''t you agree, Abdul Sahshir?"


    Narcissa followed his gaze and saw Abdul Sahshir and Dakan. Sahshir had his blade in hand, and his scarf flowed around him. He leaped down from the building and landed in a roll as Dakan landed next to him, his coat flowing.


    "Garacel," said Sahshir.


    Garacel rose as Narcissa drew her axe. "And so we meet again, once more amidst a flaming city. Poetic, is it not?"


    "What is the meaning of this, Dakan," said Sahshir.


    "It seems that Garacel intends to keep us from the Sanctum," said Dakan. If I suggest a strategy, Lord Sahshir, I could retrieve the Blade of Chaos.


    "Meanwhile, you may settle scores with Garacel and allow us victory."


    "Dakan, I thought the gate fell too easily," said Garacel, raising his sword. "You have overplayed your hand today. It is a mistake you will not live to regret."


    "A fine plan Dakan," said Sahshir. "Go on ahead, and when you get the Blade, do not come back for me."


    "As you wish," said Dakan.


    Then Dakan faded into the shadows and appeared behind them through the gate. He was rushing away. Garacel raised a hand, and the gate swung open. "Alkela, Narcissa, go after him. Take his head.


    "I will attend to the boy."


    Narcissa nodded. "Yes, Master Garacel."


    They sprinted after him through the front doors of the temple. As they did, Dakan descended from above and drove his knife down. It passed through Alkela''s exposed stomach and sank deep. Alkela let out a wordless scream and fell to the ground.


    "Alkela?!" screamed Narcissa.


    She swung around her axe, but Dakan darted away, parrying her slashes with his blades. He was smiling as he gave ground. "And so we battle again. Entertaining at the least, though not good."


    Then he knocked aside her axe and went through the throat. Something took hold of Narcissa, and she moved backward. Her body began to move on its own, defending and slashing. Where before she had been outmatched, now she was overwhelming him.


    Interest dawned within Narcissa. The sight of Alkela bleeding on the ground passed from her mind. Other things were thought of instead. "Why are you doing this, Dakan? What do you gain from it?"


    "Gain?" asked Dakan, dodging around a strike. "My dear, wealth is empty. Pleasure is empty. Life is empty. You cannot truly gain anything.


    "The taking is what delights me." He landed behind Narcissa and slashed at her with his duel blades. "The taking of life. The taking of money. The taking of control. All those masterful little demon lords and gods, all playing their game. And none of them win. All the world will be consumed in a final defeat.


    "And over the corpses, I shall be the victor."


    Narcissa gave ground, noting Alkela rising from the ground behind him. "Baltoth is going to give you an influential position in Safara''s new order, isn''t he?"


    Dakan halted. "...What makes you say that?"


    "Well, if I were you, I''d want to keep playing first and foremost," said Narcissa. "So I''d set up a deal with whoever would be coming in to replace Zigildrazia. Suppose I were the Emperor of Dinis, and I was going to overthrow my patron god. In that case, I''d want protection from the most powerful god close to home. That''s Baltoth.


    "And if I were Baltoth and wanted to establish my hold over Dinis, I''d send my daughter Safara, who used to rule the place. But since she crossed me once, I''d want someone close to her with many connections to keep her in check.


    "Which means you."


    Dakan spun his swords around. "...Well, you aren''t wrong."


    "So, for all your talk about destruction for its own sake, you actually have a plan," said Narcissa.


    Narcissa sent forth her will into Alkela, forcing her body to heal at an enhanced rate. As she did, Dakan took a stance. "Well, of course, I have a plan, you stupid girl. You can only play the game with one. You need to include the point.


    "The point of all this isn''t the plan''s end goal. That''s just an excuse. I do all this because I delight in destroying what others have built. All these fancy towers and silver necklaces are just dust in the wind.


    "Just like Zarana!"


    Narcissa went still. And suddenly, part of her was very, very angry. "You destroyed her life out of spite?!" Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No, I merely prefer teenage girls," said Dakan. "Not too young or old, with a certain innocence. I have sufficient influence and use it to avoid prosecution, so I use it.


    "It''s more about the journey than the destination, honestly."


    "Fine, we''ll go by your advice!" Narcissa charged. "My axe is going to end up in your skull! But it will take a long journey all over your body!"


    Dakan leaped back, parrying strokes until he was up against the doors. He dodged aside narrowly, and the door was smashed open. The light poured into the darkened room, and Narcissa flinched back. Dakan seemed made of shadow. "My, aren''t we standing tall, Narcissa?


    "You''re casting a long shadow."


    Then he vanished.


    Narcissa turned around just in time to see a blade surge forward and catch her in the shoulder. She gasped and fell to the ground as Dakan raised his other dagger.


    "A gift from my dear ancestor, Neseriah," said Dakan.


    How had he done this? Bypassed her armor?


    "You know, I always like that rule about female body armor here," said Dakan, forcing her down. "Oh, it''s impractical, but there is something satisfying about it.


    "Most people don''t understand that the armor doesn''t deflect blades. It merely alters the wills of people, so they aim everywhere else. But, with proper training, you can overcome it.


    "Now-"


    Then he looked up and melted into the shadows again as Alkela charged at him. Her mace passed through where he was, and he appeared there. Lashing out with her axe, Narcissa caught him in the ankle, and it broke off.


    Dakan hit the ground, screaming. Narcissa rose and approached him, keeping one hand on her wound. A wound that even now was disappearing. She felt amusement at the sight of Dakan screaming.


    He deserved this.


    "You... you worthless bitch! Baltoth will not allow you to-" began Dakan.


    Narcissa put one high-heeled boot on his neck. And she felt as if Amysta was bleeding through again. "Sorry.


    "But I''ve got an axe to grind about your conduct." Then she grabbed her axe in both hands and brought down the axe.


    Narcissa felt happy. Zarana was avenged. Amysta was pleased with herself for the one-liner. But, Alkela stared at her.


    "Oh, what?" said Amysta''s part. "Like you could have come up with a better one!" Narcissa forced herself to return. "Let''s get to the sword. I want to see it. And we can guard it against any further attempts. We can leave the head here."


    They made their way through the passage, back where they had come.


    On and on, they walked. The passage had changed again. It was like a ruin now, with broken flagstones. Moss was growing on it, and puddles of black liquid could be seen here and there. The drip of water was everywhere.


    Then they came into the chamber of the Heart. It, too, had changed. The Heart now sat on a pedestal atop a pillar. A raised staircase winded up to it, and on a throne in the air was Zigildrazia. She was once again in her true, beautiful form. "Narcissa, Alkela, I''m glad you are here. I was getting very lonely with both of you gone.


    "Your little friend Sahshir is on his way here."


    Narcissa''s blood ran cold. "Did he kill Master Garacel?"


    Zigildrazia smiled. "Now that would be telling."


    Narcissa felt she would learn no more than that. Amysta wanted her to inquire, but Narcissa did not. Zigildrazia did not like it, and so she did not desire it.

 Chapter Twenty-two: Single Combat

    Sahshir should have attacked at once.


    Narcissa and Dakan were fleeing into the Sanctum as he spoke. But he knew how dangerous Garacel was and wanted to avoid making a mistake. So he took a stance and waited as Garacel observed him. Then, the two began to circle one another, looking for weaknesses in their guards.


    The truth was he would lose and be forced to retreat. If so, Garacel would pursue Dakan. Therefore, his best hope was to hold Garacel at bay for a time and then withdraw.


    "There have been one or two problems, as there always are," said Garacel. "But I am well enough content with how things have turned out.


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    "By you?" asked Sahshir. "Only disgust."


    Garacel raised his sword and prepared for a strike. Sahshir mirrored the motion. "I wonder what made you so determined to confront me. Indeed, you could have left Dakan here to face me and gone yourself.


    "Narcissa and Alkela would have been an easier target."


    "You invaded my home. And hurt those that belong to me," said Sahshir. It was more personal than he would like to admit.


    "I have invaded many places, and all have trembled beneath my footsteps," said Garacel. "Though yours was more challenging than most, your vendetta is hardly new. For I am Garacel, and few are they who can stand against me and live.


    "Still, I have a vendetta of my own. It will take some time for me to regain the servants you destroyed. I will face you again, sword to sword. And let the strongest triumph."


    "So be it," said Sahshir.


    Then, they surged at one another. Sahshir found his blade moving almost of its own accord. He lashed out again and again, moving ever faster. But Garacel moved with natural confidence and could not harm the living armor.


    Then Garacel lashed out. Sahshir bent backward and avoided losing his head. He saw the blade gleaming slowly as it passed by his eyes. Then, falling to his hands, he backflipped away to gain distance.


    But even as he landed, Garacel was on him. The Sword of Order was raised, and the blow rang. There they stood, locked, will against will, blade against blade. Here, Garacel had the advantage; his blade''s weight was like a mountain, and Sahshir was forced to one knee. He was losing. But Garacel had an imbalanced stance.


    Rolling forward, Sahshir slipped away from the blade. Slashing, he caught Garacel in the leg. The living armor reeled, and he stumbled black. Sahshir pressed his advantage and drove his enemy before him. Again, Garacel met him in combat, and the Sword of Order flashed this time.


    Garacel''s blade shattered. Sahshir''s sword passed through toward his heart. But Garacel turned mid-thrust and caught the edge in one hand. The impact of it cracked and bent the fingers, but the Sword of Order was halted. The gauntlet began to melt.


    "Very swift," said Garacel. "A strike akin to lightning itself. Let me demonstrate my own." He raised one palm.


    Sahshir tried to free his sword and realized he wouldn''t have the chance. He let go and ducked just in time for a barrage of pink lightning to surge past where he had been. He felt the electrifying heat on his skin, which burned him as he fell. After that, he hardly ever felt anything. The bolt struck a nearby building, and the walls began to melt around it. In moments, the entire structure collapsed into nothingness.


    Garacel gripped the Sword of Order in his hand. But the blade was caught between his melted fingers. He tore it out With a snarl, breaking his gauntlet and raising the sword. He examined it. "A great weapon. Once, long ago, Valranor bade me wield it in his stead. I was always the greater warrior between us." He raised the weapon. "You have grown, Kalthakian. Your power has increased drastically in such a short time. Such is the way of the Lord of Knights."


    "The Lord of Knights?" Sahshir felt a chill. That title was-


    "One of the names of Elranor," said Garacel. "Though ill-fitting. The blood of the God of Healing runs through your veins. I know it by how you wield that blade."


    "You lie," said Sahshir.


    "I never lie directly," said Garacel. "Deception is far easier with a grain of truth. But this is neither. You who serve Baltoth are descended from his greatest enemy. An irony well worth savoring."


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    He took a stance as Sahshir drew out two daggers. If he pretended to be off-balance, he could catch Garacel off-guard. "My strength is my own!"


    "Of course it is," said Garacel, walking forward limply. "So Elranor would have you believe. But in the end, your strength is what has been granted to you. Mine is more than that.


    "Mine is the power eternal!"


    Then he surged forward. But his leg slowed him, and as he struck with the Sword, Sahshir rolled away. Jamming his kunai between the joint of Garacel''s leg, he leaped over a slash and vaulted over Garacel. As he did, he stopped the dagger into the former god''s neck, or where it would be. Landing, he drew out one last blade before driving it under his armpit toward his spectral heart.


    "I told you," said Sahshir. "My strength is my own."


    "...Believe what you will." gasped Garacel. "My will is done."


    Then his armor collapsed. The straps holding it together broke as the flames burned with an unyielding passion. Then it was spent, and nothing remained but dust.


    Sahshir drew the Sword of Order and sheathed it. From there, he turned and walked toward the gates. He was probably going to have to kill Narcissa in a moment. He felt nothing at the prospect.


    It was odd.


    Sahshir had not been like other men for as long as he could remember. He needed to figure out exactly where he was different. But he thought in ways foreign to them. He would see things that horrified them and find them unremarkable. Once, when Sushaki, Kushina, and he had been playing in a tree, he had accidentally knocked Kushina off.


    She''d sprained her ankle and had cried. So Sushaki had gone to her at once. So had Sahshir because that was what friends did. He''d known she was hurt, that he should be concerned. He''d known that he ought to help her, and he did.


    But he hadn''t cared.


    He knew she was in pain, but the fact didn''t matter to him. What mattered was maintaining their friendship. And helping her was part of that.


    The world was a sea of obligations. There were things one ought to do and things one ought not to do. Life was about fulfilling the expectations you were given. But Aresh had abandoned those obligations. He''d left to fulfill what he regarded as a higher purpose. Unfortunately, in doing so, he had made it impossible for Sahshir to meet his.


    That was why he had gone to kill him on that day.


    Sahshir stopped as he saw the corpse of Dakan. It lay without ahead. Looking around, he saw no sign of the head. But his hat was lying some ways away, soaked in blood.


    Now, he was delving deeper and deeper into the Sanctum of Zigildrazia. Wandering into the depths that were contrary to everything Baltoth stood for. There was a domain of ceaseless depravity and narcissism. A place where people did not act for a higher purpose. But neither did they perform as they ought to work, but because they wanted to act. And at the head was Zigidrazia, Lady of Sloth and Lust.


    Narcissa had been beneficial. Sahshir would have preferred not to kill her, yet he wouldn''t mind doing it. Was there something wrong with that?


    Whether there was or not, he soon passed the passage where he had found the Grail of Immortality. He walked now alone into uncharted halls. The flagstones were breaking apart. In their place was a substance that was like glass but clearer. And beyond that glass, he could see visions of hell and endless depravity.


    And then, at long last, he entered the place he had been seeking.


    There stood the Blade of Chaos. It was impaled into a massive, still-beating heart that floated high above a throne at the far end of a gilded hall. Many hundreds of weapons and armor were hung from the walls with all manner of emblems. And there lounged Zigildrazia. She had taken on a form older than he would have expected. Nine tails came from her back, hairless and multicolored, with wicked-looking blades.


    Four were wrapped around Narcissa and her twin, running over their bodies. Zigildrazia herself leaned on one arm of her throne. As he entered, she brightened up. "Ah, Abdul Sahshir. The would-be hero. I must thank you for destroying that decadent old piece of armor.


    "Garacel lasted in it far longer than I would have anticipated. He kept himself alive in it more out of principle than anything else. I was becoming concerned he would never die.


    "Tell me, what do you think of my handmaidens?"


    Sahshir hurled a dagger at her. Zigildazia caught it between two fingertips and looked at him. "Hmm, excellent, make this. Nothing too fancy. Still, some of the angles make it less aerodynamic.


    "I don''t usually work on kunai, but I could improve this somewhat."


    Sahshir rushed at her, Blade of Order swinging down. Zigildrazia did not look up, but her tails slashed out, forcing him to withdraw. He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and saw he''d been injured.


    Well, so much for confronting her. He looked at the wall and noticed tapestries. How many were there?


    "Oh, you noticed them," said Zigildrazia. "I don''t much enjoy them as decoration, but it''s a rare act of principle on my part. You see, you aren''t the first would-be hero to barge into my halls and try to kill me.


    "I have entire rooms dedicated to my prizes.


    "I''ve faced millions of would-be heroes. And I''m not making a poetic exaggeration when I say that. I counted."


    As she talked, Sahshir drew out a bandage and began to wrap it around himself. Zigildrazia watched in bemusement. "One of those silent, detached sorts, are we? Not my type, I''m afraid. I''ve always preferred heroic adventurers trying to do the right thing. Especially when they ultimately fall short of their own impossible standard.


    "Paladins are a particular favorite. I''ve taken to collecting them, actually. All are still alive and well, of course. Physically, at any rate."


    Sahshir finished bandaging his cut. She wasn''t even taking him seriously, was she? Well, it was justified. He wouldn''t be able to defeat her directly.


    "No matter," said Zigildraia, setting the twins down. "You''re just in time to see the unleashing of Typhos. But, my dears, do deal with him. It should be entertaining."


    The two twins landed and readied their weapons. Sahshir took a stance as they advanced on him. How did he win here? By achieving his goal. What was his purpose? To retrieve the Blade of Chaos and stop Typhos'' rising.


    He ran for a wall, grabbed a sword handle, and began to pull himself up to it. He narrowly avoided an axe cutting off his foot as he did.


    He scaled up and moved the sword to the heart above the throne. Below, he saw Zigildrazia raising a tail. A beam of violet light shot out. Sahshir leaped quickly and caught hold of a shield, even as the light blasted where he had been. Then, it began to move toward him. Quickly, he scrambled higher, desperately trying to stay ahead of more beams.


    Then he was near the heart. But beams were coming at him from every direction. He leaped for the Blade of Chaos. He drew his sword and rammed it into the seat as he did. His hand gripped the blade, drawing it out as he fell back.


    There was an unholy roar of fury.


    The ceiling cracked and began to break apart as he fell. The gilded walls collapsed as the trophies of Zigildrazia faded. He hit the ground at a roll and found himself within a small round chamber. But the ceiling was torn apart, and a shadow was cast over the stars. The innumerable heads of Typhos peered down upon them. They were lions, serpents, dragons, goats, and many others. Sahshir could see thousands of legs of all kinds as the shadow that had been growing now took on a new form.


    "Queen Typhos!" said Zigildrazia with a flourishing bow. "An honor as always."

 Chapter Twenty-three: Typhos Transcendent

    Typhos spoke. It sounded like thousands of different kinds of animals speaking at once. It was deafening, and Narcissa fell to the ground, screaming. Alkela remained behind, looking up in awe. It was all Sahshir could do to stand and take a stance.


    Wait, what was he doing taking a stance? He was in a room with two godlike entities of unfathomable power allied against him. He turned and ran for his life. As he did, their words reached him nonetheless.


    "Yes," said Zigildrazia. "I apologize for the blade through the heart burning through some of your power. You know these destined heroes are always throwing plans into disarray. My sincere apologies, really."


    The hallway was no longer translucent. Whatever material it had been made from was cracking, and through it was seeping a red mist. The very presence of it hurt Sahshir''s skin, but the Sword of Order flared, and it was driven away. Typhos spoke again.


    "And it has been returned to you." continued Zigildrazia. "Even now, its power grows as the chaos sewn long ago comes to the front. Monsters and men consume each other, and nations fail.


    "The world awaits only your return to destroy stagnation and liven things up."


    Typhos snarled something incomprehensible.


    "Did I?" asked Zigildrazia with a laugh. "How unfortunate. I must have been very bored. At any rate, I did overthrow her in turn. Her domain as the Demonic Archon of Lust has passed to me." Typhos replied again. This time, there was sarcasm in her tone. But the voice faded as he ran with all he had.


    Sahshir stumbled up the steps and out of the Sanctum. He found the doors were broken open and the walls cracking. Shadows were seeping out of the cracks, taking on monstrous forms. Many-headed serpents around him. Two-headed lions emerged from side rooms, roaring. Sahshir hacked and slashed through the snakes, but their heads regrew. He leaped over the lions and found himself cornered. Wielding the Blade of Chaos and the Sword of Order, she desperately hacked and slashed around him. Both flared with an unworldly light, and he killed them by the dozens.


    But there were always more.


    Stumbling out into the street over their corpses, Sahshir rushed through the gate. Heaving them, he slowly closed them. Finally, they shut with a clang. It held them momentarily, and he stumbled out to the streets. Gasping, he fell to his knees.


    The sun had been shining before. But now it was darker out here than it had been inside. Turning up, he saw the form of Typhos flaring into life. Innumerable tendrils that pained the eyes coiled around taller structures. Giant claws were perched upon the dome of the Sanctum.


    Sahshir forced himself to stand as best he could. He had to stop this abomination somehow. But how could he? What hope did he, a mere mortal, have against such a creature?


    The Sanctum''s dome cracked from the outside, and then many tentacles burst forth. The stones shattered as something indescribable arose. It had tendrils and millions of heads of all kinds. And from it came innumerable voices, screeching with incomprehensible glory.


    The veil was torn apart. Sahshir averted his eyes from the horror now coming fully into the world. It clambered over the buildings, spewing blood upon the ground. That blood soaked over the corpses, and the bodies grew. They sprouted tentacles or took on aspects of animals as they arose in new, twisted lives.


    Every one of them rushed toward the outside of the fortress. They paid no heed to Sahshir. He was beneath notice.


    Sahshir got back on his feet with some difficulty. But, he would not be overlooked. He would make this cosmic horror regret its arrogance.


    Snatching up his swords, he sprinted toward the nearest leg. Scaling up a building, stone by stone, he reached the top. As he did, the portion landed on the building. Rushing toward it, Sahshir leaped onto the leg and slashed at it with both swords. The blades cut deep, and the leg recoiled. He barely held on and stabbed the Blade of Chaos in the leg. From there, he pulled up and stabbed the Sword of Order higher up.


    In this way, he scaled up, stabbing and hacking. Only minor wounds were being dealt to this monstrosity. But a thousand flies could kill a lion.


    Beneath him, he saw Typhos pass over the walls. The horrors were streaming out of the gates toward the legions. Cries of horror came from them as they fled before the beasts. But one legionary stood tall, calling aloud to his brethren. Rallying as many as he could, he formed them into a line on a hill. There, they stood their ground, creating an island of order among the chaos. The men flocked to them or ran all the faster as they chose.


    Sahshir scaled higher, inflicting many more minor wounds. Tentacles surged at him from elsewhere, but he hacked them off. Now, he was near the body.


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    His muscles were burning. His every inch ached.


    Pulling himself onto the main body, he hacked with the Sword of Order at the leg. The first blow sank deep. The second cut bone. The third cut it off. An ocean of blackness spewed from the wound, and wherever it fell, vast forests grew out of the ground.


    Then, from the wound emerged another arm that twisted upwards so it clawed at him. Sahshir leaped away from the slash and sank the Blade of Chaos home. Then, as the hand reached for him, he slashed off three fingers.


    The arm twisted as tendrils grew from the bloodied stumps and slashed at him.


    One of them caught him in the hand. Sahshir felt a searing pain and fell backward. Looking at his hand, he saw two stumps and three fingers. He''d lost two of them and felt nothing. Clutching the wound, he realized as he fell that he must slow his fall, or he would die.


    Shifting his weight, he guided his descent and surged toward one of the legs. It was reaching for the still-fighting knot of legionnaires. Driving the Sword of Order in, he slowed his fall, slicing the arm in half lengthwise as he descended.


    Finally, he hit the ground. Drawing off his scarf, he wrapped the fabric around his bloodied stumps. Tying it tight, he took the Sword of Order in an underhand grip and rose.


    Looking around, he realized he was on the hill. The tides were washing against the legion remnants. Those who had fled were being overtaken. And the broken forms of Typhos'' arms began to shift and reform into monstrous serpents of bone. They surged toward the legion lines.


    Sahshir ran to aid them.


    Yes, they were his enemy. But they were men of order in their own way. They did not deserve to die in such a way. Their lines were now only two thick, which was for his benefit. He vaulted over them and began to slash and hack, dodging and weaving as he cut down monster after mother.


    One of the serpents of bone rose above him and snapped at him. He rolled away and half-cut through its neck with a downward stroke. It reeled back, bleeding fire. Sahshir slashed through the other half without a word. The turf around him was set aflame by the blood. As he passed it, he saw a wave of ice engulfing a nearby area.


    That same legionnaire had killed the other serpent. Now, he stood alone. Sahshir landed and fought his way toward him, hewing down many. Then, he came to him at last, and they covered for one another. Back to back, they made a wall of bodies wherever they went. And strange new plants grew as the blood of Typhos'' children spilled out over the ground.


    Soon, they were surrounded by a great forest of thorns that grabbed them.


    Hacking down the limbs of the trees as they went after them, they soon found themselves alone. Halting, Sahshir looked at the corpses and felt suddenly weak. He collapsed to one knee and looked up at his unexpected ally. The legionnaire looked at him.


    "I remember you," he said. "You landed upon that airship."


    "And you fought valiantly," said Sahshir. "Who are you?"


    "I am Marius of the Legions." said the man. "You?"


    "Abdul Sahshir," said Sahshir, resting on his blade. "Why?"


    "Why what?" asked Marius.


    "Why such butchery?" asked Sahshir. "You killed men, women, children."


    "We had no choice," said Marius. "Zigildrazia is a plague on our society. For a time, we thought we had limited her to Zigilus. But her cults were spreading throughout the cities."


    "And that justifies genocide?" asked Abdul.


    "The worshippers of Zigildrazia are savages," said Marius. "They kill children for being unpleasant to look upon. Babies are sacrificed in the fire in bloody orgies. They think nothing of it. There is not one good person among all the servants of Zigildrazia. Not one.


    "For she is the divine usurper. Of her sister and of Safara."


    "The Love Goddess," said Sahshir. "She resides in Ruscow."


    "Yes," said Marius. "And she is the rightful god of Dinis before you Calishans took her from us. In her absence, Zigildrazia filled the void. Now we see the results."


    "Your butchery created these horrors," said Sahshir.


    "Then it will end them as well," said Marius.


    "You are overconfident," said Sahshir. "The beast we fight is a god."


    "Actually," said Marius, "it is an avatar of a god."


    "What?" said Sahshir.


    "You did not seriously think that we mere mortals could deal true injury to such a being?" asked Marius. "What we face is a mere figment of Typhos'' true self. The bulk of her power lies dormant deep beneath the ruins of the west. No doubt, she will attempt to access that once we''re finished here.


    "Destroying the heart of Typhos was one of our goals."


    Sahshir went cold. "...Do you have a plan?"


    Marius remained silent. "If we stab it enough, it may bleed out."


    "Let''s do that," said Sahshir. Yes, it was futile, but it was core to make plans around.


    They staggered out of the forest, hacking their way through the thorns. When they emerged, they saw the landscape shifting. The ground was sinking in as pools of green liquid filled them, steaming. Zigilus was shaking as great spires of rock rose in one place and another. Anyone left within was probably going to die.


    But the legion still fought on. There were only a few now, but they were surrounded by the corpses of the horrors. Several broken limbs of Typhos were around them. How?


    Sahshir looked and saw the Sword of Order gleaming. Had the blade inspired them? Or was this something else?


    But Typhos remained on high. She had withdrawn her limbs and was merely swirling high above. Sahshir tried to make out her core head, the one giving the commands. But there didn''t seem to be one. And she will be transforming this place.


    He and Marius hurried toward the battle, but it seemed to be winding down. The horrors had ceased to rush. Only a few legionaries remained, a paltry remnant of a once magnificent army. But they cheered when Marius returned.


    "Tribune Marius," said one, "we feared the worst." S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well done, all of you," said Marius. "With this man''s aid, we triumphed. Once we have secured this place, we will ascend into Zigilus and finish our work, once and for all." He paused. "Where is General Ariadus?"


    "He fled." said a man. "I saw him fleeing with the others."


    "No, he didn''t," said another, "he was trying to rally the deserters."


    "If the latter, he may return to aid us. If the former, he will stand in shame," said Marius. "But, we will finish our work here, nonetheless."


    Sahshir was impressed with his determination. Less so with his intelligence. Above them, Typhos arose into the sky and was gone from sight.

 Chapter Twenty-four: Ascension

    The men looked warily at Sahshir as he approached. Most of them were wounded in one way or another. Many were lying about being tended to. But they had formed around a golden standard shaped like a honey badger.


    A formidable animal for formidable men. Even Baltoth knew to fear the Calishan Honey Badger, for one had nearly slain him.


    "How do we know we can trust this Kalthakian?" asked a man, one of the few who were not wounded.


    "He is no enemy of Zigilus, Amus. And we need help," said Marius.


    "How can we hope to seize Zigilus now?" asked Amus. "We have saved the standard, but the fortress still stands."


    "We must make an attempt," said Marius. "It may be that they have suffered as desperately as we have. Can we wait for the others?"


    "It may be days before he returns," said Arus. "And I do not think we have that long."


    "Then, we must complete our mission before that happens," said Marius. "We will press on once we are ready."


    Marius'' eyes fell on Sahshir''s hand. Sahshir shifted as he did. "You are injured. Let my healer tend to you."


    "I would appreciate that," said Sahshir.


    Marius turned to one of his men. "You, where is Akius, the physician?"


    An older man hurried forward, carrying a staff on which he supported himself. His skin had several scars, and his eyes were one of a man who had seen too much. Sahshir had seen the like among Asim''s older warriors. "Here, sir."


    "See to his injuries at once. We cannot afford to lose anyone to them," said Marius.


    Akius nodded, and Sahshir sat down on a stone. As the man drew near, he looked out over the twisted landscape. Monstrous creatures began to ride out of the ground but did not attack. Instead, they wandered away as new plants grew up to shield them. Typhos'' wrath seemed to have turned elsewhere.


    "Let me see your hand, boy; I may be able to heal it," said Akius.


    Sahshir drew off the scarf and pulled off one of his gloves. He felt a little pain from the sumps. Akius'' eyes widened as he sat on the flesh, covered in boils. "...What happened to you, boy?"


    "A curse from Laevian, long ago," said Sahshir.


    "My sympathies. I will see what I can do," said Akius.


    His spells healed the wounds, and much of Sahshir''s pains and aches were recovered. Yet the fingers did not regrow. As the man worked, Marius moved up to him. "With such an injury, how did you fight?"


    "I don''t feel my body as I once did," said Sahshir. "This only gives me a mild ache."


    "What brought her wrath upon you?" asked Akius. "Laevian uses such curses only rarely."


    "Nothing I did," said Sahshir. "It was a curse on my father. All his sons in every incarnation are cursed with it. It took effect when he became who he was.


    "Then, he left."


    "...I remember your name now," said Marius. "You are the one known as the Leper Prince?"


    Sahshir felt injured at the name. "I am called so."


    Akius shook his head. "This infection is beyond my abilities. It fights against all efforts to restore the flesh. With time, I might deal with it. However, there are other injured men I must see to."


    "No matter," Sahshir rose up. His mouth was parched. "Do you have water?"


    Someone passed him a canteen. Opening it, he drank deeply. The sensation of the water going down her throat was heavenly. He passed it back to Marius gratefully.


    Then he arose and took hold of the Sword of Order. It filled him with power again. Now, he felt healthier than before, more focused on his journey. He had killed many foul enemies and slain monstrosities. Yet he did not want this to be his only legacy.


    "Now, we go to Zigilus," said Marius. "To finish our task. Prepare to move out, men!"


    Sahshir stood as they walked. His eyes gazed over the surroundings as they entered the unholy realm. "I believe you should let the remaining citizens live."


    "Madness," said Marius. "Why would we ever do that?"


    An appeal to mercy was worthless. "You lack the manpower to kill them all. They have been betrayed by their god and left to die."


    "Even so, we must attempt to purge them," said Marius.


    Sahshir remained silent. An idea occurred. "Would your mission be fulfilled if they fled to a separate country?"


    "...Yes," said Marius after a moment.


    "Then I will offer them all shelter," said Sahshir. "And you will let them go. In exchange, you will give them time to gather supplies."


    "Why would you do this?" asked Marius.


    Because a dependent group of refugees could be valuable to him. "My land is small. The other population may help, and they must change to survive."


    "They may change you," said Marius.


    "Baltoth''s will cannot be defied. Only appeased," said Sahshir.


    Marius said nothing.


    Together, they scaled gradually up toward the gates. By now, they were overgrown with thorny vines. Six black pillars had arisen like teeth on either side. And standing amid the gate were Narcissa and Alkela. They were a motley bunch, and many among them were injured. But they numbered nearly as many as the legionnaires, and more were coming.


    The two stood silent, with a large force of the remaining defenders. Their weapons were out. Narcissa raised her axe. "You will not pass."


    "I remember this one. She killed many of our men," said Marius as his men formed up.


    "Stay where you are if you don''t want it to be more," said Sahshir. "Stand down, Narcissa. Your cause is hopeless."


    "Hardly. I think we can take out the rest of you," said Narcissa.


    "Even if we fall, another legion will come and avenge us," said Marius.


    "Maybe, but we won''t go gently-" began Narcissa.


    "Or you can both live," said Sahshir. "I am a Prince of Kalthak, soon to be a king. So I wish to offer your people shelter in my domain as a display of good faith."


    The people eyed him. "You''re our enemy. Why would you help us?"


    Sahshir shifted and thought about the question. He didn''t actually feel sad at the deaths that had happened, nor would he have any great regret if these died. "I feel a moral obligation to protect you from extermination. Stay here, and Dinis will wipe you out. Gather your people and follow me, and you may have a chance.


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    "What keeps you here? Garacel sacrificed you on Typhos'' altar."


    Their eyes were distant and blank. As if they had become the background to a picture without an identity of their own. "We exist for Zigildrazia."


    "Have you considered existing for something else?" asked Sahshir.


    "You''re one to talk, Calishan," hissed a man. "Your kind live and die for Baltoth."


    "I serve Baltoth because I choose to. Now-" Then he stopped.


    Rage filled him. These wrangling fools had tested his patience long enough. He would kill them, strike them down where they stand! But, no, what was this sensation? He heard murmurs of anger from both sides. Men raised their swords as the glare intensified.


    "Wretched woman!" cried Marius. "What treachery is this?! Speak, or I''ll cut your eyes from your head!"


    "Kill the worshippers of Zigildrazia! Kill them all!" cried a man.


    "Death to Dinis!" cried one of Narcissa''s men.


    Sahshir stabbed the Sword of Order into the ground. There was a flash of white, and the feeling departed. Sahshir felt Baltoth''s will within him. "Hold!


    "Come to your senses! This is a spell!"


    "Indeed it is." said a very familiar voice.


    A figure of darkness descended from high and landed between them. Then, finally, the night cleared, and Sahshir saw before him a lone man. He was tall and was the fairest creature Sahshir had ever gazed upon. His skin was dark as night but without blemish, and his body was the epitome of perfection. The man''s eyes were glowing pink, and he stood with perfect poise, clad only in a white skirt that led to his knees.


    "Master Garacel?" said Narcissa.


    "Indeed, I am Narcissa. The man rose to his full height. He laughed, his glowing eyes blazing. "I feel! Flesh and blood! The sensation of the ground on my feet, the wind on my face! The scent of endless carnage!


    "How I have missed it!" Then he raised a hand, and armor formed upon his body, identical to what he had once possessed. The Blade of Chaos appeared in his hand as his face was covered. "This is the beginning for me! And the end for many others!


    "Would any care to dispute me?"


    Sahshir shifted. He had never thought Garacel would be so majestic in appearance. It mattered not. "How is this possible? I killed you."


    "You destroyed my physical body," said Garacel. "But Zigildrazia fulfilled her promise. And Typhos was grateful for my service to her." He took a stance. "Now, I will finish this, once and for all."


    Sahshir glanced back as he took a stance. "Step back, Marius. He is mine."


    Marius shrugged. "By all means, save me the casualties."


    Sahshir moved forward, and Garacel mirrored the motion. They circled one another, but Sahshir noticed something. Garacel was spinning the blade in his hand, leaving openings as if experimenting.


    Sahshir rushed him. Bringing around his sword, he found it parried. Garacel thrust in a counterattack that nearly impaled him through the head. A flurry of blows passed between them before Garacel vaulted over him, kicking him in the back. It sent Sahshir to the ground, and he narrowly rolled away before the blade was driven into the ground.


    He parried a strike and fought a losing battle against Garacel. Gradually, Sahshir was driven around the plateau and up against the cliff''s edge. He was fighting for his life for a moment, and then he found his strength growing. Something had taken hold of him. Even now, his blade was moving faster, with stronger strokes.


    Yet, Garacel increased at the same time. A glow emanated from the Blade of Chaos and the Sword of Order as they fought. Soon, it was blinding, and yet Sahshir could see. He felt now more like he was the sword in the hand of a warrior than in his own right.


    Garacel was forced back. He flipped his silver hair around him as he drew back his blade. A smile was on his face.


    "A duel between gods, is it?" said Sahshir''s wielder.


    "Baltoth?" asked Garacel. "Baltoth, is that you?! Excellent! I have been looking forward to killing you in some form for ages! Ending the existence of your Disciples'' son is beyond a good start!" Then, wings grew from his back like a hawk, and he surged into the air. As he did, he raised the Blade of Chaos skyward. Tendrils of green energy poured down from above as the blade glowed white-hot. "Death to the Archon of Pride! Glory to Valranor!"


    Sahshir found himself rising into the air to meet the creature. Wings like those of a back had grown from him as his hands became akin to claws. He now saw through a white glow as he surged to meet Garacel.


    Garacel charged down, and they clashed in midair. Sahshir used Garacel''s momentum to send him spiraling toward the ground. But the god twisted with absolute grace and redirected himself to charge again.


    They clashed again and again.


    As they did, Sahshir felt hatred welling deep in his heart. This man had invaded his city. Sacrificed so many, and for what? He attacked with greater violence, and his hatred only increased as he saw Garacel''s smile.


    Garacel weaved and dodged away. "I''ll admit, Baltoth. You''re putting up a better fight than I expected! You were always among the weakest of the Demonic Archons in direct combat! But I wouldn''t have it any other way!"


    "You are a mad dog, aren''t you, Garacel?" said Sahshir, but it was not his voice. Instead, it was an aspect of Baltoth himself, acting through him.


    "Mad?" Garacel laughed. "Perhaps I am, but it is a madness of your making!


    "Ages! Ages trapped beneath the earth! It''s laboring to send my spirit out of the mine! And for what, for stealing the love of one of your lays for the night!"


    "I loved her," replied Baltoth, voice cold as ice. "All that I have built has been in her honor. I knew that she did not return my feelings, and I accepted it. But you twisted her and transformed it into hatred." He slashed, but Garacel moved beyond his reach.


    He is always beyond his reach. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You did most of the work yourself," said Garacel. "Or do you imagine she held you in anything but contempt? I felt her mind. You were never anything more than an attack dog to her."


    "You lie," said Baltoth, voice cold.


    He surged forward, but Garacel moved aside. This time, he nearly took his head off. Sahshir winced as he felt a slash on his shoulder. Wheeling back, his left arm went limp, and his right was fighting defensively.


    "Do I?" asked Garacel. "You cloaked yourself in the trapping of order for so long that you''ve forgotten what you were born of. Pride.


    "It was not for the sake of people, real or imagined, that you laid low the Dust Elven Empires. It was to appease your pride. You would have gladly taken up the domain of chaos if Valranor had wielded that instead.


    "You sought to place yourself above gods and demons. And you killed everyone who got in your way for pride''s sake. You exploited weakness and tore down what others built! You ripped their self-image apart until they convinced themselves you did it for them!


    "You were a mad dog long before I was, Baltoth!


    "She spoke soft words to you, seduced you, then sent you toward her enemies! You never mattered to her at all!"


    The damn broke. Sahshir''s knee moved up and hit Garacel in the face. He reeled backward, and Baltoth pressed his attack. He was now fighting as a berserker, hacking and slashing. "A thousand ages beneath the earth would be too good for you, Garacel!


    "CALISHA WILL BE AVENGED!!!"


    He surged forward, and all his hatred and anger was poured out. Garacel was sent careening down toward the ground, and Sahshir was after him. They grappled, tearing and slashing at each other before finally hitting the ground. The land howled beneath their conflict as a red hand appeared in the skies above. It was blotting out the newly rising sun.


    Sahshir was thrown down and hit the ground as Garacel rose, drawing back his sword. Sahshir snatched up his sword and parried the blow. Garacel flew backward, circling around to charge forward.


    Then Narcissa interposed herself between them. Garacel veered off, sliding to a halt, as Sahshir realized the obvious. Baltoth was filled with silent fury. But he mastered himself and calculated innumerable plans. Then, he chose to wait.


    "Why do you stand between him and me, Narcissa?" asked Garacel.


    "I need him," said Narcissa. "If you kill him, we''ll be wiped out. He''s offered us sanctuary in his kingdom. If we stay here, we''ll all die. Please, Master Garacel! We need him!"


    Baltoth withdrew his wrath. Sahshir remained where he was for a moment, waiting as Garacel sheathed the Blade of Chaos. If he killed Garacel now, he could seize it back. But Sahshir was exhausted. He was more likely to be killed here.


    And he had no time to die. He had more important matters to attend to.


    The transformation upon both of them faded away. Sahshir managed to remain standing despite it. To his silent anger, Garacel showed no signs of exhaustion. He doubted he would have been victorious if that battle had gone on further. Of course, victory had been conceivable but not worth the risk.


    Of course, Garacel regarded this as a victory. And it was, in some sense, one for him. He had regained his former self, but doing so had been necessary. Zigildrazia had lost her primary agent''s unconditional fealty. Typhos had been wounded in battle and forced to withdraw, destroying many of her broods.


    Garacel turned the Blade of Chaos into a replica of his earlier katana as he slid it into a sheath. "Very well, then. I have had the satisfaction of victory. Nevertheless, I will spare your life for the sake of Narcissa and her people."


    "If you ever threaten my people again, you will die for it," said Sahshir, refusing to let himself fall to one knee. Although it hurt.


    "So long as my servants are treated well, you need not fear that," said Garacel. "Besides, I contend with higher powers." And he faded into pink smoke, tinged with pure blackness. All that remained were several hawk feathers.


    No doubt, Zigildrazia was crowing about how all had gone according to her plan. Perhaps Typhos had yet to take notice of Sahshir''s attack. He might have been no more than an insect beneath the gaze of higher powers. He was incapable of influencing events in any measure. To thwart their will might be like holding back the sea with a bucket. Or for a single grain of sand to resist the foot pressed upon it.


    Sahshir couldn''t care less, to be honest.


    If Zigildrazia wanted to pretend this was her victory, she could have her delusions. Dinis had been weakened, Zigilus had been destroyed, and Baltoth stood triumphant. Best of all, despite his enemies dying, Baltoth still had the moral high ground. All by demonstrating more care for their citizens than they did. Just because his victory was not as total as it could have been changed, nothing.


    Perhaps his actions had been but a pinprick. But a pinprick at the right time and place could be a fatal distraction. If the wound became infected, one could die from it all the same. Even so, none of that was of any further consequence. Sahshir had gotten what he wanted. None would dare speak the name of Leper Prince to him now.


    "What about the Blade of Chaos?" asked Narcissa suddenly.


    "What of it?" asked Sahshir flatly. "The sword is irrelevant. Only the wielder matters." Then he sheathed his own blade and went to get something to eat.

 Book 4: The Dark Dreamer

    And that wraps up the first book of Abdul Sahshir''s story. This installment was something of an accident. I was trying to write something new and decided to set it within the land of Calisha in the far east. Tuor was envisioned then as the first character to appear, and later Sahshir.


    Sahshir becomes the antithesis of the traditional hero in many ways. He tends towards violence, causes problems for him, and a vengeful streak. He is, by nature, a protagonist on borrowed time. The disease that is slowly killing him drives him to excel. It leads him to undertake quests for reckless glory.


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    Yet there are hints that Sahshir is more measured than he first appears. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Consequently, Sahshir is far more efficient with his time than Relma or William. Neither has come anywhere near his feats in this first book.


    However, we will be getting back to William in the next story. We''ll pick up on how he and Kiyora have been doing and what became of the demoness Arraxia. And we may, at last, meet Vanion Gabriel.

 Prologue: The Awakening

    In the depths of hell, the screams of damned souls never stopped. From the pools of blood and fire, something evil reached out. Its spirit had been at war with itself for some months. The horror of its true self had torn its mind asunder. Yet, though the reason was gone, its will remained. That will be reached around for the lost fragments of itself.


    Fragments long since cast aside now gave it a mirror. A picture of itself. With that realization, it began to reconstruct who it was and what had led to this moment.


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    It had not yet recovered itself. It was not the being it saw in the reflection. Yet it knew that it would return to that state in time.


    Soon, cruel thoughts filled its mind, and it stretched out, willing them to life. But, through them, it would return and spread destruction once again. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Through them, it would achieve its vengeance. Through them, it would be whole once more. The Dark Dreamer had returned.

 Chapter One: Divinity as Usual

    It was pouring rain in Seathorius. The wind blew through Kiyora''s hair and looked very dramatic. But she didn''t feel the cold. That was one of the fringe benefits of being a goddess in her dreams. So she went through the endless forests, and the trees yielded to her, speeding her. Then, she finally came to a rock wall and found the door.


    Of course, it didn''t look like a door. The Nakmar were good at disguising their halls. Kiyora had to figure out where to press down on the wall to get it open, and then it slid aside for her. As she walked through, she illuminated the darkness within. Her inner light was another fringe benefit. With a yawn, she stretched as the door shut behind her, and several guards approached.


    They took one look at her and knelt before her at once. "Queen Kiyora, this is an unexpected pleasure. How may we serve you?"


    "Right back at you," said Kiyora. "For some reason, I''m not waking up on schedule, and I was wondering if you needed any help?"


    "Erm, well, I am certain you could find someone," said the guard. "High Priest Bjorn is here if you wish to speak with him."


    "Great, take me to him," said Kiyora.


    She found Bjorn inside a library reading a record of her various exploits. The old dwarf had his braided white beard flowing over his lap. His eyes were scanning over the words. He looked up as she came in. "Ah, I apologize, Dreaming Goddess. I am not as young as I once was. I did not hear you enter."


    "Don''t worry about it," said Kiyora. "Need any help?"


    "There is something," said Bjorn. He put down his book and stood. "I have gathered together the priests for your new temple. And I have made arrangements for them to go by sea to Artarq. They are waiting at Port Otter for transport to become available.


    "However, with the war on, I''m afraid the Calishans will attack them at sea as soon as they get out of port. I would like you to convince Duke Vanion to provide them with an escort.


    "Okay, sure," said Kiyora. "Anything else?''


    "I''m afraid not much comes to mind," said Bjorn, looking tired. "Things have been very peaceful since that demoness replaced Melchious. She has stopped raiding us completely."


    "And that''s not suspicious at all..." muttered Kiyora. "Bjorn, send out some scouts and figure out what she''s plotting. I don''t like this."


    "I already did, and I have meant to tell you," said Bjorn. "She has begun to rebuild Baltoth''s Retribution. There are packs of satyrs working to mend its fallen spires daily."


    "Wait a minute, I thought she didn''t have any followers in that region," said Kiyora.


    "Melchious didn''t," said Bjorn. "She has her operations. And she has been converting the satyrs who once served Laughing Wraith."


    A shadow fell on the room, and Kiyora felt a sense of urgency. Someone somewhere needed her help. She received these appeals every so often. They got annoying, but she couldn''t afford to ignore them. "Okay, hang on, I''ve got a call for help. Be right back."


    And she transported herself away in a flash of light.


    She found herself in a dark wood. One of the few remaining dark woods since Laughing Wraith had bit the dust. She could hear the sound of sobbing and followed it. A little later, she found a young satyr child sobbing against a tree. They had orangish fur and were small for their kind.


    "Why are you crying?" asked Kiyora.


    "I... I was supposed to watch the sheep, but one of them wandered off," said the boy. "I can''t find her. And if I lose one, Father is sure to beat me."


    "Well, hang on," said Kiyora before looking at the trees. "Excuse me, I don''t mean to intrude, but I need your help. I''m looking for a stray sheep. Could you direct it back to this boy?"


    "I''m a girl," said the satyr.


    "Oh, sorry, I uh..." said Kiyora. Of course, she would say that all satyrs looked alike, but that would be racist.


    The tree answered. It was afraid of her. It remembered what had happened the last time their kind had tangled with her. So it agreed at once. Kiyora sensed it was afraid of being set on fire and felt guilty. "Thanks."


    "You can talk to trees?" asked the girl.


    "My people can do it easily," said Kiyora. "I guess that''s weird to you."


    "I''ve heard about you." said the girl. "Is it true you killed Laughing Wraith?"


    "Yep," said Kiyora. "Fried him to a crisp."


    "I didn''t know anyone could hurt Laughing Wraith." said the girl. "Father says he is immortal."


    "Of course not," said Kiyora, looking to change the subject. "Hey, there is your sheep." And she pointed as out of the trees came a woolly sheep which approached. The girl cried with delight and ran to him.


    "Rundas!" she cried. "Rundas, I''m so glad you''re okay!"


    "Yes, I''m sure he''ll make an excellent spread on the dinner table," said Kiyora.


    "We keep them for the wool," said the girl. "We don''t eat them much. Father says we should try to eat dwarves more than sheep. See, sheep can give us something, and dwarves kill us."


    "Oh, I see," said Kiyora, ruffling her hair. "Do you know the way back?"


    "Of course, Dreaming Goddess!" said the girl, picking the sheep up. "I''ll take him back right away!"


    And she raced out.


    "That girl is going to grow up to be a serial killer, isn''t she?" said Kiyora, glancing up at the trees. As she did, a shadow moved in the corner of her eye. She turned to look after it and peered into the darkness of the wood. For a moment, she thought she saw the flicker of a shape, tall and slender.


    But it must have been a trick of the light. When she illuminated that place, she saw nothing. Then, looking back up to the trees, she sighed. "...Make sure the kid gets back home safely. I need to meet someone."


    She had meant to have this meeting for some time but had never gotten around to it. For one thing, she wasn''t used to having a set schedule as a goddess. Up until recently, she had mostly been doing random good deeds. So it was only recently that it dawned on her that she might have other responsibilities.


    The place she appeared next had once been a majestic castle. Now, it was a worksite in a broken-down ruin. When she and William last saw it, not one stone remained on top of another; for the most part, that still held. But scaffoldings had been erected in several places, and satyrs were everywhere. The sound of hammers on chisels could be heard wherever she went. Stones were being moved by hand or in carts.


    A lone satyr stumbled as he carried a heavy load. A taskmaster saw him and was on him with a whip in seconds. He struck the poor creature twice.


    "Keep working, you beasts!" roared a taskmaster.


    Kiyora reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Hi."


    The taskmaster turned to her with fury in his eyes. Then he saw her. He trembled in fear and tore himself out of her grip. From there, he ran screaming as fast as his hooves could carry him. The other satyrs saw her and trembled in fear. It made sense. She had killed their god.


    Then, unafraid, one sizeable white-furred satyr came forward with two long scimitars. "Begone from this place, Dreaming Goddess! This domain is not yours!"


    A shadow, different in kind and shape from the other she had seen, arose over him as he spoke. It was in the form of a girl Kiyora''s age. "Peace, Doltier. We must be courteous." She paused. "Ah, the Dreaming Goddess, come to visit. What a wonderful thing to meet with you again. I was truly grieved by how our last meeting went, I assure you."


    "Grieved?" asked Kiyora. "How?"


    "You and dear William are still alive, of course," she said as though it were the friendliest thing to say. "All things go according to my infallible will, so there is no cause for concern. In truth, I was wondering when you would show up."


    Kiyora decided not to dignify that with a response while she looked at the work in progress. They had gotten the outer walls to put back together, but none of the towers had been completed. "Wow, you''re going all out with this construction project, right?"


    There was a twinge of irritation from the demoness. "Well, thanks to you, I did have my castle completely obliterated. I''ll have to repair it."


    "It looks nice. What will you do with completely broken stones?" asked Kiyora. The stones seemed almost to be jumping back into the places they fell. Obviously, this place would be fixed much faster than was expected.


    "Oh, I''m having my stonemasons reform the stone back into its original form." said the demoness. "Any stonemason worth his salt has people in his pay who can meld stone. I want this place just as it was before. Though perhaps in a different color. Now let us get down to business, hmm?"


    "Business?" asked Kiyora. "I''m here because I''m curious." Of course, she was lying; she didn''t want to seem too eager.


    "Oh, I''m well aware of that." said the demoness. "Far be it from me to presume you possess such an ugly thing as forethought. However, there is a small matter. Some of your trees have been attacking the construction. It''s getting quite tiresome, you know."


    "The last time we met, you tried to kill William and me," said Kiyora. "Why wouldn''t I want them to attack you?"


    "I haven''t been attacking you, have I?" asked the demoness. "I have no interest in your destruction at this time."


    "Which means you want to backstab me when the time is right," muttered Kiyora. "Fine, I''ll call off my trees. But I want something in return."


    "And what could be of greater importance to you than the cessation of this terrible war?" asked the demoness. "A war which even now ravages our subjects. Have you no sympathy for the innocents even now consumed?"


    "Could you be more transparently insincere?" asked Kiyora in turn.


    "Of course. It amuses me to conceal my true intentions." said the demoness with a straight face. "You would be surprised at how little I care about other people. Name your price."


    "Hmm, well, Bjorn kept going about some kickass mirror or something. That thing which zapped me before" muttered Kiyora. "I''ll take that."


    The demoness halted. "You ask a great deal, don''t you?"


    "Yep," said Kiyora.


    "You don''t even remember what it does." said the demoness. "Why do you even want it?"


    "Take it or leave it. I want the Mirror of Laevian. If you deliver it to King Houndslasher, I''ll let you finish building this castle. Or whatever it is," said Kiyora.


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    "Let me?" asked the demoness with a laugh.


    "Well, let''s face it. One word from me, and I could have this whole hillside torn down," said Kiyora. "It''s great being friends with the trees."


    "Oh, of course." intoned the demoness with apparent sarcasm. "Your might is beyond compare, and I am but an insignificant worm beside your majesty."


    "Look, are you taking the deal?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes, I have no further use for the Mirror of Laevian anyway," muttered the demoness. "I already beheld in myself the true sovereign of all creation. Indeed, my ascension is inevitable, having been written before the stars were conceived."


    "William said you ran screaming from the room in agony," said Kiyora.


    "An entirely jaundiced account." said the demoness. "It was derived from the delusions of a man attempting to deny the reality of my majesty. Do give William my regards."


    "Whatever," said Kiyora, turning to walk away. "Have fun with your god complex."


    She decided she would go and visit William. There may be better weather in Artarq. Kiyora appeared within the training grounds of the palace of the capital city of Arsheen. The keep soared skyward above their heads, and the ivory walls hemmed them in. She didn''t see William anywhere, but she did see soldiers in black armor. Lots and lots of soldiers. They locked shields in ranks of four, and they were marching. Many spear points were bristling out from between their shields.


    Observing them was a very tall woman, hands clutching a spear before her. Her golden hair was long and wavy, and she had blue eyes. Her tunic was white and clung to her. Usually, when she did this, she wore full armor. Then again, human pregnancies lasted nine months. Kiyora''s species took about twice that time. But despite her bulging belly, she held a terrifying grace. As Kiyora approached her, she tried not to feel afraid.


    "Hey, uh... Lady Azgora?" said Kiyora.


    "Yes, Dreaming Goddess," said Azgora. "What may I do for you?" Her question held none of the deference with which the Nakmar treated her. Nor did it contain any familiarity with which William or his father regarded her. Kiyora felt she was considered more a curiosity than a credible player in her own right.


    "Well, I was just looking for your son. Do you know where he is?" asked Kiyora.


    "William is in the house of Rusara, practicing his magic," said Azgora. "It is an admirable determination that has possessed him of late."


    "Right," said Kiyora. "Hey, mind if I ask a question?"


    "Yes, what is it?" asked Azgora.


    "William told me that Raynald is in charge of instructing the troops," said Kiyora. "So, why are you here?"


    "Witherarm is a dangerous warrior, but he lacks a shield arm," said Azgora. "He cannot learn to fight in a phalanx formation, let alone teach others to do so. Instead, he is charged with instructing knights in the ways of the sword."


    "Right, good point," said Kiyora. "Still... where has he been? I haven''t seen him around the last few times I''ve visited."


    "He was sent on a mission by my husband. He has been raiding Calishan shipping lanes. He hopes to distract Baltoth from his invasion plans," said Azgora. "I''m told he has caused quite a lot of damage, though Argath Marn has proved a more ruthless raider."


    "Oh, cool," Kiyora paused. "So, uh... where exactly is the house of Rusara?"


    "It is likely for the best if I have someone lead you there," said Azgora. "Arsheen is not a city one should travel unescorted."


    "I''m a goddess," said Kiyora.


    "Even gods may get lost," said Azgora with what might have been amusement. "Felix."


    Kiyora suddenly realized that Felix had been standing nearby the whole time. Somehow, the Calishan boy had escaped her notice. His hair was longer than the last time she had seen him. He''d also gotten taller in the past few months, though he was still thin as a rail. "Yes, Lady Rusara?"


    "Escort the Dreaming Goddess to the house of Rusara," said Azgora. "She would speak with my son."


    "As you wish," said Felix. "Come, I''ll take you by all the swiftest ways."


    The city of Arsheen varied a lot. Kiyora hadn''t been in it herself very much; instead, she had stuck around the palace. It was all new to her. There were flat-topped buildings in some areas, like those of the Calishans. In others, they were slanted roofs, and these looked newer than the others. There were people everywhere. Most of them were humans with dark skin like Felix. There were also dwarves and satyrs and even a few halflings. Kiyora might have lost track of her guide several times, but he constantly checked his pace.


    As they continued, the architecture along the way got weirder. It was still slanted, but the buildings became more darkly colored. There were strange angles in the most unexpected places. The more affluent houses had gargoyles on them, staring down at the street. The people here were all elves with dusty gray skin and wore long, draped robes. Their eyes were narrow, and their ears shorter than most elves. They were called Dust Elves in this world, right? Kiyora didn''t think it polite to ask here.


    "Wow, this place is amazing," she said. "What''s with all the weird architecture?"


    "This is the oldest part of the city," said Felix. "It dates back to when the Dust Elves ruled over Arsheen. Then, they ruled over Artarq and much of the realm to the east here. Many of the Dust Elves who live here today can date their ancestry back to the founders of this province. When Baltoth the Inexorable seized it, they remained here."


    "And then Duke Vanion took it from Baltoth?" guessed Kiyora.


    "That is a somewhat simplified version," replied Felix. "The local nobility wanted to stop paying taxes to Baltoth and started a rebellion. They threw out the old King Banir, but he returned with an army. They knew that Baltoth would have them all crucified if they failed. That was why they appealed to the Kingdom of Antion for support."


    Suddenly, there was movement out of the corner of Kiyora''s eye. There was a crash, and she whirled around and looked into a dark alley. But it had only been some rats that had knocked over some junk. So why did she feel like she was being watched?


    "Kiyora?" asked Felix.


    "It''s nothing," said Kiyora. "I just got startled. So what happened with the Kingdom of Antion?"


    Felix shrugged. "King Andoa II of Antion sent Sir Vanion {he was not yet a Duke} with an army to organize things and lead the vanguard. Vanion caught the Calishans off guard at the Battle of Desora. Then, under his leadership, the Harlenorians routed the armies of Baltoth."


    "So they made him governor," guessed Kiyora.


    "No, that decision would make too much sense for King Andoa''s tastes," said Felix. "Instead, he gave the job to the person who donated the most to the treasury. Lord Argath Marn got the job. Remarkably enough, he dedicated his administration to making back the money he spent. He was wholly corrupt."


    "And what happened to him?" asked Kiyora.


    "Sir Vanion had Duke Borinius arrested for treason," said Felix. "As a result, all of Duke Borinius'' friends came under suspicion, and Argath was one of them. He lost his office and the position as governor, and it was given to Vanion''s father, Garath. He ran things decently enough, and the position passed to his son when he died. Which brings us to today."


    "And now Argath is a raider?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Felix, "he''s working to redeem himself in the battle to salvage his family''s reputation. Though I''ve heard he has a patron in Gel Carn, Steward Benarus. He isn''t much of a concern, however." He paused. "We''d best stop talking. I''ve found that you never get anywhere when you have an interesting conversation."


    "Oh, come on. Just because-" began Kiyora.


    "Here we are," said Felix. "See?"


    The house they had stopped at was shorter and broader than most. The windows were open, and the scent of blood was in the air. Massacre was sitting in front of the door. Two of the illusion''s heads, the goat and the dragon, were fast asleep. The lion, however, was alert and watching.


    "Thanks for taking me here," said Kiyora. "Are you heading back to the palace?"


    "I have a message to run while I''m down here," said Felix. "My business ventures need tending. I suppose I''ll see you later."


    "Don''t worry," said Kiyora. "I can find my way back." She approached Massacre. The chimera roused herself and ran up to Kiyora, nuzzling her with all three heads. Kiyora laughed and scratched her behind her lion and goat ears. "Right. Hey Massacre girl, who''s a good girl, who''s a good girl!"


    "Bah," said Massacre''s goat head.


    "So, where is William?" asked Kiyora.


    "Inside, where else?" asked Felix. "Just listen to the sound of thankful sheep."


    "Sheep?" asked Kiyora. "What would sheep be doing here?"


    Felix sighed. "I mean the sick people he is healing. I can''t stand listening to them fawn over him. William may enjoy having people think of him as a savior. But what he needs is someone who doesn''t take him seriously." And he walked off.


    "Cynical as always," said Kiyora with a sigh.


    She entered the house. It consisted of one very long room with many beds and bedrolls laid out throughout it. At the far end of the room was William. He had gotten taller these past few months, and his blonde hair had gotten longer. However, his right eye still bore the vicious scar he''d gotten at Baltoth''s Retribution. He was speaking with a woman in concealing garments. A boy of perhaps ten was at his feet with a bandaged leg at an unnatural angle.


    "Please, Paladin, my son''s leg has been broken," said the woman. "Please heal him."


    "As you wish," said William, kneeling and placing a hand on the boy''s forehead. "In the name of Elranor, stand and walk."


    Instantly, the leg set itself. The boy gasped and then stood. The woman hugged him, while William just looked vaguely tired. "Thank you, thank you so much."


    "It''s no trouble," said William. "Go in peace."


    The woman and her son made their way out of the house. William turned his attention to a bed. In it, a woman was lying, surrounded by family. He approached quickly. "What has happened to her?" Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "She became very ill one day," said a man. "We don''t know what it is, but..."


    "The reason doesn''t matter. Be cured," said William before putting a hand on her shoulder.


    She breathed, and the unhealthy pallor faded from her skin as she rose. From there, she and her family promptly departed with many thanks and well wishes. William proceeded to do similar things dozens of times over.


    "You are rather dramatic about all this, aren''t you, William?" asked a voice.


    Out of the shadows emerged Lady Rusara. Kiyora hadn''t even realized she was here. Which was appropriate since she was the one Felix had learned it all from. She was petite for an elf, and her ears were longer than most. But William immediately turned to her.


    "Everyone here regards me as some kind of savior," said William. "They expect it."


    "You don''t need to play to their expectations, though," noted Rusara.


    "Yes, Lady Rusara," said William before looking away. "Did you hear the news? About the ships filled with malas, the ones the Calishans captured?"


    "Yes, I did," said Rusara. "I expect Magicora and the Sorcerer''s Guild mages will be furious. Still, Raynald tells me that he captured several vessels in his last foray out to sea. Unfortunately, Argath Marn also burned several Calishan villages. Though the Calishan pirate, Raj Danal, almost returned the favor.


    "We are fortunate we have a friendly port in the Kingdom of Estal. Things are beginning to heat up."


    "Do you think it will come to an invasion?" asked William.


    "Barring some entirely unforeseen event, yes. The only question is when," said Rusara. "It is strange; I would have expected the invasion to occur a month ago. But, in that time, we''ve gathered more and more strength to us. Sellswords, adventurers, crusaders.


    "What is Baltoth waiting for?"


    "You''d know better than I," noted William.


    "Yes, I suppose I would," said Rusara with a grin.


    "Um, excuse me," said Kiyora, entering.


    William looked at her and instantly brightened up. "Kiyora, I haven''t seen you in months."


    "Sorry, I''ve been busy," said Kiyora. "I''ve been working a lot more miracles than usual lately."


    "I''m glad to hear it," said William.


    "Oh, and the demoness says hello," said Kiyora.


    "Does she?" said William, sounding even less pleased. "The scar on my eye still hurts."


    "I''m sure she''ll be glad to hear it," said Kiyora before she noted another door. Curious, she made her way over and looked in. Many people were lying on bedrolls just inside.


    Their eyes were vacant and bright white, and their veins were showing. "Hey, what about them, if you don''t mind me asking? Why haven''t you healed them?"


    "Oh, uh... those are a more recent case," said William. "Malas infects them."


    "What is malas?" asked Kiyora.


    "Kiyora, do you pay any attention to this world you dream of?" asked William.


    "Not until recently, no," admitted Kiyora.


    "Malas is the reason Baltoth is so eager to regain Artarq. It is a substance that only exists near the northern border. Or at least that is the only large source we know of." said William. "A small amount of the stuff a sorcerer takes will enhance their connection to the spirit realm. It allows them to do great feats of magic briefly."


    "The catch is that if misused, it can become a highly addicting substance," said Rusara. "It eventually plunges your mind into the spirit world, so you can''t wake up anymore. That is what happened to those people."


    "So why can''t you heal them?" asked Kiyora.


    "Because healing the flesh is easy," said William. "Healing the spirit is far more difficult, and Rusara tells me I am nowhere near ready for it."


    "Right," said Kiyora, not getting it. "I thought you were practicing your magic here?"


    "I am," said William. "Healing the sick and injured lets me practice using my connection to Elranor. It also increases my renown with the common people and helps many people who need it."


    "Oh, that makes sense," said Kiyora. "So if this malas stuff is so dangerous, why do you sell to people?"


    "We don''t," said William. "Lord Marn did it before the King of Antion made it illegal. Various criminal organizations in Antion did well out of it, and some were from off-world.


    "Under Father, and we only harvest as much as the mages of Magicora and Sorcerer''s Guild need. Then they sell it to them. Unfortunately, that leaves a great many untapped sites to harvest from."


    "Then, where did they come from?" asked Kiyora.


    "The system which Argath Marn set in place didn''t disappear when he was removed from office. It just went underground," said William. "We''ve been working to clamp down on the sale. But there are a lot of smugglers. The trade is very profitable.


    "Rusara could tell you more."


    "I could," admitted Rusara, looking pleased. "Even so, I''m glad not all my lessons in Carn Gable went to waste."


    "None of them did," said William.


    At that moment, the door opened, and Felix entered. "William."


    "What is it, Felix?" asked William.


    "There is trouble at the new temple," said Felix. "Brinsiege wants to talk with you right away."


    "Right, Rusara, we''ll have to go," said William.


    "As you wish," said Rusara. "Just finish your tea; I don''t want it to go to waste."


    "I''ll go with you!" said Kiyora quickly.


    Things had gotten interesting at last!

 Chapter Two: The Nature of Stories

    Kiyora''s new temple was more impressive than she had been expecting. Much more impressive. It towered over the rest of the district like a great cathedral. Of course, it still had a bunch of holes in the walls, and the roof had fallen in, but then it was only half complete.


    "Wow, this place is huge," said Kiyora. "Did you build this all in the last six months?"


    "No, I''m repurposing it," admitted William. "It once belonged to a god that no one worships anymore. What was her name again, Felix?"


    "Typhos," said Felix.


    "Ah, right. She is the Mother of all monsters. There was a great war between her and the goddess Zeya," said William. "All the gods took sides, and eventually, Zeya emerged victoriously. Typhos'' power was sealed away in an ancient shrine.


    "Now her followers are scattered and few. All that remains of her power in Artarq is this temple."


    They entered the center of the temple and saw a brown-bearded dwarf speaking with his workers. Above them loomed a gigantic statue. It looked like a brontosaurus, except it had seven heads like that of a snake instead of one. It had three heads like that of a lion and one head like that of a goat. It also had eight legs, four like a bug and four of a lizard.


    Brinsiege, small even for a dwarf with ruddy skin and brown hair, looked up and ran up to William. He seemed determined. "I won''t do it, sir!"


    "Brinsiege, what is the problem?" asked William.


    "I won''t tear down a statue to a god!" snapped Brinsiege. "Not for any money. One has to show respect."


    "Typhos hasn''t been important in many centuries, Brinsiege," said William. "Why should we fear her?"


    "And yet she is watching us. Look at that statue," said Brinsiege. "Look at those eyes. Whatever is behind them is judging us."


    Kiyora looked up at the eyes and noticed that the eyes of the statue were all gems. That was weird. There was also a life in that gaze. Had Typhos been the one watching her? "...Hey, if this temple has been abandoned for years and years, why hasn''t someone stolen the gems?"


    "Good question," admitted William. "Brinsiege may be right. Still, we can''t just leave the statue here. This is your temple, Kiyora."


    "Why don''t we just move it down to the catacombs?" asked one of the dwarves. "We could set up a secondary shrine there."


    "Oh yes, because I''m certain Typhos will react so well to being made a secondary god in her temple," muttered Felix.


    "Better to be worshipped by some than none," said William.


    "Just leave the statue here," said Kiyora.


    "What?" asked William.


    "Put my statue up right here, see, across from it. Then give me a rainbow sword or something!" said Kiyora. "And I could be pointing it skywards, and Typhos could be roaring! And I could be riding a horse!"


    "What is a horse?" asked William.


    "A horse," said Kiyora, getting a blank look for her trouble. "An equine?"


    "What is an equine?" asked William.


    "A large pony," Kiyora tried. "Well, not really, but um... okay, seriously, how can none of you know what a horse is?"


    "If I had to guess, I''d say because there are no horses in any land I''ve ever heard of," said William. "Even Erik the Voyager never wrote of such creatures."


    "Wow, no horses. That is cool," said Kiyora. "Anyway, I want my statue to be facing the monster thingy-"


    "Typhos," said Felix.


    "-facing Typhos down and brandishing a sword," said Kiyora.


    "Correct me if I''m wrong, but you have never used a sword. In or out of a dream," said William.


    "It''ll look cool. And appearances are everything," said Kiyora. "Why do you think my people dye our hair?"


    "Very well. I''ll contact the artisans and tell them that you are changing the plan. Again." said William with a sigh. "We''ll have to create an entirely separate altar. Yet more expenses."


    "Hey, we wouldn''t even be in this situation if you had built a temple from scratch," said Kiyora. "Why do we have to repurpose this one at all?"


    "It''s cheaper this way," said William.


    "Cheapskate," said Kiyora under her breath, though she wasn''t offended.


    "What?" said William.


    "Never mind, it doesn''t matter," said Kiyora.


    William looked at her carefully for a moment. "...At any rate, how are things on your end, Kiyora?"


    "My end?" asked Kiyora. She had an end?


    "Yes, I needed you to arrange for priests to run this temple," said William. "It''s best if we have them laid out in advance."


    "Oh right, that!" said Kiyora. She vaguely remembered talking to Bjorn about this. "Um, the priests are all ready. But Bjorn is planning on sending them by sea from Port Otter. He hoped your dad would send some men to escort them, what with the pirates and all."


    "Wonderful," said William. "I''ll tell Father next time I see him."


    "So, do you want to see this statue shaper guy?" asked Kiyora.


    "His name is Vensus, and he is one of the best at his trade," said William. "If there is nothing else, Brinsiege, we''ll see him."


    "By all means. I''ve got work enough to occupy me clearing this place," said Brinsiege.


    William led them out of the temple and back into the bustling streets. The area they were in was an impressive place. There were many different holy sites, shrines, and, of course, temples. They came in all shapes and sizes. At least a hundred gods must have been worshipped in this place.


    "So, where are we heading?" asked Kiyora.


    "We''re heading to the Merchant''s District," said William. "It is the center of business in Arsheen. What we''re in now is the Temple district. Do I need to explain what its purpose is?"


    What had him so annoyed? "Nope. Wow, there sure are a lot of people here."


    "Well, it is business hours," said William. "Come."


    Vensus'' place was the exact opposite of the Dust Elven architecture. It was a house built of white pillars and elegant curves. Elaborate designs were all over the walls. They showed pictures of angels and various religious scenes. At the top of the house were four statues of angels, each facing outward on a corner of the roof.


    "So this is the place?" said Kiyora. "Pretty, isn''t it?"


    "Yes," said William. "Oh, Kiyora, a warning before we go on: Vensus and his family are from the elvish reservations. So whatever you do, do not mention Anoa the Bright or anything to do with the founding of Harlenor. It is against common courtesy when dealing with the elves."


    "I wasn''t going to," said Kiyora. "Um, so uh... who was Anoa the Bright?"


    "The founder of Harlenor United," said William. "He founded a dynasty of Kings that ruled over our golden age. Then Baltoth ambushed and murdered his last heir. After that, it fractured into three lesser kingdoms. He had a large part in destroying the old elven Kingdoms, so do not mention him.


    "If you do, Vensus would be obligated to curse his name. At that point, I would be obligated to defend it, and we wouldn''t get anything done."


    "Okay," said Kiyora.


    They walked to the door, and William knocked. It made a nice sound when William hit the door. After a moment, it opened, and out of the door peered an elf. A high elf, or so Kiyora guessed. His ears were longer than the Dust Elves. Yet they were shorter than hers, and his appearance was more angular. He was also fair-skinned with blonde hair tied into a ponytail.


    "Ah, William," he said, "You are here at last."


    "You were expecting us?" asked William.


    "Yes, I saw you coming some time ago through the eyes of my angels," said Vensus. "I''ve had them track you for quite some time. You''ll be happy to know I''ve already begun shifting the stone to make the requested changes. You really should plan these things out ahead of time."


    Suddenly, Kiyora felt an impact on her forehead. The world began to fade around her, warping and twisting. Damn it, she was just getting interested.


    "I see. Perhaps we should discuss the details of your fee," said William.


    "Of course," said Vensus. "Come in."


    "...Um, I have to go," said Kiyora.


    William looked at her in irritation. "You might at least stay long enough to see the negotiations."


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    "No, I''m waking up," said Kiyora. "I can''t-"


    Kiyora felt the impact of a ruler being slapped lightly across her forehead. "Wake up, Kiyora! I don''t pay you to sleep!"


    Kiyora caught the ruler and shoved it away before looking up to see Gisora standing across from her. The green-haired Princess looked very annoyed, but she could stay that way. "You don''t pay me at all."


    "I''m serious; this is a club," said Gisora. "You aren''t supposed to be sleeping through it."


    "I was brainstorming," said Kiyora.


    "With your eyes closed and your head on the desk," said Gisora.


    "I brainstorm in my dreams," said Kiyora. "So, what''s the agenda today?"


    "We were just discussing what the hero should be in the story," said Gisora. "Great heroes make great villains, and I need you to come up with a hero to match Laurus'' villain."


    "Right, and what was Laurus'' villain?" asked Kiyora.


    Laurus looked a bit annoyed at this. He looked just like an elven version of William, except without the scar and a bit thinner. His body language was more like Felix''s, though. "Fine, I''ll repeat myself. He''s a cunning and charismatic enemy who appears very reasonable. But he is manipulating events to cause as much chaos as possible."


    "Why?" asked Kiyora. "Why does he want to cause chaos? How does he benefit?"


    "He isn''t human," said Laurus. "Instead, he''s the avatar of a being of cruelty who enjoys toying with mere mortals. His true form is incomprehensible-"


    "Another dark god?" said Kiyora with a yawn. "Why can''t you ever make a normal villain? One that is elven."


    "Because that would be boring," said Laurus.


    "No, it isn''t," said Kiyora. "There are plenty of great villains who are merely mortal."


    "If someone is reading fantasy, they want to read about the fantastic," said Laurus. "Why have a fantasy setting at all if your villains are going to be elven?"


    "It could make for a great twist," said Kiyora.


    "Reya, what do you think?" said Gisora.


    Reya only spoke if spoken to. Her hair was dyed a darker green from Gisora''s today. A recent change. After getting the question, she adjusted her glasses nervously. Eventually, she found an answer. "I think both ideas are great."


    "That is a complete cop-out," said Kiyora. "Give us an actual answer."


    Reya froze up and stammered. "Erm... okay. Um... I think that Laurus'' idea was better."


    "Ha!" said Laurus.


    "Fine, whatever," said Kiyora. "Okay, for the hero... um, I''d make the hero a human. There are too many elven heroes, and I''d have him have long blonde hair and a scar over his right eye, but he can still see fine. He is kindhearted and brave but also seeks glory. He spends his spare time healing the sick and injured. But he does it as much to practice his skills and increase his renown as to help them.


    "He is also a complete cheapskate."


    "So, being a cheapskate aside, he''s a generic knight in shining armor?" said Laurus.


    "And what''s so wrong with that?" asked Kiyora, annoyed. "Nobody makes knights in shining armor in stories anymore. It''s all about people who want personal revenge or want to make a lot of money. I can count on one hand the heroes on television these days who act the way they do because it''s the right thing to do."


    "That''s because standard heroes are boring," said Laurus.


    "No, they aren''t! They''re only boring when being a hero is the totality of their being!" said Kiyora. "I already said that William is motivated at least partially by a desire for glory and is a cheapskate. Those two factors could result in any number of character arcs."


    "Yes, but reality is complex. In reality, there is no such thing as a hero," noted Gisora. "Everyone believes they are the hero of their own story, and media has evolved to account for that fact."


    "They account for it by making the heroes a bunch of jerks," said Kiyora. "Heroism is a quality anyone can aspire to given the right circumstances."


    "It isn''t realistic," said Laurus.


    "It is, too!" snapped Kiyora. "You only oppose the idea because you want everything to be about dastardly schemes. You think anyone with a moral compass is a boring character."


    "Calm down, both of you," said Gisora. "Reya, what is your opinion?"


    Reya paused thoughtfully. "Um, I''d rather not say."


    "I insist. Your opinion is important to us," said Gisora.


    "Erm, I think having some heroes in the story is probably good," said Reya.


    "Well, that settles it, doesn''t it?" asked Gisora before checking the time. "Now let''s call this club meeting adjourned. Kiyora, next time you come here, make sure you do something other than sleep before the meeting. I know we''re Dreamer Elves, but there are other ways to find inspiration, and you sleep too much."


    "Yes, madam president," said Kiyora.


    They parted company, and Kiyora and Reya began walking home together like always. It was a bright and sunny day, and even the shade cast by the great tree Actavosh couldn''t detract from it. Actavosh himself was in a very good mood. His enormous boughs were stretching out to catch the sun.


    Reya didn''t seem to be enjoying the day much. She looked very thoughtful.


    "Hey, Kiyora, mind if I ask you something?" she asked.


    "Sure," said Kiyora.


    "How do you come up with all these ideas so quickly?" asked Reya.


    "I told you I dream about them," said Kiyora.


    "Well, yeah, but um... usually when I dream, I dream of things I have experience with. You come up with all these weird ideas for settings," said Reya. "Like a round world, for instance. Or a flat world. I mean, I know some people can dream about things they don''t know about, but usually, they are highly trained."


    "I don''t know, I guess it''s just a talent I have," said Kiyora.


    "You should become a Dream Sage then," said Reya. "You''d be great at it!"


    "I don''t know what I want to do when I grow up, to be honest," admitted Kiyora. "Do you?"


    "I want to marry into a large harem group and have a big family," said Reya. "And I want to garden too. I want to be known as the best gardener ever to live.


    "Oh, we should marry the same guy. That way, we won''t all have to be separated after school ends."


    "Right, uh..." How did Kiyora tell her she did not see the appeal?


    Then Kiyora stopped. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end. Something was here. It wasn''t just being watched. It was a presence she hadn''t felt since she had seen him. Something moved in the corner of her eye, and Kiyora turned to look at it.


    She saw only an empty alley like before. But for a moment, she thought...


    "Kiyora, is something wrong?" asked Reya. "You just went pale all of a sudden."


    "Did you see that?" asked Kiyora. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "See what?" said Reya in confusion.


    "I uh... let''s pick up the pace, okay," said Kiyora. "I''ve got a bad feeling, and I don''t want to be out any longer." Something was out there. And Kiyora had a feeling she knew what it was.


    "All right," said Reya, not getting it.


    They came to Reya''s house soon enough, a small one for this part of the city. The roots had formed only two stories and a few dozen rooms. Kiyora had been over here many times. Reya halted as she came to her driveway and turned to face her. "Well, here I am. See you tomorrow, Kiyora."


    "Right, gotcha," said Kiyora before walking onward.


    She ran as soon as she got out of sight of Reya''s house. Not because she was afraid but because she just liked running sometimes. A couple in the street gave her strange looks, but she didn''t care what they thought of her. Soon, she came to her house and saw Dad sitting on the front terrace, painting as always.


    She waved and ran to him. Anything to forget what might be out there.


    "Hey, Dad, how''s the painting going?" she asked, coming to a halt next to him.


    "Quite well," said Dad. "Just look at this."


    Kiyora looked at the canvas. She saw a gigantic whirlpool, which was utterly black at the center. Many giant spires of rock rose from the water around the vortex. A massive tidal wave surrounded the entire thing. It stood looming over everything. The colors were bright, and it gave off a surreal, fantastic feeling.


    "What is it?" asked Kiyora.


    "It''s a world that exists on a disk," said Dad. "But the entire thing is surrounded by a huge wave. It reaches thousands of miles into the sky. And every year, the wave goes down another few inches. And one day, it will fall completely and bring about the end of the world."


    "Where do the people live?" asked Kiyora. "That''s just a huge whirlpool."


    "See those spires around the whirlpool''s edge?" asked Dad. "Each of those is miles high and has many plateaus. The people live on those."


    "And what are the people?" asked Kiyora.


    "Fish elves and amphibians. They hate each other bitterly and war all the time," said Dad. "See, a long time ago, the gods were banished from this world, I call Dresh, and demons came to rule over the fish elves. The amphibs blame the fish elves for blocking the gods out and are always fighting with the demons."


    "Sounds like it could be the site of a good story," noted Kiyora.


    "Well, maybe you could write something in it," said Dad.


    "I''m not exactly a writer," admitted Kiyora. "I come up with concepts, but that''s about it." The front door opened, and Mom walked in quickly, dressed to kill in a fancy white dress. She sighed when she saw Dad. "Idlenus, finish up, dear."


    "Why?" asked Dad. "What''s the rush, Mayora."


    "Don''t you remember the charity ball?" asked Mom. "We''re supposed to be attending it."


    "You didn''t tell me anything about this," said Kiyora in annoyance.


    "I''m sorry, Kiyora. It must have slipped my mind," said Mom. "I cooked something for you to eat when you get hungry. It''s in the fridge when you want it."


    "Right, thank you," said Kiyora.


    This wasn''t anything new. Dad was a famous painter. His family had been obscenely wealthy before he got started. He liked spreading wealth to the less fortunate and the lesser races.


    Kiyora went inside and started watching what used to be her favorite show on the TV. She wondered what she had ever seen in it with each passing moment. It had been great once before it had succumbed to a narcissistic actor who owned forty percent of the stock.


    Just when she finished the episode, she got a phone call. Picking it up, she put it to her ear. "Hello?"


    "Hey, Kiyora, what are you up to?" asked Gisora.


    "Watching what used to be a decent television show," said Kiyora.


    "Not again," said Gisora in resignation.


    "I mean, it started great," said Kiyora. "The plots were pretty intelligent, and the characters were all decent. They all shared screen time. Some of the characters were brilliant."


    "So what happened?" asked Gisora in a bored tone.


    "What do you think happened?" asked Kiyora. "They fired the lead writer and turned the show into pointless action sequences. Nobody except the insufferably smug main character gets any screen time anymore. Oh, and I forgot that part, the main character gets like... three love interests an episode."


    "You do know that marrying multiple women is normal, don''t you?" asked Gisora. "Your parents are a bit eccentric."


    "I know that!" snapped Kiyora. "My problem is that these shallow love interests are introduced once per episode. Then they disappear completely and are never mentioned again! It defies belief that anyone could have that many one-night stands!


    "And what kind of moral is it setting?


    "''Sleeping with hundreds of women and then never seeing them again is A-okay?''


    "The only way this show can be saved is if a legal attorney serves the main character."


    "Legal attorney?" asked Gisora. "What for?"


    "Demanding recompense for the hundreds of illegitimate children," said Kiyora. "There have got to be a few dozen at least. The mothers have a right to support. Then maybe he could get flayed alive by the rest of the cast for stealing all the limelight and die painfully."


    "You don''t have to watch it, y'' know," said Gisora.


    "Hey, if no one tears these trashy TV shows to shreds in the reviews, they will continue to make them," said Kiyora. "This is my time, spent for the betterment of the Dreamer Elf race. Whenever you watch quality television, do so and remember me."


    "I won''t be remembering you much, then. You know these shows cater to the lower classes, right?" asked Gisora. "Humans, halflings, dwarves, the species that only care about wish fulfillment."


    "I''m the Dreaming Goddess!" snapped Kiyora. "I''m allowed to dream, damn it! Ugh, screw this. I''m going to bed."


    "Don''t you think it''s a bit early?" asked Gisora.


    "I''ve got nothing better to do," said Kiyora. "Mom and Dad have gone to another party."


    "Isn''t that the third one this week?" asked Gisora.


    "Yup," said Kiyora.


    "I swear, your mom acts more like a Princess than mine," said Gisora. "See you tomorrow."


    "Bye," said Kiyora before hanging up.


    She ate the leftovers, climbed the stairs, and went to bed.

 Chapter Three: Plans for Victory

    When William returned to Arsheen''s palace, it was late in the afternoon, and the sun was beginning to wane. Massacre had long since wandered off independently, as was her custom. He found out where she had wandered off to when he got to the palace gates. She was sleeping directly before them, and her goat head was on watch.


    He could only surmise that anyone with business in the palace would have to tiptoe around her. It probably shouldn''t have been as amusing as it was, though he couldn''t keep smiling. William approached and nudged her with one toe.


    "Hello, Massacre. I see you are still sleeping," said William.


    "Bah," said Massacre. No doubt, she wanted him to play more harp for her. She always wanted that.


    "Not now. I''m not in the mood," said William.


    "Bah," said Massacre in annoyance.


    William made his way through the gate but slowed as he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He suddenly felt that he was not alone and put one hand to his sword as he made his way forward.


    He heard footsteps and drew his sword, whirling around to dodge a serrated blade. He deflected three strikes, backing away before he and his enemy locked blades and came face to face.


    Raynald stood where he was, a crooked smile on his scarred face. They pressed their blades against one another for a moment, and William took in his mentor. The withered-armed man was wearing an orange cloak that covered his disability. He looked in a good mood, which was not as rare as you would think. Raynald had lived a hard life, but he smiled a great deal.


    They separated.


    "Hmm, I was expecting to take you off guard," said Raynald, drawing back his sword and sheathing it. "You are getting better, William. Back so late?"


    "Yes," said William, sheathing his sword. "It has been something of a day, Raynald." He''d hoped to show Kiyora precisely the position she had put him in. She had better things to do. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, you''re just in time for dinner," said Raynald. "You''d better get into something more presentable."


    "Will you be there?" asked William.


    Raynald laughed. "No, I''ll be dining with the men. Thank Elranor, and I''ll be leaving tomorrow."


    "Leaving?" asked William. "But you''ve only just arrived. I didn''t know you were back until you tried to remove my head!"


    "Yes," said Raynald, looking regretful. "Unfortunately, Vanion wants me to go and see about raising an army. From the Lords in the northern reaches of Artarq this time. Frankly, I''ll be glad to get on the road again. I had great sports with the Calishan merchants. You should have been there."


    "Maybe next time, Raynald," said William, inwardly feeling sick at the prospect.


    He quickly got himself dressed. Then he went to the dining room, where he found Father and Mother eating together in private. There were occasional feast days where the whole court would eat together. Fortunately, this was not one of these days.


    "Sugar, Vanion?" asked Mother.


    "No, thank you. I recently received news of what goes on in the Sornian sugar plantations," said Father. "It made me feel ill to know." He looked at William. "I am told your temple will finally be built, William. I trust the funds I provided were sufficient."


    "So far, yes," said William. "I just wish Kiyora would understand what this costs us."


    "And why should she? To her, this is but a dream," said Father. "Our reality is an idle amusement to be cast aside during waking hours. To her, the construction of a temple warrants a minimal amount of attention.


    "The real question is how we can use the fact?"


    "Must every conversation involve you scheming, Vanion?" asked Mother.


    "I constantly plan, Azgora. It''s who I am," said Father. "I may carry out very few of them, but I make them all the same. William, does Kiyora have any requests?"


    "Not Kiyora, but rather Bjorn," said William. "He is concerned about the route to Seathorius. He has requested you send some ships to escort them from Port Otter to Artarq."


    "That doesn''t seem difficult." mused Vanion. "I can have a ship with an armed crew sent to the mouth of Savior''s Run. His men can board, and they''ll be off. Still, I now have an idea of how to turn this situation to our advantage.


    "Ask the Dreaming Goddess if she would allow priests of Elranor to preach his word to the dwarves."


    "That seems risky," said William. "The Nakmar worship Baltoth as well as Kiyora, just like all the races of Seathorius. It might set Kiyora against Baltoth."


    "Yes, and since she is the most active of the gods of Seathorius, I expect she will win," said Father. "Baltoth''s worship in those regions is a concern; some might be induced to march against us in time.


    "Just ask her to ask Bjorn if it would be acceptable."


    "All right," said William, not liking the idea much.


    "I don''t like all this scheming and maneuvering," blurted Mother.


    "Oh?" asked Father, voice annoyed. "And what would you have me do instead?"


    "Confront Baltoth directly," said Azgora. "Crush his armies. Burn his cities. Strew his fields with salt."


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    "Thank you for your suggestion, Azgora," said Vanion. "I prefer a less genocidal method of achieving peace."


    "And why should we seek to achieve peace?" asked Azgora.


    "We will never agree on this, Azgora," said Vanion.


    "Father, what is your plan?" asked William. "You haven''t spoken of it with me before."


    "Rusara has told you of the criminals that plague Arsheen''s poorer districts?" said Vanion. "They make a living by selling malas to Calisha. There is an assortment of other criminal activities. It''s our good fortune. Seathorius is so dangerous. It''s impossible to transport the stuff through it."


    "I''ve seen their work," said William, thinking of the unconscious people. "But what do they have to do with Calisha?"


    "Everything," said Vanion. "As long as the gangs could supply Calisha, Baltoth would not hurry to assault Artarq. However, I have made smuggling very inconvenient. This meant that the price rose.


    "Since the supply has become less reliable, Baltoth is now moving to take the province for his own. Now, how would you deal with this, William?"


    Father was testing him. William thought about his options. Calisha was the largest empire in the world. Confronting it directly, like Mother was suggesting, would be banking everything on victory. A defeat would mean certain ruin. "...I would take a defensive stance. Deal with the gangs and hold my ground," said William. He looked to where Mother was looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Mother''s strategy seems sound as well."


    "It has its merits," said Father in a voice that said otherwise. "Unfortunately, it relies on us defeating Baltoth in a prolonged war. Wars are dangerous, unpredictable, and bloody affairs. They leave nations decimated and treasuries exhausted."


    "And without them, the race would weaken," snapped Mother. "Make no mistake, Vanion, the superiority of the males in this land to my own is due wholly to their talent for war. All else followed only because of that."


    "Of course, dear," said Father. "All the same, a lengthy conflict is in no one''s interest. Thus, I plan to defeat Baltoth in one major battle and offer him favorable terms."


    "What terms?" asked William.


    "I will agree to sell Calisha malas at far lower prices than the gangs," said Father. "We don''t have to worry about smuggling or bribery, so it will be simple to outbid our opponents. Baltoth will pay us for his malas, and the criminals will lose their source of revenue. And we will have a moderate victory.


    "Everyone will win."


    "Yes, but we don''t want everyone to win, Vanion," said Mother. "What we want is for Calisha to be destroyed. Or do I have to tell you your god''s view of the matter?"


    "Yes, yes, and I''m sure Elranor''s ultimate victory will be glorious," said Father. "In the meantime, however, we gain much more by peace than war."


    William felt troubled. "Father, won''t sell malas to the Calishans harm the common people? I''ve seen what it does to people."


    "You needn''t fear," said Vanion. "Baltoth will want it to enhance the power of his sorcerers. He won''t waste what he buys on ordinary folk."


    "Then why don''t we offer these terms now?" asked William. "Why do we have to beat Baltoth on the battle field?"


    "If Baltoth thinks he can just take what he wants, he will try," said Father. "If he suffers a defeat and I offer my terms, he may take my offer and go home, proclaiming a great victory.


    "Another victory over Calisha will improve my standing in the court of Antion."


    "You would defeat your enemy by giving him what he wants," snapped Mother. "There is no glory in that."


    "If it is any consolation, Azgora, people don''t always enjoy getting what they want," said Father. "We should change the subject."


    "So be it," said Mother. "William, tell me, why is it that you have not destroyed the statue in the temple of Typhos?"


    And here was where things would get awkward. "I didn''t want to alienate a god," said William.


    "Typhos is an abomination," said Azgora. "That her worship was once allowed here is an unforgivable mark on the honor of this place."


    "Mother, Typhos was defeated long ago. All I''m doing is showing respect for a defeated adversary," said William. "It isn''t going to make her any less sealed."


    At that moment, the door opened, and Massacre barged into the room, having learned to open doors about a month ago. Making her way up to William, she brushed against him, nearly knocking him out of his chair. "Bah."


    "Begone from this place, beast," snarled Mother.


    "Mother, Massacre isn''t trying to provoke you," said William.


    "Her very presence here is a provocation," said Azgora. "The spawn of Typhos will never be welcome in my presence."


    "Bah," said Massacre, looking at Mother as though daring her to try something.


    William had to get Massacre out of there before Mother grabbed a broadsword. "Alright, I know I promised to play music for you. Mother, Father, I''ll take her out of here."


    William led Massacre into a large hall with a high roof. It was here that he always played music for her. It reminded him of where Rusara taught him to play the harp back home in Carn Gable. Unhooking the Goldenwood Harp from the wall, he strung it and began to play.


    The music was off this time. William wasn''t sure why, but he tried to play all the same. Massacre picked up on it and nuzzled him. "Bah."


    "Sorry if I''m playing a bit off, Massacre," said William. "There was this girl earlier. She was sick, and I couldn''t do anything to help her. I know I''ve helped many people, but that makes the ones I can''t save even worse.


    ''Back when I couldn''t do anything, it was easy to pretend as though there wasn''t anything wrong with the world."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Yes, I know I''m talking too much," said William.


    Then he looked up to Felix, who was always around him like a shadow. It seemed almost unnatural when he hadn''t been with him today for a while. But Azgora had wanted him to run some errands. "Felix, what do you think of Father''s plan?"


    "It may work," said Felix. "Giving Baltoth what he wants after dealing him a defeat will certainly get him to go elsewhere. In this way, Harlenor will profit from the malas trade. I''m going to invest in the malas business next. If all this works out, the industry will see a serious profit rise."


    "Still, Baltoth is the great enemy," said William. "He murdered Anoa IX and ended the line of Anoa the Bright. Is it Elranor''s will that we compromise with him?"


    "William, I''m a distant descendant of Baltoth. How do you expect me to know?" asked Felix.


    "I suppose that was a foolish question," said William, pausing momentarily. "Felix?"


    "Yes," asked Felix.


    "I''ve known you for years," said William. "Yet I don''t think I''ve ever heard what your life was like before you ended up at that slave market. I know you were a noble, but..."


    "There isn''t much to tell," said Felix. "I wasn''t a noble, more... well, yeoman is the closest thing you have in Harlenor, though I was a very rich. My mother was descended from one of Baltoth''s many mistresses. She married the wife of a Calishan tax collector and had me. He performed his duties faithfully for years. Then, one day, I saw my mother arguing with my father about something. I didn''t understand it then, but I do now.


    "Father had been skimming off the top of the taxes he collected to Baltoth. Mother was angry because Baltoth always found out about corruption sooner or later. She was afraid he would get caught."


    "Did he?" asked William.


    "I''m here, aren''t I?" asked Felix. "Because the next day, armed guards broke down the door and took us prisoner.


    "The penalty for corruption in Calisha is crucifixion. They nail your hands and feet to a cross and hoist you up so you are suffocating in midair. It takes hours, even days, to die.


    "Everything we owned was taken to pay back the debt. When that wasn''t enough, they sold my mother and me into slavery. We ended up in Artarq on the market. We were lucky Duke Vanion bought us."


    "I''m sorry," said William.


    "It''s my father''s fault," said Felix. "He should have known that Baltoth isn''t called The Inexorable for nothing. I''d rather not talk about this anymore, William."


    "Right, I shouldn''t have brought it up," said William.


    "You couldn''t have known," said Felix.


    William began playing again. He played and played until Massacre finally drifted off to sleep. And when the chimera was sleeping, he went to bed himself.

 Chapter Four: The Healers House

    William looked at himself in the mirror. The white cloak and tunic he had wrapped around him fit the image he wanted to project. Father had told him he had to do more than heal the sick and injured; he had to fit the part. He could be known as more than a miracle worker with proper presentation. He could be recognized as a messiah. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    William didn''t particularly want to be known as a messiah. But as a noble, he was obligated to bring further glory to his family and nation. So he took Father''s advice. Then, there was a flash of light, and Kiyora appeared.


    "Hey, how is it going?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well enough," said William. "You''re here early."


    "I have the day off today, so I figured I''d sleep and see if anyone needed help," said Kiyora. "I should swing by the Nakmar and see if they need my help, too. Though it''s been a pretty slow few months since I met you."


    "It''s been nearly a year," said William.


    "Right in dream time. Not real-time," said Kiyora. "So, anything you need to talk to me about?"


    William straightened his cloak and sighed. "Father has agreed to send the escort. It would help if you talked to him about the exact details. However, there is something else. Do you believe the dwarves would take offense if we sent some priests of Elranor to preach his word?"


    "I dunno. Maybe, maybe not," said Kiyora. "Why do you ask?"


    "My Father was hoping to send missionaries, but he doesn''t want to offend you," said William.


    "Eh, I''m pretty indifferent to religion," admitted Kiyora.


    William stared at her. No matter how long he knew her, she never stopped finding ways to amaze him. "You''re a god. You are a religion incarnate."


    "I''m pretty chill about it, is what I''m saying," said Kiyora. "I''ll talk to the dwarves about it."


    "Thank you," said William.


    "Hey, is something wrong?" asked Kiyora. "You seem a bit out of it."


    "I was thinking about those infected by malas," admitted William. "I wish I could help them." Unfortunately, healing them would only increase his reputation, which would be the right thing to do.


    "Come to think of it, they''re in a sleep they can''t wake up from, right?" said Kiyora.


    "Yes, what of it?" asked William.


    "Well, I''m the Dreaming Goddess," said Kiyora. I can do something about it.


    "Kiyora, I don''t mean to offend you, but Elranor is a much more powerful god than you," said William. "If his magic can''t do anything, what hope does yours?"


    "Sleeping is my specialty," said Kiyora.


    William met her gaze. Was she serious? Then again, she might have capabilities Elranor did not. "All right, I''ll take you to her. Felix, where is my sword? I could have sworn it was there on the table."


    "I hung it up, obviously," said Felix, retrieving it from the wall. "You really shouldn''t just throw powerful artifacts anywhere."


    "Right, right," said William.


    He took the blade from Felix and unsheathed it. The sword had grown with him. However, that was not the first change it underwent. After he''d cut Laughing Wraith with it, the blade had turned entirely black. And when Rusara reformed the metal after it was broken, she placed many glowing red runes on the hilt.


    "Felix," said William, "has Rusara ever told you what these runes were for?"


    "No," said Felix. "She just took the blade from me and worked magic on it. It was probably some blessing or protection sigil. She does know more sorcery than just setting people on fire."


    "I hope so," said William with a slight smile as he sheathed the blade. "Come on, let''s go."


    The trip to Rusara''s house went by very quickly. The streets seemed to fly by to the point where it seemed strange. Finally, William knocked on the door and had only to wait a minute before it opened. Rusara looked through, looking very tired. "William, I wasn''t expecting you for another day."


    "The situation has changed," said William. "Kiyora believes she will be able to heal malas sickness."


    "Well, she is welcome to try," said Rusara. "There are plenty with that affliction today."


    She led them in, and William saw row upon row of people afflicted with malas. There weren''t enough bedrolls for them all. You could hear them groaning in agony, even those without wounds. Seeing all those pure white eyes looking at them made him shudder.


    "What happened?" asked William.


    "Right after you left, people started pouring in with their afflicted," said Rusara. "Word of a great miracle worker has spread, and they are willing to try anything."


    "But so many..." said William.


    "Far more than I believed," said Rusara. "And more are coming in by the hour."


    William looked at Kiyora. She was clutching her head as though in pain. Her eyes were distant, and she looked out of it. "Kiyora, are you alright?"


    "I... it''s nothing," said Kiyora. "My head just hurts. I haven''t felt this way since- never mind." Then Rusara looked out the window. Her eyes narrowed, and William got a chill from the look on her face.


    "If you''ll excuse me, I must attend to something. I won''t be a minute, William."And she walked out the door. William followed and saw her walking towards a Calishan man. He''d been offering some children packets of a golden brown substance.


    "Children," said Rusara, taking the packets from them, "I''m afraid I need to speak with your friend. Run along now; I''ll tell you a story later."


    "But Rusara.." began one.


    "Now," said Rusara.


    The children dispersed, and Rusara looked to the Calishan. "Reus, just what do you think you are doing here?"


    "I''m plying my trade," said Reus. "What does it look like?"


    "Interesting," said Rusara. "Tell me something. Do you think that just because you are part of the Fists of Baltoth gives you a right to sell malas on my streets?"


    "Last time I checked, Duke Vanion''s barely got enough troops to protect his palace." snapped Reus. "The rest are all moving out. So maybe you should be like him and think of your safety."


    "Have care," said Rusara. "You will not enjoy my displeasure."


    "Oh right, you''re going to-," began Reus.


    Rusara snapped her fingers. Reus'' pantleg began to smoke and burst into flame. He screamed as he tried to beat it out, but the fire spread rapidly over him. He tried to run, but his legs would not move. The flames began to consume his entire body. The smell of burning flesh was everywhere.


    "Mercy! Mercy, please!" screamed Reus.


    Rusara said nothing; they just stood there and watched. She watched as Reus was reduced to a charred skeleton, still flaming. Kiyora observed that the skeleton fell to ashes. She watched as those ashes blew away, leaving only a scorch mark where once there had been a man.


    Rusara turned and walked back to the house.


    "Alchara above!" said Kiyora. "You just... just burned that guy alive."


    "Yes, and from now on, anyone who sees the mark will know what it means to cross Rusara," said Rusara. "Now come, dear, I''ll make some tea. Best to try healing malas sickness with a clear head."


    "Okay, no, this is not one of those things where you just pretend nothing happened," said Kiyora. "You just burned a man alive!"


    "A man who had probably destroyed many of the lives now at stake within my house," said Rusara. "Don''t trouble yourself; he deserved it."


    "Okay, how about you leave that to a court of law," said Kiyora.


    "I left specific orders. Anyone peddling malas in this area should be executed," said Rusara. "I was merely carrying them out."


    "And who are you to-?" began Kiyora.


    Rusara fixed her with a look both sympathetic and firm. Kiyora shut up. "Dear, I understand that where you are from, things are different. However, you must realize that I am not merely here as a healer. Far from it, I am the leader of the Dust Elf population of Arsheen. My authority comes directly from Duke Vanion himself and his from the King of Antion."


    "So... you can legally go around executing people?" said Kiyora.


    "Quite," said Rusara. "Though I expect if I did it too much, Vanion would take issue, and I''d be reassigned. My task is to keep order. Now that that unfortunate business is out of the way, how about we see about helping the less fortunate?


    "You may start wherever you wish."


    Kiyora approached one of them, a girl who looked about twelve. Putting a hand on her forehead like she had seen William do, she tried to stretch forth her will. But she couldn''t. Something was stopping her. She pressed against it, but her will was repulsed.


    "...something is stopping me. It''s like there is a wall around her mind," said Kiyora. "I can''t get through it."


    "Ah, well, that reveals a great deal, doesn''t it?" asked Rusara.


    "What do you mean?" asked Kiyora.


    "You are a goddess, my dear, and all gods are bound by laws," said Rusara. "Among these is a rule that the gods are not permitted to make war on one another directly. Instead, they must do so through mediums, such as paladins. William is an example of that."


    "So?" asked Kiyora.


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    "So if you are forbidden from working a miracle directly upon these people, what does that mean?" asked Rusara. "It means that another god is possessing their will."


    "Okay," said Kiyora. "So, I can''t do anything?"


    "Not directly," mused Rusara. "However, if you were to imbue someone with authority by your command, that person might act in your stead."


    "Right, sure, whatever," said Kiyora, uninterested. "Hey, William-"


    "No," said William, already guessing what she would say.


    "Why not?" asked Kiyora.


    "I am bound to the will of Elranor," said William. "I cannot serve two masters."


    "I''m not asking you to do anything you wouldn''t have done anyway!" said Kiyora.


    "I am a paladin of Elranor," said William. "Not a paladin of the Dreaming Goddess. I like you, Kiyora, but I am committed."


    "Oh well, I guess they die, and you fail as a paladin," said Kiyora.


    William saw her point. "You could give your powers to Felix."


    "No," said Felix.


    "Oh, come on," said Kiyora.


    "I am bound to serve William," said Felix. "If I were to accept status as your servant, there would be a conflict of interest."


    "I could give my powers to Massacre," said Kiyora.


    "Oh yes, because I''m sure a man-eating chimera would be suited to healing the ills of these people," said Felix. He glanced at Massacre. "No offense."


    "Bah," snapped Massacre.


    "But I don''t know anyone else!" said Kiyora. "No one that isn''t in Seathorius anyway!"


    "What about-" began William.


    "I am not giving powers to that bloodthirsty flame lover!" snapped Kiyora.


    "I''m not bloodthirsty," said Rusara. "Although I wouldn''t accept the offer anyway. I serve Laevian, Lady of Disease, and the Wild."


    "So we''re at an impasse," said William. "We can''t heal them without Kiyora giving her powers to someone. And no one suitable is willing. What now?"


    "Will, maybe you could commune with Elranor and get some kind of dispensation," said Kiyora.


    That damn nickname again! When was she going to stop calling him that? "My name is William, and I can''t exactly walk up to the heavenly gates and request an audience. I don''t meet Elranor; he meets with me. I only ever saw him once."


    "William, perhaps you should pray?" said Rusara. "You might make contact with him."


    "It seems the obvious solution," mused Felix.


    William looked at them. "...As you wish."


    He walked to a corner, clasped his hands, and attempted to commune with Elranor. Surprisingly, it worked. He stood in a shining hall with Elranor in front of him. Such was the brilliance of him that William had to avert his eyes. Even so, there was a certain irritated casualness to the aura of Elranor today.


    "Well?" said Elranor.


    "Lord Elranor, I was wondering-" began William.


    "It is my will that you take up the service of the Dreaming Goddess," said Elranor. "So long as we understand that if our purposes cross, you will serve my interests."


    "Thank you, sir," said William.


    Then, the vision ended. William turned and walked over to Kiyora. "He says yes."


    "Oh great," said Kiyora before looking at Rusara. "Now, how do I invest my power in him?"


    "Dear, do I look like a goddess to you?" asked Rusara with an amused smile. "I haven''t the faintest idea; I merely know it is possible. I suppose you should will that some part of your power flow through him."


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora. "Um... I, the Dreaming Goddess, at this moment, imbue a part of my power on you so that you may save these people. Or something like that."


    The effect was instant. William suddenly looked around, and nothing seemed real at all. The world seemed a petty illusion, and Kiyora was the only thing real in it. He shook his head and looked at his hands, wondering if they were real.


    "Formality doesn''t suit you," said Felix.


    "Did it work?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes, it worked," said William. "I can sense it, somehow. I''ll see if I can heal them now."


    "It better work after all this trouble," muttered Felix.


    William approached the girl he had tried to heal before. She had dark hair cut in a bowl cut and had a tan complexion. She looked like a mix between Harlenorian and Calishan. He''d tried to heal her once before Rusara had stopped him.


    "Take this seriously, William," said Rusara. "The will of a god is possessing these people. You will have to fight to heal them."


    William touched her forehead and reached into her with his will. He found himself walking amidst an endless golden haze. He wandered amidst it until he heard crying. Following the sound, he saw the girl kneeling and sobbing.


    "What''s wrong?" asked William.


    "I''m lost and can''t get home," said the girl. "I''ve run for hours, but whenever I''m close, he finds me."


    "Who?" asked William.


    "He... he..." The girl''s eyes were suddenly glazed. "He is laughing."


    Laughing Wraith was here. A chill went down his back. "Oh damn," said William, taking her by the hand. "Come on; I''ll get you out of here. Just follow me."


    Even as he spoke, the haze became darker, and a shadow appeared in his vision. William hauled on the girl and fled. The shadow grew closer and closer, looming ever larger. Its very presence was beyond horrible to think about.


    "He''s catching up to us!" cried the girl. "We''ll never escape!"


    "No," said William, pulling his mind back and her with him. "We''ve defeated him before. I will defeat him this time."


    The haze became pitch black. Cruel laughter could be heard around them. The girl was sobbing, and every waking moment was agony. Then, when William could no longer endure it, they ran through a light. Suddenly, he was stepping back from the girl a moment later.


    "Did it work?" asked Felix.


    "I... what happened?" asked the girl. "Is the nightmare over?"


    "Yes," said William.


    "Where am I?" asked the girl.


    "In my house, some days after you fell sick," said Rusara. "Tell me, how did you fall prey to malas sickness?"


    "I... I''ve been buying the stuff for weeks," said the girl. "Or I had been. I used my wages to do it, and once I started, I couldn''t stop. But... but the visions it gave me began to change. They became horrible, and I saw him.


    "Sometimes, I began to see him even in the real world, and I wanted to stop. But I couldn''t. I had to take it. I didn''t have a choice anymore."


    "Who?" asked Rusara.


    The girl looked up. "Laughing Wraith." Then she fell back and was asleep again. Yet this was a natural sleep, and her eyes were closed, her breathing steady.


    "Him?" asked Kiyora. "But I killed him."


    "He has been destroyed many times," said Rusara. "And he always returns."


    "Not again," said Felix. "I thought we were done with that nightmare months ago. I don''t want to have anything to do with him."


    "Unfortunately, we do not have a choice," said Rusara. "If Laughing Wraith possesses these people, it is for a purpose. And whatever that purpose is, I think we want to thwart it."


    "What are you talking about?" asked Felix. "Laughing Wraith is evil incarnate. I spent days dodging that monster. His actions have no rhyme or reason save mindless sadism and fear."


    "What''s your point?" asked William.


    "Did that monster strike you as the sort to make plans?" asked Felix.


    "Not as you saw him," admitted Rusara. "However, Laughing Wraith... changes. Each time he appears, he is a bit different. I suspect what we know as Laughing Wraith is merely a succession of avatars. With the same evil being as the source."


    "What about Melchious?" asked Kiyora.


    "Hmm?" asked Rusara.


    "Melchious summoned Laughing Wraith into this world. He was trying to create a dark dreamer to serve him," said Kiyora. "Remember the book William found?"


    "I remember it. I have studied it," said Rusara. "However, I do not believe that the man who wrote it really had any idea what he summoned. He might have tried to summon a dreamer and gotten something entirely different."


    "None of this matters. I need to see to the others," said William.


    "Be careful," said Kiyora. "You don''t look very good."


    William didn''t feel very good, either. His head was swimming, and his hands were shaking. He steadied himself. He then channeled the power of Elranor through him to strengthen himself. Then he moved to the next one.


    "Keep your eyes open," said Rusara. "Each of these people has the will of Laughing Wraith within them. If you focus, you may be able to get some sense of his plan."


    William began the process of healing them. This was nothing like treating flesh. Every attempt he made brought him close to the mind of Laughing Wraith. It pained him more and more each time to rescue them. He could focus on nothing else. The people who awoke from their dark sleep could tell him nothing. Nothing save that it was Laughing Wraith who had done it. He worked for hours, and occasionally, he had to stop to drink some tea made by Rusara. His hands often shook, and he could sometimes see the monster''s face, almost at any rate. It looked a lot like his own.


    Then, while working on another girl, he had a vision.


    He saw the inside of a massive temple-like structure. A statue of Typhos loomed high above them, and a man was looking at him. He was a tall, thin Calishan with a red beard. His eyes were deprived of sleep, and he looked in a bad temper.


    "The door remains closed," said the man. "Your efforts seem to have failed."


    At first, William thought he was talking to him. Then he saw his own shadow¡ªthe shadow of Laughing Wraith. Just looking at it horrified him, and he wanted more than anything to flee back. He was looking through Laughing Wraith''s eyes, sensing his thoughts.


    He had to get out of here! He had to get away from this before the monster sensed him!


    No. No, he had to stay. He had to learn of their plan. He listened to Laughing Wraith''s response. It wasn''t verbal. He couldn''t comprehend what he was listening to. What he heard was only his mind attempting to make sense of what he heard.


    The seal had weakened.


    They only needed more power to fuel the spell. Spreading the possessed malas was working. They only needed to continue as they had been. Or that was as much as William could tell from the will of the dark dreamer.


    "Whatever the cause, our priority is to break these gates," said the man. Korasus was his name. He halted, striving to speak. "Once we do that, nothing else matters."


    Fool, they were already discovered.


    "What do you mean?" asked Korasus.


    The wretched paladin had learned of their efforts. The miserable little flesh and blood were healing the sick as they spoke. They were taking away Wraith''s playthings.


    "I thought you said your power was immune to healing magic," said Korasus.


    The Dreaming Goddess was his antithesis. She could combat Wraith''s energies. Wraith longed to find her, how he longed to wrap the hands of those dearest to her around her neck. He thirsted to squeeze until there was no life left in her.


    "Wonderful," said Korasus. "Which means we are exposed for naught."


    That was right; William should kill her when he got out of this. It made perfect sense. She deserved it. No, she didn''t deserve it; what was he thinking? Wraith would break the gates himself. He desired that Korasus would allow him to do his part of the arrangement. He was laughing. He was laughing. He was laughing.


    "I have done everything the plan calls for," said Korasus. "I supplied the workforce, the guards, and the money. However, it is you who has not shown results, monster."


    Wraith would not dignify that with a response. What was important was that William killed Kiyora when he next saw her. And failing that, he should murder one of the others. Perhaps Felix. How amusing it would be to see the look on his face as one closer to him than any other drove a blade through his heart.


    It wasn''t as though this world was real. Nothing he did mattered. So he could do as he pleased. Wraith turned away from Korasus.


    "Where are you going?" asked Korasus.


    To feed.


    "Don''t target Asimir''s villages," said Korasus. "He may expose us."


    Wraith cared not.


    "I mean it!" snarled Korasus.


    It was Wraith''s dream. He''d do as he pleased.


    William awoke with the conviction he''d lacked. He had to kill Kiyora and Felix. It would be amusing to watch them die, and why was he tied up? Ropes were bound around him, and his sword was far from him.


    Why would they tie him up? It wasn''t as though he was a threat. Except he was. He was going to kill them. What was he thinking?! He shook himself and regained his senses.


    "Well?" asked Rusara.


    "Someone named Korasus has been excavating the site of an old temple to Typhos," said William. "He seems to have a connection to Laughing Wraith, and they are working with an Asimir."


    "Asimir?" asked Kiyora.


    He''d been ready to kill Kiyora and Felix. He''d gone insane there for a moment and hadn''t even noticed. "Could someone cut these ropes?"


    "I apologize for that, dear," said Rusara. "When you didn''t wake up immediately, I thought Wraith might affect you. Gods have a way of doing that, so I had you tied up. Felix cut the ropes."


    Felix untied the ropes. He didn''t like wasting things. As William got his hands free, he stretched them. "If you knew it was that dangerous, why did you send me?"


    "Elranor gave you permission," said Rusara. "I expect he knows better than I what you are ready for."


    "Who''s this Asimir guy?" asked Kiyora.


    "Lord Asimir dwells in the far northern part of the province," said Rusara. "Near the satyr highlands of Khasmir. I believe that was where the last vestiges of the old cult of Typhos died out. Though I have heard that the cyclopi of Estal has taken up her worship."


    "We have to inform Father about this. Then, he''ll know what to do," said William. "I only wish Raynald were here."


    "I will alert the garrison at once," said Rusara.


    William looked at Kiyora. She looked as if someone had stepped on top of her grave. Her face was pale, and she was shaking. "Are you alright?"


    "I..." Kiyora paused. "I have to go."


    And she was gone without a flash. She just faded.

 Chapter Five: The Attack

    Kiyora sat up in her bed with a feeling that something was wrong. She looked around her bedroom. Many colorful action figures were standing on her table. The bookcases were spilling, as always. Everything was fine.


    Except everything was wrong.


    The window was open. Had it been open before? The curtains were drifting in the wind. Kiyora arose and made her way over to the edge to look out of it. With every step, she became more and more afraid. She reached the window and set her hands on it to shut it.


    Then she saw Laughing Wraith. He was in front of her, smiling.


    She heard herself scream as she shut the window and ran back to the bed in a blind panic, knocking over a table as she did so. Falling into the covers, she pulled them over her head to put something else between him and her.


    The door opened, and Mom rushed to her side. Kiyora heard herself sobbing. "Kiyora, what''s wrong! Why are you screaming!"


    "Look, look out there, Mom!" said Kiyora. "He... he is laughing... he is laughing... he is... no! No!"


    "Kiyora, calm down!" said Mom. "There is nothing out there. Look."


    She was right. There was nothing outside the window.


    "I... he was there. I saw him," said Kiyora.


    "I''ll get us some sodas," said Mom. "Come downstairs with me if you find it too scary up here."


    Kiyora allowed Mom to lead her down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mom quickly took out two sodas and offered one to Kiyora. She fumbled with opening it but got it on her third try, then drank it.


    "Now," said Mom, "the first thing you must understand is that you were dreaming, Kiyora. Whatever happened in there can''t hurt you."


    "I wasn''t," said Kiyora. "He wasn''t in my dreams; he was real."


    "Kiyora, you must understand our family has always had a powerful connection to dreams. It''s strong even for our race," said Mom. Sometimes, what we see in them bleeds over into reality. We see things that aren''t there. But what you see in the realm of sleep can only cross over if you let it.


    "There have been huge numbers of studies done on this subject."


    Kiyora sighed. "I was having a good dream until he showed up."


    "Who is he?" asked Mom.


    "Laughing Wraith," said Kiyora. "He''s a monster that me and William-"


    "William and I," said Mom absently.


    Kiyora felt a twinge of irritation. "-that William and I were chased by. I... I can''t describe what he looks like. But he''s horrible. Just being in his presence is like living in a nightmare. I thought I''d killed him."


    "Then kill him again," said Mom. "Kiyora, our race touches the spirit realm in our sleep. But what lies there cannot affect us unless we let it. Belief in something is what allows it to bleed into our real lives. I''m sure you can fix this."


    Kiyora looked at her and then drank her soda. "Thanks, Mom. I uh... wow, look at the time. I have to get ready for school."


    "It''s only four o''clock," said Mom.


    "Oh," said Kiyora.


    Kiyora did not end up going back to bed. Her head was still running with thoughts. She''d seen how William had worked. He''d become increasingly exhausted and distant with every person he''d healed. He''d only fixed about half of them, and then he''d gotten this sick smile. That was when Rusara had had him tied up.


    It bothered her that he could be affected that way. William was one of the coolest people she knew, even if he wasn''t real.


    She didn''t see Reya on her way to school. But when she reached the front gates, she found Laurus smoking a cigarette by them. He crushed it against the wall as she approached and threw it out.


    "Hey, Kiyora. Sleep well?" said Laurus.


    "You know that those things can shorten your lifespan by hundreds of years, right?" asked Kiyora. "Humans only get a hundred or so years, but elves smoking them cuts our lives down to a fraction of what we might have."


    "What are you, a PSA speaker?" asked Laurus. "Could you answer the damn question?"


    "Not at all," admitted Kiyora. "What about you?"


    "Fine," said Laurus. "Though my Mom had a boyfriend over." He paused and exited the wall before they began walking into the school. "So I''ve been thinking about my villain, and I think you may have been right about him. He doesn''t have a proper motive. I want to work with you to revamp the concept."


    "What do you have in mind?" asked Kiyora.


    "Um..." Laurus paused. "I''ll tell you and the others at lunch today."


    "Alright, sounds good," said Kiyora.


    They found Gisora at her desk, looking very distant. "Hey, Gisora."


    "Oh, hey," said Gisora.


    "What''s wrong?" asked Kiyora.


    "I uh... the royal family is looking for another wife, Prince Tenius," said Gisora.


    "Prince Tenius?" asked Kiyora. "But he''s already got four wives as it is."


    "He has special genes. They want to use him to breed a new, much more powerful branch of the family or something," said Gisora. "I''m a bit nervous or all. What if I get picked?"


    "Relax. You''re extended family numbers in the thousands," said Kiyora. "The chances you''ll be picked are beyond unlikely. Plus, there isn''t anything special about you. So you don''t have to worry about becoming breeding stock."


    "Ha ha," said Gisora. "I''m concerned BECAUSE I''m special, Kiyora."


    "Not to get us off the subject of spineless weaklings," said Laurus, who had been listening until now. "But did you guys hear about the presentation?"


    "What presentation?" asked Kiyora.


    "We''ve got a speaker coming in to educate the dangers of interracial breeding," said Laurus. "I hope you drank plenty of caffeine this morning."


    "Oh, Alchara, not this again," said Kiyora. "Why are they beating us over the head with it?"


    "Mom says that the Ministry of Bloodlines is afraid of diluting the race," said Gisora.


    "Are you kidding me?" asked Kiyora. "Emperor Ictargo holds lotteries. Lotteries determine which one of his granddaughters will be a wife to a foreign power. And he''s sending someone here to preach about the dangers of blood impurity?"


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    "Well, that''s different," said Gisora.


    "How?" asked Kiyora.


    "When a Dreamer Princess marries a King, she improves his bloodline," said Gisora. "She ensures his descendants will be of better stock. She''s also tying that Kingdom to the Dreamer Empire. It''s a sacrifice for the betterment of the world as a whole. As long as their children are kept out of society, it''s fine.


    "But if we started letting commoners marry other races, it would degrade the race."


    "Yeah, we might not be an evolutionary nightmare anymore," muttered Kiyora.


    "You read too much human philosophy," said Gisora. "Alchara chose to make it, so there were five females for every male, and she''s our goddess, so it can''t be wrong."


    "It isn''t philosophy. It is science," said Kiyora.


    "Those are the same thing," said Gisora.


    "No, they aren''t!" said Kiyora.


    "Still, no Reya." mused Laurus. "Did you see her on her way here, Kiyora?"


    "No," admitted Kiyora. "Think she''ll be late?"


    The teacher, Ms. Everard, then appeared. "Good morning, everyone."


    "Good morning." Everyone echoed in an insincere fashion.


    At that moment, Reya rushed in through the door, bag trailing behind her. "I''m sorry I''m late; I overslept!"


    "Impeccable timing, Reya," said Ms. Everard, "I was about to mark you tardy."


    There was a bit of laughing at Reya as she sat down. Of course, Kiyora did not join in, nor did Laurus or Gisora. Even so, Reya looked awful as she sat down.


    The school continued as usual until they were thirty minutes away from lunch. At that point, Kiyora looked up to see something strange. Vines were growing up on the side of the school''s walls. They were very thin and had only just begun to sprout leaves.


    What was Actovosh thinking? Why would he grow plants up here like this?


    The vines were crawling up the window now. Murmurs of surprise came from the class as they suddenly bulged outward. The windows cracked and then shattered!


    The vines fell and began to crawl across the floor. Cries of surprise came from the other kids as the vines snaked around the desks. Soon, everyone had crowded up against the side of the wall.


    "Actovosh, what are you doing?" asked Kiyora.


    But there was yet to be a response. Kiyora tried to sense Actovosh but sensed only darkness. Then she felt Him. The others perceived it as well, and soon they all fled. Where were Laurus and Gisora?


    "Attention! May I have your attention, please!" said a voice. "An emergency has been detected in the building! Please proceed calmly to the exits!"


    "Come on, Kiyora, we''ve got to go," said Reya, the only one who had stayed.


    "Right," said Kiyora.


    They turned and fled out the door, shutting it behind them even as the vines began to crawl up it. Beyond, they found that vines and roots had grown through the ceiling. The lights on the hall above flickered and then went out.


    Everything was dark for a moment. Then, there was a sphere of green light as Reya illuminated their surroundings. Kiyora did the same, creating a blue light.


    "What is going on?" asked Reya as they walked through the school.


    "Something must have happened to disturb Actovosh," said Kiyora, already knowing the answer. "I''ve never seen spirits act this way before, though. Where are Gisora and Laurus?"


    "I think Gisora went to the bathroom," said Reya. "I don''t know about Laurus, though."


    The vines were filling the floor now. They were soon having to be careful not to trip over them. Sometimes, they heard the voices of other students as they walked, but they never saw anything. Then they saw Gisora. She was lying on the floor, and her eyes were bright white.


    "Gisora!" cried Kiyora, running forward to kneel by her.


    "He is laughing!" said Gisora with an unnatural smile. "He is laughing! He is laughing!"


    "Gisora, you have to calm down," said Kiyora, gripping her. "Look at me. Look at me." She put forth her will as she had as the Dreaming Goddess a thousand times before. And it worked. Gisora''s eyes returned to normal, and she sat up with a start.


    "Kiyora?" she said. "Is the nightmare over?"


    "Yes, but we''ve got to get out of here now," said Kiyora.


    Then she sensed it. That same presence had been outside her window. Looking up, she saw a shadow, darker than pitch black, creeping through the light toward them. "He''s coming! Come on!"


    Hauling Gisora to her feet, they fled through the halls. Coming to the stairs, they began to scale down them, flight after flight. Gisora looked at her. "Where is Laurus?"


    "Laurus can take care of himself," said Kiyora. "He''s probably already gotten out." S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But the stairs just kept on going. They went down flight after flight, but no matter how many they ran down, they never reached the bottom.


    "What is going on?" gasped Reya. "We should have found the exit by now!"


    "Just keep running," said Kiyora.


    As they ran, she began to count the numbers on the doors. Four, three, two, four. And all the while, the shadow got closer. She stopped at two. "In through here, quickly!"


    "What?" said Gisora. "But that''s not the bottom floor!"


    "We''re stuck in a loop!" said Kiyora. "Quickly!"


    She opened the door, and they ran through. Then, they stopped and found themselves on precisely the same staircase. And the shadow was all around them now. Reya and Gisora huddled around them as vines grew down the stairs, tearing them apart.


    Actovosh was the supreme natural spirit of the capital. Nothing happened without his will. Laughing Wraith couldn''t just override that, could he? It was impossible!


    And there he was. Just beyond sight, rising out of the darkness.


    "What is that thing?!" screamed Gisora.


    "Laughing Wraith," said Kiyora, stepping forward.


    She wouldn''t let him hurt her friends. She had beaten Laughing Wraith once before. She''d do it again in the real world if she had to. Her vision was suddenly clouded, and then-


    "Ictargo," said Reya, "Ictargo, help us, please!"


    There was a flash of orange light that shot down from above. The darkness was broken. So were the stairs on either side of them. They cracked beneath the force of the onslaught. There was a scream of unbearable agony and rage, and then all was silent. Emperor Ictargo was always watching.


    They were standing with both the ways up and down broken. One floor up.


    "Maybe we should check the elevator?" asked Reya.


    "I want out now," snapped Gisora before kneeling by one of the vines. "Excuse me, I''m a Princess of the Dreamer Empire, and I need your help. Grow down your roots so we don''t get eaten alive. Now would be good; we don''t have all day."


    Kiyora didn''t sense any evil from the roots again. Soon, they grew down into the form of a ladder of sorts. Kiyora urged Reya first.


    "Reya, you first," Kiyora said. "Climb down."


    "But I can''t!" said Reya. "I''m terrible at physical-"


    "If you don''t climb, we''ll be eaten alive!" said Kiyora. "Now, come on!"


    Reya began to scale down, followed by Gisora and then Kiyora. Reya struggled to stay on the vines and could hardly move from fear. Eventually, she halted utterly. "Kiyora, I... I''m scared."


    "Yeah, join the damn club and move!" snapped Kiyora.


    Reya started moving with her eyes closed, groping too quickly for the roots. Suddenly, she slipped and fell backward. Gisora reached out and grabbed her hand, holding her in place.


    "Don''t worry; I''ve got you!" Gisora said.


    Reya and Gisora''s eyes met, and Reya calmed down. Getting back on the vines, she managed to scale the rest of the way down.


    Once they were all down, they sprinted through the rest of the school. Wherever they walked, they saw broken-down doors and walls and ruined classrooms. Chairs were being warped and crushed into metal balls by the vines and roots. Yet they were no longer moving.


    Without Laughing Wraith, the plants were safe.


    The three of them rushed out the front door, or rather the shattered remnants of it. They found crowds of people waiting. Laurus saw them and ran toward them. "Where have you guys been? I was worried to death!"


    "You''ve had it easy, Laurus," said Kiyora.


    "I don''t know," said Gisora. "But I think we''d better cancel the club meeting for today."


    Then Kiyora saw the police trying to enforce the order. "Screw that!" she snapped. "I''m going to tell the police there is an eldritch abomination trying to eat us! Officer! Officer, I need to talk to you!"


    "What is it?" asked the officer.


    "While we were evacuating the school, we got separated from the main body," said Kiyora. "We tried to leave, but a monster chased and tried to kill us."


    "Are you joking?" asked the police officer.


    "No, I''m not joking; it''s a being from the darkest nightmares of the elven mind!" said Kiyora.


    "Kid, I don''t have time for this." said the officer.


    "Excuse me, Officer, I''m Princess Gisora," said Gisora, approaching. "I must apologize for my friend''s conduct; she has been under a lot of stress. While in that school, I was assaulted by something I did not understand. We need your help meeting with the Department of Spiritual Defense."


    "Of course. I''ll call it in right away," said the guard.


    "That''s not fair," said Kiyora. "Why should he believe you and not me?"


    "Well, I am a Princess," said Gisora. "It wouldn''t be much of a position if it didn''t have its perks."


    Typical really.

 Chapter Six: Atrocities

    The gates of Arsheen were open.


    Out of them marched column after column of House Gabriel soldiers. They were roughly a fourth of what could be called up. They bore tall shields and long spears. Their helms hid their faces, and their red plumes swayed in the wind. A crimson banner flowed at the head, with the symbol of a golden cobra coiled to strike upon it. Behind them came many sellswords and mercenaries. These were clad in various armor with weapons of all kinds. And behind them was a contingent of local levies. These were wrapped in lighter armor with large shields and speared.


    The Harlenorians numbered perhaps five thousand in total, including mercenaries. While the levies were only two thousand or so. Father was not sure they could be relied upon in more significant numbers.


    Raynald had argued against it, of course. But Rusara had pointed out that men called up for war could not plot rebellion. Father had liked the idea of getting troops from local forces. From there, they would turn them into loyal soldiers. So it had been decided.


    William marched alongside them, wearing only a suit of chainmail. It was heavy, even with the belt around it, and he didn''t like having it on his shoulders. Still, his armor still needed to be finished, and he had to wear something.


    Then Kiyora appeared. She didn''t say anything at first, looking very distant. William approached her instead of the other way around. "Kiyora, is something wrong?"


    "A lot of things," said Kiyora. "I don''t want to talk about it. What is going on?"


    "Father is leading an army," said William. "He intends to march out and demand Lord Asimir account for his actions. There are other reports. Something has been torturing the villagers in that region.


    "This never would have happened if they''d adopted Anoa the Bright''s militia system. But their Lords want them weak. It''s why we''re bringing in colonists."


    "So you''re going to war?" said Kiyora.


    William nodded, disappointed he wouldn''t be able to talk about history. "With any luck, it won''t come to that. We''re hoping Asimir will surrender. Mother will be running things in Father''s absence."


    "Well, why are you going?" asked Kiyora. "Aren''t you a bit young to be fighting in battles?"


    "It''s a bit late for that," said William, feeling a bit bitter as he said it. "Besides, I''m not being sent there to fight. I''m going to heal some injured and sick people. Father wants me to observe him in battle. It''s a shame. I was hoping to win some battle glory.


    "Raynald and Rusara have already gone on ahead."


    Kiyora remained silent for a long moment, watching the army march. The spearmen had given way to rows of men with smaller shields and long swords. And behind them were many Dust Elven archers dressed in hides with longbows.


    "...Hey William," said Kiyora. "I know this is a bit late, but how exactly are you paying for my temple?"


    "My Father is providing the funds and has done most of the work," admitted William.


    "Right. Listen, I haven''t been taking this world as seriously as I should have," said Kiyora. "I mean, maybe none of this is real, but maybe it is. So, I''m sorry I called you a cheapskate."


    "Don''t concern yourself with it," said William. "You''ve saved my life more than once."


    "Right, I guess I did," said Kiyora. "So, where is your Dad anyway?"


    William had known Kiyora long enough to know that ''Dad'' meant ''Father.'' Weird language. He pointed to the small domed building, which stood at a crossroads. The army was marching by it. "See that over there?" He asked.


    "Yeah," said Kiyora.


    "That''s a shrine to Barden," said William.


    "Right, and he is?" asked Kiyora.


    William had forgotten how much Kiyora was willfully ignorant of. "The god of travel. The third part of the God Triumvirate. People pray to him for success in business, good family life, and safe travels. You know, prosperity?


    "Anyway, it is a rule that when a war leader marches to war, he must first go ahead of his army and pray there. And he must do so until the army has completely left the gates. Otherwise, it is bad luck."


    "So, who are the other two parts of the god triumvirate?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, Elranor is the head," said William. "He''s the Lord of Knights, the nobility of spirit and martial valor. Though I guess I don''t need to tell you that. Then there is Laevian, and she is the darkest of three."


    "So she''s evil?" said Kiyora.


    "Not evil," said William. "She just... doesn''t value the same things as Barden and Elranor. She cares about wild and dangerous things and loves the world''s dark places. People don''t pray for her favor; they pray to appease her. She has mastery over diseases. If someone angers the God Triumvirate, she carries out retribution."


    "Sounds evil to me," said Kiyora.


    "She''s not evil!" said William. "She just has different priorities, which make her seem evil. If she were evil, her Seers wouldn''t give us prophecies."


    "Seers?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Seers of Laevian. They''re an order that dwells mostly in Escor and southern Antion. They commune with Rioletta, Goddes of Fate," said William. "Though they also have branches in other countries far from here. I''m not surprised you''ve never heard of them since you won''t find any in the East. Although I suppose Rusara might be one, depending on how you view it. Not that you''d know since you don''t exactly pay attention."


    "That''s not true. I''m fully aware of my surroundings-" said Kiyora as Father walked up behind her unnoticed.


    "Ah, Queen Kiyora," said Father.


    "Eek!" said Kiyora, nearly jumping out of her skin.


    "Walk with me," said Father.


    "Yes, sir," said Kiyora.


    William walked with them, as well. Since Father did not say anything, he judged it as permitted. Father remained silent for a time as if considering his answer. "I gather you have faced our enemy many times."


    "Yes. Once or twice," said Kiyora. "I mean, I''ve worked against him for a while." S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "My son tells me his minions are located near an abandoned temple of Typhos," said Father. "I do not know what they intend, but I can guess. They mean to access the power of Typhos and use it against us. As for their motives, I expect it is some combination of patriotism and ambition.


    "However, I do not know what motivates Laughing Wraith. I hope you shed some light on his intentions.


    "I... don''t know. I mean, Laughing Wraith is evil incarnate," said Kiyora.


    "An impressive title," said Father, not sounding impressed. "However, that doesn''t tell me what he wants or explain his actions."


    "He just likes hurting people, okay," said Kiyora. "He doesn''t even care about killing them. If he''d gone after William and I-"


    "William and me in this context," said Father. "Whether you use either ''me'' or ''I'' depends on the context of the phrase. In this situation, it would not be appropriate for you to say, ''If he''d gone after I.'' Rather, you would say, ''If he''d gone after me.'' Thus, ''William and me.''"


    "Whatever, if he''d gone after us seriously, he could have killed us," said Kiyora. "But he didn''t. He took his time and stalked us through the whole forest. I think he likes making people afraid of him."


    "So he is a bully." mused Father.


    "He is way worse than that," said Kiyora.


    "A bully can be anything from a petulant child to a petulant god," said Father. "It is a state of being irrelevant to one''s power level. The real question is how we can make use of this information. The book William found said that Laughing Wraith is a dreamer summoned by that fool Emiran. With help from Melchious, of course.


    "Why do you think he is different from you?"


    "What do you mean?" asked Kiyora.


    "You must recognize that Laughing Wraith seems almost a force of nature?" said Father. "You, on the other hand, are far easier to approach. One would think Laughing Wraith would have more personality."


    "Look, if you don''t mind, could you get to the point?" asked Kiyora.


    "Emiran''s notes say that he was trying to suppress the dreamer," said Father. "He wanted to create a sort of automaton god to do his bidding. He could not control the creature. Yet he may have succeeded in suppressing Laughing Wraith''s personality."


    "So he''s brainwashed?" said Kiyora.


    "It is worthy of consideration," mused Father. "I suspect Melchious may have twisted him into what he is."


    "Laughing Wraith is a monster!" burst out William. "He should be destroyed!"


    "Yes, but every time we kill him, he simply comes back. Let''s look into alternative solutions," said Father. "If we can reawaken the dreamer Laughing Wraith once was, we may be able to do away with him for good."


    "How could we do that?" asked Kiyora.


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    "I have no idea," admitted Father. "I was hoping you would have some insight." The conversation began their journey. At first, the army marched past many fertile fields. They saw farmers doing their work and occasionally saw carts riding along the side of the road. Father walked alongside them, keeping a keen eye on the troops.


    They pitched camp in a field beneath the stars. Well, not really. Father had ensured his soldiers were well supplied with tents. Even so, it took some time to pitch them. By this time, Kiyora had already gone off alone. She was undoubtedly doing good deeds elsewhere. For his part, William was only too happy to stop, though this was far from the worst experience he''d had.


    They eat well. Not as well as in the palace, of course. Duke Vanion made a point of eating the same thing his men, albeit in larger portions. But it wasn''t all that bad. It had only taken one trip to Seathorius to change his outlook. Now, things that would have been horrible to him were business as usual.


    "Felix," said William over dinner, "do you remember when we had to wander through Seathorius. When satyrs pursued us without any shoes?"


    "Yes," said Felix. "Why are you bringing it up?"


    "That was far worse than this," mused William.


    The next morning, Kiyora reappeared, and they continued their journey. The men seemed in good spirits, and William supposed he could not blame them. After all, they had a god marching with them. Granted, a far less powerful god than Elranor, there was something to be said for appearances.


    And then the fields quite suddenly faded away. In their place were plains of scrub grass. The trees disappeared, and the sun became hotter. As William had seen in the minds of those afflicted by malas, a slight haze appeared around them. There was a scent, slightly sweet, like cinnamon, in the air. Kiyora noticed it, too.


    "Hey, is it just me, or are things getting very barren suddenly?" asked Kiyora.


    "That is to be expected," said Father. "Artarq has yet to be fully brought into the influence of Elranor. Thus, the green fields disappear in further regions, and the malas fields begin. Look there; you can see it in the air.


    "And smell it as well."


    Soon enough, they began to see crews of men a way off the path. They were digging into the earth and sifting through it with tools. The haze was terrible around them. William guessed what they were at once, but Kiyora needed to learn. The scent of something like cinnamon was in the air.


    "Will," she said, "who are those men over there?"


    "Malas miners," said William. "They sift the sands for malas and then bring it back to Artarq. Harvesting a handful of the stuff takes a dozen men hours of work. Don''t worry; things should improve once we near Khasmir. And my name is William."


    Kiyora looked like she doubted him, but true to his word, the haze soon faded away, and they returned to the fields. But these were different. The plants here were strange. They were shifting things that seemed to cling to the ground instead of being rooted in them. The rocks were sharper. Everything was brighter and more rugged. The wheat fields they saw were white instead of gold and had thorns.


    "Why is everything so weird?" asked Kiyora.


    "Because Baltoth''s worship hasn''t faded from this place," said William. "When a god gains dominion over a place, it changes to suit that god''s nature. Elranor is a benevolent and good god, so sites under his sway naturally tend to be pleasant.


    "Baltoth believes in power through suffering, however. Thus, his domain is less hospitable."


    "What about your home?" asked Kiyora. "You always talk about how cold it is?"


    "Oh, Carn Gable is part of Haldren," said William. "Anoa the Bright took it from the clans of satyrs raiding his shores and colonized it. He defeated Neral Dinis, the vampire Lord, and his Furbearer servants.


    "But there are still a lot of satyrs who worship Kreshlak, their ancestral god. His influence ensures that it is a very cold place indeed. Why do you think they are so hairy?"


    "Why would anyone worship Kreshlak if he makes winter cold?" asked Kiyora.


    "The worshippers of gods have an easier time surviving in their god''s domains," said William. "And uninvited guests need help. Kreshlak''s freezing temperatures are a defense mechanism of sorts.


    "Only an idiot would ever try and invade one of his Kingdoms. It made fighting the Viokins a nightmare. Back when they were still raiding anyway."


    "Viokins?" asked Kiyora, "You mean those minotaurs?"


    "No, a Viokin is merely an inhabitant of Viokinar, which is very far north," said William. "Minotaurs live in Viokinar, and so are called Viokins."


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora. "So why did they stop raiding?"


    "The Viokins were able to make a good living by raiding the coastlines," said William. "Both Harlenor and Calisha hated them and each other. It was a three-way conflict, but their icy waters were hard to navigate. So Calisha and Harlenor weren''t able to raid them. Eventually, King Andoa seized Estal from them. Then, he allied with Calisha and beat them in several crucial sea battles.


    "After that, they stopped."


    "You allied with the Calishans?" asked Kiyora.


    "Elranor and Baltoth hate each other," said William. "Yet they understand the need to unite against common enemies. Elranor teaches us that pragmatism must come before idealism in some circumstances."


    Then they came in sight of a village. One of the walls had been knocked in. There were only a few people in view save soldiers. The banner of House De Chevlon was flying on the walls. The gates opened. Raynald emerged from the gates as they drew nearer and walked toward them in full armor. It was the exact opposite kind of armor one would expect, bright white and shining in the sun.


    "So, is that banner of a bear?" asked Kiyora, looking at the banner.


    "No," said William. "It is a Calishan honey badger."


    "Why would someone make a honey badger their House symbol?" asked Kiyora. "Badgers are cute fluffy things. It isn''t exactly intimidating."


    "Have you ever seen a Calishan honey badger?" asked William.


    "No, but neither have you," said Kiyora.


    "I got mauled by one once," said Felix. "It was neither cute nor fluffy."


    "Oh," said Kiyora.


    Raynald reached them and approached Father. He bowed his head quickly in recognition of Father''s rank, then leaned in close. "Vanion, I''m glad you are here."


    "What is it, Raynald?" asked Vanion.


    "I''ll tell you everything I know in a minute," said Raynald. "Is William with you?"


    "Yes," said Vanion.


    "Good," said Raynald. "We''ll need his help. Ordinary healers aren''t good enough."


    "Here I am," said Wiliam.


    "Go quickly then," said Raynald. "You''re needed."


    William looked to Father for permission. "Go on ahead," said Father. "I need to speak with Raynald alone."


    William hurried toward the village. He wondered what had happened to get Raynald so worried. Raynald was never worried. Aside from the broken wall, nothing seemed to be wrong. However, the lack of people and the dead silence troubled him.


    "What''s this about ordinary healers?" asked Kiyora. "You said everyone got their powers from demons, spirits, or gods."


    "They do," said William. "Every company has a sorcerer, someone who wields spirits assigned to it. They heal the wounded and attend to magical threats. However, they usually aren''t as powerful as those who get power from gods."


    "Oh, okay," said Kiyora. "So, what happened?"


    William remembered the vision suddenly. And then he remembered the sunlit grove where they had first met Wraith. It was similar to this village. Then he sensed His presence and shivered.


    "Laughing Wraith got there before us." He realized aloud.


    He reached the gates and found Tanith Telus waiting for him. The tall girl had cut her blonde hair into a bowl cut since the last they''d seen. At her side were two long swords, and she wore shining white armor as Raynald had. She looked sick to her stomach.


    "William," she said, "you''re here."


    "Yes," said William. "I''m glad you''re alright. What has happened?"


    "A lot of people are injured," said Tanith. "Though that doesn''t really do it justice. Come on; I''ll take you to them."


    She led him into the village, through the empty streets, and to a building. A man was lying by the side of the door, clutching onto a stick. He had a long white beard and tan skin and was short and stocky, though not as much as a dwarf. His eyes had been torn out.


    "My eyes..." he gasped. "he tore out my eyes..."


    William felt sick and horrible. No one deserved this. "Stay still," he said, touching the man''s shoulder. "This will only take a moment."


    He channeled the will of Elranor into the man, who gasped as darkness was purged from his body. The eyes he had lost soon regrew, and he looked down at his hands in amazement. "I... I can see." Then he saw William and fell back. "You! Keep him away from me! Stay away!" He was cowering in terror.


    "I won''t hurt you," said William. "I swear it on my honor!"


    "You swear it?!" cried the man. "You were the one who did all this!"


    "I tell you," said William. "I have never been here before in my life. There is an army that will attest to the truth of my words."


    "An army?" asked the man before he halted. "The ears. Your ears are different. It was... terrible. Terrible, terrible. He came last morning without warning. He didn''t kill anyone, but he made us beg for death. A monster stalked his shadow.


    "He is laughing; he is laughing..."


    William put both hands on his shoulders and set his will to drive out the remnants of his unnatural fear. What remained was trauma. "Calm yourself. I need you to lead me to the others so I can heal them."


    "I... I will do so." said the man.


    "I''ll come as well," said Tanith. "You might need help."


    Help in case one of these terrified people attacked him. Tanith always had thought of things like that. But why would Laughing Wraith wear his face? Except the older man had said something about ears.


    The old man led him inside to a bed where a young girl was lying. Her arms and legs had been broken in multiple places, and she looked like she was hardly aware of the world. Perhaps that was a mercy. Then, as he approached, the girl gasped and began to scream and cry. The old man hugged her.


    "Keep him away..." she gasped.


    "Don''t worry, granddaughter," said the man. "The monster who attacked you only wore his face. He can help you."


    William lay his hands on her and channeled the power of Elranor. The bones were severely broken, but he could reverse it. Elranor had given it to him. He just needed to direct it. Yet it was hard. Every bit of energy he poured into it only affected the wounds slightly. The girl was crying out in pain.


    Then it was over.


    "Tanith," said William, "do you have a cloak I can wear? Something that will cover my face?"


    "Um, hang on." Tanith pulled off her cloak. "This has a hood."


    "Good," said William, fitting it around his shoulders and pulling up the hood. "Take me to the others."


    What he had seen happen to the old man and his granddaughter paled in comparison to the atrocities he saw that day. One person had been half-flayed alive. They should have been dead, but Wraith''s power had kept them alive so they could suffer further. And that wasn''t even the worst of it.


    He never wanted to remember what he saw that day. But he knew it would return to him in his darkest dreams. Thus, he passed the rest of the day and eventually found himself sitting on the wall with everyone healed. There seemed to be a haze of despair just below the surface. Raynald arrived. He bit his nails on his one good arm and paced restlessly for a while. Finally, he looked up.


    "Even Calishans don''t deserve this," he said at last.


    "They aren''t Calishans," said Felix, looking down at his hands. "These are subjects of Harlenor and are a different group from mine."


    "What do you mean?" asked Raynald.


    "Baltoth rules over many races. I am a Medi," said Felix. "These are Drens, an entirely different ethnic group. My people are thinner and taller-"


    "Never mind, I don''t care. They all look the same to me." snapped Raynald. "Tanith, fan out and look for any more victims in the surrounding farmsteads. Bring them here so William can heal them."


    "Right, right," said Tanith. "Someone has to do it, I guess."


    "I''ve got to go speak to Vanion about our next course of action," said Raynald. "Come when you are ready, William. I''ll give you some time." He turned and made his way out. There was a mournful silence.


    "How could anyone do this?" asked Kiyora, who had been silent until now.


    "I want to know how they wear my face," said William.


    "Ears," said Felix.


    "What?" asked William.


    "The old man said that the one who did all this looked like William. Except for his ears," said Felix. "When we first met, Kiyora, you mistook William for someone you had seen before."


    "How do you even remember that?" asked Kiyora. "It was months ago."


    "I have a good memory," said Felix. "Who was the one you mistook for William?"


    "I... it was a boy named Laurus," said Kiyora. "I talked with him and figured out they weren''t the same. Then he invited me to join the fantasy club. But he would never do anything like this."


    "Really? Let''s examine what we know," said Felix. "We know that Laughing Wraith is committing atrocities in a mortal form. We know that he looks just like William. We know that Laughing Wraith is a dreamer like you.


    "That seems to be a solid case against this, Laurus."


    "He would never do anything like this!" snapped Kiyora. "Laurus is not a monster!"


    "Maybe," said Felix. "But it can''t hurt to be sure when next you wake up. William, I''ve got an idea of how to deal with this. We should send out word to the surrounding villages. We''ll say that your lookalike is causing atrocities. That way, we can stop people from thinking you are doing this.


    "And if the scouts find that any of those villages have been hit, we can call you up, and you can heal them. With your permission, I''d like to suggest it to Duke Vanion."


    "Right," said William, "that sounds like a good plan. Go ahead. Tell him I approved the idea."Felix nodded and rushed off. Once he was gone, William looked at his hands. He''d healed a lot of people. But a lot more were probably suffering. And people thought he had done it. He felt like blood was on his hands, even if he knew it wasn''t his fault.


    "This can''t be Laurus," said Kiyora.


    "He might not even know what he is doing," said William. "And we can''t leave any stones unturned here."


    "I... but..." Kiyora paused before standing up. "Fine! I''ll check it out, but if this is wrong, I want an apology!"


    "And you''ll get one," William assured her.


    "I''d better," snapped Kiyora.


    Then, she was gone in a flash.

 Chapter Seven: The Shadow is Cast

    Kiyora woke up from a sleep she did not remember taking, feeling very tired still. She''d done a lot of things over days in the dream world. A lot of good deeds intermixed with checking up on William. Then they had found that village and everything had turned into a nightmare.


    "Kiyora," said Gisora, shoving her. "Kiyora, wake up. We''re here."


    "Where?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Department of Spiritual Defense," said Gisora. "Come on."


    They were in a cop car outside a building made out of red brick that intertwined with Actovosh''s roots. You had only a few windows with a good view of the surrounding area. Getting out of it, they were led into the station, to the front desk, and told to wait. After a few minutes, they were called into an office. It was sparsely decorated, with few ornaments or books or anything. However, there was a symbol of a tree with a shield in front of it on a blue background. That was the department''s symbol; below it was a desk strewn with paper. At the desk was a woman with green hair. She was looking over paperwork and clad in white robes.


    Kiyora and Gisora sat down, and she looked up. "Good day, Princess. I am Lieutenant Escalus of the Department of Spiritual Defense. I''m told you have information for me regarding the recent events at your school."


    "Yes, we were late in getting out," said Gisora. "We were attacked by this... thing." She shuddered at the memory. Kiyora didn''t blame her.


    "Can you describe it?" asked Escalus.


    "Not really," admitted Gisora. "It... it cast a long shadow, but it made me afraid. More afraid of anything in my life."


    "I saw it," said Kiyora. She didn''t realize how afraid Gisora had been.


    "You? And what did it appear like?" asked Escalus.


    "Looking at it hurt. It made me feel like my heart would burst in terror," said Kiyora. "I think he was slender, but his face... it was horrible." She looked to Gisora. "She was saying something when we found her. He is laughing. Everyone who sees him says that. I think it''s like his calling card or something."


    "I see," said Escalus, looking hard at her as she clenched a fist. "And you, what is your name?"


    "I''m Kiyora Yagos, ma''am," said Kiyora.


    "Describe everything you know about this creature. Start from the first time you met it to right now," said Escalus.


    "Alright, but the story is much longer than you think," said Kiyora.


    "Believe me, I have to hear it," said Escalus.


    Kiyora explained everything. It took a long time, and she expected Escalus to dismiss her. However, the further on Kiyora went, the more severe Escalus looked. On and on the story went until, at last, Kiyora had finished.


    "I see," said Escalus. "So, you''ve been seeing this monster in your dreams for months?"


    "Yes," said Kiyora. "And I saw him this morning."


    Escalus suddenly sat back in her chair and put both hands over her eyes in exhaustion. "...Not again."


    "You already knew about him?" asked Kiyora.


    "No!" snapped Escalus. "I believe you are blowing things out of proportion, and I suggest you return home. Our race sometimes exaggerates the trauma of nightmares in our minds. Sometimes, the innate connection all dream elves share causes this trauma to spread. In the worst of situations, it can cause panic on a massive scale.


    "Still, it is all in hand now. You did well to bring this information to us. We''ll see to this matter quickly. In the meantime, you should all go home."


    "What," said Kiyora, "but we just-"


    "Now!" snapped Escalus before pausing. "Oh, and I''ll need both of you to give some blood."


    "Why?" asked Gisora.


    "It''s merely to test your blood for toxins," said Esclus. "Nothing insidious, I assure you."


    "But-" began Kiyora.


    "I''m afraid I''ll have to insist," said Escalus. "This is important."


    "Yes, ma''am," said Kiyora.


    And that was how they were led into a separate room and told to wait. They said nothing as they waited. There wasn''t anything to say. The door opened, and a blonde-haired doctor entered. ''Hi, I''m just here to take a blood sample.''


    "Hang on, I thought this was the Department of Spiritual Defense," said Kiyora. "Why do you have blood testing machine things?"


    "We share the same building as the Department of Bloodlines," said the doctor. "Often, we find our areas of expertise overlap when it comes to dreamers."


    "Oh, right," said Kiyora. "Okay."


    The blood was taken, and band-aids were applied to the injury. Then, the doctor did the same to Gisora. "Okay, you are good to go."


    "Thank you," said Kiyora before looking at Gisora. "Well, let''s get going. My mom will be frantic when she finds out where I''ve been."


    "Mine too," said Gisora.


    As she walked back, Kiyora remembered what Felix had said. He''d seemed so certain that Laurus was behind this. But he needed to find out Laurus. Then again, Kiyora had only known him for a few months herself. But that was enough time to pick up if someone was an eldritch abomination. Even so, she had agreed to check.


    When Kiyora arrived back, Mom was waiting for her. She hugged her at once. "Kiyora, thank goodness you are safe. What happened at school?"


    "I don''t want to talk about it," said Kiyora. "I need the phone, Mom."


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    "Why?" asked Mom.


    "I need to talk to Laurus," said Kiyora. "It''s important, okay."


    Her mother let her go, and Kiyora rushed to the kitchen. Taking the phone off the hook, she dialed Laurus''s number and waited. And waited. Eventually, someone picked up.


    "Hello?" asked a cold female voice.


    "Hi, is Laurus there?" said Kiyora.


    "Laurus, phone for you!" snarled the woman. "Make it quick!" sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    There was a moment of silence as the phone changed hands.


    "Who is this?" asked Laurus.


    "Hey Laurus, it''s Kiyora." said Kiyora. How was she supposed to ask him if he was a magical psychopath? "I um... I wanted to ask if you noticed anything strange while evacuating the school?"


    "Well, there were a couple of odd shadows," said Laurus. "Why do you ask?"


    "I... do you feel any different, Laurus?" asked Kiyora. "Do you ever feel like you aren''t in control?"


    "Sometimes, but it passes," admitted Laurus. "Listen, I can''t stay on the phone much longer. My mother is glaring at me. Gisora told me about what happened earlier today, and I have something I think you''ll want to see. Meet me at the library, okay."


    "That sounds fine; I''ll be there," said Kiyora.


    "Okay, see you then," said Laurus.


    There was an audible click as the phone hung up. Kiyora put down her end of it and sighed. What could Laurus want to show her?


    "Kiyora, is something wrong?" asked Mom.


    "I saw him again, Mom," said Kiyora. "I saw Laughing Wraith in school. Could you drive me to the library? I need to do some research."


    Mom remained silent. She looked like she wanted to say something. She opened her mouth but seemed to change her mind at the last minute. "If you want, Kiyora."


    They got into the car and began to drive, rain arttling off the windshield. As they did so, Mom kept looking at her strangely, looking almost guilty. Kiyora, for her part, had found one of her favorite books in the car. She began rereading it to distract from her worries. She was sure Mom would tell her sooner or later.


    Mom sighed.


    "Kiyora, there is something I need to tell you," said Kiyora. "I didn''t tell you before now because I didn''t think it mattered, but it does."


    "Mmmhmm?" asked Kiyora.


    "You are part of the line of Emperor Ictargo," said Mom. "Sixteen generations removed."


    Kiyora turned the page. "Hmm? Well, that would explain the lucid dreams."


    "The Royal Family has always had a strong connection to the spirit world." continued Mom. "And the Department of Bloodlines is always breeding stronger dreamers."


    "That''s interesting, I guess," said Kiyora.


    "Kiyora, could you put down your book and listen to me?" asked Mom in exasperation.


    "Mom, there are forty bajillion branches to the Royal Family," said Kiyora. "How does any of this affect me?"


    "Because I cut my ties with the family," said Mom. "I was supposed to marry into the harem group of someone who had been pre-chosen for me when I was a child. Instead, I married your father."


    "Okay, so it does not affect me at all," said Kiyora.


    "It does," said Mother. "They only allowed me to marry your father because he has an innate connection to the spirit realm. One very strong for a nonroyal. But his relationship is different from mine. The Royal Family can manipulate the spiritual realm far more than most dream. However, he can see into it much more rapidly.


    "He doesn''t just paint pictures of things he imagines, Kiyora. He paints portraits of things that exist. They are out there in the universe. That is a scarce talent. He wasn''t looking for a wife; the Department of Bloodlines feared they would lose him.


    "So they were willing to let me go since it helped them. But with all that has happened, I''m afraid they will want you for something. I don''t know what, but I felt I must tell you so you know."


    "Mmhmm," said Kiyora.


    "Kiyora!" said Mom.


    Kiyora laughed. "I''m just kidding, Mom. We''ll deal with the face-eating eldritch abomination from my darkest nightmares. Then we''ll worry about the Department of Bloodlines." She paused. "...Mom, the library is on your left."


    "Oh right," said Mom. "Sorry."


    Despite the missed turn, they managed to get in before closing hours. Kiyora went to the library while Mom went into the history section. Kiyora looked for Laurus and found him in the upstairs reading room.


    He was sitting at a desk with a massive binder beneath him. He was flipping through the pages; many pictures and newspaper articles were on it. Kiyora approached. "Okay, Laurus, what was all this about?"


    He looked up and smiled. He didn''t smile much, and Kiyora didn''t like the look of it. "Oh, glad you''re here. Look at this, Kiyora." He motioned to the book.


    Kiyora pulled up a seat and sat down by him. "What is it?"


    "My big half-sister Remedia made this," said Laurus. "She''s the one who got me into horror in the first place. It''s a compilation of newspaper articles from thirty years ago. Look at this."


    Kiyora did look reluctantly. She''d always been bold in reading the news. It was pretty boring. "It''s just the opening to a playground, Laurus," said Kiyora, looking at the following article. "What''s so special about-" Her eyes widened as she saw a photograph. "Oh."


    "Yeah," said Laurus. "That indistinct figure? That appears in a whole bunch of other photographs. Those children you see in the playground, this is the last recorded sighting of them. They all disappeared, as detailed in this article.


    "No one ever saw them again."


    "That''s creepy," said Kiyora.


    "You haven''t seen the half of it," said Laurus. "Look here, multiple reports of shadows moving, of strange creatures, and other disappearances. People were going insane and chanting the words ''he is laughing'' repeatedly. Sometimes, they drew them on walls, like here.


    "This guy wrote the words in his blood."


    "How has no one heard about this before now?" asked Kiyora.


    "Because the Department of Spiritual Defense didn''t want anyone to know," said Laurus. "See, spiritual threats are affected by people believing in them. If no one knows they exist, it limits what they can do. That''s why the DSD almost always finds nothing of note. Even if they did, they wouldn''t tell us.


    "At the end of it, they declared it had been a gang of thugs trying to scare people. And look at this: they launched a raid on all the news stations simultaneously. Officially, it was because of a bomb threat. I think they were trying to get rid of the evidence." He turned to the root computer. "Look over here. I looked up Laughing Wraith on a dozen search engines. Nothing. Zip. Natta. I probably would have been traced if I''d done it at home."


    He typed in a search.


    "He is Laughing. Same thing."


    "Maybe they just didn''t make any news articles on the branch about it," said Kiyora.


    "Oh come on, Kiyora," said Laurus. "News stations always remove articles when they have a political motive. The DSD doesn''t want anyone to know about this guy."


    "So what do we do?" asked Kiyora.


    "No idea. We''re teenagers; we''re not supposed to solve this kind of thing," said Laurus. "I figure the DSD can handle this."


    "But I''m being stalked by that thing," said Kiyora.


    "Want my advice?" asked Laurus. "Dye your hair blonde instead of blue. Then start wearing skirts that show off your legs and go around pretending to be super innocent. He''ll kill you last."


    "That''s not funny," said Kiyora, laughing despite herself. Laurus had a black sense of humor, but she liked it.


    "Whatever," said Laurus, shutting the binder. "I''ve got to get home before Remedia finds out I snatched this. See you tomorrow at school."


    "The school is totaled," said Kiyora.


    "Oh right, cool, guess we''ll have the day off," said Laurus. "Let''s hang out; I''ll meet you and the others at the comic shop." And he made his way off humming. Kiyora watched him go.


    "...He is in way too good a mood," said Kiyora.


    She spent an hour or two reading fantasy. No sense in wasting the trip. When she was done, she found Mom, and they headed home. It had started to rain while they were in there. As Kiyora stared out the soaked window, she hoped Laurus hadn''t gotten caught in the rain. If he had, his book might have been ruined.


    And books were important.

 Chapter Eight: Nightmares

    When they returned, they found Dad painting inside. Or rather trying to paint. His canvas was blank, and his brush was dry. He just sat there looking at the canvas with an unreadable expression. Then he looked up like someone waking up from a bad dream. "Oh, Kiyora, how was the library?"


    "Fine," said Kiyora. "I was looking up some stuff about what happened at the school."


    "Well, I''m just glad no one was hurt," said Dad, shaking his head. He stood up from his canvas. "Oh, there is something you should know. While you were gone, we got a visit from an agent from the Department of Spiritual Defense. Some spiritual malaise has spread throughout the city.


    "They are distributing these." He brought up a bag and drew out three bottles of pills.


    "What are they?" asked Kiyora. She took them and opened them, seeing they were blue.


    "Pills, meant to cut off one''s connection to the spirit realm," said Dad with a sad look. He looked depressed now. "We''re to take these for at least the next two weeks. It''s a shame; I hoped to paint tomorrow."


    "You paint every day," said Kiyora, raising an eyebrow. She was feeling worried. "And aren''t you worried?"


    "Not really," admitted Dad. "It is probably some eldritch creature from beyond the stars or elder god or something to that effect. These sorts of things happen every twenty years or so. It''s nothing to worry about."


    "Well, I''m not taking them, Dad," said Kiyora. How could he be so calm about these things? "I''ve got things to do in the Dream World. They''re important."


    "Sorry, Kiyora, you''ll have to put it on hold," said Mom. "We''re legally obligated to take these."


    Kiyora looked at Mom seriously, then at the pill. She considered pretending to take them. Then she remembered something. Returning to the dream world meant seeing more of Wraith''s handiwork. All of a sudden, letting William handle it seemed reasonable.


    William could handle it, couldn''t he? I mean, he''d survived everything Kiyora had. And he''d had less protection in the process. And he''d have Duke Vanion, Rusara, Raynald, and all the others to help her. Plus, this DSD plan could work and save the world. And not cooperating with it could cause problems.


    "Fine," said Kiyora. "Let''s just get this over with."


    She entered the kitchen and poured herself some water to take the pills. It wasn''t fun. She nearly threw up when she tried to drink them with water. So she coughed it up and poured the water out before getting milk instead. But the pill had gone all mushy, so it was even more unpleasant. She thought she''d throw up for a moment, but she got it down. As soon as she''d finished, she felt suddenly exhausted. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she went to bed.


    When Kiyora awoke the next morning, the world seemed drab and gray. All the color had gone out of her action figures. The food on the plate set before her by Mom looked strangely unappealing. Everything seemed wrong. And she couldn''t imagine things. It was like she was reaching for something in the dark. She knew it was there, but someone snatched it when she got a hand near it.


    "Good morning, Kiyora," said Dad, coming down. "How are you?"


    "I...I didn''t dream, Dad," said Kiyora. "I haven''t dreamed in as long as I can remember. There is a place where... where my memory just stops. And then it starts up again when I wake up."


    "This is the sort of thing that other races have to deal with daily," said Dad.


    "How do they handle it?" asked Kiyora. William lived like this?


    "I imagine one gets used to it," said Dad. "Still, at least you have the day off."


    "Well, that is kind of cool, I guess," said Kiyora.


    There was something else Kiyora should be thinking about. Something significant. Something which had terrified her. But it was snatched out of her reach by something. Something had taken it from her.


    "Dad?" said Kiyora.


    "Yes," asked Dad.


    "I went to the library yesterday," said Kiyora. "Did I say why?"


    "No," said Dad. "Why do you ask?"


    "Because it''s all a blur. A lot of things are a blur," said Kiyora. "I can barely remember anything about the dream world. Can you?"


    "No. It''ll make painting very hard." mused Dad. "Still, I might as well try."


    They finished breakfast quickly. It was perfect, but Kiyora couldn''t enjoy it for some reason. She got up early and went to the door. "Hey, just so you know, I will meet Laurus at the comic shop. See you."


    "Just be careful," said Mom.


    Kiyora began her long walk. As she did so, she suddenly became aware of a great tree ship floating through the air far above. The tree at the center was of a military-grade, and the branches gleamed with magic.


    "A military tree?" murmured Kiyora. "What could it be doing out here in Actovosh? They never bring those things this close unless it is something severe. Is it that bad?"


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    Was it that bad? She couldn''t quite recall. Eventually, she visited the comic book shop but found no sign of Laurus. Abruptly, she remembered she hadn''t agreed upon an actual time with him. It had seemed to her that now was the right time.


    That was strange.


    "Hey," said Laurus.


    Kiyora jumped in surprise. She turned to see him leaning against the wall, smoking another cigarette. "Oh, Laurus," said Kiyora. "You scared me."


    "I get that a lot," said Laurus.


    Then Kiyora noticed that he had a bruise on his cheek. It was a nasty one. "What happened to your face?"


    "I fell," said Laurus. "It isn''t any big deal; I put ice on it. My dad-" He halted.


    "Yeah?" said Kiyora.


    "Nothing," said Laurus. "He says that the DSD is worried about something. They''re bringing in some serious power. That tree ship up there is the Ascendance. They must be apprehensive about Him."


    "Who?" asked Kiyora.


    Laurus looked at her like she''d grown a second head. "Don''t you remember? Laughing Wraith."


    Now she remembered. "Right, right, now I do. Hey, how does your dad know all this?"


    "My dad works in the DSD. And my mom has a job analyzing the content of a pharmaceutical company. The one distributing the pills they''re passing out." said Laurus. "It turns out that our school wasn''t the first place he hit."


    "What do you mean?" asked Kiyora.


    Laurus drew out a newspaper and showed her the headlines. "Look at this."


    "Pharmaceutical analysis team committed en masse," read Kiyora aloud. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "My mom called in sick on that day," said Laurus. "Which means she was the only one who wasn''t affected. She ended up having to examine the whole thing herself. I guess I got lucky."


    "That is not lucky," said Kiyora. "Why are you so calm about this?"


    "I guess it hasn''t set in yet," said Laurus.


    "Hey, Laurus!" called Gisora as she rushed up to them. "I got that info you wanted!"


    "Gisora?" said Kiyora. "What information?"


    "Oh, Laurus and I have been gathering information on this monster thing," said Gisora. "The DSD is going to take him out soon enough, but I want to know as much as I can about it before they cover it all up."


    "What makes you so sure they''ll fix it?" asked Kiyora.


    "You''ve been taking your medicine, haven''t you?" asked Gisora. "The whole city has been cut off from the spiritual world. Pretty soon, Laughing Wraith''s power will shrivel; they''ll find and finish him off."


    "Yes, yes, we all know that," said Laurus. "Now, what did you find?"


    "Turns out that ship above us, the one coming here. It has a special team of trained Dream Sages on it," said Gisora. "They''re our age, but they fight monsters like this kind all the time."


    "So they''re child soldiers then," said Kiyora.


    "No, they''re specially trained operatives," said Gisora.


    "Who are children," said Kiyora. "And therefore are child soldiers."


    "Well, sure, but most people, as they get older, stop connecting to the dream world as much," said Gisora. "It makes sense that they''d want to use younger people. Anyway, they''re going to kill Laughing Wraith."


    "Sure they are." scoffed Laurus. "Where is Reya anyway?"


    "I went to her house," said Gisora. "She isn''t feeling very well."


    Something needed to be fixed here. Something didn''t add up. But what? She turned over everything she had seen and heard in her mind. And suddenly, it dawned on her. "...I have to go."


    "Why?" asked Gisora.


    "Not now!" said Kiyora.


    Then she turned and ran. Ran as quickly as she could with all her might. She got home and didn''t stop running until she threw open the door and entered her house. "Mom, I need to use the phone now!"


    Mom was reading in the living room and looked up in surprise. "Why?"


    "I need to call the DSD," said Kiyora.


    "What about?" asked Mom.


    "I... I think that someone might have screwed with the meds they are handing out to everyone," said Kiyora.


    "What do you mean?" said Mom, closing her book and standing up.


    "I was talking to Laurus just now," said Kiyora. "He said that his mother was one of the people in charge of examining the medication. Everyone in her department was hospitalized except her. If she got affected by Laughing Wraith, then... then he might have screwed with the medicine.


    "He''s done this before, Mom; I need to call them now. I need to call them so they can recall it before... before anyone else gets hurt."


    Then Mom leaned in and wrapped her arms around Kiyora. "You don''t need to worry, dear. It''s already too late."


    Her grip began to tighten. Kiyora struggled with it. What was going on? "Mom, Mom, you are hurting me..."


    Mom''s arms were now around her neck, crushing in like a vice. "Don''t worry, dear; I will strangle you. It''ll be a lot less painful than what Master Wraith intends to do to everyone else."


    "Mom, please..." gasped Kiyora. "Please let go..."


    This wasn''t her. Mom would never do something like this! She had to get free! Had to escape! The grip loosened only a little as the embrace continued. "Years and years ago, he ran wild over many cities. He fed off of the suffering and misery of those he hunted. And whenever he came close to killing him, he simply fled into the dream world. However, the DSD figured out how he operated. They cut him off.


    "His power waned, and he was banished back to oblivion.


    "But now, thanks to you and Laurus, all that can be set right."


    "Mom... don''t... kill me..." gasped Kiyora.


    Her vision was going dark. She couldn''t breathe. She couldn''t do anything. Mom was too strong. He was laughing...


    No.


    Kiyora freed an arm, grabbed a lamp, and smashed it against Mom''s shoulder. Mom screamed and fell backward as the lamp shattered, and Kiyora turned to run into the next room.


    "Come back, Kiyora! Come back!" said Mom. "There isn''t anywhere you can run!"


    Kiyora found Dad''s painting. "Dad, you have to help me! Mom, she''s..."


    Dad turned around, and she saw the painting. It was a face too terrible to describe. It was the worst thing anyone had ever seen in their darkest dreams, multiplied by a thousand. But what was worse was Dad''s face. He was smiling and looking very attentive.


    "He is laughing. He is laughing. He is laughing..." said Dad.


    "Kiyora, come back," said Mom. "We aren''t done."


    Kiyora ran for the other door, but Dad was in the way. So she went for the window. She got it open but found the screen in the way. She fumbled with it as Mom and Dad closed in. Then she realized she didn''t have time.


    She punched the screen repeatedly, breaking it off, and slipped through the window. Her hand hurt. Dad caught ahold of her shoe, and she was held in place. Hauling on it, she pulled it off, got to her feet, and ran.

 Chapter Nine: In Darkness

    He was swimming in a sea of blood. The limbs of the slain reached up to grab at him, and William could hardly keep his head above water. He gasped for air, grabbed out for anything, and found a chain.


    Pulling himself up, he tried to get away from the grasping corpses. Then he realized that blood was soaking his hands. The chain was made from bone and tendon, and far above him, he saw the face of his enemy. But it was only Tanith, drenched in blood.


    He screamed and fell backward into oblivion as the chain broke.


    He awoke, grasping for his sword, and found himself safe. Around the ashes of the campfire were the rest of his group. Felix was on watch, a little ways off.


    "Bad dreams?" asked Felix.


    "I see them, Felix," said William. "The faces of the people I''ve healed."


    "That''s ironic." mused Felix. "Usually, one sees those they have killed."


    "They all thought I did it," said William as he stood and moved to stand beside him. "Every village we visit, everyone there thinks I''m the one who did it. And every time I think I''ve seen the worst Laughing Wraith can do, he proves me wrong."


    "We''re done with the villages now," said Felix. "I''m sure you''ll be able to distract yourself from your healer''s guilt soon. Try ending the lives of some sentient creatures."


    "Don''t take that tone with me, Felix." snapped William. "You had the luxury of sitting outside the village while I tended to the wounded."


    "You had the luxury of only facing Laughing Wraith for a day or two!" shot back Felix. "He hunted me for nearly a week. Every moment was a living nightmare. You''ll forgive me if I''m less than sympathetic about you having to heal a few cuts."


    The disrespect in his voice set something off in William. Felix was a servant. Yet because of their history, he presumed to treat William with disrespect. It didn''t matter that no one else was around to see. Before he knew what he was doing, he grabbed Felix by the throat and shoved him down against the ground. The other boy grappled with him, trying to pull him off. His fingers tightened their grip as naturally as breathing. Then it dawned on William what he was doing, and he pulled back in horror.


    "Felix..." William said. "Felix, I-"


    Felix rubbed his neck. "Forget it. I know exactly what it is to come into direct contact with Wraith''s will. I''m surprised you didn''t do something like that sooner."


    "How... how did you survive all that time?" asked William. "Weren''t you affected by him?"


    "When I got back to you and Kiyora, I had these impulses," said Felix, "murderous impulses on an emotional level. They hit you repeatedly until they seem natural, and then you start falling victim to them."


    "So how did you keep from acting on them?" asked William.


    "Wraith confuses you on an emotional level," said Felix. "I convinced myself that killing you or others would be suicidal. Monsters respond better to pragmatism than they do morality. Even the monsters of the heart."


    "You''re a lot stronger than I am," said William.


    "Well, you were the one who said it, not I," said Felix. "With your permission, William, I''d like to go on ahead and scout a bit. If you''ll take my watch."


    "Of course," said William.


    Felix disappeared into the shadows, and William took his watch as promised. Soon enough, he was joined by Tanith, who was an early riser at the best of times. She sat down next to him and began cleaning pieces of her armor. Neither one of them said anything for a while; they just sat there.


    "How long ago did you leave Carn Gable?" asked William.


    "Three," said Tanith. "I was Raynald''s squire, remember? And you were still a complete weakling."


    "I was," admitted William. "Seathorius did wonders for me."


    "Well, I guess if you didn''t have it in you to be strong, you would have died." mused Tanith. "I''m jealous, though. I mean, I''ve been going around fighting in all kinds of skirmishes. But you got a better reputation than me just by writing a book and publishing it."


    "That was Father''s idea," said William. "And I don''t see why it should make me anything special. I just wrote down what happened to me and got it published because of my rank. I''m sure you''ve had plenty of adventures like that. You should write some of them down."


    "Well, I do have a few," said Tanith. "I doubt I''ll have many from this campaign, though. There is no glory in this. Or profit, for that matter."


    "No, there isn''t," said William. "Still, those people needed our help, Tanith. There was no shame in helping them."


    "Yes, yes," said Tanith, "but I joined Raynald to get rich robbing Calishans and winning renown. Not to go around watching you heal the sick and injured and trying to keep me from throwing up.


    "Besides, I was talking about Wraith."


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "When I started as a mercenary under Argath Marn, we raided Calishan shipping. We plundered them from all over," said Tanith. "Then, one day, we got bold and risked an attack on a Calishan coastal settlement. I was against it at first, and others were, but once we got into the thick of things, it was addicting. We took a lot of enslaved people, stole everything we could, and burned everything we couldn''t.


    "We must have killed at least a hundred Calishans, probably more. I remember we put a bunch of their elderly, you know, the ones who wouldn''t sell on the slave market. We barricaded them in a house and set it on fire.


    "I remember hearing those heathens screaming. It was the best day of my life." She was smiling wistfully. "The best part was when I had my way with a priestess beneath the sight of Baltoth''s statue. It was great."


    William stared, remembering the dream. You thought you knew someone, and then this happened. "Elranor above! Why would you do that?"


    "They''re enemies," said Tanith. "Besides, we ended up rescuing a bunch of Harlenorian prisoners. The Calishans had done the same thing to us. An eye for an eye, you know. Where was I?"


    "Laughing Wraith, profit, and glory," said William.


    "Oh right," said Tanith. "Anyway, we never did anything like this. Wraith didn''t take anyone to sell as slaves. He didn''t kill anyone. He didn''t even steal anything. He just did this to make them suffer. It''s sick."


    "But you enjoyed causing suffering to the Calishans," noted William.


    "Sure, but that was part of the crusade," said Tanith. "The Calishans killed Anoa IX and ended our golden age. We have a right to rape and murder them; they do the same thing to us. Wraith is just doing all this for fun."


    William needed to learn how to respond to this. He should pretend the whole village burning thing didn''t bother him. Yes, he could focus on her hatred of Wraith.


    "Well, that''s why we need to stop him," said William. "Besides, we''ve dealt with all the villages now. And Father has Lord Asimir under siege. Once we''ve captured him, we should be able to stop Wraith." He sighed. "I wish Massacre was here." sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What, the chimera?" asked Tanith. "How did you tame that thing anyway?"


    "I didn''t," said William. "She likes my music and hangs around me to listen to more of it. I asked her to come with me, but she didn''t want to. I''m not sure why."


    At that moment, Felix came out of the shadows of the hills above them. His hand was on his sword. Tanith looked up. "Where have you been, Felix?"


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    "Scouting ahead," said Felix. "Lord Asimir''s castle is breached. Duke Vanion is launching his assault as we speak. We''re too late to join the fight."


    "Thank Elranor," said William.


    "Damn it!" said Tanith at the same time. "All of you up! Get your armor on! We''ve got to join the battle and see some goddamn excitement! At least before this miserable war ends with us the victors! Come on!"


    The men got up with much kicking and swearing by Tanith to move them. Soon, everyone had donned their armor and moved through the rocky hills. Tanith was in a fury and drove them on without rest.


    It was a wasted effort. By the time they came out of the hills, they saw Lord Asimir''s castle flying the banner of House Gabriel. Screams could still be heard from within, but from the looks of things, the battle had ended. The village outside the castle was intact, oddly enough. William had expected to see it in flames.


    Father''s pavilion stood beyond the battle. A man was being escorted toward it none too gently, and Raynald was with him. William quickened his pace and soon reached the pavilion as the man was being dragged in.


    "He is laughing... he is laughing..." muttered the man.


    "On your knees, you worm!" snarled Raynald. "And speak plainly, or I''ll cut your throat."


    "Tanith," said William, "could you wait outside?" Having Raynald and Tanith in a negotiation could be overpowering.


    "Right," said Tanith, "maybe reinforcements will arrive for me to fight."


    William was let through by the guards and found the man he had seen standing unsteadily in front of Father. Father had his hands clasped before him as he sat in a chair as though he were on a throne. The man was gasping.


    Father glanced up to see William and nodded before turning his attention back to the man. The man was perfectly ordinary in appearance. You could miss him in a room where only he was standing. He wore a yellow doublet that was stained with blood.


    "You have much to answer for, Lord Asimir," said Father. "Laughing Wraith has been wandering the realms tormenting your people. And you have done nothing. Agents of Calisha have been operating on your doorstep, and you have done nothing.


    "Explain yourself and why I shouldn''t have you hung?"


    "It wasn''t my fault," said Asimir. "I never intended things to get to this point."


    "Really?" asked Vanion. "You defied my demand that you open your gates and surrender to my justice. How do you account for this?"


    "I didn''t have a choice!" said Asimir. "None of us did! We could hear him laughing, and it was all we could do to question it. You don''t know what having him inside your mind is like. You do things even though you know you shouldn''t!"


    "Father," said William, "what he says is true. I was nearly driven to attack a lifelong friend from moments in his presence."


    "I see," said Father, "Very well, Lord Asimir. Tell me everything that has led to this point, and I will consider showing you mercy."


    Asimir paused. "I... it started years ago when Argath Marn was the governor. My family we had... we never supported Harlenor coming in, even if we never said it. We loved Calisha and would have given our lives for Baltoth."


    "So you made a deal with Laughing Wraith?" surmised Father.


    "It didn''t start like that. At first, it was just patriotism," said Asimir. "A young man named Korasus approached us. He had been a mercenary in the Calishan army and said he wanted to make sure Calisha could retake Artarq. But to do that, they had to be supplied with malas. Malas was the key to all of it, you know.


    "A sorcerer who takes it has their powers heightened. If the Calishans had no, it would give your kind a terrible advantage. So we helped him. We gave them some of the malas from the mines and were paid. Argath Marn looked the other way and got a cut of the profits, and everything worked."


    "And then Argath Marn was removed for corruption," mused Father. "I begin to see where this is going."


    "Yes, you came in, and we couldn''t bribe you," said Asimir. "You wouldn''t negotiate. You brought in your armies and made everything go your way, cracking down on the gangs. Our profits were decreasing.


    "Then, a few years ago, Korasus came to me. He said he had a new plan to take Artarq away from Harlenor once and for all. He had been reading some ancient texts. He believed that releasing the goddess Typhos would cause great chaos. Enough for Calisha to seize control of Artarq.


    "He asked permission to begin digging on my territory, and I granted it. I fancied myself a patriot."


    "Then what?" asked Father.


    "At first, everything went well," said Asimir. "But when we came to the seal... it was too great. The gods themselves had made it. It would take a being of massive power to break it, even weakened.


    "Everything ground to a halt.


    "Then Korasus met with a boy named Laurus a few months ago."


    Laurus. So Felix was right.


    "Laurus said he had a plan that could break the seal. Laughing Wraith would put elements of his spirit into the malas we took. Then, we would sell it to the common people at a loss.


    "It worked wonders. Gradually, they became addicted, and their wills were subverted. And over months, Laurus began to ebb away at the seal. But... but things started happening. Villagers kept reporting a strange, horrifying figure appearing around them. I saw him a few times myself.


    "He never killed anyone, but people started to have... bad dreams. Night terrors awoke them screaming. Korasus assured us that progress was being made. That soon, the seal would be broken.


    "Then, just a few days ago, Laurus appeared. He said that the power he was getting from the malas was waning. That someone was breaking his hold over them. And he said he had to cause pain and horror among the villagers."


    "And you let him, you damn coward!" roared Raynald.


    "I didn''t!" cried Asimir. "I refused! I told him I wanted nothing more to do with him, but then... He appeared. He had been inside Laurus all along. He appeared, and he wouldn''t go away until I agreed! I tried, but... I couldn''t say no! I couldn''t!"


    "Well, I think that just about tells us what we need to know," said Father. "Lord Asimir, you are a fool and a traitor, and to slay you would be within my rights. However, I am inclined to be content with stripping you of your rank and title. Provided you lead us to this dig site at once. Perform your duties properly, and you may live through this and have a chance to rebuild what you lost. Betray us, and I can assure you your family will not.


    "Understand?"


    "Y-yes, Duke Vanion," said Asimir.


    "Good," Father smiled. "Take Lord Asimir to his family and treat them with dignity. I want no atrocities put upon his people. They have suffered enough."


    "Vanion," said Raynald, "the men have been slogging through this for weeks. If we don''t let them loot the place, they won''t be happy."


    "Yes, I suppose not." mused Vanion. "Very well, we will seize Asimir''s treasury and distribute some of it among the men. Just don''t destroy any artwork or bring harm to the people. Reinforce that this is a mission of mercy and liberation upon an imprisoned populace."


    "As you wish," said Raynald.


    Everyone else filed out. However, Father motioned for William to stay. At last, the tent was empty save for the two of them. Except for Felix standing by the doorway, he didn''t count. Father made his way over and looked over William. "Well, you''ve had your first experience of campaign life. How is it?"


    It''s best to put on a bold front. "I can''t complain," said William. "I have shoes and food to eat, so I think I''ve already seen worse during my trip to Seathorius."


    "Yes, I suppose you have," said Father. "You have learned that war is lengthy periods of unpleasant boredom. That and brief stints of terror. I don''t know what your mother sees in it.


    "Do you have anything new to report?"


    "I... yes," said William. "Kiyora was right. Wraith is pure evil."


    "What is evil, William?" asked Father.


    "Wrong actions," said William. "Things you shouldn''t do."


    "And why shouldn''t you do them?" asked Father.


    "Because they aren''t right," said William.


    "And why aren''t they right?" asked Father.


    "Because," William paused, "because they hurt people."


    "I see," said Father. "Do you believe it is wrong for a brother to sleep with his sister?"


    "Of course," said William.


    "Why?" asked Father. "Who are they hurting?"


    William thought about that. He wasn''t comfortable with this topic, but Father had asked a question. That is a very odd question. Where was he going with this? "Um, the children who would be born. Their souls would be incarnated in flawed bodies. And their families with scandal."


    "I see," said Father. "So what if Rusara came up with a spell that prevented the negative effects of inbreeding? What if, thanks to that spell, society changed to accept incest as right? Would it change from being wrong to being right?"


    "No!" said William. "Right and wrong don''t change just because people want them to change. The gods laid down them long before this world was even born."


    "Ah," said Father, "so you would appeal to the authority of the gods as the ultimate source of right and wrong, would you?"


    "Yes," said William.


    "Yet the gods themselves have differing opinions of what is right or wrong," noted Father. "When you heal a man beset with a horrific disease, are you doing a good thing, William?"


    "Yes," said William.


    "What about the disease?" asked Father. "It feeds upon the person. Much like we feed on animals, we hunt. You are harming it when you use magic upon it."


    "This is absurd, Father," said William. "You can''t think that incest and flesh-eating diseases are good things, can you?"


    "Of course not," said Father. "To me, they are abominations. However, others may have a different opinion. And some of those others are gods. The truth is, son, I don''t believe there is such a thing as good and evil as we understand it. What we think of as good is a survival reflex of sorts.


    "Societies which acted a certain way survived. Those who acted otherwise imploded in on themselves and were wiped out. Thus, our ideas of right and wrong. Ultimately, evil is merely our most destructive impulses let loose without restraint."


    "But Wraith is evil!" said William.


    "Yes, of course, he is," said Father. "We both agree on that. Our difference is that I believe that evil is an entirely subjective affair. While you believe that he violates laws laid down since before the dawn of time."


    "So you believe that if believing something is right makes it so?" William halted, trying to grapple with the idea. "That whether Wraith is evil or not is a matter of opinion? You can''t believe that."


    "I can believe something, even if it isn''t a pleasant thought," mused Vanion. "What of you, William? What if tomorrow Elranor came down from on high? What if he proclaimed that murder, theft, rape, and lying were now good? That mercy, charity, love, and truth were now evil?


    "Does Elranor love good things because they are good? Or are things good because Elranor loves them?"


    "I..." William halted. "I don''t know."


    "Good answer," said Vanion. "It is never wrong to admit you don''t know. Unless you are in public, you must pretend everything is going according to your plan. There is something to be said for the appearance of omniscience." Then he turned and looked at Felix. "Still, I must commend you, Felix. Your judgment of Laughing Wraith was quite accurate."


    "Thank you, milord," said Felix.


    William seized at the chance for a change of subject. "What I want to know is how was this Laurus able to hide his true intentions from Kiyora? She sounded like she was close with him."


    "We can ask him when a sword is at his throat," said Vanion. "For now, take this time to rest. In the morning, we resume the hunt once and for all."

 Chapter Ten: The Battle of the Ruins

    A few days later, the army came within sight of the ruins. Along the way, they had met up with many Dust Elves, who had also been mobilized. Their numbers were about one thousand, perhaps a third of all the Dust Elves in Artarq. William hoped they didn''t suffer serious casualties; elves had trouble replacing losses. That was why Anoa the Bright had done as well as he had.


    Though, given the quality and range of their bows, perhaps he need not worry.


    The levy infantry had to be chided and driven to keep moving. Most of them were inexperienced with the fast marches Vanion''s veterans used. Even with the paved roads, they were exhausted. It kept constant effort by their officers for them to set up a real camp. By the time they had started, everyone else was nearly done. William had spent a lot of time healing those who fell victim to heat and exhaustion. Many would have died from the journey if he hadn''t had his powers.


    As it stood, they all got there.


    William remembered his first experience with making camp. These city folk didn''t seem well prepared for this life. Still, they''d get better once they had to do it a few dozen times. William, Felix, and Tanith had, and they''d been children when they learned it.


    Even so, William was surprised at just how weak living in a city made you.


    "Look at these weaklings," muttered Tanith. "It''s hard to believe any of them have Harlenorian blood. Let alone Haldrenian."


    That was true. Many of them were as fair-skinned as any Harlenorian warrior. But they lacked the discipline and strength, to say nothing of the willpower. They could do much better than they were, but they thought they were at their limit.


    "Lay off them, Tanith," said Raynald. "We''re breaking them into the life.


    "You can''t expect a partially trained man to do as good as a veteran."


    "Yes, Raynald," said Tanith.


    Once Father had a loyal army of levies at his disposal, he would no longer be dependent on outside help from Antion. They could fill out his forces. But what if they were corrupted? Couldn''t some local nobility call on their loyalty to local elites?


    Father probably had a plan for that, or he wouldn''t have done it.


    It hardly mattered at this stage, so he put it aside for later.


    At last, William looked to the ruins and knew them immediately, though he''d never seen the outside. They were small, no larger than one of the moderately sized temples in Arsheen. The stones were of a dusty tan color, and the masonry was broken in many places. Many pillars were still standing, though much of the roof had fallen in. It was much less impressive than William had been expecting.


    The ruins had not been made to be a defensive fortress. However, it might make a difference against a weaker enemy.


    Even so, it was surrounded by a large square wall that had been recently repaired. On it were many rough-looking satyrs, clad in furs. They wore axes and bows, and above their heads was a banner bearing the emblem of a roaring black lion.


    Father looked down at it as his soldiers assembled. He raised a hand, bringing them to a halt. "Is that the place?"


    "Yes, it was uncovered some years ago," said Asimir, who was being watched like a hawk. Several guards were always near him and had been for the whole journey. "No one dared go up there before Korasus."


    "Those banners bear the symbol of the worshippers of Fortenex," mused Father. "How does he factor into this, I wonder?"


    "Mercenaries, no doubt," said Raynald. "Satyrs will sell their souls for a fight and some gold. They''re more reliable than people in some ways. Give the order, Vanion. I''ll raze that temple to the ground."


    "Not yet, Raynald," said Vanion, raising a hand. "We''ll allow them to surrender first. Assemble our forces for war. Tanith, offer them the flag of conversation."


    "As you wish, milord," said Tanith. She didn''t look particularly happy at the notion of being a herald. Why not? It was a great honor.


    Tanith seemed to guess William''s thoughts as the flag was handed to her. "It''s dangerous. Satyrs sometimes like to shoot messengers when they feel like sending a message. If I''m going to die in a puddle of my blood, I''d rather do it surrounded by the corpses of my enemies."


    "Good luck," said William.


    "Elranor, don''t fail me now," said Tanith as she walked off.


    Tanith approached the walls, her cloak and blonde hair flying around her in the wind. It was a signal representing the desire to meet between commanders. Moving forward, she unfurled the banner and waved it. There was the twang of bows, and arrows began to whistle past her. One of them bounced off her left pauldron as she rushed back. An arrow shot through the shoulder of her cloak, and she fell but rose again and rushed on. Her armor had blocked it.


    "Those bastards!" she roared. "Did you see that? No sooner had I come in range and they tried to shoot me!


    "Now, can we kill them all?"


    "Unfortunately for you, we do not need to confront them directly," said Vanion. "They''ve just shown me how far they can shoot. And we can shoot farther." He looked to the leader of the dust-elven archers. "Amenos. Move forward and unleash hell. Raynald, have the spearmen form a shield wall before the archers to repel any attempt to sally forth! Tanith fell one of the trees here and build a ram."


    "Yes, sir," said Tanith, looking frustrated.


    Father gave out many other orders, and the men complied with practiced efficiency. William took a seat on a rock behind the archers and watched.


    The dust elves pulled back their composite bows in unison. For a moment, they held, faces still.


    "Loose!" cried Amenos.


    Then they launched their shafts. A vast wave of arrows arched overhead and landed amidst the satyrs. Many were shot down in moments, falling from the walls. The sound of screams could be heard.


    Then the dust elves fired again. This time the satyrs had fitted together with their shields to defend and did better. Their archers shot back but to no avail. All of them fell short. And some of the satyrs fell dead.


    The dust elves fired again.


    William watched with morbid fascination. The Dust Elves were not to be trifled with. Then the gates were thrown open! A vast war cry was unleashed as the satyrs charged forward, roaring defiance to the heavens!


    The dust elves slightly adjusted their target and fired into their midsts. Most of the berserkers died in seconds. A few of them rushed back into the relative safety of the walls. Those who did not were too few to do anything but die against the shield wall.


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    "This is just pathetic," said Felix.


    "Depressing is the term I was thinking of," said William. "What I don''t understand is what the satyrs are doing here? Fortenex isn''t allied with Wraith, to my knowledge."


    "Raynald is likely right," said Felix. "Perhaps they are mercenaries."


    "No," said Father. "Our satyr allies in Khasmir tell me that the worshippers of Fortenex are a minority. They have been fighting a losing war for generations. I doubt they have time to serve as mercenaries."


    "Then why help Wraith?" asked William. "They are a long way from home."


    "Likely some infernal alliance or other." mused Father. "Perhaps they hoped Wraith would assist them in their wars. It is not presently relevant. Remember, William, speculation about the nature and plans of your foes is valuable. But it should never detract from how you deal with the here and now.


    "The past is dead. We live in the present. And the future is determined by what we do now."


    "Where is Rusara anyway?" asked William. "I was hoping to speak with her, but she still hasn''t gotten back yet."


    "You don''t suppose I''d have all my best lieutenants committed in one place, do you?" asked Father in good humor. Several screams rang out. "No, Rusara is watching the river with Sarris. This would be an ideal time for Calisha to move against us while we are distracted, putting down a rebellion. Never get so focused on one enemy that you forget the others."


    "I understand," said William.


    "Doesn''t that contradict what you said before, Lord Vanion?" asked Tanith suddenly.


    "In a way, you are right, Tanith," said Vanion. "What is a wise policy in one situation is usually abysmally stupid in others. All men are living contradictions."


    "Like how Gail Arengeth declares that we ought to have nonstop war with the spawn of Baltoth," said Tanith. "And then works to try and avoid a war in Gel Carn, even when necessary."


    "Or when I put on the mask of a civilized and courteous man, even as I brutally slaughter whole armies," said Vanion. "Most people firmly believe things in theory and then fail to execute them when it comes to it.


    "If you become aware of your hypocrisy, however, you can work around it."


    "I act as I believe," said Tanith.


    "You realize that our objective is a truce with Calisha, don''t you?" asked Father. "Why support that if you truly believe in unending war?"


    "It''s a strategically sound move," replied Tanith, dodging the question. "The longer we maintain control over Artarq, the more secure our hold is. If we can force Baltoth to a stalemate, things will only go badly for him in the future."


    "You were quite vocal in criticizing Benarus'' policy toward Telix," noted Vanion. "Surely the same argument could hold there. A stable Gel Carn will be better able to fight Calisha."


    "Telix doesn''t hold any official rank in Calisha," said Tanith. "Killing him off could be done quite easily with few long-term consequences. If that means wiping out the Black Dragon race, so be it. The gold they hoard could pay for a dozen campaigns."


    "And there you see the danger of thinking only of the moment," said Father, looking to William. "Gold cannot buy goodwill. And misplaced valor can rapidly destroy it.


    "A victory over Adrian Wrynncurth would have been a costly one and would have left a power vacuum. Other, less reasonable, enemies of Harlenor would have filled. The giants have been growing in number, after all. And if it had been a defeat, Antion should have had to intervene directly. That would have created a second front and made our task all the harder."


    Tanith looked away, a shadow coming over her eyes. Why did she appear guilty? "Would you prefer to have the spawn of Baltoth regarded as an equal in negotiations?"


    "My entire strategy hinges on solidifying my gains by negotiation," said Vanion with a shrug. "You cannot maintain an empire purely by battles. They are a critical part of any strategy, but any victory will be hollow without the ability to negotiate.


    "I''m afraid you''ve spent too much time with Argath Marn and Arengeth."


    "I agree," laughed Tanith.


    The screams of agony could be heard coming from within the fort now. Corpses were lining the walls as more and more arrows fell. William shifted, feeling uneasy at the turn this conversation had gone. "So, this seems to be going well."


    "Yes," said Father. "It is. Asimir''s fortress was the real threat. This is little more than a mop-up."


    "And I had to miss that," muttered Tanith. "Why don''t they have better bows? I might have seen their action there."


    "That, at least, cannot be held against them," said Father. "Dust Elves have some of the finest bows in the world. Only the Calishans have come to match them, and then only with their elite units."


    Another volley was shot.


    "Duke Vanion," said Tanith. "can we charge?" Her voice was eager and girlish.


    "Wait a while longer," said Father.


    Tanith looked impatient. "What are we waiting for here, anyway?"


    "Until all or most of them are dead from arrow fire," said Vanion. "I brought a great many extra arrows."


    William shifted. Tanith wanted to fight, but she had been denied that so far. She hadn''t changed; in the old days, she''d always been pressing people for spars. Tanith usually won these. He decided to change the subject. "The Dust Elves have certainly lived up to their reputation."


    "They always do," said Father. "Dust Elves are not an enemy you ever want to fight."


    "Duke Vanion," said Tanith, looking impatient and annoyed. "This strategy doesn''t become knights of Harlenor! We should be meeting them in direct combat, cutting them down honorably! They can''t even defend themselves. Where''s the fun in this?"


    "They should have considered that before they tried to shoot my messenger," said Father. Another volley was launched.


    "Vanion, let me engage them," said Raynald, returning. "We''re wasting time here. I''ll lead the charge myself."


    Father paused. He looked at the fortress and then at his men. They were eager to fight and disappointed at the lack of action. On the walls, nothing alive could be seen. He walked up to Amenos and spoke with him. The volleys ceased, and Father came back. "I believe that puts an end to things. Raynald, move in and secure the temple. If you find any prisoners, free them. Kill everyone else. When someone violates the rules of war, they lose their protection. Treat your enemies with mercy and courtesy when they play by the rules.


    "But when they violate them, crush them into the ashes of history. Let their fall demonstrate what happens to those who abandon common decency."


    "Isn''t that a bit much?" asked William.


    "They violated parley," said Father. "My patience is exhausted."


    William tapped Felix on the shoulder as everyone began to move out eagerly. "Felix, let''s go." S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Why are we going?" asked Felix.


    "I want to see this Laurus up close," said William. "And put my sword through him if I can manage it."


    "As you wish," said Felix.


    William had been expecting Felix to object. He wasn''t sure how to react. "Are you alright?"


    "No, I''m not alright; I''ve seen the same things you have," said Felix. "Watching this Laurus get hacked to bits sounds downright cheering right now. Let''s go."


    They followed after the army as it advanced. No arrows were shot from the walls. While the ram was brought forward, they began bashing it against the gates. And not while the gates were flung open. It broke so easily.


    Beyond, they saw bodies. A lot of bodies. They were flung across the courtyard, riddled with black-feathered arrows. Blood was everywhere, and the scent of death was sickening.


    "This is not a glorious way to win," muttered Tanith. "Even the gate was disappointing."


    "You don''t imagine they had time to replace it with proper defenses, do you?" asked Raynald. "And it worked. We still get to loot them. Sometimes the easy victories are refreshing."


    William wandered among the dead, not agreeing. The soldiers of Harlenor descended on the bodies like vultures. Some among the dead were Calishans, others satyrs, but none of them were held in any respect. Men stole whatever they could find. He knew these were worshippers of a demon god, serving a monster, but the entire affair made him feel ill. Then he saw the stone. It was large, half-submerged in the ground, and it was splattered with blood. There was a glowing orange rune on it. He kneeled by it to examine it.


    "We''ve got one over here, Raynald!" called a man. "A survivor!"


    "Please... please help me..." said a voice.


    "Why are you consulting me?" snapped Raynald. "We have our orders. Finish him."


    "No!" cried the man. "Please don''t hurt me!"


    ''Wait!'' said William, standing up.


    There was a scream cut short. Raynald looked up in surprise. "William, what''s wrong?"


    How was he supposed to explain this? These were his enemies. If he showed compassion for them in defiance of his father''s orders, it would make them look weak. He looked at the runes. "Look at this. Look at this rune."


    "What is it?" asked Raynald, coming forward.


    He kneeled and began to analyze it. "These are blood runes. They absorb the life energy of anything killed near them and send it to something. Usually an object like a gem, but in this case, it''s a person."


    He looked to the temple. And then he realized that they were too late. "Oh, no," He drew his sword and rushed toward the temple doors.


    "Wait, William!" called Raynald. "Come back!"


    "Wraith has been playing us!" roared William. "We have to stop him!"


    He made it through the temple doors and saw the same place he had before. There was the gate, standing there, and there was Wraith. Or so William assumed. It was Wraith; he could tell by the sheer aura of horror surrounding him. Yet as he turned around, William saw a face just like his own.


    "Laurus, I presume," said William.


    Laughing Wraith smiled. William charged forward, blade in hand. And then the gate opened, and there was only light.

 Chapter Eleven: Flight

    Kiyora had just gotten away from her house before people began to shamble out of every door. They had broad, unnatural smiles, and they walked after her. Kiyora ran all the faster, her bare feet hurting on the sidewalk as she did so. Her heart was pumping, sweat-drenched her brow as they came in around her; her feet ached, and her mind reeled. Where was she going to go now? What did she do?


    Kiyora needed help; she had to get out of here.


    "He is laughing," They chanted as they came after her. "He is laughing. He is laughing. He is laughing.


    "Shut up!!" roared Kiyora. "Stay away!! This can''t be... this can''t..." She needed help. Help!


    Then there was a flash, and William was there, sword in hand. The light surrounding her sent the possessed people reeling back, crying out.


    "Kiyora!" said William.


    He was real! Kiyora hugged him before she could stop herself. "William, how did you get here?"


    "How in Elranor''s name should I know?" asked William. "Who are these people?"


    "I uh... okay, Laughing Wraith has possessed many people in this city," said Kiyora. She was leaning on her knees and panting for breath. She had not been ready for today at all. How had Laughing Wraith done all this? Outmaneuvered the DSD so handily? No, wait, Kiyora knew how it happened, and now he had Mom and Dad. And Kiyora only had William for help in stopping him. "I need your help to break the spell."


    The chant began again. "He is laughing. He is laughing."


    William shoved her off him and raised his sword. "One moment."


    Wait a minute? Was he going to start killing people?! "William, we can''t kill these people, we can''t?!"


    "Well, then, what do you suggest?" asked William.


    "Let''s just run until we can figure that out," said Kiyora. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And run they did. Kiyora led them mindlessly through the streets as quickly as she could. She didn''t have a destination in mind. Where was she supposed to go? She didn''t know where to start.


    It was a good thing that no one was pursuing them very quickly. People came out of their houses, but they were slow to respond. Kiyora was relieved at that, but she didn''t understand it either.


    "I don''t get it," she said. "Mom and Dad were completely possessed. Why would Wraith be so slow to move these?"


    "The possession is not very strong on them," said William. "I sense a presence here, but... it feels stretched thin. Laughing Wraith may be having trouble controlling his minions. If so, that gives us the advantage." He paused. "These buildings are strange. They look as though they have been formed from living wood. But how is that possible?"


    "Actovosh formed them on our behalf," said Kiyora. "You see, he uses his roots to grow the basic shape of our house. We ask Emperor Ictargo for permission to construct a place, and if he grants it, Actovosh does it for us. Then we build around it."


    "Surely, there are limitations." mused William.


    "Of course, there are," said Kiyora. "But we don''t have time for that! Mom and Dad are possessed! We need a plan."


    "No, we need a safe house," said William. "Somewhere, there are few people. I doubt Wraith will take long before he learns to use his new puppets more skillfully. We need somewhere people don''t usually go."


    "Good idea," said Kiyora. "We''ll go to the library."


    She led him on with a new resolve. They could beat this; they really could. Kiyora and William just had to keep their heads above water long enough to find a solution. But what might Laughing Wraith do while they were treading water? He could be killing people or causing all kinds of horrible things? They had to move fast. But how could they move faster than they were right now?


    No, stop panicking. Just focus on what you have to do right now and make a plan when you have something to make a plan with. Kiyora and William had to stay alive right now. And there was the rub. It wasn''t long before the possessed began to gather again. This time, they came from both directions in great crowds. They were moving faster, running at them with empty eyes.


    "He is laughing; he is laughing, he is laughing!" They chanted.


    They were surrounded. William looked around, then threw aside the fold of his cloak and drew out his harp. "Elranor, guide my hands."


    "William, I don''t think this is the time to play music!" said Kiyora.


    "No, it is a perfect time," said William.


    Then he began to play. A sad melody flowed through the streets as he ran his fingers over them with a master''s skill. It resounded throughout the surrounding area. All the possessed who heard it sank to their knees. They screamed in horror before suddenly collapsing. More came, and these, too, succumbed to the music.


    "That''s working? How?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''m channeling the power of Elranor through my music." said William. "It seems to be disrupting the spell."


    "Do you have to hurt them?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''m not hurting them," said William. "They are merely expressing the suffering Wraith is inflicting on them. I think. Now, come on, let''s get out of sight."


    Kiyora led them on over the unconscious bodies of the possessed. None of them moved, though some could be heard sobbing in a low voice. Kiyora felt sick. How had Wraith done all this? She knew how, but this wasn''t supposed to happen!


    William looked at it all like it was business, which disturbed Kiyora. What had he been doing all this time? She didn''t want to really know, so she didn''t ask. They got to the library and found it abandoned. Anyone who was once inside it had left in a hurry. Shelf after shelf of abandoned books was there, with no one to read them.


    "Are you sure this place is safe?" asked William.


    "Sure. This is a library. No one ever comes here," said Kiyora.


    "It is different from the other buildings," said William.


    "It''s made of brick and stone," said Kiyora. "See, it was originally built as a church to one of the lesser races'' gods. So it wasn''t appropriate for Actovosh to form it. He is a sacred tree, after all." Why was she so calm? She should be freaking out.


    "That would explain the bell tower," mused William, locking the doors. "Now, I need you to tell me what is happening?"


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    "Okay, you know how Laughing Wraith possessed a lot of malas and sold them to people to feed off them?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said William. "What of it?"


    "Well, he did the same thing here," said Kiyora. "Only in our case, he possessed a substance which the people trying to stop him spread to the entire city."


    "So, the entire city has been subverted?" said William.


    "I think so," said Kiyora.


    William looked contemplative. "This is not within my abilities to fix. And since you called me, it isn''t within your abilities either. We need help."


    "Right, right, okay," said Kiyora, thinking. "Um, we can see Escalus at the Department of Spiritual Defense. Maybe she escaped it."


    Someone smashed against the window, cracking it. Kiyora leaped back as William drew his sword. People were crowding at the door. Fists were breaking through the windows and scrambling for the door handle.


    William drew back his sword to cut off one of the hands, but Kiyora caught his wrist. "We can''t kill them! Now come on!"


    They fled as the door burst open behind them. The possessed streamed through, chanting as always. They fled up a flight of stairs as more came in through some side entrances. William looked to where the possessed were scaling the stairs after him. Breaking free of Kiyora''s grip, he drew up his harp and began to play as they scaled up after him.


    The music played again, and the creatures let out a screech. Yet this time, they didn''t give up. Something in the air forced them to keep walking forward, even as they screamed. When one fell into unconsciousness, the others stepped over their body. Dozens were failing because of the music every second. Yet slowly, the possessed were climbing over the bodies of the fallen toward them.


    "Kiyora," said William, "find a window! Now!"


    Kiyora nodded and turned. No windows within reach here. But a back door led out onto a terrace with stairs. But even as she went to open it, she saw the possessed coming in through the terrace. Very soon, they would be surrounded.


    Wiliam was giving ground. The shadows grew longer around them, taking the shape of claws, and seemed to reach out. And Kiyora thought she heard the sound of laughter.


    "There isn''t any other way out!" said Kiyora before looking upwards in desperation. "Wait, wait, the bell tower! This was a church! We can get out using the belltower!"


    "Where are the stairs?" asked William.


    "They''re, um..." Kiyora paused. "There aren''t any. We''re screwed."


    "You are a god!" roared William. "Can''t you use some of your godpowers to get us out of here?!"


    "I''m not a god here!" said Kiyora. "That''s just in my dreams. Here I''m just your everyday average high school girl!"


    "Then why the hell am I here?!" snapped William.


    Oh, right, William''s presence indicated that she could use her powers here. She closed her eyes. Okay, okay, she was the Dreaming Goddess. She had the power. She could do this. She looked deep within herself and saw only a fantasy. She tried to grasp it, but it slipped through her fingers whenever she reached out.


    Well, so much for that idea.


    She opened her eyes and saw the possessed closing in around her. They were falling too slowly, and he was laughing. This was it.


    "Don''t give up!" cried a voice. "You have the power to stop this. You always did."


    Kiyora didn''t know why, but the words she heard filled her with strength. Suddenly, she felt her dreams and fantasies flowing up over her. A warmth grew in her heart as she saw a glow emerge from her hands. The possessed were mere feet away, and one grasped her hair.


    No.


    Kiyora felt her power. She needed only to unleash it.


    Blue energy flowed from her, sweeping over the crowds of possessed. There was a terrible scream of rage, and then the possessed collapsed around her. All of them fell to the ground, looks of relief on their faces. Kiyora was standing where she was, suddenly very tired. Her legs hurt, and she fell forward.


    William caught her.


    "Kiyora," he said, "are you alright?"


    "Yes," said Kiyora, standing up.


    She realized how close she and William were standing. He also admitted it because they separated and turned away at the last minute. The unconscious forms of hundreds surrounded them.


    "So, where is this Escalus?" asked William.


    "I don''t know," admitted Kiyora. "I guess we could head to the school and retrace my steps. But I wasn''t paying attention to the directions the truck took."


    "Very well, we''ll make a new plan of action," said William.


    Dead silence. Kiyora looked at William expectantly. "Well?"


    "I''m trying to think of something," admitted William. "Let me see; Laughing Wraith is controlling the entire city. That means he has to have a place where his will is fully focused. A place that gives all the directions. The effects should stop if we can find and destroy that place."


    "Should?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''m guessing somewhat," William said. "When I use the powers Elranor granted me, I have to focus it through something, whether it is my harp or my hands. What I am focusing on determines a lot of things. But I have no idea where that might be."


    Kiyora remembered her conversation with Laurus. "I have a hunch that might find us it."


    "Yes?" asked William as he followed.


    "I think, and I could be wrong, he might have focused his power on a pharmaceutical plant," said Kiyora.


    "What is a pharmaceutical plant?" asked William.


    "A place where drugs are made. Not bad drugs, good drugs. Or they were before Laughing Wraith corrupted them." said Kiyora.


    "Perhaps," said William. "However, it could also be a person."


    "You mean Laurus," guessed Kiyora.


    "I saw him, Kiyora," said William. "Or someone identical to me. He is working for him."


    "That doesn''t make sense, though," said Kiyora. "He gave me all kinds of information on Wraith. If he hadn''t told me about all this, I would never have figured it out alone."


    "Wraith possesses many people," said William. "Laurus may be possessed as well."


    "Right, that must be it," said Kiyora. "Now, how do we find out where this plant is?"


    "Well, we are in a library," noted William. "Are there any records in this place?"


    "Now that is crazy talk," said Kiyora. "I''m going to consult the tree spirit."


    "Tree spirit? You mean that Actovosh thing you mentioned?" asked William, raising an eyebrow.


    "See, um, this whole city is built around a giant tree, Actavosh," said Kiyora. "The city was named after it. By communing with the tree, we can come into contact with the thoughts and desires of many other people. We can also leave messages and stuff like that. There is a whole system for finding directions."


    "What if Laughing Wraith has possessed that as well?" asked William.


    "It doesn''t matter," said Kiyora. "You can remain anonymous while using it, so it''s fine." She sat down and closed her eyes. Then, she focused on gaining the information she needed. She looked into Actovosh, who looked back into her. Soon, the information presented itself. She opened her eyes and stood. "Okay, I''ve got the directions. It''s called Iron''s Pharmaceuticals. We''d better get going."


    "We should find a way to get there without being seen," said William.


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora. "Let''s get out of here first, though."


    They took a long time picking their way past the unconscious bodies. They were lying everywhere for nearly a mile. By the time they got beyond them, it looked like they had knocked out a dozen neighborhoods. Kiyora hoped no one had died. William was right; they had to do something to avoid this.


    As they made their way onto the street, Kiyora realized how much her foot hurt. She hadn''t noticed it until now because she was in such a rush, but now that she had a moment, she was. Her feet ached like hell, and the socks she had been wearing were torn to shreds.


    Oh, and her parents had tried to strangle her.


    Everything was happening so quickly, and she didn''t know how to react to it all. She needed to avoid any more confrontations like that. Sooner or later, someone was going to get killed. Then she saw a manhole cover in the pavement. An idea occurred to her. It was a very unpleasant one, but it would probably work.


    "Actovosh," she said, opening her mind, "could you open that for us? And once you do that, could you lead us to Iron''s Pharmaceuticals?"


    There was no verbal response, but roots suddenly shoved aside the manhole cover. Kiyora walked over and began to climb down, followed by William. Then she covered her nose at the smell. The ceiling was low, and the air was putrid.


    "What is this place?" asked William.


    "The sewers," sad Kiyora. "Actovosh, give us some light, will you?"


    Sparkles emerged from the roots on the wall, illuminating a path. They followed it, trying to ignore the stench and being careful not to step in anything as they did so.


    "Are you certain this tree knows the way?" asked William.


    "Sure, Actovosh listens to everything we say," said Kiyora. "He knows this city better than anyone." She wanted to throw up. "Hey, William."


    "Yes?" asked William.


    How could she say what she needed to? "Do you think we can destroy Laughing Wraith''s power, even if we find it?" asked Kiyora. That wasn''t it at all.


    "I don''t know," admitted William. "If I were him, however, I would concentrate all the best fighting men of the city around it. If he approaches this rationally, we''ll have serious problems before the end."


    "Maybe we should contact the Ascendence," mused Kiyora. "It''s a tree ship hovering above us. They could help us."


    "What manner of ship hovers?" asked William.


    "I... well, tree ships. See, we have this special kind of tree which courses with magic," said Kiyora. "And we build ships around them that can channel their power to destroy our enemies. They came here specifically to kill Laughing Wraith."


    "If I were Laughing Wraith, my first move would be to destroy them then," said William.


    "Could he do that, do you think?" asked Kiyora.


    "It depends on whether or not he has corrupted the cities'' defenses. If they can destroy such a vessel, he could," mused William. "Has he?"


    "I don''t know," admitted Kiyora.


    Suddenly, the illumination stopped. They halted there for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. Then, there was a grinding noise from the ceiling. The wood gave way, and many vines and roots grew downwards to form a ladder.


    "That''s weird." mused Kiyora. "We haven''t been walking for that long. Why would Actovosh want us to head upwards?"


    "I don''t know," said William. "However, I will be glad to be out of the filth. I''ll climb up and call for you when it is clear." He drew his sword. Then, he scaled swiftly up the ladder and disappeared.


    "You can come up," William called. "We''re safe."


    "Already on it," said Kiyora.


    "He is laughing..." murmured a distant voice. "He is laughing..." So that was why Actovosh had ordered them to move.


    Kiyora scrambled up, pulled herself up, and found that William had already created a light. No sooner had Kiyora''s legs cleared the entrance, and it closed behind her, shutting them in. Looking around, Kiyora saw that they appeared to be standing in a cellar. There were all kinds of canned foods left around them. Kiyora only then realized how hungry she was.


    She tried to distract herself and turned her attention to the stairs. They led up to a heavy door of living wood. As they approached, it seemed to come to life.


    The door opened, and what they found within looked like some kind of armory. Racks upon racks of weapons could be seen. There were no doors or windows to the outside in either direction. What Kiyora did see were shoes. Quickly stripping off her ruined socks, she got into the boots.


    "This appears to be some manner of safehouse," mused William. "Did you know of such places?"


    "No," admitted Kiyora. "But I know I''ll never take shoes for granted again."


    Or not being chased by possessed people.

 Chapter Twelve: Manifestation

    There were other kinds of weapons and equipment in the safe house. Kiyora found scimitars on the walls and buckled one on with some help from William. As she did so, it dawned on her how hungry she was. Her stomach was aching like an empty void was inside it. When was the last time she ate anything?


    "You want to see if we can find something to eat here?" asked Kiyora.


    "It is worth a search," said William.


    The search took a few minutes. After some time, Kiyora found several months'' worth of emergency rations. They were in some metal crates in the cellar and open. She gladly helped herself, tearing one open and beginning too much.


    Emergency rations had never tasted so good.


    Then again, Kiyora had never really eaten emergency rations before. Neither had she been chased around by possessed elves. Or had she ever been rescued by a knight in shining armor? Not in real life, anyway.


    But then the dreams were looking more real by the minute.


    Now, if only William would say something. Instead, he was just sitting cross-legged there, playing his harp. He looked dashing. Kiyora shook her head as she felt a blush creep to her features. Why was she thinking like this?


    She would outlive him by centuries anyway, although reincarnation was a thing. Who had William been in his past lives?


    "Hey," she said, "isn''t that chainmail heavy?"


    "Yes," said William. "However, I''d much rather have the protection. Rusara enchanted it to ward off more force than ordinary chainmail."


    Silence again.


    "It''s a long way to Iron''s Pharmaceuticals, isn''t it?" asked Kiyora.


    "Possibly," said William, "however, we do not know where it is."


    "Oh, right," said Kiyora. "Do you want some emergency rations?" She offered him a bar.


    "I''m not hungry," said William. "I don''t feel tired at all. I just hope Raynald and the others are alright."


    "Don''t worry," said Kiyora, "I find that time in this world doesn''t match up with time in the dream world, y''know. Or, I thought it was a dream world."


    She finished her emergency supplies. Then she filled her pockets with several more and stood. "Well, we should probably keep moving. Actavosh, where to next?"


    There was a low vibrating, and then the wall pulled aside to reveal a passage. It wasn''t complete, but the wood was shifting before her eyes. Kiyora could feel Actavosh suffering in the air. Even the youngest trees had trouble moving themselves like this.


    But she got the idea. It presented itself to her in her head. Turning to William, she tried to put it into words. "Actavosh is making us a passage that will lead us straight to Iron''s Pharmaceuticals. It... it is hurting him, but he''s doing it."


    "Then we shouldn''t waste his efforts," said William. He clearly did not understand things. "I''ll go in front."


    They began to make their way down the passage. It was continually shifting and turning and heading steadily lower. It would have been a maze if there had been more than one path. Yet William walked forward carefully.


    Kiyora hated the feeling of the scimitar at her side. It was heavy and kept getting in the way. Also, she needed to learn how to use it. "Um," said Kiyora, "how do I use the scimitar?"


    "It wouldn''t do me any good to explain it if you don''t already know," said William. "Frankly, I would have much rather given you an axe. Those are fairly easy to use."


    "Or a bow," said Kiyora.


    William looked at her as though she''d grown two heads. "What do you mean?"


    "Well, I guess I''d have to practice shooting, but a bow doesn''t require a lot of strength, right?" said Kiyora. "So, it''s better for a weak person."


    "You have never used a bow," said William. "A bow which a weak person could use would also be fragile and next to useless in battle. The best bows are complicated to pull back, so launch a faster arrow.


    "Like Dust Elven bows."


    "So, do you know how to shoot one?" asked Kiyora.


    "No," said William. "I''ve been trained, but I''m awful at it. I have never hit a target in my life, in battle or practice. After I accidentally broke one of Rusara''s bows, she stopped trying to teach me."


    "How did that happen?" asked Kiyora.


    "I pulled it back, and it snapped," said William. "I''m a lot stronger than the average person my age. It has something to do with my heritage."


    "Ah right," said Kiyora. "Your mother is an Amazon, right?"


    "She''s the daughter of a Queen of the land of Themious," said William. "The males there are very unimpressive. They do what satyrs refer to as ''woman''s work.'' That''s all I know. She never talks to me about anything except to assure me that I have some grand destiny. I generally pretend Themious doesn''t exist."


    "Aren''t you curious, though?" asked Kiyora.


    "Not really," admitted William. "Not curious enough to press Mother to talk about something she isn''t ready to talk to me about anyway. I''m sure she''ll tell me when the time is right. What about you?"


    "Hmm?" said Kiyora.


    "Who is your family?" asked William. "You''ve asked me many questions, but I don''t know anything about your life here in this realm of gods."


    "It''s not a realm of gods." laughed Kiyora. "Or at least I don''t think it is. Well, my dad is a famous painter. He paints pictures of other worlds. They''re great. I can show you them sometime. My Mother, um, she tells me I''m a Princess.


    "She kind of cut her ties with her family."


    "Why would she do such a thing?" asked William, horrified.


    "They wanted to force her into an arranged marriage, I think," said Kiyora.


    "And what is the problem with that?" asked William.


    "I guess she didn''t love the person she was supposed to marry," said Kiyora.


    "I don''t see your point," said William.


    "Um, well, it would be wrong for someone to marry someone they don''t like, wouldn''t it?" asked Kiyora.


    "No," said William. "That''s how marriage for nobles works. Sons and daughters are married for the benefit of the family. They must abide by those rules."


    "Didn''t your dad make a deal with Melchious because he didn''t want to marry someone he didn''t like?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said William. "But it was a mistake."


    "A mistake that you owe your existence to," noted Kiyora.


    "Hardly," said William. "He could have refused dealings with Melchious and still met and fallen in love with my mother."


    "He was already engaged when he met your mom?" asked Kiyora. "Wasn''t he?"


    "That''s different," said William.


    "How?" asked Kiyora.


    "My father broke off an engagement to the daughter of a powerful Lord to marry a Princess," said William. "It was an upgrade."


    Kiyora looked at him seriously. "Do you honestly think of things like that?"


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    "I must," said William. "Love is a secondary factor in marriage. At least to nobles."


    It only then dawned on Kiyora that William did not think like she did. She liked him, and he was a nice guy. But to him, a village getting burned down could be okay if it was his enemy. He lived in a world of obligations and blood and glory.


    "Hey, William," said Kiyora, "do you like adventures?"


    "No," admitted William. "Not during them. But I enjoy telling people about them later. And I like winning glory for my family. And even if I didn''t like them, I''d still be obliged to seek them out."


    Their conversation died out as they began to hear the distant echoes of explosions. Kiyora listened carefully and could hear chanting. "What is going on out there?"


    "I don''t know," said William, "however, the path is beginning to climb. So we are heading for the surface."


    As they walked, Kiyora gradually began to feel a vague ache in her head. It was a presence whispering to her in her mind. There was a voice telling her that she was in danger. Was she in danger? No, there was no one here but William. Was he the danger?


    No, that was just stupid. William would never do anything to hurt her.


    How did she know that? He came from a bloody and terrible world. Was he here to help her? Or was he merely biding his time to strike? It was insane to think that, but wait. William''s body was tensing; his hand gripped his sword as if to use it.


    She had to stab him! Stab him before he killed her!


    "No," said Kiyora.


    It was fascinating to look at. It was like Kiyora was looking at herself from the outside, except she was still inside. Kiyora felt like her body was only an extension of a far greater whole. Looking at herself, she saw the energies of Laughing Wraith. They were trying to drive her into insanity.


    But she wasn''t just Kiyora Yagos, a scared schoolgirl. If Laughing Wraith was real, then the Dreaming Goddess was also real. And that thought scared Wraith; Kiyora could sense his fear now. He was terrified of facing her. Afraid of what might happen in a second confrontation.


    Even now, he realized his efforts to affect her were in vain. So he turned his mind to William, who turned to face her with a look of fury. But the Dreaming Goddess raised a hand, and the hatred faded from his eyes.


    "Ugh..." said William, putting a hand on his forehead. "I... my head hurts so much..."


    "Wraith was playing games as always," said Kiyora. "Don''t worry; he can''t affect you anymore. Not while I''m here. Now come on, we''re nearly there."


    Soon, they came to a dead end. But as soon as they neared it, the wall opened, and they found themselves in a concrete hallway. The sound of the explosions was nearer now. Kiyora walked quickly to the head, followed by William.


    "What is all that noise?" asked William.


    "The military has gotten involved," said Kiyora. "The possessed military units have begun trading fire with the treeship Ascendance. Of course, they''ll drive it off, but it should keep them distracted while we make it to the center.


    "We''re going left here."


    "How do you know the way?" asked William.


    "Let''s just say I''ve achieved enlightenment," said Kiyora. "Here is the elevator."


    Pressing the button, they waited until the doors opened and entered. Waiting within, William eyed her with a certain suspicion. "Kiyora, Actovosh isn''t guiding us anymore, is he?"


    "Actovosh is an ancient tree," said Kiyora. "Moving suddenly hurts him and takes a lot of energy. He doesn''t do it except in emergencies."


    "But I thought you said he used his roots to create the foundations of houses," said William.


    "Yes, but he forms them over months, not minutes," said Kiyora. "He''s in a lot of pain right now and won''t be able to help us. Don''t worry; I can handle Wraith. Just like before."


    The elevator doors opened to reveal Laurus. He looked awful. His hair had turned white, his eyes were bloodshot, and his skin was pale. And he was also holding a military-grade shotgun.


    "So I was thinking," said Laurus. "How could I possibly kill a being whose very existence is antithetical to my own? And then I had this brilliant idea: I''d just shoot her."


    "Laurus," said Kiyora, "what is going on? Why are you helping Wraith?!"


    "Sorry, I''d love nothing more than to chat," said Laurus. "But I''ve got small animals to torture, puppies to kick. Y''know, generic doomsday villain things."


    He was hesitating. But if Kiyora made a move, she would probably set him off. "Listen to me, Laurus. Put the gun down. You don''t need to go this."


    "Don''t need?" asked Laurus, eyes filled with horror. "Who says I don''t want to do this?"


    "I know you," said Kiyora. "You are my friend. Wraith has been getting into your head and-"


    Then she was shoved to the side, and Kiyora hit the elevator wall. William''s sword was out and spinning toward Laurus. The boy ducked too late, and it gouged a deep gash in his shoulder. Screaming in pain, Laurus fired a shot blindly.


    It went wide, and then William was on him. His hands wrapped around Laurus'' neck, slamming him against the floor. Laurus choked and gagged.


    "William, don''t kill him!" screamed Kiyora. "It isn''t his fault!"


    William hesitated. Then Laurus let out an inelven screech and struck William across the scar. The wound began to bleed, and another blow threw William off him. William grabbed his sword and rushed at Laurus, but Laurus had already gotten his gun.


    He fired twice, and William was thrown back, covered in shrapnel and bleeding. Was he dead? He couldn''t be dead!


    Laurus stood up, looked at William, then at his hands, then screamed and ran sobbing through a far hall. Kiyora ran to William. "Come on; you can''t be dead! You can''t be!"


    William''s chainmail was shredded. His chest was a bloody mess, and he was gasping for air. One of his eyes had been destroyed. He wasn''t breathing. Kiyora put her hands on him. She could sense he was still alive, but he wouldn''t be for very long.


    She was the Dreaming Goddess. She could save him!


    Reaching into him, she sent her power through him. She couldn''t heal him, but maybe he could heal himself if she could wake him up. She poured herself into bringing him back into the waking world, and his one good eye slowly opened.


    William awoke, screaming. He screamed as the shrapnel came out of the wounds, which closed behind the shards. His eye mended itself as all the rest of his injuries closed. He gasped for air, pulling off his shattered chainmail and getting unsteadily to his feet.


    "What were you thinking, you idiot!" screamed Kiyora. "He had a gun, and you decided to go after him with a sword!"


    "He was threatening you," said William.


    "What if you had died?!" said Kiyora. "How could I have explained it to your friends and family?! ''Sorry, I dragged your only son into my world to fix my problems, and he got himself killed!''"


    "And what if you had killed Laurus? What would I have told my friends and his family?"


    William tried to force himself to stand but fell. "We have no time for this. Where is Laurus?"


    "I''ll take care of Laurus," said Kiyora. "You are going to stay here and recover. You just healed about a thousand lethal wounds."


    "I need-" he began.


    Kiyora hugged him. "I am talking to you as a goddess. Not a friend. I don''t need you for this. Now lie there and recover." She broke the embrace, and they looked at each other for a long moment. Then, finally, Kiyora turned to walk toward Wraith and Laurus.


    She found the door ajar and beyond was utter darkness. Whatever had once been in this room now, there was only an infinite void. The sound of screaming could be heard within it, reechoing repeatedly. Among them were William''s screams. And her own.


    Kiyora realized she was listening to every victim Laughing Wraith had ever targeted. She felt a knot in her stomach as she made her way forward. Who was she to stop this thing? Sure, she was a goddess, but Wraith was also a god. No, no, she could do this. She knew she could do this.


    But what if she couldn''t?


    Then she saw Laurus. He was standing in the void, holding a pistol, just looking at it. His injury had healed, but his clothes were still ripped. He seemed almost skeletal as she approached. He raised his gun.


    "Stay back!" said Laurus.


    "Laurus, this isn''t you," said Kiyora, keeping her eyes on his face.


    "Laurus? Laurus? That''s what you call me, isn''t it?" said Laurus, voice broken. "I... I can feel him in my head. I''ve always felt him there, but he''s stronger now. I... I can''t speak what he is saying to me, but I''ll try to translate." His eyes suddenly flickered black.


    "What are you?" asked Kiyora.


    "He is the shadow which every child looked at and thought hid a monster. He is the fear which grips the heart of every creature afraid to go out at night," said Laurus. His eyes gained a semblance of vanity. "Thirty years ago... when I was eight... he... he stalked the world. But the DSD... they managed to shut him out.


    "Out of everyone. But he... he found me and put part of himself into me. That part slept... even though I didn''t know about it. Then... then I started to have nightmares. I... I became something, something cruel every night. I did things, terrible things.


    "Then you banished him from the dream world. He had nowhere to go but back into me. He... he used my mind, my knowledge, to make a plan. You see... he... he doesn''t think like us. He hates reasoning like he hates everything. But he wanted to win. So he used my mind to... to corrupt the medicine. He put a little piece of himself into the vats.


    "It hurts... it hurts so much.''


    "Laurus, you have to believe me," said Kiyora as she approached. "This will be okay."


    "I can''t get him out of my head!" said Laurus. "I can''t! He''s always there! Whispering." Then suddenly, he moved his gun upwards, putting it against his throat.


    Kiyora surged forward and knocked his hand away even as he fired. The shot went wide. Then Kiyora hugged him, channeling her full will into him. "And so am I. Get out of my friend, you monster!"


    Her will meet Wraith''s malice, and she saw visions of endless victims tormented and ruined. She saw images of untold horrors perpetuated across hundreds of worlds. She could hardly bear it. What was she to such atrocities?


    Laughing Wraith was a being beyond the comprehension of mortals and immortals alike. Merely being in contact with him pained Kiyora more than anything she had ever felt. She wanted to pull back. Maybe William was right. Perhaps the only solution was to kill...


    No. She thought of her family and how sad they would be if she died. She thought about her friends. How would they react when they discovered what had happened to Laurus. She thought of Laurus'' family and people she''d never met who would be worse off if he was dead. And she realized that she could not afford to let this happen.


    "He... he is Laughing..." muttered Laurus incoherently.


    "You are nothing!" roared Kiyora. "Nothing but formless cruelty and sadism! You love nothing. Value nothing! You care about nothing! You pretend like you''re this transcendent being, but you''re not! You''re no better than a schoolyard bully picking the wings off sparrows!"


    Laughing Wraith recoiled, more hurt by her than he had ever hurt anyone. He was screaming and screaming as the light around Kiyora grew ever brighter. In desperation, the monster gripped Laurus around the throat.


    "If you banish him, I''ll die," said Laurus. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It was a transparent lie. "He can''t hurt you anymore," said Kiyora. "I won''t let him hurt anyone ever again. Now get out of my friend! GET OUT OF MY WORLD!!"


    There was an unholy shriek of absolute agony. The light flared outwards beyond the room, beyond the building, brighter and brighter. Soon, it reached across the whole of the city. Kiyora could see everything: every street, tree, and person. As one, people were roused from their pains and pulled out of the nightmare.


    They found themselves in places they had not expected to wake up. But they were alive. Years from now, this would be nothing more than a bad memory.


    The vision ended.


    Laurus slumped against her shoulder. His hair had returned to normal, along with his skin. He gasped, and Kiyora slowly put him down. She felt very lightheaded. She fell to her knees and then fell forward into another dream.

 Chapter Thirteen: Waking

    If it was a dream, it was a strange one. Usually, when Kiyora dreamed, she saw all kinds of exciting things. This time, though, she felt at peace. She was lying in a field of flowers; they weren''t the flesh-eating kind she''d seen either. Just regular, ordinary flowers.


    The aches and pains from constant running were gone. So was her sense of divine supremacy. Standing in this place, she felt she was as real or fake as anyone else. It was hard to describe.


    "You''ve done well, Kiyora," said a voice. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Kiyora turned and saw her. She was as beautiful as the descriptions of her indicated. More beautiful. Her hair was as golden and bright as the sun, yet it did not hurt the eyes. Her eyes were as blue as the brightest oceans, and she wore shining white garments.


    "Alchara?" asked Kiyora. "What is going on?"


    "You have exceeded my expectations," said Alchara. "Laughing Wraith''s hold over this world is now broken, wholly and completely. Yet your task is not yet done."


    "What do you mean?!" asked Kiyora. "This is the second time I''ve had to kill him!"


    "Things have a way of getting resolved the third time around," said Alchara. "This will not be easy. His efforts in this world were, in their way, a success. The horror and fear he has inspired in those he possessed have made him strong.


    "Now he has broken the seal on the god Typhos."


    Kiyora blinked. "Who?"


    "Typhos," said Alchara. "The goddess of monsters whose temple the paladin repurposed for your worship."


    "Oh right, him," said Kiyora.


    "Her," said Alchara.


    "So, um, you want me to stop this Typhos person then?" guessed Kiyora.


    "Let us say I would prefer you to be present at the final confrontation," said Alchara. "Elranor will make his move soon, and I want you to be there to observe it."


    "Great," said Kiyora. "I thought we were almost done."


    Then Kiyora awoke. Or going to sleep, or whatever. She realized she should have post-traumatic stress disorder. Yet she wasn''t feeling it. She pulled herself up and found herself in the middle of a city. There were people all around her, but they were all sleeping. Some were writhing on the ground, and others had looks of absolute horror painted on their faces.


    The sky above them was black with unnatural darkness. It wasn''t like a cloud; you couldn''t imagine rain falling from those clouds. Or even acid. The very presence of the clouds hurt, and Kiyora averted her gaze. Yet that meant she had to look at the people suffering.


    William appeared, kneeling by her. "Kiyora, are you alright? Can you stand?"


    "Says the person who took two blasts of a shotgun to the face," muttered Kiyora as she stood. "What happened?"


    "You collapsed, and then I found myself here," said William.


    "Where is here?" asked Kiyora.


    William looked around. "This is Arsheen, and I think we''re in the Merchant district."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Kiyora.


    "Look there," said William, pointing to one of the unconscious people. "There is Vensus."


    "Okay," said Kiyora, "so what do we do now?"


    "Typhos'' energy escaped Wraith, but I think I know where it will go," said William. "To the Temple of Typhos. Your temple. Let''s move."


    Kiyora walked with him in something of a daze. She felt lightheaded as they stumbled on as if the air was too thin for her. Her head hurt. Looking at the people around her, she began to feel what they felt. Falling to one knee, she gasped as she saw horrible images.


    She wished she could help them, but she needed more power.


    "Kiyora, we have to keep moving," said William.


    "I can feel it," said Kiyora. "They are... they are having nightmares. Terrible nightmares, worse than anything you''ve ever felt."


    "Whatever they are feeling, it will stop once we kill Laughing Wraith," said William. "Now, come on, we have work to do. Can you teleport us there?"


    "I..." Kiyora hesitated. "No. No, I can''t. I''ve barely got any power left."


    They picked their way through crowds of unconscious people. Then, suddenly, there was a long howl. Up from the bodies of the people emerged shadows. They danced along the walls as glowing red eyes peered in on them. Then they lunged at them, coming off the walls with gaping jaws.


    Then they recoiled at the sound of music. William played his harp and kept walking. Kiyora could see a sort of shield appear around them, one of pure white light. The monsters reeled against it, tearing and snarling as they burned away. Yet, for every one that fell, more and more of them poured in.


    This was far from the worst thing she''d seen today. Kiyora wasn''t feeling up to getting scared. "Wow, that harp of yours comes in real handy. What are these things?"


    "Undead, I think," said William. "Rusara taught me of specters who some monsters can summon up. They ultimately belong to the Withering."


    "What the heck is the Withering?" asked Kiyora.


    "An impersonal manifestation of entropy," said William. "I think."


    Well, that made sense. Not. "...Meaning?" asked Kiyora.


    "You could call it the god of undeath," said William. "But it isn''t a god; it is more like an evil force that possesses various champions. Those champions wield their power for their ends and determine its policies. Then it consumes them."


    "So what are they doing here?" asked Kiyora.


    "Laughing Wraith might be one of the Withering''s manifestations," said William. "It would explain a great deal. Or perhaps Wraith made a deal with the Withering for further power. I suspect he is getting desperate at this point."


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    "Not really," muttered Kiyora. "We shouldn''t be talking like this. We''ve got to move faster."


    William gave her a look of irritation. "Do you know how hard it is to do this while walking? Playing the harp takes concentration and skill. If I run, I''ll make a mistake. Can''t you use your magic like before?"


    "No, I''m saving all I''ve got for Wraith," said Kiyora. "Damn it; he sent us these things to slow us down!"


    "Quite possibly," mused William.


    And then, down from the rooftops bounded a golden blur. It roared with the voice of a goat, a lion, and a dragon. The wraiths scattered and retreated before it. Massacre had come, and she was glowing with a green light.


    "Bah," said Massacre, turning her back to them and lying down.


    "Massacre?" asked William. "How did you get here?"


    "I don''t know, but she wants us to ride her," said Kiyora.


    William hesitated as the wraiths began to return in ever greater force. A great wave of shadow was approaching them from behind. The street was shrouded in darkness. Quickly, William put away his harp and leaped onto Massacre''s back. Kiyora did the same, and Massacre was off like a lightning bolt.


    She scaled up the wall of a building and was soon leaping across one rooftop after another. The air was flowing through Kiyora''s hair, and despite the darkness, she found it excellent. This was so cool. "Wow, Massacre can run fast, can''t she?"


    William didn''t answer.


    "William?" asked Kiyora.


    William was clinging to Massacre''s back. The boy was shaking visibly as the chimera leaped from rooftop to rooftop. "I''m trying not to fall to my death."


    "Wimp," said Kiyora. "I hope Brinsiege and the others are alright. Do you think they were there when Wraith got there?"


    "I don''t know," admitted William. "I can''t tell what time of day it is. But I doubt anyone is alright here."


    Massacre soon passed into the temple district. She scaled over the domed roofs and leaped from steeple to steeple. Finally, they saw the Temple of the Dreaming Goddess coming up. Massacre leaped down into the courtyard. William dismounted, drawing his sword as Kiyora followed.


    Together, they rushed up the steps. It was funny. Although Kiyora knew she should feel worried or afraid, she wasn''t. The hundreds of people in the streets unconscious didn''t worry her. She felt like it was all just a passing thing. Within her temple, she saw her statue, true to form, pointing a sword at Typhos'' statue. The blade was shining with the colors of the rainbow.


    Laughing Wraith was standing in the shadow of Typhos'' statue. Yet his image was hazy and indistinct. He seemed to be struggling to stay where he was. He almost huddled up against the figure, which looked more alive than he did. Kiyora realized that she was not afraid of him anymore.


    But Wraith looked afraid. His form was shaking somehow. He''d lost twice to them now, and he was banking everything on Typhos. Yet Typhos remained silent.


    "So you have come," said Typhos. Her voice was a hollow thing that couldn''t really be described. It combined the hiss of a snake, the roar of a lion, and many other voices. "As I thought. Will we now engage one another in battle, Lord of Knights?"


    William''s eyes flashed with light. And then Kiyora realized she wasn''t looking at William at all. He seemed suddenly clothed in a pale light, and his hair and skin appeared white as snow. "I should avoid such unpleasant battles, Lady Typhos."


    "You... Elranor!" said Kiyora. "What are you doing! Where is William?"


    "Here," said Elranor. "I am merely speaking through him. Lady Typhos, I wish to cease hostilities between our faiths and reinstate you as a household god."


    Typhos loomed higher. "Speak, Elranor. What reason could I have to forgive you?"


    "I''m not asking you to," said Elranor. "When I took Zeya''s side against you, it was strictly impersonal. Her enemies were my enemies. Since that time, we have drifted apart. I see no good reason to subject my people to a bloody war without at least trying to prevent it."


    "And what terms do you offer?" asked Typhos.


    "My agents have already begun to restore your temple," said Elranor. "As you can see."


    "And placed another god in it," noted Typhos, turning her eyes to Kiyora.


    "That is to your advantage," said Elranor. "By having a god with an established market, you will attract more attention. This will allow you to grow your church. I am sure you could establish yourself as an influential figure in Seathorius. There has been something of a power vacuum there recently."


    "And what do you desire in return?" asked Typhos. "There is always an exchange in such arrangements."


    "Standing in your shadow is a monster, Typhos," said Elranor. "He has done great harm to many innocents. You must know his kind, surely."


    "It is true." mused Typhos. "However, he has been instrumental in my full restoration. Without him, I would have had to work for many more years to gain the power I do not."


    "I assure you," said Elranor, "Wraith loves nothing but the suffering he inflicts on others. It was not done out of any goodwill on his part. He merely desired to use you as an ally to cause further destruction and agony. He hoped you would have no choice but to turn to him and Baltoth for support against the God Triumvirate.


    "It did not enter his mind that we should seek a peaceful solution."


    "Would you have me slay him, then?" asked Typhos.


    "No," said Elranor. "Merely pass him into my hands for judgment. Aside from that, I only ask you not to pursue the old vendetta."


    Laughing Wraith looked terrified. His form was looking here and there as the light of Elranor pressed in steadily closer. Typhos looked down in contempt at Wraith, Kiyora, Elranor, and finally back to Wraith. "Very well, I accept your offer, Elranor."


    Elranor smiled. "Excellent."


    He raised a hand. There was a burst of white light, and Wraith screamed as it consumed him. His form became nothing more than a shadow in the morning. It stretched and twisted until nothing less of it destroyed it utterly. Finally, he was gone. Laughing Wraith was dead. Kiyora knew it.


    "Wait..." said Kiyora, "you just killed him? I thought gods weren''t allowed to do that!"


    "He had launched an attack on a city filled with the Temples of many gods," said Elranor. "He more or less declared war on all of us. The western gods despised him, and he was useless to Baltoth. We agreed to destroy him before I even came here."


    "But how?" asked Kiyora. "Do you have any idea how much trouble he gave us?!"


    "Kiyora, you are young, so I will forgive you for your ignorance," Elranor laughed. "I was old when the stars in the sky had not yet been formed. My power exists across innumerable worlds where I am worshipped under countless guises. Compared to the unbridled majesty of my hosts, the most terrible nightmare is but a passing fancy.


    "Besides, you wouldn''t have had much trouble destroying him. His plans were largely foiled. His power was spent on his atrocities, and he relied wholly on Typhos'' power to give him the edge over you. Terror is a passing thing and rarely lends itself to long-term gains. He would have fallen quickly."


    "But what about all the energy he got from inflicting all that suffering?" asked Kiyora.


    "Much of it was used to free Typhos," said Elranor. "You destroyed a great deal of the rest."


    "But this is so anticlimactic!" said Kiyora.


    "You seem to have mistaken Laughing Wraith for the true threat," said Elranor. "He wasn''t. This was but a distraction to draw our attention away from the river. And it worked. None of the soldiers in Arsheen will be in any shape to march to war." The light faded, and there were no more gods in the world.


    "William, you and Kiyora have only begun your journey." Elranor''s voice echoed. "Climb atop Massacre; he will lead you where you need to be.''


    "Just tell me where to go, and I''ll head there." said Kiyora, "I can teleport, you know."


    "Unfortunately, that is not possible," said Elranor. "Look to the sky."


    Kiyora and William turned around and saw the sky. Where once it had been a void now, the clouds were a fiery red. And they had formed into the shape of a tremendous clawed hand. There was a presence in those clouds. Kiyora felt that it was stronger than anything she had ever felt. She also felt like it was only the tip of the iceberg.


    "The claw of Baltoth is stretching out over Artarq. Even as we speak, his will is manifesting upon the land," said Elranor. "You will not be able to go anywhere directly. I will do what I can to speed up your progress, however.


    Go quickly. While there is still time."


    William shook his head. "That was strange. Very strange."


    Massacre had been waiting by the door and came forward to kneel. They climbed aboard her, and she turned to rush back through the city. Wherever they went, people were waking from the darkness, faces filled with horror. It was the look of people who had been having a terrible nightmare and had woken up in an unfamiliar place.


    Which, Kiyora supposed, was what had happened.

 Chapter Fourteen: The Hand of Baltoth

    They passed to the top of the walls, seeing soldiers staring vacantly into space. Massacre leaped from the walls and landed on the ground before rushing onwards. The farmlands seemed to pass by them like they were a freezing wind. They saw red light gleaming down from the sun ever stronger wherever they went.


    Baltoth was watching them. William could sense his presence and felt an absolute hatred for his enemy. It was like Elranor, but far more sinister. Elranor always seemed to be holding back out of courtesy not to scare people. The thing he felt in the air was powerful; it knew it and wanted other people to understand it.


    At the very least, it distracted me from how terrifying riding Massacre was. William feared falling off every moment and having his skull dashed on the ground. The wind on his way, the constant motion, made him feel sick.


    "I don''t get this," said Kiyora.


    "What do you mean?" asked William, glad for the distraction.


    "Well, I mean, first, I thought Laughing Wraith was the main threat," said Kiyora. "Then there is this Withering thing and Typhos, and now Baltoth. Who exactly is our primary enemy here?"


    "Baltoth for now," said William. "You can''t think this is a story with one key villain, can you? This is a war of shifting agendas. Laughing Wraith was given power by the Withering, which is probably how he kept coming back. He allied with Korasus to try to unleash Typhos, hoping to steal her power. Or perhaps he was intent on allying with her.


    "Korasus was counting on Wraith being able to cause chaos. Yet he hoped he would be defeated either by his Calishan masters or us. He and his men sacrificed their lives for the cause of unleashing Typhos to that end.


    "It is strange. It was almost heroic what Korasus did."


    "What do you mean?" asked Kiyora. "He was a drug-dealing scumbag."


    "He was loyal to his god and his goal to the end," said William. "I can admire him for that, even if I despise him as my enemy. Without him, we would have had twice as many soldiers as we do now and far better communications."


    Massacre was following a different path than they had taken. Far from it, she was rushing off the road to the northeast. The river of Savior''s Run was drawing nearer. As they rode onwards, William saw the border forts still under construction. They still needed to be finished.


    "What are those?" she asked.


    "Border forts," said William. "Father has been building them for some years. Once they have been finished, the Calishans will have a difficult time taking Artarq. And that is only if they get over the river."


    "Why are we here, anyway?" asked Kiyora.


    "I have my suspicions," said William.


    He was almost sure that Baltoth meant to launch an invasion. Elranor wanted him to learn of this directly. But why had he not merely told William if that were the case? He wasn''t sure, but he was sure Elranor knew what he was doing.


    Soon enough, they came into a hilly region. Massacre began to slow and stopped in front of two high hills. They got off, and William scratched her lion head behind the ears.


    "What is it, girl?" Kiyora asked.


    "She doesn''t want to go beyond this hill," said William. "Come on, let''s have a look." sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Right, Massacre, we''ll stay low," said Kiyora.


    They scaled quickly up the hill. It was very steep, and the ground had become rocky and harsh, and in the red light, it all looked very formidable. Several times, Kiyora and William slipped on the way up the hill, and William skinned his knee. He took a moment to heal it before they approached the hill''s edge and looked upon the river.


    There was a bridge being built across the river. It was already more than halfway across, and an army was on the other side. Thousands and thousands of men were grouped around many campfires. They rested in the shadow of a village on a stone-covered hill. Most were armed with spears and large shields and wore light armor. A banner flew high above the tallest house in the town.


    It was bright white, and on it was a black hand gripping the image of a sun in its talons. In the red light, it was very formidable.


    There was another banner below it. It was a blue banner with the symbol of a white eagle. Its wings were outstretched, and a sword was gripped in its beak.


    "As I suspected," said William, "the Calishans mean to cross here."


    "What do the banners mean?" asked Kiyora.


    "The white banner is the symbol of Baltoth," said William. "It means the authority of the Emperor himself operates them. The other is the symbol of King Banir."


    "Who is he?" asked Kiyora.


    "King Banir was once the King of Artarq. However, his nobles rebelled against him," said William. "They invited Antion to defend them from Calisha."


    "But I thought Baltoth was the King of Artarq," said Kiyora.


    "No, see, Baltoth is an Emperor and a God," said William. "To call him a King would be to demote him. A King of Calisha is more akin to a governor."


    "And now he''s trying to get his Kingdom back," mused Kiyora.


    "He tried once before," said William. "Calisha sent a fleet of ships to land at Desora. But Father caught them off-guard and drove them back into the sea. It was what made him famous."


    "So what do we do?" asked Kiyora.


    "Father needs to know about this," said William, sliding out of sight. "Kiyora, could you... um..."


    "What?" asked Kiyora.


    "Could you stir up the river spirits?" asked William. "If you could get them to slow down the construction of that bridge even a little, it could win this war for us."


    "Sure," said Kiyora. "But I don''t have the same hold over them; I do trees. So no promises."


    "Just stay out of sight," said William. "We don''t want the Calishans to know that we know they''re here."


    "Fine, I''ll hold a conversation with the river from all this way back," said Kiyora. Then she closed her eyes and began to speak. "Hey Patomi, it''s been a while. This is the Dreaming Goddess speaking. Could you slow down the construction of that bridge?


    "Hey, no need to get snippy, Patomi; do you know what kind of day I''ve had? I promise whatever you''ve been up to has paled in comparison.


    "Oh, wow, someone is building a bridge over your river. Try having your world invaded by a creature from your darkest nightmares! Alchara above, just stand up for yourself. You can''t let other people push you around like this!"


    "I''ve got to go," said William before turning to Massacre. "Come on, Massacre. Get me to Father."


    The ride to Father''s encampment was terrifying. Kiyora had had a calming effect on him, and her conversation had also helped. It was all he could do to cling to the chimera''s back. The wind on his face was horrible, and he kept imagining himself falling off and bashing his head on a rock.


    The wind flew through his hair, freezing him through his torn and ruined shirt. His sword bounced against his side. On and on it went, until finally, Massacre slowed.


    Father''s camp stood before them, and William rushed toward it. From the looks of things, they were already packing up. Tents were being unpitched as campfires were doused with water. Soldiers donned their armor and weapons.


    His approach caused a stir, and soon Rusara approached, rushing up to him. "William, what happened? What happened to your shirt? And your chainmail! That was difficult to enchant, young man!"


    "It was broken," said William. "Lady Rusara, when did you get here?"


    "I came here to inform Vanion of a crisis," said Rusara. "Then, the sun''s light shone red on us, and we realized we had another crisis. Baltoth is making his move."


    "I know," said William. "Take me to Father. I must speak with him at once."


    Rusara nodded and led him to where Father''s pavilion was being unpitched. Father was speaking with Reynald at the far end of the tent. His gloved hands clasped together as though in prayer, and his face was grim. He looked up and breathed out in relief. "William, where have you been? What happened?"


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    William explained as quickly as he could. Father listened without expression. "So, Korasus'' plan was a diversion. I suspected as much, so I reserved most of the army. No matter. Find my son new clothes and prepare to move out!


    "Lead on, son."


    William quickly got into new garments, a bright white tunic and an equally white cloak. He''d only just finished when he noticed Tanith watching him. How long had she been here? "Tanith, how long have you been there?"


    "Long enough," said Tanith before tossing him a canteen. "Word came in that you''d vanished in a flash of light and then returned on chimera. So what happened to your shirt?"


    "I got hit with some kind of strange weapon," said William. "See, the Dreaming Goddess drew me into her world and... never mind; there is no time. Come on."


    He walked up to Rusara, curious. "Rusara, what exactly were you telling my Father about?"


    "Laughing Wraith appeared in Arsheen. It was while visiting one of the outlying villages," said Rusara. "With the area sealed off, I went to Vanion. I see my presence was unnecessary."


    "Well, your fire will be of great help, I''m sure," said William.


    "One can only hope," mused Rusara. "It has been a long time since last I wielded magic in battle. A real battle, mind you, not a skirmish."


    "What about when satyrs attacked our ship?" asked William.


    "Had I used my full strength there, the ship we were on would have been reduced to charred sticks," said Rusara.


    "I just hope this isn''t too bloody," said William.


    Then, a hand was put on his shoulder. He looked up to see Raynald smiling down at him. "Oh, cheer up. This is great news, William. It could not be better!"


    "We''re being invaded," noted William.


    "Yes, and I''ve been waiting for this day for years," said Raynald. "Raiding commence lanes is all good, but wait until we get to a real battle."


    "He''s right, you know," said Tanith. "The scream of our enemies, the shedding of blood! You''ll do great!"


    "Well, I hope so," mused William. "I didn''t do particularly well last time."


    "I admit abandoning the battle to save a Calishan servant was not your high point," mused Raynald. "But what came after more than made up for it. This will be a glorious victory."


    "Or a crippling defeat, Raynald," said Rusara. "If we lose, the Calishans will have a straight shot to Arsheen. The people there are in no state to repel an invasion."


    ''Yes, yes, there are risks," said Tanith. "But the point is that we''ll be killing Calishans soon! The enemies of our faith! To kill them is the surest path to the Halls of Elranor!"


    "Tanith, that isn''t written anywhere in his scriptures," said William.


    "It is implicit," argued Tanith. "Elranor indicates we''re supposed to stand against injustice. The Calishan are serving an evil god and, therefore, are injustice incarnate.


    "So killing them is standing against injustice and, therefore, the path to heaven."


    "Not by my reading," said William before glancing up to where Felix was approaching. "Where have you been, anyway?"


    "Running errands for the Duke, or I would have greeted you," said Felix. "I just got back."


    The army was soon arrayed, and William led them alongside Massacre. Father, it took much longer to get back than it had to. Whatever power Elranor had used before did not speed the army. The forces of Harlenor marched across the land at what seemed a maddeningly slow pace.


    The will of Baltoth was against them. With every step they made, William felt the next one getting harder. Why were they pressing on? This was hopeless. The red sunlight shone down upon them ever hotter, and mutters of unease were among the men. They knew how futile it was.


    "William," said Felix, "may I ask what we are doing here?"


    William looked at him. "What do you mean?"


    "We have only a fraction of our maximum forces," said Felix. "Yet your father is having us go to confront an entire army of Calishans."


    "Father knows what he is doing," said William. "He has beaten King Banir before."


    "Banir may not make the same mistake twice," mused Felix.


    "I don''t think we will fight them directly," said William. "Just delay them while reinforcements can be mustered. Father sent runners to Arsheen, after all." Then he halted. "Oh no, Mother."


    "What of her?" asked Felix.


    "She is pregnant," said William. "Could Wraith''s powers have hurt her?"


    "I don''t know," said Felix. "It is possible."


    A sense of despair began to spread with these words. Could they hope to confront this Calishan army? Could they halt it long enough for reinforcements to arrive? William began to doubt it. The men were starting to break formation. Raynald shouted orders, and they reluctantly returned to their places. Yet they were slowing.


    It seemed as though the army might fall apart at any moment. Then, there was a clash of sorts just beneath the surface. It was a straining of wills, and the despair was washed away. Elranor was at work.


    The sun was sinking into the horizon when they reached the hills. William saw Kiyora sitting on the hill. He looked to Father. "Here we are. The Calishans are crossing just beyond those hills. Or they were."


    "We''ll go up and have a look," said Father. "Speak with the Dreaming Goddess."


    Kiyora made her way down the hill to meet him. "Hey, Will."


    "My name is William," said William automatically. "Were you able to stop the bridge from being built?"


    "Nope," said Kiyora.


    "You might at least look concerned," said William in irritation.


    He made his way up and lay next to his Father. Looking over the hill, he saw the bridge complete. Even as they watched, the Calishans had begun to move across. Yet their progress could have been faster.


    "Sloppy," said Father. "They should have been ready to move when the bridge was finished. An army is never more vulnerable than when crossing a river."


    "Vanion, give the order, and I''ll block them at the chokepoint," said Raynald.


    "No," said Father. "We may not have to. If memory serves, there is a village a little upriver from here. They have many boats there." He looked to Rusara. "If Massacre allows you to ride her, you might take a boat, row upriver, and destroy that bridge where it stands."


    "We''ll only be able to do it once," mused Raynald.


    "Not necessarily," said Father. "Felix, by you''re the best at estimation, how many would you say that is?"


    "By my guess, I should say ten thousand, perhaps twelve," said Felix.


    "We only have four thousand here," said Rusara.


    "We can''t defeat the entire army then," said Father. "Yet we might defeat part of it. Rusara, take Massacre and do your plan. But I want you to wait until I give the signal of a flaming arrow. Then you destroy it."


    "What will I be waiting for?" asked Rusara.


    "I want a third of the enemy army over on this side," said Father. "Raynald, prepare the men. When the bridge goes up, we''ll attack the army on this side of the river."


    "Good," said Raynald. "We''ll spill blood today."


    "Come, William, I''ll need you to convince Massacre to help me," said Rusara.


    They found Massacre sleeping again. The chimera looked up in irritation, tail swishing as they approached. She gave William a look, which told him she knew what he would ask and wasn''t happy about it.


    "Massacre, I must ask you a favor," said William. "Could you carry us to a nearby village? She''ll guide you."


    "Bah," said Massacre in irritation.


    "I''ll play music extra long for you tonight," promised William.


    "Bah," said Massacre doubtfully, but she got ready.


    "You intend to come too?" asked Rusara as she mounted.


    "I won''t be much use in a melee without any armor," said William, mounting behind her. "But, I could be an extra set of oars."


    "Fair enough," said Rusara. "Onwards, Massacre, I shall direct you." And they were off.

 Chapter Fifteen: The Broken Bridge

    The village turned out to be small, built on a hill. There were houses made of stone with grass roofs and little signs of luxury. There were also boats moored at piers built on the river. William looked across it and saw distantly the Calishan villages. There in the distance, he saw the city of Cowcal, which had been founded long ago. It had been after Ruscow''s victory over Valranor, and it had been named for the herdsman who dwelled here. A formidable, walled outpost, the banners of the Calishans were arrayed beyond it. You could see them distantly, preparing to march out. Many were already along the roads. Cowcal had long been the base of operations from which sieges of Artarq were carried out.


    Several times in history, it was destroyed and rebuilt later. This one was, William thought, the third city of Cowcal. It was named as it had been with new colonists to replace those killed. Once, King Andoa II of Antion crossed the river and laid siege to it for almost a year. It had not fallen. Yet he had been called away by Viokin raids and could never renew the attack. So it was that Calisha and Harlenor stood at a perpetual stalemate.


    As usual.


    It was a bitter irony that William was here to maintain that stalemate. William wished that he could face the enemy on their ground. And for a moment, he felt he understood Tanith. To strike down the Calishans, to move beyond the river, and conquer Ruscow. Such a thing would be a glorious venture if made properly.


    But his place was here, for now, running down a pier with Rusara.


    In them, he saw a dark-skinned man mending his nets. He looked up, cowering as Massacre came to a halt before him. There was a large fishing boat, large enough to transport some goods there as well. Many local people did business moving goods across Savior''s Run. Some of them, the smugglers, could be seen hanging from a post by the entrance to the village.


    At the sight of such armed figures, they moved to leap into the river to escape. Yet Rusara raised a hand, and the shadows lengthened to wrap around him. She dismounted Massacre and approached. William didn''t blame him for this. They were terrifying, and their haste was likely seen for murderous intent. He looked afraid, and William raised his hands in a gesture of peace.


    "You, who are you?" he gasped.


    "I am the sorceress, Rusara," said Rusara. "And I have need of your boat at once. Move quickly. The fate of Artarq rests on your speed."


    "How am I to know you are the real Rusara?" asked the man.


    Rusara raised her fingers and put them into a position to snap. The man shuddered. "Yes, milady. Climb aboard. Erm, will you be taking the thing?"


    "She''s a chimera," said William. "Massacre, could you stay behind? I don''t think you''ll fit."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "No, I won''t forget the music," said William.


    They got onto the boat, and the fisherman began untying the rope. Soon they were loose, and he looked to Rusara for direction. He was terrified of her, Dust Elves had a reputation, and Rusara was their leader.


    "Take us downriver," said Rusara.


    "But milady, we''ve seen Calishans on the far bank." said the man.


    "Yes, and now they are crossing," said Rusara. "We''ll need to stop them."


    "But how can even a sorceress stop such a host?" asked the man as he complied.


    "With surprising ease," said Rusara. "Night is falling. That is good. Stay quiet and keep your sword sheathed."


    Soon enough, they came within sight of the bridge. In the darkness, they could see the forces of Calisha making the crossing. They marched in great columns over the long bridge, forming ranks on the far bank. As of this moment, a third of the army was across. The rest was clustered against the side of the bridge. They numbered in thousands already, with more coming.


    "So that is the bridge," mused the man. "Looks like they have finally completed it."


    "Lower the sail, and we''ll row right up next to the bridge," said Rusara. "I''ll need to be up close for this."


    "Won''t they have watchers?" asked William.


    "They don''t have any, I can see," mused Rusara. "But I have already conjured the shadows to protect us from them. In any case, Banir hasn''t sent any advance scouts ahead of the bridge, either. His deployment has been very clumsy."


    Soon enough, they were right up alongside the bridge. William dared not make a sound as he saw spear-wielding soldiers marching above them. Rusara reached into the folds of her cloak and drew out some paint. She began to apply it with her fingers into the shape of runes.


    "How long until we move?" asked William.


    "Patience, William," said Rusara. "Keep watch for the flaming arrow while I paint the runes."


    "Why do you need runes?" asked the man.


    "Oh, runes are a channeling force," said William. "You put part of one''s magic into them. Then they channel your power into something else with various effects. Blood runes, for instance, sap life force and send it to someone else. Meanwhile, flame runes take magic and channel it into an explosion."


    "What is your name?" asked Rusara.


    "Sarif, Lady Rusara." said the man.


    "Well, you may have a story to tell your children when this is over," said Rusara. "Move the boat a little ways down. Quickly, we need to be swift."


    By now, nearly half the army was across or on the bridge. As Rusara began painting yet another rune on the bridge, William looked up at the sky. Suddenly he saw a spark of light surging high in the sky. There was a murmur of surprise from the Calishans.


    "Rusara, look," said William. "The arrow."


    "For Harlenor Reunited!!" came Raynald''s cry.


    "FOR HARLENOR REUNITED!!" came the reply.


    William peered into the darkness as the Calishans formed. He heard the twang of bowstrings. One couldn''t see the arrows at night, but one could see their effect. Hundreds of Calishans were caught off-guard, dying from the barrage in moments. Another volley fell, and still more were killed. Orders were shouted, and the Calishans formed their shields together. The arrows did not find their mark the next time.


    As the arrows slackened, the army of House Gabriel crashed into the Calishans. William thought he saw Raynald at the head, hacking and slashing like a berserker with his one good arm. With every stroke, a Calishan died, and their shield wall broke beneath his onslaught. Soon it was a melee, and Raynald was lost from sight.


    Looking up, William saw the Calishans hurrying faster across the bridge. Some stumbled in the darkness and fell into the river, splashing into the cold water. There hey were, floundering and grasping for the bridge. They couldn''t swim. Soon arrows began to fall upon the Calishans crossing the bridge. Dust Elves, indeed, were amazing archers. No human regiment could have been so precise in their shots at them. Yet the elves were concentrating most of their fire on a very narrow bridge.


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    Of course, when an arrow landed in the boat near him, his admiration turned to worry. "We need to move, Rusara. Or we''ll get caught in the arrows."


    Rusara finished. "Move us away. We can''t afford to be too close to this bridge when it goes up."


    The boat was rowed a bit away from the ship. The assault was continuing in earnest. Calishans were being driven back against the bridge, but among them, one stood out. It was a very tall woman wielding two scimitars. Harlenorians died around her as she rallied her forces against the onslaught. Her long red hair flowed around her as she cut down all who came against her.


    The battle was turning against them, the Calishans knew it, but they asked no quarter. They were clad only in leather and padding and faced men in steel armor. Yet they continued to fight. It was magnificent in its way.


    Then again, if the battle continued like this, Raynald''s momentum would fail. Inevitably the Calishans would overwhelm them. William saw more heavily armored Calishan troops crossing over the bridge. At their head was the banner of the King. King Banir was clad in shining mail, which was remarkable since it was night.


    They were out of time. "We have to destroy the bridge."


    Rusara said nothing. "Raynald seems to be enjoying himself. The De Chevlons always did have a taste for blood."


    "Rusara!" said William.


    Rusara sighed and drew out a small tube of leather. Opening it, she revealed malas. Bringing it to her nose, she sniffed it. Her eyes went blank white as an unnerving smile came to her face as she raised a hand. "Now."


    Rusara snapped her fingers.


    The world went green and white. The force of the explosion threw William back in the boat. Support beams and bits of flaming wood fell around them in the water. Screams and cries of distress could be heard as he staggered up and saw the bridge. Or what was left of it?


    Which was nothing? Nothing but the beginning and end. The thing was just gone. In its place were many soldiers floundering to try and stay afloat in their armor. Some grabbed onto bits of wood and tried to swim for the shore.


    And on the shore, the Calishans were being driven in by Raynald. It was becoming a massacre now. This combat was hardly fair. William heard the screams of the dying, saw the blood pouring out to soak the ground, and felt sick.


    "Well, that was quite spectacular," said Rusara with a smile. "It has been long since I could create so large a fire."


    Cries for help soon came from the men clinging to life in the river. William felt a sense of pity.


    "The Calishans," said William, "they are drowning."


    "Leave them be," said Rusara. "We can''t afford to risk getting taken as hostages."


    "But we can''t just leave them," said William.


    "You are far too soft-hearted," said Rusara. "This is a war, and they are the enemy. Look over there; the Calishans are putting up some resistance against Raynald. Their leader is rallying them. I''m somewhat impressed." She seemed amused.


    William stared at her. He''d never seen this side of her before. "Rusara..."


    "Sarif, take us upriver and then to shore," said Rusara.


    "Yes, Lady Rusara," said Sarif.


    "Help me!" cried a voice. "Help us, please!"


    Something in William snapped. He drew himself up and drew out his sword. "Belay that order! We''re going to save as many as we can! Now move!"


    "William-" began Rusara.


    "I am the son of Duke Vanion! That means I outrank you!" snapped William. "Now, go and help me save that man!"


    Rusara looked at him coldly. "So be it. If they try anything, I am setting them on fire."


    Sarif turned the boat back toward the cries for help, and William saw the screaming man. He was clad in heavy armor but had grabbed ahold of driftwood. William leaned out over the side of the boat and reached out for him. "Give me your hand. Come on."


    The man struggled and finally managed to catch William''s hand. Almost at once, his heavy armor drew him downwards. William hauled on him with all his might and pulled him onto the boat. He got a look at the man. He was tan-skinned and brown-bearded with a look around him, then turned his attention to the others.


    The next was clad in leather and swimming for his life. William pulled him aboard with greater ease, then moved on to the next and the next. Very soon, the boat was nearly packed, and William realized they could carry no more.


    "Sarif," said William, "take us to shore." Everyone else in the water was going to die. He couldn''t heed their cries for help.


    Then his senses screamed at him. Glancing back, he saw the glint of a knife. He ducked aside as it passed his throat. Then there was the sound of snapping fingers, and the man started screaming as he burst into green flame. William grabbed him by the collar and hurled him overboard into the river.


    "Anyone else!" he roared, picking up his sword. "Good, now come on! We''ll find someone to take his place!"


    One more person was saved. No one else tried to take control of the boat after that. Rusara kept a careful eye on everyone there. William looked at the first man he had saved and realized his armor had started to shine again. It might have been awe-inspiring in other circumstances. With the sound of weapons and the screams of horror, it seemed out of place.


    "You... are you King Banir?" he asked.


    "Yes," said the man.


    "Tell your men that if they attempt to defy us, Rusara will burn them to ashes," said William.


    "As you wish," said Banir before speaking in Calishan. His soldiers murmured among themselves. Then Banir looked back. "They know."


    "Good," said William. What else could be said?


    Banir didn''t seem interested. He was pointing to where the Calishans were making a final stand. They were surrounded and hemmed in but defiant. "The battle is ongoing still. My daughter is fighting well."


    "Your daughter?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Banir. "Kaja desired to lead the vanguard. How is it that you are here to stand against us?"


    "With great difficulty," said William.


    "I will remember tonight," said Banir. "What is your name?"


    "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel," said William. "My father wishes to negotiate with you." He looked to Sarif. "The battle seems to be calming now. Come, let''s go ashore." As they approached the shore, William looked to Sarif. "I''ll arrange for you to be paid well for your services if you''ll wait here on the banks for a time."


    "I have pay right here," said Rusara, drawing out a pouch of silver. "Take it."


    "I am in your debt, sir," said Sarif.


    William didn''t disagree openly, though he didn''t believe Sarif meant it for a moment. They had more or less forced him at sword point into danger. He was entitled to both pay and an apology. By the time they got to shore, the battle was mostly over. The surviving Calishans were being captured and led away. A force of soldiers approached with Tanith at their head.


    She smiled broadly, and her sword and armor were soaked in blood. She motioned with her sword at them, looking almost drunk. "Hold! Stand and deliver!"


    "It''s me, Tanith," said William.


    "William," she blinked before looking at the remnants of the bridge. "You and Rusara did your work well. But you missed all the fun. Who are these?"


    "This is King Banir," said William. "And several others we rescued from the wreckage. I''ll escort the King to my Father personally. Take the rest of them with the other prisoners."


    "We have quite a few as it is," said Tanith. "More than I''d like. I haven''t taken any prisoners until now. I prefer putting a sword through throats rather than to them."


    "Don''t kill any of them," said William. "They are under my protection."


    "Alright, alright," said Tanith, "which one is the King?"


    William looked to the men. Banir''s armor was still shining and gilded. The others were clad in drab leather or had a breast place at best. He looked back at Tanith. "Truly, it is a mystery for the ages."


    Tanith laughed, then looked to her men. "Take all of them except Banir. Go, move. If anyone resists, kill them and bring me their stuff."


    No one resisted, and the rest were bound and led away. As Tanith turned to go, William put a hand to her shoulder. "One more thing," he said. "I am told that King Banir''s daughter was involved in the fighting. Is there any news of her fate?"


    "Raynald took her prisoner," said Tanith. "Well, technically, I did. I beat her in a sword fight. She was decent, I guess. Anyway, I figured she''d be a decent sport. But Raynald got all preachy.


    "Something about her being worth a ransom and the rules of war. She is in Duke Vanion''s pavilion over there." She motioned without looking. "Personally, I think it''s a wasted opportunity, but I''m not in charge."


    William was more grateful for that fact by the moment. "Good," he looked to Banir. "Come, my father awaits."


    "I will not be ransomed," said Banir.


    "Be at ease," said William. "You are here as our guest.''


    William was doing his best to reassure Banir. His best needed to be more. Father had a use for him, so he would likely leave this place alive. Perhaps even with some part of his forces. William looked at the corpses and the dying. Then he looked to the bloodstained victors. He could not help but feel like throwing up.


    He didn''t, of course. That was beneath the dignity of the son of a Duke.

 Chapter Sixteen: The Hospitality of Duke Vanion

    Kiyora had watched the battle as it played out. Even from the distance of the hilltop, it had been sick. She''d seen skirmishes between satyrs and dwarves before. But never anything on this scale. And back then, she hadn''t considered any of it real.


    Now she knew it was. Duke Vanion observed the combat with a stony disposition. He watched the slaughter and only spoke to give orders.


    The plan worked perfectly. Kiyora knew she should be glad about that. But she wasn''t.


    Now it was over; she sat back in Duke Vanion''s pavilion. The Duke was sorting through various papers. It hadn''t been over for a minute, and he''d already started planning for the victory. He''d noticed her, of course, but he hadn''t said anything yet. Kiyora didn''t know what to say, so she did not mind.


    "I appreciate your assistance," said the Duke after a moment. "Without your help, my son likely never would have escaped Seathorius alive. You have been invaluable to my cause, and I shall not forget it."


    "No problem," said Kiyora.


    Then he looked up as a soldier appeared and saluted. "Duke Vanion, your son has captured King Banir. He pulled him out of the river before he drowned."


    Vanion smiled. Kiyora had only once seen him smile when she first met him after his adventures in Seathorius. "Really? That is excellent news," said the Duke. "Provide Banir with new clothes. Then politely invite him to negotiate with me." He looked to the shadows. "Felix, I would have you act as King Banir''s voice in these negotiations. It is unbefitting for royalty, however, diminished, to not be afforded proper respect."


    When had Felix gotten here? How did he keep appearing like this? "As you wish, Duke Vanion."


    The formality didn''t suit Felix. However, he was always formal around Duke Vanion. Wait, why did Felix have to speak for Banir anyway? "Can''t he speak for himself?"


    "There is a Calishan custom," said Vanion. "When negotiating with one deemed their inferior, they whisper in the ear of a servant. The servant, in turn, repeats your message. I intend to honor it."


    "That is really stupid," said Kiyora.


    "I am not overly fond of the custom myself, but I intend to be a courteous host," said Vanion. "It is a humiliation for a Calishan King to be forced to speak to one of lower rank without a servant. Oh, and Kiyora, if anyone asks, you availed upon me to submit to Calisha."


    "Submit?" asked Kiyora. "We just won."


    "And there lies the crux of my strategy," said Vanion.


    He said nothing more on that note. Of course, Kiyora could have asked him about it. William probably would have. But Kiyora knew the Duke well enough to know he longed to be asked and wasn''t in the mood to oblige him. So she waited for him to elaborate.


    Instead, Vanion sorted through some papers. His blue eyes flickered over each in turn. And then Banir arrived, and he put aside his notes and stood with a smile.


    "Ah, King Banir. I am glad you could grace us with your presence," said Vanion. "This boy is of your people. He will act as your voice in this matter unless you object."


    Banir looked at Felix and then whispered something in his ear. Felix looked at Vanion. "King Banir accepts this gift in the spirit of which it is given."


    "Excellent," said Vanion, offering Banir a chair. "Sit down, please. We have some business to discuss." He motioned to a kettle of tea. "Would you care for some tea?"


    Banir spoke his response to Felix. "King Banir does not mix business with pleasure."


    "A wise policy," said Vanion. "It is a shame that more of my countrymen do not share it. Despite our best efforts, I fear we have fallen short of your land in many ways." He sat down across from Banir. "Let me first say that your men fought bravely in the service of their nation. None can doubt their courage or the fortitude of their leader. It is lamentable that I should be forced to cut down such courageous warriors on the battlefield."


    There was a moment as Banir spoke to Felix. "King Banir desires to know your purpose in this meeting," said Felix. "He wishes to dispense with the formalities."


    If the response annoyed Vanion, he did not show it. "As you wish. We find ourselves with a problem, for neither can gain as things stand now. If I send you and your men back in defeat, it will not aid my cause. I will only buy a brief reprieve and await the next army to seize Artarq and win glory for their Emperor. On the other hand, should you return as you are now, you will appear to have failed the Emperor.


    "Please understand I hold you in the highest respect. Indeed, you are among the greatest of the enemies I have yet faced on the battle field. Yet, in every court, there are serpents. Many rivals, jealous of your achievements, will seek to turn the Emperor''s mind against you."


    "King Banir asks that you get to the point," said Felix.


    Vanion produced a parchment and offered it to Banir. "I have here a treaty I wish you to offer to Baltoth. I believe it is mutually beneficial to both parties. It should remove the need for any more unfortunate warfare."


    Banir looked over the parchment. His eyes widened in surprise, and he momentarily stared at it in shock. Then he looked up. "...Why would you offer such concessions when you are the victor?" he spoke with his voice.


    "You misunderstand me," said Vanion with a pleasant smile. "I merely wish things to come out the best for all involved. Should you bring this to the Emperor, I expect he will be pleased to have what he sought. Calisha will no longer have to rely on thieves and cutthroats for malas. And Harlenor need not fear the loss of their territories. I will be left in peace to mind my affairs, and you will have been the one to arrange this triumph."


    "What of my daughter?" asked Banir.


    "I will gladly release her along with you," said Vanion. "Indeed, I will offer safe passage for your army to cross over the river. However, it must be on the condition that they vow never to bear weapons against Harlenor again. It is a small formality; if all goes well, it is hardly necessary.


    "And you may take your arms with you."


    Banir looked at Vanion in a new light. Not necessarily a good one, though. "...I will take this to Baltoth and await his consideration. However, if I know his mind, I believe he will be open to your most generous offer."


    "That is all that can be hoped," said Vanion. "I will compose a letter to Baltoth describing the courageous conduct of your armies. Then none may speak ill of you. Now, I have a lot of work to do.


    "I will have food for you and your men soon enough."


    Banir departed, and Vanion watched him go with that same pleasant expression. As soon as he was gone, the joy disappeared from his face, and he began to write something down on some parchment. Kiyora had to ask.


    "So, is he among the greatest enemies you''ve faced?" Kiyora said.


    "Of course not," snapped Vanion in disgust. "Never tell anyone what you think of them if they have any power, Kiyora. It tends to backfire spectacularly."


    "So what do you think of him?" asked Kiyora.


    "Banir was a fool," said Vanion. "If he''d set up sentries and sent scouts over the bridge, he would have spotted us coming and been able to react. We''d have, at best, managed a fighting retreat. He could have advanced while Baltoth fed more and more troops over the river.


    "Instead, he blundered into my trap and was utterly defeated." He breathed out. "And if Baltoth is under the impression that Banir is a competent commander, he may send him against me again."


    "And you think writing a flowery speech about what a worthy opponent Banir was will do that?" asked Kiyora.


    "It worked at Desora," said Vanion. "Even so, I don''t expect Baltoth will be so forgiving a second time. The best Banir can hope for is early retirement. In that regard, what I write could go a long way to securing it.


    "Which is why Banir will cooperate. He needs to salvage his situation, and I am his only hope of doing that."


    Kiyora looked at Vanion. "You''re a bit eccentric for a human, aren''t you?"


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    "What do you mean?" asked Vanion.


    "Well, I mean, every other human I''ve met has been all about honor and glory," said Kiyora. "Raynald or Lady Azgora would have wanted to kill the whole army and send them packing."


    "I''m aware. I am eccentric," said Vanion. "I do not care for battle unless it advances my goals. Wars are expensive and dangerous affairs that risk my life and the lives of my family. If I can keep out of them and still achieve my goal so much, the better."


    "And what is your long-term goal?" asked Kiyora.


    Vanion looked up with a guarded expression. He seemed to contemplate his answer. "That is a personal question. Still, I see no reason not to answer. The truth is that I have advanced to the greatest position of power I can hope to achieve in this life. Now, I must think of the next generation and what legacy I will leave behind.


    "King Andoa has lived a long time. But he is aging. His son is my age and has accomplished little. His granddaughters are of a similar age to William."


    Kiyora saw where this was going. "So, you want to marry William into royalty?"


    "I am already among the most powerful men who do not call themselves King," said Vanion. "I have a fair number of accomplishments. If William continues as he has been going, I believe he will be a suitable match." He eyed her carefully. "You don''t approve."


    "Well, not really," admitted Kiyora. "What if William doesn''t want to marry a Princess?"


    "Then I have no intention of pressing the matter," said Vanion quickly. "I broke off an engagement years ago to marry Azgora. I am not such a hypocrite as to put William in the same position. Still, I shall do all I can to persuade him of the value of the move.


    "Now I''ll have to ask you to excuse me. I must see to those wounded in battle. A personal touch goes a long way to earning the love of one''s men." Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He put away his papers and walked to the door.


    "Right, I should probably get going as well," said Kiyora. "I didn''t exactly leave things in the best of states." She only hoped Wraith hadn''t too severely wrecked the city. How many people had gotten killed because of him?


    "As you wish," said Vanion.


    Kiyora focused on departing the dream. She found her consciousness drifting up, up, up, and then...


    Then nothing.


    Kiyora reappeared within what appeared to be an armory. There were all kinds of weapons and armor lining the walls. She looked around. "...Huh, that''s odd."


    "Kiyora, where have you been?" said a dark, rasping voice.


    Kiyora turned around and saw a hulking figure clad in white and black armor. The helmet looked like a skull, and the torso had the design of ribs upon it. The entire thing had been made to appear like a metal skeleton. Oh, and two glowing bright green eyes were coming from the helm. Over his back was a black shield, emblazoned with the symbol of a silver cobra.


    "Who the heck are you, dark lord?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, the helmet." said the figure before pulling it off. It was William beneath it.


    "Okay, William," said Kiyora, "what is with the armor?"


    "A gift from Lady Rusara," explained William, voice normal again. "What, don''t you like it?"


    "It''s inlaid with skulls," noted Kiyora. "Are you trying to look like a demon?"


    "Actually, yes," admitted William, looking at one gauntleted hand. "The idea is to terrify my enemies."


    "Okay, but is the voice changing necessary?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said William. "So why have you been gone so long?"


    "I uh... I don''t know," admitted Kiyora. "I didn''t wake up. Just slept. How long was I gone?"


    "About a week," said William. "We''ve been waiting for Baltoth''s response for some time. I was just going to see my Father. He is thinking about sending me with Raynald to the northern highlands of Khasmir."


    "Why there?" asked Kiyora.


    "Our satyr ally, Chieftain Relg, has recently approached us," said William. "He has come under threat by some of their enemies, and they want our assistance."


    "And here I was hoping the fighting was over," said Kiyora. "Speaking of which, how did that thing with Calisha work out?"


    "As I said, we''ve been waiting for Baltoth''s response," said William. "Though we haven''t faced any more attacks, that bodes well. There were a few skirmishes by Calishan''s trying to scout the area. But Tanith and Raynald intercepted those and destroyed them.


    "A message recently arrived to meet my Father. I was just going to stand with my him."


    "And the armor is for?" asked Kiyora.


    "To make us seem impressive," admitted William.


    "Right," said Kiyora. "So, where is Felix?"


    "Feeding Massacre," said William. "The other servants are terrified of her, and he''s the only one she doesn''t growl at. Now come on, I''ve got to meet up with Father."


    He led her out of the armory and through the white-tiled halls of the Palace. At last, they came to the throne room. Entering it, they walked along a red carpet. At the far end of the room were two raised thrones overlooking the whole room. Upon the leftmost one was Duke Vanion. He was dressed in a black cloak and violet doublet. He looked very kingly indeed, especially with his hands clasped together. The other throne, Kiyora guessed was for Azgora, was empty.


    Many other soldiers were around him very closely. They were also clad in their full armor but not alone. There were courtiers and others, all farther from Vanion''s seat. The Duke observed William''s approach and nodded to him, then Kiyora. Then William took his place near Tanith.


    "William, you look menacing," said Tanith. "You might even impress someone if they weren''t aware of how much you used to cry after scraping your knee."


    "Be silent," said William. "This isn''t the time."


    "Oh, come on," said Tanith, "we''ve already won. I don''t even see why we all have to be here."


    "On the contrary," said William, "Baltoth may still reject us. In which case, this delay has merely been the calm before the storm."


    "Right, right," said Tanith. "If this works, do you think we''ll get a triumph in Antion?"


    "Doubtful," mused William. "Father''s political enemies will claim this deal was appeasement."


    "His political enemies aren''t the only ones," said Tanith. "Raynald has been ranting about this all week. He isn''t happy. He was hoping for a larger war, something to do with his family."


    "You don''t seem very unhappy," noted William.


    "Eh, blood and death are fun," said Tanith. "But you can have too much of a good thing. I want to take the time to enjoy some of the spoils I got from raiding."


    "I wasn''t aware you cared much for money," noted William.


    "I don''t," said Tanith, "I''ll probably invest what I stole in a merchant expedition. Felix gave me a few hints on where we ought to start, and I hear the sugar trade is a goldmine. But I was talking about that priestess I kidnapped from the temple of Baltoth. I think she is starting to appreciate me."


    "I don''t want to discuss this with you further," said William.


    Kiyora couldn''t believe what she was hearing. Tanith had openly admitted to keeping someone as a sex slave. And William didn''t show anything but mild distaste. In the same way, she didn''t like how Laurus smoked. She felt sick. She wanted to scream and yell but knew this wasn''t the time.


    So she tapped William on the shoulder. "William, can I talk to you over there?"


    "Of course," said William.


    They made their way out of the crowd toward the back of the room. Kiyora turned to William. "How are you friends with that girl?"


    "Tanith?" asked William. "Oh, we''ve known each other since we were children, and her Father is a close ally. Her lack of formality is nothing unusual."


    "I''m not talking about her lack of formality," said Kiyora. "I mean that she just admitted to keeping an innocent girl as a sex slave."


    "Innocent is rather dubious." mused William. "She was a priestess of Baltoth. They are often trained to fight and oversee crucifixions."


    "You know what I mean!" hissed Kiyora.


    "What do you want me to say, Kiyora?" asked William. "She was part of a raid. She took a captive as a slave. She decided to keep that slave for herself. I don''t see what your problem is?"


    "My problem is that slavery is wrong," said Kiyora.


    William stared at her as though she had grown a second head. "Kiyora, I have no idea what you are talking about. Slavery isn''t wrong or right. It''s just something that can happen."


    "Would you want to be enslaved?" asked Kiyora.


    "Of course not," said William. "But I don''t want to be stabbed to death either. That doesn''t mean there aren''t situations where killing someone is justified." He paused. "Look, I don''t like what Tanith is doing either; she''s changed a lot since she left Carn Gable. But she isn''t doing anything she doesn''t have a right to.


    "I''m not going to destroy years of friendship because she''s picked up a few bad habits."


    Bad habits? As if Tanith was smoking cigarettes outside the gates of the school. Kiyora was about to let William have it when suddenly the doors opened, and into the room came the herald. They quickly hurried back to their place.


    "The Envoy Emira, daughter of Suloth." said the herald.


    "Suloth?" asked Kiyora.


    "A son of Baltoth," said William. "The greatest of Baltoth''s children. How do you not know this?"


    She walked into the room, clad in flowing brown robes and wearing a concealing mask of gold. She was skinny and held an ornate silver scimitar by her side. Behind her was a muscular servant carrying a large wooden box.


    She bowed her head as she reached the throne. "Greetings to you, noble Vanion. I have walked from the Capital of Ruscow after King Banir brought your message. The Emperor Baltoth has considered your offer and has bidden me provide a gift in turn."


    "Why is she talking directly?" asked Kiyora.


    "In this situation, he is the servant, speaking for her master, Baltoth," said William.


    "Oh, right," said Kiyora.


    The box was put on the step and set down. Vanion made his way downward, and it was opened. He recoiled at what he saw, and there was a gasp. There, in the box, lay the head of King Banir. His expression was one of agony.


    "What is the meaning of this?!" said Vanion.


    "The Inexorable Baltoth salutes your heroic defiance," said Emira. "And approves of your wisdom to negotiate in the face of inevitable defeat. However, he asks that you not insult his intelligence by claiming Banir as a worthy opponent. The Emperor knows who serves him well and who squanders his resources.


    "The failure was Banir''s, and no credit falls upon him or his line for what you gave freely.


    "The Emperor Baltoth accepts your most generous offer."


    Vanion mastered himself. "Then, I shall accept this gift in the spirit of which it was given. I would ask that mercy be shown upon Banir''s daughter. She fought valiantly in service of her Emperor."


    "Rest assured, the Emperor knows who serves him," said Emira.


    "Please accept our hospitality for the night," said Vanion. "And when you return to your Emperor, tell him I apologize for my deception. In war, one must seek every advantage."


    "Of course," said Emira. "Baltoth understands the laws of war all too well."


    "Now," said Vanion, "I would ask that my closest advisors and I be left to speak alone."


    At these words, everyone filed out, speaking about what had happened. Emiran rose and departed without a word as Vanion looked at the head. Eventually, the remaining people were Raynald, Rusara, Vanion, William, and Kiyora. They and a servant, Vanion, took them by the shoulder to have him stay.


    Vanion waited until the room was almost empty. Then he let his anger show. "Barbarism!" He looked to the servant. "Sunthred, find some priests of Baltoth. See to it that King Banir be cremated with all proper funeral rights. And bring word to the satyr messengers. Tell them we will come to their aid."


    "At least we have a truce," said Rusara.


    "Yes, that is fortunate," said Vanion. "It frees up our soldiers for more important matters."


    "Father, what could be more important than the vendetta of the gods?" asked William.


    Vanion looked up in surprise at the voice, blinked twice, and recognized his son. "Ensuring our allies don''t fall," said Vanion. "Raynald. I want you and Rusara to take the forces we set aside and make for the highlands at once. Take William with you.


    "William, you will learn by their example."


    "Of course, Father," said William.


    "Right," said Kiyora, "well, I guess I''ll-" Then she found herself drawn upwards. "Oh, so now I''m waking up!" This was so typical!

 Chapter Seventeen: Khasmir

    Mother had been bedridden for the past few days. She didn''t look happy about the fact, even if she was months pregnant. William entered the room, keeping his helmet slung under one arm as he approached. She looked up at him with narrowed eyes.


    "Mother, I''m going," said William. "I thought I''d come to say goodbye."


    "Vanion has told me of your exploits during battle," said Mother. "Would that I had been there.


    "Unfortunately, it has been too long since my spear was driven home into the breast of an enemy. Even so, I am glad you played a part in the victory. You should seek to be part of the combat in this coming fight. In the field of battle, with a sword on sword, that is where true glory is.


    "Everything else is merely preparation. I fear your Father has never understood that."


    "I''m sure Raynald will place me wherever I need to be," said William. He wasn''t about to tell her he had no desire to ever be in combat again.


    "If he does not place you in the thick of the fighting, you should request it," said Mother. "There is where you will earn your place as a warrior."


    "I understand," said William.


    "I wish I were coming with you," said Azgora. "However, your brother and sister keep me here."


    "Brother and sister?" asked William.


    "Yes, the priests tell me I will bear twins," said Azgora. "I am glad to have a daughter finally. I am still proud of you, of course."


    "Thank you, Mother," said William, not at all sure of what to say. "I should go."


    As he made his way down to the courtyard, he tried to ignore the weight of his armor. He far preferred his lighter chain shirt to this, even if it didn''t afford nearly as much protection. Kiyora''s concern about the appearance of it was one he shared privately, but Rusara had chosen it. Inspiring fear was an essential part of Dust Elven warfare, or so William had been taught by Rusara.


    He pulled his black cloak closer around him as he entered the courtyard and found Tanith waiting. "Ready?" she asked.


    "Yes," said William. "Though the armor is heavy."


    "Get used to it," said Tanith. "You''ll be wearing it for a while."


    "Yes, yes," said William.


    "What''s the harp for anyway?" asked Tanith.


    "Oh, this?" said William, looking at the harp hanging under his crimson cloak. "It''s for Massacre."


    "The chimera is coming?" asked Tanith, sounding impressed.


    "Yes," said William. "The only reason she didn''t come with us in the first place was that she is a child of Typhos. Our mission ran contrary to Typhos'' interests. She''ll help our chances with this, though."


    "Right," said Tanith doubtfully. "Where are Felix and the chimera anyway?"


    "Felix is concluding some business deals," said William. "Massacre went with him."


    "Yours?" asked Tanith.


    "No, his own," said William. "Still, it isn''t like Felix to be late."


    "Well, he isn''t late yet," said Tanith.


    There was a long silence. William searched for something to say. "Tanith, what was being in battle like for you?"


    "Oh, it was fun," said Tanith.


    "Fun?" asked William. "I thought you were just blustering when you said that before."


    "I meant every word," said Tanith. "The best time I''ve ever had. I remember I hit one of them in the face with my sword. He screamed until I hit him again and caved in his skull. I remember the sensation of my blood pumping as I hacked and slashed my way through them. I wish I could have felt that way forever."


    "Are you sure that''s healthy?" asked William. "Enjoying ending another''s life?"


    "You''re worse than Raynald," muttered Tanith. "Of course, it''s healthy. War is how Haldrenians prove themselves worthy of their titles. It has been since there has been a Haldren. Killing Calishans is our duty. So how can it be wrong to enjoy doing what Elranor wants us to do?"


    "I''m not sure Elranor has a grudge against Calishans," said William. "So much as Baltoth."


    "Is that why you saved the Calishans, then?" asked Tanith, an edge in her voice.


    "My father had a use for Banir," said William. "And I thought capturing a King of Calisha would be glorious." He knew it was a lie.


    "Really? And his minions?" asked Tanith.


    "I almost drowned once, Tanith," said William. "I watched Felix almost drown. It isn''t something I''d wish on my worst enemies."


    "They''re Calishans," said Tanith.


    "Yes, and if I''m ever captured by one, I''d rather not be executed out of hand," said William. "Having a reputation for benevolence to one''s defeated enemies can help one''s chances. Not every battle is a victory."


    "I guess," said Tanith. "You sound just like Duke Vanion, you know. I remember Raynald and he argued."


    "What about?" asked William.


    "Raynald wanted to execute every prisoner who wasn''t worth anything. Then we''d ransom the rest," said Tanith. "Send a message to Calisha."


    "Well, that sounds like Raynald." said William, "I think I know what Father''s response was."


    At that moment, Felix and Massacre got back. The Calishan boy approached, throwing his violet cloak behind him. "I''m sorry I wasn''t here sooner. Some unexpected business came up."


    "Don''t worry about it," said Tanith. "So, you sat in on a negotiation between Duke Vanion and King Banir. What''d they talk about?"


    "For the most part, Duke Vanion flattered him, offered him generous terms, and got him to leave," said Felix.


    "That''s all?" asked Tanith.


    "More or less," said Felix. "It was some time ago, but Vanion held all the cards. It wasn''t exciting."


    "And here I''d hoped there had been some secret negotiations," said Tanith. "Ah well, can''t argue with total victory. And the bastard ended up dead anyway, so all ends well."


    "Don''t concern yourself with it," said William. "Let''s focus on what we can affect. Let''s get outside the gates before Raynald sends a search party."


    They began their walk. As they did, Tanith looked thoughtful. "I don''t understand why we made friends with the satyrs up north anyway."


    "Surely you must have read the history," said William.


    "I''ve dropped out of reading history. Mostly since signing up with Lord Marn," said Tanith, which was no excuse since they''d been taught it. How much had she forgotten?


    "Well, fortunately for you, I have not," said William. "Khasmir is of strategic importance. If the Calishans were to gain control of it, they could move their armies across the river. They could then head south over the northern frontier. They know it, and we know it. That''s why we must support our allies in the region."


    "I don''t see why we couldn''t just kill all the satyrs," said Tanith. "Then, once they were all dead, we could move our colonists in."


    "The Calishans would have an easy time marching through graveyards," mused William. Note to self: appeals to pragmatism had a greater effect than an appeal to one''s conscience.


    "Oh right," said Tanith. "It would be pretty hard to hold that region by ourselves. So, who are our allies again?"


    "We''re allied with the Fireeyes Clan and their vassals," said William. "They converted to worship Elranor some years ago, and their leader was educated in Antion. The Bloodhowlers are a group who worship Baltoth, originally from Seathorius. We can be grateful that they are the smallest of the Khasmir factions."


    "I don''t understand why they didn''t cross the river near their allies, then head south," said Tanith.


    "They could have," said William. "But we''d have heard about it. And all the other clans would have allied to fight off a hostile invasion. Once we came with reinforcements, they would face a far larger army than before."


    "Well, what about the worshippers of Fortenex?" asked Tanith. "The ones we fought before."


    "They are a minority of the neutral clans long at war with the worshippers of Kreshlak," said William. "I suspect they allied with Wraith in the hopes of tipping the scales in their favor."


    "Who worships Kreshlak?" asked Tanith.


    "Everyone except the worshippers of Fortenex," said William. "Viokin traders spread his worship well before we even owned Artarq. You see, this was before the Viokin Wars and-"


    "Okay, okay, whatever," said Tanith. "I remember reading about all this in Carn Gable. It''s coming back to me. The Viokins had a stint of sending missionaries out to other lands."


    "If you don''t want the answer to your questions, you shouldn''t ask them, Tanith," said William.


    "Just tell me who I need to stab when I need to stab them, okay," said Tanith. "I know history is important, but I have no talent for it. I''m better at languages. Still, I can learn more about this feud between Kreshlak and Fortenex.


    "Worth noting about in my journal."


    "As you wish," said William, feeling a twinge of irritation. She never used to have this little regard for her education.


    The army traveled north on the road for several days. William spent much of his spare time helping the priests heal people. The men who got injured or sick along the route were grateful. They didn''t run into anything serious, of course. Yet, in an army of thousands, someone was always getting injured.


    He had a limited amount of spare time. Raynald and Rusara were making all kinds of day-to-day decisions. William watched these, observed, and tried to learn as best he could. Most of them were dreary, such as the placement of latrines or the organization of the camp. But he knew such decisions were critical, so he held his tongue and listened.


    At night he would play his music for Massacre. Yet he found that his music became something of an event. Many of the women in the army came to listen, as well. He found he enjoyed the attention.


    Before long, they had passed by the castle of Lord Asimir, now under the management of Sarris. The wall had been partially repaired, and they took shelter there for the night. The land, however, had begun to change. The grass was turning to a more pleasant shade, and the area seemed far less harsh.


    "It seems that Elranor is extending his influence over this place at last," said Raynald. "Good. I was tired of Baltoth holding territory in a land that belongs to Harlenor."


    "I have always found Elranor''s domains to be far too tame," mused Rusara.


    The following day they pressed on to Khasmir.


    The ground grew steadily rougher, and the air far colder. The trees here were twisted and low to the ground, while vegetation was hard to come by. Once or twice, William saw mountain goats wandering the landscape. Several were hunted for meals by soldiers when they did not flee quickly enough.


    Kreshlak''s will soon become known, and travel injuries became more common. It also began to rain more, and the wind was always howling. William spent much time healing those who fell or became severely cold. A few fell into frozen rivers, and he could not save them all. It had taken constant effort to keep them alive until Rusara''s fire could warm them.


    "Now, do you see why we brought all that heavy clothing?" asked William.


    "Yes, yes," Tanith said, pulling her cloak closer, "this is even worse than Baltoth''s domain. How can anyone stand it?"


    "Baltoth and Kreshlak both share the philosophy that hardship creates strength," said Felix. "The difference is Baltoth appreciates the benefits of an advanced civilization. Kreshlak would prefer it if everyone lived in yurts and hit each other with axes all day."


    "I would keep such opinions to yourself," William warned him. "Those who dwell here may be of a different mind." He looked at Felix. "I''m surprised, though; I didn''t know you held him in such contempt."


    "Kreshlak is in many ways the antithesis of my beliefs," said Felix. "Professing a meaningless warrior code and condemning the use of cunning and cooperation. As if brute force was the source of power."


    "And what is the source of power?" asked William, curious as to his answer.


    "Your ability to achieve your objectives," said Felix. "If you accomplish what you set out to do, then you are powerful. If you fail, you are not. Power is one''s ability to enforce one''s will upon a universe that defies you. Everything else is merely window dressing.


    "Look at Duke Vanion. He is physically inferior to both Raynald and Lady Azgora. He needs to gain more skill in magic to compare to Rusara. And yet he is the most powerful person in this land."


    "I never heard you speak this way," mused William. "Is this a personal philosophy?"


    "No," said Felix. "It has a basis in my holy texts."


    "Your holy texts?" asked Tanith in amusement. "What are you, a god?"


    "I mean to say the holy texts that the Duke had stored in Carn Gable''s library," said Felix quickly. "You see, he purchased several texts written by Baltoth and put them away. However, aside from the Duke, I was the only person who ever read them, so I felt like they were mine."


    "Yes, I remember those," said William. "I always meant to read them but never got around to it. I''m surprised you liked them so much. Considering-" William stopped as he realized he had nearly opened up old wounds.


    Felix did not show any distress other than looking a bit melancholy. "What Baltoth did to my family was not personal. It was merely the law, and he was enforcing it. Ruthless punishment of those who steal from the crown keeps others from doing the same."


    "You know, I''ve been saying that for years," said Tanith. She had not.


    Soon, they began to pass villages of satyrs, always on hilltops and surrounded by walls. The people came out to watch them warily, holding weapons. Their warriors kept their guard up, and someone blew a horn. Another followed the horn. Then, it was answered by another two calls somewhere in the difference.


    "A warning sign," mused Tanith.


    "Yes," said Raynald, who had been walking along the lines. "The Fireeyes clan has a very organized series of warning systems. Each village chief has four horns: one for the north, one for the south, one for the east, and one for the west. They blow one or two of them to signify the direction of the enemy army. Then the other villages blow their horns when they hear it."


    "Wouldn''t it be much simpler to light a signal fire?" asked Felix.


    "It would," admitted Raynald. "Relg always was fond of making things too complicated for his good."


    They passed several other villages and heard several more horn calls. Raynald listened to them and frowned. After a moment, he looked at them.


    "North," said Raynald. "There is an army approaching from the north."


    "Are you sure?" asked William. "I mean, suppose a village south of here saw an army approaching them from the north? Then the army would be to the south."


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "Wouldn''t some other villages have warned them beforehand?" asked Tanith. "You know, before the army got south of us."


    "This system is complicated to the point of being useless," mused Felix.


    "Oh, I forgot to mention something," said Raynald. "The horn calls don''t say whether they are north, south, east, or west of the village. They say they are north, south, east, or west of Kynn."


    "What is Kynn?" asked Tanith.


    "The most formidable fortress in Khasmir," said Raynald. "Armies have broken on it like the sea against cliffs. It''s probably the only worthwhile thing the satyrs ever made."


    "It is the capital of our allies in Khasmir," said William.


    Some hours later, they came within sight of their destination. It sat at the top of a cliff, with the southern side a sheer cliff and only one possible area of the approach. William felt climbing would be difficult, even for him and Felix.


    The fortress looked like it had been assembled without any plan or idea of its shape. The towers were all at different heights, though they were tall. The stonework was of several styles, chipped and cracked in many places. Satyrs patrolled it with bows.


    "So that''s the fortress," said William. "Not nearly so impressive as I thought it would be."


    "That''s Kynn?" asked Tanith. "It doesn''t look very well defended."


    "That is because the army is over there," said Felix.


    The cliff had hidden the army, but now they could see it. It was quite large, though still inferior in numbers to their own. The satyrs within it were clad in leather and wielded axes and shields. No scimitars could be seen like their cousins in Seathorius used. They also looked a bit shorter and bulkier.


    Raynald, at this moment, approached. "William, I''m going to meet with Relg. You will accompany me. Rusara will be in command in my absence."


    "You don''t think they''ll betray us?" asked William.


    "I have no good reason to think they will," said Raynald. "But who knows what these satyr animals will get up to on a whim? I''m not taking any chances. Besides, we might come under attack while meeting with them."


    The satyrs had a similar idea. Their leaders came forward with a white flag at around the same time. The two groups marched to meet each other, and William saw the satyr leader, Relg, he guessed. He was taller than his brethren and thinner, too. His eyes were dark, and his fur was black as night. He wore a long brown cloak around metal armor. He bowed his head as Raynald approached. "Lord Raynald De Chevlon. News of your victories in battle has reached across the world. I am glad that a great warrior has come to our aid."


    "I thank you, Chieftain Relg Fireeyes," said Raynald, none of his disdain in his voice. "We men of Harlenor always honor our debts and remember our friends long after we have been forgotten. What troubles you?"


    "Many of the neutral clans have been united in common cause against us," said Relg. "We feared they would attack us, and our fears have borne fruit. Even as we speak, they march toward us. We will need your steel on this day to gain victory."


    "You have it," said Raynald. "My men and their arms are as one with yours."


    "Then together we shall slaughter our enemies!" said Relg. "Let us bring our officers together and make our plans upon this ground."


    "It shall be so," said Raynald.


    After they had separated, William looked to Raynald. "Why wouldn''t Relg have his army within Kynn, Raynald? It seems a waste to leave the fortress unoccupied when he is there."


    "Kynn is his great advantage," said Raynald. "And satyrs know nothing of loyalty. Most of that army comes from Relg''s vassals. If he let them in, they might never leave. So he would much rather confront his enemies far afield and fall back to Kynn if he suffers a defeat."


    "I see," said William. "He is very well-spoken, isn''t he?"


    "Relg was educated in Antion. He speaks Harlenorian with perfect clarity," said Raynald. "It doesn''t make him any less of a satyr."


    Duly noted. Kiyora had watched the battle as it played out. Even from the distance of the hilltop, it had been sick. She''d seen skirmishes between satyrs and dwarves before. But never anything on this scale. And back then, she hadn''t considered any of it real.


    Now she knew it was. Duke Vanion observed the combat with a stony disposition. He watched the slaughter and only spoke to give orders.


    The plan worked perfectly. Kiyora knew she should be glad about that. But she wasn''t.


    Now it was over; she sat back in Duke Vanion''s pavilion. The Duke was sorting through various papers. It hadn''t been over for a minute, and he''d already started planning for the victory. He''d noticed her, of course, but he hadn''t said anything yet. Kiyora didn''t know what to say, so she did not mind.


    "I appreciate your assistance," said the Duke after a moment. "Without your help, my son likely never would have escaped Seathorius alive. You have been invaluable to my cause, and I shall not forget it."


    "No problem," said Kiyora.


    Then he looked up as a soldier appeared and saluted. "Duke Vanion, your son has captured King Banir. He pulled him out of the river before he drowned."


    Vanion smiled. Kiyora had only once seen him smile when she first met him after his adventures in Seathorius. "Really? That is excellent news," said the Duke. "Provide Banir with new clothes. Then politely invite him to negotiate with me." He looked to the shadows. "Felix, I would have you act as King Banir''s voice in these negotiations. It is unbefitting for royalty, however, diminished, to not be afforded proper respect." S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    When had Felix gotten here? How did he keep appearing like this? "As you wish, Duke Vanion."


    The formality didn''t suit Felix. However, he was always formal around Duke Vanion. Wait, why did Felix have to speak for Banir anyway? "Can''t he speak for himself?"


    "There is a Calishan custom," said Vanion. "When negotiating with one deemed their inferior, they whisper in the ear of a servant. The servant, in turn, repeats your message. I intend to honor it."


    "That is really stupid," said Kiyora.


    "I am not overly fond of the custom myself, but I intend to be a courteous host," said Vanion. "It is a humiliation for a Calishan King to be forced to speak to one of lower rank without a servant. Oh, and Kiyora, if anyone asks, you availed upon me to submit to Calisha."


    "Submit?" asked Kiyora. "We just won."


    "And there lies the crux of my strategy," said Vanion.


    He said nothing more on that note. Of course, Kiyora could have asked him about it. William probably would have. But Kiyora knew the Duke well enough to know he longed to be asked and wasn''t in the mood to oblige him. So she waited for him to elaborate.


    Instead, Vanion sorted through some papers. His blue eyes flickered over each in turn. And then Banir arrived, and he put aside his notes and stood with a smile.


    "Ah, King Banir. I am glad you could grace us with your presence," said Vanion. "This boy is of your people. He will act as your voice in this matter unless you object."


    Banir looked at Felix and then whispered something in his ear. Felix looked at Vanion. "King Banir accepts this gift in the spirit of which it is given."


    "Excellent," said Vanion, offering Banir a chair. "Sit down, please. We have some business to discuss." He motioned to a kettle of tea. "Would you care for some tea?"


    Banir spoke his response to Felix. "King Banir does not mix business with pleasure."


    "A wise policy," said Vanion. "It is a shame that more of my countrymen do not share it. Despite our best efforts, I fear we have fallen short of your land in many ways." He sat down across from Banir. "Let me first say that your men fought bravely in the service of their nation. One can doubt their courage or the fortitude of their leader. It is lamentable that I should be forced to cut down such courageous warriors on the battlefield."


    There was a moment as Banir spoke to Felix. "King Banir desires to know your purpose in this meeting," said Felix. "He wishes to dispense with the formalities."


    If the response annoyed Vanion, he did not show it. "As you wish. We have a problem, for neither can gain as things stand now. If I send you and your men back in defeat, it will not aid my cause. I will only buy a brief reprieve and await the next army to seize Artarq and win glory for their Emperor. On the other hand, should you return as you are now, you will appear to have failed the Emperor.


    "Please understand I hold you in the highest respect. Indeed, you are among the greatest of the enemies I have yet faced on the battlefield. Yet, in every court, there are serpents. Many rivals, jealous of your achievements, will seek to turn the Emperor''s mind against you."


    "King Banir asks that you get to the point," said Felix.


    Vanion produced a parchment and offered it to Banir. "I have here a treaty I wish you to offer to Baltoth. I believe it is mutually beneficial to both parties. It should remove the need for any more unfortunate warfare."


    Banir looked over the parchment. His eyes widened in surprise, and he momentarily stared at it in shock. Then he looked up. "...Why would you offer such concessions when you are the victor?" he spoke with his voice.


    "You misunderstand me," said Vanion with a pleasant smile. "I merely wish things to come out the best for all involved. Should you bring this to the Emperor, I expect he will be pleased to have what he sought. Calisha will no longer have to rely on thieves and cutthroats for malas. And Harlenor need not fear the loss of their territories. I will be left in peace to mind my affairs, and you will have been the one to arrange this triumph."


    "What of my daughter?" asked Banir.


    "I will gladly release her along with you," said Vanion. "Indeed, I will offer safe passage for your army to cross over the river. However, it must be on the condition that they vow never to bear weapons against Harlenor again. It is a small formality; if all goes well, it is hardly necessary.


    "And you may take your arms with you."


    Banir looked at Vanion in a new light. Not necessarily a good one, though. "...I will take this to Baltoth and await his consideration. However, if I know his mind, I believe he will be open to your most generous offer."


    "That is all that can be hoped," said Vanion. "I will compose a letter to Baltoth describing the courageous conduct of your armies. Then none may speak ill of you. Now, I have a lot of work to do.


    "I will have food for you and your men soon enough."


    Banir departed, and Vanion watched him go with that same pleasant expression. As soon as he was gone, the joy disappeared from his face, and he began to write something down on some parchment. Kiyora had to ask.


    "So, is he among the greatest enemies you''ve faced?" Kiyora said.


    "Of course not," snapped Vanion in disgust. "Never tell anyone what you think of them if they have any power, Kiyora. It tends to backfire spectacularly."


    "So what do you think of him?" asked Kiyora.


    "Banir was a fool," said Vanion. "If he''d set up sentries and sent scouts over the bridge, he would have spotted us coming and been able to react. We''d have, at best, managed a fighting retreat. He could have advanced while Baltoth fed more and more troops over the river.


    "Instead, he blundered into my trap and was utterly defeated." He breathed out. "And if Baltoth is under the impression that Banir is a competent commander, he may send him against me again."


    "And you think writing a flowery speech about what a worthy opponent Banir was will do that?" asked Kiyora.


    "It worked at Desora," said Vanion. "Even so, I don''t expect Baltoth will be so forgiving a second time. The best Banir can hope for is early retirement. In that regard, what I write could go a long way to securing it.


    "Which is why Banir will cooperate. He needs to salvage his situation, and I am his only hope of doing that."


    Kiyora looked at Vanion. "You''re a bit eccentric for a human, aren''t you?"


    "What do you mean?" asked Vanion.


    "Well, I mean, every other human I''ve met has been all about honor and glory," said Kiyora. "Raynald or Lady Azgora would have wanted to kill the whole army and send them packing."


    "I''m aware. I am eccentric," said Vanion. "I do not care for battle unless it advances my goals. Wars are expensive and dangerous affairs that risk my life and the lives of my family. If I can keep out of them and still achieve my goal so much, the better."


    "And what is your long-term goal?" asked Kiyora.


    Vanion looked up with a guarded expression. He seemed to contemplate his answer. "That is a personal question. Still, I see no reason not to answer. The truth is that I have advanced to the greatest position of power I can hope to achieve in this life. Now, I must think of the next generation and what legacy I will leave behind.


    "King Andoa has lived a long time. But he is aging. His son is my age and has accomplished little. His granddaughters are of a similar age to William."


    Kiyora saw where this was going. "So, you want to marry William into royalty?"


    "I am already among the most powerful men who do not call themselves King," said Vanion. "I have a fair number of accomplishments. If William continues as he has been going, I believe he will be a suitable match." He eyed her carefully. "You don''t approve."


    "Well, not really," admitted Kiyora. "What if William doesn''t want to marry a Princess?"


    "Then I have no intention of pressing the matter," said Vanion quickly. "I broke off an engagement years ago to marry Azgora. I am not such a hypocrite as to put William in the same position. Still, I shall do all I can to persuade him of the value of the move.


    "Now I''ll have to ask you to excuse me. I must see to those wounded in battle. A personal touch goes a long way to earning the love of one''s men."


    He put away his papers and walked to the door.


    "Right, I should probably get going as well," said Kiyora. "I didn''t exactly leave things in the best of states." She only hoped Wraith hadn''t too severely wrecked the city. How many people had gotten killed because of him?


    "As you wish," said Vanion.


    Kiyora focused on departing the dream. She found her consciousness drifting up, up, up, and then...


    Then nothing.


    Kiyora reappeared within what appeared to be an armory. There were all kinds of weapons and armor lining the walls. She looked around. "...Huh, that''s odd."


    "Kiyora, where have you been?" said a dark, rasping voice.


    Kiyora turned around and saw a hulking figure clad in white and black armor. The helmet looked like a skull, and the torso had the design of ribs upon it. The entire thing had been made to appear like a metal skeleton. Oh, and two glowing bright green eyes were coming from the helm. Over his back was a black shield emblazoned with the symbol of a silver cobra.


    "Who the heck are you, dark lord?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, the helmet." said the figure before pulling it off. It was William beneath it.


    "Okay, William," said Kiyora, "what is with the armor?"


    "A gift from Lady Rusara," explained William, voice normal again. "What, don''t you like it?"


    "It''s inlaid with skulls," noted Kiyora. "Are you trying to look like a demon?"


    "Actually, yes," admitted William, looking at one gauntleted hand. "The idea is to terrify my enemies."


    "Okay, but is the voice changing necessary?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said William. "So why have you been gone so long?"


    "I uh... I don''t know," admitted Kiyora. "I didn''t wake up. Just slept. How long was I gone?"


    "About a week," said William. "We''ve been waiting for Baltoth''s response for some time. I was just going to see my Father. He is thinking about sending me with Raynald to the northern highlands of Khasmir."


    "Why there?" asked Kiyora.


    "Our satyr ally, Chieftain Relg, has recently approached us," said William. "He has come under threat by some of their enemies, and they want our assistance."


    "And here I was hoping the fighting was over," said Kiyora. "Speaking of which, how did that thing with Calisha work out?"


    "As I said, we''ve been waiting for Baltoth''s response," said William. "Though we haven''t faced any more attacks, that bodes well. There were a few skirmishes by Calishan''s trying to scout the area. But Tanith and Raynald intercepted those and destroyed them.


    "A message recently arrived to meet my Father. I was just going to stand with him."


    "And the armor is for?" asked Kiyora.


    "To make us seem impressive," admitted William.


    "Right," said Kiyora. "So, where is Felix?"


    "Feeding Massacre," said William. "The other servants are terrified of her, and he''s the only one she doesn''t growl at. Now come on, I''ve got to meet up with Father."


    He led her out of the armory and through the white-tiled halls of the Palace. At last, they came to the throne room. Entering it, they walked along a red carpet. At the far end of the room were two raised thrones overlooking the whole room. Upon the leftmost one was Duke Vanion. He was dressed in a black cloak and violet doublet. He looked very kingly indeed, especially with his hands clasped together. The other throne, Kiyora guessed was for Azgora, was empty.


    Many other soldiers were around him very closely. They were also clad in their full armor but not alone. There were courtiers and others, all farther from Vanion''s seat. The Duke observed William''s approach and nodded to him, then Kiyora. Then William took his place near Tanith.


    "William, you look menacing," said Tanith. "You might even impress someone if they weren''t aware of how much you used to cry after scraping your knee."


    "Be silent," said William. "This isn''t the time."


    "Oh, come on," said Tanith, "we''ve already won. I don''t even see why we all have to be here."


    "On the contrary," said William, "Baltoth may still reject us. In which case, this delay has merely been the calm before the storm."


    "Right, right," said Tanith. "If this works, do you think we''ll get a triumph in Antion?"


    "Doubtful," mused William. "Father''s political enemies will claim this deal was appeasement."


    "His political enemies aren''t the only ones," said Tanith. "Raynald has been ranting about this all week. He isn''t happy. He was hoping for a larger war, something to do with his family."


    "You don''t seem very unhappy," noted William.


    "Eh, blood and death are fun," said Tanith. "But you can have too much of a good thing. I want to take the time to enjoy some of the spoils I got from raiding."


    "I wasn''t aware you cared much for money," noted William.


    "I don''t," said Tanith, "I''ll probably invest what I stole in a merchant expedition. Felix gave me a few hints on where we ought to start, and I hear the sugar trade is a goldmine. But I was talking about that priestess I kidnapped from the temple of Baltoth. I think she is starting to appreciate me."


    "I don''t want to discuss this with you further," said William.


    Kiyora couldn''t believe what she was hearing. Tanith had openly admitted to keeping someone as a sex slave. And William didn''t show anything but mild distaste. In the same way, she didn''t like how Laurus smoked. She felt sick. She wanted to scream and yell but knew this wasn''t the time.


    So she tapped William on the shoulder. "William, can I talk to you over there?"


    "Of course," said William.


    They made their way out of the crowd toward the back of the room. Kiyora turned to William. "How are you friends with that girl?"


    "Tanith?" asked William. "Oh, we''ve known each other since we were children, and her Father is a close ally. Her lack of formality is nothing unusual."


    "I''m not talking about her lack of formality," said Kiyora. "I mean that she just admitted to keeping an innocent girl as a sex slave."


    "Innocent is rather dubious." mused William. "She was a priestess of Baltoth. They are often trained to fight and oversee crucifixions."


    "You know what I mean!" hissed Kiyora.


    "What do you want me to say, Kiyora?" asked William. "She was part of a raid. She took a captive as a slave. She decided to keep that slave for herself. I don''t see what your problem is?"


    "My problem is that slavery is wrong," said Kiyora.


    William stared at her as though she had grown a second head. "Kiyora, I have no idea what you are talking about. Slavery isn''t wrong or right. It''s just something that can happen."


    "Would you want to be enslaved?" asked Kiyora.


    "Of course not," said William. "But I don''t want to be stabbed to death either. That doesn''t mean there aren''t situations where killing someone is justified." He paused. "Look, I don''t like what Tanith is doing either; she''s changed a lot since she left Carn Gable. But she isn''t doing anything she doesn''t have a right to.


    "I''m not going to destroy years of friendship because she''s picked up a few bad habits."


    Bad habits? As if Tanith was smoking cigarettes outside the gates of the school. Kiyora was about to let William have it when suddenly the doors opened, and into the room came the herald. They quickly hurried back to their place.


    "The Envoy Emira, daughter of Suloth." said the herald.


    "Suloth?" asked Kiyora.


    "A son of Baltoth," said William. "The greatest of Baltoth''s children. How do you not know this?"


    She walked into the room, clad in flowing brown robes and wearing a concealing mask of gold. She was skinny and held an ornate silver scimitar by her side. Behind her was a muscular servant carrying a large wooden box.


    She bowed her head as she reached the throne. "Greetings to you, noble Vanion. I have walked from the Capital of Ruscow after King Banir brought your message. The Emperor Baltoth has considered your offer and has bidden me provide a gift in turn."


    "Why is she talking directly?" asked Kiyora.


    "In this situation, he is the servant, speaking for her master, Baltoth," said William.


    "Oh, right," said Kiyora.


    The box was put on the step and set down. Vanion made his way downward, and it was opened. He recoiled at what he saw, and there was a gasp. There, in the box, lay the head of King Banir. His expression was one of agony.


    "What is the meaning of this?!" said Vanion.


    "The Inexorable Baltoth salutes your heroic defiance," said Emira. "And approves of your wisdom to negotiate in the face of inevitable defeat. However, he asks that you not insult his intelligence by claiming Banir as a worthy opponent. The Emperor knows who serves him well and who squanders his resources.


    "The failure was Banir''s, and no credit falls upon him or his line for what you gave freely.


    "The Emperor Baltoth accepts your most generous offer."


    Vanion mastered himself. "Then, I shall accept this gift in the spirit of which it was given. I would ask that mercy be shown upon Banir''s daughter. She fought valiantly in service of her Emperor."


    "Rest assured, the Emperor knows who serves him," said Emira.


    "Please accept our hospitality for the night," said Vanion. "And when you return to your Emperor, tell him I apologize for my deception. In war, one must seek every advantage."


    "Of course," said Emira. "Baltoth understands the laws of war all too well."


    "Now," said Vanion, "I would ask that my closest advisors and I be left to speak alone."


    At these words, everyone filed out, speaking about what had happened. Emiran rose and departed without a word as Vanion looked at the head. Eventually, the remaining people were Raynald, Rusara, Vanion, William, and Kiyora. They and a servant, Vanion, took them by the shoulder to have him stay.


    Vanion waited until the room was almost empty. Then he let his anger show. "Barbarism!" He looked to the servant. "Sunthred, find some priests of Baltoth. See to it that King Banir be cremated with all proper funeral rights. And bring word to the satyr messengers. Tell them we will come to their aid."


    "At least we have a truce," said Rusara.


    "Yes, that is fortunate," said Vanion. "It frees up our soldiers for more important matters."


    "Father, what could be more important than the vendetta of the gods?" asked William.


    Vanion looked up in surprise at the voice, blinked twice, and recognized his son. "Ensuring our allies don''t fall," said Vanion. "Raynald. I want you and Rusara to take the forces we set aside and make for the highlands at once. Take William with you.


    "William, you will learn by their example."


    "Of course, Father," said William.


    "Right," said Kiyora, "well, I guess I''ll-" Then she found herself drawn upwards. "Oh, so now I''m waking up!" This was so typical!

 Chapter Eighteen: Nothing the Same

    Kiyora opened her eyes to find herself staring at a featureless white ceiling. There was a clean, clinical-like smell you got in hospitals. She was lying on a comfortable bed with a window to her left slightly ajar. Mom was sitting in a chair to her right. She sat up. "Mom?"


    Immediately, she hugged her.


    "Kiyora, you''re awake," said Mom, voice choking. "Thank goodness." Her arms wrapped around Kiyora tightly. There was no malice this time.


    Kiyora pulled back. "Are you alright?" she asked. "I mean, he isn''t still here, is he?"


    "No, he''s gone," said Mom. "And I should be the one asking if you are alright. You''ve been sleeping for so long. I''m so sorry, Kiyora! I... I don''t know what came over me! I didn''t mean to do it!"


    "Mom, don''t worry about it," said Kiyora. "It wasn''t you who tried to kill me; it was Wraith. What happened?"


    Mom paused, and her gaze turned to the clock. "It has been nearly a week since you were asleep. The doctors said your body was completely exhausted, and we feared you would never wake up. Things have been in absolute chaos, to be honest.


    "Everyone just woke up the day after and found themselves in places they hadn''t been before. It was a miracle no one was killed, but business ground to a halt for a day or two. The stock market took a significant hit as well.


    "Your Father hasn''t been able to paint anything all this time.


    "I''m babbling, aren''t I?"


    "What about Laurus?" asked Kiyora. "Is he alright?"


    "He''s fine," said Mom. "They found him near you. The medical team said that the possession was powerful on him. Even so, he made a full recovery. Kiyora, I..."


    "Yes?" asked Kiyora.


    "Things are going to be very different now," said Mom.


    "What do you mean?" asked Mom.


    "The doctors detected enormous magical energy in your blood," said Mom. "Far more than is normal, even for our family. That was why you were in a coma; all that power unleashed through you was more than your body could handle.


    "Some very important people want to speak with you."


    "What kinds of people?" asked Kiyora.


    "We shouldn''t be talking about this now," said Mom. "I''ll tell you about it later. I just... never mind. I''ll ensure our life is smooth, but you can''t argue with the Emperor when he decides.


    "For now, he hasn''t made it yet."


    "The Emperor?" said Kiyora. "You mean I''ve come to the attention of the Royal Family?"


    But Mom wouldn''t say any more on the subject no matter how she asked and turned the issue to other things. They left the hospital within the hour and after some minor checkups. On the way back, Kiyora looked out the window of Mom''s car. She saw people on the side of the street, walking around as though nothing had happened. It was very disturbing. Was it possible that they had all been possessed?


    The way everyone had forgotten it was downright uncanny. Much how everyone had forgotten about the last time Wraith was around. What was the Royal Family doing to cover it up this time?


    "The newspapers are talking about a chemical accident," said Mom. "Supposedly, a terrorist group slipped drugs into the meds. I think we both know that isn''t what happened."


    "Have they repaired the school yet?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes, the repairs finished a few days ago," said Mom. "You should be able to attend school as early as tomorrow."


    "Damn," said Kiyora, "I was hoping I''d get at least one day off."


    Mom smiled. "Well, we could always hope for another accident." She paused as they approached the house. "And there is your Father, painting again. Or trying at any rate."


    As Kiyora exited the car and went up the terrace, she saw Dad painting. His expression was dark, and his face was pale. His dark hair was concerned as he drew pictures of untold horrors. The things on the canvas were something other than what Kiyora liked looking at, and she focused on Dad.


    "Dad, are you alright?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes. I just... I felt him inside my head," said Dad. "Nothing is quite the same now, you understand?"


    "I know," She glanced at the painting and recognized something. "Hey, that''s Arsheen!"


    "Arsheen?" asked Dad. "Yes, that was the name I had in mind for it. A city under siege by an evil spirit."


    "It was Laughing Wraith," said Kiyora. "I saw this city like this in my dreams."


    "Well, we must have had the same vision then," mused Dad. "That means it exists for sure." It would have been cheering, but Kiyora had already known that. And if Arsheen existed, that also meant all the bad things were real.


    "I guess it does," said Kiyora. "I''m going to call Laurus and see if he is okay."


    "Alright," said Mom, "how about we go out to eat tonight, okay?"


    "That sounds wonderful to me, dear," said Dad.


    "I like it," said Kiyora. "Hey, maybe I can invite Laurus and the others. Is that okay?"


    "Of course it is," said Mom. "Though they might be busy."


    Kiyora went inside and made the call. After waiting for a moment, the phone picked up. "Hello?" said Laurus in a tired voice.


    "Hey, Laurus," said Kiyora. "It''s Kiyora."


    "Hey," said Laurus. "I um... I don''t know what to say here."


    "Forget about it," said Kiyora. "It wasn''t your fault what happened."


    "I know, but, um, my mom she, she''s afraid she''ll lose her job," said Laurus. "The Department of Spiritual Defense has been asking many questions."


    "Have you talked to Gisora?" asked Kiyora. "Her family might be able to pull some strings."


    "Yes, I have, but..." Laurus paused, "this is all my fault, to begin with. I''m sorry. I''m so sorry!"


    "Stop it," said Kiyora. "You were possessed."


    "No, I wasn''t," choked Laurus. "I mean, I couldn''t feel him the way everyone else could. Other people have forgotten what they were doing at the time. I remember everything, Kiyora! Serving him was like breathing; I didn''t even know I was doing it.


    "Not until the end, anyway."


    "Well, it wasn''t you," said Kiyora. "So stop beating yourself up over it. I spent a week in a coma because of him, so if I don''t blame you, no one else has any business doing it."


    "Okay," said Laurus. "I, uh, don''t know what to say here. Um, I think I''m going to go to bed early. I''ll see you tomorrow."


    "Wait," said Kiyora, not wanting to end things like this. Do you want to go out to eat with my parents and me?


    "I, uh, I don''t feel too well," said Laurus. "Sorry."


    "Right," said Kiyora, disappointed. "See you then."


    As he hung up, Kiyora looked at the phone. Mom''s hinting about things being about to change for her was getting on Kiyora''s nerves. She wanted information, and suddenly, she knew how to get it. She made another call, and Gisora picked up. "Hello?"


    "Hey, Gisora," said Kiyora.


    "Kiyora, you''re awake! Thank Alchara," said Gisora. "Um, are you okay?"


    "Fine," said Kiyora. "Listen, I was wondering if you could look into something for me."


    "What is it?" asked Gisora.


    "Well, Mom keeps hinting at how everything will change for me. It has something to do with the Royal Family," said Kiyora. "But she isn''t telling me anything, and I was wondering if you could look into it for me."


    "Why would I be able to tell if anything will change for you?" asked Gisora in bemusement.


    "Oh, right," said Kiyora. "Um, Mom says I''m a Princess. See, she distanced herself from the Royal Family."


    "Oh. Okay. I guess that makes sense," said Gisora. "I''ll see what I can find out."


    "Thanks," said Kiyora. "You''re the best, Gisora."


    "I''ll go do that now," said Gisora.


    "Oh, one more thing," said Kiyora, "Mom, Dad, and I are going out to eat. We were wondering if you might want to come with us?"


    "Sure," said Gisora. "It sounds fun. Are we going to invite anyone else?"


    "Well, I was planning to invite Laurus," said Kiyora. "But he doesn''t want to go. I haven''t called Reya yet."


    "Right, well, I''ll come," said Gisora. "It''ll be nice to talk."


    Reya, as it turned out, had things to do. Thus, it was just Kiyora, Gisora, and her parents. The restaurant was great, and Kiyora found herself hungrier than ever before. The food was delicious, and the music was good. They talked about all kinds of things, from art to gossip. Eventually, they finished their meal and dropped Gisora off.


    Kiyora found herself exhausted as she got back home. She slumped as she walked through the door. "Ugh, I am so beat. I''m going to bed."


    When she dreamed, she found herself back in Seathorius that night. She was by the ocean for another change of pace. It was beautiful with how it gushed against the white-sand shores. Looking around, Kiyora realized she was in a village of otters.


    Privately, she had always found otters to be very cute. However, she knew better than to say as much. Mainly when there were a great many of them with halberds. They were standing guard over a meeting of dwarves by a pier. She approached the dwarves and saw Bjorn there. He stood up and nodded to her. "Dreaming Goddess, you honor us by your presence at this momentous event."


    "Of course," said Kiyora. "I would not miss it for the world." She paused as she got near. "Erm, Bjorn, what is the event?''


    "Your priests are about to depart upon their ship to Artarq," said Bjorn. "Will you speak to them?"


    He motioned to the shoreline. There were three ships in the distance bearing the golden cobra of House Gabriel. There were also many otter vessels. In particular, one which a group of white-robed Nakmar was standing by.


    Oh, right, she was a goddess. She had to say something. Suddenly, Kiyora felt very conscientious. Which was weird; she''d never felt awkward like this before. Then again, she''d always thought of it as a dream before. "Right, yes. I really appreciate you guys leaving your homes to represent my eternal glory. Don''t do malas, and know I will be watching over you."


    "A stirring speech," said Bjorn without a hint of irony.


    "Look, I speak through actions, okay," said Kiyora. "Actions are what matter. What you do to people is real. What you say to people is the dream. I''m no good at speeches."


    Surprisingly, the priests seemed to take what she said very seriously. Someone was writing all this down. Kiyora had the feeling that she could have said anything literally. They would have still regarded it as profound. As the ship was boarded and set off, an otter with white fur came forward. He wore a red doublet and a red cap with a feather, which he removed and put over his heart as he bowed.


    "Greetings to you, milady. I am Rufos of the Otters," said the white otter. What an honor to meet one of your esteemed benevolence in the flesh!


    "Sure, I guess," said Kiyora. "Anything I can do to help?"


    "In truth, I am here to tell you of your counterpart. The Queen of the Satyrs has come to deliver her end of the bargain," said Rufos. "That was what she said."


    "Mistress of all Seathorius?" asked Kiyora. "Who is-"


    At that moment, the Mirror of Laevain landed in front of her, gripped by the demoness from before. Her tail was whipping in irritation. Kiyora felt that the crescent blade at the end of it could take out an eye.


    "A petty title, paling compared to my unbridled true power," said the demoness. "Even so, I am content. I allow myself to be called as such. Purely to indulge those too feeble-minded to comprehend my incomprehensible glory."


    "Oh, you again," said Kiyora.


    This reaction seemed to annoy her. "Yes, I have come to deliver what you requested. Behold the Mirror of Laevian. I wouldn''t recommend taking the tarp off. It tends to disturb those of a weak mind."


    "Wait, you''re giving me the mirror?" asked Kiyora in surprise.


    "But of course!" said the demoness. "I made a deal and thus am bound by its conditions. Contracts are significant, you know. My word is my bond. Or would be if anything could contain my infinite majesty."


    "Huh, I assumed you''d try to assassinate me," admitted Kiyora.


    The demoness smiled. "I would not try it. I would merely do it. But if I killed you, someone competent might take the reigns. If you will excuse me, I have arrangements abroad to handle. Good day."


    And she flew off. Bjorn watched her go. "Dreaming Goddess?"


    "Yeah?" asked Kiyora.


    "Might I ask why you decided to demand the Mirror of Laevian from her?" asked Bjorn.


    "I dunno," admitted Kiyora. "It seemed like a pretty cool artifact; I figured I''d ask for it."


    "Yes, but what use can we put it to?" asked Bjorn.


    "Um, well, uh..." Kiyora was drawing a blank here. "I''ll level with you; I didn''t think this far ahead. Um, what do you think?"


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "Our situation with the satyrs is stable." mused Bjorn. "However, in time, we may have to fight them. When that time comes, we might be able to count on an outside power for aid."


    "Who?" asked Kiyora.


    "We could give the Mirror of Laevian to Baltoth," said Bjorn. "He would surely look favorably upon such a gift."


    "Won''t that piss off the Harlenorian Kingdoms?" asked Kiyora.


    "It will likely make them less than pleased with us." mused Bjorn. "Still, since Calisha is the heir to the Dust Elven Empire of old. One could argue that the Mirror of Laevian belongs to them."


    "Not sure Harlenor is going to care what our justification is, frankly," said Kiyora. "Or Calisha, for that matter. Hey, how about we sell it? Have an auction, and whoever gives us the most money gets the mirror."


    Bjorn looked at her.


    "Oh, come on!" said Kiyora. "Money is good."


    "May I make a suggestion, Dreaming Goddess?" asked Rufos.


    "Sure, go ahead, Rufos," said Kiyora.


    "We otters are a neutral people," said Rufos. "We prefer to keep to ourselves and provide services to dwarf and satyr. Many ships stop by our ports to trade and resupply en route to Artarq or further down the coastline."


    "So?" asked Kiyora.


    "Why don''t we build a shrine here in Port Otter?" asked Rufos. "I''ll pay for it myself, and it shall give glory to all the gods of Seathorius, Laevian included. We shall spread this word, and pilgrims will come to see it. We will allow them to enter and look into the mirror for a small donation.


    "This is already a major trade route. We''ll all be wealthy very quickly."


    "I looked into that Mirror once," said Kiyora. "It showed me who I was. It wasn''t exactly fun." The funny part was she could hardly remember what she''d seen.


    "What does entertainment have to do with knowledge?" asked Rufos. "Many shall come from all over in pursuit of the wisdom it offers."


    "That would make quite a profit. Yet it would also make the mirror a target," said Bjorn. "I doubt the demoness will restrain herself from stealing it back."


    "Fine, then we give her a third of the profits," said Kiyora.


    "Hmm?" asked Bjorn, staring.


    "Port Otter builds the shrine, so they get a share," said Kiyora. "The Mirror is mine, so I get a share, and the demoness found the mirror, so she gets a share. We split the profits three ways. That way, everyone wants the shrine to keep getting business.


    "It''ll be a tourist attraction."


    "Tourist?" asked Rufos.


    "I mean a pilgrim attraction." amended Kiyora.


    "I''d rather we don''t share profits with the demoness," said Bjorn. "The Mirror is ours; why should she get a share?"


    "We''re at peace with her, right?" asked Kiyora. "If she attacks us, she''ll lose the money from the shrine. Which means she has an economic incentive not to rock the boat."


    "At the very least, it should make her hesitant to attack you." mused Rufos. "And few things are better for business than peace. Other than war, I suppose."


    Bjorn considered it. "It may work. Yet, what would we use the money for?"


    "Bjorn," said Kiyora, "I''m not exactly one for nitty-gritty details. Just talk it out with King Wiglaf. Find something productive and useful to do with it all. And we can spend it improving my temples and stuff."


    "I will look into it," said Bjorn.


    "Anyway," said Kiyora, "I am awesome. I''m going to tell William about this, okay? You handle the details."


    "As you-"


    Kiyora departed in a flash. She saw William standing on top of a cliff, looking down. She ran up to him as quickly as she could. "Hey, William, I had this great- Um..." She trailed off. She had just noticed that he was standing in the presence of Lord Raynald and Lady Rusara. They were looking over a table with a map, speaking with armored men and satyrs. There was tense air around them, and a huge army was a little further down the hill.


    Men and satyrs stood grim and determined, awaiting the coming of some unknown enemy. William looked up from where he was sharpening his sword with mild irritation.


    "I''m guessing you''re busy," said Kiyora. Mother had been bedridden for the past few days. She didn''t look happy about the fact, even if she was months pregnant. William entered the room, keeping his helmet slung under one arm as he approached. She looked up at him with narrowed eyes.


    "Mother, I''m going," said William. "I thought I''d come to say goodbye."


    "Vanion has told me of your exploits during battle," said Mother. "Would that I had been there.


    "Unfortunately, it has been too long since my spear was driven home into the breast of an enemy. Even so, I am glad you played a part in the victory. You should seek to be part of the combat in this coming fight. In the field of battle, with a sword on sword, that is where true glory is.


    "Everything else is merely preparation. I fear your Father has never understood that."


    "I''m sure Raynald will place me wherever I need to be," said William. He wasn''t about to tell her he had no desire to ever be in combat again.


    "If he does not place you in the thick of the fighting, you should request it," said Mother. "There is where you will earn your place as a warrior."


    "I understand," said William.


    "I wish I were coming with you," said Azgora. "However, your brother and sister keep me here."


    "Brother and sister?" asked William.


    "Yes, the priests tell me I will bear twins," said Azgora. "I am glad to have a daughter finally. I am still proud of you, of course."


    "Thank you, Mother," said William, not at all sure of what to say. "I should go."


    As he made his way down to the courtyard, he tried to ignore the weight of his armor. He far preferred his lighter chain shirt to this, even if it didn''t afford nearly as much protection. Kiyora''s concern about the appearance of it was one he shared privately, but Rusara had chosen it. Inspiring fear was an essential part of Dust Elven warfare, or so William had been taught by Rusara.


    He pulled his black cloak closer around him as he entered the courtyard and found Tanith waiting. "Ready?" she asked.


    "Yes," said William. "Though the armor is heavy."


    "Get used to it," said Tanith. "You''ll be wearing it for a while."


    "Yes, yes," said William.


    "What''s the harp for anyway?" asked Tanith.


    "Oh, this?" said William, looking at the harp hanging under his crimson cloak. "It''s for Massacre."


    "The chimera is coming?" asked Tanith, sounding impressed.


    "Yes," said William. "The only reason she didn''t come with us in the first place was that she is a child of Typhos. Our mission ran contrary to Typhos'' interests. She''ll help our chances with this, though."


    "Right," said Tanith doubtfully. "Where are Felix and the chimera anyway?"


    "Felix is concluding some business deals," said William. "Massacre went with him."


    "Yours?" asked Tanith.


    "No, his own," said William. "Still, it isn''t like Felix to be late."


    "Well, he isn''t late yet," said Tanith.


    There was a long silence. William searched for something to say. "Tanith, what was being in battle like for you?"


    "Oh, it was fun," said Tanith.


    "Fun?" asked William. "I thought you were just blustering when you said that before."


    "I meant every word," said Tanith. "The best time I''ve ever had. I remember I hit one of them in the face with my sword. He screamed until I hit him again and caved in his skull. I remember the sensation of my blood pumping as I hacked and slashed my way through them. I wish I could have felt that way forever."


    "Are you sure that''s healthy?" asked William. "Enjoying ending another''s life?"


    "You''re worse than Raynald," muttered Tanith. "Of course, it''s healthy. War is how Haldrenians prove themselves worthy of their titles. It has been since there has been a Haldren. Killing Calishans is our duty. So how can it be wrong to enjoy doing what Elranor wants us to do?"


    "I''m not sure Elranor has a grudge against Calishans," said William. "So much as Baltoth."


    "Is that why you saved the Calishans, then?" asked Tanith, an edge in her voice.


    "My father had a use for Banir," said William. "And I thought capturing a King of Calisha would be glorious." He knew it was a lie.


    "Really? And his minions?" asked Tanith.


    "I almost drowned once, Tanith," said William. "I watched Felix almost drown. It isn''t something I''d wish on my worst enemies."


    "They''re Calishans," said Tanith.


    "Yes, and if I''m ever captured by one, I''d rather not be executed out of hand," said William. "Having a reputation for benevolence to one''s defeated enemies can help one''s chances. Not every battle is a victory."


    "I guess," said Tanith. "You sound just like Duke Vanion, you know. I remember Raynald, and he argued."


    "What about?" asked William.


    "Raynald wanted to execute every prisoner who wasn''t worth anything. Then we''d ransom the rest," said Tanith. "Send a message to Calisha."


    "Well, that sounds like Raynald." said William, "I think I know what Father''s response was."


    At that moment, Felix and Massacre got back. The Calishan boy approached, throwing his violet cloak behind him. "I''m sorry I wasn''t here sooner. Some unexpected business came up."


    "Don''t worry about it," said Tanith. "So, you sat in on a negotiation between Duke Vanion and King Banir. What''d they talk about?"


    "For the most part, Duke Vanion flattered him, offered him generous terms, and got him to leave," said Felix.


    "That''s all?" asked Tanith.


    "More or less," said Felix. "It was some time ago, but Vanion held all the cards. It wasn''t exciting."


    "And here I''d hoped there had been some secret negotiations," said Tanith. "Ah well, can''t argue with total victory. And the bastard ended up dead anyway, so all ends well."


    "Don''t concern yourself with it," said William. "Let''s focus on what we can affect. Let''s get outside the gates before Raynald sends a search party."


    They began their walk. As they did, Tanith looked thoughtful. "I don''t understand why we made friends with the satyrs up north anyway."


    "Surely you must have read the history," said William.


    "I''ve dropped out of reading history. Mostly since signing up with Lord Marn," said Tanith, which was no excuse since they''d been taught it. How much had she forgotten?


    "Well, fortunately for you, I have not," said William. "Khasmir is of strategic importance. If the Calishans were to gain control of it, they could move their armies across the river. They could then head south over the northern frontier. They know it, and we know it. That''s why we must support our allies in the region."


    "I don''t see why we couldn''t just kill all the satyrs," said Tanith. "Then, once they were dead, we could move our colonists in."


    "The Calishans would have an easy time marching through graveyards," mused William. Note to self: appeals to pragmatism had a more significant effect than an appeal to one''s conscience.


    "Oh right," said Tanith. "It would be pretty hard to hold that region by ourselves. So, who are our allies again?"


    "We''re allied with the Fireeyes Clan and their vassals," said William. "They converted to worship Elranor some years ago, and their leader was educated in Antion. The Bloodhowlers are a group who worship Baltoth, originally from Seathorius. We can be grateful that they are the smallest Khasmir factions."


    "I don''t understand why they didn''t cross the river near their allies, then head south," said Tanith.


    "They could have," said William. "But we''d have heard about it. And all the other clans would have allied to fight off a hostile invasion. Once we came with reinforcements, they would face a far larger army than before."


    "Well, what about the worshippers of Fortenex?" asked Tanith. "The ones we fought before."


    "They are a minority of the neutral clans long at war with the worshippers of Kreshlak," said William. "I suspect they allied with Wraith in the hopes of tipping the scales in their favor."


    "Who worships Kreshlak?" asked Tanith.


    "Everyone except the worshippers of Fortenex," said William. "Viokin traders spread his worship well before we even owned Artarq. You see, this was before the Viokin Wars and-"


    "Okay, okay, whatever," said Tanith. "I remember reading about all this in Carn Gable. It''s coming back to me. The Viokins had a stint of sending missionaries out to other lands."


    "If you don''t want the answer to your questions, you shouldn''t ask them, Tanith," said William.


    "Just tell me who I need to stab when I need to stab them, okay," said Tanith. "I know history is important, but I have no talent for it. I''m better at languages. Still, I can learn more about this feud between Kreshlak and Fortenex.


    "Worth noting about in my journal."


    "As you wish," said William, feeling a twinge of irritation. She never used to have this little regard for her education.


    The army traveled north on the road for several days. William spent much of his spare time helping the priests heal people. The men who got injured or sick along the route were grateful. They didn''t run into anything serious, of course. Yet, in an army of thousands, someone was permanently getting injured.


    He had a limited amount of spare time. Raynald and Rusara were making all kinds of day-to-day decisions. William watched these, observed, and tried to learn as best he could. Most of them were dreary, such as the placement of latrines or the organization of the camp. But he knew such decisions were critical, so he held his tongue and listened.


    At night, he would play his music for Massacre. Yet he found that his music became something of an event. Many of the women in the army came to listen, as well. He found he enjoyed the attention.


    Before long, they had passed by the castle of Lord Asimir, now under the management of Sarris. The wall had been partially repaired, and they took shelter there for the night. The land, however, had begun to change. The grass was turning to a more pleasant shade, and the area seemed far less harsh.


    "It seems that Elranor is extending his influence over this place at last," said Raynald. "Good. I was tired of Baltoth holding territory in a land that belongs to Harlenor."


    "I have always found Elranor''s domains to be far too tame," mused Rusara.


    The following day they pressed on to Khasmir.


    The ground grew steadily rougher, and the air far colder. The trees here were twisted and low to the ground, while vegetation was hard to come by. Once or twice, William saw mountain goats wandering the landscape. Several were hunted for meals by soldiers when they did not flee quickly enough.


    Kreshlak''s will soon become known, and travel injuries became more common. It also began to rain more, and the wind was always howling. William spent much time healing those who fell or became severely cold. A few fell into frozen rivers, and he could not save them all. It had taken constant effort to keep them alive until Rusara''s fire could warm them.


    "Now, do you see why we brought all that heavy clothing?" asked William.


    "Yes, yes," Tanith said, pulling her cloak closer, "this is even worse than Baltoth''s domain. How can anyone stand it?"


    "Baltoth and Kreshlak both share the philosophy that hardship creates strength," said Felix. "The difference is Baltoth appreciates the benefits of an advanced civilization. Kreshlak would prefer it if everyone lived in yurts and hit each other with axes all day."


    "I would keep such opinions to yourself," William warned him. "Those who dwell here may be of a different mind." He looked at Felix. "I''m surprised, though; I didn''t know you held him in such contempt."


    "Kreshlak is in many ways the antithesis of my beliefs," said Felix. "Professing a meaningless warrior code and condemning the use of cunning and cooperation. As if brute force was the source of power."


    "And what is the source of power?" asked William, curious as to his answer.


    "Your ability to achieve your objectives," said Felix. "If you accomplish what you set out to do, then you are powerful. If you fail, you are not. Power is one''s ability to enforce one''s will upon a universe that defies you. Everything else is merely window dressing.


    "Look at Duke Vanion. He is physically inferior to both Raynald and Lady Azgora. He needs to gain more skill in magic to compare to Rusara. And yet he is the most powerful person in this land."


    "I never heard you speak this way," mused William. "Is this a personal philosophy?"


    "No," said Felix. "It has a basis in my holy texts."


    "Your holy texts?" asked Tanith in amusement. "What are you, a god?"


    "I mean to say the holy texts that the Duke had stored in Carn Gable''s library," said Felix quickly. "You see, he purchased several texts written by Baltoth and put them away. However, aside from the Duke, I was the only person who ever read them, so I felt like they were mine."


    "Yes, I remember those," said William. "I always meant to read them but never got around to it. I''m surprised you liked them so much. Considering-" William stopped as he realized he had nearly opened up old wounds.


    Felix did not show any distress other than looking a bit melancholy. "What Baltoth did to my family was not personal. It was merely the law, and he was enforcing it. Ruthless punishment of those who steal from the crown keeps others from doing the same."


    "You know, I''ve been saying that for years," said Tanith. She had not.


    Soon, they began to pass villages of satyrs, always on hilltops and surrounded by walls. The people came out to watch them warily, holding weapons. Their warriors kept their guard up, and someone blew a horn. Another followed the horn. Then, it was answered by another two calls somewhere in the difference.


    "A warning sign," mused Tanith.


    "Yes," said Raynald, who had been walking along the lines. "The Fireeyes clan has a very organized series of warning systems. Each village chief has four horns: one for the north, one for the south, one for the east, and one for the west. They blow one or two of them to signify the direction of the enemy army. Then the other villages blow their horns when they hear it."


    "Wouldn''t it be much simpler to light a signal fire?" asked Felix.


    "It would," admitted Raynald. "Relg always was fond of making things too complicated for his good."


    They passed several other villages and heard several more horn calls. Raynald listened to them and frowned. After a moment, he looked at them.


    "North," said Raynald. "There is an army approaching from the north."


    "Are you sure?" asked William. "I mean, suppose a village south of here saw an army approaching them from the north? Then the army would be to the south."


    "Wouldn''t some other villages have warned them beforehand?" asked Tanith. "You know, before the army got south of us."


    "This system is complicated to the point of being useless," mused Felix.


    "Oh, I forgot to mention something," said Raynald. "The horn calls don''t say whether they are north, south, east, or west of the village. They say they are north, south, east, or west of Kynn."


    "What is Kynn?" asked Tanith.


    "The most formidable fortress in Khasmir," said Raynald. "Armies have broken on it like the sea against cliffs. It''s probably the only worthwhile thing the satyrs ever made."


    "It is the capital of our allies in Khasmir," said William.


    Some hours later, they came within sight of their destination. It sat at the top of a cliff, with the southern side a sheer cliff and only one possible area of the approach. William felt climbing would be difficult, even for him and Felix.


    The fortress looked like it had been assembled with a plan or idea of its shape. The towers were all at different heights, though they were tall. The stonework was of several styles, chipped and cracked in many places. Satyrs patrolled it with bows.


    "So that''s the fortress," said William. "Not nearly so impressive as I thought it would be."


    "That''s Kynn?" asked Tanith. "It doesn''t look very well defended." sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "That is because the army is over there," said Felix.


    The cliff had hidden the army, but now they could see it. It was quite large, though it still needed to improve in numbers to their own. The satyrs within it were clad in leather and wielded axes and shields. No scimitars could be seen like their cousins in Seathorius used. They also looked a bit shorter and bulkier.


    Raynald, at this moment, approached. "William, I''m going to meet with Relg. You will accompany me. Rusara will be in command in my absence."


    "You don''t think they''ll betray us?" asked William.


    "I have no good reason to think they will," said Raynald. "But who knows what these satyr animals will get up to on a whim? I''m not taking any chances. Besides, we might come under attack while meeting with them."


    The satyrs had a similar idea. Their leaders came forward with a white flag at around the same time. The two groups marched to meet each other, and William saw the satyr leader, Relg, he guessed. He was taller than his brethren and thinner, too. His eyes were dark, and his fur was black as night. He wore a long brown cloak around metal armor. He bowed his head as Raynald approached. "Lord Raynald De Chevlon. News of your victories in battle has reached across the world. I am glad that a great warrior has come to our aid."


    "I thank you, Chieftain Relg Fireeyes," said Raynald, none of his disdain in his voice. "We men of Harlenor always honor our debts and remember our friends long after we have been forgotten. What troubles you?"


    "Many of the neutral clans have been united in common cause against us," said Relg. "We feared they would attack us, and our fears have borne fruit. Even as we speak, they march toward us. We will need your steel on this day to gain victory."


    "You have it," said Raynald. "My men and their arms are as one with yours."


    "Then together we shall slaughter our enemies!" said Relg. "Let us bring our officers together and make our plans upon this ground."


    "It shall be so," said Raynald.


    After they had separated, William looked to Raynald. "Why wouldn''t Relg have his army within Kynn, Raynald? It seems a waste to leave the fortress unoccupied when he is there."


    "Kynn is his great advantage," said Raynald. "And satyrs know nothing of loyalty. Most of that army comes from Relg''s vassals. If he let them in, they might never leave. So he would much rather confront his enemies far afield and fall back to Kynn if he suffers a defeat."


    "I see," said William. "He is very well-spoken, isn''t he?"


    "Relg was educated in Antion. He speaks Harlenorian with perfect clarity," said Raynald. "It doesn''t make him any less of a satyr."


    Duly noted.

 Chapter Nineteen: Beasts of Hell

    It was about midday when the army was assembled in full. Their banners upraised and spears glinting in the sun. Of course, the landscape had changed from frozen windswept to sweltering. Kreshlak had decided on a change of scenery. However, their equipment was equally effective by his will. The army that had been assembled was far more significant. It was definitely larger than the one sent against the Calishans. More mercenaries had arrived, swelling the number of Harlenorians to almost seven thousand. And many more were behind, gathering in hopes of a long war. The auxiliaries of Artarqian spearmen were swelled by new blood. Many had finished their training and were now considered ready.


    Once they had been two thousand, they were four times that at eight thousand. Each one had been given winter clothing that had now been cast off. They bore spears and large shields and were on the flanks, having paid for their equipment. William wondered if they would be of any use to justify their pay. Father had to supply them and provide them wages for each week of service. The additional profits from selling to Calisha would help here.


    But would it be enough? It would take some time to establish things.


    There were also Dust Elves, in the same numbers and equipment as before. Dust Elves never committed their entire force to a battle. Elves preferred to avoid large-scale wars because replacing them would take so long. And wars of attrition were right out, especially if they were in foreign lands they did not know. Rusara had sent merchants to learn the lay of the ground many decades ago so they were not blind. Yet, by and large, their guides were satyrs, which was worrying.


    These archers had been supplemented by skirmishers drawn up from Artarq''s population. Men clad in light armor at best, with small shields and bearing slings for the most part. They needed to be better to afford the equipment necessary for the spear ranks. William had spent time healing some among them and talked to them. Most had little chance of glory or profit in Artarq and sought adventure and power. Even so, they had been trained, and slings could be as deadly as any sword. They numbered three thousand, which meant the army numbered about nineteen thousand.


    Which was then enhanced by the warbands that Relg had drawn up, nearly nine thousand. Though that was a guess, Tanith made it based on campfires. So, twenty-eight thousand in total, and caravans of supplies would have to feed them. With the disease threats, William had spent much time working with priests to keep the army alive. Laevian was a constant companion on the road, in one way or another.


    Getting water was difficult here, and men were being sent out to fetch from wells for miles. Barrels were being brought in as well, filled with supplies. But many of them were eaten almost as soon as they arrived.


    William only prayed that Barden would likewise be beside their caravans. A few days of hunger would turn this rescuing army into a menace.


    "This is what Kreshlak does," said Raynald in irritation. He looked up reports on logistics. "He''s never let continuity get in the way of a given battlefield. I just pray he isn''t going to have ice spirits make fun of our caravans."


    "How do they raise crops here?" asked William.


    "There are designated fertile areas that are exempt from change. It is forbidden to fight there," said Raynald. "Fighting on his terrain is always a miserable experience. He prefers appearances over convenience."


    Raynald had ordered them to take a position on a hill, pitching their camps. The location overlooked a barren and rocky pass that came in from the north. With the army arrayed down before them, the leaders began discussing plans.


    "Lord Raynald," said Tanith, "why here?"


    "This area is of strategic importance, Tanith," said Raynald. "This is the pass of the Sacred, where the worshippers of Elranor stopped an invasion. If not for the ambush that Relg''s ancestor set, the faith of Elranor could have been wiped away overnight.


    "That was back when the Calishans controlled Artarq and were a menace to the people here. They have a holiday here to mark the day."


    "What is a holiday?" asked William.


    "It''s a stupid waste of time that inferior cultures use as an excuse not to work," said Tanith. "You pick a major victory and declare no one has to work on that day."


    "That is the most foolish thing I''ve ever heard," said William. "You can slack off any time if you want to pay the price."


    "Some people are just different," said Raynald. "Elranor has no holidays, and neither does Baltoth. We celebrate victory and nothing else.


    "But it doesn''t matter.


    "If the worshippers of Kreshlak decide to invade, they must go through here. Either that or journey a long way to the west or east and go around. That will take them through Calishan territory. They may be able to keep their supplies up that long anyway.


    "No, they will come through here.


    "When they do, we''ll break their army. From there, we can begin our invasion."


    "Yes, I know that," said Tanith, "I meant, why did we set up our camp here when there are some good trees over there? We''ll use a lot more water this way."


    "We have a clear view of the battlefield here," said Raynald. "So the sorcerers will just have to work at drawing water a bit harder than usual. A quick response time is essential. If the men can see the enemy coming through, they''ll be in more of a hurry."


    "So is conserving supplies," said Tanith.


    "Raynald, Tanith dear, I think you''re missing the point," said Rusara. "We weren''t ordered to invade the worshippers of Kreshlak."


    "We''re not going to try and hold any ground," said Raynald. "Once we break their army, we''ll press our advantage and ransack the countryside. We''ll enslave people, steal everything we can get our hands on, and burn the rest."


    "I doubt I''ll find any worthwhile slaves in Khasmir," muttered Tanith. "Satyr women aren''t much to look at." There were murmurs of agreement from the other officers.


    "Cheer up," said Raynald, "there must be something worth looting in this place. You can usually turn a profit from war; you need to look in the right place."


    "Unfortunately, you''ll have to be content with your pay, Tanith," said Rusara. "We can''t afford to go around looting Khasmir."


    "Rusara," said Raynald, "most of the soldiers in this army joined because they wanted to loot and pillage. I can''t exactly tell them they aren''t allowed to do it. They''ll make a run for it."


    "You''ll have to," said Rusara. "The Calishans aren''t willing to invade Khasmir for one reason. They know that all the neutral factions will unite against a common enemy. They may put aside self-preservation for revenge if we earn their hatred."


    "Yes, yes," said Raynald. "I suppose we''ll just have to stick to looting the bodies of our fallen enemies." Disappointed murmurs.


    There was a flash at that moment, and Kiyora appeared, rushing up to him. "Hey William, I had this great-." She paused as she saw the army. "Um... I''m guessing you''re busy."


    William looked up in surprise. How was it that she always showed up when he least expected it? "Not at the moment. This is more the calm before the storm than a time of any pressing need."


    "Right," said Kiyora, "so what is happening?"


    "Raynald has taken the high ground here with our satyr allies," said William. "The worshippers of Kreshlak should be coming by this road soon enough. They''ll have to engage us or go around when they get here.


    "If they go around, we can move ourselves to block them again, and they''ll exhaust themselves. We''ll hold the advantage if they attack, which is more likely."


    "Okay, I have no idea what any of that means," said Kiyora.


    William explained things quickly again. Kiyora listened and nodded, pretending to understand. "Right, okay, so what are you doing here? Shouldn''t you be down there with the army?"


    "Rusara wants me to observe and learn. If the battle gets desperate, involve me," admitted William. "Otherwise, I''ll spend time healing the wounded they drag back here. She doesn''t want me in action just yet."


    "Well, that sucks," said Kiyora.


    Relg came into view then, followed by a shorter satyr with ruddy gray fur, wearing a large axe on his back. "I do not agree with this course of action, Relg," the gray satyr said. "A warrior should meet the enemy on the battlefield and slaughter them all to the last."


    "Yes, Kusher and he would be badly weakened in the process," said Relg. "I expect the worshippers of Baltoth would be keen to attack next. And even if we were victorious, the better part of our fighting strength would be destroyed.


    "Do not be too eager to leap into battle, brother."


    "And you would instead hide behind these humans?" snarled Kusher.


    "Not hide," said Relg. "Work with. We''ll let the enemy exhaust themselves coming to us. Then we''ll stop them here. Elranor smiles at those who choose their battles wisely."


    "So what''s all this about Kreshlak and Baltoth," asked Kiyora.


    "That is a bit complicated," said William. "You see, most of the satyr clans in this region have been converted. To the worship of Elranor and Kreshlak, I mean¡ªthose allied with Calisha worship Baltoth. The neutral satyr clans pay homage only to Kreshlak and their ancestral deities.


    "Tamar, the Goddess of Eastern winds, for one. Though I gather her domain is empty, they worship only her memory.


    "There is some overlap, of course."


    Felix got back at this point. Or rather, he had brought back five minutes ago, but no one had noticed him except William. He was standing directly behind Tanith and kneeling. Though Rusara had been looking at him before anyone else, perhaps she''d seen. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Felix, you''ve returned," said Rusara.


    "Yes," said Felix. "It is as Lord Relg said, Lady Rusara. The worshippers of Kreshlak are making their way here en masse. They number far fewer than half our forces. They might have been evenly matched if they had met Relg in battle. Against our combined might, it would be a massacre."


    "Perfect," said Raynald, pointing to the map. "We''ll arrange the spearmen in the front here and here. Rusara, your archers and slingers, will fire into their ranks as soon as they come within range. After that, they fall behind the line as they approach. Relg, place your berserkers on the left flank. Tanith, you''ll lead the swordsmen and mercenaries on the right here. We''ll let them come to us and shred them to pieces."


    "There is something else, sir," said Felix.


    "What is it?" asked Raynald, looking annoyed.


    "This isn''t just an army," said Felix. "They have women and children with them on wagons along with all their possessions. While watching them. I heard them talking about strange creatures that had driven them out. Monsters. They are running from something."


    "I didn''t know you spoke satyr," said Tanith.


    "I don''t," said Felix. "They spoke Harlenorian. The languages have bled together a bit. Why do you think you can talk with Lord Relg?"


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    "This is perfect!" said Tanith, ignoring the point. "We can get all the benefits of sacking their villages without actually doing it!"


    "Tanith is right," mused Raynald. "We''ll make a tidy profit selling the survivors into slavery. And we can loot their valuables. The Sornian sugar plantations always looked for new bodies to work in the fields. Anything else?"


    William had to do something about this. "Raynald, if I may?" he said.


    "Yes, of course," said Raynald.


    "If they come here with women and children, they are desperate. Desperate people fight harder," said William. "And they remember people who help them far longer than those for whom the sun shines."


    "What do you suggest?" asked Raynald with a raised eyebrow. "That we give them food and water and let them take over our ally''s lands?"


    Since when did Raynald start giving a damn about their allies? The question held a certain degree of resentment, which surprised William. However, he controlled himself. "I merely wish to speak with them before we commit to slaughtering desperate men. These creatures Felix speaks of may be of concern to us as well."


    "Relg, what is your view on this?" asked Raynald.


    "We had heard rumors of these creatures before," admitted Relg. "Monsters with the bodies of snakes and arms like scythes. However, we had not known them to be so formidable.


    "Anything which can drive the worshippers of Kreshlak to flee is a dangerous foe. What if we ally with them and help them regain their homeland? They might well be willing to accept the authority of Elranor."


    "Well, that is what Vanion would do," mused Raynald. "Fine, we''ll try things your way, William. However, I doubt the army will be pleased."


    The army was arrayed, and soon enough, they saw their enemy approaching. True to Felix''s words, it was far smaller than their own and soon drew to a halt. Many wagons drawn by oxen came with them, stuffed with people. The two armies were arrayed, and Kiyora looked at them curiously.


    "They don''t look very enthusiastic, do they?" asked Kiyora.


    "Would you be enthusiastic about these odds?" asked William. "They''re not soldiers; they''re refugees."


    "Brother, we should attack!" said Kusher. "They''re exhausted and fewer than us! We can crush them now!"


    "The time for battle has not yet come, Kusher," said Relg.


    "Not yet, come?" asked Kusher. "Are you a chieftain or the human''s lapdog-"


    It was remarkable how quickly Relg acted. His hand was around Kusher''s throat, and the other satyr was smashed on the ground, being choked. A blade was set to his belly, and Relg looked at his brother with a deadly calm expression. "The next time you wish to disagree with me, brother, you will demonstrate due respect. Or I''ll kill you. Understand?"


    Kusher nodded. The blade was removed, and Relg stood. "Good. Now, let''s go to meet with the enemy."


    "Tanith," said Raynald, "put forward the flag of parley."


    "Why me?" asked Tanith incredulously.


    "Consider it a compliment," said William, clapping her on the shoulder. "A show of our faith in your abilities."


    "Funny how every time someone shows faith in my abilities, I get a volley of arrows shot at me," muttered Tanith.


    To William''s relief, nobody launched a volley of arrows at Tanith. The satyr chieftain came forward with his honor guard to meet Raynald and Relg with theirs this time. The chieftain was a giant of a satyr with bulging muscles. Yet as he approached Relg, he looked at the smaller satyr with terror.


    Just what was it that made everyone so afraid of Relg? He had threatened to kill his brother, of course. Perhaps he was considered ruthless, even by satyr standards.


    "I am Relg of the Fireeyes clan," said Relg. "Why have you intruded on my domain?"


    "I am Chieftain Atrain of the Swordarm clan." said the Chieftain. "We... we are seeking shelter. Terrible monsters have driven us from our homes and even now ravage the lands of the people of Kreshlak. Kreshlak''s priests bade us to seek the aid of the worshippers of Elranor. We beg of you to provide us with the land; in return, our swords and the swords of your descendants shall be yours. We will; we will pay homage to Elranor and Kreshlak."


    It was an unfortunate play. Offering concessions to start with. Even if he was desperate, he should have pretended to be confident. If only to make them think he might have something up his sleeve.


    Kusher looked at him with obvious contempt. "Miserable wretch, why should we-"


    He stopped as Relg raised a hand. "You ask us to aid you," said Relg. "However, we have little land to spare ourselves. Yet in the spirit of brotherhood between all satyrs, we shall consider your request."


    "I thank you," said Atrain.


    "Now, tell me everything that has occurred," said Relg.


    Atrain nodded. "Some weeks ago, a comet shot across the sky and landed in our lands. From it spewed forth many monsters, the likes of which we have never seen. They killed without mercy, but they ignored wildlife. All their focus was on our people.


    "At first, it was only a few raids. They would attack a village and drag the dead away. Yet soon, they multiplied. Within a week, they were everywhere, and we could hardly hold our own."


    "Why did you not go to the other clans of Kreshlak for help?" asked Relg.


    "We sought aid at the nearby clan of Krishiv. Yet our messengers found them under siege by great armies of the monsters," said Atrain. "We choose to flee before we can become encircled. I fear it is only a matter of time before they are overwhelmed."


    "Then we will go to their aid," said Relg. "Raynald, I will ensure these monsters do not spread further. Chieftain Atrain, you and your warriors will refresh yourselves in our wells. Then, you will go to the aid of Krishiv and relieve the siege under the command of Raynald. I will remain here and ensure that your families are cared for."


    It was as much a threat as it was an act of generosity. Relg was taking hostages in case Atrain attempted treachery. However, Raynald narrowed his eyes. He didn''t like being given orders."


    "Well, of course," said Raynald. "Your brother should come with us. He seems eager for war." Relg turned, and his gaze met Raynald. After a moment, he shrugged and relented. "The experience will do him good."


    Then there was a roar. Over their heads shot six blurs of flaming rock. William could feel the heat of it on his face as they soared overhead. The ground shook as they crashed into the distance, throwing them from their feet. William felt his helmet clang against a rock, and it took a moment for him to arise. As he composed himself, he heard the shrieks.


    They were ungodly, horrible shrieks of agony. William stood unsteadily and saw two fallen meteors looming in the distance. Then, holes were broken in their base from within. Out of those holes poured many snake-like creatures with scythe arms. They had the mandibles of insects and slithered quickly toward them.


    "What the hell?" said Raynald.


    "More of them," cried Atrain. "More of them have come!"


    Raynald drew his sword. "Get your people behind the lines. Form up your warriors with us and prepare to repel the attack! Shields up!"


    A hand fell on William''s shoulder. "William, stay behind the lines."


    What! No, he was going to fight! He didn''t want to, but he had to. "Let me-" he began.


    "Not this time!" snarled Rusara. "You have another task! Now come on!"


    William hurried behind Rusara, feeling a twinge of resentment. He wanted to prove himself in battle, but Rusara wouldn''t let him. This was the second battle William had been forced to sit out. Then he noticed as he reached the top of the hill that Kiyora looked distant. As if he was seeing her through the mist.


    "What are those things," asked Kiyora, voice oddly faint.


    "Raishans," said Rusara. "I didn''t know there were any areas they could enter this world through. Quickly, William, play your harp."


    "But-" began William.


    "Now!" snapped Rusara.


    William drew out his harp and watched the armies assembled into a defensive position. The Harlenorians were in the center, facing the brunt of the assault. To their left were the assembled satyrs, howling war cries and revving themselves into a fury. To their right were the troops raised from Artarq. And further up the hill were the Dust Elves and slingers, ready for war. But the shrieking monstrosities slithered after them. No sooner had the defense been prepared than the monsters were in arrow range. The twang of bows resounded through the valley. A rain of arrows killed many. Yet even as they fell, more took their place as the creatures rushed forward faster than any man could run.


    "Play the harp, William!" cried Rusara. "Now!"


    William obeyed. He strummed the strings, and as he did so, the front ranks of the raishans slowed and recoiled. They fled backward as more arrows flew into their ranks. Yet soon, they rallied and returned, only to break again. William played on, pouring the power of Elranor into his music. Some of the creatures fell, screaming to the ground.


    "They''re falling into disorder," said William.


    "These creatures hate the divine like a plague," said Rusara. "Keep playing until I tell you to stop, understand?"


    "Yes," said William.


    On and on, the creatures came as arrow after the arrow was launched into their midsts. The stones fell afterward in a rain of projectiles. When one died, it would shriek horribly and fall. Its body would melt into nothingness on the ground before its eyes. Yet why were there bodies of the creatures in the distance?


    More creatures broke out of the rock, and a second wave advanced. Something set its will against William, and he found his hands hurt. It was getting hard to keep playing. What was he doing here? All the music in the world was of no use against such hosts. He should take his sword and join the others in battle.


    No, that wasn''t right. His music was helping.


    The second wave arrived, and the raishans rushed to the front line. Yet before they could reach it, Raynald walked out ten feet ahead of the army. His sword was in his hand, and as the creatures drew near, his sword flashed in the sunlight. In mere moments, dozens of the animals fell into pieces around him, and more soon followed.


    For a moment, Raynald held back the tide, hacking them down around him with absolute ease. He fought in a godlike fashion, lunging and slashing, and raishans fell like wheat. Yet though not one raishan could get by him, they could go around him and soon reached the front lines. Thus, the battle was joined.


    The spearmen had locked their shields and stabbed with their weapons, holding them at bay. Yet the tide came against the flanks. Soon, the swordsman and axemen were fighting in melee and not doing as well. William saw a man beheaded by a scythe, another wrapped up and crushed to death by the raishans tail.


    A full-on melee began. The flanks buckled as more and more of the monsters came onward. The soldiers of Artarq were stabbing and fighting in terror. Many were bowled over and torn apart, screaming before their friends. Yet others rushed to their aid with spears readied to thrust into the hearts of the creatures. The line was holding, and the Harlenorians had never been as pressured. The satyrs fought with glee and savagery. Yet such were their numbers that they defied comprehension. William realized that his hands were slowing and played harder.


    At the same time, Raynald moved to the front of the ranks, driving off the raishans singlehanded. It bought them precious time, and the men reformed. He saw Tanith cut the head from a raishan, parry a scythe with her shield, and cut another in half. Beside her, he could see Kusher lying about him with his axe, slaying many.


    Between the two of them, they compared to Raynald, who was always where the fighting was thickest. His blade slew unending tides of demons, and they shrieked in horror at his coming. Tanith became more and more relentless. She was killing demon after demon with a smile, and Kusher fought to keep pace and succeeded.


    Relg stood behind the battle, firing a bow. He launched arrow after arrow. With each shot, a raishan fell dead.


    Then Rusara snapped her fingers, and a high flame pillar rose. She did it again, and another pillar scattered the raishans. Then again. The tide was repulsed, yet it came back, again and again, no matter how it was defeated.


    He didn''t know how long he stood there, playing, but every inch was pained with the effort. There was a roar, and into the fray leaped Massacre. The beast poured flame into the ranks of the raishans. She tore them apart wherever they walked. Where had she been all this time? Her paws ripped raishans in half, while her lion head tore into the monsters.


    Wherever she went, the raishans died. It proved the last straw. The raishans could not pierce the ranks of Harlenor. Whenever they came too close, Raynald would come with his sword. Or Massacre with her claws. Or Rusara with her fire, and they would be repulsed.


    The tide slackened and fled. And left behind was a field of blood. Every inch of the barren ground was soaked with red. The retreating raishans grabbed the bodies of the fallen and dragged them with them. Their path led them back toward the rock in the distance. William felt like throwing up as he watched it.


    He looked down at his harp. He wondered why the strings had not broken or frayed when using them with a gauntlet. Then he fell to his knees in exhaustion. His every inch hurt. How long had he been channeling the power of the divine?


    He didn''t know, but he couldn''t afford to collapse.


    William looked at Felix and shook his head. "I''m going to go heal the injured."


    He stood up and descended the hill, nearly falling several times. In a daze, he began to search among the fallen for wounded. He healed who he could, but it seemed futile. So many had been injured or killed, and he knew he couldn''t treat them all. Casualties had been terrible among the men of Artarq, who had the least training. Their ranks had been thicker than the others, and many had been slain or wounded. The Harlenorians, armored and more experienced, faired the best. They had taken defensive positions and locked shields. Last of all, the satyrs had met fury with fury and lost many.


    He could try, however. He healed broken bones and ripped flesh despite a blurry vision. Eventually, when he could go on no longer, he collapsed to his knees. Vaguely, he saw Tanith approaching him, looking in the best mood he''d ever seen her. How did she always end up soaked in blood every time she went into battle?


    "William," she said, "did you fight?"


    "No," said William. "My harp, I... I played it to disrupt the raishans power. Rusara''s orders."


    "A shame," said Tanith. "It''s been great sport here. Look at that field out there! We must have killed at least ten thousand! Probably four or five times that, actually!" She paused. "Of course, Raynald killed the most, as usual. Something to work for, I guess."


    "Tanith," said William, "I''d love to talk about this, but I need to meet with Raynald."


    "You need to rest," said Felix. "You are at your limit."


    William realized he was right and sank to his knees. "Fine," said William, "I''ll rest for a bit."


    Raynald showed up on his own, congratulating various soldiers on their work. William could hear several cheers of victory, but it was all halfhearted. Relg walked among his men, doing the same. Kusher could be seen sitting upon a stone and staring into space. William began trying to estimate how many they had lost. There were at least a few thousand Artarqians and a couple hundred Haldrenians. The satyrs were already devouring their dead in some places, but he guessed about a thousand.


    The next battle would be lower. All those here were now soldiers and would be better prepared for next time.


    And then came the messenger. He rushed breathlessly up to Relg and fell to one knee. "Chieftain! Kynn is under siege! Strange monsters we have never seen even now assail our walls!"


    "Damn," said Relg. "We must have missed the horn calls in the chaos."


    "Ready yourselves, my warriors!" cried Kusher, standing tall. "We must aid our brethren!"


    "We can''t go anywhere until our men have had a chance to rest," said Relg. "We''re in no state to travel, let alone fight. Kynn once held for twenty years against a Calishan army. Gather the men and give them an hour''s rest. Then we move."


    "What about Krishiv?" asked William.


    "We''ll see to ourselves first," said Relg.


    "Relg is right," said Raynald. "A man must see to his allies first."


    "There is one other thing we must do," said Rusara, appearing with Massacre. "William, come with me. We have work to do, you and I. Tanith pick some men. You will accompany us into that meteor."


    ''Why?" asked Tanith. "We''ve already routed them."


    "There is a nest within that thing," said Rusara. "I am sure of it. And I do not want to have it at our backs."


    "I will go as well," said Kusher with an appearance of confidence. "My axe craves more blood."


    "As you wish," said Rusara.


    "Why are we going in there?" asked William.


    "To finish the beast," said Rusara. So, more demon slaying.

 Chapter Twenty: A Nest of Raishans

    The meteor loomed very high above them as they drew near it, rough to look at with many small depressions within it. It looked like a massive, cracked egg. It was taller than the tallest hills, creating a massive crater. They saw no sign of the raishans as they scaled down the crater toward the base of the meteor. The great stone had several large holes knocked in it, leading into a passage. Smoke was rising from the base, shrouding their surroundings.


    "Rusara, I don''t understand why you are taking me here," said William. "And why aren''t we bringing more than this with us?"


    "Raishans are not a monster that can be killed with just a blade," said Rusara. "What we have here should be enough to deal with the physical side of things. I hope."


    "I must have killed five," said Tanith. "I think it was five, right William?"


    William blinked. "I think you slew more than that."


    "Right, I sort of don''t remember when I go berserk," said Tanith. "It''s a happy blur.


    "I''m nowhere near Raynald, though."


    "Hardly impressive," said Kusher, sounding slightly out of it. "A true warrior could kill ten."


    "Why, have you seen one?" asked Tanith with a smirk.


    "You dare mock me, human?" snarled Kusher.


    "More or less," said Tanith, putting a hand to her duel swords.


    "Why you-" began Kusher, bristling at the barb.


    "Both of you quiet!" snapped Rusara. "We have more pressing affairs!"


    They fell silent. Rusara stopped and looked at them with a severe look. "Tanith, Kusher, it is true that you killed many of their physical forms. Yet they will soon be back. They are monsters formed from the tormented souls of sinners. Those deemed unworthy of becoming demons. When they are killed, they do not disappear into the afterlife. Instead, they merely return to the nearest hatchery to be reborn again as monsters.


    "Only one with a divine connection can release these spirits from torment. It is for this reason that I have brought William. His music can destroy them on a more permanent basis."


    "Have you fought these things before, Lady Rusara?" asked Felix.


    "No. I''ve never seen one before today," admitted Rusara. "However, I have read about them in the ancient histories of my people. Enough to know that if this invasion is not checked, it could mean disaster for the entire world. Now, quiet, we have work to do.


    "Tanith, you are the rearguard. Massacre, keep William and Felix safe. I will take the front. Now follow me."


    Then she strode toward the openings created by the raishans. Within, they found a long, smooth tunnel leading steadily into the meteor. William muttered an incantation, summoning a golden light to float above his head. Rusara mirrored the movement and created one, both smaller and far brighter. As they went further in, he smelled something. It was a heavy, fleshy smell in the air, and distantly, one could hear a primal hissing. The ground here was slippery and wet. Strange liquids were dripping from the ceiling.


    William had a vague sense of horror and also felt hatred. Something within this place wanted them out. But he wasn''t precisely shaking. However, Tanith and Kusher, and their warriors looked disturbed. He didn''t understand why.


    "William, this place..." said Tanith.


    "What is it?" asked William.


    "Doesn''t it seem wrong to you?" asked Tanith. "Like it shouldn''t be here."


    "Maybe," said William.


    "How can you be so calm?" asked Tanith.


    "I''ve been close to Laughing Wraith," said William. "These things pale in comparison to him-"


    Suddenly, there was a blur. Something came at William, who stepped aside as a scythed blade went for his throat. It scraped off his armor, and Tanith''s sword went through the beast''s head. It reeled, but she drew out her blade and cut it in half. William looked up and realized it had come down from above.


    "Are you alright?" asked Tanith.


    "Yes," said William. "This thing came at us from above. We should keep our eyes peeled for more gaps like that."


    "Where has Kiyora got to anyway?" asked Felix.


    "In the books, it is said that when there are many raishans in a given place, they emit a field," said Rusara. "It naturally prevents gods from directly manifesting or making their will known."


    "So Kiyora can''t help us?" said William.


    "I''m afraid not," said Rusara.


    "We need no gods to aid us!" said Kusher. "Steel and muscle is a great guide than any paltry deity!" He sounded like he was putting on a front.


    "No one-" began Tanith.


    "Step back!" said Rusara. "Get back all of you!"


    They stopped, and William looked ahead. On the ground ahead of them, there appeared to be a great many vines growing all along the passage. The vines crisscrossed and seemed to be slithering on the ground somehow.


    "What are those things?" asked William.


    "Tendrils, I have read about them," said Rusara. "Raishans grow such things as defenses within their nests. I doubt they are immune to fire, however." And she snapped her fingers.


    There was a burst of flame and the screaming of the damned as the tendrils were utterly consumed. The fire spread upwards along the passage. Gradually, the fire went beyond their reach, and all that was left were ashes.


    "That worked well," said Tanith.


    Then, there were infernal screams from up the passage. They drew their weapons, and around the corner came raishans in great numbers. William knocked aside a scythe blade and stabbed a raishan through the chest. The beast slammed him with its tail, sending him falling back, and it went after him. It pinned him and tore at his armor. Then Kusher struck the beast across the face with his axe, splitting its skull.


    William pulled himself up. The warriors formed a knot and fought against the swarms of raishans. A burst of flame consumed many of the creatures, but two satyrs were cut to bits and overwhelmed. One of the Harlenorians was born down and crushed to death.


    Kusher and Tanith ended up fighting back to back. Together, they cut down the beasts wherever they found them. Six more fell within moments, yet William saw even more raishans approaching them. There were too many of them, he realized. Tanith''s blades almost sang as she cleaved them down.


    Then he saw the raishan which Kusher had struck, getting up again. All throughout the combat, the raishans were healed by some unholy will. William knew right then and there that unless he acted, all was lost.


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    Unfortunately, something seemed to realize that as well. Even as he drew up his harp, the monsters rushed at him. He played it as quickly as he could while backing away from them. Yet this time, he found he hit some kind of wall head-on. He felt a presence, unbearable hunger, insatiable bloodthirst, and unfathomable malice. It felt familiar, almost comforting.


    His thoughts no longer seemed entirely his own.


    Panicked, he poured his whole power into the harp as in Kiyora''s world. A light shield appeared around him, expanding outwards to burn the raishans. The creatures screeched, only for that same will to set itself against William.


    It hurt just to feel it. William saw images of rivers of blood. He saw screaming faces and uncountable civilizations destroyed. He also saw raishans. It was all he could do not to look away. But he knew he had to keep going. So he continued to play, and the raishans were destroyed or fled.


    "Rusara," said William, "we are drawing near something horrible. Should we go back?"


    "No," said Rusara. "We are nearly finished. Come."


    They climbed up the passage and wandered through the inside of the meteor. There were many rooms in this place. Some were gigantic, some so small that they had to walk single files. Every so often, they would see more tendrils, but Rusara always burned these apart. William kept his harp in hand, but his head ached, and his legs shook.


    He was tired. So tired.


    Finally, they came to a halt in a room filled with the scent of death. William fell to one knee and rested as best as the others. Within this round room were corpses. Piles upon piles of corpses, still wearing their armor. Yet they were strange. The color had gone out of their faces, and they looked stretched and bloated. Then William saw a hand gradually merging onto another corpse''s face.


    This time, he did throw up.


    "I know this man," said Tanith. "I saw him die in the battle."


    "And I have seen many of these warriors in the mustering field," said Kusher, voice disturbed.


    "The raishans drag the corpses of the slain back with them," said Rusara. "If they are not stopped, the souls of those killed here will be twisted into more raishans. William, play your harp."


    "I hate doing this," said Willliam as he obeyed.


    "What is so hard about it?" scoffed Kusher. "You don''t even fight."


    "How would you like to put your mind in contact with the thing which is doing all this?" asked William in disgust. "Playing the harp normally is fine. But when I use it to fight against dark magic, that dark magic fights back. I get a sense of my enemy''s mind."


    "What do you sense from the demon''s mind?" asked Rusara, sounding curious.


    "Hunger and hatred," said William. "And something else, just below the surface."


    He played his harp. He forced himself to go on. Around him, he felt that presence again, bearing down on him with formless evil. For a moment, it pressed against him; then, he pushed it back. Around him, the bodies began to burst and break down as the evil was driven out of them. Blood poured from them, soaking the ground. Soon, the bodies were all gone.


    Yet there was still a power in this place. Whatever had possessed this area seeped into the very walls. William knew he must drive it out to defeat these creatures permanently. So he played more and more and matched his will against it.


    As he did so, he felt the monster could have crushed him like a gnat if it weren''t so utterly stupid. It operates on very basic impulses. Laughing Wraith had been somewhat similar, but a feral intellect existed. William felt that Laughing Wraith could have talked and reasoned if it wanted. It merely regarded such things with contempt.


    This thing was little more than an animal. An animal imbued with infernal powers. It couldn''t use the raw power it possessed for anything. And despite how dangerous it was on the physical plane, it had no real willpower. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Unfortunately, even animals did not want to die. As William began to burn it away, there were distant shrieks from many other passages leading out. The others drew their weapons.


    "What was that?" asked Kusher.


    "They are coming to stop us," said William in a tired tone.


    Thus began yet another battle with the raishans. There were more of them than before. However, William didn''t have the mental energy to concern himself with them. He played and played and beat back the creature inch by inch. It fought back desperately, tearing at his mind. But having no understanding of how his mind worked, it could do little but disgust him.


    Things on the physical plane could have been better. Kusher was swearing as he hacked the beasts down around him. "Where has that Calishan got to? Damn him!"


    "Here," said Felix.


    Of a shadow emerged Felix, sword in hand. He sliced the head from a raishan, retreated into the shadows, and emerged elsewhere. Driving the blade into a raishan from behind, he did the same thing repeatedly.


    At last, the physical battle was over. The monster was now struggling far more weakly. William felt that if it could speak, it would be begging for mercy.


    "How do you do that shadow trick?" asked Tanith.


    "It is something I picked up from an ancestor," said Felix. "I can sort of meld with the shadows. I''ve been working on learning to jump between them. Lady Rusara helped me perfect it."


    "Well, it certainly is useful," said Tanith.


    And she ruffled his hair. William would have found it endearing, but he was in no mood. He might have felt pity for the monster, which certainly had not chosen to be born as it was. But he was in no mood. For all intents and purposes, he was completely done with cosmic horrors.


    "Both of you be quiet," said William. "I''m trying to break the spell." He sent a mental blow against the monster. It let out a nonverbal scream, and he killed it. He dealt it several more such blows for good measure. "There. It is done."


    "Excellent," said Rusara. "We must leave this place at once. When raishans lose many of their kind, they often attract more from neighboring areas."


    "What of the bodies of our fallen brethren?" asked Kusher.


    "We will burn them," said Rusara. "I''m sorry, but we cannot take them all with us."


    "So be it," said Kusher, and he probably meant to sound grave. He merely sounded tired, however.


    Rusara burned each of the bodies to ashes with her fire. They watched as each one was consumed. Then, they backtracked and did the same to the next group. Tanith looked forlorn. "They deserved a better burial than this."


    "What you see is only the flesh," said Kusher. "The spirit will have a far grander reception at the Table of Elranor."


    "I hope so," said Tanith.


    "You, human in the skull armor," said Kusher.


    "My name is William Gabriel. I am the son of Duke Vanion Gabriel. I am a Paladin of Elranor," said William, more than a little irritated. "Kindly refer to me by something other than my race."


    "Whatever you say," said Kusher. "Your armor makes you appear formidable, and you have some nerve. Why do you use so feeble an instrument as a harp to focus your power?"


    Rusara looked offended at this statement but said nothing. She instead focused on painting a protective rune on a soldier''s armor.


    "I learned to play the harp when I was little," said William. "I found this harp in a chimera lair, and playing it saved my life. Rusara tells me it is a powerful relic of the wars between elves and humans. It was created by Alchara herself, lost with the fall of the ancient elven kingdoms. It magnifies the power of the wielder by an immense level.


    "When I channel the will of Elranor through it, there is a great power."


    "Yet it isn''t you gaining the victory?" asked Kusher.


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "You are wielding the power of a god and channeling it through an artifact you stole by chance," said Kusher. "Can you really say that you are destroying the raishans?"


    "Of course not," said William. "I am merely the instrument of Elranor''s will."


    "You say that with such pride," said Kusher. "Kreshlak desires his warriors to be independent, to think for themselves. To fight for their own desires and, in so doing, bring greater glory to him. Only by standing on one''s own feet can one truly become great.


    "An unearned victory is no victory at all."


    "Unearned?" asked William. "I got thrown in a dungeon, tempted by a demon, starved, thirsted, fought, and fled for my life to get this harp! And I only wield the power of Elranor because he willingly bestowed it upon me!


    "I don''t see that you''ve done anything like that."


    "Yes, those things are to your credit," said Kusher. "You have earned some glory. If you had been given these powers as a birthright and inherited the harp, I would hold you in contempt. But let me ask you this;


    "How would you fare if you wielded an ordinary harp against these raishans? Can you break their spells, then? Would you even be able to stand their presence?"


    "I don''t know," admitted William.


    "Good answer," said Kusher. "I believe that the use of that harp is holding you back. Tell me, have you ever heard of the Hammer of Kreshlak?"


    "It is a legendary weapon that gives one power over water," said William. "It is sealed away in Viokinar, and only a warrior after Kreshlak''s own heart may wield it. I believe it was forged to fight giants. Fortenex has a weapon of his own, an axe that is equal and opposite. Doesn''t it draw its power from blood?"


    "You know more than most," noted Kusher.


    "Rusara taught me much," said William.


    "Notice that both Kreshlak and Fortenex sealed their weapons away, though," said Kusher. "This is because both gods knew that the weapon would become a crutch to an unworthy wielder. They would gain small victories with it, but without the axe, they would fail. It would inspire weakness instead of rewarding strength."


    "I see what you are saying, Kusher," said William. "You think that my control over my powers will weaken if I continue to use the harp? But I can''t do that right now. Look around us. Look what we are facing.


    "I can''t afford to use the harp right now. If I don''t, thousands could die. And I can''t give it to someone else, not if I want ever to see the harp again." He sighed. "I''ll probably put the harp away after we''re done here. For now, I''m just glad we''ve won."


    "The battle, perhaps," said Rusara. "But not the war."


    "What do you mean?" asked Tanith.


    "I counted half a dozen meteors coursing across the sky," said Rusara. "One of them is across the canyon; we''ll have to deal with that before we move out. As for the others, they will have to be dealt with as well. And then there is the matter of the meteors which fell to earth before. And the meteors that might fall to earth in the future.


    "And the raishans may well make new nests."


    "...Oh damn," said William.


    "That was my reaction as well," said Rusara.


    This was going to be a long campaign.

 Chapter Twenty-one: An Unwanted Arrangement

    Kiyora opened her eyes. Please wait a minute; she always remembered waking up when she did. There was a flash, and she sat up in bed. This time, nothing of the sort happened. The world around her had merely faded, and she''d found herself staring at the ceiling.


    She hoped William could handle those xenomorph things that had poured out of the meteor. It was like something out of an old sci-fi movie. Why was she so detached from all this? She knew for a fact by all the events that had taken place that her dreams were portals into the real world. Yet it seemed unreal, though.


    She wasn''t alone. When she got downstairs, she noticed that Mom looked in much brighter spirits. She was cooking breakfast, her hair tied behind her head. "Good morning, Kiyora," she said.


    "Morning, Mom," said Kiyora, feeling even weirder. "What''s for breakfast?"


    "Bacon and eggs," said Mom. "And onions, too; I mixed some in."


    "Can I just have the bacon?" asked Kiyora.


    Mom smiled. "Sorry, no. Eat the whole plate. It''s part of a balanced breakfast."


    "Balance is overrated," said Kiyora.


    Later, as they sat down and began to eat, Kiyora looked up at Dad, who was reading his newspaper. He, too, put everything that happened behind him, which was weird. Didn''t he just say before that nothing was the same?


    Apparently not.


    "You know, I am not looking forward to redoing all the days of school I missed," said Kiyora. She forked some eggs into her mouth.


    "I don''t think anyone is," said Mom. "My whole schedule got messed up as well, you know."


    "Still, at the very least, this affair has given me all kinds of new painting ideas," said Dad. "I feel a darker tinge here or there can add some life to things.


    "Is that all you ever think about, Dad?" asked Kiyora with a smile. Why was she smiling? She was talking about an eldritch abomination from her darkest nightmares. It was a monster who had possessed one of her friends and manifested directly in her world.


    "I express myself and life through my artwork," said Dad. "I may draw on my dreams, but new experiences help me grow. It makes me more open-minded and more able to comprehend what I see in those dreams. My paintings have been a bit darker; lately, it''s true. But that isn''t a bad thing.


    "Never stop learning, Kiyora. That''s the key to happiness."


    "Wow, Dad, that''s deep," said Kiyora, only half sarcastic.


    "Less talking, more eating," said Mom. "You''ll be late if you''re not careful."


    "Right, right," said Kiyora.


    She finished quickly, dressed in her school uniform, and began walking to school. As she did, she met Reya at the crosswalk. The girl was looking down at her feet.


    "Reya, are you okay?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yeah, I just... I''m starting to forget what it was like to have him in my mind, Kiyora," said Reya. "But it''s taking a while." She didn''t need to say who ''he'' was. Everyone in the city knew.


    "You''re starting to forget?" asked Kiyora. "Everyone is. It all seems like more of a bad dream than anything else."


    "Do you think maybe Emperor Ictargo is making us forget?" asked Reya.


    "I don''t know," said Kiyora. "I''ll probably credit him for making sure nobody died. How the hell did he manage that?"


    "Well, um," Reya paused. "I was talking with Laurus last night. He seemed to think that Wraith had only tenuous control over people. He says that he was planning to give people several doses of medicine. But something interfered and forced him to speed up his plans.


    "So he couldn''t get people to do anything murderous. And actually, Laurus was holding him back. Preventing him from acting evil."


    "You know it could be a lot worse," said Kiyora. "In my dreams, I''ve read about a demon that was even worse than Laughing Wraith?"


    "Worse?" asked Reya with a shudder. "How could anything be worse?"


    "I''m not sure; I''ve never met him," said Kiyora. "But his name was Melchious, and supposedly, he''s the one who created Laughing Wraith in the first place."


    "You don''t think he''ll show up here, do you?" asked Reya.


    "Nah, don''t worry, he''s dead," said Kiyora. "He looked into a magic mirror and killed himself or something. I don''t know; I wasn''t paying attention. Even if he was alive, I''m sure he has better things to do than attack this backwater."


    "This is the capital of the Dreamer Empire," said Reya. "It is both a cultural center and a center of trade. It isn''t a backwater, Kiyora."


    "I know," said Kiyora. "That was a joke."


    "I don''t see how any of this is supposed to cheer me up," said Reya.


    "I''m making conversation, I guess," said Kiyora.


    Come to think of it, hanging out with William and company had given her a morbid sense of humor. They thought differently from her, and Kiyora was beginning to think it was rubbing off on her. She didn''t believe that was good and decided to change the subject.


    They came within sight of the school, and it looked as though it had never been wrecked in the first place. Actovosh had taken the opportunity to put in some much-needed improvements. A new wing was on one side of the school, and Kiyora wondered what it was for.


    "Wow, the school looks a lot better now, doesn''t it?" she asked.


    "Actovosh has been working hard," said Reya. "I thought it would take months to replace. Most of the damage was to the windows and doors and school supplies. The main building was fine, so all they had to do was replace the windows and stuff.


    "But Actovosh added a new gymnasium."


    "Seriously?" asked Kiyora. "He isn''t usually this awake."


    "I guess the whole mass possession thing woke him up a bit," said Reya. Then she looked at her thoughtfully. "Kiyora?"


    ''Yeah?" asked Kiyora.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "What were you and Laurus doing in that factory?" asked Reya.


    "Well, you know, saving the city takes you to strange places," said Kiyora.


    "I was serious, Kiyora," said Reya.


    "So was I," said Kiyora, refusing to lie.


    Reya looked at her for a moment, then dropped the subject. They made their way through the halls and into their classroom. It had been completely rebuilt, and Kiyora found the lockers looked weird. They were different, and it put her off.


    As she put in her bag, someone hugged her.


    "Hey, Kiyora!" said Gisora. "Long time, no see!"


    "Hey, Gisora, how is it going?" asked Kiyora.


    "Great," said Gisora, breaking the embrace. "Can I talk to you to one side?"


    "Sure," said Kiyora.


    They went to the corner, and Gisora hesitated momentarily before going on. "Okay, so I asked my mom for information. She doesn''t know the specifics, but she can tell me that someone has come to the attention of the Royal Family. Supposedly, they found a family member with unheard-of magical levels in their blood. There are all kinds of rumors going on around them."


    "Why hasn''t anyone heard them here?" asked Kiyora. Then again, if there were rumors, she wouldn''t have heard them. Not while she was unconscious, anyway.


    "I mean in the Royal Court," said Gisora. "It''s is pretty insulated, so it takes a while for these things to get out into the streets. Oh, and another thing I remembered. Emperor Ictargo has decided on who is going to fill that vacancy."


    "What vacancy?" asked Kiyora.


    "You know, um, they were planning to find a fifth girl for Prince Tenius?'' asked Gisora.


    "Oh right, that guy," said Kiyora, uninterested. "Who is it?"


    "I don''t know," admitted Gisora. "They haven''t announced anything yet, but at the same time, they aren''t asking any more questions. This means they are either analyzing the data or have already decided."


    "Great," said Kiyora, not interested. "Let''s talk about it later."


    School passed in a breeze. Soon Kiyora and the others were sitting down for their first club meeting. It seemed like forever since they had last sat around this table. Though technically, the table had been replaced. Gisora seemed very enthusiastic about it as well. "Okay, at long last, the Fantasy Club has been rejoined! So, um, what were we discussing last time?"


    "I think it was something about an eldritch abomination in humanoid form," said Reya. "Wasn''t he being fought by a knight in shining armor?"


    "Can we talk about something else?" asked Laurus. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Kiyora considered what had recently happened in her dreams. "How about a horde of alien xenomorphs."


    "That has been done to death, hasn''t it?" asked Laurus.


    "In a fantasy setting," said Kiyora.


    Laurus gave her a look. "So you mean knights in shining armor fighting monstrous acid-spewing aliens? I like it."


    "But what do the aliens want?" asked Reya.


    "To eat everything, I guess," said Kiyora.


    "Okay, so what is the plot?" asked Reya.


    "Stopping the aliens," said Kiyora.


    "That doesn''t work, Kiyora," said Gisora. "''You can''t have a main villain whose only goal is to devour everything. The story would be many pointless action scenes strung together by an excuse plot.


    "Or a subpar horror movie."


    "Okay, Laurus, you''re our villain expert," said Kiyora. "What do you think we should do?"


    Laurus considered it. "...The way I see it, we have two options. Either the aliens could have an agenda beyond merely devouring everything. Or the aliens could be used by another party to achieve their ends."


    "Okay, so who is this other party?" asked Kiyora.


    "Give me a minute to think," said Laurus.


    "Well, the question we should ask ourselves is who would gain from all this?" said Gisora.


    "A demon, maybe?" said Kiyora.


    "Someone on that level of morality, sure," said Laurus. "But very few agendas wouldn''t be foiled by everything in the world being devoured."


    "So the person who brought the aliens to this world doesn''t care what happens to it." guessed Gisora. "Or they don''t want them to win."


    "A distraction?" guessed Kiyora.


    "That might be it," mused Gisora. "But if it were a distraction, they''d have to have some means of making sure things didn''t get out of hand."


    "Things could get out of hand," said Laurus. "That could be a story in itself."


    "Maybe we could use my other character," said Laurus.


    "You mean the one we came up with before?" said Gisora. "That might work. Okay, this monster thing is luring huge numbers of aliens to the setting so he can achieve something. They want everyone distracted. But what?"


    "To get something which is too heavily guarded in ordinary circumstances," suggested Laurus.


    "Right, that gives him some limits," mused Gisora. "Maybe he''s after a magic sword!"


    "An unholy sword which was taken from him long ago and sealed away by satyrs," said Kiyora. "It could contain much of his power; without it, he cannot act directly."


    "Okay, so the heroes beat the alien xenomorphs-" said Gisora.


    "No, they stop the alien xenomorphs," said Laurus. "We want them to be a threat still so we can bring them in later. Reya, are you writing this down?"


    Reya looked up from where she was writing. "Sure, but shouldn''t we talk about the details? Like what kind of society are we talking about? I''m guessing feudal, but who is the King? Does the King have most of the power, or are his nobles the real power? Does the army consist of professional soldiers or drafted peasants? Or hired mercenaries?


    "You have to think about these things when developing a story."


    "Let''s say drafted peasants with a warrior elite leading the charge," said Laurus.


    "Okay, so what do the peasants think of their overlords?" asked Reya.


    "Why does that matter?" asked Laurus. "It''s not like they will come into the story much."


    "They might," said Reya. "And we need to know about them if they do."


    "They don''t like them much," said Laurus. "But simultaneously, they can''t imagine a world without them."


    "I think we should have the King be benevolent," said Kiyora. "But ruthless, too."


    It felt good to be back coming up with ideas for stories again. When she talked like this with her friends, Kiyora could distract herself. She thought for a moment that the dreams she had were just that. Dreams. As time ticked by, the events she saw while asleep seemed more and more distant.


    Of course, that was suspicious in itself.


    When Kiyora got home that day, she saw a strange car outside. It had the symbol of their world, a tree branching outwards with many plateaus upon it. Each one had a different land upon it. It was the symbol of the Dreamer Empire.


    Kiyora made her way up to the house and knocked. After a moment, the door opened, and Mom looked out. "Mom, what''s with the car?"


    "Kiyora," said Mom, "there is a representative of the Royal Family here to speak with you. "Kiyora felt her blood run cold at that. "What about?"


    "She''ll explain," said Mom.


    Mom led her into the living room. There within it was a wonderful woman whose hair was dyed violet. She was dressed in flowing green robes. She stood up from her seat with all-encompassing benevolence. It struck Kiyora as a bit phony.


    Then again, calling people phonies based on their appearances was the sort of thing jerks did. Kiyora couldn''t imagine wanting to read a book about someone like that. So, she resolved not to jump to any conclusions.


    "Ah, and here she is, my darling granddaughter!" said the woman.


    "Granddaughter?" said Kiyora. So this woman was her grandmother?


    "Hasn''t Mayora told you about me?" asked the woman. "Your grandmother, Hanora Dreamer?"


    "I have not told her about her heritage until recently," said Mom. "I didn''t think it was important."


    There was an edge in her tone, and Kiyora expected a harsh or hurt response.


    She was surprised at how easily the woman took it. "Well, that makes today all the more special, doesn''t it?" asked the woman. "It isn''t every day that one finds out one is part of the Dreamer Royal Family with the grand destiny that entails."


    "What destiny?" asked Kiyora, moving into the room.


    ''You should sit down." said the woman. "Mayora, could you get us some more tea? I''d like to speak with her alone?"


    Mom said nothing and just stood there. The benevolence gave way for a moment as the woman looked at Mom. "Now, Mayora, don''t keep us waiting."


    Yeah, she was a phony.


    "Of course, Mother," said Mom.


    And she left. Kiyora sat down, liking Hanora less but not wanting to be rude. Now that they were alone, Hanora took a moment to look at the paintings on the walls. The ones Dad had made. "These paintings are truly beautiful, you know. I never agreed with her choice, but she could have done far worse."


    "You wanted to talk with me?" said Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Hanora. "We are aware of what you''ve done, Kiyora. You averted what could have been a truly catastrophic fiasco. And the royal family is very grateful. The Department of Bloodlines has more good news. They tell us that your connection to the spirit world is strong. Stronger than any other girl of this generation.


    "Alchara has blessed you."


    "Mmmhmm," said Kiyora, wanting to speed things along. "Well, that is nice to know."


    "There is something else," said Hanora. "The Department of Bloodlines has arranged a good match for you. You are to be betrothed to Prince Tenius Dreamer."


    Kiyora stared at her. "I''m sorry, what?!"


    "It''s all been arranged already," said Hanora. "You''ll be able to drop out of school and live in his mansion. It''s a splendid little place in the countryside made from the roots of one of our most powerful strains of trees."


    "I don''t want to drop out of school," said Kiyora.


    "Why ever not?" asked Hanora in surprise.


    "Because people who don''t finish school are-" Kiyora paused. Why did she have to explain this to an adult? "I want to have a future. Have a career, and I can''t do that if I don''t finish school."


    "Oh, but you will have a future," said Hanora. "Prince Tenius has some of the best blood in the entire royal family. Combined with your own, your children will be compelling."


    "That wasn''t what I meant by future," said Kiyora, amazed at how out of touch this woman was.


    "Well, what other future is there but our children?" asked Hanora.


    "Well," Kiyora considered the question, "there is the legacy we leave behind. Our good and bad deeds and our effect on the world around us. And anyway, I don''t want to leave my school friends."


    Hanora looked at her strangely. She needed help with the concept that Kiyora might not be interested in. "I''m sure you can keep in touch with them if you want to," said Hanora. "And you''ll make plenty of friends with the other wives."


    "I''m not doing it," said Kiyora flatly.


    "But you must," said Hanora. "Emperor Ictargo himself approved the engagement."


    At those words, Kiyora felt something. A soothing voice deep inside her told her to give in. Just go with the flow. Why not marry Tenius? He was only ten years older than her and might be nice. This could be a nice new beginning...


    Wait, that didn''t sound like her at all. She shoved the voice aside. She had the feeling she was being manipulated, and she didn''t like it. "Emperor Ictargo can get out of my life," snapped Kiyora. "I''m my person! I''m not breeding stock!"


    "I didn''t mean to upset you-" began Hanora.


    "Well, you succeeded!" snapped Kiyora.


    At that moment, she wished more than anything to be anywhere but here. And she got her wish. She disappeared in a flash. And it was a dream.

 Chapter Twenty-two: Argument in Heaven

    It was that same field of flowers. But this time, Kiyora was pissed. She didn''t know how she had gotten here by will alone, but she had the feeling she didn''t know her strength. Around her, the flowers withered and died. The grass began to grow longer and longer. It had become a tangle of weeds while thorns grew around them.


    Then Alchara appeared. Inelvishly beautiful as always, she descended. She set foot, and the field started to return to normal. But Kiyora halted it with one upraised hand. She refused the sense of inner peace and acceptance offered by Alchara and looked at her.


    Alchara stopped. "Well, we have a problem, don''t we?"


    "Understatement of the century much?" asked Kiyora. "I''m not doing it."


    "Kiyora, why do you deny me?" Her voice was pleading, as a mother begging her daughter to be reasonable. As she spoke, Kiyora felt the urge to accept that she knew best.


    Kiyora shrugged it off as best she could. But it was hard to argue with Alchara. "Why?" she asked, remembering her anger. "I don''t know, maybe because I don''t want to marry some guy I''ve never met who already has four wives! Ever think about that?"


    Alchara sighed with infinite understanding. She did understand, didn''t she? No doubt, she knew best. "It is necessary. Your bloodline has qualities that must be passed on. Combined with Tenius-"


    "I heard it all before, and I don''t care," said Kiyora. "This isn''t right!" Why did she feel like she was in the wrong? She wasn''t! Was she?


    "...Mayora was just like you," said Alchara. "I don''t understand why you are so opposed to this. After all, the marriage is very good, and you need to get married at some point."


    "I''ll judge that-" Kiyora paused as what she''d just said checked in. "Wait, Mayora? What does Mom have to do with this?"


    Alchara moved forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "Mayora was originally betrothed to Prince Tenius. She was even more reluctant to marry him than you."


    "I don''t blame her!" said Kiyora. "He''s like forty years younger than her!"


    "The marriage would have taken place after he came of age," said Alchara quickly. "And forty years is ultimately not that much of a gap." She was right, wasn''t she? Wait, no, she wasn''t!


    "For some people, it''s half a lifetime," said Kiyora, feeling ashamed.


    Alchara turned away and walked a little bit away as though thinking. "He really is very nice. Quite kind. Listen to me, Kiyora. I understand you have your own beliefs. But when you meet Tenius, you''ll find he is wonderful. I promise you you''ll grow to love him."


    "Meaning you''ll screw with my head to make me love him." snapped Kiyora. It sounded weak, even to her. No, it didn''t; Alchara made her feel that way.


    "That isn''t what I meant," said Alchara, sounding hurt that she would even consider it. "I''d never do anything like that. But I can see things you don''t, and I know he is an excellent match."


    Kiyora wanted to change the subject. "Why do you care so damn much about this stupid eugenics program anyway?"


    Alchara looked very distant suddenly. "A long time ago, the elves were the dominant species in the universe. Then came Elranor. I know that your human friends have told you good things about him. They make him seem like a hero, but he is a villain. He sewed dissent and formed alliances with vile creatures. Because of him, many wonderful things were forced to hide and disappear from the world. The dragons were driven to the verge of extinction, and that was the least of it.


    "There used to be such beautiful cities throughout the world. They possessed such a wondrous majesty that no mortal could look at them without tears. The forests were bountiful, and the elves tended them with care and devotion. All the creatures of the forest were welcome.


    "Anoa the Butcher changed all that. He destroyed the elven kingdoms in his world. He razed them to the ground and killed all he found, forcing them onto reservations. And his wrath spread to other worlds. My worshippers were driven to the edge of oblivion.


    "When you talk with Elranor, he puts on a front of being this benevolent lord. But he is a ruthless pragmatist who refuses to tolerate anyone who can oppose him."


    That was horrible. And what was more, Kiyora had seen evidence that Elranor''s people always acted like that. She remembered Tanith and all the awful things she''d bragged about. But what did it have to do with her? "How does that answer my question?"


    "It is because of Elranor that the Dreamer Elves exist," said Alchara. "Ordinary elves have a natural attunement to the spirits world, but I created your race to be far stronger. Your connection to the spirit realm is so powerful that it can warp the borders of reality. You can travel to other worlds." Suddenly, she was in front of her and put a hand on Kiyora''s chin, meeting her eyes with her own. "You are one of the most powerful dreamers ever to be born. In time, you could grow to be comparable to Ictargo. And Tenius has even more potential than you."


    Kiyora took great offense to that remark. Tenius hadn''t done anything to her knowledge. "Oh? How many Laughing Wraith''s has Tenius killed?"


    Alchara looked up at the sky. "Tenius has a lot of potential, but he has no ambition. He isn''t emotionally suitable to be a great leader, and he''s easily swayed. However, his bloodline is very powerful. Mixed with yours, can you imagine how powerful your children could be?"


    Her children? Yes, that was the purpose of marriage: to have children. Kiyora shook the thoughts off. She wasn''t getting married. "I don''t care. Now answer the damn question."


    Alchara sighed again. "I want to create a generation of dreamer elves more powerful than any to come before it. Imagine a universe with hundreds, even thousands, of dreamers like yourself. All of them are minor gods in their domains. Think of the good they could do. The Dreamer Empire could expand by thousands of worlds! Elves could be united again!


    "You marrying Tenius is one of the steps to that goal. I know you don''t like this, Kiyora. But I need you to trust me when I tell you this is the right thing to do. Believe me; you''ll be happy."


    Kiyora felt her will weakening. The thorns and thistles were giving way to natural grass. A life of peace and happiness awaited her; she needed only to give in. "How could you possibly know that?"


    "Greater gods exist detached from your linear progression of time," said Alchara. "I shaped you when you were in your mother''s womb. I was there for your first steps, and I know you better than anyone. Even better than Mayora.


    "Tenius has powers similar to your own. But he needs more focus. You can give him that. With your abilities, you could draw him into the same dreams. Think about the good you could do there with two deities instead of one.


    "I promise you, you and Tenius were meant to be together."


    That brought up memories of earlier in this conversation, and Kiyora felt sick. All of a sudden, the spell was weakened. "So was my Mom and Tenius, according to you."


    That broke the spell. "Well, yes," said Alchara, showing irritation, "it is against the rules to interfere with free will. Even if it weren''t, I wouldn''t do it. You have to understand that for people to make the right choice, there has to be a wrong choice. Mayora did something very selfish, and my plans were put back by years.


    "But you can correct that mistake."


    "Oh, so I''m a mistake now!" Kiyora was petty, but she didn''t care. It helped motivate her.


    "Why are you twisting my words?" asked Alchara.


    Yes, why was she so resentful of this arrangement? She had had ample warning of it happening ahead of time. Kiyora looked deep within herself. She thought of the time she''d spent with a certain blonde-haired paladin. More specifically, what they had done together, that was why.


    "Because I saved the whole capital, and you are repaying me by making me throw my whole life away!" she roared. "Well, screw you! I''m not marrying Tenius! And that is final!"


    With those words, Alchara recoiled. The plant life around them withered, and flames surrounded them, scorching the earth. They consumed everything as great pillars of rock appeared around them. The goddess stepped back as Kiyora met her gaze.


    "You pretend like you''re some kind of benevolent mother goddess. But you''re not," snapped Kiyora. "You''ve been screwing with my head this whole time! If you really cared what I thought, you''d have just come down here and talked to me without trying to manipulate me!


    "But no, you''d have to be less condescending to do that, wouldn''t you!"


    "There is no condescension," said Alchara. "That is merely you projecting." S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Like hell!" snapped Kiyora. "Every word out of your mouth is condescending! You think you''re better than me! Better than everyone else! Well, you aren''t! You talk about my human friends like they are somehow less elven than I am! Well, they aren''t either!"


    "You couldn''t hope to understand what I must contend with," said Alchara. "I watch over all elves across the entire universe. And more. This is nothing more than a petty tantrum-"


    "Oh, you don''t get to play the god card!" roared Kiyora. "I''m a goddess too! A goddess of dwarves, and I treat them with respect! I mean, I''m not perfect, I can be a little upfront, but all I want to do is help them! I don''t care who they marry because it isn''t my business. I''m here to help them! Not fulfill some agenda!


    "What have you done that''s helpful?"


    "I created your species," said Alchara. "I planted the tree upon whose branches their world rests. Actovosh was sent to aid you against Wraith by my command. And my servant Ictargo rescued you and your friends from Wraith when he attacked your school. There are many other times I could cite had I an eternity to do so.


    "I have guided elves from their first steps from the beginning of the first elf''s life. I have been there every moment of every elf from birth to death. My ministry makes the rituals of those Nakmar appear as little more than a child''s fantasy.


    "You are a thousand years too young to understand. However, you are ruled by your emotions, so I forgive you."


    Kiyora didn''t know what to say. Alchara''s change in demeanor had been very sudden. Kiyora felt that she was a naughty child who had been cursing her mother out. Now she was to be punished.


    "I am perfectly willing to force the issue," continued Alchara. "My designs have been thwarted once before. I won''t let it happen again.


    "This is for the greater good. You''ll thank me for this someday."


    Like hell, she would. It didn''t matter to Kiyora how good Alchara was. This was personal. "This'' isn''t happening. I won''t let it."


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    "You act as though you have a choice." mused Alchara.


    "Oh, but I do," said Kiyora. "You told me I did. I think I''m going to start making some wrong choices." Then she summoned her will and departed that world. She left behind a hellscape in place of a field of flowers.


    What she found herself in was a hall. Despite a massive roaring bonfire in the center, it was veiled in shadow. Many satyrs were dancing around it, waving weapons and torches. And on her dark throne, the demoness observed it with clasped claws and flicking tail. Except she was translucent. It was like she was a living shadow. As Kiyora approached, the shadow raised a hand, and the bonfire went out.


    At once, there were shrieks as the satyrs fled from the hall, leaving it in darkness. Then, a violet flame appeared, bathing the room in its light. Kiyora thought this somewhat melodramatic. She reminded herself who she was speaking to.


    The demoness moved forward and bowed. Her ropelike tail lashed around one of the eight pillars which held the roof up. "Oh, what a supreme honor. The Dreaming Goddess in my home. What are you doing here?"


    "Not really sure," admitted Kiyora.


    "Well, fortunately, I have my questions." said the demoness. "You see, I recently received an offer. A share in the very lucrative profits ensuing from the pilgrims to the mirror of Laevian. I must wonder, what exactly were you hoping to gain by this?"


    "Oh, that?" asked Kiyora. "I figured if you got money from the shrine, you''d be less likely to start a war. See, I can cut you off."


    "You don''t know me very well." said the demoness. "Money isn''t everything. My satyrs might appreciate the luxuries. I have no taste for such things."


    "I also want a favor in return," said Kiyora, deciding to push her luck.


    "A favor?" asked the demoness. "Oh, I see, and what favor could one of my powers do for one so insignificant as yourself?"


    "You know that sentence doesn''t make sense, right?" asked Kiyora. If you are the superior one and I''m insignificant, you wouldn''t need to ask what kind of favor you could do for me. You''d already know a million ways."


    "Well, obviously; however, I refuse to pretend inferiority to anyone," said the demoness. Kiyora didn''t get it. "Now, what is the favor?"


    "I um... I kind of need advice," said Kiyora. "And help. See, I''ve just been forced into an arranged marriage with this guy I don''t know, and I have no idea what to do?"


    "You are coming to me for advice on your relationship?" inquired the demoness in deadpan.


    "Yes," said Kiyora.


    "I am a physical manifestation of sin." said the demoness. She lashed out with her tail. Using it, she pulled herself around the pillar. Then she hung down, her dark hair nearly reaching the floor. Her face was inches from Kiyora''s now. "Surely, there must be someone else you could get advice from with a greater interest?"


    "Well, yeah, but I appeared here first," said Kiyora.


    "Very well," mused the demoness. There is no one more suited to any task than myself. Tell me, does this miserable personage have any other wives?"


    "Four of them," said Kiyora.


    "Well, then, that is a simple matter. You must marry him and make yourself his favorite wife," said the demoness, examining her claws. "Then you kill him in his sleep and plant evidence that one of the other wives did the deed."


    "Any ideas which don''t involve murder?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, that is a complication, isn''t it?" mused the demoness thoughtfully. "Not allowed to use murder as a solution, an exciting issue. First of all, I must know who wants this marriage to happen?"


    "The Emperor Ictargo," said Kiyora. "He''s kind of like the God-Emperor of where I''m from. Also, the Goddess Alchara, she''s the one pulling strings."


    "And why do they support the marriage?" asked the demoness.


    "Well, see, she has this whole eugenics program. She wants to make sure the bloodline of his royal family keeps getting stronger," said Kiyora. "Then there was something about creating the culmination of elven evolution. Or something. I don''t know. I didn''t quite get it."


    "Interesting." mused the demoness. "What resources do you have?"


    "Well, I mean, I''m a goddess here, but in the real- world, I''m just an ordinary person," said Kiyora. "Well, not really, but I don''t have an army or anything."


    "Well, this does not bode well for you," mused the demoness. "Are there any common elements in your world? Any deities worshipped there that are also worshipped here?"


    "Well, there is Alchara," said Kiyora. "She is like Emperor Ictargo''s wife, except he answers to her. Um, she created my entire species."


    "Well then, the answer is simple," said the demoness. She launched herself from the pillar to land on her throne. "Those miserable high elves to the east over the river also worship Alchara. They praise her constantly. We need only make an alliance, descend on their civilization, and snuff most of it out.


    "Eventually, we can give Alchara an ultimatum. Tell her that she must call off the wedding if she wants the killings to stop. We''ll have taken much territory, and you''ll be free to marry as you please."


    "Right, okay," Why had Kiyora come here again? "I''m going to get a second opinion before I sack any cities."


    "Whatever for?" asked the demoness. "My viewpoint is always right, so you''ll just be wasting your time."


    "I don''t think you''re as smart as you think you are," said Kiyora.


    "You are quite correct," said the demoness. "In my diminished state, I cannot comprehend my full glory. Do come back when you wish to discuss war plans."


    Kiyora teleported. She suspected that looking in the Mirror of Laevian had knocked more than a few screws loose. The Demoness was less impressive than she used to be.


    Finding herself in the halls of the palace of Arsheen, she saw someone she hadn''t seen in months. The soldier was clad in a white tunic and gray pants instead of his worn black armor. He also had a scar on his face, which hadn''t been there. But she knew him by his brown hair and thin features.


    "Dreaming Goddess, to what do we owe the pleasure?" he asked.


    "Sarris, right?" said Kiyora. "You were the commander of that fort, Laughing Wraith attacked. Um, how have you been?"


    "Well, I''ve been presiding over the reconstruction of Asimir''s territories," said Sarris. "Duke Vanion has replaced most of Asimir''s allies. And he has given the positions to people under his control. It should ensure that even if the Duke is replaced as governor, he''ll hold power over this place." He paused for a moment. "At the moment, I''ve come to speak with Duke Vanion regarding certain formalities."


    "What formalities?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well," said Sarris, "Duke Vanion has ordered me to marry the daughter of Lord Asimir. He hopes to keep any ideas of rebellion from cropping up by giving Asimir a chance to regain his lands. Any sons or daughters I might have would be of his blood and heirs to the land.


    "So if Asimir doesn''t do anything treacherous, his family will get their lands back."


    "That''s pretty sneaky," said Kiyora. "Don''t you have a problem with it?"


    "No," admitted Sarris. "She is beautiful, and I understand the need for continuity. Duke Vanion does not make bad decisions. I wanted to consult him about what kind of ceremony I should have. I thought I should have a Harlenorian one dedicated to Elranor. But I''m afraid that might prove provocative. The worship of Baltoth hasn''t faded entirely from the region."


    "Well, you could try mixing Calishan and Harlenorian customs," suggested Kiyora.


    "Which is why I am going to speak with Duke Vanion," said Sarris.


    "So where is he anyway?" asked Kiyora. "I need to ask him for advice on something private."


    "He is having tea with Lord Telus," said Sarris. "They usually discuss business, so I won''t interrupt them. However, I''m certain he''ll be willing to break off his current engagement for you."


    "Why?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, you are a goddess," said Sarris. "It isn''t every day one asks him for advice. It would only improve his reputation."


    "Good point," mused Kiyora. "Could you take me to him?"


    Sarris led her into a secluded courtyard filled with many plants and trees. These were not like the other trees in Artarq. They had been brought from far away and placed into this place. Spells were in this place to make the room the right temperature.


    There was a fountain on either side of the courtyard, and at the center, there was a pavilion. There Duke Vanion was having tea with two others at a table. First, a big, burly man with a long blonde beard, and second, a horrifically ugly woman. Her nose was crooked, and her face was scarred. As Kiyora approached, she wondered what had happened to her.


    "Raynald informs me your daughter Tanith continues to distinguish herself, Edmund," said Vanion. "You should be proud."


    "Yes, she always did have a talent for battle," said the man. "Raynald must have taught her well."


    "She has proven herself a great asset," said Vanion, sipping a cup of tea. "Such heroism in a family should be rewarded. I understand that your middle child, Sunthred, has a certain talent for administration."


    "Yes," said Edmund. "He has a good head for business and knows how to motivate people. Unfortunately, he isn''t due to inherit anything. Not like my worthless firstborn." He looked at his tea. "Don''t you have any sugar?"


    "Unfortunately, we ran out a while ago," said Vanion. "And due to certain revelations regarding how sugar is made, I have chosen not to purchase any more. There is honey, of course."


    "Right, right," said Edmund, "I remember you wrote me a letter or two about that."


    "Now then, in regards to Sunthred. I may be of some service," said Vanion. "Several Lords of Artarq recently betrayed me. The usual defections and conspiracies. Thus, their territories are forfeit. Of course, I will need new administrators. Some will be given to those native Lords who proved themselves worthy. Others to those worthy families who have served me best.


    "I thought I might give your family the territory of Lord Rustaf. I recently conquered his castle, and I thought Sunthred might enjoy a chance to prove himself."


    "You honor us," said Edmund.


    "The Telus family has always been a staunch ally of the Gabriels. And you, Edmund, have always been a good friend," said Vanion. "I have always enjoyed our time together. Of course, my administrators will provide some oversight."


    "Why should that be necessary?" asked Edmund, an edge in his voice.


    "A simple precaution," said Vanion. "People in Artarq have many customs and traditions which should be honored. Once Sunthred has grasped all those, I shall, of course, allow him free reign. Better to break in gradually rather than rush in."


    "I suppose that makes sense," said Edmund. "Is there anything I can do to return the favor?"


    "Well, at present, I am very much in a position of power," mused Vanion. "Still, there may come a day when I need help, and when that day comes, I may take you up on your most generous offer. Now, let us turn our minds to other things.


    "How are you enjoying the gardens of Arsheen, Rebecca?"


    He turned to the hideous woman with courtesy, and she smiled slightly. "They are beautiful. Very beautiful, Vanion." She looked like she wanted to say more but hesitated.


    Edmund coughed. "There is a matter weighing heavily on Rebecca''s heart."


    "What can I do to help, milady?" asked Vanion.


    Rebecca seemed to be striving to find the words. It looked like she wasn''t used to being addressed, but the Duke waited patiently. He didn''t show any sign of fear or disgust at her features. Kiyora was impressed. Elves always healed perfectly, so they didn''t have things like that. How could humans bear getting scars?


    "What happened to her face?" she asked quietly.


    "She was cursed by Laevian when she was young, and her face was scarred all over," said Sarris. "Lord Telus fell in love with her despite that and married her anyway. A few people mocked him for it, but Raynald cut off their heads. After that, people stopped."


    Kiyora was just going to let the last bit pass. "Why would Laevian curse her?"


    "Who knows?" asked Sarris. "Laevian loves diseases and hates people."


    "Vanion, is Tanith holding together?" blurted out Rebecca.


    "Hmm?" asked Vanion.


    "She''s always been a somewhat unstable girl," said Rebecca. "I''ve been terrified; she''ll go to pieces."


    "I''m told that she is embracing her duties with extraordinary enthusiasm," said Vanion. "Raynald tells me she enjoys her work, Rebecca." He paused. "However, now that you mention it, I fear she may enjoy her work too much."


    "What do you mean?" asked Edmund.


    "I''ve read some of her reports," said Vanion. "And the reports of the other officers, dozens of them. I''ve detected a certain bloodthirsty tinge in them that wasn''t there before. Men who despised violence before now seem to love it. Rusara has noticed as well a specific taste for blood in the army.


    "It concerns me."


    "Well, they are fighting demons," said Edmund. "Raishans is a demon, aren''t they? That is bound to affect them somehow."


    "Yes," mused Vanion. "Demons are a horrible enemy to fight because their presence affects you. It drags on your thoughts, making you think like them. It is similar to what gods do but on a much more subtle scale.


    "I only pray that we can finish this campaign before any lasting harm is done. That brings me to the next subject. I''ve been negotiating with Baltoth for an alliance against the raishans."


    "What?" said Edmund, stunned.


    "Vanion, surely you cannot be serious," said Rebecca.


    "I have my reasons, I assure you," said Vanion. "For one thing, Baltoth is only sitting things out in his territory right now. He is watching our armies fight. If this continues, he may decide that he can take Artarq with minimal trouble. If I can convince him to engage the raishans in a war, it will help bring a swift end to this conflict. And it will also keep his armies occupied."


    "It does make sense," mused Edmund. "You were always better at these sorts of machinations. But are you sure we can trust them not to turn on us?"


    "Baltoth doesn''t break his word," said Vanion. "It is one of his great virtues."


    "Virtues?" asked Rebecca. "Surely, you cannot be serious, Vanion. Baltoth is a beast."


    "As a Lord of Harlenor, I must hate him," said Vanion. "But if Baltoth lacked virtues, we should have defeated him long ago. He is the great enemy, and we must take him seriously. So let us not delude ourselves that he has no good points."


    Then he looked up at Kiyora, and she realized he''d been aware of her from the beginning. He was sharp, wasn''t he? "Ah, Kiyora, I was wondering when you would appear."


    "Duke Vanion," said Kiyora, "could I get your advice on something."


    "Who is this elf?" asked Edmund, the edge returning to his tone. "There seems something strange about her?"


    "This is the Dreaming Goddess," said Vanion. "She has become a family friend over the past year."


    "You always were good at making allies," muttered Edmund.


    Rebecca put a hand on Edmund''s shoulder. "I''m certain we can enjoy the garden while you assist her with whatever her problem is."


    "My thanks," said Vanion.


    He rose from his seat and descended the stairs to approach Kiyora. Looking to Sarris, he slightly nodded, and the soldier departed. Then Vanion looked to Kiyora. "Now, Kiyora, what is it you need help with?"


    Kiyora considered how best to sum it up. Vanion was in a hurry, and she didn''t want to waste his time. "I... okay, I''m being forced into an arranged marriage with a guy I''ve never met by my goddess, Alchara. A guy who was betrothed to my mother before she broke it off. I need help breaking it up, and I have an idea."


    "What idea?" asked Vanion.


    "Well, I thought I could ally with the satyrs," said Kiyora. "I could threaten to invade the elven reservations if Alchara didn''t call it off."


    "That seems like something of an overreaction, doesn''t it?" said Vanion, tone level.


    "Yeah, I know," said Kiyora. "But Alchara acted like a huge jerk. I can''t think of anything else."


    "This plan of yours might work," admitted Vanion. "But you would gain a small victory at great cost later on. Alchara is far more powerful than you. She is in a position to cause you great trouble in the future if you alienate her now."


    "So what can I do?" asked Kiyora.


    "First of all, what tone exactly did your meeting with Alchara end at?" asked Vanion.


    "A pretty bad one, I guess," said Kiyora. "She tried to mind-control me. I swore at her and left. I was pretty pissed off."


    "Unfortunate." mused Vanion. "You must learn to control your temper. First, you should go to her and apologize for any harsh words you may have spoken. Tell her that though you do not like the situation, you will submit to her greater judgment."


    "That doesn''t help at all," said Kiyora.


    "On the condition that she meet directly with me," said Vanion. "So that we can discuss the matter directly. She must be made aware of a few complications in this scheme of hers."


    "Duke Vanion," said Kiyora, "I know you''re brilliant and all, but do you really think you can talk Alchara out of this?"


    "I''m hopeful that I can," said Vanion. "You''d be surprised what one can accomplish with an appeal to reason."


    "But what if you can''t?" asked Kiyora.


    Vanion smiled. "You are a neutral faction in Seathorius with good relations with Harlenor. I can hardly have you becoming a puppet of Alchara, can I?"


    "Right," Kiyora found herself smiling despite herself.


    Duke Vanion had something planned. She had no idea what it was, but it was worth a shot. First, however, she had to apologize to Alchara.


    Oh damn, she had to apologize to Alchara. It was best to put it off until everyone has calmed down. She''d just stick around the dream world. It wasn''t like there was anything she wanted to do in the real world right now. And she couldn''t be married off while she was in a coma.

 Chapter Twenty-three: The War Continues

    Two weeks later, William sat upon a stone wall, playing music for Massacre. The notes were coming off his harp without him even noticing. He waited for Tanith to call for him and was less than impatient. The chimera was lying on her back, basking in the sun, and did not seem to mind that he was not using the Goldenwood Harp. It helped him forget what had been happening. Two weeks of blood and death. Plunging into the depths of raishan nests alongside Tanith and Kusher. Two weeks of playing his harp until he was afraid he would break it.


    Two weeks.


    He''d seen a lot of horrible things in this time. Villages depopulated were the most common. Those who once dwelled in them had fled or died beneath the scythes of the raishans. Even those they got to in time had masses of wounded he had to heal. And plenty of dead. These days, he no longer accompanied the strike force into the raishan nests. He''d had one too many near misses. Anyone else could be replaced, but his connection to the divine could not. Less easily, anyway.


    Rusara was sitting beside him. She had appeared out of nowhere, as usual. He looked up to where she was gazing at him carefully.


    "I wish there was more I could do," he said.


    "You are doing as much as you can, William," said Rusara. "We must all play our part."


    "Yes, but it isn''t enough," said William. "People are still dying."


    "It might be worse," mused Rusara. "I expected I would hear the news that Krishiv and all its people had been massacred without us. Fortunately, they held out as long as they did."


    "I expect the Calishans will start another war after this one," mused William.


    "Perhaps. Perhaps not," said Rusara. "I received news from your father."


    "Yes?" asked William.


    "Vanion is sending reinforcements as we speak. He is gathering an army from the Harlenorian Kingdoms," said Rusara. "The Kings of Harlenor have all the records on the raishans. If they are wise, they will respond."


    "What do you think they will do?" asked William.


    Rusara considered the question. "Tyus Vortegex, the King of Escor, will send nothing himself; his position is unstable. I do not know him, but if he is wise, he may call adventurers and mercenaries to go west to fight raishans. That will get the violent young men out of the country and decrease the chances of civil war.


    "King Andoa is well disposed to Duke Vanion. He will believe him. However, he has already dispatched troops to Artarq, so he will be slow to escalate."


    "And what of my land?" asked William. "What of Haldren?"


    "I fear they will send nothing at all," said Rusara.


    "You can''t be serious, Lady Rusara," said William. "I know King Gavin regards Father as a rival, but he must see the trouble."


    "He will see a lack of profit to be made," said Rusara. "And he will see something else. That Vanion might have his unassailable reputation for victory dented. I''m afraid people can be shortsighted about these things."


    "The men have been talking about that," said William. Most people want more than glory in war. They want money and wealth and slaves. And no one is getting that here.


    "What about the Calishans? How are Father''s negotiations going?"


    "He is making great progress," said Rusara. "Baltoth does see the need. He has a living memory of the last raishan invasion. A large Calishan army is on its way to his allies in Khasmir. We''ve agreed to stay out of each other''s way for now, and they''ve already won several major victories."


    "Most armies would be defeated," mused William. "After the number of victories we''ve had, they should have already lost. Will we have to destroy every last raishan?"


    "Eventually, yes," said Rusara. "Fortunately, we managed to catch them before they became too formidable. We''ve already freed most of those they brought with them, which limits the size of the forces they can muster.


    "Unless they can gain significant victories very soon, their days are numbered."


    "Do you think we''ll fight them again?" asked William.


    "It is possible," mused Rusara. "It depends on many factors." She looked down at his harp. "I notice you are using a different harp from usual."


    "Yes," said William, "I wanted to see if Massacre enjoyed my music when I wasn''t using the Goldenwood Harp."


    "Is this about what Kusher said to you back in the meteor?" asked Rusara.


    "Yes," said William. "I''m afraid I''ll end up stunting my growth."


    "Well, I applaud using an ordinary harp in the circumstances," said Rusara. "It shows you are taking things seriously. And there was some truth in his words. Kusher is far more intelligent than you''d think at first glance."


    At that moment, Felix got back. The boy ran up to the wall and nearly tripped over Massacre. He stepped on her tail, and Massacre let out a yowl as she stood up. Felix backed up as the chimera glared daggers at him.


    "Easy girl," said William, scratching her behind the ears, "what news, Felix?"


    "They are ready for you," said Felix.


    "Right," said William. "Come on, Massacre." He handed Felix his harp. "Take this back to the village chief. Then catch up with us."


    "Understood," said Felix.


    William donned his helmet. Together he and Rusara made their way out of the village. Felix caught up to them as they got to the cave''s mouth.


    The cave had been delved into the edge of a plateau and blocked up with stones. They''d searched for days to find it, but Massacre had located it in a few hours. Now, judging by the raishan corpses lining the inside, it was safe.


    William walked into it, following the tunnel down into the earth, pausing only to summon light. As they walked, they began to hear voices.


    "Do you know what is the worst thing about fighting raishans?" He heard Kusher say.


    "The lack of plunder," said Tanith.


    "The money is a small concern. No real warrior concerns themselves with it more than they have to," said Kusher. "I mean the real worst thing. They always do everything the same. We''ve had three battles with these things, and in every one of them, they charge head-on and die in droves. It''s a paltry sport.


    "Do they want to die?"


    "They might," mused Tanith. "They are the souls of the damned after us. Maybe they want to be released."


    "How pleasant for them," said Kusher. "But I want variety in the things I kill. Even the defenses in this nest were weak. Rusara burned through them easily, and then we cut down the rest in a melee. There is no more fun in slaughtering these damn animals."


    They rounded the corner and found Tanith and Kusher sitting near dozens of dead raishans. Their men were there as well. And beyond them were hundreds upon hundreds of eggs. Just looking at them hurt William''s eyes. He could practically hear the souls within screaming for release.


    Tanith glanced up. "William, there you are. Where have you been?"


    "Is there anyone in need of healing?" asked William.


    "Our healer saw to them," said Tanith. "It''s nothing serious. Get rid of these eggs for now."


    "As you wish," said William.


    "Remind me again why we can''t just smash these damn things?" muttered Kusher.


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    "Destroying the eggs is only a temporary solution," said William. "The souls corrupted within them would not be purified. Instead, they would go to the nearest raishan nest and be reincarnated there. If I purify them, the souls will go on to their next life, free of the-"


    "Nevermind, I''m not interested," muttered Kusher. "Just destroy them already."


    William unslung the Goldenwood Harp and began to play it. As the music filled the chamber, he felt the raishans with his mind. They were in pain, tormented spirits trying to escape, and he felt no resistance from them. He could feel the spells upon the raishans weakening, feel the souls going free.


    Then he felt something else. It was a glimmer of intellect, and he suddenly felt anger. As he played, William found himself thinking over how often he had done this. How many nests of raishans had he put down? How many souls had he freed? How much had he interfered with the plans of whoever was behind this?


    He did not know why, but he felt an impotent fury. All this effort, and what was the result?


    What was he thinking? The result was the destruction of the raishans and the salvation of souls. That was his purpose here, wasn''t it? William suddenly felt he was not entirely who he thought he was.


    Then it was gone. The eggs around him had shattered and disappeared into the cave floor. This always happened. He always felt strange after making contact with the raishans mind. "I wish others could take my place in all this," muttered William. "I''d much rather be fighting with a sword."


    "You''ll get your chances soon enough, Will," said Tanith. "Where has Felix got to?"


    "I''m here," said Felix over by the wall. He was listening against it and tapping it experimentally. "This wall is hollow and is a crack where something could slip under here."


    "Really?" asked Rusara. "Step back, and we''ll soon see."


    Felix obeyed. Rusara snapped her fingers. An explosion of green flame flared, and the wall melted before their eyes. William shielded his eyes from the light, feeling the feet on his face.


    "Lady Rusara, I didn''t know you could burn stone," said Tanith.


    "It is more difficult, but in my experience, with enough heat, you can burn just about anything." mused Rusara.


    William made his way forward toward the way in. Raising his light, he entered into the passage. Within, he saw yet another cluster of eggs. The raishans must have hidden them in here, hoping to avoid their eyes.


    He looked at the walls. "Strange, it looks almost as though something doused these walls in acid." mused William. "No matter." He glanced up. "More eggs. I''ll get to work on them right-"


    "Look out!" cried Felix.


    William ducked, and just in time. A glob of green liquid spat over his head and crashed into the wall, melting it away. William drew out his sword and turned to see a massive raishan descending from the ceiling. It had four scythe arms and two sets of mandibles, and he scarcely had time to raise his shield before it slashed at him.


    The force against the shield was like a thunderbolt. He staggered back and took a stance. William could hear battle cries from the other chamber, but he had no time to wonder. He warded off blow after blow, trying to get his sword out. Finally, he managed it, and the beast slammed him against the wall.


    He felt the impact and slumped to the ground. The monster opened its mandibles and leaned in close. He rolled away quickly and just in time as yet more acid was spat against the wall. He brought down his sword and hit the beast on the head. The blade cut deep, but not deep enough. Drawing it out, William struck again and again.


    Finally, the beast''s head was cut from its shoulders, and the body lay still.


    The sound of battle had ended, and he made his way out to find the others. Several more of the men had died in the fighting, and there were dozens of raishans around them. Tanith''s breastplate was hissing and burning in several places. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Are you alright?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Tanith. "My armor caught the worst of it." She glanced up. "Rusara, you''re the expert on these things. Why did they suddenly gain the power to spit acid?"


    "Raishans grow more powerful the older they are," said Rusara. "As the soul becomes more corrupted, the beast can access more of its power. I suspect we have been fighting younger raishans until now, and these were some of the older ones."


    "Well, at least killing them will be more interesting now," muttered Tanith.


    "I''ll start breaking the spell," said William.


    "Not yet," said Rusara. "You play too important a role in this army to be risked for just anything. Tanith searched that whole passage. When you are done, William will free the spirits of those within."


    The men moved off, and William and Felix approached. William could feel his heart still beating hard from the fighting. Sweat dripped down his brow. He''d need to get used to this.


    "Lady Rusara, isn''t this a bit futile?" asked Felix suddenly.


    "How do you mean?" asked Rusara.


    "We only managed to purge a few of the nests within the meteors before they spread to the outside world," said Felix. "Now, they are establishing new nests throughout the land. And we''re starting to face more dangerous ones. We might just be delaying the inevitable if they keep laying eggs."


    "You needn''t fear, Felix," said Rusara. "Raishans cannot create souls, only twist them into their image. Every time William or another holy man destroys a nest, their number of souls diminishes. They can only increase it by capturing the souls of the living or drawing more souls from hell.


    "For the first, it takes a great deal of time to twist a soul into a raishan; the less wicked the person, the harder it is. We likely freed many of those they were attempting to subvert here. As for the second, it would take a direct connection to the hells to do that."


    "I don''t understand why they would appear in those meteors," said William. "Couldn''t they just have someone summon them?"


    "Raishans are not an intelligent breed of demon," said Rusara. "They usually play the role of servants to a higher power. I doubt they could have arranged their summoning. As for the meteors, it was rather clever. Demons cannot enter areas where the gods hold sway unless a mortal summons them.


    "But if those meteors came from a place where no god held sway? Then, they might appear freely. They must have burrowed into them, then set them in motion to strike this world." Then she paused. "No, something would still need to draw them here to enter their domain.


    "They were still summoned. Just not here."


    "Kusher, are there any nexuses of powerful unholy energy in Khasmir that you know of?" asked William.


    "How in Kreshlak''s name should I know?!" asked Kusher. "We satyrs do not concern ourselves with such weak things as magic!"


    "Of course," said William. "I apologize for making assumptions."


    There was silence for a moment. "Relg may know more," said Kusher reluctantly. "He has an interest in such things."


    "Then, I''ll be sure to speak with him," said William. Didn''t most satyrs concern themselves with such things?


    "Lady Rusara, we''ve searched the whole passage," said Tanith. "The eggs are now unguarded."


    "Excellent work," said Rusara. "William, play your part."


    William did it again. But this time, it was far harder. The souls within these eggs were not fighting against their imprisonment. They were almost attached to it, and when he tried to break their chains, they thrashed and tore at him. It hurt him, and he had to withdraw his mind initially.


    William made another attempt. The creatures clawed at his mind, and there was a horrible resolve. They clung to their slavery and defended it ferally. However, he had his own power, and Elranor was his help. He wrestled them free and shattered the spells.


    It was over.


    "We''re done here," said William. "The spirits have been pacified."


    They burned their dead {After taking their valuables, of course.} and made their way out. Tanith stretched as they entered the sunlight and let out a happy sigh. "Finally, we''re out of that hole!"


    "I thought you liked fighting, Tanith," said Felix.


    "Of course I do," said Tanith. "That doesn''t mean I like going into cramped caves. Fighting in them is hard. And I hate not making a profit."


    "Being a warrior is not about profit," said Kusher, looking unsteady. "It is about cutting down one''s enemies and spilling their blood on the fields of their home."


    "Well, obviously, but profit is nice all the same," said Tanith.


    They were tired. William didn''t blame them. It seemed like they had been doing this for an eternity. He looked to Rusara. "Lady Rusara, I''d like to ask you a question, and I''d appreciate it if you told me the answer without embellishment."


    "What is it, William?" asked Rusara.


    "Are we winning?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Rusara. "Yet our victory is at the edge of a cliff. If you or any other holy men are killed, things could turn against us. As things stand, I think we will have destroyed the raishans within a few months. If the situation changes, the war could last years.


    "That is why you must not rush into anything."


    "I understand," said William.


    That night, they ate well in the hall of the grateful chieftain. Many of his warriors had accompanied them. The chieftain himself had stayed behind due to an injury. As they ate and drank, warriors told stories of their exploits. Some were on this battlefield, others in the distant past. William didn''t have much to add; he had played his harp, and what people wanted to hear about was blood and death.


    As things calmed down, he saw Kusher and Tanith speaking alone to one side. Kusher was showing Tanith a talisman in the shape of a hammer. "You see this?" asked the satyr. "This is a symbol of Kreshlak. Those who bear it are marked as true warriors. He wants you to have this."


    "Me?" asked Tanith. "How do you know?"


    "I saw a vision last night," said Kusher, "I dreamed I was standing in a field of bloody corpses. Thousands lay dead on the ground of battle. I saw a figure leading the armies of Kreshlak into battle in glorious carnage. They devastated a thousand worlds.


    "The figure I saw was you. But not as you are now."


    "Have you been drinking?" asked Tanith.


    "No," said Kusher. "Well, yes, but the point is that you should take up the worship of Kreshlak."


    "I serve Elranor," said Tanith.


    "As do I," said Kusher, "but someone may serve two gods. Kreshlak is far more after your heart."


    "After your heart, maybe," said Tanith. "I serve Elranor."


    "You know better," said Kusher. "I''ve seen you in battle, how you throw yourself into the fighting. You love it more than even I do. The death, the risk, the worthy enmity. What harm can there be in serving a god who understands you?"


    Tanith looked at the amulet for a long moment. She reached out for it. For a moment, William thought she would draw it back. Then she took it. "Well, I don''t see the harm. Thanks." She tied the amulet around her neck. "All I have to do is keep doing what I already do."


    "Precisely," said Kusher. "All who lust for battle serve Kreshlak, just as all who love justice serve Elranor. I am glad you have joined us."


    William arose and departed the hall and walked to sit down on the steps of the great hall. The strange presence he had felt within the raishans troubled him. It had been like a voice that had been whispering in his mind. Whispering until he thought it was his own. He hadn''t been feeling like himself for a moment.


    "What is wrong?" asked Felix.


    "Nothing," said William.


    "No," said Felix, "it is not nothing. I know you?"


    "I''ve been staring into the abyss a lot," said William. "I hate being in contact with those monsters. It''s just an endless hunger and hatred which drives them."


    "Well-" began Felix.


    Whatever words of comfort or wisdom Felix might have said were never spoken. There was a sudden beating of wings, and a black blur landed before them on one knee and one hand. A familiar demoness looked up at him. "Good evening, dear."


    "You-" began William.


    Then she punched him in the face, and everything went black.

 Chapter Twenty-four: Karasush

    William''s head hurt. It hurt a lot. He was also cold. Colder than he had been even in Khasmir. As he gradually pulled himself up, he found himself within what appeared to be a small hut. Sitting cross-legged near the far wall was the demoness, her tail whipping. Her bright blue eyes flared as he stood. His sword was still at his side, and his shield was slung over his back.


    "Oh, you''re awake," said the demoness. "I must say I like the new armor. It makes you look almost credible."


    "Where am I?" asked William, inching his hand for his sword.


    "In one of the villages that didn''t quite manage to hold out or flee," said the demoness. "Don''t worry; all the bodies are gone; the raishans are pretty good at cleaning up after themselves. All of the valuables are gone, too. The worshippers of Fortenex have been stripping the villages the raishans attack.


    "Rather clever."


    He grabbed his sword and surged forward to strike down the heartless-


    Her tail lashed out, and he was thrown against the wall hard. As he tried to rise again, her tail slapped him backward, whipping him several times. His armor kept it from hurting him, but the weight behind her strikes was insurmountable.


    "Ah, yes," said the demoness in a bored tone. "You only survived our last encounter because I was toying with you, right?"


    "No, you weren''t," said William, his scar burning.


    "Believe what you will," said the demoness, looking around. "We won''t be staying long here. I just thought we might stop and admire the scenery while I reveal the whole plan to you."


    Not this again. William had had enough of her posturing in Seathorius. "Why would you reveal your plans for me?"


    "Because they aren''t my plans," said the demoness with a yawn. "Anyway, I''m mostly doing it for my entertainment. That is the purpose of the universe, after all.


    "Now, how to begin? Ah yes. This little invasion is not my doing but the doing of a satyr named Karasush. A warlock of some power and a good name among the worshippers of Fortenex. He sent his will far afield. And he used it to summon the raishans to this place. His goal was to cause untold havoc, hoping he might step into the wreckage and build an empire."


    William decided to humor him. "How?" he asked. "How could anyone be powerful enough to summon meteors?"


    "He had help." said the demoness. "Several higher powers assisted him. In any case, we are here and going to him."


    "Why would you help him?" asked William. That was a stupid question. She''d do anything to appease her vanity.


    "Oh, he''s helping me," said the demoness. "Some time ago, he realized my brilliance and inherent superiority. Thus, he offered me the opportunity to lay hands upon a weapon of unfathomable power. It is known only as the Axe of Fortenex."


    "Does it have something to do with Fortenex?" asked William.


    "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit," mused the demoness.


    "No wonder you use it so much," said William. "What makes you think he''ll just give you this axe? And what does it have to do with me?"


    "One might say the axe is my birthright," said the demoness. "And Karasush will not be doing the giving. As for you, since you are so very self-centered, I shall get right to the point. I tried to kill you because your existence was an anchor for Melchious''s will. If and when he fully recovers, he should be able to use you to claw his way back in.


    "Now, the less intelligent would simply cut your throat and hope for the best. However, I have far grander aspirations. When I have gotten the Axe of Fortenex, we shall go to the plan''s next step. Karasush and his minions will use you to draw Melchious into the physical plane.


    "Constrained by a mortal body, I shall kill him again. And this time, it will stick."


    "Astonishing," said William. "As always, you astonish me."


    "It is refreshing to have one''s perfection acknowledged," mused the demoness.


    "No, I''m astonished because this is an idiotic plan," said William. "First off, unless I''m mistaken, you''ve only just met this Karasush person. How can you possibly trust him? And as for just being given the Axe of Fortenex, I''m assuming that Fortenex would be the one to hand it to you. In this imagined reality, why would he give to you of all people?"


    "Why wouldn''t he?" asked the demoness.


    "Fortenex is a god of bloodlust and slaughter who values loyalty," said William. "You are a scheming manipulator who betrays almost everyone she works with. How could you possibly be found worthy-" He was slammed backward again.


    "Silence!" said the demoness in sudden anger. "Oh, I do apologize. Sometimes, I become reckless when I hear heresy. You might want to stop dissuading me from this course of action, dear. After all, if I decide to call it off, then my first order of business would be to kill you."


    "Yes, but then you''d have to admit you were wrong about something," noted William.


    "In such situations, I simply pretend it was my plan," admitted the demoness.


    "Rather an elaborate setup for what could have been a swift kill," mused William.


    "Stop questioning my magnificence," said the demoness.


    "No," said William.


    The demoness looked to have something to say to that. But suddenly, she looked up, and William followed her gaze. The wind was howling. Outside the window, he saw a great storm of snow approaching them. As it came to the house, it settled down, swirling into a vortex. Finally, it dispersed to reveal a tall satyr clad in robes. He wore an iron mask that covered his face and a long tan cloak.


    "Well, if it isn''t my dear associate himself," said the demoness. "I am flattered that you came out here to provide me an escort befitting my glory. How have you been, Karasush?"


    "Well enough," said Karasush. "I see you brought him."


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    "But of course," said the demoness. "What other would I bring to so desolate a meeting place?"


    "The question occurred to me before you said it," said Karasush.


    Karasush looked at William. "Now, I imagine you are wondering who I am and what I want."


    "I am told you are named Karasush and that you are, apparently, a mastermind. One behind an elaborate plan to unleash a demonic invasion upon Khasmir," said William. "However, given that she lies with every word out of her mouth, I am inclined to disbelieve anything she says. So I allow you to account for your actions."


    "You speak as one in a position of power," noted Karasush.


    "I assure you, though I am your prisoner, I am not without power," said William. "If any harm comes to me, there is no power in all the world to halt the wrath of Rusara and Raynald."


    "And how would you like us to treat you?" asked Karasush.


    "As the son of a Duke, captured in the battlefield," replied William.


    "Well spoken," said Karasush. "I will grant your request. Come, we had the best return to my liege''s fortress of Yarish. We have purged most of the raishans in this region, yet some stragglers may remain. You will be our guest there, and we may take this time to explain matters more carefully."


    "I''m in no position to refuse you," noted William.


    "And what of our agreement, Karasush?" asked the demoness.


    "I said I might be able to draw Melchious into his body so that he could be killed directly," mused Karasush. "I did not say I would do it. I am already more than reasonable by letting you try for the Axe of Fortenex. I owe you no favors."


    "But of course," said the demoness. Her tone was cheerful. William could only assume she was plotting bloody vengeance. "I shall accompany you, and we shall speak no more of this."


    "Now we shall return home by a faster route than simply traveling by foot," said Karasush. "Stay where you are while I contact the spirits." Raising a hand, he snapped his fingers. Snow whipped up around them, swirling faster and faster around them. Then it settled.


    They were standing on top of a hill overlooking a large village. It was a place of wooden halls with slanted roofs and a ramshackle look. The wind was even worse here, and many pine trees loomed over them. There was a great hall in the center of the village. Behind was a small shrine with an entrance so dark that he couldn''t see a foot inside. It radiated hostility. That was strange since it couldn''t have been more than twelve feet tall, and it was far thinner than that. It was also of a very different design from the village far below, with a more rounded look to it.


    "You used your power over the spirits of this land to shift our location," noted William. "And this place was nowhere in sight of that village. You must be a mighty sorcerer to do that over such a large distance."


    "You are perceptive, aren''t you?" mused Karasush.


    "My mentor Rusara taught me well," said William. "Tell me, how is it that you have gained such mastery? You must have a very close relationship with the spirits."


    "In truth, it is only one spirit," said Karasush. "The dominant spirit of Khasmir and much of its power rests within this ring. The Lady Rusara has one like it, does she not?"


    "Yes," said William. "A ring within which a spirit of eternal flame resides. I have never heard how she got it, but her hints tell me it was no easy task. How did you attain yours?" He was curious and wanted Karasush to be at ease with his presence.


    "How does one attain power? There is but one way. Through service to a being greater than oneself?" asked Karasush. "You, of all people, ought to understand that."


    "Some of us have not shackled ourselves to lesser beings," mused the demoness. "Now, where is the temple? Is it there?" She motioned to the hall.


    "No. That is the great hall of the chieftain of this village," said Karasush. "The temple is there." And he motioned to the shrine.


    "Interesting," mused the demoness, "your great hall is of similar design to my temple. As for the temple, it is rather smaller than I expected. Are you certain the challenges are worth anything?"


    "Fortenex''s Temple is far larger on the inside," said Karasush. "That is his way. However, we have much to discuss, don''t we?"


    "Yes," said William, "I believe we do. But before we discuss anything, I want to know a few things."


    "Of course," said Karasush. "I will answer any questions you might have."


    "Did your clan unleash the raishans on Khasmir?" asked William.


    "It was a regrettable necessity," said Karasush. "The worshippers of Kreshlak were pressing in closer every day. We feared that we would be overwhelmed and slaughtered. We were thus forced to desperate lengths to save our people."


    "So you summoned a swarm of demons en masse to slaughter men, women, and children," surmised William.


    "That was not my intent," said Karasush. "My original desire was to summon only a few pockets of raishans. They were to distract the worshippers of Kreshlak. Distract them long enough for us to wage a counterattack and drive them out.


    "I reached out with my mind into the depths of the void between worlds and drew a small part of them here. Yet, I did not count on the intervention of a third party.


    "The situation has been spinning out of control since."


    "My, what astonishing twists of fate?" cried the demoness in mock surprise. "Who could have ever foreseen that a pact with an insatiable swarm of monsters could backfire?"


    "We were desperate," said Karasush. "If the servants of Kreshlak were to defeat us, they would have killed every man, woman, and child of our people. And since the raishans arrived, we have been working to destroy them."


    "I''m sure that will be ample consolation for the thousands torn to shreds," said William.


    "I am not making excuses," said Karasush. "Merely explaining what led to this situation. And allow you to fix the mistakes we made. Before yet, more raishans arrive."


    "I was doing just that before you had her kidnap me," said William.


    "And I don''t see how any of this will allow me to come into my rightful inheritance," mused the demoness. William began to suspect that she was not nearly so detached from all this as she pretended. This appearance of idiotic vainglory seemed more a charade by the moment.


    "How do I put this?" murmured Karasush. "Like Baltoth, Fortenex is a demon lord who became a god. That means his infernal realm is very close to the hells, where the raishans operate. And unfortunately, a powerful demon lord, Melchious, has taken their side."


    "Your old master," mused William, looking to the demoness.


    "Hardly," she scoffed, "he wasn''t so much my master as someone who thought he controlled me but was disposed of." That, at least, seemed to be her real feelings.


    "Whatever you think of him, Melchious has returned," said Karasush. "The raishans weaken the borders between the planes by their very presence. And the Temple of Fortenex is attuned to the demon realm.


    "Melchious broke the borders between Fortenex''s realm. Then he allowed the raishans to enter into it. By doing this, he has created a beacon of unholy power. One which will continue to draw the raishans to Khasmir until it is snuffed out."


    "I fail to see how any of this was unexpected," said William. The demoness was correct in her assessment of the situation. "In any case, what is Melchious trying to achieve? From what I''ve learned, he is cunning in his way. He isn''t interested in universal destruction as some of his kind are." S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Ah, yes. You are correct," said Karasush. "I do not know. But I have a suspicion. When he was a mortal, Melchious was once one of Fortenex''s greatest servants. He was found worthy to wield the Axe of Fortenex. Yet he turned against Fortenex. From there, he went into the service of his nemesis¡ªthe Demon Queen Zigildrazia.


    "The Axe of Fortenex was stripped from him. And it was placed in that temple until a worthy warrior takes it."


    "Meaning myself, obviously," said the demoness.


    "What makes you so certain you''re worthy of it?" asked William.


    "Well, I am one of Fortenex''s daughters, after all," said the demoness proudly. "Rather than Melchious, who was many times removed from Father. As for my other qualities, I believe they speak for themselves."


    "They do indeed," said William. "So Melchious wants to get his axe back."


    "Yes. Or so I suspect," said Karasush. "The raishans presence in the temple may be wearing away at the seals which bind the axe in place."


    "Which means you must destroy the beacon drawing the raishans here," said William. "And you want to deny it to Melchious, so you invited her here."


    "Indeed," said Karasush.


    "I see where this is going," said William. "Why didn''t you just ask me for help?"


    "If I were to reveal what transpired here to the clans, they would be howling for our blood," said Karasush. "I hope to avoid the truth from getting out. If it does, my people will surely be slaughtered. And we never meant for things to go this far."


    "Well, they did get this far," snapped William. "And the whole world could suffer for it. Very well, I''ll do it, but on two conditions."


    "Name them," said Karasush.


    "First," said William, "you will pay homage to my father, Duke Vanion, and the King of Antion. Your people will become vassals of Harlenor. With all the benefits and responsibilities that involves."


    "Very well," said Karasush. "We''re in no position to refuse you. What is the other?"


    William didn''t believe him for a second. Karasush had agreed far too quickly, given William''s weak position. He could only assume he was trying to placate him and saying anything he thought William would want to hear. On to the subsequent request. "I want a full escort of troops to accompany me."


    "That... may not be wise," said Karasush.


    "Why not?" asked William. He felt more vindicated in his previous assessment by the moment.


    "Fortenex is a warrior god. Those who enter his temple must pass his tests," said Karasush. "If you take an army with you, at best, they''ll all be picked off individually, and you''ll have to do it alone. The worst-case scenario is that you''ll be killed with them."


    "So Fortenex would rather lose his most sacred artifact to an enemy than allow me to take an army to save it?" asked William.


    "In a word, yes," said Karasush. "There is a certain way these things are done. We''re very set on traditions in Khasmir."


    William doubted he was honest with him, but he was not in a position to argue with the man. "Tell me, why me? You must have holy men of your own."


    "We do," said Karasush. "And I have sent several of my own in already. None returned. You, however, have demonstrated a remarkable amount of power. I believe you are capable of succeeding where they have failed."


    "Alright, I''m game," said William. This was a trap. But if Karasush thought William was buying it hook, line, and sinker, he might need to correct it. "However, when this is over, I expect a written apology in calligraphy." If he could buy some time, he could slip away.


    "Whatever you want," said Karasush. "Provided you return victorious. And if you don''t return, I don''t expect we have anything more to discuss."


    "Very well," said William, "give me a day to prepare, and I will enter the temple and see it purged."


    What had he gotten himself into?

 Chapter Twenty-five: The Temple of Fortenex

    There was no ceiling in the Temple of Fortenex. Or, at the least, it was so high up that clouds had formed above them. Other than that, they appeared to be standing in a massive cathedral. Stained glass windows on the walls showed various bloody and horrific scenes. Heads on stakes, mass hangings, and many less pleasant things. They let in a bit of light at the very least, but it was somehow unpleasant.


    It was to light what blood was to water. Both were a form of liquid. But one was cleansing, and the other a source of impurity.


    He looked at the walls. The stonework was smooth cut and of a dark gray color. There were designs on it, too, of monstrous creatures of all kinds. Where was the demoness?


    William looked up and saw her walking in the distance. He ran to catch up, but space didn''t work the same way here. She couldn''t have been doing anything more than walking. He was sprinting. So why couldn''t he get any nearer to her?


    Then she glanced up, and he reached her easily. It only occurred then that he should not seek out her company. She''d tried to kill him many times, after all. Then again, he had no real allies in this situation, and she was the only person he knew who he might be able to work with. That was very, very sad. "So this is the Temple of Fortenex," he said. "I was expecting a lower ceiling."


    "Karasush did tell you it was larger on the inside," mused the demoness.


    "Yes, but I still didn''t expect this," said William. "This is large, even for a temple."


    "Well, Fortenex likes large buildings," said the demoness. "They make excellent places for battles."


    "It seems to me that that is the last thing one should want in a temple," mused William.


    "Oh, no one who worships Fortenex uses the temple for ceremonies," said the demoness. "Those all happen in the village. The temple is where Fortenex tests his champions to see if they are worthy of his blessings. And also where warriors duel to the death.


    "This is my second time inside one."


    "Really?" asked William, "What was it like the first time?"


    "Unpleasant," mused the demoness. "I lost my left arm."


    William looked at her very much intact two arms. "I can tell."


    "Oh, do shut up," said the demoness. "I can regenerate."


    It was strange talking to her like this. She didn''t seem to be putting on the same airs he''d seen from her before. And there was an oddly contemplative look on her face as they walked. Her blue eyes were not glowing quite so brightly; instead, they were in something of a smolder. It suddenly dawned on William that the demoness was very beautiful. Of course, it was feral and untamed, but it was there all the same. Her black skin was strange, but it didn''t undermine her looks; it just made them more exotic. And her curves-


    William turned his mind away from those particular assets. However vast, he refused to think of women in such a fashion. He''d trained himself not to.


    "I know exactly why you are looking at me," mused the demoness.


    Was he blushing? Time to change the subject. "So, we agree that Karasush intends to betray us the first chance he gets."


    "Oh, almost certainly," said the demoness. "Fortenex is probably watching and applauding at his plan. He means to have me get the axe for him while you clean up his mess. He''ll applaud just as loudly when I skin him alive, though. Father isn''t one for playing favorites."


    "Yes, I gathered from reading about him," said William. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"


    "Not at all. I exist to answer your meaningless questions," replied the demoness. "By all means."


    "You mentioned Melchious is a several times removed descendant from Fortenex?" said William.


    "Yes," said the demoness. "I believe his great-grandmother had a tryst with Father."


    "While you are his daughter." continued William.


    "My mother was a powerful succubus second only to Zigildrazia," said the demoness, a hint of pride in her tone. "Amysta, the demonic archon of lust."


    "Doesn''t that make you Melchious'' great aunt?" asked William. "Several times removed."


    "I suppose it does," mused the demoness. "We demons don''t pay much attention to family connections once they are more than one time removed. It causes too many headaches, and we don''t value them much. Now, what precisely are you edging at?"


    Right, an alliance. "I''m almost certain Karasush is going to try to have me killed after this is over. He can''t have what he''s done get out, and I doubt he''s willing to accept my conditions. He agreed too quickly."


    "My, you are almost intelligent, aren''t you, dear?" asked the demoness.


    "I''m suggesting that we ally," said William. "I''ll help you get the Axe of Fortenex if you help me with my mission. And then we both work together to get away from Karasush." And then, without thinking, he offered her his hand. She stopped and looked at it for a moment.


    "Now, that does sound vaguely appealing," she mused. "Very well." Her tail lashed out and wrapped around Wiliam''s hand. It constricted around it until it hurt before being withdrawn. "Now, let us see what kind of trouble we can get into."


    "Speaking of which, shouldn''t we have run into some of that trouble by now?" asked William. "Where are the raishans?"


    "Absent," said the demoness. "Karasush lied to you."


    "Well, it isn''t as though I can walk out now," muttered William. "Out of curiosity, do you have a name?"


    "Not one I intend to disclose to you, no," said the demoness.


    "Well, I can''t call you demoness repeatedly, can I?" asked William. "We could run into another one of your kind."


    "It hardly matters," she replied. "The vast majority of succubi are similar in personality. They''re all the same. However, they emphasize a different aspect of the same general person. All the demonic species are like that."


    "That sounds dull," mused William.


    ''Well, it makes predicting what they will do the essence of simplicity. Think what you would do, and you know their intentions." said the demoness. "Why do you think demons always try to manifest in the mortal world? There is no variety in hell; everything is all the same after a certain point."


    "And what makes you different?" asked William.


    "I have no loyalty to the cause of hell," said the demoness as though that explained everything.


    "I was under the impression that demons have no loyalty at all," said William.


    "For the most part, you are correct," said the demoness. "Our races all have an inherent devotion to mindless sin and pointless sadism. It allows us to unite against our enemies. With it, we''d get everything done.


    "For my part, I see no value in it. My only plan is my own ascension. If I have to create a perfect world of peace and friendship to become the supreme being over all things, so be it. Though I confess, I would much prefer to see everything on fire.


    "Most demons would rather reign in hell than serve in heaven. I would be perfectly willing to serve in heaven if it meant my eventual godhood."


    "You don''t believe all those proclamations of godhood, do you?" asked William suddenly.


    "It has occurred to me that they may not be true," admitted the demoness. "On the other hand, they may. After all, if I do ever become omnipotent, it is only natural that I would exist beyond the realm of this universe. Indeed, I would have always had to have existed. I cannot prove or disprove what I believe; I can only have faith that it is true."


    William felt strange for a moment. He reviewed the many stories Rusara had told him as a child. Then one, in particular, came to him. "Do you mind if I call you Arraxia?"


    "Hmm?" asked the demoness.


    "Arraxia was a Dust Elven lady; her name means defiance," said William. "You see, at the time, the Dust Elves were refugees in Escor. A Lord of Escor took a fancy to her. He demanded her as a consort, and her father, not desiring a war, agreed to give her.


    "Outraged, Arraxia murdered her father and made war on the Lord. She killed him and many of his allies in many great victories. But the Lord''s son went to his ally, my ancestor, Erik the Voyager. Erik the Voyager killed Arraxia and began a campaign to destroy the dust elves.


    "But his nemesis, Rundas De Chevlon, took the Dust Elves part, and there was a great war. It grew, and all of Escor was consumed in flames."


    "Well, that does sound entertaining," mused the demoness. "Especially since you lost."


    "No one won," said William. "House De Chevlon triumphed in the battlefield, and House Gabriel was forced to flee to Haldren. But their most loyal lieutenant betrayed him before Rundas could make himself King. He was forced to flee to Antion. The Dust Elves went south to Antion as well. They were never popular. Eventually, they settled in the Dusk Lands, a barren region where few people dwell.


    "Even the new King of Escor didn''t do very well. He inherited a Kingdom ripped apart by war and more divided than ever. And how he gained his throne would stain his honor for years." S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, let no one say that the universe doesn''t give happy endings," said the demoness. "What I do not understand is what the connection is?"


    "Well, Arraxia hated the hand that fate had dealt her," said William. "And she responded by murdering thousands of people. Most of whom had only an indirect connection to the one who wronged her at best.


    "It seemed like the sort of thing you''d do."


    The demoness laughed. For all her false humor, it was the first time he''d heard her laugh, and it was strange. She laughed and laughed before finally calming down. Then her tail touched his shoulder. "I would prefer "My Queen," but I suppose if you must call me by a name, that one will do for now."


    "I hope you are used to disappointment if you expect me ever to call you royalty, Arraxia," mused William.


    "Yes, well, I''ve been used to disappointment for many years," mused Arraxia.


    The temple had passed away. Now, they were walking through an endless maze of strange stonework. Looking back, William saw that the path behind them curved straight upwards. Yet, it did not level out. It reached upwards into a stormy green sky with black clouds. There was a tremor beneath their feet, a flash of light, and then the roar of lightning.


    The path turned, and the walls closed behind them as they walked. They could not retrace their steps. Yet they saw no danger and faced no challenges ¡ª this confused William.


    "You''ve asked me many questions, William," said Arraxia. "I think you owe me an answer of your own."


    "That seems fair," said William.


    "You have sworn your service to Elranor, have you not?" asked Arraxia. "If he commanded you to die for him, would you?"


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    William considered the question. He was a paladin of Elranor; it was his duty to serve him. And he knew Elranor would not ask for such a sacrifice lightly. He would only ask it if it were the right thing to do. But would William be willing to lay down his life? He wanted to say yes, but he wasn''t sure. He wished he could say yes.


    "If he called on me to die for him, I hope I would have the strength," said William.


    "Yes, and you shall be called unto the Halls of Knights to sit beside your forefathers. No doubt to await the final battle when Smyngoth awakens and the world ends," muttered Arraxia. ''Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, who cares about the details? It means you are giving up all you are for the sake of another.


    "In essence, you are losing."


    "That is an interesting way to think of it," said William.


    "One is victorious when one''s will is dominant over another," said Arraxia. "When one''s will submits to another, then one is defeated. To give in willingly is to admit a defeat."


    He should respond to that statement in terms she would understand. He wondered if proclaiming how serving others was the right thing to do would get him anywhere. "Yet there are rewards for service," mused William. "One can grow stronger, serving a greater being."


    "Of course, one must accept defeats occasionally for a greater victory," mused Arraxia. "That is why I served Melchious for years before I turned the tables on him."


    "What if you lose, though?" asked William.


    Arraxia blinked. "I don''t."


    The hallways gave way, and they emerged out into a city. It reminded William of the city he had seen in Kiyora''s world. Yet, instead of being grown from the roots of trees, it was formed from stone. Yet William could see no sign of mortar. It was as though someone had carved these buildings out of existing stone. There was also floating masonry here or there. He saw one huge chunk fall from the sky. It descended into nothingness and rose again like a leaf blown by a gust of wind.


    The path they were on was a raised one, hugging the buildings. Now that William thought of it, there was no way to know if this was halfway up. There was mist a little way down obscuring the bottom, and there could be ground beneath it or nothing at all.


    The sky was bright green, and William couldn''t see the sun or clouds anywhere. It was unnerving, and he kept his gaze near his feet as they walked. This was for the best since their path proved dangerous at best. Sometimes, they would come to great gaps. These William would have to step around. Other times, the stones floating above them would drop, and he''d have to dodge them or ward them off with his shield.


    Finally, they came to a far too wide gap to jump. There was also no way around it. An entire segment of the walkway had fallen away. Apraxia flew over it while he sheathed his sword and slung his shield over his back.


    Walking to the building wall, he felt it. The stonework here was rough. He could scale this, and at once, he began to do so. He hadn''t gotten far before he started to regret the decision. He''d long ago become experienced in scaling walls and cliffs. He''d done it enough in his old home of Carn Gable. But he''d never been wearing full armor while doing it before. An ordinary person would never have managed it.


    William thanked his heritage for his greater strength. He also cursed that every passing moment was nearly impossible to get through. Finding footholds was hard, and keeping them in all this armor was harder. He felt sweat drip down his brow and soak his garments as he reached the halfway point. He was halfway there. Just a little farther.


    Then, lightning struck the building above him. The top shattered. Vast stones were thrown skyward, falling toward him, and he clung to the wall, praying for the best. A rock hit him on the helmet, and he almost lost his grip. He was slipping backward. Groping unthinkingly, he caught hold of the wall and pulled himself back.


    William wished that had been the end of it. But he had to scale the rest of the way on his own. Finally, he got off the wall and stepped onto the flagstones. Arraxia said nothing. Instead, she turned and walked onward.


    Actually, they said nothing at all about the journey to that city. Time itself seemed a meaningless concept here. Things just happened without any particular place. It was neither cold nor hot. They could have been in this place a day, a year, or a thousand years. No matter how long William doubted, it would seem any different to them. The city around them looked different from the kind of place someone should speak in. Yet, at the same time, the silence was unbearable.


    The buildings grew larger as they walked closer together. Lightning continued to strike, but never over them as it had before. Soon, the buildings were so close that one could reach either side and touch both. The city had become a tunnel leading downwards.


    William felt trapped like he was in a cage that kept getting smaller. The silence was unbearable. "Arraxia," said William. "If Melchious is here, can we defeat him?"


    "Anything is possible, should I will it," mused Arraxia.


    "Would this be the same way you could get me to sell you my soul?" asked William. "Or possible that I might kill myself after looking into the Mirror of Laevian? Or possible that you might succeed in killing me afterward?" It was a relief to have this conversation.


    "My, you enjoy defying me," mused Arraxia. "It is obvious that the being whom I am an incarnation of had some use for you. Thus, it is arranged for your survival. One might say you owe me your life."


    "No, I owe Kiyora and Elranor my life," said William irritatedly. "And even if we accept what you say is true, you were saving me from dangers you put me in in the first place."


    "It was for your good," said the demoness.


    "I disagree," said William. "The scar over my eye pains me to this day."


    "That scar is but a symbol of your power," said Arraxia. "Imagine a world where I never directed the satyrs to ambush that vessel. You would have arrived in Artarq as spineless and directionless as you began. You would likely have been sent back to Carn Gable without proving your worth. You wouldn''t have learned anything. At best, you would have been a tagalong to Raynald.


    "Perhaps you might have grown in time, but it would have been years in the making. Look at your life now, my dear William. You have built temples, slain monsters, written a book, and hardly turned fifteen.


    "What would you have been if not for me?


    "So you see, I am in many ways your benefactor."


    That was pressing the matter too far. "Far from it," said William. "Elranor is my guide, my benefactor. He used you to force me to grow up. You are trying to tempt me away from his path with your lies."


    "Am I lying?" asked Arraxia. "I''ve read your book; I found it quite an entertaining chronicle of my rise to power. You''re fascinated by me. All the hollow bravado doesn''t change the truth written in your words."


    "I am not fascinated by you!" snapped William. "What you misread was a pity for a delusion animal."


    "Oh?" asked Arraxia, turning around to cup his cheek. It felt predatory. "You''ve enjoyed our verbal sparring as much I have. And weren''t you quick to agree to this, even knowing it would benefit my plans?"


    "I had few options," noted William, shoving her claw away.


    "Helping my master''s enemies so I can survive sounds reasonable," said Arraxia. "But I was under the impression that you held yourself to a higher standard."


    "This has been too easy," said William, looking to change the subject.


    "Hmm?" asked Arraxia.


    "This," said William. "We''ve been walking into the heart of the temple, and we haven''t run into anything. Why hasn''t something tried to stop us?"


    "Well, Melchious was here first," mused Arraxia. "I suspect he passed all the tests for us. It will make it all the more satisfying to crush him."


    "Well, I don''t see him anywhere," said William.


    The path opened into a vast, circular chamber open to the sky. At the very center of it was a brilliant red flame, shooting light upwards into the air. William averted his gaze from the brilliance of it. Then, listening to its crackle, he heard screaming ¡ª screams of fear, agony, pain, and death. An axe was at the center of the flame, though he could make little out of it.


    "Do you think this is the beacon?" asked Arraxia.


    "Well, the pillar of unholy light and the screams of tormented souls might be a sign," mused William.


    "Yes, and they seem to be blocking my path to the Axe of Fortenex," said Arraxia. "Would you be so kind as to deal with this, dear?"


    "But of course, milady. What could make me think we might be at cross purposes?" asked William. "Stand by the far wall where I can see you first."


    The demoness obeyed, and William removed his harp. Strangely, it did not glow as brightly as it once had. He supposed it made sense; he''d been playing it a lot. He''d always hated music, though, despised even the most beautiful symphony. The screams of his enemies were far preferable.


    What? Why was he thinking that?


    William began to play the harp, setting his will against the beacon. Yet, instead of facing resistance, he passed right on into the center of it. The beacon accepted his presence as though he was its master. But why would it? Melchious had created it, hadn''t it?


    "So that''s who I am..." he heard himself murmur.


    The beacon died. And in its place was the Axe of Fortenex. It was magnificent, a two-handed axe made of red steel, as red as blood. It had an edge sharp enough to cut through the skulls of thousands. It was greater than anything he had seen before. No, that wasn''t right; he had seen it before. Long ago, and now he was reclaiming it.


    Yet, first, things had to take their course.


    Sure enough, that miserable demoness was walking forward to take it as though she had been born for it. What lunacy. She would never have amounted to anything without him. He could scarcely contain his fury as she grabbed the axe without ceremony and flourished it.


    "Well, you have a remarkable talent for advancing my goals," said the wretched creature. "I thought you might end up being someone else''s pawn today. Still, I''m surprised. Nothing. No trap. Nothing. I''m honestly rather disappointed in Father-"


    "Not as disappointed in you as I was," William heard himself say.


    Arraxia barely had time to move before William drove his blade into her back. She looked back and saw him, the real him unhindered by flesh and blood, and she knew fear. He could almost taste it.


    She said his name.


    "Melchious."

 Chapter Twenty-six: The Dark Dreamer

    It was a moment Melchious would treasure.


    He made it better by twisting the blade in her back before tearing out the sword and grabbing her by the tail. He swung her against the wall, and her bones made a very satisfying crack.


    However, Arraxia had never been one to give up. Arraxia? Why was he thinking of her by that name? Of course, he knew her true name, yet it would not come to mind.


    In his hesitation, she arose and rushed at him. He brought around one fist and struck her across the face. The blow sent her tumbling head over heels to land on the ground. Satisfied for the moment, Melchous sheathed his sword.


    "Did you think that paltry mirror would be sufficient to stop me?" he asked.


    "It should have," said Arraxia. "I saw all of my atrocities, everything I''d done from a rational perspective, and it nearly broke me. And you''ve had a very creative career. How are you alive?" S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You are correct that gazing into the Mirror of Laevian destroyed my mind," said Melchious. "And I was indisposed for a time. Yet I was more than prepared for the possibility of such an assault and took precautions.


    "I have been breaking off fragments of my spirit for many years. Laughing Wraith was one such entity. Formed from my will, he enacted my plans without any knowledge and allowed me to reach into other worlds. Each time he was killed, that aspect of my personality was restored and broken off again. The paladin whose form I now inhabit was much like him." He looked at his hands, very human hands. "Ironically, you seem to hold him in such affection, but the truth is that William Gabriel never truly existed. I only thought I was him.


    "When I made my deal with his father all those years ago, I implanted a piece of my soul into him. That piece was meant to enter into the wife of the Duke of Brisgald. It would give me control over that region on the borders of my realm.


    "Unfortunately, Duke Vanion manipulated my good intentions for his gain. My avatar was instead born to that harlot from Themious. I''ve spent fourteen years as a Gabriel. Pretending to value all life." He grabbed the axe and spun it around. "Yet my will was still able to work through William, enacting my will even as Elranor enacted his. With the power of the Goldenwood Harp, I could break into Fortenex''s domain. Thus I was able to retrieve that which is rightfully mine. Yet, without being physically present, I could not retrieve the Axe. Thus I made other arrangements.


    "I enhanced the power of Karasush''s call, luring far more raishans to this world than had been planned. Once that happened, it was inevitable that Vanion would become involved. And with my recent exploits, I hoped to become part of the expedition." He tested the Axe of Fortenex''s weight. It was just as he remembered it; it was he who had changed. A smile came to his face as he remembered the armies he had slaughtered with this weapon. "Now, it is time I paid you back with a small measure of the suffering you inflicted on me."


    He turned.


    Arraxia was gone. She had slipped away while he was talking. Melchious didn''t think her smart enough to know when she was beaten, but he supposed even she could see that much. "Excellent strategy. I will deal with you later."


    He looked at the weapon in his hands. Such beautiful craftsmanship, it would reap many lives. Long had he labored in another life to earn the right to wield this weapon. Now with the devastation wrought by his machinations, he had proven himself a second time.


    The Axe of Fortenex thirsted for blood. The more death and misery surrounded it, the stronger it became. He needs now only a final bloody orgy to unlock its real power. Then he would deal with Father for his treachery.


    Father? Why should he think of him so? Some remnant of William''s old mannerisms, no doubt.


    Melchious passed from the temple and soon emerged on that same hill. He looked at the village far below. He would begin his sacrifices with them and slaughter them all, down to the last man, woman, and child.


    Yet something held him back.


    He wasn''t quite sure what it was. Some remnant of the paladin''s mind? Some revenant of that antiquated morality that possessed mortals. Or more likely, the part of Elranor within him. Then again, the Axe of Fortenex was tied to Fortenex. It would not please the demon lord for Melchious to kill all his minions.


    Oh well. He could improvise.


    "Lord Melchious, have events proceeded as planned?" asked Karasush behind him.


    Ah, yes, the pawn. He could be of further use. Melchious drew out the sword by his side. Many red runes were along the blade''s center, runes of observation. Rusara could see everything that was happening. Perhaps there was a means by which he could use this. He sheathed the blade.


    "Not entirely," said Melchious. "The cursed traitor managed to slip away. Yet not before breaking the seal and delivering the Axe of Fortenex into my hands. Now I have everything I need to conquer this place."


    "With respect, Melchious, Raynald, and Rusara have proven quite formidable," said Karasush.


    "Yes. Many have been destroyed," mused Melchious. "However, in doing so, they have divided their forces. And many more raishans have dispersed throughout the land. Their numbers have been bolstered with the souls of innumerable mortals they captured.


    "Even as we speak, a new generation of my pets arises in dozens of caves. They have but defeated my vanguard," He raised the Axe of Fortenex and channeled his power. "Now, my minions! Come to me!"


    At his command, a bolt of red light shot into the air. As Melchious poured forth his will into the land, he felt them. Innumerable thousands were coming to him as they spoke, and Rusara sensed it.


    The raishans were coming in the tens of thousands toward Melchious. Their bloodlust and hunger were endearing. It was only a shame that he''d done so much damage to them while unaware of his true nature.


    Now the question was: Would they act as Melchious had predicted?


    He sent out raishans to scout Khasmir. Within hours he saw that the main army had rallied at Kynn, drawing back their primary forces. No doubt, they hoped to resist the siege. He noticed messengers being sent to the Calishans. Had an alliance been arranged? So much, the better.


    "Events proceed as hoped," said Melchious to Karasush as time passed. "The loss of Raynald and Rusara will destroy the greater part of Vanion''s power. His enemies at court will seize upon this defeat. Combined with his truce with Baltoth, to see to it that he loses Artarq. No doubt, Andoa will replace him with someone less competent.


    "A generation from now the population of Khasmir will have been replenished. Replenished with servants of Fortenex and myself. The defenses will have fallen into ruin, and Baltoth will seek to press his claim. "It is then we will strike."


    "As you say, Lord Melchious," said Karasush.


    What was Fortenex doing during all of this? It surprised Melchious how inactive he had been. He''d been expecting the demon lord to say or do something. Yet he seemed perfectly content for Melchious to regain the axe. That seemed odd to Melchious, given how they had parted ways before. A smile came to his face as he looked at his weapon.


    Truly magnificent.


    "Now, my hosts are gathering as we speak," he said. "I will lead them myself."


    Yes, he hesitated again. Something held him back. What was happening? Why was he feeling so strange? This reluctance that washed over him made each step taken harder than the last. No matter. Whatever remained of William Gabriel was but a shattered remnant.


    With a spell, Melchious summoned to him his wings that sprouted from his back. They were like those of a dove, as white as snow. He rose into the air and flew over the highlands. Below him, he could see his armies mustering. Chattering and screeching filled the valleys as raishans poured from their caves. All were assembling to serve Melchious.


    By the time the sun began to set, raishans were all here. It was time for war.


    Sending his will coursing through the raishans, Melchious led them forward toward Kynn. By his will, he urged them forward. His armies covered the hills, and he could sense the fear of his enemies. Several villages that were in the way of his forces were destroyed. Those who would not flee were butchered like the sheep they were.


    He could see that the Calishans were marching to support Kynn. He would get there first, however. He doubted that the assault would be a success. His raishans would cause much carnage and kill many. Yet they would be annihilated.


    It was fortunate that he did not need to gain victory to win.


    Soon he could see Kynn with his own eyes. He landed on a ledge with the sun behind him and motioned with the axe. His minions rushed forward with slavering fury. Arrows fell upon the raishans, killing many, but there were always more. They scaled up the hill, clambering over the corpses of their fallen wherever they walked.


    Great bursts of flame appeared among the raishans. It killed them by the hundreds as they began to scale the walls like spiders. Spearmen stabbed down at them, driving them off. Again and again, they rushed against the barrier, and each time failed. Blood soaked the ground. Yet it was hardly sufficient for Melchious'' preference. He saw Raynald fighting on the walls, carving down everything which scaled the wall.


    Yet soon, the unending tide began to creep onto the walls. A melee was ensuing, and the real fun began. A desperate stalemate happened as raishan and mortal tore each other to pieces. Melchious watched in gladness. Brothers, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, and sisters were all torn to bits. Many widows and orphans would lament this day.


    He looked forward to hearing their wails.


    Yet thinking that seemed unnatural. William had hated to see others suffer. Yet why should he care about that?


    Because he wasn''t acting. Melchious had the Axe of Fortenex. Why had he not rushed to battle? Something was wrong. He had always been eager to seek carnage. His personal enjoyment of blood and death was a legend.


    So why was he just standing here, watching the fun?


    Another inferno made him aware of just how much damage Rusara was doing to his raishans. He did not lament their deaths. These creatures existed to die for him and had they survived, he would still have disposed of them. Yet killing Rusara would surely be a glorious accomplishment. It would also be an excellent beginning to his revenge against Vanion.


    Flying high into the air, he looked over the battle. The combat was becoming ever more bloody. His raishans were endless. By his will, he had been breeding an army of raishans for months, summoning the creatures all over. Now all the caves and pits of Khasmir were empty, and it showed.


    And there was Rusara, snapping her fingers again and again. Each time more of his minions were consumed. Raising his axe, he finally felt the thirst for blood coming to him. She would be a fitting sacrifice to Fortenex.


    Swooping downward, he brought his axe toward the back of her head.


    Yet she ducked, and the blade passed over her. Again she snapped her fingers, and Melchious was hit head-on with a burst of fire. The heat was terrible, and he spun backward, landing and drawing in his wings to become human once more.


    Rusara took a ready stance as she saw him. Or who she had thought him to be. Would she stare in shock at who had tried to strike her? Question why the boy who had been like a son to her was seeking her life? Cry out in horror as she saw what had happened.


    She snapped her fingers again, and Melchious narrowed, avoided being burned alive. This was something less of a reaction than he had anticipated. Soon he had no time to think as bolt after bolt of fire was thrown at him. It wasn''t difficult, but it was irritating.


    Here he had turned one of the things most precious to her against her! Yet this harlot didn''t even have a reaction!


    Angered, he surged forward and brought his axe down on her. Yet she dodged and weaved before drawing out a long knife and slashing at his throat. Stepping back, Melchious took a stance as they faced each other down.


    "I''m surprised at you," he said. "You are quick to kill a boy you have known since he was a child."


    "I have known many children," said Rusara. "Many of them are old now. I will not give you the satisfaction of trying to reach what does not exist."


    "Yes, I forgot how cold-blooded you were." mused Melchious. "William''s memories are tinged with a sort of nostalgia. One that makes it difficult to remember."


    "Die," said Rusara.


    She snapped her fingers again, and Melchious raised the axe. The inferno burned around him, hotter than any Rusara had summoned before. It would have killed anyone else. But Melchious merely channeled the power of Fortenex, and it faded.


    Surging forward, Melchious brought around his axe. Rusara stepped back too late, and everything slowed down. He was going to kill her. Kill Rusara, the woman who had been like a mother to him, no to William.


    Before he knew what had happened, he had turned the axe. The flat struck Rusara along the side of the head. She fell backward, unconscious. This was ridiculous! He would finish her where she lay!


    Raising the axe, he brought it down-


    Something hit him. Melchious was thrown from the wall. Falling downward, he resummoned his wings and gained lift. He righted himself as he was about to hit the ground and flew high. Then he saw her. Arraxia was flying in the air, clutching a bolt of violet fire. She hurled it, but he raised a hand, dissipating it before it could reach him.


    Coming to a halt, Melchious glanced at the battle. Without Rusara, the raishans were gaining a great deal of territory. Very soon, they would overwhelm the defenses of Kynn if the Calishans arrived later. He was interested in something other than who won this combat. Either one would suit his purposes. Instead, he regarded Arraxia as she flew up to face him.


    "Well, that is irritating." mused Arraxia. "It seems I shall have to play the role of the insufferably whiney damsel, pleading with her loved one to-"


    Melchious hurled the axe, and it spun toward Arraxia. She dove low to avoid being beheaded. The axe spun away before returning to Melchious'' hand. She surged upward toward him and veered away at the last minute.


    "My dear William," said Arraxia, "I do hope you can realize when you are being duped, are you not?"


    "You waste your time, fool," said Melchious. "William never existed."


    "I beg to differ," said Arraxia. "I know you Melchious. I know that you could never bear to have the sort of insufferable compassion William does. You''ve merely suppressed his will and are keeping it down by convincing him that he has none."


    "Silence!" How dare she? Melchious unleashed a flurry of strikes at her. Yet something was slowing his blows, and she could avoid them narrowly.


    "Oh, you are," mused Arraxia. "Good, that was just me guessing." She halted before him in mid-air. "You see, I was thinking over all this, and one of the immutable laws of the universe occurred to me. You cannot destroy a soul.


    "You can change a soul.


    "You can dominate a soul. You can break off pieces of a soul to create a new one, but destroying one is impossible.


    "And absorbing a soul which has its uttermost source in you is likewise impossible. This is precisely why we demons take mortal consorts. Coupling with a mortal allows us to create offspring without dividing ourselves."


    "Don''t tell me what I already know!" roared Melchious. "I was the one who taught you all this!"


    "Of course you were. And I am merely instructing dear William in the details," said Arraxia. "What he does with the information is entirely his business."


    "William was but a mask!" snarled Melchious. He was, wasn''t he?


    "Really? A moment ago, I thought you said he didn''t exist?" said Arraxia. "It was all very clever, Melchious. But I think I''ve already made my point."


    Her point? What point could she be trying to make! He was Melchious! He slaughtered thousands without remorse! Worlds had been laid to waste by his hands! Entire civilizations purged for the sake of his amusement! And yet he was restrained; something kept holding him back. Was it possible that some part of the boy survived?


    Yet, if that were the case, he would have known about it. Unless, unless his control was not total. His will had not fully manifested itself. In which case, the boy-


    No, he, he could fight it. He could stop this. He felt his spirit at war with another, one foreign to him, and he saw the part which his enemy had had in him. He would not allow this! He would not be held back-


    -by this miserable child!


    -by this monster!


    Where once their thoughts had been combined now, they were at war. William tore himself away from the thing within him, fighting against the control. It all happened in a moment.


    It was a moment Arraxia did not waste. She struck him with her tail, sending him falling to earth. Melchious narrowly snatched control to catch himself and ward off her next assault. Yet William pressed against him, tearing at his mind.


    He would not allow this! He would not let this happen!


    The power of Elranor welled up within William, and Melchious screamed. There was a light around them, brighter and brighter, and then the spirit of Melchious fled out of him. The wings which had come from his back withered and fell away. William collapsed against the earth. The Axe of Fortenex clattered to the ground next to him.


    Around him, he saw the carnage. The raishans had gotten over the walls now. There was fighting in the courtyards. Little by little, the defense was being driven in. It was only a matter of time now. He had to act.


    William tried to rise, but before he could, Arraxia descended. One clawed foot slammed him downwards as her tail lashed around the Axe of Fortenex. Raising it, she brought it down toward him. Yet when the blade hit his helmet, it glanced off. It didn''t even feel like a weapon; it was like a feather had been slapped against his face.


    "What?" said Arraxia. "This is absurd! I have more than proven myself! Why shouldn''t I be able to execute him?!" Her tail flicked. "No matter, I''ll find some more direct way to do it." And she raised her tail as if to plunge the end into his throat.


    Then there was a roar, and Massacre leaped over the walls. The beast descended upon Arraxia, bowling her over. Chimera and demoness rolled in the dirt, claws and teeth tearing at each other. Massacre breathed her fire down onto the demoness. Yet the fire was quenched as her tail wrapped around the dragon head and stabbed the blade into it. Arraxia kicked her off, drawing out her tail and holding it tenderly. For a moment, she and Massacre faced one another. Then she flew into the air and began to fly away, the Axe of Fortenex still clutched in one hand.


    William had had enough. Staggering to his feet, he rushed after her and grabbed her by the tail. Hauling backward, he spun her body around and sent her flying towards the wall. Arraxia crashed against it, and William drew his sword to rush toward her.


    He''d kill her and finish this.


    He didn''t feel any real hatred for her. He didn''t feel anything else either; there was a sort of void where he should feel something regarding her. He tried not to think of it as he bashed her down with his shield. Then that damn tail smashed him aside. He could feel the blade scraping against his armor, and as he tried to rise, it hit him again.


    He slashed at it, and she screamed as she drew it back. The Axe of Fortenex fell from her hands as she grabbed her cut appendage. Leaping into the air she smashed him down and flew away as fast as she could. And William realized why.


    The raishans were being finished off around him. But the sound of battle could still be heard over the walls. He scaled up the stairs and looked down from the battlements. Assembled in the fields before them were the hosts of Calisha.

 Chapter Twenty-seven: Tragedy and Resolution

    When he first arrived, the Calishans numbered at least as many as Raynald had brought from Artarq. All of them were fresh and bore spear and shield with great fortitude. So much the better. They were fighting raishans, more raishans than William had ever seen before. They were crawling all over the walls like giant insects. He had seen them, but he''d been under Melchious'' sway, so it was all a blur now. Still, more were coming out of the hills to join in, but the Calishan battleline was holding. Their long spears slew many as arrows were fired over the lines with expert finesse. William wondered if there were any Calishan immortals among them. It did not seem so.


    Arrows filled the sky, blotting out the sun as they showered the monsters. There must have been other holy men at work as well because the bodies of the raishans were fading away. It left behind only the blood. It was a breathtaking spectacle, but William knew he didn''t have time to watch it. It came back to him where he was and what he was doing.


    Where was Felix? And Tanith and Kusher? And Rusara, was she hurt? He didn''t see any of them around here, just unfamiliar satyrs and men.


    Making his way quickly down the steps, he picked up the Axe of Fortenex and rushed to where he''d seen Rusara before. He found Raynald standing by her. The withered-armed man had his sword planted in the ground before him. He was surrounded by a breathtaking number of raishan corpses and breathing heavily. He took from this that the holy man was not in range of Kynn.


    That meant that there would still be raishans regenerating in nests across Khasmir. William couldn''t worry about this right now.


    "Raynald!" he called. "Raynald is Rusara, alright?"


    "She''s had far worse than this, William," said Raynald. "I''m just glad you managed to throw the bastard out. We were worried that what he was saying was true."


    "You knew?" asked William. "How?"


    "Those runes Rusara put on your sword are designed to keep track of you," said Raynald. "The moment Rusara detected you were gone, she kept watching. That was why we knew Melchious was making his move, and we were able to fall back to Kynn."


    Something hovered at the edge of William''s memory. What was it?


    "What about the Calishans?" asked William. "I didn''t know they had agreed to anything."


    "I sent the Calishan to tell them that if Baltoth didn''t act now, the entire region would be overrun," said Raynald. "Massacre went with him for speed. We probably could have stopped this army alone, but I''d rather they and the Calishans tear each other to pieces."


    "Are we going to sally forth?" asked William.


    "No," said Raynald, sounding perplexed. "Why would we?"


    "The Calishans are fighting the raishans," said William. "They saved us."


    "Yes," said Raynald. "And if they aren''t weakened fighting the raishans, they may decide to finish us off. Still, I suppose we can''t let them be destroyed entirely. Watch Rusara; I''m going to check on their progress. If the Calishans start getting wiped out, we''ll involve ourselves."


    William didn''t like this one bit. If an alliance had been made with the Calishans, it didn''t seem right that they should at least try to help them. Still, it wasn''t his decision to make. Then he looked at the men. Those that weren''t screaming in agony from wounds were slumped against walls. Blood was everywhere, and healers were hurrying to and fro.


    Raynald was bluffing, William realized. They were in no shape to help anyone, and Raynald didn''t want to admit weakness. So he was making up a paranoid story. William kneeled down by Rusara and saw that she had a bloody bruise on her brow where he had hit her. Putting his hand to her head, he healed it as best he could.


    Then he began to walk among the wounded and heal them as well. For all the little good this would do. This took up his time for perhaps an hour as the battle raged. Eventually, he saw Tanith limping toward him. The blonde girl''s leg had a bloody cut, and she supported herself on her shield. Her sword was broken at the hilt, held in one red-stained hand.


    "William, is that you?" asked Tanith in a broken voice. She looked like she had been crying.


    He quickly ran to her and healed her wounds. "Tanith, are you alright?" S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Kusher is dead," said Tanith. "A raishan cut off his arm from behind, and another tore out his throat. I tried to get to him, but by the time I did... there wasn''t enough to bury. I couldn''t even recognize him! There were too many corpses!" Choked laughter came to her, mixed with sobs.


    Kusher dead. It hit like a thunderbolt. The satyr had not exactly been a close friend, but William had known him. He''d spoken with him many times. Kusher had saved his life several times. And William had brought these the monsters that killed him. No, no, he hadn''t! That had been Melchious'' fault, not his! He refused to accept responsibility for the actions of a demon! He wouldn''t!


    Tanith started to cry again, and he quickly hugged her. The sword fell from her hand, and she grasped him back, shaking visibly. Then William broke the embrace and gripped her by the shoulders.


    "Tanith," said William, "it wasn''t your fault. And we need to move now. Can you bring me to some more wounded? I might be able to save some people."


    Tanith nodded. "Y-yes, I''ll show you the way."


    It was a miserable two hours that passed. The Calishans, as it turned out, did not need help. William set about healing the injured. When the ranks of Calishans grew tired, they withdrew and were replaced by fresh troops. They fought with discipline and skill, which William had never seen in a Harlenorian army.


    During this time, William found himself healing Relg atop the eastern battlements. The satyr leader had lost several fingers in the battle. Though the stumps had been treated, the fingers would not return.


    He looked very bitter as William tried to restore them.


    "It''s no good, you know," said Relg. "Injuries stay when they mean something beyond physical harm. And my brother is dead."


    "He died well," said William. "In battle." It didn''t make it any better.


    "What does it matter how he died?" asked Relg in disgust. "He was torn to shreds, and now I''ll never see him again. He was always pressing for war, seeking to prove himself. Well, he has, and now I''ve lost my right hand.


    "Replacing him will be impossible. How am I to motivate the younger warriors now?"


    William was not sure whether Relg was grieving for a brother or furious at the loss of a valuable war leader. He decided it was both. In the end, he could only restore one of the Chieftain''s fingers.


    As William continued his rounds, he had to conclude that Raynald''s decision had been for the best. Nearly a fourth of the army which had first been assembled outside Kynn all that time ago was dead. More when one counted the reinforcements which had arrived in the following weeks. And of the survivors, there were many wounded.


    They had been in no position to sally forth at all.


    What made it worse was that the battle was still ongoing. From the high places of Kynn, one could see the Calishan army suffering grievous losses. They were fighting valiantly against impossible odds. In some ways, they were even more heroic. Some were facing these monstrosities with knives, their spears having broken.


    William decided after he finished his rounds and approached Raynald. "Raynald, with your permission, I''d like to go to the Calishans and offer my healing services."


    "Why?" asked Raynald. "They have healers of their own."


    "As a sign of goodwill," said William.


    "I have no goodwill for Calishans," said Raynald. "And you shouldn''t either. The world would be better if they were all destroyed. Besides, they might take you hostage."


    "Then you''ll be able to spy on their encampment," said William. And then he stopped as he remembered something. "Melchious knew."


    "What?" said Raynald.


    "Melchious saw the runes on my sword," said William. "He knew he was being spied on. He counted on it. He wanted us all to be here. Why?"


    "Who knows?" asked Raynald. "Melchious likes mass bloodshed. It''s the only thing he and I have in common. No doubt he wanted a final bloody battle to conclude things on."


    William looked out over the field of blood. And then he realized that the blood was disappearing. It faded away from the ground like water falling into the sand. Why?


    "Raynald," said William, "what do you know about the Axe of Fortenex?"


    "William, I don''t care about barbarian gods," said Raynald. "Let alone barbarian demons. Why does it matter?"


    "I''m thinking," said William, unslinging the axe. The Axe of Fortenex was glowing red. Around it, red beams of light were surging into it, only enhancing its glow. Looking at it made William want to cleave someone''s skull in. Perhaps Raynald''s, he''d been acting far too confident for someone who had almost lost. How William would like to see the blood-


    He shook his head and averted his eyes. The murderous thoughts fell away. "Rusara taught me that it was fueled by blood, growing more powerful the more death surrounded it."


    "Well, that explains it," said Raynald. "Melchious wanted to gain ultimate power by killing a great many people. Melchious is banished, his army is dead, and now we can use the axe instead.


    "At this moment, Rusara reappeared. She was clutching her head, somewhat spoiling the entrance. "That would not be wise."


    "Rusara, glad to see you''re up," said Raynald, sounding a little annoyed and relieved.


    "Are you alright?" asked William. "Did I hurt you?"


    "Melchious failed to do any lasting harm, thanks to you," said Rusara. "William, I feel I need to apologize."


    "Apologize?" asked William. "For what?"


    "I was genuinely trying to kill you," explained Rusara. "It never even occurred to me that you might have been able to break free of Melchious'' control as you did. Really it would have been a mercy to die. If he''d controlled you for any length of time, he would have gradually overwritten your soul. He would have changed you until your soul was little more than a vessel for his dark will.


    "I''d have done the same thing again, to be honest. There is no possible way you could have had the willpower to throw out Melchious on your own. He had help. Or perhaps he was distracted.


    "This bears further thought."


    "Rusara, I''m not sure you understand how an apology works," said Raynald in amusement.


    "It''s alright Raynald, I forgive her," said William, not wanting to deal with the prospect of Rusara as an enemy. "What are we going to do with the axe?"


    "Well, we can hardly destroy it," said Rusara. "It is infused with the will of Fortenex himself and so is quite unbreakable. Worse still, the cursed thing has absorbed the life force of every creature which was killed in this war. I expect we''d all be dead if you hadn''t restrained Melchious from acting on his bloodthirst."


    "I would have killed him," said Raynald.


    "Of course, you would have Raynald. After he had killed the entire army and dealt you a mortal blow," said Rusara. "So we''d all be dead. Give me that damned axe, William. I''ll see about containing its murderous aura." And she snatched it away and began wrapping the axe in white cloth. The cloth must have been enchanted, somehow. Because as it covered the axe, the aura of murder surrounding it faded. "When I next see Vanion, we''ll make plans to deal with this abomination."


    "Lord Raynald, a snowstorm approaches!" called a man.


    They looked up, and sure enough, a great dust cloud came." As men scurried to cover, Raynald sighed. "Really? Just what we needed. More snow."


    Yet even as the snowstorm approached, it condensed smaller and smaller. Finally, it flowed over the walls and landed upon the wall, forming the shape of a familiar masked satyr.


    "Karasush," said William, being sure to hide his contempt.

 Chapter Twenty-eight: No One is Satisfied

    Karasush bowed politely. ''''Greetings noble lords I-"


    He then ducked as Raynald surged forward and brought round his sword to place it at the satyr''s throat. Relg raised a knife, and everyone drew their weapons. It looked like he would be cut to pieces, but he raised his hands in a panic.


    "I am here under parley and may not be assailed!" cried Karasush.


    "Really?" asked Raynald. "I see no white flag. I assumed you were here to attack us." He sheathed his blade. "Karasush, I know exactly what you have been doing all this time. I see very little reason not to cut your throat and throw your body to the wolves."


    "I understand you have great reason to be angry with me-" said Karasush.


    "Understatement of the century," noted William.


    "I assure you, I only cooperated with Melchious out of fear for my people," said Karasush. "Had I disobeyed him, he would have surely destroyed us."


    "Hmm, interesting," said Raynald. "I''m not sure we care. Relg, Tanith, do we care?"


    "No. No, we do not," said Relg, grasping a spear from a soldier.


    Tanith raised her sword and smiled murderously.


    "As I thought," said Raynald. "Leave Karasush. We''re coming for your people next."


    "If you will but listen to me-" began Karasush.


    "To hell with your-" began Raynald.


    Then Rusara put a hand on Raynald''s shoulder and moved forward. "I apologize for that. We have lost a great many friends, and tempers are running high. Raynald, let us give him a chance to explain himself."


    Raynald paused. "...As you wish."


    "Please understand, my people were on the verge of being wiped out," said Karasush. "I gave him a place in Fortenex''s domain in exchange for his assistance. However, I got more than I bargained for.


    "I am perfectly willing to make amends for the damages caused by our mistakes."


    "Make amends?'' said Relg. "Thousands are dead because of you! My brother is dead because of you! And now you come to us when the battle is already won and claim you desire to make amends?!"


    "The battle is not yet won," said Karasush. "Many of the tormented spirits from which the raishans are formed were not purified. They have returned to many nests to breed new armies. It will take many months for you to find them all, and you will face several more battles in that time.


    "Is that what you want?"


    "What can you do to help?" asked Raynald.


    "I made a point to keep track of where all the raishan nests were created," said Karasush. "Melchious'' minions were instructed not to harm my people. If you spare my people, I can lead you to all of them. This war could be over in a month instead of a year, and many innocent lives were saved.


    "I beg of you to consider it."


    "Very well. We will consider it," said Relg. "Guards, escort Karasush to a cell while we discuss the matter. There are to be no accidents."


    "As you wish," said one of the guards.


    "No," said Raynald in the voice you never want to disobey. "Karasush, we will discuss this matter ourselves. For now, we will tolerate your presence."


    "Of course," Karasush turned and walked some distance away.


    They cleared that section of the wall of everyone save for a select few officers. Tanith, William, Relg, Rusara, and Raynald were all there. William bitterly wished Felix were here, but he''d seen neither heads or tails of him. He hoped he was alright.


    "That was discourteous," said Raynald. "And a violation of parley."


    "You went at him with a sword," noted Relg.


    "That was before he was officially under parley," noted Raynald.


    "Look around you, Raynald!" said Relg. "This entire war is a violation! We have a right to his head! The least we should do is ensure he isn''t made comfortable while awaiting our judgment!"


    "Calm yourself Relg," said Rusara. "These decisions must be made with a cool head. Karasush offers us valuable information in exchange for mercy. I think we should grant it."


    "I think we should ask for more," said Raynald. "He is in no position to bargain with us."


    "Actually, he is," said Rusara. "If we wipe out his people, his natural ally is the Calishans. If he goes to them, we could have another war. And we aren''t in a position to fight one.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Moreover, his people assisted Laughing Wraith in their plans. And Korasus sounds very similar to Karasush as names go."


    "Are you suggesting they are the same person?" asked Raynald. "Then, he is already working with the Calishans."


    "No," said Rusara, "he may very well have been threatened by Melchious even then. Either he is a scheming monster or a man whose plans have spiraled out of control."


    "I find monster more likely," said Relg.


    "Why don''t we just agree to his terms, wipe out the raishans, and then kill his entire clan anyway?" asked Tanith.


    There were murmurs of agreement.


    "Tanith, I''m ashamed that one of my students would suggest such a travesty!" snapped Raynald. "We are knights of Harlenor, not cutthroats! Our word is our bond! To promise mercy and then betray that promise is simple murder, and I won''t hear any more of it!"


    Tanith flinched and bowed her head. "Forgive me, Lord Raynald."


    "I demand a weregild," said Relg suddenly.


    "Hmm?" said Raynald.


    "A weregild. Payment for every member of my clan and my ally''s clans who died," said Relg. "They are to all be considered murderers. I will not accept anything less."


    "That seems reasonable to me," mused Rusara. "For our part, we could demand he honor his side of his bargain with William and pay tribute to Antion."


    "Why would he agree to that?" asked Raynald. "The cost would be massive."


    "It would benefit him as well as us," noted Rusara. "We''d have an obligation to defend him if someone invaded him, and we''d get tribute."


    "Would he even be able to afford any of this?" asked William.


    "I expect he can," said Relg. "With all the people fleeing their homes, he has had ample opportunity to loot their houses. That is what I would do."


    "This may work," said Rusara. "If all goes as planned, we will unify all of Khasmir under Antion''s standard. We may even establish peace."


    "Peace of a graveyard, perhaps," muttered Relg.


    "Tanith," said Rusara, "go get Karasush. William, leave us."


    "But-" began William.


    "Now," said Rusara.


    "Yes," said William before departing. They probably were afraid Melchious might eavesdrop.


    He wandered the battlefield as corpses were cleared away and lined up in many lines. Cloths had been put over them. Some of the bodies had been so torn up that there was no recognizing of them. From the looks of things, the satyrs gathered sticks to burn the bodies. Funeral rites were being performed with alcohol and dancing.


    Where was Felix? He hadn''t been killed, had he? William prayed he hadn''t.


    Then there was a flash, and Kiyora appeared. "Okay, I''m back."


    "Kiyora?" said William. He wanted to ask, ''Where have you been?'' But he already knew the answer. "I''m glad to see you."


    "Yeah, I''m glad to see you too," said Kiyora. "I could use a friendly face. So what is going on here?"


    "Raynald and Rusara are negotiating the end to this conflict," said William. "I assume by your presence that the raishans are more or less beaten."


    "How should I know?" asked Kiyora. "I haven''t been able to get here for weeks."


    "Right, well, I trust all is well in your world?" said William.


    "Yeah, I wish," said Kiyora. "I saved the city, and my family is repaying me by trying to marry me off to some guy I''ve never met."


    Kiyora was getting married? That was good news, he supposed, provided it was a good match. Though she didn''t seem happy, so perhaps it wasn''t. "That is unfortunate. Is it a favorable match?"


    "What did I just say?" asked Kiyora. "I''ve never met the guy!" S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sometimes William just didn''t understand her. "Well, yes, but that isn''t relevant to the question."


    "Right, whatever. No, it''s not favorable," said Kiyora. "So, I put myself into a coma, and I''m negotiating with Alchara to cancel the thing."


    "You mean to enforce your will on a god?" asked William.


    "Well, I am one myself," said Kiyora.


    "Yes, but Alchara is a greater god," said William. "I doubt you''ll have much luck." He wasn''t feeling up to this bickering. He was just going through the motions.


    "Says you," scoffed Kiyora. "Your dad has arranged a meeting with her and everything. It''s supposed to take place a week from now."


    "Father must have some kind of plan then," mused William.


    Kiyora bit her lip and gave him a look. "Wait, so you doubt me, the Dreaming Goddess, but you think your mortal father is capable of it?"


    "Well, yes," said William. "Father is much smarter than you."


    "Harsh," said Kiyora. "So, what''s with the axe?"


    William was reminded of the unholy weapon slung over his back. He brought it back around and tested the weight. "Oh, this? This is an unholy artifact of unfathomable power. Melchious intended to use for his ends but which I now possess. I threw him from my mind; it is a long story. Can we go over it later?"


    "Sure," said Kiyora. "So, what''s going to happen now?"


    "Now?" asked William. "Well, I imagine there will be a long, boring series of negotiations. Nobody will get what they want. Though everyone will get something." He paused. "Father will probably end up negotiating the details from Artarq. Karasush will go there sooner or later. Then I expect we''ll all cooperate in a lengthy campaign against the raishans."


    "Nothing will really be solved, thousands will be dead, and Melchious will laugh."


    "Wow, you''ve got a cheery outlook," said Kiyora.


    "You can''t win against demons," said William with a shrug. "They''d throw away everything they own as long as they cause a proportionate amount of misery to go with it."


    "Is this from personal experience?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes and no," admitted William. "Laughing Wraith was formed from a portion of Melchious''s soul. Or something along those lines."


    "What?" asked Kiyora. "But then why would Melchious summon himself?"


    "The portion that became Laughing Wraith was summoned into your world. Then summoned from there," said William. "It probably had a degree of, to be honest. I certainly do."


    "You?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes, it turns out my soul was also formed from a fragment of Melchious'' spirit," said William.


    "So you''re a demon?" asked Kiyora.


    "No, I''m a human," said William. "My race is merely the body I inhabit. It just means that Melchious could possess me without any kind of unholy ceremony. But that isn''t an issue anymore; I drove him out."


    "Okay, so does that make you and Laughing Wraith brothers?" asked Kiyora.


    "No," said William. "Family is a matter of the physical realm. Who you are related to by blood. Souls don''t have those same connections. Besides, all souls ultimately have the same uttermost source. The Soul Event Horizon."


    "Which is?" asked Kiyora.


    "Something very complicated. It is a sort of gate at the center of the cosmos," said William. "The first souls came from it. And any soul that enters it is drawn into it and cannot escape. Or perhaps doesn''t want to escape."


    "Like a black hole?" guessed Kiyora.


    "What in Elranor''s name is a black hole?" asked William.


    "It''s a region of space with so much gravity that no matter or radiation can escape it," said Kiyora.


    "I see," said William. "That explains everything. What is matter? What is gravity? And what is radiation?"


    "You know what, I think maybe we should drop the subject," said Kiyora. "Are you alright?"


    "Well, one of my friends is dead," said William.


    Kiyora''s eyes widened. "Felix?"


    "No, another one," said William. "You never met him. I don''t think it has really set in yet."


    "I''m sorry," said Kiyora. "So, what will you do now?"


    William thought about it for a moment. "I just want to go home, to be honest."


    "You and me both," said Kiyora.


    It would be a long journey home.

 Chapter Twenty-nine: A Bargain Struck

    Estimates of the death toll were challenging to calculate in Khasmir. So many isolated villages were attacked. Many who survived had left it with scars and injuries, and most had lost at least one friend. In the Duke''s own, at least five thousand of the Artarqian militias had been killed. Though Raynald guessed it was higher at seven thousand. Up to three thousand Harlenorians were slain, but the number was distorted. Many new waves of adventurers had come in; some had been less disciplined than House Gabriel. The satyrs had lost many more.


    King Relg''s personal forces had been nearly cut in half. And that did not account for the many villages throughout Khasmir. Some had been wiped out, and others abandoned when the situations deteriorated.


    This was not even accounting for the casualties suffered by Calishans. That which had been almost as bad. Most of the Calishan army were armed, much like the Artarqians, and the battle had been gruesome for them. With Khasmirian guides, Princes Ashinin had won a string of victories. Yet Melchious took a toll on each one. Raynald, at least ten thousand of their number slain over a few months.


    About the only person to emerge unscathed were the Dust Elves. They had been assigned to guard supply routes. So much relied on them, after all.


    And Kusher was dead.


    William just wanted to get away from this place. William''s wish was granted more quickly than he would have expected. Raynald gave him a message to deliver and sent him back to Arsheen with Kiyora. It had been so sudden, as though no one wanted him around anymore.


    He and Kiyora emerged into the gardens of Arsheen. Father was sitting at a table reading many letters while sipping some tea with one hand. He did not look up. "William, you return."


    "Yes," said William. "Rusara ordered me to report to you. She says the campaign is going well and expects a full victory within a few months. They are now cooperating with the Calishans to hunt down the remaining raishans."


    "And why are you here?" asked Vanion.


    How to say that William felt Raynald and Rusara did not want him around? "I requested to be the one to bear the message. Raynald granted my request."


    "You seem somewhat unsteady," noted Father, setting down his parchment.


    "There was no glory in this war," said William. "A lot of people died fighting what amounted to animals." He offered the report from Raynald.


    "Still, without their sacrifices, things would have gone badly," mused Father, taking it. "A death in battle is only a waste when it has no meaning. In this circumstance, it did." He paused and looked up. "I was just about to meet with Queen Alchara within the hour.


    "Perhaps you will sit in on it?"


    "If you wish it of me.'' said William as they took their seats across from him. "How is Mother doing?"


    "Azgora is doing well," said Father. "Irritable. I am told she will likely give birth soon. The matter is of no present relevance, however."


    "That''s not something a husband should say," said Kiyora.


    "Azgora would kill me herself if I fawned over her," said Vanion. "So, I shall not."


    "Right, um, Duke Vanion?" said Kiyora.


    "Yes?" asked Vanion.


    "How exactly will you convince Alchara not to marry me off?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''m not sure," admitted Vanion. "The point of this matter is to establish a dialogue. Once that is done, much may be accomplished."


    At that moment, a beam of light shot down from above. It widened and glowed brighter and brighter before suddenly fading away. There stood Alchara, as radiant as the sun. She looked mildly annoyed. "You have a great deal of nerve requesting a meeting with a goddess, Duke Vanion."


    "Alchara, you appear as radiant as ever," said Vanion. "However, you appear to have misunderstood. I am here on Kiyora''s behalf rather than my own."


    "Save your flattery," said Alchara. "You have always held the gods in contempt behind your respectful facade."


    Vanion''s eyes narrowed. "Very well, I shall dispense with idle pleasantries. What will it take for you to break off this arranged marriage?"


    "First, I should know your interest in the matter," said Alchara. "What business is it of yours what matches I make of my creatures in my world?"


    "Queen Kiyora has been of great service to my house," said Vanion. "It has always been my view that one should repay good deeds in kind. She requested I intercede on her behalf. So here I am."


    Alchara looked at Vanion long and hard. Even though she wasn''t looking at him, William felt suddenly inferior. What were they to this creature? They were little compared to the innate beauty of elves and less to Alchara. It was presumptuous for his father even to consider this. Of course, Father held her gaze steady and unblinking. He didn''t look at all concerned. After a moment, he sipped his tea.


    "I see your thoughts Vanion, and I know your designs," said Alchara. "However, there is nothing you have that I''d want." Her gaze fell on William, and he shifted nervously. Then she turned her eyes away.


    "Truly?" asked Vanion, "I am a very powerful man in the court of Antion. It is well within my power to see the favorable treatment of the elves. I have taken steps in that direction already."


    "That much is true, I suppose." mused Alchara. "Though it hardly outweighs the atrocities of your ancestors. Yet it is of small value compared to what I may gain by what I am doing now."


    "Name your price," said Vanion.


    Alchara paused, considering it for a long time. "I will break off the marriage in exchange for the submission of the Nakmar."


    "That is not within my power," said Vanion.


    "Which is why I was not asking it of you, human," said Alchara. "Kiyora, what you are asking of me may set back my plans by many years and bring harm to elves on many worlds. If you were to help me claim new lands of the high elves, it might be a different matter."


    "What do you mean?" said Kiyora.


    "The high elves lived in Seathorius for tens of thousands of years. Then the Elranor drove them to the brink of oblivion," said Alchara. "Seathorius is theirs by right, as is all of Harlenor.


    However, I am not Elranor. I will not exterminate a species capable of good or drive them away just to press my claim. Your Nakmar makes many beautiful things and has many virtues.


    "The same cannot be said of the satyrs."


    "What do you mean?" asked Kiyora.


    "Let us make an alliance," said Alchara. "If we cooperate, that cursed demoness cannot stand against us. Let our two peoples unite and descend on the satyrs. We will put every one of their wretched race to the sword and cast down their fortresses.


    "Then, with the land freed for use, we may divide it between our two peoples. If you help me with this, I will gladly accept Duke Vanion''s offer. And both our peoples will benefit."


    "You''re talking about exterminating an entire race!" said William.


    "You have seen them for what they are," said Alchara. "Cannibals. Blood drinkers. Murderers. Surely you cannot defend such a race?"


    "I can''t defend a person like that!" said William. "But I''ve met many satyrs. Few were pleasant company, but they have virtues like any other species. In time they could be turned away from what they are." S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Perhaps," said Alchara, "many things may happen in time. That does not mean they will. The population of high elves is growing. So is that of the Nakmar and the Satyrs as well. Another war is inevitable.


    "So if we must choose someone to be destroyed, let us choose the evil one presently. And not sacrifice the good for what might one day come to pass."


    Kiyora paused for only a moment. She couldn''t be considering this, could she? Yes, Alchara was radiantly beautiful and far wiser, but that didn''t change this way. "Kiyora, what she is suggesting... it is wrong," said William. "Don''t do this."


    "Was it wrong when Anoa the Butcher put my cities to the torch?!" cried Alchara, glowing so brightly that William was forced to avert his eyes. "Was it wrong when civilizations which had stood for millennia were burned to the ground! Its people made vagabonds!"


    "Of course it was," said Father, hands clasped together. "And were I in the mood for an argument, I should point out that you were far from blameless? But that was long ago. We have only control over this moment.


    "Calm yourself, milady. And allow Kiyora to make her choice."


    Alchara looked to Vanion, and he met her gaze. The two looked at each other long and hard. Kiyora remained silent. "No," she said at last. "I''m not going to commit genocide. Not even on something as horrible as the satyrs."


    "Well then, there is very little to discuss," said Alchara. "I suppose it will be a nice wedding."


    William realized he had to act soon. Oddly enough, he found his hand running over the Goldenwood Harp. What was it Kusher had said? It was holding him back?


    The harp was important to him. It was a mark of pride. But he could see Kiyora looked like she was about to cry. Maybe it didn''t make sense to him, but her world was different. And he wasn''t going to let this happen.


    "So if no one else has an offer-" began Alchara.


    "What about this?" asked William, showing the harp.


    Alchara looked up without surprise. "My old harp? That is mine, by right, to begin with.


    "Give it to me.''"


    The command rang through his head, and he took a step forward. He found his hands reaching forward to offer it and his knees almost falling into a kneel. Mustering his will, he drew it back. He''d had a lot of practice resisting the compulsions of gods and demons. "It has not been held by one of your subjects for thousands of years. If you leave Kiyora alone and let her choose her destiny without your interference, I will give it to you."


    Alchara paused as if considering. Yet William suspected she had known of this and wanted him to make the offer. "Now, that is something worth delaying my plans for. Very well, give it to me, and I will ensure that Kiyora can marry whomever she so desires. I''m certain she''ll make a poor choice, but then that is my fault for not giving her any ability to judge character.


    "Give me the harp."


    William handed it to her. As Alchara took the harp, he felt his entire being was being judged and gazed over. Alchara''s contemptuous gaze became less so after a minute. "Well, your motivations in this regard are almost pure. It nearly makes me rethink my views on the inferior races. No matter. As promised, Kiyora will be free to choose. Farewell."


    A cloud blocked out the sun, and she was gone.


    "Well, that went better than expected," said Vanion.


    "What?" said Kiyora. "But he had to give up the harp?"


    "In truth, I expected to fail," admitted Vanion. "I only made the offer out of general goodwill and later regretted it. Even I overextend myself sometimes."


    "Well, at least you''re honest about it," said Kiyora. "William, why give up the harp? That thing was powerful."


    "It... a friend of mine convinced me I''d better stop using it," said William, drawing off his helmet. "The music it makes is beautiful, but it isn''t mine. And until I can learn to make music like that on my own, I''m just a pretender."


    "Right," said Kiyora, shifting uneasily. "Um, William, I should wake up now. My parents will be worried about me."


    "Goodbye," said William.


    There was a long silence between them. Then suddenly, Kiyora stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."


    Before he could respond, Kiyora was gone. William felt the slight tingle on his cheek where her lips had met it. The feel of his armored hand against his face reminded him he was still wearing his full armor. He looked at the skull helmet in his hands.


    "You know," said William, "I''m beginning to think that Rusara may have gone overboard with this armor."


    "Yes," said Vanion, "I didn''t want to seem ungracious but-"


    "Lord Vanion," called a servant as he rushed into the room, "you must come quickly! Lady Azgora is giving birth!"


    "Damn," said Vanion. "William, change into something less terrifying and meet me in her room."


    "Right, yes, Father," said William.


    As Father ran off, William realized he was about to have a brother and sister. Despite the horrors of these past few months, he felt happy. There was a faint smile on his face. It was a beginning of sorts. And he couldn''t wait to see where it went.

 Book 5: Gods of Samrasa

    Well, that is my fourth book done on Royalroad. Now I have to find a way to pad the buffer chapter out a bit, so here goes. William''s storyline was written in advance of Relma and Sahshirs. His character was envisioned first, while Relma and Sahshir were possible supporting protagonists. Sahshir''s rather grim approach to life is the antithesis of his original characterization. He was originally supposed to be a hyperactive, justice-obsessed blood knight. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    His role was to charge in enthusiastically without regard to consequence. However, that characterization did not fit in. And since Sahshir was always envisioned as Middle Eastern, it fits even less as time went on. Calisha''s legendary rivalry with Harlenor was far too strong to justify it.


    Eventually, Felix was envisioned instead. Felix''s main idea was to be a controlled and competent foil to William. Someone who seemed like he could get out of anything. And someone who called William on his failings. Sahshir, meanwhile, was eventually reimagined into his present state. Doing so gave me a chance to write a story within Calisha. As for Relma, she wasn''t even originally going to be a perspective character. Relma wasn''t even really envisioned as a character. The basic concept was to have a perspective flip of the standard Chosen One narrative. One where character shows up and asks a lot of questions, and is awarded their special destiny.


    This would have been from William''s perspective. The whole idea was to.highlight the flaws in the trope. However, I concluded that the Chosen One would actually have to be a character. And a fairly important character at that, with a network of characters of their own. This is what led me to conceive of the character of Relma. A sort of pro-active Chosen One, actively pursuing her destiny.


    In retrospect, I am very glad I moved away from the original concept. In any case, the next storyline will be called Gods of Samrasa. Our next storyline will be a bit of a divergence from the standard plot. It will take place in the land of Tarasif, where different Gods reign, at a time well before the present day. The story will focus on the fortunes of a noble House of Tarasif, the Husafa.

 Gods of Samrasa: A Note from William

    This book would not be possible without my friend and companion, Tanith Telus. Indeed, she was the one who bullied me into compiling the bloody thing. I don''t know why she wanted me to compile it; I can only assume she hoped my name would bring it more prominence. At the time of compilation, she still grieves for our mutual friend, Prince Kusher of Khasmir. I believe his death is what spurred her to publish these writings.


    We began working on this project after the Khasmir Campaign''s end. This prologue details something of how the account was assembled.


    This was useful in the editing process and in examining certain documents.


    The many sources that were drawn on to gather information on it were by no means easy to collect. They lay scattered in a dozen different libraries. They were fragmented pages or forgotten tombs, hardly paid any heed. She found one such fragment and sought more information. Many of them had to be translated first. That Tanith did so demonstrates a level of skill at writing I did not know she had.


    Some help was offered by her slave, Atria, who was claimed as plunder from war. She was integral in helping with certain older texts that Tanith couldn''t read. Assistance was also rendered by Tanith''s friend Eitrigg, who has since become a priest. She did the translation during the Khasmir and the Calishan campaigns. However, certain areas had to be translated within Tanith''s home of Ran Telus.


    In her time raiding, Tanith demonstrated an interest in myth and religion. She never burned libraries and often would read through them after the conquest. Many of the books were later taken back to Ran Telus along with her other plunder. And so she was able to compile many different sources. This may well be the most detailed chronicle of the subject that Harlenor or Calisha has ever had. These, happily, were dispatched to me by her Father, the Lord Telus, who wished them published.


    This story''s events chronicle a major shift in power in the eastern land of Tarasif. It is a place farther east than even Dinis and west of Themious, where my Mother hails from. Safara has verified some of the information, having kept up an interest in her former Empire. Mother has verified others, and looking at the primary sources helps more.


    It has become apparent that Tanith, at several points, communed with the spirit of Jaha to verify the data. It was not a pleasant meeting for either of them, I gather. Jaha is the God of Peace and Justice, though she has little following in Harlenor. But Tanith claims she drew her characterization from observing the scenes.


    I suspect Tanith may have painted Jaha with too harsh a brush. And the deplorable Tamar was probably intended to be more sympathetic than she was. Tanith has always had a warped perspective on what makes a good person. But I digress.


    In those days, Tarasif was less united than it is now and under the rule of a mighty King called Samrasa. He had come to the throne through a series of stunning victories. The final one had been over, brother, Rantasa, the previous King. That had been when Samrasa was thirty, and he was near his seventies when the story began.


    Tanith''s notes were quite extensive, and I have chosen to try to formulate them as best I can. Oddly enough, Tanith seems to have little interest in the violence. Entire campaigns are skimmed over in a few paragraphs. Complex philosophical discussions with no direct relevance to the narrative are commonplace. At the same time, any combat that does not directly relate to the tale''s heroes is skimmed. Tanith''s great love may be violence, but on the page, she is of a different mind.


    I should caution the unwary reader that this book''s portrayals may be inaccurate. Tanith seems to have projected many of her existing relationships onto the characters. Taha seems almost a lens through which she interacts with the world of the story. And I have noted similarities between how Nendas is portrayed and myself.


    Tanith shortened or removed elements that she found dull routinely. The negotiations described between Kulat and Tarasif are absurd. Knowing something of diplomacy, I could never imagine some of these interactions happening. That is to say, nothing of army movements toward the end of the book. Tanith understood logistics better than this, so I can only assume she didn''t care.


    One chapter, in particular, is written from the perspective of Elranor. This one was not written or pieced together by Tanith but rather adapted from an intact fragment. Several of the descriptions are anachronistic. They detail objects and concepts unfamiliar to me. Kiyora was able to provide some guidance on the subject for translation. These matters are detailed at the end of the book. Ironically these out-of-context events are evidence of the truth of the fragments. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A Calishan or Tarasifian scribe making up a story would not have mentioned such things. For they would clash with the narrative they sought to tell. This assumes they even knew about them. I am thus convinced that the events presented in the fragment did take place in some form.


    In conclusion, this book should be taken as roughly accurate but with embellishments. With luck, new information shall arise to clarify the matter. Tanith''s preconceptions also color it, though I cannot say to what degree.


    I don''t see why she couldn''t have put it all together alone. She''d already done the translation.


    That being said, let us proceed.

 Chapter One: A Failure of Leadership

    The gardens of the Hasafa Clan were nice.


    A water clock was at work within the courtyard. Fish swam in and out of the rocks within the water. Meanwhile, the rose bushes were more beautiful than any Samrasa had seen. They were almost comparable in beauty to Lord Munsuf himself. Samrasa was sitting across from him now. Less so his twin brother, who came forward and bowed, going by the name Vandias. This man had fought in the wars; he had scars that his brother did not. He was a man of little use to his masters. It was a shame what had to be done.


    "...Well, brother?" asked Munsuf.


    "I am very sorry, Lord Munsuf," said Vandias. "However, Jaha has not allowed your daughter to become her avatar."


    "What?" said Munsuf, staring incredulously at him. "She was rejected?! Why? My daughter is the same vision of purity."


    "I do not know," said Vandias. "However, Sarafi seems to think it was because she didn''t want to be the priestess. Lady Jaha does not like forcing someone to be something they aren''t."


    "You mean to say that my daughter doesn''t want to be the Avatar of Jaha?" asked Munsuf. "But what more prestigious position could she take?"


    "None, for a Hasafa," said Vandias. "It is possible Sarafi does not want the prestige. She prefers spending time with her friends from the other houses."


    A charitable way of saying Sarafi had been rejected outright. A shame; Samrasa had been hoping to keep the temple to Jaha intact for a time. He''d always tried to preserve the art whenever possible. But when it directly depicted a Goddess, as all of Jaha''s art did, it meant the temple had to be hollowed out.


    How Samrasa wished religions used more symbolism.


    Symbolism was easy. All you had to do was reinterpret to mean something about man''s greatness. Or as a metaphor for the eternal search for the unknown.


    "But there must be an Avatar of Jaha, mustn''t there?" asked Samrasa. "We need one to ensure the legitimacy of our future actions. The chaos caused by religious strife must end. And the Goddess of Peace is a critical tool to that end.


    "Already, the worshippers of Barden have spoken out against our efforts. And others have done the same."


    "...King Samrasa, with respect, is it appropriate to speak of gods as though they were tools?" asked Vandias. "Let alone within the domain of a God?"


    Ah, a man who was not afraid to speak his mind. "Do they regard us as anything different?" asked Samrasa. And there was little he could say to that; the history of divine atrocities was long. "Munsuf, are there any other possible candidates for the position of Avatar of Jaha?"


    "There are others," said Munsuf. "None closely connected enough to ensure succession, however. It is custom that the Avatar of Jaha is wed to the heir apparent of the Hasafa Clan."


    "And who is the present heir, now?" asked Samrasa thoughtfully.


    "My son, Nendas," said Vandias. "He is training extensively for war and hopes to join in the battle against the rebels of Kulat. As soon as their justification for putting down their ''rebellion'' of course." The sarcasm was slight but noticeable. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "An admirable desire," said Samrasa, considering what angle to approach this from. How to begin the destruction of a religion?


    The first step was always to get them to abandon their identity. Convince them to give up some sacred tradition or principle and then do it to another and another. Eventually, the god they worshipped was little more than a hollow excuse. All to hold ceremonies they did not believe in. From there, you could convince them the entire institution was a glorified means of theft.


    Then the battle was won.


    But before you could give up their silly superstitions, you had to get them to be willing to change them. Once the masses would alter their religion''s central beliefs on a whim, they would abandon them. Then you could simply make it official. "The Avatar of Jaha is traditionally always female, are they not?"


    "Yes, and they hold great sway over how the Clan is run," said Munsuf. "Usually, they are chosen as a wife to the heir to ensure power is centralized."


    "It is to ensure Queen Jaha has a clear say," said Vandias, what might have been irritation in his voice. "What you describe is merely a later invention, Musuf. Jaha originally did not marry the heir but merely remained enshrined as a source of guidance."


    Ah, so here was a man who believed and understood his faith.


    That was the first person you needed to remove. If worshippers did not understand their faith, they would compromise it. Once they did not believe it, you could substitute just about anything for the god.


    And if it was neither understood nor believed, then the cult was at an end.


    Of course, the religious would say that not believing meant you were not part of their group. One look at the quality of the priesthood disproved that for Samrasa when he was young. A great many fat men who had many mistresses and cared nothing for their supposed deity. Yet, they were setting policies for the faithful they manipulated.


    There were few of those left.


    Samrasa had crucified most of them.


    "Whatever you wish to believe, brother," said Munsuf. "If my daughter had been chosen as the Avatar of Jaha, she could have married Nendas, and the problem would be ended. Officially Nendas would be the Head of the Clan, but in practice, all power would be hers."


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    "Yes, because power is the only important thing," said Vandias in a half-joking tone. Only it was hiding disapproval, not agreement. "Duty and honor are tools by which the dull-witted may be manipulated."


    So he was a romantic as well. Samrasa was not a romantic and decades of rule had taught him that principles were a liability. Only Munsuf laughed at that, perhaps in self-hatred, threatening to unravel his use.


    Vandias grew more dangerous by the moment, and something would have to be done. Samrasa doubted removing Jaha would be possible with this man, especially since he felt confident enough to question him openly.


    "Do you normally let your subordinates speak this way to you?" asked Samrasa, irritated by the statement.


    "I apologize, King Samrasa," said Munsuf. "My brother has antiquated ideas of how one ought to rule. He believes that the lies we tell the populace ought to come true. He needs to understand the necessity of our actions.


    "However, he has an excellent talent for negotiating with the lower orders.


    "And his advice is often useful. To say nothing of his skill at the battle."


    "When every man imitates our actions, the world will end in fire and ruin," noted Vandias. "Can you say the same of my beliefs?"


    "Of course, I can''t, brother," said Munsuf. "My point is that such things require a balance. Peaceful, good people need ruthless, violent people to ensure they can remain so."


    "No, they don''t," said Vandias. "I assure you, ordinary people would get along just fine if all the raiders and thieves of the world died out. Conversely, the raiders and thieves would eat each other and become mere animals. Until they became farmers."


    "Yes, but the real problem is getting rid of all the raiders, isn''t it?" asked Samrasa, coming to dislike the man more by the moment. The way he spoke with confidence irritated him, and his clear intelligence was worse. No intelligent man had any business believing in that divine nonsense.


    "You see what I must contend with?" laughed Munsuf.


    "You have an understanding of philosophy?" asked Samrasa of Vandias. Munsuf chafed at the snub. Yet he could not move against Samrasa without going through Vandias.


    "I studied it in Kulat before tensions began to grow between our nations," said Vandias. "I would have gone to Tarasif, but I thought all the burning books would limit the study''s usefulness."


    "That is an unfortunate necessity, I fear," said Samrasa, deciding to shift the subject. "Kulat was part of Tarasif''s dominion for centuries. Even before the Sarafian Empire rose to power. However, motivating the people to march to war is difficult pragmatically. One needs a cause to pursue the interests of the state."


    "Perhaps you should examine what those interests are," noted Vandias. "And how they benefit the state."


    Ah, so that was it.


    Vandias was the leader in all but name. This kind of open confidence could not be held by one who was a subordinate. And with good reason. There was a dangerous man and a powerful ally for Munsuf. He would make the Hasafa a formidable enemy in time as Samrasa''s influence grew. It would be a shame to kill one so beautiful as Munsuf.


    Fortunately, Munsuf seemed to chafe under his brother''s dominance. He lacked the will to make his own decisions and resented his brother. Or so Samrasa guessed.


    "I shall do so," said Samrasa. "Please, leave us."


    "Forgive me, King Samrasa, but I am an advisor to the Lord of the Hasafa," replied Munsuf''s brother. "I can be dismissed only by him."


    Munsuf said nothing.


    "Your loyalty do you credit," said Samrasa. "But I have likewise dismissed by advisors, save one of the most trusted. And I would speak with him alone."


    Munsuf had both their gaze on him. Now was the critical moment. If Munsuf dismissed his brother, Samrasa could manipulate him for his good. If he stayed, things would be problematic.


    "I have no enemies here, brother," said Munsuf.


    "Is it truly wise to dismiss your counsel when discussing matters of-" began the brother.


    "I don''t need you," said Munsuf. "For this." He added.


    "As you wish," said the man.


    Vandias bowed, then he turned and left.


    It had happened too easily.


    There was the most problematic of soldiers. Vandias was the kind who questioned authority and valued higher ideals. Samrasa had been forced to make himself a kind of god to substitute for religious fervor. His word was divine law now, by another name. A necessary convenience and people like him broke the image.


    "You have a very dangerous brother, Munsuf," said Samrasa simply. "He knows how to ask inconvenient questions."


    "Yes, I am well aware," said Munsuf, pleased to be treated equally. He seemed to be searching for common ground. "And now that Jaha has all but put her support behind him, we have a problem."


    "You believe Nendas will not serve our purposes?" asked Samrasa, seeking to drive a wedge between them. Say ''our'' purposes to imply a unity of sorts.


    "Nendas is very much his Father''s son," said Munsuf, playing to Samrasa''s words. No doubt he was trying to seem important. "He believes in right and wrong, good and evil, and no compromise. He prays daily to Jaha, trains regularly, and studies a great deal. If he took power, he would do what he thought was right.


    "I had hoped Sarafi would be a check on him. He has a soft spot for her.


    "But that is no longer an option."


    Munsuf was trying to imitate Samrasa to appear in control. And it occurred to Samrasa that though he was thirty and full-grown, he appeared like a boy in a man''s body. Best to play to that desire for approval, to fill a Fatherly role. "Nendas... how good is he?"


    "His instructors all have the highest of praise for him, and the servants love him," said Munsuf. "He could be a valuable asset if he could be caged. They say he is wise and mature beyond his years.


    "But I fear I may have to destroy both of them first."


    That was a clumsy statement, revealed too quickly, and Samrasa doubted he had thought of it before.


    Either way, Munsuf was already at the point where he''d kill them both. He was just too intellectually feeble to realize it. Samrasa guessed there was some jealousy. He had seen Nendas once or twice, for he remained here while his Father went out on Munsuf''s business. The boy eagerly desired to please, but he was also serious and aware of his surroundings.


    In some ways, he was akin to Munsuf as he had been at that age, but with a work ethic and discipline, Munsuf had lacked. Perhaps that was why Munsuf wanted him destroyed.


    No Master wanted to feel less accomplished than his servant. And the best way to avoid being surpassed was to destroy those who would surpass you. Still, Munsuf could have been more useful beyond destroying his clan. He could be used to cage the bird and locked in place until its wings atrophied.


    To use Munsuf was to destroy him. And to use him would also kill Nendas and his Father. But if the order of events could be arranged, Nendas could also be used. Samrasa had long ago learned that true art lay in making use of them while you destroyed them. He had become very good at it. "Let''s not be too hasty.


    "I am certain a real use of them could be made. We need only manipulate events, so their destruction serves our purposes."


    "Oh really?" asked Munsuf, eager to be let in on the plan. "And what do you have in mind, my King?"


    Samrasa told him his plan, and Munsuf hung on his every word. This one would be enjoyable prey to catch even if he was older than the usual sport. And he might catch a younger one at the same time.

 Chapter Two: Asking and Receiving

    Nendas often prayed at the statue of Jaha.


    He didn''t feel anything by it; sometimes, it made no difference. But it was the sort of thing a leader of the Hasafa ought to do. Jaha, unlike some gods, wanted people to commune with her. She cared if the texts were to be believed, and no matter was too small for her.


    So, today he was praying within the garden he had never much cared for. The white roses were pretty, but he did not enjoy roses. Of course, he appreciated the servant''s efforts but had never seen the appeal.


    "Jaha, I..." said Nendas, hands clasped together as one ought to. "I don''t usually like praying all that much, even though I should. I should talk to you about what''s been happening. Everyone in the Clan has been acting odd.


    "Father has been meeting with Uncle and King Samrasa. Sarafi and I are told to stay out of the way, but...


    "Samrasa is a great man. He''s won many great victories and is recreating Tarasif. Uncle has renewed the alliance with him for a reason. Even so, everyone is tense.


    "I don''t know why."


    Nendas had been about to run out of anything to say. However, he was spared the humiliation when the doors opened. Turning around in irritation, he saw Sarafi come through the door, brown hair tied behind her. "Nendas!"


    "What is it, Sarafi? I am at prayer?" said Nendas. "You can''t just barge into the prayer chamber like this."


    "I just did," said Sarafi, sticking out her tongue. "Why are you always spending all this time in front of statues."


    "Jaha is our deity, Sarafi," said Nendas, though he''d disliked spending all this time here. "One ought to pray to her every day.


    "Even if they''re is very little to talk about."


    "Well, fine, whatever you say," said Sarafi. "But I don''t bother with it."


    She was outspoken, as always. Didn''t she care about her duty at all? Then again, people seemed fond of her. "You should."


    "Why?" asked Sarafi. "It''s not like the Gods have been very talkative lately anyway? And I''m pretty sure they''ll be phased out anyway."


    "Phased out?" asked Nendas, not understanding what she meant. "What are you talking about?"


    "Father always says that Gods are what we draw our authority from," said Sarafi. "So if you have some other source of authority that is better, why not use that? Just use whatever works."


    That was a surreal statement. "And what better source of authority are you going to ask for?"


    "Well, how about Father?" asked Sarafi.


    Nendas decided it best to nip this concept in the bud. Some clans had argued that patriarchy was the only real authority. Usually, to justify switching to a different god. "...As much as I love and respect my uncle, Sarafi, I do not think he ranks the same as a god."


    "But we''re the ones who make the offerings and make the statues and shrines," said Sarafi. "Jaha''s power can''t be infused without that. The Gods come to this world on our terms."


    "Who has been teaching this nonsense, Sarafi?" asked Nendas, now genuinely disturbed. "The Gods are more than capable of influencing the world without the offerings. Those things are how we commune with them and allow us to bask in their power.


    "Through prayer, we receive instructions on what we ought to do.


    "Is all this why didn''t you accept your position as Jaha''s Avatar?"


    "I didn''t refuse to accept it," said Sarafi. "She said I didn''t want it, and I didn''t. So she didn''t offer it to me. I''m not stupid enough to try and lie to a god. So I didn''t."


    "Well, why didn''t you want it?" asked Nendas, at a loss.


    Sarafi shrugged. "Because Father says we''re going to look into alternative sources of authority. Why would I want to be the Avatar of Jaha if Jaha is going to get sidelined soon anyway."


    "...Are you sure Uncle said that, Sarafi?" asked Nendas. Uncle had always said they should respect the Gods. Though Father and he had quarreled of late. "You might have misinterpreted him."


    "Well, he never says anything like that around you," said Sarafi. "You scare him."


    "What did Uncle say when you told him why you didn''t get chosen as the Avatar of Jaha?" asked Nendas, privately believing it though he ought not to.


    "Well... he didn''t say anything at the time," said Sarafi. "But I heard him screaming in incoherent rage after I left the room. I think he was counting on me lying to Jaha."


    Nendas decided he had had enough of this conversation. "Have you seen my father?"


    "Oh yes, that''s why I came looking for you. He''s about to be sent out on a mission by Father," said Sarafi.


    "What mission are you talking about?" asked Nendas, who had heard nothing about this. Such arrangements were usually discussed weeks in advance. Father had many important responsibilities. And all the more as Uncle surrendered more and more of his. Did he expect him to drop them all?


    "Uncle Vandias* is supposed to negotiate with the Priests of Barden in Tarasif. It''s on behalf of King Samrasa," said Sarafi. "King Samrasa wants them to uh make some... what was it... concessions? Or to move out of the city?


    He finally ran out of statues to melt down. Melting down the metal statues of one''s predecessor was an old tradition. And it was especially favored among Tarasifian Kings. At one point, they had gone through six Kings in five years. After Samrasa put an end to the bad old days, he had been more restrained about it. But a golden statue was a treasury waiting to happen. And when you fought as many wars as Samrasa, you needed all the money you could get.


    He''d tried to keep some of them. But one invasion after another had seen them disappear off the pedestals. The older man had spoken of it over dinner once with a sad look in his eye. Nendas suspected that he regretted his brother''s death and wanted to keep the relics.


    Reuniting the old Safaranian Empire was a task generation in the making.* And it was one not one anyone alive would see come to fruition. Even if you were to conquer all the surrounding lands, you would have to conquer Dinis to the west. And that would be a near-impossible task as things stood. Even crossing the Euphus River would be difficult. Samrasa had settled with thwarting a Dinis invasion in his younger years.


    Part of the problem was all the mountains to the south, cutting off contact with the seas beyond. Barden had raised them up to defend against the Babarassians. And they stretched to Spirta in the southmost. They were safe from that angle, but Tarasif could not reliably access the Sea of Power. All their trade went through Dinis, who charged tolls. The only other alternatives were the Spirtana warrior women and the Viokins to the north.


    No, Kulat and Themious to the east were the real priorities. There was a place where strength could be gathered. The fortifications of Dinis were too strong, the Legion''s invincible in fair battle. Only through ambush and harassment had Samrasa defeated them. And it had been a gruesome conflict. The corpses of thousands of legionaries hung rotting on the shores of the Serpent River. A gruesome warning to those who would try again.


    Sarafi had studied all this, of course. But she lacked interest in these things, a flaw she inherited from Uncle. Uncle, who had the standard of a Dinisian Legion on his wall. It served as a testament to the triumph of Grandfather. There had been a man of steel will to match the grace of Jaha.


    There had been no love between them, but after his death, Samrasa sought the Hasafa Clan''s favor. Although the attention, according to Father, had put jealous eyes upon them.


    "Well, where is he now?" asked Nendas. "I must speak with him."


    "I''ll lead you to him," said Sarafi. "Come on."


    Sarafi led Nendas from the prayer chamber, and he was careful to close it behind him. Mentally, he reminded himself to make an offering of some kind later when he had a chance. But, for now, they went through the wood-paneled rooms. Nendas noticed the servants looked restless.


    Something was happening.


    When they found Father, he put on his sword belt and tied his hair back. The sword itself was lying against a rack in pristine condition. The scars on his face had never healed from his time in battle. Vandias Hasafa had served well in the wars, but direct combat was never his specialty.


    "Father?" asked Nendas.


    "Oh, Nendas, Sarafi, I was hoping to catch you before I left," said Father, ruffling Sarafi''s hair.


    "You''re going so suddenly?" asked Nendas.


    "Yes, the Priests of Barden are causing problems," said Father. "They have been preaching that people must return to the worship of certain banned gods. By neglecting their duties to them, they claim, they are endangering the city as a whole."


    "Which ones?" asked Sarafi.


    "Zigildrazia, Coinfurth, and um... well, no one has dared stop offering to Baltoth yet," said Father. Baltoth was feared greatly in Tarasif, though little loved. His agents had destroyed the Safarian Empire by seizing Safara, after all.


    Though the Hasafa had not minded the loss of the Serpent Goddess, Jaha had clashed with her several times. And there had been concern her coils were gripping too tightly around them. Rebellions had broken out almost instantaneously against the snake spirits after she left. Now they had fled into the marshes and woods of the south. There they hunted those foolish enough to seek them.


    "You mean the Demonic Archons?" asked Nendas. "Why would anyone want people to return to their worship?" Under Rantasa, Zigildrazians had come to great power. Children had been burned alive within pots of bronze. And after the ceremony, the murderous mothers spoke of it as a liberating experience. Some would even highlight their status as mothers of living children.


    Samrasa had begun his use of crucifixion with them.


    "Well, the argument is that, like it or not, the demonic archons have a hold within Tarasif," said Father. "And by rooting them out unprovoked, we are risking their wrath. Tarasif''s recent victories have made it many enemies.


    "If the demonic archons are enraged, they''d side with our enemies. And, according to the Priests of Baltoth, the other gods are none too happy about it. So they might not support us as strongly."


    "But aren''t the demonic archons their enemies?" asked Nendas.


    "Officially, yes," said Father. "But you have to understand, Nendas. Most deities are part of a pantheon. We regard the pantheon with awe, but it is more or less a social circle. It is a social circle of mighty beings, some good, some bad. They also know of several other clubs and sometimes conflict with them.


    "Now, each social circle has its idea of how the world should be run. And they fight one another over it. They play factions against one another for their benefit.


    "What Samrasa is doing is holding them accountable for their actions. He''s rooting out the worst part of them. But the others are now afraid. They don''t trust Samrasa and regard him as a rogue.


    "Even if Samrasa is purging people who deserve what happens to them, it sets a precedent. It is a precedent that might lead to all of the others. Most are given similar special treatment. So, we have to be very careful. If we''re not, we could lose the gods'' support."


    "And what are you supposed to do about it?" asked Nendas.


    "Oh, I''m a well-known moderate," said Father. "My plan is to talk with the various priests, and arrange some give and take. With luck, we can ensure both sides tolerate one another."


    "What do you mean by ''give and take,'' Uncle?" asked Sarafi. "Why should we give anything to troublemakers?"


    "Well... if you want a stable society, you have to have everyone be willing to work for that society," said Father. "If one side gets everything and everyone else gets nothing, then you get war. Both sides polarize and come to hate one another as inhuman and try to exterminate the other.


    "If the oppressor wins, they brutalize the oppressed until another rebellion overthrows them. If the rebels win, they turn the tables and brutalize those that used to victimize them. They become the oppressors. It never ends.


    "That''s why give and take is necessary.


    "What needs to happen is that every element of society must recognize they are part of a whole. Everyone must see the flaws in their own faction and see that those who abuse their power are cast out. If both sides prosecute their worst aspects, peace is natural, especially if both respect one another.


    "No one wants to make war on a good man. And no one wants to have a monster on their side. The trick is seeing the ones'' on both sides for what they are."


    "What do you have in mind for giving and taking Father?" asked Nendas. He had always been interested in such philosophy. However, he''d never fully understood it.


    "Well, I''d try to convince Samrasa to prosecute some of his soldiers. Some who abused their authority," said Father. "There have been a rising number of those lately. Regardless of whether that authority was done to a staunch atheist or a worshipper, it must be. Justice must be applied to everyone, after all."


    "What''s an atheist?" asked Sarafi.


    "Someone who does not believe gods exist," said Father.


    "Atheists?" asked Nendas. "I don''t believe they exist. The Gods make themselves known constantly." Though he felt that statement was not wholly his own, Jaha had a part of every Hasafa Clan member.


    "There are some philosophical arguments that I read of during my time in Kulat," said Father. "Some men theorized that the gods were hallucinations given physical form. They have power from the inherent power of mortals. And only our collective belief in them gives them any power.


    "But, of course, that doesn''t hold up if you think about it. Even if our collective belief in them gives them power and allows them to exist, they still do. We do not cease to exist because we must eat and drink.


    "And anyway, time itself is an illusion.


    "What exists always did exist and always will. We, mortals, are looking upon one page in a great book. Even if we turn the page, the events we experienced are still there."


    "But others experience different events," said Nendas. "If two different men read the same book, they shall have different experiences. And if a man rereads the same book years later, he may feel very differently about him."


    "But he would have read that book with a given interpretation at one time," noted Father. "And therefore, that experience would still exist. Just in a different form."


    "I don''t get it," said Sarafi. "You were talking about giving and taking. And now you''re going into this philosophical stuff."


    "Excellent point," said Father with a laugh. "I must attend to the moment.


    "Anyway, we''d demand something in return once we made a concession. Religious groups would have to give up members of their congregation. Those who committed crimes would be yielded to the law. We also suggest that they alter or downplay aspects of their faith. For the most part, elements that could cause social unrest.


    "Some of Samrasa''s lieutenants are overzealous, however. And some of the religions could be more pleasant. It will be difficult, but in Jaha''s name, it shall be done."


    "But you mentioned no one went after Baltoth," said Sarafi. "Why not?"


    "Baltoth is... not the kind of person to want to offend," said Father. "He made his pantheon from scratch, and even the other gods are terrified of him.


    "Also, he is the Lord of Order, even if he is a usurper. So it''s best to avoid conflict with him for now. Regimes that go after him tend to come to bad ends. Rantasa raided his temple. Ever afterward, his supply lines fell into utter disarray. Many of his officials became corrupt or more corrupt, and his men became disorderly.


    "The whole rebellion fragmented. Hand me my sword, will you, Nendas?"


    Nendas nodded and picked the blade up. "Yes, Father."


    He brought the blade over to Father and examined it. It was a simple blade, so simple that it was unmarked. There were no symbols or decorations; it was simply practical. A very good sword Father kept with him from the wars.


    But as Father took it from Nendas'' hand, he looked at it. "...You know, I''ve never been any good with this." And he handed it back. "You keep it. I''ll carry my spare, and you can return it to me when I get back."


    Nendas took the blade and made sure not to lose it. "Thank you, Father."


    "You know, Uncle, I think you''d make a better Avatar of Jaha than me," said Sarafi.


    "Don''t be absurd, Sarafi. I''m a man," said Father. "It''s not in my nature to be peaceful. And I''ve never liked tea."


    Father left far sooner than Nendas would have liked and found himself alone. Sarafi had gone off to speak with her friends or something. And then, a servant came to him. "Master Nendas?"


    "Yes?" asked Nendas.


    "Lord Munsuf wishes to speak with you," said the servant.


    Nendas nodded. "I''ll see you off if I can, Father. And I''ll give you back your sword."


    Father laughed. "I know you will."


    Nendas went through the halls, wondering why Uncle wanted to speak with him now. Coming into his office, he sat down. Munsuf had many books on his shelves, but virtually none of them had ever been touched. Nendas had been here once or twice and almost asked to read one.


    However, it would have seemed wrong somehow. The Lord Munsuf had put them there for appearances, and marrying them with use would hurt that. How expensive had those books been, though? The Hasafa Clan employed several spirits capable of transcribing books. But it still took time and was expensive.


    "Uncle, you called for me?" asked Nendas.


    "Yes, Nendas," said Munsuf. "How would you feel about becoming the first male Avatar of Jaha?"


    Nendas stopped short, wondering if this was some attempt at humor. "The Avatar of Jaha?


    "How is that even possible?"


    "It has never been done before; however, there is no rule in the laws against it," said Munsuf. "I have the assurances of those responsible for reading them."


    Nendas privately wondered why he had not checked the laws on such an important matter. But Uncle had always preferred to delegate. "I don''t understand why we should seek such an unprecedented move. The Avatar of Jaha is sworn to peace, not to harm anyone. I am training to be a warrior."


    "I know, and we understand that," said Uncle. Who was ''we''? "Certainly, your place in the battles to come should not be denied you. However, I fear we are running out of time."


    "What do you mean?" asked Nendas.


    "Sarafi was meant to become the Avatar of Jaha, Nendas," said Uncle. "Many important plans wrested on it being so. However, Jaha refusing to accept my daughter into her service has put us into a severe dilemma."


    "What do you mean by that, Uncle?" asked Nendas. Who was the Lord Munsuf to declare who Jaha was meant to choose? "Are we not stronger than ever before? We have a powerful alliance with Tarasif, and things are going well.


    "Can''t we wait?"


    "Yes, we could wait," said Munsuf, seeming irritated. "But there must always be an Avatar of Jaha. And with the current situation, we need one more than ever. For Jaha is the Goddess of Peace, and with no wars, our task is now one of negotiation and understanding.


    "If such a thing is not reached, war will surely break out."


    Nendas thought something was wrong here and could not see what it was. "Why did you wait for Father to be gone? I could have consulted him."


    "Oh, he knew of the plan," said Uncle a bit too quickly. "I asked him not to speak to you about it on my behalf. I didn''t want there to be any misunderstandings."


    Was that a lie? Nendas thought it sounded like a lie. But why should he even consider questioning the head of his clan? "What exactly do you want me to do, Uncle? And why me?"


    "Well, you are often seen praying to Jaha when other youths your age ignore her," said Uncle. "Go to her on my behalf and ask that she inhabit your form as Avatar. But ask that you be allowed to pursue your duties as a man nonetheless.


    "Fighting and securing the kingdom, when necessary."


    "Uncle, to do this would lose me my ability to inherit," said Nendas, more for his benefit than his own. Being the heir to the Hasafa Clan had never been important to him. He simply wished to serve in whatever way he was best qualified. "Who will take my place as heir? Do you think Sarafi can run the clan on her own?"


    "Well, surely you could marry her eventually, nonetheless," said Munsuf.


    Did Uncle truly not know that much? If so, how could Nendas inform him otherwise? He couldn''t flat-out call him ignorant. "You test me, Uncle.


    "Marriage between the Avatar and the Head of the Clan is between Jaha and the Clan. The purpose is that she should temper their warlike desires. And by doing so, channel them toward true peace.


    "Sarafi is a girl and does not have that problem. So the marriage would serve no purpose. It would also be putting Jaha into the position of being a homosexual.


    "Such a thing would be an abomination."


    Munsuf shifted at Nendas'' voice and struggled to meet his gaze. "...That is a matter of some interpretation, Nendas. Perhaps Jaha is a being who exists beyond gender and can be male and female."


    "All of our texts say otherwise," noted Nendas, a little annoyed. Did Uncle truly know so little about his own clan? Or rather, did he simply not care? "I imagine Jaha could have clarified the matter."


    "Perhaps the texts were mistaken," said Munsuf. He didn''t even respond to the idea that Jaha could set a policy of her own.


    "Many texts from other lands say the same," said Nendas. "I''ve read them. Or perhaps I am reading the wrong books." This was ridiculous. Why did Nendas have to lecture a man twenty years his elder while pretending to be lectured? "If I am, please correct me."


    Munsuf put up the appearance of being very pleased by his questions. "You''ve learned your lessons well. But, it is all a matter of interpretation.


    "In any case, if you cannot marry Sarafi, alternatives may be found. I cannot force you to do this, nor would I. But please go to Jaha on my behalf and present this possibility to her.


    "Now, please."


    And there was another oversight. Uncle was telling Nendas to go present this plan to Jaha on his behalf. But by all accounts, Munsuf was the one who ought to commune with Jaha. He''d married one of her avatars.


    "But..." said Nendas. "Uncle, surely you could commune with Jaha about this yourself. I mean only to say that for me to make such a proposition would seem... unbefitting of my place."


    "I believe it would be better if you spoke to her," said Munsuf. "And you speak with her on my authority. But, for various reasons, I would prefer to avoid speaking with her."


    Nendas nodded at the order. "Yes, Uncle."


    Standing up, Nendas walked out.


    As he did, half his mind thought Uncle was an absolute fool who could not feign understanding. The conversation had confirmed a suspicion that had been growing for years. Father ought to be in command of the clan all along. The prosperity they had experienced was owed to Munsuf foisting the job on others.


    What made it worse, however, was the knowledge that Munsuf believed Jaha to be his property. A Goddess who transcended his existence by an infinite number of years was being treated as an asset. A kind of position that could be handed over to anyone and altered to fit his personal whims. Sarafi had not wanted the position, and Munsuf didn''t want it to remain unfilled. So he simply thought he could change the rules.


    As if the holy texts were mere ink on a page to be altered at will? Who was Lord Munsuf to declare the holy canon of Jaha to be null and void? He was trying to rewrite the central belief system of the Hasafa Clan to fit some private political whim. In a few years, if nothing was done, he''d move on to something else to ruin out of spite.


    If he''d had any respect for his Uncle, it would have been gone. Then again, there was no way Uncle would be brave enough to try this on his own. Why all this so suddenly?


    Was this the work of King Samrasa? They had been meeting together a great deal lately.


    Still, it was of no real relevance whether Nendas respected Munsuf. The patriarch of his clan had given Nendas an order, and he had to obey it. And so he walked to stand before the prayer room once again. As he kneeled, Nendas felt he was doing something he couldn''t back away from. sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    So he must at least present the idea to Queen Jaha.


    Perhaps he could simply pretend to pray and come back to say the request had been rejected. The request was completely ridiculous; anyone, Jaha ought not to be bothered by it. But, no, that seemed like something Uncle would do. Nendas considered that he might lose his position as heir. Then he considered that Uncle stood nothing to gain by not having Nendas as an heir. And the laws of the clan meant nothing to him.


    So it might happen anyway.


    And in any case, Nendas had been given a particular place in the world. It was his duty to fulfill that place. All creatures were given a task to perform, and whether they did it well or poorly was how they were judged. So he must make the best argument he could on behalf of Uncle''s position and accept the result. So he prayed.


    "Queen Jaha..." said Nendas. "I''m here from my Uncle with a message. He and King Samsara are concerned about the future. Although they''ve won many great victories, they are afraid that... well, they believe an Avatar of Jaha is needed to help stave off a war.


    "And... Sarafi wasn''t worthy of the position."


    Silence and Nendas had the feeling it wasn''t about Sarafi being unworthy. "Yes, I mean, she did not want the position, but...


    "My Uncle has asked me to... offer myself in her place. He believes that as your Avatar, I will... will be able to do your will. However, I would also have to continue fighting on my clan''s behalf and people''s behalf. I would need to fulfill my obligations, such as they are.


    "If this arrangement is not your liking, we expect nothing, however...


    "If it is your will, I am your vessel."


    Silence.


    Nendas felt drained for a moment. Then, suddenly, the light from the statue emanated, and Nendas felt what might have been an embrace. And everything went white.


    *I should note that Vandias might be a mistranslation. Rusara assures me that Navrion was the name of Nendas'' Father. She has studied older texts before their destruction. However, Rusara may be operating on outdated linguistics.


    While divine power does bless one with the ability to understand any language, it has limits. While you understand the language, you do not learn it. Merely understand the intent of the speaker. Thus you gain comprehension of their words by proxy. You also cannot understand any language contrary to your own nature.


    Tanith was always better with languages, and Tarasif was far off. So I have simply adapted her writing of it and made this note.


    *Much of the historical data in this chapter was outside the original translated texts. However, I felt it necessary context, and Nendas would surely have known most of it. Thus I have integrated the information where necessary and convenient for the text.


    If nothing else, it should give the reader a greater understanding of the land of Tarasif. Assuming that any of this is even remotely accurate, there is such a thing as propaganda.

 Chapter Three: Awakening

    Nendas woke up in his bed in his room. The light coming through the curtains of his window was orangish, that of a sunset. It was said that such a waking foretold death, and Nendas prayed it no one he knew.


    His eyes struggled to open, and never before in his life had he felt so drained. His room remained furnished with little save well-read books from his Father and a bed. As he gradually got the feeling back in his limbs, he realized he was alive.


    Alive and drained. His eyes were closed, but he could sense it all around him.


    "Wake up, Nendas," said a voice. "We have work to do."


    "I''m alive," Nendas confirmed.


    "For the present, though, I expect we''ll all die someday," said a very different voice. Nendas opened his eyes and saw a familiar old man. He was somewhat grandfatherly in appearance, with mottled and scarred skin.


    Recognizing him, Nendas sat up. "King Samrasa I-"


    "Don''t stand up," said Samrasa. "You''ve had an eventful few days, Nendas."


    "Yes, I..." Nendas paused. "What happened?"


    "Perhaps a mirror would help more," said Samrasa, drawing up a mirror.


    Nendas saw the symbol there, that of a hawk flying freely above the clouds. It was on the brow of his head, and he remembered it. It had burned on the brow of Uncle''s wife for years. "This is...


    "The symbol of Jaha." And he felt a warmth, a sort of feeling that filled him and made him feel even more alive. "She... I can feel her within me..."


    "You can?" asked Samrasa, sounding somewhat surprised. Nendas wondered why; Samrasa believed in the god''s power at least. A King would have to know such things.


    "Yes, her presence is here within me. I... I feel strange," said Nendas, putting a note of horror into his tone. He did not think it quite safe to cite religious joy in front of Samrasa, even if he did feel like smiling.


    The Goddess Jaha had chosen to reside within him.


    Him.


    This was an honor beyond compare, and Nendas tried to stop from smiling. He succeeded.


    "It is to be expected. We have never attempted anything like this before," said Samrasa. Then he looked at Nendas very hard. "You do know what your Uncle has done to you, don''t you?"


    So was Samrasa trying to play Nendas against Uncle? Was it a means of gaining Nendas'' approval? It was best to see where this went. "Done?


    "Uncle has done nothing to me. He asked me to offer myself to Jaha, and I did so."


    "Yes, but have you considered what that means?" asked Samrasa. Ah, so that was his game, worldly temptation. "You will be in no position to inherit anything. Even if a political marriage is made between you and Sarafi, you will have no real influence. Sarafi will hold all political power."


    A sense of grief came to Nendas that Samrasa should be so obsessed with the world. And a desire came to him to reach out. Nendas settled for looking down at his hands and feigning conflict. "That doesn''t matter to me.


    "What I want is to serve Tarasif and Queen Jaha. If it means being a warrior, then that''s the future I will accept. If it means being a servant of peace, I''ll accept that as well."


    Nendas would have said it proudly. But doing so might lose his head, and he could be of no assistance to anyone like that. At the same time, if Samrasa was trying to manipulate him, Uncle probably knew about it. Samrasa was probably trying to play both of them against one another as a means of keeping his options open.


    Uncle probably thought he was in on the plan, and the whole thing was a deception fooling Nendas. Why was he thinking of things in such cynical terms? A presence in his mind told him this was not how he ought to think. Memories flashed through him of Sarafi''s mother and grandmother. Both had been graceful meditators, beautiful and demure. Not calculating in so brutal a fashion.


    Why the change? Perhaps because he was a man and Jaha''s power affected him differently.*


    "A very admirable mindset," said Samrasa, putting a hand on Nendas'' shoulder. His bare shoulder. The proximity was... distressing. "Though I fear that the universe does not always reward such devotion."


    "What do you mean?" asked Nendas, trying to appear innocent. He hated how Samrasa touched him and wanted to throw him off. The man was insincere and may have had a hand in whatever plan was happening here. At the very least, he was taking Nendas'' apparent vulnerability. For what? An opportunity for power? Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Though what kind of power? Nendas could not tell.


    "It''s nothing, of course," said Samrasa, drawing his hand back. "Tell me, what would you think of accompanying me to Tarasif?"


    "Tarasif, me?" asked Nendas, feeling genuine enthusiasm. He''d always wanted to see the Holy City, even under a new set of rulers from the old days. The ever-changing sets of soldier kings had not changed the importance of Tarasif. If anything, it had affirmed the city with symbolic importance.


    What was Nendas thinking? Samrasa had ruled since well before he was born and had a reputation as a powerful and benevolent King. He''d never known any other way. But then, Jaha had the women who were possessed by her before.


    Nendas considered that if he were in the King''s company, he''d have a chance to prove himself in battle. So there was the possibility of real glory in this mission. But that same voice argued that an Avatar of Jaha ought not to seek glory, and Nendas took her point.


    "Well, yes," said Samrasa, leaning back. "I''m told you''re quite the swordsman. I''m certain you could be of more use with me than here."


    "Of course. Gladly," said Nendas before remembering his duties. "That is if Uncle is willing to approve, of course." Uncle would, of course, approve, and refusing the offer was not an option. One did not snub a King. It raised questions of loyalty, and Samrasa was known for his treatment of traitors.


    The Hasafa had a narrow escape with Rantasa. They''d been necessary and had left his service earlier than the others. There were graveyards of those less fortunate, and others had fled west to Dinis. Little had been heard from them in years, save that some had married in with the locals. The Emperor had attempted to take Tarasif in their name but had been repelled.


    Even so, the idea of going with Samrasa troubled him. Nendas felt a deep sense he was heading into unfamiliar ground. Not just on a personal but on a cosmic scale.


    "I already discussed it with him," said Samrasa, voice very Fatherly. "To be perfectly honest, I''m concerned that Munsuf does not appreciate your loyalty. He is concerned about what you may say while here. It would probably be best if you made a name for yourself in the army."


    "Well..." Nendas considered how best to respond to such obvious bait. Make a desire to betray Uncle known, which could get him killed. Deny it outright would make it so he was contradicting King Samrasa. Best not to respond at all. "I would be an honor to serve Tarasif under you."


    "Excellent," laughed Samrasa. "I knew you to be of excellent make when I first saw you." He stood. "We leave tomorrow, be ready at dawn tomorrow. A warrior cannot afford to slack off."


    Nendas resolved not to disappoint him as he left. But his thoughts turned to violence? Would he have to kill people? He would have to kill people; that was what a warrior ought to do. Jaha must have been aware of this when she chose him, surely. If there was some alternative to this path, Nendas would take it if she wished. But he had obligations to fulfill, just like those before him.


    And an Avatar had to fulfill their duties as well.


    Standing, Nendas began to get dressed.


    Still, why were Uncle and Samrasa wasting time on such manipulations? He was already completely loyal to the Hasafa; hadn''t he clarified that? If they''d been trying to get him killed, they could have knifed him and been done with it. No need for manipulations at all.


    Nendas realized he was calculating things a great deal more than before. And he was doing so very shrewdly. Was this the power of Jaha? She was the Peacemaker Goddess and peace often required shrewd negotiation. That may be the reason. Only the Peacemaker''s Goddess power had manifested in others. Usually, as a kind of all-loving compassion. Each person''s perspective could be taken into account. Then a long-term solution could be found.


    Jaha had steered Tarasif along the road to stability since the fall of Old Tambarian. That had been before even Safara had created her Empire of Love. The two of them had an... interesting dynamic, one a serpent, the other a dove. All those statues and pictures had focused on her as a friend to all. So why did it manifest in this cold-blooded calculation within him?


    This was strange for him to experience, and it troubled him as he finished dressing and moved out. And then he heard two servants speaking.


    "Haven''t you heard?" asked Maka, an older woman.


    "Heard what?" asked Imogen, a pink-haired servant girl of foreign descent.*


    "Well, some of the others they..." began the first. "Lord Munsuf and King Samrasa have been spending much time together. Some say more than they ought to-"


    "Ahem," said Nendas, nearing them.


    They turned to him and stepped back at a pace. Then they bowed respectfully, as if to a divine figure. "Oh, uh...


    "Avatar Nendas, how may we aid you?"


    "I wouldn''t spread rumors," said Nendas, not minding the extra respect. "My Uncle and King Samrasa have plenty of reason to meet. And your implications are not appropriate." What they were suggesting was unthinkable. Possible but unthinkable nonetheless.


    "And please, do not refer to me by title." That last part was spoken for him, and he was surprised by it. Shifting, he looked around. "Where is Sarafi?"


    "Lord Munsuf and your cousin have departed on business," said Maka. "He wishes to oversee the farmlands and ensure she understands things operate. They will be gone for a week."


    Nendas nodded. "I see.


    "I suppose I won''t be able to see them before I go."


    That was all very convenient for Uncle, wasn''t it? He didn''t want to be associated with what happened here from the sounds of things. Or perhaps he was too much of a coward to look Nendas in the eye after this. Nendas genuinely didn''t understand how he could consider this a disservice.


    Whatever scheme they''d had planned, it would have been better executed without Jaha. So bringing her into this was a mistake and unsuitable. Except that thought didn''t seem entirely like his own.


    Nendas said his goodbyes. Then walked his childhood home and finally met the entourage of King Samsara the next day. It all passed in a blur, and he found his senses heightened, seeming to see people in light and shadow.


    Soon enough, in what seemed an instant, Nendas found himself walking. He was leaving the castle and walking toward the King''s company, which stood at the base of the hill. The banner was held aloft, but a man barred his path as he walked.


    He was a giant man, holding a sword that was as tall as a smaller man. He wore heavy armor, and a long black beard stretched down his chest. Judging from his tan skin, he was of foreign lineage. "Ah, so you''re here on time. Surprised from a man who is half a woman."


    "What did you say?" asked Nendas, gripping his sword. What was he doing? This was an irrational act that could get him killed.


    "Don''t take that tone with me, boy," said the man. "I am Ralign, head of Samrasa''s guard. I hope you have everything needed for travel because we won''t be stopping or going back."


    Nendas calculated that confronting this man at this point would be a poor decision. A voice told him he''d already been too quick to seek a confrontation. It was obvious he''d get little respect from his company. "I have everything I need."


    "Good," said the man. "Then let''s go. Fall in line."


    Ralign led Nendas to the convey, and Nendas got several looks he did not like. As Ralign came before Samrasa, Nendas chose to make himself scarce.


    "King Samrasa, all is for our departure," said Ralign.


    "Excellent, Ralign," said Samrasa. "Then let us begin."


    Nendas followed at the rear of the formation. As they walked together, Nendas noticed many dark glances directed at him. Suspecting it was because of what he is, Nendas decided not to walk with them. These men were quite effective, and he doubted they much appreciated him.


    As the column walked, Nendas observed and said nothing. For a few days, this continued, and Nendas ate alone, far away from the others. This was not his first journey or time sleeping outside, so he did not disgrace himself. On the fifth day, Samrasa was approached by a soldier who approached him with a spear. "My King, the executions you commanded have been carried out."


    "I see," said Samrasa. "Well, that unpleasant business has been carried out."


    The executions, as it turned out, turned out to be a large number of men. They were nailed to crosses and bleeding from wounds where they had been lanced. All of them were naked, and the cross was stained red.


    "...Who are these men?" asked Nendas of Ralign.


    "Degenerates," said Ralign. "Servants of Zigildrazia, or at least some of them. Others were seen engaging in the orgies of the Demon Queen. Homosexuals and deviants, all of them; their deaths are necessary. The depravity they represent must be weeded out so this world can flower."


    "But this method is..." Nendas paused on how best to explain it. "My clan has always used swifter methods."


    "It can take as much as a week," said Ralign with a grin. "They nail your hands and feet to the cross and hoist you up. Then, if you''re lucky, they put a lance through you. If you''re not, you lie there, bleeding slowly as you strive to breathe. Little by little, your lungs collapse, and you suffocate.


    "You''re not a degenerate, are you?" Was this a deliberate threat or an attempt at black comedy? Both seemed a fair answer.


    Nendas carefully took a step back.


    "Don''t scare the boy, Ralign," said Samrasa. "Not everyone understands the necessity of our actions.


    "And it''s never pleasant, doing what needs to be done."


    So Samrasa was trying to ingratiate himself to Nendas for some purpose. Ralign disliked Nendas for some reason. Whatever the reason, however, things changed when they moved through a pass.


    "Look there!" cried the lookout.


    "Assassins! To arms!" cried Ralign.


    "For the King!" said another.


    And just like that, Nendas found himself in his first battle. A crowd of men charged down the hill in large numbers. They wore armor and held weapons, but Nendas noticed they did not seem well-trained. As he drew his sword, he went with his fellows into battle.


    Parrying a sword, Nendas swiftly disarmed the man with a flick of his curved blade. Once done, he threw the man down. From there, he parried a stroke meant for his head and sent the blade spinning away with a move. Another blow rapped his enemy on the head before he kicked him down.


    A third came at Nendas with a huge axe, and Nendas stepped aside before putting a blade to the man''s throat. The man dropped his axe and fell to one knee.


    "Yield," said Nendas to the other two.


    A glance around revealed that the attackers had been repulsed. Most of them were dead, and the rest were being killed. But those he''d spared had their hands raised.


    "Excellent work, men! We''ve run the rest of them off! Kill the prisoners!" said Ralign before seeing that Nendas had the three alive. "What are you doing? Why are they alive?"


    "Would not King Samrasa wish for there to be captives," said Nendas.


    "What''s the matter, boy? Don''t have the guts to kill your man?" said Ralign.


    Several of the other ones laughed.


    Nendas felt a surge of fury in him, but it felt insignificant. He stayed calm. "If King Samrasa orders them killed, I shall do so myself."


    "What''s all this then," said Samrasa, coming forward.


    "I thought it best to have some captives to tell us where they had come from," said Nendas, not wanting to kill them. "They may have information for us."


    "We don''t need to hear him speak for that," said Samrasa. "Their armor is made in Kulat, and they have much reason to hate us. No doubt it was planned to kill me and send the realm back into anarchy."


    Nendas looked at the men and saw they had a heavy tan and long beards like that of Ralign, only twisted and wild. "But King Samrasa, this man is not from Kulat. His skin is like the merchants I have seen from the far east. They are Babarassian."*


    "Mercenaries, then," said Ralign.


    "What manner of mercenary needs to be dressed in the army of the nation that hires them?" asked Nendas. "Especially when such an assassination would be disguised. Kulat would not be foolish enough to enrage us in such a way. And these men... well, they were incompetent. I''m a green recruit, and these men are... it''s like they''re common highwaymen.


    "If they were trained mercenaries, I would have expected to be crushed."


    "Just what are you trying to say, Avatar of Jaha?" asked Ralign. "Do you question the King?"


    Nendas realized he''d made a major misstep. "...Nothing, I was merely making an observation.


    "Perhaps one of our enemies is seeking to frame Kulat, so we will march to war with them. Then they might fight a weakened opponent."


    Samrasa nodded. "It is worthy of investigation, certainly.


    "Now, execute the assassins."


    Nendas nodded and turned to where the assassins had several men around them. However, as he drew back his blade, he started seeing things. He thought he was this man, having come far from home on behalf of his masters. He was surrounded and about to die, perhaps even set up for it to happen. What was such a person thinking?


    What would his family think about losing him? What friends would he leave behind? What dreams are unfulfilled? And the more Nendas tried to drive the blade home, the more the thoughts filled him. "...With respect, King Samrasa, I am not... while his crime warrants death, Jaha is a Goddess of Peace. It would be against her nature to perform such an act."


    "But not against your nature," said Samrasa in a patient tone. "You are a warrior as well as an Avatar. How can you be expected to perform your duties if you cannot kill?"


    "Yet surely I should avoid it when possible," said Nendas, trying to will himself to strike.


    "Are you too good to kill, boy?" said Ralign. "The King has given you an order, coward! Obey it or-"


    "Enough, Ralign," said Samrasa. "His position is understandable. Being the host of a god is a serious burden. Especially when it disagrees with one''s own nature. It is true, Nendas, that your Goddess abhors death. But it was part of the agreement that you should perform such acts. And does it truly matter whose hands they die at?


    "If you do not kill this man now, one of my men will do it. And you will have failed in your duty as a warrior of the King. Can you do it?"


    Nendas paused. "...Yes, yes, my King, I can."


    "Do it, boy," said Ralign, hefting his sword. "You won''t get another chance."


    Nendas turned, mustered himself, and struck the first captive with his sword. The blow cut into the neck but not deeply enough.


    The man screamed, and blood spewed from it. Drawing back, he struck again, and the head came off. The others he wasted no time with, stabbing each through the neck quickly before they could beg.


    It was before they could see anymore.


    And just like that, Nendas had killed three men. He''d taken their lives, ended them and everything they could have been. He''d tried to avoid doing it, but he''d had to. It was his duty, and they''d attacked him. What else could he have done?


    Forcing himself to stand, Nendas refused to show emotions or cry. Samrasa nodded, and even Ralign seemed somewhat impressed.


    "Well done," said Samrasa, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You''ve killed three men in your first battle. Now, all of you, prepare to move on."


    Nendas must remain an Avatar of Jaha and a warrior at once.


    But he felt violated.


    It was as if a temple had become the fortress of a host of brigands. His actions came before him over and over. He noted that the other warriors treated him with more respect now. He supposed that not many of them had killed three men in their first battle.


    So that was the progress of a sort.


    And then, one night, while he was resting, a hawk descended to block the light of the moon. It landed before him and delivered a scroll, a letter marked with Father''s seal. Opening it, Nendas read it.


    Son,


    I knew nothing of any such arrangements by your uncle. Take no action in haste if you have not already. I do not think this offer was what it appears. My brother may be seeking to decrease your authority in the clan.


    I have taught you to trust your family.


    However, I believe you have been manipulated. If you read this, I will see you when you arrive in Tarasif. We will discuss what must be done then.


    For now, know that negotiations are proceeding well. I look forward to seeing you, though I wish it were under happier circumstances.


    -Your Father.


    If Father believed it, then it must be so.


    The inheritance meant nothing to Nendas. But something had to be done about something.*


    *No relation to the Goddess Imogen, I think. There are plenty of people named Imogen in the world. However, the name may have been foreshadowing within the text.


    Mother tells me that Imogen rose to power some decades before this point. However, I doubt a Goddess of Thieves would have much interest in the Husafa Clan. Law-abiding citizens do not seem her champion of choice.


    *I believe Nendas had fallen into a consensual form of mind control. I experienced similar feelings under the spell of Arraxia. Most mind control is based on focusing a person''s perceptions wholly on a given target. Then you press impulses toward that target. Once there, it is a matter of pressing their will until they break or you are driven out.


    Jaha''s own spell is unique in that the target also seems to be the recipient.


    It merges their will with hers to utilize them as a vessel to achieve their goals. It seems to have been done only to those who willingly choose it. However, it is also possible that the connection works in two ways. Nendas'' own nature may have been influencing how she made her plans.


    *Babarrassians have not come much into any of my writings so far, and I feel some context will be helpful. They were, at one time, the terror of the seas, as Escor will attest. They long-ranging ships situated on a continent south of Themious. Often they would raid Tarasif and the lands around and even struck as far west as Escor. This was, happily, before the Viokinar wars. However, the Babarrasians were even worse.


    Virtually no writings portray the Babarassians in a favorable light. They are a byword for irredeemable brutality in the places they walked. Some records in Escor portray Viokinar warriors as noble or strong. Not a single one I have seen has anything good to say about the Babarassians.


    Ironically, I do not think these men were Babarassians because of this. For one thing, Nendas could hardly have met one. Mountains had been raised long ago along the southern shore by Barden. And the only land route they''d have into Tarasif would be through Dinis or Spirta. Both of them were powerful forces in their own right.


    In addition, if my reckoning of time is correct, the Babarrasians were in the middle of a long period of decay. Dinisian naval bases in the Islands of Power had hemmed them in. McShore and Chaminus proved an ideal place to knock out their fleets. And Sorn''s superior naval organization had routed them several times. As such, I find it unlikely such a company of convenient ne-do-wells could be found. Even if they could be, they should be the last person I would assassinate a King. They''d be the talk of every village that walked through.


    As such, I believe that they were some other, less remarkable ethnic group that was despised. One that would not have been well-known enough to get the desired effect. You could have just as easily had Viokinar minotaurs or satyrs serve the same purpose.


    As such, the Babarassians are likely a mere poetic flourish. Thus symbolizing moral decay in the nation.


    *This odd conclusion to the chapter seems to have resulted from translation. The original phrasing had certain implications and plays on words.


    Many of them foreshadow future events. However, they have yet to come across at all here, and Tanith made no effort to replicate the effect. Unfortunately, my divine understanding of languages gives me no appreciation for language itself. Only the base meaning was translated through my own interpretation.


    Having not studied Tarasifian, I cannot appreciate the subtleties.

 Chapter Four: Showmanship

    Taha lived for nothing beyond her knives and finding ways to use them.


    It had taken years of training to achieve the finesse she wielded now. Hurling one knife, she tossed another after it faster. Both knives bounced off one another and sank into two different targets. The crowd cheered as Taha drew out two more knives, spinning them around.


    Hurling three at once, she shot one into three more targets in the archery range. Leaping back, she spun in midair to land on her hands. Cartwheeling back, she gained more and more distance. From there, Taha landed and hurled her knives again, this time at one target. Each landed in place so that soon four knives had become a symbol.


    The cross of Kulat.


    There were cheers, but not to the same degree that Taha would have liked. Halting, Taha took her second belt of knives from Rokas. Tying it over her empty belt, she turned to the people. "Would anyone care to present a target for me to shoot? Any target."


    "Are you certain you should be using such weak techniques, Taha?" asked Rokas. "Surely you could do better."


    "Always save your best trick for last, Rokas," said Taha. "You don''t want things to end in an anticlimax."


    "Ah, I see," said Rokas.


    Several more targets were provided. Taha followed their shots again and again, making increasingly difficult shots. As she did, she enjoyed the crowd watching her progress starstruck. But she also noted a bird''s sound and that the wind only came into this target range from the left side. She was wearing no great colors, only a brown tunic and pants, but that alone was good for her. Checking her hair buns to make sure they were still tied up, Taha smiled.


    "People of Kulat, thank you for your time! Thank you!" said Taha to them. "It has been a true honor to perform for the people of this city! However, I am getting to the end of my act!


    "So, this last technique I attribute to Tamar, Goddess of the Winds!"


    A convenient gust of wind added credibility to a made-up god. Taha liked the feel of the wind on her face as she always had. Rokas set up the targets. Taha smiled, drawing out the daggers and juggling them in her hands. She was catching them again with a winning smile to the crowd. "For this last act, I will make two throws and hit eight targets!"


    "Impossible," said someone. "No one can do that!"


    A bird was chirping in the trees above. That was an opportunity.


    "Oh, a doubter, are we?" asked Taha. "Well, by all means, doubt away! Rokas, thank you for the blades!


    "Since you doubt me, I shall do my target practice blindfolded!"


    Incredulous sounds came from the people. Taha took a moment to memorize her surroundings. On cue, Rokas came up behind her and tied the blindfold. From there, he turned her around to draw up the suspense. Within the darkness, Taha heard people holding their breath. And then she heard the birds chirping and the slight feel of the wind.


    Luck was with her as always.


    Taha turned into position, drawing out eight knives and holding them by the handle in a cluster. Hurling them, she then hurled the ninth knife after them and waited. This was the moment where she either botched the entire thing or succeeded.


    She''d done it before in practice. Never in front of a crowd.


    And then roaring cheers rose from all around them, and Taha drew off her blindfold. She smiled as she saw that every dagger had connected. She''d known she could do it!


    "She did it!" said one.


    "Thank you! Thank you!" said Taha.


    Next, things shifted to the questions. Taha enjoyed being asked questions and liked answering them in turn.


    "Where did you learn techniques like that?" asked a man.


    "I was chosen to be a Priestess of Tamar," said Tamar. "However, the path she set before me led me here rather than as a priestess."


    "Then you were among her chosen?" asked a woman. "You aren''t blonde. Your hair is as brown as any of ours."


    "My ascension as a priestess was called off to demonstrate her techniques," said Taha. That was technically correct. "Now, next question, please."


    "Does Tamar have a side in the coming war? Will she side with us against Tarasif?" asked another.


    Great, now they wanted to know how the cult was going to pick sides. "I don''t presently speak for Tamar. Next question, please."


    They finished their demonstration and were paid very, very well for their time. Together Taha and Rokas returned to the main city, counting their money. Kulat''s capital of Kulat was a small city, not comparable to Tarasif. But it was well known for having many villages around it. Each one was dedicated to a different god, so Taha avoided all of them.


    Some of the priests might have contacts in Tamara.


    "Alright, we did it!" said Taha. "I told you I could get us honest work, Rokas."


    "Maybe, but I would much prefer to put my fighting skills to work in the wars," said Rokas, examining one of his hands. He was deadly with those, but he''d never gotten used to traveling like this.


    "Not gonna happen for a while," said Taha. "And your parents have shut the door on that, haven''t they?"


    "I take your point," said Rokas sadly. "We made a huge amount with that act, Taha. We could likely make good money here."


    Taha shook her head. "No, we''re moving out today, Rokas. Pack everything."


    "Why?" asked Rokas, surprised.


    "People are starting to ask too many questions about Tamar," said Taha. "I must keep my connection with the cult front and center for the act.


    "But the way I see it, sooner or later, someone will figure out I''m not in Tamar''s good graces."


    "The Cult, you mean?" asked Rokas. "Or the Goddess?"


    "Tamar, the cult, same thing, really," said Taha, shrugging. "Anyway, sooner or later, people will figure out I don''t believe in gods."


    "Why don''t you believe in gods, anyway?" asked Rokas.


    "Because it''s ridiculous," said Taha. "The wind acts the way it does because that is how nature works. There is nothing outside of nature."


    "Well, how do you do all these things then?" asked Rokas.


    "I''ve trained to throw daggers," said Taha. "It''s a very difficult technique, and I learned it. You might as well say that you know how to punch and kick because Elranor taught you to."


    "He did do so through my trainer," said Rokas.


    "No, your trainer taught you because he knew how to fight, and your family hired him," said Taha. "He knew how to fight because he''d been trained. And the technique existed because people learned it was the best way to kill people with your bare hands."


    "My techniques are not meant for killing. They are meant for fighting," said Rokas.


    "Whatever you say," said Taha. She''d never seen the point in using a skill if you wouldn''t use it whenever possible. "I don''t believe in anything I can''t see."


    "And how do you account for miracles and magic?" asked Rokas.


    "A result of people believing they will work," said Taha as they neared the boarding house. "The ''Gods'' everyone sees are mass hallucinations. They are a result of the collective unconscious. Or an elaborate hoax.


    "Doesn''t matter to me.


    "They do not exist.


    "Anyway, it doesn''t matter what I believe. We''ve got to get out of here and fast. Tamar will be after us soon." They found their room, got their things together, and left after paying their fair. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Have they tried to kill you?" asked Rokas.


    "No, but I did walk off with all their secrets. So clearly, I must have angered them," said Taha, though a part of her said she was being ridiculous. "I doubt they''d take a humiliation like that lying down." What humiliation, said the same part. Their techniques were being advertised all over. "We''ve got to keep heading toward Tarasif."


    "Why Tarasif?" asked Rokas.


    "Nobody believes in gods there anymore. I figure it''ll be a good fit," said Taha.


    "And what will we do when we get there?" asked Rokas.


    Rokas could always be relied on to ask the right questions. "I think I could teach knife-throwing. Or maybe join the military.


    "Still, we''ve got to keep our eyes out for a proper mark."


    "Mark?" asked Rokas.


    "Well yeah," said Taha. "We don''t want to join as ordinary infantry; we''ve got to make a good impression on the right people."


    "Well, what do you have in mind?" asked Rokas.


    "I don''t know, but I''ll know it when I see it," said Taha.


    And they set off.


    Rokas was an excellent woodsman, quickly leading them across the country by many secret paths. They soon got over the border without being seen and headed over a few days through the lands of Tarasif. These places were very prosperous looking. But the number of gruesome executions was slightly disturbing. Taha had always figured that persecution would decrease if you got rid of religion.


    Instead, there was someone being executed for some crime or other at every crossroads. Taha didn''t much like the blood and screaming, while Rokas looked sick at several points. She was glad he didn''t throw up, though; it would have wasted their food. Not that they ate anything when nearing a crossroads after that point.


    At each village, they would demonstrate their skill with knives for pay. Then they would seek hospitality from villagers. Eventually, they came within sight of Tarasif, and Taha smiled. It stood upon the horizon, the walls reaching high. Many great temples rose high above their walls.


    "So, there''s Tarasif," said Taha, liking the look of it. There were sure to be real opportunities there. But opportunities for what? She''d need an in. "We''ll stay at one of the villages tonight."


    "Why?" asked Rokas.


    Taha pointed to one of the villages, smaller, with a smaller wall but nice houses. "Because that village has some very nice houses in it. Someone is staying there, and they have some pretty heavy weaponry. I''ve always wanted to get a look at Tarasifian blades."


    "So what do we do?" asked Rokas.


    Taha considered it as she walked toward it. Coming to the top of a hill, Taha considered how to get an in. She decided she was sick of wandering and wanted to get some real authority. She could make her status as an atheist obvious and toe the line, but Rokas wouldn''t like that. And anyway, atheism was in Tarasif, even if no one would admit it.


    No, the real opportunity was by siding with religion. If someone wasn''t in a favorable position, they needed all the help they could get. Getting in at the start of a new era would only take a conversion. Taha was going to be old one day, far from now, and she''d like a means of arranging retirement. Setting up a new religion or renewing an old one would be a good way of getting that. So long as she was in charge, she wouldn''t have a problem.


    Then she saw her.


    She was a radiantly beautiful girl with long brown hair. She was very slim, wore the clothes of a warrior, and trained in a field. On her brown was the symbol of a bird taking flight, the symbol of Jaha. The sworn enemy of Tamar.


    "Hmm, that girl down there is pretty cute, isn''t she?" mused Taha, calculating her chances.


    Luck was entirely in your control, contrary to what most thought.


    Luck was simply being prepared to take opportunities when they came up. Everyone got opportunities, and the more you took, the more you got.


    "That is a man, Tara," said Rokas. "And they crucify people for that kind of thing in Tarasif."Wait, it was a guy? From a distance, she''d thought it was a she. Come to think of it, his frame was masculine, and he had the muscles. Still, a very handsome guy, so it made no difference to her.


    "Oh, really?


    "Doesn''t matter. Luck is with us."


    "I thought you didn''t believe in luck," said Rokas. "Or destiny or anything."


    "Luck is a skill," said Taha. "Anyone can be lucky. You just need to be aware of what you have and be ready to take opportunities when they show up. Take the right chances, and you''ll get more options like them.


    "That''s the secret to achieving greatness.


    "People who are nobodies are nobodies because they choose to be that. They don''t have the guts to be exceptional. Let''s go talk with our friend down there."


    "Taha, didn''t you hear what I said? In Tarasif, they crucify homosexuals. We have to be careful," said Rokas. "I was lucky just to get thrown out of my home in Kulat."


    "Will you relax," said Taha. "Nobody cares about the law. It''s just the way rich people keep poor people from murdering them for their stuff. So as long as you are with rich people, you can do whatever you want. Rape, murder, theft all go away when you have power. There''s no such thing as sin for a powerful man.


    "Trust me; if we play our cards right, you can lead whatever lifestyle you want."


    "I don''t want to lead whatever lifestyle I want. I want to lead a good lifestyle," said Rokas.


    "Then you can lead that instead," said Taha with a shrug. "Now come on, he''s not at home here, or he wouldn''t be alone. His clothes are good, so he''s rich, and he''s wearing a sword, so he is a warrior. Still trying to figure out why he''s bearing the symbol of Jaha, though.


    "Let''s see if he works as a mark.


    "I''ll go down there alone; you stick around here. Best not to overwhelm him."


    "I concur," said Rokas. "You are overwhelming enough by yourself. Still...


    "Taha, that symbol on his head is only ever born by one person. The Avatar of Jaha."


    "Isn''t that usually a girl, though?" asked Taha.


    "It is always a girl," said Roka. "There has never been a male one."


    "Eh, well, that''s something I can start a conversation with then," said Taha.


    Then she made her way down, drawing up a knife and peering at her reflection. It was one of the Tamar sets she''d gotten for making it as a priestess. The magic in it made it so she could see her reflection, provided she maintained it, which she did, of course.


    Drawing out a comb, Taha straightened out her features. She wished she weren''t so ordinary-looking. She was pretty in a down-to-earth way, and she hated it. Taha had always wanted to be stunning. To turn heads wherever she walked. But the gods didn''t bless peasants with that appearance because they didn''t exist.


    Taha hated them all the same, for the most part.


    Finishing her preparations, she crept up behind him. He was doing very elaborate move sets with his sword. "Excuse me, are you the Avatar of Jaha?"


    The boy, though he was about Taha''s age, whirled around with a start. He halted as he saw her and quickly noticed the knives at her belt. He lowered the blade but glanced around and noted Rokas. His guard was not dropped.


    Smart.


    "How did you know?" asked the boy.


    "Well, you''ve got this sort of strange look about you. And, well, I almost thought you were here when we first ran into each other," said Taha.


    "I assure you, I am not Jaha," said the boy, sounding faintly offended. "Merely her Avatar."


    Taha nodded. The practice of Avatars happened a little under a century ago, right? It was after the Incarnation of the Land was shot dead. All the gods had wanted one to act on their behalf. Although some stories argued Jaha had avatars before them. "Right, so uh, what brings you out here?"


    "I could just as easily ask you the same question," noted the boy.


    "I''m a performer looking for a change of careers," admitted Taha. "My name is Taha, no last name. I''m from a land far to the east of Kulat."


    The boy paused and seemed to look her up and down. "I see.


    "And where is your companion from?"


    Taha pretended to be surprised. She didn''t want him to think she was too competent. "Oh, um... my companions, right! Uh..."


    "I am quite keen of eye," said the boy.


    Somewhat arrogant, she could use that. But for now, she focused on looking slightly comical. It''s something you couldn''t do when stunning and brave. "Right, well, Rokas is from a noble family. Because of some... unfortunate misunderstandings, we ended up traveling together."


    "And you are the leader?" guessed Nendas. There was an incredulous note in his voice.


    Taha was actually flattered he''d considered the possibility. But that didn''t make it a good thing. "I''d prefer to think of it as a partnership. Rokas, he knows you''re there."


    Rokas came down to meet them. "I might have expected as much. Stealth and deception are of no use against the gods."


    "I am not Jaha," said Nendas. "Is there something you want from me?"


    "Actually, we were hoping we could be part of your entourage," admitted Taha.


    "To what end?" asked Nendas.


    "Well, you seem to be in need of one," said Taha. "And we are in need of an employer. Working with an Avatar of Jaha would also give us certain protections."


    "My situation is different," said Nendas simply. "I will be going into war, sooner or later."


    "With Kulat?" asked Taha. "Well, that works out perfectly. We''ve spent some months in Kulat. Rokas has explored much of the wilds, and we know the secret ways."


    "What makes you think we''re going to war with Kulat?" asked Nendas, more sharply than he ought to have. He was kind of out of touch with ordinary people, wasn''t he?


    "Well, everyone in Kulat seems convinced there is a war coming," said Taha. "The general opinion is that Tarasif is going to launch an invasion eventually. In fact, that''s part of the reason why we left.


    "When one has a controversial opinion, it''s usually not a good idea to be in a country at war. You usually get used as scapegoats. Ordinary people hate taking responsibility for their own screwups. It''s easier to just point at someone who can''t fight back and blame them."


    "And what controversial opinion did you have?" asked Nendas.


    Taha considered the best possible answer. And it was the truth without implication Rokas. "...Let''s just say that I don''t have the same faith in the gods that other people do."


    "She''s a sound atheist," said Rokas.


    "Rokas!" said Taha, turning to him incredulously. "We aren''t supposed to be making that public knowledge!" The comical effect was important, though, and this helped.


    "Atheism?" asked Nendas. "I was aware that such a belief system is theoretically possible. I didn''t think anyone held it."


    "Eh, atheism is more of a lack of a belief system in the face of insufficient evidence," said Taha. "All of the cults I''ve gone through are pretty weak." However, a part of her mind seemed offended. She''d learned a lot from Tamar.


    "I am the literally Avatar of a God," said Nendas. "You are standing right in front of me."


    "Yeah, and since you believe it, and everyone else believes it, it would hardly matter if you weren''t, would it?" asked Taha.


    "You said yourself said you mistook me for Jaha," said Nendas, voice incredulous.


    "Technically, I mistook you for a girl, and Rokas pointed out the brand on your head," said Taha. "Ironically, that was after I realized my error.


    "We... um... kind of figured it would be more flattering to mistake you for a deity than a girl."


    "So you lied to me," said Nendas.


    "I didn''t lie," said Taha. "I embellished the truth to make it seem more palpable."


    Nendas stared at her. "Do you know what a lie is, Taha?"


    "Yes," said Taha. "Of course, I know what a lie is." She tried to look like she''d been caught in the act. It helped with the comical, everygirl appearance.


    "I don''t think you do," said Rokas.


    Time to prove her worth. "A lie is a statement that corrupts the truth. It misrepresented reality in a way that harms the interests of the person you are speaking to. Not all deception is a lie.


    "A parent tells their child that monsters will get them if they misbehave. But they don''t mean it literally. It is a story that does not fit neatly into reality but imparts certain essential truths. It is a metaphor. Usually for the inherent character flaws that come with perceived misdeeds."


    Nendas eyed her for a moment. "So, you lied to me, then.


    "And by your definition, you have lied to me again to cover for your previous misdeeds.


    "What do you want? Money? Some position of influence?


    "Answer that honestly, and I''ll consider it."


    He was good. But he was also in desperate need of subordinates, as Taha had counted on. This was why you never joined the side everyone thought would win. Not if it was possible to turn things around. Opportunities came from hardship, and stronger powers did not endure hardship. How to answer?


    "...To tag along with you until a better opportunity comes up, honestly," said Taha, looking down at her feet sadly. "We don''t know this place very well."


    Nendas nodded. "Very well, you may do so, so long as you do not misuse that position. Your actions will reflect on me. If you disgrace the name of Jaha, your throat will be cut, and I will watch your body fall like a felled tree to the cold earth. And that is no metaphor."*


    That was... unexpectedly brutal. Taha kind of liked it, and it was a perfectly reasonable threat to make. Fear was an important part of the motivation.


    However, at that moment, a young girl rushed up from behind. "Jaha..."


    "Yes, what is it, child?" asked Nendas, sheathing his sword.


    "My mother is sick. Could you help her?" asked the child.


    "Of course, I will help her," said Nendas, and his tone was... different, like he was a different person. "Lead the way, and I shall use my power to aid her.


    "Both of you follow me and watch."


    And he walked back with the girl to the house. There Taha saw the light emanate as he laid his hands on an ill woman and healed her. One of these days, the usual miraculous sleight of hand, she really had to figure out how they did that. It seemed like a good trick to know, especially since the pain instantly cleared up.


    "By the grace of peace, let the chaos in your body be stilled. Let harmony be returned," said Nendas. "Now, child, she will live. But you must repay this kindness to others. Lead me to any others who might need such help."


    "Yes, of course, Queen Jaha," said the girl.


    However, Nendas ended up getting dragged into a whole set of other engagements. He was soon healing people left and right and looked almost all-loving.


    "...That''s not acting, is it?" mused Taha, noticing his composure change.


    "I do not believe so. He seems almost two people," said Rokas.


    Either way, this was an interesting situation that could get them all killed. Taha watched it happen and saw Nendas standing alone. He seemed to be in another place entirely, and Taha moved toward him.


    "...Are you alright?" asked Taha.


    "My name is Nendas," said Nendas quickly. "Now, I have work to do."


    And then the healing began.


    *I have no explanation I can prove for this particular turn of phrase. Tanith translated all of this before she ever went to Gel Carn. Thus it is impossible that she referred to her encounter with Gail Arengeth. Even if she had, I see no reason why she would bring it up in this context.


    Reincarnation or divine influence, perhaps? Nendas eventually finished his work while Taha and Rokas watched.


    They seemed intent on following behind him, which he needed clarification on. Why would they just appear out of nowhere and want to join him? He suspected Taha wanted something out of all this. But it might have just been that she wanted what she said she wanted. She was beautiful in a tomboyish way, but that did not influence the matter.


    The threat of death hadn''t scared them off, though. Making it had messed with his head, and he had a headache still. Using Jaha''s healing powers helped a bit, but he felt it wasn''t him using them.


    So, Nendas reluctantly decided he had to seek blessing from King Samrasa. So he went before them. "Now, I will introduce you to Ralign, King Samrasa''s Captain of the Guard. If he allows you to accompany us, you may. Otherwise...


    "Well, I suppose you could tail me miles behind."


    Nendas would benefit from having someone to assist him.


    "That seems the only other option, Nendas," mused Rokas.


    Rokas was speaking to him as an equal? Nendas felt a sense of offense at that. "That is..." However, Jaha reminded him that he was not a noble anymore. "Nevermind, I''m not technically part of the Hasafa Clan right now anyway."


    "Why not?" asked Taha.


    "The Avatar of Jaha belongs only to Jaha, just as the Hasafa Clan does," said Nendas. "One cannot have any other allegiance." Who were they to speak so freely? Rokas looked like he might be a noble of some sort. He had the facial features and build of one who eats well growing. But what would he be out here?


    "Then why are you traveling with King Samrasa?" asked Taha.


    Nendas swallowed his pride. "My allegiance to Jaha obligates me to serve King Samrasa. I am her chosen servant by divine right. And to Hasafa. I serve them loyally because I do so in Jaha''s will."


    "Couldn''t you admit you became the Avatar for the perks?" asked Taha.


    The question was one that Nendas found infuriating, but he remembered that he was the Avatar of a God. He must speak to everyone as an equal. Jaha would not want him to be unpleasant with others. "I became the Avatar because people asked me to. And you''d do well not to speak out of turn while meeting with Ralign. I am already disliked and don''t need to be hated."


    "Don''t worry, we know when to keep our mouths shut," said Taha.


    At that moment, Ralign showed up. He came up to them, looking furious. "Nendas, what have you been doing?


    "The villagers are talking about you performing miracles! What kind of trickery is this!"


    Trickery? Was he accusing the Goddess Jaha of trickery? Nendas had done as she ordained. "...I am the Avatar of Jaha. It is my purpose to do what she tells me to do."


    "So you decided to start miracle-working without my permission?" asked Ralign.


    "I was not aware you wished the people housing us ill, Ralign," said Nendas. "Is not Jaha the patron deity of King Samrasa?" Technically anyway, that had been a condition for the alliance.


    "Yes," said Ralign.


    "And isn''t it better if people believe in her?" asked Nendas, who was not willing to renounce his faith for his own life.


    "You know damn well the truth, so I see no reason to tell it to you again!" said Ralign.


    Nendas guessed that Ralign hated Jaha and wanted to see her religion fail. He didn''t care that Nendas had healed those people because he helped a religion by healing them. Ralign would have rather all die horribly than let a priest appear good.


    So Nendas decided to bait him. "...I must admit to ignorance. What is this truth you are talking about? And why do you presume to be able to counteract an order from Jaha herself directly?"


    Ralign stiffened, and several of his men murmured. "One of these days, Nendas, you''ll go too far. When you''re screwing while crucified, I''ll be somewhere smiling."


    "I do not understand what I have done to wrong you," said Nendas, keeping his face stoic. "Did not King Samrasa request I accompany you?"


    "For reasons beyond my comprehension, yes," said Ralign.


    "And doesn''t King Samrasa know full well what the Avatar of Jaha does?" asked Nendas.


    "Of course!" said Ralign.


    "And did he instruct me that I was not to heal sick and injured people?" asked Nendas.


    "He did not," said Ralign, setting a hand to his sword.


    Nendas mirrored the motion but did not take hold of his sword. He thought that this was going to get bloody soon. Nendas decided it would be best to spare Ralign after defeating him. Although Jaha reminded him that defeating him would be difficult. "Then I do not see what grave crime I have committed to make you hate me so?"


    "Worthless brat!" said Ralign, drawing his sword.


    His sword was out, and Nendas stepped away from the blade as it fell. It passed within inches of him, but Nendas probably made it look easy. With another strike, he moved out of the way, dodging and weaving without drawing a blade. Ralign was good, his stance was excellent, and he was getting many near hits.


    Even so, Nendas probably looked stronger by not having his sword drawn.


    Finally, a soldier ran forward. "Please, stop this. No killing!"


    "Do no harm to the Avatar of Jaha!" said a man.


    "I agree," said Nendas, halting. "This fight has no meaning."


    "Enough," said a voice.


    Nendas looked up to see King Samrasa approaching them. "Ralign, Nendas, you do our hosts a disservice. Nendas, a word."


    Nendas walked with Samrasa to one side. As he did, he examined Samrasa''s movements to see if he might run him through. Samrasa was wearing a sword, after all. However, Samrasa halted and talked. "I presume this was about miracles?"


    "As far as I can gather, King Samrasa, yes," said Nendas.


    Samrasa paused. "Very well. I should have foreseen this.


    "Suffice it to say that Ralign and his associates are hostile to religion of all kinds. They have had several bad experiences with the worst aspects of religion. I expect you to tolerate them."


    "As you wish," said Nendas, meaning that Ralign was allowed to run roughshod over the faithful. Any objection would make a stir and therefore was bad.


    "Now, regarding miracles, I know you mean well," said Samrasa. "And you have not done anything wrong, so much as... unfortunate. We are at a critical stage in the development of Tarasif. We hope to remove some of the problematic religions.


    "If Jaha starts performing miracles, other cults will do the same. It will reinvigorate support for the worst aspects of religion."


    "You wish me not to perform any further miracles on behalf of Jaha?" asked Nendas, allowing himself to look disappointed. He must appear the picture of youthful recklessness, desiring to please him.


    "I ask you to appeal to convince her that the timing would be most unfortunate," said Samrasa. "And I must insist."


    Nendas bowed. "...As you wish, my King. I will do as you ask."


    "Now, who are these you''ve brought with you?" asked Samrasa, taking him toward Taha and Rokas. Taha was scrutinizing things.


    "Two individuals who wish to join my entourage," said Nendas. "I have no idea why, but I don''t want to humor them. I wished to get your permission." Technically, he did not need to ask; he had to appear subservient.


    "Do as you like, of course," said Samrasa. "But remember that you are responsible for them. Any wrongdoing on their part will reflect on you."


    Nendas nodded. "I understand."


    And he ended up left alone with Taha and Rokas. And Nendas was very glad for their company. Some of the looks the soldiers were giving him were downright murderous.


    "...Wow, so he''s about to do a purge, huh?" asked Taha.


    "You don''t know that," said Rokas.


    "What do you mean by that?" asked Nendas, letting surprise into his tone.


    "Well, it''s just... I think King Samrasa is about to kill many people," said Taha.


    "Why would you think that?" asked Nendas.


    "Well, that''s why he doesn''t want you doing miracles," said Taha. "He''s about to tear down some temples or something. Whatever it is, it''ll offend religious people. So he wants religious people to look as bad as possible.


    "So, he intends to tear down any good works you perform."


    "Taha is it wise to say this-" began Rokas.


    "Let her speak, Rokas," said Nendas. "I need people that speak their minds. Not people who mindlessly obey." Taha shared many of the beliefs of his enemies and would be valuable for that purpose.


    "Good, because I don''t mindlessly obey anyone," said Taha. "But I was mostly done."


    "...Can either of you fight?" asked Nendas.


    "Yes, very well," said Taha. "One of the rites of passage in my old cult involved killing by stealth. And another involved just killing." How did she not have any scars?


    "Rokas, you are from Kulat, yes?" asked Nendas.


    "I am," said Rokas.


    Nendas nodded, seeing an opportunity. "Very well. Tell me everything you know of the place, and then prepare to tell King Samrasa. The understanding of an educated and well-traveled noble could be invaluable.


    "And we must be valuable if we are to survive."


    "Sounds good to me," said Taha. "This is way more interesting than throwing knives for fun. So let''s go for it."


    That was why this commoner had chosen Nendas as a mark. She''d known he was in no position to refuse and that she could speak as an equal.


    Still, Tarasif awaited.


    On the King''s company went, drawing nearer to the other villages. As they walked, however, Ralign motioned to the village. Several black-robed monks were walking to heal them. Their heads were unshaven, marking them as belonging to the sect of Elranor. Most religions expected men to shave their heads and beards.


    "Look there, the worshippers of Elranor," said a man.


    "Why are these religious folk out in such numbers?" asked Ralign. "There must be a reason for it.


    "Shall I-"


    "No, Ralign, you shall not," said Samrasa. "We''ll speak directly to them and see how they account for their actions."


    At that moment, a baldheaded monk approached, though he had a long beard. Samrasa moved forward and nodded to him. "High Priest Surras, what are you doing here?"


    "I saw your party approaching, King Samrasa," said Surras. "I thought it best to explain to you why your order was disobeyed personally."


    "Very well then, what happened?" asked Samrasa.


    "We detected several diseases growing within the populace," said Surras. "It began to spread through several villages at an alarming rate. If left unchecked, it would have spread to the city, and many would have died. Such a thing could have compromised Tarasif to our enemies.


    "So, the temples united in healing all we could. We are nearly in control of the situation."


    "As good an explanation as can be made. I will pardon the defiance," said Samrasa, nodding.


    Surras departed, and Samrasa looked to the men. Uneasy murmurs came from them. They did not understand why Samrasa was tolerating this.


    "See now the serpent in the grass," said Samrasa. "The God of Healing is indeed benevolent to heal us of disease. Especially given who his chief ally is."


    "His chief ally is Laevian," said Nendas to Rokas and Taha. They might not have known.


    "I know; we both studied," said Taha.


    Nendas was surprised by this. "How? I took you to be of common blood?"


    "I educated myself," said Taha.


    Nendas had always been taught that to learn; one must have a master. "How is such a thing possible?"


    "Just find teachers and get them to teach you," said Taha. "When they have nothing else to teach you, throw them away and find another. Rinse and repeat. I''ve had more mentors than I can count."


    "Don''t you have any loyalty to your masters?" asked Nendas, amazed at her flippant dismissal.


    "I wouldn''t know," said Taha. "I haven''t had a master before you. I''ve got an obligation to you, but I don''t know if I''m loyal. If I am, I''ll stay loyal; if I''m not, I''ll betray you. You can''t know anything about yourself except when looking back."


    And so they walked.


    Nendas found himself intrigued and horrified in equal parts by Taha. "How did you end up here anyway?" he asked.


    "Long story," said Taha. "But the short version is that I was raised in a place with a sky and trees. That and a lot of thugs with delusions of grandeur. Everyone had their place, and society would only be good if everyone knew their place. I was the daughter of a farmer whose family had become quite rich. Over generations of hard work, they''d amassed quite a fortune.


    "Meanwhile, there was a family of greater rank than mine. Except, the one in charge of it had squandered a lot of his money fighting wars. So they were actually a good deal poorer than me.


    "So, I was going to be married off.


    "So I ran off."


    Nendas stared at her incredulously. "You were going to be married to a Lord? And you decided you wanted to marry for love?"


    Taha laughed at that far louder than she ought to. "Nothing of the sort.


    "I don''t care about love or enlightenment or the power of friendship. But I learned a valuable lesson from my parents; This entire social order is nonsense. It''s just a lie agreed upon, so people who are in can rob and steal while killing people who are out.


    "That way, they don''t run out of things to steal.


    "People with the guts to do it take whatever they can and give nothing back."


    That was... considerably more selfish than Nendas had been expected. He briefly wondered if he should part company with her. But he considered that being alone with only Ralign for the company would be worse. "So you abandoned your family?"


    "Why not?" asked Taha. "I had a dozen sisters who could marry in my place. And if I had married the Lord, I''d have been a curiosity. A trophy of sorts. I''d have children and maybe come to love my husband and have grandchildren. And then I''d be forgotten.


    "I could live a ''good'' life, but I''d have no power. I wouldn''t exist."


    "I take it this is why you decided to approach an Avatar of Jaha," mused Nendas.


    "Well, you are dedicated to alternate perspectives, aren''t you?" asked Taha. "The way of Jaha is that all beliefs are but elements of a greater whole. All ideologies and desires ultimately comprise the same, greater and final peace."


    "Provided they know their place, yes," said Nendas.


    Taha laughed hysterically at that line again. Rokas somewhat joined in, but Nendas did not allow himself to. They got several looks from the other men.


    "That''s good. Very good," said Taha. "But I knew my place. I just didn''t want it. I was educated by my parents, like all my sisters. I learned everything I could. When I exhausted one source of knowledge, I looked for more. I learned all kinds of things about farming. And I began to see things that could be improved.


    "When people wouldn''t listen to what I had to say, I found ways to convince them to make them think it was their idea.


    "I knew my place, Nendas. I became my place.


    "And I decided that wasn''t who I wanted to be. So I let my younger sister marry the Lord and became something else."


    Nendas considered how to react. Perhaps to ask about who her family had been. She had to have some remaining loyalty to them. "Who was she? This sister of yours."


    "I don''t know," said Taha. "I''ve forgotten them all. Why should I treat it any better if the world doesn''t want me to be more than a face in the crowd? My Mother, Father, siblings, and town... they''re just backstories.


    "None of them matter anymore."


    "And what do you want? Why are you doing all of this?" asked Nendas.


    Taha looked up at the vast gates of Tarasif as they rose up before her. "I want to grow in power and prestige to a level beyond comprehension. If there are no gods, then I want to become one. I know I''ll never get there, of course, but I want to get as far as I can for myself."


    "And what will you do when you''ve gotten as far as you possibly can?" asked Nendas.


    "Well, after I''ve made my ladder and gotten to the top?" asked Taha. "I guess I''ll pull the ladder up after me."


    "Would it not be better to let others climb up after you?" asked Rokas.


    "Of course not! I had to work hard to get everything I am!" said Taha. "What I am was built from nothing. Why should the simpering and ignorant masses get an easy way to success? My success is because of my own efforts. People should have to work for what they get.


    "If people follow me up the ladder, they''ll just wreck the place.


    "They are peasants, after all."


    Nendas stared at her. "Aren''t you?"


    "Being a peasant has nothing to do with rank. It''s all in the mindset," said Taha. "Don''t try to define me as a noble or a merchant or an artisan. None of them apply.


    "Taha is."


    "Taha is a very sick person," noted Nendas with a laugh, finding her too outrageous to even feel angry.


    "By all means, try to cure me, Nendas," said Taha, drawing pleasantly near momentarily. "Or send me away." And she stepped further away. "Rokas and I can find somebody else to work for. No skin off my nose."


    "I''m not certain that is possible," said Nendas. "But your insight might be valuable."


    Soon they neared the gates and walked through them. A great crowd came out to greet the King, who waved to the people as he did. Nendas walked a little ahead but listened to Taha and Nendas'' conversation.


    "Are you sure about this, Taha?" asked Rokas.


    "More than ever," said Taha. "This is going to be good. Risky, but good." As they passed into the city, Nendas looked at the buildings and people. Most buildings were in good repair, and the streets were remarkably clean. Many people were very interested in seeing Samrasa pass by. Nendas noted alms being given out to the poor.


    "Wow, Tarasif is very nice, isn''t it," said Taha. "Huge buildings, never seen anything bigger. However, Kulat had a few that compare.


    "Have you been here before, Nendas?"


    Why did she insist on speaking to him so casually? Because she lost nothing by him sending her away. And Nendas gained very little. He was going to have to find a way to instill some obedience in her. "No, but my Father should be here. Once I arrive, I will meet with him..." His gaze turned to a hill overlooking the city, and on it was a horrible sight. "More crucifixions.


    "Why does King Samrasa persist in these?"


    "Eh, it''s nasty and good for making a statement, I guess," said Taha. "Maybe he worships Baltoth in secret."


    "Baltoth?" asked Nendas.


    "Yeah, Baltoth is really big on order," said Taha. "His whole thing is order above all else, and he runs his pantheon. The sort of person King Samrasa might follow.


    "So, Ralign has been giving you nothing but dark looks since we started."


    "What of it?" asked Nendas, noticing one now.


    "I think he might try to have you killed," said Taha. "He seems to hate your guts; I don''t think you''re all that convenient for the King Samrasa, and even if you are...


    "He''s reckless."


    "What are you suggesting?" asked Nendas.


    "Don''t do any more miracles; avoid Ralign like the plague and watch your back," said Taha. "Also, stay in a different building than Samrasa. Set yourself up somewhere else.


    "It''ll make it harder for you to get arrested."


    "You have experience with this?" guessed Nendas.


    "Oh yeah, I watched a lot of stuff like this go down when I was in the service of Tamar," said Taha. "The royalty in were always killing each other off. You think I learned knife-throwing for fun?"


    "I''ll keep it in mind," said Nendas.


    He really needed to meet with Father. And also spoke with Jaha.


    At least Taha was easier company on the eyes than Ralign.

 Chapter Five: Introductions

    Nendas eventually finished his work while Taha and Rokas watched.


    They seemed intent on following behind him, which he was unsure of. Why would they just appear out of nowhere and want to join him? He suspected Taha wanted something out of all this. But it might have just been that she wanted what she said she wanted. She was beautiful in a tomboyish way, but that was no influence on the matter.


    The threat of death hadn''t scared them off, though. Making it had messed with his head, and he had a headache still. Using Jaha''s healing powers helped a bit, but he felt it wasn''t him using them.


    So, Nendas reluctantly decided he had to seek blessing from King Samrasa. So he went before them. "Now, I will introduce you to Ralign, King Samrasa''s Captain of the Guard. If he allows you to accompany us, you may. Otherwise...


    "Well, I suppose you could tail me miles behind."


    Nendas would actually benefit from having someone to assist him.


    "That seems the only other option, Nendas," mused Rokas.


    Rokas was speaking to him as an equal? Nendas felt a sense of offense at that. "That is..." However, Jaha reminded him that he was not a noble anymore. "Nevermind, I''m not technically part of the Hasafa Clan right now anyway."


    "Why not?" asked Taha.


    "The Avatar of Jaha belongs only to Jaha, just as the Hasafa Clan does," said Nendas. "One cannot have any other allegiance." Who were they to speak so freely? Rokas looked like he might be a noble of some sort. He had the facial features and build of one who eats well growing. But what would he be out here?


    "Then why are you traveling with King Samrasa?" asked Taha.


    Nendas swallowed his pride. "My allegiance to Jaha obligates me to serve King Samrasa. I am her chosen servant by divine right. And to Hasafa. I serve them loyally because it is Jaha''s will that I do so."


    "Couldn''t you admit you became the Avatar for the perks?" asked Taha.


    The question was one that Nendas found infuriating, but he remembered that he was the Avatar of a God. He must speak to everyone as an equal. Jaha would not want him to be unpleasant with others. "I became the Avatar because people asked me to. And you''d do well not to speak out of turn while meeting with Ralign. I am already disliked and don''t need to be hated."


    "Don''t worry, we know when to keep our mouths shut," said Taha.


    At that moment, Ralign showed up. He came up to them, looking furious. "Nendas, what have you been doing?


    "The villagers are talking about you performing miracles! What kind of trickery is this!"


    Trickery? Was he accusing the Goddess Jaha of trickery? Nendas had done as she ordained. "...I am the Avatar of Jaha. It is my purpose to do what she tells me to do."


    "So you decided to start miracle-working without my permission?" asked Ralign.


    "I was not aware you wished the people housing us ill, Ralign," said Nendas. "Is not Jaha the patron deity of King Samrasa?" Technically anyway, that had been a condition for the alliance.


    "Yes," said Ralign.


    "And isn''t it better if people believe in her?" asked Nendas, who was not willing to renounce his faith for his own life.


    "You know damn well the truth, so I see no reason to tell it to you again!" said Ralign.


    Nendas guessed that Ralign hated Jaha and wanted to see her religion fail. He didn''t care that Nendas had healed those people because he helped a religion by healing them. Ralign would have rather all die horribly than let a priest appear good.


    So Nendas decided to bait him. "...I must admit to ignorance. What is this truth you are talking about? And why do you presume to be able to counteract an order from Jaha herself directly?"


    Ralign stiffened, and several of his men murmured. "One of these days, Nendas, you''ll go too far. When you''re screwing while crucified, I''ll be somewhere smiling."


    "I do not understand what I have done to wrong you," said Nendas, keeping his face stoic. "Did not King Samrasa request I accompany you?"


    "For reasons beyond my comprehension, yes," said Ralign.


    "And doesn''t King Samrasa know full well what the Avatar of Jaha does?" asked Nendas.


    "Of course!" said Ralign.


    "And did he give me instructions that I was not to heal sick and injured people?" asked Nendas.


    "He did not," said Ralign, setting a hand to his sword.


    Nendas mirrored the motion but did not take hold of his sword. He thought that this was going to get bloody soon. Nendas decided it would be best to spare Ralign after defeating him. Although Jaha reminded him that defeating him would be difficult. "Then I do not see what grave crime I have committed to make you hate me so?"


    "Worthless brat!" said Ralign, drawing his sword.


    His sword was out, and Nendas stepped away from the blade as it fell. It passed within inches of him, but Nendas probably made it look easy. Another strike, he moved out of the way, dodging and weaving without drawing a blade. Ralign was good, his stance was excellent, and he was getting many near hits.


    Even so, Nendas probably looked stronger by not having his sword drawn.


    Finally, a soldier ran forward. "Please, stop this. No killing!"


    "Do no harm to the Avatar of Jaha!" said a man.


    "I agree," said Nendas, halting. "This fight has no meaning."


    "Enough," said a voice.


    Nendas looked up to see King Samrasa approaching them. "Ralign, Nendas, you do our hosts a disservice. Nendas, a word."


    Nendas walked with Samrasa to one side. As he did, he examined Samrasa''s movements to see if he might run him through. Samrasa was wearing a sword, after all. However, Samrasa halted and simply talked. "I presume this was about miracles?"


    "As far as I can gather, King Samrasa, yes," said Nendas.


    Samrasa paused. "Very well. I suppose I should have foreseen this.


    "Suffice it to say that Ralign and his associates are hostile to religion of all kind. They have had several bad experiences with the worst aspects of religion. I expect you to tolerate them."


    "As you wish," said Nendas, meaning that Ralign was allowed to run roughshod over the faithful. Any objection would make a stir and therefore was bad.


    "Now, regarding miracles, I know you mean well," said Samrasa. "And you have not done anything wrong, so much as... unfortunate. We are at a critical stage in the development of Tarasif. Our hope is to remove some of the problematic religions.


    "If Jaha starts performing miracles, other cults will do the same. It will reinvigorate support for the worst aspects of religion."


    "You wish me not to perform any further miracles on behalf of Jaha?" asked Nendas, allowing himself to look disappointed. He must appear the picture of youthful recklessness, desiring to please him.


    "I ask you to appeal to convince her that the timing would be most unfortunate," said Samrasa. "And I must insist."


    Nendas bowed. "...As you wish, my King. I will do as you ask."


    "Now, who are these you''ve brought with you?" asked Samrasa, taking him toward Taha and Rokas. Taha was examining things very carefully.


    "Two individuals who wish to join my entourage," said Nendas. "I have no idea why, but I don''t want to humor them. I wished to get your permission." Though technically, he did not need to ask; he had to appear subservient.


    "Do as you like, of course," said Samrasa. "But remember that you are responsible for them. Any wrongdoing on their part will reflect on you."


    Nendas nodded. "I understand."


    And he ended up left alone with Taha and Rokas. And Nendas was very glad for their company. Some of the looks the soldiers were giving him were downright murderous.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "...Wow, so he''s about to do a purge, huh?" asked Taha.


    "You don''t know that," said Rokas.


    "What do you mean by that?" asked Nendas, letting surprise into his tone.


    "Well, it''s just... I think King Samrasa is about to kill a lot of people," said Taha.


    "Why would you think that?" asked Nendas.


    "Well, that''s why he doesn''t want you doing miracles," said Taha. "He''s about to tear down some temples or something. Whatever it is, it''ll offend religious people. So he wants religious people to look as bad as possible.


    "So, he intends to tear down any good works you perform."


    "Taha is it wise to say this-" began Rokas.


    "Let her speak, Rokas," said Nendas. "I need people that speak their minds. Not people who mindlessly obey." Taha seemed to share many of the beliefs of his enemies and would be valuable for that purpose.


    "Good, because I don''t mindlessly obey anyone," said Taha. "But I was mostly done."


    "...Can either of you fight?" asked Nendas.


    "Yes, very well," said Taha. "One of the rites of passage in my old cult involved killing by stealth. And another involved just killing." How did she not have any scars?


    "Rokas, you are from Kulat, yes?" asked Nendas.


    "I am," said Rokas.


    Nendas nodded, seeing an opportunity. "Very well. Tell me everything you know of the place, and then prepare to tell King Samrasa. The understanding of an educated and well-traveled noble could be invaluable.


    "And we must be valuable if we are to survive."


    "Sounds good to me," said Taha. "This is way more interesting than throwing knives for fun. So let''s go for it."


    That was why this commoner had chosen Nendas as a mark. She''d known he was in no position to refuse and that she could speak as an equal.


    Still, Tarasif awaited.


    On the King''s company went, drawing nearer to the other villages. As they walked, however, Ralign motioned to the village. A number of black-robed monks were walking to heal them. Their heads were unshaven, marking them as belonging to the sect of Elranor. Most religions expected men to shave their heads and beards.


    "Look there, the worshippers of Elranor," said a man.


    "Why are these religious folk out in such numbers?" asked Ralign. "There must be a reason for it.


    "Shall I-"


    "No, Ralign, you shall not," said Samrasa. "We''ll speak directly to them and see how they account for their actions."


    At that moment, a baldheaded monk approached, though he had a long beard. Samrasa moved forward and nodded to him. "High Priest Surras, what are you doing here?"


    "I saw your party approaching, King Samrasa," said Surras. "I thought it best to personally explain to you why your order was disobeyed."


    "Very well then, what happened?" asked Samrasa.


    "We detected several diseases growing within the populace," said Surras. "It began to spread through several villages at an alarming rate. If left unchecked, it would have spread to the city, and many would have died. Such a thing could have compromised Tarasif to our enemies.


    "So, the temples united in healing all we could. We are nearly in control of the situation."


    "As good an explanation as can be made. I will pardon the defiance," said Samrasa, nodding.


    Surras departed, and Samrasa looked to the men. Uneasy murmurs came from them. They did not understand why Samrasa was tolerating this.


    "See now the serpent in the grass," said Samrasa. "The God of Healing is indeed benevolent to heal us of disease. Especially given who his chief ally is."


    "His chief ally is Laevian," said Nendas to Rokas and Taha. They might not have known.


    "I know; we both studied," said Taha.


    Nendas was surprised by this. "How? I took you to be of common blood?"


    "I educated myself," said Taha.


    Nendas had always been taught that to learn; one must have a master. "How is such a thing possible?"


    "Just find teachers and get them to teach you," said Taha. "When they have nothing else to teach you, throw them away and find another. Rinse and repeat. I''ve had more mentors than I can count."


    "Don''t you have any loyalty to your masters?" asked Nendas, amazed at her flippant dismissal.


    "I wouldn''t know," said Taha. "I haven''t had a master before you. I''ve got an obligation to you, but I don''t know if I''m loyal. If I am, I''ll stay loyal; if I''m not, I''ll betray you. You can''t know anything about yourself except when looking back." S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And so they walked.


    Nendas found himself intrigued and horrified in equal parts by Taha. "How did you end up here anyway?" he asked.


    "Long story," said Taha. "But the short version is that I was raised in a place with a sky and trees. That and a lot of thugs with delusions of grandeur. Everyone had their place, and society would only be good if everyone knew their place. I was the daughter of a farmer whose family had become quite rich. Over generations of hard work, they''d amassed quite a fortune.


    "Meanwhile, well, there was a family of greater rank than mine. Except, the one in charge of it had squandered a lot of his money fighting wars. So they were actually a good deal poorer than me.


    "So, I was going to be married off.


    "So I ran off."


    Nendas stared at her incredulously. "You were going to be married to a Lord? And you decided you wanted to marry for love?"


    Taha laughed at that far louder than she ought to. "Nothing of the sort.


    "I don''t care about love or enlightenment or the power of friendship. But I learned a valuable lesson from my parents; This entire social order is nonsense. It''s just a lie agreed upon, so people who are in can rob and steal while killing people who are out.


    "That way, they don''t run out of things to steal.


    "People with the guts to do it take whatever they can and give nothing back."


    That was... considerably more selfish than Nendas had been expected. He briefly wondered if he should part company with her. But he considered that being alone with only Ralign for the company would be worse. "So you abandoned your family?"


    "Why not?" asked Taha. "I had a dozen sisters who could marry in my place. And if I had married the Lord, I''d have been a curiosity. A trophy of sorts. I''d have children and maybe come to love my husband and have grandchildren. And then I''d be forgotten.


    "I could live a ''good'' life, but I''d have no power. I wouldn''t exist."


    "I take it this is why you decided to approach an Avatar of Jaha," mused Nendas.


    "Well, you are dedicated to alternate perspectives, aren''t you?" asked Taha. "The way of Jaha is that all beliefs are but elements of a greater whole. All ideologies and desires ultimately comprise the same, greater and final peace."


    "Provided they know their place, yes," said Nendas.


    Taha laughed hysterically at that line again. Rokas somewhat joined in, but Nendas did not allow himself to. They got several looks from the other men.


    "That''s good. Very good," said Taha. "But I knew my place. I just didn''t want it. I was educated by my parents, like all my sisters. I learned everything I could. When I exhausted one source of knowledge, I looked for more. I learned all kinds of things about farming. And I began to see things that could be improved.


    "When people wouldn''t listen to what I had to say, I found ways to convince them to make them think it was their idea.


    "I knew my place, Nendas. I became my place.


    "And I decided that wasn''t who I wanted to be. So I let my younger sister marry the Lord and became something else."


    Nendas considered how to react. Perhaps to ask about who her family had been. She had to have some remaining loyalty to them. "Who was she? This sister of yours."


    "I don''t know," said Taha. "I''ve forgotten them all. Why should I treat it any better if the world doesn''t want me to be more than a face in the crowd? My Mother, Father, my siblings, and town... they''re just backstories.


    "None of them matter anymore."


    "And what do you want? Why are you doing all of this?" asked Nendas.


    Taha looked up at the vast gates of Tarasif as they rose up before her. "I want to grow in power and prestige to a level beyond comprehension. If there are no gods, then I want to become one. I know I''ll never get there, of course, but I want to get as far as I can for myself."


    "And what will you do when you''ve gotten as far as you possibly can?" asked Nendas.


    "Well, after I''ve made my ladder and gotten to the top?" asked Taha. "I guess I''ll pull the ladder up after me."


    "Would it not be better to let others climb up after you?" asked Rokas.


    "Of course not! I had to work hard to get everything I am!" said Taha. "What I am was built from nothing. Why should the simpering and ignorant masses get an easy way to success? My success is because of my own efforts. People should have to work for what they get.


    "If people follow me up the ladder, they''ll just wreck the place.


    "They are peasants, after all."


    Nendas stared at her. "Aren''t you?"


    "Being a peasant has nothing to do with rank. It''s all in the mindset," said Taha. "Don''t try to define me as a noble or a merchant or an artisan. None of them apply.


    "Taha is."


    "Taha is a very sick person," noted Nendas with a laugh, finding her too outrageous to even feel angry.


    "By all means, try to cure me, Nendas," said Taha, drawing pleasantly near momentarily. "Or send me away." And she stepped further away. "Rokas and I can find somebody else to work for. No skin off my nose."


    "I''m not certain that is possible," said Nendas. "But your insight might be valuable."


    Soon they neared the gates and walked through them. A great crowd came out to greet the King, who waved to the people as he did. Nendas walked a little ahead but listened to Taha and Nendas'' conversation.


    "Are you sure about this, Taha?" asked Rokas.


    "More than ever," said Taha. "This is going to be good. Risky, but good." As they passed into the city, Nendas looked at the buildings and people. Most buildings were in good repair, and the streets were remarkably clean. Many people were very interested in seeing Samrasa pass by. Nendas noted alms being given out to the poor.


    "Wow, Tarasif is very nice, isn''t it," said Taha. "Huge buildings, never seen anything bigger. However, Kulat had a few that compare.


    "Have you been here before, Nendas?"


    Why did she insist on speaking to him so casually? Because she lost nothing by him sending her away. And Nendas gained very little. He was going to have to find a way to instill some obedience in her. "No, but my Father should be here. Once I arrive, I will meet with him..." His gaze turned to a hill overlooking the city, and on it was a horrible sight. "More crucifixions.


    "Why does King Samrasa persist in these?"


    "Eh, it''s nasty and good for making a statement, I guess," said Taha. "Maybe he worships Baltoth in secret."


    "Baltoth?" asked Nendas.


    "Yeah, Baltoth is really big on order," said Taha. "His whole thing is Order above all else, and he runs his pantheon. The sort of person King Samrasa might follow.


    "So, Ralign has been giving you nothing but dark looks since we started."


    "What of it?" asked Nendas, noticing one now.


    "I think he might try to have you killed," said Taha. "He seems to hate your guts; I don''t think you''re all that convenient for the King Samrasa, and even if you are...


    "He''s reckless."


    "What are you suggesting?" asked Nendas.


    "Don''t do any more miracles; avoid Ralign like the plague and watch your back," said Taha. "Also, stay in a different building than Samrasa. Set yourself up somewhere else.


    "It''ll make it harder for you to get arrested."


    "You have experience with this?" guessed Nendas.


    "Oh yeah, I watched a lot of stuff like this go down when I was in the service of Tamar," said Taha. "The royalty in were always killing each other off. You think I learned knife-throwing for fun?"


    "I''ll keep it in mind," said Nendas.


    He really needed to meet with Father. And also spoke with Jaha.


    At least Taha was easier company on the eyes than Ralign.

 Chapter Six: Failing Faith

    Later that day, Nendas kneeled in prayer within a shrine, regretful at being kept away. He''d had to go far away from the palace to find a shrine to Jaha, which was indeed in poor shape. Vines were starting to grow upward around it, and he simply did not have the time to go there as much as he''d liked. It appeared to be a general-purpose shrine to any god.


    And once again, Nendas found himself devoid of real motivation. He knew what he was here to say, but how did you approach a God with it? He supposed he ought to just get to the point.


    "Queen Jaha..." said Nendas. "I know this may sound bad, but... could you not perform any miracles through me. I mean, I want to help other people, but... King Samrasa disapproves; if I openly defy him, we could face serious problems. I might even be killed, depending on how things are going.


    "I mean, I''m not suggesting you shouldn''t help people, but perhaps... perhaps you could try helping people indirectly. Like, in a miraculous way, Samrasa can explain it away as not a miracle.


    "I-"


    The door opened, and Taha stepped in. "Hey, Nendas."


    "Yes?" asked Nendas, irritated. "What is it? I told you not to interrupt me while I was praying?"


    "Oh, right," said Taha. "Sorry to mess with your alone time with your imaginary friend."


    "Imaginary... she''s been worshipped by my clan for centuries!" said Nendas. "We''ve followed her since the day my ancestor, Narhan Hasafa came to this land from the Rammasian Civil War. And he did so in the company of an Incarnation of the Land. Parting ways with him, he saw Jaha in a vision and aided her in bringing peace to the area around Tarasif.


    "Eventually, he resolved that his Clan should serve her all their days. And when he married a noblewoman of the land, Jaha entered into her."


    "Wait, which Incarnation of the Land was this?" asked Taha.


    "I think ah, I think it was Kantora," said Nendas. "She was the one who finalized the borders between the nations that would be kept. And she also slew many of the spawn of Typhos that had infested these lands. In doing so, she restored the natural order.


    "She was killed by Adraculus the Hydra when he poisoned her with one of his fangs. She survived the poison, but Laevian cursed her with a bad illness that finished her off."


    "Wait a minute, Laevian is the Goddess of the Wilds," said Taha. "Why assassinate your own puppet ruler?"


    "The Incarnation of the Land is meant to ensure harmony. Harmony between mortals and the spirits," said Nendas. "It was an appointment organized by Alchara, the Goddess of Harmony in ages past, though it took on a power of its own. Laevian, however, finds the very idea of harmony offensive. It was originally conceived of by the Goddess Alchara, her sister, who she hates. She is also very ruthless.


    "I imagine she regarded Kantora''s actions as an infringement on her territory. So she killed her. That is all the justification Laevian would need. Although I imagine Elranor might have to give her the go-ahead. The God Triumvirate never recognized the Incarnation of the Land. They have killed them several times in the past.*


    "Harmony is a concept they dislike."


    "Right, well, hat''s a very nice story, but it doesn''t make Jaha real," said Taha with a shrug.


    "You overstep yourself," said Nendas. "Think what you will of the Gods, but don''t bring your disrespect into their domain."


    "Right, right, sorry," said Taha, stepping out.


    Nendas moved in, satisfied he had set borders. "Now, were you successful?"


    "I got us an apartment with the finances provided," said Taha. "I also secured us a stipend from the King."


    Nendas nodded. "I see. That was fast.


    "How did you get the stipend?"


    "Oh, I just asked the right people," said Taha. "Figured out who was in charge, made a few requests that would be inconvenient for them to refuse. Just a little inconvenient; not like I''m threatening them.


    "First thing you gotta do when you go to a new place is this; You learn where the power is. Once you understand the source of power, you can channel it. You can have everything you want once you learn to channel it."


    Nendas paused and glanced back to the statue. "I''ll speak to you later, Jaha."


    And he moved to sit down and wait for Rokas. He had specifically decided not to stay in the palace. His given reason had been that he wanted to see more of the city and did not want to impose. This was true, but he also suspected Samrasa would have an easier time purging people in his own palace.


    Nendas did not want to think that he might do such a thing in violation of the guest''s right. But it was best to be prepared.


    "So, why are you talking to your imaginary friends so much anyway?" asked Taha.


    "Jaha is not imaginary," said Nendas. "I can feel her presence in my mind at all times. Her presence within me has changed how I see and interact with the world. And she has watched over the Hasafa Clan for literal centuries."


    "Just because she''s the imaginary friend of many people doesn''t make her real," said Taha.


    "She literally branded me," said Nendas, pointing to his forehead. "This symbol on my hand was put on my forehead by her."


    "By her priests, you mean," said Taha with a shrug.


    "No, I mean her," said Nendas. "There was a glowing light, and it happened."


    "Eh, you probably were hallucinating while the priests branded you," said Taha.


    "Jaha doesn''t have any priests! I am the priest!" said Nendas.


    "Fine, then, while your Uncle branded you," said Taha. "You said yourself there''s a period of time you can''t account for."


    "Taha, I have finished leaving offerings at the shrine spirit of this place," said Rokas, coming back. "They seem very... tense."


    "What do you mean ''tense''?" asked Taha. "Spirits don''t exist, Rokas. It''s just people misinterpreting natural occurrences."


    "Well then, who keeps demons at bay?" asked Nendas.


    "Demons don''t exist either," said Taha.


    "So... you don''t believe that any kind of greater being exists than mortals?" asked Nendas, realizing the scope of her nonbelief.


    "Well, obviously. It''s the only possible conclusion," said Taha.


    "But what about magic?" asked Nendas. "You saw me performing dozens upon dozens of miracles. If King Samrasa hadn''t ordered I stop, I''d be doing them right now."


    "Might not want to say that so loudly, but, yeah, that''s just magic," said Taha.


    "Just magic?" asked Nendas. So Taha believed magic existed independent of gods, spirits, and demons? "Well then, where did the magic come from?"


    "Psychic manifestations of the collective unconscious," said Taha.


    Nendas hadn''t understood a word of that. "I''m sorry?"


    "People all have a little bit of innate psychic power in them," said Taha. "A lot of people believe in a certain thing, so their thoughts naturally gather together. These thoughts naturally form together into forces. These forces, in turn, have certain people who can tap into them."


    That was the most ridiculous thing Nendas had ever heard of. So ridiculous that finding a way to disprove it would take some work. "I see.


    "So this force of yours, do you believe it can think?"


    "Well, I guess it has a general will, more the will of the worshippers made manifest," said Taha. "But it is a very chaotic and undirected sort of will. When you''re speaking to Jaha, you''re actually speaking to your interpretation of her."


    "But you just said Jaha didn''t exist," said Nendas. "You keep changing your theory. Do you believe gods exist or don''t you?"


    "I''m willing to admit that there might be psychic manifestations of mortal will," said Taha.


    "But those manifestations have traits, don''t they?" asked Nendas. "Not every psychic manifestation has the same priorities or method of operation?"


    "Yes. I guess," said Taha.


    "And they have a will of sorts, even if individual worshippers effect that will," pressed Nendas.


    "Yes, what about it?" asked Taha.


    "So they''re gods then," said Nendas.


    "No, they''re psychic manifestations of the collective unconscious," said Taha.


    "What you''re calling a ''psychic manifestation'' is just a god by another name," said Nendas. "The most you''ve done is create an alternate interpretation for how they are created. One which isn''t even a very good one. Even uninhabited places have nature spirits. Do you think the will of dead rocks elected the Incarnation of the Land?"


    "What even is a collective unconscious?" asked Rokas. "You''ve never told me."


    Taha shifted. "It''s um... the unconscious of the human race as a whole."


    "Yes, but what is it? How do you define it?" asked Nendas.


    "It''s common to mortals and represents ancestral memory and experience," said Taha. "I read the book a while ago in the library."


    "Okay, but how is this collective unconscious maintained?" asked Nendas. "I presume it requires some kind of communication between humans. Can you provide evidence of this communication? Can it forget things? How did it form? Why do cultures that have never come into contact with one another come up with the same ideas? Do all animal species possess such an unconscious? Or just us?


    "If it was just us, what makes us special?"


    "Look, it doesn''t matter how the psychic manifestations operate anyway. Or the collective unconscious, for that matter," said Taha flatly.


    "Why not?" asked Nendas.


    "Because gods aren''t real. So it''s the only possible explanation," said Taha.


    Nendas put his face in his hands. "Taha, your stalwart faith in absolute nothingness puts my devotion to Jaha to shame."


    "I try," laughed Taha.*


    Taha didn''t care, realized Nendas.


    She''d dismissed the Gods as unimportant before deciding they did not exist. So suggesting they might not be real was no blow to her ego. Philosophy and theology seemed to be an amusement for her. It was something she enjoyed discussing. But the truth had no real meaning or effect on her. It might as well have been a rainbow. Pretty, but unsubstantial and an illusion. But then, nothing had meaning in her worldview, did it?


    "In that case, Taha, what would you say the Incarnation of the Land was?" asked Rokas.


    "Hmm, what do you mean?" asked Taha.


    "Well, you keep saying that Avatars of Gods are an elaborate hallucination," said Rokas. "What do you think the Incarnation of the Land was? There was only one of them, and they could commune with any spirit, demon, or deity.


    "And they were an entity created by the will of the nature spirits at Alchara''s suggestion. The idea was to have someone to negotiate between mortals and spirits."


    "Fictional," said Taha. "Someone just made all the stories up or attributed them all to different figures."


    "Tarasif was named after the last Incarnation of the Land," noted Nendas.


    "So?" asked Taha. "That doesn''t mean he existed. None of us know what happened back when people were writing about. All we do know is some guy named Tarasif, who may or may not have existed, was important enough to name a city after."


    "We know he existed. He destroyed the largest armada the world had ever seen by himself," said Rokas. "Everyone agrees there was a great army sent by ship from the northern land of Acreus*. And everyone agrees he destroyed the armada."


    "My guess is that the historians he was paying said he did that," said Taha. "And somebody else did all the real work. Taking credit for other people''s work is an ancient profession. It has a long and glorious history.


    "A lie agreed upon by enough may as well be true.


    "Hey, what happened to him anyway?"


    "He was murdered by the King of Kulat, Saspin," said Nendas, who had studied the subject. "Saspin desired to recreate the Old Empire by force of arms and was close to doing so. Tarasif, however, believed wars of aggressive expansion were immoral. He used his powers to force the various Kings not to fight one another.


    "And he convinced Barden to raise a great mountain range between Tarasif and the sea. It saved the lands from the Babarassian''s raids for years."


    "What an idiot," laughed Taha.


    "Taha, how can you say that? He ensured a lasting peace for decades," said Rokas.


    "Yeah, at the expense of his neck," said Taha. "He was stupid enough to tell the Kings of different nations, no. With an attitude like that, he''d make nothing but enemies. Getting Barden to raise those mountains also cut off all trade to the south.


    "My guess is that this place became a heck of a lot poorer after he did that.


    "How''d they kill him anyway?"


    Nendas paused. "Well, Tarasif used his powers to get the spirits to hamper the economy of any society that went on the offensive. Initially, this benefitted Saspin, who was fighting mostly defensive wars. But, Saspin wanted to go on the offensive against his weakened neighbors. His goal was to recreate the Old Empire.


    "So he made a deal with Melchious."


    Everything went cold. Taha shuddered and looked around, and Rokas said a prayer. "Melchious?"


    Hey, come on, let''s uh... let''s not tell horror stories. Everybody knows Melchious isn''t real."


    "Real or not, they put those markings on every door to ward him off at night," said Nendas. He motioned to the symbol of a bird within a cage over the door to this shrine. "And Melchious gave Saspin the means to kill his friend.


    "The Avatar of Spirits died, and the war resumed."


    Taha paused. "So how''d he do it, though?"


    "Why would you need to ask that?" asked Nendas. "He''s an ordinary man with no real divine support who made enemies of many Kings. Or are you admitting he had some?"


    "Cute," said Taha. "Just answer the question."


    "Melchious shot him in the back with a poisoned arrow," said Rokas.


    "That''s it?" asked Taha, sounding disappointed.


    "Do you know how difficult it is to sneak up on a man for whom nature itself is a protector and friend?" asked Nendas, feeling like it was not him speaking. "Stories say the Tarasif could hear everything for miles and see in all directions at once. Nobody knows how Melchious got behind him.


    "Usually, the Incarnation of the Land gets killed by stealth. Their power was so great that few could cross them. Although come to think of it, they have a tendency to die young."


    "Well, what do you expect?" asked Taha. "There''s no consistent foreign policy. Neither is there any consistent system of succession. So if the Avatar makes a decision you don''t like, kill him and run the same decision past his reincarnation.


    "Although, I''d put him in a position to be killed and then just not help him. Keep my hands clean and all that.


    "Why did they stop appearing?"


    "No one knows," said Nendas. "Although his death led to one of our history''s blood-drenched conflicts. With all the murder and burning, he was probably killed when he was only a child¡ªseveral dozen times.


    "During the fighting, many of the Kings took the opportunity to destroy his temples. They killed his priests and blackened his name. His temples were repurposed to worship the true gods. Within a decade, there simply wasn''t anyone looking for his return. Certainly, no one would know how to recognize him or teach him to command his power.


    "For all we know, he''s still out there and doesn''t know it."


    "I have never understood why there was such a fast turnaround," noted Rokas.


    "My own belief is that the Incarnation of the Land died from a lack of self-reflection," said Nendas. He felt Jaha speaking through him. "Each incarnation was a completely different person with different beliefs, gender, and race. As a result, he has no core precincts.


    "A man who wishes to follow a god has a set of rules by which to live his life. But the Incarnation of the Land had no commandments and little in the way of a consistent ideology.


    "Only a vague idea that harmony and balance were wonderful and people should live in peace.


    "Which was wonderful. Until you have to tell a group of peasants who live close to starvation they have to let some of their fields grow wild. Or tell some fishermen whose livelihood is at stake they have to cut back.


    "When a famine strikes, who are they going to blame?


    "It also didn''t help that they had a tendency to side with nature. We have many records of their decisions, dating back as far as the days of before the God War. They always spoke of compromise until it came time for the spirits or elves to give something up. That worked when we were fighting to survive every minute and were utterly beholden to them. But over time, humans gained enough power to manage on their own.


    "Yet we were always treated as a defeated power that had supposedly been set up for our benefit. This was long after the point where they became the stronger. After the elves fell from power, the Incarnation of the Land was a source of legitimacy for Kings. His endorsement allowed them to establish themselves.


    "However, as Kings began to favor one god or another, things changed. Eventually, he overstepped himself one too many times and was destroyed.


    "If the carnage that followed had not been so horrific, he would be remembered as the villain of that story. Jaha, meanwhile, remains the Goddess of Peace. She is not foolish enough to throw her weight around. She allows people to make their own choices and simply shifts things to make them work out."


    "It might have been must less horrific if he allowed the battle to happen earlier," noted Rokas. "The bloodbaths proceeding Samrasa were a result of decades of unfulfilled grudges. It might have been avoided if men had been allowed to battle one another on a smaller scale."


    "Well, that whole thing about seeing for miles is probably embellishment. All to make the thing seem less anticlimactic," said Taha dismissively. "Still, I don''t get why Tarasif would be so hostile to religion if they named themselves after a high priest."


    "Times change," said Nendas. "And the spirits and gods do not always have the same interests at heart. Many of the Gods favored reuniting the land by force."


    And then there was a flash and a roar of confusion from the city. It could be heard even within the palace.


    "What was that?" asked Rokas.


    "A lightning bolt?" asked Taha. "Pretty odd weather to get one in broad daylight."


    "Let''s go have a look," said Nendas.


    Quickly they hurried out of the palace gates and down to hill into the streets. As they walked, they saw people running this way and that. There was an air of panic around them.


    "Did you hear?" asked a man. "An emissary of the King has been assassinated!"


    "What?" said his friend.


    "It''s true; he was stabbed to death while trying to meet with the servants of Barden," said the man. "A worshipper of Elranor stabbed him to death, right before being fried by lightning."


    "Why would Elranor fire a lightning bolt to kill one of his own?" asked the first. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, he was taking his name in vain," said the second. "That''s what many of the folk in the meeting thought. I don''t see what the worshippers of Elranor would have to gain by it, anyway."


    "Shh, not so loud," said the first. "Nobody will want us talking about them after this. Say nothing too favorable."


    Nendas grabbed the man by the shoulder. "You, who was killed?"


    "I uh... the brother of the Head of the Hasafa Clan, I think," said the man.


    Father was...


    Were there any other members of the Hasafa Clan here? There had to be? "Where did this happen? Where is the body?"


    "They took it off to the palace, I think," said the man.


    "Taha, Rokas, stay here!" said Nendas.


    "Are you sure-" began Taha.


    "Stay here," said Nendas. "If I don''t come back... Nevermind." And he raced off.


    Had Samrasa had him killed? Had Uncle been a part of this? If so, Nendas might be killed next. He wouldn''t want Taha or Rokas getting caught up in all this. On some level, Nendas knew going to the palace was a bad idea. But he had to see it done.


    Arriving at the gates, he learned where the body was and went to it. But as he reached the door, he was stopped.


    "Hold on a moment; you''re the Avatar of Jaha," said the guard. "Just what business do you think you have in the palace? Especially after what you''re kind-"


    "My father may be dead. I am not the Avatar of Jaha, not now," said Nendas. "Please, I... the man who was assassinated may have been my Father."


    The guard halted. "I''ll ask if you can be allowed in to see the body, but no promises. Keep an eye on him."


    The guard entered, and Nendas waited, keeping a hand on his sword. If he was attacked here, he would go down fighting. But soon, the guard returned. "You''ve been given permission. Follow me."


    Nendas nodded. "Thank you."


    Nendas was not ready for this.


    He did not want to see what lay within these halls. But he knew it was something he had to face. So he walked forward behind the guard and came to a morgue. It was a cold, gray room where the body was lying in repose beneath a cloth. Ralign was there, and Nendas at once guessed he was seeking to confirm the death. What other reason could he have?


    "Well, if it isn''t, the Avatar of Jaha will come to grace us," said Ralign. "Amazing how much good work you religious types do, isn''t it?"


    Nendas moved past Ralign, ignoring the words. Coming to the cloth, he took hold of it. For a moment, he was silent and composed himself and drew it off. There he saw the fact of his father, wounded by a dagger to the heart.


    Nendas nodded, confirming his suspicion. He felt bile rising in his throat, but he forced himself to stay calm. His father was dead. Someone assassinated him, very likely someone in this very palace.


    "Is that all you have to say?" asked Ralign.


    When Nendas did not answer, Ralign seemed about to flare up. Instead, he left. Which meant he had some order which precluded picking a fight.


    "Is this him?" asked the guard, glancing at Ralign.


    "Yes," said Nendas. "Yes, that is my Father. I will have to... I will have to write to Uncle about this. How did he die? What happened?" He must demonstrate some weakness to maintain appearances.


    "A worshipper of Elranor killed him," said the guard. "He shouted praises to Elranor as he stabbed him from the crowd. When that happened, a lightning bolt struck him. The priests say it was a punishment from Zeya for blasphemy, but I think it was tying up loose ends.


    "You can''t get a confession out of a corpse."


    Demonstrate weakness. "What was going on there?" murmured Nendas. "He said he was sure he could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement."


    "I''m afraid our enemies aren''t interested in any arrangement," said a voice.


    Nendas looked up and saw Samrasa arriving. No doubt he''d heard of what was happened and had come to manipulate him. But why would he have Father murdered? He did not, necessarily. He might have simply been taking advantage of events.


    "King Samrasa?" asked Nendas, letting his voice sound vulnerable.


    "Yes, I just heard about it," said Samrasa. "Your father was a good man, Nendas. I never wanted it to come to this, but... this is our world."


    "What is to be done?" asked Nendas, returning his voice to resolve.


    "The Temple of Elranor must pay for this atrocity," said Samrasa. "As King, my authority is absolute and was granted initially by the gods. To assassinate one of my messengers is heresy of the worst kind."


    "Are we certain the Temple was involved?" asked Nendas. "Father always spoke highly of them."Samrasa sighed in what no doubt was meant to make him appear wise and lofty. "...I''m afraid that even if they are not involved, we have passed the point of negotiations. The people must know that to kill a King''s messenger is to court death. If there is no reprisal for this atrocity, Order will cease.


    "And how else do you explain the convenient murder of the assassin after the blow was dealt."


    Nendas shifted and looked down "...I cannot."


    Let Samrasa think that Nendas was his puppet. Let him think and wait until the time was right to strike back. Samrasa seemed to buy it and put a hand on his shoulder, and Nendas kept in check his revulsion. "You must take charge of this, Nendas. It is your duty, as a son, as an Avatar of a God, and as a warrior."


    "Should not a more experienced warrior undertake the task?" asked Nendas, voice holding some of his doubt.


    "Ralign cannot be trusted with so delicate a matter," said Samrasa. "He has many uses, but he lacks the sophistication for such a venture. You must go to the Temple of Elranor and clear the priests from it. None must remain to taint Tarasif any further.


    "Naturally, however, I would gladly provide you with troops-"


    "I don''t need them," said Nendas simply. He would not be Samrasa''s puppet; he would fulfill the order in his own way and avert the atrocity. An idea already came to him. "I will handle this duty personally or die in the attempt."


    Samrasa looked at him in surprise. "That is very bold of you. But what makes you think you can handle this alone?"


    "I will not be going alone," said Nendas. "I simply do not need the help of those trained by Ralign. They may do something reckless."


    Samrasa paused. "...You''re a very brave young man.


    "But the temple of Elranor has armed guards. You will be going to your death."


    "We shall see," said Nendas. "May I go?"


    "Of course," said Samrasa.


    Nendas went at once out the door to search for Taha and Rokas. He found Ralign waiting with a number of his men. He looked at Nendas. "Oh look, one weak female is off to avenge another!


    "Are you in need of some actual warriors?"


    It was at that moment Nendas realized the truth. Ralign was completely under Samrasa''s control. Samrasa had offered him something; Nendas wasn''t sure what. Power, or the ability to do whatever he wanted, and in return, Ralign had given up himself. No doubt Samrasa had told Ralign that Nendas would be used and disposed of. Or perhaps Ralign merely assumed at much.


    Pinning the blame for the atrocity on Jaha would be a logical way to deflect responsibility. Even so, the stain of sin was still on Samrasa for this.


    "No, I''m handling this myself," said Nendas. "I''d like to warn you, Ralign. This isn''t going to last." And the words were not his own.


    "What isn''t? Your spine?" said Ralign.


    "No, the way you''re acting," said Jaha through Nendas. "Your actions are wounding others, and you are wounding yourself by wounding them. Even now, you are cutting your own spirit with blades of sneering contempt. The Gods will not forever tolerate your actions.


    "I suggest you contemplate what you have done and what you intend to do."


    "Just who the hell do you think you are, boy?" said Ralign. "I am the Captain of the King''s guard; you''re nothing more than a curiosity!"


    "You''re not talking to the boy," said Nendas''s voice. "I suggest you think about your path in life before it is too late."


    And Nendas was himself again. And he realized that Ralign had almost certainly had a hand in murdering his father. And now, as he came to pay respects, Ralign had mocked and insulted his memory. Rage bubbled up within him. "...There will come a day, Ralign, when you will have lost all protection. On that day, you will scoff and sneer as you always have. Heedless of warnings, heedless of your own conscience.


    "On that day...


    "Remember me. Remember today.


    "This is the reason."


    And Nendas walked past.


    Thinking to himself, he calculated that Ralign was more trouble than he was worth. No doubt Samrasa was looking into replacing him even now with someone. Nendas needed only to make himself a valuable asset. Then he''d appear to be falling into Samrasa''s sway, and he would become that replacement.


    That would allow him to kill Ralign. And also to strike at Samrasa at a later date. Jaha, however, noted that his priority should not be killing Ralign or Samrasa but peace. Nendas took the point and wondered what part Uncle had in this?


    Father''s death would be...


    It would be a terrible blow to the Hasafa Clan. Had Uncle really been a part of it? If so, why? Jealousy? Why would any man strike off his right hand?


    It did not matter. If Uncle had been part of it, he would die as well. He had played the part of a kin slaying and murdered his own brother. Worst of all, the act had not served the Hasafa in any way. There would be a payment for this crime.


    But not yet.


    As it turned out, Nendas met Taha and Rokas outside the gates of the palace. Why had they followed him here? Curiosity?


    It did not matter.


    "Nendas, you''re back," said Rokas. "What happened? Are you alright?"


    "My Father is dead," said Nendas. "We''re going to the Temple of Elranor. I''ll explain on the way."


    Nendas would not weep. And he would mourn...


    He would mourn later.


    *This is true.


    Anoa the Bright killed one of them, Sokas, quite brutally during the Founding of Harlenor. There was, apparently, a very personal vendetta between them. But I lack records on the subject here.


    I believe, however, that it was during his later years of rule.


    *I genuinely wonder if Taha believed in anyone or anything other than herself.


    *Acreus, I am told, was a powerful hegemony of the Amazons that long ago attempted to invade Tarasif by sea. It was built to the north and west of Acoria, Mother''s homeland.


    Mother was there when the fleet launched, however. She assures me it was nowhere near the size of the Estalian fleet. Indeed, it was more of a large raid. The numbers, I suppose, were exaggerated by later accounts.


    Taha''s delusions thus had a grain of truth, as often seems to be the case.

 Chapter Seven: Negotiations

    The temple of Elranor stood above them, a surprisingly drab affair. Every statue was of simple tan stone, though they were well-carved. Some of these statues had survived centuries of conquests and reconquests. There was no gold or jewels on the walls, and the guards were clad in plain weaponry. Nendas looked over it and wondered how he was going to do this.


    Jaha was not providing much help here, which made sense.


    He could find a way to reduce Samrasa''s harm to the worshippers of Elranor. If Nendas did nothing, Samrasa would murder them either way. Perhaps if they got them to leave? But it would have to be fast.


    He mulled it over as they drew nearer.


    The best thing to do would be to have Elranor''s chosen to withdraw from the city and go underground. Move into the countryside. Samrasa would want them dead either way, but they were a moving target in the countryside. He had only been told to clear the temple, not kill those within.


    "So, the Temple of Elranor," said Taha, looking up at it. "This place is nice. Think of all the daggers you could buy with the gold inside!"


    "It looks fairly drab to me," said Rokas.


    "Right," said Taha. "So there is probably someplace where the treasure is collected. Oh, can we loot the place after we finish beating up everyone in it? Or have our way with some priestesses-"


    "We are not going to kill anyone if we can avoid it," said Nendas. "Let alone defiling priestesses. Besides, the priests of Elranor don''t accept female members."


    "I approve of that much," said Rokas. "Though Elranor''s worshippers do have priestesses in Kulat."


    "Well, what is our plan then?" asked Taha.


    "We are going to talk to them," said Nendas.


    "Ah, so I''m guessing you didn''t call up that angry mob then," said Taha.


    Nendas looked up and saw a horde of people rushing toward the temple. They were holding knives and clubs and approaching.


    "Murderers!" cried one man.


    "Betrayers of the King!" said another.


    "Get them! Get them all!" said a third.


    Nendas had to stop this. Stepping up onto the temple steps, he drew his sword and cried aloud. "In the name of the King, step back! Step back! I''ll kill the first man who enters this place without leave!"


    He must have looked more impressive than he felt because the crowd stopped. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The Avatar of Jaha..." said a man.


    "Why are you protecting them!" said a woman.


    "I am here on behalf of King Samrasa to negotiate with the Temple and ensure justice is done," said Nendas simply. "Until such a time as I give leave, those within this temple remain under the King''s protection.


    "Step back, or you shall cross the King and the divine! Now disperse!"


    It got through to them. They didn''t all disperse, but many ended up hanging out around. Nendas provided to turn and walked up the steps with Taha and Rokas on either side. Reaching the top, he saw High Priest Surras standing before him.


    "High Priest Surras, I presume?" said Nendas.


    "I am he," said Surras.


    "Then perhaps we should speak and quickly," said Nendas. "My guards will accompany me."Surras nodded and brought them inside. Within was a great, spacious hall with many statues of heroes around them.


    "What is it the Queen of Peace wants here, and why is she doing the dirty work of Samrasa?" asked Surras.


    "I am not doing her bidding at the moment," said Nendas. "I am here serving King Samrasa as one of his warriors. And I have been ordered to clear this temple of all within. You and your entourage have been accused of the murder of my father, the emissary of the King."


    "We have done nothing of the sort," said Surras. "Others sent those assassins, and you know it."


    "Who sent the assassin is irrelevant to you and me," said Nendas. "What matters is that King Samrasa has ordered the priests of Elranor to leave the city."


    "Do you think the Gods will stand for such an atrocity?" asked Surras.


    "What I think does not matter," said Nendas. "I have orders to clear this temple. And it will be done even if I do not perform this action; another will. Either you and your company leave the city of Tarasif, or when I come back here, not one of you will remain alive."


    "...You would threaten to kill us on holy ground?" asked Surras.


    "Nendas, can I talk?" asked Taha.


    "What is it, Taha?" asked Nendas.


    "This situation is pretty bad for both of us, High Priest," said Taha. "You see, Nendas must obey the King, or the worship of Jaha would suffer. And those people out there will be enraged if Samrasa lets this pass.


    "He has to be seen to do something.


    "At the same time, what happens if you dig in your heels here? Lile Nendas says, even if you kill us, others will come by and finish the job. At the very best, you''ll inspire enough rage to start a civil war over your deaths. Then Kulat will use the chance to invade."


    "What are you suggesting?" asked Surras.


    "If you fight Samrasa on this, it''ll only weaken Tarasif and won''t benefit you at all," said Taha. "And if violence breaks out, the people of Elranor will suffer horrible persecution. Samrasa has already targeted other religions; you''ll be put among them."


    "What then?" asked Surras. "That I yield the holiest places of Elranor to him?"


    "Why not? It''s just a building," said Taha. "Declare that the murder committed has defiled the house of Elranor. That he has commanded, you leave it through Samrasa. That way, you''ll be able to take the valuables here and get out without much violence.


    "You''ll deny Samrasa''s soldiers the chance to loot the place. Not all of them are as nice as us, you know. So, you get to keep your money and set up a temple in the countryside or something. Nobody gets killed, and Samrasa is appeased, and he may even have a rift driven between him and his men.


    "If you put up a fight here, though, it''ll only make you look even worse."


    "It is as Taha says," said Nendas, impressed by what she said. "You cannot possibly win in this situation. Either you will leave of your own will or die and bring curses down on all who follow you."


    Surras considered it. "...Give me some time to consider my response."


    "As you wish," said Nendas before drawing out his sword. Setting it onto the ground, he walked in a circle and scraped the blade behind him. Coming to a halt in front of Surras again, the circle was complete.


    "You have until you step out of that circle to give me a response," said Nendas.


    Surras took the point.


    But he did not panic. Instead, he sat down cross-legged in the circle, closed his eyes, and began meditating. Nendas waited, trying to keep his feeling of nervousness in control. Surras continued his meditations, and Nendas wondered if he was speaking with Elranor. Then he wondered why he should doubt the fact.


    "I have spoken with Elranor," said Surras. "He has ordered me to accept your offer."


    "...What manner of God gives personal audiences on a moment''s notice," said Nendas.


    "No task is unimportant to Elranor," said Surras. "Whether a farmer''s toil or the machinations of kings, all have equal importance."


    Nendas tried to regain control. "Good.


    "Now go out there and express the horror of the worshippers of Elranor at what was done. And tell the crowd what you will be doing. I will escort you to the gates as soon as you have packed everything you can.


    "I recommend not traveling too heavily. Those who walk heavily burdened can be prey to bandits.


    "You will also donate a suitable sum of money to the King in apology for the atrocity. I don''t presume to tell you how much. But I warn you that too small an amount would be worse than nothing at all."


    Surras shrugged and turned to walk away. Nendas looked to see several monks standing by, looking at him. "Go.


    "All of you, begin gathering what supplies you can for a journey. Take your weapons if you wish, but I want you all out of this city before sundown.


    "Rokas, go with them. Ensure that no trickery is made here."


    Rokas nodded and went off. Taha looked at Nendas in surprise. "You think Rokas will be able to take them if they decide to kill us?"


    "No," said Nendas. "But I don''t fancy my chances of killing everyone here. Rokas is merely there as a reminder of authority. Mine and the Kings."


    "So, what does Jaha say about all of this?" asked Taha.


    "Nothing!" said Nendas hotly. "Jaha has nothing to do with this."


    And then Taha leaned in and kissed him. The sensation was brief and sudden, and Nendas stared at her. Just what was going on here? He stared at her.


    "What about now?" asked Taha.


    Nendas tried to process what had happened and her motives. "Now...


    "Now is not the time for this."


    Taha seemed to like his reaction, however.


    Nendas observed as the priests of Elranor began their departure. Outside, he saw the crowds disperse. Nendas moved out to observe them, and eventually, Rokas came to meet him. "Nendas, we''ve gotten what supplies they need. They have taken such treasures as they believe will be necessary for the road."


    Nendas nodded and wondered what Jaha thought of all this. What other option did Nendas have? Wasn''t he saving the men of Elranor by doing this? Either way, Surras eventually returned with his people, packed and ready. It appeared they had prepared to leave on short notice for some time.


    "Do you have everything you need now?" asked Nendas.


    "Yes," said Surras. "I fought for Tarasif as a soldier for twenty years. The same can be said for many of this priesthood. And now we are cast out by a beardless boy."


    "It is not by my authority that you are cast out," said Nendas simply. "Move. Before King Samrasa sends someone else."


    "As you wish," said Surras. "King Samrasa may have the temple and everything in it. Those funds within are for the benefit of his house alone."


    However, they had yet to get to the base of the steps when Ralign arrived. He came leading a large force of men. Nendas halted as Surras tensed, and Nendas noted he was armed. This could get violent.


    "You, stop in the name of the King!" said Ralign.


    Nendas stepped between them, hand near his sword. "Ralign, I am acting in the name of the King."


    "You were commanded to clear the temple!" said Ralign.


    "Yes, and it is clear. The priests are leaving as we speak," said Nendas. "I was just walking them to the gates."


    "You were supposed to slaughter them!" said Ralign.


    "If King Samrasa wished them dead, I''m sure he would have told me as much," said Nendas. "He asked only that the temple be cleared, and it has been. The High Priest of Elranor has also cast out the assassin from the faith.


    "The temple lies empty. And King Samrasa will be receiving an extensive payment in compensation. What more do you want?"


    "What more do I..." Ralign shifted, looking around. "They killed your father! Don''t you have any shame!"


    "A worshipper of Elranor killed my Father," said Nendas. "It may have been a lone fanatic or part of a splinter sect. And since when do you care about what happened to my Father, Ralign? You were less than polite before."


    "The King has been disrespected, and you think that giving the wealth of the Temple will change that?" asked Ralign. "Especially after what these worthless religious folk has done before now. "Now you''re just letting them go and using the King''s name to justify it!"


    "He wanted to loot the temple," laughed Taha with a smile, spinning a knife.


    "What did you say?" asked Ralign.


    "Oh, come on, it''s obvious," said Taha. "A distinguished soldier like you would have been called to deal with the defenders. If you''d done that, you could have raped the priestesses. Torn the gold off the walls and had a great time smashing stuff. And you could have justified it all to yourself because ''they were evil'' or whatever.


    "But now Nendas has gotten the priests to leave the city peacefully. Crisis averted, and Samrasa gets all the stuff. Now, maybe you''ll get some of it. But not as much as you would have otherwise.


    "You''re not upset because the worshippers of Elranor are getting away. You''re upset you lost the chance to break and steal stuff with a clear conscience."


    Ralign looked to Taha, then Sarras, and then went very still. "...Men form up. We will escort the worshippers of Elranor away from the city to ensure they cause no further harm.


    "Nendas, you''ve done your job.


    "Now, I will do mine."


    So, Ralign intended to murder them all. Nendas looked to the crowd and wondered if they would change their views in any way. He looked to Surras, and then Rokas spoke. "You cannot-"


    "Don''t tell me what I can and cannot do, Kulatian," said Ralign.


    "...Don''t do this, Ralign," said Nendas, trying to save them. "This won''t help the King. A public spectacle will-"


    "I''ll do what I have to to save this nation from people like you," said Ralign. Then he turned to Surras. "We''ll escort you to the next town."


    Surras shrugged. "Lies become no one, Captain."


    And the monks moved with Ralign toward the gates. Taha, however, seemed unconcerned. "I''m betting Ralign wins with mild difficulty. Ten coppers?"


    "What?" asked Nendas. He saw Ralign and the priests being led away and followed after them. He would see this.


    "Well, it''s not like we can do anything about it," said Taha. "No way can we take a side in this. Even if the Priests of Elranor win, they''ll be shot by the archers. And Ralign isn''t going to be grateful. May as well have some fun, take some bets."


    "...You are a very bad person, Taha," said Rokas.


    "Good and bad are just words," said Taha with a shrug. "I do what I want to do without fear of imaginary figures."


    They walked in silence after the priests. As they passed the gates, however, Ralign drew a sword. The monks drew their weapons in turn, and soon both sides were killing one another. Soldiers rushed down toward Nendas.


    "Captain Ralign is fighting the worshippers of Elranor! What''s happening!" said a man.


    Nendas thought quickly and came to a possible escape. A means to move beyond this. "The worshippers of Elranor have been driven mad."


    "What?" said the man.


    "Their God is driving them to act against the King''s men," said Nendas quickly. "We must save them from themselves and go to Ralign''s aid."


    "Quickly, we must aid them!" said a man.


    Nendas led the charge himself.


    By the time they joined the battle, the priests were already losing. Even so, they''d killed several of the guards. Surras had cut down a swordsman and was fighting Ralign. Nendas himself killed no one, hanging back as he let the clash begin. Soon enough, the Elranor worshippers were swept away. Ralign looked at him in what might have been a bit of respect. Respect for what? Nendas had only done it to cover for himself.


    Did Ralign think Nendas had acted out of genuine devotion? He was dangerously naive as well as evil. "...How nice of you to show up.


    "Bury the gold. Take their heads."


    "No," said Nendas. "These men were deceived, not evil. They believed in the false promises of their God and were led to their ultimate destruction. Their bodies must be buried with respect.


    "As for the money, it must be given to King Samrasa so that he might decide how it should be used.


    "Wouldn''t you agree, Captain?"


    Ralign shrugged and drew his sword out of the corpse of Surras. Nendas reminded himself that there was nothing he could do to save them. "Do whatever you want with it.


    "But it was I who gave the money, not you."


    "You may take full credit for today''s events, Captain," said Nendas. He wanted no attention drawn to his role in this. The point was that he''d kept himself from being included with the rebels.


    Turning, he walked away from the corpses. Rokas approached him then. "Why did you do that, Nendas?"


    "We must remain useful," said Nendas. "King Samrasa should be able to use these events to break up the religion of Elranor. A rumor can be a powerful thing. So long as Ralign is the one who takes all the credit for the murders, it should contribute to his disgrace.


    "I hope King Samrasa will find favor in my actions."


    "...What, no, we meant, why would you make it so we couldn''t loot the bodies," said Taha. "We meant that, right?"


    "No, that wasn''t what I meant," said Rokas. "Why seek his favor at all?"


    Nendas shrugged. "How do you think I intend to stay alive?"


    Taha sighed. "Good point."


    Things would only become bleaker from here.


    His father was dead.


    And Nendas had no time to mourn. But he was alive and had the means to advance himself to a position of power. Once there...


    His first strike would be done with Samrasa''s blessing. And it would come as a serpent. All he had to do was wait.

 Chapter Eight: The Lens

    The trip back to the palace was largely silent, and the wind was like the spirits of the dead in the air, howling. Nendas kept a careful distance from Ralign''s group, deliberately lagging. He also noticed that Ralign had not thought to escort him there himself. Why?


    Had Ralign assumed Nendas was on his side because he''d helped kill some people Ralign hated? That seemed a strange way of looking at things. Or perhaps Ralign was careless and wanted to boast of his achievements. The man never seemed to think more than one step ahead.


    If he did, he might survive all this.


    "...So, what happens now?" asked Rokas.


    "Now, depending on how things work out, one or all of us may end up crucified," said Nendas. He had no intention of lying to his subordinates when they had the chance to duck and run. This was their chance.


    "Oh, well, that''s pretty bad," said Taha, brown eyes going big with concern.


    "You don''t seem very worried," said Rokas, raising an eyebrow.


    "Eh, life happens, and then you die," said Taha, eyes returning to normal as she tossed a knife into the air. "There isn''t an afterlife, so why worry?"


    "I wish I had your confidence," mused Nendas, who knew otherwise.


    Ralign and Taha were similar, after a fashion. Both seemed to act impulsively and without thinking things through. The difference was one of attachment. Taha''s utter nihilism and disregard for anything of value kept her from being like Ralign. Ralign was genuinely committed to Samrasa and his cause.


    Taha, however, seemed to be wholly indifferent.


    Nendas wondered if she might gain such a level of devotion to him someday if they survived all this. He sincerely doubted it, even if he liked the idea. But, they came to the palace and kept their hands near their weapons. Through the halls, they were led, and finally, into the throne room.


    Before them now sat Samrasa. To Nendas'' surprise, however, he waved off the guards. A sign of trust, but one Nendas wondered at. Was he so overconfident? But then, Samrasa was wearing armor and a sword. Likely he could call on his men soon enough.


    "Well done, Nendas. All of you, well done," said Samrasa. "I must confess, I had my doubts when I heard the Priests of Elranor were leaving peacefully. I was concerned. However, Ralign has seen to that. And you''ve ensured the massacre has only increased our prestige.


    "Even now, rumors are spreading that Elranor is a corrupting Dark Lord. One who hides behind a facade of kindness to consume his subjects. And who is to say it isn''t true if everyone believes it?"


    Nendas shrugged. "I have nothing to be proud of. I simply improvised a solution that I thought would save face."


    "Well, you did a very good job of it," said Samrasa, smiling. "Better still, with the money from the Temple of Elranor, we will be able to equip an entire army. I''ve even now begun making plans for a shipment of weapons and equipment.


    "The money should do a great deal to help with the coming war against Kulat."


    "War?" asked Taha, looking for all the world shocked. She enjoyed playing parts, didn''t she.


    "Yes, their assassination attempt on my person cannot be tolerated," said Samrasa. "I''m told you, young Rokas, are from that land?"


    "I was," said Rokas. "However, I was deemed to have too close a friendship with companions my parents did not approve of. For it, I was disinherited and cast onto the street." Nendas had already heard this.


    Samrasa nodded, and something seemed to pass between them. Was Samrasa feeling genuine sympathy for Rokas? Would it actually affect his actions? Probably not. "Ah, I see. Such problems are common to lands where religious rules are.


    "But you do know the lands of Kulat?"


    "Yes, around my area and some others," said Rokas, adjusting a gauntlet. "I spent my early days traveling all over the region. And after I was cast out, I traveled a great deal with Taha."


    "Do you think you could act as a guide to my forces?" asked Samrasa, leaning forward.


    "I know the names and faces of many members of the nobility and royal court," said Rokas, now looking unsteady. So Samrasa was pressing him to turn on his people, and it was not an offer Rokas could refuse. "Much of my time was spent among them in my early days. I might be able to name those who would be more interested in a peaceful solution."


    Samrasa shook his head and walked away to the center of the throne room. There, Nendas saw the image of a map showing the continent of Asia at the center. All the lands that once belonged to the Empire of Old were there. "No, that won''t be necessary.


    "You see, I have a dream¡ªa dream of a reunited Tarasifian Empire. Long ago, this chaotic realm was once a place of order. This was before Safara, before even the days of Elranor. In that time, Tarasif was not ruled over by a single deity. Rather, it was ruled by a council of wise men who knew to keep their petty squabbles out of running the Empire.


    "It is my goal to see that time return."


    "And how do you plan to do so?" asked Nendas.


    "I have already made great strides," said Samrasa. He stepped upon the stretch of path where Tarasif had stood. "Many petty states have joined Tarasif again, knowing they cannot resist us. Now, however, the time has come to strike at Kulat. It was long the rival of Tarasif, and there was a time when once both were both centers of trade.


    "Now, the two shall become one." Then he looked to Rokas with sympathy. "What happened to you was an injustice. If you serve Tarasif well, I would gladly restore you to your old titles."


    "I would... greatly appreciate that," said Rokas. "However, for the present, I would prefer to remain in the service of Nendas."


    So he hadn''t sold him out the first chance he got. That was comforting; Taha would be less keen to leave without Rokas.


    "Well, you might well do both," said Samrasa with a smile. "Now, perhaps we should discuss the matter of Ralign. Nendas, would you say that Ralign has begun to overstep his boundaries."


    Nendas considered his answer and what he would like to say. And then what he ought to say. Finally, he thought it more intelligent to answer the question by saying nothing at all. "I would not presume to say what his boundaries were."


    Samrasa laughed. "Very nicely spoken. You are more cunning than I took you for among the Haifa.


    "But you know well what I mean. He has become increasingly violent and outrageous in his behavior. What happened recently is only one such incident, and he has become a danger to himself and others.


    "I took him off the street, trained him, gave him everything." He sighed in what seemed like genuine regret. Perhaps it was; Ralign had served Samrasa for a very long time, long enough to be familiar. "Now, I fear, I must destroy him."


    "What do you mean?" asked Nendas.


    "Ralign has absolute faith in me. Perhaps too much," said Samrasa. "His vendetta against the religious has come to a point where he could become a danger to Tarasif. And he and many of his radicals will have to be removed."


    "Is this-" began Rokas, going silent when Nendas shot him a glance. Rokas had to learn to control his emotions; they would be his undoing.


    "Then what must be done," said Nendas. Samrasa was baiting him, offering Nendas the chance at revenge on Ralign. An action that would leave Nendas in direct thrall to Samrasa.


    "My armies will march to war soon," said Samrasa. "When the time comes, I want you to be near him. In war, Ralign often fights personally. I shall arrange for him to be in the worst part of the battle.


    "With luck, he shall die an honorable death, and we need not discuss this any further."


    This was not an offer Nendas could refuse. He did not have the power or ability at this stage to do so. Nendas now walked a path not of his own determining, and he could not go back. If he were to try and break away, Samrasa would know Nendas was not in his thrall. And Samrasa''s belief he had Nendas in his thrall was his only protection.


    If Samrasa believed he controlled Nendas, he could play him off Munsuf. But if Nendas showed signs of disobedience, his last opportunity would be gone. No, the only way forward was to endure this slaves'' march, to let his master think him a fool, and take him unawares later. Killing Ralign would benefit Nendas'' goal. But it would not engender the loyalty Samrasa sought to instill.


    Rokas looked in horror, probably not understanding any of this. "But-"


    "Don''t question the King, Rokas. I''m sure we''re meant to make our own interpretations," said Nendas quickly. How had he been taught nobility? "King Samrasa, may I inquire as to the status of my clan? I have received no word on them?"


    "The Hasafa, of course, remain my loyal subjects," said Samrasa. "So long as they continue to aid Tarasif and it prospers, so will they. As for the... regrettable situation with your brand, there is nothing that can be done at the moment.


    "Continue to distinguish yourself, however, and that may change."


    Nendas nodded. "I would appreciate that."


    "Now, if there is nothing else, I have a meeting to arrange," said Samrasa.


    "There is one thing, if I may," said Taha. "What will happen to the worshippers of Elranor now?"


    "Now?" asked Samrasa. "We shall use the people to pressure them into becoming one of us. I''ve dismantled problematic religions before. This one is only the most recent.


    "We shall not directly persecute them, nor even directly demean them. Rather, we shall make it so nothing good is ever said about them. We''ll network with some of the rival religions and give the temple to one of them. And we shall pressure those who would speak on their behalf to remain silent for the good of the realm.


    "Over time, such actions will erode their will and allow them to be converted. And those who are not converted will at least not be willing to confront us out of shame for Surras'' actions."


    "You mean being murdered?" asked Taha with a wry smile.


    Nendas stared at her and wondered if they''d be crucified. But to his surprise, Samrasa laughed. "Well, murder is simply a matter of perspective and law. And I am the law incarnate as King."


    "We understand, of course," said Nendas. He decided he''d have to do something to distance himself. "...I should tell you that Queen Jaha has been growing distant from the world of late. She begins to wonder if she is even needed."


    And it was true; he felt it. Though not in the way Samrasa took it to mean. Jaha saw all of this, and Nendas also knew she sought retribution. For she was a Goddess of Justice as well as Peace. He wondered if Samrasa even remembered that these days.


    The man did not seem to have any respect for the gods.


    "The fact is noted," said Samrasa.


    At that moment, a servant entered through a side door and approached the King. "Forgive me, King Samrasa. But the page you requested has arrived."


    Samrasa nodded. "Ah, yes, thank you, Danas. If you''ll excuse me."


    He knew the servant''s name? Glancing a little away, Nendas saw a young boy, perhaps ten, in a tunic. Quickly, he bowed, and the three of them left. Coming through the door, they got to safety, and Nendas had a bad feeling about things.


    It was not that Samrasa did not have a heart.


    It was that he never listened to anything it had to say. He could feel sympathy, but he knew no mercy. He could be kind, but only when convenient. He regretted the terrible things that he wanted to be done. But it never stopped him from doing them again.


    The page clicked in Nendas'' mind, bothering him. He was missing something, and he remembered Rokas'' story. And how Samrasa had seemed to feel some sort of kinship.


    "...Shouldn''t the page have some writing equipment?"


    "Ignorance is bliss, huh, Nendas?" asked Taha with a laugh. Then she put a hand on his shoulder.


    King Samrasa was a homosexual. And so was Rokas.


    The pieces fell into place.


    "You don''t mean..." Nendas halted. That was why Rokas had been cast out. By all accounts, he had been a loyal companion. He was a touch naive but dutiful, and he was clearly skilled. With such a nature, why would any Lord throw their own flesh and blood onto the street?


    Because something had been wrong with the flesh, the festering arm was cut off if it could not be healed. Anger well within Nendas, but he knew not to make any scene over this. "You overstep yourself, Taha. He is the King."


    "I didn''t say anything," said Taha with a smirk,


    "Good," said Nendas. "It''s absurd anyway, not worth dwelling on. There are a dozen people being crucified outside for that very sin."


    "Of course it is," said Taha.


    Nendas ignored her and looked to Rokas. "Rokas, I trust all three of us to understand that we cannot afford any deviancy. Any action we take could very easily see us put on the cross.


    "Your actions reflect on me and Taha.


    "We must be paragons of virtue insofar as we are capable."


    "I understand," said Rokas. "I will not fail you."


    "Good," said Nendas.


    Then they didn''t need to discuss this any further.


    Honestly, Nendas didn''t even care at this point. They all might die before it became a problem. And they were going to war soon anyway.


    "Taha," said Nendas. "Lead us to the apartments."


    Taha nodded. "Follow me."


    And on they walked.


    As they did, Rokas kept looking at Nendas. Eventually, they got to the apartment, an inexpensive place that Taha had checked out. It was a large, two-story building with a variety of rooms, all facing the open air. They were designed for the merchants who came in from Dinis over the river or from Kulat and even as far as Themious. Each room was clean but of bare wood, and everything but the bare minimum had to be bought.


    Even so, it was a very reasonable price, especially when Nendas refused to buy anything to spruce the place up. What? So he was supposed to pay money to make his house a pleasant place to live?


    Then, Rokas spoke up. "Why did you say that, Nendas? About giving up your status as the Avatar of Jaha?"


    "What else was I supposed to say?" asked Nendas, noting a city guard patrolling down a street. You could see several street cleaners at work as well.


    "But you''re Jaha''s Avatar," said Rokas. "Surely you cannot simply discard such a bond with a deity by the authority of a king."


    "It''s liable to get us all killed," said Nendas. "And anyway, I have to hear her in my mind constantly. It never stops, and the more I do what I have to, the worse it gets." He was making excuses now for denying her. But the act itself was valuable. It created a public perception that his devotion was wavering.


    "Surely you should take that as a sign, then, Nendas," said Rokas.


    "A sign for what?" asked Nendas, choosing to play the part. "To do what?"


    There was silence.


    "Nendas is right, Rokas," said Taha.


    "But..." Rokas paused.


    "Listen, if we stick with Samrasa, we might get back everything you two lost," said Taha. "You could become very important people. On the other hand, if we start making trouble, we''re as good as dead.


    "Now, no matter what we do, we need to get into King Samrasa''s good graces. And you two are the key to doing that."


    "We could still leave," noted Rokas.


    "And go where?" asked Nendas. "To become vagabonds on the road? And leave my father unavenged? Shall I abandon my nation and the duties of my clan? And also abandon Jaha as well."


    "You are trying to leave her service," said Rokas. "You might pretend otherwise, but you are."


    "I should have never been given her service," said Nendas. "It was a mistake my uncle manipulated me into to get me out of the way." Except Nendas had suspected as much from the beginning, hadn''t he? "I... I should never have taken this brand.


    "But now I have it, and I have to get rid of it and have someone else take it."


    It seemed such a long way from here.


    "Focus people," said Taha. "Jaha''s not real. So she''s not the problem.


    "The problem is you not having property rights and your father''s being dead. Now, the first question is, how can you get back your rights? Second question, how can you find out who killed your father?"


    "I..." Nendas tried to reassess his plans here. "Serving Samrasa could allow me to restore my rights. As for the assassin? It was probably Samrasa or my Uncle."


    "How can you say that?" asked Rokas.


    "...That''s pretty cynical," said Taha, seeming interested.


    "The religions did not benefit from the action at all," said Nendas. "And Zeya is a Goddess of Heroes. She wouldn''t strike down someone with lightning as a reward, let alone on behalf of Elranor. However, she commonly strikes down people with lightning who insult the gods."


    "That don''t exist," said Taha.


    "Are you still-" Nendas calmed himself. "My point is, a layman who knows almost nothing about the Goddess Zeya might believe such a lie. Or he might believe that Elranor is the one who sent the lightning bolt. But it seems obvious to me that it was struck in response to attempting to frame a god for murder.


    "So the only question is; Who benefits?"


    Silence.


    "So, Samrasa?" asked Taha.


    "Yes," said Nendas. "Or perhaps Ralign or one of his other subordinates. However, I find it unlikely Ralign would be capable of this kind of manipulation. Perhaps he might have hired the murderer, but he wouldn''t be able to cover it up so effectively.


    "Uncle isn''t here; however, he is a close confidant of King Samrasa. And he stands to gain from Father''s death. Father might have had enough pull to restore my status.


    "My guess is that King Samrasa got Father to undertake negotiations as a pretense. One meant to get him into Tarasif. He did this on behalf of Uncle and used Ralign as his instrument. Once done, he attempted to discredit me by having me avenge myself on the Temple of Elranor. When I proved useful and adept enough to avoid the trap, he started grooming me to replace Ralign.


    "Now, he is offering the false hope of a restored status while demonizing Uncle. I would guess he wants Uncle dead and replaced. Likely he desires to shift him out for a competent alternative. Uncle is only useful for destroying his own clan and worthless for anything else.


    "If Samrasa wants to salvage the Hasafa Clan, he''ll need to put someone loyal in Uncle''s place. Playing me against my Uncle is thus the logical tactic. Though I suspect he is keeping his options open at the moment." Assuming Samrasa was going to salvage the Husafa Clan and not just let Munsuf run it into the ground.


    "So what are we going to do about this?" asked Taha.


    "Nothing, for now," said Nendas.


    "Nothing?" asked Rokas. "He murdered your Father!"


    "I''m the Avatar of Jaha, Rokas," said Nendas. "Even if I don''t want to be, I still must fulfill my obligations. I can''t go on a vengeance-driven rampage because my soul is not my own. Even if I could, what am I supposed to do? Kill King Samrasa, cut down Ralign, flee the city, then kill my Uncle?"


    "Yes," said Rokas.


    Taha blinked. "That''s pretty ruthless of you."


    "He killed your Father, Nendas," said Rokas.


    "So?" asked Taha. "Are you saying you wouldn''t kill your father if given half a chance, Rokas? He threw you out on the street and replaced you with your younger brother."


    "No, I wouldn''t. I am his flesh and blood," said Rokas.


    "So what?" asked Taha. "Explain to me why it''s less wicked to murder a stranger who''s never done you any wrong. As opposed to the parents who disinherited you for nothing? Especially since that wasn''t even your fault. Killing a person is killing a person.


    "It doesn''t matter whether they''re a man, woman, or child. In the end, we all descend from dust, and we''ll return to it soon enough."


    "Are you saying that you''d kill your parents if they hurt you?" asked Nendas, feeling a sense of horror.


    "No," said Taha. "But they didn''t get the chance. I ditched them years ago. My parents were commoners, not worth remembering. They spent their lives in desperation, chasing the favor of a Lord who could kill them on a whim. All in the hope they might make a political marriage they would never reap the benefits of.


    "I was going to be married off to some guy I''d never even met to benefit some hypothetical future generation. That was my purpose for existence. The one that the ''gods'' had chosen me for.


    "The universe had ordained me for a life of humiliation, suffering, and subjugation. So I told it to go to hell and burned the house behind me."


    "You said that you could have lived a ''good'' life if you''d gone along with it," said Nendas, noting a contradiction. "You also said you had many sisters who could have taken your place. How did the universe ordain you to anything you describe?"


    "Eh, maybe," said Taha. "Sometimes, I remember my life as a soul-crushing paradise. Other times as hell I was forced to escape from? Which do you prefer? I''ll pick that as a backstory."


    "The truth would be nice," said Nendas.


    "There''s no true reality, Nendas. We might as well be words on a page," said Taha. "Even if two people read the same page, they''ll derive two different meanings. And then they''ll forget about us just as quickly.


    "You may remember your father being assassinated, but maybe you remember it wrong. Maybe he never existed, and I made you with false memory from the clay of the earth. Or perhaps the father you remember is all in your head, and he and Samrasa are the same.


    "Perhaps you''ll wake up tomorrow, and none of this will have happened at all.


    "Memory is useless as a guide to history. It changes as much as the present and future.


    "Either way, how I remember it turned out like this; I ditched town to join up with a convey of monks. I don''t even remember who they were, but they were heading to Tarasif. I learned everything they had to teach me, and then I found a more interesting crowd.


    "And you should be very glad I didn''t, Rokas.


    "If I hadn''t thrown away my plow and abandoned my family, you''d have starved on the street. It wasn''t like any temples were willing to accept you in all their benevolent charity. Your brother had turned you into a pariah and spread the news of that incident far and wide. If my family had treated me like yours, I''d have burned the house down on my way out. After I slit their throats."


    "You''d kill your own family?" asked Rokas.


    "If someone hurts you, you must hurt them back," said Taha. "That''s why we''re going to war with Kulat. They tried to assassinate Samrasa, and he couldn''t sit idly by and let it happen. Allowing yourself to be injured without reprisal sets a precedent. One that people can walk all over you.


    "Would people have invented swords if they didn''t need to be used now and then?


    "And anyway, who are you to talk about revenge on family members being wrong? You just said we ought to seek revenge on Nendas'' uncle?"


    "...An uncle is less closely related to you than a father," said Rokas.


    "That''s incredibly weak, you know that, right," said Taha. "I guess you could argue his uncle is a terrible person. But if you can justify killing an uncle, what about a sister? Or a father or mother? Or a god or goddess. Or a friend. Or even someone you don''t know and aren''t related to. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You can''t have it both ways, Rokas. Either all life is sacred. Or all life is worthless.


    "And seeing as we''re both in the business of killing for money, it''d be hypocritical to call it sacred."


    "We have not worked as mercenaries before, Taha," said Rokas, concerned. "You were using your knife-throwing skills to make a profit, and I was your assistant. We were entertainers."


    Taha blinked. "Oh, oh, that''s right. We did show in Kulat to show off my knife skills. I''d forgotten. I remember things one way, sometimes another.


    "I guess I got a bit caught up in the moment there. I kind of define myself by what is happening now. The past and future are slaves to now, after all."


    "How so?" asked Nendas.


    "Well, what we write down defines what people have as history. Learning from history is how the world advances," said Taha. "If you could learn to write up history to achieve what you wanted and then destroy all other histories, you''d be God. You would be able to make irrelevant all aspects of the past that were not to your liking.


    "And you''d be able to determine the entire course of history after your own death.


    "All you''d need is enough knowledge and the power to enforce your will."


    "And what do you believe in?" asked Nendas. "Past all these words?"


    "Me?" asked Taha. "I don''t care. I could try to take over the world or become a god, but why bother? Putting down the rebellions wouldn''t be worth the hassle. And I''d have to run this place. I ran away from home to escape personal responsibility.


    "I guess I could try rigging history so I define all future events. But why go to the trouble, really? Even if I did write every undesirable piece of history out of existence, how would I benefit? I would still know that the past I created was false, and I''d have to live a lie my entire life. And as for the future, I''m not going to be around for the future.


    "Why should I care what happens in it?"


    "Then why go to all this trouble, though?" asked Nendas.


    "Philosophy is fun to dabble in, but it''s all fake in the end," said Taha. "It has no relevance whatsoever to what I do here and now. See, the gods aren''t real; nature is all there is. Without a higher power, who determines what is right and wrong?


    "We do.


    "I can say that a given line of thought is more rational than another. But what do I mean by rational? If there is no underlying moral reality to adhere to, then my standard is self-imposed. The only source of legitimacy for whatever code I live by is my approval of it.


    "That makes me God. My perception of reality is the only way reality can be gauged. History books and possible futures are only distractions from what is real. Me¡ªmy own actions and beliefs and thoughts, these things are real.


    "And since I''m God, I determine good and evil. I can do whatever I want."


    "But people would stop you," said Rokas.


    "Well, obviously!" laughed Taha. "Nobody can live as if their word is the source of all moral authority. You''d be dead in a few hours, and that would disprove your godhood pretty quick. That''s why religion exists; people want some outside source of structure in their life. Most people don''t have time to create their own moral framework.


    "It''s understandable that some people want to continue buying into the lie that is the Gods. And who am I to call it wrong? There is no such thing as sin, after all, because sin is a parasite that feeds on morality. And morality is nothing more than a figment of my imagination."


    "That''s not true," said Nendas.


    Taha paused. "Hmm?"


    "Let us accept that I am god," said Nendas. "If so, then there is a sin that remains. That sin would be to act contrary to my own nature."


    "How do you figure?" asked Taha.


    "If I have proclaimed theft to be wrong, but I steal, then I am acting in defiance of a divine mandate," said Nendas. "My own, perhaps, but that only makes the sin worse. For I have created rules by which I judge others but refuse to be bound by them myself."


    "Yes, but those rules don''t really exist," said Taha. "They are just something you imagined. In bare physical terms, there is no difference between a good act and an evil one. Yes, different acts lead to different reactions.


    "And maybe you could argue that there is an optimal way to create a society. But even if you did create a society of enlightened pragmatism, it doesn''t really matter. Codes of conduct are based on your actions having meaning. Why is starving to death in a pile of corpses worse in any way than living a long, prosperous life?


    "Is happiness the only goal in life?


    "What if someone gains joy from committing horrible actions? If they live their lives slaughtering innocent people, have they lived a ''good ''life? If they enjoyed it and were happy, then they did. If someone spends their life helping others but is miserable the entire time, is that a ''bad'' one?


    "But it doesn''t matter.


    "Because none of us are real."


    "What are you talking about?" asked Nendas. "How can you say that? You see me right here."


    "Do I?" asked Taha. "Maybe you just imagine me, Nendas. Maybe this entire adventure we''ve been on is all a figment of imagination."


    "Well," said Nendas. "I can be sure I exist."


    "Oh really?" asked Taha. "Are you sure? Maybe what you think are your thoughts are someone else''s thought processes. Maybe Nendas is a cipher by which the real thing that exists is observing us. And we are, in reality, all based on our perceptions.


    "So what you think is you is someone else pretending to be you, so it can observe different aspects of itself. Maybe the only thing we can aspire to do, in the end, is put on a show."


    "That''s why you decided to join up with civilization," said Rokas, suddenly amused. "You wanted someone to discuss philosophy with."


    "Where are you going with this, Taha?" asked Nendas.


    "I''m not going anywhere with anything," said Taha. "Look, your father is dead. But it doesn''t matter because he never existed. Reuniting with him might be as simple as the person observing through you flipping back a few pages. And that''s out of your control.


    "Do what you want to do, Nendas, and don''t concern yourself with anyone else.


    "If you think you have a moral obligation to hunt down the killer of your father, do it. If you want to destroy all religions, becoming a fanatical servant of Samrasa, go ahead. If you want to drink yourself into oblivion, that''s fine too.


    "Maybe you''re only going to do those things because you''ve been preordained for them. Or you''ve made a choice yourself. Or you preordained them for yourself before the book even started.


    "Either way, it doesn''t matter at all.


    "People die.


    "Don''t mourn them because they never existed in the first place. And neither do you."*


    Nendas considered this line of argument and found it... invigorating in a hopeless sort of manner. He thought about his life and realized he''d never thought about what he wanted to do. "I want to avenge my father and bring glory to Tarasif."


    "Done, let''s do that," said Taha. "Sounds fun. I''ve got nothing better to do."


    "It doesn''t matter anyway," said Nendas. "We are not doing this plan you propose, Rokas.


    "Even if we succeeded at that, what would the result be? Samrasa has no heir. Tarasif would be leaderless and descend into civil war. The Hasafa Clan would disown me, and we''d probably all be executed.


    "War with Kulat would come anyway, and we''d all end up dead. Our names would be black marks on history.


    "And what would we gain out of it in the end?"


    "So what will you do?" asked Rokas.


    "Play along, for the moment," said Nendas. "Ralign, at least, I can gain vengeance on. Once I''ve restored myself to my old status... I will have options. I may be able to consider alternatives to blind obedience. For now, however, we have to lie still and play the role of obedient and easily manipulated servants."


    "What does Jaha tell you to do?" asked Taha.


    "Does it really matter at this point?" said Nendas. "I''m going to have to bury my father. And I don''t care if he never existed, Taha. I intend to give my due to the dead."


    "Do what you want," said Taha.


    These discussions with Taha were... interesting. And thinking about them helped Nendas ignore the pain he felt. And the knowledge that Father was dead.


    *The astute reader will realize at this point that Taha is completely insane.


    Ironically she is also correct. I am making observations about my projections of Tanith''s interpretation of Taha. One that is further distorted through the lens of previous writers. Given that there are certainly inaccuracies, ''Taha'' as I know her does not exist beyond the page. Such a line of thought is dangerous, however.


    Where does it end? You are reading my observations of a compilation of a translation of a history textbook. One that may or may not be accurate. From this, you might conclude that you have some understanding of me.


    But is that understanding even your own? Or something someone else has put into your mind? Maybe by reading into this book, you and I are being written by those on the page.


    Existence could be defined as ones'' ability to influence the world. If so, the Taha portrayed here is as real as the one who she was based on. Thoughts inform action, and what you read affects your thoughts.


    If you want to understand a culture, learn their mythology.

 Chapter Nine: Supply Lines

    Months later, the invasion of Kulat had begun.


    The justification had been an assassination, along with several other convenient attacks. These attacks could have been better executed and easily defeated. No prisoners were taken to tell any story other than what Samrasa wanted them to say.


    Declaring war went very well indeed as well. People seemed enthusiastic about adding Kulat to the empire. It would be a great triumph for them. Nendas kept getting the urge to intervene and stop it.


    But every time, he asked Jaha exactly what she wanted him to do. Samrasa wanted a war and was powerful enough to pursue it. At best, Nendas could convince him to delay it, and that could destroy him. He did try sending letters to Uncle but got no response at all. Nendas hoped this was because Uncle had some plan that required a lack of communication.


    In all likelihood, it was probably that he was not reading them.


    In fact, when the Hasafa Clan''s troops arrived, there was bad news. It seemed things had all stopped running nearly as well since Father left. Uncle usually delegated things to him, and now that he had to do them himself, he was... inferior. Father had put things in place well enough so they could run themselves. But they would eventually need a leader.


    Sarafi had tried to fill the place, but she was young, inexperienced, and needed more real legitimacy. She could sit in on meetings to represent the leadership when Munsuf was sleeping or drunk. But she could not speak with authority. He could only give approval to decisions made by her advisors.


    Fortunately, Vandias had put in place competent advisors. So disaster was averted for now. Nendas had hoped, even expected, to be called in to fill in. Uncle would need someone there to avoid the place falling apart. However, Uncle made no attempt at communication.


    Soon Nendas began to suspect he was being avoided and ostracized. Letters exchanged with other family members, however, told a worse story. Uncle held lavish festivals and parties often, the sort of thing Father had always reigned in. Word also came that he had forbidden many members of the Hasafa Clan from entering the war.


    Instead, he gave them positions of influence handed by Samrasa. This gave a bad reputation if you spoke to most. Nendas often found himself having to mount a defense for a clan he was technically no longer a part of. All he was able to say, in the end, was that Jaha had chosen to use different agents than the Hasafa to prove her power.


    Privately, Nendas began to suspect what should have been obvious from the start. Uncle was simply a hedonistic coward. He did not want to go to war, nor did he have the resolve to take up any manful deed. His only goal was to lead a life of luxury where everyone fawned at his feet. But he knew that if other members of his clan gained great power, he could lose that.


    Head of the Clan, he might be, but accidents could happen.


    So Uncle was not merely content to cower in a palace but also insisted that all of his relatives do the same. Lest one gains enough power to remove him. And only the terror of being disposed of himself could get him to loosen his grip.


    Samrasa must have known that as well. He''d counted on it.


    It was a trap, of course. Samrasa would arouse the jealousy of other houses toward the Hasafa. All while denying them glory in battle. Then when the war was done, he would dispose of them as he had the worshippers of Elranor. Nendas even risked writing a letter to Uncle saying this, in vague terms, and then to Sarafi.


    That had scared him enough to take action, and Hasafa Clans were allowed to join the battle. Though some still took positions of influence, many more went into support roles. Uncle did not allow them to join the main battlefront. But they were dispatched to garrisons and sent to guard the border. Oftentimes bandits came out of the woods when the King was away, after all.


    All things considered, war was almost a relief. Justice, after all, was the other quality of Jaha.


    Nendas was eager to prove the valor of the Hasafa to whom he did not belong. And it got on well at first. Samrasa met the enemy in battle on the border. Ralign proved himself here.


    They led the charge himself. Nendas and Rokas were with him on either side.


    They shattered the enemy lines and drove them in. Many were killed, while others fled. Yet, the victory was not complete.


    The Kulatian horsemen, under the command of the Prince Suruf of Kulat, were able to cover the retreat. The armies of Tarasif sought to pursue. But that was thwarted when the Kulatian horsemen, in turn, went to harass their supply lines. By the time the way was secure, the enemy had escaped and drew up fresh forces.


    Taha had not directly participated in the fighting. Nendas had her act as a messenger and watchman. And also a companion now and then. Often they would discuss philosophy and the nature of reality in the waning hours of the night. Sometimes they had an audience interested to hear the discussions.


    But the campaign, after this, slowed to a crawl. Several skirmishes ensued between Samrasa and Prince Suruf. Each one saw the infantry of Tarasif break their Kulatian counterparts. However, the horsemen would often see their flanks. Kulatian archers are better than their Tarasifian counterparts. Of course, Tarasif had numbers and plenty more where that came from. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    However, the swift victory Samrasa had hoped for never materialized. The open fields of Kulat were an ideal place for horsemen to ride. And as Samrasa gained ground, Kulat began to outflank his armies and strike at his long supply chain. A spell of miserable weather then ensued. It consisted of vast downpours, which shouldn''t have happened this time of year.


    Samrasa became irritable. Ralign was sent out on several very dangerous assignments and came back victorious. He fought atop a hill surrounded by enemy forces five times his number and won at one time. Nendas, Rokas, and Taha had been in that battle and done very well within it, but Ralign had proven a deadly warrior. Nendas had seen a chance to get him in the back but disregarded the move as suicide.


    Fortunately, Samrasa seemed too pleased by the victory to be upset. Nendas suspected Samrasa did not want to take responsibility for the murder himself. It would be less weight on his mind if Ralign conveniently died without his orders.


    Nendas feigned obliviousness and cited that he was waiting for orders. That got him off the hook.


    Jaha felt sympathy for Ralign. Nendas did not.*


    One day, Nendas was walking through the camp when, by chance, he saw Lord Munsuf from afar. He had refused to go to the battlefront at all, assigning his clan to support roles and not taking any part. However, outrage at his absence had been steadily growing. So it appeared that he felt obligated to finally join the war.


    The armor did not suit him, and not in the way it didn''t suit the green recruit guarding him. The one was inexperienced but resolved to do his best. The other, Uncle, had plenty of experience in all the wrong pursuits. He had come to his rightful place as an unwanted chore, and he looked irritable.


    He was also fatter, having put on more weight since Nendas had seen him.


    Then Uncle saw him, and the second he did, his face went cold and furious. Then he checked himself and pretended not to have seen him. Then he moved into King Samrasa''s tent.


    A chance encounter.


    But telling.


    Nendas smiled. And he realized that news of his deeds had forced this unpleasantness on Lord Munsuf. No doubt the Hasafa would join the battle properly. Munsuf could not restrain them and go himself any more than he could cower and let them go.


    Even so, Nendas decided to get out of the main army. Samrasa might look for a target to take out his anger on. And Uncle hated and feared Nendas if his reaction was any indication. The two were very close if the talk was anything. Though what Samrasa saw in Uncle was beyond him.


    And that was why he went to Ralign.


    "You want to guard the supply lines?" asked Ralign, polishing his axe. "There''s no glory in that."


    "Someone has to do it," said Nendas, who had learned to keep his hatred for the man in check. "And I don''t seem to serve much purpose here. Moreover, I''m beginning to think I am attracting poor attention from my Uncle."


    "Well, we are in need of someone good for that job," muttered Ralign. "Almost none of the nobles want it. I''d handle it myself, but the King has a lot of assignments he can''t give to anyone but me.


    "I could arrange for the position, but you''ll find it even more miserable than here. Guarding merchants will win you no glory, and if things go badly enough, everyone will blame you for it."


    "The way things are going now, I''m concerned that may happen anyway," admitted Nendas. "My Uncle seems to have become disenchanted with me. And he has King Samrasa''s ear."


    "Fair enough," said Ralign with a knowing laugh. "I wouldn''t worry; he''ll fall from grace soon enough. King Samrasa is practical in setting up his alliances. He needs him for something now; once he doesn''t need him, he''ll focus on something else."


    Why did Ralign think he was exempt from that same use and disposal process? Because he had been with Samrasa a long time? So had the Hasafa. Was it friendship? No, Ralign wasn''t equal to Samrasa by any means. He was simply loyal, completely and utterly to Samrasa.


    And Samrasa was betraying that loyalty.


    Samrasa would use Nendas to destroy Ralign and then destroy the Hasafa Clan in turn. Likely, he already had his real replacement lined up somewhere else. But would the person Samrasa replaced Ralign with really be as loyal or as powerful? Nendas found it very unlikely.


    They''d be young, and Samrasa was not the same man he''d once been. This kind of behavior would have been unthinkable for him once. A man who behaved in this fashion would have never taken power. Samrasa would not be able to find someone as loyal and effective as Ralign.


    And for what? So Samrasa could justify destroying the Hasafa Clan? They had been loyal and sympathetic to his ideology. At least before he corrupted Munsuf?


    How would that benefit Samrasa?


    It would leave him without his best subordinate, with the surviving Hasafa out for blood. Not to mention the other nobles'' families were paranoid. And Samrasa was getting on in years; he''d need a right hand to help him.


    Who could that subordinate be? A creature like Munsuf? He was completely worthless for anything but weakening a rival? A social climber like Taha? She''d sell Samrasa up the river and take power when they saw the way the wind was blowing. Someone with genuine loyalty to Tarasif? They could be swayed against him. A member of a noble family? They''d put their own people in place and sideline him.


    What someone like Rokas? Who had no other options but advancement through a benefactor but was moral and loyal.


    An outsider with a sense of honor who would do a day''s work for a day''s pay? A mercenary with a sense of professional pride. Perhaps that could work, but mercenaries were unreliable. The person Samrasa needed in the aftermath of killing Ralign was Ralign himself. An accomplished enforcer with absolute loyalty to Samrasa.


    So why kill Ralign in the first place? Why kill Father?


    There was no need for any of this.


    No wonder Jaha had taken no direct action against Samrasa so far. She didn''t need to. He was ripping his empire into shreds. Every action Samrasa had taken had alienated allies. They had weakened his power and made him less secure.


    Father had been completely loyal to Munsuf. Ralign could have been reigned in with a few harsh words.


    His own evil deeds would consume him soon enough.


    The only question left was why?


    Then it dawned on Nendas. The problem was Munsuf.


    Samrasa was not a fool, and he had many great victories. He might have feared the Hasafa Clan but would not have risked civil war in open confrontation. Munsuf, however, had provided him with an opportunity. The man''s refusal to adhere to his responsibilities had given Samrasa his chance.


    It was the opportunity to remove a dangerous rival.


    Samrasa had come to power in some of the most vicious courts intrigues in Tarasif''s history. Playing the game had been second nature to him. Just as Ralign did not feel at home in peace, perhaps Samrasa was not at home with security. He was likely looking for some plot at all times, and he was right to do so.


    Just as Samrasa had corrupted Munsuf, so too had Munsuf corrupted Samrasa. Samrasa had not regarded Munsuf as a threat. But he had not considered the threat posed by using Munsuf as a tool.


    Nendas considered what the plan here had been.


    Uncle had wanted Nendas to become the Avatar of Jaha in Sarafi''s place. If that had happened, Nendas would have been tied down as an advisor to Munsuf. It would have damaged the mystique of Jaha, and Samrasa would have had his puppet.


    But Munsuf had bungled the whole thing, hadn''t he? Nendas had argued against marrying Sarafi on principle. If Munsuf had just put his foot and told Nendas to know his place, the plan would have gone perfectly. But Munsuf only accepted this plan because he hated doing work and those who did it for him.


    So he''d only gotten Nendas made Avatar of Jaha without the traditional marriage. Suddenly, Nendas was the Avatar of a God and a warrior with no official connection to the Hasafa. And Samrasa had just set his Father up to be murdered. So Samrasa compensated for Munsuf''s failures. He took Nendas into his entourage. He had led them here with everyone plotting against each other.


    Nendas found himself in awe. Munsuf had destroyed decades of careful planning with only a bit of malice apathy. Yes, Samrasa had bad intentions, but he might never have acted on them if the Hasafa Clan had stood ready to stop him. Tarasif might be burned to the ground because of the wretched creature.


    But it did not really matter in the end. Nendas had to do what he could to keep the situation in control, and the first step to that was winning this war.


    And that was how Nendas, Taha, and Rokas had gotten here to this well-paved road. A relic of the Old Sarafian Empire, it remained in perfect order even now.


    The caravan moved slowly but surely along the path. Nendas walked alongside it while Taha sat cross-legged on top. Her knives were laid out before her on the wagon as she stood as a lookout. They''d driven off several attempts to waylay several such caravans.


    Invariably, Taha would hear them coming on the winds. Rokas knew all the best places to defend, so they fought and won a series of skirmishes.


    "Two months," said Nendas suddenly.


    "Hmm?" asked Taha, looking up.


    "We''ve been at this task for two months now. We have been guarding caravans while King Samrasa fights his battle," said Nendas. "He''s taken three cities and conquered dozens of villages. The banner of the King has been cheered by some and is a source of terror for many.


    "It seems like it only happened a few days ago. The funeral, I mean." Nendas still remembered the sight of his father being consumed in flames. Samrasa had made a martyr of him against the Gods. Speeches were made in the streets, condemning the insurgents for misusing their faith.


    At the same time, Nendas, Taha, and Rokas were raised as heroes. Positive examples of what people ought to be. And Nendas simply remained silent and let people think whatever they wanted. To do otherwise would endanger himself.


    Which was the real trick.


    Samrasa almost never directly condemned a religion. Rather, he would have his minions make scathing commentary. They would condemn every crime committed by the religious. Each and everyone would be exaggerated. Then, in order to prevent people from accusing him of persecution, he made role models.


    Nendas, Taha, and Rokas were paragons of a sort.


    Nendas was a ''good'' religious person who did not allow his faith to interfere with his actions. Rokas was the ''good'' Kulatian who had come over to Tarasif''s side. They were paragons of what Samrasa regarded as the ideal religious citizen. Someone who claimed to be religious. But they would never let their religion influence their actions.


    But such religion was nothing but a worthless facade. Faith that did not influence your actions was but a lie¡ªthe sort the Urishia had always used.


    What did that make Taha? The ''good'' non-religious citizen? Surely not. If every person in the world were like Taha, society would collapse. Parents would abandon their children, and the old would be treated with contempt.


    No, Taha was the representative of an ideal.


    She was Samrasa''s ideology, after a fashion.


    "Well, the dead don''t exactly keep in touch," said Taha after a moment.


    Paragons or now, however, Taha, Nendas, and Rokas had been sent to the caravans. The ones'' that carried supplies.


    Nendas and Taha''s debates had begun to attract audiences, of course. He''d seen them looking at the two. Even so, Taha seemed oddly contemplative now. "Have I ever told you what happened to my village? I remember looking out from a rooftop when dozens of riders came over the dunes. All the militia were called up with their spears, and everyone was terrified.


    "But I was excited.


    "I remember watching as the gates were smashed open and spear-to-spear combat began. Some of the enemies slipped past our main defense and started looting. It was the most exciting thing I''d ever seen."


    "So what happened?" asked Nendas.


    "Oh, we won," said Taha. "The Lord arrived, and we killed off the raiders. Their leader got off, though; he was a noble, so he got special treatment. They didn''t even get to my house. Hardly anyone died.


    "It was very disappointing."


    "What were you hoping for?" asked Nendas, well used to this kind of inverse. Taha existed as a mirror to everything his society representative.


    "I don''t know," admitted Taha. "Being kidnapped by a dashing rogue with plans of revenge? Having my village burned down except me, so I''d have to plan revenge? Some sort of change in my life.


    "But, the only damages were swiftly repaired. I wasn''t expected to help with the repairs, and when I offered to, I was firmly declined.


    "I wanted adventure and excitement, for my existence to have meaning. I spent years toiling dutifully, just waiting for the call to adventure. I am waiting for someone to give me purpose and meaning for a mysterious stranger to ask for my help.


    "I waited for the call. But the call never came."


    "Is our present situation to your liking?" asked Nendas, who had been hoping to see direct combat.


    Taha smiled. "Oh, definitely.


    "I''d much rather guard caravans than fight on the front lines."


    "You may speak for yourself, Taha," said Rokas. "When I joined the King''s entourage, this is not how I hoped to spend my time. We won great glory on the battle field earlier; I wish we could have had more battles like that."


    "You were a very good guide for the first few weeks, Rokas," said Taha. "Samrasa just found others who could fill the role. So he gave you a position of greater responsibility.


    "Just be glad we''re doing supply train duty. It''s a lot safer this way."


    "Perhaps, but there is little glory to be had ferrying supplies," said Rokas.


    "I have no interest in glory. And inglorious jobs are often the most important," said Nendas. "If this shipment does not arrive, King Samrasa''s army may run low on food. If he runs low on food, our army will go hungry. If they are hungry, they won''t fight well. If they don''t fight well, we lose this war.


    "And if that happens, Tarasif will probably be sacked." The Avatar of Jaha was more suited to support roles anyway.


    "It might have been given to others if you and Taha hadn''t been debating philosophy," said Rokas.


    "It''s not my fault we attracted an audience," said Taha. "And anyway, I don''t see why Samrasa had a problem with it. His ideals are winning."


    "No, they weren''t," said Nendas, looking at some of the guards. "And even if they were, Tarasif as a whole would have lost the debate."


    "What do you mean?" asked Taha.


    "Not again," muttered the caravan master.


    "Taha, your ideology is one of absolute nihilism," said Nendas. "In your mind, nothing has any value save what we put into it. If, indeed, we can put any value into a thing. You have taken the ideals of King Samrasa to a logical extreme. One that, if brought into full flower, would destroy all creation.


    "A son could murder his father and mother and be as morally pure as a saint.


    "However, the ideals of the Gods are likewise extreme. No one deity''s ideals can be allowed to remain unchecked. Peace, if allowed to reach its zenith, will become stagnant. That will cause a collapse into far greater chaos. Healing, if focused on above all else, will lead to altering things that need no change. A fast breeze can be a miracle to men but turned into a hurricane; it destroys everything."


    "What''s your point?" asked Rokas.


    "King Samrasa is the King," said Nendas. "His purpose is to act as a divine mediator between the deities. He rules with their blessing, and in turn, he ensures that their temples are protected. Sometimes, there is a conflict between god and mortal, and King Samrasa must take sides.


    "It is a similar position to my own. Just not aligned with any specific religion."


    "So, how does that mean Samrasa would lose if you were to win such a debate?" asked Taha.


    "''Winning'' in this situation would require proving one ideal to be true," said Nendas. "If an idea were to be proven absolute, then all other ideals would simply be pale shadows. Things that take from the perfect idea and create a mockery.


    "In which case, all other religions would be wrong, and avatars would be a moot point."


    Of course, Nendas wanted to say that King Samrasa derived authority from gods. If Taha was victorious, then King Samrasa had no authority as King. If Nendas had proven Taha wrong, then Samrasa was a rebel against the rightful rulers of Tarasif. Only by the continued conflict between the two ideals could he have any authority at all.


    But one could not say such things without being executed.


    Nendas decided to change the subject. "Taha, do you see anything?"


    "Actually, yes," said Taha. "I can hear on the winds about... thirty horsemen coming toward us from the north. Heavy armor, lots of swords based on how the wind cuts them."


    Nendas motioned to his men before pointing north and reforming. Their spears were readied, and they held themselves in check.


    "How can you tell in such detail?" asked Rokas, who drew up a spear.


    "It''s all about wind currents," said Taha. "You feel the wind and match it against the scent. You cannot describe it, but anyone can do it if they learn the knack."


    "Form up," said Nendas. "Be prepared to repel them when they come. When they appear, we''ll lock our shields and repel them. Stand your ground, and they may be repulsed. Run, and they''ll cut you down as you flee.


    "In the name of Jaha, die before you yield," Then he planted his own spear.


    "I''ve heard rumors," said a man. "Of a troop of horsemen who raid our supplies. They slaughter everyone they lay hands on."


    "Well then," said Taha. "I guess we''d better kill them first. Nendas, I''m going to throw knives as per usual."


    Nendas heard them.


    The hoofbeats.


    Horses were not a common thing in Tarasif; you rarely saw them. Nor were they in Kulat until a few decades ago. The King had chosen to introduce horsemen to flank his enemy. Kulat had been a menace, and several other caravans had been intercepted.


    And then they came.


    Nendas had never seen a horse before now, but the sheer scale of the beasts was breathtaking. There were thirty of them, all larger than a man, and each one with an armored soldier on it. The ground shook beneath their coming as the men wavered.


    "Stand your ground!" said Nendas. "Lower your spears! Taha, if any one of these men turns their back, kill them immediately!"


    That steadied them. The armor they bore did not extend to their backs. They knew perfectly well that if they fled, they''d take a dagger to the back. And the caravan behind them would make flight difficult.


    Nendas had heard several stories.


    These cavalry, when they hit a line, caved it in.


    "Stand your ground!" said Nendas. "Taha awaits the man who abandons his line!"


    The shaking of the ground became worse and worse. The creatures seemed even more gigantic up close. Nendas lined his spear up to stop the coming onslaught. One of the men backed away to try and slip out and took a dagger to the back.


    And then came the crash.


    The heavily armored creatures crashed into the line of spears. Nendas saw him knock a man off his horse but was forced to dodge aside. Several horses were knocked over as their riders were cast to the ground. Others among the men were cleaved down, but the line.


    Then all became chaos as dirt and grime kicked up. Nendas stabbed down with a spear to get a fallen foe in the chest. However, the armor caused it to glance off. Even so, his enemy was knocked back. An armored soldier fell with a knife through the weak point in his armor, then another. Rokas could be seen fighting with a well-armored figure.


    One of the Kulatian warriors cleaved down a militia. Nendas watched him scream as he raised the stump where his hand had been. A moment later, he was dead. People were dying all around Nendas, and looking up; he saw a knight going after one of the merchants. Drawing his sword, Nendas shouted in challenge to the man.


    He turned and went at him, and Nendas parried a blow. Disarming him, he struck him across the helm with the flat of his blade. The man fell to the ground in a stupor, and Nendas kicked him while he was down. Turning, he saw a man coming for him, parried his blow, and drove a sword through his throat on reflex.


    It was not the first person he had killed, but the deed made Nendas all the more miserable. Around him, he saw the fighting winding down as the Kulatian nobles were found and pulled down. No one seemed particularly keen on killing them for... reasons beyond Nendas'' comprehension. Granted, he knew that the blood of a noble was worth more than a peasant or merchant, but...


    All the blood around him looked the same.


    However, Rokas was fighting with his enemy, and they were going at it with real fury. Blade glanced at the gauntlet before Rokas bore him down and slammed him against the ground. The noble struggled to rise, but men grabbed him first.


    "Avatar of Jaha," said a man. "We are victorious."


    "We defeated the nobles of Kulat," said a man. "Where is their vaunted gods now?"


    "They are with us!" said another.


    "Peace," said Nendas. "I must heal the wounded, and then you must ensure our enemies are disarmed. We may need them as captives."


    There weren''t many wounded foot soldiers. Nendas had been given control of a group of inexperienced levies. Time and again, he''d heard of slaughters of said levies while the nobles emerged unscathed. It was not so this time.


    They''d lost six of their number and several horses. Many of the beasts had fled; others were being rounded up. Even so, they seemed stunned, evidently have not expected to lose.


    "Honorless Tarasifian bastard!" said the one Rokas had fought. He had a very fine appearance in his armor. "You shame the one you are pledged to by your actions!"


    Nendas ignored him until he finished healing. Once done, he decided that the Prince of Kulat was not among these as had been rumored. A Prince would surely make himself known.


    "I need prove nothing to you," said Nendas, wondering at the noble''s identity. The others seemed to defer to him. "Rokas, do you recognize him?"


    "Yes, Nendas. He is..." Rokas paused.


    "Rokas, you accursed bastard! You betray your family, your faith, and your nation for these animals!" said the man. "You serve these desecrators of temples? And walk among a common levy?!"


    "One has to eat, brother," said Rokas simply. "And I have advanced a great deal in this time."


    "Brother?!" said the noble. "You are no brother of mine! You worthless, depraved homosexual! Your spirit is as corrupt as your flesh!"


    Murmurs of the men. Nendas turned to a man. "Gag him. I''ve heard enough of this slander."


    "I can''t gag a Prince!" said soldier.


    "A Prince..." Nendas confused. "Where? Beyond the brute?" He didn''t see anyone with the appearance of royalty here.


    "You dare insult my caste, traitor to the gods!" said the man. "I am Prince Suruf of Kulat, Rightful Heir to the Throne! I have joined the battlefield and destroyed five caravans of your minions!"


    "All of whom had families and friends," said Nendas. "Why do you make a boast of atrocity?"


    "You didn''t even have the guts to fight us directly," said Taha. "You came at us with horses and armor, and you still used hit-and-run tactics."


    Suruf fell silent. "You should have been grateful to have been shown what mercy you were. Instead, you repay Father''s kindness by serving a Hasafa?"


    "A man without any family must take any company he can find," said Rokas. "If you did not want me to walk into the hands of your enemies, you should not have left me with no friends.


    "I hold my family in no hatred, however-"


    "Rokas, how many brothers do you have?" asked Taha suddenly.


    "Two," said Rokas. "But why does it matter?"


    "You have no brothers, animal! You have no kin or nation! You will-" Suruf fell short as Taha drew out her last dagger. "You wouldn''t dare... these meaningless threats have no terror to me." Taha, however, continued drawing forward.


    "Taha, wait," said Rokas. "What are you doing?"


    "If we cut his throat, you''ll only have one brother to worry about," said Taha. "Kill off your brothers, and we can get Samrasa to get you reinstated. Rightful king returns after the convenient death of his Father. Then history goes how we want."


    Murmurs of horror came from the men.


    Did Taha even know what she was suggesting?


    "Oh, what," said Taha. "Nobles do this kind of thing all the time. All these rules and regulations are only important to them when applied to other people.


    "Tarasif needs a friendly ruler on the throne of Kulat. Rokas knows the place and is a pretty good choice. How many of your friends did this brat kill anyway? Why are you defending him? Do you think he''d defend you if your positions were reversed?


    "He''d probably slit your throat with a smile on his face."


    "I do not want to kill my family, Taha," said Rokas. "However hateful they have been to me. To commit an evil deed is no less wicked simply because one has wronged you."


    "In any case," said Nendas. "Killing him could cause serious unforeseen problems. And Samrasa may have a problem with what you are doing now."


    "And what about someone who has wronged the gods?" asked Taha. "He''s been pretty disrespectful to Jaha, Nendas. Someone of lesser rank could be executed for speaking to you like that in a heartbeat."


    "That may be so," said Nendas. "But I would not order their execution simply to avenge wounded pride."


    Taha sighed and sheathed her knife. "Fine, whatever you say. If you don''t want to take vengeance, I won''t do it for you." And she walked past Suruf.


    Suruf took a moment to confirm that Taha was walking past. His expression grew to one of contempt. "Is this what the Jaha is capable of, now? Restraining a deluded peasant whore from atrocity?"


    Taha halted and turned, dagger being drawn high. However, she halted as Nendas looked at her. After a moment, Nendas considered things. Then reflected that this man was overtly hostile. If he responded to mercy with further mockery, he would turn on Tarasif if he ever got the throne. Moreover, he had committed blasphemy against Jaha. He believed his status as a Prince would protect him.


    But he was wrong.


    So much for the legendary religious fervor of Kulat, this man was no more than a petty raider.


    "Taha, he is yours," said Nendas. "I give him into your hands." And it was not him speaking.


    Turning on the Prince, Taha was at him from behind. Dragging off his helm, she slashed his throat. The man gurgled, blood spilling out as Taha held him in place. Taha grabbed him by the neck.


    "When you get to hell, inform Diabolus that Taha will be coming for him," said Taha, and then she snapped his neck.


    The men stared in shock and incredulousness. Nendas walked before them.


    "Nendas..." said Rokas. "That was not necessary."


    "It was," said Nendas. "Ask me to forgive an insult to myself or a friend, and I shall do so gladly. Ask me to forgive the wrongs he dealt you, and I shall do so gladly. To forgive the slaughter of so many soldiers and caravans is all possible. For this is war, and such things happen.


    "But to forgive blasphemy against Jaha herself?


    "That is not within my power to forgive. He had already spurned her mercy several times, confident that mere rank made him above her." He looked to his men. "Well done, all of you. This day you have proven yourselves, warriors, in both spirit and body."


    "What will we tell Samrasa?" asked Rokas.


    "The truth, of course," said Nendas. "Your brother was an evil man who had the misfortune to be useless to us. But, we will arrange a proper funeral, of course."


    Nendas decided that Jaha acted differently through him than she did through women.*


    The point, however, was made. No one was above the gods.


    *This sequence was taken from a brief history of the conflict. I added it to the beginning of the second half to provide context. I should note the existence of horses is one that has almost gone out of memory. Anoa killed them all, and I did not know about them until Kiyora spoke of them.


    A regrettable oversight in my education that has since been corrected.


    *This statement is a bit redundant, as are several others in this chapter. Often they restate things that have already been covered.


    Bear in mind; this is taken from a different text than those we have seen earlier. Virtually all of them make a point to note that Nendas channels Jaha''s differently. Tarasifians do not seem to have any warrior tradition for women. Taha appears to have walked in by virtue of sheer audacity. So this may have been an attempt to explain his different actions.

 Chapter Ten: Justice or Revenge

    The camp received the death of the Prince of Kulat with great joy. Many of the men had lost friends to his raids, and his brutality to the farmers of Tarasif was well-known. With his death, it seemed likely that the war was nearing its end. That Jaha herself had ordained his execution meant the Gods condemned Kulat. Or, at least until Samrasa found it convenient for it to be otherwise.


    A gift of horses and armor, all given to Samrasa, was made, and Samrasa saw the men''s enthusiasm. So he graciously accepted the gift and gave rich rewards to Nendas, Taha, and Rokas. Who, in turn, gave them up and handed them all over to the warriors. One who had fought with them against the Prince of Kulat.


    Money was no object, and the act bought them many friends.


    The strange thing was that Nendas could remember none of it. More and more on this campaign, his senses blurred together. What day was it? What month? It all seemed like a waking dream. And though he remembered speaking, he felt less and less like a person and more like a puppet of divine schemes.


    Sometimes a man would approach him as the Avatar of Jaha or even as Nendas and pick up a conversation. And yet Nendas would have no memory of the man, his name, or anything about him. But it would be as though he knew him well.


    Yet, he''d carry on his end of the conversation with ease. That was the strange part as if Jaha remembered and was speaking for him.


    All three of them ought to have been executed. Was Samrasa saving them from execution later?


    Jaha certainly seemed much more popular than before. Perhaps he didn''t think the moment to kill Nendas was right? Well, if Samrasa''s treatment of Ralign was any indication, Nendas was no worse off than before. He still needed someone to kill and replace Ralign, after all. Until then, he was safe.


    Either way, here they were, sitting over a cooking fire, waiting for their rice to be done.


    "Well, camp life is fun, isn''t it?" asked Taha with a grin.


    "Not particularly," said Nendas.


    "Well then, why didn''t you choose to be part of the King''s entourage?" asked Rokas. "He offered you that after we killed the Prince of Kulat." Rokas seemed remarkably devoid of grief at the death of his brother. His objections were on principle and not affection. Nendas could only assume he''d never liked the bastard.


    "I am the Avatar of Jaha," said Nendas, the word hollow on his tongue. "One of my responsibilities is living without luxury. It would set a poor example if I were seen drinking and partying with Ralign." He glanced up to where boisterous laughter could be heard from the tent.


    "You seem to have been getting on with Ralign better," said Taha.


    "It''s a matter of necessity," said Nendas, pausing between mouthfuls. "If I were constantly chafing at the bit and throwing accusations around, I would do no one any good. My feud with him is of no present relevance. If he intends to treat me with greater respect, I see no reason not to return the gesture."


    "In any case, I agree with Nendas," said Rokas. "We should not take advantage of hospitality we do not deserve. It is better to serve well and receive less than to receive more and not serve."


    "Perhaps you could tell the Lord Munsuf that," noted Nendas.


    "He would not listen," said Rokas. "He does not have the build of one who trains for war as much as he ought to. And why would I if his instructors that trained your father did no better?"


    Taha ate some rice and looked up. "What''s that quote from? The one about serving and receiving?"


    "It''s a personal philosophy," said Rokas lowering his bowl. "I used to read a great deal. My Father taught me that I must always serve others before myself. House Aka has always held service to a right cause to be its own reward."


    "Oh yes, because he''s a true role model," said Taha.


    "Just because he mistreated me in some form does not mean that all his words are worthless, Taha," said Rokas.


    Looking at the pot, Nendas noticed a small amount of rice left. Rokas deferred to him, but Nendas shrugged. "...You may have the last one, Rokas."


    "Hmm, oh yes," said Rokas. "You need not concern yourself; I am not hungry."


    "Well, let me have it, then," said Taha, scooping out more. "Samrasa gave me a job, and I won''t do it on an empty stomach. I''m going back up to the hill soon. The armies of Kulat will fight us sooner or later, so we''ve got to attack at the right time.


    "King Samrasa wants me to read the winds and find him an opening."


    "How does ''reading the wind'' even work?" asked Nendas, suspecting he already knew.


    "Well, I have these scrolls with special rituals on them," said Taha, drawing them out. "I put them out and put a bit of blood on them."


    "Rituals from where?" asked Nendas.


    "Um, the cult of Tamar," said Taha.


    They stared at her.


    "What?" said Taha.


    "... That''s a divine technique!" said Rokas. "You are using the Gods while denying their existence! That''s contradicting your ideology!"


    "No, I''m not," said Taha. "Look, it''s meditation combined with using tools to figure out weather patterns. Anyone could do it if they learned the techniques for it."


    "So are you going to teach other people the techniques?" asked Nendas.


    "Of course not," said Taha. "I''d be out of a job. These rituals are the main thing I have other people don''t. Anyway, Nendas, what has been up with you? Ever since we started this campaign, you have been weird."


    "How so?" asked Nendas.


    "Well, sometimes you''re yourself," said Taha. "Other times, though, you wander off to talk to people. Ask them all kinds of questions and suggest solutions to their problems. You get them to repair relationships and such.


    "The Peacemaker, some are calling you.


    "You also up and disappeared one week to heal a bunch of villages where a plague was starting."


    "...I don''t remember," said Nendas, considering what to do about this.


    "Well, it''s probably saved our neck," said Taha. "I think Samrasa got hoisted on his cross. He arbitrarily declared Jaha the ''good'' deity, hoping it would pull the teeth on the moderates. Then he had the ''Avatar'' make a man instead of a woman to discredit her.


    "Instead, you''ve got people saying Jaha is the One True God of Tarasif and that all others are subordinate. Very amusing, but it could get us all killed."


    Nendas looked up and saw people looking at him from different campfires. Was it him, or was there a reverence that had not existed before? "I''m sorry, I don''t remember any of it. It must have been Jaha acting through me."


    Was it possible that his inability to act as the Avatar of Jaha should lead her to act directly through him? This had never happened before. There had been accounts of Avatars going into trances and being spoken to. Yet nothing like this.


    "I really think you should confront your inner darkness, Nendas," said Taha. "Gods don''t exist, so obviously, you''ve shut out everything from your mind. Probably because you wish the Gods do exist. So you are delegating a portion of your mind to act in their stead. You can conquer only by confronting that part of yourself; you refuse to acknowledge it."


    "What does that even mean?" asked Rokas flatly.


    "I have no idea," said Taha. "But it sounds appealing, and since all truths are invalid anyway, it''s as legitimate as any other." And she got up to undertake her mission.


    At that point, a man approached. "Avatar."


    "Yes, what is it?" asked Nendas.


    "Some of our men have become sick with a strange illness," said the man. "Can Queen Jaha aid us?"


    Nendas stood up, feeling the hints of the blur. Finally, however, he forced it back. He would live through these moments. "I shall come at once."


    "Taha, do you mind if I accompany you?" asked Rokas.


    "Actually, yes," said Taha, drawing out the scroll. "This is something I do on my own. I can''t make it work with distractions."


    In a dream, or perhaps in a waking vision, Nendas walked away from himself alongside Taha. She made her way up to the peak of the hill. It was just outside the command tent where merriment was being made. Unrolling the scrolls, she cut a finger and let a drop of blood fall onto it. From there, she smoothed it red over the paper and closed her eyes.


    The wind was on her face, and Nendas saw her focusing.


    The world, Taha thought, was not directed by divine forces. It was a mathematical system¡ªa chain of events set in motion long ago with only one possible ending. Every piece had been set in place by cosmic accident at the beginning of all things.


    You only needed to see the calculations to know what would happen.


    But seeing the calculation is impossible for anyone; it is too big. So you have to estimate and round the calculations; you can see. Using that, you can get a general sense of where things are going.


    And if things are big enough, a general sense is all you need.


    "Got it!" said Taha suddenly in triumph. "Thank you, Tamar, not that you exist." And she rolled up her scroll before hurrying into the tent. Within, she found Samrasa feasting with his nobles. They were boasting of heroic deeds and making grand plans. And they were left out of it.


    No idols of any god stood in this place around them.


    Taha hurried past them and kneeled by Samrasa''s side, and the old man looked at her and smiled. "King Samrasa?"


    "Yes, what is it, dear girl?" asked Samrasa. His eyes brightened at her presence.


    "Our enemy approaches and seeks battle," said Taha. "They will come to face you in battle here. They shall array in great numbers, greater than any expected. But the wind shall be against them, and you will have it at your back.


    "Strike hard and fast, and your enemy shall fall."


    "Do you trust this priestess, Samrasa?" asked Munsuf at his side. "Surely not. She is a devotee of those illiterate cults as much as anyone else." Illiterate cults? Did he dare speak as such?


    "I''m not a priestess," said Taha. "I''m just someone who understands how the Priestesses of Tamar operate. I learned their techniques and saw through their lies." Not helping at all, but a good survival reflex.


    "...You are sure of this?" asked Samrasa.


    "Absolutely," said Taha. "I can feel the winds and know how they will act. I have knife tricks that require it.


    "Your enemy shall come to you."


    Samrasa nodded. "Very well, I shall make a trial of this information."


    And then Nendas entered the tent as if summoned. He found himself looking through his own eyes again. He realized Jaha had been acting independently of him. How was this possible?


    Of course, it was possible.*


    "King Samrasa, we''ve brought him," said a soldier.


    "I see," said Samrasa. "Leave us, all of you. Except you, Munrus. We ought to have this discussion sooner rather than later."


    "Ah, Nendas, you''re here," said Samrasa. "I''m told you''ve been healing the injured."


    "I was asked to by many common soldiers," said Nendas.


    "Well, we are at war, so I don''t think we need to make an issue of it," said Samrasa. "Jaha is on our side, after all. Indeed, she is perhaps the most devoted of those we worship." A blanket lie, a moment ago, he had been scorning her? Was this what Jaha saw?


    "Nephew, it has been too long," said Munsuf. His warmth was feigned and poorly disguised.


    "Yes, Uncle, it has," said Nendas. Though he wanted to say ''not long enough.''


    "I apologize for not inviting you to the funeral," said Munrus. "I did not think a personal journey would be appropriate for an Avatar-"


    "I know, Uncle," Nendas said, wondering how else Munsuf had slandered him. "I''ve come to understand and accept the reasons for what you did." And Munrus would pay dearly for them sooner or later.


    Munrus looked to Samrasa, who laughed. "...Well, then, we need not have this discussion any longer. Nendas, I want you and your companions to be first in the coming assault. You''ll go ahead, in Ralign''s company. I trust you remember our earlier discussion in the palace."


    "With great clarity, of course," said Nendas.


    "Good, then prepare and await our orders," said Samrasa. "Battle will soon be joined."


    Jaha meditated, freeing herself from Nendas'' mind and assuming her own identity for a bit. Her greater self was of little help for the moment; this was not her forte. Yet channeling herself through Nendas had caused her to take on a more calculating mind. She usually only possessed the wills of the kindest and most pure maidens. Faithful Nendas was, but he was trained for war.


    Perhaps the energies poured into Nendas should be sent elsewhere. If they entered her greater self, it could be problematic.


    Taha''s words about confronting inner darkness bothered her. Was what happened here due to Nendas being used as a lens for her power? Or was it manifesting an aspect of herself she wished to deny? There were, after a fashion, many of her.


    It was of no present consequence. Jaha resumed her role as controller.


    There was another blur that seemed unreal. Vaguely Nendas was aware of himself moving this way and that. He acted as he would normally act, but he was hardly conscious. And little by little, he felt as though he was losing himself. Was he becoming part of Jaha? Or had his actions put him so at odds with her spirit? Had he become separate from his status as the Avatar. It was unbearable, and it was all he could do to observe events from an outside perspective. He felt himself sort of drifting off, and he fought against it, feeling his connection to Jaha.


    To be the Avatar of Jaha was a great honor.


    It had always been reported that those who did so became one with her after a time. They took on more and more aspects of them. Was that what was happening to him now? Was he becoming no more than a face?


    Summoning his will, Nendas moved aside as the Kulatian army gathered beneath the hill. "Jaha...


    "I have not prayed to you in a long time. I used to pray all the time.


    "I''ve stopped recently.


    "I do not know why you chose me or what you want from me. However, your inhibitions are something I cannot afford. I will have to kill for what happens next. I ask that you do not speak to me during this battle.


    "Thank you."


    As soon as he said it, the dream was disrupted. Nendas found he was praying with his sword before him.


    "Are you done?" asked Taha, some way away.


    "Yes, as much as possible," said Nendas, drawing the sword.


    "You didn''t seem so faithful as before. I''m proud of you," said Taha.


    Nendas turned around and walked past her. "Silence.


    "Taha, stay here. I will enter the battle."


    "Sure, whatever you want," said Taha. "Samrasa doesn''t want to lose me anyway. My skills aren''t exactly common knowledge."


    Nendas said nothing and hurried to the formation with his command. Details came back to him as he ordered and assembled his men. Details of names and faces long forgotten or perhaps taken by Jaha. A sense of hostility was coming toward him, anger toward Jaha, and he now wondered if she wasn''t devouring him.


    It did not matter. The lines were assembled before one another, and the two armies stood ready. Battle would soon be joined, and Nendas knew there would be blood soon. And he realized he was standing next to Ralign in the infantry. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "So, here we are," said Nendas.


    "Scared?" asked Ralign, but there was a tinge of humor behind it. It was not an insult.


    "No," said Nendas, remembering that Samrasa wanted him dead. Could he kill the man? "Not more than anyone else."


    With luck, Ralign would be killed in battle fairly. But then, Ralign had not been killed fairly in all this time. It did not seem he would be brought down save by treachery.


    "I am at your side, Nendas," said Rokas. "I only wish Taha could fight alongside us."


    "You wanted a woman fighting?" asked Ralign.


    "Taha''s skills are more valuable behind the lines," said Nendas. "Knife throwing wouldn''t be of much use here anyway."


    And then the horn call was sounded. And they knew the battle was to be joined.


    "Forward, to war!" said Ralign, motioning with his axe.


    And they charged. As they charged, the men of Kulat unleashed their bows. Yet the wind howled, and their arrows were scattered. Pushing against them, the armies of Tarasif surged forward like a wave and struck the enemy line. Nendas cleaved down a man with his sword before clashing his blade against a spear. He saw Ralign cleaved his way forward, laughing as the enemy closed around him. The wind howled but always behind their backs, and the enemy line was bending.


    Rokas kicked down a man before striking down another with gauntletted fists. And then there was a melee. Nendas fought on reflex, slashing and blocking as blood spattered over him. The carnage began as he fought desperately, now and then catching a glimpse of a friend.


    Nendas had no idea what battle plan was being used, if any. He heard several horn calls and saw the King''s banner distantly coming from the side. But he had no real idea of what plans were being enacted or how well. All he could do was hack and slash everyone who stood against him.


    "The battle is ours! The enemy flees before us!" said Rokas.


    Then Nendas found himself fighting sword to sword with a man clad in armor similar to Prince Suras. He was an older man, but he was a good fighter. Turning the blade, Nendas slammed a gauntlet against his helm and sent him down. Putting the blade to the old man''s throat, he halted as the fighting cleared.


    The old man gripped his sword hard.


    "Surrender," said Nendas.


    The man pulled himself up as the armies of Kulat scattered or were hunted down. Rokas came to him, and the old man glared at him. "You betray your own family, Rokas?"


    "I don''t have a family," said Rokas. "You made that very clear last time we met, Father."


    "And so you take the side of these curs?!" said Father. "Have you fallen so far?"


    "I follow Taha because she gave me food and a trade," said Rokas, repeating himself. "To her is who all my obligations lie. She joined Tarasif, and so I did. If you wished me to hold you in some obligation, you should not have been so vehement in disowning me."


    "Take his sword, Rokas," said Nendas. "You may take it as a trophy."


    Rokas did so and smiled as he did so. "Yes, Nendas."


    Nendas scanned the battlefield for Ralign. A lot of dust and dirt had been kicked up during the fighting. And the moans of the dying could be heard. "Keep him guarded. I will find Ralign."


    "Are you certain?" asked Rokas, and Nendas knew he knew.


    "We must see his fate," said Nendas. "If the King attempts to escape, try to keep him alive. Bringing him to Samrasa will be a valuable prize."


    Nendas walked away but did not look for Ralign how he wanted to. He kept running into injured people and having to heal them. Many fell unconscious on the battlefield; a few died despite his efforts. And each one he asked of Captain Ralign.


    "Help..." said a man.


    "Rest easy," said Nendas, healing him. "I will see to it that you are healed. Did you see Captain Ralign?"


    "He charged that way, but I lost sight of him when he encountered the King''s guard," said the man. "I saw him break them, and the King fled into the melee."


    "Then go to camp," said Nendas. "I''ll find him."


    Soon he wandered through the dust until, at last, he came to Ralign, just behind a hill of bodies. The man was lying wounded on the ground, a spear in his side. Nendas could heal him easily. And he remembered how the man had come to treat him more kindly. Perhaps that would continue, and Ralign could be an ally.


    "Ralign," said Nendas, kneeling by him.


    "...Help me, Nendas..." said Ralign. "Please... help me..."


    But Ralign had killed his Father, an honorable man on the same side. He had shown outward contempt for him, even after his death. Not to mention massacring the faithful of Elranor. What use was the friendship of such a man?


    "King Samrasa... he''ll... he''ll reward..." began Ralign.


    Samrasa wanted Ralign dead. Saving him would earn his ire. Ralign was hated by many, and even if he was reformed, it would be of precious little use. While killing him would get Nendas one step closer to vengeance.


    He was worth more dead than alive.


    Snatching a fallen dagger, Nendas drove it through Ralign''s throat. It sank in deep, and he stood up and stepped back. Ralign lay dead, the murder of his Father avenged. Or at least partially avenged, he now needed only deal with Uncle and Samrasa.


    All in good time.


    Nendas contemplated whether he should feel anything at this.


    Not really.


    Ralign was terrible, had wronged him many times, and would have been of precious little use. He''d been tolerable company towards the end, but not enough to justify not killing him. Nendas turned to see several men emerging from the mists. "You, come quickly! Captain Ralign is dead! We must ensure his body is treated with respect." It was the least he could do.


    What was he babbling about? He didn''t care at all.


    "What happened?" asked a man.


    "I found him with a spear through him, but it took a knife to the throat to put him down," said Nendas. "He did not deserve to die like this." Though whether his death ought to have been faster or slower, Nendas wasn''t sure. "I must find anyone else who needs aid. Ensure that no one defiles his corpse."


    Ralign was, in the end, just one more tool. But he''d been a willing tool, which meant he could be punished. But then he felt another voice arguing that killing him was still wrong. What if he had forgiven Ralign, and they had become friends and worked against Samrasa?


    Befriend the one who murdered his father? Laughable.


    Justice had demanded Ralign die. And Nendas could not have delivered justice openly. And even if Nendas had not done it, Samrasa would have. All Nendas would have done by sparing him was show Samrasa he wasn''t really loyal. In any case, Ralign would have died on his own if Nendas'' hadn''t shown up.


    All he''d done was give him a mercy killing instead of healing him.


    But, the voice noted, Nendas had put himself in a position to benefit from that death. Worse still, he had gone looking for him to deliver it. Being present gave Nendas a responsibility to act, and what he had done was kill someone he could have saved. He was a murderer.


    "Damn you, I don''t need your judgment," said Nendas flatly. "Others need your aid, and I''m the only one who can do it. So you can use me for your ends, or you can not.


    "Either way, I don''t need to justify myself to you. I''ve never had a choice in any of this anyway."


    In the end, Nendas got back and found Rokas standing with his sword at his father''s throat. Coming to a halt, Nendas nodded to him. "Rokas, you have the King?"


    "Yes," said Rokas. "Is Ralign-"


    "Ralign is dead," said Nendas. "Come, let''s take our captive to King Samrasa."


    Now the only question was if Samrasa would keep his word to Rokas or Nendas. Certainly, their group had more than upheld their end of the bargain.


    Nendas sincerely doubted it.


    But he could wait for an opportunity.*


    *This sequence seems to be narrative convenience on the part of the original author. I see no way that Nendas could have seen through Taha''s eyes at all. Barring Taha also having some connection to Jaha. Given Taha''s violent and chaotic nature, this is utterly absurd.


    It could be a local suspicion or belief system.


    *This was one of the oldest texts that Tanith translated. It might have been written during the reign of Samrasa himself.

 Chapter Eleven: The Worst People

    Of course, nothing turned out how many wanted it. Jaha saw to that. In fact, once Kulat was subdued, Samrasa seemed to all but forget his promise to Rokas. Nothing was ever made of it, nor did he say he did not intend to fulfill it. Samrasa simply moved on, and Rokas slipped through the cracks of memory. After all, he did not have much support and did not particularly want the job.


    Samrasa did not even attempt to renegotiate his return to his family and hardly spoke to him again. Though he still had young boys visit him regularly.


    Taha, for winning him the battle, was promptly forgotten. It seemed she had merely been a momentary curiosity, and Samrasa lost interest. Not with all the people praising him for being thrice-blessed by the Gods. Uncle even hinted Samrasa was her Chosen. And Samrasa had the sheer gall to accept the title, Chosen of Jaha.


    Whatever your beliefs, the idea that you were the Chosen One of the devoted deities appealed. Or at least it appealed far more than being an older man, soon to die, in a meaningless world soon to decay.


    Even if doing so was in direct contradiction to your entire ideology.


    Nendas guessed that Taha was an unwelcome reminder of the results of rejecting the gods. And Samrasa would rather live in fantasy than acknowledge the reality he''d created. Not he stopped his anti-religious speeches or stopped hurting people. He found new excuses.


    It made sense.


    After all, if there was no meaning to the universe, you had no obligation to be morally consistent. So just take what you can and give nothing back. But the ease with which Samrasa had abandoned everything troubled him most. He had done it the moment it inconvenienced him. Perhaps Samrasa had lost his faith in godlessness. When confronted by Taha, he merely realized as much.


    Neither did he fulfill his obligations to Nendas, the only one Samrasa seemed to know existed. A new mercenary named Kalif was brought in to serve the role, while Nendas was tasked with other matters. He had been defending the Dinisian Front for some time during the wars. Samrasa had never intended to honor his promise. He''d offered it to use Nendas as a pawn. And Nendas had no choice but to go along with it because he might die otherwise.


    Samrasa avoided targetting the growing worshippers of Jaha, of course. Several of Ralign''s men took matters into their own hands, and Nendas had to kill them. After several such skirmishes, Samrasa opted to have Ralign''s old troop killed. He then made some speeches lamenting that such bloodshed had happened. He wondered why Jaha would allow it. As if he thought it would make a prologue to his eventual purge.


    Old fool, he''d be lucky to last ten more years with all the wine he drank. He''d have no time to wipe out the worship of Jaha now that they were growing. And whoever succeeded him would have a different hobby.


    The interesting part was that Kalif moved on and appointed all his people to the positions. After that, persecution stopped entirely. Unless Samrasa ordered them, he spent much time with Uncle. There he engaged his depravities. He only ventured from the palace to order some statues defaced or priests executed. Once or twice he even targeted the faithful of Jaha.


    But these were infrequent events, and they were performed out of habit. It was a way of asserting that he was still King and purging the religious scourge. Undertaken less out of genuine passion or hatred and more as a way of passing the time. So long as the priests stayed out of his line of sight while he was in these moods, you were usually fine. Samrasa had gone the way of Munsuf, perhaps influenced by his protege, and drank far more than he should.


    Nendas, for his part, did his best to save those seized. A number of prison cells were found mysteriously open in the night. A system was set in place by Taha. It helped people who had been marked for death get moved into the country. She seemed to enjoy doing it and liked getting back at Samrasa. He''d committed the one sin she could find ground for hating: Betraying your beliefs.


    Eventually, however, Kalif found out about this and reported it to Samrasa. The King never found out exactly who had been responsible. But in a rage, he''d nearly ordered a purge of the areas where it was happening. As if, having torn down the gods, he now possessed the authority of those he had destroyed.


    Kalif, however, managed to talk him into executing the prison guards. Then, several priests were beheaded. And conveniently, the prison was taken over by men loyal to Kalif. After that, they had not dared take further action. While the events were never connected to them, they had become inconvenient.


    Samrasa might kill them out of spite, for, unlike the priests, Samrasa knew their names. He often cursed them when he thought no one could hear. Now and then, servants spoke of hearing him raving in private. And though he hated him beyond words, Nendas could not help but lament that so great a man had fallen so far.


    Years had passed now, and Nendas was around the point of deciding to take Samrasa''s life. Rokas'' original plan was rapidly seeming the best one. Simply murder all his enemies and leave Tarasif to decide its fate. Ordinarily, he''d never considered it, but Nendas suspected he''d be murdered soon. And it wasn''t as if leaving Samrasa alive would improve the situation; quite the opposite.


    He might one day decide to burn the city down out of spite.


    Samrasa was a liability, and he''d only stayed alive because Kalif refused to move against him. Several speeches were made about the evils of rebellion and how they would only cause civil war. So Nendas guessed that Kalif''s plan was to wait until Samrasa died. Then he''d take over afterward and be hailed as a hero.


    One could hardly begrudge him it. Nobody wanted to go back to the old days of neverending paranoia. At one point, there had been a new King every week with a battle for each one. Samrasa had ended that and reigned long, though many wished he''d died before his decline. But then, it seemed likely that Samrasa would fall soon anyway, no matter what Kalif did. His reputation was not what it once was; many important concerns were being ignored.


    And peace was no longer the siren''s call it had once been. Many people began to murmur that a good war would be preferable to humiliation.


    But, Nendas stayed his hand here too. He did what he could to ensure Kalif''s plan, or what h thought was Kalif''s plan, continued.


    He wasn''t sure why. The only thing keeping him was the prospect of getting back what Samrasa had stolen. But there was increasingly less of that. Uncle had not learned anything over the years, even after Samrasa tired of him and sent him back. He dithered and refused to lead and then would make reckless decisions so he could feel decisive. When he dithered, his holdings rotted, and when he acted, he put everyone at risk for no gain. Anyone who tried to fill Father''s shoes tended to meet the same fate.


    The letters from Sarafi came in daily, and they got worse and worse. Priceless statues that had been erected to honor victories had been sold. The money was used by Uncle to throw lavish parties and spend his time whoring. At the same time, he denied any member of the Hasafa Clan permission to take any worthy deed. Not content with his ruin, he seemed determined to ruin everything about him. Many members of the Hasafa Clan were fleeing their own homes. Others were seeking a position in the military under an alias.


    The treasury that Father had gained by shrewd action was gone¡ªwasted in less than a decade.


    Tarasif was a gilded ruin populated by serpents; its promises were broken. Its honor was shattered. And the only question was who would survive the coming bloodletting. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Things kept going from bad to worse, and they never seemed to improve.


    It was only a matter of time before it all collapsed. Nendas could do very little to shore up the beams of a house divided at the foundation. All he could hope was that Samrasa would die so someone could patch it.


    Why wouldn''t the rotting old corpse give up the ghost and die! It would be doing everyone a huge favor and would fix most of their problems right away! He''d have worked enough after he was dead without adding more to it now!


    The only consolation was the atheists were finally as miserable as their victims. Now, if only Nendas could find a way to kill all his followers right after he died. Then his worthless ideology would be put into the grave with him.


    But for now, Nendas sped through the trees, tracking his prey. He checked his pace to ensure his companions could follow behind him. At last, he came out of the trees and onto the road. A cart had been overturned, and birds were picking at several corpses. One of them was a little girl whose throat had been cut.


    He wondered what her name had been and why she had come out here. She looked to be of Taha''s race. Was there some resemblance, or was it in his mind?


    Word of another dead merchant was unlikely to cause much trouble; this sort of thing happened. But a failure was a failure, although it wasn''t his. So he walked past the bodies without another glance and looked for more tracks.


    "Hmm, from the looks of things, our prey has been busy with a merchant caravan," said Nendas. Suddenly, Nendas felt Her in his mind, pressuring him to try and save these wretches.


    "Rokas, are any of them alive?"


    "None," said Rokas, shooing away the birds. "All have been dead for hours."


    One of the birds tried to return, only to take a dagger through the eye from Taha as she walked to the cart. "Nedas, we should see if they left any valuables here. They can''t have had time to clean this place out."


    "We are not stopping for plunder, Taha," said Nendas. "Not while we have a mission to complete."


    None of their missions were honorable anymore. Samrasa sent them to kill outlaws, but outlaws could mean anyone now. Many of them might have been perfectly good people if not for the actions of their glorious leader. Worshippers of faiths that had been cast down, trying to survive. Sometimes they were common murderers. Others were Kulatian soldiers who Samrasa had dispossessed. The territory handed out to King Samrasa''s favorites had to come from somewhere. Some were deserters from Tarasif, and many of them had organized.


    Rooting them out was miserable business.


    Nendas could hardly do anything beyond looking the other way for the innocent. But he couldn''t do that too often; Samrasa would find an excuse to kill him. Reports had come in already of entire villages being crucified for worshipping Elranor. Nendas wondered if Samrasa had turned to worship Baltoth.


    "We should see to it that these poor souls are buried," said Rokas.


    Jaha agreed, of course. Nendas felt her all-consuming sympathy pouring into him from the brand on his prow. But it no longer soothed and was kept back by bars of seething resentment. Resentment Samrasa, the world, Munsuf, and so many others. "I am well aware, Rokas.


    "We will see to their burial after we are done here."


    "Why bother?" asked Taha. Either these people were of no relation, or Taha was further gone than Nendas thought. Or, perhaps, she did not remember them either.


    "Though they are merchants, they deserve a funeral out of respect for the gods," said Rokas.


    "Do you think they care?" asked Taha. "They''ve ceased to exist. Their decaying flesh won''t mind if they get eaten by birds."


    "Other travelers may, however," said Nendas. "And a good reputation is a valuable thing to cultivate. Come, we must be quick. I have the tracks."


    Off they went.


    Nendas reflected that there had been a time when such a sight would have been horrifying. However, the corpses were nothing new. He''d seen many executions by the King''s soldiers. He''d even captured some of those responsible. After seeing them die, they preferred to kill people and bring back their heads. It was kinder that way.


    "You know what the worst part about all this is?" said Taha suddenly.


    "What is it?" asked Nendas.


    "We''re not even the main heroes of this story," said Taha with a sigh.


    "What is that supposed to mean?" asked Nendas.


    "Well, think about it," said Taha. "What exactly have we done other than follow orders?"


    "We have gone above and beyond the orders we were given," said Rokas.


    "Sure, but in all the stories, the hero is the one who drives the narrative," said Taha. "Take us out of things and what changes.


    "We''re just pawns on someone else''s game."


    "We are nothing of the sort," said Nendas, faintly offended. "I have been fully aware of Samrasa''s transparent machinations. And all of you were as well.


    "We chose to play along with them because to do otherwise would get us murdered.


    "And I have taken steps to avenge my Father."


    "Yeah, but only because Samrasa threw you a bone," said Taha. "And it''s not like you could have chosen not to kill him. If he''d come back alive, Samrasa would have gone after you next.


    "I mean, Rokas and I haven''t changed anything."


    "We were instrumental in conquering Kulat," noted Rokas.


    "Yes, but Kulat is getting less stable by the day," said Taha. "They see what''s happening here. The King will stage a rebellion as soon as he senses weakness. The Hasafa Clan has been run into the ground. And Samrasa has alienated the centers of faith; we''ll see a civil war.


    "Samrasa is getting on in years, and he has no son. With the religious institutions, there would be a way to anoint someone king. So we''re going to have a civil war between all his generals. Kalif will take over Tarasif; the Hasafa''s will take a different side. Kulat will then break free.


    "And whoever unites Tarasif will go back to trying to conquer Kulat.


    "We could have lost that battle, and it would not have mattered. And if your actions don''t matter in the narrative, can you call it your story?"


    "Well then, whose story is it?" asked Nendas, trying not to let his irritability show.


    Taha was silent. "Samrasa.


    "We''ve come in at the end of a tragedy where the once heroic. Samrasa succumbs to his fatal flaws and is destroyed. He was a great man if not a good one, but his flaws led to his utter destruction. Maybe we''ll kill him, but we''ll just be the executioner who comes in in the third act.


    "None of us are going to live long enough to have a place in history at this rate."


    "What bothers me is that no one at all benefitted from our actions," said Rokas. "We served Samrasa and the Hasafa Clan and Tarasif well. Each of us fought with everything we were to advance our goals. Men died around us, and we were promised things at the end.


    "But none of those promises were kept.


    "Samrasa threw us aside without a second thought.


    "I do not even mind, in my case. I never wanted to be a King, and I do not think I would be a good one. But by all accounts, Samrasa and Munsuf are worse off for our actions than better. This despite their plans going perfectly."


    "I don''t care," said Nendas. "There''s nothing worth living for in this life anyway. With any luck, Laevian will send a plague that will kill us all."


    "Don''t you want to kill Samrasa?" asked Taha.


    "I can''t think of any worse fate Samrasa could have than to live to be a hundred," said Nendas. "He doesn''t deserve to be assassinated or killed in battle. Let him rot."


    "Well, what about your uncle," said Taha. "He''s done very well out of all this.


    "With Vandias gone, he''s free to live a life of absolute luxury. All without any responsibilities. He doesn''t care about clan or Tarasif, so he''s getting what he wants. Samrasa has to keep in place because he''s afraid of a vengeful Hasafa Clan led by you."


    Nendas sighed. "My uncle... by now, he''s done all the damage he can.


    "No one in the clan listens to anything he says. Many have abandoned him, and now he''s fled to Tarasif for fear of their knives. My own family has conspired to murder their patriarch, and it is an unforgivable crime. Not that Samrasa had done anything beyond giving him a place to stay.


    "I think he plans to try and placate the Hasafa somehow, perhaps by appointing someone more competent. We''re too weak to stand against him now. Uncle will likely get a comfortable retirement, pass on his title and get off scot-free. Samrasa can''t behead his most loyal ally. It would set a poor precedent.


    "If he were going to execute him, he would have done it by now."


    "Are you saying the Munsuf is the smartest person here?" asked Rokas. And his voice said it was absolutely ludicrous.


    "No," said Nendas. "I don''t know. Yes.


    "By all accounts, he has gotten everything he wanted. He avoided all misery and hardship and is now well on his way to escaping without consequences. And he hasn''t anything he valued."


    "Is a life without hardship and consequences worth living?" asked Rokas. "And isn''t valuing nothing at all worse than valuing something for a time and losing it?"


    "...I say we find Munsuf, torture him to the death, and feed him to the dogs," said Taha, spinning a knife. "Show him how loyal a beaten dog is."


    "That isn''t what I want," admitted Nendas. "Though I may do it anyway as consolation for my injuries. One ill turn deserves another, after all." A few years ago, he''d never have considered killing his Uncle. It would have been sacrilege of the highest order.


    Not the idea appealed.


    It was wrong, and Nendas did not like what he was becoming.


    "Then what do you want?" asked Taha.


    "I want what I was promised," said Nendas. "If I were allowed to leave my position as Avatar of Jaha I could fix the shambles Munsuf has made of my clan. Or at least reduce the damage."


    "So what did the guys we''re hunting do anyway, Nendas?" asked Taha.


    "Does it matter?" asked Nendas. "Our orders are to kill all of them."


    "I dunno; I''d like to know why this particular religious sect is getting wiped out," said Taha. "I know they''re bandits; usually, religious warriors became bandits after a purge. Gotta make a living."


    "They are worshippers of Elranor if you must know," said Nendas. Taha was more interested in religion than she let on. She often knew about the rites of various societies, which had proven useful in hunting them. "He has become a common patron deity for exiles. Though I expect all gods will be patrons of exiles soon enough."


    "What do you mean?" asked Rokas.


    "King Samrasa''s goal is the complete removal of all religion," said Nendas. "Once that is done, all other gods will, at best, be dismissed as faces of a single entity: him or his ideals or something.


    "That entity being a torch passed from one generation to another as sacred."


    "Why a torch anyway?" asked Taha.


    "A torch cannot have an opinion, Taha," said Nendas. "If you want to do something ruthless, there are no laws or codes a flame can give you. And pretending the flames are magic provides a defense against nihilism. And since it must be maintained by community spirit, it encourages people to be active."


    "It is a flexible belief system, I admit, Nendas," said Rokas. "But such a force would need an ultimate source."


    "You''re overthinking things, Rokas," said Nendas. "The point of the torch is not truth. It is to hide the truth. Half the population will take comfort in the flame. They won''t give in to despair and throw themselves off bridges. Meanwhile, the upper classes can remain happily hedonistic. And they praise themselves for giving the sheep hope.


    "It keeps society functioning and provides a basis by which to attack the Gods. Thus providing a purpose for society to strive for. That being the destruction of all undesirable thoughts and supernatural realities."


    "But what if it succeeds?" asked Rokas. "How would such a society function?"


    "What does Samrasa care?" asked Taha. "He''ll be dead long before that happens, and he''s still getting his five square meals. The whole thing is an elaborate performance. This is all meant to distract people from how they are getting robbed.


    "None of Samrasa''s officials believe their ideology. They just pretend to so they can get into the inner circle and steal as much as possible. Maybe they''ve fooled themselves into thinking they buy into it. But the second Samrasa keels over, they''ll prostrate themselves to Kalif. And he''s already making deals with the priests."


    "Well, they''re welcome to it," said Rokas in disgust. "If wealth and fat are all that they love, then that is what they deserve."


    Silence as they walked.


    "What is it like, having a god within you? You have never spoken of it?" asked Rokas.


    They were unusually curious, weren''t they?


    Then again, they had been working more closely together these past few months. Since the wars died down, the endless bloodshed had become more personalized. Instead of killing enemy soldiers, they killed traitors.


    "Violent," said Nendas.


    "Violent? She''s a Goddess of Peace," said Taha. "I mean, not as if I believe in her or anything."


    "I see everything while she is within me," said Nendas. "I know the nature of everything I see. So I see the violence before it even happens.


    "I do not understand how you can remain a staunch atheist, Taha. You joined the Cult of Tamar and became in the mysteries. How did you fake it that well? And how did you manage to not believe in her at all?


    "Surely, you must have seen some miracles. You''ve seen many done by me." He''d never been able to break her out of this. Nendas wasn''t even sure why he was asking.


    "Oh, please," said Taha. "I was a war orphan, and I needed a meal. It seemed like an easy way to learn knife-throwing and acrobatics. As soon as I''d taken what I needed from them, I walked." That story was completely different from the one she''d told Nendas before. She''d told her story many times, going over different parts, which shifted with the telling.


    In the end, Taha was just empty. Her life before she met them was just a meaningless fairy tale; she could tell however she wanted. "As for the miracles, it''s all about knowing when the wind will blow. You figure out what is going to happen and make some speeches. Then the wind happens, and you look like you called it down.


    "It''s all about tricks and timing. You''d be pretty good at it if you dropped the worship of Jaha."


    "Oh yes, because getting rid of religion has worked out so well for Tarasif," said Nendas.


    "...Good point," said Taha. "They uh... really should have come up with an alternative system to divine right. The contradictions have screwed everything up."


    "How did you manage to get made a priestess," asked Rokas.


    "Most religions will make you their high priest if you pretend to believe what they say," said Taha with a shrug. "The trick is not letting yourself act on what the religion demands. Once you start doing things, everyone wants you dead. You say the right things to the right people, get into the circles, and forget about those you abandon.


    "Make yourself useful, don''t present a threat to your boss, and you''re set.


    "I got as high as I could, but I wasn''t satisfied with being a handmaiden to some Goddess I never saw and didn''t exist. So I walked out before the day of the ceremony."


    "Taha," said Rokas. "I am concerned for you. This flippant view you have of the Gods is to your peril. At one time, I thought it was a mere quirk, but this nihilism is dangerous. You do not seem to know who you are or where you came from.


    "And now that I have seen the same principles at work in Tarasif, I fear it could consume you."


    "I can''t change whether or not the gods exist," said Taha. "I just lack belief in them. If Tamar wants to look me up and drag me back to her domain as a prisoner, she''s welcome to try. I''ve learned a few tricks to the knife-throwing techniques she teaches. I''ll bet I could teach her a trick or two."


    At that moment, the wind howled. Taha was nearly thrown off her feet. Nendas set a hand on a tree and forced himself to stand. Rokas set his back to a tree as the winds surge through them. Nendas saw Taha falling backward and surged forward to catch her.


    The wind stopped.


    As they halted, Nendas looked around and saw a fox. It was standing upon a stone and looking at them. Rokas gazed at it, concern on his face. "A fox.


    "Why''d it cross our path?


    "We should not speak any further," said Nendas. "We''re nearing our quarry."


    The tracks led them up into the highlands. Nendas wondered if Taha had called down some divine retribution as they walked. Tempting the gods was generally a bad idea, so Nendas wondered if he should-


    His brand pulsed, and Nendas'' thoughts turned away from Taha. Taha would be fine.


    Instead, he focused on getting to the enemy. Sending forth his thoughts, he used the power of Jaha to sense his enemy. They were near.


    Nendas sensed their hatred,


    The three of them were making a stand. He set a hand to his sword and looked to his comrades. "Our enemy is near."


    "Then let us meet them fairly in battle," said Rokas.


    The three emerged into a clearing by a gorge leading down to a river. Three men, clad raggedly and armed, were standing before them. "So, you are warriors who have been sent to track us, then.


    "Even if we fall, Elranor shall live on. His power shall see the-"


    "We don''t care," said Taha, hurling a dagger through his eye.


    Nendas and Rokas sprang forward, and his sword clashed with that of another enemy. Parrying and thrusting, he quickly found that his enemy was skilled but slow. Driving him toward the gorge, he stepped back to avoid a thrust, then knocked the sword from the man''s hand. Bringing up his sword, he drove it through his throat.


    Dragging it out, he stepped back quickly to avoid the blood. Turning to see Rokas fighting, he saw he and his man were grappling. Rokas was gradually overwhelming him, however. With a shrug, Nendas mentioned to Taha, who hurled a dagger into his back. As the corpse fell, Nendas came to where the first enemy was screaming. The blade was in his eye but hadn''t pierced deep enough, and he was screaming.


    Raising his sword, Nendas stabbed it through the man''s neck.


    "Sloppy, Taha," said Nendas with a sigh. "We both know you didn''t miss. Go for the throat, not the eye. These bandits had to be stopped, but it should be done cleanly and humanely."


    "Sorry," said Taha. "I wanted to see if I could make the shot."


    She was lying; she''d made that shot before, but it didn''t make any difference.


    Nendas shrugged, then raised his sword and plunged it through the man''s chest. However, the sword must have missed the heart because he didn''t die. Drawing it out, Nendas stabbed him again in irritation. Finally, when that didn''t work, Nendas fell to one knee and hacked off his head.


    Nendas remembered a time when all this would have horrified him.


    "Well, that''s done," said Taha. "Now, let''s see if they have anything worth stealing."


    "Indeed," said Rokas. "These foul renegades shall rob no one else!"


    "Less posturing, more looting," said Taha, searching through pockets. "Hey, this one had a silver necklace."


    "Likely stolen from the merchants," said Nendas.


    "Nah, those guys were easterners from Tartan; it''s a city-state just north of Spirta, one of their allies. I grew up there," said Taha, stripping off their clothes.


    "Wait, you''re an Amazon?" asked Nendas. She did not seem to have the build; he''d seen a few journeying here.


    "No," said Taha. "Not every woman in Themious is an Amazon. See, they''ve had trade routes for years. And the Amazon race bears more males than females, so there tends to be a lot of overlap. My family was part of the territory seized from Kulat in a war a few generations back.


    "So we don''t have any Amazonian blood. And even if we did, not every girl born to an Amazon is one. Zeya''s blessings are limited, I think."


    "You were ruled by Spirtana?" asked Rokas.


    "No, Tartan isn''t fond of the Spirtana; they just appreciate them as very dangerous," said Taha. "Their prowess in battle is legendary, even among the Amazons. And also, their word is their bond.


    "I can''t attest to either. I know Spirtana are very brave when murdering defenseless slaves, though. It''s a rite of passage for them. Each one is expected to have a male slave who accompanies them in everything.


    "To become a real woman, they have to murder him to demonstrate how strong and independent they are.


    "They also have a penchant for murdering men in general. Traditionally, their first male child is sacrificed on an altar to Zigildrazia. Believe me, we were lucky to get seized by Tartan; they were a bit civilized and let us run our affairs. Their Queen had several male children and smothered each on to death herself before they came of age.


    "She''s very fond of male children until they grow up.


    "Hey, help me strip them. Some of these clothes could be sold for a decent amount if we cleaned them up a bit."


    "Must you focus entirely on riches?" asked Rokas. "Surely our mission is of greater importance."


    "Yeah, but if we hack off their heads first, the clothes will be even more bloody," said Taha. "Now come on, we''ve got looting to do."


    Taha had a very meticulous means of looking. She had a talent for weighing the value of what they found on the corpses. When they were finished, they cut off the heads and hurled them into the bodies into the river. With that done, they backtracked.


    "Nendas, catch!" said Taha.


    Nendas reached up, caught a necklace as it arrived, and looked at it in disdain.


    "It''s really valuable," said Taha. "You want it?"


    "I can''t legally own property," said Nendas. "As I have told you many times. At least, beyond what is necessary for my trade."


    "Yeah, great," said Taha. "She''s the Goddess of Peace, and you''re a professional murderer.


    "Who''s going to care if you take a silver necklace as a gift."


    "A silver necklace cannot be justified to a crowd," said Nendas. "To justify becoming a warrior, I made up a philosophy about gender roles. There had never been a male Avatar of Jaha before, and people liked the idea of a warrior monk. So I escaped my limits.


    "So I got away with... questionable actions for the greater good. If I start wearing a necklace, how do I justify that?"


    "You could always say Jaha is a has-been, and no one cares what she thinks," noted Taha.


    "Her religion is growing," said Nendas.


    "But it''s not the same faith the Hasafa have," noted Taha. "It''s militant, a fighting god. Nothing like the feeble pacifist doormat you''re saying prayers to. You remember when that mob tried to burn a meeting place down?


    "All of the worshippers were former soldiers. They killed hundreds of the rioters before we dispersed them."


    "That was a good day," noted Nendas. "Samrasa lost a lot of supporters. And a lot of atheists died."


    "Frankly, Nendas," said Taha. "I find your attitude insensitive."


    "You''re not dead, Taha," said Nendas. "And seeing as you don''t believe in anything, I don''t think you have a right to stand on principle."


    "Good point," said Taha. "I guess I sort regard myself as a god if you''re really technically. We should murder all the atheists after Samrasa dies.


    "Their religion is more trouble than it''s worth. And it might be fun to give them a taste of their own medicine. I''ve got some really good ideas for executions we could try. It could be fun to go into that business.


    "Switch from murderer to torturer, you know."


    "You can take it up with Kalif if we''re still alive after he takes power," said Nendas. "I don''t have any power for that kind of thing, even if I wanted it."


    "Don''t you think that you should..." Rokas paused. "Well, try to get back your power. If becoming head of the Hasafa Clan is so important to you."


    "And how do you suggest I do that?" asked Nendas.


    "...perhaps you should seek out King Samrasa," said Rokas. "And get him to release you. It may be that the Gods shall move him to be reasonable."


    Nendas nodded and reflected it was a good idea. It was also a smart move by Samrasa, since it would cement Nendas'' loyalty. "Let''s discuss that later."


    As they made their return journey, Nendas found their path drawing off. He was not certain whether his will did it, or the will of another, or simple chance. However, whoever it was, they deviated from their road at some point and soon came within sight of a clearing. It stood between a roadside and a hill, and there was a spring.


    And in the center, Uncle was meditating. Or attempting to, at any rate, he was no good at it. He was, by now, even fatter than he had been in the tent. With him were a large number of armed guards, perhaps a dozen. They were mercenaries, some assigned by Kalif since Hasafa could not be trusted. And Nendas knew his chance was here.


    "Lord Munsuf, are you certain you should be out all this way?" asked a guard.


    "I need to escape from the city," said Munsuf. These surroundings are far preferable to it. I keep... remembering things."


    "Still, it is a danger," said the guard.


    "Danger is everywhere," said Uncle. "Samrasa has gone mad, and he won''t even let me in to see him! My own family is now after me through no fault of my own! At least here, the commoners aren''t reeking up the place.


    "I can focus here. I must find a way to get control. Samrasa has promised to restore my control, but he hasn''t acted."


    It was a concept Nendas could relate to. And it made him hate Lord Munsuf all the more.


    "Nendas..." said Rokas. "Perhaps it would be wise to let this pass."


    "Not this time," said Nendas. "This time, there is no mercy."


    Drawing his sword, Nendas stepped out openly into the clearing, and the guards looked up. Yet Munsuf was paying him no heed, pacing before a serene waterfall that brought no peace. Fish were swimming in and out of the rocks, but they had no serenity. The rose bushes were dying and overgrown. "...I must find a way to restore my finances. I''ve been wasteful so far.


    "In time, perhaps, we can salvage the situation. Many of my clan have won glory in the military. If we have another war, we can get riches and-"


    "The time for such words was long ago, Munsuf," said Nendas. He wondered if Munsuf felt any genuine regret. Probably not.


    Munsuf did not regret that he murdered his brother and ruined his clan, or he would have contacted Nendas. He regretted that he was suffering consequences for his actions. If nothing had gone wrong for him, Munsuf would have been happy to keep whoring.


    "Nendas?" asked Munsuf, stepping back.


    Nendas looked to the guards, who drew their swords. Yet, there was fear in their eyes. He''d gained a reputation for ruthlessness. "You have done nothing to me personally. Leave us; I will speak with my uncle."


    The guards shuddered at his words, but they stood their ground. Admirable, but it was going to get them killed. Munsuf halted. "Nephew.


    "What is the meaning of this?"


    Nendas looked at him in shock at his audacity. "You killed my Father, your brother who was completely loyal to you. You bankrupted our family and shamed our honor. You cowered away from war, and when you joined, at last, persecuted me. You disgraced Jaha by attempting to use her as a pawn in your political games. You had prostrated the Hasafa before Samrasa, who before was equal. You embraced a decadent lifestyle that has consumed us.


    "You engage in depravity! Even as you, you allow men to be crucified on suspicion for your crimes! AND YOU RUINED MY LIFE!!


    "What do you think the meaning of this is, Munsuf?!"


    Munsuf cringed back. "My daughter... she... she''s here in Tarasif, without me-"


    Daughter? Munsuf had had a daughter, a girl Nendas had known. But her memory was fading, and her face did not come to mind. What was the name of his Father or the servants? Had it not seemed important? Sarafi was her name, wasn''t it?


    Everything had blurred. "I don''t even remember her name right now."


    Perhaps it had been driven from his mind, or perhaps he was simply past caring about anything.


    "She has read about you! She''s asked!" said Munsuf, grasping to save himself. "Don''t you remember the times when we were a family? Please, for the sake of..."


    "Lord Munsuf, what are you doing? There are only three of them," said a guard.


    "Idiot, it''s not just Nendas there," said Munsuf. "Queen Jaha, please. You have long been the Hasafa''s patron; I beg you to stop my nephew. Events have driven him to this, and, for the sake of the faithful, please stop him."


    And then Nendas knew who had been directing her. The spirit which had slowly been taking hold of who he was from within came to the front. Taha and Rokas stepped back as light radiated from somewhere, and Nendas realized it was from him. A divine process he could not comprehend went through him as he felt an all-loving warmth within him.


    It was tempting to fall into it, even as the darker aspects of his spirit were appropriated at last. But he held on and heard his voice speaking with an echo. "I do not remember your faith, Munsuf.


    "I''ve sought to find it, to fuel and raise it from your spirit, but your soul is nothing. I blew the embers for years, and when they cooled, I placed more fuel. But there is no flame left to raise.


    "I inhabited your wife, among the most beautiful women in the world, but you never valued her save as a luxury item. Even her intelligence and ability were but an irritation, for it reminded you of your own failings. For you did not want to better yourself.


    "I raised a great flame from your brother, hoping that his light might aid you. Yet you quenched him for the sake of jealous spite. You set him up to be murdered in the street for the sake of your lover, Samrasa.


    "Your daughter was granted talent and power and would have made for a great avatar. Yet your influence turned her against me. I made allowances and allowed Nendas to become my vessel. From there, you sought to destroy him."


    "I didn''t..." Munsuf fell to his knees. "Jaha I..."


    "No more excuses," said Jaha. "I have tried to foster faith, but your heart is dead to all but selfish fear and hedonistic lust. And you have spread your nature across the world. You and your accomplice Samrasa have corrupted the heart of Tarasif. Misery and death have consumed the lands while you wallow in gilded filth.


    "I never knew you, Munsuf.


    "I know nothing but a young boy forced to murder one he might have called a friend because he feared death. And he knew his uncle would not help him against Samrasa.


    "Once my mercy bade me labor endlessly for peace. I have sought to create harmony.


    "But now I seek justice for those you have wronged. AND THEY SHALL HAVE IT!!"


    And then something happened.


    The guards screamed in horror, and Munsuf screamed loudest. A vast pit opened up in the earth, and hooks with chains lashed out. They sank into Munsuf''s body, tearing his flesh and burning him as he howled in terror. This was too much for the guards, who broke and fled as great hounds emerged from the ground.


    Their teeth sank into Munsuf''s flesh, tearing great chunks from his body. Blood spewed into the pool but vanished almost at once. And yet, he continued to scream as he was dragged down into a chasm of fire. And when one looked at it, there seemed no end. It descended further into horror after horror, with no respite.


    With a final howl, Munsuf was pulled down with an incoherent scream for mercy before the crack shut tight. Birds resumed chirping. Wind blew again, and all sign of his presence was gone with his damnation.


    Nendas wasn''t exactly sure what, but he heard the screams of agony from Munsuf. A wail of unfathomable terror and fear as a red light opened from beneath. Munsuf''s guards fled in every direction, crying for mercy. Munsuf himself was drawn into the cold earth with a scream.


    And then he was gone.


    Nendas stood before a serene waterfall, looking at his own reflection. But he saw little of himself in the reflection now. More and more of him was Jaha with each day. And he wondered if the death of Munsuf meant the end of that.


    "...Taha, you''re out of excuses. Jaha just dragged Munsuf down to hell," said Rokas.


    "Earthquake and mass hallucination," said Taha. "The superstitions of the guards probably scared them off. And the ground is not disturbed at all because-"


    "Shut up," said Rokas.


    "Right, sure," said Taha.


    Nendas smiled at the untold horrors Munsuf was going through right now. Taha stepped back, a bit disturbed, and Rokas stared.


    It was an ending. But it did not end.


    Now for the rest.

 Chapter Twelve: Not so Imaginary

    Taha hadn''t made love to Nendas in a while.


    She''d always enjoyed it, even if he was always very stiff in it all. The feel of him beneath her made her feel like he was an extension of herself. But that was when they''d been around fifteen.


    Now they were seventeen, and Nendas had been growing distant.


    Taha had no illusions of marrying him; she hoped he''d marry some compliant doormat. One who wouldn''t stand between them at all. Marriage was just a contract to get another person''s money anyway.


    But that was neither here nor there.


    This silence was deafening.


    "At last," said Rokas. "Tarasif. No doubt our noble king shall be pleased with our success." He almost kept the sarcasm out of his tone.


    "What world do you live in?" asked Taha with a laugh. "We''ll be lucky if he acknowledges what we did. Wait, was that sarcasm?"


    "I do not know what you are talking about," said Rokas with a grin.


    Rokas had a way of coping with what they did.


    He''d never quite fit into the professional murderer lifestyle. But he had been thrust into it to make a living. When King Samrasa had run out of people to kill outside his borders, he turned to his people. Sure, there were some excuses. This god practiced child sacrifice, and one wore the wrong clothes.


    But in the end, it was all about control.


    Samrasa could have just as easily been targeting people for wearing a certain hat. It would not have mattered so long as the thing helped him get rich and feel like a visionary.


    "We should not speak of things just yet," said Nendas. "Remember-"


    "Don''t boast about our accomplishments," said Taha. "It draws a bad eye. I know."


    All of them had different ways of handling being professional murderers.


    Rokas chose to see only the good and dwell in a fantasy world. He came out of it just enough to reign Nendas in and did his work. Nendas, on the other hand, focused largely on getting what he wanted out of life. He avoided stupid decisions that could mess with what he wanted. And he took what he wanted when he could.*


    Taha, meanwhile, had a different approach.


    Taha didn''t care at all. She enjoyed being on the road and fully expected she''d die in battle in a ditch somewhere. She''d had a chance to retire in peace and had left it behind and gladly at that. She wanted to be with Nendas and never have to work menial labor again. Her days of cleaning and doing odd jobs were a hated memory.


    Tarasif stood before them now, and the ancient stone gates were like the entrance to a tomb. The structures were like great beehives, each of a different size. Taha had come to this place from some land far away. The name escaped her, and she was never going back. Why would she? No one had been allowed to drink alcohol, and her parents frowned on her killing people. To say nothing of ditching Tamar after she outlived her usefulness.


    Not that Tamar existed, of course. Taha just found it easier to think of the church dedicated to Tamar as Tamar. The names of those who had trained her have long-forgotten memories. Her fellow initiates had never been anything but competition.


    Taha lived to do what she was best at.


    "Hmm, so they''ve decided to repurpose some of the temples after all," said Nendas. He was looking up at one of the older temples. Some priests were being herded out in chains. Once, they''d been very important. "Good, the stonework was excellent, and destroying it would be unfortunate."


    "I cannot see King Samrasa destroying so ancient a structure," said Rokas, not looking at the chains.


    "Perhaps," said Nendas. "But some of his followers are less respectful of the past."


    "Yeah, I..." Taha paused. Suddenly she felt something and thought it was a cold hand on her face, but it was the wind. "I''m going to get a drink, I think."


    "Why?" asked Nendas. "You usually ask us to go with you."


    "I need the alcohol," said Taha. "And I need to think. Besides, you never say yes anyway."


    "I may join you later at the usual place," said Rokas.


    Taha turned and walked away, hands in her pockets. As she did, she looked upwards toward the sky above. The night was falling, and the stars were coming out in force. The moon above her was invisible in the darkness, covered by clouds. Tamar was said to manifest her power strongest the more the moon was visible.


    Oddly enough, Taha''s feet carried her to a place she didn''t usually go. Getting a drink at the tavern, Taha almost drank. But she hesitated, feeling as though she was waiting for something.


    And then came in through the door.


    The girl Taha saw was her age and, put, absolutely gorgeous. She had these long, flawless legs that her clothes clung to, and the knives at her belt were amazing. Seriously, those things were of unworldly craftsmanship. You could throw them straight through fully steel armor and still kill your man.


    Hmm, hadn''t Taha been looking over the rest of her? Eh, the knives were much more interesting than the woman''s body, anyway. Although it was a very nice body, Taha wondered why she was there. And why she was carrying a fan.


    To her surprise, the other girl moved right up to her. "You called Taha?"


    "I''m sorry, what?" said Taha. She''d never seen this woman before in her life.


    What disturbed her was that the girl was looking up Taha much the way Taha had been her. She was used to being the most outgoing person in a conversation and felt somewhat naked. Her eyes, were bright blue and only stood out all the more by her hair.


    "You''ve certainly changed a lot since you joined up with me from your village," said the girl. "I can tell you''ve increased your skills a great deal, and from the looks of things, you''ve killed people. A lot of people, actually.


    "Though I guess you''d have to make a living somehow."


    Okay, this had gone from strange to surreal. And why were other people in the bar visibly leaving? The bartender went into the back room. "I''m sorry, what? I... have we met."


    "Yes, obviously we''ve met," said the girl. "Where have you been? Why haven''t we talked in five years?"


    Taha thought this was a very strange way to ensnare someone. She finished her drink in one gulp. "I have no idea who you are."


    "A joke," said the girl. "Ah, very funny. Drop the act. I want to know where you have been and what my techniques are being used for?"


    Okay, so... some sort of zealot. "...What, are you part of the Cult of Tamar?"


    "Did you take a hit to the head when I wasn''t looking? The answer is obvious," said the girl.


    "Okay, is this some really weird form of interrogation?" asked Taha. "Some sort of loyalty test?


    Because if the king wants to disappear me-"


    "In a manner of speaking," said the girl. "Then again, I''d say you were the one who tested me first. You did call me down here. Well, first, you scoffed at my ability to intervene, then you said I was welcome to show up. So, here I am."


    Taha stared at her, not finding this funny. "...You''re claiming to be Tamar."


    "No, really?" asked Tamar sarcastically.


    "...No," said Taha with a laugh. "I left the cult years ago. I did good work there. I don''t owe you anything."


    "I never said you did," said Tamara. "You do have a relationship with me, though, and you''ve got obligations to fulfill. Why didn''t you ever try to keep in touch with me?"


    Taha decided that the possibility of sleeping with her was not worth the headache. So she stood up. "...You''re a lunatic.


    "You are not a Goddess." And she walked toward the door. The latch did not turn.


    "How do you know I''m not a Goddess?" asked Tamar.


    Taha looked up. "Please, if you were Tamar, you''d have power over winds and-"


    A vast gust of wind howled throughout the city street outside. The window shutters were flung open, and air howled around them. Taha went for a knife and found she couldn''t quite get it out of its sheathe.


    "I''m sorry, I can''t hear you over the wind howling in our ears," said Tamar with a sly smile.


    Taha paused. "...Coincidence. You used the cloud patterns to predict that wind and timed our conversation, so it happened then. I''ve done something like it."


    "Have you?" asked Tamar. "You mean when you suggested Samrasa engage the enemy since you saw clouds coming. You knew the wind would be at your back, hurting their arrows and speeding your charge.


    "Which is all very impressive.


    "Still, I''m not sure it''s quite in the league of what you suggest."


    "Well, all you''d have to do is time it for when I was in this place with the right weather patterns and..." Taha hesitated.


    "Predict the exact moment a gale would blow in and steer your conversation to it?" asked Tamar. "I mean, I did do that. These winds were on their way here weeks ago. But I''m not sure how being able to do that disproves me being a god."


    "...You could have been among the other priestesses," said Taha. "You''d need to do a lot of research, but... You''re some kind of stalker, aren''t you? You''ve been following me around-"


    "I was among the priestesses!" said Tamar, sounding offended. "I was the person they were dedicating themselves to!"


    "No, you weren''t. Gods don''t exist," said Taha. "It''s just a get-rich-quick scheme. A means of making sure the poor don''t murder the rich and take their material possessions."


    "Get rich quick, scheme?" asked Tamar. "What about all the knife techniques I taught you? Or the hooks and rabid dogs that tore up Munsuf? That was a personal touch I added for you.


    "Though he was only waiting for damnation by this point. You can''t let mortals get away with that thing, or it sets a precedent."


    "I''ve made a pretty good living off them," said Taha. "And being able to kill people is very useful for keeping your power intact."


    Tamar sighed. "...This is getting us nowhere. I could summon down a host of demons, and you''d explain it away as a hallucination. So let''s do things your way.


    "I''ll tell you what. I''ll challenge you to a fight. If you can defeat me, I''ll leave you alone. But if I win, you must start listening to what I say." Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Sure, whatever you want," said Taha. "This has wasted enough of my time as it is."


    "Well then. Let''s step outside," said Tamar.


    And they did. Taha needed to figure out how they ended up in a clearing overlooking the city. The stars were illuminating them. Tamar, however, was spinning her fan and shedding her knives. In a moment, the one fan became two that she held. "For this match, you can use any means you want. No restrictions at all."


    "Fine then," said Taha, sick of this.


    Drawing a knife, she hurled it straight at Tamar''s throat. Boring and practical, it sailed with perfect accuracy and-


    A sudden gust of wind saw it veer off to plunge into a tree.


    "...Hmm, you went straight for the throat. Very bold," said Tamar. "I guess you missed, though. But I''m sure that was just a fluke. Try again."


    Taha felt no wind. Moving in a circle, she hurled three knives at Tamar''s head, hand, and heart. However, even as she did, the wind kicked in and spun them around over Tamar. Suddenly they launched toward Taha, and she narrowly dodged. The blades to were driven down suddenly to plunge into the ground.


    "Hmm, those are some strange wind patterns, aren''t they? Want to try again?" asked Tamar.


    Taha stayed calm.


    It was obvious some magic was at work here, so that misdirection would be necessary. Hurling a dagger at Tamar as a diversion, Taha then went on to her real attack. She threw another at a slow pace. Then she threw a second after it, knocking it in midair. As a result, the second blade spun toward Tamar, who was busy knocking aside the diversion-


    And then Tamar was gone.


    Leaping high into the air, she surged through it and landed behind Taha. Taha whirled around and saw Tamar''s face inches from her own. Taha tried to move, but looking into those eyes froze her muscles solid.


    "Huh, and here I thought you were going to show me a trick or two," said Tamar, licking Taha''s lips and showing fangs. "But the only thing you''ve used are the most mundane moves I teach most people. The ones are practical for combat. Fine, let''s add some excitement." She raised her fans, and the surface became reflective. A sliver of moon was reflected down on them. "I''ll give you until the moon is full to impress me."


    Then she leaped away.


    Ranged combat was going to be useless here. So Taha drew a dagger and just rushed at her. Even as she did, however, the winds kicked up to immense degrees, pushing her back. The closer she got to Tamar, the stronger the pressure became until she was thrown back. Spinning backward, Taha found another wind catch her underneath and slow her fall.


    "Still nothing, huh?" asked Tamar. The moon was now a half-moon.


    "What do you expect?!" said Taha. "There... there''s a hurricane going on around us. How am I supposed to throw daggers in this kind of wind."


    "And who do you think summoned the hurricane, Taha?" asked Tamar. "Who controls the air those daggers you throw go through?


    "I said any means.


    "You''re the master knife thrower who thinks she can beat me at my own tricks. Prove it."


    Taha was starting to think Tamar was not an ordinary crazy person. "I...


    "You can''t be..."


    She couldn''t be Tamar, could she?


    "Been a while, hasn''t it?" asked Tamar. "Glad it''s finally sinking in. I don''t remember you being this slow, though. I guess working as a hired killer hasn''t been good for your sense of faith.


    "You really should do something about all that blood on your hands. It takes away from your appeal. I liked you as a cheerful innocent; I relished the idea of tearing that innocence up. Though this new look has some nice qualities too."


    "Who..." Taha gasped. "What is this? Who are you?" And when the hell had she ever been a cheerful innocent?


    "Oh, come on! We''ve been over this!" said Tamar. "After you built your entire career on my blessings, the least you could do is remember me. The moon is nearly full, by the way."


    "Blessings?" asked Taha. "What are you talking about? I didn''t learn knife throwing from you. My teachers were older than me..."


    "...Have you been hit on the head recently? I''ve told you who I am. Several times now," said Tamar.


    "You..." Taha shifted. "You can''t be Tamar the Wind Goddess!"


    "Why not? I control the winds," said Tamar.


    "Because gods aren''t real!" said Taha,


    Tamar sighed. "Did you not pay attention to what I just did to you?


    "I''m not happy, Taha. I gave you all those abilities and favorable winds for them, and you''ve given me... hmm, let''s see... no sacrifices at altars. No letters. You''ve never tried to get in touch since leaving the cult.


    "What, did you think you stopped being mine because you weren''t going to the temples?"


    "You aren''t Tamar!" said Taha. "You somehow predicted that those winds would be here now and used them to..." No, that was nearly as absurd as Tamar being a god. "You can''t be real."


    And then Tamar was in front of her, cupping her by the cheek and fixing her with those eyes. And before Taha could even think about moving, she felt Tamar''s lips. The blonde drew back, motioning. As she did, Taha was lifted off the ground by warm winds. She tried to get free.


    This is a hallucination. She''d been drugged or something.


    "I am real, obviously," said Tamar. "Now, answer the question. Why have you waited until now to try and talk to me? Why did I have to track you down on the opposite side of the world to get your attention? And why have you brainwashed yourself into believing I don''t exist!"


    Tamar looked angry now. Angry and hurt.


    "Um... well I..." Taha struggled to get out. "Well, Tarasif is sort of in the middle of trying to destroy all the religions and um...


    "I lost my faith!"


    Tamar sat down as the winds raised her upward. "Yeah, I''m not buying it, Taha. I could understand a lack of offerings because of King Samrasa, but no prayers. Not a thought spared for me? Every invocation of my power is marked with, ''but it''s not really from a Goddess.''


    "What is the real reason you broke your oath as my priestess?"


    This was all just a hallucination. So it couldn''t hurt, to be honest, right? "I never wanted to be a priestess!"


    Tamar stopped. "What?


    "What do you mean? Then why did you join the cult?"


    "I... I didn''t think you were real!" said Taha.


    Tamar scoffed. "Oh sure, that''s believable. You had a crisis of faith only after training in all the highest arts of the trade. A crisis of faith that nobody noticed at all. That happened right as you were being chosen as my priestess. And coincidentally, only happened AFTER you learned all the high arts.


    "Tell me why you left. You put far too much work into this for it to be that."


    "I..." Taha felt as though Tamar was growing ever larger. She was shaking now. "I didn''t think I was worthy of the position."


    "I can tell when you''re lying, Taha," said Tamar. "And if you lie again, I''m going to get very cross with you.


    "Answer the question."


    "I never wanted to be a priestess!" screamed Taha at last. "I never even wanted to join the religion! I didn''t care about the faith or the ceremonies! I didn''t want anything to do with you! I just wanted to learn the knife tricks!"


    The winds stopped. Taha was put gently down, and Tamar got back on her feet. For a moment, Tamar walked over to her, sheathed her fans, and put them away. "...I will give you credit. That was not a lie.


    "And I''m not cross.


    "I''m enraged.


    "You entered my cult, observed my rituals, took my blessings, and then left me alone on the altar. And judging by some of the knife techniques you spread out here, I''d say you taught a thing or two to others."


    "I didn''t..." This wasn''t happening; she was having a drug-induced breakdown. She''d come out of it or die. "I didn''t think you were real."


    "Well, I am real, Taha. And I am very, very angry with you," said Tamar simply. "Do you have anything to say?"


    What could Taha say here? Well, she was completely screwed, so she had to play along with this maniac. So, Taha took the drug-induced feelings of guilt and used them to repent. "I... I''m sorry. I''m sorry, I didn''t think there were any gods. I''ll... I''ll hang up my knives! I''ll never tell anyone about your techniques again; please just don''t-"


    Before Taha could finish, Tamar flicked her wrist, and the winds lifted her up again. "Oh, I''m sorry, Taha. You seem to be under the impression that I came here for your knives.


    "I came here for you."


    "M-me?" asked Taha.


    "Yes, you thought I wasn''t real. That you were scamming my priests instead of me," said Tamar. "Obviously, you were wrong. But I guess you didn''t think you were cheating a Goddess.


    "So, I''ll treat this offense like one mortal to another. Like we made a contract between equals."


    Thank goodness, this psychopath was going to let her go. She could get the city guard or pay her off. "I... thank you, I...


    "I promise you won''t regret this; I won''t-"


    And then the winds deposited Taha into the arms of Tamar, who was giving her a very cold smile. Taha tried to move and was stuck in place.


    "You wanted to learn my techniques," said Tamar. "And in exchange, you owe me everything you are down to your very soul.


    "Not a very good deal to make with a mortal."


    Before Taha could speak again, Tamar, the Goddess, rose into the sky. She carried her like a bride and pulled her into the clouds. And all Taha could do was faint.


    *This chapter was based on information from a different source. This leads to a disconnect of sorts. Information previously covered is gone over again. There different interpretations of Nendas and Rokas, thus different portrayal.


    Tanith has deliberately altered Rokas'' exchange with Taha early in the chapter. In the initial writing, it was completely genuine. Taha also seems to be less violent and deranged in this reading of events.


    I have left it unaltered for the sake of a faithful adaptation. It is certainly not because Tanith was looking over my shoulder.

 Chapter Thirteen: Karma

    The palace of King Samrasa stood at the highest point in the city. It overlooked events fully and had many balconies. When he was a boy, Nendas wanted to live in a palace. Yet, it had changed. Now he yearned for the halls of the Hasafa Clan household.


    But he would never return.


    The walls were now covered in gold and silver, placed into the walls. The results of Samrasa''s conquests. Both abroad and taken from the homes and temples of those who resisted. As he had walked through the palace, Nendas thought he''d like it better the old way.


    But no matter.


    The gold and silver on these walls could be taken off to pay to deal with the crisis. It was a far better use for it than placing it in temples, where they had to get the Gods'' approval. Now it could be called for directly by the King.


    Entering the throne room, Nendas hated it outright.


    King Samrasa sat on a throne in a room designed to make him appear far larger than he was. His eyes were bright blue, and it was said he saw more than most men. Now, however, age was beginning to take hold of him. And all the armored guards could not distract from such.


    "Welcome, Nendas," said King Samrasa. "I''m told you have a report on the renegades of Elranor."


    "A report," said Nendas. "And a vision from Jaha, the Goddess of Peace." If this didn''t work, Nendas was a dead man. But he''d make his enemies bleed before he went out.


    "Explain it, then," said Samrasa.


    Nendas explained everything, albeit through a certain lens. He slanted the truth in a way he knew Samrasa would expect him to. It was a common way of destroying Gods that were not offensive to the people''s minds. Jaha had been spared this long because her massive nature made her... harmless.*


    However, Samrasa would want her destroyed sooner or later as well, as was right. Nendas had to cut his ties and make himself useful before that happened.


    "From there, we completed our mission and returned here?" Finished Nendas.


    "And you are quite certain of this vision, Nendas?" asked Samrasa, looking up at the images of demons and gods. Each showed Samrasa putting them down with his spear as though he had personally thrust it into them.


    While symbolic, future generations would have it as their truth.


    "Yes, I am certain," said Nendas. "I believe that the remaining Gods are preparing to move on. They intend to entrust the future to us now that we are ready to live without false idols. The vision is a clear indication of this."


    Nendas had reported the vision as was; one didn''t lie about what they saw in a god''s vision. But he could misinterpret it to mean what he wanted it to mean. The people had been doing that for decades.


    "...I see," said Samrasa. "Well, this is very fortunate timing. It will go a long way to helping us purge the less savory gods. Especially the most reasonable ones who support us.


    "The Hasafa, however, may not share your optimistic viewpoint."


    The Hasafa, his cursed clan. This was his opportunity. "My uncle, has plans to pretend as though Sarafi is Jaha incarnate, I believe. The means of shoring up support behind his reign." No need to mention his uncle being dragged to hell; Samrasa might have him executed for that.


    "I suppose you have an alternative," said Samrasa.


    "There is one King," said Nenedas. "Declare my service to Jaha null and void."


    Samrasa shifted. "...That is an unprecedented request, Nendas."


    "You have the authority now," said Nendas. "Jaha has ceded her authority to you; you are the mortal manifestation of that will. She has no further need of my services and understands that it was beyond my control.


    "With the gods departing this plane and ceding control to men, why should I continue? Why should I have my future sacrificed for them?"


    "This is a very difficult thing you are asking, Nendas," said Samrasa. "Even if the gods would allow it, the precedent could be dangerous. Perhaps circumstances were different, but not as they are now."


    Samrasa wanted him to do something. "How would circumstances have to be different?"


    "The only times the avatar of Jaha is allowed to depart their service is if the clan needs them more," said Samrasa. "For instance, when there is no legitimate heir. Or when the Clan has become too few.


    "But the Hasafa Clan is at its zenith."


    Something that had been waiting a very long time within Nendas came to the forefront, and he went very still. "...It''s zenith? Is that what you call it?"


    Samrasa looked at him in bemusement. "Hmm?"


    "...King Samrasa, may I speak plainly?" asked Nendas.


    "You may," said Samrasa.


    Nendas thought about how to say this and just used the truth. "You promised years ago to arrange my return to the Hasafa Clan. I have served you loyally this entire time. I have done everything you asked of me and exceeded what was required.


    "Now, my clan is verging on collapse.


    "The treasury is empty, wasted on lavish parties. My Uncle spends more time here currying favor than in his lands. Even now, he has taken merchant loans to pay off other loans. If things continue like this, the Hasafa cannot serve you effectively."


    Samrasa turned away. "We will discuss this matter another time."


    "My clan will die if something is not done," said Nendas. "What other time is there?


    "I ask that you honor your promise and allow me to return to my clan. Or failing that, admit that you cannot honor it."


    Samrasa went still and finally laughed scornfully. "...So, we are to drop pretenses, then?


    "Very well. The truth is that I never once intended to honor my word."


    Nendas said nothing. He had no intention of giving the man the dignity of a response. Samrasa took this for stunned silence. "You''re far too trusting, really, Nendas. Breaking promises is only ''evil'' when people know you are doing it. You should have listened more to your friend, Taha. You might have had some understanding of what was going on.


    "I used you to discredit the faith of Jaha and then for a few other things. And I''ll admit, as tools went, you were a clumsy one. Trying to exile the priests of Elranor instead of executing them was a near disaster. One Ralign set right."


    He was going on for a while. Nendas was looking forward to slashing out his eyes. When he finished, he''d castrate the old bastard. Samrasa wouldn''t have eyes at the end of this; he wouldn''t have ears or a tongue.


    Nendas would cut off his hands at the wrist, his feet below the ankles, and his nose. It would be slow to maximize the agony he felt. But he wouldn''t kill him; no, he''d heal him and leave him to wallow in horror and misery. The thoughts clashed against something.


    Samrasa moved toward him, looking somewhat irritated. "Of course, removing Ralign was a necessity. I''ve found that keeping one main subordinate in hand for too long can be dangerous. All the more with how he was beginning to warm up to you. He becomes less harsh with the imbeciles who still worship the gods.


    "I used you for my purposes and have found you other uses. But I see no reason why I should endanger a more valuable subordinate for your sake. After all, who else could run the Hasafa Clan into the ground like Munsuf. And all this time, he imagines I''ll declare him my heir.


    "I''m terribly sorry to tell you this since you were so fond of him. But the Samrasa you believe in never even existed."


    Nendas sighed as he tried to go for his sword. Now was the time for his revenge. Yet his hand would not move. "...Are you done embarrassing yourself?"


    Dead silence, and now it was Samrasa who looked surprised.


    "I have never believed in you, Samrasa," said Nendas.


    "What?" said Samrasa, shocked.


    "I did not believe in you for the merest fraction of an instant," explained Nendas. "At no point during our association did I put even the smallest amount of trust or faith in you? Not once did I feel even the smallest amount of affection or respect for you as a person.


    "I know you murdered my Father, Samrasa. I know that you''re sleeping with my Uncle while having men crucified for the same sin. I knew that the assassination attempt by Kulat on you was a lie from the moment it happened. And you don''t have to kill me to keep it a secret; everyone else knows as well.


    "All the servants in this palace know what you do when you think no one is watching. All your hired soldiers know as well. The walls have ears, and the woods have eyes."


    "That''s impossible!" said Samrasa. "You couldn''t-"


    "It''s inevitable," said Nendas. "Ordinary people are a lot smarter than you give them credit for, and they have been here a lot longer than I have. The servants pretend not to notice because you could have them chopped into tiny pieces. The nobles pretended not to notice because doing so would be an act of rebellion. Or because they don''t care.


    "And the soldiers?


    "They either serve money or the King.


    "But you aren''t the King, Samrasa.


    "I''m terribly sorry since you seem to think he''s a mask you can put on and take off at any time. But the truth is, the King people admire is only someone you are pretending to be. You are neither wise nor strong.


    "You are but a feeble shadow of the one who earned their admiration long ago. Soon to be hidden in the darkness, you called down."


    And it was at this point that Samrasa was standing in front of a very dangerous young man. One ample reason to want him dead. His guards were near at hand but needed to be farther. By the time they came in, Nendas could put a sword through him. "...Why are you here?"


    "I wanted to allow you to set right some of what you had done wrong," said Nendas, but it was Jaha now. She was speaking through him. "That is all. You can still turn back, you know. Call off your atrocities against the gods chosen and reform.


    "There is time to make up for Ralign-"


    "Get out of my palace!" snarled Samrasa.


    Nendas sought to lunge forward and make good on his throat. But his body would not move, found himself turning and walking away by a will other than his own. "As you wish."


    Walking out the door, he was surrounded by many guards with drawn blades. Nendas looked to Kalif. He was a Dinisian mercenary and bore paler skin. "...Is this done by the orders of Samrasa?"


    "I''m not sure he is in a state to give orders, and I''ve got a feeling he''ll want you dead soon enough," said Kalif. "I thought you''d kill him after he sent my men out. Though I would have executed you if you had."


    He''d have failed. Nendas would kill him, him, and his whole worthless race! "Kalif, is it?" asked Nendas. "Would you say this city is in a stable position?"


    "Fairly, yes," said Kalif. "But, sooner or later, something will flare up with this kind of action on the King''s part. My job is to act as the Captain of his guard."


    "Have you heard what happened to Ralign?" asked Nendas.


    "Some of it, yeah," said Kalif. "He was killed in battle."


    "No," said Nendas. "I killed him myself on King Samrasa''s orders. It was decided that he had grown beyond Samrasa''s control. Ralign had served him since he was a boy for years. I''ve served him for years."


    Silence.


    "Are you trying to get me to betray my employer?" asked Kalif.


    "Is your employer the King of Tarasif? Or Tarasif itself?" asked Nendas.


    "They are the same," said Kalif.


    "Are they?" asked Nendas. "The King is a man the Gods have given divine authority. Samrasa himself has never denied this when convenient. The King uses the money he taxes from the citizens of Tarasif; he spends their lives in war. If a King rules only for himself and destroys the temples to the gods he is meant to serve, is he legitimate?"


    "What exactly do you want me to do?" asked Kalif.


    "Nothing," said Nendas. "Remain alert and do as you think is right as you have thus far. Samrasa is nearly seventy and will die in a decade or two. And without any heir, everything he built will collapse.


    "Unless something is done to save it.


    "I probably won''t live much longer after this. So I will simply tell you to have faith.


    "I don''t have any left." Then, setting a hand on Kalif''s shoulder, he moved past, unstopped.


    And as he left the palace, walking as a hollow shell, rage overtook him.


    He could have killed Samrasa right there! No one could have stopped him! But instead, he''d walked out at the hour when he could have won! Now he was sure to die, and Samrasa would live!


    Curse Jaha and curse the day he''d ever taken her mark. Nendas made a mental note to give it to Taha and Rokas when he saw them. However, as he walked, he was in no mood to do so. He didn''t want to speak to anyone at all.


    It had never been anything but a desperate hope.


    Samrasa stood nothing to gain by restoring Nendas to his old position of power. Nothing other than repaying Nendas for his long service. And why do that when he could be murdered once he''d outlived his usefulness?


    After all, the Hasafa had been staunchly loyal under Uncle.


    Uncle.


    Uncle had thought he''d gotten very well out of all this, didn''t he? He thought he''d beaten Nendas. But now, he was screaming in perpetual agony, enduring horrors beyond imagining. It was too good for him; he deserved far worse. They all did!


    If he could damn this worthless city to hell and everyone in it, he''d do it!


    However, as he walked the streets, he saw Sarafi and her friend, one of those she often walked with.


    "Wow, Sarafi, that necklace you have is so pretty!" said the friend. She looked to be the daughter of a noble.


    Why should Nendas die alone? He could make sure no one was left to pray for Uncle. Kill Sarafi and end his line. Murder all his supporters too.


    He could probably kill the worthless little bitch fairly easily. Lure her away, and snap her neck. Then he could go after Uncle. Kill him too, put out his eyes. He''d kill them all and carve out their eyes! There wouldn''t be a single Hasafa left when he was done with them!


    "I know, right?" said Safari. "I got it from a vendor from the east. You can''t find gems like this anywhere else."


    Nendas tailed after her. She was, what, fourteen? Naive and stupid to come out here without an escort. "...Sarafi.


    "It''ll be easy. I can just get her alone. Drive a knife into her, kill her. Make her pay. Make the Hasafa pay for what they did to him, to Father, the cowards.


    "I can hide the body, I can..." Except his hand would not move. Nendas could feel her cursed presence trying to keep him back. Jaha held him in place, and her will was bent on stopping him. "Let go of me! She''s going to be set up to supplant you anyway! Let go! Would that you were a mortal! I would rip the eyes from your head!"


    Why wasn''t her power broken yet?! Why did she still hold him?!


    "...Later," Nendas murdered. "I''ll kill her later when you can''t interfere anymore. You won''t stop me again. I will kill you eventually, too, and no one will ever know. No one."


    Taking the money he had, he went looking for Taha. She and Rokas usually hung out at one of several different inns. Checking each of them, however, left Nendas finding none of them. All of a sudden, however, the winds howled like a hurricane. It was so strong it blew open all the shutters on the windows around him.


    For a time, it went silent, but Nendas saw the clouds gathering. Drawn in the same direction, he got to one of the other taverns. "Where is Taha? She should have finished by now, and I need... I need to give her the pay I owe her." Opening the door, he saw the barkeep. "You... were Taha drinking here?"


    "She was, but..." the man shifted.


    "But what?"


    "There was this strange woman, blonde and from the east," said the man. "There were all these winds like a hurricane, and the woman claimed to be a god. Tamar, I think. She challenged Taha to a fight, and they left."


    "A god..." mused Nendas. "No. No, they''re fading. They can''t interfere here. Not anymore." What was he talking about, half-delusional mutterings even he didn''t believe? It was a mere habit spoken to fill an emptiness. He felt energies within him, now at war with him.


    "Are you alright?" asked the man.


    "I''m fine," said Nendas, bile rising in his throat. Turning, he dropped the pay he had been given and fell to one knee. Staggering out of the inn, he fell against the wall. "...I need to get out of sight. I can''t afford to let these health issues appear in public. People will say I''m cursed.


    "But I''m not cursed..."


    "You are correct," said a voice.


    Nendas looked up and around and saw no one. Even as he did, he felt his heart beating faster and faster. He choked and staggered toward the voice, choking back vomit. "What?"


    "You are not cursed. Your own malice cages you," said the voice. "It is only now that the bars you put around your heart have begun to make you sick."


    Nendas was staggering now, finding himself in the woods. He knew he shouldn''t be walking alone, but now he didn''t know how to return to the road. "...You, who are you? What is this place?


    "Where am I?"


    The trees were different, and they hurt his eyes to look at. All of them hurt his eyes to look at. Nendas struggled, choking as he fell to the ground, and finally vomited over the ground. Even as he did, however, he felt even worse. His hands were shaking as he tried to get away. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Get away to where?


    "You already know who I am, Avatar of Jaha," said the voice.


    The mention of his slavery enraged him. "SHUT UP!!


    "I''ll kill you; I''ll kill you if you call me that!"


    "You are in a position to kill no one," said the voice. "You can hardly stand; your body and spirit are rebelling against you. The hatred consumed your heart has twisted your mind so you can hardly see straight.


    "It''s a sight undeserving of hatred."


    "My eyes..." Nendas found his vision fading as he collapsed to the ground. He must have hit a slope because he rolled down something. "Leave me alone! Leave me alone!"


    "You ask to be left alone?" asked the voice. "Yet surely you have been deliberately calling down our wrath all this time."


    "What the hell would you know?!" snarled Nendas. "You branded me, sent her inside me, took away everything that was mine by right! I never wanted to serve any of you!"


    "You seem to have taken your revenge quite effectively, Nendas," said the voice.


    "Never," snarled Nendas as he stood. "Not even for an instant.


    "Father was murdered because of her! And my life was sacrificed to her as a political means! I have no regrets! Given the same choices again, I would have made them all!"


    "What you''re saying and what you are doing are two very different things, Nendas," said the voice. "You speak as if you have no regrets but are killing yourself. Your very nature abhors your actions.


    "Calm yourself. Your violent impulses are at war with the energies that infuse you."


    "You made my nature... it is as much a slave to the Gods as I was meant to be..." said Nendas, stumbling forward. "I... I will never die for Jaha!"


    "No, you will not," said the voice. "You are dying for yourself as we speak.


    Nendas'' strength left him. He collapsed to the ground, lying there and feeling dead. "I... I can''t see.


    "Nothing...


    "Nothing ever goes as planned..."


    His vision darkened.


    However, it returned to him suddenly, and Nendas felt... odd. The pain was gone, and his body was smaller. His arms and legs felt different, and he... he was coated in something, like a coat. Before him, he saw bars, but his vision was different, sharper. He also wasn''t seeing forward but in two different directions. The bars were in both directions.


    And a hand was reaching toward him.


    On instinct, Nendas lashed out. Yet it was with his face, and he hit the hand with...


    Was that a beak?


    Had he been put under some spell? If he had, the hand was withdrawn. He saw before him...


    Her.


    Jaha, not as a statue but in the flesh, or more than flesh. Her pure white glowing eyes, her black hair. It was like what he''d seen when he''d first been pledged to her, only far worse. He recoiled but found he had nowhere to recoil to.


    Nendas was standing on something.


    A perch?


    "So, you''re awake then," said Jaha.


    Nendas tried to shout curses, but they came out only as a screech.


    "I don''t blame you, you know," said Jaha. "You never really knew what you were doing. And you were so confused and consumed by hatred. It must have seemed like another form of slavery to you. Even speaking through you was painful for me after a point."


    Jaha reached through the cage to try and touch him. Nendas lashed out at her, and his beak struck her hand. A scratch was made, and blood drip descended, but she did not flinch.


    "Please, please don''t peck me. I''m not going to hurt you, and I won''t be able to feed you if you do," said Jaha. Nendas tried again. "Nendas, please, I can''t let you out. Not when you''re like this. You''ll only hurt yourself if you do that. You''re not like you were before, Nendas. You um... you''ve changed.


    "See?"


    She brought up a mirror, and Nendas looked at himself.


    Nendas saw in it a hawk caged within a cell. He had brown feathers and was the sort used for hunting. Samrasa had a similar hawk.


    "You''d been driven mad, Nendas," said Jaha. "You weren''t aware of your surroundings at all, and... when that tree fell on you, you were near dead.


    "But, um, that doesn''t matter. Because now you''re here with me.


    "You''ll be safe here and can''t hurt yourself or those around you anymore."


    Nendas screamed, and the sound was that of a caged bird.

 Chapter Fourteen: Judgement

    Rokas stared into his cup within the tavern, wishing to drink the wine of the royal vineyard again. Kulat had some of the greatest winepresses in the world. And some of it was afforded only to Kings.


    Not that it mattered since Taha had slashed his brother''s throat. Though his brother probably deserved it more than most people.


    Taha and Nendas were gone, but they may as well have been gone when he was in their company. Rokas had always been an outlier in the group, and Taha had focused more and more on Nendas. Nendas himself had grown increasingly distant of late, often pacing restlessly. Sometimes he would lie against a tree as though dead, and Rokas would wonder if he were ill. Sometimes he was cynical and bitter with hopeless eyes. Other times, he was like a mere vessel for a light that filled his body and shone through his eyes.


    What they had done and what they were doing had taken a toll on Nendas more than the others though he had hidden it was.


    When he spoke, people listened. It was a trait that Rokas had come to love, though he would never say it out loud. Nendas despised homosexuality, even if he did not despise Rokas. And Samrasa''s example had discredited it all the more. His hatred of the one had mixed with the other. It did not seem that anyone would acknowledge who Rokas was in his life now.


    Nendas would never approve. Taha would not care, but she was more loyal to Nendas than Rokas.


    But, even as friends, he''d grown increasingly distant from Rokas and then Taha. And they were sent on one murderous mission after another. And all the while, Tarasif decayed as King Samrasa found a reason to remove one person or another. One of the barmaids at this place had been grabbed by troops and disappeared.


    Rokas had no idea if it had been ordered or was throwing their weight around. Either way, he was convinced that he was the villain of this particular story. But he was obligated to Taha and Nendas, so all he could do was stick to his friends. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Not that it mattered.


    Jaha''s appearance had been unexpected, but Rokas wondered if it was her. Or had Nendas gone mad from the passing years and utilized her powers against his despised enemy? He''d become cold since the death of Ralign, most likely due to murder. However, Nendas had never admitted to anything.


    Rokas found it unlikely Jaha would behave in such a fashion. Moreover, it ran contrary to all that had been spoken of by her priests.


    It seemed almost inevitable they''d suffer a grisly end sooner or later like one of those men on crosses. Rokas'' only hope was to be killed in battle fighting someone who ought to be an enemy. And that bitterly disturbed him.


    More than anything, he wished for the days when he hadn''t been an outcast in his family.


    Failing that, when he''d been working with Taha as an entertainer. But his destiny, it seemed, was one of endless decay. And so he drank ever deeper.


    "...Is this all we have to show for our lives?" said Rokas finally, leaning back in his seat. "Shrines to gods we change on a whim? Blood on our hands and drink to satiate our doubts?


    "Nendas, at one time, drank with us."


    And then Rokas heard the wind''s howling and looked up, and something in the air made him sober. Standing, he rushed out of the inn. Something strange was afoot, and he meant to find out what. Running to where he knew Taha often drank, he came to the door and looked in.


    "Did you hear there was a girl in here looking for Taha?" said a woman.


    "Really? Why?" asked one of her responses.


    "Well, she said Taha had asked her to come by finally like she''d known her for years," said the woman. "But I''d never seen her around these parts.


    "She even introduced herself as Tamar."


    "I''ve heard the Cult of Tamar sometimes sends out priestesses who answer to her name," mused one. "They shed their family bonds and dye their hair blonde."


    "This girl, where did she go?" asked Rokas, approaching them.


    "To Taha''s usual drinking spot, I think," said the woman.


    He hurried off. Rokas did not know why someone taking the name of the Bloodwind Goddess was here. But Taha had been high in her cult, and it could not be a good sign.


    Rokas ran the rest of the way, and what he suspected now seemed to be coming true. He should have known that sooner or later, their actions would warrant retribution. But perhaps it was not directed at Taha but elsewhere. He might yet get Taha and Nendas and get out of this place.


    All of a sudden, darkness fell over the sun. And out of a door of shadow stepped a figure that seemed almost a silhouette in a pale light. His hands were like claws of shadow, and he upraised one hand. The very presence of this thing filled Rokas with despair.


    His knees shuddered at the coming of the creature. He forced himself to take a combat stance.


    "This city is weighed," said the voice. "It is found wanting."


    "Impus," said Rokas, struggling to stay on his feet. Others who looked at him did not see him but veered away to other streets. They knew something was there, even if they did not know they knew.


    Odd.


    Taha would like to discuss that, but she was gone.


    All hope left him. Every dream was shattered in his mind. Every hope fell dead as the being before he loomed over the city. The people screamed in horror, fleeing or throwing their faces on the ground. Staring into the utter nothingness, Rokas felt his knees shaking, and it was all he could do to stand his ground.


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    The God of the Void had come.


    "He is," said Impus.


    And across Tarasif, the lights went out in every window. All the stars were covered in a shroud of darkness that seemed but an extension of the creature.


    "I must face him if only to slow his attack. Nothing ever good comes from Impus being present," thought Rokas. So he walked toward the coming void.


    He had no idea what he would say here. Nor did he know what he could do or if it made a difference. But he stood his ground and formed into a stance as Impus'' hand reached forward. "Hold where you are. Whether you be God or man, you shall not harm those within this city while I draw breath!"


    Impus was suddenly before him, and Rokas'' body froze in place. "Who are you?" asked Impus.


    "I am Rokas, companion of Nendas and Taha," said Rokas, feeling he ought to cite them first. Or should he cite his status as a Prince?


    "They are broken," said Impus. "They are irrelevant."


    "Why are you consuming us? What sin have the people here committed?" asked Rokas.


    "The divine has been withdrawn," said Impus. "Now, the price of sin must be paid."


    "But did you also not allow such sacrilege to be committed? What warnings have you sent?" asked Rokas.


    "What warnings have you heeded," said Impus. "Atrocities have consequences.


    "You would not believe your spirit. Why would you believe warnings?"


    "Not all within this city took part in such atrocities," said Rokas.


    "I knew of them. All chose to do nothing," said Impus. "Thus, all are guilty. I am here to claim them."


    Rokas was colder now than ever, and his body was going number. "I ask that you pardon us, Lord Impus."


    "The time for pardon has passed," said Impus. "I will claim those condemned."


    Then Jaha had turned on them. "And who is guilty?"


    "All are guilty," said Impus.


    "But they feared for their lives," said Rokas, feeling like he would die instantly. "I was among those.


    "If you must take the life of someone, then take my life as a willing sacrifice. And if my sacrifice does not satiate you, seek those whose guilt is impossible to deny."


    "Who else?" asked Impus.


    Rokas shuddered. "I have two companions, Taha, and Nendas, who I believe would sacrifice to save this land. They are strong, and I believe they would understand the need."


    "You would pay the price for their sins..." said Impus, and Rokas felt him examining his soul. "You are unworthy."


    "Perhaps, but I shall offer myself to you nonetheless, that I might save who I can," said Rokas. What was he doing? But then, what else could he do?


    "They are gone," said Impus. "The one called Nendas has been taken from this land by Jaha. Taha is gone with the wind. They cannot offer themselves."


    Rokas had to stall. "Then allow me time to rescue them, Lord Impus. Spare these people until my quest is complete."


    Impus paused. "Thirty days before all in this realm suffer my wrath. But you shall not pass the doors to the divine realm without an immortal to aid you. And I shall provide no such help nor guide you to it."


    "I see," said Rokas. "Even so, thank you for this opportunity to save my realm."


    Impus ignored him and rose into the sky. "Make your peace. I shall claim you all."


    Then the darkness passed, and a pale and unforgiving light descended on the city. Rokas fell to one knee, gasping. "...What am I thinking?


    "Even if I could get Nendas and Taha back, they would never submit. Taha does not even believe in the gods, and Nendas is heartless now. But, I must make an attempt.


    "I gave my word, after all.


    "But where can even find the gates of the Divine, let alone..."


    "Help may be nearer at hand than you think," said a voice to his side.


    Rokas turned and saw a man with snow-white hair and skin in the street. He wore armor that glowed with an unworldly light. "You...


    "Who are you?"


    "I am Elranor, whom you persecute," said Elranor. "You had best follow me."


    "You wish for me to follow you. Where?" asked Rokas.


    "To the gates of the Divine Plane, of course," said Elranor. "You want to save your friends, do you not, and then convince them to sacrifice themselves?"


    "I, I do. Though only if it is their choice," said Rokas.


    "Then I shall lead you there," said Elranor.


    "But why are you helping me?" asked Rokas. It didn''t make sense.


    "Nendas has gone mad," said Elranor. "The conflicting nature of the divine within him broke him. He came to a point where he was unwilling to take his ambitions to their logical endpoint. For all his brutality and scorn, he could not bring himself to kill his innocent cousin."


    "I was not aware he had planned such a thing?" said Rokas.


    "It was hardly planned," said Elranor. "Nor was it done.


    "But I think that he could be a good man someday if he is given a chance. And you were always respectful.


    "One good turn deserves another, and so I have chosen to help you in your quest."


    "Then you have my thanks," said Rokas. "Though I expect it shall have a bitter end whatever the outcome."


    "That is a trap of your own making, not mine," said Elranor.


    "I know," said Rokas.


    And so their journey began. However, Elranor had not really answered the question. And whatever happened, it seemed this would all have a terrible end indeed.

 Chapter Fifteen: Meeting with the Goddess

    Taha woke up.


    As she did, she felt herself being hit by cold gusts. She could see nothing and hear nothing. Her arms were bound tightly behind her back, and she felt herself swaying. When she tried to speak, she found her mouth had something wedged between it.


    Where was she?


    What was going on?


    Tamar.


    Tamar had appeared, or someone claiming to be Tamar, and she''d taken her. Seized her against her will and took her away. She must have been drugged somehow to see what she''d seen.


    Right now, she was trapped somewhere high up and completely unable to see or hear. So she had to get her arms free. Struggling to pull them out Taha tested where they were strong. Only her bindings seemed to shift wherever she moved her arms like they were liquid.


    "Having fun, Taha?" asked a familiar voice.


    "Mmmph!" snarled Taha despite herself.


    She had to get free and knife this bitch.


    "I don''t usually give this kind of hospitality. But I kind of feel like this fits our relationship a bit better, doesn''t it?" asked Tamar. "You should be grateful. If I''d kept you like this in the mortal coil, you''d have your muscles degenerate. So, let''s take that blindfold off."


    And then the blindfold came off.


    Taha found herself floating in the midst of a whirlwind. Tamar was before her, standing at the edge of a peak. Around them, Taha saw a great mountain of black stone with a vast fortress all throughout it.


    "So, Taha, welcome to my domain. You''ll be staying here for a while, so get used to it," said Tamara, cupping Taha under the cheek. "I''ve got to admit, the look really suits you."


    "Mmmm, mmm," was all Taha managed to say in response.


    "Oh, I''m just enjoying your helplessness, is all," said Tamar, reaching behind her head. "Still, I guess one-sided conversations can get old."


    As soon as the gag came off, Taha snapped at Tamar''s arm, trying the bite the hand. If she opened an artery, she could free herself while her enemy bled to death. But she missed, and Tamar looked only faintly amused.


    "You bitch! Let me out of here! Now!" snarled Taha, calculating her bargaining power. Nendas would be here soon. However, how had she created this kind of illusion? Likely spellwork of some kind, not impossible.


    "Or what?" asked Tamar.


    "I''ll let you live for a start," said Taha. "I don''t know how you managed to drug me before, but I''m not going to fall for it a-"


    Tamar raised a scroll and batted her over the head for it. "You''re mine to do as I like with. Contract, remember?"


    "What..." said Taha. "I never signed a contract."


    "Oh, but your handwriting is on it, isn''t it?" said Tamar, unrolling the parchment. As she did, the bindings on Taha vanished, and she fell onto the ground that had not been there a moment ago.


    "How..." began Taha.


    "I Taha, do solemnly swear to live my life according to the teachings of Tamar and live by her code. In this, I will become her vessel incarnate. Etc, etc, swear a lifetime of service," said Tamar.


    "It''s all very elaborate. Queen Serecula, my other champion, offered it to you, and you signed it."


    Taha thought back to her time with the Tamar cult. Looking at the parchment, she saw it had her handwriting, however. "...We never signed a contract."


    "Yes, but you made an oath, and this piece of paper is your visualization of that oath. Just because you had no intention of honoring it doesn''t make it any less ''binding,''" said Tamar. Then Taha was slammed up against a wall, spread eagle. "Get it, binding? Because you''re in bondage.


    "I mean, the ropes keeping you trapped like this were literally formed from your own words. So, it''s actually quite literal."


    "What do you want?" asked Taha, concluding she was still drugged. Likely a drug designed to allow this woman to manipulate her perceptions. You could do that with magic.


    "Oh, I already have what I want, Taha. You," said Tamar, leaning in so they were face to face. "The only question left for you is what I''m going to do to you now that I have you. I guess I could just leave you hanging in here as an example forever.


    "But... I''ve put a lot of effort into you.


    "So I''m still deciding."


    This was bad.


    Very, very bad. This woman was obviously psychotic and insane, and Taha had to do something to get out of here. "...Listen, I... I have friends. Powerful friends, I''m personal friends with Nendas Hasafa. When he finds me, and he will find me, you''ll be in trouble."


    Taha scoffed. "Oh, right, your boyfriend.


    "I''m not worried about him. Jaha decided to collect on a debt the last time I looked after I drove him mad with bloodlust. He had a lot of repressed rage and frustration, and I immediately brought the aggression out.


    "Unfortunately, he did not murder his sister. Oh well, better luck next time."


    Taha had no idea what that meant, but denying that this woman was a body seemed like a very bad idea. It would be far better to play along and wait for an opportunity to escape and murder her. "Where are we?"


    The area around them kept shifting, meaning it was some magical dimension. Taha calculated things inwardly and considered how best to approach the situation.


    "In the underworld," said Tamar. "And I think I''ve just come up with what I''m going to do to you, Taha?" And she drew out a knife.


    Okay, no more calculations; feign submission now. "No, no, wait! I''m sorry, your majesty, don''t... don''t kill me, please!"


    "Oh please, where would the fun in that be?" asked Tamar before slashing several times. The bindings on Taha fell off around her, and she collapsed onto a hard stone floor. Taha fell to her knees and saw Tamar holding her knife in a loose grip.


    Snatching it from the hand, she turned it around and moved to drive it into her heart. Even as the blade sank into the flesh, however, Tamar seemed to fade away. Looking up, Taha saw Tamar leaning against a wall.


    "...Really, you''re trying to attack me? And after I released you?" Tamara sighed. "Father always said you sometimes had to beat a mate into submission first.


    "Fine, we''ll try things your way."


    Then her fans were out, and she slashed them. Even though they were indoors, Taha felt the winds cut past her. It was like a blade was slashing her, and she felt agony as blood spewed from her wounds. Collapsing to the ground, Tamar grabbed her by the throat and smashed her against the wall.


    Tamar crushed the air from her lungs before forcing a kiss onto her. And as she did, Taha felt blood pour from her mouth. As she was released, it spattered over the floor.


    "I told you, you made a contract. And I''ve collected," said Tamar. "You can''t strike me down any more than you can damage your body. In fact, the fact that I don''t want you to hit me makes it nearly impossible.


    "I guess that means you were trying to get one over me again. Though I admit, I like being called your majesty. Even Father''s slaves don''t call him that."


    Her wounds... they had shed so much blood she should be dead. Taha calculated saw a door and considered that Tamar''s power might be limited to a given location. It was at least worth testing. She was in some kind of spiritual dimension. It was a pocket plane created within the realm of Turmoil¡ªthe realm of lesser deities.


    So the door might lead out.


    It was worth a shot because Tamar enjoyed toying with her. So Taha threw the knife at the ceiling. It got Tamar''s attention, and Taha rushed past her. The knife bounced off the ceiling at the right angle. He headed toward Tamar, who caught it as Taha reached the door.


    However, even as she did, winds whipped through her, pulling her back and slashing her flesh all the harder. The pain was horrible, but Taha doubted Tamar begrudged a chance to show dominance. So she knew Tamar''s winds did not require much prep work or mental effort. Either that or the Tamar before her was merely an avatar of a greater being.


    No, not an avatar, a lens?


    Either way, Taha was pinned against the wall, soaking it with blood now. Tamar licked some of the blood off her cheek with obvious relish. "Oh, running are you, Taha? Like you ran away from me before?"


    Show fear. Demonstrate how afraid you are so she thinks she is in control. Just because you show fear doesn''t mean that fear has mastered you. "I..." Taha choked, letting tears of pain fall down her cheeks.


    "Let me guess? Hanging from wires, right?" asked Taha. "Hmm, these are some pretty elaborate wires, aren''t they? You''d think you''d have run into them by now. Almost like I''m actually using the winds." sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Idiot.


    Did she think that disowning the existence of Gods required disowning magic? Or of beings that existed in a spiritual plane? All those things could exist without being gods.


    Apparently, Taha had let her anger show, and Tamar looked amused. "What are you looking at, Taha?"


    Let Tamar think Taha was broken and delusion. Lull her into a false sense of security, gather information, then strike from a position of power. "This is...


    "What is going on?!"


    Taha poured out the sense of helplessness. She''d felt it when those raiders had attacked the village. She''d thought it would surely be destroyed, but it never was. One part was relieved, one part was disappointed. Taha channeled the part that had been relieved and left the power monger at the back of her thoughts.


    When had that been?


    Had it ever happened?


    "Oh, but you''re the one who wants to figure everything out for herself," said Tamar, cupping her cheek. "What do you think is going on?"


    "Please, please, leave me alone! I''m sorry! I''m sorry!" cried Taha. Her defiance would hopefully have been enough to pique Tamar''s interest. Continued defiance would only anger her.


    "Sorry, for what?" asked Tamar. "I''m just some insane maniac who drugged you, Taha? What do you have to be sorry for?"


    "I don''t know! I don''t know! I... I just want you to leave me alone!" said Taha, letting her helplessness flow through her.


    "Then why not just say so?" asked Tamar.


    "Because I''m afraid you''ll hurt me again, okay!" said Taha, disgusted at the pitiful admission. "I''m afraid! Okay! Are you satisfied? I''m completely terrified of you! I... my body won''t obey me unless you let it; none of my weapons are any good! No matter where I look, I see you!


    I''m alone and scared, and I want to go home!


    "Please... please let me go home. And if you won''t then... then just kill me or ransom me or anything! Just don''t leave me in this place alone with you; I''m begging you!" Add just a bit of defiance to get her to be interested without being a complete milksop.


    "...Do you really hate me that much?" asked Tamar with a smile. There seemed to be a genuine shock but no real hurt. What, was she surprised Taha disliked her for slashing her nearly to pieces?


    "Yes!" said Taha. "I... I was minding my own business after a mission, and then... and then you entered like we''d known eachother for years! But I''d never seen you before in my life! And... and...


    "Please... just put me in a cell and leave me alone."


    Tamar stepped back, and Taha''s wounds vanished with the pain. "Alright, fine.


    "I''ll leave you alone. I''ve lost interest anyway. You''re more interesting than you were in your first life, at least¡ªa lot more interesting. And I wanted you then.


    "I''m glad I snapped you up when I did."


    And Tamar walked to the door. Taha fell to the ground, shivering at the memory of the pain. First life? What had that been about anyway? Had Taha possibly been reincarnated before? Perhaps investigating it later would be useful.


    For now, she had to appear to be broken, so Tamar could mold her into whatever she wanted. "...Thank you."


    "...I''ll be back with instructions for you when I think of something else for you to do," said Tamar. "You won''t get to mope around forever."


    "Just go," said Taha, feeling tears in her eyes.


    Fool.


    Did she think a mere show could break of crude force Taha? She''d faced far worse ideological challenges than this. Nendas and Rokas were worthy opponents; this idle brute was not.


    Tamar might think she was a god; she might have the power of a god. But that did not make her a god.


    Taha would use her up and throw her away soon enough.


    All she had to do was find the right angle.

 Chapter Sixteen: Captivity

    Within his cage, Nendas found his wing slowly healing as the pain of it was soothed. It had been trapped in his side, and he could only stand upon his perch. Yet, there seemed to be much to look at from this steel cage. As he did, he looked around at the lands surrounding him. If indeed they were lands.


    This place was like one of perpetual blossoming with flowers and blue skies. There was a great hill of grass greener than anything, surrounded by a river of white water. Yet the borders were hazy, and here and there, he saw people. Yet, they were faint outlines and never approached. He wondered if the hazy areas were real or if he was less real.


    Now and then, Nendas would see other birds flying around, and some would come to Jeha. Yet none were hawks, as he had found himself. All seemed to be doves or peaceful birds that flew out to other lands. If you gazed distantly enough, you could see darker places.


    There were castles and cities that Nendas had never seen, places where the sky was strange. Twisted creatures dwelled, and horrors dwelled there. Yet there were others...


    Nendas saw one place through Jaha. It was green, green, and beautiful and peaceful too. It was a land ruled by many people in great fortresses. The fields were unmarred by war and tilled with skin. Many were fair-haired and white-skinned.


    There were no crucifixions in that place, and a yearning grew within him to walk those roads. Yet he was a warrior; he served no purpose without war. And his gaze, drawn by Jaha, drew to a cold and fridged land, of rocky mountains, where battles were often fought.


    He felt, for a moment, almost as though he lived there. It stood north, over a channel to the green land. Men there went armed all the time. And many fortresses stood where once evil things had dwelled. There were places where they still did.


    They were foul creatures that could be cut down. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Often Jaha would seem to go into a trance, and he would see her speaking to the birds, giving orders. Were these other Avatars of her? Or extensions of herself in some way?


    Was there a difference?


    He could still feel Jaha within his mind, only now it was everywhere. The cage surrounding him was strong beyond measure. Nothing he could do could break or bend it, and he could find no lock or key to escape.


    Jaha had hardly left his side, usually speaking soft words to him though he couldn''t always make them out. He could feel her in his mind at all times. Yet, he felt a difference in her nature within his mind. The Jaha within was beautiful, kind, and gentle, providing him with food. And yet, within him, he felt a cold and hard nature commanding.


    And the two were set against one another. He was between them as though they were two sides of the same coin.


    Time passed in a dreamlike blur, and Jaha opened the cage door, taking ahold of his wing. Checking it, she removed the harness keeping it in place. "Hmm, so it appears the wings are healing well.


    "That''s wonderful. When I found you, I was afraid you''d be permanently broken. I''m sure you''ll be able to fly someday."


    Nendas snapped forward, though he did not know why. His body did not seem entirely his own now. Jaha was urging him forward, and she withdrew her hand before catching him and setting back the sling. His wing was trapped again, and fury filled him, though it was not hers.


    "You mustn''t peck at me, Nendas. It interferes with your healing," said Jaha, voice melodious. "Oh, stop that; it tickles."


    Didn''t she realize he was not doing this himself? Or was he? He was not sure where his control ended and hers began. But, soon enough, Elranor walked into the place. As he did, the realm shifted, and Jaha looked at him. She noted his presence and smiled.


    "I''m surprised at you, Jaha," said Elranor. "I would think that you would be more forgiving."


    "It''s not really his fault," said Jaha. "And, well, he is one of my avatars, even if he never wanted to be."


    "I wonder if he would not prefer it otherwise," said Elranor.


    "Oh no, definitely not," said Jaha. "When he was originally given to me, Nendas hated the idea of doing my work. I remember he was always pretending like I was my statue. And he wasn''t at all good at following the rules, even if he remembered all of them.


    "I kept asking him to spread my word, but his anger just kept getting in the way.


    "He''d be liable to hurt himself if I gave him a human form.


    "Whenever I tried to embrace him, he always tried to shy away. He''s never been very sociable, after all. So this is really what he chooses to be."*


    Did she not know that she was within him even now? Jaha often seemed to need to learn where she was or what she was doing. And Elranor was often on hand, keeping her in perspective.


    "Do you truly intend to keep him in a cage forever?" asked Elranor.


    "I''d hate to put him at risk, Elranor. I''m afraid that if I let him out, he''ll hurt himself again," said Jaha.


    "Birds are meant to fly, Jaha," said Elranor.


    Jaha paused and then looked at the hawk. "...Yes, I suppose you are right.


    "Now, Nendas, if you want to try and fly within this place, you can."


    What was happening here?


    Had she not spoken of flight as some faraway dream? How much time had passed? Had any time passed?


    The cage vanished, fading away. As it did so, Nendas found he had no structure on which to stand. He found himself falling through the void between his perch and the air. Flapping his wings, he tried to take flight, falling further. He thought he''d hit the ground but never got the chance. However, even as he did, he found himself resting on Jaha''s arm. She was wearing a thick glove and now standing within the fields.


    "Oh, dear, did that hurt?" asked Jaha. "Ordinarily, birds his age can fly like that."


    "Perhaps, but he has not been a bird for very long," said Elranor.


    "Maybe I should turn him into something a bit less delicate. Like a dog, or perhaps a serpent?" said Jaha.


    "I think you would be better off utilizing him as he is, Jaha," said Elranor, seemingly long-suffering.


    "Yes, I suppose you are right," said Jaha with a smile. "You don''t have to worry about being bad at things. Ages ago, my spirit was fragmented and scattered across reality. I have so many different faces and names now.


    "But all of them want only the best for everyone."


    The hatred surged within Nendas again, and he slashed at her arm. Yet Jaha laughed as he did it. "Stop, that tickles."


    "I doubt it is supposed to tickle, Jaha," said Elranor.


    "You should try flying again. But only if it does not hurt you," said Jaha.


    Nendas managed to draw back himself, mastering the anger. Little by little, he was able to gain more control. Looking up at the tree above them, he tried to fly. As he went into the air, he found the instincts coming to him. Yet he fell and hit the ground again. Standing up, he was picked up by Jaha again.


    And he tried again, adjusting from what he had done. And he wondered if what he was doing now was real. Did this place even exist? When was he, and where was he?


    Was his presence here changing anything? Or was this simply some dying dream?


    "Um... are you sure you want to keep doing this?" asked Jaha.


    Nendas tried again, feeling more and more like a puppet on strings than a being with control over his own power. Once again, he fell and hit the ground, only to be raised. "Good, you got a little bit off the air that time. Try again.


    "You have the knowledge you need; you just need to get into practice."


    Nendas tried once again and got a bit off the ground. Another try saw him soar, and a gust of wind went under his wings. Flying up to the upper branches of the trees, he landed and planted his talons. There they gripped as he felt the thing within him take hold again. He glared down at Jaha, low below.


    Somehow, though she was farther from him, the Goddess did not seem any smaller. She smiled proudly and raised her arms outward as if to accept an embrace.


    "I''m so proud of you," said Jaha. "Now come down, Nendas."


    The words came as a command, and Nendas tried to heed it. However, that force within him, Jaha herself, strained to keep him in place. Nendas fought against it, trying to descend.


    "From the looks of things, he isn''t keen to return to his cage," said Elranor.


    "But I need to take him with me where I''m going," said Jaha, brushing aside her dark hair from before silver eyes. "Um... Nendas, please come down; I don''t want to have to make a command of this. It is sort of important that you come with me."


    Nendas tried to descend. He fought against Jaha''s will within him. Was it Jaha? Who else could it be? How could she not be aware of this?


    Jaha sighed, and her voice was one of infinite disappointment and understanding. "...Fine, I guess you always did have problems knowing what was best for you.


    "Nendas, I''m going to be very disappointed in you if you don''t come down to my hand here."


    He was trying!


    But Jaha herself was restraining him from following her own order. He could feel a conflict within, and she seemed to notice his defiance. For a moment, she halted and looked around, her shining eyes gazing at the other birds.


    There was a call, a similar one.


    "Oh, um..." Jaha sighed. "Well, he always was a slow learner. Nendas, you... you really can''t hide from me in that tree, you know. You see...


    "I am the tree."


    And he looked around to see the bars of his cage once again. And Jaha stood above him, greater and more beautiful than ever. "This entire dimension is an extension of me, Nendas. And this dimension extends across time and space. You haven''t really been moving at all; you''ve simply been changing your perception of me.


    "No matter how hard you beat your wings or where you fly, I will always be with you. No matter how many people you hurt or the temples you burned down, I will always love you. You will be here with me no matter how many eternities and ages pass.


    "I know you can''t be held responsible for your action, so I will keep you warm and safe with me.


    "For all eternity."


    "I think he might prefer an eternity in fire," noted Elranor.


    "Well, yes," said Jaha, shifting. "I know that you enjoyed that kind of thing, Nendas. But um... it''s not healthy, so I won''t let you have it."


    "But you will put him in a cage?" asked Elranor, who seemed to be playing the role of advocate.


    "If he doesn''t disobey me, he can fly wherever he wants," said Jaha. "Now come on, Nendas. We have a very special place to go to."


    Nendas was getting very sick of having no control over his own life.


    *This inconsistency is a matter of adaptation.


    Tanith made no effort to compile the texts into a consistent narrative. Rather she translated it according to her interpretation. The earlier texts portrayed Nendas as devoted, cunning, and composed. This one seems to have regarded him as far more bloodthirsty.


    My guess is that the first source portrays Nendas as a role model. At the same time, the second source portrays him as a fallen sinner in need of redemption.

 Chapter Seventeen: The Mountain of the Gods

    The mountain loomed above them with steep and thankless slopes. The moon rose high and full above them. Snowfall fell upon them from high, and no star could be perceived in the darkness. Beneath his fur cap, Rokas could see nothing from Kulat he recognized. Elranor''s guidance had left him wondering where he was on the map. He pulled his white fur cloak closer around him and walked on as winds higher than anything he''d felt tore at him. Never in all his journeys had he seen such a gale. Yet Elranor walked on steadily, and Rokas found that he could bear it in his presence. Rokas wondered how Taha or Nendas would have handled this. But then, would either of them have followed Elranor? Perhaps, but it would have to be under the right circumstances. However, that might be true for Rokas as well. He missed his friends.


    What he knew was that this place was not on any map and stood high above the horizon. Rokas scaled up the stones as quickly as possible, following Elranor''s footsteps. Higher and steeper it went. The wind and snow became all the more terrible as darkness crept over the image of the moon. Now the night was coming on, and Rokas wondered if he could continue. His hands were going cold.


    Rokas was now following an enemy he had persecuted into the darkness. But surely Elranor could have killed him if he so desired. Would it be right to ask questions? "Where are we going? Why scale this mountain?"


    "Only by reaching the top of this mountain will you ever be able to find the Divine Gate," said Elranor. "It is not an easy place to reach. And no mortal has ever scaled to it without assistance from a deity. You need not fear attack; however, violence is not tolerated in this mountain."


    "And what, then, when we have found the gate?" asked Rokas.


    "I will allow you entrance, but you must find your way back. I am needed elsewhere," said Elranor.


    "Have you been to other worlds, then?" asked Rokas.


    "Many," said Elranor. "Many more than you will walk upon. Though not always as I am now. And my sole interest is in exploring this one before I finish. Now come, we''ve work to do."


    "Where are we?" asked Rokas.


    "In Themious, Rokas, in the northern and wild reaches that even the Amazons do not tread," said Elranor. "We have gone long and far together, though you could not see it."


    The air became thinner as they reached the knees of the mountain, and the snow was thick around his knees. It was utterly dark now, save for Elranor. The moon had vanished entirely, and Rokas groped in vain across the fridged lands. He looked down; it was a mistake, for one wrong move could see him fall. Was it miles down to that land below? There would be no surviving such a fall. But Elranor trudged ahead, leaving footprints in the sod that glowed with light. Yet Rokas would fall through the snows Elranor could step upon. He was floundering through waist-high snowbanks. It was all he could do to force his wayward. He bitterly missed Taha and Nendas but was not eager to find them. He''d only be bringing them back to die as things were going.


    But the lives of everyone in Tarasif relied on what he was doing, perhaps even their souls. However, Rokas reflected that all of this might be for naught. Taha would never sacrifice herself for anyone, and Nendas, it seemed, was past such a stage. He was bitter and angry and might refuse out of spite.


    Perhaps that was the only reason the sacrifice had meaning. Rokas thought they faced a terrible end. One for which they would receive neither thanks nor recognition.


    It was too much. Elranor had halted, and Rokas could no longer force himself forward. The god turned to him, face impassive.


    "The night is darker now," gasped Rokas, trying not to collapse. His lungs were overburdened, and the air that entered them was freezing. "I am...


    "I am having trouble breathing. I can go no longer."


    "Of course you are," said Elranor. "The air in this place is too thin for a mortal to breathe. But Gods need no air to walk; they breathe the essence of life itself. And that is strong here.


    "Take hold of my hand and mark my footsteps, and I shall sustain you. You shall find winter''s rage will trouble you less."


    Elranor offered a hand that glowed in the light, and Rokas hesitated as he saw it, wondering about the price. But then, what price had any of Elranor''s actions had yet? Rokas took the hand of death. As he did, he felt his lungs fill with something, and it filled his body. He felt... wonderful.


    Scaling higher, he stepped in the footsteps and found that as he did, heat rushed up to fill him. Nor did the snows yield to him. It was in the very snows Elranor had trod upon. It filled Rokas with warmth as his lungs were filled with air. So they walked onward beneath foreign stars in a wasteland of snow.*


    On they went, ever further higher and closer to the peak in the clouds above. Even so, Rokas felt he was unsure of the plan. "Once I have gotten past the Divine Gate, how may I locate Nendas and Taha?"


    "It will be difficult," said Elranor. "You must find your guide on your way out of here. I recommend going after Jaha first."


    "Why her first?" asked Rokas.


    "It will be the easiest," said Elranor. "Once you free one of them, I promise you the Gods shall be alerted to your presence. Jaha is not one to become violent, preferring to kill with kindness. And Nendas is not in human form at the moment.


    "Tamar, on the other hand, is a far more bloodthirsty creature. She is likely to slaughter you as soon as she catches you. You''ll want to run from her for as little time as possible.


    "Once you get back into this domain, I shall provide you with cover from her. But you must not be caught while in the Divine Realm, or you''ll be lucky to join your friends."


    "How will I get out, then?" asked Rokas.


    "You need not take the front gate," said Elranor. "The Divine Realm has only one entrance you mortals can use in this world. Yet there are many exits. I do not know them all, but my brother can lead you to one. Things will be in his hands once you pass over to the other side."


    "Why is there a Divine Gate anyway?" asked Rokas. "Surely you can come and go as you please."


    "Several reasons which do not come into this matter," said Elranor. "Suffice it to say that the Incarnation of the Land chose to make the ascent to the divine a literal journey. Most worlds do not have one." And at last, they reached the top of a plateau leading toward a flat wall. "It is why Zeya choose to build her palace at the peak of it.


    "Though is high enough that no mortal could climb so far.


    "But enough of this; the Divine Gate stands before us."


    "...I do not see it," said Rokas.


    "That is because you are looking only with your eyes," said Elranor. "Step back from your preconceptions of reality and gaze upon the true nature of things."


    Rokas paused and remembered his meditations. Closing his eyes, he focused his mind, releasing his attachments. Then he opened them, looked at the wall, and began to see the shimmering outline of a gate. The more he saw it, the clearer it became, and he nodded. Beyond was a great forest. "I see it."


    "You''d best go soon. Or else someone will notice us," said Elranor.


    "Yes, thank you, Elranor!" said Rokas before racing through the gate. "I shall not forget your kindness!"


    There was a wrenching as he passed beyond. And Rokas found that some presence seemed to be fighting him. Every step he took became more of a labor, and it seemed to him that he was walking through a translucent passage. Yet there was nothing around it save a sort of grayness, and the further he walked, the more he ached in body and soul.


    Some power was setting itself against him, though he fought tooth and nail to move forward. His progress was slowing. And it only got slower as he trudged onward, little by little breaking into sweat. His vision blurred, his body ached, and he could hardly think.


    Rokas thought about Taha, held captive by Tamar, and was able to fight on a few steps. Then a few steps more. He thought about his debt to her, for her saving his life, and knew he had to repay it. This got him a few steps further, despite little apparent progress.


    On and on he went until the memory of Taha turned to their many conversations. Her concern for him, though it was a warped thing. He thought of the torments she might be undergoing in Tamar''s grip, which got him further. Then his memories of their work as acrobats and their time as soldiers got him a little further.


    But the enemy, whatever was facing him, was fighting harder and more viciously than ever. Rokas took this to mean that it had limited strength, for why else would it only hit him with weaker power? S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Whatever the reason, the memories of Taha began to fade. He thought of her instability, her ruthlessness. And he thought of her endless disrespect for the gods. Soon the path was solidifying again. It was almost pushing him back.


    But he must go forward for Nendas as well. For Nendas had done no wrong, or very little at least. He had been caught in games beyond his comprehension, and he had tried to behave honorably. Time and again, he would have left life behind and become good if only Samrasa had been as good as his word. If only they had not been in fear of death.


    His points during their discussions with Taha had always been better than Rokas''. Without him, Taha might have won in the field of debate many times. Perhaps he could redeem Taha in time if only he could be freed. But now he was becoming sick as he thought of the death of Ralign and the damnation of Munrus.


    Was Nendas truly so guiltless? Perhaps he had not been looking for a way out nearly as much as he claimed. And Rokas, gradually, had his pace slow again as the path fought him all the harder. How long must he march in this place?


    Could he go further? His strength was waning, and he could not think of anything else to fight for. All his efforts had gained him only a little traction. It had called down still greater resistance. But what of himself? Why should he lose his family, friends, and now his city? He''d had as little choice as Nendas, perhaps less. At least Nendas had been allowed to choose whether to accept Jaha.


    Rokas had never had a choice with what he was.


    That got him further, yet Rokas knew he had so much to go.


    What else could he use to fuel his movement?


    What of Tarasif? What of all the people that would die if he did not succeed? What of all the people who would lose relatives in the city? All of them had their hopes, dreams, and desires. Each one would leave behind many people who mourned them. It would leave a gaping hole in their lives.


    Every one of them would lose more than Nendas, Rokas, or Taha. All their lives were connected, and with every severing of a bond, harm was done to many. To destroy Tarasif would annihilate so many bonds that it would scar the land. To allow its destruction might be just, but Rokas had the means to save those people.


    And to save them, he must save Taha and Nendas.


    And at last, he could run, forcing through the last wall and breaking through to the realm of the gods. As he moved through the pages of reality, he perceived all things around him and nothing at all. Reality and unreality made one, with all that could have happened and all that had happened. He saw faced, reading words over endless hours. Some were transfixed by what they saw. Others were disgusted or bored, and some cast what they perceived away. Yet the memory of what had been perceived remained. It was real in some sense, entering their mind and influencing them. Yet some forget what they saw and never had it come to mind. Yet it did not matter.


    Rokas was here to save Nendas and Taha. And he would not be stopped. Though his world might be an illusion, as Taha claimed, it was no less important. For Rokas, Nendas and Taha existed for a purpose and must fulfill that purpose well. Even if they and all they have never existed, the perception of them would alter those who had it. And to alter them for the worse would be the worst of crimes. Yet to inspire them, to delight them. To convince those real beings, wherever they existed in reality, to be greater. That would be a worthy existence.


    Were these observers he saw around him real? Were any of them real? Had he conjured them up and perceived them as a shadow of his thoughts? Taha would think so. Nendas would dismiss his thoughts as absurd.


    Nendas was too practical.


    In the end, it did not matter.


    The world was an illusion. And it must be saved.*


    *I don''t think Elranor can do this.


    For one thing, he has always been associated with cold, death, and healing. The ability to create heat seems antithetical to his nature. Do what you will; all gods have specific qualities that are part of what they are. And Elranor, though benevolent and wise, does not have a very nice powerset.


    Anyone who has worked in a healing house can tell you what horrors you''ll find there. And death needs no introduction.


    This power seems more like something Barden might have. Being the god of trade and civilization. Perhaps this document substituted Barden for Elranor? It would not be the first time a story consolidated the actions of several characters into one.


    *Without Rokas, I should have abandoned this project; damn Tanith''s nagging. Despite his flaws, he is the only person in this miserable state of affairs who can be considered good.


    Taha is dangerously deranged and seems to lack a moral compass of any kind. Only the disapproval of her friends keeps her from being a monster. Nendas tries to be good, but his desire for revenge drives him to the unthinkable.


    Rokas though... Despite being victimized by his family and cheated by Samrasa, he holds no grudge. In some sense, even his friends, Taha and Nendas, have wronged him. Rokas is treated as a subordinate or equal when his blood and rank are higher. Yet he takes whatever role the universe for have for him and does what is right.


    It is appropriate that he should be the ultimate hero of this story.

 Chapter Eighteen: Chained

    Taha had been in prison since time out of mind. The walls around her had gradually shifted to take on a bloodstained tone. Looking at her hair, she''d seen that it had become brighter, like those of Tamar''s priestesses.


    It was one more violation.


    Even now, she felt Tamar''s will coursing through her mind, drawing up memories of blood. It focused more and more on the carnage Taha had wrought in battle. However, there was a real enjoyment within it. Taha let the visions flow through her, even as she contemplated how best to respond.


    Submission.


    Feign submission until an opportunity for escape appeared. But, if Taha had gotten Tamar''s interest before, perhaps some defiance.


    So Taha waited until the door opened, and Tamar entered, clad in black armor. She looked at Taha narrowly. "So, I''m back. Anything to say?"


    "...Yes," said Taha, contemplating her best move. "I''m sorry."


    Tamar smiled. "And?"


    "I didn''t think my actions would hurt you the way they did," said Taha simply. "And I''m very sorry."


    "I know you don''t mean a word of it, you know," said Tamar, smirking.


    "What am I supposed to say?" asked Taha simply. "Do you want me to be glad you did this to me? I''m trying to give you what you want.


    "But if you''re expecting me to beg, you''ll be disappointed."


    "Fine, I''ll call it a start. I guess you''re sorry you got caught," said Tamar with a shrug. "How long are you planning on staying in this cell, Taha?"


    "As long as you force me to stay here," replied Taha.


    "Good," said Tamar. "Then I''ll give you two options. One, you can be my pet. Two, you can be my slave."


    "What''s the difference?" asked Taha.


    "A pet doesn''t have any responsibilities," said Tamar. "A pet can lie around all day, be taken care of, and amuses its master by its existence. All it has to do is show proper affection; it will be loved and adored.


    "Just look at your friend Nendas." And she motioned. A vision appeared, and Tamar saw Nendas trapped within a cage.


    "Nendas! He..." Taha halted. "He''d never choose to be a pet?!"


    "Nendas has been Jaha''s pet since the day he was branded; the feathers and cage made it official," said Tamar. "She gave him free use of her power to a degree that was astounding.


    "I mean, he literally snapped and opened a portal to hell for a blood relative, and she thought of it as endearing. Although that might have been at least her split personalities."


    "How can you do this to people?" asked Taha.


    "Humans do far worse to each other," said Tamar with a shrug. "And you''ve gotten so good at it that you decided to try and cut us out of the universe we created. It''s only natural for us to respond.


    "If you''d tried the same stunt on a King, you''d have been executed or worse.


    "Also, your city is going to be ashes for a while. But cities used to get burned down all the time. So it was bound to start happening again later.


    "Sometimes you need a fire to burn out all the deadwood, or you get a worse one later. Alchara found that out the hard way.


    "In any case, if you want to be my pet, I''m sure I can pick out a nice animal transformation for you. Maybe a dog, or cat, or even a human if you''d prefer it that way. I kind of like the idea of keeping this form on a leash.


    "Now, your other option is to become my slave.


    "It''s similar in result, but you''ll get a lot less luxury, and you''ll have to earn your keep. But, well, slaves may have the ability to earn my favor. And my favor can be a very valuable thing.


    "So, what''ll it be?"


    Taha considered her response, and there was only one possible answer. "...Go to hell."


    "What did you just say?" asked Tamar, growling.


    "I said go to hell," said Taha. "If you''re going to kill me, do it. If you''re going, trap me here until I go insane, fine. You''re well on your way to doing it. You can do whatever you want with me because I can''t do anything to stop you.


    "Now you''re pretending to give me a choice. But it doesn''t matter my choice; you''ll still be in control. If I say I want to be a pet, and you decide to use me as a maid, who am I going to take my grievance to?"


    "I don''t think you get what I''m saying, Taha," said Tamar. "I am a Goddess and can do whatever I want with you. No one will stop me.


    "I''m merely giving you a choice out of courtesy."


    "And what assurances do I have? You won''t decide you want me as a pet if I choose to be a slave or the other way around?" asked Taha.


    "You have none," said Tamar.


    "Then why don''t you just admit that, Tamar?" asked Taha simply. "You write the rules, and you change them when they aren''t convenient for you. And I have no choice but to play along, or you''ll do worse to me.


    "You do whatever you want to do, Tamar. I''ll do whatever you say.


    "But no matter what you do or how powerful you are, you are no god."


    Taha turned to look at Tamar, who met her gaze and held it for a moment. Taha felt her will contesting her own, and they pressed against one another. Finally, Tamar looked away. "...Ah, right, I''d forgotten that you''ve been clinging to this atheist delusion. You''re talking about an imaginary Tamar. A sort of crazed stalker who is keeping you locked in a dark room and drugging you."


    "You are keeping me in the dark room and drugging me," said Taha. "Maybe it''s not a drug given through food or drink. But whether it''s done by magic or by chemicals, the effect is the same.


    "Does it really matter how you''re giving me the thing that makes me hallucinate?"


    "It''s not a hallucination," said Tamar incredulously. "All of those things are real. You''re just so dedicated to denying that they are real that you are attributing them to madness. I gave you this cell because you wanted to be in a cell so you''d be more comfortable.


    "Your perception of me as a crazed stalker is the reason this is so unpleasant! This place could be a palace of flowing water and gardens. You could be sleeping on the softest beds and clad in silk, and yet you refuse to view me as anything but a jailor."


    Taha stood up and dusted herself off. "Can I leave this place?"


    "You''ll leave when I say you can leave!" said Tamar.


    "Then you are my jailor," replied Taha. "Whether the walls are painted a different color doesn''t actually matter."


    Tamar went flush, her cheeks bright red as she strove for words. "...I''m not going to debate this with you.


    "You want me to pick for you, fine. Follow me."


    And she turned to follow, and Taha had to walk behind her. It was second nature to obey Tamar as though she were a mere extension of her. Taha hurried after Tamar into a vast hall of gray stone with many horrific visions of horror on them. Pictures of human sacrifice, brutal bloodletting, and also a wind god clad in black armor.


    Not Tamar, though he seemed to take up women from the ground.


    "Who is it on these walls?" asked Taha.


    "My Father," said Tamar. "Fortenex. Don''t expect him to pay any visits while we''re here. I became Goddess of the Eastern Winds by my own hand. Though I technically act as a proxy for the domain of winds and war in Themious.


    "Even so, my power is growing, and soon I shall no longer be a vassal."


    "That''s uh... very impressive," said Taha, noticing pictures that were more peaceful. Many of them were covered in dust, however. "I don''t recognize this architecture. None of these buildings were made in Themious or Tarasif or anywhere else I know." They seemed to be tree houses but very majestic in nature and elegantly carved. Taha saw a group of peasants, humans, laboring in fields with houses of stone, all under the gaze of proud elven warriors in shining males with curved swords.


    Who were the green-skinned creatures the elves were fighting here, though? They were huge and muscular and seemed to spawn from cauldrons.


    "Very good," said Tamar. "These are from ancient days, long ago.


    "I had high hopes for you, you know.


    "Although you''ve been quite useful without knowing it. You''ve done an excellent job of spreading the word about my techniques. My converts have increased greatly. You should be proud."


    "What do you want me to do?" asked Taha.


    Tamar shrugged. "I want you to clean this entire hall. Every inch of the floor and walls. Wash the ceiling."


    "Can I have some tools?" asked Taha.


    "Of course," said Tamar, and a bucket filled with water and a sponge appeared. "You don''t think I''d expect you to do it with your bare hands, do you?"


    "I wouldn''t put it past you," said Taha.


    "Look, I don''t need you to do this, okay!" said Tamar, distressed. "I could clean it all with a sweep of my hand!


    "But you wanted something to do with your time. I think this would be healthier than moping around in the darkness. This is for your benefit, not mine! This realm is created from your mindscape anyway, filtered through our connection.


    "...Fine, whatever you say," said Taha.


    Snatching up the tools, she got to work in bitterness. The dust and soot were far worse than they appeared. And the hall was huge so that there was still more of it every time she thought she''d finished it. Years of endless training. Including efforts trying to move herself to a position of influence. And this was how it ended. Or how it went on anyway.


    It had always been this tedious. Climbing the ranks was just a distraction.


    Taha doubted suicide was much of an option, so she just worked. As she did, she contemplated the reasons for the bloody visages. Why was she so focused on them? There were many more pleasant images here. Yet, she always ended up focusing on slaves and servants in them, for those were the humans.


    Gradually she began to piece together a general story from them.


    It was her own. Many times over.


    Once upon a time, a servant girl dwelled in the palace of a mighty elf lord. Loyal and hardworking, she cleaned and did her duties perfectly. She was treated kindly and observed events as they happened. And all the while, she waited and dreamed of something more.


    But she never got anything more.


    No one ever considered her worthy of higher responsibilities, and no crisis ever arrived. None that she was in a position to help. And since elves had a much slower perception of time, events passed in the blink of an eye. She grew old and died alone.


    And she was never noticed by anyone. On the contrary, her presence was hardly missed, for humans died so quickly.


    "Not a very good beginning," noted Tamar. "You know, most people deviate from what they are supposed to do a little in their first life."


    Taha finished the floor, only to realize there were many pieces of it in need of cleaning. And so she worked at it still and saw more of what had been.


    Once upon a time, a servant girl dwelled in a castle, working to clean and cook. Yet though she worked hard and was kindly treated, she was beneath notice. Her attempts to impress her master only gained mild approval. And she feared growing old and die alone.


    But the elves had a rule that men did not inhabit their domains. It was to prevent them from becoming populated by humans.


    So, she decided to run away.


    Gathering supplies, the girl escaped into the night. There she was immediately eaten by wolves. When the elves learned of it, they made no attempt at vengeance. Though unfortunate, one foolish human was worth far less than a majestic creature like a wolf.


    "One wonders why the humans disliked them," noted Tamar.


    Once upon a time, there was a human farmgirl who hated the elves. Yet, no opportunity for revenge ever presented itself. She was weaker than them, short-lived, and all the land was against them. To draw water, she had to bow and scrape to the good spirits.


    They could not lay axes to any trees, and so their farmland was constantly decreasing. The Incarnation of the Land was their representative. Sometimes they arranged for the spirits to lay off. But he never pushed back, and so over the years, the lands of the humans shrank. Bitterness and rage were contained by fear until the day she died from a broken leg. She''d asked the wind to bring her help, but the elven guards did not care. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    So she died alone.


    "Living in fear is, more or less, what it means to be a slave," noted Tamar.


    "Why am I a peasant in all of these?" asked Taha.


    "The aristocracy is a very small part of the population," said Tamar simply. "And before Anoa the Bright, those who weren''t aristocrats were bound to the land. Any attempt by a human to do anything was scrutinized."


    "Who is Anoa the Bright?" asked Taha.


    "You''d like him," said Tamar with a laugh.


    Once upon a time, a human girl saw all hell break loose.


    The Incarnation of the Land died in a far-off land. War and rumors of war came from the east, and the Gods themselves went at it. Dragons scorched the earth as blood ran in rivers across the world. But she was an ordinary person with no training or experience, and there was nothing she could do.


    Her village was burned, she fled into the wilderness. No one came to help her, and she thirsted to death, begging a river spirit to give her water. And only the wind knew of it.


    "I filled that river with corpses, you know," said Tamar. "It dried up completely."


    "Thank you," said Taha.


    Once upon a time, there were two servant girls that often dreamed that they were Princesses. Though they knew the only Princess was any daughter, the Queen would have. But, in time, the Queen ordered her friend killed.


    The servant girl helped her escape and saw her of. And she dreamed that maybe she would be given some great role in things when she came back.


    Nothing of the sort happened.


    The Queen disappeared, and her friend never came back. Someone else took power, and she was forgotten¡ªjust a footnote in someone else''s story.


    Eventually, she was raped by the new Lord and forced to be his mistress.


    "You um... you don''t have to work nonstop," said Tamar. "If you want to take a break now and then, that''s fine. I can also provide you with food and drink if you want. Though you really don''t need to eat here."


    Taha considered that. "Is this one of those stories where I accidentally bind myself here by eating your food?"


    "No," laughed Tamar. "You''re already bound here."


    She was hungry and thirsty. "I''d like some bread and wine if you don''t mind. I haven''t eaten anything in a long time."


    "Oh, yes, right, sure," said Tamar, motioning. "Go ahead and eat it; I won''t rush you."


    Taha did eat. As she did, she saw another story unfolding.


    Once upon a time, there had been a warrior maiden of a large group of barbarian tribes. Free and proud, their lands faced incursion by hordes of satyrs. More than anything, she longed to die in glorious battle. All so she might be admitted into the warrior elite of Fortenex.


    And so she joined her men in marching to war. But, rushing to face them in glorious battle, they were ambushed. She was shot in the back before she could even draw her sword. She died in a puddle of her own blood without even having a chance to strike a blow.


    Then her friend, who no one took much notice of, was cut down as she stooped over the corpse. That was who Taha had been.


    "Where is everyone else in this place anyway?" asked Taha, wolfing down her food. It was good.


    "Oh, this is my personal domain. Or rather, your part of it," said Tamar. "No one comes here without my will. I mean, I guess there are the high heavens for my worshippers. They are a subdimension of my Father, Fortenex''s domain.


    "But I''ve only ever brought people up here who get my attention."


    "And how many of them are there?" asked Taha.


    Tamar paused. "Well, just you. My priestesses can come up here, but they do so as an extension of me.


    "I mean, it''s not like I like you or anything. You happened to be the first to get me legitimately angry," And she looked away.


    Wonderful, so the psychotic monster has a crush on her. "Really?


    "So of all the people who ever left your religion, I''m the one you decided to kidnap and torture."


    "You''re the only one who got as far as being a high priestess without even having a hint of belief in me," said Tamara. "Usually, you have to have some faith to get people to accept you as a priestess.


    "How did you even do it anyway?


    "I thought you were one of my most faithful subjects this time."


    "Because I really wanted to learn to throw knives, obviously," said Taha. "When I learned from my instructors, I paid close attention and put my all into it. When I was at prayers, I performed them devoutly out of respect for them. My parents brought me up to never waste the time of one you want to learn from.


    "It would have been disrespectful."


    "Well, what about me?" asked Tamar. "What kind of respect did you show me?"


    "I didn''t think you existed," said Taha. "And I''d learned about everything your cult had to teach. I wanted to get some practical experience in using it."


    "Well, that was a big mistake," said Tamar.


    Taha drank the wine quickly. "Yes, I know.


    "How did you even find me anyway? You waited years to come down and turn me into a slave?"


    "You invoked me, obviously," said Tamar. "I knew where you were the entire time.


    "I usually keep tabs on you. Heck, you were practically challenging me to come and prove to you that I existed. I''ll bet you did it because you subconsciously wanted me to judge you."


    "Well, that was a big mistake," said Taha.


    "Faithlessness is a fate worse than death," said Tamar.


    "For you, maybe," said Taha. "I had a good thing going back home, Tamar. I was the personal friend of a very powerful man. Nendas was on the verge of killing off his brat of a cousin and getting himself reinstated as heir. A few more days, and we''d have been very powerful."


    "Yeah, why do you think I swept you off your feet so quickly?" asked Tamar. "You talk about kin slaying like it''s nothing special. If things had gone as you''d hoped, you two would have become very evil, very fast."


    "That''s not true," said Taha.


    "Oh really?" asked Tamar. "How many people have you assassinated on Samrasa''s orders? Haven''t you spent years helping to murder the faithful? Do you really think you''d have stopped once you got power?


    "You''re lucky I grabbed you.


    "If I hadn''t, you''d probably be somewhere a lot lower. Now you''d better get back to work."


    Taha did get back to work.


    Once upon a time, there was a Prince who had everything he could have ever wanted but was spoiled and vicious. One day, an old woman came to the door and asked for shelter from a wind storm. The Prince refused her because of her looks. But the beggar asked again and warned that beauty was only skin deep.


    At this point, one of the servant girls decided there were two possibilities;


    Either this person was what they appeared, or they were not. If they were an old beggar woman, she''d be dead soon anyway. But if she wasn''t, then she was some kind of supernatural power, and they''d punish the whole castle.


    The peasant did not want to pay the price for her Lord''s stupidity, drew out a knife, and cut his throat. Then she opened the door for her, handed her the knife, and let her take the blame for it. The fairy was so surprised that she couldn''t do much more than vanish in a flash, which did nothing to help her case.


    At which point, the servant girl made a run for it and was immediately eaten by wolves.


    "Why do I die in all of these," said Taha.


    "Technically speaking, everyone who lives dies," said Tamar. "This was the life that really my attention. Before that, you were a curiosity."


    "...What happened to Nendas?" asked Taha.


    "Well, after I took you away, he contemplated murdering his cousin like you wanted him to," said Tamar. "But, Nendas could not bring himself to do it.


    "But, once he refused to go all the way, his conscience caught up with him. Then he found out I''d taken you, and things got bad. He ended up wandering into the woods, having a complete breakdown.


    "Fortunately for him, he''s Jaha''s pet."


    "What do you mean by that? Nendas hates Jaha, even if he would never admit it," said Taha. "Being made the Avatar was the worst thing ever to him. His entire life fell apart because of it."


    "That''s unconditional love for you, Taha," said Tamar. "Jaha doesn''t view him as an equal; she views him as a pet. When you have a pet cat, and you rub its belly too much, now and then, it scratches you. Well, Nendas'' attempts to hurt her were about as significant as a cat that had been declawed.


    "But Jaha doesn''t see people. She sees excuses for why they are bad."


    Taha didn''t care, but Tamar seemed to want to talk about it. Play along. "What do you mean?"


    "Well, if you have someone who murdered a man for money, I''d order him hung," said Tamar. "But Jaha would say that the murderer was really a victim. After all, he''d never have needed to kill someone for money if he''d had the money to live on. And he''d have had the money to live on if he hadn''t had such an anger problem. And if he''d not been hit by his father, then he''d never have had that anger problem.


    "Etc, etc, etc.


    "People are not the result of their choices to Jaha. Everyone is simply a passive observer in their own life story, a victim of original sin."


    "So what''s going to happen to Nendas?" asked Taha.


    "My guess?" asked Tamar. "She''s going to keep him like that forever. Usually, people get to reincarnate now and then after a time in hell. But Nendas isn''t in hell; he''s wrapped up warm in the arms of a goddess. One which will never forget or abandon him. She will never get angry with him or make him suffer consequences in any way.


    "Nothing he can do can hurt or alienate her, and she''ll never stop tending to him. And as one of her favorites, she''ll never release him. Eventually, he''ll just be a passive observer in the body of a loyal hawk."


    "Why would he be one of her favorites?" asked Taha. "They couldn''t be more different."


    "Because he''s the antithesis of what she wants her followers to act like," said Tamar. "Remember, committing grave sins to her is just being a victim. So in her mind, Nendas''s actions are not a result of willful malice but rather of being confused and deluded. And a danger to himself and others.


    "And, to be honest, I think she''s infatuated with him.


    "But she''d never have the guts to just flat out make him her slave. And, frankly, I think she gets a thrill from feeling his spirit break. So instead, she''ll keep him safe, loved, and helpless for all eternity."


    Taha looked down and thought about what to do.


    And she saw another life.


    Her life.


    She was old.


    Her body was fresh and new, but her spirit was ancient. Most mortals found their place by the time of their third life. To have gone through this many was unheard of.


    She''d been hollowed out. No youth or zest for life remained. Every attempt to be something or something had ended the same way. And she was kept here, torn between a fear of damnation and hatred of heaven. All that inflamed her passions anymore was raw, brutal violence.


    She tried to tell herself it would be better to live a simple life. For that life had not been bad at all, unlike the others. She was the daughter of a major landowner; she''d marry someone of great influence. Yet, it meant nothing to her.


    The world was counterfeit and worthless.


    Taha now found that her happy surroundings were intolerable to her. She held no grudge against those around her, but she couldn''t bear to remain with them. Their existence galled her, knowing she should care for them, but didn''t. And so she left, abandoned everything to seek meaning in some way.


    If she was to die, then at least she could die free of distractions.


    Had she been seeking meaning in the cults she visited? Or was she seeking some means to triumph over the gods?


    But it did not matter.


    She was nothing.


    Just a lens. Light that shone through her could be seen and perhaps change by the angle. But there was no light within her. There was no love to give; the fuel had burned out long ago in endless, hopeless hours of waiting in humiliation. And now, the same was happening to Nendas.


    She could not let it happen.


    "....I need to help him," said Taha suddenly.


    "You need to finish the job I gave you," said Tamar. "I''m not Jaha. You''re not going to get infinite understanding from me combined with a pat on the head. You took advantage of me before and became a professional murderer, so now you get to be my slave.


    "And believe me, it could have been far worse. I heard Melchious took an interest in Nendas'' operations."


    "Melchious?!" asked Taha, voice horrified. "He... he''s real too."


    "Yeah. And whatever stories you''ve heard about, they are true," said Tamar.


    "...Can I..." Taha halted and then bowed. "May I ask a favor, Queen Tamar?"


    "I like being called Queen. What is it?" asked Tamar, smiling.


    "Could you send a message to Rokas in my hometown," said Taha. "Tell him... tell him what has happened to Nendas. I mean, I want to get away from this, but... Nendas has it so much worse."


    "He''s already busy planning to storm the gates of the Underworld, I believe," said Tamar. "But I''ll tell him what is going on, on one condition."


    "Yes?" asked Taha.


    "No escape attempts," said Tamar. "They won''t work anyway. Are we agreed?"


    Taha nodded. "...Yes."


    "Great," said Tamar before motioning. "Here''s your collar and cat ears."


    Taha felt a tingling and struggled as she found ears growing from the top of her head. Struggling, she found a collar at her neck with a bell. At the same time, a tail grew from behind her back. "Get this off me!"


    "Nah, I like the way you look with cat ears and a tail," said Tamar. "Now keep working; I''ll have food sent to you soon enough. I''ve got some visitors to meet."

 Chapter Nineteen: Release

    Jaha''s domain had begun to grate on Nendas an eternity ago.


    He spent his days being given opportunities to fly into the heights of the air and around. And each time, he had to return to Jaha''s hand. Attempts to stay away from her led to him being in her hand again. Often she would feed him meat, though he did not see any animals for her to slay.


    It was not unpleasant, but it was limiting. Jaha thought it was of vast importance. She was very beautiful, kind, and wonderful, but he found it infuriating to be like this.


    He was an animal and could not feel the rage he ought to. Often she would hold him close to her chest, and he did not peck at her. It would not do any good. Even so, it began to make him feel crushed, though at least what he was being crushed against was soft and firm. It was not completely unpleasant.


    But it was dull.


    And then Elranor returned, appearing like a blizzard within the domain. And beneath his coming, the air became chill.


    "Oh, Elranor, you''re here," said Jaha.


    "Hello, Jaha. I''m glad the cage has been dispensed with," said Elranor. "Do you intend to keep him as a pet?"


    "Oh, um... I guess so," said Jaha. "But I prefer to regard my pets as a family instead of people.


    "But he hasn''t acted up at all lately. I''d thought his defiance would stay."


    "I can''t imagine why," said Elranor. He motioned, and the green fields were covered beneath falling snow. Nendas wondered what the symbolism in the act was or if it was merely personal preference. Jaha did not seem to mind either way.


    "I think he''s still confused," said Jaha. "He keeps trying to escape me, even though this place is where he truly belongs. But that''s okay; I''ll keep him with me wrapped up warm until he accepts it.


    "So, how can I help you, Elranor?"


    "I thought you might be interested to know that Nendas has a friend coming to rescue him," said Elranor.


    "Rescue?" asked Jaha, perplexed. "But why would anyone ever need to be rescued from me?"


    "...Free will is a concept, I suppose," said Elranor ruefully, walking closer. "Be that as it may, he has a good reason for doing so. He offered himself up as a sacrifice to the God of Judgement to save his city. When the God of Judgement was not satiated, he offered to get his friends to volunteer.


    "However, both of his friends are prisoners of different gods. He plans to free them and convince them to sacrifice themselves as well. All this to save their city. Not full recompense for Tarasif''s sins, but the thought alone counts for a great deal."


    "But that would be far too cruel!" said Jaha, voice genuine. "Nendas doesn''t need to return to that awful place again!"


    "I expected you''d say that," said Elranor. "So, I hoped you would convince Tamar to release her capture."


    "You mean that Taha girl?" asked Jaha with a frown. "I never liked the way she lingered around Nendas as she did. There is something off about her soul, an empty hunger. It''s as if she has been hollowed inside.


    "She is like a cipher, or a lens, showing only what passes through her." Nendas would be interested in knowing what that meant. "I''ve only seen such things before in...


    "Well...." She shuddered. "Nevermind.


    "But I suppose she doesn''t deserve to be trapped scrubbing floors. Tamar doesn''t need her for that, but she''s doing her work as a slave. And Tamar has always been awful."


    "I gather there is an element of retribution," said Elranor. "Although I suspect..." He paused and seemed to think better of whatever he would say. "Nevermind.


    "In any case, you must understand that Nendas is partially responsible for the city being in a state of sin. And, while I know you love him, you did not do much to reign him in when he was a mortal."


    "I''d never want to restrict his movements. Not after all those awful things that happened to him," said Jaha. Nendas was finding her more grating by the moment, though he did not hate her.


    "You are keeping him in a cage, Jaha," said Elranor. "Just because it isn''t here does not change the reality."


    "Well, yes, but the cage is of his imagining," said Jaha. "Once he accepts me and is one with me, he will be completely free. He is mine, after all."


    "Yes," said Elranor. "However, Jaha, have you considered that Nendas might not be a follower after your own heart?"


    "Of course, he is, Elranor," said Jaha. "He was my Avatar. The very fact that he survived the process proves he is mine." Resentment surged through Nendas, but it was not his own. Was anything his own, really? What was the benefit of being perpetually in the company of such beauty when you were a hawk?


    Or was he just a cipher himself?


    "Yes, however, that was years before," said Elranor. "You have said that it was a traumatic experience for him. One which led to his violent career as a soldier. Are you certain he belongs here?"


    "Of course," said Jaha, now defensive as the wind howled through her. Her hair flowed around her. "Nendas belongs with me!"


    "Yes, of course, he does," said Elranor, tone now long-suffering. "But, you''ve kept him here a long time, and that cage has not yet weakened. Now and then, you can let him out, but he always returns to the cage.


    "Are you sure that he can become, well... worthy of you in this situation?"


    "Nendas doesn''t need to be worthy of me. I love him no matter who he is or what he does," said Jaha resolutely. What irritated Nendas was that she meant it.


    He wished she''d let him go. Anywhere other than Tarasif would be fine by him. To become something other than what he was now would be all he wanted.


    "I understand that, Jaha, but do you think he is very happy now?" asked Elranor.


    Was Nendas happy?


    It was a question he had never asked himself, and he didn''t begin to know how to answer it. He''d always been distracted by some goal and had never thought beyond it. Revenge on Samrasa was done out of duty more than hatred.


    "Nendas is mine, Elranor. He doesn''t have a choice," said Jaha, and her voice was hard now. "No one will take him from me. I am his benefactor."


    "Yes, I know," said Elranor. "However, wouldn''t you prefer him to be happy serving you? Rather than in a state of perpetual, self-hating despair."


    "He will be happy," said Jaha. "I''ve already seen his hatred and resentment die down. His despair will die soon, and he''ll love me no matter how long I have to wait."


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "But perhaps it would be better to make it so you don''t have to wait as long?" asked Elranor. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Jaha eyed him suspiciously. Finally, she sighed. "...Just what are you suggesting, Elranor? You keep acting as though I''m the unreasonable one. Samrasa was ruining Nendas and everyone around him. And Nendas would have ended up as bad as him if things had gone the way they ought to.


    "He''d already gone mad and was alone and dying when I took him. I saved him and healed him. Just what do you want from me?"


    "Give Nendas something to do," said Elranor. "He was a man of action in life and would be happier if he had some kind of responsibility to pursue on your behalf."


    "But then he might try to escape me," said Jaha.


    "Do you think he has enough will leave to disobey your order, Jaha?" asked Elranor. "And even if he does, all you''d have to do is call him back. As one of your avatars, you have a hold on his soul that is broken when you want it broken."


    "But he might get hurt or become worse," said Jaha.


    "Then, at the very least, when you bring him back, he will feel like he accomplished something," said Elranor. "That alone could help your relationship.


    "In any case, I think he has largely healed from his spiritual and physical injuries. He now needs the chance to test them against something on your behalf."


    Jaha looked at Nendas, and he met her gaze. Finally, she looked up. "...Alright, I''ll let Nendas have some sort of responsibility.


    "I''m sure he understands better now anyway." Then she looked to Nendas in the tree and was suddenly near. As she did, Nendas saw her tower above him. Her eyes stared down at him from above. "Nendas, I need you to obey my instructions. Will you do that?"


    Nendas nodded. What other alternative did he have here?


    "Good," said Jaha. "I want you to find your friend, Rokas, and guide him to the domain of Tamar. You know the way now, so it should be fine.


    "But Nendas..."


    Nendas looked at her.


    "If you try to run away from me again, I''m not going to be able to let you out of the cage for a very long time," said Jaha. "I trust you, and if you betray my trust, I have to punish you." Nendas shivered. "Once you''ve arrived at that domain, observe what happens, then come right back.


    "And um... be careful not to be seen by Tamar. She gets very violent, and I don''t want you to get hurt. Did you get all that, Nendas?"


    He nodded. Anything to get out, though not being able to gaze at her would be a downside.


    "Good, now go by my will. I will guide you; just be sure to pay attention to it this time," said Jaha. "Don''t betray my trust, or I shall be cross."


    And she moved her hand and sent him flying away.


    Nendas soared into the air, flapping his wings as he finally passed beyond the river. He soared over open fields of a far green country, gazing down on the changing dimensions. He saw to his left a dark castle at the edge of a black precipice.


    Drawn toward it, he passed it and found himself in a realm of nothingness. And beyond, the gray realm of turmoil lay between all worlds. A light drew him on through the innumerable pathways of reality. Yet as he flew, a will set itself against him.


    It was unlike any will he had felt before; it was there, yet not. But his flight slowed unless he fought beak and claw to keep pace. There was, within it, snarling malice of sorts. Yet as he moved forward, it got weakened. Soon he was going swift and sure, with only occasional feelings of opposition.


    Yet he saw visions as he passed through the turmoil of things that were, had been, and had not come to pass. And chief among them was a blonde warrior, covered in the blood of his enemies. Villages were laid to waste in immense numbers; entire civilizations were cast down. The earth broke apart as Ancient Namina was cast down. Against him, all the world conspired, and all the world suffered and burned.


    Nothing could stop him or slow his progress, only divert his implacable wrath for a while. And a name came now to Nendas.


    Anoa the Bright.


    Who was this shadow before the gods cringed back? Upon whom vast civilizations had been shattered in mere decades? How had he scarred the land and set the borders between heaven and hellfire? And why did Nendas see it now?


    And, little by little, he perceived a pathway of reality, connecting his spirit to the creature. Was it his nature that he drew from it, conflicting with Jaha? Was it the nature of all humanity to be tied to this figure? Or was it himself?


    Every action taken broke and created innumerable connections to innumerable people. Yet Anoa had severed and touched so many; it had changed everything. The world was reshaped in his image and that of his rivals. Or was it rather that he took on a form in the shape of things to come?


    Had he created the world?


    Or had the world created him?


    The answer may be yes.


    These half-delusional thoughts had no meaning that Nendas could decipher for himself. He wondered if he was not simply catching some part of the mind of greater power. One that even now looked through him as a lens.


    It did not matter. Nendas had work to do.


    Against all the horrors this monster could be summoned was sent only his reflection. The other mirrored the motions in an echo through reality as one acted. Action and counteraction conspired against one another, though neither one had met. And Nendas wondered if he was that reflection.


    Perhaps that was why Jaha had accepted him.


    The grayish abyss passed him by as he neared the world of mortals. And at last, he came before Rokas as he strode through the dimensions. Rokas halted as he saw him, and Nendas flew before him. It was good to see his friend again, though Nendas had not considered him at it before.


    Perhaps his time with Jaha had not been a waste after all. As he flew before Rokas, Nendas felt joy in his heart welling up. Rokas halted and looked at him in surprise. "You...


    "You are not an enemy, are you? You want me to follow you, then?"


    Nendas tried to motion yes, and it must have gotten through.


    "Lead on," said Rokas.


    Nendas was guided and guided in turn. And things could become better after all.

 Chapter Twenty: Old Lives

    Another swath of dust brushed away from the tiles.*


    It was another life where she''d been a Princess ruling an island kingdom she had founded herself. She had sought to bring peace through friendship and compassion. Her friendship had been used, then thrown away without ceremony. The compassion she showed for all people had seen her mocked, used, and belittled. Until everyone she''d loved had died and her people slaughtered.


    And when she sought to avenge them, she was told she was wrong for doing so.


    Similar stories like it seemed to happen to Taha over and over. And she wondered how many lives she had lived through like this. Why was Tamar interested in her anyway? How to broach the subject?


    "So, you''ve cleaned many floors now, haven''t you?" asked Tamar, watching from the air. She was standing on the ceiling.


    "Why? Do you have something else for me to do?" asked Taha.


    "Do you take it that you are employed doing honest work instead of murdering innocent people?" asked Tamar.


    "Since when do you care about innocent people?" asked Taha. "Half of these lives end with me gruesomely murdered by your subjects. When it''s not wild animals."


    "Had to use the line," said Tamar. "I''m playing moral authority. Also, they are Father''s subjects. While there is some overlap, my ways are not his ways."


    "Fine," said Taha. "The answer is yes.


    "That at least got me respect. I''d tell stories of victories at the tavern, make love to Nendas at night and do the same thing. It was glorious.


    "This is...


    "It''s like I never even left my roots." What even were her roots? Taha genuinely did not know if her life was engraved on these walls. Perhaps it was someone else.


    "Then why are you still doing it?" asked Tamar.


    "Because the alternative is sitting in a dark cell and crying myself to sleep like a Princess," noted Taha. "Assuming I even did sleep. Nothing ever changes in this place.


    "So why are you interested in me? I seem to have warranted special treatment."


    "I think I already outlined my problem with you, Taha," said Tamar.


    "Maybe, but I get the feeling you''ve wanted to do this for some time," said Taha. She felt her tail twitching behind her as she scrubbed. As she looked up, however, she saw Tamar''s face inches from her own.


    "Alright, I confess, I did enjoy watching everything fall apart for you in your first life," said Tamar. And she put her fan between them. "And in your second and third. You''re something of an anomaly among mortals.


    "Virtually every god has rejected you by now."


    "Oh really," said Taha. "And why is that?"


    "You overplay your part," said Tamar. "Most deities have their own style of commandment or guidelines, especially on how worshippers should conduct themselves. All of them have certain virtues they hold to.


    "Every time you get given a code or ideology; however, you always take to it like a fish to water. And you take it to such extremes that it alienates whatever culture or god you serve."


    "Right, and the one person I don''t want to be associated with won''t take no for an answer," noted Taha.


    "You do know that you deserved a lot worse, don''t you?" said Tamar, descending to land on the ground. "If I hadn''t taken you away, you would have been destroyed. Likely alongside your entire city right now.


    "Or do you think Rokas would have sacrificed himself with you there?"


    "Maybe," said Taha, not interested.


    "And would you or Nendas?" asked Tamar.


    "Probably not," conceded Taha.


    "So, I saved you from hell and your entire city from destruction," said Taha. "And since you already owe me everything you are, I figure having to wipe down some floors is a small price to pay. You took my power, got years of benefits, and were saved by me coming to collect.


    "I''d call that a lot more than you deserve."


    "I don''t care about Tarasif. I''d happily sacrifice the whole city so long as I, Nendas, and Rokas got out of this alive and free," said Taha with a shrug.


    "Now see, that is exactly the attitude that keeps you on the mortal coil," noted Tamar. "You''re always in it for yourself unless you have no choice but to serve someone else."


    "So, does this end?" asked Taha, scratching an ear.


    "Does what end?" asked Tamar.


    "Am I supposed just to keep washing the dust off endless floors for the rest of eternity? What happens next?" asked Taha.


    "I thought you were giving me that choice, Taha?" asked Tamar.


    "What do you get out of this?" asked Taha. "Why am I here, drudging through all of this? I finished one room, and you create another? Do you want me to suffer?"


    Tamar sighed. "No, Taha.


    "I want you."


    "Why?" asked Taha, genuinely perplexed. "What is so important that you could go to all this trouble just to get me? And now that you have me, what do you want? What do you want from me?"


    "I want you, okay," said Tamar, seeming flustered. "I want you to serve me like you said you would and love me like you did! I want you to be here with me and be happy to be here with me! And I want you to pledge to me as you did before and mean it!


    "Is that so much to ask?"


    "Yes," said Taha.


    "Why?!" said Tamar. "Why do you hate me?"


    "You know why," said Taha.


    "I already told you that what happened to you is far better than what would have happened," said Tamar. "And you were the one who called me down in the first place, so what did you expect would happen?


    "I''m just trying to make you comfortable with your new life, but you fight me at every turn!"


    Taha sighed. They needed help. "This isn''t working, Tamar."


    "Your Majesty to you," said Tamar.


    "This isn''t working, your Majesty," said Taha. "I believe I would have come to a bad end if you hadn''t done what you did. I admit that I was probably a horrible person. I shouldn''t have broken my contract with you; that''s obvious to anyone. From a pragmatic sense, anyway.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "You have every legal right by any law to do worse to me than you did according to the privileges given deity. I admit I don''t fully believe that, but you make a compelling case.


    "So, assuming this isn''t all some drug-induced hallucination, you are completely right.


    "But I''m not feeling what you want from me. That''s my failing, not yours.


    "Now, can I do something to make up for my failure? Or are we just going to sit here forever?"


    Tamar sighed. "...You can stay with me. Just, just until I release you to something else, please.


    "I''ll find a quest or something; just... please don''t leave."


    God, this was pitiful. "Fine. I won''t leave until you tell me I can."


    She wasn''t going to be able to escape anyway, so it was a moot point.


    Tamar stood up, looking completely miserable. "I... I need to be alone.


    "Just for a little while." And she walked off.


    "If that''s what you want," said Taha, trying to feel sympathy. Pretending to have sympathy wasn''t any good.


    Tamar departed, and Taha continued her work.


    As she did so, Taha began to rub down more and more of the floors and walls. She began to realize that you could spend a century getting rid of the dust in this place. It would be much the same in the end. So why was she bothering?


    Because she''d been told to by a deity who had the power of life and death over her. That seemed the only justification she needed, actually. Of course, Taha could come up with an elaborate explanation about it being for a job well done. But she didn''t care; this place didn''t belong to her anyway. Just because Tamar claimed it was her soul, it didn''t matter, even if it was her soul.


    Taha had been handed a soul at birth without asking for it and then told that having it meant that she was a slave. That she did not belong to herself, and nothing she did could be anything but a channel for the Gods. Or whatever you called the force at the back of creation. The demons were trying to steal her soul or hurt her.


    But really, what was the use of a soul?


    Taha could probably get on just fine without one. If indeed she was cleaning it, then her consciousness had an independent existence. That meant the soul was just how she was kept enslaved. Perhaps it came with certain luxuries, like emotions and faith. But why were those valuable?


    A person who had never felt love or friendship would not miss them. Any more than someone who had spent all their life in prison would miss the open air. And there would also be clear benefits. One was not being kidnapped by sociopathic Goddesses who wanted to force her to love them. Still, she probably would lose access to some of her own power or even a lot of it. And it was possible that the operation would destroy her.


    But there was no guarantee that it wouldn''t be in a better state of existence.


    That settled it; after Taha got out of this place, she was going to look into severing herself from her soul. Come to think of it, she''d read in several places that their spirit determined the length of a species'' life. Which meant if she played her cards right, she might make herself immortal.


    And then a door opened. And Rokas raced in, a hawk flying beside her. "Taha, come quickly!"


    "Rokas, how did you... is that Nendas?" asked Taha, stunned.


    "It is?" asked Rokas.


    "Yes, I remember Jaha transformed him into that," said Taha.


    "Then this is excellent news. You must come quickly; we cannot leave without you," said Rokas.


    "Why, how did you even get here?" asked Taha.


    "Elranor aided me in getting through the Divine Gate. Come quickly, Taha; we must go," said Rokas.


    This was a secret test of character, and Taha was not going to fall for it. "I can''t leave.


    "You do know that you''re infiltrating the domain of a God, don''t you? And she just left five seconds ago. There''s only one way this situation will end if I try to go with you. She''ll appear and lecture me on how I''m a worthless traitor or something.


    "Then I''ll be stuck tied up again."


    "We got in here unopposed, Taha," said Rokas. "And we have the support of several other deities. It may be that they are hiding us from sight.


    "Come on; you are needed in the city."


    "Why? What''s so important?" asked Taha.


    "We have only a matter of days now," said Rokas. "Soon, our home will be destroyed by divine judgment. The only way we can escape is to sacrifice ourselves willingly to appease them."


    Wait, sacrifice their lives to save people they did not know? People who had been actively terrible? Had Rokas taken to exotic herbs? "Wait a minute; you want to free me so I can be a human sacrifice?"


    "I am also giving myself up," said Rokas. "I would not arrange our reunion in such circumstances, but all that we fought for may be consumed by blood and fire."


    "But even if I do go with you, who says the sacrifice will work?" asked Taha ruefully. "I mean... in legal terms, I belong to Tamar now. And I''ve already given an oath not to leave without her permission.


    "I wish you''d gotten here five minutes earlier."


    "It may be that she got the oath from you five minutes before we arrived on purpose," noted Rokas.


    "In which case, we have no chance of escape anyway, Rokas," said Taha. "I can''t leave without Tamar''s permission. She almost certainly knows what we are doing and..." How to state this in a way Rokas would understand. "I gave my word. I can''t break it again."


    Technically true, and hopefully, it would pacify.


    "I don''t believe you," said Rokas.


    "Are you saying I would have no problem breaking an oath?" asked Taha.


    "Yes, Taha, I am," said Rokas. "You hold no value in such things save how breaking them might backfire.


    "So why are you doing this?"


    Caught lying again. Rokas always was sharper than he let on.


    "Alright, fine," said Tamar. "This is an obvious secret test of character, and I''m not going to give her the pleasure of falling into it. Even if she isn''t, she is able to move far swifter than us and is powerful.


    "If I thought there were any chance of escape, I''d accept the offer in a heartbeat. Tamar has no moral grounds to hold me; I advanced her goals even after I cult. What she was doing to me wrong by any standard of morality."


    "What about the idea that Gods can do what they want when they want?" asked Rokas.


    "Even Tamar doesn''t buy into that theory," said Taha. "Or she wouldn''t have gone to such lengths to justify herself to me. If your conscience is clear, you don''t have to keep insisting that it is."


    "Then our home will perish in fire," said Rokas.


    This was going nowhere.


    The only situation in which Taha was wrong was if Tamar was that stupid. And Elranor could provide them with cover. But even if that were the case, Taha would be going to her death and end up back here.


    So what were her options?


    "...Fine then," said Taha. "Tamar, since we all know you''re watching, how about you tell me if I can get permission for this?"


    Tamar appeared, looking very pleased with herself. "How nice of you to address me, Taha. I knew there was a reason I liked you. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Let me see here...


    "You sacrifice yourself heroically to redeem your sins. You suffer a painful death at the hands of Impus. And as soon as you die, you come back here to me. And this time, you can''t run away from me anymore, even if you want to.


    "What am I going to say, no?


    "I''ll tell you what, Taha. Finish this up, and I''ll have a very pleasurable welcome waiting for you."


    "What has she been doing to you?" asked Rokas, whose outrage seemed hypocritical. He now saw the cat ears and blonde hair.


    "A lot more than that," said Taha.


    Nendas swooped in and landed on Taha''s shoulder. He cawed at Tamar, who glared back in obvious hatred.


    "How did you rescue Nendas from Jaha anyway?" asked Taha.


    "He was waiting for me when he got out," said Rokas.


    "Oh, was he?" asked Tamar before raising a hand.


    There was a flash, and a cage of iron bars surrounded Nendas as he was pulled into the air.


    "What are you doing?" asked Rokas.


    "As I suspected," said Tamar. "So, Jaha thought she''d steal away my pet-"


    "I thought I was your slave," said Taha.


    "Jaha thought she''d steal away my slave pet and use her as a human sacrifice. Then have Nendas here fly back to her," said Tamar. "Sorry, but I don''t intend to let that happen."


    "Wait, Nendas, is this true?" asked Rokas.


    Nendas cawed in return.


    "Would you have gone back?" asked Taha, curious.


    "Of course, he would," said Tamar. "Jaha will have told him she''d curb his freedoms even more than she has already. This is his big opportunity to impress her. And he''s absolutely terrified of her retribution, aren''t you, Nendas?"


    Nendas was silent.


    "So you would have let our city burn?" asked Rokas.


    "He is going to have to spend the rest of eternity with Jaha, after all. And even if he was successfully sacrificed, he''d go right back to her," said Tamar. "I don''t think you realize how cruel Jaha can be. "It''s just that she makes you feel guilty for her being cruel to you.


    "Although I suppose she does have huge breasts, so, some benefit there."


    Taha thought Tamar was the last person to have an opinion on either subject. "So, what can we do?"


    "Obviously, you simply need to kidnap him," said Tamar. "Take him with you, and don''t let him out of the cage under any circumstances. He''s probably been threatened to come back, and I''d say he would. But, if he was forced against his will to run away, Jaha won''t have a problem with him.


    "Give him the opportunity to die as a sacrifice, with the knowledge that it''ll send him right back.


    "All three of you die horribly; Jaha and I get our pets back, and everyone is a man or woman of their word."


    "You make it sound far more pleasant for us than it actually will be," noted Rokas.


    "Relax, will you," said Tamar. "You all know for sure there is an afterlife, and you brought all of this on yourselves anyway."


    "I take your point," said Rokas.


    They turned to leave, but Tamar spoke suddenly.


    "Oh, and Taha," said Tamar.


    Taha turned and found Tamar''s lips on her.


    "That''s for luck," said Tamar.


    Taha tried desperately to suppress the wave of revulsion she felt at the kiss. However, that emotion alone could get her killed or worse. So she focused on the physical sensation, how it was a physical pleasure. Focus wholly on the hedonistic aspect and not on the implications surrounding it. Or the foreshadowing of what was coming.


    Focus on getting out of there.


    Get out.


    Now.


    *This chapter is drawn from a separate manuscript. The previous one was incomplete and ended before Tamar met with Rokas and Nendas. It is possible that those two were the people referred to going to meet.


    However, because of the source material, Tamar''s meeting is never resolved. I keep it for the sake of completion.

 Chapter Twenty-One: Through Divine Eyes

    Elranor had to admit; this was not how he wanted to spend his time.


    One of the problems with being a God of Healing and Death was also one of the main benefits. All the universe was your domain, but that left you with a lot of ground to cover. The truth was his devotion to letting people make their own choices. It was as much pragmatic conservatism as ideology. If he tried to take the active role some of his compatriots had, he''d never get anything done.


    There were too many things to be healed and to die in too many ways.


    Jaha was perhaps a microcosm of the concept.


    "Oh, that witch! That absolute witch!" Jaha cried as she watched the scene play out. "Now Nendas is going to feel obligated to be killed brutally!"


    Jaha didn''t get angry very often. She had projected her more hostile and combative nature of justice onto Nendas: that and some of her fragments in far-off worlds. Most deities had two domains, each one being the other side of the side coin. Peace and Justice were Jaha''s, both requiring the other, even as they were foils.


    "In all fairness, Jaha, you did attempt to steal one of her souls first," noted Elranor. "And, this is, at best, a momentary inconvenience."


    "That''s not the point, Elranor," said Jaha. "She''s unfairly pressuring Nendas to act contrary to his nature. He''ll have to let himself die to come back to me."


    "It will likely save a great many lives," noted Elranor.


    "But what about Nendas? He''s stuck in a cage, lonely and afraid," said Jaha. "The poor thing.


    "He''s trying to escape, even though he doesn''t want to. I knew this was too much, too fast for him."


    "Have you considered letting Nendas go?" asked Elranor.


    "What?" said Jaha. "But he''s mine."


    "In the sense of physical possession, yes," said Elranor. "But you do not seem to have any regard for his own will or desires. You are risking alienating him permanently."


    "Nothing like that will happen," said Jaha. "Nendas is my other. He doesn''t have a choice."


    Elranor would have to do some spannering here, wouldn''t he?


    The basic problem was that Nendas had absolutely no choice. While he could choose to sacrifice himself or not, it did not affect his fate. Things had been set up, so his own will was wholly irrelevant. Which, of course, was the problem with Jaha''s belief system.


    When divorced from the earth of justice, mercy could create only a tame and toothless world. One where free will was an illusion and growth was impossible. It was to render sentient creatures no more than mere beasts. Nendas to Jaha was divined only by what had happened to him, not by what he had chosen to do.


    But Jaha wasn''t going to listen to reason. Her sense of justice was all protected by other fragments. Tamar would only laugh as long as Taha was made her slave. And nothing would get better about how things were operating.


    So, Elranor was going to have to employ someone else.


    This plan was a risk; of course, it could result in a dangerous dark lord. But the alternative would ensure Jaha and Tamar both became dark lords in their own right. The prospect of Tamar with Taha as a chief lieutenant was too horrifying to contemplate. Taha was nice enough as she was, but she could, and had, been a monster in a different life and time.


    Time to pay Melchious a visit.


    The domain of torment was as unpleasant as always. Elranor walked through the hells and sent what light he could to ease the agony of those here. As he walked, a strawberry blonde demoness, whose hair fell in waves, barred his path. She was clad in a long, strapless black dress that clung to her shapely form. "Lord Elranor..."


    "Where is your master?" asked Elranor.


    "Inside," said Rubia, shaking. "Waiting for you."


    Elranor entered through a set of black gates and found Melchious within them. Though he was not in the form, he was usually known. He was wearing a bathrobe and sitting on a sofa in a luxurious living room. On the walls were pictures of many victories fought and won. There were also images of starships flying overhead, burning worlds. There were beams of light melting continents. But Melchious was not looking at those, inside reading a book on genetic engineering. Next to him, on a table, were several astrophysics books and a cup of coffee.


    Melchious did not notice him at first but eventually put the book down and smiled. "Father?


    "I didn''t see you there; I focused on some easy reading." And he stood, his outfit changing to white armor. "I wasn''t expecting you here. To what do I owe the pleasure?"


    "There is no pleasure in this meeting, Melchious," said Elranor. He refused to be friendly when making this kind of visit. One should not be friendly with the one you consider evil. Friendliness is an endorsement. "Only necessity. Jaha and Tamar have become intolerable and are liable only to get worse. Samrasa is wholly corrupt and depraved. Impus has decided to stand on his rights and destroy Tarasif.


    "The mortals have arranged a sacrifice of three willing mortals. But it will only preserve the flesh. My cult is in hiding, and Jaha is in no position to take over in the power vacuum after Samrasa dies."


    "My sympathies," said Melchious. "Get to the point."


    "I''m going to offer you a chance to perform a mission of liberation, Anoa," said Elranor. "No doubt you are aware of the one called Nendas?"


    "My extension?" asked Melchious. "Didn''t he become the Avatar of Jaha somehow?" An ''extension'' was a particular kind of spirit. It was a soul Melchious had created ages ago without a demonic taint. It was created with an element of power but had a degree of independence.


    Yet it was also tied deeply to Melchious. So long as such a soul was incarnated, Melchious could use them as an anchor to return. He''d used it to survive much death, always returning to bring more ruin.


    "Nendas is being enslaved by Jaha spiritually, against his will," said Elranor.


    "As opposed to all those who are enslaved according to their will?" asked Melchious.


    Elranor did not take the bait. Both knew full well that there were ways to enslave someone without them knowing it. Melchious had worked for people who did that as a matter of course. "I give you leave to cancel the spell."


    "And the catch?" asked Melchious.


    "There is no catch," said Elranor. "You can take the opportunity or leave it. I''m giving you a chance to do something good and the cover to achieve it because you are the only one who can. After all, you are the Lord of Torment, so his forced misery puts him in your domain.


    "Of course, if you wanted to misuse this moment to try and offer a deal with a demon, that is your own business. Whatever you do, I''ll plan around it.


    "The door is open."


    And he walked out.


    "Thank you very much," said Melchious.


    Realistically speaking, Melchious had much to gain by freeing Nendas. It opened up the possibility for a major disaster if Nendas went off script. At the same time, it also opened up an opportunity for real good. So it was still worth the risk to involve him.


    Elranor withdrew from physical form and turned his will toward the three friends. Taha, Rokas, and Nendas had made their way down the mountains. They had journeyed over several days, and now both were exhausted. Nendas stood within his cage, watching beneath a tree''s watch.


    Then, Melchious'' agent appeared.


    It was Rubia, one more daughter of Fortenex. She was clad in red cloth that bared her legs, shoulders, and the sides of her breasts. Her golden hair fell around her shoulders. Moving forward with swayings hips toward Nendas, the hawk let out a cry. Yet, the cry did not reach.


    "Well, you seem to be having a problem," said Rubia. "Terrified out of your mind to return to the Goddess of Peace. And yet there is no place you wouldn''t rather be at her side."


    So they intended to offer a deal, as Elranor had expected. Depending on what choice Nendas would make, Elranor would have to adjust his strategy. Of course, on a higher level, Elranor already knew how this would turn out. He existed within time and space and therefore was bound by it.


    "Oh, you needn''t fear. I''m not here for them," said Rubia, leaning in near the cage. "Believe it or not, I''m here to fight an injustice."


    Nendas saw nothing and simply stood there glaring at her. Rubia met his gaze and held it for a time before sighing and turning away. "...Yes, well, I realize it''s a bit silly sounding, but it makes sense.


    "You see, I was wondering if you might be interested in serving me."


    Nendas remained silent.


    "Reluctant to give yourself to a demon?" asked Rubia. "I suppose the situation is unreasonable, but let me ask you this;


    "What salvation can you expect?


    "You''re not going to hell when you die. No matter what you do or say, you''ll go straight to Jaha. She''s completely unconcerned with who you are or what you want. She loves you unconditionally and is never going to let you go.


    "Even if you demonstrate your loyalty to her, do you think she''ll improve your treatment?"


    Nendas emanated a feeling of unease, and Elranor wondered if he should intervene. Perhaps not yet. Mortals were stronger when they rejected demons of their own will. And when they didn''t...


    Well, the lessons could be useful.


    "Oh yes, she''ll appreciate your loyalty and be very proud," said Rubia. "She''ll let you fly around when you want and take you with her when she visits. But we both know you''ll never have the guts to escape again.


    "She''s already got you almost completely broken.


    "You were an extension of her from the moment the brand was put on your head. Her will filled you, took your thoughts and desires, and bound you like a slave. Only your collar was in your mind. All your attempts to destroy her worship couldn''t shake her off.


    "But, then, you can''t make an informed decision like this, can you?


    "Well, let''s see if we can do something about that."


    And then Rubia reached out and took hold of the divine spirit ingrained into Nendas'' mind. As he did, the power of Jaha was drawn out of it. Elranor saw Jaha looking up in horror. "Nendas! Nendas, no, stay with me!"


    Then her power over him was gone.


    "There," said Rubia. "I''ve sent her influence over you back to her.


    "Now, perhaps we can talk. I''m prepared to offer your spirit an escape from your present fate. Swear loyalty to me, and I can shelter you from the Gods. Including one for Taha, if she will accept it. Tamar is a rival of mine, and denying her control of one of her pets would be a golden opportunity.


    "You can serve as my agent in all affairs. The three of you could go far in the service of Zigildrazia. We can offer you an opportunity for vengeance upon Samrasa. You could rule over Tarasif yourselves.


    "A far better deal than the Gods, who would have you sacrifice everything for a fate worse than death."


    Nendas looked at her, distinctly unimpressed.


    "Oh, come now," said Rubia. "The least you could do is consider if. I have come all this way and freed you. You might at least pretend to be tempted by what I have to say?"


    There was absolute, scathing silence.


    "Hmm, so apparently, promises of power and safety are of little value to you," mused Rubia. "I suppose, given your sire, it makes sense. No matter. I suppose you''ll be following my will; if you don''t want to be paid for it, that''s fine by me.


    "Be seeing you."


    And she vanished.


    And no one was the wiser. Taha soon rose from sleep, moving forward with tail flicking in the morning light. "Nendas... did you sleep alright?"


    Nendas was silent.


    "I guess you can''t answer me," said Taha, looking at one hand that seemed somewhat clawlike. "These changes Tamar put me through, I... I hear things and smell things I never did before.


    "I get the feeling we''re going to have a serious problem soon.


    "Listen, I...


    "Nendas, I love you, you know that. Before all this happened, I''d been hoping to marry you someday. I mean... I guess we went ahead with things before marriage, but...


    "That''s never going to happen now, is it?


    "Even if we succeed at this, we''ll all die. Rokas will go wherever it is he wants. I... well, I guess Tamar will want me back. And you''ll go back to Jaha. I... I don''t think the gods will let any of us go after this, Nendas.


    "But you''ve got it the worst of us, right?


    "I mean, I could run for it now if I wanted to. Delay the inevitable. Rokas doesn''t have to go back at all, but...


    "You can''t do anything, can you?


    "If we open that cell door, you must return to Jaha. If I made a run for it... I don''t think Tamar would care. I mean, she''d probably really work me a lot harder for a bit, but...


    "I guess I''m saying that I swore myself to Tamar.


    "I chose to join her cult, even if I didn''t buy into it.


    "But you...


    "You got tricked into wearing the stupid brand, and Jaha entered your mind. You didn''t choose to be her Avatar. And you spent your entire life trying to get her to renounce you, but... she never did, did she? S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "And now you have to fly back to her, or else what little freedom you''ve got left will be taken from you.


    "And the only thing I can do is keep you in that cage until we all die. Because as long as you''re trapped in a cage, you can''t be held responsible for not returning.


    "I...


    "Nendas, I am sorry. I am so sorry.


    "But that''s all I can say, isn''t it? I can''t do anything.


    "We''re just pets, and the gods do whatever they want with us."


    And she was silent for a long time. Elranor considered possible responses and concluded the matter was beyond him. Now Rokas had stood up. "Come, we must get up.


    "We have a road to travel."


    "Right, let''s go," said Taha.


    Elranor watched, calculating as he did so.


    Nendas was approached in his own realm, and Elranor had enough power to observe as it happened. Now it was time to wait and see what happened next. Jaha was appearing, approaching, worried as always.


    "Nendas, don''t worry," said Jaha. "I''m going to arrange for you to escape soon, then you can return to me."


    But Nendas stayed still, staring at her simply.


    "What do you mean by this?" asked Jaha. "You have to come back. It''s what is best for you."


    Nendas said nothing.


    "Is this about your city?" asked Jaha. "They were the ones who twisted you into what you are. You don''t need to endure the trauma of being killed for them."


    "...Although, I suppose that it would take you some time to get back at this rate. It might even be faster this way," mused Jaha. "Alright, Nendas, if you want to do this, I''ll let you die like this.


    "But after that, you''re mine."


    Well, that was... fortunate.


    Elranor was pleased Jaha had enough composure to not needlessly waste resources. Her consciousness was effectively fractured. The regaining of her divine consciousness had been underway for a long time. Part of the problem was that each piece of her had altered and changed over time. Each one was gaining an individuality of its own.


    That made reuniting lost pieces more or less impossible directly. Karus had done her work too well. Even so, Jaha, as she was, could be restored to her old self if she continued to grow. A sense of pragmatism was progress. Her association with Nendas had proven beneficial after all. His experiences and perspectives had been imprinted onto her. It gained her a more sophisticated perspective.


    But dealing with those revelations could take time.


    It was a shame that it had taken this long. Elranor had a lot of other parts of the universe that dearly needed a Goddess of Peace, far more than one of war.


    "Hold, the King''s men are ahead of us," said Rokas.


    "Um... Rokas, maybe I should do the talking here," said Taha.


    "I admit, I have never been one for words," said Rokas, nodding.


    The soldiers moved forward and lowered pikes as Taha moved forward. She was changed by her time with Tamar, with inhumane features. They eyed her in fear more than wonder or respect.


    "Hold where you are, creature! The King commands you shall not pass!"


    "Hello, it''s me, Taha," said Taha.


    "...Taha, the servant of Nendas, who went mad for heresy?" asked a man. "What manner of devilry is this? You look part animal."


    "I got abducted and transformed by a god," said Taha simply. "The hawk is Nendas, and Rokas saved us. We need to get past you."


    "In the name of the King, none shall pass!" said the man. "Your unholy temples shall be burned soon, and then the Impus shall have no power over us!" As usual, Samrasa was responding to things out of his control the only way he knew how.


    "Hang on, what?" asked Taha in horror. "If you do that, it''ll only make him angry!"


    "His anger matters not," said a guard. "He has only the power we let him have."


    "...Listen, the King can do whatever he wants, but let us through," said Taha. "We''re not even going to be staying long. Nendas, Rokas, and I are due to sacrifice ourselves to Impus to appease him.


    "We''ll be dead a few minutes after they find us."


    "You would practice appeasement to such abominations? If you are Taha, you have fallen far!" said the guard.


    "Honestly, I never really bought into your religion of god-hatred," said Taha with a shrug. "It just... seemed a convenient ideology to latch onto while I was doing social climbing. I''ve gotten a bit tired of it, so now that it''s inconvenient, I''m throwing it away.


    "Look, what do you have to lose here?


    "If we go there and your plan works, you can kill us. If we go there and your plan doesn''t, you have a backup plan. If we don''t go there and your plan doesn''t work, everyone will die.


    "Just-"


    "Enough!" said the guard. "Turn back now, or face our blade!"


    Taha sighed. "...Alright, so we''re going to do this the hard way, huh? Let''s go, Rokas."


    Elranor decided to act here.


    Raising a hand, he sent forth his will. The cage around Nendas shattered, and the hawk was bathed in light. When the light passed, Nendas was whole again and held in place his sword as he looked at those before him. They numbered as many as had guarded Samrasa on the journey from the Hasafa Clan lands long ago.


    They were no obstacle.


    "Nendas," said Taha.


    The men stepped back in terror.


    "What the..." said another. "It''s Nendas! The false prophet!"


    "That bird turned into a human! Impossible!" said a man.


    "They say he condemned the Lord Munsuf to hellfire by word alone!" said another.


    "Don''t believe in it; it''s no more than more god trickery! None of it is real! It''s only magic!" said the soldier. "Kill them! Kill them all and consign them to the nothingness of death!"


    But Nendas, Rokas and Taha moved faster. They fell on the enemy, overrunning them and scattering them. The Captain had his spear broken and was thrown to the ground. His men fled as Nendas raised his sword. The way to Tarasif lay open.


    "Well... that went well," said Rokas.


    "Don''t kill any of them if they come back," said Nendas. "We have enough blood on our hands. Come, we must reach the city and fast."


    "Wait, you''re not going back?" asked Taha in surprise.


    "Jaha can wait a little while," said Nendas. "I will not abandon my home to destruction so easily. Also... this is probably the fastest way back at this point, so I''m still following her will."


    "Good point," said Taha.


    Well, it had been set in motion, then. Now the only question was how Elranor was going to deal with Taha. While as normal as any human soul ever was, she was likely to cause some serious problems.*


    *I don''t care for this interpretation of Elranor. And I care less about Tanith insisting this text be used.


    It seems far too long-suffering and put upon. Instead of the majesty of a being equal parts merciful and cold, he comes across as human.


    And gods are not human.


    Moreover, the idea that Melchious is Elranor''s son is ludicrous. The only sons Elranor ever had were Gail Arengeth and Anoa the Bright. The relationship was with a jewelry smith who he loved and remained faithful to. Gail Arengeth has to my knowledge, never spoken of any such third child, and he would certainly know.


    A possible way to make this work would be to suggest that Anoa became Melchious. And that is ridiculous; Melchious is not threatening or destructive enough to be Anoa. If someone as powerful as Anoa the Bright were to become a demon, the result would not be occasional terror.


    Anoa going bad would mean a new age of darkness for the universe. We are not living in such an age; ergo, Melchious cannot be Anoa.

 Chapter Twenty-Two: A City on Fire

    The road to Tarasif had grown difficult.


    The road had decayed with time, as peasants stole stones from it while Samrasa and Munsuf had feasted. But it was more than the pits in the road that could break an ankle. It was as though some power or force kept them at bay, fighting their approach tooth and nail. But what power would desire such a thing? Nendas wondered if it was not the will of the people of Tarasif itself. Perhaps Samrasa''s grip over their hearts and minds had resonated outward. Now their journey was opposed by a kind of will.


    Every step was more difficult than the last, and a feral hatred tore at them. And above them, the sky became utterly black. Not a single star shone in the sky above, and yet there was no cloud texture. It was as though the sky itself was veiled in shadow.


    "Look at those clouds," said Taha.


    "Those aren''t clouds," said Nendas, realizing it. "The Sun Spirit itself is not shedding light on the city." Samrasa''s power had manifested, or perhaps some power working through Samrasa. Having been provoked, it was in full flower and clawed at Nendas'' thoughts, turning his gaze back.


    He thought about running, the three fleeing to other places, their masters. Why should they face certain death and perhaps damnation? Why should Taha be condemned to be Tamar''s slave?


    But no.


    They had to get to Tarasif, and he resolved to keep up the attack. But doing so only seemed to make the will fight them all the stronger. Now he felt as though he was actively being pushed back or had men dragging on him with ropes. He told himself that if this power was set against them, it could not do the same in other areas.


    Perhaps they pressed on enough; they might break this spell.


    "What are we going to do here?" asked Taha.


    "What do you mean?" asked Nendas.


    "Do we just go into the town square and cut our throats in plain sight?" asked Taha. "Or are we supposed to check in first? What''s the plan?"


    "I imagine we should head to the shrine of Impus," said Rokas. "It may be that they have some insight for us..."


    "We''re not going to that curse place," said Nendas. "We''ll go to the shrine of Elranor for a start. Failing that, we can go to Jaha''s domain instead.


    "But I don''t think that will be an easy task."


    They rounded the corner in horror, and a snarl went through the air.


    Coming round the bend of the trees saw flames rising high in Tarasif. Many of the temples were burning, and he found the gates unguarded. Those manning them had abandoned their posts. People were throwing water onto flaming houses and evacuating others.


    "What is going on here?" asked Nendas of a person.


    "King Samrasa has lost his mind," said a man. "After Impus appeared, he declared that traitors had undermined the city''s defense! He started going from door to door and dragging people out to be executed!


    "The priests sheltered some, and he went to war with them.


    "Kalif has taken their part, but now there''s fighting throughout the city. Samrasa lost the palace in the fighting but started setting fire to places he didn''t control. Now the blaze is all over the city. The Priests of Jaha have kept us organized, and we''re fighting it, but if we don''t get some rain, we''ll be finished. And if we do, Samrasa will kill us all.


    "He''s whipped up mobs! People we knew, and they''ve gone mad, hacking down anyone he says just because he says so! Some zealots said now was the time, and they started killing each other!"


    "Where is Samrasa now!" said Nendas. There would be blood for this.


    "At the Temple of Jaha," said the man. "But what do you intend to do."


    "Stop him for a start," said Nendas, calming himself. "There are divine plans in motion that might save us. But it won''t do us any good if that madman continues like this. Taha, Rokas, come with me.


    "So much for a secular utopia."


    And they raced quickly through the streets. Now and then, Nendas would stop to organize people into a firing squad, casting water onto the blaze. Taha utilized her rituals, trying to summon the wind. But Tamar found the flames amusing, so they continued burning as the air stayed dead.


    But at last, they came to the temple of Jaha.


    And it was under siege. Samrasa and his ilk stood at the base of the stairs, hurling torches and firing arrows. Corpses of Tarasif soldiers riddled the stairs with arrows in them and the bodies of priests. Armored soldiers were at the gates of the ziggurat, wielding a great ram.


    "Armed troops are marching on the temple..." said Nendas under his pressure.


    "Are you surprised?" said Taha. "We''ve seen this done a thousand times."


    "Yes, but... this time, we will stop it," said Nendas.


    And drawing his sword, he rushed forward in front of the army of Samrasa. Springing up the stairs, he drew his blade and pointed it at the King. "Stay where you are, Samrasa!


    "If you cast down this temple, it will only lead to further devastation!"


    "Your lies mean nothing to us!" cried Samrasa. "Kill the priest and slaughter all those within!"


    The soldiers rushed forward. But the three of them fought together, disarming them and casting back down the steps. Those with the ram turned, drew their swords, and descended in a charge. At this point, Nendas, Rokas, and Taha stepped aside, letting them blunder down the steps and land on their faces.


    Charging downhill was not always a good idea. Their enemies looked at them for a moment and must have seen something.


    "Kill him!" said Samrasa, coming forward. "He''s the one who brought this curse on us."


    "I''m sorry, what?" asked Taha.


    "Stay your hand! I have no desire to fight you!" said Nendas. He''d had his fill of revenge for this life. Well, not really, but that was what one ought to say.


    "Then die where you stand! Your lies brought the gods'' judgment down upon us!" said Samrasa.


    "Well, what are you doing, then?" asked Taha.


    "This temple must be purged to break the power of the gods!" said Samrasa.


    "Do you even hear yourself!" said Taha. "You''re proclaiming us irredeemable for doing the thing you are doing right now! The things you ordered us to do!"


    "And you are trying to stop us!" said Samrasa. "You are responsible for this calamity. Now you are preventing our righteous execution of these worthless weaklings."


    "If you do not call your men off, we will be dead by the hand of the gods you are attacking very soon," noted Rokas.


    "To die appeasing such creatures?! You have fallen far, Rokas!" said Samrasa.


    "But..." Nendas stared. "You said that I was irredeemable for destroying temples. But I''m also irredeemable for trying to protect them. And equally irredeemable for sacrificing my life to appease the gods I angered."


    "What can we do that wouldn''t make us irredeemable?" asked Taha curiously.


    "You can submit to your destruction!" snarled Samrasa.


    Silence.


    "...But we''re trying to do that!" said Rokas.


    "MY WORD IS INFALLIBLE!! KILL THEM ALL! AND LET THE GODS SORT THEM OUT!!" screamed Samrasa.


    And he raced up the hill, howling like a savage with wild eyes devoid of reason or faith. Nendas stepped forward, turned his blade, and cut off his hands. The King fell to one knee, screaming as Nendas brought around his sword. The blade stabbed him through the armpit, into the heart. Samrasa''s eyes bulged wide, and Nendas pulled the blade out and let him topple down the stairs. Samarasa tumbled down and hit the ground, where he spat out blood and died.


    Samrasa was dead. So was Munsuf and Ralign.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Honor was satisfied, and his Father was avenged.


    It was so easy.


    Whatever madness had possessed the warriors of Samrasa, it had come from the King. Though perhaps it had come through him as light does a lens. Now, as the corpse of an evil old man hit the ground at their feet, they wavered. The fantasy of a benevolent lord died with him, and they saw the flames around them, the bodies that had been left.


    And they scattered and fled.


    Nendas looked at the body of his enemy and wondered what to do? Should he regret his decision or lament his fall? Why would he? He''d tried to stop him, and Samrasa was a monster who had more than earned it. Nendas wasn''t even trying to fight him; he would give him what he wanted.


    Should he take joy in the destruction of his hated enemy? There wasn''t much of it. He''d have been pitiable if he weren''t so vicious and evil. Everything he''d built had fallen apart around him, and he had no one but himself to blame. Yet, he felt hatred still and wondered why.


    "It had to be done," said Rokas.


    "Any regrets?" asked Taha.


    "...No," said Nendas. "Even if Samrasa had lived, if he were going to reform, it would have been long ago. He''d have kept doing one horror after enough, in a diminished state, until he was destroyed. More sins would have been added to his soul, ensuring his damnation would be all the worse.


    "And everyone else would be far worse off.


    "Samrasa is better off dead. And now that he''s gone, our lives are greatly improved. But that doesn''t make it a cause for celebration."


    "Was I ever that incoherent?" asked Taha.


    "Mostly, you used the King''s ideology as an excuse to pursue your self-interest. So, no," said Rokas.


    "Cousin Nendas?" asked a voice.


    Turning, Nendas saw Sarafi coming out of the doors and running toward him. She''d grown up, becoming taller, and her brown hair fell long behind her. A single bang went down between her eyes. "Cousin, you''re alive." And with her came many others while still more came from the houses.


    "Yes, I..." Nendas faltered and kneeled to embrace her.


    "Are you alright?" asked Sarafi. "They were saying awful things about you earlier. They weren''t true, were they?"


    "I don''t know; I haven''t heard them," said Nendas. "But, some of them, no doubt, will be true.


    "I have not been a good person in my life until now. I can only hope to repair what I''ve done."


    "Then Jaha is not leaving us?" asked Sarafi.


    Nendas broke the embrace and brushed a strand of hair from her face. "No.


    "I don''t think she ever will.


    "Sarafi... when I''m gone, I need you to take care of the faith. Jaha will need you. I know it isn''t what you wanted to do... but..."


    "Why can''t you do it?" asked Sarafi. "Where are you going?"


    "I''m not sure," said Nendas. "But I need you to be strong for the Hasafa. Do you have anyone here you can trust?"


    "Yes, the Priests of Jaha..." Sarafi paused. "The leader is one of our clan."


    "Go to him," said Nendas, and he kissed her on the brow. "Keep the faith alive."


    Then he rose and turned around to see Impus descending. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And every light in the city went out. The flames were dulled, the skies went darker still, and the city went utterly quiet.


    "The sacrifices are here," said Impus, raising a hand. "Then you will die."


    "Nendas, Taha, it has been an honor," said Rokas.


    "Thanks for the input, but we''re not going anywhere," said Taha.


    Oh no, she wasn''t going to try and cheat the gods again, was she? Nendas looked at her and saw Taha looking up at Impus. "A question, Impus.


    "Why are we here, singled out as a sacrifice for this city?"


    "Your deaths will balance the books," said Impus.


    "How?" asked Taha.


    "You are choosing to die in their place. Or choosing not to," said Impus. "I will claim the lives of this entire city should you refuse."


    "But why is our sacrifice significant?" asked Taha. "What do we provide in terms of repentance? And why can''t a virtue of individual repentance give it."


    "They will not repent," said Impus before the faces of the people.


    "Then why should they be spared?" asked Taha. "If the people are in a state of perpetual sin, then logically, our sacrifice will do nothing but enable them. Do our lives have some nature that, when sacrificed, will wipe away their sins?


    "I sincerely doubt that."


    "Our deaths might inspire others to repent themselves," noted Rokas.


    "But couldn''t that be inspired a different way? One more effective than human sacrifice," asked Taha.


    "The books must be balanced," said Impus, unmoved.


    "Where are these books?" asked Nendas suddenly. "If there is some debt, then let the proof be brought forth."


    "He''s right," said Taha. "We can hardly have a discussion about means of payment if we have no documents proving payment is owed."


    "You and all your kind owe more than all the world could afford to repay in a century," said Impus. "The gods gave you form and life. The world you wander and sustain yourself in comes from them. The air you breathe is of the making of beings beyond your kin.


    "Your debts are limitless.


    "It is not debt that has drawn me forth, but rebellion. You have destroyed the temples and brought the void. The void has come."


    "And you are the God of the Void, then?" asked Taha, which was obvious.


    "Yes," said Impus. His voice never changed.


    "What crimes specifically have we committed against you beyond the temples?" asked Taha.


    "You have murdered the faithful, and let them be murdered," said Impus. "You have desecrated the holy places of this world. You perpetuated a war of faithlessness on your neighbors."


    "Explain to me how it is more wicked to make bloody war on someone because they have religion at all? Instead of because they have the wrong religion?" asked Taha.


    "Irrelevant," replied Impus. "A false sacrifice to a false idol."


    "May I speak?" asked Rokas.


    "Yes," said Impus.


    "What of the faithful who are in this city?" asked Rokas. "Those who were unable or unwilling to flee?


    "Will you claim their lives?"


    "There are few of them now, but I shall spare them," said Impus.


    "And what if the number of faithful were to be increased by sacrifices made of the individual will?" asked Taha. "Would you then spare the city?"


    "Yes," said Impus.


    "And what sacrifice would be sufficient to demonstrate such faith?" asked Nendas.


    "Whatever is lifeless and most precious," replied Impus.


    Nendas nodded and turned to the priests. "You go into the temple and get wood and other things to burn. Then, all of you go home and find your most precious possession. We will make a great bonfire, and you will cast it into the fire before the sight of Impus. Spread the word of this chance to everyone; we must move quickly.


    "Go now before his displeasure becomes greater. If we are to purchase the pardon of Impus, we must act."


    "But, couldn''t you-" began one.


    "I''m not sacrificing myself anymore," said Taha. "As long as this way the only way, I might go through with it. But if they''ve been allowed to repent without anyone dying. They won''t take it; they deserve this.


    "I''ve had more than I bargained for out here already."


    "Your sacrifice," said Impus.


    "Mine?" asked Taha. "I don''t even live here, and I''m doomed either way. Why should I give up anything?"


    Impus looked at her, and Taha met the gaze beneath the robe if there was anything. After a moment, she began to sweat and looked away. A flame was conjured before them, even as more fuel was brought forward. Reluctantly, Taha looked at her belt and drew off her belt of daggers. Looking at them, Nendas saw she had kept them well-maintained, polished, and repaired. Every battle, she had retrieved these ones'', no matter how long the searching.


    "I..." said Tamar. "These are... these are my knives. I earned them in the Cult of Tamar, and they were important to me. But I guess they were never really mine, to begin with."


    She cast them into the flames; as she did, they melted and burned within moments. Nendas watched as they were utterly destroyed before his eyes. Taha looked at the ground, downcast.


    And eyes turned to Nendas. And he wondered what he could give up.


    There was only one thing.


    Drawing up his sword, he looked at the blade given to him by his Father. It was well-maintained. "My sword that I have carried through many battles."


    It was a loss as he tossed it into the flames and saw it melt and burn. Nendas felt truly miserable as their eyes turned to Rokas. The third of their number, however, shrugged. "I have nothing I value in the physical. I''ve lost too much to care for such things." Then he looked to his hands where his gauntlets were. "But, my gauntlets."


    Drawing them off, he cast them into the flames and did not look at them as they burned.


    Now Sarafi came forward, holding an amulet of fine silver. "An amulet I got from my father."


    That, too, was cast into the flame as well.


    And so it began, and many people came forward with offerings. Some were met by Impus carrying false offerings, and these fled in terror. Most returned later, and soon a great bonfire was forming. Each person casts their most treasured possession. Some, however, had nothing to give, and these Impus were pardoned and sent away.


    Nendas watched it unfold with a profound sense of apathy. The ceremony seemed now wholly meaningless to him. Yet Taha seemed to regard it as though it was somehow significant. At the same time, Rokas seemed to share Taha''s view for once.


    Hours and hours stretched by. Nendas became ever more disgusted by the proceedings. Over time, he found himself loathing the ceremony. He despised the terrified people who bowed and scraped to this formless void of meaning. Even loathing Impus himself with a level of hatred that surprised him.


    Everything that had happened had been nothing more than a game of chess. All between indifferent and out-of-touch monsters. The rules had been rigged from the start and changed when no longer convenient. Taha had just humiliated the deities into admitting the sacrifice had no meaning at all.


    It was just one more means of control.


    "Your sacrifices have met my gaze.


    "I depart.


    "Do not make me return."


    Impus left.


    Many people found this a life-changing experience. But Nendas only found it completely disgusting and hated this world and everyone in it. Almost even his friends. So he turned and walked away toward... anywhere really.


    "Where are you going?" asked Rokas.


    "To get a new sword," said Nendas. "I lost mine. I think I''ll take a black one this time."


    "What about the temple?" called Sarafi. "The priests? The people here?"


    "The temple doesn''t matter," said Nendas. "And the priests are in no position to pass judgment on anyone. As for the people, this is their fault, to begin with, so let them do something about it. Taha, Rokas, come on, Kulat is going to invade in a few weeks, and we''ll need to be prepared when it happens."


    Murmurs of fear.


    "Kulat will invade?" said one.


    "Well, of course," said Nendas. "They''ve every reason to want revenge. And we''re not exactly in a position to resist them. We have to start preparing for a siege right now, or when they arrive, they''ll kill us all.


    "Stores of food must be stockpiled and rationed; weapons must be made and prepared. The walls must be inspected and repaired where necessary. I recommend requesting aid from the old vassals. I imagine Samrasa''s loyalists will be reluctant to aid us, and those he alienated will be suspicious of us. But we might get some help.


    "It''s going to be grim, bloody, and probably won''t end well for us. But if the entire city mobilizes and does all it can, we may come out of this independence. We also need to rally behind a leader quickly."


    "Will you lead us?" asked a man.


    Nendas blinked in surprise and realized he had to take the opportunity, even if it would damn him to do so. "I will."


    Nice to know nothing had changed.


    Clouds rolled in, and the rain came down in torrents.

 Chapter Twenty-Three: Many Battles

    Weeks later, Nendas made his way up the steps of the walls of Tarasif and much had changed since. The buildings nearest the walls had been torn down, and men were drilling in the ruins. Kalif stood atop, looking out over the fields where hedges and trees were being cut back. As Nendas reached the top, he looked up, feeling a wind blowing through his hair. At the top of the steps, he saw his King, Kalif, looking over it. The King looked down at him as he came to stand beside him, eyes wary.


    "So, you''re here at last?" asked Kalif.


    "There were some sick and injured to attend to from the building projects," said Nendas.


    "Well, I''ll be glad to have them back to work," said Kalif. "I''m surprised you decided to side with me. You could have become King yourself with the regard shown for you, Nendas."


    Nendas shrugged. "I am the Avatar of Jaha.


    "My purpose is to serve her, and to become King would require me to betray that service. Besides, I have no interest in the task anyway."


    "Well, I am pleased to have a supporter with such an attitude," said Kalif. He was looking down at recent arrivals. "You men, move up to the northmost fortifications; we need more men to shore up the defenses there."


    That had been the way things had gone for all this time. Kalif had been in a flurry of activity, hardly spending time in his palace. Most of his time was spent speaking with local leaders and organizing reconstruction.


    And then Taha came down the steps from where she had been meditating. Kalif did not look back. "Taha, what news from Tamar?"


    "I''ve communed with her," said Taha. "She won''t be helping us."


    "What do you mean?" asked Nendas. "Surely you''ve brought many over to her side."


    "Tamar doesn''t have many subjects in this place," said Taha. "Not of the zealous kind anyway. Most of them are east of Kulat. And she likes her subjects to earn her miracles.


    "And she has some other matter she is pouring power into. Though she mentions we might have some indirect help.


    "I have also received news from the east wind. The armies of Kulat are coming. They''ll begin their invasion soon. Nothing further east of that, though; Tamar has denied me sight."


    "Then it is fortunate we began preparations when we did," said Kalif. "You were not in error, Nendas.


    "Now, let us review our chances.


    "I have ordered the women and children to move from the city to strongholds in the mountains. They were built in ancient days. It should save us on the number of mouths we need to feed if it becomes prolonged.


    "Some of my best men will guard them here.


    "The priests with martial training have also pledged to aid us. We''ve torn down the houses nearest to the walls. I''ve also had the trees nearest to the city cut down and used for reinforcement. It should give us a clear line of sight.


    "Taha, can you call on the winds to aid our archers? Or does Tamar still refuse?"


    "I''m not sure it''s a good idea," said Taha. "Tamar usually demands something in return for favors. Sacrifices, incense, that sort of thing. I think she let me use her power because I didn''t do it often. She was... indulging me.


    "I''m more of a beloved pet than a worshipper.


    "I''m not sure what kind of price she''d demand assistance here.


    "And I''m not sure we can afford to start this all over."


    "For one who is newly converted, you do not seem to have much love for your god," noted Kalif.


    "Oh, I''m uh... I''m just new to her service, that''s all. I''m sure," said Taha quickly, and her words were one afraid.


    "When Kulat attacks, Rokas will be with the gate guards," said Kalif. "Nendas, you will act as a healer with the other priests of Jaha. We have plenty of men who can fight; healers are rare now."


    "I understand," said Nendas. He noted that Kalif had kept them apart so they couldn''t communicate. One duty had always drawn one off one way or another.


    At that moment, Taha stiffened. The winds howled around them.


    "...What is it?" asked Kalif.


    "They are moving," said Taha. "The armies of Kulat are coming toward the border now."


    "Well then, we must sound the evacuation," noted Kalif.


    And everyone became very busy, checking for any final vulnerabilities left unplugged. Archers manned the walls as the people in the surrounding lands were abandoned. He had long since prepared. They left with what goods they could carry, moving down the road and through the open gates. Fires were lit as they stormed in, and men directed them to seek shelter in the temples. Spears were handed out, and soon Nendas stood on the walls.


    A week, Kulat came forward in a great army, no doubt recently raised. Ranks upon ranks of spearmen stood ready while archers and horsemen marched at the front. Their plumes were flying high, and their armor was shining. Their banners were high above them, flowing green in the wind, and they made a fine spectacle.


    Then they stopped in surprise.


    No doubt they had come expecting a city tearing itself apart or built on shaky ground in the hands of a tyrant. As such, they did not seem to have anticipated finding a fortress. Especially one reinforced and guarded with torches lit against a gray sky. There were also many archers and spearmen looking down on them, ready for a fight.


    But the pause was only momentary, and soon they began to assemble for a siege. As they did, a herald rode forward in shining mail. "Hear me! I represent the King of Kulat, Chosen One of the Gods, and rightful steward of Tarasif!


    "King Samrasa was our friend and ally for many years. His death is a tragedy, and his usurpation and abomination! Now he stands on his rights to determine the succession! We demand the heads of those responsible for the death of King Samrasa, the surrender of Tarasif."


    "I am King Kalif of Tarasif, and you mistake me for a vassal," said Kalif. "Do not think that with Samrasa''s madness died all valor. We''ve defeated you once before. Now we stand with an advantage.


    "By what authority can you preside over our affairs?"


    "You would do well to have care," said the Herald. "King Kulat will not suffer from having his rights denied. He will determine who rules Tarasif as a concerned party."


    "This is absurd," said Kalif. "King Kulat was never Samrasa''s friend; you hated eachother for years. And you have been his vassal in all but name since your defeat. You sit on your throne at Tarasif''s pleasure, and you presume to dictate terms to us?


    "Go back to your own realm and take your due place. Do so, and I will be lenient." S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What due place is afforded you, murderer of your master?" asked the herald.


    "Not a death by your blade, and my master is the Gods," replied Kalif.


    "This being your answer, I shall bear your response to him. You shall soon receive our reply," said the herald. And he rode back.


    "Well, now we come to it, don''t we?" asked Kalif. "Do you think we''ll hold?"


    "Well, I don''t think they were expecting to find this place so well-defended," admitted Nendas. "Our preparations seem to have given them pause. Kulat has already suffered a defeat, and if we''re lucky, he may settle for a renegotiation."


    "Look there," said Taha, pointing outward.


    They did look outward.


    A messenger was now riding from the north toward the Kulatian armies. His pace was breakneck, and his horse was exhausted.


    "He''s run his horse ragged," said Kalif in distaste. Kalif liked horses.


    The messenger arrived and spoke with King Kulat. There was a brief discussion. And then the herald came back.


    "King Kalif, our truest friend and ally!" said the herald. "Ill tidings have come from the east! A host of savage Amazons, bearing the banner of Queen Tamar have come to assail us! We ask now that you honor our time-honored pacts and join us to defeat a common foe!"


    Kalif nodded and looked at the image of a noble and wise king. "Indeed, your people are as brothers unto mine! Together our swords shall be drawn to defeat a great evil! The Dark Goddess Tamar shall be brought to heel and destroyed!


    "Taha, Nendas, make sure nothing happens while I''m gone. I''m entrusting the city to you."


    And everyone started moving to plan to go save Kulat. The very people who had just been sieging them were now fleeing back. In mere seconds they had become steadfast allies against a terrible common foe. The Amazons of Spirtana and her allies were among the most brutal and vicious of enemies. It was said they preyed on their own population nearly as much as their enemies.


    It was a rite of passage for an Amazon of Spirtana to find a male of their own people and kill him slowly. So the thought that they had come was enough to unite both.


    "...What?" said Nendas.


    Rokas came up now, looking confused as soon the armies started altering their plans on the fly. "Have you ever heard the expression ''trust him like a brother?''"


    "Yes," said Nendas.


    "Your nation seems to have given the phrase a very different subtext," said Rokas.


    "So it would seem," said Nendas.


    "So, we are saved, it seems," said Rokas. "And the city is saved as well, not by our hand, but by the hand of another."


    "What now, Nendas?" asked Taha.


    Nendas shrugged. "I imagine I''ll continue as the Avatar of Jaha.


    "She is... possessive, but I owe her service. She isn''t perfect, but my family has served her for ages. And I will continue to serve her until she has no more need of me."


    "Fair enough," said Taha. "I figure I''ll stay with Tamar for the moment. I''ve got a debt to repay her, so it''s the least I can do. Rokas?"


    "I shall stand with you, so long as you have need of me," said Rokas.


    The words proved prophetic.


    And so things progressed without them.


    Nendas, Rokas, and Taha set about building up the city as best they could, and many people needed their help. The first step was a full-scale purge of those profiting from persecution. They had been locked in place by the siege preparations, and now Nendas took action. He captured them, tried them for their crimes, and ordered them hung, except those Jaha chose to pardon.


    There were few of the latter.


    Their money was seized and immediately distributed in penance. Of course, it wasn''t nearly enough, but it went a long way to easing tensions. It helped that most of them were among the most despised people in the city. Samrasa, in his later years, had attracted flatterers and sycophants. He had ceased to listen to good counsel. Many were wholly unqualified. And they had made obscene displays of wealth and abused their powers.


    Nendas then proceeded to strip Samrasa''s tomb bare of all ornaments, and it took quite a while. He used the precious metals to fund the purchase of weapons and supplies. That and also rebuilding things. This was a long-standing tradition among Tarasifian Kings to desecrate their predecessor''s tomb. One the Nendas took more pleasure than he ought to in reviving.


    Samrasa''s body was left for the wolves, and his tomb was turned into a Temple for Elranor. Though very few of that cult now remained, it was all the priests could do to keep it swept and in good repair. Eventually, it was dedicated as a place of healing. One where anyone who wished could come to be healed of wounds and sickness. And many priests often stayed around there to gain recognition as miracle workers.


    However, one tradition he did not revive was the destruction of the histories and records. Especially those written by the previous King. Nendas ensured all records and data were well recorded and commissioned new ones. All are based on accounts from many living people. Taha and Rokas were among them, though Nendas himself had to be pressured into it.


    The power was quite nice, but Nendas was kept very busy. Taha often used the winds to find faraway places, and soon they went out to repair many places. And they were sure to erect several statues of stone of Kalif in various places. All to make their loyalties clear. This had been Kalif''s request, and he''d insisted on it being stone.


    Many had wondered why, but Taha pointed out the obvious.


    "Stone itself isn''t all that valuable; only the statue is," said Taha. "If you melt down a statue of gold or silver, you have a lot of money. If you melt down a statue of stone, you get nothing but ruined artwork.


    "So Kalif''s statues are likely to fare better than Samrasa''s."


    "This seems a clear indicator of the value of humility," said Rokas. "For one who is humble, their legacy lasts far longer than one who is arrogant."


    "We''ll be dealing with Samrasa''s legacy for the rest of our lives," said Nendas to this, more than a little bitter. He could not help but feel it ought to be his statue up there, but such thoughts did not befit one of his stations. So he put them to one side as absurd.


    Months passed, and wars on the border were fought. Kulat and Tarasif fought a mighty battle with Spirtana. They were vicious warriors individually, and each one was worth ten men. And their slaves were in great numbers and were driven toward them to break the lines. Yet Kulat and Tarasif proved more than a match, and in the first battle, the Spirtana were repulsed.


    But they came again, several times in a different way. Stories came of women cloaked in mist, tearing the hearts of men and devouring them. Others spoke of giant wolves ripping people apart or the trees moving. Kulat became a land of horror, and more men were needed for the fighting.


    Yet Kalif won great glory for himself, leading men to battle. Vast stretches of the evil trees were hacked down, put into a bonfire, and torched before them. The wolves were baited into traps and cut to pieces. One of the border villages was left unguarded as a feint, and the Spirtana took it. They rushed into combat and found themselves caught in an ambush, and many were killed. Those that could not escape fled to a hill to make their last stand. Some killed themselves rather than be taken hostage by men.


    But King Kulat himself was ambushed while pursuing the remaining group. They killed him by torment. His mutilated corpse was a hunger for all to see, and the Spirtana Princess took his armor, Seracula. She launched many new raids, swift strikes that killed many, leaving behind plunder. And there was soon great hatred between her and Kalif, and it was said they once came within ten feet during a battle. But Seracula''s spear was deflected by his armor, and Kalif''s was broken by her sword.


    The dead taken by Seracula were defaced, their eyes carved out, and their bodies hung by the border. And those who braved it to try and reclaim the bodies of friends were often hung beside them. But Kalif did not return the gesture. He focused instead on winning battles and securing the border. And it seemed that this made the Spirtana Women hate him all the more.


    Such were the stories that Nendas, Tamar, and Rokas heard from Tarasif. However, they were far more busy keeping the kingdom together than worrying about it. It was a lengthy process and not at all dull; the pity was more. However, the knowledge that the army could win or lose by what they did here kept them motivated. And men soon worked all the harder to know there were stakes in victory or defeat.


    Now and then, bandits and several rebels from previously conquered states cropped up. But Nendas, Tamar, and Rokas could encircle them quickly with the blessings of the gods. And when these cities saw how great the numbers they had raised were, many surrendered. Those that did not, Nendas lay siege to and were captured.


    One among them was Avatal, the homeland of a notable Incarnation of the Land, Aais. For a long time, it had chafed under Tarasif, and now it sought to regain independence. But Taha and Rokas scaled the walls by stealth during the night. Their small force surprised the guards at the gate, killed them, and opened it wide.


    At the showing of a torch, Nendas led his men in, and they stormed the city. But Nendas ordered that none who threw down their weapons would be harmed. And no one was slain save the defenders. Beneath their onslaught, the city was taken within the hour. King Aais was taken prisoner and dragged back to Tarasif.


    Another time, the Northern peoples from the land of Viokinar came down in great ships. They sought to raid along rivers and lay waste to them. Word had come of their arrival from Dinis and farther away lands, which may have been why no war came from the west. But Taha saw their progress, and they stretched a great chain across the river to block them. As their vessels pulled to a halt, Rokas sailed a vessel piled with straw, wood, and pitch into their midsts. Setting it aflame, the whole fleet was burned to the water. As the Northerners fled onto the shore, they found the men of Tarasif waiting.


    It was a gruesome battle, for the minotaurs were huge, and their fur coats had heavy mail beneath them. They fought to the last but were divided, encircled, and destroyed.


    The Hasafa Clan proved themselves as strong as ever here. Sarafi herself proclaimed Nendas as the new Head of the Clan. Many men told Nendas to take up the crown and become King, but he dismissed it and told them not to ask again.


    The mood of dread and horror which had come to full flower during Samrasa dissipated. Many believed the Empire of Tarasif was doomed, but it did not come to pass. In a desperate scramble to save their land, the men managed to succeed and grow stronger. There was greater strength in the people than had been anticipated.


    When Kalif returned, Nendas presented him with his scepter and stepped away in relief. And Kalif bid him stand, hearing of his deeds and achievements. "You three are the noblest of all my warriors," said Kalif.


    And Nendas reflected it was more or less true.


    It was nice to finally get some recognition as such. He could have seized control in Kalif''s absence, but it would not have been a victory worth having. The pleasure of command had worn off and become exhausting. Nendas was not so much a fool as to believe he was entitled to the office.


    But the good news continued to flow.


    It soon turned out that Kalif had won and conquered several regions abroad. He brought the Kings within into Tarasif. One among them was the region of Tarsus from which Taha was descended. And soon, they were sent on missions to secure those regions and bring them into the fold. And Kulat and many other nations gave pledges of eternal friendship. Nobody believed they would last five minutes once they started losing. But that did not seem likely, for Dinis to the west was beset by another civil war.


    And the leader, having won, soon found himself pressed on the border by a King named Asim Sahshir. He likely would likely be fighting a lengthy war and pledged friendship with Tarasif. And Kalif, content with his victory thus far, turned his mind to administration: that and the proper ordering of the realm. Soon the borders were strengthened, and peace reigned more truly than ever before. Garrisons of well-trained troops were established, and as years passed. All three were hailed as heroes, though not so much in Kulat.


    Taha, for her part, often spoke of philosophy with many people and soon gathered disciples to her. And even as Tamar''s people were defeated abroad, a cult began to spring up in her old homeland and Tarasif. Nendas saw her speaking to them and preaching the word of Tamar mixed with her own. And they taught the same to the children they had together, and there were many of them, as many as fourteen.


    Fortunately, Taha''s cult was not as violent as the one in Spirtana. Kalif created a temple to Tamar in thanks for victory. That temple soon became a place where many gathered and spoke. And all the while, the land of Spirtana was forced to drawback, the losses becoming too great. Having failed in their conquests and gained little plunder for it. The Queen was soon beset by assassination attempts. She had killed several of her children. Slave revolts soon broke out, and their coffers were empty.


    And eventually, Taha was called in to mediate the dispute, marking the ascendance of her cult. Small wonder then that Tamar began to favor Tarasif more than Spirtana. Priests of Tarasif were soon known far more for their philosophy than brutality. So that soon, the original cult was almost a branch, and men spoke. Especially now, the true Tamar had been seen. And when Nendas finally wedded Taha, people began to say that Tarasif had stolen Tamar from her land as a bride.


    *There are no further records to draw on.


    I need coffee.

 Book 6: Road of Chaos

    And Gods of Samrasa is done. Time to stall by talking about the writing process for a bit so I can have a buffer chapter.


    This story is notable because it originally started out as fanfic for an existing series. However, while writing it, I became convinced that the characters were too different. The AU card could only cover so much, so I changed it to original work.


    Originally the story started out In medias res. It featured Nendas, Taha, and Rokas hunting worshippers of Elranor. However, I decided that it was far too unsympathetic a start for the protagonists. Thus, the story was scaled back to the very beginning.


    This put Gods of Samrasa in an interesting position as a foil to William''s story. Since William''s story was likewise meant to begin with William in his prime and powerful. Only to be scaled back to the present beginning.


    Both Nendas and William ended up becoming foils to one another, as I wrote. William is a disappointment who becomes what he believes he should be and is happier. Nendas is already a paragon at the start of the story. He is forced into a treacherous existence under Samrasa. Much of his arc is about Nendas trying to keep his soul, survive, and get his revenge for his Father''s murder.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    This convinced me to use the framing device I did. That being of Tanith translating the documents and William compiling them. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    However, there are actually two variations on this. The original version of Gods of Samrasa happens much later in the series.


    On Wattpad, William writes Gods of Samrasa almost nine books after canon. He does this of his own will in response to personal tragedies. While in Royalroad, Tanith bullies him into doing it for her.


    The decision to move back was largely out of a desire for good pacing. I felt Gods of Samrasa''s presence in the book series dragged down important events. In addition, I wanted to establish Nendas, Rokas, and Taha in the world''s backstory earlier. I''ve got plans for the three in the future, which will eventually play into things. Tarasif is in the far east and largely inaccessible from Harlenor.


    This brings me to the next installment I have planned.


    It will be called Road of Chaos and deal with the fallout of Tanith''s actions in Gel Carn. It will also elaborate a great deal on the geography and politics of Antion proper. Up until now, the Holy City of Antion has been referenced but never seen.


    We''ll also have an opportunity to meet quite a few influential people.


    See you next time.

 Book One: The Plague

    The holy city was collapsing from within.


    Princess Ansara strode through the well-maintained halls. It was placed largely empty with crumbling mortar. But the passing of many years since its construction could not take away the grandeur. The servants had only recently cleaned this area, setting up banners and such. It was a bitter irony that so much effort should go into hanging heraldry for her house. This meeting was hardly one that Ansara thought people would want to remember.


    She decided to take it as a sign the servants cared. At least more than her Mother.


    Her Father, Prince Bor Antion was a bulky man with orangish brown hair and a neat beard. His eyes were blue, and he looked tired in his fur cloak. "Ansara, what are you doing here? I told you I was having a meeting."


    Ansara stood firm beneath his doubting glance. It was a good question for him to ask. "I''m a disobedient child, Father. One day, I will be Queen of Antion, and I want to be Queen in my own right."


    "This is no laughing matter we are discussing here today," said Bor. "What happens here is of vital importance."


    "I want to see it for myself," said Ansara. "It concerns me."


    "...Very well, but you must speak to no one without my permission," said Bor.


    "As you wish," lied Ansara. "If I might ask, why are we meeting here?"


    "Father left it long ago and operated in a much smaller and easier-to-defend area," said Bor. "Though he deals mainly with foreign policy and negotiations.


    "He''s not as young as he once was, though."


    Coming to a door reinforced with iron, he fit in a key and opened it. Opening it, he motioned to his bodyguards, who entered. When they gave the all-clear, Bor went through, followed by Ansara.


    Within, Ansara saw two men and their guards sitting at a long rectangular table of strong but faded wood. The walls here were better made and repairs had been made in this room. You had an armoire on one wall, placed close to a chair. Duke Letan had taken that chair, which Ansara supposed the others appreciated. The Duke was clad in a blue military uniform, the sort used at knighting ceremonies. His clothes were military uniforms made in other worlds, with a high collar and dark fabric.


    His gaze fell over her, and Ansara faltered.


    "Ah, Your Highness, we were expecting you," said the other, and for a moment, Ansara thought he''d said it to her. But, of course, he was looking at Father, not her; she was merely behind him.


    The man himself looked very fine indeed. He was clad in a green button-down shirt with loose white sleeves and a dark cloak. He had short, dark hair and looked about forty. He smiled politely, and several warriors with short swords were behind him. A little ways off, Ansara saw a boy with a curved knife, and well...


    The boy was beautiful. He had spiky dark hair falling over one eye and smooth, unscarred features. Clad in a blue tunic, he sat near Arkan, who had bright blue eyes and tranquil features. His hands were clasped before him on the table, and he was clean-shaven and with a slender build.


    Was he a protege?


    And then there was Saul near Marn, looking analytical as always. Then was another; a little further down by the shadows, there was a giant of a man. He wore black armor as dark as a moonless night, and his eyes glowed with an evil yellow. His skin was dark, and on his back was a sword as large as he was tall.


    "I apologize, Arkan. We''ve had much work elsewhere," said Father, sitting down. "Duke Marn."


    "I stand ready to serve, of course," said Duke Marn.


    "And am I right in assuming this is your daughter, young Ansara?" asked Arkan, standing and kissing her hand.


    "I am," said Ansara, reminding herself she must appear weak. "Would you be Arkan, the leader of the Thieves Guild?"


    Arkan smiled somewhat begrudgingly. "Yes, a somewhat ceremonial position that is wholly real. Don''t mind Tavish or my son, Lamech; they are professional and merely here to observe." He did not mention the guards around them, waiting to spring into action. "In my company is Duke Letan Marn and the Lady Atravain, as well as the Lord Dunmore of the Paladin Order."


    Lamech was his son? Why was he wearing such evil attire? Especially since he had glowing yellow eyes and a sword nearly his size. Was Lamech making some statement?


    "Perhaps we should get to business," said Letan.


    And they sat down. But Ansara knew she must establish herself as credible and not merely a pretty face in over her head. "I would first like to know exactly why the royal family needs to work with a Thieves Guild?"


    "Ah, yes, the question no one dares to ask," laughed Arkan.


    "You may answer it, Arkan," said Bor. Lamech looked to Bor, and then Arkan and Ansara wondered why. Armored gauntlets were clasped together.


    "Yes, I''d like to hear his justification," said Marn, looking down the table to Dunmoore, who nodded. Dunmoore was of the Paladin Order and had at his side a long sword with the lion of the Paladin Order on it. But he said nothing.


    Neither did Lamech, as usual, simply observing everyone in the room.


    "It''s a somewhat sophisticated answer," said Arkan. "You see, crime is an inevitable part of every society."


    "But why do we need a Thieves Guild?" asked Ansara.


    "To regulate crime, of course," said Arkan.


    "Do we not have the city guard for that?" asked Ansara.


    "Well, the city guard has uses, of course," said Arkan, retreating under her gaze. "But they know nothing of how we operate. My organization knows everything there is to know about its operations. Ten years ago, many people died because isolated villages had to wait for a traveling healer. These days, though, every village in the heartlands has its outpost." Ansara knew this to be an exaggeration, but it couldn''t be denied there had been some effect.


    "And why could this not be done by the nobility?" asked Ansara. Lamech looked to the door as though expecting an attack.


    "Well, the law and the nobility are occupied with many important matters. From war in countries far away to selling goods in other regions," said Arkan, shifting. "And the law must work very, very, hard to lower crime even slightly. All we have to do is work less."


    "If we''re going to have crime, we might as well have organized crime," surmised Ansara.


    "Perhaps we should return to the subject of this meeting, Lord Bor," said Arkan.


    "Duke Marn, if you would," said Bor with a nod.


    "Gentlemen, I shall be honest; we''re about to face a major economic crisis," said Marn. "Numerous businesses are facing a full shutdown within Antion and outside of it. And many of the weapon merchants were already in serious trouble. If nothing is done, Antion could collapse."


    Ansara paused and considered how best to present herself. "I''ve walked Antion''s streets and seen no sign of this." Granted, she''d been well-armed with Arkan''s guards, which is more than most could say.


    "It hasn''t hit yet," said Letan. "Elsewhere, the Calishan Wars ended too early. Duke Vanion is quite a shrewd player."


    "I can back this up," said Tavish. "Vanion didn''t rise as quickly as he did by being lazy."


    Ansara had met the man; his ambition was beyond limitless. The moment he walked into the palace, he immediately started looking for opportunities. Vanion did excellent service. And when he did not receive the reward he wanted, he destroyed the people who got it instead. Argath Marn, Borinius, the nobility of Artarq, the satyr clans who opposed him, and even his allies.


    Each had been given something he believed was rightfully his. So, he engineered their downfall and took his rightful place. His record was terrifying and wonderful to read. He might have been the greatest thief who ever lived, but Vanion would never lower himself to be a thief.


    "We suspect," said Bor. "They may try to arrange a political marriage between their house and our own."


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    "Would they truly dare that?" asked Ansara.


    "He is a political adversary to me, as any of you know," said Marn.


    "Oh yeah, personal desires and emotions aren''t important," said Tavish. "We''re benevolent and well-intentioned masterminds interested in the common good of the realm." Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I note the disdain in your tone, Tavish," said Dunmoore. "I fear your pride has been wounded."


    "I''ll admit we''ve grown lax from fearing only the Paladin Order," said Dunmoore.


    "You insult me," said Dunmoore.


    "Dueling is illegal," said Lamech. "The fact that you are offended means nothing."


    "Lamech, Tavish, Dunmoore," said Father. "Do you have suggestions about what to do about William?" Let them think she is an enemy, and she could guess how they would act.


    "You could just send him an invitation into the order and then send William off to some far-off place," said Tavish. "That would instantly cut this entire movement down in the bud."


    "The Paladin Order is not a social club," said Dunmoore. "Membership is not granted solely for political convenience."


    Letan, Dunmoore, and Arkan had despised one another for years; that was obvious. Only now was it escalating, and they were losing sight of the true problem.


    "This is off the point," said Letan. "There are reports of families squatting in the lands west of Brisgald. I also have accounts that they have taken to freeing or murdering slaves. Others have turned to outright banditry. More than I would have liked."


    Ansara paused. "But where did these men come from?"


    "They are Harleorians, milady," said Marn. "Men who lost their lands because they went to war and had their lands bought while they were gone. My Uncle, Argath Marn, has often written to me. I believe Lady Atravain can explain the details."


    At that moment, Ansara became aware of Lady Atravain. She had been introduced before, but she had faded into the background. She was a tall, pale-skinned woman in the shadows. Her hair was white, and her face seemed frozen in place, pale and perfect in complexion. Yet also terrible, somehow. Her eldest daughter, Janice, was sitting to one side. "It is their fault.


    "My purpose as a noble is to ensure the prosperity of the domain as a whole, not cater to every lazy farmer. These men made foolish financial decisions and were forced to sell their farms. It is hardly my responsibility if they don''t want to do the work of raising crops.


    "The fields have to be grown by someone, and since they will not do it, we arrange for slaves to do it. They must pay the price for their economic missteps."


    "Isn''t that somewhat heartless?" asked Ansara, despite herself.


    "It may seem so on the surface, but I do not think you fully understand the situation," said Atravain. "Many of these men view humans as superior and all others weak and worthy of destruction. Yes, of course, people in Antion and people as a whole understand the truth. But some of these people are backward, and many are driven by hatred.


    "There is no good economic reason to go on crusade."


    "Very fine words to describe the entire population of Antion, milady," said Dunmoore. "I may take your words as a personal insult."


    "Of course, not all of them fit this description," said Atravain, looking at him with irritation. As if repeating something often said to others and annoyed her view was not shared. "I was merely speaking in very general terms."


    "All the same, shouldn''t we talk to them or do something about this?" asked Ansara, deciding she had to intervene. "We can''t just repay violence with violence."


    "Yes, well, myself and the other Lords have been hiring some of them," said Atravain. "We might have bolstered the border guard against Arraxia. Yet satyrs have stopped raiding, so even employed fighting men are of ill repute. If only Vanion hadn''t ended the war before it even began, this wouldn''t be a problem."


    "Because they''d have all died and never find out what you did to them?" asked Tavish. "I thought you opposed them going to war."


    "That is an insult," said Atravain.


    "I was suggesting that you pay the price for your own economic missteps," said Tavish.


    "Enough," said Bor. "Arkan, you will speak."


    "Yes, well, all of this culminated in a very dangerous situation," said Arkan. "These rebels, if you permit the word, have been whipped into a frenzy. Culminating in a letter from Reg Hawkthorne, given to me. Most of us have already read it. I have it here if you wish."


    Ansara took the letter. "Perhaps you could give me a summary."


    "As you wish," said Dunmoore. "He has effectively taken over the port of Ascorn on the northern shore, using an army of mercenaries. Baron Rius is alive but a prisoner, and he wants me to help him out. I have also been told that Babarassian mercenaries have been filtering in for some time. They are one of the major operatives of the slave trade. Reg claims to be acting on behalf of House Gabriel."


    "Isn''t House Hawkthorne an ally of House Gabriel?" asked Ansara, thinking of the Hawkthorne''s deplorable reputation.


    "Technically, yes," said Letan. "For all intents and purposes, no. Vanion''s brother Arthur did marry one of the Baron''s daughters, but the dowry was small. She made no contact with her family after leaving. Hawkthorne is little more than a subordinate House to House De Chevlon. And given that it is the vampire half of the De Chevlon''s, it is hardly even that."


    "...I don''t understand," admitted Ansara.


    "House De Chevlon has two houses," said Letan. "One, a living noble house that handles important affairs. And one in which every person within wants to become a vampire. And two, a clan of vampires that make all the real decisions. Some decades ago, there was a schism. The humans broke with the vampires, save for Saphra De Chevlon.


    "And the Baroness Saphra has been exchanging letters with Raynald De Chevlon."


    "Raynald is Vanion''s chief lieutenant, yes?" asked Ansara.


    "Indeed," said Bor. "The two have had a long association. Once, Raynald was the leader. But Vanion has since surpassed him."


    "So this was done by House Gabriel?" asked Ansara, deciding to get to the point.


    "Probably not," said Arkan, shaking his head. "This move is far too sloppy to ever be done by Vanion. We are already handling it and we expect things should return to normal."


    "The problem is that the slave trade has been completely shut down in the meantime," said Atravain. "The Baroness De Chevlon has bought up every single slave she could find on the market. Then they shipped them all off to Castle Blackfear. And Sorn buys most of the slaves in the Sea of Power market.


    "Slaves die on the job, and they rarely reproduce. And there are reports of plagues spreading among them. Abolitionists have even freed some."


    "What is the source of this plague?" asked Ansara. She had no power here, and she had to remember it. All she could hope was that Father would realize she wasn''t as stupid as she had pretended to be.


    They haven''t spent much time together recently.


    "Plagues happen now and then," said Atravain. "It will pass in time, and we have more healers to deal with it than ever before. The problem is the timing.


    "Without manpower, there will be no crops. The city of Antion could starve if a solution is not found. Some crops are already ripening, and there aren''t people to harvest them. I have been hiring hands, but it is expensive.


    "My finances are limited.


    "If people start starving, the Kingdom will collapse. It is as simple as that."


    "I already have one if it is to be allowed," said Arkan.


    "And what is that?" asked Bor, surprised.


    "For some time now, I have been communicating with King Gavin of Haldren''s go-between," said Arkan. "Since malas production has become more efficient than ever, we should humor him. If malas do not have a legitimate buyer, someone will find an illegitimate one."


    "How does this help us?" asked Ansara.


    "Haldren has many problems of its own," said Arkan. "Among them are the Furbearers, as they are called. They subsist upon raw fish and once worshiped the Withering. Many battles were fought with them to drive them out.


    "Now, however, they are limited to the western shore and the Islands of Torment."


    "I have had to civilize some of the creatures on my plantations," said Atravain. "They are illiterate, subsist on raw meat, and hardly better than satyrs. However, they share their ability to survive the conditions. Harlenorian slaves are less suited to the task.


    "They could make ideal workers for the plantations."


    "Yes," said Arkan. "Lord Rius has arranged for the Babarassians to establish colonies. They are situated on the Islands of Torment and are trading ports. Traders to dock and sell wares without restrictive fees.


    "It provides opportunities for commerce that aren''t usually available. Several such operations are also held on the shores."


    "But why would we allow the Babarassians to do so? Is that entirely safe?" asked Ansara.


    "Perhaps not, but every action has risks, even the act of doing nothing," said Arkan. "Apparently, they believe it is worth the risk."


    Ansara hadn''t read the official records, but there was no time for it now.


    "At any rate, King Gavin has agreed to provide shipments of slaves taken from the Furbearers. He''ll send them to the domain of Baron Rius," said Arkan. "In exchange, he requires shipments of malas, all to perform certain necessary rituals."


    "But all this talk of slavery, is it really right? Couldn''t we just hire more hands?" asked Ansara.


    "Can we hire hands from a population that will not work?" asked Atravain, looking angry.


    Lady Atravain had good reason to hate the common people. Ansara had read stories of the horrors her lands had endured. Criminals and demon cults had taken root. Once a proper young lady, she''d nearly been savaged several times. No one had given her position of authority even the slightest bit of respect. Borinius had been of little use.


    That was when Raynald, Kafka, Vanion, Arthur, and all the others came to her aid. Even then, they still rebelled against her. And her solution, in the end, was simple;


    Turn Kafka loose.


    That was probably why Tavish hated her.


    Ansara had to admit she was finding this a bit hard to follow, but she kept listening.


    "Hiring more workers would be expensive," said Atravain. "And that is assuming that they don''t plant spies for bandits. King Andoa abolished the militia system, which was the best thing he had ever done. But we ought to have disarmed them entirely; then we could have simply dictated what needed to be done."


    "Enlisting the services of additional laborers is not practical," said Letan. "And they are liable to be bitter if, having lost their farms, they are hired back as despised servants.


    "In the long term, I am an abolitionist. Unfortunately, if slavery were abolished tomorrow, Antion would starve. A new source of slaves must be found in this year''s harvest to come in."


    "There may be a means by which it can be made easier," noted Arkan. "I have been establishing settlements for some time that cater to off-the-books outposts. In them, I find men work as caravan guards and enforcers. I am certain I can arrange for them to be put to work.


    "Perhaps in hunting the satyr clans gathering on the knees of the Black Mountain."


    "I have not heard of this," said Bor.


    "They have been doing so mostly within the bounds of the Black Mountain," said Arkan. "So far as we can tell, many of them are escaped slaves. Others have come from the Black Marshes of Gel Carn or Seathorius. And there were always settlements of them on the bounds of Blackfear.


    "Over the past few years, their numbers have swelled. I believe we could establish fortifications on the border with them. Using these, we could hem them in. We could prevent any sudden onslaughts, as well as arrange trade opportunities."


    "What kind of trade opportunities?" asked Ansara.


    "Well, satyrs have always had a great love of alcohol," said Arkan. "I expect there will be a serious market there. That will help keep them complacent. All the thuggish fighting men will be kept occupied while we operate freely.


    "By the time events die down, we should have the situation fully in hand."


    "Why would Neral Dinis turn a blind eye to it?" asked Ansara, shuddering at the memory of the vampire lord.


    "Well, he is a vampire," said Arkan


    "For now..." said Ansara. "Are we all agreed?"


    Everyone looked at one another.


    "We are," said Bor.


    Ansara was not looking forward to what came next.

 Chapter One: The Mission

    House Gabriel had been very busy with the consequences of profit.


    Lands were distributed to victorious soldiers in place of plunder. Many of the new colonies in Khasmir would require a garrison.Meanwhile, the Calishans and Harlenorians were still hunting the remaining demons.


    William Gabriel had not been idle.


    And now he was home.


    The palace of Arsheen was beautiful. A place of white walls, meticulously clean and flowing fountains. The air was cool, even in the blazing sun that had become all too common of late. They stood upon a great plateau at the center of the city. The steps of the tower where his father had set his office winded upwards in a spiral. Father had been here a great deal of late, with Mother off at the border. Servants said that he often stayed within this high tower for hours, and whispers had been heard.


    Often, he would come back to town to spend time with Soren and Calgora and drink bread and water. Then, he would return like a man to battle and say nothing of what he saw. Yet, often, servants thought he was fighting some private battle. There, he pitted his will against an enemy unseen.


    As he came to the door, William thought this utter nonsense. So he knocked and then opened the door.


    Duke Vanion was sitting at his desk, hands hovering over a crystal ball. The walls were filled with books on shelves. Each one had been read a hundred times on subjects from magic to war. The Duke''s dark hair and clean-shaven features fell around his shoulders. His blue cloak concealed all but his hands, and he had black gloves on them. William wondered where he had gotten that orb of crystal.


    The others created by Rusara were mere copies.


    "Where did you get that crystal ball?" asked William. "If you don''t mind me asking?"


    "Oh, during my adventures in Themious," said Vanion. "A prize won in Spirtana, I think. It was all long ago. It might have been somewhere; I have the record somewhere."


    "I''ve been looking through our recent finances. House Gabriel has become unassailably wealthy through our rule of Artarq. And we are becoming richer still. Malas provides a steady profit. But our strong position in Ran Telus and Artarq has ensured we control major trade lanes. All the new trade between Calisha and Harlenor is going through us. And we have more money than we know what to do with. It''s become something of a problem."


    "What do you mean?" asked William. "Surely we need the money."


    "Wealth is like food, William," said Father. "Once you have a certain amount, you don''t need anymore."


    "What of the temple to Kiyora and Typhos?" asked William. "That''s immensely expensive."


    "Well, it was a repair and renovation job," admitted Vanion. "Though splendidly done by the architects Vensus and Brinsiege. But, we''ve made back virtually all we spent on it by pilgrims. I have given out much of our profits to the fighting men as prizes for Khasmir. That''s done a great deal. It has helped out colonization. But it is only a stopgap measure."


    "Surely having an added supply of finance is a good thing," said William.


    "Untapped success is a problem, William," said Vanion. "When you become powerful, it attracts attention. If you do not make the best use of that power, you will be destroyed. I''ve heard whispers of ill contentment and jealousy against House Gabriel."


    "So what will we do?" asked William.


    "For now?" asked Vanion. "I plan to institute a new welfare system, one intended to help the needy. People don''t usually become criminals without a motive."


    "Uncle Arthur says there such a thing as malice and revenge, Father," said William.


    "Certainly there is," said Father. "I am pleased you remember. But malice and revenge make poor motivations."


    "I''m not sure that''s true, Father," said Willliam.


    "Good," laughed Vanion. "You ought to have some different opinions from myself. Speaking of which, I need you to seek a meeting with Adrian Wrynncurth in Gel Carn. Tanith was unwise in her behavior there, making us some powerful enemies."


    William remembered tales of the fiasco. Tanith had, according to some reports, nearly started a war. However, others had argued that the war had already started. By that line of argument, Tanith only forced Benarus into action. She''d not spoken of strange events in Antion, save mentioning killing many bandits. Tanith had a military mind, after all. "Why am I being chosen?"


    "Because you are capable, and you have not had anything to occupy yourself," said Vanion with a wry smile. "I think you could use another opportunity to prove yourself."


    "Ah, of course," said William. "And traveling to heal every village in Artarq does not count?"


    "Not now that the main pandemics have been blunted," said Vanion. "You''ve run the circuit several times by now. And I''m arranging for other healers to take your place.


    "I doubt they shall have a difficult time. Rusara assures me your powers of healing are truly immense. It also lets you speak to people and get a sense of what is going on. And you can figure out what is going on for yourself. Raynald and Rusara have something they would also talk to you about."


    William considered things. "I''ll take Felix and Massacre with me, then. They should be more than enough. I wish I could take Tanith, but she wouldn''t be welcome."


    "She might be able to go with you to Ascorn," noted Vanion. "And Rusara should make arrangements. Your Mother and I, however, will not be able to see you off. I''m afraid that I have to leave almost at once. I have to mediate some disputes between one of our appointed Lords and one of his neighbors.


    "Sarris has taken offense to certain actions by his neighbor, Dufray, and there was a skirmish. Several men were killed, and if unchecked, this could lead to a flare-up. Some among the former nobility are convinced I''m trying to supplant them."


    "But you are, aren''t you?" asked William.


    Vanion shrugged. "Not exactly.


    "If they are loyal, I take no action against them and accept them as loyal subjects. If they betray me, I sideline them and replace them with someone loyal and competent. Then, I provide them a means of their family to get things back. Those who I have stripped of their lands have only themselves to blame.


    "A society can only be orderly when everyone has a stake in the system. If even one group is left out, they will eventually become alienated enough to burn it down. Oh, one more thing." Vanion drew out some letters. "Take these to our relatives in Brisgald. The one with the red string should be given only to your Uncle Arthur or someone to hold it for him. The others should be given to Auga and Vorn preferably, or Arthur if you can''t get them."


    "Can I have more information?" asked William.


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    "I''m afraid not," said Vanion. "You see, there are certain plans we are interacting with. And Melchious could be part of them. I''d tell him how I intended to foil him if he was. Things have been set to put you in the right place at the right time. Hopefully. But be prepared to improvise; nothing ever goes fully as planned."


    "Right," said William, smiling.


    Vanion put the letters into a case and handed them to William. William smiled at the responsibility and nodded. Then he went out and down the steps, feeling happier than he had in a long time. Father had trusted him with something, a duty of apparent great import.


    Of course, he wasn''t telling him everything, but it made sense. Father was telling him what he needed to know, and he had faith he''d be able to do what needed to be done. It showed that William was considered a genuine asset now.


    He hardly noticed the tower''s steps as he walked through the halls. As he did, he noticed Tanith staring at a tapestry. It showed a faraway land Mother had identified as Themious, her homeland. There were many figures, dryads dancing, and warriors fighting; all save one were women.


    A little further down, there was another one with the Goddesses of Themious on it. Above them was Zeya with a lightning bolt in hand in the center. White robes rippled around her form, as did her hair. Then there was a golden-haired woman in green and white with a harp, Isriath, Goddess of Music, to her right. To her left was a long-haired pink-haired goddess wielding a scythe. That Imogen, Goddess of Thievery and Healing {She''d stolen the power from Elranor.}. And to her left was the figure of Tamar, wielding her fans to conjure up winds. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And opposite Tamar was a dancing figure clad in revealing red-wielding fans. Yet these were throwing flames, and the Goddess drank from a gourd. Her long brown hair was tied up in a ponytail and flowing around her. And at the bottom of the picture was the Shark Queen, the proxy Goddess of Death. She had blonde hair and tan skin yet was half-bestial.


    At the center of them was a dark-haired woman clad in red and gold armor with bared legs and arms. She was hovering as though sleeping. William remembered she was called Themousia, Goddess of Truth.


    If memory served, she had beaten Mother to the position.


    Tanith''s blonde hair had gotten longer, and her face looked odd. She didn''t look like herself; her smile was a different kind of confidence. And a hand was hovering over the image of Tamar.


    "Admiring the artwork?" asked William.


    Tanith shook awake as if from a trance, the movement causing her bosom to rise and fall appealingly. "Yes. I''m not sure who made this, is all. It''s very accurate."


    "Isriath, Goddess of Arts and Music," said William. "She presented this as a gift to Mother after Calgora was born. And Soren was given the other as a gift. They were hand-weaved by her."


    "I don''t remember them weaving anything for you," noted Tanith.


    "She didn''t," said William sourly.


    "Oh right," said Tanith. "Well, that would explain why they got the image so wrong. I met Maius and Isriath on my journey. We got on pretty well when I ran into them in Calisha. They seemed to have heard of me."


    "They heard of you?" asked William, feeling slightly insulted.


    "Well, I am the better swordfighter," noted Tanith.


    "That''s not the point," said William. "I am the son of Princess Azgora, one of the heroes of Themious. They thought it worth giving gifts to Soren and Calgora when they were born. So Mother can''t have exaggerated that much.


    "You, Tanith, are of lower rank than me on both counts. So why am I being stepped over?"


    "Well, you were kind of weak-willed back then," said Tanith.


    "But that''s how Themiousian men are expected to behave," said William. "And anyway, they could hardly tell what my life would be like before it happened."


    "Well, apparently, Maius loved my work anyway," said Tanith.


    "In Calisha?" asked William.


    "Yeah, Maius has been shut out there for ages," said Tanith. "Baltoth hates revelry, and it keeps her from being able to act. Though Isriath does some business there."


    William remembered some of Tanith''s war stories. "Which work did Isriath love, exactly?"


    Tanith shrugged and smiled. "I did a lot of work, but we were otherwise distracted.


    "I hear Isriath''s been working with the Sorcerer''s Guild. Helping them with spellwork and such. Artwork and spellwork have some things in common. Anyway, Rusara and Raynald want to talk to you."


    "I know," said William.


    Parting ways with Tanith, William felt a little annoyed at what he''d learned. He put it at the back of his mind as he made his way into the training hall. In the hall, he found Raynald and Rusara instructing recruits.


    Quickly, Raynald looked up and a smile came to his scarred face. And then they explained things.


    "A Tournament of Kings?" asked William.


    "Well, not of Kings," said Rusara. "There are not enough Kings in Harlenor to complete an entire tournament. But representatives of the Kings will be there. We think it would be best to have someone represent Artarq."


    "Why not Tanith? She''s the better swordsman and knows the way," noted William.


    "I can''t send Tanith, William," said Raynald. "It''s in Gel Carn.


    "She crossed Adrian Wrynncurth, and he is in control of the finances for the entire region. And when he sent two dragons after her, she killed both. Sending her back there is a bad idea. I''d go myself, but Vanion needs me here as a commander. So the only person I have left who can represent us is you. Anyone else would hardly be noticed at all."


    "I see," said William. "Well, I was being sent that way anyway."


    "We know," said Rusara. "We''re all plotting to manipulate you as part of an elaborate revenge scheme."


    William laughed. "Well, obviously, and I permit you your dreams.


    "But Raynald, I do not know that land at all. I''ve read about Brisgald and Varsus living there with the rest of our family. But south, I know virtually nothing."


    "You don''t have to worry," said Rusara. "I''ve arranged for a guide for you, a Druid of Laevian named Jehair."


    "Is she any good?" asked William.


    "You don''t imagine I''d put your life in the hands of an incompetent, William?" asked Rusara.


    "No, I suppose not," said William. "I''ll take Felix and Massacre with me, then. They should be more than sufficient as guards for my purposes. And my armor and weapons, of course."


    "Then you''d best become prepared soon. It would be wise to head out as soon as possible," said Raynald. "Jehair will probably get there ahead of you. She is a high-elven woman with long blonde hair and an overbearing personality. Here is a picture of her; don''t lose it." And he drew up a portrait, one that was very well made. "Don''t worry, she always keeps her word."


    It showed a beautiful elven women with long ears and braids. She had smoldering eyes even through the picture, clad in leather. Her expression was resolved but sad, and her arms were bare with her blonde hair combed back. She had a slim waist and was very buxom. Her hips were wide.


    "There is one other thing," said Rusara. "William, I was wondering if you could do me a favor while you are there?"


    William paused. "Of course."


    "You remember the Fists of Baltoth?" asked Rusara.


    "The malas smuggling gang Father''s men wiped out?" asked William.


    "Well, we believe they had a lot of contacts in Antion," said Raynald. "They and many other gangs, though they wouldn''t be using the same name. And judging from some letters, we confiscated from their operation. There are some very extensive operations. The criminal element in Antion was a problem before.


    "But it seems to be growing far worse. Frankly, it''s been worse for years, and no one is reporting on it. If you could keep an eye out for any information while journeying, I''m sure it would help."


    "Thank you," said William.


    "Oh," said Raynald. "One last thing. We''ve heard that the Heir of Kings has arisen and proclaimed herself."


    William halted. "Herself?"


    "Her name is Relma Artorious," said Rusara. "Arengeth had her raised to be the Mother of the King, but she seems to have ambitions of her own. We''d like you to take her measure when you arrive and tell us what she''s like. It could be very important."


    "Oh, come now, Lady Rusara," said William. "No one is going to bow to someone just because of their bloodlines, no matter how noble."


    "I certainly hope not," said Rusara. "But she could be more dangerous than we think. That''s why we''re sending you. Jehair should be at the port of Ascus on the northern part of Antion. You''ll find her at the Grip of Steel Inn, in the company of Amenos. Do you remember him?"


    "Yes, he was your lieutenant in the Khasmir campaign, taller than most Dust Elves," said William.


    "Good," said Rusara. "Look for him, and you''ll find Jehair nearby. Though he will not accompany you all the way, he''ll break off for other business."


    William walked out, wondering what the point of all this was.


    He decided that Rusara and Raynald were pretending to operate by a different plan. Father would know of such an action so they would not be so foolish. But if Melchious saw the two different scenes, it might confuse him.


    Either way, Felix was waiting outside in the shadows, arms crossed. He was dressed for travel in black, as was his custom. "So, what news?"


    "We''re going to Antion, Felix. Raynald needs us to fill in for Tanith in the Tournament of Kings," said William. "Someone called Relma Artorious is proclaiming herself to be Anoa''s heir."


    "So the Heir of King''s has arisen, then?" said Felix, voice strange.


    "I wish," laughed William, walking past. "We''re probably just going to see a noble with delusions of grandeur."


    "No, we have a problem," said Felix as he fell in. "You can count on it."


    Finding Massacre the chimera around the corner, William saw her sleeping. As usual, only her goat head was awake. Yet, as usual, she knew more than she let on.


    "Massacre, I''ll need you with me," said William. "I don''t have the Goldenwood Harp, but I''d play for you as best I can."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Let''s make our plans, then," said William. "And hope for an uneventful trip."


    But he wouldn''t get one, and everyone knew it. Trips were never uneventful for William Gabriel.

 Chapter Two: The High Seas

    Tanith Telus was in the best of moods.


    Few things had ever enchanted her like sailing for adventure in the roaring waves. She looked out over the chilly blue of the Haldrenian Channel with her hair flowing before her. The smell of sea salt was heavenly, and the light was clear from above. If they went only a little further down, you could see her home of Ran Telus. However, she''d grown up more as a ward in the realm of Carn Gable.


    Hadn''t William swum this once? Or half of it?


    "Ah, the sea air is high, and we''re out," said Tanith. "Now, the only thing that could be better is if we were going to raid Calishan shipping. Aris and I did much of that before we got serious."


    "Yes, well, I can''t have worse luck than the last voyage," muttered William, who hated sea travel.


    "Don''t tempt fate, William. Rioletta likes causing pain when people ask for it," said Felix to one side.


    "If fate is tempted, I''ll beat it to a pulp," said Tanith.


    "I''m just glad to be going to Antion," said William, standing up and smiling.


    "Why?" asked Tanith, perplexed. She''d hated the place when she went through it. The bounty hunters trying to kill her was an improvement. And why was he looking so cheerful? It wasn''t a bad look, to be fair.


    "It''s the greatest of the Harlenorian Kingdom''s Tanith," said William. "It has technologies and finery like nothing else. The population is far higher than Haldren or Escor. It produces most food shipped across the Sea of Power and the Haldrenian straights.


    "They say the Capital of Antion is veiled in a golden light," He seemed enthusiastic and happy.


    This was a poor change. Tanith didn''t have the heart in the old days, but now he was backsliding into the insecure, happy person he used to be.


    "Well, aren''t you acting like the old you?" asked Tanith, getting him a headlock. "Knock it off. I like you better than you are now. Not like Anborn."


    "What did he do this time?" asked William. "Did he get another red-haired girlfriend to take care of him?"


    "He ran from a battle," said Tanith.


    "What?!" said William. "He was alone, wasn''t he?"


    "No, he wasn''t," said Tanith. "He''d made friends with a group of adventurers. One of his girlfriends was there too. They got cornered by bandits, and he ran off.


    "He came back later to save them when they were tied up.


    "Later, he allowed himself to be captured and seduced by the bandit leader. While leaving his friends to fight a life or death battle."


    Disgraceful.


    But William didn''t want to say anything; Tanith could tell. Anborn had a long list of stupid and cowardly actions which he had been spared trouble from.


    Yes, William had run away in his first battle after a fashion. But he''d done that to save a fellow warrior and friend from the sea. Also, it only happened once. Anborn always pulled this kind of thing in one way or another.


    "I''ve always wanted to go to Antion and meet King Andoa," said William, breaking it. "To be knighted by him would be a huge honor." Andoa was famous the world over and at one time had been considered comparable to Anoa the Bright. However, William and Tanith both thought of this exaggeration for obvious reasons.


    One did not simply compare to Anoa the Bright. All were forever in his shadow.


    Tanith considered telling him a bit about reality. But he''d read all the same books she had, so he probably knew. Let him enjoy the dream. For her part, Tanith never wanted to go further into Antion than the ports.


    "Babarassians, port side!" called a man.


    Tanith looked up, and sure enough, the Babarassian vessel was before them, with a prow in the shape of a mouse. Even now, they were heading toward them, and the men onboard were brandishing weapons. They wore long beards and concealing garments and had a vicious look.


    "Maybe they''re friendly and simply want to negotiate," said William.


    "Not likely," said Tanith. "Now we get to spill some blood."


    "So it would seem," said Felix.


    It seemed they were in for a splendid time.


    Tanith ran to quickly put on her armor, getting help from Felix in it. It was well-polished, and she thought she''d have to clean it afterward. Drawing her two swords, she smiled as she returned to the deck. William stayed behind her, a shield and sword in hand.


    He was no coward, but in Khasmir, he''d played the role of healer, which was wise. This crew didn''t look battle-hardened. Turning up, Tanith saw the ship nearing them and pulling up. A long silence stretched as she waited for the fun. The gangplank was thrown down, and the Babarassians rushed over the deck toward them.


    Tanith rushed toward them, disarmed a man, cut his throat, slashed out the eyes of another, and ran a third through. The men rushed behind her into battle, weapons drawn as battle was joined. Tanith smiled, feeling the warm blood pour over her body as she ended their lives.


    William was healing their injured as the battle went on. Wounded men were rising again.


    Tossing her swords into the air, Tanith drew knives and hurled them, and each one found a mark. The last man fell in shock, whimpering in horror as Tanith caught the swords. She lunged forward and stabbed them through his palms.


    Grabbing her head, she wrenched it to snap his neck.


    Was he begging for mercy?


    It didn''t matter.


    She''d heard it all before. Filthy dark-skinned invaders needed to have their numbers culled anyway.


    "I can''t say that wasn''t efficient," said William.


    "Sorry," said Tanith. "I''ll leave some for you next time. We lose anyone?"


    "No," said William. "A few injured and healed. We''d better see what is down here."


    "Why did they attack us?" asked Felix.


    "Who knows?" asked Tanith, not caring. "Let''s loot the place."


    William nodded, and they began the search of the ship.


    As they did, they found it contained people, many of them stored in the lower decks. They were herded into cramped quarters filled with filth and straw, and the smell was awful. A few had been set aside in more humane quarters, meaning they had about a foot each. Tanith walked through the stinking place and saw the people trapped.


    They looked to Tanith with obvious fear, which was probably the smart move. William looked around, seeing their dark skin and brownish hair. "Are these Furbearers, Tanith?"


    "Yeah, more or less," said Tanith. "What do you want to be done with them? We could sell them?"


    "No," said William. "Release them at once, and I''ll heal them. I need to know what Furbearers are doing here. They are under the protection of King Gavin and Haldren."


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    "It could be a raid," noted Tanith as she slashed a lock. Nakmar''s swords were awesome.


    "No," said Felix. "Babarassians might decide to attack a lone ship, but a direct attack on Haldren would never be made. Not without a larger campaign, and we''d have heard of that.


    "It may be possible these were sent after us in particular. You and William are valuable targets with a fair share of enemies."


    "Either way," said William. "We''ll get them out on deck. Once there, we will talk to them. Lead them up, and I''ll heal the sick and injured."


    And so it went, a boring and unmemorable event as the slaves were led up onto the deck. Tanith quickly arranged for the bodies to be stripped of their clothes and weapons. That and many other valuables. These were given to the crew.


    Food was given to the slaves, which Tanith thought was a bit far away. But it seemed to get them less afraid and more receptive. Finally, William spoke to them in their tongue, using the power of language. "Does anyone speak for you?" Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A girl came forward, dark-skinned with brown hair that was tangled. Her clothes were blue, and she had a very nice rack. Not to mention a good curve of the hips, and didn''t look like she was done growing. Tanith wondered if William would mind her taking her as a slave.


    Probably, he was a bit nice for his own good. "I am Kata of the Islands of Torment that lie east of Haldren. And the daughter of our leader, Osrif.


    "We were sold to these men by the King."


    "Which King?" asked William.


    "Lord Kern of Haldren, who else?" said Kata, speaking Haldrenian. "He claimed authority over us because his Father killed a lot of our people. But he has never even come down near us except to exact tribute. Things got very bad the last few winters, and we couldn''t pay the tribute.


    "Now he has sold us to the Babarassians to pay off the debt, and I was among them as an example. One day, the Incarnation of the Land will return to set this right, and you''ll be sorry for what you did! To my people and my Mother!"


    "You should have been ready to fight if you didn''t want to get enslaved," scoffed Tanith.


    Bad luck.


    "And what are we supposed to do against an entire ship of armed Babarassians?" asked Kata. "Many of our men are on a trading voyage, and we were caught before we reached our safe locations."


    "You could die well," replied Tanith. "Or at least commit suicide before they captured you to deny them profits."


    "Given that we rescued them, that might not have been a good idea," noted Felix.


    "That''s not the point," said Tanith. "It''s a matter of principle. Of honor and warrior code."


    "Do you know why these men would attack us?" asked William.


    "Some of us heard them talking about a contract," said Kata. "They were alerted to you by someone and directed to intercept you. They were asked to seize him as a bargaining chip."


    "Well, that would be me," noted William. "Felix, why would you say they''d do that?"


    "Well, we made no secret of our departure," said Felix. "Given that Tanith''s actions have put a rift between Wrynncurth and us, it would make sense. I''m sure many enemies of House Gabriel would love to disrupt that.


    "And if the Babarrasians took you prisoner, there would be an element of deniability. King Gavin could come to your rescue and put you in his debt or keep you as a hostage. And selling Tanith to Wrynncurth would be a valuable bargaining chip. But other people could be behind this."


    "Should we really be having this kind of meeting in public?" asked Tanith.


    "What is wrong with having the treachery of my enemies be well-documented?" asked William. "Kata, next question. How much do you know about the Babarassians and their slaving operations?"


    "Well," said Kata. "They have a contact, Omar, who set it up. He and another man in armor like Lamech. They came to us, and we offered them hospitality, and they asked many questions of us.


    "Then Omar went east, toward Themious and Babarassia. Tavish came through and was very nice and polite. They said only that his business arrangements had gone off well. Then the Babarassians arrived, and we let them establish a small port. Then, they set up outposts in each village.


    "But pretty soon, armed men filled the area, and they started taking things over. Our Village Healers were forced out of their homes and enslaved. And then they started taking us. Father tried to rally the men and fight them off, but there were too many. I was seized and sold into slavery as punishment by Tavish."


    "You mean to tell me that you let them in?" asked Tanith, blinking in surprise. "You should have started planning to fight them when Gavin gave the order."


    "We''re a peaceful people!" said Kata.


    "Then you''re insane," said Felix without aggression. "Living in peace is only possible by deterring your enemies. That requires either an ironclad defense or an aggressive striking power. Preferably both."


    Kata stepped back from the bars for a minute, only just seeing him.


    "Tanith, Felix, this is not the time," said William, not liking how they dismissed these people. "Kata, can your people sail?"


    "Yes, but not usually with a ship this large," said Kata. "We use more maneuverable craft."


    "Very well," said William. "Tanith, could you run a crew to Ascorn?"


    "Sure," said Tanith. "Seeing as you and Felix have some experience.


    "Best time to learn."


    And they set to work at once, breaking off from the ship they''d come. It turned out that the Furbearers were quite quick learners, faster than William or Felix. Tanith had to give them the differences, and they quickly adapted. William, meanwhile, opted to navigate a bit.


    Once Kata had a chance to clean up, she was very nice. Her braided hair made her look nice. And Tanith decided to approach her. "So, these Babarassians, by what authority could they take you? Surely you are citizens of Haldren."


    "Technically, we are serfs," said Kata. "Though Father and my family have noble status.


    "We handle all our affairs and do everything for ourselves. Once, our people had huge fortresses. But you all sacked or burned them, and we''ve had to deal with raids. One of you pirates killed my Mother!"


    "That''s sad," said Tanith.


    "Sad?" shouted Kata. "That''s all you have to say."


    "You fought a war, and you lost. It happens to everyone," said Tanith, thinking back to her Mother''s disfigurement. "No shame on you; at least you fought."


    "What about my Mother?" asked Kata.


    "Everybody dies eventually. And most people die horribly," said Tanith with a shrug. "At least she got killed in battle. Better than wasting away from old age or a skin disease.


    "Bad things happen to good people, and life isn''t fair. You can feel sorry for yourself and revel in being a victim. Or you can get back on your feet and ensure you kill all the raiders the next time. Then you can steal their ships, burn their villages, and rape and murder their women.


    "Crying never helped anybody. But ending other people''s lives can help you a lot."


    Kata stared at Tanith. "...Are you the Shark Queen?"


    "What?" said Tanith. "What are you talking about?"


    "My people have shrines to ward off the Shark Queen," said Kata. "I thought... you seem to like what a Queen of Death would look like."


    Tanith laughed. "The Shark Queen is the proxy Goddess of Elranor and focuses on death as an aspect. When you see her, it usually means that someone will die or otherwise disaster will fall on you."


    "So, what''s the difference?" asked Kata.


    "Doom is a bad thing that can or will happen to you and an unrelenting force you fight against," said Tanith. "But you can master it. See William over there? A year ago, he got shipwrecked with nothing but Felix. They were captured by satyrs, tossed in prison, and brutalized.


    "But they escaped and made their way on foot. They made companions, had many adventures, and escaped from them. Doom came upon them, but they passed beyond it and grew stronger. If something bad happens, you should fight like hell against it. If you fail, you should accept the defeat and become stronger.


    "Both are responses worthy of praise, depending on the situation. But you have to fight first. Ward off doom, and you delay the inevitable at the expense of weakening yourself. For my part, I say never submit. Never stop fighting.


    "Let the enemy take your land from you in an ocean of their blood. And let new tides wash away that ocean.


    "If bad things happen to you, don''t think ''why me.'' Think, ''To overcome this is to achieve greatness.'' For a rich man, paying his debts off is a trivial matter. It doesn''t matter that he is paying a lot more money because there are no stakes. The banker can''t kill him, and he has a lot of money. So all he''s doing is treading water.


    "A poor man, who has much smaller debts, risks being sold into slavery. If he succeeds in paying off all his debts and becoming a little prosperous, that is a far greater deed."


    "Because he was facing worse odds," guessed Kata.


    "Exactly," said Tanith. "Your people are in a bad position and aren''t likely to win. So if they win or even fail gloriously, it will be far more impressive. Wouldn''t you consider that an opportunity?"


    Kata looked at Tanith with wide eyes. She seemed about to say something, only to halt. "Well then, who is the God of Death?"


    "Elranor," said William, coming in with his helmet off. "Why else would his Paladin go shod in plate inlaid with skulls? The domain of every deity becomes its antithesis."


    "What do you mean?" asked Kata. "Elranor is a God of Healing. Of restoring and protecting."


    "Yes," said Tanith. "And how do you treat a wound that has festered and can''t be healed by normal magic?"


    "...You cut the rot out," said Kata.


    "Exactly," said William.


    Kata looked down with a sigh. "What am I supposed to do? Even if I get home, what then?"


    "For a start, you can tell us a bit about these Babarassians," said William. "I''d know they''d been setting up some colonies, but I didn''t think they''d go this far." There he went again with the lady''s man chivalrous act he''d been practicing with Kiyora.


    Kata halted. "We were told King Gavin wanted a counterweight to House Gabriel. Colonists will soon be brought in to replace us.


    "Our Lord sold our domain to them. The Islands of Torment and the domain of the Furbearers."


    "He sold part of Harlenor to a foreign power!" said Tanith, hardly believing his ears. "You mean he...


    "Why that-"


    "Calm yourself, Tanith," said William. "Kata, do you know how to use a spear?"


    "Well, we use them for fishing," said Kata. "And we hunt with slings, but we''ve no real experience at war. King Gavin forbade us from practicing, and we never had the strength to resist him."


    "Well, King Gavin is now more or less making war on you by proxy," said William. "So you are no longer obligated to listen to anything he says."


    "Right, you''re right," said Kata with a sigh.


    "Well, Tanith will instruct you as best I can on the journey," said William. "If all of your people learn how to do this in an organized military fashion, I expect it should help a great deal."


    This looked like the start of a beautiful friendship. Also, Kata was easy on the eyes.


    The only thing that could ruin it was that Anborn might be in Ascorn.


    But the sun was just as high and the wind as brisk when they returned above decks. And now Tanith had another potentially beautiful slave girl once she was cleaned up.


    Well, not really, but the fantasy was fun.

 Chapter Three: Arrival

    Drilling Kata and her men proved harder than expected, so Tanith had to put away fantasies. William was very glad of this because those she had mentioned were disturbing. He did not want to dwell on her desire for a Furbearer Princess. She had practical things to worry about.


    Kata¡¯s people numbered almost four hundred and that made things difficult. It should have been impossible to heal them all.


    Any normal priest would be dead on their feet, healing a few of these people''s worst cases. William had done it without any difficulty and was now searching high and low, trying to find them clean garments.


    Eventually he''d taken to handing out the cloaks of the Babarassians. It was a poor solution, but it worked until they could get real clothes. Their old garments were cast into the fire for warmth in the chill air.


    The Furbearer''s concept of war involved slings and guerilla tactics or personal combat. Tanith and William worked on giving them a basic idea of how to do a spear wall. But there were better places for learning combat than a ship.


    "I don''t understand why you haven''t trained in spear walls," said William.


    "Father says that the best defense is like water," said Kata. "Yielding and reforming while your enemy exhausts themselves.¡±


    "And why didn''t that work?" asked William.


    "Our settlements have grown," said Kata. "Trade has made us more numerous. Some can escape, but not all. There are places we must defend."


    "Right," said William. "Moving like water is good when you have a small and mobile force. You can outmaneuver an enemy. But as you grow in size, you have to be able to hold ground. Otherwise, your enemies can destroy important things you can''t move."


    "Perhaps I''ve always preferred the principle of all-consuming flame," said Tanith. "As outlined by Anoa."


    "What''s that?" asked Kata.


    "Take what you can burn the rest," said Tanith. "If you don''t have a use for something, destroy it so your enemies can''t use it."


    "But won''t that make everyone worse off in the long run," said Kata.


    "If everyone is out to get you, making everyone worse off is a victory," said William. "It demonstrates that you are willing to accept injury to disrupt the control of your enemies. When Anoa the Bright lived, the other races had conspired to shut humanity out.


    "Anoa adopted the principle of the all-consuming flame. Deadwood was burned away, and the strongest thrived. It was unpleasant, and I wouldn''t use the strategy myself, but it worked."


    "The Withering Lord and Neral Dinis had a similar policy," noted Kata. "Only with wraiths and zombies. The Incarnation of the Land taught us that such thinking would only hurt everyone."


    "Yes, but not doing it hurts you right now and encourages others to do the same," said William.


    "You would never understand," said Kata, looking away to sea with a faraway gaze.


    Eventually, they arrived.


    The port of Ascorn could be smelled, even far out to sea. The docks had ships upon ships within them, bustling with all kinds of people. Towers stood overlooking the bay, but no one seemed to be in them. And there seemed to be many turbaned men with beards. They wore concealing garments while walking the place.


    As they halted, Tanith seemed in a good mood. But for his part, William found his first sight of Antion disappointing. Most kept hands near their swords or knives, and guards were at every pier.


    But no city guard or men wearing the colors of Lord Rius. It troubled him. In Ran Telus and Arsheen, there was a contingent of guards at the docks at all times. Several porters were moving this way and that, hurrying to be off the streets. Shops and establishments by the waterfront had barred windows.


    The water by the pier was filthy, an oozing brown, and stank to heaven. Several bodies lay floating in the jetsam, and some were bloated from being there a long time.


    "Well, here we are, Will, the port of Ascorn," said Tanith. "Principal actor in the slave trade and where the Antion heartlands sell their grain.


    "A lot less clean than last time. Usually, they fish the bodies out right away. Rius doesn''t like them upsetting people; it kills trade. Something must be wrong."


    William remained composed. Tanith knew a thing or two about how the economics of this place operated. "They sell to Artarq too, Kata. They''ve even shipped as far as Ruscow in times of peace.


    "Estal is self-sufficient, of course. But often, vessels come down here bearing booty from the wars. Gold, jewels, tapestries, and... slaves as well."


    "How can you be so calm?" asked Kata. "There are corpses in the water!"


    William turned to her and set a hand gently to her shoulder. "Kata, never display weakness to a stranger. And never display your ignorance if you can avoid it. Keep your eyes and ears open, and think about what you see.


    "For instance;


    "Do you see any grain boxes waiting for a sale?" He motioned to an area where goods awaited purchase. There were vendors, but only a few.


    "No," said Kata. "They must not be harvesting right now."


    "Or?" asked William.


    "Someone might have stolen or sent it somewhere else," said Kata.


    "Why?" asked William.


    Kata opened her mouth to say, ''I don''t know,'' then caught herself. "They have a plan to use it for something else. Or it might have been a bad harvest. Or the grain might just not be stored around this place anymore."


    "Good," said William. "You didn''t display your ignorance. Instead, you stabbed at the truth and, in so doing, came to an alternative possibility. Now I respond; How?"


    "The consequences of the grain not being there," said Kata. ¡°People could starve, and some people will not be making a sale. Most people are farmers. That means if the grain isn''t here, everyone who sells and buys it has a problem.


    "And since everyone who sells and buys the grain has a problem, everyone has a problem. What kind of monster would cut off the grain supply?"


    "The kind that did not live here," said William.


    "A demon could have done it," said a Furbearer nearby. He had a shaved head and was taller than Kata.


    "A demon would do something much more grandiose," said William. "Demons are theatrical. This sort of stunt would be boring to them.


    "Try again."


    "There could have been a breakdown in supply," said Kata.


    "And," said William, "how might your enslavement play into this?"


    "I guess they might need someone to work the fields," said Kata. "But where did all the soldiers come from?"


    "I expect they came back from the battlefield," said Tanith. "When I came through here, many people were joining up."


    "So it''s a revolt," said the Furbearer from before. Kata looked at him with recognition and wondered at the connection. ¡°These must be out-of-work men looking to get even."


    William was surprised at how much they had guessed. "Or all our guesses might be wrong. Whatever the case, remember that we will not start any fights until we know what is happening. Keep the ship well-guarded, and don''t let anyone on."


    "Then what is our mission?" asked Kata.


    "We don''t have one at present," said William. "I was seeking passage to Gel Carn. Now I have a guide to meet."


    William looked to Tanith. Her Father was an abolitionist. He had a long correspondence with Father. An irony not lost on William, who was not an abolitionist. Father didn''t take impractical positions.


    "My Father did trade with this port, sometimes," mused Kata. "But he said it was a wretched hive."


    "That is an unjust opinion," said William, a bit offended. "When Father and his party journeyed to Themious, it was by the advice of Rius, and trade was so established. Though it is indirect, he fought at the battle of Desora, a brief engagement but a decisive one."


    "I remember that a group of Amazons once landed among us," said Kata. "Our merchants bought their pottery and sold it to Harlenorians. It was some of the best we''d ever seen. We still have some back home or have."


    "In any case," said William. "Father respects Lord Rius."


    "Duke Vanion respects everyone," said Tanith.


    "My sources say smugglers have been setting up shop out here," said Felix. "Rius disregards their operations in exchange for a cut given to the royal treasury. Then he deducts it from his taxes."


    "That is the business of the royal court," said William. ¡°I doubt very much it is unregulated.¡±


    "I don''t care about regulations," said Kata. "I care about what they are doing to my people. Why are you praising them?"


    "I think you misunderstand the nature of a feudal system," said William. "Individual Lords are more or less the King of their domains. The Kings of Harlenor are meant to involve themselves only in cases of treason.


    "Although I admit, Antion has somewhat departed from King Anoa''s vision." William paused. "What do you sell?"


    "Yes," said Kata. "Our textiles are some of the best, thanks to blessings laid on us by the Goddess Isriath. Well, that was before Rioletta seized her domain."


    "That''s probably why King Gavin decided to sell you out," noted Felix. "Ascorn also imports wine from Khasmir and Seathorius. There are various magical baubles created in Magicora, and pottery from Artarq."


    "And slaves. Lots of slaves," said Tanith.


    "I already know that, Tanith," said William. "I have studied under all the same lessons as you.¡±


    "And where do the slaves go?" asked Kata.


    "Well, most slaves are imported here and shipped down to work the fields in Antion," said Felix. "Traditionally, they are prisoners of war. The ones that are shipped in from the Sea of Power get sold to the island chains, then the vampires of House De Chevlon."


    "Not anymore; they don''t," noted William. "Arraxia has abolished the practice. She says that as all the creatures of Seathorius are her property, they have no right to own one another."


    "Yeah, I heard about that," noted Tanith. "It''s going to be bad for the plantations. House Marn got them rapid replacements of slaves through Savior''s Run. Who''s in charge of the slave trade for House De Chevlon anyway? I''ve forgotten their name."


    "Baroness Saphra De Chevlon," said Felix. "Raynald''s brothers were in line for the position but declined it. One entered the church, another became a military man, and the last became a merchant.


    "And before she came of age, the duty was held by Neral Dinis.¡±


    "Neral Dinis?" asked Kata. "My grandmother told me that he served the Withering Lord and ruled over us during the height of our power. Back when necromancers still reigned."


    "Oh yes," said Tanith. "He depopulated entire villages during the fighting. But Erik the Voyager wiped out most of his clan. And before that, he battled Anoa the Bright."


    "Why do you speak so casually of these things? Isn''t he a monster?" asked Kata.


    "A lot of people are monsters," noted Tanith. "I don''t have time to kill them all. And isn''t he your benefactor anyway?"


    "Serving Neral Dinis was... a mistake," said Kata. "Maybe these brothers of your friend Raynald could help, though? I mean, they aren''t part of the worship of undeath."


    "Raynald has long had a vendetta against his brothers," said William. "They hate one another. However, that hatred might have cooled. If I encounter them, I can bridge the gap.


    "Felix, you''ve been here before, haven''t you?"


    "Yes," said Felix. "I was sold here to Duke Vanion. It''s not a pleasant memory."


    "You mean you''re a slave," asked Kata.


    "A trusted subordinate. Felix is paid well for his services," said William quickly. "At least some good came of it in the end. And it could have been worse. Tanith, where is the Steel Arm."


    "Up there, over that way," said Tanith. "I''d avoid the other inns. Some of them employ Zigildrazians, and they bewitch the mind. Yeah, the courtesans are good, but they''re a trap.


    "Never go in for Zigildrazians. Never go in for prostitutes. If you''re in the market for beauty, seize it from an enemy village. No risk of being trapped by dark magic,


    "The Steel Arm is a nice place that doesn''t go in for that sort of thing. Or at least it did when I was last here. That was on my way back from Gel Carn. They have a lot of flowers in that place; Jehair grew them.¡±


    "Have you met Jehair?" asked William.


    "Once or twice, in passing. I was connected to her by Rusara," said Tanith. "We traveled together a bit. She''s nice to look at, but I''d bind her before trying to have my way with her."


    "Is that all you think about?" asked William.


    "It''s the first thing I think about," said Tanith. "Part of appreciating beauty is seeing the use in it. We traveled together a bit, and she''s nearly as bloodthirsty as I am. I don''t think she thinks much of people.¡±


    "I''ll bear it in mind," said William, not sure whether to believe Tanith. He decided to withhold judgment. Rusara had vouched for her, after all. "Thank you for taking us this far, Tanith."


    "No trouble at all; I''m just glad to get out," said Tanith. "That fight we had on the way here was fun.


    "Kata, the ship is yours."


    "What?" said Kata in surprise. "Do you know how valuable this is?"


    "Money isn''t everything, and I''ve got to sign back up with my Captain," said Tanith. "Go on home and take the weapons."


    "I..." Kata blushed. "Thank you."


    "Just keep drilling and learn to use them. I doubt anyone will free you again," said Tanith. "Still, if you stick around here, you might be able to get some help."


    "Good luck," said William.


    "You as well," said Kata.


    William and Felix stepped onto the dock. As they did, he remembered events. "That is my second journey by sea, and I have been ambushed twice. I hope this will not become a pattern."


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "Oh, come on, violence and adventure are always a good thing," called Tanith after him.


    William smiled.


    "It looks like someone is taking an interest in the ship we were on," said Tanith.


    William turned and saw it pulling in. A very large troop of well-armed Babarassians was going forward. They were clad in silvery armor, with pointed helmets, steel masks, and scimitars. The crew drew swords, and soon a fight began as both sides battled it out.


    Several Harlenorians groups came out with spears and axes. Coming at the armored Babarassians from behind, they did not catch them off guard. But even as they did, more unarmored Babarassians and a full-on brawl were happening. Other men came out to watch.


    "Someone knew our ship," said William. "Tanith, I''ve got to get off now. Dress the Furbearers in the garb of our fallen enemies. They have the same skin hue, so it might fool them. And stay off the top deck. If they gather outside the dock, make them pay in blood.¡±


    "Jehair is your friend, right?" asked Kata.


    "No," said William. "Not yet.


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    Soon enough, they were going through the docks, with Felix leading. It was cramped and bustling, and William saw many beggars clad in rags. Halting, he halted and pressed a coin into the hand of one. Then, seeing another lame, he healed him and gave him a coin.


    This attracted some attention, and there were murmurs. So William used the opportunity to heal people. This was a fine start, so he''d soon worked his way to where the battle was winding down. William healed the Harlenorians but left the Babarassian attackers where they were.


    One of them went at him with a knife and got his head chopped of by Felix.


    But William ignored them and continued. Then, noting Babarassians motioning to him, William met their gaze. They held him, and their eyes narrowed. Silence reigned, and after a moment, they turned away. Then they turned on.


    "...You don''t suppose Jehair is as bad as Tanith says, do you?" asked William.


    "She seemed to have a very high opinion of her," noted Felix.


    William shrugged. "Tanith has a warped perspective on things, even if she is getting better. I''m not sure her approval of a thing is entirely good."


    "She approves of you and me," noted Felix.


    "I think we are lost sheep in need of correction to her," laughed William. "Felix, why are there so many Babarassians here? And so well-armed?"


    Felix shook his head. "There were a few here last time, but never so many. It is a long way to Themious and their continent."


    "What would they buy here?" mused William.


    "Slaves of a different sort," said Felix. "Not plantations but... well, other purposes. Galley slaves for warships and girls."


    "Like what Tanith did," surmised William, remembering the Priestess Atria.


    "Far worse," said Felix.


    "Who are the main people in the business?" asked William.


    "Well, the slave trade has never been profitable," said Felix. "Most merchants give money to the trade as a pledge of loyalty to one Planter Lord or another. You rarely make the money back.


    "But the Lords in the heartlands support it so they can continue to buy slaves. Virtually everyone has bought into it."


    "So why keep it if it''s not profitable?" asked William. He''d learned much of this before but intended to make his judgment.


    "Because they would need to exert themselves to keep their positions," said Felix. "Maintaining the slave trade is a safe way to throw commoners off their land and be as brutal as you like. A commoner can raise concerns, complain, or stage a revolution. Soldiers might feel bad about brutalizing them.


    "A slave can be worked to death, tortured or mutilated or whatever you want. No one will care.¡±


    "Why do you need people at all, then? Why not kill everyone, resurrect them as undead, and have them work plantations?" asked William. "They could do all the work, wouldn''t rebel, and would eat less."


    "I gather that was Neral Dinis'' viewpoint," said Felix.


    William laughed, though he really shouldn''t have.


    Then he paused to consider things and looked down the street. He saw several merchants trying to get a coin from a moneylender. From the looks of things, the merchant was becoming increasingly frustrated. The moneylender looked smug as if in triumph. Then, a thin, nice-looking back with a mustache moved forward to intercede. He wore a fine, expensive tunic meant to look humble and down to earth. William knew enough about such tunics to know that it was not.


    After a moment, the merchant moved away, satisfied. The moneylender did not seem upset, and Lilas spoke to him and smiled. Then he moved away, looking very reasonable.


    "Who is that?" asked William.


    "A large merchant," said Felix. "Called Lilas; he owns several different shipping companies. He has indirect control over many others. It''d only be possible to say how many with seeing his finance book.


    "He likes to play the reasonable mediator. He probably owns the moneylender. He used to be the chief financier for King Gavin of Haldren. He got his start making the King more money for the treasury. This was back when Argath Marn was being sold Artarq to fill Antion.


    "Haldren got the better end of the deal.


    "But the man is scum."


    "What makes you say that?" asked William.


    "He owns brothels," said Felix. "He makes a profit on the brutalization and exploitation of defenseless women. No one can be in that business and not be a villain.


    "Perhaps one can partake and keep their soul.


    "But for the one who owns the building? Nothing."


    "Duly noted," said William, who had never used them. Oddly, neither had Tanith. All her conquests had been taken in war, and the only one she ever talked about was Atria. "Are the Babarassians involved?"


    "In many things," said Felix. "They usually play the role of middleman merchants.


    "I remember Father had one or two clashes with them during his adventures," said William. "But I think they''d become a shadow of their former selves. Mother tells me their land is wasted and barren."


    "Perhaps the shadow is taking on a new form," noted Felix. "It has been over a decade and a half since he departed.


    "Given the number of ships, There are far too many of them around here. Merchant vessels prefer cargo to guards."


    William realized they''d passed another large group with scimitars and mail. They eyed him hatefully. Where were the guards? "Whatever it is, I doubt it has anything to do with us. We may inquire with Lord Rius later if it becomes necessary. Come."


    The Steel Arm, as it turned out, was a large, two-story establishment. They had large windows with glass and a well-lit interior. A guard was at the door, the walls were painted white, and the windows were barred. William noted, however, that the cobblestones nearest the inn had slight spikes. "Why have those spikes?"


    "To prevent beggars from sleeping or sitting there," said Felix. "Though there are a lot more since I was here last." William saw that these were near virtually every building. And there were a lot of beggars.¡±


    Many of them were sick.


    Very nice. William healed the ones nearest to him and left the rest for later.


    "Ah," said William, finding the idea disturbing. This was not a fine introduction to the greatest Harlenorian nations. But perhaps that would change in time. "So this is the Steel Arm Inn? It looks nice enough."


    "It looks disreputable," said Felix.


    "I said nice enough, not nice," said William. "Never mind, we''ll enter and look for any sign of Jehair and Amenos."


    Felix''s assessment soon proved to be the better one.


    There were dancing girls plying their trade upon a table. They had skin and an unnatural complexion of red, blue, and green. With blue skin and twin tendrils coming from her head, one of them eyed him as she moved, with a brand upon her stomach. She looked about his age, though she was of some race he did not know and was already well-developed.


    Hadn¡¯t Father mentioned such a species in his journeys?


    William quickly averted his gaze with a blush. He wasn¡¯t sure which one was at greater risk of ensnaring him. Green or blue. There appeared to be many flowers growing around from jars of dirt. They grew around the tables and up walls. They had pink petals and were quite majestic and emerged from gaps in the floor.


    Over to one side, William saw a man smoking a pipe on a table without any flowers. His skin was weathered and his hair dark, but he was not Calishan. He was of the old Haldrenian race that dwelled in the north. William''s people, descended from the folk of Erik the Voyager, were a mix of many races. As were those of Lord Kern, and the Furbearers were of Calishan stock.


    Yet the northern race had not mixed with other races. He had a grim look and looked at William keenly. At his side was a sword, so he was nobility, and he wore a coarse kind of leather made from cattle in the lands of House Acas. That was in the far north of Haldren, where livestock grazed.


    It was very good leather if worn, and he had a bow near him. His features were noble, though he hid it well.


    An aristocrat was trying to blend. William didn''t see why he bothered since aristocrats were common. Could he be someone of vast importance? Or was he an enemy of Lord Rius? He couldn''t simply be bad at hiding; he wasn''t. Someone who knew nothing of Haldren wouldn''t have given him a second glance.


    He likely just wore these clothes normally.


    "One moment, Felix," said William.


    And he moved over to sit across from him, trying not to choke at the smoke.


    "Yes?" asked the man.


    "Might I inquire as to King Gavin''s interest here?" asked William.


    The man smiled wryly. "King Gavin has many interests. You''re sharp."


    "I have to be," said William, not feeling. "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel and Paladin of Elranor. Might I know your name?"


    "My name is Aras," said the man. "I should warn you, you have been careless with your name. If you are not careful, news of your presence will be everywhere. Certain unsavory powers might take an interest."


    "Let them come," said William. "I am a Paladin, and I will heal every sick and injured person I find. That alone will mark me, so I will not presume to pretend to be other than what I am. Aras is the Prince of Haldren''s name."


    "It is," said the man. "There is more than one man with that name.


    "Still, I''m sure the men wearing cloaks and daggers will be pleased with the distraction. As will those you heal.


    "But if I were you, I would avoid the main roads and the cities. Your guide, Jehair, can be trusted if you are in her charge. I am quite familiar with her as a friend and adversary; she will never betray the one she works for.


    "If you are in the wilderness, you will be perfectly safe from reprisal. Enter the cities, and you will find yourself in danger. And Jehair will be out of her element. This one, of course, is the exception.


    "Lord Rius has taken too lax a hand. Things are either out of hand or have been getting out of hand for a long time. I am beginning to fear it is the latter. It might be best to depart this place as soon as possible."


    "Thank you," said William. "Gods protect you."


    "And you as well," said the man.


    William stood up, accidentally inhaled some smoke, and choked on it, coughing. Aras laughed, and William moved sourly. As he did, he noticed the dancer again, seeming to try and get his attention. It was something he would not be giving. He looked to Felix.


    "I thought Tanith said this place didn''t employ Zigildrazian people," said William.


    "It may have changed," noted Felix. "Tanith has not been here for some time. Many Zigildrazian immigrants moved into Antion.¡±


    William nodded and looked through the place until he saw Amenos. He was sitting in a corner, half-shrouded in shadow. Across from him was a beautiful elven woman, unlike Arraxia or Kiyora. It was a natural appearance, with earthy-brown, braided hair and a wooden staff. Her curvaceous form was clad in travel-worn furs, yet she seemed unmarred.


    Jehair matched the picture, though it did not do her justice. The flowers seemed to move around her.


    "How long must we dally in this accursed place?" asked Jehair, voice a harsh Eastern accent. "The roads grow ever more dangerous by the moment, and yet we idle here in this terrible city!


    "Would that the feral beasts we hunt should tear this festering place asunder! Then we might have at least one less cancer on nature!" Her tone had a frustrated, furious note, and she seemed like the sort of person to be so often.


    William moved forward, noting Amenos looking at him. "Jehair, you should not speak so openly. We are in public. Such statements will not win us, friends."


    "Friends or not, had Rusara not requested it directly, I should not be here," said Jehair. "Other matters demand our attention, Amenos, beyond escorting nobility."


    "It would be a grievous blow to Rusara if William were to be killed," said Amenos. "Our alliance with House Gabriel is paramount to the Dust Elven elders. And we both know that you''ve already finished most of your tasks."


    "And so I must be called away again," said Jehair.


    "Excuse me-" began William.


    "Yes, what is it?" asked Jehair. "Are you a mercenary in search of work? If so, there will be plenty of opportunities to perform atrocities on your fellow men at the docks. I am told they are hiring across the channel."


    "My name is William Gabriel, and I do not commit atrocities," said William. He was annoyed at not being recognized immediately. Surely, the skull armor and blonde hair ought to have given him away. He removed the helm.


    "I wonder how many trees had to die to forge that suit of armor you wear," mused Jehair. "I gather it would be at least one."


    Was she referring to the destruction of the tree Gail Arengeth had grown? Why would that be related? "I wonder how many animals had to die for the leather you''re wearing. And the wood in the staff in your hand must have been cut from somewhere or torn from living wood. The cloth you''ve tied your hair with is made from some sort of fabric, which would need hurting a plant."


    "Yes, very perceptive, oh skull-faced seeker of transport," said Jehair. "Life and death are cyclical. Perhaps in your infinite wisdom, you shall soon perceive that water is wet."


    "Isn''t being soaked with water what makes a thing wet?" asked William. He heard a laugh and looked to see a pink-haired woman sitting in a bar, sitting with Aras now. They had been speaking. She had a dagger at her side and stood out for some reason. No one noted that she was clad in a brown tunic that bared her legs.


    Turning back to Jehair, William decided to be more subtle. He was being observed.


    "Only one of higher education would think such a technicality important," scoffed Jehair. "But enough of this, Amenos; I believe you had some plan or agenda you sought from all this, just like everyone else."


    "Yes," said Amenos. "I am here on behalf of Rusara to arrange transportation for new colonists. There are a great many more of them these days. And much of our time is spent relocating them to Artarq."


    "What is so important?" asked William, taking a seat. Looking at where the girl was, I thought she was gone, and there was no sign she had ever been there.


    "The so-called nobility have become wealthy by murder and thievery. Yourself included," said Jehair in clear disgust. "Once they stole enough, and many of the men shipped off to die in wars of their making, many smaller farms fell behind.


    "As a result, these nobles bought up huge swaths of land from those they dispossessed. They are now shipping vast numbers of slaves to the ground. And all the while, the guilds from Antion are coming in here. They forced all the artisans and professionals into the fold."


    "It hasn''t spread to Brisgald, has it?" asked William, looking to Amenos. He motioned to Felix to keep watch.


    "No," conceded Jehair. "Brisgald is the exception; your kinsmen are quite creative. Instead, they offer free passage to foreign lands in exchange for service. All while protecting the farms of their serfs."


    "That is a mutually beneficial arrangement. And nobody has used serfs since Anoa the Bright outside Escor," said William.


    "Oh, of course not," said Jehair. "For surely, the Harlenorian Kingdoms are the whole world. There are no lands beyond that which you survey, and all else is fantasy."


    "Tell me, do you have some personal grudge against me?" William asked in bemusement. Or is it simply in your nature to be combative and irritable?"


    "Perhaps the same question might be asked of your entire race," said Jehair. Her voice was sarcastic and singsong. "Oh, burner of civilizations."


    "A lack of self-awareness, combined with seeing your flaws in the face of your enemy," mused William. "I am pleased to see High Elven culture remains intact today." The combat amused onlookers.


    "Intact, but not unchanged," replied Jehair simply, smiling. "The opposite seems to be the flaw of humans. You live and die in a fraction of our years, and yet you remain the very image of Harlenor of old. In several pieces, granted."


    "Several. Yet all are more in touch with the world than Qor''Danas," said William, beginning to enjoy himself. "Perhaps you like to play the underdog?"


    "Underdog, indeed," scoffed Jehair. "The elves have built a great tree whose roots lie on innumerable worlds.


    "That which provides sustenance even to the wild beasts who gnaw at them."


    "How fortunate that such heroic beasts do as much," noted William. He was beginning to enjoy himself for once. "Lest all the land be sapped of life. Indeed, I should say the surroundings of this tree most resemble a graveyard."


    "I should compare it instead to a desert¡ªone set aflame," Jehair replied with a laugh.


    "A desert of our own making is preferable to a paradise for you," said William.


    "Would that we could return to happier days," said Jehair. "For a land restored seems to you only an opportunity to create fresh new means of rot."


    "I bow to the elves'' superior knowledge in all matters about decay," said William. General laughter resounded through the men.


    "If you keep going at this, we''re going to be here all day," said Felix quickly. "We do have a mission, William."


    William nodded, as did Jehair. She nodded. "Yes, I take your point. And who are you?"


    "This is Felix, a friend and servant," said William as he sat down. "Amenos, do you trust Aras over there?"


    "So long as we are professional in our dealings and not enemies of Haldren, yes," said Amenos.


    "One cannot befriend and servant," said Jehair, ignoring the statement. "We learned that to our sorrow."


    "Then, a friend, if you must have one and not the other," said William, wanting to be done with this. There was a flicker by the door, but no one noticed it. "Are you ready to depart?"


    "I may leave whenever you are ready," said Jehair. "These cities are detestable places, and I want no further place in them than I must have. It would have been better had they never been built at all."


    "I see," said William, thinking they had to stay longer. "Are there many people in need of healing here?"


    "If you seek membership in the Healer''s Guild, yes," said Jehair.


    "I do not; I seek to heal people," said William.


    "Then no," said Jehair with a shrug. "The Healer''s Guild has come to this city and is here to stay. Any traveler who tries to heal without a license tends to disappear."


    "Where do the sick and injured congregate?" asked William.


    "There are places where they may go to be healed for free," said Jehair, looking around. "But in return, they owe a service to the guild. One service usually becomes two, then three, and then a career, and it rarely ends well."


    "Take me to them," said William.


    "You''re not serious?" said Felix.


    "I work miracles, Felix," said William. "I have no intention of letting anyone put a price on them. I intend to heal every sick and injured person in this city and put them out of business. Making a profit off miracles is disgusting."


    "That would be unwise," said Jehair.


    "You have a better idea?" asked William.


    "Go and heal everyone, and you''ll deny them a profit, temporarily," said Jehair. "But you''ll also out yourself as an enemy and lose the element of surprise.¡±


    "William is right," blurted Felix. "This is not something that can be forestalled.


    "We''re at a major port with trade lanes heading all over. They could set up operations elsewhere if the Healer''s Guild is here. They may have already; if so, this is a significant place for them."


    "You show some wisdom, at least, child," said Jehair after a moment. "Rot has to be cut out before it can be spread. Trying to heal it is useless, but I think you will find it useless.¡±


    William looked back to Aras and saw the girl was gone.


    "Is something wrong?" asked Amenos.


    "I thought I just saw a girl with pink hair," said William. "She was watching us and laughed at something we said."


    "You need not worry," said Jehair. "This table is meant for silence. It ought to have covered you as well. What of Lord Rius being in their pay?"


    "If he is not, then he is a fool not to charge for letting them destroy his city," noted Jehair. "Or do you think all the wonderful operations Tavish has set up here were done without his knowledge? The endless parades of slaves led off to be worked to death or other, worse fates: the illegal goods and the bribery.


    "He has done exceedingly well out of it."


    "There are other possible explanations," said Amenos.


    "Well then, I''ll meet with him," said William.


    "Do you intend to accuse him to his face?" said Jehair. Her tone said it would be very unwise.


    "No," said William. "Why would I? We should order some drinks. I think we need to know a good deal more about things."


    "We''ll be here a while, then," said Jehair. "Men have entered; you won''t want to be noticed by."


    She motioned to the door, and William followed her gaze.

 Chapter Four: Beginnings in a Tavern

    It was not the girl, and William wondered if he''d ever seen her.


    In the door, William saw a slim, almost effeminate boy with long blue hair. It fell around his shoulders, and he wore dark robes. Bangs fell before his face; he wore leather and a long knife. With him was a boy about his age in black armor, wearing a massive sword on his back. The two sat before one of the dancing girls, the green-skinned one. Meanwhile, the blue-haired man fingered a knife.


    Jehair motioned with a hand, and the flowers near their seats shifted slightly. She brushed her hair back as the two moved on to a seat in the corner.


    "These flowers absorb sound and limit how far it can spread," said Jehair. "So this place is a good place to meet for those who do not want to be heard.


    "Those two men are Tavish Kern and a longtime partner whose name escapes me. They have been setting up new slave-trading lanes."


    "You projected your conversation with Amenos onto me," William realized. "You wanted to see how I''d react."


    "It is best to take the measure of the power quickly," said Jehair. "Now hush, child, we may learn something to our advantage."


    Had he seen her? And why, if he had, had the others missed her?


    William took offense at being called child, but he was young, so he let it pass. Instead, he listened to them.


    "Look, Lamech; there will be a disruption here soon if you ask me. Tides are coming in; time to get inland," The blue-haired man said, admiring the dancer. His voice was easy and casual, while his opposite friend looked William''s way. "You see Gabriel over there; he''s not the kind of person to walk through unnoticed. I think he will start a fire, and it won''t turn out in our favor if we''re here."


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Lamech, or so William presumed. He had a thick baritone with a slight echo to his voice.


    "You''ve seen some of the pieces on that chessboard Arkan is playing long distance," said Tavish. "Sooner or later, they''ll make a move, and this is the first place they''ll move on. Time you and I cash out. No need to leave any trails."


    "Are you sure they will be gone?" asked Lamech. "Dunmoore gets ruthless."


    "Dunmoore is a Paladin," said Tavish. "They don''t care about anything so long as it doesn''t mess up the shine on their armor. Dunmoore will come and go, sweep up, and we sweep back in."


    "We''ve already made quite a bit here," said Lamech. "If we roll things up inland, we can be in an excellent position."


    "What do you have in mind?" asked Tavish.


    "If supply dries up here, there will be more demand from the Sea of Power and Blackfear," said Lamech. "If we get a supply of our own, we can position ourselves as a reasonable alternative."


    "I guess you have some ideas already," said Tavish.


    "Yes," said Lamech as their food arrived. "But not here. Let''s eat, Tavish. I am hungry."


    "I have your ale," said the blue-skinned dancer from before. She held a large plate with three cups and her movements drew the eyes. "Hey there, what can I get for you?"


    "Thank you," said William, looking at her. "I''ll have what they are."


    The barmaid brought the drinks, and William turned to Amenos. "So, this Healer''s Guild, when did it originate?"


    "It was a creation in Antion at first," said Amenos. "Originally, it was developed as a group of freelance healers. They did good work for a price and usually operated among people who didn''t want to be among the gods.


    "They were not, so far as we know, bad people."


    "Who is their patron now? I can''t imagine Elranor continues any support," said Felix.


    "Coinfurth, for the most part. Though some also pay homage to Zigildrazia or other demonic archons," said Jehair. "Many priests have been trained in Sorn under the view of House Suvvest. They are sent to seek employment in the Healer''s Guild. A few worship more... distant deities like the Fish King or the Shark Queen¡ªones with little concern for morality.


    "But many of them come from foreign parts, from off-world. The leader went into business with Sen Kaba."


    "I''ve heard of him," said William. "He is a merchant Lord with whom Father has a personal enmity. Our business interests and morality cross often."


    "Yes, and he is the most feared non-noble in Antion, perhaps more so," said Jehair. "They changed their business strategies after the Healer''s Guild became his partner.


    "They began aggressively killing anyone who tried to heal anyone besides themselves. Hired thugs would murder priests as they came down. If they came down under guard, they''d be murdered later when the priests weren''t around. People who went to the Temple to be healed would usually have the injury inflicted on them again.


    "Pretty soon, the High Priest of Elranor, Cirithil, called off all healers and sent them to other areas, places where the Healer''s Guild wasn''t operating.


    "But that made everything worse. Without any competition, they forced everyone not associated with the Temple. Then they moved out of Antion and started taking over the town, and people who stand up to them get crushed." sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Has the Paladin Order done nothing about this?" asked William, surprised.


    "Truthfully, the Paladin Order has been sending most of its members to the Islands of Power. That or Gel Carn," said Amenos. "Although they are based in Antion, they have been less involved in Antion''s affairs. There has been a war, and they''ve been mobilizing to fight Baltoth for some time.


    "Though, happily, they are becoming more involved with the truce."


    "I suspect they believe their presence would corrupt them," said Jehair. "They fight Antion''s wars but refuse to involve themselves in internal matters. And the scope of what qualifies as internal can be wide indeed."


    "That is not entirely true," said Amenos. "Lord Dunmoore has several times purged the more violent and evil gangs. When they become a problem, his Paladins prevent things from becoming too violent."


    "I remember hearing about this now," said William. "At the time, I was in the Khasmir campaign. But Father told me in a letter about a group that did this. The Fists of Baltoth gang protected them. I cut their profits by healing for free and accidentally bankrupting them."


    "I think that was why Rusara chose that method of training you in the first place," said Felix.


    "Everyone won, so I see no reason to object, Felix. Still, why wouldn''t the Paladins do as I did?" asked William. "All paladins have healing abilities. If they healed anyone who needed it, they''d undercut the whole business in a few afternoons."


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    "Well, you have a rare gift for it," said Amenos.


    "I suspect that they have other things to concern themselves with. Dunmoore needs to gain more appreciation for concepts such as economic warfare. He prefers to limit his operations to the physical and spiritual."


    "...Is not healing the sick and injured the domain of the spiritual?" asked William.


    "Traditionally," said Amenos. "Paladins are a military order, while the church deals with healing the sick and injured."


    "But they aren''t," said William.


    "That seems to be the crux of the issue, William," said Felix. "What worries me is that Rusara didn''t tell you about it. Why keep it a secret?"


    "I had many things to deal with," said William. "She probably didn''t want to trouble me with it. Remember what happened in Khasmir?"


    "That was before the information came to light, William," Felix reminded him.


    William shook his head. This conversation was going to a different place than he wanted to talk about. "We shouldn''t discuss this here."


    "I see," said Amenos. "It is a good notion, but I fear it would be ineffective here. Duke Vanion is a powerful man with a great army and many followers.


    "Unfortunately, it is well into the advanced stages in this place. Worse still, there are operations in the countryside and neighboring cities. Many people here would come out in support of them, whether for fear or personal gain."


    "How?" asked William, surprised at these criminals'' freedom. How could they intimidate Lords with armies? "The militia system was designed for this very purpose. Anoa the Bright created it so that no man could abuse his power. If everyone can and will fight for themselves, then tyrants cannot thrive."


    "The militia system is less effective when the nobility is on your enemy''s side," said Jehair. "Without organization, nobles who were bribed could run interference. And there were other elements.


    "Outlaws became thick as thieves in places where the Healer''s Guild was resisted. The roads dried up." William wondered if that woman had been planted there. She''d left just as Tavish came in.


    "Why would King Andoa tolerate such a thing?" asked William, becoming more concerned. The tales he''d been told of Antion''s golden spires began to dim a bit in his mind, and he fought against it. "Why would the Paladins? They had no role in Khasmir until after I left. Only after the battle of Kynn, they became involved in anything."


    "King Andoa has become far less active with age," said Jehair. "And he is surrounded by serpents; I wonder if he even knows there is a problem.


    "Although the Korlac family has done quite well. They crushed attempts at lawlessness within their domain mercilessly."


    "And what of Lord Rius? Where does he stand?" asked William. "He has long been in correspondence with my Father, and Rusara knows him."


    "He is," said Jehair. "But I have not been able to get a meeting with him. He has come under pressure from Adrian Wrynncurth, and my time with Tanith Telus put him at length."


    William paused and considered his original mission. "How does Wrynncurth fit into this?"


    "From what I gather, he sought to have Tanith arrested as she tried to make for Artarq here," said Jehair.


    William considered the best solution. "...If what you say is true, this is not a criminal organization. It is an invasion, subverting lawful authority."


    "Lawful authority seems an arbitrary concept," said Jehair.


    "If Harlenor is to be overthrown, I''d rather it be in a glorious final battle¡ªnot being subverted by a collection of glorified footpads," said William.


    "In that, at least, I shall grant, your vision would be preferable," said Jehair. So there was some respect there. Unless she was plotting the downfall of Harlenor herself, but that was unlikely. Rusara had vouched for her.


    Felix paused. "...So, what is our course, William?"


    "Let me think," said William, considering things. "We have, at present, three possible ways to rally against these criminals.


    "First, I can undercut their profits by healing everyone I can."


    "I know of these men," said Amenos. "Without being checked by an outside power, the Healer''s Guild would break the legs of those you heal."


    "Perhaps," said William. "The second option is simply resorting to violence. A massacre should be coming shortly; I am nobility. We could find their strong places and pick a fight. People can''t commit crimes when they are dead."


    Jehair blinked in surprise while Amenos looked to Felix and then back. "That strategy employs a level of brutality I doubt Duke Vanion would approve of."


    "It would work," noted Felix. "Do that, and then heal everyone for a few days."


    "Yes, but it would cause only moderate damage, and they could return," said Jehair. "This is an important location for them; they can ship people everywhere. Arkan has many contacts in virtually every village.


    "You could wipe everyone out; might see them and their ilk return before the day was out."


    "Which leads me to the third possible response," mused William. "We make it so there is an organized response."


    Amenos looked to Jehair, and she back. After a moment, he clasped his hands and leaned forward. "Dunmoore is already en route, truthfully. I received a request to arrange a list of targets to remove.


    "We had planned to wait for his arrival and coordinate with him."


    "Why didn''t you say so in the first place?" asked William.


    "Dust Elves operate on a need-to-know basis," said Amenos, ever the professional. "So long as I thought you''d just be passing through, there wasn''t any reason to trouble you. I intended to follow the orders from Rusara and your Father and speed you on your way.


    "If you intend to become involved, however, you need the information. If you were not involved, telling you could tip off our enemies."


    William sighed. "That is not good enough.


    "The situation may worsen, or Dunmoore may be delayed or called off."


    "You weren''t nearly this ruthless when dealing with Karasush," noted Felix.


    "Yes, but Karasush had a legitimate goal he was working to, the preservation of his people," said William. "And by all accounts, he served his god loyally. These people seem to be just doing it for personal gain."


    "How many have you met?" asked Jehair, smiling as if remembering some far-off memory.


    "Some may have no other alternative. Others could be persuaded to join our side. If we can undermine them from within, we could grow stronger from their weaknesses."


    "Or leave behind little pieces of festering rot. From which new cancers will grow," noted William. He began to think that his presence had already been noted, and a response was being prepared.


    "You are dedicated to taking the place of Tanith, aren''t you?" asked Felix.


    "Well, I am acting in her stead," said William with a smile. "What would you say, Jehair?"


    "This Massacre you speak of, who is he?" asked Jehair.


    "She is an illusion, which is a longtime companion of mine. She chose to go through Seathorius on foot," said William, noting Jehair had not read his book. He felt slightly offended, though he knew he shouldn''t. "I believe we should seek information and gather support until such a time as she arrives."


    "Very well," said Jehair. "This seems as good a plan as any we could set up. How will we go about it?"


    "For a start, Felix and I will meet with Lord Rius and speak to him," said William. "We''ll raise the subject, learn his perspective, and try to make arrangements. Amenos, go to Tanith and tell her we''ll need her and her men.


    "I also advise her to be wary of merchants in this place and wait to cut any deals until I can meet with him. And inform her and the girl, Kata, of the situation. Tell her that many of her people may be being held here."


    "I have some friends in this city, and some of my people are due to meet me here on other business," said Amenos. "Making contact with them could help us prepare for a rising. And Tanith could be of great help.


    "Certainly, such a thing may be necessary if our enemy is strong enough. Though Dunmoore may be annoyed at having his glory stolen."


    "The man is the Grandmaster of the Paladin Order," said William with a shrug. "Paladins don''t fight for our glory, but the glory of Elranor. I expect he will be overjoyed to know that men are fighting against injustice alongside him.


    "I would be. I could focus on healing the sick and injured and saving the realm.


    "...Do so, Amenos."


    Jehair shifted. "Oh?


    "And what role do you have in mind for me in this omnipresent and benevolent conspiracy?"


    William considered options and came up with a role that benefited his allies. "...Investigate the slave trade. And find any evidence of Furbearers being held captive.


    "You could coordinate with Tanith on that."


    "Then how do you account for Tanith Telus?" asked Jehair. "If you have such a problem with slavery?"


    "I don''t have a problem with the institution," said William. "Selling captured plunder is one thing. Making a living in trafficking in living plunder is... distasteful."


    "Do you not benefit from it?" asked Jehair.


    "No, I do not," said William. "Anyway, it doesn''t matter. Tanith only told me he kept a Priestess of Baltoth as a slave; that doesn''t mean she sold them."


    "Is that supposed to make it better?" asked Felix.


    "Judge the matter for yourself," said William. "Taking an enemy as a slave is one thing; doing so to an ally is quite another."


    "Well, that is as good a justification as any," said Jehair.


    "Then let''s get going at once," said William, sipping his drink. "Where is Lord Rius'' castle?"


    "He does not have one," said Felix. "He lives in a manor near the city''s west side; I can lead you there."


    "How?" asked William. "I doubt you sat as his guest."


    "Duke Vanion went after that; he bought me," said Felix. "There were some trade disputes to discuss, and he told me to watch and learn."


    "Ah," said William. "And what did you think of Lord Rius?"


    "Duke Vanion was very reasonable," said Felix. "And Rius did not make any demands."


    Thus began the first instance of getting sidetracked on their quest to go from one place to another. William had the feeling he''d be doing this a lot.

 Chapter Five: Plans for Liberation

    The streets were as bad as the docks. William saw a Babarassian exchanging coins with a guard.


    Then a man came from the side with a knife, and William stepped away from his swipe. Grabbing him by the throat, he pulled him from the person he''d just healed and forced him to the ground.


    Several Babarassians drew swords, but one put a knife to an old man''s throat. "I''ll kill him! Drop the sword!"


    Then Felix stepped out of the shadows and grabbed the hostage taker by the sides of the head. Wrenching it to one side, there was a sickening snap as the man''s body fell to the ground. The others rushed at William, who ceded ground. He caught the leader''s blade on his shield and ran him through. The others encircled him, blades jabbing.


    Something hit his shoulder, and a blow knocked his shield to one side. His blade was repelled. Felix was dueling with one and couldn''t jump shadows without being killed. The pain of a blow to his knee plate sends him to one knee, and a blow strikes his helmet.


    Then Aras stepped from the shadows and cleaved four men down in a blur.


    His blade gleamed bright, and it was a sword for a King. Elven magic and steel had forged it, and they turned. His blade cut straight through the sword and helm of one. A riposte sent a sword swinging away before the wielding lost ahead. Another lost their hand and then was stabbed through the heart. Three more came at him from two sides, but he dodged and thrust, and two more fell dead.


    Aras wiped his sword and drew his bow in one motion. Two shots sent two assassins falling dead from the rooftop.


    How?


    Felix was injured to one side, and William healed him, aching. Then he cleaned his blade on the cloth of an enemy''s clothes, sheathed it, and went back to healing people.


    "You draw attention to yourself, William Gabriel," said Aras with a laugh. "Though in a good way, I won''t be able to help you again at this rate. You have a knack for getting into trouble." He unstrung his bow, and began to clean his sword.


    "I accept the help you offered with gratitude," said William.


    The guards who had done nothing fled.


    They returned to the journey to the manor, and Aras went elsewhere. Even so, it was slowed by having to heal everyone. Drunks lay in the gutter, stripped naked, and beggers were on every corner. Still, at least the architecture was nice. The buildings usually had balconies out on top. You could see well-dressed people eating and discussing business. Iron fences cordoned off these areas, and many savory plants were grown to disguise the smell.


    William did not blame these merchants. He wouldn''t want to make a deal in this mess.


    There were also water pumps designed to pull water up from underground. Yet the water that came out was a filthy brown. All but useless. No doubt it would have to be filtered, and William decided to record it;


    The first thing you needed was a funnel of some kind. Or, failing that, a series of baskets hanging over one another in a line. At the base of it would be fabric, then a layer of charcoal on top. Above that would be sand and a layer of gravel or grass. There were different varieties, but the campaign used it all the time.


    You poured the water down through the base, and it filtered through. As it did, it left the impurities behind, little by little. It was a kind of magic that the dwarves had shared with humanity many ages ago. There were several competing theories over which combination of filters was the best.


    However, the best choice was to drink no water and stick to alcohol when possible. The fast-flowing river water was a better alternative since it filtered itself naturally.


    Even so, how had the water become so filthy? Some of it had to be done twice. Demons sometimes left this kind of perpetual shame, but that came from unholy magics. Even satyrs would keep the water supply intact.


    "So, has anything changed since last you were here, Felix?" asked William as they walked.


    "The men who have overdosed on Torbin''s Take are new," said Felix.


    William had studied the herb. It cleared the mind but sent you into spasms if you used too much. It had been discovered by Torbin Benarus when he''d been on campaign for Anoa III. He''d been trying to extract the King''s tribute from rebels. If memory served, Torbin''s men had been afflicted with a spell that made it impossible to think. Boiling the plant created a pleasant smell that relaxed their senses. The spell had passed, and they were able to beat the rebels.


    It would please Elranor to deny the criminals their prize.


    "Anything else?" asked William.


    A man, tired and hungry, was loading a wagon with heavy boxes. Lilas was standing there, writing notes and paying attention to the boxes. Then, one broke as it was placed near the bottom. A bit of grain streamed out. The exhausted man stooped to save it from the ground. Then, by meticulous and swift work, they patched it.


    The cargo was loaded.


    "Your pay is forfeit," said Lilas as though talking to himself. He should have looked up from his financial book. "You damaged the cargo."


    The workers slumped in exhaustion and said nothing.


    And he walked off, armed men, most of them red-haired, looking at them in contempt. William wondered how Lilas had not seen him clad in black skull armor. But he realized Lilas never looked at people if he didn''t need them.


    William was near the worst-off people. Lilas had never even looked in his direction. His association with them put William beneath notice.


    Well, it didn''t matter, and William nodded to Felix.


    Felix moved over to the men and offered them some coins. "Consider this: you''re due for helping avoid hunger across the continent."


    "Thank you," said the man. "How may I help you?"


    "Tell me of Lilas?" asked Felix.


    "Well, I''ve worked for him twenty years," said the man, mopping his sweat. "He came here with money from King Gavin, and we set up this business together. I moved cargo, and he directed people to me.


    ¡°Lilas played middleman with many businesses. He worked his way up, and I worked my way along. Eventually, he bought this place out and kept me on. I doubt he even remembers my name."


    "What is your name?" asked Felix. "It may be recorded?"


    "Robert Aldious," said the man. "Lilas has got a lot of money. But sooner or later, he will reach too far. The merchants love him."


    "My sympathies," said Felix. "Does Lilas have any hold over Rius?"


    "Lilas has a hold over people," said the man. ¡°And Rius doesn''t care how the taxes are paid as long as they are paid. And, like anyone else, he wants his cut.¡±


    The disrespect irritated William, but he said nothing as he finished and went on. Why was Rius not referred to by his proper title?


    "This is very bad," said Felix quietly as they walked away. "Rius is losing respect.¡±


    William said nothing and walked.


    At last, they came to the manor, a huge, white-walled, three-story house made of fine stone. It was built right up against the southern inland wall. Men were at the doors, clad in leather, and were not city guards. A beggar was dying by the door, and dogs were licking his sores.


    William healed him.


    "Here is the manor," said Felix. "Though these men do not seem like the normal kind."


    William nodded as he got there. The guards put their hands to their knives as he did. "Who are you?" Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel. I wish to speak with our longtime friend and ally, Rius," said William. "I am passing through his territory.


    "Make way."


    "Why should we?" began the guard.


    "Because I am a noble," said William.


    They looked at one another. "Let him in."


    But another held his shoulder, and he nodded before entering. A doorman came out past the doorman. "You are the son of Duke Vanion''s? I assure you that Baron Rius will be only too happy to cooperate with you. Come in." They went beyond the door into a cloakroom.


    "Master Hawkthorne has been here for some time already."


    "Hawkthorne is here?" asked William, remembering the name.


    "You do not know?" asked the doorman. "I had taken your presence and was here to meet with him."


    Someone took hold of William''s leg, and he looked down to see a woman unable to walk. Kneeling, he healed her.


    "Rise and be cured," said William. "If you''ll excuse me.


    "Reg Hawkthorne''s actions were taken with neither our knowledge nor will. I have only just learned of this."


    "You mean to say that..." The doorman looked to the door, then back. "I''ve said too much. You must follow me and stop for nothing. If Master Hawkthorne sees you, it might cause problems."


    "As you wish, though you seem to have more fear of him than your own Master," noted William. He healed a beggar dying by the door. However, even as he did, three more came to him. These, too, he healed, only to find six coming at him afterward.


    Word had spread of his deeds. And this was his reward.


    "Felix," said William. "Get the people I have already healed off the streets! They are forming a mob! Send them to find any sick or injured who cannot get here by their power; take them gently here!


    "Bring children and the elderly forth first! And will someone find some healers that the Guild wouldn''t dare touch," He looked to the guards. "You two, form a line and make sure no one cuts in it.¡±


    They pressed around him from all sides. The stink of plague and unwashed bodies was everywhere.


    And soon, as he fought to hold back the tide, men gathered. Hard men with weapons eyed him hatefully. Then, moving forward, they were stopped when Lilas stepped in. He spoke quietly and softly to them, and they departed. But William already knew what was coming, for he saw the flat rooftops above them. The perfect place for an archer.


    So, he kept himself somewhere where others would not be hit. And soon, an archer came upward onto the roof and drew back an arrow. William looked at him, and he hesitated for a moment. Hesitated as more and more people were healed in wave after wave. Was that a flicker of conscience on his face?


    Yet his eyes turned backward.


    And at last, he launched his arrow. William raised his shield, and the bolt struck hard. It pierced straight through wood and steel to go out the other side. What tortured this land? Jehair probably knew; no wonder she''d been so irritable.


    Another arrow was launched, and William caught that as well. The blow shook his feet, and he kept healing. Felix and the guards looked at one another. "William, get into the manor!"


    "No," said William.


    Another arrow fell as the tides continued. And this one nearly grazed his armor. Drawing his sword, he cleaved them off. Felix phased into the shadows as the bow was drawn back again. Up the walls, he scaled and was on the archer, snatching his bow and throwing him off the wall to land hard.


    William moved forward and found him, trying to limp away. But the crowds were on him, grasping him. William rushed forward. "No, let him go! He is in need."


    And he restored the man to health.


    The man stood up, unsteadily staring at him.


    "What is your name?" asked William.


    "Cassian of Sorn," said the man.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    "Who sent you?" asked William.


    "The Healer''s Guild, who else," said the man. Then he drew a knife and went at him, but William disarmed him with a hand and broke the knife.


    "Then go and sin no more," said William.


    The man stared at him as though he''d grown a second head. His mouth opened and shut. Then he shrugged. "As you wish."


    And he left. William turned back to the servant or where he had been. The man came back. Looking to the windows, he looked to Felix. "Did you see anyone looking out those?"


    "No," said Felix.


    Then the man came back. "Lord Rius forgives your delay and awaits your coming," said the man.


    William waited, adjusting his cloak as Felix took a position in the shadows by the door.


    "Well, it seems someone has been misusing House Gabriel''s good name," said Felix.


    "I noticed," noted William. "What do we do about this?"


    "Find out who it is, kill them all, and publicly display their executions. Then make it clear we have no association with them," said Felix.


    "That''s ruthless of you," noted William.


    "This behavior could ruin Duke Vanion if it becomes associated with him," said Felix. "And they''ve just tried to murder you in public."


    William looked around the waiting room, where people wore their coats and boots. It was magnificent, with silver-lined walls. Many fancy designs depicted no story made from priceless shells.


    There weren''t any religious images or tapestries on the walls. Nor was there any great story recorded. There were several pictures, and all of them were about food or material things. The most interesting was a ship sailing out to sea on a clean dock. There was a mournful figure at the end. The figure looked a lot like Father, with dark hair and a cloak, but his cloak was ragged and exposed to the winds. Yet he was unbowed by them and walked on nonetheless.


    He was not rich but with nobility and strength in his own right. However, William doubted that was the intended reason for it. It almost seemed an insult, perhaps to Rius.


    "If this is his coatroom," said Felix. "What may we expect inside?"


    "Since we won''t be getting past the coatroom," said William. "We''ll never know."


    Eventually, the door opened, and Rius entered, and William saw a glimpse of what lay beyond. There was a very large staircase with gold lining, and the walls were also lined with precious metals. Most of these precious metals were more expensive. There were one or two pictures, most of them of foreign Lords.


    Then the door was shut. Rius¡¯ head was bald, save for two sideburns, and his eyes peered at them carefully. He noted William''s armor and halted.


    William removed his helmet and nodded.


    "William Gabriel?" said Rius. "You are late."


    "Lord Edgar Rius," said William, considering what to say. "I apologize. It is my custom to heal the sick and injured where I go. It seems your enemies have ensured many of them, and a mob assailed me."


    "Such is the risk of handouts, I''m afraid," said Rius in a voice meant to be affable. But, in practice, it just sounded dismissive. "Though some reported that your House had a hand in this."


    "I knew nothing of what has been happening here," said William. "Once I learned of your plight, I came to assist."


    "I''m pleased to hear it, but you''ll forgive me if I''m skeptical," said Rius. "I wonder if House Gabriel does not forget where it stands among the nobility of Antion."


    "I believe I should be asking your forgiveness in this situation," noted William. Just who was Rius to dismiss Vanion as a vassal? ''What has happened here?"


    Rius sat down and put down a candle. A useless gesture since he was surrounded by light. "It started when Calishan Wars escalated.


    "A huge flow of mercenaries to come through here. Merchants also came with wares and supplies to sell at the campaign, and fleets of ships also came. People had put aside funds and stores solely to account for this day."


    "And then the war ended," mused William.


    "Yes," said Rius. "One moderate battle and the whole thing is concluded with a beneficial truce. It bankrupted many merchants and left many Crusaders with no purpose.¡±


    "But what about the Khasmir campaign? That lasted a long time," noted William, becoming annoyed. If Rius couldn''t keep order in his streets, he had no business whining to a fifteen-year-old. But this would be impolite to say. But that would not help. "And many warriors joined it. Even the Paladins took part, though it was after my departure."


    "Yes, but it was against demons," said Rius. "Vanion did not allow the looting of the people there. There wouldn''t have been a problem if he''d allowed Raynald to sack a few villages."


    "My cousin Varsus did the negotiating, I believe," noted William.


    "Yes, he did," said Rius. "He was very polite and didn''t leverage people nearly as much as he could." That was said almost dismissively. "But he refused to accept a bad deal and didn''t have to work with all that many people. Most of those he worked with ended up being those he had a prior relationship with."


    And among them was not Rius.


    And who was Rius to complain anyway?


    "The problem was that House Hawkthorne came up with an immense amount of money," said Rius. "Nearly limitless. I gather quite a few Bretusians moved finances in.


    "Pretty soon, they started buying out all the merchants, giving them loans in exchange for fees. I confess, I did some buying out myself. They needed the money, and having merchants under your influence is good.


    "Pretty soon, we had hundreds of mercenaries hanging about. Then Reg Hawkthorne came in.


    "He declares that he is here on behalf of House Gabriel and taking control. And that if I know what''s good for me, I''ll do as he says."


    "He can''t do that!" said William in horror. "You can''t walk into another man''s country and declare yourself the leader! Not without a cause of war or vendetta!"


    "My dear boy, I''ve found that you can do about anything if you are strong and someone else is weak," noted Rius. He sounded like he was trying to be sad. But his tone was superior, as though it was a triumph that it was so. "Life is not a story; you''ll find that out to your sorrow if you keep trying all these childish heroes."


    "That''s not the point," said William, mastering himself. "We don''t just have codes and rules because it''s right to have them! They are also for our protection!


    "If nobles ignore the rules of war and peace, others will also! There will be no order to any of it! Even if his plan succeeded, it would only work until the Paladin Order arrived to bring him to justice!" It occurred to William that Rius hadn''t violated any rules.


    This was, technically, his city to do with as he willed.


    ¡°That may be the point,¡± said Felix.


    "The slave speaks sense. Do you think Reg Hawkthorne is capable of a plan like this?" asked Rius. "If Reg gets total control of this city, sooner or later, King Andoa will hear of it. Then he''ll gather an army, take control of cheering crowds, and be the end of House Hawkthorne.


    "Who is the real mastermind then?" asked William.


    "You need to ask only three questions for that," said Rius. "First, who benefits from doing this? Second, who would be able to do this? And third, who would be willing to do this?


    "Once you answer those three questions. You only need to apply the remaining name that fits the plan best. So think."


    William considered the question and remembered his training. Father had taught him many such things. "This is not the sort of plan Melchious would use. The other Harlenorian Kingdoms gain nothing by gutting Antion. Calisha is vested in our survival; we''re the only ones who can negotiate.


    "Arraxia doesn''t have this kind of money, and her servants are satyrs. Most of the nobility of Artarq now have no choice but to remain loyal.


    "The gangs from Arsheen?


    ¡°Or the people backing them.¡±


    "That was my assessment as well," said Rius, too quickly for William to believe it. "Someone out there, William Gabriel, hates you a great deal.¡±


    "Felix, what of Jehair''s view on the matter?" asked William.


    "Don''t trust Jehair, not yet," said Felix.


    "Jehair and Amenos?" asked Rius. "I had wondered why they were there. Certainly, they have not had any part in the takeover.


    "We have to be very careful in how we approach this." What did Rius want his records for? William couldn''t imagine Rius looking through stacks of reports. Had he misjudged the man?


    "It''s the Paladin Order," said Felix.


    "Felix, that is ridiculous," said William.


    "Why?" asked Felix. "Paladins can go into any territory and domain in Harlenor without leave. Planting Reg here would be a perfect excuse to come in as a conquering hero. And also weaken House Gabriel. They could devise some excuse that justified it. Only the higher-ups would have to know.


    "They could just tell the lower orders they were here as liberators."


    "They would all be stripped of their powers by Elranor immediately," said William.


    "Would they?" asked Felix. "The Paladin Order is an important political entity in Antion, albeit one past its prime. Elranor has always taken a hands-off approach to governance. Given that most of the Paladins would not even know the details, on what grounds could they be stripped of power?


    "Perhaps whoever organized the operation might. But they might even be a Paladin, just some scribe in the background. Avoiding personal responsibility is the mark of all politicians."


    Rius laughed nervously. "Why don''t we put such theories aside until we leave this mess? Then, whoever is behind it does not matter if we all end up dead or ruined by them.


    "As a point of fact, I already have a plan.


    "I may not be much of a warrior, but you don''t survive in this port without knowing how to scheme." Common people had said as much, but it was a poor excuse from Rius. "The sheer audacity of this move took me off guard. So, I lay still and made all the motions of being completely cowed.


    "I''ve been waiting for him to drop his guard to make a move. That time has, more or less, happened, and I''ve been coordinating with my militia by secret messages." William noticed that in a potted plant was a flower similar to that of the inn. So Jehair was listening to all of this and had been.


    Did Rius even know what it meant? Did anyone?


    "My servants have yet to be nearly so well watched,¡± said Rius. ¡°You may have noticed a pink-haired girl named Imogen."


    "I did not hear the name, but I did notice her," said William.


    "Yes, well, she has a knack for hearing and seeing things and picking pockets," said Rius. "I''ve gained the numbers of his people, and I have an idea of his movements. I am in contact with my men and can order them to rise at will. The problem is that we are heavily outnumbered.


    "I tried to send a man to Brisgald, but he was turned back at the gates." Why? Did Uncle truly hate Rius that much? William had known they''d disliked one another, but not to this extent. "If you could get out to Brisgald and get help from House Gabriel, we might wipe them out. All my men would need to do is open the gates. I doubt you''ll find any resistance from the populace."


    Help from Brisgald? Rius'' solution to this problem was to invite a rival Lord into the city to reconquer it for him.


    Had Rius ever walked the streets? Or led men at all? This place around William was very ornate. Elaborate designs on the walls, and this was only the antechamber. There were solid silver candlesticks out here. How much money was there? Melt down a few of these treasures, and you could hire an army.


    Best to change the subject. This was Rius'' city.


    "What about the Furbearers?" asked William.


    "Ah, that," said Rius. "That is not a matter I had any choice in. Ascorn is neutral ground.¡±


    More excuses. Didn''t this man have a sense of responsibility?


    "Is that a picture of my Father?" William asked privately, thinking it must be more interesting than the others.


    "It was a gift from him," said Rius. "One must give gifts to the nobility of Antion after ascending a position. So when Desora was one, it was a choice between Vanion and Argath Marn.


    "I put aside my personal feelings and choose the more accomplished warrior."


    Meaning that it made him more money. Marn had given Rius many wondrous gifts for his help. Duke Vanion had received nothing.


    "Why aren''t these riches being used to equip your men outside?" asked William finally.


    "Antion learned long ago that the old obsession with violence is a liability," said Rius with a smile.


    Warriors were the principal backbone of Harlenor. The ability to fight was an integral part of their identity. The militia system set down by Anoa the Bright was Harlenor''s guiding principle. Men who could fight were not easily oppressed.


    "Who would you say is the best of the merchants?" asked William.


    "Well, that would be Lilas Acren, of course," said Rius enthusiastically. He makes an immense profit for us and always pays his dues on time. He always provides an ample table when visited and knows his place.


    "Your Father, as well." The last part was said almost as a warning.


    "Does one give more honor to a rich merchant than to your King?" asked William suddenly with more heat than he planned.


    Rius flinched and started thinking hard. "Well, King Andoa has rarely had much of a presence lately. And it can''t be denied Lilas has done good work. He would be almost a friend if not for class barriers.


    "He was a low-ranking noble seeking to rise by his means and has done so. He and Vanion are kin of a kind. I have a portrait of him out there. I can show it to you if we ever dine."


    "Who is the best of your warriors?" asked William. "Your counterpart to Lilas?"


    Rius seemed to consider that far too obvious. "Well, I don''t have much call to concern myself with warriors. The old campaigning days are long past." Now, he is invoking a successful career when he had been denigrating it. "Most of the great warriors prefer Artarq."


    There was nothing else to say.


    "Well, then, I will return to the city and investigate things as best I can," said William. ¡°It may be that we can find a much easier solution¡ªone that doesn''t require a full-scale battle. It may destroy our real enemies."


    "If you can provide me with such a way, I will be a very happy man," said Rius, pleased at his apparent victory. "Wars are always expensive, especially when they happen on my doorstep.


    "For now, I must meet some distinguished guests for dinner. You may eat with us if one of them invites you. It would not be appropriate for me to add another so quickly."


    "As you wish," said William. The idea did not appeal, but he must humor him. Declining or not offering such an invitation would be a grave insult.


    Rius went and left him there in the coat room. Felix and William shared a glance, and William shrugged.


    Rius finally came back in a splendid violet cloak, the color of royalty. It was adorned with diamonds, and his hair and beard were waxed. He opened the door. William followed him out, wearing armor filthy from labor.


    William would have to clean it soon, which would be miserable work.


    There were many wealthy-looking merchants. Many were in the halls of Rius''s home while Duke Vanion was in the coat room.


    William stepped to one side, guessing that he would be snubbed. He did his best to look expectant. To his surprise, there were a great many healthy commoners standing around in the dim hours of the day.


    "Ah, my friends," said Rius. ¡°There has no doubt been some trouble of late.


    "But I know that each of you has played a part in resolving it. Follow with me, and let us eat."


    All of the merchants walked past William without a second glance. Lilas was last, walking slowly and halted, apparently reluctantly. "I''m afraid the distinguished citizens of Ascorn all heard your story, Sir Gabriel."


    "That''s why nobody will remember their names," said William. And he made a note not to record any of them.


    Lilas flinched, and several of the merchants stepped back in fear. Cheers came from the crowds, and many threw rotten vegetables at the merchants. Many fled back as the crowd they had ignored now moved forward as if for blood. William drew his sword. "Hold where you are.


    "None will harm Lord Rius''s guests while they are under his protection! I will slay any who attempt it!"


    Rius nodded sagely as they rushed into the house. William watched them go and noted that Lilas was smart enough to keep his composure. After a moment, he turned and walked back in, nodding to him as though it had been expected.


    Smart.


    Lilas was decent at working for a crowd when he knew it was there. Which meant he was much more dangerous than William had thought.


    William turned to the people. "Disperse and make yourselves useful.


    "Plans are in motion, and you may have an important role in them."


    They nodded, and the supremacy of the nobility was saved.


    For now.


    Lord Rius had traded his birthright to become a mediocre merchant. Even though William saved him, he must despise him.


    "What inn do you want to stay at?" asked Felix.


    "We''re camping in the street when night comes," said William.


    "Why?" asked Felix.


    "It''s cheaper this way," said William.


    All this luxury among filth made him hate both all the more.

 Chapter Six: Old Friends

    Tanith had a bad feeling about this.


    The city gates on the inland side stood tall and proud, with clean white walls. But they were crumbling from loose mortar in some places, just like last time. And the shore was crawling with Babarassians. The fighting had been going on all day, and it was impossible to get a real count. By all accounts, the city was in chaos.


    Now, Kata and Tanith were busy getting the supplies they needed for a return journey. Difficult because half the usual areas for buying were abandoned. Eventually, she ran into a merchant named Lilas.


    And he''d been kind enough to provide what they needed for a reasonable price.


    "How did you get this grain on short notice?" asked Tanith.


    "By the skin of my teeth," said Lilas. "I''ve had to press my workers very hard to get anything out. With the chaos of Lord Rius'' helplessness, things are impossible."


    "That is not how you talk about nobility," said Tanith.


    Her anger at his stupidity had been directed at Relma and Arengeth. Mostly.


    "Forgive me," said Lilas. "I had to discipline several long-term servants of mine. It has left me ill-disposed."


    "Well, you have to keep discipline in the ranks," said Tanith.


    "Sir Gabriel knows a great deal about that, I suppose," said Lilas.


    "Of course he does," said Tanith. "William is true nobility. He might not associate with commoners much, but he lives to ensure their safety and well-being."


    "The commoner''s safety?" asked Lilas, raising an eyebrow.


    "Yes," said Tanith, explaining as she would to a child. "That''s how the feudal deal works. We protect, lead, and set a moral example. They follow and give us taxes. You should know this already; you''re one of us."


    Lilas nodded. "Well, I won''t keep you any longer. I''m sure you have a long journey ahead."


    Lilas had been taking her measure.


    Why?


    "Pay him, Kata," said Tanith.


    Kata moved forward and gave Lilas the agreed-upon payment. It had been a gift to her from the ship William had healed the injured on. That, as well as many of the grateful citizens of Ascorn. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Lilas opened his mouth to speak to Kata, but Tanith looked at him. He shrugged and nodded.


    "Good day," said Lilas.


    And he went off.


    So what had Tanith learned from that? Lilas had been helpful, but he''d told her nothing. No personal statements or explanations of who he was. Nothing other than the fact that he was a merchant and interested in learning about Tanith. He was around Duke Vanion''s age, so what did he want here? Was he nobility?


    "Keep your knives close," said Tanith. "This is one of their ships. You''d better have a couple of people ready with spears at all times.


    "Double the guard. Also, don''t go into bars; you''ll get eaten alive."


    "Is it that dangerous? They eat people?" asked Kata, eyes widening.


    "No, but this place seems a lot different than before," said Tanith. "I''ll find the supplies, stay here, and don''t let anyone near the ship. Something is happening here, and if you don''t have a strong front, you may get walked on." She turned to walk away.


    "Don''t you need the money?" asked Kata.


    "I''m going to have a look around," said Tanith. "We''re not shipping out until William is out of the city. Keep a guard up here and take nothing on faith."


    "We did in the Islands of Torment," said Kata. "A merchant who broke his word would never have business again. It happened to a few of Tavish''s associates who tried to fleece us." That was why Tavish made the move he did. Or whoever was backing Tavish?


    "Yes, but you have a smaller population," said Tanith. "And short-range boats. So, if you went around cheating people, everyone would know who they are. This place is filled with people who will never return after they leave.


    "When you deal with someone, always ask, ''What can I do to this person if they cheat me?'' If they are on the pier without the cargo and they demand the money, you tell them you want to see the cargo. Once you confirm it''s all there, you give them what you owe them and nothing else. They''ll count it out carefully if they''re smart.


    "Trust no one; verify everything."


    "How do you sleep?" asked Kata, curious.


    "With a beautiful woman in each arm, if I''m lucky," said Tanith, giving her a smile that made her blush. "Otherwise, I sleep at home. You can only feel secure when you have someone you can trust backing you up."


    "If you say so," said Kata doubtfully.


    "I''ll be back," said Tanith.


    Tanith made her way down the pier and out to the main dock, which was well-paved and had quite a few less sick people. Many of them had been going off looking for William since he started healing them. Which was fine with her, but she noted several men gathering. These were not Babarassians at all.


    They had skin like Harlenorians, but their features were less angular. They were more stocky, and they wore their red hair short. Most wore leather and spears. She remembered some of these kinds from the campaign. Bretusians, a group of men from another world. She''d had to kill a few for looting.


    Raynald had given strict orders. And while they had been good fighters, they''d been bad company. They tended to swear a lot and had little respect for class. Even men of their class. From the looks of things, after finishing in Khasmir. They''d come back here with the rest of the mercenaries.


    Clever.


    Naturally, they''d have merchant contacts to arrange all this. And the Babarassians were being used as a ploy to move in. No doubt they''d push Rius to appoint people or give them more power. So, kill them all and let the Gods sort them out.


    Tanith kept walking. As she did, many rough and ready men accosted her.


    "Get back, bitch," said one. "You''re not getting off this dock alive. You or any of those animals."


    Tanith was going to enjoy this. "Don''t be a fool.


    "I''m going to go wherever I want because I am a noble of Harlenor, and you are foul-mouth immigrants. Kata is my friend.


    "You have no authority to bar me." There were seven of them, all rough-looking. Why hadn''t they robbed Lilas blind? He''d been poorly guarded and holding a lot of money.


    "Our weapons are our authority," said the man.


    Tanith walked forward anyway, and they were on her with weapons. A few moments later, their blood was all over the streets, and her swords were back in their sheathes.


    One of them was still alive and gurgling.


    "Yeah, because another pointless fight is exactly what I need," laughed Tanith. She put her foot on his skull and crushed it. "You''re really lucky I didn''t get any of my blood on your tunic. I''ve got people to impress." She spun her swords to get the blood off.


    Everyone else stepped back nervously. Making sure to check behind her, Tanith moved toward one of the merchant''s inns. Most of them hosted merchants who supplied ships along the shore. As she did, however, she saw a familiar face.


    He had tawny brown hair and was clad in white. His eyes were wide, and there was an innocent look to him. A child ran by in front of him and tripped and fell. She started crying while clutching her leg. Tanith moved toward him, noticing a boy preparing to swoop in as he knelt by her.


    "Ow, my leg!" cried the girl.


    "Hold on, let me see," said the man. Why did she remember him? Either way, he healed the bruise. There was a middle-aged man in the alley, beset with sores.


    "Are you sure you should be doing that, Mr?" asked the girl.


    "Don''t worry about it," said the man. "A Paladin''s job is to help the needy. Go on."


    As the girl ran off, she snatched the Paladin''s purse. Tanith, however, caught up in a few strides, drew her dagger, and set it to the thief''s throat. "Give me the damn money, you little brat, or I''ll carve your eyes out!"


    "I''m sorry, I''m sorry, I didn''t-" began the girl.


    "I don''t care whether you are sorry," said Tanith. "Stealing from nobility is a severe crime. Give the money to me!"


    The girl gave the money back with a gulp. So Tanith removed her knife and stood up. "Now, get out of here. If you want to steal things that don''t belong to you, join a fleet and raid your nation''s enemies."


    They ran off, very nervous, and Tanith looked to the Paladin, who looked in surprise. Now she remembered him from the mission. She tossed the coins back to him. Several others were injured.


    Tanith thought about the sick man. Then she shrugged. He was a Walesan and probably an enemy. She had no healing powers, and obviously, Paladin had better things to do. If he was lucky, he''d run into William.


    "You always were an easy mark, Suran," said Tanith. "How have you been?"


    "Not in the habit of threatening children with knives," said Suran. Since when did he care so much about orphans?


    "You''re nobility, Suran," said Tanith. "Nobility of a foreign world, but nobility nonetheless. If you don''t stand for your rights, you''ll lose your rights." She hugged him and then separated. "Let this kind of thing slide once, and you fall off a ledge."


    "I could say the same thing about you," said Suran. "Is what happened in Gel Carn true?"


    "Depends on what you''re talking about," said Tanith. "Benarus was doing nothing while Telix was raiding his people." The man in the alley was listening, and it bothered Tanith.


    "You went over the local Lord''s head," noted Suran.


    "I lost all respect for him when he let his people get kidnapped by demons and did nothing," said Tanith. "Once he did that, the only bond we had was money. And he wasn''t paying me nearly enough to justify the disrespect I was getting."


    "You haven''t changed," laughed Suran.


    "Are you going to heal that old man?" asked Tanith.


    Suran looked up. "...There are always going to be the sick and injured. I wasn''t even supposed to be healing that girl. Unfortunately, there are too many people to help right now."


    "Fine, whatever, I don''t care," said Tanith.


    Suran seemed to feel the gaze of people on him. "We shouldn''t be talking here. It''s a long story, but I could use your help. You have a minute?"


    "Well, my mission is more or less accomplished, so why not," said Tanith.


    Suran led them down the street, and Tanith walked. Why hadn''t he healed the guy? He''d already drawn a crowd, so what did he lose by it?


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    "So," said Tanith. "Did you hear about the fighting?"


    Suran nodded. "I think we could use your help, then. My brethren and I were preparing to do something about... all this.


    "The truth is I was reluctant to do much healing for fear of certain operations. One or two people could pass under, but we could have a problem any more than that. Have you heard about the Healer''s Guild?"


    "Yeah, I know they were setting up operations. They haven''t gotten here, have they?" asked Tanith. The odd thing was that Suran was a bit like Lilas, like but unlike.


    "They''ve taken over everything. Technically speaking, it''s illegal to heal without reason," said Suran. "Though I don''t think this extends to noble privilege."


    "So do it anyway," said Tanith.


    "We have to keep a low profile," said Suran. "It''s a rule."


    Tanith didn''t believe this for a minute. "So why were you healing the pickpocket? That would have gotten you way more attention than some drunk."


    "I had a moment of weakness, and I didn''t see him," said Suran. "Once everyone was looking, making a spectacle of things could be bad."


    "Fair enough," said Tanith, who was rapidly losing interest.


    A beautiful elf maid with long, dark hair and a heaving bosom was sitting in a shadowy corner. She wore white garb. Tanith noted that she had a very slim waist and wide hips. She spoke in low tones with several other armored men and seemed the leader.


    Most bore the emblem of the Paladin Order, the symbol of two shining eyes. "Suran, you are here at last," she said, breathless. "Yet I note in your company one of the companions of William Gabriel.


    "What is the meaning of this?"


    "This is Tanith Telus, an old friend," said Suran. "We worked together at war with the Calishans. She wasn''t with William when I found her."


    Tanith sat across from the woman, noting a weather-beaten man beside her. "Suran and his men staged a distraction that drew off the Calishan army. They held out on a hill while we seized their fortress. When they saw Antion''s banner raised over the hilltop, they panicked. Then Suran descended like a hell fiend with his men and routed them.


    "I didn''t even get a chance to flank them before we were overrun."


    "Well, I wouldn''t want people calling me a hell fiend," laughed Suran, sitting down. He was always trying to be nicer than he was.


    "Well then, I welcome you to our company," said the woman. "I am Farwa Arenstar of the Paladin Order, and I am here on behalf of Lord Dunmoore. It is my great honor to have been given one of the first commands to elves in the order.


    "What business brings you here?"


    Were they giving positions to elves now? That was suicide. Something had to be done about this before a generation passed. "Chance mostly," said Tanith. "I was escorting a friend as he handled some problems. Some of them I created, so it''s the least I can do."


    "You refer to the incident with the dragon, Adrian Wrynncurth?" asked Farwa. "I have seldom heard of any dragon who has been a friend of man nor a moneylender. Wrynncurth is both, so I am certain you have your reasons." The other Paladins looked at one another, then at him.


    "You are too hard on him, Farwa," said the weather-beaten man. "Wrynncurth is in a difficult position. He survives by lending money; the more money is in a place, the more the wicked are drawn to it.


    "One who handles coinage will always get their hands dirty. That does not mean they are rotten at heart."


    "And who are you?" asked Tanith.


    "I am Aras," said the man. "A ranger of some repute.


    "I met your friend, William Gabriel, earlier. He has decided to start a fight in the best way. He began healing everyone he saw, and it was this that drew those Escorians to your location. I''m afraid things are now moving much faster than we thought." Aras, the name of the Prince?


    And he held authority here?


    "Farwa, can we avoid a war?" asked Suran in concern.


    "Probably not," admitted Farwa. "We''ll just have to curb needless destruction and make it turn out for the best."


    "The best could mean different things to come here," said Tanith. She looked at the fire nearby. Then she saw him;


    He had messy blonde hair and big, innocent eyes. He had a cheerful expression on his face and wore bright colors. He was talking to a long-haired redhead who looked far more emotionally mature than him. She endured his silly and eccentric explanations without complaint, and he amused her.


    All because he made her laugh.


    It was a new redhead to take care of him. Complete with a sword and quiver.


    Anborn.


    Tanith went for her knife and was caught by Aras as she meant to stand. "Why do you go toward your brother with murderous intent?"


    "You know why," said Tanith. "Unhand me."


    "I cannot allow you to murder your brother," said Aras.


    The redhead looked over to Tanith, who met her gaze, then relented. She had not heard what was said but now had a thoughtful look on her face. Anborn kept talking and eating greatly, but she was no longer amused. And then, at that moment, she realized the part he had in her and that he had it no longer.


    Standing up, she spoke a polite word to him and walked out. Right past another girl he''d had the same relationship with spiky red hair. Her hair was a touch brighter. Anborn looked slightly disappointed, then finished his meal and walked out.


    She''d kill him.


    "He is still young," said Aras, catching her hand.


    "He''s twenty-four," said Tanith. "And older than me. You should have let me kill him."


    "It would grieve your parents deeply," said Farwa.


    "Less deeply than you''d think," said Tanith.


    "Friends, friends, please!" said Aras. "We are here to discuss the problem of chaos in the streets.


    "I think we can leave one man late to mature for later."


    "Somehow, this is his fault," said Tanith.


    "Let it go," said Farwa sadly.


    "Judging from the number of armed Babarassians, I''d say there has been a takeover," said Aras quickly. "Someone has been orchestrating a series of conflicts here to destabilize Ascorn.


    "Perhaps to take power-"


    "No, for trade," said Tanith. "To throw the trade routes into further chaos. Ascorn is the most important port on this side of the continent. If it breaks down, transit breaks down. And with the early ending of the war, many people are out of work."


    "Whoever it was," said Aras. "They would need to be very rich. And also not nobility.


    "A noble would never risk the rebellions that could ensue; they are invested in the land. The Sornians might use such tactics. But they are preparing for a full-scale war in the Islands of Power. The Merchant Lord, Sen Kaba, did make a killing, purchasing weapons at a loss."


    "Escor doesn''t have time to play this kind of game," said Tanith. "Arengeth is hardly holding the place together. Gel Carn is a backwater with no pull, and Wrynncurth has nothing to gain. Everyone else is too remote to set this up without a contact to open the door."


    "Whatever the case, we have a serious problem," said Aras. "Lord Dunmoore is on his way as we speak. And this is not a cure better than the disease. Dunmoore is no fool but is used to a different kind of evil."


    "Do you think Rius will lose his position?" asked Suran.


    "It''s possible," said Aras. "Leaving a land unmanaged for a time is acceptable. Provided that land is well-managed in your absence. Rius, however, has been physically present and has not kept control. Far from it, he has profited by it tremendously."


    "In that, we may be agreed," said Farwa. "Happily, Lord Dunmore is en route as we speak. Our main task is to locate the usual areas of operation for the various entities. Then, we determine if they are criminals.


    "Our contact, Imogen, has identified them for us."


    "Can you rely on this person?" asked Tanith.


    "Well, she''s the Goddess of Thieves," said Aras. "So yes.


    "Imogen always sides against organized crime, though not organized criminals. But she only tells as much as she wants to. So I expect there is a great deal she hasn''t told us. In my experience, she is generally benevolent."


    "But can you rely on her?" asked Tanith.


    "I will vouch for her in this," said Aras. "She does not like large groups of criminals getting organized. Her preference is a more heroic kind of thief. The ones'' who steal fire from the gods. Or who steal from the rich and give to the poor. Often, she introduces herself as a childhood friend, which she is, in a way.


    "Anyone who has ever stolen sweat meats or seen them stolen knows it. Though, those of a more rustic kind rarely meet her."


    "Whatever the choice, the matter has been decided for us," returned Farwa. "I confess, this place has not impressed me."


    "Damning inditement indeed," said Aras, laughing. "I should hope to be able to produce one or two counterpoints."


    "We need to act as their ally. To set an example to give them hope," Suran halted.


    "I''d much rather just kill the reason I need hope in the first place," said Tanith, liking Suran less by the minute. She looked to Farwa. "And what are your plans now?"


    "Our purpose is simple," asked Farwa. "We open the gates when Lord Dunmoore arrives. From there, we direct him to all critical areas so we can liberate them.


    "You and others have until then to fix things."


    "We can handle the gates," said Aras.


    "Knowing Rusara," said Tanith. "Amenos might already have a plan and be putting his pieces into place. And William is sure to heal everyone he can.


    "You should seek out Amenos."


    "Are you sure he has good intentions, Tanith?" asked Farwa gently. "Dust Elves often use deception as a means to advance their goals. They have a sense of honor, which is not based on right and wrong. Rather on respect."


    "So what?" asked Tanith. "Everyone does."


    "I am more concerned about your friend William," said Aras. "He is trying to confront the corruption of the world directly. Thus far, that policy has served him well.


    "However, there have already been several assassination attempts. For his sake, I think we must fix things here and get him into the wilds. Jehair can lead him by the best paths. And it''ll be harder to send men after him then.


    "Will you take us to meet these Furbearer friends of yours?"


    "Of course," said Tanith.


    So Tanith ended up leading a force of Paladins toward the ship. As she did, she began to wonder about Aras and Farwa.


    "So, how did you and Farwa fall in together?" asked Tanith, looking to Aras.


    "A long story involving a chance meeting in a moonlight glade and very rash decisions," said Aras with a laugh. "I wish I could say they were happier days, but things were getting much better until now. Much of my effort has been tasked with preventing the world from sliding back.


    "As it is for many greater adventurers.


    "But everything ends, and now we are nearing the coming of the Heir of Kings. Or so many say. Our lot is now to ensure that the realm is sustained until they take up their mantle."


    "I don''t believe in the Heir of Kings," said Tanith. "I never have.


    "A man who has won a great battle can easily establish himself as a King. Old prophecies are a useful tool to do it."


    "Then you don''t believe Relma Artorious is the one," said Aras.


    "She''s a politician," said Tanith, remembering her. "She wants to make herself King, so she pretends to be this wonderful wide-eyed messiah. And she manipulates people around her to make that possibility come closer.


    "But she doesn''t earn any of her victories for herself.


    "They were won by others, and everything goes her way. Anyone with a problem with not getting paid for months of work is the villain. Just think about what all the miracles used to prop up that manipulative bitch could have been used for?


    "Why does she get the same reward as William from Elranor? She had a wonderful hiking trip up a mountain while William went through hell.


    "You can''t be a leader unless you''re willing to get your hands dirty. And she is obsessed with keeping her hands clean."


    Silence.


    "A damning assessment," said Aras. "Which tempers the accounts I have already heard.


    "Thank you. I shall reserve judgment until I meet her myself. Tell me of your vendetta with Argath Marn?"


    "He created me," said Tanith. "Trained me into what I was and then expected me to be something else. But I didn''t break with him over that."


    "It was over the Heir of Kings?" asked Aras.


    "No, for money," said Tanith. "I got drawn down to work for Benarus in a war. I spent a lot of money going halfway across Antion. The journey was hell, and I had to go through Blackfear.


    "Then I arrive and got stuck doing knife tricks for enough money to eat.


    "And when the battle finally arrives, Benarus denies me my payment. He tries to give me half of it. So I took all my men, left him to rot, and killed two black dragons when they came to arrest me. If all Benarus wanted was to be safely humiliated, I decided he could do it without me.


    "He is better than Rius, but that isn''t saying much."


    "Let''s not speak of a Lord in his city," said Aras. "Instead, let''s drink and go about our tasks."


    Tanith walked back at night and got back to the pier. She was pleased to note that Kata had kept her guard up. The Furbearers were well-armed now and had many weapons taken from their bodies. They had formed a barricade with a narrow opening. Four guards always stood with spears, and Kata was waiting for her.


    From the looks of things, they''d been fishing corpses out of the water. Now, they had set aflame to them, and more were being piled on.


    "Tanith, what''s going on here?" asked Kata, looking concerned. "Who are..."


    "These are Paladins from Antion; you don''t have to worry," said Tanith. "You can trust them as much as anyone."


    "We''ve sworn an oath to protect the innocent and-" began Suran. Then he became aware that Farwa''s gaze was on him. "Obey the authority of our superiors."


    Aras chuckled, getting a disapproving look from Farwa.


    "Who are you?" asked Kata, looking stunned to see Farwa.


    "My name is Lady Farwa of Qor''Danas and the rest of my brethren," said Farwa. "This is Aras, a longtime friend, and Suras, one of my subordinates. Who might you be?"


    "Kata of the Furbearers. I am near to royalty, or as close as we have in our systems," said Kata, shifting. "Tanith saved us alongside William Gabriel. Though I would know why you are here?"


    "We''re waiting for for-"


    "Amenos," said Tanith, as Amenos appeared quite suddenly. "How do you do that trick with the shadows?"


    "Tanith Telus, you are here at last," said Amenos.


    "How long have you been there?" asked Suras, blinking.


    "Quite long," said Amenos. "William has been speeding things up with his healing a little more than anticipated. Now, everyone is racing to try and keep up. And whatever side William is on will see many recruits.


    "But I cannot find him. I would guess he has been delayed in a part of the city I can''t access. My brethren and I have had some knife work to do."


    "Amenos, please tell me you know what is going on and that you have a plan," said Tanith.


    "Actually, yes. And I intended to initiate it shortly," said Amenos. "Lady Farwa, may I ask what forces you have available?"


    "Several dozen knights, each with their retainers," said Farwa. "Most of them are present here. All in various places. I am in command, and they are as bold and strong men as you will ever find."


    "Then you and I should speak," said Amenos. "For now, it is integral that the slaver operations be curtailed. The Babarassians hold many of them as strongholds, owing to a long association. Aras... I know of you. Will you accompany us?"


    "I will," said Aras. "Thank you. Lady Kata, you and your advisors should join us."


    Tanith didn''t know whether Amenos knew who he was or just wanted his opinion. It hardly mattered. "Kata, if you don''t need me, I''ll stand guard here."


    Kata looked at the Furbearer from before. He nodded to her. What was his connection? "Thank you, Tanith. We will not need you for this."


    At that moment, Jehair got back. She looked tired and was as pretty as ever. Tanith remembered that she''d fulfilled all her contracts perfectly when they were together.


    "Tanith Telus, you look as you did before. No scars or signs of wear," said Jehair.


    Tanith smiled. "More''s the pity."


    Journeying with Jehair had been nice. Jehair was not by nature a judgmental person, and the two of them had gotten on well. In addition, Jehair was very easy on the eyes, and the hides she wore clung to her hourglass figure nicely. William could not be in better hands. Wait, he wouldn''t end up falling for her, was he?


    No.


    Jehair was too professional and would not want him anyway. William was fifteen. No competition there.


    "Suran, can you and your assigned men handle the slaver compound?" asked Farwa.


    "What?" said Suran. "Me? But shouldn''t I help in the main battle?"


    "I need someone I can trust to observe things. Give them whatever help they need," said Farwa.


    "But what if-" began Suran.


    "Be patient, Suran," said Farwa. "Stay with the Furbearers and defend them. Make sure they don''t become victims of this place.


    "You''re not as far down the road to your goal as you hope."


    Suran nodded.


    "Yes, milady," said Suran.


    "I will accompany them and ensure all is done as William commanded," said Jehair.


    "Just make sure you don''t drag him into any more crisis," said Tanith. "William has never found one he wanted to stay out of."


    "I shall do as I can," said Jehair with a smile.


    They moved off quickly. At least it would be good practice.


    "Farwa, we should speak of our resources," said Amenos.


    They went to one side while Farwa halted. Tanith looked at her thoughtfully. She really hoped they''d have a real bloodletting soon.

 Chapter Seven: The Cleansing

    William had to make a plan.


    However, before he did anything, he had to heal people. Some woman had been beaten to a pulp and wouldn''t say by whom. And there were children covered in bruises. A few people had broken fingers that had been crushed by thugs or had lost eyes to people they owed money to.


    It just went on and on and he hated it. Rusara, William realized, had filtered who had been treated. Now, as he treated anyone who came, he could only wonder what people did to one another. Jehair had operated in this place and had been doing so for decades. What did that do to a person?


    No wonder Jehair had such a low opinion of civilization. William wondered what the elf would think of his actions here.


    Either way, William decided not to ask how people got their injuries. He just healed them and moved on.


    A few times, he was asked to enter houses to help those who could not come to him. He came when asked and afterward went to speak to the guards.


    "Excuse me?" said William.


    "Yes, who are you?" asked the man, eyeing him carefully.


    "I''d like to talk to you," said William.


    "About what?" asked the man, seeing the armor.


    "I''m from a concerned Lord in Artarq," said William. "We''ve heard the news from our sources about economic problems. Men have been forced off their lands. Mercenaries have been without work, all while merchants buy out their lives. I''m looking for more information." He wished dearly for a bath but had no time for that.


    "Well, I don''t know about merchants," said the man, looking down the street. "Me, though? I was a soldier in the Calishan Wars and fought in the Battle of Desora under Duke Vanion and many others. I came back here and found my farm had been stolen, and my family had been beggars. I worked as a caravan guard for a bit, but that wasn''t good money.


    "Eventually, Hawkthorne started hiring people here from caravans as they came in."


    "Did he say why?" asked William. So, Hawkthorne''s actions were common knowledge.


    "Oh, we all figured it was some kind of takeover," said the man. "In our business, though, you don''t ask that question. These days, all I have to do is stand on a street corner and watch merchants do their work.


    "It''s much better for my family; my wife was sick of moving. And my sons might be able to inherit something when I do. But the Babarassians are a group I could do without."


    "And Hawkthorne, what do you think of him?" asked William.


    The man looked to the others and back. He was not Harlenorian; he was an elf and looked disreputable. He had dark hair and was clad in green. His ears were scarred, and his eyes were narrow.


    "You''re a noble, so I assume you either want in or want him gone. Who are you, and what do you want?"


    "I''m William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel," said William. "I was just passing through, only to find this place under heavy guard with many well-armed men. So I went to Lord Rius, and he told me a story of Reg Hawkthorne, who is, unfortunately, an ally, taking over his city.


    "And doing so in my name.


    "I think you can understand why I am concerned."


    "Well, I imagine that means there will be some fighting," said the man. "More than usual, anyway."


    "Probably yes, though I''d prefer to avoid it," said William. "I can''t ignore Lord Rius being locked in his own home. Believe me; I''d much rather be heading down to the Tournament of Kings as I''d planned.


    "So, at the moment, I''m trying to understand what''s going on here from all perspectives."


    The men looked doubtfully, then back. His men seemed uneasy, and William took that as a good sign. "Well, that is decent of you, milord, but we don''t have much choice. Many warriors in this place came here to join the Calishan Wars. But they didn''t get to Artarq before it ended.


    "There are at least a thousand and three hundred by our count, though that changes daily. Some find work and leave the city; others die from the plague.


    "Reg ordered us to try to keep track of their numbers."


    "Is there a third group?" asked William.


    "Alright, yes, there is a third group," said the man. "Some of the men here are not soldiers. When I see one, I know a professional soldier, and they aren''t it. They aren''t knights, either. Knights are all about honor and glory; soldiers have discipline and pride.


    "These, though, like hurting people, and they''re not from Harlenor. They''re a bunch of thugs and mostly hang out on the docks. They''ve tried to rob merchants several times and break up local businesses. We wanted to intervene, but Reg stopped us. I''d say they''re the most numerous, at least two thousand in number."


    "Are they close to Reg?" asked William.


    "No, Reg mostly spends his time drinking and gambling," said the man. "Most of his paperwork is done by a slavegirl, a very pretty Calishan girl who we have yet to catch the name of. She is a go-between for the merchants and people who need to talk to him. Now and then, you see her rushing up to him with some assignment or other and asking him to make a decision.


    "We''re pretty sure now that Reg is a front for someone.


    "The brutes seem to be on hand for some other reason. At first, they mostly just levied fines on merchants for ''protection.'' But more and more have been gathering among them. As well as some priests, most of whom hang out at the Healer''s Guild and make contracts there. A lot of them have been shipping out, taking vessels north to Haldren."


    "Has the loss of priests affected their prices?" asked William.


    "No," said the man. ¡°The Healer''s Guild has a fixed price structure everyone must adhere to. Someone gives orders from on high, I guess. If you deviate from it, they kill you. A couple of local healers got forced into the guild. When they tried to give out some free healing on the side, they were found hanging from their doors."


    "Have you considered doing something about this?" asked William.


    The man bit his lip. "Well, there''s doing the right thing, and then there is doing the right thing. Our word is our bond, and we must honor it."


    "Was the contract with Reg''s handlers?" asked William.


    "No, just Reg," said the man. "Or so the word is. However, he has not been subtle."


    William decided to answer that with another question as a cart moved by behind him. "If Reg declared your contact fulfilled and went home, would you?"


    "Well..." asked the man. "We''d have to have a pretty good deal for that."


    William crossed his arms and shook his head with a sigh. "This contract is a deathtrap. Sooner or later, King Andoa will get word about what is happening. Do you think your forces here can withstand an entire army? Without the goodwill of the population. Reg will be killed, and so will you."


    "Why would he make a play like that if he didn''t have a plan?" asked a man.


    "Do you think it is his plan?" asked William.


    "Alright, so let''s say we''ll go along with this," said the man. "What''s your plan?"


    William wasn''t aware that he had become the scheming chessmaster. Given that he always lost at chess, this did not bode well. "Well, I intend to begin healing every person I can. Where can I find Reg?"


    "I don''t know," said the man. "But if you see a beautiful Calishan slavegirl in red, just follow her. Looks like a goddess. I''m Cacalan of Qor''Dana, but that was long ago."


    "Thank you," said William. "I had powerful companions. Whose side were you on?"


    "Well, I was with the Calishans who were to take Khasmir back," said Cacalan.


    "That was nasty business. We should never have let it get that far. The detestable practices of the satyrs opened the door to those monsters."


    "I''m sure they will have learned better defense henceforth," said William. "Some among them are great warriors with many virtues. Prince Kusher was a good friend and saved my life many times."


    "I''ll take your word for it, milord," said Calcalan.


    William shrugged and parted ways with Calcalan. When he found them, they could hardly move, so he gave them some rations. Few seemed to be going to the Healer''s Guild at all, so he spent his time looking for them. Occasionally, someone would ask him to come to heal someone in their home.


    The utter repetition of the task was miserable. He kept having to stop himself from asking what happened to a person. It wasn''t his business; he didn''t want to live with the knowledge. William did not know how these women and children got their bruises.


    He did not want to know!


    "William, Babarassians are here," said Felix.


    William looked up and, sure enough, saw them approaching. A man of perhaps twenty was at the head with a shorter beard. With him were others, and their clothes were better. However, several men with spears stepped before them, and their hands were set to weapons. "Stay where you are-"


    "Hold. Let them through," said William, not seeing much in the way of hatred. He moved forward. ¡°How may I aid you?"


    That was how it went. He healed everyone who asked and many who did not. William became more aware of himself and realized how many people he had healed. He felt his shoulders shaking as he walked, thinking of them all. Reaching up to his cheek, he felt tears dripping down his cheeks.


    Why?


    Why was he crying?


    And then he saw her.


    She moved past him very suddenly with wide, swaying hips. She was clad only in a short, split red skirt on one side, held up by a sash. Her toned, tan midriff and long legs were bared. She wore a cloth top that showed off her supple arms and large breasts. Her hair was tied behind her head in a braid, and earrings were on either side of her head.


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    There was something supernatural about her beauty, and people seemed to never be in her way. William immediately guessed that this was the woman the man had spoken of. He also realized his jaw had dropped. So he wiped the tears from his eyes. "Why is she dressed in such a way in public? It must be cold."


    "Follow her," said Felix.


    "I agree," said William. "That woman is a goddess, or I''m a fool."


    But following her proved a lot more difficult than William imagined. For one thing, she seemed to disappear into crowds. Each time, he''d find more people who needed healing that he had missed before. Then he''d see her again and pursue her again.


    As he began to catch up to her, more people in need came to him. It did not seem that she was slowing down or speeding up, merely elusive. Nor was there any real purpose.


    Yet, in the end, William came on her by chance, seeing her out of the corner of his eye. She was approaching an orange-haired man who was more than a little overweight. His eyes had a sullen look to them, and he was drinking. Babarassians were waiting near him, likely from Emile.


    "Master Hawkthorne, I''ve brought you something," said the woman.


    "And why are you doing it here?! I''m busy?" said Reg, looking suddenly angry.


    "I understand that, Master; however, I fear this cannot wait," said the woman. "If I were to delay in bringing it to you until you finished your revelry, I would be remiss in my duties." And she offered him a letter.


    "Let me see that," said Reg. He read through it. "This...


    "What the hell is this?"


    "I do not know, Master. I do not read your correspondence save when bidden," said the woman.


    "You don''t know much, do you?" snapped Reg. "Get a response written to Arkan, tell him-"


    "Master, not here," said the woman quickly.


    "Shut up!" said Reg before striking her across the face. "Fix this, now. You think I keep you around only for your neckline! Put some damn work in!"


    "Master, it may not be possible to do what you are asking," said the woman calmly. "We should not even be having this discussion here; if you return with me to the headquarters, we might-"


    "Do it!" said Reg.


    The woman nodded. "Yes, Master."


    "Worthless, ungrateful..." Reg paused. "Ah, to hell with it!" And he went back to drinking alone.


    William paused thoughtfully. "Rius is right on all accounts. Reg is a frontman." And so was Rius if something wasn''t done.


    "What makes you say that?" asked Felix with a laugh.


    "He was all drunk and confident until he got a letter. He didn''t have a problem with a slave going through his correspondence," said William. "As soon as he read the letter from Arkan, he became panicked and started shifting the blame on her.


    "That means he''s decadent and has no sense of personal responsibility. Nobody with those qualities could ever make it on their own."


    "You forget an important detail," said a voice next to William''s ear. He whirled around and found himself face-to-face with the slave girl. "He felt free to do this in the open, confident no one would stop him.


    "Why do you think that was?" Then she smiled. "I''m sorry, I cannot wait. Destiny waits for no man." And she passed him by.


    William decided she had to be monitored, especially since no one now paid her any heed.


    "Felix, go after her now. Do not let her out of your sight. She''s the one we have to keep an eye on. Meet up with me later."


    "As you wish," said Felix. "I''ll ask anyone I meet about your location."


    They broke off, and William hurried through the streets toward Jehair. As he did, he kept running into people who needed his help. Did this never end? The first time you healed a group of people, you felt a real sense of accomplishment. But you began to realize that no matter how many people you healed, someone would always be sick.


    So you just kept doing it, and it became ever more frustrating until it got easier. Even then, now and then, William felt the urge to look the other way. To not go down into an alley where someone was sick and heal them. But he knew if he passed the alley by, he''d never see them again.


    So he walked on. "All of you get somewhere safe quickly. I have reason to believe things may get nasty in the streets soon.


    "Those of you with nowhere else to go should go to the temples and ask for sanctuary. This is an emergency, and no time can be wasted on this matter. Go."


    "Thank you," said someone.


    William found Jehair, who seemed to have little interest as she sat on the steps. Her golden braids were falling down one side of her neck, over her ample breasts. Her scythe was at her feet, and her eyes were closed as if in meditation. Wondering what she was thinking, William halted.


    Then he noticed noticed a scarred, middle-aged man in the shadow. He walked toward him, wondering if he was sick. But the man from before stepped in front of him. "Hold up, please; this area is off-limits by order of the Paladin Order. I am Sir Suran."


    "I''m here on behalf of Lord Rius," said William, forgetting to introduce himself. "Now, please step aside. I am in haste."


    "And who are you?" asked Suran. "What''s so important?"


    "William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion, Paladin of Elranor. I''m a veteran of the Khasmir Campaign," said William. Who was this man to bar passage to an agent of a Lord in that Lord''s city? "Step aside; I have urgent business."


    "A lot of people fought in the Khasmir campaign," said Suran. "I''m not sure I can-"


    Jehair stood up and moved forward. "Hold on a moment, Suran; this is our ally. He is aligned with Amenos and Haldren. You need not fear him."


    Suran looked back and stepped aside. "Of course, Jehair."


    He stepped aside. William felt insulted and infuriated at having his path barred by a foreigner. He supposed his heart might be in the right place, but he wasn''t sure he trusted him.


    One didn''t trust a foreigner without sufficient proof.


    William looked at Felix and thought about how that attitude matched up with him. "Jehair, you''re here at last. I wasn''t expecting Paladins to be here."


    "Well, they were in the area, and Tanith Telus recruited them," said Jehair. "We''ve set off several plans early, and Kata has aligned herself with them."


    William looked to the other man, the one who was behind Suran. Could he have missed him? It didn''t matter. Moving forward, he kneeled and healed him. "Stand and be healed.


    "Are you a warrior?"


    "Yes, I fought in Khasmir and came back penniless. I got robbed," said the man with a bitter smile. "I''d complain further, but I don''t want to speak ill of the dead."


    "Well, I expect you could be of some service here," said William, drawing out a dagger. It was an expensive dagger, and he couldn''t easily replace it. "Take this. You''ll probably need something to defend yourself." Remembering that Khasmir was House Gabriel''s responsibility, he removed some silver coins. "And consider this belated payment for fighting the hordes of hell."


    Why had he given that dagger? And what good would the money do him? There weren''t enough coins in the world to feed the hungry.


    "Thank you," said the man. I''ll remember this. I''m Uther of Walesan, and I''m not from around here." William looked at him momentarily and saw that he was large, had an unkempt beard, and had graying hair. His eyes were desperate but had a kind of strange wisdom to them.


    "I need you to remember to get to the temple of Elranor," said William. And get anyone who doesn''t have a place to stay or hide there. Things could worsen, and someone might decide to loot the place in the fighting.


    "Though I don''t think it''ll come to that."


    "Right," said the man, and he hurried off. "I''ll see if I can get some of these children off the streets at least. Maybe seek some holy orders.


    "This land needs priests. Just like mine."


    William looked back to Suran, and another Paladin, clad in shining armor, was giving him an odd look. It was vaguely accusing, almost. One was far older than Suran, and one had a black beard. "You''re using your powers as a tool for your advancement," one said disgustingly.


    "And you are?" asked William as he healed another veteran.


    "I am Gavkin," said the man. "I am a Paladin of Bretus here to assist in this crisis on behalf of my friend Dunmoore. Such womanly displays of false compassion ill befit a man of noble birth."


    "Then I won''t keep you from your duties," said William as he healed another Bretusian in the gutter. He had no desire for a confrontation. "Let us each leave a man to their custom.


    "For we are both Paladins of Elranor and have been chosen to serve in different ways."


    "I will," said Gavkin before unslinging a hammer and moving off. As he did, he healed a beggar in a motion of rage as if the act was humiliating. Perhaps he thought of it as much. William had to admit he understood where he was coming from. If he''d been called in from another world and had to do this¡­


    Well, it would not have left him in a good mood.


    "Don''t hold it against him," said Suran. "Gavkin is a veteran of many wars. Things have put him under a lot of stress."


    "I don''t hold it against him," said William. "Everyone has been under stress. Jehair, what have you found?"


    "Well, all this seems the usual sort of civilized barbarity one ought to expect," said Jehair. "I''ve had a little better luck. Behind us is the slaver''s enclave, where their cargo is stored and ready for shipment. However, I have spoken to those who live near it. It seems that many of those who enter this place do not return.


    "At present, the doors are barricaded and locked. There was a lookout, but he went inside with a delegation. Several Babarassian leaders seemed to have fallen out, and some were left in a huff. A few ships had already left. They released their slaves before they did without causing the crisis. Others have taken the slaves with them.


    "Still more are making last-second sales."


    "Why would people who enter this place not return?" asked William.


    "There are several possible reasons," said Jehair. Priestesses of Zigildrazia have been much more common since the fall of Zigilus. They often practice child sacrifice. One which fuels their priests'' spells in stone circles within the woods. But that''s illegal, and they''ve been hunted for it, so a secretive source of sacrifices would be logical.


    "However, I suspect some of them are far darker than others. Do you not sense it, child?"


    William paused, looked up, and focused on what he felt. As he did, he realized there was a kind of darkness around here. It had not been visible on the surface, with the press and the pain of the diseases. But with many cured, William could now perceive the miserable horror within the place.


    "A blackness," said William. "Something is going on in there."


    "Do you plan to storm the place single-handed?" asked Jehair.


    "No," said William ." But whatever is happening here is likely connected to the other events. Jehair, I want you to stay here and ensure no one gets out of that place."


    "And where are you going?" asked Jehair, raising an eyebrow.


    "To work miracles and punish the unrighteous," said William. "The Healer''s Guild is the main concern."


    Suran paused. "So you''re going by yourself?


    "Let me accompany you. You might need help."


    "That won''t be necessary," said William, wondering when they had become friends. A moment ago, Suran had been hostile to him. Had he misinterpreted William''s behavior? sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Did it have something to do with Uther? Suran had barred his way but hadn''t seemed aware of the man. Perhaps some racial contempt for Walesans?


    "If you want to be of service, you can take Jehair''s place," said William. "I don''t think we''ll need four people to keep the place contained. As long as they don''t get the slaves out of this place, we can free them later."


    "Do as he asks, Suran," said Jehair, standing up. "I''ve someone to look out for. Besides, I am quite an accomplished healer myself."


    "Then why didn''t you heal anyone before?" asked Suran.


    "I''m neutral in the affairs of mortals," said Jehair as though she were a god. "Save insofar as my obligations require me to intervene, of course. My dominion is nature. Reducing the surplus population would solve more problems than it would cause."


    William laughed despite himself. "Well, at least you''re honest about it."


    At that moment, Tanith came by, and with her was a large force of Furbearers. They held spears, and Kata was at her head. She was wearing a Babarassian scimitar at her side, though it looked strange on her. Tanith brushed aside a strand of hair and hugged him.


    Ow.


    She was wearing armor, and it slammed into his ribs. She broke the embrace.


    "Will!" said Tanith.


    "Oh, Tanith," said William. "Why are you in such a good mood?"


    "I dunno, just feeling welcome," said Tanith.


    "I finally found you," said Kata. "And you''re here too, Jehair."


    "Kata, is all well?" asked Jehair.


    "Amenos and Farwa asked us to reinforce this place," said Kata. "They want us to assault it once some more men get here.


    "They''re afraid the slavers might be able to get their cargo out some other way. Or worse, execute them."


    "Well, don''t take it lightly," said William. "Most merchants go armed, and these men live in terror of their cargo. You''d better do it right away. Demand that they open the door, and give them time.


    "Give them ten seconds, and if they don''t open up, kick the door down and subdue everyone inside. You''ll have to be prepared to kill."


    "Is it necessary to slay these people," said Suran. "Couldn''t there be a better way?"


    "People who speak about their virtues usually don''t have many," noted Jehair. "Who would you have commanded us, William?"


    "You are in command, Princess Kata," said William. "If you intend to clear the door, I recommend the Paladins take the front while your people bring up the rear. You don''t have the same armor, and they have more experience and training."


    Then he looked to the others. "Tanith, Jehair, let''s go."


    Tanith pattered Suren on the back. "...It was nice seeing you again, Suran.


    "Keep up the good work."


    "Thank you," said Suran, not responding at all to the barb. "Sorry if I caused any trouble."


    William halted. "It is of no concern."


    Wonderful, yet more busy work.

 Chapter Eight: Breaking the Guild

    The odd thing was that nobody noticed what was going on here.


    Some people were getting off the streets, and the Babarassians were pulling out. Amenos'' people and the militia were organizing. Word came from Aras that the Babarassians were mobilizing.


    "So there''s going to be a real fight soon, I guess," surmised Tanith.


    "It seems less likely now," said William, healing a broken arm.


    Jehair, Amenos, and many others had been covertly speaking to many of them. According to them, quite a few companies had declared for Aras already. William loved to believe this was ideological. But he suspected it had something to do with many who still needed to pay their agreed-upon wages.


    "A shame; I like killing priests," said Tanith.


    William looked at her, wondering what had happened to her to make her like this. She''d never been the same since entering the Calishan Wars. Before, she''d been enthusiastic and energetic, but never this.


    "The bad ones, obviously," said Tanith. "Priestesses of Baltoth regularly oversee crucifixions. Some of them were men whom the guards had captured.


    "They died slowly, so she deserved what she got. Though killing some of the priests of Elranor would be nice too, they shame their order."


    "We are not discussing this," said William.


    On they went.


    As they did, William saw a three-story building rising high. Then he saw a child scaling the walls as he and Felix had done back in Carn Gable. A smile came to his face as he remembered scaling cliffs and many others. Of course, the boy was taking a risk by climbing the walls.


    But without risk, you could gain nothing.


    Even so, William was surprised at how good he was at this. Of course, he''d observed such negotiations, but always in a controlled situation. Yet now, he found he had a knack for it.


    At last, they came to one of the Healer''s Guilds outposts and saw it there.


    At the doors were several heavy-set men in heavy mail with metal helms. In their hands were spears crossed before the doors. A priest could be seen, but he was healing no one and was sitting at a desk, writing about his finances with a smile. Another was counting out some gold from someone who had been able to pay for treatment. Like many others, the sick and injured were disregarded for no real reason.


    "Get back, all of you!" said the guards. "Only those who pay can enter."


    "But we were told the healers guild was healing people freely!" said a person.


    "You heard wrong!" said the guard. "Nothing is free; now, get away from the door unless you have money!"


    "Enough of that," said the first priest, shutting his book. "There is more than one kind of payment." And he drew out another book. "Each of you will write your name into this book. You will all owe Coinfurth a service in exchange for healing."


    "Set down my name!" roared Tanith, drawing both blades. "And know that my service would be removing the blight you place on his name!" The crowds parted, and Tanith went for the guards.


    "Don''t kill them," said William as he began healing people.


    He should have started earlier, but he''d thought there might be useful information. Meanwhile, Tanith dueled both guards by herself, and they were quite good. Jehair also began healing people, though it seemed to have a different kind of power. There wasn''t any light in what she did, though that didn''t describe it. Nor did she lay hands on them or speak any words.


    It was as if she were looking busy.


    Either way, William soon had healed everyone in the crowd, pausing only to say a word as he moved on to the next. By this time, Tanith had thrown down the guards and had a blade to the priest''s throats.


    "You can''t do this!" said the priest. "I am of the Healer''s Guild!"


    "You are under arrest in the name of Lord Rius," said William. Then he looked at where several members of the militia were standing. "Take these men to Lord Rius immediately; inform him I sent them."


    "Right," said the man.


    "Who are you?" asked a woman.


    "I am William Gabriel," said William as he healed the last person. "How are there so many sick people here?"


    "This is a major port of trade," said Jehair. "And the Healer''s Guild has shut everyone else down with thugs." She looked to a plagued garment thrown by the wayside, and her eyes fixed on it. A look of distress went across her face.


    "Are you alright?" asked William, wondering why it distressed her.


    "Nothing," said Jehair. "It''s just a bad memory."


    "There were only two priests here," said Felix. "Where are the rest?"


    "There are other operations," said Jehair. "I''m surprised no one has tried to stop us; there does not seem to be any communication here. These operations must be very poorly organized. Worse than I thought.


    "And that is to our benefit."


    "All of you," said William. "You are healed, but there are others who have not been. Go far and wide and get anyone who needs healing here. Tell them where I am if they can walk, and carry them if you must. Those among you who know fighting men of good character, I will need your help."


    And they did leave. William became sicker and sicker in healing people by the moment. He''d never faced this kind of onslaught, and continuing to do it bothered him. What had the Bishop of Ascorn been doing?


    "Tanith, Jehair, stand guard," said William. "See if you can get any men who come to our side to help. And someone gets word to Amenos of what is going on here."


    "You realize the Healer''s Guild is going to send everything they have at us," said Tanith.


    "That''s exactly what I want them to do," said Aras, coming by with the troops. "They seem to have not realized the full extent of what is happening here. They are uneasy but realize how much things have turned against them.


    "They''ll hear what I am doing and may assume they can shut it down quickly. Our enemy is complacent.¡±


    But there was no time for any of them. Soon, he found himself in a repeat of the incident outside Rius'' house.


    "Where are they all coming from?" said William.


    "News of your efforts spread during the night into the countryside," said Aras. "People have been filtering into the city all this time to try and be healed. The Healer''s Guild is not a problem unique to Ascorn."


    That was when Lilas arrived, hurrying. He was mopping his brow with a handkerchief and looked worried.


    "Sir Gabriel," said Lilas. "I''ve come to meet you.


    "You should leave the city now. The Healer''s Guild has summoned its professional enforcers. I''m afraid you won''t be able to defeat them with a sword."


    "I appreciate the warning," said William, wondering why he was giving it. "However, I have no intention of abandoning my quest. You had best move somewhere safe before you are missed."


    "Thank you," said Lilas, looking unsteady. "But you are being very unwise."


    "If they intend to come this way, they''ll have to go through me," said Cassian. "I''ll repay my debt now."


    "As will I," said Uther, coming forward. He had the knife from before. "The Healer''s Guilds are cowards. They won''t dare start a fight if they think they can lose."


    "I thought you''d gone to the temple, Uther," said William.


    "No, lad," said Uther. "I tried to get the people to safety. But the Bishop of Ascorn, Joffrey, threw a fit. He had us thrown out by armed men for dirtying up his floor and even threatened to sell us for slaves.


    "I claimed sanctuary, and he said he''d kill me if I didn''t leave."


    "He''s right," said a child. "I was there."


    "This I can confirm," said Lilas. "Few things upset the church than having to attend to its responsibilities. I must go and report to Lord Rius." And he hurried off.


    "Slime," said Cassian.


    "Don''t judge him too harshly," said William. "He is only doing his job."


    "I meant Joffrey," said Cassian. "He paid me to shoot you."


    "What?!" said Aras.


    Silence.


    "Why?" asked William.


    "Joffrey makes a lot of money from the Healer''s Guild," said Cassian. "He has hired me before to kill off troublesome healers. You have to eat."


    "We''ll discuss the matter another time," said William. "You and Uther will keep the order as I heal. Again.


    "Felix will coordinate matters. Aras... can you help me?"


    "I''ll see if I can arrange some security," said Aras. "Be safe."


    And he headed off quickly.


    It was a warning.


    They came in greater numbers than William expected, and he guessed it was their full force. There were nearly fifty men armed with cudgels and knives, and the Bishop of Ascorn was at their head. His clothing was pure white, with embroidered gold and a tall hat. In his hand was a staff topped with gold and a white gem, but the expression on his face could not be considered fitting. He looked enraged.


    Also with them was a large contingent of armored men with spears and mail. Their armor was concealing, and they bore the emblem of House Rius, an open hand on a black background. With them was Gavkin, looking quite serious and melancholy. There were also many priests carrying clubs.


    Abruptly, he halted as he saw William. He and his men sneered noticeably at him, and he raised a hand.


    Then he saw almost a hundred rough and ready men looking at him in cold-blooded hatred. Some of them had been thrown out before and now had knives. There were Bretusians, Harlenorians, and even a few Babarassians.


    William healed the person he was working on and met him. William expected the Bishop would have had good odds if there had been serious fighting. But the men here had come to put down a vastly outnumbered Paladin. Not a determined and vengeful mob.


    As a result, a few of the thugs made a run for it. Then, a few more, all of them realized their numbers were dwindling. So soon, virtually all of them had sprinted away, except for the armored men. They sought to withdraw, but before they could, a line of men in shining mail blocked their path. Dust Elves appeared on the rooftops, pointing bows down.


    Silence reigned.


    But Joffrey looked almost demonic, and William wondered if he was possessed. "Traitors!


    "Kill them all!"


    Stolen novel; please report.


    No one moved.


    "Bishop," said Gavkin. "We were not granted to you by Lord Rius for that purpose. And even if you did give that command, we would ignore it. We''ve got archers above us and nearly a hundred armed men."


    What was going on here?


    It was as though the man was trying to make the church as repulsive as possible. This couldn''t be real.


    William heard laughter from some at the priest. "Silence! All of you be silent; let him speak."


    The laughter shut down. This man looked thirty but not thirty. There was a kind of agelessness to him, and his eyes were wrong. Empty and unbefitting his petulant expression.


    "What is this?" asked Joffrey.


    "I saw many people in need, and I helped them. Didn''t you?" asked William, surprised.


    Dead silence.


    Joffrey halted and seemed to shake off something, and he seemed almost human for a moment. "William Gabriel, I am Bishop Joffrey, the High Priest''s representative in this city. And you are under arrest."


    "For?" asked William.


    "You''ve broken the laws put in place by Lord Rius and healed without a license," said Joffrey quite calmly as if he expected William to forget his earlier orders. "You''ve also sabotaged the operation of legal businesses. You''ve interfered with Ascorn''s profitability. In so doing, you have disrupted the grain supply and threatened starvation."


    Cries of anger, but Aras raised a hand to silence them.


    "First of all," said William. "There was no grain supply when I arrived. It either hasn''t arrived or doesn''t exist. I saw only one or two instances of grain, which was by a former financier of King Gavin.


    "I expect you haven''t made any shipments in weeks. Second, there is almost always a backlog in ports for in-demand materials. Thirdly, you give me too much credit; this would have happened sooner or later to anyone. And thirdly, your orders mean nothing.


    "I am a noble and cannot be placed under arrest by you."


    "The order doesn''t come from me," said Joffrey, looking oddly professional. "It is from Lord Rius himself. He signed it earlier today." And he raised. It was as if two men had existed in the same flesh, and one had walked out to leave the other.


    William moved forward, grasped the contract, and came back to read over it. It all seemed perfectly legal, based on what he knew of Antion. "You realize my Father vastly outranks Lord Rius, don''t you?


    "Even if he did seize me, Raynald De Chevlon would descend on this city with an army.¡± He sighed. "Tanith, can you take this many?"


    "Yes," said Tanith. "More''s the pity; I won''t get the chance." She looked up at the archers.


    "These are Lord Rius'' guard," said the priest.


    "What of it?" asked William. "Are you willing to fight us?"


    "If you do not submit to the city''s judgment, you are no friend of Rius!" said Joffrey.


    The basic problem was that Rius and his merchant friends were wrong.


    They were wrong about the threat posed to them by the plague, about the lack of consequences for their actions, and about how the balance of power worked in this city.


    Most importantly, they were wrong about William. Did they seriously think he''d allow himself to be arrested as if he were some wide-eyed idiot?


    "You can get anyone''s signature at knifepoint when they are defenseless," said Uther. "Who held the blade? You''re fine friends who went to visit him last night?"


    "They might," said Cassian. "Many of them are former clients. I''ve done much worse for them, and they don''t care about anything but money."


    Cries of anger from the moment.


    "Silence," said Aras, drawing his sword. It was a magnificent blade and glittered like ice. "No mob will lay a hand on those under the protection of parley!"


    Parley then. So, this was now a battleground. Father wouldn''t want that.


    "As for a legal business, I have doubts about that," said William. "But even if both were true, we need to hear no lectures from you. I am of noble blood and an emissary of Elranor himself. You have no authority to arrest or judge me. And Lord Rius, if I must be plain, is not as accomplished as my Father."


    "But, for the sake of the law, I shall submit." Joffrey halted at those words, looking more human by the moment. "We all shall.


    "You may arrest all of us. We shall accompany you to the house of Lord Rius. Since you cannot carry all our weapons, we will keep them until ordered. It is the right of defeated men under parley."


    Silence. If they came before the palace with such force, Rius would immediately cave to Aras.


    "...It would not be fitting to take so many armed men before him," said Joffrey, looking back.


    "Then I cannot surrender to you," said William. "Please come back with a larger army."


    Laughter, but William did not feel it.


    "Traitors," said Joffrey, voice becoming like the monster from before. "Return at once. Return and plan our response. Our reply will come soon."


    He turned to walk away, but an old woman crossed his path behind her. Joffrey pointed to one of his men. "Execute her at once! She''s barred the path of a priest!"


    And before anyone could move, a soldier stabbed her in the throat. William moved forward to heal her, and the mob surged. But Tanith drew her swords.


    "Hold where you are! No man will attack them without an order!" said Tanith.


    And Uther and Cassian stood with her.


    William rushed to her and found her already dying. As he kneeled by her, the light of her eyes dimmed. His hand touched her too late, and he heard laughter. A low chuckle came from the armored guards.


    Gavkin looked around in wariness. "...Joffrey, that wasn''t necessary."


    "That peasant cut me off in traffic," said Joffrey with an unnatural caricature of a smile. "I decided I wanted her dead." He seemed to think he had won great victory, and the guards looked uneasily at one another. The other priests around him looked uneasy, and his eyes...


    They were dead.


    It was as if the souls had vanished from them. Just as the souls seemed to be gone from the guards'' eyes, who were they? What horrible thing had been undertaken to make this happen?


    Gavkin looked at them and fled, and some guards went with him as though rousing from some dark sleep. But the others laughed louder; they weren''t laughing, and their mouths weren''t moving. Several people threw themselves down and screamed as Joffrey smiled wider.


    "Then that is the standard you will be judged by," said William.


    His voice was not his own.


    There was an authority in it. But the priest smiled and walked past him with his men following reluctantly. "Come, let''s leave the peasants to their rutting."


    Some priests looked at Joffrey in horror and fled from his side to where the others were. Yet most of them laughed at it, fingered gold necklaces, and praised Joffrey as they walked off. William could not hear the voices or make out the words, but they hurt to listen to.


    William stood up. Something unholy was in this city or on this land. This was not mere corruption. Turning, he saw the priests before him.


    "Forgive us, Lord Elranor," said a priest.


    "If you seek forgiveness, ask it by taking up your left duties," said William. "Put yourself at the service of Lady Farwa. Help her with whatever she needs.


    "And give the dead a burial."


    "I say we kill the Bishop and his cronies," said Cassian.


    "Vengeance isn''t going to do this city any good," said Uther. "His like always come to a bad end. We just have to contain the rot until they burn themselves out."


    "Well spoken," said Aras, leaping down from the roof. "Let there be funeral rites. And more healing, since there is no end to the need."


    So it went.


    The woman had been named Kala. She had no family; apparently, she had been a beggar who lost her sons to plague. Her husband to war, and her parents to starvation. Her line ended with her being murdered by the priest responsible for it all. Joffrey had not done his job, so her sons died of plague.


    Ham Hawkthorne had known all this, for he had given her a silver piece and gotten directions to a bar. He had drunk himself into a stupor and wandered the streets while beating muggers up. Vaguely interested in the prospect of a fight, Ham had rounded the corner unseen.


    He had seen the woman and thought he might thank her for direction. Then Joffrey''s men slashed her throat, and she fell, dying to the ground. Ham had watched as the old woman fell to the ground, unknown and unnoticed. So, watching, he thought he could heal her.


    But he was not a healer.


    She hadn''t even been seeking vengeance. The priest had killed her for cutting him off in the street. Then, without even knowing who she was, he''d murdered her because it was the nastiest thing he could do.


    Or was it to hurt Elranor?


    William wondered what her name had been. But it didn''t matter anymore.


    But to Ham, it did matter.


    That smug bastard, the priest, walked off laughing after taking everything from her. Ham would pay him out for this, the self-righteous bastard; he''d pay all these corrupt priests out. Just as soon as he''d had enough alcohol to drown the pain.


    So he wandered off, but he remembered his promise.*


    "Well," said Aras. "The gauntlet is thrown now. Some darkness is moving about here.


    "Something that I''ve sensed before but never been aware of. This bears further investigation; I must speak with Farwa and pray. All of you should pray as well."


    "Tanith," said William. "What would you recommend?"


    "If I were you," said Tanith. "I''d say finish up here and leave the city unseen, which is impossible at this stage. So, failing that, kill every single one of their men, then kill them."


    "...Who is them?" asked William, unsure who she was talking about.


    "I''m working on a list at the moment," said Felix, coming out of the shadows and writing some notes. "I thought you might want to know; I got another offer to betray and murder you. They''ve been coming in with increasingly grandiose offers."


    "Another?" asked William, continuing to heal. ¡°This has happened before?¡±


    "I turned them down," said Felix, blinking. "Why do I have to inform you whenever someone tries to bribe me?"


    "This has happened before?" asked William. "Why don''t I know about it?" It was unreal how quickly it had almost forgotten the shadow he had seen in the priest. William wondered if it had been real, so he quickly wrote it down in his book.


    "I usually discuss it with Duke Vanion," said Felix. "I assumed you knew."


    "What was the promised price?" asked William, finding it surreal.


    "Does it matter?" asked Felix. "How much of a price would you put on your integrity?"


    "I see," said William. The bodies were burned in a pyre while the priests said last right. William wished he could mourn them. "Give me their names."


    "I have a list right here," said Felix.


    "Is this the sort of public discussion we ought to have?" asked Jehair.


    "It concerns them," said William to the people. "I might have to destroy some of these people. That affects their lives." William halted his healing, took it, and read over it. Then he folded it up and put it away.


    For his part, William went into the building and began checking for financial records. Finding the books on a desk, he put them into his pack.


    "Anything else?" asked William, healing more.


    "Well, I have a report," said Felix. "That slave girl you sent me after has some very extensive records she minds on behalf of Reg. She sits in the office like she owns the place, though the guards sneer at her.


    "I took several notable pieces.


    "Including these;" He offered a letter.


    William read it.


    "Reg,


    "What possessed you to allow Dust Elves to enter the city? Now Rusara has agents out here and may spread discord among your men. You had best do more to ensure they are made properly loyal.


    "I have given you a city to do with as you will. If you endanger our operations, I will not deliver you. That port must be maintained if the shipments are to be made to other lands. I will not be providing you with the troops you have requested. My operatives are busy on the King''s Road leading up from Gel Carn.


    "You have a debt.


    "I expect repayment in one kind or another. I hope you understand what I mean, for your sake.


    "-Dinis."


    "Dinis?" asked William. "That far away empire? Across the islands of power?"


    "I do not think anyone would dare use that name in that Empire," said Jehair. The Emperor may, but he does not affix his seal lightly, let alone for something like this.


    "No, Dinis stands for Neral Dinis.


    "So it seems," said William. "What about the guards?"


    "They were Emile''s Babarassians," said Felix. "They let me right in as promised. He had a great deal of pull with them. All of them released their slaves, though I think they had already sold most of them to the compound.


    He mentioned other fleets of Babarassians. Either way, I expect they will give us Reg."


    "They have been very cooperative," noted William.


    "They''ve made money here," noted Felix. "And they''ve probably gotten the sense this place could be more stable. Getting out is smart, and assisting you helps prevent a Crusade from coming after them later.


    "It''s all very pragmatic.


    "But, we''ll have to fight some of them."


    William looked at another letter.


    "To the esteemed and newly established Lord Reg,


    "While I rejoice in your good fortune and success against all foes. However, you have put yourself in an inconvenient position. The sudden ascension to power you have arranged for yourself has disrupted my plans.


    "It is also, technically, treason.


    "I would be very interested in knowing what made you think you could get away with this stunt. My agent shall be along shortly to discuss matters. If Lord Rius has been harmed in any way, our discussion shall be much less pleasant.


    "-Arkan Lantan."


    A pause.


    "I''ll give Reg credit," mused William. "He did think of setting up countermeasures by bringing in the Babarassians. That makes removing him harder. But it''ll also make more people want him dead at the end of this."


    "What are you talking about?" asked Jehair. "Tavish set that up. He presented the option to Reg, and Reg took it without question."


    "Reg was a dead man by the time we arrived," said Tanith. "Even if his side wins, they''ll probably rub him out to tie up loose ends. And if the conflict escalates, he''ll be the first one dead. He''s the perfect scapegoat." S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Either way," said William. "We¡¯ll have to try and save him. It is time we got to work.


    "Tanith, go meet up with Kata and take some men to reinforce her. I want you to assist the militia however we can.


    "Jehair, you and I will go to Reg''s headquarters. He is now the only man who can stop what we have done. So he must be taken out of play quickly. Felix, go immediately to Lord Rius and tell him that victory is at hand.


    "Let''s go."


    Reports came in of other Healer''s Guild operations being taken. There were guards killed, and the priests held hostage. One after another, it seemed the Guild needed to prepare. All of it had happened too quickly, and their muscle was now against them. The battle had begun, a battle William neither desired nor sought.


    But it would have to be fought in one way or another.


    Would this never end?


    And what was that shadow William had seen in the bishop''s face? How had it taken hold of the priests?


    *This passage is not of my writing. During my time in the Tournament of Kings, Varsus, Reginald, and Ham provided me with accounts. These have been interspersed where appropriate so that proper credit should be given.


    My initial meeting with Ham seems to have been at the darkest point of his life. I wish I had been kinder to him. Especially since he was the part, it would have been best to have acted.

 Chapter Nine: Battle in the City

    William was tired.


    He felt like he had been on his feet for a year, and it was only the second day. Kata and some other people had taken a bit of time to clean up the streets, and it was safer now. Aras and Farwa were fighting a string of battles to gain victory.


    William got stuck healing people as usual.


    All the more because there was almost no resistance. Now and then, he saw signs of scrapes, but they only lasted a minute. And soon, the militia was all over the place as he worked his healing magic and moved to meet Reg Hawkthorne.


    It would have been very tense if he had come here before his adventures in Khasmir. But as things stood, it wasn''t much more than a mediocre extension of that. Only here, the enemy was all but beaten. It was more like healing after a battle; only the idiots in charge hadn''t put the wounded in neat rows. And he was constantly being waylaid to heal even more people.


    He always felt obligated to do it, and then some more, and he made comforting words he did not feel at all.


    It did not seem this trip to Antion would be very interesting. It had all been so mind-numbingly boring so far. William had expected to be walking through the green fields in the city beyond by now. But Jehair seemed to think it best to walk in the woods to be eaten alive by insects.


    Walking through the empty streets. William saw that now that the people were gone. Indeed, the street was still filthy. People had worked at this one repeatedly to try and wash off some of the grime, but only the first layer had come off.


    Looking at Jehair, William wondered why none of this interested her.


    "How long must we wander this place like witless cattle?" asked Jehair. "Other greater events may be to the east." He didn''t blame her.


    "Jehair, may I ask something of you?" asked William.


    "Of course," said Jehair quickly.


    "Who is your god?" William asked. "Is it Laevian or some other natural spirit?


    Jehair smiled at him, and there was a sad tinge to it. "You do not know her, but she has known you for some time."


    "Really?" asked William.


    "You burned a field of her flowers in Seathorius," said Jehair. "She is the Flower Maiden."


    William considered whether this might make traveling with Jehair more dangerous. She was likely preferable company to some in this port, at least. "It was trying to devour my companions."


    "Of course, it was," laughed Jehair. Why was she laughing at that? She did not seem to regard those dying as worthy of pity. "The Flower Maiden holds no grudge against you for it. It was what drew her attention to you. All creatures desire to survive."


    "And who is she?" asked William.


    "She dwells within the Ghost Mountains, in the Road of Ancient Stone," said Jehair. She now seemed more herself. "Yet her power stretches far across the land. She bears much of the life that ensures Antion remains perpetually fertile."


    "A subordinate of Laevian then?" surmised William.


    "In some form," said Jehair. "Though she is not of Laevian. She was brought into existence to fill the hole left by the Incarnation of the Land. Yet she is not like him; she is one with nature and feels all the earth''s and sky''s pains.


    "Those pains have increased a great deal of late.


    "I am bound to her as is this land.


    "But it is not worship exactly. We should focus on the matter at hand."


    William had gotten the location of Reg''s main area of operations from Emile. Moving to it, he found it was a large, two-story mansion, much larger than Lord Rius''. At the gates were many Babarassians who were standing guard. All while others were some ways off near a side door.


    "So, you''re here then. Good," said Emile, standing up. "I was afraid we would come under attack. No one has any idea who the sides are or what. And this is only after my people are leaving.


    "If we''d still been there, this city would probably be in flames."


    "You''d have burned it?" asked William.


    "No," said Emile. "But our opponents were united by hatred of us. Removing us has thrown them into disorder. Tavish created the balance of power to keep us in check.


    "I had taken it for a precaution.


    "I see now we were set up. All the gates are sealed, and the Paladin and Dust Elves have seized every messenger."


    "Is Reg within?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Emile. "I told him we are here for his protection. That is more or less true. More than a few gangs of thugs have come by with spears. And several groups of citizens came with torches.


    "If we had not doubled his guard, I think he would be dead."


    "And his slave girl?" asked William.


    "What of her?" asked Emile. "She is within."


    "I suspect she is far more than she appears," said William. "Reg does not strike me as one who could have kept even this situation in hand. It may be that someone beneath notice did all his decisions."


    "Well, it is a Harlenorian problem now," said Emile. "I am going back to the colonies with my men."


    "You don''t seem too upset," said William.


    "Babarassians do not make permanent dwellings," said Emile. "Our colonies are designed to enforce our rule of the locals. We do not mingle much.


    "A few colonies have grown much larger in the Islands of Power. But most are simply trade posts. Although I admit, the ones we set up on Haldren must be well guarded."


    "Then why do you leave at all?" asked William.


    "A person needs new experiences to wish," said Emile. "What you desire is formed from what you do abroad. Drawing new things into Babarassia is necessary for the realm of Jazra to fade.


    "War, terror, pain, and suffering are how one grows. But enough.


    "We must get to our ships. Farewell. And mind the side door.


    William nodded as he left. "Felix, go to the side entrance and find out if anyone is going out there. Jehair, you are with me."


    Jehair adjusted her scythe as William came to the door. It was a large, square, red one that was distinct near the white walls. Here, William opted to knock politely. He waited a moment and heard hurried footsteps ascending a flight of stairs. So William shrugged, drew his sword, and spoke. "Open in the name of Antion!"


    Then he smote the door. It cracked and bent on the hinges. Then another blow shattered it as William moved into the main hall. He saw a reasonably humble place with no needless gaudy showings of wealth. There were one or two candlesticks of silver, but it looked humble.


    A maid was a little way off, working content while humming to herself. So William guessed that Reg was only abusive in public. Why?


    However, she turned and blinked. William saw a staircase leading up to one side, and he saw an open door ahead of him. Moving along it, he was pleased to hear someone being grabbed.


    "Jehair, after him," said William. "Give Felix any help he needs."


    "Why did you break that door?" asked the woman. "Master Lilas had it carved in Qor''Dana."


    "You didn''t open it," said William. "How much does it cost?"


    "I wouldn''t know," said the woman. "I''m just paid to clean up until Reg gets overthrown. Everyone knows it will happen sooner or later though Farah is nice. A pity she''s probably dead."


    What was wrong with everyone in this city?


    William hurried up the stairs, which were very nice wood-paneled ones, turning upward. Beyond, he found himself in a hall. One of the doors was partially open, letting a bit of daylight in. Moving to it, he saw an office with bookcases that were practically spilling. A tinged window was looking out over the street, very wide indeed. And there was Farah on the ground in a puddle of blood. She had several cuts on her, and the side of her top had come off her shoulder. Her throat was cut, and she was gargling.


    William kneeled and healed the injuries. He''d healed many bruises in his time, most of which were nasty and vicious. Injuries were not neat and often gave you aches and pains to last a lifetime. His body had several scars, most notably over his eye. So he kneeled and healed her anyway before helping her up.


    There was no sense in showing his hand. "Are you alright, Farah?"


    "Yes, I am, Master," said the slave girl. "And I am Farah, yes."


    "I am not your Master or your owner," said William, hearing sounds of a struggle. "And seeing as one who was both has left you for dead, I imagine you belong to no one."


    "I wonder if he would see it that way," said Farah.


    "Whether he does or not, I am here, and he is not. So why would he try to kill you?" asked William, leading her from the room.


    "I kno a lot," said the girl. "I think he fears my testimony. He tried to burn his finance books and demanded I get them. But, well, I tried to convince him he should give you everything and hope for mercy.


    "He didn''t take that well.¡± A slightly haunted look was in her eyes.


    William drew off his helm. "My sympathies. Follow me, and I must ask you to stay where I can see you."


    She smiled and swayed before him. "You''re clever for a paladin, I see."


    Then, the girl passed through him as if blown by the wind. William felt something and whirled to see what went beyond. Yet there was only a stark wall of stone.


    He found Jehair, Felix, and Reg downstairs, moving down the steps. Reg''s outfit was a mess and was covered in many vines from nearby plants on the wall. Felix had a black eye and looked in a foul mood.


    "Did he injure you?" asked William.


    "Capturing someone alive is a lot harder than killing them," said Felix. "We gagged him to shut his screaming up."


    "Felix," said William, healing him. "Don''t gag nobility without direct orders in the future, though. Take it off."


    "As you wish," said Felix.


    Reg got the gag up, released by the vines, and started screaming. "You can''t do this! I''m one of the Hawkthornes! We have friends at court, and if you don''t back down, they''ll-"


    Jehair put a knife to his throat. "Shall I dispatch him for you?"


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Pull the knife away. It not our place to do so, but Lord Rius'' place," said William. "It is his city, and he is the one who dispenses justice. Although, he may be more lenient if you provide us with some of what we need.


    "Felix, go upstairs and check the records. Find all documents and books and look for everything about this fiasco."


    Felix nodded and went up.


    Then William turned to Reg, who was rubbing his neck. "Who are you working for, Reg? Who made this plan?"


    "I made it myself," said Reg.


    "If you had the ability and resources to initiate this plan, you ould not be here," said William. "If you tell me everything you know and more, I may be able to get you lenience. If you don''t, then many people will want you dead. You have to make yourself useful."


    "You can''t touch me!" said Reg. "I''m nobility, and my family have-"


    "Lord Rius could hang you in a heartbeat," replied William. "And he might do it at this rate. Your family would be unable to do anything after the sheer scale of what could have happened here.


    "They''re going to use you as a scapegoat."


    "You have no idea who you''re dealing with! I work for House Gabriel!" said Reg.


    Did he...


    William had yet to formally introduce himself, and he and Reg had never met. Reg didn''t know. "I am House Gabriel.


    "More to the point, I am William Gabriel, and I assure you that this operation was done without our knowledge. Your actions could doom us even if I thought my family would keep secrets.


    "I am trying to save you. But I can''t do that if you keep spitting defiance for a master who set you up to die."


    Reg looked around. "I have the run of this place.


    "Or I did before anyone else came by. Nobody else had the guts to take command, and Rius wasn''t doing anything."


    "Then why has it slipped out of your hands so quickly?" asked William. "Did you honestly think killing a slave girl would save you?


    "Your Master, whoever he is, wants you dead before you can reveal information. Who approached you? Arkan? Tavish Kern? The Babarassians? House Marn? Neral Dinis?"


    Reg hesitated and looked around. "I took loans from many people to do business ventures in the Islands of Power. With the war in Artarq, I thought Sorn would do good shipping. When the Calishan Wars got bad, Harlenorian merchants traded through Qor''Danas and Sorn. They can still do business.


    "They''re neutral middlemen.


    "But they ended too quick, and the Khasmir Campaign wasn''t a sea battle. So I lost almost everything, and I was in debt. Then, um..."


    "Who did you take the loans from?" asked William.


    Reg looked around. "...A front, nothing official.


    "But it''s one of the De Chevlon''s places. The real De Chevlon''s, not the humans, the vampire clan. It was Neral Dinis."


    "You made deals with a vampire?" asked Jehair, tone shocked. Why was she shocked? She had to have seen this before. Unless...


    Did she have some enmity with Neral Dinis or House De Chevlon? Why would she have contact with Raynald, then? Was it because he was an outcast in his family?


    No, Raynald could have arranged it through Rusara.


    But why take the job if she was at cross purposes? Unless there was a very real reason, she needed to accompany a noble to Gel Carn. A question for later.


    "Business is business!" said Reg. "And you make deals with demons. And who the hell are you to talk? You''re an ally of House De Chevlon, too!"


    "What was your plan here, exactly?" asked William.


    "I thought I''d make a profit, and we''d all profit. They had good rates," said Reg.


    "Who set you up with this?" asked William.


    "Neral Dinis," said Reg. "He''s one of the older ones and handles most of the off-the-books stuff."


    "Neral Dinis?" asked Jehair, very cold. "Are you sure it was him?" She was worried.


    "Yeah, I met him before. He''s a very feared figure in the right circles," said Reg.


    William considered things. "And who are these right circles?"


    "House Hawkthorne deals in all circles," said Reg, now gaining a bit more confidence. "We give people the services they''re too high and mighty to handle themselves. Girls, gamblings, choir boys.


    "Hadn''t you heard?"


    William considered things. "And how did it come to this? How did you go from debt to this?"


    "Well, after the failure, they came to me with an offer," said Reg. "They said they wanted me to help them with something. They said Rius was causing problems for House Gabriel and De Chevlon. So they needed someone to take over.


    "They said that person could be me."


    "And you believed that?" asked Jehair incredulously. ¡°You don''t put a failure in a position of power unless you want him to fail. Or, if it doesn''t matter if he fails."


    William motioned for silence. "Where did you get that slave girl, Farah? How does she fit into this?"


    "Why do you think I killed her," said Reg. "She''s the one that recommended the investments that got me into this mess! I thought I''d lucked out when I found her on the market, but she was the one who brought in the Barabassians.


    "She said...


    "She said that if we offered to convert the city to their religion, they could act as a counterforce. We''d play them against the troops Neral set up and grow our strength. But they cut deals with the Healer''s Guild and others, and pretty soon, they were ignoring me.


    "Most of them, anyhow. And she was the one who went to all the meetings. So I think she hates them and hoped they''d be wiped out."


    William had a chance here. "Who leads them?"


    "Sultan Suleman, he''s not here," said Reg. "He''s been running merchant fleets down here for years, though not usually in this harbor. But all his operations are out in Babarassia and on the shores of Dinis. All of the fleets go through individual captains.


    "The closest one to being in charge is Omar, who is scheduled to arrive here soon. Mostly, he''s been using a go-between named Emile."


    "Through who?" asked William.


    "House Kern," said Reg. "Tavish is the bastard son of the Lord there. Tavish has been using his finances this whole time."


    "I was given to understand that Lord Kern has a legitimate heir, Edward," said William. "Where is he?"


    "Back home, running operations in the lands of House Kern," said Reg. "The Lord himself has a lot of jobs doing dirty work for King Gavin. I heard they were planning something recently."


    "Convenient," said William. "How many ships do the Babarassians have?"


    "A few dozen ships or so," said Reg.


    "Do they go inland at all?" asked William.


    "They might, now and then. They have auction houses," said Reg.


    "Didn''t it occur to you that the Barabassians might view you as weak?" asked William. "And see your reign as an opportunity to prepare for mass raiding? Or even a full-scale invasion?"


    "What do I care?" asked Reg.


    "You set yourself up to die when you struck a bargain with Neral Dinis?!" said Jehair in clear contempt. "It is right that you hang!" Something had gone seriously wrong for Jehair. She must have some investment in all this.


    "Jehair, stop," said William. "Can''t you see the man is cooperating?"


    Jehair stepped back.


    Reg and William shared a glance. He looked to Jehair, then William and William understood it at once. "Why this?"


    "I couldn''t get a loan any other way," said Reg.


    "What about your nation?" asked William. "Our customs, our culture, everything it means to be Harlenorian?"


    "It doesn''t matter to any of these people," said Reg. "The only thing that matters is money and what you can buy with it. Everything else is just lies."


    "And how much money has that belief made you?" asked William simply.


    Reg was silent.


    "What was he transporting? What did Neral Dinis want to be shipped to Haldren?" asked William.


    Reg shrugged. "Malas, a lot of it. It''s been shipping in through smugglers from Antion for weeks."


    William considered this answer and realized how serious it was. "Only a select few organizations are allowed to buy malas. And no one except the Sorcerer''s Guild is allowed to transport it. Only Magicora has similar rights in Escor."


    "And I guess you think the Sorcerer''s Guild are many nice guys?" asked Reg with a sneer. "You don''t have a clue, do you, Gabriel? What, do you think, the entire world consists of knights in shining armor? Nobody cares about your rules or regulations so long as you can''t enforce them.


    "A lot of that malas landed on the Sorcerer''s Guild''s docks and went straight here. Some of it went out into the streets, too. You should be thanking me for shipping it out, or everybody would see your house''s failure."


    "Why was it heading to Haldren?" asked William, ignoring the bait. Reg was blustering and didn''t know.


    "For distribution! Don''t you know anything?" said Reg in exasperation. He seemed infuriated at the lack of response. "Why else would somebody send it over there?


    "It''s an addicting substance; the criminals have lost markets, and they want to send it here."


    "Surely, the supply has diminished," said William.


    "Yes, but they''ve got other sources," said Reg. "Malas isn''t that rare.


    "And it''s very profitable; if criminals don''t make money, they lose their heads. Bribes and tributes to bosses aren''t cheap. The Sornians asked for a piece of the action and got some. House Suvvest. Kaba and Magnious stick to the legal fair."


    Jehair looked to William. "Distributing the malas first to Haldren could be done first. Followed by distributing it to Antion.¡±


    "Maybe," said Reg.


    "A better question," said Felix, returning with a book. "Is why would Gavin want to hide it from you?"


    "Or he may merely believe that we''d sabotage his efforts if he did inform us," noted William. "Either way, it does not matter." He turned back to Reg, who seemed to be listening. "Why were you in communication with Arkan Lantan?"


    "I was uh..." Reg halted. "I''d brought in the Babarassians and hoped to call in him for support. I figured if they were wrangling with each other, they couldn''t take me out."


    "They would kill a noble?" asked William.


    "They might," said Reg. "Once they do it and nobody can do anything, the nobility are done. They''d probably do it through one of the nobles in deep. Call it a blood feud or something, though.


    "Arkan likes things tidy; nothing can be connected to him. I was offering it as a repayment of a debt."


    "How is he connected to Neral Dinis?" asked William.


    "Well..." Reg seemed to be thinking and didn''t seem to know the answer. "I don''t think he is. I mean, uh, Arkan does run with a lot of slavers. So that makes the competition.


    "I figured I could play them against each other and create so much chaos that I could get away with it all."


    "Well, you did a decent job of that," said William. "Your reign would have lasted until an outside power wiped everyone out.


    "How influential is Arkan?"


    "Absolute and nonexistent," said Jehair. ¡°Arkan''s association with virtually everyone is unofficial, but he has a piece of virtually all the action.


    "He''s a kind of criminal King."


    "Still, Arkan does not outrank Neral Dinis in power or nobility," said William.


    "What can you offer me?" asked Reg.


    "At present?" asked William. ¡°I can take you to Lord Rius and recommend leniency. Direct him to all your accounts and any relevant records. He can no doubt use that to regain power.


    "Other than that, when I journey out of Ascorn, I can suggest leniency."


    "Rius is a frontman," said Reg. "I took this place over easily.¡±


    "Yes," said William. "But the Paladin Order is propping up as an alternative to Arkan. I don''t think he''ll execute you if you fully cooperate. Rius will be as concerned about losing everything as you. Other than that, it''s on you."


    "Is Farah dead?" asked Reg.


    "No," said William. "I healed her, and she is in the room above."


    "She knows too much," said Reg.


    "No one will listen to a slave," said William. "All of her credibility came through you. You don''t have a problem if you reveal everything to Rius and ask pardon.¡±


    Reg halted. "Alright, but when I do after I get out?"


    "I would practice with your sword and find some way to restore your name," said William. "There are a lot of out-of-work soldiers. Perhaps you could find some way to get the land."


    "That could work," said Reg. "But it''d take a lot of money."


    "You could suggest the idea," said William. "And then get a position working at it. Whatever the case, you are free to go. Run to Rius, take your accounts books, and reveal everything to him.


    "It''s your best shot. If you try to disappear, they''ll probably just kill you."


    Reg nodded. "Give them to me.


    "Is it alright if I don''t mention you sent me?"


    "I don''t care what you mention," said William. And he offered him the books.


    "Thanks," said Reg. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Reg headed off right there and then.


    Felix paused. "William, if I might speak of matters above my station?"


    "Of course," said William.


    "Reg Hawkthorne has proved himself to be a contemptible human being," said Felix. "His arrogance and reckless stupidity have endangered all of Antion. In addition, he has demonstrated precisely no remorse for his actions. He only regrets he was caught in the trap of his own making.


    "It is likely that after serving his function, he will delude himself into believing he got the better of you. Given how easily manipulated he is, he may be useful as a proxy for your enemies.


    "To have him running free would prove that House Gabriel cares nothing for justice.¡±


    William was surprised at the statement; Felix wasn''t usually so verbose. He saw where it was going. "What are you suggesting, Felix?"


    "I suggest that we need Reg Hawkthorne as a witness," said Felix. We don''t need him after that."


    "This conversation is over, Felix," said William. "No true noble would ever willingly stoop to simple murder. Is there any other possible option?


    "Father hates the very idea of it. We deal with this honorably or not at all."


    Felix stared at him with a raised eyebrow. "...You''re doing an excellent job with the messiah act."


    "I mean it," said William. "And anyway, we are agents of Lord Rius, acting on his behalf. He''ll want to decide what to do with Reg anyway. It wouldn''t be proper to assassinate someone in that situation.


    "It would be akin to murdering a guest on the doorstep.


    "If Rius wishes to spare him, that is his business.


    "If he wishes to ignore all common decency and go the way of Baltoth?


    "Well, that is also his business." William halted. "Felix, give the maid some money in compensation for the scare.


    "And we''ll also have to arrange compensation for Lilas'' door. Perhaps we can ask Rius to pay for that since this was his mission."


    "That seems appropriate," said Jehair.


    "Let''s go," said William. There will undoubtedly be still more sick people to tend to."


    "You are a good man," said the maid.


    William looked up, oddly touched by the statement. "Thank you."


    And he departed without another word. Things were finally going somewhere.

 Chapter Ten: Afteraction

    Many things happened over the next few hours. William was involved in virtually none of them.


    All of the warehouses and ships still in the dock were raided. Warships filled with crews were dispatched to shadow the Babarassians who left. Several battles were fought between the ships. Uther and Cassian proved very effective warriors.


    It was a wonder Rius had needed his help at all. A bit of leadership would have prevented all of this. But then, leadership might be in short supply.


    Reg had not been heard from.


    This worried William.


    Still, it was Rius'' city.


    In the meantime, William continued his miserable task.


    Now they sat in a meeting within Lord Rius'' manor, Tanith and William on opposite sides, nearest to the head. Rius was there, hands clasped together, looking very noble. Jehair and Amenos further down. There was also Lilas, who had been tasked with chronicling the amounts that had been stolen.


    "Should not Farwa and her Paladins be brought in?" asked William.


    "I am quite certain you can represent them well enough," said Rius. "You and they are of like mind."


    "I am not an official member of the order, Lord Rius," said William, uncomfortable by the statement. "I would not feel comfortable doing so.¡±


    "Bishop Joffrey has been called away for important business," said Rius. "And has taken several prisoners for his consideration."


    Prisoners?


    Did that include Reg? Would it be wise to ask?


    "Is Reg Hawkthorne among them," said William.


    "That is not your concern," said Rius with a smile. "It was you who failed to find him, after all. Now, Tanith Telus, I believe you were chronicling reports. I shall hear yours before Lilas."


    Tanith stood up and saluted. "Our documentation analysis confirms much of what Reg said. We''ve captured the workers of the Healer''s Guild, those still alive. The priests have renewed their normal duties. We''ve also found documentation of businesses that knew of this.


    "They assisted in shipping in troops covertly in exchange for certain favors. The slavers were one of them. We stormed all those merchants whom the documents confirmed to be complicit.


    "Those Babarassians who did not leave when warned were killed for cargo. As commanded by Farwa, they were freed and fed before being handed over to Princess Kata."


    "And why was this?" asked Rius, eyebrow raised.


    "Kata''s forces are among our allies," said Tanith. "A condition of their arrangement was freeing all slaves in areas raided. As we have needed manpower, it was decided not to push things."


    "Well, perhaps we can reclaim the property later," said Rius with a smile.


    William said nothing. Lilas noticed it and smiled.


    "With respect, Lord Rius," said Tanith. "It would be more beneficial to have good relations with the Furbearers. Most of those who own the slaves have already crossed you. And if Kata does reestablish a state, even a diminished one, she''ll owe you a favor.


    "The Babarassians fought to the end or took their own lives rather than be captured. A few of them tried to kill the slaves, or so some of the slaves say, but they died of a sudden plague. Laevian owes the Furbearers a favor.


    "Something divine has been pulling the strings here. Maybe several somethings. They want the Furbearers restored."


    "In my experience," said Rius. "Matters of the state usually operate separately from the divine. Bishop Joffrey understands that well, as you will have to learn."


    Was he saying that in front of a crusader? A Paladin and a man who had to be on good terms with Barden to live? William glanced with Lilas and then at the pictures around the meeting hall. It had a high ceiling adorned with much finery but had never been used. The pictures on the wall were very rich.


    "Is that a statement befitting a man of your position, Lord Rius?" asked William.


    "Life is not an epic story, I''m afraid," said Rius. "It''s best to find that out now rather than later. These Furbearers are useful, but continuing to support them will become inconvenient.


    "Inconvenient people don''t last very long in Ascorn."


    And Lilas was convenient.


    This was worse than William thought. Someone had to be kept here.


    "Anyway, we enslaved the workers in the Healer''s Guild, the ones we didn''t kill. We intend to force them to perform their duties for free," said Tanith. "As you ordered, we also moved into the surrounding villages to capture who we could." She was professional about this, wasn''t she?


    "There is a problem, though. I keep getting reports of outbreaks from local villages. Usually, diseases have spread very far to the villages beyond them. And seeing as we''re only catching it now, it might be nationwide.


    "I had some non-corrupt priests draw up a list of common ailments. Some of them have malas sickness, others some nasty stuff. I think the Healer''s Guild has made fighting diseases much harder. In addition, many ailments that show up occasionally have gotten out of control.


    "It''s a paradise for Laevian. William, you might want to get right on that and fast."


    "I''m sure we can see the plague later in the discussion," said Rius. "There have always been plagues in Antion. It is an unfortunate reality that bears no real discussion or novelty.


    "Lilas, you have financial reports for us." Financial reports on the health of his population?


    "I do," said Lilas.


    This was where Rius would acknowledge William''s efforts. But no acknowledgment came, and Rius went on to other subjects. Lilas explained losses and ways to easily recoup them.


    "I expect we will see a total loss in slaves this shipment," said Lilas.


    "Any sign of the Paladins?" asked Rius, too eagerly. Why them?


    "Well, they are coming," said Tanith. "We saw some of their advanced scouts. But they seem to regard the plague as less of a priority. To be fair, when you''re on campaign, you don''t send troops into places you know have the plague.


    "If you must get supplies, you want to do it indirectly. Dunmoore has many non-Paladin troops."


    "Very well," said Rius, obviously frustrated. "Let us call it justified caution and leave the matter at that."


    William had spent two days doing nothing but healing people. Some acknowledgment of it would be in order.


    William waited expectantly.


    Tanith seemed annoyed by this but let it pass.


    "And what of the defecting militia?" asked Tanith. "The defecting soldiers have been impressed into the local militia. However, we haven''t ironed out a real chain of command besides you being in charge. They will be expecting payment sooner or later. Mercenaries don''t work for free.


    "Keeping people idle for a long time is bad for everyone."


    "Is this from personal experience?" asked William, remembering why he had come here in the first place.


    It wasn''t something she noticed.


    "Benarus kept me at low pay for a lengthy period after I spent a lot of money getting to him," said Tanith. "I watched him letting commoners get snatched from their beds repeatedly, and he didn''t give a damn.


    "As long as his precious nobles didn''t get scuffed, he was only too happy to leave the country to rot. He just called Arengeth while Adrian Wrynncurth ran roughshod over him."


    "It was Telix that did it, was it not?" asked Rius.


    "Telix was Wrynncurth''s subordinate," said Tanith. "If Wrynncurth wasn''t keeping him in line, he was responsible for what it was doing. So I wiped out one of his people to force him to back off and force Benarus to do something."


    "...A word, Tanith," said William suddenly. "If you''ll excuse us, Lord Rius. There is something that cannot wait."


    "Of course," said Rius.


    William took Tanith by the hand and took her into a side room. Tanith was surprised. "William, what is-"


    "Tanith, nobody has said anything to you on this," said William in a low tone. "But it needs to be said; You could have started a war and destroyed our relations with Antion."


    "What," said Tanith. "you mean in-"


    "No, not here," said William. "In Gel Carn. Whatever your reasons are, your methods were abominable. It also did a lot of damage to House Gabriel''s reputation and played into what our enemies say about us."


    "What was I supposed to do?" asked Tanith. "Let Benarus run his country into the ground."


    "Benarus managed to resolve that situation without your help," said William. "If you felt action was needed, you could have tried any number of solutions. Hunting wolves, for instance.


    "Instead, you killed a black dragon and forced Gel Carn into a nearly unwinnable war. And I don''t mind telling you that you would be dead if you hadn''t been my closest friend."


    Tanith recoiled as if struck, and Rius looked at her, then William. She almost looked like she was about to cry, which was wrong. "William, I... you wouldn''t..."


    "Wouldn''t Father?" asked William. "Wrynncurth has a legitimate claim to your life, Tanith. Denying him cost us a lot of political capital. Would a no-name mercenary receive the same protection?


    "You''ve been invaluable since, but your attitude needs to change.


    "I don''t care if you enjoy your work a bit more than most people. You saved my life in Khasmir and the lives of many other people. But we can''t have a repeat incident of this. You need to take responsibility and check this bloodlust that drives you. It''s going to get you killed."


    Tanith paused and shifted. "I uh... alright. I''m sorry, I didn''t... I didn''t think..." Her voice choked.


    "Compose yourself," said William. "Give Rius the necessary information and nothing else. I need you at your best."


    Tanith did, and William was surprised at how badly she was taking this. Either way, they went back into the meeting room and sat down. "I apologize, Lord Rius. Certain matters had to be clarified."


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    Rius looked at Tanith, and a strange look came into his eye. William considered what it meant. Was he thinking of recruiting Tanith? "Well, to pick up where we left off," said Rius. "Benarus'' overreliance on Arengeth is a whole separate matter."


    Had he heard?


    It didn''t matter.


    "What about the populace," said William finally. "The people of Ascorn have been through a very traumatic period. There has been violence in the streets, a breakdown of trade, and a small war. To say nothing of the plague and-"


    "We''ve all heard your story, my boy," said Rius.


    This was outrageous.


    "We''re not talking about my story," said William. "We''re talking about an armed and well-trained population. They will look for someone to blame."


    "Of course they will," said Rius. "This brings me to another subject;


    "What shall we do about Reg?"


    It was obvious Rius had no respect for William, so he sat down. "I would not presume to question you on the matter."


    "You''re learning," said Rius, who was not learning. "As for Reg, I shall keep him here as a prisoner for now. I will grill him for all the information he has on House Hawkthorne and their associates. And he will spend the rest of his time here in the darkest pits of my dungeons.


    "He will be under heavy guard until I have a use for him. I''ve already dispatched letters to all the nearby places. But I have not stated Reg''s fate. If someone inquires, I shall know who is most concerned.


    "That will go a long way to determine who my enemies are.


    "Even so, I do not think he knows anything more than can be deduced from his finances. Perhaps less. We will gather further information and find our enemies. We''ll determine who they are and their motivations. And their resources and amass the strength to deal with them.


    "And then, at the moment, that is most opportune...


    "We strike." He smiled at William. He knew nothing, or he already knew everything and wasn''t going to do anything about it.


    Reg was being kept here to be used as a scapegoat.


    "Reg Hawkthorne is nobility," said William, trying to keep the shock from his tone. "Are you going to torture him?"


    "That barrier," said Rius. "Can be circumvented in this situation, I assure you."


    "But are you going to torture him?" asked William. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "If necessary, yes," said Rius.


    You didn''t torture nobility.


    You didn''t torture anyone; it was useless for interrogation. Rusara had taught him that. But if Reg might be, after cooperating...


    "Why not declare what happened? Accuse House Hawkthorne," said William. "This is more than just enough to demand reparations. And we can spare Reg that way."


    "Patience until the opportune moment arrives is the key to all victory, William," said Rius. "Your Father understands that, though he has made a few mistakes in positioning. Win your battle too soon, and the enemy will adjust their plans and strike from another angle. Win it too late, and your enemy will be too strong to stop.


    "We could easily accuse House Hawkthorne, but doing so would make their backers panic. They''d go underground." They''d already gone underground. William had reported what Tavish and Lamech had done.


    "What of it?" asked William, looking around. "It would end the war.


    "And we have Reg''s testimony." Rius looked to Lilas. So where was Reg?


    "Friends, friends," said Rius with much less sincerity than Aras. "We cannot allow past grudges to interfere with the matter." What past grudges? Did he think Tanith and William had a grudge?


    "For the moment, I judge that we do not know enough.


    "Reg shall remain in prison until we learn more. It is doubtful that he shall be any harm there. In the meantime, I am certain each of us shall be able to do great service and find the answers." Reg wasn''t in prison.


    He was almost certainly already gone. But to where?


    "...What of the girl?" William asked. "The one that is either a goddess or a demon? Farah." Then he remembered the blue-skinned girl his age.


    His age.


    Realization dawned.


    William considered what had just happened in this conversation. Rius had openly spoken of reclaiming lost cargo. He had snubbed William for his services. Spoken of torturing Reg, and quite a few other things. At the same time he¡¯d made use of William¡¯s resources while ignoring him.


    Just like he¡¯d ignored Father.


    Rius was his enemy.


    In disgust, William stood up and walked down the table while no one spoke. He placed a hand on Tanith''s shoulder as he passed. Opening the door, he pulled it open, stepped through, and slammed it. The noise hid that he kneeled by the door to listen. It was a very fine door of dark wood.


    "So the child has finally left the room," said Rius. "No doubt to sulk and cry." The absolute fool.


    "He is quite popular with the people, Lord Rius," said Lilas.


    "Popularity rises and falls, Lilas," said Rius. "He''ll be forgotten in a week.


    "Now, what of this vampire conspiracy Reg rambled on about." William saw a servant staring at him and didn''t care. Even if Rius was informed, he would laugh it off as William being a child. The servant walked away.


    "What is your plan, then?" asked Tanith.


    "Well, first, we''re going to have a lot of arrests of problematic citizens. Then some hangings, and then a celebration," said Rius. "A few fines as well to polish off the finances. Best to focus on up-and-comers with less clout. And, of course, we must meet with Lord Dunmoore when he arrives with an entire army of Paladins." Celebrations?


    Had the man looked outside?


    "Lord Rius, this is outrageous!" said Tanith finally. "William labored for two days straight, halting the spread of the plague. He brought you Reg; you have repaid his efforts with insult and belittlement!"


    "Girl, I will have you know that I am a Lord of Antion," said Rius, emphasizing the last states. "And of the most profitable and influential port therein. You are the second child of a lesser lord from a lesser land.


    "You advance yourself through my good graces henceforth. Am I clear?"


    "I''m only saying that William is not harmless," said Tanith, adjusting. "He has very powerful friends. And he''ll likely meet with quite a few nobles on the way to Gel Carn.


    "He has more than an opportunity to return the favor. And he is very good in a fight."


    "What of it?" asked Rius. "He has no personal credibility save by acting as your hanger-on in Khasmir. A glorified insect purge with no human enemies and one dangerous walk in the woods. No money was made there by anyone; it would have been better to let the filthy animals die.


    "Seathorius isn''t that large, and many others have made the journey. Most of his accounts are embellished and falsified. So his only achievement is healing a few dozen lepers and cripples." A few hundred, actually, and that didn''t count other ailments.


    "Not a very impressive feat and can be duplicated by any priest." But it wasn''t. And it could not be.


    "We should shut down the slave trade," said Tanith. "Completely and immediately."


    "Why?" asked Rius.


    "Most of the slaves in this city are going south to plantations in the Antion heartlands," said Tanith. "And they were seized illegally, or at least dishonorably. Most of those plantations are built on land stolen from the men who Reg conscripted.


    "Plantations have a high fatality rate, even the more humane ones of Antion.


    "Without slaves, they will go bankrupt, and we can buy them back. This land can then be redistributed back to the men who lost it. And the people who engineered this make a lot of money on the matter." That decision would wreck Rius'' reputation quickly if he were stupid enough to do it.


    William would love to have pointed this out. But he wasn''t in the room, was he? So Tanith''s vengeance would have to go through.


    Rius clasped his hands together. "And I could use the mistreatment of the Furbears as grounds for shutting things down. Solving several problems at once and putting them under my influence.


    "No doubt no one would care if they were all clapped in chains later. The public is easily manipulated and forgetful."


    "Lord Rius," said Lilas. "This action could antagonize Lady Atravain."


    "What of it, Lilas?" asked Rius. "Atravain is half responsible for this anyone. And her control of a few plantations is insignificant next to this port. One has to be firm anyway to respond to power plays like this.


    "Were it not for Kafka, she should have lost it long ago."


    Insolent...


    "Still," said Rius. "The prospect of a loan is unsettling."


    "Then we waste a great deal of money on people we hate. And have reason to take it back by force when we win," said Tanith quickly, almost seeming a different person. "Harlenorian culture is at stake here. It is built on a foundation of warriors on all levels.


    "If you dispossess the farmers, you dispossess the backbone of our society. Besides, I wonder if Lady Atravain might not have started this herself. After all, she''s the one who needs slaves. And she has three daughters with no real option for advancement.


    "You are still young, milord."


    "Now that is an idea," said Rius. "I imagine Janice might make for a fine trophy once things have gotten underway. Well, befitting the victor.


    "Well then, Lady Telus, will you investigate the slaver operations in this city?"


    "It would be my honor," said Tanith. "William can tag along too."


    Never had William heard such good fake laughter.


    "Then we shall give our paladin friends something to occupy themselves," said Rius. "You are in command, Lady Telus. Make sure Sir Gabriel make no more uproars; the child should be put at ease."


    At that point, the discussion concerned money and how Rius would make it. He talked about ways to sell the property he''d be seizing and how to profit from the catastrophe. All while sharing as little of the money as possible and, if possible, making it at his rival''s expense. Felix and Jehair listened to everything he said and went along with it while Tanith sat silent.


    This was what so many people had died for?


    William stood and walked out of the hall. Looking around at the splendor, he felt utterly sick. He was tempted to set fire to it or smash it up because what would Rius do about it? But he did not.


    So, instead, he walked into the coatroom. There he found a servant straightening the picture¡ªthe one of Father. Now William knew what it meant. Rius had abandoned their alliance and left Father out in the rain.


    He sneered at all that was great and lofty and tore down others in their mind to compensate for his failings. Lord Rius was no noble. Just a fat man living in a fantasy world where everything was utterly grim and dark. A custom-tailored dimension where all that was great and lofty ended in failure and death. Designed to make this impudent brat seem less terrible by comparison.


    No doubt, Rius called his view of reality ''more realistic.''


    It was nothing but fantasy. Here was a man who thought tax policies were more important than those who raised the taxes. A vision of decadence and filth in silken clothes. He''d probably considered murdering a guest to be a brilliant strategic move. There were girls William''s age, mere children, being used as prostitutes in this city.


    And Rius had let it happen. Perhaps even delighted in the practice.


    Honor did not exist to him. The well-being of the realm was a mere footnote to his private fancies of ambition. All delusions were conjured to disguise the facts. He was a coward¡ªa sniveling traitor who abandoned his country, friends, and people.


    William walked over to him. "You don''t need to do that. I will be taking that gift back."


    "...Is that wise," asked the servant.


    "A man who insults Duke Vanion''s son insults Duke Vanion," said William. Then he took it off the wall and walked out into the bleak light of the streets.


    Aras was over to one side, smoking his pipe as usual. It was raining lightly from above, and the filth was beginning to wash away into the sewer grates. The overhang from the building protected the painting. But the city looked mournful and dead now.


    Here and there, beggars were asking for alms, but they were healthy. The stench of death had passed, and the hell had been cleaned a bit. But it remained a hell.


    Aras offered a pipe. He looked exhausted from the long labor, and blood was drying on his cloak. His weathered features were turned skyward up to where the promise of fresh rain was coming. William hoped the painting wouldn''t get ruined; it was a nice one.


    Still, the pipe was there.


    "Mother insists on never smoking," said William. "She believes it can kill a man."


    "Most good things can," said Aras, blowing a smoke ring that floated skyward. "Is that stolen?"


    "It is taken back," said William. "Rius treats my Father and me with contempt. It was in a coatroom, while pictures of merchants were further in. Since he has no intention of treating me with any friendship, why should I burden him with a symbol?


    "Do you want this?"


    "Well, transporting in this squall could be hard," said Aras. "But yes. I have a ship waiting for when I leave this place."


    "Well then," said William. "It is yours.


    "Whatever your rank and wherever you''re going, you''ve treated me far better than Rius. Do you trust Jehair?"


    "Jehair is completely helpful with everyone she works with," said Aras. "Everyone.


    "She makes no moral judgment and does whatever needs to be done. Her interest is in the land itself. This is why she associates with so many violent people. Her sect of the Druids of Laevian believes there are too many people.


    "But if you are in her charge, you are safe and will have your interests looked after until you betray her. Or, until your contract is up, with a grace period naturally."


    "Thank you," said William. "Now, I''ll tell you everything discussed there so you can plan for it. I am only a child and cannot be held accountable for gossip."


    "I think perhaps we understand one another well, William," said Aras, taking the painting. "Do tell."


    William did tell him.


    Aras nodded and smiled. "I''ll make the preparations at once. Thank you, Farwa shall be very pleased with this." And he headed off at once.


    Eventually, Lilas came out of the room, looking very concerned. "There''s a painting missing from his wall, Sir Gabriel."


    "I doubt he''ll mind," said William. "Rius never seemed to have any use for it.


    "I have an apology to make. When I first saw you in the street with your workers, I had a very uncharitable view of you. I realize now that you''ve been here while everyone else comes and goes.


    "And there is about to be a famine."


    "I advance myself through the good graces of higher Lords," said Lilas. "And one has to respond to small mistakes. If you don''t, they are repeated.


    "Good luck."As they walked away, a howling scream of fury echoed from the manor''s doors. Inside, Rius seemed to be screaming at the servants, ignorant that he could be heard down the street. It was the scream of a very rich man who had lost something he had never wanted or needed until now.


    It was a very satisfying one indeed.


    "And since Rius has now staffed his room with my men," said William. "I won''t be attending future meetings."


    William went to get his armor from the ship. It was going to be one of those quests.

 Chapter Eleven: The Warehouse

    It was the third day now. And they still hadn''t left this miserable city!


    If this was to be the beginning, what could they expect at the finish?


    William, Tanith, Felix, and Jehair took time to get to the warehouse. The smoke of burning corpses rose from pyres to heaven. Warriors drank while speaking of adventures hunting undead monsters in the area outside.


    Kata''s hair was no longer braided and had fallen around her shoulders long. Her fur robes were torn, and beneath them was a chain shirt. In one hand was a spear, and Furbearers were talking to others.


    As she saw them, Kata stood up and ran to embrace William. He held her for a moment and then stepped back. The feeling of her against him was... nice. Even so, he broke the embrace and looked at her for injuries. There was a cut on her cheek, and he healed it quickly, being careful with his gauntlet.


    "Kata, what news?" asked William.


    "We... well, we won," said Kata. "Though we''d have lost many more people if the Paladins hadn¡¯t been here. I don''t think things were as easy as we expected they''d be."


    "We''d best continue this discussion elsewhere," said William, looking to the nearby men.


    "I... I put a spear through someone," said Kata. "He died. He was coming at me with a scimitar, and I raised my weapon and got him in the stomach. I remember his eyes..."


    "Oh, you made your first kill. Good work," said Tanith.


    "Good work?" asked Kata in surprise.


    "Don''t mind her; Tanith lives for war," said William. "Are you alright?" He thought she looked very beautiful with her hair down.


    "Yes," said Kata, adjusting her spear. Her garb was torn in several places, and her hair was down and wild. "I think so."


    "Good. You should speak to someone about it when we have more time," said William. "For now, you''re a leader. Never show weakness, or it will hurt those you command. Grieve when you have the time."


    "How was it for you?" asked Kata.


    "I fought a satyr in Seathorius in single combat. He nearly killed Felix, and I killed him," said William with a shrug. "There was no choice, but it doesn''t make anything better. You learn to deal with these kinds of misery.


    "Pain is how we grow." And they began to walk together.


    "It shouldn''t be that way," said Kata. "Why do you brag about this kind of stuff, Tanith?"


    "I love battle," said Tanith. "I saw terrible things in the war and learned to like them.


    "Either way, we have a mission."


    They found Farwa healing the sick and injured outside the slaver compound. There were a lot of them, and more were being brought out by the moment. She was casting spells and looked very tired.


    Looking up, she finished her work, stood, and nodded to him, dark hair flowing in the wind. "Sir William, you come at last. I have begun healing the slaves and injured here.


    "We are also coordinating with healers who have emerged since our victory. Suran knew the locations where things were worse. We have helped more people since you came to us than ever before."


    "I am pleased to hear it, but you give too much credit to me," said William. "I am simply playing the part mine by right and duty.


    "Princess Kata informs me of you and your men''s heroics. I commend your performance here. Suran is presently occupied with other businesses. I ordered him to assist as needed."


    "That is wise," said Farwa. "I shall send men to his service."


    "On that note," said William. "I must warn you, Lord Dunmoore may be shut out, depending on the situation. Tensions are going high, and the presence of the Paladins here could be a problem.


    "Lord Rius is not in a position where he can trust anyone completely. I think it may be best, once the plagues are in hand, for the Paladins to move out of the city so there are no tensions."


    "But we would never consider such treachery!" said Farwa.


    "Yes," said William. "However, Lord Rius may not know that. If he doesn''t let Dunmoore in, Dunmoore''s allies may think some treachery is afoot. Everyone could end up fighting.


    "And if there is a group of Paladins, a well-intentioned man might ask them to open the gates. It would be far better to find an equally urgent task elsewhere."


    "I will see to this at once," said Farwa. ¡°We shall do what we can. But, could your presence not pose a similar problem."


    "Happily, I''m not going to be here in a few days," said William. "I have pressing business further inland, so we''ll be heading in the same direction.


    ¡°Where is Jehair?"


    ¡°Jehair is here,¡± said Jehair, emerging from a room. ¡°I apologize for my absence. I have been occupied.¡±


    "We should take different paths," said Felix. "And move in small groups. We''ll cover more ground that way."


    "For now, Lord Rius has put me in command," said William, looking to Tanith, who nodded. "I ask you to bear with me for a bit. Everything has become a bit hectic.


    "We will be entering the slaver compound."


    "Of course," said Jehair. "It has not yet been cleansed; there is a force in there we do not understand."


    ¡°Gods protect you,¡± said Farwa.


    "We''ll be careful," said William.


    And so it was that they scaled up the steps and through the fortified door. Beyond, they found cells lining the walls. Within it was a foul stench of death and filth that made William flinch. Grasping for his harp, he was assailed by the will of some horror he could hardly see. Yet playing the music against it, he drove back the waves.


    "So tightly packed..." said William, retching. "How can anyone breathe?"


    "They prefer quantity to quality of experience, William," said Tanith, unaffected. "Personally, I''m not fond of taking slaves. I mostly just prefer killing everyone I capture and can''t ransom.


    "They don''t put Harlenorians out of work, they can''t come back for revenge, and the trip back is more pleasant. Besides, slaves are never valuable."


    "Did you expect otherwise?" asked Felix.


    "I did not expect anything," said William. "This place must be cleansed. Farwa, have people from this city bring water to wash away the filth. It must be done by them and them alone."


    "As you command," said Jehair, raising a hand in salute. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    William continued to play as they moved through the cages, and he sensed death after death. The pain and suffering of those who had died in this wretched place assailed him, tearing at his mind. But his music quieted the agony a little so that he could perceive the blood on the walls and floor. There had been real fighting here.


    "Why wouldn''t they employ the Healer''s Guild for this? Are they not allies?" asked Jehair thoughtfully.


    "Business partners may be a better term, Jehair," said Felix. "I expect they have a common purpose but still charge for their services to one another. Assuming they are connected at all."


    "Felix, scan this place for any documents or letters or anything we could use," said William. "The others might have missed something. Don''t give them to Rius; I want to keep them myself.


    "...Are you alright?"


    "This place..." said Jehair, raising a hand as people with water came in. "It festers with the unnatural. There is corruption here that does not exist in nature. Yet, if properly balanced, nature might find a home."


    As Jehair raised her hand, the music of William''s harp was enhanced by songs of birds from outside. The patter of rain from some far away place mixed with his music to burn at the horrors. Years and years of torment and agony were driven back little by little.


    The people with water began to cleanse the place, washing the filth away from flagstones. Yet no matter how far they worked at it, nothing worked. They scrubbed at it, but only the surface of the rot was rubbed away. Water soaked the floor, but it did not seep it in nor drive the corruption. And all the music in the world could not purify this place.


    On and on it went, and William looked to Jehair. "Why would there have been so many sick and injured people in this place?"


    "Priests make rounds the docks to heal anyone who comes off a ship, William," said Tanith. "The setup was made specifically to deal with this kind of thing. I guess they must have not had a replacement."


    "I once saw an entire cageful of people decaying to death," She was playing cards with herself on the ground. "But never this heavily packed. It usually only hits slaves. It spreads by skin contact with the person or the water they were in.


    "So when you put them all down in the hold, water seeps in sometimes and spreads to their ankles."


    "At one time, there was an outbreak in this city, a hundred years ago," said Jehair. "Most of the healer''s and priests were off fighting or had been killed in the Calishan wars. The Calishans were taking Artarq, or you might have been taking it back.


    "I was part of the effort to heal it. It spread throughout the entire town, and by the time healer returned it was too late."


    "Tanith, I think we may have found the source of this plague," said William thoughtfully. "It must have spread to the other villages through the slave trade. And with the Healer''s Guild in place, it would have gone unchecked.


    "Therefore, we cannot ship any of these to the plantations."


    Looking up, he saw a statue in a cell on an altar. Going into it, William saw it was of a woman with many blades coming from her back. The statue was crude and difficult to see, but there was a vicious edge. "...What is this?"


    "A common deity worshiped by slaves," said Felix. "Though I have always found her disgusting.


    "Karus, Lady of the Bound," said Jehair. "She provides hope for those who have none and hears their cries. Though I''ve never seen any cult or priest of her."


    "I think you mean she gives them false hope to use them for her ends," said Felix. "Her contracts are made under pretenses. They are merely another kind of slavery."


    "Isn''t Karus'' the ancient Goddess of Fate, Destiny, and Choice?" asked Kata.


    "Someone who is a slave has no choice," said Felix.


    "What kind of animals would do this to people?" murmured Kata.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    "Animals driven by a disease I cannot cure. Men who have been severed from good conscience and good sense," said William.


    "Hey!" said Tanith.


    "I''m referring to people who continue in this area of operation, Tanith," said William. "I don''t mean you. You briefly dabbled in the trade as a means of conquest and abandoned it for what it was."


    "Yes, I am certain the villagers greatly preferred being slaughtered instead," said Jehair. "Do you ever tire of warmongering?"


    Tanith turned to Jehair. "Warmongering?"


    And then Jehair had a sword to her breast and her back to a wall.


    "Tanith?!" said Kata.


    "I haven''t seen you lift a finger to help us without being ordered since you got here, Jehair," said Tanith. "And you seem to have a very good idea about what is happening here. Everyone knows you on a first-name basis. But you''re as surprised as we are by this unexpected chain of events.


    "A set of events which you''ve been watching unfold for months.


    "Who is it who bought you, and at what price? When everyone is dead, you''ll feed our corpses to the flowers and bring your elf-friends back in to take our land?!"


    "Enough!" said William. "Tanith, I will speak to you about all of this later. You have my respect and my trust, but wild accusations are helping no one. Now remove your sword and let the insult pass before you get us all killed."


    Tanith nodded and stepped back, her sword sheathing as quickly as it was drawn. "As you wish."


    William nodded. "Tanith, you are going on too fast with such accusations. If you suspect such a thing, it ought to have been brought to me in private.


    "Jehair, your words could be considered a grievous insult. Especially since the horrors here are chipping away at everyone''s patience. For now, this vendetta must be postponed until it is useful to pursue it. If ever."


    Tanith shrugged.


    "William is right; we can''t let these disagreements get in the way of our goal," said Kata.


    "Which is?" asked William, looking at her, only to find the statue of Karus''.


    "Who are you talking to, William?" asked Kata.


    "You, obviously," said William. "Not everyone in his room has the same goal, Kata. We''re aligned for the moment. But you might one day become an enemy of someone in this room. Or perhaps you''ll have to choose between them."


    "But you''re my friends," said Kata.


    "Yes, but, as nobility, you may one day be obligated to fight against us," said William. "Alliances shift, situations change. Nobles are afforded great privileges because they have terrible responsibilities.


    "To be noble is to be responsible."


    Kata nodded. They went further into the slavery compound and came to a room filled with papers. There was also a bar where ale was available, and several spilled cups were lying around. Felix picked up the cups and set them down as people came in to clean the place.


    "...Why aren''t there any Temples to Karus anyway?" asked Felix suddenly.


    "I imagine most have no association with her, save when they''ve no money for a temple," said William. "Unless you call this one."


    "Why pay for a statue, then?" asked Kata, looking at Jehair.


    Jehair put a hand on Kata''s cheek and smiled. "It is believed to ward off misfortune and increase survival rates among slaves."


    "William, I found the documents," said Felix, sorting through papers without looking up. "Nothing directly links them. But there is this." He passed it to William, who looked through it. The pages looked to have been turned and were stained with something.


    "An order for a great many slaves. Far higher than is normal," noted William.


    "That''s to be expected," said Tanith. "Slaveholders burn through slaves fast, and the merchants keep track of it. Many of them estimate how many they need and order them in advance. Sometimes they don''t buy all of them, but usually, someone needs more slaves than expected.


    "As a result, the number of slaves imported is usually pretty predictable. At least, barring a shortage in demand. You''d only get something like this if there was reason to believe you''d have a serious jump.


    "Look here." She pointed to part of a page.


    "What is this?" asked William as he took it.


    "The purchase of broken cargo by the Body Runners," said Tanith, returning Jaha''s look. "They are an organization that ships corpses out the east gate."


    "Corpses?" guessed William.


    "Well, yes, the bodies of slaves that die," said Jehair. "As well as bodies of people who are sold here to be hidden away. Murders happen in ports, now and then, and slavers sell corpses to the Body Runners as well. They also transport slaves sometimes."


    "Who leads them?" asked William.


    "A man named Lamech, who is a long-time associate of Tavish," said Jehair. "You see, they preserve them in caskets and ship them off to the vampires of Antion. The vampires need a supply of them and don''t mind the condition.


    "So if you''re a common murderer and kill a man, you sell them here. They take the body, give you some money, and ship it out east to the servants of Neral Dinis."


    "This is sick," said Kata, looking sick. "Why would your King allow this?"


    "All nations have things like this, Kata," said William. "If the King is good, it''s kept small and manageable, with high risk. But if there is a demand for a product, somebody will want to find a supply to meet it.


    "If they find a way to supply it, they''ll provide it for a price. And once you set up a market, it''s much harder to uproot."


    "It shouldn''t be this way," said Kata.


    "No, no, it should not," said William. "It wouldn''t be the De Chevlons. Raynald has never mentioned anything like this. And Father would never have associated with them. Not if they did this openly, at any rate.


    "And such an open action would draw unwanted attention."


    "You are correct," said Felix. "Neral Dinis plays the role of a middleman. He collects the bodies that lesser vampires eat. Even as the Baroness De Chevlon collections the slaves that they dine on.¡±


    "I knew some warriors who have done the same," said Jehair. "Though I put them in the grave myself and cremated it to make a point. That was before Neral Dinis¡¯ preferences were legalized."


    "Would you rather they eat live prey?" asked Kata.


    "It''s a matter of principle," said Jehair. "Anyway, this is a repulsively neat and tidy operation, isn''t it?"


    "Too neat and tidy," said Kata, shaking her head. "Why is Reg here?"


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "Everyone here was going to get rich," said Kata. "Reg''s doesn''t need to be here. All these men could be employed in something else. Why expose your operation and bring the wrath of House Gabriel down on you-"


    "Two different operations," blurted Jehair.


    "Hmm?" asked William, guessing what she meant.


    "We''re facing two different operations here," said Jehair. "One is a preexisting system of exploitation that has ingrained itself into Antion. The other is a disruptive, violent uprising using the loose ends of exploitation.


    "So whoever put Reg up to this was trying to use the operation to disrupt things."


    "Whoever these people are, they must have contacts in the system," said Felix. "And enough pull to arrange something like this."


    "It doesn''t matter," said Tanith. "What do we do here and now?"


    Jehair leaned against the wall. "A fine idea, Tanith. One should live each moment as though it is the last, for it may be."


    "First," said William. "We will complete our search."


    And their search began. They went down a floor and found several storehouses packed with valuable cargo. Much of it was untouched. They opened this and found many goods that looked to have been stolen. Most notable were the weavings of the battles of Escor.


    "I know these patterns," said Jehair. "These are the works of Magicorian Weavers. You can tell by the slightly unreal part of it. Or they are very convincing imitations.


    "They only sell by specialized licenses. Someone has been selling stolen cargo."


    "We''ll call it weregild for the atrocities done to the Furbearers," said Kata.


    "I have no issue with that," said William. "However, you should tell as much to Rius when the situation is calmer. Courtesy is necessary."


    "This way," said Felix at the door. "Tanith I have found something."


    They found a room with an altar with the floor covered in bones and dried blood. There was a sacrificial knife on the altar, perfectly preserved and cleaned. And there was a body on it that had their throat slashed.


    Over it stood an altar to Melchious, wings splayed outward. His vulture aspect was looking down. William felt like it was glaring at him and felt a biting sensation in his mind. Drawing his harp, he played notes to contest it. For a moment, it held sway, and then his hands were shaking. Looking around, William thought he saw his friends being ripped to shreds. All by vultures without realizing it.


    They kept looking on, as little by little, they were turned into animated bones. Then those bones fell to dust. And no matter how much magic William played, the visions of horror assailed him. He saw on the altar Imogen, the girl from before, and saw her pushed down and tied down. Once done, her throat was slashed, and she gurgled before the spirit vanished.


    Then the body was gone as though it had never been.


    "Are you alright?" asked Jehair. "You have been meeting the gaze of that statue too long."


    "This place is a room of execution," said William. "It must be cleansed. But first;" Snatching up the dagger, he broke it on the ground. Then raising his sword, he cleaved the statue down the middle and smashed the altar. With one blow, the altar broke in twain, and there was a scream of rage.


    Then he turned and saw people from before cheering behind him. William wondered if they were really there or just a phantom. "We should continue our search," said William, desperately unhappy. "This room must be cleared and the bodies laid to rest with proper rites.


    "Keep an eye out for a secret passage. These men might have someplace they can leave in a hurry. Or find some other place."


    "That was a poor move," said Jehair. "Melchious will remember that act."


    "Let him," said William in disgust.


    Jehair frowned and brushed a strand of hair from her head. "How much do you know about Neral Dinis?"


    "Felix, how much do we know about Neral Dinis?" asked William, smiling at him.


    "He is a vampire of formidable power," said Felix, almost laughing. "He was a bitter enemy of the Gabriels in the Escorian Civil War. He was said to wield bolts of pure sunlight without fear of being burned. It is by some sorcery we do not understand.


    "But he lost his clan and his power to Erik the Voyager. And they took up service under the De Chevlon''s, who had once been his rivals. I believe you had great enmity with him."


    "You are correct," said Jehair. "We have long been enemies, even before the Escorian Civil War. He killed one who was dear to me by torment. And I hunted many of his minions.


    "Over the years, we have clashed many times. Yet now we are restrained. Your enmity with Melchious and mine with him may be similar."


    "What was the Escorian Civil War like?" asked William as he looked through merchant manifests.


    "Complex," said Jehair. "In those days, there were many people and many vampires to hunt them, with little cooperation. Every faction had their own agenda. The population grew ever larger; their agendas became all the more unbearable.


    "Oaths were broken, friends betrayed, and anger grew worse. Years of conspiracy tore apart every friendship, and many trees were felled. My lady, the Flower Maiden, groaned by the misery cut into the land.


    "But, all that changed in the Escorian Civil War.


    "With a full-scale war going on, it was impossible to coordinate conspiracies. And coordination was how they were able to maintain their power. Rivers of blood flowed over the land, and whole regions were wiped away. The Pass of Dragon Bones was nearly taken at one point, though it held with my help.


    "And everyone in Escor hated the vampires, except House De Chevlon. So they suffered terribly."


    "I remember this," said William. "They had very conservative rules about feeding on the wicked and avoiding collateral."


    "Anyway, when the war began in full swing, anyone who had an opportunity to kill a vampire did it," said Jehair. "Of course, most vampires are stronger than the average person but are also stagnant. And there were many more people than them.


    "They ended up getting picked off little by little, and Erik the Voyager killed many of them.¡±


    "Ultimately, we exterminated the Dinis line. Neral had to rebuild from scratch as his master. So he sought service under the De Chevlons and plotted his revenge. But I had business in other places and departed House Gabriel. Instead, I focused on helping the land to heal and grow in my Lady''s name."


    "Wait," said William, feeling a flicker of awareness. Something beneath him, a familiar presence. Not evil like Melchious or even destructive, but something else. "Do you sense that?"


    "Yes," said Tanith, moving forward. Moving aside a table carefully, she pulled a rug off the floor. There they saw a trapdoor. "Look here."


    "A trapdoor," said Kata. "Where do you suppose it leads?"


    "I don''t know, but we''d best find out," said William. "Felix, head up and tell Tanith where we are going in case we can''t return. Jehair, I''d like a word with you."


    "Yes, child, what is it?" asked Jehair.


    William considered his question and moved to one side into what appeared to be a kitchen. The slavers had cooked and eaten here. Several side doors with bars on this side had been opened. Now people were using them. "...Why did Rusara ask you to accompany me? And why that particular inn? It struck me as an odd place."


    "Perhaps she wants you to find that question on your own," said Jehair across from him.


    William looked at her. ¡°Please give me an answer.¡±


    "I''m afraid not," laughed Jehair. "Rusara and I were enemies of old, though it was not personal as it was with Neral Dinis. Still, she consulted with me infrequently. I accepted her request with equal confusion. But since I planned to go down to Gel Carn myself, I might humor her.


    "I confess, you are more interesting than I anticipated. I was hoping to have you as a traveling companion.¡±


    "And what did you anticipate?" asked William.


    Jehair smiled back and put her arms beneath her breasts. All while shifting in a manner that made her very seductive. William wondered if she did not realize it. "Someone less benevolent and more focused on getting to his destination. I had taken your books to be a mere exaggeration."


    William shrugged. "Good propaganda never says anything that is untrue or exaggerates at all where they can help it. A lie can be disproven or disbelieved based on what you see. Father taught me instead to focus on those aspects which are favorable. To downplay the aspects contrary to the image you desire to project."


    "Then why does Tanith Telus appear in your books?" asked Jehair.


    "Because I''m not writing propaganda," said William. "I am William Gabriel. I am what is written." There was no way Jehair was actually interested in him any more than Tanith or Kata.


    "That''s a nice line. Did you come up with that just now?" asked Jehair, smiling faintly.


    "Yes, actually," said William.


    At that moment, Tanith came back, and William hadn''t known she''d left. "Well, my men are getting ready right now. We''ll be behind you soon enough."


    William nodded. "Good work Tanith. Then let''s get to work."


    Finally, things were looking up.

 Chapter Twelve: Destiny Awaits

    The hatch opened, and William leaped down first into the depths. Landing, his boots plunged into inches of mud and dirt. There was an oozing smell around him, and the dim light from above was the only illumination. Raising a gloved hand, he opened a palm and asked the Sun Spirit for aid.


    A sphere of light appeared in his hand and illuminated the passage ahead. As they walked forward, Tanith brought men in from above and among them, Farwa among them. Kata held her spear around her, while Farwa had one hand on her sword in an under-grip. Jehair held her scythe in hand.


    "I don''t understand how you live in this world, William?" asked Kata. It was ironic, for Kiyora had never asked that. "This place, all around us.


    "War, disease, horrors behind every surface. You can''t trust anyone you meet, even good people. How can a person live here?"


    "Someone can live anywhere they can be born," said Jehair. "if only for an instant. You always lived in this world, Kata. You''ve just become more aware of it now. You''ve grown stronger."


    "Not happier," said Kata.


    "Being good isn''t about being happy," said William with a sigh. "You get used to it.


    "There''s always something terrible lurking beneath the shadows in every world. You only need to look for it. If you don''t look for it, it gets even more monstrous and horrible as you ignore it. But, on the other hand, if you obsess over it, you gradually become it.


    "A good person tries to root out the monsters around them. A hero finishes in one place and moves on to another."


    "Do you enjoy adventures?" asked Kata in surprise.


    "I don''t regret having them," said William.


    "Do you think we''ll be able to save Antion?" asked Kata.


    "Probably not," said William. "Antion seems to have been decaying long before I showed up. And many of the most powerful people in Antion are part of it. So the most we''ll achieve is a temporary disruption of their plans.


    "Still, if everyone does everything they can, it''ll destroy their plans instantly. The trick is making that happen."


    "So why do the effort?" asked Jehair, sounding irritated. In the light of the Sun Spirit, her hair looked almost gold. "If you find all this so pointless."


    "Well, many of my people are free, aren''t they?" asked William, turning to be face-to-face with her. "At the moment, it''s all a never-ending sea of darkness, but every small victory creates a small light point. Though tiny, that light helps others light their lights, each shining greater. And little by little, the world is illuminated."


    "Yes, but all that''s done is make us realize how horrible it is," said the Furbearer from before.


    "Of course," said William. "And many people choose to put out their lights when they see the terrible reality around us. Others have their lights trapped by the dark powers. They are tricked into siding against the good. But the illumination of the horrors of the universe makes it easier to fight them.


    "It''s bleak and horrible, and you probably will be unhappy sometimes. But it''ll make the good moments all the better, and you''ll be satisfied that you did what you could."


    "But doesn''t that mean you can''t stop these people?" noted Kata.


    "How do you mean?" asked William.


    "Well, if you were doing what they were doing, would you want to be stopped?" asked Kata.


    "Of course," said William. "Their evil deeds will see them damned to hell or worse if they continue as they are now. Death can be a mercy if the only alternative is to remain in perpetual sin, bringing harm to those around you."


    "I think we both know that isn''t going to happen, Will," said Tanith, who had been silent until now.


    "Don''t be too sure," said William. "Perhaps someday it will, in some faraway life. You can''t destroy a soul, after all."


    Then Jehair sniffed and looked upwards. Felix looked at her sharply. "What is it, Jehair?"


    "Someone has been through here. I can tell by the smell on the path," said Jehair. "Come, we must move quickly. They may have warned those ahead."


    And she hurried ahead with the others following.


    "This passage seems to have been cut recently," said Tanith. "No moss is on the walls, and the floor has not been worn as happens in caves."


    "This could be an ideal means of entering the town unseen, could it not, Felix?" asked William.


    "It could," said Felix. "But I do not think it would have been created for that purpose. Slavers rarely seek conquest as a goal. Instead, most purchase their wares from those with conquest as a goal."


    And, at last, they came to a pale light reaching from just around the corner. Dawn was coming from some opening out to the light. There was also a still brighter light source down the cavern, brighter than ever. William wondered if they were coming out into the open.


    William raised a hand to halt as he peered into a large, round natural cavern with a high ceiling and stones. He saw the daylight coming from a hole delved into the rock above. He saw the servant girl from before in the room, her clothes torn, so her shoulder was bare. She was kneeling, and two men held her dark hair. Both had beards after Babarassian fashion and looked at her like she were meat.


    "Well, what do we have here?" said one. "Now, this is a nice find, isn''t it?"


    "A bit old, if you ask me," said another.


    William felt insulted on her behalf on this. She was only a little older than him and a gorgeous woman. And she was almost certainly a Goddess in disguise anyway; her shapely form wasn''t dirty at all. Nor did her skin show any imperfections.


    "Well, there''s plenty younger if that''s your preference. The ship''s just come in," said another.


    "Please, sir, I''m not for sale," said the woman. "I''m a messenger-"


    "Everything is for sale. Especially women who go unescorted without covering," said the man, striking her. "Take her to the auction."


    Those absolute idiots.


    They''d earned their country a century of humiliation.


    "But I bear a message from your partners!" said the woman. "There''s chaos in the streets! Even now, the main storage facilities are surrounded by them." Well, now she had to be a Goddess. They ought to have heard about all this by now.


    Which domain?


    Something to do with chance or rebellion, maybe?


    "Well, we''ll post a warning and continue the auction," said another. "And you''ll make for a fine last specimen. Some like them older. Keep a lookout here, will you."


    A chain was put around her neck, and William sighed. These guys were idiots.


    "Just save a little of the leftovers for me," said another. "I''d like to stick into some of those infidel women myself."


    As she was dragged away, the woman looked at him and winked. Then, she walked away with an exaggerated sway of her hips.


    Was this some kind of masochistic fantasy to her?


    "Obviously," said the other.


    As soon as he was gone, William motioned to Felix, who slipped up behind the man. He cut his throat and stabbed him with three swift strokes. As he did, William came forward. "...Felix, how in Elranor''s name have they not been told of this?"


    "The city was sealed earlier, and the trapdoor was barred from the other side," said Felix. "Perhaps communications have been poor."


    "How are these Babarassians related to Medi, anyway?" asked William.


    "Those Medi were a people who worshipped Zigildrazia. They fled before Baltoth''s coming during his great rage," said Felix. As he spoke, he cleaned his dagger on the clothes of his enemies. "That was after the Fall of Valranor. Baltoth''s wrath had been outpouring upon those who had long escaped justice.


    "Those who would become the Babarassians had Drens among them, and also your people, the Furbearers."


    "Really?" asked Kata.


    "Yes," said Felix. During the fall of Valranor, many fled Artarq and other places to escape the fighting. Some came west to Haldren and served under the Withering. Others fled east to what would become Babarassia and served under the Kingdom of Thera. It was a colony of humans established independent of elven rule, for no one wanted the island.


    "Over time, they grew in number and population and destroyed those who sheltered them. They were allowed to walk unchecked throughout the land.


    "So you see, the King of Haldren has some right to be paranoid. Your people are kin to the Babarassians, just as kin to the Medi. You and the Babarassians are kin, in a way. They are a twisted mockery of your people, fit only for extermination."


    "I''ve never seen you speak with such hatred, Felix," said William, disturbed. "This seems more like what Raynald or Tanith might say."


    "Well, yes," said Felix. "But you know that Tanith is just speaking nonsense to justify what she does."


    "That''s a little harsh," said Tanith.


    "You''ve met Calishans and know it''s all just nonsense," said Felix, ignoring her. "What I''m saying is perfectly true, and can you point to anything that says otherwise?"


    "I''d hate to judge a society based on its slave traders. And Emile seemed reasonable enough," said William.


    "He wanted to marry a twelve-year-old," said Tanith.


    "I took him to be twisted by the society he lives in rather than genuinely evil," said William. "Every nation has its own... problems. And anyway, he released her, as well as the other slaves.


    "So he at least deserves some consideration."


    "Because he got caught," said Tanith. "He retreated from an untenable situation. He released his slaves out of fear of retribution."


    "We can discuss this matter another time," said William. "We''ve got work to do."


    Now assembled, the men hurried into the next place. It was a large cavern that William had difficulty believing it was real. The light poured in from a beautiful window into a harbor overlooking the sea. Distantly, one could see Haldren and the sun rising. Yet the vision was marred by the image of silhouettes of slave ships and wooden construction.


    Beneath it were many men in a crowd, armed. They leered at many terrified women of all races and howled prices. Heedless, that dawn was rising over a serene harbor, the likes of which had never been seen in Haldren. The slaves saw it, and their expressions changed to wonder, for some magic had shifted it.


    William and his men were struck dumb as the water became clear. It reflected the light in many-colored sparkles. But the well-dressed, overweight men looked at their coins.


    Their guards looked at the slaves like predatory animals. And the buyers, of all races and creeds, looked at the slaves now in hatred.


    For they sensed their pain and helplessness had waned for an instant. It made them despise them as much as they lusted for them. And William knew they would fall on their new property like wolves to fresh meat if this went through.


    Yet, something stayed in his hand, a power-like web clinging to him.


    Many of those here were girls and women and very beautiful. Their eyes were dull as if in a dream, and the men around them had an unnatural sneer. Among them was that same blue-skinned girl he''d seen before.


    "Now look at this one," said a white-bearded man. "A bit old, twelve, but of nice appearance. Pale skin and nice eyes. Can I get a number?"


    Numbers were given, many of them by Harlenorians. And William realized in horror that their people were buying here. How many people had been brought in from above? How many had been distributed to the lands beyond or sent away on those ships? He motioned to Tanith, and she moved with her forces to block the entrance at the far end. The guards there looked up too late and were killed quietly.


    "That''s one price! And sold!" said the man. "Bring up one of the younger ones, will you."


    "The children..." said Kata.


    "Everyone here dies," said Jehair in a fury. And for once, William held no suspicion toward her.


    "Not yet. We need information from them," said Felix. "Look at this setup.


    "We need as many alive as possible." The ships did not look like those that could travel on the Haldrenian Channel. It was as if they had come here by similar means.


    The Dreaming Goddess.


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    Were they using Kiyora''s power for this? How? Could this Queen Jazra have a power similar to hers?


    "Felix, go down the corridor and see if you can meet our men," said William. "Prepare to go out once you hear fighting."


    The sunrise continued, keeping the slaves calm and easing their distress. Meanwhile, the buyers drank and screamed. The buyer smiled. "And that''s another fine infidel damsel handed over to her salvation under Zigildrazia. Next up, and last, we have a recent addition. A much older kind, this one is quite a beauty herself."


    William tried to give the order but could not do so as the servant girl stepped onto the stage. Some force spellbound him; he could only admire how she posed instead. She stood, sticking out her chest, her tied hair over one shoulder, and smiling as though under a spell.


    But she wasn''t. The dawn rose just behind Farah, making her appear as divine as she raised her arms without being bidden.


    "Once the consort of a very powerful Harlenorian Lord. She''s plenty experienced," said the man. "We... acquired her, and we''ll put her up for a healthy number."


    "What''s her name?" asked a man.


    "I am Farasa," said the girl. And then she resumed a normal posture, and her face became stern and terrible. "You have walked a path of your choice. You have cut short the destinies of many. And now you shall suffer a righteous fate.


    "Behold your executioners."


    And now they saw William and Tanith, who sprang forward almost of their own accord. Their blades were out, and William realized he meant to kill them. But, no, he forced himself to stay his hand as he broke a spear and threw a man down. "We need them alive!


    "Alive!"


    "Damn Harlenorians! She wasn''t lying!" said a Babarassian. "Kill them all!"


    Even as they looked up, the sun''s light blinded them. It reflected off the Harlenorians'' spearheads. The men roared as they charged in, and the Babarassians were overcome. In moments, the front line was defeated, with many slain. The buyers went for weapons or fled for their ships.


    But they were too late. Many finely dressed men fled for the boats, only to be cut off by Jehair, who spun her scythe. Vines on the walls hereto unseen grew up to grasp them. At the same time, Tanith and her people stormed onto the ship, overpowering the guards easily. Those who were not killed were bound easily.


    Kata drove a lance through one while the other Furbearer nearly cut two throats with a knife. William hewed down one with his sword. Tanith and Jehair slew many, blade and scythe gleaming with power.


    They tried to get to the ships, but their crews were drunk, and the men were on them. The port was taken in less than a minute, the ships seized, and men pulled away.


    "Take whatever you want of the riches on the vessels," said William. "But the slaves will be freed!"


    "Free the children and check the holds. And harm no one you do not have to. Not an ounce of blood is to be spilled without need. Tanith, take charge of distributing the loot."


    "Much obliged to you," said Tanith. "These slavers are tepid and weak. The ones up there put up a decent fight, at least. These ones broke after the first charge."


    Things progressed as searches were undertaken below decks. As they did, an overweight, overdressed man was pulled forward. He wore silken outfits and a white hat with a red gem on the top. "Unhand me," said the man. "I am a Sheik of Noble Birth of Barabassia, and I shall not be manhandled!"


    "Release him," said William. "The battle is over."


    The men did.


    "What is your name?" asked William.


    "I am Mohas Omar, a personal envoy to Lord Rius, and you will pay for this outrage," said the man.


    "On what business did you come to Lord Rius, and why were you in this place?" asked William.


    Omar shifted beneath his hard gaze, fingering his golden belt. "...I was conducting some side business here. Of course, such a thing is permitted. Orders were given; we were not to be disturbed."


    "Does Lord Rius know what you are doing here?" asked William.


    Omar shuddered. "Of course he does! I am an envoy; come to negotiate a leadership change!"


    "To whom?" asked William.


    Omar tried to keep William''s gaze and eventually averted his eyes. "...The Lord Reg, of course. A mere formality, as anyone can see."


    "I see," said William. "And this spell that changes the water, what is it?"


    "All Babarassian colonies have it," said Omar, seeming glad at the conversation change. "Our magic only works in locations we have created it in. The magic of Queen Jazra gives us swift and easy sailing. One day, she shall rule all dreams and grant all wishes."


    "How does it spread?" asked William.


    "By men giving themselves to Queen Jazra," said Omar. "Those who let her rule them receive their wishes; we are her agents. Death does not mean to us what it means to you."


    So that was it.


    If the plague had gotten bad enough, people would have jumped at the chance to escape. And some would be willing to give up their souls. If it had continued, Babarassia''s dimension could have gradually spread. A decent plan, given the situation.


    "And these men, are they here by choice or no?" asked William.


    "They are," said Omar. "They come from many places in Harlenor to purchase."


    William paused. "Felix, Jehair, get the names of every person who was here. Send their names to those it might concern. Make sure King Vortegex knows how his own people have served him.


    "Omar, I fear that you have been misled.


    "Lord Rius has been restored, and Reg rots in a dungeon for usurping him. Your people departed Ascorn late yesterday upon realizing their error. I am surprised no notice was given to you."


    "It seems my representative was slain in the fighting. So I am at a disadvantage," said Omar.


    "Very well then. If you are an envoy, you shall not be harmed," said William. "Felix, keep an eye on him." Then he turned to Kata, standing close to Jehair and speaking quietly. "Kata, search the boats. Find all the documents you can, free all the slaves, and determine their origins."


    "You can''t possibly be serious," said Kata. "Do you know what they did?"


    "I am quite serious," said Wiliam. "You will settle your vendetta with the Babarassians later. Our only concern is saving and leaving your people here in one piece.


    "Sheik Omar, I would arrange a departure as soon as possible. Instead, forces are using your people as a bargaining chip, even though I don''t understand.


    "The Lord Dunmoore was en route with an army by order of Lord Rius."


    Omar stared. "You cannot possibly be serious.


    "Who is running this country?!"


    William halted. "Unless you want to find out, I''d take your followers and get out. Did you know where they came from?"


    "Well, there is usually an understanding that bad things happen in this business, but no," said Omar. "The slave trade does not care who you were before the chains got put over you.


    "As for the Haldrenian colonies...


    "I have no influence there. It will be a terrible loss for all involved at this rate."


    "You might try transporting grain," said William.


    "I''ll have to take another loan, but yes, reasonable," said Omar in disgust. "Never again with this slave-trading business."


    So Omar left with the rest of his crew to go to sea, and his slaves went. Tanith gave him a gift from some of what was stolen. The Harlenorians were still there, and William didn''t know what to do with them.


    "Why did you let them go?" asked Kata.


    "I already gave the rest of them leave to go," said William. "So I must honor the offer with Omar. I can''t afford to fight the Babarassians while all this mess happens."


    William got to work, but it didn''t seem there were that many wounded to heal. Little by little, as the dream faded, Tanith returned with a pouch of leather. In it were papers. The sea was rough again, and the sky turned to night.


    "Will you see this?" asked Tanith.


    "Hmm, documentation from the Lord Reg. This is authorizing an increase in trade activity," said William.


    "Rius was under-declaring the number of slaves sold here," said Tanith. "Babarassians give high prices for slaves than planters. But there are rules for selling to a foreigner, and you can''t sell Harlenorians. There are rules.


    "A lot of these people were Harlenorians.


    "And what''s worse, many men say there''s a question as to if the harvest will be brought in at all this year. So these slaves were needed to get it done."


    "Where are these Harlenorians from?" asked William. "Did you talk to them?"


    "Many are from Blackfear," said Tanith. "Neral Dinis'' domain, a new shipment. They say armed men seized them during the night. It was done by someone called Lamech.


    "Others were taken from Escor, sold by local lords in that place against the laws. It''s a common practice when you want to cover expenses. But never on this scale. Lamech was doing it too and had generous payments from Bishop Joffrey."


    "Where is Tavish?" asked William. "Surely he was Lamech''s master?"


    "I think they are equal partners," said Felix.


    "Felix is correct," said Jehair. "I am quite familiar with the territory Tavish operates in. He takes in strays with nowhere else to go and gives them work.


    "Lamech prefers to use the worst of humanity. The two often share the same interests, but their operations are separate."


    "Well, why didn''t you mention that before?" asked William.


    "It did not seem relevant," said Jehair. "Since your goal has been to get out of the city as soon as possible."


    "Felix," said William. "Tell me what is going on here in plain Harlenorian."


    "Lamech is enslaving Harlenorian citizens on flimsy pretenses," said Felix. "And nothing has been done to stop him. Tavish has enslaved the Furbearers on behalf of the planters of Antion. Rius has yet to do anything to control this, and merchants handle all his affairs.


    "Either the nobility and church of Antion can do nothing. Or they are actively complicit in this."


    "Or they may not know," said Jehair. "There is a difference between reading a report and seeing."


    "They can know and look out the window," said Felix. "Therefore, they either know or they choose not to know.


    "There is no excuse for this level of detachment."


    "We will make such judgments when we go into Antion proper," said William. "For all we know, the Paladin Order has already fixed all this. And we are simply at the very edge of the battle.


    "Tanith, recruit these slaves into your personal forces. Put them at Farwa''s disposal. Don''t spread any rumors about what we''ve heard here. The last thing we need is a revolt among the commoners.


    "Kata, take the customers to the slave cells and hold them until one of us comes with further orders. Ensure they are clean, and no one is overcrowded or poorly fed."


    "Why should we?" asked Kata, leaning against a cave wall with arms crossed. She probably was trying to look stern and unforgiving. She wasn''t really succeeding.


    "Your people have ample reason to hate the Babarassians," said William. "That is no reason to become them." Then he turned to the beautiful, dark-skinned Goddess and saw her smiling at Kata, who blushed. "You would be the Goddess Farasa, then? Or would you prefer Farah?"


    "I am," said Farasa. "Goddess of Destiny and daughter of your enemy, Baltoth."


    "And what has brought you here?" asked William, trying to keep his eyes on her face and failing. He''d been having trouble doing that a lot lately. "Beyond sewing chaos?"


    "I abhor slavery, for it steals the choice from mortals. It robs them of their destiny," said Farasa, stepping too close for comfort. "I abhor Barabasians for the terror they cause too many of my worshippers.


    "In Reg, I saw an opportunity to harm both of them. And also to damage the institution of slavery in this land beyond repair. So I inserted myself into his company. Before he met with Neral Dinis and made appropriate arrangements." She leaned in closer, and William kept his composure and tried to avoid reacting.


    "Corrupting him into sin?" asked William.


    "Please, Neral Dinis would have made the offer anyway, as Jehair can tell you," said Farasa. She stepped away and mesmerized everyone around her with the swing of her hips. "I simply sped things up. Reg was an obvious target. And his entire family is steeped in sin. All I did was allow him to become something more. By taking it, he has assisted in my efforts."


    "And apparently, we have been your pawns," said Jehair.


    "I prefer to think that I channeled your destiny toward greatness," said Farasa with a smile. "Had I not arranged for you to be attacked by that ship, you would never have rescued Kata.


    "So you would have healed a few injured and left."


    "I don''t like being manipulated," said William.


    "Get used to disappointment," said Farasa, turning to him. "So, is there anything you want?"


    "I was taught to beware people bearing gifts," noted William.


    "Call it the repayment of a debt," said Farasa, piercing him with eyes. "You were of use, so I owe you thanks. What do you want?"


    William struggled to maintain his grip. "I think you owe more than one debt, Farasa. Kata and her people, for instance. They were enslaved and shipped to foreign lands by your trap. Go to them first if you want to ease your conscience.


    "For my part, I have nothing to ask now." And he realized it was true. He wanted to be great by his power. Using a favor would be akin to admitting defeat.


    Farasa looked disappointed, then strode past him to stand inches from Kata''s face. Kata blushed at their proximity as Farasa shifted before her. "As you wish.


    "Call if you need me. I suppose I''ll see about the Furbearers."


    What Kata and Farasa spoke of, William didn''t hear.


    Everything seemed to blur together, and soon, Farasa was back before them. Everyone went about their business. Finally, William decided to ask questions. "What are these Barabassians doing here? And how did they not know of this?"


    "They have several such smuggler ports in Escor, and this one has been held recently," said Farasa. "However, many other customers have come to this auction. As for how they did not know, they have a decentralized system.


    "Many in Ascorn did not know this port or the others. It was set up specifically by Omar to cater to the desires of the Babarassian elites."


    "She''s right," said Tanith, looking at Farasa in irritation. "It turns out there is documentation of several different smugglers'' caves. Shipments of supplies further down in Escor, including near Magicora." Farasa seemed somehow insulted by Tanith''s disregard for her. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What, is destiny too good for you?" asked Farasa.


    "I don''t need it," said Tanith. "I am Tanith Telus. I fear not death or pain or agony. By my hand alone are my enemies slain. If you dare to try and alter my fate, you will be cut down like a tree." Farasa flinched, and Tanith looked back to William. Tanith used to be obsessed with beautiful women. "This is great news.


    "We''ve needed a war to fight."


    "Jehair, check outside this cave with Felix. See if you can pick up any trails leading inward," said William with a sigh. "I expect they must have some kind of outpost or base on land. A supply chain of sorts.


    "One could not set all this up without work."


    Then he took Tanith to one side. "Tanith, I want you to figure out where all these smugglers'' ports are. Get together some ships and men to raid them. Interview those we are holding prisoner and find ones who can guide the ships.


    "Once you have done that, go to Lord Rius and suggest we initiate raids on them. Say nothing of the fact that I told this. Given what was revealed here, I think he will happily unleash you on them. He may even know the locations.


    "Now, this part is essential. Rius may attempt to subvert your loyalty.


    Tanith blinked in surprise. "You don''t suppose he is that stupid, do you?"


    "I think he believes you''ve been alienated from me," said William. "Your family is of immense value to House Gabriel and among our most trusted friends and allies.


    "If you were to be turned, political marriage to an ally or some other arrangement could do. So I want you to make your frustrations known."


    "Okay, why?" asked Tanith, looking to where Farasa had her arms crossed. She seemed irritated at the lack of attention.


    "I had initially taken Rius to be a reasonable man who let things get out of hand," said William. "However, now I think he is a villain who fell into a pit of his own making." That was perhaps the understatement of the century. However, the men had not been privy to their earlier conversation. "If so, he may be grateful and turn over a new leaf.


    "Or he may decide we are trying to exert power over him and try to weaken us. Certainly, he would already be our enemy if he were part of this. You are the apparent weak point."


    Tanith halted. "What do you mean?"


    "People think you''re reckless and stupid," said William. "You''re not, but the casual way you present yourself makes you seem less intelligent. So, first, I want you to take all of this information to Amenos. Then, once done, I want you to go to Rius and tell him about Omar. Make it casual, as if you don''t think it''s important."


    "But why would we want to throw away Omar? Isn''t he a useful piece," said Tanith.


    "The only possible use Omar could have would be blackmail," said William, looking to Farasa. "And we already have the written documents from his ship. So we can''t negotiate with him without going above Rius'' head, and we can''t interrogate him.


    "Not honorably anyway, especially since the Babarassians have shifted loyalties. Make it clear to him that we are at his disposal and don''t seek any needless confrontations. Humor him unless he does something to threaten our houses directly."


    "Right, right," said Tanith. "Can I have the ships?"


    "Yes, yes, so long as the usual plunder rules are applied," said William. "No slave-taking, though; it could alienate Kata."


    "Okay, but what is the end game here?" asked Tanith. "Why am I doing this?"


    "Tavish Kern had some plan for this place, Tanith," said William. "It may still be in motion and may have involved Rius. I have to go south to Gel Carn and can''t do anything. Father can''t send anyone down here without risking trouble.


    "So, I need you to act as my agent in this matter. Observe events and keep Amenos informed. He reports directly to Rusara and will have channels.


    "With any luck, you can stop Tavish''s plan when it begins."


    "Right, should Kata know about this?" asked Tanith, looking to Farasa. "And can she hear us?"


    "If she chooses to, there is little we can do to stop her," noted Felix. "As for Kata, I wouldn''t. She isn''t trained in this kind of thing."


    "We have to tell her something, Felix. She''s our ally," said Tanith. "I''ll give it to her in broad strokes and tell them it''s really important no one knows."


    "Make sure you tell only her, Tanith," said William.


    "Will you stop staring at us!" shouted Tanith.


    Farasa laughed. "You know, Father will give you to me after they kill you, Tanith. I''m looking forward to it."


    And a red ribbon surged from behind her. It wrapped around Farasa''s long legs, binding them together. It then worked its way up her slim waist and covered her breasts, shoulders, and face. For a moment, she stood there, mummified, before the cloth unraveled. Farasa had disappeared.


    Nothing remained.


    "...We ought to set a guard on this place, just in case any new ships arrive," said Tanith. "We can use them as them; communication isn''t good at sea."


    "Do as you will," said William. "I need to meet with Jehair."


    "We probably shouldn''t return for some time," noted Felix. "Once Dunmoore arrives, the balance of power will shift. We ought to leave like thieves in the night. He was giving orders that everyone cooperate with Lord Rius and Kata.


    "Disappearing out of nowhere will make Rius think we''ve simply moved on and forgotten him. He''ll likely show his true colors then."


    "Well, that sounds fun," said Tanith. "Let''s get to it."


    William liked looking at Farasa. But he was glad he didn''t have her eyes on him anymore.


    And, at the very least, William Gabriel and Felix walked out of the cave. From the earth, they walked into the welcome air of daylight. The trees swayed in an errant breeze. The sky above had a few whiffs of cloud, but the air was crisp and clean.


    At last, they had escaped from Ascorn.


    Their journey had finally begun, and William was about ready to go home.


    This did not bode well.

 Chapter Thirteen: New Paths

    William had a bad feeling about this.


    Having taken a long tunnel out, he sat outside the cave and found guards who had fled with their weapons. That meant someone would be coming by soon enough, so he posted guards to watch. But, for now, he and Felix were playing cards while looking at a rocky and beaten path. On either side were dark woods with many stones and loose earth.


    They led up into highlands south and west toward the Black Mountain. West was Magicora, and you could see the white walls shimmering distantly. It looked much more beautiful than Ascorn, with hedges and a radiant aura. It was a shame they wouldn''t be going there. It loomed high, casting a vast shadow over them.


    Felix had gotten the deck from a girl in Ascorn, that dancer they''d seen.


    "Did you know what an unwinnable hand is?" asked Felix.


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "In cards," said Felix. "It is possible to get a totally unwinnable hand. No matter what move you make or the cards you draw, you cannot win.


    "See, the starting conditions of the deck determine the game.


    "If you get the wrong starting conditions at the wrong time, you are defeated. What do you do then?"


    "Your enemy might make a mistake," noted William. "Appear weak and foolish and offer an easy victory. Then, kill them. Father did that at Desora and Raynald at Savior''s Run."


    "Yes," said Felix. "But what if no negotiation were possible? How long could he have held? And if he had held, what matters would have slipped his notice?"


    William looked around at the forest that came to an end near a city that had nearly been destroyed. How much worse was everything around him. "Baltoth must have known this was happening.


    "So he must have a use for Harlenor."


    "Which is?" asked Felix.


    "His empire may be more fragile than I thought," said William. "Perhaps he believes Father''s offer was better than what he would get by conquest. Malas is a resource, and we have little love for it.


    "It is not impossible that it could be destroyed."


    "Does that make Baltoth your friend?" asked Felix.


    "No," said William.


    "Why not?" asked Felix.


    "Nations don''t have friends," said William. "They have interests.


    "Individual people can love one another as brothers. But a nation is not a person. A man can be a ''good'' King and yet be a monster. Politics is not personal."


    "Does that not apply to you, too?" asked Felix.


    William was silent for a moment, unsure of where this was going. He wondered if he should just ask Felix to elaborate.


    "What are you getting at Felix?" asked William.


    "You have had more than one enemy in your company, and there will be more," said Felix.


    "I know," said William. "I have no intention of saving the world. I plan to help as many people as possible while getting to Gel Carn. This is all far too large for me to deal with me.


    "It would be pure vanity to try."


    "You might have no choice," said Felix. "Farasa has the power to make sure people are in the right place and time. You''ve gotten her attention."


    William looked to see Jehair coming back, scythe in hand. Her hair was a bit messy, and she was combing it. Her clothes had been soaked in mud and dirt. "Jehair, what news? Do you need healing?"


    "A number of our enemies came on me while I was out," said Jehair. "I sent them off with a few bruises. But it was a near thing, and I had to hide in a ditch to keep them off."


    "Find anything?" asked William.


    "I''ve found a path," said Jehair. "There are tracks of recent comings and goings all throughout this way. Some go off into villages that are better documented. Others go to less-known villages that are not official.


    "And a few heads off toward the Black Mountain. Those ones have a lot of wagon wheels. Someone has been shipping good up a path in that area. We could create an outpost on the upper slopes.


    "This side of the mountain is comparatively level. Therefore, if one could arrange for safe passage through the giants, it could make a good trade route."


    "You could not hold this operation without a supply source," said Felix. "Ships arrive unpredictably, and you would need a constant watch. Not to mention someone to pay off officials.


    "The villages around here would need to be on the take.


    "And the Lords must have at least some idea this is here. So there must be some purpose."


    "We''ll follow these tracks as far as we can," said William, looking to Jehair. He contemplated whether she would lead them into an ambush. "We''ll see what we can find out there. If we can locate this place, it may be of use.


    "You may take some time to wash, of course."


    "Very well," said Jehair. "I will go to a stream near here."


    William had already done so. Looking up at the skies, he reflected that this was the part in the fantasy where he went to find her. There he''d find her naked and waist-deep in water, her hair around her nubile form. The fantasy played across his mind several times.


    It was only a fantasy, so he remained silent.


    And Jehair returned, looking a little irritated at one thing or another. William guessed that she hoped to use him for some purpose. Given an elven lifespan, she would outlive him by far. Getting him to be infatuated with her could be useful.


    "Let''s go," said William. "To find this village."


    Jehair nodded. "I had often walked these lands and intended to go around here when I guided you. There are several villages here, just north of the Black Mountain. The land here is of no use for planting, and the people of this land are woodsmen.


    "Few indeed march to war often and have provided shelter and protection for many in bad times."


    "Do you think they are involved in these bandit attacks?" asked William.


    "There are good and bad people among all factions and races, and usually far more bad than good," said Jehair. "I am certain that at least some of them are involved."


    "Wasn''t there something you could do?" asked William.


    "I am a Druid of Laevian, not a Knight of Harlenor," said Jehair hotly. "If the people who fell trees and dry up rivers wish to kill one another, so much the better. Their races will be less of a burden on the land, and those that remain will have better lives.


    "If mortals are so determined to slaughter one another, let them do so. It will reduce the surplus population."


    "Will you help me with this?" asked William.


    "I was enlisted as a guide until you reach Gel Carn," said Jehair, looking away. "If you wish to detour, I shall guide you." This was too obvious; she was obviously trying to give an appearance.


    "Thank you," said William. "Take me to the nearest of these towns. I would speak with those who lead them."


    "No doubt they''ve already seen us," said Jehair. "I spoke to several of them outside the cave and explained the situation."


    "You should have had them seized and hung," said Felix suddenly. "They are surely fully aware of this situation. An example ought to have been made with their corpses."


    "There may be mitigating circumstances," said William.


    "There is no mitigating this," said Felix.


    "I am a guide, not an officer," said Jehair. "I had no notion you had plans to purge the world of crime, and I hadn''t much interest. And killing six people did not appeal to me, whether they were criminals or not. Besides, in doing so, I should make many dangerous enemies for you and me."


    "Very well then," said William. "If there is to be a bloodletting, however, wouldn''t you prefer the people killed off to be the evil ones?"


    "Good and evil are merely different sides of the scale," said Jehair. "If one becomes too heavy, all worlds will fall out of balance. The world will be in harmony only when both are kept in check in proper amounts." She halted and saw their gaze. "What is it? You look at me as though I have grown a second head?"


    William wanted to say, ''don''t talk damned nonsense.'' But it didn''t seem appropriate.


    "It''s nothing," said William. "Lead on."


    Whether she believed that or not, Jehair was involved in this. William does not suspect she was using him as cover to escape complicity in events. She seemed to have been expecting someone else. Unfortunately, William had not lived up or down to those expectations. It is best to appear less confident and powerful now, for a time.


    "They should be waiting for us, I think," said Jehair after a moment. "Let us hope things will continue smoothly."


    "You set up a meeting?" asked Felix.


    "I told them I had a powerful healer who could aid their sick and injured," said Jehair. "There seems to have been a sickness among them of late. Such things happen now and then."


    "Let it pass, Felix," said William. "I just want to help people."


    "With respect, William," said Felix. "This is completely outside of her-" He saw William''s gaze. "Fine, do what you want."


    "...That seems to be a common occurrence," said Jehair with a smile. "I also assured them that Rius cannot attack them so long as you are with them. While your presence allows me to observe things."


    "Very clever," said William. "Why the short-term arrangements?"


    "I had very little time, and the plan seemed the only reasonable one to start with," said Jehair.


    And so the journey began.


    The going was rough, and William''s heavy armor made it miserable. His strength was enough to keep at it, of course. But Felix and Jehair seemed to go lighter of the foot, so he had to strain to keep at the head. The sun beat down from above, yet William often thought he saw flashes of pink in the air. As though some magic was around them.


    They halted by a fast-flowing stream that came from the mountains. The tree branches hung low over it like trying to drink from the clear waters. Here, he washed himself of sweat with Felix. He did so separately from Jehair and had Felix keep watch. When he returned, he found Jehair cooking a rabbit meal over a stake.


    "Why a scythe?" asked William. "I''ve never heard of any fighting techniques like that."


    "Most of my work has been done elsewhere," said Jehair. "I, much like Lamech, received my training in foreign parts."


    "Do you know Lamech?" asked William.


    "I''ve encountered him several times," said Jehair. "He killed a very dear friend of mine. "In fact, he was a very dear friend of mine. Though it was long ago in a different life, and it''s bad form to hold grudges against reincarnations."


    "Why?" asked William.


    "Sometimes, someone in one life is terrible," said Jahair. "But then in the next, they become a saint. So, the first life is a kind of learning curve.


    "You''re only allowed to pursue vendettas against people for their lives in this life."


    "The art of revenge?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Jahair. "What of your own view?"


    "Revenge is an obligation," said William. "A crime must be avenged in some form, whether by law or steel. However, vengeance must be achieved solely through good deeds. And you should pursue it in such a way as to end the grievance, not perpetuate it.


    "It is an art form."


    "Ridiculous," said Felix. "Revenge is never a justifiable decision. Justice must be carried out impartially by authority figures.


    "A King who would not burn his wife at stake for adultery could never be a real King."


    "It might be the end of the Kingdom," said Jahair.


    "I was not saying that it was an attainable concept," said Felix. "Of course, personal motivation is important. House Gabriel uses it to great effect.


    "But personal politics are something that should be avoided.


    "For reasons which by this point must seem all too obvious."


    "Hey Jehair!" came a call. "It''s me, Imogen!"


    Jehair closed her eyes sadly. "Not her again."


    William looked up and saw Imogen waiting by the village. She was waving and clad in formfitting violet clothes with a knife at her hip and a bow over one shoulder. Her body was very slim, with slight breasts. Though her hips were quite wide to compensate. Her face was fair and almost elven in appearance, but she had bright pink eyes with a mischievous gleam.


    "Farwa''s agent?" asked William.


    "Oh yeah, you," said Imogen. "Your name this time is uh..."


    "This time?" asked William.


    "Reincarnation thing," said Imogen. "I''m talking to the person behind your eyes."


    "William," said William.


    "Oh, okay," said Imogen. "So, uh, took a bit long with the healing out there. But I think we can use you."


    "His presence should buy us some time against Rius," said Jehair. "Or more."


    William said nothing, just pretended not to react. He wanted to observe events.


    "That depends," said Imogen. "Are you here by choice?"


    "I wear armor and a sword, do I not?" asked William.


    "That doesn''t mean you have a choice," said Imogen. "Lots of people think they have a choice until they want to do something their handler doesn''t want them to. Then they find out who owns them, the buffalo-headed morons.


    "Follow me; we''ve got a lot more people to heal here. Though I have to admit, you''ve got some seriously odd choices.


    "Last time, you were way more vicious.


    "I''ve never seen you so focused on healing people. Sometimes, you do it to show how kind and good you are. But this is way more extreme."


    "I am a Paladin," said William, bemused. "And do you know one another? And me?"


    "Yes," said Jehair. "I knew Imogen before she became a Goddess.


    "We have been longtime associates. And both of us have met you on several occasions."


    "I see," said William, not feeling particularly warm at this reunion. "My purpose is to defend people from evil. That includes diseases. And most Paladins don''t do it, so I use my powers to heal others wherever I can."


    "It''s also good tactics," said Felix. "Armies with William attached have a much higher survival rate. Both from diseases and wounds. So they do better on the battlefield."


    "That''s cleric talk if I''ve ever heard it," said Imogen, spinning a knife into the air and catching it. Then she turned toward the village. William wondered how such formfitting pants did not chafe her. Or how their violet color was not drenched in mud?


    Oh, right, Goddess. "Let''s go."


    They followed her. William knew he could not allow injured and sick people to go untreated. They were in the middle of a plague, after all.


    "What are you doing here, Imogen?" asked William, feeling an odd sense of familiarity.


    "Playing the game," said Imogen, balancing her knife on one finger. "Broke off from you a while ago because you got a little ruthless for my tastes. Hung out with some different heroes and came back here.


    "I show up for most heroes at some point, provided they''re my type."


    "And what is your connection with these events?" asked William.


    "I''m the Goddess of Thieves," said Imogen. "And right now, I''m stealing you."


    "Why is a Goddess of Thieves helping to destroy criminals?" asked William.


    "Thieves don''t like organized crime," said Imogen. "Organized crime takes all the fun out of things. You can''t make any daring escapes when everything is controlled.


    "It''s all the brutality of evil without any of the fun.


    "So I generally sew chaos for the greater good while stealing the Paladin''s wallets."


    They entered a town with stone structures and no surrounding wall. Many here seemed to be herding pigs. Imogen showed them to the sick and injured, and there were a lot of sick. People William asked about things told him stories of armed men heading up to the mountains. Others spoke of armed men moving up through the port for some time.


    "We often get escaped slaves from the plantations," said a man. "Sometimes they carry diseases our healers are unable to cure effectively."


    "And what use do you put them to?"


    "We have any number of tasks we assign them. Every man in this place must pull his weight," said the man.


    More news came in.


    People reacted with indifference that Rius had been restored. Things had been getting bad long before Reg took power. Many doubted things would get any better.


    There had been several revelations of major corruption by numerous officials by Rius. In addition, a great deal more illegal goods have been found by Tanith and piled in front of the keep. She had someone explain where it was found and who their business associates were. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Why?" asked Imogen.


    "If I had a guess, Tanith has decided Rius will not make enough killing of the guilty for her tastes," said William. "So she''s blowing the lid on how corrupt everything had gotten under Reg to force his hand.


    "Frankly, I know that Rius knew of some of this long before Reg. But I expect he''ll hang Arkan''s officials and leave his own in place. Or he may let them escape into the night.


    "In any case, there is likely to be a complete breakdown in the slave trade for a while. With all the normal facilities seized, the next shipment has nowhere to arrive. Their business partners are gone, possibly hanging even now. Especially since Kata seems to be making common cause with Rius."


    "So they''ll have to sell to alternative markets at a loss," noted Imogen. "What about the shipment after?"


    "It will be much smaller, should the truce between House Gabriel and Calisha hold," said Felix. "Without a war, there is little opportunity to take slaves."


    William considered this. "If the slave trade in this region breaks down, the new plantations will have no means to till their fields. The land will simply sit there, lying fallow and growing into wildlands. And the longer it goes on, the more expensive it will be."


    "Even if they can get new slaves, they must repair and maintain the property. And while the land stands empty, others will move into it."


    "So, what are we going to do?" asked Imogen.


    "I''m going to go to every village in these places by the fastest route and heal everyone," said William. "Once done, I will suggest that they release their slaves to do as they will."


    "I think this is an opportunity to get some treasure," said Imogen with a smile.


    "What does money have to do with anything?" asked William.


    "Treasure to a heavenly being can mean many things," said Imogen.


    "You have larger problems," said William. "I''ve seen these sicknesses before; I treated some of them in Artarq. How villagers are there like this one, and how many others need healing?"


    "Other villages need it," said Jahair. "Not all of them are with us, and the satyrs may also have need."


    "There are satyr clans?" asked William, raising an eyebrow.


    "Many satyrs who escape have no interest in this place," said Imogen. "They prefer to raid and plunder and often carry out operations to free slaves or kill guards. Some of the villages sell them wine purchased from Tavish. He relays it from Khasmir, and we trade it for satyr slaves taken in battle by the clans.


    "Others simply transport it along trade routes to bypass the normal customs."


    "You have a population of escaped slaves, and you sell slaves," said William.


    "We used to," said Uther, who had moved out to this place since Ascorn. In fact, he seemed to be the one running it. However, he was now holding a hammer and had slightly trimmed his beard. "It provided a reason for Atravain and the nobility to not wipe us out. For my part, I find the practice abhorrent and do not allows it. But some do not.


    "Though in recent times, they have stopped buying it as much. Someone seems to have organized these satyrs who aren''t selling their own as much. We''d had to fight off several attacks, probing strikes."


    "Why not farm in the first place?" asked William.


    "That land in this region is no good for crops for the most part," said Uther. "The rough ground does not yield much. Otherwise, Lady Atravain should have expanded her plantation here.


    "We know of crops and roots that can grow to avoid starving. But our chief business has always been a refuge for those with nowhere else to go.


    "We had done some great business with the Babarassians, actually. Though we had a skirmish with some crews that tried throwing their weight around."


    William thought about his next question carefully. "How long have they been associated with Tavish Kern?"


    "Some five years now," said Uther. "He came initially as a representative of Arkan Lantan, with support from the Body Runners. Arkan is the person we rely on, as his influence prevents Atravain and others from going after us."


    "And in return, you supply his agents?" asked William.


    "Supplying is most of our business," said Uther. "You see, Arkan Lantan has promised the people here funding and lets us continue as we are. In return, we don''t question anything that happens. Sometimes Tavish takes shipments through here; other times, it''s Lamech. We take the money and look the other way.


    "They ship wine from Seathorius, steel from the Nakmar. Also, textiles and runestones from Gel Carn and many other things. All of those operations are headed by former slaves whom Arkan employs. They have an outpost here and set things up.


    "In addition, they give...


    "Protection."


    "Protection?" asked William, having a feeling he knew the answer.


    "Yes, from the bandits and outlaws who forced so many towns into selling," said Uther. "Though they are very well-trained bandits. Satyrs, bowmen, and even a few former nobles.


    "It''s gotten even worse these days, though."


    "Why?" asked William.


    "The bandits used to do good sport in the Wolven Forest of Gel Carn," said Uther. "However, Adrian Wrynncurth, who has authority, gave the land to Telix, a wolf demon. Telix terrorized the bandits into fleeing. Many died or were forced into the plains. Sir Frederick and the halflings rode them down.


    "The rest fled into other parts and swelled the numbers of those in the north. And, as more villages were forced outlands, there was a ready supply of armed, dangerous men."


    "Many of those in these villagers were among them. We just want to be left alone to mind our affairs, and Arkan lets us do that. Others took up with Reg, but there are some...


    "They were bad from the start and only got worse after losing what they had. And every time they do a raid, they make others worse. See, bandits go after people who can''t defend themselves, and Atravain and her friends buy them out."


    William paused. "When did you begin working here?"


    "Well, I was working out here for a time but went into Ascorn," said Uther. "Caught a disease, got robbed blind. Then I got healed and came back here to finish things up."


    "And why has this disease gone unchecked?" asked William.


    "The Healer''s Guilds," said Uther. "Diseases get worse the more they spread, and the more they spread, the worse they get. Before the Healer''s Guild arrived, this disease would have been stopped cold. Or at least slowed down.


    "Now, though, it''s everywhere."


    William nodded. "Well then.


    "We have a crisis. Could you send word to all the surrounding places that I will heal anyone who needs it for free? Just get them to me.


    "Jehair, what of the Healer''s Guild itself.


    "I wonder if they did not introduce this plague deliberately. Think about it; they can heal themselves and their families. If they shut down all the healers and make themselves the only option..."


    "They could tyrannize over us completely," said Uther. "I''ve seen a lot of that already in this life."


    "No, they couldn''t," said Felix. "If the disease got bad enough, it would completely destroy all business. Once that happened, you''d see a general collapse. Or at least chaos breaks out, and communications fall apart."


    "To what end?" asked William. "Someone must have known the results of this kind of pandemic?"


    "Perhaps they wish to take advantage of the chaos to advance their plans," said Felix.


    "Wouldn''t the disease kill them?" asked William.


    "Diseases do not harm elves," said Jehair. "We do not suffer them as mortals do.


    "And many elven nations would be only too happy to see such death as a means of revenge. King Faras of the Wood Elves has long been bitter. You must also consider that demons are not weakened.


    "Dragons, too, might cause such a thing."


    "There''s no proof of that," said William. "The Healer''s Guild could not have cared what happened as long as they made a short-term profit. I find it more likely the person who initiated this plan expects to live in luxury.


    "And dragons, I assure you, have better things to do with their time. Adrian Wrynncurth is one of the richest men in the world. His relatives have comparable wealth. He keeps it by having good relations with the nobility.


    "This kind of tactic is beneath him and makes no sense."


    "What do you intend to do, William?" asked Uther.


    "For a start, we must find every potential source of healing that is being restricted," said William. "Once we have all of them, we can plan to use them.


    "The Guild itself, however, should be destroyed. We have more than enough justification."


    "We do know many of their locations," said Uther.


    "We can''t destroy the Guild," said Jehair quickly.


    "Why not?" asked Imogen with a smile.


    "It will take time to get all those healers back to work. Some of them won''t be able to treat the disease," said Jehair quickly. "Some are probably dead or gone from the Healer''s Guild, and some are likely part of it.


    "We have to use them before we destroy them.


    "Who is their support? Even if they have funding from Antion, they must work with local elites. Find the Lords who support them, and you can use them as a channel to destroy your real enemy."


    "We''d never be allowed a meeting with them," said Uther. "We''re just uneducated commoners to them."


    "Not all of us," said William. "Jehair, after we''re done here, I want you to lead me to some regional castles, and along the way, I will heal everyone you can. Once I arrive, I will arrange for them to take our side."


    "And how does the serpent intend to take over the entire country of Antion?" asked Jehair. "By asking nicely?"


    "Why not?" asked William. "And who says anything about taking place over. I''ve no ambitions in that direction at all.


    "Uther, if I were you, I would start planning to break from these criminals. Talk to all your friends and contacts. You have to come up with a means to separate yourself from them. Otherwise, you''ll be cut loose and made a scapegoat by someone else.


    "You need to save yourselves."


    Uther nodded.


    "Where''s Imogen?" asked Felix.


    No one knew or could say when she''d left. William had a bad feeling about this.

 Chapter Fourteen: Left Behind

    Tanith Telus was not happy.


    The cover had been nice a while ago with serene waves and blood-soaked rock. Not anymore, since it had been cleaned up and the ships seized. Omar had only been allowed one, which she had not stripped of anything but slaves. Personally, she didn''t see why he ought to be let go, but William seemed to think he was honor-bound to do it.


    A hundred Babarassian defenders were dead here, two or three of their own. It was a pretty good trade, and that made it boring. Farasa had used them like glorified executioners, ruining the fun.


    "I don''t see why we had to let those Babarassian pigs go," said a man, who had joined in with her forces.


    "This is all their fault anyway," said another one.


    "Silence you," said Tanith. "It''s a matter of honor and principle.


    "William decided that we were honor-bound to do it, so that''s as far as the discussion goes! Or do I have to enforce some discipline?"


    "They''re just going to come back," said the man.


    "It doesn''t work that way," said Kata.


    "Then why don''t you tell us how it works, you dark-skinned-" began a man.


    "Enough," said Tanith. "We needed someone to bring word on what happened here to the Babarassians. Emile isn''t enough, and now they''ll be running scared.


    "If we let Omar live with some of his treasure, that sends a clear message and gives us an opening to negotiate later. Only an idiot fights a war on two fronts, and we might have to. This is how House Gabriel operates. You negotiate a settlement with someone who is reasonable. Then you crush the people who won''t work with you.


    "We''ve already smashed these Babarassians; we''ve got more important things to deal with."


    "What about the colonies?" asked Kata. "The ones in my land."


    What was with Kata and her people? Tanith considered how she would react if the Babarassians attempted such a thing. But it wouldn''t matter because they would fail miserably. If anything, Tanith thought she''d be angry at her people for being so weak.


    But Kata wouldn''t like that response.


    "They aren''t here, and we can''t deal with them now," said Tanith. "If Elranor says you''ll get your people back. You''ll get your people back. Omar being dead won''t change anything.


    "But, if he''s alive and advocates for cutting and running? That might help. He''s more useful to House Gabriel alive, and we gave our word, so we''d have to do it anyway. You have to keep your promises."


    "Well, what if-" began Kata.


    "No Kata," said Tanith. "There is no arguing with that.


    "Either your word is worth something, or it isn''t. William believed that his promise to Emile applied to Omar. Omar made the smart decision, so that is the end of it. Now, keep control of things here.


    "And any of you who know about this, I want you to go to the Paladins. Tell them everything about the gangs. Everything. The operation is moving into their area of influence now that House Gabriel is gone.


    "That means if they find any dirty little secrets you didn''t tell them about, you''ll have a problem. Talk to them, get any plunder you''ve made official, and help them do whatever they want. Farwa is smart, and she''s about to have unrestricted power, or I''m a fool.


    "We deal with her, or we deal with King Andoa later."


    The men shuddered. King Andoa''s reputation proceeded him. No one wanted to be on his bad side, a saint or not.


    Then she sighed and walked back down the tunnel, now lit by torches. She felt very low and mournful, and even more so now. It got like this after a bloodletting sometimes.


    William had scolded her, rejected her, and sent her off to Rius. She''d known she''d messed up, but she ought to have gone with him. Anyway, she had to return with Kata to where the Paladins had been dismissed. Only Farwa remained, sitting on a box and speaking with Suran.


    There was an argument going on. Suran was arguing and motioning to the ships. Farwa seemed irritated with him, but Tanith knew it was no good asking. So she listened in to one side; Paladins were bad at this.


    "I just think we should be checking with Rius," said Suran. "This is his city. The rules are clear."


    "The rules mean nothing in this context Suran," said Farwa, who looked tired. "Ascorn is in complete chaos. We have a mission, and consulting Rius could compromise or delay us.


    "Even if he isn''t involved, he''d be a liability."


    "We can''t just abandon the chain of command when it doesn''t suit us," said Suran firmly. "We''re in his command right now. Technically."


    "You are in my command," said Farwa. "And by the authority invested in me by Lord Dunmoore, we are operating on our own counsel.


    "We can''t risk it. Am I clear?"


    Suran went silent for a moment.


    "Yes, ma''am," said Suran.


    Tanith sighed, feeling more depressed and despondent by the moment. She doubted she''d sleep very well tonight. Why did she get these moods where she''d feel good and then suddenly feel bad? S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Was it because William was gone?


    "Why is William sending me off?" muttered Tanith, looking to the rough seas. It was good to see them splashing. "I could go with him a bit. And why do I have to pretend I will betray him anyway? It''s not like anybody who knows me would ever think I''d betray him.


    "I mean, come on, I''m a knight, and he''s the son of my Lord. Never going to happen."


    "Ugh, this thing is heavy," said a voice.


    Tanith looked up and saw a set of boxes being carried out by Furbearers. Why had they not been shown to William? And why only now when attention had fallen elsewhere. Kata was there and turned to find Tanith before her.


    "Tanith, you''re back," said Kata


    "What''s in the box?" asked Tanith.


    "Some documents," said Kata. "Shipping records one of my lieutenants wanted." Incriminating documents? That could be useful. "So, where''s William?"


    "Gone," muttered Tanith. "You won''t see him anymore. And there wasn''t anything I could do. Jehair and Felix also went out into the wilds and never came back."


    "Oh, I see," said Kata, going white. What was her problem?


    "...What?" asked Tanith, surprised.


    "Nothing, nothing at all," said Kata, looking afraid. It was a good look.


    "You should take this stuff to Amenos," said Tanith.


    "Why?" asked Kata. "I thought the Dust Elves were on the same side as House Gabriel."


    "Side is sort of vague, but yeah, more or less," said Tanith. "If Amenos gets this, we can use it later.


    "William''s orders."


    "His..." Kata halted and raised a hand. "What are you... But you just said... You said you killed him."


    Fighting William seemed appealing, but killing him? Never. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Kata. Do you really think I could take all three at once without a scratch? And do so fast enough that nobody noticed? Plus, I''d have to move the bodies or take them out far enough away that no one would notice.


    "William is wearing heavy, signature armor. And Jehair has friends all over who know this place better than me. Plus, it''d be very easy to figure out who''d have the opportunity and ability to take them out.


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    "Although what motive you could give is beyond me."


    "Oh, thank death," said Kata.


    "You''re welcome," said Tanith.


    "So what is William''s plan?" asked Kata, looking at Tanith.


    "At present?" asked Tanith. "He doesn''t think Rius has been honest with us. William is afraid that he might have been part of this operation. So he wants me to make myself out as having questionable loyalty or something.


    "Really seems like a weak plan, but not my problem. My problem is making it work. I mean, whoever going believe I''d stab William in the back?"


    "Believe it or not, a lot of people," said Kata.


    Tanith blinked. "... You''re serious?"


    "Well, you''re always talking about how you like killing people," said Kata. "And you had an argument with William earlier where he chewed you out, so-"


    "Just because I like killing people doesn''t mean I''d betray my friends!" said Tanith. What was wrong with her. "Never mind, this can work in my favor. Help me bring this out to Amenos, will you? Where is he?"


    "He has set up operations at the Steel Arm. But the Paladins are there," said Kata.


    "Oh good, you can trust them," said Tanith.


    "But you said not to trust anybody," said Kata.


    "You can trust Elranor. The Paladins are operating as extensions of Elranor''s will," said Tanith. "Otherwise, they would not be Paladins."


    "How do we know they aren''t being deceived?" asked Kata. "They''ll surely bring news of the documents right to Rius since he''s the legitimate Lord."


    Tanith considered that and thought she was right. "Well, what do you suggest instead?"


    "We should keep the trunk on my ship, the one you gave me," said Kata. "And we ought to wait for the cover of night before going out to it. If we go out with the trunk now, everyone will see us and wonder what we are doing.


    "Someone is sure to figure out, or at least guess near enough that they''ll demand an explanation."


    "Haven''t you been taking plunder?" asked Tanith.


    "No," said Kata. "Why would we? Looting and pillaging are wrong."


    Kata was weird. "You are new, aren''t you?


    "The money here is fair game. They were your enemies, and you killed them fairly. You get to take what you want."


    "Well, I don''t want any of this," said Kata, motioning to other boxes. "What am I going to use it for? It''s just a bunch of metal circles you people obsess over. You can''t take it with you when you die."


    "Buying weapons and armor so you can kill the Babarassians," said Tanith. "Purchasing back the enslaved and sold people before you got here. Purchasing the services of stonemasons to teach your people how to build fortifications. Educate yourself in culture and history that you might learn from both, and rule wisely. Purchasing and creating great works of art to enhance the lives of your people. Paying off unexpected expenses that could otherwise be the pretext for an invasion. Purchasing gifts and proper attire when you go to visit neighboring lands." She took a breath. "Purchasing goods and services from merchants. Hiring mercenaries to assist in wars you aren''t qualified for. That and providing the funding necessary to send your agents long distances. Funeral expenses for the fallen. Also, providing worthy sacrifices to the gods in life and repairing structures. Hiring the services of specialists who can perform jobs you can''t. Buying information from abroad. Bribing enemy agents. Paying ransom for captured warriors, so the enemy doesn''t execute-"


    "Okay, fine, so it''s pretty useful before you die," said Kata. "We''ll take it with us. What now?"


    "I''d also take the ships in the cove," said Tanith. "They''ll be pretty useful for a getaway; as for what now, you''ve won a decent victory here. You''ve gotten back some of your kidnapped people. And you have a ship to get them out.


    "You could probably head back to your old lands, though I''d ask Amenos for some seamen to help. I''ll put in a word for him. On the other hand, you could try to get back the people who have already been taken." She didn''t need them anyway.


    "Do you think we can actually do that?" asked Kata.


    "Well, a direct flight would never work," said Tanith. "The cargo has been shipped, and they won''t give it up, whatever law or honor says. Your prisoners know what is happening here and could ruin Rius'' reputation if he has a chance to talk.


    "So Rius will want him back.


    "You could bargain with him to try and buy back your people. Just don''t make it a threat, and wait to give them up until you have a guarantee with witnesses. Make sure the witnesses aren''t in his pocket. Amenos would be good; Dust Elves are big on their word.


    "But you''ll also want someone of similar rank. Ordinarily, William would be a good choice, but he''s away. I''m around the same level as Rius, and there might be some Paladins.


    "I''ll get his word in public, so everyone will know if he lies," said Kata.


    "It doesn''t work like that," said Tanith, leaning against the side of the boat. "Look, the word of a noble is worth a lot. A few commoners say they saw what they saw is not worth nearly as much as Rius. Sure, everybody in Ascorn will know, but Rius can just attribute it to hearsay if he decides to cheat you.


    "Also, circumventing the system will make all the other nobles uneasy. Most of the people out here are neutral to you at best. Start deviating from how things are supposed to be done without a good reason. You''re going to alienate some of them."


    At that moment, a Furbearer with brown hair tied up above his head came forward. He was shorter than Kata and had an axe by his side. "Kata?"


    "What is is, Sokar?" asked Kata.


    "Lord Rius is here," said Sokar.


    Kata looked panicked.


    "Well, we''re going to have to meet him, then," said Tanith.


    "What do I do?" asked Kata.


    Tanith bit her lip. "Leave this to me.


    "You stand in the background and speak only when spoken to. You''re better off having Rius think you''re a complete nonentity. He won''t take any countermeasures if he doesn''t think you have any will.


    "Assuming he''s actually acting in bad faith.


    "For all we know, he''s come to offer to ransom all your countrymen from the plantations. As a show of goodwill."


    "It could happen," said Sokar.


    Tanith turned to see Lord Rius approaching with armed guards. The streets were almost clean by now, and a lot of effort had reduced the smell. The piles of burning refuge had died down, and there were ashes. And most of the bodies had been given a proper burial. Also, the streets were a bit clearer, with many gangs dead or moving off.


    There is no sign of Aras, though.


    Moving to meet Rius, she nodded.


    "Lady Telus, you''re here at last. Is this the leader of the Furbearers?" asked Rius.


    "Yes, this is Princess Kata," said Tanith, motioning to her. "She''s one of the main reasons we could subdue the Babarassians as quickly as she did.


    "Her people have been enslaved and sold here illegally by them."


    "I see," said Rius. "It is unfortunate to see how much damage Reg has done. I shall be certain to set things to right. How many of your people are here, Princess Kata?"


    "My people..." Kata gave a very good impression of nervousness. "The Babarassians slavers seized us. They said that they were acting with your authorization. If William hadn''t saved my ship, we''d have ended up in the same place.


    "We owe you great thanks."


    "You need not thank me," said Rius. "I''m afraid we''ve all had the same problems. I was a prisoner in my house until recently.


    "Tell me, where is Sir Gabriel? I do not note him among your number."


    "William is gone," said Tanith sadly. "He went off into the wilderness, and I don''t think he''ll be coming back here for a long time." Another wasted opportunity for bloodletting.


    "Oh, I see," said Rius, not sounding sad. "I was hoping to thank him for his assistance. Tanith, walk with me, will you? We need to discuss events."


    "I believe that I should-" said Tanith.


    "I must ask you to be patient," said Rius. "This is a Harlenorian matter."


    Tanith did so, and Rius looked at her.


    "So, Tanith, perhaps you could explain William''s sudden disappearance and why it happened?" asked Rius, smiling.


    "William wants to get to Gel Carn," said Tanith with a shrug. "He''s already behind schedule as it is. Do you really think he''d waste his time healing all these commoners if it wasn''t his house on the line?"


    "You sound bitter," noted Rius, touching her shoulder.


    "Is it wrong?" asked Tanith, dearly wanting to stab him. It would be so easy. "I come out here to escort him; he stirs up the embers. Then he leaves me to finish and hold the Furbearer''s hands. Ever since I joined back with him, we''ve been hunting demons or healing people. Hardly any plunder or rewards.


    "There are other things I''d rather be doing."


    "Such as?" asked Rius with a smile.


    "Plundering the riches of Calisha or Babarassia might be a start," said Tanith, looking west. That was true.


    "Well, I imagine you may get your wish at this stage," said Rius. "Lord Dunmoore will be here soon, and I plan to ready a fleet. Our intention is to retake the land that the Babarassians stole.


    "There should be a full campaign with potential for both our houses to make an immense profit."


    "Then why isn''t Kata here? She is the authority on the subject?" asked Tanith.


    "Pay that savage no mind," said Rius. "You''ve indulged her so far, but her people and their fate are of no concern in the grand scheme. The nobility is called to look beyond such matters and make decisions for the good of all.


    "It is a high and lonely destiny, but once you learn to live with it."


    "Kata could still be a problem," said Tanith, shaking her head. "If her people decide to pick a fight rather than go back to how things were, they could get sympathy from commoners. It could make things difficult."


    "Do you have a solution?" asked Rius.


    "Kata could also prove useful," said Tanith, looking her way. Kata was speaking with Sokar in private. Their gaze met. "Her people know their own lands well, better than us. With their knowledge of the terrain, we could take down the Babarassians more easily. Unfortunately, it would also divide many of their soldiers up as guides.


    "So they won''t be able to pose a threat."


    "Do you think they are a threat?" asked Rius.


    "I think they''ll fight rather than accept an overlord," said Tanith. "They''ve got a taste of blood and power, and they like it. Kata is smart for one of its kind.


    "Using them at least gets them out of your city, makes them useful, and helps Dunmoore or whoever is in charge."


    "I see," said Rius. "You raided a Babarassian fleet, didn''t you?"


    "William led us in," said Tanith.


    "Were there any prisoners? Any documentation?" asked Rius keenly.


    "Well, there were," said Tanith. "But William left the illiterate Furbearers in charge of their cells. And I''m here talking with you and could be delayed, while Kata has no idea how these things work.


    "Give them a day and... well, these things have a way of working themselves out."


    Rius considered it. "Then there is no sense in causing a stir.


    "We''d best prepare to meet Lord Dunmoore. I will be relying on you a great deal for what comes next."


    "William ordered me to put myself at your disposal," said Tanith. "Until I receive orders to the contrary, I''m your knight."


    Rius smiled. "Thank goodness."


    Now was where things got dicey.

 Chapter Fifteen: The Plantation Castles

    After Imogen disappeared into the shadows, William went into a flurry of activity. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Praying to the land, the spirits, Laevian, and Elranor, he moved as fast as he could from village to village. He healed everyone he could each time, suggested they free their slaves and moved on. He spoke to those there as they had Uther and learned much.


    Most of the time it was not interesting.


    After a few minor skirmishes with bandits, Jehair began to lead them in zig-zags and proved to know the land well. Soon enough, it began to rain. Eventually, William took shelter beneath some trees. There, he watched the water pour down on the tree branches. The trees were much larger here and the earth richer, so you couldn''t see the treetops.


    It almost seemed like an old elven realm, like were in the tales. But no sign of any fairy or elf was found. William guessed it was a remnant of some ancient town burned out by Anoa the Bright. Or perhaps some other human warlord.


    Elven ruins had a way of staying erect for long ages, for they did not fall apart. Villages did not scavenge them for stones, and nature did not eat away at them. It was one of the things that reminded men of how the world had been. Once or twice, they saw druids and heard tales of wild animals growing in number.


    "Where is all this rain coming from?" asked William.


    "The Flower Maiden is testing us," said Jehair, sitting across from him and munching on some bread. "With enough time, she can shift the trees to channel the winds. So she is doing it now."


    "Why?" asked William.


    "Who can say?" asked Jehair. "Perhaps she wishes to stop or slow us for her own purposes. Or it may be that the Flower Maiden simply desires to test your resolve and will. She is not by nature a talkative deity."


    The rain was pouring harder now. The ground turned to mud.


    "This is no good, William," said Felix. "We can''t possibly heal every village here, not like this. The Paladin Order will already be heading out, and we''ve got to go on. We''ll be able to save the lives of the villages on the way."


    William looked into the cave and saw vines growing up the walls. Moving up to one of them, he saw a flower upon it. Reaching forward, Jehair caught his hand. "That may not be wise."


    William nodded. He remembered the sight of bones uncovered by Massacre''s flames. That had been a near thing; even Kiyora had been taken in by their scent.


    The rain slackened, and Jehair led them on a more direct path. They did as they''d done before, and told stories of Ascorn. In return, they heard other stories of slave escapes and robberies. Jehair kept giving William curious glances, and he wondered why.


    "We''re near legal territory," said Jehair over a warm fire beneath the stars. "I should warn you, slavery is a way of life here. I should not make any bold declarations of the practice as inherently evil."


    "Why would I do that?" asked William.


    "You strike me as an abolitionist," said Jehair.


    "I''m not," said William. "Slavery isn''t evil. It''s just not an effective means of utilizing subordinates."


    "You may think your words somewhat naive later," said Jehair.


    William wondered how she could come to that conclusion. The storehouse had been bad enough, but surely there were better ones. "I''ve seen a great deal already."


    "...Wonderful," said Felix, checking his pack.


    "What is it?" asked William.


    "Our little side adventures have caused us to run low on money earlier than expected," said Felix. "We''ll never make it to Gel Carn at this rate." They''d bought supplies in various towns, and it had added up.


    "Perhaps Imogen stole some," said Jehair.


    "No," said Felix. "I''ve kept careful track of it and put wards on the purse."


    "We could travel faster," mused William.


    "Faster than this?" asked Jehair with a slight smile. "You''d run us ragged if you did so. I was already surprised at the speed at which you moved. Most do not keep such a pace."


    "Our first adventure saw us dashing from danger into danger," said William. "It set the pace for all our other adventures. And we worked with Tanith during the Khasmir campaign, and she keeps a relentless pace.


    "We''ll seek food and shelter with the villages we heal when we need rest. We''ll ask for it without expectation and request supplies. That should save on money."


    "What about inns?" asked Jehair.


    William blinked. "...Why would we be staying at an inn?"


    "Most nobility do," said Jehair. "Do you mean to say you don''t stay at inns?"


    "I''ve never even slept in one," said William. He frowned. "It''s too expensive. I wish I knew where Massacre was. She ought to have met us by now. What could be taking her?"


    "She is a servant of Typhos," said Felix. "Perhaps Massacre has some other business in these parts on her behalf."


    "Perhaps," said Jehair.


    It rained again, and they were shut down several times between villages. Finally, the ground became muddy, and the path was nearly impossible. Soon, they had to wait for it to dry and find more water. The woods led them astray several times, and they had near misses with satyrs.


    Once, Jehair halted and stooped low by some hoofprints. The roots of many trees had been eaten up, and there was much destruction.


    "What is it?" asked William.


    "Wild hogs," said Jehair. "There have been an increasing number of them lately.


    "Traditionally, the lords hunt them.


    "They have become a plague on the environment. They break fences and devour crops in outlying farmsteads."


    "Wild hogs as a threat to Harlenorians?" asked William, raising an eyebrow.


    At that moment, a huge, bristling thing leaped from the underbrush, tusks rushing at him. William raised his shield and was slammed head-on. The beast bowled him over, and his sword was knocked from his hand. Both went down to the mud, and the tusks knocked his breath from him. His armor stopped it, and his hands grabbed it.


    Throwing it to one side, Felix struck it with his sword. Yet the pig howled in anger at the cut and went at him. Then, darting away into the shadow of a tree, the boar went for William. Jehair was assailed by an even large hog, darting away while slashing at it.


    As to hog came William took his sword in two hands and smote the beast on the neck.


    The blade cut deep but not deep enough. And it kept charging, so his armor sent him knocked hard against a tree. The beast wheeled around and rushed at him in rage, and William brought his sword down to hit it head-on. The blow crushed into the skull and smashed its brain. But it charged on, and he ducked low as it sailed and smashed against a tree. It fell down and lay still.


    Jehair, meanwhile, kept slashing at the pig as it attacked. Little by little, she whittled away at its flesh. Blood flowed more and more as it became ever more enraged. Its tusks smashed the bark off a tree while its eyes flared red.


    Finally, it smashed into a tree and halted.


    Turning with pure hate, it limped forward, bleeding. But Felix stabbed it again, and William hit it once more. At last, it slumped dead.


    "You were saying?" asked Jehair in amusement.


    "As I said," said William, wiping off his blade. "Wild hogs are no threats to Harlenorians." And he controlled the pain of his bruised ribs.


    The pain of their wounds was long in healing.


    "I know that roar," said William. "But it is far off."


    "Should we head for it?" asked Felix.


    "No need; Massacre can find us well enough on her own," said William. "For now, we''ll take a meal early so we don''t have to later and rest while we can.


    "Jehair, take us to the nearest village."


    "There are not very many villages left this way," said Jehair. "Most who dwell here are expert tradesmen or enforcers for the Plantation Castles.


    "All of the regional farmers were thrown off."


    "Then take me to the nearest equivalent," said William.


    Then Felix grasped William by the shoulder. "William." And he pointed.


    William looked up and saw Tavish Kern and Lamech walking together in a company. They were heading toward a tall castle. Near it was encamped a small army, with the banner of the Paladin Order flying distant above it. It symbolized a hand clutching a sword writhed in lightning bolts. There was also the banner of House Marn and many others.


    "So Farasa has led us here," said William.


    "Give the order, William," said Felix, taking his sword in hand.


    "Not yet," said Jehair. "We can use them and follow them to their contacts."


    "We can take it from their corpse," said Felix. "They must have identification."


    "Perhaps they are from one of those houses," said Jehair. "Lord Dunmoore will no doubt be in the castle of Lady Atravain. It seems someone has come expecting a real battle. Or a larger campaign."


    The castle was very tall indeed and not all that wide and of gray stone. The spires were high above them, and a banner was flying above. It showed a deer leaping. A deer was on the road, and Tavish was watching it with interest. He seemed to be sketching it while Lamech stood guard.


    So, William stepped into sight and moved toward them. Lamech looked up in surprise and set a hand to his sword, while Tavish looked disappointed. The deer had leaped away from others standing nearby.


    "Greetings to you," said William.


    "William Gabriel, I presume," said Tavish Kern. "You know me?"


    "We passed one another on the way in Ascorn," said William.


    Tavish looked to Lamech warily, then back to William. "You showing up was common discussion. A lot of people banked on you, shutting Reg''s operations down."


    "I should be flattered," said William wryly. "At present, I am trying to handle the plague that is spreading throughout this place. To whom would I speak for permission?"


    "Dunmoore or Atravain, I guess," said Tavish, adjusting his hair with a laugh. "Atravain is up in the fortress over there, and Dunmoore has her forces at rest now. Paladins have a nebulous kind of authority.


    "Why do you care?"


    "Do you want to live in a realm where everyone is dying?" asked William.


    "No, probably not," said Tavish.


    "This one is dangerous," said Lamech.


    "I know," said Tavish before looking to William. "So, what happens now?"


    "The Lord Rius is trying to make you take the full blame for what happened to the Furbearers," said William. "The Babarassians believe you cheated them. If they do not withdraw their forces, I expect Rius will use Dunmoore to crush them.


    "The Furbearers have become his ally."


    Tavish looked to Lamech, then William. They didn''t trust eachother. "Alright, what is this exactly? A shakedown? Or are you just blustering?"


    "Well, someone is likely to hang for this, and you seem the ideal scapegoat," said William. "Arkan is too far away, Rius is in a position of strength, and I only just arrived. I thought I might give you a chance to explain yourself."


    "Ah, so it''s going to be that kind of conversation, then," said Tavish, putting his sketchbook back into his bag. Then he put an arm near his dagger. "Fine then.


    "I''ll make this simple. Everyone is afraid of House Gabriel. You''ve destroyed the system of bribes and patronage that people use to keep control in Artarq. Once you did that, you started taking out the nobility and replacing them with people loyal to you.


    "You''ve been cutting deals with Baltoth, which hurt many pocketbooks.


    "The general consensus is that you''re trying to turn Artarq into your own kingdom. You already have major holdings in Brisgald, and Edmund Telus is loyal to House Gabriel. Gel Carn is still yours, and more and more people owe you big.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    "I''m just a smuggler trying to look after his interests. I was asked to set up a network, and I did it. So I guess it''s my turn to ask you for an explanation."


    "I''m not sure I owe you one," noted William. "But, as you wish. The bribes and patronage system interfered with our ability to do our duty. Vast amounts of money were being embezzled, and malas operations were being disrupted.


    "As for systems of bribes and patronage, we refuse to pay people extra for doing their job.


    "The nobles we disinherited were given the means to regain their title. It was through political marriage to a replacement. And we disinherited them for rebellion." William looked to Lamech, who seemed to be judging both.


    "Which only happened because you shut down the system of bribes and patronage," said Tavish. "Giving you the perfect excuse to gain control. Seeking great justice has made you do exceedingly well out of things."


    "Corruption is corruption, regardless of the scale of it or how it is done," said William. "Lawful authority must be maintained."


    "Yeah, and what about the villages you came through here?" asked Tavish. "That only happened because of corruption. Atravain, up there in her high tower, forced people into homelessness. What she did was perfectly legal.


    "What does your lawful authority say about that?"


    "Legal codes are inferior reflections of the true moral law," said William. "No lawful man is obligated to follow any law that is evil in nature."


    "So you only have to follow the laws that suit them?" asked Tavish. "How convenient."


    "Well, obviously not," said William. "Only an idiot would disobey a heavily armed knight to his face. And people need only follow the laws that suit what they believe is right.


    "Likewise, the nobility must enforce the laws they believe are right. They abolish those that don''t. They must also follow them and fight for them if need be. Just as if ordinary people believe a law is unjust, they should rebel. They must force the nobles into submission."


    "You''re not serious," said Tavish. "Lamech, what would you say to that?"


    "A man who cannot keep control of the domain he rules deserves to lose it," said Lamech. "And a man who allows himself to be collared without resistance deserves his fate.


    "Weakness should be purged."


    "He is right," admitted William. "Evil thrives in its presence more effectively than the worst fatal flaws." This seemed to irritate Lamech for some reason. There was a sense of wicked vileness about him.


    Not all that important. William had known not to trust him from the start.


    "And what makes you think you won''t get a rebellion with that kind of mindset?" asked Tavish.


    "What makes you think you won''t get a rebellion here?" asked William. "Do you suppose those people you employ in those villages would submit to starvation if you did not? What would they have to lose?


    "From a certain perspective, you are an integral part of the system around us."


    Tavish nodded. "...Fair enough.


    "Lamech, take it easy. I''ll show our friend here where he wants to go.


    "The Calishan slave stays here."


    "Felix is a servant, but I shall respect your wishes," said William.


    Why did people always assume as much? The sun was high overhead, and an east wind blew through their hair.


    "You two will stay here with them while I handle this," said William to Jehair and Felix. "See what you can learn about recent events. Lamech, I believe you and Jehair are already acquainted."


    "We made our marks on one another," said Lamech, adjusting his sword.


    "Is this wise?" asked Felix.


    "I am in full armor, and he has only a knife," said William. "I don''t think someone who wanted me dead would choose this time and place for it."


    "He''s right," said Lamech. "I''d probably just poison you."


    William and Tavish moved to one side toward a series of buildings. As they did, William noticed Tavish and became relieved. So, he was concerned about Lamech as a subordinate.


    "You are associated with Arkan Lantan?" asked William.


    "Yeah, what about it?" asked Tavish.


    "I''m curious about the nature of your organization," said William.


    "Why?" asked Tavish. "You looking to make some money on the side?"


    "Nothing of the sort," said William. "But I think it would be very foolish to become involved in a situation I do not understand.


    "I know Arkan operates with royal approval, but I don''t receive reports on the subject."


    "Well, I''m not giving you one," said Tavish, nearing a large building.


    So he had some loyalty or at least feared being killed off. "As you wish.


    "So, when you willingly signed the Furbearers over to be enslaved by their own King, did you feel anything?"


    "Not really," said Tavish. "I wouldn''t have done it for revenge, but King Gavin wanted it done. So if it''s my royal duty, I make a lot of money by it, and they are my enemy...


    "What''s the problem? They aren''t really citizens of Harlenor."


    "They are people," noted William.


    "Right," laughed Tavish. "Explain to me why it''s worth selling a bunch of people as slaves to work plantations than to lay waste to villages. A lot of people get glorified for the latter."


    "Raiding villages is an act of war, conducted to weaken the enemy," said William. "And had you taken these slaves by war, I would have no argument.


    "However, what is being done to the Furbearers seems to me treachery. Princess Kata informs me that you were a guest in their house."


    "What about it?" asked Tavish. "It was the most effective way to get their numbers and the lay of the land. And anyway, the Furbearers have hardly fought back. Not effectively anyway."


    "Will!" cried a voice.


    William looked up and saw a boy running toward him. Then he realized he was a man much older than him. He wore a green cloak and brown and had a harp at his side.


    "Do not call me that, Anborn," said William.


    "You never had a problem with Tanith saying it," said Anborn.


    "Because Tanith is a better fighter and my oldest friend," said William. "She is close enough for the familiarity to be appropriate."


    "Oh, okay," said Anborn. "So it''s sort of a romantic thing."


    "Not at present," said William, knowing being offended would waste time. "What are you doing here?"


    "I don''t know anything about it," said Tavish.


    Anborn looked to Tavish, opened his mouth, and smiled as if playing some game. "Oh right, um, I''m sort of taking a walk. Before I get back to a position of really big authority."


    "My congratulations," said William. "What position did Edmund Telus give you?"


    "Oh, it''s sort of acting as the head of a trading post," said Anborn.


    "And what are you doing here?" asked William.


    "Well, it seems to run pretty well without me," said Anborn. "So I thought I might see how some of my old friends are doing. Some of them are mad at me."


    "What is it?" asked William, walking past.


    "Well, I sort of accidentally led them into an ambush by bandits," said Anborn.


    "And?" asked William.


    "I sort of let myself get captured," said Anborn. "But I seduced the bandit leader and convinced her to let them go. Although I guess they lost most of their money."


    "So you were useless to them," said William. "Anborn, why don''t you return to the trading post and do your job?"


    "Well, I figure I could go on adventures with you," said Anborn.


    "Anborn," said William, wondering why he was the adult here. "I''m going to cure plagued people. What skills exactly can you offer my quest?"


    "Well," said Anborn. "I can play the harp really well and sing."


    "Anborn, I have all of that too," said William.


    "Yeah, but I specialize in those things," said Anborn brightly.


    "Maybe so,," said William. "But my goal is a swift journey to Gel Carn without unnecessary detours. I don''t think you''d enjoy that kind of adventure.


    "Go back to the trade post."


    "But it''s boring," said Anborn. "I don''t know a thing about the numbers, and no one consults me on anything anyway. And no one there wants to hear music."


    "Anborn," said William. "You have a job to do.


    "Someone is counting on you to be at that Trade Post and contribute. If you can''t contribute, then stand still and watch. Observe what is done, ask questions, and learn how. It''ll be boring, but you''ll be glad you did it.


    "Knowing how these trade posts work could be the key to saving the world someday. You never know. You need to start taking responsibility, or you''ll never succeed your Father."


    "But I don''t think I''m cut out for rule," said Anborn.


    "It doesn''t matter," said William. "Your Father is counting on you to do all you can to be worthy of the position. Maybe he won''t find you worthy, and you''ll get lucky. But Tanith and Sunthred can only do some of this.


    "Tanith has been in a bad way since returning from the wars. They need your help. And the best way to help them is to learn, pay keen attention, and do what you can to help House Telus. You''ll have to start with small, minor responsibilities and minor good deeds.


    "But it''ll get easier over time.


    "Eventually, you''ll be able to do the thing you never want to do without blinking. I remember you always liked telling stories when I was younger. If you get started now, you might be the hero of one of those stories someday.


    "But you''ve got a late start.


    "So you''ve got to speed up."


    Anborn nodded. "Right, I won''t let you down."


    And he hurried off.


    "I have never seen anyone get through to him before," said Tavish.


    "Anborn is what I could have been," said William. "So I know where he is coming from.


    "He''s in for a nasty shock, though. Laziness pays off right now, but you stop being lazy sooner or later. And then you''ve got a bitter price to pay."


    "I wouldn''t know," said Tavish.


    On they went.


    "What is your connection to Imogen?" asked William suddenly.


    "She does whatever she wants," said Tavish.


    "And how are all these foreign gods moving about Antion freely?" asked William.


    "The God Triumvirate is done in these parts," said Tavish. "Or almost done. Nobody worships Elranor. Not for real; it''s all beautiful goddesses from afar, something like that.


    "Around forty years ago, the nobility, the church, and the merchants. They decided foreign gods were more profitable than Elranor, Laevian, and Barden. So they all cooperated to shut him out."


    "What is Imogen''s plan in all this?" asked William.


    "It''s a very... vague sort of thing," said Tavish. "She has this idea of creating a Thief King."


    "So a King, then," said William.


    Tavish laughed. "Nice retort, but no.


    "The whole idea of a Thief King is somebody who robs others in his Kingdom and is still a good king. The basic idea is that they control a place so corrupt that embracing organized crime is the best way to make it work.


    "But they''d have to be a good King too."


    "Such a thing is impossible," said William. "Stealing is wrong. Acceptable in extreme circumstances, but never consistently. And most situations where it is acceptable could be classified as plunder.


    "A thief can be a good person. But he cannot remain a good person indefinitely. Sooner or later, he''ll either die or be corrupted."


    "Doesn''t that apply to you, too?" asked Tavish.


    "I never claimed it did not," said William.


    At last, they came to a door in a large, two-story house that had yet to be painted or maintained. It was guarded by armed men. "We''re here. All the sick are being kept from the villages around here."


    "Hold on," said a guard. "This area is quarantined."


    "I am a Paladin of Elranor, and I am here to heal them," said William.


    Tavish blinked. "...I don''t believe it; you''re actually going in there. I didn''t; you''d be stupid enough to try. You know that place has a powerful plague demon in it, right?


    "They come into existence when things get bad enough. They form in places where the sick concentrate."


    "I have no choice," said William. "I am a Paladin of Elranor; my purpose is to heal people."


    "Nice knowing you," said Tavish. "Open the door."


    So Tavish stood back as William entered the room. Within, he was assailed by a haze of filth and the stink of rotting flesh. People lay about, nearly dead or worse, their eyes glazed and piled over one another. The sheer presence of it staggered it, and William nearly stepped back.


    Yet he raised his harp and played against it, and the music resounded throughout the room. As it did, however, it came back to him distorted and horrifying, and his skin crawled. The pain came over his body as sweat dripped under his armor. Yet he played on, and the people stirred, even as he put forth his power.


    Revealing, uncovering injuries, healing...


    And then, a figure horrifying to the eyes appeared swaying in a wind of rotting fumes. It rose from the corpses, unveiled as pale flesh and dark eyes. It chanted a speech of horror, selfish actions, betrayal, and unbroken chains. Flesh in filth was rotted as others turned away. Healers demanded coins and forced others to crime. Garments that had plague on them were given away as nobles counted gold from bribes.


    And the pain of William''s wounds flared up as he was forced back beneath the onslaught of darkness. He saw visions of trust betrayed, of women and children forced into dark coves. Meanwhile, those he deemed noble looked on. He, too, would succumb to plague in time.


    And as the thought was made plain, great black wings surrounded the demon, and darkness crept in. The sky itself faded around them as the wind died and the earth rotted. A clawed hand reached forward for his throat as the energies of evil surrounded it. But Tavish cut the hand with his dagger, and it was drawn back. The creature reeled away, only to arise now in new hatred.


    But William stayed with his music. He summoned memories of escape and trust between friends. Of battles fought and won against impossible odds. Of sails raised above the sea as brave men marched to defend their country.


    Yet, in turn, the vision came...


    Tanith Telus hacking through innocent women and children. And Argath Marn looked on in pride. Of Raynald De Chevlon speaking of looting and pillaging his allies in Khasmir. Of ''good'' men thrown out onto the streets and stripped of their lands. While others helped to enslave them.


    And he, who profited by this, now presumed to cast out his benefactor?


    But William scoffed at this.


    The demon had not been called up by his will or those around him. Efforts were underway to correct the error that had been made. And though the plague had been turned to good, that good could have been achieved another way. It was only made necessary by the failures of men. And those who were suffering from the plague were not guilty. It had been done to them by others.


    Innocent people were dying.


    And the plague was targeting them instead of the wicked. By what means could that be called justice if that was truly it?


    Back and forth, the power of healing and darkness went, and William seemed to hold the mastery for a moment. Yet the plague, in turn, drew from the minds of its victims new power.


    It was a plague.


    A creature that cared not for good and evil.


    It targeted the innocent and guilty alike where it could. Beyond the darkness of wickedness and good, it was outside good and evil.


    William laughed.


    "You contradict yourself," said William. "You who would use human evil as justification now declare it to have no hold on you! You are not a god, nor a child!


    "Why should you be afforded such protection?"


    Rage boiled within the disease, and it rose to new heists. The walls around them crumbled as the roof burned away. Starlight glimmered down upon them. As time passed, it blocked, covered by a great cloud, written in living darkness.


    "I know who you are," said the plague. "The heir of Anoa the Bright!"


    And then William''s flesh began to burn as the sick rose around him, chanting a song of misery and horror. Disease crept up his skin and agonized him, but he used his power first on himself to battle it off. Even as he did, more corruption came against him as the energies of darkness descended.


    He stood now alone beneath a clouded sky in a darkened world.


    All around him were enemies, and he was unworthy of living. And yet his song still played, not for hope, love, or friendship. But simply the hope that the world would change for the better. And if it did not, then he would fight nonetheless.


    He waited for a eucatastrophe, but none came. And the plague demon laughed.


    "Where are the prayers for salvation?" asked the plague. "Where is the service of the faithful?


    "Where are those seeking to aid the righteous? Where are the good people trying to do their part?


    "There are none.


    "Only scheming monsters practicing enlightened self-interest."


    "One can be both," said William, and light came from his harp.


    And he felt good works distant from the port and villages he visited. Conducted with ulterior motives and yet genuine in their own way. And even those works that were done purely for selfish reasons had value. They could start greater things; a paradise could be established in a week.


    All it would take would be for all men to do their part.


    "You will not seize my flesh from me, Paladin..." said the plague.


    "And what value does a rotting corpse have to you?" asked William.


    At last, their wills matched in a clash as the ground beneath their feet seemed to blacken. The winds swept in, but the plague demon pressed anyway. The starlight gleamed downward, illuminating the horrifying form. And from the trees, there came birds singing as day dawned again.


    Then, suddenly, with a fry of frustration, the demon reeled back. And finally, unwilling to depart the world or remain, it screamed in rage. "I YIELD!!"


    William''s harp shattered in his hands, and the strings slashed against his gauntlet. He stared at the harp, falling to his knees to pick up the pieces. A look made him see the plague demon fading into nothing like it had never been. It had gone back to whatever place had spawned it.


    Falling to his knees, he picked it up and looked around.


    The house was destroyed, but the people rose in new health.


    "...The Fortress of Plague is destroyed," said William.


    "To be honest," said Tavish. "I was rooting for the demon that time."


    "My harp is broken," said William bitterly.


    "What about it? You''re rich; get a new one," said Tavish.


    "I traded the Goldenwood Harp to get this thing," said William. "I played music for Massacre with it. I took it with me all this way, and it''s broken. It''ll never be the same."


    "Can''t you just get a new one?" asked Tavish.


    "Could you just get a new knife?" asked William before looking at the people. "Can these people''s friends and loved ones get new people? It''s not the same."


    "It is for them," said a guard. "We''ll take these back to the field-"


    "No, you will do nothing!" said William. "I did not battle a plague demon with a harp to save these people just so you could work them to death!


    "They''re all free!"


    "This is theft of Lady Atravain''s property," said a man.


    "It''s reincarnation," said William.


    "She still owns them," said the guard.


    "Then make the Healer''s Guild pay the difference," said William. "They haven''t been doing their one job. It''s only fair they compensate Lady Atravain for the loss.


    "I''ve just expended a lot of divine power here.


    "Putting these people in chains could be considered a grievous insult to any number of gods. And they aren''t all as forgiving as Elranor."


    "He''s got the point," said Tavish. "The slave trade is out anyway at this point. The entire market chain is broken. Why don''t you two get these guys a job and see if you can get them back to their families?


    "I''ve got the connections; talk to me later."


    "Fine," said the guard. "But you''ll have to answer to Lady Atravain."


    William nodded. "You men are good soldiers. You do your work well.


    "What about the Paladins? Haven''t they done something about this? Why has the plague festered to his level?"


    "They didn''t ask," said Tavish. "That''s the answer to pretty much everything these days."


    "Why don''t you ask, then?" asked William.


    "What?" said Tavish.


    "Talk to some of the Paladins and ask them to fan out and start healing people," said William. "You can tell them what I told you."


    "Why don''t you do it?" asked Tavish. "You''re the idealistic noble crusader."


    "I don''t think I can. For a start, I cannot possibly heal everyone in this place personally," said William. "I''m a rival, you see. If I go to them and ask them to start healing people, they might take it as a challenge or slight. At best, I could make them try for it if only to not be outdone.


    "But, at the same time, they''d give it up as soon as I left.


    "You, on the other hand, are a slaver. It''ll shame them if you request they start healing people, even for pragmatic reasons. They will realize that a mass pandemic is going on, and all they can think about is punishing the wicked."


    "What''s in it for me?" asked Tavish.


    "Has it occurred to you that these Paladins may run into one of your villages by doing this?" said William. "They may speak to the people there and learn about what Atravain''s has been doing.


    "It might be enough to make them realize the system''s problems.


    "And it will also bring you recognition as benefactors of the common man."


    "Or it might get us all killed," noted Tavish, looking to the witnesses.


    "No one is working with the Thieves Guild because they want to be among the nobility," said William. "You are involved because they must make use of you.


    "But you''ll also be the first person they sacrifice if they need a scapegoat. Now, what happens if it turns out you are a benefactor of the poor and exiled?"


    "It makes it much more inconvenient for my head to stop rolling," noted Tavish. "Which might buy me some time.


    "Alright, fine. I''ll talk to them about this, but this had better be worth it."


    "I can''t guarantee it will be," said William. "For you, at least.


    "Tavish, you have been of great help here, and at present, our interests align. However, I feel I should warn you:


    "We are not friends. The existence of your organization is an abomination to me. The fact that it has become necessary is an unforgivable oversight at best by the nobility.


    "The moment my alliance with you is no longer convenient, I will dispense with it. Our interests cannot coexist indefinitely.


    "One of us will eventually destroy the other if things remain as they are."


    Tavish laughed. "You have a practical mind, don''t you?"


    "I wouldn''t be a leader if I didn''t," said William. Then he checked his wallet, just in case. Tavish tossed it to him, and he caught it with the other hand. "Good luck."


    "You as well," said Tavish. "I''ll most likely kill you the next time we meet."


    And they parted amicably.


    William wondered if he should be concerned by that.

 Chapter Sixteen: Judgment

    In a little glade about sunlight coming down in beams between the trees, William met with Felix and Jehair. There were many beautiful flowers there, violet and white. Long vines were extending into the loose earth. Jehair was kneeling by them, her ear pressed against one. But they were not carnivorous, or so William guessed from his memory of Seathorius. The trees in this part of the wood were thicker and stronger than near Ascorn.


    Now and then, however, he saw signs of wild pigs devouring plants and roots and broken underbrush. Some trees were dying because of it.


    "How did it go?" asked Felix, mending a tear in his cloak.


    "You were gone a long time," said Jehair. She''d let her hair down to wash it and was braiding it again.


    "I had to fight it out for two days with a plague demon," said William in exhaustion as he fell to his needs. "Tavish is off on some other scheme. We''ll have to worry about reprisal from him soon. How did you fair?"


    "Lamech and I played chess," said Felix. "He is good, but not as good as he thinks. Eventually, he wandered off to start killing things. Satyrs, I guess, though it might have been a contract killing.


    "That display has people talking. You''ve made your reputation out here. Especially the killing of the pigs."


    "My reputation, yes," said William. "But our task isn''t complete. We go to aid others along our path."


    And they did.


    William did as he did before.


    Now and then, they''d find tracks from wild hogs, and William would follow them and hunt them. These were more exciting but had little glory, and killing the hogs was dangerous. None of them were as significant as those they had fought before. The bodies they gave to nearby villages, who were often hungry.


    William borrowed several spears during this time. He caught a boar head-on with a stout spear at one time, driving it into the heart. It still pushed along the shaft, and he''d nearly been gored to death. Another they caught in a pit and stabbed to death from above.


    "What do your people do if not work the fields?" William asked a white-haired woman reading by the healer''s tent. She had a single lock of blonde hair which was in front of her face. The rest of it was tied into a braid falling down her shoulder. She wore concealing black robes, which failed to hide a very impressive bustline. Or, for that matter, her extensive hips. A hood was let down behind her.


    Her face was stoic and pale, and she shut the book to look up. It was a document on the positioning of stars.


    "Well, there are men who are skilled craftsmen and work trades," said the woman. William had seen her expression on the faces of veterans in bad states. "And also there are the overseers and the guards and the militia. Also, there were some jobs where we couldn''t trust slaves since they could sabotage them.


    "The time used to be that that field out there were several whole farms, and some were there too. But now it''s all overgrown and rotting."


    "Why hasn''t Atravain planted there? Are they lying fallow?" asked William.


    "She bought it up when there wasn''t an excellent crop," said the woman. "There were never enough seeds to plant there. And she never got around to using it or a lot of others.


    "There are vast stretches of land where nobody lives because Atravain has turned them all out. One village refused to leave, but huge numbers of satyrs came after them from Seathorius. Atravain called them rebels and refused to help. Then, the satyrs burned all the fields and wrecked things.


    "There were weeks of fighting, and everything was in ruins.


    "Then Atravain came with her men and hung the ringleaders. After that, nobody resisted her anymore. It''s repopulated a bit these days, but most people have work fighting satyrs." She emphasized the word Atravain as if swapping it in for something else."


    William guessed she was an employee or relative wanting to know his mind. "These satyrs, do you think they were hired?"


    "House Atravain tends to do very well out of their raids," said the woman, emphasizing it again. "She was part of those named in the conspiracy to overthrow King Anoa II, but like everyone else, she was pardoned.


    "Whatever it is, all the raids have stopped in the past year or so."


    "That''s about the time Arraxia took over," said William. "Tell me, have you had problems with bandits?"


    "Too many," she said. "A group of renegade satyrs and slaves often raid afield and try to free the slaves. So they arm them and send them over here. Your pet chimera apparently ate most of them, so that was nice.


    "Also, that Lamech fellow has been hunting them for sport. He likes killing them slowly, so they beg for mercy."


    "Satyrs don''t beg," said William. "Ever."


    "Satyrs don''t beg people who aren''t Lamech," said the woman. "When you first meet him, he seems like an utterly psychotic brute. As you speak more with him, you realize he''s a genius. He is eloquent when he wants to be cunning, intelligent, and with a firm grasp of the law. That and brilliance for setting up systems and using them creatively. He''s a master swordsman, a fine strategist, and what was done to him was monstrous.


    "Then you look deeper and realize he is just a psychotic monster. He understands the law, but it is an expendable tool for his goals. The man has fine long-term goals, but they are just an excuse to hurt people.


    "Lamech is seeped in culture and has many virtues. But none of it has sunk in.


    "I''m sure there is a lesson in there somewhere."


    "Sometimes people are exactly what they appeared to be?" suggested Jehair.


    That sent the woman laughing hysterically and William looked at her in concern. "Are you alright?"


    "Yes, of course. Of course, other satyrs are fighting one another," continued the woman. "Sometimes the satyrs also sell people they capture in raids from other areas and sell them. A lot of plantation owners are desperate for workers. So they will never let the workers they do have work for the militia. Too expensive."


    "You mean to say that these plantation owners are buying their own people as slaves?" asked William.


    "No," said the woman. "Atravain has set hard rules against that. It would have made things easier on the plantation." Her voice was cold but not cruel like she was used to it. She seemed emotionally dead. "She never enslaves Harlenorians.


    "But some of the planters did back when the criminals first came and ensnared everything. They bought up food supplies for obscenely good prices and shipped them off-world. That is why Borinius'' people were so hungry.


    "But Kafka butchered those like pigs, and I''m glad he did."


    William shuddered at the memory of the stories he''d heard of Kafka. "Didn''t he ascend to become the God of Madness?"


    "I''d like to think my Father is dead," said the woman.


    "Why has there been no rebellion against all this?" asked William.


    She shrugged. "No point.


    "All well or good to start a mass rebellion, but this isn''t the old days. All we nobles know each other. If they did a general rising, every other noble would get worried and move to crush them. We might kill a lot of them, but they''d all be slaughtered ourselves.


    "Most villages don''t even use the militia system anymore. The ones that do have enough power to resist but not win. And with all the threats from outside, they don''t have time for it. Hasn''t King Andoa done something about this?" asked William.


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    "King Andoa is over a hundred years old, I think," said the woman. "He hasn''t left the Golden City in a long time. Tavish might know something about it, though."


    "You know Tavish as well?" asked William.


    "I have to deal with him as the administrator for the towns in this region," said the woman. "I often go between farms as a mediator. I trained in Magicora to fight on the front, but I''ll always get out of here.


    "I remember Lamech learned all kinds of techniques and spells from me. He was so charming and seemed like he might be a good person, just waiting for an opportunity. I stopped teaching him when I realized he''d kill me after he learned everything he could. It would be a kind of principle."


    William shuddered. "What is your name?"


    "Janice Atravain," said the woman.


    "Well, if you do, get out of here," said William. "And you can fight; Artarq needs sorcerers. We''ve had a shortage lately with all the wars. Several were killed in the Khasmir Campaign, and others went abroad.


    "Ask for Rusara, and if not her, Raynald."


    "I''ll keep it in mind," she said faintly.


    William looked around. "In any case, you and your people should start thinking about what you will do if someone decides to enslave you. The way things are going, sooner or later, someone is going to try."


    She seemed to calculate suddenly. "Why help us?" Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I am a Harlenorian," said William. "If what you say is true, you must have some plan to deal with a war. Sooner or later, someone will try to force you off your land. When that happens, you must know what to do.


    "The most likely contender is either one of the gangs from the port city or the criminal networks growing."


    "And what would you suggest?" she asked.


    "The villages in the Black Mountains are logical allies," said William. "Right now, they are greatly in need of help. Wild hogs are menacing them. And they have taken to working with a Goddess of Thieves, Imogen.


    "They badly need a return to the fold and religious education. I have already healed many of them; now may be a perfect time to move in and hunt pigs for them to eat.


    "It would also be wise to send a messenger to King Andoa if you have not already."


    Janice looked to the castle, then back to him. "I see. Your advice is greatly appreciated."


    Silence ensued.


    William paused. "What of Neral Dinis?"


    "Neral Dinis may well have something to do with all this," said Janice. "It''s a foul place out there, of stagnant pools and unkept roads. They say the dead walk, ghosts ride the winds, and wraiths come out at night.


    "None go there by any way other than the road. And the forests that separate them from the realm of Brisgald are filled with the wood elves. They''ve always been harsh with outsiders and recruited satyrs to serve them. So, though no raids come from that place, few people come out of it.


    "And there''s been word of plagues of rats in the neighboring villages. There is strange music playing throughout the lands. There is also talk of villages breaking into sudden celebrations, singing, and drinking. Then they wake up the next day and don''t know why."


    "Why is Neral Dinis tolerated?" asked William.


    "He hasn''t attacked anyone," said Janice. "And vampires, by King Andoa''s decree, are not to be destroyed purely for their nature. It may be a bit too understanding. You''ll have to go through there unless you want to go miles and miles out of your way. And that''ll take you near the King''s Road."


    "What''s wrong with the King''s Road?" asked William.


    Janice halted and shrugged. "Nothing wrong with the road. It''s around the road that is the problem. If you want safety, stay on it."


    "Safety is not my goal," said William. "I go into danger that I might lessen it for others? Is this the plantation?"


    "It is," said Janice.


    At that moment, rough-looking men dragged a satyr out of the fields. A large bag bounced with them as the satyr thrashed to get loose. The creature was snarling curses in his own tongue and spitting. They hit him in the stomach and threw him to the ground.


    "What''s going on over there?" asked William.


    "Don''t mind it," said Janice. "This one defied orders and was caught trying to escape.


    "We ran him down and are making an example of him."


    They were pulling out a cross and forcing him down onto it. He screamed in rage and struggled against them as they drew nails and a hammer from the bag. The satyr cursed them long after it was apparent he could not escape.


    And he never begged.


    "Crucifixion?" asked William, feeling a bit horrified.


    "It sets an example," said Janice in a dull tone. "First, you nail the hands to the stake, then you nail his feet. Once you''ve done that, you pull it up. You hang him up there for a few days, and all the slaves see it. Makes it clear what''ll happen if they disobey.


    "They don''t die of blood loss, of course. Instead, the lungs gradually collapse. Some put the weight on their hands, others on their feet. You spend a lot of time watching them waste away.


    "If we need speed, we break the legs. Waste of good property, but he made the realistic option useless."


    "Wouldn''t it..." William halted as they held his limbs in place and set a nail to his hand. "Perhaps you could kill him and simply leave the body out. But, unfortunately, his screams may inspire hatred as much as fear."


    "We know how it operates. Don''t tell us our work," said Janice, tone level. "You don''t live here."


    "I apologize," said William. The hammer fell, and the nail was driven in. "Is this a standard practice?"


    Another nail was driven in.


    "Orders are orders," said Janice. "You can''t afford to make exceptions with slaves. So you have to enforce discipline, or the whole plantation loses."


    This was the way things were, and it was not his land.


    It was not his place to question it.


    At that moment, William saw a group of paladins. He knew them to be paladins at once; there was a kind of light to them. Though he had never been aware of the light, he realized it had always been there. And yet, clad in shining mail, these men walked by the crucifixion.


    One looked at the cross, dismissed it, and then walked back. It was Suran.


    "I cannot stand the presumption of that cur, Tavish," said one, with a neat black beard. He had very well-polished armor. "Trying to distract us from the right path with healers'' work."


    "Unfortunately, people should suffer, Anos," said Suran. "We''ve been ordered to fight the satyrs. Lord Dunmoore wants their raids checked, and we have to do it.


    "Though, of course, those who fight the plague deserve our respect."


    One of the Paladins saw him as they passed and did not think much of him. His gaze fell on William, and there was a look of disdain on his face.


    "Mercenaries," said the man as he walked by. "We don''t need their scum."


    Suran evidently did not notice William. "We need everyone we can get, Anos. Mercenaries can really help us."


    "And they could just as easily change sides for a higher price," said Anos. "Only a fool relies on mercenaries. They are loyal only to money."


    William wanted to go after him, challenge him to a duel, or correct him. But whatever task they were sent on was necessary, and they were going quickly. Avenging his own honor would lead to severe problems.


    Now they were gone, and William looked down and realized what he looked like. He was beaten and covered in mud and blood where they were clean. His armor was kept clean but still needed police, and his cloak was torn and ragged. And this company of knights was walking by him now as though he didn''t exist.


    William looked back at Suran and saw the man smiling as he spoke with Anos and others. It was not a smirk or an unpleasant smile; it was normal. And it was not even at him. It was the ultimate insult; here was a man dressed in shining mail with great skill. And he was using it solely to advance himself.


    It was stolen.


    Stolen honor.


    Stolen joy.


    Stolen happiness.


    Suran passed him by, and William watched him go. They could have healed this place in a day.


    His gaze turned to where the satyrs were roaring in agony on the cross. And the Paladins had walked right by it without objection. As though it were just business as usual.


    Janice looked to where the satyr was screaming in agony as the cross was raised and then to William. The cross descended through him, scorching them from above. Then, for a moment, she halted. "I can''t just walk off."


    "If you stay here," said William. "You''ll stay here forever. Do you want to spend the rest of your life doing this?"


    Janice showed concern and emotion for the first time since he had seen her. She looked up at the cross in something akin to horror. "I couldn''t agree more."


    And taking up a staff of steel, she raised it. A bolt of flame burned the satyr to death in an instant. As it did, the cross was burned to a cinder, and she stood up. And, for the first time since he''d met her, she smiled fully. "Damn the plantations. You men, get together a militia; we''re going hunting."


    "Before you do, take me to the injured and sick here," said William.


    Jehair broke off, and Janice headed off to hunt satyrs with groups of men. And so it continued as they got nearer and nearer to the castle. And yet, the closer they got, the more plagues they encountered. Soon, pyres of burning dead could be seen on the roadside, yet the number of sick people only increased.


    Felix and William went where they could, helping who they could. Jehair came in and out, talking with the spirits as she did. And he saw more and more crucifixions as he did, and there was nothing he could do. Atravain seemed as bad as any demon, and yet...


    Yet people spoke of her as though she ought to be admired.


    Worst of all, William realized Felix and Jehair were used to this. Felix did not see anything bad with it at all. And the further William went, the worse it became as the darkness closed in. His vision darkened so that soon, the people around him seemed misshapen monsters. Every day he walked in seemed like a lifetime, and he was unsure what was happening or after.


    All he could do was keep trudging toward the castle and healing.


    Often, word came in that Janice had started hunting pigs in large numbers. Then, one day, they had the privilege of seeing her at work. Wildfires were created in the woods, rising high with smoke and other creatures. Several of them were pigs, and bursts of flame herded these. From hiding came many villagers with spears who formed a wall. The hogs, half-mad, were driven into the pikes. Finally, one large boar broke through and gored a man to death, treading another underfoot.


    The others jabbed at it in a circle of spears before Janice grasped a shaft and hurled it into the creature''s eye. Then, writhing in pain, the other men stabbed in.


    Three hogs were dead, and Janice was getting started. Her robe was gone and changed for white leather. She now wore a white skirt over armored leggings and looked far nobler. Her upper body was covered in armor, and she held a staff instead of a sword. As she saw him, she nodded with the same dull eyes.


    What had happened to her, wondered William as he left?


    "They''ve burned out half a woodland to kill three menaces," said Jehair. "Some trade."


    "I do not think Janice cares about the woodlands, Jehair," said William.


    "No one does," muttered Felix. "Not even me."


    The lands around him shifted to the darkened plains of some evil country. Dark things around him and those he saw on the road seemed misshapen and too fat or thin. As though they were demons in the flesh of men.


    Yet men rose to meet it. And they were not alone.


    It was a beginning.


    Suddenly, his head throbbed and he staggered forward. Vaguely he was aware of voices and then...


    William''s eyes opened.

 Chapter Seventeen: The Castle of Lady Atravain

    They opened in an unfamiliar place and William stood up immediately.


    His hand went for his sword and found it was not there. Only then did he realize he was sitting in a well-lit bedroom. There was a tapestry on a wall across from him. It depicted a white-haired man taking up a white sword with a blonde woman and several other figures. William recognized many of them. There was Father, Raynald, Mother, and others like them.


    Then battles were fought with many images of bandits and thieves. Over time the others all fell away, but the white-haired man continued to fight. The blonde woman watched with pride as he became more and more brutal. At last, they looked over a peaceful land, and the man ascended into heaven.


    His sword was over on the desk nearby. It looked to have been freshly cleaned as had the sheathe.


    At once, he buckled it back on while looking back. In a seat was a white-haired old man clad in brown robes. He had a thick frame and a long white, neat beard tied toward the end. A gnarled staff member was smoking a pipe in his hand. "Where am I?"


    "You are in the castle of the Lady Atravain," said the old man. "And you were never nearer death than that moment. Your healing power is quite impressive, but it can be overdone."


    William paused. "Who are you?"


    "Gail Arengeth," said Gail. "You are focused on war, aren''t you?"


    "I have to be," said William, unsure what to say.


    "Yes," said Gail. "If it is any consolation, this has been a miserable experience for me.


    "You are very lucky to have survived. The world was starting to darken around you, and you were the only defender.


    "It is a deadly technique, known only to a few. I shall have to look into the source. Even so, the root of the problem was growing darkness."


    William halted. He''d read about darkened worlds. "Do you mean we would have become a darkened world?"


    "Not at once," said Gail. "It''s a gradual process, but it''s a lot harder to stop once you start. The bleak, cynical horror snowballs larger and larger. Eventually, the very concept of good itself is discredited.


    "''If we''re going to have crime-''"


    "''-we might as well have organized crime," finished William. "I''ve heard it."


    "It''s a nice cynical bit of jargon," said Gail. "There is a kind of safety in cynicism. If you truly believe everyone else is terrible, you are freed of responsibility. So long as you can convince yourself everyone else is irredeemable, you can justify anything.


    "And once you start committing many evil deeds, you can''t even step out of that bubble again. Our enemy in this matter has been using this. They have convinced men to embrace the most cynical view of Harlenor so that their lies will become true.


    "Fortunately, that fate has been safely disrupted for now.


    "I would call it Urishia work if any of them were left."


    "Urishia?" asked William.


    "One of the nastiest and most arrogant families I ever dealt with," said Gail. "I abhor the slaughter of whole families. But I do not miss them."


    "What happened to them?" asked William.


    "They threw in with Rammas, one of the most powerful of Baltoth''s sons," said Gail. "And it seemed Rammas would have the mastery. But a Calishan warrior called Isamu defeated Rammas.


    "Baltoth was displeased. After centuries of dealing with their backstabbing, he ordered them all killed. However, he may have missed some.


    "I''m not sure how to feel about that."


    "Even the children?" asked William.


    "There was a justification for it, somehow," said Gail. "Urishia were almost universally arrogant and selfish. It was a family tradition to find some outsider to become best friends with as a child. Then you would murder them as a coming of age ritual.


    "And they only got worse with time. By the time Baltoth wiped them out, they were as bad as any orc."


    "Were the orcs that bad?" asked William. He had numerous accounts of horrific battles, but they were all shrouded in myth.


    "You don''t want to know," said Gail with a shudder.


    "I do," said William.


    There was a pause.


    "They were even worse than the Urishia," said Gail. "They started nearly irredeemable but seemed to be getting better for a bit. However, they were never able to cease their penchant for constant warfare.


    "It was an obsession with blood that led to slow degeneration. The moral fiber of their people got gradually worse and worse. Eventually, they went from a little more violent than humans to utter monsters.


    "By the time Alchara ordered them destroyed, they made satyrs look kindhearted.


    "Unfortunately, after they were destroyed, the balance of power was as well. The old alliance structures fell apart without an ''evil'' opponent to face off against. The result was chaos destroyed the old human Kingdom of Sendar. That stands roughly where Gel Carn is now. Tolnasran, now Antion, fell into brutal civil war, and many fled to Dinis to rebuild there. Meanwhile, Tiriscan, what is now Escor, succumbed to the vampires."


    "What about Haldren?" asked William.


    "Haldren was orcish and satyr territory for the most part," said Gail. "Through the Withering contested it with them. It was only when Anoa chased Neral Dinis here that the first real human colonies began.


    "The Furbearers were a distant people, of course."


    "Alchara manages to restore order and take control. And for a long time, the elven reign was beneficial. But there were good elements and bad elements, and eventually, her systems broke down. She did try to recreate Sendar and several other Kingdoms, but nothing came of that."


    "Why not?" asked William.


    "The humans were no longer the same culture," said Arengeth. "And many of the elven administrators misused their privileges. Others became outright tyrants, partially thanks to interference by the Urishia.


    "Sylvar, for instance.


    "It all culminated in a series of escalating wars, and the rest is history. In truth, however, the system was already collapsing. Even if Anoa had not risen to power, someone else would have. And they might have been far worse."


    William felt a sense of awe that overshadowed the knowledge this man was a political enemy.


    "What was Anoa like?" asked William.


    Gail smiled. "Few people ask me that question.


    "I don''t really know anymore, it''s too far distant. Memories alter with time to color based on the present and what we see in the future. A once-good time can be hell if it comes to a bad end."


    "I believe we''re political enemies," noted William suddenly.


    "Yes, yes we are," said Gail. "Your father and I got on badly from the very beginning, I''m afraid. He never liked the plans I had for him and was willing to do anything to get out of them. I found him to be nightmarishly ambitious, with a tendency to enable the worst in those around him.


    "Although I supposed Vanion would say he was helping them keep their pride.


    "There was an attempt to mend the feud by apprenticing Tanith to Argath Marn. But nothing came of that. For reasons which by this point must seem all too obvious."


    "If this is what Tanith went through, I see why she was itching for a fight," said William.


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    "Antion has been in a slow decay for decades," said Arengeth. "And it is the worst kind of decay. The kind that happens when you are prosperous with many friends. Which means that you have no one to blame but yourself.


    "My goal was to restore it to health gradually. However, I believe Tanith was a follower of the policy of a cleansing flame. The way of Anoa."


    "Tanith is troubled in her spirit," said William. "She is fixated on violence.


    "But she is getting better. The Khasmir campaign did her good, and I believe she''ll be a force for righteousness in a few more years."


    "Well then," said Arengeth. "That at least is good. However, I''ve never heard anyone mention the Khasmir Campaign being good.


    "Now, insofar as grand strategy is concerned, Vanion and I are at cross-purposes. However, in regards to Antion, I foresee no conflicts of interest. Unless one of us goes the way of Tuor, anyway."


    William thought about this. "Where are Dunmoore, Suran, and Farwa? And the others?"


    "Dunmoore and Suran are not dead," said Gail. "You were tapping into the spiritual realm in your exhaustion. And believe that your spiritual attacker was using that as an opportunity. They conjured up your own worst thoughts and the worst thoughts of the Paladin Order.


    "From this, they created a vision of caricatures of the worst aspects of each. I imagine they hoped to sew strife between you. Had it worked, you might have emerged with bitter hatred toward them. It could have wrecked many of Elranor''s plans and clouded your connection to him.


    "Although I confess, I should not confide your plans to him. He is in a very delicate position, and I am concerned he may become compromised. I can say no more, however. Just remember there is a difference between ''evil'' and ''on your side.''


    "Which, I suppose, summarizes the relationship between Kafka Telus and Vanion Gabriel. You can see some of his work on the tapestry over there."


    "Who was Kafka Telus?" asked William. "I''ve heard his name many times. And I know he was the husband of Lady Atravain and a distant relative of Edmund Telus. Father hated him, and Mother spoke of him once as a great warrior.


    "But no one ever goes into details."


    "He was a devoted follower of the Principle of the Cleansing Flame," said Gail. "And a good friend, at one time. He saw many of the things you saw, but the Paladin Order was not on hand to help. They were out battling in the Islands of Power under Dunmoore and Arkan Lantan.


    "His friend, the Lady Atravain, was nearly lynched by a group of thugs twice. After that happened, Kafka and Atravain decided the madness had to stop. And so he began a reign of violence on anyone and everyone who opposed House Atravain.


    "No one was safe.


    "It did quell the criminal element for a time. But Vanion and he were long enemies and disagreed on both end goals and means. Your Father, you see, wished to engineer the criminals'' downfall and advance his rank. However, he desired to avoid needless violence. All to repurpose existing systems to his own ends. Edmund Telus was in favor of it. But Kafka wanted an immediate solution. And to ensure the systems of the class remained strong. Lady Atravain choose his ways over Vanion''s.


    "For a time, they were cordial. But some events happened on their voyage to Themious that turned them into seething hatred. They returned to Themious in different ships, Kafka first, then Vanion with Azgora.


    "It also fractured the family. Edmund Telus and his cousin never spoke together again."


    "Did these strategies work?" asked William.


    "If you want to see the legacy of Kafka''s policies," said Arengeth. "You need to look out the window." William did and saw a far green country of well-ordered farms all owned by Lady Atravain. They were tilled by slaves overseen by men with weapons, and many of the lands were not as well ordered as they could be. "In fairness, it is a good deal better than it was getting. Demon worship had been growing, and there was the ritual sacrifice of children.


    "There was an industry of selling slaves for human sacrifice growing and that was the last straw.


    "I wasn''t fond of Kafka''s methods, but it can''t be denied that most of them deserved it. Since that time, however, House Atravain has been falling apart.


    "Her three daughters cannot be married, you see. She rose to such great power that there are no eligible husbands for them. Janice is already past the usual age. Luke Atravain is their only son, and he has yet to come into his own.


    "The castle now exists in a kind of limbo. Respected and feared, yet without options. Your Uncle, Lord Arthur, did rather better in the end." Arengeth sighed. "There is always a price to pay for wanton violence.


    "I fear for your friend Tanith. She well may have been becoming like her uncle."


    "She is not," said William.


    "Perhaps," said Arengeth. "If nothing else, cutting down that tree brought her so far into the darkness she had to step back. She might have become an utter monster if she''d gone in more gradually.


    "It would take only the wrong company."


    "Better for her that she has friends, better for the world, less so for me," said William.


    Gail smiled and looked ancient now. His white beard seemed to drape him in the perpetual cloud. "Well, that''s the trouble with being responsible.


    "I was afraid her spirit had been ruined. That she might heal is good to know."


    "Why do you care?" asked William, surprised. "She would kill you in a heartbeat, you know."


    "Of course, she would," said Gail. "Many people would.


    "That does not mean I hate them." He sighed. "Antion has come under the sway of dark powers. And we were afraid it would darken completely. But, unfortunately, people have become fixated on the usual suspects. So they''ve missed pressing threats.


    "I have been working my way west from Antion. Though Lord Arthur and Lord Korlac are bastions of order in this place."


    "So, where are you going now?" asked William.


    "To Haldren," said Gail standing up. "There might be a civil war at this rate. And also to Escor as well, to soothe tensions. I must speak with King Gavin at one. The Lord Kern has been a faithful subject, but I fear his judgment has erred."


    "He helped enslave the Furbearers," said William.


    "I am a master of understatement," said Gail. "And knowing Kern, there is a very complicated and sensible reason he needed to do it. Politics is nasty, and Kern usually takes all the nasty jobs.


    "It''s his curse and specialty. He never was the same after that trip to Babarassia."


    "What of the Paladins?" asked William.


    "I have instructed them to take the part of the healers in the absence of others," said Gail. "Tavish Kern raising the alarm helped a great deal, if only for the sake of sheer audacity. Unfortunately, he is not well-liked for obvious reasons.


    "I gather Dunmoore has given Suran a position of some authority. He spent a great deal of time healing others, though not nearly to your extent.


    "You are not pleased?"


    "Suran and I have not had the best of relationships," said William, feeling uncharitable.


    "However, thus far, he has done all his work well, so he is not a bad choice. I''m afraid I blamed him for things which were not really his fault."


    "Well, it has been a very bleak situation," said Gail. He paused. "So, perhaps you could give me an account of what has happened from your perspective."


    William told him everything. Gail listened with interest. He showed particular approval for the healing William had done. However, he seemed to have a special concern for Rius''s behavior, especially Lilas.


    "I see," said Gail. "That is troubling.


    "I always knew that Ascorn had gone to pieces since Rius took power. Now I may finally be able to do something about it. His Father was a good man and well skilled at administration. Sadly, his line has fallen far.


    "Worse still, his line is likely to end with Rius. He has no wife or children, and his closest relative is Lord Tarsus Rius in the Border Hills. But there is no surety one of his children will be picked by the King.


    "A successor will have to be named, and everyone will want their own person running it.


    "Still, I now know why you were spiritually exposed. Your battles with the plague drew you into the spirit realm. Using that much divine power always does.


    "I see now why King Andoa requested your presence."


    "For my part, I''ve dealt with several of the plague demons on the way here. But when you have my level of power, you don''t get credit for it."


    "Because of Melchious?" asked William.


    "Yes, a regrettable connection," said Gail. "Some speculate that you have been drawing power from his domain for your healing. However, if you are truly converting the energy of hell into divine power to help others, by all means, do so.


    "Weakening Melchious is fine by me. The wicked wretch spends his time corrupting everything Anoa once stood for." He sighed. "Would that the Furbearers had not let their guard down. Long ago, Thrakmul was a powerful bastion of the Withering, and they were mighty indeed.


    "Many battles were fought thereafter; it was refounded from Anoa''s destruction of it.


    "But I remember the Incarnation of the Land often visited there. That was back before his disappearance. It was one of the last places he visited, and he promised them he would return to save the world in some form.


    "If you stand across from it on the channel, you can still see the pyres of green flame on the shore at night. These days, the soil is of precious little use for farming, and the wind is all the colder there. And with Escor so unstable, there has been very little opportunity for trade.


    "So the land of Thrakmul to the east of the Furbearers is an empty and, where only the dead walk, and darker things. Though they do not touch Furbearers or their friends, none live there save wild beasts.


    "And now, the Barbarassians."


    "You are a veritable source of lore, are you not?" asked William. He found all this fascinating.


    Gail smiled. "Indeed. I would not be much of a wizard without it." He drew out a pipe and lit it, puffing it. "If I were you, I should seek out King Faras of the Wood Elves.


    "He waits for one of your characters."


    "Thank you," said William, doubting he would.


    The door opened, and Felix entered, clad in a new cloak. He nodded to Arengeth and came to William without changing expression. "William, you''re awake."


    "Felix?" asked William.


    William felt as if his friend ought to have come to his bedside at once. Yet that was absurd.


    "Felix has stood guard by your door," said Gail.


    "We learned to be paranoid," said William.


    "Yes, myself as well," said Gail. "I should be going as soon as possible. The road is long, and King Andoa should be here soon enough."


    "A pity I won''t be," said William, walking to the door.


    "I''ve seen enough forced marches, slavemaster," said a beautiful voice.


    William saw Jehair in the door, clad in a white dress that caught the light. Her hair was newly cleaned and braided. It bared her shoulders and a great deal of her cleavage while clinging to her waist and hips.


    "Jehair?" asked William, deciding to obey courtesy. "You look beautiful."


    "Thank you very much," said Jehair. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "So, then, did you go through with your plan already?" said Gail. "Or is it yet to be set in motion?"


    "Everything was initiated a few months ago," said Jehair.


    "Then things truly were worse than I thought," said Gail. "Lord Dunmoore and Lady Atravain remain here. They desire to speak to you about a matter of great import, though I know not what."


    "Was I invited?" asked William.


    "They stated that were you present, Sir Gabriel, you would be invited to walk with them," said Gail.


    Sir Gabriel again? "What do they want?"


    "It is not the custom to discuss politics," said Gail. "People socialize as a means of establishing friendships between monarchs."


    "I wonder if that isn''t half our problem," said William. "Will you be there?"


    "I don''t usually attend such functions," said Gail. "I prefer to work through agents with no relation to ordinary areas of command, such as yourself.


    "Do give my regards to Lady Atravain."


    William smiled for the first time in what seemed ages. "I will."


    He was finally getting some respect.

 Chapter Eighteen: A Cobra Among Vipers

    Gail Arengeth departed, and there was time to catch up on things.


    "Excuse me," said a voice at the door.


    Clad in a frilly, long dress and white garb, a beautiful elven maid entered. Her hair was very long and tied up in a spiral ponytail. She was holding a tray of tea; with her were other, slightly less beautiful elves with water.


    "Sir William Gabriel and Jehair," said the woman. "I am Alasa. We have awaited your arrival. Lady Atravain bids you refresh yourselves and go to meet them. Garments have been made available for you to choose from."


    "Thank you," said William.


    William drank the water and ate a swift meal. The bread was a bit hard, but he''d had worse. And the water was more apparent than anything he''d tasted in a long time. He''d learned to filter water using the right kinds of stones. Raynald had put together such techniques, but this was on a new level.


    "We have it given by a water spirit as a gift," said Alasa.


    This was something he had discussed at length with Father and Mother. They hadn''t wanted him wearing any clothes from other lords. So they had given both of them sealed packages they''d kept in their packs. Tearing them at last, they drew out fine, crisp white tunics, well white for William. Felix''s was black; he''d paid for the dye himself. With them were clean black pants.


    As they dressed, William moved further from the door. He looked around for anyone listening. No flowers he could see.


    "You have not used that tunic before," said Jehair.


    "It is kept in case I must appear presentable," William admitted with a grin.


    Alasa nodded. "We''ll take you to the hall. You should know that one of Raynald De Chevlon''s brothers is here."


    "Rundas De Chevlon," said William, remembering things. "Alchive De Chevlon, and Octavian De Chevlon. Rundas owns a trade fleet, which operates with Duke Marn''s approval, on the eastern shore. Alchive is involved in money lending. And Octavian is heavily invested in metalsmithing.


    "Which one?"


    "Rundas," said Alasa.


    And so they walked.


    As they did, William caught a glanced between the elves and then at him. He looked to Jehair, whose gaze was calculating momentarily before she looked away. In the next hall, William found many people dressed in finery and gold. They wore silken garments with leggings that clung to them and were drinking wine. Others were eating together, and many gave him a disdainful glance. Many seemed out of shape.


    There were a great many flowers of the same sort used by Jehair in Ascorn. So Jehair was watching everyone. Or someone else with such a connection.


    "What is this?" asked one another. "A gladiator ring?"


    But some among them were obviously experienced at war. Or in other trades, these mostly spoke away from the tables. They looked at William with a keen eye, and one or two had a look of panic. They left at once, and several others noted it and began to discuss it. But those drinking the wine laughed and spoke in jeering whispers. Likely about William.


    Jehair walked in and immediately turned everyone''s heads in her dress. She moved her hips in a way meant to appeal, and the men with wine focused on it. However, those who were speaking were immediately concerned by her presence.


    Something had changed.


    Then William saw Dunmoore in the flesh and remembered every story he''d heard of his exploits. He was presently enduring the flattery of several finely dressed men. Then Jehair approached, and he smiled.


    "Jehair, you are here at last," said Dunmoore. "I''m pleased we have you to help us with this."


    "My only concern is keeping things balanced," said Jehair. "You know the Lord Dunmoore, of course, William."


    "By reputation," said William with a smile. "You led the charge at Desora. And your battles against pirates and Calishan ships have often been retold often."


    Dunmoore laughed and turned away from the dressed man. "Well, they were exaggerated. I remember your Father made a point to never be in the thick of the fighting after Desora. So we had to save him three times."


    Laughter from the boys drinking together and from some of the men. William, however, saw no reason to flare up here.


    "My Father knows well where his talents lie," said William. "I think I''d better greet some old allies."


    "Of course," said Dunmoore.


    William looked around and saw a wide variety of people with much more weight than any noble ought to. As he did, he realized he did not know anyone there. Not once had any of these nobles visited Carn Gable or Ran Telus or sent letters. He knew some of their symbols, but he''d never seen them in war. He saw three in the orange usually worn by House De Chevlon. There were three of them, and they were speaking together. They seemed pleased at something, and William recalled Raynald hated them.


    They saw him and did not approach him.


    Surely, he was a powerful political ally. Still, he would not bow and scrape to them if they did not want to acknowledge him. Looking over, William saw Suran standing to one side silently. Their eyes met, and William realized they had the same problem.


    Both were shut out.


    Eventually, a pretty blonde woman approached Suran, and they began to speak. She had a remarkable resemblance to Janice, with similar but younger features. The move was met with disapproving stares from many of the nobles. At the same time, no one approached William.


    William decided he would just have to approach Raynald''s brothers.


    "I''m quite certain you can enjoy the festivities separately," said Jehair.


    "Thank you," said William, and saw a different blonde woman. "Excuse me, is anyone from House De Chevlon or House Gabriel here?"


    She paused. "Well, Rundas De Chevlon is over there representing his house and the church. But no one from House Gabriel was invited."


    "Then my presence here is accidental," said William. "Gail Arengeth moved me here after I was injured on the roadside." He removed his hand. "Could you introduce me to them? I don''t seem to be making any progress here."


    "Of course," said the woman. "And you are?"


    "I am William Gabriel," said William. "The son of Duke Vanion Gabriel."


    "Oh, from the colony," said the woman. "I''m Jaina Atravain. Follow me."


    "Am I to understand that Artarq is regarded as a minor matter?" said William.


    "Well, trade has been going up and down Savior''s Run for ages," said Jaina, halting and turning to him. "House Marn are the only ones who can traverse the river unmolested. So their transport has always been safe. They had a long and profitable relationship with the line of King Banir. House Gabriel''s military victories are significant. However, they are largely symbolic to men of the mercantile class."


    "And the nobility are of mercantile class?" asked William.


    "Well, it is considered old-fashioned," said Jaina. "I help my Mother with my finances and often help in meetings. You had the uh..."


    "I walked out of Seathorius with only a servant, befriended a chimera, and battled a demon," said William. "I fought in the Khasmir campaigns for months and dispelled numerous demonic infestations. I''ve also recently helped to restore Lord Rius to his rightful place. And I have driven the Babarassians out of Ascorn.


    "Even as we speak, the slaves in Ascorn have all been freed."


    Jaina halted a little nervously. "I see. I''ll introduce you to Duke Marn right away. Don''t tell anyone what you just said. Many people here lost a fortune in the riots in Ascorn."


    "They were not riots," said William. "They were a war." He halted for a moment. "I feel it would be unbefitting to not at least speak to my allies first."


    "I''ll take you to them, then," said Jaina.


    William moved with Jaina to where Raynald''s brothers stood. Jaina approached the most prominent man with a black beard. "Lord Rundas De Chevlon, may I introduce William Gabriel, the son of Duke Vanion Gabriel."


    "What of it?" asked Rundas, looking at William with irritation. "Why is he bothering me?"


    "I saw him grab you," said another nearby noble. He had brown hair and wore fine clothes. But he was well in shape and had also taken a sword. "Are you alright?"


    "He was simply trying to get my attention, Peter," said Jaina. "He doesn''t understand local customs. I do not think he planned to be here and has no guide, save Jehair."


    "Oh, sorry," said Peter. "I thought you were making advances."


    "It''s of no consequence," said William.


    "Some guide to pick," said another, with a scar on his face. "Why has he come here?"


    "Because plague is running rampant through Antion," said William. "I worked myself to exhaustion fighting it and was taken in here. I am a Paladin of Elranor, after all." Silence from most of them, looking away as though bored. He doubted any of these men had done nearly so well.


    "Not very befitting a noble, is it," said Rundas. "Going around hitting other people with swords. Breaking up armor and being hailed as a hero for chopping off more heads than others."


    "And what would you consider befitting a noble?" asked William.


    "Becoming learned in refined manners. And, if you can manage it, coming to understand one''s place in society," said Rundas. "That one does not intrude on important matters which you know nothing about and have no place in any way."


    "Test me," said William, keeping his tone level.


    Rundas looked at him. "Who are the three most important gods of Antion?"


    "Elranor, Laevian, and Barden," said William.


    Laughter, low at first, but a general laugh from other nobles around him. Louder than ever, though, Peter and the scarred one did not join in. Jaina winced. They were laughing at him. Rundas gave a snide smile. "The correct answer is all of them."


    "I don''t acknowledge you as a religious authority, Rundas," said William.


    "Well, how unfortunate," said Rundas. "Since I am a Bishop. Has the church fallen since last morning?" More laughter was directed at him.


    William looked around at the wine and saw several women who looked to be of loose morals. There were people drunk around them, and someone was beginning to sing. "...Recent events have made me concerned for it."


    "Then I pray you find greater enlightenment," said Rundas. "But, I am done. I leave you to the student of a cripple who takes companionship with Calishan whores. One hopes his lessons at swordplay were better than manners." Laughter, louder. "Raynald De Chevlon is ten times the noble you''ll ever be!" shouted William. And he grabbed a glass of wine from a nearby servant and splashed it over Rundas'' face. There was a gasp from the aristocrats around them.


    It might have been a mistake, but William was too angry to care. Rundas'' fine silken clothes were soaked in wine and utterly ruined. He spluttered in humiliation. But William did not give a damn. He''d been on the road this entire time, only to be publicly humiliated like this. No one had approached him, and now his mentor was being scorned.


    "William is right!" said Peter suddenly.


    "Peter, be quiet," said his scarred friend as murmurs of dismay and outrage came forth.


    "No, I will not be quiet, Rutger; this is outrageous!" said Peter. "What has the church been doing for the people or us all this time? We pay taxes to ensure the prosperous land is healed, and they delegate it all to the Healer''s Guild. Is it humiliating war heroes that we pay these ''priests?'' sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Raynald''s crimes were horrible. Mother lost one of her brothers to him. But at least he earned his keep on the battlefield, and none of you would regret having him beside you. Savage he might be, but he''s exactly the person you need in a war. My brother Rutger and I fought in the Khasmir Campaigns protecting the supply lines to Duke Vanion''s. That was a nasty business, and we were on the outskirts. And I didn''t see any priests from any church out there in the fighting.


    "I remember they made a big deal about how it was a fool''s errand and how Vanion was wasting resources. ''Let the satyrs handle their own war.'' Only Vanion won handily."


    "The bandits are all over the roads, and the Paladins have to fill in for these men," said a dwarf who had remained silent. "They are a military order and are not supposed to be sent off to deal with plagues. And if the plagues have spread, it''s because your friends didn''t keep the Healer''s Guild in line."


    "You know, I hear you and the other Bishops are favorite customers of every brothel in Antion," said a freckled woman near Peter. "There isn''t a single decent family that would want a priest alone with its daughters because of you. I have a sister who was nearly defiled when she went to confession."


    The merchants and nobles, by now, were shying away from Peter like he had the plague, fleeing for an exit. Jehair has also shied away from as well, while Felix observed. One of the other nobles, dressed in costly clothes, caught his breath; he was about forty.


    "Peter, you are drunk!" he said. "This man is no true noble; he''s a brute! Insulting the honorable Bishop simply for showing him his ignorance! It''s an obscene outrage, and I, for one, shall have nothing more to do with him or any of his kind! I demand he be thrown out!"


    Many calls of assent came from other men, and William looked to them. The party who had spoken up with Peter began to shout in return so that soon, a full uproar was going on. More and more of them were shouting at him, and their cries continued and continued. Most of them were young, about Peter or Ruther''s age, and many seemed drunk.


    William looked to Letan Marn, who was dressed in comparatively humble clothing. So was Dunmoore, who was completely disinterested. The two of them paid no heed to the uproar and continued speaking in private. Some looked up in irritation, shrugged, and looked back as it raised.


    William looked to Jaina, who was observing much the same. Then he looked to Peter, who was speaking with Ruther in private. After a moment, Peter turned to William, nodded to him, and they both headed out. The freckled woman and dwarf went with them. On their way, they courteously said goodbye to Letan and went out. Some of the other noblemen, the fitter ones, went after them with their servants.


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    That left only the least impressive people in the room. A thankfully diminished number. They seemed surprised that their demands still needed to be met. By now, they had yelled themselves hoarsely. William looked to Rundas, who snatched a glass.


    William stepped aside as he splashed the wine, and it caught the nobility behind him. "The steel of Antion seems to have been tarnished of late."


    Rundas scowled and marched out in disgust, and that got people into a positive panic.


    Many others also left, walking away while turning up their noses or making snide comments.


    "Borderline heretical," said one.


    "Disgraceful," said another.


    "A total lack of respect for his betters," said a third.


    "You should find a better company, Jaina," said a fourth. "You''ve no reason to associate with a brute like this."


    "I understand your concern," said Jaina. "But I am playing the role of his escort."


    And they walked over to where Suran was speaking with interest and began loudly praising him. As though their approval was some sought-after resource. One that William desired and Suran had gained. It was very perplexing that they could be so blind.


    "You know how to make enemies," said Jaina in amusement.


    "It doesn''t matter," said William. "None of them will ever be important."


    Jaina considered it. "What makes you say that?"


    "Felix, if you would," said William. He had a sense of things, but Felix was sharper.


    "First," said Felix. "They publicly humiliated a potential ally who bore them no ill will. So they are reckless and have no sense of politics. Second, most drink excessively and are out of shape, so they aren''t a physical threat. Third, when the schism happened, both sides made their move.


    "One side decided to leave the party and take action. The other decided to try to prop up a rival to William as if he were their enemy. But Suran takes orders from Dunmoore, and there is no certainty he or William will ever be at cross-purposes. So, the truth is, praising Suran does not help them. If anything, it could alienate Dunmoore. He might not like them behaving in such a way toward his subordinates.


    "One side in the schism has chosen to act. The other has decided to keep drinking."


    "Not everyone was involved in that schism, though," said Jaina.


    "Anyone who was anyone in this party has already been discussing their plans for some time," said Felix. "They took notice of us and immediately factored our presence into them. Some left, some stayed, others kept a low profile. And some decided to humiliate my master.


    "True nobility do not have time to pillory their own; they have work to do. Important responsibilities that do not involve drinking. Dunmoore and Letan have not touched a glass."


    Jaina laughed at that. It was a nice sort of laugh."I see your point. So why don''t you tell me a little bit about Ascorn? That was why Mother wanted you here."


    William did tell her, and Jaina asked many questions on the subject. She was particularly interested in which specific merchants did what. William felt his own ignorance on the subject. Yet he had a feeling that much was guessed in their conversation, which even he did not know. His description of Rius did not surprise her, and she listened with great concern to Aras.


    "Do you think he has designs on Ascorn?" asked Jaina.


    "I doubt it," said William. "Aras is an honorable man. And Haldren has more than enough problems with this Furbearer business. The real problem is that no one seems to be running the place."


    Jaina nodded and smiled. "I see. I''d better introduce you to Lord Dunmoore before the sword fight, though."


    "Thank you," said William.


    Suran was getting much attention now, though the girl had excused herself from the nobility. She was looking at him with interest. There was a clear resemblance between her and Jaina and Janice, and he guessed they were sisters. Jaina''s hair was a bit darker but went behind her head. The other had hair falling over her face and shoulder and had more innocent eyes.


    Suran became very popular by being William''s adversary. Their gaze met, and Suran shrugged and smiled in a longsuffering way.


    "It might be better to avoid speaking highly of Raynald De Chevlon," said Jaina. "Many powerful people hate him."


    "He is my mentor," said William as they approached. "And a friend to my Father and Mother. I will defend his honor if he is insulted. Otherwise, I shall avoid the subject."


    "Well spoken," said Dunmoore. "Thank you, William. While poorly practiced, you at least earned my protege some respect. This is Duke Letan Marn."


    The nobles by Suran seemed doubtful, and William did not know why.


    Marn was a man of great dignity and moved forward to offer his hand. William took it respectfully and stepped back. Another boy came forward then, around William''s age but small. Letan looked at him. "What do you learn from all this, Saul?"


    "We are wealthy," said Saul. "And we have no security at all. The flow of power favors outsiders to our organization. Rundas ought to have won that skirmish."


    "And why didn''t he?" asked Letan.


    "No one believed in him," said Saul. "Aside from forming a lynch mob, there was nothing they could do. William had a sword, legitimate achievements, and did not care about their opinion. They insisted on making him an enemy from the start so he had nothing to lose.


    "Only a fool corners a rattlesnake."


    "Do I understand that I am on display?" asked William.


    "Indeed," said Letan with a nod. "Can you illustrate the failing in my son''s logic?


    William considered it. "What you say makes sense. But I was not thinking about any of that. I was angry and humiliated, and Rundas insulted my mentor and gods. So I responded in kind."


    "And if he had thought of all that," said Jaina to one side. "Rundas would have already walked out of the room with victory. Timing is everything."


    "Even so," said Saul. "It was a foolish move. Rundas could have gained much by bridging the divide. And he would have lost nothing."


    "So what was his motive?" asked Letan.


    "Barring outside factors I don''t know about?" asked Saul. "Wounded pride."


    "The same could be said of the entire Calishan-Harlenorian feud, however," said Letan. "And every conflict in history, for that matter. Most men could live ''good'' lives if they did not stand for anything. Yet, our willingness to fight over things that do not matter is essential. Nothing is more disruptive to a functioning society than the existence of a hero. Yet without a hero, society will surely perish." He halted and looked at Lord Dunmoore. "Which reminds me, I''ve seen your knights in action every step of this journey."


    "I know," said Dunmoore. "Suran spoke for it, and Tavish Kern expressed concerns. That finally got me enough political will to disperse the troops to handle the disease. I''d had concerns about it before, but Rius'' need was pressing. Though the men are less than happy. Who can blame them?"


    Saul was observing everything in the crowd. Letan and Dunmoore began speaking with several others who approached them.And into things walked the Baron Hawkthorne. He was a man of immense girth and weight, wearing a silver chain and a red doublet.


    No one had any time for him at all, and they usually only had one or two words for him before they dismissed him. William had met him briefly and found him both terrifying and yet humorous. Now, he was walking here and there, talking to each person and making an impression. It was an odd thing that happened.


    Baron Hawkthorne would introduce himself to a group of well-dressed nobles; they would sneer at him and walk away. Hawkthorne would laugh, move on to the next and repeat the process. It happened repeatedly until he eventually came to the crowd around Suran. Quite a few women as well.


    They pretended to take no notice of Hawkthorne, but Suran pushed right past them to talk to him. Outraged, all of those who had been praising Suran immediately abandoned him. Hawkthorne was apparently a pariah. Except Hawkthorne and Suran soon began to get on quite well.


    "Hawkthorne is good," said Saul. "You see, Suran isn''t in the in-crowd. They only viewed Suran as a chance to shame you and were not providing any real opportunities. Suran has seen outside this castle and knows how delicate the nobilities position is. And he knows that those around him would serve poorly as masters.


    "Hawkthorne saw him as an asset and was eyeing him this whole time."


    "So where the others view Hawkthorne as beneath notice, Suran sees an opportunity," said Saul.


    "Tell me about Reg Hawkthorne," said William. There didn''t seem to be a better time to ask than now.


    "He has undertaken a variety of failed business ventures," said Saul. "This gamble seems like it will be his last."


    "I''m hoping to save his life," said William. "Wherever he is."


    "Why?" asked Jaina. "The man is a perfect beast."


    "Yes, but he''s being used as a scapegoat," said William. "It isn''t right."


    "He could be of value," conceded Saul. "And, if he is killed, it sets a dangerous precedent."


    The party continued, and now Suran was speaking with Hawkthorne at length, and both enjoyed the conversation. Soon, people were going to talk with Hawkthorne. Each one was given a piece of advice and sent on their way. William had no idea about the details, but it was clear he''d gained a lot of power. Hawkthorne looked up and smiled. William clapped for him, and several drunken people also began to clap.


    Several more foolish people assumed some King or others had shown up and clapped. Jaina and the other blonde clapped as well, just out of amusement. Baron Hawkthorne bowed gracefully, and everyone went back to their business.


    William paused and saw to one side Alasa eating with other elven maidens.


    But nothing could be done here, and it was even possible this castle was a trap.


    "Suran, I see you''ve found better companions already," said Duke Marn.


    Suran came forward, and at his side was the beautiful, blonde-haired girl from before. She wore a blue dress that fitted around her nicely, and her skin had a perfect complexion. Tanith had a passing resemblance but with gentler and more curious eyes. She was almost a twin for Jaina and Janice, were it not for age and hairstyle.


    That was right; Atravain and Telus were kin.


    "We had a few disagreements," said Suran, offering a hand.


    William took the hand. "By all means. I never held you in any ill will. Any conflict between us was purely a matter of nerves."


    "It is a habit you would do well to break," said Dunmoore. "Erratic movement can be a powerful move in battle. But sooner or later, you trap yourself."


    "Well, I shall soon enough enter into my own family''s lands," said William. "Once I get there, I shall join my Uncle. But I forget the Lady of the group. I do not know your name, but I met another with similar features to yourself on the road. Are you the sister of Janice and Jaina?"


    "Yes," she said, curtsying with a lack of confidence. "I am Grace. She went out to manage the plantations years ago. I uh... well, I never had the stomach for it."


    Of course. The plantations were hell; she was a good person, so she waited here. Yet she had no responsibilities, so she was trapped. "I think you should tour the place when things are safer," said William. "The land could be a paradise with a bit of organization. Your sister seemed somewhat swamped."


    "Yes, she''s been under strain a lot," said Jaina. "We all trained in Magicora together."


    What did that mean?


    It did not matter. William was forgetting Kata and the others.


    "Forgive me, Lord Dunmoore, but I took this to be a council of war," said William, realizing he must change the subject.


    Dunmoore paused. "I have been saying that for years. No one has ever listened."


    "Lord Dunmoore, there is someone I need to introduce you to," said Baron Hawkthorne. "May I present the Admiral of Atlan himself, Arkan Lantan?"


    Everyone went silent and looked up.


    Out of seemingly nowhere strode Arkan Lantan, clad all in black. His hair was dark and cut short, and his face was authoritative. There was an aura about him, and everyone paid full attention to him when he was there.


    The worried William. And he doubted the appearance at this point was a coincidence.


    "Ah yes, a name well known to all appropriate circles," said Suran too quickly. Dunmoore gave him a chiding look.


    Jehair and William looked at one another. Suran tried to prove him ignorant so he''d do the same.


    "He is not well-known to me," said William, moving past Suran with Jaina following. "I believe Atlan is in the Islands of Power, a defensible location. The small population makes it easy to maintain order. And out-of-the-way positioning means it is isolated from easy invasion. Chosen as a place to keep dangerous sorcerers contained. The Sorcerer''s Guild has been fond of using it as a base. You have a great many responsibilities, then."


    "You mean I am a small and unimportant monarch unworthy of the attention," said Lantan with a smile.


    "It was not my intention to give offense, Admiral," said William. "I am simply trying to figure out your connection to Lord Dunmoore and Duke Marn." And he had already guessed it, and Arkan knew he''d guessed it. So Dunmoore and Marn had to work with him to keep things running.


    "Nothing of consequence," said the Admiral before walking off while laughing. "I''ll see you at the meeting, Dunmoore."


    Jaina and Grace were now on either side of him. Mere inches away, William had to admit he liked the proximity. Numerous other people around his age looked on in anger and envy.


    "Sir, if you don''t need me, I''ll observe from elsewhere," said Felix.


    "Of course," said William. "You were named for a theme, I see."


    Some sort of repentance? Dedication to righteousness or redemption? Penance for Kafka?


    "Father was forced to do many ruthless things to break the hold of the criminals," said Grace. "And he did so with many foreign powers working against him. It was almost a civil war."


    "We were named as a kind of penance for the blood spilled," said Jaina.


    "I see," said William, looking to Marn and Dream, speaking to one side. It really didn''t matter. "You could not ask for a better opportunity to find good work if you have not already."


    "What do you mean?" asked Grace.


    "Well, there are many important people here," said William. "You seem talented and intelligent and dutiful. Seek responsibilities, and you will find some; it was how I started. Sometimes, you have to do something reckless to get started."


    Grace nodded demurely.


    "I''ve heard you spend a lot of time healing people," said Grace. "That''s very kind of you."


    "More than I wish I had to," said William, noting Suran nearby, who also wore a sword. His presence was robbing Suran of his chance at glory. "The work is inglorious and unpleasant but has to be done."


    Suran shrugged. "Believe me; I''ve received far better treatment in this place than back home. People judge you by your acts here."


    "And where are you from?" asked William.


    "Kadan," said Suran. "Antion sometimes recruits mercenaries from other worlds. It''s a growing custom. I''m from Jashin, under occupation by an empire called Bretus. It''s an Empire that rules a large part of it. They aren''t exactly tolerant."


    William stared. "With respect, Suran, foreigners in Harlenor are distrusted as well."


    "You don''t want to know," said Suran with a laugh.


    "I suppose not," said William.


    "This matter is irrelevant right now, Suran," said Marn quickly. "We have spent too long on matters of common courtesy. Bretus is a subject that requires extensive context, and we''ve no time for it now."


    "Indeed, Duke Marn," said Dunmoore. "These formalities are useful in less trying times but should be handled quickly. Suran, take my place at the party; you''ve earned it."


    "Thank you," said Suran.


    Dunmoore, placing a hand on Suran''s shoulder. "Enjoy the festivities."


    And both went off. William, for his part, looked to Grace and Jaina. He told many of the stories of his and Felix''s adventures. Jaina often asked questions about food supplies. Grace seemed more interested in people and hung on his words more.


    Grace seemed fascinated by his account of Arraxia.


    However, William focused on Suran, who spoke with Baron Hawkthorne. William found Hawkthorne''s sheer weight odd. Gods above, they were a warrior culture; how did a Harlenorian get so fat?


    "...Arkan looks worried," asked Grace.


    "What is your connection to him?" asked William.


    "He is a family friend," said Grace. "Father and he used to work together. They fought together with Dunmoore in the conquest of several islands."


    Grace looked to William. "Don''t you think you should try to be friends with Suran? You''re on the same side."


    "Why don''t you talk to everyone in this room and ask that question about their enemies," said William. This was going to be good.


    Grace halted. "Okay, sure."


    Jaina looked at William in surprise. "You realize she''d embarrass us, don''t you?"


    "For all you know, it might help," said William. "I embarrassed my house in my first battle. That doesn''t mean I was wrong to try and do it."


    Then he saw Baron Hawkthorne.


    "What is the Baron of anyway?" asked William.


    "Well," said Jaina. "You know, I don''t know. He has an extensive merchant empire. He has married into several domains. Even so, he has no direct lands to speak of. Though his niece, Fayn Benarus, is likely to inherit Gel Carn, she is a good fighter.


    "Very intelligent."


    William walked off toward Baron Hawkthorne and found him where he was, sipping wine. Then he turned to William, smiling as he. His hands were outraised; "Ah, and the King has come into his hall. What joyous company you bring to me.


    "You would be William Gabriel, I take it?"


    "Yes," said William. "And you are the illustrious Baron Hawkthorne. Your family history is quite extensive. Your mastery of social elites beyond compare."


    "Well, one has to be," said Hawkthorne, looking to Alasa. "Such beautiful creatures, elves. How I wish I could start a menagerie."


    William felt sick. Then, he remembered that he didn''t have a problem with humans being enslaved. So, the feeling made no sense. "May I be plain, Baron Hawkthorne?"


    "Of course," said Hawkthorne. "Plain as day."


    "What are you planning, and will Reg get out of it alive?" asked William.


    "Interesting thought," said Hawkthorne. "Make a note of this Suran. The value of brutal honesty as a political tool is not to be underestimated. You force them into shock when you say what everyone is thinking outright.


    "Learn from this, and we shall discuss your benevolent plans later. As for what we are planning, I am, regrettably, entirely on the level. If this business disrupts the trade lanes, we''re all going to lose a fortune." He paused. "Now, what of Reg?"


    "I managed to convince him to turn himself in," said William. "Some spoke of killing him, though Lord Rius would not allow it. I don''t know his fate now, but it might be wise to mend relations. He may hold a grudge if he must arrange for his release."


    Hawkthorne laughed. "Ah, I see. Very nice. I shall now eat, and you shall go elsewhere. Nothing galls nobility like being confronted with their responsibilities."


    A large number of people gasped in anger. William could not help but feel very pleased with the dismissal and quickly walked out of the halls.


    There was no excuse for someone of such an illustrious bloodline to be fat. None. So he saw himself out and followed Dunmoore''s path with Felix until he came to a door. There, someone was waiting, a man a little older than William. He had shoulder-length blonde hair and had a sword at his side. He was also wearing full armor and looked exasperated.


    "I''m sorry, Sir Gabriel, but Mother is in a meeting," said the man, arms crossed.


    "And why aren''t you there?" asked William.


    "She told me to wait out here," said the man. "I can''t stand these events.


    "This is technically my eighteenth birthday. But I''m not going anywhere."


    "Why do you hold them?" asked William.


    "Because we have nothing to do," said the man. "Everything outside of the party is someone else''s responsibility."


    "I believe you," said William. "Go into that room anyway."


    "I don''t think I can just walk into a meeting with so many important people," said Luke. "I''m never going to get out of this hall."


    "Then get out of the castle," said William. "Perhaps I could get you into the door if you could introduce me. If I was allowed in, you could take your place quite naturally. Sit quietly, listen, and make a suggestion."


    "Why would I allow you in?" asked the boy.


    "I have seen much of the criminal networks of Ascorn and around it," said William. "I believe I have the information they might use."


    He nodded. "I''m Luke Atravain, by the way."


    "Very well, Sir Atravain, open the door," said William.


    The door was opened as Luke smiled. "Just Luke." Then he opened the door. "Mother, William Gabriel has seen much of the situation on the ground. I think he could be of help."


    Lady Atravain was a thin-faced woman who had once been very beautiful. Her hair was going silver, and her skin had several scars on it. Her face was strained by grief, and her eyes narrowed. "...You may enter."


    Luke and William both sat down at a large, long table side by side. Luke looked very interested in the maps below.


    "William Gabriel, to what do we owe the pleasure?" asked Atravain.


    "He''s been through all of Tavish Kern''s operations," said Luke. "I know we have Jehair, but maybe we can get a second opinion." So Jehair was heading here anyway, or at least was welcome, and did not tell him.


    She must take him for a child or a fool. William would be sure she knew better henceforth.

 Chapter Nineteen: Luke Atravain Goes Forth

    The meeting hall had Duke Marn, his son, Lord Dunmoore, and many other nobles. Peters group had been invited, and Lilas was also there. Suran was not, of course, but that was to be expected; he had no rank to speak of and was an outsider.


    Luke greeted each one politely, and they seemed to know him. As he did, he halted. Marn was accompanied by a beautiful blonde woman with hair lying low. She had elegant features and with her was Saul. Both were observing silently and did not hurry to introduce themselves.


    Jaina and Grace did not attend and this William found to be odd. They had seemed bright and intelligent in their actions and could surely have been of help. But then, there were more important considerations right now.


    Rundas De Chevlon was glaring at William in hate. The fact that William now sat in the same circles as he demonstrated his failure. William looked right back at him, silently daring him to do something about it. Still, he prayed he had not made a huge mistake by confronting him as he had.


    "Saul," said Luke. "It''s been a while."


    "So it has, Luke," said Saul. "You walk in the new company."


    "Oh, William and I fell in together on the way in," said Luke. "William, this is Saul, Duke Marn. And the Duke''s wife, Jessera."


    "It is a pleasure to meet you," said Jessera.


    "Mother, why was I called here?" asked Luke.


    "Your socializing can wait, Luke. This meeting is of great import and concerns you," said Atravain. "As for why you were left in the hall, I was hoping you would work up the will to come in before I called you. Bringing Sir Gabriel was also a good move. Well done."


    Luke nodded and looked to William, and the gaze was followed by those two. Saul was just observing everything. "...I''ve read your book. I see you have a scar, after all."


    "It hurts sometimes," said William. "But you usually pick up a few scars fighting. Haldrenians regard it as a mark of pride."


    Silence.


    William noted no one, even Lord Dunmoore, had very many scars visible. He wondered if they had their wounds healed more effectively. Some of the men here seemed, for lack of a better word, weak. Their clothes were fine, and they were trying to look important. But they lacked Dunmoore''s grip.


    "I gather Antion has better healing," said William.


    "Scars are considered unseemly," said Dunmoore. "So most Antion nobility don''t have them. It has to do with how we think and heal."


    "Perhaps we should move on to the subject of the meeting at hand," said Atravain.


    "As you wish," said Letan. "Lord Dunmoore, perhaps you should begin things."


    "The bandit problem we''ve been dealing with has grown worse," said Dunmoore. "Many of the escaped slaves have formed into communities. Communities that thrive on criminal organizations. The satyrs seem to be flocking to the Castle of Blackfear. Though it was once called Radiant Guard and was the home of Sir Orson the Shining of old. It lies on the borders with the Border hills.


    "Neral Dinis, the land to the west of those marshes, and they are well hidden with all the marshes and forests. Often they send new raiding parties to take slaves and kidnap our people. We''ve had several skirmishes with them." No emotional reaction from Saul, none. Luke looked concerned.


    "What of Brisgald? Could they not provide support?" asked Luke.


    "Brisgald has been occupied with the war up north," said Marn. "Lord Arthur Gabriel seems to have been left alone by them. And by all accounts, he seems to have all his focus on supporting the Khasmir Campaign. Ships have been going up Savior''s Run all this time without being harassed."


    "Your ships seemed to have been blessed by the gods, Sir Gabriel?" said Rundas. "Or perhaps Arraxia."


    "I became a close friend of the Dreaming Goddess Kiyora. I saved her life at one point," said William, ignoring the bait. "That much was in my book."


    "I wonder," said Rundas. "Lady Atravain, I don''t see any reason an agent of Arraxia should be here."


    No one said anything.


    Dueling was outlawed.


    "Are you an agent of Arraxia?" asked Atravain.


    William laughed at that, despite himself as he remembered his past meetings with the insufferable woman. "No, she has tried to kill me three times, and I have done the same to her," said William. "Thus far, we have simply missed our chance."


    "That much is easily verifiable," said Marn.


    "My son has vouched for him," said Atravain. "As has Jehair.


    "I see no reason to throw him out and insult Duke Vanion. He is a very important individual of a noble line." Rundas looked around as if it were slowly dawning on him how alone he was in the room.


    "I found some of the technology descriptions amazing in that book," said Luke suddenly. "I''ve been trying to figure out how all of it works. Do you suppose Kiyora would tell me about it a bit?"


    "Perhaps I could be of some assistance in that, Luke," said Marn. "My offworld operations often have contact with such things. I could bring you a few devices with the manuals. Perhaps some experts, though there be expenses." Could Letan be representing an off-world power?


    There seemed to be several people from other worlds.


    "No need for that," said William. "Kiyora is quite personal. Pray long enough to her, and she should show up. If that doesn''t work, try Seathorius. Then, you could set up trade relations with the Nakmar and hope to meet her.


    "If not, I''ll mention you wanted to talk to her next time I see her." An element of scorn in Rundas'' eyes. What was scornful about talking to the gods? But William could say nothing.


    "Do you consider faith a weakness, Bishop?" asked Saul.


    "The faith in this land is my property," replied Rundas simply. "This Paladin threatened the Bishop Joffrey of Ascorn. He has broken the established traditions and rules of the church. His actions have destroyed the profitability of many of our holdings."


    "There were hundreds of people wasting away in the street," said William. "They were starving, beset by disease-"


    "I don''t care about that," said Rundas. "And neither do you! This is sabotage! He''s cutting into the business interests of everyone here!


    "He shut down our operations, whipped them all into a frenzy, and lost a small fortune! Not to mention damage the income of many of my agents!


    "He''s attacking the church! This is an active campaign to ruin our business interests! High Priest Cirithil expects regular income! I know for a fact he came down here on the direct request of Raynald De Chevlon!


    "Raynald sent him here to ruin me!"


    "The people of Ascorn were not capable of paying the prices you asked," said William.


    "Stop distracting from the point!" said Rundas. "We have a system where they provide a number of days of work for healing. If they don''t want to use that system, that''s their problem."


    Silence.


    "Are you suggesting that personal fortune take a higher priority than the work of Elranor?" asked the freckled woman from before. "Just who the hell do you think you think you-"


    Atravain raised a hand for silence. The woman nodded. "Forgive me Lady Atravain."


    "You are pardoned," said Atravain. "William, Rundas makes a point worthy of consideration. Your actions do seem to have done great harm to the church. Can you account for this?"


    "The city was in complete disrepair," said William. "People were beset by dozens of diseases and were menaced by gangs. It has always been my custom to heal others and seeing children dying in the streets, I did so where I walked. Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Ascorn is one of the most traveled ports in Harlenor. The diseases which started there have come here. The Healer''s Guild was, to my eyes, taking no action at all. Neither to help the populace nor assist in liberating Lord Rius from being a prisoner in his own city.


    "I have seen something of Tavish Kern''s operations. Nobility is not respected, if not outright hated among them. Jehair affords more respect among them than one of noble lineage."


    "None taken," said Jehair.


    "What are you saying?" asked Luke.


    "It would take only a charismatic warrior with too much ambition," said William. "All they would have to do is convince people that the situation in Ascorn was a deliberate attack on them.


    "The population is sick, tired, and feel ill-treated, and Rius was given no help by the church. Far from it, they seemed to have a niche among the gangs. The Healer''s Guild has taken to arresting people who try to address the problem. And agents of King Gavin have been primary movers in-"


    "You lie!" said Rundas. "I won''t listen to any more of this! Either he leaves this room, or I do!"


    William looked to Atravain. "Your will?"


    Atravain paused. "You may depart if you so desire, Bishop."


    That had been a bad move. Rundas had thrown down an ultimatum that could not be drawn back without losing face. And worse still, he had done so from a position of weakness, while William had become comparatively strong.


    Rundas stood up and walked out in a huff, slamming the door behind him. Atravain closed her eyes and put her face in her hands. "I miss Kafka. This sort of thing never happened while he was with us. Let us put aside popular revolution for another day. You have the favor of the Dreaming Goddess?"


    "Well, if you seek a more worldly explanation. We beat the satyrs in battle and have close relationships with the Nakmar," said William. "Some of them have become quite rich thanks to us, so we have made security arrangements. And we have built a temple in her honor."


    "Ah, yes," said Atravain. "That makes more sense. I confess I have never had any interest in matters of faith. I begin to think I have paid too little attention to the faith''s worldly representatives.


    "Perhaps-"


    "Is that the Black Sword?" asked Luke suddenly, looking down.


    Atravain blinked, and William was surprised but nodded. "Yes, I keep it with me always.


    "It was broken, harming Laughing Wraith, and reforged while I was unconscious. Felix holds its brother, both made by Moira, a great smith of the Nakmar."


    "May I?" asked Luke.


    William shrugged and drew the blade to hand it to Luke. Luke took it and stood up, holding it in a careful grip. His stance was a bit sloppy at first, but he adjusted it quickly. "Hmm, it''s very heavy. Heavier than the sort of blades used by us.


    "Meant by vicious blows."


    "Haldrenian Berserkang is based around raw, brutal power," said William. "Raynald is a master of it, the best swordsman in the world, I think. The only rival I know of would be Tanith."


    "Abdul Sahshir might have something to say to both of them," said Jehair. "He severely wounded two gods."


    "I was always told that Raynald and my Father, Kafka, got on well," said Luke, handing the sword back and sitting down.


    "I''m quite familiar with Edmund Telus," said William. "If you meet him, he may know more. Though, I admit, little has been spoken of his work."


    "Kafka did what had to be done," said Atravain. "It was nasty, unpleasant, but without it, criminals would be running this nation. Similar to how your house viewed Raynald De Chevlon''s two-hour massacre."


    "I''m not familiar with that story," said Saul.


    "Raynald accused sixteen nobles of corruption who were his political enemies," said William. "And he killed every single one of them in duels. You see, he figured out how they were related. And he killed them in an order that made others challenge him to a duel.


    "In two hours, he cut down a third of the influential people in the city of Antion with perfect legality. King Andoa, desiring peace, exiled him from the city. Before he left, Raynald swore he would send a student to avenge him." William paused. "I had completely forgotten that part of the story until now.


    "I''d assumed it would be Tanith."


    "As did we," said Atravain. "Raynald was poorly treated wherever he went. Particularly during the incident with Princess Nyx of the Amazons.


    "And his House consistently refused to avenge him."


    "I see now that he means to use you for this. You might be interested to know that your Father tried to have my husband Kafka assassinated."


    "My Father is no assassin," said William. "He never uses such tactics. On the contrary, he believes them to be utterly useless."


    "Yes, so imagine how much they hated one another that Vanion would use such tactics," said Atravain. "Kafka and Vanion started out disliking one another, and it only became worse from there. They had opposite views of how virtually everything should be done.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Worse still, they kept being put on quests together, and they never once became friends. Finally, something happened in Themious that turned them into hated enemies. Edmund Telus never forgave his brother.


    "I suppose I should thank Vanion, it was how I married Kafka in the first place."


    "I have heard that story before," said William. "Though with a different protagonist. With proper sources, I might be able to compile documentation on it."


    "I may send you some," said Atravain, smiling.


    "We should return to the matter at hand," said Letan, looking very uncomfortable


    And so began lengthy explanations where William had to go over his story several more times. Atravain began to look angrier and angrier as she heard the accounts and had them verified by Dunmoore. Suran had made similar reports.


    "The Furbearers that were sold to you should be released, or at least sold back to their own people," said Dunmoore. "Princess Kata, the Furbearer Leader, was instrumental in driving the Babarassians out.


    "I expect she now has a position of real weight with Lord Rius. Given what has happened, Lord Rius may believe that you had some part to play in his overthrow."


    "Princess Kata is intelligent and good of heart, but she does not know these lands," said William. "She is likely to regard you as villains. And bringing an army to the gates of Ascorn would serve no purpose.


    "Indeed, it might serve to make Rius fear you mean him harm."


    "The boy is right," said Letan. "We should demonstrate your control of the situation and your benevolence. But, more importantly, you may also use this chance to speak to those you tend to. Asking a few relevant questions to each person will provide much information. Once you have that, you shall know the nature of Tavish''s forces.


    "Tavish''s men are largely his out of desperation if all this is true.


    "They have no alternative, so they have turned to one they do not understand. But they do not love him, and I do not think they could be easily rallied. Were you to identify the ringleaders and imprison them, I expect they would not move against you."


    "What makes you certain he''ll raise rebellion?" asked Atravain.


    "He is an evil man who has gained power by unjust means," said Dunmoore. "Simply by being aware of the cancer he has put on society, you have become a threat to him. Any attempt to bring his efforts to heal will force him to seek rebellion to keep his unjust gains. And if he is not evil, then he will do so on behalf of the beleaguered commoners he believes he is fighting for.


    "Even if he is only after his own self-interest, he''ll want to show strength. My Paladins ought to carry out the task."


    "With respect, Lord Dunmoore, your Paladins are easily recognized," said Letan. "And they do not have contacts among these people. I fear, in their zeal, they might create a war.


    "It would be better for my forces to carry out the plan."


    "No," said Luke. "I''ll go."


    "And I''ll go with him," said Peter. "We can handle this."


    "I''ll go as well," said Saul.


    "You have many sources, Jehair. Will they be of use here?" said Dunmoore.


    "At the moment, I am employed as a guide to William," said Jehair. "If he bids me provide guidance to you, I may do so."


    "I have pressing business in Gel Carn," said William. "And other areas will need my healing abilities."


    "Is it wise to assign so important an operation to one untried?" asked Letan.


    "I have not seen battle," said Luke. "But, I am trained in sword and spear, and I have learned tactics from my masters. And my sisters have great knowledge of things."


    "It shall be so," said Atravain.


    Letan''s eyes darkened for a moment, and then shook his head.


    "There is one matter that concerns me," said Letan. "Let us put aside the question of the Furbearers and face economic reality. Shipments of slaves are necessary to till the fields. Therefore, if what you say is true, Princess Kata is likely to shut down the trade."


    "Princess Kata will not be in Ascorn forever," said William. "And at the moment, all trade has shut down anyway. Rius, when last I left, was contemplating a campaign in Haldren to drive out the Babarassians.


    "Certainly, he has a cause of war on them."


    "You don''t really suppose it will come to that, do you?" asked Peter.


    "Why not?" asked Luke. "They went in and wrecked his city. Tavish obviously controls a lot of territories. If I were Rius, I''d want a piece of the action."


    "And you should not," said Atravain.


    "I don''t know anything," said William. "It is my hope that King Gavin has good reason for what is happening."


    "What about Reg Hawkthorne?" asked Luke. "Isn''t he the one behind this?"


    "It would be more accurate to say that Reg is the man in front of this," said Letan. "I do not think he set himself up alone. Someone else put him in place."


    "Lord Rius believes that he was set up to cover some other design," said William. "And Reg himself claims to have been put up by Neral Dinis."


    "Neral Dinis of Castle Blackfear?" asked Luke. "Do you think he is responsible for all of this?"


    "I intend to ask him when I get there," said William.


    Murmurs of shock.


    "You can''t go there!" said Luke. "The place is ruled by vampires, and the dead stalk those lands. The werewolf Larxe and her blood cult reign. You can hear werewolves howling all night and day.


    "Many of the villages which once populated that place have faded away. Elvish ghosts and worse things can be seen everywhere. People are disappearing in whole villages lately."


    "I think I will have a better chance," said William. "My Father''s longstanding friendship with Raynald De Chevlon has connected us to him. If Neral Dinis kills me, he will have a serious problem with his superiors. And I''d be more valuable as a hostage, anyway.


    "And if indeed he is responsible for it, I must ask for an accounting. I''m afraid my house has been too focused on Calisha and Khasmir. Our eyes have not turned back home nearly enough."


    "The truce may have been for the best, in that case," said Dunmoore.


    "There is another matter," said Letan. "Tensions are rising in the sea of power, Atravain. Sorn has been making aggressive moves toward Dinis.


    "And Sen Kaba, the merchant Lord, has a stranglehold on the iron market."


    "We can''t do anything about that right now," said Luke.


    "I agree," said Peter. "It''s too far away. We have to deal with what''s here and now."


    "I may be of some assistance here," said Jehair. "The Druids of Laevian are not far off, and I could arrange for some to be brought down here to aid you. They will be able to deal with any outbreaks of plague and may also be able to help you get the most out of limited resources.


    "Of course, they will have a price. Certain glades to become off-limits. Certain fields that lie fallow would have to remain so."


    "We might as well do both," said Luke.


    "What of the labor shortage?" asked Atravain. "Or do you want the entire nation to starve to death? My domain is not the only one suffering from a lack of workers."


    "Why don''t we just invite people back in?" asked Luke.


    "And give up what we bought with our own finances?" asked Atravain. "Their poor decisions led to the loss. Why should we pay the price?"


    "Doing so would undercut the problem of bandits, Atravain," said Dunmoore. "Many within Tavish''s holdings don''t have much to do. It is becoming overpopulated.


    "This a matter most grave, Atravain. And some of the responsibility is yours.


    "I think that we should demonstrate proper contrition."


    "Contrition?" said Atravain in a fury. "You base your operations in a gilded palace! Squires toil away, washing up marble floors while the streets go to ruin. Perhaps you could work the fields if you are of such limitless humility, Dunmoore."


    "I seem to recall you put some of those people in those streets, Atravain," said Dunmoore.


    "Friends, please," said Lilas, who William had hardly noticed. What was he doing here, and why had he not approached William? Was he trying to stay beneath notice? "This feuding will not help our situation.


    "Lord Dunmoore, the plan you propose might be for the best; however, it would never work. Land rights are not well documented in this part of Harlenor. We could not give the land back to each person that bought it, even if it were the right solution.


    "Nor could we sell it back, for the people we would be selling to do not have the money."


    "Why don''t we let them work for the land?" asked Luke. "We can set a price on a given place of land and offer them the chance to work that plot of land. We set a price on that land, and they work it on our behalf. Once they have made a certain amount for us on it, the land will go back to them.


    "There are a lot of fields we have that we aren''t using for anything because we haven''t been able to expand fast enough. We could increase our rate of profit and solve the problem."


    "How would you assign the value of this land?" asked Saul, and Lilas looked up in surprise.


    "It would be better to set a number of years they must work for us," said Letan. Us? He said ''us''? So he was doing it too. "And once they have the land, they would resume their old status and pay us a tithe. We could even arrange for the tithe to be higher than before and other restrictions. They do not have any other alternative."


    "What of the Furbearers?" asked William.


    "What of them?" asked Letan.


    "Those who have already been enslaved," said William. "Their presence may cause you some very serious problems if they remain here. Especially since, if this system works, they are of no more use. And I don''t think they can be reclaimed without blood in the streets of Ascorn." He hated dismissing Kata like this, but they did not know her.


    "I paid a great deal of money for them," said Atravain.


    "Then perhaps you could get that money back, Luke," said Peter. "The Healer''s Guild has gone beyond the realm of simple thievery. They have endangered the entire nation. They are an enemy who has attacked your domain.


    "And they tried to force us to make an enemy of House Gabriel. There was no need for any of this, and they created a crisis anyway!"


    "Peter," said Rutger, who had dismissed William as a guide. "Rundas is a Bishop.


    "Be silent!"


    "No, I will not be silent, Rutger," said Peter. "The church is a disgrace!


    "My House, House Bailey pays a lot of money in taxes to them, and so do our people. And for it, they bargained off all their responsibilities to the Healers Guild. You''ve seen the people who work in those lodges.


    "They spend their time playing dice, buying and selling. Half their business is in trade, while people waste away outside. And everyone who looks at them knows the church put them up. And they see good people who try to fill in for them get beaten to a bloody pulp.


    "Luke, you remember that foreign Priestess of Jaha? She just wanted to help people, and they sent men with clubs. We had to bend the rules just to keep her from getting beaten to death. They sneer at real priests and make them prisoners in the parish and force us to pay huge sums.


    "We''re paying them a lot of money and publically disgracing ourselves for a job they don''t do!"


    Silence again.


    "Peter is right," said Luke. "I could probably do a better job than them. I know a bit about tending injuries from Alasa."


    "Does anyone have a counterpoint?" asked Atravain.


    No one said anything.


    "It might be wise to seize any finances and records they have," said William. "If the Healer''s Guild does have any connections to crime, we could hunt down their contacts. And the money could be an acceptable refund for the loss of revenue."


    "We could hire some hands in the short term to get the harvest in," said Luke. "Not perfect, but it could work. If we release all the remaining Furbearer slaves we have and maybe buy up some others, we can send them back.


    "Then Kata won''t have any incentive to stay around."


    "Once she has her people, she has no reason to remain," said Letan. "And if she does, she will lose all sympathy. The loss will probably pale in comparison to the price of keeping Ascorn closed, Atravain."


    "No," said Rutger. "The other nobles will never cooperate with this. You can''t get them to give up their slaves. They''ll fight you tooth and nail."


    "Then we''ll be the only ones'' bringing in a crop," said Luke.


    "In that regard," said Lilas. "I have inspected the grain supply in Ascorn. Many there are going hungry. I would like to offer some of my personal stores to stave off revolution, if you will it."


    "I do," said Atravain. "And I shall remember the donation."


    And that more or less settled that.


    Many other discussions were had that dealt with satyrs and other dangerous matters. It was just starting to get boring. At that moment, however, a door opened. Alasa. "Lady Atravain, there is an uh... chimera here to see Sir William."


    "A chimera?" asked Atravain.


    "Ah, Massacre is here at last. Farasa smiles on us, and we may begin at once," said William.


    "Who is this Massacre?" asked Letan.


    "A friend," said William. "Lady Atravain, Lord Dunmoore, Duke Letan, I apologize, but I must leave at once. For all, we know Neral Dinis could be preparing war as we speak, and if so, I must know it.


    "I shall bring you word of my findings as soon as I can. Jehair, let''s go."


    "Elranor be with you," said Dunmoore.


    William hurried out as quick as he could, donning his armor in full with Felix and then going to the gates. He nodded to Alara as he did so, noticing she was packing her bags. "Where are you going?"


    "To take care of some business operations for the Lady Atravain," said Alara. "She often needs help with finances. At present, she wants me to arrange for a meeting with the other plantations."


    "Take some guards," said William. "I mean it. Don''t go anywhere alone and rest in well-populated areas. Stop for nothing and trust no one.


    "It might be nothing. But I think things are about to get violent."


    Alasa halted. "Has it really gotten to that point?"


    "I don''t know," said William. "But if things escalate, it''ll be bad for everyone. If you can, get news to Queen Dawn and tell her something has to be done.


    "If things go badly enough, the elves may be our only hope." Why had he said that? "...What is the nature of your employment?"


    "I''m just a humble servant," said Alasa. "Many of my fellows stay for Master Luke. They are very fond of him. I am simply the manager."


    William nodded. "He''ll need your help.


    "Actually, everyone will at this rate."


    As William was going out the door, Luke came out in armor. "William, let me come with you. I''m a good swordfighter and skilled at arms. You''ll need all the help you can get."


    "As much as I would love that, you''ve got work to do," said William. "Your people will need you to provide leadership and settle problems at home. If things fall apart here, it won''t matter one whit what happens in Blackfear.


    "As for me, I''m well-guarded, and my family is near at hand.


    "You''re the lynchpin to all this."


    "Me, why?" asked Luke.


    "The Paladins are well-intentioned, but they don''t know this place. And their first loyalty is to Antion as a whole," said William. "Your Mother is shrewd and wise but cannot both rule and act.


    "She''ll need your help for this. Both as a warrior and an observer.


    "When you walk abroad, you see things that maps and records can''t show you."


    Luke paused. "Do you think Rius is a traitor?"


    "No," said William. "I think Lord Rius may have interests that are contrary to yours. Nobody is exactly who they appear. Men who appear just and moral might only be so for fear of the noose.


    "I was somebody completely different when I met with Tavish Kern. Just as I was someone different when I met with Tanith or with Rius."


    "And is this the real you?" asked Luke.


    William halted. "I have no idea, Luke.


    "There are only two ways that you can see who a person really is. One is to give them power over another person without fear of repercussions. And the other is to remove all their power and render them helpless.


    "I''ve been rendered helpless before."


    "What did you do?" asked Luke.


    "I prayed for help, and I got it," said William. "You''d be surprised how useful prayer can be. Even if you don''t always get an immediate response, it can help you focus."


    "Right, well, I suppose we both have our adventures to attend to," said Luke, looking away.


    "Yes," said William. "Come see me in Artarq, sometimes. I think you''d like the artwork, and friends are the rarest resource of all."


    "I might take you up on that," said Luke. "May I be honest?


    "I never wanted any of this. I don''t want to manage a plantation of slaves or crucify people. I want to go into battle and win glory against demons and orcs of old. I want glory and honor, but there is none of that here."


    "You''ve got responsibilities, Luke," said William, putting a hand on his shoulders. "Watch over these lands carefully, and you''ll find all the adventure you can stomach.


    "You and I are heroes of two different stories."


    And they parted ways.


    Felix was waiting outside, as was Massacre. Felix was sitting on a rock while Massacre was munching on a rabbit.


    "Bah," said Massacre, coming forward.


    "You certainly took your time," said William.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "What do you mean you were bringing a flock of sheep back to fold?" asked William. "You haven''t been hunting the Nakmar''s flocks, have you?"


    "Bah!'' said Massacre irritably.


    "Well, how was I supposed to know you were speaking metaphorically. You love eating sheep," said William.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Let''s just find Felix," said William.


    "You seem to get on well with this creature," said Jehair, smiling and kneeling down by her. "Tell me, is Massacre your real name."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Seldom have I heard such fair speech from a goat," said Jehair.


    "We''re going into the wilds," said William. "Take us by roads that are hard to follow. The Paladins can handle the rest."


    Lilas grain shipment left quickly.


    As though prepared in advance.


    "Dunmoore is moving in on the church''s territory," said Jehair. "The Paladin Order has just seized a great deal of ground."


    William shrugged. "What of it? I doubt they could run the place any worse."


    They set out on that note.

 Epilogue of Book One:

    Lord Dunmoore was in a very, very, good mood. Even if he would never admit it.


    Of course, it was nice to have someone remember his victories. But, in truth, it was the satisfaction of revenge that Dunmoore enjoyed more.


    The inward howls of impudent fury he''d seen on the faces of his ''friends'' had been addicting. He''d seen how it was, and Letan reeled back. He had been more hurt by William''s blundering good intentions than he had ever been by knives. The degradation these knaves had felt that a Paladin of fifteen could outfight them.


    By the Gods, it was liberating to see Atravain''s daughters coming into their own. To play hostess to these spoiled wretches was a fate such beautiful and intelligent girls did not deserve. But better still, Arkan and Letan and all the other scoundrels of noble blood had gotten beaten so easily. So final glorious battle, no moment of total dominance.


    Complete annihilation.


    The darkness that had been thrown over the eyes of the nobles, willing or no, was shattered. And those spoiled creatures who disgraced their lineage by drinking were waking up. Whether they liked it or not. Even now, the wretches were aware their livelihoods were threatened. They feared a world moving past them, not needing them anymore, though they did not realize it.


    So some scurried in their fear to back a righteous cause. And those who had never departed that cause now went forth to fight.


    However, what bothered Dunmoore was that he got through so easily!


    No mass hanging, no death in battle by vengeful heroes, no heroic peasant revolt. Their machinations were defeated, and they got off scot-free. The truth of their crimes had been shown to them all, and Dunmoore had let them go.


    What now of this meeting? This impromptu session was where murderers and thieves, and nobility were yelling. They were blaming everyone but themselves for the trap they had dug with their own hands.


    It was pathetic. But there were some notable figures here.


    "Well," said Lilas. "Things seem to be going badly for our friends in the church."


    "No, they''re going well," said Dunmoore. "There is nothing that the priests of Elranor hate more than Elranor himself."


    "Dunmoore is right," said Arkan. "I suspect that Cirithil and his cronies made an infernal pact long ago. Whatever the force was, it gave them protection and limitless wealth and luxury. In exchange, they discredit and destroy their faith. Cirithil has better luck than his skill warrants, it can''t be natural.


    "From that perspective, Rundas'' outburst is simply the final step. Demons usually break their tools.


    "The church has been discredited by noble and commoner alike. The Paladin Order cannot hope to fill the void ripped open.


    "House Gabriel might have salvaged it through Rundas. But that route of escape is now altogether ruined. I expect the Bride of Elranor shall be eaten alive by new suitors."


    "Be assured, Arkan, those demons regard us as tools as well," said Dunmoore. "They will seek to break us."


    "What makes you say they''re demonically possessed?" asked Tavish, who knew a thing or two.


    "It''s something about their eyes," said Gavkin, who knew a thing or two about this. "When someone is deep enough in demonic influence, their eyes go dead. But, usually, they can fake being alive well enough when in a social situation.


    "But put them in a position where their master''s plans are threatened, and you can see who they are. They don''t usually have any will left in the matter, being wholly ensnared by the darkness."


    "I wouldn''t know," said Lamech, whose eyes were flaring a particularly bright shade of yellow. He seemed absurdly pleased by this turn of events. It might be necessary to smite that one, for his own sake as well as the world''s. Child though he was, Lamech was a powerful blackguard and had to be removed.


    It was the only move against the demons they could make. That worried Dunmoore.


    "Alright, keep your secrets Lamech," said Tavish. "But I know you had something to do with this."


    "If you''re referring to a string of mysterious murders of ''good'' priests," said Lamech. "I was eleven years old."


    "I wasn''t aware you liked gambling," said Tavish, raising an eyebrow.


    "I prefer to see it as a leap of faith," said Lamech.


    Both of them laughed at this, and many others started laughing as well. Dunmoore remained silent as he contemplated matters. Arkan, on the other hand, had his face go stony and began to contemplate, his eyes turning to malice toward his adopted son. Dunmoore met the gaze and then looked to Lamech.


    Well, that was it.


    Lamech needed to die. The old High Priest Alonsus had been like a Father to Dunmoore and inspired him to become a Paladin. But if Lamech was hoping to get an emotional reaction from him, he''d be disappointed.


    Tavish was the closest thing to someone who was sympathetic in this mess. He was a slaving, traitorous murderer. His main redeeming quality was to family, and even he knew it wasn''t going to last. The last Dunmoore had heard, Tavish was trying to get out, though he had a sword at his side.


    Lamech would stop that, so the relationship had to be cut. There was Lamech, in black armor as always. His sword was on hand because nobody would ever dare try to take it away from him.


    Finally, there was Lord Dunmoore himself. A hypocrite without conscience who had betrayed the spirit of his oath. This loathsome image of the splendor of knights of old was no knight at all. Simply a charlatan with great experience in battle.


    Dunmoore hoped these miserable wretches might destroy one another. That was nothing to arrange; the problem was doing it in a way that did not hurt the innocent.


    Dunmoore had his as well, though the thieves had been disarmed here. He was thinking everything that Dunmoore was thinking right now. Dunmoore had tried to get him honest work, and he''d used him as a tool to make a pact with infernal powers. Lamech, an image of hell, stared back at him and their gaze met in silent challenge.


    "In the meantime," said Dunmoore. "We have one another to settle with."


    There was no laughter there.


    They might have found it funny if Arkan had said it, but Arkan looked to be in a bad mood. He usually got like this when his plans didn''t go as he liked. Even now, he feared his plans slipping beyond his grasp. Worst of all, he was far from Antion and his planned escape route. So if things went badly enough, he might suffer consequences for his action.


    But, as much as Dunmoore would like to watch that happen, he was obligated to salvage the situation. The problem was that the royal family was involved in this. So until such a time as they could cut these parasites loose, the system had to be maintained.


    That meant they needed a common enemy.


    "Prince Aras is becoming more powerful by the day," said Dunmoore. "Reg Hawkthorne is still unaccounted for, and his documentation is being examined. The plague is no longer a disruption, so Atravain has a free hand. And thanks to Lamech''s well-placed contacts, the church is useless to us.


    "Many of our contacts in the Paladin Order have cut contact overnight. And even Jehair seems to have all but taken his side."


    "If I recall, Lord Dunmoore, you were supposed to keep the nobles wining and dining," said Lilas. He was thin-wristed and ever the helpful social climber. "With the church discredited, the Paladin Order has increased in power."


    "The church was already discredited," said Tavish.


    "I was merely noting that the Lord Dunmoore refused to intercede on Rundas'' behalf," said Lilas.


    "Rundas was stupid," said Dunmoore. "He began a confrontation he wasn''t prepared for and lost it when the nobility stuck by their own.


    "He had already lost the battle by the time William entered the castle. Spitting in his face only made William realize who his enemy was."


    "And why didn''t you keep him at the castle?" asked Lilas. "Now he''s gone off into nowhere. Dealing with him will be much more difficult now."


    Lilas all but ran Ascorn and let Rius run it into the ground while remaining guilt-free. Dunmoore guessed Lilas planned to trade up from his holdings to run Ascorn. He''d abandoned the wood reached to the druid''s ages ago. And Jehair was now the general go-between in that location.


    "And how am I supposed to prepare for a chimera walking up and asking for an audience?" asked Dunmoore. "Or for him to convince Atravain to sell us up the river.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Now her family are on the warpath against our holdings."


    "The work that William Gabriel began, Luke is going to finish. And my Paladins have been put in a position where we must assist him.


    "What did you take his message for, Tavish?!"


    "Screw you, got mine," said Tavish with a shrug.


    "Would you like to say that again louder so we can hear it," said Lamech, with a smile. He almost seemed like he liked Tavish. Theirs was an odd friendship that could end with a knife blow at any time.


    "Screw you, got mine," said Tavish. "I''ve got a job to do that has nothing to do with Antion. Lord Kern has an operation he wants done; working with Gabriel let me advance that operation. It smooths over a lot of problems, and now I have an in.


    "I take my orders from him."


    "Lilas, has come out of this looking very well," said Arkan, turning to him. "Perhaps we can arrange him a more favorable position once House Gabriel packs up and leaves. Rius obviously can''t be relied on.


    "Lilas and Sir Gabriel did get on well, after all."


    "I stand ready to serve in whatever way the Thieves Guild desires," said Lilas.


    This was ridiculous.


    Lilas attempt at a powerplay was only going to get him killed. The man did not appreciate the necessity for martial prowess. Perhaps it would be good to give him a fair warning and assert dominance. Still, not without provocation, Lilas had not done anything to Dunmoore yet.


    "So you have said," said Lamech. "Which makes this all your fault either way."


    Oh, so Lamech was going for a confrontation? Good, Dunmoore hadn''t killed a Blackguard in a long time. Best to play along. "I don''t have to take that from you, Lamech, you faithless mongrel."


    "Enough," said Arkan.


    "Arkan?" asked Tavish, who had always gotten on well.


    "I''ve been looking over the maps," said Arkan. "William''s pattern is apparent."


    "Pattern?" asked Tavish. "He''s been wandering this whole time aimlessly."


    "No, he has not," said Arkan. "He has a very determined purpose, thus why he is able to move so quickly. As far as I can tell, he has two goals.


    "First, to stop the plague by any means necessary. Second, to dismantle our organizations.


    "Raynald and Rusara knew this to be how he would react, thus why they sent him. Jehair is a professional and likely steering him to that end. Her own agenda would only be helped by our destruction at this stage."


    "Both have fled east, and the attacks on their holdings begin even now.


    "Of course, William knows he''s being used. But he''ll do as he has been trained to do because he likes doing it. And, at this stage, he has no incentive not to cooperate with Raynald''s plans." Lilas was looking with interest. "Raynald trained his attack dog well."


    "So you have no plan for a hero?" asked Dunmoore, incredulous.


    "The plan has always been to be the lesser evil," said Arkan. "We make sure we are the least vile of the ''evil'' factions and ally against the vampires. The naive, wide-eyed idealists need someone to guide them. They use our help, live happily ever after and decide we''re not total monsters."


    "It won''t work on Gabriel," said Lamech.


    "Oh, come off it," said Tavish. "He''s just trying to get to Gel Carn and got sidetracked."


    "William is intelligent and highly motivated," said Lamech. "He finds our existence abhorrent. He may not ''want'' to be here, but he will not forget us again. Luxury has no hold over him; he camped in the street to save on silver. His healing powers give him the pretext to go where he wishes. And he is a dangerous warrior with powerful companions.


    "Our enemy cannot be bargained with, negotiated with, or bribed."


    "Well, then, Dunmoore," said Lilas. "Perhaps you should take your best men you can rely on, find William Gabriel, and kill him immediately. He is, after all, your subordinate." That seemed provocation enough.


    But something more ought to be brought out. "Considering your position in the church, Lilas, you have little fear of Elranor." sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "In my experience," said Lilas with a smirk. "The gods help those who help themselves. And usually not in their name." And he dangled a symbol of Elranor before pocketing it. "Very nice silver.


    "But the simple is a bit outworn."


    That was enough atheism from the priesthood.


    Dunmoore punched Lilas in the face, breaking his nose and sending him floor to the ground with a cry. As he tried to get up, Dunmoore kicked him in the crotch with an armored boot. Then drawing his sword, he raised it to kill him right there and then. Lilas staggered back, staring up in terror.


    "Dunmoore, if you kill Lilas, we have no puppet in Ascorn," said Arkan with a sigh. "You know how important that port is to operations. And Rius is done for at this point. Besides, Lamech is right.


    "This is not personal, it is not political, and it has nothing to do with religion. It is necessary for Sir Gabriel to be taken out of the picture."


    Dunmoore sheathed his sword as Lilas gasped in fear beneath him, pulling until he was backed into the corner. Turning away, Dunmoore changed his mind, turned, and stepped on Lilas'' leg until he heard the snap. Lilas screamed, and Dunmoore turned around as a single, sorrowful tear went down his cheek.


    Lilas had begun to sob uncontrollably in agony.


    "What the hell are you complaining about, archdeacon?" asked Tavish. "You and your buddies own the Healers Guild? If you can''t pay the listed prices, I''ve no sympathy at all."


    "I don''t think he can walk like this," said Lamech in amusement.


    "I''ve walked with a broken leg before," said Arkan in irritation. "And walking out of this room in a splint could attract attention."


    "Dunmoore, heal him. You''ve made your point."


    Dunmoore nodded and turned to heal him. Setting his hand on his leg, Dunmoore channeled the power of Elranor. It felt foreign, but the leg knitted, as did his nose and he helped him up. "Lilas, don''t ever insult the gods in my presence again."


    Lilas was white-faced and shuddered and Dunmoore moved him over to a seat. Lamech motioned to two men who poured him a drink. Lilas took it and drank it while gasping. "Alright, Lilas. Have a drink and we''ll think about your proposition. Just remember; Being under a noble''s roof is no protection when you are suggesting murdering a noble.


    "Especially one who is the son of somebody much more important than you."


    "You cannot simply cut down the scion of a great house in public," said Dunmoore.


    "Then find him in a dark place far from help and kill him in his sleep," said Arkan.


    "And hope it''s not like this one," said Tavish.


    Dunmoore considered his chances of killing everyone in this room.


    The problem was that these men were only the faces of their organization. Decapitating them would throw those organizations into chaos. However, it would be impossible to manage them. That would mean all out war, at a time when the nobility did not know the sides and were unprepared. If these men stayed alive, then things would continue to move against organized crime.


    So Dunmoore would have to give the appearance of hunting Gabriel in some form.


    "What about Atravain?" asked Tavish suddenly. "She likes him and she might wreck everything. She''s gone to a lot of our meetings."


    "Prince Bor was at the meeting, so she can''t expose us directly," said Arkan. "Not without implicating the royal family, at any rate."


    Lamech paused. "We have those slaving contracts.


    "The ones'' that run through Blackfear. Cirithil has a source of them that has hitherto been untapped. If Atravain were to lose her slaves, Cirithil could supply what she needed.


    "Make her need slaves, and Cirithil will be the only supplier. He can fleece her."


    "Which will mean Rundas'' and the church will owe us a favor," said Arkan.


    "No killing the slaves," said Arkan. "Imogen''s orders and you don''t want to disobey those. If you do, you''ll have a very bad run of luck.


    "The Goddess of Thieves is not one to be crossed lightly."


    "Fine by me," said Tavish. "I can free some of them from plantations and trade them back to Kata as a peace offering. Maybe get a meeting with Tanith Telus while we''re at it."


    "Going for the titles, huh?" asked Imogen.


    "Now or never," said Tavish. "Run a few messages through Rius, talk to Anborn, and I''ll be set. Edmund Telus has some debts to pay off.


    "I think I can help."


    "I''ll take care of negotiations," said Arkan. "I need to check up on the Ascorn Thieves Guilt anyway. Lilas'' plan should be underway by then, so it should give us everything we need."


    "Then we all have our plans," said Dunmoore.


    Silence.


    "Good luck, everyone," said Arkan.


    Tavish nodded. "You too."


    Dunmoore stayed where he was as everyone walked out of the room. Lilas last of all, looked at him with hate. Spinal vanished into the shadows, and Imogen paused. All of them would be at one another''s throats in only a little while, knowing it. Looking to Gavkin who had stood silent for some time, he considered things.


    "Gavkin," said Dunmoore. "Lamech is a problem.


    "I don''t want to see at another meeting."


    "Yes sir," said Gavkin, standing up and loosening his hammer. "I''ll handle it."


    "Good," said Dunmoore. "Meet me on the crossroads outside Antres and see if you can get some help over to Luke Atravain and his people. Harm must not be brought to them."


    "What of Sir Gabriel?" asked Gavkin.


    "I''ll deal with that matter as I see fit," said Dunmoore. "And personally, if it comes to it.


    "Send in Suran when you leave. He''s not be told about any of this."


    "I swear it shall be done," said Gavkin.


    And he left.


    A little while later, Suran came back. The meeting was taking place in Lady Atravain''s own castle, in one of the far-off and distant rooms. In the old west wing. "Lord Dunmoore, you wanted to speak with me after the meeting."


    "Suran, we must talk," said Dunmoore.


    "What is it?" asked Suran.


    "You''re going to Ascorn to heal the sick and injured," said Dunmoore. "Don''t argue; it''s good work, and it will repair your image."


    "But Lord Dunmoore, I want to fight-" said Suran.


    "I know," said Dunmoore. "But this happens to every Paladin. Sometimes you get stuck with missions you don''t like. You just have to do them anyway and keep going until you get out of the narrows.


    "I shall be plain; you''ve been too focused on advancing. I know you have your reasons, and they are good ones. But you''ve overplayed your part.


    "You cannot win this rivalry with William Gabriel, and it is a waste of your time.


    "It has nothing to do with your quality. He has a power of healing I have not seen in a long time. He is highly talented, well-connected, better trained, and has better lineage and riches. By trying to defeat him, you are moving the battle into his own ground.


    "You will have to restart from the ground up."


    "All over?" asked Suran. "How did I misstep?"


    "You didn''t precisely," said Dunmoore. "But your conversation with Baron Hawkthorne has stained his reputation. At present, he is your best and only means of advancement.


    "You snubbed all of those nobles. And unlike Sir Gabriel, you lack political and family connections. So their words have power over you. No one except Baron Hawkthorne will risk insulting them by helping you.


    "Letan might be an alternative, but he is not a martial man. And he can''t be connected to you after losing face."


    "What was this meeting about?" asked Suran. "I didn''t like the look of some of those in it. Gavkin looked grim."


    "Nothing. Just the usual shameful realities of politics," Dunmoore sighed. "Evil men, Suran, think that brutality and cruelty give you power. They assume that the ability to twist and destroy is the ultimate measure of strength.


    "But when you twist something else, you are also twisting yourself."


    "Like the Devouring Sword from my world," said Suran. "In the old legends."


    "Precisely," said Dunmoore.


    There was silence for a moment.


    "Are you afraid you''ll fall?" asked Suran.


    "Everyone falls the first time, Suran," said Dunmoore. "Everyone.


    "Now, some people fall earlier than most. Some fall worse than others. William fell before he became a Paladin and picked himself up the first time. I fell... somewhere along the line, and so has everyone else.


    "The measure of a man is not his ability to make no mistakes. Mistakes are inevitable when taking risks."


    "Right," said Suran. "This uh... this isn''t working out as I''d thought it would."


    "It never does," said Dunmoore sadly. "I''ve become a lot of things I never wanted to be. Dismissed."


    "Yes sir," said Suran.


    For his part, Dunmoore wrote out a detailed account of the meeting. Then, copying it several times, he sent three letters. One to Atravain, whose very castle it had happened in. And one to King Gavin, and one to King Andoa. The last and fourth he sent to Raynald De Chevlon and told him to use it for later.


    And Raynald had messengers waiting to take it. And the last, he sent to Princess Ansara, who he knew to be far more intelligent than she let on.


    It would soon be time for a cleansing flame.

 Book Two: The Realm of the Dead

    The journey from Castle Atravain was far worse than Luke imagined.


    William had made it look easy, but they had not even left the sight of the walls going south before they ran into trouble.


    There were bugs and the hot sun to contend with. And there was little in the way of good conversation to be had. The villages they passed were miserable places. The people were plagued with sores and injuries, and the wild pigs were a menace. If anything, they had become more dangerous after Janice started hunting them.


    Here they saw some real action, though.


    Luke, Edara, Saul, and the others all organized a great deal of noise to send the pigs running. At the same time, Bags, Alasa, and some of their people herded the pigs toward a line of spearmen. Rutger and Peter were waiting for them, and the points of their spears claimed several of the pigs quickly.


    Luke did not see the killing blow, but he found Rutger and Peter speaking over their bodies. There were three of them, and they were huge. A great fire was made and the pigs were put on spits and turned over it. Soon they all feasted together in the center and broke out a great deal of ale.


    "Did William kill six of these things?" asked Edara, a freckled girl with brown hair tied behind her head. The pork was cooking on spits in the village center.


    "He was guided by Jehair," said Saul. "She knew the easier marks."


    "Sir Gabriel is the sort of person who wouldn''t leave an area without doing many good deeds," said Grace wistfully. "He''s a fine knight and worthy of aspiration." She often spoke of him, and Luke wondered how Jaina was doing.


    They''d spoken a lot together. Luke wasn''t sure how he felt about that.


    "They say he''s coming to heal them," said Saul. "This could lead to a cult of personality."


    "Shouldn''t there be a Paladin out here," said Bags, adjusting his crossbow.


    "They''re stretched thin," said Luke. "They have to rotate villages. And some of them have been worked to exhaustion."


    "The Paladin is here," said a grim voice.


    Sir Gavkin walked down the path toward them. With him was another Paladin that Luke did not recognized. Gavkin wore a sky blue cape and plain armor and held a huge hammer on his back. Arriving, he at once turned to the village chief. "Take me to the sick and injured. I am under orders from Lord Dunmoore and cannot stay long."


    He healed them quickly and without prayer, and the effort obviously tired him. Nor did he seem to enjoy the measure, and he obviously did not want to be there. Coming out, Gavkin seemed more embittered and asked questions. However, Grace put a hand on his shoulder. "You''d best rest and eat.


    "You''re no good to anyone if you die of exhaustion."


    "Yes, I see your point," said Gavkin.


    Gavkin ate with them and told a bit about his mission. He and the other Paladin, Anos, were from Bretus originally. Gavkin had taken part in the wars and slain many undead. That had been in the land of Walesan, which had come under siege by the Dark Queen Sylvar. However, they had departed for fear of losing their grace in the wars.


    "Surely a Paladin is needed in the darkest of places," said Grace.


    "It was a different kind of dark," said Gavkin. "After the victory, Bretus gained control of Walasan. He began building castles and enforcing taxes. The Walesan''s refused to acknowledge the supremacy of our race.


    "There began a brutal revolt. The tactics employed were unbefitting a Paladin. I could not afford to take them up for fear of losing my grace. Thus I have taken service under Lord Dunmoore."


    "I am from Ataka," said Anos, combing his beard. He had olive skin and wielded a flail and chainmail. His voice had a chivalric and tired tone to it, but proud with a strange accent. "Of the noble family of Dreshae, though we are somewhat diminished. My Father was unwise in some of his ventures, which left us poorer than we ought to be.


    "I became a Paladin to make a name for myself. And when Ataka became more dangerous, I came here to seek glory. But, unfortunately, the failure of the priests has seen my time more spent in humiliation."


    "Was there some kind of local trouble?" asked Luke.


    "There''s always local trouble in Ataka," said Rutger grimly.


    "'' Local'' trouble is a touch unsophisticated a word," said Anos in amusement. "But yes. My efforts to root out crime in Ataka became inconvenient for the governor, Aedius. And he sent me forth."


    "Have you made a lot of arrests?" Edara asked.


    "No," said Anos. "The city watch has long been subverted by the lure of coin.


    "My presence was spurring when my sister''s friend was taken captive by a slave ring. They had intended to turn her into a prostitute. Moved by pity, I tracked her down. It took a great deal of effort, but I found where they operated.


    "From I slew the foul rebels and freed the women they held captive including my sister''s friend and servant.


    "Once done, I knew they''d seek revenge, so I deduced the location of their partners and killed all of them too. Then they sent a group of armed men after me in retribution, so I killed them. Finally, I found the location of the place that usually bought from them and killed all of them. I wiped out a major prostitution ring.


    "Unfortunately, many of the less useful nobility had invested in it and it lost them a great deal of money. Thus I went forth and fought in the fall of Zigilus as a legionnaire and did well there. That was where I got my flail after my sword broke."


    "Why were you killing these people?" asked Grace.


    "Zigilus..." Anos shuddered. "It was a city of horrors, and it was corrupting our land much like this one. They practiced infant sacrifice and were obsessed with the lusts of the place to the point of utter depravity.


    "Ill content to stew in their own rot, they spread their decay to other lands. We were the judgment of the gods.


    "But, now I work as a healer." His tone was bitter.


    "What''s wrong with being a healer?" asked Grace.


    "It''s undignified," said Anos simply. "To be retasked to woman''s work. The priests ought to have done all this long ago. And if not that, we must hunt wild pigs.


    "Necessary but hardly glorious.


    "Lord Dunmoore has immense patience to undertake such a task without hesitation."


    "Well, we could use your help," said Peter. "We''re bound for a confrontation with the satyrs who have been gathering."


    "Our own mission," said Gavkin. "Is to kill the Blackguard Lamech. He has caused much harm and escaped justice for too long. Lord Dunmoore has ordered his filth be removed from this world.


    "However, we lost his trail.


    "We shall go with you until a better option presents itself."


    "For now," said Saul. "We should deal with the Healer''s Guild."


    At that moment, a dark-haired boy Luke''s age came forward. He wore a long, black cloak and silver chain. "The Healer''s Guild in this town has been driven out and their funds confiscated.


    "On behalf of Lady Janice, I carried out investigations. As a result, I determined they had violated their charter at several points. I have done this several times now, and they were not even trying to hide it."


    "And you are?" asked Luke.


    "I am Joseph Korlac," said Korlac. "I''ve come off my right road in response to the crisis. I was bound for the Tournament of Kings." S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, you can get back on it with us," said Luke. "We''ve got some new weapons Bags provided us, and we''re hunting satyrs."


    "Actually, we''ve been mostly hunting pigs," said Bags.


    "The pigs are a pressing concern," said Rutger. "They eat everything. Including us."


    "I''ll go with you to the other villages," said Korlac.


    Organizing the seizure of Healer''s Guild property was unpleasant. Luke had to force a lot of people out of their jobs. What made it worse is that virtually no one cared. However, Korlac proved to be very good at finding legal reasons to dismantle a business. He did it to several businesses and slapped numerous people with fines for violations.


    His manner was professional and calm, and he learned to use the weapons quite effectively.


    They spent a few days going from village to village as quick as possible and doing more of the same. Gavkin and Anos proved to be good companions. During this time, he examined defenses, spoke with people, and learned just how bad things had been.


    William obviously must have been in the worst of moods when he came. How had he kept such an even temper?


    "So, Luke, what happened to Sir Gabriel? Shouldn''t he be with us?" asked Peter eventually over the campfire. "We ought to have invited him. We could use his help out here."


    "Peter, I know what you mean, but no," said Luke, shaving in a mirror he brought. "William has business of his own and I''m afraid he''ll have people after him. Rundas is probably going to blame him for this.


    "Besides, if Antion is the source of all light in Harlenor as they say, I''d say we''re in the wrong nation."


    "That''s not fair," said Edara, polishing her axe. She looked more at home out here in the camps than she had in the castle. "We''ve just had things get away from us."


    "You were warned," said Korlac, cleaning his crossbow. He had only just joined up with them, and Luke wondered if his dark hair wasn''t too long. Still, he''d taken no time at all to familiarize himself with how to wield it. "And you did not listen."


    "I wish you''d stop pretending to be this archon of judgement," said Edara. "We both know you''ve never been involved in a hanging. I have. You''re just pretending to be an avatar of your position."


    "I am not!" said Korlac too quickly.


    "To be fair," said Alasa, an elven maiden who had joined up with them late. She''d thus far remained silent. "Everyone was warned."


    "Yes, but House Korlac heeded the warning," said Korlac, looking toward the woods. "We quarantined everything long before the situation in Ascorn. And we stopped these criminal scum cold in our own lands long ago.


    "Lord Arthur was wise enough to ask our assistance. So my Father has dispatched personal healers to tend to the border villages. And none of these black market back doors exist."


    "Rutger, what are our chances, do you think?" asked Peter, looking to his older brother, who had stubble and had cut himself shaving.


    "Some of us might die, Peter," said Rutger. "Satyrs are not to be underestimated."


    "All of us might die, and I think some of us will die," said Bags grimly. The dwarf was from villages on the border with Seathorius. They often did smithwork for Atravain and her soldiers and had done very well out of it. But they had suffered satyr raids before, and he knew what he was talking about.


    Dwarfs did not have nobles so much as a patriarchal structure. "It''s why I insisted we arm our servants; we need all the help we can get." He was polishing his crossbow as well with a love and care Korlac did not.


    "Why not get the militia?" asked Peter.


    "We can''t rely on the militia, Peter," said Edara. "They haven''t been drilled at all, thanks to the disarmament. They might break as soon as things get tough.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "I don''t think we have much credibility; William seemed to think we were doing nothing. Janice is already handling other things, and Jaina is looking around."


    "What exactly is the plan?" asked Peter, who never seemed to stop asking questions.


    Luke pointed to the ridge near them. It was a rocky one, and very stood, and the land became barren closer to the Black Mountain. Some of their company turned back or to one side. They had other businesses in different places, and many had had enough.


    Behind them, you had a far green country of scenic villages and well-ordered streets. "There''s a ridge down there, right here. It has a clear view of the approaches to the village in every direction.


    "We''ll lie in wait on it and light our campfires where the enemy can see. The satyrs are always looking for opportunities. So eventually, someone will attack us."


    "And if they don''t?" asked Rutger.


    "Then we just sit here and make sure no invaders cross this ridge," said Luke. "At the very least, we''ll ensure that they''ll have to take a long walk to get out here."


    "How long can we wait?" asked Peter.


    "I''ve rationed everything," said Bags, stroking his beard. "So a week or two, more if we take trips back for supplies."


    "Can we actually resist a determined attack?" asked Rutger up here.


    "Yes," said Luke.


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Edara.


    "Well, yes," said Luke. "But as nobles, we''re wearing armor and weapons. We have crossbows, and we''re armed. And this isn''t an especially important place.


    "Just being here will likely deter an attack. And if there is an attack, we''ll be able to withstand it."


    "It''s a good plan," said Bags. "Assuming there aren''t too many. If enough of them come against us it won''t do much good."


    "We''ll drive them before us," said Peter.


    "Yeah," said Edara. "I''ll bet each one of us will slay ten of them."


    Alasa considered things, adjusting her dark hair-buns. "You really thought this through."


    "Jaina helped me work it all out," said Luke. "Trust me, it won''t work out as we expect with Father as an opponent. He''s been about lately, and that means trouble." Luke had always been able to sense his Father''s work, just beyond sight.


    Right now, he was doing something, and that meant trouble. "Jaina is out there now, trying to negotiate."


    "What?" said Gavkin suddenly. "Why has she no escort?"


    "Father gives us a kind of luck," said Luke. "So long as he finds it amusing, she should be able to drag some of them down here. They get here, and we''ll be on the ridge. When they start climbing and are near enough, we come up over the ridge and fire into them. We''ve got two shots with our crossbows; we use both.


    "Jaina is smart too. She knows enough to avoid real trouble.


    "If that doesn''t scatter them, it''s the sword."


    "What if it does?" asked Edara.


    "Then we stay here and wait for them to get friends and do it over again," said Luke.


    "I''m going to take a look at the trees out there to the west," said Grace. "There''s something in the forest. A wound I want to heal."


    "You cannot go without escort," said Anos.


    "I am quite safe in nature," said Grace. "Don''t worry about me. I can talk to animals."


    And she hurried off without a word.


    "Why didn''t we get Suran for this?" asked Peter.


    "Suran is an excellent fighter," said Anos. "I''d like to have him with us."


    "I tried to get him," said Luke. "But he had to hurry off on a mission on a split run. Apparently, Dunmoore had something significant for him in Ascorn."


    "Edara, you said something good uh..." said Rutger.


    "It''s symbolic," said Edara. "If we win a victory here, it''ll boost morale and give us a chance to get more responsibilities. We don''t have anything to do back home."


    "We should have a militia," said Saul. "Dismissing the militia system gave us economic power. However, it has allowed us to undercut the lower classes. Without proper motivation, we cannot rely on them.


    "The Paladins can only get us so far."


    "Personally, I just want to test out my crossbow design," said Bags, finishing his work. "I sold one to Rius, but he never uses the thing. It lies in some vault because it''s not that shiny. This is the first chance I''ve gotten."


    "I recommend that the servants from the front ranks of the battle line, Luke," said Korlac.


    "Korlac?" asked Luke. "That''s hard on them, isn''t it?"


    "Lower class individuals traditionally take more risks on the battlefield," said Korlac. "A noble who is killed cannot be replaced as easily. In legal terms, the nobility are more important.


    "And, none of us except me have any real experience at combat. I shouldn''t even be here, but someone has to fill in."


    "Well, we''re awfully grateful," said Edara. "Saul, what about you?"


    Saul adjusted his crossbow quickly. Dark hair and effeminate features made him look younger than he was before. He handled it perfectly. "The action is a serious risk.


    "However, if it is not taken, we will do nothing. Our options for attaining respectability are limited by economics. Even if we do not become professional soldiers, a victory here will give us credibility.


    "We should publish at least a small record of all this. House Gabriel has gained major political power through expert propaganda. They utilize the Dust Elven printing presses to show tales of their adventures. Until now, it was assumed they were largely exaggerated.


    "It may be wise to send documents of our own to show the nobility are not idle."


    "Saul is right; if you don''t take a few risks, your House will fall," said Rutger. "Just look at Rius; he''s in absolute disgrace. The entire Paladin Order has had to go out and divert itself to cleaning up what he let happen. And why?


    "Because he didn''t do anything, just took his bribes and became irrelevant. He''d have some credibility now if he''d gone to Khasmir or sent some soldiers."


    "I wanted to go out there," said Luke. "But Mother insisted it was a death trap."


    "She was right," said Peter. "Rutger and I both went.


    "It was a nightmare. The satyrs were not good company, the raishans were worse, and no matter how many we killed, more came. I remember Princess Estela, though; she was magnificent on the field of battle. She must have cut down dozens of them, and Sir Frederick was glorious out there too."


    "Did you see William in action?" asked Luke.


    "We were on the opposite part of the conflict," said Rutger. "It was a big war with a lot of heroes. His usual job was going into dark, hard-to-find caves. Ones'' where anything could be lurking and dispelling demons. His companions were Tanith and Rusara and Prince Kusher.


    "Nobody wanted that job because most people who went in were carved to pieces. But William just did it as a job. Never drink with the soldiers or anything; just went from one place to another. He moves with marvelous speed, as do his men. And his harp can create music to disrupt a great many dark powers.


    "Tanith and Kusher enjoyed themselves. And at the end of it, he traded in the Goldenwood Harp to get the Dreaming Goddess out of a political marriage."


    "That''s sweet," said Edara.


    "This is interesting but not relevant," said Saul.


    "Saul is right," said Bags. "Most of the diseases we''re dealing with are foreign, and they didn''t come in from Ascorn. The Healer''s Guild was given a lot of money to work in Ascorn, and they didn''t.


    "So supply broke down, and now there are fields rotting. Rius ought to be replaced."


    "You don''t just replace a noble," said Rutger.


    "People are going to starve soon," said Luke. "I know Borinius got off, but that was just one area. We can''t look the other way here. And Rius has been corrupt to the gills from the start.¡±


    "He''s the one who let this whole thing happen," said Rutger. "And he''s been caught with all kinds of illegal activity he knew about. And on top of all of it, he can''t even keep order in the streets.


    "Reg Hawkthorne was in prison, and now no one knows where he is. And no one has been able to get what happened from him."


    "What''s your point?" asked Saul.


    Korlac nodded. "If there was ever a time to get rid of a noble, Saul, it is now."


    "Removing noble houses is a dangerous precedent," said Saul.


    "Yes, but letting people do whatever they want also sets a dangerous precedent," said Edara. ¡°Refusing to accept a dangerous precedent can be as dangerous as making one.¡±


    "What would you do? If you had your way?¡± asked Bags.


    "I''d enforce the law," said Korlac.


    "... That''s a little coldblooded," said Saul, looking disturbing.


    Luke didn''t get it.


    "House Korlac doesn''t have this problem," said Korlac. "We don''t have it because when people commit crimes, we hang them. Merchants, peasants, even nobles sometimes. If you behave badly, you suffer the consequences. And if we can''t hang someone, we do something else to make them suffer.


    "There has to be punishment for misdeeds, or they will be repeated. The pain must be inflicted for instruction to be remembered."


    "Doing that would see you have bodies hanging by every wayside," noted Alasa. "Do you have personal experience with this?"


    "Would you call this preferable?" asked Korlac, looking out to where plagued bodies were being burned in the nearby village.


    "I''d much rather have neither," admitted Luke.


    "Splendid for you both," said Bags. "Focus on the battle."


    They stayed there for several days and took turns going out to different places to check on their progress. The sun was unbearable and the nights were miserable camping beneath the stars. Luke tried to remember his training under Jehair. Feel the life around you, the world around you, and know it is one and yet separate. Do not resist the stream; flow with it and direct your course.


    Word came in from various areas with Korlac, and they made notes. As they did, Luke began to realize that everyone knew Jehair. She had been all over, and not all these villages could have been visited by William. How had she not seen this coming and warned him?


    There were other stories, prisons raided, slave camps freed and channeled toward Ascorn. Tavish''s men had broken open several slave houses and taken them off to camps.


    "Jehair is a traitor," said Korlac suddenly.


    "What?" said Luke. "What do you mean?"


    "She saw all of this, yet no warning was given," said Korlac. "And she works in many of the villages we might fight. If she knew of this, she should have told us.¡±


    "There might be an explanation," said Luke. "We don''t know that she works with these people. Rius knows her well, and he..."


    "Rius is corrupt," said Korlac. "He let the criminals walk right in. And he couldn''t even keep control of Reg. Unless he had completely abandoned all pretense of legality, how is that possible?


    "It''s as though he was meeting people at the docks to take their bribes."


    "I admit," said Edara. "Father has sometimes had to go through Ascorn on business. Rius is always polite but never takes a stand. And I''ve never observed his men making an arrest."


    "Neither have I," said Rutger grimly. "And I go there often.


    "The tolls at the gates are ridiculous, we can''t do any business legitimately."


    Korlac wrote down all this as everyone talked.


    "Is there anyone who''s not a traitor for you, Korlac?" asked Luke. "I mean, we had all the information too. We didn''t do anything because we didn''t understand the need.


    "Are you going to wipe out everyone in Antion?"


    "I would hang as many people as were possible without disrupting the nation," said Korlac. "Nobles are central to our system and in short supply. So for pragmatic purposes, I would spare the least excessive among them.


    "Nevertheless, there must be a great many hangings to make up for this."


    ¡°That kind of escalation could lead to civil war,¡± noted Saul.


    "That''s your Father talking," said Bags. "As usual."


    "My Father is a great man," said Korlac, standing up. "He kept order in the domain of Brisgald and his own. Between us, his methods are superior."


    "On a small scale," said Bags. Then he raised this crossbow. "You see this weapon, Korlac. Beautiful isn''t it? Works well. Piercing armor is like nothing else.


    "But if you made it a few sizes smaller or larger, it wouldn''t work. All the dimensions would be wrong and you''d have to adjust. Now your Father''s system of law and order works well. In a territory he knows well, or when coordinating with a local Lord like Arthur.


    "Arthur is competent and knew his own people.


    "But try the same system in a larger place with a different people, and you''d get revolution. The people here aren''t going to put up with that kind of law and order, they''ve had enough of us as it is. They''ll go straight to the criminals and take their side."


    "You would need time," said Saul. "Time for them to hate the people they have to deal with. If we improve our own image, then the criminals will look worse. The best way to do that is to be seen in action.


    "Such as here. It was a good choice, Luke."


    "I''ll level with you," said Luke. "I camped near the village so we''d have someone to run to for help."


    Laughter from everyone. Even Saul.


    "Could we arrest him?" asked Luke.


    Silence.


    "I''m saying it," said Luke. "Arrest Rius for mismanagement or something to that effect. Put someone else in charge."


    "Lilas has always been beneficial when we have a problem," said Edara. "He often helps us get what we need when the systems break down. The supply breakdowns have always been wrong, and he knows Ascorn''s systems.


    "We could-"


    "One does not arrest nobility," said Korlac, continuing to write his report. "They are either killed or spared in the aftermath of battle. And Lilas is completely unsuitable as a ruler."


    "Why?" asked Edara.


    "He rules the land south of Lord Arthur''s domain himself," said Korlac. "The Hand of Anoa, named for his last battle with King Faras.


    "However, he abandoned it to seek work as a financier. It shows a complete lack of personal responsibility and disrespect for our system. If he can''t take care of his own people, why should he be given greater responsibilities?"


    "It is a poor and desolate place," said Bags. "No trade can go through there because the Wood Elves do not allow it. So everything goes by the King''s Road and such. And it can''t be denied that Lilas has done very well for himself and others in his career."


    "Sir," said Korlac. "I do not care if Lilas made money for the entire universe. He abandoned his birthright for money. He traded his honor for a business empire.


    "If his ancestral domain means nothing to him, why would a new one fit him? If he were given Ascorn, he would immediately begin looking for a way to trade that for something better."


    Luke sighed.


    Everything had gone wrong since that day. John Korlac had gone to a room with Baron Hawkthorne, Lord Rius, Arkan Lantan and many others and called for a return to law and order. To phase out the Thieves Guild and restore things to how they had been before.


    He had been laughed out of the room.


    ''If we''re going to have crime,'' Arkan had said. ''It may as well be organized crime.''


    Mother had described the drunken fools, laughing at the one who told them to reclaim their birthright. Dismissing him as outdated, a has-been of no importance, whose ancestral dignity meant nothing. And those who agreed with him dared not speak up.


    It had led to a new era of corruption and bribery.


    It had led to Father''s campaigns.


    House Korlac had never forgotten. And Luke had a feeling that they were planning revenge even now. John Korlac had never forgotten anything, and once angered he did not forget.


    "Once Rius is dealt with, we intended to look into Lilas," said Korlac. "He owns a great deal more than he pretends. All those favors given have allowed him to do very well in business. That village over there has a number of shops. All of them transport goods using merchants that owe him favors and fealty.


    "I will say nothing of their names in the record to avoid trouble being brought on them."


    Luke turned his mind to the mission, and Korlac wrote many more reports. The camping trip became dull, and Luke became convinced no one would attack.


    Finally, the day of battle came.

 Chapter One: The Day of Battle

    A light rain had hit their tents, and the fire had burned a bit low beneath the shelter. More men from the local militia arrived, eager to help fight the satyrs. One or two skirmishes were fought with them in other places.


    Yet nothing happened here. War seemed to be a mix of incredible boredom and terror. Luke wished they could get to the terror.


    Word had come to them of hunts and sightings here or there. Tales of undead lurking in the fields had been heard now and then.


    The crossbow rewound in Luke''s hands as he overlooked the borders of the plantation. Scouts had been sent in, and madness seemed to have overtaken the satyrs, one more than usual. Having a battle was something he wanted to see, but watching this crossbow get pulled back was just as good.


    How the gears on the two bolts pulled back, the chord stretching. How the arrow gleamed magnificently at the point. Would that he had a target before him.


    "Are you sure these crossbows will be any use?" asked Joseph Korlac, shedding his green cloak.


    "They''re a dwarven invention, Joseph," said Luke. "I want to try them out.


    "I assembled these myself from one Bags gave me as a gift."


    "Oh, come on, Luke," said Peter. "There is no substitute for skill. These crossbows won''t be of any use at all against supernatural creatures.


    "And a well-trained warrior can usually outfight an amateur, even if they are disadvantaged."


    "Speaking of which," said Rutger. "Are we sure about this?"


    "We have to fight the satyrs," said Luke. "If we don''t, we won''t be credible as nobles. Whoever attacks us out here will raid someone else if we don''t defeat them."


    "Well do you think we can beat them, even if they show up?" asked Korlac, who had disliked the idea. "I''d much rather be hunting pirates."


    "I hope so," said Luke. "There isn''t anyone else who can do it. Lord Dunmoore has his hands full with the plague, and Sir Gabriel has gone. If we stop them now, we could drive back a full-scale incursion.


    "We''ve got to do this, or we won''t be able to look our people in the eye."


    The others that had come with them readied the crossbows. Unfortunately, they were not as in shape as them, so Luke chose crossbows.


    "We ought to fight them with swords," said Peter.


    "No good," said Luke. "We''d be slaughtered; we''re not experienced enough. Well, I''m not, and Edara and the others aren''t. Father tells me that they will be coming out here over the ridge. We''ll have our fight."


    "You''ve... talked to him," said Korlac, nervous.


    "Yes," said Luke. "I don''t think he expected to hit the same kind of resistance. Now some of you are no good at swordplay, so hang back and let me hold them when it comes to melee. I spent my time in prison somewhat better.


    "Let''s lie low and wait."


    "Jaina is coming!" said Rutger. "Look!"


    "We must go to her aid," said Peter, grasping his sword.


    "Man, your post," said Korlac. "She''s well ahead of them; she''ll make it."


    And they lined the ridge with crossbows.


    And wait, they did, and the spears thrown at Jaina went wide.


    Luke took time to sketch out pictures of the Black Mountain and the forest''s trees. Several others were not happy with the dust and the open sky. But Luke didn''t begrudge them that; many others had already broken off to tend to their own lands.


    Eventually, Jaina came into view. Her blonde hair was immaculate for one who had been through a wood, and she scaled up the slopes. The satyrs were behind and terrible, not like the satyrs that Luke had met with now and then, but really satyrs. Their eyes were wild, with scars and war paint on them, their bodies ritually deformed.


    Luke shot one with his crossbow. A rush of joy came to him as his enemy toppled dead. "I got one! I got one!"


    "Nice work," said Jaina, rushing past him and turning to summon a water sphere. "Celebrate after they''re dead." Then she cast it down to smash back a crowd of them.


    Several other cries of joy came from the other nobles as they fired. Many had come with them or joined them with bows and crossbows as time passed. Some were treating it as a hunting party.


    "Beginners luck," said Bags, firing his crossbow twice and killing two, then reloading.


    The others also fired down at the incoming horde, and one by one, they fell. Others stumbled over the bodies. Yet the satyrs advanced higher like a tide. They howled and screeched.


    "Good work," said Korlac, firing a shot into one satyr, then another. "Draw your swords; they''ll be on us."


    "We''ll charge and meet them down the hill," said Luke, smiling as he drew the blade.


    And the others did too with mad joy. The men of Antion rushed down with cudgels and axes and whatever they could find.


    "For my Father!" cried Luke. "For the God of Madness!"


    And as one, the company charged downhill toward their enemy. The satyrs were tired from the run, and many died or were injured. Luke clashed with one, falling on them, driving it back, and cutting it down. Peter ran one through, then sliced down two more in short order while Edara dueled with another axe to sword. Korlac turned a strike and cut off the hand, then the throat. Anos and Gavkin struck down many with blows from hammer and flail, and the satyrs gave way before them.


    But a satyr cleaved down a man as he charged too recklessly. Another fell to a spear thrust before his comrade avenged him. But, even so, the tide was falling back.


    And then came a stench of death, and out of the trees came many more satyrs. And with them were many that were already dead. Their rotting carcasses were animated and halted in their decay. They rushed forward in silent rage. Men flinched back, but Peter and Rutger charged forward and Anos and Gavkin with them.


    Soon all the others did, and the battle was joined.


    Luke was dueling with a satyr back and forth. His first time in battle, and it was great. The feel of blood rushing, the screams of rage, his sword darting back and forth in the light. An undead came at him from behind, but Bags cleaved it down with an axe. Rutger cut down two as a peasant was overtaken and had his throat torn out. Then, rising again as undead, they met their fellows.


    The sword Luke parried his foe and ran him through with a smile. An undead leaped at him, frothing with puss from one eye. Warding it off with a shield, he slashed it down. But the satyr he had just killed rose again, and he also had to cut it down. Similar scenes played out around him, and more undead were coming. Gavkin hewed many with his hammer as Anos'' mace smashed down three, and light emanated from his shield.


    It was everything he''d ever dreamed of.


    Driving his sword through a satyr, he clashed swords with one another as it raised a sword to kill comrades. Several of his comrades screamed, shot wildly, and ran. Others held their ground and continued to fight in a knot. Korlac was fending off an onslaught, deflecting blades with deft moves of his sword. Yet he couldn''t hold forever, and Luke went to his aid. Edara went with him, cleaving the skull of an undead.


    For a time, they fought together, and Luke cut down another, smiling as he did it. Korlac disarmed a satyr and sent him running. Another he slashed the throat off as it came at him. But Luke saw one of the peasants with him stabbed by an undead and rising again. As the satyrs fought on, more began to fall. He tried to shield a peasant with his armor, but the man was too aggressive. Another cut down a satyr while Peter hewed down one after another.


    Peter fought with a magnificence Luke had not seen. He struck down one after another, even as more came. Then, driving them down, he nearly pushed them back, and they followed. Yet soon, he came against stronger satyrs, and their blades went him back. Soon there were dozens of bodies at his feet, forming a bulwark by which they rallied.


    "Peter, get back!" said Luke.


    Peter hewed down one and nodded.


    Scaling up the hill, they rushed to cover him. But a satyr hurled a spear that caught him in the back, and he fell to the ground. Luke cried out in denial and anger, drew his crossbow, and fired it to catch the satyr in the heart. The rest hurled spears, which went wild and fled.


    "I got him!" snarled the satyr as he fell dead. "I got him!"


    Of course.


    Peter had killed many of their kind, more than any of the others. To these satyrs, Peter had been the villain. Would he live?


    Another one of Father''s lessons and a bitter one.


    Should Luke have stayed on the hill? Unfortunately, it was too late to know.


    Then a chimera came leaping, bounding out of the trees, and fell on the satyrs from behind. It breathed fire into them and tore them apart. The satyrs turned to fight it, while others battled the nobles. One of the nobles who came with them was cut down before Luke, and another had his heart pierced.


    "Is he alive?" said Luke. "Peter!"


    A satyr was over Peter with a knife. Luke struck him dead with his blade and kneeled by him. Edara was over to one side, rushing toward him.


    "Keep up..." Peter halted. "Keep up the quest...


    "Save Antion."


    Alasa reached him and began tendings his wounds by magic, but Peter did not speak again. Looking around for his shield, Luke saw no sign of it.


    The chimera was gone as suddenly as it had come.


    But Peter was still, and Edara was at his side, trying to heal him with her power. Many of the nobility were fallen as well or had their wounds tended. Many peasants and servants had died as well. Even if Peter lived, how many others had fallen here? He saw someone much like himself mourning a fallen friend who would be just as important as Peter.


    "... That''s sixteen of us dead," said Alasa, who had stayed behind to heal.


    Korlac looked at the boy.


    "Taran," said the boy, who had a nondescript appearance and a wound on his scalp. His tunic was slashed, and his face was bloody. "He was trying to protect me when I fell."


    Had Peter traded his life? Or could have survived? Or was he alive? Did it even matter? There were any number of others who had died. Even if the Peter Luke knew was dead, there was another who was alive. And vice versa.


    It would be as if he was in one room and Luke was in the next. And in sixty or so years, all of them would go into that room. And they''d return to another life and tell stories about it later. And wonder if the stories were just a game they''d made up.


    "Everything returns in a changed form," said Saul.


    "What does that mean?" asked Edara.


    "It is a philosophy," said Saul.


    Luke looked at their bodies sadly and knew these pieces of flesh were not his fallen friends. This part was not glorious; many had been slashed and hurt. "...Well, some of us had to die. That''s how war works."


    "I''m alive," said Alera. "I''d judged I''d do better to heal the wounded. Let me see any injuries."


    So many dead.


    Most of the crossbow bolts had been spent, and now they had to gather the unbroken ones. To say nothing of dragging all the bodies up the hill for burial. It was a long labor, and the dead of the satyrs were burned in a heap with the undead.


    Luke considered things. "Well, it makes sense. We have armor, and they didn''t. Just because they had the same training didn''t mean they''d do as well."


    Rutger looked down. He had cut down many of them. "My brother is..." He faltered. "Peter is dead. He''d lost too much blood."


    Luke fell silent, shifting. So Alasa couldn''t save him. "I... I see.


    "I''m sorry."


    "He... he knew the risks," said Rutger, trying to stay composed. "This was a larger group than we expected. Mother and my sister Isabella will be heartbroken at this."


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    "Go sit down and get a drink," said Luke. "Bags, get him some win.


    "We''ll take care of this."


    Rutger nodded and moved away to drink.


    Luke shifted. "We ought to raise a monument here. To Peter and all the other men who died here to stop them. They deserve it."


    "It might inspire people and remind them the nobility are necessary," said Saul.


    "Saul," said Luke. "Peter is dead?"


    Saul had no outward reaction but seemed unsteady. "I understand, and I am sorry. However, many others are dead. As nobles, we must consider how to make this victory most effective.


    "We owe it to the dead. Peter would not want his sacrifice to be in vain and-"


    "Just stop," said Luke.


    Saul obviously didn''t care, but he seemed like he ought to care and was trying to simulate it. Luke supposed that was the best he could expect; House Marn was coldblooded when it came to it. Mother had found that out once or twice.


    The dead of Antion had high cairns of stone built over them, and the villagers nearby came to pay respects. And the mound of satyrs killed burned to high heaven. Luke just waited, not sure what to do.


    "At least we stopped these things," said Edara. "Luke was right. They''d have sacked a hamlet if we hadn''t wiped them out here."


    "Jaina, why were they attacking you?" asked Korlac.


    "Failed negotiations," said Jaina. "They took me for easy sport, so I ran."


    "What were these undead?" asked Korlac. "How did they rise like this?"


    "I checked the bodies," said Jaina. "These satyrs have sacrificed themselves to the Withering. When they die, they will immediately rise as undead.


    "Some sort of blood rite."


    "These are not a kind of satyr, I know," said Bags. "They''re shorter and stockier than most and tended to hunch their backs. They must have come down from the Black Mountain, so perhaps some clan grew in caves."


    Gavkin had not attended the ceremony, for he and Anos were checking for tracks and standing guard. Eventually, they came back up. "There are tracks here, armored tracks that passed by lately. I believe that Lamech may have passed this way."


    "Indeed," said Anos. "I sense lingering darkness here. Our enemy passed this way.


    "It may be that this was done by his will."


    "There is no proof of that," said Korlac. "He may simply have used the satyrs as cover. Crept into their shadow. It is often done."


    "We shall learn after we find the blackheart," said Anos.


    "Is it wise to go into the woods?" asked Jaina. "You don''t know them."


    "Wisdom is not the way of the Paladin," said Gavkin. "It is courage. And I have learned to navigate by faith."


    Drinking water and eating quickly, the two headed off.


    Luke stood on the hill, wondering at the near-miss Peter had. And he looked at the other people and realized that many of them had lost friends. People they had grown up with were slain in battle. All of them would be different after this.


    "We''re going to have to retrain," said Luke. "We can''t let it end here. If we''d been aiming our crossbows properly and do this properly, all those people still be alive. All of you have brothers and sisters; that was one of the conditions of coming.


    "But it''s no good hunting bandits if we all get killed."


    "We shouldn''t have charged," said Bags regretfully.


    "No," said Edara. "That was the right call. Charging down the hill in numbers and armor after a volley of bolts should have driven them in.


    "We lost because they were better than us. We''d have been wrecked if Peter and Rutger hadn''t been here."


    "We didn''t lose," said Luke. "Jaina is safe, and they didn''t get any further. We achieved our goal. The people of that village saw what we did."


    "Well, you''re not going to like this," said Jaina. "I didn''t want to say it before, with all that was happening. But there are bandits in the woods. They have prisoners taken as slaves. I think they have some kind of market. Taken in raids, apparently, someone is preparing for a large sale."


    Luke halted. "Well, we''ve got to go help them."


    "We''re not going anywhere, Luke," said Korlac. "We barely survived this. "


    "They must be planning to sell them as slaves," said Luke. "But to who?"


    "It must be one of the criminal syndicates," said Korlac. "But we can''t keep fighting here. A direct is out of the question. We''re not good enough."


    Luke nodded. "Alright, Korlac, you get them to bury our dead. Then, Jaina and I will head down and see if we can seize the captives. If we can find out who exactly put them up to this and why we can arrest them."


    "Don''t attack them directly," said Korlac. "You can''t take that many. Instead, go by stealth, or not at all."


    "Stealth?" asked Rutger. "We''re to go by stealth."


    "''We''re not going anywhere," said Korlac.


    Luke saw a crossbow on the ground broken and kneeled by it. It had been shattered. "What happened to this?"


    "A satyr tried to cut me down," said Edara. "So I threw it at him. I panicked."


    "Do you know how hard these things are to make?" said Luke. "Bags, and I had to assemble all of them from scratch. Well, you can make your own after this.


    "I''m not building you another.


    "Let''s go, Jaina. We''ll free as many captives as possible and bring them back here. You''ll stay here and be ready to support us. We''ll need your help, Korlac, in interpreting legal stuff."


    "Legal stuff?" asked Korlac, faintly offended.


    "Yeah," said Luke. "Who might have done this? Who could have supported it? What rules is this all in violation of."


    "Legal stuff?" asked Korlac, mortally offended.


    "It beats the alternative," said Luke. He thought it would be insensitive to say he was having the time of his life.


    There are at least four scores of them...


    Luke went off as quickly as possible, heading down the rocky slope toward the trees. The echoes of madness led him up the slopes toward a distant firelight. Before he got to it, the stars came out, and he found an enclosure of rough and ready men drinking together. In cages, many people of Harlenorian descent and some furbearers were on the far side.


    Looking at Jaina, they nodded.


    "I''ll keep them occupied," said Luke with his crossbow. "You get the people out."


    "So why did we seize all these?" asked one.


    "Eh, these are trouble-makers," said one. "People that won''t be missed. We take them off the streets and get paid a decent sum by a Lord, then sell them for another sum. I hear they''re already setting up new slave networks.


    "Apparently, some distinguished citizens don''t like these ones making businesses independent of nobility. So we''re doing good work by taking them."


    The bandit...


    He was like Luke. He''d have done anything to get out and have some adventure and chosen to become a bandit. Would Luke have done honest work had he never been given the call to adventure? Or would he have abandoned it all to seek glory in this way?


    He would like to think he would go to war.


    But would he have? Would he have the noble character to do so?


    It didn''t matter in the end. These men had to die. And so he fired a bolt across the distance. It shot fast and true and caught his other self in the side of the head. The man fell dead to the ground, and Luke fired another bolt. Then, rewinding his crossbow, he moved to a different place as the bandits got undercover.


    Firing two more times, Luke killed two more, watching them fall dead like puppets. Now they were panicking, and some were rushing out into the woods. These he allowed to escape, but one who was trying to unlatch the cage he shot. Then another. Soon all of them had fled.


    He hoped they became good people, though Father laughed at that.


    Getting to the enclosure, he found the cages open and the people released. "Are all of you alright?"


    "Yes, Sir Atravain," they said.


    "Just Luke," said Luke, feeling disgusted with his class.


    But he was sure to get their names and identities of them. There were too many to record in his private notes. Recording a merchant''s presence in politics was an excellent way to endanger them. It turned out that most of them were self-made men who had worked their way up in their own communities. Several other commoners were disconnected.


    Yet none of the merchants here had taken loans from anyone other than local lords.


    "Is that significant?" asked Luke as they went back.


    "Possibly," said Jaina. "In the old days, a Lord would provide the money to get started. However, thanks to the increase in trade, there are what you could call ''Merchant Lords.''


    "Merchants who are sufficiently wealthy that they can loan to others. Often the poorer Lords use them as a go-between. The Merchant Lords get certain rights in exchange. The ability to use trade and notification of options.


    "With the prolonged peace brought by King Andoa, martial prowess became less critical.


    "If these people are being targeted for using the old system, someone is trying to undercut them. Did you receive any offers before it happened?"


    Most of them had received offers from the church. Bishop Rundas had arrived with armed men, eaten their food, and made an inferior offer. Then walked out afterward, and things had gone silent for a while. Luke wished he could record the merchants in question.


    Suffice to say all of these people are loyalists.


    "They were going to sell our people back to us as slaves," said Edara. "And we''d never have even known."


    "Perfect pretext for revolution," said Saul. "Which could be settled by gracious intervention on behalf of the church. I think that Bishop Rundas has been indulged long enough."


    "No, we''re not killing anyone!" said Luke. "We don''t know he did that.


    "For all we know, someone is trying to frame him up. You can''t shoot Bishops on second-hand rumors and suppositions, Saul. If the church of Elranor isn''t sacred, what is?"


    "The High Priest is a powerful figure," said Korlac. "And assassinating anyone is unacceptable. I would not play the role of an assassin if Antion were falling around me.


    "There will be no killing outside of law or battle."


    Luke sighed, and they focused on burying the dead and getting the people back to the villages. Soon, he found the bodies buried. As he looked at the shallow graves, he realized he felt nothing at all. Massacre plodded off to hunt satyrs, and no one knew where she had gone.


    They worked and worked, and eventually.


    Suddenly, darkness fell over the sun, and turning around Luke saw a man walking toward him, a Blackguard. He could tell him at once by the aura of terror upon him. Luke had sensed his presence before in Castle Atravain, but now he saw him walking. A sword was in his hand, and the people shrank away.


    "Lamech..." said Luke.


    "Turn back now, noble, and you may remain unhurt," said Lamech.


    "You can''t tell me what to do here," said Luke. "This is my family''s land, Lamech."


    "And who do you think benefits by all this?" asked Lamech.


    "I don''t care," said Luke, drawing his sword.


    "Luke..." said Edara. "You can''t take this guy. I''ve seen him fight."


    "No man may tell a Lord of Antion his custom," said Luke. "Go back, Lamech, and you may remain unhurt. There is no one around to report your presence."


    "Then there will be no one to hear you scream," said Lamech.


    "Korlac," said Luke. "Stay out of this."


    Sword raised, Luke faced Lamech. The fiend raised his blade, and they faced one another. Then Lamech struck, and his sword lashed down like a bolt of thunder. Luke stepped aside, the blade wrent a crack in the earth, and the company leaped aside. Even as Luke struck at his shoulder, his enemy moved aside and nearly cut him in half. Their swords met, and Luke was thrown down, having the wind knocked from him.


    As Lamech''s blade descended toward him, Luke rolled aside, and the blade sank into the ground. The earth was rent and pitted by the blow, and Luke struck at the foot of Lamech. Yet Lamech stepped back, even as he prepared to strike again, and brought his sword down. Luke knocked it to one side and grabbed his hand to pull himself up and attack.


    Lamech caught the blade in a clawed gauntlet.


    Laughing, he swung his head forward and bashed Luke''s head. His helmet rang as he fell backward to hit the ground. Luke heard Rutger cry angrily and saw Lamech turn to face him. Their blades met, and Edara came with an axe from behind. Alera went with a spear while Jaina cast some incantation, so Lamech had the ground grip his feet in place. Korlac walked behind with a crossbow, pointed it at his back, and began pulling the trigger.


    Lamech shoved Rutger back with a roar of strength, cut Edara''s axe in half, and broke Alera''s spear. Rutger attacked again. Meanwhile, Edara switched to gripping the axe further up and attacked. Alara went at him with a knife, only to be backhanded back. Edara had her axe parried, and Rutger was kicked back.


    Korlac fired two bolts when they were clear, and Lamech cut one down with a single blow. Another he caught in his bare hand and roared in triumph as he broke it.


    Then Luke tossed his helmet and got Lamech in the head. Snatching up the sword of a dead servant, Luke rushed forward and leaped into the air. Descending, Lamech brought his sword up to meet them. There was a clash, and the sunlight gleamed off the blades to blind both as the sun rose.


    Reeling back, both assumed stances, and Luke went on the offensive, attacking aggressively. Lamech needed to prepare for the strike and was forced to draw back gradually. Yet, in time, he rallied, and the moment was lost.


    All of them were breathing hard now.


    "Where is William Gabriel," said Lamech. "I have a business to settle with him."


    "It doesn''t matter even if I we told you," said Korlac. "He''s with Jehair, one of the greatest trackers in the world. So even if we told you the route, they are sure to know your associates are after them.


    "They''ll blend into the wilderness. You''ll never find them until long after this crisis has passed."


    Lamech paused and laughed. "Ah, then where is Lord Dunmoore?"


    "I wouldn''t-"


    "Luke," said Jaina. "You might beat him, but you''ll lose friends. So let me handle this."


    "Fine," said Luke.


    "Lamech," said Jaina. "Dunmoore took the main road and plans to wait there until William goes by."


    "... That''s a bit of a boring and predictable tactic," said Lamech.


    "How do you-" began Luke.


    "I listen to doors," said Jaina.


    "He has a company of knights with him," said Jaina. "I can show you a method by which you can lure William to you. But in exchange, you have to let these live."


    Lamech halted and shifted his sword. "Very well.


    "I appreciate your assistance."


    "You''re an excellent swordsman," said Saul.


    "Thank you, I''ve had to work to make up for an ill-treated youth," said Lamech, sheathing his sword. Though he was younger than most of them. "I would call your performance passable, but that would be generous for commoners.


    "Any Haldrenians militia would make mincemeat of you."


    "Antion does not like violence as a first solution," said Luke.


    "Then you won''t get a chance to use it as a second," said Lamech. He paused. "I don''t usually pursue this matter, but I''m unlikely to get another chance.


    "Have you ever met a noble with six fingers on his left hand?" The question was posed almost as an afterthought. Luke wondered about that.


    "Do you actually care?" asked Luke.


    "I pursue it out of obligation," said Lamech. "I became a Blackguard as a means to gain power. Vengeance on the one who murdered my Father was the excuse for doing it.


    "Have you or not?"


    "Well, I''ve never met anyone like that," said Edara, getting a sword from a servant. "I doubt they''d answer even if they did."


    "I would not tell you even if I knew," said Korlac.


    No one said anything.


    "You''ve been here as a protege to Arkan for years," said Saul. "If you wanted to know, you''d know already. So what is your purpose?"


    "More an excuse than a purpose," said Lamech. "Blackguards who achieve their goals don''t like it when they do or are killed shortly after.


    "It was a good fight." And standing up, he walked off. Jaina nodded to them and hurried off, cloak billowing behind her.


    It was around this time that the Paladins Gavkin and Anos returned. They came marching up the path and found them there where they were speaking. Luke looked up to see them and rose to greet them. He wondered if Lamech had chosen to attack specifically while they were gone.


    "There has been a battle here," said Anos. "Luke Atravain, what has happened?


    "Who has attacked you and your companions here?"


    "A Blackguard called Lamech," said Rutger. "He set on us after the battle was joined."


    "Then we are here on a common purpose," said Gavkin. "We hunt him as well."


    "We''re not going to hunt him," said Luke, almost laughing. "He thrashed us as it is."


    "We''ve got to do something about this, Luke," said Edara.


    "She''s right," said Rutger. "That man is going to come back sooner or later. If not for revenge, then because Lord Kern is in his memory and has power."


    "Lord Kern?" asked Luke.


    "Yes," said Rutger. "He has six fingers on his right hand. I saw him."


    "The old revenge curse," said Bags, who had been healing injuries.


    "That''s nothing but a myth," said Korlac. "Anyone can kill someone''s Father; we''ve been doing it since we went on campaign.


    "And anyone can seek revenge. Most nobles go into battle at some point, and revenge is an ancient art form. So most of them eventually face a revenge plot, and having six fingers is memorable.


    "It''s an ancient tradition with a long and glorious history. One Antion has been trying to get away from." And he explained everything.


    "We must go after him at once," said Anos. "Lord Dunmoore has ordered him slain."


    "We can''t just leave this place, though," said Luke. "Look around you.


    "Look at what is happening here. Lamech didn''t kill any of us, and the villages are in chaos. They need men like you Gavkin, especially with Peter gone."


    "Luke is right," said Rutger. "My brother gave his life to protect the people of Antion.


    "Not so Dunmoore and Lamech can settle a personal score. You are Paladins." sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "We have orders," said Gavkin. "Lamech has committed deplorable crimes. He must be brought to judgment."


    "But is he doing anything now?" asked Bags. "We''ve got pressing things here. Last we heard, he was heading straight to fight Dunmoore, who might kill him anyway.


    "Besides, if I were Lamech, I''d set a trap for you down the road."


    "Dunmoore did not know the full extent of the situation down here," said Saul. "It may well be far worse than he realized. He will understand if you turn aside to help these people."


    "...They are right, Gavkin," said Anos. "Lamech has a head start. And he surely has minions out there. He shall surely lead us into a trap if we follow him now.


    "We delay our quest to deal with these satyrs and hogs."


    Gavkin paused. "...It pains me to submit to such humiliation.


    "But in the end, we must follow the will of Elranor."


    So Gavkin and Anos stayed their hand and continued to heal. And Peter was dead.


    Where had these undead satyrs come from?


    Somehow, Luke doubted he''d ever find out in this adventure. He was beginning to think he was a side character in his own story.

 Chapter Two: Breaking Point

    The meeting rooms of Lord Rius had seen a lot more traffic lately, though the maid service kept it all clean nonetheless.


    Lord Rius had done nothing but eat and sneer. He ate on plates of silver while Farwa arranged to ration food supplies for the populace.


    The gates opened, and Tanith was sent to meet a shipment. A very large shipment of grain, brought from elsewhere. They came in great lines of ox carts, and many of the commoners cheered as they did. Tanith met their gaze as they filed in and saw Anborn as the front.


    And Lilas behind.


    "Tanith!" said Anborn, running up to her with an enthusiastic smile.


    Tanith resisted the urge to stab him. You didn''t kill family unless they did something really bad. "Anborn, what are you doing here?"


    "Oh, um, I ran into William on the way home," said Anborn. "And he convinced me I should take some personal responsibility for my position. So I uh, went talking to a lot of merchants, and it turned out there was a lot of grain stored up.


    "Stuff which no one was using. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "So I convinced some people to bring some of the extra food to feed the hungry here. They were holding it."


    "It wasn''t from the granaries, was it?" asked Tanith, instantly concerned.


    "No," said Anborn. "See, a lot of the merchants had been stockpiling it. I guess to sell in case of a famine. But Lilas and Bishops Rundas and Joffrey compensated them. Now they are going to distribute them because I asked them to do it. Lilas is the Archdeacon, you know."


    Lilas was the Archdeacon?


    Which one of his actions had anything to do with religion?


    And there was Lilas and Joffrey with him. He was basking in the cheering because Anborn had run away from his path in the front. No one had notified Tanith, and this was a surprise. So either Lilas had gone behind Rius'' back, or Rius was using Anborn as a tool. He was easy to use.


    Someone was up to something, and Tanith was going to ruin it for them. This was too good to be true.


    "They''re really good people when you get to know them," said Anborn. "It''s amazing how quickly Lilas got it all together! I mean, everyone he talked to just-"


    "Lady Atravain has provided food aid to the people of Ascorn!" said Tanith. "Quickly notify Lady Farwa and the Ranger Aras. They shall distribute it in the name of Lord Rius."


    "Um, it is Lilas'' grain," said Anborn.


    "Grown on Lady Atravain''s land and distributed with her permission," said Tanith. "And it''s coming from a grainery in Antion, so I credit the noble of the land in question. Unless you have an objection, Lilas?"


    Lilas stared and opened in mouth in anger before stopping himself. Obviously, he''d planned to let Rius run this place into the ground. Then when he was deposed, he''d fit naturally in. So his hour of triumph had been ruined.


    Ordinarily, Tanith might give him the benefit of the doubt.


    But he treated his workers brutally, Tanith had spoken to some of them. And since he''d had lots of grain available from the start, William''s initial hopes were dashed. The shortage had been artificial, and Lilas had sought to take control using it.


    "None at all, of course," said Lilas, recovering. "So long as starvation is averted, it matters little who gets the credit."


    "Actually, it matters a great deal," said Tanith. "I will escort both of you to the House of Lord Rius once Farwa arrives." Then she turned to her men. "Get these people off the streets.


    "This isn''t a celebration, go. And get Lilas and Joffrey a cloak, so nobody forms a lynch mob."


    "I will enter the city in whatever way I-" began Joffrey.


    Tanith put a hand to her sword. "Go."


    Joffrey turned and fled out of the gates as fast as his legs could carry him. His toadies ran with him. Ham Hawkthorne stood in the crowd and quickly stalked after him, hand on his blade. What was he doing here?


    Well it didn''t matter, Joffrey was gone.


    That left only Lilas.


    Soon enough, Farwa did arrive, and Tanith passed things over to her. Then she took Anborn and Lilas through the streets after clearing the crowds. No profits would be made on the side of this serpent. Arriving at the door, Tanith found Rius speaking with many of his well-dressed friends. He had never looked fatter and more decadent than now that the streets were cleaned.


    Rius was exactly the same as he had been at the beginning of this mess. He''d run Ascorn into the ground and been saved by circumstances out of his control. So his bloated and disgraceful rule would live a little while longer.


    "You know," said Anborn to a nearby commoner. "Luke Atravain and a lot of nobles had a battle with satyrs at a village near here. Several of them died in battle, but they drove them off.


    "And they fought a Blackguard too."


    Murmurs of interest and awe came up, and soon Lilas'' messianic arrival was forgotten.


    "Tanith, why are you doing this," asked Anborn. "Lilas helped us. So did Joffrey, they put a lot of work into this. You can''t humiliate people like this."


    "What''s he going to do?" asked Tanith. "Raise an army from the people he abandoned and abused?"


    Here was where Rius took Lilas'' side.


    "Ah, Lilas, so you''ve brought the food we had stored up as prepared," said Rius, shaking his hand and smiling. Laughter came from the crowds, turning the thief''s triumph into humiliation.


    "You''ve been storing it?" asked Tanith.


    "Outside of the city in case of a situation such as this, of course," said Rius. Many of them chuckled at his expense, hoping to do the very same scheme on him.


    But Rius would never replace Lilas because he could be controlled.


    "How much in tax are you paying to Lady Atravain for this?" asked Anborn with a frown.


    "They are in neutral areas laid aside for merchants. They were purchased with her permission," said Rius. "I provide all the security, of course, and the grain is bought from her and stored."


    "Is there a particular reason you decided to enslave an entire people?" asked Tanith, feeling disgusted.


    "That was entirely the doing of the Kings, Lady Tanith," said Rius with an air of smugness. "They do not ask permission when they make decisions. Prince Bor and Gavin wanted us to provide storage, and I did."


    "Is that really something a Lord should say, Lord Rius?" asked Anborn.


    "Pretend I did not say it," said Rius, an edge in his tone. Anborn wilted, and this seemed to please Rius. "Anborn, Lilas, we shall dine together with our friends and then discuss matters."


    "Anborn, let me go with you," said Tanith.


    "With all due respect, Lady Telus, you were not invited," said Lilas.


    "Heel, boy," said Tanith. "If a meeting is made pertaining to my house, Lord Rius, I should be involved." No true noble would ever behave like this.


    "Anborn is there as a representative," said Rius. "And as Edmund Telus'' eldest son, he is far more qualified in negotiations. I gather you have a less sophisticated approach."


    Did the man seriously think Tanith would be defeated by public humiliation? Because she was in a city, she was out of her element. Well, she supposed Vanion would want her to try proper channels. "Anborn, a word?"


    "Are you detaining my guest?" asked Rius, now openly smug.


    Was this a noble, or merely a sack of meat?


    "Anborn, I need to speak to you now. This is very important," Anborn was the closest thing to a man among them. At least he was trying.


    "We can talk after the dinner," said Anborn.


    Oh, that absolute fool.


    Was Anborn asking permission from Rius? He should have learned better years ago. But Mother had coddled him, and he''d always dismissed Father as too serious.


    "Anborn, you need to consult with someone on this," said Tanith. "You cannot undertake negotiations without an advisor. Father may not know about these."


    "Why not let your older brother make his own decisions, Tanith," said Rius. "You owe him respect, as your elder, do you not? I have been lenient so far, but it could endanger relations if you insist on insulting me."


    It wasn''t Anborn''s fault, really.


    He''d started too late to try and do his job. So he''d never had a chance to learn as a child should. So now he was a child in a man''s body, with a man''s responsibilities. And he''d be judged for them as a man.


    "Anborn..." said Tanith. "Don''t sign or promise anything without consulting Father."


    "Okay, sure," said Anborn. But he wasn''t listening. He never listened to anything he did not want to hear.


    "Rius," said Tanith. "What happened to Reg Hawkthorne?"


    Rius halted at the sudden question. One he could not afford to not answer. "We are still awaiting a response from our messages."


    "Sent to the domain of House Hawkthorne?" asked Tanith.


    "Yes," said Rius. "Naturally."


    "Doesn''t House Hawkthorne have a trade empire, Tanith?" asked Anborn.


    The population laughed. Rius laughed, and the merchants joined in.


    Rius laughed because he thought Tanith was the one who did not know the answer. He could do no wrong, so he assumed the disgrace passed to her. He was never responsible. The nobles laughed because they dared not alienate Rius.


    He gave them food in their troughs like well-dressed pigs. The population laughed at Rius and the nobles in general because they were ridiculous.


    And it was Harlenor itself made the court jester.


    Tanith''s eyes focused then on Anborn, who had a nervous smile but was not laughing. As if he was trying to figure out the joke. Then she turned her gaze to Lilas, who was not laughing either. He was calculating, and she met his gaze in sheer hatred.


    There stood a new kind of noble.


    An aristocracy who stole as much money as possible and did nothing to earn it. An invisible hand robbed as many people as possible and gave nothing back. A race of spoiled man-children who thought handling money the ultimate deed. And all other manful deeds mere yardwork for their glory.


    Lilas, meanwhile, saw in her a mirror. A brutal savage who was the manifestation of everything he had hated. Everything he never had the courage to be. An irredeemable attack dog in possession only of base cunning. This man was no warrior, and he''d known he''d been no warrior. But where other men had tried to adapt to their society, he had tried to outmaneuver it.


    William would have felt sympathy for Lilas after understanding him.


    For her part, Tanith only hated him all the more. She had done what her country wanted. She''d fulfilled her duty and followed orders without question. This thing in front of her was unworthy of her attention.


    She turned away in disgust.


    She had a job to do. Payment was only put off.


    And Reg was either dead or imprisoned by Neral Dinis to be eaten by vampires.


    How did she deal with this? She''d already written up and sent reports to Duke Vanion by Amenos.


    Finding Kata on the docks, she was looking out to sea as the sun set in a bloody red. A wind of cold shot through them. Sokar was speaking with a number of his lieutenants.


    "Tanith?" asked Kata, looking back


    "Don''t make any deals," said Tanith. "And put everybody on guard. If you see Lilas, seize him at once. Throw him in a cell and keep him there.


    "Things are about to get bloody again."


    There was no other outcome.


    Kata nodded. "I understand." And she offered Tanith a stone. "Take this. It''ll prove you''re trusted to enter."


    Tanith nodded. "Thanks. You''re pretty good at this."


    "Don''t remind me," said Kata before hugging her. "Thanks, Tanith."


    Tanith felt her warmth against her and almost choked up for a moment. Then it was over as soon as it began. Turning, she walked toward the beached ship. Scaling up the steps, she opened the door and walked into the darkness. It had been well cleaned up, and there was straw all over the floor.


    "Lady Telus, you''re here," said Sokar, who must have gotten ahead.


    "Yes," said Tanith. "I''m here with Kata''s authorization."


    "Do you have the runestone?" asked Sokar.


    Tanith raised it up. "Yes. What does that rune mean anyway?"


    "''One who may enter,''" said Sokar. "We use them to identify people, and it corresponds to her clan." He paused. "Well, actually it can mean ''One who supplants.'' But that translation is part of an older dialect. Same words, different meaning."


    "Great," said Tanith. "So these are the prisoners."


    The prisoners had lost a bit of weight, or at least the fatter ones had. Those who had been thinner were much the same and looked livid, stalking back and forth. The fatter ones looked sullen, and their clothes were tainted by dirt. Though most had been given better ones. It was no more than they deserved.


    "Next time," said Tanith to them. "Behave as a Harlenorian ought."


    "Yes," said Sokar. "Kata commands that they be fed and kept as comfortable as is reasonable. We clean the cells regularly, though we''ve had several escape attempts. Some have tried to take their own lives, as well.


    "We''ve stopped all of them."


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "Why so much concern for your hated enemy, Sokar?" asked Tanith, not understanding him. "This cell is a paradise compared to what they did to you."


    "Don''t remind me," said Sokar. "But, she insists that we must not become our enemies. It''s William. Kata really admires him."


    "Don''t tell him that," said Tanith. "He does his best work when he''s bitter and angry.


    "...You''re the one who''s really in charge here, aren''t you?"


    "Basically, yes," said Sokar. "I figured it''d be better for everyone to think Kata was making all the decisions. That way, I''d have a free hand.


    "Very old Furbearer trick. Neral Dinis did it all the time in one way or another."


    "Can I talk to some of them," said Tanith.


    "I''m sorry, Tanith," said Sokar. "But no one meets with any of the prisoners. If they were to arrange an escape through a visitor, we would lose our bargaining power.


    "And I know you''ve been playing both sides. You''re looking after House Gabriel''s interests. Which means you could move against us for Rius."


    "Rius is weak," said Tanith with a sigh. "He''s lost control of his own operations and he''s too stupid to realize it. He even openly scoffs at the King."


    "Don''t I know it," said Sokar. "Kata tells me that virtually everyone is sick of him. Some have been very public about talking about how good Lilas is as an administrator. But I think they''ve been paid to do it.


    "The problem is that there isn''t anyone other than you."


    "You could claim Ascorn as weregild," said Tanith. "Kill Rius off and hand it to a Furbearer lieutenant."


    "I don''t want to run this place," said Sokar.


    "General Sokar?" said a voice.


    General?


    "What is it?" asked Sokar.


    "Tavish Kern is here with many armed men," said a Furbearer, clad in chain mail. "He''s at the gates of the smuggler''s cave."


    "Send word to Kata, only Kata," said Sokar. "Don''t tell anyone else about this without her orders. I''ll head down there and do what I can. Tanith, is this your doing?"


    "No," said Tanith. "Either he''s here to settle the score, or he''s switching sides."


    "Why would he do that?" asked Sokar. "And why should I care? We should kill him."


    "...Have you ever heard the story of Nendas the Wise?" asked Tanith suddenly. Furbearers often gave advice through stories, or so she had read.


    "What?" said Sokar. "No."


    "Nendas was one of the greatest swordsmen of Tarasif," said Tanith. "He was loyal to his uncle Munsuf, and to his King, and to his Goddess equally. But his uncle Munsuf was a worthless layabout. He delegated everything to his younger brother, Vandias.


    "Now, King Samrasa saw a chance to destroy the Hasafa Clan. And he incited jealousy in Munsuf and convinced him to swear Nendas to Samrasa''s service. Then, playing a fatherly role to Nendas, he arranged for Vandias'' murder. Samrasa tried to pretend like Vandias'' had been murdered by his own political enemies.


    "But Nendas was wise.


    "He knew his Uncle; he knew Samrasa wanted to use him. But he also knew that King Samrasa and his Uncle were too strong. So, Nendas played the role of the perfect, illiterate, stupid servant. He believed in King Samrasa, he stayed out of politics, and he defeated the enemies of Tarasif. And he waited for the chance to destroy each enemy with perfect moral superiority.


    "His Father''s murderer, Samrasa ordered him to kill his enemy Ralign, and he did. Munsuf was dragged down to hell when the gods could no longer abide him. And Samrasa, he allowed to live long to shred his reputation completely. Before killing them in one stroke, defending his Kingdom from his own King.


    "Now, once he finished his revenge, he married his childhood sweetheart. Then he became an invaluable asset to a benevolent King. And he lived happily ever after. Until the end of his days."


    Sokar nodded. "...Alright, we''ll play the servant.


    Sokar was smart.


    Tavish Kern they found leaning against a tree, spinning his knife with one finger. There was a ring at the base of the knife he''d slipped a finger through. Several other armed men were present with drawn swords, and Tanith stepped forward.


    "So you''re the attack dog, huh?" asked Tavish, blowing a bang of dark hair from his face. "Cuter than I thought."


    Tanith flushed, and her hands went to her swords. "Call me cute again, and I''ll snap your neck."


    "Has a lot of spirit, though," said Tavish.


    "Are you here to parley or just let your hair fly in the wind?" asked Sokar. "Though I don''t see why these rights should apply to you, Tavish.


    "You are a liar and an assassin. And honorless cur that brings curses down on your countrymen. What rights remain to you that you have not burned?"


    "I''d prefer to think of myself as an exceptional thief," said Tavish, with the air of one who has heard it all before. "Either way, I''m just the messenger. You and I have a common cause."


    "No, we really don''t," said Sokar.


    Tavish laughed. "Both of us hate the planters.


    "They are the only reason I ended up selling you people for slaves, and now they''ve backstabbed me."


    "Good," said Sokar. "You went into business with slavers, and you''re surprised it backfired? Father was right about you. And I took your part; we welcomed you into our home!"


    "Do you think my network only carries slaves?" asked Tavish. "And it didn''t take years; it took three months. I just pieced together all the operations, talked to the right people. All it took was running a couple of messages and getting the muscle.


    "I built this thing to bypass taxes. So when I say that what I did was nothing personal, you can believe it."


    "Nothing personal?!" said Sokar.


    "You were doomed anyway," said Tavish. "Someone would have done it eventually. I figured out the best way to exploit it, and you paid the price for your sins."


    "What sins?!" said Sokar.


    "Stupidity for a start," said Tavish calmly. "You were stupid enough to not be prepared for an invasion. And Harlenorians despise stupidity.


    "Your kind-hearted little village mocked me."


    "Kata had thought you''d changed," said Sokar.


    "Oh, you ignorant little slave!" said Tavish in a rage. "I''m a Harlenorian! I''ve built an Empire from the dispossessed and the needy and used their labor to serve my nation! They rely on me to keep business flowing, and I rely on my Father!


    "And I''m not going to sell all of them up the river because your Father was too stupid to make an alliance with House Kern! I gave you a lifeline, and you shut it down!


    "Nobody is going to stick their neck out for you if you don''t bring anything to the table. Now, do you want to hear my offer or not?"


    Silence.


    "Tell me your offer," said Sokar, expressionless.


    It was amazing how quickly Tavish changed his appearance. He went from enraged to suave in an instant.


    "Well, there''s a strange story behind that," said Tavish Kern. "See, I run into William Gabriel accidentally on purpose by the roadside, and he informs me that Lord Rius is back. He''s also said that I''m the guy everyone is using as a scapegoat."


    "Why would he work with you?" asked Sokar.


    "He made me aware of an opportunity," said Tavish. "I need to work with you to get Atravain off my back. You need me if you want to get your people back."


    "And what do you want me to do?" asked Sokar.


    "I just need you to keep this little cave open," said Tavish. "All my systems are tailored to run to it anyway. Do that, and I''ll free all the slaves throughout the plantations and bring them back here."


    "Why?" asked Sokar, surprised. "Why do you care?"


    "Because doing that will decrease Atravain''s bargaining power," said Tavish. "If she doesn''t have any workforce at all, she will have to give a better deal. On the other hand, if she keeps the slaves, she can stall until people out here have no choice.


    "I''m denying these people the chance to make a big show of their mercy. Atravain doesn''t get to play hero at my expense."


    "Funny, I could say something similar about you," said Sokar.


    "Do and think what you want," said Tavish with a shrug. "I don''t care. If this place stays open, I''ll be sending a lot of Furbearers and slaves through here. If it doesn''t, I''ll find some other place to send them. And people there might be willing to pay me. It''s your choice, Sokar."


    "What do you want for this favor?" asked Sokar. "Or is this goodwill?"


    "Call it balancing the books," said Tavish. "I owe you for backstabbing, so I''m giving you a lifeline. I''m doing it because you are now a threat, and I can get back at an enemy by paying you back. There''s no difference between the two. One gesture expects another.


    "If you want it to be a favor, put me in contact with Rius. He''s holding a shipment I need to verify."


    Tanith nodded. "...I could get in contact with Farwa and Kata. Hiding something like this from him would be acting in bad faith. But Rius is done. Lilas has probably already left the city by now, and Rius doesn''t get it."


    "Fine," said Tavish. "Then I''ll work directly with Farwa. I''ve had more out of this than I bargained for already. Good luck."


    Tavish turned and walked off. Tanith and Sokar moved back.


    "We''re done with Rius," said Tanith.


    "You''re done with Rius, Tanith; I can''t afford to pick a fight," said Sokar.


    "I don''t need you for this," said Tanith.


    Then she drew up an amulet she had at her neck. It was a hammer, a symbol of Kreshlak Kusher had given her. She''d carried it all through Khasmir, though she wasn''t sure why. Elranor was her god.


    Well, it didn''t matter anymore. Kusher would like what came next.


    Both of them would want the same thing here.


    So Tanith talked out of the former slaver compound, not bothering to put on her armor. Taking her swords, she walked straight to Lord Rius'' house and halted outside.


    "Lord Rius," said Tanith. "Is no longer Lord of Ascorn.


    "He has forfeit that privilege by his crimes against the King and the people! He has publically shown scorn for Harlenor and the Gods! He works with foreigners and insults and belittles loyal allies!


    "He has allowed the plague to spread through the streets. As of this moment, I declare Lord Rius under arrest!"


    Dead silence and Farwa rushed up, looking very beautiful and panicked. "Tanith, you''re deranged! You can''t make this kind of statement in front of a crowd. And you don''t have the authority-"


    "I don''t care if a crowd is present," said Tanith. "Rius is their enemy, as he is mine. And he is yours if you are really a Paladin.


    "We''ve been trying to piece this place together. And Rius has done nothing but undercut us!


    "Not once has he gone on a ship and attacked the enemies of Harlenor! Not once has he aided in the recruitment. All he''s done is meet with merchants, plotting how to feast on one corpse or another. He and every other spoiled, entitled brat who dares to call themselves a noble!


    "This is unworthy of nobility. Fighting men are thrown onto the streets and forced to serve common criminals. The priests of the temples cared nothing for their flock. They are delegating to mercenaries. A common, fat imbecile like Reg Hawkthorne took Antion''s most important port. And yet, the nobility has done nothing.


    "This is a disgrace!"


    "Tanith, stop this!" said Kata coming.


    None of the people were defending him, and murmurs of agreement could be heard.


    "Stop what?!" roared Tanith. "The plague that has spread to Haldren by Rius'' merchant friends while he refuses to honor his pledge to you? The bandits who stalk the roadways bearing seals of royal approval?!


    "The spread of foreign gods in blatant violation of the God Triumvirate?"


    "You''re wearing a symbol of Kreshlak at your neck," said Farwa.


    Tanith looked down and saw it glowing. "What of it? A symbol of Coinfurth is all around us!" said Tanith. "Symbols of Zigildrazia dance as prostitutes in every bar! It''s too late to stop any of it!" And she saw Rius with Suran at his side and many armed men. It was Rius'' personal guard. "And it''s all because of you, you selfish, self-serving bastard!"


    Dead silence.


    "Who rules here?" asked Rius with a smile. "Tanith Telus? Or Lord Rius?"


    Rius seemed disappointed when no one said anything.


    "No one!" said Tanith in return. "Satyrs are stalking the roadways and mobilizing near the Black Mountain! Criminals warrant personal meetings with royalty! And loyal servants are left on the street to die! Great warriors are scorned in favor of merchants who play tyrant to better men than them!"


    "You have no authority here, Tanith," said Farwa. "Rius'' authority comes from King Andoa."


    "King Andoa would agree with me," said Tanith, the laughter in her head fading. "King Andoa loves his people! Apparently, he is the only one. Tell me, Farwa, has Lord Rius told you about his arrangement with Baron Hawkthorne?


    "The one involving Reg."


    "There was no such arrangement," said Suran suddenly. "I was at the Castle of Lady Atravain, where we discussed our response. Baron Hawkthorne had received no such arrangement and did not intend to ask for them. He deemed it impossible.


    "I remember William tried to convince Hawkthorne to soften his viewpoint. But he said that Reg had already been sent to Neral Dinis to end the feud." He looked to Rius, who cringed. "Lord Rius, you must forgive her. She is manic, overworked from strain; I have seen many such men in this state of late.


    "Lord Rius." The laughter continued. Laughter from all around while the amulet blazed.


    Dead silence.


    "You lying bastard," said Farwa. "You sent a captive noble into the hands of a vampire!"


    "He was a disgrace to his rank!" said Rius.


    "So are you," said Farwa hotly. "You have now all but paid tribute to one of the darkest powers in this world. I cannot defend this, not on top of everything the Lady Telus has cited."


    "It does not matter what you defend," said Rius. "My power derives from the King and is absolute. You have no authority! You serve at my beck and call, and I order you out of my city at once!"


    No. Not this time.


    "Vendetta," said Tanith, raising a hand to point. "I invoke the right of vendetta.


    "Lord Rius, you have betrayed your people to foreign influences. You have given the enemies of Harlenor free reign. You used your Master as a shield to pursue personal profit. You have left your post on the battlefield vacant.


    "But worst of all, you have refused to allow me to attend meetings that concern my house. Meetings with merchants from Haldren. Even as you cite the danger of the spreading the plague to cheat my friends, Kata and Sokar, of their rightful due.


    "I challenge you to single combat."


    "Tanith," said Suran. "The laws of Antion-"


    "No longer exist," said Tanith. "This man has destroyed them. Him and those like him."


    "By whose authority?" asked Rius with a smirk.


    "The people are my authority," said Tanith.


    Absolute silence.


    "The people?!" said Rius, staring at them.


    "Are they not more than empty vessels for your profit!" said Tanith. "You are a coward!"


    "This is absurd," said Rius. Then he turned to the armored men of his personal guard. "I am the Lord of this place. Kill her."


    "You cannot murder nobility!" said Farwa.


    Men with spears moved forward en mass, and Farwa went for her blade. But Tanith raised a hand for her to stop. On came the spears, and then Tanith stepped aside, grabbed his spear under one armpit, and threw them to one side. Then, smashing one of the armored men aside, she moved aside from another. Then she caught the man through the visor. The blade pierced right through, and she pulled the spear from the next.


    Turning, she stabbed it through the two who had fallen. Then she ducked under a stab and drew a dagger from her opponent''s belt. Jabbing it through her enemy''s visor, she watched blood pour out. Spinning away, she feigned to grasp her swords as they attacked her.


    Kicking off the wall, she leaped over them. Then she snapped the neck of one and slashed another with his own dagger. Grabbing a corpse before it fell, she hurled it at another enemy, who fell back with a crunch and lay still. One man came at her with a sword, but Tanith moved aside from him, backing away. Finally, he struck, but Tanith stepped aside, and his sword was broken on the wall. Pulling it out, she jammed the blade into his visor and let him fall. Two men were hanging back, and one hurled his spear. Catching it in midair, Tanith turned around and hurled it back. It went between the gap in his helmet as the last one stared in horror.


    Throwing down his sword, he ran away, screaming at the top of his lungs. Tanith got him in the back with a dagger.


    "That''s for cowardice," said Tanith. And she turned to Rius, who tried to flee but found the crowd before him. "Face me, Rius."


    "Champion!" said Rius. "I need a champion!"


    The people laughed and jeered at him, and some threw things.


    Suran stepped forward. "I will face her in the name of the King."


    "Stand down, Suran," said Farwa. "That is an order."


    "Lady Farwa," said Suran. "Someone must stand for Lord Rius in this. This action is illegal. I cannot allow a Lord of Ascorn to be killed."


    Suran drew his swords.


    Now, this was what Tanith had been waiting for. Her blades were out in an instant, and they squared off.


    "You would face her in armor," said Farwa. "She without? I will not-"


    Tanith sprang forward toward Suran, relishing the challenge, and they dueled. They fought back and forth and around, swords glinting as they moved in a blur. Suran proved the more methodical fighter, but Tanith''s mania was on her. Fighting faster and faster, she attacked, and he matched her.


    He was good.


    Very good.


    Tanith drove him back, but he maneuvered around, and she realized she''d found an equal at last. Raynald had always been too far above her, and William had always been a bit behind. Now, however, she fought with mania and relish, as Suran appreciated the battle in turn.


    He was amazing.


    By a long shot, his skill with a blade was like nothing she''d seen. Yet, no one said a word as the crowd stared at the duel between them.


    "You missed your calling, Suran," said Tanith. "You should have been a berserker of Kreshlak. You could have gone far."


    "My calling is here," said Suran. "Serving the laws of Antion." And passing one another, Tanith felt a wound open on her arm. Turning, her blade rang against Suran''s arm, and he fell to one knee. Another blow caught him on the helm, but he got her across the leg. A slight, faint wound, but Tanith smiled.


    This was a new experience for both of them.


    And then Suran lunged forward and shoved her aside. "Lord Rius-"


    A crossbow bolt passed over his shoulder and bounced off the cobblestones. "Get out of my way, Suran! I''m going to finish this hound!"


    "The rules of single combat-" began Suran.


    "Do not apply!" said Rius. "I am above the law! My power over this city is absolute! I cannot be prosecuted, questioned, or countermanded in any way! No god or King or lawman has the right to put me on trial!


    "Not a trial by arms or a trial by my peers! You dare to speak to me, you ill-born brat! You are my property!"


    "Lord Rius," said Suran. "No one is above the law. Especially the nobility-"


    Without a word, Rius shot him through the heart. Then, kicking him down, he drew his own sword and moved toward Tanith, who was getting up. "You will not take my power from me!"


    And brought the sword down. But Tanith lunged up and caught his hands, turning the sword in midair and stabbing it into the ground. And for the first time, she thought she might have gone a little far. "Lord Rius, calm yourself.


    "You are no match for a trained fighter-"


    Rius spat in her face and drew a dagger to plunge it at her heart. Tanith knocked the blade, but he drew it out and slashed at her throat. Tanith stepped back and raised one of her swords, though her blood was flowing copiously.


    Looking out at the bodies of the men she had killed, she wondered if Lord Rius had cared about them. What of it? Tanith had killed many men, most of them Calishan. And these men were Rius'' personal guard. They were as much responsible for this as he was, yet they were still Harlenorian.


    How had it come to this?


    "Ill bred bitch! Breeding mongrel of the uncouth Haldrenians!" said Rius. "Your violent and useless heritage is nothing to me!"


    Throwing aside her weapon, Tanith knew she would not need it. "Stand down, Rius. You only disgrace yourself."


    It was all too late now.


    However, as Rius came forward, Sokar leaped before him and grabbed the knife. He turned the knife around. Rius'' gaze became terrified, screaming and howling. Little by little, Sokar turned the blade to him, and Tanith almost raised a hand to stop him.


    No.


    This was Sokar''s choice and moment. If ever there would be an occasion to kill nobility, now was it.


    The blade sank deep, and Rius howled screaming and blubbing like the immature child he was, as Sokar pressed him to the dirt. Sokar forced him down, pressing him low as Rius'' breathed his last in terror. Tanith found herself sick, even as Farwa finished healing Suran and did the same to her.


    The crowd went wild. Surging forward, they grabbed Rius'' corpses and began to rip it apart with glee as though devils grasping his soul. A similar scene was likely playing out in hell.


    "I have killed Harlenorians," said Tanith to herself as cheers echoed from the crowds.


    "I have killed Harlenorians," said Tanith as Farwa healed Suran and then her.


    "I have killed Harlenorians," said Tanith as drinks were handed out.


    Rius had deserved it; she was defending herself from his men. They had attacked her many at a time, and then he''d cheated in the duel. Why did she care?


    Did she feel sorry for Rius?


    No.


    Soon Tanith found herself nursing a drink. Why could not enjoy this as others? So she wondered as she drank, thinking to herself.


    "Because we''re not any better than him in the end," said Suran, looking depressed.


    "No, we are better than him," said Tanith. "It''s an objective fact. We have tried to do something about all this. Rius never did."


    Suran paused. "So why?"


    "I think I''m at peace," realized Tanith. "For the first time in my life, I feel... good."


    "Are you going to stop killing people?" asked Farwa.


    "It''s my job," said Tanith. "And really, it''s what I''m good at and what I enjoy. I guess I''ll try to become more selective in my violence. I''ve got time, maybe get married to William or something."


    "It''s the logical match," said Farwa. "Judging from the celebrations, the people of this town were as frustrated with him as you. I planned to write a very negative report to Lord Dunmoore and King Andoa.


    "Some sort of action would have been taken. King Andoa has stripped men of their titles before. Oh, Lilas and Anborn both departed about an hour ago. The meeting was brief indeed."


    "So what happens now?" asked Tanith.


    "Rius had no children," said Farwa. "And he spent almost no time with women. Ascorn will have to be awarded to someone who distinguished themselves."


    "No hard feelings then?" asked Tanith.


    "A few," said Farwa. "But there has been a rumor that his grace King Andoa is soft. The execution of Rius should quell those rumors."


    At that moment, Imogen appeared. "Hey, it''s me. Imogen.


    "Suran, how''d you like to work for the High Priest."


    That was over quick.

 Chapter Three: Chivalric Crossroads

    A red sun rose over the sky that morning as the wind howled.


    Jehair watched it rise, her braids flying around her as the window howled, leather looking very good on her as she polished her scythe. Frowning, she turned to William. A robin landed on her shoulder and was chirping in her ear, and her expression went mournful. "The birds tell me of battles along the border and in Ascorn. Nobles have been slain."


    "Nobles?" asked William. "Which ones?"


    "Birds can''t say that much," said Jehair. "They don''t see nearly well enough.


    "But they spear of growing darkness. Powers of evil are rising."


    It was a crossroads of sorts to symbolize one thing or another.


    William wondered if the days would wear on like this much longer, or if they would come to a pleasant end. Jehair was beautiful, at least, and he had felt her gaze on him once or twice.


    "Are you certain this chimera is coming, William?" asked Jehair after a moment.


    "Yes, I''m quite certain," said William, smiling at the idea that Massacre belonged to him in any way. "I don''t want to get too far ahead of her, she knows my music well."


    "It is fine music indeed," said Jehair. "Did Rusara teach you?"


    "Yes, actually," said William. "It was one of the things she instructed me in, as well as several of the lesser spells."


    "Ah, you must be one of her favorites then," said Jehair, smiling. "Music she teaches to many, but spells are reserved for those who have her favor."


    "You speak as though she were a god," noted William.


    "Well, she has a level of power comparable to some deities," said Jehair. "Not in the personal sense, but she has friends everywhere."


    "Mighty is not a word I should call him, though I suppose it fits," said William.


    "And what would you call him?" asked Jehair.


    "Wise, reasonable, cunning, powerful perhaps," said William.


    "Scheming," said Felix suddenly.


    "Scheming?" asked William, looking back.


    "Schemes are not necessarily a bad thing, William," said Felix. "We''re enacting schemes right now. Elranor as well."


    "I suppose he does," said William. "Elranor does not usually make open displays of power. I''ve only ever seen one when he killed Laughing Wraith."


    "It must have been very personal for him," said Jehair.


    "What is personal for you, Jehair?" asked William.


    "I believe the universe has a way of changing to suit your nature," said Jehair. "When you invite a thing into yourself, it naturally attracts things like it. If you perform good deeds, they will be drawn to you. If you perform acts of cruelty, they are naturally drawn to you as well."


    "I believe in entering the darkness to kill it," said William.


    "Well, for my part," said Jehair. "I prefer the part of the well-intentioned bystander."


    "Do you hate what I stand for, Jehair?" asked William.


    "In a word, yes," said Jehair. "You certainly fight for what is right, but you hold to absolutes even as you do so. You may work to amend problems that happen as a result of the human class system. But you seem zealously devoted to defending it.


    "What is your plan?"


    "Force the abusive factions of Antion into a stalemate," said William, thinking about it. "At the same time, encourage action to chip away at the foundation of their power.


    "Which would force our enemies to try and redeem themselves."


    "What makes you think Atravain won''t just wipe out Tavish''s people?" asked Jehair. "Their power is not in military means."


    "Felix, if you would?" asked William.


    "The Paladin Order is focused on the plague, and it will take some time to get rid of the Healer''s Guild," said Felix. "Tavish is sure to know what they are doing long before they even begin to muster. Armies are obvious. And William judges Luke to be a good person.


    "As for Tavish, he''ll know he can''t fight them, so he''ll want to get his money out and go."


    "What if he decides to kill the slaves?" asked Jehair.


    "It would be a stupid move," said Felix. "Tavish is not stupid. He can''t strike at Atravain from any direction save the moral high ground."


    Elranor had been setting things up very well lately.


    "What is Kafka''s connection to any of this?" asked William.


    Jehair smiled.


    "You know your relationship with Tanith?" asked Jehair. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What of it?" asked William.


    "Would you be able to keep her in line if she was the highest-ranking person in your group?" asked Jehair.


    William thought about that. "I might. It would depend on the nature of the situation. Tanith respects tradition, and I might be to channel her. She also is loyal to Harlenor.


    "I don''t think she''d do the kind of bloodletting you describe among Harlenorians. She loves her country."


    Jehair seemed irritated by the answer. "Why are you so dead set on not avenging those atrocities?"


    "It isn''t my place to seek vengeance," said William. "And it goes against the basic principles of House Gabriel.


    "Systems work at their best when every person in the system has a stake. If everyone has a reason for the system to continue, you won''t have much in the way of rebellions. That is the guiding principle behind House Gabriel''s rule.


    "And it has worked enormously well. So powerful that several nations spanning conspiracies joined forces to take us out. And we''ve wiped them out without even knowing they were there.


    "Slavery is precisely the antithesis of this philosophy.


    "A household slave might have an incentive for the household to function. They are seen by their master and can be rewarded. But the slaves being worked to death in the fields have no incentive. They have every incentive to rebel and kill their master, and no amount of preaching will get past that.


    "As a result, any nation that uses a lot of slaves must spend vast amounts of resources ensuring they don''t rebel. In the end, you might make a short-term profit, but you''ll only destroy yourself. Just look at how much trouble Atravain''s actions have cost her.


    "We don''t need to kill slavery, merely contain it until it eats itself alive.


    "Also, it would be a stupid move."


    Jehair looked at him for a moment and finally laughed in a slightly bitter fashion. "I knew you were cleverer than you led on to be, William. I wonder why it was you were chosen as a Paladin and not some other career."


    "Being a Paladin does not mean being a fool," said William.


    "What about the Islands of Power?" asked Felix suddenly. "No collapse has happened there."


    William remembered all he had read of those places. By all accounts, the sugar plantations were very profitable. Father had talked to many and focused on honey instead of sugar, but it distressed him what he knew of them. How best to account forth their horrors?


    "Those colonies are isolated areas that need constant resources from Sorn," said William. "And they aren''t really colonies at all, more military outposts which oversee harvests. Those outposts operate in secluded areas that cannot be accessed save by sea or air. When transplanted to Harlenor, the results can be seen all around us.


    "Once it becomes clear how unworkable slavery is, the institution will be abandoned. All you need do is convince enough people to stop buying the luxuries they make; they would fail very quickly."


    "Easier said than done, child," said Jehair. "I have heard of Vanion''s efforts in that regard. It made him an enemy of many Sornian merchants. Yet how do you know they won''t simply lighten to the load as you have?"


    William felt like he was being interrogated and he wondered how to respond.


    "It''s a slippery slope," said William. "Once you admit that the best way to motivate a worker is to pay him, him being a slave is not an asset. The further you go down that path, the more you realize you have to set them free."


    Jehair laughed, and it was a nice laugh.


    "What''s funny?" asked William.


    "You''re an optimist," said Jehair. "What do you intend to do for the ones that become attached to slavery? Who likes having power over their inferiors and fighting tooth and nail to protect the system?"


    "Crush them," said William. "Discipline is an important quality of making a good person. And pain is a form of discipline."


    "Are you sure of that?" asked Jehair, raising an eyebrow.


    "You astonish me," laughed Jehair loudly with a tinge of self-hatred. "To make a callous disregard for life a virtue is an achievement only a serpent could make.


    "I have not laughed in a long time."


    "Thank you," said William. "I am pleased to entertain a Lady. Do you know my mentor, Raynald?"


    "Yes," said Jehair. "I would consider him the most dangerous man in Harlenor. I am glad Rusara is able to restrain him a bit. Before he met her and Vanion he was... destructive. Now he is channeled toward more productive ends."


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "Raynald is a great man," said William, not sure he liked her answer. "He defeated the demons in Khasmir and taught me everything I know of swordplay. Though Mother taught me to wield my shield and Maria tried to teach me to use a bow.


    "And he is the greatest swordsman who ever lived."


    Jehair smiled and there was real warmth.


    Then Massacre loped down the path, looking very pleased with herself. On her back was Grace, clad in a more practical white set of pants and a red cloak. As she approached, she landed, her ample breasts bouncing with the movement as her hair flowed. She smiled brightly as she saw them.


    "William! I''ve got bad news!" said Grace.


    "What is it?" asked William. "Why did Massacre let you bear her?"


    Grace pet Massacre affectionately. "I have good contact with woodland creatures." She halted. "Um, Lord Rius is dead."


    "What?" asked William. "How?"


    "There was a rebellion," said Grace. "Apparently, Tanith was deliberately excluded from important meetings with people from Haldren. Then Rius broke his word to the Furbearers and duped Anborn into talking to him alone.


    "Tanith challenged Rius to single combat. She killed his guards without armor or weapon, and Suran fought as his champion. But then Rius went after Tanith with a crossbow. Once he did that, Sokar, the Furbearer''s leader, executed him for crimes against the people."


    "Why?" asked William. "Rius seemed to understand his own city well enough. So why would he make that kind of move against House Telus unless...


    "He was planning to turn on them." He took a deep breathe. "Don''t panic. King Gavin would not desire war. There is a chance to avert this.


    "Still, at this point, we can do nothing. Everything will be resolved long before we get back. Our course now heads to Brisgald, the realm of my family. I''m not going to be around when this situation becomes a full-civil war.


    "But I can talk with my uncle, Arthur. We''ll take the King''s road as far as we can. We need haste here."


    At that moment, around the corner came Janice, a gray cloak flowing behind her. "William, your life is in danger."


    "Janice?" asked William.


    Janice halted. "You can''t take this way. Lamech is waiting up ahead to ambush any Paladins or Knights who go by. He has already killed three and hung their shields from the trees. As well as the weapons of their entourage."


    "What?!" said William.


    "He has set out a challenge on the road and made his whereabouts known in the lands around," said Janicem brushing a strand of white hair from her face. "He is trying to lure you, or Lord Dunmoore out. Several Paladins have set out to kill him and tasted death."


    William drew his sword. "Then I''ll deal with him myself."


    "You''re a fool then," said Janice. "Lamech fights like a god; he recently fought it out with six knights at once."


    "I''m a Paladin," said William. "Playing the part is part of the job. Come, let''s see to this."


    "I say we gang up on him and hack him to pieces," said Felix.


    "I agree with your servant," said Janice, then. She and Grace shared a look and looked over one another for a moment too long. Then they continued.


    "We''ll deal with that when the time comes," said William.


    William walked down the road, paying heed to an abandoned farmhouse that had been burned. The crops, once growing high, had been hewed to worthlessness. And whoever lived there had fled or died.


    And at last, they came to the tree. Sure enough, the shields were hanging from it, and the weapons planted around it like a dark shring.


    And there was the dark shield, sable and unblazoned on the branch. And standing beneath the tree was Jaina, sitting in the shade and resting, a blue hook pulled over her head. Her legs were crossed, and her bosom rose and fell lightly as she read a book. Looking up, her blue eyes widened. "William, wait, it''s a trap!"


    "Jaina, you''re here too?" asked William, noticing Janice and Grace''s eyes lingered on her.


    "Yes, Lamech is up that way," said Jaina. "He''s hung the shields of three knights and six others."


    "Who were they?" asked William.


    "Erm..." Jaina haltered. "Members of the Paladin Order who had taken liberties with their duties while in my Mother''s lands. As well as several knights who have been abusing the population especially badly.


    "Dunmoore and he are both on Prince Bor''s council, but there has been some kind of falling out. So now Lamech is luring men out to kill them."


    "You''ve been orchestrating the assassination of your political rivals again," said Grace with a sigh. This was not the first time this had happened?


    "No," said Jaina defensively. "Well, yes, but none of them are from this world. Lamech has deliberately targeted Paladins from Kadan. You see, Dunmoore uses them as enforcers.


    "He brings them over from Bretus. Things are more ruthless there and use them to handle the nobility''s problems. They have no personal connections out here, so he can rely on them. Paladins in Bretus tend to have to flee into exile a lot, so they owe him everything."


    William raised an eyebrow. "And you have allowed this?"


    "Lamech was going to do it either way," said Jaina. "I gave him the means to do it in a way that spared my people. Anyone who comes from my camp, I warn off.


    "Now that Rundas has been shut out, Dunmoore basically runs the church. If his influence isn''t checked, he''ll run the heartlands. And none of them have to accept the challenge."


    "You''ve been killing Paladins," said William, shocked.


    "The Paladin Order is due a reckoning, William," said Janice. "And Farwa just tried to take over Ascorn.


    "Do you know that one demanded payment after taking out the Healers Guild. Hundreds of gold coins in exchange for doing his job. Another completely abandoned his responsibilities as a healer because it was boring. All of these people were refusing to do their work, so I gave them new work. I sent them here to kill Lamech.


    "Just as Jaina sent Lamech here to kill them. It''s just that Lamech keeps winning. It''s not my fault if they can''t do the job they insist on taking."


    "You have been killing Paladins," said William.


    "You have to understand," said Grace. "Dunmoore is a terrible person.


    "Yes, I know he seems very noble and reasonable. But the truth is that he''s part of crime syndicate. His job is to be the face of the organization, so nobody rocks the boat. The reason all these Paladins are coming out here is that Dunmoore put a hit out on Lamech."


    "Dunmoore didn''t support taking out the Healer''s Guild because it was evil," said Janice. "He did it because it was already losing. By putting his seal on the operation, he can take control here."


    "I suspect that Dunmoore fell from grace a long time ago," said Jaina. "It''s the only explanation for why things have gotten this out of hand. Prince Bor gave him that position so he''d keep control of the Guild while we phased it out.


    "Now, look what has happened."


    William halted and tried to find the words. "I would not presume to pass judgment in this situation. So I''m just going to do what I have to." And he moved toward the tree.


    "No!" said Grace, stepping in front of him with arms out in a cross, her hair flowing behind. "Just pass the shield by; he can''t go after you unless you hit it.


    "It''s the rules." Her blue eyes were wide with concern, and he realized she was afraid for him. They all were.


    But why?


    William walked up to the shield and saw a hammer hanging by it. "Standards for knights in seem to have dropped greatly. So, they will have to be raised again."


    "They never really existed," said Felix.


    "They did once. For a brief and fair time, long ago," said Jehair sadly. "It won''t come again, though."


    "Don''t be absurd," said William. "A man of chivalry is perfectly attainable. You merely need discipline tand compassion." Granted, he had no personal experience, but there were plenty of indications.


    "''Strike this shield, and things will go ill,''" read William. Then he thought about what he would do if he were a Blackguard. "Felix, hand me a rock."


    Felix picked one up and tossed it to him, and William stepped back. Then, distancing himself, he threw the rock. It hurtled through the air and banged off the shield. There was a flaring of magic, and nothing happened.


    All of a sudden, a darkness fell over the sun, and William saw, walking toward him, a foul fiend. Lamech, he might have been called, but this was not he. His armor had become the form of a demon, and his eyes were now flaming with yellow. His skin was almost a shadow. In one hand was gripped his great sword so that he towered over others. At his side was a quiver full of pears.


    For a moment, William considered making a run for it. Then, considering that he could not abandon those here, he resolved to stand his ground. Laughter came from Lamech as he neared, and William drew his sword.


    "So, you saw the spell," said Lamech. "You are more intelligent than I thought."


    "Spell," said Jaina. "But...


    "But how? I checked both sides! I saw this shield painted! I know there is no magic on it! All of them had a fair fight!"


    "And then I swapped it with a perfect replica I had put together in advance," said Lamech. "Sable and unblazoned, as is my custom. And no man may tell me my custom.


    "Wouldn''t you agree, Paladin?"


    William stood his ground. "That custom will be amended."


    "You defend it with your every breath," said Lamech.


    "Throw me a spear if you are not too great a coward to face me fairly," said William.


    "As you wish," said Lamech. "You are the challenger. To you went the first blow!"


    Then, snatching up a spear, it burst into flame in his hand, and he cast it at William. Raising his shield, William felt the impact as the spear landed. It pierced through over his arm. And another was thrown soon as well. This one William moved aside from as he drew his sword, and a spear lodged in the sand.


    "Lamech," said William. "You stand on a highway of King, patrolled by the righteous! Even I fall, another will slay you in my place!" But, though William would admit, he was enjoying it.


    "Perfect," said Lamech.


    Then he laughed and hurled another spear, and it shot toward William in new flame. He ducked, but it glanced off his helm, and the strength of it stunned him. The helmet became steadily hotter, and it pained him badly. Falling back, William pulled off the helm and saw another spear coming at him.


    Raising the shield, the spear went through it again. This time, it grazed his hand; though it did not pierce the armor, its force hurt. Throwing aside his shield, he aimed for Lamech''s shield. Then William knocked aside a spear and then moved toward Lamech. Yet Lamech stabbed down at his foot, and when he moved aside, he pulled the spear through the earth. The force of it nearly knocked William off his feet.


    Falling down, William landed and saw Lamech raising his sword for the kill. Rolling aside, William rose up and grabbed Lamech by the belt. Then, pulling himself up, he smashed Lamech with his blade across the shoulder. His enemy stumbled back. A cheer came from the three maidens, but now Lamech became angry.


    He attacked aggressively, and William, without a shield, had to meet him in pure strength. And Lamech was the stronger. His power was immense. Back he was forced, and their duel waged, striking the other many times. Yet neither could gain the advantage.


    "You are formidable, I''ll admit," said Lamech. "A suitable starting point. Once I have finished you, I''ll have no need to remain in this place. I''ve gotten what I came for."


    "Oh, have you?" asked William, circling around toward the unblazoned shield. "You can''t even defeat your opponents fairly."


    "Only a fool gives up an advantage when it is available," said Lamech. And he rained a blow that William halted with the flat of his blade. It nearly took him off his feet, and dust was thrown up by it. "This was no duel; it was a hunt. The idiots accepted the surface appearance. They walked to their death by striking the shield. I should think you would appreciate that."


    "Do not confuse an intelligent man with a monster," said William, dodging another blow. Lamech stepped away with lightning speed and struck back. It nearly took off William''s head.


    "As you like it, fool," said Lamech. "Walking into a trap to remove a threat to your own kind is not good survival tactics." Then with a laugh, he attacked head-on, striking with vicious strikes. William yielded ground, seeing the tree behind him. Backing toward it, he parried and blocked until he was very near.


    Too fast and he''d hit it, too slow and Lamech would cut him to pierced.


    William backed away, then sprang aside like lightning as Lamech struck hard. "How do you explain yourself then!"


    Lamech struck his own shield. The ringing of it resounded through the trees and the fields and across the Black Mountain. And the noise was brought back by a gust of wind. Screaming in agony, Lamech reeled back. He was more hurt by his own nature than William had ever been by the Mirror of Laevian. And falling to the ground, his sword fell from his hand.


    "It wasn''t that strong before," said Jaina, shifting her hips as she moved forward. Was she trying to attract his gaze?


    "The spell was unleashed when I hit it with the stone," said William. "Then again, when I hit it with my shield. But it had nothing to go into. So he got a triple dose.


    "One for every Paladin he tried to murder. A wicked man in his own trap. See to it he lives, Jaina, and keep him guarded."


    "Let''s have his head and be done with it," said Janice, stretching her shoulders. She did it in a way that sent her breasts bouncing, almost by intention. Why was William noticing these things more? "He''s outlived his usefulness, and he''d do the same to us."


    "You can''t do that, Janice. He was working for you," said Grace, moving very near Janice with swaying hips. Then she looked to William as though for approval. "That makes him our responsibility. And the duels were fair, for the most part, and he''s been paid out for his cheating. We should heal him, give him back his sword and escort him out of here."


    "A punishment for the nobility," said Jaina.


    "Why should the commoners be the only ones to suffer?" asked Janice.


    "No," said William, sheathing his sword. "I want Lamech taken to the most secure dungeons you can find. He is to be interrogated, given no special treatment. He should be given to the Paladin Order.


    "Whatever use he had to us was done out of a desire to enact his dark impulses and designs. He cannot be allowed to remain free. And should not work with this man again lightly."


    "Well, it was a very good fight if it''s any consolation," said Jaina, moving near and almost brushing him.


    "And let the shields be given to Lord Dunmoore, that they might be given a place of due honor," said William. "And tell him what part you had in this.


    "We shall keep no secrets in this matter." Then he looked to Grace, who was unsteady. "We need someone to take him to. He''ll wake up soon."


    "I think there is a meeting of clergy down the road," said Janice. "I was going to meet him before I was turned back by Lamech."


    "What are you, mad?" said Janice, leaning on her staff. "Rundas will let him go and ask for a favor later."


    "Enough," said William. "We will take him to Dunmoore and tell him of the shields. You may use this to patch up this conflict. We can''t afford to let this escalate."


    Jaina sighed. "As you wish. I suppose the message has been sent."


    "You''re pleasant to talk with," said Grace.


    "Is that sarcasm," said William.


    "Not at all," said Grace.


    And on they walked. And William had to wonder at these threes fixation on him.

 Chapter Four: The State of the Church

    They soon came to an area of many flat lowlands and prosperous farming villages. Fewer slaves had been used out here, and the land was green and fertile. Now and then, they''d see ox carts carrying goods under guard by armed mercenaries. The road had many toll booths on it, the price paid for it being paved. Every so often, they''d see a shrine or a great monastery.


    The hunger did not seem nearly too bad here, nor did the diseases. This domain was ruled by the Lord Karkan Caskav, a cousin of Father''s old nemesis, Borinius. William was glad to have this company with him. Since Borinius'' disgrace, Caskav had been under the authority of Atravain. William was not keen on meeting the man.


    Meanwhile, Jaina, Janice, and Grace were eating at a different campfire. The three seemed to be speaking of some internal matter between them quite closely. Lamech was unconscious and bound to a rope to keep him asleep. His armor had been taken and thrown aside on the road, and his sword was in William''s keeping.


    It was heavy on his back, and the hilt hurt the hand to keep. None of the ladies had wanted to touch it. So they''d thrown it away.


    Often the three ladies, would look over at them, either with wary glances or smiles. Massacre kept all of them well supplied with rabbits to eat, and Jehair taught them all to forage for food.


    Grace was particularly interested in all this.


    "How have none of them been married off by now?" muttered Felix in irritation.


    "Atravain is very powerful," noted William. "And most of the other houses'' sons are already married. Perhaps some soldier promoted to replace Rius could marry Janice.


    "Prince Aris of Estal is not yet wed. And there is likely other Estalian nobility."


    "The men of Estal are regarded as somewhat quint in such circles," said Jehair. "And only Prince Aris would be considered as great as Atravain. I suppose you might be a contender as well."


    William noticed their glances turning his way, then toward the nearby town. He wondered if they were discussing the subject. It was important to their future; women were expected to be married. Though he supposed the priesthood was an option.


    "Where do we go from Brisgald?" asked William of Jehair over a meal.


    "Well, that depends on what kind of trip you want to make," said Jehair. "We''re bound for Brisgald first, of course. Then we must head south toward Gel Carn, by the main road or by Blackfear.


    "The King''s Road is perfectly safe and never has any trouble with bandits. Unfortunately, not everyone was content to act as glorified caravan guards from criminals. However, I expect you might welcome a chance to fight them. And many of them have been terrorizing the local villages to the south."


    "Terrorizing?" asked William.


    "Well, threatening," said Jehair, straightening her hair. Her outfit had been worn and muddied by her efforts. "The best are desperate and have nothing else to survive on. The worst are monsters."


    "Why aren''t they on the King''s Road?" asked Felix. "Surely they would make a better profit there."


    "There is an unofficial arrangement with the local lords," said Jehair. "You see, the King''s Road was built by Anoa the Builder, but it must be maintained. Now in the old days, when Harlenor was united, it was maintained by the King''s men. But with the fall of the Anoa IX, that system broke down.


    "You need to pay people if you want them to work for you. This even though everyone had a stake in keeping the road active. A truly inexplicable event."


    "Amusing. Go on," said William.


    "Well, the King''s Road has fallen into disarray in Escor, and it never reached Haldren," said Jehair. "But in Antion, the system became that the local Lords would be expected to keep it in good repair. Not doing so could be considered treason.


    "Aona I, the founder of Antion, actually sacked a castle because the road was falling apart. It was a chilling way to set a precedent, but it was effective. Of course, later, Kings took to giving the Lords an incentive.


    "They are entitled to charge a reasonable toll for anyone who walks through their territory in it. All to cover expenses, of course."


    "That seems like a system that can be abused," noted William.


    "Blindingly so," said Jehair with a nice smile. "The Border Hills had several bloody conflicts with the lands of Blackfear. It was mostly on the basis that they were overcharging. It was making it impossible for their merchants to get to their destination, so they had to sell early.


    "It is no exaggeration to say that virtually all of the negotiation that goes on here relates to the King''s Road."


    "What does this have to do with bandits?" asked Felix.


    "Think about this from the perspective of a merchant from Gel Carn, child," said Jehair. She drew a line in the dirt with her scythe. "You want to journey up through the Border Hills to Antion.


    "You would have to travel the entire King''s Road or most of it. No matter what business you did, you''d lose money on it. It''s one of the reasons Gel Carn has never recovered."


    "So they cheat," guessed William. "Merchants try to take alternative routes to skip the checkpoints." He ate from some rabbit Massacre had caught earlier. Massacre was munching on thorns to one side.


    "Very good, child," said Jehair with a laugh. "And so having bandits murdering all the merchants who go off the road seems very appealing. One of the jobs I started doing a century or two ago was negotiating on behalf of local communities."


    "That would raise prices enormously," said William. "What about vital supplies?"


    "There are special arrangements that are in place for emergencies," said Jehair. "In wartime, things usually only have a brief delay. But during peace, things can completely grind to a halt."


    "So the bandits are left unchecked?" asked William. Felix stood up to go wash his hands off in a stream, running down from the mountain.


    "Not unchecked," said Jehair. "If they start misbehaving too badly, the local Lords will crack down and slaughter some of them. Sometimes an entire gang has been wiped out. But the bandits started making interconnected alliances as well.


    "So often if a Lord gets too aggressive, they''ll find themselves with a very serious problem. Rius, I gather, took the policy of never taking any action."


    "Why not?" asked William.


    "Ascorn is too prominent to attack," said Jehair, brushing a braid from over her shoulder. "If they did, there would be a mass outcry. Or so was the assumption until now."


    And so they continued.


    Until, at last, their road came to the city of Antres, which had been founded by Sir Orson and his friend, John Rain, long ago. It had been a major center of smithing, taking iron shipments from the Border Hills. They turned it into plows and horseshoes and many other things. It sold wares that reached to many lands.


    But his line had died out when King Andoa I killed the last male heir in single combat. That had been when Andoa had returned from captivity among the elves of Qor''Danas as a ward. At the time, many had doubted his right to rule. The King had lamented it and built many shrines and cathedrals in later days. Much of his focus on helping the people and public works had been given form here.


    Now Antres stood on the southeastern corner of the Black Mountain, and it was less formidable. The stonework was once very fine for human hands. He had been made obsolete and little maintained. Evidence of stolen stones could be seen, and the town had grown beyond it. The smoke of forges was heavy in the air and cooking fires, and the cathedral Anoa had built was there as well. Now it was ruled by Caskav, and that worried William.


    Best not to make an open announcement of his presence.


    And on the road before them was Lord Dunmoore.


    In his hands was a huge, red sword planted in the ground before him. On either side were ranks of Paladins. Some looked grim, others resolved, and others averted their gaze.


    "Speak of Diabolus," said one of them.


    "Lord Dunmoore," said Janice, going forward at a slow gait. She looked back to William as she did, and he found his eyes drawn to her. His eyes looked her up and down despite his own efforts, and he tried to look away.


    His gaze then fell instead on Grace and found himself with the same issue. And turning away from her led to Jaina. Finally, he forced himself to focus on Dunmoore to not be distracted by their beauty.


    "Lady Janice, Jaina, and Grace? What are you doing here?" asked Dunmoore.


    "We come bearing a prisoner for you," said Janice. And she motioned to Lamech on the back of Massacre. "Lamech waylaid several Paladins and slew them in single combat.


    "Jaina gave him the means to do so that he would not harm innocents. Sir Gabriel defeated him, and we bring now their shields and Lamech for judgment."


    Dunmoore nodded and looked to two Paladins. "...Well done.


    "Take this man to Princess Ansara. Keep him there. Be sure that Sir Gabriel''s actions are noted. It is the least we can do. You three may pass."


    And they did but turned to look back as William came forward. He had the feeling this conversation was not going to go as well for him. So he kept out of sword range.


    "You have my thanks, Sir William Gabriel, but you may go no further," said Dunmoore. "Go back to Ascorn and abandon this quest."


    "Lord Dunmoore, why do you bar my passage?" asked William. "I go to my family''s lands."


    "And from there, Gel Carn," said Dunmoore, frowning. "I know well your political designs and the power of your family. So I cannot allow you to reach the Heir of Kings."


    "Lord Dunmoore, I am going to Gel Carn to take her measure, nothing more," said William. "She is not even my principal goal."


    "Can any man, however noble, have their word be trusted in these days," said Dunmoore sadly. "There is great good you could do here. But I cannot allow you to go further.


    "Do service as a healer and a knight. There is much glory in that, more than in any tournament."


    "This cannot be about the Heir of Kings," said William. "What hold is on you that you must do this?" He could not defeat Lord Dunmoore, although with Massacre he might have a chance. Yet the only victor would be Lamech.


    "Dark forces have a hold on all of us. And some all must tolerate," said Dunmoor. "Just as you tolerate Arraxia, I must tolerate others."


    "I must get to Gel Carn," said William, looking to the three women. The sun was smiling down on them while they were in the shade.


    "I will give you an oath that no harm shall be done to her while we are here."


    "But oaths are not always binding," said Dunmoore. "What if you came to that place and thought her the puppet of one who meant your house ill? You might argue, with real honor from your own perspective, that she was not the Heir of Kings but an imposter."


    "Lord Dunmoore, I will go through you if I must," said William firmly. "I have a friend to gain pardon for. To do otherwise is to risk open war with Adrian Wrynncurth."


    Dunmoore nodded but stood his ground. "Then do as you believe is right.


    William halted and contemplated his chances. Looking to Felix, then Massacre, then Jehair, he saw them tense. Could he afford to have a battle here? Even if they won, there would be casualties. Looking around, William searched for any way out. To go around would take a long time he did not have. And Dunmoore had trackers of his own, no doubt.


    "I will not turn back," said William. "Lord Dunmoore, it comes to this. You must either trust me to pass or act as I have promised. Or you must kill me. Or you must turn me back, knowing that I will find another way past.


    "Every duty both to family, friend, and nation compels me to go this way. I cannot abandon it."


    "But what about Ascorn and the death of Lord Rius?" said Grace suddenly.


    "What?!" said Dunmoore, looking back.


    "Yes, Lord Dunmoore, Rius was executed for crimes against the people," said Jaina.


    "How can this be?" asked Dunmoore. "Sir William, do you know of this?"


    "Apparently, he and his Captains had a falling out," said William. "They became convinced he was plotting to undermine their houses and keeping secrets. And agents of King Gavin were within the city. War may well happen if rapid action is not taken, and the Babarassians are poised to take advantage.


    "And Lamech on the road behind had been killing every Paladin that crossed that way. Finally, he is defeated and taken captive by House Atravain. You can find the shields hanging still. Lamech was a known associate of Rius and was openly allowed to do business."


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Dunmoore seemed for a moment torn between grief and a kind of joy. And he looked like he had half a mind to yell in rage and the other to shout in joy. "This cannot be," he said, keeping the smile off his face. In fact, he was grimacing with the effort. "Rius dead and Lamech in his employ." He turned to his men. "Let him pass into his own land.


    "I will trust you in this, Gabriel. I pray that I do not do so in vain."


    "I understand," said William.


    "We go at once to Ascorn and check the shields he spoke of," said Dunmoore.


    Then the Paladins walked off. Dunmoore laughed the whole way, struggling to keep his composure. Many of the Paladins were able to avoid joining in. Some took Lamech off toward Antion.


    "In Calisha, Rius would have been crucified a long time ago," noted Felix.


    "Yes, well, no system is perfect," said Jehair.


    "Do not speak of such things," said William.


    Then he looked to see the banner of the Church of Elranor in a series of pavilions near the shrine. Many people were clustering by it from all over. William felt a sense of ease and wonder at that symbol. Of two hands reaching outward toward the sun as it rose.


    Though it had faded, the Sun Spirit had been worshipped as long as Elranor itself. Orson had popularized it, and now it stood as a symbol for all religions. For the High Priest of Elranor had authority over the faith itself and mediated disputes. He only hoped Rundas had not poisoned his mind against him.


    "Well, I suppose we can continue to the High Priest," said William. "No doubt we can speak to him about how to handle the plague. Perhaps we may be of service."


    And he began to make toward the shrine instead of the city. There were a number of buildings near it. First, a stockade filled with many animals, chickens, cows, and pigs, as well as doves. People were selling animals there, William presumed for sacrifices. Antion sacrificed animals as an act of faith. William did not understand the practice. Haldrenians stuck to the old ways of sacrifice by deed. Glory in combat and death, where the sacrifice was yourself or your enemy.


    Still, there was no shame in alternative practice. Antion sought to live more peacefully, and there was nothing wrong with that.


    "Do you think he will be able to help?" asked Jehair, faintly amused.


    "Of course," said William, irritated at the question. He had the feeling Jehair had some private joke at his expense. "He''s the High Priest of the Gods and of Elranor, God of Healing. And he is at present making a tour of this area."


    "I will leave you here for a time, William," said Jehair, sensing his unease. "Janice knows this area well, and I would like to see how the woodlands have fared. Will you allow it?"


    "Of course," said William, appreciating the effort. "Felix, Massacre, go with and ensure her safety. We have the less dangerous road."


    "Yes, sir," said Felix.


    And the three broke off.


    The three maidens came around him now, their staffs in hand. Jaina moved forward, adjusting her cloak. "Shall we, then?"


    "There is to be a sermon up there," said Grace. "You want to see it?"


    "Sermon?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Grace. "The priests sort of make a speech to the crowd that helps them with spiritual enlightenment.


    "Don''t you have those in your cathedrals?"


    "We don''t have cathedrals," said William. "Relationships with the gods are strictly personal." Still, it seems reasonable. The High Priest was the head of the church, of all churches in Antion. So it stood to reason that he would have the wisdom to impart.


    Otherwise, why would be invested with infallible authority over the texts?


    "...There is a plague house over there," said Jaina. "If you want to heal them."


    "What?" said William, looking to see a large building with two crimson-clad guards within. "How is that possible with so many priests here. The Paladins had a military expedition to get to; what could be taking them."


    "We could heal them," said Jaina.


    "The sermon is starting now," said Grace. "I want to hear it."


    "Someone could die while we are listening," noted Jaina.


    "The High Priest has left them there for a reason," said William. "He can''t possibly be unaware of them. However, I would not presume to intrude on an area under his authority. It may be that they have some curse beyond the greatest healers."


    "Perhaps we''ll find out," said Janice, with a tone of one who knows the answer.


    They went to the sermon, and it seemed like something out of a story. There was the shrine, and at the gates were the priests, clad in white and red. Below him were his assembled people, vast in number and clad in various clothes. There were merchants and ordinary men, and even a few slaves. They looked on with faith, with animals in their hands as above them the priests came forward.


    The priests wore red and gold and were inclined to be fat. They had jeweled necklaces and elaborate staffs. Most of them were not looking at the crowd at all but looking around and at eachother in boredom. Two actually exchanged coins as though settling some bet, but that was absurd. To one side, William saw a blonde woman dressed in simple white. A man dressed in gray was easy to move around with. They seemed to be speaking, and the man was scowling. So far as William could guess, the woman was trying to justify something.


    Then the High Priest came out of the temple, and he was not fat. He wore white and gold, and it was elaborate. Too elaborate, such as the amount of gold embroidery that it obscured him. William could only tell that he was about twenty or so and lean and tall, with neatly combed, blonde hair. Rundas was near him, and Joffrey as well, and William guessed he had fled Ascorn before William.


    "Presenting His Excellency, High Priest Coinfurth," said Rundas. "High Priest of the Gods, Chosen of Elranor, Supreme Overlord of the Church, Cirithil Magnar."


    This was ridiculous.


    The Kings of Harlenor did not feel the need to make this kind of entrance. And what was the good of all these titles? No, no, he was the head of faith, and that required certain formalities. And the priests all looked uncomfortable. Actually, they''d looked uncomfortable, to begin with.


    William wished he could believe it was a desire to pursue their duties.


    Cirithil came forward and raised a page as though it were a script. "People of Elranor, do not fear the plague, for all things are according to divine plan," he spoke in a bored tone. It was as though reading a script. Which he was. "The suffering now upon us is for the purposes of instruction. Continue to pray and give money to the church, and you will be saved.


    "If you have sinned, we will remove the taint of your sin for an agreed-upon amount. That''s all."


    And then they dispersed to cheering applause.


    Were these people stupid? No, of course not; they couldn''t be that stupid. Grace wasn''t stupid, and she was looking on in awe. They''d come out here for a religious revelation; the enthusiasm they felt was their reward. The High Priest was simply the channel by which they received it.


    But by the sneering laughter of some of the priests. They ripped off expensive garments and threw them at the blonde woman; they did not agree. At least some of them thought these people were really that stupid. No, no, they''d probably made speeches like this before and were eager to get it over with. William was eager to get this over with, and they were only human.


    Now they could move on.


    "That''s it?!" said Jaina. "A couple of bullet points rushed through in a bored tone is what they came a weeks travel to see?!"


    "He might have a reason for haste," said William, looking to where they were going. "There are many sick and injured to tend to here." The sentence left his lips as he saw the priests heading into a tall building with a woman outside it. She was wearing a white robe, but it did not seem like something she was used to.


    As though ushering them into heaven.


    It was a brothel, wasn''t it? Well, many great warriors of Antion used the brothels. Of course, they weren''t perfect and spiritual warfare was important too. Who was William to judge?


    "What is that building?" asked William, not even half believing his justifications.


    "That''s a brothel, William," said Janice with a smile. A smile infuriated William.


    "I know what it is," said William with a sigh.


    "Step back. Step back, all of you," said a man with a resemblance to Raynald. He was clad in the orange of House De Chevlon and bore the Calishan Honey Badger. Around him were many soldiers standing by. "You can''t take your animals into the temple for sanitation reasons. The plague may be carried inside."


    "It is our right to sacrifice to the Gods," said a man. "Who are you to stop us?"


    "Get back, peasant!" said the man, and he smashed him across the face hard. He fell back, bleeding horribly with his jaw out of place. "I am Alchive De Chevlon! And no one gets through!


    "The High Priest has initiated this as a means to control the plague. No one gets in or out. Sign your name here, and you can sell your animals at that market. They will give you money that can be used to purchase properly sanitized animals within the temple."


    William moved forward and quickly healed the man as he limped away. He then healed several other people as the discussion continued. His eyes found drawn to Janice, Grace, and Jaina over and over. And he began to suspect they had cast some kind of spell.


    "But I already bought an animal from a special market," said a woman. "See here?"


    "That''s the wrong brand," said Alchive. "Now buy one for real or get out." S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Obviously, the guard was going behind the High Priest''s back. Time to do something about this. But what?


    "I''m going," said one.


    "What?" said a woman. "Why?!"


    "Better to get fleeced and keep my soul," said the man.


    "Shouldn''t we do something?" asked Grace.


    "William?" asked Janice.


    "I''m trying to think," said Jaina.


    What would Father do in this situation?


    He''d just walk on as it was not his business. It would be unwise to challenge them on their doorstep. So what would Raynald or Tanith do? "I''m a Haldrenian.


    "You don''t want my solution."


    More laughter, and it maddened him. "Excuse me, Lord Alchives?"


    "Yes, what is it?" asked Alchives. He was almost an exact twin of Raynald, actually. Only without the scars or withered appearance. "Who are you?"


    "I am William," said William. "I am a student to your brother.


    "What is the plan for those plague victims over there."


    "They have been quarantined," said Alchive. "And will receive treatment when their families pay the Healer''s Guild. Now get out of my sight."


    "I would like permission to tend to them," said William. "I am an accomplished healer."


    "Tend to them?" said Alchives. "You ask me for permission to sabotage a legal business?"


    "How do you measure up to your own standards," asked Jaina. "By what authority does the High Priest bar passage to a shrine on the lands of Lady Atravain?" asked Janice.


    "This shrine is dedicated to Elranor," said Alchives. "Elranor is not limited in his authority, neither are we. Moreover, our purpose is to respond to the plague. Quarantine is one of the rights within his grace''s jurisdiction."


    William looked again to the plague victims, mouth opening, and he almost made for it. But he checked himself, praying they could be helped.


    "Yes, but the shrine was built by my Grandfather," said Grace. "When he was friends with House Rain. And I want to pray in it. Can I go through it?"


    Alchives looked at the now restless people around him. "So long as you do not carry animals, yes. But none of these scum around you. Nobility only."


    Grace turned back. "Well then, why don''t each of you pray and make your sacrifices here. Then you won''t have to enter the temple at all!"


    "You dare undermine the High Priest''s rights?!" said Alchives.


    "Why not?" asked Janice, eyes narrowing. "Turnabout is fair play. There''s no law against making sacrifices before a temple."


    "The money that is made from these sacrifices will pay for a new temple," said Alchives. "Contracts have already been sent out to stonemasons to be built at a place of the High Priest''s choosing. So you peasants will fulfill your purpose and sacrifice here."


    William stood up, realizing he''d been resting on one knee from the blow. His hand went to his sword, but Jaina caught it. A sense of her being wise and all-knowing went through him, and he did not know why. But it halted him.


    William had the impression that Cirithil would make different use of those profits.


    "I''m a daughter of Lady Atravain," said Janice. "Who holds authority here. It is my judgment that it is their decision how they use their animals.


    "Then it''s settled," said Grace. "Some of you must go out and gather wood and leaves to build pyres to burn the offerings on outside. Each of us shall enter at a given time, and when all have prayed, we''ll sacrifice them at once.


    "It shall be a communal sacrifice."


    "This is no ritual I have heard about!" said Alchives.


    "Unless you have another way these people can avoid being fleeced, it''s all they have," said Jaina. "Outside quarantine, so we can do as we like. Janice, can you take charge of gathering firewood.


    "Partake or watch as you will."


    Alchives stepped forward in a rage, hand going to his sword. But William drew his own and Jaherus her scythe.


    "Massacre," said William. "Make sure these men hurt no one. If they try, you can do as you like."


    "Bah," said Massacre, treading behind Alchives.


    "We will build a cairn and dedicate it to Elranor," said Janice. "Then it will be a temple."


    This idea was met with enthusiasm from the commoners and seething rage from Alchives. But he could not leave the gate and dared not fight Massacre. The guard was assigned to keep watch on the animals by Grace while everyone set about making their altar. William thought it worked out better this way. Everyone kept their money, and the extra effort made it more memorable.


    Obviously, they''d had bad luck with the priest of his generation.


    "You realize you have struck an ally of your house across the face," said William, drawing off his helm. "I am the son of Duke Vanion Gabriel."


    "I don''t care if you were trained by that withered armed, deformed abomination!" snarled Alchives. "He is a vicious, depraved animal, kin to wolves and devoid of courage or intellect. The little monster substitutes base cunning and animal bloodlust for both.


    "Why Argath ever vouched for him is beyond me!"


    William halted and saw those same empty eyes he''d seen in Joffrey. As if Alchives had been torn down to the foundations of who he was and had them marred. "It is a shame to see a great house sink so low. I see now why the Baroness Saphra was given the position you three declined."


    And he walked away. Alchives, meanwhile, was deadly silent.


    Now William saw why Raynald hated his brothers so much. He''d thought they''re turning on the Vampires to have been an act of virtue. But they were all utter beasts. Or two out of three anyway.


    "Is this a new problem?" asked William.


    "Not really," said Jaina sadly. "The closest you get to Antion, the less religious people are."


    "That''s worrying," said William, not becoming suspicious about the animals being sold. "I want to know about those animals. Jaina, let''s go."


    Moving up the slopes, William came to the structure. Virtually no one was at it, but a man was counting money with obvious glee. His hair was reddish, like the De Chevlons, but he lacked the scorn of the others. Then, feeling their eyes on him, he put it away apologetically. "Sorry, slow day.


    "The Lady''s ritual has cut my profits."


    "You don''t seem upset," said William.


    "I''m already a rich man," said the man, having the grace to seem a bit guilty. "This plan of His Grace has made me and many others very wealthy. The wife and I shall be taking our children to a new house.


    "Are you here to purchase animals for sacrifice?"


    "Actually, I want to know about the animals," said William. "Where did you get them?"


    "They come from the High Priest''s personal flocks. They are quite extensive," said the man.


    "And how are these flocks swelled to such numbers?" asked Jaina.


    "They are purchased," said the man. "Though many of them are bred. They''ve been growing over generations, and many are butchered to feed the poor." Well, that was nice. "Traditional, though I admit, the poor are a bit too numerous. These days with all the Sornian buyers coming into the market.


    "Begging your pardon milady."


    "Not at all," said Jaina. "My family is very distantly descended from Sorn. We have inherited a talent with wealth. But we are of Antion.


    "Who are your usual buyers?"


    "Recently?" asked the man.


    "Yes, recently?" said Jaina.


    "The High Priest has been making a tour to ease the suffering of these people," said the man. "In the process, flocks are sometimes purchased on the side. When you can bypass tolls, it mean you can actually use the King''s Road?


    "Can I interest you in an indulgence?" He brought up several slips of paper.


    William frowned. "I was given to understand that King Andoa phased indulgences out. Citing a meeting where Elranor personally requested it."


    "Yes, however, they have been recreated in response to a changing world," said the man. "I am certain his Grace has his reasons.


    "Actually, I shouldn''t be saying this, but funds have been disappearing at an alarming rate. A lot of unexpected expenses. New clothes, appointments to keep. Sometimes you have to give money to questionable sources to get anything done."


    "Do we get a cut?" asked Jaina.


    "What?" asked the man.


    "Do the nobility get a cut for all this?" asked Jaina.


    "Why would you ask that?" asked the man. "Surely the temple is administered purely by the priesthood, milady."


    "Because you are on our land," said Jain. "You are using merchant stalls that could be used for other purposes. You are cutting off access to holy sites we often built with our finances.


    "What is done here affects us.


    "Yet no word of this came to my Mother, Lady Atravain. We were not even informed of this, and there was a major meeting of nobility. Not one spoke of it."


    "Perhaps the bandits are worse than we thought," said the man.


    "But are we getting a cut?" asked Jaina. "Yes or no will do."


    The man halted. "No."


    "Then pack up your wares," said Jaina. "I may not have authority over holy ground, but this is not holy ground. Your presence here has already disturbed the prayers of my people.


    "Caskav is one of our vassals.


    "Take your profits, sell your remaining wares, and let us see no more of them."


    "Of course," said the man, looking unsteadily at Alchives. "I am certain the High Priest will understand your concerns. Perhaps you could see him in yonder br- building."


    William felt sympathy for him. He was just doing his job, but Jaina''s gaze seemed to be piercing him. Off he went, talking to servants and getting them to go out and find buyers. At the same time, the burnt offerings began on the new Cairne. Grace said prayers with great enthusiasm. William wondered if she should not have been a priestess.


    "There is no way there is a good reason for this," said Jaina. "I''m going to see the high priest."


    "I will go," said William. "A direct confrontation could be scandalous. I am an ignorant foreigner, so just hang back."


    "As you wish, Sir Knight," said Jaina with a smile. "You shall be my shield in this."


    William smiled and walked toward the confrontation.


    Even so, as he approached the brothel, he reflected he was not looking forward to this. Because in that brothel was a demon.

 Chapter Five: Devils in the Flesh

    As William neared the brothel, the stench of alcohol was in the air. Drunken laughing and carousing could be heard. Coming to an open window, he heard course laughter, and looking through the window, he was blinded by what he saw. At first, it seemed to be a radiance of sorts, and within were four beautiful goddesses.


    One was tall, lounging on a cushion, her lustrous brown hair in a ponytail falling around her. She wore a red outfit that bared shoulders and dipped far down below her breasts in a v. The movement drew attention to their size as she drank from two flagons. Her tongue licked her pouty lips clean of alcohol as she shifted in revelry.


    So this was the goddess Maius?


    William tried to look away but found he did not have anything to look at. His spirit was no longer under his control, and he found himself looking her up and down. Trying to divert the thoughts, William looked at her expression to devise her intent. Was this the Goddess Maius? Certainly, the way everything seemed to blur in the room beside her told him that much.


    The Goddess of Revelry was here? Why could he not look away from her?


    Yet she was not focused on him at all. She hadn''t the faintest in him but rather something far below.


    A little ways off, he saw another, Maius, equal in beauty yet also opposite, but she was clad in a white. It was a clinging blue Naminaen stress of dress with short, baggy sleeves. They narrowed at the end of toned arms. It was emblazoned with the symbols of many golden dragons upon it. Her muscular thighs held fishnet stockings. Her brown hair was tied into two hair buns on either side, but she was not drinking. Rather she was watching and writing notes.


    Then there was Imogen, playing solitaire over in the corner. And also a familiar figure, resembling Isriath from the picture. But her harp was to one side, and she was looking at Maius with a smile. He had a vague sense of beautiful blonde women from whom light shone, but he could not get at her. And last, of all, there was darkness to one side.


    They were not actually here, but they were transposed over women in this place. William could see Imogen. She seemed to be drinking and watching. What were they doing here, and why?


    Trying to find out what they could be looking for, he saw something he couldn''t make out in the blur of his eyes. Was it the world? Or a person? Or perhaps the souls of individuals? William tried to interpret it, but his head was spinning.


    What they were looking at dawned on him.


    Then there were the priests, Cirithil, and his cronies. All of them were very well-dressed and completely drunk. They seemed to be completely unaware of the goddesses mere feet away.


    What was going on here?


    "Ah, there''s nothing like a reward for some sacred work," said Cirithil, tossing the dice.


    They were leering at a variety of ordinary women who were keeping up appearances. The Goddesses were gone, and the women here were afraid but keeping up appearances.


    "Well, you are infallible, your grace," said Rundas. "We''ve made more money in the past few weeks than in years. I can''t believe these peasants will actually pay extra just to sacrifice to their fake god."


    "Well, I''m sure the faithful will always show their appreciation in new ways. Isn''t that right, girls," said Cirithil. "Roll the dice."


    "Aw, Coinfurth, snake eyes again, High Priest Cirithil!" said a man.


    "Well, I''m sure the snake will appreciate it!" said Cirith. "They''ve plenty of death to deal with as it is!"


    "Not at the rate the plague is taking these peasants," said Rundas. "Idiots actually think anyone cares about their animals. They actually got off on us reading the same script they had for everyone."


    "Well, our wallets care, Cirithil. They care a lot," said Joffrey. "Snake eyes." Everyone seemed to be agreeing and sucking up to Cirithil.


    The odd thing was that all of these were grown, men. Yet all of them seemed to become slowly childlike as the game went on. But not any kind of child that had ever existed. There was a sickening innocence to how they threw the dice. Not of one who did not know better but who had severed their ability to know better.


    William wondered if he only imagined it.


    Was that why the women had been there?


    They''d been playing a game together, but of what kind, William did not know. Who were the players? Certainly not the men around them. They were the coins being shuffled around. What would God take them?


    "Snake eyes again!" said Rundas.


    "Snake eyes!" said Cirithil.


    "Snake eyes!" said Joffrey, loving every moment of it. As though rolling the dice is their sole purpose of existence.


    They did not care about the loss in profits.


    Looking over, William saw Imogen. Had she been planted there, or was this coincidence? Had she been sent to tempt him in some way? By who?


    Did it even matter?


    "What is this a sign?" asked Cirithil, scoffing even as he posed the question. But there was a kind of humanity in his voice then.


    "Well, a member of House Gabriel has been wandering around like a witless cow in skull armor. Healing everyone from Ascorn to here," said Rundas. "Thinks that just because that worthless deformed mongrel trained him, he''s important!"


    "What an idiot," said Joffrey. "Wasting his time on those sheep. Does he really think cutting into our business makes him important!


    "He''s a garden snake!


    "Damn it, snake eyes again!" Laughing from all of them, but a seething rage was in William''s mind. A desire to murder everyone inside came to him, but he shoved it down.


    Could they not see him at the window?


    "High Priest... maybe this is a sign," said a woman, one just out of sight. "And perhaps it is not wise to tempt fate-"


    "Oh, shut you bitch," said Cirithil, sounding more human than ever. "We don''t keep you around for anything but your breasts and money, Ata. Now take off your clothes so we can see, Elranor commands."


    William walked to the door.


    "High Priest, this is outrageous!" said a man.


    "Oh really?" said Cirithil, practically spitting the words. And all his fellow priests leered as one in the speaker''s direction. "Well, if Elranor disapproves, Coalmarsh, let Elranor strike me down where I-"


    William brought up a leg and kicked the door. It shattered and broke off its hinges, which bent and marked the frame. The splintered were thrown forward as the fragments of the door broke on the matt. Within, the priests screamed like children and fled behind Cirithil. Cirithil was too dumbstruck to move. Coalmarsh, the man she''d been talking to, looked at Cirithil with murderous intent.


    "Oh Gods, I didn''t mean it!" said Cirithil. The exception was Ata, a blonde woman who was sitting to one side while reading from a holy text. And also a grim-faced priest looking at Cirithil in utter disgust and holding a cudgel. This was Coalmarsh, he guessed.


    Did he have to sit through this regularly?


    "You look worried, your grace," said William in disgust. "Have I caught you at a bad time?"


    Ata stepped up and fled out the door, and Coalmarsh stood up in disgust and walked out. Based on his gait, he had drunk nothing and looked to William. "I don''t suppose you''re here to murder him?"


    "No," said William.


    "Better luck next time, I suppose," said Coalmarsh.


    And he walked out.


    "Get out of here," said Cirithil, pointing to the door.


    Much older men were whimpering at his presence. William was almost tempted to go to the gaming table and turn it over. Then he looked at the woman at the door and realized it was their property. He''d shattered it just to make an entrance, and they looked at him with accusation.


    William had no time for this. "No, you will follow me.


    "Pay these women for the expense and leave them be." And drawing out what coins he had remaining, he gave them to them quickly. "You have work to do."


    "In my own good time," snarled Cirithil like a cornered animal.


    "The time is now or never," said William.


    "I am the High Priest!" said Cirithil. "I could damn you to hell with a thought!"


    "That is not in any holy text," said William. "And no, you can''t."


    "The holy texts can be altered by me at will," said Cirithil. "It is my right! My word is infallible and unquestionable!"


    William sighed. "High Priest Cirithil, the Kingdom of Antion is falling apart.


    "Plague is spreading across the land; rebellion is nigh. Satyr warbands have killed nobility. Lord Rius is dead, executed by foreigners for crimes against the people. There is an entire house of people dying of plague.


    "It would be well if you could at least come and look at them."


    "Well, then, why don''t you do something about it," said Cirithil. "Stop wasting my time and telling me to do your job for you, knight errant! Get out!"


    "You are a priest, invested with holy power by Elranor. All of you are," said William. "I won''t be here in a week, but each one of you could save hundreds. And those hundreds would never infect anyone. Your sermons could save souls."


    "The church is my property! Mine!" screamed Cirithil, sounding like a spoiled child but still human. "I have the legal right to use it or not use it as I see fit!


    "We bought our positions, and we can do what we like with them! Now get out and sing prayers to your sky daddy!? It''s all just a bunch of fake tricks anyway!"


    What was he talking? Elranor was not associated with the sky. That way Zeya''s domain.


    Where had all this terminology come from? It was obviously foreign.


    Some foreign influence or such?


    William tried to be patient. "Once the plague destroys Antion, it will devour you. Any one of you could be infected tomorrow." He paused and looked at the girls as he realized how dangerous their lives were. "Some of you might have been infected right now. So you have to quit this business, or you''ll surely be dead soon.


    "I''ve seen the plague out west. And there are plague victims quarantined right near here. Get out of here." A panic came over him. "Take your money and go anywhere else! Now!"


    The girls nodded in panic and hurried upstairs. Cirithil looked up. "Hey, I haven''t paid you yet! None of us have! Get back here, you sluts, or you''ll regret it!


    "You''ll never be able to pay to have dinner with me!"


    William stared. "If you have no regard for your nation, if you have no regard for the people, what about Elranor?"


    "What about him?" said Cirithil. "He''s a brutal, nonexistent sociopath who commits genocide and abuses women!" Then grabbing some money, he tried to throw it at a prostitute. William caught his hand and sighed. "You can''t touch me!


    "You can''t assault me! I''m the High Priest! I own you!"


    "No, you do not; I am not part of your religion, merely your faith, and Elranor owns that," said William.


    "Then I''ll send you to hell!" screamed Cirithil, drawing a knife in a drunken stupor and trying to stab him. Instead, it broke on William''s armor, and he sighed. The knife was cutlery.


    So this was the scheming mastermind who had backed Joffrey.


    William got his answer when Cirithil''s eyes changed.


    Stepping back, William could hardly look the man in the face. The sheer malice and hatred in his gaze were answered enough. It pained William to keep his gaze, and there was a vileness there he could hardly stand. And it was in the eyes of all the priests subtly. Their posture changed as he realized they had given their will over to this creature.


    But Cirithil had done it willingly. The other''s malice seemed to flow into them from him. It was only there a moment, and then the facade returned.


    What was this thing?


    The demon was deliberately trying to discredit the church. How had it gotten so many utterly depraved people in positions of influence?


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "Eating knives are not useful for combat. And how are you taking care of your property?" asked William, feeling as though he were talking to a six-year. Rather than someone nearly twice his age. Only Cirithil should know better. "What will there be left for you if this entire nation falls to pieces because you are not doing your job.


    "You are supposed to be guiding and helping the people through troubled times. Or failing that, praying for help. I admit my understanding of the tenets of the Antion branch of Elranor''s flock is limited. But I do not think the worship of Maius is part of."


    "Who?" said Cirithil. "You mean one of the whores?! I don''t worship them!


    "They worship me, the filthy bitches!"


    "Well, you seem to have more regard for them than your faith," said William in deadpan. The man was obviously drunk. Except, he didn''t seem it; his eyes were focused and intent as if examining William''s reactions. The other priests had an empty, soulless look, but Cirithil''s was alert.


    Was he trying to make the church look as disgraceful and loathsome as possible? Why? William could kill all of them right now? Was that the point?


    The demon that had possessed Joffrey.


    It was using Cirithil, adopting a mask of utter depravity and stupidity. And also to provoke William into murdering these men or taking some action. So even this was advancing the goal. If William killed these men, it would set off a worse chain reaction than anything. "If your god means nothing to you, what of it?


    "The people out there care. I care.


    "A great many nobles care. And this kind of display ill befits a man of your station. If this continues, there may well come a day, High Priest Cirithil, when your title can no longer protect you."


    "And when will that come?" said Joffrey. "When some farm girl becomes Heir of Kings, and House Korlac is something other than a joke? When the Heavens Eye is moved by a plagued Calishan, and Antion sends it to Baltoth?"


    This was the real him.


    Except it wasn''t.


    It was as if he''d sat down and thought of all the most contemptible things he could adopt. But why was Cirithil more alert than Rundas or Joffrey? All of these men were the same, actually. You could tell how they were responding to anything without bothering to ask.


    It was as if they were slowly merging together into a collective whole of malice and spite. But William had to try and pull them out of it.


    "The day may come," admitted William. "Stranger things have happened. And things said in jest can sometimes come true." He let go of Cirithil''s hand. "You have the opportunity here to become great. Even if you do not wish to use the power of Elranor, your money, and resources could save many. Do great charitable deeds with them, and provide funding to those who fight the plague. Become involved in politics.


    "Use your position, whatever it is, whether small or great, to make a small difference. With enough small differences, the world could be made infinitely better. Endure hardship today, and you may well look fondly on that hardship forevermore."


    "My life would be made better if you left," said Coinfurth. "As far as harlots go, I prefer something a bit more vulnerable." No one was ever really this contemptible in real life.


    Some of the priests did not laugh quite so loudly, for they saw William''s sword. "Have you no consideration for your own soul? You will not live forever, Cirithil.


    "If you want to have anything after you die beyond eternity of agony, you must perform service to a deity. Preferably the deity you are the High Priest to, but failing that, any deity. How do you intend to enter any heaven?


    "Do you think they will listen to tales of alcohol and rolling dice?"


    "Well, I hear Maius is into that kind of thing," said Joffrey.


    "And who the hell are you to talk!" said Rundas. "How dare you worship a god that allows infant sacrifice!" Rundas was not faking this; he was drunk and did not seem as advanced in the service of the demon.


    "...He doesn''t allow infant sacrifice," said William. Had these idiots even paid attention? "How do you measure up to your own standards anyway, Rundas?"


    "I am the High Priest!" shrieked Cirithil.


    Then snatching up a coin, he hurled it at William, and it bounced off his armor. The others soon began grabbing money and following suit. Even so, something in the air was changing. The demon was obviously being strained, its influence weakening.


    "Beware what you are doing, Cirithil. The Goddess of Revelry is not one to invoke lightly," said William, who had done his own research. "She is dangerous as well as joyful.


    "For all you know, she might be very annoyed with you for misusing her domain. Even as we speak, she could be planning retribution. Pray for Elranor''s protection and forgiveness, and she may let the slight pass. You have done no damage to him and much to yourself."


    "Oh, and I guess the virgin goodie two shoes know all about revelry," said Cirithil, laughing. More drunken laughter, and by now, the prostitutes were coming down with a variety of bags. They were packing their things. Obviously, they had done very well in their time. Yet they looked past him toward the temple. William doubted they were even aware of the demons. He guessed that his status as a Paladin was what made him able to perceive it.


    William stared at these sad shells of men and tried to come up with something to reach them. To spark a flame in the embers of what they were. Perhaps just appeal to their sense of hedonism.


    "Look...


    "Just leave this place. Whatever joy you could have had from it is spent. Walk beneath the sun and think of something other than your stomach.


    "If you want to serve the Goddess of Revelry, then think of how you may best do so?"


    "Our relationship is s a series of disconnected encounters," said Cirithil. "I don''t owe her anything-"


    "Not if you were the last man in Erian," said a prostitute. And she threw a tankard in his face and stalked past toward the temple. She was Maius no longer and was only an ordinary person as she did. "Find me a priest."


    And the others did the same and walked out. Cirithil almost seemed affected by this and gained a bit of lucidity. The alcohol dripped off him, but his eyes darkened. "You bitch!


    "Traitors! I''ll cut all your heads off and hang you for heresy! I am the High Priest!"


    "You didn''t even know her name five minutes ago," said William. It was almost admirable how dedicated he was to deface his own religion.


    Almost.


    "Wait, look, I know you''re not really here..." Cirithil halted. How could anyone be this detached and stupid? Even if he was drunk, this was shameful. "Damn it.


    "Well, you just scared off one of my dates, all of them. Come back! I paid you a fortune!"


    "Sir Gabriel, where can we find holy orders?" asked the prostitute.


    "The Temple might be a good start," said William. "You could also try Coalmarsh, he walked out very early, and I don''t think he drank anything."


    "Or you might try outside the temple. They are sacrificing animals to purify their sins under Grace Atravain."


    "Thank you," said another woman. "You''re a good sort."


    William waited until they were gone before turning to the priests, who looked to now have a hangover. They were waking up in the middle of a brothel that had only them in it and a lot of tapestries. "High Priest Cirithil, the prostitutes have left you to seek the gods.


    "Will you not at least ask why?"


    "Go to hell!" said Cirithil. The demon seemed to have receded somewhat in these men.


    They were drunken, depraved monsters who cared nothing for their responsibilities.


    And the rest of the priests turned up their noses. And slowly but surely, the light of humanity that had briefly been kindled vanished. The twisted remnant of who they had been retreated back into themselves and was subsumed. All that was left were soulless things.


    But William knew Elranor would have him try again. "Will none of you ask why? Will you not consider that some action you have taken was in error? Or unwise? Or that some part of your infallible will was perhaps misinterpreted?


    "You have a chance to heal the ills of the land?


    "If you wait until the day of reckoning, it will be too late. Just... just leave this place. Or failing that, just put down your scepter. Set it down and leave it so that it will no longer have any power over you. You no doubt can buy another, and there is no reason to keep it-"


    "We''re staying here!!" screamed Cirithil, voice pained with the yell.


    He probably didn''t even know where ''here'' was. The demon was winning out, not for lack of power but for lack of resistance.


    "And what of you priests?" asked William. "There are twelve of you. Will you not leave and do as you are ordained by the Gods? What pleasure remains in this place for you?"


    For a moment, they considered it. A few nearly moved, though Rundas stayed silent, and his gaze looked to the door.


    "If you leave, I''ll see you hang," said Cirithil, turning and pointing at them. His eyes were wild in terror. "I can do it.


    "One word from me, and I''ll watch you hang from the gallows without a trial. I''ve got friends."


    And instantly, they shut down. The mere possibility of having to take a risk for salvation was too much. They were cowards to the end.


    Wiliam sighed. "Is such a man your friend?


    "If he will hang you for walking in the sunlight, what loyalty and protection can you expect from him? Would it not be better to seek political allies? Others who would not betray you? Not me, obviously, but anyone.


    "Anywhere other than this decadent and loathsome place."


    But not one of them moved, and they dared not gaze at him. Then, slowly but surely, the demon was returning to their eyes.


    Each of them had become so corrupted by vice that they would not even depart a brothel to please the gods. So William kneeled down and picked up the coins they''d thrown at his feet. He actually really needed the money; they''d had a lot more expenses than expected.


    Perhaps he should say something?


    No.


    Whatever horror had possessed these men now had them in its grip perfectly. And William wondered if it was the vilest thing he had ever seen. Melchious was much more terrifying and dangerous, but he was creative. Arraxia was an amusing conversation and lived up to her word. Baltoth crucified people, but he had many virtues and was consistent. Tavish was a slaving thief, but he did help some people simultaneously. Then there was Lamech, who was brave and inventive?


    Yes, he was.


    This was the dark lord of their era. A drunken, cowardly whoremonger who knew nothing and thought he knew everything. A man with no power who thought he was all-powerful. Worst of all, he seemed to have willingly and knowingly become this.


    And for what?


    He''d already had the luxury and could have whatever he wanted? What was the price he''d been offered?


    Should he kill him?


    What was the point?


    Cirithil was doing a very good job of killing himself. In a few decades, he''d drink himself into oblivion if he wasn''t kicked out of every brothel in the country. Assuming he wasn''t executed first.


    "A Blackguard is getting into heaven ahead of you, Cirithil," said William.


    "You''d better hope we never meet in Antion!" said Cirithil, voice a croak as his face twisted and spasmed.


    William put the coins into his pack, wishing he had a purse. "I assure you.


    "We won''t."


    And he walked back, feeling bitter and sad. The sacrifices were being made, and perhaps it would help. Behind him, Cirithil and his people rushed out. They ran into their carriages to be taken away to whatever hell would take them. Though at this point, one could hardly give them a worse one than what they had done already.


    "Are the sacrifices nearly done?" asked William of Grace.


    "Yes, they are," said Grace. "Janice has all the firewood and is about to light it. But some people insist on going to the temple. We''ve been buying their animals at a reasonable price."


    "How?" asked William.


    "Well, I convinced the merchant who was buying them to work for me," said Grace. "Now he is buying them on behalf for a reasonable price. Not a perfect solution, but still better."


    William shook his head. There was one more thing that had to be done. "Not good enough." And he turned to the guard. "Alchives, I will pray as you allow."


    And walking forward up the steps, he entered that same shrine. But the floor was of marble, and it was beautiful, with stained-glass windows that caught the light. Intricate signs were everywhere.


    Yet the smell took away from it.


    There were pens of animals on the temple floor, fouling it by their nature. Finely dressed merchants hawked at people trying to pray. Money was counted on the floor and on tables. Alcohol was being drunk and even sold!


    "Get your cows! Get your cows!" shouted someone at him.


    "Chickens over here!" said another, not to be outdone.


    "Doves!" said another. "Doves for peace!"


    Enough was enough. They might as well have tried to fleece Elranor in his own home. Yet William mastered himself. William Gabriel moved forward to the altar and tried to prey. Yet the noise was everywhere, and he could not focus.


    "You need a sacrifice, Sir Knight, to get what you want," said a man. "Try one of my doves."


    "No, a chicken would be smiled on more," said another.


    Finally, William had enough. No one here could pray, he could tell by their distraction, and no one could sacrifice. There was not a single part of this shrine to the gods untrained. Gripping one of the tables, he threw it down, scattering it over the floor. As he did, it shattered, and everyone in the temple began to grope and grab coins. Merchants screamed at the loss of their precious money, and the cows moaned. Turning over another, he shoved a person back as they tried to stop him.


    "Out!" roared William, throwing open the pavilion where the cows were. "All of you out of this sacred place! Out!" And snatching up a rope from the pen, he lashed it at them, driving them out of doors. And when it was cleared, he threw aside the rope to look at the filthy straw covered in muck.


    There was a low snarling in the air from Diabolus.


    William broke the cage doors for the doves, and they flew out in great numbers. They went out the doors as William tore open the cow enclosure. They lumbered out as a hateful presence seemed to manifest and tear at his mind. Then he tore open the chicken enclosure and let them all flee outward.


    From there, he turned to the altar and walked to the altar. There he kneeled and began to pray. The stink was still present, but the noise was gone.


    Coming out into the light, he saw Grace, Janice, and Jaina staring at him. Alchives looked on in rage but looked back to Massacre.


    "What did you do?!" said Janice.


    "Forced the merchants out of the temple," said William. "Bring me to the sick and injured." Then he looked at the people. "Cleanse this place. Clean the temple and get rid of the merchant stands."


    Dead silence.


    "A miracle!" said Ata. "A miracle!


    "The plague house has been healed by our sacrifices! Lady Grace has saved us!"


    William sighed despondantly and shook her head.


    "Do you know how much money you have lost these merchants?!" said Alchives, and they were gathering behind. "Is this how House Gabriel treats their allies?"


    "Did you ever treat me as such?" asked William. "Did you ever treat Raynald as such? Did you ever treat Elranor as such?! Are you standing on the old alliances when you treated the gods with contempt a moment ago?"


    "I am performing a legitimate service for the church," said Alchives. "And you are destroying property?!"


    "You are turning the domain of Elranor into a den of thieves!" roared William. "The church has nothing to do with religion! Just who the hell do you people think you are?!"


    His scream echoed and echoed throughout the land, and William realized he''d been heard.


    Alchives looked at a loss for words. "I''ll remember this."


    "I don''t care if you do," said William. "Either the church is sacred or nothing is sacred. If you''re concerned about these merchants, you could help them retrieve their animals."


    "I will," said Alchives. "You men, we''re going to gather those up. There''s no point in letting those people be bankrupted for this brat."


    "Some of you help them," said Grace. "We don''t want anyone to go bankrupt over this."


    And he moved off, and the lost cows were gathered up. Alchives was careful to check which one belonged to which. He was quite meticulous, and the merchants seemed to appreciate it. William did not actually mind. Now that the beasts were out of the temple and it was being cleaned of their filth. He did not begrudge them prosperity.


    Yet they shot him dark glances.


    Well, he was not afraid of them in this or any company.


    Later they met up with Jaherus, Felix, and Massacre at the border into House Gabriel. Felix was leaning against a tree, hair falling around his shoulders. Jaina, Grace, and Janice seemed to recite some rituals together. "How did things go."


    "Well, I exorcised the High Priest from the temple," said William sadly. "Purified the unholy influence of the church. Meanwhile, Janice, Jaina Grace served Elranor by abandoning his sacred traditions. I am sick of Antion."


    "Try working here for forty years," said Jehair in bitter amusement.


    "You''ve been here that long?" asked Felix.


    "No, longer," said Jehair. "But elves'' minds go in cycles; we gradually reincarnate in one body, so we shift to take on a new persona. It''s why a romance between mortals and us can work."


    "Ah, of course," said William.


    The conversation fell by the wayside as they continued.


    Later on down the road, they were met by a large band of thugs sent by the High Priest to arrest them. Massacre ate them all. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Was it too much to ask for a bit of respect?


    There the further he went, the more a mass hanging seemed appropriate. It was a very bleak thought which put him in an even worse mood. Because most of those priests were likely nobles, who bought their position.


    And they probably had friends and influence.


    So, his problems were only just starting.

 Chapter Six: A Welcome Break

    More healing villages. Several, in fact.


    Yet another miserable, tedious job he had to do on top of everything else. This sort of thing had happened before in Antion. Harlenorians had done worse to people who they believed had committed heresy. Even so, William found the faith of these people weak indeed.


    But he healed them anyway.


    There was no great religious revelation or thank yous of any kind. Nobody expected him to do the work, and nobody thought it was important.


    At last, the time came to say goodbye to their beautiful companions.


    "Well," said Janice. "Mother will be pleased to have cut the church out of some power. And now we have a free hand to actually worship without the priests getting in the way."


    "Civil unrest shouldn''t be nearly as much of a problem with the plague dealt with," said Jaina. "Thank you, William."


    "Of course, we couldn''t have done it without your chimera friend," said Grace, scratching Massacre behind the ears. "I''d love to see you again."


    "I''m probably going to go on a mission to Blackfear soon," said Jaina. "Mother wants to examine things down there. We might cross paths."


    "I''ll look forward to it," said William. He enjoyed having all three of the beautiful sisters present.


    Jaina in particular.


    For a moment, he found himself stunned by their combined beauty.


    Then he turned and walked away, finding a smile on his face.


    As if some divine revelation or power had been broken.


    William didn''t get it, and he didn''t particularly care. So long as they improved their lives, who was he to pass judgment.


    "Why did that prostitute once answer to the name Maius?" asked Felix.


    "Well," said Jehair. "It has become the custom for prostitutes in Antion to answer to the name of foreign goddesses. It keeps things impersonal, and I believe it was used to wedge the door open.


    "The only good reason a priest would have to go to a brothel would be an exorcism of some sort."


    "I''m sure that there are other reasons, but I take your point," said William, feeling disgusted now. There went his good mood. "So much for the glorious Realm of the Gods."


    "Not all gods subscribe to your ideal of holiness," said Jehair.


    "Elranor is the only god I have," said William.


    And so the tedious, boring dream continued, healing and driving out false priests. He even dealt with a few plague demons. William more and more began to feel as though he were someone else. A sort of self-righteous spirit that wished only to be rewarded. He didn''t know where such thoughts came from, so he attributed them to foreign influence.


    Could it be the influence of the Urishia? He''d heard rumors talking about him.


    Everything around him was foreign now. A different world, a different place he was never meant to come to. Or was never meant to come here for. Baltoth had probably been observing this from a dark tower and laughing the whole time. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Things have been getting better," said Felix suddenly.


    "Things have been getting better!" said William, incredulous. "Are you mad?! You pick now to start having a positive outlook on life?!"


    "I''m obligated to have something positive to say at some point," said Felix.


    "You don''t have a contract!" said William. "You could have quit our service anytime you wanted! And how are things getting better?"


    "Your name is in the ascent," said Felix. "Your political opposition is destroyed or eating itself alive. You have dismantled the decadent and useless systems of religion. All while still keeping the High Priest alive.


    "This ensures that he will discredit the old system long after you''ve taken power. That will buy the new system, set up by Atravain, time to flourish.


    "The warrior''s traditions of Harlenor are being resurrected in Antion. These skirmishes will prevent potential threats and prepare you for war. Harlenor is saved; it rises from the ashes of Rius burning as a phoenix of ancient Namina."


    "When we stand before a heavenly city with our enemies far behind and hope," said William. "Then I will share in that joy." He looked to Jehair, who was adjusting her hair. It seemed a slightly different hue.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "No, Massacre, we aren''t going to hurt anyone," said William. "I''ve had all I can take of that. We''re going to Brisgald."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "No more adventures," said William. "I want a nice visit with my extended family without any cities getting burned down. Is that so much to ask?"


    "You''d be surprised," laughed Felix.


    "Yes, it is an uncommonly usual occurrence," said Jehair. "Though less so than before, more''s the pity. I have never liked cities."


    William knew this statement was completely true. So why say it if not to emphasize the fact? He began to think she''d been much more involved in all this than before. And so they rounded the bend and saw Brisgald.


    It loomed over them like a dark and terrible tower worthy of any dark lord. The walls were as high as Father had described them. On the walls were many dark-clad warriors bearing arrows and swords. The skulls of the ornaments were all around, while the towers raised like a claw reaching to heaven.


    It would have been very menacing. But it was a bright, sunny day with no mist, and a farmer was bringing a shipment of hay to market. The buildings were all well made, and the people were well fed. Uncle had done his work well, though the hanging body of a murderer from the noose was disturbing.


    A guard stood by, and a very old sign was put up;


    "Hung on conviction of patricide," said the sign.


    So all was really as it should be. The underbrush had been well cut back from the road, so travelers need not fear ambush. And the area around the fortress was well maintained. As they walked, he saw many rows of apple trees, also guarded with a high fence around them. The guards were well-disciplined, for they kept a clear eye.


    And one man could be seen pruning such an apple tree. He had a long, blonde beard, and he wore a cap on his head. His garments were practical and brown, and he was strong limbed with two guards around him. At the base of the tree was leaning a huge war hammer.


    Then he looked up. "William?"


    William blinked. "Uncle Arthur?" He drew off his helm and let his hair fall around him. "How did you know?"


    At once, Arthur stepped down and nodded to a man nearby to take up his word. Then he moved forward and opened the gate. "The armor was described by Rusara''s letter. Although I must say, you arrived a bit later than I''d hoped. And you''re a bit taller.


    "What kept you?"


    "That is a story I can''t explain in one conversation," said William. "So I will just say ''Antion.''"


    Arthur laughed merrily and embraced him. William halted, shocked at the feeling of his uncle''s arms around him. It felt... good. Father never had this kind of physical affection with William.


    "Well, that is the usual problem," said Arthur. "I suspected trouble when Varsus arrived without any trouble at all. I''m afraid the boy is a bit too practical for his own good.


    "He needs to learn to be more of a people person. Fortunately, Reginald and Ham went with him, or they were going to meet Ham."


    "Many I have met have the opposite fault," said William. He''d heard about Ham Hawkthorne and didn''t understand what Varsus saw in him. The three had struck up a friendship in an inn and went on several quests together in the day.


    That was how Auga had joined them. Varsus had found her on one such quest.


    Arthur nodded. "Yes, Lord Rius was never one to oppose another, even when he ought to. I heard of what happened to him. He was in precisely the wrong job for his type, a port like Ascorn needs a hand of steel.


    "They should have given the position to House Korlac long ago. But I suppose the border with Sorn has always been more trouble. And trade has increased a great deal since your Father took Artarq. So perhaps Rius was simply out of his element."


    "We''ll never know now," said William. "This is Jehair."


    "We have met," said Arthur. "How have you been leading him?"


    "He wanted to go by all the worst paths," said Jehair. "Everyone would have preferred to take an easy route here. But he ended up going to virtually every village and losing a lot of money."


    "Everyone except me," said Arthur. "I have never tolerated the behavior that happened out there. Either among commoners or nobility.


    "A ruler ought to be stern about these things. Vanion tries to work with everyone, but there comes the point where you have to lay down the law or lose everything. That''s what happened with Rius. And this must be Felix, the invaluable companion, and friend."


    "Felix is a trusted companion, yes," said William. "Please do not put him in an inconvenient position."


    Arthur nodded. "Of course. Why don''t we dine at my castle, and we can discuss all this at length."


    They had not gotten far toward the gate when it opened. Into view came a brown-haired woman with freckles. She had a long sword at her side and was slim with no curves, a rare quality among Harlenorians. Coming forward, she looked out east, hardly noticing them as they approached.


    "Auga, Auga is that you?" asked William. "''You haven''t changed a bit.'' It seemed the only thing to say."


    "It''s natural William," said Auga. "Your skill with a blade had come to full flower. It''s good to see you."


    "You as well, Auga," said William.


    "And who are your companions?" asked Auga, rubbing her eyes. "I know Jehair, but the others... I can''t see. Is anyone coming down the road?"


    "They already did, Auga," said Arthur.


    "Ah, yes, right," said Auga. "I saw them earlier, but my sense of time was wrong. I thought today was yesterday. Who is your friend?"


    "This is Felix; he came into my employ after our last meeting, Uncle," said William. "He''s been a trusted friend through the worst of times. With us is Massacre, a friend and representative of Typhos."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "I''d heard you were constructing a temple to her," said Auga, turning to walk back.


    William walked after her.


    "Bah," said Massacre, urging him forward.


    "It is more of a dual temple, in honesty," said William, remembering Auga had no sense of etiquette. "It was originally to the Dreaming Goddess in recognition of her helping me. But I used an old temple to Typhos and refurbished it. Since Massacre is also a friend, I thought it best to let it stand for both."


    "A temple to two gods?" said Auga, picking up a book and reading it. "What if they fight?"


    "I imagine segregating the congregations might be useful," said William. "It did wonders for Haldren."


    "Haldren is old school," said Auga.


    "That''s not entirely a bad thing, Auga," said Arthur.


    "Last of all, there is Jehair, a servant of the Flower Maiden," said William. "She seems to have already met everyone, however."


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    "We have met. Briefly," said Jehair.


    "I don''t care about her," said Auga, flipping the book. "Not relevant."


    William looked to Jehair apologetically. Auga always had been too forward for her own good. Then again, who would be foolish enough to call her on it.


    "Well, whatever the case, you are welcome with us," said Arthur. "I''m sure Vorn will be glad to hear from you."


    "Is Varsus here?" asked William.


    "You missed him," said Auga. "He''s already gotten ahead of you to the Tournament of Kings. That alongside Reginald De Chevlon."


    "I would have gone, but I''d have had an unfair advantage," said Arthur wistfully. "To say nothing of Auga''s advantages."


    "Well, I''ll be sure to give them your regards," said William. "Have you been well, Uncle?"


    "Well, my injuries pain me, but I''ve had much good work to distract from it," said Arthur, looking about the courtyard. William looked with him and saw before him that the courtyard was busy. Many shipments were being moved into the granary. "Gwendoven is very well also. How is my rascal of a brother?"


    "Looking more the part of a Sorcerer King by the day," said William.


    "Well, that is how he would have liked it," said Arthur. "Not the best swordmaster, but good with a spear and his hands. And he took no pleasure in either."


    "To tell you the truth, Father has been odd lately," said William sadly. "After the Khasmir Campaign, he''s spent a lot of time in his study. He''s giving his seal when he isn''t meeting with officials or dining with Mother and me. Yet there isn''t nearly enough things in need of his approval.


    "He''s given me many more responsibilities. Yet something seems to be drawing all his attention. It''s like he''s fighting a battle, but the enemy can''t be seen."


    "We all fight battles like that, lad," said Arthur, looking out the gate. Jehair was in it. "They''re the most dangerous because we don''t always know they are happening. But I''m sure he''ll have time once all this settles down. About your friend, uh, Tanith..."


    "That''s what has dragged me down here," said William.


    "Ah," said Arthur. Tanith had a few personality flaws.


    "Negotiations and reparations," said Auga, nearly finished with her book.


    "Something like that," said William, not knowing what to do with himself. "Is anyone in need of healing?"


    "My priests are already tending to them," said Arthur.


    Auga finished her book, shut it, and stood up. "Wielding a sword is an interesting means of hunting, I will say.


    "Where did you get that scar?" Apparently, it wasn''t in his book. Which it was.


    William paused. "Well, there''s a long story behind that."


    "Let''s tell it over a meal if you have not eaten," said Arthur. "Vorn is out organizing the grain shipments to Antion with Isabel. An important task, if inglorious. I''m afraid the boy enjoys it a little too much for his own good." Vorn was much older than William.


    "That would be nice," said William.


    It felt heavenly to get new clothes. The old, dirtied rags from the road were shed alongside his armor. He was able to wash himself in a tub instead of a cloth and rinse out her hair. By the time he was done, he felt like a new man.


    Uncle gave him new white garment to wear and wore them gladly. Massacre went off to hunt, understanding by now the rules of hunting on a Lord''s landing. Arthur told her which animals were off-limits, and she listened in a bored tone before loping off.


    And at last, William saw Gwendoven.


    "William," said Gwendover. "I''ve heard a great deal about you lately."


    "Yes," said William. "I was looking forward to coming to Brisgald someday. The people here seem well-taken care of."


    "Well, we had our work cut out for us," said Arthur. "Borinius ran the place into the ground. Everyone else in that conspiracy got off with hardly any trouble. But the people here were starving.


    "The first rule of running any country is that people need to eat. If people are starving, they cannot fight, they cannot think. They can''t solve their own problems. And worst of all, they will do anything to stop starving. So if your people are starving, you have failed as a ruler."


    William suddenly felt very bleak as he considered this. A sense of depression he could not explain hit him hard. And he suddenly felt as if he were not among friends but around vicious enemies. "...I suppose some would say that the mark of a good ruler is that they would be starving."


    "What do you mean?" asked Arthur.


    William felt short of breath. "I merely put myself in the mind of an evil man. An evil man who only cared about keeping his power intact might regard starvation not as a failure but as an asset. All you would need to do is make everyone blame each other for the starvation instead of you.


    "Or you could keep a particular group of people well-fed and use their desperation."


    "Well, that is very much what Borinius was doing," said Arthur. "Though I don''t think there exists a man evil enough to do that directly. For such a system to work. You would need to be fully aware of what was being done and its consequence.


    "More than that, you need access to an extensive Empire that you could keep in control. It would require constant paranoia, and your lieutenants would turn on you."


    "Not if you executed them first," said Auga. "Just kill them constantly and shift them out. You could make it work if you are supplanting people and leave none alive to seek vengeance."


    "Again," said Arthur sadly.


    "This always happens," said Gwendoven.


    "What does?" asked William.


    "No matter what we do," said Gwendoven. "Whenever we have guests over, the conversation always turns grim. It''s a quirk of the place like Brisgald resents the way we took it."


    "We didn''t take it, Gwen," said Arthur. "It was given into our hands as a reward for exemplary service. But unfortunately, Borinius discredited himself by base treason. We were granted it instead.


    "Brisgald likes to remind us of the fact.


    "Personally, I like it. It helps me remember the darker side of the nobility and keep myself from falling into it. I wouldn''t be nearly as good a ruler without these conversations." Another tinge of resentment. "Although Brisgald resents that too."


    Laughter, and it was dispelled.


    "Am I late," said Vorn as he came in. "I just came in from organizing the grain shipments. They''ve all been sent out for the year. Though the year hasn''t been nearly as good as usual.


    "Can''t imagine why."


    Vorn has slicked-back black hair and slight stubble. His eyes were gentle, but his wrists were slim, and he didn''t look comfortable with the blade he wore. It was a formality he kept with him out of obligation. William remembered he''d always liked Vorn, but he''d never looked up to him like Varsus or Raynald.


    He didn''t know why. Grain shipments were vital. Regular supplies had to be made to Antion and other cities, or they would starve. Andoa''s grain dole was essential to feeding the people without work.


    "No, you''re not late Vorn," said Arthur. "Although perhaps you should put a bit more focus on military aspects. Things seem to be going to a dark place right now.


    "Where is Isabel?"


    "I''ll keep it in mind, Dad," said Vorn. "She''s still in the Hand of Anoa, setting things up."


    That term again?


    Kiyora used it to refer to his Father; it seemed like a quirk of off-worlders. The term had a lack of respect in it, and William refused to ever use it. His Father was to be respected and obeyed. "Vorn, it has been some time."


    Vorn looked at him and then took off his long coat and hung it on a rack. Surely the servants could handle that. "William, William, is that you?


    "I didn''t recognize you with that scar and such? How have you been."


    He offered a hand, and William took it before Vorn sat down across from him, too informal. But Arthur had no problem with it, and William must respect his host. "Things have been going... passably.


    "We managed to stalemate the Calishans at Savior''s Run. And we stopped Melchious cold in Khasmir. Seathorius is ruled by Arraxia and Kiyora, who are... intelligent and creative, and both preferable to Melchious. Arraxia, however, can''t be relied on for saving insofar as it amuses her, and Kiyora takes no one''s side.


    "She could be on our opponent''s side if she viewed it as the right thing to do."


    "Isn''t that a good thing," said Vorn.


    "Not for us," said William. "There is a righteous cause out there with our name on it. If we submit to everyone with a grievance against us, the wicked will inherits the earth."


    "Fair enough," said Vorn with a laugh. "How''s Gel Carn?"


    "At present, it is unoccupied," said William. "Mother followed me to Artarq, and her main lieutenant went with her. So we have no enemies, and Edmund Telus has guaranteed assistance.


    "The only person who could invade would be King Gavin."


    "Which wouldn''t happen since you work for him," said Vorn. "Things have been going pretty out here. Dad and Varsus have dealt with the bandits out here. They''ve all gone off to Blackfear or moved north toward Atravain''s territory."


    Arthur considered this. "No one has fought a Blackguard in some time, William. I did it ten years ago. They are not very common because their souls are usually claimed by demons if they win. To hand one over to Dunmoore is almost a sign of fealty."


    "It wasn''t intended as such," said William. "I just wanted him locked away and interrogated. He was deep in the councils of whoever was running all this."


    Arthur looked to Gwendoven, then back to William. Vorn looked uncomfortable. William halted.


    "You mean, Dunmoore is part of it?" asked William, not sure what to think of it.


    "Not part so much as oversight," said Arthu. "He was tasked to reign in the Thieves Guild Council. However, it was a ceremonial position. If House Korlac and the other nobility could reign them in, there would be no council to begin with.


    "But the nobility made a collective decision or many decisions." Jehair shifted, and Arthur looked to her then back. "To not punish crime. Because nobles have economic privileges, many used them for personal gain. Lord John Korlac launched many investigations, but they were shut down.


    "And once the nobles were all cheating, everyone else started cheating to compete. Even the honest nobles like House Marn had to do it to survive."


    "Where were we during this?" asked William.


    "Many different places," said Arthur. "Escor, Gel Carn, the satyrs in the Black Marsh were always a threat and Hadleim was in the flower of his career. Raynald did some raiding of Calishan shores with Rusara as well. All this didn''t take days, it took years of consistent effort and it was nasty and long. Even after your Father got back from Themious it went on for a bit.


    "And it''s still going on. It''s all too complicated to explain in a single sitting, like most things."


    "How?" asked William.


    Arthur paused. "Well, I invited John Korlac to dinner, and we decided we would use any necessary means to restore order.


    "And we did. Although the rate of hangings has decreased a great deal. The gallows out there are important. They remind me of what I have done, and they remind the populace of what they ought not to do."


    "It''s nasty," said Vorn. "And it happened."


    "Second time," said Auga, who was reading again. "You arrived late."


    "It seemed to have worked better for us than Kafka''s solution," said William. "Atravain has been having serious problems. Though Luke Atravain has gone into action, and Dunmoore is present. So things may work out there."


    "At least he didn''t let nature take its course," said Vorn. He was almost looking to Jehair, though she did not mark it. "Like Rius, I mean."


    It was obvious, really.


    "So, to make a long story short," said Arthur. "The thieves have far too much influence, and Dunmoore might be under their influence. Though I dare say, the witnesses will ensure his cooperation.


    "Now, why don''t we speak of what you''ve been up to, William."


    And William did explain.


    It was a very long story by now. William had gotten a bit tired of telling it, but he went through it as efficiently as possible. Vorn was interested in the women more than William liked. But he asked many questions about forges and such. And how many weapons a given place could produce. Or how much cattle a given area had.


    William tried to answer and often had to rely on Felix for an answer. Father had taught him all this, but it had slipped his mind.


    Arthur took an interest in battles, the strategies, and the swordplay. Gwendoven seemed more interested in politics and the rise of Arraxia. He also told how Vanion had consolidated control. Vorn asked for specific troop numbers and this William did remember, as well as a lot about logistics.


    Auga looked bored through all of it.


    "Surely this was in my books," said William.


    Silence.


    "Hasn''t anyone read my books," said William. "I sent all of you a copy."


    "Well, I gather a lot of people in Antion are reading them," said Arthur. "And a lot of people in Ascorn. And a good many other places, now that reading has become so common, and the printing press is in full operation. But uh...


    "No, I haven''t found the time."


    "We''ve got time now," said Vorn.


    So William had to go through the entire story. The tale of the battle with the Dark Dreamer and Kiyora''s world was interesting to Arthur. Apparently, he had been off-world and to several other places. But they were all high towers of steel with smoke and gaudy lights, and he''d never wanted to go back.


    "It''s a kind of pleasure house," said Arthur. "Members of the Demoration have been trying to rope the nobility into their lifestyle. So I was invited with several others.


    "But the elites of the Demoration don''t seem to do anything other than drink and steal."


    "They''ve got some really nice systems," said Vorn. "They can move things over long distances very quickly. Of course, those machines don''t work at all in this world or worlds like it.


    "Those operate on a different set of principles. But recent events have let them make experimental crossings into our world."


    "Could they be behind the thieves?" asked William.


    Arthur halted. "Well, I don''t doubt some people from the Demoration are involved in it. But from what I understand, it is a very poorly organized world. Or series of worlds, information is limited.


    "But the High Priest Cirithil enjoyed it and gave positions of influence in the church. However, Vorn was given direction in life by his time there and trade systems. That''s one of the reasons they are so friendly with our enemies.


    "Ultimately, they are simply people. Like us, they have evildoers, heroes, and demons; they just take a different form. And I won''t pass judgment on the whole place just because a few of them did something to wrong me.


    "Now, I believe we must get to your adventures here."


    And William explained those too.


    This was more recent and of much more interest than the others. His battle with Lamech was of particular interest to everyone. And the accounts of his battle of wits with Tavish Kern and the others were well-appreciated. On the other hand, throwing the priests out of the temple was something met with indifference.


    "Don''t you care?" asked William. "We''ve probably just bankrupted the church."


    "The church has solid gold statues all over the temple," said Vorn. "They never use it for anything. The High Priest bought his position after killing his Father before he could be disowned. Then he embezzled everything he could."


    "He murdered his Father?" asked William in horror. Patricide? Would Cirithil have really stooped that low?


    "Vorn, that is a scandalous accusation," said Arthur.


    "Nobody proved anything," admitted Vorn with a shrug. "But his Father was a man of the gods, and a friend of High Priest Alonsus. Cirithil was a spineless good for nothing from the start. There were rumors he was going to be disinherited when Magnar died suddenly.


    "So did a lot of other people who might have stopped him. I went with him to Kadan; he spent the whole time whoring and gambling. Didn''t give a damn about the transportation or how they built those towers. It was all gaudy lights.


    "And after he got the position, he whored out the church. Took bribes like crazy and went to Demos a lot. And a lot of women started coming in from there, taking the names of certain goddesses. Using buildings which nobody could tell how they were funded. If you have bankrupted him, it''s no more than he deserves."


    "For my part, I am a Haldrenian by birth," said Arthur. "I adhere to the old ways."


    "So this Arraxia," said Vorn. "Is she your rival?"


    "I wouldn''t classify us as rivals," said William. "More unwanted acquaintances that try to kill one another. Who work together now and then."


    "Then does that make Lamech a rival?" asked Vorn.


    "Surely not," said Gwendoven.


    "No," said William, crossing his arms and looking away. "He is a murderer and a criminal.


    Arthur sighed in good humor, straightening his beard. "Well, I suppose something has to go wrong for our world to exist. In another world, House Gabriel would be depraved usurpers. They were plotting the overthrow of the good King I pretend to be."


    Why had he never felt this way with Father?


    It was nice.

 Chapter Seven: The True Princess

    The game was only starting in the next room, where Arkan''s men were playing cards with prostitutes. They drank beer from metal cans from offworld, laughed, and smoked.


    All of this was in direct violation of Father''s orders. So Father was going to kill all of these men before the day was out. Soldiers from Duke Letan and the Paladins of Lord Dunmoore had come in while they drank. These were veterans of the Khasmir campaign. He''d ordered all guards to report to him for duty, and some among them had.


    The rest were here, drinking themselves into a stupor and making themselves vulnerable. When the attack came, there would be no time to react.


    Ansara only prayed that none of the courtesans would be hurt. They didn''t deserve to die because of these politics.


    The disruption caused by House Atravain was exactly what they had been waiting for.


    Now they were starting to gather strength to secure the borders and really work at things. And knocking them out of complacency had damaged the Thieves Guild more than any loss of money could. Arrests of the worst offenders had been made, and Peter Bailey had become a heroic martyr. A man dying to save Antion.


    Some spoke of giving him sainthood.


    Luke Atravain and his friends were likewise hailed as heroes. All to distract from the fact that foreigners were running roughshod over them.


    Well, Ansara was not going to let the crisis go to waste.


    And if she started a fight here on her own, Father could dismiss the action as covering for his stupid daughter. They hadn''t talked about this, but she''d learned of their growing power and seen all the alcohol sent in.


    Thus her ''friendship'' with Spinal.


    The dream faded.


    "I really hate that woman," said Ansara.


    "Who?" asked Spinal. "Ansara is living in a dream world, but she''s not evil.


    "I mean my Mother. She walked out on Father the second she realized he wasn''t going to let her run everything. She assumed that he was a doormat and weak because he didn''t speak much and was generally useful. The bitch thought that she''d be able to be Queen of Antion.


    "But when Father proved to have authority she abandoned us." Ansara halted. "Why are we doing this now?"


    "Arkan has left," said Spinal. "He''s gone off for a business meeting with Tavish. In Castle Blackfear. Tavish is cutting a deal with House Gabriel, and Rius is dead." Oh good, Rius was dead.


    Now they could finally replace him with someone halfway decent.


    "What about Lamech?" asked Ansara, thinking about him. "He was the demonic observer on the Thieves Council. Where is he?"


    "In prison," said Spinal in amusement. "Dunmoore went rogue and threw him there. The two don''t like one another." An understatement of the century.


    "So he''s on our side," said Ansara.


    "Lamech killed off most of his Bretusian contacts," said Spinal. "The only ones left are Suran and Gavkin, and both of those are out of favor."


    "So, what is Lamech doing here?" asked Ansara.


    "Gabriel beat him in single combat for the Atravain sisters," said Spinal. "I guess they decided he''d outlived his usefulnes. They gave her to Dunmoore as a peace offering. Dunmoore brought him here, and I was able to get Lamech to the dungeons without anyone knowing.


    "As of this moment, your Father can move completely unchecked. And so can you. But we can''t hold Lamech. The second Arkan gets back, he will spring him or have him killed. He can''t let you keep someone who knows this much about him. So that means you either have to kill now or turn him loose in exchange for information."


    "I know that beer came from the Demoration," said Ansara. "Only they produce those cans. So it came from one of their backers. So how do they fit into this?"


    "The Demoration has been trying to get influence by moving people into Antion. Mostly through Bretus. They put them in positions that do not have any innate connection to local politics. But they do everything by proxy using people they have in their pocket.


    "Their main representative is a woman named Chun Xi. Sort of a minor Naminaen Goddess, her nation is dependent on them for survival. But she has no official rank and is here for her own reasons. But if they need something done, Chun Xi takes care of it using her connections.


    "Cirithil is one of those connections. He started all those brothels with Demoration money funneled through Xan Corp. It''s a Demoration company pretending to be a regional operation on the world of Kadan."


    "Can they trust Chun Xi?" asked Ansara.


    "They can''t trust anyone," said Spinal. "But they don''t have to. They have no skin in the game.


    "Harlenorian politics is about personal relationships and violence. If you are an important person in Harlenor, you are responsible. Important people in the Demoration are all about avoiding responsibility.


    "There isn''t a single Demoration citizen down on this world. They won''t come here until they are certain they can do it with personal legality in their own place. Everything is a proxy of a proxy."


    "Which we''ll need to lure them here to kill them," said Ansara.


    "One thing at a time, kid," said Spinal with a smile. "We have to get information from Lamech, then set him loose. And you have to release him."


    "Why?" asked Ansara.


    "Because Lamech is one of Arkan''s buddies," said Spinal. "One of the higherups.


    "If he is killed, then Arkan will take it as a direct attack. He can''t let you start executing people on his level, or he might be next. Kill Lamech, and he''ll have all of your murder in self-defense and then cover it up.


    "You don''t have to power to fight Arkan directly right now. You aren''t ready.


    "Now, your Father could release him. But if he did, then it would be a major show of weakness. If you, his stupid and naive daughter, did it while getting some information, Arkan would laugh it off. Everyone will be angry at you, but Bor won''t look bad.


    "Bor is discredited, but he is not discredited. We need Arkan to think you''re still wearing a collar so you can savage him later."


    "The guards in the dungeons are under Arkan''s control," said Ansara. "Or at least not mine."


    "Which is why I''m going to help you," said Spinal. "I need you as a front, and you need me as muscle."


    "Good," said Ansara. "Today the thieves, tomorrow the Demoration."


    Spinal paused. "You realize that directly hitting the Demoration could be a bad idea. If you lose them a lot of money on purpose or kill off their CEOs, they will try to wipe you out. So a direct invasion might not be an option, but that hate losing money."


    "I don''t care," said Ansara. "Whatever this Demoration is, it has tried to control my nation. My Grandfather sleeps alone in a gilded prison, unable to walk the streets he paved. My Father is disregarded as a boring man in a tedious job because he cannot leave this place. I cannot visit either or spend any real time with them because of this vicious foreigner.


    "They have entered my home, appointed themselves the Supreme Lords of my country. And now they treat me as a spoiled brat because I dare to be unhappy with their behavior.


    "These invaders must be taught a harsh lesson in the ways of Urishia Hospitality."


    Urishia Hospitality did not exist.


    The Clan had long operated from the shadows and never lived in any one place for long. If you accepted the hospitality of an Urishia, they had control of your house. And the Demoration had little understanding of how to use that control.


    Spinal smiled for the first time, pleased she had read up on it. It wasn''t exactly a nice smile, you wouldn''t want to see it in a dark ally. "Perfect."


    The journey to the dungeon took them by several abandoned and crumbling stairs. Going down a flight, they came to a door, and at it was a man in leather with a spear. Men could be heard playing dice further on.


    "Hold where you are, Princess," said the guard. "This place is off-limits."


    "By whose authority?" asked Spinal.


    "Lamech," said the guard. "Who else?"


    "He is a prisoner," said Ansara. "And no orders were given that he be given back his authority. He killed two paladins and attacked a scion of House Gabriel.


    "Open this door."


    "I don''t obey your instructions, you stupid brat," said the guard. "You''re family is out of power. Arkan has this place run now, and you don''t have authority. So just go back to pretending you know what you''re doing, you pathetic royal puppet.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    "Lamech is running this place from his jail cell."


    Spinal''s sword lashed out and slashed his throat with one movement. The blood-spattered from the wound in spurts. The man gurgled as he fell to the ground, and Nel grabbed his arm and drove a blade between his armpit into his heart.


    Taking the key from the guard, he unlocked the door.


    Inside, Ansara saw several guards lounging about. They stood up in shock. Lamech''s armor was propped up on the wall, with his sword leaning there as well. It had reappeared there as though by magic. "What the..." They saw the body behind them.


    "That man defied royal authority," said Spinal. "Out, now."


    They looked and then filed out the door. So long as Ansara was judged toothless, they''d felt willing to look the other way. Now that she could kill and have support, they were not in a hurry to defy her. Criminals were a cowardly lot.


    As the two moved past, Spinal slashed them across the throat in two quick strikes. Two more stabs finished them, and Ansara stared. "Why was that necessary?"


    "The truce is off," said Spinal. "These men would have alerted people. Leaving them alive will see more coming down here."


    Ansara found Lamech''s cell and saw him sitting at the far end without a table, looking no less impressive. It was as though he were resting, but his glowing yellow eyes were wide open. And he was writing in a series of books with his quill. Somehow, he had gotten his armor and sword back. As though it were tied to him by power.


    "Spinal," said Ansara. "I need a sword." Spinal gave her the dead guard''s sword. Then he raised the blade he''d used. "It''s important to me. It belonged to my Father."


    Ansara took it, supposing it was understandable. They would not be able to see one another much after this was over. The door was almost opened.


    "Good luck," said Spinal.


    Ansara considered things. "Spinal, get your men and get rid of the guards to Lamech and Arkan. Give them one warning and order them out of the palace in my name. If they don''t do it, kill them and say it is responding to an attempted coup by Lamech.


    "I want everyone violating my Father''s directives in this palace dead. Then track down the people they got their business from. I want Father to have that information."


    "As you wish," said Spinal.


    The door opened, and Ansara walked in to find Lamech still writing. "How did you subvert those men?"


    "Arkan has long made preparations in case he has to stay the night in a cell," said Lamech, writing a last sentence. "All of the prison guards work for him. Various individuals were wronged by royal orders. Bitter and rebellious kinds.


    "But, he could not prepare for me being imprisoned. Since they know I work for him, they won''t let you do anything to me. However, you can simply say these men worked for me.


    "Now that they are dead, they cannot counteract you."


    "If Arkan thought it was out of their character, he might know," said Ansara.


    "He might suspect," said Lamech, finishing and putting down the book. "But he suspects a great deal. From his own angle, it would be far more likely that I planned this. Perhaps in conspiracy with Spinal?


    "Think of me as a kind of infernal middleman. And their books are for you."


    Ansara had no intention of asking just yet. Or going near him, and she tried to control her racing heart. "I''m told William caught you in your own trap."


    "He did," said Lamech. "I wouldn''t call him a rival, but he has graduated beyond mere irritation. I will enjoy killing him as a stepping stone to Dunmoore."


    "That is your own affair," said Ansara. "But you can''t do it if you''re locked up."


    "Are you going to release me?" asked Lamech.


    "Lord Dunmoore wants you hung before Arkan gets back," said Ansara. "But he will defer to royal judgment. So my Father cannot release you without losing any credibility. But I don''t have any credibility.


    "But I think I have a better use for you, and I think you want to cause misery and horror for your fellows."


    "...Go on," said Lamech.


    "I need names and evidence," said Ansara. "Write down everything you know about every criminal operation, and I may release you."


    "They''re already done," said Lamech.


    Ansara looked down in surprise. He''d started selling out his companions before he got the offer. He could have walked out of here at any time. "Why?"


    "I have no love for my family," said Lamech. "The wheat has been grown. Everything is in place for the reaping."


    "Good," said Ansara. "You will go to Castle Blackfear and hunt undead."


    "And how will you compel me to do this?" asked Lamech.


    "You have little choice," said Ansara. "Your goal lies in Harlenor. To the east is the Sea of Power. South is House Korlac, who are immensely efficient and will hang you in a heartbeat. You can''t go back because Dunmoore will be hunting you.


    "Your only other option is Seathorius, where you will be caught between all your enemies. And with you will be satyrs and allies of House Gabriel. The King''s Road is well patrolled, and while you could slaughter the patrols, you''d draw a lot of attention. Blackfear, however, is dangerous and infested by vampires. So no one will care if you begin hunting people there.


    "And since Arkan is there, it may allow you to murder him. If revenge is what you are after. I''m going to leave the cell open.


    "You can do what you want. Just remember that if you harm any innocents on your way out, you''ll be dead before you ever get there."


    Stepping forward, she picked up the books, conscious that Lamech could kill her with one hand. Ansara backed out of the room slowly, then shut the door. Looking around, she couldn''t see how he could have gotten the books. The guards wouldn''t have had any. Then she saw the black man had broken the mortar on one wall.


    "You had them hidden in the wall," said Ansara. "But why this cell?"


    "They are in every cell," said Lamech. "Arkan is a thief. And there is no honor among thieves."


    Ansara backed out of the cell as quickly as she could. Then she looked down the hall to see Lamech''s armor lying there and his sword as well. "I''m going to keep these.


    "Your armor is down that hall, as is your sword. Leave Antion now. If you stay, I''ll hang you. I have more than enough reason.


    "And if even a single name is a lie, and I will find out, you''ll have it worse than a hanging."


    "You''re taking this very well," said Lamech as he stood up.


    "House Gabriel is bringing order," said Anara. "What I need is chaos. Then, you can sew that chaos. No innocent deaths, or this alliance is over."


    Then she sprinted away in terror, stepping over the bodies. She rushed through the door and slammed it shut. Gasping to breathe, she put down the books and grabbed the key from the guard''s belt. Locking it shut, she doubted it would stop Lamech. So she threw aside the sword and keys, picked up the books, and ran.


    Ansara rushed out of the dungeons and up into the old wing of the palace. Gasping for breath, she realized how terrified she had been. Stumbling on, she reflected they could have kept this crumbling mortar maintained. At least, they could if it weren''t for the officials who stole everything.


    But now, she had what she needed.


    So she raced off, and behind her, the door was kicked off its hinges in splinters. She ran blindly for a time and eventually came to Father''s old office.


    It was still well-furnished, and the bookcases were practically spilling. He''d read all of them a hundred times when he was young. In the old days, she''d lain on the floor reading while he read above. But she only came here very occasionally.


    How old was Lamech? S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It didn''t matter. Prince Bor had kept this place maintained or one of the servants. And sitting down at the desk, she saw an open book. It was a history of crime and punishment in Antion. And to convict nobles, you needed, by precedent, at least four credible witnesses. Either that or incriminating documents by their own hands.


    One of the conditions of the Thieves Guild set up was that they had to keep a permenant record. Ansara had no idea if they followed the guides. But she had read the books. And quickly opened the desk that had long since been cleaned out. If a servant cleaned this place, they would not check the desk.


    It would be suicide. Father would know.


    So, Ansara opened the desk and piled the books into the empty case. Then, taking another, she read it. Lamech had a beautiful hand of writing, flowery and yet cruel. And reading through it, it was like a story. A terrible story of murder, deceit, and brutality, not the sort anyone would want to read.


    He seemed to have been chronicling the murders and atrocities of the underground. The worst ones happened despite Arkan, and it seemed that Arkan removed the worst actors. Even so, the atrocities never stopped, and Lamech had personally been a part of many of them.


    The account detailed how he smothered an old woman to death to take the money she had stolen from him. Next, he''d cut the throat of a thief who tried to steal a piece of bread from a street. Then he''d left him to bleed out. Arkan was his adopted Father.


    Seriously?


    They had never demonstrated any difference in their relationship from anyone else. It was a purely political arrangement. But to what end? Lamech seemed to have been very brutal enforced for Arkan. He ruined men with expert finesse. He exposed their darkest secrets and destroyed their fortunes. From there, their families were made destitute.


    All of them had done something to deserve it; Lamech always had a reason. These two men were poisoned because they broke a deal. It was horrifying and yet, in a terrible way, beautiful. She spent hours reading those dark and horrible tomes. She was watching the lives of sinners consumed one by one.


    Including High Priest Cirithil''s Father. He was minor nobility of House Magnar, a distant cousin to Lord Caskav.


    Not expecting any inheritance, Cirithil had opted to have his Father murdered. Then the will was changed. Money that would have gone to the church went instead to buying himself. Yet the money listed here, meticulously chronicled, could not have been enough. So Cirithil was getting his money from somewhere else.


    Hawkthorne would be the normal place to look, but he had no interest in the church. It didn''t make a profit. Korlac hated Cirithil with a passion. House Gabriel''s altercation proved there was no involvement. Even if William hadn''t been around for the arrangement, he would surely have been given him as an ally. And Vanion would not have had the money for that until after he got Artarq.


    And by all accounts, his spending had been used to improve the colony. Nobody had that kind of money to burn, especially on someone as useless as Cirithil. Vanion picked subordinates he could rely on and destroyed them. He was using Elranor as a tool for his own power. No, it was not him.


    Atravain?


    No, Kafka would have been High Priest if he hadn''t been so insane. So clearly, there was no love lost there. Could Cirithil be involved in criminal activity? Looking back through the book, Ansara noted that she recognized a few names. A priest who had spoken out against corruption in the church was killed by Lamech. It had been for undercutting the authority of the healers guild. Ansara had only heard that he had been murdered.


    Cirithil had then used that death to justify handing control over to the Healer''s Guild. Even as he invested in secret on the side into it with fortunes from investments in prostitution. He''d also put immense finances into the malas trade. After all, all semblance of performing his duties had faded. Could Lamech be his agent in all this?


    No, Lamech was an agent of evil. Not an agent of Cirithil.


    But Lamech''s masters might well benefit from the destruction of Elranor''s faith. Ansara had never exactly been religious, but she was disgusted by Cirithil''s actions. Perhaps foreign demonic powers had rewarded him for disgracing his religion. Looking on, she began to pick out a thread.


    It looked like Lamech had always had a good reason to help Cirithil without meeting with him. There was no record of payment, actually. As if he wanted to propel him to a high place.


    Many of these people were rich commoners. Lamech was deliberately destroying the commoners who might damage the noble class. Others were taken as slaves and thrown into prison. Tavish''s operations were thus a kind of safety valve. To what end?


    All of them had done an evil deed of some sort and directly crossed Lamech''s interests. Yet each one had suffered a grisly fate; you could hardly help but feel sorry for them. And there was a merchant named Lilas, who seemed to always be a buyer or seller without being involved. Ansara remembered he worked as a financier.


    The Demoration, perhaps? There were mentions of several agents and contacts. But they were middlemen from other worlds. Bretus and Namina. She didn''t know enough about them to guess. Spinal was not reliable.


    Lamech wrote of someone named Chun Xi, who apparently operated a large number of brothels. Apparently, he had killed off several Bretusian merchants on her behalf. Though she insisted on clean kills. She was from Namina, yes? The Empire that claimed Ancient Namina had only been a colony.


    Was it cover for some sort of takeover?


    Then again, Namina had fallen on very hard times. Chun Xi might be trying to limit Bretus'' influence by murder. She''d done several of the deeds herself. Ansara was neither for nor against this. Bretus has a brutal reputation, and mercenaries had come through some of the portals to seek work.


    Both were part of a Demoration world but were not of the Demoration.


    What was the goal here? Lamech didn''t seem to be driving at anything but advancing interests at random by murder. He seemed to be more or less loyal to Tavish, whom he spoke of with respect. Yet that was likely just pragmatism since he needed a benefactor.


    Or was the goal so simple that no one could see it? The total destruction of Antion as a nation. All of these actions could potentially destabilize the county. Alienating Bretus could lead to an invasion later. Helping foreign influence weakened their ability to project power. Propping up Cirithil discredited the faith.


    Evil for its own sake.


    He really had been doing it all out of simple spite.


    Putting the book away, Ansara realized she was alone in a room with only one exit. The window was too high up to escape by. In a panic, she raced out of the door and returned to her room. Finding a servant girl sweeping there, Ansara tapped her on the shoulder.


    "Yes?" said the girl. "Princess Ansara?"


    "I want you to go out and start a rumor that John Korlac has been called to take control of Antion," said Ansara. "Get the others to do it too. I want to hear people talking about it from the balconies.


    "Go at once."


    "Yes, milady," said the girl.


    And she raced off, pausing only to put the broom away. Father would notice the disruption to the servants. And if the rumor was spread, it might disrupt whatever business Arkan had. It would also throw him off the scent.


    What now?


    Well, the books were useless on their own. Even so, they confirmed much of what Spinal had said. Lamech made a note of Xan Corp at several points as a supplier, yet he seemed to regard them as demonic puppets. A person like Lamech would know.


    But which demon?


    But, if she could be another witness with as much knowledge, she could use that. It could be enough to force Tavish and Arkan to give them their people, then House Korlac could clean up this place.


    Obviously, a lot of those responsible would get off, but Ansara was responsible in a way too.


    But what if someone found those books? She might well have been. So she kneeled in her room and prayed. "Elranor, I don''t like talking to you. But if those books are found, Antion is going to be owned by Thieves Forever.


    "This is your holy city.


    "Start acting like it. And don''t let anyone get those books until the time is right."


    It was all she could think to say. They''d been left high and dry while the knights were off having the time of their lives. It was taken for granted that Prince Bor was a nobody. But nobody had seen him hunched over a desk, measuring everything. He, at least, had never taken bribes.


    He, at least, had never socialized with the slime of this city.


    House Gabriel had mocked him by expressing public sentiment in William''s books. The casual dismissal of him as an explanation to a Goddess. It had riled Ansara, and yet it had driven her into action at last. She''d vowed then that she would not let it end there, with her as a mere bargaining chip.


    Perhaps she should thank William.


    Then again, if things didn''t go well, she and her Father would soon be dead. So what she owed him was up for debate. She only hoped she could fix this without having to sell her birthright as a reward to a Chosen One.


    It was time for her to begin practicing with her sword.


    The next encounter with Lamech would not be so easy.


    So how did she handle this? Well, William always recorded his adventures; Jaina had made that clear. So he''d compile it when he got back home. If she wrote all this down and sent an account to him, they could use it to force the nobles into line. If even a fraction of what had been done here got out, it would discredit their entire government.


    Yet the mere presence of it would be valuable.


    Vanion knew not to release such a thing, but he already had the information. By sending her account, it could help salvage her own reputation in case it leaks. And it might give Father some bargaining power.


    It wasn''t as if anyone in House Gabriel was ruthless and mad enough to release the documentation. Rusara would never do it, and Raynald always deferred to Vanion''s wishes. But, even without that, his advancement required the good graces of House De Chevlon.


    Only House De Chevlon hated him. His own generation had mistreated him, and his success had bought him only jealousy. Saphra De Chevlon might have been Baroness but was a puppet, only in charge of slaves. She and Raynald would make a logical alliance. A political marriage between William and her would be smart.


    No, Raynald would never go behind Vanion''s back like that. They were completely loyal to one another; everyone agreed on that. And there was no good reason to do it since there were other means to revenge.


    But if Raynald were to end up in charge of Artarq, and he were given reason to believe House Gabriel might be destroyed before they got back...


    Raynald would release the books as a parting shot.


    If he thought House Gabriel had been destroyed or even betrayed while off in some other business, he''d do it. But Vanion was conservative, and William quite competent. So what sequence of events could warrant the entire house leaving the colony?


    Nothing Ansara could think of.


    And she had to take the gamble. So she wrote it all down and hoped no one would be stupid enough to corner the rattlesnake. Who was she fooling? They would.


    By the end of the day, the palace guard was purged. First, Prince Bor rotated in prepared replacements. Then he cited fear that his daughter might come to harm.


    The cage was broken.


    Now came the plans for revenge.

 Chapter Eight: Tef Lock

    It had been a wonderful time with his uncle, reflected William. Well worth the wait.


    They had passed beyond the twin hills of Anoa''s Stand. On them, Anoa had held his position for a week against two hosts of satyrs and goblins. That had been before he broke with Alchara in ancient days. Their names were Ictorath and Benar. On Benar in the northwest of Antion, he had smashed one host. Then, moving south to Ictaroth, he defeated the others in the south. The mossy rises had been defended almost completely by humans.


    If memory served, Lord Feanor had come to encircle the second host. For this, he received all the credit. Anoa had sacked his castle later in fulfillment of the vendetta. William had not studied Lord Feanor much; however, records were short from that era. Perhaps he could research it later.


    Each one had a large village near it, fortified with a stone wall. Many smithies and fletchers could be found within that place. Some monasteries held sacred relics and were tended to by priests who did their job. And a strong garrison of men as well.


    "Are you sure about setting out so soon?" asked Gwendoven. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''m afraid the situation to the south won''t wait, Aunt Gwendoven," said William. "With everything going on, I think I''d better take my sword to Blackfear. I had a feeling that innocent people were going to be attacked." But what could he do on his own?


    "Well, that is the usual place that the darkness comes in," noted Arthur. "So it is a wise move."


    "Why is that again?" asked Vorn. "That Blackfear is the usual source of darkness. I think I missed that lecture."


    "Anoa gave it to the forces of evil after his conquest was complete," said Arthur. "They thought it was a tribute, but the real reason was containment.


    "By giving it over to the forces of wickedness, he forced them to put much of their power into it. The Wood Elves keep a watch within the forests at the eastern slopes of the Black Mountain.


    "Jehair is quite familiar with them."


    "I am," said Jehair, who had been walking behind with Felix and Massacre. "But King Faras has no love for humans. He lived in the time of Anoa the Bright, Sylvar, Alasa, and many others. And he survived with only a few of his people to repopulate that realm.


    "I do not think you will be well-received."


    "Anoa''s wars, Jehair, predate Anoa and outlive him greatly," said Arthur. "The man has been blamed and credited for every misdeed and heroic victory humanity had. Neither viewpoint is wholly just.


    "The same can be said for Sylvar."


    "Who was?" asked William, who had not heard of her.


    "His chief nemesis in the early days of his reign," said Arthur. "Or, over several different reincarnations, depending on who you believe.


    "Part of a trio of elven sisters who ruled over this area. Alasa, Sylvar, and Twilight, all of which have become common names."


    Silence reigned.


    "What are you going to do about events in Ascorn?" asked William.


    "Quite simple," said Arthur. "I shall send him a letter explaining that the supply train has been disrupted by satyr raids. This is despite our victory. As a result, it will be difficult to send any further shipments to him directly by road. We aren''t able to send the same amount of supplies.


    "Once that happens, he''ll have no choice but to disperse the army. It should also help against famine to have men working fields again."


    "What about the Babarassians?" asked Vorn, late to listen.


    "We have no shortage of our work warriors, only ships," said Arthur. "Dunmoore can''t bring more ships with him. Having an army is no good if you can''t get where you need to go.


    "Rius contacted his friends from other ports, and Tanith is an accomplished raider. Adding a few thousand paladins will only make things more complicated."


    "Some don''t need a boat, Father," said Auga.


    "That may be so, Auga," said Arthur. "Do as you believe is best.


    "But shed no blood; you do not have to. Be precise and give them no opportunity to respond. But first, we are near a very special ridge.


    "Look over there, William. Do you see a shining light?"


    William turned and saw a ridge. Dawn was breaking over it, though he had hardly noticed it was night. The light was shining slowly over it, and his sphere vanished. Then, scaling upwards, William saw Felix coming up beside him.


    The slope was steep. "...Yes. I can see it."


    "Antion lies that way," said Arthur. "You can get a good view of it just beyond that ridge."


    William made his way up, then slipped beneath the moon''s light and landed hard in the mud. The wet squelching galled him, and he pulled himself out. Standing up in disgust, he heard laughter and walked upwards to spite it. Shaking himself off.


    "Well, I''m sure it''ll all be worth it in the end," said Felix, reading from some formal script.


    Why was he so amused?


    Suddenly, every bit of rage and pent-up frustrations gushed out. "What is wrong with you lately, Felix?!


    "How could it possibly be worth it?! We''ve been trudging through muck and dirt for weeks, trying to patch this place up! Finally, Tavish has gotten off, and Cirithil is counting his money while using a succubus as a pillow!


    "And we haven''t actually fixed anything! By the time we return this way, the plague will have returned. And it''s probably already in the city! So sooner or later we''ll have to go there! To say nothing of the fact that the Paladin Order has only just now been able to do their job!"


    "Well, my role is your shadow," said Felix with a smile. "I feel obligated to act as your foil."


    "You might as well not bother," said William, nearing the cliff''s edge. "One nice conversation with family does not change that this place is falling to bits. There is no possibility that all of this misery could be-"


    And then he reached the top.


    Even as he did, the light of the newly rising rose over the land and washed the city of Antion in a golden light. And struck by the beauty of it, William found himself speechless. For now, he saw a golden city untouched by the plague and horrors around it. It existed, transcendent, and beyond the reach of the mere physical stone.


    It manifested in a place of well-carved and ordered stone, with broad gates and high walls. And yet the many-storied houses where laundry hung could not compare to it. And as the light grew ever brighter, William realized that he had always known that city. And his hand reached out to grasp it as though it were before him.


    Yet his fingers sifted through nothing but golden light, and he wondered if he felt a hand on it.


    But, as his gaze turned back, he saw a beacon of good in a terrible world. His Uncle, and Gwendoven and Vorn. And there were others too. Far beyond him, he saw one beacon after another, some small, some great. Yet each flared with a light, and though the darkness sought to extinguish each one, it never fully went out. And lights were being conjured in the darkness, even now, faster than they could be snuffed.


    All throughout the world, he saw the peoples of the world struggling as one against it in their own way. Until his gaze turned to another light in the company that flared for only a moment. Though it was stronger than others. Beautiful though it was, it had led others into darkness. It had warmed them without enlightening them. His gaze turned to Seathorius, and he beheld a tall fortress, and in it was Arraxia.


    And hers was darkness like no other.


    In Blackfear. It stood before him like a marred, horrific counterpoint, a blackened hell on earth. Gazing upon it was pain and the periodic castles that rose around. They were akin to needles driving into heaven''s flesh. The dead hills sucked the warmth from the light of Antion, even as he flowed forth.


    That was where he must go.


    William struggled to find the words as he walked back down. "...It''s beautiful."


    "Yes, it is," said Arthur.


    "That is your first glimpse of the Golden City," said Jehair as a mere formality. "Remember it."


    She had been down this way many times and gotten sick of it.


    "I will," said William.


    Arthur nodded.


    And they walked on, and healed the sick and injured wherever they went.


    "In my studies in Qor''Danas, I read much," said Jehair. "There was a time when Anoa and Orson were both great servants of Alchara and the elves."


    "I had never heard that Anoa ever served Alchara in any life," said William.


    "He was, at one time, a servant to her and a friend to many of the great elven heroes," said Jehair. "A lifelong friend, serving them loyally until his death."


    "And how did he go to this from the nemesis of all elven kind?" asked Felix, giving William a warning look.


    "I do not know," said Jehair, seeming now unstable. "The change seems utterly inexplicable, based on the records." But it passed.


    "Perhaps I should look at those records at some point," said William, wanting to steady her.


    "Such a choice may well be of use someday," said Jehair.


    They journeyed on together through many fertile and similarly ordered lands. Jehair said nothing more of it, and William did not press her. Arthur seemed to make a point of observing the gallows when he walked by them. William wondered why.


    "Why do you fixate on the gallows?" asked William.


    "Because they are the dark side of my rule," said Arthur, looking as a corpse was taken down. "How do I have the right to focus only on the good? I have done such a thing as this? And yet, it is necessary.


    "Crime cannot be tolerated. Those thieves who see him will take heed and steer clear."


    "Might just go undercover," said Auga, reading another book. Still needs to be William''s.


    "Better undercover than acting openly," said Arthur. "If they hide from the law, it means they fear it.


    "We''ll rest here tonight. Gwendoven and I have not been here, and we must speak with the merchants." So they went toward a provincial town with many merchants doing business. Unfortunately, there were also many men playing dice, much to William''s displeasure. However, as soon as they saw Arthur, they packed it up and ran off.


    All except for Cirithil and his fellows. They looked around in confusion. Then he saw Arthur sprinting off into the nearest brothel. William was about to go after him, but Arthur took him by the shoulder. "Don''t mind them, William.


    "Be truthful and righteous in your dealings. The affairs of men who want to gamble are their own. And the world''s oldest profession will not go away simply because you put a law against it. Those places do not mistreat the women inside, thanks to invoking Maius, Chun Xi, and Isriath. They have formed a kind of triumvirate.


    "Not to my taste, but it is better that the women do it under their protection than under the alternatives. You should focus on setting an example that others might follow."


    "Father has always said that," said William, inwardly fuming. He wished it was Cirithil and the priests on those gallows.


    "I''ve never even heard of this Chun Xi," said William.


    "An odd deity," said Arthur. "Apparently disliked in the place she came from."


    "But surely the God Triumvirate has been the guiding policy of Harlenor," said William. "Barden for trade and civilization, Elranor for healing and death. And Laevian to ensure we do not become complacent."


    "Well, that was all well and good," said Arthur. "Back when we lived in constant war with a neverending struggle for survival. Those Gods were invaluable and deserved their place as our chief deities.


    "Contrary to what some may believe." His gaze turned to the brothel, where laughter was underway. Then screaming.


    "Is it not the custom in Antion to greet a ruler in his own land?" asked William. "Or, in all lands."


    "Yes," said Arthur. "I had noticed that.


    "This is beginning to look like something I might have to do something about."


    "Well, what can you do?" asked Vorn. "He''s the High Priest of the Gods."


    At this point, Cirithil was thrown out the door by the blue-clad woman from before. Her eyes were steely, but then William realized it was someone else. Just dressed as her, and as Cirithil scrambled up, he shook his fist. "You won''t get away with this!


    "I set this place up!


    "You work for me!"


    The prostitutes filed out past William one by one toward Arthur. As they did, they stripped off colorful, scanty clothing and put on ordinary clothing. "Can you find us a priest?"


    "The temple is that way," said Arthur. "Provided they haven''t started selling indulgences again."


    Silence.


    "They have," said a woman.


    She was about his age and height, perhaps older, but her physique was... odd. Her breasts were far larger than possible, and she wore a black skirt and white shirt. They swayed with each movement she made while her clothes appealingly clung to her wide hips. Her dark hair was wild and long; she had two dark cat ears on her head instead of ears. A long black cat tail was flicking behind her as she moved forward. She had a briefcase on one side, and her eyes were red and unblinking.


    Stolen story; please report.


    For a moment, William wondered if she was a succubus. Of course, a succubus would have come up with something much better than this. Some sort of magical alterations done at birth?


    "Sir Gabriel, I''d like to speak to you on behalf of the Temple of Elranor," said the girl. "I''m Tef Lock. Well, I was Tef Karsif then. Do you remember me?" Her voice was hopeful.


    "I''m afraid I''ve had little time to reminisce," said William.


    She paused. "We ate dinner together at Ran Telus. I was with one of the merchants who went there. Your Father and Mother discussed things, and we looked at the stars while you read a book."


    "Oh yes, of course," said William.


    Edmund Telus had eaten with every person who''d ever wanted to do business in Ran Telus. He had to, to get a sense of their character, and so he''d know their face. Oftentimes, meetings would be set up with many merchants.


    Father had often dined there with the family to consult Edmund on diplomatic choices. They were some of William''s fondest memories before Tanith went to war.


    Vaguely, William remembered it had been a trade negotiation. The Demoration had been trying to convince Edmund Telus to open certain negotiations. Father had advocated against it. Tef had been offered as a ''gift'' to smooth things along. The ''gift'' had been offered by Artulkan Karsif, her uncle, who had been fast to assure Edmund it was legal.


    Edmund had been disgusted and insulted that Artulkan thought he would accept such a gift. Something Artulkan ought to have known if he''d done any research at all.


    William had regarded her only as a merchant''s daughter. He supposed he had been much more memorable than she had been to him. For that, he felt somewhat guilty.


    ''If this is how you treat your own blood,'' Edmund had said to the man. ''One can only imagine how you treat your business partners.''


    Artulkan did not get the favorable trade rights he wanted. And Edmund had pulled every string to shut him and his ilk out of Haldren. And he''d done so quite effectively. Thus, an attempt to corrupt local nobility by sharing decadence ended up in total failure.


    It had been a mere footnote. But judging from events here, Artulkan had not failed as much as expected.


    "If memory served," said William. "Your uncle, Artulkan, explained how you were not his daughter, so it was alright."


    "No, I technically am his daughter," said Tef. "But I''m not really his daughter."


    "Explain what you mean by that?" asked William.


    "Well, see, I do have his genetic material," said Tef. "And I am legally his daughter.


    "But that is just a technicality. See, the Demoration has rules against creating artificial, sentient creatures. But they don''t have any rules against genetically altering your own children.


    "So I was designed in a lab without meeting him and trained as such. But all the paperwork says that I''m his daughter. But I''m not really his daughter, so it''s okay."


    "That is the most absurd basis for prostitution I have ever heard," said William. "And I''m not going to discuss this with you any further.


    "How can I help you?"


    "Right, okay," said Tef. "We''re interested in a peace offering. Can I speak to one side with you?"


    "Felix," said William. "Walk with me."


    "Is this a good idea?" asked Vorn.


    "I''ll consult you if anything unexpected comes up," said William.


    "Don''t sign anything without talking to us," said Vorn.


    William nodded and went to one side. Tef paused and opened the briefcase. Within were a variety of sheets of paper. "These are the deeds to several very profitable estates.


    "The Temple would like to compensate you for the earlier incident. We understand that you felt insulted in the meeting in Atravain. And some of what you saw you took as an assault on noble holdings."


    William paused. "Is this a bribe?"


    "It is a substantial part of our business," said Tef. "Made with the support of numerous powerful goddesses. I understand you''ve already met some of them.


    "The establishments we create provide a safe working environment for the women. Included in the rights is free to use, naturally. They have been of great use to the crown and to the Temple in gathering information."


    "Why is Cirithil sending you?" asked William.


    "Well," said Tef. "I may have mentioned to Rundas that we were childhood friends. And he told me to make a peace offering and left.


    "Believe it or, he''s actually very efficient at running things when he wants to be. You''ve only seen us at our worst."


    "You''re trying to bribe a Paladin?" asked William, letting the childhood friend remark go.


    "Call it compensation," said Tef. "High Priest Cirithil wishes to avoid any further conflicts between our influence. A stake in our ventures could be very profitable indeed for us both.


    "I admit, there have been hopes to expand into Artarq." She gave a winning smile that faded.


    William stared at her. "Why exactly do you have this kind of authority?"


    "Well, the man who commissioned my creation gave me to the temple," said Tef. "As a consultant." She seemed very proud of the fact. "Mostly, I just run errands and file paperwork for Rundas. But I am technically a representative for the Demoration, and I pass messages on to him through Ata. She refused to do this job, so it fell to me."


    So Artulkan went to Cirithil after going to Edmund. "Get out of the temple, now."


    "It''s fine, really," said Tef. "Cirithil has never touched me. I don''t think he''s even aware I exist.


    "The guy has no interest in sex. Or in gambling. Or in taking walks. All he does is work.


    "Though what it is, I''ll never know. I only handle messages from the Demoration. Can I finish my offer?"


    "Go ahead," said William.


    "High Priest Cirithil is a very influential man," said Tef. "With the support of the Temple, House Gabriel could grow in influence a great deal. Especially since you could be an ideal go-between with House Atravain.


    "Bishop Rundas could support bridging the gap between House De Chevlon and Gabriel. And Bishop Joffrey will have a say in who is chosen to be Lord of Ascorn. Actually, he already has several candidates. At this point, it is virtually inevitable without an outside presence."William said nothing. There really didn''t seem to be anything to say.


    "In time," said Tef, looking about. "We could even arrange a political marriage with Princess Ansara. We are quite influential, and she is in need of support.


    "You could become King of Antion by your own hand."


    William stared. "What is your Father''s connection to all this?"


    "Without having read what Mr. Artulkan had to say about all this," said Tef. "I can''t know. But I know he has been a major supplier for the church.


    "Cirithil has his own private docks for exclusive church use. They get high priority, so what is brought onto them comes in fast. I''m not allowed to be on those docks during operating hours. But I do know that several members of the Sorcerer''s Guild came there.


    "Rundas is usually the guy who handles shipments and stuff here. There was also this guy in black skull armor named Lamech, who was scary. A couple of the people who used to run the docks disappeared suddenly."


    "You''re new to this negotiation thing, aren''t you?" asked William.


    "Look," said Tef. "I just work here. I''m not allowed to pass judgment on anyone. We just want to maintain our profits. We don''t plan to get involved in this internal dispute."


    "But you are involved," said William. "You have made Cirithil very rich. And you have provided how the country has nearly been overrun. So just because you don''t take responsibility does not mean you aren''t responsible."


    "...I''m sorry," said Tef, looking at a loss. "But there''s nothing I can do about that.


    "You could fix all that stuff if House Gabriel took power."


    "No," said William. "I couldn''t."


    "Well, if being King means nothing to you, what does?" said Tef. "What is it that you want?"


    William thought about all this. What, at present, would truly drive him? "I''d like my entrance into the Golden City to begin with seeing the corpse of Cirithil. I want to see him and all his cronies hanging from the gallows as birds turn up their beaks.


    "I would gaze into their soulless eyes, and smile. Do you think the Demoration can set that up, Tef?"


    "...I''ll get back to you," said Tef, raising a paw.


    "No, you will not," said William. "Because you''re going to get out of Cirithil''s company and somewhere safe. I don''t know what he plans to do. But if you''re around him, you''ll either be a human sacrifice or go down with him."


    Suddenly, a child screamed.


    Arthur looked up to where it was coming from the brothel. It was crying and begging for mercy, and Arthur drew his sword and raced up the slope. "William, stay here!"


    Tef halted and looked at William. "Where do I go?"


    "Is there somewhere safe?" asked William. "Surely the Demoration must have some official safe house for you?"


    "I''m an accident," said Tef. "My status as ambassador is thrown together on the fly."


    William shook his head. "Alright, you give my Uncle these deeds when he returns. Then you ask him for sanctuary. He can protect you until the crisis is over.


    "Do not go anywhere with a priest or an agent of any noble family. Especially not House Korlac; they are good, but they have a reputation for being ruthless. Now, you''ll likely be called on to testify.


    "Can you read and write?"


    "Yes," said Tef.


    "Do it then," said William. "Write out everything you can remember about your time with the High Priest and other events. After that, do not go back to the temple under any circumstances.


    "Wait until you are called for. Then, my Uncle will know what to do."


    "Right," said Tef.


    Rundas and Cirithil raced out of the brother with Joffrey and their cronies. Arthur walked behind them, a bloodied sword and a walking stick in one hand. Vorn was holding a child in his arms of about eight. It looked like someone had been going at her wife with a knife with small cuts. But Cirithil was less in shape than the others. Cirithil''s priests leaped into the ox cart. Driving off, they pushed Cirithil out of the door and left him to rot as they bolted off.Cirithil turned in terror to Arthur, who offered him the walking stick.


    The High Priest snatched it and went off as fast as his legs could. Meanwhile, the woman came out with Coalmarsh. Immediately, they began being led toward them. One of them had to be healed of a cut above the brown.


    Tef raced to Arthur while Vorn brought the child to William, who healed it.


    "What was going on in there?" asked William.


    "...One of the priests," said Vorn. "He paid extra to get to disassemble some of the cargo."


    William was speechless. "Why would he..."


    "He''s dead," said Vorn. "Dad cut him to ribbons with two of his friends.


    "The other priests didn''t even notice. They didn''t even hear the screams, but Cirithil did. He bolted only when Dad looked about to go at him with a blade.


    "Don''t know if anyone has thought of this," said Vorn. "But that path leads in sharp bends around a lagoon. If they go around it at the pace the oxen were driven at, they''ll likely fall into it."


    "Damn it, Vorn," said Gwendoven. "Now we have thought of it, so we must do something about it!"


    "Gwendoven is right," said Arthur, coming back. "We cannot leave twenty men to drown simply because they are bad people. So are all of us, or might be had we have been born differently."


    "They were trying to kill a child," said William, healing the girl.


    "I won''t deny they are nearly irredeemable," said Arthur. "But offering the hand of redemption at a late hour may bring them back. Or at least slow their descent into hell.


    "Only one partook in that particular depravity. The others looked disturbed. And we must attempt to find their cure, even if it is beyond us. For any among us might have been them in other circumstances."


    Jehair sighed. "Perhaps we could find some other group of twenty people who are better company."


    "I''ll go!" said Tef. "Who will go with me?!"


    And a lot of people did go with them, quite abruptly. Uncle seemed to have a hold over people. Ropes and everything were gotten together, and they hurried after them. The air was crisp, and a brisk wind kept it from being too hot. The sight of Tef''s bosom moving was nice, though William would never admit it. However, she seemed to move on all fours when going quickly, and her hands had a pawlike look to them.


    If Tef had been created to tempt, she certainly fit the part.


    Soon enough, they came around the bend and found the lagoon, as Vorn said. And just as Vorn had said, the priests were all languishing in the mud, scrambling to try and get out. Coalmarsh and Ata were trying to pull one out, and they succeeded. But he immediately ran off after Cirithil without giving them a look.


    Ropes were thrown down, and the drivers were pulled out next with more oxen. But other priests, Rundas among them, were yelling for help.


    "Leave the beasts!" said Rundas.


    "I say we just kill the priests and take the money," said Auga, reading her book to one side. She had not taken any part in events. She had only followed to watch.


    "How can you say that?" asked Tef, hauling something up with tail flicking.


    "They are useless," said Auga. "They don''t do their job, and they cause trouble." She blinked as she read another page. "Hmm, so that''s how you make lemon chicken."


    Saying this drove Tef into a frenzy. But everyone was working by now, trying to get everyone out. One or two priests did help, some out of shame, others because they noticed Arthur''s gaze on them. Yet Tef seemed to find this infuriating. Jehair used her power over the land to help them get out. And little by little, they were succeeding, though some had to balance on the carriages.


    Even so, William marveled at how her thighs strained to pull vast weights, and her arms did with them. Moreover, her outfit made the sight of her labor more appealing than it ought to have been.


    Meanwhile, Jehair moved to pull the oxen away from the accident with Felix and some others. The labor was hard; one had a broken leg, but William healed it and several others. Others had bruises, and a few spat out blood and had to be tended to quickly.


    Food was brought forth, the best anyone could get. The priests ate their fill miserably together. Some helped draw people out, but Rundas sat to one side, scowling. Cirithil was nowhere to be seen, and William almost hoped he was dead.


    "Tef," said William. "What is the nature of these brothels that have been set up. I saw Goddesses within one."


    "It was Maius'' idea," said Tef. "She put me in charge of arranging shipments of alcohol. That and made rules about hurting the employees. But she and Cirithil had recently fallen out, and she pulled support.


    "I guess that''s why that priest tried to hurt that little girl.


    "I don''t understand how anyone could be so sick."


    "Neither do I," said William. "Anyone else?"


    "Well, Isriath usually helped with music and artistry," said Tef. "But she walked with Maius. There was also Chun Xi. She provided funding from Kadan and was always very professional. I think she wanted information on what Bretusians were doing.


    "She spent a lot of time keeping track of mercenaries. I remember she hired many Khasmir Campaign veterans to return to Namina with her."


    "Why?" asked William.


    "Namina doesn''t have a good military," said Tef. "Well, unless you count King Nagos."


    "And how does he fit into this?" asked William.


    "He doesn''t," said Tef. "Nagos showed up and talked to a lot of people. Cirithil pretends they''re friends, but I don''t think they are. Nagos never uses our services, and while he does use Cirithil''s ports, it''s all legal.


    "They''ve talked once or twice. I met King Nagos, though, and he''s a really great person. He''d never be involved in any of this."


    "Then why do you work here?" asked William.


    "Well, I was given to the temple by Artulkan Karsif after I was rejected as a gift," said Tef. "And I kept my ears open and ran errands. Since I used to live in the Demoration, I know why it is doing things."


    "I mean these brothels," said William.


    "Well, Maius is really well-liked in Kadan," said Tef. "The basic idea was to create safe areas where girls who had been defiled could live and work. Then they gather information to prepare for what is coming."


    "Well, that has nothing to do with me," said William. "Though, if you wish, I will record this in my book."


    "It might help," said Tef. "At this point, it''s all in ruins.


    "Everyone we set up has gone off and become priestesses of Elranor, Barden, and Laevian. Foreign gods."


    "We?" asked Felix.


    "I ran errands for Maius and Chun Xi and Isriath," said Tef weakly.


    "I sincerely doubt it," said Felix.


    "Felix, why have you been so unprofessional lately?" said William. "Is something wrong?"


    "...We should have saved the oxen and the drivers," said Felix. "And leave the priests to drown. They are a disgrace by any standard, and the mere thought that they somehow represent a force of good is..."


    "Felix," said William. "This is not the time. Have you ever met King Andoa?"


    "Yes," said Tef. "He was really nice. But he seemed troubled, and he got weaker when bad things happened to the land. He said that as King, the land and he were one."


    At that moment, Vorn got back looking very distressed. William guessed it had something to do with their status as a merchant. "What is it?"


    "Sorry I wasn''t here to help with the unloading," said Vorn, though William hadn''t noticed his absence. "I had to do some talking with King Nagos.


    "It seems that Cirithil sold a lot of his flocks to various places in the Islands of Power. The shipments are going to Sorn now. And we''ve got to stop them."


    "That can''t be legal," said William.


    "It doesn''t matter," said Vorn. "Those flocks are used in reserve in case of famine. Traditionally, they are slaughtered. You use them to feed the poor since they''d starve anyway. Cirithil probably doesn''t know that, but we might have a bad harvest this year.


    "And when you get a bad harvest, it sometimes takes a while to bounce back. Also, it takes much longer to raise livestock than crops. So now, I''ve gotten all the merchants to refuse to do anything. And if a message gets through to House Korlac, they''ll lock things down.


    "But sooner or later, he''ll be able to sell it if he can."


    "Couldn''t we use the fallow land?" said Tef, adjusting her hair and pushing back an errant bang. It gave her a cute look William liked, especially with her red eyes. "To grow crops on instead?"


    "Livestock grazes a lot," said Vorn. "It won''t be useable. And even if it is, we can''t do anything with it. And Cirithil is going to want a major bribe if we''re going to do anything with it. Even if he gets one, he doesn''t know a thing about cultivating anything.


    "And I don''t think he has the humility to delegate. His affairs have been well-minded because his predecessor did good work. Unfortunately, Cirithil never paid any attention to any of that.


    "This isn''t a business decision. He''s just doing this to look decisive.


    "The money he spent there he used to invest in the operations he did out here. It''s like he''s trying to start mass starvation."


    "Could you buy them?" asked William.


    "Well, not now," said Vorn. "No offense, but that scuffle you had with him will cause problems."


    "I refuse to accept the desecration of all that is sacred," said William.


    "That won''t be any comfort if people start starving William," said Vorn.


    "So what are we going to do?" asked William.


    "You don''t have to do anything. I''ve sent messages to Duke Marn," said Vorn. "And all the other lords. We''re planning to buy them up, with an understanding that they only get used in famine."


    "So," William halted. "Cirithil is selling his position as High Priest?"


    "He has the position," said Vorn.


    "His position is his duties," said William. "He''s sold out the temples; he''s sold out the priesthood. And now he''s selling out the holdings of the church.


    "The position as High Priest is effectively ceasing to exist. And the church with it.


    "We can''t let this happen. The old high priest was a longtime friend of King Andoa, and if we don''t have a center of religion, what do we have left? He''s destroying the church. If things go this way, all the nobles will set up their own cults. Grace, Janice, and Jaina are already almost doing it.


    "Do you really want House Hawkthorne determining good and evil?


    "I wouldn''t want my own Father doing it. And once the church is destroyed, where does the Paladin Order take orders from? And what is its authority?"


    Vorn considered it.


    "You could try resorting to violence," said Tef.


    Silence.


    "What, that''s what everyone does in this place," said Tef. "It''s the standard procedure."


    "I see," said Vorn. "You mean just smash Cirithil''s head against a window and tell him to do nothing or die. There''s gotta be a better angle; once you start killing people, everything gets nasty."


    At that moment, the High Priest returned with armed guards, spears, and knives. They halted, bearing the emblem of the city guard, and William put a hand to his sword. Arthur did as well, and there was silence as William and Arthur''s fighting men stood ready. Gwendoven watched with interest. The guards, spearmen in plain armor, looked at one another. Then at, a group of war veterans were looking for a fight. They saluted.


    "High Priest Cirithil," said Arthur. "Hail and well met. I am pleased you have found such respectful and wise guardians."


    "These men," said Cirithil, eyes filled with pure hatred. "Are here to arrest the traitor, William Gabriel."


    William drew his sword, as did everyone else. Elranor was very quick these days.

 Chapter Nine: The Marsh

    Blades were readied, and challenges called as men prepared for blood. William''s hand went to his own sword, eagerly seeking to slay Cirithil if it came to it. Yet Vorn caught his hand as the guards near Cirithil readied their weapons. Cirithil stood there looking dead with a smile.


    "Stop!" said Arthur, and everyone did.


    William lowered his sword, as did Felix. Jehair''s scythe was lowered as Massacre growled.


    Finally, Lord Arthur moved forward: "High Priest Cirithil, you are not arresting anyone. Let alone a member of my family."


    "He has attempted to sabotage the church," said Cirithil, his voice soft. "He has associated with demons such as Arraxia. He has also worked with worshippers of Fortenex.


    "Because of this, I name him a heretic. He will be interrogated for information about his demonic master, Arraxia. Resist, and you are no ally of Elranor."


    "Hardly," said Coalmarsh, who had a mace in hand. "You are no servant of Elranor. Kill him, Lord Arthur! Put him out of the misery of his victims!"


    "I have a legal right to arrest him," said Cirithil. "And my grounds are just. He has had, by his own admission, an association with demons."


    "Were you another man, I might consider your claims to have some merit," said Arthur. "But you are a murderer and worse. I will nor give you my nephew."


    Cirithil did not respond; his face was silent. "Very well then.


    "If you insist on siding with a heretic, I cannot stop you. Nevertheless, the damage done to my property must be restored. I am hereby standing on my right to call on these people for service to the church.


    "You will retrieve the church''s property that you have wantonly destroyed."


    Silence.


    Vorn looked to the wagons. "What property? What are you talking about?"


    "Those wagons," said Cirithil stated. "Are necessary for many business deals that the church will make. The money within them will be used for matters beyond your expertise. You will retrieve it."


    "Go to hell," said Vorn. "If you want to race around dangerous corners, that''s your business."


    "This is a sacred task," said Cirithil, looking solemn. Was this the same man?


    "What''s our cut?" asked Vorn flatly. "These men I''ve called up have already done a lot of labor getting your priests out. They''re dog-tired, and I''ve got one or two vendettas with you already."


    Murmurs of agreement.


    "Vorn," said Lord Arthur. "You ill become your rank. Cirithil is not my friend, but the High Priest remains the Head of the Church. It is his property, and it is within his rights to ask for the services of the local nobility."


    Silence.


    Rundas looked uneasily. "Your grace, perhaps a demonstration of humility on our part, could help prevent a conflict."


    Cirithil considers this a moment.


    "Do so," said Cirithil.


    And so began another labor. It was long, bitter, and hard as men struggled to get the huge carts out. And Cirithil insisted they get the carts out, not just the money. He and his priests stood by and did nothing while it continued, calling for food and wine. Neither of which were brought to them. Vorn and Coalmarsh stood across from there, glaring in hatred at Cirithil.


    William helped with the labor, and his strength was useful. But some of the carriages broke down, and once or twice, men were seriously hurt. William healed them each time, but it was difficult. He felt that Cirithil was finally using his power alongside that of the priest. And they were using it to interfere with him.


    They wanted Willam to fail, even if it meant failing themselves.


    Every moment dragged on in a way that it never had before. Every tiny pain was like a lifetime of agony. Each time they pulled and pushed and got a wagon out, there was no thanks. Cirithil just stood there without expression. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Watching the desperation and labor of these people.


    Vorn wasn''t any use in physical labor, but he spent time talking with merchants who went by. This infuriated Cirithil. He became more infuriated as Arthur had several firm conversations. Many people were just as concerned about things as everyone else. So now, what could have been a crisis had been averted, or so William guessed.


    Tef proved to be a major asset. William was amazed at the strength that was within her paws. And she had a balance like nothing he''d seen, able to stand on slippery surfaces and keep balance. Often, she''d grab a rope and bound it down to the marshes, balancing on the carriages and tying it down.


    But that did not make things any less miserable for William or the people working here. Because they''d only gotten a few out. And by the time they finished, even with the guards. Everyone was drenched in sweat, and several people had been injured at least once. Nobody had realized how easy things had been with Tef.


    That may have been because of the nature of the task.


    "This is the worst work I''ve ever had taking carriages out," said a man.


    "You do this often?" asked William.


    "Yes," said the man, hauling on a rope with him. "You see, this bend has always been sharp. So, every so often, someone comes by too fast and falls off it. Vorn put together a task whose main purpose was to rescue people who fell in.


    "We''re part of it."


    "Not how I wanted to spend my time in the city guard," said a grizzled veteran. "But, better than leaving them."


    "And what are you doing out here?" asked William.


    "Cirithil said he''d been menaced and attacked by a noble," said the veteran. "Told us to arrest him. Authority is a gray area, but we were going to do it.


    "At least until he changed his mind.


    "Was it you?"


    William told him the short version of the story. This got a general laugh from most of the people present, and Cirithil did not show any emotion at all. Just stood there as though he were a statue in the rain. Those eyes really did seem something from Diabolus, and he had said nothing while they worked.


    A strange thing began to happen as they worked. The priests who broke with Cirithil to help with the work gradually seemed to change. Rundas was among them, though he was reluctant. Though there was no physical look, you began to see them as a person. Before, they''d sort of meshed into a crowd behind Cirithil. William only thought of Joffrey or Rundas when looking for them.


    Like they were a set of knives on a belt. But not you could see them as human, a mortal beings with a divine spark. As the filth got all over them like it did everyone else, that spark seemed to be rekindled. Their eyes were no longer empty.


    But the priests like Joffrey and the others who stayed with Cirithil changed, too. The more you looked at them, the harder it was to pick them out of the crowd. Joffrey could be identified if you looked for the clothes he was wearing. Or a particular facial expression or feature that was unique to him. But you couldn''t look for Joffrey or the others. Their expressions became ever more hateful and twisted.


    Somehow, they did it without physically changing, and soon, no one dared look at them. Instead, they instinctively looked away from the priests or looked past their shoulders. Everyone, except Vorn, met Cirithil''s gaze head-on while organizing. Cirithil looked right back, and there was real hatred there. Obviously, this was not the first time they had clashed.


    William realized he had finished telling his story, and the men laughed.


    "Got chased out of every brothel in Antion," laughed the guard. "I''m Tombs, by the way."


    The mirth was short-lived. Somehow, everything became worse still, and the effort continued. Desperately, they strove to get everything out while the oxen munched happily.


    At least someone was having a good time, even if Cirithil was not paying attention.


    Was this some kind of harvest?


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Was the devil reaping the seeds long planted that had flowered? And who was the wheat?


    "It''s done," said Tombs. "Everything is out."


    "But is all the money out?" asked Cirithil, relatively calm for one surrounded by armed men who hated him. "All of it must be retrieved."


    Checking the carriage, they determined that some chests of gold had fallen out. And so the men spent another miserable day diving into a swamp, looking for treasure. Vorn arranged for water and medical treatment. The sun beat down on them, and Cirithil looked in a particularly good mood.


    Vorn wiped the sweat from his brow. "Well, it''s settled.


    "We headed it off, and the flocks are safe. We''re also posting a couple of guards on them. Just in case anyone gets ideas of breaking the agreement."


    "Does Cirithil know?" asked William.


    "He doesn''t know anything," said Vorn. "He''s an idiot.


    "I''m sure Coalmarsh has only the best intentions, but there''s no demonic possession here. Just a rotten, spoiled brat with too much money and no sense of how to use it."


    "I wish I believed you," said William. "But I think there might be something to it-"


    "There isn''t, kid," said Vorn. "You see demonic possession because Cirithil is a really terrible person. You have good ideas about how a priest or paladin should behave, and Cirithil hates you.


    "He''s a complete disgrace, but you don''t want to believe that any priest could be this bad. But you haven''t grown up with it like I have. So, you look for some kind of explanation for it. And since you are in touch with the spirit world, you start to see one.


    "The truth, Will, is that some people are just terrible. And some people start out terrible and get worse if nobody can stop them. Nobody could stop Cirithil, so now he''s such slime that nobody can believe he exists.


    "Don''t look for demonic possession when pure, simple, human evil works just fine."


    William nodded and said no more.


    Finally, they began to hoist the boxes of upward treasure individually. Two came up without incident, but then one broke.


    "All of it must be retrieved," said Cirithil. "All of it."


    And the priests laughed. Most were having a fine time, though not all of them. Those who actually began to help with the work were a great asset. They minded injuries and helped with the rope-pulling. They were often cut or made filthy, and some fled behind Cirithil. But others stayed and continued to become alive.


    But the work was still miserable. People had to look through the muck and dirt for every scrap of coin they could. Some went blind and had to be healed, and Jehair could do only so much. And when they looked everywhere near the shore, Cirithil ordered the search to expand.


    "Every bit of the church''s property must be retrieved," said Cirithil, voice soft.


    One or two did so anyway, and the demon''s influence faded.


    "I think I understand your perspective better, Vorn," said William, despising the work. "These men are worthy of praise as much as any soldier."


    "Well, you said it, not me," said Vorn. "Am I even in the right country?"


    It was a fair question.


    Harlenorians, whose core principle was strength and self-determination, now slaved away. All at the behest of a collection of fat and weak bullies. The priests who stood with Cirithil were like children, only they were adults. Forty to fifty in many cases, with Cirithil being the youngest and the person they wanted to be.


    "Keep it up, lads," called Joffrey, empty-eyed as always. Rundas grimaced as he helped pull a man out of the mud with the cargo.


    Mocking the very people they relied on. Though achieving vengeance on a hated enemy when there had been no cause. This could not possibly be revenge; what revenge were they taking? Was it simple contempt?


    Or perhaps, it was revenge for these people not being as they assumed they were? Ordinary people had proven to be virtuous, strong, and worthy of admiration. They had refused to be enslaved to the caricature these priests had imagined.


    The nobility was able to adjust their perspective because they had an agenda.


    Yet Cirithil had no agenda save hedonism and spite that William could tell. Whatever designs the demons within him had, Cirithil cared nothing for them. Yet such a thing could not truly be a cause. So he needed some other thing to focus on as an identity, and scorning the common people was convenient. After all, commoners believed in everything that Cirithil disregarded. Dismissing them as worthless, lazy idiots let him ignore his worst qualities.


    Should William pity him?


    No.


    Not at all.


    Cirithil was an adult and could have learned better even if he had not been taught better. There was a Cirithil out there who experienced exactly the same things. Someone who, after enduring self-inflicted humiliation, chose to change who they are.


    William knew one who did.


    No, Cirithil was simply not important.


    "Enough," said Arthur suddenly. "These men have gathered all of the coins you asked for. Take your due and never set foot in my lands again.


    "Now, begone."


    Cirithil halted and felt the eyes of others on him. He looked around and nodded. "Very well.


    "However, thanks to their efforts, those oxen will be slaughtered for a feast."


    It was a single act of spite.


    But it spoke volumes.


    Cirithil had no idea that anyone had been invested in the oxen. But he had a general idea they were doing well, and he had power over them. Nobody had used them for hard labor, so he destroyed them. And then force the people who liked them to eat them.


    "No," said Vorn, who liked animals. "I''m taking those oxen as my rightful due. My men have been forced to do far more than you asked. You''ve repaid saving the lives of your people with misery.


    "Doing a good deed to do another good deed late is on the thing, but I note you were in no hurry to get your friends. Men, take the oxen."


    Cirithil was now surrounded by enemies. William decided that he should just leave. He had not come to start a fight, and Vorn had been right. Starting a confrontation with that brother has caused this. So William ought to let it go and turn back.


    "William Gabriel," said Cirithil. "You may consider this your redemption."


    No.


    That was too much.


    William should take his sword. He must stab the foul beast and put out his eyes. He thought about drawing his sword and grasping Cirithil by the throat. He could bring this... official, to the altar of Elranor and execute him there.


    Elranor himself could hardly say it was a bad move.


    It would send exactly the right message; any Haldrenian would agree with him.


    But this was not Haldren.


    The High Priest had a sacred role.


    The question was this;


    Was High Priest Cirithil a political actor or the head of the faith?


    William should cut him down where he stood if he was a political actor. The slight degradation on himself and his house already were too great. But if he was the head of the church, William could not lay a hand on him.


    And which it was would not be determined by Elranor or him.


    William looked up at his Uncle. "Uncle, am I to understand that the man bearing the title of High Priest is under your protection?"


    Arthur considered it. "He is."


    "Then I will allow this insult to pass," said William, sheathing his sword.


    Cirithil turned to begin counting his money. And they left, though Tef stayed behind to observe. William hoped she wasn''t going over to his side. But they returned to the village, ceding the field to that contemptible bastard. Worse still, no sooner had they sat down to drink than Rundas came into the village.


    A guard bristled, but Arthur waved him off.


    "You townsfolk," said Rundas, who was looking very concerned. "I need men to carry a vast sum of gold to Antion. There will be extensive wages in it for you. The High Priest is in dire need, and there is an opportunity to serve the church and Elranor."


    And he went about, asking repeatedly. Although his demeanor was less smug, he seemed at least ashamed. William was not feeling forgiving. He went here and there, but Uncle let him.


    "Why would you stop me, Uncle?" said William, drinking deeply. "The man is a monster and as bad as any demon. We ought to have cut him down there and then!"


    "Yes," said Auga. "Why do we not arrest Rundas? You already banished him?"


    "Wait for it," said Vorn with a smile.


    "Wait for what?" said Mara. "Alright, keep your secrets, dear."


    "Why did you not let me kill Cirithil?" asked Willia.


    "It was not just for his sake that I stopped you," said Arthur. "If you were to cut him down, you would be cutting down the church. It has already been discredited. And a Paladin who behaves far better than the priests would be the death of it.


    "That is why he sought to humiliate us. If he could get us to inflict violence on him, he could take solace in ruining others. He could say to himself that no one really believes in the gods or the church."


    A large group of people went off with Rundas, and he looked to smirk at Arthur, who sighed. The people, however, looked furious. Tef halted. "I''m going to go see what''s going on."


    "What are you saying?" asked William.


    "By enduring the humiliations he inflicts on us, he is defeated," said Lord Arthur. "He has lost finances, territory, and the spiritual battle. He has been forced to see that Antion values the church. He has failed to destroy the faith of the people and the nobility. Worse still, his hold has been broken on some of his priests.


    "Those men may do great deeds of mercy and charity in the future.


    "And he will see and hear of them doing those deeds. That will pain him far more than any sword blow. It may even, eventually, redeem his soul."


    "And what mischief do you think he will do with the money we''ve given back to him?" said William.


    "I don''t think you need to worry about that, William," said Uncle. "While he has a lot of money, there is the cost of transportation and portage to consider. It is a long way from Antion."


    William heard shrieks of rage from around the bend.


    Tef came back, bounding ahead of a crowd that was coming back. "They threw all the gold back into the swamp. The city guard refused his bribes and left them there!"


    "Such a pity that Cirithil is henceforth exiled from my domain," said Arthur. "Otherwise, he might be able to ask me for help."


    Everyone laughed, even Jehair.


    Everyone except William, Tef, and Felix, whose gaze met. Tef seemed surprised at the laughter, and her big eyes blinked as if wondering why they were laughing. Felix clasped his hands and looked to William, who met it.


    They''d have both much preferred Cirithil dead.


    And they''d see it eventually. The laughter died, and Arthur shrugged. We could arrange an escort for them. It wouldn''t be fitting for them to go unguarded, and the roads are not as safe as they once were."


    "I''ll arrange it," said Vorn. Then he looked to two of his men. "You, take five men and take care of this. Nothing happens to Cirithil until he gets to Antion. And keep him away from the girls."


    "I''ll go as well," said Coalmarsh. "Someone needs to watch him.


    "Let''s go, Ata."


    "Of course, Coalmarsh," said Ata.


    Mara put a hand on William''s shoulder. "Just forget about him.


    "Think about them when you can do something about it."


    William nodded. "Thank you."


    He would be glad to be rid of the High Priest. But he could put it aside for now for the sake of his family.

 Chapter Ten: Aftermath

    Happily, it turned out that things went badly for Cirithil from the very instant William had left. After the city guard left him, it got the priests very worried. Many found the occasion to go home and reconnect with family. Others, including Rundas, could be seen using their powers to heal the sick and injured. Like they should have been doing it ages ago.


    Those who remained with Cirithil were the sort to be utterly disgusted with him. Or, in the case of Joffrey, the type sticking around for a bigger reward later. So things went all the worse from there.


    Cirithil tried to bribe them with promises of part of it. But Coalmarsh told him he''d only do it if Cirithil resigned. This Cirithil would not be due, and he couldn''t get anyone else to help him. Neither could go into town and hire anyone because he wanted to make sure this kind of money was paid for all finders.


    No one had even felt pity for Cirithil because he really should have known better.


    There was no excuse for being this stupid and irresponsible. It would be a long way before William held any respect for Rundas or the others. Joffrey, meanwhile, was apparently dispatched on business with an entourage of guards. Reports indicated that he had been followed by a drunken and armed knight.


    "That''s why Rundas thought Elranor didn''t exist," blurted Jehair.


    "What?" said William.


    "He must have been in contact with people from this other world," said Jehair. "Some in the Demoration believe that gods are psychic manifestations. They believe the gods derive from something called the collective unconscious."


    "I don''t want to ever hear about Cirithil again," said William with a sigh. The High Priest''s existence had burdened an already lovely visit. "My only hope is that he will be struck by a bolt of divine retribution as quickly as possible."


    "I''d like to finish my thought all the same," said Jehair.


    "So Cirithil liked the idea because it absolved him of responsibility," said William. He was guessing at her line of argument. "And it let him lead a life of unchecked hedonism without guilt. Since the gods were fake, and we were all fools."


    "Yes," said Jehair.


    "I don''t care," said Auga, still reading. Uncle and his wife were back in town, making arrangements to keep Cirithil out of trouble.


    "In that, we agree. What are you reading?" asked William.


    "Book on experimental crossings," said Auga, flipping a page. "Made by the Sorcerers Guild. You don''t physically cross over to the other world. Usually, anyway, there are exceptions, like when a god pulls you places.


    "You send a phantom over that gets back the second you left when you''re done. But what you do in the other world affects what happens to you in the other. If you die here, you probably die relatedly on the other side. Though, it all varies by the world."


    "Where do you get all these books?" asked William, although it was foolish. Uncle had much easier access to books than Father, who had to import from the presses in Antion. The distance to Haldren was much smaller than the distance to Brisgald. Simple logistics raised prices, all the more so when Father had a book sent to be transcribed to print.


    "Father collects them," said Vorn. "Got inspired to do by your old man." William let it pass, though his foreign way of talking irritated him. "So, mind if I ask where you got the scar?"


    "In battle, a few marks of pride," said William with a smile. "You seem to have avoided the problem."


    "Well, I mostly stick to merchant work. Someone has to run things," said Vorn. He''d gotten complacent. "Not much of a fan of the war scars.


    "You ought to get that looked at."


    William remembered the scar Arraxia had given him. "It''s a mark of pride.


    "It shows I was in battle with a powerful demoness and was victorious."


    "To each their own kid," said Vorn. "But you''re facing would drive the maidens crazy without it."


    "I think it does already," said William with a smile.


    "Harlenor is awash with experts in combat," noted Jehair. "Some variety can''t hurt."


    "So, how have things progressed in Brisgald?" asked William. "Other than what I''ve seen."


    "Well, we''ve opened up some new mines," said Vorn. "Some of our people hit copper, and we''ve started digging. Even hired a group of Nakmar Dwarves to set up a colony to mine it, contracts and supplies being set up.


    "Uncle, set that up for us. And my people are in the transport business. And as usual, we''ve got the supplies of bog iron and such.


    "Your connections with them gave me a chance to do it. They seem to really like you."


    "I remember the conversation with Kiyora about it," said William. House Gabriel''s friendship with the Nakmar was a great boon to both. "Any trouble with the satyrs?" This conversation ought to have been had much before, but there was no time for it. He''d kept putting it off, and the letter still hadn''t been given.


    Vorn hadn''t been there when he''d arrived, and it hadn''t seemed right to give it to him. After that, everything was hectic.


    "None at all," said Vorn. "Arraxia, the new demonic overlord, had rigidly enforced her agreement with Uncle. I''ve had no raids, and that''s for the best.


    "And the bandits steer clear of these lands. A lot of them have old friends who resettled out here."


    "Now, our policy is to give them a chance to surrender," said Auga. "If they do, we provide them free transportation to one of the colonies. Whether they like it or not.


    "Estal is a popular destination, as is the Islands of Power."


    "You know, I heard there was talk of a war there," said Vorn. "Sorn has been gathering ships, and there''s talk they''ll launch a new offensive.


    "King Andoa though, well, he''s been kept shut up in his palace as usual. Nobody knows what he is doing until everything is decided."


    "Is that wise?" asked William.


    "That depends on what you think is going to happen," said Auga. "Vorn believes the whole thing is going to be a stalemate. It''ll be a waste of time. He wants us to adopt a wait-and-see approach."


    "It''s the only way it''ll go down," said Vorn. "Looking at those plantations made me into an abolitionist, Auga. They are completely unstable; everybody is living in constant fear and hatred. All you''d need to do is land some troops, and you could start a revolution.


    "That would put the Sornians out of business immediately."


    "Yes, Vorn, but you''re assuming their enemies know they are organized enough to do it," said Auga. "Dinis has been decaying for years. I''ve been there. They''d had one of their provinces gutted by a demonic invasion. So Kalthak will likely take the chance on the raid.


    "So they can''t put their full force on it.


    "Meanwhile, Chaminus has a decent fleet, but they can''t resist the Sornians. At best, they''ll slow things down long enough for a good deal. And who else is there to resist them but a few islands of pirates?"


    "Some of those pirates have Harlenorian blood, Auga," said Vorn. "Many of them are descendants of slaves who escaped from the Calishans. And King Nagos maintains relationships with them; he''ll probably make an alliance."


    "It would only slow them down," said Auga. "It would take either utter stupidity by the Sornians or brilliance by his enemies. King Nagos is competent but not an experienced soldier, and everything is against him.


    "Who else can lead? Emperor Octavus is William''s age and has never escaped his palace.


    "And Dinis is already facing serious problems. Especially with Kalthak seeking vengeance on the border."


    "What happened with Kalthak?" asked William.


    "Eastern Kalthak, William, the country hasn''t unified yet," said Jehair.


    "Basically, the Prince of Kalthak Abdul Sahshir has a skin disease that is killing him," said Vorn. William wondered if he could heal it. "There was a power struggle between him and his uncle, Asim. Apparently, they worked something out since Asim stepped aside in the end. Nobody even died.


    "But Zigilus staged a raid on Kalthak in the chaos that did a lot of damage. The Emperor dispatched his legions to destroy Zigilus. And a demonic invasion gutted the entire province.


    "It''s a perfect time for Kalthak to get even. And Sahshir is apparently both violent and desperate to prove himself.


    "What do you think, Jehair? You were there during the sacking of Zigilus?"


    Jehair bit her lip. "It would be more accurate to say that I was watching.


    "Laevian wanted an observer, but I took no part in the conflict. And the Flower Maiden sent me there on unrelated business I had already completed. I had several business arrangements with Imogen there and a few others.


    "As a druid, I am not so much neutral as in it for the woods."


    William thought about the problem and tried to remember the maps he''d seen in Carn Gable.


    "...What if Eastern Kalthak sides with Dinis?" asked William suddenly.


    "Why would they not do that?" agreed Vorn.


    "It''s the smart move," said William. "Dinis has already gotten a bloody nose for their raid. And if Sorn takes over the Islands of Power, Eastern Kalthak is a logical next step. They are the weakest shore Sorn will be in reach of."


    "They''ve got some ships," noted Vorn. "And I''ve heard that Sahshir invaded Zigilus alone during the fighting. He even allowed many of the survivors to enter his domain. And I have seen him as a formidable warrior, albeit slightly mad.


    "Sahshir has some ships, and allying with Dinis allows him to make his mark. And it also leaves his borders much more secure. Dinis isn''t going to invade a country they don''t border anymore; Zigilus is abandoned. It''ll be decades before they can repair it, and both sides need that border secure."


    "Then the question becomes, is Sahshir smart?" noted William, certain the answer was yes for no reason he could comprehend. Had he met the man?


    "He was smart enough to stage a coup without killing anyone. And to convince his uncle to abdicate," said Jehair. "And by all accounts, he has become quite popular.


    "I think he may make a decent King for as long as he lives."


    "Antion agrees," said Auga. "He''s popular with Zigildrazians."


    "Why?" asked William.


    "Zigildrazians regard themselves as property," said Jehair. "Zigilus was chosen to be destroyed. But Sahshir managed to amuse Zigildrazia. Then, he saved many of them so that they had a new settlement in East Kalthak.


    "Zigildrazia is not interested in intelligent foreign policy. Only in putting on a good show."


    William considered the problem of Tavish and his operations. They would have to be dealt with.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "...What are we going to do about these bandits? We''ll have to do something."


    "Kill them all," said Auga, who had a very practical mind.


    "Father has offered dispossessed soldiers the chance to resettle," said Vorn. "I think I mentioned that earlier.


    "It was my idea. We''ve had a lot of abandoned space, and raids by satyrs drove many people from the borders. And there were a couple of plagues in the days of Borinius that decreased things.


    "Setting up some new people there seems good. It is not as profitable as slaves, maybe, but it isn''t evil.


    "It also gives us a ready supply of fighting men who have a grudge against our neighbors and owe us everything."


    "Convenient," said Auga.


    Their journey led them out of the green lands and into a place much less green. There was underbrush closer to the road and unkempt trees. The air went from cool to cold, and the land became drab. Soon, the clouds were getting very thick and dark. Perhaps foreshadowing a downpour that had not yet come. Low rumbles could be heard. William wondered if the rain would symbolize redemption or grief.


    Soon, the trees that dotted the area around them became thicker. There was less open space, and towns needed William''s help a bit. He provided without fanfare, accepted hospitality for the night, and moved on. During this time, they learned that House Marn had been approached by Cirithil. He had been asked to transport the High Priest''s flocks.


    Letan had shut it down because only a madman would court famine.


    "The real problem is House Marn," said Vorn.


    "Why are they a problem?" asked William.


    "They control access to Savior''s Run, which is situated right by the mouth of the river," said Vorn.


    "And they are the primary contact for most offworlders.


    "A lot of Cirithil''s contacts come from there. If he sold the livestock to them, they could move it off-world in a day, and nobody would notice. And they have dealings with the Sorcerer''s Guild that are off the books.


    "I''ve been in one or two meetings, and he''s on them. I wouldn''t be surprised if he didn''t make a bit of use of their services."


    "Surely not," said William, feeling obligated to defend nobility.


    "I don''t mean prostitutes," said Vorn. "I mean information.


    "Politics in Antion has a lot of secret-keeping and blackmail in it. Letan operates almost entirely in Antion, so he''s got to be really good at it. But when you deal in those circles, they deal in you.


    "Maybe someone has leverage on him."


    "Why does that make him the problem?" asked William.


    "Well, they''ve got territory near the mouth of Savior''s Run," said Vorn as thunder roared overhead. "And because of some deals they cut ages ago with the spirits, they can move through it quickly. No one ever attacks them on Savior''s Run, ever.


    "It''s never happened.


    "So they don''t have to pay river guards, they don''t have to worry about losing ships or cargo. That means they can undercut the prices of everyone who uses the river with less risk. As a result, they''ve practically got exclusive access to trade there. Everyone else must take a long way, and most can''t get to Qor''Dana.


    "Unless you want to risk pirates in the Islands of Power. That means goods made near the river are much more expensive."


    "They''ve never forgiven us for ruining their neat and tidy system in Artarq," said Auga.


    "Yeah, see, when they bought Artarq from King Andoa. They more or less gained absolute control of the entire malas trade," said Vorn. "Not to mention trade into Khasmir and a lot of other places. They allowed huge amounts of corruption in the ports, so everyone relied on the river.


    "Then they got paid bribes from corrupt officials. They, in turn, undercut the competition. A lot of them want payback; maybe House Marn wants payback. We gotta hit them before they hit us again."


    "I know; I''ve been living there Vorn," said William. "Father has spent years ripping the system to shreds. All of the areas are directly run by competent officials loyal to Father."


    "Oh, right," said Vorn. "Well, that kind of brute force approach won''t work in Antion. Andoa deliberately made it so it couldn''t work. He didn''t like violence."


    "And as a result, we got Kafka," said William. "House Marn was very unpopular during its reign in Artarq. Father exposing Borinius saved the entire region. If he hadn''t been in that Castle, the Calishans would have walked in unopposed."


    "...Do you think that House Marn set Reg up?" asked William. "Neral Dinis can''t have acted alone."


    "Reg?" asked Auga. "Mother''s brother? What about him?"


    "Haven''t you been listening, Auga?" asked Vorn.


    "I''ve been reading," said Auga.


    "Give me that thing," said Vorn, snatching it and putting it in his pack.


    "Give me my book back," said Auga.


    "You can get it back after we finish planning our revenge scheme," said Vorn. "Not before."


    Auga fumed.


    William then explained, again, how Reg came to take over Ascorn, and Auga was very bored by it. She kept eyeing the mountaintops as the wind howled at them.


    "Anyway, the answer is no," said Vorn. "Noble houses control their people because they are afraid of losing prestige. If you abuse your authority and break your oaths, you''ll be disgraced. Duke Letan is very big on that, and that''s why he runs the operation.


    "Everybody knows he''ll only do what is necessary and no more.


    "Atravain didn''t benefit from it. And a foreign power would need a go-between. So it''s either Neral Dinis working alone, House De Chevlon using him for deniability." S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Who are we technically allied with?" said William.


    "Hawkthorne has it easy," said Vorn. "The House has utterly destroyed any semblance of honor or never valued it. His grandfather ran brothels for Elranor''s sake.


    "At the same time, other nobles disliked Baron Hawkthorne enough that he could never be a threat by himself. He needs outside support. So, while everyone hates him, he is never dangerous enough to justify wiping the family out. This leaves House Hawkthorne in a limbo where none of the normal means of chastisement work.


    "Vladimir plays proxy to a lot of criminal groups who hate vampires. Neral Dinis doesn''t fit everyone. And I heard he''s even done some off-world business."


    "So what would you suggest?" asked William.


    "I have no idea," said Vorn. "We can''t hit them directly. That''s not how it works. But messing with the economy is dangerous. Every market is connected to another; if you hit one, you hit them all.


    "We need a way to hit the criminal markets without hitting legal ones."


    "When a man who invests his money into an honest market decides he has had enough," said Jehair. "He takes his money out with any profits and puts it elsewhere. When a man who invests his money into a criminal market decides he has had enough, his throat is cut. Then he is tossed into a river to float away."


    "What''s your point?" asked Vorn.


    "...It was merely an observation," said Jehair.


    "I''ll keep it in mind," said Vorn.


    And then Kiyora appeared, blue hair flowing behind her as she descended in her school uniform. "William?! Where have you been?


    "I''ve been trying to get in contact with you forever!"


    "Yes, what is it?" asked William.


    "I''m sorry, who are you?" asked Auga.


    "I''m Kiyora Yagos, Dreaming Goddess; I''ve got business with my champion," said Kiyora. "Now, first, what is it with you calling on my power?


    "This whole place is seeped in dreams and intersects with my world, but I''ve been shut out. I swear someone has been embezzling my power or something because this makes no sense."


    "I was wondering when you would show up," said William. "How can I help?"


    "I''ve been getting a lot of reports from Seathorius of strange movements," said Kiyora. "And some mention the dead rising, though only after everyone is gone.


    "I sent scouts after them, and they are all marching by stealth to a place called Blackfear."


    "A move by Neral Dinis, perhaps?" asked Jehair.


    "Or by Sylvar," said Vorn.


    "I don''t care who it is, Will," said Kiyora. "There''s a village near here that has serious problems.


    "I just returned from it, and all the children disappeared. There was also a rat problem, and several other villages had the same problem. So take care of it."


    "Wait, so there''s an undead army rising, and you''re assigning me to kill rats?" asked William.


    "It''s on the way," said Kiyora. "It''s important. Geeze, you need to stop getting so deadset on grand events. Undead zombie armies are great fun to kill off.


    "But it''s not good if everyone is eaten by rats."


    "This is the first I heard of it. And I went through not long ago," said Jehair.


    "And who are you?" asked Kiyora.


    "I am Jehair," said Jehair.


    "Let me guess, you''re a secretly evil guest star," said Kiyora.


    "I prefer to think of myself as an objective observer," said Jehair.


    "Well, observe somewhere else," said Kiyora. "William already does that."


    "I''m on my way," said William. "Auga, Vorn-"


    "We''ll come with you," said Vorn. "This is the sort of thing we''ve got to handle, too. And I think I may know the village she means." What did that mean?


    "Great, I''m out of here," said Kiyora.


    And she was gone in a flash.


    Auga thought and then turned. "You go on ahead."


    "What about you?" asked William.


    "I''ll deal with the Babarassians personally," said Auga.


    "Wait one moment," said William. "I was given a letter for you and Vorn. Take this."


    Auga took it.


    Then William turned and gave Vorn his letter. Vorn pocketed it. "I''ll look at it when I get a chance. If this thing doesn''t go well, it won''t matter what Uncle wants."


    "He is the head of the Family, Vorn," said William.


    "Yeah, and I can''t think about letters when I''m outside," said Vorn. "You need to be in the right mindset when you read these things. Otherwise, you rush off and do something stupid.


    "Whatever it is, it wasn''t sent by faster methods. So, he doesn''t want a public display and doesn''t feel the need to rush it. You have to learn to take it easy sometimes. Rushing things is only going to make you operate badly.


    "Good luck, Auga.


    William turned to Auga. "What about the slaves?"


    "I''ll pick my targets," said Auga.


    And then Auga Gabriel leaped into the air and transformed into a giant, red dragon. Her scales gleamed as she beat her wings and flapped skyward with a roar. Jehair stared in shock. "Auga is a dragon?!"


    "Yes," said William. "Didn''t you know?"


    "Can we just go?" asked Vorn.


    And so they headed out as Auga flew across the sky at breakneck pace beneath an onslaught of wind. What was Jehair so worked up about?

 Chapter Eleven: Icebergs

    A chill wind flowed out over the waters of the south edge of the Haldrenian straight. It blew through the locks of Kata''s brown hair, causing her to bring her fur cloak closer. She had let it fly free for a time; on Tanith''s advice, she''d said it had looked better. And Tanith was glad she was taking the advice because without the braids...


    If only Tanith could get some other kind of haircut. Something more foreign. Harlenorian long hair didn''t really suit the dark skin. Maybe with some hair tied above her head, that would be nice.


    Nevermind.


    Elranor had seen a heavy frost over the land, distantly visible beyond the burgs. Kata said it got thicker the deeper in you went. Usually, Furbearers were the only ones to cross that far. More than a few caught their death fishing out here. They were beneath magnificent pillars of frozen water.


    But first, they had to get past the bergs. Like long fingers of ice, they rose into the air. The breath came from Tanith''s mouth in steam as they neared them.


    Kata and Sokar were with her, clad in heavy fur as well. Kata looked around at the ice as they drew steadily through the bergs. The ship they were taking was a shallow-bottomed longboat Sokar had chosen. The oars groaned as they slipped between two great towers of ice.


    Here lay the Incarnation of the Land in final repose. Waiting to return and deliver the people of the land true freedom.


    Or so it was said. Tanith had never cared, having only heard the legend in passing. Her interest in the Incarnation died when Anoa killed him with his bare hands. He wasn''t a threat after that. Neral Dinis had become the primary benefactor of the Furbearers then.


    "We shouldn''t be out here, Sokar," said Kata.


    "What''s the problem? We''re making good time," said Sokar, honing his knife with a smile. "Kata and I used to sail out here all the time, looking for the Incarnation of the Land."


    That old wives tale again?


    "When was this?" asked Tanith.


    "We were eight," said Sokar. "Though Tavish came out here fishing with us once. To get a look at things and learn our ways of passage."


    "I meant when the Incarnation died," said Tanith. "There aren''t a lot of specific dates." Very few historical documents mentioned specific dates from that period. William should have bothered recording time save in the most general of scopes. And some of the chronology was outright wrong when you read his documents.


    The Khasmir Campaign had been much longer than he''d made it seem. He''d been very introverted during that period. Mostly, he had just focused on his job and done very well at it. Kusher had always liked him much more than the others. When they hadn''t been discussing philosophy, they''d been killing demons.


    And they''d been heroes to the people for it. Danger, blood, fame, and ale, everything a warrior needed. Those had been some of the happiest days of Tanith''s life, but she couldn''t go on fighting the way she had. It wouldn''t work twice; that was a thing about magic.


    "He didn''t die," said Kata. "And I still believe in him."


    "You''re fooling yourself," said Tanith. "Anoa killed him in single combat on the edge of Qor''Dana. Everybody agrees they fought, and Anoa was on a rampage. He would never have let him live."


    "The Incarnation of the Land won that fight," said Kata. "He saved Qor''Dana. Why do you think Anoa didn''t burn it down? Because he couldn''t."


    "No, no, he did not," said Tanith, who thought it had been a bad move. "At best, he stopped Anoa from gaining total and final vengeance."


    "The Incarnation was trying to save Qor''Dana," said Sokar. "And he did."


    "It doesn''t matter," said Tanith. "Anoa had already won by that point.


    "He already ruled this whole place. He killed him and chose to spare them.


    "You''re talking about a later Incarnation of the Land. The one which came about after the fall of the Tarasifian Empire."


    "There was more than one?" asked Kata.


    "Yes," said Tanith. "Anoa killed one, possibly several times, and lost control of Harlenor. He was the elves'' go-between, controlled opposition.


    "He forced Tarasif into peace for a bit, was shot in the back to start a war, was reincarnated, and came here. If I have the time right. The records I got during my raids differed a lot."


    "So... you mean he might be reincarnated instead of coming out of the ice," said Kata.


    "I don''t know or care," said Tanith. "He''s not my god, just one of Anoa''s enemies. Ancient history, really. I only know about him because I was researching the history of Saint Nendas of Tarasif and compiling it.


    "The Incarnation of the Land is mentioned in many records, but he never takes center stage. That''s never been how he operated. That is exactly why he could never win. If you, Sokar, had stayed in the background, you''d never be important."


    "How do you know all this?" asked Sokar.


    "I read books," said Tanith. "Why don''t you visit me in Ran Telus is over. Or Carn Gable, we''ve got a lot of documents you could read there. Duke Vanion and my Father share a passion for history."


    "I might," said Kata. "So, what do you know about the fight between Anoa and the Incarnation?"


    "No idea," said Tanith, "Anoa the Bright has very few actual records on him. Most of our earliest sources date years after his death. And most of them are elven. Literacy was low when Anoa II took the throne.


    "He was the one who built all the roads and really organized things. That''s where our records start, and he rarely writes about his Father. When he does, it''s always focusing on how he handled famines and logistics.


    "Anoa''s status as the ultimate warrior was undisputed. He probably didn''t think it was worth mentioning. Anyway, you won''t find the Incarnation of the Land here. The only thing you''re going to see inside those icebergs is your own reflection."


    "Well, I don''t believe it!" said Kata. "Maybe things are that bleak in Harlenor, but my people have done pretty well so far. I''ll bet he''ll return any day now."


    "Believe what you want," said Tanith.


    She watched the rowers continue their work as they slipped on through large bergs. Sokar''s plan was to get out near the Babarassian encampment here. He wanted to assess the defenses and take it if they could.


    "Are you alright, Tanith?" asked Kata. "You aren''t acting yourself."


    "Because I''ve just helped foreigners assassinate a Lord of Harlenor," said Tanith.


    "Rius deserved it," said Sokar.


    "It doesn''t work that way," said Tanith. "Yes, Rius deserved it, but taking him out could backfire for House Gabriel. That''s why William wanted to keep the structure. You start knocking off nobles, and you get massive wars.


    "It shouldn''t have happened. We shouldn''t have had to do it.


    "If that idiot had just done his job, this never would have happened. He just took his bribes and invited other people in to fix his problems. He wasn''t at his post. He abandoned his post and let the enemy in!"


    "I guess we did something like that," said Sokar.


    "No, you didn''t," said Tanith. "You were stupid, but you were good. You didn''t get what you were doing. You didn''t know better, but Rius did know better or should have.


    "You know what the difference between a stupid person and a simple person is?"


    "What does that have to do with anything?" asked Kata.


    "A simple person doesn''t understand," said Tanith. "A stupid person refuses to understand.


    "A simple person you can teach if you knock them out of their illusions. But you can''t teach a stupid person. It doesn''t matter what happens; they''ll keep believing what they want to believe. And they won''t care at all if it''s true or not."


    "Well, what would you call a person who chooses to believe in something to try and make it real?" said Kata.


    Tanith shrugged. "A hero."


    Tanith said no more and bowed her head to look at the boards of the ship. Every moment now seemed a funeral procession as the currents picked up and they have pulled away. The skies were darker than ever, and major rain would soon occur.


    "Look..." said Kata. "We''re being drawn by a current now.


    "Something is calling us. Do you hear the wind and water?" S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The wind was howling now, and Tanith remembered the snows of Ruscow as she saw villages burning. The smile of a skull-faced her as she saw only herself. Memories came to her of the good feeling she got when she saw blood on a cook''s knife. She''d fallen in love with that feeling when she''d seen Agravain cut himself.


    He quilled before blood and wanted not to enter battle. But Tanith had wanted it more than anything.


    She''d watched Agravain, that spineless idiot, ask for his inheritance early. He had taken Father''s money and spent it on frivolous pursuits. And he, the miserable wretch, had been accepted back. All while Sunthred, ever dutiful, was treated the same.


    Ridiculous.


    She''d have killed Agravain there if Mother hadn''t stopped her. And other Lords had mocked Father.


    Tanith had made it her mission to erase the shame of that spineless, effeminate weakling. And she had done so, initiating such carnage on the Calishans as would never be forgotten.


    There were burial grounds for satyrs. Mass graves where they had all been exterminated, their bodies were thrown. Men, women, children, and even babies were all put to the sword by the people of the land long ago. She had spoken to some of those that remained as they lived a desolate life in the highlands.


    They had worshipped Tamar once before the Urishia had wiped them clean. Whole families were slaughtered to the man by their people just in case.


    All those innocent lives were twisted by things beyond their comprehension. Exterminated by spite by these brutal torture mongers. Baltoth had brought by shedding the blood of those who might disrupt order. And Tanith had avenged them, burning her way through the fools who thought they could escape it. As they had had no mercy toward the satyrs, so too had Tanith had no mercy toward them.


    Perhaps the spirits of the dead had driven her to seek that vengeance. To make way for greater glories and bring order from chaos. Looking at the emblem of Kreshlak in her hand, Tanith laughed as she raised it upward to the sky. And for the first time in what seemed forever, Tanith felt true joy. Not mirth or enjoyment of beer, but genuine happiness.


    Her cause was just.


    She fought for the honor of House Gabriel.


    Even as she did, their vessel moved fast until, at last, they crashed against the side of a barge. The ship did not break, but they were beach by chance. The force of it nearly threw Tanith from her feet. The wind howled ever worse as it grew dark and the snow fell in torrents.


    Sokar was setting up a shelter, but Tanith stood her ground, and the winds gave way before her. The snow did not touch them while she stood among them. And high above the clouds, Tanith beheld a figure, armored and within a chariot with wheels of fire. For a moment, it raced across the sky.


    "The spirits are trying to tell us something," said Kata.


    "That''s your imagination," said Tanith. "These spirits did not help you before; why would they help you now? What do you know of them, and what do they owe you?"


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Now they stood in the eye of a great storm, and Tanith stood gazing upwards. Around them was an island of ice, slowly chipping the surface away. Kata stared up at her as the shelter was raised and the firewood was started.


    Then, looking past Tanith, she saw something. "Look there..."


    "What is it?" asked Kata.


    "There''s someone on the ice," said Kata before snatching up a club. "We''ve been drawn here to save him."


    "You are wasting your time, Kata. He''s dead," said Tanith.


    "That may be the sign," said Sokar.


    "No, he might be being kept alive by magic or have sealed himself within," said Kata, and she struck the ice. "We''ve got to at least try."


    "Then do so," said Tanith.


    So it was that the crew began to hack at the ice, trying to force their way through toward a vague figure. Tanith stood by, and the wind and snow did not touch them. Yet the ship was pulled away and broken. On and on, the Furbearers labored to retrieve a corpse, yet the effort was not in itself meaningless.


    And then the ice broke.


    Out of it came a skeletal, frozen corpse clad in ragged clothes that had once been of fine silk. The broken form of a dragon could be seen beyond. Then, in a moment, the snow and wind faded, and they were standing on a plane of snowy ice. An entire peninsula formed from the unnatural storm.


    But Kata saw only the corpse. Her face was horrified, for she now saw in an omen of her own people. Or so Tanith guessed. But Sokar''s eyes widened as one who had seen a vision of a legacy once glorious. A legacy that would soon come again.


    "He''s just a corpse," said Kata in horror.


    "That is not our people, Kata," said Sokar with relish in his tone. "It is our salvation.


    "The Harlenorians cannot be relied upon. But another power served us well in the past. A force by which we kept the Harlenorians at bay for an age.


    "This body is between life and death.


    "So we should seek power from Neral Dinis, our old companion."


    Old companions? Was that some kind of term of endearment.


    Tanith halted and saw a book, perfectly preserved. There was also staff to one side and a strange device. Quickly kneeling down, she picked it up. "...Look at these clothes and this book. These are nothing like you would see in Harlenor or Calisha. So it must have been the Incarnation from Tarasif." She looked at the book, opening it. "Perfectly preserved.


    "Let me see...


    This could be very helpful to my research. I know these letters. This is an account of the Incarnation of the Land''s histories. It looks like it predates the fall of the old temple system.


    "Apparently, he realized he was being used as a political tool and made a run for it to set up shop somewhere else. The land had become hostile to him. He realized he would have to initiate an unprecedented bloodletting to take it back. So he sought to go west, seeking a land without war. Rather like your people did.


    "From the looks of things, he didn''t find it.


    "He tried mediating disputes, but no one acknowledged his authority. He tried making friends, but the land was torn by war. And people only respected warriors. Several times, he found people who asked him to mediate, but he always moved for compromise. As a result, many of his verdicts were unjust.


    "He did strip an evil King of power and end a war in Calisha involving countries that no longer exist. But doing it made him unwelcome by both sides.


    "His credibility destroyed, friendless and alone, he came here on the winds. He highly praises your people and how you cooperated to survive the God War''s bitter aftermath. This must have been just after Zeya and Elranor killed Typhos; that''s the usual marking place for the end.


    "The Incarnation of the Land..." Tanith halted as she realized how utterly foreign this person was from him. "He was a monster.


    "He abandoned his friends, nation, people, and honor. All for the sake of impossible dreams even he didn''t believe in. And so he died alone in the ice, abandoned in turn.


    "A fitting end for such a fool." But there was no venom in her voice. "Though I suppose he was an honest one."


    Kata stared and looked at the handwriting. She looked to Tanith. "You can read that?! You''re fluent in Tarasifian?"


    "I learned to read it by threatening the priests to teach me," said Tanith.


    "What will you do with the book?" asked Sokar, looking at her.


    "Translate it, maybe," said Tanith. "If I ever have the inclination and the wars settle down. But I''m currently working on a different project, one much more interesting than his. So it''ll take a lot of studying to figure it out."


    "We can''t just leave his corpse here," said Kata. "We''ve got to do something."


    "We''ll take the body to shore and bury him," said Sokar. "We''re sure to have gotten attention after that. And the boat is done anyway. So take the supplies, and let''s run for it.


    "I will take the staff and give it to Father when we come to him. It will be given a place of honor."


    And they did, hurrying along the thick ice toward the shore. Sokar knew the place well, and they got undercover when they reached the trees. They stole along the shore, carrying the body on a stretcher. Sokar held the staff close by, but he felt uncomfortable while Kata kept looking at the oceans.


    The wind seemed to sing as it flowed through the ice, and Tanith thought the song seemed that of the merfolk. And it resounds through each of them in turn and settles on Kata the most. She listened keenly when Sokar turned toward war.


    But the song never came to Tanith.


    And at last, they saw their enemy.


    The Babarassians had set up a very large compound. Many trees had been felled, and some were left lying. These had made a crude settlement where, even now, people were docking. Numerous well-dressed men were speaking on the shore and were very well-armed.


    "Put the Incarnation down here," said Sokar. "We will bury him later.


    "Tanith, can we raid that?"


    Tanith saw the lack of walls on the inland side. "Yes, but we can''t fight them all. Well, unless you want me to do all the work. If I were you, I would try to get your people out.


    "Find where they are, free them, and get under cover.


    "Find a safe place to hole up or make a stand and get someone to scout out where everything is."


    "I already know," said Kata. "I can hear the spirits of this place whispering.


    "They''ve dug a pit where they keep everyone waiting for the sale. But their plans to sell us have failed because of all the Harlenorian attacks. They''ve been fighting, and Father has beaten some of them. Many have released the slaves and fled; they say the Gods have commanded it.


    "Some have left to seek different merchant work. But the rest are determined to keep fighting."


    "How are you hearing them?" asked Sokar.


    "Maybe some part of the Incarnation of the Land''s power has rubbed off on us," said Kata. "Follow me. They say that doom is coming, and we must save our people soon."


    "Do it," said Sokar to their men.


    And they did follow, and the snows themselves seemed to conspire to let them pass easily over the land. The hills above them, hiding the way to Ran Telus, came nearer. And soon, Kata came to the pit she spoke of, completely out of sight. A guard was by there and looked about to speak, but Sokar bore him down from behind. Then he knocked him unconscious. Tanith broke the lock, and the cell was opened.


    Beneath them were many people caked in mud and ankle-deep in water.


    "Lower a rope," said Sokar. "Women and children up first. Come quickly; there''s not much time. If anyone cannot come up themselves, we''ll send someone down to get you."


    "Prince Sokar, Princess Kata," said one. "You''ve returned to us."


    "Just Sokar, please," said Sokar. "Tanith, keep watch."


    And they did.


    Wind and gusts began to kick up at that moment as the land itself conspired to their victory. The Babarassians were all drawn indoors. While other Furbearers kept as servants escaped outside doors. It was too perfect, too devoid of blood or pain.


    And yet beautiful in a very childish way.


    Now, how to slaughter Babarassians?


    But they didn''t do anything of the sort.


    Sokar, Kata, and Tanith spent three days freeing slaves. Kata would know where the weaknesses were, and they would save the slaves. Over and over, it happened, and soon became known that Chieftain Osris Their Father had been fighting and retaking several villages from the Babarassians. House Kern had taken no action but was bolstering forces on the border.


    "Why to take no action?" asked Tanith. "He could have finished you off in a day. No offense."


    "Maybe he doesn''t want our blood on his hands," said Sokar. "I doubt it was out of kindness."


    The people were sent away as they continued. The Babarassians sent out many searches, but the snow kept them hemmed in. Their ships could not leave, so the land itself conspired to keep them in place.


    For what?


    "We should free everyone before we attack," said Tanith. "And the Babarassians might just kill them rather than let them recaptured. I would do it if I was sure I''d lose them."


    "Are you serious?" asked Kata.


    "Yeah, why wouldn''t I?" asked Tanith. "I''m on my own, in hostile territory. If these slaves escape, they''ll return and help my enemies either as laborers or soldiers. Killing them might also demoralize the people who came to rescue them.


    "Our loss is their gain."


    "Like the pirates," thought Kata, looking out over a frozen lake slowly thawing. "Could we call for help?"


    "We could," said Tanith. "But I don''t think that''d be a good idea. See, if you sort this out yourself, you''ll be respected for it. If you have to call for help, you''ll owe someone a favor, and people will think you''re too weak to defend yourself.


    "So they''ll just try to bribe your protector or wait for them to be distracted and attack you again. And, if you do owe a protector fealty, they will want payment at some point. Probably a lot more payment than they bought you for.


    "A day or two ago, I''d do it in a heartbeat?


    "Now?


    "I think you have a chance."


    "It might be our only option, though," said Sokar. "We''re stronger than we were, but I don''t think we can fight a big war. More Babarassians might arrive. Heck, there might be more on the way. I''m sure my brother and Father have been fighting. And we could go to them for help, but...


    "For all I know, they''re already dead." Sokar slumped in seeming defeat, and Tanith wondered how to help him.


    "You could go to my family, House Telus," said Tanith. "Father is an experienced warrior and ally of House Gabriel. He''s rich and powerful and has recently viewed King Gavin as a rival. Especially since this move on the Furbearers could be considered a proxy war.


    "If House Kern repossesses your land and gives it to veterans, it would put you in a bad position. William''s home, Carn Gable has a western border with the capital, Carn Garsh. And they''ve pulled troops from it recently. There is yet to be a member of House Gabriel present there anymore. Gavin could lay siege to the place quickly enough if there was a full-scale war.


    "If we were fighting a border war with House Kern, we wouldn''t be able to help them."


    "What does all that mean?" asked Kata.


    "It means House Telus is interested in ensuring the Furbearers don''t get wiped out," said Tanith. "And since you border House Kern as well as them, you could play one against the other.


    "You don''t want any faction to win here, Kata. Even if a ''good'' faction won completely, they''d eventually become bad. They''d get complacent or corrupt, or an unworthy generation would succeed over a great one. And sooner or later, they''d conquer you simply because you were there.


    "Nations don''t have friendships. Only interests."


    "Do you have friendships?" asked Kata.


    "I have uh... friendship interests," said Tanith, shifting and feeling a blush on her face. "And William." William was special; somehow, he and Kusher.


    "You love him, don''t you?" asked Kata.


    "What?" asked Tanith. How did that even begin to make sense?


    "Well, he seems to be the only person you won''t ever turn against," said Kata. "He doesn''t really strike me as just a friend for you. At least not, in the same way you are friends with Farwa or Rius or... well, Suran."


    "I guess," said Tanith. "I mean, I may marry him someday. I like the guy, I enjoy his company, and we play off one another well. Our houses are rich and respected, and it would be an ideal strategic alliance."


    "Princess Kata," said a Furbearer. "A dragon is coming!"


    Kata looked up. "Let me see."


    They rushed to the top of the hill they were behind and looked out. Sure enough, there was a vast dragon with red scales flying.


    It descended toward one of the Babarassian ports with a roar. A wave of flame utterly consumed the ships. Screams were heard as men chose between a fiery death and a freezing one. Darting above the arrows of the Babarassians, the dragon dropped like a stone. As she did, she torched a line of flame in the Babarassian houses.


    The flames burst through frost as the dragon surged to other towns to do the same there. Men rushed out of the new construction, trying to put it out with snow as the wind picked up. Five Babarassian colonies were being made, and each one lit up. Soon enough, the flames surged high into the air.


    Then, as the Babarassians fled out of them, now homeless and without escape, the dragon came. Her flames descended on them, burning them to utter ashes instantly. Their arrows bounced off her armor as she burned them all. Some fled, but none escaped, for she dove to and fro, obliterating everything. Then, landing momentarily on a hilltop, she roared triumphantly and flew off, her wings making a noise like thunder.


    Everyone was dead.


    The colonies were in utter ruins, and there was no sound save the crackling of burning wood.


    Cheers resounded from the observing Furbearers.


    "...I can''t say that wasn''t efficient, Kata," said Sokar. "But get off the high places! That dragon might come back. We must get to Father at once."


    "No," said Kata. "First, we have a friend to bury."


    "What the hell was that!" said Tanith. "After all the trouble, we went to train you into a decent troop of soldiers; a dragon wipes them out! There wasn''t any carnage! You didn''t do any of it for yourself!"


    "What does it matter how we free our people?" asked Kata. "If it happens, it happens."


    "But it does matter!" said Tanith. "The Babarassians were your nemesis! No one is going to remember a couple of skirmishes in Ascorn! A few years from now, people will say Prince Sokar assassinated Lord Rius. Then got bailed out by a total deus ex machina!


    "There wasn''t any buildup to this! No quest to get the dragon on your side!


    "William just has tea with his Uncle, and they take the leash of their pet dragon to kill all their enemies!"


    "They have a pet dragon?" asked Kata, voice dumbstruck.


    "Varsus convinced one to start working for them," said Tanith. "Nobody knows where it lives. I wouldn''t; they don''t like me."


    "Well, then it follows naturally from what came before," said Kata. "William saved us; we''ve freed everyone. So let''s just let things go back to normal and-"


    Wrong answer.


    "Kata!" said Tanith. "This is what happens when you are good but weak!


    "Just because you''ve survived this long doesn''t mean it will last. You''ve got to prepare for another war."


    Silence.


    "Look, that''s a good point," said Sokar. "But there is nothing we can do about that now."


    "We''ll bury the Incarnation of the Land, get in contact with Father, and see if we can avoid this ever happening again."


    And so they returned across the snow. They were now trudging through them with greater difficulty. Their food supplies were still enough, but they were so tired. And at last, they came to the Incarnation of the Land.


    Laying his body on a hilltop overlooking the Babarassians, they built a high cairn over him. The labor was long and difficult, for there were few here. But Kata prayed by his corpses as they did. And torches were lit by it while the fires of his final victory settled against the shore. As they did, they began a Furbearer funeral rite.


    "The Incarnation of the Land inspired me," said Sokar. "He taught me that when you wait for another to save you, others pay the price."


    "The Incarnation of the Land inspired me," said Kata. "He gave me hope when I lay in that cell. And that hope was answered."


    This was an ancient tradition among them. One that Tanith had thought long since dead, but apparently, they were reviving. She''d never seen a ceremony like this in real life. And now she had to say something. But she was not his friend and had a very low opinion of him. But who else could serve in her place?


    "The Incarnation of the Land was a great hero in his own way," said Tanith. "But of how he inspired me, I shall say nothing." It wouldn''t be appropriate.


    "That''s probably for the best," said Sokar. "Now, we must at once meet with my Father.


    "Our friends have secured our southern front for the moment. If we secure the one to the north, we may not need to fight a battle at all.


    "Let''s go."


    And everyone sprang into action.


    Tanith decided to just let things play out. These people had their own views, and she could respect that.

 Chapter Thirteen: Castle Baltiran

    The land had gone from less good to downright bad and rained half the time.


    Exposed roots overgrew the path, and no Lords dwelled in this place. Here and there, they saw ruined castles that had once stood tall and proud. Now, however, they were falling into ruins, and vines were overrunning them. The land was choked with brambles, and the roads were falling apart. Once or twice, William tripped on them and nearly sprained a leg. Vorn found it amusing, much to William''s irritation.


    He hated feeling so undignified; he hated being cold, being dirty. And more and more, he wished for a decent inn, even if he would never admit it. Jehair kept looking at him, expecting him to ask, but he insisted on caves and what shelter could be found. He was not going to let Felix beat him on this. The only hospitality William accepted was from villages he healed the sick in.


    That was nice enough. The food was much less than he was used to, but they helped by hunting wild pigs. There were always more boars, and Jehair was very good at finding them.


    The only consolation was they''d saved a lot of money. Even so, William hoped Wrynncurth would be willing to listen to him when he arrived. His present state was travel-worn and beaten.


    "Problem with heavy armor, eh, Will?" asked Vorn, helping him up and dusting him off.


    "Yes," said William. "You learn to deal with it."


    Massacre spent a great deal of time eating those nearest to the path. It slowed them down, but it seemed like it had to be done. The pavings of the roads disappeared entirely, and they no longer saw merchants. The villages were well-fortified, and the people more cautious. Vorn often communicated with them, speaking of maps and plans and giving orders.


    "Auga has been gone for some time," said William in the inn of one. "How does she intend to fix the problem of the Babarassians?"


    "Find their settlements," said Vorn grimly. "Burn them all."


    "What about the slaves they already have?" asked William.


    "Not our problem," said Vorn with a bit of a snappish sound to him. "Look, William, I know you like them. But we can''t let Babarassian colonies get set up.


    "We''ve got to wipe them and face, or we''ll look weak. The Furbearers had their chance to resist, and they botched it. You''ve already gotten them out of debts you didn''t have to.


    "Dead innocents is the cost of war.


    "It''s why I never wanted to get into the business."


    William looked at one of the castles and then at Vorn. For a moment, he was hesitant but decided to just asked. "Shouldn''t we rebuild some of those castles?"


    "Nobody lives near them," said Vorn. "This land is given over to the Druids to ensure the land doesn''t fail. Originally, it was ruled by Lilas Asgar, but he sold it to the crown and left. Most of the other nobles had been killed. But Lilas never lived in any of those castles anyway.


    "So King Andoa gave it over to the Druids."


    "You mean to say that Harlenorian people were sold as chattel," said William.


    "It''s his noble title," said Vorn. "He can do what he wants with it."


    "No, he can''t," said William. "It is a sacred duty, a sacred trust.


    "To throw away the land you rule like a silver candlestick is an outrage."


    "Look, it was completely unprofitable, and he didn''t have the money to make it profitable," said Vorn. "We own the castles, of course; House Gabriel insisted on that. But we can''t hew trees without consulting them except for places we own.


    "And the towns mind their own business under the eye of House Korlac."


    "Well, why not just rebuild the fortresses and post garrisons?" said William. "They might become occupied by bandits."


    "Now that you mention it, Dad had to chase some out of several," said Vorn. "Alright, I''ll talk with the people out here. We can move some people out there to maintain them."


    "Why don''t we go out there ourselves?" said William. "You can order some people to go help you check them out. If nothing else, we can get a floor plan and clear some of them out."


    "Right," said Vorn. "Good thinking. There''s no sense in letting them get overgrown.


    "I''ll go see to it now. Jehair can help us out here."


    "Be wary of Jehair," said Felix suddenly.


    "Why?" asked Vorn. "What''s the problem?"


    Felix checked for plants again; he''d done that a lot and then checked outside the walls. "She has her own objective here," said Felix. "She knows everything but has done very little. Knowing requires action."


    Vorn nodded. "Alright, I''ll do some digging on that after you head out. Communicate with Atravain; it''s no problem. We''ll figure out what''s up."


    "Don''t do it in front of any flowers," said William. "She can listen by them."


    Jehair, as it turned out, was out on business. So instead, they headed out with Massacre and a group of men toward the castles. Without Jehair, it took some doing, but some local men knew enough to help. There was also a group of three mercenaries from Kalthak. They were Isamu, Urus, and a very beautiful orange-haired girl named Oresa. Oresa wore too few clothes to not be magical and had huge breasts and very wide hips. But there was a kind of purity to her despite these things.


    He wondered how they had come out all this way.


    "What are you all doing out here?" asked William.


    "My sister disappeared some time ago," said Oresa. "I was hoping to find news of her. I''ve been healing who I can."


    "I wanted to see it," said Oresa. "So we walked over there, and then we walked back. It was a great adventure."


    "We spent two days walking through the mud," said Isamu. "And we didn''t fight anything."


    Their clothes agreed with their story, except for Oresa. She was flawless and undirtied. Her hair wasn''t even out of place. William saw no reason to press the matter.


    The castle got closer, and soon, they found a moat overgrown with lilies. Vines were scaling up the walls. The gates had long since withered away, but someone had set up a functioning drawbridge.


    "What is the meaning of this?" asked William. "Even if this device was magical, there''s no reason it ought to be so well preserved. Vorn?"


    "Bandits couldn''t have done this," said Vorn. "The Druids are operating out here."


    "The druids might be using it for their own purposes," said Urus. "It is a logical place to shelter and meet."


    "Well, what''s wrong with that?" asked Vorn.


    "Vorn," said William. "If they are, they haven''t asked permission. The castle is ours. We ought to be paid or at least notified."


    "Look, are we storming this place or what?" asked Isamu.


    "No," said William. "We''ll enter with the servants and pull down vines or underbrush. We''re here to ensure it doesn''t get pulled down by nature." He looked back to the men, several dozen. "If you run into anyone, don''t talk or fight; just alert the others."


    And so began the basic maintenance of a very old castle. It soon became apparent that many parts of it were overgrown. Vines and weeks were choking everything, and more people had to be called in. Moving about, Urus stooped low very suddenly and picked something up.


    "What is it?" asked William, taking it.


    "Look at this," said Urus. "It''s a token often used by druids of Laevian.


    "It bears the symbol of a Leaf, a flame around it, water drops above, and rock below it. I have no idea what it means, however."


    "Will, you close with Rusara, is that a thing?" asked Vorn.


    William took it. "Yes, I''ve seen her.


    "It''s no great secret. But the markings are hard to sketch out on a stone and require special techniques to be legitimate. These ones have such markings.


    "They leave it places to demonstrate that someone was here."


    "There''s a cooking fire or what''s left of it here," said Oresa. "It''s been used several times."


    Felix took the stone. "This thing was etched recently; the cuts are brand new."


    William halted. "... This means that the druids have been regularly using this place."


    "My guess is that someone had a meeting here," said Urus. "And they were interrupted by us. They weren''t expecting Sir Vorn to be here, and whatever their goal, they did not want to discuss it."


    "I''ve picked up traces," said Isamu. "Well hidden, but they missed a few. There were quite a few people. Those vines were damaged by a lot of people going down them."


    William followed and looked down it. They were damaged but thick and strong, so it would have taken a lot of droids. "Look around for any more signs. We''ll continue our mission."


    The mission did continue.


    Walls were cleared off, and hedges trimmed. So some were so beautiful that Vorn decided to leave them, taking up most of the courtyard. A few minor repairs were also affected, putting stonework back on one another. But the labor was long and hard, and once again, that sense of misery was one of them. Some will fight tooth and nail to prevent them from finishing their goal of tearing away vines.


    The passages were a labyrinth, and many parts had fallen in. Oresa looked at all of them with interest. William, for his part, preferred to walk behind her while doing the manual labor.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "What was this castle called?" asked Oresa.


    "Baltiran," said Vorn, who was sketching out a floorplan. "I think. Though it might be a few miles west. Lilas had never lived here; his family had moved out to the towns a long time ago. It is easier to do business that way.


    "Course, with the Wood Elves shutting off all transit, it all goes to the King''s Road.


    "This place is huge.


    "That settles it; I''m calling for a garrison to be set up here. Here and in every other place. I don''t like the druids stepping over the normal chain of command. And if they have no bad intentions, I''d prefer it if they told me to my face. Hiding this is bad business."


    "The Druids of Laevian aren''t businessmen," said Urus. "They want to preserve nature.


    "Perhaps their priorities have shifted."


    "That is too far," said William. "From Felix, I should take such an implication. You, however, are only walking alongside this fellowship."


    "William is right," said Vorn. "If you have any statements like that, you privately bring them to me."


    "Forgive me," said Urus. Isamu looked about to flare up, but a dark-skinned man behind him tapped him on the shoulder. "It was not my place."


    "...Alright," said Vorn. "So let''s say the Druids are keeping a few secrets. That''s the way things are, and there''s no point in questioning them." And he pointed down toward the courtyard. "Not until we have something to discuss.


    "So we''ll leave our people here to finish things up, head back to the village, have a few drinks, and talk about old times."


    Isamu shrugged. "Fine by me.


    "This trip has bored me stiff anyway. Let''s head to Blackfear and kill undead after this, Oresa."


    "That sounds good," said Oresa.


    When they were gone.


    William looked to Vorn. "Do you trust these people?"


    "Foreign mercenaries are used a lot in Antion, Will," said Vorn. "Easier to control people who don''t have divided loyalties. Now, Father sticks to the old tradition, but I prefer the new way."


    "Foreigners care nothing for this land, Vorn," said William. "Use mercenaries without commanding their respect, and they''ll dispose of you."


    "Duke Vanion does fine by it," said Vorn.


    "Yes, but they are Harlenorians," said William. "And much of Father''s efforts are dedicated to ensuring their loyalty. He makes an art form of rewarding good soldiers. All to ensure he is necessary, respected, feared, and, if possible, loved.


    "It takes much of his time to do it. And we do raise large levies of local troops for our armies. The men of Artarq fought very bravely and well in Khasmir; it is a credit to their blood. Mixing with foreigners has not diminished their steel yet."


    "Well, the trick is getting their loyalty while making it advance their plans," said Vorn with a shrug. "You may be right. I''ll double-check my men when I have the time.


    "No sense in being careless."


    Only once they were back, Vorn got back to work with new vigor. The towns were much nicer than the castles, and William did not like that. There were decadent pleasure houses and more women like Maius or Mia. He thought he saw them here or there. Messages were sent, and William observed Vorn organizing the rationing of supplies. He also ordered new crops to be planted in fallow fields to make up for the coming shortages. And areas were cleared to handle more.


    "Lilas owns most of the businesses here," said Vorn. "See, he owned the economy before he sold the place. So he gets his cut anyway.


    "All the merchants here owe him money."


    "So he gets the benefit of being a Lord without the responsibilities," said William.


    "...Yeah," said Vorn, seeming odd. "Seems pretty bad."


    "I think you should pay off their debts, Vorn," said William.


    "That seems wrong," said Vorn. "He did all this business fair and square."


    "Yes," said William. "But he is getting benefits for a position he does not do the work for. When was the last time he came down here?"


    "...I don''t think he''s ever come back," said Vorn. "But he sends a lot of representatives."


    "Do you come down here often?" asked William. "Lilas has been in Ascorn this whole time. How much have you heard about things out here?"


    "Yes," said Vorn. "Yeah, I think I see your point. I could pay a lot of their debts.


    "But things aren''t really that simple. I got to work out a lot of deals for this, and it''ll take time. I don''t want to make any overtures until we finish up." He paused. "Let''s get something to eat."


    "We can help with any famines," said Vorn as they drank together over a table and chess set. "Never let your populace starve, eh Will?" Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What about Jehair?" asked William. He moved a piece.


    "Right, right," said Vorn, moving a piece. "Her.


    "What do you recommend?"


    "Nothing," said William. "She''s already done whatever she is going to do. The Druids don''t have much sway in Blackfear, and she needs me.


    "If she is planning something, I am her cover." He moved a knight.


    "What do you mean?" asked Vorn. "Her cover?"


    "Well, she''s probably already done everything she wants to," said William. "I suspect her plan, insofar as she has one, is to initiate a series of good deeds. All of them are good in their own way but calculated to set events in motion.


    "Ultimately culminating in this situation. Felix caught onto it first, of course."


    "Congratulations," said Vorn, taking his turn.


    "Thank you," said Felix.


    "Explain it," said William, moving a piece.


    "William is a credible witness," said Felix. "And Jehair calculated, based on his reports, that he was something of a milksop. As did many.


    "The general opinion was that William''s achievements were exaggerated, if not fabricated. Thus, William was expected to be a competent but harmless individual who could be led around by the nose.


    "Seathorius largely altered that."


    "Hey," said William.


    Vorn laughed, but Felix did not. "My apologies, sir."


    "It''s fine," said William.


    "Jehair was planning to use William as cover," said Felix. "He would accompany her straight to Gel Carn and play the role of a kindhearted good boy. This would give her an excellent alibi. Combined with her reputation, it would ensure no one suspected her.


    "By the time any questions were asked, the chaos would be too great to investigate.


    "However, I suspect this was a larger plan by the Druids of Laevian. Jehair is likely only the face of the operation and contact for organized crime."


    "So, what''s your plan?" asked Vorn.


    "Play my part," said William. "Keep her close and following to Gel Carn. That should keep her occupied while we fix this. I''m not important enough to play a major role. At least this way, I can keep her near.


    "When the time is right, simply have her arrested."


    "Checkmate," said Vorn, moving a piece in.


    William halted. "Oh, damn.


    "In any case, so long as everyone knows and we prevent her from getting in contact with the Druids, it should be doable. I have Massacre, Felix, and my sword; I can handle her."


    "Well, you''re better at this than I, so I''ll take your word for it," said Vorn. "Another game?"


    "Of course," said William.


    "So uh, you ever meet Saphra Delenay?" asked Vorn.


    "No, why do you ask?" asked William.


    "She''s a real beauty, only a bit older than you," said Vorn, resetting the board. "Not very powerful now. But I''ve got the sense that''s going to change.


    "Could be a smart match for someone one day."


    Things were looking up. But William decided to change the subject and remembered, at last, the letter. "That reminds me, I kept forgetting everything going on. But Father gave a message for you as well and one for Uncle."


    "You are late with the messages, aren''t you?" asked Vorn.


    "I''ve been fighting off an entire plague. All while dodging conspiracies," said William with a smile. "I plead your forgiveness."


    Vorn took it and read through it. As he did, William felt the urge to be somewhere else but stayed where he was. Looking around at the empty tavern, he saw stone walls and drab ale. Few travelers and a lot of leaks with a barmaid who kept her eyes on them.


    Vorn looked at her. "Get the others out of here, would you? I gotta talk to my cousin about something important."


    She nodded and went into the tavern. Vorn put the page down and handed it to William. "What''s this?


    "Why am I getting stepped over?"


    William read it and saw a very professional explanation that Auga was being given a position. Mainly because of better qualifications. "Stepped over; what are you talking about?"


    "Auga is being given control of Carn Gable and not me. I''m the oldest, and I''m of full blood," said Vorn. "I ought to be in it. Not my adopted sister."


    "Vorn, it''s not personal, and it is not a matter of blood," said William, thinking about how to spin this. "Father didn''t want to send Auga there any more than he did you. But it''s her bad luck."


    "Bad luck?" asked Vorn. "She''s getting an entire castle!"


    "Well, of course. Carn Gable is an integral position for our operations," said William. "If we were to be attacked by rivals in Haldren, that is where they''d hit us. Auga has military experience as well as other advantages.


    "Running Gel Carn would be wasting your talents.


    "I love the place, but it is icy, cold and mainly acts as a trade stop and border fortress. And without peace with King Gavin, it''s not even the formr. Auga''s got to take the job because she''s the only person available who fits it. Varsus has got to take care of Brisgald eventually."


    "I could run the place," said Vorn. "Just because I''m not a good fighter doesn''t mean I can''t command. And I know more than anyone here about economics."


    "That''s why we can''t give you a place just yet, Vorn," said William. "Think about what you told me; Duke Letan has a complete stranglehold on the malas trade. And the Sorcerer''s Guild is running riot here, inducing Isriath to curse people.


    "The High Priest is running get-rich-quick schemes. And someone has started distributing malas. We''ve had an entire conspiracy based on economics against it. If you get tied down running a castle in the middle of nowhere, we''ll be lost.


    "We need someone who can find a way to break House Marn''s monopoly on Savior''s Run. And also do something about all these schemes. It''s hurting Seathorius, Qor''Dana, us, and all three Harlenorian Kingdoms. Everyone in Harlenor is counting on us to figure out who is striking at the three kingdoms. And you are the only person who can do it."


    "What does Uncle need me to do?" asked Vorn.


    "Well, in the long term, we need to find the names and areas of operation for the people doing all this," said William. "Talk to any sources you can, but only take chances or meet someone with security.


    "Right now?


    "We have to deal with Baras'' Bane and the other diseases and get rid of this debt empire. Lilas seems to be using money to keep control of too many people. I can heal diseases, but I would need to figure out where to start in this merchant work.


    "Carn Gable is not going to starve; the harvests have been good.


    "The really important thing, though, is you must find out who moved all the malas to the ports. If that had gotten to Haldren, we could be facing a demonic invasion. And I''m afraid some of it could have been shipped to Escor; Magicora always orders it. You could smuggle it easily enough."


    "It could be legitimate," said Vorn.


    "Then why don''t we know about it?" asked William.


    "Long term, figure out how these black markets work. Talk to Coalmarsh and Ata in the temple if you need to investigate the temple. Both of them have been in the High Priest''s council. And we also need someone to monitor the grain supply. If something were to happen to the grain supply in Antion...


    "We''d have mass starvation. With all the other lands in chaos and a bad harvest on the horizon, you''ve got the most important job in House Gabriel."


    Vorn nodded. "Yeah, you''re right. And I''ve got the run of places like this anyway. With a bit of legwork, I could make my own castle.


    "Actually, paying off many debts from worse-off merchants could be a neat trick. It could free things up, at least.


    "What are you going to do?


    "Get Tanith out of hot water," said William with a laugh. "She stirred up a hornet''s nest when she was in Gel Carn, and it caused problems. I also have to fight in the Tournament of Kings in her place.


    "And on top of that, I have to finish writing several books worth of adventures that will not be fun to experience."


    "Rough work kid," said Vorn. "Varsus headed that way; you should talk to him about this. Dad gave him several special orders I wasn''t privy to. It has something to do with a campaign in the Blackmarsh.


    "Usual sort of secret stuff. I''d better make plans for rationing, just in case. They do that in the army, and we can do it now."


    "I don''t think Varsus is in a position to do much, but I will," said William. "Oh, and pray.


    "And get everyone else to pray. I suspect Elranor''s lack of action is more due to our failure to let him in than indifference. I expect he can make things much easier for us, and if nothing else, we can give him more to work with in a future crisis.


    "Often, those who pray to him end up in the right place at the right time.


    "This is a personal experience."


    "Father used to say something like that," said Vorn. "Yeah, you''re right. We''ve been out of communication with the old man for too long."


    William blinked. "Old man?"


    "Well, white hair and pale skin?" asked Vorn. "That''s what everybody tells me.


    "Not young.


    "I''ve never seen him."


    "I would call him well-preserved at the worst," said William. "Anyway, we''ve lingered here too long. I''ve got to get to that village. Give me the directions and then tell Jehair to meet me at it.


    "I''ve delayed too long as it is." William paused. "Where are all the members of the Sorcerer''s Guild anyway? I''ve never seen anyone."


    "It''s sort of a secretive thing," said Vorn. "Most people who are part of it don''t advertise the fact. It''s not like Magicora; who you are on the inside is not the same as who you are out there.


    "They hate Imogen, though. Several times, they''ve caught her, and she always gets away."


    "Why?" asked William.


    "Imogen doesn''t play by the rules," said Vorn. "See, her power is stealing things, and as a Goddess, she steals metaphysical concepts.


    "So, let''s say you''re about to become a god.


    "Imogen shows up and steals some critical components. Her whole thing is unbalancing existing systems. The Sorcerer''s Guild is all about order."


    "So is Baltoth," said William.


    "Well, there is order and order," said Vorn. "Baltoth is all about public demonstrations. The Sorcerer''s Guild likes to make sure nobody knows they are being nudged.


    "But Imogen likes stirring things up and causing flareups.


    "They''ve been trying to capture her for years. Never managed it, though."


    "Well, find a way to get in contact with them," said William. "Or someone might decide to order a purge. There''s enough to justify it to power-hungry men at this point.


    "And we''ve got a lot of questions that need answers."


    "Not yet, you don''t," said Vorn. "You''ve got a meeting with the Goddess Isriath, and she just might turn you into a snake, kid." Then he ruffled William''s hair and moved off. "I''ll meet you there after I finish things up.


    "I''m gonna find a way to pay back House Marn while we''re at it."


    And he headed off.


    William sat in his chair and smiled. Then he stood up and was a Paladin once more.

 Chapter Fourteen: The Journey South

    The clouds stood overhead, ready to burst forth in a downpour. It was like a storm William had seen earlier, but stronger and worse. As he walked, he mulled over events, trying to think of how Jehair fit into all this. What was her connection to the elves who acted as Lady Atravain''s servants?


    Was there a connection? Or was he only imagining events, and Jehair truly was only a mercenary?


    It did not matter.


    William had done his duty, and that was the important thing. He could not decently have done otherwise, so he''d have to deal with it when the time came. And they journeyed on, Massacre munching. Here and there, they''d see Vorn''s men clearing away parts of the road, cutting at thorns or bushes. Others were checking damages and taking notes on stones in need of replacement. Or setting them back into place, when they could find them. These were well-armed, and it seemed to he was setting things to rights already.


    William thought it would only be right for this land to be given new Lords and soldiers from the wars. Vorn seemed to him an excellent choice. But such thoughts did not keep him from moving as quickly as he could. William was now deadly afraid that some great event would happen while he was late.


    So for a few days, they went over the roads at a rapid pace. Vorn told William a great deal about it. The cobblestones here had been stolen over the years. Now all that remained was dirt and gravel, and he was terrified it would pour, and he''d be caught in the muck. Yet nothing of the sort happened, and he passed several stone quarries. In these places, worked by crews of dwarves, stones were being set out over the roads.


    They had reddish-tinged hair and wielded spears and short swords. Some had bows, like the Nakmar. On that very spot, blocks of stone were drawn up, broken, shaped, and put down with great efficiency. It was obvious they were practiced people at this.


    He marveled at the speed and skill by which the dwarves worked. They had great focus.


    "Who are these?" asked William.


    "Naker dwarves," said Jehair. "One of the northern tribes. They live at the foot of the Black Mountain and in the Border Hills north of Gel Carn.


    "This tribe seems to be doing good business."


    One of them nodded to him, and William halted briefly by the partially paved road to offer prayers to Barden. Massacre brought rabbits and sacrificed them on the altar to burn there. The feeling made him glad, and William stood to continue on, and their pace sped. Behind, they saw dwarves making the offering as well, as though they had only remembered to do so.


    Yet William could not forget that the Naker Dwarves also had fields. These were being tilled by halfling slaves. Dressed in rags, they worked beneath the overcast sky with plows as watchmen kept an eye on them. They looked exhausted, and put hard to it and he wondered how they had come to be here.


    At last, they came to the village.


    It was a run-down, miserable affair, with falling in walls and people who were healthy. The buildings were raised off the ground with old nets underneath them. There was a brook where people were fishing as the water flowed into the woods. The road went to the side here, not daring to enter the foreboding and dark forest ahead. But to William''s surprise, Luke Atravain was sitting on a rock, putting together a crossbow.


    "Is it done yet?" asked a brown-haired girl with freckles.


    "Almost," said Luke. "I''ll be there in a few minutes. Crossbows aren''t easy to make, you know." Then he looked up. "Give me a moment.


    "William, where have you been?


    "After we heard you were in Brisgald, we thought you''d get here before us."


    William sighed. "I took my time on the road."


    "What?" said Luke. "You took your time?


    "But look around you, you can see what has happened-"


    "Fighting off multiple plagues and unraveling conspiracies is not easy work, Sir Atravain!" said William. "If I drive myself to my death, I will be of no use to anyone. There were many pressing matters along the way!"


    Silence.


    "Sorry," said Luke. "We''ve had our share of problems as well.


    "We''ve rounded up some local priests, and I''ve had them healing people in the villages the Paladins can''t get to. Of course, I had to take them off the plantations, but by now, we''ve lost most of the slaves.


    "Peter is dead."


    William halted as he remembered Peter Atravain, filled with fire. Without him, William would be in a social ice age. "I see. I remember he took my part against Rundas.


    "Did he die well?"


    "Saved all our necks," said Luke. "He drove an entire force of satyrs away. If Rutger and he hadn''t gone to Khasmir over their parent''s advice, we''d be finished. But, when it came time to withdraw, he was caught by a spear.


    "They wanted revenge for the ones we killed. And we''ve had several more fights like that since. No one else died; we knew well, but it has not been fun.


    "I wish I''d known him better."


    "Well, all we can do is honor his memory and ensure that the task you and he set out for is completed," said William. "I regret I did not know him well.


    "Was he in Castle Atravain?"


    "Yes," said Luke. "I remember you didn''t socialize much. Now I know why."


    William looked to see that the gallows were raised high and bleak in the mist. And from them were two elven men. Their necks were broken, and one of them had violet skin. William stared, watching them dangle, and wondered what had led to this. At their feet was a sign;


    "Bandits, ye be warned."


    "Why were those men hung?" asked William.


    "I know these men," said Jehair, voice grim. "These are Druids of Laevian.


    "Why have they been hung like bandits?"


    "Sir Joseph Korlac did it," said Edara sadly. "He and his men caught them and a large contingent squatting in an abandoned castle. He placed them under arrest, but they fled out a back door.


    "But his men were waiting there and seized them.


    "Once done, he came here and had them hung in sight of the wood. He specifically hung the elves."


    "Korlac isn''t a racist," said Luke in surprise. "I don''t understand why he''d do that."


    "He''s sending a message," said Jehair. "He wants to punish King Faras and us.


    "If I had a guess, Korlac believes that the Druids are involved in this crisis. And he also believes that the elves may have engineered it. But, unable to prove it, he has specifically chosen to hang two elves as an example.


    "While releasing the others."


    "That is common law when dealing with such incidents," said Saul. The tawny-haired, sharp-eyed noble had gotten more toned. He was polishing his armor. "Hanging the two most guilty or authoritative individuals then letting the rest go is one means of mercy.


    "If he believed they were elven agents, executing the elves would sever that," said Rutger. "And it would take decades to repair. But, it would also send a clear message; Back off."


    "...Well," said William, desiring to turn people away from a blood feud. "I''ll pay him back for it in the Tournament of Kings when I get the chance. Though I certainly won''t take his life.


    "Luke, what are you doing down here?


    "You must have some mission." These hanging people were Jehair''s compatriots. Why would Korlac feel the need to kill them?


    "I was planning on hiring some hands to work the fields," said Luke. "And I''ve already managed to get a decent deal for it."


    "Discuss it with Vorn when he gets here," said William. "He should be coming by here.


    "He knows how all this operates better than I do. I have only a loose grasp of economics. And this place seems to accept his authority, technically. And his wife will need to be told what happened to Peter Bailey."


    "Yes, I''ll handle it myself when I can," said Luke. "Follow me; we''ve been patrolling this place trying to fend off satyrs and deter bandits.


    "Have you lost any friends?"


    "Too many," said William. "The first friend I lost was Kusher during the Khasmir Campaign. He was a satyr but a great warrior. He saved my life more than once, and his advice helped me become my own. And we lost quite a few of our group whose names do not come to mind.


    "The plague is handled?"


    "Yes," said Luke. "We''ve already covered most of the villages in this region. But the locals still have their children gone."


    "Are they dead?" asked William.


    "I don''t think so," said Luke. "Apparently, Isriath played her harp and drew them all into the swamp. Then, she said they wouldn''t be returned until she was appeased.


    "I''d go myself, but...


    "I don''t have the power to fight a Goddess. Korlac might have been sending the message to Isriath as well." Birds descended toward the gallows, and William moved to get them.


    "Back, you wretched creatures," said Jehair. "Back!" And William wondered who she was talking to. "Leave the dead in peace!


    "William, let me cut them down. This kind of end does not before anyone, hanging out here for the crows."


    William looked at her. "Very well.


    "Felix, get them down. We''ll give them a proper burial under Jehair''s instructions. Any message that could have been sent here is long since sent. Luke, find them a priest."


    They buried them just as William had said.


    William went to the village. And meeting the Chief, Hasmond, who spoke at length with him. It turned out that the druids had been taking in criminals and escaped slaves. The villagers had made a good profit by taking them in until recently.


    Apparently, they often helped in transporting materials as a waystation. And many of those materials were illegal in nature.


    "You mean to say that you''ve been knowing helping thieves," said William.


    "It''s better to profit by them than be forced out," said the man. "They''ve used this place either way. We''re very distant from the law, and if we don''t cooperate, they''ll wipe us out.


    "All our neighbors deal with them.


    "So we either have to leave, die, or play alone."


    "That''s why Korlac did it," said Edara. "House Korlac hates unlawful activity of any kind.


    "He is effectively sending to message to everyone;


    "Give up your evil ways or suffer the consequences. Or something like that."


    "It might be an effective deterrent," said Saul. "If House Korlac was credible.


    "But they''ve been completely shut out for years. No one takes them at all seriously."


    "I wouldn''t discount Korlac," said Luke. "He''s smart, and his Father is ruthless. And things are changing right now. If we''re not careful, John might decide to use the chaos to hang everyone here.


    "It would cause problems for the weakened gangs. And it would be technically legal."


    "He wouldn''t, really," said Edara.


    "I''m not saying he would," said Luke. "But it is possible House Korlac could see this as their opportunity to pursue their vendetta. And the best targets to take would be people who cooperate with them." He looked to Hasmond. "You have to stop breaking the law and have nothing more to do with these people.


    "Don''t fight, but don''t cooperate or help.


    "John Korlac is coming one way or another."


    Murmurs of fear came from the people. There were dwarves, humans, halflings, and even a few satyrs, though no elves. But no children and William remembered with a chill what had happened.


    "Cooperating was how we got into this mess anyway," said Hasmond. "That''s why all the children were taken."


    "Hasmond, you''d better explain in-depth," said Saul.


    William noticed Alasa taking notes. Her garments were white and fine, and she looked very beautiful. He decided that it would be best for this to be well known. "Is she in your company, Luke?"


    "Alasa is with us, yes," said Luke.


    An elven agent with Luke and an elven agent with William. They were keeping on the nobility and their actions. This in itself was not unreasonable, but that they were able to do so effortlessly was concerning. All the more so because Luke seemed to regard it as nothing odd.


    If the elves were connected to events, what could they hope to gain?


    Jehair had mentioned several times Neral Dinis and tried to focus their vendetta on him. But thus far, Neral Dinis did not seem involved at all. Save for putting Reg up to taking over Ascorn. Jehair had a vendetta with him, of course.


    It was too soon to say.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Hasmond was silent, looking from face to face.


    "Hasmond," said William.


    Hasmond nodded. "I''ll explain.


    "As you wish. Since coming here from the Border Hills, our people have dwelled here for hundreds of years. During those days, the demons of hell had emerged from the lands of Adrianeth. Many of us were forced away. Blood soaked the stones, and they are red to this day from the great conflict.


    "When the dust settled, not all of us returned.


    "We sheltered with the ancestors of Duke Borinius. And from there, we created villages and acted as smith workers and others. People came to dwell with us over time, and we became a diverse sort. Humans, elves, dwarves, and even some satyrs.


    "But..."


    "What happened to the children?" asked William.


    "Isriath happened," said Hasmond.


    "Isriath?" asked Edara. "The Lady of Music has been in several other places. I''ve seen someone like her."


    "Yes, she played upon her harp against us and drew all of them away from us," said Hasmond. "They followed her into the swamps and never returned. We could not even raise ourselves to follow her.


    "Although, the satyrs have avoided us thus far, drawn away by music."


    "But why?" asked William. "What was her motivation?"


    "There..." Hasmond halted. "We had a contract of sorts. You see, we''d been suffering from a plague of rats-"


    "A plague of rats, too?" said Felix in a low tone. "There is no way all of this could be a coincidence. Someone has engineered this."


    "Is it the nature of servants to speak among their betters in House Gabriel," said Saul, an edge in his tone. The tone was biting and had an edge of authority to it. The others looked to him and thought some power play was underway.


    "Felix is well-accustomed to making vital observations," said William. He remembered being put on display before. "Though no observations about your Father come to mind at the moment, Saul. Other than having a seat at every table."


    A murmur came between them.


    Silence and the silence became worse. They were all looking to one another, caught between the two. Neither wanted to be an enemy of either House, and Letan was the more prestigious, technically. But House Gabriel was the stronger. Finally, William and Saul''s eyes met.


    William had not forgotten his treatment by Letan.


    "Can we settle your vendetta later?" asked Edara. "When the Kingdom is not falling apart. We can''t afford to have a vendetta."


    William shrugged. "As you wish."


    "We''ll let the matter pass," said Saul. "Go on, Hasmond."


    "Well, Isriath appeared with a great display of wonder and lots of light," said Hasmond. "She came before us, said she was from the Sorcerer''s Guild, where she often stays. She offered to get rid of the rats for us if we did her a favor in return."


    "What favor?" asked William.


    "They simply wanted us to look the other way for a series of shipments from the Sorcerer''s Guild," said Hasmond. "Most of the time, they go through Brisgald, and there are patrols to ensure it. But, with all the banditry, things have been creeping out.


    "We had no choice; the rats were spreading plague and devouring all the food."


    "Understandable," said William. "Did it work?"


    "...Yes," said Hasmond.


    "Well then, the first step is to find out how it happened. Find out if any wrongdoing was done by the villages," said William. "Once that is done, we initiate any necessary reprisals.


    "Last of all, we convince the Fairy Queen to give the children back. Now, we''ll have to find her for that and then convince her to do things our way. Preferably without trading anything of value in return."


    "You''re a good harper, aren''t you?" asked Luke. "I heard you battled a plague demon using music."


    "My harp is destroyed," said William. "It was broken during the journey. I don''t know why I kept the pieces, but I suppose I hoped I could put them back together. Perhaps I could ask her before she turns me into a snake or something." He paused. "Hasmond, you need to start growing as much food as possible and stockpiling it. We''re likely to have a bad harvest with all this chaos.


    "You might make a very good profit selling food."


    "Don''t I know it," said Luke. "You know, Rius'' lax hand is causing my Mother a lot of trouble."


    "William?!" said a voice. "William over here!"


    William turned and saw Vorn hurrying forward with troops. Turning, he saw him. Then he looked to Luke. "Excuse me."


    He hurried off. "Vorn, I didn''t think you''d arrive so soon."


    "Had to come here through a rainstorm," said Vorn. "I wanted to catch you to get your thoughts on a plan to fix all this." He looked to Luke as he came. "Luke, good to see you, but I gotta talk to my kid cousin here."


    "So, what''s your plan?" asked William.


    Vorn led him to one side, and William looked to see Saul observing them while the others talked.


    "I have a plan that can annihilate all our enemies without striking a blow, William," said Vorn.


    "Tell me what it is," said William. "And don''t speak too loudly."


    "All you''d have to do is open up the trade lanes," said Vorn. "Savior''s Run is the main shipping line between Artarq and Antion. And it''s become even more lucrative now that Seathorius has settled down. Now, Marn can give anyone easy access using his private ships, and that can get people all over the place.


    "But he gets to pick and choose his clients and chooses the order. Outside of royal commands and reinforcements. As a result, he''s always making a killing, and everybody wants to use his ships. It guarantees you won''t lose the cargo, and it''ll get there way faster. So virtually every noble house that isn''t House Marn''s enemy is invested in it big.


    "Now what happens if Savior''s Run is opened? So that nobody attacks ships anymore?"


    "All of the people invested heavily in Savior''s Run will lose a fortune," said William.


    "Exactly," said Vorn. "What if we negotiate directly with Arraxia? She''s good at keeping her minions in line, and she''s got power. Kiyora is the other major power, and Queen Dawn will be only too happy to get the extra tax revenue.


    "House Gabriel has no investments in Marn because of our long-term rivalry. You don''t invest in somebody you hate. But many criminals have put up money to ship things through it under legitimate guises.


    "We can wipe them all out. All of them in one strike, and it''ll happen anytime we want."


    "What about the people, Vorn?" asked William. "All of the people who will lose their savings? There are sure to be uninvolved innocent parties who get caught up in it."


    "We can buy them out," said Vorn. "Remember, we''ll have access to the means to help them."


    "We''ll be enslaving them, Vorn," said William. "It might get us some short-term benefits, but it will discredit us. Take this opportunity, and you''ll damn us for good. We''ll never be anything but social climbers."


    "Well, we gotta open the river sometime," said Vorn. "It''ll be good for us in the long term, good for everyone. More trade means more money and business."


    "More money and business means it will be more difficult to regulate. We''re already having trouble," said William. "And if we alienate our fellow nobles, it will be impossible. Everyone will try to seize every advantage they can get, and it''ll fall apart." Looking up, he saw Saul speaking with the others.


    This was bad.


    "So what do you suggest?" asked Vorn.


    "Can''t we just tell them we want to open it?" asked William. "Luke is over there, and several other nobles, including Saul Marn. Do that, and everyone can prepare for what''s coming. Then, if everybody knows that Savior''s Run is going to open, Letan can get compensation. Then it can be done in a controlled way.


    "Then we''ll have a better reputation, and it will be clear that Father is a principled individual. We''ll no longer just be social climbers.


    "...I should probably not publish this book for a couple years after I finish it."


    "What do you mean?" asked Vorn.


    "If we publish a book detailing our economic strategy, our enemies will adapt," said William. "If we are going to do economic warfare, we''ve got to take them unawares. Chip away at their profits and holdings little by little, or get them to take stupid risks with their money.


    "Risks that we know won''t pay off."


    "Probably not," said Vorn. "I''m gonna run the idea over by them now."


    William paused. "There is something you ought to know about this village."


    He told Vorn what he had learned, and Vorn listened carefully.


    "Well," said Vorn. "Lilas has a lot of control out there. He set up his tendrils out in this place, even if he never really began operations.


    "He must have known what his people were doing. Or at least some of it; he''s very meticulous. Alright, yeah, I''ll buy him out. I should have been let in on this. I''m the one taking care of everything out here."


    And he hurried over.


    "Hey Will, what''s going on?" asked Luke. "Saul is worried, and I get the feeling you aren''t talking about the weather."


    "Vorn has a proposition he wants to run by all of you," said William.


    Silence as it was explained again.


    "...I don''t see how this is going to shut down the criminal operations, Sir Vorn," said Edara.


    "Saul could probably tell you," said William. It was obvious Saul was the best at politics. Assuming he was, this was a real opportunity.


    "Saul?" asked Luke.


    "If you are a money lender and you loan people the coin they need to start businesses or buy farmland," said Saul. "Now, ordinarily, when you give a loan, you want to wait until they pay it back. But, if you get hit by unexpected costs and you don''t have the reserves to pay, what do you do, Edara?"


    "You call in your loans," said Edara.


    "Exactly," said Saul. "So what happens if you can''t call in your loans?"


    "Isn''t that a contradiction?" asked Rutler.


    "Technically," said Saul. "Theoretically, anyone can call in a loan they have made. But, let''s say you are a moneylender to a powerful king. If you try to call in a loan on him, he could just chop your head off or laugh in your face.


    "When you get in that position, you have a lot of debt. And you can''t access the coin to pay off the debt. So what do you do?"


    "Bargain for time," said Luke.


    "And if that doesn''t work?" asked Saul.


    "Take out a loan," said Edara.


    "So, what kind of person would give you such a loan?" asked Saul.


    "It''d have to be someone rich and powerful enough to expect a return," said Luke. "Or someone who cannot afford to see you go down."


    "Right," said Saul. "These criminals who have forced my Father''s hand are very rich and hoping to get richer. However, their recent losses will have damaged confidence in them."


    "A lot of people have lost confidence in the nobility," said Rutler. Judging from his tone, William had a feeling he was one of them. He prayed that Rutler was not suffering too badly from the loss of Peter.


    But he didn''t know Peter or Rutler well enough to say anything.


    "True," said Vorn. "But we are making a public effort to correct that error and serving for free.


    "Criminal organizations aren''t like noble families. Your faithful retainers will kill you in a heartbeat if you lose money. So chances are, there are already heads rolling. And with a lot of their minions cut down, they won''t be able to expand.


    "But they are going to come back. Too many people are invested in what they provide."


    "The first blow struck against them will send them reeling. Then they will get more foreign money," said Saul. "Elements of the Demoration often pay neverending streams of funds on many worlds. They are terrified of losing control. There will be assassinations and favors and blackmail, and they will return. So, we should set up our second blow to strike when they begin to recover."


    "So what if we annihilate their holdings at the precise moment they receive an influx of coin?" asked Rutler.


    "We break them and their supporters," realized Luke. "Everyone loses everything, and they eat eachother."


    "So what do you suggest, Sir Vorn," said Saul.


    "Harlenor has always been a warrior culture," said Vorn. "There are many kinds of warfare. Now, the old ways were always burning villages and such, but that is passing by.


    "I choose to call this;


    "Economic warfare.


    "We have to do three things to destroy the enemy. First, it is a form of attack that does not utilize raw, physical violence. More sophisticated but potentially devastating.


    "First, we have to bankrupt them, make them lose all their money or most of it. A noble family without money can survive for a bit by name and deed. But a criminal organization with no money can''t pay its soldiers; it can''t buy merchandise.


    "The problem is that criminals don''t disappear because their organization goes under. They go into business for themselves. So the other thing we need to do is stop them from getting any more recruits.


    "So far, we have done this.


    "Many of their fewer pawns have flown the coup. Others are jumping ship or have been killed or fled. Of these, some will return.


    "However, the core problem is this. As long as there are huge numbers of restless fighting men with no income, they''ve got recruits."


    "My Father has said something similar," said Saul. "Give these men land and a prospect of advancement and retirement. Then thousands of recruits will become hundreds. Then hundreds will become dozens. Once the criminal operations start to recede, they can''t force the law to cooperate."


    "Gel Carn has huge swaths of unoccupied land to the south, you know," said Rutler. "Peter and I went there. It''s rolling fertile lands that got depopulated in a series of demonic invasions."


    "It''s true," said Edara. "I''m from that region. The population dropped dramatically during an invasion by Adrianeth and has never recovered. Much of it is verdant farmland, just with demons."


    "The problem is that we need someone to loan them money," said Saul. "It can''t be any of us; we''d be accused of trying to buy their loyalty."


    "Why not Adrian Wrynncurth?" asked William. "I''m heading there already, and Benarus rules in the name of the Heir of Kings, who has no real power as of yet. I could discuss it with him when I get there."


    "So we stockpile coin and warn of the honest people, in one way or another," said Korlac. "If every single noble house pulls strings to get them to pull out when the time is right, we can get most of them out. And we can put aside a fund to pay for any damages to legal property."


    "Which means Korlac could investigate each business for how much they are owed," said Luke. "And if they refuse, they have to explain why and forfeit the bailout. That should keep him off the people out here.


    "And once we have all those investigations, we can strip them of their ill-gotten gains. Then use them to compensate victims. Or fund public works that have been falling apart. The King''s Road is almost a dirt path in some places."


    "What about the other nations?" asked William, who was from Artarq and Haldren. "They will have an opinion."


    "Haldren isn''t involved in it, and neither is Escor," said Vorn. "Calisha is our enemy, and Baltoth is notoriously difficult to corrupt. Sorn might be a problem, but Sorn is about to engage in a very expensive war, win or lose. Even if it is a swift victory, they will be setting up new plantations.


    "So, we could probably just get them to sign off on wiping out their rivals.


    "If we give them a reasonable price, they''ll probably take the money and the benefits and let it happen."


    "But can we actually negotiate with Arraxia?" asked Rutger. "She''s a demon."


    Saul considered it. "...It has to be House Gabriel or no one."


    "What do you mean?" asked Edara.


    "I''ve read the accounts of Arraxia, and I''ve spoken with eyewitnesses," said Saul. "She is petty and vindictive and is not a rational actor and has a god complex that is impossible to shake. On the other hand, William and her interactions seem to be that of a girl and her beloved pet."


    "Excuse me?" asked William choking.


    Saul smiled. "It was a mere metaphor.


    "Arraxia seems to hold you in some respect and twisted affection. At least, insofar as you resist her attempts to put you down."


    "More or less," admitted William. At least someone had read his book. He had no intention of rising to this fool''s bait.


    "If Vanion Gabriel can get her to agree with this, Queen Dawn can easily be brought in," said Saul. "She''s reasonable, and nobody else is in a position to stop us. Father has good relations with her.


    "House Korlac has wanted revenge on the criminal underworld for generations of humiliation. They will take this opportunity. To do otherwise would be to betray their core principles on a fundamental level."


    "Calisha could have the money to bail them out. Theoretically speaking," said William. "Although I doubt Baltoth would use such tactics."


    "If so," said Saul. "It could prove to our benefit.


    "We can keep a watch for that and use it to destroy them politically. Revealing that they are in the pay of Baltoth would be a perfect pretext. And once we arrest one person for working for Baltoth, others can fall as well." Then he halted and considered something. "May I ask a question, Sir Gabriel?"


    "Yes," said William. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Why did you two decide to bring this plan to us?" asked Saul. "Was it because you thought we would deduce and counter it? Or did you believe it would benefit your House more in the long term?"


    William looked to Vorn, who shrugged. "Go ahead, Will."


    "I have no desire to bankrupt innocent people for the sake of revenge on men I have never even met," said William. "Vorn''s plan is brilliant, so far as I can tell. He is a master of economics.


    "I just didn''t want innocent people to get hurt."


    "That makes sense to me," said Luke.


    "Such a policy is humane," said Saul. "But can it not be taken too far. If one is not willing to make sacrifices, one can achieve nothing."


    "If you make sacrifices without looking for alternatives, you lose everything," said William. "I am who I am because I refused my only escape route out of principle. Had I done otherwise, I would be working for demons."


    "I suppose it is a question of what you sacrifice," said Saul.


    "War should be conducted with as little violence as possible," said Vorn. "People shouldn''t prey on the weak."


    "We are Harlenorians, Vorn," said William. "To prey on the weak is nature.


    "It is the innocent we do not prey on. Weakness is a form of sin."


    "That''s a bit harsh," said Luke. "Not everyone can take care of themselves. What about someone born a cripple."


    "Raynald De Chevlon has a withered arm and many disadvantages, and he has beaten them," said William. "One should be judged by what one does with the gifts they are given.


    "Or so I believe."


    "Weak men do what they like," said Rutler. "Normal men do what they must. Heroes do what they can."


    "I didn''t know you were a poet," said Edara.


    "A personal philosophy," said Rutler. "Peter believed it and so do I."


    "Luke," said William. "I have to go at once.


    "I can''t delay any longer. Isriath might lose interest, and that could be very bad."


    "Then we will not detain you," said Saul. "Sir Vorn, I will speak with you.


    "Sir Gabriel, I believe, has the business of his own."


    "Thank you, Saul," said William. "Give your regards to my Father, and tell him I hope this crisis has not left him in ill health."


    "I will," said Saul.


    "Do you really mean to confront two goddesses?" asked Jehair.


    "I have to make an attempt," said William. "Let''s just get this over with."


    And they ventured into the darkness of the wood to face two goddesses. At least now they had a method to strike back at the criminal organizations. William could only hope they lost everything once they opened Savior''s Run.

 Chapter Fifteen: Battle of Music

    The journey into the woods was a difficult one, with many roots and low-hanging branches that could trip you up. A few starlights gleamed through the clouds here and there, easing the journey by night. Jehair insisted on going by night for reasons William did not altogether understand. Apparently, the Wood Elves liked going by night, so it was better to move there and be alert instead of the day.


    "Auga is a dragon?" asked Jehair suddenly. A bit delayed, but yes. "How did that happen?"


    "Yes, she was recruited into the family by Varsus," said William. "He ran into her when they were children, relatively speaking. And he talked her into joining House Gabriel''s side.


    "She didn''t have any of her memories or not many. In fact, she could hardly speak.


    "So Mara more or less adopted her. When I met her, she was at least a few decades old but was about my level of maturity. Rusara made her take human form for the most part as a security measure, but she can become her true self at will now.


    "We keep it secret, though I imagine it will come out now."


    "Wouldn''t a golden dragon have suited your emblem better?" asked Jehair.


    "Bah," said Massacre in agreement.


    "Gold dragons can''t fly, and all of them live in the far east," said William.


    "It was an attempt at humor," said Jehair.


    "I hadn''t noticed," said William. Then he halted within a clearing. "Alright, listen up. I''m going to try to tap into Isriath''s song. It''s going to be dangerous, and it probably won''t work. But if it does, I could be ensnared by whatever spell she cast.


    "Both of you are older than fifteen, so you''re exempt."


    "Wait a minute, dwarves and elves live here," said Felix. "Would not the maximum age be-"


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "I''m only-" began Felix.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Massacre is right. Just assume it varies by race," said William. "Anyway, this should lead me to wherever she took the children. However, it also might ensure me. You are to restrain me if I behave oddly and not let go for anything."


    "I understand," said Felix, drawing his sword.


    "Isriath often associates with the Sorcerer''s Guild and Magicora," said Jehair. "She seems to be a kind of go-between for them, though she is also a Goddess of Themious. I encountered her several times on my journeys in Dinis. I do not think she would make this kind of decision of her own accord.


    "Though she often trades favors. Perhaps she is paying off some debt."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Maius does not operate in these areas to my knowledge, Massacre," said Jehair. "Though she and Isriath are often inseparable. They usually utilize their powers in tandem. Enchanting music finds an intoxicated mind easy prey.


    "Still, I was given to believe that the two limited their association to Themious."


    "Then you didn''t know anything about the brothels," said William.


    "I knew of them," said Jehair. "I don''t go near such places and rarely move away from wild regions for long periods of time. And I operate in several worlds."


    "I want to know how they got in," said Felix.


    "That can be learned later," said William.


    And kneeling down, William put his hands together and began to pray. Then, focusing his mind upwards and outwards, he sensed around him. And drawing his sword, he raised it upward. "Lord Elranor...


    "Guide me to save them, please."


    And closing his eyes, he rosed upward and found himself walking almost on his own. He wondered if he could stop it or if it was beyond his control. And he wondered if anything was really in his control at all or if he had only the illusion of it. Following the path that lay before him, his sword in hand, he walked in a trance.


    A dim breeze rustled through the leaves. The air swirled around them as the moonlight widened further in. Until, at last, he came to a clearing and saw before him Isriath. She stood beautiful and yet fay in the clearing, a harp in hand with many bells upon her flowing green garb. Her arms were slender, and her hair was long and braided gold, while her eyes were brought blue.


    She was here an image of dignity and wonder, yet terrible. For William knew she was dangerous as well as beautiful. And he knew now that looking at her might well be the last thing he knew in his life.


    And then a flash of fire ruined it.


    Maius descended exactly as she had been in the brother, spinning on one long leg with the other in the air. Her red outfit swirled around her, and she wore a white sash that was far too long. Could she not trip on it. And then she backflipped through the air. Her immense bosom bounced with each movement. It was akin to a mesmerizing dance, her long legs swaying.


    Her curves were comparable to Arraxia, even equal.


    William tried to avoid becoming infatuated and failed as her lips drew near him. He could feel her breath on his face. Then a fan sword of foreign make was put between their lips, so they were almost touching it. Her chest was pressed against him, and he kept his gaze firmly on her face.


    Then there was a flash of fire, and she was gone.


    Then Chun Xi descended from the trees to and in a crouch. The poofing blue sleeves of her shirt flowed as one leg spun an inch over the ground. The movement sent a wave of leaves flowing into the air with the air passing. Her dark hair ties bobbed as she spun away to land near Isriath, driving one of her hips to one side. Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The Goddess of Revelry and most beautiful lady in the world, Maius!" said Maius, landing in a dramatic pose.


    "I''m not doing it, Maius," said Isriath. She and Chun Xi were easily comparable.


    "But we had the whole dynamic set up," said Maius. "It would have been amazing!"


    "I''m sure it would, but this is not a good time," said Chun Xi. "Humans tend to become very touchy when it comes to children. We may not operate on the same moral principles, but we must be courteous in these matters."


    "Fine," said Maius. "You two really need to loosen up."


    They wanted to be asked questions, didn''t they? No doubt they had a story or two to tell about their adventures. And he was curious.


    "What were you doing in that brothel?" asked William. "It does not seem your usual habitat."


    "A favor to a friend, in truth," said Isriath. "I have little love for such base pleasures. And Maius much prefers more public sorts of entertainment."


    "Chun Xi?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Isriath. "She''s interested in gaining the favor of her Empress.


    "The nature of her creation was accidental. However, her people have been enduring decades of humiliation by Bretus. Another creation of Anoa the Bright, however, unlike Harlenor...


    "Well, Maius finds them less entertaining."


    "We are not being humiliated," said Chun Xi. "We are enduring.


    "And Bretus will soon destroy itself at this rate. They do not see the fall coming because they are blind to the ground at their feet. The earth churns beneath them."


    "Yeah," said Maius, spinning through the air to stand with her back to him. "They''re more about rape and brutality and murder and feeling superior. Of course, Harlenor has those things, but they''re sort of character flaw.


    "Bretus is kind of what you may become."


    "I believe you," said William. Should he broach the subject of the children? It would be unwise; they had the advantage here and could find it unpleasant. Isriath had been courteous; he ought to be as well.


    The children could wait a little bit longer at the risk of ruthlessness. Assuming they weren''t dead, of course. Unfortunately, there were probably many dead crises because of this crisis. Would their deaths really change anything at this point?


    That was a thought William did not want to go into. He had to try and save them, whether they were alive or dead.


    "They aren''t dead," said Isriath. "They are quite safe and content at the moment.


    "Observing things, you know.


    "We''ll put the matter aside."


    "I believe I have interfered with your designs," said William. He decided it unwise to mention they had no business with the church in the first place. Maius laughed at this, opening her fans and putting them in front of her face as she did. "Where is Imogen?"


    "She''s gone," said Isriath. "Banished, or so I think. It happens now and then. Though she has a way of slipping out of places.


    "Or, maybe she''s just lost interest. That''s how she does things; she shows up one day and then disappears. I gather she was quite annoyed with you."


    William decided his patience for courtesy was now exhausted. "Where are the children? What have you done with them?"


    Instant, their playful manner fell away, and they leaped back to take stances.


    "In a better place," said Isriath.


    "Their place is with their families," said William. "You have taken them from their villages, homes, and families. You have seized them against their own will.


    "This is an act of wanton evil."


    "Evil?" asked Maius in concern. "We''re not evil."


    "Your actions speak otherwise," said William.


    "This is one of those human things Maius," said Isriath. "They operate on principles that certain actions ought never to be taken. We have similar principles, but we operate in different parameters.


    "Humans and most mortals consider hurting children an abomination. But we are primal spirits of nature. Wolves and bears eat human children, just as humans eat the children of animals.


    "The difference is that we are capable of reason and thus answerable for our actions.


    "Nevertheless, our moral codes are largely incompatible save in matters of courtesy."


    "The children," said William.


    Chun Xi nodded. "Yes, yes. All they have to do is move the cargo as they agreed. Do that, and they will be returned.


    "I had an agreement with that village to transfer some cargo for the Sorcerer''s Guild. Neral Dinis was quite polite as a go-between."


    "Did you know what the cargo was?" asked William.


    "I agreed to arrange transportation. All in exchange for services I was rendered a long time ago," said Isriath. "Whatever Neral Dinis wanted, I must give, of course.


    "One must honor one''s agreements. Once they broke theirs, I had to compel them to redeem themselves."


    "Did he tell you anything about what he was doing?" asked William.


    "Nothing at all," said Isriath. "It was of no concern, I owed him a favor, and I am trying to repay it. I gather that he has been in contact with House Kern."


    "But what did he owe you the favor for?" asked William.


    "Why stole the Goldenwood Harp, of course," said Isriath. "How do you think it came to that vault you found it in? Imogen and I stole it ages ago.


    "I like to store away treasures for adventurers to find now and then. I must say, I think it came to a very deserving hero. Though it might have fit a female more."


    "Yes, why did you hand it over to Alchara?" asked Maius, crossing her arms. "I would have liked it for myself."


    "I would do a great deal for someone I care about and also to a goddess I hold fealty," said William.


    "How romantic," said Isriath as many serpents and doves flew into sight. Pigs also came forward. "So, yes, the children are all around us. All of them have become animals like they were in their past lives. Those pigs were bullies, the doves very flighty, the usual.


    "I think you''d make a very nice serpent?"


    "Would you like to be one?" Maius, up in his face again. "Isriath could change you in an instant. I''d like to wrap you around me." And she spun before him, her sash wrapping around him like a vice. As it did, he found her will entering his, and the world became bleary again, but he fought back.


    "No, thank you," said William. The spell faded.


    "Hmm, a very strong will," said Maius. "Not much for emotion, and that''s necessary for a scene."


    "And what is the emotion of this scene?" asked William. "You are holding these children captive for actions their parents took. Actions that may have saved an entire kingdom." Maius leaped back in disappointment.


    "Oh my," said Isriath. "Burning Kingdoms make for such emotional portraits too. I suppose that wonderful painter of mine will have less to draw."


    "What was his name?" asked Chun Xi.


    "...Kiyora''s Dad, I think?" said Maius, drawing a book out of her cleavage and flipping through some notes. It was very impressive how she flipped to the precise page one-handed. Also, half her breasts were exposed. With how they were bouncing, how had she not...


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    No, he would remain professional.


    "Why did I ask you that question?" asked Chun Xi.


    "Because you didn''t remember," said Maius. This was futile; the kidnapping of these children was as important for these two as the trees around them. But he could hardly start a fight. "You think maybe we should let them go?"


    "I suppose the animals might prefer their old forms," said Isriath. "But we''ll need something in return. There is a grievance that must be addressed."


    "I have a dual allegiance to Elranor, Lord of Knights, and the Dreaming Goddess," said William. "Any transfer would require going through both of them. Elranor, under some circumstances, might cooperate.


    "Kiyora, however, never will.


    "And balancing loyalties between them is tenuous enough. I am almost certain putting myself at your disposal would lead to complications."


    "Ah," said Chun Xi. "Well, that ruins the fun, doesn''t it?"


    "As if this wasn''t confusing enough," said Maius. "How many sides are there in this?"


    "At least it''s not the Escorian Civil War," said Isriath. "This one is at least ending."


    Enough. "In that case, I challenge you to a war of music," said William.


    "What?!" said Isriath.


    "You''re not serious?!" said Chuni Xi. "You can''t beat Isriath in a war of music.


    "She''s the Goddess of Music. She doesn''t have to accept your challenge!"


    "This just got interesting," said Maius, laughing with her fan before her lips.


    Jehair and Felix had said nothing all this time, as though there were mere observers. It seemed to William that he was in a personal space of sorts.


    "Actually, she does," said Chun Xi. "You see.


    "It is stated in the Code of the Musician that you cannot decline to match a mortal''s challenge. Well, except in cases where there are no stakes."


    "There is no such code," said Chun Xi.


    "There is, actually," said Isriath. "What do you have in mind?"


    "If I win, you must release all of those you have held captive and return them to their homes," said William. "And you will have to answer any questions I have."


    "How daring," said Isriath. "And if I win, I''ll turn you into a serpent for Maius."


    "We''ll need a judge, won''t we?" asked Maius.


    "Yes, I say we choose, perhaps..." Isriath halted. "Your slave, Felix, is it? No doubt so loyal a servant will be to your advantage?"


    "I''m afraid he would not be objective," said William. "Felix is being well-paid by House Gabriel and has been loyal to me in impossible situations. My loss would drastically affect his prospects. He would be completely unsuitable for the purpose."


    "Um..." Maius halted.


    "Did you just..." Isriath halted, shifting.


    "You just gave up a guaranteed winning move," said Chun Xi. "If she''d picked him, Felix would have acted in your favor. And she wouldn''t even have a right to complain about it?"


    "Perhaps," said William. But she could have used it as an excuse to argue she didn''t really lose.


    Isriath stared. "You really think you can beat me, don''t you?"


    "Who would you have judged then? Jehair?" asked Chun Xi.


    William thought about how much he trusted Jehair. This was an ideal moment for a backstab.


    "No. Jehair is not entitled to judge a goddess, is she? Do we need someone of equal standing who cannot be threatened and influenced?


    "I believe it should be Isriath herself."


    "What?" said Isriath.


    "Well, why not?" asked William. "You are the Goddess of Music; surely, if you were bested by me, you would know it."


    Isriath laughed and looked happy for the first time since he''d seen her. "Ah, flattery and a proposition. What a wonderful night!


    "Music, fine entertainment, and contest all to me! Let''s start with a change of scenery!" And she spun around, and the world changed so that they stood in a forest that seemed as old as time itself. The trees were as high as the Black Mountain, and the sunlight gleamed down from above in a blaze. And Isriath stood at the top of a hickory stump the size of a tower. She was golden-crowned and clad now in glowing gold and jewels.


    Then raising a hand, William''s harp came from his pack even as she threw it off;


    "I''ll reward your faith with a repair job," said Isriath. "Though you must be more careful."


    And before his eyes, all the gold and strings knitted together perfectly as if new. And taking it, he strummed the strings. From those strings came forth a strong sound. But with a slight imperfection. Yet that imperfection defined the other sounds, creating new and great things from it.


    Poetry in motion.


    And then Isriath and he played their harps; their music took on the form of light, one red and furious. The other was blue and beautiful, and they clashed. Their songs melded and mixed to send forth light all around them. More and more, William played, and more and more, Isriath matched with ease.


    Her hands moved faster and faster, and history began to take form.


    William saw the rising of mighty nations. From humble beginnings, when the first flute was played poorly, came Isriath. And she taught others to sing, while Maius, or gods like them, taught them to make a drink and good cheer to dull their pain. Beer and music were gifts from the gods.


    Yet as time passed, they were put aside in favor of more violence. Warrior traditions took precedence. And William before him saw a beautiful city of art and music. It was founded long ago between the eastern knees of the Black Mountain. High and great were the walls, but they were unmanned by the people within.


    And so it was that Anoa the Bright descended. For they aligned themselves against Harlenor, and in vengeance, it was torched. Isriath was pleased with Anoa for sparing the men of her city before the gates. And memories came to him of learning to play the harp at his side beneath the guidance of spirits he saw.


    For a moment, he was himself again. The music raised to the ringing of bells as flames of a rainbow formed around Isriath''s hands.


    Yet that memory was quenched by the memories of dead friends. That and horrors perpetrated on his people. And also of the coming corruption and destruction of his people. For Anoa perceived in Isriath an alternative to Elranor, who had not yet come into his own. The easy way could not be allowed to ensnare them.


    And so, Anoa destroyed the city, leaving nothing remaining.


    Isriath wept and fled back to Escor, where once she had dwelled in long days. And William wondered if the choice had been correct, even as his music began to falter. Then he remembered that, correct or not, it was part of who and what he was. There was no shame in error so long as it was corrected when perceived.


    And for all William knew, Anoa''s choice might well have been correct.


    Destroying all alternatives might have been necessary to maintain the unity of Harlenor. And if the walls were indeed unmanned, they would have been sacked sooner or later. For people who did not fight for themselves would surely be consumed or corrupt all around them.


    And the first spell of Isriath was turned back.


    But she rose into the sky, as wings like those of a butterfly emerged and channeled the light. Beams descended, and William felt as though he had been skewered by the blades. Tired old men cut down, infants thrown from walls that they might never avenge their Father''s. Anoa perceived every moment of it with a stoic expression as the city burned.


    The bodies were buried, and he moved to fight off an army of gnolls who had been coming to help. Behind, William saw the blood-drenched ruins. The rain was failing to wash away the rubble and broken pottery. William wondered how many people had died here in this city, his harp playing. Yet as he looked closer, he saw the city was small by the standards of these days. What was then considered a great place of light and music would be available in almost any town today.


    Their end had been tragic.


    But would such be the case had Anoa not burned them? Had they survived, would they not have gone the way of Cirithil? Lasting long enough to discredit themselves utterly. Yet, in death, in the tragedy of their ending, they may have given way to greater glories. And William played a song. He was summoning the memory of men fleeing in fear from mounted elves with terrible bows.


    Arrows were loosed, and a man fell dead. What was his name? Had he ever existed, or was he simply a figment conjured up by the reading of history? Perhaps Isriath knew the answer.


    "So, you seem to have some skill. This is more entertaining than I thought," said Isriath, smiling as a predator. "Why don''t we try upping our game a bit? Fine then, let me show some true music!"


    "Feel free to make that happen," said William. "Music is a form of art, and all art reflects the soul of the one who creates it.


    "And you will find that my themes are greater than yours."


    The world went chill.


    "Oh, how very brave," said Isriath, smiling as her hair went loose in the wind. "But very foolish as well. Behold, the music of reality itself is reflected through perfection. As you have learned, tragedy is the source of all inspiration.


    "And you will find that no song may be played that does not have its uttermost source in me."


    Thus William beheld Anoa the Bright himself. He was a warrior of unparalleled power and dignity. Thus he was a King even before the crown was worn. Yet, in battle, he showed joy and bloodlust beyond even Tanith. Flames started around him unbidden as he carved a glorious path through his enemies. Such was his valor and power that it infected all around him.


    And there was Sir Orson and Lady Gwendoven, figures of white and golden light. Together they rose in power, beating back the enemies of humanity. And as they rose in power, Anoa and Gwendoven were wed, and Orson, her greatest servant. Yet Anoa''s madness could not be cured, and the pains of his sins were on him.


    Over time, Gwendoven left him to Orson. And Anoa pursued in a rage and warped on both, and both were killed. Then, with the last things holding him back, Anoa declared a final war on Qor''Dana and there faced the Incarnation of the Land...


    No.


    William set his will against this vision. He knew not whether it was truth or a lie, but he would not bear witness to atrocities he''d been told about a dozen times. It was enough to know that the times had been horrible. And so his song turned to one of defiance, refusal to acknowledge his opponent. For his opponent was not acting in good faith.


    Images were shown to William of how kindhearted and beautiful the elves were. Of a beautiful paradise. Yet he looked at it as though he were Anoa and saw only high-handed people who hated him. He has displayed a dimmed vision of the Two Trees of Old, beautiful and as bright as the sun. Given for all to see.


    Yet Anoa had not cared one whit about trees.


    He cared about what had been happening around him. William saw Isriath''s song responding to that. She was trying to focus on humans as a whole, focusing on huts and workshops and cutting trees. But when William sought to look at individual people, her music floundered. Isriath had not known any ordinary people or even about them. Her view of the workshops was hazy.


    She strove in vain for something.


    And yet the only image she could conjure was that of a young girl Anoa knew well hanging from a tree. Her eyes were dead, and he was shaking, and the image shifted. However, now Isriath could only focus on things with nothing to do with the humans.


    The match of their sounds echoed through the woods as flames began to grow in the eternal wood. Isriath stared at her harp as it shuddered. "What... my music...


    "My music is being overridden?! Consumed by your own notes?! How?! How has your song gained this power!"


    "It hasn''t," said William. "Your music is getting weaker."


    "What?! Impossible!" said Isriath.


    "Art is a form of expression that resonates directly from the soul of the one who creates it," said William. "Within the music, portraits, and writings we created is a reflection of our very cores.


    "Long ago, you cared and involved yourself in the world''s affairs.


    "However, you have become indifferent and heartless. You have thrown aside shame, curiosity, courage, and compassion. All in pursuit of meaningless pleasures. Favors have been substituted for morality.


    "The destruction that happens around you does not matter to you save as a source of inspiration. You do not care about it, and so your song is weak. Both of us have been playing our lives, Isriath. My life of fifteen years is not even half over, and yet you, older than the world itself, are running short."


    "No!" said Isriath, playing new songs of valiant elven armies. They fought off hordes of humans and claimed many lives in the defense. Many escaped the attacks and slew guards in battle, and only guards. Never civilians.


    But William''s theme showed the families of those killed.


    How they became ever more bitter and enraged as friends they knew disappeared. And others took up spears to defend themselves. So that what was once about territory soon became a blood feud between races. And the elves'' luck ran out as the forests were burned for interfering. The animals long kept in check by elves began to hunt the horses and were driven away.


    "I will not concede defeat!" said Isriath. "I have other memories to draw upon, far more distant! I shall return to the old; I shall spark the events again in my memory.


    "I am the Goddess of Music. I need no inspiration, for my hands have played across the ages of the cosmos. I have painted a thousand pieces and played songs in the courts in a thousand realities. No theme may be played that doesn''t ultimately come from me, nor can any create their music in my despite."


    William played against her, letting the song wash toward her. "Then why do I still play?"


    "You play because I allow you to play themes of my devising," said Isriath, eyes glowing. Her bangs flew behind her head to reveal a star on her brow. "Your song is matched against mine only because I have raised you as an opponent."


    "Then the music you fight is your own," said William, struggling to keep going. "You are trying to alter your own nature. You are afraid of experiencing the pain that Anoa the Bright inflicted. The harm that he did to the elves cannot be wholly undone, nor can the other atrocities of the universe.


    "Yet in your attempt to shut it from memory, you are worsening the damage.


    "Why do you fight yourself?"


    "Because she''s afraid," said Maius. "Isriath doesn''t like talking about bad things."


    "I fear nothing!" said Isriath. "I am Isriath, Queen of the Fairies! My music resounds through every realm of the cosmos! No court may shut me out, nor any beast dissuade me! And they do not heed my songs shall learn the dire costs of refusal!"


    "And what costs have been dealt to those who harm the innocent here?" asked William. "Those who spurn your gifts and yet benefit by them?


    "Who curses and mocks your name and yet uses your servants?"


    "It is my choice to punish those whom I will," said Isriath.


    "Yet what keeps you from victory here?" asked William.


    Isriath seemed about to unleash new songs, and yet she halted. For a moment, she seemed to contemplate some move. Then she shook her head and halted. "...Enough, that''s enough.


    "The match shall be concluded later."


    And they returned to the clearing. The animals were gone.


    "Huh, Isriath, warn me next time you do that," said Maius. "So I guess you belong to us, now, then? That''s fine by me; we''ve got this really good idea on how we can use your healing powers-"


    "You didn''t win," said William.


    "The match will be concluded later, Maius," said Isriath.


    "What?" said Maius. "How could we lose?! You controlled the outcome!"


    "The music he played was the music I refused to," said Isriath. "I''ve returned the children and all others I have taken and purified much of this land. I will return to Themious soon enough and make plans for the future. However, I should warn you, William. Your enemy is not a criminal or a single person, but a system."


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "The Sorcerer''s Guild would not be distributing malas in such a way without a purpose," said Isriath. "And in any event, I have played music in Haldren before.


    "How many cities are there within Haldren, William? And who could afford to buy such a large quantity of malas?"


    "Almost none, aside from the capital where King Gavin dwells," said William. "That, and the domain of Lord Telus."


    "How easy is it to travel throughout Haldren?" asked Isriath.


    "Difficult because of the snow and hills," said William. "It makes defending it far easier. Many areas of the coast are under perpetual snowfall."


    "So, how would a criminal organization from a foreign land make a profit?" asked Isriath.


    "...They couldn''t," said William. "Communication and enforcement would be impossible. Because the populations are smaller, everyone would know the distributor. They''d be executed as soon as they tried."


    "Now, the last question," said Isriath. "Who would have the money, pull, and reason to purchase large amounts of malas?"


    William considered it. "It can''t be House Telus; they have everything to gain by helping us. They''ve done incredibly well for us and are completely loyal. There are other enemies in Haldren, but none of them are rich enough. And King Gavin would never...


    "King Gavin."


    "A wise man in times of peace prepares for war," said Isriath.


    "There''s no proof of that," said Chun Xi. "King Gavin could have an entirely legitimate use for it. Perhaps he is attempting to create his own Sorcerer''s Guild and wants to stockpile it. House Gabriel has been harvesting malas in large quantities for the Sorcerer''s Guild. They sell it to Magicora.


    "Now they don''t need any of it.


    "You''d never have a better price for it than now. Likewise, the King of Estal, or House Stormstrike, might be buying. We don''t even have any guarantee that the entire stockpile was going to Haldren. Some of it could have been bound for Calisha, or Estal, or even back to Artarq."


    Isriath nodded. "I shall speak to the mages of the Sorcerer''s Guild and see if I can learn more. I might be able to work something out with them.


    "But I''m afraid that you may have to turn your attention to Carn Gable soon. Or you may find yourself without a place there. Farewell.


    "We''ll see each other again to finish our match."


    "Then I shall be prepared to face your music again, milady," said William.


    Maius halted and looked at him. "That was good music."


    And then she vanished in a flash of fire.


    Suddenly, Kiyora appeared out of nowhere. "Hey, I''m in the middle of helping some herdsmen find their sheep. Now I find out you challenged a Goddess of Music to a rock off.


    "Who one? You or the source of all songs?"


    "That seems a foolish question," said William.


    "That''s a good title," said Isriath, appearing. "I think I''ll use that." Then she was gone.


    "No one, it was a draw," said William. "The match will be decided later." Turning to see Jehair and Felix, he halted.


    "So, you then?" asked Kiyora.


    "...Jehair, where to now?" asked William.


    "We''ll head to the druid groves," said Jehair. "As we ought to have before if everything in the world hadn''t gone wrong."


    "That seems an excellent start," said Felix.


    "How much did you see?" asked William.


    "We were spectators," said Felix.


    "Maius and Isriath, there seem to be many Goddesses from Themious. All making power plays," said William. "And Kata thought the Shark Queen was working through Tanith. Why so sudden an appearance in Antion?"


    "Perhaps Elranor''s power has waned enough that they can enter," said Jehair. "Or perhaps he has yielded territory to them."


    Best to let her think he didn''t know. "It is my guess that Elranor ceded ground. Likely he knew these efforts could be brought into the open early. They emerged at precisely the right moment for the people of Antion to foil the plans of the wicked."


    "They are dangerous loose ends and must be accounted for," said Felix. "They will come back now, and unless mollified or broken, they will only cause trouble. So action must be contemplated."


    "Let''s deal with that problem when the time comes," said William. "I think I''ve been channeling Elranor''s will this whole time. That would explain why I''ve been so quick on the update.


    "So I will consult Lord Elranor before I make any plans in that regard."


    The morning was breaking, and the sun gleamed through the trees. Now William had to negotiate with the elves who Korlac had just antagonized. So here came the hard part.

 Chapter Sixteen: The Gnolls

    The woods seemed a bit cheerier as they walked with birds chirping brightly. The sun also seemed to reach down through the trees a bit more and warm them. There were even a few breezes in the muggy areas so everyone was in better spirits.


    "They''re war cries," said Jehair. "The birds are marking their territory and trying to impress a mate."


    William wondered just how long he had been in that battle, but the others had full memory of it. However, the sexual nature of the goddesses had not come to their minds. Time seemed to have flowed strange while he was in it. Jehair and Felix, and Massacre all seemed a bit dazed as well, and William did not blame them. The land sloped downward slightly, and they began to see old ruins.


    Broken stone places where once buildings had stood tall and proud as spires. William had seen illustrations of them, copied painstakingly by scribes in Carn Gable. Once they had reached to the sunlight above, but now they were humbled. Many were half-covered under the earth. Leaves were falling by the will of Laevian, and there were pools of crystal clear water.


    Such had been the will of Anoa the Bright and the punishment of Elranor.


    What had the wrath of the God of Death truly looked like? It must have been terrible and awe-inspiring to see. Elranor had never spoken harshly, or with anger, in all the time William had seen him. He had always been calm and cold but good, like pure and freshly fallen snow. To imagine him in rage was a terrible idea. Yet it had happened at points in history when his wrath had been stored up too long.


    "Are we near the druid enclave?" asked Willam.


    "Yes, very," said Jehair. "I shall be glad to reach it. Our battle with Maius and Isriath was... captivating. But it is time to go on."


    And go on, they did for a little while, as the land rose up and rocks became more common. But here and there, there were dips with a lot of water in them. Several new ponds had swamped the trees from rainfall William didn''t remember.


    "You''re all morons, you know that," said Imogen as she appeared. "All of you."


    "I don''t see your scythe," noted William, looking to Felix and then Jehair. "Where is it?"


    "Of course, I don''t have my scythe, you idiot," said Imogen. "I don''t use it until days of judgment!


    "Now, what is going on here? Why haven''t you called me before now?"


    "I wasn''t aware I was supposed to be getting into contact," said William. What was going on here exactly?


    "Ugh, fine, whatever," said Imogen. "I should have known Elranor would keep you in the dark.


    "We''ll call it a mulligan. Alright, I''m going to direct you to these gnolls, heal them, talk to them, call them over to my worship."


    "How do I know this is Elranor''s will?" asked William. "And how exactly are you both a proxy Goddess of Healing and a Thievery?


    "What is the connection?"


    "I stole it," said Imogen simply. "Obviously.


    "Zeya didn''t want the position, so I took it. You know, you have been causing me some major problems. Some chosen one you turned out to be.


    "Anyway, I''m here to help you.


    "Your friend Tanith Telus scares the hell out of me, and I''ve decided to try and patch things up. So I''m giving you a quest that will help advance your goals and fix things with your house.


    "Ordinarily, I take on a mortal form and handle this myself. But every so often, organized crime gets really bad. Then I get a lot of power, and I have to put a lot of work in.


    "The point is, Tanith is scary, and I don''t want to mess with her. So I''m giving you a quest."


    "I see," said William.


    William turned his thoughts to Elranor and fell to one knee. Raising his hands, he prayed and focused his energies. As he did, he saw Elranor.


    "Just cooperate," said Elranor. "I need you out there."


    William nodded and stood up. "I''ve been put at your disposal."


    "Finally, now let''s just get this over with," said Imogen, throwing aside strands of pink hair. "I need to get a report from Serna. I swear Nagos is planning something big here."


    "You are familiar with King Nagos?" asked William.


    "Yes, he''s an old companion," said Imogen. "I mean, under alias obvious. I don''t fear Lady Zeya, but Nagos scares me. Past his nice smile is the most dangerous man alive."


    "Of course," said William.


    William did not understand why Nagos was so universally respected. By all accounts, he was the King of a tiny remnant. A mere phantom of the old Naminaen Empire. Perhaps it was because of Chun Xi? She seemed influential.


    Imogen nodded. "Great.


    "You''re about to be ambushed. Talk your way out."


    And she was gone in a flash.


    William was beginning to feel exceptionally ill-treated. He had never volunteered his services to any of these people. Yet they seemed to take it for granted that he would do whatever they said. It was beginning to irritate him, especially since he was Imogen''s nemesis in this.


    And then came the gnolls from a circle, dozens of them. They held halberds in hand, and their hunched, doglike forms stunk. Their eyes were yellow. Though blue or yellow and hostile intent simmered beneath the surface. A few had huge maces. "Perceptive for a human.


    "So, who are you who walks unbarred into our domain?"


    "Forgive us entering unannounced," said William. "I am William Gabriel, and I am here to help you against the plague on behalf of the Goddess Imogen." He halted and considered things. Jehair was likely the common link.


    She had probably worked with them, and they assumed her presence meant he was in hand. So his plan had worked.


    "Plague?" asked the gnoll while some coughed.


    "Yes, there has been a plague spreading throughout the land, and I''ve been trying to heal it," said William. "Several plagues, in fact." Wonderful, now he had to go back to do more healing. Desperately he wanted to go do something else or rush through, but this was his appointed task.


    So he stayed resolute and thought about how good it was to be alive. To breathe and be strong of limb.


    "You came all the way out into the darkness of the marshes to heal us?" asked the gnoll leader.


    "Yes," said William. "Every person afflicted by a plague afflicts those around them. Every person healed may heal those they meet. You are as mortal as I, and so I must help you if I can.


    "You do have people afflicted by the plague?"


    "A few of them, yes," asked the gnoll. "You can heal them?"


    "I can try," said William.


    "Maybe we should listen to em, master. We''ve got a lot of-" said a gnoll.


    "I''m the one giving the orders!" said another gnoll, apparently the leader. "...You, follow me."


    "Of course," said William.


    And so they walked, and William quickly went up to the gnoll who had spoken. "Forgive me if I presume, but I would guess by your terrible visage that you are gnolls. The race of humanoid wolves who struck terror into so many households in ancient days."


    "No talking!" said the leader.


    "As you wish," said William.


    "This is a mistake," said Jehair. "We do not know these creatures will not kill us once we are in their den."


    "Bah," said Massacre, unnerving the satyrs.


    "Massacre is correct," said William. "We need not fear them so long as we are increasing their fighting power."


    "And why are we increasing their fighting power?" asked Jehair hurriedly. "They''re enemies of the druids, of House Gabriel? Helping them could be disastrous." Was she unaware William was on to her? It seemed possible.


    Did she seek redemption?


    She''d have to do something wrong to be redeemed. This was a legal matter. There was some panic in her tone.


    "That remains to be seen," said William, trying to be ambiguous.


    Then they came to a filthy series of shacks that could be generously called a village. Gnoll women were sewing and performing other day-to-day affairs. Filth was all over the ground, and the stench was horrific. Instead of a cesspit, they had a place where many gnolls were groaning. They were lying in the filth of a pit, disease.


    "...This is where you keep your sick and injured?" asked William, horrified.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Yeah, we throw ''em down there to rot," said the gnoll he''d spoken to before. "Most are probably dead by now. You want to go down there, be my guest.


    "Let''s see how the knight fights the plague."


    William nodded and scaled down a crude set of steps made from increasingly smaller logs. Eventually, he came to the gnolls, smelling rotting flesh. "Don''t be afraid.


    "I am here to save you."


    And he began his work. It was miserable and hot, and the air was filled with flies, and plague spirits fought against him. Every bit of flesh he healed seemed like it took a lifetime to work at, and when he finished the first gnoll, he was tired. But as he rose up and clambered out, William did it again.


    And again, harder each time.


    "You..." said a spirit. "You will rot..."


    "Rise and be healed," said William. "Elranor has freed you." Then he saw one standing up and staying to watch him work. "You, check the others; help me find the ones that are still alive. If you find any who are dead, move them to where they were. We''ll see about their burial."


    And it continued, with Jehair soon coming to help. It soon became clear that many gnolls were here, and several were already dead. It all became horrible, but William looked to his new companion. "What''s your name, friend?"


    "I''m Asan," said the gnoll. "I was a warrior for Arraxia before I went to fight in Khasmir. But I was sold into slavery by my own brethren. I escaped, only to be plagued."


    "Tell me, did you fight with any professional armies?" asked William.


    "Quite a few," said Asan, though it was a bit hard to understand his growling. "Calishans at one point."


    "Did you learn their methods of their organization?" asked William.


    Asan nodded.


    William healed another gnoll. "Right.


    "Well, help me get the others.


    "Your Chieftain doesn''t seem to like me."


    "He''ll kill you as soon as you outlive your usefulness," said Asan. "Rigis hates humans, and so do most of them. And elves he hates the most."


    "I''m quite sure he''ll try," said William.


    "You think you can kill him and his men?" asked Jehair, laying her hands on an injured gnoll.


    "It wouldn''t matter if I couldn''t," said William. "These people have to be healed."


    But, ultimately, they finished it and went up into the town. There they were somewhat ungraciously given more people to heal. William did so with Jehair while Massacre watched, licking her cat heads chops."


    "Is it finished?" asked Rigis.


    "Not yet, I''m afraid," said William. "There are many bodies down there from those who died before I arrived. They must be piled and burned, or they could infect you all again. It is a shame they were put down there; many others may have lived."


    "I don''t need the opinion of a simpering human!" said Rigis. "You lot, you''ve been taking it easy down there and know the place; get the corpses out of there!"


    "While they are working, Chieftain, there are some other matters," said William. He remembered his lessons under Raynald in creating a proper camp. "I''m afraid that this settlement has become unsanitary.


    "I can find no sign of a cesspit.


    "Where is one?"


    "Why the hell should I care about that?" asked Rigis.


    "The lack of cleanliness in this area is a source of flies and plague," said William. "The filth that has filled your streets must be cleansed and quickly, or any one of you could suffer from it. It could destroy your entire army in a few weeks."


    "It''s true; I''ve seen it happen on campaign in Khasmir," said Asan.


    "You''ve been on a campaign to Khasmir?" asked Jehair.


    "Yes," said Asan. "The Alpha drew me there to battle demons with my comrades. Our pikes claimed many lives in the name of Fortenex. But he was not our god."


    "Fine then, you lot, go clean it up," said Rigis to some of the newly healed people.


    This was an unpopular statement, to say the least.


    "You want us to-," began one.


    Rigis struck him dead with a blow from his pike and the others fled to perform their duties. "That''s how I deal with those who defy me! Go! Clean it up!"


    "Tell me, do any of you have longstanding injuries or scars?" asked William. "And are there any who have been seriously injured in this place?"


    And there were many, and he tended to each one as best he could. The labor was long and hard, and he watched as the gnolls tore down their nasty dwellings. It happened with little difficulty.


    Flames were put to them, and new ones dug in the sand.


    William had the feeling they had done this before. But the gnolls were starting to gather with Rigis near Massacre.


    "Bah," said Massacre threateningly.


    "I should avoid standing in front of her dragon head. Her breath can reduce flesh to char in seconds," said William as he worked. "Asan, you are familiar with the standard procedure for camp making?"


    "The Calishans drilled it into us every time we stopped," said Asan. "Dig a cesspit, set up a fence, that sort of thing."


    "I thought you served Fortenex," said William in surprise.


    "I changed sides to the Calishans when the village I defended was overrun," said Asan. "We killed many raishans before they came, but we had few priests.


    "Many were cut down as they tried to dispel the curses on the bodies, or worse."


    "I remember Khasmir," said William. "I was tasked with breaking those spells. That was nasty; I remember Tanith cut down hundreds of them. And Raynald even more than that, while I was stuck harping."


    "Bad luck," laughed Asan.


    "So tell me of this Alpha," said William.


    "Once, ages ago, the predators of the world were dumb and witless," said Asan. "For the elves did not want wolves and lions and others to have power. Only their horses and deer were allowed because they submitted to them.


    "We could not reason, for the Alpha was imprisoned in the domain of Feanor, now called Castle Blackfear. Now it took the form of a human girl, yet she broke free of her constraints and went out into the wilderness.


    "There, the Alpha gave forth its own flesh and blood to the wolves beneath the sight of Tamar. And as it died, it returned to the domain of Feanor and ran forth alone again. So it went, over and over. Each time, it submitted its flesh to be devoured beneath the sight of Tamar. And over many ages, we gained the power of speech.


    "There were five wolves which the Alpha chose to receive its gifts. There was Yamas, the cunning, who went and became a great friend of Baltoth. His daughter bred with Baltoth and created Telix, and inherited great intellect. They are always in one form, wolf or hybrid. Then there was Malice, the beautiful blonde wolf who created the werewolves. She has reincarnated in the form of Larxe, who resides in Castle Blackfear. She inherited the bloodlust of the world. They change shape between wolf and human.


    "Then there was also..." He sighed. "Snooky."


    "I''m sorry, what?" said William.


    "He was named that by the elves," said Asan. "He and his kind are quite dangerous, but they serve the elves of Qor''dana. They are always in the form of wolves and dedicate themselves to the service of Alchara. It was by their hand that Qor''Dana was never taken when the elves were at their weakest.


    "Last of all, there was Asan, who I am named for. He took on a form that was a mix between beast and man. We have no place, though Anoa saw to it we were spared and taught us to forge and fight. We learned well the ways of survival from him, but he always told us we could not count on him."


    "You know a great deal," noted William.


    "We tell stories," said Asan. "Or at least we did until Faras ordered we stop. We owe him fealty and rely on him for shelter, but we speak them outside the wood."


    "Interesting," said William, wondering if he would meet Faras was as he drew out his notes. "Would you mind if I wrote all this down? I''d love to tell the story."


    "No," said Asan. "Why the interest?"


    "Someday, I hope to compile a detailed history of Anoa the Bright," said William, writing quickly. "To do that, I must hear all sides of the tale, to make as complete a guess as I can. One moment." And he finished. "Well then, Chieftain Rigis, I believe it would be best for a cesspit to be built in this village. I ask that you put Asan in charge of several men to do so. All waste should be thrown in there henceforth."


    "Fine then, do it immediately. And you two, get on the sides of that chimera," said Rigis.


    "But-" began a gnoll.


    "Now!" said Rigis.


    "Jehair, would the druids object to the building of a palisade?" asked William.


    "Of course," said Jehair. "It would require the felling of many trees."


    "I see," said William, before looking to Asan. "What sort of alternative defenses would you be able to raise without trouble? To keep out wild animals and the like?"


    "We could raise a hill of sand," said Asan.


    "Who are you talking to!" said Rigis.


    "I am simply trying to help your people turn this place into a greater stronghold," said William. "If you do not want a wall built, I will no longer pursue the matter."


    "I''ve heard enough of this! Kill them! Kill them now!" said Rigis.


    Massacre roared, and the gnolls scattered. Asan''s supporters stood by watching, now armed.


    "Let he who is most bloodthirsty come against us first," said Jehair. No one moved. "Hmm, it seems there is little enthusiasm for an attack now, isn''t there? Perhaps we could arrange for combat by champion?


    "With your permission, of course, William."


    "As you wish," said William. She was asserting control here.


    Then she and Rigis went at it. Pike and scythe clashed again and again as they circled. A smooth dance-like striking countered Rigis'' jabbing motions by Jehair. William watched with interest. Rigis'' blows were fast and lethal, and he attacked with brutal fury. One Jehair matched with careful footwork.


    Back and forth they went, with Rigis'' stabs being outmaneuvered. When it became clear Jehair would not fall quickly, he slowed his assault. Jehair launched her own attack, striking with flurries. She seemed to move to and fro, and for a moment, her hair seemed like rose petals as she shot past Rigis, then again.


    Yet Rigis predicted her attacks and defended. A slight wound was on the one hand, and Jehair seemed frustrated, though she hid it well. In the light, her hair seemed almost golden.


    "Rigis is quite good, isn''t he?" asked William. He thought Jehair very beautiful as she fought, for she seemed almost three people. The brown-haired druid, and the golden-haired one, younger somehow, and also the one with hair of pink.


    She spun the scythe tirelessly as Rigis met each blow. Marks appeared on his pike. But he stabbed and cut one of the braids on Jehair''s hair, causing it to flow around her in the light. Leaping back, she smiled in an almost girlish fashion as though many years had fallen from her. Was this a spirit?


    Or was it the elvish lifecycle in action? The old Jehair falling away, and the new one coming about.


    "He has to be," said Asan, crossing his arms. "One always has to be able to fight for dominance, or you lose it."


    "Harlenorians have a similar approach," said William. "Though I confess, yours has greater purity."


    "We''re proud of that," said Asan. "You Harlenorians ought to go back to the old ways."


    "Well, as much as we would like to, it isn''t possible," said William.


    "Do you serve Imogen," asked Asan.


    "For the present, I am here on behalf," said William. "But, in truth, I wonder if she did not have some part to play in the chaos I have come to this place for."


    "Yes, we did notice the suicide pact of the Lords of Antion," said Asan.


    "Indeed, I hope it does not stick," said William. "A few messages in the wrong place and the entire nation falls to bits, and rightly so.


    "Amazing, isn''t it? The power of ink on a page?"


    Jehair slid backward, defending rapid strikes from Rigis. Her hair flew around her as she caught his halberd. Now they were locked together, and her strength was failing her. She looked a bit worried.


    "Is this woman your lover?" asked Asan.


    "No," said William. "She''s a guide and much stronger than me. I''d hate to fight her in some dark place. But she''s well-connected and knows these lands.


    "I rather think I''ve taken her off her right road.


    "I think she was hoping to take the road straight to Gel Carn.


    "She had some notion of the mess that was unfolding and wanted to get away from it. One can hardly blame her; Jehair is connected to everyone. Everyone, and yet she''s not associated with any faction.


    "If what I''ve heard is true, she was fighting and leading back when House Gabriel were minor nobility."


    Jehair suddenly turned the halberd and threw it from Rigis'' hands. Then her scythe lashed out, and he flinched. She stepped back, and a moment later, Rigis head fell from his shoulders. The golden-haired one faded, and Jehair looked suddenly old. Cleaning her scythe, she bowed the body of the fallen.


    "Jehair is victorious!" said Asan. "The elf has won!


    "I now rule this pack, and any who oppose me shall suffer for it!"


    "You are a puppet of the elves-" began one.


    And that was how Asan started knocking off heads. There was a full fight, and several were killed before the end, and at last, he had established dominance. "If any gnoll dares cross me, let him face me in single combat like Rigis! Come forward any who would challenge me!"


    But no one did by now, so much the better.


    "Well, it appears that matter is concluded. However, I should hazard that you have taken after all the aspects of the Alpha," said William. "Now then, I have no designs on ruling or conquering you. However, with all your permission, I would like to finish operations here."


    "You may make suggestions," said Asan. "We need to rebuild the settlement from the ground up. Tear down the structures and dig new holes. We''ll make the cesspit and do as he said; I''ve been saying for years we needed to get organized! And I had to call in humans to get rid of Rigis!"


    William let this pass.


    And so the labors began, and they did not end there. Asan soon led them to several other villages, and there William worked while he conquered. It wasn''t long before the gnolls were all busy cleansing their old haunts.


    But in one village, William found many cages of humans and other races enslaved. All in terrible conditions. They were filthy and desperate, had not been eating, and looked to have been made sick.


    "Who are these people you''ve been keeping caged?" asked Jehair, taking charge. William stood to one side, looking at their injuries and desperate eyes. It made him sick to the stomach, but he refused to throw up.


    "They are prisoners. We''re storing them on behalf of someone to sell," said a gnoll.


    "Sell to who?" asked Jehair.


    "Someone named Cirithil," said Asus. "We go out into the lands of Blackfear and seize people, take ''em back here. Then he sells them to the Plantations out in Sorn. We''ve been doing it for months.


    "His agent comes down here every few days after ministering. He says he is saving their souls and does a ritual. Actually, his armor was like his."


    "What was his name?" asked William.


    "Lamech," said Asus. "He enjoys his work."


    "Lamech is doing work as a minister?" asked William. Lilas and Cirithil were bad enough, but Lamech was as well. He wore black skull armor?! What was he doing in the church?!


    "He''s the Bishop of Blackfear," said Asus. "I heard he was the lowest bidder for the position. But all the people who bid higher fell off tall towers, which all had excellent railings, which they had to bend out of shape to get over.


    "Anyway, after all of them died, Lamech got a position as a Bishop of Blackfear. Now that''s some smart business."


    Wiliam put his face in his hands. "Who is running this country?"


    "Is this done with the knowledge of the local Lord?" asked Jehair, putting a hand on his shoulder sympathetically. Evidently, she had heard of this sort of thing before.


    Even the gnolls knew about it.


    "Don''t know, don''t care," said the gnoll. "Atravain controls more land than she can administer. There some paperwork over there with the authorization." He pointed to a shack where a case of simple leather was inside.


    "Take it or not, last we heard Cirithil is on his way out. What do we care?"


    William went over to it and opened the case with Jehair behind him. Drawing it out, read it on a desk in a tent before shuddering in horror. They were many requests and authorization for the shipment of slaves. Names and dates, and accounts of their race, age, and gender. And on it was a similar marking. All in a very beautiful hand.


    "...This bears the sigil of the High Priest," said William. "And the ink is smudged, as though he stamped it without looking at it.


    "In the meantime, these people have been sent to you as a trap."


    "What do you mean?" asked Asan. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Their purpose here is to give your enemies a justification to invade you," said Jehair. "Let me heal these, see them fed and send them on your way. To keep them here invites the wrath of Harlenor.


    "I have already seen such tactics used before.


    "And also tell House Gabriel what is happening."


    "Why should we?" asked Asan.


    "Tavish has fallen from power, or very nearly," said Jehair. "Even if you find a buyer for this, the High Priest is gone. So you might get stiffed on your payment, and whoever did it might use them as an excuse to kill you."


    "Let them come; we''d prefer a straight fight to test the walls," said Asan to laughter.


    "I''d rather fight it out with you when you had rather a larger army," said William, trying to keep his composure.


    "Really?" asked Asan. He must have succeeded.


    "We like a challenge," said William.


    "And what do you suggest?" asked Asan.


    "Send word to my Uncle Arthur Gabriel in Brisgald and offer to ransom these to him," said William. "Say that they were intruders in your domain. I''ll write a letter to him explaining the true nature of things, and you can get a profit for their release. And send all of these documents to him undamaged.


    "House Gabriel doesn''t believe in slavery or reckless invasions. They will respect your claims. It could be a powerful political tool if you also send them this documentation."


    Asan nodded. "Very well.


    "We don''t have any use for the filthy things. We''ll play things your way, but this had better be worth it."


    "Of course," said William. "And don''t talk to anyone about this. We don''t know who Cirithil has corrupted. Anyone you talk to could be an agent." And he put the papers back in the case. "Burn this place.


    "And tell as much to anyone who comes looking. I''ll take these to King Faras."


    Asus nodded.


    William did as done before, and the people were given a meal and some rations and guided out toward the villages. From there, William wondered how many of these slaves had already been sold. What fate would befall them? That of the Furbearers?


    "Elranor," said William. "Guide these people to freedom and good fortune.


    "I cannot go with them. Massacre, protect them to the edge of the wood, then come right back." Then he halted and realized how much he needed her. "...You know, Massacre. I don''t think you get nearly enough credit. So many problems are easily solved when a chimera is at your back."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    Imogen did not show up, however, no matter how many villages visited. But, perhaps he had earned that.

 Chapter Seventeen: Blood and Water

    House Kern''s fortress was disappointing as always.


    Salvaging the Babarassian ruins was a task left to many of Sokar''s men and they had to pick through the wreckage of the settlements. Last Tanith had heard, they''d been finding a lot of valuables, though some of it had been destroyed. There had been trade goods focused in a basement below the surface that had mostly survived, now taken as plunder. True to William''s prophecy, not one Babarassian remained alive among it, though some had avoided the fire to die of smoke in the basement. Tanith wondered if Elranor had inspired it, or if William or Felix had just done some of that analysis they had been taught by Vanion. Tanith didn''t have the head for that kind of thing. Either way, the dragon had burned them all out, and it had taken some time to find anything. But many weapons and armor were found usable, and the Furbearers were much better armed.


    Huzzah for weapons.


    So it was that Sokar took them by paths through the hills and up craggy slopes, a decision which was more interesting. But interesting also meant it was a lot harder. The snow only became thicker, and Tanith thought they should have been slowed. Instead, however, they moved all the faster. The very land conspired to give them safe passage. So that now they came within sight of House Kern.


    And it was disappointing.


    It was a much older variety of fortress, and the walls were not that high. Nor were the towers particularly impressive. It stood between two large cliffs. It was the only entry point to the realm of King Gavin from this side of the mountains. Close examination showed that there had been recent attacks on it.


    Snow was beginning to clear, but it looked to have been very heavy.


    Through a telescope Sokar had stolen from the wreckage, Tanith saw warriors training. Not all of them were Harlenorians, but none were Babarassian. Dark-skinned but no Furbearer, they had a different hairstyle. The buildings they were drilling in front of were of a different make, the sort Tanith used to burn. The militia were well-trained, and they seemed to be at least a few hundred in number.


    There were also a few hundred men of Harlenorian drilling a little ways away. Both were working very hard at it. They were not as well-armed as House Gabriel''s men but better than anyone in Antion''s militias. Tanith got the impression they did not like eachother, but Lord Kern was walking this way and that.


    He was inspecting the troops with keen eyes, and he had short white cropped hair. His garb was white as snow, and he seemed almost like a vision Elranor Tanith had once seen.


    Like Elranor, but not like him, he was not above the world but detached from it, and his understanding was lesser. Then again, that was perhaps the understatement of the century. What truly interested Tanith was Edward Kern, clad in armor except on his right side. That wore the same sleeve he always held, and the hand had a glove on it. At his side was a sword, and he seemed to be analyzing everything.


    "I could just shoot him," said Sokar, now clad in chainmail with a large axe. "I''ve got a sling and everything." He spun the length of leather.


    "No need," said Tanith. "It''s against the laws to harm nobility. These people down here are Drens.


    "Felix taught me the difference between them. Sort of a cultural divide, Medi is smarter and more civilized. Drens are used for drudgework and less intelligent, I think.


    "I''d never heard they were treacherous in nature.


    "What are they doing out here? They can''t be real Calishans; Gavin would never be stupid enough to let them in."


    "Some of my people say that they are fleeing from Neseriah," said Kata. "Worshippers of a god called Valranor, I think. I guess Baltoth threw him off his throne."


    "No," said Tanith. "Valranor is dead and has been dead for ages.


    "They worship the idea that Baltoth and Valranor have a kind of dual nature. And Baltoth was substituted for Valranor because of the sins of the faithful. I learned a thing or two from the villages I burned.


    "They have similar beliefs in Fortenex. So it''s a good way to transition from one god to another."


    "Why did you burn so many villages?" asked Kata.


    "They were raids," said Tanith. "You try to destroy as much of the enemy forces as possible.


    "Besides, everybody in those towns knew how to fight. And they did exactly the same thing to the satyrs who lived in the domain of Neseriah once. Killed every last one of them because they caused a lot of trouble. No other realms in Baltoth''s domain did that kind of genocide, and Argath didn''t hit those.


    "Come to think of it; I didn''t fight any of these guys. Worshippers of Valranor, all of them invoked Baltoth and Calisha. Probably some sort of divine purge or something."


    "Is that a thing?" asked Sokar.


    "Well, I guess there is such a thing as a society so evil you can''t redeem, but I wouldn''t know," said Tanith. "I barely even remember anything from those days.


    "It was a nightmare. Argath screaming orders. Always threatening the knock on the heads of anyone who showed mercy. Everyone either talking about how they were pure evil or boasting about their kills."


    "What did you do?" asked Kata.


    "I did my job," said Tanith. "I was first in every charge and last in every retreat, just like Argath. I showed no mercy to anyone I wasn''t ordered to show mercy to. Eventually, I took a priestess of Baltoth hostage and enslaved her.


    "That was the whole point of the operation. Desecrating Baltoth''s people and spreading fear and terror among them. I mean, nobody knew what they were getting into. But after Argath burned our ships, we either had to take more ships or die.


    "Anyone we left alive would lead our enemies to us. We had to do it, and there wasn''t any other kind of entertainment. So we learned to enjoy blood, and I enjoyed it most of all."


    "...You were a slave," realized Kata. "Just like us.


    "Just like them.


    "You lost your freedom to Argath Marn. That''s why you cut down that tree."


    "What tree?" asked Sokar.


    "Back when Tanith was fighting in Gel Carn," said Kata. "Gail Arengeth tried to help her. He grew a tree and explained that how it was cared for would affect his life and all her life.


    "Now, she''d been working with Argath Marn and had been quarreling. He had trained her into what she was. And now he was trying to get her to abandon who she was. Because he had seen too much of himself in her."


    They were speaking of her as though she wasn''t there. As a figure of quasi-religious significance, a kind of story. Tanith decided she didn''t care and remained silent.


    Sokar halted. "Right, I remember when you told that story, Tanith.


    "That was what all this was about. If you''d left the tree standing, you might have been happier. But it would nullify who you were as a person; you''d just be some stray animal Gail Arengeth tamed.


    "Never again to be important.


    "Argath Marn refused to give you the respect you wanted. And the table scraps thrown to you out of pity enraged you. So you choose to hurt everyone rather than accept false freedom."


    "That''s your imagination," said Tanith. "No, it was just the lack of respect.


    "House Gabriel are my allies, and William is my friend. Being ''tamed'' by Arengeth would imply Arengeth had authority over them and me."


    "That can''t be it," said Sokar. "That was an emotional decision Tanith. You aren''t that calculating."


    "Because I won''t be used as a tool," said Tanith. "Ever.


    "Anyone who attempts to use me as a tool is going to lose my loyalty."


    "I can respect that," said Sokar.


    "Where did these worshippers of Valranor come from?" asked Taith.


    "A lot of reserves were mobilized for the fight in Artarq. But the war ended early with Banir''s humiliation," said Sokar. "So they got canceled. These ones decided to flee here to Haldren and take up service with Lord Kern.


    "Vanion''s formed malas business had a side business smuggling troops out for a bit. At least until Felix crucified the crews, who did so by the river."


    "Is that legal?" asked Tanith.


    "He handed them over to the Calishans to be crucified," said Kata. "We figured it out while you were scouting yesterday. I never thought he''d do something like that."


    "He had to," said Tanith. "When you negotiate, your power is based on trust.


    "Lord Kern down there, in theory, could make a favorable peace with you right now. But nobody would trust him. So he''s going to have to deal with the fact that you don''t trust him for his entire life. He made a few minor short-term gains and ripped his credibility to shreds.


    "Now, these Drens, they''ll need to be killed. All of them, before their families are brought over."


    "Isn''t that a bit much?" said Kata, looking at her in shock. She looked cute when she was shocked.


    "Who do you think was going to be given your lands?" asked Tanith. "If Kern had depopulated you, he could send these in. Start new settlements loyal to him, and he influences a much larger region.


    "Their very existence gives Kern a means to enslave the common people. Once he has an organization of slave soldiers reliant on him, he can play them against his own people. The man is replacing his own race for money."


    "Are you sure it''s just money?" asked Kata, doubtfully.


    "Or a throne or power or something," said Tanith. "Whoever they are, they''ve cleared breached the laws of Harlenor as laid out by Anoa. In spirit, if not in law.


    "You look after your own kind."


    "Are there actually laws?" asked Sokar.


    "More general principle and code than laws," said Tanith. "It was all formalized long after Anoa ascended into heaven. He generally left most places to run their own affairs so long as they did their job.


    "We can''t miss this opportunity."


    "Can you bring your forces in?" asked Kata.


    "Maybe," said Tanith. "But that makes things complicated.


    "If we can get enough of a force and route these idiots without using support from Father. That gives you bargaining power. If you call us in, you''re in our debt."


    "I think we''d better go meet Father," said Kata. "They say that he''s gathering strength in our main stronghold of Culdash. Anoa laid siege to it once for three days, and we survived."


    "You lasted three days?" asked Tanith. If it were anyone other than Anoa it''d be pathetic.


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    "It was toward the end of the war," said Sokar. "I think he was tired of fighting. Neral Dinis was dead by that point and didn''t come back for a long time.


    "Those two had a major personal hatred."


    "I hadn''t heard much about it," said Tanith. "Then again, nobody likes to talk about the Withering days of Haldren."


    "Well, I''m going to do some more research," said Sokar. "This is our history, and we''re forgetting it."


    "Well, you can forget it some other time," said Tanith. "I''m making an appearance."


    And she stood up on the ledge. Edward and Kern looked up in shock, and Kata and Sokar stood up as well. Tanith waved and smiled, and the son looked at his Father. Kern motioned, and the men ceased drilling to stand motionless.


    What was this, a trust exercise?


    "Well," said Tanith. "I''d say that''s enough of an appearance.


    "We''ll head right back to this Culdush place," said Tanith. "Sokar, you command."


    "Do as she says," said Sokar to the men as they walked down. "But leave watchers here to ensure no attack is made."


    Off they went.


    Several ambushes were set up in the snow in case they were followed. But the real battleground was on a bridge. The ice of the river below was melting and would break if anyone tried to cross it. But beyond, they found many high snowbanks that could be hidden within. Here, Sokar set most of his troops on hills and kept them hidden so Tanith could not see them. They wielded spears and slings, and many stones and more were on the hills.


    "Explain something to me," said Tanith. "How is it that you haven''t been invaded before? You haven''t been seriously attacked in generations."


    "We had certain promises made to us by Elranor," said Sokar. "Though I only recently read up on them in Ascorn. So long as we are kind to outsiders and good in nature, our security is guaranteed.


    "It seems that promise has been broken."


    "Gods do not break promises Sokar," said Kata. "Or they are not gods."


    "Well then, how do you explain this?" asked Sokar. "I won''t deny that he kept it a long time. But clearly, our security was not guaranteed here."


    "There is a promise you can''t keep," noted Kata. "Yes, we were kind to Tavish and hospitable. But I do not think he had any real will left in the matter.


    "An army was already being raised, and we were defenseless.


    "We''ve forgotten our old traditions; Tanith knows more about some of them than we do. You learned about our old culture from a book you found on a slavers desk.


    "The people that promise was made to are lost.


    "Our soul is lost to our own complacency."


    It was too perfect, reflected Tanith as they continued.


    It was as though she had been placed into a realm where all the things she believed and knew were proven correct. The foolish but worthy savages were met. They grew stronger under her tutelage and killed her political enemies. House Gabriel grew stronger, and everything worked out.


    And William became in time a mighty King, and Tanith would be a warrior Queen by his side. Their ill-spent youth was long forgotten as they passed beyond the veil of reality. And into myth and legend. Pain would be there, but glory, immortality, and unending battles.


    But it was all nonsense.


    Tanith was but a vessel by which they perceived the working of their Goddess, the Shark Queen. She stood now in a refounding of old traditions in a culture she never cared about. Religious ecstasy might come for others and great joy. Yet Tanith herself was left outside. A convenient means of getting from one place to another.


    The Shark Queen had worked through her, but she was not the Shark Queen, nor even of the Shark Queen. The storm that had been summoned was for Kata and Sokar''s benefit, not hers. Tanith had no stake in this venture, no great reason not to depart at once and never return.


    Was the purpose of this then redemption for her?


    Unlikely.


    If there was some kind of redemption for her in this, she''d have seen some sign by now. Some appearance or provided eucatastrophe that demonstrated her sins were forgiven. But, perhaps she did not warrant it.


    No, no, no.


    Elranor appeared to people all the time. And Tanith was a very accomplished individual who had done many great deeds. Everything she had done had been in the name of Elranor, and yet she''d never felt him near. Not once had she felt a stern sense that what she was doing was wrong. Perhaps she hadn''t really believed.


    Her gaze turned to the medallion given to her by Kusher.


    Had taking this damned her in some way? Ridiculous, any number of other warriors had taken them. Never had she prayed to Kreshlak or any other deity besides Elranor.


    What was the purpose of calling Tanith up here?


    Why had she been chosen for this task and not William or some other?


    Tanith was an accomplished warrior, beautiful and strong, but Suran was nearly as good. He could easily have served here. Tavish, too, if Elranor had pulled the right strings. So why was Tanith the ideal choice? Obviously, her faith was worth nothing to him, so perhaps some unique quality?


    Bloodthirsty, vicious, aggressive, and prone to every sin Tavish had committed.


    Tanith didn''t want to save the Furbearers; in fact, she was sick of it. There was no good reason her personality suited this task. And even if it was changing her, it did not matter since William was doing that already. Others like her could serve.


    So, what made Tanith special here?


    She was related to Edmund Telus, who had hated Lord Kern for years and shared a border with the Furbearers. Thus making her an ideal tool.


    There was real politics in heaven as well as on the good earth.


    Disgusting.


    Tanith would have liked to think that someone would notice she was troubled. But nobody paid her any more attention. Kata and Sokar were busy leading, and she followed behind, a secondary player in her own story.


    Then again, it wasn''t her story.


    So she moved on ahead and decided to get the miserable thing over with, so she could go back to killing Calishans. "I can''t believe the Babarassians just got wiped out by a dragon.


    "I suppose the Shark Queen might like the novelty."


    Nobody answered.


    Coming to a halt, Tanith saw the castle of Culdush. It was... immensely disappointing. They''d taken the fastest route to the border, just in case, and had missed it. On the other hand, they had not missed much, little more than six foot stone wall on a hill. It was well-manned and well-maintained, and an unimpressive-looking man was down there.


    He had long brown hair and was handing out blankets while men with spears stood by. But Kata and Sokar ran to him as though reuniting with their god.


    "Father!" said Kata, throwing down her spear and embracing him.


    And Sokar too.


    "Sokar, Kata," said Osris. "When I heard you were back, I hardly dared to hope. We managed to hold Caldush, obviously. And we''ve been trying to rebuild things as best we can, and I''ve stepped up training.


    "Our men are on watch.


    "With the destruction of the Babarassians by a... dragon, we at least one have one front war."


    "So what''s the plan?" asked Sokar eagerly.


    "At present," said Osris. "Survival.


    "I''ve already sent messengers to Edmund Telus informing him of the situation. But we may have to abandon the lowlands entirely if things go badly. Kern has a substantial force, and I believe he is out for blood now.


    "Or, what has taken Kern''s place."


    "What do you mean?" asked Kata.


    "Kern has always had two sides to him," said Osris. "Back when we adventured together, he was always kind and pleasant. But as time went on, I began to see another face. It continued to grow, even after our adventures ended.


    "I''m afraid whatever it was that has been eating him has taken him over entirely. At least, unless it involves his family. We may be fighting for years."


    Sokar nodded.


    Tanith had to admit, she was impressed. She''d taken him for weak, but it was obvious he knew what he was doing. The guards were ready and watching, and if an attack was made, there would be a real fight.


    And they would lose.


    "We can''t wait," said Sokar. "I''m sorry, Dad, I know Kern was your friend. But no matter what truce we make, the Harlenorians will come after us sooner or later.


    "They respect only strength. We''ve got to fight a war and win it.


    "Now, right now, Edmund and Kern are suspicious. So if we can beat Kern after he attacks us and do some real damage...


    "It''ll get us respect.


    "And once we have the respect, we can make a real truce."


    "Well, we have a hostage," said Osris. "Unfortunately, it''ll only buy us time.


    "Who is your friend?"


    And that was how the whole story was retold again, and Tanith enjoyed listening to it even less than last time. The only good bits were when people were killing eachother, and there were precious few of those.


    Osris listened. "Well then, it appears we''ve had a very happy misunderstanding thus far.


    "Your brother was selling us for slaves."


    Tanith went chill. Anborn was employed here? Had she been fighting her own house? "....Is he dead?"


    "No," said Osris. "Nor are any of the men that accompanied him. They were returned to Edmund Telus unharmed.


    "But he remains with us. He''d leave for long periods of time and then go into the slave pits and sing. It was absolutely infuriating and made everything worse."


    "Which brother?" asked Tanith, already knowing the answer.


    "Tanith..." said Kata.


    "Which brother?" said Tanith.


    Osris went still. "Anborn Telus.


    "He has been the representative of your House for some time. Though he spent very little time here."


    "Where is Anborn?" asked Tanith.


    "We''re not giving him up," said Sokar.


    "I''m not asking you to give him up," said Tanith, now feeling real rage. "I''m asking you to put me in the same room as him.


    "Where is he?"


    "I will allow you to go to him," said Osris. "But only if you give your swords to Kata as trust."


    Tanith did so, and Kata took them.


    "You''ve both grown up," said Osris.


    "We had to," said Kata, smiling. "Tanith, I''m sure your brother is alright."


    "I''m worried he''ll be dead, and Father will have to avenge him. Unfortunately, that means finding him alive," said Tanith.


    "You wish your brother dead?" asked Osris.


    "Why wouldn''t I?" asked Tanith. "When I was growing up, he was always lazing around. He never put any work into studies, sword fighting, or anything else. He was too much of a coward to go to war, and he didn''t want to make his own efforts. Every responsibility he is offered, he runs from.


    "He gambles and drinks and wastes his time reading. And he loafs around while everyone else has to work overtime to compensate for his failings.


    "...Who got him this job? Do you know?"


    "I gather he was given the position by Lord Kern on urging from Lord Rius," said Osris. "Or so he tells me. I believe the go-between was a merchant called Lilas."


    "That treacherous bastard!" said Kata. "You were right about him, Tanith! You were right all along!"


    "Not now, Kata," said Tanith.


    She was led to an enclosure within the fortress, and a door was opened. Inside, Tanith saw her brother, a man older than her by several years. He had slicked-back blonde hair, big innocent eyes, and did not at all look like a bad sort. On the contrary, when he turned, he smiled like some child waiting for a meal. "Tanith?


    "You''re here; I''m really glad to see you. Did you know that this fortress was-"


    "It''s not cute anymore," said Tanith. "Anborn, what is going on here? Why are you taking jobs from our political enemies?"


    Anborn shifted, putting his hands together as if in prayer. "Please don''t hit me, sis.


    "I''ve just been doing some business ventures. Lord Kern gave me some business opportunities. Um, actually, I seem to have lost a lot of my merchant holdings.


    "Well, maybe we can work to get them back together."


    Anborn had no idea what he was doing. That was no excuse. "Does Father know about what you were doing here? Did you get his permission?"


    "Well, I mean, he kept pushing me to go on campaign," said Anborn. "But I mean, all those warriors and such are really mean. And they kept leaving me behind.


    "So I thought I''d go and try to make my fortune here. And I mean, Tavish, he offered me a major loan to get started out here and..."


    "For how much?" asked Tanith.


    "I uh..." asked Anborn.


    "How much did you lose?!" said Tanith, starting to lose control.


    "Sis, I uh..." Anborn halted. "It was going really well. I mean, I got connected to this guy named Reg Hawkthorne who had plans to take control of Ascorn.


    "Tavish asked me to take charge of the operation. And yes, he''s technically a criminal, but deep down, he''s really a nice guy. And he is actually protecting people from that mean jerk Atravaine and..." Tanith struggled to keep her composure. "It''s just money."


    "Just money?!" said Tanith. "Do you know what happens when a noble gets put into debt?!


    "Did you command the operations? Who were your subordinates? Why didn''t your guards do something about this?"


    "I uh, there were some mercenary officers Tavish supplied. Originally I was just harping for them, but Lord Kern gave me a better position on the part of Lord Rius. They usually gave me things to sign and I read through them and-


    "I did read them, honest! I came here to try and take responsibility because William said I should! Please, sis! Don''t hurt me again, please!!"


    His actions were those of an idiot, not a monster.


    That was why he had stayed alive, walking from town to town smiling and getting everyone into trouble. His companions were attacked, and he ran away only to come back later, expecting to be part of the group. He accompanied a questing knight, and his idiocy saw the man lose everything he owned. He was told to act as a guide to a secret mission, and he blew the whole thing by publically announcing it. Yet no one killed him or punished him, and Edmund Telus was helpless to stop his own humiliation.


    And now, he had reached the end of his long journey and lucked out by being given a position of authority he did not deserve. Only this position was in charge of an illegal slaving operation. So now Tanith was supposed to just accept who he was and smile and let him get off. Like everyone else.


    As usual.


    Tanith lunged, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him against the wall. It broke beneath the impact, and he screamed like a child as he hit the ground. Whimpering, Tanith moved forward and kicked him in the teeth, bloodying his mouth. He didn''t lose any to Tanith''s disappointment. Then grab him by the hair she smashed him against the stone wall. He fell to the ground and tried to scale, but she grabbed his hand and bit his fingers.


    Anborn screamed, and Tanith shut him up by smashing him across the face with her hand. Kicking him again while he was down, he tried to stand up. But Tanith grabbed him and, seeing an altar of the Shark Queen, pulled him along. He pulled out of his cloak, but she was on him, savagely kicking him to quiet him down. Finally pulling him to the alter, she threw him down onto it and drew her knife. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Please, sis! Please don''t kill me!" screamed Anborn. "I won''t do it again! Please don''t kill me!"


    "I''ll kill him!" roared Tanith, raising it. "I will kill him!


    "ANBORN WILL DIE!!"


    But Anborn pulled off the altar in a final desperate move, falling to the ground. She halted her dagger rather than stab into it. Climbing over it, Tanith walked after him, smiling. She''d waited years for this, and now she could finally do it with a clear conscience.


    Anborn was in agony. All his inexplicable luck and charm could not save him now. His was bloody; his every limb was in agony. And Tanith was supposed to pity him because mean old daddy expected him to make something of himself.


    She''d take her time with this.


    She deserved it after all these years. Kata stepped forward but was caught by her own people.


    "The Shark Queen is taking vengeance," said Osris. "We cannot interfere."


    And not one Furbearer stood in her way. Anborn had nowhere to run to, and the Furbearers regarded her as an avatar of the Shark Queen. Now she was at him, but the miserable creature was at someone''s feet.


    Tanith saw her and, in some sense, knew she had always known her.


    "Get out of my way, Imogen," said Tanith. "I''ll kill him over your corpse if I must."


    "You can''t do this," said Imogen. "You can''t use a human being as a vessel to murder their blood. Just because your power is channeling through her doesn''t make her your subordinate.


    "This a blatant overstepping of the rules."


    "Who''s using a vessel?" asked Tanith. "I''ve wanted Anborn dead for years. I have known nearly a decade of hatred for him.


    "And now I have the chance to do it!"


    "Mother will be upset!" said Anborn.


    "Mother is through with you!" said Tanith.


    "House Telus has no use for a coward who abandons his friends! You go from town to town, romancing redheads until they realize what a spoiled child you are!


    "And so you move on, listless and devoid of meaning, bringing ruin on allies! And now, having taken up with the enemies of our House and turned on your own family, you plead mercy?


    "How much mercy have you been given already? How many times do others have to suffer your stupidity before you learn?"


    "This is not a proportionate response!" said Imogen.


    "Yeah, and you''re a trustworthy source here," said Tanith, backhanding her. "The Goddess who is half-responsible for this mess is complaining. You''ve already killed far better men than Anborn with your backstabbing. If you don''t want to be up next, you little bitch, you''d better shut up!" She looked to Anborn, who was quivering in fear. The ground was soaked in his blood. "If I hadn''t sworn to Mother that I would not gut you when I was twelve...


    "Do you know what you have done?! You''ve just nearly started a war! You''ve killed hundreds of thousands of people and destroyed the balance of power!"


    "So did you," said Anborn, trying to stand.


    Tanith kicked him again and, grasping a stick, hit him repeatedly with.


    "Yes, but I did that on purpose out of misguided well-intentions and bloodlust," said Tanith. "You didn''t even have the guts to do that! You just flittered away your time and let your talents go to waste! And Sunthred and I have had to work overtime just to keep you from disgracing our family name!


    "What were you thinking?!"


    "I was trying to make something of myself!" said Anborn.


    "What?" said Tanith, incredulous.


    "I was trying to prove I could do this," said Anborn. "I... I realized I hadn''t achieved anything, and my potential was being wasted. But the Khasmir Campaign ended before I could do anything. I thought I could pay back some of the money I lost for Father."


    "So why didn''t you take up something smaller?" asked Tanith, throwing the stick away and punching him across the face. "You''ve been loafing around for years. If you''d started taking up your duties earlier, you''d have been given something small as well. Any humiliation you might have had would have been the price you paid for the delay." Tanith halted and realized that she was about to commit a kinslaying. "Alright...


    "You get to live, but only because it could backfire. If you didn''t have a Goddess coming out of anywhere to bail you out, you''d be dead on that altar.


    "I''m going to give you a quest. You fulfill it; you live. You don''t; you die."


    "What is it..." said Anborn, pulling himself up. "Anything."


    "There''s going to be a battle soon," said Tanith. "You are going to fight with the Furbearers. I want you at the front of the battle. And you are not to retreat at all.


    "If you flee, I will kill you.


    "If you betray them, I will kill you.


    "If you are captured, you will not be delivered by my hand.


    "And if you distinguish yourself... you will regain your honor like water in sand. Even if you win a great victory, you will not get the respect you want. You will have to fight, from one misery to another! You will have to endure the disrespect and humiliation of those around you.


    "There will probably come a time where you curse the very day you were born, that you might yourself and others pain.


    "You are not trying to make a name for yourself. Instead, you are trying to destroy the name that was made for you."


    "I''m sorry," said Anborn.


    "Apologize by future action," said Tanith. "Someone get him a healer; the wounds have stung him enough. Ensure he is not mistreated but given no undue preference.


    "Anborn is to be at the thickest part of the fighting."


    "He''ll die," said Osris matter.


    "Or he may find himself stronger than you think," said Tanith. "William did." And she faded. "I don''t speak for the Shark Queen anymore.


    "Imogen has stolen the role from me. And I must go at once to my Father to learn what has happened.


    "Anborn..." She took a breathe and calmed down before looking at him seriously. "Please don''t disappoint me. Father is going to need you, you and Sunthred. I can''t rule Ran Telus; I''m not cut out for that kind of work. And our power is expanding rapidly.


    "I leave at once."


    Then she looked to Imogen. "And you... if you ever threaten Harlenor again, I''ll kill you and your pantheon! So keep your loveable rogues out of Elranor''s territory!"


    Imogen stood up, shivering in the cold. "I uh... I guess that''s my cue to leave."


    Then she was gone in a flash.


    Dead silence.


    "I gotta say, I think her reaction is perfectly reasonable," said Sokar. "Get the idiot a healer."


    For once, Anborn had a decent reason to cry. But he tried not to this time, so that was good. Tanith took her swords from Kata. Kata halted. "Tanith, I''m going with you."


    "Why?" asked Tanith, buckling them onto her scabbard.


    "I feel I''ll be needed with you," said Kata. "And I''d like to see how your story goes.


    "...Do you think that Anborn represented something? They say the future is foreshadowed in the present."


    "No," said Tanith. "Your people were never that weak.


    "And my sins are along a very different path." Then she halted as a messenger came in.


    "Chieftain Osris," said the messenger. "Lord Kern''s forces are approaching the river."


    Tanith took Kata''s gaze. "I will watch.


    "But I will not be on the field."


    Anborn opened his mouth to speak as he was given a knife. Tanith looked at him, and he looked away. It was time to get this idiot killed, so Father didn''t have to worry about him anymore.


    Or maybe he''d survive and be a hero.


    Tanith didn''t really care. But, she sort of hoped things would turn around for him.


    They''d see.


    Either way, she didn''t need the Shark Queen to tell her to do all this. Nor did she care if she did.

 Chapter Eighteen: Blood on the River

    Here they were, back at the bridge.


    Anborn stood alone before it, shivering despite several cloaks. His wounds were healed, but the pain of them was still on him. The snowbanks had almost completely melted now, revealing tundra and crag grass. The Furbearers were barely visibly perched by the river in careful concealment.


    Only Anborn could be seen; he and Tanith were some ways behind. She would kill him if he ran from battle again; it was a matter of principle. He''d shamed her house long enough. Still, Tanith had faith Anborn would do the right thing.


    Eventually.


    "So, do we have any kind of plan here?" asked Tanith.


    "Well, Anborn is to stand at the bridge and look like a one-man army," said Sokar. "Or, like he thinks he''s a one-man army. He challenges them, they attack him, and he dies, and they think they have clear passage. They move in off-guard, and we catch them at the mouth of the river and initiate our real plan."


    "Which is?" asked Tanith.


    "Hit them from the hillocks with slings and draw them out gradually," said Sokar. "We''ll also block off the bridge. But Edward is smart and has probably laid aside boats just in case." He halted. "Tanith, if you had a choice...


    "Would your brother live?"


    "Is answering that question going to affect my fate?" asked Tanith.


    "It could," said Sokar.


    "Is this some sort of prophecy thing?" asked Tanith.


    "No," said Sokar. "But most people who channel the Shark Queen tend to die.


    "See, the Shark Queen only directly appears when doom is imminent. Most of the time she uses a proxy if she wants to appear at all. And those proxies almost always die.


    "I kind of feel like it''s you or Anborn."


    "Well then, I can''t answer it honestly, can I," said Tanith.


    "Let''s say there were no consequences," said Sokar.


    "I choose to live," said Tanith in no mood for self-sacrifice. "His fate is his own. If a decision one way will lead to my survival, then I''ll choose that way."


    "But what if you could save his life and save yourself?" asked Sokar.


    "Would I have to put myself at risk to do so?" asked Tanith.


    Sokar paused. "Probably, yes."


    "Then I choose to save myself at his expense," said Tanith, deciding there was no point in mincing words. "I''ve already spared him once, and I don''t think he''s going to last five minutes. I don''t want to die. Things are going well for me; I followed my orders and won great victories.


    "I''ve done good work out here.


    "Why should I be sacrificed for the sake of a people who I don''t care about? This may be the end of the world for you. But to me, this is a minor skirmish. Worthy of Anborn to die in, but not me.


    "And I don''t want to die at all.


    "Right now, I love being a warrior, but I won''t always. And things have been set up so I could put the sword down respectively. I''ve always admired Mother, and somebody is going to have run Ran Telus after Anborn dies.


    "I could marry William, grow old, have children.


    "Now, obviously, in the short term, I''ve got all kinds of great deeds to perform. But this is not the kind of place where Tanith Telus'' story can end. Or else my life will have been a failure.


    "If Anborn survives and fights with honor...


    "Good.


    "If not, I have my own swords to wield. He''s been coddled too much; he has to learn to pay the price for his actions. I want him to win gloriously and gain great victories while I do the same, and everyone lives happily after.


    "I think we both know that isn''t going to happen. Blood calls out for blood; someone always wants revenge."


    "Well, I hope he wins the battle singlehanded at this point," said Sokar ruefully. "The odds are against us. We''ve had some scuffles and fought to hold our ground.


    "But I don''t think we can handle a full-scale assault."


    Tanith sighed. "Look, just fight as hard as you can, use every advantage you have, and don''t cross the river. If you attack, you''re dead. Nobody is going to sit still for a Furbearer offensive. Not without a lot more misbehavior by Kern; he''s too important right now."


    "I''ll tell my Father," said Sokar.


    The distant appearances of Lord Kern''s castle were little threat. But the oncoming march of the troops Tanith had seen was. They were both Harlenorian and Dren; you could tell because the Drens were bigger. They held spears and large shields and marched forward. Some also carried boats to ford the now swift-flowing river.


    No weather impeded them, no storm clouds hung overhead.


    This was the Furbearer''s battle to win or lose. And from the looks of things, it would be a very terrible battle. Tanith had seen the Furbearers before and knew they lacked training. Sokar''s men had given the basics. Even so, they weren''t near a Haldrenian militia''s strength. Haldrenian militia trained regularly, and no introduction would be sufficient. The street brawls and peacekeeping from before paled in comparison to a real war.


    And many among these men might be veterans.


    Of course, so were the Furbearers, and they had the home-field advantage and perhaps surprise. If they were lucky, they could duplicate Duke Vanion''s success. However, Tanith was beginning to think that they''d used up most of their luck earlier. Their escape had been blessed by heaven.


    They could not count on it again.


    If they broke here, they were done for. If they fought, they were soldiers. Tanith could arrange some sort of amnesty; nobody was going to allow this.


    Soon enough, the boats were set onto the river by the Harlenorians. At the same time, the Drens were scaling across the bridge.


    "You may go no further," said Anborn, trembling with his spear forward. "I won''t let you cross this bridge. Turn back, or I''ll fight you."


    "Kill him," said the Dren''s, as many laughed.


    And four of them broke ranks to attack Anborn, who fell to one knee and stabbed at the leg of the foremost. Used to fighting in formation, the man was not prepared and screamed as his leg was pierced. Anborn drew it aside and shrieked in terror as he rolled away from a stab. Driving his spear home, he got his enemy through the heart, but his spear was shattered by a shield. Ducking under a stroke, he was nicked and snatched a knife to throw it. The knife went wide, but his enemy ducked while the other moved in for the kill.


    Throwing himself down, Agravain snatched a knife and was hit by his charging enemy''s feet. Screaming in pain, he watched as his enemy fell, and pulling himself up, Anborn stabbed him in the back. Turning, he hurled his knife again and, by luck, got his last opponent in the throat. By now, the boats were landing, and the Harlenorians were getting off the shore.


    At once, the Furbearers began to pelt stones, and several fell senseless. But others locked shields and moved forward, covering the coming of their fellows. A few got through as men got off the boats or were traversing, but they moved in at the Furbearers.


    By now, Anborn had stabbed the wounded soldier to death as he begged for mercy and wept openly. A little less crying would be nice, but his technique had potential. Then he looked to Tanith as if to be called back. The Drens stared in a fury.


    Was Tanith supposed to be impressed? He should have done this years ago. "Do it again."


    "Kill him!" said the Drens.


    And they rushed forward en masse. Anborn snatched up a spear, but as he did, the Furbearers waiting in ambush came from all sides. Wielding clubs and axes, the battle was joined in full, and there were no ranks. Just Dren and Furbearer killing one another, while Anborn stabbed at men''s feet. Or caught them in the back while crying to himself.


    Pathetic.


    He regained his honor like snowflakes off death''s shoulders. Unimportant and soon to be killed, and so much the better. At least he would die better than he lived.


    It was time for Tanith to remind the Furbearers whose hand they eat from.


    Moving down the shore, she closed on the ranks of House Kern as they began to route them. Drawing her swords, she felt the will of the Shark Queen on her, promising a glorious victory.


    "Begone spirit, leave me to my own battles," said Tanith, bounding over a hillock. "I serve Elranor only, and these men shall dine with him tonight!"


    Then Tanith laughed and fell upon the men of House Kern. These were militia, well experienced, but nothing to a knight. Her blade caught one in the throat. Another she slashed across the tendon so that he could be finished. A third stroke pierced a heart, and a fourth cut off a head.


    On and on it went as she filled the river with bodies. Laughing with joy, she routed them, driving them back to their ships. Then, tossing her swords into the air, she caught them as she ran. And she fell on the ground, slashing these worthless heathens with a delight and power she had never felt.


    Down fell one barbarian, then another, then another.


    Anborn was clashing blades with a man, but Tanith did nothing to help him. She helped everyone except him, killing and killing. And when she realized the flow of warriors to him was diminishing. She pushed across the bridge and slew all she could find. So that soon, the men of House Kern fled in terror. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Go back, traitors!" said Tanith. "Go simper and slave to your wives! Let Lord Kern supplant you as is your duel! Some among us have a sense of culture!"


    And laughed, she wiped her blades on the grass and walked back to the battlefield. Anborn was lying on the ground. Tanith considered helping him. However, she remembers Mother giving him comforting words. That was when Tanith scraped her knee. Words of how he would find his place.


    "Find something useful to do," said Tanith.


    "I know how to bandage wounds," said Anborn.


    "Then do it," said Tanith. "If any will trust you to do it."


    Anborn stood up and went to look for bandages.


    All in all, a lovely day.


    Looking at the trail of corpses Tanith left behind her, she knew that Kern would lament this day. His first strike had been turned back, and her warning had been made good on. Anborn was finally making himself useful. And she had complete deniability.


    Looking at the Furbearers, she saw Sokar had a bandaged arm. Kata had been kept out of the fight and was now healing.


    "Good skirmish," said Tanith. "Keep practicing."


    The look on their face was priceless.


    For today, this had been the end of the world. But for Tanith, this was reliving the old days from a different perspective. It was very entertaining; once you got past the hang-ups killing Harlenorians was fun too. And Kern had deserved it, while the slaughter of those Drens should keep the bloodline pure.


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    There were even some prisoners. Tanith must have missed a few.


    Anborn was working to help with the healing of a few Haldrenians; no one would let him near the Furbearers. His eyes were dead, his face was bloody again, and he looked like he was going to throw up.


    Tanith did not care.


    And the fact that she did not care made her smile. The knowledge that her worthless brother could die and she would not care made her happy. He was probably the evilest person she had ever met.


    "Why do you exist!" said Tanith. "Stop being evil!"


    Laughter from many Furbearers, and Tanith became very angry. She thought about killing him again to tie up loose ends.


    "Stop it!" said Kata. "Tanith''s love for Anborn and the Shark Queen''s love for us are identical! Perform your duties and honor the gods!


    "And someone patch up his face!"


    Which meant that Tanith was playing the role of the Shark Queen again. She saw as Kata tended to Agravain using the power of healing. When had she gotten that? It didn''t matter; Tanith picked up a sword from a body. Moving forward, she approached Anborn.


    He looked up at her with empty eyes. "Anborn, stand guard here and ensure no one comes by. Hold your ground; they must not cross the river again." And she offered him a sword."Take this sword from my hand.


    "It is a blade from an enemy you slew. Wield it with pride as a warrior." The enemy was his own cowardice.


    "Will it ever end?" asked Anborn.


    "You used up your family''s happiness and tolerance before now," said Tanith. She feels less herself by the moment. "So you have to earn more. What you have done here is the first step of paying off your debt.


    "If you want to be admired, you must perform great acts of bravery and kindness. If you want to be loved, you must treat your companions and family well in turn. To be known for wisdom, you must have knowledge.


    "To die well, you must live well."


    And she turned away as Anborn took the sword and smiled.


    Things continued in much that way. Anborn was allowed to heal others, and Tanith saw Kata and Sokar speaking together. Yet things changed when a party of men approached under a white flag of parley. Edward Kern was at the head, and he wore mail and a long sword.


    There was a stir among the Furbearers, but Osris raised a hand. "I will speak to him. Who will accompany me?"


    "I''ll go," said Kata.


    "No," said Osris. "Sokar, you and Kata must remain behind in case of treachery. Tanith, you shall accompany me. Thus far, you have been my herald, now I ask that you do so again."


    Tanith nodded and walked ahead to the bridge. As she did, Anborn stepped between her. "You told me not to let anyone pass," said Anborn.


    "Very nice," said Tanith. "But unless you want to fight everyone here and start a war, let me and King Osris through."


    Anborn did. King? Yes, he might as well be a King by this point. Reality had been violated.


    Tanith moved forward over the bridge. Coming to it, she saw Edward, whose pretty face darkened at her sight. He wore a blue cloak and very shiny armor and seemed to think he was setting an example. His face had a kind of tortured pseudo-compassion that Tanith had seen on Eitrigg. The sort of dull, cow-eyed stare of someone who wants to be noble or thinks they are noble but doesn''t know what a noble is.


    No doubt barmaids would find it very easy to giggle at. Tanith would love to cleave his skull. And judging from how he looked at her in equal hatred, though he hid it, the feeling was mutual. Tanith relished the memory of shutting him down when he tried to be her knight. "Tanith Telus, there will come a day when you aren''t protected by your title."


    Tanith laughed. "And here I thought I was the hero. Aren''t you an abolitionist, Edward?"


    "You deliberately killed as many of the Calishans as possible," said Edward.


    "It''s possible," said Tanith. "I kill a lot of people.


    "You threatened my House''s power, and through it, you threatened House Gabriel. Kata and Sokar had a common cause, so I decided to send a message. How is your boat collection?" He''d always liked to build them when real men were going to kill people. Building wells and granaries and never doing anything interesting or useful.


    William at least knew how to make commentary. But this cow-eyed fool had a vacant stare and a sort of puppy-dog expression, like Anborn but even less interesting.


    "I am here to call an immediate halt to these hostilities," said Edward. "Will you parley with me?"


    "I''m just Osris'' herald," said Tanith. "And I assure you, none of these people are happy about Lord Kern''s benevolent rule. Call your guard off and meet him at the bridge alone.


    "I''m only here to ensure no treachery is planned."


    "How many of your own people did you kill today, Tanith?" asked Edward.


    "None," said Tanith. "How many did you?"


    Edward narrowed his eyes. "I''ve never taken a slave nor forced myself on any woman of any race."


    "You''re a liar," said Tanith.


    "My Father acted without my men in this action," said Edward. "I am here to try and salvage matters. I objected repeatedly and sought to-"


    "You are a liar!" shouted Tanith, pointing at him. "So is your Father. Two brazen oathbreakers who employ thieves and murderers rather than honorable battle. Lord Kern was a murderer from the beginning of this, and you his accomplish.


    "I saw you standing in his company. Do you think your title will protect you from my scorn? I have endured the corruption of Antion; I shall not endure the same in Haldren."


    "A Lord must maintain public unity," said Edward. "I might have had different views from my Father, but appearances had to be maintained."


    "Reality should have been maintained," said Tanith. "If you supported your Father, you should have supported him utterly. If you did not, you should have opposed him openly and gone to war against him. Harlenorians do not take half-measures.


    "They are loyal to their friend''s masters and ruthless to their enemies. You are neither, weak. A feeble mediocrity who undercuts his parents, even as he professes to serve them."


    "And what are you then?" asked Edward. "All the world is horrified at your deeds."


    "The world may believe what it wills," said Tanith. "I care not for the opinions of those who do me. Not once have I contradicted the commands of my Father or my commander. When a task is set before me, it is done, and all that oppose the fulfillment of that task are destroyed.


    "I honor my Father and Mother; I defend my nation and my people. I slay the enemies of my god so that they will not threaten my land. Even if those enemies lie within.


    "I have shed blood for my nation! I have gazed with haughty eyes at those I hate! My feet are swift to battle and slow to withdraw! I stir up conflict wherever I go, that my enemies might be broken and my friends! But know that I have never born false witness nor lied!


    "Had I been given the same choices again, I would have made them the same way! For to do otherwise would be to reject the nature of myself and all who knew me!


    "I am Haldrenian! And those who threaten the people under my protection will die!


    "Discard your sword and call your men off. They will not help either of you should hostilities begin."


    "My men, I shall call off," said Edward. "Yet I shall never disarm for you, Tanith."


    Tanith looked to Osris, who nodded. "Very well.


    "King Osris has chosen to humor you. Follow me."


    Osris came forward. "I am King Osris of the Furbearers.


    "It''s been a few years Edward. The word of House Kern seems to have lost much value of late."


    "The war on your people was waged so that one noble could have power over another," said Edward. He was looking to men lined up for execution. "These men you have slain were refugees brought in from the wars that men who would rather not build started. They received a poor welcome in their new home and sought to redeem it by seizing the bridge.


    "I ask that you allow them to leave in peace."


    "How much will you pay for ransom?" asked Osris.


    "Lord Kern told them when their leaders their intentions. He told them he could not deliver them from ransom," said Edward. "However, I am willing to discuss terms.


    "My finances are my own." He paused. "I would know how Tanith Telus fits into this matter. Is she here by the authority of her people? She saved my son and daughter from slavery and aided my people against the Babarassians.


    "We are in her debt and House Gabriel."


    "And what of Anborn," said Edward. "How does he stand among you?"


    "Let him speak for himself," said Osris.


    This was ridiculous.


    Was this a parley or some sort of sermon? You''d need a priest, a prophet or a messiah for that. And Edward was none of those things. Anborn remained silent and looked away. Tanith put a hand on his shoulder, and Edward''s gaze darkened.


    "She''s treated you very poorly, hasn''t she?" asked Edward.


    Anborn turned and walked off in disgust. This seemed to surprise Edward. "King Osris, your flaw was thinking too well of ambitious men. Will you succumb to the opposite fault?


    "Will you embark on the path of blood and seek war for its own sake?"


    "No," said Osris. "I would rather have been left to mind my own house and my people. To be but a man who is occasionally called upon to mediate on unpleasant matters.


    "My desire was to raise my children with my wife. And when my wife was claimed, I resolved to do as I could without her.


    "But, that future is now gone.


    "I must be a King for my people and children. To do otherwise is to court disaster. The old ways are fading. Alliances can no longer sustain themselves by affection alone."


    "Would you then cast off all that your people are?" asked Edward.


    "Would you?" asked Osris.


    And, of course, the answer was yes.


    That was what this battle was about. It had nothing to do with Dark Lords. Tanith and William, and many others were fighting for the soul of their nation. Of all nations. On the one side was a society of warrior poets, brave and courageous in battle. The others were fat merchants and self-righteous nobility who never lifted a finger. The one was armed with the power of the gods and bold deeds. The other with shallow, pseudo-pacifist garbage. A thin facade to distract from their use of money to undercut the common and destroy the church.


    Edward Kern was the hero of that side. A never before seen figure who arrived to prostrate himself. To whine when the battle was already over.


    "Take the prisoners," said Osris. "I have no desire to see any more death.


    "I have lost too many friends."


    And the Furbearers were his victims.


    Yes, of course, if they won, they''d say the Furbearers were the heroes. If these merchants enslaved everyone, their next step would be keeping them in line. King Osris, the last heroic native to resist the evil Harlenorians, would be a perfect tragic hero. A perpetual reminder to the lower classes that they were tainted by sin. And must accept the judgment of fat merchants who exploited them.


    "I thank you," said Edward. "What is Harlenor worth, Reunited?"


    The question was asked to Tanith.


    But Tanith was not unprofessional. She had said her piece as the Shark Queen, and though she dearly desired to cut him down there, she would not. Staying where she was, she watched King Osris. "Very little to you, it would seem."


    Edward turned. It was as if some heroic person taking instruction with his cloak flowing behind him.


    And he moved off on his own.


    His men looked at him as though he were some kind of saint. For openly disparaging Harlenor and everything everyone had fought and died for. Was it for that so many great men had labored and died? Was it for this that William had entered Seathorius, been cast into prison, and thrown away?


    A stalemate had been reached between them.


    The two forces of Harlenor, corruption and heroism, were at war. And yet Kern, in his parting shot, had disgraced everything Tanith stood for. Surely she should let it go? But what if she did let it go?


    Suffered a humiliation for Kern''s sake? Suffered Harlenor''s humiliation for Kern''s vanity.


    No.


    It was too much.


    To allow that would set forth a terrible precedent. That Harlenor could be scorned by a defeated enemy. The truce could not be allowed. Not yet.


    No, no, she could not let this happen.


    She could not endanger the Furbearers. Tanith looked to Osrif and yet saw similar anger. Why?


    Because he had been treated as a child. No great formality had been given him, nor even the title acknowledged. Not even treated as an equal but as an innocent child who come into thing beyond its comprehension. A stupid servant whose only role was to be brutalized. Then dismissed with half-feigned apologies.


    "This cannot stand!" screamed Tanith before drawing both swords. "For Harlenor!"


    And she raced over the bridge, and Anborn and the Furbearers were fast behind her. They prayed then, for a day of victory where House Kern would be utterly destroyed.


    The Shark Queen granted the former at least.


    Edward Kern saw them coming and rushed at once to the stronghold. Men were raised at once, but many had been drinking, thinking the fighting over. Their weapons were not near at hand, and the Furbearers fell on them. They hacked them up with axes and smashed the kegs of Naker beer. Some grasped for weapons, and Kern struck dead two Furbearers with his sword. Another three fell to him in a moment as they came at him. And Tanith perceived that he was the center of resistance.


    "Harlenor for the world!!" roared Tanith.


    Descending, she killed one of his men, and he cried out his name, though Tanith did not hear. Their blades clashed, and they were face to face, now looking on in the purest hatred. Soon Tanith was on him, her blades in a blur, dueling one another as near equals. Tanith was better and nicked him, but he was almost as good as Will.


    Enraged, Tanith attacked all the faster, yet his defense did not give.


    Anborn stabbed one through the heart and nearly lost his head, but he knocked the man flat. Sokar cut the throat of another while Kata and the slinging slew many. There was King Osrif, hewing about him with an axe and cleaving many men. But more were coming, and soon House Kern was coming at them with arrows. Several men were slain by them, while others were pierced by spears.


    "Fall back!" cried Osrif, hewing two men down. "Regroup at the river!"


    Tanith fought against Kern, seeking to take his life. Yet no matter how many times her blade cut him, it was never lethal. At last, she kicked him down to the dirt and disarmed him. "We will face one another again!"


    And turning, she fled last of all, back over the river.


    They had left behind them great carnage, having killed many soldiers. But no one had slain any who were not warriors. Someone had set fire to the barracks, and it was blazing with all the supplies inside. Returning to the bridge, they manned the defenses.


    "If Lord Kern wishes to make any further entreaties," said Osrif. "He may treat with me as an equal. We are no servants.


    "And we made him no promises of peace."


    An agreement, but it was grim. And Tanith had the feeling the place might be attacked again. However, if nothing else, the corruption''s power had been checked.


    "Why did we have to do that?" asked Anborn. "We''d gotten peace."


    "It wouldn''t have mattered, Anborn," said Tanith, feeling as though she was explaining to a child. "They don''t respect them. Just like other people don''t respect you.


    "No matter how nice or reasonable you are, if people don''t fear your wrath, they''ll sell you for a slave." She sighed and quickly looked at Osrif. "Can I burrow some paper and ink?"


    "Yes," said Osrif.


    Tanith wrote it out quickly and set it to dry in the sun.


    It said;


    Father,


    I am engaged in a battle alongside our Furbearer allies. I had hoped to meet with you before, but House Kern has tried to invade them twice. The war is beginning to escalate. I am sending Anborn to you. He has killed many enemies in battle, and I think he should be given a chance to redeem himself.


    I cannot go to you at the moment, but I hope this finds you in good health.


    Your loving daughter,


    Tanith.


    Then, when it was done, she gave it to Anborn.


    "Take this to Father," said Tanith. "Apologize to him and ask to be given the opportunity to serve. Don''t invoke family; it will only bring up old wounds."


    Anborn nodded. "Right, yes.


    "I... Tanith, I''m sorry about all this."


    "It''s not always enough," said Tanith.


    Anborn nodded and left.


    And Tanith wondered if she would ever see him again.


    But, for now, they''d have many great skirmishes before the end. The sun was shining, the snow was melting, and the river flowing as men fished out the corpses. It seemed they were in for a truly wonderful time.


    Today had been a good day.

 Chapter Nineteen: Conspiracy

    The forest was unpleasant. Flies were everywhere, and the air had a bloated heat to it. One could hardly tell the difference between one''s sweat and the humid air. You were always tripping over roots and stones as you walked. Sometimes it took a light spell to keep going in the darker places of the wood.


    And to make matters worse, Jehair slowed their progress. She kept gathering herbs now and then. William supposed they had moved very quickly before now.


    It was like Seathorius, but there was no real magic to the place, save for the subtle, everyday kind. The gnoll''s efforts created a better encampment, and the fire scared some away. But most of his time was spent in a barren, stone hut, reading through the documentation.


    He''d spent time visiting every gnoll village he could, but he found no other documents. Most of the villages were badly in need of reorganization. Many walls had to erected and cesspits dug and streets cleaned. It was miserable and stank to high heaven, and his efforts were not appreciated.


    Even so, what he found in the documents was well worth the effort.


    The most important thing he learned was that Cirithil had been active in the slave trade through Lamech. From the sounds of things, Cirithil ran many of the markets. Most of the warehouses were owned by Lilas, who asked no questions. However, he had chiefly sold to Sorn. Those here would have been transported by sea from the High Priest''s private pier.


    From there, they would be shipped to the Sornian sugar plantations. There they would be worked to death. It seemed that many slaves had been taken from Blackfear. There the villages were isolated. Lamech had been the chief operative here; Tavish had simply recorded it. His letters seemed to indicate distaste.


    What did it matter at this point?


    These were the men who ran Antion. A collection of thieving monsters who had bought out everyone and everything. All so they could drink themselves into a stupor. To think that William had thought better of Lilas after leaving Rius. His true face had been on display from the beginning.


    Felix entered the hut, bending over at the entry.


    "Felix, you''ve returned," said William. "What news?"


    "Asus has led his men out as you requested," said Felix. "They and Massacre have linked up with Vorn Atravain, and they are scouting out the wildlands.


    "Asus is putting together maps and has promised to share them. Apparently, there have been a few skirmishes with bandits. However, most have simply cleared out, and Vorn is sending them back.


    "The repair work on ancient structures is going well. Several old watchtowers are being cleared and repaired. And by now, the place is all but in possession of House Gabriel. Unofficially, of course."


    "And Cirithil?" asked William, feeling hatred for the man.


    Apparently, some of the slaves had been sold off-world, many in large numbers. Mostly women to some unknown buyer. Lilan was described in favorable terms by Cirithil as a cunning mentor figure. Though none of this is directly connected.


    Ah, yes, William remembered him now, a conceited man who abused his workers. That did seem like the sort of thing Cirithil would regard as powerful. It brought to mind a kind of shadowy and cunning individual. But William doubted such a figure would waste their time.


    So chances are Cirithil had just been told whatever he wanted to hear. Even so, it turned out that someone called Nagos introduced Cirithil to Maius and later Chun Xi. Cirithil seems to have absolute contempt for Nagos and regards him as stupid and naive. Judging from the writings, Nagos kept only a very occasional meeting.


    Was it the same Nagos as Chaminus?


    Here was something, a letter addressed to Lamech;


    Lamech,


    That fool, Nagos, actually suggested I get out of the slave trade. And his only argument for it was that it was against my god''s will. He honestly thought I''d give up an immense source of profit for the sake of religion. As if the worship of some sky daddy was of any relevance.


    Next, he''ll be arguing that it isn''t the right thing to do.


    I''ve humored him to use later. He has enough wit to play his part. His connection to Chaminus might be useful before our friends in Sorn put the dog down.


    -Cirithil.


    Seeing as Imogen believed Nagos was very dangerous, William doubted it.


    Still, Nagos did not seem to be profiting from any business ventures. Looking around, William found one letter from Nagos. What was it doing here?


    My friend, Cirithil,


    I understand that you don''t really believe in the high ideals of your position. And I get why you came to believe it. The world isn''t a perfect place.


    But this is going to backfire. You can''t do this forever, and sooner or later, something will go wrong. And if the corruption gets too bad, this Lamech guy will slaughter you. I know his kind; he is a killer through and through.


    He is not your friend, and you''ve got to put some distance between him before it it is too late.


    -Nagos.


    Was this an attempt to redeem an evildoer?


    Nagos had known him longer.


    But it was obvious they''d talked extensively. So why would Nagos continue to work with him? Were they old friends? And why had Tavish put this here? Was it planted as insurance against Cirithil? Obviously, he hadn''t wanted to implicate Lamech.


    Or Lamech might have done it as a means of breaking his tool.


    What did he even want?


    No letters directly from him, so William wondered if Nagos even existed. He would have to ask Maius later, without confrontation, of course. One of the letters said something interesting, however;


    Cirithil,


    Remember that Nagos is the last descendant of the old god of ancient Namina, Arcturus. This means he has certain powers of persuasion. You would do well to consider if he is really as stupid as you make him out to be.


    He is a King and a very effective one. His nation has gone unraided despite being surrounded by hostile pirates. He has constructed an extensive fleet. In addition, he has good relations with the surrounding lands.


    He is also a subordinate to the Dinisiam Emperor, Octavus.


    Underestimate Nagos at your peril. You are seeing in him what you want to see, and he allows you to do so.


    Sincerely,


    Lamech.


    Last descendant of Arcturus?


    That didn''t fit, as ancient Namina sank into the sea long ago during the God War. Accounts as to how it happened vary a great deal. But the general consensus was that they lost their colonies in Kalthak to King Abdul Sahshir. Then Baltoth and Zeya fought it out with the God of Friendship, whose name had been forgotten. And everything fell to bits.


    Though some accounts said Zeya never set foot there. A few even suggested that Karus did it, and it was all planned by Valranor. In this version of the accounts, Baltoth was manipulated into destroying it. Or, alternatively, playing an important role.


    However, Baltoth was supreme, and Valranor was quite dead. So William didn''t believe it. It might be attributed to mere propaganda from Calisha, but Baltoth would be happy to take credit for it. And who would be stupid enough to lie about Baltoth being weak while his empire was over the next river?


    Someone very safe, in a different land.


    Perhaps these foreigners had been hoping to engineer strife or some of them at any rate. Not all foreigners were alike. It was at this stage irrelevant. Cirithil had discounted Nagos as a fool, King to a doomed realm. One to be used before he was disposed of as soon as possible.


    Largely he accepted payment for his stock in Maius and Chun Xi''s brothels. Cirithil labeled ''tribute'' using signs for sarcasm.


    How did Nagos connect to Maius, Isriath, and Chun Xi?


    Then there was a letter from Lilas;


    Cirithil,


    My congratulations on your attendance to business, High Priest. However, you must realize that your actions are alarming Lord Rius. It may be best to take a more subtle approach for whatever further moves you make.


    Lady Atravain is writing letters to Haldren, and King Gavin is not powerless. Prince Aras has already moved to Ascorn and is communicating with his elf mistress. Our operations in Dinis are bearing fruit.


    -Your friend,


    Lilas.


    Lilas,


    Put the child at ease.


    We won''t need him for much longer anyway. Once the power vacuum becomes clear, it will be a simple matter to shift you into it.


    Stolen story; please report.


    As for Haldren, I''ve rerouted our usual slave shipments off-world. So many new markets, you know. Atravain needs to buy slaves, and I''ve made a few suggestions as to where. Rounding up a few villages of savage Furbearers will satiate the need. From there, it will throw Haldren into chaos.


    We can use that for our masters goals.


    -Cirithil.


    Unbelievable.


    Cirithil truly did think he was above the law to write so blatantly. No one else in correspondence was nearly this blatant.


    One or two offhand mentions of ''straightening out differences'' with uncooperative merchants. From the sounds of things, Lamech was playing the role of middle-man for everyone, like Lilas. Only Lamech loved dealing in blood, and his hand relished it. But nobody noticed because he was seven feet tall and wearing black skull armor. That and the glowing yellow eyes and wore a sword the size he was. They saw him, said, ''He''s evil,'' and paid no more mind.


    Conversely, Lilan was going out of his way to look humble and unnoticed, and helpful. So everyone knew exactly who he was and the threat he posed. They just didn''t care because his power was nothing but an illusion. One which was enchanting to uneducated, hedonistic dullards like Cirithil. But contemptible and obvious to anyone else.


    And speaking as a serpent, William could not help but feel offended at the comparison.


    The last letter said;


    I hope you enjoyed reading.


    Chosen One of Elranor. I wrote this out for when you came.


    -Lamech.


    Why?


    Lamech must have known that Elranor would take some action. So he prepared a letter for when it was found. But why? Did he just want an audience? Or was he seeking to gloat.


    No one with a political interest in Antion would ever use this information. And no one from the church would have been free of political machinations. Which meant anyone reading all this would almost certainly be someone like William.


    Lamech had been waiting for him. Or someone like him, at least.


    He was putting on a show, playing the role of villain in a grand play he had been set up. A mental image came to William of finding these letters after Antion was in utter ruins. That with the Furbearers destroyed. Yet Lamech probably did not care either way.


    It seemed a very childish way to run your empire.


    "William?" asked Felix.


    William looked back. "There''s a lot of information here I don''t want to be discussed. Read it at your leisure later. We''ll send appropriate letters when we get back."


    "Is it important?" asked Felix.


    "No," said William. "Just verification of what we know already and the names of some compatriots. Look for yourself."


    Felix looked and sighed. "Lilas is no threat."


    "What makes you say that," said William.


    "Because he doesn''t stand and fight," said Felix. "Everything is done indirectly. He has never been in combat, and his subordinates hate him. Cirithil is the primary threat here; he can actually motivate people. Lamech will either fall with him or come in later.


    "It doesn''t matter who is handing out the money in the end. If they can''t motivate people, they will never be a threat. Lilas uses other people''s motivation to rise to power. But he can''t be a reliable servant to everyone. And anyone who pays attention to him will see how he behaves and judge him.


    "Even wicked masters want good subordinates.


    "Eventually, he will have to rely on the goodwill of those he has met before. Once that happens, there will be none. All plans break down eventually. Whether you are able to get up again is a result of the legacy you leave behind.


    "Being a benevolent ruler is the first step to being a powerful one.


    "I cannot respect someone who doesn''t understand that the two are one and the same. Even Cirithil knows how to get the support of his drinking buddies."


    "What would you consider a benevolent rule?" asked William.


    "That is the core question which defines reality," said Felix. "And the principal source of Elranor and Baltoth''s rivalry. Baltoth believes that a ruler must be responsible for everything. Elranor believes that everyone should be responsible for their own lot.


    "If this situation had happened in Calisha, we would not be having this conversation. Everyone involved would have been crucified weeks ago."


    "Many of them might reform," said William.


    "What of it?" asked Felix. "Crime cannot be tolerated.


    "Every crime must be punished as is possible without compromising the state. No one should be safe. Higher officials should suffer worse torments."


    "Doesn''t that apply to Baltoth, too?" asked William.


    Felix remained silent for a moment. "Punishing Baltoth would destroy the state. Do what you will; there will always be some evildoers who escape judgment. For Baltoth to be destroyed, he would have to will his own downfall."


    "Do you think he''ll do that?" asked William.


    "Whether he will or not will define him," said Felix. "But he would need an opportunity first.


    "Order, like chivalry, is an act of art, not nature. One must master their pride before they can create order. Just as one must master their wrath to create a chivalric knight."


    "You''re a wise man," said William.


    "Not nearly wise enough," said Felix wryly. "Or else why would the world be the way it is?"


    "Do you think we should talk to Chun Xi or Maius?" asked William.


    "No," said Felix. "I doubt they were anything but vehicles for foreign investment, much like Tef alongside them. They would not have cooperated if they knew what Cirithil was doing.


    "Don''t have anything to do with them. That is my advice."


    "Is there any good news?" asked William.


    "Apparently, Cirithil''s behavior has lost him friends in the nobility," said Felix. "There is a lot of concern in Antion. Janice has put out a call for investigations on her Mother''s behalf, and it is getting real support.


    "Korlac has already dispatched men to aid in them. However, it will take more to make any progress. And he will not be taking control of the city, as was rumored."


    "The documents?" asked William.


    "Useless at the moment," said Felix. "I have been thinking about this.


    "The problem is that you and Cirithil hate one another, and this will be viewed as a personal vendetta. Even if he has nothing on you, and you''ve proved him guilty of worshipping Diabolus, they won''t let it pass. Antion does not like blood feuds, and King Andoa shuts them down whenever possible.


    "If the fighting gets into the streets, the fighters go out.


    "Your conflict has already lost Cirithil a lot of money, so they probably view you as avenged. Especially since he''s lost control of his own temples, pressing further through your family in Antion would be viewed as a blanket power play."


    "I haven''t met them," said William. "But none of their letters are here.


    "What do you suggest?"


    "You have three choices," said Felix. "First, send it to Vorn and wait. You can use it to destroy Cirithil and his allies at a later date. However, this will lack speed, and many will remember what you did before.


    "It will be viewed as an extension of your attack. In addition, Vorn may have a different idea of how it should be used. He might take it to your Uncle, or he might view it as an opportunity to force concessions. He is not a Paladin, and there are legitimate arguments for it.


    "Thus, the second option, you can use it to blackmail-"


    "Absolutely not," said William. "I am no criminal nor assassin."


    "Thank you," said Felix. "If you''d let me finish that sentence, my respect for you would end. Paladins must be held to a higher standard."


    William shuddered. "I might use it if all of Antion would collapse if I did not. But Cirithil isn''t necessary for anything.


    "So, what is the third option?"


    "Give it to King Faras," said Felix.


    "Why him?" asked William. "What can he do?"


    "Nothing," said Felix. "But he has a considerable power base here. And with the chaos in this place, he might gain influence in Antion. Certainly, he will want a representative eventually.


    "So, if King Faras were to bring the matter up when he arrives, all you would have to do is support him. All of this would be done using his resources, and House Gabriel would not be making a power play at all.


    "Just... opening the door that justice might be done. Certainly, this particular stunt has injured King Faras much more than us. Our hatred for him is largely on principle, and if you got the support of Queen Dawn and other nobles..."


    "We can give the elves justice for what was done," said William. "And at the same time, we can get rid of Cirithil and the worst of the nation. That will also make it easier to end the constant bloodbaths.


    "Our revenge is their revenge."


    "But first, we have to find King Faras and get him to listen to us," said Felix. "Which is the hard part. You were right to trust in Jehair; if we''d gone to some other guide as I suggested, we''d stand no chance.


    "She''s led us to exactly where we need to be."


    "Don''t tempt fate any further," said William. "Rioletta might look to get involved." The Spider Queen was known for being vindictive.


    "As if all this wasn''t confusing enough," said Felix. "We''d probably already been noticed. So when we head in there, we''ll either be dead, imprisoned, or have our meeting."


    "Being thrown in prison might be a relief," muttered William, looking at the cold stone. "When Arraxia threw me in a cell it was just as uncomfortable. The only difference now is I''m stuck here by choice."


    Soon enough, Jehair came back, and William turned to see her, scythe in hand. Coming forward, she halted as she saw them, shifting her hips as she did so. Her hair looked blonder than before. "Well, I''ve returned.


    "How goes your examination of records?"


    "Unpleasant," said William in disgust. He handed it to her, and she read it. "I assume you knew of all this."


    "There is a difference between knowing and knowing," said Jehair. "My word was not trusted for years. By the time it was, I had long since ceased to care about these people. I don''t ask questions about my clients; I only help them wherever they are going.


    "In this case, Antion has been going to a horrific, nasty end for years. Although I admit, you''ve probably bought it another decade. But I couldn''t have proved any of this, and if I could, I''d have been murdered. I never had the inclination until now."


    "Until it is too late?" asked Felix.


    "Frankly, yes," said Jehair. "Other people lived here before the Harlenorians or even the elves. Others will after we are long dead. When a civilization grows decadent, it is either destroyed or dies by its own hand.


    "The weak are purged; things get bad for some and good for others. Many good people would be much better off with Antion sinking into the sea, just as many good people would have their lives destroyed.


    "My charges are the woods and trees, the birds and the beasts.


    "Someone has to take care of the flowers. Although I admit, your actions have made me come as close to believing in humanity as I ever have. When this life is over, and my mind is reformed I hope to have a gentler disposition."


    That was right; elves reincarnated mentally instead of physically. Every forty to a hundred years, they became a different version of themselves. It was how romances between humans and elves worked.


    It was a summary that would have to suffice.


    "Do you think it''ll be of use?" asked Jehair, curious.


    "To me?" asked William. "No.


    "House Gabriel can''t throw this kind of information around. It would set a dangerous precedent. But, on the other hand, if King Faras were to get his hands on it.


    "I think he could do some real damage to these people."


    "I do not think Faras has that much credibility," said Jehair.


    "Happily, we are in a crisis," said William reciting what Felix told him. "Father has always told me that a crisis is an ideal time to advance and grow in power. King Faras has a real opportunity here. And I have a real opportunity to strike at Cirithil if he will help me.


    "I need the old elven Kingdoms," William said it and realized what he was saying. It was revoking much of what he had previously believed.


    No, Anoa the Bright lived in a different time. In those days, the elves had become tyrants. But just because they had been tyrants didn''t mean they would be now. And it would be better to give them back some of their pride and dignity than let Cirithil use it.


    Had they been at war, perhaps it would be better. But now everything was falling apart.


    "What?" said Jehair.


    William remembered what he''d read, the positive bits. He thought of the old ruins that you could see here or there abandoned. Great, elegant structures, towering proudly that were once higher. The memory came to him now of stories of flights of dragons flying to war. Of ancient realms of fantasy like nothing, he had imagined.


    It was the world Anoa had ended. Yet though it had been better for humanity then, surely revisiting it would be better than this filth. "The Elven Kingdoms have a long and glorious history.


    "They outfought virtually every other race for many ages; they rode horses and wore rumor. They were centers of knowledge when all other civilizations fell apart. Their power of magic was immense.


    "If memory of that history were reawakened and this place restored to old glory...


    "It could be enough to destroy some of the worst aspects of Harlenor. That would give the elves some long-awaited vengeance and help both of us.


    "What of your plans?"


    "Negotiations have gone very well," said Jehair. "The druids have been willing to recognize the gnoll villages, which is a triumph for the Wood Elves too. I have also learned the source of the plague of rats. It appears that many of the border villages had begun felling trees in the marsh. All against certain agreements. In response, King Faras of the Wood Elves called the rats from all over to trouble them.


    "Faras is not fond of humans.


    "Either way, some of the satyrs are whispering. I fear they may seek blood soon enough, in one way or another. And several villages in Antion have been burned, and their crops are stolen. There''s fighting all along the border, and the satyrs seem to be having the better time of it."


    "Is Luke Atravain doing well?" asked William.


    "He apparently has had several skirmishes and fought well," said Jehair. "Saul has been making connections. I have sent birds to observe them and the orders seem to be on level.


    "No one is going to get full credit, and that is how it should be. Apparently, Ham Hawkthorne has been planning the route with Reginald and Varsus. However, both are far ahead of us by now. Assuming we can arrange finances with Adrian Wrynncurth, it should go well."


    "King Faras could potentially aid or thwart the journey," said Felix. "He is near the King''s Road, which will be impossible to move through."


    "Actually, that is not a problem," said Jehair. "Most of the nobility want the bandit problem solved. So each one has agreed to waive the fee for a certain number of men.


    "They will make their own judgments on who they allow.


    "And they reserve the right to investigate them. But, other than that, they can go on through."


    "That system could be abused," said Felix. "It would be well to have some means of compelling an honest process."


    "Thus why the route must be planned," said Jehair. "I never thought that so elaborate a conspiracy would be necessary to walk to Gel Carn."


    "We''ve been in one since Seathorius," said William. "What kind of security is underway?"


    "The Paladin Order will be protecting those who make the journey," said Jehair. "Once it begins. Dunmoore and Suran have volunteered with Farwa. They have checked the raids by satyrs as well as arrested a number of known corrupt officials.


    "Those men, however, we found hanging in prison cells before they could be interrogated. Investigations are ongoing. It seems that Isriath gave them some good advice, or else they have sources I do not. The armies are mobilizing to meet them. King Andoa had personally defeated several raiding parties.


    "The High Priest has also been organizing some relief efforts, at last. I gather he is saving face."


    "Are they any good?" asked William.


    "The nobility plan to send armed men to oversee them," said Jehair. "Cirithil tried to steal from them. And the ones with principles are already furious. Chun Xi has turned on him.


    "There isn''t a single brothel or tavern that will take his money now. Or the money of his priests. He''s lost a lot of his coin, and I expect his criminal associates are becoming nervous. This is the last opportunity to salvage his credibility, and if he doesn''t do it, he''s a dead man.


    "No matter what his rank, he knows too much.


    "Needless to say, he is doing a good job and making passionate speeches. He''ll get exactly the same reaction from the populace he always did. It seems to enrage him especially."


    "So," said William. "He''s now become celibate, virtuous, and compassionate at swordpoint. And he has to see people treat him exactly the same way.


    "And if ever stops, he''ll die."


    "Yes," said Jehair. "As far as ironic hells go, I find this one quite interesting."


    "Well, I''m not going to give him any points for doing what he should have been doing from the start," said William. "Besides, he was forced into it. And I think we both know he''ll just sell his principles up the river once he''s safe."


    "I agree with William in this," said Felix. "Our plans should remain unchanged.


    "His life ought to be forfeit by now. All of this is just helping to partially mend what he broke."


    "What if he does atone?" asked Jehair.


    "Then we''ll adjust our plans," said William. "I am sure Elranor can provide us with guidance.


    "What about Tavish?"


    "No word beyond what I have already told you," said Jehair.


    "And prayers?" asked Felix.


    "There has been an increase in prayers to Elranor and the gods, yes," said Jehair. "Even to some of those we''ve inconvenienced."


    "Well, that is as good news as we can hope for," said William. "Perhaps I should attend the discussions?"


    "I am... unsure that would be wise," said Jehair. "The Druids of Laevian, it seems, are not overly fond of you."


    "Why not?" asked William.


    "You have been healing diseases, many diseases," said Jehair. "They have long regarded pandemics as a means Laevian uses to strengthen species, which is more or less true. It also checks your people''s population.


    "Some view your actions as perverting nature.


    "There has never been a Paladin as obsessed with healing as you. I do not think your presence would be helpful."


    "All the more reason to at least be present," said William. "I must know their views."


    Jehair nodded. "I see.


    "In that case, you should remain silent and allow me to speak. I do not think the elves of this place would like you. They did not recover the same way Qor''Dana did."


    "Then I defer to your judgment in this matter," said William.


    And they left in a hurry. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    William was looking forward to seeing these Wood Elves. Provided they weren''t shot dead before they saw anything. And he was looking even further forward to hanging Cirithil and killing Lamech.


    This would be fun.

 Chapter Twenty: Tyrasa

    They left behind the gnoll villages and went south, deeper into the woods. As they did, the brambles became very thick indeed. Thorns around them seemed to have grown to drive people away. Massacre ate well the entire time, and yet they were still slowed, no matter how many thorns she munched. Now and then, at night, they''d hear wild beasts trampling through the forest. They had several near encounters with pigs as well.


    But it was more than that. There was a kind of resentment in the air, this deep within the trees. The trees around them seemed to glare with hatred at their passing, and William kept his hand near a sword. Jehair did not have the same trouble in the forest, the roots did not grasp at her as much, or the dirt clung. In fact, dirt rarely clung to her, so it seemed the spirits accepted her.


    She was known in this place, just as she was known in all places.


    William and the others, as her companions, were barely tolerated.


    Suddenly one thorny branch caught hold of his cloak. Struggling to pull it off, he realized it would tear it apart. It was pulling even now, and more were around. Drawing out his sword, he cleaved the branch. Then another, and Felix did the same as they reached. Vines sought to scale up their feet, but they hacked them back. Wind howled through the woods, sounding like shrieking resentment. The branches swayed around, distorting it to make it sound like voices.


    "Call your creatures off," said William. "We seek no battle, but we will brook no assault."


    Then, sensing something, he whirled around and saw an arrowhead moving upward. Bringing about his sword, he put it to the throat of the one who did so. Another was at him, but Felix caught that one hostage. For a moment, William''s focus was completely on the swordpoint at the throat.


    Then he realized it was a girl.


    She had long, green hair tied up into a ponytail that reached behind her wide hips. The sides of her large breasts were covered only by a clinging, white garment. She was more than an equal to Jehair in that department, though her hips were not as wide. One that was adorned with white stones. Her skin was violet in the moonlight, and looking at her face, he saw that she was very fair indeed.


    So were a lot of people. The vines began to creep up his feet, and he knew he must act. Knocking the bow aside with his shield, he brought his sword down to slash the vines. Then he threw himself forward. Backing away beneath her onslaught, the woman danced away, her arrow loosed. His shield caught the arrow, then the arrow, then another, and her back was against the tree. Slashing aside two branches just in case, she drew two knives and rushed at him.


    Guessing she meant to exploit his slower speed, William ceded ground and turned aside. He guessed someone else would be coming at him, and he was correct. A blue-haired woman was at him with a long sword but was surprised by his swift response. Turning her strike, he disarmed her and turned to see his first enemy.


    She was rapidly attacking with her twin swords, and her strikes were aggressive. There was no such thing as a weak hit with a sword, not unless you were fighting a toddler. But her blows were of a flowing kind, trying to find openings. It seemed almost more like a dance than a fighting style, moving with fluid movements. William struggled to keep up as he withdrew past a beam of moonlight. His own blows were simple and meant to achieve results, to kill or incapacitate. William felt overmatched in speed as her green hair flowed. His strokes could not connect, and he feared cutting her down.


    Still, she was lacking in upper body strength, and he was wearing full armor. So the solution was obvious. William braced himself and allowed her swords to smash against his armor. He felt the impact hard on his helm and chest plate. The blows jarred her swords in her hands, and her eyes went wide. Obviously, she was not used to fighting armored opponents. So William bashed her in the chest with his shield. She swooned and fell backward to hit the ground hard, a little bruised but not seriously injured. Good, she was very beautiful.


    That slammed her away to crash to the ground, and he turned to her friend, who had a bow. Firing one arrow, then another, then another, William raised his shield. Firing arrows rapidly is a useful tactic. However, they had to be fired on a different course, and all three plunged into his shield.


    Calculating that the enemy would emerge in greater numbers, William looked to Felix. Felix nodded, then ran into the trees. The other elves, all of them women, went at him. Jehair was staring dumbstruck, trying to calm the woods.


    "Stop!" said Jehair. "These are friends!"


    Silence as William took that statement in and considered all that had happened.


    "Some friends," said William.


    "Surrender," said the woman, voice as harsh as nature.


    "You mean you wish to surrender to me?" asked William.


    "You are bold for your kind," said the woman. "But I am Tyrasa, Princess of the Wood Elves.


    "You are not welcome here, and you will submit to my Father''s judgment."


    "Don''t be absurd," said William. "I am an emissary from House Gabriel. You have attacked me without defiance sent and been thrashed for your trouble. You have no physical or moral basis for making any demands."


    "You attacked us," said Tyrasa, shifting her long shapely legs. William opted to admire how beautiful she was since one of them would be dead soon. "It is our custom to bind outsiders."


    "And it is our custom to assume those who point arrows at us are enemies," said William. "Let us each leave the other to their custom. And see who lives to tell about it."


    "William, stand down," said Jehair. "This is no time for a confrontation, child."


    "No, I will not," said William flatly. "If I am taken prisoner, I will consider it an act of war. I shall not submit to captivity without a battle."


    "You cannot enter this domain," said Tyrasa. "Save as a prisoner."


    "Then I will go back," said William. "And find other allies who will not treat me as inferior."


    "You cannot go back," said Tyrasa, motioning. "You have entered our domain and will go forward or remain forever."


    Out of the clearing came a number of well-armed women with more bows and very similar physiques. Were they related? There didn''t seem to be very many men among them. All were beautiful, but their bows had no strings. They were looking very awkward about it.


    "Princess Tyrasa," said one with blue hair. "All of our bowstrings have disappeared."


    "What?" said Tyrasa. "How is this possible?" Then she halted. "The thief."


    "Felix is no thief," said William. "He is a distinguished warrior and a loyal companion.


    "Drop your swords."


    "With respect," said Jehair quickly. "Perhaps we could put aside our weapons before we all kill eachother. A bloodbath would only drive a wedge between our peoples when what we need most is friendship."


    "I would say we are well past the point where friendship is possible," said Felix, reappearing. He put a bowstring around Tyrasa''s neck before she could move and pulled it taught. "If you wish her dead, by all means, continue your attack."


    Silence among them as the elven women looked at one another.


    William realized this might not be a good situation. Even if they killed Tyrasa, they would probably be killed by sheer numbers. And it could cause problems for Uncle even if they survived. It would certainly make his journey much harder, and it might alienate Jehair.


    His conscience was clear. But perhaps he should come down to their level.


    "If you throw down your weapons," said William. "I guarantee this will be the end of it. We shall dismiss this as a misunderstanding.


    "But a scion of House Gabriel cannot submit to captivity. And if a battle here continues, many will die who do not need to."


    Silence continued.


    "Don''t do it!" said Tyrasa. "This outsider must not be allowed to triumph over us!"


    "Just do it, Tyrasa," said Jehair. "They are here to help, and you did attack. I will side with you if they make any move against you after you disarm. You have my word.


    "And you can snatch up your weapons easily enough anyway."


    Silence for a moment.


    "Do as he says," said Tyrasa. "Jehair can be trusted."


    And the weapons were set down carefully as the women kneeled crosslegged before them. Tyrasa was released and stepped forward, retrieving her weapons as quickly as possible. William stared a moment incredulously before Felix released the bowstring from Tyrasa''s neck. The elven women stepped forward, trying to look proud and defiant. She only succeeded in looking sensual, and Jehair was a match in that regard all the time.


    "Why exactly did you do this?" asked William, thinking the whole affair ridiculous.


    "It is standard procedure," said Tyrasa. "To deter outsiders from making repeat trips.


    "Nobody has ever done that before. So why would the spirits help you win?"


    "They didn''t," said William, looking to the woods, which seemed even more ill-tempered than before. No doubt annoyed, the outsider had thrashed their response. "What exactly did you expect to happen?"


    Tyrasa went still. "You know nothing outsider.


    "You could not possibly understand our designs." William found this response cute at best. Insulting at worst, he wasn''t sure which to settle on. He descended on appreciative condescension if only to spare his own dignity.


    Jehair paused and looked around. "I would guess that we were meant to be immobilized by the vines. Once that happened, they would come forward and gloat. Then you would be taken to prison and allowed to make your case.


    "A way of showing that you had no power here.


    "Such tactics were utilized in Qor''Dana, after the evacuation when things got very grim. However, they did not see nearly as much traffic as this place could. I expect they would have ordinarily shot you.


    "But they must have observed our discussions and decided to allow a meeting."


    Tyrasa halted, and William knew she really had. The way she was looking away and adjusting her hair showed. That was the stupidest plan he had ever heard in his life. "You mean to say that this ambush was an elaborate means of showing your skill as archers and woodsmen?"


    "...Yes," said Tyrasa.


    "Did you ever consider just holding an archery contest!" shouted Felix in anger. "Do you have any idea how much damage you''ve done with this stupid display? We''ve had to hack up all these trees because you wanted to show how dangerous the woods were.


    "We could have killed every single one of you and walked out. And if you''d killed us, William''s family live just north. And even if your plan worked, there''s no guarantee William wouldn''t be angry enough to come back with an army!"


    "It was to demonstrate the will of our people!" shouted Tyrasa. "You outsiders presume to run freely through our lands! We will show you the fury of the wood!"


    If Tyrasa had been alone against all the evil the world could muster, it might have been impressive. But, in practice, with her standing here against a few people, having been disarmed and outmaneuvered...


    "Well done," said William. The broken tree branches spoke for themselves.


    He wondered if he should suggest she retire and seek alternative employment. No, that would not be polite.


    "Enough," said Tyrasa quickly. "This facade of helplessness is of no further use!


    "Remove your mask, creature. I will not speak to one that hides their face." She''d forgotten that she was supposed to feign ignorance.


    William avoided laughing as he drew off his helm and let his halt fall around his shoulders. Tyrasa stepped back, looking at him in the moonlight. The others did as well, though some looked to Tyrasa, whose eyes were wide. "I am William Gabriel, milady. With me is Felix, a trusted companion, and Massacre, a servant of Typhos."


    That was on reflex.


    He''d forgotten that Massacre had gone out to eat thorns without consulting anyone. Now she came loping out of the trees, and the collections of wood elves stared. They murmured and marveled at her beauty. "Bah."


    "A servant of Typhos is always welcome among us," said Tyrasa. "Yet you bear the mark of Elranor, the cursed enemy of old." Was she really trying to salvage all this?


    William supposed he couldn''t blame her, so he humored her. "That may be so, but I bear you no ill will. Indeed, it is my desire to make recompense for previous errors on behalf of my Lady, Kiyora Yagos."


    "You serve the Dreaming Goddess?" asked Tyrasa, shifting.


    "Yes, for she saved me from captivity, and I have often fought battles in her name," said William. "On her behalf, I would offer what aid I can." He paused. "You are a good swordsman and excellent shots.


    "However, you did not use the environment to your advantage. Your attacks were predictable, and you allowed me to control the flow of battle."


    "I did not do these things for your approval," said Tyrasa, trying to sound detached and haughty. Instead, she just sounded like she was pouting. "And what aid would you offer? Will you resurrect our ancient civilization? Bring back all those who have died?"


    William sincerely doubted that she had been around for any of this. Or, indeed, been around for the really bad years of her people. Perhaps that was why she was so aggressive. She had inherited a realm of reasonable peace and stability. There were no means to prove herself, and the radical nature of her people restrained her.


    William used the opportunity to move forward as she stood her ground. "Such a deed is beyond my power, milady.


    "Yet if any within this place are injured, I may be able to help them."


    "Our forms are not so feeble as those of you mortals," said Tyrasa proudly. "For we are blessed with immunity to all but the most elaborate of ails. And whatever injuries we have shall be mended by healers of our own. We have not trusted the hands of Elranor''s chosen since the dark days."


    "I see," said William, feeling it impolite to say, ''I know.'' "Forgive me my ignorance, but I have not been taught much of your people, the Wood Elves. Are you related to the Dust Elves?"


    "We are of the same blood but not of the same kind," said Tyrasa. "In the strictest of terms, we are one people and race. But our ways are not the same, for we came to this land long ago from the domain of Valranor. In those happier days, all these woodlands were bright, and it was a land of eternal summer.


    "Before the coming of your kind into the world.


    "Now we are few and have dwindled further. Dark creatures creep into our domains from the south. Mortals presume to raise their hands against us. For a time, we sheltered those who the humans enslaved and taught them the ways of the woods.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Yet so many have come that we cannot account for them all.


    "Now, many have raised their hands against us." It was the attempt to appear grave and noble that really sabotaged it. Tyrasa was pretending to be a battle-hardened and cold-blooded warriors.


    The problem was that the Wood Elves had not been wiped out or continually persecuted. On the contrary, they had built their society around surviving. So when there was no great threat, they could do nothing. This was why they were losing control of the gnolls; they probably hadn''t needed to lead them in war.


    And without a war, the gnolls did not regard them as an authority.


    "You don''t seem to know very much about it," said William.


    "Shut up!" said Tyrasa. "Is it the custom of the men of Harlenor to make snide observations of royalty?!"


    "Woman," said William with a sigh. "I do not care if you are a goddess.


    "I came here as an emissary and was immediately assaulted by the most conceived ambush I have ever seen. All ranks are suspended until this surreal situation has ended."


    "You sent no word ahead," said Tyrasa, looking down and pouting.


    "How can I send word ahead when you ambush every single person who comes in here?!" asked William. "The general consensus is that you don''t want to talk to anyone. And no one wants to talk to you. Since no one has a good reason to invade this place, no one comes here.


    "So I assumed that since I was in the company of Jehair, I thought I might be given a chance to account. I might ask where precisely I would send my messenger. I know nothing of this land or your settlements by your own excellent design."


    "Stop it!" said another, the blue-haired one. "You''re ruining it!"


    Ruining what?


    "You have assistance that these humans can render?" asked Tyrasa, regaining a bit of composure. She was speaking to Jehair now.


    "Through them, yes," said Jehair with closed eyes. "William has a talent for negotiating with satyrs. He comes from a clan of humans that prefers negotiation to war. Indeed, he has recently returned the Goldenwood Harp to Alchara, asking nothing. Only that the Dreaming Goddess be freed from an obligation she did not desire."


    "I see," said Tyrasa, pausing. "I begin to see why the spirits clouded our eyes.


    "News of the recovery came to us, but we had heard nothing of his part in it. If what you say is true, then he may be among those who could redeem his race. But what service can you offer us now?"


    "For now, we have replaced the leadership of the gnolls to your benefit," said William.


    "We have met their emissaries," said Tyrasa. "The one you now call High Priest once came to us. We allowed him in, and he learned of us and our ways and parted amicably.


    "It was hoped he might make a good druid for his people. For often, those sent to us by Laevian learn their ways. But he never returned, and Tavish Kern has come to this place since. We knew you to be an enemy of him.


    "Many of your kind have already entered our domain unbidden, and we have intercepted each one. However, the gnolls we have taught as children are led astray by them."


    "Tyrasa, such an uncompromising policy will lead to war," said the blue-haired one, coming forward.


    "Then let there be war," said Tyrasa. "We stand ready to give our lives blood, to fight to the last and slaughter each one in kind."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "And who are you to speak of all things?" asked Tyrasa.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "What makes you believe that Typhos has any power to aid us?" asked Tyrasa.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Temples?" asked Tyrasa. "I see.


    "Then it seems we have reason to consider some part of our vendetta with humanity repaid. Yet it is only a small part, and it changes nothing. We must stand here or fall forever."


    "By your leave, Princess Tyrasa, I would ask that you find an alternative," said William. Right now, he was wishing he was back home for the first time. "Although I realize your anger toward outsiders is well-warranted. This course of action would lead to your death. It would be a grievous blow to the world if your people were wholly eradicated in a battle that could be avoided."


    They were certainly very beautiful.


    "And what do you suggest? That we submit to the savagery of the satyrs and gnolls," said Tyrasa, trying to sound like a bitter veteran.


    Why would her people want the young of their race to behave as a bitter old woman? Were they putting on airs?


    "No, rather I suggest that you channel the savagery of the gnolls," said Willam. "Find a mutual enemy who these gnolls can hunt and be hunted by. Then their aggressive power shall be set against your enemies.


    "And you may aid the other races."


    "Would you have us send them against your own kind?" asked Tyrasa surprised.


    "Not my kind, certainly. For I must see to my own race''s security, though we have harmed both of you greatly," said William. "Rather, you must bring them against enemies who are the friend to no one.


    "Bandits, perhaps, or the dark creatures you speak of."


    "I see," said Tyrasa, shifting her hips and walking past him to stand under a beam of moonlight. It would have made her look beautiful and mysterious if she weren''t so incompetent. "It is true that much foul undead prowls the lands of the accursed Withering King. Though he is gone now, driven out by King Andoa, Neral Dinis has replaced him. Though he makes no open war against our people, those who walk the wood''s southern edge are often preyed upon.


    "We had hoped to one day move against them. Yet our numbers have not increased enough, for we have not the fortune of the High Elves." Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Perhaps then, that day has come," said William.


    "William may be correct, Tyrasa," said Jehair quickly. "With the power of the satyrs, we might well hunt down many of the undead. If we could clear them away, it would cleanse the land of taint and make new lands for others to dwell."


    "My family holds dominion over the lands to the north, milady," said William. "Although we cannot strike Neral Dinis directly, we have much sway. There are many who have been dispossessed of their lands just as you were long ago.


    "They might aid you in this venture.


    "Without combined strength, we might seize such lands in your name. Provided only that a suitable cause of the war was found." Blackfear would have to have the undead population culled if they were to move people through it. Reports had shown traffic had become nearly impossible in the last decade. Only the High Priest''s agents could move through it unmolested by treaty with the undead.


    A relic of happier times when Cirithil''s predecessors had been beloved and trusted. Archbishop Alonsus had been renowned for his kindness and love of peace. He''d been a great friend to the poor and needy, and also King Andoa. Though Prince Bor had despised him, and they had feuded. King Andoa must have wept to know what was happening here.


    "No man dwells there now, so it would be good to see the wood expand again," said Tyrasa. "The undead''s presence has sapped the land of strength. The trees groan with anger at the mistreatment of the plants there.


    "For the feet of the undead stalk us.


    "We will eat within the main outpost here if you will follow us."


    "Of course," said William. He would be only too happy to put the matter behind him at this point.


    The blue-haired women produced blindfolds, never before used and very clean. They came forward toward them. "It is the custom that all outsiders go blindfolded."


    "I shall do no such thing," said William simply.


    "But I had to sew these by hand and keep them clean," said the woman. "Maybe as a personal favor-"


    "No," said William. "I need to be able to see this land to know how to best help you. And anyway, the trees obviously don''t like me. And I want to be able to see."


    "Fine," hissed the woman, taking them away. "But I hope you trip over the roots."


    "Felix," said William. "Return their bowstrings."


    "As you wish," said Felix.


    Felix spent the next few minutes handing them over.


    And so they walked unencumbered through the trees. It rapidly became apparent that the wood elves groomed themselves. But they did nothing to reign in the woods, save the very bare minimum. Perhaps it had been a good defensive strategy once, but it made moving inconvenient. Massacre ate well, though.


    However, one night, as William rested, he awoke to find a chill sense in the air. Standing up in the shelter he was in, he grasped his sword. Felix was on watch, and Jehair was gone. Looking down from the treetops, he saw in the darkness many shambling shapes. Low, unnatural snarls came from them as the scent of death came upward.


    They moved in vast numbers, trampling over roots. As they did, the ground beneath their feet deadened. Suddenly there was a horn call, and gnolls came out of the trees with spears. A spiked net was drawn across their path, then another to one side.


    Whatever they were, they tried to tear down the rope first to get at the gnolls. Yet before they could, arrows whistled down from above. Each one found a mark, and they fell by the dozens in moments. Yet more of them were streaming off and fanned out to hack at trees. Here they were met by the gnolls who stabbed and hacked with spears and axe, fending them off. Arrows fell from elsewhere. More came, only to be checked by more ropes, seemingly coming out of nowhere.


    Massacre was roaring and tearing about. So that soon there was a burst of fire here or there. The shapes departed that area, and other shadows followed. The night went silent, and Jehair clambered back on.


    "What happened?" asked William.


    "A large contingent of undead came into this domain," said Jehair. "We''re not sure how many.


    "The move was clumsy; however, had it come on us unawares, we may have faced serious issues. Your presence here threw the elves into alert, and it may well have saved lives."


    "I''m pleased to hear it," said William. Divine providence, perhaps? No doubt their complete failure in the previous ambush had taught them a thing or two. "Need we fear attack?"


    "I do not think we need be afraid until we reach Blackfear," said Jehair.


    At that moment, Tyrasa and Shai appeared, scaling up the tree like panthers. They had spent every arrow, it seemed, but they were pleased. "Victory is ours.


    "Our trap has worked."


    "Trap?" asked William.


    "We lifted the wards on the border that the undead might enter," said Tyrasa. "From there, we fell on them and destroyed them all. They are mindless creatures that hunt wherever they can. They saw only weakness, and we destroyed them all.


    "As you can see, we are quite proficient.


    "What do you think of our demonstration?" She smiled.


    "Very, very impressive," said William. "Surely, it was not made for my benefit, however."


    "Not yours," said Tyrasa proudly. "But those you speak to will know we are quite skilled at ambush. Indeed, I think I may use these tactics again. There is no sense in letting the dead grow too numerous.


    "We may well find a purpose beyond simple preservation."


    "What was this place like before?" asked William, gazing up at the leafy boughs.


    "When we arrived here," said Tyrasa. "My Father and Mother, that is, this place was being destroyed. Woodsmen under the reign of Anoa the Butcher were working at it. We managed to keep it alive and drive out men with axes, then later the undead.


    "We battled here for many centuries, gradually growing in number. Over time, the forests regrew, and we are entering the best part of the woods."


    All of what was said was born out.


    The corrupt influence of the undead was short-lived. By the time night passed, all of the bodies were gone. As if eaten by the woods, and flowers were growing in their place. The darkness gripped their feet was lightened, and the birds chirped more. William knew that if Tyrasa had decided to shoot him by stealth, they would all have been dead.


    The trees were indeed very large here and reached high. But the wilds here were untamed, and there was no rhyme or reason to it. William noticed that there were trees that had been shaped into dwells. Under the sun, it looked impressive, and he wondered how they were made.


    "Are there any more like this?" asked William.


    "We warp and change the trees as little as possible," said Tyrasa. "All our arrows are taken from the trees without hewing them. There are spells that we taught to Telix.


    "But he went south to Gel Carn and built himself a great fortress in the Wolven Forest. His ways are not ours."


    "Then why are they in such a bad mood?" asked Felix. "This is the largest forest I''ve ever seen. No one is checking their influence, and their neighbors dare not hew wood.


    There were other structures like this. The ground became wet and spongy, and they left structures in the treetops. Below, one could see the drab and untamed realm all around them. No axe or plow had hit any of these places for ages, and yet no one was happy.


    You could see many deer, however, and it seemed they used this place as a sanctuary.


    "Animals do not hunt within our sight," said Tyrasa. "It seems a custom."


    Laevian didn''t care.


    That was the problem. This realm had been created and deliberated to imitate Laevian''s own vision. Laevian did not care one whit; her love for this place was the same as her love for any place. Just because it fit the description of the sort of world she wanted, it meant nothing.


    Because Laevian didn''t care about the wood elves, she wasn''t even interested in them.


    "Do you worship Laevian?" asked William suddenly.


    "We go to her when we die," said Tyrasa. "But nature does not care about individuals. Save for a kind of balance."


    William didn''t say that he thought Laevian didn''t care about that either. "...What is special about this place?"


    "This grand structure was once but the merest of our outposts," said Tyrasa. "In the old days, the Wood Elves held dominion everywhere from here to Brisgald. Brisgald, where House Gabriel now has as its capital, was ours.


    "But with the coming of Anoa the Butcher, we were driven in. Village after village was put to the flame, and we were forced to flee. Yet no matter where we went, Anoa followed us until, at last, we came to this place. Anoa sent his men after us, but Laevian sent diseases to destroy them, and our ambushes killed many.


    "Here, we have held our ground since.


    "Our numbers have grown since then, if only a little. We number a little under a thousand in many scattered places. There is an abode of ours in the Black Marshes. And it is my task to ensure these woodlands remain defended."


    "Why did you accept slaves and gnolls?" asked William.


    "We saw victims of the humans and sought to aid them," said Tyrasa. "When they came, we chose to try and make use of them as best we could. It bolstered our numbers and was invaluable for a time. However, humans were only conveyed to other lands.


    "Humans tend to congregate and cannot be as easily melded to serve the wood."


    "Understandable," said William.


    They had nothing.


    These elves drank water and ate food meant to do as little damage as possible to the land. He saw it. Their homes were just woodland with no order save what was necessary for survival. Most of what they discussed was the land or the possibility of defiling it, if they talked at all.


    And yet this seemed a particularly merry meeting by their reaction.


    "What are your goals?" asked William. "What do you want out of life?"


    "...To preserve the woods," said Tyrasa thoughtfully.


    "But what else?" asked William. "What is it you want for yourself?"


    "We do not ask that question," said the blue-haired one. "We exist to serve the forest and preserve what remains."


    What could possibly be worth all this?


    "Show me what is left," said William.


    Tyrasa nodded.


    So they have led away, and William them talking more now. He asked them many questions, asking about people who came and went. One or two merchants had commonly come to this place now and then. However, none of them had ever ventured out of the woods except Tyrasa and her friend once.


    Her people, apparently, kept having women instead of men. This was to their liking since they did not want to overpopulate. The men were tasked with less interesting supporting roles. All because they might be aggressive or fight for themselves. And they were forbidden to fight.


    Marriages were arranged based on which people demonstrated favorable traits and were forbidden otherwise. No one was allowed to associate with outsiders. Doing so risked turning them against nature. Sex outside of marriage was allowed, so long as it was between the same gender and spouses did not stay together.


    In fact, continuing a relationship with a spouse or your child was discouraged. Shai did not even know her Mother or Father, though Shai suspected the identity.


    "So," said William. "Would you consider it a good thing if humans began to live as you do?"


    "That will not happen," said Tyrasa, surprised.


    "But would it be a good thing," said William.


    "Of course," said Tyrasa.


    "What would you do if the entire world began to believe your philosophy?" asked William.


    This seemed to disturb them.


    "Live at peace with nature," said the blue-haired one at last. No one had mentioned her name.


    "But you are not at peace with nature," said William. "You alter it to continue your way of life. You seem to regard your purpose as protecting it from those who distort it even more.


    "Is the purpose of life to end?"


    Silence.


    "No more questions," said Tyrasa. "Our work is necessary. Without it, all would perish, including those we fight."


    It was a good answer. Not perfect, but still a good one.


    At last, they came to a great fortress, and it stood above them. It must have once been greater still, and the narrow, elegant spires were breathtaking. Vines had grown up over it, but there seemed to be a kind of order to it. As if in respect. Yet all this could not hide the fact that the stones had fallen. A broken tower and many walls was crumbling, and parts of it had been eroded by rain.


    It was a sad sight, and they would not permit him to walk this.


    "This building must have been great to have withstood the ages for so long. How have you maintained it?" asked William.


    "We have had difficulty doing so," said Tyrasa. "The wood has done much to aid us in this. Much knowledge was lost, and new construction has replaced old. It proves now a poor substitute for what we once had.


    "Yet, it is our lot to preserve what once was for the sake of what could be."


    "Would it not be better to restore it to what it once was?" asked William.


    "I do not think it possible," said Tyrasa. "Much of our old arts are lost; the stone mines from which the earth once gave willingly are gone. Now the dwarves draw from them."


    William thought about his old adventures. Then he remembered the stonemason Vensus who dwelled in Antion. He was immensely talented and knew much about architecture. "Even so, Princess Tyrasa, I may know one who could be of service to you in that regard."


    "Who?" asked Tyrasa.


    "His name is Vensus; he is a master architect of the High Elves," said William. He was looking at the magnificent fortress. "Indeed, he was found worthy of building a temple to Typhos and the Dreaming Goddess. It was one that I was instructed to build, but I do not have his skill.


    "So I made arrangements for truly elvish stonework to be put in place."


    Tyrasa looked to the others, who nodded. "We have no money to pay such architects."


    "That may be so, but House Gabriel has vast reserves," said William. "We have become very rich in trade, and we seek now to improve the land."


    "You would have us in your debt, human?" asked Tyrasa, raising an eyebrow.


    "Not at all," said William, thinking of all the atrocities that had torn the world down. It had taken a long time to get to this reasonably peaceful era. "We would still be in your debt. If we could restore some of the life and beauty that we took away from you, it would be more than compensation. In truth, my Father has an immense fortune, and accumulating too much wealth could be a problem.


    "If we might spend some of it on a worthy cause, it would be better than many other uses."


    "It would," said Tyrasa.


    "Of course, I can promise nothing until I have spoken to my Father, the Duke," said William. "But I think we could see some of the glory of this place restored if all goes well."


    Tyrasa looked at the others, who seemed interested. "You speak kindly for a human. But I do not think the High Elves know the techniques."


    "Perhaps not," said William. "But, they might in time be rediscovered. Some gods remember those days. Perhaps Barden of the dwarves has a memory of it.


    "I do not believe there is any wound that can be healed, no matter how terrible. And there is much my people could gain by restoring what was lost to us."


    "You may be correct," said Tyrasa, nodding. "Very well, I shall speak to my Father of it when we arrive. Yet, for now, you should remain silent. I warn you that humans have seldom suffered to walk here. Therefore, you should speak only when spoken to, whatever your rank.


    "There are older and far more powerful sentinels about this place. And they will not be amused by you as we have been."


    "I shall do as you suggest, then," said William. "Milady."


    Tyrasa was surprised by the formality but nodded. Things were developing now. If this went well, he could destroy Cirithil once and for all.


    He just had to find the way.


    Still, was this journey never going to end? He wanted to meet King Faras, get this mess settled, and get to Gel Carn. Which would require going through Blackfear and the domain of Lord Tarsus.


    William prayed for an uneventful journey through both.


    That was not going to happen.

 Chapter Twenty-One: House Kern

    Some time had passed.


    Tanith wasn''t sure how much. Several skirmishes followed, with much drilling and ambushing. Once, she and Edward did battle, and she was cast down, but Sokar drove him off. So soon, the conflict dragged out, and prisoners were released.


    On and on it went; Anborn returned with armed men from Father. These soon formed the main backbone to hold advances. Edward''s men assailed them three times and were pushed back from the river. And three times they assailed in turn until the third time, Tanith led a small force over the water.


    As they walked, Tanith saw the snow melting little by little. Soon Kern''s forces would be able to come and go freely. Reinforcements would come from King Gavin, and so Tanith would go. Walking over the rocky dirt, she noticed something with pleasure. Granaries and houses had been left untouched. Only soldiers were targeted in the fighting, and the body count had dropped.


    "Are you sure about this?" asked Kata, eyeing the fortress of Kern. They crouched now behind some stones. You could see a well-ordered village, with a water mill not in use and well-made structures. New inventions, comparatively speaking. "You''ll have to go within an arrow shot of House Kern. Why not wait for us to start the siege?" Kata had proven to have a knack for the land, able to maneuver them about.


    "That''ll be far more dangerous," said Tanith. "By then, they''ll have everybody up in arms. And there might not be a siege. Things are settling down now."


    "Let me go with you," said Anborn. "I can help you."


    "No, Anborn, you need to stay here," said Tanith. "Father can''t lose both his children, and you don''t have a knack for negotiation."


    "But Tanith, I know this territory," said Anborn. "There are people I''ve made contact with who could help us, and I know how to avoid tolls. I used to do it all the time, back when I was trying to be a bard, even if I lost my harp.


    "I''ll be of more help to you there anyway."


    "I agree," said Kata, an edge in his tone. No one had forgiven Anborn or forgotten. His numerous kills had given him the status of a tolerated nuisance. Which was the place where his journey had started.


    Tanith nodded. "Alright, but I don''t want you in the fighting.


    "Someone has to help Sunthred."


    "Tanith, be careful," said Kata.


    "Who the hell do you think I am?" asked Tanith with a laugh.


    Then they set out, her and Anborn.


    And the moment they left the stones behind, Tanith remembered his earlier actions. The memory of that time she''d overheard his companions talking of his fleeing came to her. What affection she''d had for him now turned to anger.


    "Wow, um, I guess we''re on the road on an adventure together, huh," said Anborn.


    "Certainly seems that way," said Tanith, trying to be cordial.


    "Maybe we can use this as a chance to," began Anborn, looking more like his old self.


    "Let''s just keep moving, alright," said Tanith. "And don''t introduce us; let me do the talking."


    "So, um, maybe we could talk to Lord Kern- " began Anborn.


    "No," said Tanith.


    "But Tanith, if we can talk to him, maybe we can sort all this out?" said Anborn. "I don''t like killing people. Nobody else does either."


    Tanith turned on him and felt the urge to strike him. It was resisted, but she felt utter disgust and tried to hide it. "Or he''ll take us prisoner.


    "I want to get a messenger through to the King and explain the situation. If I can ask King Gavin to mediate, the problem solves itself."


    "Lord Kern wouldn''t do that," said Anborn. "I spoke with him once; he''s a really wise and powerful sorcerer. I know he''s... well... come under bad influences. But he''s always polite to everyone."


    Tanith should have known Anborn wouldn''t have shaken off his delusions. Whatever, time to explain things to the child that wouldn''t just die.


    "Yes, which is why I''m avoiding him," said Tanith. "He''s a wise and powerful sorcerer who is our enemy. I don''t want to go within five steps of him. And anyway, I think that by now, he is in the domain of Father.


    "We can come back after we speak with King Gavin." Anborn was an idiot and of no real use in this venture. And his crimes were terrible; if he''d acted earlier, this never would have happened.


    "Right, sure, okay," said Anborn.


    "Follow me then; we''ll want to go up into the hills," said Tanith. "The villages there are mostly under the management of Edward."


    "Isn''t that the last place you''d want to go, then?" asked Anborn. "Why do you hate Edward so much?"


    "Because he hates the nation that gave him everything," said Tanith. "And I want him to suffer."


    "...I''m not going to be able to come back here," realized Anborn. "They used to like my harping. Now I''ve killed their men."


    "What of it?" asked Tanith, now feeling annoyed. "You accepted a position selling Furbearers into slavery without consulting Father. What did you think would happen?" She found herself vaguely interested. "What did Father say anyway?"


    "He wouldn''t see me," said Anborn. "Just spoke to me by messenger and told me to help you."


    "It''s no more than you deserve," Tanith sighed. "Why slavery?"


    "Well, Tavish is my friend," said Anborn, pausing. "And slavery isn''t wrong. Everyone agrees that enslaving our enemies is part of the war. The Furbearers were encroaching. I mean, I guess it''s unfortunate, but Lord Kern was going to do it anyway.


    "And Father has always said that politics is not personal. So my friend, Tayuya, said it would be a good opportunity to prove myself. Have you met Halish? She''s really nice? And she''s an amazing shot with a bow."


    "One of the redheads?" asked Tanith.


    "Well, I guess she does have red hair, and she is really pretty," said Anborn. "Though Red Safara does as well. She actually agreed with Halish when I asked her after meeting William. She''s this really tough warrior lady who worships a snake goddess.


    "And she''s from-"


    "I don''t care about your childish crushes, Anborn," said Tanith. "I don''t know who this Tayuya is. But she''s obviously manipulating you for her own ends.


    "Probably a plant set by Tavish to push you in the right direction."


    "She''s my friend," said Anborn.


    "Why would any woman want you?" asked Tanith incredulously. "You barely qualify as a man.


    "And that''s after you got your spear bloody."


    Anborn looked downcast. "You never treated William this way."


    "Because William was fourteen when he acted like this," said Tanith. "He has a weak phase and got over it. You''re starting late, so you''ve got a long way to go before you''ve got my respect."


    "Why?" asked Anborn. "I was trying to help the family by taking that job. I know I''m not as smart as you, but...


    "You don''t think slavery is wrong, do you? Not even Atria does."


    "Atria?" said Tanith. "What of her?"


    "The slavegirl you brought in," said Anborn. "You were in love with her.


    "Um, she was always nice to me."


    "I kidnapped her because I wanted a living reminder that I defaced Baltoth''s temples. I had my way with his priestesses and killed his people," said Tanith. "She''s a token of my victory and however much I boast. Though I''ll admit, she''s quite proficient at letters. At least if Mother''s stories are any indication.


    "I just brag about it because it gives me an excuse to tell war stories."


    Anborn halted and didn''t seem to understand. "So... why keep her?"


    "Maybe she''ll make a good hostage. Let''s just keep moving," said Tanith. She didn''t really know the answer herself. "Oh, and one more thing.


    "Don''t have anything more to do with these redheads. They don''t like you for you; they advise you to betray your family and work with criminals. No secret meeting, no letters exchanged. Cut them off until Father says otherwise."


    "But-" began Anborn. He halted. "Was it really a betrayal?"


    "Yes," said Tanith, not in the mood to mince words. "You cut a deal that could alienate our strongest allies without consulting anyone. You allowed these people to isolate you from your advisors and then take sides with Lord Kern. And this Tayuya and Red Safara?


    "They convinced you to do it. They convinced you to betray your family.


    "You should never have gone into that room with Rius without someone a lot smarter than me. And not bringing me in was beyond idiotic.


    "These friends of yours aren''t your friends. They are spies. You''ve got to make a clean break, or they''ll drag you back in. Do you want to go to hell, Anborn? You''re heading there right now."


    "I understand," said Anborn. "...I won''t see them anymore."


    "Then it''s a start," said Tanith. "And apologize to Father when you see him. You broke his heart. Mother''s as well."


    The journey toward the fortress of Kern got more difficult as they went. They had to dodge patrols along the roads. It seemed that Kern had put his troops out the watch for raids. Anborn turned out to know many good hiding spots. And he was able to outmaneuver several patrols, which was passable. It was interesting to Tanith that she was so completely unable to forgive him.


    She could only assume it was by divine will.


    But, at last, they reached the pass of fallen stones. Tanith prepared to head in, noticing a good place to scale the wall. When House Gabriel had first come to this place under Erik the Voyager, House Kern had been nearly as weak. Carn Gable had been given to Erik, and House Telus had made good relations. Together they had worked to rebuild Haldren and battled Viokin raiders and Calishans.


    Kern was awarded status as the most trusted servant of King Gavin. Yet Erik the Voyager was awarded no prize. And when he died, his legacy for all his heroics was that his house survived. The old Duke, Garath Gabriel, had spent his days serving and establishing credibility. Promises of fame and riches were given by Kern and others, and not one was fulfilled.


    Not one.


    By the time Garath died, House Gabriel had only become a library. At the same time, prize after the prize was delivered to Kern, the conceited bastards. House Telus had become rich. Some discussion was made of returning Gel Carn to another Lord who served him better. They were allowed to keep it out of pity. A marriage was set up with Mara Hawkthorne, a whore daughter of an honorless house. All to ensure poor Vanion Gabriel wasn''t left without a home.


    And the promises continued.


    And then Vanion made the promises come true. Duke Vanion, a man of unsurpassed will and power, forced the Gods to give him his due. When others were awarded positions he was owed, he achieved glory even as he discredited them. His machinations destroyed his enemies. The destiny that had been denied him was taken by revenge after revenge.


    All the broken promises were repaired in blood and humiliation in rivers. And those who did not heed his words paid the price.


    And now this magnificent chessmaster. This Prince, who wore the form of a noble, was going to be King of Antion. William would be a Prince in his own right. And these ungrateful wretches who dared oppose him would be but footman. Stupid servants who, in their avarice, had sought to cheat the true King from his inheritance.


    But they would be stripped of everything and thrown out onto the street. And Tanith now was the piece that would begin the game.


    "Anborn," said Tanith. "Go and find your friends.


    "See if you can get someone to Kata and tell her what is happening here. And compile a report on the economic situation here. Then, send it to Father and say nothing of it to Lord Kern."


    "Um... numbers aren''t my strong suit," said Anborn.


    "I''m not asking for numbers," said Tanith. "I need you to get Father an economic analysis of how things are going here. Travel around a bit, and figure out how the land operates. It''s the sort of thing he''d want to know before signing me off. And it could stop this whole thing.


    "How are the people? Are they well-fed? How do trade networks connect? You know how to talk to people. All that could help House Gabriel.


    "Go, quick."


    "Right, sorry, sis," said Anborn.


    And he rushed off.


    "Idiot," hissed Tanith, feeling a seething hatred return.


    Tanith knew that yarn was a very popular product and rope as well. House Kern controlled ports along the eastern shore. Many of their products competed with the Furbearers. It was largely a matter of preference. However, they also made great profits from their pottery. Mother had a number of vases at home made by great potters like Richard Estious and Algious Waldman.


    Names she had heard but knew little of, saving that they were pretty good at what they did.


    Tanith realized she felt no affection or warmth for Anborn. Far less, in fact. Either way, some part of her said there was no point in going to King Gavin; Kern was the real person she had to talk to.


    Standing up as before, she drew her swords and walked toward the gates. As she did, many guards surrounded her but dared not approach. Nearing the gates, she saw Edward standing with sword and shield in hand. The guards parted, and Edward came forward. "Tanith Telus, you''ve taught me a great deal about religion."


    "Do not mock the Lord Elranor, or I will not settle for slaying you in turn," said Tanith. "For I shall leave your corpse eyeless to be feasted on by the birds. All while the corpses of your family lie before your still spasming corpse.


    "Your fields shall be put flame while your servants taken as slaves. Your bloodlines are erased; you''re stricken from history save as a nameless shame. You dare to speak to me, traitor to your race and the curse upon the womb that bore you?


    "I am the daughter of a mighty Lord and a personal friend of William Gabriel. I have burned vast stretches of Calishan territory and fought in full-scale battles.


    "I don''t have time to give you the proper instruction on how to use that sword.


    "And you are nothing."


    "But milady, how will you eat when every field has been burned?" asked Edward.


    "All I have to do is reduce the surplus population through violence," said Tanith. "Starting with you."


    "Perhaps you should consider what exactly the surplus population is," said Edward. "Perhaps Elranor regards you as less worthy of life than those you slay for the sake of mirth?"


    "And yet, you are merely an engineer, and William is a Paladin. I wonder what that says about you," noted Tanith.


    "It might also say much about the god you attribute your atrocities to," said Edward.


    Murmurs of anger and approval mixed.


    "Draw steel, you witless worm, and I''ll give you one!" said Tanith, drawing her blades.


    "Worms perform an important function in the dirt," said Edward, readying. "Do you?"


    Blade clashed with a blade as his shield warded off a strike. Their weapons moved in a dance, parrying and thrusting as they circled.


    "I might just as easily ask what function life has?" asked Edward.


    "We are Harlenorians! We are heirs to a glorious legacy of blood and struggle!" said Tanith, smiting the shield so that it cracked. "The perpetuates of a heroic cycle older than the stars themselves! We fear neither death nor pain and are as stern to inflict as we are stubborn to endure!


    "The world is a fleeting dream! The universe is hell! Yet we fight on in defiance! Our enemies are cast down by cunning and steel! The weak are purged, and those who are strong are rewarded!"


    "And what of those who cannot defend themselves?" said Edward, warded off several blows. One strike rang off Tanith''s shoulder and sent her staggering to one knee. "The farmers and craftsman? Those who do the tasks that make this nation work?"


    "If you cannot defend yourself, you are not Harlenorian!" said Tanith, striking at his legs to drive him back. "The militia system is the guiding principle upon which Harlenor is based! All must be able to defend themselves against abuses of power! To do otherwise is to invite slavery!


    "Farmers and craftsman are not weak by nature, nor are merchants. On the contrary, they have skills and power in their own fashion, worthy of praise. But all of these are only useful with the power to defend themselves!


    "Look there, Edward Kern, look at what you have done!"


    And she turned to motion across the lands where many fields had been trampled by blood and war. Several farms had been abandoned, and both knew the corpses. The farmers now walked armed.


    "This is your doing," said Edward, attacking again. "You escalated the situation when things were quieting and led a raid! So now the land is torn by war!"


    "It was not by my hand that the King of the Furbearers was treated as a petulant child!" said Tanith, turning his blade and disarming it. "Your condescension bit their pride more than any curse!" Another blow cracked the shield. "For you made it clear that even among their allies, they were not respected!


    "The choice was between slavery and war! And so we chose war!"


    With a final blow, Edward''s shield was broken. Yet he threw himself to the dirt to snatch his sword where it lay. Then, turning, he struck at her from low, and Tanith leaped back, flourishing her blades as he came at her.


    "Such has been our choices throughout history," said Edward, sword halted.


    "And a glorious and brilliant history it is indeed!" said Tanith, attacking in wild joy. "An epoch of mighty deeds and invention, lovers and infidels, battles and tragedies! Ours is the path of a warrior race of knights, destined to rule for a day and die in glorious battle!"


    "Your day will be short indeed, you who worship death as a friend," said Edward. "And you are no knight but a berserker." He was driven back beneath a flurry of blows as one landed on his shoulder, pauldron, knocking him to the ground.


    "Your words have the strength of your shield," said Tanith. "It is by death and healing that all you possess has been given. By the labor of those ancestors you scorn, you may do what you have done.


    If you had prayed for Elranor for guidance instead of scorning him, you might have been shown the way! If you had opened your mind for even an instant, you might know what it means to be Harlenorian!


    "Instead, you remain in your high library, looking out from windows, and come out only when the fancy takes you!" She got him in the leg.


    "Earth, water, fire, air..." said Edward, halting the onslaught and striking back. "The human body can be recreated from these four base elements. The result is the same whether we are made from clay or iron. Our physical forms can be easily reconstructed, provided you are powerful enough. Yet the Gods cannot create souls.


    "Those come by means we do not understand from dimensions we cannot conceive of. And those who are closest to the gods pay the price."


    "It is the price of glory, fool!" said Tanith. And her sword slammed against his foot, shoulder, and side. His armor saved him, but he fell back. "What is a simple lot, if not a mediocre descent from one mundane and pathetic pleasure! All to end as a boring corpse in a tedious coffin!


    "It is through the slaughter of our enemies that we gain our salvation! Though the battle against impossible odds! To fall in battle, a blade in hand as your enemies cower in fear and your comrades escape to complete your work! Such is the glory of a Harlenor!


    "Such is the glory of House Telus!


    "What is your glory save chains and defiled straw?!"


    "You are mad, woman," said Edward, on one knee and trying to fend her off. His hair was filthy, and he was bleeding from the lip. "You regard the world as an eternal war to be waged for your own pleasure. But what of those you have slaughtered without regard to cost? I choose the life of a builder, a provider, who gains respect for his deeds and good nature.


    "I choose to be different from those who came before. Just as you are different, far worse than Anoa the Butcher himself!" Murmurs of outright disapproval.


    "Your speeches are as empty as your heart, Edward," said Tanith, hitting him all the harder. "You who condemn your forefathers and everything they believed! You who fought out of self-righteous self-pity now speak of good nature! You scorn the Gods and yet expect to bear an aura of holiness!


    "Men such as you declare themselves just men yet are disappointed when they are dismissed. Shall you pray on a mountaintop that Elranor might appear?


    "Will you then sneer because he did not bare himself to your knife?!"


    "Elranor would understand my concerns if he is indeed so wise," said Edward. "And you, Tanith, has he ever appeared to you?"


    His next strike disarmed one of her swords, and he went at her before she could grasp it.


    "I don''t expect him to," said Tanith, now in a contest of strength. "I who have battled my whole life that his name might be feared have never expected him to speak to me. I know his will by the nation''s will, and my sword is directed where they will. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "William Gabriel is his champion, and I am his right hand."


    "You delude yourself. The amulet at your heart tells your true nature," said Edward, shoving her back as before. "Perhaps you would like to see the work of your true master!!"


    Tanith struck, but he raised a hand, and as her blade hit it, the sword rang off steel, though there was no armor. The sleeve was torn off, and she saw a hand of cruel steel.


    "Behold a steel hand of Fortenex, which my Father gained for me by great pain!" said Edward. "This is the result of your path, Tanith! I feel nothing on this arm, neither the warmth of the sun nor the breeze around me! Long I labored and studied, seeking to become the perfect knight!


    "By many arcane rituals in my Father''s keeping, I sought to reach onward! Beyond the Soul Event Horizon to gaze on what lay beyond!"


    "You were a fool to even try and deserved what you got," said Tanith.


    "So said many who knew well to hide from it," said Edward. "What I found burned my arm away from me and nearly claimed my very existence. It killed several completely innocent servants. Their bodies were reduced to bloodstains."


    That was...


    The funniest thing Tanith had ever heard.


    She laughed and laughed and laughed like never before. The men recoiled, horrified as a shroud of red power surrounded her. And Tanith felt another laughing with her.


    "You laugh?" asked Edward.


    "You made a deal with with a demon, and it backfired," said Tanith, bringing down her blade to hit him on the shoulder. "William was not such a fool." Edward tried to raise his blade, but she disarmed him. "They have no truth to impart, deceive, and betray! Such is their nature! You were stupid, and the gods cannot abide stupidity!"


    A final blow floored him.


    "Is it stupidity to venture into enemy territory to gather information?" asked Edward, trying to rise. "Or to wonder why things function the way they do?"


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Tanith kicked him down and pinned him. "Yes. I remember our time together and why I choose to go to Carn Gable instead.


    "You ignored every taboo; you scoffed at the warnings of religion! You sneered at those who dared have faith. And when you had to admit that those with faith were better than you, you did so with condescension.


    "You were the perfect fusion of stupidity, pride, and vanity.


    "What protection do the gods owe you that you have not flaunted? Have you ever once prayed? When have you looked for warnings, really looked? Not just looked for an absence."


    "Have you?" asked Edward, grasping for his blade.


    "Of course!" said Tanith, snatching it before he could. "I am Tanith Telus! My sword sends souls to Elranor''s grip with every blow I make. My every conquest is in his name. I obey his commandments as best I can and defend his people.


    "All you''ve done is sell them for slaves." Stepping off of him, she planted the blade into the ground. "And now you use the gods as a means to excuse yourself for your atrocities. I helped the Furbearers set themselves free while you refused to help them. Even Tavish did more than you; all he cares about is money."


    "It''s too late," said Edward, standing up. "Events are in motion that cannot be stopped." He wiped the blade on dead grass as a priest came forward with water.


    "Duke Vanion is already stopping them," said Tanith. "His plan is already in motion. You can see it across the Fursnow river we''ve been fighting over. And in House Telus, in me, and in the downfall of Lord Rius and the corrupt.


    "You can see it in Artarq, which brings in more weekly revenue than it did in a year under Argath Marn. Fortresses raised upwards to the sky, Baltoth defeated twice. So maybe you should be focusing on what exactly you can do right now, beyond fighting me? Because I can do this all day.


    "I am not one who shall engineer this. I simply foretell.


    "Duke Vanion shall one day be King of Antion."


    "And if the future does not cooperate with your delusions?" asked Edward.


    "I''m just an insane blood knight, Edward," said Tanith. "You and these men should make your own judgments.


    "Take me to Lord Kern.


    "I would speak with him at once."


    Edward sheathed his sword, as did Tanith. "As you wish.


    "I will take you to Lord Kern under parley." Water was offered, and she drank.


    They were quick to do as she said, and Tanith was glad they feared her.


    "Who was the other with you?" asked Edward. "William?"


    "Not at all," said Tanith, wiping off her blades and sheathing them. "William is heading to Gel Carn." Then she halted as she saw several shrines. Shrines adorned with images she''d seen on tapestries before. And there were people praying at them. Fires were burning high by them with burnt offerings. "Shrines to Maius, Isriath, and Imogen, Goddess of Thieves.


    "You are worshipping foreign gods?"


    "It was by the direct demand of High Priest Cirithil," said Edward. "We needed certain networks of his. In addition to a ''gift'' of silver, he wanted these raised.


    "Are you going to cast them down?" asked Tanith, feeling her contempt for him growing.


    "Why would I?" asked Edward.


    "Perhaps these are why you lost Elranor''s favor," said Tanith. "Pray on it."


    "Are William''s books exaggerated?" asked Edward.


    "Not really," said Tanith, feeling the Shark Queen depart. "I mean, I wasn''t in Seathorius, but he did do most of the stuff I said in his novels. The Khasmir Campaign was a nightmare. No plunder, nothing but demons for miles around; Kusher, William, and I had one of the most dangerous jobs.


    "You don''t survive that kind of operation without being good enough. You should cast all these shrines down. Nobody is worshipping them anyway. Then order a few days of prayer and contemplation.


    "If should help ward off any bad spiritual influences."


    "I suppose," said Edward.


    "Why do you ask?" asked Tanith.


    "Because..." Edward halted and then led her over to one side near a water clock. A more advanced one, at that. "I believe that the demon I communed with was Laughing Wraith.


    "What matters is that Father has been off. He''s always been very responsible and dutiful and loyal to the crown. Then out of the blue, he interrupts long-made plans. He starts talking about enslaving the Furbearers.


    "Granted, there were decent reasons, as far as they go.


    "But he seemed almost driven mad like something was getting at him and forcing him to do it. His eyes were different, and he was shifting, looking odd. I actually called a priest to ask him for help, but he didn''t see anything. He wasn''t possessed, not directly, anyway.


    "I had the feeling that if I had tried to stop him, he''d kill me."


    "Is he-" began Tanith.


    "Father is far too loyal to every knowingly betrayed King Gavin," said Edward. "He''s had several, much better opportunities than this.


    "And he was good friends with Lord Osris, though they drifted apart.


    "They went on several journeys to Seathorius together after the ceremony. Father said that he was trying to find out more about what I had seen. But he never spoke of what he found on that. It turned out he was undertaking negotiations with a Calishan noble, Emiran. Often they were hounded by Laughing Wraith on the way, but they always escaped him. Once, Osris even wounded him on their last trip there, and it was nearly his death.


    "Those stories haunt me still.


    "This was before Duke Vanion formalized relations. So, Emiran was necessary to discuss things. He wasn''t part of Calisha, but he was connected and could play middleman. A number of other nobles went there as well.


    "That was when Father started to bring home women from Caliph.


    "All of them were beautiful, and something terrible had happened to them. Father would give them basic jobs, such as maids or other things. And they''d act as if they were in heaven to play the role of servant. He never touched them, with the exception of one he kept as a Mistress. Tavish was his son by that, and he went out a long time ago to prove himself, and nobody could restrain him.


    "Don''t say any of this to Father; if you could do, it could bring out... him."


    "Him?" asked Tanith.


    "A different side of Father; it''s like a vicious cornered animal," said Edward. "A dark parody of who he is. It started to manifest the more women he brought back. He''s been trying to save them, but I think the thing he''s trying to save them from is coming with them. The more he draws them in, the more power it has over him.


    "He stopped recently and said it was interfering with his work."


    "Maybe you could get them to pray to Elranor," said Tanith.


    "If nothing else, it might pain the creatures on the other side," noted Edward. "I do not understand how such creatures could ever be allowed into this world."


    "Because we summon them by action," said Tanith. "The Gods can''t save us from ourselves."


    "We should go," said Edward.


    He led her up a flight of stairs by the walls of the keep. They were steep and wound around the side. There were holes in the walls above which could pour lime and other things down at them, over the wall. Their people were laboring to reinforce defenses and moving goods; Tanith saw it was dusk.


    It had been a fun little war, with a few hundred casualties from a variety of places. But it was good to get back to killing Calishans. And she had killed some Calishans here anyway, so it worked.


    They went through a door, minded by a stunningly beautiful woman with empty eyes. She had a happy and content look on her face that disturbed Tanith. And though she had long blonde hair, there wasn''t much to mark her as a person. Another led them up the stairs and saw such women as servants. All were dressed conservatively and were doing practical, sensible things.


    It was as though they were in paradise.


    What horrible wrong had been done to make this castle with cold stone? Why did a few adornments seem like heaven? Was it Kern? Edward kept his eyes away from them. But, at last, a door opened into an office. Lord Kern was behind a desk, writing with a truly miserable look. His eyes were veiled in shadow, and he almost looked like he might break down and cry, though he never would.


    But there was no reason for it.


    Looking up, Kern saw Edward and smiled slightly. A bit of the darkness came out of his eyes, and he stood. Now he was the stern man. "Edward, you''ve got her to come back with you.


    "Just excellent. I''m told that Tavish is controlling the situation, and things should be going well. You''re going to have a lot more responsibilities going forward.


    "I expect I''ll be called all over to mediate things. Vanion is reasonable, but Edmund Telus has hated me for years. Getting him on our side could be interesting."


    "With respect Father, I should undertake some missions out of Haldren," said Edward. "I have been here too long."


    Kern nodded. "If that is what you wish."


    "Also, given the situation, it might be best to call for a week of prayer for the population," said Edward. "Demons seem to be slipping through the cracks."


    "What for?" asked Kern as if he''d not heard the last part.


    "I believe our spiritual defenses have been weakened," said Edward. "The servants, too, should do so. Regular prayers if only to keep worse things at bay." He eyed Tanith in obvious terror, though he hid it well.


    Tanith had felt a power within her, not the Shark Queen, but something else. Something awakened by proximity to the Shark Queen.


    "The people may do as they like," said Kern sternly. "Faith in the gods is personal, not political, and compelling it is useless." Then he looked to Tanith and stepped around the desk, straightening his blue robe. "Please, Lady Tanith, this way. I am Lord Kern; I hope my subordinates did not alarm you."


    "She alarmed us," said Edward.


    They were led out of the office and down a side passage. Then up a flight of stairs to the top of the only tower.


    Here they came to a room with two odd water contraptions. One of them was a pool of water in a bucket, suspended perfectly still. It was very still. But a strange, tube-like device dripped water into the surface, sending many ripples for a time. Eventually, there was a moment of perfect clarity, and then there was another drop.


    On the opposite side of the room was another water contraption. It was a series of tunnels with swirling water within. Some magic or means was causing it to spiral around in an eternal circle. Tanith saw beneath it that many gears and weights were making it happen. Even so, it would eventually need to be reset. Looking back to the other, she saw that the machine with the buckets would also need to.


    Tanith felt that the machine with the rushing water had to be reset more often. Over each one was a window facing the sunrise and sunset, a poor defensive structure, yet glass was in front of it. So that there was a beam of light on one in the morning, neither at noon nor on the other at the desk.


    Did they represent something? Kern was standing between them as if an automaton.


    "I''m not here for pleasantries," decided Tanith. "What alarms me is the balance of power falling to pieces around us, Lord Kern. An army of Furbearers is planning to come down here and siege you. I tried to talk them out of it, but they are intent on blood."


    "You were the one who led their attack," said Kern.


    "I am interested in a stable buffer state between our peoples," said Tanith. She was putting on her most professional appearance. "That is the entire reason that the battle was fought. The Furbearers perceived the conduct of your emissaries as condescending. It was apparent they were not respected.


    "Since they''d liberated themselves from slavery with my help, they were angry. I choose to channel that anger toward attacking your military."


    "And your favored targets are my Dren guests?" asked Kern.


    "The Furbearers believed there was a plan to supplant them using the Drens," said Tanith. "And, I have no desire to see Harlenorian men supplanted by immigrants. If they were honorable, they ought to have died for their country.


    "As it is, they fled to us. So we killed as many foreigners as we could while hurting you."


    "Well, if nothing else, that bloodletting has cooled the hells of our fighters. It has helped ease the immigrant''s arrival," said Kern, gaining a bit more humanity. "I promised them sanctuary and shelter for their families.


    "The malas trade Vanion has started is being used to transport refugees. Individuals who no longer want to live under the tyranny of Baltoth. Many of these men were waiting for a family."


    "Tell them their Father died to defend their future," said Tanith. "Then give them all the worst jobs and hope they go away."


    Silence.


    "Have you no compassion?" asked Kern, as though he''d been expecting to be asked that question.


    "Not really," said Tanith. "What about the Babarassians? What is your plan here?"


    "The plan has succeeded, finally," said Kern. "Lady Farwa managed to get the promised malas to my ports, and I may now build a Sorcerer''s Guild for King Gavin. It was intended to be quiet, painless, and not disturb anyone. That was never an option.


    "For reasons which by this point must seem all too obvious.


    "Our original plan was to transport it to the Furbearer ports and move it here. However, with the Babarassians scattered and broken, we may instead send it by our usual route. The trade lanes should be safer.


    "King Tyos will have much safer voyages to Themious henceforth." Silence, and he looked for words. "This entire situation has been a disastrous escalation no one wanted. And I am beginning to wonder if anyone at all planned it that way."


    "What do you mean?" asked Tanith.


    "Tanith Telus, could you tell me everything that has happened so far from your perspective?" asked Edward, interceding.


    "We''re going to be here a while," said Tanith.


    Kern looked up as a door entered, and a woman entered. For a moment, he regained some measure of his humanity. He looked more human now. "Would you bring us some tea, please?"


    The woman already had tea, as though she''d done this before. It was set down on a circular table in the corner. Tanith had not seen it, but now it was pulled out by Kern and Edward, and chairs set down. So she sat down with them.


    "I have never seen servants so happy," said Tanith.


    "They come from a place called Caliph that could charitably be called hell on earth," said Kern. "A nice place to visit if you don''t pay attention." His voice was filled with hatred and disgust. "I did pay attention, and I observed the brutal treatment of the women there. They were bred for beauty, but they were treated as animals. The surrounding nations around Caliph hate the place; it is a twisted parody of their culture.


    "The name was chosen to mock them.


    "I needed servants, and I chose to free as many of them as I could. First, I buy them as slaves, as some people do. Then I give them employment and decent treatment, and honest work. I have only touched one of them, the first, and I will never do so again.


    "Both of us do exceeding well by it." His disgust was even worse than before.


    "I have always said this was an unseemly practice," said Edward.


    "You have not been to Caliph, Edward," said Kern. "The place is a nexus point like Antion. , But unlike Antion, it has been corrupted by outsiders and turned into an abomination. I make no exaggeration when I say that... all this is akin to heaven compared.


    "No beatings, no being raped for fun and healed, no verbal abuse or being sold to even worse masters. Some of them have been sold to demons, Edward, like the one that took your arm. I can''t save them, but I could help these.


    "They have mass graves just for the women disposed of in the snuff houses."


    "Snuff houses?" asked Tanith.


    "You don''t want to know," said Kern sadly. "Antion was not becoming Caliph; you don''t need to fear. It took many ages for Caliph to be what it is, and those who built it would be ashamed.


    "It requires a very specific level of evil.


    "One must be utterly repulsive but have enough good qualities to not be utterly destroyed. Yet those good qualities must be hostages of sorts. I suspect they also have trade with the Demoration and are being propped up by outside resources.


    "''There innocent people in this city.''


    "Thus preventing the gods from seeking vengeance. You also need a view of good in the surrounding lands that does not allow vengeance. If any society around Caliph were willing to start a war for revenge, the city would be annihilated in a week.


    "But, if revenge is wrong, you can only have defensive wars. You may only assault a city with a clear, strategic reason. In worldly terms, however, the cities benefit from Caliph immensely. It provides income and money; they generally keep their worst atrocities out.


    "There have been wars with them. Yet the city has never been destroyed."


    "Rather like Zigilus," said Tanith, remembering the tales of Abdul Sahshir.


    "Rather, Caliph is what Zigilus might become if not destroyed periodically," said Kern. "Zigildrazia makes a point of destroying Zigilus before it faces a crossroads. That between becoming wholly irredeemable and abandoning the path of lust.


    "Caliph is what happens when such a city continues down that path. Antion would need many ages to decay that far. And it would have to be very gradual, or the fall would destroy them."


    "And what about the Furbearers?" asked Tanith, surprised that Kern talked about this so much.


    "They attacked us; first, it is as simple as that," said Edward.


    "What do you mean?" asked Tanith.


    "Tensions had been growing between the border settlements for some time," said Kern. "The Furbearers and my people were growing numerous. King Gavin had created a lasting peace. But the Furbearers had no tradition of going to war, and many men went to war. So they found themselves coming to find Furbearers squatting on their land.


    "''King'' Osris has no authority to compel his people to do anything. He is a general organization that is called on in times of crisis. He could suggest they stop firmly but could not force the issue. Some of them went back; others pressed forward. Then, a few months ago, things began to get out of hand. Several fights broke out, and there were a few robberies.


    "The militia was all ready for conflict.


    "Of course, ordinarily, I would have negotiated matters with them. And I did, several times, in fact. But they kept pushing.


    "That alone, of course, would not be sufficient justification for the scale of the attack.


    "But there were other factors."


    "What factors?" asked Tanith.


    "I was tasked by King Gavin with creating a Haldrenian Sorcerer''s Guild, as I said," said Kern. "It is a project I have been working on for some time. Largely figuring out what had to be done for it to happen. The Guild prefers to keep information private. However, it was decided that it must be done secretly.


    "If Duke Vanion learned of it, he might think we were moving against him. The same could be said for many other political parties. So many business interests would be damaged if the Sorcerer''s Guild had an alternative."


    "We delayed the plan for some time," said Edward. "Fearing escalation.


    "But word reached us that King Tyus was planning to arrange a political marriage. So it was with the realm of Stormstrike. Magicora is usually the place that provides magical support to Haldren. And since Escor is divided, we can handle them working against us. They prefer to remain neutral.


    "Yet if Escor becomes stable, Magicora would have to pick sides. And Escor is the logical choice.


    "That meant we had to destabilize Escor or get our own magical school. For obvious reasons, we chose the magical school."


    Kern nodded in approval and smiled a bit. It seemed to be a great act of will to do so, but he managed it. "The problem is that such a school requires a nexus of energies. A place where spirits can be more active than is normal for the world. Wielding magic in a normal place is easy enough as an isolated incident.


    "But try having an entire class practice it, and you''ll exhaust the spirits very quickly.


    "An organized curriculum requires malas to create the energies the spirits use."


    "Thus, why you attempted to get it from Antion?" asked Tanith.


    "Yes," said Kern. "I''ve long had contacts with the Sorcerer''s Guild. I had a rather extended career. They understood the need to maintain the balance of power and avert a war. At the time, we''d expected an extended war with Calisha.


    "Vanion''s strategy was... unique and unexpected.


    "In any event, we''d put together everything. However, we could not actually get it through to Ascorn. Vanion has been admirably ridged in policing the use of malas, all the more so since the Khasmir Campaign. That is a good thing, and no one save the corrupt begrudged the loss of Savior''s Run. But it caused serious problems.


    "Duke Vanion is, after all, a political rival or at least a potential one.


    "That was why I arranged for one of my sons, Tavish Kern, to establish waypoints with the approval of the local lords. At the same time, it took some of the pressure off the nobility and provided a means to bypass the absurd taxes.


    "I mean the ones'' on the King''s Road.


    "It isn''t the fault of any one person, you see, the system used for the King''s Road-"


    "I know the system I''ve traveled it, and it desperately needs reform," said Tanith.


    "Something to discuss later," said Kern. "In any case, the system was set up. And it led to great prosperity in Ascorn, at least until Arkan brought in the Healer''s Guild. Arkan, of course, claims it was inevitable, but the truth is the nobility could have stopped it at any time.


    "Antion has become complacent and weak, and the fiasco with Lord Rius has finally woken them up. They fear that if another incident like that happens, they could have a rebellion. Thus they are working to do what they should have done a decade ago.


    "Historically, the best solutions involve fixing them at the beginning."


    "Does not Tavish work for Arkan?" asked Tanith.


    "Nominally? Yes," said Edward. "In practice, no one works for anyone but themselves in the criminal world. They are akin to nobility, without principles, sophistication, or morals. They''d love to be considered Lords and Ladies of the underground.


    "But I''ve never heard of a Lord being applauded for beating his wife or murdering his best friend. Such things happen, but it makes the Lord in question a pariah. Kafka was the exception, and that was only because he got results and was insane."


    "I hadn''t noticed," said Tanith. "His actions seemed pretty rational to me, if a bit ruthless."


    "The point being, Tavish was out for himself as everyone was. Arkan put pressure on him one way, I another, and Rius as well," said Edward. "He is simply a mercenary maneuvering his way one way or another in changing tides."


    "He is no more a mastermind than yourself or I," said Kern. "Unimportant in the face of forces beyond one man''s ability to influence directly.


    "Do you see that tranquil pool over there?" He pointed, and Tanith looked. "When a drop of water lands, the ripples are all anyone sees. A single stone makes all the difference. Now, look at that manmade vortex. You toss a stone into that, and it makes no visible difference." Tanith realized that there was water dripping from a tube into the water. She hadn''t noticed.


    Which was the point, wasn''t it?


    Was Tanith the vortex or the stone? The mania which possessed her now and then remained in the background. Yet it was also within her, part of her. It was staying outside and waiting to enter, feasting on every foe she slew, driving her to greatness.


    When Tanith laughed, another woman laughed with her, and the wind carried her voice.


    "Some, like Alchara, say that the pond should be forever tranquil," continued Kern. "Yet nothing will be done if that is the case, and man will decay. So why even bother to exist if all your existence is to observe yourself? Pierce too many layers, and you will find that you have stayed in a castle your entire youth, doing what you were told.


    "A tranquil pond becomes stagnant and overgrown with weeds and muck. And all you can do then is rip it up.


    "Others, like Anoa the Bright, believed in constant movement. Unceasing energy in pursuit of your goals.


    "You can''t see your own reflection in a rush of water. It will bring you neither knowledge nor truth. Only unending toil. Ripples and oceans in storms."


    "How does this relate to the Furbearers?" asked Tanith.


    "Transportation," said Kern. "Your father, Edmund Telus, is a staunch ally of House Gabriel. And he would never allow this kind of operation. The malas would be seized the second they arrived and returned to Gel Carn.


    "The route to King Gavin''s domain, meanwhile, is difficult. Babarassians often prey there, and the ships would take us past numerous dangers. And even if it arrived, it would surely be seen by Escor and others. So secrecy was important to the plan as well.


    "So the Furbearer''s lands were the logical place. We needed to set up a port there.


    "I was trying to negotiate such a plan; however, they are extremely defensive in yielding any of their lands. And, they consider territory that is mine by right theirs by virtue of squatting there.


    "Tavish became aware of these difficulties. He suggested we might bring in the Babarassians. Effectively drive the Furbearers out and get rid of them for good. I initially turned the idea down flat. Aside from a lack of morality, it is also a risky move that could easily backfire.


    "A belief which, I''m afraid, seems to have been proven all too justified."


    "So why did you do it?" asked Tanith.


    "Outside pressure came from Antion," said Kern. "King Gavin was informed that crop failures might occur if the fields were not tilled. I could confirm the information. As laid out by Anoa the Bright, the first rule of being a ruler is that you cannot let your people starve. Unless starving is the only way to avoid slavery, of course, he was very particular about that.


    "Atravain refused to give back any territory she had bought, and neither did the others. But, to be fair, she had the legal right, and blood spilt and shed by her late husband had claimed it. At the same time, there was more fighting on the border, and tensions were getting even worse.


    "Then, somebody burned down a storehouse filled with valuable goods. A rumor broke out that Furbearers did it, and given the situation, everyone believed it. I suspect an overzealous individual might have done it. Or it could have been an accident.


    "But it did not matter.


    "Once it flared up, there was going to be a fight. If I tried to stop it, I would be acting against all my superiors'' will and destroying my power base. And since the Babarassians would at least be drawn away from their usual haunts, I took it.


    "I expected to force some bad terms on them, take enough slaves to fill the quota, and go home. Unpleasant, not unprecedented, and necessary. I am sure you have done the same for many villages. In any event, your Father would surely have interceded on their behalf."


    "So what happened?" asked Tanith.


    "I won," said Kern sadly. "My forces completely overwhelmed the Furbearer armies. The guards were not at their posts; many drank despite Osris'' objections. The Babarassians landed at about the same time and hit them from behind. I''d already conquered them by the time word came to Edmund Telus.


    "That''s why I gave your brother the position; I hoped to stave off a full-blown war. I''d assumed that Rius was reasonably competent. Whatever did you kill him for?"


    "Sokar killed him," said Tanith. "And he was utterly incompetent. He refused to let me sit in on a meeting with men from Haldren. He was dismissive and handled his operations poorly. In addition, he had dealt with everyone but refused to assert control."


    "He refused to let you sit in on meetings?" asked Kern. "Was the man deranged? That''s as good as an act of war. I was trying to establish a marriage alliance between our houses to end the feud."


    "Marriage alliance?" asked Tanith.


    "Yes, it''s a common practice," said Kern.


    "I don''t have a problem with it," said Tanith, surprised he implied she did. "It''s my duty if my Father orders me to marry someone. And it is a good reason."


    "That do you credit," said Kern, sounding pleased. "But I don''t understand why he would not let you sit on the conversations? Several notable dignitaries expressed distress you did not attend when I was there. They''d come from all over.


    "Rius just said you were occupied with the garrison. He said he''d had to direct you in everything and was dismissive of William."


    "Rius dismissed me as William''s attack dog," said Tanith. "A sort of tame wolf that savaged anyone he told me to. Not to be allowed into meetings.


    "Maybe he thought I''d overshadow him." She paused. "...Reg Hawkthorne was running the place better than him.


    "So I challenged Rius to single combat, and he sent men after me. I killed them in self-defense, except for one who ran away; I killed him for cowardice. Anyway, I more or less was done with him."


    "Was it necessary to kill those men?" asked Edward.


    "Yes," said Tanith. "They attacked me, and who do you think clapped all those people in chains in the first place? I didn''t even use my swords; I did it with my bare hands and no armor.


    "What else could I do?


    "Rius sicced them on me."


    "We''ll call it fortunes of war, Edward," said Kern. "We''ve already killed several Telus'' men and many Furbearers."


    "In any case.


    "My plan, insofar as it went, was to reign in my unexpected success. But the Babarassians were already there, and I couldn''t stop them.


    "Even so, I took solace in that at least the plan had succeeded."


    "Then Reg Hawkthorne happened," noted Tanith.


    "Not really, no," said Kern. "Reg Hawkthorne was a nuisance to me, not a threat. He caused a lot of trouble for Rius and the countryside, and he ought to hang. But his efforts were not significant enough to come out here.


    "He would have let the malas go through, especially since the Babarassians were on his side. In fact, he played into my plans, such as they were, perfectly. So reg was a perfect justification to bring Lord Dunmoore in and begin a war with the Babarassians.


    "Once he arrived, the Paladin Order could justify a campaign to destroy their colonies. That would have also removed the economic crisis that Duke Vanion''s peace terms set off.


    "It was William who destroyed everything. Though I suppose the root problem was that Reg could take power in the first place.


    "You see, he was an outsider once he arrived and only saw the surface-level problems. So he looked for the sources of those problems and dismantled the entire machine. At the same time, you rose to a position of influence over the forces of Ascorn. You ingratiated yourself with the paladins.


    "Rius might have been in command, but he could not alienate you.


    "Neither could he explain the situation because doing so would reveal the whole show. So he just had to play along and try to salvage things. The real issue was that William only saw the machine when it was misused. So he took the whole thing to be nothing but a parasitic abomination."


    "I don''t think you realize how much it could be misused, Lord Kern," said Tanith. However, she appreciated how surreal it was being the one to say it.


    "Perhaps I did," said Kern. "But under proper direction, it would not have been a problem. Duke Vanion is such an example. The Dust Elves are kept in control.


    "Systems tend to grow beyond their intended constraints, and it was a necessary evil at the best times. However, at this point, it does not matter.


    "The Sorcerer''s Guild will likely face investigation. Tavish has had his business empire dismantled by his own associates. The Furbearers have been invaded, enslaved, and traumatized. House Gabriel has been forced into a direct confrontation they don''t want.


    And a lot of innocent people are dead.


    "And absolutely no one has gotten what they wanted. Not without cost."


    "What about the militias you''ve been training out there?" asked Tanith.


    "Preparation for an inevitable war with House Gabriel. And trying to help speed along the Heir of Kings," said Kern. "You see, Arengeth wants the Calishans to have connections to Haldren. If only Vanion could negotiate with them, it would leave us in an impossible situation.


    "You''ve been doing much the same thing. And a competent militia system is one of the responsibilities of nobility."


    "You see, we''d thought you were planning a takeover," said Edward. "Thus, why were you reluctant to send forces to Khasmir.


    "Vanion has a reputation as ambitious and ruthless and a bit of a social climber."


    "Duke Vanion is a great man," said Tanith, offended. "And mark these words; one day, he''ll be King of Antion."


    "What makes you keep saying that?" asked Edward.


    "Nothing I''ve seen from the other factions has impressed me," said Tanith. "Rius was a fool; House Hawkthorne is easy to manipulate; Atravain can''t control her own people. King Andoa is nowhere to be seen, and no one takes House Korlac seriously.


    "That leaves House De Chevlon and House Gabriel. The Dust Elves are on our side, and William is taking the Thieves Guild to pieces. So the only piece left to play is the High Priest of the Gods and the Paladin Order.


    "They are not allowed to take sides.


    "Vanion is respected, and commands the loyalty of many powerful men. And he is in a defensible and vital position. His power base is secure. There is an Heir of Kings in Gel Carn, who has the support of Gail Arengeth and is very unimpressive. Relma Artortious is no warrior and can''t lead armies.


    "She''s a decent showman and speaker but has no real guts. Benarus is a fool who can''t stick by his own kind. His strategy for dealing with an invasion of wolves was to wait for Arengeth to fix it for him. When people tried to hit back, Benarus shut them down hard.


    "Argath and I did some damage, but Adrian Wrynncurth had it all his own way."


    "Where are you going with this?" asked Edward.


    "Relma is going to want to be set up as some sort of Queen or King," said Tanith. "So give her a job as a mediator. Vanion takes Antion by marriage or appointment, and Arengeth keeps repairing Escor. Everyone wins."


    "I thought you hated Relma Artorious," said Edward.


    "Not really," said Tanith. "Nobody wants to lose their nation to some amorphous mass to go make friends with Calisha. We''ve our own lands, and we want to mind them. So set her up as a figurehead mediator with a wise advisor, tell her she''s important and shut her up.


    "Then just don''t appoint her heir. Problem solved.


    "No popular will; everybody gets to keep their nation."


    Kern looked to Edward. "...I must say, this sounds like a dreadfully good idea.


    "I''ve never been fond of the idea of remerging Harlenor. All of us are our own people. Anoa the Bright was a great war leader, and we owe him much. But his time is long passed.


    "Perhaps, Edward, you could undertake a mission to Antion to investigate sentiment. Share the idea a bit."


    "It seems a worthy task," said Edward.


    "And what are your thoughts on this, Tanith?" asked Kern.


    "Well, I''ve gotten to kill a bunch of people without any guilt or moral culpability," said Tanith. "I''ve gotten to go on a bunch of adventures with a beautiful foreign Princess. I''ve made House Gabriel more powerful.


    "And to top it all off, everyone is blaming everyone except me.


    "So I get off scot-free. Pretty good run if you ask me. Could have more dead Calishans, but I can''t complain."


    Kern sighed. "...I''m very happy that the miserable state of the human condition has worked out in your favor, Lady Telus. And I will certainly not be marrying you to any of my sons."


    "Thank goodness," laughed Tanith.


    Today had been a good day.

 Chapter Twenty-Two: King Faras

    Today had been a bad day.


    They''d gone through ground that was downhill for most of it. Tyrasa and her comrades found no end of amusement in their troubles. For one thing, no one except Jehair was able to move through the roots and trees without difficulty. William fell several times and, in his armor, had to be pulled up by Felix. He nearly twisted an ankle, which got melodious laughter from the Wood Elves. Even Massacre had it, for she did not seem used to this forest. The roots seemed to take a special interest in grasping at her.


    Tyrasa often called behind as she walked, looking back at her slender neck. She had a tendency to sway those wide hips of hers rather provocatively as she looked back, and she was not alone. Her garb left little to the imagination, and it was difficult to imagine a better sight. She had a very toned physique, as did all of these elves.


    They were also quite open about bathing, though William did not take advantage to look in those cases. He bathed separately from them and kept his back to them as they did. No matter how much he wanted to. Although a comparable one was visible when she looked toward him. Their breasts, soaked with cool spring water, were very firm were-


    No, not appropriate thoughts around a woman.


    Jehair must have also bathed at some point; however, he did not see when she left his company or how. She obviously had a talent for appearing and disappearing. And once when she appeared, she had wet hair that had been unbraided and allowed to dry, and was wearing a second set of clothes. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Felix played cards against himself.


    The trees were nice when you weren''t walking through them. But ultimately, they got past it, only to pass into boggy lowlands. However, they took secret paths that were very difficult to pick out. Tyrasa insisted he tells no one, but she needn''t have bothered. He could not pick out the path despite William''s efforts as he followed her.


    "What was that place?" asked Felix as they rested on an island.


    Some of the elven women were eyeing one another with amorous glances. A few looked to William or Felix, but they kept their distance.


    "The Fortress of Kalisa," said Tyrasa, waving them off. "It lies near what was once our northern border, and we defended it from looters many times. Now, however, the trees have grown high.


    "It has fallen into ruin, but we seek to maintain what remains in the memory of what it once was.


    It was stripped of treasure by King Anoa''s soldiers. Father fought there, killing a dozen men while covering the fleeing refugees.


    "That was in the days after the fall of Lord Feanor, who once ruled Bright Guard before Orson. He kept Anoa at bay by diplomacy and war for long ages and was the chief of Queen Dawn''s lieutenants. And south of Gel Carn was the Greenlands, where Queen Sylvar dwelled in better days. Now that domain is controlled by Adrianeth, the Demonic Archon of Pride. Battles are waged against him daily.


    "We have sometimes led troops to aid the men building there in secret. It is our way to strike by ambush. However, the need has not been there for many years."


    "You aid humans?" asked Felix.


    "The demons are the enemies of all," said Tyrasa.


    "What do you mean ''for long ages?''" asked William.


    "Well, that is to say, the rise of humanity predated Anoa the Bright," said Tyrasa, looking away with a blush. "Anoa was a name often given to great heroes. It was said there was only one. Though we have few records remaining to us."


    "If there are any records you have, I would love to record them," said William. He suspected she was too easy to become infatuated. "I have a love of history."


    "You would have to prove yourself to my Father, of course," said Tyrasa. "Tell me, what do you know of Queen Sylvar?" Her tone was interested, and William did not see why.


    "We were less fond of her. She was brutal with humanity," said William.


    "And by her actions, she prolonged our civilization," said Tyrasa, voice a bit chiding.


    "I believe she shortened it," said William, remembering the records. "Atrocities never benefit the side that performs them. I do not believe Anoa or humanity was helped by their misdeeds. Even if this conquest was necessary. The brutality of it bought all our people misery."


    "In that, we are agreed," said Tyrasa. She had the most beautiful blue eyes, actually. "But we must move on."


    They pressed on and finally came to the main settlement. You could tell it was because many people were sewing, and there were more shelters there. However, there did not seem to be any real village. William guessed that they were nomadic, and this place was intended more as a meeting place. There had been periodic shelters they''d stayed in any way.


    Then William saw King Faras.


    He wasn''t sure how he knew it was him, but he was an unmistakable sort of person. His body was covered in furs, and he almost looked like a bear at first. He had a long, very long green beard, and his hair was long and green as well. His violet skin had a greenish tent, and his eyes, too were green. In one hand was a gnarled staff, and he had such old eyes.


    You could not imagine such eyes on someone young; they were like the oldest trees in the world. And they had great misery that had even been etched onto his face.


    "Father, I bring you visitors," said Tyrasa, going stiff.


    "I have seen them walking in dreams of horses," said Faras. His voice was gnarled and authoritative. William felt as though he were speaking to nature itself.


    "Forgive me, Father," said Tyrasa. She and her companions had changed in appearance. "However, they have already been of some service and wish to repay their debt to our people."


    "Then they will be toiling forever," said Faras. "Seldom have we allowed your kind within our woods? And not at all within our city, not since the siege of Anoa the Bright. His legions did not pierce the gates then, and you will not walk where he could not live without a battle.


    "Who are you?"


    William halted. "I am William Gabriel, the son of-"


    "Your lineage is of no concern here. And you?" asked Faras.


    William felt a surge of insult at the statement but halted and kept his silence.


    "Have you no tongue?" asked Faras.


    "Answer him, Felix," said William.


    "I am Felix, a servant and companion," said Felix.


    "And the chimera?" asked Faras. "I assume it serves you, Jehair?"


    "It does not, Lord Faras. It is the companion of William," said Jehair.


    "I see," said Faras. "These... emissaries must remain here." The insult enraged William, and he had to stop himself from going to his sword. Why? "Jehair, you are known to us. You may enter, but they may not."


    "King Faras, these are very important nobles, and they have come to aid you," said Jehair.


    "I have often seen humanities aid," said Faras. "It ends with blades in hand. Never again. Their nobles even now clear vines and bushes that have stood for decades. In the name of the reclaiming ground, they do not need it. Their High Priest even now schemes and tries to subvert the gnolls who are our children to his own ends.


    "There is nothing that you could say that would convince me. Not unless it were the noblest of causes."


    That was his chance. "I have documentation of slaving records taken from the gnoll''s villages!" said William. "If you use this at the right time, you will utterly destroy the High Priest!"


    Faras looked up. "Cirithil and the nobility will suffer if we use these records?"


    "It will be the end of the church as we know it," said William. "Every noble associated with him will be utterly humiliated."


    Faras laughed, seeming years younger. "That, child, is the noblest of causes!


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    "Come in; I will look at this information and see if it bears fruit as I''d hoped."


    William handed the case over, and Faras took it. "You knew of it?"


    "Yes," said Faras. "There is an ancient elven strategy you should learn. When your enemy is too strong to defeat, you must feign weakness. Make them think that you are utterly defeated and too weak to respond.


    "If they believe, they will become overconfident and be distracted.


    "I knew, once Tavish Kern arrived, that there was no hope of a direct confrontation. So I did not make one, simply ordered the gnolls to cooperate. Eventually, he grew complacent and started storing records, which are necessary for business.


    "And now they are here."


    "Well, why didn''t you use them before?" asked William. "What were you waiting for?"


    "For you," said Tyrasa. "Or someone like you. I had hoped to work with House Korlac, but his overzealous obsession with the law means he will never work with me. And he is too prominent; if his opinion of me was raised, Antion would regard me as a threat.


    "Lord Arthur is more or less decent for a human, but he is too honorable. He would never enact such a stealthy approach. And Vorn has too many local connections to ever do it."


    "So it was either Tanith or me, really," said William. "No other house would have the pull besides ours. And no other member of our houses would have the inclination and cunning. It really seems like Tanith cutting that tree down might have been for the best."


    "Not necessarily," said Faras. "The Tanith Telus who chose not to cut that tree down would walk a different path. Her actions up until this point might be the same. But had she undertaken your journey, she could do the very same thing.


    "However, she chooses her path, and you choose yours.


    "Even if neither of you had chosen it, Lamech might have done it eventually out of spite. Or perhaps Tavish Kern could have been convinced to act. Thus, you are both unique and essential, and yet, not essential.


    "In this world, at this moment, you are the most important person to ever live. And yet you are insignificant, just as all of us our."


    "Why the deception?" asked William, surprised.


    "I had to know your nature," said Faras. "You do not know a man until they get angry. Humanity took a very long time to become angry, and that was ill for us all. They endured too much without complaint while we took it for granted.


    "The result was a forest fire that nearly consumed the entire world.


    "Had you flared up, stormed off, or simply remained silent, I would know your character. And had you simply broken off negotiations out of pride, you would still have the documents. No doubt you would eventually use them, but you would have no cover."


    "You''ve thought of everything," noted William.


    "I am a druid," said Faras. "My purpose is not to exist as an independent entity or live the life of a man but to be the manifestation of nature. To do so, I cannot simply be aware of all possibilities. I must be all possibilities.


    "It is not an easy thing to explain.


    "And yet, I must also be myself at times, bitter and angry at a world that tormented me. This is a burden all things must endure, the disastrous knowledge that they exist.


    "Tyrasa, remain here and ensure they do no harm. I must examine this with Jehair."


    And Faras departed.


    William could not help but feel a sense of relief. It was difficult to stand in his presence.


    "Forgive my Father," said Tyrasa. "He is old enough to remember the wars of old, and the atrocities committed in those days have scarred him. It is in his living memory a time when all this was great, greater than you can imagine."


    "Then he must have firsthand knowledge of the old wars," said William. "Would he be interested in speaking of your history?"


    "Not to you, I think," said Tyrasa, shifting beneath his gaze. Many of her companions had already departed her. Only the blue-haired one remained, waiting. "Or to any human or errand, though he has made some records that he has made us recite often."


    "Perhaps he should arrange for the knowledge to be provided to others," said William. "His memory would be a fitting end to the days long gone. It might aid you in making humans understand your vendetta."


    "And you believe this?" asked Tyrasa, raising an eyebrow.


    "Well, the policy has worked quite well for me. A story that goes unrecorded is a tragic one," said William.


    "Have you seen many stories?" asked Tyrasa, raising an eyebrow.


    "Several," said William. "Massacre knows of them all. Or, most of them."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    Tyrasa frowned. "How is it that you became a companion to so majestic a creature?"


    This question seemed to attract the attention of some of the others. William soon found himself surrounded. The sheer number of scantily clad women was distracting, so he focused on Tyrasa.


    "It would be more accurate to say I became Massacre''s companion. You see, Felix and I had been fleeing from satyrs in the woods of Seathorius-"


    "What were you doing there?" asked Tyrasa.


    "Perhaps I should start at the beginning if you''ll allow me," said William. "Most stories are interwoven with others."


    "Please, do," said Tyrasa.


    "Very well then," said William. "The first thing you should know is that I grew up in a land far to the north called Haldren. It was harsh and frozen, but it was home. To me and to my closest friends Tanith and Felix. Tanith went away to the wars before I did, and so she did not take part in the events I describe..."


    And so William began to describe his stories again and enjoyed it nearly as much as before. Moreover, the descriptions seemed to fascinate Tyrasa and the others of her kind. Some walked away, but most stayed.


    "Then, leaping out the window, I scrambled up to the very top of the castle. All around me, I heard the groans and breaking," said William as he finished. "But the demoness was fast after me, and she lunged at me with her claw.


    "One of her claws caught me right here over this eye, leaving a scar for ages.


    "Then she summoned a great fireball and declared that there would be no escape. Well, I was prepared to meet my end by fighting with my bare hands if I had to. But just at that moment, a lightning bolt surged out of the skies.


    "It caught her, and she fell like lightning from heaven.


    "Of course, by that point, the whole castle was collapsing, and I should have been killed myself. But by divine providence, Kiyora and myself were rescued from harm. And Elranor offered me a position as one of his paladins."


    "You have had a very storied career, William," said Tyrasa, adjusting her hair and getting nearer. As though expecting something.


    "Yes, well, that was only the beginning of things," said William. "I''m afraid humans have a knack for calling up problems we can''t put down easily."


    "You seem all too aware of your flaws," said Tyrasa.


    "It is only by being aware of our flaws that we can work to fix them," said William, shifting to go get his pack. "I could not conquer my fear until I experienced it firsthand."


    "And how did you conquer it?" asked Tyrasa, following.


    "Well, for a start, the attack on my ship," said William. "But the true terror I faced in Seathorius, or I should say we, for Felix had his own adventures, was Laughing Wraith."


    "Father has spoken of this demon," said Tyrasa. "He says that it was called into being by the horrors inflicted upon our people by Anoa. The shock and the trauma caused it to take form and continually torment the dream world. For it was that part of all those souls that they rejected.


    "It is said that it sometimes takes on a mortal incarnation. Such was the case some years ago.


    "How was it that you confronted him and lived?"


    "Well, I was lucky and perhaps a bit brave," said William, sitting down on a stone and beginning to play his harp. "You see, the battle made Kiyora flesh and blood with Arraxia, and together we began a journey to Artarq. With Massacre at our side, we managed to avoid most problems. At least until we came to a sunlit wood and a creature beyond our worst nightmares.


    "Or, I should say, mine. Kiyora had battled him for years without incident. It was only because of our presence in the wood and her protecting us that wraith was no threat."


    "The Dreaming Goddess is well known as self-sacrificing," said Tyrasa. She was sitting down next to him. Her hands were clasped, and the proximity of her body was nice. The idea of holding her appealed to him. "Though she does not come here in person."


    "I imagine the dwarves and otters had more need of here than you," said William. "I suspect they are less used to the same hardships you have suffered."


    "You flatter us," said Tyrasa.


    William did not think that qualified as flattery. "I state a simple fact.


    "The Nakmar Dwarves have never faced a war of extermination on the scale that your people faced.


    "Baltoth''s intervention prevented the Nakmar from suffering the same fate.


    "Neither my race nor the dwarves have had an event happen on the scale that I have read of. And one does not flatter one by reminding one of the wrongs dealt to them. On the contrary, the flatterer focuses his attention only on virtues for the sake of personal gain.


    "They provide no assistance." He sounded much wiser than he actually was. William was beginning to see why the elves hated Anoa so much. Even if he had been good for humanity, he had destroyed many beautiful things.


    "It is said that one should beware of one bearing gifts as well," said Tyrasa, putting a hand on his shoulder.


    William shifted so that her hand dropped from him, putting his harp away as he stood up. He did not like this proximity; it did not seem appropriate. "It is a wise saying.


    "And you are right to distrust me until I have proven me. Shall I go on?"


    "...Very well," said Tyrasa, seeming disappointed.


    And William went on to describe his adventures as they went on.


    "Are you certain it was truly Elranor and not Ictargo?" asked Tyrasa hopefully.


    "Quite. I imagine I should have been corrected by now," said William. "I do not think that Elranor''s will did Anoa the Bright''s more ruthless actions at all. Not by direct command.


    "I''ve come to learn that sometimes a man may serve you loyally yet not enact your will."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Tyrasa.


    "Well, most of Anoa''s great victories didn''t involve atrocities," said William. "Yes, there were a few brutal moments, but that was when humanity was utterly desperate. I believe that Anoa went beyond the orders given by his god and pursued a personal vendetta. Or perhaps he could not control his own people.


    "Certainly, it would explain why things fell apart later in his reign. And Anoa II was wise enough not to continue the violations. Though it would have been better if he had corrected them earlier."


    "I have heard it said that he prevented others from entering the domain of the high elves. Them and others," said the blue-haired one impatiently. "He and those who came after he protected us from the worst of the humans."


    "That was small repayment for what they did to us, Shai. By then, it was too late,"


    "Is it?" asked William. "You have increased in number, and if all goes well, may reclaim some small part of what you once had? In time, perhaps you could reclaim more or establish colonies elsewhere. Not in my time, perhaps.


    "But if the surrounding lands were to come to understand you. As your own efforts continue, your land could be restored. Not as it once was, but perhaps in some new form with its own beauty and power."


    Tyrasa halted and looked at him. "What do you want, William Gabriel? What drives you?"


    "What do I want?" asked William. "I want to heal the land and the people who have been injured. Both mind and body. I want to create a world of strength but without brutality. To raise up great monuments to greater deities.


    "I would see the glory of the old world restored, but without eclipsing those things which are good about the new."


    "Those are very grand designs," said Shai in irritation.


    William moved a bit away. Their aggressive advances needed turning down here. "Yes, I''m aware.


    "In the immediate future, I''d like to get to Gel Carn for the Tournament of King''s and settle the present crisis."


    "Which crisis would this be?" asked Shai.


    "Well, it''s all very economical, and I don''t think you''d find it very interesting," said William.


    "I want to hear it," said Tyrasa, who was beginning to get interested.


    "As you wish," said William.


    And then he recited his adventures thus far, most recent. And they were mighty dull, a boring slog through plaguelands and dull parties. No rest, and no notable battles besides the duel with Lamech. Moreover, absolutely nothing of any importance happened to him.


    "And that brought us here," said William.


    "This is all very complicated," said Tyrasa.


    "To make it all very short, everything we do affects everything else. It has taken some time for me to learn that," said William.


    "That is a very druidic way of thinking about it," said Tyrasa.


    "I would call it simple common sense," said William. "Your every action affects others far more than you will ever know. Still, if all that had never happened, I might never have been able to meet you. Or a lot of other people."


    Tyrasa stood up, shifting. "I..."


    "Tyrasa, Shai, cease fraternizing with that human," said Faras, coming back, thank goodness. "You were assigned to guard him, not speak to him.


    "You, give this to your Father."


    And he handed William a letter.


    "Give this to him and only him," said Faras.


    "May I read it?" asked William. "I am aware of House''s situation, and I will not be with him for a long time. I may be able to tell you how he will react."


    Faras nodded, and William opened it, privately thankful Tyrasa had been fended off. She and the others had no real experience with other people. Her infatuation was not healthy for her.


    He read the letter;


    "To the Duke of House Gabriel,


    "Your offer of reparations, however insufficient, is accepted in the spirit it is given.


    "-King Farus of the Woodland Realm."


    "King Faras, may I tell you something you don''t want to hear?" asked William.


    "You may," said Faras.


    "This reply will never be accepted," said William. "For one thing, Duke Vanion is unaware of your situation. I was making the offer to you on his behalf. However, I would still have to speak to and convince him of my perspective. He has many concerns, and such a curt letter would alienate him.


    "Even if it did not, responding to such a response with, as you put it, reparations would be viewed as a sign of weakness. Human monarchs can never show weakness, or they will lose the respect of their people."


    "I am a King," noted Faras.


    "I am fully aware of our positions," said William, not wanting to say that Faras, as King, was weaker than many Lords. "However, it is impossible for us to respond to this.


    "Jehair, you are aware of the doings of nobles. She has an outside perspective and might know how to explain things better."


    "King Faras, please humor them," said Jehair. She was leaning against a tree with her arms crossed under her breasts. Her hair had been tied up above her instead of in braids, and it looked nice. "This is a real opportunity for us. It will speed up many of the plans already in motion."


    Faras nodded. "...As you wish."


    And he departed to go back to his work.


    "Your Father has different notions of statecraft from my own people," said William.


    "He had led us since long before I was born," said Tyrasa. "Of the original survivors, he is the only one left. Virtually all of them is descended from him by now. And so every death among us is a death of his own flesh and blood.


    "It weighs heavily on him," said Shai. "And he ought to have more respect from beings so much younger than your Duke."


    "You must forgive us," said William. Were they sisters? It was difficult to remember the others. "We have become so focused on our many enemies gained over ages of battle. We have yet to be aware of your existence. Harlenor cannot know how they ought to treat you when our war with Calisha has blinded us to you.


    "It is an oversight we will not make again."


    Tyrasa nodded. "I will ask no more, then."


    "Are there any injured here I might tend to?" asked William.


    "Some of the gnoll servants may be in need," said Shai.


    "Take me to them," said William.


    And so things began again.


    If William didn''t figure out how to shut all this down now, he could face some serious problems later.

 Chapter Twenty-Three: Carnival of Souls

    When William first began healing people, he feared he''d botch it. Then he''d enjoyed it. He''d like to see sick people rise and be healthy. Eventually, he''d viewed it as a kind of heroic cause. One man against all the plagues the world could muster.


    Then William started to feel put up, like a man trying to hold a bridge in vain against unending tides. Each person he slew was saved instead of killed, and the villages behind him stayed safe.


    Now William was just sick of it.


    Jehair rarely assisted, usually spending her time scouting and collecting herbs. She was able to teach him a thing or two about the use of medicine. But since he never ran out of healing power, that was of no use. So it became a miserable slog through the mud toward a destination he would never reach. With enemies all around and flies biting.


    He sent those who were filthy to be washed after he healed them, but he hardly had time himself.


    And at last, they entered Blackfear.


    It really lived up to expectations. There was no gradual fading of the trees or natural barrier. One moment they were walking in healthy woodlands, free and unencumbered. Then the next, everyone was black and terrible. The trees twisted, made several more attacks, and had to be fended off. The roots groped at their feet, and it took many prayers from Jehair to drive them off.


    And finally, they emerged.


    Into a far, blackened country beneath a cloudless sky as the wind howled around them. It was a simple void, with swirling vortexes of green the only mark and red. Dark things peered down on them, or William was a fool. And the land, though there was no visible source of light. It stood in perpetual, half-lit illumination. The ground was alive but black and tainted by the feet of evil things. And everywhere they went was the stench of rotting vegetation.


    At a spring that Jehair brought them to, they refreshed themselves. Yet the cold water seemed to claw at their faces. Though it did not hurt the flesh, William felt it pained him more than a thousand fly bites.


    "Well, you''ve become quite the charmer," said Felix.


    "That is purely Elranor working through me, Felix. I deserve only partial credit," said William.


    "Are you alright?" Felix had been off lately, and he wondered why. Perhaps it was a changed nature, William. Felix had always been the one who was more assertive and stronger. In Artarq, they''d had a mutual authority in Vanion, almost equals on the battlefield.


    Now it was the same dynamic, but William was stronger.


    "I admit, I took some personal satisfaction from watching this place fall to bits," said Felix.


    "Well, Antion does treat slaves exceptionally poorly," said William. "It infuriates me to see the country that Duke Vanion has served so faithfully brought so low. It ill befits the Harlenorian race.


    "...And this all seems too much of a detour. At the rate we are going, we may miss the tournament." And assault came on him to his spirit, and looking about, he saw the hills of Blackfear leering about them.


    Low snarls could be heard, but Jehair paid them no mind, looking helpless.


    "What do you care about the tournament, Felix?" asked William. "You''ve never had much interest in swordplay."


    "It''s a good opportunity," said Felix. "You can take the measure of the nobility there and learn the nature of their character." More snarls and William went for his sword, but Jehair caught it.


    "Drink," said Jehair.


    William did so. The water pained the tongue, and an air of hopelessness fell on him. It was crystal clear, but it fought his enjoyment. Getting it down his throat was pain incarnate, and he swallowed as though it was bile. It refreshed, but no joy was given.


    William hated every stone of this place.


    And decided he''d do something about it.


    "Yes, I suppose you are right," said William. "But we''ve got to do what we can to help against the troubles that have been happening. It would be no good if the whole place collapsed on itself while we won the tournament."


    "You overestimate your part in things," said Jehair sadly.


    William said nothing. He remembered well Jehair''s secret councils with King Faras. And with that, her many offhand statements. However much he might want to trust her, he did not.


    She might be his guide for the moment, yet she had some other agenda here. The only question was, what?


    And keep moving, they did.


    But it only got worse as the ground seemed to grip at their feet, and they brought stenches of rotting corpses. They walked and saw festering, stinking marshlands but no people. Only an occasional burnt-out husk, long abandoned, where people had once dwelled.


    "Bah," said Massacre, sniffing as she loped forward.


    "Massacre, you''ve returned. What news?" asked William.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "So, there have been problems with disease in the domain of Neral Dinis?" asked William.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "I see," said William. "Then we''d best hurry there as quick as possible; one Jehair has gotten back. I want to be able to come back from Gel Carn before the fighting starts."


    "We might still join the King''s Road by moving west," said Jehair. "Neral Dinis has no bandits in his domain, for undead stalk it instead, preying on those who live. So we would be safe on it."


    "Are there no militia?" asked William, surprised.


    "No, or very few," said Jehair. "This area saw the use of militia fall by the wayside in favor of farming and mercantile. Neral Dinis exploited it when he was given power. So now they fear him, and warriors tend to be hit first.


    "Though it has always held a penchant for the undead. Sylvar commands them and drives them to prey on the living."


    Eventually, they came to where the earth was rent and pitted. Here it was difficult to move without going through creators. Jehair knew the way, however.


    And then the snarls became roars. Shambling, mottled, decaying corpses came forward from the ground. Their hands might as well have been claws for their decays. Their tongues lolled from broken teeth. The air around them stank with decay, and their eyes were wild when they weren''t rotting.


    Bounding on all fours like dogs, William hardly got his sword out before they rushed at them.


    Jehair spun her scythe in one move, yet three lost their heads. Another strike cleaved two more down, and a third a final one. William knocked one away with his shield and finished it with a low. Felix hewed two while darting between shadows. Jehair slashed down two with hardly changing positions. Then three more as they came at William.


    Massacre breathed her flames at them and roasted them. Yet they ran forward with the flame nonetheless. William cleaved another, then another, bashed down a third, and then was born down. Flaming jaws were over him, and he nearly lost his grip on his sword as they were on him. They bit at his armor, trying to pull it off, and a deadly chill fell over him. But he thrashed, smashing and throwing them off. Rising up in his armor was difficult, even with the blood haze, but he was desperate and mad.


    Hewing wildly, he cleaved down too, and another for good measure. Massacre breathed her flames behind him, setting them afire. And her mighty paws smashed down several more. Felix was slashing from the shadows. But the ghouls were coming mostly at Jehair, and William saw she was yielding ground. No matter how fast her strokes, they were encircling her.


    "Jehair is in need! To her!" cried William.


    And rushing forward, he slashed wildly, cutting limbs and heads as black blood spewed. A feral rage poured from the wounds, or so he thought. Felix came to him, and Massacre smashed through the things. Jehair hewed the enemy down like a graceful assassin, her scythe killing them in waves. But there were always more, and soon the ghouls were going at Massacre too. Slashes were appearing on her.


    Enraged at this, William rushed forward and attacked like a berserker. He was cleaving skulls and limbs and killing them. Yet they did not fear death and accepted it as readily as flesh. Cutting the head from one biting Massacre, he turned to shield and bash another. There he saw Jehair coming toward them. She left behind a trail of bodies, and so much the better.


    It made William feel good. His vision was red, and his enemies were all around him. Yet he felt twisted joy that was not his.


    It was not because they were dead. But the joy that had been denied was released from prison. Yet that made the undead attack with all the greater fury, and soon they formed a knot against the tide.


    The land seemed to grow angry, and their numbers seemed limitless. Finally, William healed Massacre and then defended her with Felix.


    "This is no good," said Jehair, slashing them down all the faster. "We must withdraw to higher ground."And raising a hand, she caused the land to grip the ghouls before cutting her way free of them. All of them followed and fled up a hill. As they did, a mist surrounded them, hiding their enemy. The clouds had come down to cloud their presence and their enemies. They groped forward through the filth.


    Then came the music.


    Joyful, beautiful music resounded, and it lifted their hearts.


    "The music of Isriath is playing throughout the land," said Felix, voice slightly awed. And the mist cleared to reveal much undead falling to death. The joy that washed forth became bitter and sicky-sweet as it resounded.


    "Music or no, we should move from here quickly," said Jehair. "There is more undead coming from there."


    "No, undead do not tire. So we should make a stand," said William. He would not yield the battlefield to the dead unfought.


    And so the undead scales the hills toward them, their eyes glowing beneath the void in hunger. They found them waiting, and William struck.


    "These undead are pathetic," said Felix, cleaving them down. "They outnumber us immensely, yet they can do nothing to us."


    "What are these creatures?" asked William, cleaving down two. The outpouring of joy seemed less bitter with the strokes of his blades. To labor for it seemed now better than accept it.


    "Ghouls," said Jehair, cleaving down many more. "They prowl the lands of Neral Dinis, hunting at will. They were a relic of a time when the Withering King ruled these lands. And they rise now and then, in more savage and vicious form than most."


    William now felt unbearable sadness as he cut down one after another. With each blow, he felt like he was feeling some ancient tree that had lived for ages. The memory of it pained him, but these creatures meant to kill them. So three times, the undead assailed the hill. And three times, they cut them down in droves.


    At last, the undead drew back to gather. Jehair nodded and drew the wood she''d gathered from falling branches from her pack. "Quickly, we must start a fire, put down the firewood we prepared.


    "It should ward them off and slow them for a while. After that, they do not come near towns or venture into places lit by flame."


    And setting about it, they set kindle from dried leaves and burned them. As they did, the flames roared to life, bright and shining. Beneath the darkened sky, they were beautiful and spoke of hope. Enraged by the light, the undead attacked with greater fury, only to be slowed by the light. William struck down one after another, as did they all, as the flames burned ever brighter.


    The spirits of the land swirled around them in hatred and fury, seeking to quench the fire. The ghouls attacked ever swifter and more aggressively, desperately seeking to reach them. Why were they not afraid of Massacre''s flame?


    Perhaps because her flame was not from the land but magic.


    Vicious malice pushed the undead forward as they held their ground. And a spirit of formless, white malice rose skyward above them. A hand was outstretched as the tides came in, and William saw what might have been a face. More came in from behind, but Massacre withdrew to halt them and kept moving to tear them apart. Soon they were driven closer to the light of the fire, and the undead was weakened further.


    No matter how many they slew, there were more.


    Perhaps William could call on Isriath for support?


    But, no, that was not his way.


    "Elranor!" cried William. "Elranor, grant us victory!"


    This seemed to enrage the undead, and they took a more intelligent attack. So that it seemed like they were in a world of walking corpses. The specter took on great form, appearing now humanoid, perhaps elven. Tendrils reached forward, and William began to tire. Felix''s attacks were not as strong or swift, and Jehair was also tired. All of them had suffered minor wounds that he''d healed. Not their feet were right by the fire, and they could no longer maneuver.


    ''Call on us,'' said a voice. ''Call on us before it is too late.''


    William thought about invoking Isriath, Maius, or Chun Xi of calling them down to rescue him as Kiyora had done.


    No.


    Falling to one knee, William smashed a ghoul across the skull. It reeled back, bleeding copiously. But it snatched up a flaming brand; he brought it around. Again, the ghouls reeled back, and many caught flame and were burned away. "Elranor! Elranor, God of Death! Kiyora, Kiyora Goddess of Dreams!"


    "The Flower Maiden," said Jehair, casting aside her scythe and grasping two brands of her own. Felix kept his sword and hewed all the faster.


    Now the ghouls reeled back, for the fire that had been kindled had an unnatural brightness. And the brands burned them back, reeled back, hurled by the light more than any blade or mace. Finally, consumed in fire, their body was burned to ashes.


    Light emanated from those brands, and William saw it reach out pale and bright across the land. And he perceived below many villages and hamlets, walled in where people dwelled in fear. Looking up, they saw the brightness momentarily, and he wondered what they felt. Fear? Hope? Joy?


    It did not seem they''d ever find out.


    The visage now took on a horrific form of a mutilated and terrible corpse. And it was descending toward them. Yet, at the very moment their lives would have been claimed, bells came ringing. Recoiling, she looked up as if in alarm, then returned to them. Yet another bell was rung, and she turned in hatred. Finally, the last bell rang, and she screamed in rage, her voice the howling of a thousand restless dead.


    Thus, the sun was dimly visible for the first time, a faint light at best. And though all the darkness flurried to quench, William sensed it felt fear.


    "What is this?" asked William.


    "Sylvar is," said Jehair. "She has always been here."


    Then, slowly but surely, the sun faded, and the world returned to a dim, unnatural twilight. And the ground hated them all the more for having once allowed the sun to look down on it. But, for his part, William did not care, for the memory of this brief victory gave him hope.


    In time they could gain victory. But, then, they needed only to gain the aid of the faithful in this land.


    "Let''s get the hell out of here," said Felix.


    "I could not agree with you more," said Jehair sadly. "Why do you insist on starting fights with every unholy creature we meet."


    "I am a Paladin," said William. "I am supposed to start fights with evil creatures."


    Felix shrugged. "He has a point."


    And off they went, down the hill and past an abandoned and destroyed farmstead. Beyond, he could see a small, unwalled settlement with hopeless-looking people. They gazed at him with indifference and apathy. William wondered for a moment if they were undead themselves. But they were alive; he could see them breathing.


    He wondered if the light had helped them.


    But, soon enough, a mist of a different kind began to rise up, of red, and their feed was taking them elsewhere. William couldn''t even see his own feet. "What magic is this?"


    "You''ve gotten the attention of a powerful person in Blackfear," said Jehair. "Keep your hands near your swords."


    William considered fighting against it and wondered what Elranor would do. Then, considering that this might be an opportunity for a great deed, he chose to follow. So he strode forward toward it. The others did as well, though Massacre seemed in bad spirits. The wound healing did not remove the injury. And she had a slight scar.


    "Are you alright, Massacre?" asked William.


    "Bah," said Massacre miserably.


    "Yes, I know we''re approaching the enemy," said William. "No one ever achieved greatness by running away from something."


    "What about messengers who bring word of approaching armies," said Jehair. "Or men who retreat to regroup?"


    "The messengers are running toward their destination," said William. "Retreating is a tactical action."


    "Not necessary," said Jehair. "You could have to swallow your pride and face humiliation or death to save the army. There is glory in that."


    William considered that. Glory resulted from personal power and growth, which would be an act of strength. But a greater glory was to master one''s own agenda for the sake of another. "I see your point.


    "But I think people have been running in Blackfear their entire lives. I can''t imagine they''ve been trying to hunt these creatures. Not one person came to our aid, and we were clearly fighting well.


    "If they were willing to engage the undead, they would have there. But, unfortunately, there are no patrols, and some villages have no defenses. I can only assume they stay indoors and hope to be left alone."


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "It is a good survival strategy," said Felix.


    "For a person," said William. "It is unbefitting a Harlenorian. And judging from the records, many of these people have been enslaved and done nothing."


    "Quiet now," said Jehair. "The mist is ending."


    They came out of the mist, and William saw the oddest thing he''d ever seen before him.


    It was a majestic carnival with a red, yellow, and violet-colored cloth. There were lights and music in the air, and he could see strange figures dancing. Beautiful women, and also jugglers and dwarves and others. Yet something was wrong here; the more he looked at it, the odder it seemed.


    And he noticed a cloaked figure to one side, face hidden, writing.


    The people here had... empty eyes.


    "Welcome to the Carnival of Souls!" said an enthusiastic voice. And above them, perched on a wire, William saw a radiantly beautiful woman. She had faintly tanned skin with a long mane of blonde hair that flowed around her with bangs over her eyes. Her huge bosom was packed into a white corset that bared her shoulders. She wore a short, dark skirt beneath it and long leggings. A violet cloak surrounded her, tied around her neck by yellow cloth. "A place of pure emotional experience."


    Light flashed through her. She was obscured on the wire before appearing on the ground where the light had ended. Her eyes were closed, showing off her long, dark lashes and violet-painted lips. "Every emotional experience under the sun is available in this place." Her eyes opened, and she smiled as she drew out a deck of cards. "But it is in the cards that you decide which one."


    "What is this carnival?" asked William. "What are you talking about?"


    The woman fanned out the deck before shuffling them with one hand. The act sent many mesmerizing colors into the air. Those around her seemed attuned to the energy as the shuffling continued. Then the light faded, and William saw she had a long mane of golden hair. "Welcome, noble Paladin. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The name is Mai Valens."


    "And honor to meet you milady," asked William, at something of a loss. "Why are you dressed like a carnival person."


    "I''m doing the bit," said Mai. "Shh."


    William fell silent.


    "This is a domain of the Sorcerer''s Guild," said Mai. "But beware that it is formed from the darkness of Blackfear.


    "When one slays undead, the life energies of the undead go into the air. Usually, they flow loose and settle somewhere else.


    "Yet because the undead are so common, it tends to flow into neighboring lands. Crops are lost. This place is a realm of experimentation. It draws that energy here and filters it back into Blackfear.


    "You may gain much here. Or lose much. Queen Jazra made your invitation to this place. She asked me to give you a warm welcome.


    "Oh, and if you walk back without a tour, she will take it as a personal insult. She doesn''t like people thinking of her as part of the scenery.


    "The choice is yours."


    "What is the meaning of this gift?" said William.


    "What meaning you gain by it is yours alone," said Mai as the lights died and the cards returned to her hands. "Follow me."


    "You rehearsed that line, didn''t you?" asked William.


    "Of course, I rehearsed it," said May with a smile. "I am an entertainer."


    And they did follow. But before they did, Jehair put a hand on his shoulder. "Listen to me now. Take nothing. Eat nothing, speak to no one in this place.


    "Those who enter this place often return changed and warped. It is connected to the realm of the Caliph, or I''m a fool. Learn by observation, but this is no time to enjoy yourself. View it as academic, just as those men do."


    William nodded and looked again at the women. Many were giving him amorous glances, too many at that. Then he looked away and decided to simply view the people here as props. Looking to his friends, he decided this was his to deal with.


    "Jehair, Felix, Massacre, remain behind and do not enter," said William. "If I am not back, plan a rescue or other matters."


    "Is this wise?" asked Jehair.


    "Queen Jazra is a god, and I have wounded many of her subjects," said William. "She might well be planning to kill me here.


    "I am bound by honor to appease her. If this may do so, I must."


    "Then follow me," said Mai.


    William followed and walked and halted as he saw a familiar blue-skinned girl. She had been at Ascorn and in the company of Cirithil, and now she was here. He almost went up to her, but then she was gone. As he did, he saw places were vast numbers of delicious food. There were piles and piles on it, but it was poisoned. Jehair knew enough to know that, and William agreed. It was taken from the stolen energies of the undead. One that ought to have gone to the people and land.


    It was theft and poison.


    Dancing girls moved before him, swaying hips sensually, and he found himself drawn to them. Among them, he thought he saw a glimpse of the blue girl from before, walking through them with gaze on him. Then he saw their eyes, empty, as though they were without spirit. These women were acting as they had been trained, like dogs. What horrible wrong had been done to them to make them like this?


    Would that there was something he could do for them? Could he take them away from this place? No, that would just drag them from relative safety to terrible danger. Who was this Queen Jazra? Did she employ these women, or were they, slaves? Was she even involved in this?


    The Babarassians had been his enemy.


    Walking ever further onward, William saw a girl of twelve years old dressed as a prostitute. Bile rose in his throat, and he narrowly kept from throwing up. Technically he was only a few years older than her, but...


    That was not the point.


    "Am I not good enough for you?" asked the girl in a perfect rendition of offense. But her eyes were empty like machines.


    "Get out of this place," said William. "Take everyone you know and run. Go anywhere else."


    And he moved on, praying that these people would get away. As he walked, he saw men making notes. Yet he saw no one else enjoying the festivities. "Where is everything?


    "How can this place continue to operate without patrons?"


    "This place," said Mai. They were withered, but looking hard, they seemed fake. "Has many people. They are all around us. You are simply one of the vessels by which they are experiencing it.


    "Some come to this place on other journeys and never know they walk it. Others seek it out and revel in the depravities. The worst of them are consumed. It''s a lot of fun to watch, not so much to be part of." She turned to eye him with a smile. "If you lose.


    "The Carnival of Souls is not always a carnival. Sometimes it can be a world.


    "Think of it as a universe of... wish-fulfillment."


    "What do you think of my solution?" asked William.


    "Eh, treating the whole thing as hostile territory is a good survival technique," said Mai.


    "Other than not going in at all. But low risk means low reward.


    "If you don''t gamble, you never win big. Like in that tent, see those people."


    William did look and saw no one. Just empty machines were running with many spinning wheels and rolling dice. Slowly he began to discern figures; however, ghosts focused totally on the board. "Who are they?"


    "They''re the losers in this tent," said Mai. "They rolled the dice and kept rolling. They gambled their memories, their hearts, and a lot of other things. Every time they lost, they appreciated what they used to have a little less.


    "Now they''re ghosts, gambling the dice because they''ve always done that. They don''t even know why they''re doing it. But it makes for a nice way to set the stakes."


    "Can they not be freed?" asked William, wondering at this side to Mai. But, then again, her Father had become the God of Madness.


    "They don''t even know what that is," said May, winking at him. "You''ll see in there a couple of fallen priests. Some would be saints. And a lot of businessmen came here from off-world.


    "See, they come to Erian to indulge in forbidden pleasures. They do so without fear of consequences where they''re from. We draw them here, and they find out that consequences don''t need to be feared to happen."


    William tried to discern her race. She was not Harlenorian, but she wasn''t Calishan or any other he''d seen. Her skin was fair, her hips wide, her waist slim, and the hair that fell before she had an unnatural spike and luster.


    "Do you know some of them?" asked William.


    May laughed and drew her deck. "I just like playing games. My parents came into this place now and then when someone gets carried away."


    "...Have they no means of salvation," said William. "No advocate?"


    "They sold those for slaves long ago," said Mai. "Anyway, let''s forget these losers. They don''t gamble anything anymore."


    "Does this connect to the experimental crossings in Antion?" asked William.


    "Yeah," said Mai, who seemed to be adapting a persona. "The Sorcerer''s Guild created this realm on behalf of Neral Dinis. It was a way to prevent starvation for the humans here.


    "They use it to experiment on the people who come down here. If you look, there''s a tent where people drink themselves into nothing."


    William saw another empty tent. But as he gazed in longer, he saw spirits gnawing at their limbs with hunger. Several beautiful girls were standing by with empty eyes. They were as vacant as the ghosts ate themselves. When they devoured a limb, they''d go to another, and it would regrow. Their eyes were wild, in agony and looked famished with hunger. Yet the only thing real to them was their food.


    Themselves.


    "...What happens to the people who don''t become this?" asked William.


    Mai leaped into the air, backflipping up to land on some boxes. Then, drawing a baton from her bosom with one long-taloned hand, she pointed it toward a distant tent. As she did, the tent drew near them, then pointed with one gloved hand. William followed it, seeing an immensely fat man grabbing several women.


    They were tied and pulled into a tent, screaming. But their eyes were empty, and then a young, boring-looking individual looked in with a sword. For a moment, William thought he was boring as he walked into the tent. His eyes widened in horror, but they were empty.


    William realized that this was not illegal.


    The man who was going to rape that woman was not doing wrong according to what rules there were. The individual with the sword was neither wrong, no matter what he did. This place was, so far as William could tell, amoral.


    What was odd was that the streets around them were streets. The carnival was gone, and now they stood in a prosperous villa. And the individual he saw was by the door of a tavern. His sword was out, and there was a man''s scream.


    Shortly after that, the individual returned with the girl clinging to his arm.


    "She''s a succubus," guessed William.


    "Not necessarily," said Mai. "She could be the one who orchestrated the event. Perhaps she placed a spell on the man. Or she could simply be little more than a machine of flesh.


    "Perhaps she was afraid because her master wanted her to be afraid. And after he was killed, she became what her new master wanted.


    "Such is the fate of those who indulge in the Carnival of Souls too much. If you don''t pace yourself. You get so consumed by yourself that someone devours you instead as livestock."


    Mai was having the time of her life with this act. She was really enjoying playing the part of the demonic mystic. Or was this part the real her?


    "And what of Babarassia?" asked William. He was rapidly beginning to wonder if anyone in Antion was not insane.


    "A deviant branch," said Mai. "Queen Jazra really straightened them out.


    "Instead of luring others to be destroyed by what they want, they destroy others to take what they want. She instilled a fixation on foreigners who must be brought in for various purposes as new blood.


    "Foreigners are imported and instill their nature on the land. These days Caliph women from the demoration and trains them from the ground up. All to be perfectly obedient soulmates or prostitutes or whatever."


    "I think the Babarassian way is better," said William. If this was so, Jazra had probably saved their souls. "It is at least more honorable."


    Mai laughed as she leaped down. "I kind of think the villages they raid might think differently. But, perhaps we should continue."


    Once again, they walked the Carnival of Souls. William saw many strange and terrible things as he walked. But Mai walked with a spring in her step as if it was nothing. Her family all seemed to be off somehow.


    Now it was completely empty.


    But they came to a last, huge tent, and within it, they opened the door. Entering it, William found many observers scratching notes on a back stand. Yet he finally found other people, and they were many in number. Some William had never heard of every shape and size around them and of every race.


    They were watching.


    But their eyes were empty and transfixed with blank expressions on the stage.


    William wondered what they saw, for the stage seemed to be empty. Then, looking at the figure, he paused. "What are they looking at?"


    "Their dreams," said Mai.


    "What do you see?" asked William.


    Mai thought about it. Then clenching her baton to her chest, she closed her eyes and smiled. "I see myself on a huge luxury ship surrounded by friends and family.


    "And I''d be able to get manicures and have them do my hair for me. I''ve always wanted to do that. Janice told me they have those in the Demoration."


    "So, you dream of being here?" asked William.


    "No," said Mai. "Only an idiot asks for that kind of service in a place like this."


    "Don''t you think you should have an attainable goal?" asked William.


    "Can we please focus on you?" asked Mai, violet eyes looking upset. "What do you see?"


    "Nothing," said William. "Oughtn''t I have seen something? My desires are not yours."


    Mai looked over to the empty stage. "Maybe you don''t want to see anything."


    "No," said William. "I''ve come over here by personal invitation of a God.


    "All I''ve seen so far is blanket temptation. I believe Queen Jazra is owed a better reception than this." Murmurs of approval.


    "Perhaps some sort of combat by champion?" asked Mai.


    "Would that be appropriate?" asked William.


    "No," said Mai. "The carnival theme demands presentation.


    "You see what you take with you.


    "I have something for you."


    And raising a hand, he put it upwards toward the stage. A curtain of fire shot before it, and then William stood in a different form of carnival. One with an earthen floor of different hues and many real people there. Over on the stage was a beautiful, innocent-looking elven woman with long green hair. She had a star tattoo on her brow, and her face was less humanoid, more elfen with strange angles.


    She was slimmer than Jehair and clad only in a loincloth, with her breasts covered by long blonde braids. Her hands were chained, and she was blushing as though in pleasure. Two bloody stumps were coming from her back. William felt disgusted at the sight, even as she enjoyed the pain.


    "Please..." she moaned, and her eyes had a soul in them. Yet it was totally broken. "My wings were shredded, sir. Hear my tale of woe. It is so horrible, dwelling in this place as a slave to the ground."


    "What is this monstrous exhibit?" asked William, moving forward and grasping his sword. Though whether to cut her chains or kill her, he genuinely did not know.


    She moaned and moaned, explaining her story in a thousand different ways. How she was a victim of circumstance, and the crowd drank it in. Some walked away.


    "Where are you going?" asked Mai in confusion. "This is perfectly legal? This woman enjoys her role on display; the audience also enjoys it."


    "I was such a fool," said the woman, almost in a religious trance. "I went too far afield and was enslaved. So now I am a prisoner." And he felt like he was looking not at one woman but a thousand of them. As if this girl was nothing but a cipher for unending people in chains.


    "This is loathsome," said William, looking to the crowd. "This is unworthy of nobility!"


    But they could not hear him, though some faded away. And the horrible thing continued.


    "But it is legal," said Mai, blinking. "These men have every legal right to soak in her agony as they see fit. And she receives comfort from their emotions. Do you think she exists here because she was a good person?


    "Can it be wrong if all have a good time?"


    "She has no choice," said William.


    "No slaves have a choice," said Mai. "This is a legal use for a slave. Or they are not a slave. And is their master not their god?"


    William tried to interpret it on philosophical grounds.


    The idea that this one person had to endure her for moral purposes came to him. Yet that was absurd. Yet, ideologically, he realized Impus had a point. This was legal, she was enjoying it, and he was a sort of guest. He had seen and looked the other way to other horrors in the past that were worth it.


    This might be a performance.


    What if it was? His actions here still had meaning. He saw here an abomination, a creature warped and distorted into a mockery. It had to be stopped, and the greater meaning had no purpose. And if indeed she was genuinely happy here...


    Such happiness was wrong.


    He drew his sword and moved forward toward the chains. Bringing it around with rage, he hewed the chains. The first blow chipped them but was repulsed by tradition. The second cracked a link with the knowledge of many horrors. The third broke it entirely with a final strike. The chain shattered, and he moved to the next and struck it again.


    Three times his sword fell again, and it broke again. But the last two chains resisted him, fighting back with a feral hatred. Finally, they yanked on the woman, and she seemed to change shape. As if they were trying to rip her apart.


    Contempt for the slavers, honorless and in defiance of laws, went through him. And with a final blow, he shattered the chain. Now for the last, the woman thrashed, eyes rolling back in her head as curses came from her mouth. She seemed not completely consumed by sheer hatred, for him, for the chains. Everything. Falling back on the stage, he grabbed the chain and hewed it.


    Yet this time, the chain resisted, and the woman was on him, howling as she went at him with long nails. William struck one last time, shoving her back, and the chains shattered. Again, the woman fell back, howling. "You wrecked my exhibit!


    "You wrecked my exhibit! I had energy and power; I was worshipped!"


    This woman deserved better than what she had been turned into. William laid hands on her, feeling her rage. The torment she endured had been turned against the one who did it. So soon, she became enslaved to her own torment. He did not know who she was or where she came from.


    This was unworthy of her.


    "In the name of Elranor, be cured!" said William.


    His healing power surged into the now maddened woman, stilling her. Screaming skyward, her injuries long ignored appeared and vanished. Then, a moment later, the stumps were healed, and wings burst forth. For a moment, she was veiled in light.


    Cheers came from the crowd.


    William felt only disgust. These specters all around him were slaves, doomed to be an audience in their own lives. They''d seen this and done nothing.


    The woman was gone.


    Suddenly William found himself walking in the light and saw before him a man. He was all gray, with a short beard and white robes. Their eyes met, and William wondered if these had been his actions. Or the actions of the man channeled through him. Then, looking back, he realized he had not been alone in this or anything.


    His actions here had been but the focus. It was not by his choice but the choices of innumerable others. He might have thought he had taken action himself but was taking it with others.


    The woman was slavery.


    They had killed her.


    Looking at his hands, William saw blood which his power of healing had been used. It hadn''t been her fault; she''d been acting according to her nature that she should exist in a form that was... well... evil.


    For she could do no good.


    Only be the host to good things.


    That horrible act, which had possessed her, had been the ultimate example. A creature chained and reveling in its victimhood. Even as it unmanned those who gazed and took pleasure in it. Corrupted and corrupted everyone around here using the chains that others had forged.


    Those chains were breaking even now, even as they were built. And one day, all those chains would be broken. What would happen to her then?


    What would happen to William?


    For he saw on himself chains now and on everyone else of a different kind. He was a noble, a man of illustrious birth, bred for war. What would happen to him if peace was established? What purpose in existence did he have, save to kill?


    If all men became healers as he did, he would cease to be anything special.


    What was the use of a Paladin in a world without evil? What was the use of any heroism or virtue in a perfect world? To a man who lived to fight for the right, wouldn''t heaven be chains of a different kind? To lose all the power they''d had in life, everything that made them what they were.


    If William lost his status as nobility, he was nothing.


    It was a foundation for who he was. And if there were no nobles in the future, what then? It had already begun. Had he killed the monarchy itself by breaking those chains? Had he shattered all in a moment of self-righteous anger?


    No.


    William was who he was.


    Were he born a commoner, would he endure all as he had now in a different way? Even if all the cosmos were redeemed, there would be new creations. New frontiers conjured from the minds of the gods. And on that battleground, new races and forms of good would come forth and, with them, new evils.


    "There will always be Paladins fighting against the wicked," said William. "And there always will be." And he reached forward toward the man. And at his feet was now the woman.


    Just as she lay at the feet of many, and by her own will, she rose as many others reached out.


    Their hands were touching. Yet invisible barriers stretched between them, a screen of power. As though they were the words of some conceived book, indulged by a tolerant audience. Yet the story was made not by pen but by other worlds.


    When it faded, the carnival was gone. William stood on that same road as if he''d never left. He felt tired but satisfied that he had done his duty. "What happened?"


    "You stopped only for a moment," said Jehair.


    And Isriath appeared before him with a ringing of bells.


    "Why this, Mai?" asked William.


    "I wanted to see how you would react," said Mai. "You worked within the bounds of the law to achieve good. Your reaction to the evil that cannot be punished is to store up retribution. Make preparations to destroy them at a more convenient hour.


    "I wanted to see how you would react if you faced an evil deed that you could not wait for. But which was perfectly legal."


    "What do you think of my solution?" asked William, smiling faintly.


    "I liked it," said Mai.


    "Have you tested anyone else this way?" asked William.


    Mai paused. "Now that you mention it, Tanith saw the same exhibit."


    "How did she react?" asked William.


    "She killed the audience and the woman and left in disgust," said Jehair. "She felt they were all beyond redemption. The audience for being mastered by someone completely helpless. And the woman for enjoying being a slave.


    "So, what are you bound by, William Gabriel? And could you give them up if you need to?"


    "Was that even real?" asked William.


    "Likely, the answer is yes and no," said Felix.


    "So, uh, are you actually going to use the gaming table?" asked Mai. "Because we have a limited time, and I brought cards."


    "No," said William.


    "Oh well," said Mai. "We''ll call your payment the undead you''ll have to kill on your way out as well as in."


    "What undead?" asked William.


    Mai shuffled the cards in her deck before drawing five in a moment and raising them before her face. "The cards tell me that Sylvar is furious at your earlier defiance.


    "You''re going to be heavily attacked on the road as soon as you leave this Carnival." She swayed her hip, and the cards flew from her hand to spin around her in a whirlwind. "I could call them off if you''d like.


    "All you need to do is ask."


    "I think I''ll take my chances, milady," said William.


    "You might not want to be so quick to refuse," said Mai. "A working relationship with the Sorcerer''s Guild can help House Gabriel."


    "Perhaps," said William. "But I will accept no favors from one who meets with me by proxy."


    "Fine by me," said Mai. "But don''t say I didn''t warn you. I had a really good time tonight." And she leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Hope you live.


    "Oh, and uh... when you learn about the traitor, remember I could have told who they were."


    Traitor? So, Jehair, then. Best not to say much now; he had to learn the nature of her treachery without alerting her.


    Then spinning around, her cloak wrapped around her form and vanished. And so they continued their journey with better spirits than ever. And birds began to sing and brought to mind the symbolism of what William saw.


    And then the undead were upon them.

 Chapter Twenty-Four: Reprisal

    The singing was a mistake.


    No sooner was it done than William''s throat wrenched. Out of the hills came many undead, snarling in clear hatred. Jehair sprang up a hill with them behind, and at the top, they saw the sight of a town of stone and wood. A large hedge of thick thorns surrounded it, and the ground was greener. The buildings were better maintained, with strong roofs.


    But no one looked up their way.


    Above, the birds chirped unceasingly as the undead climbed the hill. Finally, out came William''s sword, and the birds chirped all the louder. Then blood was spilled.


    Claws went at William''s eyes, but he bashed and cut. Jehair hewed limb and neck as Felix moved swiftly. Body after body fell to earth while Massacre breathed her flame. Skeletons began to scale up, and some had bows. These launched arrows toward Massacre.


    William leaped between them and caught them on his shield as he hewed men down. Three were plunged in.


    "Massacre," said William. "Move out and get the archers!"


    And Massacre did, moving with immense speed away and then circling around. William caught two arrows for Jehair. Then he cleaved down two ghouls, and his sword broke the shield of a skeleton. The splinters clashed against his armor, and the bones broke under the weight, an arm coming off. Then the skeleton hit him with an axe. It rang off his helm, and he reeled back, slashing wildly.


    Falling against the tree, he shielded himself from many claws as he tried to ward them off. Lashing out, his sword bit into one with a stab, and another cut them back. Inching his way up the wall, he hacked and slashed, praying to Elranor that Felix and Jehair were alive.


    Yet he could see nothing past his enemies.


    "Elranor, give me strength," said William, slashing as his heart fluttered. "Elranor, guide my sword." His blade cleaved down two as bodies piled up to his knees. "Elranor, grant me victory."


    Soon enough, he was up to his thighs in bodies and thought it might be his fate to be entombed beneath corpses. But Felix appeared in his shadows, cloak slashed and cut all over him. He fought like a madman now, hewing back the undead, and William kicked to try and free himself from the press. Then, getting free, he charged, attacked, and saw Jehair was untouched, spinning back.


    Cleaving down one after another, they saw Massacre striking in the distance. It was a bit lighter now than it had been. Yet even knowing that drew more rage, the undead came all the faster. With each one they struck down, the bodies piled up so that the hatred became almost palpable. No joy came from these corpses as their ghosts or whatever drove them departed.


    Only grim determination and hatred.


    "For Elranor!" cried a voice. "For the Heir of Kings!"


    And over the hill came a halfling in shining armor on wolfback. With him was another, younger, with a spear on a white wolf. They stabbed with lances that struck down much undead. Massacre came before them, and soon they had broken up the undead. Then, throwing themselves from wolfback, they drew swords. The older fought with Jehair, while the younger fought with Felix. Both wore helmets that obscured their faces, but they fought well. The older was striking alongside Jehair and nearly as good. And with them came Jaina, of all people, tossing flames about to burn the undead.


    William, not to be outdone, raised his sword and attacked. The undead was cringing, but he''d give them more than a stand. "Felix, Massacre, Jehair, to me! Into battle!"


    And then he charged, hewing down all he could. Massacre went with him and Felix close behind. The others had no choice but to follow, and so they drove the undead before them. Down the hill they pushed them, the press of bodies turned against them. The creatures were ill-prepared for the onslaught.


    So that soon they were driven in. Jehair and her companion were the finest blades on the field, leaving a path of carnage behind them. Pleasure filled William, and even satisfaction as he cut and cut and cut. Soon the undead was losing cohesion, having no idea how to deal with an onslaught. Broken and shattered, they fled.


    The undead, these mindless and utterly self-destructive beasts had fled from battle.


    And all saw it, even in the village far below.


    "My thanks to you, gentlemen," said William. "We were hard pressed before your aid. And you as well, Jaina."


    "Well met indeed," said the older, taking off his helm. "I am Sir Frederick; with me is my squire, Ronald. I don''t believe we met in the Khasmir Campaign."


    "Pleased to meet you," said Ronald, offering a hand. He had red hair and freckles and looked to be a nice sort of person. William did not take this for granted.


    William took it. Halflings were more familiar than most nobility. "Do you walk here often?"


    "More of late," said Frederick. "With the bandits driven off or pacified, we''ve come here. Our focus is mostly on protecting travelers who get in over their heads. You see, it doesn''t count if you help a battle already in progress." Halfling standards grizzled Frederick with a noble face.


    "Admiral?" asked William.


    "The more undead you kill, the more of a target you become, and the more your enemies take an interest," said Jaina. "I''ve never seen someone deliberately seeking a fight, though. But then again, I haven''t been here long.


    "Sir Frederick was heading out, and I thought I''d help."


    "Well, every bit of help is useful," said William. And he looked up to the tree and the hedges. Was it only his imagination, or were these hedges growing greener? The tree looking a bit healthier. There was even some green grass. "What business brings you here, milady?"


    "I was sent out to observe the situation here," said Jaina, stretching in a motion that sent her bosom into motion. "Mother is concerned Neral Dinis might be making more than defensive moves. This place has gotten badly out of hand.


    "This kind of attack was unheard of in a skirmish."


    "How do you fight undead?" asked William.


    "Well, the usual way," said Ronald before falling silent.


    "Go ahead," said William.


    "The usual way," said Ronald. "Is for a distraction to draw off their troops. Then you kill the leaders, and it throws the undead into chaos. The other way is to bypass them or play other undead against them.


    "Undead win wars of attrition."


    "Why?" asked William.


    "They have no fear of death," said Jaina. "They only withdraw when they''re ordered to. You can kill a thousand of them and not disorient them. Kill a hundred people, and everyone becomes miserable.


    "Once an undead infestation becomes serious, full-scale extermination is backbreaking. It''s usually easier to kill the leaders and let the locals hunt them." She paused. "Are you planning to make a repeat of this?


    "They''ll escalate if you keep prodding them. This was only a skirmish.


    "Don''t even think about trying to do this again. You won''t get lucky forever."


    William nodded. "I understand."


    "On a brighter note," said Frederick. "Adrian Wrynncurth told me to look for you. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "He wishes to end this feud as much as anyone. I believe you''ll receive a favorable reception when you meet."


    "I fear my friend, Tanith, was half-mad when she reached Gel Carn," said William. "She has since been disciplined and saved many from demons."


    "That is well," said Frederick. "But I do not think she will be welcome in Gel Carn again.""I assure you, she will not care," said William. "She had some very harsh condemnations of the defense of the realm.


    "You know Jehair, of course?"


    "We have met before," said Frederick. "We meet again under less hostile circumstances."


    "I was simply carrying out my responsibilities as a mercenary," said Jehair. "And a druid."


    Frederick''s eyes narrowed. "You knew what you were doing was wrong, or you would not have bothered to take them by such roads."


    "With respect, Sir Frederick, my companions and I have been taking many indirect roads. So we might heal others of the plague," said William. Or was he talking about someone else? "I seek danger and the opportunity to do good deeds and make a name for myself."


    "You shall have both. This land has plenty," said Frederick. "The Tournament of Kings is being delayed a bit in light of the crisis, so you should have time to meander. Shipment problems and also a consideration for the time getting here.


    "For now, I will take you to the nearest village.


    "Ghouls are savage and easily killed, but they will soon return in greater numbers."


    And they began to walk toward the village.


    "How have they bolstered their ranks?" asked William.


    "Blackfear, like Antion, is a nexus," said Jaina. "The dead rise here, but people here burn their dead. See you over there. "William saw a group of people burning bodies in a field strewn with ashes. There were also fields of wheat beyond, where men were tending to them now in preparation for harvest. "But the undead come here from many different realms. When they are killed in great numbers, the only result is that even more come to attack.


    "Several attempts have been made to wholly eradicate them.


    "All ended in failure. You make initial gains, but over time they just overwhelm you.


    "Andoa did the best job of it and eventually handed it over to Neral Dinis. Neral Dinis historically is one of the more reasonable vampires.


    "And there have been no outright invasions since. So he was a good choice up until now."


    "A vampire is never a good choice," said Jehair.


    "To be fair," said William. "Most of his actions have been defensive."


    "You don''t know his actions," said Jehair. "I saw them.


    "And it was the chief reason I took up the career I did. Why else should I wander the lands, bitter and alone, working with thieves and cutthroats." Then she halted. "We''re being pursued again. They''re coming from the hills."


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Frederick looked back in surprise. "Again? You''ve certainly enraged someone, William. I''d get out of this place while you can."


    "Do we fight?" asked Felix, looking over the path. "There are other hills to die on."


    Jehair pointed.


    William followed and saw a field of beautiful flowers. They were stretching into the distance beneath the morning sun. There were red and white and had fresh dew on them.


    He knew that anyone in them would be devoured. "Wait, those will eat us alive."


    "They might if you were alone," said Jehair. "But the Flower Maiden has permitted us to pass; we can cross them at will. Our enemy will have to go far around or walk across.


    "Now come, and I shall make a spell."


    And kneeling down, William looked to the path and the hilly country. The undead was crawling from the hills like many insects, and an eerie pale light surrounded them. As if power was pushing them forward. He guessed their numbers were now in the hundreds, perhaps far more. Instead of rage, he sensed eagerness and hunger as if anticipating a meal.


    Jaina raised a hand and summoned a flame as the workers ignored them. Not one mentions or helps, or attempts to move. The sphere was hurled forward and exploded amid the swarms; many scattered on fire. More came, and another sphere of fire landed among them, but in vain.


    No matter how many fireballs Jaina threw, they kept coming. And some were now on fire. A sense of joy and hope came to William from those that died. But hope for what?


    "Do these creatures have emotions?" asked William, shifting to a stance.


    "I read," said Ronald. "That sometimes they reflect the emotions of their master. Someone is looking forward to killing us. You have any old enemies here?"


    "Neral Dinis, I suppose," said William as Jehair began to emanate light. "Although Sylvar may have manifested to send these after me. She seemed irritated at our survival." The light was getting brighter as the undead came in ever greater numbers. He guessed near a thousand, and the flowers beckoned, opening.


    "What are you doing?" asked Felix.


    "Summoning the energies of life into myself and projecting them," said Jehair. "Think of it as a kind of... divine light. The undead are drawn to it." She stood up as they neared.


    "And we lead them across the flowers," guessed William.


    Together they sprinted across the flowers.


    As they did, William remembered when they had tried to devour them utterly. Kiyora had nearly been eaten, and the smell had enchanted them. Now they were racing as far as they could, yet it seemed they really were being allowed through. Behind them, William saw the undead near at hand and gaining.


    Then they crossed the threshold and screams ensued. William whirled around and saw the undead being grabbed. The vines and tendrils grabbed them and pulled them down all at once. Each individual had to fight against it, and none helped the other. Soon they were torn to shreds. Soon enough, they were all pulled down into the flowers and gone from sight.


    "Hardly a sporting battle, but it will make things safer for a time," said Frederick.


    "I don''t care as long as we''re alive," said Jaina. More undead were rushing in to be devoured, yet no emotion came from this. It was as though the Flower Maiden was devouring all the life energy.


    "Slaying undead allows their energies to return to the land," said Jehair. "In so doing, it increases the health of the land. The more we slay, the more life returns, and the harder it will be for them to come here.


    "The land shall be restored a bit by this. Well done, all of you."


    "Yes, but the dark energies of withering just pour in here anyway," said Jaina. "So it is a constant battle against decay itself. And Neral Dinis would never allow things to continue to that point. Once you start really presenting a threat, the undead all gets serious. Then they start using strategies and such, and things become a nightmare."


    "What spirits do you wield power from?" asked William.


    "I''ve got certain natural powers of my own," said Jaina. "A kinship with the elements, if you will."


    The undead ceased to flow into the flowers, and some halted and then were recalled. Frederick nodded to Ronald. "...These, at least, shall harm no one else. Come, let''s head to the village of Trias. It is just north of the Border Hills and stands within sight of Neral Dinis'' castle.


    "Are you beginning to regret coming this way?"


    The wolves of Ronald and Frederick loped a little to the side. They seemed to have stayed out of the main fighting.


    "We''ve slain many creatures that will never harm anyone again and done much good," said William. "Of course, I don''t regret it."


    "I''m pleased to hear as much," said Jaina. "This is a one-day bouquet of flowers I''d rather not get."


    Laughter, real, genuine laughter.


    But Trias did not let them in. All the doors were shut and barred against them, and they had to move on. No one said anything, and William made a mental note of it. He''d remember this welcome next time. The worst part was that it seemed like such a nice town, and the people looked well-fed.


    "They don''t want to be associated with undead slayers," said Jaina. "They''re probably adopting a policy of living and letting live."


    "We need supplies," said Felix. "Are there any merchants here?"


    "Well," said Jaina. "There is Octavian De Chevlon.


    "He owns an outpost that usually outfits adventurers who won''t be allowed here. Their prices are high, though; can it wait."


    "You never wait to resupply, Jaina," said William. "Ever.


    "If you run out of supplies in the wilderness, you''re dead. Or at least I will be utterly miserable for several days. And you''ll be taken advantage of by anyone you buy from."


    "As opposed to being taken advantage of now?" asked Jaina.


    "At least we can decide to move on if his task is too important," said William.


    They went to the nearby outpost.


    It turned out to be an old tower with crenellations and a wooden storehouse built next to it. And it turned out that, for once, they weren''t cheated in any way. All of the prices were reasonable, and nothing went wrong.


    However, as they finished, a door opened. Into sight came a woman with strawberry blonde hair in a black, concealing robe. She had leather gloves on her hands, and her hair fell long over her outfit. On her back was a huge axe.


    "I''m telling you, we need a buyer, Rubia," said a nondescript man.


    "Baroness Saphra is fully aware you need a buyer," said Rubia, shifting her hair. "She is simply determined not to be it. The same for House Hawkthorne, the origins of these slaves are questionable. And with the attention drawn by Ascorn, it would be potentially disastrous."


    "Neral Dinis needs bodies, doesn''t he?" asked the man.


    "This is true, Octavian," said Rubia. "But the Baroness De Chevlon is in charge of slaves. Only slaves, mind you. She controls which we buy and which we don''t. She has determined that this scheme of yours is not her problem."


    "She''s my daughter," said Octavian. "Kith and kin."


    "You forfeited your authority over here when you passed over the position as Baron," said Rubia. "You laid down your authority over Blackfear as useless territory. So now she has that authority.


    "She might not be able to project power beyond the castle itself. However, she does not have to buy your product. The source is questionable. It could backfire, and she gains little by feeding Neral Dinis."


    "Does family mean nothing to her?" asked Octavian. "It''s my neck on the line.


    "We are family."


    "Saphra De Chevlon''s love for family is exactly the same as yours," said Rubia. "Nonexistent. You''ve never taken her into any of your counsels or provided her opportunities to advance. Not once has she eaten with you or been consulted on the House she should be ruling.


    "Often, you have dismissed her in private.


    "Now you ask that you commit political suicide for you.


    "You and your brothers can pay for your own blunders. Find a different buyer."


    "But we rise or fall together in this," said Octavian.


    "No, we don''t," said Rubia. "Raynald De Chevlon is the most well-known member of our House, and you three have made him an outcast. Baroness De Chevlon is the leader, and you have shut her out of leadership.


    "Neral Dinis is our seneschal, but you have seen him and our best subordinates imprisoned. And you three have no particular accomplishments of note. At least besides turning in your own Father."


    "He was a serial killer," said Octavian.


    "We do not care what he was," said Rubia. "You three brothers do cooperate, but you have no hierarchy. Nor do you treat our allies as friends or enemies as a nemesis.


    "You sold your birthright for political convenience, to distance yourself from your heritage. And not content to leave your rule in the hands of lesser men, you actively hamstrung our efforts to run it. You have no respect for House De Chevlon, do not follow our ways, and treat your lineage as ink on a page.


    "You''re only invoking House De Chevlon now because it has become a problem.


    "Raynald wants nothing to do with this House. When Sir Gabriel made peace overtures, you shut them down outright. Have you any conception of how powerful an alliance you sneered at? And for what?


    "Your finances are ruined, your reputation soon to be mud.


    "No, you have no right to invoke House De Chevlon.


    "House De Chevlon does not exist until Baroness House De Chevlon says it exists."


    "We''re already in debt to Lilas," said Octavian. "He''s taking over everything. He owns the rights to fields out there. They grow medical plants to deal with the plague.


    "Pretty soon, he''ll be selling the plants everyone needs.


    "If we ask for his contacts, he''ll own us. So you''ll owe him too."


    "Your information is antiquated," said Rubia. "Lilas has fled the city, and Rius is dead. The merchants and notable figures are all fighting for who will be appointed to the position.


    "Given the nature of Harlenorian politics, he will probably soon be dead. And the healing spree by the Paladin Order will soon make his investment a waste."


    "Excuse me," said William coming forward. "My name is William Gabriel.


    "I do not have any ill will toward House De Chevlon. I am just trying to get to Gel Carn. My actions against your brothers were never a vendetta."


    Octavian halted. "Well, that is a relief.


    "Anything I can do."


    "What is this about a slaving operation?" asked William.


    Octavian sighed. "I run a business moving arms from the realm of Lord Tarsus to other domains. But when a horde of carnivorous plants started eating miners, the mines shut down. So I didn''t have anything to sell.


    "I had to take a loan from Lamech.


    "Not someone you want to cross. He might send... Aklus after me." He shuddered, and William wondered who this Aklus could be to terrify him so. "Lilas said he wanted me to sell the slaves he brought in. None of them have been brought in yet, but I''ve been trying to get a contract."


    "Who is Aklus?" asked William.


    Octavian shuddered. "One of Lamech''s enforcers. He came here from Walesan, a colony of the nation of Bretus in Kadan.


    "He is usually left in charge of things when Lamech has to go out on business. The man is pure, brutality, and violent. You don''t want to mess with him."


    "Where is he now?" asked William.


    "He usually operates on the coast of Antion," said Octavian. "He works as a go-between for Sorn as well. His main job is smuggling, moving slaves in from the islands of power, that sort of thing.


    "Everyone is terrified of him except Garrick Estov."


    "And why isn''t he?" asked William.


    "Garrick Estov fears nothing," said Octavian. "And he''s bound for the Tournament of Kings now. So if you go there, you''ll have your work cut out for beating him.


    "But that has nothing to do with Aklus. I hope he never gets control of Lamech''s operation. Arkan Lantan at least keeps people in power who are focused on making money. This never would have happened in the days of the Fighters Guild.


    "The two-hour massacre ruined everything. Alchives was rising fast in the ranks of the Fighter''s Guild. Faster than Raynald had, and that was too much.


    "Next thing I hear, Raynald has killed the Guildmaster, his second in command, and the people funding it. The entire organization is absorbed into the Thieves Guild."


    "Raynald has a vengeful streak," said William. "It is an undeniable trait of his, and what you describe is a matter of public knowledge. However, he did cripple the Fighter''s Guilds. It may have been because of their connection to Neral Dinis.


    "But there is no point in denying it happened."


    "You don''t take much after your mentor," said Octavian.


    "I deeply respect and admire Raynald," said William. "That does not make us alike. On the contrary, we have many differing qualities."


    "On a separate note, you''ll be happy to know Lamech has been sent to prison," said Jaina.


    "He has?" asked Octavian, horror in his tone.


    "Yes, Janice, myself, and Grace took him there after William defeated him in battle," said Jaina. "I believe his organization''s days are numbered. So long as you run down the clock, you should be perfectly safe."


    "Well, that''s a relief for me," said Octavian. "I owed him money.


    "It could be very bad for many people if there''s a power struggle over who will take his place. Gang wars are nasty, and Arkan was brought in to end them. A church messenger, Joffrey, came down here with many armed men. He said he was looking into some business ventures. I''m beginning to think that many people Lamech wants to be stored aren''t in debt.


    "But he''ll throw me off a tall building if I don''t get them sold. At least, that''s if he gets out of prison."


    "So long as you get out of Blackfear," said Jaina. "You can just wait until the problem resolves itself. I''ll write a letter and get you to shelter in Magicora if you''d like." She drew out a broach from her cloak. "Take this broach to my master, Anton.


    "He will know it is from me.


    "But, in exchange, Lady Delenay must be respected henceforth."


    "Of course," said Octavian.


    Other than that, things went very well.


    William was just pleased not to be scorned and shunned a third time. At least until they got to the next village and found it less fortified than Trias. And far emptier.


    "...So this town was abandoned too," said Jehair sadly. "I''d hope it would stand a while longer."


    "We''ve passed the wards. They won''t come past there," said Jaina. "They''re still intact.


    "I remember setting these, and they hold still. Though, at one time, many people lived here. I grew up here." She paused and walked inside the building. A moment later, she came out. "All the valuables are gone.


    "This wasn''t done by the undead.


    "It was people. Slavers likely."


    "Why would there be no struggle?" asked William. "Surely, someone must have fought."


    But no one had.


    Not one broken window or damaged furniture; everything was as is. The shrine to Elranor was alone and ill-tended. Weeds were growing out from between the flagstones around it. From the looks of things, they had not even put up a struggle. As if some dark spell was at work. How could an entire people be taken so easily?


    "People in these parts," said Frederick. "Largely, just keep their heads down. The undead don''t come into the towns. And sending an army or raids out here would be suicide."


    "They don''t have anything all that valuable. Nothing worth the effort of raiding," said Ronald.


    "No trade routes run through here. So what could be worth a raid?"


    "People can be very valuable alive or dead," said Jaina. "Especially people in isolated places who could disappear without anyone knowing. All you''d need is the cooperation of someone untouchable. Someone who by his very nature must mediate between divine powers."


    "Cirithil," realized William. "The High Priest."


    "...As you said, William," said Jehair. "Cowardly and a poor survival strategy.


    "We will miss the people of Trias soon. We shall miss their songs, memories, and what they could have told us."


    "I''ll look for tracks," said Frederick. "We may know which way the blackhearts. Ronald and I shall pursue them if we find them and see if we might rescue them. If they are dead, then we shall avenge them."


    "Bring the word of this to King Faras when you have the chance," said Jehair. "It may be that his people have witnesses that could be brought forth."


    They searched about and did find tracks and raced off at once.


    So the company now sat in the old inn, drinking from ale left in barrels. William realized it was not old at all. Which meant Frederick might yet overtake them.


    "My guess," said Jaina. "Is that the High Priest never came down here at all? Men who bear his seal are under the protection of all gods. His messengers could be sent across the border with a large force, enough for a raid.


    "Once they arrived, they could simply take who they wanted." She drank. "But this is all speculation. We''d need witnesses and more."


    "I have some evidence," said William. "But I''m not going to tell anyone without a good reason. What about Elranor? His authority is being used to enslave his subjects.


    "That is a violation of unprecedented scale. Perhaps he could be used as a witness."


    "Call down a god as a witness?" laughed Jaina. "That would be nice."


    "Doable," said William. "Gods take direct form all the time.


    "His word would be unquestionable if Elranor could appear and prove himself."


    "Well, I think perhaps we should leave that judgment to him," said Jehair in amusement.


    "What do we do now?" asked William finally.


    "We could go to the castle of Neral Dinis?" asked Felix.


    "It was merely an observation," said William, leaning back. "Maius, I don''t suppose you could make a sudden and convenient appearance here."


    Maius did appear, in a flash, spinning around and leaning forward to give him a very nice view. But he was too miserable to appreciate. He drank instead.


    "Nice way of calling me down, handsome," said Maius. "So, what can I do for you?"


    "The people who dwell in and around Blackfear have shattered their civilization. They have long labored to rebuild it," said William. "They have little hope, and as they grow, I fear their neighbors may move against them.


    "I ask that you watch over them and see that the civilizations continue to grow and prosper."


    Maius shifted. "Um... okay, I was hoping you''d sleep with me. Not that you''d ask me to look after one of history''s most cheerless and gloomy lands."


    "You are the Goddess of Revelry," said William. "Where do you think you are most needed, if not in the most cheerless places?"


    Maius nodded and stood up. "Hmm. Usually, I only show up at drunken parties and formal dinners for corrupt officials.


    "I could make some stops down here. Why the long face?"


    William told her what had happened since their last encounter.


    Maius seemed a bit disturbed. "Selling your own people into slavery isn''t normal out here?"


    "It''s not supposed to be normal," said William. "And if you asked any ordinary person, they''d say it''s not."


    "Well, that''s news to me," said Maius. "I thought that was just how you people did things. Themious doesn''t have that tradition, so I didn''t want to mess with local customs."


    "I don''t think any land has that tradition," said Jaina, drinking as well.


    "I''ll see what I can do," said Maius, smiling. "This actually sounds like fun."


    And she vanished in a flash.


    "...That was a waste of a favor," said Felix.


    "Felix, what exactly do you think I should have done?" asked William.


    "Well, I suppose there is little use for the Goddess of Revelry. So not much," said Felix.


    "Do you have a grudge against her or something?" asked Jaina.


    "Everyone in Calisha has one against her," said Felix. "Much of Baltoth''s early career was dedicated to rooting out her drunken and savage rights. Things like this happened all the time in the old days. She''d mesmerize entire villages and drag them halfway across a continent in revelry.


    "Then she''d lose interest, and they''d have to walk back. They couldn''t do their jobs.


    "Revelry is not good pleasure. It deadens the delights of intellect; it destroys the virtues of those who drink it. It renders your emotions unstable and distances you from who you are. Worst of all, it causes good men to lose control of their actions and drives them to commit unthinkable acts.


    "Men were crucified in the old days for crimes they did not mean to commit, simply because they were drunk. Everyone knew it was not their fault, but the law had to be maintained. So the logical solution would be to outlaw all alcohol.


    "We drink coffee instead. Ruscow has many coffee houses, which are local meeting spaces."


    "I''ll drink to that," said Jaina.


    And she downed an entire tankard and refilled it. It was the first of many, and William enjoyed it despite himself. In the morning, they would set out at a breakneck pace beneath a gray sky. For now, they enjoyed themselves.

 Chapter Twenty-Five: Global Village

    The journey took them along a desolate road with leaning fences and forsaken fields. Many cobblestones were missing from it. The underbrush was growing up at the edges. Even so, life seemed to be returning to this place, the plants becoming greener and less barren. The skies seemed a little less bleak.


    It was clear that the plants Lilas had set up could grow well here. However, you could see them growing out of place, as though dark powers were passing them by. Felix became increasingly irritated as they walked past them. Jaina seemed concerned as well. Jaina kept checking her book as she did, frowning cutely.


    "What is it?" asked William.


    "These are all medicinal herbs," noted Jehair. "Lilas must have known what he was selling."


    "Not necessarily," said William.


    "Let''s hope so," said Jaina. "Jehair tells me these plants are ideal for treating Baras'' Bane."


    "Don''t be too quick to make that accusation," said William. "Father has always taught me that by the time you face an enemy, it is best if they are already defeated."


    "Perhaps so," said Jehair. "It is said that there is a sword somewhere around here, driven into the earth for a worthy elven hand. The Singing Sword. None has drawn it because the elves are driven away."


    They had many discussions as they walked. William soon realized that Jaina''s education in Magicora had been extensive. Though her knowledge of history was less than his, she knew much of herbs and remedies. It also seemed she hoped to become a Sorcerer''s guild member someday.


    Here and there, they would find green patches that became increasingly common. William could only assume that there were other adventurers here. Ones'' who had been spurred into action.


    If so, they did not find any of them.


    But they were attacked several more times by undead over the next few days and often would have made stands. The nights were filled with the howling of wolves. William would often look out and see them running beyond the light. Sometimes he thought he saw a blonde-haired woman clad in a dark robe just beyond the firelight.


    Yet usually, they had to fight. So they looked for defensive hills to rest on. They left behind them circles of bodies around their campfire.


    Often they would be woken to find the enemy at hand, and soon they were tired. Many villages they walked through were abandoned. Others were defensive and hardly spoke to them save to barter supplies. The people were obviously terrified and hiding from something, carrying weapons. There was evidence that the high priest''s minions had been at once. There were carriage tracks and armored footprints.


    William only prayed that some other power would rescue them, for it was obvious he was too late. The villages that were inhabited had many people with dead eyes and unnerve. Jaina took notes during this and usually stayed out of the fighting.


    Then, quite abruptly, William came to an outpost by a crossroads.


    It was a circle of stone with a house in the center. There were hundreds of bodies by it, most of them undead. But twelve of them were human and clad in armor, and they had not begun to decay. Six others were priests, clad in red robes, and were killed by a sword. And among them was the corpse of Joffrey, hewn by many strikes, everyone except the face. Several carriages with dead drivers were a little ways off. They held cages behind the oxen as if to take people. But the cages had been broken open and turned over.


    However, the oxen had been released and were grazing to one side unharmed.


    "Footprints show many people fled away from these cages," said Jehair. "They took the weapons from the guards and their supplies and ran."


    "Who could have killed this many men?" asked Jaina.


    "We seem to have found him," said Felix.


    Sitting on a rock, drinking, was a bald, thuggish-looking man with bleary eyes who looked drunk. His sword was bloodstained, and he seemed to be trying to wipe it off with a handkerchief. All while drinking from the skin of wine. The red liquid slipped down their lips, and his eyes were bleary. How could he drink here with the stench of death and undead?


    "Who are you?" asked William.


    "Ham Hawkthorne," said the man.


    "And who are these men?" asked William. "Why have you killed them?"


    "Slavers," said Ham, motioning in the opposite direction from a nearby village. This one looked decently populated, and the people were working. They seemed to be branding oxen. "They said they wanted to get into the village over there and that I was a fool. So I hacked them to pieces.


    "Then I sold the oxen for wine. I think."


    "Some of these men were priests," said William.


    "Don''t care," said Ham, drinking again. "Some church. Never do anything for me."


    "How much wine have you consumed?" asked Jehair. "And why are you doing it here?"


    "Yes," said Ham. "Third skin today. After I killed them, I think. Not sure how long I''ve been here. I''m working through it while waiting for Varsus and Reginald."


    This was a waste of time.


    "Felix," said William. "Check their corpses. We''ll see if we can get them a more or less decent burial."


    "The ghouls ought to have devoured them long ago," said Jehair.


    "Have you considered that Varsus and Reginald might have decided not to wait? These crossroads are infested by the undead?" asked Jaina.


    "Reginald said to stay here and wait," said Ham.


    "Reginald De Chevlon wouldn''t lie," conceded William, who had met him. He was a good friend of Varsus.


    "Flies are not touching these bodies," said Jehair. "Nature abhors them."


    William looked and saw as much. The priest and their company had no birds around them, and their bodies were untouched. There wasn''t even the stink of death about them as was expected. And it was challenging to think of them as people now that they were here.


    Who was this person?


    Joffrey?


    Some magic was at work here.


    "Don''t tell me what to do!" said Ham before throwing an empty wineskin at his face.


    It slammed against William''s helmet, and he reminded himself this could be a murder. Ham had cut these men down for the pettiest of reasons. As a mere impulse. "Why did you kill these men?"


    "They cut me off in traffic," said Ham. "I need another drink." Then he abruptly broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. "Why did you die... Why did you die..."


    And he lay down and fell asleep.


    William looked up. Then to the bodies lying there. Felix took out several documents from Joffrey''s purse and some personal effects. Why didn''t William care? He felt as if this were insignificant. As if Ham has broken a toy or something.


    It was wrong and sick.


    "Come, let''s leave drunkards'' business to drunkards," said Felix.


    "We can''t just leave them for vultured," said William. A hiss of hatred filled his mind while Ham began to snore.


    "The ghouls despoil corpses," said Jehair. "Usually, one either raises a cairn for heroes. Or, more likely, simply piles the dead and burns them. Though that would take some doing."


    "Let me," said Jaina.


    And raising her staff, she sent forward a bolt of flame. First to Joffrey, then the others so that they were soon burning. Yet the fire seemed to recoil and fizzle, and Jaina flinched, her spell halting. "Come on, Mol''Tan, it''s just flesh.


    "You can burn this."


    Mol''Tan, however, was ill-content to listen. And Jaina had to work at it for some time, and the bodies simply refused to burn. Eventually, as if forced by reality, the priests began to shrivel up like dried fruit. It was hard to think of them as people, but eventually, it was done.


    "Some dark magic is at work here," said Jehair. "Dehumanizing a person should take effort. However, being forced to do so on sight is nearly impossible.


    "What do you remember of Joffrey?"


    "He''s part of House Atravain," said Jaina. "An uh... distant cousin, I think. Several times removed."


    "Distant," William halted. "Why don''t you care? Surely you must have spoken to him."


    "I didn''t," said Jaina. "I was hardly aware he even existed.


    "I''ve met him before, quite frequently. Even before becoming a Bishop, I can''t remember what he was like. It''s like his face is blurred in my mind. A man like him ought to have wanted to use his family connections. So why did it never come up?" S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I don''t think you ever met the real Joffrey," said Jehair. "Something evil is at work here. And I don''t want to stay around any longer. It''s unnatural."


    As they walked on, Ham woke up and began to sing.


    William saw a blade driven into the hill above the village. It seemed to send forth a song that came with the wind. It was faint, but as they walked, they drew nearer. There were clouds in the sky, and it was brighter than ever. It was a particularly dim and miserable day by most standards.


    Something had to be done to ensure the momentum continued.


    "What is that sword up there?" asked William.


    "Do not go near it," said Jehair. "That is the Singing Sword. It rests on the hill, over a great barrow. Within that barrow, many unholy creatures are trapped. Once, they often came out to feast on the blood of the living.


    "But Arengeth and I managed to seal it using the sword. The Sun Spirit sends its rays down upon it and powers the spell. And at night, the moon provides enough light to maintain it. Yet it is less effective, and we must be indoors near flames if we want to avoid a fight."


    "You journeyed with Gail Arengeth?" asked Felix.


    "Yes, her and Pandora the Sorceress, though I am hardly alone there," said Jehair. "He has had many companions. There was a time when he often came into Antion. But since the days of Andoa II, his main focus has been on Escor. That last time he came here was in the events leading up to the battle of Desora.


    "I lived here once before I began journeying as an adventurer.


    "It was long ago that I met Gail Arengeth when he was on an errand from elsewhere. I was still before the age of bearing, and he told many stories of adventures and things. And I decided I wanted to be an adventurer.


    "That is why I fled south, down Savior''s Run, then spent some time as a weaver in Antion. Then, when the criminal gangs became bad, I went south along the King''s highway and came here. From there, I lived here and learned to hunt the undead under the locals.


    "I became very good at it and spent a long time doing it before eventually traveling into the realm of the Wood Elves. That was where I was taught the ways of a druid. But that was before the Escorian Wars when Neral Dinis was not Lord of that place.


    "Neral Dinis was chosen to take his place. Apparently, he has a contact in Gel Carn."


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Who?" asked William.


    "Fayn Benarus, I believe," said Jehair. "Or Hawkthorne if you prefer the less interesting name.


    "She is the niece of the Steward of Gel Carn by his brother''s marriage with a De Chevlon woman. Quite intelligent and not at all a good person.


    "Now come, fearless leader. I have a friend here if he has not moved or died."


    "Probably both," muttered Felix.


    Jehair actually laughed at that. It was nice to hear her laugh.


    "Actually," said Felix. "While you were talking to Ham, I checked their packs. I found this among the priests."


    William took a letter from him and opened it.


    "A letter from Cirithil," said William. "To Joffrey.


    "You are to begin gathering my flock in as large numbers as possible. Remember to preach primarily to those areas far from help. Remember that our ministry is to be given to people without other hope.


    "Focus your efforts on people without real focus, with no particular place in the world or will to live. Remember, no word can get out. I cannot guarantee complete safety. You should be reminded that my seal is proof against the gods. Nagos expects perfect results.


    "I intend to slaughter a few sheep to ensure success here. And some hungry beggars are expecting a meal. Refrain from disappointing them.


    "-Cirithil."


    "Cirithil paints a much more menacing figure in these letters than he did before," said Jehair. "I wonder if he was not playing a role for Maius and the others rather than the other way around."


    "I sincerely doubt it," said William. "He would not have made that mistake if he were truly so menacing. While he might be competent in some things, I expect he is little but a frontman for the real powers.


    "He will be easily defeated once they are, and we should pay him no more mind."


    "Could this Nagos be funding this?" asked Jaina.


    "No," said William quickly. "Nagos is King of a distant island and would have no hold over the church."


    "We''ll have to find out what the operation was and how he was involved," said Jaina. "I guess something to do with slavery."


    Jehair nodded.


    She led them to an inn with a symbol of a rising sun on it. Over them was the Singing Sword, and they entered. Within, William saw the innkeeper watching as a barmaid served drinks. Elven, like a lot of others.


    "Lady Jehair, you are here?" said a voice, and William saw a forty-year-old, burly man with a long beard polishing a glance. "Thank Elranor, much has shifted since you dwelled in these lands."


    "Yes, for the present," said Jehair coming forward to the counter with William and Felix. Drinks were provided. "How have things gone, Fenus?"


    "Poorly, I''m afraid," said Fenus. "Things have gotten a great deal worse since you lived here. For a time, things were peaceful under Neral Dinis. But the undead began to grow in number, and many of our fighting men left for the wars.


    "Few returned, for they found new lands and lords in Artarq. Those of us that remain are protected by the Singing Sword. But I fear that they may soon be overwhelmed by the darkness."


    William looked upward and saw Arkan Lantan over by a table, not looking up. Yet he had several backup men standing by.


    William nodded and motioned to Felix. Then both of them moved over, and William sat across from him. Arkan was eating a humble meal quite happily. He saw a redheaded woman with a huge sword waiting on a table a little way off. Her hair was long, held out of her face by a blue headband, and she had green eyes. Her outfit was of red leather and left little to the imagination. It was actually of Themousian make; he''d seen similar armor in Mother''s trophies in Carn Gable. Was that Spirtana armor?


    Across from her on the table was that same blue-skinned creature from the Carnival of Souls. They tensed as William neared Arkan, a bodyguard, he guessed. He wondered who she was and remembered Anborn''s penchant for befriending such women.


    So, the blue-skinned girl had been working for the Thieves Guild. She had been an agent of some kind, observing events. Likely trying to get into William''s company for information from the start. From there, she''d moved to Cirithil and now had reported to Arkan.


    What was the connection to House Atravain? Or was it the Sorcerer''s Guild that she was working for? The latter seemed more likely; they would want someone to keep an eye on William''s progress. And Isriath had surely told them something of what had happened out of courtesy.


    Arkan knew what had been happening. He was well informed.


    No matter. The mystery could be solved later.


    "Arkan, how nice to see you alive and unhindered," said William. He saw several men nearby. The alternate William suggested he was very fine. But William dismissed this as absurd.


    "My apologies for disappointing you, Sir Gabriel," said Arkan. "Though I will admit, being at cross purposes has faced some serious problems. Some business has taken me out here to Blackfear, and we''ve journeyed for some time."


    "Might I inquire what it is?" asked William.


    "It is very little to it," said Arkan. "I came to meet with an associate of mine, and he is to meet me here. Jehair, you look at radiant as ever."


    "Flattery will get you nowhere, Arkan," said Jehair, smiling.


    "No, I suppose it will not," said Arkan.


    William looked to Felix, who put a hand on Jehair''s shoulder. "I must ask you to step back, Jehair. Now."


    Arkan motioned to his guards with a nod and they moved off.


    "Shall I bring some ale for you?" said an elven woman.


    "No, thank you," said William. "And make sure no one sits by us. In this company, they could be endangered by what they hear. So tell Jaina Atravain over there to remain there as a witness near the door. Now, Arkan Lantan, your business."


    Arkan sighed. "I can see I''m not going to become the loveable rogue of your group."


    "There is no such thing," said William.


    "Well, part of my business was simply to survey the land itself," said Arkan. "Blackfear has become increasingly less populated over the decades. People depart or are forced to leave or even disappear. And recently, large numbers of satyr tribes have been appearing and threatening everyone. Especially around the Black Mountain."


    "Has the High Priest been made aware of this?" asked William. "Isn''t this his job?"


    "Several messengers were sent out," said Arkan. "I fear he views his immunity to the ordinary rules more as a means to profit. Have you noticed the empty villages along the way? It seems that someone has been letting him do all that."


    "Was it you?" asked William.


    "I don''t deal in the slave trade," said Arkan. "Imogen hates it, and it''s a good way to lose her favor. That was why I took control of Montoya in the first place.


    "Although I confess, my coming meeting might involve it. The usual sort of meeting in these circumstances. I''m to meet some very important people in Castle Blackfear. Some of them you met at the party."


    The elf put down the cups. "Here you are, good masters."


    "I met Cirithil," said William. "He was disappointing."


    Was he supposed to become friends with this scoundrel? He''d rather see him at the noose.


    Arkan laughed. "Yes, few men turn more people from the church than the people who own the church. I''m afraid the clergy does behave like that, with one or two exceptions. It had cut into the faith of the populace a great deal."


    "...Have you considered not showing up?" asked William. Over in the corner, Jaina was writing. Jehair looked very, very worried. How did Jaina and her sisters fit into this?


    Was William supposed to be a rogue?


    If Arkan could support the names taken from Lamech, it could be a killing blow to the criminals. Arkan would live, and his subordinates all die. Then hopefully, he''d be assassinated by someone else.


    "What do you mean?" asked Arkan.


    "You might be arrested there," said William. The blue-skinned observer had been there for Cirithil being thrown out of the brothel. But she hadn''t seen the fight with Lamech, or Dunmoore taking him into custody. "That''s a friendly warning.


    "The situation to the north has escalated. Cirithil has made such a mockery of the church that it has led to a full-scale religious conflict. You''re likely to be used as a scapegoat at this rate. Jaina over there is acting as an observer; once she reports back, who can foresee the result."


    "Are you threatening me?" asked Arkan, voice cold.


    At that moment, the door was thrown open before William could even think of a reply. It hit the wall and bounced off with a crash. Into the room marched Lamech as lightning flashed behind him. He was clad in his black armor again and had his sword. Seeing him, he marched up to the table and stopped as if to be recognized.


    "Hello, William," said Lamech. And he sounded furious.


    "Lamech..." said William, hatred in his tone as his sword was out in a moment. The alternate William took Lamech off-guard by smiling and talking to him like an old friend. But how would that happen? Such an individual would never have defeated him. Not fairly, though he might have tricked him into hitting his own shield after running away. "By what devilry did you get out of prison, you murdering bastard?"


    Several of the guards covertly brought their hands near their swords. The blue-skinned girl turned her chair as though to watch the fight.


    "You were the warlock, William," said Lamech, calming somewhat as he saw Arkan. "When Princess Ansara locked me up, she sent me to hunt undead here!" Had the alternate William suggested he do that?


    Disgraceful.


    William raised his sword in rage. Lamech did the same, and they halted for a long moment. After that, things went very still, and Arkan touched Lamech''s shoulder. "Not now, gentlemen.


    "Obviously, the situation has changed. We shall alter our actions and go from thieves to adventurers."


    "Were you involved in the Healer''s Guild?" asked William.


    "Yes and no," said Arkan. "I was involved in founding the Healer''s Guild, but I was not the primary architect. Instead, I was a middleman for agents of Zigilus. I allowed the operation to focus on demon priests in one place. It grew a great deal and was protected from outside harm by the influence of Zigilus, a city to the far north.


    "This led to it overextending into the heartlands and other places. But, Zigilus was annihilated by the Legions of Dinis. With the loss of Zigilus, they also lost their main source of protection. I''m surprised the plantation owners didn''t destroy them long ago. But I gather they hated treating their slaves with dignity more than they liked being alive.


    "Stupidity is the one sin that is always punished eventually."


    "And this Demoration, what is it?" asked William.


    "A sort of... interdimensional group of merchants. They like to meddle in other people''s affairs," said Arkan. "Similar to the Sorcerer''s Guild in some ways. However, they operate in different locations.


    "Though that is a gross oversimplification. It is more a cluster of related interests than a single organization. They can be disruptive, but they''ll back off if you kill enough of their agents.


    "We were contemplating how best to do it." The blue-skinned girl rolled her eyes while Arkan gave a wary half-glance. "This is Vow, and Red Safara, freelance mercenaries.


    "Don''t mind them. They are simply looking after my safety."


    "I had thought you''d lose a great deal of money in these events," noted William, doubting it.


    "Actually, I''ve long since pulled my investments out of the Healer''s Guild," said Arkan. "Tavish moving their operations into the countryside closed my accounts. And they never wanted him because he operated on House Kern''s behalf. They are Gavin''s proxies in Antion and operate on his guidelines.


    "Most of their money has been going to House Suvvest in Sorn, who will likely cut off funding soon. With their losses here and war imminent, Sorn will spend a lot of money invading Dinis. And that will close the trade routes through the Islands of Power."


    "Who runs them?" asked William.


    "Well, originally, it was a man named Dakan, but he died in the siege of Zigilus," said Arkan. "Killed by a woman named Narcissa, who has refounded a new settlement in Kalthak. She is the one who has been declared their new leader.


    "Although I''m not even sure she knows she runs it. I suspect they have simply given her lip service and not made any contact."


    "Not entirely true," said Lamech. "A large segment of citizens from Zigilus were relocated to Antion from there. I''ve kept track of them. I believe they were supposed to take over things. But they had no leader to run their operations, so they mostly got absorbed into the populace.


    "A lot of them became prostitutes and very profitable ones."


    "I know something about how Zigildrazia operates," said William. "I''ve studied history. She usually grows a city to a level of power and depravity to lower the morality of the surrounding area. From there, she lets it be destroyed. Then moves her more competent people to another realm under a leader she raises.


    "One of her favorites, usually a blonde woman with a ponytail. It''s a sort of fixation for her. Though there is often a spare, usually with short hair."


    "I was there," said Jehair, voice grave. "I saw the siege of Zigilus, and I saw Narcissa and her sister. They matched that description.


    "Now, they refused to leave with the other Zigildrazians and instead fought. But they were on the verge of being destroyed. However, King Abdul Sahshir convinced the Legion to let them leave peacefully.


    "And from there, Abdul convinced Narcissa and her sister to resettle in Kalthak. So now they have a kind of hybrid status without any of the depravity. And it is working.


    "So it seems that Sahshir has done great damage."


    "Whatever the case, the Church of Coinfurth took the operation over. They expanded it and decreased efficiency a great deal," said Arkan. "Nobody could pay their jacked-up prices in Sorn, so they moved them all out here.


    "They''ve lost a small fortune here, I''ll wager. However, Sen Kaba regained it by taking advantage of the mine shutdowns. He''ll be at the meeting."


    "Is there a single faction in the world who is not involved in this fiasco?" asked William.


    "Directly," said Arkan. "Quite possibly. But Antion stands at a nexus of trade between east and west.


    "That was why Anoa IV moved the capital to it from Gel Carn. In retrospect, that might have put us too close to Seathorius and Calisha and too far from Escor."


    "You''re a student of history as well?" noted William, impressed despite himself.


    "Much like your own family, Sir Gabriel, I have a passion for it," said Arkan. "Though I think far more of the Islands of Power than other places."


    "So, what is your connection with Lamech?" asked William.


    "Ah, yes, I forgot my introductions," said Arkan. "This is Lamech, my adopted son and one of my most valuable agents. However, his business is not usually focused on this world. I gather you''ve already met.


    "In any case, it''s time my men and I went into the hero business. This place certainly needs one, and I need a safe place to hole up. So we''ll begin planning to engage the undead at once and secure this area. "With a proper setup, we might defeat the undead moderately. Then remind everyone why we are loveable rogues."


    "Is heroism a tradition among thieves, now?" asked William, unable to keep the scorn from his tone.


    "What is that supposed to mean? Don''t judge us, you high and mighty, stuck up-" began Vow before Arkan silenced her with a look.


    "It is in thieves of Imogen," said Arkan. "The difference between a vicious criminal and a loveable rogue is heroics. A rogue who picks pockets and slits throats while giving to charity is a monster.


    "A rogue who picks pockets and slits throats while having adventures is a hero. When a Thieves Guild becomes too decadent, redemption is battling someone worse. The alternative is finishing off the worst aspects of the organization by proxy.


    "Perhaps Lord Dunmoore and I could relive the old times. Let''s get to work."


    William nodded, then looked to Lamech. "Lamech, a word?"


    "Yes?" asked Lamech.


    They went to one side, and William ensured no one was listening. "When Tavish moves up to nobility, you''ll inherit his operations, yes?"


    "You don''t even know, do you?" asked Lamech.


    How had Arkan intimidated him? Looking over to where the blonde man was chatting with Jehair, he saw Lamech look that way too. Then, thinking about it, William looked at him and remembered his meeting with Arraxia. "...You''re an anchor of Melchious, like me."


    "Yes," said Lamech. "It makes us brothers, after a fashion."


    "No, it doesn''t," said William.


    Lamech was afraid of Arkan.


    Why?


    He''d never been afraid of anyone. Obviously, there was some good reason for it. Otherwise, they''d be fighting now.


    "Well then, we have a problem," said William.


    "I''m afraid so," said Lamech. "You can''t face me physically, and I can''t afford to lose my operations here."


    "Perhaps an arrangement could be reached?" asked William. No sense in pointing out he''d thrashed Lamech.


    "Such an arrangement will lead to one of our deaths," said Lamech.


    William thought about it. "Might I make a suggestion?"


    "By all means," said Lamech.


    "Limit your targets to completely irredeemable anchors," said William. "There are better ways to make friends than going after Paladins. As your stay in prison demonstrates. The next one will be longer or very, very short."


    "Why did you defend those Paladins?" asked Lamech.


    "You misunderstand me," said William. "I do not care which ''side'' wins. Kicking in doors and heroic speeches are a waste of energy on people who won''t listen."


    "I feel the same way," said Lamech deadpan. "That galls me."


    "Perhaps you should research Anoa the Bright," said William. "I think you''d like his histories."


    "I just might," said Lamech. "His reputation does proceed him."


    William put together as best a plan as he could. It started with helping Arkan.

 Chapter Twenty-Six: War Preparations

    Jehair was speaking to Ferus at the bar, leaning forward over a drink while undoing one braid. Red Safara and Vow moved across to the opposite side. He was enjoying the sense of merriment that had come about. Several more patrons had entered the well-lit tavern, and Ferus was busier than usual. It was also nice to have some questions answered for once. But, even so, the man looked at him through sagging eyes. Jaina moved past to talk to Arkan, and William confirmed Lamech was not making any moves.


    This seemed to please Lamech, to be feared. Judging from the looks the other Thieves gave him, they were very nervous. Red Safara was the exception, and she gazed at Lamech with a kind of hunger that reminded William of a predator. A snake, perhaps, though he wasn''t sure why.


    Something about her eyes.


    Lamech met her gaze, and his yellow eyes flared with a furious rage that did not seem personal but more general. William wondered if they were rivals or merely disliked one another. Perhaps Red had expected to take Lamech''s place.


    Either way, he still needed to get answers there. So William looked back. "Master Ferus, if I might. You mentioned Reg Hawkthorne.


    "What part did he have in all this?"


    "We know little of what he discussed with Lord Dinis," said Ferus. "But we know that the Baroness Saphra De Chevlon was present. She often advises Neral Dinis, though she ought to be his master.


    "House De Chevlon fragmented after the two-hour massacre in Antion."


    "I see," said William. "This Saphra, what do you know of her?" The name brought up familiar feelings like Arraxia. He couldn''t quite pinpoint why it was so familiar. But her action against Octavian seemed like something Arraxia would do. Ruin a man''s business without even speaking to him personally, despite blood connections?


    "Well, she is high-handed and arrogant, at least at first glance," said Fenus. "But she always seems to be putting on a front of sorts. So often, she seems to have two minds.


    "I met her once; she stayed in this very inn. I should not want to be the man who took her for a fool."


    "And what did she say?" asked William.


    Fenus smiled. "She was a good conversationalist.


    "She seemed quite frustrated by something. However, she hid the fact behind a haughty demeanor. It seemed there had been some disagreement between her and her relatives."


    "Did it involve Reg?" asked William.


    "Now that you mention it, she seemed to think some agreement with him was bad. ''They all seek to undercut my glory'' is what she said," said Fenus. That was a pure Arraxia style of line.


    "Though I''m not sure she meant herself. She seems to regard herself as two people. One that is her, and one that is her but greater."


    "I see," said William. "Well, in any case, perhaps we can help with this Barrow."


    Red looked up, and William realized she must have heard that. She seemed somewhat impressed while Vow was taking notes. Her gaze turned to Arkan as though considering things. William realized they were spies but decided it did not matter. He was a Paladin; he was supposed to engage in such heroism.


    It went without saying.


    "That would be a poor decision indeed," said Fenus. "Many fighting men have tried to enter that Barrow, and all have failed. It is the abode of a terrible elf witch who died long ago in the battles against King Anoa the Bright.


    "The howls of her screams can be heard as night, and the wraiths of her victims patrol all around. Even Neral Dinis has never been able to seize the burrow, though there were several attempts.


    "Sylvar is not to be fought by inexperienced adventurers."


    "I went into those Barrows once and survived," said Red, speaking for the first time. "Though I was the only one of my party. You''d be devoured long before you got past the first room. Even if you did, it''s a maze in there, filled with traps and the corpses of people like you.


    "You''d be lucky to get out with whatever you plundered. The only way you can travel through the underground is with a guide. And most of those work for Sylvar or Neral Dinis. The ones that don''t are priority targets.


    "Sylvar would consume you long before I got the chance.


    "Not worth the money or the risk."


    William had no idea what that last part meant. And he didn''t want to know; that expression was still on her face.


    "He is right, William," said Jehair. "She is a terrible foe, not one to be easily crossed. Her voice can tear men to pieces. And I fear she may have gone wholly mad with years." She paused. "Still, we will have to fight eventually.


    "If left unchecked, she will become more aggressive and attack this place. We know that the undead hates fire; individually, they are not powerful. And with their hunger for blood, we might provoke them into a battle on our terms.


    "If done enough times, we could weaken her power with proper strategy. That would decrease the danger and give time for a better strategy."


    "What you say may be true," said Fenus. "But I''m not sure there are many with the courage to do so. We survive by staying out of trouble."


    "It has come to you anyway. Seek those who would help and tell them of our plan," said William. "Arkan has already agreed to take time off from his plans to assist with his men. I have Jehair and Felix, both experienced veterans, and myself. And Massacre breathes flame and comes from a realm of enchantment.


    "We are already strong now. But, with more people, people who know this land and the ways of survival, we would be stronger still."


    "I shall do as you wish," said Fenus. "There are those who I think may help you. I will send some of my staff to find them."


    Jehair nodded. "Then join Arkan and me at the table to discuss the strategy once you''ve sent for them."


    So Jehair was trying to rally resistance against Sylvar?


    This was new. But why? Was this merely trying to help? It seemed like an action that could have serious consequences. Among them, weakening the undead and providing Arkan with political capital. Being a heroic undead slayer. He rallied the peaceful villagers, which would go a long way in helping his reputation.


    Which was why he was doing it.


    Soon enough, the tavern was full, and many were looking at Arkan and Jehair. However, William got a few respectful glances. Most had knives, axes, and plow hooks as if they''d come in from the fields. Perhaps they had; William had seen the harvests also looked poor here.


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    "So, you''ve been recruiting then," said Arkan. "You have excellent taste, Jehair."


    "Indeed I do," said Jehair. "Now, perhaps we should discuss strategy. Ferus, you''ve dwelled here your entire life. What would you recommend?"


    "Well, for a start, once an undead has a hold of you, it is usually over," said Fenus. "Though armor helps.


    "They naturally numb the flesh and feed on you that way before their teeth go at you. What are the ones with a physical form, of course? We have found a good way to keep them back with a long fork.


    "Once they are held in place, another man smashes their skull. Though they usually die if one hits them enough. It is as if the dead flesh remembers being alive and dies again when injured badly enough."


    "We noticed that much," said Arkan. "My company had a near miss and lost three men. Anything else?"


    "There are also other creatures," said Fenus. "Some undead lack a physical form and must possess something to fill the nothingness. Even without a physical form, however, they can drain the life of someone or cause their heart to stop.


    "They vary in power.


    "However, all undead hate fire. A single torch can slow them, and several will keep them back entirely, save in large numbers. They rarely attack during the day, and places with many people and light are usually immune. You will have to start more fires if they are determined and numerous enough.


    "I have drawn up several wards here and in several places. Others were put up by Pandora the Sorceress and Jehair. However, the wards are useless without people within, and they may be overrun by a hard enough attack.


    "Indeed, that is why the village within sight of this place was abandoned," said Ferus. "Too many people had departed, and no defense could be made. Now, even if enough people returned, the wards would be useless.


    "We lack the ritual."


    "All useful," said Arkan. "But our priority is to thin their numbers. We want to destroy as many undead as possible without engaging their main force."


    "They are attracted to large numbers of people if they have no light," said Ferus. "We keep wood stockpiles on the road so men can use them for defense."


    "Then let us lure them into a trap," said Jehair. "We can linger within a defensible area and wait for them to come to us. Then, if we keep firebrands ready to light on a moment, they will gather in great numbers. Then, as they come against us, we can light the fires and torches.


    "Such a thing may throw them into disarray."


    "It must be a defensible location," said Ferus. "Somewhere we can hold out long, even without fire. And how will we even detect them in the dark? Undead can move quietly; this is professional speaking."


    "The outpost?" asked Jehair. "We have a wall around there, and you could raise a torch for all to see for miles. With proper work, we could make a very defensible place."


    "Would that not intimidate them?" asked Ferus. William didn''t know what he was talking about.


    "A lone torch is a threat to a single undead," said Jehair. "But when seen by many of them, it would be little more than an invitation. Proof that there is an enemy to devour. And they hate the living for possessing what they have been stripped of."


    "Or they might be interested in bed and breakfast," said William.


    That got a general laugh, and this pleased William. Everyone had been so utterly miserable before now; it was nice to have a better mood. Still, he seemed to have fallen into the role of sidekick. But, then again, when had he left it?


    "...Do we have any bells?" asked Lamech, having neared them. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Bells, what for?" asked Vow. "Is that some sort of shout-out to literature?"


    "If we were to set up some bells that dangled on ropes over chokepoints. The undead would have to walk past them," said William, catching on. "The more they ring, the more come in. So if we put them up in several places, we''d be able to know fairly well.


    "That is a good idea, Lamech."


    As he saw it, Vow looked at him in surprise, as did several others.


    "It''s a fine start," said Arkan, holding a spear now. "What about the ones'' that have no flesh?"


    "I think I can help in that regard," said William. "I will play the music of Elranor and Isriath to defend the place. Jehair may spark such wards as she can. Could you create them so they only bar passage at a particular point?"


    "Or we could just smash them and not waste time with the runes," said Red Safara. "I can handle a few skeletons in the open."


    "What about a few hundred?" asked Lamech. "While skeletal archers fire arrows over the walls. All without regard to their own casualties? While the screams of banshees and wraiths resound and cause agony to your ears. And ghouls secretly burrow up from the ground, seeking your flesh?


    "I think you might regret such bravado then. I actually made a profit going into that tomb."


    "I can handle them, you yellow-eyed coward," said Red Safara. "I''ve faced all of those things. Are you afraid?"


    "I am beyond fear," said Lamech. "And I prefer to take every advantage possible before engaging an enemy. You would do well to do the same."


    There was a bang against the wall.


    Swords were drawn, and everyone went tense. Then, there was another bang. William hurried to the door, and Lamech was with him. Opening it, he stepped out into the darkening sky with a hand on his sword.


    Only to see Massacre rolling back and forth on the path, banging against the wall. William sighed in relief as Lamech howled with laughter, sounding very evil. William quickly stepped away from him and kept him in sight. He had an odd way of becoming disarming very suddenly.


    "Please don''t do that Massacre," said William. "You alarmed everyone."


    The dragon head made a noise and snuffed flame. She sounded dismissive.


    William went back into the tavern and saw them. "Just my chimera friend, Massacre."


    No sighs of relief, oddly enough.


    "You''re friends with a chimera?" asked Safara in disgust. "Some member of the House of Acoria you are."


    "I am of House Gabriel, milady," said William. "Massacre has been invaluable to my house and saved my life more than once. As I have hers.


    "And she will be of invaluable service here. Her flames alone can solve half our problems, and I have seen her tear dozens of demons in half easily."


    "Gentlemen," said Arkan. "This conversation serves no purpose.


    "Massacre is welcome to assist us so long as she brings no harm to our company. For now, our task is one of battle. Jehair, if you would answer young Gabriel''s earlier question."


    "I could create wards to herd the undead into a particular place," said Jehair. "We''ll need to have them at a chokepoint to survive. Unfortunately, provoking a direct confrontation with the undead rarely ends well. They care nothing for their own casualties and are relentless."


    "Do you really think music will stop the creatures that dwell in this place?" asked Vow.


    "Music has power, especially when focused through divine means," said Jehair. "And the Singing Sword can help."


    "Undead are relentless," said Red. "At best, you''ll slow them down. But, if we earn their anger, they will eventually overcome the wards. You''d be better off welding a sword; they care nothing for their casualties."


    "Then that is also their weakness," said William with a shrug. "If they have no regard for their casualties, they will make mistakes; someone who values his men will not. So they will be wasteful."


    "In any case, I think it best if we begin preparations for this plan at once," said Arkan. "I''ll send some men to the village and see what can be made. Red, I want you and Vow to make a complete map of that outpost and the village. Mark all possible entryways and tell if you think they should and can be blocked or guarded.


    "We''ll want an escape route, if possible, and a main chokepoint. One that can utilize our advantages while denying the enemy theirs. Narrow, with cover from arrows.


    "I think we can make it reasonably defensible before dark."


    "I''ll do my best," said Red, standing up. "Let''s go, Vow."


    "I should not make this attempt more than once, Arkan," said Jehair thoughtfully. "Others have tried such efforts before. And the undead usually comes in greater numbers each night. A perverse will drive them, and once roused, it will begin to get creative."


    "You underestimate me," said Arkan with a laugh. "What a fine Twilight of entertainment this has turned out to be."


    But he had no idea why, and it seemed irrelevant. And since he already had to balance several deities, he was still curious.


    "Is that a play on words or..." William halted. Why did he care?


    "Twilight?" asked Arkan. "The name of an ancient Elven Goddess? I gather Benarus had such records. She wielded the Goldenwood Harp."


    "It might be more fun without music," noted Lamech.


    "What happened to take every possible advantage, Lamech?" asked William with a laugh.


    "Holy power is not what I had in mind," said Lamech. He sounded miserable. "I''m really not supposed to be working with you like this. There are guidelines to this kind of thing; it''ll look like redemption."


    Everyone stared at William. The Thieves were all looking gobsmacked.


    "I don''t care as long as we get rid of the undead," said Vow.


    Lamech grunted in agreement in contempt. It was the sort of statement he seemed to approve of. This was the start of an odd campaign.

 Chapter Twenty-Seven: The War

    So it was that Arkan and Jehair set up a position in the outpost they''d seen before. A barricade was put in place of the gate, and the openings shored up. Red did a complete examination of the place, and many places had to be patched. Nevertheless, it was well made and sturdy, and Arkan rapidly arranged for the villages to take positions on the wall. The village also saw the walls rebuilt and the setting up of new torches. Everyone was now scurrying this way and that making preparations.


    Jaina took time to set runes of her own alongside Jehair. You could see them painting on walls with a runic script. Jaina''s was done with blue paint with a faint sparkling look. Jehair''s, on the other hand, was made from natural paint. The kind that Rusara had taught him to make from berries and other things.


    Bows were taken out and strung, spears readied, and jerkins donned. Shields were dusted off and practiced clumsily. Those who did not have spears grabbed axes or clubs. Arkan knew how to use a spear quite well, though no shield was with him. Lamech and Jehair were posted at the gate, and Massacre and Felix kept up at the village to protect it.


    As the bells and barricades were erected, William played music to purify the location. There wasn''t a lot of evil energy here, but he dispersed it. Lamech, however, took an interest. He kept looking at William from afar as if wrestling with some inner doubt. Red was holding her two-handed sword as if in practice, checking her footwork. Vow, meanwhile, seemed to be talking with Felix, who viewed her with unusual interest.


    "I don''t mean to be overly familiar," said Lamech. "But have you ever met someone with six fingers on their right hand?"


    "Not again," said Red.


    "I don''t usually pay attention to hands," said William. "Why do you ask?"


    "A six-fingered man murdered my Father," said Lamech.


    "How many people have you murdered?" asked William. It didn''t seem to him justifiable for Lamech to seek revenge in these circumstances.


    "It''s more an excuse than a goal," said Lamech. "I just look into the matter when I have spare time. It helped me focus when I was rising up the ranks."


    "You''ve been working with a Haldrenian agent. One who is part of the largest criminal organization in Harlenor," said William. "And your opponent has a unique quality that can be verified at once.


    "Why are you asking me a question you already know the answer to? If you were looking, you would have found him."


    "...Just making conversation," said Lamech.


    Making conversation?


    William looked up into his glowing yellow eyes, astonished and dazed. Why exactly was Lamech seeking out his company? They had virtually nothing in common, and by all accounts, he had gotten on fine with Tavish.


    "Aren''t you supposed to be making speeches about his evil or something?" asked Red. "And aren''t you, Lamech, supposed to be mocking him as the self-righteous twit he is?"


    "Would it help the situation?" asked William, surprised she was asking.


    "And how exactly is mocking him going to help my plans when they require me to survive the night with his help?" asked Lamech.


    "You guys are oddballs in your profession, aren''t you?" asked Vow.


    "I could throw you off a building right now," said Lamech with a smile. "You are not nearly no necessary."


    Vow shuddered. "Erm, I''m good."


    "You''d waste your efforts," said William, considering things in Lamech''s terms. "The buildings here aren''t nearly tall enough for a fall like that to kill someone. And I''d just heal her anyway.


    "You''d be causing friction for nothing."


    "Not necessarily," said Lamech. "If you drop someone headfirst, you need a lot less height for it to be lethal. With a broken ankle, you can survive for a while. A broken head is more or less a death sentence. Especially if you have a hard surface like cobblestones at the bottom.


    "The ground here isn''t as good as that. But you''ve still got a decent amount of stones. Also, even if she survived, you''ve got the undead out here. So even a minor injury would be potentially lethal if you were alone."


    "Yes, but she''s not alone," said William, deciding this had gone on long enough. "And if you try it, I will kill you. My profession is nothing if I do not follow my code."


    "A fair point," said Lamech.


    "There is something seriously wrong with you," said Vow. "Felix, why is your Paladin master best friends with a Blackguard?"


    "My Master is like this with everyone," said Felix.


    "Fine," said Vow. "So, how are those cards working out?"


    "What is your connection with this woman?" asked William.


    "We met before Duke Vanion purchased my freedom," said Felix. "We were on the same slave ship."


    William paused. "I see.


    "I need to write my notes on everything I''ve seen."


    "If you release those publically-" began Vow.


    "The civil war will be terrible and my death short," said William sadly. "And no, I''m not letting you read them."


    "I wasn''t going to ask," said Red. "I''ve got enough to do turning this place defensible.


    "What I wouldn''t do for some catapults."


    Very few appreciated just how much editing went into these documents. Every volume had to be practically rewritten. First, William had to check other sources to revise them and ensure everything was clear. And then Father and Rusara had to read them and have them censored.


    So many things would have to be removed to prevent damaging them politically. William had several copies of the actual volumes in several vaults. He hoped to release them later.


    But he did not think he would ever release this.


    Not in his lifetime.


    He remembered all he had seen as he gazed out in the fading light at the blackened and terrible land of Blackfear. And he pondered ominous and terrible events which he thought he''d soon discover. But, looking out, he realized things were probably far bleaker than they appeared.


    And yet, in that bleak and terrible nature, there was a kind of awful beauty. Majestic artistry is created by no one hand. Seamlessly weaved together into a tapestry of mankind''s sins. The sun dipped lower on the horizon, bathing the land in dim, orange light. Then, it seemed to cut through the daze for a moment, and they were showered in red and terrible light.


    Lamech was there by the gates, seeming for a moment a living shadow of darkness.


    Then the light faded, and all was dark.


    "It''s beautiful," said Jaina, coming up beside him.


    "Yes," said William. "Yes, it is."


    So it was that a song began. It rang in melancholy and terrible malice, resounding through the woods and trees. The wheat rustled with it, and it seemed for a moment soft and kind before becoming terrible. Then, men screamed beneath it, and William heard a sharp ringing.


    Yet raising his harp, he strummed his hands against it, and the magic was unleashed. Back and forth the spells went, contesting one another. The music of valiant defenders against the unending ravenous hunger of the undead. Of friends who fought together and allied with their allies. Torches were lit in the challenge, illuminating the darkness beyond. And before them was revealed the phantom of a beautiful elven woman. Her face was of pale beauty and sad for a moment before it turned cruel.


    And into the light came much ravenous undead, rushing toward them from all sides. Arrows were loosed into them, claiming many as others scaled up to be hit and hacked with hatchets. The ringing of bells and the flare of torches were everywhere, and the music flowed about them.


    Jehair moved along the wall, cutting down those who got up. Lamech was at the barricade, hewing down many. Arkan was calling orders to his men and sending them wherever needed. One man was born down and torn down. Fenus was hewing with an axe while Felix and several other men were slashed with torches.


    Jaina was casting fire.


    On it went.


    As the night pressed on, Arkan rotated some men to replace the tired ones. Water was handed out soon, and the front lines had to begin alternating. Lamech went wherever he was needed and hacked and slashed brutally. The music of William''s harp resounded with the Singing Sword as the peasants fought on.


    Yet the labor was hard. William''s hands began to ache with his playing, his hands shaking. The singing of his enemy was painful to him. It was all he could do to draw that pain into himself and spare others. But he felt that only a small portion of their full strength had been mustered.


    At last, just as things seemed bleak, the sun began to rise again. It appeared orange in the distance as somewhere, a rooster crowed. What they saw were piles of corpses that were unending around them. They were hardly able to get out from beside the walls. The land became greener, slightly more alive, but the labor during the day was terrible.


    Here the villagers who had not fought came down to move the bodies.


    William came down, exhausted.


    "Where the hell were you?" asked Lamech.


    "Playing music to contest the will of undeath itself is not like hacking up villagers, Lamech!" shouted William angrily. "If I''d stopped playing there that undead would have Sylvar''s will behind them. Then you''d face an organized army much stronger than this."


    "Enough, gentlemen," said Arkan. "We can''t afford to lose any valuable assets. In this land, they might come back to life." Laughter.


    "So, who was this elf witch anyway?" asked Lamech.


    "An ancient opponent with a long vendetta with humanity," said Jehair. "Anoa and her knew ages of hatred for one another and cost eachother many friends and loved ones. They took one another''s lives several times and cursed one another. Each time one reached a point of triumph, the other snatched it away and burnt it to ashes out of spite.


    "Every attempt at mediation between the two was refused. When offered peace, the other paid them back with blood. The result was an escalating series of horrors that led to this and many scenes like it.


    "Did you know that Blackfear was initially supposed to be the capital of humanity?


    "It was held in sacred trust for ages to return to them. And they turned it into this rather than accept a gift.


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    "They must have hated us very much."


    She sounded bitter and perhaps she was right to. The elven golden age was long ago and had never been regained in any world.


    But no one was in the mood to ask. And pick it up they did, finally finding the materials for Arkan''s original plan. Bells and wards were set and arrows retrieved, and William spent most of the day trying to focus.


    Men came from all over, wanting to join up in the fight. But Arkan politely refused additional volunteers. Instead, Red was dispatched to have them fortify the village during the day, and they were put to work there. Walls were repaired, fences strengthened, and new weapons fashioned. You could also see men drilling with spears, preparing for some future conflict.


    Arkan had plans for this place. Perhaps as an outpost to move illegal goods?


    "Smuggling," said Felix quietly, guessing William''s mind as they ate together. "A safe and secure road through Blackfear, combined with local support, benefits Arkan. If all goes well, he can move goods easily."


    "It makes sense," said William. "But we cannot leave these people.


    "For the moment, our interests are one and the same."


    "He knows Jehair well," said Felix.


    "Everyone knows Jehair well," said William. "There''s no point in speculating yet. Don''t repeat that to anyone, not even Jaina."


    "I wasn''t going to," said Felix. "But she''s guessed as much as well."


    During the next night, William did fight. He stood on the walls with Jaina, deciding he would not win the next match. And it was good that he did because, this time, the undead were far better organized.


    The first assault was covered by waves of arrows that shot over the wall, catching several men. Others saw them on shields or ducked under cover in time. Arkan had priests waiting in the read to tend to the injured and get them back into the fray. By the time the ropes were thrown onto the wall. William healed those wounded and tried to cover them with their shield. Next, a ram was brought in, made of pure stone, and dozens of undead rushed to the barricade and threw themselves into it. Three were cleaved down by Lamech in the first wave. Arkan speared two, while Red got three huge ones. Finally, arrows were launched into the midst of the creatures, and many fell. You could see Vow firing a crossbow from the walls while Jaina cast fire.


    The sound of William''s music resounded throughout the walls. And as it played, the undead was slowed, and some turned back. They fought to try and get past those still charging, and many died in the chaos.


    The next wave ran into the wards, and so the fight began. William ran to the gate and leaped down to join the fray and cut down a rotting corpse with one stroke. Another blow cleaved a skeleton down while a burst of flame burned a zombie. Jaina was at work now. Parrying a rusted sword, William smashed the skeleton with his shield.


    Then Lamech came into view, wielding his white sword to cleave down all around him. He fought like a berserker, without mercy, and loved the blood he spilled. He was so struck with such fury that he often cleaved down three undead with one swing. Another swing cleaved two more. Red cleaved down one, then another. With a swing, she another with her two-handed strokes, hair flowing about her. The motion sent her ample bosom bouncing as she licked her pouty lips in hunger. William was so distracted he didn''t notice the skeleton coming at him from behind. Turning, he saw a blade heading for his throat-


    The skeleton exploded as a firebolt hit it head-on. Looking up, he saw Jaina above. Nodding to her, he turned to go back into the fray. Red''s strikes were rapid, and she kept to the barricades, but she was keeping up. On her face was a wide smile.


    Her fighting technique was similar to Mother''s.


    Yet quite different.


    "They''re on the walls!" cried someone. "To arms!"


    William looked up to see ropes and steel ladders shoved onto the walls and undead surging up them. Peasants hacked the creatures as they came or pushed the ladders down with forked sticks. Others fired arrows down into the midst of the oncoming ranks. All while the runes glowed all the brighter. Jehair was up there, her scythe spinning and always in the thick of the fighting. The bodies of the undead fell in pieces around her as her brown hair flowed about her like autumn leaves in the wind.


    Jaina''s fire continued to be cast.


    Yet the undead were tireless and without fear. Some will press them to preserve their lives. William had a skeleton block his sword with a shield, and as he cleaved it down, he saw Felix have his sword parried. A moment later, the undead fell. The undead seemed to be waking, somehow, gaining greater ability to defend themselves. With each moment, they became ever more dangerous. Soon Lamech was forced back to the barricades by them trying to hem him in, leaving him a trail of corpses behind. They were now side by side, as spears were jabbing down.


    On it went.


    The flames were burning low. The runes began to burn brighter than ever and then to fade as the darkness closed in. More wood was put to flame as William''s body ached. A spear bounced off his pauldron, and a mace numbed his shield arm. A strike to an iron collar jarred his wrist. Red began to sweat while the arrows began to run low. Men began to throw stones instead, while Jaina''s cloak was torn by a knife. Only Jehair was tireless.


    By now, they were out of firewood; they were tired and miserable. Arkan called off some men to rest who could no longer fight, and they threw themselves on the ground in despair. William fought on, sustained by holy power. So did Lamech and Felix dart this way and that in the shadows. Stones rained down, but fewer than before, as several throwers had been killed.


    Night fell, and morale was verging on collapse by the second day. By the time the assault had ended, no one had spoken. They were soaked in sweat and blood, and several men had been killed. William walked among the wounded and healed them while others stood guard. All around the fort were the bodies of who knew how many undead. Their forms were rotting into the earth as they spoke, falling to dust as dark magic faded. Yet some remained, their skeletons newer.


    These Arkan used as fuel to burn bonfires and ordered the arrows fired to be retrieved.


    William strongly suspected morale was going to collapse. The peasants had been reluctant to do this before. Now they had made their stand and narrowly lived, losing friends. What more could they do? One could hardly blame them for wanting to give up.


    The next assault would be worse.


    "We have more experience now," said Arkan. "And we haven''t suffered serious casualties.


    "We need only not waver, and we''ll deal the undead another serious defeat tomorrow."


    "The undead were tireless tonight," said Fenus. "Tomorrow, they will come in greater numbers. And they may bring more powerful creatures.


    "Isn''t this enough, good master?"


    "No it is not," said Arkan. "This victory might be an irritation, but it will be dismissed as an isolated incident. They do not value these lesser undead enough to mourn the loss.


    "They must suffer enough casualties for this to be a setback. Only then will you be taken seriously." Felix gave William a look that said that it was something more than that. Could Arkan be trying to weaken the undead for some later operation? A siege of Blackfear might make sense.


    But what strength did Arkan have for such an assault? Of course, these people could hold ground. But they could never assault a fortified position. Let alone one where Neral Dinis resided.


    "We might attract more attention if taken seriously," said Fenus, who was no fool. He''d killed several undead during the fighting as well.


    "You''ll attract their attention eventually anyway, Fenus," said Jehair. "If they know the people of Blackfear to be formidable fighters. They will hesitate before wiping you out. Keep your head down too long, and you will only be baring your neck for an axe.


    "Besides, every undead you slay will help with the harvests later. You know as well as I do what these foul creatures do to the lands they walk on."


    Why was she in such support of this? She did not love Neral Dinis, but these undead were not his.


    And before now, Jehair had tried to avoid confrontations or followed William''s lead. So why was she steering Blackfear into a large-scale fight with the undead? She had to know these people couldn''t win a full-scale war. And Jehair would never be so heartless as to use them as disposable pawns.


    This was set up for some other business.


    For what? Jehair seemed to know everyone, so anyone could be involved.


    "General," said Red. "Four people are coming this way down the road."


    William hurried up and saw them. All four, one orange-haired with ram horns and very large, another in white robes. Then you had a huge black man with curly hair that covered much of his brow and a beautiful auburn haired girl. "I know them.


    "They are Oresa, Ictargo, Urus, and Cadas. Mercenaries from afar. They did excellent work for my cousin Vorn."


    "I''ll speak with them," said Arkan. "We may be able to get their help."


    And he went out to do so.


    William looked red and reflected that she was a very beautiful woman. Her body was very toned, and the red hair...


    No.


    He''d noticed things like that a lot lately, and he wasn''t sure he liked it. It kept hitting him with the various women he met, and it was distracting. His throat had nearly gotten cut because of it this time.


    "Why do they call you Red Safara?" asked William. "Why are you named after a love goddess?"


    "Because I am her," said Red Safara. "I am one of Safara, the Consumers priestesses. As we advance in power, we become more and more her aspect.


    "Her worship came to Spirtana after the death of our Goddess Tamar. In her name, I consume the energies of those I slay. And through me, she consumes them."


    "Ah, yes, the more violent aspect she represents," said William. "How far in her service are you?


    Red crossed her arms in a huff. William guessed this meant ''not very'' and dropped the subject.


    Isamu and company soon joined the army. It turned out Ham Hawkthorne had pointed them to the battle while wandering drunk. And they proved to be exactly what was needed to shore things up. So another battle was fought in much the same form as those before. Ictargo and Cadas took a position in the barricades. They fought with a fury and power comparable to anyone. Isamu struck with wild and untamed strokes that drove the undead before him. While Cadas'' gauntletted fists slew many.


    Oresa played the role of healer, tending to the injured. Though more quickly than William could, much to his satisfaction. Urus took place on the wall, and his bow sang under the dim stars. Many undead were cast from the walls by him.


    William, Red, and Lamech went wherever they were needed. And they needed many places, usually on opposite sides. They hacked and cut and drove the enemy back time and again. But, each time, the undead suffered worse losses, and the villagers were hardened.


    But the enemy always came back in greater numbers.


    So the skirmishes went on for five more days. And on the seventh day, everyone was exhausted. They had the men to keep fighting and the weapons to keep fighting. Birds were singing, and flowers were growing by the wall. Oresa and William could heal, and they had the men to win.


    Yet it did not matter.


    The villagers had done far more than anyone had expected or wanted to. And they were spent and could go no further. Their fields were not being tended, and they needed to be trained soldiers. Arkan saw this at once. And as another day dawned, and William stood with a bloodied sword, Arkan had had enough.


    "Break camp and return to the village," said Arkan. "We''ve won as many skirmishes as we can here."


    "You call that a skirmish?" asked Ictargo.


    "Yes, these were major battles," said Oresa. "Weren''t they?"


    "Hardly," said Lamech. "We''ve only just gotten the attention of our enemy. "This is a minor loss, nothing more. They''ll have shifted reserves in a few days to replace the ones we killed here."


    "We''ve killed hundreds of undead in each battle," said Arkan. "Perhaps even a thousand in some.


    "But a single undead is worth a tenth of what a motivated soldier is, even untrained. With our defensive advantage, we could hold. Another assault like that, and we''ll cave. If we must fight, it ought to be in the village.


    "No, the real achievement is in human will. We have proven that we can fight and win battles and deal them minor defeats. One minor loss for them is a major victory for us. If every village in Blackfear were to deal them a string of minor defeats, that would add up very quickly. It would cost them enough to cause problems and draw off forces from other domains.


    "So you now have something to bargain with, Fenus. And I think they will be in less haste to prey on your people.


    "Indeed, our victory here should at least satisfy the House Gabriel philosophy. Pushing it any further will see us killed."


    "House Gabriel philosophy?" asked Oresa, blinking with big eyes.


    "My Father," said William. "Believes that when facing an enemy you can''t defeat, you should injure them in a limited battle. Once you have that, negotiate. If you cave without a fight, they will not respect you.


    "If you fight to the bitter end, you''ll be destroyed.


    "On the other hand, if you make enough trouble to be a problem when crossed, they''ll leave you alone."


    "An attitude I can respect," said Urus.


    "What are you doing?!" said Isamu. "We''ve had it all our way this whole battle! We should be pressing the attack, not running like a bunch of cowards!"


    "This is pathetic," said Red. "We should keep fighting.


    "We could hold out here for weeks and bleed these undead white. I don''t care how many tombs they have beneath the surface. We''d emptied a few of them. Let''s empty a few more."


    "It''s not your home that will starve if your fields aren''t taken care of," said Fenus, crossing his arms. "And you were late to this battle anyway, Isamu. You came in last of us and have not seen any of your friends die."


    This was enough to silence Isamu. And so the battle ended, with the ground that had been taken restored. Yet all the plants seemed healthier. Many reported the crop were growing better and fuller than ever.


    "What are you going to write about this?" asked Arkan as he and Jehair sat across from William. Jehair was meditating.


    "I shall summarize events," said William. "And make a note of all relevant accomplishments. However, since I could never publish this without treason-"


    "We''ll never get a chance to read it," laughed Arkan. "Well, perhaps someday. How did I do, Jehair?"


    "You fought at the front and commanded well," said Jehair, not opening her eyes. "Do it again with every other village; we might get out of this alive."


    "I take your point," said Arkan. "Still, I''ll make soldiers of these men yet. And this village could be fortified into a real base. If nothing else, they have been hardened. They would resist if the village were attacked tonight, not fall like wheat.


    "Once the men here are better trained, there is real hope.


    "What will you do, Isamu? I could use someone of your talents."


    "What I''ve been doing," said Isamu. "And no thanks.


    "I don''t do long-term contracts. It usually means I have to do something I don''t want." Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then someone halted. William looked around and realized there was a major absence.


    "Where''s Lamech?" asked William.


    "Gone to betray us, I expect," said Urus.


    "Are you actually surprised?" asked Jaina, raising an eyebrow as she patched her cloak.


    "Not at all," said William.


    Lamech seemed to have a knack for betrayal and already had connections here. If he were to bring Neral Dinis down here or some other enemy...


    William sighed, put the matter from his mind, and went to bed.

 Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Werewolf Police

    The fire burned exceptionally bright in the tavern that evening and the air was fresh outside.


    Many drinks were had, not overindulgent, and men boasted of their deeds in battle and drank. It was a crowded and merry scene, but William sat in a corner and watched. Urus was meditating on the floor while Oresa, Isamu, and Cadas were by the fire.


    They were by the door, everyone else had come in first, and Jehair was elsewhere. Urus stood up suddenly and adjusted his long, dark hair, tying it into another braid. "That was too easy."


    "What do you mean, Urus?" asked Isamu. The big man was sitting in a chair by the corner, drinking. Vow and Felix were playing cards.


    "The undead in Blackfear have many far more dangerous agents than we have faced," said Urus. "Why have we heard nothing of them yet? We ought to have vampires or werewolves or something. We''d heard the wolf calls for it."


    "Maybe they''ve gone home," said Oresa hopefully.


    "Unlikely," said Urus. "It seems that the undead is either occupied with some other enemy or have chosen to humor us."


    "What then do you advise, good masters?" said Fenus, polishing a glass. He put it down to pour a drink for Red, who was in a stupor at the bar. Her left hand clutched her sheathed sword in a vicelike grip as she mumbled drunk.


    "Nothing, for my part," said Felix, laying a card on the table. "You''ve shown you''re not weak, and they won''t come after you in a hurry now."


    "It doesn''t work like that, Felix, and you know it," said William. "Father''s strategy worked because he could consistently threaten Baltoth. If he''d been down to his last throw, Baltoth would have called his bluff. Assuming he''d known it.


    "The other villages have not had such an uprising.


    "If Sylvar decides to destroy us, she''d need only attack this place in isolation. We won''t be here in a bit."


    "Perhaps we could appease the spirit of Sylvar?" suggested Jehair. "She was not always so enraged and twisted."


    That sounded like a good idea. Or it would if William were not a Paladin and human. And if Sylvar did not have a reputation for backstabbing. "You would have us sin against Elranor when we need him most?


    "That would be madness."


    "He has a point," said Fenus. "I shall call for a round of prayers among the villagers. Then, perhaps if we show our devotion, Elranor might intercede to her on our behalf.


    "That would be appropriate."


    "I see your point," said Jehair, looking away. She was really trying to push a dialogue with the elven gods. First, she had spoken at length about the loss of sacred days. Then she had tried to spin things for this elven pantheon.


    Given what William had seen of the church, Jehair must have been trying to gain converts for her gods.


    "Is Sylvar an enemy of Elranor?" asked Oresa, a little ways off, brushing her long hair.


    "Blackfear is in the domain of the God Triumvirate," said William. "Any being that presents itself as a god in these kingdoms is contrary to his will. And, certainly, she is not the sort of person I would want to worship.


    "For reasons which by this point must seem obvious." Several laughs. "Speaking to her directly to appease her would be breaking ranks. Elranor can handle such discussions."


    "Sylvar has never been fond of humans," conceded Jehair, as though in a warning. "A quest into her domain would be dangerous, nearly futile." It was odd how she said it like she was responding to a different scene in an alternate version of the same play.


    "There''s always a first time," said Isamu.


    "Yes, but since I''m the only one who could break the enchantments. I think you gentlemen should devise a better plan," said William. "Or decide not to go at all.


    "I will not undertake a mission to appease Sylvar unless the entire village votes against me. We''ve had trouble enough on the defensive."


    "What makes you so special?" asked Jaina, who had been drinking with Red. She''d stopped early, though, while Red kept going.


    "I am a Paladin, and I''m experienced in breaking enchantments," said William. "I have the rank to negotiate. And I have a companion who is familiar with this territory. Everyone else here is either in command of a large force or only has some of those.


    "Jaina, you might manage it, but you were not in the Khasmir Campaign, to my knowledge. That was where I got my practice."


    "You do have a head start," said Jaina with a slight smile.


    "Makes sense," said Isamu. Urus could handle it in a pinch, though.


    "A pinch perhaps," said Urus. "But I agree with Sir Gabriel.


    "Appeasement is not a good option. These people are already in the power of the undead. Their goal should be to weaken their hold and gain outside support. A return to normalcy will only see the undead strike again later.


    "And then they will be better prepared. Our advantage will decrease as time passes, and a war is inevitable." A war with whom? Urus was a Medi from Calisha, and William wondered if he would be writing reports on what he saw.


    "What about the other villages?" asked Fenus suddenly. "We might convince them to stand up and be counted as we are. We are not as weak as we once were. And if all of us were to stand at once, we could make a great deal of trouble."


    "Yes, but what if Neral Dinis or Sylvar has decided to let the matter pass?" asked Jaina. "They might have simply noted your defiance and adjusted you to be worthy of note. You''ve said to yourself there needs to be more communication with him.


    "If we become a persistent threat, they might wage a full-scale war."


    "I think that any military operations must be limited to preparation. At least until we know the mind of your master," said Arkan, polishing his spearhead to one side. It was the first time he had spoken during the merriment. He had sat quietly in a corner, contemplating events. "...William, would you like to take my place in Blackfear? I have a meeting there I will be missing."


    William looked up. "What do you mean?"


    "A large number of distinguished people are meeting to discuss how to solve the crisis," said Arkan. "Not this one, the one you created for our business interests. Since I am playing the role of undead rebel hunter, I can hardly attend.


    "Even so, you could find the meeting most useful."


    Then there was a horn call.


    William looked out. "That''s a wood elf horn."


    Everyone rushed out, grasping the weapons they had near them. Everyone had taken to keep them near at hand these days.


    And they saw coming toward them Tyrasa and her group. They wore armor, leather, and furs that hid their curves. The cry of wolves was about, and they wore heavy scarves.


    "Tyrasa," said William, coming to meet her. "Your timing could not have been better."


    "So it seems," said Tyrasa, seeming a bit awkward. "We have witnessed the battles of these people, and I have chosen to lead a force to aid them. Our archers shall supplement their axe work well."


    "Now we have a real chance, then," said William. "You speak to Master Ferus in this. He is the leader of these people and has been coordinating with Arkan Lantan for the defense.


    "Have you encountered a man named Lamech?


    "He was part of the same organization as Tavish Kern."


    "No," said Tyrasa. "My sisters and I have spoken to no one. However, we did see an armored figure entering yonder barrow up there."


    William looked and sat only a line of nondescript hills. "I don''t see anything."


    "They are well hidden to your eyes," said Tyrasa. "But you can find them almost any way.


    "You should also know that High Priest Cirithil is on his way to Blackfear. His party is well-armored but of foreign mercenaries. I believe that we could head him off soon and-"


    "Do not finish that sentence, Tyrasa," said William. "That is the kind of thought that befits a friend of another nation. Cirithil is the High Priest, and that renders him untouchable. He has used my faith as a shield, but to harm him would harm that.


    "The church must be rescued from him. Not destroyed with him." Jehair looked outright panicked at that.


    Had Jehair been trying to convert him over to her side? It made sense. What about Isriath and the Goddesses of Themious? Why make their appearances to him?


    What if William had come here without being hardened in Khasmir and Seathorius? He might have listened. Much of what she said had merit; it contradicted his beliefs. Many people on this journey expected him to be his old self.


    Rius.


    Jehair.


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    Tef.


    The Goddesses of Themious.


    All had believed he would be like he had been in Gel Carn. Ill-disciplined and weak. They had been banking on it, and each paid for it when he didn''t act as expected. Well, not Tef, but she was essentially just a victim in all of this anyway.


    "The High Priest?" asked Fenus. "A messenger was here before. He spoke to many of us about our numbers before Ham Hawkthorne killed his company."


    "Why?!" said Isamu.


    "As far as I can tell," said Fenus. "Cutting him off in traffic."


    "Joffrey deserved it," said William. "He was half the reason Ascorn was as bad off as it was."


    "What is your quarrel with Cirithil," said Fenus. "I must know."


    William looked to Tyrasa. "Tyrasa...


    "I will need your permission for this."


    Tyrasa nodded. "Tell him."


    "I shall," said William. "What I tell I kept only because there was no time."


    Fenus heard the story in full and looked shocked. "If this is so, he must only be allowed to meet Neral Dinis with a representative of our people.


    "Sir Gabriel, will you go?"


    "I will," said William. "But I will not do so in Cirithil''s company. Is there some way I could fight my way in? So I would not appear to Neral as a beggar at the door. Especially since Cirithil already has his ear."


    "Um, don''t usually beggars not wear expensive armor?" asked Oresa. "I mean, maybe you could have some beggar knights. People who fight for justice while asking for handouts on the side."


    Red laughed uproariously, raising her head upwards before falling back onto the counter. She began to snore.


    "Lady Oresa, I was speaking figuratively. Jaina, will you attend?" asked William.


    "Actually, I have to leave now," said Jaina ruefully. "I''m here as an observer, but I''ve got to see other villages. Ferus'' idea of gathering support from those villages is a good one. And I can be helpful there in negotiations. With a general rising, the undead will have a harder time surrounding you."


    Then there was another horn call and a heroic triumph to it.


    A sense of joy and wonder, of sudden salvation, long prepared. Yet it was weakened by the grim fights that had been had before. Golden-armored elves arrived in armor with shining swords and spears. Yet William did not know them, and Tyrasa''s coming had relieved him.


    So the arrival of these newcomers was blunted. A sense of eucatastrophe was around them as though meant for someone else.


    What were they doing here? How had they gotten here in such convenient timing, and why had no word been sent ahead? This was like something out of a story, almost... custom-tailored.


    It was all for a different William Gabriel. The William Gabriel who hadn''t taken that boat with Raynald and Rusara, which seemed so long ago.


    "Hail and well met. We are a mercenary company from Qur''Danas; we''ve come to aid these people in their time of need," said a familiar figure. "We desire to restore this land to its former power and beauty and would offer our services."


    William moved forward. "Farwa, what are you doing here?"


    Farwa took off her helm to let her dark hair fall. "William, well met. I was relieved of my position by Cirithil and came here instead. As is the custom in the Paladin Order when you have no options. One of his favorites is now in charge of Ascorn, I gather.


    "But I sent letters to House Telus, and I do not think he will survive long. We''ve become quite popular, you know."


    "Ha! Now we have an army!" said Vow, playing her own card triumphantly. "Take that, Sylvar."


    Jaina was packing her bags.


    "Elves?" asked Urus. "You are of Jehair''s people."


    "Why is there a convenient squad of elven warriors within a day''s march of this town?" asked Isamu. "And why have the undead not eaten them?


    "This is too convenient?"


    "Isamu, that is not the kind of observation you make in public!" said Urus in the tone of someone who has said it before. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "We shall need you, I am sure," said Arkan, quickly coming forward and shooting a deadly glance at Isamu. Obviously, he began to think them more trouble than they were worth. Such words could have gotten them all killed. "Gentlemen, soon we must begin a council of war to plan how best to confront this undead. For now, however, we must send a mission to Blackfear. The fastest way would be through the barrow, on a hill north of here.


    "There is a passage there that leads into the labyrinth. Jehair has walked it before."


    "I have," said Jehair.


    "Then you must escort Sir Gabriel''s party to Blackfear and ensure he arrives safely," said Fenus. "The rest of us must go at once and secure the remaining villages. This place is prepared to resist an attack, but the others are not. Some may have to be wholly abandoned for more defensible territories.


    "It will be hard labor.


    "Yet we shall leave this land a safer place."


    "To arms!" cried a lookout. "An army descends on us in great force from the barrows! It is larger than all the rest, and vampires and werewolves are among them! It numbers greater than all the others!"


    "Then prepare for battle and man your posts," said Fenus. "General Arkan, you are in command."


    "Lady Jaina," said Arkan. "Sir Gabriel, I ask that you secure the fort and hold it against any that try to take it from us. If undead archers take it, it will be impossible to maneuver."


    William nodded and drew his sword. "Come, Felix, let''s go."


    "We''ll go too," said Isamu.


    "No, you will be needed to defend the village," said Arkan. "The fort requires only a smaller force."


    "Who the hell do you think you are?" asked Isamu in disgust. "Last time I checked Lamech is your son. So you''re selling William out!"


    "There''s no time to argue," said William quickly. If Isamu sabotaged the command structure, they wouldn''t have a chance. Whatever was going on, the battle against these undead was important. "I have an alliance with House De Chevlon. We should be taken alive if captured. And the fort does have to be held. These people must be protected."


    He did not say that if Jehair had a connection to this, they had no problem. William suspected Arkan had only listened to him because Jehair was present. So William had been taken for a puppet. What, however, was the end goal for all this?


    Isamu looked to William, then Arkan. Finally, he shrugged. "Fine then," said Isamu. "But if you sell these people up the river Arkan, we''ll have a problem."


    "Gods favor you, William," said Tyrasa, bowing.


    And they hurried down the hill, watching as the light they had been accustomed to faded. Finally, arriving at the old outpost, they found the shattered remnants of the barricade. Bits and pieces that had never been recovered.


    "I''ll light some torches for you," said Jaina. "But after that, I can''t stay with you. Arkan is setting us up to die with deniability. That''s why he asked you to go in his stead."


    "I know," said William. "Felix, help me with this. Jehair, do what you can."


    "Don''t light any torches on the walls," said Jehair. "And stay out of sight until the last possible moment. Our best hope is to be unnoticed and ignored."


    Hurried preparations saw the barricade restored across the gate. Jaina set up several torches and then hurried off.


    In came a great horde of undead. Yet the bulk of it was heading toward the village as predicted. Arrows rained down upon them from on high, and light and music flamed high in the windows. Up the hill went the undead but found a fortified wall with armed men. Vampires, pale-skinned and savage with bald heads, leaped over it and scaled. But they found elven swordsmen waiting. Their blades sang as the battle was joined and many undead fell in mere moments.


    At the same time, just as Arkan guessed, a contingent broke off to seize the fort. Yet it was not of undead but werewolves. Wild-eyed and with red, they moved forward snarling and savage, and at their head was that blonde woman. William could see her through the slit in the wagon. She wore dark robes and had blue eyes and an angelic, elfen face, though her ears were normal. Two locks of hair were tied up above her face as she ran toward the gate at the head of the pack.


    The other wolves, however, had limbs like men but with fur and had a savage look. They were hunched, with huge claws on their hands.


    "Aw, how cute," said the woman. "These pathetic food think some broken wood will keep us out. Find anyone inside and capture each of them. Then hold the fort while Sylvar'' forces get smashed to bits.


    "We can watch the show."


    William looked at Felix, Jehair, and Massacre behind the wall.


    One of the wolves leaped over the wagon, then another. Then they rose up as one to meet the others. William saw a werewolf coming at him, jaws opening. Bringing down the Black Sword, he tried to smite it, yet it darted aside and charged. Then, turning his blade to catch it, they were born down.


    Hitting the ground hard, William felt it biting his hand, only to hit his gauntlet. Bashing it with his shield, he tried to get free. Again and again, he hit it, yet it would not lose the mouthful, and his sword could not move. The armor was starting to shudder, even as he bloodied it. Massacre was roaring now as he tried to get free. Again, the creature''s claws scraped over his armor, but finally, he managed to get his blade in an underhand grip.


    Thrashing to one side, the blade sank into the neck, howling as it loosed him. Shoving it off, William brought down his shield to bash it. From there, he drew his blade and struck it down. Even as he did, however, another threw him off his feet, and he slammed to the ground. In the air, he heard the sound of battle everywhere.


    Cries of ''for Harlenor'' and ''for Elranor'' were everywhere.


    Pushing the creature back, he hit it across the shoulder. Yet the blow was weak, and it fell back only a little before lunging again. Even as it did, he threw his full weight forward with a shield. Feral muscle met steel, and the wolf was thrown back to the ground. William raised his sword to kill it, but another came at him.


    Bringing his blade down toward it, he caught it in the leg and slowed it. However, it smashed him with a paw, and he hit the wall. Felix and Jehair were fighting as well but were overwhelmed. The blonde woman watched with obvious enjoyment and approval. Now two werewolves were coming, while those he''d beaten were standing up. Seeing one of the torches Jaina made by the wall, William dropped his shield and snatched it.


    Driving it forward, he caught one in the face, and it whimpered and backed up. His blade he brought down to cut the skull of the next. It didn''t break, but it screeched while the other two came at him. One got a torch to the shoulder, and the other was jabbed in the stomach and fell back. Soon all of them circled before him, their back to the wall.


    The woman laughed. "Oh, this is hilarious. You, idiots, are all being outdone by some random human. Some werewolves you''ll be." Then she became enraged and her face twisted into a feral scowl. "I''ve had it."


    And rushing forward in a blur, she slammed one with a fist against the wall. The next, she dealt an uppercut that sent them away. So she went, kicking and striking them in a rage. "Idiots! You''ve made fools of us! I ought to rip your souls out!" Then she turned to William and raised a hand as the others withdrew. "You are cordially invited to meet with the Baroness Saphra De Chevlon while the people up there all die."


    So far as William could guess, the fighting was still going strong.


    "I think you underestimate the men of this place," said William. "You would Larxe, the reincarnation of Malice and chosen of the Alpha?"


    "So you noticed?" asked the woman. Her hair was slicked back, and her robes were designed to hide her movements. Even so, her activities were so chaotic that it was impossible to hide them. She was constantly shifting her neck and was now pacing.


    "Well, they give better sport than expected," said the woman. "I decided to try to test some of my younger broods up there.


    "Still, their time has come and gone. We don''t need them now; they will only survive for a while. Their fate is of no concern to Neral Dinis."


    "Arkan is your contact then?" guessed William.


    "Yes," said the woman. "He''s quite annoyed at how you forced him into hero work.


    "I find it hilarious. I''ve wanted to drink his blood for some time." She flexed a hand and drew out a knife. "I drink everyone''s blood.


    "Where is Jaina Atravain?"


    "Who?" asked William.


    "The girl who went here with you," said Larxe. "Where is she?


    "I''m to get her as a hostage to keep Atravain in line."


    "There is no one here by that name," said William. "I will go back with you now. But if you decide to start conducting searches, I will fight you. And I might just get some help from them."


    Larxe nodded. "Smart." Then she surged forward and pinned him against the wall, drawing very near with her eyes mad. Her strength was immense, and her grip was like iron. The stonework shuddered, and his breath was knocked out of him. "Try to manipulate me, you brat! I''ll wring your neck and..." She stepped back. "Only joking.


    "Let''s get going." She released him.


    "I would not presume to question your judgment," said Willam, falling to one knee. "However, Felix and Jehair will not be in my company. Or we will kill some of you before we are taken."


    "I''m looking forward to it," said Larxe. "Now, all of you shut up and stop being such violent brutes! Take Gabriel and go, and don''t bind him!


    "He''s Neral Dinis'' guest."


    Wonderful.


    Because the only thing this situation needed was more psychopaths.


    Still, Jehair needed to be fixed with Neral Dinis. Which narrowed the possibilities a great deal.


    Now he needed only a few more pieces. And to survive being Neral Dinis'' guest.

 Chapter Twenty-Nine: Infiltration

    Most people who met Tanith Telus tended to assume that she was a mindless attack dog. However, if they tried to get to know her, they learned she was a loyal friend, loved her family, and was well-learned. Perceptions of mindless bloodlust were inaccurate at best and dangerous at worst. Especially since Tanith knew when people underestimated her and hated it. That being the case, Larxe seemed to be the attack they thought Tanith was.


    In the time since they departed, three days had passed. They''d left behind a village under siege and still holding and made for the Barrow. Or so he gathered from conversations. During this time, Larxe had not even once said anything that was not mocking or threatening. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It was almost impressive.


    She was violent, vicious, brutal, and short-tempered and really rather dim. William was not one to cast judgment lightly, but she seemed to have no other aspect to her personality. Most of her time was spent hitting her pack and yelling at them. And they moved at an exhausting pace, even for William. All objections were met with violence and all failures with violence. Even success was sometimes met with violence.


    Larxe did seem sane enough not to touch William, as he was under the protection of Neral Dinis. In fact, Neral Dinis appeared to be the only thing she did not have a deranged desire to brutalize.


    "Move you, wretches!" snarled Larxe one morning, kicking people awake. "We''ve got a journey ahead. The King''s Road is near; we''ll move along it and kill anyone who tries to tell us."


    "Is that legal?" asked William, hefting his pack.


    "It better be for the law''s sake," said Larxe. "The High Priest is calling in troops to stop the peasant revolt! They killed one of his messengers; we found their bodies!" Peasant revolt? Serfdom had never been introduced to Antion. There had been one or two attempts by immoral nobles to do so. And those attempts had ended in their deaths.


    Escor had only fallen into it because the Haldrenians beat them so badly. It had been the only way they could keep society together. But, between Babarassia and Haldren and Viokinar, Escor had been in very bad shape. And then, just when things had been going well, the Escorian Civil War broke out.


    And that was worse than all of them. House Gabriel had nearly gone extinct.


    Then again, Cirithil probably assumed he didn''t have to have a credible cause of war. As far as he was concerned, he could do as he liked, and everyone would believe his excuses. Even if they didn''t, he probably wouldn''t care as long whatever he was doing hurt someone. He really was exceptionally childish, wasn''t?


    "Actually, that was Ham Hawkthorne," said William, not wanting to say any of this. For all he knew was Larxe of Cirithil''s party. "You see, the messenger cut him off in traffic-"


    "I don''t care what they did," said Larxe. "Move! Move, or I''ll crush your skulls, you worthless ingrates!"


    Larxe and her wolves moved fast. Faster than William was used to moving, she drew out a whip to crack at the heels of stragglers. Despite this, he was able to keep up.


    William was used to moving fast; he''d done it in Khasmir and many other places. But Larxe drove her werewolves on with marvelous speed. Often she''d take a seeming detour that would bring them faster. Anything that got in the way was either circumvented or broken.


    And soon, they came to the King''s Road.


    William had gone through many adventures to avoid it, and now he knew why. It looked like it had been half-taken apart. Most of the cobblestones were missing and badly overgrown, at least here. In fact, it was tiny but a glorified path. Greener lands lay on the other side, but no one dwelled outside fortified settlements.


    They hurried along it, and people came out with bows to watch them go by. Eventually, after a day of travel, they stopped. During this time, they saw a girl watching with a doll of straw and old bits of leather. Larxe paused, looked at her, then shot forward and snatched the doll. Walking back, she drew out a knife and began stabbing it with a knife with a childlike smile on her face. The girl was crying to one side as straw, and William moved up to her.


    "She''s killed my doll," said the girl.


    "Don''t worry," said William, feeling horrible. "That''s not your doll.


    "She''s just freeing it from its earthly confines so that it can help the people on the other side of this road. She''ll return to you if you make another, but you can''t return this way. Are your parents near?"


    "Yes," said the girl.


    "Go to them," said William. "Remember that your doll has saved you from the bad things here. So make another one, and don''t make it get hurt like this again."


    She dried her tears and ran off. The foolish girl really needed to sort out her priorities.


    William saw Larxe was still stabbing the doll but looking up at him with strange eyes. William walked near her.


    "Why is Cirithil bringing troops here, really?" asked William.


    "I don''t care," said Larxe.


    "You realize he was enslaving them only a little while back," said William. The story would get out soon anyway.


    "I don''t care," said Larxe.


    "Well don''t you live here?" said William.


    "No, I don''t," said Larxe. "I just want to kill everything in this place for the Alpha so I can kill everything in some other place! Now shut up!"


    "As a guest of Neral Dinis, I want answers," said William.


    Larxe howled in fury, and the sound reechoed throughout the hills of Blackfear. Many undead dimly visible in the distance fled. "Fine, just ask your stupid questions."


    "Who are the troops?" asked William.


    "A bunch of bandits," said Larxe. "And mercenaries. He was hired by Sornian contacts of his using money from Namina. A guy named Nagos provided the cash. He throws it around a lot and hopes it will stick.


    "Neral Dinis'' has promised I can eat him. He''s fat, so he deserves to get eaten."


    "Do you eat humans?" asked William.


    "I''m about to!" snarled Larxe. And she threw the doll at him, but by now, it was straw, so it fluttered around. She howled in sheer rage at that. "Let''s just go! Get your things, and let''s move!"


    It was rapidly becoming apparent that Larxe had two different modes. Brutalization and screaming before brutalization. Neral Dinis had forbidden the brutalization of William, so Larxe did it to dolls instead. Several times she broke off and returned with severed limbs from the undead. She then used this to beat the other werewolves.


    And they continued on even faster than before. Sweat dripped down his brow, and his legs ached. His breathing became labored as they went on and on without pausing.


    Then William saw Castle Blackfear on the horizon, and all hope vanished.


    Once, it had belonged to Orson, the Greatest Knight in all of Harlenor.


    Now it stood like Carn Gable, yet taller and most terrible. The parapets had rotting corpses hanging from them. Bonfires stood on every battlement, and the stone was unadorned and seemed a solid whole. There was no mortar, and pale-skinned vampires walked the battlements with yellowed eyes. The gates were high and thin as if to allow in tall shipments.


    And outside the gates was a significant contingent of the undead. Larger and more numerous than any William had seen before. They seemed to fill the plains and might have still been defeated if all had gone well. Yet he saw ranks of men with spears and shields in the distance. Veterans and some he knew from the Khasmir Campaign victims to a need of money.


    Cirithil stood at the crossroads with his guards with Lamech beside him. At last, Larxe slowed their pace.


    "Larxe," said William, coming up with a plan quickly. "You are Neral Dinis'' favored servant, are you not?"


    "Obviously," said Larxe, somewhat huffily.


    "Well then," said William. "Why have you not been given command of that undead army? Were you even told of it?"


    "I''m sure Neral Dinis has a reason," said Larxe.


    "Perhaps he wants you to assert yourself," said William.


    "Assert my..." Larxe stopped in full. "I''m going to carry out my orders! And I don''t need an army of undead to kill all those worthless peasants! I can do it on my own!"


    "Then naturally, you should be the one to lead the army forth," noted William as they neared.


    "...Yes," said Larxe after a moment.


    She was oddly quiet as she grappled with a problem that did not involve violence. Now William hoped things could work. As they approached the crossroads, he saw that the army was near; it was coming to a halt as it saw the werewolves. Larxe had quite a few with her, drawing them up as she walked.


    Cirithil looked up and smiled, while Lamech looked very pleased with himself.


    "William Gabriel," said Cirithil. "What was it you said before?


    "''We won''t meet in Antion?'' I suppose that''s true."


    "Lamech, well met," said William, not considering the man worth his attention. "We''re here to aid in putting down the peasant revolt."


    "What?" said Cirithil, suddenly taken aback.


    "The High Priest has commanded a peasant revolt be halted," said William. Technically speaking, serfdom and being a peasant was not the same thing. Though often the two were associated, a serf was bound to the land. "So it must be so, mainly if Neral Dinis has supported it. It is a holy duty to preserve King Andoa''s authority.


    "Especially with so many honorable veterans.


    "Having been there myself, I can negotiate with any honorable citizens remaining. Being quite well informed. We can convince them to lead us to what rebels there are. Primarily since they have chiefly been concerned with the undead.


    "They have recently done great work clearing the roadways so that your path might be safe.


    "Indeed, Larxe has led us all this way with great speed. She knows this land better than anyone and has a relentless talent for it. So I think it is only fitting that she and her people be in the vanguard. All that the villages might be secured without violence."


    Silence from the men as they stared, and the undead eyed them. Cirithil made a motion. "You fool? Do you think your silver tongue will save you from this, Gabriel? I''m going to have you flayed alive before I set about those pathetic peasants you love so much.


    "Lamech, take him and make sure he suffers."


    Larxe slammed one foot onto the ground with such strength the pavement shuddered. Lamech made no move. "No."


    Cirithil stared at her as if gobsmacked. It was a moment William would treasure. "No?!"


    "No," said Larxe. "I don''t work for you. And you''re using my Lord''s troops, you stupid effeminate brat!


    "If you think I''m going to hand over Neral Dinis'' guest, you fake priests, you have another thing coming."


    "This is a matter of the church," said Cirithil.


    "Not my church," said Larxe. "And unless you want to end up flaying yourself, I suggest you step past."


    Cirithil looked to Lamech, who had made no move to enter.


    Lamech said something they could not hear to him, and it looked like Cirithil was about to lament. But that wasn''t good enough. An army was being raised here. Very soon, these gangs of thugs would be unleashed on the population of Blackfear. They''d turn them all into slaves and act like they''d betrayed Harlenor.


    And Cirithil would enrich himself further while feeling a smug sense of self-satisfaction. It had to be stopped.


    William whirled to Larxe. "Are you going to stand for this humiliation Larxe?!"


    Larxe looked up, not being the bloodthirsty person in the room. "What?"


    "You mean to tell me that you''re going to let these filthy High Priest come lately cut you out of your just reward?!" asked William. "And you call yourself an heir to the Alpha!!"


    Larxe raised a hand, then realized she was objecting to an opportunity for violence. Cirithil looked around while Lamech covertly stepped toward the men.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "Kill them!!" said William. "Slaughter them all!! Drink their blood!!"


    Dead silence as Larxe went quiet for a moment. Her eyes cleared of bloodlust for a moment as she looked lost. Then her gaze turned skyward with new resolve and wisdom.


    "He''s right!!" said Larxe. "Slash!! MAIM!! TEAR!! BURN!! SLAUGHTER!!


    "BLOOD FOR THE ALPHA!! BLOOD FOR FORTENEX!! BLOOD FOR ZIGILDRAZIA!! BLOOD, FOR BLOOD''S SAKE!!"


    The werewolves howled, and the sound echoed across the fields and hills. It went deafening terror as others came out of the hills. The men looked at them with faces pale as death, and some took flight in terror as others clutched weapons. Then, with a burning madness, Larxe charged into the undead as one and tore into them. Her bare hands ripped through a dozen momentarily as a bolt of lightning formed in both hands. Then, attacking rapidly, she ripped them to shreds. Her werewolves tore through four to five, struggling to stay up.


    The High Priest fell off his feet in surprise and scrambled away. He got stepped on by a werewolf in confusion. Lamech looked in amusement, making a clapping motion.


    "Stop them!" said a mercenary dust elf with a massive black sword among the men. "Get those werewolves back into line!" He rallied the men and charged in.


    And so the men of Harlenor rushed to defend a legion of undead from werewolves. All so they could crush innocent people later. William, for his part, walked over to Lamech, who turned to him. Halting, William looked to where Cirithil was, fleeing into the gates. Just as he passed through them, they shut with a clang.


    "I would say you''re out of a job," said William, approaching Lamech. "And, unless I''m mistaken, you have a meeting there. Arkan sent me to take his place."


    "Yes," said Lamech. "I can get in the front entrance. But you''ll be arrested if you go in that way. There''s a back door I get in by; if you go up by Saphra De Chevlon, you should be fine. You''ll have to go through the slave pits, though.


    "Follow me."


    By now, the battle had become a three-way bout of carnage. Everyone was killing everyone else, and more undead was coming to join in. The dust elf with the huge sword was cleaving undead and werewolf down like wheat. Meanwhile, Larxe was savaging everything in sight while having the time of her life.


    The two kept a respectful distance from one another as they dropped down a ledge on the green side. The emotion being released by the dead undead was very nice, but they came to a side door. Lamech turned a key, and it opened to reveal a passage.


    "Isn''t this poor defense?" asked William.


    "Blackfear is only the antechamber for the undead," said Lamech. "They''re in the middle of a power struggle. It''s the Vampire Lords against Sylvar against the Withering King. They''re fighting it on several worlds.


    "Nothing to do with you.


    "That stunt we pulled was a minor skirmish. They are going to be very unhappy after what you''ve done today. If you want to try and get to Blackfear through this death trap, I couldn''t ask for a better way to kill you.


    "Although I admit, this is the most fun I''ve had in years." More howling could be heard, and flashes of lightning were around them.


    "Thank you," said William. "Do you control Cirithil, or is it the other way around?" "I''m Cirithil will say he controls me until I choke the life from his dying eyes with one gauntlet," said Lamech.


    "Duly noted," said William. "Step aside that way before I go in, please."


    Lamech nodded. He packed away, and William played his harp to disrupt any enchantments. There were none, and the fight behind him was still going strong. So he darted through and slammed the doors.


    Turning around, William was very surprised to see a silver-haired girl. She was clad in black armor. No, she was his age with red eyes and a smile and clad in heavy black armor emblazoned with the symbol of a lion. Moving forward, she offered a hand. On the other was a huge poleaxe.


    "I''m Fayn De Chevlon," her voice had a harsh, aristocratic accent. It brought to mind the tea and biscuits Father liked. "The Baroness would like to thank you for today''s entertainment. She has asked me to guide you through the labyrinth."


    "I am William Gabriel, a pleasure," asked William as he took it. "What is wrong with everyone in this nation?"


    Fayn struggled and spun her poleaxe, and William notice. "Well, I believe Larxe is something called a man-wolf. We''d rather the human population stay alive. Undead hierarchies are deadset; they don''t change. Living creatures usually help up-and-coming powers. Ones'' are of little use to stronger undead.


    "Thus House De Chevlon''s coordination with Cirithil."


    "Manwolf?" asked William. "That is not a real term."


    Fayn turned around. "As you like it. Escorian royalty disagrees with you.


    "Follow me." And they walked down a long passage. On either side were stone walls carved with intricate and horrible details. They seemed to be emblazoned with images of macabre death, with a focus on rebirth. "You''ve given the undead a bloody nose, which is good for us. It''s tipping the scales a bit back to Saphra. She''ll have some real authority now.


    "But, we''ll have to get to her first."


    "How did she know?" asked William.


    "Well, she was planning to meet you at the front gate if you went in that way. And I was sent to meet you here," said Fayn. "Neral Dinis is very amused. I think he was getting bored and you''ve interested him.


    "The game is low stakes, you see."


    They walked until; eventually, they turned a corner and came to a door. It was huge and made of stone. Fayn set her hands to it and shoved it open.


    "What are you doing here?" asked William.


    "Accompanying Grandfather," said Fayn. "I''d never thought anyone would be reckless enough to pick a fight with Sylvar.


    "I like reckless. You really think you''re the hero in a saga, right?"


    "Everyone seems to be these days," said William. The sound of fighting continued. "I have nothing to do with this story. All I''ve done is ask some questions and heal many people. Everything else has just been self-defense."


    "You really don''t live up to expectations," said Fayn as the doors swung open to reveal a dark passage. "I was told you were a spineless, effeminate nice guy who got pushed around by his servant.


    "Instead, you''re an actual threat. Kind of screwed up a lot of arrangements long set in place. Don''t wander off; you''re only safe in my presence."


    "A year or two makes a world of difference," said William as Fayn walked along the right passage. William would have gotten lost long ago with all the different passages if Fayn had not arrived.


    "Why were you waiting right outside that door?


    "Baroness De Chevlon asked me to come up here and help you," said Fayn. "She wanted me to wait by that door if you came in that way. There was also someone waiting at the front doors, I guess. However, Larxe would never have let Cirithil lay their hands on you. She''s not stupid; she''s just in a yearly bloodlust state.


    "Every so often, her kind of man-wolf has their aggressive tendencies heightened. My guess is that if you hadn''t convinced her to attack Cirithil''s men, she''d have sent you in by the door."


    "And you don''t foresee disaster from that?" asked William.


    "Undead are pretty easygoing about life and death," said Fayn. "The intelligent ones have seen it all before. And those undead Larxe attacked were minor creatures. Though I gotta admit, you and Arkan killed a lot of them.


    "Neral Dinis was very amused. Sylvar losing those troops has weakened her enough to increase his influence.


    "Of course, if Larxe or her men get killed, we could have a problem.


    "You don''t think before you act. I feel the same way."


    "I did think," said William. "That army had to be broken up, or the people of Blackfear would be enslaved. Cirithil has been conspiring to enslave the populace here. Then sell them back to the planters up north."


    "That seems to like him. Can you prove this?" asked Fayn with a smirk.


    "Talk to King Faras," said William. "He has everything you need on the subject."


    "Are you working with the elves?" asked Fayn, raising an eyebrow.


    "Political allegiance is meaningless if the nation collapses," said William. "Cirithil needs to be stopped."


    "Well, he''s not my favorite priest," said Fayn, resting her poleaxe on her shoulders. "I''ve done some undead hunting down here, too, now and then. Grandfather was pleased. He''s got high hopes for me, assuming I can get Benarus to not disown me out of spite."


    "Why has no one killed Cirithil by now?" asked William. "He has more than overstepped any bounds of protection."


    "He''s important to many off-world officials," said Fayn. "The predecessor to Duke Marn, really. In theory, they''re supposed to regulate who gets to do business, being a divine agent. But, in practice, he just opened the floodgates in exchange for bribes.


    "House Marn was brought in to mediate things because Letan is impeccably honest. At least insofar as honesty is possible. That was bad news for Hawkthorne. We were practically running things. My grandfather would have much preferred for Cirithil to do his job.


    "Especially since he was the one who got him his position.


    "But Cirithil immediately made a bunch of off-world friends at the expense of Antion. And they refuse to let us take him out, no matter what he does. Some of those friends have connections in the criminal world; he''s untouchable."


    "Why would they like him?" asked William. "What has he done for them?"


    "It''s not what he''s done," said Fayn. "It''s what he hasn''t done.


    "See, the offworlders came here to access what they call ''markets''. They failed. Atravain wanted nothing to do with them; Letan saw them for what they were. Their refusal to respect the law meant Korlac shut them down immediately. And they insulted Edmund by tempting him with sex from a twelve-year-old.


    "The idea was to get him wrapped around their little finger. Sign some contracts, buy up local businesses."


    "Tef Lock," said William.


    "Right," said Fayn. "The fools botched it though, Edmund Telus was insulted as were the Haldrenians nobility. And those all wrote to their friends and got them to avoid them. And the Sornians hate letting other people into their markets. So they ended up with no one to do business with.


    "So, these people are fanatics. They are obsessed with opening new markets. It''s like a religion for them. Instead of worshipping gods, they worship economic trends and create mythos'' about them.


    "Cirithil was their ideal candidate.


    "When he came into power, he let them do whatever they wanted and pulled any necessary strings. So they think he is a really splendid guy.


    "But they have no alternative to Cirithil.


    "So if he were to be wiped out, they would lose everything quickly. Their actions have made them universally hated. This means that any time Cirithil gets into trouble, he can call on them, and they will give him what he wants. He has infinite resources at his disposal to pay any bribes and do any jobs necessary.


    "The truth is, Cirithil controls them. They haven''t achieved any of the goals they had for coming to Harlenor. If anything, they''ve probably lost money. But they don''t want to admit that decades of bribes have been for nothing. That would require taking personal responsibility, and they''ll never do that.


    "So they keep throwing money at Cirithil. Then he creates all these prostitution and slavery rings as a hobby.


    "He''s set for life either way."


    "So the plagues in Antion," said William, stunned. "The debauchery and ruin of so many towns. The atrocities of the Healer''s Guild and the destruction of the temples. The slaving rings of Blackfear...


    "It was all just idle amusement by a bored aristocratic?!"


    "Pretty much," said Fayn. "As I said, Cirithil is not my favorite priest."


    "That''s where most of the Healer''s Guild came from. Sen Kaba is only a front and, in reality, just banked some of it. He pulled out after the operation stopped being profitable. Most of the rest was pulled in from other worlds. They wouldn''t have any emotional connection to things.


    "I''m just an observer. I was returning to the Tournament of Kings, though."


    "How does Imogen fit in?" asked William.


    "Eh, she''s got plans to get more influence," said Fayn. "I gather she''s regarded as a loser among her own land. Apparently, she''s got a bad win record among the Goddesses of Themious.


    "I think she wanted to find a male champion to give her powers to here to expand her influence. But that didn''t go anywhere."


    "Well, I wasn''t recruited by her; Elranor recruited me," said William. "And she''s a Proxy Goddess for him. Sort of.


    "She stole it."


    "Thus her dilemma," said Fayn. "Blackfear hasn''t been the same since Tanith left it. She was professional about all this. Got the job done and did extra work on top of it. I remember I saw her in action out here. Wiped out all kinds of undead.


    "And she was the only person in Gel Carn smart enough to see that Wrynncurth needed to be put in his place. My Uncle was practically kneeling and hoping that Arengeth would come to save them. We''d have been finished if Relma Artorious hadn''t pulled Lightning Trail.


    "Did you know that Benarus tried to cut Tanith''s pay after she was proven completely right? But, of course, she walked out after that. The old fool is going to get us all killed. You never cheat your mercenaries.


    "Everybody liked Tanith in Blackfear. It''s a shame she''s of such illustrious birth. My family would have killed for a swordmaster like her."


    "Is she a friend of yours?" asked William in surprise.


    "Eh, that''s not the kind of thing you commit to," said Fayn. "We worked well together and plundered an undead tomb. Not much to plunder, but she mostly wanted the blood, and I wanted the ashes."


    "That sounds like Tanith," said William


    "Larxe and she got on well," said Fayn. "Tanith knew how to channel her."


    "So what is this Alpha?" asked William.


    "I was hoping you could tell me ''heir to the Alpha?''" asked Fayn.


    "Technically true," said William. "And it seemed like the sort of thing to get Larxe to commit violence. I know it''s a religion, but what do you know of it."


    "It''s a religion of the wolves of the world. And also some other savage creatures," said Fayn. "Basically, they believe that the Alpha was like their god. So they fed on it at the behest of Tamar, over and over again. And as they fed on it, they gained will and powers.


    "Then the Alpha appeared to them and sent them out to find many packs after banishing Tamar." They had begun to scale upward, and William was amazed at how well-managed these halls were. No cracks or anything, and it is meticulously clean. "Displays of mass bloodletting draw out the Alpha. Feasting on the corpses of sentients is a good way to get in touch with her. Or him, I don''t even know."


    "I spoke to a group of gnolls who have a different take on it," said William. "That seems to be Larxe''s interpretation.


    "What do they want?"


    "I don''t know, further instructions. Larxe is part of a movement trying to manifest it," said Fayn. "I think she plans to eat the Alpha if she actually summons it. Y''know, take her powers."


    "You mean like the Unborn God?" asked William as they approached another gate.


    "Something like that. Less omnicidal, more feral," said Fayn, drawing out her keys. "Larxe could have people cueing up to be eaten if she was just a little less completely insane. Neral Dinis keeps her decently channeled, though."


    They crossed a stone bridge, and William saw a vast hall beneath it. Unending hordes of undead were marching downward into black oblivion. Some he saw clashing with other vast hordes of different kinds. They tore one another apart little by little.


    "...Speak of Diabolus," said William. "How many of these creatures are there?"


    "Too many," said Fayn. "This area of the crypts isn''t under Neral Dinis'' control. The curse of King Anoa maintains the undead here. And the King of the Goblin King Redder. And the curse of Alchara.


    "Others have joined them over time. Although to be fair, they go to a lot of different worlds. This place is uh... detached from Erian.


    "There are a lot of curses on this place. And more are added daily from adventurers who don''t know what they are doing." They crossed the bridge, and she halted. "Hold on.


    "Corner." Turning it with axe in hand, William followed and saw the clear coast. Fayn, though looked up and down.


    "Never walk past a corner without checking it first, above or below," said Fayn. "More than a few people I worked with got knifed by skeletons or shredded by thorned vines. Others were killed by groups of adventurers who weren''t here to hunt monsters."


    "House De Chevlon uses many of them for transportation. But this region has gotten incredibly hectic." They continued on, climbing stairs now.


    "Do dwarves live in these tunnels?" asked William. How had all this been carved?


    "Well, some of them have mines that connect in the Border Hills," said Fayn. "But those tunnels are sealed by steel gates and guarded at all times. You''ve also got the Naker dwarves, but they sealed all the entrances long ago.


    "In fact, most entrances are. You''re lucky Saphra decided to let you in."


    "I was out of options," said William.


    Going through one last door, William stopped and saw a beautiful woman about Tanith''s age. She was clad in a dark leather skirt split on one side and bared an ebony-colored hip. Her hair was long and dark, and her eyes were sapphire blue, with a slender neck and toned arms. Her lips were painted dark, and she had the most enormous breasts of anyone he''d seen. Her midriff bared her thin waist while her torso was covered by a black leather top. Its neckline was cut into a low V. They showed off her-


    Do not focus on that; focus on her face, like those dark-painted, pouty lips and bright blue eyes. The lips were painted as well, and her eyes almost seemed to glow in the light. The eyes were likely the best choice to focus on. Sapphire colored, with a pale light.


    "Well, Fayn," said the woman. "I''m glad you''ve brought me my counterpart at last."


    William summoned the light of the sun''s spirit and saw that her skin was tan and the dark hue had been an illusion. However, he did not believe it as she came forward to offer a gloved hand.


    "You might know me as the Baroness of House De Chevlon. I am so very honored to meet you," said Saphra. "Though the last time we met, I was called Arraxia.


    "It has been some time, William."


    William knew that tone of speech. "Not long enough, milady."


    He took the hand.

 Chapter Thirty: Plots within Plots

    Silence reigned as William and Saphra''s eyes met in a challenge. Considering matters, William realized that this was as close to a person he could trust as anyone.


    "Saphra Delenay," said William. "I shall address you as such.


    "I believe you manage the affairs of House De Chevlon''s slave imports?"


    "And most economic matters as well," said Saphra, drawing up one black-gloved hand. She began to examine her slender fingers. "Vampires lose their ability to adapt quickly when they take power. It is one of their weaknesses that I must account for. Those vampires were base-level hunters. They were mere cannon fodder who joined for blood and immortality.


    "If they are not smart enough to flee before me when I command, they have no right to exist."


    "And which weakness led you down to the depths of this place?" asked William.


    "Unfathomable compassion," said Saphra, shifting one hip.


    "Yeah, I think you mean ''unfathomable compassion. And something else. You can''t afford to let the Heir to House Gabriel get rubbed out," said Fayn, crossing her arms with a smirk.


    "Well, William''s death would be inconvenient for me, I suppose," said Saphra. "But it''s dull to talk in such darkness; we should walk elsewhere." Then, turning around, her skirt flying around, she strode off. Her boots had long heels at the end. William and Fayn followed, and Saphra moved at a breakneck pace. William had trouble keeping up, though Fayn did not even in her armor. The two seemed familiar with one another, in a way William had not seen.


    Eventually, the tunnel branched out. On the right there was an iron gate, leading down toward red light. It was labeled;


    ''Forging grounds.''


    To the left, it was more humid, and the air filled with moisture, with tinges of moss along it. Saphra led them left, her clinging black outfit showing no signs of sway. He wondered if its only purpose was appearances, which indeed served that purpose.


    They turned left, ignoring an iron gate leading downward toward a red light. As they walked, they soon found themselves amid many flowers. The same flowers from before at that.


    "This place..." said William. "I''ve seen flowers like these before in Seathorius."


    "Yes, they''ve been growing here long," said Saphra. "They''ve been feeding on the undead that is destroyed. Those crystals above use have contained spells of sunlight cast by Neral Dinis. It keeps them growing."


    "To what the end?" asked William.


    "I rather like having my own pet garden of carnivorous plants. To say nothing of the Goddess at the center," said Saphra, stretching and moving her shoulders. The movement caused her breasts to shift appealingly. William kept his gaze on Saphra, remembering who he was talking to. She was a demoness.


    "The Flower Maiden?" asked William. He guessed that Saphra was using them to counterbalance against Neral Dinis.


    "Yes," said Saphra. "In more practical purposes, having her flowers is an excellent check on passage. And it helps prevent slaves from escaping and acts as a defense. We have, at times, come under attack from our further passages.


    "And as long as the gardens are down here, the curse on these lands is weakened. So you had some firsthand experience with that.


    "I did," said William. "I wonder why you haven''t removed Sylvar yourselves."


    "Is it the custom among human nobles to kill one another for being an enemy?" asked Fayn.


    "No," said William.


    "Well then, there is your answer," said Fayn.


    "Did Jehair help you with this? Or is she your opponent?" asked William.


    "Oh, she helps many people with many things, mostly for her own purposes," said Saphra. "I expect she has one agenda or another, but it is irrelevant. Something about destroying Harlenor, I imagine." And that was how Jehair won. She was beneath notice, and everyone died.


    Still, compared to Saphra, it was easy to slip under the radar. Moreover, she had a very magnificent presence. Eventually, they came to a final door and found Larxe waiting in a new white robe that concealed her just as much. She was crouched on the floor, smiling more naturally than before. Which wasn''t very, and since werewolves surrounded her, it would not last.


    "Neral Dinis awaits," said Larxe.


    "I am glad to hear it," said William. "Tell me, what is life like here?


    The answer seemed to annoy Larxe; she crossed her arms. "Not all that great.


    "A lot of screaming; the werewolf sleeping quarters are far too cramped. And you can''t go out hunting at all. There is only a little good game except for rabbits who survive. So you''ve got to go out all the way to the domain of Lord Tarsus.


    "That or east to the realm of House Korlac, and they hunt us. They seem to think we''re always planning to eat people."


    "Why did you seek service with him then?" asked William.


    "He has a lot of sources, and I''m trying to find the Alpha," said Larxe. "I''ve been seeking her all my life but always miss her." William highly doubted that.


    "Yes, yes, very nice, Larxe," said Saphra, walking beside her and cupping one cheek. Larxe snarled before Saphra drew a piece of dried meat from her bodice and tossed it. Larxe''s gaze went to it, and she howled and raced at her.


    Saphra caught her arm, grabbed her by the throat, and smashed her against the flood so it cracked. Six other wolves went at her, and there was an instant of flailing limbs. Then each one was smashed against the wall, the floor, or the ceiling. Larxe was up and attacking, and their limbs moved against one another.


    Eventually, Saphra caught Larxe by the throat and slammed her against the doors. Such was the force that the steel bent, and they broke inward to crash. Larxe landed beyond and stood up unsteadily to attack again, only to be floored by a final strike.


    "Ordinarily, we''d take the front gates; they are more scenic," said Saphra, walking up a set of steps. "But it will be far faster than us if we go through the slave pens. Clean yourselves up."


    William quickly healed Larxe and the others. They were too knocked senseless to do anything else. Once done, he headed after Saphra, considering the best policy to take her. The truth was, he saw no reason Arraxia had to go against him in this. Events here would only serve to undermine her as well as House Gabriel.


    "Where do you buy them from?" asked William.


    "Our usual channels have been hit hard by the abrupt peace," said Saphra. "And dear Arraxia has stopped supplying us in her infinite wisdom. It has forced Neral Dinis to get slaves from elsewhere." So that was it.


    Neral Dinis had been off from food and supplies, all but being put under siege. The High Priest had then been brought in to arrange to stock the larders. They would enslave Neral Dinis'' own people and sell them back.


    "Is there a danger of starvation?" asked William.


    "Not really," said Saphra. "Vampires can drink any kind of blood. And they can sleep in hibernation when there is no blood available.


    "But they have a natural fixation on human blood that gets worse. They can drink from corpses, but there aren''t many. And the howls of sharpened famine aren''t merely limited to this world. Everything is interconnected.


    "And everything revolves around me."


    "Arraxia wrecked everything," said Fayn. "Before she took power, the plantations and House De Chevlon got vast numbers of slaves. Usually from Seathorius. Dwarves, satyrs, and even some otters. As soon as she came to power, though, Arraxia shut it all down. She scaled back all raids and shut down all dealings with slavers."


    "Why would she care?" asked William. "And surely she is you."


    "It amuses me to sabotage my own plans sometimes. And because she realized how much the nation of Antion needed slaves," said Saphra. "If you want to wage war, my dear William, find your enemy needs. Then you deny it to them.


    "Now vast reaches of fields go untended. Angry soldiers who have been robbed plan retribution. And all the nobility of Antion are turning on one another like rats fleeing a sinking ship. There may even be a civil war, and this sad little nation will be lit again by fire.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    "I couldn''t have planned it any better myself."


    "Then you approve of the destruction of human civilization?" asked William.


    "Not in so many words," said Saphra, adjusting a glove. "And I am, technically, opposed to it. But, I just also like watching things fall to pieces for daring to cross me."


    "Do you know about the elves showing up here?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Saphra. "They landed in Sorn from Qur''Dana in small groups and came here by foot.


    "I allowed them to hunt the undead while keeping an eye on them. After that, however, they began to increase in number. At this stage, there is a small army within my borders. And they began flowing in long before Arkan began his hunts."


    "What do you think that means?" asked William.


    "I believe they were seeking to be lauded as heroes for saving the villagers," said Saphra. "And they had to throw their support behind Arkan because he got there first. Your amusing trail of destruction changed the nature of the game.


    "Before, no one was hunting undead or cared about Blackfear. Now several major powers are moving in."


    "And Lamech?" asked William.


    "A petty middleman with delusions of grandeur," said Saphra. "Of no real concern."


    "Doesn''t that apply to you too?" asked Fayn in amusement.


    "Tell me about these slave pens?" asked William, eager to change the subject.


    "If you wish," said Saphra. "Though there is nothing very interesting about them. All slaves were given enough food to survive and kept busy with important tasks. Those who perform poorly are ranked up in priority for being devoured. I also make sure some plants look threatening within the cells.


    "All of them are sedated before being devoured to prevent escape or murder of vampires. I ensure their holding areas are kept clean and have some color to maintain morale. A few shrines to various deities. Not pleasant, perhaps, but they are cattle to us."


    They went through several rows of empty cells. What struck William, however, was that even the occupied ones were clean. Straw on the ground was well kept, and everyone in them was clean, even if they had empty eyes. The slave pits here were better than any William had seen in Ascorn.


    "What is it?" asked Saphra.


    "These cells are larger than the housing for the plantation slaves. And far cleaner," said William.


    "Yes, very few things are worse for people than a tyranny exercised for the good of all," said Saphra. "Food for thought, oh avenging angel and healer of the sick."


    "Ever consider freeing them?" asked William, realizing he''d become an abolitionist.


    "Buying and selling slaves is my only real responsibility," said Saphra. "Besides, if I didn''t do it, someone else would. And they''d do something daft, like packing dozens of them into this cell or not keeping the place clean."


    "And you, Fayn, what further part do you play in this?" asked William.


    "A lot of the mines in the Border Hills have been shut down," said Fayn. "The undead and the plant creatures you saw have been spreading for some time. Many of them by the same monstrosities you saw here. I worked with Reginald and Varsus to purify one, and other mercenaries are trying their hand. But many of them are being killed, and most would prefer banditry.


    "It pays better and is a lot less risky."


    "Yes, I had intended to handle this myself, but I have many responsibilities," said Saphra.


    "I thought your only responsibility was purchasing slaves?" asked William. He wondered if she was aware of her own contradictions.


    "What do you think I am referring to, my dear golden-haired squire?" asked Saphra. "The entire market has become terrible. I have been traveling here and there to try and gain enough to satisfy the vampire orders.


    "If I don''t provide them the luxuries they want, they will do something ill-advised. And now Cirithil has tried to cut into my area of influence by going over my head. He didn''t even consult me when he tried to rally an army out here. Instead, he went to Neral Dinis.


    "Of course, I have gained an excellent supply of corpses for their use in emergencies. But they would consider that poor fair indeed."


    They were walking through apartments now with many dark-wood doors. There were no servants of any kind visible. An air of fear was about, but from who William could not say. They went up several flights of stairs, wood-paneled, luxurious, and very old. They creaked audibly in an old wood sort of way, but they seemed well-built. William saw a chandelier decorated with images of skulls.


    Until, at last, they came to a set of double doors. There was the image of a skull on the front, just between the two handles. It had a lock in the mouth, but the key was set within it.


    Here, Saphra and Fayn halted.


    "You are about to face the leader of House Dinis, a powerful vampire clan. Fear and respect are traditional," said Saphra.


    "I will deign to speak to him as an equal," said William.


    Fayn laughed. "Nice knowing you."


    The door opened without a sound. William entered a luxurious-looking area with sofas he hadn''t seen. He assumed they were from off-world. A window, far too large to be defensible, was looking out over the castle beyond. It seemed he was at the very top and had not realized it. Many kinds of wood were on the walls, well-read. There were also several lamps projecting the power of the sun''s spirit.


    On a sofa, in front of a table, sat Neral Dinis. A creature as black and terrible as any you could imagine. His flesh was pale like a corpse, though healthy, and he was completely bald. His eyes were utterly dark without pupils, and he had two horns coming from his head. He wore green robes, and one clawed hand held a book on gardening.


    "I present, the Lord of Darkness and Light, haunter of shadows," said Saphra with no sarcasm. "Lord of the Castle, and Proginator of House Dinis, Neral Dinis." And at his beckoning, she departed without a word. What kind of person could hold such authority?


    It did not matter.


    This was no time to show weakness. As William thought that, he felt Elranor tell him what to say.


    "So, you''ve parted company from Jehair and come here before me," said Neral Dinis, voice like a rasping wind of death. There was an echo in his voice as though his spirit spoke as well. "I wonder if you would not have been wiser to wander the crypts, boy."


    "Such a decision will depend on your actions, will it not?" asked William. "I am certain you know your own mind." Neral Dinis was formidable and William was feeling rather afraid.


    "That I do, but it is not wholly decided," said Neral Dinis. "Please, sit down."


    Silence.


    "Sit," said Neral Dinis.


    William did so.


    "I wanted to take the measure of you," said Neral Dinis. "Some among us think you a liar. So tell me, boy, how would you prefer to be treated?"


    "As the son of a Duke and a chosen of Elranor," said William.


    Neral Dinis halted. "...Well spoken. I must thank you for the amusement earlier, for both Larxe and myself. You have not made the people of this land lions, but they aren''t corpses yet.


    "Perhaps you can account for why you have been walking in the company of my most hated enemy?"


    "Which one?" asked William.


    Neral Dinis paused. "...All of them. At least among those present on the game board. For obvious reasons, Anoa the Bright does not count.


    "But it would be good to start with Jehair."


    "My association with Jehair is one of traveling companion and guide," said William. "She was selected for me by my mentors, Raynald and Rusara. I aim to go south to Gel Carn and participate in the Tournament of Kings.


    "I am also to meet with Adrian Wrynncurth to smooth over certain matters."


    "You seem to have become very sidetracked in that measure, human," said Neral. "If you had been heading to Gel Carn, you should have arrived a week ago, yet you are hardly halfway there from Ascorn. From what I gather, you seem to have disrupted virtually every plan in Harlenor."


    "Yes, well, I am a paladin," said William. "So it is my job."


    "I do not complain on that count," admitted Neral Dinis. "Most of your actions have served to injure my enemies. The worst you have done is speed up the loss of expendable assets.


    "Most of the forces you''ve destroyed have belonged to my enemies. And slaughtering so many of Arkan''s subordinates will be well worth it. Indeed, I''ve been able to drink many fighting men during that fray."


    "You mean Reg?" asked William. "As an expendable asset?"


    "I do," said Neral Dinis. "However, what concerns me is your presence with the Wood Elves. They have become far more active since you passed through there. I am concerned Jehair may be maneuvering against me through me."


    "Then I shall reveal all that has happened in my time, and you may judge for yourself," said William.


    "Well, the account may be interesting, at least," said Neral. "Would you care for wine?"


    "I do not think being social would be appropriate in these circumstances," said William. He drank from his canteen and wiped away his sweat. He''d only just realized how thirsty he was.


    "To each their own," said Neral.


    And so William explained everything.


    Again.


    Neral Dinis was a good listener and interjected only very occasionally. He was very interested in the Furbearers. William''s descriptions of Kata interested him a great deal.


    "Which do you think was the stronger?" asked Neral Dinis. "Kata or Sokar?"


    "I was hardly aware of Sokar''s existence," said William. "He kept himself under the radar while letting Kata lead. She seemed to do well at it.


    "However, I should warn you. You will face stiff resistance if you intend to push your claims to the Furbearers. Very few people in Haldren will be sympathetic to your beliefs. Spreading them there might lead to a crusade."


    "A point worthy of consideration," said Neral Dinis. "Go on."


    William did continue. Yet he rapidly began to think Neral Dinis had only a slight interest in this world. What interest there was came from recent events. Their meeting was a professional courtesy. Thankfully Neral Dinis did not seem to regard William as his primary opponent.


    "So, Rius had his hand forced, then?" mused Neral Dinis thoughtfully.


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "Surely you cannot believe that Rius did not know of the Babarassians and their outposts?" asked Neral Dinis. "Such arrangements would take many years of cooperation to justify. Nevertheless, I imagine he knew every location.


    "No, most port cities and towns tolerate a certain amount of corruption. I do not think Rius enjoyed your liberation of him."


    "My assessment was that he realized his error and chose to destroy them," said William. He did not want to speak ill of the dead, but it came out. "All we did was by his orders. It was strange that we should become his chief subordinates so quickly.


    "I see now that he didn''t have a real staff. Or otherwise, he was incapable of keeping their loyalty. All he knew how to do was call in foreign adventurers and turn them loose." It came about before he could stop it.


    Neral Dinis raised an eyebrow. "An odd statement from a Paladin."


    "Rius'' principal job was to keep order in Ascorn," said William. "All he did was take bribes and let people do what they wanted. But Tanith is the sort of subordinate you have to keep in line. She needs clear boundaries and direction.


    "Rius'' gave her neither, so she took over the city by accident. She can''t stop working and fighting; it''s how she hopes with the war. When he realized he''d lost control, all he could do was invite others in to fix his problems. That was as good as treason and could have led to war.


    "By the time he asserted himself, it was far too late.


    "And Sokar had as much the right to his blood as anyone ever did. With no offense, he used a similar strategy to you." William worried he might offend Neral Dinis by this.


    "What do you mean?" asked Neral Dinis, sounding more curious than offensive.


    "Well, Rius thought he was necessary and unassailable," said William. "He viewed his dominions as a distraction from his real interests.


    "The difference is that you are respected and feared. You have legitimate reasons to take the actions you do. And the losses you''ve suffered here really are minor.


    "Undead do not care about casualties. You can safely detach yourselves for a decade. Your use of Reg was quite skillful."


    "You mean to say that Rius was trying to be me?" asked Neral Dinis in amusement. "Without understanding why who I am makes me powerful."


    "In a way, yes," said William.


    Neral Dinis nodded.


    Eventually, they''d gone over the entire story together. William rapidly realized Neral Dinis was deducing much from him what he told him.


    "And what do you deduce from all of this?" asked Neral Dinis.


    "The plague was a result of the Healer''s Guild failing miserably," said William, thinking it over. "The enslavement of the Furbearers kept the Paladin Order occupied. Andoa is getting old; that''s natural.


    "Sorn profits a lot by it and has nothing more to do with things. So they know better than to directly meddle.


    "The nobility are discredited while the common people are devastated. And I''m given the destiny to normalize corruption that a lot of foreign goddesses push me toward.


    "The weakened remnants blame you or the nobles; your people are starved from Arkan''s siege. So they storm the place. Antion falls, and Escor loses support, but this can''t be Lamech. He''s not that smart and powerful. The Heir of Kings, at best, salvages what is left and accepts help where they can get it.


    "You''d need some sort of manager for all this. Someone very helpful, who hated you and has people everywhere. I think that the manager was Jehair. She knows everyone and is clearly trusted in virtually every area. She never breaks a contract; that''s why I''m still alive.


    "But, if she chose who she helped properly, she could enable the right people to set all this up. And with all the elves that mysteriously filtered into Blackfear and Faras engaging in battle with the undead..."


    Neral Dinis smiled. "Jehair turns Blackfear into an elven homeland."


    It all fit in perfectly. Yet William had not seen that last part, he hadn''t wanted to.


    He''d been traveling with her all this time, trying to figure out what she gained by it. William had all the information from near the beginning. Yet now he saw the pattern weaved since he''d left Gel Carn.


    Kiyora had been forced to get out of an arranged marriage between Kiyora and Ictargo. The seizing of the Furbearers, the plague in Antion, the subversion of the nobility. That had all happened within the gaze of elves. They had observed all of it, and pulled the strings to make them turn out how they desired.


    All done without direct responsibility for any of it.


    And all this time, William was supposed to be unknowingly shielding her. Someone to vouch for her while she was with him every step of the way.


    "Jehair..." said William, voice furious.


    William paced back and forth, quiet anger coming over him. His hand clenched, and he looked at the dim light out the window. What if Kiyora had married Ictargo? Alchara would control Seathorius.


    "Jehair..." said William, voice furious.


    What if the plague had gone unchecked, and Antion had fallen? The plague Jehair knew and planned around. It would have all been divided among criminals like Arkan and Lamech.


    "Jehair..." said William.


    What if the elves had liberated Blackfear by force of arms and pinned the blame on Neral Dinis. As Antion collapsed around them, who could complain about them coming into their own? And with the Sornians pleased by a tidy profit from selling weapons.


    Lamech and Cirithil would have seen the population of Harlenor sold as slaves to their own kind. And William would have provided cover for Jehair as his homeland was divided and given back to the elves. The dream of Anoa, of Harlenor Reunited, consumed, and bartered away. The birthright of his people had been squandered.


    William would have vengeance for this. One way or another.


    "Well, we''ve seen them all now," said William. "The priests are pigs, the elves vultures, and the criminals a pair of serpents.


    "And this serpent is finally ready to seek its vengeance." Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Neral Dinis nodded. "Indeed.


    "And we have a common cause in this. I do not like having my kind starved to death by thieves. Nor was my title as a Lord of Antion treated with contempt. You and I have much work to do."


    "I have only one condition," said William. "It must be a just revenge." And he knew it was Elranor speaking now.


    "Well spoken," said Neral. "Yet first, we must choose our moment and method. In this matter, your revenge and my revenge must be one and the same."


    So it was that William found himself in the heart of Castle Blackfear in alliance with a vampire.

 Chapter Thirty-One: Seeds of Revenge

    Rage had overtaken William, which was a rage that was not his own.


    He walked within the gardens of Neral Dinis, finding a beautiful and well-tended place. Yet he still saw no servants. Instead, Neral Dinis was tending to the planets with a set of players and looked with interest at them. He culled one limb unbefitting his purposes and pulled up weeds where he found them.It would have been surreal.


    Gel Carn could wait.


    "Where is everyone?" asked William.


    "Sleeping because they have been starving," said Neral Dinis matter-of-factly. "We''ve been in prison, you see."


    "If you and Korlac had cooperated, you could disrupt Arkan''s control," said William. "Atravain has stood alone this whole time. Had she been given help, her draconian approach would never have been necessary. Korlac hung his own brother rather than cede authority to thieves."


    "Yes, and I once knew a Kosriv Korlac. He was named by a Mother from Stalken. He distinguished himself in battle under Andoa the Bright. And he had an extensive professional interest in vampirism. So we often spoke at length, and I met with his sons.


    "Eventually, he decided it was not for him." said Neral Dinis, kneeling by a patch of earth and digging in it with clawed hands. "Corruption in those days was part of the job. First, Korlac usurped his brother with perfect legality. And afterward set to motion hanging all his political opposition with equal legality. All of them were, by default, corrupt." His hands cleaved the earth like a knife through butter, and he began to draw things up.


    "This was around the time Vanion Gabriel disgraced Borinius. So noble''s heads were not so sacred. But, of course, Vanion wasn''t rewarded for that; he''d disgraced the nobility. Soon there was a power vacuum, and Kafka used that to indulge in his worst impulses." From there, he began to draw several lumped brown vegetables. "Ah, potatoes.


    "Imported from foreign parts you now. Very healthy food for humans. Alas, I cannot eat them and never got the chance. Saphra has quite a passion for cooking, you know." He placed them into a nearby basket as he did.


    "I did not know that," said William, not seeing his point. "What of House Korlac?"


    "Arthur and Korlac then cooperated to get rid of the criminals. Arthur was the only person who wasn''t corrupt, you see. He''d been appointed to spite Vanion, but Vanion hadn''t begrudged it. But too many powerful and rich people were making money from it all. So they pulled in Arkan and, little by little, seized control of Antion and the surrounding towns.


    "During this, Vanion slipped into Artarq. He proceeded to write a series of damning reports of Argath''s actions. Frequently reminding everyone that he was the one who won the Battle of Desora. It had been agreed that Argath would run it, and all his behavior had been standard.


    "But Korlac hated House Marn as usurpers and regarded them as foreigners. So he jumped at the chance to destroy Marn. What followed was a protracted legal case that bankrupted Marn. Moreover, it badly damaged the finances of his house. Vanion disappeared off to Themious with a small band of heroes. There was also an individual named Hadleim, notable in Gel Carn and well-liked.


    "Raynald, Rusara and also Kafka and Edmund Telus."


    "Surely that would be a matter of some alarm?" asked William.


    "Well," said Neral Dinis. "There were certain destined powers that proclaimed it. Vanion had nothing to do with that, of course. Raynald and Rusara were the ones Arengeth wanted, but they would be kept from Vanion. So Edmund knew him and liked him, and the journey began.


    "Vanion assumed command of the entire thing. Azgora chose to marry him, and they returned here. Once that happened, Vanion was the leader. When Vanion returned, Argath Marn was bankrupt, and Artarq fell to pieces. So Vanion assumed command without consulting anyone. From there, he used his band of heroes to put down several revolts. The Calishans had their own problems, but Khasmir satyrs charged over the border. Vanion smashed them and installed loyal monarchs within each one.


    "It is an interesting period of history, to be sure."


    "And you''re not upset?" asked William. He found himself surprised by this.


    "I enjoy gardening," said Neral Dinis. "My associates are asleep and dreaming. Sooner or later, things should turn around, and I will awaken them. But I have lived long enough to see such things pass. There is little point in becoming upset over what will soon be dust in the wind. Everyone alive will be dead, sooner or later."


    "But surely this is a betrayal," said William. "You, as a vampire, may not care. But you, as a Lord of Antion, ought to."


    "What are you suggesting?" asked Neral Dinis, looking back.


    "I am not suggesting anything," said William. "Only there must be payment for this crime, and there will be. The books have to be balanced."


    "Has it occurred to you that I might seek vengeance on you?" asked Neral Dinis. "Certainly, you have had a part in what has been done."


    William considered his next words carefully. "I speak in grand theory, Lord Dinis. And that bears consideration."


    "It does," said Neral Dinis. Then he smiled and picked up the basket. "I used to hunt live games. However, the hobby became tiresome. There is less adrenaline in it, but I see the appeal. But first, there is someone I have been holding. A Reg Hawkthorne. What would you have done with him?"


    William shrugged. "Release him, of course." He remembered Ham''s assistance earlier; this would be repaid.


    "As you wish," said Neral Dinis. "I don''t know what Rius expected of me, but apparently, he thought it would buy favor. It might have if he wasn''t dead. There are always lessons in the death of a man. It reflects his life. I shall give him back to his Father. Shall we?"


    They waited in a little indoor glade, surrounded by bright plants with the sun shining down. William sat without his armor, and none of his enemies had seen him without it. So here he sat in a white tunic that was a bit worn. Neral Dinis was clad in a fine uniform, looking at a heart-shaped locket. It suited his pale flesh as well as hoped and reminded William somewhat of Letan Marn.


    Arkan Lantan entered the room first, clad in cloth armor, a spear, and a short sword. He had a guard beside him, a slight violation of protocol. Yet he noticed William, calculated, and nodded. A moment later, the guard departed. "A tactical error on my part. Seemingly of benefit."


    "Yes," said Neral Dinis in amusement. "It has been.


    "Tell me, Arkan, when a person forces decades of starvation on your populace, when they strip away the most basic elements to life and liberty. Do you think sufficient recompense is given just because they were a good person all along?"


    Arkan paused. "Lord Dinis, we both know your people operate on different principles."


    "I would suggest," said Neral Dinis. "That this arrangement must be made based on one Lord to another."


    Arkan sat down. "I see your point." He looked around. "You tend these plants yourself?"


    "Yes, it is a job I enjoy," said Neral. "I often think that our primal senses are how creatures truly live, rather than flesh or blood. That is the price of undeath."


    "A poetic view on things," said Arkan. "My Father had gardens like these but did not tend them himself. He fought many naval skirmishes in the old days.


    "Defeated many pirates. At least before he went mad with drink and revelry. The only statue in his honor is the one I raised for him with money raised in support of Antion."


    "Ah," said Neral Dinis. "That is not my nature. On the contrary, human beings desire to leave a mark because they will be gone soon.


    "Undeath gives one the luxury of time. Human beings often ignore physical pleasures until it is too late. Or become so consumed by them that they never know what they are. It is an interesting dynamic."


    At that moment, Saphra entered, wearing a pink apron over dark garb. William had never seen her submit to a person before. "The food is ready."


    "Ah yes, give my compliments to the cook and let them in, Saphra," said Neral Dinis. Somehow William felt the cook was in this room and felt a sense of affront.


    "Does one dismiss the Baroness De Chevlon as though she were a servant?" asked William suddenly. A risky move but one he felt obligated to make.


    "Well spoken," said Neral Dinis. "Saphra, by all means, sit down as is your right."


    Saphra nodded and did so silently.


    It was all wrong. Arraxia never felt obligated to be silent about anything. William finally understood why she was so vicious and vainglorious in Seathorius. This was far beneath her. William quickly moved beside her as if as a bodyguard, switching seats as he did so. There were several others.


    "Alright, I''m here," said Tavish as he walked in.


    This was a dangerous moment.


    William was curious to know if Tavish had seen him without his helm. He''d worn it whenever possible, and they''d worked together only briefly. Even so, his scar was quite distinctive. Tavish halted, looked to him, then to Neral Dinis, and sat down without comment.


    He knew.


    It was almost impossible for him not to. Arkan had also met William face to face, but Neral Dinis'' didn''t know that. So William was a distraction.


    "Now then, gentlemen, all the usual rules of hospitality apply here," said Neral Dinis. "Jehair, come in."


    Jehair entered and saw William with Neral Dinis. Her eyes widened, and she looked very old, though her flesh was unmarred. As though she had been betrayed. Felix came in just behind her and drew out a notepad.


    William looked to Neral Dinis, and Jehair sat down as well. "I am here to represent the people of Blackfear, who you have betrayed."


    Which left only the snake.


    "Guard, open the door now," said a voice.


    "Yes, your grace. At once," said Suran''s voice.


    "Hurry up; my time is worth something. Yours isn''t," said the voice.


    Imposing dominance on someone only doing their job. Bad leadership, and the door opened to reveal Cirithil. Who did not look at all like he''d just fled like a coward from a battle he''d started. Very noble and magnanimous, completely unaware they''d heard him at the door.


    And after he came a sunny-faced, blonde boy William''s age wearing an orange and yellow robe. He had no weapon and was smiling, but his eyes were gazing carefully.


    "Who is this?" asked Arkan.


    "This is Nagos, an associate from Namina," said Cirithil. It was spoken with a deference William did not believe. A man who cursed the gods to their face respected no one. "He has certain opportunities for us in this matter."


    "Gentlemen, I am here to represent my government, nothing more," said Nagos.


    "What is this foreigner doing here?" asked Tavish, annoyed.


    Everyone''s attention was now focused on Nagos.


    A distraction. A garishly dressed foreigner to put on display to keep people''s contempt off Cirithil. While he was present, Cirithil could operate. But why did Nagos cooperate with this? It didn''t matter.


    "May I inquire," said Saphra. "Why the magnanimous Lord Cirithil has decided to involve King Nagos. Especially since he was neither invited nor known. Your letters spoke of him in glowing praise. But I do not see that he has anything to do with our business."


    "I''ll stay quiet if you want," said Nagos. "Unless you want me gone, of course." Nagos looked at William, and William realized he knew exactly why he was there.


    What hold could Cirithil have on him that would force him into this? Well, William couldn''t say anything yet.


    "That is quite alright," said Neral Dinis. "Please dine with us. The food should arrive shortly. And you do not look to have eaten."


    The food arrived, and it turned out to be very good.


    Simple but good, and it was a pleasant evening. William kept his Black Sword out of sight, but it didn''t matter. Everyone already knew him, except possibly Cirithil, who just sat there. He ate little and listened intently, and he seemed completely different from who he had met.


    Stolen story; please report.


    Yet not in a good way.


    The conversation went on about many things, including gardens and chess. William mirrored Cirithil during it. But why? William was important, but not in this context. Cirithil was in a position to socialize, and socializing was all he''d done before now. Was he seeking to atone for past mistakes?


    That seemed unlikely, given his behavior outside.


    Some sort of reaction.


    "That Black Sword you carry, Sir Gabriel," said Nagos. "Where did you get it? I haven''t seen that color before?"


    "I knew it," said Tavish. "The scar."


    "I thought to keep a low profile," said William.


    "Your voice is less rasping," said Tavish. "What are you doing here?"


    "Being outmaneuvered by Arkan," said William with a shrug. "But, perhaps I should answer the question." He glanced to Cirithil, whose gaze became one of more hatred. William returned it in kind as he stood and broke it only to go around the table.


    William offered the sword to Nagos, who took it.


    "This I gained running a demon named Laughing Wraith, though," said William. "The blade broken into many pieces. But it was reunited and reforged."


    Nagos took it, holding the blade carefully. "I''m not a warrior. But this is heavier than most swords. It is burdened by misery and sorrow."


    "A Paladin is a man whose task is to confront sorrow and misery," said William. "We endure that others may find respite for fighting it when we are gone."


    "Do you believe in peace?" asked Nagos.


    William hesitated. "No."


    "Why not?" asked Nagos.


    "Because peace is a wasteland. One where nothing lives and nothing interesting happens," said William. "The grass is in rebellion against the wind. The land rebels against the sea are kept in check by violence."


    "I am familiar with Naminaen notions of harmony," said Jehair. "They were an immense help to my people once. But, unfortunately, the nature of the world was such that we had to embrace a destiny as warriors."


    "Jehair," said Nagos. "I''m glad to see you again. I was afraid you were dead." There was something in that exchange below the surface. A recognition of sorts. Perhaps they had met in another life.


    "Not yet," said Jehair, smiling slightly.


    Now Cirithil looked almost like a feral animal as if what happened had enraged him. But, actually, he didn''t really look like Cirithil at all for a moment.


    Yet he didn''t change position at all. Just stood there, waiting.


    "About what you said, Sir Gabriel, the constant revolution will make a wasteland as well," said Nagos. "Conflict is like a stagnant pond. But if it continues forever, there will be no pond at all. Harmony is a Father that must be respected. If you flee too far into the wilds too often, you will starve."


    "I suppose one must define harmony," said Arkan. "But Nagos is correct. This is going too far. We''ve got five hundred men wounded out there. This was supposed to be a peace meeting, and we had a pitched battle."


    "I recall that Sir Gabriel started that battle," said Cirithil.


    "That is absurd, Cirithil," said William. "I was simply doing what was necessary to save the nearby villages. The ''peasant revolt'' was calculated to make the roads safer and gain respect. You commanded the venture and took chief place.


    "I had only a supporting role."


    "Isn''t this a calculated maneuver, though," said Nagos.


    "I am a Paladin," said William. "If I am not making a stir, I am not doing my job. And I''m here because a pack of werewolves arrested me."


    Laughter from everyone except Cirithil.


    "Right," said Nagos, smiling slightly. "Anyway, we can all agree things have gone too far."


    "Yes, we do," said Tavish. "The problem is de-escalation. Now I''ve managed to settle things well with Atravain. Haldren could be a problem, but that''s not my jurisdiction. But House Korlac is starting to move. There are rumors that they''ve been assigned a position of influence in the city. If they get there, the hangings will never stop."


    "Indeed," said Arkan. "Korlac has been taking notes on every little crime he can. They say he has volumes upon volumes of evidence. He would need testimony from a few major sources. And our organizations could be destroyed."


    "Like Lamech?" asked William.


    "Lamech, what about him?" asked Tavish. "He''s in prison, isn''t he?"


    "He walked out," said William. "And he was planning revenge on me before Arkan interceded. So he already betrayed our position."


    "Lamech was acting on my behalf," said Cirithil. "Investigating the murder of my priests. It was apparently a Ham Hawkthorne, killing them off for cutting him off in traffic."


    William would have loved to throw the crimes of the High Priest out. But no one would care in this company.


    "When water is drained from one place by man," said Nagos. "There are consequences." That was overstepping himself.


    William considered looking at him and then just focused on his meal. Cirithil began to eat for the first time since he''d been here. Saphra ate as well, though she obviously did not enjoy her cooking. That was right; demons could not experience worldly delights like food.


    "This is excellent," said William.


    "Thank you," said Saphra. "Humans do not like to dwell in Blackfear. Most of us are focused on Antion. Thus it is generally best to prepare one''s own meals."


    "Yes, well, I raise a glass to our hostess," said Arkan.


    A toast was held, and Cirithil reluctantly did so. What had Saphra ever done to him? Did he just oppose being kind to other people on principle?


    Was the man truly that hollowed out? How? The gods did not do such things, only demons. But there was no taint from him. Was he seeking a personal vendetta with William? Surely his humiliation could be easily avenged elsewhere. And it was a result of his own actions.


    And how had this change happened so suddenly?


    Or was this who Cirithil had been all along?


    If so, why the deception? To corrupt those around him.


    "Let us discuss the money," said Cirithil.


    "Very well then," said Arkan. "Most of the money that we make is reinvested in markets. The general goal for my organization was to gradually go legitimate. Legalize the businesses that we focus on and own everything. The goal of all merchants, really.


    "Now, House Gabriel has dealt us several defeats, which is not bad. However, being defeated is an important part of running a successful Thieves Guild. If the law is perceived as completely toothless, the ''bad'' thieves all take over.


    "Then you have gang wars, and everything falls to pieces. You need groups of adventurers to come in and disrupt things. Kill off the worst aspects of the Guild and save damsels. Add one or two loveable rogues, and people turn a blind eye.


    "The way things stand now, we''re becoming the villains.


    "We already have prepared exit plans for ourselves. That and exit plans for our subordinates can be handled individually. However, we have a number of outstanding cash stores we could not invest. So you can only do it slowly, or people notice signs; it must all be done by proxy.


    "These stores have to be dealt with. Either moved to a different location or invested in some safe store." S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It was obvious where this was going.


    The High Priest was immune from the law. The High Priest could put the money into the statues that could be melted down. He could invest it, and they could gain some benefit in return.


    "So give it to charity," said Tavish. "Bank the entire amount to Her name."


    "Her?" asked Arkan.


    "Arraxia, Queen of Seathorius," said Tavish. "She''s rebuilding an entire castle. That will take a great deal of money and skilled labor.


    "She''s publically declared herself the ultimate god, and the satyrs believe it. And she isn''t connected with anyone in Antion. So let''s just give the money to her and deduct it from our taxes. Andoa put in all those regulations about charity; let''s use them."


    What was he doing?!


    Saphra looked vaguely interested for the first time since the conversation began. Mostly because people were finally talking about her.


    "It does not work that way," said William. "Arraxia is not formally recognized as a God by Antion. She has no temple, no priests. And if you give her that kind of money, she will use it. She is a dangerous warlord and the nemesis of the Dreaming Goddess.


    "She''s only just carved out a power base for herself in Seathorius. And while she does not technically break her word, her help goes no further than it. She is petty, vindictive, and has a god complex."


    "So, you think the fact that she is competent, well-connected, and a threat to you means she is a worse choice?" asked Arkan, generally motioning toward Cirithil. However, it could also be Neral Dinis.


    William thought about how he could answer that without supporting Cirithil. "There seems to be no choice. It is not my money, after all."


    "Now," said Saphra. "Perhaps we discuss the subject of reparations. And also, those delightful villagers you stirred into a frenzy."


    William considered what would be best. Jehair spoke first. "You could try ignoring them."


    "Ignoring them?" asked Arkan, raising an eyebrow.


    "I see," said Neral Dinis. "Just leave them in peace to starve in whatever way seems best to them? I have previously done such strategies, but a firmer grip may be necessary."


    "Perhaps you could give Saphra authority over them," said Arkan. "They could be a good trade alternative to the King''s Road. A couple of ways stops would be useful. And she is technically the Baroness De Chevlon."


    "Some have been displaced from their homes," said William. "Efforts to return her property might be in order." There was a stunned silence. Obviously, no one present could believe what they were hearing. "Many of the people have been taken from their homes unjustly.


    "It might be worth consideration."


    The stunned silence continued.


    It dawned on William how vile the people in this room were. Tavish was obviously considering the angle, at least. Saphra and Neral Dinis were indifferent. But Arkan and Cirithil could not comprehend what they were hearing. Jehair looked like one who had been in his position. No wonder she hated the human race so much.


    "If you don''t need me, I''ll leave you to your schemes," said William finally.


    "Of course," said Arkan.


    William walked out the door and remembered what Neral Dinis had told him. Lamech should be quartered in a room a little ways off with orders not to come out. Now, what to do?


    "Thrown outside too, then," said Suran, leaning against a wall.


    "Yes," said William. "Suran, what are you doing here? This seems beneath you."


    "Well, my Paladin powers have been ringing like a bell in my ear," said Suran. "My tour of duty in Ascorn ended when Sokar assassinated Rius. After that, Farwa was my commander, but she was reassigned. I had to eat, so I signed on with the High Priest as a bodyguard.


    "What was that about, anyway?"


    Explanations took some time.


    Suran obviously didn''t fully get it, but he knew enough to be disgusted. Eventually, he shrugged.


    "Well, whatever you did, you played it well," said Suran. "This was supposed to be a shakedown where Arkan got concessions to use the tunnels. Now though, it''s looking like an even match, and Jehair should be able to negotiate good terms for the people. Were you actually working for him?"


    "Well, I knew Neral Dinis and Arkan were going at it," said William. "And I was more or less opposed to Arkan and his associates, and Raynald De Chevlon sent me. So, in practice, yes and no."


    "I suppose the end result will be better," said Suran. "If that''s all you care about."


    "What exactly do you expect me to do?" asked William. "Slay them all me and product a functioning nobility waiting in the wings."


    "Nothing!'' said Suran. "I just...


    "This all leaves a bad taste in my mouth, is all. There wasn''t any need for any of this.


    "Aren''t you going to listen?"


    "I don''t need to," said William. "Cirithil forgot to dismiss Felix. He''ll tell me anything I need to know. And I''ll write things down myself."


    Suran nodded. "Neral Dinis played this beautifully."


    "Is Lamech around?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Suran. "The High Priest decided to keep him out of sight, though. In that next room."


    William nodded. "Would you agree he has a place at this meeting?"


    "Yes," said Suran. "They seem to like his sort of company. Why?"


    "I think I''ll go talk to him," said William.


    "Bad idea," said Suran. "Lamech has already decided he will stick by the High Priest. He''s trading up."


    "Hardly," said William. "They''re equal partners at this point. Cirithil just doesn''t know it."


    Walking around the corner, he opened the door and found Lamech sitting in full armor on a bed, looking out of place. He seemed to be expecting an attack and standing by polishing his sword. Once done, he raised his sword, and William raised his sword.


    "Lamech, my old friend," said William with a perfect imitation of sincerity.


    "William, what is it now?" asked Lamech, sheathing the White Blade.


    "I thought you might like to know that Tavish is in the next room," said William. "He thinks you''ve ratted on him and is out for blood, even here. If you were to enter, it could make quite a scene."


    Lamech met William''s gaze.


    He knew precisely what William was doing, but it didn''t matter. He was a Blackguard, and an opportunity to cause pain and misery was his. He had to admit that this was for personal gain if he did not take it. Then he not be motivated entirely by spite, and money would have power over him.


    "...Damn you," said Lamech, walking past him. William looked to where Suran stood up tall.


    "I apologize, had to settle a personal vendetta and got side-tracked," said Lamech. "Open the door."


    "Yes, sir," said Suran, opening it.


    "Thank you," said Lamech before marching in. "I believe I warrant an invitation, Cirithil."


    At this moment, Tavish rose in rage. "Lamech!


    "You filthy rat! I''ll carve you to shreds for snitching us out!"


    "Wait, Tavish, don''t!" said Arkan.


    And Tavish sprang out, knife in hand, while Lamech went to meet him. The blade and sword struck in a blur. It was clear Tavish was excellent and faster than Lamech. But Lamech knew how to predict his moves, so soon they struck back and forth like lightning.


    "Stop this!!" said Arkan. "Now!!"


    Cirithil smiled.


    But Saphra raised a hand. "Larxe, detain them at once."


    That was when a group of werewolves dropped down from the balconies above. Larxe caught Lamech''s sword between her hands and held it there. Two other werewolves grabbed Lamech and forced him down from behind. At the same time, Tavish was gripped by three. "You''re both under arrest."


    "He attacked me," noted Lamech.


    "I don''t care," said Larxe. "Take both of them to their cells."


    "Surely we can pardon them in this-" began Arkan.


    "No, we will not," said Neral Dinis. "We shall simply have to continue discussions without them. Now then, Arkan, I believe you want sanctuary in this domain. And Jehair wants security for it.


    "Well, I''m first going to need a ready supply of bodies to feed my thralls, taken legally, of course. And we should speak of compensation for damages rendered. This military campaign of yours has caused me a great deal of damage. Perhaps you could provide it."


    "I already have your assurances of safety for the people. Therefore, I will depart immediately and trouble you no more," said Jehair shortly.


    Nagos looked with sympathy at Arkan. "Can we remove the guards, please?"


    "I''m afraid that''s not negotiable," said Cirithil. "We must be prepared for another outburst."


    So now Cirithil had turned on Arkan to extract concessions from his earlier loss. Suran looked on in disgust. William looked to Felix. "Felix, make sure no harm comes to anyone."


    "I understand," said Felix.


    The door shut as the two were escorted out.


    "That was a dirty trick," said Suran.


    "Tavish will be released," said William. "Or so.


    "Neral Dinis'' does not want to cross King Gavin. I already put Lamech in prison once. This time I think he''ll need help to walk. He ought to have never been released from prison in the first place. He had murdered several knights already.


    "Paladins you may have worked with.


    "As for Arkan, he already sicced Larxe on me. This was why I was at the table, to invite Lamech in. He and Tavish worked well together, and Lamech instantly sold him out. Tavish treats his subordinates decently, so I thought he''d take it personally."


    "So the whole thing was an elaborate ruse to get Lamech and Tavish out of the room," said Suran. "Are werewolves often used as police? City watchman, I mean?"


    "Not to my knowledge," said William. "Though Neral Dinis did mention something to that effect. It makes sense; they can smell things well and move about quickly. They could serve well if they could control their bloodlust. Arkan has just been put in the position he meant to put Neral Dinis in."


    "His actions are mostly defensive," said Suran. "This is why using contemptible means to change the world is useless. The means create the ends."


    "Is the pay worth it, Suran?" asked William.


    "Better than back home," said Suran.


    Suran laughed. "I''ll take your word for it."


    William had never looked into Cirithil''s eyes. Why not? In fact, he has yet to directly address Cirithil, not since their first parting. It just didn''t seem proper, and he wondered why. Should he address him directly?


    He was the High Priest.


    Well, there was no time for it now. Jehair and Felix met him at the gates, and Massacre was sleeping. Things seemed better out here, the greener a few birds, but still desolate.


    "I have a complete record of the meeting," said Felix. "Nagos'' support has let Arkan hang on to some wealth, but he had to cough up the locations of some of his treasure troves. Cirithil is sending men to collect them now. But Nagos managed to arrange the release of Cirithil''s taken slaves, such as there were. I think both will want to stick to something other than the bargain.


    "There will be blood for this, I''ll tell you."


    "Why has no one killed that man?" asked Jehair. "Nature would never allow such a creature to exist."


    "It seems to have," said William. "And there is precedent to consider."


    "Oh damn precedent," said Jehair, walking. "There is something evil about him. I didn''t see it before, but I feel it now."


    "How would you want to be treated?" asked William. "If you were in Cirithil''s position?"


    "You loathe the man," said Felix. "We all do."


    "Well, I don''t have to like a person to have consideration for them," said William. He was trying to remember what Cirithil looked like. It was harder than it ought to be. "And what about Arkan?"


    "Well, I imagine he''ll lose his assembled fortune," said Felix.


    "Meanwhile, Tavish is now severed from Arkan, leaving him only with Lamech," said Jehair.


    "Then we may see some very bad men hung," said William.


    "Where to now?" asked Felix.


    "Gel Carn can go straight to hell!" said William. "The Tournament is off!"


    And he walked toward Fenus'' Inn.

 Chapter Thirty-Two: Decay

    No one said anything.


    Massacre met them lying in a road, and they walked together beneath fading trees as the wind howled. The road went from cobblestones to dirt and here and there were ruined towers. Cursed places where ghouls stalked and men dared not tread. These they destroyed out of principle, but they did not venture below. And now and then they had to fight off attacks.


    "I don''t have a problem with this," said Larxe. "They aren''t my ghouls or Neral Dinis."


    William called a halt to eat as things began to get dark. Larxe was munching on a rabbit she caught by hand and was not sharing any. When she finished, she threw it to her wolves, each taking turns biting from it. For his part, William ate what he had been eating this whole time. It was a kind of track that did not make you thirsty and reasonably easy to eat.


    Uncle had given it to them, and it tasted far better than the stuff from Artarq.


    Eventually, Larxe offered William the rabbit.


    "Eating raw meat is unhealthy for humans," said William. "We have to cook it, or we get sick."


    Larxe looked disappointed. "Suit yourself.


    "So, what is going on?"


    "Yes," said a soldier, coming forward. He was a massive man with a beard around his lips and a scarred face. His head was bald, and he had huge muscles. "What is going on?" He was a Sornian man and looked bitter. "We came here to help crush a rebellion, and you Harlenorians sick your dogs on us."


    Larxe stood up, and her wolves did as well. The men held their ground, and things seemed about to go ill.


    "Let me explain," said William.


    "Why did you sic that creature on us?" asked a man accusingly.


    "I sicced them on the undead," said William. "It was either that or be at Cirithil''s mercy. And he called you here under false pretenses."


    "You weren''t here to crush a rebellion," said Jehair. "You were here to help enslave the population of Blackfear so Cirithil could sell them as slaves."


    Silence.


    "Jehair... explain," said the man. "Now. What is going on?"


    And that was how William was abruptly drawn into a lengthy explanation of his adventures. And he had to do it several times, starting over as more troops came by. It was fortunate that no one seemed to particularly care for Cirithil.


    However, William gathered that no one had been enthusiastic about putting down peasants. Since Anoa the Bright''s laws, peasants did not exist. There were only commoners with training as militia. Cirithil''s actions were viewed as a tyranny, and most of them had taken his payout of desperation. Nonetheless, negotiations would be tense if William hadn''t had a chimera with him. And he felt very bitter about inadvertently causing the battle.


    "His actions don''t require defense, Finn," said the swordsman from before. He had appeared suddenly. His dark hair fell around his gray features.


    "What do you mean?" asked William, hesitant.


    "You acted according to your contract," said the swordsman. "You are obligated to escape and complete your mission. Our contracts put us at cross purposes. Therefore we have no quarrel."


    "We lost the contract because of them," said Finn, stretching his arms.


    "I had orders not to deliver William Gabriel to anyone but Saphra De Chevlon or Neral Dinis," said Larxe. "Cirithil is nothing but a frontman." And she took another bite of rabbit.


    That settled things.


    "And you are?" asked William.


    "Garrick Estov," said the man. He was short for a dust-off, and William caught scale armor beneath his cloak. His sword was giant, almost as tall as him and half as thick as his body. How did he wield the thing? It was more like a straight cleaver. "Where do you go now?"


    "At present," said William. "I have been considering turning around. But, unfortunately, I''ve faced a lot more resistance here than expected. And I''m concerned I may be killed."


    "I see your point," said Garrick. "Had you time to collect yourself, you would realize you are very near Gel Carn. You need only get over the Border Hills and then over the river. I will be going there to the Tournament of Kings. I wish to observe the fighters."


    "Fenus won''t be able to pay you," noted William. "So unless you want to bargain for land, you won''t be compensated. Though there are many lands out here if you could get rid of the taint."


    "I say we get our payment from Cirithil," said Finn. "He owes us big for this."


    "Either seems reasonable to me," said Garrick. "It might be wise for us to speak with the other captains and agree on a united front. If all goes well, we shall profit extensively from this."


    William had no doubt that Cirithil''s ill-gotten gains would all be eaten up by transport costs. He didn''t have a ready supply of labor to go find it, with the citizens of Blackfear being his enemy. And even if he went out to find more, every day he waited was time Arkan could use to relocate the money.


    The High Priest would gain virtually nothing by his evil deeds. But then, money had never really interested Cirithil. On the contrary, he seemed to enjoy taking advantage of Arkan more than the benefit he got from it. Somehow, William doubted that Cirithil cared about his gain so much as another''s loss.


    "Something wrong," said Garrick.


    "Don''t work for Cirithil," said William. "The man is evil. Whatever contract you make with him will likely be violated. Assuming you live long enough to demand payment."


    "He may be right," said a tall, orange-haired woman in leather armor. "This contract has just been one disaster after another. I think we should seek a more reliable employer."


    "There is a difference between money and value," said Garrick. "One can only understand the worship of Coinfurth once they know this difference. I am concerned with value. Sir Gabriel, there are standing stones on a hill near here. They should be safe, for they belong to Isriath. Will you follow me?"


    "I will," said William.


    Garrick led them on, but Jehair looked on in distrust. They moved off the path and came up onto a hill, where there stood three stones. They jutted out of the greening hills like jagged teeth where they rested. There they were, eating and drinking from their supplies. Neral Dinis had given them black bread, which was challenging and hard.


    "What are these standing stones?" asked William.


    "This was once a gathering place for the common fairies to Gel Carn," said Jehair. "They used to dance here, or so it is said in old tales. Anoa the Bright, though, drove them out. Now they no longer gather anywhere, and only the trees remain." She looked up. "The aura of darkness in the place is gone.


    "It''s just a dusty old set of ruins filled with bones."


    "It is at this stage irrelevant," said Garrick. "Cirithil interrogated Arkan to get access to his illegal goods. "Cirithil has defaulted on his debt to me. And now pretends as though there was no arrangement. He refused to sign a contract earlier and pretends not to remember."


    "What was the promised pay?" asked William.


    "Something appropriate for one of my power," said Garrick. "I often work with verbal agreements. And I wanted to judge his character. Arkan was always honest insofar as his position allowed."


    "What was your arrangement with Neral Dinis?" asked Jehair.


    William explained that part in total. He hadn''t gotten to it before though he omitted the apparent position of vengeance on Jehair. Larxe stayed away from the stones, sitting on her haunches with gloved hands on the ground. Her blue eyes were peering unblinking in the light, and she said nothing as her wolves came up behind her.


    "A legal attack?" guessed Garrick.


    "I made it a condition of cooperating with Neral Dinis that the attack is made honorably," said William. "Since we have an excellent means of attack in that direction, I see no reason he would not cooperate. My Father has always taught me that bloodletting is a simple solution."


    At that moment, there was a flash, and Kiyora appeared in black pants and a shirt. She landed and kneeled down cross-legged. "Hey, William."


    "Kiyora, where have you been?" asked William, accustomed to her being in and out.


    "Oh, moving this way and that," said Kiyora. "I just directed a guy named Joseph Korlac to a pirate cove near the coast. Lots of stolen treasure and slaves, and Korlac is having all the pirates hung. They were carrying malas."


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "An alternative shipment from Khasmir, no doubt," said Garrick. "Do you profit by this?"


    "Yes," said William. "But not in money."


    "This is hardcore," said Kiyora, looking on in interest. "Oh, when you''re done here, William, I''ve got a job for you. Long story short, a band of murderous satyrs lives some ways from here. Find their hideout, kill them all. They''ve been raiding the countryside and have killed quite a few people.


    "Came in to join after the undead started fighting people. I think they were put up to it by priests, or so Tyrasa says. You know her, right? She says you do."


    "Why?" asked William. Why had Tyrasa referenced him? He''d only met her briefly.


    "Eh, I''ve seen their handiwork. But, doesn''t exactly scream redeemable," said Kiyora. "No women or children, but you can judge for yourself. They''re a bandit gang.


    "Follow me; I''ve called in some people to help out.


    "Oh, um, might want to know; there''s some church guy there too. Cirithil, I think."


    "What?!" said William.


    "How is that even possible? We haven''t been moving that slowly," said Felix.


    "He might have had the meeting set up in advance," said Garrick. "If he rushed off the exact moment after we did and rushed for the Black Mountain without stopping..."


    "He could outpace us," said William. "He was never this fit or determined before."


    "He might have the support of Neral Dinis or some other power," said Garrick. "If so, his progress might have been sped. Someone has a serious grudge against humanity."


    "It doesn''t matter who it was," said William. "We cannot allow our own people to be sold as slaves. Get moving, now. I''m going to try and rustle up some more help here."


    "I am not going with you," said Garrick. "I have seen the people of this land. They need to be stronger and have real value. It is good that they began resisting the undead but took measures too late. It is against my principles to go to their rescue."


    "Why you heartless son of a bit-" began Kiyora.


    "Kiyora, calm yourself," said William. "I thank you for the conversation, Garrick. It was enlightening, and your help here has been invaluable. Gods protect you."


    "You as well," said Garrick.


    "Well I won''t be pulling for you, Garrick," said Kiyora in a huff. "Last I saw, the satyrs were arguing about price. This is going to take a lot of work."


    "I''ll see this for myself," said Larxe thoughtfully.


    And shot off in a blur.


    "Damn that woman moves fast!" said William.


    The path took them over the ruined stones with a haze of blue. The stars were coming out little by little, and they moved on anyway. Hours of labor passed without complaint, and yet William felt himself becoming tired. The Black Mountain in the distance grew nearer and nearer, and they passed many towns.


    Each had been seized, and old men and women were killed and thrown on the ground. Some had been torched and looked at, but all the corpses were old. Empty village after empty village went between them. One or two who held out spoke of satyr raids coming in the last night. They asked William to free the satyrs.


    "I go to save the people the satyrs have been taken," said William. "Who will go with me?"


    No one volunteered.


    "No one?" asked William. He''d been expecting cries of enthusiasm.


    "It''s not our village that was taken," said a villager. "We''re in this for ourselves." And there were murmurs of approval.


    "Why should we care about you, knight?" asked one. "We''re not dying in droves just so you can take the credit."


    "What of vengeance for your countrymen?" asked William. "Those taken and even now being sold for slaves!"


    "What of them?" asked another. "We don''t know them. And now their land will be ours. Neral Dinis can''t get rid of all of us."


    "Fine," said William. "I hope you remember those words when you''re the last village they come for! I''ll go on alone if I have to! You may remain in your hovels and rot!"


    Garrick had been right about this lot at least.


    William got a similar reaction from several villages. A few were more apologetic about it all, and he could not blame them. But, oddly enough, the chirping of birds had gotten louder and louder. They saw wolves at night, not all of them Larxe''s. There were vultures and bears, all gathering in numbers he had never seen.


    The hills thinned out, and they were finally drawn to scale up rocky slopes. It was easy to hide here, but there was an old path. Jehair took them along it, and it had been cut from the rock long ago. However, all the cobblestones that had once been there were wiped away.


    "Where is Massacre?" asked Felix suddenly.


    William looked around. "She''s gone, I think. Gone off before we met those villages."


    "Perhaps she thought you''d be able to gather forces from the villages," said Jehair. "She''s not a tame chimera best friend."


    William did not laugh, though he appreciated the attempt at humor. Yet it occurred to him that this was Jehair''s responsibility. She was known here and must have known of what was happening. How weak they were.


    Yet effort had yet to be made to strengthen them. She was a spirit of this realm and had a vendetta against humanity.


    "I think the warrior spirit of Harlenor has waned greatly in Antion," said Jehair. "When King Andoa phased out the militia system, hardly anyone had actually abided by it. Only now that the wolves have come out do they realize their mistake."


    "I resent that remark," said Larxe. "We wolves have always been here. And we only eat humans if we''re really desperate. Not really worth the hassle.


    "Except for the Alpha, of course." Right, the bloodgiving werewolf god.


    Jehair was rationalizing her actions.


    "You truly are completely neutral, aren''t you?" asked William, looking at her.


    "I am a druid," said Jehair. "It is my job to be neutral. Perhaps we could seek aid from Farwa-"


    "This has nothing to do with the elves of Qor''Dana," William stated quickly.


    Coming along, they then saw the city. It was the city William had seen before in his match with Isriath. Though it was a burned-out ruin, it still stood, and all the ages had not beaten it down. It had a tattered beauty, with once bright walls turning gray. Elegant spires were broken here and there, though it was not much larger than a large village.


    Yet it was defensible and well made. William felt sad that it should have remained in ruins for so long. Had it been a mark of respect that had made Anoa declare this place to go uninhabited? Or was it simply unnecessary? Or had he just felt that it would not be right?


    Whatever it was, what he saw before it in torchlight was an abomination. S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    There was Cirithil, illuminated by two torches and in new white robes. His hair was ragged, and his face strangely pristine. Around him were many men inclined to be fat. They had guards who looked more like thugs and had a sneering disposition. Some looked dead-eyed or bitter, and their gaze kept going up to a field of stakes raised upwards before the city.


    To one side were satyrs; many were drinking and dancing, and some were fighting. Many kegs of beer had been set up around them. And beyond them were ranks upon ranks of people in chains. Priests were holding them.


    "A peculiar satyr tradition," said Cirithil as if in a sermon, and he motioned to the stakes. There were lump shapes on them. "Not to my taste, but ultimately a legitimate ritual. We must tolerate other faiths as we bring them into the light.


    "What we have here is an outstanding achievement. These satyrs will now profit immensely from us as enforcers. Using them, we shall end the regrettable era of violence. We will enforce a civilized, thrifty class of commoners. Naturally, there will have to be more regulations, curfews, and binding to the land.


    "The old ways of free movement from one land to another must be put behind us for security.


    "Unfortunate, of course. But they have used their freedom to attack legitimate business interests." William was drawing nearer now and having a horrible feeling about the lumps. Cirithil hadn''t even gone after the treasure; he''d come directly here. "These here will serve as a demonstration. To enforce discipline on an unruly population. There will be some resistance from... problematic members of the nobility.


    "I''m sure Elranor will understand our concerns." Clapping from the men as William approached the stake, Cirithil raised a hand. "After all, when you look at it from the right perspective.


    "This, too, is of the gods." And he motioned upwards.


    William Gabriel saw what was on the stakes. And he saw the blood-soaked merchants avert their gaze. Instead, they congratulate one another on future profits and vision. They looked more like pigs in the light than men, feasting on meat sticks as they squealed in praise. Their voices could not distract, however, from what he saw there.


    "Babies," said Jehair, eyes wide and handshaking as she saw it.


    "Give the order, sir," said Felix, putting a hand to his sword.


    "Don''t talk damned nonsense," said William, and for the first time, he looked at Cirithil. Really looked, and he knew why he hadn''t done it before. Every bit of hatred and wrath at the injustices around him poured out at once. "All your ways have been evil, Cirithil! Betrayer of your church, murderer of your flock! Debaucher of young girls and slaughterer of your kin!


    "Your people clapped in chains and your sermons but falsehood for worthless minerals! Employer of monsters!" He motioned to the merchants. "Benefactor of ghouls and butcherer of the innocent! You have betrayed in spirit every law and custom of Harlenor! And now used the corpse of the bride you murdered as a shield!


    "Even as you plot to usurp the gods, you should view them as masters!"


    Cirithil smirked in triumphant self-satisfaction. The satisfaction of a man who has seen the worst of sins and cares not. The very notion of empathy for murdered children was a subject of scorn. "What of it?"


    These men, these creations with a divine spark, laughed.


    Laughed and laughed uproariously as though it was all the funniest thing in the world. All the merchants laughed as they pointed at him as though he were a court jester. Laughed, laughed with mocking scorn at William. At Elranor, at the very concept of good itself.


    And then, all of a sudden, Cirithil''s eyes widened, and he wasn''t laughing anymore. His voice caught in his throat, and he choked out a cry of dismay. Then he stepped back in terror. A hoarse, wailing scream came from his mouth as he backed off and fell to the ground. Rolling on the ground, he wailed, and the merchants looked around in alarm.


    At that moment, the satyrs ceased their revelry and drew swords. All of them raced toward the merchants whose guards abandoned them at once. But the guards did not get far and soon were surrounded and forced to fight. Madness overtook all of them as they hacked and slashed so that soon there were no sides. Just men killing other men, cutting eyes, and choking throats.


    Their eyes were dead as if their souls had already gone to hell.


    The priests, staring in horror, dropped their chains and fled up the mountain.


    But even as they did, Felix and Jehair were in front of them, weapons readied and out for blood. They turned but found Coalmarsh and Ata appearing to one side with villagers with pikes. And no quarter was given when the priests howled for mercy this time.


    Now there were only the merchants, snatching what goods they could and running.


    Out of the rocks came wolves and beards and birds of all kinds. They descended on the satyrs. Soon they were tearing them apart with a rage uncharacteristic of animals. Jehair was with them, and the battle soon scattered. These satyrs were unlike those in Khasmir; they had no real courage and fled. Yet their eyes were pecked out by birds.


    The merchants were fleeing down toward the towns. But Larxe and her werewolves came up the mountain with rage. And with them were many hungry vampires. The merchants pleaded and sobbed for mercy in vain as the feast began.


    Blood was drunk in rivers as a great feast ensued. The screams of the survivors raised to high heaven, and William could feel nothing. Larxe and her kind remained separate as husks that moments ago had been men shattered on hard stone. Their fine clothes were all that marked them as the vampires shrank away with the coming of dawn. Finally, the beasts left, and Jehair and Felix sat down to rest. Meanwhile, Coalmarsh and his men freed the terrified slaves.


    They were unhurt.


    That left only Cirithil raving and screeching on the ground. Blood poured from his eyes and fingernails as he raved and babbled.


    "Cut them down, for Elranor''s sake," said Coalmarsh to the freed slaves. "Give your children a decent burial."


    Then William looked to one side and saw Maius looking bitter as well. She wore now simply, natural white. Moving over to her, he halted. "Was this your doing?"


    "Not the stakes," said Maius. "I didn''t plan any of this.


    "All I did was set up a trading system years ago. Years. Satyrs don''t value money, so I convinced some merchants to bribe them with beer. Get them to go away, or use them as mercenaries. It worked for Lord Tarsus; I never thought this would happen."


    "You are a god," said William. "But you do not control how mortals use your gifts. So these people will need all the help they can get."


    "Yes," said Maius. "They will."


    "Who let Cirithil do all this so quickly?" asked William.


    "Isriath owed him a favor for the brothels," said Maius. "We can''t break our word. All he asked was that he go swiftly and uncontested.


    "We didn''t control what he did with it."


    Isriath appeared then, clad as though for the morning. "What now?"


    "Isriath," said William. "This land can long stay unoccupied. These people will need a home. That fortress is as good a place as any.


    "Will you allow them to dwell there for a time?"


    "It is the least I can do," said Isriath. "I shall speak to Elranor and speak to them in turn."


    And Isriath went to Coalmarsh, who was tending to the funerals. His conversation appeared to have been observed. And many of those men who had come with Larxe were sharing a bitter drink. Some of the villagers went to join them after the rites were complete.


    "Who gave them this beer?" asked William.


    "The Naker dwarves," said Maius. "They trade for slaves so they can use them to till the fields. That way, they can all be craftsmen and warriors. Lord Tarsus abolished slavery in his land, but they went by their own laws.


    "Amazing what happens when you''re drunk. Everything seems right with the world until it isn''t."


    William moved over to where Cirithil had begun to gnaw at the post while sniveling. He looked like an animal. He was less than an animal since he was hurting himself. His hands were bloody from scraping at the ground.


    Coalmarsh approached and looked torn between being sick and satisfied. "Well, all he ever wanted to do was disgrace his position and avoid responsibility. So I should say this satisfies all parties."


    "What will do with him?" asked William.


    "Put him in a Sornian asylum and pretend he''s still High Priest," said Coalmarsh. "It isn''t as though he minded any of his responsibilities. And the last thing we need is one of his friends taking his place." Then he kicked Cirithil away from the post and tied a rope around his neck. Cirithil bit him, and Coalmarsh snapped.


    Coalmarsh backhanded him across the face. Then he kicked repeatedly in the gut in a rage until Cirithil screamed in terror. Then, grabbing him by the hair, Coalmarsh smashed him against the post and let him fall.


    "Shut up, cur," said Coalmarsh. "I would kill you on the spot if I didn''t balk at the thought of your potential successors. Better to have a madman for High Priest than the alternative."


    Given the situation, William could hardly hold it against him. Moving forward, he healed Cirithil on reflection. He wasn''t even sure why he did it, so he looked to Ata. "You have no objection to this, Ata?"


    "The man named Cirithil died a long time ago," said Ata sadly.


    William shrugged. "I would not presume to meddle in church affairs.


    "Who runs the temple now?"


    "Me or no one, I think," said Ata. "Most of the proactive members of the clergy have been killed by now. They used their healing as cover for making business arrangements. There are still Rundas and Bishops, but they have their own lands to mind. And Rundas has been talking about going into hermitage.


    "Seeing Cirithil in his full glory has sickened him.


    "All of the others are up-and-coming initiates.


    "So I am now de facto High Priestess by being the only one left. Coalmarsh is from the Haldrenian church, so he can''t do it.


    "You know, he did import some lovely art. Had good artists made it?


    "He never looked at any of it, though. Not once."


    And they walked off, carrying the unconscious High Priest to an eight-by-eight cell. The posts were cut down, the children were buried, and the people of Blackfear began to build a shelter.


    It was not enough.


    William looked to Larxe, who nodded. Then, moving over to Jehair, who looked older than ever, he halted. "Are you alright?"


    "I think I''m going to die soon," said Jehair. "Mentally, anyway.


    "The Jehair you see in a bit will be younger. I''ve seen too much."


    "Well," said William sadly. "I think we can gain retribution for some of this before it happens. This seems to confirm what we suspected about Tavish''s outpost up there. These men must have come over the mountain."


    "Yes, you''re right," said Jehair. "It is now the lynchpin of their operations. If we find it, all we need do is reveal its location. Once that happens, a guard can be posted down here and regulate the trade route.


    This may be less of a stalemate after all.


    William looked to Larxe. "Larxe, we''ll need you as a tracker. We''ve thieves to hunt. First, I want to find the outpost they set up on the Black Mountain."


    Larxe smiled happily. "It''ll be a pleasure."


    William had the feeling she''d be wagging her tail if she had one.

 Chapter Thirty-Three: The Duel

    Larxe led them on quickly and quietly and seemed changed somehow. Her expression was contemplative as she ambled up the slopes. As the moonlight shone down, wolves howled at it, and she turned her gaze upward on the slope. For a moment, she was framed by the moon''s light, like a vast shadow. Then she hunched down to smell the ground and rushed on gloved hands and booted feet, moving like a wolf.


    She would wait for them to catch up now and then, yet she did not speak much.


    All the werewolves seemed different. Something about the horrific event they''d seen had been of immense importance. Almost a divine revelation.


    Which it was, of course.


    They had been starving and fed with their enemies'' blood. And it had been the right thing to do. The vampires and werewolves had been the heroes and were rewarded. They have been given what they desired with approval from Elranor.


    "What will you do now?" asked William. "After this?"


    "The Alpha has spoken to me," said Larxe. "We must shift our bloodlust to more subtle means. Our wrath is satiated differently.


    "Now, let''s find something to kill."


    William had no idea why these events were of significance to her. But it was not wise to judge a werewolf.


    Up the slopes, they went at a rapid pace, moving through the trees on the craggy slopes, covered in moss and crabgrass. The cliffs above them glared down in the fading light as trees clutched their heels. Trees looked down from above near the peaks and gazed upon them, providing cover. Behind them, the city of Isriath now looked genuinely insignificant. And those working there looked sad and miserable, clinging to life and what hope they could. Isriath''s music played throughout the hills but was of little comfort.


    "It is a beginning," said Jehair, looking half-dead though she was not slowed. "It''ll make a good trade outpost. And it is better that we found it than Arkan or his ilk. It has been founded by slaves instead of slavers, a least."


    Suddenly, Larxe tensed and growled before dropping low. Everyone did the same. William went down too quickly and banged his knee, feeling aches from the road. How long had he been traversing this path? He was exhausted. He became aware of the clanking of his armor and the sweat on his body. His eyes were unfocused as he tried to stay low. Larxe glared at him.


    "What is it?" asked William.


    "There are watchers up ahead," said Larxe, sniffing. "Massacre, stay behind, you''re too big, and they''ll see you coming. Follow me, and don''t make a noise.


    "Take that armor off and ditch it."


    "But-" began William.


    "Now!" said Larxe.


    William nodded. "Felix, help me with this."


    Taking the armor off took time, and he hated to strip it off him. Every piece he took off him made him feel more and more naked. Even so, the weight coming off him was heavenly, and with each fallen piece, it improved. The aches and pains that built up over his journey were lessened as he shed the last.


    Now he stood only in his white tunic and pants, with dirt-stained books and sweat. The cool night air on his face sent his hair flying as he breathed the free air.


    Larxe eyed him carefully as he drew off his helm and breastplate, now clad in his tunic.


    "You''re cute," said Larxe. "I was expecting someone a lot leaner and more... wolfish."


    "I''m pleased you think so," said William. "Felix, guard the armor. And wait for us here."


    "Right," said Felix. And he began putting the armor carefully into place.


    They hurried up the slopes as the evening went on and became less tall. William''s aches were pressing at him, and there was only so much he could do with his healing magic. He wondered what he looked like and if he looked anything like he had when he left the port of Arsheen with Tanith. It seemed like such a long time ago, yet virtually nothing had changed.


    Everything was the same as before, only with different names.


    Or was it? Had William changed things? The people he had healed were better off. Elranor must have been using him to achieve his designs.


    But now and then, they saw men with bows looking out. Larxe slipped out from under them, knowing every stone. It was a rocky and desolate place, leading ever higher and left of the peak. The winds whipped through their travel-worn clothes to chill them. But Larxe pressed on. At last, they came over a rise into a shallow part of the mountain.


    There they saw the fortress.


    It was built much the same as the city Isriath had lost. Yet it had a stockier base and was tall rather than wise. Lookouts were on every turret, and William could see convoys approaching it from the other side. In the distance, William saw the Haldrenian straight. And also Ascorn, looking nearer than it was. To the west along the shore, he saw Magicora of the same design as the fort. Yet it was new and wonderful, with stones that coursed with magic and shimmering lights.


    Many of the convoys were coming from it, and they were stopping at a nearby village. It was walled with stone but not defensible. William guessed that the dwarves who dwelled there would flee into the fortress. Yet they had no fields, and William guessed they''d had a trade for some time. There were two smiths, and the oxen were being used to haul cargo.


    That was bad news. It meant they had contacts and had been here for some time.


    "Why would no one have known of this?" asked William.


    "They probably only shipped legal goods," said Larxe. "Merchants had likely used this path long before Tavish did. Those archers are dwarves.


    "They probably kept the malas off to avoid notice. Likely until they had more control of Blackfear and contacts in Escor. Not a lot of market in either place for malas or other poisons. The King of Escor would never allow it.


    "Make camp."


    Here they made camp such as they could. Larxe and her wolves sheltered under the trees and huddled together for body warmth. William set out to a camp, satisfied that he''d learned to do it, and enjoyed the rest. The earth here was soft and springy, far better for resting on, and he felt relieved to have the chance.


    Some of the more rested wolves were sent out as scouts. And more werewolves were coming up behind them in the night. They came with an immense speed, and William wondered how many there were. Larxe was pacing back and forth in frustration. Meanwhile, Jehair meditated with her knees crossed. Her arms were crossed under her breasts, substantial even hidden by cloak. Her hair blew as she gritted her teeth. Normal teeth except for fangs.


    She''d almost be cute if he had not been born witness to her bloodthirsty nature. Jehair, meanwhile, looked older than ever. They ate in silence, Larxe tearing through meat wolfishly.


    "Why scents?" asked William after a moment.


    "Once we have that," said Larxe. "We can follow them to where they make their deals. If they are doing anything illegal, we''ll crack down at once. And we''ll lose their backers a lot of money."


    "Why do you appear human?" asked William suddenly. "None of the other werewolves have."


    "I prefer my human form," said Larxe. "I don''t need to be a wolf to smell and devour, and I''ve trained myself to do both in human form."


    "Do the others have names?" asked William.


    "Maybe," said Larxe. "We don''t much care for names. I speak for us, and Neral Dinis commands. That is all we need."


    "I''m surprised they built this fortress on the eastern slopes," said Jehair. She motioned down toward the village. "It looks very well defended, but how could they support themselves?"


    "They likely import it," said William. "This place would be an ideal location for a smuggler base. And with the coves we found around Ascorn, they could likely move food in secret. Especially with Rius refusing to do his job."


    "I say we sack it," said Larxe with a smile. "Come back with an army, kill them, and drink their blood. What do you think, Jehair? Just like you did to the old Malice sixteen years ago." Her tone was filled with hatred, and the old bloodlust was returning. And she was smiling in joy, an odd combination.


    "I have no desire to repeat your humiliation Malice," said Jehair.


    "What are you talking about, Jehair?" asked William, seeing Larxe on the verge of a leap.


    "I killed the old Malice in single combat," said Jehair. "And I nearly died myself.


    "It took a great deal of effort to maintain my current identity. My work had to be completed. I guess Larxe is remembering."


    Time to change the subject. "In any case, we can use them, Larxe," said William. "This base operates by secrecy. Sack it, and they''ll rebuild it and start again."


    "And it is of the same design as the one Isriath built, a mix of elvish and human architecture," said Jehair. "Good defenses, but not modern. All we have to do is mark every convoy that goes through.


    "With everything that has happened, Arkan will be down to his last few ventures. If his next shipment run doesn''t work out, he''s done. Savior''s Run will be his only lifeline."


    "Won''t they just kill him then?" asked William. It seemed like something Thieves would do. Although at least he knew Vorn''s plan would further damage their enemies.


    Best not to mention that here. It could get out.


    "They can''t," said Larxe. "Or we''d have done it a long time ago.


    "Arkan is a royal servant. Murdering him would be an attack on the crown, so they wouldn''t dare do it. But even if we intercept the convoys, they''ll just use our race against us.


    "Who will believe a werewolf."


    "...What if you work for John Korlac," said Jehair. "He has needed power for some time. You could be invaluable if Neral Dinis'' makes an alliance with him.


    "Your sense of smell could run down every vagabond."


    This seemed like a very dangerous triumvirate. If Jehair worked with Larxe and then coordinated with Korlac...


    It would be the essence of simplicity to shift Alchara''s plans. William would have bought a delay, nothing more. Jehair was eyeing him carefully, looking wizened and bitter. Either hoping he would not notice or hoping he''d let it happen. If this worked, Korlac would be strengthened at the expense of Neral Dinis.


    Larxe was looking at him too.


    "Once the money runs out, the enforcers will look for a better deal we can supply," said William. "Vorn is already setting everything up.


    "We need Korlac for this, though, either way. An official representative from his House to make sure you are credible. House Gabriel has already thrown down too many gauntlets.


    "What about the money Cirithil shook Arkan down for?"


    "It''s all gone, assuming the transfer happened," said Larxe. "Cirithil owns it, and Neral Dinis is a witness, as is Arkan. But Cirithil is insane, so it should be inaccessible. At best, Ata is the one with control over it, and they can''t publically attack her.


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    "Arkan could question Neral Dinis'' and me as witnesses, but then we''d have occasion to seek open war. We have a contract." She was very smart beyond the bloodlust, wasn''t she?


    All of her actions had been performed correctly. Only her constant rages had dragged her down. And even that had been put to excellent use.


    William had severely misjudged her.


    "Well, we have set the precedent that the High Priest cannot be attacked," said William. "And also sent a message. So, at the very least, we''ve staved off the fall of Antion a while." He stopped.


    The fall of Antion.


    Antion was falling, physically and in spirit. The nation was in decay, collapsing in on itself. Something had to be done to save it, something drastic. All this was only treating symptoms.


    In this triumvirate, there were three people.


    Jehair is a Druid and elven patriot with criminal connections.


    Larxe, a creature of darkness who could be of use and was reasonable.


    And William, an up-and-coming noble of a powerful house trying to achieve respectability.


    All had won a partial, difficult victory and could try again. None of them had given up.


    One of them would be destroyed, or the situation would repeat.


    Jehair was weak right now, but she was making stabs at an alliance with Larxe and, through it, Korlac. If this happened, she''d destroy her criminal connections, and Antion would be secure. Of course, at that point, House Gabriel would be the outsider, and they''d have to settle accounts. That would leave the Heir of Kings as a mediator to fix everything.


    If all went well, the peace would hold until the Heir of Kings set things to right.


    But all would not go well. Jehair'' history was mired in treachery, and the High Elves could not be trusted. House Marn could utilize this to discredit a rival and lose his position in Artarq. It would be all too simple to blame it all on House Gabriel, as an outsider no one trusted. Proper politics could stave it off, but House Gabriel would face all the same challenges. Perhaps even worse.


    And they would never be Kings.


    "Let''s get out of here," said William. "I don''t like that tower."


    Everyone could agree on that.


    They headed down fast and met Felix to retrieve his armor. William did not put it back on yet, and they hurried down, meeting werewolf envoys. Larxe stopped only to send off one person or another on a mission. Reports came in regularly. Several convoys had gone out by secret roads, and many were carrying malas or other drugs.


    Taken from smugglers near Desora.


    Apparently, business had been very bad for malas smuggling since Father came in. But it was about to get much worse. Larxe was sending werewolves to get the names and identities of their contacts. She also sent messages to Korlac, seeking statements of support in her efforts. Very soon, if things went well, they''d be sweeping up most of the contacts in the villages.


    For his part, William arrived back in the city and stood behind Jehair. The people were working now. They were planting fields and trying to find good places to grow while eating rations. The bodies from the earlier massacre had been burned in a pile, and the people had taken the weapons.


    They had lost their children.


    Infant babies murdered by Cirithil and the satyrs.


    Because of Jehair.


    She''d traveled this same route many times and seen everything put into motion. Her help to him had only happened because of what he had done.


    It occurred to him that Jehair would get full credit for his actions. As the more experienced warrior, she would naturally be considered a leader. Especially since she was less politically controversial, the glory and honor afforded to House Gabriel would go to her.


    Just as Jehair would get credit for his operations with the gnolls, the night passed.


    A few words could make his healing obsession be something done at her behest.


    Jehair is the hero of this story. The elves would be the hero.


    Instead of a hostile takeover, the elves would be selfless heroes that saved Antion. Not the scheming masterminds who nearly engineered its downfall. There was Jehair, looking at the rebuilding with a smile. As though she''d earned it rather than had it taken from her clawing grip. This would be an elven city if she''d had her way, and all the men would be dead.


    "Isriath''s people are rebuilding quickly," said Jehair. "There are no old men or women to drag them down." As if the elderly were fit only for destruction. And William looked to the greening lands and could see the stories told. The story of an elven resurgence that checked Neral Dinis and saved Antion. "There will be many children to replace those lost here, but it won''t be the same."


    "No, it won''t," said William. Everyone would just cooperate with all this. House Gabriel would be a footnote. Left outside as upstanding citizens who needed no thanks. Meanwhile, the elves take all the credit and thanks when it was their fault anyway.


    Antion owed them nothing.


    Harlenor owed them nothing.


    Everything they had been given here was a gift they had to repay to House Gabriel. But they''d just shrug it off as reparations. And the credit for them would be given to Antion as a whole. Even though they''d done nothing but do their jobs too late. Jehair would scheme against Neral Dinis anew.


    It would all go right back to the way it was.


    "There will be a city and towns and, in time, felled trees," said Jehair, adjusting her grip on the scythe. Trying to tell him or herself it was worth it.


    "Are these the reparations of the guilty, blackheart?" asked William, drawing his sword.


    Now all eyes were finally on him. Larxe looked up in surprise as William took a stance. A tense silence went over them as Jehair turned, and William knew she had thought the inverse.


    "I prefer to see it was a just reward for services rendered," said Jehair.


    "A villain escaping justice, and you call it a reward," said William. "You''ve done nothing to earn it; save undo some of what you have done. I have.


    "This is my story, and you''re the villain."


    Dawn was breaking, for a day and night had passed, and he had not noticed. Now as the early morning grew to full light, Jehair readied her scythe. Taking a stance, she looked young once again. "You''ve done well, I''ll admit. You ruin the schemes of the wicked with wondrous brutality. Cirithil driven mad and gnawing at grass, Arkan and his associates bankrupted. Furbearers assassinated Rius while your hands remained clean.


    "Is it my turn now, William?" She smiled, and there was a new face to it.


    "It is," said William.


    Jehair'' smile faded and was replaced by a thing of pure rage. "Well, before you claim victory over my corpse, can you defend yourself, Paladin!!"


    Jehair backflipped into the air, scythe surging down, and he felt the wind of it near his ear as he moved away. Yet she was coming at him, hacking and slashing with speed and grace, fixed with a fury worthy of a satyr. Yet his blows were calculated and stronger, and her arcs were predictable. One he turned as it arced around, then another as it went at his legs. Finally, a strike at her shoulder was blocked, and they met strength on strength.


    So they circled on a hilltop beneath the morning light as the people looked up. The sun gazed down as vines grew up and moss covered the rocks. William lost his footing and was shoved back, and landed hard. Yet he knocked Jehair''s scythe away, rolled to one side, and struck. His blade grazed her shoulder but cut only cloth, and she stepped backward, spinning her scythe as she did. Vines reached to grab his arms, but he slipped away and slashed them. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Jehair healed her wound, slashed, and William''s wounded over his eye reopened. Now half-blinded by blood, William knew he could not defend himself like this. So he roared and attacked, swinging his blade with heavy strokes. Jehair was driven higher up the slopes and soon went into rocky terrain. Shiftly, she spun around his strike, but William allowed himself to fall into the dirt. Her counterattacked missed and cleaved the earth, cutting a sharp furrow.


    Rising, he stood and drove her back, attacking her with rage and hatred he had never felt before. Down the slopes, they battled, and Jehair could not move as nimbly as before. Her injury weakened her more than him. Finally, forcing her scythe up high, he raised a leg and kicked her in the chest. He nearly lost his footing, but she fell backward into the dirt and tumbled away. Her scythe spun through the air to land blade first in the ground.


    She went for it, but William rushed down, raising his sword to take her captive.


    Even as he did, her body evaporated into rose petals, and William stepped back as the petals flowed around him. Some of them seemed to caress his face, almost gently, as sunlight gleamed down from above. A moment later, Felix called a warning. Ducking low, William felt the wind of a scything passing near his neck. Turning, he slashed upwards as he saw Jehair spinning through the air. Her scythe was glowing blood red as it passed him, and she twisted away from his blow.


    Passing one another, William found his legs grabbed by vines growing up from the ground. Throwing himself backward, he hewed at them as Jehair passed over him. Finally, the vines broke, and she turned to strike downward. Felix hurled William''s shield, and he grasped it, catching the scythe as it fell.


    There was a clash, and the blade was repelled. Stabbing forward, William saw that Jehair''s hair was now completely golden. She laughed as she danced away, and petals of flowers bloomed out of the air. Spores poured from the petals, surrounding them as Larxe and her wolves were repelled.


    "Can you feel fear, Paladin?" asked Jehair.


    Suddenly she burst into petals as the entire area was shrouded. The petals scattered as more of them formed into three Jehair''s. Two had scythes of wood, and only one had a scythe.


    "What is this?" asked William.


    "A blessing of the Flower Maiden," said Jehair. "The land and I are one, and my being can reform with her flowers. I created a duplicate of myself before our battle began.


    "I was interested in what you would do."


    "A meaningless effort," said William. "One who will not walk abroad among his fellow men will change nothing."


    "And nothing changes," said Jehair. "I have seen all that you have seen, over and over. I have walked this hell for forty years.


    "And I will end it!"


    All three Jehair''s surged at him. William ducked and weaved, trying to keep them from surrounding him. Blocking a scythe, he nearly lost an eye. A flower rose up behind him as whole fields were being made manifest. It revealed a maw of teeth as Jehair tried to drive him into it.


    He must attack or perish.


    Roaring a battle cry, William charged with his shield first and smashed into one of them. She faded to petals while the others pursued. Then, turning, he parried a stroke from the Scythe of Imogen and cut the hand from the creature. It faded, but the other rushed at him as the scythe spun beyond his wrist.


    Clashing sword against a scythe, William attacked hard and fast and broke the wood in twain. Cutting it down, he thanked his greater strength as he looked up. All around him, a forest of flowers was rising. Flashes of fire could be seen around him as smoke rose high and Jehair manifested.


    No longer golden, her hair was now pink and ragged, and the scythe was in hand. Endless waves of pink blossoms were flowing about them, and waves of red obscured his vision. As they passed for a moment, it seemed William was not in Antion but some other wild realm. All around him were lush forests, and wild animals in harmony as golden light shone on all.


    But it was nothing.


    Animals eat plants, and plants devour water; creatures hunt one another. And the Flower Maiden feasted on it, removing one troublesome problem after another. Waiting for her moment.


    A great gust of wind carried Jehair upwards, and her body seemed almost made of the petals surrounding her.


    "Do you know the nature of the cherry blossom?" asked Jehair. "It blooms only briefly for a brief time each year. But during that time, the blossoms are the most beautiful trees you will ever see.


    "Endless poetry has been conveyed about them in Kalthak and Dinis.


    "Now...


    "Wandering soul that is bereft of peace. Bloom for a moment and wither as you must....


    "IN THIS NATION OF ETERNAL MEANINGLESSNESS!!"


    And at that moment, she descended. Wings of sakura petals rose her and formed into a revenant-like specter. Descending, William narrowly parried and took a nick to the arm. As he reeled, she vanished and came from behind. Spinning away, he was slashed across the side, and his counterblow was parried. Even as he healed, Jehair went at him with a mad look in her eyes. She slashed and hacked as the flowers around him poured their pollen into the air.


    Soon the world began to blur, and he could hardly see her. Then, finally, his foot was caught, and he stumbled. Landing hard on the ground, he was caught immediately by vines and slashed to try and get free. But Jehair appeared like a specter of death, scythe upraised.


    "LET NATURE TAKE THE LIFE IT GAVE!!" cried Jehair, a mad look in her eyes.


    And then Larxe tore through the flowers with a howl of fury and was on Jehair. Bowling her over, they grappled as the werewolf bared her fangs. Grasping Jehair by the throat, she surged to bite her, but Jehair had her. Now they rolled over, gouging, biting. William grasped his sword and slashed at the vines. He struck once, then again, and finally, he was free.


    Rising up, he saw Jehair overthrow Larxe with momentum, hurling her across the room. Larxe landed on her knees and hands as plants went at her. Now she was fighting off dozens of the tendrils.


    William raised his sword and rushed at Jehair, who drew her weapon and looked at him. Her hair was now corpse white and her eyes glowing, her form like a skeleton. Then, turning, she sprinted at him as they moved. William knew she would strike first.


    But he''d have the advantage if he could get past her attack. So, raising his faithful shield, he moved it toward her scythe. The shield hit, and he felt his arm go numb, stumbling with the force of the blow. Making the last few steps, his leg was grabbed by a vine as he stabbed upwards.


    The sword stabbed deep through her sternum, and she gasped and fell backward. The spell was broken, and her white hair returned to brown as she slumped downward.


    The scythe fell from her grip as William pulled out his sword. Then, realizing what she knew was needed, he healed and set her down. It would not be right for her to die without facing justice.


    "So..." Jehair said. "This is the art of chivalry..."


    "What are you talking about?" asked William, standing away from her.


    "I heard a story once," said Jehair, breathing as the last of her enchantments faded. "It told of a knight who was the meekest man to dine in halls among ladies. Yet the bravest and most courageous of men upon the battlefield.


    "It is not a thing of nature."


    William understood the concept. But he had no intention of humoring her. "It is choice, not art, that defines one. You made your choices a long time ago."


    Jehair laughed. "Perhaps so.


    "It doesn''t matter."


    Larxe stood up, dusting herself off as the flowers faded around them. Her pink hair faded away to the original brown as the hallucinations faded around them.


    Larxe bounded forward, clapping and laughing. "Excellent work Sir Gabriel. You have assisted in the capture of a dangerous fugitive.


    "Jehair, you are under arrest."


    "For?" asked Jehair.


    "Engineering the starvation of Blackfear''s population, aiding and abetting criminals," said Larxe. "Murder of an officer of the law, {I was the officer} attacking nobility {just now}, conspiracy against the crown, conspiracy to usurp a local Lord''s regional authority {pretty much everywhere}. Contempt for royalty and nobility {this is their country, and you think that country is a mistake.} Betrayal of the national sovereignty of Antion. Treason.


    "And to top it all off, you''re an insufferable jerk.


    "There aren''t any accounts of theft, rape, or oathbreaking I can think of. But that changes little because you are not a god. You don''t have the right to pass judgement on an entire nation. Neral Dinis insists I be quite familiar with the laws of Antion. You''ll be taken to the King and made to answer there." Her wolves were coming out.


    "Bind her. And no physical attacks; this is law work."


    "Law work?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Larxe. "I am an agent of Neral Dinis, after all.


    "I''ve decided that the old ways are done, and I''m going into thief catching. It''s better sport that way. I''ll take her to the King and finally get a measure of respect for my kind. Neral Dinis and I spoke of it earlier.


    "Although this was a nice setup.


    "You know how to treat a girl to dinner."


    William halted. "Unplanned, I assure you.


    "Jehair should not be physically harmed. It could get her sympathy." She was tied to a tree now, not resisting. "Perhaps we should focus on the convoys."


    "I don''t need your clumsy feet for that," said Larxe. "We''ll bring in the ones we smell illegal substances on soon. They''ll be heading for Escor or the domain of Lord Tarsus. There''s no market in Blackfear, but I''ve traced most of the paths up there.


    "You gave me a perfect pretense to start patrolling them. If I did it alone, they''d say werewolves were ambushing people. With a Paladin and Jehair, though, I can seize them all now. I know exactly what malas and their goods smell like. And they aren''t smart enough to hide it from me.


    "It''ll be an easy feast."


    "You aren''t going to eat them, are you?" asked William.


    "No," said Larxe in disappointment. "We don''t do that anymore. We''re not allowed to devour anything sentient. Just arrest them.


    "We''ll have to feast on their fear for now."


    William never once came within sight of any of the arrests. However, many shipments were soon brought up to Isriath''s new city. The goods were seized and carefully kept away to be examined. Larxe moved around them, taking notes as she did on sheets of paper. They sniffed and compared notes and also examined the physical parameters.


    Many individuals were questioned by Larxe and kept terrified. She asked simple, short questions. Often about the paths they took and others. Other merchants arrived unmolested. They plied their trade on the citizens of Isriath. Barter began as construction continued. William was several times asked to explain what had happened to the merchants. He felt terrible doing it.


    At the very least, however, William had a chance to observe the construction. He''d never been near this kind of construction before.


    "No, no," said Osmos, a merchant who knew something about building. "That''s not properly grounded. Let me steady that."


    William observed and tried to understand what he was seeing. More merchants arrived and genuinely made a profit. At the same time, those who had been peddling malas were arrested. Others Larxe had known of for some time and known their crimes. These were arrested, even without illegal goods, some of them for crimes of slavery.


    What he saw here was utterly foreign to how Harlenor was supposed to be. It was the antithesis of Harlenor.


    And yet, as the merchants bringing malas to faraway lands clapped in irons, it was beautiful. Harlenor had failed here; a new way must be found to return.


    Unfortunately, the old way was lined with bandits. So he focused on making sure a guard was kept at all times.


    "Make sure you look professional and raise your spear high," said William. "It won''t do much good if you''re attacked. But if they think you''ve got professional soldiers, they''ll think twice.


    "That should give you enough time to find a better defense."


    "Thank you, sir," said a boy, but he was older than William.


    Even though he''d been through worse misery, he wasn''t as far on his journey. It was odd how pain alone could not bring maturity. It could also be education, or he had chosen differently. Yet as William looked out over a land turning green, he saw the sun shining again overhead.


    And William wondered if there was anything left of who he was. What had happened to the person who went with Raynald and Rusara by ship? Who had thought about visiting Edmund Telus and dining with him again?


    Did that person still exist? Should he? What did it mean if he did?


    The unholy rituals had been destroyed with the purification of the area.


    Criminal after criminal were clapped in irons and led away. Their guards were overpowered, and their oxen loosed. And their burdens were taken as evidence.


    Then another, then another.


    One saw the oxen tied up after being given to the villagers and ran for it, but wolves caught them in the woods. A few were searched and found to have no illegal substances and sent on their way. But these were few, and immense wealth was seized over the next few hours.


    A few caught on and tried to run, but the werewolves had been waiting, and they were rounded up. So that pretty soon Arkan''s merchants. They had come in expecting great wealth and an easy sale; instead were clapped in chains. How would their families take the news? What fate would befall them once these were hung? William prayed Elranor would care for them.


    "Basically," said Larxe. "They''d come over the mountain and sell their wares to the merchants out here with Cirithil. Then, they buy up the slaves in return and return to Ascorn. From there, they get sold to plantation owners or whoever buys them. Lady Atravain or whatever you want."


    "Lady Atravain would do no such thing," said William.


    "Maybe she wouldn''t," said Larxe. "If she knew it was happening.


    "Most buyers don''t want to know who their slaves are. It makes them rich. Nobody will care what your lineage is after you''re worked to death.


    "Right now, we''re stripping all the illegal merchants of everything. They''ll be bankrupt after this; most merchants are one bad run away from it. And they''ll be in prison, so we can squeeze them for information before they die.


    "And their families will have to live out on the street." She giggled. "We give the stolen stuff to Isriath''s city as thanks. And they sell it to honest merchants as they return from the honest business. That was Saphra''s idea; she suspected this place had been up here for some time. But we never had a chance to go in for open war against Arkan."


    "How will you handle the blood problem?" asked William.


    "Well, my idea," said Larxe. "Is that we get a chance to drink blood from people given the death penalty? Or if we decide to drain them, maybe a werewolf will turn them instead. Of course, we''re very selective, but that gives them a chance to save themselves.


    "I think we can do very well as police."


    "Just don''t push too far," said William. "Antion is not defenseless. They will destroy you if you cause too much disruption and misery."


    "I know," said Larxe, and she leaned forward as if to bite him. Then she thought better of it and stole off.


    William looked over to where Jehair was bound to a tree.


    The hatred in her eyes was gone, and he thought they finally understood one another a bit better. Then she looked away, the light in her eyes died, and she slumped unconscious.


    Jehair was dead, either today or in only a little while.


    And they would not meet again in this life. Perhaps in her next, if what she said was true. But did he actually want to meet her?


    William sat down to think.


    And he contemplated all that had led up to this for many hours.


    Two.

 Chapter Thirty-Four: Aftermath

    William was thinking for quite some time.


    Jehair was carried away in chains as the construction continued. New fields were dug in a hurry as crops were planted. His armor lay near him, and he considered putting it on again. He''d carried it for so long, and losing it had not gained him any relief. His blonde hair flowed in the wind, and the scar over his eye ached.


    William was soon becoming very angry, and he wasn''t sure why. Larxe and her wolves seemed outright lucid, in contrast.


    "I suppose I should say it will all be worth it," said Felix in his shadow.


    "How could it possibly be worth it?!" said William as he stood up in a fury. "We''ve been wandering the lands like wolves for weeks, battling plague and bandits! My armor is filthy despite my best efforts; I''m covered in sweat and blood! Every victory only serves to open doors to more futile struggles!


    "By this point, I have jumped between every single side in the entire length and breadth of the land! I''m exhausted; my friends are far away, perhaps even dead! The country of Antion is on the verge of collapse, and all my efforts may have been for nothing!


    "And even if everyone in this horrible place pulls together, the land will be a shadow of itself!


    "And now I''ve had to throw my guide in prison for high treason, among other crimes!"


    "Well, it has been a long journey," said Felix. "The cards were stacked against us from the start. There was no winning hand."


    "The next time I agree to walk across half a continent for Raynald and Rusara, stab me," said William. Then he saw Larxe snuffling around on the ground on all fours, hair tied to keep it out of the dirt. Her very shapely rump was raised skyward as she crawled like a dog in the dirt. "Larxe?"


    "I''ve been identifying the clothes and effects of the bodies," said Larxe, not looking up. "Trying to find trails.


    "Most are from Escorn or Haldren, some of Rius'' old buddies. We got a bunch of scents on them, and we''re following them to their sources.


    "Once we arrive, we''ll follow any scents they connect with. It''ll take a while, but we''ll find their blood. We always do."


    "And what will you do when you find them?" asked Felix.


    "Investigate," said Larxe, crawling near them and shifting. "Our sense of smell lets us know where people have gone. And if people hide their scent, we''ll sense the absence and learn to investigate.


    "Neral Dinis trained us in all the laws of Antion, and we have only been looking for an opportunity to enforce them."


    William looked to the people, then back to Larxe. It was midday. "Have you talked to the people?"


    "No, they''d scream and run away," said Larxe. "Don''t want to antagonize anyone." Following a scent, she followed it to him and clambered up, her hands on his knees as Felix went for his sword. But Larxe was face to face, looking at him hungrily.


    "Get off," said William.


    Larxe stepped off and kept on snuffling at the ground.


    "...Felix, go talk to the people out there," said William. "Find out if they saw merchants or anyone who could incriminate our friends. And also ask them if they were the ones that bought the beer.


    "There might have been a mass shipment."


    "Smart," said Larxe, not looking up.


    Felix moved off, looking at him in a warning.


    "Fine, be that way," said Larxe, standing up. "I was hoping to see the fear in their eyes."


    "Please don''t alarm them, Larxe. They''ve already been through hell," said William. "I''d recommend having human agents talk to people in your stead. Werewolves have a reputation." Thus far, the wolves had avoided them completely and been only observed.


    "Mmm, this is good Nakan beer if I ever tasted it," said Maius''s voice behind him. William looked back to see her sitting on a rock, still clad in white and drinking from two filled flagons. "I haven''t tried anything like this in a long time. Only a few drinks give you this kind of feeling.


    "They must have been getting it from several places.


    "Want a sip?"


    "No, thank you," said William.


    "Lamech introduced me to them," said Maius. "They''re the ones who were helping Tavish."


    "Lamech? What was his connection to this?" asked William.


    "Oh yes," said Maius. "He''s the one who got them into the brewing business. They used to make the stuff, but he financed manufacturing it en masse. Then Cirithil sold them slaves, to till the fields instead.


    "It was all legal back then. Prisoners of war and such."


    "Where is Kiyora?" asked William, shaking his head. "She usually shows up much more often than this. Something must be occupying her."


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    "Who, Virtue?" asked Maius.


    "Virtue?" asked William.


    "That''s what they used to call her in Tarasif," said Maius. "She used to call me Vice. Hates me, needless to say."


    "You two seem like you''d get on well," said William. "I thought she sent me here to help you."


    "Well, we did get on well once," said Maius sadly. "A long time ago.


    "You know her as the Dreaming Goddess, but she''s also the Goddess of Virtue. She goes by that guise in Escor; most gods have different guises."


    "When was this?" asked William. "Nevermind, I don''t care right now. Later, perhaps. Larxe, why have you calmed down so much?


    "You are not nearly so violent as you were."


    "I go in cycles," said Larxe, sitting on the rock beside him. Looking up at the sky, she looked almost sane and beautiful. "When I''m thirsty, I lust for blood constantly. When I get that blood, I think more clearly. Taking action also helps. The bloodlust doesn''t affect me as much when I''m fully focused.


    "I direct all the packs and enforce order when it needs to be there. We must constantly eat and devour unless we have something we''re all focused on."


    William looked to Maius. "Maius, you''ve changed in guise as well."


    "I enjoy beer, martial arts, and seducing handsome men," said Maius, throwing herself back. She crossed her legs and landed on the cold stone like a pillow bed. Her breasts bounced, and William had difficulty keeping his gaze on her face. "I can get all of that pretty easily.


    "I just educate myself to keep my domain running. It''s a depressing side job. There isn''t a lot of faith to get from drunkenness.


    "You need to keep things entertaining." And she turned around with a flourish of red. Once again, in the form of her red outfit. "So what do you want, handsome?"


    William considered his answer. "I''ll get back to you."


    "Fair enough," said Maius before spinning and vanishing in a wave of red cloth. Then, just before it covered her, she blew him a kiss.


    William sat down sadly.


    "I gotta hand it to you," said a bitter voice. "Selling your guide to werewolves in the middle of a land you don''t know is a pretty gutsy move."


    William looked up to see Imogen coming back, looking bitter. Looking down, he saw Jehair''s scythe at his feet. Picking it up, it felt meant for him and yet wrong. "Imogen..."


    "This is yours by right. Taken from Jehair before she was arrested," Though he could not remember taking it from her.


    And he offered her the scythe. Imogen looked at it with a forlorn expression on her face for a moment. Then, Imogen'' took it sadly with an unsteady hand. "She was supposed to give it to you when you came to us."


    "I''m never going to be the person you want me to be, Imogen," said William. Based on what he had seen, Imogen had been hoping to fill the place Kiyora had gotten to. He didn''t understand why, though.


    "I guess not," said Imogen.


    And she vanished. So did Maius without a look, and William felt lost. As if some part of him he''d always desired to gain had been rejected by him. A sense of wanderlust was lost, replaced with bitter hatred of evil.


    Felix came forward, carrying a list. He''d taken paper with him just in case. "It had to be done, William.


    "It was the only decent thing you could have done. The law must be enforced, or men will not fear breaking it. Injustice must be punished, or men will cease to be good.


    "We have done both."


    "Felix," William halted. "I''m glad you''re with us."


    "I have a list of the dead. Most of it," said Felix. "Apparently, there was a paper shipment with some of the merchants. They don''t mean anything to me. Do you know them?"


    William took the list and frowned as he saw them. There were many, and he chose not to write to spare their families in his volume. "Some of these are among the most influential non-noble merchants in Haldren. And also, in Ascorn, I remember hearing of them from Rius, though I won''t speak of their names.


    "I had dinner with a few of them in passing when I was younger and visiting Ran Telus. But, none of them were militarily important."


    "Let me see," said Larxe, taking it and looking over it sadly. Why was she sad? "A lot of important Ascorian Merchants, some Sornians too, and a few from the realm of Lord Tarsus."


    "Cirithil must have been offering them a chance to advance their position. Likely by undercutting the authority of the nobility," said Felix. "They work as church merchants, and the Lords can''t use the usual punishments.


    "How are we going to handle this?"


    "I''m going to have every criminal hung and drain their blood," decided Larxe. "Then Cirithil won''t have anyone left to provide political cover.


    "Then I will drink his blood and cast his corpse to my wolves."


    "There is another possibility," said William sadly. "These Lords might have been conspiring with Cirithil. The merchants were acting on their behalf."


    "Edmund Telus has been allied with your Father for decades," noted Felix.


    Massacre came forward then. "They journeyed together to Themious."


    "I''m not saying such a thing is happening, only that it is possible," said William. "Alliances break up, even among friends. Either way, if my Father does not know, we have no time to tell."


    "We''ll have to go to Ran Telus then," said Felix.


    "I''ll have to go to Ran Telus, you mean," said William, standing up. "Felix, you will stay here with my armor. Massacre will move faster with just me. I''ll take my sword and shield and ride straight to Ascorn. I can take a ship with the Furbearers and be right after them.


    "Larxe... why don''t you come with me?


    "I could use your help." Also, he could use the guide now that Jehair had been revealed as a traitor.


    "I''ve got work enough to do here," said Larxe sadly. "But, I celebrate that you have new prey to hunt. And I pray that the killing delivers you the blood you desire."


    "...Welcome to the world of the living," said William, wondering what she meant by ''blood''; it did seem to be a liquid. "Massacre, we must go."


    And leaping onto the chimera''s back, he clung to her mane. Then Massacre shot off like an arrow from the bow of destiny. She moved up the slopes like lightning, leaping over crevasses and ridges. The wind on William''s face was cold, and his hair whipped behind him as he clung for dear life.


    William wondered if this, too, was the work of Farasa.


    Abruptly, he saw her before him, though she was not there. She was dressed now in flowing red, more concealing. "William, I have news for you."


    "What is it, Farasa?" asked William.


    "Your enemy Lamech has taken Princess Oresa of Western Kalthak hostage. He is taking her to Haldren," said Farasa. "She is likely to be murdered, and no one knows or has time to care.


    "You are the only person I can go to about this."


    William halted. "...Son of a...


    "Very well. I''ll do what I can for her. I was heading after him anyway. Grant me haste; I need it."


    And Farasa was gone.


    Massacre cleared the fortress before the sun set and shot down the slopes. Faster and faster she went. It was as though urged on by all the gods, and all who saw her fled in fear. A few shot arrows wildly, but she leaped over their darts until they came to the came.


    Rushing in, they found Amenos fitting the last ship for sail. Massacre fell to her knees in exhaustion.


    "Amenos!" cried William, relieved to see a friendly face. "Prepare to make sail for Haldren! Take me at once; it is a matter of urgency! Massacre, rest here, and await my return."


    Amenos blinked in surprise but quickly nodded. "I am at your disposal," said Amenos. "Though I would not have been here if you come even an hour later. Where are Jehair and Felix."


    "I''ll tell you when we are at sea," William leaped onto the ship. "We set sail. Every moment counts."


    And they did just that, hurriedly pushing off and setting the fail. A favorable wind blew them swiftly and surely toward where they needed to go.


    So William Gabriel set on his return journey alone and far earlier than expected. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter Thirty-Five: Family Meeting

    Tanith and Kata reached the bridge over the Soulflow river at daybreak.


    There was no time to appreciate it with all the rain. Though it mainly had let up to a drizzle by now. Tanith chose to risk it for speed, and Kata led them by swift paths unseen over a ford in the river. Tanith looked up from it toward a well-made bridge that had been the site of a great battle once.


    All the great houses of Haldren had come down from the north and met the Withering King''s forces here. The Dark Lord Aras had marshaled a great army of satyrs and invincible undead against them. And with them came the Furbearers in support.


    So there had been a grievous battle where many knights and peasants had died.


    And House Gabriel had nearly lost all of its men. Garath Gabriel had almost died fighting there, and Erik the Voyager fell, already an old man. Duke Vanion, then only a child, had been taken into the care of Arengeth as a potential successor. And it had seemed then that House Gabriel would lose everything and be made vagabonds. There had even been discussion of confiscating Gel Carn and giving it to someone else. And Edmund Telus was looking to be the most powerful man in the region.


    Or worse, giving the commoners control.


    But Duke Vanion had put a stop to all that. He, Raynald, and Rusara had outmaneuvered everyone.


    They''d destroyed the bad merchants and rewarded loyal subjects. They''d fought off every rival claim. At last, they''d gone into Antion and won many great victories.


    Together they had destroyed the corrupted and elevated the righteous. All while being well rewarded. And her Father, Edmund Telus, had first been their benefactor. Then, when he became lesser, he remained respected. So now he was rewarded with rich land by Vanion in Artarq.


    Tanith had told Kata all these stories in depth. Father had loved to tell them, so Tanith knew them by heart. She''d written many of them down when she was younger and thirsted for adventure.


    "There was a great battle between our peoples here," said Kata. "We used to be the villains, weren''t we? Summoning undead and working with satyrs."


    "You either have to work with satyrs or kill them," said Tanith. "They''re a warrior race. They don''t respect peace, only endure it. Not nearly so nice as us."


    Kata laughed, and it was a nice laugh. "Does it ever end?"


    "It never ends," said Tanith. "Some people drop out of the game for a bit; some stay out. That was your mistake. You stayed quiet too long and went from an enemy to a victim."


    "I guess you could become a hermit like the ones that dwell over to the east in the ruins of Thrakmul," noted Kata. "I''m heading out there with Sokar to see if we can resettle it. It''s very barren, though, so not much of a chance."


    "Some people would kill someone who owned nothing," said Tanith. "That''s why William and I stay in the game. We only drop out of it to rest, and then return because we must serve our nation, families, and people.


    "If we don''t do it, who will? If I went into peace, I''d drink myself to death or commit suicide."


    "That''s where you and I differ," said Kata. "When this is over, this war will be a bad memory. I want to live by helping other people, not hurting them.


    "This land could be free and beautiful if only people would help one another.


    "Maybe this is where it starts."


    "It always starts," said Tanith with a laugh. "Universal brotherhood lasts only until you meet a bandit. Then, you''re not going to have time to understand him when he''s trying to gut you with a knife. After that, it does not matter whether he''s a good man or a bad one. He''s already decided he''s willing to kill you for money. If someone stepped out of the trees around us with bows and started shooting...


    "Would you try to talk to them?"


    "No," said Kata sadly. "I''d be a fool not to fight back. I''d run or kill.


    "But just a perfect pacifist doesn''t exist; a perfect warrior doesn''t exist either. Tanith, you''ll never live in a world where your enemy is as evil as you want them to be. No matter how just and noble you are, you''ll be someone''s villain when you walk a path of blood."


    "No, I won''t," said Tanith in mock arrogance. "I''m right, and they are wrong."


    "Is that supposed to be William?" asked Kata, laughing.


    They walked over the ford and into the trees beyond. At the edge of the ford was a perfect place for an ambush. The ford had been a common way to get across the bridge, but it was guarded in days of the war. You could see burial mounds from all those shot dead in the ambush on both sides.


    Tanith led them through the trees, wilting now around them by the will of Elranor. They were beautiful in all their red and orange. And Tanith felt for the first time a sense of peace, as though an inferno long within her faded.


    "So, there it is," said Tanith. "Ran Telus, my home."


    Ran Telus was magnificent, more so than ever before.


    It stood with stocky walls, flowing banners, and a great fortress at the center of a magnificent city. It had grown and grown over the years. Tanith had been alive. Now it was practically bursting, with farms outside it here or there. Yet most of the food came from Gel Carn, and never had Vanion taken that supply hostage.


    Other shipments had come in from the Furbearers in happier days long ago. Yet the ice which had fallen over the land and never left prevented such farming. So it was that their food came from the sea by fishing or over it. She and William had often eaten together here when Anborn was not so disgraced.


    They came out onto the path, walking behind an ox cart.


    "The Lady Tanith has returned!" cried a guard. "And with her, the Princess of the Furbearers."


    "People are beginning to take notice of you," said Tanith. "That''s good or bad; it all depends on what you make of it."


    "Are you sure about returning here, Tanith?" asked Kata. "I mean..."


    "I''ve got to go back now," said Tanith. "I''ve got a duty to my family, and with this situation resolved, I''m out of excuses."


    "Well, I wouldn''t call it resolved," said Kata. "But, well..."


    "Yes?" asked Tanith.


    Kata looked away. "With any luck, this whole thing will be over, and we can finally do something useful with our time."


    "You could come with me, you know. I''d guarantee you my protection," said Tanith.


    "I appreciate it, but I don''t have faith in anyone''s word anymore," said Kata. "No one outside of my family and my own people. Even if you gave me your protection and meant it, your Father might overrule you. Would you fight him?"


    "...Probably not," admitted Tanith.


    "Right," Kata smiled. "We''re not respected as a people, and I''d be valuable as a hostage. I can''t trust these people; even you can. Good luck."


    And she raced off.


    "Good luck," said Tanith, watching her go. She felt... empty inside as Kata left, looking happier than ever. Tanith ought to be happy too.


    But something told Tanith she''d not see her again.


    Turning, Tanith walked through the gates behind the cart. There she saw Anborn standing guard. None of the other men paid him any heed. One seemed to be glaring at him, and this Tanith found odd. He''d done very good work, and few had outdone in kills.


    But then, he had a long way to go.


    "Where is my Father?" asked Tanith.


    "He is presently hunting with Prince Aras," said a man. "He will be back in a day or so. They wished to inspect the borders. All to avoid a potential Furbearer assault. One of them has declared himself a King; we''re afraid we might see a return to the worship of undeath."


    "Don''t be," said Tanith. "Osrif is reasonable.


    "He has enough power to cause trouble if we push him. But if it comes to a serious conflict, we''ll crush him. I know his children; they have an appreciation for the Harlenorian way. They will understand that being good subjects will be paramount." She paused. "Anborn fought very well.


    "Very well. He is beginning to regain his honor."


    And she strode off as quickly as she could.


    Tanith moved purposefully through the streets, removing her helm so others could see. Many cheered, and a number wilted as she came to the doors and entered by a side door. Entering in the usual way, she nodded to the first servant and quickly got her armor off. Before long, she had cleaned and dressed in white, going out to meet her Mother.


    The halls of House Telus were much more luxurious than Carn Gable. Duke Vanion had always preferred to spend little on luxury. What he spent was on things like fountains that served a secondary purpose. Father, though, liked to enjoy life. There were banners on the walls and tapestries of old battles fought. Some of them depicted the journey to Themious or other battles.


    There was the hunt for the Typhosian board, which stood six feet tall. It had been rampaging around Themious, and no one had been able to bring it down. It breathed fire and had tusks like swords. A hunt had been planned then by Edmund and Vanion. Edmund had done a lot of boar hunting and had arranged for it to be driven out of the woods. Many villagers made a lot of noise and drove it out.


    There the war party had been waiting. Vanion had the bad luck of being first in its path. But he caught it with his spear and leaped aside. Unfortunately, that hadn''t been nearly enough to slay it. The fire nearly burned him, but Azgora blocked it with her shield. Then she''d gotten it in the side with a spear as it passed. Kafka had then leaped between the hooves of the beast and stabbed upward.


    Last of all, Raynald had slain it by leaping on top of its head and cutting its throat. Though it had thrashed and nearly trampled Kafka before Hadleim had pulled him out. It set the forest on fire as it died, but Hadleim convinced the river spirits to put the flames out. And Rusara had burned away much of the underbrush so it would not spread quickly.


    There was a dispute over who deserved credit since Amazons did not believe in sharing credit for deeds. But Vanion had argued for Azgora in gratitude for her saving him. Kafka had agreed with this, but Raynald had argued for himself from the beginning. Since the wound, the side would likely have been lethal. Raynald had argued against it, but Kafka had agreed with Vanion. Hadleim had as well.


    It led to a rift between Vanion and Raynald for a while. And it had sewn the seeds of the feud between Azgora and Raynald. Even so, Rusara had mediated things, and they''d patched things up. It was Kafka and Vanion who would become bitter enemies.


    Tanith''s uncle.


    Tanith wondered how Vanion and Kafka had come to hate one another so much. Why would Duke Vanion ever try to assassinate someone? What could drive him to that point?


    Most of them happened years ago. Tanith looked up as she walked through a courtyard and saw a well. She remembered that she and William had been very young and tossed coins into it together. They''d done it with a slavegirl their age brought in by a visitor, an Artulkan. Tef Lock, was it?


    What had happened to her? She had been... sunny.


    Tanith reflected that she might well be dead by now. And she would probably never find out. There had been a shooting star that night.


    Mother was sitting, sewing, her face covered in a veil to hide her. She looked up. "Tanith?"


    "Mother, I''m back," said Tanith, sitting down. "Are things going well?" She never felt at home in these dresses. They stained too easily and could not be cleaned of blood.


    Not that you did any fighting in them.


    "Yes," said Mother. "Atria has proved of immense help. Her mastery of languages has helped our scribes a great deal. In addition, she has been a great support to your Father and me."


    "What?" said Tanith, voice suspicious.


    "Is something wrong?" asked Mother.


    Tanith shook her head. There was nothing wrong with a slave doing its job. "Nothing; I''m pleased to hear things have gone well. Why is Aras here?"


    "Well, the truth is that House Telus'' is in debt," said Mother. "We''ve been fighting in many wars. Ascorn took out many loans, and your Father had to cover for him. And events in Antion have seen many shipments disrupted. The chaos out there has cut off many supply lines merchants relied on. As a result, everyone''s usual income has been disrupted."


    "It had to be done," said Tanith. "If we hadn''t freed those Furbearers, Antion would be in flames. And you should be glad I did; it''s the only reason Anborn is alive for them to see."


    "Those savages?" asked Mother. "They didn''t hurt him, did they?"


    "Why do you care?" asked Tanith, offended that everything was about Anborn as usual. Tanith served her country and did it excellently. But poor Anborn had a little less talent, so he warranted special. "He''s endangered us. He disgraced our family name."


    "He''s my son, Tanith," said Mother. "You beat him to a bloody pulp, threw him to his enemies, and forced him to fight with no armor.


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    "How could you?"


    "And as a result, he is beginning to be respected," said Tanith. "Anborn has killed many men now. He''s fought to defend our allies and helped salvage the wreckage he has made of his honor.


    "He might eventually be a man."


    "Anborn doesn''t want to be what you consider a man," said Mother.


    "What the hell does what he wants to have to do with being a member of House Telus!" shouted Tanith. "I didn''t want to help dig a cesspit when I joined Argath. But I did it because the job had to be done to prevent disease in the camp. I didn''t want to throw old women into farmhouses and burn them alive.


    "But I did it because those were the orders I had been given. If I had not followed those orders, morale would have broken down. Our entire group would have been cut down and died, and there could be no witnesses.


    "Argath ordered them destroyed, and so they had to be.


    "Where do you think all the money and wealth come from? All those exemplary tapestries that symbolize the glory of House Telus? The materials don''t come from Anborn gambling and making friends. They come from conquest and war, war upon the enemies of Elranor. War upon the enemies of all who live.


    "Where are Anborn''s fine friends now? All those he spent his time gambling with? Where are his many red-headed girlfriends who keep him straight and narrow? They''ve abandoned him because he''s a child in a man''s body. And once they''re finished with him, he''s of no use.


    "That job he was given came with too many strings. And he had it coming."


    "He''s not a killer like you," said Mother.


    "Why are you acting like that''s a bad thing?" asked Tanith. "Why is Anborn your favorite son? Why is Sunthred of secondary importance to this spineless effeminate weakling? One devoid of true valor or nobility?


    "Why are you upset that he now has some semblance of power?"


    "Why are you treating your brother like a defective weapon?" asked Mother in turn.


    "Because you''ve given me the same treatment," said Tanith. "I''ve sacked many enemy towns. I''ve defended my nation from Calisha; I''ve put down rebellions. I''ve brought glory to my-"


    And then Mother hugged her.


    Tanith choked and shifted, feeling her heart flutter at the embrace. Then, slowly, she drew up her hands and embraced her back. For a long moment, they held one another as Mother clutched her. For a moment, Tanith forgot her dreams of lust and blood and felt uncomfortable as a girl.


    "I will always love you, Tanith," said Mother.


    Tanith didn''t cry, but she wanted to.


    She felt genuine happiness for a brief moment as Mother broke the embrace.


    "Sunthred has been setting things up very well in Artarq, you know," said Mother.


    "Oh, really?" asked Tanith, drinking.


    "Have you had a chance to visit him?" asked Mother.


    "No, not really," said Tanith. "There''s been so much to do that I haven''t had time."


    "You really should," said Mother. "You never know what might happen between one moment and the next. He''s very fond of you."


    "No, he isn''t," said Tanith. Sunthred and her had fallen apart after Anborn had refused to mature. Once they lost respect for him, no one could mediate. Sunthred was an abolitionist and an economist and had little love for war.


    Every conversation had been tense.


    Tanith wished they could go back to how things were.


    "Atria, could you bring us some tea, please?" asked Atria.


    "Of course, Mistress," said Atria, coming forward. Tanith looked up and saw a majestically beautiful woman. She had long, silver hair and dark skin tied over her head. She was clad in servants'' garb and was the very picture of willing subservience.


    It was too good to be true.


    "Thank you," said Mother.


    Tanith nodded, took her tea, and saw a hint of intellect. There was no way the woman who had given her the fight of her life could become this so effortlessly. Atria departed, and Tanith did not admire her body, lovely though it was.


    "That has got to be some kind of act," said Tanith.


    "What do you mean?" asked Mother. Why was she confused?


    "Why do you trust her here, Mother?" asked Tanith. Granted, Tanith trusted Felix, but she''d known him for a lot longer. They''d gone to war together too, and that counted for something.


    Also, he had not been taken as a slave; he had been sold by Calishans.


    The idea of having her walk around freely was wrong, somehow. But then, Tanith had brought her back, and Edmund Telus had let her walk. It was possible that a Calishan could turn out well. Felix had. But Felix had been enslaved by Calishans, which meant he had a separation of loyalties. Atria did not. What would be required for Tanith to accept Atria as she had Felix?


    Logically, give her a chance to murder Tanith and wait to see if she did it.


    Why not?


    The slave trade was dying anyway, and Tanith was bored.


    "Then what is the point, Tanith? Why did you bring her here?" asked Mother, seeming to guess her mind. "We thought she had your favor."


    "...It''s what a raider is supposed to do," said Tanith.


    "Tanith, our culture obsesses over rage and hate," said Mother. "It warps people."


    "What of it?!" said Tanith. "We live in a disease-ridden death world where war is constant, and you cannot trust anyone. Even a close friend could be an enemy tomorrow."


    "We just got finished with a full-scale war with our ally.


    "King Gavin could come down there with an army to lay siege to our castle tomorrow! And the last thing we''d need is a nice guy who bursts into tears during a crisis!


    "Anborn needed to have it beaten out of him, just like I did. You should have done it years ago, but you coddled him."


    "He can''t sleep anymore," said Mother. "He wakes up screaming about bloody tendrils ripping him apart while you laugh."


    "Good," said Tanith. "Let him remember the consequences of his failure to be a man. And why do you speak of him like he is a child?"


    "He is my child," said Mother. "Just like you are. Do you hate your own brother that much?" S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes," said Tanith. "And I''m still doing what is best for him. Do you want him to end up like Rius? Some balding middle-aged traitor with no wife or children? Incapable of even holding a meeting without someone holding his hand?


    "Or Lilas, that despicable traitor who starves his own people so he can get points for fixing the problem he created?"


    "Tanith," said Mother. "I have heard what happened with Lilas. Could you explain yourself?"


    So Tanith did.


    Mother listened to her statements as she reported them and became increasingly concerned. She continued to play the harp as she did, contemplating matters. "That is quite an accusation to make, Tanith. "I note what you say about mistreating his workers, and I will speak to him about your concerns. I have already had several reports. Lilas is here."


    "Good," said Tanith. "Let''s have his head and be done with it."


    "He is nobility, a personal friend of King Gavin," said Mother. "A noble who abandons his people is no noble at all," said Tanith. "Lilas treated the Hand of Anoa like chips on a gambling table. Why should he get the benefits of a title when he''s already planning to trade up."


    "Let us return to the subject of Anborn. Don''t his actions warrant some respect from you?" asked Mother.


    "I gave him respect on the battlefield," said Tanith. "I put in a good word for him with the guards. Now I''m here, and he''s still wasted the last half a decade discrediting my house. Doing well in one battle does not redeem him for a lifetime of betrayal."


    "He''s made a lot of people happy," said Mother. "People like him."


    "Happy?!" said Tanith. "What does being a great man have to do with being happy?


    "He is nobility, born to be great, and does deeds of surpassing valor and magnificence. He must show ordinary people a better way. He must be a leader for the people. All he''s shown them is how to be a useful idiot. I''m glad I beat some sense into him before he got even worse."


    "Your brother may be completely disinherited because of that attitude," said Mother. "Because our culture prizes tradition and power over love.


    "Edmund is talking about it with his advisors now. The first time Anborn distinguishes himself, and his reward is this?"


    "That battle was the crowning moment of Anborn''s career, Mother," said Tanith. "It was his ultimate achievement after years. Much better than expected. Father is considering disinheriting him. He still needs to do it outright. That is his reward."


    "How can you say that?" asked Mother.


    "Because it''s true," said Tanith. "If we give him a position of authority, he''ll run Ran Telus into the ground. And when he does, the ordinary people will pay the price for his incompetence. It should go to Sunthred or one of his or my children. Or, failing that, one of our cousins. Janice, Grace and Jaina are all more acccomplished than Anborn and might do the job.


    "My brother used to be nice. But he''s weak and stupid. And both of those things are his fault."


    "I meant love being a luxury," said Mother. "Love is everything."


    "No, no, it is not," said Tanith. "Love will not stop the legions of the Calisha. Love will not prevent the hordes of hell from destroying. Nor will it end the blood feuds that surround us. It is by reason and steel that peace is maintained, if only for an instant. The powerful, the ruthless, these things make Harlenor survive."


    "But what makes Harlenor live?" asked Mother, voice still calm.


    "Not what Anborn does," said Tanith. "Drinking in brothels and pretending to be friends with people. Friendship and love are rewards for those who perform excellent service. To be given them without service is meaningless.


    "William only began to live when he entered Seathorius. And I only began to live in the fires of war."


    Mother halted and finally sighed. "...How have things with William progressed?"


    "Well, I''m hoping to marry him someday," said Tanith, looking up.


    "I see," said Mother. "I thought you were just friends."


    "It seems like the best match," said Tanith. "We bring out the best in eachother."


    "Tanith," said Mother. "There has been talking of a political alliance with King Gavin. Perhaps even one by marriage. It is a great opportunity. He has several children-"


    "Excuse me?" said Tanith. "Sunthred has territory in Artarq because of Duke Vanion. I''ve won my glory in his service. He''s one of the most powerful men in Harlenor. House Gabriel brought our house to prominence and brought about an era of prosperity. So William is undertaking a dangerous journey to get a pardon for me. And to represent me in the Tournament of Kings.


    "Duke Vanion has always treated us as equals worthy of due respect. And he did so long after he surpassed us in riches and wealth. It would hardly befit our noble blood to abandon such a friend."


    "Yes, but..." Mother halted. "Your Father has to deal with political realities. Vanion''s growing power has aroused jealousy from many other Lords. And Gel Carn has been without a leader for some time; King Gavin may take the opportunity to reclaim it.


    "It is within his rights, and if there isn''t a Lord there, he can hardly be contested.


    "At the same time, there are serious concerns. William has been sewing chaos wherever he goes in Antion. We''ve gone from relative peace to skirmishes happening daily. The power structure is being shaken up."


    "William didn''t sew chaos; he''s just doing the reaping!" said Tanith. "Those idiots in Antion violated every law and principle. They let bandits run their domains for them. How much time did we spend untangling the mess out there? And what''s worse, they spread the rot up here to Haldren.


    "William ought to be rewarded and thanked for fixing their problems. All without expecting anything in return. He''s what Anborn should have been.


    "I know that William is a kind and compassionate boy as well as a powerful warrior," said Mother. "But his actions have deeply concerned many powerful people. In fact, he may have humiliated them. His trip to Gel Carn has thrown down the gauntlet with all of Antion. It''s just that nobody can figure out whose side he''s on."


    "William is on the side of righteousness, Mother," said Tanith. "The Lords of Antion is a disgrace and corrupt. Lilas is as bad as any of them. They betrayed their people, their responsibilities, and their God. It is right that they suffer and lose influence. They can repent before the wrath of Elranor or be swept aside."


    "You speak of William as though he is a god," said Mother.


    "No, I do not," said Tanith. "William was how Elranor purged weakness from Antion. Just as I was, how weakness was purged from the Furbearers.


    "We were the vessels by which his divine plan was made manifest. The corruption of Antion will be undone, and the true Heir of Kings will come at last. I merely foretell that which we have been taught since we were children. And Duke Vanion shall be the herald."


    Silence.


    "Well," said Mother, sounding disturbed. "On that note, I have received a letter from Adrian Wrynncurth. Apparently, he has decided to let the incident in Gel Carn go.


    "He has communicated with Duke Vanion and observed your and William''s actions. The dragons you slew have regenerated, and the stolen treasure is restored. In light of William and your heroics, he will put the matter aside. He was here just a little while ago and was very polite."


    "Why are we talking about betraying House Gabriel," asked Tanith. Mother was keeping the subject the same here.


    "In this situation, your Father has to consider every possible outcome," said Mother. "One of them is that King Gavin will bring an army to Gel Carn en route to this meeting. He would only need a small force to seize it without leadership."


    "Fine then," said Tanith. "I''ll go there myself and take command. Don''t bother with the marriage alliance; if you set one up, I''ll kill him before the wedding."


    "What?" said Mother. "But they''d be a Prince."


    "I haven''t noticed most of Gavin''s sons exerting any authority," said Tanith. "I don''t know him. I don''t remember his deeds. I don''t know his plans. And it won''t be Aras; he''s in love with an elven woman, so don''t even bring it up. Marrying a Prince will cause us to betray House Gabriel.


    "Which absolutely cannot be allowed to happen. So I will kill him if you try to marry me to him."


    "That''s treason," said Mother.


    "If it''s treason to stick by your friends," said Tanith. "And repay debts to people you owe everything to; I''ll be glad to count myself among the traitors.


    "Gavin is weak, I''ve already beaten his proxy, and Vanion will one day be King of Antion. Marrying a Prince of Haldren would be a stupid, short-term move. And I won''t allow it. You''re my Mother, Lady Telus, and I love you. But don''t ever take sides against Duke Vanion. Ever."


    Mother stared incredulously. "Would you William him over your own House?"


    "We owe House Gabriel everything," said Tanith. "They have given us many privileges and many rights. We have good land in Artarq; we are treated as equals when we are far less prominent. Our names are respected.


    "Were you to betray that trust and sully our honor for political expediency, I would love you the less. Besides, Vanion would destroy us all if we made an enemy of him. If we hold our ground here now, we''ll be more potent than ever. Sell out our closest ally, and who would ever give any credit to what we say?


    "We''ll be given a traitor''s reward. To keep what we have until we lose to a favorite."


    "I will take your concerns to your Father," said Mother. "We are concerned about how Vanion keeps cutting down the nobility of Artarq, however."


    "All of them committed crimes and raised a rebellion," said Tanith. "Vanion set laws, and those laws were violated. He puts them in a position where they may choose death or loyalty.


    "They chose death, so he strips them of rank and makes a marriage alliance for legitimacy. We now face that choice. Antion might come in on his side if there is a civil war, and we''ve already beaten Kern in a proxy war. Why should our reward for victory be shackling ourselves to a sinking ship? House Telus is the future of Haldren. Shall we sell that future to a nobody who did not even send troops to Haldren?"


    "I understand what you''re saying Tanith," said Mother. "However, if you are correct, you should head at once to Gel Carn."


    "I will do so," said Tanith. "It was good to speak with you, Mother." And she headed out the door. Atria was waiting on the other side, and Tanith considered that she did not want to travel alone. So she drew a dagger and offered it to Atria.


    "Take this knife and use it however you see fit," said Tanith. "On whoever you see fit. Follow me." From there, she turned her back to Atria, who halted.


    "May I ask why, Mistress?" asked Atria, blinking.


    "I might need someone with a knowledge of languages," said Tanith, looking back.


    "I meant the knife," said Atria.


    They walked out, and Tanith rapidly donned armor and prepared for travel. Atria went garbed in black, and together they hurried north. Oxen carrying new crops were coming in and going the other way.


    "Because I want to see what you''ll do with it," said Tanith. Atria hadn''t stabbed her.


    Atria did not seem to understand this. "Do you not want me to be a submissive slave?"


    "A Harlenorian submits when it is appropriate," said Tanith. "They know their master; they serve them with absolute loyalty. They adhere to their code of conduct absolutely.


    "You''ve done all you were asked to do. Now, Why did you do all you were asked to do?"


    "Because I am a slave," said Atria.


    Tanith looked at her. "Find a new reason. Or try to kill me now. This is the best chance you''ll get; we''re in an isolated location, and you''re blade is shorter. Who are you, and what do you want?"


    Atria considered taking the blade. "Mistress, I do not hate you enough to commit suicide in a foreign land."


    "Then follow me," said Tanith. "And figure out why that is. Foreign servants go far in the service of House Gabriel by being of use. You can only be of use by being able to think. Let''s go."


    So the return journey for Tanith began.

 Chapter Thirty-Six: Honor Among Thieves

    The Thieves Guildhall of Ascorn was very lovely. Lots of chandeliers, and the torture chamber was behind a secret door in the basement, as of yet unused.


    Arkan planned to have a significant presence once Lilas took control. It was disguised as a bank, of course, whatever that was. Some advanced form of money-lending where you couldn''t hang the money lender. And in the back was a safe, kept under heavy guard, with a lot of money in it.


    Although red and Vow weren''t here, Arkan had ordered the group to disperse a bit.


    Tavish knew several people already planned to rob it if the Thieves Guild went under. And he knew Arkan knew and had done nothing. Tavish wondered if Arkan had anything better to do with the money. Then again, most of it was heavy and solid gold.


    But that didn''t matter because Tavish Kern was in love. Theirs had been a whirlwind romance stirred up in two meetings.


    Taking sight of the armor with the object of his passion, he lined up the sights. Then he fired, and the bolt sprang forward free and clear. It plunged deep into the armor, straight through where the heart had been.


    Then he shot again and got the armor in the stomach.


    "How is the target practice?" asked Lamech.


    Lamech had ratted them out, and Tavish had used his anger to try and kill him so he''d be imprisoned. Neral Dinis could not have legitimately held him, and the moment he saw William, he''d known the game was up.


    William had a way of showing up places and making things interesting. Seeing as Tavish despised most of the people, bad things happened too...


    He wasn''t so upset. He already had his money well-supplied.


    "This crossbow is amazing," said Tavish with a smile. "It takes virtually no time to train with, is easy to aim, pieces through solid metal, and even has a second shot. Bags is a genius, and chivalry is officially dead.


    "If we''d gotten this thing a few years ago, we could have forced terms on Atravain. But, as things stand, there is limitless potential. Any idiot can down the strongest knight in the best armor with a lucky shot."


    Although, to be fair, chivalry had fought a much better battle than anyone anticipated. William had set off a chain reaction of a kind. Lots of the worst bandits were hunted down, and roads were being restored. Some more brutal taskmasters had been hung, and many organizations reformed. Tavish, meanwhile, had freed virtually every slave Atravain had. He''d shifted them to locations where they could be useful in the villages.


    It had given him a lot of covers and appeased Rusara. She needed manpower. Now, at last, he had a chance to spend all that money he''d saved up. All because of knights trying to have shining armor. A good legacy.


    "Not necessasarily," said Lamech. "Proper tactics could allow one to bypass the line of sight and engage them in melee. In addition, they violate the principles of personal combat. It would be useless against demons. Bows are difficult enough to kill supernatural creatures with. You have to swear an oath or make the shot special.


    "These impersonal weapons are useless, not without expensive preparations. If you swore an oath or something to that effect to use a crossbow, that would be very impractical.


    "Where did you get it?"


    "Oh, Imogen helped me nab one of a shipment bound for Lord Kern," said Tavish. "Or Imogen, as she called herself here. It''s a different name for any other aspect. Kern hopes they can help him put down the Furbearers for good.


    "Imogen didn''t like that."


    "Nice," said Lamech. "Should be a lot of blood."


    "Gentleman, I am pleased you think chivalry is not altogether dead, but we have a crisis to deal with," said Arkan. Arkan actually liked chivalry in an intellectual sense. Mostly because he''d done a lot of adventuring with Dunmoore, and it was nostalgic.


    Tavish looked up from the firing range. It was a high-ceilinged room, and Arkan stood in leather armor. His spear was in place, and guards were around from his homeland. These were well-armed and loyal to something other than money. He looked much more admiral than thief at the moment.


    "Some crisis," said Lamech. "All you''re most reliable subordinates are only carrying legal goods. You kept all of them separate from one another. Not one of them had a discussion with you or anyone else directly.


    "This is literally the first we''ve been together out in the open like this."


    "Fine words from someone cutting and running," said Tavish.


    "You cut and ran weeks ago," said Lamech.


    "Well, obviously," said Tavish.


    Arkan sighed. "Enough.


    "Now that Cirithil has legal rights to our holdings, we''ll have to play things his way for a bit, Lamech. However, our convoys are already en route and should replenish our cash reserves. They need to learn about the resources, and Cirithil has control of the fort.


    "On the bright side, Cirithil will take most of the heat.


    "Unless...


    "Do they know about our outpost?"


    "Not to my knowledge," said Tavish. "William took no action against it there, and I think he''s making this up as he goes. If he knew about it, why not just cross the mountain and go directly there? Jehair might be smart enough to do this, but she prefers us to the Antion nobility. And she''s gonna need us for when she takes over Blackfear.


    "Larxe could figure it out, but William is a Paladin, and somehow I doubt he was sitting at that table of his own free will. Just because he convinced Larxe to attack the undead doesn''t mean she''ll listen.


    "And even if she does, his goal is to get to Gel Carn. He doesn''t even know what we''re doing out here."


    "The Dreaming Goddess has been darting around," said Lamech. "She might alert him to Cirithil''s operations."


    "What if she does?" asked Arkan with a sigh. "William has no army to gather, and Cirithil''s are, broadly speaking, in the worst of all worlds, legal. Even if he does ally with Neral Dinis to take out Cirithil and his merchant allies, what then?


    "Is he really going to rush off simply because a few are from Haldren?


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Jehair is going to direct him elsewhere; she hates Harlenor."


    "What if William has control of her? Redemption is a possibility," said Tavish. From a Paladin sense, anyway.


    "If that were going to happen, it would have happened long ago," said Arkan. "Jehair is not going back on everything she has been scheming for because she likes a blonde kid." Tavish reminded himself that William was younger than him. Tavish was a genius to set all this up. He wondered if William was just a prodigy. "Maybe he''ll convince her to be more lenient in her plans, but she''s not a god, and William is no messiah."


    "Master and Apprentice," said Lamech.


    "What?" said Arkan.


    "Blackguards have a philosophy," said Lamech. "You cannot learn everything by yourself. If you want to grow in strength, you must find a master. Someone you acknowledge is stronger and more varied than you.


    "It is called the Code of the Sathri.


    "William might acknowledge Jehair as a superior adventurer. He might regard her as necessary, even a worthy opponent. However, during the discussions I witnessed, he did not take her into his counsel.


    "It is possible that William has already deduced Jehair''s nature and has only been waiting to turn on her. He is simply waiting for the opportune moment. Most likely, when Larxe has savaged Cirithil and his men to death, leaving his hands clean. At that point, both he and Jehair'' are on divergent courses.


    "One of them must destroy or usurp the other. As the weaker part, if William does not usurp her now, his glory and honor go to her. So, defeat her in a sword duel or have Larxe arrest her. Or both. Send her to Antion as he did me, have her sell us out."


    "He''s wasting his time," said Arkan. "They''ll never crack Jehair; she is a zealot, not a mercenary. Her goal has been to help Antion along with their inevitable suicide. She has no family, no strong personal connections who wouldn''t be hung."


    "She might want to take us with her," said Lamech.


    "She''ll die before she chooses the nobility over the common people!" said Arkan, angrier than he expected. He''d worked with Jehair long enough to understand what she hated, and parasites were one of them.


    "She might hate both equally and see it as a chance to set them against one another," said Lamech, ever the cynic.


    "What about Princess Oresa?" asked Tavish suddenly. "She could have value as a hostage. And she''s near here. Her guardians are off raiding Babarassians while she is nice with children."


    "I already have someone watching her," said Arkan. "If the news is bad, we head for Haldren. We take the gold reserves we stashed there, sell her for what we can get, then work things out from there."


    At that moment, an officer arrived. "Admiral, sir." Arkan preferred being called Admiral when in ports. He was nostalgic for days spent patrolling the Islands of Power and battling pirates. Particularly Raj Danal and his nemesis, Kamar.


    "What is it?" asked Arkan.


    A letter was offered, and Arkan took it with a stoic face. Then, looking at the seal, he raised an eyebrow. "A letter from Maius of all people. A warning." He broke the seal and unrolled it. "Jehair has been arrested; Larxe is making an alliance with Korlac. Isriath is refounding a settlement in the old fortress. They are allied with Neral Dinis and the people of Blackfear.


    "All of our convoys are being intercepted, and those with illegal goods are detained. They know our fortress, so it is useless as a smuggling operation. The Naker will not get their slave shipments; their goods have been taken as weregild. Wild animals have devoured their satyr contacts.


    "Cirithil has gone insane after endorsing infant sacrifice. All of his merchant contacts are dead, killed by the satyrs. And the werewolves want to join the police. And William defeated Jehair in single combat before returning her scythe to Imogen."


    Dead silence.


    "So much for organized crime," said Lamech in amusement.


    "Time to cash out," decided Tavish, retrieving the bolt for his crossbow and rewinding it. None of his merchants had been involved in that. He''d figured it better to just own the fortress.


    "Henceforth, gentlemen, it is every man for himself," said Arkan as Tavish returned it.


    "Secure what escape routes you can and get out of Antion. No political protection will be of use; Korlac is out for blood. Take what money you have and go to locations that need it. Places with little respect for Antion law.


    "Try seeking passage on slave-ship; they will have a lot of empty cargo holds.


    "And stay off the road.


    "Now, if you''ll excuse me, I''m missing my exit plan.


    "RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!"


    Arkan Lantan hurled the scroll into the air, sprinted out the door, and Tavish and Lamech bolted after him. He was unsure whether to stab him, shake him down, or demand a piece of the action. Everyone in Ascorn around them also scattered. He either rushed for the door or started looting the place. The safe where the Guild Finances were kept was being ransacked as they sprinted out. Apparently, they''d started after the message got through.


    Arkan opened a side door that was kept locked, opening it with a unique key. They walked through calmly while everyone was panicking. From the looks of things, the entire street was falling into pandemonium. Maius had sent several letters.


    Coming to the place with the healers, they saw the member of the Guild who had been watching Princess Oresa. The auburn-haired had huge breasts, but nobody cared about her as a person. Finally, she looked up, and Lamech knocked her off the head, so she fell as a swoon before being carried out.


    By now, people were rushing out into the streets, trying to sell off valuables they''d had before. Others were trying to rob what stores they could before they went for the docks. Still, more were rushing straight off to get on the ships out. The gold and silver were sold, only for many people to come out and try to loot them.


    Dodging through the crowd, the three saw lines and lines of criminals. They were rushing to try and get through the ships. Tavish recognized them as some of the worst people he knew.


    "We''d better hurry," said Tavish.


    "No, don''t panic," said Arkan, walking. "Remain calm and composed and use the escape route I''ve set up. I have a small ship with enough finances to start somewhere else."


    Coming to the ship, Tavish halted.


    A minotaur and a group of cloaked men were sailing off in it. The minotaur had an eyepatch and a hook for a hand and wielded a cutlass while ships were departing. Bankers and longtime extortioners were bargaining years of ill-gotten gains. All for a place on slave ships.


    "Kamar!" roared Arkan. "What are you doing this far north? You don''t even sail outside the Islands of Power!"


    "I''m a minotaur pirate!" cried Kamar back with huge hands before his snout to magnify a gruff voice. "I sail all seas! Kafka sends his regards!"


    Arkan drew up his spear, hurled it, and caught the minotaur in the should, so he fell. But the minotaur hurled his cutlass. Arkan ducked under it and caught it before seeing it in hand. Then he broke it on the stones and tossed it away.


    "No matter," said Arkan, going to an entrance to the sewers and opening it. As he did, many money-lenders fled angry mobs, as well-liked merchants sold tar and fathers. Lamech raised a sword, and the mobs fled. "Follow me."


    And hurrying down the ladder, Arkan scaled the ladder. Meanwhile, a troop of circus performers ran off with the Guild Finances. Meanwhile, the enraged thieves went after them with pitchforks. Finally, making a stand, a bearded strongman in a dress beat them up while they seized a ship by force.


    Lamech was down, and Tavish scaled down and shut the hatch. Then they got into the filth. Landing, he turned as Lamech shut the door. "I have another ship moored here. It should serve us well."


    "Why wasn''t the hatch locked?" asked Tavish.


    Coming around the corner, they saw the ship sailing out of a secret cove hidden from sight. At the back was an overweight, Babarassian clad hood to toe in brown and a cyclops wielding a huge sword. "Gentlemen, we are but poor lost circus performers," said the man. "And we''re taking your ship."


    Tavish raised his crossbow and fired two bolts. Both of which were deflected by the man''s sword. "You cheating...


    "That''s not fair!"


    "Calm yourself, Tavish," said Arkan. "This was always a possibility." And pressing a stone, the wall opened to reveal a secret door into the darkness. "This will bring us to a secondary ship I set up. One guaranteed to remain in good order and unstealable by all the Gods of Antion.


    "It was a condition of coming in here.


    "And I checked it in myself a week ago."


    And hurrying down a passage, they came through and found the ship rotting as if under a century. Its mast had broken, and it fell apart to descend half-submerged.


    "What the hell is this!" said Lamech. "Even in Antion, nothing is sacred!"


    At that moment, Kiyora Yagos appeared in a flash, blue hair flowing and clad in white armor. "Blessings of Laevian and the Dreaming Goddess, jerk." Then she sent a wave of light at Lamech, sending him reeling back. His armor cracked against the stone, shaking while Kiyora spun around and struck a pose. "See you!"


    Then she vanished in a flash. Lamech groaned in pain.


    "We''d best get well beyond the city''s walls," said Arkan, not helping Lamech up. "The panic will not have spread that far."


    And they hurried off as quickly as possible, Tavish halting to help Lamech stand. They rush up a series of steps and come out. Behind them was a scenic little village. And they were busy hanging several crooks who Tavish had played them again. Looking back, Tavish saw piers stocked with many known thieves fighting to get onto a ship. There was also a heavily guarded ship.


    Heading down, Arkan came down the hill and walked toward it.


    "Hold it right there, Arkan Lantan," said the guard. "You''re under arrest for-"


    Arkan snatched his spear and whacked him over the head with it. One of the guards went at him, but Tavish knocked him over the head with the butt of his crossbow.


    "Wait," said the guard. "That vessel isn''t seaworthy!"


    "He''s lying!" said Arkan loudly so the crowds could hear. "Onto the ship, quick!"


    Instantly a large group of fleeing people rushed past him to pile onto it in a panic. But, even as they piled on, the vessel broke beneath them and spilled them into the ocean. They plunged into the sea, spluttering and yelling in a fury. Meanwhile, Lamech cracked his knuckles. The merchant had transported some of the malas that got them here.


    "Admiral," said the man. "My ship is yours."


    Lamech punched him out and sent him to the ground. Then they took his ship and crew.


    Thus they cast off as floundering men tried to scale up the side of the ship, and Lamech laughed. The crew, meanwhile, beat them off with whips until they were forced to swim back alone. Tavish reloaded his crossbow.


    "What do you want to be done with the crew?" asked Lamech.


    "Lamech, please," said Arkan as they gathered. "These strangers have befriended us through faith alone. It would be unbecoming of gentlemen thief like ourselves to mistreat. We must use the utmost respect.


    "Indeed, a true thief must be akin to a King, first in every dangerous pursuit and last to"


    "For Viokinar!" cried Kamar. "For Kreshlak!"


    Beside them came Kamar''s pirates, waving swords and crying out in battle. The crew raised the blade to meet them. Tavish, for his part, leaped over onto the empty vessel and shoved it off with an oar. Lamech and Arkan leaped after him as the last pirates entered the vessel and halted. The crew and pirates turned in surprise as they realized what was happening.


    "Thank you, Kamar, for your gift of an unoccupied vessel!" said Arkan. "I pray that you receive the same hospitality and adventure I did with these fine men!"


    "ARKAN!!" roared Kamar. "Another time! I''ll see you dead!"


    And the fight for the vessel started. Shortly before, it capsized, and everybody had to swim back to shore. Meanwhile, Arkan got away with all his plunder, laughing.


    But Arkan was done, and they sailed as quickly as they could, not knowing or caring for the crew''s fate. As they did, Arkan looked to Tavish. "Tavish, as soon as we arrive in Haldren, begin your masterstroke. It''s the last chance you''ll get.


    "Lamech and I will initiate a plan of our own. You can get us protection until we can reform our operations. Korlac cannot be allowed to run Antion indefinitely; we''ll have to unseat him. Once he gets started, he''ll make a noose of the world.


    "Tie up Oresa, and let''s go."


    Tavish had to admit; he liked this sendoff. But it would have to be paid for.


    "Are you sure no one is following us?" asked Lamech.


    Arkan laughed. "In the chaos of the evacuation, everyone is looking after their own skins. He has no connections or preparations and is late to the party and is late to the party. William will be hard-pressed to even know we were here."


    "William works for Kiyora Yagos," noted Lamech.


    Tavish didn''t care.


    This had been a bad month. But at least he''d got to see the thing collapse in spectacular fashion. It had been... fun.


    Now they had to deal with the aftermath, and that was not going to be fun.


    Three.

 Chapter Thirty-Seven: Flight from Antion

    That night, they sailed on beneath the stars, with a brisk wind moving them quickly. Tavish thought he''d done a very good job binding and gagging Princess Oresa. He liked how she looked tied up with her orange hair across her shoulders. And he also liked that, lying against the side of the boat, she did not make any attempt at escape. She was scared but observing, and Tavish guessed she was smart.


    Otherwise, the exact opposite of Tanith. A bit ironic. The swaying of the ship was a bit distracting, but he''d learned to deal with it years ago. He''d only felt a little sick during that time.


    "Are you sure nobody is following us?" asked Lamech, sitting down on the steps leading to the upper deck.


    Didn''t he ever stop?


    "As I said before, Lamech, that would be impossible," said Arkan, checking the sail. The horizon before them was in the twilight of the morning, and the clouds were clustering strong. The waves washed against them as a favorable wind sent them forth. "No one in Harlenor knows what we have done, and Isamu and his people are over in Sorn. Even if they know what is happening now, they can''t get here fast enough."


    "What about William?" asked Lamech.


    "William has no connection to this woman," said Tavish.


    "William has a lot of divine support," said Lamech, looking back. "And they might indulge him if he has a vendetta. They can cut travel times if they are angry enough. They''ve done it for you."


    "Elranor is focused on the plague. Laevian created the plague. And Barden is hands-off except for natural disasters," said Arkan. "Farasa might, but she is on our side. If we are taken out, Baltoth will have radicals to deal with.


    "Vanion can''t represent Antion. And even if he could be alerted, what of it?


    "We have moved at a breakneck pace, got off on a pre-planned ship on an abandoned pier in the dead of night. Even if he had our bearings, he would have to go up to Ascorn to find a ship. They don''t sail at night, and most of them are on a war footing."


    "He could use Tavish''s coves," noted Lamech. "And Baltoth favors House Gabriel; he respects them."


    "There might be ships there; the entrance is hard to find," said Tavish. "And it was guarded last I checked. If the Furbearers hadn''t completely packed up-"


    "They might not even be there anymore. For all we know, they''ve left," said Arkan. "And even if he catches the first boat off, after getting past all that and getting our bearings, he has to catch us."


    "William is good at climbing," said Lamech. "And has a great deal of endurance to have kept up with us."


    "In full armor?" asked Arkan. "Who is he going to leave it with? Peasants he hardly knows? His servant? Even if he can rely on him, would he really come alone? Rush all this way on a chimera, go on a boat and keep after us?


    "For this girl alone?"


    "If he discovered the names of some of the merchants," said Lamech. "He might guess there was a conspiracy in Haldren. If I were him, I''d be paranoid."


    "Perhaps the Princess could have some hand in this?" asked Tavish. "Farasa might take her seizure personally."


    "The Princess does not have any formal announcement and has many sisters," said Arkan. "Ergo, she is not of major importance. I don''t actually think she''s valuable.


    "But someone might be stupid enough to think she''s valuable. Maybe we can trick Isamu into destroying one of our enemies."


    "It might alienate Farasa," noted Tavish.


    "Damn Farasa," said Arkan. "She''s been using Gabriel against us. This whole time he''s been in exactly the right place at the right time to smash things.


    "He''s playing the Spear of Destiny here.


    "We had a good thing going until she decided to plant Reg Hawkthorne in Ascorn. I believe she envisioned a kind of... revolution of order, where Antion took the same path as Calisha.


    "As things stand, we end in stalemate."


    "But are you sure nobody is following us?" asked Lamech.


    "Why do you keep asking?" asked Arkan.


    "Because there''s a ship coming up behind us," said Lamech, pointing back with a smug smile.


    Arkan looked up, and Tavish followed his gaze. Sure enough, there was a ship with only two crewmen. It was a small vessel that one man could handle and bounced along the waves nicely. Arkan went to the back. "...It''s some random do-gooder trying to save a damsel in distress he thinks he has come across by chance."


    "On a ship with Amenos on it?" asked Lamech.


    Sure enough, there was Amenos. And with him was a boy younger than Tavish. He had long blonde hair and wore a ragged, travel-stained tunic. It was long defiled by the road and bore signs of mending. Yet he himself moved with confidence and at his side was a familiar black sword.


    "Damn it!" said Arkan. "How the devil is keeping up with us?!"


    "They must have had the pier watched," said Tavish. "Farasa could not have set this up right away. As you said, she turned on us in Ascorn."


    "Some luck," said Lamech. "Both of you row! Row!"


    They went to it at once.


    It was the first time Tavish had seen Lamech worried, and the oars were pulled repeatedly. Oresa roused herself, but a glare from Lamech made her wilt.


    "We could board and fight them," said Tavish. "We outnumber them."


    "No good," said Arkan. "Both are dangerous. Some of us would die, and we can''t afford to lose any reliable allies right now."


    Tavish nodded, and while they started rowing, he raised his crossbow and aimed at Amenos. Amenos drew and pulled back a bow, and both launched at once. An arrow landed on the deck, whizzing over Tavish''s head. His bolt landed in the stern. Trying again, he peeked over the edge but ducked as another arrow was launched. It lodged quivering an inch away from Tavish''s foot.


    Firing, this time at William, Tavish saw him hit the deck.


    So it continued, and Amenos and William were kept ducking so that soon they fell behind. Now the three of them raced ahead, and Arkan stood up. "No more rowing. We need our strength."


    "You know you''ll be caught," said Oresa, pulling her gag off. "My Father is a mighty King of Kalthak. And Isamu will be coming after me soon. Cadas can track anything, and Urus has already deduced who did this and where they are.


    "No matter what castle you take me to, they''ll storm it."


    "Perfect," said Arkan. "We can use you to start a war. Thank you for the information. Gag her."


    "MMMPH!!" shouted Oresa.


    On they went, and William and Amenos kept a distance behind them. It was a tense and silent race through dark waters. The wind was their only companion, and Tavish hated it more by the day. Almost as much as he hated pulling on the oars, this kind of labor was not his thing.


    "I just don''t think this strategy is worthy of us," said Lamech. "Kidnapping and such."


    "Am I going insane?!" said Tavish, pulling the oars faster. "Or did a Blackguard just complain about a crime being beneath his morality?! You were not hired to be a bleeding heart idealist, you dark-armored psychopath!"


    "It''s a matter of professional pride," said Lamech.


    "Not anymore, thanks to you," said Tavish.


    "Wasn''t Jehair a champion of the common people?" asked Lamech.


    "I''d say the people have made their verdict," said Tavish. "That means we''re not the villains.


    "House Gabriel is ripping our empire to shreds, and we have to get him preoccupied before things get bad."


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    "I can find work elsewhere," said Lamech. "Bretus is easy to get a high-ranking position in if you say and do the right things."


    "As can I," said Arkan. "Do not think that your lineage makes you better than me, Lamech? Between the two of us, my operations have been the more successful. And you are the more obvious one to hang."


    "Of all the necks on this boat, Arkan, you should most be concerned about your own," said Lamech, and his tone had hatred. His hand went to his sword, and Tavish went for his dagger.


    "You need me much more than I do you, Lamech," said Arkan.


    "I do not need you, Arkan," said Lamech. "And I owe you nothing."


    "Oh, you do," said Arkan, grasping his spear. "You define yourself in opposition to the forces of ''good'' whatever they are. You can''t conceive of a thing for yourself. That''s why you needed Karus.


    "You never had any real plan to achieve what you wanted, aside from following orders and sewing chaos. So I put you in a position where you could do that without disrupting my plans. You have been well paid consistently by me, and I have never cheated you or gone behind your back.


    "Don''t insult my intelligence by saying that you don''t owe me anything. You do. Just as you owe the man who killed your Father.


    "What happened to your search for that murderer? Or were you just using it as your excuse?"


    "You never cared about it," said Lamech. "Why bring it up now if not to save yourself?" Arkan was going to kill Lamech.


    "Obviously not; it''s not my Father. I knifed him ages ago after he threw a spear at me for outdoing his military record," said Arkan. "But you did at one point. You wouldn''t have sold your soul for the power to kill him otherwise.


    "You can''t seriously tell me you''ve been looking for him this whole time.


    "I gave you the world he was from and that he was in Harlenor. You know his face, so the answer has been right in front of you all along. Were you even trying to solve it? Could you have finished the job with a swing of your sword?


    "So why did you wait?"


    "You have a theory?" scoffed Lamech.


    "It is because you were afraid," said Arkan. "You were afraid to take your revenge because you knew that revenge would be justice. You knew you''d be the hero if you took it, if only for a moment.


    "So you played second fiddle to Tavish for years and let Gabriel rip your holdings to shreds. And you pretend as if none of it matters to you when people point out your failures. ''It''s just money.'' ''I care not.'' But money is power, provided you know how to use it.


    "If money has no value, it is not money."


    "Then perhaps I should just kill you where you stand!" said Lamech, dropping his oar and drawing his sword.


    "If you want to challenge me, Blackguard, you''d best be prepared to die," said Arkan, raising his oar in defiance. He was unarmored, and Lamech still flinched. Tavish dropped his ore in disgust.


    And he said the kind of tone that you never wanted to disobey. The last person who''d tried it had been killed on the spot. Lamech held his gaze, but Tavish saw that his hand was shaking.


    ''Lamech is afraid of Arkan,'' realized Tavish stopping himself from saying it.


    "I just might," said Lamech. He hauled on his oar all the stronger.


    "And I just might use you to patch things up with Furbearers," said Arkan. "Is that what you want?


    "Be assured; I didn''t just keep you on hand here because you''re my son. I also did it because letting the Furbearers rip you to shreds might buy me passage. And Tavish right now is a lot more valuable than you."


    Silence.


    "What of Prince Aras?" asked Lamech, sheathing his sword.


    "Good," said Arkan. "You''ve started to think proactively again. We''re liable to lose all of the Thieves Guild''s holdings in this continent.


    "We became sloppy and complacent."


    "What of Prince Aras?" asked Lamech.


    "King Gavin prefers to administer from his castle," said Tavish. "Prince Aras likes going abroad. However, we have no communication; his job, as far as I can tell, is to wreck my plans when they don''t go his way."


    "Why not just ask?" asked Oresa innocently.


    "It doesn''t work that way," said Tavish. "If I go around sending reports to King Gavin on what I have to do, he is obligated to shut it all down. Do you think I work with a Blackguard so I can redeem his soul?


    "I do nasty stuff to keep the criminal element in line and out of royal business. Lamech takes care of that stuff, and I keep him channeled on people who need knifing. Do you want me to send him back to where he was before?


    "Murdering random corrupt officials for the greater evil in Antion?"


    "No, thank you," said Oresa.


    "And you, Arkan," said Tavish. "Before I entered things, Aras was planning to take you out personally. He would have rubbed you out years ago, damn the nobility if I hadn''t said you''d keep things organized!


    "Well, what do you call this?!


    "If you had just murdered everyone who acted contrary to the Crown we''d be fine right now."


    "Well, truth be told, spending all my time murdering people who trust me does not appeal," said Arkan.


    "Oh, pitch the loveable rogue nonsense, Arkan," said Tavish. "We''re professional murderers.


    "Our job is to brutalize the criminal element into control by any means necessary. If you''d just done your job, none of this would have happened!"


    "I wish you''d stop pretending like you were a grown-up," said Oresa. "You''re not that much older than me."


    "And in the space of five minutes, the Princess becomes a better criminal than you, Tavish," said Arkan. "The gentleman thief persona is not entertainment; it is essential. Even an illusion of culture and class can be of great use.


    "Pure brutality has its virtues but doesn''t work in the long term. I kept things safe for years by a velvet glove."


    "You shouldn''t have been keeping things safe!" said Tavish. "Your job was to engineer the downfall of your own organization! Why the hell do you think I deliberately made all those villages self-sufficient?


    "The purpose of the Thieves Guild is to exterminate the worst of the criminal underworld. Then you will your own downfall. But you and the other noble elitist bastards weren''t satisfied with that were you?


    "You betrayed your own god and imprisoned him for ten years. Now you''re surprised that he''s engineering your downfall! If you''d just stuck by Elranor, we might have had a chance."


    "That isn''t my jurisdiction," said Arkan.


    "You could have reigned in Cirithil with a few threatening words," said Tavish. "You didn''t do that because you didn''t care!


    "You ruined the prospects of an entire nation because you felt powerful when everyone else was starving! Your children''s children are going to be dealing with your screwups! And for what?!


    "Because it was convenient? Because it was a little less troublesome to destroy the future of your species than putting a bit of effort in now. And when anyone tried to be a hero, you had only sneering excuses!


    "''If we''re going to have crime, we might as well have organized crime.'' ''Vampires aren''t a problem; they''re just misunderstood.'' ''Humans are the real monsters.'' ''A King is just someone who chopped off more heads than another person.'' And my personal favorite;


    "''Beware of heroes!'' Means that there''s no such thing as a hero, so you don''t have to feel bad counting your blood money!


    "Well, you did it, Arkan! You successfully destroyed the very concept of heroism itself ! So who''s going to save you?"''


    "You''re forgetting who you''re-" began Arkan.


    "Shut up," said Tavish. "There aren''t any bosses anymore on this ship. The chain of command is done!


    "I have never been your subordinate, Arkan! I''ve never been Elranor''s subordinate, and I was never a servant of justice! I was a servant of my country, Harlenor, and everything it stood for.


    "And now there is no Harlenor! Just a hodgepodge of evil races ripping the lower classes to shreds for fun. All while you mug bastards sneer at them from your manors!


    "Well, it won''t work! Because there''s a King coming to set this place to rights. All despite your best efforts, you worthless servant! And it''ll all be on your head, you selfish, conceited bastard!


    "Cirithil and Jehair are done for! And I hope it''s your home and family next!"


    Arkan was silent. For the first time since Tavish had ever seen him, he was completely speechless. He opened his mouth, looked back to the ship chasing them silently, and then toward the land before them.


    Turning away, Arkan looked suddenly forty years old. A man nearing old age who had only now remembered it. Finally, he turned around. "Anyone who threatens my home or family, Tavish, will die for it.


    "Do you understand that?"


    "Perfectly," said Tavish. "But it won''t do you any good once the Heir of Kings returns. And they will now. The nobility have no credibility left, and they know it. They''ll need her to make anything of this mess."


    "Good," said Arkan. "Sir Gabriel is too late. We have reached the Cliffs of Torment.


    "Even if he scales up that way, we''ll be waiting. They can''t stop us now."


    The cliffs of torment soared skyway like jagged teeth out of a foaming sea. The storm clouds looked nearly ready to burst, and Tavish hated the idea of climbing in the rain. Closer they went, and into a little inlet that went nowhere but up. They leaped off the boat, donning gloves and moving Oresa out.


    There was a rope hanging down, long-prepared in advance. It was designed to withstand all elements of magic. From the looks of things, it was in perfect condition.


    They had gained some distance from William by now. And they took some time to rest as the boat slowly came closer. Finally, Arkan stood up.


    "Lamech, you have the Princess," said Arkan. "Tavish goes first, then myself."


    Tavish grasped the rope and secured his crossbow. Then he began to scale up as quickly as he could, hating it. Arkan had insisted they learn this, and only now did he realize why. Arkan had a somewhat mythical notion of what a thief was. It was disconnected from crime entirely. As he went up, a glance down revealed Lamech and Arkan behind them. Oresa was tied to Lamech''s back like baggage, and up they went.


    Higher and higher, yet an arrow shot near Tavish''s hand, and they looked back to see William and Amenos nearing. This would be narrow. He scaled hand over hand, thanking him that he was the lightest. Yet an arrow hit the wall near him and another close at hand. Below, he saw Amenos and William scaling up after them quickly.


    The cliffs seemed to stretch on forever, and no matter what they did, it did not seem to get closer. On and on, the relentless chase went, and Tavish''s arms ached in labor. Yet behind him, he saw William gaining, going far above Amenos. Gods above, how did he scale so quickly? He was nearly at Lamech now.


    At last, Tavish reached the top and leaped over ahead of Arkan. Knowing he didn''t have a moment to lose, he moved to the rock where the rope was tied. Around them were many boulders and broken stones. And a little ways off were the ruins of an ancient Furbearer mill, once the most advanced of its kind. Its secrets of using the wind had long since been rediscovered. But it stood there nonetheless.


    Kneeling down, Tavish began to undo the rope. He''d get it back after this was over. But Lamech came, tossed the Princess down like an unwanted package, and drew his sword.


    "Wait!" said Tavish. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Pride cometh before the fall," laughing Lamech. Then he brought his sword down and severed the rope in one swift stroke. It went over the edge and slipped away.


    Arkan smiled. "They had just enough rope to hang themselves.


    "Shut up," said Tavish, laughing despite himself. "That''s not funny."


    The Princess seemed to think this in terrible taste. Tavish, however, moved over to the edge and made sure Lamech wasn''t behind him. Looking down, he saw William and Amenos still climbing. They''d fallen some distance but had caught themselves and were moving up. At this moment, the storm broke, and it began to rain.


    "Lamech," said Tavish. "Take care of them. If you kill them, fine; if not, we''ll make a deal."


    "Fine by me," said Lamech.


    Arkan looked to Tavish. "Let''s get out from under the rain. We''ll take the Princess to weather the storm and see what fate has to offer."


    The rain intensified.


    "Princess Oresa, consider this an opportunity," said Arkan. He picked her up and slung her over one shoulder. "Don''t run off; these Furbearers are not fond of foreigners. The last batch used to live over there in the ruins."


    So they ran for it as Lamech found a suitable boulder.

 Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Cliffs of Thrakmul

    The good news was that they were in time, and Amenos had insisted they bear cloaks as they scaled. The bad news was that William was halfway up a sheer cliff. He had no rope in the middle of the rain in the most desolate region of Haldren. The rocks were slick with seawater and sharp, even through his gloves.


    A sense of vertigo went over him as he scaled higher and remembered what they were getting into. Lamech and two others were waiting on the top with weapons. It was nearly impossible to hear what they said past the wind.


    All this to save some women he''d had about one conversation with?


    William would love to say he was here to check Ran Telus. But he hadn''t had to diverge to follow Arkan after he saw him, and that had been mere chance. He had just discovered who it was when he saw Lamech midway into the pursuit.


    Now, the wind was whipping around their cloaks. Higher William scaled with gloved hands, and Amenos was behind him. Finding footholds in this darkness was hard, and both had a miracle. The rain was cold as it dropped onto his face, and he shivered.


    Climbing down was even more brutal than climbing up, and he needed to learn the footholds.


    "Not exactly what I was hoping for when I made port," said Amenos with a rare smile.


    "What were you hoping for?" asked William, finding a rough patch and scaling up, moving his knee up to find somewhere to stand on. Unfortunately, it was a tough place to scale by.


    "A nice inn, dinner with the wife," laughed Amenos.


    At that moment, a flash of lightning was above as a bolt struck the rocks further down. The cliff suffered, and stones fell around them as the sea was illuminated. And above them was Lamech, who appeared as a silhouette, clad once again in armor. Above him, he looked like a menacing god of sorts. In his hands was a huge boulder raised skyward. "Greetings to you, Paladin."


    Well, William was at a disadvantage.


    "This is not as easy as it looks," said William. "So if you''re hoping for a sword duel, you ought to be sporting about this." He was well past being surprised.


    "No," said Lamech, smiling through his facemask of teeth.


    And he tossed the boulder, letting it roll down the side while laughing maniacally. But it went too far to the side and moved to the left. The sound of it cracking on the stone was deafening, reechoing off the walls as sparks flew near him. Keeping his hand despite the heat and shaking rock, William scrambled upwards. But Lamech picked up another and hurled that, sending it bouncing down the slopes to the right. They cracked and broke, and rock splinters went everywhere as William neared the top, now in a mad dash. His hand hurt from a sharp stone, but the skin did not break. His foot slipped, sending tiny rocks down, but he kept going up.


    The closer he got, the better Lamech''s aim. The cliff was sparking and shaking with the strikes as lightning shattered the sky. Rain poured all around them, soaking them. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At last, Lamech hurled a boulder in a dead-center shot. William knew it would hit him and used his arms to throw himself to one side. The boulder shot past him, and its coursed missed Amenos, who was further down. William found a foothold and scaled up like mad, scraping his leg. Getting to the top, he saw Lamech approaching him with a sword, and for a moment, he was exposed.


    But Lamech stumbled and fell to one knee from his labors in armor, tired from his throwing. William rose up, drew his sword, and stabbed for Lamech''s face plate. But Lamech''s white sword parried it, and the duel was on. He swung at William, and William leaped back. He felt the wind of the blade on his neck and realized he''d nearly lost his head. William jumped away and smote him on the head with the flat of his sword. The blade rang out, and Lamech grunted right before he lashed out.


    An armored gauntlet hit William in the gut, sending him to the ground, and William fell to one knee, stunned. He saw Lamech''s feet before him and rolled away on reflection. At that exact moment, the White Sword came down to cleave into the stone. As William stood up, sparks flew up and set fire to a nearby push.


    Retreating back onto rocky terrain, William saw Lamech advancing. Behind him, a bush was struck by lightning and lit into an inferno even in the rain. Slowed by the heavy stones and rocks, William saw the city of Thrakmul far beyond. It stood beside them in ancient ruins. Once a place of terrible dark power, with many horrible spires rising upward. They reeked of dark energy, designed like Gel Carn. Yet in ancient days, long before the rise of House Gabriel, this place had been a paradise of darkness.


    All the horrors and rituals seen in Antion had been there and more. And those who were called the Furbearer sacrificed infants upon it. Lamech saw it as well, and the idea seemed to please him. And he raised a hand toward it as William had before, and William saw in Thrakmul a vision of past and future.


    A place where dark creatures flew overhead, and men were sacrificed on altars to the Shark Queen. Where fresh new horrors marched forth to plague his people. All to achieve the vengeance of the Furbearers. He saw a great rampage, a Jihad where Kata and Sokar or those like him led those in a bloodbath.


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    Old men and women were murdered en masse, and children were slain in bloody tribute. The land of Antion made excuses for the atrocities of the sins of the past. The redemption of Antion for these atrocities would be looking the other way to new ones. And those who rebuilt this place would make vengeance their goal.


    And Kata and Sokar and all the others would be damned for their atrocities.


    Lamech smiled.


    No, it would not happen.


    William charged at Lamech, roaring in rage. Lamech was taken off guard, and his sword was knocked aside. William got him across the shoulder, and the impact sent him reeling. Another blow bit into Lamech''s helm and caught him on the side of the head. But Lamech made a move with his own sword.


    William leaped back on instinct, and Lamech''s sword slashed the cloth on his legs. Now he knew how close he''d been to death. Circling one another, William saw Lamech was favoring his left side. Rushing to his right, he ducked under Lamech''s sword and grabbed him by the left shoulder. Vaulting over him, Lamech grunted in pain before William hit him in the back. The blade of the blow nearly jarred his sword from him, but Lamech fell to one knee. William raised his sword to strike again, but a fist from Lamech got him in the gut. He staggered back, spitting out blood and feeling in agony. Lamech stood up as William readied to strike again.


    Then Lamech fell to one knee, coughing up his own blood. He seemed unable to continue, and William stepped back to let him rise.


    He would not strike a helpless opponent.


    Gasping for air, William saw Amenos standing up, fainting with weariness. Then Lamech grasped a stone, and William ducked. It shot past where his head had been as Lamech roared and attacked. His sword now burned with an unholy flame as lightning surrounded the sky. Yet the lightning reflected off the Black Sword. As it shone, it illuminated the world for a single instant.


    Now they saw it, a desolate and terrible wasteland of destruction. And Thrakmul no longer seemed the horror. The old ways of evil were done, and those who sought to resurrect them would fail. There would be struggles and battles. But the world would pass into greater enlightenment. A world where the old things were restored. But without the corruption that destroyed them.


    A new and decent place where strangers could be treated with kindness and without fear.


    Lamech thought it fit only for death.


    William saw a new beginning.


    Both charged toward one another, and their swords clashed. Hellfire met heaven''s light, meeting on strength and strength. Straining against one another, William could feel the stones way beneath Lamech''s might. Yet Lamech could not feel it in his armor. As he stepped forward, William fell to one knee so that his enemy stumbled and fell to the ground.


    Lamech rose up, blade striking, but now William held the high ground and disarmed him with a riposte. Another stroke sent him onto his back, his armor cracking.


    No more chances. William saw before him the manifestation of everything wrong with this world. It would not happen again.


    "You die today, Blackguard," said William.


    And he raised his sword to plunge the blade in through his faceplate. Even as he did, however, William screamed. A power surged down, and he felt agony in his flesh, covering his body. His limbs went weak, he couldn''t breathe, and his vision was fading save for Lamech. No matter how he gasped, the air was not coming in fast. His heart was beating like a drum, and his vision blurred.


    "Yes," said Lamech in dark joy. "You feel it, don''t you?


    "All those plagues you''ve been wiping out. All in the domain of Laevian. Did you think there wouldn''t be any payment for it?" And he snatched his sword and rose. "It''s ironic, you spend all this time putting the God Triumvirate back in power.


    "And the first thing they do is let Laevian wipe you off the map."


    William could hardly speak or breathe. He fought to heal the infection and diseases coursing through him. They became worse and worse by the moment and nothing he could stop it. "...You exaggerate."


    "This is where you fall, Paladin!" roared Lamech. He raised his sword to stab him in the heart.


    William mustered all his power and rolled aside while screaming in agony. Lamech''s stroke stabbed deep into the stone; however, he could not draw it out. And as he was marveling at what he had done, William scrambled up. Then, rising, he smote him on the head and then the shoulder and hit him repeatedly. Every blow was like a thousand weary steps as he forced him away from his sword and toward the ledge.


    But Lamech grabbed his hand and shook the blade from it. Then, snatching him by the cloak, he pulled him around to dangle over the edge.


    "I will be the successor to Melchious!" said Lamech. "And you will be the first of many worthy opponents to die!" And he reached for William''s throat.


    He had only a moment before dark fingers closed around his throat.


    So he snatched the claps of his cloak, loosened it, and slipped through. Catching himself on the ledge, Lamech looked down in surprise. William grabbed Lamech by the belt and pulled him forward. As he did, Lamech screamed in rage and pulled over the edge while William went up.


    But Lamech grasped him by the leg and nearly pulled him down. Amenos grabbed William''s arm, even as Lamech tried to scale up over him. Snatching up his sword, William swung with all his might. Unfortunately, the first blow cut straight into the steel.


    "I''ve had enough of this journey!!" roared William, striking him again. "Die and be forgotten!!"


    And he hit Lamech a final time. The Blackguard howled as his grip was loosed. He slipped from the cliffs, fell toward the raging seas below, and landed between the rocks. A great wave of water splashed away around him as William dangled. As thunder roared, William knew his armor would drown him. And you could not shed it so quickly. Yet even as he thought this, William saw what might have been an armored hand climbing up one of the rocks. Pulling itself up, Lamech emerged onto the stones, his every move in agony. So now he stood in the rain, shipwrecked on rocks alone.


    From the failing darkness came a swift vessel, crewed by a minotaur and his men who came to him. So Lamech bartered passage with them and sold out his friends for means to survive. William stared at the unfairness of it. But he was nearly slipping himself, desperately trying to scale up. Then, a pair of hands caught him and pulled him up. A cloak was put around him, and William saw Amenos near him.


    "Thank you, Amenos," said William.


    "Well, you did most of the fighting thus far," said Amenos. "Let''s see about this Princess of yours."


    So they headed toward the only shelter they could see. And Old Mill of strange architecture, near the broken ruins of what had once been a good land.


    The light began to break in the heavens above. But the rain continued for a time.

 Chapter Thirty-Nine: Reunited

    The lands around William were barren and broken, with rocks strewn about them. Some were smooth from rainfall or had lain in craters. There was no air of corruption as in Blackfear. It was not corrupted as Blackfear but simply dead. It was all broken stone and shattered walls. The wind howled, even as the rain let up and the world was bathed in golden light.


    These desolate ruins now seemed beautiful, an echo of past glories. And William thought it could not have been as terrible as Lamech thought. Evil was by nature a corruption of what was, and Thrakmul could not be built without many virtues.


    He saw roots and trees growing up around him. This land was not entirely dead, and they refreshed themselves at a spring Amenos found. The water was heavenly on their mouths as they dried themselves. Once done, they filled their canteens.


    "I hate to leave the ship," said Amenos. "But it doesn''t seem we''ll have a chance to return for it."


    William nodded.


    Clambering through the ruins by day and night, he and Amenos headed after Arkan and Tavish.


    It was a painful journey, leading into the ruins in the rain. The mill they''d tracked them to was found empty. They''d stayed long enough to watch the fight and warm themselves. Then they''d headed off. But it wasn''t long before the rain returned, pushing them harder. The very walls of Thrakmul seemed to be fighting against them. William kept a spell aloft, illuminating his surroundings with the sun spirit. Meanwhile, Amenos shivered in the rain.


    "This is no good," said Amenos. "We should find shelter and wait. Tavish and Arkan will not move on unless we press them."


    Soon enough, they took shelter beneath an overhang and waited. The rain poured down as they did, and they tried to keep themselves warm without a fire. All around were jagged rocks and fallen buildings. As they watched, William saw the remnants of a great wall. But it was now battered into nothingness, where the city began.


    It was a city, wasn''t it?


    Looking back, he saw remnants of an ancient harbor standing in place. A shattered tower was on either side, and an island was far off. Fields that could have once been fertile were now destroyed utterly. Once or twice, they found old bones, clutching ancient weapons preserved by magic.


    "What did this?" asked William.


    "Anoa the Bright," said Amenos. "He and Neral Dinis had a personal enmity. Neral Dinis lured him here, and Anoa followed. The spirits of the land supported Neral Dinis, so Anoa destroyed them.


    "In fairness, the Furbearers were not nice." Amenos grinned. "Neral Dinis initiated the hostilities in the most dishonorable and destructive ways."


    "I know," said William. "Anoa cursed this land to remain barren. This is Thrakmul, the Desolate City. All who walk here are unwelcome.


    "Tavish must have come here to arrive in secret." He saw minor signs of growth returning, the grass here and there in the dirt. Even so, there were many stretches where the ground was pure, barren rock. "It seems the wrath of Anoa has waned."


    Yet now and then, he heard whispers, voices of wrath that went through the rocks. They spoke of fires burning day and night, of slaughter unheard of.


    At that moment, they saw the light in the distance as the rain died. William looked to Amenos, and both drew swords and headed toward it. Then, hurrying off as quick as they could, they tried to stay out of sight of it. Eventually, they came to an acropolis with a broken structure at the top. A palace or temple, perhaps? Or a granary?


    Scaling up the hill, they came to the light of the fire and found Arkan and Tavish speaking with two Furbearers. Sokar and Kata were on the opposite time beneath a large canvass shelter.


    "Ah, hail the conquering hero! Get the man a drink!" called Arkan.


    What?


    "Kata, Sokar, what are you doing out here?" said William, sheathing his sword in bemusement. "Why are you drinking with these scoundrels?"


    "This was once the great Furbearer City of Thrakmul," said Kata with a shrug. "Neral Dinis had his fortress here and long contended with Anoa. For sixteen years, the armies of Haldren laid siege to it. Anoa was often called away to other businesses.


    "But at last, it fell.


    "And my people fell to flee into the hills and hide in snows. You can still find skeletons out here in this place. Harlenorian and Furbearer, like snowflakes melting in the sun. We''ve been giving them proper burials according to their heritage."


    "Was this arranged?" asked William. "Why are you working together?"


    "No," said Sokar. "They just happened to enter after we did."


    "It was a good fight," said Tavish, sharpening a knife.


    "We didn''t want to meddle without knowing the sides," said Kata. "And well, you were the one who taught us that politics weren''t personal. So we didn''t like the idea of fighting them just for vengeance.


    "So we''re just happy you took out their friend. Lamech was not pleasant.


    "Which side are you on, William?"


    William blinked. "What are the sides?"


    "It doesn''t even matter at this point," said Sokar, looking at Tavish warily. "By learning the sides, you shift the balance of power and change what they are. As a result, we''ve had a small war on the borders of our land and gained peace.


    "Now we are out here scouting these parts."


    "To what end?" asked William.


    "I wanted to see if we might resettle this area, but the land is still desolate," said Sokar. "I don''t think the spirits of this place want anyone living here."


    "Everywhere I go, I feel the hatred of the land," said Kata. "This place of consumed by wrath. And I don''t think it is directed at any one place. But, at least we can give some of the dead peace."


    "How did you fair?" asked William. "I''ve had no news of you since the death of Lord Rius."


    That was how an extended explanation of events came to William. He noted to get Tanith to write down her story at some point.


    The account of the war between Kern and the Furbearers fascinated him. But Amenos was concerned about this.


    "If Lord Kern has lost the war," said Amenos. "Then Gavin''s next move is subversion. Turn House Telus against House Gabriel and divide them. Once that happens-"


    "The Furbearers are completely reliant on House Telus," said Arkan. "Gavin can move right in. King Osrif will end up a glorified vassal to House Telus.


    "Whereas if it doesn''t happen, Duke Vanion can mediate between powers. Which gives you, Prince Sokar, the advantage."


    William looked over to where Oresa was thinking silently. "Do you have any input in this, milady?"


    "Well," said Oresa. "I was recently kidnapped again.


    "But now that you''re here, I''m rescued. Duke Vanion has a right to keep his holdings. And it will be better for everyone if he does.


    "But having a full-scale war over it won''t be good."


    "So where is Felix?" asked Kata quickly, brushing her hair back.


    "Guarding my armor," said William. "Inglorious, but I had to come after the lady here as quickly as possible."


    "Yes, I really appreciate it," said Oresa. "Why come after me, though?"


    "I was going to head to Ran Telus to investigate possible disloyalty," said William. "Felix will have sent a letter by now, knowing him. Father should learn of it by his own devices.


    "However, en route, I was informed of your taking by Farasa and came after you.


    "This is Amenos, an old friend of my mentor Rusara."


    "A pleasure to meet you," said Amenos, offering a hand.


    Oresa took it, and Kata looked to Oresa with lingering eyes, then William.


    "You observed the battle?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Sokar. "And we won''t be shedding any tears over him. Lamech was cruel to the slaves he captured. I can''t believe someone that evil is my age."


    "Lamech was twisted by the world," said William. "I think he just decided to be what he was rather than fighting it."


    "Yes, well, it was a splendid fight," said Arkan.


    "Aren''t you going to lament your son?" asked Oresa, concerned.


    "Lamech wouldn''t want me to," said Arkan. "Our arrangement was master and apprentice, a Sathri concept. He viewed me as a valuable resource and someone he could learn from. His status as my adopted son was insurance; he couldn''t inherit if he murdered me.


    "It was also a penance.


    "My Father was a great sea captain and was Admiral before me. However, over time, he went mad and one day went after myself and my Mother. He was drunk, traumatized, and beyond reason. To defend her, I slew him with a knife and dedicated my life to restoring my homeland.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    "I asked the gods how to purify myself of sin.


    "They told me to adopt a Blackguard as my own. Lamech was an excellent subordinate, but it was ultimately him or me. And he might still be alive, so I don''t intend to get sentimental."


    "Kata?" asked William, noting her eyes on him. She had tied her hair above her head and wore red garments like Farasa''s. They seemed to be cut the same, only more concealing.


    "...I''ve never seen you without armor. You look nice," said Kata.


    "Are you sure you have no ill will?" asked William suddenly.


    "We''ve already killed more than our fair share of Harlenorians," said Kata. "We both seem to be dying people anyway."


    Dying peoples? Perhaps that was why Jehair had been so keen to take advantage. They were dying people.


    "Not anymore," said William. "The worst has been averted."


    "Well, all our people got home, amazingly," said Kata. "I guess we lucked out. Unfortunately, many of us were killed after Tanith and Father attacked Lord Kern."


    "I liked it," said Sokar.


    "I know you liked it, Sokar," said Kata. "I didn''t. Helping find places to ambush and kill people is not my fun idea."


    "William, about Neral Dinis?" asked Sokar. "How did he strike you?"


    "Reasonable," said William. "But dangerous, and I should be cautious about meeting with him. I met him when he was backed into a corner. In a position of power, I cannot say."


    "There''s been talk of raising shrines to him," said Sokar. "I know you hate undead, but we have a history. To us, he seems like the hero, almost a benefactor."


    "Well, opening a dialogue is a good idea," said Arkan quickly. "If Neral Dinis acknowledges you as an equal or even a lesser power, it would be a powerful piece. By doing so, you ensure King Osrif has real credibility. No one can just walk in.


    "You also might relearn some of your old ways.


    "But there is a cost to everything. I have no idea what it might be, but you''ll have to pay it sooner or later."


    "We know that now," said Sokar.


    "House Telus is closer to you and a longtime friend of House Gabriel," said Amenos to William. "It would be better to think of how to convince them to remain hand in hand with you. They have the potential for a real military alliance."


    "I''m heading there, actually," said Tavish.


    "Why?" asked William.


    "Edmund Telus has many debts he has to repay due to the wars," said Tavish. "I plan to offer to pay them off as a dowry in exchange for your friend Tanith."


    "What?!" said William.


    "What?" said Tavish. "She''s beautiful, strong, a valuable asset, and I got on well with her. You''ll probably have to aim higher to rise in power. If I can marry her, that nets me a connection to House Telus and gets me into the nobility."


    "Why to tell me?" said William, wondering if he should kill Tavish now. But, no, Tanith would want to do that herself.


    "So there won''t be any nasty surprises, obviously," said Tavish. "This is a common courtesy, so you know now."


    William considered the possible results of this course of action. "You have my permission to try. But I don''t think you have a chance. Lord Edmund is a very influential man and likely has high hopes for marriage."


    "Well, either way," said Tavish. "The money could be used to get me back some goodwill."


    "Where will you get the money?" asked William.


    "I already have it," said Tavish. "Here. Unlike Arkan, I hid most of my stuff in Haldren, somewhere nobody goes.


    "It''s just a ways off.


    "The problem is transport. I need someone to move it all out to Edmund Telus and ensure it isn''t stolen. I had planned to use Lamech and Arkan for manual labor and offer them a cut."


    "Why did you need me?" asked Oresa, blinking.


    "Pure impulse," said Arkan. "We thought we might be able to bargain with you for something, but we couldn''t, so the plan is cut for now.


    "Although you did lure William here and get Lamech killed. So that''s something."


    "Oh," said Oresa in disappointment. "Why are my kidnappings never about me? I really feel like a Princess like myself ought to be kidnapped for my beauty. It was as if a passing knight was dazzled by my presence, seized me up in his arms, and took me away.


    "And my hero followed, and they dueled in single combat, and the hero smote the evil knight down! Ah, wait, he''s got a crossbow-"


    Tavish whacked her upside the head.


    "Ow," said Oresa, rubbing her forehead with an eye closed in a vaguely cute manner. "That''s not very nice."


    At that moment, Isamu rushed into sight with his comrades. Their weapons were out, and they were ready for blood. "Alright, you son of a bitch!


    "Where is Oresa! I''ll slaughter you all! I''ll take all of you at once!"


    "Oh, Isamu, you''re here," said Oresa. "Um, it was a big misunderstanding, and everything worked out. But now we need to help avert a war by helping Tavish pay off someone else''s debts."


    "What war? What are you talking about?" asked Urus.


    Oresa explained.


    "How will that avert a war?" asked Isamu. It was not raining anymore, having slackened off.


    "Gavin is likely to try and convince House Telus to defect using debt forgiveness," said Urus. "If those debts are paid, the alliance stands. If they remain unpaid, House Gabriel is incentivized to begin a full-blown offensive."


    "I''ve got more than enough treasure to pay for it," said Tavish. "And nothing better to do with it."


    "We''ll help if you give us a cut," said Sokar. "We''re going to need money."


    "That''s alright," said Tavish. "Some of Telus'' debts are owed to you. Furbearer sewing patterns are quite popular, you know."


    "Fine, then let''s get to work," said Sokar. "But this clears any ill-will between us. And we share in the credit for handing in the money.


    "No more vendettas." William was inclined to ask why Sokar felt he had to clear ill will with Tavish. If anything, it seemed the other way around. Then again, Tavish was more robust.


    "Understood," said Tavish.


    "Isamu, Urus, Cadas," said Orsea. "Can you help them?"


    "Well, first, I''d like to see the paperwork for these debts," said Amenos. "Do you have it?"


    Tavish drew out a book. "Of course. I managed to copy most of earlier."


    William looked at it carefully after Amenos finished. They made sense based on what he knew. William halted. "You''ve thought this through."


    "Edmund and Father are old rivals," said Tavish. "Stopping the rivalry serves the King and Father and gives me an in."


    "Many of these men are dead. They were killed working with Cirithil," said William.


    "The money is still owed to their family," said Tavish. "Lord Edmund had to take a lot of loans to entertain guests of import. Vanion dodged those by always being off on campaign."


    "Amenos?" asked William.


    "I agree with your assessment," said Amenos. "As Rusara''s representative, I believe this is more than workable."


    Amenos would know. Which was good. Without a good advisor, William would have gone straight to violence. You only made this kind of deal by consulting someone who knew what they were doing.


    "I can represent Antion in this," said Arkan. "It should redeem my standing enough to halt Korlac. And also make the stalemate even more even-handed.


    "Brooking a real peace while inadvertently sabotaging Gavin will go over well."


    "Good. Let''s get to it," said William.


    Tavish led them out as the rain fell away to reveal bright skies. Retrieving some hidden shovels and others, they began to dig. Deeper and deeper they went until, eventually, they delved into it. Finding it open, there was a huge chest. Unlocking it with a key on the ground, Tavish opened it to reveal a chest of pure gold.


    Tavish smiled. The sheer volume of it amazed William, and a sense of euphoria overtook him. It glowed and sparkled in the sunlight, and he wondered how much it was.


    "That''s a lot of money," said Isamu.


    "Part of my fortune," said Tavish. "Most is invested in businesses in Antion. Perfectly legal."


    "How did you keep this secret?" asked William. "You couldn''t have carried it all here yourself. And Arkan and Lamech couldn''t be with you all the time."


    "I gave the men who came with me a sword each," said Tavish. "And we agreed to kill eachother until only one was left. Then, since I was a child, I waited on the sidelines while they hacked one another up. Then I stabbed the last one as he bled out.


    "I buried them in a grave we all dug together before the match."


    "That''s grim," said Isamu.


    "It worked, didn''t it," said Tavish. "No witnesses. Let''s just grab the handholds and take turns. One from each party at a time. We''ve got a long way to go.


    "William, I need you to handle negotiations."


    It took a lot less labor than expected to get the money out. William, on his own, would have had trouble. But Isamu had immense strength like nothing he''d ever seen, and together, they easily pulled it out. Steel poles were already lying near it, and these Tavish slid through iron rings on the chest.


    Four of them, at any one time, held it on their shoulders. Together, they marched toward the domain of the Furbearers. When some became tired, they switched bearers to make good time. The ground was rocky, but Kata and Sokar knew the best paths, so they avoided serious problems and went on.


    William had always heard the domain of the Furbearers was covered in ice. But it was fading out by now. The treasure was heavy, but the land seemed to speed them on their way. The ground seemed to fly by beneath their feet.


    "I was originally planning for Lamech and me to move this," said Tavish. "This works out better. He''s stronger, of course, but not someone you can trust fully."


    "It''ll get worse once we cross the river. We''ll take the main road," said Sokar. "We''re not doing this as thieves in the night."


    "I don''t know if anyone has thought of this," said Arkan. "But this is an ideal time to be taken, hostage. There are many notable names among us."


    "I will handle negotiations," said William. "And if anyone is foolish to try and seize this company, it will be the end of them. We''re well-armed and experienced soldiers."


    "He''s right, you know," said Oresa, who had not been expected to labor. "Isamu, Urus, and Cadas are powerful."


    Cadas proved a great asset to Isamu.


    They came at last to the river; William forgot the name. But he did remember the history as he led them forward. "Anoa stormed it early in his invasion, and there was a great battle. It was broken but remade with a drawbridge."


    The bridge crossed the river, but the drawbridge was up.


    "I know a good ford," said Sokar.


    "You would take this chest across the river?" asked William. "I''ve waded rivers before. It''ll be washed out to sea before the first step. And it''s high right now with all the snow.


    "We''ll go through." S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Moving to the edge, he approached the bridge guard with several armed men. Judging by the set hastily thrown to one side, they bore excellent armor and looked to have been playing dice. This did not strike William as befitting royal soldiers. "Hold where you are. This bridge is shut in case of Furbearer assault." His accent needed to be corrected.


    "The war is over," said Sokar. "And we are on a mission of peace."


    "Be that as it may," said the bridge guard, and his voice spoke as though William had given offense. The guard was clad in bright, gold-lined armor and violet garments. "Prince Aras has ordered that no one cross over this river." His posture was not that of a Harlenorian soldier. William had seen it in Ascorn before somewhere, however.


    Yet his face was white and pale, though the completion was a little too perfect.


    "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel," said William. "I am going to meet a friend of my Father, Lord Edmund Telus. My mission is urgent and of concern to all three Kingdoms."


    "I do not care if you are a God," said the guard. "King Gavin rules this country."


    "Is this done by the will of Edmund Telus?" asked William. "Perhaps you could send a message for me."


    "Edmund Telus will accept the mercy of Prince Aras," said the guard. "And you are of no concern." This was far too much of a caricature, as though he were pretending to be who he was.


    "With me are Princess Kata, Prince Sokar, a direct representative of Antion. There is also Princess Oresa of Calisha," said William. "Many respected names who have been of invaluable service. They seek to make a show of friendship with Edmund Telus.


    "Would your master insult all of them?"


    The guard laughed alongside his men. "Should a Prince concern himself with the whore children of brigands? That and a mere political servant and a barbarian bitch?" Far too aggressive, no royal guard would speak as such.


    "Will you allow me to represent my house in the negotiations?" asked William.


    "No," said the guard. "You''re little better than brigands already."


    "You realize that this side of the bridge is Furbearer territory," said William. "They are not yours to insult and harass."


    "Everyone is Prince Aras''s to insult and harass," said the guard.


    That was too much. These men were not royal guards.


    William turned away, about to suggest an alternative path. Then he considered the political implications and was turned back here. So instead, he drew his sword and smote him with the flat of his blade. They fell senseless to the ground around them.


    Isamu and Cadas rushed in and rapidly knocked out the other guards.


    William sighed. "Isamu, Urus, Cadas, can you swim?"


    "Yes," said Isamu. "I''ve been doing this a long time."


    "Get over that river and drop that gate," said William. "Don''t kill any if you can avoid it. And absolutely do not kill any wearing the colors of House Telus. Do what you want with these.


    "If you find Prince Aras, don''t lay hands on him. And don''t kill anyone."


    The group did, leaping into the river and swimming across. There was a sound of fighting and clashing and screams of agony. Promptly, the door dropped and slammed open, and they stepped over it. Isamu and his people were on the other side, and several men of Ran Telus were standing by.


    "Thank gods you''re here, milord," said a man. "Prince Aras''s men are all over the countryside. They''ve fanned out everywhere. They said he was coming as a guest but arrived with armed men.


    "Then orders were given that the area be sealed off."


    "I didn''t notice anything like that when Tanith and I came through?" said Kata.


    "Lady Telus came through?" asked the guard. "That can''t be.


    "Prince Aras has men watching for her."


    "She was likely wearing her armor," said William. "Did you speak to any guards?"


    "No," said Kata. "Just walked in this the ox carts like she owned the place. She exchanged a few words with the guards and walked off."


    "Enough," said Arkan. "What now?


    "Taking this treasure now is useless."


    "Let us leave it as bait," said Amenos. "Treasure attracts men far from home. Put it somewhere they can hear of it. Then, wait to see who arrives."


    "Sokar," said William. "Go back to your people and form them out here. Don''t cross the river. You men keep the gate open. Isamu, you and your companions will assist in the guarding. No aggressive moves, defend but nothing else.


    "Tavish, Arkan, keep the treasure here. You''re in charge if unity is needed."


    "Where did he get these men?" asked Arkan. "Gavin isn''t this ineffectual. And he''d never make this kind of move without first taking Gel Carn."


    "It hadn''t fallen when these arrived," said a man.


    "Babarassians," said Sokar, removing a helm.


    Silence. It was true; their face was tan like that of Sokar. How had they gotten in here?


    "Impossible," said a guard. "Their skin was as pale as ours a moment ago."


    But each helm revealed that some disguise had fallen away. And now they were looking at many dark-skinned men.


    "He must have hired some contingents of them and dressed them in royal colors," said Tavish. "The fool. You can''t control an organization just with money."


    "I wouldn''t know," said Arkan. "But I doubt the King had any part in this stunt. These men obviously do not understand royal decorum. No Harlenorian guard would ever mistreat so important a figure."


    "What about you, William?" asked Kata. "What about us?"


    "You, Oresa, and myself will go to the city directly," said William.


    "What?" said Kata. "How?"


    "Simple," said William. "We''ll say Arkan planned all this and that your brother and Oresa''s bodyguards betrayed you. Then, if they think we''re desperate, they''ll want to use us."


    "Gavin can''t possibly be this stupid," said Arkan. "Neither could his son."


    "We''ll find out soon enough," said William. "Remember;


    "No attacks. If they press you, draw out beyond the river and keep them here."


    "What if they invade us?" asked Sokar.


    "Well then, that''s not my decision, is it," said William. "But I do not think for a moment these men are working for King Gavin. It is likely someone else, perhaps someone beneath notice, who can hire them.


    "Creeping into his shadow, if you will."


    "I hope so," said Arkan. "If not, we''re about to have a civil war."


    William sincerely doubted that. He felt such a conflict would end quickly with Arkan hanging from a noose.

 Chapter Forty: The Last Gambit

    Ansara was trying to pray.


    The darkness of the temple was broken only by a single light. The tomb of her ancestor, Andoa I, stood before her. She wondered what he would have thought of her. Very little, probably, Andoa; I had been a noble warrior with no interest in peace. He had battled with Baras, the ancient Dren warrior, for six years. Theirs had been a long rivalry with many tales of other heroes around them.


    In so doing, he had long drawn off the Calishan''s hand. But with the coming of the Viokins, he was forced to withdraw. Baras died of a disease that even now raged throughout her Kingdom. Andoa himself died slaying a great minotaur chieftain in single combat. After that, Sorn had broken away for good, and no one had ever reclaimed it.


    He''d won the battle, but his traitorous enemies had swarmed him to death in his exhaustion. Enraged, his army had slain them all and allied with Calishans. Andoa II, her grandfather, had been great in peace and war. Raised as a ward by elves, he claimed the throne because all but one of his brothers was dead. From there, he''d made peace with all his neighbors and done much to repair relations.


    Information and wisdom had been exchanged between them. Antion was more beautiful than ever, reflecting the nation''s soul. The population had swelled, and empty lands had been filled in. Estal had become a Harlenorian colony and stood as a bulwark against invasion by sea. The minotaur''s bloodlust had been broken, and his visits made them civilized. The people were raised up and given prosperity like never before. Peace had reigned with the Sornian colonies, and they had been recognized.


    Andoa II had preferred to think of them as friends rather than subjects. Everyone liked him and met him. They''d felt at ease.


    Now, all but the minotaurs had betrayed them. The nobility had turned on one another; the people were enslaved to one brutal faction or another. The elves had used Andoa''s kindness as an opening to destroy his Kingdom as he lay on his deathbed. And yet, even here, a single letter through Marn had engineered their downfall.


    They had gained nothing by their treachery but blood and lost reputation. And Grandfather still lived. Jehair was in transfer as a prisoner and could be interrogated to gain the names of everyone she knew. Combined with Lamech''s testimony, Ansara could send every one of them to the gallows.


    Every elf, every human, every dwarf, and undead, from this world or any other.


    Ansara would hang them all for their betrayal. And Korlac would be here means to do so.


    A political arrangement with House Gabriel at this point was logical. Her personal desires did not matter. Marrying William Gabriel would strengthen the crown and give them legitimacy. Artarq could become a permenant royal province. The other nobles would be brought into line.


    Rius'' death would ensure they would be on their toes.


    The reports of the werewolves joining the force were good. John Korlac would give them instructions. Werewolves had tunnel vision and obsessed over their goal at any one time. If they were to be given the task of enforcing the law...


    What police they would make. They could smell emotions and people, sometimes even after rainfall. Full moons weren''t common, even if they changed during a full moon. So they could easily gather evidence and give it to legitimate police officers.


    The werewolves would not be allowed to make arrests outside of Blackfear.


    But drinking the blood of condemned prisoners? That would cut down on murders and put them to good use. It was apparent why Grandfather had chosen William as his agent. He was intelligent, charismatic, and a hero. But not the kind of hero who followed orders, broke orders, or kicked in doors. His primary concern was solving the problem of the plague.


    Yet this had allowed him to converse with every part of society and observe them. Ansara would speak to Lord Dunmoore about reorganizing the Paladins to do more of that. The epoch of shining mail and hitting one another with swords was waning. Another task must be found for the Paladins.


    Do oaths not involve themselves in local politics? Save to defend the King''s authority? That would ease the trouble of the nobility. It would prevent another Healer''s Guild fiasco. Yes, this could work.


    Ansara stood up.


    She was curious to know if she had communicated with her ancestors. And she needed to find out if her prayers had reached anyone. Even so, by praying, she had composed herself and could turn to the doors and walk toward them. There was a knock before she arrived, which meant Spinal was there.


    Could she trust him?


    It didn''t matter. He was her only source of physical power; without him, she would have been a prisoner. Indeed, he seemed serious about wiping out the corrupt forces here. But it was apparent he had other considerations. Ansara was less a benefactor and more an ally to some other purpose.


    Whatever it was, it did not matter.


    What did people do when they were not prisoners in their own homes?


    Drink with friends?


    Ansara never drank, let alone with servant girls. She pretended to be friends, but she wasn''t. "I''m sorry to interrupt your meditations, Princess Ansara," said Spinal, entering the room. He shut the door. He moved away from it. The temple was the one place that could not be magically observed. The Gods would never allow someone to corrupt it. "But we have Jehair.


    "Sir John Korlac shifted her to the dungeon on your behalf. However, he believes hanging or imprisoning her could cause problems."


    "Good," said Ansara, standing up. What did other people feel when they prayed? Did they say things? "Arkan has lost most of his money and has gone to Haldren, and his subordinates are scattered. Cirithil is insane, so he can''t take his place."


    "Actually, Cirithil will make a miraculous recovery," said Spinal.


    What?


    Ansara turned around incredulously.


    "Impossible," said Ansara. "I saw him myself when he came in. He was a raving lunatic, screeching like an animal. He''s not a good enough actor to fake that. Even if he was, he''d have dropped the guise long after Coalmarsh led him off by a leash.


    "You can''t shrug off madness."


    "You can with a supernatural backer," said Spinal. "Someone strong enough Elranor wouldn''t want to contest power with. Either that or someone willing to cut a deal with Elranor on his behalf. Or Elranor himself.


    "But no one I know would pull strings for him," said Ansara. "Cirithil was a useful idiot."


    "You''d be surprised what people can say and what effect that can have," said Spinal. "He might have been an idiot, but he''s an idiot that the Demoration has poured all its investments through. They absolutely need him, or they will lose all the contacts they have for their money.


    "He was the only person willing to do a deal with them, and if he dies, they lose everything."


    "So let them," said Ansara. "I don''t care about their losses."


    "As much as I''d love to," said Spinal. "My organization needs Cirithil. Or we risk throwing down the gauntlet with the Demoration. And so do you. Who is going to negotiate with the bishops about fighting the plague?


    "Some random temple maiden who exists to talk about art? Cirithil is the only person who can command the bishops. If he''s sane, we can force him to do his job at swordpoint. But, if he''s a dribbling idiot, there''s no one to organize the church.


    "And since Atravain has been enslaving priests and setting up her cults, you might not have a church in a bit. So Caskav has sent in demands to Prince Bor to mediate.


    "Whether you like it or not, you''re stuck with the church, and we need it. You can always have his throat slit after he outlives his usefulness. Besides, aren''t ''heroes'' obligated to show mercy."


    Father was being called to mediate by Lord Caskav? This was wonderful; it meant the crown was gaining back power. "This is my Father''s orders?"


    "Yeah," said Spinal. "But you didn''t hear that from me."


    Ansara would check with him herself. "What is your organization doing here?"


    "This is a sideshow for us," said Spinal. "Our goal is further east. And they want a favorable government in Antion when they finish it. The Demoration has specific regulations we have to break to operate. They look the other way while we move between worlds.


    "In exchange, we must help look after some of their interests. So we rub shoulders with the Sorcerer''s Guild and Magicora."


    Spinal was trying to distract. Where were they operated from, this organization?


    Ansara had to be taken seriously.


    "You''re operating in the Kalthak region?" asked Ansara. "King Abdul Sahshir?" It was the most rational assessment. All other areas in Calisha were stable; Dinis had an Emperor. And anywhere further east would have no fear of Antion.


    "His land has agents in it," said Spinal. "However, he wasn''t part of the plan.


    "He forced his way into it by accident and was such a good warrior they had to change things to account for him. He might be an asset or a serious enemy. Or he might be nothing.


    "It all depends on the coming war in the Islands of Power and if he''s involved. But he has enough connections to cause serious problems."


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    "Is he loyal to Baltoth?" asked Ansara.


    "Sahshir is a zealot," said Spinal. "Zealots believe their own lies. The only question is what they apply those lies to. Sooner or later, his vision of reality will conflict with reality.


    "At that point, he has to change reality or be destroyed by it."


    "...How good is he?" asked Ansara.


    "Very," said Spinal. "He successfully orchestrated the defection of half of Zigilus'' population. He fought off an army of monsters and the legions of Dinis without only a minor militia. Then, he wounded two gods in single combat. Finally, he stood before Zigildrazia and was unaffected.


    "And that is his first battle."


    "This has to be a myth," said Ansara.


    "It is both," said Spinal.


    "Who do you want to win the coming showdown between Dinis and Sorn?" asked Sorn.


    "Calisha," said Spinal. "We need the country intact for what we have planned." He paused. "Now, Jehair has not written her obituary. She isn''t cooperating. Torture is useless for gathering information, so I haven''t bothered."


    "Father doesn''t even keep such implements," said Ansara. "But it doesn''t matter.


    "If Korlac believes we can''t hold her, that''s it."


    "You''re not serious," said Spinal.


    "John Korlac is the most merciless hanging judge in history," said Ansara. "Only Lord Arthur was ever able to bring out his merciful side. If he says someone cannot be prosecuted, you should believe him. Jehair is well-liked and popular with a lot of influential people. "Executing her would cause a significant disturbance.


    "At best, we can ask her to sell out her friends. And she knows that much; otherwise, Korlac would have taken care of her personally."


    Silence.


    "May I suggest a strategy?" asked Spinal.


    "Doesn''t seem like I have many to choose from," said Ansara. "Father has no doubt already made one."


    "The Urishia have an ancient tactic," said Spinal. "When you have the means to destroy a man when he is off guard, but you''re at war, you make peace. First, you deal him a moderate defeat and gain some ground. Then feigning weakness, you let him restore his old strength. The reason you do this is that his guard is up.


    "If you continue to push your advantage, he''ll fight to the bitter end, and you will take losses. Some of his men will escape and flee elsewhere to gather strength.


    "So, you let him think the danger is past and gone. Let them become accustomed to normality and rise in rank. Our enemies should believe this unfortunate fluke has allowed them to grow in power. Several corrupt officials are executed. Now, a new group of corrupt officials can have their day in the sun.


    "Korlac will be shut down again and contained.


    "The books should be kept, but action should be taken once they think all is forgotten, if they know at all. Then, let someone use the information to shake down a few enemies and become King of the Underworld. We must make them think everyone is just as corrupt as they are.


    "Let them think everyone is just as corrupt as they are. If everyone is in on it, no one will take action. And then make them believe House Korlac is your enemy. You are afraid of them and House Gabriel and hanging on to power through corruption.


    "Of course, you have means of communication, so the nobility will know this is untrue. Vanion''s crystal balls allow most major players to communicate in an emergency."


    "What about the common people?" asked Ansara.


    "The common people will want a return to stability," said Spinal. "So give it to them.


    "Let there be organized crime. Do the absolute bare minimum to keep them in check. Change only what you can without alienating the criminals. The ordinary people wanted organized crime and let these people do this to them.


    "So give them what they wanted. Give them the reward they have been seeking.


    "Let them live with the reality of their actions. As we shall dub this, the Road of Chaos incident will be all for nothing. Everyone who died will have died for nothing, and a new group of criminals will take the old one''s place. Then, we can return the same people to your council, Arkan, Lamech, Tavish, Marn, and the rest.


    "A complete reset, as though it never even happened.


    "The criminals will believe what they want to believe. They will think they are here to stay; they can do whatever they want. So they''ll drop the mask and show who they really are because they believe they have been accepted.


    "I can use my abilities. Spread a few mistruths about how the criminals show who they are, and they''ll follow suit.


    "A few years of that, and no one will tolerate it. You must remain completely silent and focused on foreign matters. Retrain some militia and make a few minor changes.


    "The nobility will look after their own matters.


    "And then, when the populace can no longer bear it..."


    "We unleash the dogs of law," said Ansara. "And hang them all."


    "Right," said Spinal. "Moving now will only gain you back a small amount of territory. The criminal groups will call in more money from Bretus and Escor. That and other Demoration worlds. There are infinite brutal thugs in the universe if you have a portal. And right now, the people backing those criminals are afraid.


    "At best, you''ll be a constant distraction. At worst, you could be assassinated.


    "So move your focus toward foreign conflict. You can put your total effort into that while finding out who is providing all their funding. Learn who your enemies are and devise a plan to deal with them.


    "And then, when they are confident nothing can go wrong, murder them all.


    "Down to the last thief. No survivors.


    "Sending a clear message here will avenge the humiliation. It will be good for you and your associates."


    "Does this have to do with the Heir of Kings," asked Ansara.


    "There are many Heirs of Kings," said Spinal with a shrug. "Prophecies can be interpreted in a lot of ways. They are like lies; they have only as much truth as you make them have. Nevertheless, it will come true in some form, provided it is still remembered.


    "However, if I were you, I would focus on how you can benefit from the prophecy and how to avoid being in the way. If you can''t, just speed it along as fast as possible and hope it goes away."


    "It doesn''t even matter at this point," said Ansara. "This is Father''s decision. He may have a completely different strategy. And I will not be consulting it with you."


    "That is wise," said Spinal. "...I don''t think you even need Jehair.


    "Yes, she could speed things along. But she''s devoted to the cause, and many people like her. It might be wise to get an oath from her not to attack Antion again and release her. Larxe alone should be able to verify most of what she could say.


    "And Larxe is your enemy in this particular lie."


    Ansara nodded. "I will bring it up when I next see my Father.


    "Can you get me a meeting with him?"


    "Yes," said Spinal. "But that''s going to take some effort."


    "I will meet Jehair, then," said Ansara.


    Ansara departed and walked again through the halls where the guards had shifted out. Father had taken the opportunity to kill off many of Arkan''s loyalists. Ansara didn''t know whether the men were loyal to her or him. But she wasn''t in a position to ask.


    So she made her down a flight of steps to the same dungeon. Again, a guard waited for her, a new arrival.


    "Princess Ansara?" asked the guard.


    "Open the door," said Ansara.


    "Yes, ma''am," said the guard.


    Ansara halted. "Has anyone come through here?"


    "I am forbidden to speak on that subject from the highest levels," said the guard.


    Not Spinal, then. So either Father, one of Spinal''s benefactors, or someone else. It hardly mattered at this point.


    Moving up to the cell, she found Jehair sitting cross-legged. Once, Ansara met Jehair when she was young with high hopes and big dreams. Jehair had promptly ripped all those dreams to shreds with a few polite statements. Now the beautiful elf looked younger than she had then; her hair had gone gold.


    "You return, child," said Jehair, opening her eyes.


    Ansara looked at her. "Has anyone come to meet you here before me?"


    "Your Father," said Jehair. "He told me my fate was to be in your hands.


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    "It''s true, milady," said the guard.


    Father must have made all the same calculations by himself. But unlike Father, Ansara could afford to discredit herself. She could look ridiculous and not destroy the monarchy.


    But Ansara wasn''t feeling ridiculous now.


    Why would Father give her this kind of call? Well, it didn''t matter. She hadn''t hung Lamech, and he deserved far worse.


    "I''m going to release you," said Ansara simply. "I will release you because you gave me useful information if it gets out. My entire family could be murdered." Then, one of the guards gasped, and some looked at the others. "I''d love to stop the criminals that have kept me a prisoner here with your help.


    "But this insanity could destroy Antion. And while Antion would win Father, Grandfather, and I would all be murdered. That would be long before the liberating army got here. And the Demoration or Bretus would use it as a pretense to invade."


    "I''m sorry that reality offends you, girl," said Jehair.


    "At least I did something," said Ansara. "Even if I was trapped in this place, I tried to change it.


    "You could have done anything. But all you did was pretend to be people''s friends while feeding them the flowers."


    "I simply helped them decide they wanted to," said Jehair.


    "Spare me," said Ansara. "At least Lamech is openly evil. I let him go because I knew he''d slaughter many people during his escape. But you let others think you are good.


    All so you can lead them to their end. I can''t help but notice that the most heroic people in this place revile you. Frederick has always hated you every time you met.


    "That''s why William had you arrested.


    "You thought you could pass off responsibility for your atrocities. You were going to use Neral Dinis as a scapegoat. But your best behavior couldn''t hide your nature, and William must have understood it. All he had to do was keep trying to be a hero, and he uncovered your part.


    "You were so deluded.


    "You thought you could pin it all on Neral Dinis and overthrow him using elven mercenaries. But, simultaneously, a plague would consume the heartlands and spread into Ascor. The nobility would lose all credibility, and Cirithil would gain greater prominence.


    "If it had worked, the Empire of Qor''Dana would be refunded to cheering crowds. Ready to be shackled anew.


    "And if anyone suspected what you had done...


    "They''d be in no position to refuse your help. And it isn''t as though any of it could be directly traced back to you. Instead, your part in it was like nature itself. A mere background element that nudged things in the right direction.


    "Well, it didn''t work. And pretty soon, everyone will know why."


    "You see much more than you pretend," said Jehair with a shrug. "I knew exactly what William was doing from the start. I chose to walk with him anyway."


    Ansara paused. Had she known? "If so, why walk with him?"


    "Well, I could not assassinate or abandon one of the few people who tried to understand me," said Jehair. "His feelings for Antion and mine were completely alike. The difference is that William is interested in making humanity strong. I am interested in making the land strong."


    "The land?" asked Ansara.


    "I am a druid," said Jehair. "There are too many people in this land, and the ground cries out under their feet. Most of them are terrible people. Since Antion wanted to spiral into oblivion, I helped it get what it wanted.


    "I''m not interested in the survival of nations, only the lands they ruin. It took ages for the land to recover from the God War and Anoa the Bright. King Andoa''s foreign policy has seen the number of humans increase.


    "You are starting to become a threat to the land.


    "Thus, the Flower Maiden bade me take action. I helped to give the right people what they wanted to create a crisis. One that would cut the population of Antion substantially. I should note that slavery is likely to be abolished because of this. And much progress has been made.


    "But the truth is, I was unimportant. Like William, I was a supporting character in many other stories. Most people I worked with would have done the same thing. I just gave them a chance to do it more cleanly.


    "Tavish Kern, in particular, I helped set up his outposts. His operation would only have succeeded with me. Ansara, if you''re looking for some dark villain, there is none. I designated Neral Dinis as such because I hated him for killing a friend of mine. I offered Queen Dawn the chance to move in because she wanted that.


    "But she might have figured out a way anyway. And Sen Kaba was looking to make a sale of weapons already. I just made it, so he made more money doing it. Small differences?


    "Perhaps.


    "Important? Maybe so.


    "But if you wish me to write down names for mass execution, I will not. That would be a violation of my client''s privileges."


    "Get away from me, animal!" said Ansara in disgust. "How many people have already died? People with memories, hopes, and dreams? If you''d tried to convince people to live in harmony with nature. Or do less damage; this wouldn''t have happened!


    "What if you had tried to be good?!"


    "Even if I was good," said Jehair. "Sentient races grow exponentially.


    "The fewer there are, the less they can grow. A garden needs weeding, and rot has to be cut out. I limited my targets to the worst humanity had to offer. This would never have happened if Antion had made a concerted effort to root them out. If you call upon others to do your work for you, you will get a solution you don''t like.


    "Kafka made an admirable effort, and Vanion did foil the worst of their plans. But frankly, I''m extremely unimpressed with the Golden City."


    "Open the cell," said Ansara. "Let her out.


    "Asking her for an oath would be useless. Who would ever give any credit to what she has to say?"


    "I''ve never lied to anyone," said Jehair with a shrug.


    "We can''t let her go," said the guard.


    "My Father doesn''t have the manpower to drive the criminal element out of Antion," said Ansara. "The criminals are panicked. But they''ll kill us all if she is still in prison when they recover.


    "Names are useless if we can''t enforce them." She paused as the door was opened. "Think yourself lucky to escape another flogging, Jehair; now get out of my city! And make sure you give her all her effects first!"


    "As you wish," said Jehair. "You have my sympathies for my troubles. Gods protect you." Then she departed without a word, escorted by armed guards.


    "They can''t be allowed to get away with this," said a guard as Ansara walked out. "The Royal Family prisoners."


    Ansara stopped. "Guard... what did my Father say when he was here? To her, I mean."


    The guards looked. "He just looked at Jehair.


    "She flinched back in fear, and then he left. We didn''t understand it then. It must have been some exchange. Prince Bor sees more than lesser men."


    And Ansara left in disgust, walking back to that office where she''d stored the names. It was a mournful silence she felt as she walked through the palace. Everyone felt it, even the guards.


    Back in that same office, which she came to almost without thinking, she found her Father. He was leaning back in his chair as though he had been resting. His cloak was about him as if returning from a journey. Yet his gaze was sad, and many books were laid about him.


    All the writings of Lamech.


    Bor looked up sadly, a volume in tired hands. "My child...


    "I hold a book that could destroy a thousand nations. There will come a time to use it. But not yet."


    Ansara cried and wrapped her arms around him. And Father held her, as he had not in years, and for a moment, everything was alright.


    The vengeance of the crown beckoned.


    But for a time, it was not so pressing.

 Chapter Forty-One: Carn Gable

    The journey north was met by snow and wind, as was common in these parts. It was like coming home for Tanith, who had lived here for years.


    Several times, Tanith and Atria halted to take shelter in farmsteads. Here Tanith kept a keen eye on Atria and slept with her blade nearby. While also polite to the farmers and paying them for their trouble. However, no dagger was ever put into her, and things became dull. Eventually, they moved onward until they came to Gel Carn.


    Tanith had come far and through many adventures to come back here. And now she loved the very sight of it. The skull-engraved walls are cast with dark magic. The stout towers rose high with black stone and mortar. The fridged surroundings and wind tore at them.


    This was the kind of place where a great warrior ought to reside.


    It was sad that it was no longer the capital of Duke Vanion''s Empire.


    "Carn Gable at last," said Atria. "This is the first time I have seen your home, Mistress."


    "Yes, it is," said Tanith. "I was expecting you to try and kill me."


    "Why would I do that? My full purpose in life is to serve you," said Atria.


    Tanith could respect that. "You don''t have any lingering loyalties to Calisha or your family?"


    "I am no longer of Baltoth," said Atria. "My powers were taken from me after I fled from you into the temple. Nevertheless, a Priestess of Baltoth must fight, and you struck fear into my heart that turned to love.


    "Baltoth has always commanded that slaves submit to their masters." Didn''t she have any pride


    Tanith did not like the false adoration she had convinced her to hold her in. "...Love someone else. I need you, not love.


    "Let''s go."


    Atria nodded and became a bit more professional.


    But when Tanith got to the gates, she felt a wave of foreboding, and she knew why. The gates were unbarred and wide open, and the guards were waiting. As if expecting to be relieved. "You, what''s going on up here? Why is the gate open?"


    "Lady Telus, King Gavin is en route with an army. We had been about to yield to him," said the guard.


    "None of that! Send word to the villages!" said Tanith. "Tell them to raise their arms to defend the castle. Pull supplies into the fortress and prepare for a siege!" She pointed to Atria. "You, send word to Ran Telus, tell them what has happened at once. Then, Anborn, take a spear and stand at the gate. We must prepare to defend Gel Carn with our lives."


    "But the King-" began Anborn.


    "If the King attacks us, then we must defend House Gabriel," said Tanith. "You swore an oath like everyone, and now you must fulfill it!


    "Prepare for war!" Then she halted and took Atria by the shoulder, surprised. "Don''t you want to go back to your family?"


    "Would they have me?" asked Atria.


    Tanith nodded and sent her off.


    Moving into Gel Carn, she felt alive again as she rallied the men and stocked supplies. The garrison had become a bit lax but otherwise had held strong. So that when the King arrived, they found them ready.


    A large force moved toward them, clad in mail, and at the head was the King and Gail Arengeth. The gates were shut by Anborn, who stood beside Tanith on the wall. Were they going to fight a defensive siege? Tanith had always wanted to fight on a wall before unending hordes.


    She''d hoped to do it in Gel Carn, but this would do. Tanith stood and called down. "Who here will treat me?


    "Not you, Arengeth. You''re not even a man, let alone a Harlenorian."


    "We have not come to treat with you, Tanith," said Arengeth. "We have come to lay claim to that which Duke Vanion has long left vacant. Therefore, open the gates and do not force there to be more blood than there has been already."


    Tanith looked down. "You really think you''ll get away with this, don''t you?


    "You actually think you''re going to be able to pin all this on us?


    "Oh, you''ll do very well out of it. The Furbearers will have their homes destroyed. Their lands were plundered, and their suffering was disregarded on your orders. So then you can just put the blame on House Gabriel and put Humer in charge of Carn Gable?


    "Well, it won''t work.


    "If you try to storm this castle, I''ll kill every one of your men, and then I''ll kill you. Everyone up here has been wronged by King Gavin; he''s all but made war on his own people. And once you''re dead, Tavish won''t have anything to play Father off.


    "A King who betrays his own country is replaceable."


    The harsh statement surprised them. Gail Arengeth seemed about to declare the country under siege.


    "Hold on a moment, Arengeth," said Gavin, coming forward. And he did not look old at all. He had curly black hair and was fair-skinned. "Explain what you mean by that, Commander? It has been reported that House Gabriel has engineered strife through Harlenor."


    "By who?" asked Tanith.


    "Many different sources, each one reliable in their own way," said King Gavin.


    "Well, they''re wrong," said Tanith. "We''ve spent the past few weeks scrambling all over those places, trying to rein in a plague. That and civil war and a criminal network House Kern created.


    "To say nothing of Arkan Lantan and others."


    "Messengers from Ran Telus inform us that Arkan Lantan recently seized the ford. They killed royal troops," said King Gavin. "Among them was House Gabriel."


    "I don''t believe it," said Tanith. "Unless there has been a switching of sides. Antion was in complete chaos when William arrived. Tavish Kern held a position of authority, and the guard had gone lax.


    "It may be that William has been forced to cooperate with them. Or Arkan Lantan was not the main enemy. As for the ford, I might ask why it was held against House Gabriel? William is an old friend and does not love violence as I do.


    "He would never have launched such an assault. Not unless he perceived either betrayal or that my own land was held against me."


    Silence.


    "Then why did you enslave the Furbearers?" asked Gavin.


    Tanith halted. "We didn''t. Or they didn''t; I''m not part of House Gabriel; I''m an ally who was in the right place and time."


    "Merrin," said Gavin. "If you would."


    Merrin came forward; he was a blonde-haired younger friend of the Kings. He wore a green cloak and drew out a scroll. "I have here reports that the son of Edmund Telus, Anborn, has set up a slaving operation. One that sprang up in the wake of House Kern''s conflict with the Furbearers. After they drove them to the sea, Babarassians set up colonies in their territory."


    "But Lord Kern said you authorized that," said Tanith.


    Silence.


    "...It would seem that there is a great deal we have not told one another," said Gavin. "Will you come down?"


    "I can''t," said Tanith. "I''m the only commanding officer in this place. If I go down, there won''t be anyone to hold it if I''m arrested."


    "I give you the promise of safe passage," said Gavin.


    "With respect, King Gavin, our trust in the rules of hospitality is exhausted," said Tanith. "A good man and King in your position could invite me out to arrest me because a decisive end had to be made.


    "Depending on what you believe, I could be a total monster who has lost the protection of the law."


    "No one is out of the protection of the law," said Gavin.


    "Yes, but you are the law," said Tanith. "You have the authority to arrest anyone; the only check on that power is if you can do it. So if I open these gates, I''m surrendering."


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    "Well, we can''t just sit out here on the doorstep yelling up and down," said Gavin with a sigh. "Perhaps I could go up."


    "Your majesty, the inverse applies here," said Gail Arengeth. "If they took you hostage, it would be disastrous. And Tanith Telus has a reputation for violence that cannot be wholly ignored. She strikes a better character than when last I saw her, but she lives for war." S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "So neither of us can trust one another because we can''t communicate," said Merrin. "And we can''t communicate because we can''t get close enough to talk. But we can''t get close enough to talk because we can''t trust one another.


    "This is brilliant."


    At that moment, a shadow landed quite silently. Tanith knew by the shadow and turned around to see the vast figure of Auga perched on a tower. Her wings stretched outward, and the men quilled. But Gavin drew his sword and steadied them, face composed. "Calm yourselves and spread out.


    "Ready bows and mark shelter, but loose no arrow without attack or command.


    "A dragon?"


    "The dragon who destroyed the Babarrassians," said Anborn.


    "Auga?" asked Tanith, feeling intimidated. Why was her hand shaking? "I uh...


    "I wasn''t aware you were-"


    "What''s the situation?" asked Auga, shifting into her normal form.


    "A complete impasse," said Tanith, yielding command. "King Gavin wishes to negotiate and clarify what has been going on. I came up here to head off an invasion."


    "Well then, we''ll just have to open the gates and let him in," said Auga.


    "You''re not serious," said Tanith.


    "I''m a dragon. They''ll be in an enclosed location if they are in here and start a fight," said Auga. "And this is my castle now anyway." She offered Tanith a scroll, and Tanith read it.


    "This is an authorization that Auga takes over command of Gel Carn," said Tanith. "I yield command at once."


    So the gates were opened, and Gavin came in with some guards. They looked well-experienced and were well-armed. They went inside, and Tanith sat down at a table she had not eaten at in a long time. She remembered better days with William and Felix and wished to relive them sometime.


    "Alright then, we can start things by explaining what happened," said Gavin.


    "Well, this a long and very complicated story," said Tanith. "So, it started when the Tournament of Kings was announced..."


    The story went on.


    And on.


    And on.


    And often, Gavin or Arengeth would reveal other aspects she hadn''t known. Among them are descriptions of reports from Lord Kern and Tavish of crisis. It meandered about from misery to misery, and the only real theme was that Harlenor was doomed.


    Tanith thought it made it all the better.


    There was no story greater than a battle against total destruction.


    "If what you say is true, then Lord Kern has been deceiving us for some time," said Gavin at last.


    "But he hasn''t been, Gavin," said Merrin, showing reports. "Look at this. All the information we wrote here is consistent with what they told us. For instance, Anborn is clearly listed as being in charge. This is correct; he was in charge unless everyone was lying.


    "The thing is, we last saw Anborn almost a decade ago. We knew he''d had bad luck with money, but plenty of competent people do. If Tavish thought he was an ineffectual fool. Putting him in a position of influence would be an excellent way to implicate House Gabriel."


    "Who is this Tavish Kern, though? I have never heard of him?" asked Gavin.


    "He is a bastard son of Lord Kern," said Merrin. "Very smart and very good with money. He''s been operating the organization intended to create your Sorcerer''s Guild. I knew he was an agent, but I was given to understand he was a mere contact."


    "A lot more than that," said Tanith. "He''s a genius. He managed to put together a working Kingdom with the approval of the nobility. His second in command is a Blackguard named Lamech, and he can keep him under control.


    "But I don''t think he has anything to gain by sabotaging all this. He advances himself purely through Lord Kern''s good graces. Unless he can arrange a political marriage."


    "Then why the attack on the ford?" asked Gavin.


    "It might be," said Tanith. "That Tavish is trying to get into my Father''s good graces. He must have a lot of money. If his holdings in Antion are failing, paying Father''s debts with his money could buy his pardon."


    "William is a compassionate but dangerous young man," said Arengeth. "He spent many weeks healing the sick and injured in Antion. And he has been courteous and careful in all his dealings.


    "I do not believe he would launch such an assault without a serious provocation.


    "The only other possibility I see..."


    "Yes," said Gavin.


    "William might have gone insane," said Arengeth. "He is a veteran of the Khasmir Campaign and was in the thick of the fighting. He clashed with Melchious and many demons and has many contacts with the spirit world.


    "It could be that the events in Antion drove him to madness. His being here at all is an anomaly. He might have a good reason for it; we do not know. But it is possible that the horrors of the crisis caused him to snap.


    "The accounts detail he wore no armor, and no servant was with him. If he returned with his armor stolen and his friend dead. All to find his way barred by an impudent guardsman..."


    "He might snap and strike him down in a rage," said Gavin. "I pray that is not the case. But something can only be done once we know more.


    "But what is this about a Sorcerer''s Guild?"


    "You mean..." Tanith halted. "You mean to say that you didn''t authorize the creation of a Sorcerer''s Guild in Haldren."


    "Well, it seems like a good idea now," said Merrin. "However, we''ve had much more serious concerns. We''ve had several engagements with the Babarassians on the shores. They like to raid, though it hasn''t been as bad as it once was.


    "Rumors are coming in of Duke Vanion amassing power, and Lord Kern has kept us informed. By nature, he processes what information he gives us. I remember I did send Kern a letter asking him to look into breaking our reliance on Magicora, but that was years ago. Back when it looked like Magicora might be sacked by House Stormstrike. However, nothing came of it.


    "Perhaps he has been following that order all this time."


    "Do you have any other sources?" asked Auga.


    "To our south is Lord Kern, and we must travel through Furbearer territory to get any further," said Gavin. "To our east is Gel Carn, House Gabriel''s territory. The west leads to Babarassia, and merchants rarely take that route. The northern lands are all ours, with House Acas ruling well. But the mountains make passage difficult.


    "And House Gabriel, we thought was our enemy."


    "We do, however, have other, independent assurance. I have established several sources in Antion and Artarq. And some of our soldiers went to Khasmir to fight and observe things. However, they did not wear my banner.


    "They informed us that William had been causing a stir, to say the least."


    "I think there was going to be a stir anyway, your majesty," said Arengeth. "William just started it before it could get really bad and ensured it was less destructive. The Paladin Order might have besieged Ascorn. All while the land was plagued and the Furbearers enslaved."


    "I am interested to note that no report of these returning Furbearers has come to me," said Gavin. "Why did you not speak to me?"


    "We had taken you for our nemesis," said Auga. "And it was hard enough to keep in contact with our neighbors who might have been at war with us.


    "No one thought of it."


    "I thought of it," said Tanith. "I tried to get to King Gavin and figure out what was happening, but Kern caught me at the border. So I went with him; he apologized and then explained everything.


    "I thought that the whole situation was over. The way Lord Kern told it, everything had been a misunderstanding that got out of hand. Everyone acted honorably, but our information was bad, and we were in combat.


    "I actually fell for it!


    "I was dead set on talking to you about all this and...


    "I didn''t even think he was lying! It never even entered my thoughts!"


    "Well, if it''s any consolation, Lord Kern is very good at making people see things his way," said Merrin. "I wonder if we should not have been paying more attention."


    "What would you advise, Merrin?" asked Gavin.


    "Well, there''s nothing for it," said Merrin. "If things are as they appear now, we''ve got to speak to Lord Kern and his son, Tavish. At the very least, they must account for their actions. They may have a good reason for why they have been lying about having royal authorization.


    "But if they do, they ought to explain it."


    "It would have been better if he''d just cleared it with us. Then we''d have avoided all this," said Gavin.


    "It can''t be Kern," said Anborn.


    "What do you mean?" asked Gavin.


    "I''ve visited Edward Kern and Lord Kern," said Anborn. "They are both good people. Kern didn''t want to invade the Furbearers at all. But the war went too well, and he completely won.


    "And both sides believe the other started it. They''d never betray King Gavin; this wasn''t some dark scheme."


    "Kern''s shadow could have been used to appoint Anborn," said Auga. "Well-placed suggestions could convince people to appoint Anborn and leave another."


    "Not all powers sit in Council chambers," noted Arengeth.


    "If so," said Gavin. "It would have to be a merchant. Someone with a lot of influence who often is of use to others. But who no one think of?


    "Jehair perhaps?" said Merrin. "She''s a bit too neutral for our good."


    "No," said Gavin. "Jehair usually works against the worst sorts of business. She works with slavers, but she does not intervene in politics.


    "It could be virtually anyone. Someone helpful and subtle."


    "Rius had a meeting with many merchants," said Tanith. "And refused to let me be at it."


    "Could Rius be it?" asked Merrin.


    "Too easy," said Gavin. "Besides, Rius has made himself a figurehead in his own city. I cannot imagine him engineering anything like this. Though he was likely an ideal means to get the appointment."


    "It doesn''t matter," said Anborn. "We''re all villains in this.


    "Not one person in all this is the hero, except maybe the Furbearers. Not one."


    And no one said anything.


    Because there really was nothing to say to it. Tanith could not argue and opened her mouth to object but shut it.


    "William is a hero," said Auga. "Not the hero, but he is a hero. And so are a lot of others."


    "Then we are at war with ourselves," said Gavin. "What need have we of demons now?"


    "Your majesty," said Arengeth. "This matter is not concluded. And I fear we may face a major disaster if we do not complete it soon. We must get to Ran Telus and speak to your son.


    "No doubt he will have made some progress."


    "Prince Aras was not even in the city when I arrived," said Tanith. "And there was talk of marriage alliances."


    "Marriage alliances?" asked Gavin. "Preposterous. My son has had his eye fixed on one another for years. He and the Paladin Farwa often walk together beneath the moonlight. They hunt dark creatures together. He often has walked the wilds of Antion seeking her.


    "And my other children are either uninterested in marriage or already married.


    "These must have been mere rumors."


    "My Mother spoke of it," said Tanith. "Someone put the idea into her head.


    "But he and my Father were out hunting. So I could not meet with him."


    "Aras never goes out hunting," said Gavin. "Not really.


    "He loves animals. When he goes out hunting, he needs some good reason to be elsewhere. And that is often.


    "If these men tried to turn William back, what purpose could it serve?


    "Lady Telus, what did you see when you arrived?"


    "Nothing," said Tanith. "I came in behind an ox-cart, went straight to my Mother, and spoke with her. Then I learned you were coming and went to take command here.


    "I thought we were about to have a war, and my Father was going to be forced to betray House Gabriel."


    "Who were the guards who went with Aras?" asked Anborn. "And how many?"


    "A small group company of elite men,"'' said Gavin. "Small for royalty."


    "How could William have forced his way across without any armor?" asked Tanith. "He''s not that good. He''d be no match for elite men in armor by himself."


    Silence.


    "Ran Telus has been taken hostage," realized Gavin.

 Chapter Forty-Two: The Prince Returns

    William returned to Ran Telus and had a sense of homecoming; seeing familiar sights with new eyes was nice. So they emerged from the trees into the welcome air of full daylight. William picked up her tracks and realized he''d picked up a thing or two from Jehair. Not that he''d ever need it.


    Henceforth, he meant to stick to the roads.


    One that he''d expected to feel at Carn Gable. It was a bitter realization that the home he grew up in meant almost nothing to him. It was a dark, hazy memory with some good spots, even though no one had hated him. Most of what he remembered was his lessons, often taking him to the surrounding area.


    But then, he''d always liked this prosperous and busy city better than Carn Gable. The flowing banners and good stonework were nice. So often, they had journeyed to it and neighboring areas. As they walked, however, William noticed many similarly dressed men standing to attention. They were nominally members of the King''s army, yet they looked entirely out of place.


    They were not looking or pillaging. Were they all Babarassians? Why make such a public showing at all? Indeed, they could not have been stupid enough to think they could take this place. And there was militia near each one.


    Why such a savage rejection as though desperate?


    It must have been the end of some old plot the bridge guard was trying to conceal. No doubt Arkan would figure it out soon enough.


    "Ran Telus at last," said Kata. Her tone spoke volumes of what she thought of it. William didn''t blame her.


    "This place is amazing," said Oresa, looking at the colorful banners. Her tone also spoke volumes.


    "Much more impressive than my home," laughed William. "Though less defensible. To tell you the truth, my home has always been less luxurious. I wish we were coming here in better circumstances."


    "Won''t you be recognized?" asked Kata.


    "No, I don''t think I will," said William. There were those magnificent gates they had entered through before. "The William Gabriel who came through here last time was a less impressive figure. I have several scars and a different manner. It should be enough to fool one I am not familiar with." And he brought to mind the horrors he had suffered and tried to look a lot less vicious. "Well, for a start, Oresa, you will walk ahead.


    "Be friendly and innocent, and I will walk behind. Kata, you and I shall walk behind her as mercenary protectors. Try to look sour, and don''t mention your heritage."


    "Why?" asked Kata.


    "I want to attract attention to her as the dim-witted innocent," said William. "Not I, the ruthless veteran, or what have you. If she is in command, they won''t take us seriously."


    "You look like about as much a ruthless war veteran as a puppy," said Kata with a laugh.


    "A scarred puppy," said Oresa.


    It was laughter that William did not share.


    "Be that as it may," said William. "I will not be taking chief place as we enter. I want someone to see you as a mark, Oresa, and me as someone who can be subverted to get to you.


    "Kata, you are now my unreliable native sidekick. So play your parts, and let''s start looking."


    "What are we looking for?" asked Kata.


    "I have no idea," said William.


    On they went, Oresa at the head, her loose clothing flowing around her as she leaned over to look at wells. And also to gaze at stone walls and ask about their construction to no one in particular. The odd thing was that people seemed to disregard how little she wore, as though it didn''t matter.


    Did she have divine ancestry?


    William moved forward, and Oresa went ahead to the guard. "Um, excuse me, sir, I''m Princess Oresa, and these nice people have been escorting me. I was wondering if the Lord Edmund Telus is here."


    "A Princess?" asked the guard. "From where?"


    "Um, a far-off land called Eastern Kalthak," said Oresa. "See, I''m separated from my companions and don''t know anyone here. My Father is a long way off and has a lot of daughters, so nobody will come looking for me or anything."


    "You really should put something on and find somewhere safe," said the guard. "Don''t go anywhere near the market squares. Find the, uh, the Ancient Horses Inn. It''s a good place, a decent innkeeper, and safe.


    "Don''t go anywhere near the places on the shore. That''s where mercenaries and less savory folk are. Some won''t be here in a while, so Lord Telus can''t do justice to them."


    "Thanks a lot," said Oresa.


    The streets at this port were clean, and the people were not ill or injured. The guards were well disciplined and kept watch without imposing themselves. The buildings were in good repair, and the fresh sea air was beautiful.


    Now he knew why his fond memories were here.


    This was the city of a good Lord, a place of life and beauty. His experiences and victories had not diminished it. On the contrary, only made him appreciate it all the more, now knowing the alternative. There was a city across the channel with all the same advantages. And it was hell.


    The difference was the man who ruled it.


    Tanith had a Father to be proud of. He hoped she knew that.


    Even so, William rapidly concluded that there was something special about Oresa. There was a purity or innocence to her that people picked up on. Some people looked up at her orange hair and scoffed. Others sighed, while still more just walked off, but a few looked a bit better for having seen her.


    She talked to people, asking them about what happened in these places. William knew the answers; however, there was the fletcher''s shop. There, some of the best arrows in Haldren were made. There was also an armorer, where Duke Vanion had gotten the armor for his elite troops.


    "Why not look for Edmund Telus?" asked Kata quietly.


    "We''d never find him," said William, keeping his gaze on Oresa. "And if Prince Aras is against us, we cannot defeat him. He''s much better than me; we''d never find him anyway. Besides, you don''t kill royalty; it''s not done." Focus on purity and innocence being somehow wrong."


    William halted and looked over to one side. On a stall before him, he saw a mirror. A woman was there.


    "Will you look into the mirror?" asked the woman.


    "What will I see except myself?" asked William.


    "This mirror is blessed by the magic of the Mirror of Laevian," said the woman. "You may see who you are. If you dare look."


    William raised it to his eyes. In it, he was a man, though younger than most. His eye bore a scar of a battle over it, but it had not destroyed the picture of nobility he could represent. His garb was travel-stained and mismatched, his hair ragged. His sword was black as night, but it did not hide who he was.


    William smiled and put the mirror down. He nodded to the woman. "Thank you."


    "What you saw was yourself," said the woman.


    William turned away.


    "What did you see?" asked Oresa.


    "A noble among commoners who are kind enough to humor him," said William.


    William wondered what the terrible person he''d imagined himself as was thinking. It seemed wrong to forget him entirely. Likely he suspected this was set up to make the betrayal crueler. But, whoever it was, it hardly mattered anymore.


    His soul was lost.


    To William Gabriel.


    They walked many places Oresa led them, and William was content for her to be happy. She and Kata seemed to get on well, but he trailed behind and wondered what Melchious was thinking now. Had it been Melchious or another like him? Perhaps there were many of them.


    Not all could be so ruined.


    Had Melchious laughed with him, or was he infuriated that anyone should feel true joy? He hadn''t had anything to do with this. Were William and Melchious thinking the same thing right now about one another?


    "How much for the girl?" asked a man.


    William turned to him and, at first, thought Lamech was behind him. Yet as he looked, William realized his eyes had no glow. His armor was gone for a moment if he''d ever worn it. Now, all he saw was a man trying to make his way.


    Kata came up behind William as he removed his gloves and splashed water on his face to wash it off. Then, he becomes a bit more presentable. It looked better now.


    Who was he?


    "We''re going to the Lady Telus at once," said William.


    "That would be a very unwise move, Sir Gabriel," said a voice.


    William looked up and saw a familiar, mustached man. What was his name? William had been so occupied he''d nearly forgotten it. Oh yes, Lilas. Hadn''t he mistreated his workers?


    "Oh, Lilas, you''re here," said William. "I''m pleased someone is. How can I help?"


    "Not here; we must speak somewhere else safe," said Lilas quickly. "You may find this place more hostile than you remember. The situation has changed."


    "Very well," said William. "Lead on.


    "Oresa, Kata, stay close and ready." He wondered if Lilas had heard his conversation and sincerely doubted it. If he had, Lilas would be running and not approaching him.


    Lilas led William to a grand-looking building with a large gate and many windows. Motioning to it, he smiled. "This is a brothel, one of several such establishments I''ve created. Lady Telus had a notable interest in some among them."


    "Are you insulting my friend? Or trying to discredit me?" asked William.


    "Merely noting that such a place is a common visiting location for soldiers," said Lilas.


    William knew this to be a lie. Tanith had never visited a brothel in her career; she''d always said she''d like to conquer her prey. And since Duke Vanion was at war with organized crime, the soldiers had been kept away from brothels, on penalty of a fine.


    "Show me your trade records, now," said William.


    Lilas seemed surprised by this and a bit worried. "As you wish.


    "Though I''d hoped to be taking at face value. This way."


    "Oresa, Kata, can you read Haldrenian," asked William. "It''s a runic script focusing on being short and to the point?" He let a threat stay in the last statement; he wanted to appear as a mere brute.


    "Yes," said Kata.


    "I can''t," said Oresa.


    William said nothing, and Lilas looked a bit worried. They went in by a side door, and William checked his corners. One man moved forward, having an axe, but William looked at him. Then, several men. "Get out, all of you. I''m here on business from House Telus."


    The guards hesitated and looked to Lilas, who went white.


    "Now," said William.


    "Yes, sir," they said. They nodded and walked out.


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    Lilas opened his mouth as if to call them back but halted. He was not respected by military men. No guard would be stupid enough to cross nobility. Let alone the well-known son of an ally of House Telus. Lilas suddenly realized he was on his own before three hazardous people. Hurriedly, he gave me a book to him.


    "Lilas, please sit down," said William. "Oresa, Kata, watch that door, but don''t be a menace. I don''t want there to be any blood."


    William took the records and began to scan through them. These were just in Ran Telus and the businesses in this place, but it was immense. He imported fine silk to cloth his employees. He had contacts with merchants all over Antion and Haldren. Food and spices were imported from the Islands of Power for prices far too reasonable to be uninformed.


    Many herbs were grown in Blackfear, and he made vast sums of money based on these numbers. Looking up at Lilas, William flipped through several more pages. "Where is the rest?"


    "Each of my trade posts has its own documentation," said Lilas. "The numbers and dates are all in my head. I reference them as they arrive."


    "I see," said William. He checked further. He noticed that a lot of Furbearer quilts were shipped before enslavement. So, repayment of his debts was still waiting. "Tell me about your profits in the King''s Road, Kata; take notes."


    Lilas halted. "I don''t remember them."


    "I see," said William. "Give me a rough estimate."


    "I make much money from the King''s Road," said Lilas. "There is extensive traffic."


    "And Blackfear?" asked William.


    "I have no holdings in Blackfear," said Lilas.


    "Then I have been misinformed," said William. "Since several reliable sources say you do."


    "I may have a few herb gardens that I profit from," said Lilas. "But it is nothing significant."


    William saw the notes on the King''s Road in the book itself. The costs for moving Sornian goods along it were far too low. You''d need guards and a lot of money for tolls. It seemed like something was being covered up.


    So William asked question after question, and Oresa sketched it out.


    "I''m sure it is," said William after a moment. "If all this is accurate, then you are a loyal and humble servant of the realm. However, you should know that many of these investments will be disrupted soon."


    "Is there some move I should know of?" asked Lilas, now feeling more confident. Oresa looked relieved now. She''d had pity on Lilas.


    "No," said William. "I am simply stating that Antion is in chaos. Everything is being reorganized in preparation for the Heir of Kings. I''d hate for you or anyone else to lose their livelihood."


    "Divine favor often needs a helping hand," said Lilas. Oresa frowned at this.


    "I would argue the helping hand needs divine favor," said William, putting the book down. Time to manipulate this man. "Explain why you feel I shouldn''t go and visit a longtime friend?"


    "Well, the Lady Mara is hardly an imposing figure. Edmund Telus is gone and has been for some time, as is Prince Aras," said Lilas, relieved at the subject change. "And when Tanith arrived, hearing House Gabriel was betrayed, she hurried to the castle immediately. Many remarked she was intent on violence, and the castle has been locked down."


    "Tanith Telus would never harm her Mother," said William, shocked and appalled at the idea.


    "Wars can change one, milord," said Lilas, giving what might have been a sad smile. It ended up looking smug instead. No doubt, he was pleased with knowing something William didn''t know. In reality, Lilas knew nothing.


    "Tell me about this Black Ice," said William. He understood nothing.


    "An employee of House Hawkthorne," said Lilas. "He arrived here with those gathering to fight the Babarassians. After a dragon destroyed them, a very convenient event, they were out of work. So House Hawkthorne has been gathering people here since.


    "One can only wonder what they intend now." Lilas had pegged William as a hero.


    So why was he now treating William like an idiot? Surely, the fact that William had wanted to read his documents meant he was intelligent. Especially since he had talked down those thugs and had Lilas'' men walk out.


    Was it possible that Lilas assumed only stupid people were good?


    It would explain a great deal. Some had told William that politics was a game, but House Gabriel never subscribed to view. Politics was about people and how to get them to do what they wanted. And also making sure what you wanted was good for you.


    Father wanted power; everything he did was to that end. William wanted to heal people and gain great renown. What did Lilas want? He obviously had no pride, and he had money.


    "What would you say they intend?" asked William.


    "What can only speculate at his point," said Lilas. "But, Lords seldom send armed men into other domains without reason."


    That was objectively untrue.


    Harlenor had a very, very large population of mercenaries for hire. They were in constant circulation. Argath Marn had gained fame, as had Father and Raynald and many others. Warriors went into it and took sides to make connections and become great. All so that they could be rewarded justly for their efforts.


    But then Lilas didn''t believe in rewarding people, did he? William remembered the men he''d mistreated in Ascorn. Obviously, he had contempt for those he had passed by in the race, so to speak. Perhaps because they reminded him of where he came from?


    "And Black Ice?" asked William.


    "A notable enforcer, known for his brutal behavior," said Lilas. "He has been waiting with uncharacteristic gentility. But it is brought to me that he murdered a woman and her child in Ascorn." There could have been such a thug, but such a man would never command the respect of warriors. Brutality was not admired; strength was.


    Children died in war. That didn''t mean people wanted babies on spikes.


    "What other accomplishments does he have?" asked William.


    "He apparently cut down a crowd of Babarassians in Ascorn," said Lilas. "A demon with a sword, they say. You might enjoy fighting him. It was said that he murdered his own Father and sister."


    Why did he keep treating William like an idiot? There would always be atrocities so long as there was war. Tanith had committed her fair share. Yet, William was friends with her because he was responsible for her. What did this man think? That because this Black Ice had done atrocities, William would go out sword drawn?


    Lilas seemed to need clarification. Good gods, this man was terrible at controlling himself. William guessed that he operated by being beneath notice. So once someone paid attention to him, he had no idea how to operate. Or he was just really bad at this. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "How unfortunate," said William. "Tell me of the debts House Telus has incurred?"


    Now, Lilas looked less concerned and took on a scheming fashion. As though reflecting William''s own nature. "They are quite substantial, I gather.


    "Indeed, Baron Hawkthorne came here to negotiate them. There were plans for a political marriage, and Prince Aras came here. Shortly before your associates assassinated Lord Rius."


    "Has anyone tried to kill them yet?" asked William.


    "That isn''t the direct action men take in this place," said Lilas. Assuming William''s persona was correct. "I gather you''ve learned a different kind of politics. House Gabriel is well known for paying its debts."


    William decided he was going to screw with this man. So he put on the very image of a concerned and compassionate Paladin. "Where are the sick and injured? I must tend to them at once."


    "Edmund Telus has not allowed the Healer''s Guild to bring in inefficiencies," said Lilas.


    "Then there are no sick or injured? No one in need?" asked William.


    "The stalwart priests of Elranor continue to operate," said Lilas. Who probably took his commentary for mockery? It was, but only if he was involved in the Healer''s Guild.


    "And what of the people here?" asked William. "What of the soldiers who are camped across the countryside? Have they abused their power? Are the people well fed?"


    "Things have been tense, and yes, they are," said Lilas, trying to figure out what he was getting at. "A center of trade is a good area of operation for merchants."


    Money was everything to this man.


    "Do you worship Coinfurth?" asked William.


    "The priests have taught me much about religion," said Lilas.


    William considered killing him then and there. It was an unworthy thought, but he had it. He wasn''t sure why he loathed this man so much. "Ascorn didn''t look nearly so prosperous.


    "How is this connected to Rius?"


    "Everyone had a connection to the late and lamented Lord Rius," said Lilas, tone holding a note of sarcasm. "He was very polite and a good host but lacked mercantile skill. Mostly, he was given his bribes and let men do as they wished.


    "It was a free market."


    "Not when I arrived there," said William before drawing out Larxe''s list. "Everyone on this list is probably dead. Werewolves verified this information."


    Lilas looked at it and looked concerned; he must have known some of these men. There was anger but no grief. "I see.


    "How did they die?"


    "Devoured by starving vampires, among other fates," said William. "I gather Elranor didn''t care for sanctioning infant sacrifice.


    "It appears there are limits even to what the church will do."


    "There''s no such thing as a limit, Sir Gabriel," said Lilas. "Only somewhere you haven''t reached yet."


    "Be careful where you reach," said William, voice going harsh. "You own a lot more than is standard for a merchant. What is your connection to House Telus?"


    "Lady Telus and myself were old friends," said Lilas. "Though she may not remember as such."


    "Why was Tanith Telus not included in Rius'' meetings?" asked William. "It did not seem her consent was relevant," said Lilas.


    "For?" asked William.


    Lilas halted. "Tavish Kern apparently likes her. He has been looking for an excuse to get her to open her legs for some time."


    "Meaning?" asked William, who knew Tavish wanted marriage. He was about ready to kill this man. His casual disrespect was disgraceful.


    "He is seeking a marriage arrangement to get into nobility," said Lilas, now off guard. "A common slur I picked up in some of the worse parts of Escor."


    "Go on," said William.


    "He arranged for Anborn, the firstborn son of Edmund Telus, to be given a position," said Lilas. "I gather Tanith was upset it was not given to her. So she brutalized her brother and forced him to fight on the front lines." It was as though Kata did not even exist. Oresa was now looking thoughtful.


    "Who hired the Babarassians?" asked William flatly. But, of course, no one had hired the Babarassians. They''d done it independently, but Lilas might not know that.


    "...Lord Kern," said Lilas, becoming nervous.


    "How do you know this?" asked William.


    "I was at the meeting," said Lilas. "Many things were discussed. It was scheduled beforehand."


    "And you didn''t feel obligated to talk to a member of House Telus when you were arranging this?" asked William. "Tanith was in a high position of authority."


    "I was there by the authority of King Gavin," said Lilas. "I am still a royal financier, after all. The streets were unsafe, and there was little-"


    "The streets weren''t unsafe," said Kata, standing up. "We''d secured them by then, I remember; I was there. All our operations pulled people out of the slave camps Tavish was freeing."


    Lilas halted and looked to Kata, then William. "Would you believe the words of a Furbearer slave over a fellow noble?"


    William motioned to Kata, and she sat down. "Explain what you mean by that?"


    "Well," said Lilas. "I am nobility. I am the official of certain unprofitable lands on the border with the Wood Elves. A wasteland of no real value or strength.


    "I departed it ages ago to seek service under King Gavin as a financier. That was nearly thirty years ago. That was where I met the Lady Telus and eventually began operations here. Similar to your own story.


    "Your books provided me with several opportunities."


    "I am quite sure they did," said William, feeling any respect for the man crumbles to dust. It would be one thing if he''d been a nobody who''d worked his way up from nothing. But now, it was plain that he had abandoned the realm he was supposed to rule. And it was hardly a wasteland. "You know that that region is growing in prosperity, yes?"


    "Well, the wonders of the economy," said Lilas.


    "No, the wonders of good rule," said William. "The neighboring houses have been taking up positions of authority there. House Korlac initiated a hanging of two druids there. Some Lord''s sons speak openly of taking power there.


    "Hardly anyone even remembers you were ever there. So it might be wise to return and set matters to rights."


    "I appreciate your concern," said Lilas, an edge in his tone. "But it''s a minor trade outpost in a much larger realm. Hardly worth the trouble of one with my resources."


    As expected.


    "Who got the Babarassian''s royal army uniforms?" asked William finally. "I know House Gabriel didn''t."


    It could not be Tavish Kern because he aimed for a political marriage. It could not be King Gavin because the Babarassians would take his Kingdom. Kern was an extension of the King, and Lilas could not accuse him. Acas in the north was too distant, and Haldren needed help to arrange it.


    "...I don''t remember," said Lilas.


    "Think of some names," said William, picking up the book. "Get them to King Gavin. Do you have a spare version of this book?"


    "Yes," said Lilas.


    "Good, because I''m keeping this one," said William, standing up. "Show me the brothels; now I want to see the girls."


    "Of course, sir," said Lilas, regaining confidence. So there were other documents, but this one only scratched the surface. And he led him into a side room.


    Lilas assembled a row of beautiful, scantily clad women. Their bodies were very nice, but they were smiling. Many had unnatural proportions, which ought to be impossible due to magic. There was a glow to them, but it wasn''t like Oresa. It was false, a violation.


    "They seem very happy given their employment," said William.


    "Too happy," said Kata.


    "Well, getting someone to love their work is easy," said Lilas. "Just find someone from the worst hell on earth, and this place becomes heaven."


    That kind of thinking would make the world hell. "A dangerous assumption," said William. "People can think. There''s a price to everything." And he turned to walk out. "Everything."


    Then, as he reached the door''s threshold, he turned back to Lilas, who was already looking at the whores. "Oh, and Lilas..."


    "Yes?" asked Lilas.


    What to say?


    "Your loyalty to Harlenor should be greater than your desire for profit," said William. "If you interfere with the security of Harlenor again, you''ll hang next to Cirithil when I meet him in Antion.


    "Understand."


    Lilas smiled. "I understand, of course."


    "Good," said William. "Don''t make me come down here again."


    William walked out with a sigh. It was dark now, with dusk fading into twilight. The stars were blazing above, and the air was crisp and clear. He was sure he could make good on this boast; Lilas ran with many people, and House Gabriel was powerful. Having them both hanging at his initial arrival might take some doing. But it could be done if Lilas crossed the nation again. It might be a moot point if King Gavin could have done better on these reports.


    Aras came forward as they entered the town square, garbed in black. He pulled back his hood, and William thought rough living suited him better. "Excellent work.


    "If you continue like, we''ll be in for either a golden age or a brutal civil war."


    "We might have both at this rate," said William. "Prince Aras.


    "I was given to believe you were absent."


    "One has to take plain guises now and then," said Aras. "This situation has left me with little faith in humanity."


    "At least there is humanity to redeem itself," said Kata sadly.


    "What exactly is going on here?" asked William, feeling much better that he hadn''t killed Lilas.


    "Those soldiers in royal colors came here months ago," said Aras. "They had the uniforms set up long ahead of things. Then, they disguised themselves as merchants and took on a new form.


    "And they''ve burned their dead in secret.


    "I had not known they were Babarassians, however. When I arrived, they came out and declared for me. Edmund and I immediately went into hiding for obvious reasons."


    "It must have been part of a larger plan," said Kata. "The Babarassians conquer the Furbearers, and the men here open the gates of House Telus to them.


    "Smart."


    "Yes, I imagine the arrival of a giant dragon to burn their new colonies to ashes changed the situation," said Aras. "They were caught in their own trap then. They had no means of escape and no means of security except keeping the facade up.


    "My Father was moving to set up defenses at Carn Gable and deal with it directly. I''m afraid he may be operating on a less favorable view of your Father''s actions. But since that area was unoccupied, I fear it may have been taken.


    "I''m sure we can work this out, however."


    "What now?" asked Oresa.


    "I need a meal and a hot bath," said William.


    And they did.


    The tavern they went to was nice, with music and many good drinks. William enjoyed it, and they spoke of many things. Aras, evidently, did not think there was any great crisis. And William took his word for it.


    "So Jehair, is she?" asked Areas.


    "In prison," said William. "Assuming the werewolves haven''t killed her."


    Aras looked concerned. "You''d best explain."


    William explained at length, and as he did, he felt much better. Aras smoked his pipe while making no comment.


    "Why did you choose to arrest her?" asked Aras. "You could have simply pretended it didn''t happen."


    "It was a choice between her glory and my glory," said William. "I considered letting the matter.


    "But I decided it would not be right for her to be the hero. So now there is no hero."


    "Well, at least things are finally settling down," said Kata.


    "You assume that something isn''t going wrong," said William.


    "Not this time, it won''t," said Aras. "And if it does, the Gods will receive a strongly worded letter."


    William laughed.


    He was looking forward to meeting King Gavin.

 Chapter Forty-Three: Returning Heroes

    William waited on a pier overlooking the sea as a ship came in.


    Black-armored soldiers made hails of greeting. Among them were Raynald and Vanion, standing together as they had when they left. Behind William, Ran Telus was abuzz with activities. People came from all over to see the celebrations as plans were laid for future alliances. Most of the bad blood had cleared by now. Those Drens who had survived the fighting with Tanith were welcome. A few were even marrying among the Furbearers. Battlefield romances, apparently.


    And Vanion Gabriel stepped off the pier, cloak flowing around him like some gallant lord out of legend. Adjusting it made him look very wise and noble to any observers. William appreciated the effort as he stood up and offered Vanion his sword.


    "Father, you''re here at last," said William.


    "Yes, I am, my son," said Father, taking the blade. "You''ve kept good care of it.


    "My sources often spoke of your efforts. You''ve gone far beyond what anyone would have expected of you. It shows that extra effort can shift the universe, not just on your part but on others.


    "And you would be the Princess Oresa whose beauty is so spoken of, and Kata, the Warrior Queen to be of the Furbearers."


    Kata blushed with pride. "You know of us?"


    "I mean means," said Vanion. "I would have given you more help. But Khasmir is in such ruin I have been meditating there. We very nearly had another war between the satyrs. Ascorn, I could help with Amenos." He nodded to Amenos. "However, I have had very little to work with save William and Tanith.


    "And Tanith is an unpredictable piece to play in this regrettable game."


    "We noticed," laughed Kata.


    "I must admit, this was not a planned expedition. But with everything on the line, I had to come up quickly," Vanion halted. "William, you must not think I knew things were nearly as bad as they were.


    "I fear my gaze is limited by what I focus on, as are all men. I should have sent more support if I had known how serious the plague and criminal element were."


    "Well, the matter is largely concluded now," said William. "Arkan and Tavish are off renegotiating things now."


    "What is your read on the matter?" asked Vanion.


    Raynald was uncharacteristically silent. William guessed that he was absent in an official capacity. Likely Vanion had to look as impressive as possible, and Raynald faded into the background. "Well, the world is ill-disposed toward Arkan now, and the same for Tavish.


    "Paying off a lot of debts has bought them a pardon from Gavin. A great many merchant Lords have lost a fortune in this. They brazenly invested in evil markets and have paid the price to the creatures that dwell in them."


    "Yes, I have heard of many arrests," said Vanion. "Apparently, the werewolves and House Korlac are getting on very well. Our alliance with Larxe was a masterstroke on Elranor''s part. I''m also pleased you arrested Jehair. She was too dangerous to be left unchecked."


    "It was her or us in that situation," said William. "What she did could not be pardoned by me. She committed a crime, and I had to arrest her."


    "Well, she has since walked out," said Vanion. "Even as we speak, Korlacs hunts are being called off. They have arrested quite a few low-level operators and a few moderate ringleaders. So things will be safer for a time, but we''ll have to battle the criminals again.


    "Ansara sent some documentation of her own as a gift. She''d like it to be included in your writings when permission is granted to release them."


    "I would not presume to release a detailed history," said William. Raynald looked irritated at this. "Raynald, what''s wrong?"


    "It isn''t right," said Raynald finally. "These bastards have had it all their own way for years. We''ve got them on the run. We should be pressing the attack and burning them out; damn the money losses.


    "Instead, we''re letting the people who tried to sell us up the river go and worse, having to smile in their faces."


    "I know the feeling," said Kata sadly.


    "I understand your objections, Raynald," said Vanion. "But an enemy backed into a corner fights twice as hard. Moreover, our enemy has support from many nations and likely from some elements of the nobility.


    "If they genuinely believed we were out for blood, they would not use any rules. They would do whatever it took to kill or subvert us, and it would be a gruesome battle. Calisha would be the only victor.


    "We took them off guard here and did great damage. Many of them will kill eachother off because of the loss of profits. However, our reckoning with them will have to wait for a position of strength."


    "Yes, sir," said William before Raynald had to.


    Raynald nodded.


    "Now," said Vanion. "Princess Oresa, who is here at the moment?" He was testing her.


    "At present, Arkan Lantan and Tavish Kern, King Osrif. And the leader of the Babarassians, Emile," said Oresa. "They surrendered shortly after their deception was arranged. Gavin has given them some very lavish gifts; I don''t understand why."


    "Perhaps he does not want them to go home empty-handed," said Vanion. "They have lost many friends and ships and even family. All for nothing.


    "Send them back without a shirt, and they will hate you forever. But, on the other hand, give them a generous gift and let them go, and they may feel ashamed to have struck so noble a figure. Or at least decide it is not worth the effort of attacking again.


    "Auga did her work well."


    "Why do you have a dragon in the family?" asked Kata.


    "She doesn''t take that form unless the mood strikes her," said Vanion. "And that is very rare. So it''s not something I control. Most of her time is spent reading."


    "Edmund and Prince Aras are here, as is King Gavin," said William. "Tanith should be coming; a messenger came."


    This was far from the first meeting that happened.


    Soon enough, another ship came in from Artarq, and a sunny-haired but serious-faced man was on it. He wore a blue cloak and leaped off before the ship was fully docked. As he did, Tanith and Anborn rushed forward to meet him.


    "Sunthred!" said Tanith.


    "Tanith, Anborn, I''m glad to see you at last," said Sunthred, clasping both by the arm. "I''m told you vanquished the hosts of Lord Kern almost singlehanded."


    "Not really," said Tanith.


    "But close to it," said Anborn, looking more like his old self. "We didn''t have any legions. A minor skirmish to get rid of the bad blood, but I was the finest spear on the field."


    "I was wielding swords," said Tanith.


    Laughter, like they were family again.


    "How are things in Artarq?" asked Anborn.


    "Very good," said Sunthred. "Since the Khasmir Campaign, Duke Vanion has started cooperating with Baltoth. They used to play one of us against the other, but now we can share information and wipe them out.


    "They''ll need an alternate source at this point. Likely from Kalthak."


    "Well, they''d have to secure the Islands of Power first and have a stable journey," noted Anborn. "I''ve done work as a bard out there."


    "Assuming there is anyone left at this point," said Tanith.


    "You don''t have to worry about that," said Tavish, coming out of the shadows. Things became tense.


    "Ah, Tavish is here," said Tanith. "Why don''t I have to worry?"


    "Prince Aras and I have been discussing turning all our operations," said Tavish. "We only started them to disrupt the rising crime rates. Now that Arkan should be able to control it and the law is being enforced, our job is to cut and run while we have the chance.


    "We warned everyone that it was every man for himself."


    "Is that a tradition?" asked Tanith.


    "Call it a grace period," said Tavish. "Arkan has done this several times. First, you set up ''organized'' crime in a place whose government is about to collapse. Then you use your status to keep things slow and humane.


    "Either people start enforcing the law again. Or the nobility gets so discredited, and everything collapses." Then he turned to see Vanion approaching and stepped back in fear. "Duke Vanion."


    "Yes, Duke Vanion is here," said Vanion. "I''m told you made a generous donation to the finances of my friend, Lord Edmund Telus, and asked no favor for it."


    "No sir," said Tavish, shuddering. "I felt that I was the one who had to clear the debt."


    "That is wise," said Vanion. "If your agents ever sell malas outside of legal bounds again, no god, king, or demon will save you from me. Are we clear?"


    "Yes, sir," said Tavish, meeting his gaze and showing only a hint of fear.


    "Good; send me a full report on your contacts in the Sorcerer''s Guild. We can consider the vendetta ended," said Vanion. Then he turned to Tanith. "You''ve performed excellently Tanith. I consider your earlier misstep in Gel Carn fully repaid. I have communicated with Wrynncurth by the crystal ball, and things should work out.


    "Provided there are no further incidents. He appreciates your assistance in Ascorn and other places. Give my regards to your Father; I may be detained."


    "Yes, sir, thank you," said Tanith before turning to move off.


    Tavish hurried past William, halting only momentarily with a lovestruck look on his face. "She''s too good for me."


    And off he went.


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    Tanith, Sunthred, and Anborn went off together, and William didn''t mind. This wasn''t about him, after all. However, Lilas was watching to one side, and his expression was enraged. William did not look at him and wondered what it was that he hated about the moment so.


    "Now, this merchant, Lilas, you mentioned him," said Vanion quietly.


    "Frankly, I think he made some sort of power play," said William. "I don''t think he technically did anything illegal, nothing I can discern. But he has had investments in many places. So I thought he might be using a Sornian tactic, buying things up.


    "Jehair had planned to deliver Blackfear to the elves.


    "I think he might have known of what was happening. He would have had to to buy up all this."


    "Let me see the book," said Vanion, looking through it. "Hmm, now I remember him. He challenged Arthur to a duel for the hand of Mara Hawkthorne and was thrashed. However, he never went to war and became a financier for King Gavin, moving money from one place to another.


    "Had some excellent ideas.


    "If it came to it, an embezzlement charge could be made. I''m sure you could find a basis for it, and he did use Gavin''s money for this. He made it back, but a charge of embezzling the King''s money is whatever he wants it to be.


    "Just give the book to King Gavin and bring him your concerns.


    "I''m going to look around. I haven''t been back here in some time."


    At that moment, Aras arrived, now clad in more formal attire. Though less expensive than what Liras were wearing. It was a green cloak and brown beneath it, though Father looked the finer. "Ah, the thrower of pigs returns."


    "Please, Prince Aras, the recklessness of youth is ill-remembered," said Vanion. He had a wry smile on his face.


    What was he talking about? Raynald seemed to get a laugh out of it, though, and Vanion looked in irritation.


    "Indeed," said Aras. "You always did wear this sort of thing better. I''m pleased that it didn''t go further than it did. We have been facing an imaginary figure in the other place."


    "Not imaginary," said Vanion. "Vanion the schemer is part of who I am. He is how I became great. So to deny his part in my identity would be foolish. But you have never been my enemy, Prince Aras. And I pray you never will be."


    "Well, I''m sure we''ll have plenty to do in other areas," said Aras. "Themious is not that far away." And he looked out to sea, though William wondered if he was looking at him. And as he did, William realized he was standing alone.


    Felix was absent. Tanith was gone to her family. Massacre was gone, and he wasn''t part of the group before him. A mere observer of events and gazing out to sea, he saw no ship coming in. Only churning oceans of darkness where foul things dwelled beneath the waves. There was now nothing but an empty pier. The ship had left as soon as Sunthred had gotten off it.


    Kata and Oresa were gone, off to some other matter. And no one took any note of him. So William began to wonder if he was so different from the man he had pretended to be. Turning, he saw Lilas continuing to watch, and a smirk came across his face as if some plan had come to him.


    Ships.


    An empty pier.


    Lilas had a lot of control of ports. He could delay the departure of fleets or reassign them if he chooses to. All he''d have to do is wait for House Gabriel to be put in such a position. William supposed he could bring the records, but he doubted Gavin would execute him over that. Lilas apparently had the favor of Tanith''s mother.


    If he was indeed dead set on vengeance for whatever, there was little to do but weather the attack. Turning to Raynald, he remembered the tales of his sixteen duels. Taken on men he hated and despised, a world that had rejected and looked down on him. Raynald looked to Lilas, and their gaze met.


    Lilas smirked and walked away. Raynald''s eyes narrowed, then turned to William. He nodded and walked off with Vanion and Aras, who spoke to him as an equal.


    ''Well,'' thought William. ''Now I understand Raynald a bit better now.''


    William walked away, thinking to himself. People seemed enthusiastic, and a feast day had been declared. Moving on, William moved to the palace. Sir Merrin was there, speaking with several merchants in private. They looked of concern. As William approached, he turned.


    "Squire Gabriel," said the man. "You''re here."


    "Yes, I am, Sir Merrin," said William. "I''m here on an errand from my Father. But, first, tell me, where is the Lady Telus?"


    "With Tanith Telus and her children, of course," said Merrin.


    "Might I meet with the King?" asked William.


    The merchants looked concerned at this. William guessed they were worried about his meeting with Lilas and the book at his side.


    "Well, if you''re seeking him, he''s not here," said Merrin. "He never does his work in castles if he can avoid it; he hates them.


    "He''s never been one for finery. So I''ll take you to him.


    "Gentlemen, you need not be concerned about anything like what is happening in Antion. The roads have become very unsafe, and it is against the custom of King Gavin to punish without good reason. This applies to merchant, noble, and commoner."


    "Of course," said the men. "Thank you, Sir Merrin."


    Merrin looked to William. "I''m told you had an altercation with Lilas earlier."


    "He invited me into a brothel, and I told him I wanted to see his records," said Wiliam.


    "Well, it''s a good thing you didn''t hurt him, or we could have some problems," said Merrin. "I''ve never liked the man, but why?"


    "I saw him mistreating his workers in Ascorn," said William. "And this." He offered the book.


    Merrin took it and looked through the book carefully. "Ah.


    "I''ve never liked him. Now I know why I didn''t. Whatever Aras'' theories, you don''t get this low price on valuable goods. Not without an extensive list of contacts. One much larger than was reported." He paused. "What about this list of dead men?"


    "I found High Priest Cirithil using a legal loophole. To sell Harlenorians into slavery," said William. "He was acting the part of an apologist for putting infants on pikes. And the merchants there were playing along.


    "The satyrs went berserk and killed them all. I believe it was some sort of dark magic.


    "Cirithil is now an insane, raving lunatic, completely incapable of performing his duties. So you probably won''t notice any difference."


    Merrin laughed. "A black humor, but Cirithil is better when he is doing nothing. Follow me."


    Into the manor they went, and Merrin led William to a room where King Gavin sat at a desk writing. Outside, the sunlight was peering through the windows, and the King looked up at it longingly.


    "King Gavin?" said William, beckoned forward.


    "Please, just Gavin at present," said Gavin. "I''m trying to work out the costs of all this. The warriors had a good time, but there will be expenses. Sir Gabriel, how may I help you?"


    "King Gavin, I am concerned that a crime might have been committed," said William. "Are you familiar with a merchant named Lilas?"


    "Yes," said Gavin. "He has managed to ensure our treasury always stays full. I will admit I did not care for his company, but that is pure preference.


    "What is this about a crime?"


    Merrin offered the book, and William took it.


    "Well, the numbers here don''t seem to add up," said William. "I''ve looked over it several times. And I''ve had your son and my Father look over it as well. So there are good explanations for how these investments could make this much money.


    "The King''s Road is in disrepair, but noble privileges could make it profitable. And since nobody uses it, it could give a major advantage.


    "But I don''t believe it.


    "The road is in shambles, and Blackfear is a nightmare. All of the business these days is done around it. No one could run a farm there, especially since Neral Dinis had been powerless for some time. Arkan Lantan has forced most of the vampires into hibernation.


    "I think this money might come from something else."


    "He has a point," said Merrin, then he pointed to one page of the book and sat down. "Look here.


    "According to this, he makes more money each year. That should have been getting lower with the breakdown and law and order. Unless he is invested with factions that were gaining power."


    "You miss the more important details," said Gavin. "He is invested in the slaver operations. I have never liked slavery and have often objected to it. Lilas knows this."


    "To be fair, Gavin, he''s always paid on time, and many merchants pay tithes to us," said Merrin.


    "Yes, but if these profits are correct, I don''t think we''ve been getting nearly enough of this," said Gavin. "Have you shown anyone else this?"


    "Oresa and Kata were with me when the discussion was had, Prince Arasa and my Father," said William.


    "Well then, I''ll deal with this privately," said Gavin. "He will account for his actions, and we will determine how much he owes the crown.


    "Perhaps we could give him an invitation to the feast. Lilas would have desired prominence for some time, even if he did not like the normal means of getting it.


    "Is something wrong?"


    William halted. "Lilas has an extensive shipping empire.


    "I''m concerned he might use that to move against my house. If we were engaged and needed reinforcements by ship, a delay could be our end."


    "Lilas is not a brave man," said Gavin. "I do not think he would be so reckless or foolish."


    Well, that was more than enough to end the subject. Best not to press it.


    "There is something else," said William. "I looked at his brothels.


    "The women in them are... wrong."


    "What do you mean?" asked Gavin sharply.


    "They are all unnaturally beautiful," said William. "And they are happy. Insanely happy, in fact."


    Silence as Gavin turned to him in full.


    "How many did you see?" asked Gavin.


    "A few dozen, I think," said William. "I didn''t count."


    "A few dozen," said Merrin. "Impossible.


    "Kern rescued less than that in his entire career. And he had to stop because it was affecting his sanity. Lilas couldn''t have brought that many back from Caliph."


    "But he might have done so by proxy," said Gavin thoughtfully. "It bears thinking of.


    "William, you''ve done well. I will handle this matter and follow it up. However, our policy in matters of corruption is to lie still.


    "Will you be at the feast?"


    "Not unless you wish it," said William. "I left Felix, my servant, and friend stuck in the middle of nowhere with my armor. A community is nearby, but I''ve kept him waiting too long.


    "I''ve got to get to Gel Carn.


    "Otherwise, this entire adventure was an elaborate waste of time."


    "Best to get to it then," said Gavin, smiling. "Good luck.


    "Our Houses have been quarreling over nothing for years. I''ve missed a good friend in Duke Vanion."


    William nodded and headed out the door. As he did, he ran into Duke Vanion. Father halted.


    "William, where are you going?"


    "To Gel Carn," said William. "I have to get started right away."


    "Now?" asked Vanion. "I was hoping to discuss things and introduce you to people."


    "I''ve already been introduced," said William. "And t I left Felix by the Black Mountain guarding my armor with werewolves. I''ve got to get back to him right away. It''s been a terrible imposition on him."


    "It''d be as well to just call him back," said Vanion. "You''ve only got three days until the tournament, and you don''t have a ship. You''ll never make it."


    "Father..." said William, smiling. "I''m making a leap of faith."


    And he raced off, feeling as if some powerful music was sung about him as he did. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''ll give your regards at the victory feast!" called Father after him, fading into the distance.


    Then William sped toward the plateau''s edge and scaled-down it as he and Tanith had done before as children. Grasping at handholds he''d known for years, he dropped ten minutes'' climb in one. He reached the bottom with haste that inspired even him. He attracted the attention of onlookers. An errant breeze shot through his hair; he sprinted as the crowds seemed to part for him as he neared the dock. The sea air smelled heavenly as several rough, ready men ducked for coming. William passed them by, looking for his chance.


    There he found a ship with Arkan and Tavish crewing it alone. There was also Oresa and her men. It was just leaving the harbor, but William leaped onto it as it began to leave. And as he did, a favorable wind blew into the winds, sending it bolting away.


    "Planning to miss the feast as well?" asked Arkan.


    "Well, obviously," said William.


    "William!" called a voice.


    William looked up to see Tanith. She rushed forward, clad in a formal dress and looking very beautiful. Her blonde hair flowed behind her like the swaying trees, and she snatched his hand. Leaning forward, they held the grip as the hands were held. It was warm in his palm and a moment he wished could last forever, though wind and tide drew them apart.


    "Tanith?" asked William.


    "You didn''t think I''d let you walk out without a goodbye?" asked Tanith, face to face. "Listen, William, I can''t go with you. But I want you to know I''ll always be loyal to you.


    "No matter where you go or what you do, I''ll always be your knight."


    And for a moment, their hands were together, held as an island between the departing ship and the pier of home. Then it was broken, and the ship lurched forward with such speed. Tanith seemed to almost become a memory. She waved and shouted something as mists arose, but no sound came forward.


    Into the mists, the ship moved with haste and might as if by its own power. Arkan was not the master of it, and it seemed only a moment before the channel had passed away. Soon they entered the cover they had first set forth, and William leaped onto it. Waiting was Massacre, and he leaped atop her, and they shot away, leaving behind their comrades.


    They traveled, surging through the shadows as the sun set and the shadow of the Black Mountain grew long. Finally, it was all-consuming. Up the slopes, they moved without relent, passing by a fortress of outlaws. They were now negotiating with royal officials. And all around him, William saw a far and beautiful green country.


    The criminals were routed, and the complacent had been roused. Yet, even now, heroes and villains alike strove to grow beyond what they were. And as they descended with marvelous speed, midday came on. And William marveled at their haste and thought how he should have arrived had he gone to Gel Carn.


    Less than a week, even without divine favor.


    How long would he have waited for the tournament, as other men fought and died without his aid? Such a life was not worth living. Thus it was that he came to Isriath''s city, now renewed. Roofs had been set, Felix was consulting with several people, and some were taught music there. The sun shone down on them, and new children would come to this place.


    Blackfear, still terrible, was now not nearly so hopeless.


    Felix ran to him and offered him his armor, and William took it up and, dismounting from Massacre, dressed in it anew. Now clad as death, they went atop Massacre. And she surged onward, running all the faster. William marveled that her sheer muscle power could bear them both.


    So it was that they shot through the realm of Lord Tarsus. He found many villages recently put to order by others like Sir Frederick and Fayn. And he learned that the mines had been overgrown with man-eating plants. Yet they had withdrawn and departed with the arrest of Jehair.


    On they went through a country being put back to order. Rocks and stones and dusty slopes were no barriers to Massacre. She now took the King''s Road, the way of holiness, and surged down it. Such was the haste that it was soon put behind them, and they entered Gel Carn. He saw black dragons flying this way and that with parcels and also many new homesteads being set up. Even now, it seems the plans long put through were made. And many villages had been bolstered by new fighting men.


    But the second day passed into night, and still, they rode on. Soon they came to the river and found the ford.


    "Who are you?" called a ferryman. "If you''ve come for the Tournament of Kings, you''re too late! You''ve got less than a day! It''s three days out to there!"


    "Then we''ve more than enough time," said William. "Barden, grant us speed!"


    Massacre ran back, and William wondered at what she intended. The river before them was as wide, no, less great than Savior''s Run. Yet formidable nonetheless.


    Massacre began to sprint, running faster and faster along the ferry pier. Then as she reached the end, she leaped.


    For an instant, they were shooting over the air like a bird. And finally, they landed on the other side. Through the forests, they went, and none could bar their path. Until they emerged into sight of Gel Carn.


    William saw then the sacred place of Harlenor. The city that Anoa had founded in ancient days. Not to resurrect Sendar of old but to bring a new age. Here was where he had fought and labored to save humanity. Here was where the Kings of Old were crowned and where no man had dared invade.


    It stood as a white fortress, smaller than others. But marvelous in construction, it caught the rising sun''s light. So that as they raced toward it, their eyes were blinded by rays.


    So began the last desperate race, shooting fast over the fields toward the city''s gates. Faster and faster Massacre ran, clearing the streets like a hurricane. Yet she was touching nothing save the cobblestones. Finally, at last, they came before the tent where admissions were. Dismounting, William moved up to the man.


    "Is this the sign-in area for the Tournament of Kings?" asked William.


    "It is," said the man.


    "So be it," said William. "I intend to enter."


    "That is William Gabriel," said one William did not know in the tent.


    "He certainly makes an entrance," said a girl.


    William Gabriel entered with a chimera and a Calishan following in his footsteps. And there, William saw Varsus speaking with Reginald. Varsus was tall, blonde, and dignified, like Father but less cold. Reginald was like Raynald, but whole of body and unscarred. A sense of joy came to him, and William moved up, not looking at the others yet.


    "Varsus? It''s been years since we last saw each other," said William.


    Varsus, tall, blonde, and dignified like Father but less cold, smiled. "You have grown. What injury caused your voice to change so."


    "Oh, this," said William, remembering his helm. "Hold on." He drew off his helmet and put it under one arm. Then he spoke. "The helmet is enchanted to make me more intimidating." His voice was now normal, a proud baritone, but without the unholy rasp.


    "The glowing green eyes certainly manage that," said Varsus, smiling a bit. "I wonder if you did not overdo it."


    "It was a gift from Rusara," said William. "I didn''t want to offend her."


    Varsus looked at him. "That scar... how did you get it?"


    What scar? Oh, right, the one he''d gotten.


    "I was slashed across the eye by a demoness," said William. "It is a bit of a long story. I''m glad to see you again."


    They embraced warmly, then broke apart. "As am I," said Varsus. "You were six, I believe when last I met you. You''ve picked up strange company." His eyes looked warily to the Calishan, and Relma''s sense of dread returned.


    "Oh, Felix is quite loyal and reliable," said William. "You don''t need to fear him. We''ve been stopping to heal every village we come across throughout our journey. If he were going to betray me, he''d have done it long ago." He had been looking for an excuse to mention healing people, hadn''t he?


    Varsus shifted. "...You''ll forgive me, cousin. But I was not expecting you here. Duke Vanion gave me leave to represent House Gabriel."


    "And ordinarily, I''d leave it to you," said William. "Unfortunately, I have to fill in for Raynald. He wanted to come here, but he''s needed as a general in Khasmir. There are still raishans about and other duties to fulfill. So he wanted at least one of his students to appear.


    "I wanted Tanith to go, but it turns out she disagreed with the local lords. So that left only me. Mother also wanted to go, but my new siblings need her."


    Now to get to the mission Father had given him.


    "At any rate, there was another reason for me coming down this way," said William. "Father wanted me to deliver some news to Brisgald personally. Auga is to be granted the position of Lord of Carn Gable."


    "Auga?" asked Varsus, raising an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that Uncle was keeping Carn Gable for himself."


    "He was ruling it through Mother," said William. "But now that the entire family is focused on Artarq, he''s decided to make the move official. We need someone over in Carn Gable; we can trust to rule it.


    "Auga is smart and capable. We would have chosen you, but you''re the heir to Brisgald."


    "No offense is taken," said Varsus. "I prefer warmer climates anyway. And my younger sister is well suited for the task." That got a laugh from both of them. "How did Vorn take it?"


    "Badly," said William. "He shouted and yelled about being passed over."


    "That sounds like him," said Varsus. "Still, Uncle has always assigned positions on merit. And Vorn has little of that."


    "You do him a disservice, Varsus," said William. "He''s quite intelligent, and there are some things you''ll love to hear about."


    Varsus nodded and paused for a moment. "I hope you don''t expect an easy victory in the tournament, William."


    "Far from it," said William. "Truth be told, I don''t even expect to win. I''m a good swordsman, but it''s never been my best skill."


    It was a happy ending.


    But the problem with happy endings is that you must live long enough for them to unravel.

 Book 7: Tournament of Kings

    Well, that''s a wrap.


    Road of Chaos was exhausting to write and even more exhausting to edit. Ironically, the story was initially envisioned as a short, breather episode. The original plan was for William to travel to the Tournament of Kings. He''d have some side adventures and fight some bandits. The character of Jehair was introduced as a guide with no special plan for her. I began to write the Kata and Sokar arc in Ascon.


    Instead, what I got was a continent-spanning conspiracy by organized crime. That combined with a corrupt church. See, the problem was that the villains had to stay relevant somehow. And William''s journey was taking him across half a continent, from Artarq to Gel Carn. Over such a distance, the criminal groups mentioned in Dark Dreamer had to be very powerful. Arkan Lantan, Tavish, and Lamech were then introduced as antagonists.


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    However, as I wrote, I realized that Jehair knew everyone and was well-liked by everyone. And since she is not stupid, I realized she had to have a hand in everything. This led to the elven conspiracy in Blackfear and also the introduction of Saphra. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    All in all, this is one of the longest books I have ever written. It has also been fairly popular, thankfully. Tomorrow, we''ll begin the next book in Relma''s story. The Tournament of Kings. We''ll finally see the tournament William spent all this time trying to get to. It should be much lighter-hearted.

 Prologue: Refreshing News

    Varsus had just finished the last shipment reports when the door opened.


    Into the tapestried room stormed Reginald, who tossed his cloak onto a nearby chair. Anyone else would have been reprimanded for that; Auga would never have tolerated it. But Varsus was not Auga and had long since given up curtailing Reginald''s attitude. At the moment, Reginald''s orange hair was a mess, like always, and his scowl was more profound than usual. His hands were in his pockets as he sat down.


    He remained silent momentarily, looking out the partially open window at Brisgald beyond. The High Priest had passed through here recently and had been doing a great deal of church business. And he''d taken his share, sure enough. Arranging supplies for Khasmir had been complex. All the tools and demands for protection.


    Varsus had been forced to get creative, finding cheaper routes that only burned a little time. But they had done.


    "What is it?" asked Varsus.


    "I cannot believe we missed the entire war!" Reginald exploded. "Damn our parents for making us go through this!" Reginald was technically the uncle of Baroness De Chevlon. Though he could have been her brother. His parents were cousins to Raynald and were of little prosperity or achievement. They had had children late.


    Thus Reginald and Varsus were introduced. Vanion''s friendship with Raynald had formed a schism in House De Chevlon. One that grew with Raynald''s fame.


    "Calm yourself, Reginald," said Varsus. "We have gained valuable experience with the administration of lands."


    "Damn the administration, Varsus," said Reginald. "I want to see some action. We''ve been organizing grain shipments for months. Do you know how often I''ve had to give money for ''unexpected expenses'' to the Thieves Guild? Or the church, for that matter?


    "And that bastard Rundas just sneered at me when I asked him for help. Like I was the dirt off his shoes. I hope Raynald guts the bastard when he comes back.


    "Meanwhile, your cousin William has gotten all the glory."


    "There are many ways to serve one''s house, Reginald," said Varsus, filing away the documents. Father had always said that, but Varsus was not like Father. He had been told he took after Uncle Vanion more and began to see why that was said.


    Though Varsus was considered a much better fighter. Vanion had never been in an engagement without losing his sword.


    "Oh, come on," said Reginald. "You look me in the eye and tell me you aren''t disappointed we missed the war."


    Varsus sighed. "I cannot.


    "I admit, I wanted to prove my bravery upon the battlefield in a full-scale conflict. However, it was not Elranor''s will. So, I will content myself with finishing things here.


    "There will be another war soon enough." And when that happened, Varsus was not paying those bribes again. Something would have to be done about it, and he made a note to write to Lady Atravain and House Bailey on the subject.


    This was ridiculous.


    Harlenor was being prevented from conducting a holy crusade by its own church. There were solid gold statues in the Temple of the Gods that became more gaudy and elaborate by the day. Silver and gold were engraved on the very well. And in the meantime, people starved to death in the streets. And nobles who were actually using their time were undercut instead of aided.


    Should he write to Rius as well?


    No point; that man was an ineffectual fool and corrupt to the gills. He would probably try to use the letter to alert his criminal friends for some benefits. Something had to be done about him as well. There was news Prince Aras was out there, but Prince Aras was always out there. He was a man who was constantly traveling and rarely stayed in any one place for long.


    The silence had gone on for a bit.


    Reginald peered across the table at him. "What makes you so sure there will be another war? Calisha got what it wanted."


    Varsus shrugged as he remembered his histories. Father had always tried to cite moral lessons from them. Meanwhile, Uncle had always sought pragmatic ones. Once, Lord Arthur Gabriel had read Varsus a story;


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    It was the story of Gwendoven, Anoa, and Orson.


    Anoa the Bright had been the first and most excellent King of Harlenor, uniting the human tribes. He drove out the elves and set events that reshaped the cosmos. Not only that, but he had gone to many other worlds and was known there as a great adventurer and conquerer.


    His companions were with him: Gwendoven, Lady of Horses, and Orson, the Greatest Knight to ever live. Their achievements were legendary. That was even before Anoa became King, and Gwendoven and Anoa were eventually married.


    However, as time passed, Orson and Gwendoven became too close. Eventually, an affair between them was revealed by Anoa''s son, Anoa II. Gwendoven had fled with Orson to the castle that was now Blackfear, and Anoa had pursued. There had been a great war, and enemies of Harlenor had seen their chance to seek vengeance.


    But Anoa had won.


    Depending on who you asked, the final battle had ended with Anoa defeating Orson in single combat. Or, alternatively, shooting him in the back from behind a stone. Gwendoven had been captured in battle and burned at stake.


    After that, Anoa lost patience with his neighbors. The High Elves had organized rebellions against him. Others had come out to raid him, like the goblins and gnolls. They all had suffered terribly and lamented the days when Sir Orson was at his master''s side.


    Harlenor had done pretty well out of it all. Anoa II became a King nearly as great as his Father, though less remembered. His achievements were largely in organizing the laws and roads. Anoa had an informal style, and there had been little in the way of records from his reign. Much of what was known was known from elves who survived his rampage. They conjured the picture of a demon in human form.


    Gail Arengeth had provided certain records, however. As had Tuor, the Disciple of Baltoth, before he betrayed Harlenor. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It was interesting to note the reactions of the two.


    Father had viewed the story as a cautionary tale against succumbing to base passions. One must never allow lust to make one abandon one''s duty. Uncle had instead noted that if Orson was going to betray his King, he ought to have knifed him while his guard was down. That would have avoided a civil war, at least.


    Father had been incredulous at this. But Uncle had noted that the result was inevitable once the adultery was committed. Someone would find out, and Anoa would be enraged and burn everything down. It was just how Anoa operated. So if Orson was going to shame his knighthood and steal the King''s wife, he ought to do it properly. Just kill him before you take her and set yourself up at King.


    "Mediocre half-measures bring the worst of both worlds," Vanion had said over dinner.


    Best to kill Anoa II as well since Orson would want his own son by, Gwendoven on the throne. They were natural enemies in this. Though Uncle had added it as an afterthought, it would be better not to do it at all.


    That statement had met general agreement.


    Uncle had never liked Orson, dismissing him as an overrated scoundrel. He was one of the worst traitors in history, undeserving of his laurels. Father had embraced the romantic view of him, as had Mother. But then, Uncle didn''t like anyone from that period. The elves he considered sloppy and tyrannical, Anoa he considered wasteful and psychotic.


    To Uncle Vanion, the founding of Harlenor was a comedy of errors. A place populated by monsters who blundered around, causing ruin and menace. Eventually, they accidentally created Anoa II. And he was a good king who managed to get things running again. It was a cynical view of things born from a love of order and a hatred of unnecessary violence. And excessive violence more or less described that entire period.


    Everything had broken down. The systems set in place by Alchara failed, and the abuses became too great. The revolution arose and went too far in its retribution. Meanwhile, those trying to stop it responded in the worst possible way. Sylvar''s brutality with humanity from her raids in the Greenwood was a legend. Instead, those who could have mediated an end to things tried to use violence to settle grudges of their own.


    It was a tapestry of horrors and heroics. Beautiful and terrible, and one of those tapestries was on the wall now. This office had been the room where Varsus had heard that story.


    "Varsus, are you getting lost in your thoughts again?" asked Raynald. "I asked you a question."


    "That is the way of mortal races. We desire conflict in one form or another," said Varsus. "If the truce with Calisha holds, then the Kings of Harlenor will seek other enemies to fight. You cannot halt wars.


    "Only redirect them."


    "That''s odd," said Reginald. "Your uncle, Vanion, seems to spend most of his time trying."


    Varsus looked out the window at the courtyard below. In this very office, his uncle had uncovered a conspiracy. In one move, he''d made a fool of a powerful demon and discredited his political rivals. Not to mention, he secured himself a place as King Andoa''s most trusted lieutenant. Varsus had yet to match the feat.


    "My Uncle is not interested in world peace," he said at last. "Merely the advancement of his house, and through it, the creation of Harlenor Reunited. His method is through appealing to enlightened self-interest." Uncle had no faith in the benevolence of humankind, not like Father did. Father believed that if given a chance to do the right thing, most people would do it. And those who chose the path of evil must be allowed their choice and be pitied for it.


    Uncle, in contrast, believed that if you incentivized people to do the right thing, they might do it. Provided you had something to threaten them with to keep them in line.


    An important destinction.


    "Well, what about our self-interest?" asked Reginald. "How will we get our names out there if we''re not even near the fighting? I mean, I know we seized those shipments a few months ago. But that''s small compared to some of the battles."


    Varsus took out a letter and raised it. Reginald peered at it. "What''s that?"


    "It is an announcement," said Varsus. "Gel Carn is holding a tournament. They hope that the strongest and bravest of Harlenor will go and fight there.


    "It is of symbolic importance. And there are rumors that the Heir of Kings will be participating."


    "You mean the mystical descendant of Anoa the Bright, destined to reunite Harlenor?" asked Reginald. "I''ll believe that when I see it."


    "Be that as it may," said Varsus, "Harlenor will be paying attention to the tournaments. There is a good reason to think that every nation will send knights there. And I have received permission from my uncle to go there and represent House Gabriel."


    "That''s perfect!" said Reginald, a grin on his face. "Right, we''ll head there and win the tournament! Well, one of us will."


    "You should also seek the Baroness De Chevlon''s blessing," said Varsus.


    Reginald leaned back. "She''ll want to see this for herself. I would want to participate if it weren''t for the elders forbidding that sort of thing. I''ll speak to her about it as soon as possible.


    "Finally, a proper challenge." He stood up and stretched.


    "Just don''t become overconfident," said Varsus. "There are many fine swordsmen in Harlenor. And most of them will be at the Tournament of Kings."


    "I wouldn''t have it any other way," said Reginald, grin becoming like a shark.


    As he left the office, Varsus decided he''d had all he could bear of administrative work. Even if he would never admit it. Showing weakness was always a bad thing. He wondered what Anoa, Orson, and Gwendoven would have thought of the world they created.

 Chapter One: Heroes Return

    Ajax was in a foul mood today, despite the beautiful clear skies. But the wolf boy had never let a bad mood stop him from victory. So he continued to practice his stances with his sword, hour after hour. Unfortunately, no one else had been interested in teaching him, so Relma had to be the one to give him an understanding.


    Relma had only been practicing with a sword for over six months. So things weren''t going well. A breeze blew through the long grass near them and flowed through her golden hair and Ajax''s silver.


    "I hate this," snapped Ajax.


    "Complaining never solved anything, Ajax," said Relma. "Though if it did, you probably would have fixed every problem in the world by now."


    Ajax glanced up, his silver hair flowing behind him as he snarled. "How can mortals fight like this? Just practicing stances and rehearsing moves. Like I''m learning to dance."


    "What did you think we did to learn to fight?" asked Relma, curious.


    "I fight using the berserk fury of my heritage," said Ajax. "The instinct and powers ingrained within me from birth allow me to tear my foes apart easily. I have the blood of the Alpha in me, after all."


    "That''s nice," said Relma. Ajax had told her about the Alpha, and she''d read a bit. It was a werewolf belief in a deity that had taken on the form of a human peasant and fed itself willingly to five wolves. Each wolf then gained kinship to humanity and the intellect and strength that came with it. "Unfortunately, we mere mortals don''t have instincts on that level. So you''ll just have to learn to fight like everyone else who doesn''t have a heritage." Ajax looked at her in surprise. Then he narrowed his eyes. Relma shifted beneath his gaze. "What?"


    "You are the last person in the world to say that," said Ajax, lowering his sword.


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "You are the Heir of Kings. The last descendant of Anoa the Bright" said Ajax. "You are literally wearing the sword of a god at your side. Until you have a child or kill Baltoth, destiny will conspire to ensure you survive."


    Relma glanced down to Lightning Trail. It didn''t look like the sword of a god at the moment. If she had to pick two words, they would be aggressively ordinary. But then, that was the point, wasn''t it?


    What was all that about her being destined to survive, though? "I don''t think it works that way," said Relma after a moment. "I think if I did something really stupid, I would get killed. Aunt Pan wouldn''t be so protective of me if I were immune to everything."


    Ajax shrugged. "Prophecies always come true. At best, you can twist them to fulfill the letter of the prediction while ignoring the intent. That''s one of the reasons father broke up with Baltoth. He didn''t want to end up on the losing side."


    "Well yeah, but how do we really know that I am the last descendant?" asked Relma, lowering her sword. "Maybe Anoa had a mistress who was written out of the history books. Or maybe Anoa''s reincarnation had a family, and they count as well. Or maybe Anoa could return from heaven and sire new descendants."


    "Yes, but the prophecy also states that they will reunite Harlenor," said Ajax. "A descendant of a mistress no one knows about would never actually be able to get any support. It''s the same for reincarnation and for returning from heaven...


    "When was the last time anybody in Harlenor saw an angel?"


    Relma thought about all her lessons with Aunt Pan. She searched through her memories for any mention of angels. Everyone knew angels existed, of course. They were natural counterparts to demons and spirits. But she couldn''t think of a time they appeared.


    "...Um, never," she said at last.


    Ajax shook his head, sending his silver hair flowing around him. "A long time ago. Father fought with one once, but they rarely involve themselves."


    "Why do you think that is?" asked Relma. She had her own ideas, but she was curious about his reasons.


    "How should I know?" asked Ajax with a shrug. "Most gods have some kind of immortal servant who leads their armies. But Elranor is much more hands-off.


    "He''s doing something right, given that he remains the dominant power in this region of the world."


    "I think Elranor wants people to make choices for themselves," said Relma. She remembered the last time she saw Elranor and how reasonable he''d been. Having angels coming in and leading the armies would interfere with that.


    "I don''t know," said Ajax. "But-" Suddenly, he sniffed up at the air. His eyes narrowed, and he sheathed his sword. His clawed hands were bared.


    "What is it, you smell?" asked Relma.


    "Estela," said Ajax. "She''s coming up the path ahead."


    Estela was back? Relma felt a surge of happiness at that news. "I''m going to go meet her."


    "Go right ahead," said Ajax.


    He turned and stalked off into the woods.


    Shortly after that, Estela came around the bend. Her dark hair had been cut short in several places. Her armor was chipped and dented in several places, and her cloak was shredded. She looked up as Relma approached and blinked before Relma hugged her.


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    The effect of the hug was diminished by the armor. Ow.


    "Estela!" said Relma. "You''re back from the war! What happened?"


    Estela sighed. "The war is over, and we are victorious." However, she didn''t sound very enthusiastic.


    "So you beat the Calishans?" asked Relma.


    "No," said Estela before walking past.


    Relma ran after her. Why was she in such a bad mood? "Wait, but you said you won."


    "We were winning," said Estela. "We had the entire army right where we wanted it. Then Duke Vanion had tea with their leader, King Banir, and released him and the entire army. So instead of pressing the attack, we sent the Calishans on their merry way." She sighed. "It was probably for the best. The Calishans were almost a sideshow compared to Wraith.


    "Maybe he knew he was coming."


    "Whose Wraith?" asked Relma.


    "Laughing Wraith. Ancient, unknowable, demon thing," said Estela, raising one hand dismissively. "I don''t know; I didn''t quite get it. He screwed up our defenses right before the Calishans attacked. Also, he hurt a lot of people for fun.


    "Baltoth was using him as a distraction so we could catch his armies. So the whole thing ended in a stalemate."


    "Okay," said Relma. "So, um, what did you win?"


    "We won the war right after that," said Estela. "There was this huge invasion of snake things with scythes for arms. Someone called them raishans. They fell out of the sky in Khasmir and started killing people.


    "No plunder though, demons don''t need money."


    Relma tried to remember her geography classes. "Khasmir, that''s north of Artarq, isn''t it?"


    "Yes," said Estela. "We got a call for help and followed it. It turned out that an evil sorcerer summoned them into Khasmir to destroy his enemies. He was called Karasush."


    "So you killed the sorcerer," guessed Relma.


    "No, we killed the raishans," said Estela. "Then we made a treaty with the sorcerer, and he got off with a stern warning. That one wasn''t due to Vanion; he wasn''t there. It was his son."


    "You mean William Gabriel?" said Relma. She''d read his book recently and hadn''t thought it was all that great. However, Arengeth had given her a copy. "What was he like?"


    "I only saw him once or twice," admitted Estela. "He was dressed in black armor with a helmet like a skull. Also, Tanith was there. They got on great." Her voice went dark.


    "Tanith?" asked Relma. What had she been scheming there? sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes," said Estela. "I''d have loved to dispense some justice, but it wasn''t my territory. I wasn''t going to kill a friend of the reigning Lord without a good reason."


    "But couldn''t you have told someone?" asked Relma.


    "I did tell Raynald De Chevlon about it," said Estela. "Tanith simply denied it. And since she was his student, he believed her."


    "But couldn''t we do something about this? We could provide proof about what she did," asked Relma.


    "Even if we could provide proof, Tanith is the daughter of Edmund Telus," said Estela. "One of the most influential friends of Duke Vanion in Haldren. Who are we? Gel Carn might have been Harlenor United''s capital once, but you''re a backwater now.


    "Steward Benarus is a vassal of King Andoa in all but name. You don''t have nearly enough respect to warrant that kind of attention. And you don''t have any weight to throw around." Relma needed help figuring out how to continue this discussion. Finally, she decided to change the subject. "Where are Ronald and Frederick?"


    "They should be coming up behind me soon enough," said Estela. "Frederick stopped to fight it out with a knight who insulted a lady. I think."


    Best to change the subject. "So, how did you do in the war?"


    "Fairly well," said Estela. "I wasn''t commended for bravery like De Cathe. And I spent more getting to Artarq than I made with my pay. But if nothing else, I can say I''ve seen combat.


    "Honestly, the whole thing was a wash regarding material gain. I didn''t even make enough to repair my armor."


    "So, you regret going?" asked Relma. She hoped not. Estela had spent months out there.


    Estela gave her a grin. "Not at all."


    As they walked along the road, Relma considered what else to ask. There were a lot of things she wanted to know about the north. But then, she ought to inquire as to the others first. "So what about Argath? Any news of him?"


    "The last time I saw him, he was heading north to Estal," said Estela. "He was going to begin his raids against Calisha. That was months ago. He didn''t seem very happy about it."


    "Then why did he do it?" asked Relma.


    "He serves Steward Benarus," said Estela, shrugging. "Benarus wanted to prove that Gel Carn was a power in its own right. Argath is the best tactician he has, so he sent him raiding whether Argath liked it or not didn''t matter.


    "I heard he burned several Calishan villages. Though the Calishans hit Antion from the Sea of Power to the east. They gave as good as they got."


    Relma didn''t really like this discussion. Neither did she like how Estela was condescending toward her realm of birth. "I just thought of something.


    "What is it?" asked Estela.


    "If Gel Carn is a backwater, then what does it say about you, a Princess of Escor, that you were sent here?" asked Relma.


    "That House Vortegex needs all the help it can get if you must know," said Estela. "House Stomstrike has been looking to overthrow us for a long time."


    "What kind of name is Stormstrike?" asked Relma.


    "A pretentious one," said Estela. "A bunch of silver dragon worshippers. Where has Ajax gone off to, anyway? I saw his tracks nearby when I was passing.


    "Why is he roaming free?"


    "Yeah, um, one of the conditions of the treaty with Telix was that Ajax be allowed to walk freely," said Relma. "He''s sworn to do no harm to any person in Gel Carn. Aunt Pan wanted to make a necklace that keeps him in line, but, well..."


    "What?" said Estela.


    "Telix wouldn''t stand for it," said Relma. "I don''t really blame him, to be honest. It would be like forcing him to wear a collar."


    "I''m gone for a few months, and you give a half-demon the run of Gel Carn," muttered Estela.


    "It wasn''t my decision," said Relma.


    "I''m sure it''s somehow your fault," said Estela.


    "Hey!" said Relma.


    "I''m joking, obviously," said Estela. "Come on, let''s get something to eat. I''m famished for anything but rations. The roads were insane and took way too long."


    As they rounded the bend, they came within sight of Gel Carn. When Relma first came before it, it seemed like some castle out of legends, with exaggerated colors and shining spires. Since that time, it had changed to something more down to earth. She''d spent too much time around it for her awe to be the same. It was odd how things changed.


    "Estela?" said Relma.


    "Yes?" asked Estela.


    "Will you be fighting in the Tournament of Kings?" asked Relma.


    "What tournament?" asked Estela.


    It looked like Relma would have to do some explaining of her own.

 Chapter Two: The Nature of Greatness

    Relma and Estela did not enter Gel Carn at once; they had someone to meet on the way. So instead, they stopped by a large house that stood just outside the walls. It was surrounded by a large, well-made fence with a grown garden. Aunt Pan was in the front yard, painting runes. She''d never liked dwelling in the castles, so Relma had to live outside. She wore simple brown robes, and her dark hair fell around her majestically as always.


    Despite her simple garb, she looked rather like a Princess or Queen.


    Relma actually didn''t mind this; stone walls had terrible insulation. And all the servants made her feel awkward. Especially when Steward Benarus had suggested they become permenant honored guests. Yes, Relma wanted to be king of Harlenor Reunited, but she didn''t want the gold and jewels, so to speak.


    It was the power to help people that appealed to her.


    Aunt Pan''s canvases were leather pieces, and she did not look up at once as they came. Pan finished her work with a look of concentration. Then she looked at them. "So you''ve returned at last, have you, Estela?"


    "Yes," said Estela.


    "Did you learn anything worthwhile?" asked Aunt Pan.


    Estela considered it. "Possibly."


    "Well, then the war might not have been a complete waste," said Pan. "Relma, I see you''ve come back also."


    "Yes, Aunt Pan," said Relma. "Um, did Ajax come through here?"


    "No," said Pan. "I thought he was with you."


    "Why were you spending time with Ajax?" asked Estela.


    "I''ve been teaching him swordplay," said Relma.


    "Well then, I''m sure he''ll end up dead if he ever tries to fight with a sword," said Estela with a sigh.


    "Hey, I''ve gotten a lot better," said Relma.


    "You''ve lost every fight you''ve ever been in," said Estela.


    "You lost to Ajax too," said Relma, looking away. "And the first one, I didn''t even have a sword."


    "Fine, fine," said Estela. "Lady Pandora, Relma tells me there will be a tournament here. Is that true?"


    "Yes," said Aunt Pan. "Argath Marn''s raids have provided Gel Carn with an influx of money. Benarus is using this as a chance to draw attention here. There have been several invitations so far. I''m surprised you didn''t hear about it."


    "We took a route through the wilderness on our way here," said Estela. "We must have missed it."


    "Ah, yes. The wilderness," said Pan. Her eyes became far away. "There is a lot of that in Southern Antion these days."


    "Is something wrong, Aunt Pan?" asked Relma.


    "I just remembered how it used to be. There used to be villages and castles all across that area," said Pan, a sad smile coming to her face. "You couldn''t walk a mile without coming to a farmstead of some kind."


    "What happened?" asked Estela, looking interested.


    "Many things," said Pan with a sigh. "Most of them Baltoth''s fault. King Anoa IX died in an ambush. There was a great civil war that ravaged the land. The Withering called forth undead. A demonic invasion swept into the southern reaches. Over many years, the area was depopulated.


    "Now it is just Southern Antion. This place used to be the heart of Harlenor."


    Relma shifted. "I''ll rebuild it someday, Aunt Pan," she promised.


    "Stop making promises you can''t keep, Relma," said Aunt Pan in a tired tone. "It would take generations to repopulate these lands. And Laevian would never allow it." She looked at the rune she''d been working on. "Wonderful, I made one of the marks wrong. I''ll have to scrap the whole project."


    "What?" said Relma. "But that one looks good."


    "I am devoted to quality in my work," said Pan. "If this rune fails, my client will complain to his family and friends. They''ll never buy from me again." She moved with one hand, and the rune melted away into nothingness. "Waste of good ink.


    Estela cleared her throat. "At any rate, I''d like to enter this tournament if I can."


    "Well, you''d have to be a knight to do that," said Relma. "Though, given where you''ve been, I could see you being knighted. Assuming you did well.


    "You did do well, didn''t you?"


    "I stood my ground and killed several raishans," said Estela. "Also, two Calishans."


    "How unfortunate for them," said Pan. "I really do have to finish this rune."


    "What is it for? asked Estela.


    "A blacksmith is concerned that fairies are getting into his stores," said Pan.


    "Aren''t fairies pained by iron?" asked Estela.


    "Yes," said Pan. "I did warn him that it was unlikely, but it''s his choice to purchase my services. And once I''ve given my warning, who am I to complain?"


    "Couldn''t you just kill the fairies?" asked Estela.


    Relma looked up in shock. Why would Estela suggest something like that? Pan looked on with irritation. "No, there aren''t many left. You can thank Relma''s ancestor, Anoa the Bright, for all that."


    "What did he do?" asked Estela.


    "Well, the fairy''s as a race was always close with the elves," said Aunt Pan. "They exist between the physical and the spiritual realm. Thanks to their alliance, the fairies were always talking with the spirits. As a result, they ensured that humanity could not get the food they needed to increase in population. And also that those who rebelled against the elves could not get food at all.


    "Trees would draw back from rebels'' hands, and water would recede when they tried to drink. It ensured starting a rebellion incredibly difficult."


    "Why would they do that?" asked Relma.


    "The elves regarded humanity as a tolerated blight on the environment," said Pan. "They admitted that humans had a right to exist but were ridged in ensuring they got no further.


    "Not that it did any good against Anoa."


    "What did he do?" asked Relma.


    "When trees would not bear him fruit, he hacked them down and used them to fuel forest fires. When the rivers refused to quench his thirst, he had his men drink the blood of horses. Then he threw the bodies into the rivers," said Pan before catching their blank look. "Horses were a breed of swift creatures that lived on the plains of Escor. Elves rode them into battle, similar to the halfling wolves.


    "The elves had made pacts with them so that they would never help any other race. Anoa attempted to make an alliance with them several times. But they always stayed true to their oaths.


    "So Anoa killed them all and ate them. He had a policy of never leaving a living enemy behind him."


    "Well, he was our greatest king for a reason," said Estela.


    "But what about the fairies?" asked Relma.


    "Anoa hated them especially," said Pandora. "Their casual outlook on others suffering infuriated him. You see when he was twelve, he had a scuffle with an elven boy who attacked him and sent him packing. The elf was chided and sent to bed without supper.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "Anoa was sentenced to go without food for a month. All of the spirits were forbidden from helping him in the region. Anoa''s response was to walk out of the province to find someone that would help him. While he was traveling, looking for food, fairies made jokes at his expense.


    "So he made common cause with a fire spirit and burned the place to the ground. A deer was caught by a falling tree, and he killed it, before eating his fill amidst the flames.


    "That was the story he told me when I tried to convince him not to wipe out the entire species. Anoa was hundreds of years old at the time, and he had a mindset that he was a representative of humanity as a whole. If something had happened to him, clearly, it would have happened to many other people. So individual injustices dealt to him became justifications for mass slaughter. All on an unprecedented scale.


    "Gwendovan and Orsen were the only people who could talk sense into him."


    "Did he solve any of his problems without purging a species?" asked Relma.


    "Well, at one point," said Pan, "there was a famine in a region of Escor. Merchants from other lands were gouging the local populace for the food they so needed. And local lords in surrounding lands were doing nothing.


    "Anoa sent them a letter to all the local lords telling them to behave. Just as humans ought to other humans or ''suffer his extraordinary displeasure.'' Just that.


    The lords quickly arranged for the excess harvest to be sent to aid them free of charge. No one wanted to find out what Anoa was like when extraordinarily displeased. So the famine passed, and peace was restored."


    "Violence was his answer to everything, wasn''t it?" asked Relma.


    "It was a different time," said Pan. "Anoa was loved by humanity. He made them the dominant power in Harlenor and drove out all their enemies. He then did exactly the same thing to those enemies that they were doing to his people.


    "Unfortunately, elves, fairies, and dragons don''t repopulate as quickly as humans."


    "What about the goblins?" asked Estela.


    Pan sighed. "Those Anoa wiped out just in case."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "Anoa was paranoid as well as brutal. He believed that the humans defeated the elves thanks to superior numbers. And he was afraid the goblins could do the same to humans. If they ever organized, that is," said Pan. "So he took steps to destroy them all.


    "As far as I know, he succeeded.


    "But to get back on the point, Estela, I think you stand a decent chance at getting knighted in time for the tournament."


    "What about me?" asked Relma.


    "Relma, you didn''t even go to Khasmir," said Pan, looking at her in surprise.


    "Because you refused to let me go!" said Relma.


    "Estela has years of training under her belt," said Pan. "Ronald was the squire of Sir Frederick. You were neither. It would be murder sending you out there into battle."


    "Well, I still retrieved Lightning Trail!" said Relma.


    "Relma, you only just began training with the sword a few months ago," said Estela. "What makes you think you''re qualified to fight there?"


    "Hey, I''ve gotten a lot better," said Relma.


    "Not better enough, I''m afraid, dear," said Pan, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Train for a year or two, and then we''ll talk about going into battle."


    Estela stretched her neck. "Come on, Relma. Why don''t you show me how your skills have advanced. If nothing else, it will make me look good to crush you."


    "You might be surprised," said Relma.


    Estela led Relma away to a field just outside the house. There she drew her sword and flourished it. "So, who is the Master of Arms at this point?"


    Relma drew the blade. "To be honest, most of the fighting men went off in the second wave to Artarq. The castle has been downright empty lately. It''s why I figured I''d live with Aunt Pan."


    "So, who is the Master of Arms?" asked Estela.


    "That would be me." said a voice.


    Estela shuddered and saw an ordinary-looking man walking out of the woods. He went clad in black clothes and had dark hair to the neck and a slight beard. Estela narrowed her eyes. "Davian? How do you do that?"


    "Do what?" asked Davian.


    "Appear just out of nowhere when no one is looking," said Estela.


    "If no one was looking, how could you know from where and when I appeared?" asked Davian. Estela met his gaze. Davian stared back. Eventually, she looked away. "So you''re the Master of Arms? What are you doing out here?"


    "In the sense that I am responsible for overseeing the remaining troops. And also the distribution of weapons," said Davian. "As for what I am doing out here, I am talking with you."


    "But... I always thought you were Benarus'' footman!" said Estela.


    "I fulfill many essential duties for the castle of Gel Carn," said Davian. "Usually when no one else may do so. Here is the sword you wanted, Relma? Lightning Trail really shouldn''t be used for spars."


    He drew a blade and tossed it to her. Relma caught it in her hands. "But I didn''t even ask for one yet."


    "I heard you talking," said Davian. "Estela, I should be on your guard. Relma has advanced greatly over the past few months."


    "I''ve been to war, Davian. I think I can fend for myself," said Estela. "Heir of Kings or no."


    Davian smiled. "As you say. You''d best put Lightning Trail aside. It would not be due for it to be damaged."


    Relma doubted that Lightning Trail could be damaged. But she obeyed anyway. When she was in Gel Carn, Relma had begun to suspect that Davian was not human. He appeared in places without warning and unnerved everyone he spoke with. Even Steward Benarus.He had command over guards. But no one ever saw those guards. Relma had the feeling he wasn''t exactly human. Probably a spirit or something bound to Gel Carn.


    Either way, she took her stance across from Estela. Estela took a low guard. Then they clashed. Relma went on the offensive at once. She repeatedly slashed at Estela, and Estela yielded ground in surprise. Within moments she nearly fell from her feet. Then Relma lost her momentum, and Estela struck back.


    In the next few moments, Relma was forced to give ground. She tried to slip around Estela''s guard. But she overextended, and Estela motioned with her wrist. Relma''s sword flew from her hand and landed with the point down in the dirt.


    Estela motioned to it, and Relma picked it up.


    "How did you get so good so quickly?" asked Estela.


    "I''ve been practicing a lot," said Relma.


    "For a few months," said Estela, sounding a bit offended. "I''ve been training with weapons my entire life!"


    "I guess..." Relma paused. "I guess it just came naturally. I''ve heard that if you were really good at something in a past life and learned it in another, you pick it up more easily."


    Estela took a stance. "Maybe. Let''s go again."


    Relma did so. For a moment, they paused. Then Estela lunged. Relma deflected several strikes, only to have her sword beaten down. A blade was at her throat. "Wow, Estela, that was... how do you move so quickly?"


    "I picked up a few things while in Khasmir," said Estela, stepping back. "You''ve got a long way to go before you''re anywhere near my level."


    This was at least partially bluster. Relma was much closer to Estela than Estela would like to admit, wasn''t she? "Do you think I could make it in the tournament, though? If I were able to enter?"


    Estela walked on, with Relma trailing behind. "No. You''d embarrass yourself. And don''t even think about sneaking through. You know as well as I that your Aunt Pan would spot you a mile away.


    "And this time, Arengeth isn''t around to bail us out."


    "Right," said Relma. Estela had said that too quickly.


    She let herself trail behind Estela and went to get Lightning Trail back. Davian had disappeared, as usual. But, as she sat down on a stone and looked at Lightning Trail, a shadow was cast over her. She looked up and saw Anoa the Bright. "Hello, Relma."


    He was different somehow. He was clad in a white tunic and pants. His hair was cut shorter, and he was sitting cross-legged in front of her. Even sitting, he was taller than her, though.


    "Anoa?" asked Relma. "When did you get here?"


    "I''ve always been here, if you must know," said Anoa. "Though not always in the same form." Relma peered at him. Something was different. About his posture. His expression. His face seemed to radiate light, and his hair was brighter, almost shining gold. But it was all on the surface. "You seem a bit different."


    "How so?" he inquired, smiling. It was not a pleasant smile.


    "I don''t know, I mean, you''re a bit more outwardly fair," said Relma.


    "No doubt with inner malice." laughed Anoa. "That''s natural. The more you learn history, the more you realize there are no perfect heroes. You''ve seen beneath the facade of perfection, and so you perceive me differently."


    "That was what I guessed," said Relma. "I never got a chance to thank you for guiding us back then. If you hadn''t come along, we''d have never found Lightning Trail."


    "Probably not," said Anoa. "But then, if things had gone poorly, I''d have accidentally led you to your death. In retrospect leading you to the cave of a powerful ogre sorcerer was not my best judgment call." His gaze turned to Lightning Trail. "Not my worst, though." S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What was your worst?" asked Relma.


    "I have enough contenders to fill a thousand books," said Anoa. "History tends to be determined more by mistakes than success. But, as a great man, it is only fair I have my share of them.


    "But enough of this.


    "You want to enter the Tournament of Kings, don''t you?"


    "Yes," said Relma. "Of course, but Aunt Pan-"


    "Has only your best interests at heart, I''m sure," said Anoa. "But I''ve always believed that failing is the best way to learn. The man who fails a thousand times is better than the man who never tries."


    "I guess I could wait for the next tournament," noted Relma.


    "I suppose you could," said Anoa.


    He looked at her. Relma met his gaze, tinged with amusement. She realized he was waiting for her. He wanted her to make the first move. "...Do you have a way I can participate in the Tournament of Kings?"


    "But of course, milady," said Anoa, rising to his feet. "I''m surprised you had to ask. If you wish, I can disguise you so that even Pandora would not notice you. Of course, you''ll need a suit of armor, but I''m sure I can arrange for that."


    "How?" asked Relma.


    Anoa smiled. "There are many ancient treasure troves throughout this land. Places where I hid valuables in times long past. I will take you to one such place.


    "Follow me, and I will get you armor."


    "Right, I''ll just finish my chores, and then we can go," said Relma. "I have some things I have to do before I can go."


    "Whenever you want," said Anoa. "Just remember to bring bags."


    Relma had a bad feeling about this. But how else was she going to get into the tournament? And she also felt that Anoa was something more or less than what he appeared. She wanted to know the truth.

 Chapter Three: Living Legends

    They walked together into the wilderness, and Relma kept a hand near Lightning Trail. The trees above them were thin and beautiful. They were white-barked with low-hanging branches she''d climbed with Ronald in the old days. But soon, they entered the darker parts of the forest. The trees became thicker, and the light came through the leaves less. As they did, Anoa looked more and more on edge. It was as if something was hurting him, but he was trying to hide it. Relma wondered what it was. Some inner conflict or spiritual attack?


    She supposed that Anoa would be subjected to those now and then. On the other hand, Relma doubted all he did was sit around and wait for the descendant. He probably had important responsibilities from Elranor. But it did not seem right to ask him about them now.


    But what was the conflict? The sword? It was his sword. He was the first to wield it.


    "Come quickly," said Anoa. "We have little time to waste. We don''t want anyone to get suspicious, do we?"


    Relma decided enough was enough. "...Anoa, can I ask you something?" S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What is it?" asked Anoa.


    "Something is different about you," said Relma. "It''s not just your appearance."


    Anoa sighed, and his appearance shifted, looking more human. It was difficult to describe exactly what had changed. It was something about how he carried himself. "That is to be expected. You see when we first met, my mind was somewhat divided."


    "Divided?" asked Relma.


    "As an ascended being, I exist outside of this material plane," said Anoa. "During our first encounter, I underwent an assault on my spirit. It left my mind somewhat... changed. "Since then, I have pulled myself together."


    "Who launched the attack?" asked Relma curiously.


    Anoa remained silent for a long moment. As if considering his answer. But why would he feel the need to consider it? Was he reluctant to tell her? Or was he tailoring the story like she had when getting caught doing something naughty as a child? "...I really shouldn''t be telling you this. But I suppose there is no harm in warning you. The machinations of Duke Vanion Gabriel run very deep. It was through one of his agents that I was brought to harm."


    Duke Vanion Gabriel. That was a name Relma had heard a lot lately, even this far south. He was growing in power. Aren and Aunt Pan disliked him. But to attack Anoa the Bright? "What? But how could he-"


    "Vanion does not regard anything as sacred," said Anoa, looking somewhat cornered. "To him, the gods are but kings to be toppled. I''m afraid that if he is not stopped, he may eventually come to rule over Antion. And from there, he may seek to bind the other Harlenorian Kingdoms to his will.


    "He would create Harlenor Reunited in his own image. Ignoring the intent of the prophecy." Why did Anoa fear Vanion Gabriel? Surely Vanion was only one of many nobles and an outsider. How could such a person take control of Antion in one lifetime? Maybe he is marrying into it, but that would be his son. Vanion was already married to an Amazon; Aunt Pan had told her that much. That was not an arrangement you could break.


    Was he really that dangerous?


    Relma nodded. "Well, I''ll stop him if it comes to that." He wasn''t telling her something, but she didn''t want him to know that she knew.


    Anoa smiled and ruffled her hair. It felt good, and Relma wondered if her Father or Mother would have done this had they lived. "You may look at that. That is why I want you to fight in this tournament. I believe the best way to stop Vanion is to speed up Elranor''s schedule. If the Heir of Kings comes into her own early, then Vanion won''t be able to become King of Antion."


    "Does Elranor agree?" asked Relma suddenly.


    Anoa flinched. His eyes darted to the sword, then away. "As you can no doubt attest, Elranor is nothing if not respectful of the will of the individual. He allows his agents to serve him in whatever way they deem best. He likes to provide only occasional oversight from the sidelines.


    "It is both his greatest strength and his greatest weakness." He started walking, and Relma walked with him. "Either way, should you win the tournament, it will spread your name throughout the land. You will have a great deal more credibility. And that will help you in claiming your rightful inheritance."


    So Anoa and Elranor disagreed on methods?


    "What if I lose?" said Relma. "Won''t that discredit me?"


    "That is why you will enter the tournament in disguise," said Anoa. "Wear a helmet that conceals your face, and I will devise a spell to conceal you. Then, if you are defeated, none will know it was the Heir of Kings.


    "While if you are victorious, you may throw off your helm after being proclaimed the victory. Then, in one move, you will spread your renown far and wide. In this region, at least." He paused. "All creatures face a choice at some point, Relma. You can try to win. Or you can let someone else try for you. Only the former path leads to greatness.


    "Here we are."


    Before they were large hillocks. It was covered in a green turf and trees had grown around it. Was there some kind of secret passage?


    "I don''t see anything," said Relma.


    Stolen story; please report.


    "Of course, you don''t," said Anoa with a laugh. "You don''t expect caches to remain untouched for thousands of years without being hidden?"


    "Was it really thousands of years?" asked Relma. A lot could happen in that time.


    "It was a large number," said Anoa. "Harlenor is not fond of specific dates, and I have no memory of them. I was merely being poetic. Our calendar is a very loose one compared to other worlds.


    "You''ve been to other worlds?" asked Relma.


    "Many," said Anoa. "But I won''t be talking about that.


    "Open wheat."


    "Open wheat?" asked Relma. That was the most ridiculous password she''d ever heard.


    Anoa looked at her and shrugged. "When I made this cache, I wanted something easy to remember but hard to guess. So I''d keep a bit of wheat on me when I was walking.


    "And wheat is important. It''s a good way to feed your people. If a King is failing to feed his populace, that King has failed completely."


    "It doesn''t seem to be opening?" noted Relma.


    Anoa paused. Then he snapped his fingers. "...Oh, right."


    "What is it?" asked Relma.


    "The language has changed," said Anoa. "I''ll need to speak it in the old tongue of Harlenor." He spoke something. It was a harsh tongue that hurt Relma''s ears to listen to. It seemed like a great language for threatening people. As he spoke, the side of the hillock suddenly fell inward to reveal a great stone door. The door slid aside to reveal a dark cave beyond.


    "There we go. The doors are opened now-" began Anoa.


    And then two gray snakelike creatures, only with legs, rushed out of the entrance. Relma quickly scrambled up a tree as they snapped and snarled. They had crests on their heads and breathed smoke from their nostrils. Their clawed hands left no marks on the roots.


    Anoa blinked, staying where he was. "Oh right, the dragons."


    "Dragons?!" asked Relma.


    "Well, not really dragons, more imitations," said Anoa. "They were created in the image of gold dragons. Aren made them for me."


    "Well, how am I supposed to get past them?" said Relma, drawing Lightning Trail.


    One of the beasts scaled up the tree, but she whacked it on the snout. She didn''t feel any force, and she thought she''d missed it. But it fell backward and hit the ground. There was a crack on its snout, but it healed in moments.


    "Not really sure," admitted Anoa, looking in interest. "To be honest, it has been a very long time since I''ve been here. It may be some kind of secret test."


    Flames were unleashed from their mouths, covering the underbrush. Clouds of smoke rose around her. Relma climbed higher to avoid the heat. Though it wasn''t as hot as she thought it would be.


    "Some test!" said Relma. "They''re trying to burn me alive!"


    "Please don''t demean your heritage, Relma," said Anoa. "Calm down, look, and think." Relma looked at the dragons. Then she looked at the underbrush that had caught fire. She remembered the heat from the forest fire Ronald had started in the wolven forest. But she felt none of that. Neither was she choking on the smoke.


    "...The fire isn''t actually burning anything," she realized.


    Taking a chance, she climbed down. The dragons breathed fire at her, but it passed her by. She felt nothing beneath it. Then they faded away. At the mouth of the cave, she could see two dragon statues rearing on their hind legs. But they were still as stone.


    "Precisely," said Anoa. "This was a stopgap measure to scare robbers off. I expect a magical signal has been sent to Gel Carn''s inner sanctum, telling them the door has been opened."


    "What? But this has to be secret!" said Relma.


    "Don''t worry. No one has been in my inner sanctum for years," said Anoa. "Even if the signal still works, I doubt anyone will understand it.


    "Now, quickly into the cache."


    He and Relma walked into the cache. Within, she found treasure, lots and lots of treasure. Gold and silver piled higher than she was tall. Valuable weapons and equipment were all over the place. She found her jaw drop. "Elranor above. Where did... how did you get all of this?"


    "I stole it," said Anoa.


    Relma stared at him. He gave her an unapologetic look. "Don''t give me that look. I stole it from elves who wanted to wipe the human race out. And they wouldn''t have been able to get any use from it anyway. They were running for their lives into the east."


    "You don''t really live up to your own legend?" asked Relma. Finally, his black sense of humor landed, despite her own efforts.


    "No one lives up to their own legend," said Anoa. "Especially Kings. Now you''d best fill your bags with gold as quickly as possible. I don''t like leaving the doors open like this."


    Relma took out the bags and began to fill them as much as she could. Then Anoa sighed. "No, not that full. You''ll break them. And you won''t be able to carry that much."


    Relma nodded and picked up what looked to be a solid gold plate. "Not that either," said Anoa. "It isn''t nearly as valuable as it looks. You''ll want that one." He pointed to a different plate that looked no more or less valuable.


    "How do you know so much about things'' value?" asked Relma.


    "My mother was a metalsmith of luxury items for the elves," said Anoa. "And the husband of a god. I kept up the habit."


    "Wait, you worked for the elves?" asked Relma.


    "There was a condescending portion of the elven nations. They kept human servants," said Anoa. "Rather than wipe them out, they pretended to help them. Lord Feanor was the most insufferable of the lot."


    "Ah," said Relma, continuing to pick objects of value. "So, how did you end up turning against them?"


    "An elven king heard that one of the people in my village had made jokes at his expense," said Anoa. "So he burned it to the ground. To this day, I don''t know if it is true. There was hardly even any outrage. Although, the outrage wasn''t enough.


    "Or perhaps my mother was killed for disappointing the master." Anoa paused. "Perhaps both? Memories are like legends. They shift and change with time."


    "How did you survive?" asked Relma. That was very different from what she''d heard before. Did the stories connect somehow?


    "Elranor helped me escape," said Anoa. "And set me on the path to vengeance.


    "Anyway, I killed that king''s entire family. Well, most of it. And most of his species. I destroyed all records of his existence and burned down everything he''d built. So I am content with how things turned out.


    "My only regret is that I wasn''t able to kill his daughter."


    "Who was she?" asked Relma, not liking this conversation.


    "Harlenorians today know her as Queen Dawn," said Anoa sadly. "You shouldn''t take any more. Remember, you''ll have to carry the rest back."


    Relma nodded. "Right. Thank you."


    She could have made a self-righteous speech about how what Anoa had done was wrong. But she hadn''t lived during those times, so she wasn''t inclined to judge. Besides, it wouldn''t have made a difference.


    As they walked out, however, she felt like she should say something. "Anoa?"


    "Yes," said Anoa.


    "I don''t think you were a very good person in life," said Relma, deciding not to beat around the bush.


    Anoa sighed. "Kings don''t have that luxury."


    For the first time, Relma wondered if she wanted to be King. Then she thought of all that glory and power and decided it would all be worth it.

 Chapter Four: Burying Treasure

    Anoa disappeared shortly afterward; she didn''t notice when it happened. He did that a lot; it had something to do with being an ascended being. Relma had to walk home on her own after that. As she did, she found that lugging all this treasure was hard. Her hands hurt from the weight of the bags, and they kept bouncing against her back. She was not looking forward to getting home.


    And how was she supposed to explain all this money to Aunt Pan?


    Before she could think about that, Ajax came out of the trees, loping on all fours. It was a habit he fell into when he was excited or running. She had the feeling that he had been watching for a long time, though. How long was an important question?


    Ajax was holding a rabbit with a broken neck in his mouth. His mouth was bloody. "Hello, Relma." His voice was accusing, and he sniffed the air suspiciously.


    "Ajax?" said Relma. "What are you doing here?"


    "Hunting rabbits," said Ajax. "Then I picked up your scent?"


    "Oh, you did," said Relma, shifting the bags of gold to the ground. They hurt her shoulders.


    "Who was with you?" asked Ajax.


    "A friend," said Relma, not wanting to lie.


    "There was someone here. I smelled them," said Ajax. "They smelled like blood and death."


    "Alright, fine, so I was visited by the spirit of Anoa the Bright," said Relma, annoyed. "Now lay off, will you." And then a bag slipped out of her hand and spilled gold all over the ground. Relma kneeled down to begin putting it back in.


    Ajax looked at the bags. "Where did you get all this gold?"


    "Anoa led me to it," said Relma. "It was an ancient cache he had. I want to buy armor so I can participate in the Tournament of Kings while in disguise."


    "You realize Pandora will catch you," said Ajax. "Assuming I don''t report you in the first place." Relma looked at him, feeling a bit irritated. But also confident that no such thing would happen. "I''ve got plans for that. And if you don''t tell anyone about this, I can get you into the Tournament of Kings as well." How was she going to do that?


    Ajax scoffed and wiped the blood from his mouth. "Why would I want to enter something like that?"


    "Well, the Tournament of Kings is going to be where all the best warriors in Harlenor fight it out," said Relma. "If you were to be the winner, it would prove that the brood of Telix is stronger than the others."


    "As if they''d ever allow me in," noted Ajax.


    "You could still get in," said Relma. "All you''d need was some armor."


    "We don''t have your human obsession with shiny things," scoffed Ajax. "We don''t keep gold around, so we can''t buy armor."


    "I''ve got a lot of gold here," said Relma. "I could purchase us both armor. Mine could hide my face, and yours could hide your ears. Then we could enter as foreign knights."


    "Hmmm. And how will you ensure the blacksmith doesn''t report us?" asked Ajax.


    "Would it be so unusual for me to want to make my own armor?" asked Relma.


    "No," admitted Ajax. "But if you also buy me armor, that will raise questions. Also, you need more than a disguise. You also need to prove you are nobility, or you won''t be able to enter the core tournament.


    "And we''ll need a background. Something we can tell other people about who we are and where we come from.


    "Otherwise, you''ll just attract attention."


    "Oh," said Relma. "Um, you seem to have thought this through."


    "Well, I was planning to enter the tournament in my own name in the first place," said Ajax with a shrug.


    "You were?" asked Relma. "But, um, you''re part demon."


    "My Father is the Lord of the Wolven Forest," said Ajax. "Officially. That makes me nobility. They can dislike me for it all they want, but they can''t legally deny me the chance to enter."


    "Oh," said Relma.


    "As for armor, I don''t need it," said Ajax. "I prefer to keep mobile."


    "But that will put you at a huge disadvantage," said Relma. "You should at least get some light armor, right?"


    Ajax shrugged. "Maybe. Either way, it isn''t enough to stop me from telling Pandora what you''ve been up to."


    "Oh," said Relma. How was she supposed to talk her way out of this?


    "Fortunately for you, I like spiting her," said Ajax. "And I like you. So we''ll just pretend as though this didn''t happen.


    "Do you want some of this rabbit?" He motioned with the body. Still red with blood.


    "I um..." Relma wondered how to decline politely. "I don''t like eating meat raw."


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    "Why not?" asked Ajax.


    "I don''t know. We humans just prefer to cook it first," said Relma.


    "How can you know if you don''t like it without ever trying it?" asked Ajax.


    Relma couldn''t say she did know it wasn''t better. She''d never eaten raw meat. "I don''t know. It''s really bloody."


    "Try some," said Ajax.


    Relma really didn''t want to be rude. The meat was a big deal for Telix''s brood. So she reached forward and took the rabbit, drawing it back and looking at it. She wondered if it had suffered. Taking a bit, she struggled to get the flesh off. Pulling away, she chewed on it. The texture was awful, but she kept her distaste from her face as she finished it. She swallowed and gave the rabbit back.


    "How is it?" asked Ajax.


    "I..." Don''t lie. "I think it''s an acquired taste."


    Ajax shrugged. "To each their own. So, where do you plan to hide all this loot? Or do you think Pandora will just not blink at you, showing up with a bag full of gold?"


    "Well, um... I guess we could bury it," tried Relma.


    "Where?" asked Ajax.


    "Uh, how about here?" said Relma, gesturing around.


    "And do you intend to walk all the way here every time you make a withdrawal?" asked Ajax. "Will you be able to remember this location?"


    Relma realized that she would have to walk a long way. And that she probably would need to remember this location. "Oh, right. So, where do you recommend."


    Ajax smiled. "Follow me."


    The wolf boy led her through the trees and into more civilized lands. The bags were heavy, but Ajax helped her with them. Soon Relma realized she recognized the field they were walking in. Eventually, they came to a hillock with a tree growing out. Ajax motioned. "We should bury it beneath this tree here. You do have a shovel, don''t you?"


    "How do you know so much about burying treasure?" asked Relma, not wanting to answer.


    "I''ve buried many things in my time. Now put the bags down and help me dig."


    Relma obeyed and watched as Ajax got on his knees and began digging at the ground. His claws tore through the earth, quickly digging down. Not wanting to be a layabout, she kneeled down and tried to help.


    He looked at her attempts at digging in disgust. "You really are terrible at this; you know that. How do you mortals get anything done with such bad hands."


    "I don''t have a shovel," said Relma.


    "Right, because, of course, all animals need a bit of metal on a stick to make the most basic of actions," said Ajax. "Just forget it; I''ll dig the rest."


    And dig, he did. Relma marveled at how he cleaved through the earth. Before long, he had made a hole large enough to put all the bags into it. Ajax stood and smiled in satisfaction. "Alright. I think that is deep enough. Now put it in, and let''s get to Gel Carn. Before Pandora decides you''re late."


    "Right," said Relma.


    Relma was only too glad to leave the heavy burdens behind. She was less glad when she neared Gel Carn. And even further less glad when they found Pandora waiting for them on the road. Ajax fled.


    "Relma, where have you been?" asked Pandora. "Why is your mouth covered in blood, and why are you covered in dirt."


    "I, um, I had to do some work with my hands," said Relma.


    "And the blood?" asked Pandora.


    Honesty was the best policy. "Okay, fine, " Ajax offered me some raw meat, and I tried it. Then I helped him in digging a hole to hide something."


    "What was it?" asked Pandora.


    "Just some valuables we found," said Relma. "Why does it even matter?"


    Pandora eyed her. "You''ve been spending far too much time with Ajax lately, Relma."


    "He''s not that bad," said Relma. "I mean, I know he kidnapped me once and tried to force me to marry him. But that was months ago, and I wasn''t mistreated or anything. That''s just how his people work. And he''s been much nicer since."


    "The satyrs of the Black Marsh practice ritual cannibalism," said Pandora. "That''s how their people work. It doesn''t make it good behavior. And given that he is a hostage, it is only natural he be nice.


    "I don''t see how any of this makes it a good idea to eat raw meat? You could get sick."


    "I could barely choke it down, honestly," said Relma. "Anyway, animals do it all the time."


    "Yes. But you are not an animal," said Pandora. "Go get yourself cleaned up at once."


    "Yes, Aunt Pan," said Relma. And she walked past. Then she stopped. She felt like she was at a crossroads. Anoa had promised to disguise her, but she didn''t like going behind Aunt Pan''s back. "Aunt Pan?"


    "Yes," said Pan.


    "Would it be okay if I joined the Tournament of Kings in disguise?" asked Relma.


    Pan eyed her carefully. "...Is this going to be one of those things where if I say no, you find a way to enter anyway?" S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Maybe," said Relma, shifting. She wished Aunt Pan didn''t have such piercing eyes.


    "Why do you want to enter the Tournament of Kings?" asked Pan, putting a hand over her eyes.


    "I want to prove myself and test my skills against real people," said Relma. "I know I''ll probably get knocked out in the first round. But I want to try."


    Pan looked at her. "Very well, then. I''ll arrange a disguise for you."


    Wait, what? "Really?"


    "Yes," said Pan. "But, I do have conditions."


    "What are they?" asked Relma.


    "First, you have to raise the money to pay for armor yourself," said Pan.


    "Okay, that sounds difficult," said Relma. Aunt Pan probably thought that would be an insurmountable hurdle.


    "And second, if you face someone in the tournament who completely outmatches you, you will give up," said Pan. "The ability to know when you are beaten is a virtue that you need to learn. I don''t want any nonsense about powering on through sheer determination."


    "Okay," said Relma.


    "And third, if by some miracle you end up winning the prize money, I will hold onto it until you are of age," said Pan. "It isn''t that I don''t trust you, but having that money on hand makes one a target. If you wish to access it, you may request it, and I will consider giving it to you early."


    This condition didn''t really matter to Relma. It wasn''t like the money mattered to her; she wanted fame. But, this, something was wrong. "Why are you even making these conditions?" she asked. "You know as well as I do that I couldn''t raise the kind of money for armor overnight. Not without help."


    "Of course I do," said Pan. "But I feel I ought to keep all my options open. And if you can get someone to give you the money, that is an accomplishment. I''ll be very impressed, dear. "Speaking of which, you''re not allowed to take any loans to get the armor."


    "This doesn''t seem fair," noted Relma.


    "True. But you''re asking me to help you break the rules," said Aunt Pan. "And taking a loan of that level would be a massive investment that could haunt you for years. So you''ll have to get someone to give you the money, free of charge.


    "I don''t expect you''ll even be able to get past the first step, but if you do, I want to make sure you do something you''ll regret.


    "Also, I reserve the right to make up new rules as they occur to me."


    "Okay, I agree," said Relma. Of course, this would be much easier with Aunt Pan''s help. Now she just needed to find a way that she already had the money, gently.


    "Good," said Aunt Pan, looking back to her work. "Now get cleaned up, and then you can explain to me where you got the money for armor."


    Okay, this was going to be an awkward conversation. "Yes, Aunt Pan."

 Chapter Five: Ceremony of Knighthood

    Explanations to Aunt Pan were never fun, but she''d managed to make them. Then she''d spent a restless night counting the hours to Estela''s knighting. Now, at last, it had arrived.


    Within the high-ceilinged throne room, Estela kneeled before Steward Benarus. She wore a beautiful blue cloak around her, far better than her ragged old one. Her armor was repaired and polished, and her dark hair was carefully combed. Relma had never seen anyone look so elegant, she thought to herself. Estela looked like something out of the stained windows all around them. Fit to be displayed in one of the scenes of courage above. Perhaps she would be on one of them someday.


    It was both inspiring and a little scary. And, well, Estela was wonderful...


    "Squire Estela, do you swear to defend the will of Elranor with your shield?" asked Benarus. "That you will act with charity and mercy and defend the innocent from the arrows of hell."


    "I swear," said Estela, face downturned.


    "Do you swear that your sword will be used only against the wicked and the enemies of Harlenor?" asked Benarus. "You will dispense justice with a fair hand and strike only with need."


    "I swear," said Estela.


    "Do you swear to seek perfection in all things and give up your life in pursuit of His will, should he so command it?" asked Benarus.


    "I swear," said Estela.


    Benarus drew the sword and tapped it once on each of Estela''s shoulders. "Then rise a knight, Lady Estela."


    Clapping began in unison as Estela turned to regard the people. Relma was not among the nobility. She had a place on the sidelines with the less important people. Although news of the Heir of Kings had spread far and wide. Public opinion was undecided as to their nature. Later a feast began to celebrate the event. Relma was not one of those attending, at least as a guest. She and the other squires and pages, those that were left, were on serving duty. They were meant to do their job and fade into the background.


    Relma preferred this. Ever since eating that meat, she''d felt a bit sick. Well, a bit was an understatement. She''d been throwing up for several days. And even now, she was feeling a bit queasy. Eating this rich food was not something she would have wanted to do.


    There were all kinds of foods¡ªsome of them from foreign lands. A curry had been brought in from the far east, beyond Calisha, in a place called Dinis. Or, at any rate, that was where the recipe had come from; apparently, alterations had been made. The spices were costly.


    Benarus was putting a great deal into this ceremony, wasn''t he?


    "I wish Ronald were here," she said. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Why?" asked Ajax''s voice behind her. "So, he could set the place on fire?"


    Relma looked up to see him in the shadows. Ajax had yet to, technically, be invited. But since he lived at the castle and was the son of a powerful lord, he felt slighted. So Relma didn''t blame him for showing up anyway, as long as he didn''t make a scene.


    Still, his remark was uncalled for. "Ronald only started one forest fire, Ajax. And you were trying to kill us."


    "No, I wasn''t," he said, rolling his eyes.


    "Well, you were trying to capture me and willing to kill the others," said Relma.


    "Why aren''t you congratulating her, anyway?" asked Ajax.


    "I''m a squire. So we''re not supposed to get involved in these celebrations," said Relma.


    "Why?" asked Ajax. "You''re her friend, aren''t you?"


    "Sure, but all these people are important," said Relma. "Lords, knights, Estela''s peers. I''m beneath her station at the moment."


    "The brood of Telix decide for ourselves who is and isn''t important," said Ajax. "Why are they all showing up here?"


    "She is a Princess of Escor," said Relma. "Also, they''ve been gathering for the tournament for a while anyway. So Benarus killed two birds with one stone. I wish Ronald could be here."


    "Where is Ronald anyway?" asked Ajax. "Estela said he would be right behind her."


    So Ajax had been eavesdropping. Had he seen Anoa? Best not to ask. "He and Frederick got delayed chasing bandits. Apparently, a lot of criminal organizations have been weakened, and Sir Frederick wants to take advantage.


    "There is a lot of chaos in the north, over the Black Mountain.


    "He sent a hawk on ahead with the news. I hope he gets back soon. We''ll need Frederick at the Tournament of Kings." She paused. Ajax had tensed and narrowed his eyes as if ready for spring.


    "What is it?"


    "I know that girl," said Ajax, pointing.


    Relma followed his gesture to a noblewoman. Well, actually, she was about Relma''s age. She had a bowl cut of silver hair. She was clad in a red and silver dress. It showed a lot of skin on her thighs and her torso. She was very beautiful, actually.


    "Who is she?" asked Relma.


    "Fayn Lancel," said Ajax. "The niece of Steward Benarus. She often tried hunting in Father''s domain."


    Relma had heard the name before. They were rivals. Fayn was in line to inherit Benarus'' position as Steward. That was if other arrangements weren''t made. Where were her parents? No one else resembled her except Benarus though the resemblance was less than uncanny. Both had thin features, but very little else was in common.


    Relma listened in on the conversation as Fayn spoke to Benarus. "I''m told that you''ve created something of a menagerie in Gel Carn, Uncle," said Fayn. Her voice was the sort of thing that brought to mind ballgowns and petticoats, but harsh and aristocratic.


    "Mengerie?" asked Benarus.


    "Well, what with that werewolf hanging about the palace. It seems dangerous," said Fayn, though she was smirking as she said it. Her eye glanced over to where Ajax was. She knew they were here.


    "He is a political hostage, of sorts," said Benarus. "So long as he remains here, it keeps Telix from launching any more ill-fated assaults. I thought it better to keep him out of our company."


    "Ah, yes. I understand the lady of the hour can be thanked for all that," said Fayn. Her gaze shifted to Estela, who seemed pleased.


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    "I was part of the group that found Lightning Trail, yes," said Estela.


    "Well, you must recount the tale," said Fayn. "We''ve heard much of your exploits in Khasmir. But the retrieving of so powerful a weapon bears a retelling."


    Estela did say it. She explained the whole story from the point where she entered it to the raid in the forest. Relma had lived through parts of it before. Everyone listened to it with interest, though. Fayn seemed to be looking for another reason, though.


    "Well, that is quite a story," said Fayn. "Yet, you seem to have downplayed your own role in things."


    "Not really. I was only one part of a great coordinated effort," said Estela, voice guarded. "If anyone had failed, the situation would have been a disaster.


    "In any case, I''m not sure the finding of Lightning Trail is my story."


    "Yes, I suppose credit ought to be awarded to others," said Fayn. "So, where is your comrade Relma? Given her illustrious heritage, I should have thought she would be present for this. "The identity of the Heir of Kings was not well known among the common people. But evidently, Fayn knew it well.


    "Fayn, she is a squire," said Benarus, eyes narrowed. "I didn''t think it appropriate for her to be at the table."


    "Nonsense, is she not the Heir of Kings?" asked Fayn, leaning back. "Surely, her very presence would enlighten us. Let her come forward."


    There were murmurs of agreement. Fayn was undercutting what was meant to be Estela''s moment and putting the focus on Relma. And Fayn probably thought that Relma would embarrass herself.


    This was a ploy to drive a wedge between Relma and Estela. And to make Relma look like a fool. So Relma stayed right where she was in the background until Benarus yielded. "...Very well then, Relma, come forward."


    Relma paused a moment. Then she walked forward slowly, doing her best to look humble and submissive. "I wouldn''t presume to interrupt-"


    "Come forward," said Benarus, voice hard. He obviously didn''t like this any more than Estela.


    Relma approached, and Fayn looked her up and down with a slight smile. "So, do tell us, why was it that Elranor chose you of all those who''ve tried their hand at drawing Lightning Trail?"


    Relma said nothing. She looked at Estela. One of the new knight''s hands was clenched.


    "Speak up?" said Fayn, putting a hand on Relma''s cheek. "I''m sure we''re all dying to know."


    Relma considered her answer. She would look arrogant if she said it was because she was more worthy. If she said that she wasn''t worthy, she would discredit herself. If she said she didn''t know, she would look dense. "I expect it because it fits into his designs."


    "And what designs are those?" asked Fayn.


    If she made a prediction of any kind, she looked arrogant. Even if it was proven right, and if it were proven wrong, she would be discredited. "I would not presume to ask Elranor to tell me more than he deems I need to know."


    "Hmm, so you follow instructions without question," said Fayn. She drew back her hand. "No doubt it endears you to Gail Arengeth?" Chuckles from the others at the table.


    Relma narrowed her eyes. This was too much. "Gail Arengeth wants people to think for themselves."


    Fayn took it in stride, looking predatory. "Well then, let me ask you this; Is the duty of a King to serve the nation? Or the gods?"


    Relma had no answer. And then she did. As if some part of her that had been sleeping now awakened. "A King must render service to both in their own ways."


    "And what ways are those?" asked Fayn.


    Relma remained silent and just looked at Fayn. Fayn looked back. There they stood in silent challenge. This was ridiculous. Fayn would just keep asking these questions until she had no choice but to make a mistake. If Relma said the nation, she was disrespectful of the gods. If she said the gods, she was an out-of-touch fanatic.


    "Well?" asked Fayn, smile widening.


    "...Why are you trying to trap me?" asked Relma, deciding to dispense with the pretenses.


    Fayn stiffened. "You forget your place, squire."


    "My apologies, milady," said Relma with a curtsy of her robes. "But I had thought my place was with the other squires, watching in silent obedience. Was I wrong?"


    Fayn sat back. "You weren''t."


    "Then, with your permission, I will return to my vigil," said Relma before looking to Benarus.


    "Do so at once," said Benarus.


    Relma walked back. Estela looked pleased with the result. Benarus coughed and looked ready to change the subject.


    "At any rate, Estela, I am told that the demon Melchious manifested during the war for Khasmir," said Benarus. "Can you lend any credence to this?"


    "I can confirm that Melchious made an appearance," said Estela. "I saw him from far away, observing the conflict. Unfortunately, there wasn''t much time to see much of anything else. I nearly lost my head to a raishan while I was looking.


    "If it hadn''t been for well...


    "Tanith Telus has her uses on the battlefield. She happened to kill the creature that would have killed me." Saying anything good about Tanith would not be acceptable. If Tanith had saved her, Estela had to downplay it. She probably shouldn''t have brought it up in the first place.


    "I remember how they swarmed up the battlements of Kynn like locusts. It was hard fighting, and a lot of good men died. I heard later that he tasted defeat by the sorceress Rusara. Though something else happened as well, I''ll wager."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Fayn.


    "Well, Duke Vanion''s son William disappeared during the campaign," said Estela. "Some of us figured he was dead. But after he disappeared, the commanders started predicting the enemy''s movements with precision.


    "Then William showed up again out of the blue after the battle and started healing people."


    "What did Melchious look like?" asked Fayn.


    "He was tall, with long blonde hair and very fair features," said Estela. "Though he had a scar over this eye. Right here." She raised a hand and traced it over one eye. "He had the wings of an eagle and held a blood-red axe that pulsed with unholy energy.


    "A few of the other men spoke of a strange black demoness. She was seen flying out of Kynn toward the end of the battle."


    "What do you make of it all?" asked Benarus.


    "I can''t say anything for certain without more information," said Estela. "But I think that Duke Vanion has made contacts among the denizens of hell. And I think that William Gabriel is the one who made them."


    "That''s a grave allegation," noted Benarus.


    "I read his book," admitted Estela. "But the truth is that none of us know what happened in Baltoth''s Retribution. The only witnesses were a demon, William Gabriel, and an elven goddess.


    "They had some kind of alliance against Melchious. Demons often scheme against each other. And it wouldn''t be the first time a Gabriel has made a pact with a demon."


    "If this is so, then we have cause to be uneasy," noted Benarus.


    "Come now." scoffed Fayn. "Vanion is a barbarian lord of Haldren. What concern is it of ours? Sooner or later, he''ll be devoured by the demon, and we''ll have nothing to worry about."


    "Men said the same about his pact with Melchious," noted Benarus. "But by all appearances, he has proved the stronger there."


    "I don''t think you should underestimate Vanion," said Estela. "I spoke with him when I arrived in Artarq. He was courteous and charming and had me believing every word he said. When you talk to him, the gods stop being holy. Demons cease to be wicked. Spirits cease to have any sanctity.


    "He thinks of the gods as powerful kings. And he thinks of demons as lords who can be manipulated like anyone else."


    "What do you think his next move will be?" asked Benarus.


    "I can''t say," admitted Estela. "But I think I know one thing he''ll try for. Vanion prefers to gain power through deals rather than open battle. So I think he''ll try to marry his family into King Andoa''s bloodline."


    "Do you think King Andoa would accept such a deal?" scoffed Fayn.


    "I don''t know. I haven''t met him," said Estela. "But it would be a smart political move. Vanion has holdings in Haldren as well as Antion. So a marriage between House Gabriel and the Royalty of Antion would benefit both.


    "And it would also restore the credibility of the royal family."


    "Restore the credibility?" asked Benarus. "Isn''t that a little presumptuous?"


    "Forgive me, Steward Benarus," said Estela. "I only mean to say that King Andoa is getting old. His son isn''t anywhere near as accomplished. Meanwhile, House Gabriel''s star is in the ascension. Vanion could be an invaluable support to them. And a dangerous enemy."


    "All this is very nice to talk about. But what has it to do with Gel Carn?" asked Fayn.


    Estela gave her a look that said she ought to know this much, and Fayn glared back with daggers. Evidently, she did. "If Duke Vanion sets his family up as royalty, he''ll have a good chance of creating Harlenor Reunited. No doubt in his image. Gel Carn is sworn to submit only to the Heir of Kings when right.


    "We are a natural enemy of his. If I were him, I''d want Gel Carn removed as an independent force."


    "What does it matter how Harlenor Reunited is formed?" asked Fayn. "Whether done by Vanion or some king out of legend, the job will be done either way. So what say you, uncle?"


    Benarus looked to Fayn, then Estela. "...In the end, we must all do Elranor''s will."


    That was a profound non-answer Relma could appreciate.

 Chapter Six: The Combatants Assemble

    The tournament day was nearly here, and the sky did not have a cloud. A brisk wind kept it from becoming too muggy or unpleasant. Unfortunately, Relma wore armor, so the wind didn''t do her much good. Few things ruined a nice day, like having an inch of steel around your body. And Relma was not the only one. Even now, people signed up, hoping to write their names into history. And Relma was in her armor. Aunt Pan had painted several runes into it as well. These made her appear different.


    Relma wasn''t sure of the details. But now they were heading toward the large pavilion where the combatants would sign up. There was Davian at the front, with a quill and a book. He was looking very bored.


    Ajax got there before them, and Pan pulled Relma behind a tree. She looked at her hard and made eye contact. "Now remember, Relma," said Aunt Pan, "this disguise will help. But you will still have to act the part."


    "Why are you letting me do this, Aunt Pan?" asked Relma. "You could stop me if you wanted."


    "Elranor''s bloodline has a unique trait," said Pan. "They learn weapon skills very quickly. It''s like learning to walk for them; you figure it out very quickly once you get past the basics. It was a gift from the Dragon God, Vrengar, I believe.


    "I''ve seen you practicing."


    "So you think I stand a chance?" asked Relma.


    "No, I think you''ll lose and lose badly," said Pandora. "Special traits are no substitute for experience. But you might learn something from it."


    "What do you mean you won''t let me sign up?" asked Ajax, voice loud.


    "This tournament is for knights," said Davian. "Or, in the case of Dust Elves, official representatives of classless societies. You are neither."


    "I am the son of one of the most powerful demon lords in Harlenor," snarled Ajax. "That makes my nobility. And I am an official representative."


    "Demon Lord is not a title," said Davian, not looking up. "And you are a hostage. The proper paperwork for allowing you to enter has not been filled out."


    Ajax looked about to strike him, but he restrained himself. Pandora quickly began making her way toward them. Relma followed behind. This could be bad.


    "It bloody well is," said Ajax. "And I don''t give a damn about your paperwork."


    The man looked straight past him. Did he want to get his throat ripped out? Apparently so, because he pretended as though Ajax was not there. Then again, Davian had never been afraid of anything that Relma had heard of. "Lady Pandora, what may we do for you?"


    "Why aren''t you allowing him to enter, Davian?" asked Pandora.


    "He isn''t a knight," said Davian. "And the paperwork has not been filled out."


    "Have you considered what it will mean if you deny him entrance?" asked Pandora. "It will be taken as a direct insult to Telix?"


    "I''m insulted he couldn''t be bothered to fill out the appropriate forms," said Davian.


    "Shall I take your response to the Steward?" asked Pandora. "I''m sure he''ll look favorably on an insult to one of his most dangerous neighbors."


    Davian shifted. He looked to Ajax, Pandora then, leaned back. "I see your point, milady." He offered the ink to Ajax. "You can sign in."


    "Thank you," hissed Ajax.


    Ajax did not take the quill. Instead, he bit a finger and smeared blood over the section where he would have put his name. Davian picked up the book, looked at it, put it down, then looked up with narrowed eyes. "What is this?"


    "That is how we sign our names among my people," said Ajax. "The scent of our blood marks it as our signature."


    "This is very irregular," said Davian. "Humans do not have a sense of smell to identify people by scent. It''s traditional to use the seal of your house."


    "My blood is my seal, you miserable-" began Ajax. He halted and sniffed the air.


    "Something wrong, dog?" laughed a voice. "Perhaps you should run back to your mistress?"


    Ajax tensed and turned around to see a vast, stubbled man a little older than Relma standing in the line behind them. It was a short line, but the important thing was how Ajax was walking toward the man. Relma knew that there would be blood in a minute.


    "Enough," said Davian. "The blood counts as a seal in itself. I doubt any of the other contenders will use such a method. But if someone else marks their name with red liquid, we''ll have a problem.


    "Just don''t start killing people until the tournament. And even then, make it an accident."


    Ajax hesitated. Pandora met his gaze, and he nodded. He walked into the pavilion. Relma stepped forward. Davian gave her what might have been a sarcastic look. "Who are you?"


    "I am Raleen Artor," said Relma before drawing out a pendant Aunt Pan had given her. It had the symbol of a roaring lion, scaring away wolves. "Here is my seal."


    Davian took it and smiled wryly. "This is a symbol I have not seen for a very long time. A very long time indeed. Do you know your history, Raleen?"


    "We were a branch house of the royal family long ago," said Relma. "One that was descended from a half-brother of Anoa II, Versinus. He proved himself valorous in battle in the Withering Wars and was awarded nobility." She paused. "Though I don''t see why I should have to recite my own history to you.


    "Am I a child to be lectured?" Put resentment into the voice.


    Davian smiled. "No, of course not. I can see the resemblance. Still, reports suggest that satyrs wiped out the house some years ago."


    "An exaggeration," said Relma, remembering her instructions. "We fell into obscurity long ago, but we''re hoping to make a comeback."


    "Very well, dip it ink this ink and then press it against the page here," said Davian, motioning.


    Relma complied and pressed the seal there. "Like this?"


    Davian nodded, and she pressed the seal down on the page. Before she could take it off, Davian grabbed her hand. "No, no, keep it there for a moment. You don''t want to take it off too quickly, or the ink won''t sink in." He took his hand off. "Alright, then you are set. Go on into the pavilion.


    "Oh, be careful in there. Sometimes knights can get rowdy."


    "Thank you," said Relma. "I''ll be very careful."


    Within the pavilion, there were a large number of tables and chairs. And more people needed to fill them. Things may fill up later. Relma looked around for Estela and saw her speaking with another. It was Edward De Cathe. Relma hadn''t seen him in months.


    She made her way up, noting the coat of arms of house Vortegex. A white dragon, coiling over a defeated red. Was there such a thing as a white dragon? Relma had never heard of one. "Princess Estela, is it? I''m Raleen Artor."


    Estela looked at her, and Relma knew she had guessed who she was. "Artor? I remember that house. I thought it was wiped out a long time ago."


    "An exaggeration," said Relma. "We''ve fallen from grace a bit." How many times would she have to repeat this?


    "Well, Raleen, you are in the wrong place," said Estela, emphasizing the word. "The knights of Gel Carn are over there."


    Relma glanced over and saw an empty area. No one had appeared yet. "Why should there be different places?"


    "I suppose you think that the three Kingdoms are all one big, happy family, then?" asked Estela.


    "No, I just, never mind," said Relma. "So, these are the knights of Escor?" Only two?


    "Yes," said Estela. "Over there are the knights of Antion." She pointed to an area with only two people, the man behind her in the line. He seemed to be speaking with another orange-haired man with a slight smirk. Relma hoped they were the first ones in.


    "Rather pretentious of them to put themselves as their own Kingdom," said De Cathe suddenly.


    "Give them some credit, De Cathe," said Estela. "Gel Carn was the capital of Harlenor United. And they are the hosts."


    "I suppose," said De Cathe. "Is there a particular reason you are pretending to be someone you are not, Relma Artorious?"


    Relma flinched. "Um, politics. How did you-"


    "I knew you by your voice," said De Cathe.


    "Right," said Relma. She was going to have to talk with Aunt Pan about this spell. "I haven''t seen you since, uh, the not war with Telix."


    "Yes," said De Cathe. "After things ended there, I went west to the marshes and fought with the satyrs. Working with the Black Watch was an unpleasant business, but it had to be done. My comrades and I saved a village, though we lost a few of our number.


    "Not that Lord Anias had much regard for our sacrifice. He denied us payment on a technicality."


    "I''m sorry to hear it," said Relma. "Then, the satyrs are resurging?"


    De Cathe smiled. Suddenly Relma felt sorry for the satyrs. "Not anymore. I believe they sensed weakness with the coming war and chose to start raiding again. We convinced them otherwise.


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    "My congratulations on the drawing of the blade, by the way. Where is it?"


    "Oh, it''s here," said Relma, touching her blade. "In disguise. Just don''t tell anyone who I am."


    "Of course," said De Cathe. "I shall remain wholly silent."


    Relma shifted. "So, where are the knights of Haldren?"


    "The knight of Haldren is there," said De Cathe, pointing to another part.


    Relma didn''t see anyone for a moment. Then, eventually, she noticed a tall man sitting cross-legged in a corner. He had a sheathed blade over his knees. His shield bore the emblem of a Golden Cobra, coiled to strike on a red background. She must have missed him before.


    "Only one?" asked Relma.


    "Yes. Varsus. He''s a nephew of Duke Vanion Gabriel." said Estela. "He came here with a knight of Antion, Reginald De Chevlon. Actually, he had a large company of guards. But he insists on being sorted with the knights of Haldren."


    "Why aren''t you there anymore?" asked Relma.


    "Haldren is a long way off," said De Cathe. "They are much nearer to the wars, so most of the knights who want to prove themselves went to Artarq. Also, King Gavin doesn''t acknowledge Gel Carn as legitimate."


    "I know that," said Relma. It had been part of her lessons. "But you''d think someone else would have come."


    "It is still early in the day," noted Estela.


    Wait a minute, where was Ajax? Relma looked around and eventually saw him lying on his back beneath several chairs. His hands were clasped, and he seemed to be thinking. He probably didn''t realize how eccentric he looked.


    "So," said Relma, "is it true that women in Antion aren''t allowed to be knights?"


    "Yes," said De Cathe. "They are expected to take up tasks more associated with peace than war. King Andoa II pushed through one of the reforms in his younger days."


    "Good thing for you; it hasn''t spread to Gel Carn yet," said Estela.


    "Right," said Relma, "do you mind if I wait with you until the others arrive?"


    "It''s no trouble," said Estela.


    The others were few and far between in arriving. One who came was a small, dust-elven man. But he wore a sword nearly as large as he was tall on his back. A bow was also on his back. He made his way into the Antion section and sat down across from the others. The big man Relma had seen mocking Ajax said something to him, but either he did not hear or he did not care.


    "Who is that?" asked Relma.


    "That is Garrick Estov, I believe," said De Cathe. "He''s a Knight of the Coin. They''re a mercenary company based on Sorn. Though the order has a somewhat religious aspect to it as well, and none of them are actually knights."


    "How can none of them be knights?" asked Relma.


    "They don''t have classes in Sorn," said De Cathe. "Not since the revolution. They are ruled by merchants and money, rather than Lords and ideals."


    "Right," said Relma. She shifted. "Where is Sir Frederick? I was looking forward to meeting him and Ronald?"


    "I don''t know," admitted De Cathe.


    "This has been a very small number of knights," noted Estela. "Shouldn''t there be more?"


    "The Steward is lucky he got this many," said De Cathe. "Most of the knights who would come to such an event would be from Antion. Escor is too chaotic for a man to leave his lands for long. And Haldren is otherwise engaged. Besides, the roads in Gel Carn aren''t any good.


    "Anoa II made them well. But he ruled a long time ago. As a result, they''ve fallen into disrepair. So journeying through Southern Antion is difficult."


    "Someone ought to repair them, then, shouldn''t they?" asked Relma. "Wouldn''t that be a better use than tournaments?"


    "Do you think the lords in those regions would let it happen?" asked Estela. "Benarus doesn''t rule Southern Antion. He rules Gel Carn. If it weren''t for all the pilgrims from Estal, this place wouldn''t be nearly as important as it is.


    "No offense."


    "I hope that Benarus expected a small group," said De Cathe, "and prepared for a large one. Otherwise, he is due for some disappointment."


    Relma was drawn away from the conversation to see a black knight entering the pavilion. They had a massive poleaxe on their back, and their helmet concealed their face. They glanced at Relma, then walked on past.


    Then Relma shuddered. She had a feeling, suddenly, that someone significant was on the threshold. She dreaded them, feeling a sort of primal enmity.


    Peering out the tent flap to the pavilion, she saw Davian facing down three figures. The first was a very tall individual. He was clad in white and black armor with a faceplate shaped like a skull. Two glowing green lights could be seen from the eye holes. A pure black sword was at his side, and a round shield was on his back. Yet beneath his crimson cloak, Relma also caught sight of a golden harp. Moreover, his shield was decorated with the same golden cobra as Varsus.


    Beside him was a hulking chimera. It had three heads a golden lion, a white goat, and a black dragon. The lion''s head was licking its chops and regarded the people around them with hunger. However, the armored figure scratched behind its goat ears, and it relaxed.


    Finally, there was a boy. He was tall and thin, though not as tall as the armored figure. His skin was darker than anyone Relma had seen, and his hair was black as night. He had red eyes, pupils thinner than usual, and wore a black cloak.


    "Is this the sign-in area for the Tournament of Kings?" asked the armored figure, his voice a horrible rasp.


    "It is," said Davian.


    "So be it," said the man. "I intend to enter."


    "That is William Gabriel," said Estela.


    "He certainly makes an entrance," said Relma as they walked away from the flap. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    William Gabriel entered with the chimera and the Calishan following in his footsteps. Relma watched as he approached Varsus and stood across from him. Varsus looked up.


    "Varsus? It''s been years since we last saw each other," said William.


    Relma flinched. The contrast between the voice and the words was disturbing. Varsus stood up and looked him over. "You have grown. What injury caused your voice to change so."


    "Oh, this," said William. "Hold on." He drew off his helmet and put it under one arm. Then he spoke. "The helmet is enchanted to make me more intimidating." His voice was now normal, a proud baritone, but without the unholy rasp.


    "The glowing green eyes certainly manage that," said Varsus, smiling a bit. "I wonder if you did not overdo it."


    "It was a gift from Rusara," said William. "I didn''t want to offend her."


    Varsus looked at him. "That scar... how did you get it?"


    What scar? Relma couldn''t see it.


    "I was slashed across the eye by a demoness," said William. "It is a bit of a long story. I''m glad to see you again."


    They embraced warmly, then broke apart. "As am I," said Varsus. "You were six, I believe, when last I met you. You''ve picked up strange company." His eyes looked warily to the Calishan, and Relma''s sense of dread returned.


    "Oh, Felix is quite loyal and reliable," said William. "You don''t need to fear him. We''ve been stopping to heal every village we come across throughout our journey. If he were going to betray me, he''d have done it long ago." He had been looking for an excuse to mention healing people, hadn''t he?


    Varsus shifted. "...You''ll forgive me, cousin. But I was not expecting you here. Duke Vanion gave me leave to represent House Gabriel."


    "And ordinarily, I''d leave it to you," said William. "Unfortunately, I have to fill in for Raynald. He wanted to come here, but he''s needed as a general in Khasmir. There are still raishans about. So he wanted at least one of his students to appear.


    "I wanted Tanith to go, but it turns out she had a disagreement with the local lords. So that left only me. Mother also wanted to go, but, well, my new siblings need her."


    So he was friends with Tanith. That spoke severely about his character. But he didn''t seem like a bad person.


    "At any rate, there was another reason for me coming down this way," said William. "Father wanted me to deliver some news to Brisgald personally. Auga is to be granted the position of Lord of Carn Gable."


    "Auga?" asked Varsus. "I was under the impression that Uncle was keeping Carn Gable for himself."


    "He was ruling it through Mother," said William. "But now that the entire family is focused on Artarq, he''s decided to make the move official. We need someone over in Carn Gable; we can trust to rule it.


    "Auga is smart and capable. We would have chosen you, but you''re the heir to Brisgald."


    "No offense is taken," said Varsus. "I prefer warmer climates anyway. And my younger sister is well suited for the task." That got a laugh from both of them. "How did Vorn take it?"


    "Badly," said William. "He shouted and yelled about being passed over."


    "That sounds like him," said Varsus. "Still, Uncle has always assigned positions on merit. And Vorn has little of that." He paused for a moment. "I hope you don''t expect an easy victory in the tournament, William."


    "Far from it," said William. "Truth be told, I don''t even expect to win. I''m a good swordsman, but it''s never been my best skill."


    Relma turned her attention to the calishan boy. The boy, Felix, glanced up, and their eyes met. Although she did not know him, she felt like she did. Her gaze met his, and something was passing between them. Relma tried to keep steady beneath his red-eyed gaze, but it was all she could do not to look away.


    Don''t show weakness, said part of her.


    And then the contest was broken. The chimera rubbed against Felix from behind, and the boy looked down to scratch her behind the ears.


    Relma returned to the flap and saw no sign of Frederick. Davian was just sitting there. Relma looked to Estela. "If Frederick doesn''t arrive in time, what then?"


    "Then he doesn''t enter," said Estela. "Not today, anyway. Raleen."


    At that moment, Davian stood. "If anyone remains who wish to sign into the tournament, come forward now. The office is now closing for the day."


    "Come on," said Relma.


    "Set down my name, sir!" said a voice.


    At that moment, Frederick and Ronald rode into sight upon the backs of wolves. The halflings wore dented armor but were no less magnificent as they dismounted. Relma almost ran to greet them.


    "Remember, you''re supposed to not know them," said Ajax.


    "Oh right, thank you, Ajax," said Relma.


    Frederick and Ronald entered, and Relma resisted the urge to go greet them. She didn''t know them. Don''t introduce yourself here; Ronald might say your name.


    "Sir Frederick, we were afraid you would not make it in time," said De Cathe. "This tournament would not have been the same without you here."


    "What, this fool?" scoffed the man who had mocked Ajax. "You expect us to face this red-faced fatling?


    "This is pathetic. First, Gel Carn lets in an animal, and now one of the dirt farmers pretending to be a knight. They really have let their standards fall."


    Frederick stiffened. "I should cut your throat, sir. But I shall save the matter for the tournament."


    "Am I supposed to be impressed?" sneered the man.


    The orange-haired man shifted. "To think I was concerned to be filling in for Raynald here."


    "Don''t bring up that withered carcass to me, Reginald," said the man who had mocked Ajax.


    "Withered carcass?!" asked William. Then he put on his helm and grasped his sword in a fury.


    For a moment, Relma thought there would be a fight. But Varsus caught him by the hand. "Calm yourself, cousin. There is nothing to be gained through bluster here."


    Davian then walked in. "I see you''ve started things in record time. Well, a smaller group than we hoped for. But not smaller than we expected. And there are plenty of others in the other areas of the tournament.


    "Gather around, and I will tell you the basic rules."


    Reluctantly they did so. "Each of you is here to prove your courage before the crowds of Gel Carn. Of course, your motives vary, but all of you will have the chance to win the prize¡ªten thousand silver.


    "Enough to hire a fleet of ships. To purchase virtually anything your heart desires. Or, better still, to make sensible investments in the business. What you desire to do with the coin is your own choice.


    "But first, you must win it.


    "The matches will each be held in the public tourney in the days leading up to the final event. There will also be other tournaments: archery contests, axe throwing, and jousting. You are free to enter any of these, should you so choose. And winning them will make your prize greater still.


    "Bear in mind that there is great danger here. If one of you should be killed in the fighting, it will be considered the end result of a legal duel. You risk your life.


    "However, this does not mean this is a blood sport. Accidents are allowed. Deliberate killing blows are not. Should your opponent be defeated, you are forbidden from killing them. If an opponent says, ''I forfeit'' the fight is over. Any further attacks will be illegal and subject to judgment by Steward Benarus.


    "Likewise, if it is judged that the killing was deliberate, you will suffer the consequence.


    "The events will officially begin three days from now at midday. Be here by then. If you fail to arrive for your match, you forfeit. With those rules out of the way, food has been prepared to welcome you." He motioned. "Follow me."


    "So, who do you think will win this one?" asked Relma.


    "I''m not going to hazard a guess," said Estela.


    Relma wanted more information on this, Felix. There was something odd about him. And since he was always in the shadow of his master, logically, she should try following William.


    This couldn''t end badly.

 Chapter Seven: The Scarred Boy

    It was a reunion Relma had wanted for a long time now.


    Of course, she had to leap some fences to get it, even at this stage. She''d eat a lovely meal with the other contestants though that man from before kept making snide remarks. Reginald seemed embarrassed by him and tried to reign him in but in a friendly way. He eventually distracted him by turning the subject to women. Their conversation turned to several ''conquests.'' Garrick made conversation with Varsus about the problem of piracy in the Sea of Power. Frederick spoke at length with De Cathe and Estela, speaking of the wars in Escor.


    It seemed as if everyone was at war. And nobody could imagine a world where they weren''t. It troubled Relma.


    The chimera had continually brushed up against William as he spoke with Felix. The two boys seemed to be arguing, but she couldn''t make it out. Relma noted that William spoke to Felix almost as an equal. Just what kind of servant was he?


    And how had he even got in here? Relma supposed there was no rule against pets, but Ronald had been told to wait outside. Then again, nobody seemed to even notice Felix except her. The chimera became increasingly insistent, and even an offer of meat did not get her to stop. Finally, William stood up and slipped out. Felix and the chimera followed.


    Eventually, William slipped out, and Relma took this as her cue to leave. She walked out after him and quickly got out of her armor before fitting it into a bag she''d taken with her. Then, slipping out, she began to follow them; she ran into Ronald.


    That was the reunion, and she forgot at once her pursuit, got to her knees, and hugged him. Then, of course, her bag full of armor bumped him, and he winced in pain.


    "Sorry," said Relma, quickly healing the bruise.


    "What''s in there?" asked Ronald.


    "Just some stuff I''m carrying," said Relma. "Ronald, it''s been months."


    "Sorry I couldn''t meet you earlier; Sir Frederick wanted me to get the wolves denned after our entrance," said Ronald. "Did you see it?" The halfling boy''s voice was hopeful.


    "You mean riding up to the tent at the last minute?" asked Relma. "Yes. Why the entrance anyway?"


    "Well, he wanted to appear fashionably late," said Ronald. "Sir Frederick says it helps to appear impressive when you want to negotiate.


    "So, what are you doing?" S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Oh, um, I''m following William Gabriel," said Relma. "One of the contestants in the tournament. Do you want to go with me?"


    Ronald followed after her but seemed a bit concerned. "So we finally meet again after months, and the first thing you want to do is stalk one of your enemies?"


    "I''m not stalking him, okay. I just heard he has a scar, but he put the helm back on before I could see it," said Relma. "And he isn''t my enemy."


    "He''s a political rival," said Ronald. "Duke Vanion is one of the most powerful men in Antion of Haldren. Some people say he plans to become a King himself. He can''t do that if you or one of your descendants reunited Harlenor, can he?" He paused.


    Relma looked at him. "Ronald, I''ve never heard you talk about things this way. Did something happen?"


    "During the fighting with the Calishans, I saw things," said Ronald. "It isn''t anything like in the stories Relma. I''m glad we stopped that war. All the demons in the world can keep on living if it means not having a war.


    "And I saw the kind of people Duke Vanion employs."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "When the order went out for the Calishans to be spared, there was a lot of anger," said Ronald. "I remember I saw men raging about how they were supposed not to kill the captured prisoners. They wanted to take their weapons and equipment, and Duke Vanion denied them that.


    "A lot of the knights of Harlenor... they aren''t good people, Relma. And yet they are afraid of Vanion."


    "Afraid?" asked Relma. "Why?"


    "I don''t know," said Ronald. "That''s what scares me. As far as I saw, he followed all the rules of war. He was very reasonable and merciful.


    "But I saw hardened killers stop when someone mentioned Vanion wouldn''t like it. My dad had a saying, "Don''t be afraid of the snake you can see. You can do something about it. It''s the one you can''t see that is the real threat.''" He paused. "Still, I''ll walk with you."


    They made their way through the town as quickly as they could. Relma used some minor spells Aunt Pan had taught her to track William. As they walked, Ronald looked ill at ease. "What does his scar have to do with anything?"


    "Well, Estela said that Melchious had a similar scar," said Relma.


    "Are you saying Melchious and William Gabriel are the same people?" asked Ronald.


    Relma stared at him. "No, I just-" Then she heard a harp sound. The music was sweet and beautiful. Relma had never heard anything so nice. "I hear music."


    They followed it and soon came to a corner. Standing around it, they saw William sitting on a bench, playing hard with ungloved hands. His helm was still on his face. Felix was nowhere to be seen, but the chimera was lying belly up at his feet, basking in the sun.


    "Is that a chimera?" asked Ronald.


    "He has a pet chimera," said Relma. "Didn''t you see it before?"


    "No," said Ronald. "I haven''t even seen him. Estela and I were in different battles."


    "I think you''re asking the wrong questions," said Felix.


    Relma turned around with a shriek and saw the calishan boy emerging from the shadows. His eyes were narrowed. "If you want to ask questions of my master, you might just approach him normally."


    "Who... how did you get there?" asked Ronald.


    "I walked," said Felix, smiling.


    "I know, but... I didn''t even notice you," said Ronald.


    "Not being seen is one of my primary assets," said Felix. "I am Felix, the valet of William Gabriel. We''ve been aware of your clumsy attempts at stealth for some time. If you try and pry information from us, we''d appreciate it if you were less obvious about it."


    "Right, um, I''m going to go talk to him then," said Relma.


    She walked toward William, who had yet to stop playing. As she approached, he ceased his harping and put the instrument down. From there, he removed the helmet, and Relma saw the scar. It was long and ugly and went from his forehead to the middle of one of his cheeks. Whatever had done, it had missed the eye, but it marred his features.


    Features that were very similar to Anoa''s. The resemblance was uncanny.


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    "Yes?" asked William.


    "So, um, what''s his name?" asked Relma, looking to the chimera.


    "She is named Massacre," said William. "I made the same mistake, actually. All chimeras have manes."


    "So, uh, how did you meet?" asked Relma.


    "Well, Felix and I slipped into her cave while running away from satyrs," said William. "When our pursuers started a fire outside, the smoke woke her, and she ate them. Then she tried to eat us, but I calmed her down with music."


    "So she likes music then?" asked Relma.


    "Yes. I''m not sure if it is all chimeras or just her," admitted William.


    "You know, Ronald and I got chased into a cave once," said Relma. "Though we were running from Aunt Pan, not satyrs."


    He blinked. "You mean Pandora the Sorceress?"


    "Yes," said Relma.


    William stood up. "Hmm, interesting. You would be the Heir of Kings then?"


    "You''ve heard of me all the way in Artarq?" asked Relma, hopefully.


    "Not really," admitted William. "Tanith mentioned you in passing, and I learned more as I made my way down here. She described you as, uh..." He raised a hand to his temple in thought. "What was it, Felix?"


    "A weak-willed, spineless puppet of sorcerers. Incapable of any worthwhile achievement, she is doomed to be a figurehead. One swiftly cut down." said Felix. "Or something to that effect."


    "It was very impolite, and I don''t mean to take her word as automatic truth," said William.


    "...That''s a bit more flowery than I thought Tanith capable," said Relma.


    "Carn Gable is one of the greatest libraries in Haldren. She was educated there alongside me," said William. "She is knowledgeable. She just prefers to focus on more martial pursuits. Also, she was drunk, so she wasn''t herself."


    Relma shifted in irritation. And then something occurred to her. "Wait, so nobody is talking about Lightning Trail being drawn?"


    William blinked. "Should we be? Harlenor won''t be reunited because someone drew a sword from the sky. The vast majority of conquerers fail. Their dream of a unified Harlenor usually conflicts with another dream. That of the many feuding nobles who want a disunified Harlenor. Even if they would never admit it."


    "Well then, what would unite Harlenor?" asked Relma, curious.


    William considered things. "...Well, the sword could have worked if an overbearing threat might destroy all Three Kingdoms. Then you might convince them to call a truce and support the man who drew it.


    "Enlightened self-interest would allow the creation of a figurehead. Then, if he proved strong in war and a good administrator, he might well consolidate control. That, I suspect, is how Anoa the Bright managed it."


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Relma. What did he know about Anoa the Bright?


    "I read history," said William. "Things tend to go in cycles, and once you read enough, you begin to notice the patterns."


    Relma decided to change the subject. "So why did you enter the Tournament of Kings?


    "As I said when you were eavesdropping, I am acting in Raynald''s stead," said William. "But in all honesty, I was hoping to meet you."


    Relma paused. "Me? Why?"


    William looked at her. "Isn''t it obvious? You drew Lightning Trail. You also have the support of Gail Arengeth and Pandora. And you have several major accomplishments. Given that Benarus dislikes his current heir, he may cede control to you to spite her. In so doing, he would satisfy both his families'' oath and ensure the succession of the realm."


    "Wow, you figured all that out yourself?" asked Relma.


    "Thank you for confirming my suspicions. And no, I didn''t," said William. "Felix did, though Father probably suspects as much himself. Either way, I wanted to know what kind of person you were. We could end up being political enemies in the future."


    Massacre stood up and peered at her intently. The lion head licked its chops.


    "Bah," said the goat.


    "Erm, I''d rather avoid that," said Relma.


    William shrugged. "Then feel free to renounce your claim to the throne of Harlenor Reunited. Do that, and you don''t have to worry about politics. Otherwise, you should expect to make many enemies."


    Relma was surprised at how candid he was about this. He was a very strange person. "So you went through Brisgald on your way here, correct?"


    "Yes," said William.


    "What''s it like?" asked Relma. She''d heard a lot of stories about Brisgald, the impregnable fortress. It had never been taken. In the days of the elves, a great host of fifty thousand satyrs was said to have besieged it. That had been a host supported by dragons. Generations had passed seeking a way through.


    And in the end, the siege failed.


    Or so the legends said. However, Relma had her doubts about them being truthful. At the very least, they were exaggerated.


    "Quite nice since Duke Borinius was dethroned," said William. "Uncle has continued setting things to the right where Father left off. The villagers are quite happy with House Gabriel in control."


    "Why?" asked Relma, hoping to take him off guard.


    "We lowered taxes," said William. "Borinius taxed them to the hilt, so many starved on bad years. We had to conduct ourselves as something resembling decent human beings. Thus we became known as benevolent lords out of legend.


    "It was all very depressing."


    "Isn''t that where Duke Vanion made his pact with Melchious?" asked Relma.


    William stiffened. "It wasn''t a pact. It was a deal."


    Relma met his gaze. He looked back. "What is the difference between a pact and a deal?"


    William scoffed. "Don''t display your ignorance, Relma. The technical definition is irrelevant. My father made a deal with Melchious, then had second thoughts at the last minute. So he changed his plan, found out Borinius was guilty of treason, and exposed the plot.


    "Much good came from his actions, and Melchious got nothing in return. Father didn''t even owe him anything by the terms of the arrangement."


    "Well, what have we here?" asked a voice. "Some beardless boys playing at being knights?"


    And here they went. Relma turned around and saw a large, stubbled man with a bald head. He was a brute who''d mocked Ajax, just out of armor. He was staggering as if drunk. With him was Reginald, who was following slowly behind, looking resigned. Massacre arose to her feet and growled.


    "Stay your hand, Massacre," said William. "He isn''t worth it."


    "I can''t believe that this tournament has allowed a girl and a harping child into this tournament?" said the brute.


    "We ought to just let this go, Ham," said Reginald.


    "Or what? This damn... Gabriel, wouldn''t dare..." He seemed to lose his train of thought and put one hand on his sword. "I don''t... I don''t like the way they look at me."


    "Tell me, is there a particular reason you are bothering me?" asked William. "Don''t you have any better uses for your time than harassing someone with a chimera for a friend?"


    "You think I''m afraid of that thing? Cause I''m not," choked Ham.


    "Fear is a natural state of being experienced in response to danger," said William. "Overcoming it is courage. Eventually, you do not feel it at all, however. You have my sincerest condolences on your lack of intellect.


    "You must be a very well-trained monkey."


    "Say that again with a blade in your hand!" snarled Ham. And he began to draw his sword.


    At once, Reginald stepped between them. "Wait, wait, wait, we can''t do this!"


    "Oh, I think we can," said William, a slight smile on his face. His hand was on his sword. "I''ve no objection to cutting down a Hawkthorne after my trip."


    "Didn''t you people read the rules?" asked Reginald. "Fighting outside of the ring is strictly forbidden. So if either of you strikes the other down now, you''ll be thrown out and get nothing but a reputation as a thug. Win in the ring, though, and you''ll get renown and be on your way to winning riches!"


    William paused, then nodded. "...Fair enough."


    "I''ll..." Ham motioned with one finger. "I''ll see you in the ring." His voice was slurred.


    "Come on, Ham," said Reginald. "You''re making a fool of us."


    As Reginald led the man away, William sat back down. "I sincerely doubt I''ll face that man anywhere. I have a one-in-nine chance, and he won''t make it past the first round. His stance is sloppy."


    "Don''t you remember the roadside?" asked Felix. "He killed an entire caravan of armored men and freed their prisoners. Don''t be too quick to underestimate him. Ham is not to be underestimated."


    "If he intends to remain perpetually drunk, I have no reason to fear him," said William.


    "You were pretty calm for someone about to kill someone," said Relma. And he had been about to kill him. If that chimera had leaped, Ham would have been ripped to shreds. So what had happened on the journey to make William so quick to kill a Hawkthorne? Granted, they had a pretty reputation.


    "Control is essential," said William, pulling on a gauntlet. "As long as you have a clear mind and think rationally, you can find the path to victory. Lose control for a minute, though, and everything falls apart." He pulled on the other one.


    "Does this rational mind of yours tell you to pick fights?" asked Relma. "You provoked him. He was drunk."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Yes, Massacre, we know you wanted to eat him," said William, scratching her behind the ears. "Maybe next time. To answer your question, I would not disgrace my house by yielding ground to Sir Ham Hawkthorne."


    "Hawkthorne?" asked Relma.


    "Yes, the nephew of a fat noble known for never seeing combat," said William. "Baron Vladimir Hawkethorne. Among other things. He does business in whorehouses, and rarely pays his debts. He deals with criminals and vampires to achieve his goals."


    "So you try to keep a rational and clear mind except when your pride demands otherwise?" guessed Relma. "How convenient."


    William bowed dramatically and flourished his cape. "Welcome to the nobility, Relma Artorious." Then he put back on his helmet, and his voice was like death. "I hope you''ll enjoy your stay."

 Chapter Eight: The Tournament Begins

    The next day the tournament grounds were filled to the brim. People lined the stands, waiting for the coming matches while buying food and drink. Other games were underway, and merchants were selling at the fair.


    The contestants of the Tournament of Kings had been given a special booth. It was to the right of where Steward Benarus sat. There was a staircase leading quickly into the ring, a circle of white stones. Within, there was no grass.


    "Raleen, you''re here," said Estela.


    Relma sat down next to her. "Yes, I am," She looked over the eager crowds. "There are a lot of people here."


    "Well, it is the largest event we''ve had in years," said Estela. "We''re only part of it. But we''re the best part."


    Relma looked at the others. "There are twelve of us here, aren''t there?"


    "Yes," said Estela. "What of it?"


    "Wait," said Relma. "If that number gets cut in half in the first round and again in the second, we''ll end up with three finalists. Who will fight who?"


    "One of the finalists will fight two matches on different days," said Estela. "That''s the tradition, anyway."


    "Have you been to many tournaments?" asked Relma.


    "I''ve been to many of them," said Estela. "Though I haven''t fought in one before now." She loosened her sword in the sheath.


    At that moment, Davian made his appearance. As usual, no one could say where he had come from. Everyone looked at him. He was carrying a box with a hole cut in the top. "Welcome, all of you.


    "Now, before the matches can begin, we will have to perform a ceremony of sorts. Within this box, you will find a series of numbered markers. Each one represents a position in the contest."Come forward and take one, one at a time."


    De Cathe arose and made his way over. Then, reaching in, he removed it and came back. Estela looked on with interest. "De Cathe, what number did you get?"


    "Two," said De Cathe, raising it.


    "Two?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said De Cathe. "I will be in the first round."


    Estela came forward and took hers. She came back and looked at the note she found with narrowed eyes. Then she looked up to De Cathe.


    "How faired you, milady?" asked De Cathe.


    "I got one," said Estela. "I think we''ll be fighting each other in the ring."


    "Then I shall meet you on the field," said De Cathe.


    "Lady Raleen, please step forward," said Davian.


    Relma walked forward. As she did, she prayed she wouldn''t get matched up against Estela. Or Frederick. Or Ajax. Or William Gabriel. The people she might stand a chance of beating in this tournament could be counted on one finger. Technically speaking, she didn''t know if that dust elf or the black knight were any good. But she presumed they were qualified.


    That was more than she was.


    This had been a really bad idea. So she reflected as she reached into the box. The only person here she could see herself beating was Ham. He was just arrogant and stupid enough that he might get sloppy and leave her an opening.


    Reaching into the box, she drew out a note. "Hmm, six." Was that good? No telling; no one had been matched up against six. She''d face the person who picked five.


    William was next, and he drew out a note.


    "William, what did you get?" asked Relma. Please, not five.


    "Four," said William.


    Thank Elranor.


    "Sir Ajax," said Davian, sarcasm in his tone.


    Ajax stalked forward. His hand darted forward and snatched out a note faster than Relma could follow. He unrolled it and scoffed. "Nine."


    So she wouldn''t be fighting Ajax. Good. The last time she''d tried fighting him, she''d been soundly humiliated. She wasn''t up for a repeat.


    "Sir Garrick Estov," said Davian.


    The Dust Elf then came forward. Drawing out a card, he looked at it. An eyebrow was raised, and one of his ears twitched. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well?" asked Davian.


    "...Ten," said Garrick. He looked to Ajax. "It seems we will face each other in the field. I hope you understand I hold no ill will toward you or your people."


    Ajax smiled in a friendly fashion. "You''re a dead man."


    "Ajax, don''t get carried away," said Raleen. "Remember, accidents are allowed. Intentional killings are not."


    ''Idiot! Lady Raleen doesn''t know Ajax!" snarled a voice inside her.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "Don''t worry," said Ajax. "All my opponents will be alive at the end of this tournament."


    "I''m certain they will tell many stories of your defeat," said Garrick.


    "You may bluster later," said Davian. "The crowd awaits. Sir Frederick, come forward."


    Frederick did come forward. He drew out a note. "Seven."


    "Then you''ll be in the second to last bout of the first round," said Davian. "Sir Varsus Gabriel, if you would be so kind?"


    Varsus came forward and drew out yet another note. "Eight. It appears I will face Sir Frederick in the field of battle."


    So far, so good. All of the competent people had yet to be matched up against Relma. So maybe she''d get one round in before being humiliated. Why did she enter this tournament? She was the only squire here!


    "Hawkthorne, come forward," said Davian.


    Hawkthorne drew out a now and smirked unpleasantly as he read it. His eyes leered at Relma. "I got five. I guess I''ll first have to face the girl before I can get to the true challenge."


    Relma tried not to jump for joy. She also tried to look intimidating. She didn''t do a very good job either.


    "Sir, I suggest you conduct yourself with greater respect," said Frederick. "It is the custom in Gel Carn."


    "You," said Davian, pointing to the black knight, "come forward."


    The black knight approached and drew out a card. "Nine."


    "Who are you anyway?" asked Relma.


    "I asked to remain anonymous for my own purposes," said the black knight, voice like death. Though it was feminine after a fashion. "My name is written in the book."


    "Why are you hiding your identity?" asked Relma.


    The black knight gave her what might have been a flat look. Then she turned and walked off without a word.


    "Sir Reginald De Chevlon." said Davian.


    Reginald took out his note and smiled. "Ten. I guess I''m up against a girl as well."


    "Oh, please make judgments about my skills before you fight me," said the black knight. "It will be more satisfying when I hack off your limbs. Then I''ll rub the open wounds with salt and have my way with your wife as you slowly bleed out."


    Wait, was that Tanith? No, it couldn''t be. It was a Tanith thing to say, but she was too short and slight of frame. Reginald put a hand to his sword. "You-"


    "Ahem," said Davian. "That leaves Sir Gabriel facing our last contestant."


    "And where is he?" asked William. "I haven''t seen him anywhere."


    "He didn''t arrive at the last minute like everyone else," said Davian. "He was punctual, arriving at the first hour of the first day. He declined to attend the feast and has been watching from near Steward Benarus."


    "Is there any reason he can''t sit with the rest of us?" asked William.


    "None whatsoever," said Davian with a smile. "Now, the first three matches will take place today. Then, when they have finished, we will adjourn for the day and allow other competitions to occur. "While none of you who aren''t fighting are obligated to remain here, I suggest you stay to see the competition."


    Ajax turned. "Well, that counts me out of things. I''m going to go get something to eat."


    "Oh, come on, Ajax," said Relma. "You''ll miss my fight." So why was she even bothering with the disguise? And why was no one calling her on it? They couldn''t be this blind.


    "I''ll be back in time for it," said Ajax. "I want to take a look around this fair. There are a lot of things to smell."


    Relma sighed. "Sir Frederick, are you staying?"


    "I will be watching from the sidelines with Ronald," said Frederick, motioning. "There are some friends I want to meet with. Old comrades who didn''t enter the tournament."


    "Of course," said Relma.


    She looked to where Ronald was waiting for his master. She wished she could have spoken with him before the match. But he was always busy with his duties. Looking at the ring, she saw Davian take center stage. "


    "The first fight is about to begin. Lady Estela and Edward De Cathe step forward to the ring." Estela nodded to Relma, then walked forward with De Cathe. The crowd went wild as they took positions facing one another. Their hands were set to their swords, and their faces impassive.


    "Nobles and commoners! Knights and ladies! Welcome to the first round of the Tournament of Kings!" cried Davian. "Here, we will weed out the weak from the strong until only the noblest remain to go on to the true event!


    "For our first match, we have a Princes of Escor from the venerable House Vortegex! One of the three who retrieved the sword Lightning Trail! A valiant warrior who returned alive from the nightmarish Khasmir campaign!


    "I give you, Lady Estela Vortegex!"


    "Isn''t this a bit dramatic?" asked Relma, of no one in particular.


    "This is the way of things, milady," said Varsus. "The crowd enjoys it."


    "From the other side, we have another veteran of the Islands of Power!" said Davian. "A warrior who has fought on land, on the sea, and in the depth of the Black Marshes themselves! Edward De Cathe!" And Davian backed away.


    "Well," said Relma, "now we get to the fight."


    "Well, in theory," said Reginald.


    De Cathe drew his sword and flourished it in a sign of respect. "In the name of Escor, I salute you, Princess Estela."


    Estela returned the salute in a movement that perfectly mirrored De Cathe''s. Then they went at it, swords flashing in the sunlight as they fought back and forth. Their footwork was quick. They were soon circling each other with their blades singing. Estela struck with swiftly, while De Cathe was methodical in his parries. Yet De Cathe did not seem to be attacking very rapidly, or at all, really.


    "This is against tradition," said Reginald. "You''re supposed to mock each other and talk about how worthless the other one is."


    The crowd was cheering now. Relma listened and hoped they would cheer like that for her match. She''d hate to be a letdown. "They certainly seem to be evenly matched."


    "Hmm, it appears that way," said Varsus. "But I don''t believe it. De Cathe is utilizing a great deal of footwork here. Leaving Estela to make all the offensives. He may be trying to tire her out." Relma looked closer and saw he was right. Estela was the one making most of the moves. But soon, she pulled back and quietly overtook the field. They were still circling each other. But they were looking for weaknesses, not attacking.


    "It looks like she has caught on, though," said Reginald. "This could be anyone''s game."


    Then the battle continued in earnest.


    "You''re wrong, Reginald," said Varsus. "The fight is already over."


    "What do you mean?" asked Reginald.


    "Haven''t you noticed that they are deliberately avoiding strikes?" asked Varsus. "This fight is more about spectacle. Both are attempting to stall."


    "To what end?" asked Relma.


    "Spectacle, obviously," said William.


    Then, suddenly, De Cathe made a clumsy lunge. Estela caught it with her own blade, and with a twist of her sword, she sent the blade spinning to the ground. Her blade was at De Cathe''s throat, and the man raised his hands and fell to his knees in defeat. Estela picked up De Cathe''s sword, offered it to him, and helped him.


    The crowd went wild.


    "...You have bested me, Princess Estela," said De Cathe. "You are true of the line of Vortegex. Therefore, I will not contest you any further."


    "A bit of good fortune for me," said Estela. "Nothing more."


    "Of course," said De Cathe, nodding respectfully.


    "Yes!" cheered Relma.


    Estela saluted the crowd before turning and walking back to the stand. Relma ran to meet her. But Estela''s face was furious.


    "Estela, you won!" said Relma, hugging her.


    "Hardly," scoffed Estela, sitting down and huffing her cloak around her. "He threw the fight out of loyalty. If he defeated me on stage, it would humiliate my house.


    "This wasn''t a real victory."


    "Oh," said Relma. "Well, there is always next time, I guess. Whose second?"


    "William against a knight of Antion," said Davian, appearing suddenly as usual. "Sir William Gabriel, Sir Joseph Korlac, your time has come."


    Who was Joseph Korlac?

 Chapter Nine: William and Korlac

    Joseph Korlac walked out from the stand. He drew a gleaming white sword and threw aside his black cloak as he did. Beneath was shining mail. His hair was dark and long, and his eyes gray. He was a tall man, though not much older than William. He wore armor that glinted in the sun and had a long black cloak around him, which he shed as he stepped into the ring.


    William stood silent, his weather-beaten and crimson cloak still in the wind. They looked at one another in silent challenge. Relma wondered what they were thinking of and who his opponent was?


    "Who is this Joseph Korlac?" asked Relma.


    "The son of a powerful Lord of Eastern Antion," said Reginald, bringing back a tray full of food and drink. He sat down and passed some to each of them. "He shares borders with the realm of Sorn, and his family is one of the richest. They are rivals with the Gabriels."


    "They''re a bunch of stuck-up prigs," snapped Hawkthorne as he came forward. He munched on a chicken leg and drank beer like a starving man. "They think they''re better than the Hawkthornes. All just because of a couple of their ancestors. We founded the Kingdom of Escor and get no respect for it."


    "I expect they think they are better because of the present state of your house," said Varsus. "And you didn''t find Escor; you founded a completely different nation in the Fairy Hills. Which is now part of Escor."


    "You shut your mouth, or I''ll do it for you," snapped Hawkthorne.


    "By all means-" began Varsus.


    "Can we not start a fight in the stands?" asked Reginald, munching on some chicken leg and drinking beer. "I don''t want to make a scene."


    Hawkthorne looked down. "...Right, sorry, Reginald." He drew out a flask and drank from it before sitting down.


    "I haven''t heard much about these Korlacs?" said Relma, sipping her drink.


    "If you must know, House Korlac is a very old and venerable family," said Varsus. "They have vast tracts of land and provide much of King Andoa''s armies. Although recently, they''ve been shut out of politics because of certain factions. Corrupt officials tend to be paranoid about those who zealously enforce the law.


    "They dwell on the critical borders with the nation of Sorn and stayed loyal when they seceded. Now House Gabriel is growing in power and threatening to take that from them. Nobles never give up anything easily."


    "I know what William has done," said Relma. "But what sorts of things has Joseph done?" S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Not much. Not in war, I gather," said Varsus. "But that isn''t his specialty.


    "He is a very firm supporter of law and managed to shut down a large ring of smugglers. Several rings. Also, root out most of the bandit gangs in his dominions."


    Finally, Korlac spoke, voice polite. "William Gabriel, I have heard stories of your valor upon the battlefield. It is my great honor to fight against so well-documented a foe on this field." Well-documented? Was that a compliment? "Your exploits have ensured the flow of malas into many lands legally."


    "Korlac is almost hunting malas peddlers," said Reginald. "The House believes it shouldn''t be sold at all. Though he missed a shipment recently. I heard rumors that the Sorcerer''s Guild has people selling it in it."


    "Written word passes away while deeds remain forever," said William. His voice held an edge. "And much news has come to me of your deeds as much as my own. But, no doubt, the footpads and thieves must cower at the mention of your name. Their knives and handaxes are nothing before the noose.


    "Though I wonder if perhaps you find such lightly armored fair, poor sport."


    "Ouch," said Reginald.


    "A poor sport for a knight, but one in which all can be of service," said Korlac. "I take more pride in my successes at sea. Unfortunately, I gather your luck has been less good in that fashion."


    "Far from it," said William. "For luck, good and ill, is defined by what you make of it. And I have made much of poor fortune. While you have gained much through many blessings bestowed on you."


    "These two really hate each other," said Relma. Though it was good dialogue, she wondered if they''d rehearsed it.


    "There is a saying that one is given the fortune which one shares with the world," said Korlac. The crowd cheered.


    "I should not recite sayings which you have not put to the test," said William. "But enough of this; let us understand why we are here."


    "So be it," said Korlac.


    William drew his sword. And then it was like he was someone else entirely. He roared and charged forward with eyes flaring and shield raised. Obviously, Korlac was surprised, and the older noble was forced to yield ground. The crowds cheered as William''s sword clipped Korlac''s helm.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The noble fell backward, and his helm fell from his head. His dark hair fell out as he rolled away from William''s strikes. Then, rising quickly, he struggled to get up as William loomed over him, shield raised.


    "Stand up, Sir Korlac.," said William.


    Korlac rose with a stab upwards, and William stepped backward beneath his attacks. William ducked and weaved, nearing the edge of the ring. As he reached it, he slid to a halt and brought around his shield to bash against Korlac. The force of the blow sent Korlac reeling, and he was forced onto the defensive again.


    They stepped in circles, slashing and bashing in a vicious fight. Then, at last, they separated, breathing heavily. William''s flaming eyes blaze a bit less as Korlac held his ground. The dark-haired man''s arm was shaking.


    Then they rushed at each other. For a moment, they were closing, their cloaks flowing behind them in the morning light. Blade and blade were surging for a mark. Both swords caught the light, and there was a blinding flash.


    Relma shielded her eyes from it as the crowd did, and the two had passed one another. William was turning, but Korlac was more nimble.


    Korlac slammed his sword down onto William''s shoulder. The boy fell to one knee and reeled back, catching himself on the one hand with a cry of pain. Then, blindly, he stabbed Korlac. There were sparks, and his blade was driven straight through Korlac''s mail. Korlac gasped, blood pouring from his mouth.


    William drew out his blade and fell to one knee. He struggled to stand, blood leaking from his mail. Korlac collapsed to his knees, clutching his stomach. His black sword fell from his grasp, and he suddenly lunged forward.


    Setting his hands on Korlac''s shoulder, there was a flash of light. Then William fell to one knee and drew off his helmet to reveal his face. Korlac''s stomach wound had healed.


    Silence fell over the crowd as the two nobles looked at each other. Then, finally, the two rose, picking up their blades. "I apologize, Sir Korlac," said William. "I was too aggressive in my assault."


    "I was not expecting it," admitted Korlac, holding his broken armor.


    "That was the purpose," said William with a wince. "You broke my shoulder."


    "I''ve never been injured like that before. It''ll stay with me," said Korlac.


    "Good," said William. "Pain is how we learn."


    And then they kept on fighting. The crowd cheered as the combat continued, and William and Korlac continued to duel. Relma began to pick out differences. Korlac seemed to use the flow of combat to propel him, while William was always aggressive. At first glance, they seemed equally matched.


    But William was stronger. His blows always seemed to land harder. Even so, he gave up several chances to knock him flat.


    "This fight is over," said Varsus.


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "They''re stalling," said Reginald. "Filling out the fight. The audience has come here to see a battle. Not a real fight.


    "Real fights are over quickly."


    "Yeah, especially when you fight Ajax," said Relma in agreement.


    The cheers continued as the two of them dragged it on. William repeatedly slammed Korlac''s shield until the shield bent and broke. How strong was he? He wasn''t even all that older than her.


    William shed his shield in a dramatic gesture that sent the crowd wild. The two held their blades two-handed and clashed against one another. Korlac was driven back before slipping to one knee and striking William''s leg. Gabriel knocked the sword out of Korlac''s hand, then put a blade to Korlac''s throat.


    "Yield," said William.


    Korlac arose, raising his hand in good humor. "Consider me yielded."


    William offered him a hand, and Korlac clasped it. The two shook, then turned to return to their places. They paused only to pick up their weapons as Davian proclaimed the victory.


    "So what would happen if someone beat another fighter very quickly?" asked Relma.


    "It would be a violation of courtesy," said Varsus. "Potentially a grave insult. Letting the other side seem like they stood a chance is a tradition.


    "Even if they didn''t."


    "So you''re supposed to avoid winning as long as possible?" said Relma.


    "Yes," said Reginald. "The real trick is making it clear you could have won any time." This was complicated, wasn''t it? Relma wondered if she shouldn''t have done more research on the traditions. She''d never been to a tourney before.


    Relma broke off and went to greet William as he came up the steps. He had his battered shield slung over his back and helmet under one arm. He looked exhausted. "Sir Gabriel, congratulations," said Relma.


    "Thank you," said William, walking past.


    Relma followed after him. He''d used healing magic earlier. That must have been the power he got from Elranor. But she couldn''t heal a broken shoulder and be impaled without breaking a sweat. "So, uh, that was a really aggressive attack."


    William grasped a skin and opened it before pouring water into his mouth. Then he pulled it down and stopped it. "I was trained by Raynald De Chevlon. He can''t use a shield, so his fighting style is about the offense. Of course, I learned other fighting styles, but I felt an aggressive one would be best."


    "It took me by surprise," said Relma.


    "That was the idea," said William. "Put forth the image of a refined gentleman, then reveal me as a berserker."


    "Is that why you wear the skull armor?" asked Relma, not putting any sarcasm into her voice. "Even though you''re a paladin."


    "There is never a circumstance where surprise cannot provide an advantage," said William. "You just need to find it. Unfortunately, I learned that the hard way in Khasmir."


    "The circumstance or the advantage?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said William.


    "Interesting philosophy." said another voice.


    They looked up to see Joseph Korlac approaching. "My father taught me that deception is ultimately a poison. Men who gain a momentary advantage through wicked means may triumph for a day. But the very nature of their acts infects them, leading to their ultimate destruction."


    "Deception is not an inherent evil," said William. "It may be used for evil. But when a man runs for his life from murderers, is it a good deed to point them in his direction?"


    "I suppose it depends on the man''s nature," said Korlac. "I admit, I wasn''t expecting to win here. I was hoping to get past the first round, however."


    "That''s about all I''m hoping for," noted Relma.


    William sighed. "I was hoping that in my first battle, I''d prove valiant and win a great victory. Instead, I cringed and nearly lost my life. The only decent thing I did during the battle was to leap into the sea to save a friend."


    "How old were you?" asked Relma.


    "Fourteen," said William.


    "Right, of course; you are nearly sixteen now, aren''t you?" asked Korlac.


    "Yes," said William. "Though happily for some of those I saved on the road, not quite. Why do you ask?"


    "No particular reason," said Korlac. "To have become a knight at so young an age is an impressive feat. I''m surprised I never heard of your knighting." But wait, Korlac was just a little older than William? Maybe a year.


    "Yes," said William. "And news rarely travels quickly when one does not make a scene."


    "Would Lady Raleen and Sir Hawkthorne come forward," said Davian. "Your match is about to begin."Relma nodded and walked over to Davian. She looked to Estela nervously, who raised a hand¡ªwishing her good luck.


    Relma was going to win this.

 Chapter Ten: Relmas Match

    The ring looked very different as Relma walked into it.


    Yes, on the surface, it was all the same. But something about it struck her as she walked past the smooth white stones. She heard the crowds cheering and looked to where Ham was eyeing her contemptuously. The sun beat down far harder than usual on her armor, and she heard her breathe in the helmet.


    They took their places. And Relma knew she was not going to let the crowd down. She''d give them a show if nothing else.


    "People of Harlenor!" cried Davian. "Our next match in this tournament is between two warriors of new blood. I give you a relative novice of rising skill, Lady Raleen of House Artorious! She''s here with plans to prove herself! And in the other corner, Sir Ham Hawkthorne has no intention of letting this young girl show him up! S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "But who will emerge victorious?!


    "Only time will tell!"


    "Where are Frederick and Ronald?" wondered Relma.


    "I''m in a good mood," said Ham. "So, I''ll give you one chance to back out."


    "That''s somewhat ill-advised," noted Relma, trying to talk like William. "Because we''re the weakest people in this tournament. I mean, everyone else here has combat experience. I haven''t heard of any accomplishments on your part."


    She''d gotten under his skin, and Ham drew his sword. "How many merchant vessels have you seized?" snarled Ham.


    "Okay, I admit. Unfortunately, you have helped prey on defenseless merchants," said Relma.


    The crowd laughed. Relma felt a bit guilty. And then she felt less guilty when Ham tried to cut her head off. She barely warded off his strikes with her shield and staggered back.


    He unleashed a flurry of blows. Each one seemed like it had the force of a mountain behind it. All Relma could wonder was how their voices carried out to the stands. It was magic. This was challenging. Her muscles were burning. She hadn''t managed to get her shield out, and Ham made every attack harder to deflect than the last.


    She felt detached from herself. Like she was a passenger in her flesh, her attachment faded more and more as she stumbled backward and landed. Where were Ronald and Frederick? She glimpsed them out of the corner of her eye. Then she saw Ham raising his sword with rage across his face. Relma reflected that if he killed her, he''d be disqualified. She''d better dodge. And dodge she did, rolling aside as his blade sank into the dirt. She rose to her feet and drew her sword. As he dislodged his blade, she slashed at him. He blocked it with his shield, and she was driven backward. But this time, she had better control.


    "Come on, Raleen, keep your head!" called Ronald.


    She was keeping her head. She needed to find out if she was in it. As she stepped aside, she thought. "You can respond. You can do this. Just keep moving. Keep parrying; he''ll tire."


    Ham was attacking her in a fury. He struck again and again. She was having difficulty keeping up. Still, she wasn''t using as much energy, even if her arm felt numb from blocking all these strikes.


    "This isn''t fighting with sticks, you impudent bitch!" roared Ham.


    He was angry, wasn''t he? Still, he seemed to be regaining control of himself. He was slowing down a bit and letting her get some distance. Relma lowered her shield and looked at him beneath her helmet.


    "Come on, girl, why don''t you just give up?" he hissed.


    "Why don''t you?" asked Relma.


    And then it began again. Ham attacked and attacked, and Relma defended. And as they did, Relma realized that the crowd was losing interest. They didn''t come here to see someone gradually worn down. They came here to see a fight.


    She could ignore them. But she''d much prefer to put on a show. Still, if she attacked, Ham would win. He was very good at attacking.


    So maybe she should make a mistake.


    She fell to one knee as he made a downward stroke. Then, catching it on her shield, she slashed at his armored legs. Ham leaped into the air to dodge the motion, which gave her an opening. Relma rushed forward and slammed her shield into him, sending him sprawling to the ground. His sword was flung from his hand.


    Relma realized she could attack him while he was down. So he did the same to her. But instead, she made her way over to the fallen sword, picked it up by the blade, and offered it to him.


    "Stand up," said Relma.


    Ham took the blade. And then he threw dust in her eyes. Relma staggered back. She got as far as possible but felt something smash against her helm. She was thrown back and landed hard. Then, as her eyes cleared, she raised her shield to block Ham''s strikes.


    He hit her repeatedly, and her arm was in agony from the blows. Her shield was battered and dented. Then the boos from the crowd reached Ham, who halted and stepped backward. Relma stood up.


    "You''ll pay for that," hissed Ham.


    "For letting you get back on your feet?" asked Relma.


    "For humiliating me," said Ham.


    And then he surged forward. But, even as he did, he fell to one knee and struck at her legs. Relma backed away, but the blow glanced off her leg armor, and she winced in pain. And then the fight went on. But Relma''s leg was hurting.


    She couldn''t keep this up forever.


    Why hadn''t she just put her sword to his throat and been done with it? She''d have won then. However, this made her look much better. And there were worse ways to be knocked out of a tournament.


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    Her knee gave out, and she hit the ground in exhaustion. Her lungs were burning, and her heart was racing. And Ham was taking the time to gloat. "This is it for you, brat."


    Relma threw herself forward and grabbed him by the legs. Ham fell forward and hit the ground. As he toppled over, Relma got up and turned around. Ham had lost his grip on his sword again. He was scrambling through the dirt to get it.


    Relma closed the distance as a walk and put one foot on the blade. Ham glared up, then rose and drew out a dagger. In one move, Relma knocked it from his hand. Her sword was now at his throat.


    She must have looked very good.


    "The match is over!" proclaimed Davian, and the people cheered. "Sir Hawkthorne has been disarmed, and Raleen''s sword is at his throat! The match is finished, and Raleen has won!"


    "Damn it, a girl won''t beat me!" hissed Ham.


    But Davian put a hand on his shoulder. "Sir Ham, the fight is over. Any further combat is meaningless."


    Relma turned away and looked at the people cheering. They were cheering for her. She raised her sword in salute to them, trying to keep the smile from her face.


    Then there was a roar. Turning around, Relma saw Ham coming at her, broadsword in hand. There was no time to respond.


    And then Ajax was between them. His hand caught Ham''s arm in hand, and he smiled. Then Ham screamed as his wrist was crushed.


    Ajax raised a leg and kicked Ham in the chest, reeling him. Ham landed on the ground, and the wolf demon was on him, crushing his other arm beneath his leg. Then Ajax began to slash and beat him violently, smiling the entire time.


    "Ajax! Stop! Stop it!" cried Relma, grabbing him and trying to pull him back.


    Ajax stepped back. Ham was a broken and bloodied mess on the ground. With that kind of injury, no healer alive could fix him completely. His throat was cut, and he was bleeding. She stared at Ajax. "Ajax, that wasn''t necessary."


    Ajax shrugged. "He came at you with a sword and broke the rules. I saw an opportunity to cut his throat, and I took it."


    Relma looked away. "So do I."


    She kneeled by Ham and set her hands on him. Then, channeling the power of Elranor, she tried to heal him. First, she went for his throat. She felt her body tighten as she mended his throat. He wasn''t in danger of dying, but he was still severely injured.


    She tried to heal his broken bones. There were so many of them. But she couldn''t; it was taking everything she could...


    And then, William was there. "Lady Raleen, are you all right?"


    "I''ve healed the worst wounds," said Relma. "But he''ll need more, more..."


    And then William set his hand to Ham''s brow. Instantly, the wounds mended. The bones knitted, and his breath returned to normal. Ham was no longer injured at all. Merely unconscious. William stood up, not even a bit tired.


    Relma stared in awe. "How did you do that?"


    "I practice healing the sick and injured every day," said William with a shrug. "And I have a talent for it."


    Why hadn''t Relma thought of that? If she spent her time practicing healing people, she could have healed Ham. Instead, she felt a bit guilty. She shouldn''t have to rely on other people for this.


    Even so, she walked back to the stand and was met by Estela. "Nicely done, Relma. You have gotten a lot better."


    "Well, Aunt Pan always said I learn quickly," said Relma. "Do you think she was watching?"


    "How should I know?" asked Estela. "Anyway, most of the others have gone off by now. You were healing Ham for a long time."


    "Did Reginald ask after him?" asked Relma.


    "He muttered ''idiot'' under his breath and walked off," said Estela. "I suspect he''ll shun him socially after this."


    "I feel a bit sorry for Ham," said Relma.


    "You''re joking," said Estela.


    "His insecurities are going to cause him serious problems," said Relma. "And he didn''t hurt me."


    "He tried to kill you," said Estela.


    "And failed," said Relma.


    And then she felt that feeling of dread. It had not appeared. It had merely hidden and now was letting itself be known. Relma looked up and saw Felix leaning in the shadows. His eyes were hidden beneath his hair, and his black cloak shrouded his entire body. "Hmm, so Lady Raleen has a personal connection to Pandora. She calls her the same name as the Heir of Kings and is about the same height and weight. I wonder what the connection is?"


    "You... you''re that Calishan slave who''s always skulking about Gabriel," said Estela. "What do you want?"


    Felix looked up, smiling. And somehow more intimidating than his normal expression. It was like he was wearing a mask; his true nature showed through this wide smirk. "Duke Vanion doesn''t keep slaves. He pays servants. House Gabriel understands well that a man who is motivated by fear is not a loyal one.


    "And I suggest you speak with a degree more care."


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "Well, if a squire were to enter the tournament in disguise, someone might reveal the fact," said Felix. "And if it was revealed, they would naturally be disqualified.


    "Relma Artorious."


    Okay, so he was blackmailing her. "...What do you want?" asked Relma.


    "Nothing," said Felix. "I intend to tell William who you are, of course, but I expect he already knows. He isn''t nearly as foolish as he appears.


    "If he asks me for my advice, I will naturally suggest we let the matter pass. But, doubtless, he will do the same."


    "Because he''s not a knight, you mean?" said Estela.


    His smile stiffened. "You are quick to make assumptions."


    "It isn''t an assumption. A direct family member can''t knight you," said Estela. "That was in the code of Anoa. It''s why knights always go far in the field to prove themselves. William was sent back to Arsheen as soon as the battle was over.


    "And I didn''t hear anything about a knighting.


    "If Relma gets disqualified from this tournament, your master will follow."


    "If I meant to get you disqualified, I should not have approached you in the first place," said Felix. "I am suggesting that you be more careful in the future.


    "Good day." And he turned to walk away.


    Estela relaxed visibly. "...He is right. You really should be more careful, Relma. How will you even explain things when it comes time to take your helmet off?"


    "That''s part of the plan," said Relma. "See, if I lose the tournament, who I am doesn''t matter. But if I win it, I''ll be able to reveal myself. It''ll make me famous."


    "Fame can be a bad thing, you know. It attracts jealous rivals," said Estela.


    "Well, yes, but it will show Fayn I''m qualified," said Relma.


    "Well, that would be nice to show her up," said Estela. "Unfortunately, you''ll have to defeat me to get there, and I don''t intend to lose." She turned away. "Come on, follow me."


    "Where to?" asked Relma.


    "I''m going to the archery contest," said Estela. "I''ll see if I can win it."


    "Archery? Estela, you''ll be going up against Dust Elves," said Relma.


    "I know," said Estela, voice keen. "Ever since elves were included in things, no human has ever scored higher than third place. So I''m hoping to beat them at their own game."


    "I didn''t even know you were an archer. Well, more than anyone else," said Relma.


    "House Vortegex specializes in archery," said Estela. "Now, let''s get out of this armor and find Ronald. There won''t be more duels for the rest of the day, so let''s make the most of it."

 Chapter Eleven: Contest of Wills

    Hours later, an arrow shot straight and true from a singing bow. It plunged into the red on the target, and the crowds cheered. None of the other members of the competition had done nearly so well. Estela smiled triumphantly.


    "Estela is doing well in the contest, isn''t she?" said Ronald as another contestant was disqualified.


    "She''s gotten similar points to elven champions," said Relma, feeling awed despite herself.


    On and on, the cheers went. This was the first time in decades that anyone had beaten the elves at their own game. Andoa II legalizing the participation of elves had seen them dominating the sport. Now a human was in the last three.


    "The crowd certainly seems to like her," said Relma. Then she looked to Garrick Estov. He was now one of two remaining rivals. Every shot Estela had taken had been in the red. The same was true of Garrick.


    So it was no surprise when the other elf, a high elf named Everest, was finally defeated. He''d been dispatched by Queen Dawn and had dominated before now. Relma felt sorry for him as he walked off the field. But she knew she shouldn''t; not everyone could win.


    But she did.


    At least Everest would be getting a third-place prize.


    "Who is that anyway?" asked Ronald, pointing to Garrick. He''d gotten in late, just in time for the finals.


    "That one?" asked Relma. "His name is Garrick. He was in the tournament stands."


    "Why didn''t I see him then?" asked Relma.


    "Dust Elves are very good at remaining unseen," said Aunt Pan where she was sitting a bit away. She was knitting, pausing only every now and then to look up. "It''s their great virtue."


    "So this Garrick, is he any good?" asked Ronald. "At sword fighting, I mean."


    "Well, he wields a sword as larger as he is tall," said Aunt Pan. "I have not seen him in action. However, I am told he is a mercenary of some renown in Sorn. He isn''t a knight, of course, although he is a member of an order of knights. Though knighthood doesn''t exist in Sorn.


    "It''s complicated." S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Relma blinked. "Now hang on a moment, I had to" She paused. "I mean, if a human or halfling who wasn''t a knight wanted to get in, they would have to get a magical disguise or something. So why should this Garrick be able to enter?"


    Aunt Pan shrugged. "Dust Elves don''t have a feudal system. They are a meritocracy. Though they pay for it with cutthroat politics.


    "Since they don''t have knights, there is an honorary system so they can be represented."


    "Honorary system?" asked Relma.


    "Sir Frederick says the Dust Elven communities are given special rules. They elect someone to represent them in tournaments," said Ronald. "As long as they have proof that they are such a representative, they can get in."


    "Why not just tell them to knight somebody and follow the rules," muttered Relma.


    "Does that not apply to you as well?" asked Aunt Pan.


    Relma paused. "Oh. Um... a good point. Actually, uh, Estela and Edward De Cathe saw right through my disguise. There might be some kind of weakness to people I know."


    "Don''t be foolish," said Aunt Pan. "I didn''t bother casting a spell."


    Relma blinked. "Why not?"


    "Never use magic when a proper conversation will do, dear," said Aunt Pan. "I simply went to Steward Benarus and explained the situation. I then talked to Edward De Cathe and Estela, who I knew would be joining, and told them not to make a scene of it.


    "Everyone else at the tournament doesn''t know you to begin with. So unless they met you as Relma, there would be no way to connect the fact."


    "But why would Steward Benarus allow it?" asked Relma.


    "Because it is a good plan," said Aunt Pan. "And I convinced him as such. If he ever hands things over to you, you''ll have to be popular. And nobles respect skill at arms. This is a way to demonstrate both."


    "But what if I wasn''t ready?" asked Relma. "I mean, I''ve only had a few months of training."


    "You have an unfair advantage," said Pan. "That''s why I''m hoping you''ll lose. Defeat is educational."


    "Thanks for the vote of confidence," said Relma. "You didn''t answer my question about why we can''t just get a lord to knight them."


    "When a lord knights someone, it gives them a sort of claim over that person," said Aunt Pan. "Nothing official, but there is an unspoken obligation. Dust Elves don''t like being obligated to anyone. Have you ever heard of Arraxia?"


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    "No, who was she?" asked Relma.


    "One of the most horrific murderers ever," said Ronald. "Escor tried to exert authority over her people. In response, she started the Escorian Civil War."


    "Don''t be foolish, Ronald," said Aunt Pan. "The Escorian Civil War would have happened anyway. It was only a question of when and how."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "It is complicated," said Aunt Pan. "The line of Escorian Kings had been discredited in a series of defeats. Both from the Viokins from the north and the Barabassians to the west. Individual noble houses had gained more and more power. Many of these noble houses wanted to become king.


    "Father and I spent years trying to patch things up. For a moment, we even thought things might work out. The friendship of Rundas De Chevlon, Erik Gabriel, and Malca Vortegex was our great hope."


    "You mean Erik the Voyager?" asked Relma, having heard the name.


    "Yes," said Aunt Pan. "At the time, the Gabriel family was unimportant, and Rundas was a rebellious teenager. Malca was his oldest friend. They had many adventures and traveled across the entire world. Stories are told of them in lands thousands of miles away.


    "Eventually, they returned in glory. Rundas De Chevlon became the head of the family, while Erik and Malca founded their own houses. They became very close."


    "So what happened?" asked Relma.


    "Well, my hope was that Rundas would marry one of his daughters into the Royal House," said Aunt Pan. "Unfortunately, King Valence Tirius III hated the De Chevlon''s passionately. But he had no son. So he offered Erik a political marriage instead.


    "Erik took the marriage and was set to become King of Escor.


    "Unfortunately, Valence also tried to force the Dust Elves into the fold. They resisted. Violently. The De Chevlon''s took the Dust Elves'' side, and so began the Escorian Civil War.


    "Oh, and there was something about a vampire conspiracy battling werewolves. Or something to that effect. Honestly, it didn''t seem very important to me. Father was the one who dealt with that part of things. Though I gather House Vortegex disagreed with my assessment. At least they used it to justify their betrayal of the De Chevlons."


    Relma blinked. Why would vampires and werewolves be unimportant? "That''s all very complicated."


    "You''d best learn to follow all this, dear," said Aunt Pan. "If you ever rule anything, you''ll soon learn that Kings have to deal with this kind of conspiracy all the time."


    "Quiet!" said Ronald. "The final round is happening."


    Estela and Garrick walked out onto the field. Taking their place before the targets, they strung their bows and took stances. Then Garrick looked to Estela. "You are remarkably skilled for a human."


    "We Vortegex''s have a passion for archery," said Estela proudly. "And I have a talent."


    "Then, by all means, take the first shot," said Garrick.


    Estela bowed, then drew her arrow. Setting it to her bow, she hesitated for only a moment. Then he drew back and loosed with a twang. The arrow shot swiftly and surely and struck the target dead center. Relma arose and cheered. The crowd cheered with her. Estela leaped.


    "Yes!" cried Estela. "A perfect bullseye! There is no beating that!"


    "I shouldn''t count your eggs before they hatch," said Garrick.


    "He''s just blustering," said Ronald. "What is he going to do? Split the arrow in half?"


    "Don''t be foolish," said Aunt Pan. "That isn''t possible. Not with a normal bow and arrow, anyway. There isn''t enough surface area on an arrow for the point to imbed itself; the momentum would make it bounce off. Besides, the archery contest is determined by points. So he need only do something more impressive than what Estela has done on his own target."


    "Tell me, Lady Estela," said Garrick. "Would you mind if I did something creative with my target?"


    Estela looked at him oddly, then shrugged. "By all means."


    Garrick walked into the place and drew out a cloth of dark fabric. The crowd was silent, waiting on edge. The only sound was a bird chirping in a tree, just beyond the target range. Garrick wrapped the black cloth around his eyes.


    "What is he doing?" asked Relma.


    "Tying a blindfold around his eyes, I would guess," said Aunt Pan.


    Garrick secured the blindfold. Then, drawing an arrow back on his bow, he fired. The arrow shot straight and true and landed dead center on his target. The crowd went wild with endless cheering. Garrick removed his blindfold and allowed himself a small smile.


    Estela stared. "...How did you do that?"


    "I have very keen ears," said Garrick. "A bird was chirping on that tree over there." He motioned. "I listened for it and used the sound to aim my shot." He paused. "Don''t stop on my account. By all means, take your second shot."


    Estela looked around. This was bad. Estela had to do something awe-inspiring to beat that. And even if Estela did the same feat as Garrick, it would be less impressive. She looked to a servant. "You! Get me twenty axes which can hang from walls, now!"


    They waited as the request was obeyed. Relma shifted nervously as Estela received her axes. Taking them, she set them up, one by one, planting each one in a perfect line. A line leading to another target. Each one had a ring from which it would be hung from a wall.


    "What is Estela up to now?" asked Relma.


    Estela looked around. "I''m going to shoot this arrow through all of the rings in these axes."


    "A challenging shot," noted Garrick. "Are you sure you aren''t setting yourself up for failure?"


    "I know what I''m doing," said Estela.


    She drew an arrow and pulled it back. For a long moment, she held the arrow in place. A bead of sweat fell down her brow. She blinked it away. Then she launched.


    The arrow was launched. It went clean through every ring and struck the target dead center. Deafening cheers went up throughout the stands. It went on for minutes, and Estela smiled before bowing.


    Garrick nodded. "...Well done; I admit I haven''t met a human with your skills in some time. Still, there remains a yet more impressive feat to make. It would be impossible to make it more difficult, of course. Not without planning, we have no time for it.


    "So why don''t we up the stakes.


    "Rusun, come forward." He said to the stands.


    Out of the stands walked a elven dust boy. He looked about Relma''s age, which meant he was much older. They were each holding an apple. Walking to the target, they lined up, and each balanced an apple on their head.


    Garrick set an arrow to his bow.


    "What are you doing?" asked Estela.


    "This is my friend and associate," said Garrick. "And my nephew. He has come to this place to meet me alongside his parents, who dwell in the Dusk Lands to the East. I am going to shoot an apple from his head.


    "Stand still."


    "You''re insane," said Estela. "What if you hit him?"


    Garrick looked at her blankly. "Then I will be emotionally affected for a time."


    "This is going too far," said Estela.


    "Ah, perhaps it has. But I mean to win this tournament," said Garrick. "Rusun has risked life and limb in contests of arms before. This is but one more."


    "He''s family," said Estela.


    "Yes. Yes, he is," said Garrick.


    He drew back his bow and fired in an instant. The arrow shot straight through the apple and pinned it to the target. Even larger cheers came. The crowd was screaming itself hoarse. Garrick turned to Estela. "Now, would you care to match my gamble?"


    "Gamble?" asked Estela. "You just shot an arrow over the head of your nephew."


    "I know," said Garrick. "You and I are now both subject to the law of escalation. You scored a perfect bullseye, necessitating my use of the blindfold. I made the shot, requiring you to use the axe handles. So now we have gone from cloth and metal to flesh and blood.


    "If you cannot contest me in this, you need only fire a shot, and the contest is over.


    "Or, you can call forward someone very dear to you and hope they heed the call. And trust in your skill that they will not be harmed.


    "Make your choice."


    Estela remained silent. If she didn''t do just that, she''d lose the contest. Estela hated losing at anything. She drew an arrow and set it to her bow. Lining it on target, she pulled back.


    Then she lowed the bow and looked to the crowd. "...Relma, come forward."


    Relma stopped. She didn''t like the idea of standing before a target. She knew Estela was a good shot, but what if she missed? But if she stayed here, she''d humiliate Estela.


    "Don''t do it. Relma. You could get hurt." said Ronald.


    "Estela will lose if I don''t," said Relma.


    "She could lose anyway, and if she does, you could die!" said Ronald.


    "Stay where you are, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "This is absurd. The contest should have never gone this far. I will not let you get hurt for the sake of Estela winning-"


    Relma was not listening anymore. She was the last Heir of Kings. Until she had children or killed Baltoth, she could not die. Right, right, so Estela couldn''t miss her. That was what Relma told herself as she walked forward.


    She reached Garrick, who drew out one of the red fruit. "You may use this."


    Relma took it and walked in front of a target. She did her best to balance the fruit on her head, but it took several times. Her hands were shaking. She was afraid, and once again, she felt detached.


    Estela drew back her bow. "Stay still, Relma."


    "I recommend firing quickly," said Garrick. "Hold your shot too long, and your hand may shake."


    Estela held the bow in place. Her hands were shaking, but she steadied them. For a moment more, she held it, aiming. Then there was the twang of a bowstring, and Relma felt a piercing sensation in her chest.


    She reeled backward, the apple falling from her head. An arrow was sticking out of her, and her eyes were dark...


    "Relma!" she heard Estela scream. And then it was over.

 Chapter Twelve: A Matter of the Heart

    Relma woke up. The pain in her stomach was dulled, and she could see a fire smoldering over in the corner. A window was open high above in the wall from which light was streaming down, and she was warm. And she didn''t have an arrow sticking out of her, so that was good. Unless the white covers were hiding the fact. Gradually her vision focused on Aunt Pan, knitting by her bedside. She shifted


    Aunt Pan looked up. "Relma? You''re awake, thank goodness."


    "Aunt Pan, what happened?" asked Relma.


    "Estela shot you in the heart," said Pan. "Don''t worry. It was entirely accidental. You lost a lot of blood before I got to you. Fortunately, you should make a full recovery." She drew out a flask. "Drink this."


    Relma took it, feeling faint. "What is it?"


    "It should restore the blood you lost," said Pan. "I''ve had to feed it to you myself before now." Relma unstoppered it and drank deeply. Immediately she felt like she would choke. But she managed to get the bitter drink down. "It tastes awful."


    Pan smiled. "Get used to it, dear. If you are going to fight in the next round, you''ll need to restore your health."


    "So, who won the archery contest?" asked Relma.


    "Garrick," said Pan, lips thinning. "After Estela''s rather dramatic miss, she was awarded second place. You should have never gone out there."


    "If I hadn''t, Estela would have been humiliated," said Relma.


    "She should never have accepted the challenge in the first place," said Pan.


    Relma thought about things. "Was that even legal?"


    "Yes, actually. Everyone involved knew the risks involved, and it was a trick shot," said Aunt Pan. "So Benarus allowed it."


    Relma finished drinking it down. Then she passed it back to Aunt Pan. Benarus had been allowing a lot of things, hadn''t he? He''d seemed so reasonable before now, but Relma was having doubts. Letting Ajax into the tournament was one thing. Looking the other way at Relma''s disguise was helpful. But that contest ought to have been halted before it got that far.


    Why had Relma agreed to that? "Where is Estela?"


    "She''s spent much time by your bedside," said Aunt Pan. "But now, she is practicing with her sword for the next round."


    "I''m going to go see her," said Relma, sitting up.


    But Aunt Pan pushed her back down. "You will do no such thing. Wait here, and I''ll get her."


    She stood, and Relma felt the ache in her chest. "Aunt Pan, why does my chest still hurt."


    "Healing wounds with magic requires a deep connection with the spirit," said Aunt Pan. "If your spirit has been injured, the healing magic will leave something behind. A pain, perhaps a scar.


    "Most warriors pick them up as they go. Some have made a science of trying to find out what the source of scars is. The idea is to help with healing them.


    "The source is always something within the person. Not without."


    "Well, why should I hurt now?" asked Relma. "All I did was get shot with an arrow."


    "Ask yourself that question, and you may find the answer," said Aunt Pan. "As far as I know, it may have to do with being called out in the first place. I''ll get Estela." And she walked to the door.


    "Aunt Pan?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan glanced back. "Yes?"


    "Why do you think William Gabriel has that scar on his eye?" asked Relma. "I mean, it''s pretty gruesome, isn''t it?"


    "I expect it is a result of wounded pride," said Aunt Pan.


    "Wounded pride?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said Aunt Pan. "Scars on the face are usually connected to pride in some way. One''s over-the-eyes deal with our perception of the world. Since the scar did not touch his eye, it indicates that his vision was not damaged by it. Merely altered.


    "My guess is that his pride or self-image was gravely wounded somehow. This led to a change in his perception of the world."


    "Well, what does a shot in the heart represent?" asked Relma.


    "The heart generally deals with friendship, love, and affection," said Pan. "Scars there generally represent a hurt dealt to you by one very close. A personal betrayal, for instance."


    "Estela didn''t betray me," noted Relma.


    "True," said Aunt Pan. "Which is why there isn''t a scar. But she did accidentally nearly kill you."I''ll get her now."


    And she walked out.


    Estela came in a few minutes later. Her head hung low as she sat down. Her hands were clasped.


    "Estela..." began Relma.


    "Relma, are you alright?" asked Estela.


    "Yes, I''m fine," said Relma. "I... why did you miss?"


    "I didn''t mean to!" said Estela. "I mean... I... I shouldn''t have called you out there. But I just kept thinking about how De Cathe forfeit and how I didn''t really earn the victory. And then I remembered when Fayn called you up, and I just...


    "I became angry. I thought that after that night, you owed me, so I called you up. I told myself that even if I missed, I would probably only wing you."


    "Estela, don''t worry," said Relma. "I forgive you.


    "I didn''t mean to steal the spotlight anyway. On the other hand, I probably did owe you."


    "But don''t you understand?" asked Estela. "What if I had been nearer the mark? My arrow could have caught you in the head or the eye.


    "Damn Garrick, to hell!"


    "Well, maybe you could beat him in the arena," said Relma.


    "One can only hope," said Estela with a sigh. "I hope that bastard makes it into the final rounds so I can crush him myself."


    "Speaking of which, how long have I been asleep?" asked Relma.


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    "A couple of hours," said Estela.


    "Where are Ajax and Ronald?" asked Relma. "I thought they''d be here?"


    "Well, Ronald came to visit earlier," said Estela. "But the wolf demon has disappeared. Nobody knows where he''s gone."


    "That''s not like him," said Relma. "If he doesn''t return by tomorrow, he''ll miss his match."


    "I think his match is the day after tomorrow, actually," said Estela.


    "Oh, really?" asked Relma. Then she noticed something. "Hey, the pain is gone."


    Estela blinked. "Pain?"


    "Nothing, never mind," said Relma. Then something occurred to her. "Hey Estela, I''ve been wondering about something."


    "What is it?" asked Estela.


    "You mentioned a while back that House Vortegex betrayed House De Chevlon. It was because of vampires, wasn''t it?" said Relma. "What is that all about?"


    "Oh, well, um, the first thing you should know is that there are a lot of different stories about it," said Estela. The story goes that House De Chevlon is actually just a front for a clan of vampires. See, when a member of House De Chevlon proves themselves worthy, they get turned into a vampire. Usually, after they have produced an heir.


    "Then, when they really should have started aging, they fake their own death. Then the next in line takes over."


    "That sounds weird," said Relma.


    "Well, the De Chevlon''s do tend to die young," said Estela. "Usually after proving themselves. Though Raynald De Chevlon has proved himself a thousand times over, he hasn''t died young."


    "So why did House Vortegex betray them?" asked Relma.


    "Well, vampires are mortals who have been infused with the power of Withering, a sort of-" began Estela.


    "-a formless entity of malice behind all undead." Relma finished. "I know, Estela, I''ve been reading in the library."


    "Right, right," said Estela. "Well, anyway, the way the story goes, the head of my house was invited into the fold. They wanted to turn him into a vampire and do the same to House Vortegex.


    "He pretended to accept. But then left written instructions to his family explaining the whole thing. House Vortegex was honor-bound to destroy the vampires. So we had to prevent them from gaining control of Escor."


    "That''s uh..." Relma looked for a polite word.


    "Silly?" said Estela. "I know."


    "Actually, it was a bit more complicated than that," said Aunt Pan, returning.


    "I thought you had business to take care of?" asked Estela.


    "I finished it more quickly than expected," said Aunt Pan with a sigh. "Some people are coming here, as well. Unfortunately, it seems a great many attendees were running late."


    "What do you mean, ''it was a bit more complicated than that?''" asked Estela.


    "Well, at the time, House Vortegex had been entrusted with keeping the Heir of Kings safe," said Aunt Pan. "A nice young girl named Rusca.


    "The vampires in charge of House De Chevlon wanted to turn her into one of them.


    "Vampires can''t have children. So by infecting Rusca, they hoped that one of their own would rule over Harlenor Reunited."


    "So the vampires were real?" asked Relma.


    "Were real?" asked Aunt Pan. "Far from it, they are real, and one of their chief agents is coming here to Gel Carn. The Baroness De Chevlon herself."


    Time passed quickly as other tournament events went by. Soon they were back in the stands, and Relma was eavesdropping.


    For a vampire, Baroness Saphra De Chevlon was awfully tan with long, lustrous black hair. She wore black boots and a long dark dress that clung to her substantial curves. Her face was covered by a veil, and she wore heavy gloves. She was also only a few years older than Relma, at most.


    Steward Benarus greeted her as she came before him. But he seemed on edge as she bowed politely. The tournament''s second round was about to begin, and she had just arrived. Relma was not, technically, supposed to be here. But she wanted to see the Baroness, so she had snuck close to Steward''s entourage.


    "Baroness Saphra De Chevlon, you honor us with your presence," said Steward Benarus. "However, I expected you some days ago. Was there trouble on the road?"


    Saphra curtsied. "I apologize, Steward Benarus. But, unfortunately, some important matters came up. I corresponded with some of my allies, and I had to wait for their response."


    "Understandable, of course," said Benarus. "The opening rounds have only just begun. Would you care to watch them with us?"


    "Of course," said Saphra.


    "I have prepared a shaded area so that it will not hinder your complexion," said Benarus. He motioned to an area of the stands conveniently some ways away. Several of the courtiers looked on in relief.


    "You are far too kind," said Saphra. "However, if I must be separate from the rest, I prefer to sit over there." She motioned to where the competitors were standing. "I am curious to meet some of those participating in the tournament."


    "Is that wise?" asked Benarus. "There is a half-demon among them. And there is a great deal of sun in that area."


    "You needn''t fear," said Saphra. "The weakness to sunlight that happens to my family as we age."


    "Of course," said Benarus.


    Relma quickly returned to her designated area, sat down, and tried to look inconspicuous. Saphra arrived and sat down in one corner, then, drawing out some thread and needles, began to knit.


    "Weakness to sunlight, milady?" asked William, helm on.


    "An ailment that has claimed many of my family young," said Saphra. "I must ask that you pardon me."


    "Interesting," said William. "You see, I was taught swordplay by Raynald De Chevlon, and he never demonstrated any such weakness."


    "Raynald is somewhat eccentric," said Saphra. "The gods blessed him with resistance in exchange for his unfortunate disability.


    "Unless you believe all those stories about vampirism. Then it makes a different kind of sense."


    "Of course, it would," said William. "Why did you feel the need to mention it?"


    "It rather hangs on one''s mind," said Saphra. "I''m put in the position of having to purchase the slaves they drink the blood from. But, unfortunately, animal blood doesn''t do it, so we must use more advanced species."


    "I thought you said you weren''t involved in an elaborate conspiracy," said Relma.


    Saphra looked at her flatly. "You caught me, of course. I have nothing to do with the purchase of slaves. In fact, I''m a part of the abolitionist movement." She looked back at William. "Your father attended a few of our meetings."


    William eyed her in surprise. "He did?"


    "Oh yes, there was a charming exposition on the Sornian sugar plantations," said Saphra. "How children are scalded alive by the work they do. Not to mention how those in the mines are treated. For example, did you know that when a miner slave gets too weak to work, they don''t tend to his illness?


    "No, they knock his head in and throw him in a pit. If he''s lucky.


    "And that''s not even going into the slave ships. Hundreds of living, thinking human beings crowded into tiny cells. When one gets sick, they hurl them over into the sea."


    "That seems somewhat unprofitable," said William.


    Relma was stunned. "Is that really the reaction a paladin should have?"


    "Of course not," said William. "I am not fond of slavery, having had friends subjected to it. But if I were a slave trader, I''d want as much cargo as possible to get into port. That would make more money. Also, keeping fewer slaves in good health means you wouldn''t lose as many. So you purchase fewer and gain a greater profit.


    "Why not just have a priest on board to tend to them?"


    "Miracle workers are a novelty. They generally have a conscience if they are any good at healing," said Saphra. "I suppose you could pay one, but let me ask you this. How many trips on board a slave ship carrying sentient beings could you stand? How long before you helped them stage a mutiny?"


    "I''m not sure," admitted William. "But I was under the impression that priests of Coinfurth are obligated to help anyone who pays them."


    "True," admitted Saphra. "But they are also obligated not to help anyone who doesn''t pay them. Coinfurth feels that if you don''t pay for something, you don''t value it. So they are also specifically forbidden from healing torture victims. Well, on behalf of the torturers, anyway.


    "See, healing is a product of sorts. And people are entitled to refuse a gift. So if a torturer wants to heal someone they''ve been working on, they must get that person''s consent. Unless they are a slave, then it counts as repairing the property.


    "And believe me, the conditions are torturous in the realm of slaveholders. It''s hilarious." Her tone held the first note of emotion, genuine amusement.


    "You consider the horrific conditions sentient creatures are subjected to amusing?" asked William.


    "Of course," said Saphra. "What is comedy if not laughing at the pain of others?"


    "There is such a thing as poor taste," noted William.


    "Taste is subjective," said Saphra. "And I have no such luxury anyway."


    How was William able to pretend as if he didn''t have a problem with it? Saphra seemed to be eyeing him in irritation. William simply remained silent. They knew one another quite well.


    "Milady, is there a reason you decided to grace me with your presence?" asked William suddenly. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, I was hoping to put you off," admitted Saphra. "I judge you to be sensitive and compassion."


    "Complete with skull armor?" asked William.


    "Yes, exactly," said Saphra.


    William sighed. "One of my oldest friends used to kill squirrels and left them in my bed as a prank. After that, she had a collection of innocent forest creatures killed for revenge on Laevian. And I''ve seen far worse things than any of that. It will take far more than that to put me off."


    "Good to know," said Saphra, drawing up her fan


    William paused, wrestling with some curiosity. "Out of curiosity, why did my Father not keep up his association with the abolitionists?"


    "Well, he is a great leader of men," said Saphra. "Warriors who conquer a place want to loot it. So they take people as slaves and use them or sell them. It is one of the great joys of war, I''m told.


    "Naturally being opposed to taking slaves might be an... unpopular quality among the men. Or so I assume."


    "Of course," said William. "Perhaps-"


    "Shut up," said Estela. "The match is starting."


    "Hmm, so it is," said Saphra.


    Relma would be glad to see Ajax win this.

 Chapter Thirteen: Wolf Vs. Wind

    Relma turned her attention to the field as Davian came forward. It was Ajax and Garrick up now, and she was looking forward to the match. "My friends! Today in the ring before you are two beings of an exotic and foreign nature! They are two feral powers that have no equal in savagery or ruthlessness! On the one side, the stoic winner of the archery contest, wielding a sword as long as he is tall, I give you Garrick Estov! A Knight of the Coin!"


    Garrick came forward to thunderous applause. He held his massive sword in one hand, as of yet unsheathed. Then he drew it out and spun it around one-handed before finally taking a stance.


    Cheers echoed ever higher. Obviously, they were looking forward to seeing the fight as well.


    "Go, Garrick!" someone yelled.


    "Victory for the wolves of Telix," said someone else.


    "And in the other, a mix of wolf and demon, a fiend that stalks the forests. One who nearly brought death to the Heir of Kings herself!" said Davian. "Ajax!"


    No one came forward. Relma shifted. "Where is he?"


    And then Ajax sprang over the stands and landed on one knee before Garrick. His head was bowed, and a brown cloak was flowing about him, which was quickly thrown aside. Cheers came as well, but there were also some boos.


    People still remember the recent conflict.


    "Well, that was needlessly dramatic," said Estela.


    "They''re booing him," noted Saphra.


    "Go Ajax!" called Relma, running to the edge. "Crush him!"


    Ajax glanced up and smiled. Relma smiled back, then turned to see everyone glaring at her.


    "What? Garrick''s a jerk. He got m- a perfectly innocent young girl shot in the chest!"


    "Yes," said Estela. "That''s why I want him to win. I want to crush him myself."


    For a moment, silence reigned between Garrick and Ajax. Finally, the wolf boy rose to his feet and drew his sword. He was clad in light armor of lighter. Garrick, likewise, was dressed in heavy black leather. The dust elf began to circle him, and Ajax did the same.


    "This will be a new experience for me. I have never fought a demon before," said Garrick.


    "I haven''t fought a dust elf," said Ajax. "Tell me, are you planning to swing that weapon? Or is it just for show?"


    "Oh, true enough, this blade would be rather cumbersome. If it were ordinary," admitted Garrick, lowering it. "But, it is not."


    And then Garrick surged forward with lightning speed. He unleashed a flurry of blows, any one of which could split a man in half. With each strike, there was a sound like thunder. But Ajax ducked and weaved, hardly seeming to move as they fought. Finally, they separated.


    "He''s fast with that, isn''t he," said Estela.


    "Ajax is keeping up with him fine, though," said Relma.


    Finally, Garrick made a wide swing. Ajax ducked under it and charged, throwing aside his sword.


    "I''ll start slow, dust elf!"


    And then he punched Garrick across the face. The elf rolled with the punch but was sent staggering backward as Ajax slashed at him with his claws. Garrick recovered, only to find Ajax behind him, bringing around a roundhouse kick.


    Garrick was sent tumbling through the dirt. Yet even as he slowed to a halt, he rose to his feet. Ajax pivoted on his feet, claws and fangs bared. "What''s the matter, mortal?! Can''t you keep up?!"


    "Your concern is unnecessary," said Garrick, blood dripping from his face.


    "Concern?!" laughed Ajax. "Don''t flatter yourself! You''re boring me!"


    He charged and left behind a wave of dirt kicked up by his onslaught. But Garrick brought around his sword. Ajax moved to dodge, but the elf redirected the blade in mid-motion and came from another away.


    Ajax backflipped away, clawing Garrick across the cheek before landing. A sweat drip went down his brow, and he wiped it away.


    "You make far too much use of acrobatics," said Garrick. "You neglect your footing."


    "And you don''t make enough," said Ajax, grinning widely. "You can swing that sword around all day, but it will never connect with me."


    Garrick raised his sword. And on it was a single lock of silver hair. Ajax felt his head and then clenched his fists in rage.


    The wolf demon surged forward, and there was a flurry of blows. Then Garrick was kicked in the back and landed hard. Ajax landed on one leg and waited for him to get up. Boos came from the crowd.


    "Hey, quiet!" said Relma. "Ajax hasn''t done anything to deserve that!"


    "Stop wasting your time. He''s a rival power and part demon," said William. "They''ll boo if they want to."


    "Garrick hasn''t been taking this seriously yet," said Felix.


    "Come off it," said Saphra. "You always take combat seriously. Even if it is just a tournament."


    "Garrick hasn''t been trying to pursue Ajax when he drives him off," said Felix. "He''s reasonably intelligent. So he has probably calculated that pursuing Ajax won''t work for him."


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    "Well, extending the duel as long as possible is traditional," said William. "He might be trying to tire him."


    "Perhaps," said Felix. "But there is something more to this."


    The fight, which had been continuing, came to a halt. Garrick and Ajax were both breathing heavily. But Garrick had bruises and several cuts.


    "I admit, your bluster is not unfounded. You are talented," said Garrick. "So, I will use my full strength for this."


    "Looking forward to it," said Ajax. Then, it will be smooth sailing.


    Garrick raised his sword skyward, and everyone went silent. Yet nothing seemed to happen. A slight breeze blew through the tournament, but that was it.


    Saphra rolled her eyes. "What absolute nonsense."


    "Hmm?" said Relma.


    The breeze wasn''t stopping; indeed, it was gaining strength. Relma felt her hair flowing to one side.


    "There is no such thing as using ''your full strength'' in combat," said Saphra. "This is nothing more than meaningless posing. I either favor you, or I don''t."


    "Well, obviously," said William. "It''s showmanship. The crowd likes it that way."


    "I don''t. I''d much rather have them fight without talking," said Saphra. "And to death. And instead of knights, we can put all my enemies in the tournament.


    "Instead of fighting, we can just have them killed before me. We may as well just make it a mass execution."


    The wind was getting louder and stronger, almost a gale. Garrick spun his sword one-handed while Ajax kept his stance, both waiting for the first move. Relma pulled her cloak closer around her.


    "Well, you aren''t the crowd, milady," said William.


    "Yes, I suppose they are poorly educated," said Saphra.


    "What?!" said William, voice blurring out.


    Relma could hear nothing else.


    Then Garrick''s voice called out and could be heard everywhere. A storm was now forming around him. Ajax was forced to shield his face as the swirling vortex kicked up the dust. "Winds of the Dusk Lands! I call upon you!"


    And then a wave of surge surged toward Ajax, carrying with it dirt and grass. Ajax rolled aside, only to be blown back. He struggled to keep his feet as the winds grew faster and faster.


    "So that''s how he did it," said William, having come forward.


    The winds were now focusing on the arena alone. Or so Relma guessed as to why she could hear him. "What do you mean?"


    "The Dusk Lands are the domain of the Dust Elves," said William. "They are between Escor and Gel Carn, and they are home to some of the most powerful winds in Harlenor.


    "He must have made a bargain with a wind spirit. A mighty one at that."


    "Is that legal?" asked Relma.


    "I don''t believe it is illegal," admitted William.


    Then, Ajax was caught by the winds and pulled into the air. He struggled to break free of them but to no avail, as he was raised into the air. And then Ajax howled. The howl broke through the winds, chilling Relma to the bone. For a moment, she thought his eyes were glowing and some force was behind him.


    Then, the winds were broken and sent away. Ajax landed on the ground and stood unsteadily. Then he chuckled. "Winds are all well and good. But you need a spirit to use them. And I can strike at the source.


    "I am part demon, after all.


    "Now, let me show you what happens when the descendants of Telix get serious!"


    Then he howled again and surged at Garrick. Yet this time, no wolf boy but a ferocious beast attacked the elf. Garrick needed help to defend himself. But then the winds returned and forced Ajax to break off his assault.


    Ajax redoubled his efforts a moment later. A fist grazed Garrick''s face, and the Dust Elf rolled with the momentum. Spinning through the air, he landed on both feet and struck. Ajax leaped over the blow and got behind him, only to block an elbow from Garrick.


    Then the sword fell again. Ajax rolled away from it, and they circled one another as the crowds cheered.


    "What did he do?" asked Relma.


    "There are two components to all magic," said William. "The will, the vessel, and the source. The caster''s will is how the spell is directed and maintained. Without it, nothing can be done. The vessel is the specific means of bringing magic into the world.


    "In Garrick''s case, his sword.


    "The source-"


    "Hey, you''re distracting from the fight," said Estela. "Shut up."


    "I''m interested," said Relma.


    "Well, no one else is," said Estela.


    Garrick summoned another whirlwind and sent it against Ajax. But Ajax howled again, and the winds seemed to meet a wall. Relma stared awestruck and realized that no one in the crowd was saying a word.


    "How can he counter the winds by howling?" she asked.


    "I was just getting to that," said William. "The source is the spirit, demon, or god that provides the means of the effect. In this case, Telix.


    "Ajax''s source is in his blood. So he''s probably using the power to counteract the spell."


    Relma looked back. "Hey, Estela, remember back when Lightning Trail was drawn?"


    "Yes, what of it?" asked Estela.


    "Remember all that howling by Telix and his wolves?" asked Relma. "Everyone nearly broke and ran before we''d even started fighting. Maybe Telix has the power to subjugate other people''s wills.


    "So maybe he''s striking directly at the will of the wind spirit."


    "Well, he is the son of a god of order. So subjugation is part of the domain," said William. Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Finally, Garrick and Ajax stood across from one another. Both of their chests were weaving with exhaustion. Their eyes were locked. Garrick tried to raise his sword but fell forward and had to support himself.


    Ajax tried to take advantage but fell to one knee.


    "...You are skilled, half-demon," gasped Garrick.


    "I''m a quarter demon. Also, a quarter god," said Ajax. "And half wolf."


    "You are skilled, half-wolf," said Garrick, narrowing his eyes. "Few indeed have managed to counter me so effectively. Unfortunately, my winds are dying down.


    "But you, too, are nearing exhaustion.


    "Let us finish this in one final charge." And he arose.


    Ajax stood. "Sounds fair to me. Let''s go."


    The winds began to kick up. Ajax''s eyes flared again. One could feel the tenseness in the air. See the power gathering for one final bout that would determine the winner of this match.


    "This is it," said Relma.


    This was going to be amazing.


    Garrick and Ajax charged toward one another in a mutual charge. Ajax howled, and the wind howled against him. Then Garrick stepped to one side and stuck out his sword, so Ajax tripped over the blade''s flat. Ajax crashed into the ground at breakneck speed.


    He struggled to rise as the winds faded. But Garrick put his sword to Ajax''s throat. "Victory is mine."


    Ajax stared at him. "You cheated."


    Boos resounded from the crowd. A lot of people disagreed with the ending.


    "I said ''one'' final charge," said Garrick. "You made a charge, and I tripped you up. It wouldn''t be my affair if you misunderstood." He looked to Davian. "Call the match."


    Davian looked around. "This is a bit anticlimactic. People want a climax."


    "I don''t see how that''s my problem," said Garrick.


    The booing got louder. Davian looked around helplessly. "As Ajax is defeated, Garrick is the winner!"


    "Damn it!" said Relma, slamming her fist against the railing. "I hate that guy!"


    So much for the hero winning; this was a terrible ending.

 Chapter Fourteen: Fredericks Glory

    Relma went looking for Ajax when he stalked off, worried about how things would go for him.


    She found him sharpening the sword he had yet to use. His eyes were bloodshot, and his shoulders were shaking. Had he been crying? That didn''t seem like him. Fortunately, there was no one around to see.


    She put a hand on his shoulder. "Ajax, are you alright?"


    "I lost the match. I... how could I lose?" said Ajax.


    Relma shifted. "You lost to Ergath."


    "I won that fight!" snapped Ajax. "I beat him within an inch of his life and forced him to flee! I just collapsed afterward!" He paused. "And it was different! I am my Father''s favored son and was defeated in front of everyone."


    "Garrick more or less cheated," said Relma. "It just happened to not be against the rules."


    "It doesn''t matter," snapped Ajax. "I''ve been shamed in front of everyone. Whoever wins this tournament will have their prowess displayed for all to see. And those who are beaten will be humiliated.


    "I have been humiliated."


    "I''m pretty sure they exaggerated how big this tournament would be, Ajax," said Relma. "The turnout for competition has been a bit underwhelming. Besides, I''m not sure anyone other than you or Frederick could have taken out Garrick. It was just your bad luck; you ran into him in the first round." She felt Garrick was one of the most dangerous people in the tournament. Cheating aside.


    "It doesn''t matter," said Ajax. "I was still knocked out in the first round."


    "Well, it was actually a terrific fight, if that helps," said Relma.


    "It doesn''t," said Ajax. "Now, leave me alone."


    Relma shifted. "Sorry."


    And she walked away, feeling bad for him.


    She got back to the stands and sat down next to Estela. Her friend looked at Relma in surprise. "Where have you been? The fight is about to start."


    "Who is up?" asked Relma, not wanting to answer.


    "Varsus," said Estela. "He''s fighting against Frederick."


    Davian came forward. "Good people from far and wide! Today we have a battle between new and old! Experience and youth! Human against halfling!


    "On the one side, we have an heir of the Gabriel family. A knight who seized ship after ship from the Calishans in war, who could only be held back from the war for the sake of duty! Well, he means to make up for it here! I give you Varsus Gabriel!"


    Varsus came forward, wearing a sword and a shield. He wore a helm that hid most of his features. Then Davian motioned to the other side, where Frederick was clad for war.


    "And on the other, we have one of the most famed knights. A valiant veteran of the Black Marshes and a dozen other campaigns! A victor of a dozen tournaments! His name is renowned among the Black Watch as a living legend! But does he have what it takes to win the Tournament of Kings!


    "I give you, Sir Frederick!"


    The cheers were deafening. Higher, even than they had been during the fight between Ajax and Garrick. "Frederick! Frederick! Frederick! Frederick!" cried many citizens.


    "They seem to hold this halfing in high regard," said William.


    "Sir Frederick is among the greatest knights of Gel Carn," said Saphra as she filed her fingernails. "Underestimating him wouldn''t be smart. He recently removed a large gang of bandits and slew them all singlehanded."


    "Impressive," said Joseph Korlac, who was sitting with them. "But I''m told Varsus is very skilled with the blade."


    "He''s a master," said William. "He sailed with my mentors, Raynald and Rusara. They fought several actions against Calishan pirates together. Then, during the Khasmir Campaign, he was an administrator for our supply lines. Father tells me he did very well for himself."


    Now the two of them were coming forward. Their blades were drawn. "I suppose I ought to say something," said Varsus. "But I have no true desire to bluster or make speeches."


    "Then let our blades speak for us," said Frederick.


    And then they fought.


    They fought conservatively. Very conservatively, actually. They seemed to be taking each other''s measure, Testing the other''s defense. And then they began in earnest. First, Varsus attacked with a flurry of blows, which Frederick parried and deflected. Then they slowed to a halt. Frederick made a few probing attacks, trying to incite Varsus to pursue. Varsus replied with feints.


    The crowd was getting bored.


    "Varsus is doing remarkably well," said Joseph, dripping with politeness.


    "He was always very skilled with a sword," said William. "He gave me a few pointers when I was younger."


    "Are you better than him?" asked Relma.


    "Well, Raynald taught me to attack aggressively," said William. "My mother instructed me in defensive tactics. But Varsus is all about redirecting and using his enemies'' offensive against him.


    "Only Raynald ever beat him. Though Mother never fought with him at all."


    "Well, that explains things," said Saphra. "Frederick has exactly the same style."


    "So let me see if I have this straight," said Reginald. "We''ve got two master swordsmen, both focusing on defense. And they are both trying to incite each other into attacking."


    "Which means the loser of this fight will be the one who gets bored and walks away first," said Joseph.


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    "I expect that will be the audience," said Saphra.


    "Well, Varsus has a longer reach," said William. "So he''ll stand a better chance than Frederick if he goes on the assault."


    Relma looked to where Ronald was watching. He was holding his wolf and Frederick''s, petting them as the fight continued.


    "It''s a bluff," said a voice.


    Relma looked up to see Ajax entering to sit down. "Ajax? What are you doing up here?"


    "I''ve fought Frederick before. He''s far more than he appears," said Ajax. "He makes heavy use of theatrics. He''d never let something like this bore the crowd unless it helped." He sniffed. "What smell?"


    "What smell?" asked Relma.


    "Iosos," said Ajax. "Someone here has Iosos."


    "What''s that?" asked Relma.


    "A poison. One meant to slow the body down," said Ajax. "Someone might be able to cheat with it."


    "Well, neither seems to be slowing down," said Relma, looking to the feint.


    Saphra leaned forward and rested her head on her chin. "...This is certainly boring."


    "Fight already!" someone called.


    "Couldn''t you get your cousin to get things going?" asked Saphra.


    "No point. Varsus always chooses the most efficient way of going about things," said William. "That''s why he''s never gone on a campaign. His talent for organizing supply lines makes him more valuable off the battlefield of battle.


    "He doesn''t really care what the crowd thinks as long as he wins."


    "And Frederick is trying to make him get frustrated and attack," said Relma. "We''re going to be here a while, aren''t we?"


    "Quite possibly. Frederick isn''t fooling enough to exhaust himself," said Reginald. "And Varsus is too defensive."


    "At this rate, we''re going to have to skip one of the fights today," said Joseph.


    And then Frederick burst into action. He unleashed a flurry of strikes, fighting like a berserker. Varsus was forced to retreat beneath the attack and nearly lost his grip on the sword. The crowd broke into cheers as Frederick won several glancing blows. Then he brought down his sword. It rang against Varsus'' helm, and William''s cousin fell to one knee. He rose, shaking, and took another defensive stance. Reginald put his face in his hands.


    "Oh, come on, Varsus!" said Reginald. "You''re supposed to heat things up, not cool them back down!"


    Frederick attacked again, and Varsus was forced to yield ground. Frederick made showy attacks, and Varsus struggled to hold him back. However, he never scored a winning strike or knocked Varsus from his feet.


    "So that''s what he''s doing," said Joseph.


    "Hmm," said Saphra.


    "Varsus realized that he couldn''t compete with Frederick directly," said Joseph. "But he also knew that Frederick would eventually feel obligated to make a show of things. He probably deduced that from his spectacular entrance.


    "So he calculated that Frederick would cave first."


    Judging from how Frederick slams him around, Relma wondered if it did any good. It really was very one-sided. The crowd liked this a lot more than they liked the previous exchange. But there was still an air of disappointment.


    "This really isn''t very sporting, is it?" asked Relma.


    "What do you expect?" asked Reginald. "It''s Varsus! Once, a red dragon had flown in from the south and gone to Brisgald. It demanded that it be placated with livestock to eat, or it would pillage the countryside.


    "Everyone asked his father to do something about it. Varsus'' response was to get the damn thing adopted as a sister. Though Auga never liked me.


    "He takes all the fun out of our profession."


    On it went until finally, they halted. Varsus shaking, and Frederick calm and in control. They said something, and the words didn''t reach them. Relma looked up. "Reginald, what happened to Ham anyway?"


    "The idiot got put in prison," said Reginald. "He''ll be there for the rest of the tournament. I had to talk his men out of staging a rescue."


    "Oh," said Relma. Well, at least Ham''s men were willing to rescue him.


    Then she realized Varsus and Frederick were walking in opposite directions. "What''s going on?"


    "Ladies and gentlemen!" said Davian. "The fighters are calling a rest!"


    "Well, isn''t that nice for them," said Saphra. "Is this fight ever going to end?"


    "Varsus isn''t much concerned with people''s opinions of him," said William. "Though I don''t see why he agreed to the rest."


    "They both probably want the rest," said Joseph. "Frederick is tiring, but Varsus is taking a serious beating. So he probably wants to adjust his strategy."


    Frederick went over to Ronald and spoke with him. After a moment, Ronald handed Frederick a flask from the wolf''s pack. Frederick drank of it.


    Relma felt someone looking at her. Glancing up, she saw the black knight from before sitting down in the corner. Her hands were on her poleaxe, which was in front of her. Looking back to the ring, Relma wondered why she had moved.


    This time the two charged straight at each other and began attacking all out. Relma wondered why. Then it occurred.


    "Finally, the real fight is starting!" said Reginald.


    "Actually, it ended with the rest," said Joseph. "Varsus has realized that Frederick will win against him. Even if Varsus is taking the defensive. This is as an attempt to salvage some audience interest."


    "Come on, Frederick, beat him down!" called Relma.


    Frederick seemed to be doing just that. But William was silent. Relma looked at him in surprise. "Aren''t you going to cheer for your cousin?"


    "Please," scoffed William.


    "What is that supposed to mean?" asked Relma.


    "It''s beneath my dignity to make such a scene," said William.


    "Well, that''s a bit elitist," said Relma.


    "Of course it is," said William. "I am an elite."


    "When were you knighted anyway?" asked Relma.


    "I don''t see how that is any of your concern," said William.


    Defensive, wasn''t he?


    "Look! Varsus is going on the offensive!" said Reginald. "He''s driving Frederick back!" Relma turned and thought Frederick must have been feigning it out of courtesy. But he genuinely seemed to be struggling. Mere moments ago, he had been dominating. But now he was staggering, hardly holding together.


    Varsus slowed to a halt.


    Then Frederick surged forward. He knocked aside Varsus'' blade and slammed him with one shoulder. Varsus staggered back and fell to the ground.


    "So he was feigning his strength lagging," said Joseph. "Clever."


    "No," said Ajax. "Frederick would never use that kind of tactic. Theatrics are one thing. He doesn''t make surprise attacks. Look."


    Frederick had collapsed to one knee. He was gasping for air. He could hardly stay on his feet and was supporting himself on his sword. Maybe he''d overdone it. Relma hoped that was it.


    "Do you wish to forfeit?" asked Varsus, his tone concerned.


    Frederick mastered himself. He rose and raised his sword. "I forfeit to no man or god."


    Deafening cheers came. Varsus nodded and rushed at him. Yet Frederick slammed into his legs and sent him sprawling. His blade flew from his grip to clatter a few feet away. Varsus scrambled to grab his sword before Frederick closed in. Frederick could have beaten him there.


    But he let him rise.


    "You really should cheer for your cousin," said Relma. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    William looked up from where he was scratching the ears of his chimera. "Massacre, cheer on my behalf."


    Massacre arose and roared with her lion head. Her dragon head sent forth a wave of fire, and Relma ducked. It passed overhead, and Relma felt the heat on her face.


    "Thank you," said William.


    "Bah," said the goat head.


    "How did you befriend a chimera anyway?" asked Relma.


    "Thank you for assuming I befriended her," said William. "Everyone I meet assumes Massacre is a tame chimera. Which isn''t true in any sense of the word."


    "He healed her after she was mortally wounded by satyrs," said Saphra.


    William looked up in surprise. "How did you know that?"


    "Well, I have read your book," said Saphra. "If you didn''t want people to know your life story, releasing it in written form was short-sighted, dear." William flinched. "...What is it?"


    "Nothing, you just reminded me of someone," said William.


    "Arraxia?" asked Saphra.


    "Well, yes," said William.


    "Good. I was deliberately trying to raise memories of your scarring," said Saphra. "I enjoy the sight of other people in mental anguish."


    "You are terrible, Saphra De Chevlon," said William.


    "One does one''s best," said Saphra.


    The Frederick had continued. But Varsus became more and more reluctant to attack. While Frederick''s movements became sloppier. Several times he nearly fell to his knees. And finally, he did fall and couldn''t rise again.


    "What''s going on?" asked Reginald.


    "Frederick, he''s keeling over," said Relma.


    "I know that! Why?" said Reginald.


    "He must have fought too hard," said William.


    "No," said Ajax. "Frederick has a lot of endurance. The way he''s slowing down isn''t natural."Davian came forward in concern. "Would you care for rest, sir?"


    "Yes... I... I believe I''ve been poisoned..." gasped Frederick.


    And then he collapsed.


    "Frederick!" cried Relma. She was not the only one to yell.

 Chapter Fifteen: Pointing Fingers

    William got to Frederick before Relma did. The moment the halfling knight collapsed, the paladin had vaulted over the stand. Now he was rushing to Frederick''s side, cloak flowing behind him. How did he move so quickly in that armor, like a man clad in cloth? Relma rushed after him, trying to catch up and marveling at his strength, but in vain. By the time she arrived, he was kneeling by Frederick. The crowd was murmuring fearfully and looking at Varsus accusingly.


    "Cheater!" screamed someone.


    "Poisoner!" shouted another.


    "Get away from Frederick!"


    The stands almost spilled over as the crowd rushed forward in a rage. But Davian tapped one foot. A shield of light energy barred their progress as William began to heal Frederick. His hands glowed faintly as he worked at it.


    "I insist you calm down," said Davian. His voice cut like a blade.


    The crowd shrank back, cowed. How did he do that?


    "How is he?" asked Relma.


    "His body has been heavily drugged," said William, channeling his power. "And his heart is beating much less quickly. If things go on like this, it may stop."


    "Iosos," said Relma. "Ajax smelled Iosos earlier."


    "Quite possibly," said Aunt Pan as she arrived. "Step away, Gabriel. I''ll deal with this." She put her hands on Frederick''s arm and began to channel.


    "Ajax said that Iosos is only meant to slow a person down," said Relma.


    "I use it to slow flow the effect of toxins," said Aunt Pan. "If used in large amounts, though, it can make the heart stop."


    The other soon hurried up. Joseph Korlac looked around at the scene. "When was he poisoned? How long does this drug take before it effects?"


    "A few minutes," said Pan bitterly as she approached. "The fool. He should have called for a rest as soon as he drank. Now he could die, and our task is all the harder."


    Ronald approached, the flash in his hands. His eyes were red, and he looked unable to speak. His hands shook as he walked. "I..."


    "What is it, Ronald?" asked Relma, clasping his hands.


    "Someone might have slipped something into his waterskin," said Ronald. "While I was watching the fight."


    "Do you think Varsus did this?" asked Estela keenly.


    "Dare suggest it again, and I will-" snarled William, putting a hand to his sword.


    "Stop it!" said Aunt Pan. "I must focus on this." She closed her eyes. Then opened them and sighed in relief. "His heart is beating again."


    "To purge that much poison so quickly," said William, looking at her work in surprise. "I wasn''t able to. How did..."


    "I didn''t purge it," said Pan. "I stimulated his heart to counteract the effects of the drug. You can''t heal these the same way as battle wounds.


    "You learn these things by experience."


    "Enough," said Joseph, coming forward and throwing his cloak behind his shoulder. His dark hair made him look very noble and cunning as he walked. "We must find the real culprit. Not bicker amongst ourselves."


    "What makes you so sure it wasn''t Varsus?" asked Estela.


    "Ignoring my character? I''m not such a fool," said Varsus bluntly, sounding somewhat offended. "If I were to poison Frederick, I would have done it in a less obvious manner. Something which couldn''t be traced. This method leaves me the obvious culprit so I can be discounted."


    "No, you cannot," said Joseph, shaking his head. "No one here is discounted until we have looked at the situation rationally. Ajax, how long does it take for Iosos to take effect?"


    "A few minutes," said Ajax.


    "Is it possible that the poison was administered before the fight began?" asked Joseph of Ajax.


    "No. It works slowly, but not that slowly," said Ajax. The wolf boy seemed pleased at being consulted. "He''d have keeled over long before."


    "Is all this true?" Joseph asked Aunt Pan.


    "Yes," said Pan. "I''m surprised Frederick stayed on his feet as long as he did."


    "Then it is clear that the poison was administered during the brief rest," said Joseph. "Ronald, give me the waterskin that Sir Frederick drank out of."


    This was all becoming a game.


    Joseph was obviously relishing the chance to show off his deductive ability. Ajax was only too glad to be consulted, and the crowd had now viewed it as a new form of entertainment. Unfortunately, Relma wanted to change where this was headed.


    Frederick had been seriously hurt, and now it was a source of sport. But then everything was like that in Harlenor. Relma being shot with an arrow had been that.


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    Ronald offered the waterskin, and Joseph took it. He then offered it to Ajax. "Ajax, can you smell the Iosos here?"


    "Yes," said Ajax. "It was poured into the water."


    Joseph gave it to Aunt Pan. "Can you confirm this?"


    Aunt Pan closed her eyes and held the flask. She opened her eyes. "He speaks the truth."


    "Very well," said Joseph. "How expensive would you say Iosos is?"


    "It''s fairly rare. I don''t know the asking price," said Ajax. "Usually, I gather it myself. But I know that many members of the Sorcerer''s Guild would kill for it.


    "I have patches I get from as a source. And no, I''m not going to reveal them; I grew them myself."


    "Lady Pandora, do you have any insight into this?" asked Joseph.


    "It is expensive," said Pandora. "I sometimes use it for medical purposes to help my patients ease into sleep. Though I only use small doses."


    "Could it be used as a tool of assassination, Ajax?" asked Joseph.


    "It could. But it would be a bad choice," said Ajax. "It takes a lot of it to kill someone. And there are easier ways to poison people with less trace."


    "Pandora?" asked Joseph.


    "Will you stop doublechecking everything I say?!" snarled Ajax. "If you don''t trust me, don''t ask in the first place!"


    "Either of you could have been part of this," said Joseph. "Both of you have a similar mastery of herbs. So if one of you were caught in a lie, it would be a form of evidence.


    "At any rate, we can conclude that the one responsible has access to significant funds. They are also unlikely to have a very excellent understanding of poisons. Their intention was to ensure Frederick lost the fight. However, they dosed him too heavily.


    "Now let us ask, who had the motive to drug Sir Frederick?


    "Varsus has already been suggested. But I should name every person present in the tournament as a suspect, except perhaps Ajax."


    "Why?" asked Estela.


    "Frederick is well documented as a deadly contestant," said Joseph. "Varsus, meanwhile, needs to be better documented. If Frederick had been taken out of the tourney, the path to victory would have been much easier.


    "It is also possible that a political enemy might have done it. But far less likely. A political adversary would have done something more lethal. And whoever did this would have to have access to the backstage. That means it is likely someone who was not marked."


    Relma had heard about all the conflicts up north from William. Sir Frederick had been up there. But most of what he''d done was secure the roadside and protect people. If anything, she''d expect William to end up poisoned instead.


    House Gabriel had thrown down a lot of gauntlets, after all. Moreover, Sir Frederick was popular, and if he died, many people would want to avenge him. Whoever did this was reckless.


    "What if someone bet money on Varsus," said Relma. "And wanted to make sure they won."


    Silence.


    "Isn''t that petty," said William. "Considering the risk of the crime."


    "If it was a lot of money," said Relma. "It could be enough. It doesn''t have to be an elaborate conspiracy."


    "Worth considering," said Joseph.


    "Why is the demon exempt?" asked Estela.


    "He drew attention to the fact that Iosos was used well before the poisoning," said Joseph.


    "Unless he did so to throw people off the scent," said Reginald. "Or hired someone to do it and plans to convict them to cover his tracks."


    "Yes, but that is a complicated explanation," said Joseph. "And complicated explanations are by their nature unlikely."


    "There is a difference between unlikely and impossible," said Aunt Pan. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Then let us deal with likely possibilities first," said Joseph, pacing. As he did, two fingers rubbed his chin. "And when they fail us, we will speak of the unlikely.


    "First, who here is likely to use such a tactic?"


    "What about Garrick?" asked Ajax. "He isn''t exactly a practitioner of fair play."


    "Where is Garrick anyway?" asked Rema, looking around for him. "I haven''t seen him at all."


    "He has demonstrated a willingness to disobey the spirit of the rules, if not the letters," said Joseph. He walked to the stand where Benarus was looking on. "Steward Benarus, I request that a search be sent out to locate Garrick Estov for questioning.


    "You should also find any other contestants in the tournament who are absent. All of the servants should be brought in for questioning."


    "Do so," said Benarus to the guards. "Even so, we must continue the tournament."


    "Who do we declare the winner?" asked Relma.


    "You might just disqualify both of us," said Varsus. "Declare it a draw and have neither advance." Varsus might have been trying to throw suspicion off himself by offering to forfeit. But if he really had poisoned Frederick, he''d be giving up the only thing he gained by it. So it worked.


    Wait, where was the Black Knight?


    "I do not like the idea of disqualifying two innocent men. Especially for something beyond their control," said Benarus. "We shall consider the match postponed. Should Sir Frederick awaken in time, the battle shall be refought. If not, then Varsus will advance."


    "And what of the one found responsible?" asked Estela.


    "We shall leave that matter for when they are found," said Benarus.


    "It isn''t Garrick," said William.


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Relma. William had been pretty quiet, speaking with Felix to one side.


    "Dust Elves are willing to wield cloak and dagger," said William. "But they are never stupid about it. And Garrick is from Sorn, where cloak and dagger is a way of life."


    "I agree," said Pandora. "Garrick is here by the will of Rusara. He would not dare do anything to endanger her reputation without her support. While I do not put this kind of action beyond her, she would have executed it far better than this."


    "Really?" asked Relma. "How would they have done it?"


    "He probably would have been made to sleep too late," said Pan. "If he didn''t show up, Varsus would have won by default. And there wouldn''t have been a public spectacle. Assuming there wasn''t some other motive."


    "Rusara would do no such thing," said William, sounding offended.


    "And what makes you so certain, young Gabriel," said Aunt Pan.


    "I''ve known her all my life," said William.


    "Then she has known you for a fraction of hers," said Aunt Pan. "I should not be too quick to assume you understand her. So many children have been taught by Rusara."


    "Can you say the same?" asked William.


    Aunt Pan looked at him coldly. William met her gaze. For a moment, they stood in silent challenge. "I don''t like manipulating children for my own ends."


    "Manipulating-" began William, and he looked about to flare up.


    Varsus caught him by the shoulder. "William, stop. This isn''t the time."


    William paused. Then he relaxed his grip, somewhat reluctantly. "Yes, of course, Varsus." And he turned to walk away.


    "That boy has an immense talent for healing," said Aunt Pan, voice awed. Behind her, Frederick was laid on a stretcher and led away, Ronald with him.


    "Are you sure?" asked Relma.


    "I have never seen someone that young, that good at healing," said Pandora. "He weakened the effects of the poison with pure brute force. That should have exhausted him. A shame he serves Rusara."


    "Why do you dislike Rusara?" asked Relma,


    "She represents the worst aspects of the Dust Elves, to be honest," said Aunt Pan. "Outside, she is warm and kind. But inside, she is frozen and brutal. Her goddess, Laevian, delights in the darkest aspects of nature and magic."


    "Do you know much about Dust Elves, Aunt Pan?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan remained silent. "They are a nomadic people. Long ago, they were the dominant power in Calisha, ruling over a vast empire. It lasted longer than the elven kingdoms in Harlenor and the south. Then Baltoth came and destroyed their empire. He drove the dust elves into Harlenor or into the far east. Anoa the Bright accepted them as refugees, oddly enough.


    "They have not forgotten that.


    "We''d best get off the field. The next fight will soon begin."


    Relma wasn''t looking forward to it now. The magic was gone.

 Chapter Sixteen: Berserker against Flame

    It was amazing how quickly things were reset, or so Relma thought. Soon they were all back in the stands, waiting as the crowd watched as the sun moved on. But everyone was restless, waiting for something to happen. No one was focusing on the match but rather on what might happen during the match.


    Everyone was more interested now than before. It was interesting to Relma how unpleasant things could be memorable and exciting. While pleasant things passed you by suddenly, you hardly noticed you had them.


    Saphra seemed to live by that code.


    "Sorry about what happened with Frederick, Varsus," said Reginald. "Bad luck having your win stolen by a cheater."


    "It is of no consequence," said Varsus. "When he is healed, I will fight him again and determine who should have won the match." Meaning Frederick. He''d been poisoned and still nearly won. Judging from Varsus'' expression or what little Relma could make out of an expression, he knew it.


    "The tournament may be over by then," noted Reginald.


    "I will fight him nonetheless," said Varsus. "If only for completion''s sake."


    "Either way, wish me luck," said Reginald, drawing his sword and unslinging his shield. "I''m going up against the Bloodthirster."


    "Bloodthirster?" asked Varsus.


    "Well, she was pretty descriptive in what she wanted to do to me," said Reginald. "Seemed an appropriate name."


    The Black Knight was already making her way into the ring. She spun her poleaxe repeatedly, and it was a blur in her hand. Reginald followed after her, slamming his sword against his shield in a challenge.


    "Be careful, Reginald," said Varsus.


    Reginald halted at the top of the stares and smirked. "I''ve been careful all my life."


    Davian came forward as the two faced each other down. He stood between them, and the crowd was silent. "My friends, today we have a match of supreme excellence!


    "In the one corner, we have an heir of House De Chevlon, come to prove his worth in the battlefield.


    "In the other, we have-"


    "Skip the introductions, you old fool," snarled the Black Knight.


    Davian halted, shrugged, and walked to the sidelines.


    "...I think that might be Tanith," said Estela


    "Don''t be absurd," said William. "Tanith has never once used a polearm in her entire life. She''s terrible with them. Give her an axe or a sword, and she''ll tear through armies. But she''s completely unsuitable with that sort of weapon."


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Estela.


    "| grew up with her," said William. "She''s like a sister to me."


    "Your sister almost started a war," said Estela.


    "No, she responded to aggression with aggression," said William. "Telix had been aggressive long before she was. Benarus was doing nothing. Had the situation continued, things would have gotten far worse.


    "So she made an ill-advised but understandable attack on an enemy who had been allowed to run rampant."


    Estela gave him a distrustful look. "No, all she cares about is killing people."


    "Don''t talk about things you don''t understand." shot back William. "Tanith lives to do battle with the enemies of Harlenor in all their forms. Unfortunately, she is... well, too bloodthirsty for her own good.


    "But she has always been loyal to House Gabriel. If Benarus had responded decisively to the wolves, she would never have had to do it for him."


    "She nearly got us all killed," said Estela.


    "So you say," said William, voice cold. "But why did the situation deteriorate to that point? If Benarus and Argath Marn can''t keep control of their own men, I''ve no sympathy. Telix had been abducting people for a long time before Tanith acted.


    "Why is the life of one black dragon more important to you than the life of dozens of your people?"


    "...They were commoners," said Estela.


    "And they''ll remember how you acted on their behalf," said William. "In any case, I''m inclined to believe my friend."


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    "Quiet, both of you," said Varus. "They are about to start fighting."


    "Why haven''t they before now?" asked Relma.


    The Black Knight and Reginald remained silent as they waited. Relma wondered where Saphra had gone. Glancing at Benarus, she saw she was sitting back with the nobles.


    "They look to be eyeing each other up," said Estela.


    And then Reginald charged. He screamed in a rage and seemed to transform into a wild beast. The Black Knight rushed to meet him head-on. The two fought in a rapid flurry of attacks. Reginald roared in battle rage, attacking again and again. The Black Knight fighting with the same fury but dead silence.


    Then she began to lose ground. Reginald pressed the assault, his roars and screams growing louder and louder. The crowd started to cheer and yell in enthusiasm as the berserkers fought. Finally, the Black Knight was forced to one knee. Reginald attacked again and again, beating down her guard. Finally, he slammed his sword against her helm, sending her falling to the ground. Then he slowed to a halt, breathing heavily, almost frothing at the mouth.


    "That was a good strike by Reginald," said Varsus.


    The Black Knight began to pull himself up. She used her poleaxe as a crutch to rise but was unsteady. Reginald charged at her with another battle cry as soon as he was up.


    Even as he approached, the Black Knight slipped past his assault. She brought her axe around to strike at the back of his neck. But Reginald twisted around and brought his shield around.


    Axe and shield collided, and both fighters recoiled.


    No, she was baiting him backward.


    The Black Knight recovered faster. In a flurry, she drove Reginald back with strike after strike. Reginald was smiling now, parrying, blocking, and laughing.


    "What is going on here?" asked Estela. "Why is he acting this way?"


    "Reginald has certain bloodlines," said Varsus. "Or so the rumors say."


    "What bloodlines?" asked William.


    "It''s said that his grandmother had relations with a demon of Fortenex," said Varsus. "Pure speculation. But his father was prone to flying into rages during battle. So whenever he goes into combat, he gets like this."


    The two had slid to a halt now. They were facing one another down, and Reginald was gasping for air. But the Black Knight didn''t look any less tired. They halted for a moment.


    "...You are better than I was expecting," said Reginald.


    "I have far too much invested in winning this tournament to fail now," said the Black Knight. So had they bet against Frederick.


    "Same here," said Reginald. "I think it''s about time I got serious."


    "More drama," muttered William.


    Reginald threw aside his shield and took his sword in two hands. Then bringing it around, he pressed the blade against his cheek. Then, as the bloodshed, Reginald began to laugh, louder and louder.


    "What is he doing?" asked Relma.


    "Shedding his blood," said Varsus, looking disturbed.


    "What?" said Relma.


    "The De Chevlon''s have a unique ability. When their blood is spilled, they become far stronger and more aggressive," said Varsus. "Nothing can stop them. Or so it''s said.


    "Some have trained to master this bloodlust.


    "Reginald particularly good at it."


    "I''ve never heard of that," said William. "And Raynald De Chevlon was my mentor."


    "Was Raynald ever injured in battle?" asked Varsus.


    "Well, no," said William.


    "Well, that explains it then," said Varsus.


    And then Reginald attacked. If his onslaught had been like that of a wild beast before, now it was a force of nature. The Black Knight''s axe was cleaved in half. Blow after blow hit his armor, denting and cracking it with its sheer power of it.


    Soon he was thrown to the ground. But Reginald did not wait for him to get up this time. It was as if he had been driven mad as he struck repeatedly. The crowd certainly seemed to love it.


    Then the Black Knight struck with half of her poleaxe, knocking Reginald to the ground. He rose and hurled the half without a blade at Reginald, hitting him in the face. He snarled and rushed at him, stabbing and slashing.


    Finally, axe and sword locked as they pressed against one another. Their faces were very near as Reginald snarled and glared.


    Finally, the Black Knight shoved him back. Reginald backed away, chuckling lightly as he took a stance. His smile was tired, but he looked happy. The Black Knight took a stance, body shaking. "... You''re more powerful than I expected.


    "However, I have powers of my own. And I earned these for myself." She raised her axe upwards, and a light flared around her. "Cin''dar, give me your power!"


    Cin''dar? The fire spirit of the Wolven Forest?


    Flames arose around the Black Knight. And then she screamed as the fire flared up within her armor. She fell over, rolling as the flames rose higher and higher.


    "What the hell!!" said Reginald. "Elranor above! Get the healers down here, quickly!"


    The flames died, and there was a deadly silence. Then William and Relma sprinted forward. The Black Knight was lying still. William kneeled by her.


    "What happened?" asked Relma.


    "No time," said William.


    Taking ahold of the helmet, he drew it off. Beneath, there was a face horribly burned, with remnants of silver hair. William set a hand on their shoulder. The flesh was mended, the hair was restored, and Relma saw who it was.


    "Fayn..." she said. "What happened? Did the spirit turn against her?"


    "No," said William. "My mentor, Rusara, has a similar contract. So the fires should not have hurt her."


    Relma grabbed the helmet and looked in. Feeling the inside, her hand came away with black gunk. "...Oil. Someone coated the inside of her armor with oil. But how could they have known she had a contract with Cin''dar?" And how could Fayn not have noticed?


    "I don''t know, but these burns are horrible," said William. "I''m having difficulty healing them."


    "What is Fayn doing in this tournament anyway?" asked Relma.


    "I expect the same thing you are," said William.


    Before Relma could reply Aunt Pan arrived. "Well, this has been a busy day. First, Relma, get my herbs. I will be working all day to keep this from scarring." S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "...Heh, heh..." blurted Fayn.


    "Why are you laughing?" asked Relma.


    "They got me, didn''t they?" said Fayn. And then she began to laugh uproariously. She laughed and laughed until Pan put a hand to her neck, and she fell into sleep.


    "Another attempt to cheat, was it?" asked Varsus.


    "No. It was an assassination attempt," said Benarus as he approached. "Lockdown the tournament grounds; no one leaves without my will." He looked around. "What was done to Frederick might have simply meant to knock him out. This was attempted murder.


    "I suggest all of you keep a close eye on your kits."


    At that moment, Korlac rushed in. "What happened?"


    "Didn''t you see?" asked Relma.


    "I''ve been trying to learn the facts of the case," said Korlac. "Now, what happened."


    "There''s been another bout of cheating," said Pan. "This one is particularly murderous."


    "Well then, you''d best come with me," said Joseph. "I''ve gathered some information, and I''ll need everyone to discuss it."

 Chapter Seventeen: Persecution

    The participants of the Tournament of Kings were now assembled in the great hall. The only exceptions were Ham, Frederick, and Fayn. Steward Benarus sat before the throne dedicated to the King, who had not sat there in hundreds of years. Joseph Korlac stood beside him. On the other side was Lady Pandora, clad in a more regal dress.


    "So what was it you found?" asked Benarus.


    Korlac paused and looked over the contestants, eyes gazing at each one. Relma felt he was trying to be someone other than what he was. She wasn''t really sure who, though. "Well, after speaking with each of the servants, I have concluded that no one entered or left backstage. Not during the time when Frederick was poisoned. I also ensured that everyone who attempted to enter this place was searched.


    "That means they did not get the poison from Ajax''s kit."


    "I know," snapped Ajax. "You confiscated my poisons. I want them back after this is over."


    "One of my findings was that Ajax has on him many lethal forms of poison," said Joseph, ignoring the bait. "However, since he understands how they work, it is unlikely that he would make such a mistake."


    "What if he knew you''d say that and decided to do it anyway?" asked Estela, annoyed at being ought here. "That might cover his tracks."


    "I find that unlikely," said Joseph Korlac. "For one thing, Ajax had no way of knowing Korlac was good at deduction. For another, it doesn''t seem his style. Also, he lacks any motive for setting Fayn on fire."


    "Does he?" asked Varsus.


    "If you want to accuse me based on my blood, go ahead," snapped Ajax. "But if I wanted to poison everyone in this group, I would have done it at the banquet. I could have done it too; no one even knew I was there the whole time."


    There was silence. Estela and Reginald glared at Ajax and got it right back. For a moment, it continued until Benarus made a noise with his throat. They looked at him. "Let us ask this: Who has benefited the most from the poisonings?"


    "Varsus and Reginald both advanced by default," noted Estela.


    "Speak ill of my cousin again, and-" began William.


    "Calm yourself, Sir Gabriel," said Joseph. "We have to approach this objectively. Reginald and Varsus seem to be the ones who have benefited the most. Which, ironically, makes them unlikely as culprits."


    "What do you mean?" asked Estela.


    "Varsus and Reginald were occupied during Khasmir with administrative work," said Joseph. "And they proved quite adept at it. They are not unintelligent.


    "The attempt on Frederick''s life, we could expect. But the attempt on Fayn''s life was another matter entirely. It needed to be more clumsy for men of their intellect. To say nothing of their honorable character and noble blood."


    "And why would I heal them if House Gabriel was plotting something like that?" asked William.


    "There was no need for you to be involved in the plot," noted Estela.


    As the argument went on, Relma began to think. She considered the sloppy way the assassination was executed. In that situation, it would make more sense for whoever it was to cut their losses and lay low. Not set the next contestant on fire. Whoever it was would have had to initiate the plan quickly and somehow get oil inside Fayn''s armor. Armor that she had been wearing for most of the day.


    Only one person who had even known Fayn was there, aside from Davian. So there really was only one logical suspect. And since they''d known there was a miraculous healer in the benches, the reasoning for their act was clear.


    "I think Fayn did it," said Relma.


    "What?" said William.


    "Why would... I don''t..." Joseph shook his head. "The poor girl was set on fire! How can you even suggest that?!" He hesitated and looked down. "You mean that Fayn attempted the poisoning, and someone else set her on fire? Perhaps in retribution?" He paused. "Ronald Fulsof, perhaps."


    "What?" said Relma.


    "Ronald Fulsof had a large part to play in summoning Cin''dar. That was during the events in the Wolven Forest," said Joseph. "He had dealings with Cin''dar before. And he is rumored to have a love of fire.


    "The Lady Fayn is a political enemy of the Heir of Kings. Perhaps he took matters into his own hands, assuming she poisoned his master."


    "Why would Ronald assume that Fayn did it?" asked Relma. "Nobody even knew that Fayn was here until the assassination attempt. She knew there was a prodigy healer in the audience. She probably poisoned Frederick. But then she botched the job because she didn''t have any experience.


    "Then she set herself on fire to cover her tracks. Who else could have accessed the armor? No one else even saw her with it off! And she knew what a prodigy William was at healing."


    "That''s completely insane, Raleen," said Reginald.


    "Exactly my point! Exactly!" said Relma. "That''s why it''s the perfect cover! By setting herself on fire, she made everyone assume that she was the victim!


    "Who would suspect that she set herself on fire?"


    Joseph looked speechless. "I... I don''t..."


    "Makes sense to me," said Ajax.


    "She had her eyes burned out before I healed it," said William. "This is in poor taste. If you want to defame her, you might at least pick a more appropriate moment."


    And that was how the conversation ended. Of course, there were several other suspects brought up. But Ronald seemed the primary one, and nobody was even willing to consider that Fayn did it.


    Relma knew it sounded strange. But who else could have applied all that oil? It would have happened just before the match. Or there was some kind of magic involved. How had she been able to fight with armor soaked in oil? And even if she could, how could she not have noticed.


    She and Ajax began to walk back after Relma shed her disguise. Together they walked as the sun began to set. Relma doubted anyone would be able to pin things on Ronald. The proposed motive was flimsy, and Frederick would vouch for his character.


    Relma sighed. "So, what is the next fight?"


    "Does it really matter?" asked Ajax. "This part of the tournament is already over." Then he paused, listening. "Follow me."


    He led Relma through the streets, and they saw Aunt Pan walking. Joseph Korlac followed after her. "Lady Pandora, might I ask you something."


    Aunt Pan halted and glanced back. "Yes? How may I help?"


    "Have you ever heard of exactly how Sir Gabriel was knighted?" asked Joseph Korlac.


    "No, actually," said Aunt Pan. "Why do you ask?"


    "He seems young for the position, is all," said Korlac. "Much like others, I could name. I think this matter bears some more investigation."


    "What do you mean?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "Well, it is traditional that only knights enter tournaments," said Korlac. "If a squire did so, they would be disqualified."


    "It doesn''t seem like it would be worth the effort," said Aunt Pan. "Everyone remaining has already won their match. Clearly, they are good enough."


    "It isn''t about that. It''s the principle of the thing," said Joseph. "I intend to fully investigate everyone in this tournament."


    "Joseph Korlac, your devotion does you credit," said Aunt Pan. "However, it would be better to let this matter pass."


    "Your concern is noted, Lady Pandora," said Korlac stiffly.


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    Aunt Pan moved off, and Korlac looked after her unreadably. Then, after a moment, he looked up and saw Relma. He made for her at once. Relma looked around and saw that Ajax had disappeared from sight, as usual. "Relma Artorious, is it? I''ve been meaning to speak with you for some time."


    "How did you know who I was?" asked Relma.


    "I received a description," said Korlac. "And I noticed a look of recognition on Lady Pandora''s face when she saw you."


    "Really?" said Relma. "Who are you?"


    "Joseph Korlac, at your service." He offered her a hand.


    Relma took it. She didn''t know him, she reminded herself. "Right, nice to meet you. How can I help you?"


    "You''ve known the Lady Pandora a long time, have you not?" asked Joseph.


    "Yes. All my life," said Relma.


    "Then perhaps you could answer a few questions for me," said Korlac.


    "What kind of questions?" asked Relma.


    "Nothing you wouldn''t tell anyone else. So tell me, how does Pandora make a living?" asked Joseph. "Does she receive a stipend from Gel Carn?"


    "No, she provides runes for farmers and such," said Relma. So why was he asking all these questions? "They pay her for the service."


    "Really, now?" asked Joseph. "Did she ever speak to you of the Lady Raleen?"


    "Who?" asked Relma.


    "A knight your age," said Korlac. "I''ve seen her in the company of Pandora several times. I was led to believe they were close."


    "I''ve never met her," said Relma. Could you meet yourself? Odd question. But she didn''t have an answer. "But Aunt Pan knows many things she doesn''t tell me. Sometimes when I was younger, she''d meet with people I''d never met.


    "Raleen might be one of them."


    "Of course," said Joseph. "Were you there at the tournament?"


    His questions were hitting a little close to home. "No. I mean, yes. Just not in the front row."


    "I''m told you are very close to Squire Ronald," said Korlac. "I would have thought you''d be watching with him."


    Relma became a little annoyed at this. "Look here, Sir Korlac. When last I looked, none of this is any of your business. So either come out with what you are driving at or leave me alone."


    "Driving at? I haven''t been driving at anything," said Korlac.


    "Of course, you''ll say that," said Relma. "But you think my Aunt Pan has done something wrong. Well, she hasn''t."


    "Everyone with any amount of power has done something wrong," said Korlac simply. "It''s only a matter of what. And Lady Pandora had a great deal of power.


    "Still, it was not my intention to offend you. Good day."


    And he walked off.


    Relma shifted. Ajax emerged from the shadows. "... He''s on to me, isn''t he?"


    "Is anyone not on to you?" asked Ajax.


    Relma laughed. It was funny.


    Relma was tending to her chores the next day when Estela entered the courtyard. She looked in a particularly foul mood as she sat by one of the fountains. Relma approached. "Any news, Estela?"


    "There has been a decision on the matches," said Estela.


    "Well, what is it?" asked Relma. "What''s wrong?"


    "They are being postponed until a decision can be reached," said Estela. "Steward Benarus is moving forward the halfling jousts in the meantime. Which means Frederick probably won''t have a chance to participate."


    "Oh," said Relma. "Well, that''s bad."


    "It''s awful," said Estela. "Frederick has won every tournament in the past five years. Now he''s going to lose because of that damn poison."


    "Well, Lord Fulsof should be happy about it, at least," said Relma. Estela looked at her as if she''d done a personal betrayal. "Look, I like Frederick. But he can always joust next year. And I was raised in Fulsof, Fulsof''s son is my best friend, and I''d love for them to have a chance to win.


    "I''m just trying to look on the bright side here."


    "There isn''t a bright side," said Estela. "To win because your enemy couldn''t show up isn''t a victory."


    "Actually, it kind of is," said Relma. "Especially if you arranged it so they couldn''t show up?"


    "Are you suggesting the other halflings did it?" asked Estela.


    "No," said Relma. "Fayn did it."


    "Are you still harping on that?" asked Estela.


    "She had the motive," said Relma. "What if Frederick was knocked out of the tournament in favor of Varsus? It would have left her, me, and you as the only representatives of Gel Carn. And you''re more for Escor anyway.


    "So if she pulled off a victory, it would be more impressive. It also would have taken one of the best fighters out of the tournament."


    "So she set herself on fire?" asked Estela.


    "Who else would have had access to her armor?" asked Relma. "Nobody else even knew who she was. Or any of her achievements. So why would anybody target her in the first place?" She paused. "Can you think of anyone else who could have done it?"


    Estela said nothing. Neither did Relma. The silence stretched on for some time. Then, after a moment, Relma decided to change the subject. "Why don''t humans have any kind of jousting, anyway?"


    "We''ve never been able to find an animal that can bear us," said Estela. "Well, we have. But few of them are tamable. And most are rare. Domesticating animals takes time, after all."


    "If it is any consolation, it took halflings thousands of years to tame wolves," said a familiar voice.


    They looked up and saw Frederick making his way in. He was walking on two crutches but did not seem unhappy. Relma ran to them. "Sir Frederick, you''re up."


    "Thanks to Lady Pandora, yes," said Frederick. "Though I am still having some trouble standing. Where is Ronald?"


    "He stayed by your side for most of it," said Estela. "But Joseph Korlac is questioning him at the moment. Or he was a moment ago."


    "Very well, then," said Frederick. "I''ll need someone to help me to Steward Benarus."


    "Benarus? Why?" asked Relma.


    "I mean to forfeit the match," said Frederick. "That ought to go part of the way to getting the tournament back on track."


    "But what if Varsus cheated?" asked Relma.


    "I don''t believe he did," said Frederick. "And in any case, I''m not standing very well. So I won''t be able to fight for some time yet."


    "Will you participate in the halfling jousts?" asked Relma, hopefully.


    "Probably not," admitted Frederick. "I can hardly see straight. I''ll need to ask Ronald to take my place. He''s proving quite talented with the lance."


    "I will help you to the Steward then, Frederick," said Estela.


    "Is there any news on Fayn?" asked Relma suddenly.


    "She''s woken up," said Frederick. "And seems remarkably composed. Why do you ask?"


    "I was thinking of going to see her," said Relma. "After my chores."


    Estela looked at her in surprise. "Why would you want to? She made her dislike of you quite plain. And you''re accusing her of almost killing Frederick and attempting suicide."


    "Suicide isn''t a crime," said Relma.


    "It is in Escor and Haldren," said Frederick. "Still, why are you so set on visiting her?"


    "Well, yes, but she just got set on fire," said Relma. "I thought she might like visitors."


    "Just don''t make a nuisance of yourself," said Estela. "Come on, Frederick, let''s go."


    It took Relma a while to finish her chores. During that time, she badly wanted to talk with Ronald. But she saw no sign of him. Eventually, she made her way through the halls to Fayn''s room. She paused only for a moment to pick some blue flowers.


    She had been expecting a guard. But there wasn''t one. Fayn''s room wasn''t even in one of the more secure areas. Relma felt this unfair of Benarus. After all, Relma believed Fayn had nearly killed Frederick, but no one else did. As far as they knew, there was someone who wanted her dead.


    She knocked twice before opening the door. Joseph was sitting by the bedside of Fayn. His expression was hard, and his hands were clasped between his knees.


    "Excuse me?" said Relma. "Is now a bad time?"


    Joseph looked to Fayn, who met his gaze right back. Eventually, he stood up. "...I can leave you two in peace if I am fatiguing you."


    "Much appreciated," said Fayn.


    Joseph walked past Relma. "Milady."


    Relma let him pass, then shut the door and sat beside her.


    "What do you want?" asked Fayn. "Come to gloat?"


    "No, I just, um... I thought you might like the company," said Relma.


    "You don''t have much practice thinking, do you?" asked Fayn. "No doubt your precious Aunt Pan does that for you."


    "Actually, I... well, I disobey her quite a bit," said Relma.


    "I''m guessing that''s why you''re in this tournament," said Fayn.


    "No, I''m not," said Relma.


    Fayn rolled her eyes. "You don''t have to pretend. You''re a decent actor, but you show your personal connections too well. Obviously, you knew Estela from the beginning, and the same for Gabriel."


    "I really don''t know what you''re talking about," said Relma.


    "Fine, keep your secrets," said Fayn, crossing her arms. "Why are you here if you don''t want to gloat?"


    "Well, you got hurt," said Relma. "I thought I''d bring you some flowers."


    "They''re blue. I hate the color blue," said Fayn.


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "Blue is all about clarity of mind. Calm thoughts," said Fayn. "Red is more for anger and passion. People in red are easier to talk to. You can manipulate them."


    Relma paused. "...Is being "in red" a metaphor?"


    "No. And yes," said Fayn.


    A complete non-answer. Relma looked at her. Fayn''s skin was still red, but there were no scars to see. "So, I see you are healing well."


    Fayn smiled. "Yes. I''m told I won''t have any scars. I was expecting... well, William is far better than I thought. Though my skin still aches."


    Relma shifted. "...Why did you enter the tournament, Fayn?"


    "The same reason you did, I expect," said Fayn. "Go in wearing armor that conceals my face with an alias within the tournament. Then publicly reveal my true identity and humiliate my uncle."


    "Why doesn''t your uncle like you?" asked Relma.


    "He''s one of those people who pretend that he cares about something other than his own power," said Fayn. "Even to himself. That''s all anyone cares about in the end. How they see themselves. Everything else is just feeding their ego in one way or another."


    "That''s a bit depressing way to think of things," said Relma.


    "It''s gotten me something of a reputation. See, I don''t pretend to care about other people," said Fayn. "Since I''m honest about who I am and who I am is what everyone else really is, people don''t like me.


    "Nothing hurts the ego more than seeing yourself as you are."


    "Isn''t that a delusion in itself, though?" asked Relma.


    "What?" said Fayn.


    "Well, I mean, you seem like you dislike hypocrites," said Relma. "People who pretend to be good when they aren''t. So you are open about being bad.


    "When people don''t like you acting that way, you dismiss them as a hypocrite. So you don''t have to address the problem.


    Fayn eyed her suspiciously. "What do you mean?"


    "Well, I mean, it''s all very well to be honest with yourself about what you are," said Relma. "But if you know what you''re doing is wrong, doesn''t that make it worse when you don''t do the right thing?" S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "And who are you to tell me anything?" asked Fayn.


    "Nobody special," said Relma. "I was just making an observation."


    At that moment, there was a knock at the door. It was thrown open, and Ronald barged in. "Relma!"


    "Oh joy, Frederick''s squire," said Fayn. "Get out. I''ve already been set on fire once today; I don''t want to make it twice."


    "Sorry," said Ronald, stepping back. He shut the door.


    "I''ll go see what he has to say," said Relma. "I''ll bring you red flowers next time."


    "Whatever," said Fayn.


    Relma left and met Ronald outside. "What is it, Ronald?"


    "Sir Frederick wants me to take his place in the jousting," said Ronald. "You''ve got to come to watch me."


    "Alright. I''m sure you''ll do great," said Relma. "Just try not to set the pavilion on fire."


    "I only started one fire!" said Ronald. "Why does everyone keep harping on about that!"


    "Yes, I know," said Relma. "I''m just joking around. Let''s go."


    Relma was reasonably sure Fayn was guilty. Even so, she didn''t think she was a bad person. Just flawed. Chances were the investigation would stall now. It wasn''t as if anyone else could have done it.


    And that was probably for the best.

 Chapter Eighteen: Law and Jousting

    The trumpet sounded, and the crowd roared. Two riders upon wolves charged from opposite ends of the jousting arena. Their lances were primed as they raced along the railing, colored with red rope. Their armor shined in the light, bearing the symbols of nobles. Closer and closer they went, and their lances neared.


    For a moment, the entire world stood still. The riders struck one another''s shields. A shower of splinters filled the air as the crowd cheered. The group mainly consisted of halflings. It was larger than Relma expected.


    Relma felt strange, being one of the tallest people present, except for Estela and William. Both of them had chosen to attend, though fortunately, Felix was on some errand. Relma had nothing against him, but he made her uncomfortable.


    "I don''t understand why they have these jousting tournaments," said William. He was resting his chin on the one hand and looking rather bored. He didn''t have a proper appreciation for the sport. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Halflings are one of the only mortal races capable of riding wolves," said Relma. "It means they are a great asset if you have any halflings to ride them.


    "There was an invasion a little before I was born. All the satyrs came out of the Black Marshes, thirsting for blood. So they swept over the border and met Steward Benarus in battle, though he wasn''t a Steward then. His phalanx held the satyrs in place, and then the halflings came around and hit them from the flank.


    "It completely routed them," Relma paused. "My Father, Hadleim, was in that battle."


    "So was my Father and Raynald De Chevlon, my mentor. Rusara, too," said William. "And my Father too, and a great many other people. It was considered very important even in their lives. So many of the best names among the nobility fought in the Blackmarsh Campaign.


    "Some of them have mentioned Hadleim in the same breath. You should be proud of your lineage."


    Relma wasn''t really sure she wanted to discuss her Father. He was dead anyway, and it didn''t seem like talking about him had any bearing on things. She''d only wanted to establish a credible lineage. But William seemed to know more about it than she did.


    "Don''t you have any halflings in Haldren?" asked Relma, deciding to change the subject.


    "Mostly, humans, dwarves, and minotaurs. Though there are some elves as well," said William. "A very few. And most of them are in the northern portions, where an old elven homeland once was. It has been partially reestablished.


    "For now.


    "And if it is destroyed, you can thank that bloody conspirator Jehair for it."


    Relma looked at him in surprise. "You''ve met minotaurs?"


    "Yes," said William, looking away.


    "What are they like?" asked Relma.


    "Large. They can be brutal," said William. "But most of those I''ve met are a fine sort."


    The knights met again, and one of them was thrown from his horse this time. The victor rode forward, raising his lance in triumph as the loser was helped and taken off the field. Horns called, signaling his victory.


    At that moment, Reginald approached and sat down. Estela looked up in surprise. "Reginald, you''re here."


    "Yes," said Reginald. "I''m looking to inquire if there are any lesser tournaments I might stand a chance at winning. I was hoping you could help."


    "What''s wrong with the main one?" asked Relma.


    "Saphra commanded me to drop out," said Reginald, voice cold.


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "She''s afraid that if I stay in the tournament. It will look like House De Chevlon and House Gabriel rigged it," said Reginald. "Or so she says. Me forfeiting distances us from the cheating fiasco.


    "I wouldn''t put it past her to have set the thing up just to mess with some heads."


    "Are you any good at throwing axes?" asked Estela.


    "Decent. Why?" asked Reginald.


    "Well, there is an axe-throwing tournament after the next match," said Estela. "And failing that, there is always the melee. So everyone will get a second chance to fight in that."


    "Right, well, I''ll be counting on that to redeem myself," said Reginald.


    "I think you would have won if things had continued like that," said Relma.


    Then she looked at William. "Hey, what about Varsus? He isn''t pulling out."


    "He''s considered above suspicion. I have healed everyone affected by the cheating," said William. "So, my actions reflect well on him."


    "No, he isn''t above suspicion," said Reginald. "Korlac''s been grilling everyone. I think he wants to make a big show of his findings."


    "I suppose that means Fayn will advance to the next round then," said Estela, voice cold.


    "Yes," said Reginald. "There have been a lot of people advancing without earning it, haven''t there?"


    "Fayn might not even be up for the next round," noted Relma. "She got hurt pretty badly."


    "She is fully formed and without a scar," said William. "The only thing that could stop her from joining the next round is herself." His voice was dark.


    "Well, don''t you sound bitter?" said Relma.


    "It''s nothing," said William. "I got sliced across the face once, and I''ve born the scar ever since. She is flat out nearly burned alive, and she escapes it unscathed."


    "Aunt Pan says that scars usually symbolize something," said Relma. "Depending on where you get them, it represents something about you."


    "A pseudo magic if ever there was one." snapped William.


    The next match came, and it was Ronald against a far older knight this time. Ronald went clad in Frederick''s armor and looked very fine. Relma noted several young halfing girls were swooning as the knights charged.


    There was a clash of lances, and he unhorsed his opponent. There was much clapping as he dismounted and helped the other up.


    "Ronald is doing well for himself, isn''t he?" said Relma.


    "Yes," said Estela. "He''s unwolfed three knights today."


    "Do you think he''ll keep it up?" asked Relma.


    And then came the next opponent. The final round. This was the one they had seen win before. He had black armor and a red lance. His wolf was as white as snow and snarled at Ronald''s brown one. And then Relma remembered who Ronald was facing.


    "No," said Estela.


    "Who''s that?" asked William.


    "That is Evesulf Fulsof," said Relma. "He''s a relative of Ronald''s. A distant cousin, I think. We met once when I was three."


    "Do you think he''ll match him?" asked William.


    "Evesulf will probably do more than that," said Estela.


    "You are brave, Ronald, to face me on wolfback instead of Frederick," said Evesen. "And you do credit to your master by taking his place. But you will not defeat me."


    "I''d much rather determine that with a lance," said Ronald.


    "So be it," said Evesen. "I shall ride against you."


    "Why haven''t any of these knights been seen in the tournament?" asked Reginald.


    "Halflings always fight either in formation or with guerilla tactics. Or on wolfback," said Estela. "Frederick is a bit eccentric by fighting in single combat.


    "Most halflings consider single combat a very uncivilized business. It''s too personal, you see. War is not something halflings like being done personally."


    The two rode against one another, and their lances shattered. Snatching up a new lance, they made another pass and met again. This time Ronald was thrown back in his saddle and nearly fell. Even so, he righted himself and charged again.


    Again they clashed, and Ronald was knocked into the dirt. Cheers rose very high indeed as Evesen dismounted and helped him up.


    "Well, Ronald has been unhorsed," said William. "I''m surprised he made it this far. Given that he is a squire."


    "Ronald is a lot older than he looks," said Relma. "Haltings mature at about thirty. So he''s had plenty of time to learn to use a lance."


    William nodded.


    "Well done, lad. Would you smoke with me?" said Evesen.


    "Yes, cousin. I will," said Ronald.


    "That''s a tradition," said Relma. "Helping your opponent up is courtesy; not doing so is an insult. Offering to smoke with them is a compliment."


    William looked at her strangely. "Why is single combat uncivilized?"


    "Halflings like their community. Standing out is to be discouraged," said Relma.


    "Isn''t riding on wolfback with a lance standing out?" asked William.


    "Well, yes," said Relma. "But it''s one of their oldest traditions. Going to fight in a tournament where people make elaborate speeches and show off how mighty they are is not.


    "Evesulf speaking to Ronald like that was only acceptable because they were family."


    And then, as they were walking back, Sir Korlac appeared. Felix must have rejoined them at some point because Joseph shot him a distasteful look. "Sir Gabriel?"


    "Yes, what is it, Sir Korlac?" asked William.


    "Steward Benarus wishes to speak with all contestants," said Joseph.


    "About what?" asked Relma.


    "He believes that some contestants were not knights," said Joseph.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "As if the tournament needs more complexity yet," said Felix.


    "Indeed," said Joseph. "I am beginning to think that no one involved in this tournament bothered to read any rules."


    "I''m not sure Benarus is in a position to disqualify anyone," said Felix.


    Joseph looked up with a glare, and William glanced at Felix disapprovingly.


    "Really? What makes you so sure, Calishan?" said Joseph.


    Felix said nothing.


    "Answer him, Felix," said William.


    "This intrigue with the poisoning is the best thing that could have happened," said Felix. "It makes for a very good story; people will repeat it for years. This tournament''s whole point is putting Gel Carn on the map. So it is in Benarus'' interest for the story to continue."


    "I don''t see your point," said Joseph.


    "Benarus'' wants a knight of Gel Carn to win this tournament because that will prove the valor of Gel Carn," said Felix. "If they win by disqualifying their way to victory, there is no glory.


    "Moreover, everyone in this tournament is important. Not someone you want to alienate. The only exception is Garrick; everyone knew he was not a knight from the beginning."


    "That is irrelevant," said Joseph. "If someone has flaunted the law, then the law must be upheld."


    Felix smiled. It was not a nice smile. "The law is whatever those with power say it is. The written documents you revere lose all validity when the people in power ignore them.


    "That is the nature of power. Those with it need to obey their rules only if they want to. They chose to, or they chose not to. All power is theirs until they lose it."


    "That''s a disgraceful ideology," said Joseph. "Well, befitting your race."


    "When was the last time you heard of the gods suffering because they raped someone?" asked Felix. "If a mortal scars the face of an innocent woman, there is an outrage and talk of vengeance. But, if a god does it, no one blinks twice."


    "Sir Gabriel, please tell me you have a differing opinion than your servant?" said Korlac.


    William remained silent. "I believe that law is a tool. In the right hands, it can be one of great good. In the wrong hands, anarchy is preferable."


    "You do have a Haldrenian perspective, don''t you?" said Joseph.


    "Naturally," said William.


    "I''m going to go find Lady Raleen if you don''t mind," said Relma. She had the feeling there would be another argument.


    "Don''t bother," said Joseph. "She''s standing right here."


    Relma hid her look of surprise by looking around curiously. He might be attempting to fake her out or perhaps joking. "Where? I don''t see her."


    "Only joking, of course," said Joseph. "I''d greatly appreciate it if you could go find her."


    "Right," said Relma, smiling.


    As she hurried off to get her armor, Relma wondered if he had been joking. Or had he instead merely pretended that he was joking to cover a test? Did he suspect? Or did he outright know?


    Either way, Relma supposed she would find out soon. When she got to her armor, hidden in Aunt Pan''s house, she found Aunt Pan herself sitting at the table. She was drawing a series of runes upon several wooden panels. They emanated purity and white light.


    "Aunt Pan, we have a problem," said Relma.


    "What is it, dear?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "It''s Korlac; I think he''s figured out that I''m Lady Raleen," said Relma. "Or at least he suspects it."


    "What makes you think he suspects?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "Well, Benarus is calling everyone together," said Relma. "It turns out that he suspects some of those who entered aren''t knights."


    "Well, then you''d better get your armor on and go there," said Aunt Pan.


    "But what do I do?" asked Relma.


    "Hope he suspects someone else," said Aunt Pan. "If you get caught, I''m sure you''ll be very embarrassed. But it will be a lesson in its own way."


    Relma looked at her in irritation. "Thanks, Aunt Pan. You''re a huge help."


    "Dear, I''m rather focused on making sure that no one gets turned into a vampire," said Aunt Pan. "House De Chevlon has occasionally spread the affliction to others to act as spies. These panels should ensure it is purged away."


    "Wouldn''t we notice if someone is transformed into a vampire?" asked Relma as she began to don her mail.


    "Eventually, though usually of a lower sort," said Aunt Pan. "When spreading to someone, the victim does not know what is happening. Gradually the corruption of the Withering begins to take hold of them. In the early stages, it can be purged rather easily. But as it sets in, the person begins to change. They are eventually bent to the will of the vampire responsible."


    "Is Saphra a vampire?" asked Relma.


    "Not yet," said Aunt Pan. "The De Chevlon''s use it as a reward for their more accomplished individuals. Saphra is, for now, a puppet."


    "So, isn''t there any way to break the curse?" asked Relma.


    "If caught early, runes like these will do the job quite nicely," said Aunt. "Later on, it is not so easy. The stronger-willed ones will resist longer. But they will become a much more powerful variety of vampires."


    "Well, what if someone never succumbed?" asked Relma.


    "Then they die," said Aunt Pan. "A spirit at war with itself destroys the body. That is why scars form."


    "Why didn''t you regard the vampires as a serious concern?" asked Relma. "During the Escorian Civil War?"


    "Relma, vampires are parasites," said Aunt Pan. "They believe they are planning everything as part of some elaborate conspiracy. But it was all futile. No one can control everything.


    "The most significant risk they could pose is if they grew too numerous. If that happened and the vampires started turning people without control. But they''ve primarily kept themselves in check. They don''t kill the people they drink blood from. That would attract unwanted attention. And anyway, Erik the Voyager killed many of them during the civil war, and more died after it.


    "They are merely one more faction with delusions of grandeur. Their schemes were insignificant compared to the prodigious bloodshed. I was far more worried about Arraxia and her Dust Elves. Did you know Father tried to end the killing by an arranged marriage? It was between Rusara''s sister, Sunsara, and a powerful elven lord.


    "Arraxia burnt her at the stake while she was pregnant. To set an example. Compared to that atrocity, some villages losing some of their blood doesn''t matter to me."


    "Well, that''s..." Relma shifted, "horrible."


    "I know," said Pandora. "I''ve learned that the worst monsters aren''t defined by their species or nature. They are defined by what they do. Father and I have to deal with many monsters."


    Relma shifted. She decided to change the subject. "Where is Aren anyway? I thought he''d have come here."


    "In Escor," said Aunt Pan. "He''s trying to smooth over some disputes between House Vortegex and their vassals. We want the country to be stable.


    "And that takes a lot of doing."


    "He spends a lot of time in Escor, doesn''t he?" asked Relma.


    "Well, Haldren has never been fond of Father or me," said Aunt Pan. "We were involved in a few tragic events of their history. And Antion is being run well. So we generally go where we are most needed.


    "And that is here and in Escor."


    Relma finished donning her armor and began to strap on her leg protection. "...Aunt Pan, what do you want to happen in this tournament? I mean, what is the ideal outcome?"


    "Those aren''t always the same thing, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "I want you to be knocked out of the tournament, give up on fame and power, and live a quiet life. You''ll be much happier that way. But, of course, the ideal outcome is winning and becoming renowned far and wide, advancing the goal of Harlenor Reunited."


    "So then, why did you help me?" asked Relma.


    "Because what I want isn''t important," said Aunt Pan. "And honestly, you would have found a way to enter the tournament alone.


    "The last thing I wanted to be known as was a killjoy."


    Relma finished putting on her armor and then donned her helm. "I should go." Buckling on her sword, she went to the door. Then she glanced back. "Aunt Pan?"


    "Yes?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "Thanks," said Relma.


    She arrived in the throne room and found everyone else waiting for her. There was Fayn. And also Ronald, standing by Frederick as an aid. Aside from herself and William, no one was wearing armor. It was somewhat awkward.


    Benarus looked up in irritation. "Lady Raleen, you are late."


    "I''m sorry," said Relma. "I got held up."


    "No matter," said Benarus. "All of you have been assembled here for a reason. You have all proven strong enough to enter the Tournament of Kings. Each and every one of you have defeated at least one knight in the field of battle. And most of you have seen combat directly.


    "Which brings me to my question:" He sighed. "Did anyone even read the rules of my tournament before entering it?"


    Dead silence. Ronald raised his hand. Benarus put his head in his hands. "Thank you, Squire Ronald. I''m glad someone was paying attention.


    "First, Frederick is poisoned. Then my niece is set on fire. And now it turns out that most people who made it to the second round aren''t even knights. And of those, Fayn cheated the system by bribery.


    "Lady Raleen, the family you are pretending to be from was wiped out years ago by satyrs. And since it took this long for anyone to realize the fact, I can only assume magic was involved. Which, in itself, could make this matter criminal.


    "And Sir Gabriel, I must wonder how you managed to get into the tournament without any kind of crest at all."


    Why was Benarus pretending as if he didn''t know who Relma was?


    "I walked up to the desk, clad in skull armor. I had Massacre stand behind me and lick her chops while I signed my name," said William. "Everyone was so impressed they didn''t question anything."


    "Why didn''t you just get yourself knighted?" asked Benarus. "You might have asked me to knight you, and this whole situation could have been avoided."


    William shifted. Then he glanced at Fayn. "I was led to believe that my family had few friends here."


    "I could have you all easily removed from the tournament," said Benarus. "It would be well within the rules. But, unfortunately, now that Reginald and Frederick have withdrawn, that isn''t an option. The tournament''s next round consists of Garrick, Estela, Raleen, William, and Fayn. This means that if I removed everyone who wasn''t a knight, the victor would be Estela by default."


    Garrick stood up. "With respect, Steward Benarus, I am a legitimate representative of Sorn."


    "My apologies, Garrick," said Benarus. "If I removed everyone who cheated, it would be a final fight between Garrick and Estela.


    "And that wouldn''t even be climactic. The crowds would feel cheated and furious.


    "So I''m going to be as forthcoming as possible. All of you are still in the tournament. I''m going to pretend that none of you broke the rules." He looked to Korlac, who was standing by the throne.


    "Now, Sir Korlac, you actually had some input."


    "Yes. I believe I have pieced together what occurred," said Joseph. "First off, we must establish a motive. Who was it gained by the attempted murder of Fayn and removing Frederick from the battle? Clearly, it was not Varsus or Reginald, as demonstrated by their actions. And besides, it is entirely too obvious. Only a fool would be so blatant. And neither of them are a fool.


    "So, who else could gain? Who is it who benefits the most from the removal of Frederick and Fayn from the tournament? Note that both are representatives of Gel Carn?"


    "Anyone who wanted to remove the competition?" guessed William.


    "Exactly," said Joseph. "But why target those who were directly serving Gel Carn? Because if someone were also serving Gel Carn, it would make it all the more dramatic if they won.


    "Imagine what would happen if every person working for Gel Carn were defeated except one. Someone no one was expecting anything of? When that person won, it would be miraculous."


    "Yes. Yes, it would be," said Benarus.


    "I''m the only other person here serving Gel Carn," said Estela. "The whole theory is out. Everyone can account for where I was. And I''m insulted by your implication."


    "I was not suggesting that you did so," said Joseph. "Though it is a just point. I was suggesting that it was Sir Frederick''s Squire, Ronald."


    There was a shifting in the air. Frederick tried to stand but fell to one knee, panting. He looked up with a scowl. "That is a damn lie, sir! And if I could stand, I would prove it over any man''s body! Ronald would never take any action so dishonorably! And even if he would, what motive could you ascribe?"


    "This is a grave accusation, Sir Korlac," said Benarus. "What evidence do you have?"


    "First, Ronald was in the best position to poison the waterskin," said Joseph Korlac. "Second, he is well known to have an affinity for flame and a connection to Cin''dar. Thus he might have caused the spirit to act out the way it did."


    "I only started one fire!" said Ronald.


    "That proves he could have done it," said Benarus. "But that is not nearly enough. What motive could you ascribe?"


    "Take off your helm, Lady Raleen," said Korlac. "Or should I say, Relma Artorious, the Heir of Kings?"


    Relma removed it. "So you learned who I was. A blind man could have done that. What of it?"


    "You were the motive," said Korlac. "You are the Heir of Kings. Your victory in this tournament would have given you great renown. It would have been a great step toward your goals."


    "I would never kill Sir Frederick!" said Ronald.


    "Of course, that was an accident," said Korlac. "Clumsily done. Just as the attempt to implicate Varsus and Reginald. We know he has no great skill with poisons."


    "Ronald would never do anything of the sort!" shouted Relma.


    "No one ever begins planning great evil," said Korlac. "It happens in steps. First, he accidentally poisoned his master. Then he panicked and attempted the assassination of Lady Fayn."


    "And when did he have the time to line her armor with oil?" asked Relma.


    "I put on the oil," said Fayn.


    "What?" said Relma.


    "When I use Cin''dar''s flames, they cannot burn me," said Fayn. "Unless he wants them to. The plan was to writhe me in flames to look more intimidating. I guess he took advantage of the fact."


    "I didn''t do anything of the sort!" said Ronald.


    "And I''m not some scheming mastermind!" said Relma. "Do you really think I''d put Ronald up to something like this?"


    "I was not suggesting anything of the sort," said Korlac. "Ronald could have acted on his own. I grant you that it is not a perfect case, but what other suspects do we have?


    Frederick grasped for his sword, but Ronald grabbed him by the shoulder. "Sir Frederick, please calm down. You''ll hurt yourself."


    "What about you, Fayn?" asked Relma. "You weren''t with us when Frederick was poisoned."


    "Are you suggesting I set myself on fire?" laughed Fayn.


    "Well, you did have access to your own armor. You aren''t skilled with poisons," said Relma. "And it would provide the perfect cover for poisoning, Frederick, after you botched the job." She was repeating herself.


    "Must you try this jest again, Relma?" asked Korlac.


    "I''m not joking," said Relma. "She knew we had a healing prodigy in the stands. It was a good way to direct attention away from herself."


    "Enough," said Benarus. "I will not have this tournament further disrupted any further. There will be no further investigation and no trial."


    "What?" said Korlac, shifting his cloak. "What was the point of bringing me in here if you don''t want me to investigate?"


    "We will leave the matter to Elranor," said Benarus.


    "What do you mean?" asked Korlac.


    "In the ring tomorrow, it will be arranged that Relma and Fayn will fight one another. The battle will take place beneath the gaze of the Heaven''s Eye," said Benarus. "Whichever one emerges victorious will be considered in the right."


    "With respect, Steward Benarus, I have yet to complete this investigation," said Korlac. "My suggestion that Ronald was responsible was as much to gauge reaction as anything else. And there is always a possibility that a mistake has been made. It may be that neither of these theories is correct. Or that there are other circumstances, I would like-"


    "We''ve wasted enough time in this matter," said Benarus. "There will be a fight, the guilty party will hang, and that will end it."


    Well, that couldn''t be called inefficient law enforcement. Wrong and unjust. But efficient.

 Chapter Nineteen: Grudge Match

    It was the day afterward, and it was hot and muggy.


    Ronald had been escorted to a cell with a barred window, plenty of straw, and a bedroll. Benarus dungeons were universally clean, at least. He had long since destroyed the torture machines his parents and brother had indulged in. Lady Fayn had not since she was fighting in the tournament. Relma stood within the stands, waiting as the time for the matches grew steadily closer.


    She was going to have to fight Fayn. If she lost, Ronald would hang. If she won, Fayn would hang. Relma wasn''t enthusiastic about it either.


    "I can''t believe everyone is so dead set on blaming Ronald," said Relma.


    "I can," said Estela.


    Relma looked up, surprised at her matter-of-fact response. "Really?"


    "Sir Frederick and I spent a while in Artarq, remember?" said Estela with a shrug. "We had to travel through Antion. People don''t like Lady Pandora or Aren much there. And they regard you as their puppet."


    They thought Relma was Aunt Pan''s puppet. But, of course, that wasn''t true at all. Relma was nobody''s puppet; she was acting by her own desires. "Why?"


    Estela shrugged again and brushed dark hair from her face while adjusting her cloak. She looked nice that way. "They say she meddles in things."


    "No, I mean, why would they think I''m a puppet?" said Relma.


    "You were raised by Pandora and have no experience in statecraft," said Estela. "If you took the throne tomorrow, you''d have to rely entirely on advisors. So who would be Aren and Pandora? They''re almost right." S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "But Aunt Pan hasn''t even been to Antion in years," said Relma.


    "It doesn''t matter," said Estela. "The Lady Rusara is held in high regard by virtually everyone. She is feared but also greatly respected. Rusara and Pandora hate each other."


    "Don''t display your ignorance, woman," scoffed William. "No one hates Lady Pandora. We just don''t regard her as important."


    Estela looked furious. Relma put a hand on her shoulder. "But she was chosen by Elranor." She was trying to change the subject before someone started a blood feud. It worked. After a glare, Estela sat back down.


    "That was a long time ago," said William. "These days, people like to run their governments without listening to what a wise old sorcerer has to say."


    "Well then, why does everyone like Rusara?" asked Relma. Keep him talking about himself and not Escor.


    "Rusara doesn''t tell people what to do," said William. "She tells people stories."


    Relma blinked in surprise, quite deliberately. For all his professed dislike of displayed ignorance, William liked to explain things. It made him feel important. "I don''t understand."


    "Rusara never tries to throw her weight around," said William. "She just makes alliances and takes care of her own concerns. And she tells stories to children on the side.


    "Pandora doesn''t do that."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "Have you heard of the Battle of Desora?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Relma. "It was fought up in Artarq, wasn''t it?"


    "It was my father''s earliest military triumph," said William. "He caught the Calishan fleet while it was unloading its forces and drove them into the sea. Father then quickly brooked a truce that ended the war."


    "Right, I remember," said Relma. "Aren said that Argath Marn was made governor."


    "Yes. Argath Marn was allowed to buy the position instead of my father, who had earned it," said William. "And he ran the place into the ground, trying to recoup his losses."


    Argath never talked about his time as governor of Artarq. It predated his second stage of raids, and he didn''t like to talk about even those. Even so, Relma suspected that William''s perspective was inaccurate. But it was still worth hearing. "What do you mean?"


    William shrugged. "He took bribes and looked the other way to criminal activity. His primary concern was profit, and he made lots of that. Father had to spend years uprooting corruption when he took command of the province. Corruption Argath had allowed to flourish.


    "Now that he''s done that, Artarq is profitable, and all kinds of benefits are coming in. The malas trade is flourishing, and Calisha is no longer attacking the border. Imagine what we could have done if Father had immediately gotten the job?"


    "What does any of this have to do with Arengeth and Lady Pandora?" asked Estela.


    "Because they put Argath in office," said William. "They intervened in the politics of Artarq to get their man put in a position of influence. And the man proved to be a huge mistake. It discredited them.


    "Also, my father has neither forgiven nor forgotten the slight.


    "The days of wise old sorcerers giving commands to the Kings of Harlenor are over. Anyone who wants to tell my father what they should do must have more than a long white beard and magical powers."


    "Escor listens to them," said Relma.


    "Escor can''t even keep order in their own kingdom," said William in obvious contempt. "House Vortegex relies on Gail Arengeth to get anything done. They''re only as strong as the foundation on which their reign was laid. And their foundation was of treachery and murder."


    Was he trying to provoke Estela? "Well, that doesn''t seem-"


    "Oh, treachery and murder is it?" asked Estela. "As opposed to pacts with demons and slander?"


    "Slander?" asked William. "Duke Borinius was guilty of treason. And if making a fool of Melchious is a sin, we''ll gladly repeat it. The last true king of Escor declared Erik the Voyager, his heir. You''re nothing but a house of usurpers."


    "That''s what you tell yourself," said Estela. "And what you tell everyone else. But at the end of the day, you increase your power by dealing with demons. You create truces with Calisha to fill your coffers with gold and throw aside your honor daily.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Your house is a corruption of everything Harlenor United stood for!"


    "And what does it stand for, then?" asked William. "A backward society of thatched barns and palisades that has regressed to serfdom?!"


    "Thatched barns?!" roared Estela. "And what of your glorious realm of Haldren, Gabriel? You burn villages and slaughter men, women, and children for entertainment! I assume Tanith must have learned the trade somewhere!"


    "From your glorious hero, Argath Marn," said William, voice deadly cold.


    "And where do you think he learned it?!" snarled Estela. "For hundreds of years, Escorians have feared your raiding ships! You killed your countrymen and burned their towns! The rivers ran red with the blood of my people!


    "A mercenary with an army of brigands strong-armed our king into offering him the throne. And you think that makes you legitimate."


    "A King who cannot repel an invasion does not deserve to keep his throne," said William. "But then, none of House Vortegex''s accomplishments came from their own virtue. So I suppose my words fall on deaf ears."


    "You think you''re better fighters than us?!" asked Estela. "Haldren has been protected by the seas for its entire history! Take that away, and we''d have crushed you a thousand times!


    "You''re just arrogant cowards. A society of glorified berserkers wrapping themselves in the cloak of nobility. You''re more Viokin than Haldrenian. Kin with the satyrs.


    "And you think you can use stolen money to buy yourself a place in Antion! You''re fake nobility!"


    William put a hand to his sword. "How dare-"


    "Stop it, both of you!" said Relma. "Save it for the ring!"


    William remained deadly silent. "... You''d best hope we don''t face one another in the tournament, Lady Estela."


    "I would relish the chance," said Estela.


    William stood and walked to the opposite side of the area. Saphra De Chevlon began to clap. Evidently, she had been enjoying the show.


    "Estela, are you trying to start a blood feud?" asked Relma.


    "I will not stand by while my home is insulted," said Estela.


    "Estela, William is insufferable and arrogant, but he was just talking," said Relma. "Repeating what he had learned at home. There wasn''t any malice in it until you started insulting him back.


    "If you''d talked with him calmly and asked for an apology, he might have reconsidered his opinion. Instead, now he hates you and will double down on it. So you haven''t changed him and made an enemy."


    "It doesn''t matter now," said Estela.


    Relma sighed. "Either way, I''ll be fighting you in the arena today."


    "Not necessarily," said Garrick from where he had been sitting, his sword planted in front of him. "Sometimes, they bring in different rules."


    Before Relma could say anything back, Davian appeared. "May I have your attention?


    "There has been a change to the tournament structure. The next match will be randomized for those who remain in the tournament.


    "You will each draw a number, and that will determine who you face."


    He motioned to a box that had been set up earlier. Garrick stood up first and approached. Estela smiled. "Here''s to hoping I get Garrick."


    Garrick reached into it and drew out a box. "One."


    "Lady Estela, come forward," said Davian.


    Estela moved forward. Relma hoped she got a two. The whole rivalry with Garrick had been interesting to watch. It would be disappointing if they never even crossed swords. "Come on, two, two..." said Relma.


    Estela drew out one and leaped. "Yes! Two."


    William came forward next. He looked in a foul mood as he stalked forward and reached in to take his number. He looked at it. "Four."


    Last of all came Varsus. He drew out his without expression. "...Three, of course."


    Relma began to stand, but Davian raised a hand. "Lady Fayn, Lady Raleen, each of you will face another in the last round."


    "Then the contestants are decided," said Fayn. "Start the damn matches."


    Davian entered the center ring, where the crowds were fully assembled. They were now waiting with bated breath. "Today, my friends, we have a grudge match between two figures of legend! Two figures who have fought each other in this tournament once before! In the one corner, the runner-up to the archery contest and a Princess of Escor, Estela Vortegex!"


    Estela moved forward, throwing aside her cloak as she strode into the arena. Then, turning, she drew her sword and flourished it.


    "And in the other, a silent master of bow and sword, the champion of one tournament already!" said Davian. "I give you, Garrick Estov!"


    Garrick made his way forward, his massive blade propped over one shoulder. As he took a position across from Estela, he brought down the sword. It struck the ground, which cracked beneath the force of the blow. Cheers came from all around.


    "I''m going to make you pay for what you did," said Estela.


    "It was your choice to accept the challenge," said Garrick. "I am not responsible for your inability to keep a steady hand."


    "But you are for this," said Estela.


    The match began, and Estela charged. But this was no berserker onslaught like what William and Raynald had used. She didn''t make a sound as she unleashed a series of stabs. Garrick dodged and weaved backward beneath the onslaught.


    Then he attacked back, the air whistling with the speed of his blade. Estela ducked under it, and several dark hair tufts flew apart. She brought her sword around to strike at his float. Garrick stepped back, and the blade missed his eye by inches.


    "Wow, Estela is really keeping Garrick off his footing," said Relma.


    "Still, it''s only a matter of time before he uses his winds," noted Fayn, interested.


    Finally, there came a pause in the combat as both blades clashed. Garrick slid back and drew his sword. "So, your skill with a blade equals your archery skill.


    "No matter-"


    And then he was forced on the defensive again as Estela attacked with slashes and thrusts. Taken off guard, Garrick had no chance to strike back and could only defend. Something that was difficult, given the size of his weapon.


    "Isn''t Estela supposed to let him summon their full power?" asked Relma.


    "Lady Estela is taking this personally," said Saphra with a laugh as she clapped. Relma mentally imagined her drinking red wine. Then again, Relma had never seen Saphra drink or eat anything this entire time. "It''s a vendetta, not a match. Maybe one of them will die. I''d just love for things to get bloody!"


    "You might show some concern for Garrick," said William. "I expect we''ll miss him less."


    Relma ignored the bait.


    Garrick soon began to tire as Estela struck again and again. He tried to distance himself, but Estela was on him again. With wide strokes, he tried to keep her at a distance, but she moved around them.


    The crowd seemed to like what was happening.


    Then, suddenly, Garrick lost his grip on his sword amid a swing. It fell to the ground, and Estela stepped back.


    "Yes! She''s got him!" said Relma.


    Estela lowered her sword, and Garrick remained silent for a moment. Then he kneeled to grasp it. Even as he did, Estela surged forward and put her sword to his throat.


    "Well, that was pragmatic," said Relma. "Was that cheating?"


    "Yes," said William flatly.


    "Technically, no, William. There is no rule that you have to let the other contestant retrieve their weapon. It''s just etiquette," said Varsus. Estela decided Garrick didn''t deserve it.


    "What she thinks he deserves means nothing," said William. "There are rules of conduct that do not change. Whether you have to follow them or not.


    "Why do you think I spared Cirithil when I found him instead of painting the walls red with his blood and priests. There are things you should and shouldn''t do and unwritten codes of conduct that must be upheld. Garrick has rights, and Estela has violated them."


    Relma had to admit William made a decent point. It sounded wonderful, but she felt that the codes of conduct were vague. Vague enough for William to interpret them in his favor. Just like Estela was doing now.


    Is it too much to ask for someone to write this all down?


    "They aren''t that concrete," said Varsus.


    "They are real," said William. "And if you never uphold them, they will die.


    "Either a knight''s code means everything to him, or it means nothing to him. It''s that simple."


    "Estela has Garrick at her mercy!" cried Davian. "Princess Estela is victorious!"


    "Well, the judge doesn''t seem to agree with you," said Relma.


    "Of course, he doesn''t," said William. "He''s taking his own side. Naturally, he''ll rule in her favor rather than risk Gel Carn having no finalists. Davian has an incentive for Estela and against Garrick. It can''t help but affect his judgment."


    There were a great many cheers, oddly enough. Relma assumed that, given Garrick''s poor sportsmanship, this was satisfying for some. Others could have been more pleased.


    Garrick and Estela returned. Garrick was quiet, while Estela merely looked angrier, despite her victory.


    "Well, that was the usual Escorian discourtesy, I suppose," said William.


    "Turnabout is fair play," said Estela.


    "Whatever helps you sleep at night," shot back William. "Remember that you have lost this tournament, no matter who is declared the victor. Your cheating disqualifies you in spirit."


    Estela seethed and seemed even angrier.


    If things kept going this way, one of them was going to kill the other. Relma had to stop that. The last thing they needed was a blood feud between House Gabriel and House Vortegex.


    Again.

 Chapter Twenty: Cousin against Cousin

    "Good match," blurted Garrick.


    It surprised Relma that he said it, but she was not unpleased. At least Garrick was a good sport about it. Though why, when he had all but cheated before. Then again, maybe that was why he was a good sport about it.


    Estela looked up in surprise. "What?"


    "You have defeated me in combat," said Garrick. "Well done."


    "You aren''t offended?" asked Estela.


    "Why should I be offended?" asked Garrick in genuine bemusement. "You made use of a legal and underhanded method to defeat me. I''m impressed.


    "I would be a hypocrite to not offer you a hand as a worthy opponent." And he offered her a hand.


    Estela looked at it for a moment. Then she took it. "...Good match."


    William turned and walked over to where Varsus was standing. "Well, this will be our match, Varsus."


    "I am interested to see how you have grown," said Varsus. "Here is to hoping I win my first actual victory in this tournament."


    As they walked to the stairs, Saphra arose and quickly made up to William. In her hands was a long violet scarf. "Oh, Squire Gabriel. Take this. I rather like the idea of you wearing my colors."


    William shifted. "...Thank you. But I don''t feel-"


    "Oh please, it would mean so very much to me," said Saphra, smiling for the first time since Relma had seen her.


    William shifted. "...Very well, Saphra. I will wear it with pride." He offered his hand, and Saphra tied the scarf around him.


    On Varsus and William took their places, Davian appeared to announce them. What exactly was Davian? He certainly wasn''t ordinary... what was his rank anyway? He held every position at once when it suited him.


    "Today, we have a battle between family!" said Davian. "On the one side, a recent victor of the Khasmir Campaign! A man who has faced the beasts of hell repeatedly and done battle with Melchious himself! I give you, William Gabriel!"


    William donned his helm and came forward, eyes glimmering. His footfalls seemed like the falling of the Black Mountain behind him as his sword was drawn. The Black Sword gleamed in the sunlight, shimmering off the polished surface. His flaxen hair flowed about him alongside his crimson cloak.


    It was quite a menacing figure, given that William was more or less a good person. Why did he insist on looking so terrifying? Hadn''t he mentioned the armor was a gift from Rusara? Was it a Dust Elven thing? Garrick wore no such armor, so perhaps it was an Escorian Dust Elf thing. Rusara had been notable in the Escorian Civil War as a lieutenant of Arraxia.


    Relma shuddered at the stories of those wars. Never in her time if she could help it. Certainly, she''d never press her claim if it meant a repeat of that. She doubted anyone would.


    "In the other, a man who defeated Sir Frederick in the ring!" said Davian. "A scourge against pirates in the northern seas! I give you Varsus Gabriel!


    "These two cousins will do battle with each other! And the winner is the one who moves on to represent House Gabriel in the finals!"


    The two drew their swords and saluted as Relma approached Estela. Varsus looked very chivalric and heroic in his polished mail and blue cape. He flourished his blade with grace, golden hair swirling about him. William stood at the ready like an executioner.


    What was Saphra up to, though? She''d been insistent on that scarf. Too insistent. Why had William listened to her? They obviously knew one another.


    "So how do you think this is going to go down?" asked Relma.


    "Well, they are family, so I doubt that either one will want to hurt the other," said Estela. "They''ll probably drag it out until-"


    And then William roared. The sound of it was like a cold north wind, and the lights in his eyes now seemed like bonfires. His black sword flashed as he rushed toward Varsus and met him in a flurry of blows. Each strike drove Varsus backward.


    Versus'' shield was dented in a few moments. Yet he remained steady, weathering the assault. As William roared, Varsus said nothing. Instead, he maneuvered and defended beneath the onslaught. Their blades moved faster than Relma could pick up, and Varsus smiled.


    "He''s fighting like Reginald was!" said Relma.


    "Well, of course, he is," said Saphra.


    "What do you mean, well, ''of course he is?''" asked Relma.


    "That scarf is designed to drive someone into a frenzy during battle," said Saphra. "It seems to have worked wonders. I''ll have to thank Rioletta!"


    William''s blade smashed against Varsus shield, and he warded off a counterattack. Then, bringing around his shield, he slammed Varsus'' armor with the rim of it and roared again.


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "Why what?" asked Saphra.


    "Why did you do that?" asked Relma. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I hold such truths to be self-evident," said Saphra. "If you need to ask why I would drive someone into a killing frenzy, you obviously don''t know me very well."


    The offense and defense seemed perfectly matched. As William assaulted, Varsus trapped his sword arm under his armpit. Bringing down his sword to slam it against William''s helm. There was a ringing, and William lost his grip on his blade.


    The boy staggered back as the crowd cheered with joy. Now Varsus had his sword pointed at a disarmed William. But William knocked the blade aside and attacked with his shield. He drove Varsus back with another roar.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "Why did you give William something that sent him into a berserk fury?" asked Relma incredulously.


    "It amused me," said Saphra.


    What a bitch.


    "We''ve got to call the fight off," said Relma.


    "On what grounds?" asked Saphra. "He''s strong enough will not to kill his own cousin. And it''s perfectly legal. Moreover, enchanting scarves to enhance the fighting abilities of fighters is commonplace, at least among people who can do it.


    "And anyway, accidents are allowed in this tournament."


    Versus was driven back, and William stopped to snatch up his sword. As he did so, Varsus attacked, and their swords clashed. Their blades glinted in the sunlight as they thrust and parried. But gradually, Varsus was resuming his defensive pose.


    "Did you cause any other accidents?" asked Estela.


    "You wound me," laughed Saphra. "What could ever make you think that I would do such a thing?"


    "Well, you just admitted to charming the scarf to send William into a blood frenzy," said Relma.


    "Don''t be silly. I always wear that scarf," said Saphra. "It''s very helpful if I want to strangle someone. All I did was tie it around his arm, and he did accept it."


    Relma turned and made her way through the stands. She got to Steward Benarus'' seat and approached. "Steward Benarus, that scarf William is wearing is enchanted. It''s driving him into a killing frenzy."


    Benarus paused. "Did he accept the scarf willingly?"


    "Well, yes," said Relma.


    "Then I don''t see the problem," said Benarus.


    "But one of them could die," said Relma. "What if William kills Varsus?"


    Another roar came from the battleground as Varsus was thrown from his feet. The older cousin rolled away as a blade sank into the earth where he had been moments ago. Cheers went louder now.


    Benarus clasped his hands together and spoke in a low voice. "The Gabriels are our political enemies, my dear girl," he said in a low tone. "Removing one of them is to our benefit. And if one of them dies, the other will be discredited."


    So that was it. It was all politics. The Gabriels were a threat to the Heir of Kings. So Benarus would simply look the other way. "This isn''t right," said Relma.


    "True," conceded Benarus. "But sometimes ruthless actions must be taken for the betterment of the land as a whole."


    Relma said nothing, thinking that that attitude could extend to more than this match. She returned to the stands and saw William repeatedly bashing Varsus'' shield. Soon the shield shattered, and Varsus'' arm fell limp to one side. Varsus'' blade clashed with William''s, then there was a movement, and it was thrown from his hand.


    The truth is, Relma found all respect for Benarus evaporating. He pretended to be this wonderful person who respected the prophecy. But he didn''t really have any moral fiber to him. His idea of helping her was just to do whatever was in her short-term interest without considering if it was right or workable in the long term.


    It was a morally bankrupt, cowardly kind of support, and Relma did not want it. Not that she could refuse it now; Benarus had not left that open to her.


    William drew back his sword.


    "William, control yourself!" said Varsus, scrambling away.


    The cheers went louder and louder. They wanted him to kill Varsus because he had humiliated Frederick. This wasn''t a contest; it was a blood sport.


    Then William staggered back, hesitating. His hand fell to the scarf, but he drew it back. As he did so, Varsus drew a dagger, lunged, and hit the scarf. The blade slipped under, slashing through the cloth. It fell away, blowing in the wind.


    "My scarf!" said Saphra. "That beast! How dare he damage my property!"


    William brought down his shield and smashed Varsus into the ground. Raising his sword, his eyes gleamed. Then he hesitated before staggering backward. Finally, the light in his eyes faded, and he relaxed. Stepping back, he fell to one knee, breathing heavily.


    "Forgive me, Varsus. I... I don''t know what..."


    Versus rose unsteadily. "No harm is done. It''s only a broken arm. Just flesh and blood. You''ve certainly learned your lessons with the sword well." He offered his good hand.


    Only a broken arm? If Relma were in his position, she''d scream her lungs out. How was Varsus so composed?


    William took the hand. Versus helped him up, then spoke. "I concede the match."


    "Varsus has conceded the match!" said Davian. "Sir William is victorious!"


    So it was more or less over. Which left only one unanswered question, despite her best efforts.


    Relma looked at Saphra. "How could this amuse you?"


    "I couldn''t bear to watch another fight where both sides defend for three hours. And judging from how the tournament has played out so far, it would end in an anticlimax," said Saphra. "Instead, we got an aggressive berserker attacking a defense specialist.


    "The contrast made for great entertainment.


    "And the purpose of this tournament is entertainment. So Frederick and Varsus were a bore. And Reginald against Fayn had no actual resolution. And every single one of Garrick''s matches ended with someone borderline cheating.


    "Really, I''m doing everyone a favor."


    William and Varsus didn''t immediately return. They seemed to be speaking quietly, and Relma couldn''t hear it. There seemed to be several boos coming from the crowd. Whoever was making them was absolute beasts.


    Fayn approached from some ways away.


    "I''ve been meaning to ask you, Baroness. Reginald can''t be that much younger than you-"


    "He''s older," said Saphra.


    Fayn blinked. "What? But then, how are you, his Aunt?"


    "My parents didn''t stop having children for a very long time," said Saphra. "I grew up looking up to my nieces and nephews."


    "So, was there some kind of purge?" asked Fayn.


    "Something to that effect, yes," said Saphra. "House De Chevlon has a high turnover rate."


    Turnover rate? As if her family was a place of employment. This lady was sick.


    "What does that even mean?" asked Fayn.


    "It means we die young. A lot," said Saphra.


    "So how does this Raynald everyone keeps mentioning fit into everything?" asked Fayn.


    "Oh, he is my uncle," said Saphra.


    "Then shouldn''t he be in charge?" asked Fayn.


    Saphra shrugged. "He occupies a gray area. Somewhere between being an upstanding member of the family and being disinherited. They actually left him for the wolves when he was a baby."


    "Why?" asked Relma in horror. What was wrong with this family?


    "A nursemaid accidentally injured one of his arms when he was a baby," said Saphra. "The wound couldn''t be healed, so they left him to die on a mountaintop. Then the wolves brought him back to us.


    "Probably for the best. He did turn out to be one of the best war leaders in Harlenor."


    "Your family is sick," said Relma.


    "I prefer to think of us as extraordinarily normal," said Saphra.


    Then William threw aside his shield. What was going on here?


    "Ladies and gentlemen," said Davian. "William and Varsus are requesting that the match be refought. William claims that he was affected by a spell."


    There were murmurs. Then Steward Benarus came forward. "I will grant this if Sir William wishes to put his victory at risk."


    And so the swordplay began again. This time William and Varsus fought against one another equally. They thrust and parried, clashing again and again. Yet William was stronger, and Varsus had no shield. Little by little, Varsus was forced to yield ground.


    Varsus reached the edge of the ring, then dodged to one side and struck William on the side. The blow glanced off his pauldron, and William brought his blade around. Varsus caught it on the flat of his own sword.


    Relma thought she saw a flash of fire, and Varsus'' sword shattered. The blow fell on his shoulder, and Varsus fell to the ground.


    "How is he so strong?" asked Fayn.


    "I''m told William has a special bloodline," said Saphra. "Something about a continent ruled by warrior women. I don''t really care." She didn''t care about much, did she? "What is important is that I must enchant an entirely new scarf! Honestly, these knights look very fine, but they''re completely inconsiderate!


    "They haven''t considered how inconvenient it is for me when they break my spells!"


    "If Varsus hadn''t cut that cloth, he might be dead," said Fayn.


    "And there would be one fewer person in the world," said Saphra. "People are an unlimited resource. More are being made all the time, and they take up a lot of resources to maintain. "Magical artifacts are not."


    "Glad you have your priorities straight," said Fayn with clear sarcasm.


    "You''re an absolutely sick person, you know that, don''t you?" asked Relma. "Even for a De Chevlon."


    "On the contrary," said Saphra, "I''ve never been ill a day."


    Relma didn''t like being vindictive. She''d be lying if she said she wasn''t happy the scarf got ripped, though. And she was happier they''d refought the duel.


    This way, Saphra couldn''t claim any credit for the victory. Nevertheless, it was a small satisfaction.

 Chapter Twenty-Two: The Duel of Honor

    William and Varsus returned to the stand to cheer crowds. As they did, Varsus looked pained and fell to one knee on the stairs. William kneeled and helped him up. He probably meant it kindly, but his armor made his concern look threatening.


    "Varsus, are you alright?" asked William. The rasping voice made his question seem mocking and sarcastic.


    "Yes," said Varsus. "You''ve advanced in skill since last we met. I remember you used to hate sword practice." He smiled for the first time since Relma had seen him.


    "I still do," admitted William. "I just work at it anyway." He approached Saphra somewhat coldly. Relma half expected him to strike her, but he did nothing. He merely nodded in apology as Saphra arose to meet him. "I fear that the enchantments on your scarf were broken, milady."


    Wait, so was he going to pretend as though she hadn''t done anything wrong? Why did he act this way with Saphra but treat Estela with open contempt?


    Saphra took the scarf and looked over its broken halves. "Hmm, I suppose I''ll have to fix this up. But, first, I''ll have to pray to Rioletta for help."


    "Rioletta?" asked Relma in surprise.


    "The Goddess of Weaving," said Saphra. "Queen of Fate and, if you believe the legends, Dark Elves. She gave mortal races stitches and threads. So you must go to her whenever you enchant anything made by threads.


    "And she always asks a price. Some prices are easy to fulfill. Some are hard."


    "I thought she was the Goddess of Spiders," said Relma.


    "No, spiders are merely her symbol," said Saphra.


    "But what do spiders have to do with weaving?" asked Relma.


    There was dead silence. Saphra looked at her flatly. Relma shifted and had the feeling she had said something ridiculous. Spiders wove webs. "Oh, right, that was a foolish question."


    "May I ask why you didn''t tell me the nature of that scarf?" asked William.


    "For my own amusement, of course," said Saphra. "And to force the match to be interesting. Also, when I made the scarf, the price was that I gave it to the first person in skull armor I ran into. "Meaning that all my labor was more or less for nothing. Thank you very much, Varsus."


    "I make no apology," said Varsus. "Your enchantment nearly killed me."


    "I''m terribly sorry about that," said Saphra. "But breaking a contract with Rioletta is never a good idea. She tends to be... vindictive."


    "Why would Rioletta demand something like that?" asked William.


    "Aside from her own amusement?" asked Saphra. "Rioletta tends to the threads of fate. She can predict futures, which is a direct match for even Laevian.


    "She probably believed that me giving this scarf to you at this point would result in a chain of events. One that would turn to her benefit."


    "You might have told me about the nature of the scarf," said William.


    "Your right," said Saphra. "I might have."


    William opened his mouth. But then Davian spoke out. "Attention!


    "Steward Benarus has commanded that the next match will occur tomorrow at noon."


    Relma remembered that she was going to have to fight Fayn. And that whoever won, someone she knew, would end up hanging. So now she had another day. She sighed in relief. "Thank Elranor. Where has Aunt Pan been during all of this anyway?"


    "I believe she was tending to some of the wounded from the smaller tournaments," said William. "There was an accident."


    True to William''s words, Relma found Aunt Pan healing the sick in one of the pavilions. She was channeling energy into a rune that emanated a soothing light. Relma had seen her do this before. However, she had a different technique from William.


    William put his hands on them and healed their wounds. In contrast, Aunt Pan''s runes worked more slowly. The patients were bandaged, and the smell of herbs was in the air. Aunt Pan looked up. "Relma, there you are. I''m sorry I haven''t been there more often; people tend to get injured at these sorts of tourneys?"


    "What happened to them?" asked Relma. Most of the wounded were dwarves.


    "Reginald won the axe throwing tournament," said Aunt Pan. "These fellows took offense. There was a fight, and many of them ended up injured.


    "All of them should live."


    "And where is Reginald now?" asked Relma.


    "Drinking, I believe," said Aunt Pan. "He used some of his winnings to purchase Sir Hawkthorne''s release from prison."


    Relma paused. "Right. What am I going to do, Aunt Pan?"


    "About what?" asked Aunt Pan.


    Did she not know? Had no one told her? "It''s Steward Benarus. He... he''s planning to make my fight with Fayn a duel of honor."


    "What are you talking about?" asked Pan.


    "I... remember the poisoning before?" asked Relma. "And Fayn getting set on fire? Well, some people said that Ronald did both to rig things in my favor. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Anyway, I panicked and said that Fayn probably did it. Poisoned Frederick and then set herself on fire to cover her tracks."


    "That seems unlikely, dear," said Aunt Pan.


    "And that''s what makes it the perfect cover," said Relma. "It would be just like Fayn to do it. Anyway, Benarus said that our fight in the tournament would determine who was guilty."


    "This sounds like nothing more than hearsay," said Aunt Pan. "There hasn''t been time for a proper investigation. So what is Benarus thinking?"


    "I think he just wants to get the matter over with so it doesn''t distract from the tournament," said Relma. "But... but he said he''d hang the one responsible!"


    Aunt Pan went still. "I see.


    "This isn''t about justice. It''s about resolving the succession."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "Fayn''s parents died when she was very young. Benarus despised both of them for association with House De Chevlon," said Aunt Pan. "She was largely raised by servants. She''s also an only child. So if Benarus were to hang her, there would be no one to seek revenge."


    "But if he hung Ronald, it would alienate Lord Fulsof," said Relma.


    "Of course, it would," said Aunt Pan. "But Benarus is impulsive. He probably thinks you''re destined to win this tournament. So assumed you''ll be victorious."


    "Can you talk to him? Convince him to call this off," asked Relma.


    "I could," admitted Aunt Pan. "Unfortunately, the method he chose is legal. The winner of a duel of honor is traditionally indicated by the gods. I''ve always disliked the process myself, but it is still legal.


    "Changing it now would take a long time."


    "So what do we do?" asked Relma. You could get him to reduce the sentence. I don''t want Fayn or Ronald to hang."


    "I can''t do that, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "You have to understand something. Whenever Father and I get involved in politics, it''s a disaster waiting to happen. But, we have a... privilege of sorts that allows us to bypass the system.


    "But every time we use it discredits the system. And it causes the nobility to resent us for throwing the law back in their face."


    "So either Ronald or Fayn will have to hang?" asked Relma.


    "Of course not," said Aunt Pan. "We''ll just have to use a more... indirect interference method."


    Relma paused. "What do you mean?"


    "Benarus chose to end this situation in a duel of honor because of narrative," said Aunt Pan, rising from her seat. "People are watching the tournament of kings. Unfortunately, they''ve seen several dramatic acts of cheating so far.


    "There is now a story. And we are characters. You want to resolve all the major plot threads when telling a story. Either before or during the moment of maximum crisis."


    "What?" said Relma.


    "A final fight to the finish is much more dramatic than a six-month investigation. It would be over long after everyone has gone home," said Aunt Pan. "The hanging provides the stakes.


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    "It also means Benarus can return to business as usual much more quickly."


    "What does any of this have to do with saving Ronald?" asked Relma.


    "Everything," said Aunt Pan. "Benarus wants a satisfactory resolution to this story. Something the audience will like. Right now, there are two possibilities. The scheming Fayn is hung for her crimes, or Ronald dies in a tragic act of impulsiveness. Either will satisfy an audience.


    "What we need to do is shift the narrative. And we must do it so that Benarus cannot kill either of you without making himself the villain."


    "So how do we do that?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan smiled. "This will be a somewhat complicated matter."


    And then there was a knock on the door.


    "Pandora!" said a voice.


    Aunt Pan moved to the door and opened it. Benarus was standing before the door, his hair a mess. He was clad in the mail.


    "What is it, Steward?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "It''s Frederick!" said Benarus.


    "What about him?" asked Pandora.


    "He''s taken Ronald and made a run for it!" said Benarus. "He beat down dozens of men on his way out!"


    "But wasn''t he walking on crutches?" asked Relma.


    "He... he recovered suddenly! And the wolf demon helped him!" said Benarus. "The guards didn''t dare try to stop them! They''ve already escaped!"


    "Where is he heading?" asked Pandora, and Relma thought she saw a flash of satisfaction on her face.


    "The Wolven Forest," said Benarus. "We sent out the trackers, but we found them all tied up on the border with Ajax sitting by them. By now he''s in Telix''s territory.


    "I need your advice."


    Pandora paused. "There is nothing we can do. Telix is master of his own domain, and unless he sends Frederick back, we cannot force the issue."


    Benarus shifted. "...What am I supposed to do now? The duel of honor takes place tomorrow."


    Something clicked. Relma felt that what she said and did now would have enormous consequences. "I''ll take his place," said Relma.


    "What?" They both said.


    "If the battle goes badly tomorrow and I lose, then I''ll hang instead of Ronald," said Relma.


    "Relma, you cannot be serious!" said Aunt Pan.


    "You''re the Heir of Kings," said Benarus. "You cannot throw your life away like this."


    "And that somehow makes me better than other people?" asked Relma. "It is a duel of honor. And if I wasn''t willing to back up Ronald''s innocence with my life, I wouldn''t be a very good person if you did this?"


    Aunt Pan shifted. "Relma, I can''t protect you if you do this."


    "Oh, come on, Aunt Pan. We both know I never listen to you on these things," said Relma, smiling.


    Benarus and Aunt Pan looked at each other, then back. "...So be it."


    The next day had come far too soon. It seemed like the blink of an eye to Relma. She immediately went to the tournament ground with the remaining contestants. But, instead, she sat in the chapel of Elranor, as was the tradition. Fayn was nowhere to be found.


    Before a duel of honor, it was a tradition that contestants sit in a prayer room. Here they would contact Elranor, who would determine the winner. For her part, Relma wasn''t feeling up to it.


    She sat on the bench, clad in armor, her sword across her knees. And waited. Either she or Fayn would die today. If Relma one, Fayn would be killed. If Fayn won, Relma would be killed. And all this was so Benarus didn''t have to deal with a full investigation.


    It was so stupid.


    Eventually, the door opened, and one of the monks came forward. Relma looked up and sheathed her sword as he approached. "Lady Raleen, it is time. Are you prepared to face Elranor''s judgment?"


    "As prepared as ever," said Relma.


    The Heaven''s Eye was truly beautiful. When one looked at it directly, it seemed pure white. The light emanating from it was brighter than the sun, yet it did not hurt the eyes. So it stood, heavily guarded by armored knights in shining mail.


    The white light shone upon their armor, gleaming off in rainbow colors. And as Relma was beneath its gaze into the ring, she felt an undeniable sense of peace. Across from her, Fayn paced restlessly, spinning her poleaxe.


    Davian came forward and seemed, somehow, less real than before. There was a tense air in the crowd as they waited for the blood sport to begin. "Men and women of Harlenor! Warriors and commoners! Militiamen and nobles! Today we have not just a match between two knights but a duel of honor!" said Davian.


    Cheers broke out en masse. The people were entertained. "Assassination attempts on the two competitors have narrowed down the odds! From many to only two! In one corner, a young girl seeking to prove herself! She has accused the young squire Ronald of poisoning his master and setting her alight!


    "Come to defend her honor, I give you, Lady Fayn!"


    Davian seemed to enjoy himself as Fayn flourished her axe. Boos came from the crowd, as well as cheers. Relma supposed she should be glad they were in favor of her. But it didn''t really matter, did it?


    "And in the other, a young knight from a previously unknown family, come to defend the honor of a friend," said Davian. "Lady Raleen has come to stand as champion on behalf of her accused friend! But, more than that, she has promised that she will take his place if he should not be found before the appointed hour!


    "Yet she has done more than that! She has accused Lady Fayn of the very same crime! So now these two will fight with one another in single combat beneath the gaze of the Heaven''s Eye! The victor will go on to the final rounds of the tournament! And the loser will be hung by the neck until dead!


    "Come forth!"


    Relma emerged, and there was much cheering. Frederick was popular, so the one taking his side was cheered on. None of these people knew anything; they didn''t want to know anything. But Relma meant to give them no choice. She had her own plans.


    Fayn flourished her poleax with practiced skill, and flames flared around it. Finally, she took a stance. "You''re a dead woman, Raleen. I''ve been training in using weapons since I was a child."


    "Well, yes, but I''m chosen by destiny," said Relma, taking a stance of her own. "So clearly, I''ll figure out how to defeat you on the fly." It had yet to do her any good against Ajax.


    "Was that meant as sarcasm?" asked Fayn, curious.


    "You tell me," said Relma.


    And then Fayn surged forward, slashing with her poleaxe in the air. A flame whip emerged from it, and Relma scarcely ducked under it. Again it cracked at her feet, and she was forced to dodge and weave. Fayn attacked again and again with greater fury.


    Relma slipped past the whip and charged, but Fayn weaved out of the way of her slash. The dark-armored girl brought around her axe, and Relma caught it on the shield. The heat and force of it were immense, and Relma was thrown off her feet.


    Looking up, she saw Fayn bringing down the axe toward her chest. Relma caught it on her shield and trapped the axe with her sword. Then, pulling it back, she lashed out with a boot and hit Fayn in the chest.


    Fayn lost her grip on the axe, and Relma stood up.


    Before she could so much as hand the axe back, however, Fayn summoned flames in her hand and hurled them. Relma dodged, the heat on her face as she did, losing her grip on the poleaxe. Even as it fell, Fayn caught it. Then she was on Relma with an onslaught of blows.


    Relma defended and tried to think as she did. Fayn was obviously better than her. Better by a long shot. A blow from Fayn''s axe glanced off her pauldron, and she felt a scalding heat on her skin.


    Relma pushed away from the axe blade with her sword, only for Fayn to bring the end around to strike her across the face. Relma fell flat as the crowd booed. Her helmet came off.


    Why was everyone against Fayn anyway? This couldn''t just be about Frederick, could it?


    She got to her knee and was kicked in the gut by an armored boot. Then, a foot was planted down on her chest. Fayn raised her axe.


    She was going to kill her.


    Did it matter? Was that legal?


    Neither mattered if Relma wasn''t alive to find out. Relma bashed Fayn in the leg with her shield, and the girl lost her balance. Throwing her off, Relma leaped onto her and drew out a dagger. Her hand was caught, and they wrestled on the ground, struggling against one another. And then Fayn bashed her head against Relma''s.


    Relma reeled back, pain surging through her. She scrambled back on reflex as Fayn stood, wearing her helmet still. Blood dripped over Relma''s head as the black knight approached. Flames were rising over her armor.


    Fayn charged.


    Then her hand fell over her helmet. Relma threw it. It caught Fayn right in the face, sending her to one knee. Relma wiped the blood from her face and ran for her sword. Even as she grasped it, she saw a flash from the corner of her eye. Relma dropped to one knee and felt flames shoot over her head. Sweat and blood mingled as she saw Fayn coming at her, the axe falling.


    Relma caught the axe on the flat of her blade. There was a flash, and lightning appeared between her edge and Fayn''s. The axe shattered before their eyes, and Fayn fell to her knees. And the sword in Relma''s hand flared to brilliant life. It radiated brighter and brighter like the light from the clouds.


    Fayn clutched her hand and fell to her knees, gasping.


    The crowd was awed. And then Relma realized what had happened.


    "What..." gasped Fayn.


    "The sword... this cannot be!" said Davian, who knew the truth, didn''t he? "Lady Raleen holds Lightning Trail! Through this, she is marked as the Heir of Kings!"


    Relma raised her sword. "My name is Relma Artorious. And I will not allow anyone to be hung for my sake."


    "Steward Benarus!" said Fayn desperately. "Raleen, or should I say Relma, has clearly entered the tournament under a fake name. As a result, she should be disqualified, according to the rules of this tournament."


    There was dead silence and apparent boos. Benarus raised a hand. "This isn''t just a tournament, however. It is also a duel of honor. Is there any honor in a technicality?"


    "More than you think, old man," snapped Fayn.


    There was silence. Benarus spoke with the others. Davian walked forward. "Steward Benarus is conferring with his advisors."


    "Get the fool, Ronald," hissed Fayn. "We should have him ready for the noose."


    Hadn''t anyone heard? Or had it been kept secret? Why would they keep it secret?


    "I have grim news," blurted Benarus. "Squire Ronald is nowhere to be found. He and Sir Frederick have disappeared. They were last seen fleeing into the Wolven Forest. Without him present it seems that the Heir of Kings will hang if she is disqualified."


    "Everyone dies eventually." scoffed Fayn, drawing a dagger. "Though I do not think it my fate to die today." She spun the blade around and took a stance.


    There was a moment more deliberation. Relma already knew what was going to happen here. Davian moved to speak with Benarus. Then he turned to them. "Steward Benarus has dictated that the Heir of Kings will not be disqualified," said Davian. "She has already proven herself worthy of her title and therefore is eligible."


    "So, she is above the law because of her blood," scoffed Fayn.


    "The Heir of Kings-" began Davian,


    "Is a girl my age!" snarled Fayn. "No more worthy to reign than any other. Should not the King be subject to his own laws? Why shouldn''t an heir of one be subject as well?


    "To allow this is a betrayal of the principles that Anoa II laid out! The rule of law over the rule of man!"


    "Are you a knight?" asked Relma.


    "Yes!" snarled Fayn. "I paid someone to knight me in preparation for this tournament! So I technically qualify! Which is more than can be said for you!"


    Good answer. "I''m not sure it''s supposed to work that way," said Relma.


    "The decision stands," said Benarus.


    "Fine then!" snarled Fayn. "I''ll kill her myself then!"


    A whim of flame emerged from her dagger, and she slashed it at Relma. Relma met the whip with Lightning Trail. Light flashed, and the whip recoiled, but Fayn was already coming at her with the knife. Relma caught the hand by the wrist. But Fayn slashed at her wrist with it before punching her in the face.


    Relma rolled with the strike and hit the ground. As she fell, Fayn leaped onto her. Her dagger stabbed down, but it snapped at the hilt as it hit the breastplate. Then, reaching forward with his hands, she gripped Relma by the throat.


    Relma tried to dislodge her as her throat was constricted. Fayn was smiling through her helm. "I''m going to enjoy watching you choke, Relma."


    She couldn''t get her off. Then Relma''s eye fell on a shard of Fayn''s axe. Grasping it, she drew it and stabbed it between Fayn''s armpit. The girl screamed, and Relma, at last, threw her off. Snatching up Lightning Trail, Relma got to one knee and brought it down.


    She barely stopped herself from finishing the movement.


    She had almost killed Fayn. Kill a sentient, thinking person. Ended their life. Fayn had tried to kill her, but that wouldn''t have made it right.


    Cheers were echoed throughout the tournament. Higher and higher. This was what she had wanted, wasn''t it? Just a few rounds early. This was what they wanted. But it wasn''t right.


    "...Do me a favor; cut my throat before the noose," said Fayn.


    Relma breathed. "I said no one will hang on my account." She drew off her sword and turned to walk away. "I meant it.


    "I forfeit."


    "What?!" said Davian.


    "I said, I forfeit. Hang me if you want," said Relma. "The fight is over."


    She should have been disqualified in the first place.

 Chapter Twenty-Three: Prison Time

    It was a cell and a secure one.


    It could be a much better place, but it wasn''t meant to be luxorious. The dungeons of Benarus were kept clean, with plenty of straw to cover the floor. There was a window that narrowed as it got closer to the aboveground. If Relma wanted to escape, she''d have to scale it up and slip out.


    It would be challenging, but Relma thought it could be managed.


    But Relma wasn''t planning to escape. It wasn''t that she wanted to hang. The idea of the rope going around her neck, tightening until she couldn''t breathe. Would it hurt? Or would it all blur together?


    She supposed that if she were lucky, she''d fall hard enough for her neck to snap. But then, if there were any last-minute reversals, she''d die for nothing. So wouldn''t it be better to stay in the world as long as possible, hoping that someone would cut her down?


    Would Aunt Pan cry? She had yet to come by. No one had.


    It didn''t really matter to her in the end. This surprised Relma, though. Why did she regard the prospect of her own death as insignificant? Why had she been so dead set on sparing the life of Fayn? Someone who tried to kill her, who she didn''t particularly like anyway.


    "Why?" said a voice.


    Relma looked up and saw Fayn standing in front of the gate. The girl was outwardly smug, but her confidence was only a mask. She was conflicted. Relma wasn''t sure how she knew, though. She considered the question. After a moment, she realized she didn''t know what Fayn was asking. Or maybe Fayn didn''t.


    "Why what?" asked Relma.


    "Why would you take my place?" asked Fayn. "You defeated me."


    "I didn''t want to see anyone hang because of me," said Relma. Though that didn''t really answer the question, did it?


    There was more to it than that. It wouldn''t have been justice to let things stand as they were. Relma had known that before the match even began; even if she hadn''t known, she''d known.


    "And what if your friend, Ronald, comes back? What then?" asked Fayn.


    It was a good question. That is a very good question, in fact.


    "Then..." Relma considered how to say that she was confident it wouldn''t be a problem. "I don''t know."


    "You don''t know much, do you?" asked Fayn with a laugh. A forced laugh. "If you only care about making sure everyone lives, you''ll never save anyone."


    "Is that from personal experience?" asked Relma. She had the feeling it was.


    "Sort of," admitted Fayn. "Remember that fire you started? That fire that began in the woods, I was there, hunting. I remember that I saw the flames shying away from me. Me and the other huntsmen. But they were consuming the animals.


    "The others ran. But I didn''t. I walked into the flames and spoke with them. And they shied away. I followed them, and the spirit of Cin'' dar appeared before me.


    "He asked me why I did not flee, and I said he was avoiding me. I said I wanted to watch the forest burn. He told me that he had promised the Heir of Kings he would not slay any she would deem equals."


    "And you made a pact with him?" mused Relma.


    "Not then. I remember he let me stay," said Fayn. "I watched as the trees were consumed around me, and I wondered what it would be like to be consumed.


    "Then I saw a wolf trapped by the fire. And in the other direction, I saw a deer. Cin''dar noticed and asked me if I wanted to save one of them. If I had offered myself in place of both, I would have asked him to break his word to you. I could have tried to trick him into releasing both, so that would have been in bad taste to do so.


    "I didn''t care which one survived, of course. Neither meant anything to me. Yet it seemed rude to refuse a gift."


    "What did you do?" asked Relma.


    Fayn smiled. "I told Cin''dar he could burn whichever one he preferred and release the other. Then, when he released the wolf, I shot an arrow after it as it bound away."


    Not the choice Relma would have made. It seemed so cruel. But saying as much would only be playing into her hands. "Did you hit it?"


    "I don''t know," admitted Fayn.


    Relma tried to understand her. She felt like she did understand. But that understanding hadn''t been revealed to her. It was odd. "Why would you try to kill both?"


    "Wolves are dangerous," said Fayn with a shrug. "They are the enemy of the common folk. And now they serve Telix. That only occurred to me when the flames were lowered.


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    "Do you know why Cin''dar killed the deer?"


    Relma considered the question. She remembered some things she had learned from Aunt Pan. About animals and plants and how things worked. "...Deer eat plants. If there is a lot of foliage in a forest, it is easier for a forest fire to start. Isn''t it?"


    "Yes. And wolves hunt deer, preventing them from overpopulating," said Fayn. "Cin''dar was pleased with my choice. So he offered me power. An aspect of his strength in this bracelet." She drew back her sleeve to reveal a silver bracelet adorned with a single, fiery stone. "And I carry it to this day."


    Relma decided to fulfill her curiosity. "Did you set yourself on fire?"


    Fayn''s smile widened. "Why are you trying to trap me?


    "I choose to consume those around me for my benefit. In so doing, I gained great power. Cin''dar rewards those willing to give their own flesh unto his flame!


    "Now, I could throw all that away in an instant. I could heed a guilty conscience that I don''t have and admit to a crime I may or may not have done. Take the heat off you and hang in your place.


    "Or, I could just do nothing. Save no one. And then I win."


    "Win what?" asked Relma.


    "I''ll be the heir to Gel Carn," said Fayn. "Benarus won''t be able to deny me what I deserve."


    "Why do you deserve it?" asked Relma.


    "Because I was born to it!" snapped Fayn. "Why should my family have to give up its birthright? Just because of some line of kings that hasn''t really existed for years!"


    "Your birthright as Steward of Gel Carn," said Relma.


    "Yes," said Fayn.


    "The Steward. As in, a person who rules in place of a higher authority," said Relma.


    "A higher authority that hasn''t existed in ages!" snapped Fayn. "You might not even be legitimate."


    "True," said Relma, feeling more detached by the minute. "What is the source of a King''s legitimacy?"


    Fayn remained silent. "I could pretend as if it is the will of Elranor, but that isn''t true. History is determined by the man who wins battles.


    "The answer is power. The strong determine right and wrong. The weak follow directives or are destroyed."


    "So, if I was more powerful than you, I would logically have the greater right," said Relma. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No!" snapped Fayn. "My family has ruled Gel Carn since the death of Anoa IX! We own it!"


    "So tradition is also a source of authority?" asked Relma. "Doesn''t tradition dictate that you step aside?"


    Fayn remained silent. "It doesn''t matter. Because you are weaker."


    "Why?" asked Relma. "I defeated you in our match."


    Fayn held still. "Maybe. But there are other kinds of power. You''re too weak to take a life. All you had to do was take the victory.


    "But now it doesn''t matter.


    "You''ll hang and-"


    At that moment, a door opened guards returned. The warden came forward at the front, the keys jangling at his belt. Warden Mathias Stone was a huge bear of a man with a bald head and stubble. He wore three knives on his belt and a sword. Somewhat too well-armed for unexpected circumstances. But Relma wouldn''t judge.


    Mathias motioned to Fayn. "You step aside from the cell. We''re releasing the prisoner."


    Fayn glanced back. "But, the hanging is tomorrow!"


    "Not anymore; Steward Benarus has put out a pardon for Ronald Fulsof," said Mathias. "So, she is at this moment released."


    Oh, that''s why Relma wasn''t worried. Literally, the entire universe revolved around her. So what was the rule of law compared to her? It was a little shameful to her just how far things would stretch to help her.


    She felt like she should object to this. But that is both counterproductive and in poor taste.


    Fayn shuddered. "...He can''t do that!"


    "He is the steward," said Mathias as he drew out his keys.


    "Yes, but-" began Fayn.


    "It''s well within his rights," said Mathias, opening the lock.


    "But... but it''s not fair!" roared Fayn. "If I''d lost the match or she hadn''t taken the halfling''s place, they''d have hung us in a heartbeat! Benarus would have been crowing in glee!"


    "That sounds like it has more to do with you than it does with her," noted Mathias. "Besides, you lost the match. So the only reason you aren''t hanging is that she also took your place.


    "You might show a little gratitude."


    "Gratitude?!" shrieked Fayn.


    "Being thankful for services rendered," said Mathias. "It is generally considered a virtue. Now get out of the way."


    The door swung open, and Relma made her way out. She thanked the guards and quickly exited the stairs and into the light. But she saw a familiar shadow as she entered the courtyard.


    "Saved by your title, then?" asked Felix.


    Relma glanced back. The Calishan boy was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and his cloak around him. His eyes were narrowed.


    "Are you disappointed?" asked Relma.


    "Well, I thought the death of one of my master''s political adversaries would be good," said Felix. "You seem to lead a charmed life, however. Seem to. But appearances can be deceiving."


    "What are you talking about?" asked Relma. He was after something.


    "There comes a time in every noble''s life when they are no longer protected by their title," said Felix. "Some face it on the battlefield. Others in the court or on their deathbed.


    "I wonder when you will."


    "I didn''t know I was going to be saved by pardon," said Relma, feeling defensive.


    Felix eyed her carefully. "Hmm, perhaps you weren''t. Well, it doesn''t matter. You see, you''ve just demonstrated that the Heir of Kings is above the law. And at the moment, no one minds. But it doesn''t matter. Sooner or later, you''ll do something that will break the illusion of your perfection.


    "And then, once you disappoint, people will be looking to destroy you.


    "Only a god can disobey his own rules. And you are no god. Not yet, anyway."


    Then he stood up as if to leave. He was familiar. Very familiar. And Relma was afraid of him. But she faced him. "...Who are you, Felix? Tell me, honestly."


    "I think you know," said Felix.


    She did know, didn''t she? Before she could speak, however, someone hugged her. "Relma! Relma!"


    Relma turned around and saw Ronald. Stepping back, she blinked in surprise. "Ronald? What are you doing back here?"


    "I came as soon as I found out you''d be taking my place!" said Ronald. "What are you thinking? I''ll... I''ll go to the noose just don''t-"


    "Ronald, relax. Benarus pardoned you," said Relma. "No one is getting hung." She glanced back. "Felix, I don''t think-"


    But Felix was gone.


    "How does he do that?" asked Relma.


    "Who?" asked Ronald.


    "Nothing. Nevermind," said Relma. "So, who do you think will win the final match?"


    "Well, um, I don''t know who went on to the finals," said Ronald.


    "Fayn, William, and Estela." said Relma.


    "Wait, there are three finalists?" asked Ronald. "How are they going to manage that?"


    "I don''t think this tournament was planned well," admitted Relma.


    "I noticed," said Ronald.


    If nothing else, they were all back and in the clear. Relma supposed she should be grateful to Benarus, but she respected Fayn more. At least Fayn had a notion of consistency and fair play more complicated than us vs. them.

 Chapter Twenty-Four: Duel of Flames

    The Heaven''s Eye had been stored away, back to whatever secret location it was held in. The rumor was that there was an ancient vault somewhere in Gel Carn, where the spirit of an ancient knight protected it. Which knight varied; some said it was Sir Orson, others King Anoa himself. Relma thought King Anoa was possible, but it seemed like something other than him. She wondered if she should ask Aunt Pan about it at some point.


    Sir Orson seemed more likely; he was known as dutiful and faultless in all things. And he had been closest to Anoa, but then he had betrayed him.


    It hardly mattered. The ring now seemed empty in comparison as Relma sat down with the other contestants. All of the other contestants.


    It was a tradition that, while defeated, knights would return for the final match. William and Estela were busy glaring at one another. Or at least Relma thought William was glaring. His helm hid his expression, but his body language was angry. And the glowing green eyes made him look furious no matter what he felt.


    Saphra was knitting over to one side, working on a new scarf from the looks of things. Her eyes were gleaming faintly as she did so. Fayn was a few feet away, using a whetstone on her sword. No one was talking as they waited. It was unbearable.


    "So how is this final match going to go?" asked Reginald from where he sat to the left. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''m not really sure. Nothing like this tournament has been done in years," said Frederick, just above him. "The other contests are fairly standard. and they were used as a model.


    "Unfortunately, an archery contest is different from sword to sword.


    "So, there aren''t any experts."


    "When was the last time you had knights here?" asked Reginald.


    "I believe, shortly after the death of Anoa IX," said Frederick. "There were several smaller ones'', of course, but nothing on this scale."


    And then Davian came forward. "Ladies and gentlemen! Commoners and nobles! I greet you!" Cheers broke out with such fervor Davian had to wait for them to die down before he could go on. He waited for almost a minute. "We have watched round after round of a dozen tournaments! We have observed the greatest knights and warriors of Harlenor in epic confrontations! Each round has been more harrowing than the last!


    "But now, we have come to the final rounds! Three knights have proven worthy of this round! But only one can hope to return home victorious!"


    The cheers came back all the louder. And they lasted still longer. Finally, Davian turned around to look at all sides of the crowd in turn. "First among them, the Princess of Escor herself, Estela Vortegex!"


    A horn call rang out, and Estela marched forward. Yet she did not shed her cloak as she did so; she kept it around her as she walked into the ring. She drew her sword with a flourish and fell to one knee, as was tradition. The cheers were deafening.


    "Second, a valiant knight who has faced demons of all kinds, and wandered the blighted realm of Blackfear, William Gabriel!" said Davian.


    William loosed his cloak and handed it to Felix. Then he marched forward without any elaborate moves. He kneeled and bowed his head. There was only a little less cheering this time. Estela was known to the people of Gel Carn, so William had a disadvantage.


    "And finally, the niece of the Steward and a powerful warrior in her own right, Fayn Lancel!" said Davian.


    There were fewer cheers this time, significantly fewer. Fayn moved forward, two-handed sword in hand. She tested the wait before grasping her cloak and throwing it off dramatically. It flowed into the wind and then up into the air. It probably would have been utterly useless in actual bad weather.


    Why did she even bother with it? Though it must have done some good. Some of the cheers grew louder as Fayn, too, kneeled. Relma was glad about this, at least.


    "However, there is an odd number of contestants this tournament!" said Davian. "Thus, each of these three will draw lots. The one who draws the long straw will observe while the other two do battle. When the fight has finished, the last match of the tournament will be set."


    Davian produced the lots and moved forward. Reginald looked to Varsus. "How do you think this will go?"


    "My guess is they''ve rigged the straws," said Varsus. He sounded annoyed, and perhaps he had a right to be.


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Reginald.


    "More is at stake than a tournament. This is a public viewing where knights can show off their skills," said Varsus. "Gel Carn has not come off very well, having mostly lost or advanced by default.


    "They''ll rig the match, so Fayn draws the long one. After that, Estela and William will knock each other out. That will give two chances for William to be defeated, in which case Gel Carn wins either way."


    "That''s a bit cynical," said Relma.


    "Ladies and gentlemen!" said Davian. "The lots have been drawn!" More cheers. Nothing got the crowd pumped for a climax like several attempted murders, it seemed. "On this day, Fayn Lancel will fight Estela Vortegex in single combat!"


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    "Benarus must hate Fayn more than we thought," said Reginald, laughing.


    "Or, maybe, he didn''t cheat," said Relma, annoyed. Everyone took for granted that everyone involved was only in it for themselves. Why did everyone always assume the worst about people?


    Then Saphra started laughing far harder than Reginald. She doubled over with hysterical glee as Relma looked at her in annoyance. Then she righted herself and smiled. "Why don''t we keep our guesses credible here, shall we? I do hope someone gets maimed during this."


    "Why are you so dead set on everyone maiming each other, Saphra?" asked Reginald.


    "A general sense of loathing goes a long way," said Saphra.


    "But why do you loathe everyone?" asked Reginald, moving over.


    "Do I need a reason?" asked Saphra.


    "Yes!" snapped Relma, in no mood for her. Then she paused. "Hang on, where''s Korlac. And Ajax, for that matter?"


    "Sir Korlac is no longer with us," said Varsus. "He left with all his entourage yesterday."


    Relma blinked in surprise. "Why?"


    "He disapproved of Benarus'' handling of the investigation," said Varsus. "He found the hasty way he tried to resolve it bad form. And the subsequent pardon disgraceful.


    "He departed before the tournament was over."


    "That''s a personal insult!" said Relma.


    "He took it as a personal insult that he couldn''t finish his investigation," said Saphra. "Antion has quint ideas about the rule of law. They don''t like duels of honor much at all. So I believe King Andoa outlawed them."


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "Well," said Reginald, "my uncle Raynald De Chevlon was mocked for his withered arm. So he challenged everyone who did it to a duel and killed them. Then their grieving family members challenged him to a duel, and he killed all of them too.


    "They sought legal recourse, but he was untouchable. Nothing he''d done was illegal. To soothe the nobles. King Andoa ordered Raynald to depart the city and not return. He then abolished the practice of duels of honor."


    "After that, people stopped mocking Uncle Raynald for his arm," said Saphra. "It was hilarious."


    "You weren''t even born then," said Reginald.


    "And the records were a wonderful read," said Saphra. "I''d much rather just hang everyone who opposes me. No hope of them winning, you understand?"


    "Well then, I''m glad you don''t rule Harlenor." snapped Relma. "What about Ajax?"


    "He was not allowed his seat here," said Frederick. "He helped Ronald to escape, remember?"


    "But you did that too!" said Relma. "Why are you allowed a seat and not Ajax?"


    "The crowds would probably be outraged if I wasn''t," admitted Frederick.


    So it wasn''t so much Ajax being singled out as everyone else being given special treatment. What was the difference? The whole world seemed to operate with unfair differences. People were given special treatment because of their blood.


    He would have hung if Ham had been a commoner and done what he did. But because of his family, he was merely inconvenienced.


    The prayers were finished. William stepped off the field, and Estela and Fayn took their positions. For a long moment, they held their silence.


    Then Estela charged forward. Fayn struck at her but dodged while slashing instead of the aggressive style she''d used before. Estela stabbed and slashed, cloak flowing around her as she did so.


    "Fayn is fighting differently from last time," said Varsus.


    "What do you mean?" said Reginald.


    "Last time, she was all aggression with no relent. She never stopped attacking," said Varsus. "Now, she seems like she is trying to bait Estela."


    "Well, we know she has fire," said Reginald. "Relma, what does Estela have up her sleeve?"


    Relma shifted. "Um, she''s an excellent swordsman."


    Reginald blinked. "That''s it?"


    "Look, not everyone has some secret power that they can unlock in times of need," said Relma. "And anyway, I don''t think setting people on fire should be tournament legal. Even doing it to yourself."


    Estela began to drive Fayn across the ring. But Fayn kept her at a distance, slashing with her sword. Always staying just out of reach. Gradually she reached the edge of the ring but slipped away from Estela''s attack at the last minute.


    Bringing around her sword, she nearly struck Estela. But her blow was deflected by a shield, and Estela struck her across the shoulder. Fayn flinched back and soon began to take more blows. Then she ducked under one of Estela''s strikes and slammed her pommel against her helm. Estela reeled back, and Fayn pressed the assault with an onslaught of brutal strikes.


    "Damn it, come on, Estela!" said Relma.


    "I''m not sure you should be rooting for Estela," said Varsus.


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "Estela represents Escor. Fayn represents Gel Carn," said Varsus. "If you are loyal to Gel Carn, Fayn is the one you want to win."


    "I''m loyal to Harlenor," said Relma. "Besides, Estela learned in Gel Carn. So even if she wins, it is still to our credit."


    "Only partially," said Varsus. "It will be better for Gel Carn if Fayn wins."


    And then Fayn stopped her assault and leaped back. Estela used the opening, but as she charged, a flame whip flashed from Fayn''s sword. It struck Estela around the arm and wrapped around her. Estela screamed as Fayn dragged the whip to one side, sending her falling.


    "Is she alright?" asked Relma.


    "Forfeit," said Fayn. "Now."


    Estela had kept her grip on her sword and staggered to her feet. "Never."


    "You really are determined to end up a corpse, aren''t you?" asked Fayn.


    "I am determined to win," said Estela.


    "That makes two of us," laughed Fayn.


    The silver-haired girl charged and brought down her sword. Estela blocked the strike with her sword arm and turned it. But Fayn smashed her again with the pommel and sent her falling to the ground.


    Fayn flourished her blade as Estela reeled. Then, walking forward began to bring it around to Estela''s throat. She did it slowly, for effect.


    She took too long. Estela reached out with her burned arm, screaming as she did so. Then, snatching the blade, she pulled herself up by it and struck Fayn across the helm. Fayn fell to one knee, and Estela hit her again on the shoulder, sending her to the ground.


    Estela''s blade was at Fayn''s throat in a moment. But Fayn did not react. Instead, cheers sounded throughout the stands.


    "The crowd seems to love it," said Garrick.


    Davian came forward. "The victor is Lady Estela! Fayn is defeated!"


    Then Estela collapsed to one knee. Relma ran forward before she could think. William did so as well, kneeling by Fayn. "Is she alright?" asked Relma.


    "Yes, she''s fine. However, compared to her previous injuries, this is nothing," said William.


    Relma then ran up to Estela. "Estela, that was amazing!"


    "I know," said Estela. "Now, can you help me with my hand? I think I broke my wrist."


    "Oh, I''m not sure that will be safe-" began Relma.


    "Do it." hissed Estela.


    Relma helped Estela raise her sword arm to the sky, and the cheers grew even louder. The victory was Estela''s.


    Now she just had to defeat William.


    "My friends, the final match of this tournament will be between the Princess of Escor, trained in Gel Carn!" said Davian. "And William, the heir of House Gabriel, instructed in the sword by House De Chevlon! Trained in the arts of magic by Dust Elves!


    "Only one of these two warriors can hope to emerge victoriously! Only one!


    "But who will it be?"

 Chapter Twenty-Five: Final Round

    The final round began an hour later when Estela was given a chance to rest and drink water. Relma got her some water personally, and Estela ate some bread and wine cut with water. William, meanwhile, was on the opposite side, kneeling beneath the shade of a tree. His hands were clasped in prayer. Once or twice, Felix approached to whisper into his ear, but Relma did not hear what was said. It had been a tense wait, to say the least. Finally, as Estela tested the weight of her sword, Relma approached her.


    "So, do you think you''ll be able to beat him?" Relma asked.


    "Of course, I can beat him, Relma," said Estela, adjusting her shoulders and tying back her hair. "I''m ready for anything."


    "Just be careful, okay," said Relma. "William isn''t a pushover."


    "I know. He wouldn''t have made it to the final round otherwise," said Estela. "Cheer for me, will you?" And taking up her helm, she donned it over her face, so only her eyes could be seen from it.


    Then she made her way to the stairs and waited. Once again, she did not throw away her cloak. Instead, William stood near her, arms crossed, his shield slung over his back.


    "...So, cousin, who do you believe will win?" asked Saphra.


    "Gabriel, of course," said Reginald. "House Vortegex is nothing to compare to us. And House Gabriel is our equal."


    "That''s a bit presumptuous," said Saphra.


    "Only if I''m wrong," said Reginald. "If I''m right, it will be prophetic. No one remembers the wrong predictions, only the right ones."


    "Being lucky doesn''t make you a prophet," said Varsus to one side.


    "Would you care to make a bet on that?" asked Reginald.


    "If you wish," said Varsus. "Fifty crowns that William defeats her."


    "Fifty crowns on William as well," said Saphra.


    "...Hang on, I thought I was the one who supported William winning," said Reginald.


    "You don''t imagine I''d bet against my own kin, do you?" asked Varsus.


    "And William is likely to win," said Saphra. "Estela has gone up against weaker fair so far. De Cathe threw the fight out of respect. Garrick was beaten by technicality, and Fayn was probably lower tier.


    "William at least won all his matches fairly."


    "You sent him into a berserker rage with your scarf," said Reginald.


    "I only determined his strategy for my amusement," said Saphra. "It didn''t actually give him an unfair advantage. He might have chosen such a strategy anyway. And it did make for such a good show."


    "Relma, are you in?" asked Reginald. "We need someone to bet against, or this pool is for nothing."


    "Elranor says that gambling is wrong," said Relma. She was trying to be High King, so it seemed like gambling was a bad habit to get into.


    "Nor will I take part," said Frederick.


    "Ajax, what about you?" asked Reginald.


    "I don''t have any money," said Ajax. "I hunt for my food and sleep outside. I bathe in rivers. Why would I weigh myself down with the stuff."


    "Oh right," said Reginald. "So why did you enter the tournament."


    "Glory," said Ajax, voice bitter.


    "Splendid," said Saphra. "So we want to take bets, but everyone has decided the same person will win the match."


    "A hundred crowns," said a voice.


    Relma looked up and saw Ham sitting with his head bowed. "I''ll bet a hundred crowns on Estela just to see your faces. Match me, or don''t waste my time."


    "I''ll match that," said Reginald.


    Everyone else was. And that was how the bets were made. At the same time, Davian came forward. Cheers came from the crowd. "Friends and countrymen! We now draw to the final round of this tournament! The culmination of all the matches that have taken place so far! On this day, we will see the final battle!


    "A battle fought between a Princess of Escor and a powerful knight of Haldren. Between a demon slayer and a disciple of the Heir of Kings! Ladies and gentlemen, first, I give you William Gabriel!"


    William went forward. He unslung his shield and drew his sword before shrugging off his cloak. Felix took it and raced off. He was always in the shadow of his master, wasn''t he? Cheers resounded as William raised his sword skyward.


    "They certainly are enthusiastic, aren''t they?" asked Relma.


    "Well, this is the final round," said Frederick.


    "I know, but I''m pretty sure they aren''t the strongest people in the tournament," said Relma.


    "We can leave that to the melee afterward," said Frederick.


    "Melee?" asked Ajax.


    "Well, after all the matches are over, they end the tournament with a free-for-all," said Frederick. "It''s viewed as a means to regain some honor if knocked out early."


    "...Who do you think is the strongest?" asked Relma.


    "Myself, Ajax, or Garrick," said Frederick. "De Cathe was probably somewhere near them."


    "Except for Garrick, you were knocked out in the first round," said Relma.


    "I know," said Frederick, sounding bitter.


    "And now, second to enter the arena, but in every way her opponents equal, Estela Vortegex!" cried Davian.


    Estela moved forward, still wearing her cloak. She drew her sword and spun it in a series of flourishes before taking a stance. William mirrored the motion but without any of the flourishings. Instead, he raised his shield and glowered through his helm. Relma, for a moment, wondered if Estela wasn''t facing a demon.


    There was a long silence as they faced each other.


    "Lady Estela, do you have any words to say to your opponent before the match begins?" asked Davian.


    "Today, I will prove the valor of House Vortegex and avenge the slight upon my family you have dealt me," said Estela.


    "If the truth gives you offense, the slight is deserved," said William.


    "Then you will taste my steel," said Estela.


    "By all means, make an attempt," said William.


    And then the match began. Estela went on the offense, striking at William. William mostly defended, blocking her strokes and moving as little as possible. He parried a thrust with his sword and shoved her back, and Estela stumbled and nearly fell, but he did not pursue. There was that strength he possessed again.


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    Estela adjusted her tactics. She began to circle, looking for weaknesses. Whenever William sought to strike at her, she moved away. She had to avoid contests of strength if she would win this.


    She moved with her sword, then stepped forward as William raised his shield. Estela knocked aside William''s shield with her own and brought down her blade. Their swords flashed in the light and locked before Estela bashed him with her shield. William stepped back a few paces as Estela pressed her assault.


    He recovered quickly, and soon they were fighting back and forth, circling even as they fought. Relma watched as the two went faster and faster in battle and found herself detached and bored.


    "They certainly are going at it," said Saphra.


    "Yes, yes, they are," said Relma.


    "What''s wrong?" asked Saphra, leaning back and flipping her dark hair. "Don''t tell me this breathtaking display of martial prowess has wholly exhausted you?"


    "I''m spent, alright," said Relma, looking away. "That whole mess with Fayn took a lot out of me."


    "How wonderful," said Saphra. And she sounded like she meant it. "Perhaps we''ll be saved from civil war."


    Relma saw that William was now on the offensive. He had cast aside his shield and was now wielding his sword in two hands. Estela''s shield was becoming dented beneath his attacks as he pressed her. Already a corner of it had been broken off by his strikes.


    "How does that sword keep not breaking?" asked Relma.


    "It''s Nakmar steel," said Felix. Relma flinched. How did he keep appearing like that? He unsheathed the blade by his side. "I have one like it."


    "Well, they''ll have to do it without me watching," said Saphra.


    "Where are you going?" asked Relma.


    "I''ve lost interest," said Saphra. "Reginald, tell me how things turn out." Wait, after chiding Relma for losing interest, she was walking away from the fight?


    What was wrong with her? Finally, her side was out there!


    And she walked off. Relma looked to Reginald. "Is she usually like that?"


    "All the time," said Reginald. "Very few things can hold Saphra''s interest for long. William is doing a fair job of it, but I don''t think she cares much about the outcome.


    "I think she played that trick with the scarf because she was annoyed he interested her. So she''s playing hard to get."


    "Hard to-," Relma halted. "What would she do if she hated him?"


    "I''m not sure," said Reginald. "I''ve never seen her angry enough to hate someone. Fayn and her used to get on well, though. They spent a lot of time together growing up.


    "I wouldn''t call them friends, but Saphra has people she holds in affection."


    "I can see where Fayn gets her worst traits," said Relma.


    "You don''t know the half of it," said Reginald. "Fayn never liked her parents. They always kept her to one side. Apparently, they had some pretty elaborate instructions for her upbringing.


    "They went off into Blackfear, though, and never came back. So then Fayn just tore up all the instructions and went knight-errant as young as possible. She worked with Saphra a lot, hunting undead and such."


    Had they been working together?


    But to what end?


    Relma decided to change the subject and think more about it later.


    "What are you planning to do when all this is over?" asked Relma.


    "Not really sure. I thought I''d head into Escor with Varsus," said Reginald. "There are rumors of war brewing there, one not even Arengeth can stop. It will be a good place to earn some battle glory.


    "What about you?"


    "I don''t really know. I mean, I''ve got some vague, general ideas," admitted Relma. "Keep going as I was before."


    "You might want to give the matter thought," said Varsus. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Estela had fallen to one knee and struggled to defend herself against William''s attacks. Reginald smiled. "See, Ham, I told you she wouldn''t last."


    "He doesn''t use his shield enough," said Garrick. "William only seems to do well when on the offensive."


    "That''s because of his trainer," said Varsus. "Raynald De Chevlon only has one working arm. So he can''t train shields with him. I will write to my uncle and suggest he have someone compensate for the deficiency."


    "Garrick, what are you planning to do?" asked Relma.


    "Return home to Sorn," said Garrick, eyes not moving away from the match. "I expect I''ll find further work in the employ of Merchant Lord Magnious. He will be pleased that Sorn won the archery contest."


    "So does that pay well?" asked Relma.


    "Actually, yes," said Garrick. "The work is safe, as well."


    "Safe?" asked Relma. "In what way?"


    "Well, mostly, we depopulate islands of natives. The ones who have yet to learn how to forge iron. Sometimes we leave survivors, however. We force them to work on plantations." said Garrick. "Although we also do battle with pirates who prey on the cargo of those plantations."


    Relma shuddered. "That sounds... uh... pleasant."


    "It isn''t," said Garrick. "It pays, however. And there isn''t much threat to life and limb."


    "A warrior of your caliber should seek more honorable employment," said Frederick.


    "I seek employment that pays," said Garrick. "And I seek to be given time to spend my money. Nothing else is relevant."


    "A dust elven response if ever there was one," said Frederick.


    "This coming from the man who escaped with a wanted criminal?" asked Garrick. "You are in no position to judge me on right and wrong."


    "There is a difference between legal and right," said Frederick.


    "No. There isn''t," said Garrick. "Strip away the pretenses, and our moral code is only what we enforce. Suppose neither the government nor the gods curb a given tendency. In that case, that tendency is right at least in the eyes of society.


    "Since the natives cannot stop us, they have no power to enforce their brand of right. Thus it is irrelevant."


    "And I think that''s my cue to go elsewhere," said Relma. She''d had realized what kind of person Garrick was. Did he really believe that? Then she walked over to Fayn, sitting with her hands clasped in front of her. "So, Fayn, got any plans?"


    "No," said Fayn. "What do you want?"


    "Well, see, I''ve been thinking about things, and you''ve grown up in a noble household," said Relma. "I was hoping you might be able to help me."


    Fayn looked up incredulously. "... You''re joking."


    "No, I''m not," said Relma. "An alternate perspective is useful. And you''re about as alternate a perspective as one can get.


    "Seriously. If I ever become King, and that''s a big if, I''ll need to work closely with you as a Steward." She offered a hand. "Truce?"


    Fayn remained silent for a long moment. Then she took it after a moment and finally smiled. It was the first time it had reached her eyes. "Truce."


    "What is this about?"


    Relma paused. "I''m interested in what happened between you and Benarus. I can tell he doesn''t like you and doesn''t seem to have liked your parents."


    "Cervan and Jezebel deserved what they got," said Fayn. "They always treated me like an ornament. Like some doll they could put the right skills into it and use them for their own ends. Eventually, they went off to Blackfear and died; I don''t care."


    "Shouldn''t you honor your parents," said Relma.


    "Shouldn''t you?" asked Fayn.


    "I didn''t know them," said Relma. "And I never will.


    "You had the chance to know yours."


    "That didn''t help," said Fayn. "I never got anything from them.


    "I might have been declared their successor while they were gone, but it was a front. They had a lot of people set up to run things for them. They did a lot of reading into old textbooks about alchemy, trying to become gods. They were never going to let me inherit. Once they became gods, they''d maybe hand me the estate when they didn''t want it.


    "I don''t know, I didn''t wait. See, rumor had it that Telix was looking for a new home. And many of Cervan''s people had their muscles in the Wolven Forest. So Vanion and Wrynncurth set things up with Benarus, and I hired the guides which Telix used. They wiped the bandits out.


    "After that, I disposed of those idiot handlers who thought I was just some doll to be put on a pedestal. Except for Aklus, the son of a bitch. He got away and runs operations for criminals out by Antion."


    "Why did you hate him?" asked Relma.


    "Because he was psychotic," said Fayn. "All he ever talked about was killing people. Once, he killed a servant just because he was in the way. He followed orders from Cervan because Cervan enabled him. Cervan let him kill people, as long as they were people he wanted dead or who didn''t matter.


    "And he helped Jezebel get some of the people she used for her...


    "Experiments."


    "What were they planning?" asked Relma.


    "It doesn''t matter what they were planning," said Fayn. "They''re dead.


    "I read enough of their books to know it had to do with some ancient unholy artifact. Apparently, they''d been setting up pieces in Gel Carn. Eventually, they had to set their plans and go to Kadan. Things were about to start really taking off for their evil scheme.


    "But they never got that far; they got killed by undead and eaten by ghouls. Rather poetic, really. Everybody wants to be the Dark Lord. They all go into the dark arts thinking they will be gods of the new world. They never remember that most people who enter the business get wiped out in the first hurdle."


    Relma thought it was poetic. "You could learn by their example, Fayn.


    "You and Saphra have been very unwise during this Tournament. You could end up like them."


    "This is fun for Saphra," said Fayn. "She came to this tournament to be entertained. And she has been." She paused and looked to the fight. You should pay attention. Things are reaching their climax."


    Relma looked to the fight. "How do you know?"


    William struck Estela in the leg. Estela gasped and fell to the ground. William kneed her across the helm with her leg, sending her sprawling. Estela brought her sword down to smash it against William''s shoulder as she fell back.


    William staggered backward a few paces. It was the largest reaction Relma had seen him do so in the fight so far. Estela began to rise to her feet. Relma expected William to attack, but he stood where he was and waited for her to get to her feet.


    There was a moment of silence.


    "Nice move," said Fayn.


    Then Estela pulled off her cloak and threw it. It caught around William, and he struggled to try and get it off. Before he could, Estela hit him across the helm, sending him to the ground. Cheers came from the ground as Estela put her sword to his throat.


    "It''s over!" said Davian. "The fight is over! Estela Vortegex has won!"


    The crowds went wild. Relma frowned. "That was hardly fair."


    "Everyone else has had years of experience or magical powers," said Fayn. "I think using a cloak to blind your opponent is fair."


    "He let her rise to her feet when she knocked him prone," said Relma. "I don''t see why she couldn''t have returned the favor."


    "I imagine the money might have something to do with the fact," said Fayn.


    "Possibly," admitted Relma. She was going to have to ask Estela about this later. This, technically-not-cheating was getting out of hand.

 Chapter Twenty-Six: Conspiracy of Vengeance

    William was furious.


    He''d had the tournament in hand. He could have won and should have. In skill at arms and strength, he was stronger than Estela. But she had all but cheated, and the crowd had cheered. Nearly a month of desperate labor and battles in the darkest parts of Antion. There had been ceaseless toil healing, and this was how he was repaid?


    To be cheated out of rightful victory by that upstart Princess? By all accounts, he''d won the match. But, just as several others had before him, success was stolen from them. And for what? So Escor could go to war on its own people and drive itself more into the ground. Saphra hadn''t even watched the last round, either.


    All that time coming down here. And the worst part was, Wrynncurth had yet to meet with him. William had come down here to convince him to let go of his vendetta with Tanith, but that had been finished before. More than anything now, William wanted to be back home and resting, his sores gone. A hot, decent meal without any of this excitement.


    To see Tanith and his parents again.


    But he''d have to make a return journey emptyhanded to do that, and he needed more money. And being a Paladin, he would have to stop by such villages as he had yet to visit on the way here. The plague had to be checked, and the undead numbers in Blackfear curbed more on his way through. Then there was the matter of visiting various Lords. Of ensuring all was well and writing down what was not well.


    More danger and useless toil.


    All empty-handed because Estela had cheated.


    So he paced within his pavilion as Felix stood by, arms crossed and face veiled in shadow. Varsus'' guards stood silent outside while Massacre lay belly on the ground. She was eyeing him suspiciously. William felt the chimera guess exactly what he was thinking and feeling. She probably cared little about it, though.


    Massacre was a simple creature, though by no means stupid. She''d be content wherever she could get food and music. But William could not play right now. There was an account to settle here. William reached down to scratch Massacre''s ears, the lion ones. The chimera rolled onto her belly and made a groaning noise. William began to rub her white belly before remembering he was supposed to be angry.


    "We will not let this stand," said William, throwing aside his cloak.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "I should have won that battle. Unfortunately, I did win that battle," said William.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "I know her actions were technically legal, but a technicality is just that," said William. "Not even that. Benarus just looked the other way, like he did with everything in this ridiculous fiasco. At least when it was convenient for him.


    "No, no, I will not let it stand like this."


    "Bah," said Massacre without sympathy.


    "I''ll crush her in the melee," said William. "Completely." Why wasn''t Felix saying anything? Usually, he was the one who tried to talk him out of things.


    "Don''t kill anyone," said Felix.


    "Of course, I''m not going to kill anyone," said William. "Who do you think I am? Estela?"


    "You''re angry and bitter," said Felix. "You are in no position to make a plan right now."


    "Happily, you don''t need to," said a new voice. "I''ve already taken care of the plans."


    William looked up and saw Varsus walking into the tent. His hair was neatly combed, and he smiled. William turned to him. "Varsus, what is it?"


    "Estela has shamed our house," said Varsus. "She won her match through trickery rather than legitimate ability.


    "However, Gel Carn has chosen to let the matter pass." sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes, I know," said William. "But what other choice do we have but to beat her in the melee. There is a prize in the melee for the victor. If we win there-"


    "We will have one," said Varsus. "But we will not have avenged ourselves. Estela would suffer an honorable loss. One with dignity. We do not want that.


    "She must be utterly humiliated as an example that this behavior cannot be tolerated. The honor of House Gabriel, of House De Chevlon, is at stake."


    "And what do you suggest?" asked William, not liking where this was going.


    Varsus turned around. "Follow me, and we''ll discuss it, cousin."


    William met Felix''s gaze, then followed after Varsus. Together they made their way through the tents. Eventually, they came to House De Chevlon''s pavilion. The guards were standing by there in double force. They found Saphra De Chevlon lounging in a chair, knitting as they entered. She was clad in a black dress that bared her ample cleavage. It did so even more than the previous one, and she''d painted her eyes. Her long dark hair fell all around her tanned skin while she smiled.


    "So, you''re here then, Varsus," she said. "And William Gabriel has come with you. I''m glad. I did so very much want you to be part of this conspiracy."


    "Conspiracy?" asked William.


    "Nothing illegal, of course. All perfectly legitimate," said Saphra. "Much like Estela''s victory."


    "I''ll believe that when I hear the details, Lady De Chevlon," said William, now beginning to calm himself. Felix had been right, and Saphra enjoyed every bit of chaos she could sew. "With all respect to your noble lineage."


    Saphra chuckled and arose. "Very well.


    "There are only a few others who need to arrive."


    William waited. Soon a familiar face came through the tent door, clad in white. He averted his eyes as William looked at him. "Sir Ham Hawthorne."


    "I..." Ham paused. "I wish to apologize for my earlier scorn of you. I was at least partially drunk, but that doesn''t make it right.


    "You didn''t have to heal me as you did."


    William decided there was no benefit to continuing the vendetta. In other circumstances, his father would have married into the Hawthorne family. "It is of no concern. Words are easily taken back.


    "I suggest you apologize to Lady Relma instead. She was the one that you acted against."


    "Yes, yes, I know," said Ham.


    Reginald came through the tent; next, hand clasping his sword. He smirked at he saw them and looked to have been in good humor. "And I''m here. Sorry, I''m late; my conversations with some beautiful maidens went better than expected. Are we seeking vengeance?"


    "More or less," said Varsus. "No deaths or rulebreaking."


    "Fair enough, sounds fun," said Reginald with a laugh. "Where''s Garrick?"


    "Here," said Garrick as he emerged from the shadows. He was clad in armor, and his sword was on his back.


    William was surprised by his presence. He was not one of those he''d thought to find in such a meeting. "...I was given to believe you held no grudge against Estela."


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "I do not," said Garrick. "I respect her willingness to do whatever is necessary to get what she wants. However, I am being paid to participate in this conspiracy. My presence here is nothing personal. Merely a matter of business.


    "Knights of the Coin exist to serve the best interests of our clients. We do so regardless of personal feelings."


    "How much are you being paid?" asked Varsus.


    "Six crowns," said Garrick.


    "That''s it?" asked William.


    "I find myself rather short of money at the moment," said Garrick. "And it seemed like the in thing to do."


    "And what exactly is this conspiracy?" asked William.


    "Simple enough," said Saphra. "As soon as the tournament begins, everyone here will cooperate. We will attack Estela together all at once. Then, once she has been removed from the fight, we''ll turn our attention to the others as one.


    "Cooperating, we will win the melee.


    "We will then distribute the prize money for the melee among the participating houses. De Chevlon, Gabriel, Hawkthorne, and Estov."


    "I do not have a house. There is no nobility in Sorn," said Garrick.


    "Yes, of course, I merely put in your family name for the effect," said Saphra. "Obviously, you have a separate payment."


    "This doesn''t seem right," said Ham.


    "When have you been concerned with what''s right, Ham?" asked Reginald.


    "Just recently," admitted Ham.


    "Estela cheated against Garrick. And she cheated against dear William," said Saphra.


    "Relma and Fayn didn''t advance fairly either," noted William.


    "Yes, but they didn''t win the tournament," said Saphra.


    "If I may, Baroness De Chevlon, Estela should not be our first target," said Garrick.


    "Oh, and who would you suggest?" asked Saphra, looking up.


    "We should target Ajax first," said Garrick. "He is by far the most dangerous of the contestants who will be present. If we defeat him first, the only remaining ones will be De Cathe, Relma, Estela, and Fayn. On the other hand, if we crush Ajax quickly, they may still need to realize we are working together.


    "From there, we can work on Estela and Fayn. Finally, Relma."


    "You can skip from Estela to Relma if you like." said a familiar voice.


    Fayn emerged into the room bearing a new poleaxe. Ham looked at her in surprise. "Lady Fayn? What are you doing here?"


    "I thought I might join in," said Fayn. "For part of the money."


    "You owe Lady Artorious," said Ham. "You would be hanging if she hadn''t forfeited. And you are joining up with us against her friend."


    "Yes," said Fayn. "But she broke my father''s poleaxe. So I had to get this one repaired. I was going to knock out Estela and Relma anyway. This just helps me with that. It''s not like losing the melee will hurt her any.


    "Look, this is completely legitimate. So I will make a condition that we ignore Relma in the melee. It isn''t like she''s a threat."


    "She beat you," noted Reginald.


    "Under the gaze of the Heaven''s Eye," said Fayn. "A nexus of divine energies specifically attuned to her bloodline. Of course, she''s going to win with an advantage like that.


    "Its mere presence allowed Sir Orson to kill a hundred elves at the gates of Gel Carn. To say nothing of when Anoa let the waters in.


    "This entire tournament has been rigged from start to finish. And my uncle tried to hang me just to avoid slowing it down. If I can ruin things for him by messing up Estela''s perfect features, well... why not?"


    Varsus looked at her. "...It seems we will have an overwhelming advantage."


    "No, you will not," said Ham. "I won''t have any part of this. I will go and tell them exactly what you are planning."


    "Ham, come on, we''re not breaking any rules," said Reginald.


    "Neither was Estela," said Ham.


    "Turnabout is fair play," said Reginald.


    "So said Estela," said Ham. "I''ve done enough detestable things already. I won''t do another." And he walked out.


    William glanced at Felix. "Follow him."


    Felix nodded and walked out.


    Saphra clapped with obvious sarcasm. "Well, this is excellent; we don''t have to pay House Hawkthorne."


    "Hawkthorne has a point," said William. "Couldn''t we just agree to an alliance?"


    "House Vortegex has given insult to House Gabriel," said Varsus. "There must be paid in kind."


    "I don''t think Uncle would agree with that," said William. He was beginning to think that things were going too far now that he had calmed down a bit.


    "Your Father would," said Varsus. "You cannot let people think there is no consequence to crossing you. That''s how nations fall.


    "Once it is believed a person is weak, bad actors take advantage of them. Debts need to be remembered. You must be viewed as dangerous, or you will be nothing."


    William took the point.


    He remembered Kata of the Furbearers. She had been thrown in a cell with her people and imprisoned in violation of every possible law and truce. It had been a wholly unjust war, but the Furbearers had been weak, so it hadn''t mattered. No one had any time to help them, and many did not have the inclination. If not for Tanith and William, they might have had a very grim ending.


    Although people dying in cells, languishing. Even Jehair had not been able to tolerate it and had put aside her plans to deal with it.


    Father had taught him the necessity of retribution. So it was in every successful ruler.


    "Still, this is a matter of some concern. Our enemies now know what we are doing," said Garrick.


    Saphra yawned. "Ham left too early.


    "I have certain powers of sorcery I have learned. Powers that will ensure our victory."


    "What are those?" asked William, liking this less and less.


    Saphra finished her knitting. Then they raised the violet cloth. "These are colors of Rioletta. When the wearer wills it, webs will be sent forward to tangle the one responsible. The webs that wrap around the person will cause them great agony. With these, we may take Ajax out of the fight easily."


    "And the price?" asked William.


    "Price?" asked Saphra with false innocence.


    "Rioletta is the Goddess of Weaving," said William. "Among the things she weaves is fate. There is always a price for her aid."


    "Actually, this one was already paid for," said Saphra. "You see, I performed the requested deed to gain the use of my previous scarf. Unfortunately, however, it was destroyed before I could use it for my own ends. In such situations, Rioletta offers replacement goods.


    "She''s very reasonable."


    "Meaning the price has already been paid," said Varsus.


    "Of course, it has already been paid," asked Saphra. "I wouldn''t be using infernal bargains to win a tournament. However amusing it might be."


    "The last time I accepted your colors, I nearly killed my cousin," said William.


    "Don''t worry," said Saphra. "This time, you''ll nearly kill someone you don''t like."


    "I''m not wearing it," said William.


    "You are the only one who can use it, William," said Varsus. "I have no experience with magic. But you do."


    "Just give it to me," said Fayn as she grasped it. Then she drew back her hand with a yelp. Her hand had what appeared to be a spider bite on her hand. "Ow!


    "What was that?"


    "You are in league with a fire spirit, Fayn," said Saphra. "Rioletta hates fires. They burn her webs. Also, she specifically requested William wear it.


    "I''m afraid William is the only one who can wield this thread."


    "Rioletta is as much a demon as a god," said William. "Why would she work with me? A Paladin of Elranor?" A better question might be why everyone was pressuring him into this.


    Saphra rolled her eyes. "My, someone has delusions of their own importance. In my experience, demons don''t really hate paladins all that much. On the contrary, they enjoy corrupting them far too much."


    "In your experience?" asked William.


    "I am a sorceress, dear," said Saphra. "I''ve experimented with many sources of power."


    "... Ajax''s howl may have the power to counteract the threads," said Garrick.


    "Don''t be foolish," said Saphra. "Rioletta''s threads are not so easily swayed as the winds."


    "The wind is not easily swayed," said Garrick. "It spent many years gaining the allegiance of the winds of the Dusk Lands. And the winds of the Sea of Power."


    "Well, you certainly wasted your time," said Saphra.


    "We will use the webs as a last resort," said William. "Garrick, Reginald, and Fayn should go up against Ajax. Varsus, you should deal with Relma. I will handle Estela personally."


    "What about Ham?" asked Fayn.


    "Ham might not work against us," said Reginald. "He''ll probably tell them what happened, but he won''t side against us directly. Instead, he''ll either stay neutral or join our side.


    "He does stuff like this sometimes."


    "Switches sides?" asked William.


    "Does the honorable thing when it isn''t the smart thing," said Reginald. "Usually after he''s bounced back from doing something stupid. His family isn''t exactly an honorable lot."


    "You do have a lot of faith in that drunkard, don''t you?" asked Saphra.


    "Ham won''t betray us. I promise you that," said Reginald.


    "What about what he did with Bishop Joffrey," said Varsus.


    "Joffrey had it coming," said William, remembering his behavior in Ascorn.


    "I dare say he did," said Varsus. "It still says something about our friend."


    "That was vendetta, Varsus," said Raynald. "And not the fun vendetta where everyone shakes hands at the end. Ham told me Joffrey killed a personal friend of his out of spite. And this is after selling Ascorn to the Healer''s Guild and getting mixed up with criminals.


    "We are talking about a degenerate, vile man who killed an innocent old woman out of spite. This after letting the plague spread through the streets. And Ham only went after him when he tried to enslave the population of Blackfear. Ham picked the right moment, the bastard had it coming, and Cirithil is out of the game these days, anyway.


    "This isn''t even in the same ballpark as Cirithil.


    "Don''t get me wrong, I''m unhappy about Estela doing this. But it''s all in good fun. What the priesthood did was pure heresy."


    William nodded. "I agree with Reginald.


    "The two situations aren''t even remotely comparable. If they were, this tournament wouldn''t be the correct place to hash them out. I think I''ve been too harsh on Ham so far. I must have encountered him on that roadside during a dark period in his life. And he did save many people by his actions." He sighed. "But you''re right, Varsus.


    "We''re going to win the melee."


    William grasped the colors and tied them on his arm. Once again, he felt the presence, but this time he knew it for what it was. He felt like a fly, caught upon thousands of webs. Webs that stretched across the entire world, trapping every living creature.


    They were all trapped in the web. And now he saw her, or perhaps her shadow. A spider, yet he saw the upper body of a human in place of the face. He gripped the colors, closed his eyes, and focused.


    When he opened them again, the webs had departed.


    William untied the colors, folded them, and set them into one of his pockets. Varsus looked at him. "Well?"


    "I can do it," said William.


    It was time to repay Estela''s actions in kind.

 Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Informant

    Relma found Estela visiting Frederick soon after. It was within their pavilion, laid aside at Benarus'' expense. Frederick and Ronald had been given wine and servants to see to them. Relma thought this wise of Benarus. During the tournament, Relma had heard stories from Ronald of his adventures. They''d hunted much undead and saved the life of William and Felix, along with a famous druid called Jehair.


    They''d also rescued many people who had been taken by slaving mercenaries from Sorn. No one was sure about the details, but William maintained it was the High Priest. Relma could simply not believe this, however, and neither had Ronald. You didn''t become a High Priest of Elranor without some faith, and no one with any faith would do such a thing.


    Either way, the knight was still being forced to spend a lot of time in bed by Aunt Pan. As it turned out, he was sleeping, and Estela was sitting there. Ronald was washing his hands while standing guard a little way off.


    "Estela, I need to talk to you," said Relma.


    Estela looked up in surprise. "What is it?"


    "I..." Relma didn''t want to say this. But she had to. "Well, honestly, how you won the tournament was wrong."


    "What?" said Estela, staring at her.


    "You didn''t break any rules," said Relma. "But you flouted every courtesy and tradition. Against Garrick, it was understandable; he''d already broken them. But William didn''t cheat or anything. You broke tradition simply because you didn''t like him."


    "I didn''t have a choice," said Estela.


    "You could have lost the tournament," said Relma. "It would have been an honorable match."


    There was silence for a moment.


    "...I need the money, Relma," said Estela with a sigh. "My family needs the money. We''ve had to raise several armies in the past decades, and the crown is virtually bankrupt. And now Stormstrike in eastern Escor is planning something.


    "We may be in league with the Dragon Empire.


    "With the money I won from the tournament, we could pay off our debts and refill the treasury. I must win this, or my family could fall from power."


    "Oh, well, that''s a good reason," admitted Relma. "Still, maybe you should explain yourself to William. It wouldn''t be a good idea to have a vendetta between Vortegex and Gabriel."


    "I don''t need to justify myself to him," said Estela. "Do you know what his allies did in the Escorian Civil War? What Arraxia and the Dust Elves? And all in a war House Gabriel started."


    "Maybe he needed the money as well?" said Relma. "Did you ever consider that?"


    Before Estela could answer, the door opened. She looked up to where a man was entering. "Yes?"


    Ham Hawkthorne entered the room. Estela stood up in anger. "Sir Ham Hawkthorne. What do you want?"


    Ham looked different. He bowed his head. "I''ve come to apologize for my previous behavior. I was cowardly, ungrateful, and horrible. I am... ashamed of my previous actions."


    "Don''t worry about it. I forgive you," said Relma.


    "He tried to cleave in your skull from behind," said Estela.


    "Well, yes, that was pretty bad," said Relma. "But he apologized. And he seems pretty genuine." She looked back to Ham. It wasn''t like she got anything out of holding a grudge here. "Why were you so upset about losing anyway?"


    Ham shifted. "My father, he is a mighty lord. But he''s been ridiculed for never taking the field of battle. He doesn''t regard combat as anything glorious. But men say that House Hawkthorne are weak merchants who advance only by marrying well.


    "I fought alongside Reginald to try and gain recognition for my deeds. But when I returned, I..."


    "Yes?" said Relma.


    "A number of my father''s business partners in Sorn cheated him," said Ham. "He lost a great deal of money and has debts to repay. I hoped to win this tournament and pay off those debts.


    "Instead, I ended up being bailed out by Reginald.


    "I''m sorry."


    "Sound familiar, Estela?" asked Relma, looking at her.


    Estela shifted. "...Alright, point taken. Is there anything else?"


    "I also have a warning for Lady Estela," said Ham.


    "What is it?" asked Estela, looking eager for it to end.


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    "House Gabriel and House De Chevlon, as well as several others. They could have agreed to unite during the melee," said Ham. "They plan to beat you into the ground and then split the difference.


    "And I will be standing with them."


    "Then why are you warning us?" asked Relma.


    "It wouldn''t be fair," said Ham. "I already tried cheating once; I''m not going to do it again. It would be sinking back to my previous level."


    "You could side with us," said Relma.


    "I already owe Reginald a debt for bailing me out of prison," said Ham. "And the De Chevlons are considering paying off my father''s debts for him.


    "It may not be right, but I must pick a side.


    "I choose my allies."


    Relma remained silent for a moment. "...Thank you, Ham."


    Ham nodded. "Milady."


    Then he turned and walked out. Estela clasped her hands together and leaned back. "...Well, we''ll have to do something about this. Frederick is still too weak to fight. That means it will be you, me, and Ajax against Varsus, William, Reginald, and Ham. If we could get Fayn and Garrick on our side-"


    Ham walked back in. Estela looked up. "Yes?"


    "Sorry, I forgot to mention," said Ham. "Garrick is in Saphra De Chevlon''s pay; she hired him with a promise for part of the winnings. And Fayn is on their side as well.


    "Good day." Then he walked out again.


    Estela sighed. "...We''re doomed."


    "We could always just forfeit," said Relma. "We''ve already won the tournament. Then they''d just have to fight each other."


    "Out of the question," said Estela. "The honor of House Vortegex is on the line. Why did De Cathe have to go off the Black Marshes like that? If he were here, this would be far easier."


    "I could choose a substitute," blurted Frederick.


    Estela looked up at him. His eyes were open. "What?"


    "When a knight cannot fight in the melee because of injury. It is a tradition that they can choose a substitute to take their place," said Frederick. "I will choose Ronald to act in my stead. He proved himself in the Raishan War.


    "With his help, you may stand a chance."


    "Maybe," said Relma. "Ajax will want to go after Garrick for a rematch. He took his loss personally."


    Estela shook her head. "That will lead to a stalemate between them, and we''ll be cleaned up. "Okay, Relma, talk to Ajax. Ask him to go directly after Ham once the fight starts. We''ll want him knocked out quickly. That will leave us even in number. Then he can take care of Garrick while we deal with the others.


    "Ronald should go with Varsus since Varsus is a defensive specialist. You deal with Fayn, and I''ll handle Gabriel."


    "What is Fayn doing with them?" wondered Relma.


    "Trying to get revenge on you," said Estela.


    "Well, that''s the obvious answer. But we called a truce," said Relma.


    "She said she called a truce," said Estela.


    "I don''t know," admitted Relma. "I think she has something else planned. Maybe she''s planning to backstab them or something."


    "Maybe, maybe not," said Estela. "Either way, we''re assuming that she''s not on our side.


    "Do you think you could ask Lady Pandora for aid?"


    Relma considered it. "I could talk to her about it," she said after a moment.


    Later in her house, Aunt Pan did not look up from her knitting. For a moment, she remained silent, needles moving rapidly. Then, finally, she looked up. "No."


    "What do you mean, no?" asked Relma.


    "I mean no, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "I told you before, I would help you get into the tournament to win or lose as you could on your own. But, I''m not going to balance the scales in your favor."


    "But why not?" asked Relma. "House Gabriel will be doing exactly the same thing!"


    "True," conceded Aunt Pan. "But then, they have a vested interest in this tournament is won. I don''t. Whoever wins the melee is of no concern to me. Estela already has the money she needs."


    "Well, yes, but if she wins the prize for the melee, she''ll have even more," said Relma. It sounded weak, even to her.


    "Why do you think Varsus came down here in the first place?" asked Aunt.


    "Hmm?" said Relma.


    "Varsus is the heir to Brisgald," said Aunt Pan. "A significant person in House Gabriel. He didn''t come down here purely to fight a tournament. Escor is a concern to everyone in Harlenor. If it falls into chaos, the Dragon Empire could break through the Pass of Dragon Bones."


    "What''s the Pass of Dragon Bones?" asked Relma.


    "A strategic location in Southern Escor," said Aunt Pan. "Very difficult to move an army through."


    In any case, I can''t take a side even if I want to. I am Lady Pandora. My great advantage is existing outside of politics. Every time I involve myself, I become committed.


    "If I were to provide your side with the means to victory, other people would start asking. The melee needs to be more important for me to get involved. At worst, House Vortegex will owe House Gabriel or De Chevlon a favor."


    "What does that mean?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan sighed. "Relma, House De Chevlon has grown rich on the slave trade. And House Gabriel is catching up to them with their malas riches. Do you really think they will let House Vortegex fall for the sake of some generations-old grudge? When could their replacement be an empire of firebreathing lizards? One who would devour whole flocks?"


    Relma considered that. "...No."


    "Exactly," said Aunt Pan. "No.


    "I''ve been negotiating with Varsus and Saphra De Chevlon. All while they were here under the pretext of joining the tournament.


    "But Estela has thrown the entire plan into disarray. The way things are going now, House Vortegex isn''t going to owe House Gabriel or De Chevlon anything."


    "So you didn''t want Estela to win?" asked Relma.


    "Don''t be absurd," said Aunt Pan. "We''d much prefer House Vortegex independent from House Gabriel. It will make the succession far easier to manage. Also, bringing Escor into the fold will be much easier.


    "But having Escor being indebted to House Gabriel would likely be the death knell to your chances. Ascending the throne would become nearly impossible for you at that point. We''d need to wait for a generation, at least.


    "Even then, Vanion and his heirs might be too competent and could be another age. Chances to reinstall royal bloodlines don''t come about often."


    "So why don''t you want us to win?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan shrugged. "House Gabriel and De Chevlon hold grudges. They perceive that they''ve been wronged. So now they want to get back at House Vortegex. So let them.


    "If their vengeance is defeating Estela three-on-one without anyone dying... So be it. It is definitely preferable to war or a more severe conflict. None of them are wicked enough to deliberately kill or permanently injure her. Estela suffering the consequences of her actions might be a good experience. She''s far too reckless for her own good. And she did do a great deal to earn their ire.


    "Conversely, if you knock them out, they''ll stew over their losses. They may then do something spiteful and dangerous.


    "I''d much rather have things end in the tournament."


    Relma felt annoyed at this. Just who was Aunt Pan to tell her how the others would react. She could win and make this work and not have a grudge seething afterward. She''d prove it. "Well, I''m going to try and win this melee all the same."


    "That is your choice, of course," said Aunt Pan. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Relma turned around and walked out. She should have known they''d have to handle this on their own.

 Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Melee

    Ronald looked pretty good in his armor. The white cloak of Sir Frederick allowed him to cut a dashing figure for a halfing. But, unfortunately, he also looked very nervous, looking out over the cheering crowds. Ronald was also aware of this fact.


    Relma thought he might be more prepared than her, though. So she technically didn''t even qualify. Actually, most people in the tournament had yet to qualify. This could have boded better.


    He glanced at Sir Frederick, who had been allowed to sit in the stands. "Are you sure about this, Sir Frederick?"


    "I am," said Frederick. "You more than proved yourself in Khasmir and Blackfear, Ronald. I am not expecting you to win. Merely represent me with the bravery and skill befitting your station."


    "I''m afraid I''ll fail at that," said Ronald.


    "Nonsense," said Frederick. "Just keep Varsus occupied long enough for the other battles to finish. That is all you need to do."


    Ronald nodded. "...Alright."


    Relma looked away from Ronald to where William and Estela glared at one another. William''s sword was drawn, his hands were clasped over it, and his shield was lying by him. On his arms was a new violet scarf, and Relma hoped this one didn''t have any enchantments on it. Estela sat a little away, sharpening her blade, eyes hardly leaving her enemy.


    "Are you ready for this, Estela?" asked Relma.


    Estela looked up. "As ready as I''ll ever be."


    Relma looked over to her other side, where Ajax stood on one hand. His hair was hanging down low, and his clawed hands were flexing. "Ajax, what about you?"


    Ajax let himself down and put himself into a cross-legged position. "Garrick is not going to know what hit him. I live for this. You try to survive until I''ve taken down the others."


    Reginald and Varsus were a little beyond William. Beyond them was Saphra, who was knitting. Then there was Garrick, who appeared to be meditating. Ham was pacing back and forth, shield slung over his back. And Fayn was testing the weight of her claymore.


    The wait ended.


    Davian came forward, and the crowds cheered. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the melee event!" The cheers grew even louder. "Today, we do not have a free for all! But a full-scale battle! Two sides gathered to determine the strongest! In the one corner, House Gabriel, House De Chevlon, and their allies!"


    Those named stood and went forward into the ring to rising cheers. Relma hoped Ham did better in this round than in his last fight. Then again, if he did, it wouldn''t be to her benefit.


    "And in the other corner, the Heir of Kings and she assembled disciples!" cried Davian.


    Relma sighed. They rose up and walked out to meet their enemy. As they did, Estela sheathed her sword.


    "I wish he wouldn''t keep calling us that," said Estela under her breath.


    "It''s just drama." said Frederick as they passed him ." Don''t pay it any mind."


    Estela stopped and looked at him. "Don''t you really like that nonsense?"


    "To a point," admitted Frederick. "I use it because it helps with my image. I''m not the strongest person in this tournament. But they believe I am because I put forth an image well and pick my battles."


    "But you would have beaten Varsus," said Ronald.


    "Well, I confess, I am one of the strongest," said Frederick. "Do me proud, Ronald Fulsof."


    And out they went. They assembled across the ring, and then they waited. There was a sound of drums beating, and Relma wondered how they would win. If, she reminded herself if they would win.


    Ajax and Garrick were equally matched. Ronald might be able to stalemate Varsus if they were lucky. Estela was a bit below William. That left Relma to fight Fayn, Ham, and Reginald. There was no, if at all. Unless Relma''s suspicions were correct, this bout was already lost.


    "Keep your backs to each other," said Estela. "If we stay tight, they won''t be able to come on us from multiple sides."


    "Then Fayn will just use her fire whip," noted Relma.


    "Oh," said Estela.


    "Let the combat begin!" cried Davian.


    The two sides ran toward each other. Once again, Relma felt that peculiar sense of detachment as she ran forward. And then several things happened very quickly.


    Fayn summoned a whip of flame into her sword and lashed out with it. But it caught Reginald in the back. The orange-haired De Chevlon screamed in pain and fell forward into the dirt. Fayn lashed out again at Ham, but he warded off the assault with his shield.


    "Reginald!" cried Ham.


    The De Chevlon''s and Gabriel''s fell into chaos. Ronald rushed at Varsus and met him in a flurry of blows. Varsus seemed to be having the better of it with precise defenses. William and Estela met sword to sword once more, and once again, William seemed the master. Relma brought her sword toward Ham, who blocked the stroke and drove her back.


    "Contract breaker!" roared Garrick in fury as he charged toward Fayn. Where was Ajax?


    In a moment, Relma had no time to think. She was being driven back by Ham. This was not the angry, overconfident, and slightly inebriated Ham before. He had, apparently, turned over a new leaf. And that was not good for her.


    Relma quickly found herself fighting to stay in the tournament. Her shield was bashed from her grip, and she felt her arm wrench. She fell to one knee and parried a stroke from Ham, only for him to twist his blade and send hers flying.


    Taking a chance, she rolled past him and snatched up her blade. As she did, time seemed to slow down.


    Then she saw Garrick. He was assailing Fayn with vicious strokes. Their swords were moving faster by the moment. And yet Fayn was losing badly. She already had several major wounds. Moreover, her flames were useless against Garrick''s winds. Then she was thrown down, and Garrick raised his sword to kill her.


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    Relma rushed forward, Lightning Trail in hand. As she did, she felt that same battle she''d had when beneath the Heaven''s Eye. She interposed herself between Garrick''s blow and brought up the sword. Their blades met, and there was a flash.


    Relma was forced to one knee, and Garrick staggered back. He recovered quickly and glared in a fury. "Step aside, or you will join this heretic in death. Those who violate contracts deserve no mercy."


    "Aren''t you overreacting a little?" asked Relma.


    "No," said Garrick.


    He swung his sword again, and this time when Relma met it, she was also thrown down. Again, the wind howled as he spun the blade and brought it down for the finishing blow!


    And then Ajax was there. He landed on the flat of Garrick''s blade and kicked him in the face. Garrick fell backward, landing as Ajax landed on one hand and caught Garrick''s blade in one hand.


    Bringing it around, he plunged it two feet into the ground next to where Garrick was lying. "Get up, Dust Elf," said Ajax. "I won''t let my glory be stolen by a surprise attack."


    Garrick grasped the sword and pulled himself up, bleeding from the mouth. Relma looked to Ajax. "Where were you?"


    "Oh," said Ajax, "waiting for the most dramatic moment.


    "Remind me what happened the last time you tried this, Relma?"


    "Thanks, Ajax," said Relma.


    "Thank him after you are yet alive," said Garrick. "Winds of the Dusk Lands! Gusts of the Sea of Power! I command you!"


    Ajax met him in battle. Wolf and wind clashed again as the power of Ajax''s howling drove away the wind.


    Relma turned to Fayn and helped her up. "Fayn, you should get out of the arena. Now."


    "Hardly," scoffed Fayn, readying her blade. "I''m going to win."


    And then Ham was on her, attacking her in a fury. Her sword and his were a blur as they closed. Why was Ham so furious? And why hadn''t he interfered earlier?


    Relma looked where he had come from and saw Reginald. Moving over to him, she kneeled and realized how pale he looked. Then, setting a hand on one armored shoulder, she tried to heal him. Only then did she realize how weak he was?


    Fayn''s surprise attack would kill him if Relma didn''t do something.


    So she focused on healing his injury. Restoring burnt flesh. Mending wounds.


    As she did, she felt like she was something greater. Something was looking down on the tournament from above. She saw William and Estela fighting it out, and William was having the best of it. He''d broken her shield and had not cast aside his own. It was all Estela could do to hold out.


    Ronald and Varsus were still dueling, but Ronald was being demolished. Varsus made small strokes, deliberately baiting him and delivering minor wounds. It was clear Ronald would be the loser here. Varsus was just better.


    Ham was demolishing Fayn. He''d taken her off guard and wasn''t letting up for a moment. As Relma saw him kick her in the chest and send her reeling, she reflected that Fayn probably deserved it. Yes, her actions were to Relma''s benefit, but they''d still been wrong. She could have just declared for Relma.


    And then there was Garrick and Ajax. They were going at it with clear bloodlust. Both had dealt with the other several wounds. The winds howled like a razor, but Ajax howled in turn. No doubt, the crowd was enjoying the spectacle.


    Where should Relma logically go next in this tournament once she healed Reginald?


    If. If she healed Reginald. He was stable, but she didn''t like leaving him out here. So, reaching down, she pulled him over one shoulder and carried him gradually out of the ring. His weight was immense, and she nearly stumbled as he did. Then she turned to where Varsus was on the verge of beating Ronald.


    Raising Lightning Trail, Relma rushed toward Varsus with a battle cry. He brought her sword around.


    Varsus turned his own blade and disarmed her. Then, with a twist, he slammed her in the forehead with the pommel of his sword. As Relma hit the ground, she reflected that she should have seen that coming. But judging from how Ronald started attacking, she seemed to have done some good. S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The pain hit her.


    Ow.


    Looking at Garrick and Ajax, she saw they were mustering themselves for a final strike. Suddenly Relma was no longer looking at their flesh but at their spirits. She saw Garrick as a shadow, cold and dark. And Ajax was light incarnate, burning all who gazed on them. The two opposites surged toward one another, and she saw the wind spirits with Garrick. They were horrible to behold; their fangs bared.


    The two met. Light and shadow met and struggled.


    Then they passed each other. Ajax landed on his feet, then stumbled forward to one knee. Garrick stood tall for a moment, leaning his blade on one shoulder. Then he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.


    Ajax glanced back and smiled.


    Then Relma saw the flesh again. Fayn had recovered somewhat from her previous fighting. She was now fighting evenly with Ham. Both were furious and intent on defeating each other. So intent, they didn''t react in time when Ajax surged toward them. With two strikes of his legs, he sent both sprawling with his hands, claws at their throats.


    From there, he rose and rushed toward Varsus, who even now had his blade to Ronald''s throat. The blonde knight reacted quickly and began to parry Ajax''s onslaught. For a moment, they fought back and forth as Varsus yielded ground. Then they slowed to a halt, and Varsus stabbed at Ajax. His blade nicked his left shoulder, but Ajax caught him in the neck and forced him to the ground.


    "I yield," said Varsus.


    Ajax arose and looked to William. Estela had lost now. Her blade was on the ground, and her enemy''s sword was at her throat. Ajax howled in triumph and rushed at a weakened William. But William ducked low and smashed his shield into Ajax as he came. They tumbled over each other, grappling. The sword was thrown from William''s hand, but he drew a knife, and soon he and Ajax were locked in a death grip.


    Relma stood up painfully as William was thrown off. Ajax arose and charged at him.


    And then came the whispers. Everything slowed, and Relma saw the scarf around William''s arm begin to pulse as he focused his will. The world suddenly seemed to be shrouded in innumerable spider webs. With each breath they took, billions of threads were severed. And billions were spun. Many possibilities that could have been were gone, and many that could never have existed opened.


    The strands of fate. You could look at them for centuries and not understand even one person''s future. But she could see her own strands and saw they led in one direction. Whatever she did, whatever she sought, her path was preordained. All her efforts would lead to a singular event in many possible ways.


    It would occur by her hand or the hand of a descendant. Baltoth would die. Harlenor Reunited would come to pass as had been prophesied. But how it happened was in her power to choose. But not just her. It was in the hands of everyone. In the hands of Varsus, William, Reginald, every living creature...


    Even Baltoth himself.


    The future was set. But how it was defined was their privilege to choose.


    But for now, new threads were spun for a different purpose. Rioletta''s will was sent forth into the threads themselves. They appeared around Ajax, slowing him, trying to bind him in place. He struggled in them as William snatched up his sword and rushed at him.


    William was about to set his blade to Ajax''s throat. Then Ajax howled. It was louder and more furious than before. The rage of a cornered animal that knows its fate but will not submit without a fight. The crowd shrieked in terror; some ran screaming, clutched their ears, and fell to the ground.


    But William did not.


    The threads were broken. Ajax surged forward and bowled William over. The two tumbled down, and then Ajax fell limp to the ground. William''s blade was in his chest.


    Cheers came from the crowd as they came back. Relma felt sick.


    "Quiet!" snarled Relma. "Haven''t you people had your fill of death with all the wars! Now it comes to this celebration, and you cheered for it! You should be ashamed!" The words did not seem her own. She ran over to Ajax and kneeled by him. His face was pale, and his eyes were afraid. He was not breathing.


    William came by him. "I... I did not mean to kill him. I tried to move my blade, but when he fell, he... it ended up in him... I..."


    No.


    Relma drew out the blade. She looked at the black weapon, a terrible thing bathed in the blood of wicked creatures. It was bound to its wielder and had taken on traits of those he had fought. But it did not reflect him fully.


    She set down the blade and set her hands on Ajax''s chest. Then, closing her eyes, she saw that a claw had severed the strands of fate. This was no longer a person but an object. His spirit was gone, drifting off into its next life.


    Relma called it back.


    The threads of fate had been severed. She took them up and set them back in place. This body was no long Ajax but an object of meat and bone. Relma breathed back life into it.


    Ajax''s eyes turned to her. "Relma..."


    "Idiot," said Relma. "You should have worn armor." And then she began to shudder as her vision blurred and everything went black...

 Chapter Twenty-nine: Rebirth

    Relma felt like she was falling through an endless void of nothingness. Her body, if she had one, she was numb and unfeeling, yet she felt more than ever. As if she was more herself in the nothingness than she ever had been amidst everything else. Or perhaps she merely felt who she was now that it had all been stripped from her.


    As she opened her eyes, she wished something more was around her. She did not need it; she could exist here as the only being for eternity. But she desired things other than herself.


    Into the darkness came light. A great light emanated from her in an all-encompassing wave. When it faded, there was a world around her.


    And then she awoke. Her eyes opened blearily, and she saw Aunt Pan sitting over her knitting. She felt detached again. Relma had a splitting headache on some level, but it didn''t bother her on another. "Aunt Pan?"


    "Well, you are lucky to awaken," said Aunt Pan, not looking up. "After what you did."


    Relma''s mind was a blur. "What did I do?"


    "You brought back the dead," said Aunt Pan. "Not an impossible task, given it was a recent death. But a very difficult one and generally not worth the effort. People are usually back in a generation anyway under a new name.


    "I''ve only done it once or twice."


    "Oh, come on, you could at least pretend as though I did something remarkable," said Relma, more herself now.


    "You did do something remarkable," said Aunt Pan. "And you did it very well and in the perfect context. Gel Carn is positively abuzz with rumors of your nature. But, if I were you, I shouldn''t try anything like that again."


    "Why not?" asked Relma.


    "The universe tends to even itself out," said Aunt Pan. "Pull the threads of fate one way, and you mess with other stories. That is why a subtle touch is best."


    "Are you saying I should have let Ajax stay dead?" asked Relma.


    "Of course not," said Aunt Pan. "While there might be a price to pay, it won''t be nearly as bad as it could have been. You see, you were willing to give up your life."


    "What?" said Relma.


    "When you defeated Fayn, you fully believed her guilty," said Aunt Pan. "But you willingly went to what you believed would be your death solely to save her and Ronald. Of course, we didn''t allow it, but you did not know that.


    "Magic is a strange thing, Relma. It is based on the soul of the one who uses it. The power does not come from some magical spring within you. It comes from who you are. Deals with spirits are merely one way to channel it.


    "In giving up your life, metaphorically speaking, you were able to draw back the life of another."


    "Somehow, I don''t think I''ll be able to go around bringing people back," said Relma.


    "Of course not." scoffed Pan. "This was a miracle, not healing magic."


    "What''s the difference?" asked Relma, feeling she already knew the answer.


    "Healing magic is inspiring the elements within the world to restore the body," said Aunt Pan. "Taking the power inherent to yourself and others and bringing it into play. A miracle is when a force outside the normal order intervenes to perform a wondrous deed.


    "The former is business as usual for some people. The latter is never routine."


    "So how did I perform it?" asked Relma.


    "Another, greater force worked through you," said Aunt Pan. "Quite frankly, I''m very well pleased with how things turned out.


    "The Tournament of Kings is a beginning of sorts. And in my experience, the beginning of things almost always foreshadows the end. A reign that begins in blood will end with blood. However, a reign that has its source saving lives will end far better."


    "And how did this beginning rank?" asked Relma.


    "Well, as far as I can tell, it sets some very hopeful trends," said Aunt Pan. "It shows that you willingly take on the punishments of the unworthy of saving them. It demonstrates that your focus will be on saving others. This foreshadows the healing of old wounds, as opposed to the dealing of death.


    "All hopeful signs. For a holy man. I''m not sure it will translate well into a King."


    "I will be King, and I''ll end the hatred between the nobles," said Relma. "I''ll establish friendship where before there was hatred. I''ll make peace with all my neighbors and help people. And I''ll only fight to defend, never to attack."


    "All admirable desires, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "But I don''t think you''ll manage it. Power ruins everyone who gets it. Some more than others. But no one remains wholly good when they have it."


    Relma shook her head. "I will show you, Aunt Pan." And she stood up and began to get dressed at once. "Where are William and Estela?"


    Pan put down her knitting. "When last I heard, William has been tending to the sick and injured and playing the harp for that beast when he is not. He seems quite intent on overshadowing you."


    "And Estela?" asked Relma.


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    "Training with Ajax in one of the courtyards at the moment," said Aunt Pan. "She''s been helping him with the sword."


    "Have they reconciled?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan shook her head. Relma finished getting dressed and walked to the door. "I''m going to go see them."


    Relma found Ajax and Estela in the training yard. Both were wielding swords, and Estela seemed to be instructing him. She was probably doing a lot better job of it than Relma had. "Two, three, four, good. You''re getting better. Relma really didn''t do an excellent job of teaching you."


    "Not very surprising," said Ajax. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, that''s some thank you, Ajax," said Relma coming forward.


    Ajax looked up and smiled. "Relma, you''re awake. Are you alright?"


    "I''m fine; I just have a headache," said Relma, rubbing her head. "Estela, I need to talk to you about William."


    "What about him?" asked Estela, sheathing her sword. "He''s spent the past few days healing every sick and injured person he can find. People called him one of your disciples, and he flatly denied it."


    "Well, that''s to be expected. William wants to be a messiah himself," said Relma.


    Estela looked at her oddly. "What do you mean?"


    "He feels obligated to seek glory and power for his house," said Relma. "He feels obligated to help others as a Paladin of Elranor. Becoming a messiah who brings salvation to the people is the perfect way to do that."


    "Nothing he said gave me that impression," said Estela.


    "Of course not; he hasn''t fully realized it himself," said Relma. "He thinks he is just putting on appearances to increase the glory of his house. But the appearance you put on often becomes true in your own mind."


    "You seem different," said Estela.


    Relma was a bit too certain in what she was saying. "Maybe I am.


    "At any rate, Estela, I need you to reconcile with William. If House Vortegex and House Gabriel are at each other''s throats, it could cause many problems."


    "He broke my sword and my shield," said Estela. "I''m going to have to have it reforged."


    "And he nearly killed me," said Ajax. "He did kill me."


    "But he only did it because of the underhanded way you won, Estela," said Relma. "And Ajax, going into a tournament where people use real weapons with no armor, was not a good idea. You could have just as easily killed him in that melee.


    "Fayn nearly killed Reginald, and that was deliberate. No one is complaining about that."


    "Garrick did," noted Estela.


    "I go into battle with no armor," said Ajax, apparently uninterested in Fayn.


    "Yes, but in battle, you are allowed to cheat," said Relma. "You can ambush and trick. Here the expectation is fair play."


    "I told you I needed the money," said Estela.


    "And you have it," said Relma. "It can''t hurt to reconcile with an enemy and part in friendship. Or at least not parting in bitter hatred."


    "Since when do you have authority over me?" asked Estela with an edge in her tone.


    "I''m not commanding you to do anything," said Relma. "I''m merely telling you that William is a bad person to have as an enemy. And you two really should be friends. But, unfortunately, you''re far more alike than either of you want to admit."


    Estela remained silent for a long moment. "...Alright, I''ll find him and apologize before he goes."


    Ajax sniffed. "What happened to you? Your scent is different."


    "I don''t know," admitted Relma. "I feel as though who I usually am is the surface of what I am. When I brought you back, I think more of myself emerged. It''s sort of fading away now.


    "What was it like, being dead?" Somehow, Relma thought she already knew.


    "Strange," said Ajax. "I felt I was between several worlds. An eternal wildland on the one side and a great palace on the other. And then, dimly, I saw a soothing light.


    "Then I was drawn back by the threads of a spider. It was furious, I could tell. I could see its children scuttling around me, weaving new threads. But they weren''t the same as the old ones."


    "Do you know what happened to the scarf that William used?" asked Relma.


    "He gave it back to the Baroness," said Estela. "And thanked her quite politely. Then he split the loot, just like had been planned."


    "And Garrick?" asked Relma.


    "He left after the tournament," said Estela. "He tried to challenge Fayn to a duel of honor. But Benarus dismissed the cause as frivolous.


    "See, Garrick wasn''t the one who was betrayed. Saphra was. And she apparently found it hilarious."


    "Her cousin was nearly burned to death!" said Relma. What was wrong with Saphra? What, was she a demon in human form? That actually seemed more likely than she would like to admit. She was from a family of vampires.


    "Yes, she found it funny," said Ajax.


    "I think she found it funny that people think she should care," said Estela.


    There was silence between them for a moment. Something occurred to Relma. "...Can I ask you something, Ajax?"


    "Of course," said Ajax.


    "Why did your father agree to shelter Ronald in the first place?" asked Relma. She suspected she knew the answer.


    "...I may have asked him to do it on your behalf," said Ajax.


    "Thank you, Ajax," said Relma.


    "It''s not a problem," said Ajax.


    And then Ronald rushed into the training yard. He was wearing ordinary clothes rather than armor. But he hugged her. "Relma!"


    "What is it?" said Relma.


    "Sir Frederick says he plans to head to Escor as soon as he is well," said Ronald. "He means to take me with him. We''re to represent Gel Carn in the coming wars."


    "Oh, that''s good," said Relma.


    "But it gets better. Sir Varsus and Reginald have also agreed to come," said Ronald. "They mean to take their personal forces to aid House Vortegex. They don''t want the Dragon Empire to expand either."


    "Well then, it looks like I''ll be alone for a while," said Relma.


    At that moment, William entered the training fields. He was clad in his armor, but his helm was held under one arm. His hair had fallen around his shoulders. With him were Massacre and Felix. He approached in swift strides and bowed slightly.


    "Lady Relma," he said.


    "William?" asked Relma. "What are you doing here?"


    "I heard you had awoken," said William. "I came to say goodbye. Felix and I will be leaving tomorrow morning. I''ve healed most of the people in this area; I plan to start working on the other areas on my way back."


    "That''s good to know. I''m sure the people appreciate your efforts," said Relma.


    "It is my responsibility to aid my House''s reputation," said William.


    Estela stepped forward. "Sir Gabriel?"


    "Yes?" said William.


    Their gaze met. Finally, Estela spoke. "...I wish to apologize for my underhanded methods in our battle. And I would take back my words in the tent."


    "As would I," said William, too quickly to be genuine. "Ajax, are you well?"


    "Better than ever," said Ajax. "I mean, we both know I won that match. Lucky for you, I don''t care about money or pride. Putting on a good show is enough for me."


    "Perhaps," said William. "It was a good match against both of you. But, Lady Estela, I would offer you this." He motioned to Felix, who brought forward a small chest.


    Estela took it. "What is it?"


    "Compensation for the armor and weapons I destroyed," said William. "I fear I sometimes don''t know my own strength."


    "Thank you," said Estela.


    William bowed slightly, then turned away, his cloak flying around him. "Come, Felix. We have plans to make."


    And he was gone.


    "See?" said Relma. "Wasn''t that better than eternal hatred?"


    "Yes, you''ve made your point," said Estela. "Listen, Relma, how would you feel about becoming my squire? It''ll give you a good reason to go with me to Escor. You could get some more experience there."


    "Of course," said Relma.


    Estela looked annoyed. "...You realize this is a great honor, don''t you?"


    "Right, of course," said Relma, bowing her head. "I''m deeply honored, Princess Estela, that you would-"


    "Forget it," said Estela before looking away. "It''s strange. It''s only been a few days. But it seems like everything had already changed."


    "Everything shifts, Estela. Let''s just hope we''re shifting in the right direction," said Relma.

 Epilogue: True Faces

    And all the while, fires burned eternally and without a source.


    Lucius reflected that his illegitimate children ought to become a bit more reflective. Even destructive impulses could be channeled through meditation. And nightmarish hellscapes could be overdone. Though their enthusiasm was to be appreciated. Yes, satyrs were not what civilized folk could call pleasant, but there was a lot of heart there.


    Far more than can be said for those insufferable elves. Their most recent stunt in Antion was a testament to it. He''d had to channel many satyrs to that location to disrupt things enough to salvage events. Even so, they''d managed to gain ground, though at least their corruption was revealed.


    Eventually, he found the best of them, where he usually did.


    Melchious looked out over the pools of boiling blood, a satisfied expression on his face. He had taken his human form at the moment, but it was twisted to hurt the eyes of any mortal who looked upon it. He''d always preferred being human once he''d reascended after his reincarnation. Very beautiful and fair with an edge of danger.


    Personally, Lucius had always thought this dreadfully tacky. Indeed, the bared and chiseled abs were overdone.


    For his part, Lucius had spent ages as a cloaked figure with a void under his hood. It was both unsettling and convenient. And it lacked nausea that came with the form of a living corpse. But Melchious was young and liked appearing very fine.


    Who was he trying to impress? He did have a tendency to work with beautiful female demonesses. But Melchious had never been one for romance. His passions were wholly confined to his work.


    Even in mortal form, he''d been almost a religious zealot.


    Lucius waited to be recognized, and Melchious knew he was there. Finally, Melchous turned to him. The young demon lord looked up at him, throwing his crimson cloak to one side. "Ah, Lucius. I was wondering when you would appear."


    "You wonder in vain," said Lucius. "I appear when I wish, and none to date have been able to change that." He paused. "You seem to have set things in motion, haven''t you, Melchious?"


    Melchious smiled, turning to him, his golden hair glinting in the light like metal. "I have. That is what I do."


    "Are you sure this one will play their part?" asked Lucius, more out of curiosity than a desire to know. Of course, Melchious wasn''t sure, but he would pretend he was.


    "They may, or they may not," said Melchious. "They''ll do so in their own way, and I will adapt my plans accordingly." Interesting? Had he learned something from that fiasco with the Mirror of Laevian? Perhaps he was more than hopeless.


    "And what of your errant anchor in the mortal world," said Lucius.


    "On the surface, his actions are bad," said Melchious. "But with proper application, good can be made out of it. Unfortunately, the elves have been overstepping themselves of late. And House Gabriel has many enemies.


    "What of you, Lucius? Still scheming and plotting the ruination of entire worlds?"


    "Hardly," scoffed Lucius. "I merely intend to separate the chaff from the wheat."


    "What a fine way to justify genocide," said Melchious with a smile.


    Lucius laughed at the audacity. "You would presume to lecture me on morality?" It was a meaningless concept, but you had to believe in it to lecture on it.


    "I am Melchious, Lord of Torment," said Melchious, throwing aside his cloak. It was a faux dramatic gesture that did not become him. "I laid low the elven realms of old and cast down entire civilizations. All who oppose me are destroyed, and those who hide from my sight do so in vain. Fire itself worships my name.


    "I am cruelty incarnate.


    "So I do not need to explain why I want to cause misery and suffering. It''s my favorite hobby.


    "At the very least, you pretend to be something more than a mad dog. So I may take you to task for what is, for all intents and purposes, meaningless carnage."


    Lucius had always liked Melchious, even if he didn''t agree with him on everything. He was one of the old-style demons. One for whom evil and death caused in themselves. As long as his actions led to mass destruction and misery, they were not a total loss. While not a demonic archon by birth, Melchious took after Diabolus of old more than his children. Amysta had always been a close second, trying to gain Diabolus'' favor.


    That had been a waste of time. But despite Lucius'' efforts, she''d been the only one to stay loyal. Then Lucius realized he''d drifted into his own thoughts again. Melchious was waiting for an answer, tapping his foot. "You misjudge me, Melchious. I am not much more than a bored member of the gentry. Only my holdings are in the unending tides of the damned. As for my justification, I mildly dislike my enemies. And I would much rather live in a world where they don''t exist.


    "I don''t expect to truly succeed. But when one is an immortal avatar of the Withering, it pays to have a hobby."


    "A hobby?" laughed Melchious. "I''m a bloodthirsty God of Torturers, and even I find that chilling. I destroy because I enjoy destroying and love to inflict pain and have it imposed upon me. It gives me the thrills to make others suffer.


    "But, you don''t enjoy the destruction."


    Lucius flowed past him, moving aside his cloak to reveal the void beneath. "We are two farmers, Melchious. You enjoy the act of farming itself, of exerting your will to sow the seeds of destruction. I hold no joy in that. But I do enjoy the sight of a field well plowed." Best to get to the point. "In any case, Relma Artorious is well on her way to becoming King. It is still being determined, but nothing ever is.


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    "What is your plan if that happens?"


    "Do I need one?" asked Melchious, sounding defensive and uninterested. "That''s the affair of the Dark Dreamer, my greater self. It''s House Gabriel I''m worried about. Do you have any idea how many raishans he destroyed in Khasmir? My kennels are practically empty. I have to expend much of my power breeding new ones."


    Ah yes. Khasmir had been a severe defeat for Melchious. The boy had been hoping to kill at least twice as many people as he had. Still, did he regard the Dark Dreamer as a separate entity? That could not be healthy. "My young friend, you really much learn to be less of an optimist. The Gods are least of equal strength to us and always try to thwart us. After all that has happened, I hope you''d learned to anticipate counter plans."


    "I did," said Melchious. "I had the Axe of Fortenex in my hand. I would have won the war if William hadn''t had the Goldenwood Harp. It should have remained lost forever where I stowed it.


    "It would have if Arraxia hadn''t...


    "Nevermind. My student''s actions were... unexpected."


    "Of course, all that is true," said Lucius. "But you must learn to have fail-safes in place for these things. How are you going to deal with... I believe she is called Arraxia by the mortals? Or does she go by the name of Saphra now? I''m afraid I missed how she managed to be in two places simultaneously."


    "Either will do," said Melchious. "Saphra is an avatar of her will incarnated into a mortal body as part of a pact with the De Chevlons made long ago. That was why I had her imbue her spirit into Baltoth''s Retribution in the first place.


    "She was able to put herself into the infant in place of a soul."


    "What exactly was your plan?" asked Lucius.


    "Put Saphra into a position of power and let her destroy herself," said Melchious. "Outliving subordinates is usually a matter of giving them rope to hang themselves.


    "Being a demon has nothing to do with victory; we wouldn''t enjoy success if we had it. Victory is staying in the game. Dozens of masterful young demon lords have risen to power under me. Many of them have gotten one or two things over on me.


    "Then they make themselves the primary threat and are destroyed.


    "Once that happens, I return and pretend I planned everything. And since that was my strategy, I did. Meanwhile, my erstwhile subordinate has done immense damage to my enemies. I claim that I foresaw they would do that. So I get all the credit and benefits while they get the place in history they wanted."


    "So why do you hate House Gabriel?" asked Lucius.


    "Because Vanion is going to get away with it," snapped Melchious. "He''s not stupid enough to fall into the usual traps. And given William''s rapport with Arraxia, I suspect I know what his next move will be.


    "He''ll want to secure Seathorius, and what better way to do it than make a deal with Arraxia."


    "Are you sure of this?" asked Lucius.


    "Yes," said Melchious. "I''ve seen it starting even now on the roads of Antion.


    "Vanion will want to end the feud between Arraxia and William. It will be for both pragmatic and personal reasons. Likely he''ll do it by giving her a formal invitation to Artarq. Then convince her to open up Savior''s Run for trade with a speech about mutual benefits that feeds her ego.


    "She''ll be able to charge tolls, of course, and it will make her an asset to Antion.


    "The nobles of Antion will be able to become rich in such trade, so they won''t make a fuss. Only if they are among those bankrupted by it. King Andoa will speak about redemption and understanding like he usually does. Vanion will become richer and more acclaimed, and Arraxia will become a partner."


    "Thus establishing a stable system," said Lucius.


    "Yes," said Melchious. "And as long as Arraxia can believe she is in control, that system will continue. It could lead to my hold over the satyrs being weakened.


    "I''m looking into countermeasures as we speak, however. I have trained many great demons; I''m certain some of them would jump at the chance to own Seathorius." S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What makes you so certain?" asked Lucius.


    "It''s what I would do," admitted Melchious. "So, the matter bears some consideration."


    "Much as young Relma Artorious bears consideration," said Lucius, voice warning. "You underestimate her."


    "There are two possibilities," said Melchious. "Either she''ll remain as she is and become a puppet or fall within the week. If she develops enough to make her ideology work, her children will ruin everything in her place.


    "In truth, I''m utterly indifferent to Relma as a person. The Dark Dreamer wishes her to gain her rightful inheritance, of course. But, for my part, I can''t lose. If she succeeds, I''ll have forced Arengeth''s plans into the light too early. If she fails, then the only possible replacements are Calishans.


    "That will discredit the prophecy and through it, Elranor."


    "You do realize William might qualify as one of Anoa''s bloodline, don''t you?" asked Lucius.


    "Why do you think I created him?" asked Melchious. "The idea was to create an alternative bloodline that could not be controlled. As long as William exists, he could fit the wording.


    "I don''t want Tuor to succeed in his plans. Baltoth will have us both butchered like cattle if he ever wins."


    "I see," said Lucius, "so, your hope is that say, Tuor will kill Baltoth in some scheme. Then William will create Harlenor Reunited. Then you can arrange for his heritage to be well-known. That will discredit both the prophecy and Elranor, by extension.


    "And it will remove Baltoth from the equation.


    "What if Relma succeeds?"


    "Then she''ll have to come into direct conflict with the rest of the lords," said Melchious. "The kind of mass conquest she hopes for isn''t possible peacefully. That''s why Aren and Pandora play the long game. At the very least, it''s far more likely to go bad than if their plans had been unhampered."


    "What if you succeed in destroying House Gabriel?" asked Lucius. "Your alternative bloodline will die."


    "...I don''t know, I''m finally making this up as I go!" admitted Melchious.


    Lucius was pleased that he could admit as much. "It is a good plan. However, you are too confident in the impossibility of certain events, young Melchious. But I have found that fate has a certain... affection for naive imbeciles.


    "Provided they remain pure, they stumble through complex machinations and end up the victor. It''s quite irritating, really."


    "I trained the Goddess of Fate, Lucius," irritated Melchious. "Rioletta learned everything she knows from me. And I can tell you that her affections generally involve her draining blood.


    "Why do you think I drew her attention to William? If she takes him out of the picture and keeps him prisoner, I can arrange his release after destroying his house. Then he can inadvertently set a chain of events that leads to Harlenor Reunited."


    "Of course," said Lucius, impressed that Melchious had devised the plan so quickly. "But young Rioletta is a reincarnation of the original Goddess. And a god''s domain exists independent of the deity.


    "And the threads of fate are very kind to heroes."


    Melchious looked him in the eye, and Lucius saw a hint of that unstoppable fury of old. He was suddenly reminded that he was looking at the embers of a greater inferno. One that once consumed the world. "Say that to Anoa. I dare you."


    Melchious sounded genuinely angry, and there was a hint of his first self there. Lucius took his point and floated back about ten feet. Now he was remembering just why the Dark Dreamer terrified everyone. "Well, I grant there are a few similarities between Anoa the Bright and Relma. Though where they end up may be very different places.


    "On a separate note, we''ve gotten back word from Tuor. He''s pledged his support in the other plan," Melchious glared at him. Could Lucius lighten the mood? "Perhaps the two of them could compare doomed hometowns once I''m done?"


    Melchious roared with laughter. Lucius soon joined him, and all the armies of this hell fled.

 The Wages of Sin

    Okay, so Tournament of Kings is now done.


    With that in mind, we now move back to the far east to see how Abdul Sahshir and his people have been doing. In the next installment, we''ll advance Sahshir''s rivalry with Garacel. We will also give more details on the nation of Dinis and how Calisha has reacted to recent events. S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    But the main action will take place within the Islands of Power. They lie between the great seafaring nations of that area. And they are often a place of struggle.


    I hope you''ve enjoyed the story so far. And I hope you enjoy the next one even more.


    It will be called;


    The Wages of Sin.

 Prologue: The Merchant of Sugar

    Garrick Estov always acted in the best interests of his employer. So he thought as he walked through halls of red carpets and tapestries. Only the richest for the richest halfling in Sorn, Cirithil Magnious. A man of surpassing affability, popular among friends and enemies alike. He always provided a good table and reasonable rates for his employees. At the same time, those who became superfluous were given new work.


    He had many sheep farms and rented oxen out to villagers all over. His funding of trade fleets rivaled all the others put together. All save his enemy, Sen Kaba, who dwelled in a lonely, clean, and cheap hall. Kaba, Garrick knew, trained with a sword and knew the art of war. And he might have served more often had not Garrick''s chief lieutenant hated him beyond words.


    That lieutenant, Finn, was too valuable to part company with. His order, the Knights of the Coin, needed more money and finance to do otherwise.


    Ethics, morality, honor, and justice were contracts made differently. The Knights of the Coin knew that, which was why he was here. This marble and velvet palace belongs not to a Lord but to a merchant. He preferred the halls of merchants to the ancient fortress of Gel Carn. The red velvet and paintings of various dignified ancestors were a refreshing change. There was Cirithil Magnious. A splendid halfling who founded the house was a shrewd manager of farmland. Yusuf Kaba was a great soldier and a dear friend of Cirithil''s.


    Both were long dead, but the memory remained. Carath liked the past and kept many records of it.


    People in this place understood the value of money.


    Walking unseen by a guard or servant into the living room, he saw Finn. The huge, bald man looked out of place within the cozy living room with its books and globes. His usual brown vest had been traded for the white tunic, simple and cheap but looking reasonable. Servant garb that could not hide his muscular frame or his knives. Standing over by the fireplace, he was a marked contrast to the other room resident.


    That resident was a halfling of about fifty in a red doublet with baggy pants and a scarf around his neck. It was a relic of when he''d nearly been knifed in a temple during the prayers. Garrick had cut off quite a few heads that day. Most priests were priests, but among the dead was Carath''s younger brother, Ablar. Carath had long suspected House Suvvest for the deed but had largely avenged himself by now. He did not use violence in the city when he could avoid it.


    He had curly white hair and bright red cheeks. He had a pipe between his lips and read one of his favorite books. It was a biography of the Fish King, the Lord of the Sea of Power. Or so Garrick guessed by the thickness of the pages and long experience. I am an avid reader.


    A man to be admired.


    Eventually, the halfing shut the book and looked up. "Ah, Finn. Excellent to see you, as always. How have things progressed?"


    "Better than we could have hoped for, Carath," said Finn. "The Empire of Dinis recently conducted a campaign against a rebellion in Zigilus. While it was successful, the fighting messed up whole legions. Better still, Typhos has returned. As a result, chaos manifests throughout Dinis.


    "Monsters are returning and ravaging the countryside.


    "The way I see it, Dinis isn''t able to repel any invasion. And they''re out of the game with the Babarassians in the east getting thrashed by Haldren. We''ve got an open shot."


    "Excellent! Truly excellent!" said Carath, standing up and setting down his book. "I''ve been hoping for one of them to deal the other a bloody nose for some time. So now we proper businessmen can finally get new markets."


    "So you want to invade the ports? Or just raze the competition?" asked Finn. Finn usually suggested violence for the simple reason that he was good at it. No one called him up for peaceful pursuits.


    "Neither," said Garrick, knowing something of the plan. He emerged from the shadows, and Finn sighed.


    "Garrick, I wasn''t aware you were back," said Finn, rubbing his goatee. "How''d the tournament go?"


    "Poorly," said Garrick, sitting in the third chair. "The only good news is that Antion has stabilized. But, I should warn you, House Magnious'' military strength is too weak to confront Dinis. A prolonged conflict between us would see Calisha as the winner."


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    "That much I know," said Carath.


    "So what''s the plan?" said Finn.


    Carath drew a scroll from one pocket and set it on one of his mahogany tables. Then, rolling it out, he revealed a map showing Sorn and Antion''s coast above it to the north. Then, there was Qor''Danas and Calisha, whose coast stretched from Dren to Kalthak. "We have a map of the sea of power here. Our colonies are in the southern islands. Meanwhile, Calisha has several in the eastern reaches. Last, Dinis has several islands that produce a great deal of sugar.


    "They are the primary competitors with House Kaba."


    "So you mean to take it from Dinis?" guessed Finn.


    "Exactly," said Carath. "The fleet is already ready."


    "What about Safara?" asked Finn. "I''ve heard Calisha is installing a new religion in Dinis. If they do that-"


    "That is a gradual process," said Carath. "The Emperor will never ask for help from Calisha. Not unless all other hope seems lost.


    "No, my young friend, we must do this slowly and steadily.


    "Snap off a few islands from Dinis to get our foot in the door of the sugar business. Then, once we''ve done that, we can work our way out."


    "What of the Council of Merchants?" asked Finn. "They may protest."


    "Oh, the Kabas have made plenty of rackets about the horrors of war," said Carath. "But everyone else is all for breaking her monopoly. And if it brings riches to Sorn, so much the better."


    "This reminds me, are we sure we want to enter the sugar market?" asked Garrick, voicing a longstanding problem. "Duke Vanion has been cutting into Kaba''s profits a great deal."


    "He''s been cutting into everyone''s profits," said Carath. "All those gangs wiped out. The criminal organizations that disrupted made many bribes for naught. So we''re having difficulty finding replacements for them.


    "Bribery is difficult."


    "A few letters couldn''t make that much of a difference," scoffed Finn.


    "I''m afraid they can," said Garrick. "Vanion researched what House Kaba was doing. He wrote letters to all his friends describing it and asking them not to buy sugar. They wrote their friends and the word spread.


    "It took a noticeable chunk out of his profits."


    "Then why are we getting into a market that''s not growing?" asked Finn.


    "I''m not ''getting into'' a market," said Carath. "I''m creating a new one. Kaba sells sugar. I am going to sell ''humane'' sugar." S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Meaning?" asked Garrick.


    "We''ll spend a bit more money than he does on worker safety," said Carath. "We''ll have priests on standby to heal the wounded. A few minor extra expenses."


    "But then our prices will be higher than Kaba''s," noted Garrick,


    "True," said Carath. "But then we will spread the word of how much better we treat them. We''ll write about how we plan to civilize the satyrs we work there. How our efforts are for their benefit as much as ours. We can introduce some missionaries to preach to them.


    "Of course, in practice, we''ll only extend their misery by a few weeks. But people will make a cause of buying from us. They''ll be able to turn up their noses at others. They can say, ''I buy humane sugar'' or something to that effect. Many people who swore off the stuff will be lured back to us and view the problem as solved.


    "And since our sugar will have a smaller supply since we only have one island, we can charge far more for it than Kaba."


    "You don''t think Antion won''t notice what is going on, do you?" asked Finn.


    "He is right," said Garrick. "Vanion will send more people to investigate and publish the truth. The printing press that was recently created in Antion is a powerful tool.


    "It''s already clothed his house in glory."


    Carath smiled at Garrick. "Never underestimate what the upper class will pay to feel smug.


    "None of them care about what happens to those under them. But they also want to feel lordly and wise. Like they are somehow better than the people, they crush underfoot, as a matter of course.


    "So they pick some arbitrary cause, whether sugar or chivalry, and devote themselves to it. But, of course, they don''t want to change; that requires them to improve their behavior. So whatever cause they pick up revolves around pointing out other people''s flaws. That way, they can demand change from the people they oppress instead.


    "No one who fights a charitable cause believes in it. They do it to appease their ego. That, and to deceive the masses into believing they are something more than parasites."


    "So what does that make you?" asked Finn.


    "My dear Finn, I make no pretensions to righteousness," said Carath. "I simply wish to make a great deal of money, gain a good reputation, and die content in a bed surrounded by children." Bothering about all these false causes is just a waste of everyone''s time and money. The world would be far better if everyone were more honest and practical about things."


    "Define better?" asked Finn.


    Carath paused. "...Well, I wouldn''t have to attend nearly as many parties."


    Finn laughed uproariously. Garrick thought this in poor taste.

 Chapter One: Rising Action

    Until some months ago, Abdul Sahshir had never expected to sit on his father''s throne. Uncomfortable and wooden though it was, it was a very satisfying experience. Wood was expensive in Kalthak, and felling trees was only permitted with authorization from local officials. Of course, foreign visitors often sneered at the throne, but Sahshir cared little.


    Having lost two fingers in the battle of Zigilus to get it, it felt very anticlimactic now to rest here. Though it pained his plagued skin less than most.


    Even so, it was written that the wise ruler thought not of crowns or thrones. Only the business of the day.


    That was why the merchant kneeling before him was influential. The newly founded Silent Guard standing on either side. Sahshir kept a hand on the Sword of Order, clenching it tightly to dull the pain. "Ashreth, the Merchant?"


    "King Sahshir," said Ashreth.


    "Some months ago, you sustained an injury by one of Regent Asim''s men," said Sahshir. "I offer now this in compensation. Unfortunately, I am also told a table of yours was broken afterward, and some of your wares destroyed."


    "Yes, you had a man ask about it," said Ashreth, looking up. "I am honored that you remembered."


    "I have compensation for you," said Sahshir. "However, I fear you were too conservative in your estimates. There is more than you asked for." He motioned, and the servant brought forth gold to set down.


    Ashreth took it and looked up. "Thank you. May I speak freely, my King?"


    "You may," said Sahshir. It was written that the fool closed his ears to criticism.


    "In place of compensation, I''d rather see the men who have been terrorizing us hang," said Ashreth.


    "As would I," said Sahshir. "But I need Asim''s support. If I hang his men, he may turn against me. So I cannot kill them.


    "I am not yet strong enough to do more."


    "It isn''t right that those men can just walk off," said Ashreth.


    "No," said Sahshir. "On the Day of Perfect Order, they will pay their due. Unfortunately, that day is not here. So we must wait."


    "I understand," said Ashreth. "My thanks to you for this. I will remember it." He bowed and turned to leave.


    Sahshir glanced at his right hand. His hand slipped from the sword as he did, and the pain returned. Ignoring it, Sahshir motioned to the beautiful man kneeling at his right. "There goes a man of order. Make a note of it, Sushaki," Sushaki nodded and began to write. Sahshir looked back to Nayasha at the door, a knife at her side, a hood covering most of her face. "Bring in the next one."


    The door was opened, and another man entered, clad in a similar turban and coat. He was fatter than the last, with a long beard, and the sword he laid at Sahshir''s feet was gilded. "King Sahshir, I am pleased to see you already proving yourself a better ruler than those who came before. The city resounds with tales of your generosity."


    "Perhaps," said Sahshir, clutching the sword again. "There were some irregularities with the numbers you gave me."


    "What?" said the man, looking up with a pale expression.


    "I asked you to compile a list of damages sustained by those Asim hurt," said Sahshir. "Most of those were among the merchant class. Then, when I returned, I asked the same question of many other merchants. All had different estimates of who suffered what.


    "However, they all had far lower numbers on the damages you suffered.


    "Do you know the penalty for such actions in the heartlands of Calisha?"


    "King Sahshir," said the man. "I beg-" S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sahshir raised a hand. "Enough.


    "I am certain this was a mere miscalculation on your part. I found many miscalculations when I spoke with the merchants. So I will do as I did for them. Take all the various merchants'' estimates and compare them to the account given by Asim''s men. Then give a rough estimate of my own."


    He motioned to the servant, who brought forth the compensation. The man shuddered and bowed. "Thank you, my king. I apologize for the mistake.


    "I''ve been under a great deal of strain lately. I must have miscalculated with Garacel''s attack and all the recent battles."


    "I am aware," said Sahshir. "I''m certain you won''t make the same mistake twice."


    "Of course not." said the man.


    "Tell me of the Sornian businesses that have opened up in our coastal villages?" said Sahshir.


    "Mere coastal relay points for supplies," said the man. "The go-between, Lilas, is a Harlenorian. So he is neutral."


    "Not necessarily," said Sahshir. "He might be seeking to advance his own personal power.


    "Coordinate with your fellow merchants and buy those areas out. If you need forces, coordinate with Sushaki. He is my right hand in matters of finance. No foreigners are to ever control our ports nor keep observers there."


    "I understand," said the man. "Is this a mandate?"


    "Sushaki is in command or no one," said Sahshir. Such business would have little glory, but Sushaki was the best man for the job. He understood such things.


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    "I understand," said the man.


    "Leave us," said Sahshir.


    The man departed, walking through the great doors to the hall. The guards nodded and shut them with a clang. Now there as only the dim light from the hall-raised shutters.


    "...Slime," said Sushaki under his breath. "Why are you spending all this money?"


    "They are owed compensation," said Sahshir. "And the money was drawn from warriors I fined. And the goodwill gained may do much to ensure our power."


    "Merchants are loyal only to the money in their pockets," said Sushaki.


    "And to add more, they must have a stable government," said Sahshir. "Your father disregarded the power of money. It can be used to equip armies or hire them. The economy is the lifeblood of war."


    "Talk like that is exactly why Father tried to kill you in the first place," noted Sushaki.


    "He deemed me a leprous, bookish weakling," said Sahshir. "Now, he knows better.


    "Tell me of Lilas?"


    "A polite, if weak merchant," said Sushaki. "He has an understanding of mercantile like nothing I have seen. But he is no warrior. On the contrary, he defers to every official he meets without question."


    "Merchants took power in Sorn," said Sahshir. "They could take power here.


    "Remember to underestimate them. This Lilas might be harmless, or he might not be. Or he might be a go-between for powers we do not understand."


    "Why are you even going to the trouble of all this?" asked Sushaki suddenly. "You know as well as I do that you''ll be king for a few years. Father didn''t just yield to you out of respect; he did it because he knew he was next in line. And he knew that your affliction-"


    Sahshir brought around his sword to put it to Sushaki''s throat before he could finish. Sushaki flinched long after his head had been removed from his shoulders. "...Go on."


    Sushaki sighed. "-even if you do all these reforms, Father is just going to tear them up. You know what he thought of Narcissa."


    "Asim might be convinced to keep some of them if you had a spine," noted Sahshir before sheathing his blade.


    "Father doesn''t listen to anything I say," said Sushaki.


    "Then make him listen, you vicious little-" began Sahshir, feeling fury.


    Nayasha surged forward between them. "Calm yourself, King Sahshir. It would ill befit either of you to kill the other so soon after a coronation."


    "Nayasha," said Sahshir. "I believe you had some other matter you wanted to discuss."


    "I have received news from your father-" began Nayasha.


    "My father is dead," said Sahshir. "Tuor merely inhabits his body." So Tuor willingly abandoned Sahshir when Aresh never would have. So Aresh was dead; it was a simple fact.


    Nayasha sighed. "I come bearing news from Tuor and my agents in the Islands of Power. We have reason to believe that Sorn will strike against Dinis."


    "I hardly see how any of that is our concern," said Sushaki.


    "It is written," said Sahshir. "Where there is war, there is an opportunity."


    "For loss," said Sushaki. "Our fleet has never recovered from our last war with Sorn. We''ve only just begun to reconstruct it. And it has cost us a fortune in lumber from Neseriah''s realm. We don''t have the trees for it here."


    "Armies are like muscles," said Nayasha. "If not used, they atrophy."


    "What exactly are you proposing, Nayasha?" asked Sahshir.


    "I believe that you should intervene," said Nayasha. "As does Tuor, for that matter."


    "...Give me the details," said Sahshir.


    Nayasha drew out a map from one scroll and unrolled it before them. Sahshir paid keen attention.


    "The fleets of Sorn are here, roughly," said Nayasha. "They are heading toward these islands. Macshore and Chaminus."


    "Chaminus is the last remnants of Old Namina, is it not?" asked Sahshir.


    "We are the heirs of Namina," said Sushaki firmly.


    "We assimilated aspects of Namina," said Sahshir. "However, the blood runs pure on Chaminus. It is said that it is protected by a Golden Dragon of immense age and power."


    "So Sorn will head to Macshore," noted Sushaki.


    Sahshir tried to remember his lessons. He could remember the history, but the history of the name eluded him. "Macshore? What manner of name is that, anyway?"


    "It was named by explorers from the Dragon Empire. That was, they still had holdings in these islands," said Nayasha. "Dinis seized them during one of the wars.


    "That was back before they were sealed off from the rest of the world. The seals wane and grow periodically but haven''t come by in a long time."


    "If memory serves, Macshore is a site of many sugar plantations," said Sahshir. "Why would they be heading there? Sorn has many of them."


    "You forget that Sorn is not ruled by one great house but many," said Nayasha. "They often compete and squabble with one another as much as their enemies. House Magnious is financing the fleet with the approval of his fellows.


    "House Kaba are the ones who control most of the sugar market. The plantations are unpleasant, and worse still, they almost spread to Antion. The Road of Chaos incident was an unprecedented fiasco for everyone."


    "So they mean to cut into the market," surmised Sushaki thoughtfully. "Knowing Lilas, he has already bet for all possibilities. He has enough money for it."


    "Then he will lose no matter what he does," said Sahshir. "What would you advise, Sushaki."


    "Stay out of it," said Sushaki. "It is to our benefit if Dinis and Sorn fight one another. A battle between them leaves us growing stronger and they weaker."


    "But what if Sorn should win?" asked Sahshir. "They will then be able to seize other islands from Dinis. Such a victory could lead to them becoming the dominant power in the Sea of Power. But, with the Zigilus Fleet defecting to our side, we can oppose them.


    "What if they turned their eyes to our lands next? Harlenor may convince them to open a second front on Calisha. It could become a new Estal."


    "...A fair point," said Sushaki, considering things. "Even so, limited involvement seems wise. We are presently neutral with Dinis. However, we might dispatch a messenger to the Emperor and offer our support in the coming battle."


    "Who should command the fleet?" asked Nayasha.


    "Raj Danal seems the most logical choice," said Sushaki doubtfully. "He has a history of daring naval expeditions."


    "Very well," said Sahshir. "I will inform him personally. But, Sushaki, you will be in charge in my absence. You are the only one I would trust with the task." He didn''t expect Sushaki to be loyal to him per se. Merely that he wouldn''t undo months of progress because he didn''t like the people he benefited. "Make sure all foreign businesses are bought out or destroyed by the time I return.


    "We''re going to war with them anyway. Nayasha, I will write a message to the Emperor personally. Can one of your agents deliver it?"


    "With all the haste in the world," said Nayasha. "Though you are playing a much more aggressive game than I anticipated."


    "I don''t have time to be conservative," said Sahshir. "We should consider what we will do if the Emperor refuses us."


    "If that occurs, we will wait and see who emerges victorious," said Sahshir. "Should it be Sorn, we will attack their weakened forces and sell the island back to the Emperor."


    "You want to sell it?" asked Nayasha, blinking.


    "Do you believe we are in a position to start an occupation?" asked Sahshir.


    Nayasha shifted on her feet. "I... well, if we did seize such an island, it seems we ought to consult High King Suloth." Why was she taken off guard? This was nothing unusual for a kingdom of Calisha. "Perhaps we could give the territory to his dominions as a gift."


    Nayasha was trying to stall Sahshir into being conservative. Did she have some plan which required him to merely consolidate? Or perhaps she was afraid Kalthak would be destroyed in the war. But the latter would happen anyway if Sorn won.


    "I will consider it," said Sahshir. "Now, I must compose a letter. First, Sushaki, go to Narcissa, and request her assistance in his matter."


    "To what end?" asked Sushaki.


    "If we march to war, I expect to bring her forces with us," said Sahshir. "Nayasha, provide Sushaki any assistance he needs. Keep each other focused and on task."


    "Yes, sir," said Nayasha.


    A war would come at last.


    A good place to die, if nothing else.

 Chapter Two: Letters and Departures

    Sahshir looked at the third draft of the letter he''d finished writing. It had been irritating, waiting for his hand to stop shaking from the disease. But it was better he did it himself than have Narcissa do it for him or even a scribe. Sahshir wanted control of his documents Relying on anyone else could lose him that. Reading it up and down, he paused. The pain from his effort was bad, but as long as he focused on the letters, he could be distracted.


    To His Majesty, Emperor Octavus III of Dinis,


    I am King Sahshir II of the realm of Khasina, also known as East Kalthak. I have observed the valor of your legions in the siege of Zigilus. I am impressed by your empire and in awe of your legions. I desire to join you in your fight against the fleets of Sorn.


    Grant me this honor and a share of the spoils, and my fleets shall leave with the tide. From,


    -King Sahshir II. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sahshir offered it to Nayasha, who eyed it up and down. Sahshir was curious if he was wasting his time. Octavus had ordered Zigilus utterly annihilated before, for which Narcissa held a grudge. But Octavus'' legions were loyal to him and powerful. And there was good justification for destroying it. The place had been a sensual hellscape. Moreover, Zigildrazia herself had wanted it destroyed.


    "Very brief and to the point. Though that''s probably for the best. I shouldn''t expect a courteous answer if I were you," said Nayasha with a frown. "But why do you want to ally with the people you were fighting?"


    "Because they are fighting Sorn," said Sahshir, grasping his sword. "And Sorn is stronger."


    Nayasha nodded and turned to walk away. Then she glanced back. "Sahshir?"


    "Yes?" asked Sahshir.


    "Go outside for a bit," said Nayasha. "You''ve been dealing with matters of state nonstop for the past few weeks. So a walk may do you good.


    "You can''t win glorious victories if you''re dead on your feet."


    "Your advice is noted," said Sahshir. "So watch me."


    He waited as she departed the throne room. For a moment, he sat in the darkness of his hall, the blade over his knees. Then, finally, he set it to his belt and decided to leave. Making his way out of the hall, he walked the palace halls. The sun was bright, but he felt lightheaded as it beat down on his mask.


    Pressing on, he made his way out of the palace and turned toward the shrine of Baltoth. It had been rebuilt since the attack by Garacel and made more elaborate. The walls were of white stone, and a curved roof of red tiles was on it. On either side of the entrance were statues of two golden dragons.


    Sahshir glanced at the city and decided he didn''t want to walk all that way. His legs were burning already, and while he could move through it, he''d had enough in the practice field. So he walked to the door and knocked.


    The door opened, and Kushina looked out. She was healing well from her injuries against Garacel and held a staff in one hand. Her dark hair was tied behind her. "Sahshir, I haven''t seen you in some time. I was beginning to think you''d forgotten about us."


    "Never," said Sahshir as he entered. "How fair the shrine?" He noted several bedrolls on the floor.


    "We''ve had many people housing here," said Kushina. "However, Schzara has been taking care of the shrine in my stead mostly. I''ve been... evangelizing?" She quickly moved to the far side of the shrine and kneeled down, pouring a cup of tea for him. She offered it to Sahshir. He kneeled across from her and, glancing around for anyone else, removed his mask.


    Sipping the tea, the endless pain became less so. "Attempting to convert the Zigilus refugees?" Sahshir asked.


    "Convert?" asked Kushina. "No, I don''t hope for that. Convince them to act with a semblance of decency? Perhaps."


    "There is hostility to them, then," guessed Sahshir.


    "More than that," said Kushina. "Theirs is a depraved society. Our opposite in every way. They wear clothes that bare their bodies, even when it would make more sense to wear concealing robes. They have begun performing ritual orgies, and some among them are trying to corrupt our youth."


    "Baltoth has taken many consorts over the years, Kushina," noted Sahshir.


    "Yes, but he''s doing so forms practical purposes," said Kushina. "By having numerous descendants, he can observe events through their eyes. Moreover, it provides Calisha with an easy means to control the Empire. And there is an order in the relationship; Baltoth is in authority, and the others are his subjects.


    "What Zigilus performs is pure chaos."


    "I imagine Zigildrazia would be the one in authority," said Sahshir. "They all claim loyalty to her."


    "Are you arguing in favor of Zigildrazia?" asked Kushina.


    Sahshir considered the question. He sipped his tea again, and the pain dulled further. "No. I''m arguing against you.


    "How have your efforts to convert them gone?"


    "Not particularly well, to be honest," said Kushina. "How is the tea?"


    "Excellent, as always," said Sahshir. Her tea had a way of dulling the pain and making him feel a bit more alive. It meant he had to put less effort into moving for a while. At times, he almost felt like he was healthy again.


    "Good," said Kushina. "It''s difficult to sell a life of obedience and order over a life of willful depravity."


    "I would focus on safety," said Sahshir.


    "What do you mean ''safety?''" asked Kushina.


    "Zigilus was destroyed in the war," said Sahshir. "Convince them that their failure was because of a lack of adherence to order. Tell them that embracing the power of Baltoth may lead them to become stronger still.


    "Convince them that the path of Order will lead them to greater power than ever before."


    "I wasn''t aware you had any talent for manipulation," noted Kushina.


    "All things desire power," said Sahshir. "So Baltoth teaches us."


    "And what should we do about the men they are luring into their profane rituals?" asked Kushina.


    "Tell them if they associate with them, they''ll be crucified for heresy," said Sahshir.


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    "That is... somewhat direct, don''t you think?" mused Kushina.


    "Baltoth himself has proclaimed crucifixion the ideal form of execution," noted Sahshir. "It causes maximum suffering so that the effects will stay with the person in their next life. And it also makes a public example to all who would see."


    "Well, yes, I know," said Kushina. "I would just prefer to use other means than simple violence. Your Uncle has always been in favor of such tactics,"


    "Violence is the solution to most problems, as long as you perform it properly," said Sahshir.


    "Now you''re trying to irritate me. Be serious, Sahshir," said Kushina with a laugh.


    Sahshir smiled, the motion not hurting him. "I am unsure.


    "Perhaps you could appeal to the families of those involved to intervene."


    And then there was a knock.


    Sahshir set a hand to his sword and glanced back as Kushina went forward to check the door. Opening it ajar, she spoke with someone. Then she glanced back apologetically. "King Sahshir, Lord Asim is here to speak with you."


    "Very well, then," said Sahshir. "Let him in."


    Asim entered the room, wearing full samurai armor. Sahshir wondered why he insisted on that armor. "Abdul, I''ve heard something. Is it true you are allowing the servants of Zigildrazia to perform their profane rights?"


    "I have not given them permission of any kind, Uncle," said Sahshir flatly. "They did so without my word. We were discussing what to do about them."


    Asim halted and sighed in relief. "Well, that is something.


    "I think a night attack is best. Perhaps after a festival. Catch them when they are off-guard and-"


    "We are not slaughtering them," said Sahshir flatly. He wished people would stop resorting to genocide as a matter of course. Just because the Urishia deserved it, it didn''t make it an all-purpose solution. Octavus'' actions had been reckless in his eyes; it would have been better to seize the city and purify it.


    Then again, Sahshir hadn''t had to live with them.


    "First, you hand the city over to the merchants," scowled Asim. "And now you intend to let these heathens operate with impunity?"


    "Why do you care?" asked Sahshir flatly. "You''ve never held any love for Baltoth or his teachings."


    "I care because you are allowing these blood-drinking savages to corrupt this land!" snapped Asim.


    "They don''t drink blood," said Sahshir.


    "They might as well," said Asim incredulously. "Their goddess willingly destroyed their civilization, and they don''t care. "


    "Such devotion would be called admirable if in service to Baltoth," noted Kushina.


    "But it is not in service to Baltoth, is it?" asked Asim, looking at her with dislike. Asim had never served Baltoth save in name. His faith had always been in Rammas, the dethroned son of Baltoth who had raised rebellion long ago.


    After a bloody civil war, Rammas had long ago been sealed deep within Ruscow, never to be released. Then Asim looked back to Sahshir. "When I allowed you to ascend, I was hoping for better than this."


    "I have a solution in mind already," said Sahshir.


    Asim looked at him for a moment. "...Well, what is it?"


    "Have you heard the news of Sorn encroaching on Dinis?" asked Sahshir.


    "I have heard," admitted Asim. "I do not see how it concerns us, however. Let them fight. Both are contemptible to my eyes. The Sornians care for nothing but money, and Dinis is our enemy, or was until recently."


    "I mean to arrange an alliance with Dinis and come in on their side of the war," said Sahshir. "In exchange for payment, of course. Sorn has been buying property on the shore, and I mean to take it away from them. But, since we will have to go to war to do that, it is better to side with our weaker opponent."


    Asim remained silent a moment. "...Reasonable, but I don''t see how this solves our problem. We can''t leave the Zigildrazians at our back."


    "We will arrange for the militias of the Zigilus refugees to join us in the war," said Sahshir. "We are already gathering survivors who we missed the war. Zigilian priests march to war alongside their armies. If we bring all their remaining priests, we can engage Dinis in battle."


    "And?" asked Asim.


    "In such a confrontation, their religious elite may be wiped out," said Sahshir. But, of course, he had no intention of seeing such a thing happen deliberately. Though since it could happen, what he was saying was not a lie. "This will leave their depraved religion with no means to spread. And we may step in to fill the void.


    "We will fight against nearly impossible odds, and Zigildrazians are decadent. Therefore, they shall be hardened into warriors or killed."


    "Canon fodder?" guessed Asim with a smile.


    "If necessary," said Sahshir. "Though I hope that they realize the folly of their ways and become more like us. Many of them are formidable warriors and need only shake off the last influence on them.


    "Those who do not will die in battle."


    Asim put two fingers on the edge of his mask. "And it would let us put that fleet to good use. But who will command it?"


    "I had in mind Raj Danal," said Sahshir. He''d almost randomly picked the name when given a list by Nayasha. He''d won several skirmishes abroad and was low on the list. And he frequently took on Kalthakian soldiers.


    "Raj?" scoffed Asim. "He''s nothing more than a common pirate with no honor or regard for true war. He''s not even a Kalthakian, one of those filthy Drens. Though I have heard he is at least half Babarassian."


    Babarassians were considered the lowest form of scum by virtually all Calishans. They had abandoned Calisha when Baltoth civilized it and cast down Valranor. Now they lived as pirates in the Islands of Power and on Babarassia.


    Even the Harlenorians didn''t like them.


    "Yes," noted Sahshir. "He is also the most accomplished pirate in the world today." Raj usually plundered armed ships and never went after those who were defenseless. This meant his victories were much more impressive. No doubt others could claim the title, but he picked Raj.


    "Actually, that is arguable," said Kushina. "The Harlenorian, Argath Marn, has done similar feats and is among the most hated of our enemies. Since the two have never fought, we can''t-" Sahshir and Asim looked at her. "Nevermind."


    "The point is that he is highly experienced and presently in our employ," said Sahshir. "We cannot trust a captain of Zigilus, and we Kalthakians have no great skill at sea."


    "Well, I will not risk my armies on such a war," said Asim. "My men have no tradition of sea combat. And Dinis is on the border and could launch a surprise attack. To say nothing of West Kalthak."


    "Well, then is fortunate that I cannot afford to take you with me," said Sahshir. "Remain here and ensure that Khasina is well protected.


    "While I am gone, I ask that you refrain from punishing the merchants. They are a caste without honor. However, they are far more dangerous than you realize."


    "How so?" asked Asim.


    "Money can buy mercenaries," said Sahshir flatly.


    "No nation can survive on mercenaries," noted Asim.


    "But they can fall if they hire enough of them," replied Sahshir. "The merchants can do so, and they will if pressed."


    "Then why not purge the lot of them?" asked Asim.


    That was his solution to everything. "We need merchants. If we were to purge them, we would be unable to make war. And future merchants would be unwilling to do business in Khasina.


    "They are a necessary evil. Therefore, we must tolerate them while limiting their influence.


    "Which reminds me, Sushaki is about to begin buying up many properties. Ones that used to belong to the Sornians. Ensure the Sornians are given a good price to avoid making a martyr of them. We cannot fully overcome Sorn, and our victory relies on terms.


    "And make sure the territory ends up back in the hands of the villagers. I don''t want to throw off one group of merchants to replace them with another. So Kushina will send agents to ensure the villagers know what is happening and why."


    "To what end?" asked Kushina.


    "I don''t want to throw out the Sornians to replace them with merchants from Kalthak or Dinis," said Sahshir. "Our people must remain the masters of their own land.


    "And they must learn how to counter it."


    Asim remained silently for a long moment. "...Very well then, Sahshir. We''ll play things your way for now, but I won''t be content with this policy forever. Sooner or later, there will be a reckoning with these people."


    "Do you know who Lilas is?" asked Sahshir.


    "Sounds Harlenorian," said Asim. "Some warrior?"


    "Sushaki has a high opinion of him," said Sahshir. "I think you''d best find out which merchants serve Kalthak best, Asim. You need to know their names to counter them."


    And he turned to walk out.


    Sahshir doubted either would make it to the decade''s end, so that was all the moot point.

 Chapter Three: Raj Danal

    A few weeks later, Sahshir found Raj Danal drinking at a bar in the port city of Saladus. It sat near the south edge of Khasina, near the glistening waters of the sea of power. Seeing it from a hill had been quite relaxing to gaze on. Sahshir had taken some time to meditate on it before descending to the town of slanted roofs. You could hear the laughter and false merriment and see the smoke rising.


    In this place, all matter of depravity was allowed.


    And then, of course, there was Raj Danal.


    Drinking in the tavern of the Broken Moon. The outside appeared almost respectable. But it only made the revelation of the inside insulting. It was a seedy place filled with the smell of drink and women of loose morals. Sahshir found it disgusting to be here, and the kegs of beer were the most despicable. And Calishans were drinking of it.


    Calishans.


    Alcohol was sold in Saladus as well as many other abominations. Yet they were drinking. As if Baltoth had not forbidden the consumption of wicked beverages. Sahshir made a mental note to have all these places closed down when he had the time and influence. The site had some ancient fortifications built in the days of Namina. You could still see the symbols of the Five Heavenly Dragons on some parts of the wall, albeit faded. Others were of new construction from where the wall had been breached in a siege.


    This place had not been sacked during the Rammasian Civil War. On the contrary, it had declared neutrality and served both sides.


    More was the pity. Though Sahshir knew he should be happy to have the port, watching it burn would be far more satisfying.


    Raj Danal was an old man of perhaps sixty, with wrinkles and scars all over his face and body. Raj wore a white turban with a jewel on top of it and golden armbands over toned arms. At his side was a scimitar rather than a katana, and several other rough men were with him.


    All of them were veterans of dozens of battles. Sahshir had met the man and knew he was nobody to be trifled with. One of the few Kalthakians to fight at sea and win. "Raj Danal."


    Raj glanced at Sahshir with red eyes. "So, the Leper Prince wants to talk then?"


    "I am King of the Eastern Kingdom now," said Sahshir.


    Raj bowed dramatically as laughter came from the men. "Forgive me, Leper King."


    Sahshir reminded himself that killing everyone in this room would be wrong. So he moved over to the man who laughed, grabbed him by the throat, and tore it out with his two good fingers. The blood spewed over the table, mixing with his drink. Sahshir tossed him to the ground and crushed his skull with one foot. The ordinary patrons screamed in horror and fled out of the bar, upsetting several tables as they did.


    "...I would cut off your head, cretin, if I did not need you for the moment," said Sahshir.


    Raj laughed and clapped Sahshir on the back as several men made impressed sounds. These men were part of the blood cult of Melchious, after all. "But you still need me, I guess. So what is it you want?"


    "I want you to command the fleet," said Sahshir, tossing some coins to the bartender in compensation.


    "A fleet?" asked Raj, standing up and setting a hand to his scimitar. "Now that does sound like some fun. So who are we raiding?"


    "No one," said Sahshir. "Our action is defensive in nature. We are looking to make an alliance with Dinis against Sorn."


    "Why should we care about that?" asked Raj, speaking for himself and probably Kalthak in a very general sense.


    "If Sorn gains control of the Sea of Power, they will be free to raid us with impunity," said Sahshir. "And it will make it far more difficult to raid them. You know as well as I that they''ll ally with Harlenor once they finish here."


    "Not so sure about that," said Raj, a wistful smile on his old face. "Sorn may have once been part of Antion, but they hate each other almost as much as they hate us. I think they might just start killing eachother as soon as it''s over.


    "Still, I''m not turning down a job like that.


    "Anything else?"


    "There is another matter," said Sahshir. "I expect you to carry the warriors of Zigilus with you to battle."


    "Those blood drinkers?" asked Raj, not sounding upset so much as surprised. "Why? I thought your kind didn''t like them."


    "If they''re fighting our enemies, they cannot be causing trouble for us here," said Sahshir. Then Raj stepped back and kneeled with sarcasm. "Fair point. Alright, you''ve got a deal. My boys and I will take care of your fancy fleet."


    "Good," said Sahshir before looking at the men. A large part of Raj''s crew must have been here. But, more importantly, none of them seemed to respect him. "Tell me, which one of the men here would you like to remain uninjured."


    "What do you mean?" asked Raj.


    "If you had to pick an indispensable man in this room, who would it be?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    Raj thought about it. Then he pointed to another man with blonde hair. "Well, I imagine myself. But, failing that, my mate Acton would be it."


    "Excellent," said Sahshir.


    Then he surged at the men, and his rage was unleashed. Before one of the men could move, he was floored. Another went at him, but Sahshir gripped him by the hair and smashed him against the wall. Two who came from behind were knocked flat. Sahshir was sure to pull them back before they could hit the counter.


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    Another came at him with a stool, but he disarmed him and threw him down before setting down the stool. Then, as he set his hand to his blade, he found himself surrounded by a thicket of swords.


    "Put them down," said Sahshir. "Or none of you will have hands."


    Raj laughed from where he was sitting cross-legged and tossed his sword into the air. As it fell, he rose and sheathed the weapon while coming forward. He waved off the men. "Put up your swords, mates; the King and I are in this!"


    Raj set a hand to his sword as Sahshir mirrored the motion. For a moment, they held each other''s gaze. Then, the moment passed into what seemed an eternity.


    Then their blades were out and moving in a blur. They hacked and slashed at one another, parrying and slashing. Raj seemed to be enjoying the fight until; finally, Sahshir turned Raj''s blade. Bringing around a leg, he kicked the man''s legs out from under him and brought down his sword. He halted it over Raj''s throat.


    Then he noticed an iron point at his own throat. Raj was smiling, and he''d shot the thing from one sleeve. For a moment, they paused, then Sahshir stepped up. Raj rose quickly. "Well, you''re a bit more than rotting flesh and parched bone, after all. I''ll take the job with pride."


    "... Don''t even speak of my affliction lightly again," said Sahshir. "Or you''ll lose your crew, then your life."


    Raj laughed. "Fair enough, fair enough.


    "Up, you sea dogs! We''ve more than bruises ahead of us in the weeks to come! Who are they?"Sahshir left in disgust.


    No matter how many victories he won, he''d always be treated as less than a full warrior. Then, meeting his entourage, he saw another group.


    They were a sharp contrast to Sahshir''s Silent Guard. The new arrivals wore very little, and what they did wear left little to the imagination. Every one of them, man and woman, were universally beautiful to look at. Many had skin tinted reddish or purple, strange hair, and eye colors. They wore axes and curved swords and wore little armor.


    Narcissa was clad in more practical armor than last time at their head. Still black, with a huge axe. Her golden hair was hidden beneath a black, horned helmet that concealed all but her eyes. "Sahshir, I see you''re up to the usual."


    "Narcissa, I was not expecting you for some time," said Sahshir.


    "I''ve come ahead of the main column," said Narcissa. "Figured I''d see to it that my troops had proper lodging."


    "Well, I''m certain they could find lodging in you, beautiful." crowed Raj.


    Sahshir resisted the urge to stab him, and Narcissa came forward. "Is this Raj Danal?"


    "The same," said Raj.


    "You''re utterly repulsive," said Narcissa, voice matter of fact.


    "Well, if it exists, it appeals to someone," noted Raj.


    Narcissa blinked. "You''ve read the texts of Zigildrazia?"


    "I dabbled in them as a younger man, yes," said Raj. "Preferred blood to beds, so I gave myself to her lieutenant, Melchious. Still, I ought to ask you how your warriors will perform on the seas?"


    "I wouldn''t know; we haven''t been on them before now," said Narcissa. "Still, we faced an invasion by monsters and Dinis at once. So it should go well."


    "Lots of carnage?" asked Raj, voice eager.


    "Like you wouldn''t believe," said Narcissa. "Though many of the recruits I''m bringing with me weren''t combatants at the time?"


    "Find any good loot?" asked Raj.


    "If by ''loot'' you mean what we could salvage from the broken wreckage of our homeland, yes," said Narcissa, voice dark.


    "Still counts," said Raj with a shrug. "Now, why don''t we get to the nitty-gritty details of the fleet. Tell me what I''ll be commanding and your guidelines for me."


    And so began a meeting where Sahshir did explain all those things and more. Raj listened carefully, despite his outward appearance. Often he asked questions that Sahshir needed an answer for. Many of them were things that had yet to appear important. But Raj clearly did and demanded them. For example, certain vegetables were to be provided to his men. Apparently, to keep them in good health. That was one of many such requests.


    "No good going to see without a healthy crew," said Raj.


    Sahshir began to see that Raj had not gotten his position for nothing. He''d ended up having to send letters requesting certain supplies. Even so, his repulsive nature had Sahshir dearly wishing he were less of a legend.


    "Raj Danal certainly is smarter than he appears," said Narcissa afterward.


    "His grasp of raiding is unmatched. His talent for naval warfare is likewise flawless," said Sahshir, remembering the reading. "When he was fifteen, he led the crew of a merchant''s vessel to victory over two Dinis military vessels. He led them on a chase and saw them both broken on the reefs."


    "Do you think we can trust him?" asked Narcissa.


    "He has always acted loyally to Calisha, yes," said Sahshir.


    "Oh good," said Narcissa, sarcasm as she drew off her helm. "In Zigilus, everyone is loyal to Zigildrazia, not so much to each other. I''ve heard there were all kinds of backstabbing from my advisors." Her blonde hair fell around her shoulders and down her back. Sahshir privately thought she had looked better with her hair tied up.


    "It is a good thing to know," said Sahshir. Then he considered Narcissa''s own issues. "...Has there been any resurgence?"


    Narcissa sighed. "Amysta has not appeared again or manifested, no. She''s been quiet in the way she was before the fall of Zigilus. Though I think she was always at the back of my mind."


    "And what news from Baltoth?" asked Sahshir.


    "I received a letter from High King Suloth. He officially granted us sanctuary on behalf of Emperor Baltoth," said Narcissa. "I''m surprised you didn''t hear about it."


    "I did," said Sahshir. "However, I thought Baltoth might have some special requirements he asked of you. He and Amysta have been enemies more often than allies."


    "Well, they are siblings," noted Narcissa. "Alkela and I have our disagreements now and then. And I still wish she could come."


    "Have either of you ever tried to torture the other into insanity?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    Narcissa paused. "...Well, no."


    "Then you are not similar to Baltoth and Amysta," said Sahshir. "They clashed many times before Zigildrazia overthrew the latter. And cost each other dearly.


    "I would have expected Baltoth to have some kind of reaction."


    "I get the feeling that Baltoth isn''t really making decisions anyway," said Narcissa.


    "What?!" said Sahshir, hardly believing his ears.


    "Well, Suloth seems to be the one everyone seeks the approval of," said Narcissa. "All practical affairs go through him. He may use the Emperor''s seal, but it seems to me that he is the one in charge."


    "Emperor Baltoth does not act directly," said Sahshir, feeling like he were talking to a child. "His will infuses every being in all of Calisha. Therefore, all things that happen have been foreseen and accounted for.


    "Do not speak of Baltoth as though he were a mortal Emperor. He is inconceivable to mortals." He reminded himself that Narcissa had no experience in these matters. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Fair enough," said Narcissa, not understanding.


    At that moment, a man wearing the robes of a royal messenger rushed up to him on foot and kneeled, offering a scroll. "King Sahshir, I bear a message from Emperor Octavus of the Dinis Empire."


    "Give it to me," said Sahshir, taking the scroll. He saw the seal, broke it, and unrolled it.


    ''To the Chieftain of the Eastern Kalthakians,


    ''Your presence on the battlefield in service to Dinis is accepted. Meet my son on the island of Chaminus two weeks from there. Come to us, and we will discuss the details of your involvement.


    ''-The Empress Mother, Atria''


    "Chieftain?" asked Sahshir, deeply offended. And a message from the Emperor''s mother at that. He should consider depopulating Dinis. If only so, they would give him some respect. Wars had been started for less, after all. But, no, that would not be wise. Dinis had a direct border, in any case.


    So he would stick to his original plan.


    "What does it say?" asked Narcissa.


    "Far more than was intended." snarled Sahshir. "We have our permission. Find Raj, tell him to make ready for war."

 Chapter Four: Battle on the Seas

    Days later, Sahshir retched over the ship''s side into the bright blue sea. When he''d first seen it, it had been beautiful. Now that he was used to it, it was only a moderate distraction from his pain.


    A hand went to his shoulder. Retching once more, he finished and pulled his mask back on. Then, looking back to Narcissa, he saw her gazing at him in concern. She''d shed her armor for the moment and was clad in simple brown clothes that suited her far better. "Sahshir, are you alright?"


    "I am... well..." said Sahshir.


    "Seasickness is a common problem for those who first set foot on a ship," said Narcissa, who hadn''t suffered. "Or so people tell me."


    Laughter came from the rest of the crew. Sahshir glanced over to where Raj was directing his men. It wasn''t worth the trouble of killing them all, especially at sea. He might need this scum for something.


    "He fights like a demon in battle, but he has the sea legs of a lamb," noted Raj.


    "Watch your tone, Raj." snarled Sahshir.


    "Oh, far be it from me to offend you," said Raj. "I threw my guts up into the sea when I first rode her waves. It''s a custom among sailors."


    "How far are we from Chaminus?" asked Sahshir, scaling the steps.


    "Close enough," said Raj. "Assuming Dinis meets us there, we should see their fleets soon. Though I doubt we will."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Narcissa. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Raj shrugged. "Eh, Dinis has never been what one could call a naval power. They''ve won one or two battles but never enough to gain dominance. Mostly they hold their own or get routed.""It is true, Narcissa," said Sahshir. "Dinis has mostly won wars on land."


    "Shouldn''t a leader know all this?" asked Raj. "Or are you more of a figurehead?"


    "The latter, actually," admitted Narcissa. "I don''t have much in the way of firsthand experience in leadership. Alkela is the one who has a flair for documentation; she always used to help Zarana with paperwork.


    "Though she really hates communicating with anyone. She prefers to just observe things as they play out. And it''s the youngers who really run things."


    "Youngers?" asked Raj.


    "Well, if someone gets old, as in ugly and wrinkled, they generally burned alive. If old people all die, they don''t take up resources, and we don''t have to look at them. We used to have burning festivals back when Zigilus was still standing.


    "There''d be all kinds of good food and hangings. They can''t work anyway, so it''s a much more efficient system," said Narcissa. "Or it was until somebody outlawed the practice." She glared at Sahshir, who glared back.


    "I make no apology. It''s a barbaric practice, and you are barbaric," said Sahshir flatly. "Old age is part of the natural order, and it is the responsibility of youth to respect and care for the aged. Deal with it."


    "What are these ''youngers'' though?" asked Raj.


    "Those who pleased Zigildrazia enough that they ascended into demonhood," said Narcissa. "Many of them were killed. But, Zigildrazia was able to bring back some of them. I''m a figurehead."


    "Yes, what would your people do without their eternal and neverending depravity?" asked Sahshir sarcastically. "And if you decide to have them all murdered, you have my full support."


    "Well, leave the matter to us then," said Raj. "Posing seductively is far more feminine a pursuit."


    "Zigildrazia''s texts say you ought to combine the two," said Narcissa.


    "Seems a waste of effort," said Raj. "I mean, you might end up permanently scarred or something. Waste of valuable property. Unless you''re an elf, they don''t scar at all."


    "There are spells for that," said Narcissa.


    They looked to the other ships within the fleet. They were several dozen in number. More a loose coalition of pirates loyal to Baltoth than a true fleet. Sahshir would eventually have to see some kind of organized command structure set up. If this campaign went well, he might arrange it.


    "Captain-" called a lookout.


    "Admiral to you, lad!" snapped Raj.


    "Admiral; we''ve a Sorn fleet approaching us!" said the lookout.


    "How many?" asked Raj.


    "Two dozen!" said the man.


    "Then we''ve got numbers," said Raj. "Set up the signal, mates! Prepare for war! We''ll see the curs running before the end!


    "Whose symbol is it above the mast?"


    "...House Magnious and their retainers." said the man.


    "Right, right," said Raj, "that makes sense. Kaba likes easy targets, so he wouldn''t try for this."


    "What do you mean by that?" asked Narcissa.


    "Well," said Raj, "Sorn is ruled by a council of nobles; well, they call them ''merchant lords,'' but they''re basically nobles. They just got their titles cause of how many people they cheated instead of how many people they killed. So all these merchants are always jockeying for power. Kaba and Magnious are the only ones with the power to get this kind of invasion down." He looked down. "Acton, get the sorcerers who lost the card game! Have them prepare to dose with malas!"


    "Malas?" asked Narcissa, voice horrified. "Do you know what that can do to people?"


    "Yes, but he won''t have to worry about it," said Raj. "Loser of the card game takes a massive dose and kill themselves, burning a ship."


    "We are not yet officially at war with Sorn," noted Sahshir, watching as the ships came into sight. Sure enough, there were two dozen of them. "It may be wise to let them strike first."


    "Well, we''ll have to get close for that," said Raj.


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    The men worked, and Sahshir watched as Raj''s men on the ship painted pentacles on the surface of the wood. They did it quickly, and several men went forward and set foot within each. As they did, a box of golden powder was opened, and each inhaled it. Their eyes went blank as they began to chant.


    At the same time, Raj gave orders, and the fleets charged toward eachother.


    Then a spear was launched from one of the ships. It shot straight toward Sahshir at lightning speed. Moving out of the way, he caught it under one elbow and turned the shaft in mid-air to plunge into the ground. Arrows landed, and one of the sorcerers was caught in the throat, along with several crewmen.


    Men with shields came to screen them, and the ritual was complete. "Well, I''d say that counts as a declaration," said Raj. "Set to work, lads!"


    "Yes, sir!" cried the sorcerers.


    Then they glowed with a bright, white light. As they did, they screamed, and six massive waves shot toward six Sornian ships. They collided, and hulls splintered as men were thrown from the fighting top. Some of the ships turned over completely as men floundered in the water. But the wind blew one of the ships away from the wave, saving it from destruction.


    Then the ships were closing.


    "Prepare to board!" cried Raj, looking like he was having the time of his life.


    Sahshir drew his sword, even as Narcissa returned in her armor, axe in hand. Already the Sornians were meeting with the other ships. Battles were being waged as men swung over the decks. Others threw down bridges and rushed over them to hack at one another. Sahshir deflected several arrows as they came up alongside the enemy vessel.


    A gangplank was thrown down, and Sahshir raised the Sword of Order. "FOR CALISHA!!"


    Then he charged across the plank before anyone else was ready. Two men went to meet him and lost their heads. Another blocked his sword with a shield. The blade cleaved through wood and body to cut him in half lengthwise. The enemy surrounded him as he weaved and slashed.


    Then Narcissa came in from behind, laying about her with her axe. The Silent Guard came as a shadow behind him. The others came afterward, and the enemy line buckled. Chaos overtook the deck as the battle continued.


    As Sahshir hacked his way through the enemy, he caught sight of a Calishan ship. The banner of Kalthak was being lowered and, in its place, was the symbol of House Magnious.


    Turning, he parried a thrust and hacked another man down.


    Sahshir fought all the harder, cutting down all he could. Soon the enemy crew was dead or taken captive.


    "Victory is ours!" cried Raj. "Now, let''s see if we can find another enemy to fight!"


    But the battle was largely over. The enemy fleet drew away, pausing only to pull men from the ocean. They had lost many ships but taken several as well. Sahshir could see the wreckage of several of his vessels on the water as though they''d been capsized.


    There wasn''t a bit of wind in the air.


    "The wind, it''s stopped," said Raj thoughtfully.


    "It doesn''t seem to have stopped for the enemy," said Narcissa.


    Sahshir looked out and saw the enemy retreating at an alarming rate. As though all the wind were being drawn into their sails. "Far from it."


    "Well then, that explains it," muttered Raj. "Garrick''s on that vessel. I suppose we''ll call this a draw."


    "On the contrary," said Sahshir. "The field is ours. Victory for Baltoth!"


    "Victory for Baltoth!" echoed the men with a cry.


    "Put back up those sails and let''s head for Chaminus," said Raj. "We''ll need to beach and repair ourselves at a port."


    "Who is Garrick?" asked Narcissa.


    "Worst enemy I ever faced," said Raj. "He has contacts with the spirits of the winds. A mercenary who works for the highest bidder. Even worse, you can''t bribe him to go away."


    "Well, I-" began Sahshir.


    Then he felt the agony return, all the stronger. He fell to one knee, shuddering as he tried to stand. Narcissa kneeled by him. "Sahshir, are you alright?"


    "...The pain is worse. It used to be numb," said Sahshir, feeling as if his skin would fall off.


    "What happened to you to make you like that?" asked Raj. "If you don''t mind me asking."


    "A curse from the goddess Laevian. It was passed down through Tuor''s descendants," said Sahshir."I''m sorry," said Raj.


    It was the first time Raj had seemed anything close to contemplative.


    They saw no sign of the Sornian Fleet for the next few days. Even so, Sahshir was worried. While it had been a victory, the Sornians had given as well as they had gotten despite being outnumbered. Worse still, Sahshir suspected this was merely a vanguard for a far larger fleet.


    "What''s wrong?" asked Narcissa.


    "I''m not certain we can win this war," said Sahshir after a moment.


    "Why not?" asked Narcissa.


    "Sorn has far more experience with ships than us," said Sahshir. "They also have greater numbers at that. So even cooperating with Dinis, we may well be overwhelmed."


    "So do you want to seek terms?" asked Narcissa.


    "Of course not." scoffed Sahshir. "One does not give ground to the enemy except to destroy them later. Besides, the very fact that Sorn has overwhelming power indicates that we must fight them now.


    "Let them take McShore, and they''ll target Chaminus next. From there, they''ll be able to strike out shores with impunity.


    "Better to risk bad odds now than face impossible odds later."


    "So, what is our plan?" asked Narcissa. "Dictate terms in Suvera?"


    "No," said Sahshir. "Not yet.


    "We''ll put ourselves as allies to Dinis. This is their war. We''ll act in their interest and let them handle the diplomacy. If they are wise, they''ll agree to terms that restore the old borders and give Sorn some benefits. From there, they can renegotiate by the sword later when they are stronger.


    "If not, they''ll die gloriously."


    "So you don''t think they can win," said Narcissa.


    "Simple analysis dictates the futility of their cause," said Sahshir. "They''ve got monsters roaming their lands. So they will be unable to focus their full power on the sea. Moreover, their fleet is less numerous and less skilled than Sorn''s.


    "Even if a stunning victory is won against Sorn, Sorn will recover and return for blood. If Dinis suffers one major defeat, they''ll be out of the war. Our assistance will probably prolong the war to an extent. But I fully expect we''ll all be dead by this end."


    "Then why did you march to war?" asked Narcissa.


    "All men die," said Sahshir. "And I will die soon. So why not die in glory?"


    "That''s it?" asked Narcissa.


    "I''ve also dispatched letters to Ruscow informing them of the situation," admitted Sahshir. "If we stalemate the enemy long enough, the main Calishan Kingdoms may become involved. Then we may have a chance of victory."


    "You don''t sound enthusiastic," noted Narcissa.


    "If Calisha takes Dinis'' side, Sorn will probably go to Harlenor for support," said Sahshir. "Our vendetta with them is as old as their Kingdoms. They will not want Calisha to destroy Sorn for fear of a beachhead. This would result in a massive war between the east and west. One that would likely annihilate entire nations. Millions could die.


    "So, I hope you don''t take it personally when I say that I sincerely hope we die to little effect."


    Silence fell over them then as they stared into the mist. Then, suddenly, it cleared, and they saw a great island. There was a mountain at the center of it, with several towns upon it. The towns were built in a strange style, like that of Kalthak, but with red stone. There were many trees throughout the cities. Sahshir saw that harbor had little in the way of fortifications on it.


    "Is that Chaminus?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes," said Sahshir. "Macshore is some leagues beyond. There is the banner of Dinis, but I do not see many ships."


    "Run up the flag of parley and bring our vessel forward," said Raj, coming forward. "We''ll see how well they like us before we approach."


    "We have permission from their Emperor," noted Narcissa.


    "Oh, true enough." began Raj. "That doesn''t mean that-"


    And then, a massive serpent emerged from the water with shimmering scales. It rose high above, with golden frills rising around it. It looked down on them with swirling, multicolored eyes as a forked tongue hissing. Behind the head rose a vast body that towered over them.


    Sahshir had never seen a golden dragon before. Now he realized why they were so famed in Kalthak. Yet he had always thought they dwelled in the wastes between East and West Kalthak. What was it doing in the ocean?


    "What is your business in Chaminus, Kalthakian?" asked the serpent, voice a low hiss.


    "I am Abdul Sahshir, King of Eastern Kalthak, and I have come to aid Dinis against the fleets of Sorn," said Sahshir. "Who am I speaking to?"


    "I am Shalteth, Servant of Chaminus," said Shalteth. "You are expected. You may dock with all the rest of your fleets."


    "Where are the fleets of Dinis?" asked Sahshir.


    "They have not yet come," said Sheltath. "The Emperor will be leading his forces here soon.""So be it," said Sahshir. Just like the Emperor to be late.


    "A warning," said Sheltath. "Do not harm any upon this land, or it will be the last thing you ever do."


    Sahshir nodded. "I understand."


    If it came to it, he expected he could kill Sheltath. But there was no reason to be discourteous. And he had no intention of starting a fight anyway. Chances were the island would be burned up with or without his help anyway.

 Chapter Five: Arrival

    Sahshir, Narcissa, and Raj stepped off the vessel onto the pier. Around them, Sahshir saw the ships pulling to a halt, laden with many boxes and barrels. Others were being loaded by cranes onto ships. The dock itself was filled with all manner of people hastily unloading supplies. There were Babarassians and Harlenorians, and Drens in particular. Most common of all were the olive-skinned Dinisians. All were watched over by blue-plumed guards bearing pikes and armor. Their helms were of fine metal that gleamed in the sun, and many had long mustaches. A dignified-looking official could be seen speaking with one of the merchants.


    Worryingly enough, there were bars on the street corners. Though they seemed to at least be less seedy than those in Saladus. They were kept clean, and no men were in the gutters. Nor could Sahshir see any sign of beggars on street corners or anything.


    What kind of barbarians drank alcohol? Baltoth had forbidden it for a reason. Yet it seemed his teachings were being slowly forgotten even in his domain. Rammas'' rebellion left a legacy indeed.


    "This place seems nice enough," said Narcissa, shouldering her axe. She looked at the Dinisians warily, no doubt remembering the legion torching her city. "Still, where is everyone?"


    "We''re hardly the most magnificent of fleets," noted Raj warily.


    But someone did meet them at the end of the pier. She was a girl a little younger than Sahshir, with long, light pink hair, and was thin. She wore a red outfit, a combination of shirt and skirt, and a knife at her side. On either side of her were men in blue samurai armor. Both must have been immensely expensive, and the katanas at their side were excellent.


    Sahshir felt somewhat conscientious about his own simple black armor. Hardly superior to his Silent Guard, save for the gold.


    "Greetings to you, King Sahshir," said the girl, bowing. "I am Serna, seneschal of King Nagos of Chaminus. I am here on his behalf to welcome you here."


    "Where is the King himself?" asked Sahshir, feeling he should be offended.


    "He was; he has an unexpected development to take care of," said Serna, which made Sahshir believe she did not know. "If you wait, I am certain he will arrive soon.


    "If you follow me, I will gladly escort you and your entourage to the palace while the matter is settled."


    "In truth, I''d prefer to explore this island myself," said Sahshir. "I need no guards."


    "That seems perfectly reasonable," said Serna. She glanced at the vessels, ragged from battle. "Um, is this the vanguard of the fleet?"


    "We had a battle on the way here and routed a Sorn force," said Sahshir flatly.


    Serna sighed. "Then, war is certain."


    "War is here," said Sahshir. "Are you not somewhat young to act as a seneschal?"


    Serna paused. "King Nagos would have no one else. He has... odd preferences. Perhaps we should discuss the repair of your ships. Admiral Yin is the head of our navy, and I believe he desired to discuss plans." She motioned to one of the blue-clad samurai, who stepped forward. Now that Sahshir looked at it, he saw that the armor had no demon symbols on the mask. Instead, it bore the face of a familiar woman. He''d seen the likeness many times.


    "Very well, then," said Sahshir.


    He glanced at Raj. "Raj, I leave the discussions to you. Provide me with a full report once the matter is concluded. And see to it that your men behave themselves. If a single citizen of this island is injured, if a single place is damaged. I''ll take the heads of those responsible."


    "Yes, yes, understood," said Raj.


    "Are we going or what?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes, of course," said Sahshir. "Tell me, Serna, is there a shrine to Safara on this island? I believe I should pay my respects." If only to spite Garacel.


    Serna shifted. "Um, are you certain you don''t want to go to the palace first? Safara is a patient deity and will gladly wait for you to rest."


    "I detest luxury," said Sahshir. "And I would prefer to pray immediately."


    "Well," Serna shifted, "the shrine of Safara is near the knees of the mountain if you wish to make an offering. I shall lead you there if you wish."


    "I wish it," said Sahshir.


    He nodded to Yin, who returned the motion and moved to speak with Raj. Privately Sahshir suspected that Chaminus would be a far better seaman than his countrymen. It would be best to cooperate.


    Serna led Sahshir and Narcissa through the streets. As they walked, Sahshir glanced at Serna. "Tell me, when did a Serpent Shrine come to this island?"


    "It was when King Nagos'' predecessor ruled," said Serna. "Safaranism started among slaves in Macshore and other islands, you see. It was believed it would be a good way to prevent slave revolts. But it was only a short time before it spread to some lower classes.


    "King Trasos chose to erect the shrine here. It was the great building of his reign."


    She pointed, and Sahshir saw a great serpent statue on a ridge surrounded by trees. And yet it was not a statue but a building. A great cobra with a fire within its mouth. He turned to the streets and noticed the people did not seem keen to bow. They wore less than those in his homeland but far more than those from Zigilus and seemed unmindful.


    "What do you mean by ''great building?''" asked Narcissa.


    "Every King of Chaminus has to perform some construction project," said Serna. "Nagos has been lagging on doing so, however. He''s, well, we''re working on a different project."


    "What project?" asked Sahshir.


    "I''m not allowed to speak of it," said Serna. "But, well, I expect you''ll find out soon if the war does happen."


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    Some sort of weapon?


    Soon, Sahshir and Narcissa were led to the shrine. As he did, he marveled at the craftsmanship of the building. Every structure in this land was made with many strange designs. Most buildings were old and well-built but simple. But the serpent shrine was magnificent up close. He had to crane his neck to see the top as he neared the entry, making him dizzy.


    Entering the domain, he found the statues of Safara.


    There were, as was tradition, three of them painted. All three were of the same stunningly beautiful woman with hair painted red and tan painted skin. She had the lower body of a serpent. One had long red hair tied above her head in a vast ponytail and wore a red and gold brassiere. The next had her hair falling around her shoulders and bore two scimitars. Last, the third statue had her hair down, two long horns, and six arms, each holding a blade. She was bare breasts, and her mouth was wide open, a forked tongue stuck out.


    "Why are there three?" asked Narcissa. "Or are they sisters?"


    "Each one represents a different aspect of Safara and her domain of love and passion," said Sahshir. "The first is Safara the Dutiful. That is passion within the bounds of the restrictions of society. The second is Safara, the Unleashed. Passion unleashed within appropriate circumstances. Last of all is Safara the Consumer.


    "Only the most obsessive pray to her."


    "Why?" asked Narcissa.


    "Safara is," Serna paused, "well, she has some strange beliefs. Safarans believe that the ultimate form of existence is to be in a state of love. Safara loves everything and everything with an obsessiveness that defies belief.


    "One prays to Safara the Dutiful to endure hardship. One prays to Safara the Unleashed to gain something you desire greatly. But praying to Safara the Consumer, for anything is... unwise.


    "If you do it, what you desire may be granted. But if it is, Safara will consume you after your death. Your soul will be remade in her image. You will effectively become her."


    Narcissa frowned. "Right."


    "Will you be praying here?" asked Serna. "Or shall I speak to the priestess-"


    "I do not make use of such services," said Sahshir. "They are immoral, and I have an incurable skin disease."


    "What services?" asked Narcissa.


    "Safaran religion believes in unconditional love," said Serna. "Thus, they see nothing wrong with prostitution. For a donation, the priestesses offer themselves."


    "Oh, right," said Narcissa. "Could you show me to these priestesses?"


    "Um," Serna shifted, "are you certain that-"


    "Everyone among my kind is attracted to both genders," said Narcissa. "Zigildrazia bred out the other orientations generations ago."


    "Ah," said Serna, "I''ll take you to see them. Just pay attention to the badges they wear. Priestesses of Safara tend to look like her after a few years."


    So Serna led Narcissa out, and Sahshir felt privately sick. However, this was not the time to check Zigildrazian depravity.


    Sahshir was left alone and no longer had anything to distract him from the pain. Moving forward, he reflected that Garacel had once held this domain. Lover eternal, he had been called. It was strange that love and war had been so associated in the days of Garacel. Though Safara had a different method.


    Sahshir considered his options. Safara the Consumer was out of the question. Falling apart though he may have been, he would prefer to remain himself. To, in some life, be judged worthy of being one of Baltoth''s Immortals and taking his place at the table of Baelgost. Safara the Dutiful was an option, but this was a war. Yes, it was Safara the Unleashed he must pray to. Kneeling before Safara the Unleashed, he set his sword before his knees. "Safara, favored daughter of Baltoth, I have not prayed to you before.


    "My strength is waning. My flesh is being consumed. Grant me the strength to gain victory here, and I shall devote every kill I make to your name. Every warrior I slay in this war shall be done for your sake."


    For a moment, there was only silence. Sahshir waited there in silent meditation, communing with the spirit beyond.


    Then the pain in Sahshir''s body began to lift. No glow radiated from the statue, but the light fell on it strangely. Rising up, Sahshir sheathed his sword and turned to walk out. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Outside, he tensed and halted. Looking up, he saw a boy clad in white lounging on top of the doorframe. He had short, blonde hair and blue eyes and shifted to look down at him. "Oh, hey. You look new here, and I know almost everyone on this island. Who are you?"


    How could he know everyone?


    "I am King Abdul Sahshir of Eastern Kalthak," said Sahshir, annoyed at the lack of respect.


    "Wow, a King, huh." said the boy. "That sounds like something really interesting. Have you fought in many battles? Ruled over any court cases?"


    "A few," said Sahshir.


    "You''re not really one for conversation, are you?" asked the boy.


    "Not really," admitted Sahshir.


    "So what''s with the mask, anyway?" asked the boy. "You trying to look mysterious or something?"


    "My body is disfigured," said Sahshir flatly. He wondered if his blade was in range.


    "Oh, well, this is awkward." said the boy. "So what are you doing out here in Chaminus? Your ships took a real beating, didn''t they?"


    "We had a battle with Sornian ships," said Sahshir.


    "Wow, that sounds interesting." said the boy. "I''ve heard the Sornians go around kidnapping people and selling them into slavery."


    "Everyone does that," noted Sahshir.


    "Yeah, but the Sornians have these huge slave markets." said the boy. "They are where most of the slaves that people seize in battle end up. Then they sell them to plantations to be worked to death. They''re unpleasant."


    This boy was either a good liar or had seen things off this island. That implied he''d had a career of some kind. "Who are you, exactly?"


    The boy dropped down. "I''m Nagos, the King of Chaminus. Well, more of a Prince. I sort of run things around here."


    "If that''s the case, what are you doing here?" asked Sahshir. "You ought to have met with us.""Asking questions," said Nagos. "I like to know things about everyone who comes into my island. And I wanted to see how you''d speak to someone unimportant."


    "Aren''t you concerned about the danger?" asked Sahshir.


    "Eh, not really," admitted Nagos. "Most people like me."


    "And where do you stand on the war?" asked Sahshir.


    "Oh, you mean the thing going on between Sorn and Dinis?" asked Nagos. "Don''t care about it, to be honest."


    "How can you not care?" asked Sahshir. "Chaminus is a protectorate of Dinis. So if Dinis is weakened, it affects you."


    "Now see, you''re talking like those words your saying have any meaning," said Nagos. "Dinis and Sorn are words used to describe many different people. Neither of them does anything. Instead, individual people within Sorn and Dinis do things.


    "Nations are words we use to describe the sum of our choices.


    "I care what the Emperor decides to do. I care what Sorn merchants decide to do. I don''t care what their nations do because they don''t do anything."


    "If that''s the case, why did you describe the men of Sorn as unpleasant," asked Sahshir.


    "Well, names exist for a reason," said Nagos. "When I said ''Sorn'' I was saying ''Sorn raiders.'' The people who choose to hurt innocent people to make a profit. And all the people who give them an incentive.


    "Although I wouldn''t judge any of them until I met them, come to think of it."


    "What plans do you have, anyway?" asked Sahshir, finding Nagos bewildering.


    "Plans?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes, to deal with Sorn," said Sahshir, amazed he had to clarify.


    "Eh, I''m not big on planning," said Nagos. "I''m sure things will work out for the best as long as we all do our best."


    "What world do you live in?" asked Sahshir.


    "An island, of course. Though I guess people can connect between islands on boats," said Nagos. "What was the metaphor about?"


    "There wasn''t one," said Sahshir flatly.


    "Hey, do you want to have a meal?" asked Nagos. "I have this excellent cook."


    Sahshir blinked. "I would have to retrieve my entourage."


    "Fine, we can bring them too," said Nagos.


    And then Serna came back. She halted as she saw Nagos and rushed up to him. "Nagos, what are you doing? Can''t you just wander off when a fleet enters the harbor? What if they''d attacked?"


    "Oh, Serna, there you are," said Nagos. "I think we both know Yin would do the commanding. I''m just talking to him anyway."


    "That''s the King of Kalthak, Nagos!" said Serna. "You have... I..."


    "I will accept your invitation," said Sahshir, realizing Nagos hadn''t known who he was.


    "Great," said Nagos, "let''s wait for your other friend, and then we can go."


    Nagos had certainly been different from what Sahshir expected. He was curious whether this was a good or a bad thing.

 Chapter Six: The Son of Safara

    After several meetings with Raj and Admiral Yin, they had to arrange their men''s lodging. Yin proved a formal, quiet man who spoke only when necessary and usually in short sentences. Apparently, he had served under Nagos'' Father. Sahshir made the arrangements himself. Narcissa, meanwhile, had an argument with Raj about several things.


    Nagos said very little during these. Sahshir almost thought he was daydreaming. But several times, he''d sit up and ask some questions that threw Raj or Yin for a loop. It was clear Nagos was far less flippant than he pretended to be.


    When those were over, they retired in the waning daylight to eat. As they did, a satyr played flute by a roaring fire. Sahshir felt awkward, sitting with his mask in place with a sword when everyone else was clad in fine garments. He''d explained why he needed the blade, and Nagos had accepted.


    However, he had forgotten to mention that he always ate in private. Now Nagos was looking at him in concern as a meal was served. "Aren''t you going to eat anything?"


    "I usually eat in private," admitted Sahshr. "My face is not something pleasant to look at." But, as was the custom, he hadn''t eaten with Father or his men for years before he left. Likely that was why Uncle had felt he could remove him.


    "It''s only flesh and skin, Sahshir," said Nagos. "The body you were born in isn''t you. It''s just the thing you live in like a house. There are plenty of people in nice houses who are rotten to the core and plenty of good people who live in glass ones. I mean, rotten ones.


    "Nevermind."


    Sahshir wondered if Nagos actually believed what he said. There was a test. "Very well, you may wish to avert your eyes."


    Serna seemed about to, but Nagos put a hand on her shoulder. Sahshir gripped his mask and drew it off. Serna put a hand to her mouth but said nothing. Nagos shrugged.


    "Well, that''s not nearly as bad as you made it sound," said Nagos. "Now, why don''t we eat?"


    So they ate. Sahshir found the foot to be heavily spiced and very rich. It was, however, absolutely delicious. Narcissa wolfed down large portions of it, probably a stint from her time on the street.


    "So, what do you think of the food?" asked Nagos,


    Sahshir found he had to eat slowly. Once he ate too much and almost choked. "It is excellent. However, I''m not used to such rich foods. In Kalthak, we do not use seasoning."


    "But do you like it?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes," said Sahshir. So why did he always press questions?


    "It''s wonderful," asked Narcissa. "How did you make these?"


    "Well, they use some spices that we can get through trade routes," said Nagos. "That was five years ago before I became King."


    Five years? "When did you ascend?" asked Sahshir.


    "Two years ago," said Serna. "Nagos and I went all over before the Priestess of Safara found us. At the time, I was working with some pirates as a deckhand, but my bloodlines were right."


    "You worked as a deckhand?" asked Sahshir, remembering his constant training. He''d taken to fighting like a fish to water. But Aresh, their Father before he became Tuor, had forced him to train in it constantly. He''d said that the ability to protect one''s people was the most essential virtue a king could have.


    "It''s not something we usually talk about," said Serna. "Still, we''ve gotten quite a bit done. Nagos'' relationship with the various pirate leaders has let us avoid their raids. He made favorable deals with them."


    A man opened the door and rushed in. "King Nagos, we have a problem!"


    What manner of King let himself be called on like an ordinary servant? Sahshir thought for sure Nagos would flare up at this. But he just smiled and stood up. "What is it, Sunshin?"


    "A merchant is accusing another of fraud." said the man. "We need you to meditate."


    "Fine, fine, I''ll be there," said Nagos. "Just keep them in place. Being King is a pain in my neck." Then he walked out.


    Sahshir was not sure what to think. Nagos seemed to regard his duties as a hassle, yet he did them from what he saw. Was he putting on an act? But why demonstrate such a familiar presence with his inferiors? A King must put forth an aura of strength.


    "Your King is... eccentric," said Narcissa.


    "I know," said Serna. "His Father was killed in battle with Sorn, and he was taken as a hostage when he was very young. But the ship was attacked by pirates when he was on his way to Sorn. So he grew up in one of the pirate towns all over the islands of power.


    "That''s where I met him. My family lived there, we were the descendants of slaves taken, and we became friends. By the time I was born, we''d become well off."


    "So, how did he get back here?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, the Kings of this Island are all of an extraordinary bloodline. One descended from the God of Friendship, who''s long since dead," said Serna. "Some priests ran into him on the island and realized he was the heir. At the time, Dinis was making plans to replace the King. So the priests feared that Dinis would try to annex the place fully.


    "So they went and brought us back. Nagos wanted me to come with him, so we did."


    "Does anyone respect him?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    "Well, they all like him," said Serna. "And he generally can be relied on to make good decisions and take advice. The problem is he doesn''t really care about formality at all."


    They spoke of other things for a time. The flute playing was quite enchanting, Sahshir thought to himself. He''d never known satyrs had any music talent. And he learned a great deal. It quickly became apparent that Nagos was very active in the day-to-day affairs of the island.


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    But rather than putting on the image of an invincible King of letting others come to him, he walked the streets. Not in disguise, as Baltoth was said to do, but as himself and in regular clothes. As if he regarded being King as merely an unwanted responsibility that came up now and then. If Serna was to be believed, he had used this casual style of rule to know things that might have been hidden.


    Sahshir had once contemplated such a path.


    He''d had to settle for eavesdropping from windows under cover of darkness. Then, when given a given sum, he did the math himself and checked it against others. His concern was for what the people were doing, not who they were.


    As Nagos came back, he looked a bit stressed. "Sorry, sorry, the matter is concluded. I''ve gotten the two to settle the matter without punishment."


    "Telagix, could you play another tune," said Nagos. "Something more lively."


    The satyr bowed and removed the instrument from his lips. "Of course, King Nagos."


    And he began to play another tune.


    "How did you come to employ a satyr?" asked Sahshir, curious despite himself.


    "Telagix used to make a living playing on the Islands of Power," said Nagos. "I believe he worked for King Alcaides for a while. Though that was before I joined him. We worked together as performers for a time. Then some pirates attacked our ship and all that fell apart. Still, no helping that.


    "I freed him from McShore I became King and convinced him to come here."


    "He''s very skilled," said Narcissa, smiling. "I used to dance to this kind of music. Or, well, the other members of my troupe used to dance. I was pulled out of it before I came of age."


    "Do you want to show us?" asked Nagos.


    Sahshir was about to open his mouth to object. But Narcissa spoke first. "Well, I am a bit rusty. But I guess I could try."


    "We should discuss the war," said Sahshir. However, he drew the line of bringing that abhorrent culture into things. "Away from our officers, I mean."


    "Oh right, that whole thing," said Nagos, pretending to not remember it. "We ought to wait for the Emperor, shouldn''t we?" But he glanced at Serna.


    "I''ve gotten the reports from Admiral Yin. So it should be ready in time," said Serna. "The only question is how well it works."


    "What is it''?" asked Sahshir.


    "A new kind of weapon we''re devising," said Nagos. "Steam canons, as we call them. Serna figured out how to use steam to propel balls of stone and iron through the air like a catapult. Only far more deadly.


    "I think it might just win the war."


    "When did you start the development?" asked Narcissa.


    "Well, my father worked on it for some years and got down some general principles," said Serna. "But Nagos put us to work on creating it as soon as he became King.


    "He said that Sorn would start another war soon, and nobody believed him."


    "You can figure these things out if you just pay attention," said Nagos. "Sorn is always looking to expand, and Dinis is fading. So it was only a matter of time before things flared up. And all the warning signs were there. It''s just that everyone except me was asleep.


    "Serna, what was that letter Octavus sent to us about?" He sipped his drink.


    "Apparently, he plans to come personally to oversee the victory," said Serna.


    Nagos choked and nearly spat out his water. "Oversee the victory? What victory?"


    "I think he is talking about the battle we haven''t won yet," said Serna. "Sometimes Kings count their chickens before they hatch."


    Sahshir came to a realization. "You were a peasant?"


    "Hmm, well, no," said Serna. "Technically, I was a commoner, but my parents were training me to become a scribe. And Father was quite well-read and well-off. That''s a much higher rank, and we hoped we''d go up in the world." S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Why not join the military?" asked Narcissa.


    "She said she wanted to go up, not down," said Nagos.


    Sahshir felt mortally offended by that. "Down?"


    Nagos flinched as he saw Sahshir. "Well, um, you see, the Islands of Power took on a lot of Naminaen refugees after Kalthak was conquered by your people. So we''ve always believed the quill is much more important to a stable society than a sword."


    "Do you have a quill here?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Nagos, drawing one from a pocket.


    "Hand it to me," said Sahshir.


    Nagos obeyed. Sahshir stood up, threw the pen into the air, and cut it in two with his sword. Then, catching the pieces out of the air, he returned it and sat down as he sheathed his sword. "Warriors and farmers are the most important elements of society. If the artisan ceased to work, men could still fight and plow. If the scribe ceased to write, men could still fight and plow. But if farmers ceased to reap the fields, all would starve. And if the warrior ceased fighting, all would be consumed."


    "By other warriors, you mean," noted Serna. "If nobody fought, there wouldn''t be a need for warriors."


    "If we did not thirst, there would be no need for water," said Sahshir. "If we did not hunger, food would not be needed. But we do thirst, and we do hunger. So I do not see how that changes anything."


    "Focus, focus," said Nagos. "How are we going to beat Sorn? And are you going to pay me back for that quill?"


    "Truth be told, I planned to leave the matter to Raj Danal and your Admiral," said Sahshir. "If things go badly and I survive, I can blame it all on him. And given my own lack of skill with naval affairs, I fully expect I''ll botch it if I command.


    "As for a quill, surely you could have another one made in seconds."


    "It''s the principle of the thing," said Nagos. "I always make my own. You should-"


    "The war, Nagos," said Serna.


    Nagos sighed. "It''s not a good plan. Octavus is younger than me and really arrogant. If we don''t command, he might. You can tell from his letters he thinks he''s way more important than he actually is.


    "At least the ones that aren''t sent by his Mother."


    "If he has no talent for war, why would he be Emperor?" asked Sahshir, remembering the valor and ruthless power of the legions.


    "His mother put him on the throne after his father died of poison," said Nagos. "See, Octavus II was the one who really turned things toward Safara''s worship. Naturally, the Zigildrazians didn''t like that."


    "I remember Zarana had us celebrate that day once a year" said Narcissa.


    "Zarana?" asked Serna.


    "The woman who raised me," said Narcissa.


    "In any case, Octavus has never been the war, and when he ordered Zigilus destroyed, he wasn''t even there," said Nagos. "My guess is he wants to prove himself, and he assumes that he''ll win because he is invincible. Or something like that."


    "What is your point?" asked Sahshir.


    "You never want someone who thinks they are invincible in charge," said Nagos. "I''ve swabbed the decks of pirates who think like that, and they never last long. You need to be open to being wrong to be a good leader.


    "So, we''ve got to win this war before he ever gets here."


    "How can we do that?" asked Sahshir, surprised at his boldness. "Sorn has not even mobilized yet."


    "Easy," said Nagos. "We just set things up on the board, so no matter what happens, we can''t lose. That way, the Emperor won''t have a chance to screw everything up."


    "Baltoth has written of such strategies," said Sahshir, remembering his lessons. "They are powerful when wielded correctly. But, if misused, it can close your mind to opportunities."


    "Fine, so let''s chase some opportunities," said Nagos.


    "What do you have in mind?" asked Narcissa.


    "I say that since all of us are delegating authority, we get off this island," said Nagos. "We can head to some of my old friends and see if we can get them to help."


    "Nagos, you''re a King!" said Serna. "You can''t just drop everything and go talk with Pirate Kings! And they aren''t your friends."


    "Fine, fine, negotiate then," said Nagos. "If we can get some of them to help us, it could give us the edge we need to win."


    "It sounds like a worthwhile idea," said Sahshir. However, he said that considering that the war was, as things stood, hopeless. "But what assurances do you have they''ll listen?"


    "None," admitted Nagos with a shrug. "But it''s either that or eat noodles until Octavus finally arrives."


    "What if he gets here while you''re away," asked Serna. "He might take it as an insult."


    "Tell him we''re getting more allies," said Nagos. "What''s he going to do, punish us for giving him a better chance at victory?"


    Serna sighed. "... You''re not going to negotiate on this, are you?"


    "No," admitted Nagos.


    Sahshir shrugged. "Let us try for it."


    "Great," said Nagos. "Then tomorrow, we''ll set sail for adventure!"


    The door opened, and Admiral Yin entered. He kneeled and set a hand over his heart. "King Nagos, the Emperor''s flagship, has been sighted."


    "...Or not," said Nagos, with the air of a boy caught stealing apples. "You want to go to meet him?"


    "We have little choice," admitted Sahshir.


    If nothing else, Sahshir could meet the man or order Zigilus obliterated. And possibly offer him congratulations when Narcissa was out of earshot.

 Chapter Seven: The Emperor Arrives

    Nagos was now dressed in a red robe with a tight black vest around the chest. On his head was a black cap, and he looked very solemn on the docks. Before them, the Emperor''s flagship was coming into the harbor. On either side of them was an honor guard of blue-clad warriors with long spears. Sahshir had set up his Silent Guard just beyond them. The two factions were glaring at one another. And between them could be witnessed the ships of Dinis, a vast fleet arrayed outside the island. Most of the vessels were far larger than those used by Kalthak or Chaminus. Particularly Nagos'' craft, which were repurposed merchant vessels. They were made for speed and maneuverability with small crews.


    Sahshir had not been allowed to take a closer look at one. His Silent Guard had asked to be dispatched to check, but this was not allowed. Nagos had a right to keep secret his ships if he so desired, and Sahshir had no reason to suspect treachery.


    Enough to demonstrate his presence without appearing to be throwing his weight around. Glancing at Nagos, he noticed him fighting. "Serna, why do I have to wear this?" he whispered to Serna.


    "You know why," said Serna. "And not so loud. This is the Emperor of Dinis who is coming. Now, remember, Nagos, you have to prostrate yourself before him when he comes. That is the way things work here."


    "I know, I know," said Nagos, rolling eyes.


    Sahshir scoffed as the gangplank was put down, and guards marched down to clear the way. Serna looked at Sahshir. "Um, King Sahshir, are you planning to-"


    "No," said Sahshir flatly. "Kalthakians bow to their Lord and Master. They prostrate themselves before no one."


    "Octavus ordered my entire city destroyed," said Narcissa. "I''m not bowing to him."


    "Octavus is the Serpent''s Son," said Serna. "The head of the Safaran religion. You must at least show deference when you meet him, or it could be considered a grave insult."


    "In that case, I will communicate with him purely through letters," replied Sahshir. "No King of Kalthak has ever prostrated themselves before any ruler. Not even Baltoth is afforded such an honor, and he would not want it if he was."


    "Why are you so opposed to prostration?" asked Serna. "It''s a sign of respect."


    "To kneel or bow is a display of respect," said Sahshir. "To prostrate is to humiliate yourself for another. No worthwhile ruler would ever ask a loyal subordinate to do so. And if they were not loyal, it would be a lie. Kalthakians do not lie."


    "Except all the times they do," noted Nagos.


    Sahshir had to concede his point. "Kalthakians should not lie."


    "Fine," hissed Serna. "but if we get beheaded, this is your fault."


    "You don''t really intend to go through with this humiliation?" asked Sahshir, looking to Nagos.


    Nagos sighed. "It''s just lying down, Sahshir. And it could cause problems if we don''t do it. I''ve already explained things to the people."


    "King Sahshir, would it be too much to ask if perhaps you could relocate somewhere less obvious?" asked Serna. "If you mean to remain defiant, it would be better if it was not a public display."


    Sahshir conceded the point. "As you wish. Come, Narcissa."


    Turning, he went over to the shadows of a nearby building and faded into them. Narcissa looked for him and evidently could not find him. Then she sighed. "Fine, I wasn''t interested in meeting the bastard anyway."


    She did not stalk into the shadows. She flat-out took her guard and walked off. Sahshir remembered the corpses made by the legions. He concluded it was not an unjustified response. If the Emperor would make this display and then keep them waiting. There was little reason beyond pragmatism to humor him.


    And here they came. Sahshir saw an opulently dressed man come forward, clad in fine gold and red and flanked by two guards. He certainly wore enough obscenely expensive garments to be an Emperor. "I give you the Serpent''s Son, the Emperor of Dinis, He Who is Beyond Reproach, Emperor Octovus III himself, and the Empress Mother, Catria!"


    Was he the herald?


    And down came the procession from the plank. Eight magnificently dressed guards came down. They were surrounded by a litter that was shielded by silken curtains. Two figures could be seen within. So down it came, and Sahshir privately hoped the gangplank would break.


    It could cause problems, but such unbridled hubris would be a fitting reward. So down they came, and the guards fanned out. The curtain was pulled aside, and out of it, they came.


    Sahshir barely contained his laughter. He couldn''t stop himself from letting out a chuckle. So these were the divine beings that these idiots were obsessing over? The woman, well, she was beautiful after a fashion, but she had no muscle tone. She carried no weapon; even Nagos could have forced himself on her, were he so inclined. Yet she thought she was powerful from how she looked around at those assembled.


    Sahshir reminded himself that she might be powerful, even competent. Then he looked to the other. A boy about his age, very fair with almost angelic features. But the scornful, spoiled expression on his face ruined it. A sword was at his side, but he was obviously not trained for war. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    One dagger would be all it took.


    Well, probably not. And it would lead to a brutal massacre. Was this the Emperor who ordered an entire city obliterated? Surely not. Perhaps an imposter, or a bastard, or a lover?


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    Nagos and Serna were prostrating themselves before him. Now Sahshir didn''t feel like laughing so much for turning the war around. He only prayed the Emperor was delegating responsibility to someone with more experience. Perhaps a peasant who would understand men needed to eat. Or a merchant who understood that men would not work if they were not paid.


    The Prince, Sahshir, might have refused to think of him as an Emperor but knew all these things. But knowing and understanding were two very different things. With his pampered appearance, understanding was out of the question. It could be an illusion, of course. But if an Emperor presented himself like this, it did not bode well for his intelligence.


    His mother was a Haldrenian, wasn''t she? He could tell by her fair complexion. Some harlot taken into the previous Emperor''s harem. One who pulled enough strings to put Octovus on the throne? Or had it fallen naturally to him by virtue of hereditary rule? Either seemed possible.


    At any rate, the harlot and the Emperor moved forward, and the harlot spoke first. "Well, it''s good to see you remember your place this time, boy. Now, where is the Kalthakian?"Nagos looked up.


    "Answer her, peasant!" snapped Octovus, the voice of a petulant child. Was he really Sahshir''s age? He seemed there, but-


    "He''s over there," said Nagos, motioning to the shadows.


    Octovus looked are. "Where? I do not see him. Are your eyes as dull as your mind?"


    "No, he is right there," said Nagos.


    Had Nagos found where he was hiding? That was impressive.


    "I don''t have-" began Octovus.


    Sahshir emerged at a brisk walk. "I am King Abdul Sahshir of Kalthak."


    "And why do you skulk in the shadows like a thief," said the harlot.


    "It is the custom to prostrate oneself," said Sahshir, keeping his tone polite. Finally, he fell to one knee and set his sword at their feet. "This I cannot do, as it would betray Emperor Baltoth. Thus I chose to watch from the shadows."


    Octovus looked at him hard and raised a finger. As he did, one of the guards whispered something in his ear. "...Very well, then. Since you have chosen to serve the empire in your own way, I shall permit it."


    "Dearest one," said the harlot, "this is disrespectful. You are the Emperor and-"


    "Enough, Mother." said the Emperor. "I''m tired of listening to you wail. And making an issue of this will cause meaningless problems. Would you rather he take his ships and leave?" Sahshir somewhat revised his opinion; Octavus had common sense if little else. He sighed and looked at Serna. "Where is the food? I assume you had the sense to plan a banquet?"


    "We''ve been planning a war," said Nagos in a low whisper. "And your arrival was so swift that we had no time to make such plans."


    "Oh, have you?" asked Octovus. "Without my presence?"


    "Only your majesty''s presence was missing," said Sahshir. "Indeed, we hoped to tell you of Nagos'' strategy in person? Will you meet with us to plan the war?"


    Octovus shifted and seemed to realize he knew nothing of war and would probably make a fool of himself. "Yes, that will have to wait until after my party has rested. General Aridius has my trust and will see that they do not destroy our plans. You, girl, I am hungry. Bring us food."


    "I will arrange for it personally, your Majesty," said Serna.


    She stood and scurried off. Octovus then looked to Nagos, who remained silent. "And you, Nagos, is it? Think yourself lucky to escape without a whipping! Now get to your duties and do not make any more impertinent remarks!"


    "As you wish, your majesty," said Nagos, standing up.


    He and Sahshir left immediately and did not attend the banquet. Apparently, Serna had arranged one, making Nagos look like a fool. As they walked away, Nagos whistled, and Sahshir wondered at him. Here was someone of clear ability and talent. One who moments before had bowed and scraped before two wastes of flesh and soul.


    And he seemed to feel fine about it. "Have you no pride?"


    "Not really, no," admitted Nagos with a shrug. "If it means avoiding getting beaten up, I will do a lot. I don''t see the harm as long as it isn''t hurting anyone."


    "You are the representative of your nation. Nagos," said Sahshir. "To bow and scrape before one like him humiliates your blood."


    "Not really. If we picked a fight with Dinis, we''d lose badly," said Nagos. "I''m not all that worried. If you spend your life being cruel to people, it backfires. Octavus thinks the world revolves around him. And everyone will let him keep thinking that until they knife him."


    "Such words are dangerous, King Nagos," said a voice from the corner. "I recommend you speak them in a lower tone."


    Sahshir looked and saw the guard who had whispered to Octovus before. His helm was off and under one arm. He was a balding man with scars on his face. Sahshir turned to him and remembered. "General Aridius is it?"


    "Marius spoke highly of you, King Sahshir," said Aridius.


    "I was told you organized the retreat from Zigilus," said Sahshir, suspecting it to have been a route.


    "There was little choice in the matter," said Aridius. "The men routed, and it was all I could do to restore some order. It was a miracle any of them survived at all.


    "No one expected a god to appear in the flesh and begin summoning monstrosities from beyond the veil. But, frankly, I think my men should be congratulated that their courage lasted as far as it did.


    "Or so I said to get my promotion."


    "You were promoted?" asked Sahshir, surprised.


    "Of course," said Aridius. "The Empress Mother hates nothing more than a meritocracy. Generals who gain too much glory tend to use it. I was given my position because I succeeded in my mission but did not gain recognition.


    "I am to do all the work here and yield the credit unto the Emperor. Somewhat ironic.


    "Do you know what happened to Marius?" asked Sahshir, curious.


    "Well, I gave him a new assignment and rewarded him and his men," said Aridius. "Now, I''d be very interested to know your plan."


    "Nagos is the one who had it," said Sahshir.


    Nagos shrugged. "Oh, well, I figure that we''ll be more likely to win if we have many more ships."


    "Your powers of deduction astound me," said Aridius with a smile.


    "I have a rare gift," said Nagos. "So, I thought, if we could get more ships, we''d be able to win."


    "I''m having difficulty following," said Aridius. "But go on.""I could visit some of the old pirate hideouts I used to live on and ask them for help," said Nagos. Aridius blinked. "Do they owe you any favors?"


    "No," admitted Nagos. "But you''d be surprised what you can get by asking. Sahshir and I were about to go out and try our luck when the Emperor arrived."


    "And who will command the fleet?" asked Aridius.


    "Why not yourself, the trusted servant of the Emperor?" asked Nagos.


    "I meant that Kalthakian fleet," said Aridius. "As well as your own."


    "Admiral Yin can more than take care of things here," said Nagos.


    "A man named Raj Danal commands mine," said Sahshir. "He is organizing my ships for war and will be in charge of my navy."


    "And you don''t have a plan to remove him?" asked Aridius, surprised.


    "If I die, when I die, my Kingdom will go to my uncle," said Sahshir. "I accept this, and killing me would gain Raj nothing."


    "What makes you think your uncle won''t try to remove you?" asked Aridius.


    "I will be dead within a few years, regardless. So he need not stain his hands," said Sahshir.


    Aridius paused. "...Fair enough. There are certain liberties afforded by imminent death. Well, I suppose I''ll authorize this plan of yours. So long as you give me written authority over Raj. I want to be in command of the fleets."


    "I will give you that for all the good it will do you," said Sahshir, drawing out a scroll he had prepared. "Sign this. Do not expect us to accept suicidal orders, however. Kalthakians have a history of defying authority figures who misuse their power."


    "Far from it," said Aridius. "How many do you number?"


    "At present?" asked Sahshir. "An exact count has not been made of the men. Some will have died on the voyage. However, we have fifty-six ships with many battle-hardened men aboard them. More of them are being drawn up as we speak, mercenaries and adventurers, so it will have changed.


    "How many are on each ship varies, as does the size and qualities."


    "It may be best to gain an official count of such things," said Aridius. "Good organization and logistics are the marks of all great armies.


    "Our forces at present are six hundred warships with more being mobilized. Each one has a crew of three hundred. Both the crew itself and the marines who maintain it. For the most part, our battles are waged by boarding tactics. More can be drawn up; however, much of the fleet is watching Babarassia to the east. They may move against us, even in their weakened state."


    "My fleet is sixty in number," said Nagos. "With a crew of sixty crew and forty marines each. But Admiral Yin and Serna have given us some advantages. It should make them worth a lot more than that.


    "But if we can get a coalition together, we''ll have many more ships than that."


    Aridius nodded. "Then we are in a stronger position than expected.


    "The Emperor will no doubt be pleased. I wonder if this coalition can be arranged. I suppose we should drink to mutual cooperation."


    "I''m not taking orders from a Dinisian General," said a voice. Sahshir looked up and saw Narcissa standing with crossed arms. Oh, right, she was here. "The last time I saw those legions, they were slaughtering everyone in my home."


    Sahshir had no intention of negotiation. "Narcissa, you are my subordinate. Your forces are under my authority. I command that they cooperate with Dinis, and you will do so.


    "Need I remind you, the fate of both our homes hangs in the balance."


    Narcissa held his gaze, then sighed. "...Fine then. I''ll pass the word along."


    "We''ll make the appropriate arrangements," said Sahshir. "Then get to my ship."


    "I have something better, thanks," said Nagos.


    He would say no more than that. It was made clear when they got to the shore.

 Chapter Nine: On to Adventure

    It was a beach of white sand on the island''s far side, dotted with palm trees and many white stones. They were rounded by years of the tide rushing in them out. There were trees all over this island, and many were beautiful. Sahshir saw several deer in the woods and wondered if they would make good hunting. It was a moot point, of course.


    As they came onto the white beach, Sahshir saw no sign of any ship. Narcissa looked slightly annoyed by this, shifting her axe as she walked.


    "Why are you taking us out here to this beach, Nagos?" asked Narcissa. "I don''t see any ships."


    "Yeah, well, Sheltath doesn''t like coming up near ships," said Nagos. "He''s always afraid he''ll crush them. So now I have to him from the deeps." And standing near the edge, now clad in simple orange and brown sailor gear, he took a deep breath.


    "So, is there some kind of ritual you have to-" began Narcissa.


    Nagos snatched a stone and hurled it, skipping across the waves a dozen times. "Hey, Sheltath! Get out here!


    "Sheltath!"


    "I''ll take that as a no," said Narcissa.


    Up came Sheltath like a great serpent, and his scaly back stretched to sea. He lowered his head onto the sand so his eyes aligned with Nagos'' face. One of his nostrils was the size of their heads. His breathing was a rush of heated air, but Nagos didn''t flinch. "You have called, and I have come forth, Master."


    "Sheltath old buddy. I need a ride out to sea," said Nagos. "We''ve got to get some places quick, and the ships aren''t going to do any good."


    "As you command, you may ride upon my back," said Sheltath. "I shall swim to the ends of the earth if you so choose."


    "Great, we''ll start with the island of Beyofong. That''s closest," said Nagos.


    They quickly scaled onto Sheltath''s back, which was quite difficult to manage in high heels. Sahshir had no trouble, of course, and neither did Nagos. No sooner had they gotten settled, Sheltath surged off. He moved smoothly through the water at a truly immense pace. His great head rising out of the sea sheltered the wind of their passing. Nagos had no trouble keeping his feet, while Sahshir narrowly kept his feet at first. Meanwhile, Narcissa nearly fell off.


    "Beyofong," said Narcissa, propping herself up on an axe. "That''s a strange name."


    "It''s Naminean," said Nagos. "Chaminus and MacShore were named by other people. Some of our people fled there to try and preserve the culture. They aren''t really around anymore, though. With all the invasions, they mostly became one culture or another. "Serna''s family were descendants, actually."


    "I think culture is just a word for people''s habits, though, and I don''t think one habit is better.


    "So I don''t care."


    "This island is very near your own," said Sahshir. "How might they have not been raiding your shores?" Was war all he ever thought about?


    "Well, see, I pay them a fine to not raid my merchant''s vessels," said Nagos. "Easier that way."


    "Couldn''t you just kill them?" asked Narcissa. It seemed the best question to ask.


    "Eh, not really," admitted Nagos with an uncomfortable shrug. "The island is very defensible; a long time ago, it was a colony of Naminus, just like my Kingdom. It took a thousand men weeks to seize it when it had only a fraction of the defenders. It''s a natural harbor, sheltered from the wind. That fort up there is practically untakable.


    "You can shoot out at anyone coming toward the island from it too. This is where the last Emperor of Namina made his stand."


    "What are you talking about? The Emperors of Namina ceased to exist with their island," said Sahshir.


    "How many written records do you have of this?" asked Nagos.


    "In Kalthak, we pass down our history orally," said Sahshir. "Naminus fled to our lands after their decadence led to their destruction. There they corrupted our people into the same sin."


    "Right, that makes sense," said Nagos. "Well, the records I have to tell a different story. They say that Naminus conquered Kalthak and more or less ruled the place. When Namina was destroyed by the waves, the Empire survived. Then they settled the refugees in the islands of power.


    "Of course, the rampant use of sorcery and demon-summoning got out of control. This was right about when Baltoth was staging his war on Valranor."


    "I know," said Sahshir.


    "I don''t; this is all new to me," said Narcissa. Her education had mostly focused on demonology, which had been, thus far, useless.


    "Well, a man named Roo Chadar saw the whole thing coming," said Nagos. "He led many people to the islands of power to resettle there. As a result, they took in many of the refugees after the Fall.


    "Eventually, Roo Chadar established a dynasty based in Chaminus. But it was always a shadow of the original Namina. Some of our records say that ancient Namina was a fragment of a much larger empire.


    "There are other worlds with places called Namina. It''s more a culture than a nation. And my culture is very different from theirs."


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    "How did you become a vassal of Dinis?" asked Sahshir.


    "I actually know this part," said Narcissa. "It was taught by my teacher, Illaryus. Dinis was mostly known as a barbarian homeland like Kalthak for years and years." Narcissa was pleased to know something Sahshir did not.


    "Ahem," said Sahshir flatly.


    "No offense meant," said Narcissa. "I just, well, literacy isn''t exactly common."


    "Some taken," replied Sahshir.


    "Anyway, Dinis didn''t exist then," said Narcissa. "Just feuding city-states. But then Baltoth seduced a serpent spirit, and it bore the Goddess Safara. Lady of Love and Hunger. Or it might have been a regular serpent.


    "Stories vary."


    "How are those connected, anyway?" muttered Nagos. "I''ve never seen the appeal."


    "Does it matter?" asked Narcissa. "The point is, Safara grew up and was incredibly charming and charismatic. She could get just about anyone to do anything. Eventually, she started establishing an empire where Dinis is today. Any time someone invaded, she simply threw open the gates and seduced the leadership. Within a month or so, she took control of the new regime.


    "She actually established Dinis in full just through this. The Naminean Kings chose to submit before she stole their free will. Today, it is taught as a textbook example of classic succubi tactics. Or at least it was."


    "And then she crossed Baltoth, and all her powers were for naught," said Sahshir. Which was what he was going to say all along. It was what he always said. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Ah, there''s the island now," said Nagos.


    "Already?" asked Sahshir, looking out.


    Sure enough, Beyofong was rising out of the sea. It was more like several mountains coming from the ocean than an island. The entire island was surrounded by sheer cliffs. There was only one area where one could get onto the rocky surface. A fortress stood near the peak of one mountain. It had high walls, and around it was a town of stone, and on the wall were patrolling men with bows and arrows.


    There were several other towns visible, despite the sparse vegetation. The port itself was guarded heavily.


    "What do they eat here?" asked Narcissa.


    "This is a pirate town," said Nagos. "They buy and sell and raid for everything they get. So actually, I supply a large part of the food. It''s my best source of income."


    The fortress was not like the architecture of the Namineans. On the contrary, it was blockier and less elegant. "Who were the besiegers that took this place?" asked Sahshir.


    "Oh, they were Sornians," said Nagos. "Well, actually, they were Harlenorians at the time. Or maybe Antionians."


    "What do you mean by that?" asked Narcissa.


    "Well, Sorn used to be a colony of a Kingdom called Antion," said Nagos. "And Antion used to be part of a Kingdom called Harlenor, or Harlenor United as they call it these days. It was founded by Anoa the Bright.


    "Don''t you know this?"


    "I was trained as an entertainer and then a warrior. Unfortunately, history isn''t my strong suit," admitted Narcissa.


    "Well, there are three major Harlenorian Kingdoms," said Nagos. "Haldren, Escor, and Antion. But there are also a bunch of secondary kingdoms that sprouted off them. Sorn is the strongest of these and throws off the Harlenorians.


    "Well, Estal is pretty important, too, but, they are mostly used for raiding."


    "Calisha liberated them," said Sahshir.


    "No, it didn''t," said Nagos. "Calisha invaded the place and took it over so they could set up a second front. But Erik the Voyager led an army through the Road of Ancient Stone in the Ghost Mountains and took it back. He didn''t have the manpower to hold Sorn, though, with the war going badly.


    "So he put a notable merchant, Suvvest, in charge.


    "Suvvest played both sides of the war and managed to remain neutral. Antion didn''t have to worry about a second front. And Calisha didn''t have to worry about raids for a little while. It became a buffer state."


    "I don''t even know what half of those words mean, Nagos," said Narcissa as they drew near the shore.


    "Erik the Voyager is a famed explorer-" began Nagos.


    "I know who Erik the Voyager is; everyone knows him," said Narcissa. "I meant the Road of Ancient Stone, the Ghost Mountains, and Suvvest."


    "Oh, okay," said Nagos. "Well, the Road of Ancient Stone is an underground dimension below the ground. It reaches all over but is stronger in the north. The Ghost Mountains divide Sorn from Antion except for a narrow pass.


    "That''s why nobody has ever taken Sorn back. They have a chokepoint. The only other way in would require navigating around the Middle Mountains. You''d need to be on the other side of the world.


    "Or on a boat. Most people who invade Sorn do it by sea."


    Sheltath slowed as he neared the ships, and the guards were calling out ahead. Apparently, they had been noticed. "What is our plan once we get here?" Inquired Sahshir.


    "Well, I''ll introduce you to the Pirate King, Asrif, and we''ll talk to him," said Nagos.


    "Is he Harlenorian?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, sort of. Not really," said Nagos. "I mean, he is descended from Harlenorian stock, and they believe in the heritage. But it''s a distant one.


    "If we can get him to help, we''ll see the other power here, King Alcaides."


    "And how are we going to convince him to help?" asked Narcissa.


    "Well, I figure we can just tell him that Sorn is a problem, and he''ll be able to make money robbing the place," said Nagos. "I pay him money to not attack my ships. Then, if Sorn takes over, they''ll try to hunt him down."


    "Doesn''t Dinis try to hunt him down?" asked Sahshir.


    "Sure, but they''re not good at it," said Narcissa. "The Legions of Dinis are unstoppable. You could send a god after them, and they''d hold their ground. But they aren''t as good on the sea."


    Nagos nodded. "I heard that Namina used to have all kinds of great ships. I wish I could have seen them."


    "Wish in vain," said Sahshir as Sheltath clambered onto the shore.


    A group of armed men clad in leather with small shields came forward. But their spears were not pointed at them, but up. They looked like they were receiving them. Either they had been expected, or this was a common event.


    A swarthy man with one eye came forward. "Nagos, why are you here now? We''ve heard some rumors."


    "Hey Timia, been a while," said Nagos, stepping forward. "So, you ever get that promotion you were looking for?"


    "No, my ship was destroyed by that bastard Alcaides, and my captain went down with it," said Timia. "I had to swim to shore and start over. I''m working my way back up now, no one wants to keep an experienced warrior as a common sailor, but it''s been hard.


    "What are you doing here?"


    "Oh, I''ve gone to try and recruit you guys for a war," said Nagos.


    "Really?" asked Timia. "Nagos, you do realize we don''t fight wars. Of course, we raid and plunder, privateer if we must, but we don''t fight the wars of nations."


    "I know, but I''m hoping I can talk with Asrif and work something out," replied Nagos.


    "He''ll see you, but I doubt you''ll change any minds," said Timia.


    "Trust me," said Nagos.


    Timia sighed. "Do whatever you want. The castle is still in the same place. Who are your companions?"


    "King Abdul Sahshir of Kalthak and his vassal," said Nagos, voice a preening parody.


    Timia eyed him. "And you''ve come here by yourself?"


    "I fear no betrayal from you, pirate. Gods are my prey," replied Sahshir.


    Timia smirked. "Well, as boasts go, it''s passable. Go on ahead."


    Soon they were led through the harbor and saw merchants selling their wares or bartering. This island was used as a stopping point for vessels. Likely a good place to harbor as well. That was a valuable thing with all the feuding lords in the Islands of Power.


    "Are you sure about being so casual about all this?" asked Narcissa.


    "I address people like people," said Nagos. "No point in letting titles get in the way of talking."


    Narcissa had to admit she liked Nagos.

 Chapter Ten: King Asrif

    The journey up the mountain was challenging, to say the least, with high slopes and loose stones even on the path. They would see mountain villages on small plateaus here and there, each well-defended by walls. They were mostly low, though, and less well-guarded than some that Sahshir had seen.


    There were also a large number of fields planted in the soil of the mountain. It seemed quite rich in some places, and people were tending it. Yet there were also signs of brothels, forges, and other things. Obviously, King Asrif had either built or claimed a formidable island. One of many that dotted the Islands of Power.


    Sorn would have difficulty taking such a place.


    "That''s the usual Harlenorian style," said Nagos. "Everything has to have a wall around it. You''re only considered an authentic village once you have one.


    "That and until everyone is trained in using a spear."


    "It is a wise policy," said Sahshir. "The enemy of Baltoth is not without virtues."


    "So everyone knows how to fight," said Narcissa.


    "If you want to be part of society, you must be willing to serve in the wars," said Nagos. "Though Antion has been moving away from that. In Chaminus, we prefer to focus on being artists and industry.


    "Our military is small, but they train professionally and get a wage. Plus, my Father got them a lot of good armor. So we''ll probably be able to handle things."


    "Replacing them will be difficult," noted Sahshir.


    "If I have to replace a large part of my army, something has gone seriously wrong," said Nagos. "Those guys all have families. So I don''t want them to die if I can help it.


    "Actually, I don''t even want my enemies to die; they have families too. I''d take it if we could figure out this without a war."


    "You could surrender and let them enslave you," noted Narcissa, shifting her bare shoulders. Cowardice and slavery was a way to avoid conflict.


    But not an honorable way.


    "Let''s talk about that if we lose," laughed Nagos.


    Sahshir was used to such rocky ground, and Narcissa had some experience. But the road was rocky, and their guards moved at a rapid pace that they could not match. Nagos seemed to have the worst of it but pretended otherwise well.


    At last, they were ushered through the gates into the walls of the slanted roofed structure. Now that he was nearer, Sahshir recognized the designs. He''d seen paintings of these grey stone-style of buildings within the palace. Most of them had been on fire, but he saw how formidable they were here. Far stronger than the more recent construction of the walls outside.


    As they were led into the keep, Sahshir calculated how best to attack such a fortification. The ground was too rocky to dig through. Launching a direct assault would be uphill and exposed to slings and arrows. Siege equipment would require more work to set up.


    Whoever took this fortress would be a formidable warrior indeed. Even with overwhelming force, there was nowhere closer to land than the shore.


    How had a pirate gotten it?


    "Has this place ever been attacked?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, it was sieged once or twice," said Nagos. "And raided more than that. And there''s always a few scuffles here and there in pirate towns. The Babarassians has always been a problem to the east. And before King Asrif took up residence, this island was ruled by Princess Nyx and her entourage. She was an Amazon who built her own Kingdom and was even officially recognized by Antion.


    "But she was betrayed and defeated by Raynald De Chevlon, and Lord Dunmoore took the island. It was then sold off to Asrif, who made his colony. After that, Calisha surrounded the place and laid siege for six years on behalf of Princess Nyx. But Asrif held out until Argath Marn and Tanith Telus raids forced them to withdraw.


    "Though it was more several sieges."


    "I remember my mentor, Illaryus, taught me about Nyx," said Narcissa. "Zigildrazia was very unhappy about that. So how did Raynald end up working for her anyway?"


    "Well, that was before I could talk," said Nagos. "Possibly before I was born.


    "From what I hear, Raynald helped Nyx out of a tough spot when he was younger than us. He was a social outcast, and nobody thought he was going anywhere. A lot of his family mocked him.


    "She took his help, realized he was politically useless, and distanced herself from him. He took it personally because he spent years getting into her inner circle. All so he could open the gates of that castle and stab her in the back. Tanith Telus is his student, you know.


    "That guy scares me, and I''ve never even met him. He lives for revenge. Did you know he killed sixteen people just to settle grudges in two hours? He was related to some of them, and he challenged them to duels.


    "Nearly wiped out the nobility of Blackfear overnight."


    "Sounds like you, Sahshir," said Narcissa.


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    "It sounds like one I could have been," said Sahshir.


    "His other student seemed like a pretty good person, though," said Nagos. "William Gabriel. I met him on a voyage to Blackfear a little while ago.


    "He spends a lot of time healing people and wants to help them. Though he''s got a vengeful streak a mile wide. I guess he picked that up from Raynald. I think you''d like him, Narcissa."


    "Of course, he has a vengeful streak," said Narcissa. "Harlenorians live for revenge.


    "They''ve been waging the same crusade for millennia."


    "Not really," said Nagos. "All those wars have their own reasons for being fought. But Anoa IX makes for a good story, so people tend to assume it''s about him.


    "The truth it, wars happen for many reasons, and you can''t really avoid them all the time.


    "You just have to stop the ones you can and fight the ones you have to."


    "How many wars have you been in?" asked Sahshir.


    "This will be the first," said Nagos. "But I spent enough time on pirate ships to know a thing or two. So I''m hoping I don''t botch it."


    "I recommend prayer," said Sahshir. "It helps one focus."


    "I might try that," said Nagos.


    "How did Asrif get control of this island?" asked Narcissa.


    "We voted him in," said a pirate. "Asrif was made King by vote after leading us to riches and glory."


    They went through double doors and into a torchlit throne room. At the far end was a throne, and upon it sat a large man. He held a massive claymore of Harlenorian make between his hands, almost as long as he was tall. His face was tan, he had a tawny brown beard and hair and a haggard face, and his fingers were covered in scars.


    Beside him was a priestess of Safara. Sahshir could tell by her brilliant red hair and tan skin. They had a remarkable resemblance to her goddess, strangely enough. As though they were physically becoming her.


    Nagos paid her no heed as she walked through. "Asrif! It''s been years!"


    "Nagos?" asked Asrif. "What in the blazes are you doing here? I thought you''d returned home."


    "Well, I have a Sornian Fleet coming after me at the moment," said Nagos. "Or possibly the island near me. They hope to take over the last remnant of the Dinis Empire at sea."


    "Well, why are you coming to me?" asked Asrif, "Unless you plan on paying us, I don''t think we have any business."


    "Well, I would," said Nagos. "Thing is, the Emperor is sort of an idiot."


    "What''s your point?" asked Asrif.


    "Well, I think he''ll botch the defense," said Nagos. "And if I''m going to have my first defense botched, I want some help. So I figured I''d ask you to gather your fleets and unite your banner with King Alcaides''s. From there, you can help me destroy Sorn''s power in the Islands of Power."


    "I suppose you always did have a sense of humor, Nagos." laughed Asrif.


    Nagos smiled. "I wasn''t joking. I''d much rather pay you to leave my ships alone, as would Dinis. It''s easier that way. But Sorn is of the same descent as you; they''re Harlenorians in their blood.


    "If Sorn destroys Dinis'' hold here, their next order of business will be hunting you down so they don''t interfere."


    "And if we destroy Sorn, the reverse will be true," noted Asrif.


    "Maybe, but Dinis is no good at naval warfare," said Nagos. "And Octavus is an idiot. Imagine how high your reputation will soar if you defeat the Sorn? What if, right afterward, crush the fleets of Dinis."


    "Well, that does sound like a fun afternoon," said Asrif. "But why should I unite with Alcaides? I hate the man, and he hates me far more for killing his brother."


    "Because you won''t be able to defeat Dinis or Sorn by yourself," said Nagos. "You and Alcaides are the great neutral powers of this region. So if you can unite for an afternoon, you could probably beat up just about anyone.


    "As long as you''re hating each other, you won''t achieve anything." This Sahshir privately doubted. Asrif seemed a mighty King in his own right, and if Alcaides was his equal, they would be a great asset. But there were many such Kings in the Islands of power, and they rose and fell like the tide.


    There were others with such power.


    Just not others that Nagos knew personally.


    "The boy is correct, King Asrif." said the priestess of Safara, stepping forward in what was almost a slither.


    Asrif looked up. "Sorpenta, you''ve spoken. This is unusual."


    "Hey, Sorpenta, I haven''t seen you for a while!" said Nagos. "How is the church going? Have you convinced people to start feeding themselves to the serpents of the east yet?"


    "We have attracted followers," said Sorpenta. "Few of such devotion as that, however."


    "Why do you support this plan, Sorpenta?" asked Asrif.


    "My lady, Safara, desires all creatures to be united as one in her," said Sorpenta. "I have read the signs, and she has spoken to me. If you unite with King Alcaides, you will win a great victory on the sea and a greater one by land.


    "In so doing, you will become part of a greater power. And that power shall spread the love of Safara across all these islands."


    "Very pleasant, but I do not want to be part of anything, however great," said Asrif. "I am King of my own domain. I am a descendant of Harlenor, but I am not of Harlenor."


    "We are all mice in a world of serpents, Asrif," said Sorpenta. "We may escape them for a time, but if we are not devoured in life, we shall be consumed in death. Therefore, in time, we all must die and be reborn anew.


    "All that is ours to choose is which serpent we are devoured by.


    "You may choose the serpent of the past and be hunted down little by little. Or you may choose a greater serpent that surpasses all. Love itself shall be spread worldwide, bringing all into the fold should you aid them. And you shall be among those who bring forth its greatness, held in high renown and honor. And held close to the bosom of Safara in the end."


    "Wonderful," scoffed Asrif. "Would anyone like to make an argument that gives a clear-cut answer?"


    "All men die, Asrif," said Sahshir. "And those who die later see their achievements surpassed. Or they watch the generations fall into complacency. If you go into battle now and win great victories, you will know glory eternal in history. If you remain here and do as you have been doing, you will be merely a footnote."


    Asrif looked at Sahshir and met his gaze. "The King of Eastern Kalthak, who saw Typhos rise?"


    "The same," said Sahshir.


    Asrif laughed. "Well, that makes some semblance of sense. But, Sorpenthra, get out of here. Your presence galls me."


    Sorpenta bowed low and departed. Nagos blinked, then looked to Asrif. "Why do you tolerate her if you dislike her so much?"


    "It was part of the deal," said Sahshir. "She wanted Nagos to go and become King, and I wasn''t willing to do it. So she offered to have the Cult of Safara formally recognize my dominion and set up shrines here. Of course, doing so means Dinis will have difficulty justifying an invasion. Though it also means she has a jumping-off point to convert people.


    "I don''t like her or her cult. But the deal has worked out splendidly for both of us, so I''ll not break it.


    "I''ll consider things, Nagos.


    "Would you care for some hospitality in the meantime?"


    "Sure, we''ll spend the night, and then we''ll set out to find King Alcaides next," said Sahshir."I recommend you talk with Sorpenthra about that," said Asrif. "She sends missionaries to various islands. At first, they came back in pieces. But now, there is a standing practice not to attack her ships.


    "What are your plans for this anyway?"


    "Well, for now, I just want to get everyone together on this," said Nagos. "The way I see it, the battle will probably be at Mcshore. So if we can just get there in time for the fight, we''ll be fine."


    "Don''t think I''ve committed to anything, Nagos." said Asrif, "I like you, but I''m not convinced we''re destined for victory."


    "Don''t worry. Things''ll all work out no matter what we do," said Nagos with a shrug and a big smile.


    As they were led to their rooms, Narcissa and Sahshir waited until they were safely within. Then Narcissa looked to Nagos. "Are you sure he will help us?"


    "Sure?" asked Nagos. "No. But I don''t like to make assumptions about people. I''m sure he''ll do what he thinks is best. People usually do that.


    "So, Narcissa, how many battles have you been in?"


    "Just one," admitted Narcissa.


    "I believe the siege of Zigilus should be several battles," said Sahshir.


    "No, there were a bunch of engagements. But they were all the same battle," said Narcissa.


    "Eh, there really isn''t much of a difference," said Nagos. "Different people think different words mean different things. It doesn''t really matter, though."


    "How are you so casual about all this?" asked Narcissa. "You know he could have us all killed? We should have come here with our fleet in case of treachery."


    "Sure, that would make sure we were safe, but it''d make convincing him harder," said Nagos.


    "What do you mean?" asked Narcissa.


    "If I came here with your ships, I''d just be regarded as a puppet," said Nagos. "And if I came here with my ships, he''d think I was strong-arming him, or I''d gotten arrogant.


    Coming here on a standard ship means he just regards me as Nagos.


    "I like talking to people as a person, not a King."


    "You are the King. That is your identity," said Sahshir.


    "My identity is Nagos," said Nagos. "The word King " is something people added to the front for convenience.


    "I just hope that Serna is doing alright."


    "I expect she is doing well," said Sahshir. "To be blunt, she seems more capable of navigating around Emperor''s than yourself."


    "I know," said Nagos. "But as long as we''re out here, I can''t do anything if she needs help."


    "We''ve only been gone a day," said Narcissa. "I''m certain the Emperor will have plenty of responsibilities at that time."


    "He didn''t seem the kind to seek responsibilities out," noted Nagos. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Emperor''s have responsibilities whether they want them or not," said Sahshir.


    "There isn''t any point in worrying about it," said Nagos, lying on his bedroll. "What happens will happen. I''ll deal with it when we get back. Who knows, maybe we''ll all become friends in the end."


    "Don''t count on it," said Sahshir.


    Privately, however, Sahshir wondered if the war was as hopeless as he''d thought.

 Chapter Eleven: The Hurricane of Will

    A few hours later, the three of them were led through the narrow halls to a door with banners on either side. The banners each depicted a black shark on a violet background. The light sources here came from spheres that channeled energies of the Sun Spirit. Though, how Asrif had gotten so many of them was a mystery to Sahshir.


    "Here is the war room." said the guard. "Don''t raise your voice; it tends to echo.


    The door was opened, and they entered a room with a high ceiling. It was lit by a window above that let light in through a grating. It must have gotten wet when it rained, and Sahshir saw a cistern below it. Asrif was standing on the far side of a large, circular table. With him were his officers, sitting in silence. Before him, on the table, was a sword in a sheathe of red leather.


    "So you''re here then, Nagos," said Asrif. "We''ve discussed the matter; I''ll agree to your plan. No sense in letting the Sorn get too strong. But I want to have an understanding that I get the first pick of all the loot."


    "That may be kind of difficult to promise," said Nagos. "See, I have to get Alcaides on board too. And he''ll want the first pick of the loot as well. And if I tell him that you''re getting the first pick of the loot-"


    "I don''t see that we even need Alcaides," said Asrif.


    "Do you really want to go to war and leave yourself open to him?" asked Nagos. "He might side with Sorn."


    "As appealing as it sounds, killing him in battle," said Asrif, "it would be bad for business. Alright, so what can you offer me?"


    "Well, I''m sure we can arrange for the Emperor to compensate you," said Nagos. "I mean, with all the gilded armor his men wear, I''m sure you can arrange a proper reward."


    "And if he doesn''t reward us?" asked Asrif, voice hard.


    Nagos looked nervous. "Well, then, I guess I could use the treasury to compensate you. I mean, it probably won''t be enough on its own, but with the loot from any Sorn ships we seize, it could be-"


    "Nevermind, forget it," said Asrif.


    Nagos blinked. "You don''t want payment?"


    "I want payment from the Emperor," said Asrif. "You''re doing this on his orders, so I''ll iron things out with his men once we talk. There will plunder enough from the war, and checking Sorn is in all our interest.


    "Now, take this." He drew up the sheathed sword and tossed it to Nagos, who narrowly dropped it. "Get your dragon ready for departure. Now leave us; I will speak with King Sahshir."


    Nagos nodded. Quickly he departed. Sahshir nodded to Narcissa, who also left. Finally, Asrif looked at him. "I''ve heard about you, King Sahshir. They say you dueled Garacel himself in single combat and nearly won."


    "I fought him twice," said Sahshir. "And I won the first."


    Asrif looked at him hard. "Why are you here? You can''t be fond of Dinis as a nation. They are Calisha''s eastern rivals."


    Sahshir looked at one gloved hand. Two fingers were gone, lost in Zigilus. "Dinis is failing. Sorn is not. And the enemy of my enemy is my friend." S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Not in my experience," said Asrif. "That boy, Nagos, is far too good-natured for his own good. His prospering is one of the few things that maintain my faith in the universe. If he dies, I will seek someone to blame."


    Sahshir nodded. "I assure you, Nagos will face no harm from me."


    "Good," said Asrif. "Now, you''d better meet him before he barges back in here."


    Sahshir nodded respectfully. Then he turned and returned, finding Narcissa helping Nagos gird his sword. Nagos glanced up. "So what was all that about?"


    "The King wished to discuss something with me," said Sahshir. "I won''t speak of it here."


    "Oh," said Nagos. "Well, anyway, that''s one island out of the way. And if I know Asrif, he''ll want to get all his friends involved. Now we just need to get Alcaides in on it as well."


    "And how are you going to do that?" asked Narcissa.


    "I have no idea," admitted Nagos. "Let''s head for the harbor."


    The trip down was actually worse than the trip up. There was something inherently unpleasant about scaling down a slope. When climbing up, if you fell, you''d fall onto the rock and slide a bit. On the other hand, if one fell here, they''d just keep falling.


    It made it nerve-wracking, even on the road.


    "How do you always wear a sword like this?" asked Nagos. "This thing is heavy."


    "I have been training to use and wear weapons since I was seven," said Sahshir. "Have you never fought?"


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    "No," said Nagos, "Asrif always had me do things other than fighting when I was on his ship. Generally, when I ran into a swordmaster, my job was to duck for cover and let someone else fight.


    "Never had to fight anyone, just watch and help with things."


    They came to the pier after a long period. Here they found Sheltath resting his head on the pier. Nagos walked forward. "Hey, Sheltath! Sheltath! Wake up, lazybones!" And he tapped the dragon on the head.


    "You know that his armor is thick enough to block ballista bolts, don''t you?" asked Sahshir. "A few stones aren''t going to do anything."


    "Shows what you know," said Nagos. "Sheltath is a special kind of gold dragon that lives in the ocean. He is descended from one of the Sons of the Rebirther who went to the oceans to lay his eggs instead of into Calisha. Throughout a few generations, they were able to live completely underwater."


    "I am," said Sheltath, opening his eyes. "And lighter than my armor is, it is not so thin that mere bolts can break it." Then he drew back and bared his back. They quickly gathered onto it, and Sheltath swam out into the sea. As he moved, he sent a saltwater splash around him, even as he glanced back. One eye peered at Nagos. "Where to now?"


    "To the island of King Alcaides, the Satyr!" said Nagos.


    Sahshir flinched at that despite himself. "Satyrs? Alcaides is a satyr?"


    Nagos glanced up. "Yeah, what''s wrong with that?"


    "Satyrs are wild and vicious brutes who eat the flesh of sentients and bathe in blood," said Sahshir. "Are we certain we want them on our side?"


    "Would you rather they be on Sorn''s side?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes," said Sahshir flatly, remembering stories of the way they treated captives. "They eat those they capture on the battlefield."


    "I read that satyrs were loyal servants of Zigildrazia in many worlds," said Narcissa.


    "Was that supposed to help your argument?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Narcissa. "Although, maybe it doesn''t."


    How pleasing that she had some capacity to question the wicked god that had enslaved the will of her people.


    "Then it is decided," said Nagos.


    Sahshir would have grumbled. But Nagos seemed to have a remarkable ability to make these things work. So he held his tongue.


    They shot through the water for half a day, and the constant wind was a relief from the beating sun. Soon an island came within sight. Several lights, actually, and as they drew near, Sahshir saw a storm.


    "There is a storm waiting for us," said Sheltath.


    "What storm?" asked Narcissa. "How do you know?"


    "The clouds, obviously," said Nagos. "And with this wind, we''ll be caught in it. Sheltath, are there any islands or shelters you can see?"


    "Why isn''t the storm moving?" asked Sahshir, eyeing the black clouds in the distance. "They ought to be coming toward us."


    "There are ships beneath that storm," said Sheltath.


    "Ships?" asked Nagos as they drew near. "What kind of ship would ride such a storm?"


    Sahshir closed his eye and drew his sword. Sensing outward, he felt a presence. It was cold and powerful. The sorcerer who had summoned the winds before. "One with a man of power upon it," said Sahshir, eyes opening. There, he beheld a ship within the waters. "Bring us closer; we''ll have the chance to win this war yet."


    "Why?" asked Nagos.


    "So I can kill those on board," said Sahshir, noting only one vessel. "Garrick is there, and he''s already sunk several of my ships."


    "Sheltath, take us toward the island," said Nagos.


    "Why?" asked Narcissa.


    "Do you really want to start a fight with an entire ship and a guy who commands the winds at sea?" asked Nagos.


    On they went, surging toward the island. It was a small place, and the winds were howling around them. As Sheltath halted in the shallows. Sahshir leaped off and plunged into the cold water while striding ashore. With him were Nagos and Narcissa, Nagos drew his sword. Reaching into his pocket, Nagos drew out a strange tube and extended it. From there, he put it to his eye.


    "What is that?" asked Sahshir, glancing at the barren island and seeing some rocks. They had barnacles growing on them, and there were many shells on the beaches.


    "A spyglass," said Nagos. "Look through this."


    Sahshir came and took it, before gazing through. Through it, he saw the ship. On the top deck was a smaller, gray-skinned elf with black hair. In his hands was a massive sword as tall as he was. The winds were howling around it and then spreading out to create clouds around them.


    "Those clouds aren''t breaking," said Nagos, eyes narrowing. "There is no rain coming from there. And other clouds are coming toward us now.


    "What is going on here?"


    "My guess is that Garrick is using the winds to create a powerful storm," said Sahshir. "Maybe to destroy our ships while they are in the harbor. If he could send it into the harbor, it could wreck our fleets before the war begins."


    "How could he summon so many winds?" asked Narcissa.


    "I don''t know," said Sahshir. "Something must be done."


    "Don''t worry. Chaminus has enchantments that prevent that kind of storm from flowing over it," said Nagos. "We didn''t want a repeat of Namina.


    "It keeps the winds in order."


    "Nagos, we''re fighting at Macshore." said Narcissa, "Our fleets could be wiped out en route. And this storm could break even the strongest wards."


    "Order," said Sahshir, kneeling and planting his sword in the sand. "One moment."


    "What are you doing?" asked Nagos.


    "I''m attempting to restore the natural order to those clouds to make them rain. It isn''t nearly as easy as you would think," said Sahshir. Then he closed his eyes and began to focus, sending forth his will into the storm. He found the spirits of the wind howling and sent forth order.


    His will was forced against theirs, and he had trouble moving forward. Power crushed against his mind, and he shuddered, focusing his energy. Driving down the spirits, he felt a mental blow to his mind. Pushing through, he struck at the center of the storm. The nexus of power at the center broke and shuddered.


    For a moment, there was an ungodly howling of rage.


    Then he opened his eyes, and the storm was parting. The sky lightened at an unnatural pace as the chaos was driven out. Nature resumed its ordinary course. Sahshir rose and sheathed his sword. As he did, he fell to one knee, feeling very tired. "That should delay things for a time. But we should go. Our enemy will come after us, so..."


    "They already are," said Nagos. "Sheltath, let''s go!"


    Leaping onto the serpent, they quickly shot off. Yet the ship closed on them as winds fought to keep them back. Soon men with bows were launching arrows at them, some landing in the water. One of them bounced off Narcissa''s helm as Sahshir caught another.


    "They''re gaining on us," said Nagos, ducking low under an arrow. It shattered on Sheltath''s scales behind him.


    "Sheltath," said Sahshir, "turn around and sink the damned ship."


    "I cannot," said Sheltath. "I am forbidden to slay, save in defense of Chaminus.


    The ship was drawing ever nearer. Nagos looked back. "Sheltath, prepare to dive and swim out under the enemy ship." He drew a rope and looped it around the dragon''s neck before tying it tightly. From there, he tied the rope around himself, then threw it to Sahshir and Narcissa. "Tie yourselves up quickly."


    He ducked under an arrow that sparked off the armor. Sahshir sheathed his sword and quickly tied it around himself. He then did the same to Narcissa.


    "Are you tied down?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes!" said Narcissa.


    "I am," said Sahshir. "Now, do it!"


    "Now, Sheltath!" said Nagos. "Take a breath!"


    Sheltath dove as they breathed in. Then they were pulled under the water as Sheltath surged through the water. The pressure was incredible, and Sahshir nearly knocked the wind out of him as he hung on to the rope. Finally, the dragon shot beneath the ship, and Sahshir saw several arrows delving into the depths.


    "Why? Just do it.


    On and on, it went as they shot under the ship, then on and on. Air was running out, Sahshir''s lungs were burning. Glancing back, he saw the rope behind him straining under Narcissa''s armor. Afraid it would break, he snatched her hand to decrease the weight.


    Then Sheltath surged upwards and plunged out of the water. They were in the air for a moment, and Sahshir gasped for air. Then they landed and nearly fell into the water. Another island was before them. They lay on Sheltath''s back for a moment, gasping for air.


    Then Nagos looked up and smiled. "We made it! We made it to Alcaides!"


    "No, we made it to the island," said Narcissa.


    "The island is also called Alcaides," said Nagos. "He renamed it after himself once he conquered it from Sorn."


    The island was different from the one they''ve been before. It was lower and covered in many trees. Strange, colorful birds could be seen flying above the trees. Soon they entered the harbor, and Sahshir stepped onto the beach, feeling wet and miserable.


    "What manner of narcissist names an island after himself?" said Sahshir.


    "I don''t know," said Narcissa, planting her axe and emptying her helmet of water. "Maybe he''s really just a misunderstood guy who-"


    A huge satyr bounded out of the trees wielding a giant halberd, leaping dramatically onto a rock. Around him came hundreds of other satyrs with bows and spears. "Who dares to trespass upon the domain of King Alcaides the Immortal and Undying! Speak quickly, or you shall be cast forever into fire and death as all who oppose Alcaides are!" And he summoned a huge sphere of flame into one hand and hurled it to set fire to some trees.


    "...Well, he might be joking," said Narcissa.


    Sahshir wondered if they might go back to fight the Sornian vessel.

 Chapter Twelve: Choices

    Of course, backing down was neither an option nor desirable. Nagos was stepping behind him on reflex, so Sahshir stepped forward. Narcissa fell in behind him, hoisting her axe as they neared the satyrs. The creatures stood ready for a moment, prepared for a spring.


    "King Alcaides, I am Abdul Sahshir of Kalthak. I come to you with an offer for great danger and great glory."


    "Glory and danger are well," said Alcaides. "But King Alcaides needs neither from one who wears a mask."


    "This cloth is my face," said Sahshir. "What lies beneath is merely rot."


    "You intrigue Alcaides." said the colossal satyr, eyeing him, "What manner of King walks with only two servants?"


    "These are not servants but two rulers in our own right," replied Sahshir. "Nagos, Heir of Namina of Old, stands to my right."


    "I think we''ve already met," said Nagos, regaining his composure.


    "Yes, I remember you washed up on Alcaides'' island some time ago," said Alcaides. "What of the other?"


    "Narcissa, the ruler of Zigildrazia''s remaining people," said Narcissa. "I have heard many tales of your power and valor, and every one of them seems true, King Alcaides."


    "Alcaides knew of their nature before you introduced them." scoffed Alcaides. "He merely feigned interest to test your truthfulness. You might be worth a ransom."


    "Perhaps," said Sahshir. "But it would cost you great bloodshed to gain it. We are not defenseless; our people shall never pay ransom to deliver us from a foreign adversary."


    "So you say," said Alcaides. "Why do you come before King Alcaides? What is your mission?"


    "We seek to create a great alliance of all the Pirate Kings," said Sahshir. "To unite them for a single purpose; To defeat Sorn and create a new order."


    "And so you come to Alcaides, as was long foreseen," said Alcaides thoughtfully. "Yes, I knew a day such as this would come. But why should I unite with you when I need no army to drive my enemy before me alone."


    "Can you?" asked Sahshir in turn.


    "DARE YOU QUESTION KING ALCAIDES?!" roared the satyr, his voice echoing through the trees. The wind howled around them as the eaves of the trees moaned.


    "Hang on, we weren''t questioning you, just asking a hypothetical," said Nagos quickly.


    "Hypothetical?" asked Alcaides. "What do you mean by this?"


    "Forgive my companion, Sahshir, great Alcaides," said Narcissa, stepping forward. "His affliction has driven him near to madness. We meant only to say that winning by using a vast army is more glorious, for it would demonstrate your hold over the many. All know of your magnificent feats of battle, but not many know of your incomprehensible aura.


    "For all men would die for you if they but knew your true nature."


    "You speak truly, Narcissa," said Alcaides, sounding pleased. "Yet I would have you answer a question. Speak truthfully, for I know the answer already, will King Asrif be among this fleet."


    "He will," said Narcissa.


    "Then, Alcaides cannot sail! Our ships shall only ever meet to enact retribution!" said Alcaides. "Asrif slew Alcaides'' brother, and that blood, in turn, demands blood! More blood than Asrif has!""


    "I''ve heard how he killed your brother," said Narcissa. "That''s why we''re here. You don''t think we would bother you about the fleets of Sorn, do you?


    "We want Asrif to see your glory and the nature of his crime. We want him to comprehend his sin and redeem himself. But first, we need a victory."


    "Victory is the state of Alcaides being," replied Alcaides. "Yet, I do not think you are yet worthy of Alcaides to walk among you. So I will give you a question. Complete it, and all shall be as you say. Fail, and Alcaides shall engineer his will through other vessels."


    "Whatever you want, King Alcaides," said Narcissa.


    Alcaides pointed to the mountain above them. "There is a mine high in that mountain. Deep within it lies a monument. All who come before that monument die slow deaths unless they flee.


    "Now and then, horror spells are sent forth to harm the farmers serving King Alcaides. This was made as punishment by Alcaides for crimes made long ago.


    "But now the debt is paid.


    "You will enter the cave and destroy the monument. In doing so, you shall prove your worth."


    "It shall be as you say, King Alcaides."


    "Then go forth," said Alcaides.


    Then he and his men vanished into the trees as quickly as they had come.


    "What was that?" asked Sahshir.


    "I was taught to flatter people by Zarana," said Narcissa, removing her helm. "I haven''t used it much in a long time. Where is Sheltath?"


    "Gone," said Nagos. "I''ll call him up later. That was amazing, Narcissa."


    "Not really," said Sahshir flatly.


    "Well, what would you call amazing?" asked Narcissa.


    "There is nothing impressive about flattery." snapped Sahshir.


    "You clearly haven''t ever tried using it before," said Narcissa. "It''s a skill."


    "Believe what you will," said Sahshir. "Where are all the ships on this island?"


    "The ships?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes, I''ve seen no sign of them since we arrived," said Sahshir.


    "No one knows," admitted Nagos. "I''ve heard rumors that Alcaides has a secret harbor that closes behind the ships that enter it, though. He often hijacks slave ships and recruits the cargo, and no one is allowed to leave his following and live."


    "Well, however, he hides them; it is a mystery we must solve later," said Sahshir. "For now, we have a dark spirit to exorcise."


    "And how are you going to do that, Sahshir?" asked Narcissa.


    "I have no idea," said Sahshir before making for the mountain. "I imagine stabbing it multiple times might help."


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    "You know, we really ought to have more of a plan than that," said Nagos.


    "Make whatever suggestions you desire, Nagos," said Sahshir, entering the trees.


    "Well, I can''t think of anything," admitted Nagos.


    "My point is perfectly made," said Sahshir.


    On they walked into the darkness. The ground on this island was wet, and their feet sank into the ground. They saw massive spiders making huge webs, no doubt under the guidance of Rioletta. Sahshir wondered if the Goddess of Weaving had holdings in this domain.


    Probably not. Rioletta''s worship was from the lands of the Medi to the cursed domain of the Bright Lord Elranor in Gel Carn. Though there were likely a few.


    "Sahshir?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes?" asked Sahshir.


    "What if Alcaides doesn''t join us?" asked Nagos.


    "Then we will have at least destroyed a threat to the people in these lands," said Sahshir.


    "Yeah, it seems like a situation where all benefit," said Narcissa.


    "I suppose if your definition of victory is loose enough, it is," said Nagos.


    "Do you have an alternative?" asked Sahshir.


    "Not really," admitted Nagos.


    As Sahshir had suspected, Nagos had been making all this up as he went. He had been doing a good job of it, though. Nagos knew what had to happen and roughly what steps he had to take. And he had recruited Sahshir and Narcissa to compensate for his shortcomings.


    Nagos was a good King and a skilled adventurer. "Then we go on."


    "I hope Alkela is doing alright," said Narcissa.


    "She is far safer than us," said Sahshir.


    "Well, yes," said Narcissa, "but I left her in charge."


    "With all possible respect," said Sahshir, "how could a mute lead anyone?"


    "She can write," said Narcissa. "Mostly, she just writes out the directives. She''s better at it than I am, anyway. It''s why I was able to be here."


    "I leave your own affairs to organize or destroy as you see fit," said Sahshir.


    Soon they came out of the trees and began scaling up the mountains. These were oddly barren, with not a blade of grass on them. As they went further up, a sort of malaise came over them. Here and there, Sahshir saw bones scattered in the rocks.


    "Wow, climbing these mountains is difficult," said Nagos, though he didn''t seem winded. "Have you done this kind of thing before, Sahshir?"


    "Yes," said Sahshir.


    "I''ve done it in high heels," said Narcissa.


    "I don''t get why anyone would wear high heels in the first place," muttered Nagos. "They''ve got to hurt the feet."


    "It''s for the sake of appearances. And appearances are everything," said Narcissa.


    "Yeah, but they''re only skin deep," said Nagos. "Someone can look really beautiful and be horrible or kind. Outside appearance doesn''t matter."


    "Actually, it tells you a great deal about a person. For example, if someone wears makeup, it means they care about their appearance," said Narcissa. "If someone is meticulously clean, it tells you how they behave each morning.


    "Outside appearances are what we choose to show to the world. And our choices define us." So they scaled higher into the air, near several huge stones.


    Nagos rolled his eyes. "I just throw on whatever I want unless Serna forces me to dress up."


    "And that says a lot about your character, doesn''t it?" asked Narcissa.


    "Not anything I wouldn''t tell someone who asked," said Nagos with a shrug.


    As they went on, Sahshir sensed Garrick Estov around them. He stopped and put a hand to his sword. "Quiet. There is something in the trees.


    "We have walked into an ambush."


    And then they emerged.


    They did not come from the stones but from the ground. Men clad in mail emerged like phantoms from the earth. Swords surrounded them as archers appeared on the rocks and trained their shots. There were dozens of them.


    And then a man came forward, the one with the huge sword. Up close, Sahshir saw he had sea-green eyes. His skin was gray, and his black garments were adorned with the symbol of a coin changing hands. "You are perceptive for one with your affliction. Keep your arrows trained on them, Lauren."


    "Lieutenant Garrick, is it?" asked Sahshir.


    "Indeed I am," said Garrick. "My associates and I merely wish to talk."


    "You tried to kill us," said Nagos.


    "You interfered with my gathering of a storm," said Garrick. "It is not in my nature to act aggressively, but I felt that it warranted reprisal."


    "Fine words from the one who has spent his life in the armies of Sorn." scoffed Sahshir. "Haven''t you the stomach to face an equal opponent?"


    "So I did," said Garrick, not offended. "I have the stomach. But I prefer easy victories. Might I inquire as to what brought you out to this place?"


    "I have no words for you," said Sahshir.


    "We''re here to get an army of pirates to wipe you off the map!" said Nagos.


    Typical, really.


    "I see. An innovative tactic" said Garrick. "Surely, you must be aware of how unreliable pirates can be."


    "Sure, but they''ve got a code," said Nagos. "You break a deal among them and end up hacked into tiny pieces.


    "They don''t like double-crossing."


    "Perhaps not," said Garrick. "I note that you have come here from King Ansif''s domain. Were you successful in gathering his support?"


    "Of course I was," said Nagos.


    What was he doing? Something was calculating in how Nagos was doing this. "Really. So you are negotiating an alliance with various pirate lords. And you''ve done it without any shows of force."


    "I know most of them on a first-name basis. Well, except Alcaides," said Nagos.


    Garrick paused. "...Why don''t you come to work for Sorn."


    "What do you mean?" asked Nagos.


    "Surely, you must realize that Dinis is falling to pieces," said Garrick. "It is doubtful that they will last very long, even if we repulse them."


    "The Empire has been dying of the same disease for thirty years," noted Narcissa.


    "Why do you care?" asked Nagos flatly. "You''re a Knight of the Coin."


    "Of course I am," said Garrick. "I am absolutely loyal to the interests of the man paying me now. Those interests, at present, are solidifying control over the Islands of Power. An allied system of islands Sorn can work with as a partner could be quite valuable."


    "You do realize that the Emperor of Dinis is on my island?" asked Nagos. "If I betrayed him, he''d kill everyone."


    "Then all you need do is ensure that your treachery is engineered to destroy him," noted Garrick. Then he looked to Sahshir. "Abdul Sahshir, is it? I have heard some rumors about your battles. You must realize that Dinis is your primary threat.


    "Sorn has no interest in Kalthak. If we cooperate, we could take Dinis apart, distributing areas of land as we see fit. There is great profit to be made for all involved."


    "Do not do this, Nagos," said Sahshir, not dignifying him with even a look. "He is your liege lord, whatever his vices."


    "I say we negotiate on the subject," said Narcissa.


    "Narcissa!" said Sahshir, genuinely horrified. Was she really suggesting they betray their allies?


    "Oh, come on!" said Narcissa. "You saw how the Emperor treats his loyal subjects! He massacred my people and tried to purge us! I have no loyalty to the man, and I''d love to see him die!"


    "Whatever his character, Macshore is his territory," said Sahshir flatly.


    "It is Sorn''s by legal contracts," replied Garric. "We found it, created the colony, and seeded the fields. We have come to take Macshore."


    "You took the island from the natives who lived there in the first place," said Sahshir. "You enslaved or murdered them. You Sornians go from island to island. You make trade deals with contracts the natives do not understand. Then you use those same deals to justify mass slaughter and enslavement.


    "Then you praise Coinfurth and cry to high heaven about seeking a peaceful solution.


    "You are the most abominable people to ever taint the earth. I will be damned before I side with you."


    "I''m sorry you feel that way," said Garric. "In truth, the examples you cited were done mainly by House Kaba. They can hardly be considered true Sornians. My own Lord, Carath Magnious, is no breaker of contracts. It was decided that he would gain more favorable economic terms if the island were in our direct control. So he ordered me to remove the natives by sword or chain. No contract was involved. In contrast, formal treaties were signed with Dinis. They made it ours in exchange for favorable prices.


    "I have them aboard my ship if you wish.


    "Those treaties that were violated by Dinis when they seized the island from us during the Era of Burning. Sorn has meant to take them back, and now the Knights of the Coin stand ready to do just that.


    "However, we have no designs on your territory. Far from it, we will focus on developing our conquests for maximum profits."


    "Why do you keep pretending you work for Sorn?" asked Narcissa. "You''re a Knight of the Coin. You don''t care if Sorn wins or loses as long as your order remains intact."


    "My personal feelings are irrelevant," said Garrick. "I represent my employer, and Garrick Estov is only a name.


    "If you would return to my ship, I''d be happy to negotiate-"


    Nagos drew out a white stone and hurt it at the ground. There was a flash, and the assembled soldiers fell backward by a burst of light. Nagos grabbed their arms and pulled them over the men. "Run!"


    They sprinted through the rocks, slipping past the archers. Arrows bounced off the stones around them as they went for the peak. Soon they left their enemies behind them and went higher still. Still, they had to slow down to climb further, and Sahshir hated the idea of falling.


    "What was that?" gasped Narcissa.


    "A flash stone," said Nagos. "A Naminean object I was taught to make by Serna''s parents. We''ve got to get up the mountain quick."


    "I take it this means your answer is no," said Sahshir.


    "I''m not going to give any answer on Garrick''s ship," said Nagos. "And anyway, just because Octavus isn''t good company doesn''t mean he deserves to be betrayed. He''s never done anything to me personally, and I don''t trust Sorn.


    "They rip up contracts whenever they think they can get a better deal by force."


    Then a howling wind shot down at them. Exactly on them, making it nearly impossible to scale higher. Sahshir could see the cave high above, but every inch seemed like a mile.


    "These winds... they''re slowing us down," said Nagos.


    "We have to press on," said Sahshir. "When we reach the cave, Garrick won''t be able to follow us."


    "He can just wait at the entrance and starve us out," noted Nagos.


    "Assuming there is only one entrance," noted Sahshir. "There might be several."


    "Garrick might not even be able to follow us that far," said Narcissa. "Don''t you feel it?"


    "Feel what?" asked Sahshir.


    "That presence in the air," said Narcissa. "Something out there, it hates us. It hates us more than anything."


    Sahshir looked up and felt his neck hairs stand on end. As he scaled higher, cold sweat fell over his brow. As they rose upward, he felt something. A presence. "Is that... Garacel?"


    "Master Garacel hates Baltoth, not us," said Narcissa. "Otherwise, he wouldn''t have spared you."


    "Do not call him that," said Sahshir.


    Narcissa looked away. "I''m sorry."


    And then Sahshir sensed a tremoring. Looking up, he saw waves of stones falling down toward them. "Look out! Get cover!"


    Quickly they slid into an alcove of rock. Then stones fell down around them, shattering down the mountain. So they came, kicking up dust and earth until the clamor finally ended.


    "A rockslide! How did he create a rockslide!" said Nagos.


    "Send a few stones down the mountain, and they may start an avalanche," said Sahshir. And then he spied Garrick and his men scaling up the mountain with the wind at their back. "There is Garrick now. He''s coming after us quickly." An arrow bounced off the stone next to him. "Climb faster."


    "I am climbing faster!" said Nagos before beginning to scale.


    Up they went, as Garrick and his men finally gained on them. Then they came to a plateau, and on it were many stone buildings. But all of them were empty, save for abandoned skeletons and valuables. So if no one had looted them, something must still be here. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "A village," said Nagos. "I was here some years ago when we made port. It used to have hundreds of people in it.


    "What happened to them?"


    "It is a mystery we''ll have to solve later," said Sahshir, sensing the evil. "Come."


    They took a path upward, and as they walked, they felt the hatred growing nearer. Yet it did not seem to have a source or even a target. Instead, it was a festering loathing that permeated every stone and grass.


    "Was it... was it always like this?" asked Narcissa. "No plans."


    "No, not before," said Nagos. "At one time, there were trees up here. However, I feel like something has awakened recently."


    "But what?" asked Narcissa.


    "I don''t know," admitted Nagos. "But an old woman once told me a story. She said that the God of Hatred fought in the God Wars on the side of Typhos. He clashed with Elranor and was slain. His body was then entombed deep within the islands and, with it, all his power.


    "Waiting for the day when his successor comes." He paused. "Hang on a sec."


    Then he put a finger between his lips and whistled a complex tune. Something shifted.


    "What did you do?" asked Narcissa.


    "I just whistled Sheltath and told him to circle around the island until he nears my whistle," said Nagos. "That should make getting away easier. Once we get out, we can run down that way to the sea and get on him."


    "Assuming we aren''t caught with no way out," noted Sahshir as they came within sight of the cave.


    It was a bleak and enraging look. Every stone was barren. The dust was blowing in the wind, and the mouth of the cave was as black as night. The closer they got, the more violent the hatred around them became.


    "Are you sure there is no other way?" asked Nagos.


    "If there were, Alcaides would tell us," noted Sahshir.


    "He didn''t strike me as a very sane person, Sahshir," said Narcissa.


    "The fact is irrelevant," said Sahshir. "We have no time to find other means. Come, we must enter."


    Together they stepped into the darkness.

 Chapter Thirteen: Demons

    Almost as soon as they entered, everything went wrong.


    In the darkness, Nagos slipped and fell forward. Narcissa grabbed him, and she nearly fell after him. Below them was a vast abyss that descended into endless darkness. Faint red lights could be seen emanating from the darkness.


    Narcissa pulled him back with difficulty, and he fell against her shoulder.


    "Thank you," said Nagos, looking around. "There''s a way down there."


    Sahshir peered into the dark, then drew out the Sword of Order. The light emanated, and he saw a narrow path leading down into the darkness. Glancing back, Sahshir saw the cave mouth showing Garrick and his men scaling up toward them.


    "It''ll be trouble," said Nagos.


    "They''re still following us," said Sahshir. "Down, quickly."


    So they descended the winding path, keeping to the wall. They were torn between the need for haste and the drop near them. Even as the path led down, Sahshir glanced back from the rear to see Garrick pursuing.


    The man moved with confidence, slowing only for those who walked behind.


    "Doesn''t that elf ever stop?" asked Narcissa from the front.


    "It does not seem so," noted Sahshir,


    "Look out!" cried Nagos.


    There was a shadowy blur, and something rose over them. Sahshir brought around his sword to hack back a claw. It came off at the wrist, and the beast surged backward, only for the claw to regrow. But others came up to aid it. Narcissa slashed one back as others surged toward Garrick.


    "What are these things?!" said Nagos.


    "Demons," guessed Sahshir, cutting one in two. "Down, quickly, we must reach the lower ground. Nagos, draw your sword!"


    And down they went. Nagos struggled to draw his own sword as they scaled downward, and more of the beasts came at them. Fortunately, most seemed focused on Garrick, whose men fought valiantly. Arrows pierced the creatures as Garrick himself slashed them in twain with ease. His sword moved in a blur.


    Yet when the demons died, they left no bodies. They simply faded back into the darkness before another formed in their place. Down they went as quickly as possible, having to fight the whole way. Nagos was useless here; his sword was swung around blindly like a club. He mostly did ward off a few, but he at least knew enough to avoid getting ripped to shreds.


    Soon the darkness faded, and they saw a massive red gem at the bottom of the cave. But, even as they reached the end of the spiral, they found an enemy before them. He was a massive armor giant, but no sign of a face could be seen beyond his helmet. In one hand was an enormous sword, and he gazed at them with what might of amusement. "You trespass, warriors. This place is not yours to set foot within."


    "Well, we didn''t have much choice," said Nagos.


    "Your choices are of no concern." said the man. "I am the Withering King. Return from when you came, now, or be consumed-" He halted suddenly as if hearing something. "-are you certain, Lucius?" He lowered his sword. "Very well.


    "I have been ordered to escort you to Lucius. He will not accept no for an answer."


    "Your master does not concern me," said Sahshir.


    Dozens of demons landed all around them.


    "Sahshir, let''s just play along for now," said Narcissa. "I don''t want to fight all these guys."


    "The Battleluster is wiser than you." noted the figure.


    "I''m with Narcissa; I don''t even know how to use a sword," said Nagos, with a cut on his brow. Sahshir considered his chances and then noted that Garrick seemed to have drawn back. Or been killed. Either was possible. "...Very well. But none shall take the Sword of Order from me."


    "We were not ordered to take your weapons." said the figure. "More are coming. Creatures of hatred consume these interlopers."


    All the demons surged upward, and the sound of fighting resounded above. Sahshir was impressed that it continued well after the first few moments. Finally, the figure turned and led them through a passageway, followed by Nagos and Narcissa.


    "Nagos, do you have no combat training?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yeah, why do you ask?" asked Nagos.


    "Why didn''t you say so?" asked Narcissa.


    "I didn''t think it was important," said Nagos. "Fighting takes a lot more energy than talking, and I never had a chance to learn to fight.


    "Pirates like to pick easy targets. If you''re having a pitched battle, you''re doing something wrong. The general deal is that if the ship surrenders, you let them live. If they resist, you kill them all. When they resisted, I generally hid in the rigging."


    "Those are the actions of a coward." scoffed Sahshir.


    "Look, that was what they wanted me to do," said Nagos. "I was the only person who knew how to read and write."


    "You should have joined the battle anyway," said Sahshir. "War is the affair of men."


    "Lay off him, Sahshir," said Narcissa. "He''d be cut to ribbons without any training."


    "You''re one to talk," noted Sahshir.


    "I sort of cheated, okay," said Narcissa. "Amysta''s presence in my spirit allows me to learn weaponry more quickly."


    "Anyway, why are we talking about me?" asked Nagos, looking to the armored figure. "Who are you? Whose this Lord of Hatred we''re going to visit?"


    "I am the Withering King." said the man. "As for the Lord of Hatred, there is no Lord of Hatred now. His body lies entombed in this place, and I merely take the role of a... guardian of sorts."


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    "Then why were you raiding the surrounding area?" asked Narcissa. "Why would you destroy that village?"


    "They keep the domain alive." said the Withering King. "Hatred is more than an emotion; it also requires action to be real. To hate someone without doing anything to harm them is merely a dislike.


    "Also, they kept sending adventurers to kill the demons in this place, and I got sit of them being on my doorstep."


    "Just as love without action is mere infatuation," noted Nagos.


    "Do not speak of such horrors." said the Withering King. "We were also ordered to. The coming of a new Lord of Hatred is nigh."


    The Withering King came to a door and planted his sword. As he did, the doors swung open. "Lord Elcano awaits you."


    "Elcano?" asked Nagos.


    "Or Lucius as he is known to Harlenorians as I once was." said the Withering King.


    "Oh right, him," said Nagos. "Um, isn''t he the Withering King?"


    "A common misconception." said the Withering. "All authority is mine. Lucius is merely my... benefactor. Enter."


    They entered through the doors and found an immense fire at the hall''s center. Six huge pillars stood with horrible symbols on them. At the far end of the hall was a sarcophagus with the image of a stone warrior.


    And between the flame and sarcophagus, there was a table. A spectral figure that seemed to be a cloaked man but with nothing within. He turned to them and bowed. "Welcome, welcome, please. I am Lucius, and I''ve had some tea prepared. Or would you care for some wine instead?"


    "We do not drink wine. Baltoth forbids it," said Sahshir, coming forward.


    "Ah, yes, forgive me," said Lucius. "I had forgotten that custom. Unfortunately, my business does not usually bring me into the affairs of Calisha; still, there is tea if you would like." He turned to Narcissa. "And you, Narcissa, I believe. Zigildrazia was quite descriptive about you. You are every bit the beauty she remarked on." sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Thank you," said Narcissa, taken aback.


    Lucius looked to Nagos. "And you are..."


    "King Nagos, can I have some wine?" asked Nagos. "Serna never lets me drink any of it."


    "Fair enough," said Lucius, pulling several chairs from the tables. "Now, why don''t we sit down. We need to discuss a certain amount of business and only a little time to discuss it." He poured a cup of wine and offered it to Nagos, who drank it.


    "What do you want?" asked Sahshir, not sitting down and giving Narcissa a look when she tried.


    "Well, simply put, I am the Demonic Archon of Envy," said Lucius. "And I''ve been chosen to mediate the succession for the Lord of Hatred."


    "Succession?" asked Narcissa. "There hasn''t been a Lord of Hatred since the God War."


    "Well, yes, but the domain still exists," said Lucius. "Garacel''s brother, Akalmush, was the Lord of Hatred, slain by Elranor in single combat. Ordinarily, when a god kills another god, the winner absorbs the loser''s power. They then pass it on to a mortal child later.


    "But Elranor thought of hatred as wholly useless for his purposes. So he refuses to have his way with mortals. The only mortal he ever fell in love with he married and lived with till the day she died."


    "That''s sweet," said Narcissa.


    Lucius looked annoyed at that. "And highly inconvenient. Because the power of hatred was effectively fully suppressed with no outlet. Elranor did hate some people, but he regards his hatred as a liability. To him, it is something that clouds his judgment. So he never actually used it. But with the whole cycle of revenge building up between Calisha and Harlenor. With everyone killing everyone else, it became a problem. The domain of hatred began to seep into Elranor''s judgment.


    "So he went to the tomb of the God of Hatred and pushed the domain back into his corpse." He motioned to the tomb behind them. "Over there."


    "Then why are you here?" asked Nagos. "Shouldn''t Elranor be telling us this?"


    "Elranor is involved, but unfortunately, he is biased," said Lucius. "I''ve been chosen to mediate since I''m uninvolved."


    "Mediate what?" asked Sahshir.


    "The successor," said Lucius. "Hatred is a domain like any other and needs regulation. But, as things stand, it has been festering for centuries."


    "Wouldn''t the world be better without hatred?" asked Nagos.


    Lucius laughed before suddenly stopping. "No, of course not. When all hope is lost, hatred drives you to keep going. When all you care for has been destroyed by your enemies, the desire to hurt them lets you survive."


    "That''s just revenge," said Nagos.


    "What of the hatred of injustice, then?" asked Lucius. "One might see something desperately wrong in the world. Love would compel you to avoid confrontation. To soothe the pains of all involved while ignoring the source. But hatred, hatred would inspire you to strike at injustice. To destroy that which is wrong and raise up the right.


    "Love is a beautiful thing, but it leads to complacency. You rest in love. You act in hatred."


    "So what now?" asked Sahshir, not wanting anymore to do with this specter than necessary.


    "Well, Sahshir, there is a dispute as to who should become the Lord of Hatred," said Lucius. "Elranor is planning to prop up Garacel for the job. Garacel hates Baltoth passionately, which would end to Elranor''s benefit. He''s not unqualified for the job and has a legitimate claim. But I was hoping we might make alternative arrangements.


    "How would you feel about being Lord of Hatred, Sahshir?"


    "Me?" asked Sahshir, not trusting the matter. "Why me?"


    "Well, you have been driven by anger after all," said Lucius. "Anger is the thing that keeps one like yourself going. You are powerful, and you clearly despise Garacel with a passion.


    "It is not perfect, but enough to stall him."


    "Wait a minute, I thought Garacel was already a god," said Narcissa.


    "Garacel is, at the moment, a god without a domain to speak of," said Lucius. "Much as a King may be the legitimate heir to a throne, but hold no authority."


    "And why do you want to help me gain this power?" asked Sahshir, thinking all this too convenient.


    "I''m interested in keeping Baltoth and Elranor fighting among one another," said Lucius. "I envision a great war that shall purge all my enemies. And I want that war to be as evenly matched as possible.


    "The way things are going, Garacel will end up on Elranor''s side. So, I need to keep him from getting any more powerful."


    "What do you want me to do?" asked Sahshir.


    Lucius motioned to the sarcophagus, and it slid open. "Take the Sword of Order and plunge it into the body of Akalmush. The blade will act as a channel from which the spirit of hatred will enter into you. You will become a god, albeit lesser, more than Garacel''s equal.


    "The rotting flesh which besets you shall be restored."


    For the first time, Sahshir started listening. He was dying, and if this worked, he could be healed. The disease that had rotted his body because of Father''s actions could be purified. He stepped forward, but then a hand caught his shoulder.


    "Don''t do it, Sahshir," said Nagos quickly. "This is too easy." He looked to Lucius. "What is the catch?"


    "Well, the catch is that doing this will taint the Sword of Order," said Lucius. "It will become an artifact of hatred as much as Order. Yours to command rather than Baltoth''s.


    "But have you not earned it?


    "You gave the Grail of Immortality to Baltoth, which was long lost and has received little reward. And if you were to become a god in such a way, you could aid him far better."


    "Assuming it doesn''t consume you," noted Narcissa. "Sahshir, I have such a being within me. You don''t realize that its voice isn''t yours."


    "It is a risk," said Lucius. "But indeed, the reward is far too great to yield. The power of a god at your disposal, your disease healed, life eternal yours. Surely you could repay your debt to Baltoth tenfold through service to him. And if he isn''t satisfied with that, what could he be happy with?


    "I leave the choice to Baltoth."


    Sahshir moved forward and looked into the tomb. There lay Akalmush in silent repose. Though his body radiated with the heart of hatred itself, his face was strangely peaceful. Raising the sword, he considered whether to do it.


    Surely if he continued to serve Baltoth with all his heart and soul as the Lord of Hatred, it would only be to His benefit. But would it? To begin service by stealing a sword from his master would be a wrong way to start. But if he did not, he would be dead soon. Didn''t Sahshir deserve the chance to prove himself worthy of the immortals?


    But there were others like him. Beggars cursed with diseases that hadn''t had any of the advantages Sahshir had been given. Many were far worse off and might make the same choice differently.


    "It is written:" said Sahshir, "all things end as they begin. So I shall not begin with a betrayal of my god." And he sheathed his sword to walk away.


    Lucius eyed him. "...I see. And what would you do instead?"


    "This body will be taken from this place," said Sahshir. "I will not betray Lord Baltoth nor break my agreement with Alcaides."


    Lucius sighed. "You disappoint me.


    "Still, it is your decision, and I respect it. You may leave whenever you wish. Take the body. I shall make no move against you."


    That was... unexpectedly easy. Too easy.

 Chapter Fourteen: Alcaides Choice

    The Withering King was gone when the party left. The only sign he had been there was a faint whispering on winds from above. So were the demons, for that matter, their power departing for other dimensions. Their journey out of the pit of hell was strange and, at the same time, uneventful. At one point, Narcissa nearly tripped in the dark and had to be caught by Sahshir. She hung out over the edge for a moment, breathing heavily before being pulled back. She enjoyed the danger. They carried the body of the former Lord of Hatred out of the darkness. As they did, the power lessened, and the effect on their minds and wills also did.


    They saw no sign of Garrick or his men as they traveled down the mountain, and Sahshir continued to sense for them. Yet there was a strange feeling in the air that had replaced it. There was something that spoke to Sahshir of a hidden threat. They descended into the woods and found a group of satyrs with bows and javelins waiting for them.


    They howled aloud, and Sahshir set his hand to his sword. However, Nagos caught him. "Wait, wait, that''s a greeting."


    Sahshir hesitated as the satyrs came forward. One of them carried a staff with a red cloth, marking him as a messenger. "King Alcaides has sent us to watch for you." said the leader. "Your success is observed. Now come with us to his domain."


    Sahshir looked to Narcissa, then back. There was no point in defying them here; they had to meet with him eventually. "Take us to him."


    The satyrs led them into the woods and into danker and darker places. The trees here hung with many ferns and bugs everywhere, while vines hung from the canopy above. It was miserably humid in the sun above. Narcissa''s scanty clothes left her exposed skin glimmering with sweat. Nagos kept looking at her and trying to hide the movement. Meanwhile, Sahshir cursed that no bugs were going after her. What did everyone else find so fascinating about Narcissa''s breasts anyway?


    Yes, they were large. Very large. Obscenely large. And they were packed into black leather that bared much of them.


    What of it?


    The satyrs, meanwhile, seemed used to it and paid it no heed. Soon they came into a series of huts built by the sea. Yet they were constructed so that they seemed part of the trees. Hounds surged toward them, snarling and pulling at chains before being called back.


    A great bonfire was burning at the center, and many satyrs were dancing around it while howling. Others were drinking from cups of wine and playing dice or cards. There were also humans, dwarves, and even a few elves. All carried with them spears and long shields. Several skeletal bodies were hanging from trees, picked clean by birds. Alcaides sat on a steel throne with several satyr women near him. With one hand, he was scratching a tiger behind the ears.


    As the party entered, the dancing halted, and Alcaides motioned. The leader came forward and prostrated himself. "King Alcaides, I have brought them before you."


    "So you have," said Alcaides. "King Alcaides is pleased by your fervor. Where is the body?"


    Sahshir motioned to Narcissa, whose turn it was to carry it. She laid the body down before him, and Alcaides smiled widely. "Why do you even want this?" asked Narcissa.


    "King Alcaides'' ways are not those of mortals," said Alcaides. "His power and wisdom are beyond the scope of mortal beings."


    "Enlighten me," said Sahshir deadpan.


    "I had a similar question." noted a familiar voice.


    Sahshir looked up and saw Garrick emerging from the shadows. None of the pirates found his presence remarkable. Looking closer, he saw the steel of mail coats among many robed figures on the outskirts.


    Alcaides eyed him in amusement. Then he laughed, a huge, booming laugh. "King Alcaides will explain. Sorn wishes to bask in King Alcaides'' power. He desires I bestow on them certain artifacts from my collection. In return, their fleets shall aid me in the glorious conquest of my ancient enemy.


    "The winds shall arise at Alcaides'' command! My enemies shall be destroyed!"


    "Would it not be better to consume the power of the domain yourself?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    "King Alcaides will not explain that," said Alcaides quickly.


    "If I might, your majesty, there is the matter of the body," said Garrick. "It radiates the power of hatred, and it had best be destroyed."


    "Let it be so!" said Alcaides. "Pile wood and fern and leaf, and let the smoke of the burning rise to heaven!"


    "What of our agreement?" asked Garrick.


    "Oh yes, Alcaides shall honor it," said Alcaides quickly.


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    "What of our agreement?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    "Alcaides shall honor that too," said Alcaides.


    Sahshir wondered if his agreement with Garrick didn''t contradict his own. Or if Alcaides was simply insane. It could be both.


    "Your majesty, Sorn is, at the moment, about to fight a war with Dinis," said Garrick. "And Kalthak is allied with Dinis. Even as we speak, their fleets are gathering at Chaminus.


    "If you side with one of us, you cannot side with the other."


    "All things are possible with Alcaides," said Alcaides. "What you view as contradictions are merely manifestations of the same ultimate power. One that is as one, if gazed upon with proper understanding." He paused. "Alcaides does not want the inconvenience of finding a way to side with both armies.


    "As such, you will both fight to the death for Alcaides'' amusement, and I will side with the winner."


    Garrick put his face in his hands. Sahshir had the feeling he''d been at this for some time. "If I might ask King Alcaides, how can you side with one of us when the battle would be won? Would that not... dilute your apparent magnificence somewhat."


    "Then we shall make it a matter of single combat!" said Alcaides. "King Sahshir and Captain Garrick shall duel in single combat to the death!"


    "It is considered unseemly among my people to kill kings," said Garrick. "Perhaps you would allow us to fight until first blood?"


    "King Alcaides shall allow this," said Alcaides.


    With a sigh, Sahshir stepped forward as the men parted ways. Garrick motioned, and a Dust Elven boy brought him his blade. Drawing it from the sheathe, he set it. Sahshir drew his own blade and took a stance. Garrick obviously knew what he was doing by his posture.


    "You are not rested," noted Garrick. "Facing an exhausted opponent does not seem a fair match. The contract could be considered illegitimate. King Alcaides, will you allow me to pray to Coinfurth for victory?"


    "As you wish," said Alcaides.


    Garrick fell to his knees rather than sitting crosslegged or prostrating himself. Sahshir sat down crosslegged and examined his enemy. He wondered why he would not take the advantage. Tuor certainly would have, and Asim might have as well. Would Sahshir? It did not seem befitting a samurai, but the old ways had been fading a long time. Even so, it would be best to focus on victory. Garrick had superior reach and power; if he called on the winds, it could be trouble. Sahshir should thus get close.


    Closing his eyes, Sahshir meditated. He pushed through the agony that filled him and gained strength. He pondered like this, musing over things, as Garrick remained kneeling.


    After a few minutes, they rose and faced one another. Once again, their stances were held as their blades were out.


    "Are you prepared?" asked Garrick.


    "I am," said Sahshir.


    "Begin!" cried Alcaides. "While Alcaides'' patience lasts!"


    Sahshir surged forward, his blade rushing toward Garrick. Yet even as he did, Garrick spun away and brought round a strike that nearly scraped his brow. Stepping back, Sahshir was almost stabbed by the massive blade before he parried it.


    Springing into the air, Sahshir shot over the blade. Then he brought his sword down toward Garrick''s neck. But the Dust Elf rolled forward and brought around his sword again. They clashed, and Sahshir was forced back by the weight of the stroke.


    For a moment, they stood dead still. "You are skilled, Kalthakian. Well deserving of your reputation."


    "Seldom have I seen so skilled an enemy who cared for nothing but money," noted Sahshir.


    "Money is merely a representation of value," said Garrick. "Value is how all things are achieved. And you will not interfere."


    "Yes!" cried Alcaides. "Yes, the fight pleases King Alcaides! Fight on! Fight on!"


    Garrick surged forward, unleashing a flurry of blows that drove Sahshir back to the sea. Whenever he tried to break free of the onslaught or reverse momentum, Garrick would catch him. Soon he was fighting with the soldier on the pier.


    Sahshir had an idea and ducked under a strike before slashing downward. His blade cut the boards at Garrick''s feet, and they gave way. The Dust Elf sprang back, but Sahshir was on him at once. He drove Garrick back with one slash and thrust after another. Suddenly, just as he reached the sand, Garrick spun his sword, and a gust of wind put Sahshir off balance. He struck, but Sahshir allowed himself to fall.


    Both slashed, and their blades rang.


    For a moment, Sahshir wasn''t sure what had happened. Then he saw a bloody mark on Garrick''s cheek. Sahshir smiled. "You are defeated."


    "Look down, Kalthakian," replied Garrick, voice calm.


    Sahshir did look down and saw a wound on his leg. He''d hardly even felt it. Howling cheers came from the pirates as Alcaides leaped down from his cheer and neared them. "A draw, is it? Well, this is troublesome. The duel was to first blood, and King Alcaides doubts a rematch would be worthwhile.


    "Let me see the wounds." Alcaides eyed each one carefully before turning to the audience. "King Sahshir inflicted the larger wound. He is the winner!"


    "May I assume we are now enemies?" asked Garrick, sheathing his sword.


    No reaction? No condemnation or fury at a defeat? Not even a sign of disappointment or injured pride? Was Garrick a man or an automaton like those made in ancient Namina?


    "If you continue as you are, yes," said Alcaides. "But King Alcaides is merciful and will allow you to leave with your ships! And woe to you should King Alcaides meet you on the battlefield."


    Garrick nodded. "Very well then, Men, we go to our ships. The Curse of Hatred is removed from this island. I am certain it will be productive once we have conquered it."


    And he walked off with all his men.


    "...There is an empty one," noted Alcaides. "But it matters not. Build the pyre! The time has come for us to burn the body of the Lord of Hatred. In so doing, we dispel the menace!"


    "What will happen to the Domain of Hatred?" asked Nagos.


    "It shall go beyond the influence of any power and bestow itself on one who is most deserving," said Alcaides. "That may be ages from now."


    "How is that different from before?" asked Nagos.


    "Before the domain of hatred could not take form," said Sahshir. "Now, with this pyre, it will once again be released. The plans of Elranor foiled."


    Even so, Sahshir would be lying if he said he wasn''t disappointed. Garrick hadn''t even cared that he was defeated.


    Only once they were on Sheltath, Sahshir realized Garrick would make a good samurai. It was an odd realization that a mercenary should have such honor and devotion. Yet it was a different kind of honor, which Sahshir did not understand fully. He wondered who had taught it to Garrick and what reception he would receive on his return home.


    Would he be punished for failure? Disgraced? Or applauded?


    Sahshir decided he could not hate the man in the end.

 Chapter Fifteen: The Return

    A few days later, Sheltath sped toward the island of Chaminus in the distance and it was a welcome sight. Long hours of journeying under a beating sun had seen them all become tired, though Narcissa looked just fine. Nagos did not look fine, but he was taking it in stride. He was lying on his back, admiring the clouds without apparent investment. Sahshir was polishing the Sword of Order, while Narcissa was doing the same for her axe.


    Sahshir wondered how Nagos stayed so calm and casual about everything. This great quest, narrowly achieved, had hardly thrown him off. On the surface he seemed too friendly, inexperienced even. But it was obvious that Nagos had seen far more than Sahshir or Narcissa had.


    All without any skill with a weapon.


    It would have been impressive if it hadn''t been so foolish.


    "I still can''t believe this actually worked," blurted Nagos as he sat up.


    "This was your idea, Nagos," noted Narcissa. "Why would you go for it if you didn''t think it would work?"


    "Honestly, I just wanted to get off Chaminus," said Nagos with a shrug. "It''s a nice place to live, but it can get old. And anyway, it wouldn''t have been any fun at all sticking around there with all those legionnaires."


    "They might cause trouble in your absence," noted Sahshir. "If they did, and we''d failed, things could have gone awry for naught."


    "But we didn''t fail, and the island is fine," said Nagos. "Sahshir, you can''t plan things out past a certain point. The only way you can enjoy things is if you let go of the illusion of control.


    "You never can tell what''s going to happen next, so you''ve just got to go with the flow."


    "I know that when I hit someone in the neck with my sword, the head will come off," replied Sahshir, disliking his casual approach. "When I give an order to a loyal subordinate, I can expect it to be carried out to the best of that subordinate''s ability.


    "Control is possible."


    "Sure, but you''ll never know whether the subordinate will succeed or not," said Nagos. "And if you plan for one and the other happens, you won''t be able to react."


    "But if you plan for both, you will be in a position to deal with all possibilities," noted Sahshir, though he himself had not done so.


    "Sahshir, there are infinite different possibilities in the world," said Nagos. "No matter how many plans you make, all of them will end up being dead wrong. At best, you''ll be able to adjust one of your existing plans to work.


    "So I just don''t plan at all. I''m nice to people and try to figure out a way things can work as I go."


    "Have you ever tried building a house while ''making things work as you go?''" asked Narcissa suddenly.


    "No," admitted Nagos.


    "Well, I''ve seen it happen, and it''s impossible," said Narcissa. "Constructing a house takes time and planning. If you don''t plan, it will collapse in on itself, or the area will be wrong."


    "Fine, fine, so maybe some planning is good," said Nagos as they neared the island. "Now can you guys relax, we''ve got the fleet we needed. Garrick lost his storm, we''re all good." He stood, leaped off Sheltath, and waded ashore. "Thanks a bunch, pal."


    "I live to serve," said Sheltath.


    Sahshir and Narcissa stepped off onto the land as well. Nagos led them onto the docks, stretching as he did. "Now, what say we head to the palace and...." He paused. "Where is everyone?"


    No one was about. That much could be seen, despite the waning light. But Sahshir felt a sense of unease and fear about the place.


    "I don''t know, but I don''t like the looks of this," said Narcissa. "We should-"


    Nagos walked up to a nearby door and started banging on it loudly. "Hey, open up Serna! Open up! It''s Nagos! King Nagos!"


    The door opened, and Serna looked out frantically. "Quiet, there are legionnaires about! Nagos, what are you doing here?"


    "This is my island," said Nagos, looking a little annoyed.


    "I know, but I mean, I wasn''t expecting you back for a while," said Serna.


    "What are you even doing here?" said Nagos. "I''d thought you''d be working on that steam canon whatchamacallit." He was feigning ignorance, wasn''t he? Nagos wasn''t that dim.


    "I left the palace. I didn''t think it was safe," admitted Serna.


    "What do you mean it''s not safe?" asked Nagos, looking to the ships all around them. "We''ve got an entire fleet here and three more on the way."


    "One moment," said Serena. "You three come in here."


    Then went in quickly, and Serna led them to a table. Servants quickly brought tea as they sat down. Then Serna told them the story. "Listen, Nagos, after you left, the Emperor Octavus took up residence in your palace. He complained extensively about the d¨¦cor, the good, and then... well, he got comfortable."


    "How is that bad?" asked Nagos. "He can say what he wants."


    "He... he''s been tormenting the servants day and night," said Serna. "Always demanding one thing or another and then changing his mind out of spite. His Mother didn''t do anything to reign him in, and he''s been... well... getting worse." A shadow was over her as she spoke.


    Nagos went very, very still, and looked cold. As if his flesh had turned to ice. "What did he do?"


    "He, he called for the finest minstrel on the island to play," said Serna. "Well, Telagix is considered that, since he plays for you and all. But Octavus didn''t like the music so..." She paused.


    "What. Did. He. Do?" asked Nagos, voice cold.


    "He ordered his eyes and tongue cut out, then threw him in the dungeons," said Serna. "He''s also given a royal command that he only be healed enough to live, not to have his senses restored."


    Nagos stood up. "Where is Octavus now?"


    "Having a feast inside your palace," said Serna. "He''s always calling for more food and fine wines. I got out with the rest of the servants after that, and Octavus has brought his own retinue in."


    "Good," said Nagos. "I don''t have to feel sorry about what comes next then."


    "Nagos, wait," said Serna. "You can''t act against him. His legionnaires are patrolling the streets, if anything happens to him, they''ll blame us. They''ll burn us to the ground.


    "Don''t do anything. I know you can, but... but don''t do anything here. Please, they''ll burn this place to the ground."


    Why was she so confident Nagos could kill Octavius, he had no fighting abilities to speak of. No great armies or powerful subordinates. And yet, Sahshir felt a chill as Nagos beamed happily. He had the feeling that Nagos was dangerous enough to do something like that. And provided he could pin the blame on a rival, he could avoid punishment. "Don''t worry about it, Serna. I''m not the kind of guy to get real mad and act all crazy. I''m just going to talk with Octavus and work all this out."


    "Nagos..." said Serna, looking genuinely terrified. But of what?


    Nagos put a hand to her shoulder. "I told you. Don''t worry. Now get me a pen and some paper." One of the servants hurried off and brought it. "I have it."


    "Good," said Nagos. "Thanks a lot, Alagosh." He quickly wrote out several letters, rolled them up, and sealed them. Using his ring, he put his mark on each one. "Now, Serna, go to Sheltath with my ring. Tell him to take you to the people these letters are addressed to. Give them to each one and wait for a reply."


    "What are the letters?" asked Sahshir.


    "Oh come on, Sahshir, let''s leave something for the ending," said Nagos. "Serna, go now." There was a command in that cheery voice, and Serna shuddered, before bowing.


    "Yes, milord," said Serna before taking the letters and hurrying out.


    Nagos'' smile faded and he turned to the door.


    "What are you doing?" asked Narcissa.


    "I''m going to go have a chat with Octavus," asked Nagos, walking out the door.


    "Are you planning to betray him?" asked Narcissa flatly.


    "Of course not," said Nagos. "I just want to talk him into giving Telagix a break."


    What?


    That did not match up with his prior manner at all.


    "What are you doing, Nagos?" asked Sahshir.


    "Making a plan as I go," said Nagos as they walked up toward the palace.


    Sahshir had the feeling this was going to end badly.


    "You there, identify yourself." called a familiar voice.


    Sahshir looked up, and to his surprise, saw Marius coming toward them. He was at the head of a large troop of soldiers. As they neared, he ordered a halt. "King Nagos, King Abdul Sahshir, and Queen Narcissa. Forgive me, we''ve had orders to halt anyone traveling after dark. The Empress Mother is... distrustful."


    "She''s not a Queen," snapped Sahshir, not liking how he was put on the same level as Narcissa. "But a valued subordinate. And we''ve returned from a mission, and we''ve come to report the addition of powerful new allies to the Emperor''s Fleet."


    "So you''re the one in charge of these natives," said Marius coming forward to clasp his three-fingered hand. "King Sahshir, you look well."


    "I wear a mask. Of course, I look well," said Sahshir.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Marius grinned. "Fair enough, follow us to the Emperor."


    On they walked, and as they did, Narcissa looked to Nagos. "Are you sure about this?"


    "Relax, we''ve got nothing but good news," said Nagos. "Hey, um, what''s your name?"


    "I am Captain Marius of the Legions," said Marius.


    "Great, great, so what''s it like where you''re from?" asked Nagos.


    Marius eyed him. "Why do you ask?"


    "Well, I''ve never been to Dinis before, and I thought I might learn about the place," said Nagos. "I''m technically a citizen of that land, so I ought to know more about it."


    "I''m from the province of Alchives, which is in the west," said Marius. "They mostly dodged the disaster at Zigilus while I fought there. They are far south and shielded by mountains."


    "Right, so, you grow olives there, don''t you?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes, my family owns a farm. Why do you ask?" asked Marius.


    "Well, I''m just curious why you joined the Dinis army," said Nagos.


    "To fight and bring glory to my family," said Marius. "To serve the Emperor with all my heart and soul. And to gain wealth."


    "And what do you think of this whole campaign?" asked Nagos. "Do you think the General is running things up to the Emperor''s standards?"


    Marius halted and looked back. "Well, truth be told, I have my doubts about General Aridius. There were rumors that he fled from the field of battle at Zigilus. Rumors that I will say nothing on."


    "Butchers," snarled Narcissa under her breathe.


    "What?" asked Marius, looking at her were a hard gaze.


    "Nothing at all," said Narcissa.


    "Anyway, I''m not sure why he was promoted," said Marius. "Zigilus might have been a victory, but we lost many men. Replacing our losses will take time."


    "Replace?" asked Sahshir. "With no disrespect to your men''s courage. The casualties in that victory were beyond replacement."


    "Dinis always rebuilds," said Marius. "There are many who would kill to fight and die for the Emperor. Even now they are being mustered."


    "Hmm? Is that a saying?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes. It is," said Marius. "Dinis has suffered many catastrophes in its life. We''ve been raided by Babarassians, we''ve seen our homes torn by civil war. But we always rebuild its answer and those that fight us always fail. No matter how many of us must die to ensure they do.


    "You Kalthakians fight for personal glory. We legionnaires fight for the glory of our standard. For our brethren. When your greatest warrior falls, it is a terrible loss. Ours provides motivation to press on.


    "Dinis always rebuilds."


    "Except when you burn entire cities to the ground for having a different religion, of course," noted Narcissa, rightfully bitter.


    "Zigilus launched an unauthorized assault on Kalthak, inviting war with Calisha," said Marius. "They also obviously were planning to unleash a horde of demons on that region. Or they''d never have been able to summon that many on short notice.


    "It is more than likely that we spared those innocents within the city the horror of being devoured."


    "Did you ever meet the Emperor, Marius?" asked Nagos, curious.


    "Few men merit a personal meeting with the Emperor," admitted Marius. "I was congratulated by the Empress Mother and assigned the position."


    "So Atria is the one who runs things?" guessed Sahshir.


    "I gather that she has been acting on his behalf until he comes of age," said Marius, voice guarded.


    "And when will that be?" asked Sahshir.


    "Why are you asking these questions, King Sahshir?" asked Marius. "Deception does no man credit."


    "I wish to understand Dinis," said Sahshir.


    "You cannot understand Dinis without seeing it," replied Marius.


    "Then I shall withhold judgment until that day comes," said Sahshir. But, privately, he was almost certain what was judgment would be. Dinis was on its last legs. Its ruler was less than impressive, it''s armies were failing. The enemies of its people came in from all sides.


    But all that could be survived. It was the rot of corruption that was slowly killing it. No matter how valiantly it fought, no matter how many it killed, it would die. The only question was whether it would live long enough expire of sickness.


    A situation Sahshir could understand.


    "Here we are, the Emperor''s palace," said Marius as they reached the palace high above the city.


    "My palace," said Nagos.


    "Hmm?" asked Marius.


    "This is my palace," said Nagos in a matter of fact, tone. "The Emperor is here as an honored guest."


    "Well yes, I merely meant that this realm is an extension of Dinis and there Emperor is dwelling within," said Marius quickly. "So, for the moment, it is his palace.


    "I did not mean offense."


    "None taken, thanks for taking us this far," said Nagos before giving a smile that didn''t quite reach his eyes.


    On they walked, while Marius returned. Soon they came to the guards, and these wore the opulent dress of the royal guard. One raised a sword. "Hold where you are? Who approaches the palace of the Emperor?" His tone was proud.


    "The allies of Emperor Octavus return with success and victory and wish an audience with him," said Sahshir.


    But Nagos simply walked forward without a word. "I''m King Nagos. I am a Dinis Citizen and a loyal servant of the Empire. I''m going to my house." But as he walked forward, a blade was put to his throat.


    "Stop where you are native," snarled the man, "your barbarian titles mean nothing to me."


    "It''s my house," said Nagos flatly.


    "I have not received permission." said the man. "And I see no reason to-"


    "Will it make you feel better if we wait for the Emperor''s permission to tell him about his now inevitable victory?" asked Sahshir in a fury. "Or shall I just go tell his new allies that the deal is off. Let us in, or I will take my fleets home this very day, and you can fight Sorn on your own.


    "I''ve had more than my share of misfortune on your behalf already, and there are other hills I can die on than this one."


    The guards looked to one another and seemed to speak to one another. "We will tell him. But you would do well to speak with more respect. Emperor Octavus has little patience for disrespect."


    "Does he like music?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    The guard paled slightly at some memory. "...Not really. I recommend keeping any, well, local minstrels out of his way. There was a poor wretch in here recently who lost his eyes and tongue for playing a tune he didn''t like.


    "Not even a satyr deserves that.


    "I''ll keep it in mind," said Nagos.


    So they waited on the doorstep. Nagos stayed in place, while Sahshir paced. Eventually, a servant came back and spoke to the guard. The guard looked up. "The Emperor has given you permission to attend his feast."


    "My thanks to him," said Sahshir, disliking this alliance all the more by the moment. What manner of leader held lavish feasts while a war was on? No, only a fool judged quickly. The feasts might have been a formality, and actual business might be discussed there.


    "You go on ahead," said Narcissa. "You don''t need me here, and I don''t trust myself to be civil after what he did. I''ll just wait here, polish my axe."


    "As you wish," said Sahshir, not begrudging her. Having the leader of what remained of Zigilus present could be a liability anyway. "Do as you like."


    Sahshir and Nagos were escorted into the palace. It was amazing how a place could be so different without a stone out of place. Armed guards were patrolling the center, and the number of torches had been doubled. Garish banners covered the walls. Servants wearing white robes scurried here and there.


    And then they came into the hall, where Sahshir, Nagos, and Narcissa had eaten dinner a little over a week ago. It was all the more transformed. Dozens of courtiers, many of them fat, were eating lavish banquets. Great tables had been set up, and harp music was being played by some very terrified minstrels.


    And the clothes, garish, inlaid with gold and jewels. No man could fight, or work, or even be comfortable in such silken garments. How expensive must these have been? What else could the money spent on such obscene clothes be used for? How many swords could have been forged, or paupers fed?


    It occurred to Sahshir that he and Nagos could hardly compare. Their clothes were worn and travel-stained. Their faces tanned from the sun, and dirt was on their pants. Yet Sahshir regarded this as a mark of pride, at least in comparison to these pigs.


    And there was the Emperor, clad in, was that a diamond waistcoat?! How had no one killed all these people?!


    Oh, and Atria was looking down at them. Sahshir felt to one knee in a demonstration of respect that was entirely hollow. Nagos did more, prostrating himself, as scornful eyes gazed at him."So, I''m told you have won a great victory with no army," said Catria, faint scorn in her voice. She clearly held him in little respect.


    "Well, not exactly," said Sahshir. "But we have set the stage. Show him, Nagos."


    Nagos arose and moved past Atria to offered two scrolls to him directly. Catria looked at him, frozen in horror. "How dare-"


    "What are these?" asked the Emperor.


    "Pledges of support from two of the most influential Pirate Kings in the Islands of Power," said Nagos. "They have agreed to send help on my behalf. All they ask in return is a fair share of any booty taken."


    "Would you explain to me why a ragtag collection of pirates will be of any help to our glorious fleet?" asked Atria.


    "Alcaides and Asrif know these islands better than anyone in the entire world," said Nagos. "The one who controls both of them will be able to move throughout the Islands of Power undetected.


    "They only thing stopping those two from ruling these islands is each other. Now they''ve united under your banner."


    "This news seems to be good enough." said the Emperor. "I''ve already received news that the fleets of Kaltak and Dinis bloodied our enemies. If they bring their fleets to us, Sorn should fall with ease."


    "Well, that''s the problem," said Nagos. "Sorn has this mercenary named Garrick, and we found him conjuring up a powerful storm. We probably shouldn''t combine our fleets all into one bulk group. Otherwise, he might manage to send another storm first."


    Catria moved forward, but the Emperor raised a hand. She halted shuddering. "Then what do you suggest?"


    "Let me bring Chaminus'' fleets, small though they are, to Macshore," said Nagos. "We''ll bolster it with a small core of vessels from your own fleet. If we can but reach Macshore, we can establish defenses. We might make them strong enough to ensure Sorn could hammer at us for months without effect.


    "Sorn will know that this will happen, so they will have to halt us. And here is where our pirate friends may be of help. If they engage us ship to ship, then we can simply draw them off, while the pirates raid their islands. If they do not engage us, we may fortify the island and make it impregnable.


    "And if they have another storm, they will use it on our vanguard.


    "Magic is hard to conjure up like that, and I doubt they''ll be able to call on another."


    "And who will command this, valiant fleet?" asked the Emperor.


    "I''ll lead it personally, of course," said Nagos. "I am the King of Chaminus, so it''s only right that I ought to ensure your safety."


    "What if this plan of your should fail?" asked the Emperor. "And, your fleet is destroyed?"


    "Well then, Sorn will have wasted a lot of manpower on a mere vanguard," said Nagos. "By then, the Kalthakian ships will have arrived. There you may join with them to make a final strike on the weakened Sornian military."


    The Emperor looked to his surrounding courtiers. "...Would that all men had such courage. Ask anything of me, and it shall be yours?"


    Nagos looked around. "I''m told there was a musician here who made a mess of things. In truth, I keep him around more out of pity, as I doubt he''d find work elsewhere."


    "Yes, I know of him." said the Emperor. "He dishonored my company with his spectacle."


    "I''d like permission to have him healed of his injuries," said Nagos. "No doubt, the pain has taught the lesson you intended. It will demonstrate the Emperor''s mercy, as well as his justice."


    The Emperor nodded. "So be it. It shall be so. Send my finest physician to ensure he makes a full recovery. Now, will you join us for our feast?"


    Several of the courtiers looked to be almost fainting. Despite himself. Sahshir wondered if there was not more to the Emperor than there appeared. Nagos bowed his head. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure. However, there is a matter that I believe may interest you. It should be spoken of outside the ears of all save the most trusted of your advisors."


    The Emperor nodded. "Very well then, lead on."


    "Perhaps you should let me see whatever trifle he has, Octavus," said Catria, voice concerned.


    "Mother, you must see to it that the festivities continue," said Octavus, looking at her firmly. "What is this device?"


    "It is a weapon known as the steam cannon," said Nagos. "No doubt you have been told of it." So he was pretending to not know what it is.


    "No," said Octavus, glancing at Aria. "This is the first I have."


    "It may well win us the war," said Nagos. "I would gladly give you a demonstration if you will follow me."


    "Then lead on," said Octavus.


    What was Nagos getting at, here? This was like no revenge plan Sahshir had seen in his life. Nagos led the Emperor away from the court, alongside his guards. Soon they came into a high hall, with many strange instruments within it. At the far end, however, there was only one instrument. A long tube of bronze, pointing toward a suit of armor.


    Sahshir, however, was not allowed within. So he halted outside and listened.


    "What is this place?" asked Octavus.


    "This is a room for experiments," said Nagos. "We''ve built quite a few things for. But this is what I''ll show you."


    "What is this?" asked Octavus.


    "It is known as a steam cannon. You should step away from this," said Nagos. From there, he began his preparations, taking a small sphere, and filling a cup of water. Several other changes were made, and then Nagos lit a match. "You light a fire here, and it boils the water. The water then gradually builds up within the canon until-"


    Then there was an earthshaking bang! The soldiers rushed in, and Sahshir followed. The tube was smoking, and the armor was in shattered pieces. Octavus was looking on with an unpleasant smile. "Marvelous. Such a dent in armor would kill a man."


    "This is only a very small canon," said Nagos. "It would be possible to make them far larger. And the larger they were made, the more destructive they could become. In fact, I''ve already outfitted my fleet with them."


    "Did you design this device?" asked Octavus.


    "No, no, it was a close confidant of mine named Serna," said Nagos. "At the moment, she is performing some business. She wants the pirates to understand their orders."


    "Should that not have been my task?" asked Octavus.


    "Well, they can''t really follow orders like a disciplined army," said Nagos. "They are better used if you direct them in a general area.


    "They know me, and they believe me a fool, a puppet of sorts.


    "I let them think that, and so they leave their ears open to me. I suggest things to them, and they come to believe it was their idea in the first place."


    "You are far more cunning than you let on, Nagos," said Octavus.


    "I like to play the fool and be the master," said Nagos, "rather than to play the master and be the fool. Sort of like some of those who claim to control you."


    "Yes, Mother has begun to forget her place at times," said Octavus, looking aside. "However, it would be highly unfortunate if she were removed. I have considered having her join a temple, but there are some who only accept her authority."


    "Then you have to show where the true authority lies," said Nagos. "You have to demonstrate understanding beyond what she believes. Prove yourself to the court, and she will be defeated without you needing to strike a blow."


    "And how would you have me do this?" asked Octavus.


    "Lead the attack yourself," said Nagos.


    Octavus looked up in sudden shock. "Me? Lead the assault?"


    "You are the Son of Safara," said Nagos. "You won''t fall in battle with her favor, especially with your bodyguard. And what could inspire the men of the fleet more than seeing their Emperor leading the charge? You could drive the armies of Sorn back to their shores."


    "Yet, surely it is the part of the common legionary to do so," said Octavus, looking a bit unsteady.


    "Well, yes," said Nagos. "I''m more in favor of staying in the back myself. But, you must have noticed a lack of motivation among the men. They have become disheartened without a true example. Show them your power, and they will follow."


    Octavus considered this and seemed pleased. "Surely, I must remain to command the fleet itself."


    "Your Generals know what they''re doing," said Nagos. "It is the will to victory you need now."Octavus shifted nervously. "... I''d best return to the feast. I must ponder this matter."


    "Of course," said Nagos. "I''d prefer to remain here and set some things to rights. When a ruler is away, things tend to unravel."


    Octavus departed quickly with his guards. Sahshir watched him leave, feeling strange. Nagos had been infuriated earlier. Serna had clearly thought Nagos had some murderous idea in motion. Yet all he''d done was waste a favor to heal a musician, and then convince Octavus to try leading from the front.


    Though Sahshir doubted Octavus would live very long without his bodyguard. "...I don''t understand." Sahshir said, at last.


    "Hmm?" asked Nagos.


    "Why would you help him?" said Sahshir, for help was what it had been. The Dinis fleet could only benefit from having an Emperor interested in leading. "Do you hope he''ll be killed in battle."


    "I figure he needs the credibility," said Nagos with a shrug.


    "Surely, you must desire revenge," said Sahshir.


    Nagos smiled. "You''re the one who said one must obey their Lord and Master?" S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes, but it is an ideal that is not always applicable," said Sahshir. To himself, he admitted that had his liege lord behaved as Octavus, he should have killed him. Cruel and ineffectual leaders did not survive in Kalthak.


    "Well, I guess I could try seeking revenge," admitted Nagos. "But I mean, come on, what kind of weak revenge would stabbing someone be? Especially if I got a bunch of innocent soldiers killed."Better off destroying him in his mind."


    Sahshir caught an edge in that tone. "What do you mean?"


    "Well, think about it this way," said Nagos, making his way up to the armor. "What makes you, you. Armor? The sword on your back? Who you were born to?"


    "My role and duty," said Sahshir. "As a Lord and Samurai, I am defined by my duties."


    "Wrong," said Nagos. "You are defined by your thoughts. How you behave.


    "Let''s say I killed you right now. You''d go on to the afterlife, or your next life, exactly as you are now."


    "Yes, but I don''t see the point," said Sahshir.


    "So you''d still exist," said Nagos. "Me stabbing you through the heart wouldn''t actually get rid of you, it would only move you. Even if the duties you had in your next life were different."


    "I suppose so," said Sahshir.


    "Now imagine if, instead of killing you, I broke you," said Nagos. "If I destroyed everything you believed. Destroyed everything you hoped for. Then substituted something that was more after my own tastes.


    "Wouldn''t that be a far more brutal revenge?"


    "I don''t see how helping Octavus win a great victory counts," noted Sahshir.


    "Right now, he''s thinking about things he has never thought about," said Nagos. "The gears are turning. He is, whether he likes it or not, changing. Yesterday he was a cruel, horrible, vicious puppet. But if he leads the assault and wins a victory, he''ll be something more.


    "If he works to improve himself, he may gain victory. Maybe he''ll become wise. In a few years, he may have no resemblance to his old self.


    "If you change so completely that you can''t be recognized, are you really the same person? Haven''t you, in a sense, killed the person you once were and become the person you are now?"


    "No," said Sahshir flatly. "You are the same person."


    Nagos blinked. "I mean, you''ll be totally different."


    Sahshir shrugged. "You''ve just changed. And what if he does get killed with all his bodyguard? Then your revenge won''t succeed at all, will it?"


    "Well then, he''ll be dead," said Nagos.


    Sahshir had to admit, he made a fair point. "...Good point."


    "I''d better go get the priest," said Nagos.


    Things were unraveling quickly. Sahshir was not sure whether he wanted Octavus to win a great victory or die a miserable death. Was it too much to ask for both? Probably.

 Chapter Sixteen: A Second Journey

    The next morning, Sahshir found he had overslept in his cabin. He dressed in a hurry, washing his face and shaving. Finding arrangements for apartments in the palace had been trouble enough. The palace was filled with Octavus'' entourage, bustling and speaking in corners. All while turning up their noses at the servants. There was an elaborate gambit pileup going on between officials. It had to do with access to the Queen Mother, and he heard the name Lilas brought it up several times.


    Apparently, the merchant had invested heavily in prostitution and become very rich by Zigilus'' fall. That had gotten him the ear of quite a few people. There had also been mentioned something about Dakan, who was dead.


    Sahshir did not care about this at all. If there was a problem with these silken-clad fops, he was sure violence could sort it out. Granted, they could be a threat. But they sneered at and dismissed Nagos'' officials and servants. Which made them idiots.


    While Sahshir was no political expert, Nagos'' people knew the ground. And since the current gambit pileup was taking place on his ground, it were relevant. The dismissive attitude toward Nagos and his people was potentially suicidal.


    They were alive because Nagos was much smarter than they were. And they weren''t worth killing.


    Whatever plan they had, it would probably fall through during the war. The world was not a gameboard, and anyone who thought so was an idiot. The fact that they thought they could control the outcome meant they didn''t stand a chance.


    And then there were some rumors about the Queen being angry her brother could not come with them. Or something along those lines, Sahshir didn''t really care. Although he was an excellent swordsman, he may be missed.


    Not all of them were polite, of course. Some, primarily the lower ranked, we reasonably courteous. Mostly the sort like Marius, though Narcissa still hated him for Zigilus.


    In the end, he''d slept on the ship rather than stay there. So he was when he got down onto the pier, he saw Nagos speaking with his officers.


    The boy ran to meet him. "Sahshir, there you are. We''re just about ready to go."


    Narcissa was sitting at the pier, high heels hanging down and axe propped over her legs. Her blue eyes were gazing out to sea, and her hair was down, blowing in a sea breeze.


    "I don''t like this, Sahshir," said Narcissa. "We ought to wait for Raj to come and help us."


    "Raj could be away for longer than we can wait," said Sahshir. "In any case, I doubt I''d be any help with him, but on Macshore, I may be of some service."


    "Whatever you say," said Narcissa, standing.


    "Right, let''s get to it," said Nagos.


    "Nagos?" blurted Narcissa.


    "Yes?" asked Nagos in turn.


    "What was on those letters you wrote for Serna to take?" asked Narcissa.


    "It was me making suggestions," said Nagos. "Though I hope they won''t realize they were suggestions."


    "What is that supposed to mean?" asked Narcissa. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, I sort of wrote in such a way that showed my concern," said Nagos. "And also hinted at the best way to go about things without actually saying it outright."


    "Why not just say it immediately," said Sahshir.


    "Because then they wouldn''t do it out of principle," said Nagos.


    The final preparations were made, and the ships moved out of the harbor briskly. Nagos'' vessels were altogether different from what Sahshir was used to. For one thing, they were works of art. They were painstakingly carved with designs of gold dragons and serpents. For another, they had more expansive decks. No doubt to accommodate the devices that Nagos called Steam Cannons. They''d also been set up below deck so that each side of the vessel had eight.


    "Nagos," said Sahshir, "how do you intend to close with the enemy vessels like this?"


    "I''m not," said Nagos. "It''s sort of a strategy." And then he explained how it worked.


    Sahshir had his doubts on the subject as they headed along for the next few days. The weather was good, but the wind started to die down gradually. Eventually, the crew had oar work to go on. Sahshir was able to restore the natural order with the blade, though it took a great deal of work.


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    Even so, their progress was slowed, and it took four days, instead of three, to come within sight of Macshore. It was a flat-looking island, with a vast forest at the center. Looking through a telescope, Sahshir could see that the land dipped further inland. Trees were dispersed throughout the island at set intervals. Between them were farms. Huge numbers of farms were worked by slaves who had chains around their limbs. Some of them were Kalthakian.


    They had been sold like cattle, taken in raids or captured in battle. Sahshir felt disgusted at the idea but kept it to himself. Now was not the time.


    At that moment, Admiral Yin appeared, wearing a blue mask over his armor. All the high-ranking officers in Nagos'' fleet wore masks, except Nagos, who wore no armor. "King Nagos, I''ve just received word from the merfolk. A Sornian Fleet has been spotted heading for it from the opposite side, toward the main port. Unfortunately, at our current pace, we won''t be able to intercept it. "The wind itself seems to have conspired to ensure their victory."


    "We can''t let them land on MacShore," said Sahshir.


    "Actually," said Nagos, "this could work perfectly if I know the Sornians. We''ll wait here out of sight until they land." He motioned to one of the smaller ones. "We''ll wait until they begin their invasion. Knowing them, they''ll want to loot the place."


    "Shouldn''t we seek to prevent that?" asked Sahshir.


    "Nah, if we face them directly, they''ll probably either veer off or go after us smart," said Nagos. "Using the Crescent Moon formation requires the enemy to charge in without thinking. And I know how to get them to do that."


    "Won''t they kill the people in the city?" asked Narcissa.


    "Eh, they''ll want to use them to make their presence legitimate," said Nagos. "And sacking the place completely would wreck the economics. Besides, they''re slaveowners."


    "Why should that make a difference?" asked Sahshir.


    Nagos sighed. "We have a religious bias against slavery in Chaminus. Anyone who keeps slaves must give them up after getting there or be put to death. Anyway, Yin, get us into position.


    "Send out a ship and try to lure them to us, then get us into position. Have them signal us with fireworks once they get the enemy to pursue. Try to draw off as many as you can from the island."


    Yin nodded and went off, giving commands and sending signals. One of the faster vessels went off while Yin gradually arranged the ships. They formed into the shape of a crescent moon, with their guns facing inward. Soon reports came in of the Sornian Fleet. Nagos paced back and forth, but he seemed more impatient than nervous. Narcissa had a strange look on her face.


    "Merfolk?" asked Narcissa.


    "Oh yeah, see this one time my ship sank, and Serna, and I got taken prisoner by the merfolk as a curiosity," said Nagos. "But I convinced the Fish King that I''d be of more use to them on the surface."


    "How did you do that?" asked Sahshir.


    "With a winning smile and my charming personality," said Nagos, beaming.


    "And?" asked Narcissa.


    "And also, I paid them a lot of money," admitted Nagos. "See, at the time, Serna and I were searching for a lot of buried treasure on a unique island using a map we found. So I asked them to release us onto the island, and we''d get them the treasure.


    "In exchange, they gave us transport back home."


    "So you did all that work for nothing." guessed Narcissa.


    "Not quite," said Nagos. "See, I only agreed to give them all the treasure I found. So, when I located the place the map said the treasure was, I dug while blindfolded.


    "So, it was Serna who found most of the treasure. The only treasure I found was a chest of silver my shovel struck, and that''s what I gave the Fish King."


    "How did he take you cheating him?" asked Sahshir.


    "You don''t really think I''d be stupid enough to cheat a god, do you?" asked Nagos. "No, I said right up front that I only found one chest, and Serna found the rest. Therefore the chest I''d gotten them was all I owed them.


    "That way, if the Fish King disagreed, he could just say so.


    "He let it pass, and I returned later after becoming King to collect the rest."


    "So why are you and the Fish King friends?" asked Narcissa.


    "I gave him half of what I collected as a sign of goodwill," said Nagos. "I figured it would do me more good than the money. He was pleased and offered to give me information on ships in the future, and now we get on excellent.


    "Ah, here we are.


    "Now we wait, I guess."


    "Nagos, you are way too enthusiastic about this," said Narcissa. "We''re going to war. People are going to get killed."


    "Only on the other side, if we play things right," said Nagos.


    "Real war isn''t like that, Nagos," said Narcissa. "There are deaths on both sides. My city was sacked. And another city is being sacked while we wait here!"


    "Serna, I mean, Narcissa, don''t worry," said Nagos. "Standard tactics in ship-to-ship combat is to board the enemy vessel and fight. But we''re not going to board them.


    "My Crescent Moon Formation is not standard tactic.


    "As for the city, we can''t do anything about it until we deal with the enemy ship, so there''s no reason to get worried about it."


    And then there was a crack, and a great explosion shot into the sky. Nagos smiled as it rose high. "The ships are returning." He turned to the men, who stood ready. "Alright, men, listen up! Today will be a day of glory! We will destroy the enemy fleet and win eternal victory for Chaminus and Dinis!" Dead silence followed for a moment. Nagos paused and, evidently, decided to change strategies. "Safara willing, by the end of today, we''ll all be rich!"


    A roar of cheers broke out throughout the entire fleet. Sahshir blinked. "That is not the speech I would have made."


    "Eh, gold is a lot more motivating than country," admitted Nagos. "Forward! Start the war drums! Crescent Moon Formation!"


    "You realize that only a few of your ships can hear you, don''t you?" said Sahshir as the drums began. And the ships remained in the formation. "And they are already forming them."


    "Let me enjoy the moment," said Nagos in irritation before walking to the ship''s edge. As the cannon crews stood ready, the lure vessel came back. It shot through the water, and a formation of Sornian ships came behind it. As they saw them, they roared a battle cry and charged forward. The cannon crews made their final preparations as Nagos looked through his spyglass.


    Lowering it, he smiled triumphantly. "There they are."


    Closer and closer came the enemy as Nagos waited. Yin came forward. "All is in place. I pray you were right to leave the Dinis portion of our fleet behind."


    "Are they in range?" asked Nagos as their vessels slipped past.


    "Yes," said Yin.


    Nagos replied by drawing his sword and stepping up onto the bulwark. "All batteries on my mark!" The Sornian fleet was passing into the crossfire. "FIRE!"


    It was like all the lightning and thunder in the world had burst force momentarily. It could not have been more explosive if ten dragons had come roaring down from the sky with fire-belching. A sound like an avalanche roared, and Sahshir found his ears ringing. Nagos fell back, and before Sahshir''s eyes, he saw the Sornian fleets crumble.


    Cannon fire blasted them repeatedly, and each shot shredded part of the ship. Men were ripped to pieces or stabbed with dozens of huge splinters. Masts collapsed, even as Nagos'' vessels moved in to envelop them.


    Slowly Sahshir''s hearing returned, and he watched as an entire fleet was broken. Within moments, several had fallen. Then, even as one barrage of cannons finished, another came in. Sahshir saw Nagos'' men alternate their shots. They moved so quickly, as men who have drilled all their lives.


    The fleet fled, desperately seeking to turn, but it was too late.


    More volleys came in, and these were better aimed. At last, the remnants of the Sornian fleet were reduced to splinters. Not one man had fired an arrow in their own defense. Nor had they been able to turn their fleets around fully to even begin fleeing.


    Massacre could not begin to describe it.


    The screams of the dying, the sight of drowning men in the water.


    It was terrible and awe-inspiring at once. Now Sahshir saw why Chaminus was the home of the heirs of Namina. "Baltoth plan this..."


    "Yes!" cheered Nagos, roars of triumph came from the men. "Did you see that! A whole fleet sunk without a casualty!"


    "People are drowning," said Narcissa.


    "They could have value as hostages," said Yin.


    Nagos sobered at once. "Fair enough. Send out some longboats to take prisoners and see if we can save anyone. Once they''re below decks, we''ll head to McShore and celebrate."


    "King Nagos, MacShore is on fire," said Yin.


    Nagos frowned. "Oh, right. Once they''re below decks, we''ll retake MacShore, and then we''ll celebrate!"


    Sahshir was beginning to see why Serna was afraid of Nagos wrath.

 Chapter Seventeen: The King of the Seas

    The outer parts of the city were in flames as screams resounded with the clash of swords. The smell of death and smoke swept over them with an errant wind as the sun beat down eternally. The cries of battle resounded, but more so the sounds of breaking timber. The Sornians were landing even now, heedless of the defeat that had just been dealt. You could see their blue uniforms distantly and pikes glinting in the glaring sun.


    So much, the better. Sahshir had been hoping for an opportunity to fight on land without the swaying of a ship. Now, at last, he could do battle in conditions most favorable to him.


    "Look at that," said Nagos with a whistle, leaning over the ship''s prow with interest. "Haven''t seen a town this large in flames before. Asrif always hits smaller targets. I hope the people found somewhere safe." He looked at his men. "Head inward; we''ll strafe the fleet and blast their ships to the waterline!"


    "But that''ll have us firing into the city," said Narcissa, glancing to where the Dinis ships had joined them. "Let me and Sahshir land with our guards; we''ll flank them and finish them off."


    "The enemy outnumbers us," noted Sahshir, though privately, he liked Narcissa''s option better. "In a prolonged engagement, we''ll lose."


    "They are heaping their plunder on those ships, King Nagos," said Yin, peering through a spyglass.


    Nagos took the spyglass and looked through it before a roguish smile came to his face. "Then we''ll steal the treasure ships. But, first, Admiral, take the fleet and keep it hidden here. While you do that, I''ll take this ship and seize them.


    "Once the enemy knows we''re stealing everything they own, they''ll give chase. And you''ll spring the trap."


    "What if they detect and move to engage them?" asked Yin.


    "Then I''ll just draw them back here, and you can spring the trap then," said Sahshir, drawing the Sword of Order. "Either way, we win. The Dinis ships should be used for this."


    "Very well then, King Sahshir," said Yin. "Safara coil around you."


    It was fortunate that whoever was commanding the Magnious fleet was overeager. No one was watching them much when loot and plunder were so close to hand.


    Sahshir frowned as messages were relayed between the ships. As they did, the Dinis vessels got into position, rallying troops and shouting orders. They were obviously preparing for a boarding action. "It is written: Those who are overeager to strike will strike too far," said Sahshir after a moment.


    "Written where?" asked Nagos.


    "In the texts of Baltoth," said Sahshir. "He teaches us that mastery over the world requires more than courage, but perfect control."


    "Yeah, well, their fleet is bigger than ours, so we can''t fight them directly," said Nagos.


    The gangplank was lowered, and Sahshir and Narcissa moved across with their guards. There Sahshir met Marius, who nodded to him. "King Sahshir, you are with us again."


    "Captain Marius, are your men prepared?" asked Sahshir as they set out.


    "We are," said Marius. "When we meet the enemy in battle, they will feel the wrath of Dinis."


    "Good," said Sahshir.


    They said little as the crews sent them sailing out into the open toward the port. As they did, someone called a warning. Evidently, they had finally been noticed, and Sahshir saw men rallying up to the vessels.


    More is needed, however. They had been advancing into the city quickly. Too quickly.


    Soon they went up alongside the treasure ship, and every soldier stood as they closed. At last, they were in range. Sahshir sprang over the gap and landed there. He cleaved a pike in half before cutting the throat of the wielder. As the gangplank was set down, he parried a strike and cleaved another man. Then, twisting away from a sword, he cleaved the legs out of a man and then finished him. Rolling forward to evade a stroke, he turned and slashed a man through the heart.


    Then he was surrounded and fighting for his life near the treasures. He ducked under an axe blow and ran the man through but found others hemming him in. Soon he''d be overwhelmed if nothing was done. Then came the horn call. Suddenly, the legions were streaming across the plank and attacking Sorn from behind. Narcissa cleaved down two men with one strike, shattering their shields. Finally, Marius and his men smashed through them, and the battle began.


    Sahshir saw battles raging across the Sornian Fleet as he drove his sword through a man. Dinis had boarded several vessels, but not all were so poorly defended. There was Garrick, his massive blade cutting through shield and armor alike. None who came before he lived, and soon a counterattack was being waged against the borders.


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    "For Calisha!" called Sahshir, cleaving down an officer.


    "For Zigildrazia!" cried Narcissa as she cut a man in two.


    "For the Serpent!" cried Marius and his men.


    At last, the enemy had fled or been killed. Similar scenes were playing out across the decks of the ships. Garrick had seized and sailed a vessel to join the battle on another boat. Another Sornian ship had driven the attackers off at a high cost. But by and large, they had gained the victory.


    Marius raised a horn to his lips and blew it as sailors took charge of the treasure fleet. "Prepare to withdraw! Pull back at once!" called Marius. "We have our prize."


    And so it went, the ships being pulled from the port, not all, but enough to draw attention. They had lost a few ships, but Sorn had suffered worse. The word that the plunder they had gathered was stolen had spread by now. A mass exodus was being done by the Sornians, remanning their ships and coming after them. Horns were blown, and attempts were made to make an orderly formation, but they were beyond reason.


    A ragged formation rushed after them, heedless of caution, into the range of the crescent moon. Nagos'' ships came round the bend and cut between the Dinis fleet and their enemies. And then came the cannon fire. The flash of the guns was blinding if you looked at it; the sound of them was deafening, so your ears went ringing with it. Nagos could be seen walking among his men and making his presence known. Men were torn apart by the metal balls on the Sornian ships. Their comrades fired back with ballista and bows, and several men on deck fell to the arrows.


    Nagos motioned to healers, who rushed forward to treat them at once. Another volley was loaded and shot as an arrow lodged in a shield near Nagos. He looked at it with interest before drawing a ceremonial sword and raising it.


    It was too late.


    Sahshir did not get a good look at what happened; too many vessels were in his way. But he heard the neverending pounding of guns goes on for far longer. The sound of splintering wood was everywhere. And the screams of the dying could have drowned out the cries of the damned in hell. Smoke rose like a demon, ever higher, as husbands, sons, fathers, and brothers were slain en masse.


    When Sahshir came aboard the flagship, he saw the legions and men of Chaminus commiserate. Yet, as he watched, he felt genuinely miserable. Although he understood the need, this form of war was... distasteful.


    Battles ought to be contests of skill, of steel on steel, or arrows against arrows. But these guns had turned it into a massacre. He knew that Nagos'' men constantly drilled under Admiral Yin. But what bothered him was that it didn''t matter how skilled their enemies were. They were lambs to the slaughter.


    Nagos was a chillingly effective leader, however affable he might be. It was quite clear that he had been raised by pirates now. He had seen death and blood and knew how to deal with it, even if not by his hands. Sahshir went up to him now as things calmed down, picking his way over the gangplank and bodies. Narcissa was cleaning her leather armor at the same time.


    "How did you know they''d pursue?" asked Narcissa, curious.


    "Soldiers don''t care about nations and gods," said Nagos with a shrug. "Even if they think they do. They want to get rich. So Sorn has a standard procedure where all the loot is piled in one place and then evenly distributed. Extra rewards are handed out according to personal valor.


    "We''d taken everything they''ve won by stealing the ships."


    Sahshir looked to the distance and noted that not all Sornians had fallen into the trap. Some were drawing back to the island, who had been wise enough not to attack.


    "Let us pursue and destroy those," said Marius.


    "No, let them go!" said Sahshir quickly. "Order the ships to let them go!"


    "What, why?" asked Nagos.


    "If we trap the Sornians on the island, they''ll burn the place to the ground," said Sahshir. "We''ve got to give them an avenue of escape."


    Nagos shrugged. "Sure, whatever you want. I guess we could save the slavers'' lives. They are people, I guess."


    Marius looked faintly offended by this, but he said nothing. Sahshir did not blame him. What did Nagos have against slavers anyway? It would be best not to bring it up here, however.


    Even as it happened, Sahshir saw vast crowds of soldiers rushing up to try and leap into the ships. There were too few to be taken away. Through the spyglass, Sahshir saw Garrick calmly take his men off the vessel. He spoke quickly to them, and they headed into the city.


    The vessels were drawing off, and as Sahshir and company landed, they faded into the distance. Then, leaping onto the pier, he led the men into the city. At the same time, Nagos sent many of his ships to act as a rearguard. So Nagos was with the attack, holding his sword forward as he advanced. Slightly behind heavily armed guards, of course.


    They did not meet resistance.


    Nor did they meet many bodies. Instead, the further they went, the more signs of looting they found alongside many living people. There were a few armed bodies around, possibly local militia. Yet there wasn''t any sign of a serious scuffle.


    By all accounts, Sorn walked in.


    And now they were walking out.


    Their path soon led them to the outer wall, facing the island. What fool would build fortifications only on the interior? Invaders from the sea were the principal threat. Scaling to the top of the wall, they saw Garrick leading his forces inland. They carried no gold or jewels but more significant numbers of practical supplies. Bags of flour, and tools, many of which looked to have been looted from the city. They were heading into the swamp.


    What was the man thinking?


    It hardly mattered; the men were too tired to pursue. Nagos moved to the back of the wall and looked down on them from above. Why were there crenelations on the back? Who would besiege them from within?


    "Victory!" called Nagos to his assembled forces. "We have victory!"


    "Hail Nagos, King of the Seas!" called someone.


    "HAIL THE KING OF THE SEAS!" called the men of Dinis and Chaminus alike. "HAIL! HAIL! HAIL!"


    It was a strange moment. As Nagos heard the title spoken, though his posture did not change, his face was struck with horror for a moment. He shuddered and looked around at the flames before looking at Sahshir. "Get a fire brigade together; we''ve got to put those out. Now!"


    It was the first time Sahshir had seen Nagos afraid of anything. And he was terrified. Sahshir got the fire brigade. As he did, he wondered what had possessed his friend to make his hour of glory like poison.


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 Chapter Eighteen: Greetings by Two Masters

    Even as Nagos organized the fire brigade to combat the flames that had taken hold of part of the city, he looked pale. His gaze kept looking to the sea as if expecting some unfathomable horror to rise from it. Sahshir became concerned for him and wondered if some enemy had been heralded by the words. As the flames gradually died down and the wounded were tended to, Sahshir opted to confront him.


    "Why are you afraid of the title they gave you?" asked Sahshir.


    "It''s nothing, just..." Nagos shuddered. "Well, one of the titles that the Fish King goes by when he takes direct mortal form is ''King of the Seas.'' So I''m kind of afraid he''ll take offense."


    "There''s more to this than that, isn''t there?" asked Sahshir. Nagos did not seem one to fear divine retribution for a name.


    "Yes, but I''m not talking about it," said Nagos.


    "As you wish," said Sahshir.


    "Do you believe in destiny?" asked Nagos suddenly.


    "Destiny is a fact, Nagos," said Sahshir flatly. "The Goddess of Weaving, Rioletta, also weaves the threads of fate."


    "Yes, but do you believe you can defy it?" asked Nagos.


    "It is irrelevant," said Sahshir. "If fate can be defied, you may do so without obsessing over it. If it cannot, then there is no point in thinking of it."


    Then Narcissa appeared, having broken off from them during the fighting. "Nagos, the garrison commander, wishes to speak with you."


    Nagos nodded. "Let him through."


    The garrison commander, a lean man with long, white hair, came up the steps. He did not bow, which Sahshir found offensive, and given his poor performance, he ought to have been hung. But bringing the matter up was of no real help. "King Nagos, King Sahshir, your arrival was timely; I am Romilin Aukas, the governor. May I ask your purpose here?"


    "We have been dispatched as the vanguard of the Emperor," said Sahshir. "We are but the first wave of this army."


    "It seems the first wave has been enough," noted Romilin.


    "It doesn''t matter," said Sahshir. "Where are your militia? Why did they yield the city so quickly?"


    "My men are not used to facing professional soldiers," admitted Romilin. "The militia is meant to crush slave revolts and keep order."


    "What about the legions?" asked Nagos. "Shouldn''t there be some here?"


    "They..." Romilin paused. "The legions were withdrawn some months ago, to be honest. With all the fighting around Zigilus, they were drawn back to the mainland. They never came back."


    "Well," said Sahshir, "we are here now. All preparations must be made to deal with the remaining Sornian forces. They forced their way out the gate without a fight and fled into the marshes."


    "Surely they''ll die of diseases there," said Nagos.


    "They are half-Harlenorian at least," said Sahshir flatly. "Laevian may favor them. If so, she will draw her diseases away.


    "Baltoth warns that a defeated enemy may still slay the unaware."


    Nagos paused, looking a little uncomfortable as all eyes turned to him. "Sahshir, Narcissa, keep watch at the gates. I''ll see to organizing the fire brigade. We can save some material worth having.


    "I will assist you in this, King Nagos," said Romilin.


    "We''ll focus on releasing slaves first," said Nagos.


    "You want to free the slaves?" asked Romilin in horror.


    "We''ll give them back to you once this is over and compensate you for the damages," said Nagos. "For now, we need to stop the fire. The extra manpower will help a lot. Now grab a bucket; we need you.


    "Sahshir, you''re in charge, I guess."


    And he rushed off like a man pursued by the hells themselves. Sahshir began to wonder if Nagos fear was not so much cosmic horror, as a desire to avoid responsibility. So long as he was on an adventure where he could duck out at any time, Nagos seemed happy. However, now he was being given a position of authority. One that didn''t involve adventures.


    "Nagos just leveled two fleets twice the size of the one we fought with hardly a casualty," said Narcissa. "And now he looks afraid of a little fire." S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "He likes dodging responsibility." guessed Sahshir. "While with the fleet, he only had to make a few decisions and could be on the high seas. Far preferable to running Chaminus."


    "He didn''t seem like a bad king," noted Narcissa.


    "His method is to be personable." mused Sahshir. "Appear as a man who just so happens to have the position of King. Then, using it, he decides, but he would much rather not have to.


    "This place presents him with problems that cannot be solved so easily. I expect he will find a reason to return to sinking Sornian vessels soon."


    "That''s a bit harsh," said Narcissa.


    "It is probably for the best," said Sahshir. "What do you think of this, Narcissa?"


    "The battle?" asked Narcissa. It was more than a victory.


    "No, I mean, all the slaves," said Sahshir, remembering the sight of men in chains.


    Narcissa blinked in surprise as if it had never occurred to her. "Slaves belong to their masters. The masters may do as they please with them."


    "We don''t practice slavery in Kalthak for a reason," said Sahshir. "Our warriors may sell some into the markets of the Medi. But it is illegal to keep them in our land."


    "Why?" asked Narcissa.


    "Men belong to themselves and Baltoth alone," said Sahshir. "To claim ownership over a mortal is to dispute Baltoth''s authority."


    "Aren''t the Medi active practitioners of slavery?" asked Narcissa. "I read about them."


    "It is a crime," said Sahshir. "Baltoth''s allows some crimes and uses those in pursuit of perfect order."


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    "I don''t really care about slavery," admitted Narcissa.


    Sahshir looked at her flatly. "You''re joking." So the transformation of men into chattel was meaningless to her?


    "I belong to Zigildrazia, as do all our people," said Narcissa. "Why do you think we blame Dinis for what they did and not her? We are hers and are hers to do with as she wills. It''s the same with slaves and their masters."


    "Do you hold no value of your own people?" asked Sahshir, remembering the vacant gaze of her countrymen. Like their souls had been suppressed.


    "Nothing that would make me work against Zigildrazia," said Narcissa. "You''re a devout follower of Baltoth. If he told you to die, you would, wouldn''t you?"


    "Yes," admitted Sahshir. "But I would trust that it would be in pursuit of perfect order. What great cause would Zigildrazia seek?"


    "Her own entertainment, I suppose," said Narcissa as if that was a satisfactory answer. Though even she didn''t fully believe it, Sahshir could tell by her voice.


    Looking up, he saw the flames dying out. "The fire is dying down, isn''t it?"


    And then Sahshir felt something.


    It was like what they had felt in the cave, only stronger. Sahshir set his hand to his sword. Narcissa did the same for her axe. "Something is wrong."


    A black cloud emerged from the earth, growing larger and larger to encompass the wall. Sahshir drew his sword as he felt the curse of hatred.


    "Demons," said Narcissa.


    "More than that, Narcissa." said a familiar tone.


    Sahshir raised the sword of order, channeling the power to break the spell. The clouds parted, and Garacel stood before them. His black skin could hardly be seen beneath his armor, and the Blade of Chaos was at his side.


    "Master Garacel," said Narcissa.


    "You," said Sahshir.


    Sahshir calculated that a direct confrontation could result in a loss. However, with Narcissa as an unknown element and no power from Baltoth, it would not be wise to battle here. And Garacel was here to talk, wasn''t he? "Speak your peace, Garacel. We both know the terms of our arrangement."


    "In truth, I''ve come to thank you," said Garacel. "Releasing the spirit of hatred into the world has given me a chance I need to attain a domain in my own right."


    "You will never attain any divine rank, Garacel," said Sahshir simply.


    "I already am," said Garacel. "my plans are in motion as we speak. Which is why I''ve come to deliver a warning to you. Leave this island at once."


    "Why?" asked Sahshir.


    "The atrocities committed by those here will soon return to them," said Garacel. "Generations of rage long-suppressed will soon be unleashed.


    "When all is finished, none shall remain here save those who bore the yolk of slavery."


    "You will achieve nothing while I draw breath," said Sahshir. He would not allow another Zigilus.


    "That is your own decision," said Garacel. "You may remain and witness the destruction if you so choose."


    His hawk wings beat, and he soared upward, vanishing from sight.


    The cloud of hatred vanished.


    Narcissa lowered her axe as Sahshir released his sword. Turning, he saw Marius and some of his men climbing the steps. They had drawn swords in their hands and looked grim. Halting, they looked around.


    "Sahshir, what happened?" asked Marius. "I felt a presence that was familiar."


    "Garacel has returned," said Sahshir. "We''ll have to deal with more than just Sorn."


    Narcissa paused. "Not an enemy of mine, Sahshir. We might be able to reason with Master Garacel-"


    "He speaks of using the hatred of this island to destroy everyone. Or everyone who does not now wear the yolk of slavery, at least," said Sahshir flatly. "Negotiation is not an option unless you want to abandon this place."


    "He''ll start a slave revolt," guessed Marius.


    Sahshir blinked and considered that it made sense. But he was surprised that Marius had come to a conclusion so quickly.


    "You do not know that," said Narcissa, as if the suggestion was a mortal sin.


    "I''ve read my histories," said Marius. "My Father, Cato, fought a Kalthakian invasion in his youth. One of the things they did was free the slaves that worked our lands in the hopes that they''d bolster their forces.


    "Some harsher masters were killed, but my family had its slaves remain true.


    "Afterward, we had laws about the proper treatment of slaves. To ensure a repeat incident did not happen, obviously. Though they are only for my home province."


    "He''ll make contact with Garrick in the wilds, start freeing slaves and training them in war." guessed Sahshir. "Then he''ll start launching larger raids.


    "That''ll probably cause the planters to get paranoid and start all kinds of atrocities. Which will inspire lots of hatred, I think. Perhaps that is how he intends to prove worthy of godhood. In the meantime, Sorn might send another fleet, and Dinis won''t sit it out. There will be hate and murder."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Narcissa.


    "That''s what I would do," said Sahshir.


    "So what should our next course of action be?" asked Marius.


    "We''ll need to secure the island for now." mused Sahshir. "The rest can wait."


    "We do not know this island," said Marius. "We will need local guides. And even with them, we lack the manpower to cover it."


    "Then we shall send out an order that the plantations must make some of their men available for the militia." mused Sahshir. "They would need many of them to enforce their hold on so many slaves."


    "That will not go over well with them," said Marius.


    "Why?" asked Sahshir.


    "Plantation owners in Macshore live in perpetual terror of a slave revolt," said Marius. "They won''t want to give up even one man to fight with us. Our legionnaire marines number perhaps a thousand. With your own men, we have more.


    "It will be difficult winning if Sorn can gain reinforcements or drag the conflict out. Men here become sick."


    "How unfortunate for them," said Sahshir flatly.


    And then Nagos came back. He looked a little less afraid than before and was putting on a confident face. "Alright, the fires have been doused. We also managed to save a decent number of supplies as well.


    "We''ve also been trying to sort out which part of the treasure ship belongs to who."


    "I don''t suppose we could just take it all for ourselves?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    "That''d be stealing," said Narcissa.


    "No, it would be plunder," said Marius. "The Sornians stole it from them. Now we have stolen it from the Sornians in a fair battle. So it has changed owners twice."


    "Yeah, but everybody knows it belonged to Macshore." said Nagos. It probably wouldn''t go over well if we took it for ourselves. So I figure we ought to hand it all back, be neighborly, you know." He paused. "On a separate note, Sahshir, Narcissa, Marius, I need you to take over for me."


    "What?" asked Marius. "Why?"


    "I''m not going to be any good here, so I''m heading back to the fleet," said Nagos. "I''m going to see if I can sink more enemy ships. That way, I can keep Sorn off your backs and do some damage."


    "As I predicted," said Sahshir to Narcissa, who hmphed in irritation.


    "You''re leaving," asked Marius.


    "Sure," said Nagos. "We''re still at war with Sorn. My ships will be of far more use sinking Sornian fleets than having my crews scouring the island."


    "That will cut down our manpower significantly," noted Marius.


    Nagos snapped. "Alright, look, I don''t want to defend these people. I stopped here on a ship once and explored the place a bit and...


    "Well, what I saw will haunt me.


    "I don''t want to fight to defend this place, especially from former friends. Unfortunately, there are people from Chaminus wearing those collars. So I''m going to go do my duty someplace else."


    "Nagos is right, in any case," said Sahshir.


    "Sahshir?" asked Nagos, blinking.


    "A ship in the harbor is doing no one any good," said Sahshir. "And clustered here opens them for a fireship. He''ll do more damage to Sorn on patrol."


    "Right, I''ll be back in a few weeks," said Nagos. "Tell me how things go when I return."


    And he moved off at a jog.


    "Well, he was in a hurry," noted Narcissa. "Why would he hate this place so much?"


    "King Nagos does not seem to stay focused on any one thing at a time," said Marius in bemusement.


    "He certainly seems good at achieving things in a limited time," said Sahshir. "Come, Marius, let''s make preparations for our search."


    Narcissa walked off. "Do whatever you want, Sahshir."


    Sahshir noted the bitterness in her tone and followed her to the broken gates. "Where are you going?"


    "To speak with Master Garacel. And hunt Garrick," said Narcissa.


    Sahshir remained silent for a moment, considering things. "Very well, then. But return within the week."


    Narcissa nodded and moved off. Marius stepped after her, but Sahshir caught him by the shoulder. "Let her go, Marius. She is bound to me; should we be destroyed, so will her people. Narcissa will not betray us."


    Marius faltered. "If you believe so, Sahshir." And so they set about their own tasks. The die, so to speak, was cast.

 Chapter Nineteen: The Plantation

    Days later, and after much work, the die had not yet fallen.


    Sahshir had spent the time since Nagos had left improving the defenses. The harbor was secured with towers and a chain across it. Meanwhile, Marius began drilling the militia properly and rebuilding the towns. He had nothing but unkind things to say about their state in private.


    Though they softened his words when speaking to figures of authority.


    Messages were sent out to every plantation, the fastest runners. Others were sent by boat to land near them. Romilus assured them that it was only half a day to the nearest plantation, at the least.


    "Why so spread out?" Sahshir had asked him.


    "Well, the landowners control most of it," said Romilus. "We don''t have the same small farms you''d see in Dinis. So much of the land around this town belongs to them.


    "There are some tenants, of course, but they don''t control the land. Merely take care of things we don''t trust to the slaves."


    And that had left them waiting. And waiting.


    Sahshir despised waiting. He far preferred to attack problems directly. But the scouts dispatched into the wilds to find Garrick had yet to bring anything. Moreover, Narcissa was nowhere to be found, and Sahshir doubted she''d be of much help in any of this in the first place.


    What he really feared was an alliance between Garrick and Garacel. If the two combined their efforts, they could both raise and train an army of their own. It would be one that outnumbered Sahshir''s own forces by ten to one.


    "Where are they?" Sahshir hissed one day after a day of settling disputes and easing tensions.


    "The messengers ought to have returned by now with the replies," said Romilus. "Perhaps they have been intercepted."


    "Don''t be absurd," said Sahshir. "Garrick and Garacel could not have caught all of them at once. Is it possible the planters are deliberately delaying?"


    "They may be considering their reply," said Romilus.


    "Considering their..." Sahshir checked himself, greatly desiring to slash something. "I gave an order by the authority vested in me from the Emperor. I told them we needed men for the militia. If the situation was so bad that they could not spare any, they should have sent back a flat refusal." He turned around. "Dozens of planters. Hundreds of freemen. Thousands of slaves.


    "And apparently, not one of them has any sense."


    "They may not understand the need," said Romilus. "Most battles between nations leave Macshore intact so as not to destroy the profits-"


    "Garacel doesn''t care about profits," said Sahshir. "He wants to win. And he is willing to utterly and completely annihilate his own holdings to do so. So if sending this entire island to the grave is the best means of gaining victory, he will do it."


    "It may be wise to explain that to them directly, then," said Romilus. "Remember, you are a Kalthakian. One of the... well... one of those races from which many of our slaves come. These men prefer to avoid being told what to do with their resources at the best of times. They resent taxes from Dinis, as well as everything else we order.


    "That such an order has come from you... well... it may have been considered some form of conspiracy."


    "If I wanted to free their slaves, I would march up to their plantations and kill them all." snapped Sahshr. "I need no conspiracy to destroy a nation populated entirely by people who hate it.


    "I will ensure they understand that when I draft their men for military service. Munrus of Antrus is the closest, is it not?"


    "Yes," said Romilus. "He''s one of the larger ones, and his family has been here since MacShore was taken from Sorn.


    "Actually, before that. Many of the plantation-owning families have seen several different nations. They have their own cultural identity, and many have spoken of independence. They don''t like taxes."


    Sahshir stared at him. That was funny.


    Then it happened. Before he knew what was happening, he began to laugh. He shook physically as he thought of these men staging a revolution. Romilus blinked as he looked at them, and Sahshir realized his body was in pain.


    It was becoming quite agonizing, and that stopped it.


    For the most part.


    "Is something funny, King Sahshir?" asked Romilus.


    "The idea of a revolution by this island," said Sahshir. "You have an upper class who owns all the land and keeps the freeman entirely in their power. Meaning there is no means by which a freeman may improve his lot.


    "So if such a revolution succeeded, the freemen would immediately try to kill all the rich. They''d want to take their lands. With no legions to call on from outside, there would be no means to keep the social order intact. Meanwhile, the vast majority of the population hates the rest of it with a fiery passion. Given a chance, they would murder everyone involved to take the land for themselves.


    "With extreme acts of terror, perhaps you could keep the lower classes in line. But only until a new nation came along, killed everyone, and created their own plantations."


    "I think you overestimate the slaves," said Romilus. "You see, they hardly understand orders. Often they feign illness to get out of work. They are a lazy and stupid race."


    "Do I look lazy and stupid to you?" asked Sahshir, not amused.


    Romilus froze. "I... I meant no offense to you, but surely..."


    "Every race in the universe can be both a terrible enemy and a steadfast friend," said Sahshir. "Do not underestimate our enemy. If I were a slave, forced to labor for a master I despised, I might feign stupidity. By doing so, I could hurt him without fear of punishment. Wouldn''t you?"


    Romilus shuddered with the look of one who noticed a terror he had ignored for years. "I am certain Munrus will understand our plight. Just be wary, it is harvest time, and tempers tend to flare."


    "I''ll be certain to be cordial, of course," said Sahshir. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Even so, he hardly felt cordial as he strode down the road with his guards. Marius came as well, marching alongside a portion of his forces. It was only a short time before they came to the fields, where even now, people were working in chains. There were satyrs, dwarves, humans, and even some elves.


    "Move at it, satyr!" snarled a taskmaster, cracking a whip. "If these aren''t done by the end of the day, I may decide you''re not worth the food you eat!


    "Get at it!"


    One man staggered and fell, obviously exhausted. The taskmaster moved forward, raising a whip. "You, get on your feet before I crush ''em!"


    The old man staggered up and moved on.


    "Another glorious foe of Dinis vanquished, farmer?" asked Sahshir.


    "Enforcer, actually." said the man quickly. "My job is to keep this lot working so they don''t have time to plan anything. So who are you folk coming down here?"


    Sahshir supposed he should be glad he was not dismissed for his race. Perhaps it was the weapons. Though it was, Marius came forward. "I am Captain Marius of the X Dinis Legion. With me is our ally, King Abdul Sahshir of Kalthak. We are here about the levees. A message was sent; did you receive it."


    "Well, I did see a messenger ride down here." said the man. "Didn''t say anything to me, just moved to the big house. Then he headed back.


    "Might have been shot. There are gangs of escaped slaves that live in the wilderness. We''ve been trying to wipe the bastards out for years, but, well, there are always more defiant ones to fuel them.


    "I remember once we caught near the entire gang and crucified them along that roadway.


    Course, one escaped, that devil Bas. And he went and started things all over again."


    "My sympathies," said Marius far too easily. "Where is your master? I would speak with-"


    "Abdul, Abdul, is that you?" came a cry.


    Abdul looked up and saw an old man with white hair. Had the hair been black, it would have looked like someone he''d known when young. Was that... Aresif?


    "Quiet you, we''ve heard enough from-" began the man.


    "Stay your whip, taskmaster," said Sahshir, coming forward. "Aresif? The storyteller. How did you come to be here? I thought you were killed by pirates."


    "I was taken as a slave and sold here," said Aresif, his skin scarred and body tanned from the sun. "Please, Sahshir, for the love of your father, set me free."


    Sahshir felt nothing at seeing him, though he knew he should. He had an obligation to him and nodded. "I will see to the matter personally. You, I would buy this slave''s freedom. Unchain him."


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    "You want me to-" began the taskmaster.


    "How much?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    "He cost us thirty silver." said the taskmaster, voice hostile.


    "You''re a liar," said Sahshir, who''d kept abreast of prices. "Aresif disappeared five years ago and was just another slave to you then. How quickly you seem to recall a price well above anything reasonable."


    "Enough," said Marius quickly. "We have no more time for this. We will take the man as payment for being forced to come here. Open the chains, or we''ll break them."


    The taskmaster eyed them. He was aware that they could quickly chop him into tiny pieces. "Whatever you say."


    The chains were unlocked, and Aresif came forward. Sahshir offered him some water, and as he did, he saw other Kalthakians crying out to him. He could not free them all, not now. For a moment, he looked at them, then away.


    "Thank you, Sahshir," said Aresif, clasping his hand. Then he saw the ring on it, one Sahshir hardly thought about. "You have become a King? Is Aresh then dead?"


    "In a manner of speaking," said Sahshir, wondering how the man had recognized him.


    "Why do you go masked?" asked Aresif. "Has the curse..."


    "Yes," said Sahshir, helping him up. "I do not have much longer."


    "I''m sorry," said Aresif arose. "Though I expect I won''t last much longer either. Did you ever marry or have children?"


    "My uncle will succeed me," said Sahshir.


    "Well, at least you wear the ring of rulership," said Aresif.


    They journeyed on, and Aresif walked with them, asking many questions. "How fairs Kalthak?"


    "I am more concerned for you," said Sahshir, reflecting that Aresif''s understanding of the slaves'' plight could be useful. "What kind of man is the master of this place?"


    "I don''t know, I''ve never seen him," admitted Aresif. "I work day and night to harvest his sugarcane. I''m the only one of my generation left alive. Though, it''s better than the sugar plantations."


    "Why?" asked Sahshir.


    "They don''t feed you at the sugar plantations," said Aresif. "Slaves die so quickly from what goes on there that it isn''t worth the money. They just work them to death. The owner of this area doesn''t do sugar; he prefers to sell food."


    "What do you mean that you''re the last of your generation?" asked Marius.


    "Yes, the slaves imported in my shipment," said Aresif. "They work us until we break, but this old man does not intend to satisfy them.


    "House slaves have a better lot, provided they don''t anger their master.


    "But I don''t know his nature."


    "We had best be silent," said Sahshir. "We''re approaching the manor."


    And silent, they went.


    When they finally arrived, they found that the main building on the plantation was a huge manor. Oddly enough, there was only one door. The lower walls were of stone, but the woodwork was fairly elaborate. Sahshir wondered how it had been built, even as he slowed to walk behind Marius.


    Out of doors came a man, fat in the stomach but not without muscle. He had a mustache, a sharp contrast to the clean-shaven men of Dinis. With him were men with spears, though they wore no uniform. The man, Munrus, Sahshir presumed, bowed quickly. "A Captain of the Legionnaires here? I am Munrus, the owner of this plantation. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"


    "A matter of great importance," said Marius. "Messengers were sent to call up a levy of able-bodied men in order to defend against Sorn.


    "Yet none have arrived from you or the other planters."


    Munrus immediately went silent. "I see.


    "We will do no such thing."


    "You mistake an order for a request," said Marius.


    Munrus shifted under Marius'' gaze, then looked to the fields where slaves were looking on. "If I follow that order, this whole plantation will collapse in on itself!" he said in a low tone. "Why should I sacrifice even a day''s profit so you legionnaires can laze about? I need these men to keep control of the slaves. If I send them away, the slaves will start plotting against us.


    "They''re always scheming something in their slave tongue. So you''ll have an army of slaves rising up as soon as you defeat the Sornians."


    "Slave tongue?" asked Marius.


    "A mixture of the races," said the man. "We tried forcing the animals to room with those they didn''t speak the language of, but they''ve figured one out."


    Marius looked disturbed at this. "Surely they are men like you are or I. Even if they are reduced to slavery."


    "They are my property, and I''d ask you not to tell me what to do with them," said Munrus. "And who are these dark skins? Are they stolen property?"


    Sahshir''s hand was to his sword before he could stop himself. He, the King of Kalthak had been called a slave. The man would die here. But his hand was caught by Marius. "Forgive the disrespect, Sahshir. He does not know who you are, and our plight is dire."


    Sahshir held Marius'' gaze for a long moment. Then, finally, he sheathed it. "I will put the matter from my mind for now." He made a mental note to kill the man as soon as the threat was ended. Or perhaps he could arrange for him to be put into a position to be killed? Baltoth taught that indirect revenge was the best kind since it couldn''t be traced back to you.


    Marius then turned to Munrus. "You have just insulted a King, Munrus. And a trusted ally who is a personal friend of the Emperor himself.


    "You will apologize immediately."


    Munrus shifted. "I... was unaware of your noble blood, of course. You have my apologies; most of my time has been spent with... the less intelligent parts of your race."


    Sahshir took the apology for what it was. "The matter is ended."


    "In any case," said Marius. "You seem to have mistaken the strategy of the enemy. Their plan is to start a slave revolt. If all the slaves in this plantation were to rise up at once, would you be able to stop them?"


    "They would not manage it," said Munrus. "We ensure they know their place and can''t communicate. My family has been doing this for generations."


    "And I have no doubt your methods are sound," said Marius. "Still, what if they were to be freed and organized? Imagine an army with nothing to lose, brought under the heel of a competent leader. An army that goes from plantation to plantation, killing without mercy. As they do, they gather greater strength and kill all they find.


    "Once the enemy gains momentum, we will have difficulty stopping them. That is why we need your men to act as guides." Marius looked around. "Naturally, we will give you half their pay as compensation."


    Munrus shifted. "...Well, I suppose I could spare some of my better pathfinders. We use them to track down escaped slaves. We''ve learned to keep things as they ought to be well." He glanced at one of the rough-looking men. "You, get Akath One-Eye down here with his men and dogs. We''ll lend him to these."


    "Blood..." said a voice from everywhere and nowhere.


    Sahshir looked up and felt it coming. Drawing the Sword of Order, he planted it and used its power. He felt the wave flowing over the land and set himself against it. Then, like a tsunami, it slammed into his will, washing over him.


    Screams came from around them.


    "Ready your weapons!" said Sahshir. "The enemy comes!"


    "Do as he says," said Marius. "Sahshir knows this."


    The men quickly prepared, grasping weapons as noncombatants were herded into doors. Soon, some of the men from before came running. "Master, we''ve got a rebellion on our hands!"


    As they did, the slaves came forward. Old men, old women, ones who walked with limps. They rushed forward, writhed in a blackness, snarling like feral animals. Finally, one of the men was overtaken and beaten to death.


    "What is this?" said Munrus.


    "KILL THEM!" roared Garacel. "SLAUGHTER THE SLAVERS! DEATH TO THE TASKMASTERS!"


    "Legionaries, form up at the gate!" said Marius. "Sahshir-"


    Sahshir charged forward to meet them, rushing forward with his blade. Slashing the air, he sent forth his will. It clashed with the blackness, fighting the curse upon them. Yet Sahshir saw that all of these people were unlikely to survive long. They had languished in silent bondage with unending hatred suppressed out of fear.


    Order could not drive it out.


    The curse of hatred remained, and they were on him. Stepping back, Sahshir tried again and had some results. The blackness faded in a few, who died at once. Then he was fighting for his life, hacking and slashing. Limbs were cut, and hearts pierced before his men joined him.


    "DEATH BEFORE CHAINS!!" came Garacel''s voice again.


    "What is this?


    The slaves pressed on with greater and greater hatred. As they did, they were writhed in more blackness. Soon they seemed to take on the monstrous form of demons. In moments, several of Munrus'' men were ripped to shreds, and most of the rest ran. Sahshir saw one of his warriors cleave down one of the demons, only to be impaled from behind.


    Marius'' legionnaires joined the fray, hacking with their swords. Soon the fighting became fiercer as more demons in the guise of slaves came forward. And then Munrus returned, holding a sword and leading the rest of his men.


    Soon the battle was going on further as claws met weapons. The screams of the dying were everywhere. One enemy after another was killed, and yet there were always more.


    Of course, there were.


    The slaves outnumbered the masters by more than ten-to-one. Fear held them in check, and now hatred had driven them past that fear. Garacel''s power had inspired them to fury unimaginable. It had blessed them with a chance for vengeance.


    Vengeance.


    The hope of men with no hope. The chance to hurt those who have stripped all dignity, all chance for the betterment from you.


    There were no Kalthakians in this place, Harlenorians or Sornians, or any other. These men had been stripped of their identities, goals, and desires. They had been rendered no more than animals. And now they had arisen in bloody fury. The eradication of those responsible is their sole purpose for being.


    And then there were only corpses among them.


    Many of Munrus'' men had been killed, and a few of Sahshir''s men had died. Marius''s force was, for the most part, unscathed. Still, at least the local militia were somewhat valuable. They might make adequate arrow fodder.


    Still, why were only the old, the infirm, the sick, and the blind here? None of these slaves could be considered able-bodied. "This isn''t all of them," said Munrus. "Where are the rest?"


    "A distraction." guessed Sahshir. "These slaves are all sick, old, or crippled. Someone must have sent these ones to attack us while they drew off a large portion of the healthier slaves.


    "Search the fields; look for survivors."


    The fields, as it turned out, had been set on fire. The crops had been harvested and taken off, and what could not be taken was burned. As a result, bodies were all around them.


    "That''s thousands of silver worth of property!" said Munrus in horror. "My crops will rot in the field!" So there was such a thing as justice.


    "I would say we have far more serious issues." Sahshir said, glancing to Aresif. "Was there some sort of plan?"


    "No, the masters always try to keep us isolated," said Aresif. "There is no way they could have organized this many slaves without someone hearing about it. And how could they get them to die like this?"


    "I do not know," admitted Sahshir, reflecting that they were better off now. At least they had died while killing many of their oppressors. Any world with fewer people like Munrus would be better by all accounts. "But Narcissa may well be the one to find out."


    And then a messenger rushed up. "Captain Marius, the other plantations are being attacked!"


    "Damn it all, quickly make for it," said Marius.


    Sahshir shook his head.


    "No," he turned to Munrus, "you, get your men and go to aid the other plantation. Marius, you should return to the city."


    "What?" said Marius.


    "These slaves are being gathered for a reason," said Sahshir. "If the main city is left undefended, they could launch an assault on it overnight. I''ll see to helping the other plantations."


    "Why are we helping the slavers?" asked Aresif.


    "One has to fulfill the obligations to one''s allies. That was what I was taught," said Sahshir. And if Munrus had to handle his own defense, it might teach the people here a valuable lesson. Something to do with biting the hand that fed them. And it might get his people killed.


    So, all in all, Sahshir couldn''t lose.


    "Yet many who are slaves here are Kalthakians lost in the wars," said Aresif. "Will we kill them as well?"


    "They''ve been driven mad, or so it seems to me," said Sahshir. "Once this is over, I''ll see about trying to free our brethren. Now come, we have work to do."


    One or two problems, but all in all, a reasonably productive day. They weren''t any less doomed. But the world was still gaining sentients worth having. Violence truly was a cleansing force.

 Chapter Twenty: Journey into Hate

    Narcissa had been journeying for some days now.


    The swamp was now around her, but Narcissa smelled very little as she walked. She''d grown used to the muck and stench. The air was humid and hot, and the sun was still beating down even if you couldn''t see it. As she walked, she had to admit she had no particular destination, beyond ''find Master Garacel'' and no real idea for how to conduct negotiations as Sahshir instructed. She was simply walking in a general direction. She''d eaten her last rations yesterday. And still no sign of Master Garacel or anyone else.


    Meanwhile, Narcissa was wearing burrowed samurai armor that had been fitted to her, made of black plate. This is as opposed to a perfect suit of leather. It didn''t show off her breasts or her stomach; there weren''t any high heels. Her shoulders were covered by pauldrons. You couldn''t imagine seducing someone in this armor.


    Granted, it might stop a dagger or sword better. But it was the principle of the thing! Narcissa wanted to look good in battle.


    At least she didn''t have to wear a helmet.


    Well, in any case, sometimes, you just had to wander and hope the pieces fell into place.


    Even so, as Narcissa came into a scenic grove with reasonable dry patches, she felt hungry. Kneeling down, she set down her axe and her hands together in prayer. This was not a practice used by her people, who always lived in their god''s shadow. However, Sahshir performed it often to speak with Baltoth, and it seemed the right time.


    "Zigildrazia, I am yours to wield and destroy as you see fit." Narcissa began, reflecting that was something Sahshir would say. "However, I cannot see your will here in this place. Send me a sign, and I shall do as you ask."


    Then she waited.


    Narcissa heard nothing, felt nothing, and just felt silly and tired after some time as she stood up. Well, it had been worth a try. Still, perhaps she should head back before-


    Then Narcissa saw the flames. They were rising in what she thought was the north. Quickly, Narcissa snatched up her axe and strode quickly toward the fire. As she did, she remembered how much she missed her old armor. Wearing an outfit showing off plenty of cleavage, thigh, and stomach would not protect her. Not outside of Zigildrazia''s domain. But it would have been far more relaxed than this concealing tin can. She also would be able to wear her hair in a ponytail.


    Soon, Narcissa came out of the trees into a field. Before her, she saw a huge building surrounded by fields. There were several houses in those outlying fields. Most areas were on fire, and Narcissa saw several women fleeing, raising their skirts.


    However, they were cut off by men with plows and spears and were cut down in moments. They screamed and screamed, and Narcissa felt a lump in her throat as she moved forward, drawing her axe. The men looked up and moved forward, and then there was a flash as a rain of hawk feathers flowed between them.


    Master Garacel landed, arms crossed. "Welcome, Narcissa."


    "Master Garacel, what is happening here?" said Narcissa. "Why are you-"


    "Garacel, the liberator!" cheered a man.


    "Hail Garacel, the liberator!" cried others.


    Garacel raised a hand to the slaves, who fell silent. "A revolution. Since my defeat of Baltoth in Dinis, I have needed a base of operations. A place from which to strike out at my enemies.


    "I intend to make this realm of Macshore into my kingdom."


    "But why here?" asked Narcissa. "And why cause all this death?" She saw the bodies of the women, mangled and bloody. It didn''t sit right with her; it was just like Zigilus. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Garacel smiled. "Hatred is a way of life in this place. Slave and masters despise and fear one another, working to undermine the other. All I needed to do was take hold of that hatred to inspire a rising.


    "Now, the best of the slaves are among us. And those who would not survive my planned adventure are released from torment."


    "You killed them," realized Narcissa. It was the only means of doing so, and it had been done to Zigilus.


    "I sent them to die killing their enemies, yes," said Garacel. "Several plantations have already been destroyed. Others will soon fall. Those that remain shall be wiped away by the coming of my agents."


    "Is this the will of Zigildrazia?" asked Narcissa.


    Garacel paused for a moment. "My service to Zigildrazia is at an end. My part of our bargain is complete, and now I must seek my own advantage. But I do not seek a war with her or her people."


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    "You realize then that you are starting one?" asked Narcissa. "Sahshir is allied with Dinis. He cannot afford to let this island fall to Sorn."


    "Then you must convince him otherwise," said Garacel simply.


    "And if I can''t?" asked Narcissa.


    "Then I shall see to it that he is taken alive, as well as his warriors," said Garacel with a shrug. "His presence is still needed in Kalthak to ensure your safety."


    Narcissa paused, trying to think of what to say. There was no clear answer here, no command from Zigildrazia. However, Amysta held no interest, so the choice was hers. "You do know I''m going to have to stand with him, don''t you? I can''t betray him, or his Uncle will wipe us out."


    "I am well aware, Narcissa," said Garacel.


    "He has a fleet coming," said Narcissa. "Even if you wipe these out, Dinis will arrive and interfere."


    Garacel looked back and smiled. "I would not be so quick to underestimate hatred. It is an infinitely renewable resource. And Sornians hate one another as much as their enemies.


    "House Kaiban, House Magnious, House Suvvest, House Yusuf, and many others. All are competing to prove themselves stronger. King Nagos'' defeat of one fleet will inspire others to come."


    "Then you''ll play the sides against one another," said Narcissa. "As you did at Zigilus."


    "But, of course," said Garacel. "That is the nature of victory. To weaken and divide your enemy while keeping your own power unified.


    "Everything else is luck."


    The slaves were assembling before him even now, gathering. They raised farm tools and hammers. Garacel drew out the Blade of Chaos at his side, and as he did, the blade seemed to snarl with hatred. "My children. I am overjoyed to see so many of you gathered here before me. Your hate has made you powerful. It has broken the chains of your weak masters. But there are strong overlords. Ones who will seek to place new chains upon you.


    "How will you defeat them?"


    "Will you protect us, Garacel?" asked a woman.


    "Would that I could alone," said Garacel. "But with your aid, I may do just that. Whoever you are, Kalthakian, Harlenorian, Medi, Dren, or Dinian, you are all of one people now.


    "My agents will train you in the art of war. And when the time is right, we will overthrow them." And then he turned around to look behind Narcissa. "Is that acceptable, Lieutenant Garrick?"


    Narcissa turned and saw nothing. Then Garrick emerged from the shadows alongside his men.


    "You seem to have me at a disadvantage. I do not know you, but from your manifested powers, I would guess you to be Akalmush, the Lord of Hatred.


    "I was led to believe you dead."


    "I am his brother, Garacel," said Garacel, sheathing his sword. "And I am not yet his successor. But, Bas, you led them to me as I asked. I am pleased."


    "What is the meaning of this?" asked Garrick flatly.


    "I foresaw the coming of the Sornians and their defeat," said Garacel. "Thus, I set my servant Bas to watch for those who escaped and lead them away. Now with the army assembled, you and your men will train it."


    "I have signed no contract," noted Garrick, looking around him. Did Garacel really know Garrick would join him? How? And what would he do to ensure his loyalty? This seemed too great a chance to take publically.


    "Contract or no, our fates are tied," said Garrick, raising a hand. "So long as Dinis remains a power on this island, you are doomed to defeat. And my children will burn and die beneath their whips.


    "We stand together or die apart."


    "And what do you propose?" asked Garrick, shifting his sword on his back. His gaze turned to Narcissa, who met his and wondered at his intentions. Could Master Garacel really trust this man?


    "You already grasp what I propose," said Garacel, moving toward Garrick. "You and your men will instruct those untrained in battle in the art of it. But for now, we have other matters to attend to." He glanced at his people. "The time for preparation has come. We must now establish a great stronghold within this marsh."


    "A marsh?" asked Garrick. "Laevian''s diseases often run in these. It would be wiser to choose firmer ground, where insects are uncommon." And insect buzzed near him, and Garrick reached up to crush it.


    "Laevian is on our side," said Garacel. "I have long prepared this. For I knew Zigildrazia would arrange the destruction of Zigilus. And I knew that Sorn could not resist an easy target.


    "The Goddess of the Wilds has sworn that no sickness shall touch us so long as the battle wages. Now quickly, we must begin our efforts." Then he looked to Narcissa, raising an eyebrow. "Narcissa, you have something to say?"


    "How could you have foreseen this?" asked Narcissa.


    "My contacts among your people told me that Sahshir was mobilizing for war," said Garacel with a smile. "And I observed the fleets gathering. I anticipated that he would take aggressive action, and this seemed the logical place for it.


    "The Sornians, however, came expecting an easy victory. They were not anticipating an alliance against them. And they were acting in disunity, competing to be the first to win.


    "Because of this slipshod offensive, I calculated that Sorn would be defeated here. Of course, unchanneled power is no power at all. But, in truth, the actions of the slavers were of precious little relevance to me. Regardless of events, I planned to exploit the ensuing chaos. And use it have.


    "The only way their conflict could have gone against me was if one wholly annihilated the other.


    "Though I confess, the destruction you have unleashed is quite impressive. I''ve had to rewrite my plans to account for it already." He sighed. "Go to Abdul Sahshir. Tell him we are free and seek no conflict with him or Dinis."


    "Dinis won''t accept a truce like that, and you know it," said Narcissa. "Hell, your plan counted on it." If Dinis had been the sort to cut their losses, they''d just have sold the island or made a truce. "They will fight to the bitter end to keep this place. Once they finish the Sornians, they will come after you next.


    "And the two might unite to destroy you as well."


    "Go nonetheless," said Garacel with a smile. "We must seek to avoid a useless war if only to remain sympathetic. I shall provide you with supplies, of course."


    Narcissa couldn''t see the harm in what he was asking. And it might help later. So Narcissa bowed traditionally, meant to show off her body. "As you wish."


    Narcissa missed the low-cut armor she used to wear. If she''d been wearing it, she''d have looked very seductive. It really made her breasts look good, and her neck was great with the collar. It just didn''t have the same effect in samurai armor. You couldn''t even see the curve of her hips! So why did Sahshir insist on her dressing like she was some sort of samurai?


    She was a battle-luster, and she wanted to wear high-heels and low-cut leather armor!


    It wasn''t fair!


    Oh, and she also had to do something about this slave revolt.


    She missed Zigilus.

 Chapter Twenty-One: Another Return

    Narcissa needed to feel up to this.


    As she made her way out of the swamps, she felt hot, wet, and tired. All three had been qualities she''d enjoyed a lot more when visiting the Priestesses of Safara. It had taken several days, and the heat had been terrible. Several times she''d nearly slipped and plunged into deep water. And she swore the roots grabbed at her once or twice, and not even in the good tentacle way. Far from giving her the thrill of feeling like she was about to be erotically torn apart, she just tripped and fell. The mud didn''t cling to her sensually, it just made her look and feel terrible.


    Probably the work of Laevian.


    But it didn''t end there. Now she would have to play mediator between Sahshir and Master Garacel. For her part, she doubted either one would listen to her. Sahshir hated Garacel.


    If Sahshir lost, at least he''d be left alive. But Narcissa was supposed to help him win. That meant she''d act contrary to Master Garacel and possibly Zigildrazia''s will. Yet maintaining Zigildrazia''s people was essential to her.


    Then again, the people Narcissa had saved weren''t meant to survive. Zigildrazia had evacuated those she deemed valuable for one reason or another. What Narcissa had done had been tolerated, but not to her will.


    They were supposed to have become raishans and helped kill the armies of Zigilus.


    So was Narcissa actually acting in defiance of Zigildrazia? She didn''t like the thought, but what if it was true? Shouldn''t she sabotage Sahshir''s war effort? Yet that would sabotage Master Garacel''s war effort as well, wouldn''t it? Would it?


    All these questions went through her mind, and no answers came.


    It seemed to Narcissa obvious what she ought to do. If she followed Zigildrazia''s will, she''d have to sacrifice everything. But indeed Zigildrazia cared little for what actually happened. She had been... understanding of Dinis'' continued persistence.


    Did Zigildrazia even care what she did?


    And if she did not, why did it matter what Narcissa did? If any action was good enough for her Goddess, why should she care what she did?


    As she walked, Narcissa thought about all this, and the plants gave her no further trouble. Yet she found no answers as she did. Soon enough, Narcissa came to a field of long grass. And there, on that field, she saw a group of men with spears assembled near a set of long grass. They wore leather armor and caps and had their weapons lowered.


    A horde of slaves came at them with axes and spades. They crashed against the formation, and the men held firm, if only barely. They struggled to stand against the enemy, and the enemy was almost enveloping them. The line was breaking!


    Then, Sahshir and his men suddenly sprang out of the grass and descended on them, hacking them up from the side.


    Sahshir cleaved through two men before coming sword to sword with a Kalthakian. Clashing twice, he slid to a halt, then surged past the man. The two halted, blades still, before the man fell dead. Around him, the battle was raging all the hotter as even more slaves came forward.


    Hefting her axe, Narcissa realized that Sahshir had to kill some of his own people. She had no excuse to do nothing. She would act as seemed best to her if Zigildrazia didn''t care. Rushing forward, she yelled aloud. "For Zigildrazia!"


    Narcissa hit the slaves from behind and brought her axe around. It cleaved three men in half in one swing; another killed four. She felt Amysta screaming in pleasure as she hacked through limbs and body.


    The enemy were driven before her into the spears of the defenders. Panicking, the slaves turned and fled. The defenders rushed after them, hacking down who they could. They killed without mercy. Blood was everywhere, but some of the slaves turned and fought, buying time for the others to escape. Not one of the rearguards was spared.


    When the battle had ended, the land was riddled with corpses. Most of them were slaves or freemen. Only a few Kalthakians had fallen, and many of them were among the slaves. Sahshir wiped the blood from his sword on the grass, sheathed it, and moved toward her. He was still holding it in an underhand grip, as usual.


    "Narcissa, your timing is good," said Sahshir, nodding respectfully. "Though far from perfect."


    "That''s more luck than intent," admitted Narcissa. Where had she been going anyway? It didn''t matter.


    "Baltoth says that luck comes from the proper application of intent," said Sahshir.


    "What does that even mean?" asked Narcissa.


    "If one looks upon the world with clarity, one will act in a fashion that most suit the situation," said Sahshir. "Thus, fortune will be far more likely to strike."


    "Kalthakians?" asked one of the militia. "What are you lot doing out here?" His voice was filled with contempt.


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    "We have come here as allies of Dinis to aid you against this slave revolt," said Sahshir, looking unamused. "I am King Sahshir of Eastern Kalthak."


    There were dark murmurs among the slavers, but the man raised a hand, and they went silent.


    "Well, you''re here at a good time." said the man. "We were about to be overwhelmed."


    "Why were you folk skulking in the grass?" snarled a man. "Waiting for us to be whittled down?"


    "Preparing a flanking maneuver," replied Sahshir. "We judged that joining the main defense would be less effective.


    "There is little time. Other plantations may have already come under attack. We must go to them." He almost sounded concerned, which was unusual for Sahshir.


    "Well, Marindus'' is the nearest." said the man.


    "Then you''d best get your men and come with us as quickly as possible," said Sahshir. Then he glanced at one of his men warily. "Aresif, get our healers to tend to the militia and prepare them for war as soon as possible." He looked at the man he had been speaking to. "Who are you?"


    "I am Orisen," replied the man. "We were formed in response to the message from the port. We''ve been fighting with these animals for days. They pinned us down here." He looked at the corpses. "This is a lot of destroyed property. Assex, find any of our slaves who remain loyal and healthy. This didn''t seem like a natural thing."


    "It wasn''t," said Narcissa.


    Sahshir looked at her. "Meaning?"


    "I found Garacel, Sahshir. He''s using the hatred stirred in this place to cause rebellions," said Narcissa. "I think he stirs the hatred up in them all at once. Then, when he does it, the enforcers aren''t able to gather and get overwhelmed."


    "Garacel?" said Orisen. "Is this a sorcerer you speak of?"


    "Worse," said Sahshir. "A god, one I''ve clashed with several times."


    Narcissa resisted the urge to point out it was one time, once in front of the gates. The other time had really been Baltoth against Garacel using Sahshir''s body.


    "In that case, how can we counter it?" asked Orisen.


    "Well, it seems that not all the slaves revolted," said Narcissa. "There must be a reason for it.""I should think that obvious," said Sahshir. "Those who treated their slaves with a semblance of dignity would be despised far less. So there would be less to work with."


    "Well, we''ll have to see to the other plantations," said Orisen. "We can''t let good people die because of this monster."


    "Very well," said Sahshir. "We will head to Marindus'' plantation and see what I find. Narcissa, a word." They walked aside, and Sahshir looked at her hard, and Narcissa saw the blackened skin around his eyes. "What does Garacel want here?"


    "He wants to establish his own kingdom," said Narcissa truthfully. "One that worships him and him alone. And he is going to get it if I''m right."


    "What makes you sure?" asked Sahshir.


    He already knew, didn''t he? "Look around you, Sahshir," said Narcissa. "Most of the population of this island are slaves. Garacel is using the less useful ones to cover the escape of the strongest. Those he is training into an army."


    "You cannot raise an army overnight," said Sahshir. "It takes months of work."


    "He won''t need to have them all be experts, Sahshir," said Narcissa. "Many of them are probably former soldiers. If he can get them weapons, he''ll be able to overwhelm this place.


    "And what about Sorn?


    "They won''t sit still for this. So I don''t think we''ll hold this place."


    "We must at least make an attempt," said Sahshir. "We have an obligation to our allies that must be upheld."


    "And what of the Kalthakians, Sahshir?" asked Narcissa. "Will you kill your own countrymen to protect their oppressors?"


    Sahshir remained silent, and then he seemed to think of something. "...If we can arrange for all Kalthakians to be freed, it may diminish Garacel''s forces by a large amount. Is Garrick with him?"


    "Yes," said Narcissa. "They''ve struck up an alliance."


    "Then Sorn may well enter this conflict again." mused Sahshir.


    "They won''t need to," said Narcissa. "Garacel has the numbers to wipe us out if he has a week to do it. Even without training."


    "He doesn''t have a week," said Sahshir. "Where is he going to gather food from? Where will his people find shelter? They''ll be starving in a few days."


    "Do not be too certain, King Sahshir." said the one he''d called Aresif. "Garacel needs a patron, and if he were to establish himself here, it could make him a powerful piece. Elranor might well have a use for him, and we know well the danger of his God Triumvirate."


    "You can''t rely on miracles indefinitely," said Sahshir. "They only happen once."


    Half a day later, they arrived at the Marindius plantation. Or what was left of it?


    Every building had been set afire and burned. The fields had been hacked up and burned. Trees had been left standing, but everything else was obliterated. So many corpses had been gathered into heaps and burned. But the heads had been cut off and laid out in another pile some ways away.


    "Is this Marindius'' home?" asked Sahshir.


    "It was once," said Orisen, looking gray.


    "From the looks of things, Garacel means to raze this entire island to the ground," noted Sahshir. "Fan out. Check for survivors and look for supplies and equipment we can scavenge. Move quickly."


    On the search went, and soon, one of Sahshir''s samurai came forward and bowed. "King Sahshir, we found the granary. It''s empty. Someone took everything inside it. So are the tool sheds and what looks to be an armory. No survivors, but, well, we found the owners."


    The owners had been crucified. From the looks of things, someone had speared them as they hung to ensure they weren''t rescued. Three of them were children, two boys and a girl, all disfigured by knives.


    "Children dead. This is a grim scene," said Sahshir, tone level.


    "It couldn''t have happened to a more deserving family," said Aresif, smiling. "Being sold to Marindius was a threat the plantation owners would use. He was a cruel bastard; some say he even shot his slaves for sport. Though I imagine those tales are nonsense, the property is valuable."


    "Take them down and bury them," said Sahshir. "Give them such rites as we can manage. Then prepare to move out. We''ll save as many as we can, then withdraw back to the city."


    "A lot of good that will do us," noted Narcissa. "Why the hell did Nagos have to go without us?"


    "You know why," replied Sahshir simply.


    And he was right. Nagos didn''t want to be here, and his talents were better suited to the seas anyway. Narcissa was annoyed at how Sahshir always seemed to know the reason for things. How was he so calm? Then again, who said he was calm. Whether in a state of white-hot fury or good humor, Sahshir acted exactly the same way.


    He was viciously rational that way. It was his best trait. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Narcissa decided she was not going to betray him. Not just because Zigildrazia might or might not want it, anyway.

 Chapter Twenty-Two: Bad News

    A week later, Sahshir entered the capital''s gates ahead of the central column. He had a few new scars and a great deal more frustration. Very little else had been gained besides more bodies.


    Romilis met him there, flanked by guards. He looked concerned. "King Sahshir, you''ve returned. What news? And why do you come alone?"


    Sahshir looked at him and drew aside his mask to drink some water. Romilis recoiled at the sight of what lay beneath, but Sahshir did not care. "I have come ahead. We''ve saved all we can but found more ruins than plantations. So I''m going to withdraw everyone into the city. Narcissa is escorting men from the plantations here as we speak. My men are with her.


    "They are taking all the food and supplies we can manage."


    "Is that necessary?" asked Romilis.


    "Yes," said Sahshir. "Garacel is gathering an army to him, and we''ve only fragments. So I''ve sent out scouts to see if I can find him and strike while the iron is hot.


    "But none of them have reported back.


    "What news here?"


    "The last of the fires have been put out," said Romilis, shifting. "We''re working to repair some of the damage. We are housing people who''ve lost their homes in the warehouses.


    "There have been vast losses of material and men."


    "Get me a list of everything we have left," said Sahshir. "Then order these defenses reinforced. We may well come under siege." He paused. "Is there any news from Nagos?"


    "Yes, King Sahshir," said Romilis. "He made an alliance with several pirates. They raided Sornian shipping repeatedly and drew the attention of the Sornian Fleets. One such fleet pursued the pirates into an ambush that King Nagos set.


    "He fell on them and sank every one of them. I wrote to some friends in Sorn, and it appears the great houses are panicking. They''ve called up their full strength for the coming war. They offered a truce with only small concessions on the part of Dinis."


    "Then the war is over?" guessed Sahshir.


    Romilis paused, and Sahshir got a bad feeling about this. There was something he didn''t want to say. "What of the fleet from Chaminus?" asked Sahshir.


    Romilus opened his mouth, then shut it again.


    "Well?" asked Sahshir.


    "After the Sornians made their offer, Emperor Octavus refused," said Romilis. "He would accept no terms that did not leave the Empire intact. Trade agreements meant nothing to him. Thus he led the Dinis fleets out to confront Sorn. With him were his Eastern Kalthakian allies.


    "There was a great battle, and the two sides fought for nearly a day. The Emperor led his forces into combat personally and fought valiantly. He nearly drove in the enemy fleet and broke it.


    "But he was struck with an arrow and was wounded. The battle fell apart after that. The Eastern Kalthakians broke away from the battle, and the fleet was scattered.


    "Emperor Octavus led his ship forward and attacked the Sornian Fleet to cover the retreat. It drew the attention of the Sornian Captains; they all wanted to capture him. However, he and his men fought to the bitter end and let the fleet escape. The Emperor was killed in battle.


    "They say Sen Kaba cut his throat in single combat.


    "The fleet is scattered, and even now, Sorn is on its way."


    Sahshir considered his situation. It was not a good one, and they were all likely to die, but death was inevitable. On the other hand, with proper strategy, they could make a glorious end and a costly victory for Sorn. Octavus had already done that, and Sahshir considered his death a redemption. No doubt his time on a ship had hardened him somewhat, and he had fallen as a warrior. "Where did Nagos say he was?"


    "The last I heard, he was trying to link up with the Eastern Kalthakians," said Romilis. "He was now present for the battle."


    "How far from us is the Sornian Fleet?" asked Sahshir.


    "Perhaps a week," said Romilis.


    Sahshir moved past him, looked up at one of the white stone buildings, and focused on slanted shingles. "Where is Marius?"


    "He has been trying to gather a militia from the people here," said Romilis. "However..."


    "Yes?" asked Sahshir. He was beginning to grow tired of this man constantly hesitating. It was a show of weakness. Why was he so nervous and resentful of his allies?


    "He''s ordered the slaves liberated en masse," said Romilis. "He promised them freedom if they would fight for us. We nearly had a riot."


    "Would you prefer to cut their throats?" asked Sahshir.


    "Of course not," said Romilis.


    "Then we have little choice," said Sahshir. "We can''t afford to have a hostile population inside our walls when we''re under siege, and we need all the help we can get.


    "Let me think." He sat down and thought things through. "If we can hunt down and destroy Garacel before the Sorn Fleet arrives... no, no, by the time we get his location, they may be here. And we can''t spend long hunting him."


    "We''ll fortify the harbor first. Then, if we can repulse the Sornian''s initial assault, Nagos may have time to help us.


    "Who is this Sen Kaiban anyway?"


    "They call him the Young Conqueror," said Romilis. "He was adopted into the Kaba family with his brother. He managed to seize numerous islands in the name of Sorn. He established many sugar plantations. It is said he killed Emperor Octavus personally."


    "And he was not here before?" asked Sahshir.


    "The fleet sent against us before was from House Magnious. They are an ancient and venerable Sorn House," said Romilis. "They and the Kaba''s have hated each other for years.


    "Sornian Houses all have their own personal forces and fleets."


    "Very well then," said Sahshir. "Can we get a ship to Chaminus?"


    "It is possible, though they may be overtaken," said Romilis.


    "Find a volunteer to take a message there," said Sahshir. "I must know for certain if the Emperor still lives and what part of our forces remain."


    "This is madness!" blurted Romilis. "The war is lost!"


    "We have not lost the war," said Sahshir. "Nor will we lose it."


    "This is not your land," said Romilis. "If we come to terms with Sorn now, we can gain a reasonable deal. Freeing the slaves to use as soldiers will only destroy our society. All to pursue an impossible victory.


    "Forcing Sorn to suffer a pyrrhic victory will only ensure our destruction! You must see that!" Sahshir imagined Chaminus in flames as a Sornian flag was raised above the palace. He thought about slaughter and death. All for what? Sugar and gold?


    "All men die. In a hundred years, every one of us will die," said Sahshir. "Sorn may destroy you, even if you negotiate with them.


    "You can face your enemy with dignity and perhaps gain the glory that outlives you. Or you can cower in fear and be forgotten. If we defeat Sorn here, you can negotiate far better terms with Dinis next Emperor. Surrender, and you will be made weaker either way."


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    Romilis looked at him hard for a moment, then sighed. "Very well, I''ll make the arrangements," He moved off.


    Sahshir looked to some men, then glanced to see the troops approaching. "You, men. Take me to Marius."


    As it turned out, Marius was drilling the militia and ensuring they consisted of mixed races. There were glares directed between both sides. But all were working at drills, practicing marching and shield walls. Marius himself observed, occasionally giving orders. As Sahshir arrived, he glanced up. "Sahshir, you''ve returned. Where are the others?"


    "Escorting refugees and supplies to this location," said Sahshir. "Are these the slaves you freed?"


    "Some of them," said Marius. "The masters objected, but they''ve no steel in them. It isn''t in my nature to make an army of mixed races. While I respect your kind, our armies ought not to mix. Even so, I felt it was necessary."


    "Why?" asked Sahshir, having suspicions about the reason himself.


    "Everyone hates everyone else," says Marius. "The lower class freemen resent the higher-ranked ones and hate the slaves. The upper classes hold lower-class freemen and slaves in contempt. The slaves want them all dead.


    "If any stability is to be established here, they need to have something in common.


    "So I drafted men from all classes and forced them to train under my soldiers. If they fight a few battles together, they may reach some form of understanding."


    "You''re taking it very well that your Emperor is dead," noted Sahshir.


    Marius sighed and finally looked grim at last. "We''ve lost Emperor''s before. But, at least he died well, fighting in glory. He didn''t beg for mercy or try to buy his way out. I heard that he took his own life rather than be captured. And at least his successor didn''t murder him."


    "Who is his successor?" asked Sahshir.


    "Does it matter?" asked Marius. "Some noble who has bought favors in the right places, I expect. They''ll marry the Empress Mother, or failing that, kill her. Believe me, it could be worse.


    "In my Father''s twentieth year, we had four Emperor''s in one year. Every single one of them killed his predecessor and murdered his family.


    "Though Octavus I was the exception to murdering the families of his enemies. He let most of them live unless they were openly treasonous. Most of them even did the things he accused them of. His son was much the same in that."


    "And you honestly tolerate this kind of behavior?" asked Sahshir, shocked at what he hard. Baltoth had never had this kind of succession issue; he ruled eternally.


    "We don''t have much choice," said Marius. "I suspect Zigildrazia arranged many of those changes in power. It all stopped once we entered the service of Lady Safara."


    Sahshir paused and realized they were getting away from the subject. Still, he wondered how Marius dealt with dwelling in an unstable society. To have your Emperor shift in a matter of days and think nothing of it...


    It was unimaginable to Sahshir. "We must compensate the planets for their loss of slaves." sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "To what end?" asked Marius. "I''ve had all I can take of good farmers being forced off their lands by slaveholders."


    "Have you ever heard the story of God Emperor Valranor?" asked Sahshir instead of a straight answer. Stories made points better than direct statements.


    "The God whom Baltoth supplanted," mused Marius. "I have heard of him."


    "He was a being of immense power, greater than any other god," said Sahshir. "He had armies beyond count and held dominion over the greatest Empire the world had ever seen. When he conquered a region, those he conquered did as he said. No aspect of their culture that he disapproved of was allowed.


    "In terror, they submitted to him.


    "But then came Baltoth and dealt him defeat after defeat. Thus the spell was broken. Valranor''s subjects saw the chance to restore themselves. They rose in rebellion, and Valranor''s Empire was destroyed. When Baltoth took his place, he allowed them to act as they saw fit, so long as they ruled in his name.


    "Now his Empire is larger and greater than Valranor. Baltoth has fought many wars and suffered many defeats. But not once has a rebellion succeeded. All are bound by his inexorable will. We must follow his example."


    "In Dinis, many once-proud soldiers now walk homeless. While fat planters like these live large in farms tilled by slaves," snapped Marius. "Farms that were stolen from my brothers.


    "To be beggared is no more than they deserve."


    This conversation needed a dose of reality.


    "Look around you, Marius," hissed Sahshir. "We are about to come under attack by overwhelming enemies from all sides. With Octavus dead, these planters might decide surrender is their only option. And if we alienate them, they could turn on us.


    "We must pay them for the slaves you freed."


    Marius eyed him carefully. "As you say, how will you do it?"


    "We have a great deal of loot stolen from the countryside," said Sahshir. "Return it."


    "You want us to give up our winnings?" asked Marius incredulously.


    "It used to belong to the city anyway," said Sahshir. "If we give it back, we''ll ingratiate ourselves with them.


    "Keep it, and they''ll call us thieves."


    "Let them," said Marius. "We seized that plunder ourselves."


    "And if we do not give it up, our defense is doomed," said Sahshir. "Which do you value more? Plunder? Or your nation and life? Believe me, I have no great love for this place. But for the sake of Kalthak, I would gladly give up money for duty."


    Marius shifted. "...Very well, then. We will give up a portion of the plunder we seized.


    "We''re all likely to die anyway when the Sornians get here. And if we win, their weapons could be sold for much gold."


    "Then let us focus on what we may do to defend against the coming assault," said Sahshir. "Have you fought the Sornians before?"


    "No," said Marius. "Not before this war.


    "But they''ll have to land somewhere. If we stand our ground here, we should be able to hold them off for a long time."


    "Perhaps," said Sahshir, thinking of recent battles. Marius'' plan seemed like something other than a winning strategy. "Have you heard the story of the Battle of Desora?"


    "No," said Marius.


    "Desora is a beach in the province of Artarq. It is a domain contested between Calisha and our nemesis, Harlenor," said Sahshir. "It was conquered some years ago when traitors rose in rebellion. They invited Harlenor to protect them.


    "King Banir, the rightful leader, was forced to flee. Then, with the river held against him, he raised a fleet from Calisha and attacked by sea.


    "But there was a cunning warrior among the Harlenorians. Sir Vanion Gabriel found them landing and gathered a small part of his army. He fell on Banir''s army as it landed and drove them into the sea. It was a humiliation, and the fleet was forced back.".


    "What''s your point?" asked Marius. "And why do you admire an enemy?"


    "Baltoth teaches us that one must study their enemy and know their virtues," said Sahshir. "If you understand the greatness of your opponent, you may use that greatness for your own benefit.


    "As for my point, I believe such a strategy may do us good."


    "What do you have in mind?" asked Marius.


    "We will find where Kaiban lands his forces," said Sahshir. "We will gather our full force and charge to kill as many as we can."


    "You would gamble everything on one battle?" asked Marius, smiling.


    "If we wait forever here, we will surely be defeated," said Sahshir. "So let us attack and hope for victory against all odds."


    "The plan may have merit," conceded Marius. "But we should have far more of a plan than that."


    "Then let us make our plans now and pray for good fortune," said Sahshir.


    "I''ll send out scouts and consult maps to see if I may find a good place for unloading ships," said Marius. "They may try the harbor again, but they may not."


    "Sorn may attempt to make an alliance with the slaves on the island," noted Sahshir. "I suspect elements of their forces have helped to start these revolts."


    "That would be wholly in character for Kaba," mused Marius. "In his conquests, he makes alliances with local leaders. Usually, he plays them against one another."


    "And what happens to his allies when they are no further use?" asked Sahshir.


    "It depends," said Marius. "In some cases, when dealing with Harlenorians, Kaba sticks to the agreement. But when dealing with natives or pirates, he is not nearly so quick to stick to his principles."


    "Have you met him?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Marius. "He bought up all the professional healers in my region individually, so they were taking his orders. He then proceeded to raise their rates to obscene levels. So my sister is a priestess of Imogen and began healing people freely who couldn''t afford his prices.


    "A gang of thugs broke her arm and cut off her fingers. Though no one ever proved it was he who sent them. None of the healers in the area would fix the wound for fear of him, which was beyond her ability. Then Kaba arrived, with one of his personal physicians came and healed her. He politely suggested to Father that she not be sent on such dangerous ventures in the future.


    "After that, she stopped healing people, and people started dying much quicker. Eventually, she moved to the capital to practice her trade there."


    "How did he strike you?" asked Sahshir. "Beyond the obvious."


    "He didn''t strike me; that would be out of character for him," Marius scornfully said.


    "What was your impression of him?" asked Sahshir.


    "Cold, harsh, blunt. He bears none of the courtesy one should expect from a true aristocrat," said Marius. "He wears a long coat and has brown hair, and he often practices with knives. Has a fixation on dragons, too, I think, if the designs on his wall are any indication.


    "Most of his operations are done through a man named Lilas these days. Why do you ask?"


    "If Sen Kaba seizes this island, he will want the cooperation of the locals, will he not?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes, for the moment," said Marius.


    "So that means he may ally with the slaves," mused Sahshir. "But he won''t keep it."


    "Unless he chooses to exterminate the entire island," noted Marius.


    "That would leave the island useless for a long period," said Sahshir. "And make his battle far harder. No, he''ll want to use the planters for the moment. If I were him, I''d ally with the slaves, use them as cannon fodder, then put them back in chains."


    "Where are you going with this?" asked Marius.


    "We may fail to drive the Sornians into the sea, as we hope," said Sahshir. "If so, we will need to have a fallback plan."


    "Surely you seek death or glory?" asked Marius.


    The conclusion was obvious. "No, I seek a battle with a possibility of success," said Sahshir. "I cannot see any chance of victory against a fleet large enough to route the Emperor. Not by a direct static defense. An aggressive assault may achieve success. But they may land in more than one place or reform and land again.


    "If that happens, there must be another means to achieve victory. We can turn the advantage of our enemy against them."


    Marius paused. "Your Queen, Narcissa, is close with Garacel."


    "She is not my Queen, but she was trained by Garacel, yes," said Sahshir. He thought with revulsion at the idea of sleeping with her. Not anything against her; the idea was merely... unpleasant for him.


    "Then I believe I may have a strategy that could yield fruit," noted Marius.


    "What is it?" asked Sahshir.


    And then Romilus appeared. "Captain Marius, King Sahshir, Narcissa, and her forces have arrived."


    Marius stood and called a halt. "We''ll discuss the details once she is with us. We will need her help with this."


    Once more, they had work to do.

 Chapter Twenty-Three: Crossing of Destiny

    Finn was in awe, judging by his expression.


    Garrick did not blame him. The events happening around them now were eccentric, to say the least. He refused to indulge in such emotions while on a mission. But that didn''t mean he begrudged his associate.


    The swamp had long since given way to a realm designed to support life. Rather than tolerate life as an unfortunate necessity as most of Laevian''s realms did. Sentient life, at any rate, was welcome. There were no thorns or anything like on the bushes. Low-hanging fruit was all around, and the water became clear as crystal here.


    "Plants grow up, yielding vast tracks of fruit and vegetables," said Finn. "Water purifies itself." He pounded a fist against one hand. "I''ve never seen anything like this, Garrick."


    "Spirits can be induced to do this kind of thing if one can contract with them," said Garrick. Before them, the slaves were training for war. "Though rarely in such vast amounts."


    "No, no, I mean Laevian doing something nice for someone else," said Finn, looking up in surprise. "She''s not exactly nice company."


    "Oh," said Garrick, realizing he''d misunderstood him. "Yes. That is somewhat remarkable." Then, looking up, he saw a recruit stabbing with a spear the wrong way and quickly caught it. "You, you are holding your spear like this. Adjust it."


    The raids had been well-timed.


    The slave revolts had been done to draw attention. Meanwhile, Finn and Garrick scavenged weapons and equipment for the colony. Though even despite Finn''s raiding, he''d had to improvise some.


    "My compliments, Finn," said Garacel as he landed, "on acquiring weapons." How did he get his voice to sound so metallic anyway? He was clearly in human form.


    "Well, anything can be a weapon," said Finn. He was looking at where slaves were straightening the blades of pitchforks. "With a bit of alteration, anything can kill a man. You must eliminate the inconvenient parts and straighten it up a little.


    "I don''t get why Laevian is supporting you, though."


    "Laevian must perform miracles sometimes, or no one would worship her," said Garrick. "Fear alone cannot rule the world."


    "And contracts can?" asked Garacel.


    "Yes," said Garrick. That was something he would not negotiate on.


    "What makes you say that?" asked Garacel.


    "Fear and love, hatred and compassion, these are passing feelings," said Garrick. "Things that can inspire one to act in one way or another. If not controlled, then they run amok and consume everything you are. They destroy plans and render your holdings unprofitable.


    "But a contract.


    "A contract outlines specific rules for what you can and cannot do. It gives a goal and the expectation of a reward. Love is a feeling. A contract is a way of life."


    "Yeah, but where is the fun in that?" asked Finn. "I mean, I never see you enjoy anything."


    "I enjoy efficiency and achieving the ends I have set," said Garrick, though he realized it was a lie. His own pleasure had never been a priority.


    "And what do you call this?" asked Finn.


    Garrick considered how far the situation had gotten out of hand. Even if he succeeded in arranging this slave revolt, Sen Kaba would be the one he''d make a deal with. House Magnious had, if the last reports were any indication, drawn back to a defensive stance. "Improvisation."


    Specific definitions were only helpful if correct. Unfortunately, the situation was too fluid to be accurate. "The most important part of any leader''s arsenal," said Garacel. "My men are advancing quickly under your guidance Garrick. I am pleased."


    "It is a relatively simple calculation," said Garrick, glancing back to the rows of trainees. They''d been chosen from among the younger and healthier. Though some had prior experience in battles before slavery. Women capable of bearing children had been left out of the war. The same was said for children younger than fifteen.


    Only the first step would be complete once the enemy was brought to heel. After that, establishing a sustainable population would be feasible. Assuming Kaba would make a deal.


    "Have those who understand fighting instruct ten men each in the basics. Then have those ten men instruct another ten in the basics, and so on.


    "Still, our victory will be meaningless."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Finn.


    "Our goal was to seize Macshore and use it to create new sugar plantations," said Garrick. "However, now that quest has mutated into a crusade. Victory can only be achieved by using the slaves to destroy the masters. As well as the government that supports them. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "This will devastate the economy of this region, and I doubt it will recover in a human''s lifetime." And that was why Sen Kaba would probably never make a deal. Garrick calculated that he would probably use the slaves as disposable shock troops. Once Dinis was beaten, he could make a deal with the masters and reenslave them.


    "Who cares?" asked Finn. "We''ll win."


    "Beggar thy neighbor as a policy merely results in all the world dressed in rags," noted Garrick. "Our goal has never been to destroy Dinis. Merely to seize their holdings and integrate them into that of their employer.


    "I do not judge this to be a productive use of anyone''s time."


    "Then why are you here?" asked Garacel.


    Garrick considered the question. "I must fulfill my contract. And Dinis will likely attempt reprisals on Sorn. But, with King Nagos'' new fleet, such a war will go poorly.


    "A successful slave revolt here could tie up Dinis'' armies for weeks, even months. That will give House Magnious, and Sorn as a whole, the opportunity to adopt a new strategy. It also allows me to fulfill the letter of my contract, if not the intent. And when intent fails, letters must do."


    "Why don''t you summon another windstorm and sink the fleet?" asked Finn.


    "Do you know how many favors I had to call to muster those stormclouds, Finn?" asked Garrick, annoyed by the question. He ought to know this much by now.


    Finn shifted uneasily. "...No."


    "A great many," said Garrick. "I had to steal the Gem of Enlightenment from the Castle of the Winds to get that windstorm. Though I suppose one ought to call it the Gem of Contentment- Nevermind. Don''t even ask me that question again." That brought his thoughts to another matter. "...We should kill King Sahshir."


    "What, the Leper Prince? Why?" asked Finn.


    "He is the one who allied with Dinis," said Garrick. "And he has strong ties to Nagos. So if he is killed, his successor may choose to break off contact. That, in turn, will weaken Dinis in future wars."


    "We will do no such thing," said Garacel, voice hard. "Sahshir is necessary for my plans."


    "You might want to improvise a solution without him. I hear he hates your guts," said Finn with a smirk.


    "That is the point," said Garacel.


    Ah, so he was refusing to explain his plans to add an aura of mystery. But, of course, the answer to that mystery was likely depressingly simple. Garrick had seen many men adopt this policy, and very few were alive to tell of it. Negotiations were more straightforward when everyone knew what everyone else wanted.


    "Well, fine then, keep your cards close to the vest," said Finn. "How did you get this alliance with Laevian?"


    Garacel smiled. "I owe thanks to a young paladin of Elranor named William Gabriel."


    "Gabriel?" Garrick frowned as he remembered him. He was reasonably calculating, immensely strong for his age, with a scar over his eye. "I''ve met him."


    "You have?" asked Garacel, sounding surprised.


    "Yes," said Garrick. "He was an accomplished swordsman despite his young age. And Lady Rusara mentored him. She says the Dusk Elves have a use for his house." And Rusara''s word was, for strategy purposes, law these days.


    "Wow, that''s high praise," said Finn, clapping him back before looking back to Garacel. "But how did he arrange an alliance between you and Laevian?"


    "It was indirect," said Garacel. "You see, I have an alliance with Typhos, the Mother of all Monsters. She is returning to the world slowly, and William Gabriel has assisted in that. First, he rebuilt a temple for her. From there, he was instrumental in defeating Calisha on the banks of Savior''s Run in Artarq.


    "Elranor used his actions to arrange an alliance between them.


    "Laevian is interested in the power of the God Triumvirate being maintained. So when I approached her for assistance in starting a slave revolt, she was happy to oblige. In fact, she has already set things here, new diseases ready to crop up at the opportune moment."


    Finn nodded, then glanced at Garrick. "Garrick, what does Coinfurth think of this?"


    "Coinfurth desires that his realm be made powerful and prosperous," said Garrick. "Those inefficiencies be purged from the world and all contracts fulfilled. I do not think he has paid any heed to the Calishan Harlenorian vendetta. Save insofar as it affects the economic prosperity of Sorn, of course." Then, an impulse hit Garrick, and his god made things plain.


    "Still, events are in motion to ensure our ''victory'', such as it is."


    "What events?" asked Finn.


    Garrick turned to the trees, and out of them emerged a man clad in a long black coat. It flowed dramatically around him, and he had two long knives. His hair was brown and hung low behind his head, and his blue eyes were veiled in shadow. The emblem of a white dragon was emblazoned on a broach at his neck.


    "There," said Garrick. "Sen Kaba, you are expected."


    "I don''t remember giving you any forward notice," noted Kaba.


    "Coinfurth''s schedule exists beyond mortal comprehension," replied Garrick.


    Finn clenched a gauntlet and took a step forward at that moment, but Garrick caught him by the shoulder. "Not here, Finn. Your personal vendetta has nothing to do with the present circumstances. Pursue it on your own time."


    Kaba looked at Finn scornfully. "Does your attack dog know me?"


    "His family had been loyal servants of House Kaiban for generations," replied Garrick. "When you became the head of the family, you let all of them go. His mother and father starved to death because of your actions."


    "They were my employees to keep on if I wanted," replied Kaba. "I needed to cut costs, and they were superfluous. If they couldn''t find other work, that isn''t my problem or responsibility." Garacel stared, opened his mouth, closed it, and turned away. "Garrick, I have nothing to say to this man. I''ll leave negotiations in your hands."


    And he moved off. Garrick wondered if Garacel actually trusted him. Or was he merely looking for a pretense to break whatever deal was made? Perhaps both?


    "I take it you''re in charge of this warband," said Kaba.


    "I am an authority in this army, yes," said Garrick.


    Finn looked to Garrick, then stalked off.


    "Then we have a common cause," said Sen. "My fleets are coming as we speak, but I am here to arrange an alliance."


    "If it is an alliance you desire, then I will certainly hear you out," said Garrick.


    "We require a safe beachhead upon which to land," said Sen. "This island is not well scouted. I am concerned that our enemies will launch an assault against us before we are disembarked.


    "If you were to find an ideal location for my ships and ensure Dinis cannot interfere."


    "And what do you offer us in return?" asked Garrick.


    "I will guarantee the freedom of all those who serve you," said Sen, probably lying through his teeth. "I will also allow these people to settle on these lands, so long as they pledge loyalty to House Kaba."


    "Garacel''s servants may pledge loyalty to House Kaba. But he certainly will not," replied Garrick, obligated to tell the truth. "He is, or claims to be, the Lord of Hatred and intends to rule over this domain. He will likely want the island to be ruled in his name."


    Kaba looked distantly to where Garacel was meditating. "Whatever you want. I don''t need this island. My only interest is in denying it to my enemies.


    "Do you agree?"


    "That depends," said Garrick, drawing out one of his tubes and magic quills. Laying his sword on the ground, he quickly wrote a contract with the quill, then offered it to Kaba. "Would this summarize your offer?"


    Kaba read it over carefully with the usual scowl. "Yes. That will more than suffice."


    Garrick nodded and brought it over to Garacel. "Is this contract acceptable to both of you?"


    Garacel blinked. "So that''s why you always keep paper on you."


    "Contracts are important," noted Garrick. "They are proof an agreement happened. Not merely ink on a page. Money represents value. Likewise, a contract means the binding word of both businessmen.


    "A violation is akin to using gilded coins," He offered Garacel the pen.


    Garacel read through the details with a raised eyebrow. "Far too good to be true. When someone offers you terms that are this good, they are one of two things. They are either desperate or have no intention of abiding by them."


    "Be that as it may," said Garrick, "both of you need the other for victory. So even if you intend to tear one another apart in the aftermath, this contract will serve as a means to cooperate. Which is necessary for both parties in the short term.


    "Rest assured, Coinfurth knows well those who break their agreements. And he will see them punished in time."


    Garacel looked up at Garrick. "...Very well, I will humor you. But this ''contract'' shall not be broken by my hand. Some of us consider our word of honor to be worth something." And he wrote his signature in simple, plain letters that were a bit messy, and had to try several more times. "I hate writing. My old hands were not suited for it, and I still haven''t learned the knack again."


    Garrick took the contact over to Kaba. "Garacel has agreed to your terms and vows not to break them by his hand. Though he does not altogether trust you. I will need your signature."


    Kaba drew out his own quill and drew out an elaborate and keenly made signature with a flourish. However, as he finished it and the contract went down, Garacel stood there in front of Kaba. Garrick flinched, despite himself. Garacel seemed to be the size of a mountain without changing its size. Kaba, however, looked at him with precisely the same look of mild contempt; he looked at everything.


    "Then our word is given," said Garacel, raising a hand. "Give me your hand in pledge."


    Kaba raised his hand and took Garacel''s. Something seemed to happen as they did, though Garrick was not sure what.


    The hand was lowered, and Garacel returned to normal. Kaba did not notice. "My fleet will be within sight of the shore tomorrow. Signal us with torches."


    And he moved off without a word.


    Finn came back. "... He''s going to rip that contract up as soon as he wins."


    "I''m well aware," said Garrick.


    "So what now?" asked Finn. "Do we lure him into a trap or something?"


    "No," said Garrick. "We will not break our end of the deal."


    "You''re kidding me," said Finn. "We don''t have to break it, per se; we just give him a disembarking point that isn''t all that great. Maybe put it somewhere that Sahshir can see."


    "We will follow both the spirit and letter of the contract so far as it goes," said Garrick.


    "You''re not serious," said Finn. "Garacel, what do you think of all this?"


    "We have agreed to provide Kaba with a landing point and a safe entry onto the island. And we will provide him with that," said Garacel as a messenger arrived. "It is bad form to break agreements. In letter or spirit. What news, Baj?"


    "Master Garacel, we have erected the symbols you taught us to," said Baj. "As you said, we are expanding the defenses. I have not built walls and houses in ages."


    "You were an architect?" asked Finn.


    "Yes," said Baj. "I was taken as a slave by the raids of Argath Marn and sold in the markets of Sorn. From one master to another, I was sold until I came here.


    "I had a... comfortable life. Better than those who worked in the field.


    "But I had no power. Garacel gave me a chance for real power. Thus I escaped and joined the gangs of slaves. I had them build these hidden enclaves on behalf of Garacel. When that rebellion was crushed, I took over leadership.


    "Now, at last, we will come into our own.


    "Still, many of them are... afraid. They are concerned we''ll be destroyed, and they are mourning the older slaves and the weak-"


    "Embrace your hate," said Garacel. "Hate makes one strong. It drives one to move on, even when there is no hope. We will see the slavers and planters of this island burn by our hands. Those who betray us will suffer the same fate.


    "Only when you have driven out all doubt and embraced the destruction of your enemies can your mind be clear. Know their weaknesses and your own. Know their plans and your own."Then use those things to destroy them.


    "Garrick, you will take your warriors and less experienced militia." Garacel did not refer to them as ''slave militia.'' Instead, "Signal the invasion and ensure a favorable wind."


    "What about us?" asked Baj.


    "I''ll deal with Sahshir myself," said Garacel.


    "We do not have the forces to defeat Sahshir behind his defenses," noted Garrick.


    "We need only contain him," said Garacel. "And I can achieve that without an army."


    "There is one other thing, Lord Garacel," said Baj.


    "Speak freely," said Garacel.


    "Many of our Kalthakians have abandoned the camp," said Baj. "They left with a large supply of fruit. They are headed for the port."


    Desertion? Sahshir must have been arranging for the freedom of his former subjects. That could be a problem. But Garacel smiled. "So much, the better. It will be the straw that drives Sahshir into my hands."

 Chapter Twenty-Four: Dues to Pay

    It had taken work days, and every moment had been more complex than the next.


    Sahshir strongly suspected they were all heading for disaster. With the uncanny silence from the slaves, this suspicion grew more robust. Several more skirmishes were fought. These were largely inconclusive as his men scoured the island.


    "Is everything prepared?" asked Sahshir of Narcissa by the docks.


    "Yes, Sahshir, for the last time," said Narcissa, flipping through pages. "We''ve commandeered five merchants'' vessels for our use. And we''ve conscripted sailors to help us. We''ve got a crew of twenty on each, besides my troops. We should get to Nagos and, with any luck, bring him back.


    "This isn''t really my thing. Alkela has always been better at records and such." She sighed. "I hope you know what you''re doing with this."


    "Don''t worry," said Sahshir in amusement. "If I don''t, none of us will be alive to bear the shame of defeat."


    Narcissa didn''t smile; if anything, she looked more annoyed. "Why did Nagos have to leave when he did?"


    "He couldn''t have known another fleet would come," noted Sahshir.


    "But he could have suspected!" said Narcissa. "He knew something like this might happen and went off to sink more fleets!"


    "You think he wanted this place to fall?" mused Sahshir.


    "He probably decided that he''d rather not protect it and go to serve the Emperor in other ways," said Narcissa. "The Emperor will not appreciate it since he''s presently a corpse. Just as planned, I''ll bet."


    "Has there been any word from our fleets?"


    Narcissa sighed. "Yes. A bird arrived for you, bearing this message from home." She drew out a scroll and offered it to Sahshir.


    Sahshir took it. "Thank you."


    Unrolling it, Sahshir saw it was from his uncle. He smiled at how he was addressed for the first time in a long time.


    King Sahshir,


    We''ve been worsted on the ocean but kept the ships intact. We Kalthakians could be better at this kind of fighting. So I''m sending out small fleets to raid shipping and have ordered them to avoid the main fleet.


    I''ve ordered the harbors fortified and dispatched Sushaki to see to the matter. In this, he has made me proud. The Sornians launched an attack, but we repulsed it and took a few of their vessels. Even so, Raj seems ill-suited as an admiral. He performs better than I would have, but most of his time is spent leading raids.


    He has gathered a lot of booty from a raid on one of the Sornian Sugar Islands. There he burned several houses and freed many slaves. I have begun training them as spearmen. They may die well, repulsing enemy invaders, but they are loyal.


    I advise that we abandon the sea war and look weak.


    Let the Sornians think us beaten and invade on land. There we may crush them at our more substantial area of fighting. We have the advantage on the home ground.


    Oh, and Western Kalthak wants to join in. They''ve asked for permission to aid our fleets. I don''t care much for the worshippers of Rammas, a son who betrays his father is unworthy. Even if that father is Baltoth. But we''ll need all the help we can get with Sorn raiding the shores. As such, I have chosen to accept their offer.


    I''d ask for your input, but by the time this gets to you, the war will be in full swing, and any orders you give will be moot.


    I hate long-distance communication,


    Your Affectionate Uncle, Asim


    Sahshir laughed. Narcissa looked up in surprise. "What is it? What''s so funny?"


    "Well, now we know why Sen Kaiban is sending a fleet after us," said Sahshir, rolling the paper up. "Raj launched raids on his islands." He didn''t feel depressed, though; all men died. Most men failed miserably. To die gloriously was a privilege.


    "We were at war with Sorn anyway," said Narcissa.


    "We were at war with House Magnious, and House Kaiban might have cheered to watch them burn," said Sahshir. "They are much like Western and Eastern Kalthak, to be honest. Now we''re contending with Sorn as a whole. They even attempted an attack on our harbors, though they were forced back." He pocketed the letter.


    "No matter. When we crush, both of them will be glorious."


    A member of the Silent Guard rushed forward and kneeled before him. Sahshir gave me leave to speak. "King Sahshir, Aresif has returned. With him are a large number of Kalthakian and Zigilithian slaves."


    Sahshir looked up in amusement. "They are not slaves anymore. We''ll see to such things after we''re done here."


    Sahshir and Narcissa marched out to meet the new arrivals before the gates. All of them were fit and young, some too young. Many saluted. "King Sahshir, we serve Baltoth in all things."


    Sahshir nodded. "Brothers, I am pleased to see you here. In the name of Baltoth, I bid you welcome, and you need not fear chains here. Aresif, are these all of them?"


    "Yes," said Aresif. "Some chose to stay with Garacel. They fear the power of Sorn, who are planning a landing."


    "Are they?" asked Sahshir. "And what part does Garacel have in it?"


    "He plans to secure a landing point for them and ensure we do not interfere," said Aresif. "Get these men weapons and let us prepare for war, Narcissa; see to your business."


    Narcissa set out that day. Sahshir had neither the time nor patience for the formality of seeing her off. He was too busy.


    Of course, while arming them, Romilis was less than happy. Neither were any of his men. "You want to give these runaway slaves weapons?" asked Romilis.


    "We need all the men we can get if we are to emerge victorious here," said Sahshir, looking on as men were given new weapons.


    "Will you at least return them to their chains when we''re done?" asked Romilis.


    Sahshir looked at him flatly. "Do you think they will fight for us under such conditions?"


    Romilis flinched under his gaze. Eventually, he looked away. "You don''t have to tell them."


    Sahshir''s hand was at his sword momentarily but halted the movement before he drew it. Sahshir calmed himself. "... Don''t ever suggest I break my word of honor again, merchant." Then he looked to Aresif. "Aresif, what is Garacel''s plan, if anything."


    "He has allied with Sen Kaba, agreeing to shield his landing," said Aresif.


    "However, he expects to be betrayed. He has some plan that accounts for this, though I need to see what it could be.


    "He has also established fortifications on a hill amid the swamps. An alliance with Laevian protects him from disease, and he is growing strong. Food is provided by bountiful plant growth."


    "Then let''s stop wasting time and attack!" said Romilis, voice desperate. "If we strike at them hard and fast, we may be able to finish the slaves once and for all!"


    "Do you not think we should deal with the Sornian invasion before we contend with a ragtag group of bandits?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    "The Sornians we can make a deal with," said Romilis. "Those slaves all need to die."


    "What of your loyalty to Dinis?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    "The Emperor is dead!" said Romilis. "His priests of Safara, we demand we treat our property as people! They tell us how we should run our own affairs and tax us to the hilt!


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    "Why should we fight to defend his nation when-"


    "You owe the Emperor your allegiance; he is my ally," said Sahshir, wishing dearly to kill the man. "I will not tolerate any further dissent. Get the militia, now. All of them. As soon as the scouts arrive, we''re marching to war."


    And so they did.


    Once again, they issued forth from the gates and were in greater numbers this time than before. Traveling in ranks, they moved on. The Dinisian militia numbered perhaps six hundred and grew as they went on. As Sahshir marched, he reflected it would be best if the colonial militia took the brunt of the assault. Cutting down on their numbers would make it easier to control this place.


    No.


    No, he would give each force the task they were best suited for.


    On they marched, and soon enough, the scouts returned. The man bowed. "King Sahshir, we''ve found their landing site. They''re sitting down on the far side of the island. Garacel has established his forces there, and they are guarding the approach."


    "How many do they number?" asked Sahshir.


    "I could not get an exact count of the Sornians, but there were nearly a thousand on the shore. Garacel has numbers larger still than what they have. Though the Sornians seem well trained and equipped."


    "Lead on," said Sahshir.


    They marched swiftly, and the Hand of Baltoth must have been driving them on, for the journey was swift. They passed wrecked homes and obliterated farms, and many colonists looked grim. But the Kalthakians cheered at the sight. Sahshir was quick to quash these celebrations, of course.


    "They are our allies, and you will not mourn their misfortune," he said. But the fact was noticed by Romilis.


    And at last, they rounded a hill and saw the fleet of House Kaiban. Even now, vessels were being unloaded of men and supplies. Their soldiers wore armor and were at the ready. It was obvious they would need to be taken off guard easily. Even now, they were assembling. Sahshir moved back to his subordinates and spoke with them each.


    "Romilus, your men will take the right flank," said Sahshir. "Aresif, take the slaves not from Kalthak and place them on the left. Marius shall form the center of the army. We''ll advance down the hill and overwhelm them in one stroke."


    "What of your forces?" asked Romilis.


    "My Kalthakians will remain in reserve," said Sahshir. "And strike wherever we see an opportunity. Unfortunately, we are not well suited to engagements of attrition."


    "Very convenient, of course," said Romilis.


    Sahshir ignored the barb.


    The army was assembled, and their forces were put into good order. Even as the assault began, however, Sorn had thrown together a battle line. Spears were lowered, and the two sides marched toward one another.


    Nearer and nearer they went, the battle seemed about to be joined. Then, suddenly, there was a signal horn blown. The colonial militia turned. They were breaking off from the battle in an organized retreat. But, before any action could be taken, the Sornians rushed forward as if expecting it.


    "Cowards!" snarled Sahshir. "They''ve withdrawn before the face of the enemy! Forward to battle!"


    Sahshir sprinted forward with all his might, trying to reach the breach in time. Sprinting ahead of his men, he leaped upon the Sornians and hacked them apart into spears. He cut down two men in a flurry of strikes, and the line slowed beneath his attacks.


    Then the rest of his men came in, and the battle was joined.


    Sahshir saw one of his men impaled through the stomach. Then the spearman had his head cut from his shoulders. A legionnaire ran a Sornian spearman through the gut and knocked back a pike. Sahshir hacked and slashed with all his might, trying to break the enemy lines.


    But these men were no frightened slaves. On the contrary, they were grim and experienced, and heavily armored. Even now, more and more men are killed. "For Sorn! For Suvvest!" They cried. "For the Coin!"


    "For Baltoth! For the Inexorable One!" howled Sahshir.


    The combat was a blur of severed limbs and the howls of the dying. The men of Kalthak fought like the Immortals of Baltoth themselves. But little by little, they were failing.


    Then it happened.


    The enemy line buckled. Looking up, Sahshir saw that Aresif had broken the left flank. But, even now, the enemy was fleeing to the sea. Soon the whole Sornian army was breaking as men withdrew.


    "They''re drawing back! Abandoning the attack!" cried Aresif, sword in hand.


    "Don''t let them break free!" said Sahshir, realizing this was a critical moment. "Kill as many as you can!"


    So they descended, cutting down all they could find. But the Sornian retreat was well-ordered. A small knot of men turned and faced them, holding them back for precious moments. Finally, their comrades got aboard the boats. Then they fled.


    The victory was theirs; now, they had to tend to the wounded.


    There were far more dead than wounded. Marius'' physicians were more than sufficient for the task, well-practiced as they were. But as Sahshir looked out over the sea, he realized that there were many fewer ships than expected. Fewer even than House Magnious had deployed before.


    "King Sahshir!" laughed Aresif. "Those cowards in the militia have been ambushed! Garacel caught them while they were fleeing and killed many!"


    "Why are you celebrating?" asked Sahshir. "We have been betrayed. Romilis had arranged this beforehand. I must head back to the city. Sen Kaba has already raised his banner over it. Marius, take command and possession of these supplies.


    "My guard and I will scout matters out."


    Sahshir hated being right.


    There was House Kaiban''s symbol, as it had looked in the books. A white dragon on a purple background. And on the walls were many men with crossbows and armor.


    "A diversion," said Aresif.


    And then Garacel appeared in a mist of black smoke, as expected. "Yes. And it is the seeds of ever greater hatred."


    "We have a common enemy," said Sahshir flatly.


    Garacel blinked. "You are perceptive. What makes you sure I am not Kaba''s ally?"


    "He would not have convinced Romilis to betray us if he did not intend to put your people back in chains," said Sahshir. "And you would not have been standing by to ambush the militia if you hadn''t at least counted on the fact.


    "I merely assumed you were here to ask for an alliance."


    "You go on too fast," said Garacel. "Kaba''s failure is not yet complete."


    And he motioned with the Blade of Chaos. As he did, an image appeared before Sahshir and Aresif. It was Lieutenant Garrick walking through the streets of the city. Men were being treated for injuries there by the women. Heavily armed soldiers patrolled the streets.


    And there was Kaba, or so Sahshir assumed by his long coat and how others spoke carefully. He was sitting at a table, writing quickly in elegant handwriting as Garrick stood before him.


    Kaba pretended to take no notice of Garrick as he waited. It may have been an effort to intimidate. It worked on some of the other hangers-on; they looked nervous. But Garrick simply stood there, expression flat and emotionless. He did not so much as shift as he stood there like a statue.


    "Lieutenant Garrick, you''ve returned," said Kaba, looking up.


    "Yes, I have to ensure the completion of the contract," said Garrick simply. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Contract?" asked Kaba, a smile coming to his face.


    "An agreement was made between you and Garacel," said Garrick. "We would ensure your forces could land, and in exchange, this area would be set up as an independent island." He looked to Romilis, who stood by Kaba''s left side. "Obviously, the situation has changed. I believe we should renegotiate the terms of the agreement."


    "There will be no negotiation," said Kaba. "Garacel''s ''people'' are stolen property. They were never his to negotiate on behalf of in the first place. The deal was made under false pretenses." And he went back to writing as and pretended to take no more notice of him.


    "You who have gone behind Garacel''s back to ally with his enemies speak of false pretense?" asked Garrick. Kaba held Garrick''s stare, and the two just looked at each other.


    Kaba shifted in a sign of unease. "If you have nothing else to say, leave my presence."


    Garrick drew out a scroll and unrolled it. "I have here a signed contract of Coinfurth you put your name on. By signing this, you acknowledged Garacel as the legitimate steward of his people. It is implicit in the agreement.


    "He provided a service by diverting your enemies. You still need to give the agreed-upon payment. Indeed, you have already promised what you owe him to those you agreed to exterminate. This does not seem legal to me."


    Kaba suddenly looked up, and his smile had totally faded. "Legal?" he asked. "The law is a tool the rich use to control the poor. Nothing more. It has no actual meaning beyond that."


    "You have not had your throat cut by those who shave you," noted Garrick. "So clearly, it has some meaning. I think you would be long dead in a world without contracts."


    "Maybe so," said Kaba, "but you seem to have the wrong idea about the purpose of contracts. You may think that laws, morals, and religions are all things that bind the world together.


    "They don''t.


    "Power and money hold the world together. The Great Noble Houses of Sorn like to tell themselves that they''re superior to the sheep they cheat. They makeup concepts like nobless oblige or the Suvvestian code. They argue about precedents and such so they can feel smug.


    "In the end, though, they''re all fools.


    "I don''t deal with things without profit. I don''t stand to profit from those savages not being enslaved. And since you cannot enforce the worthless scrap of paper in front of you, I''m cutting costs."


    "You may make what excuses you will, Kaba. However, you have signed your signature on a document of trade," said Garrick. "You will pay the agreed-upon sum or renegotiate your contract. If you do not, it will be considered a breach." How had he made that sound terrifying?


    Kaba snatched the contract from his hand and tore it apart. "To hell with your contract. I am rich, and they are poor."


    "And you will learn that money is only symbolic of value," replied Garrick.


    The wind howled, and Garrick drew his sword. The massive blade shot down as a thunderbolt, and Kaba rolled aside. The ground cracked where it smote the cobblestones, and a pit was delved into the earth. Kaba drew out his knives, and then Garrick was on him with a feral snarl on his face. Two guards in full armor barred his path and were cut clean in half with one blow. Kaba ducked behind a pillar to avoid Garrick''s next stroke. The pillar shattered, and stones flew around them.


    As Garrick advanced, Kaba hurled a knife, which was easily deflected. Guards came from around, yet Garrick swung his sword in great arcs. Each one cleaved through armor and flesh and bone-like string. He seemed veiled now in a golden light so that he seemed now a statue of precious metal.


    In terrible fury, the Knight of the Coin advanced on Kaba. Corpses and blood were everywhere as men cowered before the face of Coinfurth. Kaba, however, remained composed and expressionless. He drew out two more long knives and took a stance.


    Garrick seemed about to rush at him.


    Then he halted as if a voice was speaking to him. "Your debts will be paid. In this life. Or the next." Then the winds howled as a hurricane, and Garrick disappeared in a shower of gold. "Coinfurth will collect his due."


    And the only remnant of his presence was the winds, which continued long after.

 Chapter Twenty-Five: New Alliances

    The vision ended, and silence reigned between them.


    Sahshir considered making a speech about having a common enemy. Thoughts occurred to him of elaborate poetic flourishes. He could invoke grand conceptions of hatred put aside and the glory of cooperation. He might cite Garacel as a worthy opponent and his bravery and cunning. Or note that they shared a common enemy. Defeat and friendship were said to go hand in hand at times. But no one around needed to hear it, and Sahshir had no desire to be social. So he merely kept on looking at Garacel flatly.


    "Why did he kill the guards and not Kaba?" asked Sahshir. "It would have solved a great many problems."


    "For us, yes," said Garacel. "Unfortunately, not for Garrick. He is a Knight of the Coin, an order gradually failing. The Great Houses pay lip service to Coinfurth but regard his servants as sheep.


    "If Garrick were to assassinate Kaba, it would be political," said Garacel. "It could throw Sorn''s war effort into disarray and draw the ire of the Great Houses on his order.


    "Instead, he made a show of force and prophecied the downfall of Kaba. I expect Coinfurth will withdraw his support now. Kaba is too influential in destroying directly, but the seeds of his end may be sewn now.


    "Where did you send Narcissa?"


    "To get help from King Nagos against you," said Sahshir, reflecting the measure was wasted now. "It is something of a moot point now, isn''t it? So what are your plans?"


    Garacel crossed his arms and smiled as his gaze turned to the swamps. "I have erected fortifications in the swamps that will suffice. They are now under the protection of Laevian and Elranor. We may establish ourselves there.


    "Follow me."


    "Not without my men," replied Sahshir, refusing to go into the lion''s den alone. "We will meet with my warriors first."


    Garacel nodded and walked behind him. Together they strode back across the island, leaving the city behind them. As they walked, Sahshir reflected that Garacel''s prediction would likely come true. Mass death would soon consume this world, and he saw little way that it could be prevented.


    Gods did not make idle threats.


    But it is possible to save some of those on this island. Though his own men must come first. Perhaps Garacel had picked up on these thoughts because they infuriated him.


    Soon enough, they came back to the camp.


    There, Marius established a camp and erected walls around the supplies. A small fort had been found here. It had a trench surrounding a palisade reinforced by hills of dirt and trenches. Each of his soldiers carried several stakes which could be planted in the ground to form a wall. No trees had been hewed from the nearby forests. Cesspits were being dug, and there was a source of fresh water in a stream coming out of the hills. It looked like refugees of all kinds had come to them for shelter.


    Marius met him at the gate, adjusting his blade in the sheathe. "Sahshir, you''ve returned. Unfortunately, we have a problem, don''t we?"


    "Yes, Marius," said Sahshir. "The capital is held against us. How are our men?"


    "Most are healed, and we''ve gathered supplies as we could find," said Marius. "Since we set up here, refugees have come from the surrounding lands. But unfortunately, not everyone was able to escape to the city.


    "I''m not comfortable leaving them here.


    "What are your orders?"


    "Garacel and we have a common enemy," said Sahshir. "I will take my personal forces and meet up with his troops. You will remain here and fortify your position. It should give Kaba something to attack.


    "You can hold him in place long enough for us to strike from behind."


    "We are the legions," said Marius simply. "No Sornian mercenary shall pass out the shield wall."


    "Good," said Sahshir before glancing at Garacel. "Garacel, you will lead us into the swamp. First, however, I will need your sword to show good faith. It will be held by Marius until such time as the battle is over."


    Garacel halted momentarily, clenched the Blade of Chaos, and drew it out. "Very well." The Blade of Chaos gleamed as Marius took it, and his hands visibly sagged. There was a howl and a snarl from it. Marius drew out his sword and offered it to Garacel, who took it without expression. "I will expect it back, of course."


    "Are you certain of this?" asked Marius.


    "I am certain I can kill him before he can escape," said Sahshir. "And I doubt he has anything to gain by turning on us. We have a much greater enemy to face." Then he turned to Garacel, who was testing the weight of the blade.


    "We have much work to do," said Garacel after a moment.


    And so they set out.


    The marshes were filthy, stank to high heaven, and were infested with flies. But, oddly enough, none of the flies went after them. Instead, they strode through the water, and the worst of the muck seemed to shrink away from them.


    "You have an alliance with the spirits of this place," guessed Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Garacel. "One long in the making. With Laevian taking my part, I have complete dominion over these lands.


    "Often, slaves have dwelled here in hiding for some years. There are villages within this place, where many have spent long years hiding. The slavers are forbidden to cut these woods, you see."


    "And how do you know of them?" asked Sahshir.


    Garacel tossed Marius'' blade into the air, then caught it halfway down. "During my years of service to Zigildrazia, I came here often. I created the communities within this place and kept them hidden.


    "See here."


    He pointed to a tree, and looking at it, Sahshir perceived a faint symbol, half-covered by green moss. As they drew near, the character shone brilliantly for a moment. Then, the earth rose from the mud, revealing a stairway.


    "What is this?" asked Sahshir.


    "A spell cast long ago thanks to deals with the spirits," said Garacel. "Come, we have much to discuss."


    Together they descended the staircase and were greeted by a deformed man. One wearing many garments. With him were dozens upon dozens of men with spears trained on them. "Lord Garacel, you''ve returned. Are these those you spoke of?"


    "Indeed they are, Baj," said Garacel. "My servants, we now face a common enemy. For as I foresaw, the Sornians have betrayed us. Even now, their scouts are streaming through the lands, looking for us. So bring clothes and food for them.


    "But, there is time yet."


    "I would know your plans, Garacel," said Sahshir,.glancing back to his guard.


    "Then let us speak of them elsewhere," said Garacel. "You need not fear me here."


    "I fear nothing," said Sahshir. Death was inevitable; what did it matter if it came a year or two early? Garacel''s assurances were as meaningless as water pouring into sand.


    Garacel smiled. Sahshir didn''t see what was amusing, and he didn''t particularly care. "As you say. Come with me."


    Sahshir glanced back and motioned an order. The samurai nodded and dispersed.


    "Not a talkative bunch, are they?" asked Garacel.


    "They are the Silent Guard," said Sahshir. "Samurai, who has sworn never to speak so long as they serve in the Royal Guard. Speech is only permitted them when making reports, and their names are not to be spoken."


    "What purpose could that serve?" asked Garacel.


    "A man who cannot speak cannot plot against his master," said Sahshir. "It is also a form of monkhood."


    "Both debatable statements," mused Garacel. "Though I imagine it would make things more difficult. Would you care for something to drink? There is little here, but such as they have is yours."


    "No," said Sahshir flatly.


    Garacel eyed him carefully as Sahshir sipped from his waterskin. His expression was unreadable, and his eyes were hard. "You hate me, don''t you, Sahshir? I might inquire as to why. Aside from defeating that priestess in fair battle, what crime have I committed-"


    "You slaughtered an entire city," replied Sahshir. "You unleashed armies of monsters on those you were meant to protect. Then, for the sake of your designs, you exterminated your own subjects."


    "Zigildrazia''s subjects, and it was Zigildrazia''s will," said Garacel. "Do you Kalthakians not maintain that loyalty to a lord is the great virtue."


    "A lord has obligations of their own," said Sahshir. "You betrayed your people. As did Zigildrazia."


    "Perhaps you should ask them if they are furious as you are," noted Garacel.


    "They should be," said Sahshir simply. "You have no right to call yourself a lord."


    "And I do not," said Garacel. "Others gave me that title. Can you say the same, Kalthakian?


    "The people of Zigilus devoted themselves wholly to Zigildrazia. They understand well that they were hers to use or break as she saw fit. Therefore, you will not find any moral outrage from them."


    "They will have it when Baltoth restores them to as they should be," replied Sahshir.


    For the first time, Garacel looked angry as he turned to Sahshir. "Baltoth? Baltoth crucifies thousands of his subjects as he praises his enemies. Baltoth, who has a harem of thousands and yet who denies his subjects more than one wife.


    "He has no idea what things should be, for he is an aberration. The one true God, Valranor, was usurped by him. But the day shall come when Valranor shall rise again, and on that day, those who aid Baltoth shall die with him.


    "His curse is on him even now."


    "That day will never come," replied Sahshir simply. "And if it does, you shall never see it. For I will slay you someday. Though my body may fail me, my spirit shall see you dead."


    "Then try yourself against me when we no longer have a common enemy," said Garacel. He shrugged in resignation and checked the sword at his side. "This is a fine sword." Then he glanced to where Baj had crept up. "What news, Baj?"


    "The Sornians are marching toward our strongholds," said Baj. "Sen Kaba is filling in the marsh with bags of sand, and the militia is working with him. Others have dispatched messages to Marius, seeking to negotiate his surrender. In addition, Kaba''s forces are establishing a perimeter of walls outside the fort.


    "Even as we speak, he is bringing in more troops from his fleet."


    "Then we will have enough time. Laevian''s diseases may serve us well here," said Garacel.


    Sahshir contemplated this. He considered that Kaba had divided his forces. If things continued like this, they''d have a lengthy war. One with massive cost to all sides, culminating in a meaningless truce. Even if won, it would only result in the will of Garacel being fulfilled.


    Sahshir contemplated what he knew of Kaba. From this, he concluded that any deal made with him would be worthless. Any negotiations that would be worth having would require his removal. Now the question became: How could he use the fact. "I need no god of Harlenor to win my battles," said Sahshir. "Garacel, can you bring me out near their number?"


    "Baj can take you anywhere on this island unseen," said Garacel. "But if you are pursued into the swamps, I will not open the gates for you."


    "So be it," said Sahshir. "I will gain this victory without you." Then he turned to the Silent Guard. "Brothers! Samurai of Kalthak! We go to fall on our enemy while they stand guard! Any who wish to fight alongside us are welcome! Those who would remain here may cower here!"


    "I''m compelled to ask what your plan here is," noted Garacel.


    "Death or glory," replied Sahshir. "And a calculated risk."


    "Of course," said Garacel with obvious sarcasm.


    Sahshir did not expect him to understand. Nor did he want him to. Garacel deserved neither. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter Twenty-Six: Surprise Attack

    It was the edge of the swamp. From the looks, it was several hundred feet further inland than last time. Great camps of men were all along with it, and even now, in the waning light, they worked. Bags of sand was brought in and shoveled into the water. Trees were felled, and the lumber was used to build watchtowers and fortifications.


    But in most, it was thrown aside to rot. The Sornians were working to ensure their passage and destroy these lands. Given the number of bodies piled up nearby, diseases had been set on them already.


    Sen Kaba, evidently, was a practitioner of the Old Harlenorian style of warfare. Like Anoa the Bright before him, he worked to break the will of the land itself.


    "There they are," said Sahshir, glancing back to his men and motioning. "Assemble."


    Many guards were standing by some distance away from the swamp. They held long halberds and wore metal masks as well as helmets. There were runes on their armor to ward off disease. Meanwhile, Sornian workers labored against the marsh without protection.


    Vines surged upward, grabbing several slaves and pulling them into the murky water. There was a gurgling scream as men scrambled back. The guards moved toward it, a stroke of luck.


    No, the will of the gods.


    The land itself howled beneath Kaiban''s army. The spirits spoke in whispers, some pleading, some wrathful. But through the Sword of Order, Sahshir could sense Kaiban''s only reply. "Submit. Or be destroyed."


    Sahshir looked back as more guards were drawn off. The workers clustered behind them in what they thought was safety. "Now, listen to me; our task here is not to slay warriors but workers.


    "We will strike hard and kill those least armored. And when we have driven them in, we shall strike again still harder. But we shall draw back into the night when the enemy line solidifies.


    "Understand?"


    The Silent Guard nodded.


    Sahshir smiled beneath his mask. "Good. For Kalthak and Baltoth."


    And they crept forward as the sound of fighting was heard. Vines rose over the trees, and flames caught on some foliage. Screams of pain echoed as they neared the worker, who was retasked. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "So, why are we working at all this anyway? Can''t we just let the slaves die of disease?" asked one. "Coinfurth knows enough of us have."


    "General Kaba believes that they have a deal with Laevian." said another. "Since she''s decided to pit herself against him, he wants this land ruined. So once we''ve killed all the slaves, we''ll hack down all her sacred groves and fill in the waters.


    "Teach her a lesson."


    "She''s a goddess of plague, you fool," said a third one. "You can''t teach gods anything."


    "Gods need us more than we need them," shot back the first. "So long as we''re willing to give as good as we get, we can keep ''em in check. It''ll be just like fighting a mortal enemy, only we''re fighting diseases."


    "Still, I hear Kaba had a scuffle with a Knight of the Coin," said a fourth, not seeing Sahshir as he drew near.


    "The Knights of the Coin are a bunch of relics, lad," came the reply. "Nobody cares about their precious contracts; it''s all just ink on a-"


    Sahshir stepped into the light of the fire and brought around his sword. The head fell from the speaker''s shoulders, and blood spewed. Younger men recoiled in horror. "Bassar!"


    "For Calisha!" cried Sahshir.


    And then the attack began.


    They were not fighting armed men but workers without weapons beyond knives. Most were likely conscripts, and they fell quickly. Sahshir hacked and slashed ahead of his warriors, killing as many as he could. Some scattered and ran, only to be caught by birds that pecked out their eyes. Others tried to hold back the tide and were slaughtered in mere moments.


    "Press the attack! Let none survive!" cried Sahshir. "We are the retribution of the Gods! None shall withstand us!"


    They charged into the camp, slashing down men where they were resting. Guards rushed to delay them while others went for weapons, and the battle began. Sahshir slashed apart a spear and stabbed through a gap in his enemy''s armor. The man screamed in agony, falling backward.


    Around them, the enemy began to form up, grasping weapons and rising.


    "The slaves! The slaves are upon us!" cried someone.


    Sahshir saw the guards of the slavers coming from the swamp to aid the defenders. But out of the shadows came Garacel, taking to the air and cleaving down two. With him came the slaves, and the reinforcements were forced to turn and fight.


    Then began the slaughter.


    Sahshir killed all who stood before him and saw his men slay many. But soon enough, they were facing stiffer resistance. Already he could see some of his men dying. Garacel''s slaves were held in place, and many were dying. They had killed many, but the defense was growing too strong.


    "Pull back!" called Sahshir. "Back to the swamps, quickly!" And drawing a horn from his side, he sounded the retreat.


    Back they went, like phantoms, leaving behind them many corpses. Garacel''s men drew back, repulsed by the defense. Arrows shot over their sides as they entered the marsh, but no man dared follow beyond the light of the torches.


    Sahshir stood vigil at the edge, looking over the camp.


    Sen Kaba came forward, speaking to the men and organizing the healing of the sick and injured. His face remained expressionless as he drew near alongside Romilis.


    "This kind of operation is dangerous, Lord Kaba," said Romilis. "I did say that the slaves could emerge suddenly."


    "The losses are easily replaceable," said Kaba. "With the soldiers dead, we need not worry about paying them at war''s end. Instead, take the bodies and feed them to the swamp. Let the spirits choke on the dead."


    Romilis shuddered. "Sir, Sahshir is a dangerous enemy. It may be wise to seek terms of a sort with him. Let him leave with his men."


    "My negotiations with Marius are already underway," said Kaba. "Once Dinis is no longer a concern, a few black-skinned savages will be nothing." He looked to where the bodies of the men were being hurled into the water for fish and flies. "I''m more than pleased with the results.""Pleased?" asked Romilis. "Surely, this raid was a defeat."


    "Sahshir''s men escaped largely unscathed," said Sen Kaba, "but we killed many slaves. They aren''t trained soldiers and are poorly equipped. A few more victories like this, and they''ll be totally eradicated."


    "Then who will work the fields?" asked Romilis flatly. "Need I remind you that this island will be economically devastated for years as things stand. Kill all the slaves, and Sorn may not benefit from this conquest in your lifetime."


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    "I''ve captured many slaves in my raids," said Kaba. "Once the situation is settled, I will transfer some of them to your people as a loan. Though I''ll expect interest for it."


    "Ah," said Romilis, voice holding an edge. "Well, I suppose that will profit you, at least."


    "Do you have a suggestion for how this campaign should be conducted?" asked Sen Kaiban. "Or are you just going to whine at me?"


    "Make a deal with Sahshir," said Romilis. "I''m already in communication with Dinis. With the Emperor dead, they want to end the war as quickly as possible."


    "I''m sure they are," said Kaba, "but I want Chaminus."


    "Yes, we all have a lot of things, don''t we?" snapped Romilis. "Nagos has devised weapons that make his fleet more powerful than the entire Dinis navy. Moreover, he is close friends with Sahshir, who is young and impetuous. If I were him, and Dinis demanded I cede my island to you...


    "I might just try to go down fighting."


    "Are you implying something?" asked Kaba, voice hard.


    "No," said Romilis. "Just stating a fact. The first thing he did after becoming King of Chaminus was abolish slavery. All while providing compensation for all those who lost slaves. Nagos will hear about what happened here. He will know that you broke your deal with Garacel."


    "As I said, the deal was made under false pretenses-" began Kaiban.


    "Nagos doesn''t care about your technicalities; he hates everything you represent," said Romilis. "And he is an undefeated war leader who led a token force to confront House Magnious'' fleets. If you go to Dinis and demand they cede Chaminus, one of two things will happen. First, they may refuse, and the war will continue. In such a situation, Nagos'' dominance in the sea would make a land invasion of Dinis your best hope.


    "There is a rule about starting a land war in Dinis. Never do it.


    "Alternatively, they may yield Chaminus to you. In that case, Nagos will simply raise a rebellion against you. Chaminus is guarded by a mighty dragon sworn to defend its shores. In which case, you will lose entire fleets, meaning Dinis will likely come back to try and take it.


    "Or, Calisha will make Nagos an offer. They are expanding their influence.


    "Unless Nagos is defeated tomorrow, which I do not believe likely, our best solution is to seek a truce. The advantage may be lost to us soon. Once peace is restored, we can work to learn Nagos'' secrets or find a counter."


    "...And what would you recommend we do?" asked Seth.


    "Garacel and Sahshir are sworn enemies," said Romilis. "Once Marius has received confirmation from his government, I doubt he will want to remain. So let him take his people and get out with the legions.


    "Once Marius and Sahshir are gone, that leaves only Garacel and his slaves. We can take our time putting down the revolt. Calisha may even be convinced to aid us, given their enmity with Garacel."


    "...Fine then," said Kaba, "I''ll consider making an alliance with the leper. But I''ll do so in my own way."


    "Don''t underestimate Sahshir," hissed Romilis. "His people are talented warriors, and he is far more intelligent than most. If you break a deal with him, he isn''t just going to swear the gods will avenge it. Instead, he will become the instrument of that vengeance.


    "The man speaks casually of wounding gods and commands the respect of the legions!


    "Make a deal with him and abide by the terms. That''s my advice."


    Kaba scoffed and walked away.


    Sahshir made his way into the swamp. As he did, he reflected that he still respected Romilis. The man had been acting to preserve his culture. Besides, Sahshir''s authority was arguably gone with the death of Octovus.


    He had gotten through to Kaba, probably.


    But Sahshir suspected that Kaba would want to make the deal a display of dominance. That got him thinking. If Kaba betrayed the rules of the parley, Sahshir would be justified in killing him. Or perhaps taking him captive.


    It was a matter worthy of consideration.


    For now, there was a victory celebration to plan.


    It seemed Garacel had already made the preparations for said celebration. It involved much alcohol and many young women from the villages. Sahshir began to suspect that the slaves freed from bondage were mere cannon fodder. Meant to do the dying so that the people Garacel had already indoctrinated could take the land.


    Many of them worshipped Zigildrazia.


    Morale was unexpectedly high, actually.


    Garacel''s warriors had taken many casualties, but they hardly minded. Men and women had come from the slave villages spoken of and brought with them wine. Naturally, Sahshir and his men took no part in the resulting festivities. He dearly wished he had a priest to preach the destructive nature of alcoholism.


    Unfortunately, he did not. Or not one that could speak without breaking vows.


    So he settled for addressing his warriors and those who had marched with him in battle.


    "Warriors, we will fast for a day and a night thanks to Baltoth for the victory. Those of you who do not worship Baltoth are, of course, exempt."


    "Why do you fast?" asked Garacel, who was practicing his handwriting.


    "Food, while necessary, can distract one from the true nature of reality," said Sahshir. "All things are at their fullest when according to His will.


    "By fasting after a victory, we free our spirits from worldly obsessions. In so doing, we gain the strength to win many others.


    "Now, let us pray."


    Drawing his sword, he kneeled and laid it before him. The Silent Guard did the same, and Sahshir raised his hands. "Baltoth, the Inexorable One, we thank you for our enemies'' blood spilling across the field. We ask that you infuse us with your will so that we might drive the enemies of Calisha before us. Let us see their armies shattered, their lands despoiled by your will. And their women were brought into the fold.


    "Your anger burns greater than heaven''s lights and hellfire''s depths. Your retribution is like a thousand other gods. So grant us victory, and we shall hail your name." He opened his eyes and saw that others had looked on. "Our prayer is done. Now, cleanse yourself and see to your weapons."


    "What a remarkable prayer. As if Baltoth might grant any of it," said Garacel, putting down his brush.


    "Baltoth has never been defeated on the battle field," said Sahshir.


    "Yes, he has. I did it myself, and Vanion Gabriel did it this year," said Garacel.


    "Such victories as seem defeats are in reality greater deception," replied Sahshir. "Baltoth allows his enemies to gain the field, that they might in time become his. Or be destroyed by their own reckless hubris. All things are done as he wills them, and though some may defy him, they cannot escape their fate."


    "Nor can he," noted Garacel. "For is not Baltoth doomed to die by the hand of the Heir of Kings?"


    "Prophecy is, but His will incarnate," said Sahshir. "If it fails, then it shall serve as proof that Baltoth is beyond fate, above sight and sound. Yet if it succeeds, it shall be but a temporary defeat. One that helps only to make his ultimate victory all the more significant.


    "For he is beyond death."


    "A careful web of delusions you have set yourself in," said Garacel. "No man may escape fate. What has been preordained shall come to pass, whatever struggles one makes."


    "And yet one can change the context of that fate," noted Sahshir.


    "Context?" laughed Garacel. "There is only our actions and our end. So the context is irrelevant."


    "There was once a King of Kalthak who read a prophecy that his firstborn son would one day kill him," said Sahshir. "Knowing that he could not escape his fate, this King ruled as benevolently as he could. He raised his son on ideals of honor and justice. No man was homeless or unhappy in his domain, and the fate that was his doom seemed inevitable.


    "Then the firstborn son murdered him and seized the throne for his own. The King died, but ever after, was lamented. The son was hated and despised for his wicked act, and soon his tyranny was overthrown.


    "The King could have succumbed to fear and tried to kill his son. He might have sought to root out all who opposed him. But instead, he sought righteousness and died well and mourned by thousands. His deeds and actions were within his control."


    "And what of the son? Was he not fated to slay his father?" asked Garacel.


    "Had he stayed true to his path, he might have had a better fate. Then, perhaps one day, killed him while hunting. Then he could have mourned him as a son should," said Sahshir. "If he had done so, he might have become a good king in his own right."


    "I remember Ezek all too well," noted Garacel with a smile. "As I remember his father. And your people are not his. You came from Dinis, fleeing Safara. You destroyed that kingdom, killed the men, enslaved the women, and laid waste to all you found.


    "Then, as your bloodlines mingled, you invented new stories. Delusions meant to paint yourselves as the rightful heirs of land you stole. You robbed them of their history to cover up your own history of barbarism. Now you stand before me. You act like you have some right to the ground upon which your huts stand."


    "All things are afforded to the gods to decide," said Sahshir without apology. "It was Baltoth''s will that we should gain victory. And Baltoth''s will that the Naminese should be overthrown. Our bloodlines have mingled, and from each race, their strengths have combined." He took up his sword and rose. "We are Kalthakians. We fear no enemy."


    "I am Garacel. And fear is consumed with itself at my name," said Garacel, rising to meet his gaze.


    For a moment, they held the gaze. Sahshir felt Garacel''s will on him as the men stood transfixed. Finally, Sahshir decided the contest served no purpose and sheathed his sword. "We shall see. We must send Baj to reach Marius and tell him to draw out negotiations.


    "If Narcissa can return Nagos, the battle shall turn against Kaba rapidly.


    "Tomorrow''s raid awaits."

 Chapter Twenty-Seven: Dark Future

    Nagos, as he turned out, was a very different person away from the spotlight.


    Often Narcissa would find him awake at night, looking over maps and routes with sad eyes. Other times he would write orders or develop plans for this and that. But he was his old self when he was near any of his men.


    It was... concerning. Narcissa wondered if Nagos had a true self at all or if he was like a mirror. One that only showed you what you wanted to see. And that brought up questions.


    Did Nagos care about his nation or his friends? Or was it an act? Narcissa had always known that Sahshir was not... empathetic. He did not care about people so much as act as one would if they cared. Was Nagos the same?


    Alike, yet different.


    Narcissa had little to say in these meetings. Usually, she asked questions and kept her gaze open. Yin was a very competent officer, but Nagos seemed better than he pretended. Or perhaps he was learning from Yin, and she saw the end result.


    "If I''ve guessed correctly," said Nagos one day in his office, "Aridius will want to marry Octavus'' mother. What was her name? The arrogant, proud, beautiful lady. That''ll let him stake himself as Emperor.


    "And if not him, someone else will want to do it. So marrying her will give them a sort of legitimacy." He finished writing a sheet of paper and sealed it before walking out of the cabin to hand it to a messenger bird. "That''s why, if she hasn''t already left, I''ll surely have her detained.


    "It''ll give me bargaining power." Was Nagos planning to try becoming Emperor? That seemed like something other than something he could accomplish.


    "Won''t she have left as soon as she heard of her son''s death?" asked Narcissa. Despite herself, she felt at least a bit of sympathy toward the woman. Yes, she was arrogant and insufferable, but she''d lost her only son. And now people view her as a chess piece on a board, not a human.


    Then again, judging her as a human might be doing her no favors.


    "I ordered that she be kept completely out of the loop once Aridius left. So I doubt it," said Nagos after a moment. "Chaminus has been telling her what she wants to hear for months. Her personal servants were easy to corrupt; they all hate her."


    "So what are you going to do?" asked Narcissa. She was curious to know if she liked this side of Nagos right now.


    Nagos shifted in his seat, falling into silence momentarily as his eyes narrowed. The moment stretched into eternity until Narcissa thought he''d fallen into a trance. Then, finally, he looked up. "Well, first off, we need to end the war. And we have to do it quickly. The longer this drags out, the more likely Kaba or somebody else will find a way to counter us.


    "So, we''ll take drastic action."


    "What action?" asked Narcissa.


    "Not sure yet," admitted Nagos. "But it probably involves blowing things up. That''s how these things usually end. So, Admiral Yin, if the war continues, how long do you think we''ll last."


    "King Nagos," said Yin with utter conviction. "I can promise you that if we continue as we are, the remnants of a great empire will be destroyed."


    "Elegantly put, as always," said Nagos with a laugh. He sipped his tea as though to soothe nerves. "Do you mean Dinis, Sorn, or Chaminus?"


    "Yes," said Yin flatly. And the look on his face was grim.


    "Fair enough, the Calishans win, I get it," said Nagos, sipping his tea again. "No wonder Sahshir was so deadset on starting this fight. He''s pretty smart. Sorn will win, eventually, but at a massive cost. They''ll start pillaging Dinis in retribution, and Chaminus will probably be destroyed.


    "All our people will be enslaved or killed; Kaba will rip up our sacred statues and send them back to Sorn.


    "They''ll be put in some hall or something where he shows guests. Maybe get patted on the back for being so cultured.


    "Then Calisha won by doing nothing," He paused and smiled. "Fortunately, I have countermeasures in place. That''s why I sent letters to Ruscow."


    "Ruscow?" asked Narcissa. "Why would you send letters to the capital of Calisha? They''re not even involved in the war. Sahshir is acting on his own."


    "I''m asking them to mediate an end to the conflict," said Nagos. "If Baltoth intercedes to end this, we might get out alive. And if we can sell the Empress Mother to whoever stands up as the next Emperor...


    "We may actually get out, alright."


    "We must consider what to do if the war continues," said Yin, leaning back in his seat. "One must always seek the best outcome and prepare for the absolute worst."


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    "Then..." Nagos paused. "What do you recommend, Yin?"


    "Given the stakes of what will happen if we lose, escalation may be in order," said Yin. "We might kill so many Sornians that the soldiers stab their officers and riot. Sometimes that happens if the upper classes are out of touch enough."


    "No, no, if we do that, we''ll be hated," said Nagos. "The next war will come, and they''ll wipe us out then. They''ll recover a lot faster than Dinis will.


    "That''s why I''ve been trying to save so many sailors when I sink the ships. It means they''ll talk about my mercy and such and spread the word about my victories. So I''m trying to appeal to the best in people."


    "Perhaps," said Yin, "but our enemies are by nature the worst people in Sorn. Kaba and his ilk do not care about morality, profit, or domination. Beauty and good are inconveniences to them or, at best, tools by which they may manipulate the masses.


    "People they regard as sheep to be led to the slaughter."


    "How do you know that?" asked Narcissa. "Have you met him?"


    "The measure of a man is in what he does," said Yin. "We have met him wherever his machinations extend. I need not listen to his sneering to know he holds life in contempt. His actions tell us that much."


    "Yes, I know," said Nagos. "But if we weaken Kaba enough, the more reasonable noble classes may come to power. Then, they might be willing to come to an agreement."


    "They will be under pressure from the common people," said Yin. "The merchants of Sorn justify their brutality by appealing to the love of country. Therefore, every victory we win will be regarded as an insult to the honor of Sorn, regardless of context.


    "Even if it is more profitable for them to cut their losses, they will be obligated to keep fighting you. Or the masses they hold in contempt will riot."


    "Then we''ll break the masses!" snapped Nagos. "We''ll relieve Sahshir and free Macshore.


    "If they don''t make a deal with us before then..." He looked down at the table. "We''ll take the fleet to the capital of Sorn, Suvera. It''s situated between the sea and their silver mines.


    "They''ll have to engage us then. We''ll sink every fleet they throw at us once we''re there..."


    Then he leaned against the deck and stared out over it. "We''ll shell the Golden City into dust. Then we''ll go along the shore and blast every fishing village and coastal town."


    Yin hesitated. "King Nagos, such an action would kill thousands. Tens of thousands, and without fishing villages, even more would starve. It could..."


    "Destroy Sorn completely. I know. If we lose, our entire culture, our people, all of it will be destroyed for the sake of money," said Nagos. "I don''t want to escalate to the level of Sorn. But if it becomes them or us...


    "I am willing to utterly and completely annihilate their nation if it means saving my own." Then suddenly, Nagos shuddered and fell back from his seat onto the ground, shaking as if struck. Narcissa rose up and ran to his side, kneeling. "Nagos!"


    Nagos went still before rising. "Just fine; I''m being what people need me to be," said Nagos. Then he moved over to the window and looked down toward the sea. "I swear I saw a light down there."


    "Light?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes," said Nagos. "Have I ever told you how I met the Fish King?"


    "No," said Narcissa, "you haven''t."


    "Serna and I were trying our hand at fishing," said Nagos. "And my nets caught something. I tried to pull it out, but I was dragged down instead. I was pulled down into the depths, and yet I could breathe.


    "I could see nothing, feel nothing, hear nothing.


    "Then I saw a faint green light, and I saw what I thought was the face of a cliff made from shining stone. It was perfectly smooth, and yet it hurt the eyes to gaze at it.


    "Then it blinked.


    "Looking around, I saw Him.


    "The Fish King."


    "You mean his avatar," said Narcissa.


    "No I mean Him," said Nagos. "The Fish King is not like other gods. He poured all he was into a physical body. It rests at the very depths of the sea, sleeping. The head is like that of a squid upon a body like a man''s. He has wings like those of a dragon, but no dragon has ever had such a span.


    "When you gaze at him, you can never really know if what you''re looking at is that color or if it''s just a trick of the light. When he shifts within his slumber, tsunamis tear the shore. His gaze extends into all things, into the mind of every creature that has ever feared the unknown. We know him, and yet we desperately try not to.


    "We exist in a perpetual denial of his rising. Denial of our own nature.


    "He was ancient when the first world had not been formed. So all our lives and existence are insignificant. All that our races have been is but the merest flicker of the imagination in his mind. We are gone and forgotten in an instant. Less significant than a vial of water splashed into the ocean.


    "And one day, he will awaken."


    Narcissa blinked in surprise. As Nagos spoke, she saw no sign of him in his face. It was as if he had been snatched away. "...Is there a plan to kill him when that happens?"


    "...I suppose we could trick him and Smyngoth into getting into a fight," said Nagos. "I hear he''s due to awaken and end the world. Maybe they''ll kill each other."


    They didn''t speak much after that.


    Soon Nagos'' fleet neared Macshore and came within sight of the island. It looked a lot worse than before; the houses and buildings had begun ragged or burned. Those which hadn''t were being fortified and had troops near them. As they sailed forward and sought to lure them away, the Sornian fleet did not budge. Narcissa watched time after time as Nagos sought to bait them.


    He feigned a retreat, and they refused it. So he advanced, and they withdrew before him as others came around. Nagos had to draw back then to avoid being encircled. But the Sornians did not pursue him once he escaped.


    The day was spent like this, miserable beneath the beating sun.


    Narcissa looked at the town where she''d set out from, noticing the banner. She''d received news of what had happened here from Garacel. They had to turn this conflict around somehow. But nothing came of things but a stalemate.


    Day after day, the ships danced. More Sornian vessels arrived from elsewhere. Only to end up simply reinforcing existing lines. As the week continued, Nagos and Admiral Yin outplayed every effort to encircle them.


    Supplies were no issue, of course. Nagos had stopped to resupply before coming here.


    "We''re going to be here for a while, aren''t we?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes," said Yin, "but we''re also tying up a large part of the Sornian Fleet, leaving our allies free rein to raid. And the longer this lasts, the more likely Baltoth will intercede. So if we can drag things out, this will only go badly for our enemy."


    "Well," said Nagos, "that shouldn''t be too hard.


    "Anyone wants to play chess?"


    "Sure, why not," said Narcissa.


    This was going to be a long wait, wasn''t it?


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 Chapter Twenty-Eight: Flesh and Spirit

    Baj slipped into the outpost, looking strained from his quest.


    Garacel greeted him while Sahshir polished his armor. Looking up, he saw the man bow before Garacel. Around him, soldiers looked up in resignation. The war had been going badly; lately, another attempt at a raid had been foiled. Little by little, the water was being filled in.Not that Garacel had ever ceased to be confident.


    "What news?" asked Garacel.


    "King Nagos has blockaded the port," said Baj. "Even now, they are skirmishing. As a result, Kaba has been unable to bring in or send out more ships or supplies."


    "I see," said Garacel. "Unfortunately, the news elsewhere is not as good."


    "Our raids have become less successful. However, it is only a matter of time before Kaba finds our fortifications," mused Sahshir. "Or worse still, our secret passages.


    "Then let him," said Aresif, who had recently returned to Sahshir''s side.


    "Let him?" asked Garacel, looking at the old man.


    "Lead him directly to our defenses. Give him something to attack," said Aresif with a shrug. "Let us die gloriously in battle rather than huddled like slaves."


    "As fine a plan as any. Laevian''s spells shall not last forever," mused Garacel, though he did not seem keen on doing it.


    "Kaba must be under pressure as well, surely," said Sahshir, moving on to another piece.


    "By now, he has probably already requested aid from the other Sornian Fleets." mused Garacel. "Either they''ll attack something Nagos has to defend, or they''ll engage him. In the latter''s case, his advantage relies on mobility, and now they know where he''ll be."


    "In the case of the former, they will head to Chaminus," guessed Sahshir. "Sen Kaba hates Nagos. And I doubt any other Sornian nobles are more fond of him."


    "The hatred is entirely mutual, I assure you." said Garacel, "Chaminus was beginning to establish a new empire long ago. That was before the people who are now known as Sornians wrecked it.


    "I believe it was under Anoa VII, if I''m not mistaken. They seized all kinds of territory. The grudge between the two peoples has been passed down through generations. Though Nagos hides his hatred behind a smile." How would he know? He''d never met the man.


    Then again, Garacel was a god.


    "They''ll have to engage the Dinis fleet to do that," said Baj. "They may have scaled back for now. But Chaminus stands between Sorn and an avenue to strike Dinis directly. They won''t give it up without a fight if they aren''t fools."


    "It may be a less daunting task than fighting Nagos at this stage," said Sahshir. He remembered the letters he''d received over the past few weeks. "Marius told me he''s received word that negotiations for a truce are being arranged as we speak."


    "What of ammunition?" asked Aresif. "Nagos is sure to run low sooner or later."


    "The details are now irrelevant," said Sahshir. "Since we have no power to influence the battle at sea, our concern must be on what we can affect. And how Nagos'' blockade has changed our circumstances."


    "The point that you all agree on is that Nagos'' blockade is temporary," said Garacel. "It may cause severe damage, but it will not win us this war.


    "Fortunately, Kaba may not know that."


    "He assumes his blockade will be long-term. At the moment, he has ample supplies. But if things are dragged out, food will run short."


    "How do you know this?" asked Sahshir.


    "I hold dominion over all hatred or most of it," said Garacel. "And Kaba holds all things that breathe in contempt, save perhaps his brother. So it is only natural that his thoughts would be laid bare to me."


    "And why are we losing then?" asked Sahshir.


    "If we had crushed Kaba immediately, he''d have gotten back to Sorn with a bloody nose. Nothing would have changed," said Garacel. "By forcing him into a prolonged campaign, I have forced Sorn to expend much treasure. All on a now worthless island.


    "Worthless in their mind, at any rate."


    "Get to the point," said Sahshir.


    "Sorn has wasted immense amounts of treasure on what was supposed to be an easy land grab," said Garacel. "And Nagos, at my suggestion, has asked Calisha to intercede. With Dinis and Sorn battered, neither one will be in a hurry to fight Calisha.


    "Baltoth will be able to arrange a favorable truce that benefits him. He will arrange for McShore to become a neutral buffer zone. As a result, my people will be able to rule themselves, and that is to my benefit."


    "And if they do not play along?" asked Sahshir.


    "Then I expect there will be a great, bloody war. One that will raise hatred to an unprecedented level" said Garacel. "Harlenor will then become involved to prevent Sorn from losing. That would naturally draw Calisha in on the side of Dinis, given negotiations. So Calisha will be weakened, as will Dinis and Sorn, and that benefits me. And I may raise the powers of my subjects on this and other islands to fight the tyrants seeking to destroy them.


    "The window of time where events did not play into my hands disappeared about forty years ago, honestly."


    Sahshir looked at Garacel hard for a moment. He wondered, between him and Seth Kaba, which of the two was more contemptible. The answer would probably be Kaba, but at the same time, it was hardly relevant.


    The pain had been getting worse. Finally, his mind turned to the plan he''d devised, and he considered the chances of success. If things went on like this, Garacel might win, but if he did, he''d exterminate the populace of slaveholders.


    "This is futile," said Sahshir, beginning to don his armor.


    "And why is that?" asked Garacel.


    "Aresif," said Sahshir, "take command of the Silent Guard. I must go alone for what comes next. March out and gaze upon the armies of Kaba from hiding. And send word to Marius that a chance for victory shall come soon."


    "I don''t understand," said Aresif.


    "All things are as Baltoth wills them," said Sahshir. "If victory is to be ours, he shall grant it. If defeat serves better his purposes, then we shall be defeated.


    "Why speak of attack and defense when triumph and tragedy are in both his hands?"


    "Your devotion does you credit," said Garacel, voice sarcastic. "Very well, we shall wait for Baltoth to make his choice. Now, what will we do while we wait for Baltoth?


    "Surely, he will not mind if we try our best to fix our own problems. If only to save him the work."


    Sahshir finished putting on his armor and donned his mask. Then he looked to Garacel. "Do not mock faith, Garacel. By it alone have we survived."


    "The question remains," replied Garacel.


    "It is written: The cornered serpent is the deadliest prey," said Sahshir. "We shall make ourselves the serpent."


    And then he turned and walked away.


    "Where are you going?" asked Baj.


    "To confront my enemy," said Sahshir, halting and glancing back. "If I''m going to die, I''d rather do it standing."


    "Shouldn''t you-" began Garacel.


    "Choke on your speeches, Garacel," replied Sahshir as he marched out.


    Sahshir would be dead if anything went wrong, as would likely many others. But death was inevitable; what did it matter if it came a year early? The half-formed plan he''d had was coming to fruition.


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    When he emerged into the darkness, he saw the Moon Spirit had shown its full face tonight, a good omen. The stars sparkled brightly between the trees. Though the land howled with the defilement of Sornian engineers. Sahshir could sense power growing within.


    It was gathered fully but... waiting.


    Waiting for what?


    Sahshir wasn''t exactly sure what he was doing here.


    His plan, if it was indeed that, had been pieced together from a general series of observations. Kaba was looking for an excuse to destroy Garacel easily; Kaba had been advised to talk with Sahshir. That meant he''d be willing to negotiate.


    And when he did, Sahshir could kill him. Once he was dead, the prime mover behind this expedition would be gone. A settlement might be reached between Marius and Romilis. The idea of killing a man in parley was distressing to Sahshir. From a certain perspective, Kaba didn''t have the right of parley applying to him. One who had no honor could scarcely expect to be treated with honor. But surely, such thinking would lead to a decay in moral spirit if applied too generously.


    When did it stop?


    When everyone was dead, probably.


    Then again, if Sahshir was lucky, Kaba would violate parley to show dominance. The man seemed to enjoy flaunting rules to feel powerful, so it wasn''t inconceivable. If he committed the first violation, Sahshir could kill him without guilt.


    But what if Kaba behaved with honor? Should Sahshir seek to negotiate with him? Kaba had easily violated his agreement with Garacel, but that had been done with slaves. He had some legal standing in it, and from his perspective, Garacel was of no threat. Would Kaba be so free to violate an agreement with a King, let alone a King of Calisha?


    Sahshir doubted he would be so stupid. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    There is the camp. The city rose distantly behind it, still standing. Good.


    Sahshir came to the edge of the trees and gazed at the filled-in swamp and hewn trees. There were numerous torches lit at the perimeter. And strange machines with a heavy guards. Then there was the camp beyond, where the sounds of merriment were underway.


    Why celebrate?


    Then Sahshir looked at the fields of sand. Among them were the bodies of many slaves. Their corpses had been used as part of the fill. Looking down at them, he remembered all those brave men who had died against the Sornian lines. And all those drafted into the task.


    His gaze went to several heads on pikes, having been burned to almost skulls.


    Was he to negotiate with monsters such as these? Even if he could trust them to abide by his terms, the concept of speaking to one horrified him. Baltoth practices crucifixions and other horrific torments. But only to those who committed grave crimes. And it was a matter of historical record that the penalties had become less harsh.


    Sahshir saw three ways this could go down if he could meet with Kaba.


    He could kill Kaba at once and violate parley, albeit to one with no right to its protection. He could be betrayed and try to kill Kaba afterward.


    Or he could make a deal in good faith.


    Sahshir almost desired to rush forward with a battle cry and kill as many as possible. Certainly, such an end would be glorious, but something held him back. Looking down at the Blade of Order, he saw his masked reflection. Within it, he found his resolve.


    Sahshir would allow Kaba to end this peacefully, but not for him. Rather he would offer him an out for the sake of those who would die if Garacel gained a total victory. Romilis and those who served him had warped minds. But they were not wicked as Kaba was, merely a product of the society they dwelled in.


    Sheathing his sword, he walked forward with his hands raised. As he entered the torchlight, guards arose and stepped around him, spears readied.


    "Hold where you are!" said a man. "Are you here to surrender, slave?"


    "I am King Abdul Sahshir of Eastern Kalthak," replied Sahshir simply. "I am here to negotiate with Seth Kaba. Step aside, or you will die in turn."


    "You..." said the man. "You''re that Prince of Kalthak that has been fighting us." There was murder in his eyes.


    "I am a messenger under parley, here to speak with Kaba on behalf of my people," said Sahshir. "Grant me an audience, or deny it to me. To harm me is to strike against the rules of all the gods.


    "Know this before you act."


    The man looked at his sword and stepped back at a pace. "...Give us your sword, and we will take you to Kaba."


    Sahshir looked at the blade. He should have known he would never be allowed in Kaba''s presence without a blade. "I am a King and entitled to bear this when meeting with one of my peers."


    "I don''t care who you think you are!" snarled the guard. "If you animals want to beg for mercy, you can do it unarmed!"


    "Well then," said Sahshir, "you can explain to Kaba that King Sahshir came to him with a means of gaining victory. And you sent it away before ever he even knew of it."


    One of them moved suddenly and struck Sahshir from behind. He fell forward, and they were on him, drawing out the Sword of Order as they did. The pain returned in force, and Sahshir hardly kept from howling in agony. His body was on fire as he struggled to stand, only to be grabbed on every limb. He felt his entire form falling to pieces as chains clapped on him.


    Had he forgotten the pain?


    Or was he truly that far gone? Pulled to his knees, the guard struck him across the face and raised the sword. "Stupid slave, you''ll get your meeting as a prisoner of war."


    Sahshir said nothing, merely looking at this thing masquerading as a human being. Was it worth saying anything to him?


    "What do you suppose is beneath the mask," asked a man.


    "Might as well see..." said a man, drawing off the mask.


    They recoiled in horror around him at the sight of Sahshir''s face. He used this chance to test the chains on his limbs. They were quite tight and moved to account for his movements, trapping him in place.


    "That..." said the leader of these animals. "Put the mask back on. Now."


    "The Gods have seen your actions and will judge you by them," said Sahshir.


    "Quiet, slave!" said the man, striking him again.


    It was a petty agony, hardly noticeable, and Sahshir barely moved. He said nothing, for there was nothing to say. They led him through the camp. Sahshir noticed men gambling, drinking, and partaking of whores. But there were always sober men on guard.


    At last, they came to Kaba''s drab tent, plain gray tent. Within was Kaba, writing at a desk with a black quill. He looked up and narrowed his eyes. "What is it? I told you not to disturb me under any circumstances?"


    The guard froze at his voice. "I''m sorry, Lord Kaba. But we''ve captured a prisoner, the Prince of Kalthak. We found him trying to sneak into the camp."


    "He claimed he was here to negotiate," said another.


    The guard moved forward. "He bore this."


    The Sword of Order was set down on Kaba''s desk, and he drew the blade up. For the first time since Sahshir had seen him, Kaba looked fascinated. He held the blade experimentally and smiled at the reflective weapon.


    He looked a bit like Nagos.


    Then the moment passed. "Fine then, bring him in."


    Sahshir was thrust in, and the chains were not removed. "You have a black means of welcoming diplomats."


    "Diplomats?" asked Kaba flatly. "Why should I be concerned with a minor chieftain? You''re leading an army consisting of my property.


    "Your race will always be a third-rate set of sentients. So again, why should I welcome you."


    Sahshir smiled. "Because Nagos is going to reduce your entire fleet to driftwood."


    Kaba scoffed. "Hardly.


    "He''ll have to return to port for supplies, and we''ve conquered other ports. I already have my subordinates working to find countermeasures. Dinis'' will surrender soon enough, and the legions will fall in line.


    "Sooner or later, we''ll crush Nagos and his Fish King worshipping barbarians.


    "The most he''ll accomplish is an inconvenience."


    Fish King worshippers? Why would Kaba say that? Nagos had not raised any temples in Chaminus to the Fish King Sahshir had seen. Then again, he had not been there long, so he might have missed them.


    "My concern is the real war, not some remnant of a worthless and indolent society of eunuchs," said Kaba.


    Once, Sahshir might have said the same words about Namina and its descendants. But seeing himself reflected in this decayed and stinking corpse of a spirit was odd. Sahshir, as he gazed, that Kaba and those around him no longer saw men.


    He saw spirits.


    And they were as corpses, rotting away beneath their untreated diseases of the spirit. Kaba himself was truly hideous to gaze upon. As Sahshir looked down at his own hand, he saw his own hand, but complete. It had afflictions and was not as strong as possible, but it was healing. "And how many of your men will be killed in this war? So many of them could be saved if you had simply abided by your word."


    A spark of life came into Kaba''s rotting body. "Maybe." There was regret in his tone. For all his men''s lives meant nothing to him; he did not waste them or mistreat them. "But the long-term profits would be less. This island belongs to House Kaba, and those who do not toe the line have no place on it."


    "What do you want?" asked Sahshir, perplexed at this dying thing before him.


    "What?" said Kaba.


    "What are you seeking to accomplish through all this?" asked Sahshir. "Riches? You are already rich; a thousand men could not spend your income in a lifetime. Power? Surely there are better ways of getting it than this."


    "Is the survival of all living creatures in this world of Erian motivation enough?" asked Kaba.


    "How is preying on the natives of these islands going to save anyone?" asked Sahshir.


    "Their bloodlines are vulnerable to the Fish King''s will," said Kaba. "When he arises, it is prophesied that he will destroy the world. Even now, his will is working through all things. Or did you think Chaminus'' sudden bout of military competence came from nowhere?


    "He whispers in the minds of all those in this place. When he rises from the sea, they will become his servants.


    "Some call this event inevitable.


    "I have no intention of letting it happen, even if it never happens in my lifetime. Already I have financed studies that may allow us to slay the Fish King, eventually. For now, I intend to ensure that when he does wake up, he''ll have to do everything himself. So, when I conquer an island, I use its population to staff plantations that will kill most of them. This, in turn, gives me the cause of war to continue my campaign. I receive profits to channel into research, and my enemy is weakened.


    "It should more than sufficiently justify my actions. If no one is alive, morality is a useless thing."


    Sahshir looked at his chains and considered Kaba''s reasoning. For a moment, he contemplated it, trying to find some value in it. "I have never heard anyone speak more the part of a fool, Kaba. What if everyone thought and acted as you did? Committed grave atrocities, broke their oaths, and destroyed civilizations. All in pursuit of survival alone. As if survival was the greatest good and death the worst evil.


    "Such a world is not one I would defend. In that final war, I should take the part of the Fish King to end creation."


    It sounded like an excuse for Sahshir. Something Kaba could tell himself needed to happen so that he didn''t have to think about what he was doing now. If the world was going to end, let it be the twilight of a glorious civilization of warriors in a final epic battle. Not a slow and miserable decay into nothingness. All in pursuit of survival at the cost of everything else.


    Such a death would not be worthy at all.


    Kaba eyed him, eyes contemplative. "I believe you have an offer for me."


    Sahshir supposed there was no point in continuing this discussion. Yet as he looked at his arms, he found that the spirit seemed stronger still. "The leader of the slaves is named Garacel, and he is an old enemy of mine. He is mighty and seeks to destroy Calisha."


    "So you want to deliver him into my hands," said Kaba.


    "No," said Sahshir. "I want you to give the slaves leave to depart this land and go to Kalthak. I will resettle them, and you will be free to shape this land however you want. Then, I can influence Nagos and the Dinis Emperor to settle with you." It was, in all honesty, the only thing he could do.


    Neither Garacel nor Kaba were worth serving. Garacel was the less monstrous, but both would lead this island to utter ruin. So all Sahshir could do was save who he could.


    "Why should I make parley with you?" asked Kaba. "I have an elite army. All I need to do is fill in this swamp, and you will be forced into a confrontation. I''ve had the better of you in every match."


    "And the spirits of the land?" asked Sahshir. "They will judge you. They are mustering as we speak. If you listen, you will hear them."


    Kaba''s lip curled into a snarl. "The spirits can thank me for leaving them with some of their influence. I don''t have time to build shrines for fairies. I''ve made them cooperate on every other island I''ve taken. It will be the same here.


    "Anoa the Bright had refined techniques." He paused. "That said, you may be of use to me. Deliver Garacel''s head to me, and I will allow the Kalthakians to leave. I will keep this sword with me to ensure your cooperation."


    Sahshir''s first thought was that Kaba would not give the sword back. His next was that he was not going to do what he asked. And his third was questioning how Kaba could think he''d accept such terms. Perhaps this was merely an act of pride.


    Sahshir had rejected Kaba''s ideology, so perhaps he wanted to establish dominance. Sahshir sighed, very calm, as he looked at the hand with fewer fingers. "...What possible reason could I have to believe you will uphold your end of such a bargain?"


    "Do you have an alternative?" asked Kaba.


    "Do I?" asked Sahshir with a laugh. "It is written in the texts of Baltoth: Better to cut off your own hand, then willingly put it in chains."


    And then he ripped his three-fingered hand off. It was easy. As he did, his body blazed with light and pain...


    The pain was gone. The limb he had cast off burned away into ashes as he whirled around and smashed his elbow into the facemask of a guard. The blow bent metal and crushed his skull as Kaba began to flinch. Sahshir dropped low, catching himself on his good arm. He brought around his legs in a spinning kick at the other guard. Again, metal sparked and shattered as bones were crushed and thrown around.


    Kaba finished flinching.


    Pushing himself up to stand on one hand, Sahshir vaulted toward the Sword of Order. As he did, Kaba began to reach for the blade. However, Sahshir snatched the blade up and put it to Kaba''s throat as his fingers closed.


    "I''m a firm believer in those texts," said Sahshir.


    "... We''re in parley," said Kaba.


    "I hadn''t noticed," said Sahshir before hitting him over the head.


    As Kaba fell unconscious, Sahshir threw him over one shoulder, keeping him in place with the stump. Then, turning, he rushed to the tent. The guards came in and quickly lost their heads. More rushed at him, but he moved and weaved automatically, cutting down all around him. Men came from all around him, snatching up weapons.


    Spears were cut, hearts were pierced, and dozens of bodies were around him in moments. More joined with every second. Now the Sornians surrounded him, terrified to press forward. Archers bent their bows but were called off for fear of hitting their leader.


    And then there was a groaning, a terrible groaning, and a war cry. No, matter war cries, garbled by trees.


    The woods themselves emerged en masse from the swamps. They smashed into the camp with roots and limbs, crushing men to death. Birds and beasts of every kind also came, tearing out throats and pecking out eyes.


    "FOR DINIS! FOR EMPEROR ARIDIUS!" came Marius'' call.


    And his men rushed from the darkness as Garacel and his slaves rushed to war. Marius drew out the Blade of Chaos and tossed it through the air. It spun rapidly and landed in Garacel''s hand as he landed among the enemy and slaughtered them by the dozens.


    The battle turned against them almost as soon as it had begun; the Sornians broke and fled. Many were cut down as they ran, but a few were saved by the arrival of Romilis and his militia. Satisfied that some would live, Sahshir cast down Kaba, who had come too. Then, seeing Sahshir, he staggered back, staring at the hand. "How..."


    "The flesh is nothing. The soul is all there is," said Sahshir. Then he plunged forward with the blade. Kaba cried, but the sword plunged past his cheek, leaving a deep scar as the blade drove deep. "You aren''t worthy of a warrior''s death."


    Then he sat down and began to meditate.


    If Kaba was stupid enough to try anything, Sahshir would count it as honorable suicide.

 The Web of Iron

    Well, that is Wages of Sin wrapped up. I hope you enjoyed it; I had to do more editing on this one. My Wattpad account has effectively become a first draft of sorts. Continuity has been shaped up as it goes from one platform to another, grammar is touched up, etc.


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    Next, we will return to William''s storyline in the Web of Iron. We''ll introduce some new villains in this one and expand on the northern part of Erian. We''ll also get a chance to see William come into his own as a hero more.


    And also see the return of an old nemesis... S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Prologue: A Binding Agreement

    The elves were now all bundled up in silk. The cocoons Rioletta had woven clung to their every delicious male and female curve. Oh, how they had struggled and wriggled at first as their minds were drawn into nightmares. Nightmares beyond comprehension. The taste of their suffering was positively delicious. And the feel of them around the hips was beautiful.


    "Ah, such a wonderful batch we''ve captured today," said Rioletta to her companion. "Wouldn''t you say, Black Star?" His suffering was delicious as well. "I love it most when they refuse to give up. Just keep struggling. The way the silk clings to every feature and the look of horror on their faces is so wonderful...


    "Still, a Goddess such as myself needs a worthy consort."


    Black Star did not respond. He has yet to respond. Yet his suffering was audible on a spiritual plane. Then Rioletta sensed something and looked up to see a pale light appearing. Into the darkened hall stepped a figure she knew from her studies.


    "Melchious darling!" she cried in joy. "It has been ever so long." He''d chosen his human form this time. Tall with long blonde hair and red robes. Like that positively delicious William she faced before, but too old in spirit for her tastes. Not enough hope to crush.


    "Not nearly long enough," said Melchious. "Tell me, Rioletta, how would you like to rule Seathorius?"


    Rule Seathorius? What a charming idea. "Well, that does sound nice. Yet last I heard, my dear colleague was the ruler there. They call her by that adorable nickname, Arraxia, was it? Though it was a terrible thing that happened to you, I expect either you or her will kill the other.


    "What, pray tell, do you desire in return?"


    Melchious smiled. It was an unpleasant smile for her to look at, and she was a demon.


    "Seathorius is lost to me. And at the moment, your former colleague is working hard trying to stamp out my worship. If you were to take control, I would give you the rulership of that land. And all I would ask in return is that you continue the traditions of my worship."


    "Out how mighty and generous you are, Master Melchious," said Rioletta. She knew how much her false subservience annoyed him. "Tell me, how may I achieve this great end of which you speak?"


    To her disappointment, he did not react. "You must capture the Dreamer Elf, Kiyora Yagos. Then you must do as I say..." S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


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 Chapter One: Kiyoras Nemesis

    It was rare to come face to face with one''s life''s great nemesis. There he stood at the head of the class. Ordinary, with nothing remarkable about him. Maybe it was her history with this dark-haired boy she''d never met. But Kiyora Yagos hated him at once. Especially the way her heart pounded as she looked at him.


    "My name is Tenius Dreamer," he said in a friendly tone. "I''m going to be going to school here at Actovosh High. I''m glad to meet you all, and I hope we all have a good year."


    "Great, just what we needed," muttered Laurus, who looked like he wanted a cigarette.


    "I think he looks nice, Laurus," said Reya.


    "If by nice you mean spineless, then yeah, sure," said Laurus.


    "That''s enough gossip, everyone," said Ms. Everard. "Tenius, why don''t you take your seat over there by Kiyora."


    Wait seriously? Was he going to sit next to her? Her irritation was turned up to bewilderment. Worse still were the jealous blushes of several girls. What was going on here? As far as she could tell, Tenius was an utterly bland individual. No strong characteristics or qualities save one¡ªthe ability to get things handed to him on a silver platter.


    Granted, Kiyora had not met or talked with him before now. But, then again, she was one of the things which was almost handed to him on said platter. So she liked to think she knew more than most.


    The class passed that day with Tenius heedless of her glares. Several times during free periods, he was approached by girls. All of them showed signs of being smitten. Why? He''d only just got here?


    "Kiyora, are you alright?" asked Gisora at lunch. "You''ve been out of it ever since Tenius arrived."


    "Yeah, I''m fine. Just distracted is all," said Kiyora. "What is he doing here?"


    "How should I know?" asked Laurus. "Maybe they''re hoping you''ll fall in love."


    "Shut up Laurus," said Kiyora. "I told you I fixed that." However, she wouldn''t put it past Alchara to try it. Technically she''d only agreed not to force Kiyora into marriage. So if Kiyora married Tenius of her own free will, she''d get both.


    William had given up the Goldenwood Harp for Kiyora. Meanwhile, the bitch Alchara was already using loopholes.


    "Right, of course. You negotiated with Alchara in your dreams," said Laurus. "And I''m the God-Emperor Ictargo."


    "We both survived an eldritch horror taking control of the entire city a few months ago," said Kiyora. "Give me the benefit of the doubt here. And I did get the engagement canceled, didn''t I? So what''s it matter how I did it?"


    "I know, I know, I''m just screwing with you," said Laurus.


    Then Gisora looked up. "Hey, look, Tenius is getting mobbed already."


    Sure enough, he was being approached by yet more girls. These were a lot more forward about their intentions than the others. One of them was even hanging off of him like a cloak. Tenius looked somewhat awkward but otherwise was not treating this as anything unusual.


    "Why?" asked Kiyora. "What''s to like about him?"


    "He doesn''t look very happy," mused Reya. "Shouldn''t we do something?"


    "Why?" asked Gisora. "So, we have to put up with him at our table?"


    "Excellent point," said Laurus. "Let''s do nothing." He drew out a cigarette and a lighter. Gisora reached out and snatched both out of his hands.


    "Hey!" said Gisora. "You aren''t supposed to be smoking in here."


    "It''s my body. I''ll do what I want," said Laurus.


    "Not here, you won''t," said Gisora.


    Laurus smiled. It was the smile he got when he intended to pay someone back for a perceived slight. "You know, I think Reya is right. I think I should go over there. He looks uncomfortable."


    "Oh yes, I''m sure he is," said Kiyora. "But if he''s uncomfortable being mobbed by two girls, a third one won''t improve things."


    Laurus laughed at that. This attracted several looks. He ignored them and walked away from the table toward Tenius.


    He reached the ever-growing mob of girls. He was saying something, but Kiyora couldn''t hear him. They watched as the girls shrank away from him.


    "What''s he doing?" asked Reya.


    "Probably talking about horror movies," said Kiyora. "Laurus knows how to make people uncomfortable."


    "He isn''t bringing him over here, is he?" asked Gisora.


    Laurus started bringing Tenius over to them.


    "Damn him," hissed Gisora.


    Tenius reached them, looking a bit awkward. "Hey, uh, do you guys mind if I sit here?"


    "Oh no, we don''t mind, right, Kiyora," said Laurus.


    "No," hissed Kiyora. "Not at all."


    "Anyway, I was just telling Tenius about what happened a couple of months ago," said Laurus.


    "Is he just messing with me?" asked Tenius.


    "That depends on what he told you," said Gisora.


    "Well, he told me that an eldritch horror mind-controlled everyone," said Tenius. "Is he joking?"


    "His name was Laughing Wraith, and no, he is not," said Kiyora.


    "You''d think someone would have said something before now, is all," said Tenius.


    "Oh, they pulled all the records and news stories," said Laurus. "And people have started to forget. This kind of thing happens. Some otherworldly being invades. Everyone gets all worked up, then it gets stopped, and everyone starts failing.


    "The trick is to write it all down to remember later."


    "But why would Alchara do that?" asked Tenius. "I mean, wouldn''t it be better if people remembered them."


    "Actually, no," said Reya. "Belief is power. If people don''t know about something, it can''t hurt them as easily. That''s why nobody got killed in Wraith''s rampage. He wasn''t really enough in this world to affect us."


    "Is this some kind of prank?" asked Tenius.


    "Nope," said Laurus. "I got slashed with a sword during it. I can show you the scar if you want."


    "No thanks," said Tenius quickly.


    "Why do you always have to keep bringing things like that up, Laurus?" asked Gisora.


    "I don''t like forgetting about anything," said Laurus. "Even the nasty stuff. My half-sister Remedia keeps a whole shed full of documents of events. They''ve all been scrubbed from the record."


    "Doesn''t the government have a problem with that?" asked Tenius.


    "Well, she''s allowed to do it as long as she doesn''t go around trying to cause a panic," said Laurus. "Hey, if you want, I could show you some documents. You''d be surprised what horrors happen daily out here."


    "No thanks," repeated Tenius.


    What a complete bore.


    "Any new horrors we should know about Laurus?" asked Kiyora. "Recent stuff?"


    "Well, there have been some weird sightings reported in the papers," admitted Laurus. He reached into his pocket. "Supposedly, a mysterious black tree ship is flying around the skies. Several people have seen it overhead. I got a picture of it from the paper before it got nabbed.


    "Here, take a look." He drew out a newspaper and showed it to them.


    Kiyora unrolled the paper and looked over the front page. On it was a massive ship flying over the city of Actovosh. Its roots were long and twisted, and its branches were fighting against each other. It was utterly dark, and there was an unholy look to it. It gave her a shiver looking at it.


    "This could have been photo edited," she said.


    "Nah, and I''ll tell you why," said Laurus. "Because this ship has been seen in Actovosh before. Look here." He drew out several other articles and put them on the table. They showed the black star in port, with pictures being taken of it as the crew entered.


    "Did you steal this from Remedia as well?" asked Gisora, voice disapproving.


    "No, I get to borrow her stuff as long as I bring her any interesting newspapers," said Laurus. "Geeze."


    "New experimental tree ship Black Star going into production." read Kiyora. "Designed to amplify the powers of Dream Sages."


    "Aren''t all tree ships designed to do that?" asked Reya.


    "No, they act as a channel, transforming their will into weaponry," said Tenius. "The Black Star was something new. It was supposed to enhance the powers of the one who wields it."


    Kiyora blinked in surprise. How did he know about this? "So, what happened to it?"


    "I don''t know," said Laurus. "I couldn''t find any info."


    "Five years ago, on its maiden voyage, it disappeared without a trace," said Tenius. "My grandpa was talking about it. There was this huge elf hunt for it, but nobody ever found it."


    "So what world was it going to?" asked Kiyora.


    "A place called Narvan," said Tenius. "Realm of the Dark Elves."


    "I uh," Laurus paused, "I''m not big on foreign countries. Or foreign worlds."


    "We conquered it ten years ago, so our occupation is fairly recent," said Tenius. "See, the Dark Elves worship this Spider Goddess, Rioletta. She was always craving more sacrifices for her webs. They started out hitting independent worlds. Then they got bolder. They started raiding our shipping lines and taking prisoners from our unguarded worlds. You seriously never heard of this?"


    "The government pretty tightly controls information," said Laurus. "We could be waging a full-scale war right now, and I''m not sure we''d know."


    "Well, that explains it," said Tenius, "my grandpa went on all kinds of campaigns. He has some friends in the military. I guess growing up on a farm on a mountaintop doesn''t make you as sheltered as you think, huh?" He rubbed the back of his head and smiled nervously.


    "Yeah, that''s great," said Kiyora. "So, how about we track down this Black Star?"


    "How would we even go about it?" asked Reya.


    "Well, we can bet that if it exists, the government isn''t talking about it," said Laurus. "Gisora, how about you see what you can dig up?"


    "Sure thing," said Gisora.


    "Why would you be able to learn anything?" asked Tenius.


    "My family is royalty, and my mom works in the Department of Bloodlines. She has security clearance," said Gisora. "They''d have records on the Dream Sages who were brought in for this job. Does that article have any info on the crew?"


    "From the looks of things, yes," said Reya.


    "Can I borrow it then, Laurus?" asked Gisora.


    "Sure," said Laurus. "This is a photocopy anyway. Remedia would tan my hide if I brought the real thing to a school lunch table."


    "Yeah, but this thing might be a high enough secret that you can''t find out about it, Gisora," said Kiyora. "We need another lead."


    "What about resting periods?" asked Reya.


    "Huh?" asked Kiyora. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Tree ships don''t need fuel like other races'' ships," said Reya. "Instead, they land and put their roots into fertile soil for a bit. Ideally, in very rich soil that has been specially prepared."


    "There are only a few places like that in Actovosh," said Gisora.


    "Yes, but we''re not just talking about Actovosh," said Tenius. "The Black Star was supposed to be fast at moving between worlds. So it could easily go to any surrounding worlds and land there for a bit before returning here."


    "Not without being detected," said Reya. "If the Black Star is out there, you can bet the government is very interested in what it is doing. Transporting between worlds creates a sort of ripple in reality. It can be traced."


    "So it is somewhere in this world and probably nearby," noted Tenius.


    "How do you know so much about tree ships Reya?" asked Kiyora.


    "I want to be a gardener Kiyora," said Reya. "Tree ships are a kind of plant. Working servicing one is very high paying work."


    "Okay, I''ll look up any cities and towns nearby where they could have touched down," said Gisora. "Spring break is soon, so we can all look for this Black Star together."


    "Right," said Kiyora.


    "Hey, that reminds me, Tenius," said Laurus. "Why are you transferring to this school in the middle of the year?"


    "I, uh, I''d rather not talk about it," said Tenius.


    "Suit yourself," said Kiyora.


    She wasn''t even slightly interested anyway.

 Chapter Two: The Dukes Meeting

    It was a bright but chilly day by the standards of Artarq, which meant it was sweltering. Though the distance was a blur when you looked from the towers, the palace gardens were cooler than most places. It was a place of flowing water and many strange and foreign plants. At the center of this place was a Gazebo, and Father waited for his visitor to arrive.


    William focused on playing his harp. It was not as great as the one he had given up to the goddess Alchara some time ago, but it was still beautiful. Father had had it commissioned of him. Massacre the Chimera seemed to enjoy the music just as much. However, it did not have the same power.


    Then their visitor arrived. He was a satyr, and a tall one at that. He wore a metal mask over his face and was shrouded all in white. He sat down across from Vanion. William played his harp to one side in a chair in the corner. He kept his head down and his hood up.


    "Ah, Karasush," said Father, "I trust the roads were not too troublesome?"


    "Not at all, Duke Vanion," said Karasush. "Though it has been a long time since I had to travel by normal means. Within Fortenex and Kreshlak, I can move freely, but in other worlds, I must walk like anyone else.


    "In truth, I have become a bit out of shape."


    "Would you care for some wine?" asked Father, motioning to several cups which had been laid out and a bottle. "It is a satyr variety, grown by your cousins in the vineyards of Seathorius."


    "Yes, thank you," said Karasush.


    Father motioned to Felix, who emerged from where no one had seen him holding a jug. A sword was at his side. How did he do that? The dark-skinned boy poured the wine.


    Karasush took his. William half expected him to remove his mask. But instead, the mask itself opened near the mouth, revealing jagged teeth and tan skin. He sipped it as Vanion did the same. "Seathorius wine is considered a great delicacy amongst my people," mused Karasush. "How did you know of it?"


    "I didn''t. I am merely experimenting," admitted Father. "The recent peace between the Nakmar and their satyr neighbors is good. It has allowed trade to flourish in places where there was none before. The negotiations are ongoing, but I believe there may be a good market for this wine."


    "We have never been able to produce it," admitted Karasush. "The cold weather of Khasmir means we have to rely on more cold weather vines. They are less sweet and more bitter."


    "No doubt some will prefer them," mused Father, sipping his cup again. "Now, what exactly is it that you wished to speak to me about?"


    "Yes, very recently, a powerful artifact of my god was recovered by your son," said Karasush. "I was hoping that it might be returned to us."


    "Ah, yes, that," said Father. "I wish to, of course; I do not like denying any religion their sacred artifacts. But, unfortunately, the Axe of Fortenex has been infused with an enormous amount of life force. Thanks to the prodigious bloodshed that ensued around its recovery.


    "If someone worthy of it were to wield it, there could be massive destruction. Moreover, with Melchious still out there, it is possible he could steal it. If that happened, he would enact his dark will using the weapon."


    William didn''t believe that Father would give the Axe to Karasush''s hands. Not if the weapon were powerless and Melchious dead. Their status as allies was a convenience. Nothing more. Karasush would have been as happy working for Calisha or Melchious. Who he sided with depended on who had emerged victorious in Khasmir. He remembered the bodies, the burned villages, the carnage. Karasush had wreaked all of it.


    To save his people? Perhaps. Had it been an accident? Perhaps. Could they afford to kill him? No. "Fortenex does not reward failures," said Karasush. "Melchious lost the axe. He would have to redeem himself in the eyes of my god before he was allowed to wield it again. And the demoness you call Arraxia was found unworthy."


    "That does not mean they might not prove worthy later," said Father. "Fortunately, plans are already in motion to ensure Melchious never has the chance to do so. However, you must understand I do not have the authority to give the axe into your hands. The Paladin Order must make that decision. They hold authority over such things."


    "Then perhaps you could speak to them on my behalf?" suggested Karasush.


    "I will, but I promise nothing," said Father. "The reality is that most of the King''s subjects regard you as an enemy who has escaped justice. Giving you the axe now would play into my rival''s hands and make King Andoa look weak.


    "No, you must prove yourself before I can do that."


    "Then the worshippers of Fortenex shall do so," said Karasush. "You merely need to say how."


    "There is," mused Father. "I have been hoping to establish colonies in Khasmir. But, of course, I have no intention of displacing you. Yet, there is room enough with all the territory freed up in the recent war. These would merely be military trading posts¡ªplaces where the excess population of Harlenor would be able to go in search of a new life.


    "Of course, High Chieftain Relg will never cede any of his territories to me, no matter the situation. So I would like to purchase the land from you." He drew out a map and unrolled it. Setting it down on the table, he pointed to several areas. "Here, and here, and here in particular."


    "These areas are all between my people and the worshippers of Kreshlak," mused Karasush.


    "Yes," said Father. "I have heard of the skirmishes between your peoples, and I desire that they stop. By creating a buffer zone between them, I hope to maintain peace." And if either clans attacked the colonists, Vanion had a reason to conquer them. If they didn''t, peace would reign.


    It gave opportunities for glory either way. However, William and Father would prefer the latter.


    "It may work," admitted Karasush. "I am certain we can come to some form of arrangement. It would help us pay the debt we owe Relg and also our tribute to Antion. Yet I must speak with the Chieftains in this regard. I am recognized as the leader of all the tribes of Fortenex. Yet my power is not absolute."


    "Then go and seek their answer," said Father. "Now, excuse me, I have another meeting to attend."


    "You mean the demoness Arraxia," mused Karasush.


    She was here. William sensed her. Her shadow was cast over the courtyard, visible in the form of a girl his age. "You are perceptive, Karasush. Do run along," said the girl. "I have a meeting with an equal to attend to."


    "Hubris suits no one, milady," said Karasush. He finished his drink. Then he departed without another word.


    "I truly cannot abide that you didn''t cut his throat," said Arraxia.


    "It is better to convert an enemy to your side than destroy them," said Father. "Something which I would have thought a demon like yourself would understand all too well."


    "Only when they can be relied upon," said Arraxia. "For all his submission claims, Karasush is no one''s subject save his own."


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "Whatever the case, I am glad that you were able to attend," said Vanion. "We have some business to discuss."


    "Unless you desire to swear fealty, I sincerely doubt it," mused Arraxia. Then she looked straight at William. "How have you been, dear William? Oh? Nothing to say? A pity, I do so enjoy our conversations."


    "I assure you, the feeling is not mutual," said William, drawing off his hood. "You''ve tried to kill me twice now."


    "Yes. Yes, I suppose I have," mused Arraxia, tone nostalgic. "All mortals die. To be honest, I''m being exceedingly considerate by taking the matter out of your hands."


    "I am aware of your reasons," said Father. "My son is a means by which Melchious can gradually return to this world now that you have driven him out. Of course, the question would be easily answered with my support."


    "Are you suggesting an alliance?" asked Arraxia.


    "Nothing of the sort," said Father. "I am bound to the will of Elranor and could not in good conscience support a demon. But, of course, should it come to it, I could see myself arranging for support for the lesser of two evils.


    "All I ask in return is that you stop these meaningless attempts on William''s life."


    "You do mean an alliance. Very well, I shall humor your delusions of being my equal," said Arraxia. "I am not unreasonable. So far from it, reason itself flows wholly from my opinions."


    "There is one other thing," said Father.


    "You test my patience," said Arraxia. "What is it you desire?"


    "I want you to stop attacking ships that sail along Savior''s Run," said Vanion.


    "Oh, but Doltier and all his little friends enjoy it," said Arraxia. "It would be a shame to deny them such simple pleasures."


    "No one sails down Savior''s Run anymore," said Father. "No one has for years. The satyrs have caused all the merchants to take the sea instead of the direct route. Yet consider this: What if instead of robbing vessels, you charged them a fee for trading?"


    "Well, that would be a less violent solution," admitted Arraxia. "But violence does have its appeal."


    "Haven''t you ever wondered why Melchious was never anything more than a brigand?" asked Father. "It was because his satyrs, for all their fury, could never organize. They were always fighting someone and could not be unified or made to better themselves.


    "Imagine what would happen if you brought them into a new age of prosperity? The warriors you use in constant minor skirmishes could be used for greater wars."


    "Well, that does sound rather nice," mused Arraxia. "Yet, why should you care?"


    "I am always looking for accomplishments to parade before the court of Antion," said Father. "Opening up a new trade route will do wonders for my reputation. And it will make reinforcing Artarq that much easier."


    "You do seem to have thought all this through," said Arraxia. "Very well, we have an agreement." She offered a hand.


    "Excellent," said Father. He took it and winced at the contact.


    The shadow faded away. Father looked to the guards who had stood by with drawn swords and then relaxed. William hadn''t wanted to fight Arraxia again. And he knew her well enough to think she might start something.


    "You did very well, William," said Father.


    "There didn''t seem very much for me to say anyway," said William. "Father, are you sure we can trust Arraxia?" She was now regarded as a growing power. She had secured her borders with the Nakmar and was throwing up fortified towns.


    "We can trust her to look after her best interests," said Father. "Antion does not have any major enemies at present. But, doubtless, she is concerned about the possibility of a full-scale invasion. And if we need to crush her, we can do so.


    "Of course, that does not mean she can actually do what I asked of her. How much control she has over the satyrs. This is a test of her abilities.


    "She might try to seize the Axe of Fortenex," noted William.


    "Put your mind at ease," said Father. "The Axe will soon be well away from here, and we will no longer have to concern ourselves with it. So now there is one last meeting for us to have."


    At that moment, a familiar, beautiful, blonde-haired girl approached. She was about three years William''s elder with a bowl cut. She was clad in white armor and wore two newly forged Nakmar swords. She bowed. One of her hands was shaking as she gripped a sword. "Captain Hrungeld of Viokinar is here, Duke Vanion." S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Thank you, Tanith. I would have you stay for this," said Father, motioning to a seat.


    Captain Hrungeld, the minotaur, made his entrance. His massive brown-furred frame could scarcely fit inside the gazebo entrance. He had more gray hairs in his beard from the last time William saw him. He bowed his head respectfully as he stood before Father.


    "It has been some years, Captain Hrungeld," said Father.


    "It has indeed, Duke Vanion," said Hrungeld. "You''ve made a name for yourself in that time, as has your son." He looked at William. "You''ve come into your own since you fell overboard."


    William smiled as he remembered his old self. That was a scared fourteen-year-old who cowered at the sight of a white satyr. He''d stood his ground before far more terrible things since then. "Yes. Captain Hrungeld, I apologize for my cowardice on the ship. I should have-"


    Hrungeld raised a hand. "Say no more. Raynald ordered you to stay out of it. Besides, I''ve had great business from Seathorius since you put that demoness in power. Satyr wine is always profitable, and we''ve made enormous profits selling it.


    "Those creatures are vicious in a fight, but no one can fault them their drinks."


    "Yes, well, we''ll need you," said Father. "I need you to transport something for us."


    The minotaur eyed him. "What, exactly?"


    "This," said Father, reaching below the table and drawing out a long package. It was tied with many bandages and etched with runes. As he set it down, its sound was far heavier than it should have been.


    It hurt when you looked at it. And one could faintly hear screams. Then, as one looked closer, it seemed like red liquid was pouring out of the bandages. But when you blinked, it was gone.


    "That box is as though blood is seeping out of the cracks," mused Hrungeld. "What unholy artifact lies within?"


    "One that must not be reclaimed under any circumstances," said Father. "I cannot say more. I intend to have it purified or at least kept safe in Antion. I have reason to believe that any normal ship I send would be ambushed. To send a fleet would only attract attention. You must sail to the Port of Brisnar and meet Lady Rusara and Raynald in the Weeping Maiden tavern.


    "You will then pass this to her. I ask that you make as few stops as possible on this expedition."


    "Yes, yes, I see," said Hrungeld. "I am bound first for Port Otter to sell spices to the Nakmar. I will then purchase weapons to sell there. Nakmar Swords are very good, and I''ll be losing a decent profit."


    "I will, of course, compensate you," said Father, "Felix."


    Felix emerged from where he had been standing all along. Not that anyone except William had noticed him. He''d melded with the shadows themselves. Now he placed down a large chest upon the table and opened it.


    Hrungeld looked at the gold within and smiled. "This is a fortune."


    "I will give you this now," said Father. "When the mission is completed, and I know that Rusara lay hands on the package, I shall gladly pay you the other half."


    "You are a wealthy man, Duke Vanion," noted Hrungeld.


    "You overestimate me," said Father with a smile. "Oh, and this is Tanith Telus, a veteran of the Khasmir campaign and a student of Raynald De Chevlon. She and Felix will accompany your ship and ensure everything is in order. And so will Massacre here."


    Massacre, the Chimera looked up for the first time during the conversation. Or at least her goat head looked up. She eyed Hrungeld blearily. "Bah."


    "A chimera?" said Hrungeld, voice doubtful.


    "I will supply all the food you need for her," said Father. "She is merely there to ensure everything goes well and to act as security."


    "I don''t like being imposed on," mused Hrungeld.


    "Bah," said Massacre. Hrungeld flinched.


    "And I would not say in other circumstances," said Father. "But this is far too serious to leave without an escort."


    "Very well, I''ll do it," said Hrungeld. "I''ll tell no one on the crew that doesn''t need to know either. Safer that way. I''ll leave with the tide."


    "Thank you, Hrungeld," said Father.


    "Now, I''ll take this with me and get the men ready," said Hrungeld, picking up the case. "Good day to both of you."


    As Hrungeld left, William looked after him. Then he looked to Father. "Father, I''m not sure about sending Felix off on this venture?"


    "I know you don''t like being deprived of a servant and friend," said Father. "However, you will have to manage without him for a time. Someone has to control Massacre, and no one besides yourself is friendly enough with her."


    "Bah," snapped Massacre.


    "Felix, I''m sorry you have to go to all this inconvenience," said Father.


    "I made a fortune investing in the malas trade before you started selling it to Calisha," said Felix. The dark-skinned boy was clad in finer clothes than three months ago. "I feel I owe you something."


    "A just point," mused Father, a slight smile on his lips.


    "Still, be careful," said William.


    Felix smirked. "Who do you think I am? You?"


    William laughed. "Fair enough."


    It looked like the start of another adventure. Fortunately, William was not going to be a part of it. Which was good; he could heal more people this way.

 Chapter Three: The Tale of Queen Dawn

    Kiyora found herself in a library when she entered Seathorius that night. Bjorn was sitting in a chair, reading as he often did. He glanced up in surprise and adjusted his spectacles.


    "Hey Bjorn, how is it going?" asked Kiyora.


    He set down his book and stood. "Well enough Dreaming Goddess. I am told many new faithful are coming to your temple in Artarq. Your worship is spreading far and wide."


    "Yeah, sure, great, whatever. Is there anything I can do to help?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, there is a patrol who hasn''t reported in yet," admitted Bjorn. "I doubt it is worth your time, especially since-"


    "Say no more," said Kiyora, who was bored.


    She transported herself to the surface and looked at the trees. "Excuse me, could you look for a disappeared Nakmar patrol? It was supposed to have come in recently. If you find them direct them here."


    Then she zipped back down to the library. "Done."


    "I am grateful, Dreaming Goddess," said Bjorn. "Yet there is something else."


    He had something else? That sounded interesting. "Yes?"


    "Queen Dawn is waiting for you," said Bjorn.


    "Queen Dawn?" asked Kiyora. "She is, uh... I''ll get to it."


    "She is the Queen of the High Elves," said Bjorn. "She came here some days ago and requested to speak with you when you next appeared."


    Kiyora sighed. "Well, I''d better go see what she wants. Where is she?"


    "In the next room," said Bjorn. "She was very interested in our records."


    Kiyora nodded and made her way into the next room. As soon as she saw Queen Dawn, she blinked. The woman sitting on the floor reading a book looked precisely like Alchara. Well, not exactly. She was mortal. There was none of the unearthly beauty around her, just natural beauty and a lot of it.


    "This had better be good," said Kiyora.


    Queen Dawn looked up. Kiyora realized that she was looking at Alchara in those blue eyes.


    "Discourteous as always, I see."


    "Well, we didn''t exactly part on the best of terms last time, Alchara," said Kiyora. "Why are you pretending to be Queen Dawn?"


    "I am not," said Alchara. "I am Queen Dawn. Or it would be more accurate to say that Queen Dawn is my mortal incarnation. You see-"


    "Nevermind, I don''t care," said Kiyora. "What do you want?"


    "Well, first, I should give you some advice," said Dawn. "You take far too personal a role in the affairs of your subjects."


    "Well, I am a personal person," said Kiyora.


    "I am quite serious, Kiyora," said Dawn. "A goddess has an intimate connection with all her worshippers. The more the goddess acts, the stronger that connection becomes. Doing too much for them could cause them to rely on you as a crutch.


    "That would be most unfortunate."


    "Sure, whatever," said Kiyora. "Now, what is it?"


    "The demoness Arraxia has rebuilt Baltoth''s Retribution. She has extended her influence over the subjects of Laughing Wraith," said Queen Dawn. "As of this moment, she is gaining more and more power every day."


    "Uh, no, she isn''t," said Kiyora. "I''m extending my influence over the satyrs that used to worship Laughing Wraith too. And I''ve got connections with Antion. So if she tried anything, I could call on them for reinforcements."


    "Perhaps. Or they might decide you are not worth the effort," Queen Dawn noted.


    "What do you want, Alchara?" asked Kiyora. "I thought we''d established by now that I don''t like you and don''t want to spend any more time with you than necessary."


    Queen Dawn sighed. "The High Elves who dwell upon the elvish reservations have begun overpopulating. As a result, more and more must go abroad into foreign lands and colonies to make their fortune.


    "My subjects need more land. We have already conquered several islands in the eastern sea. Yet these are insufficient for our purposes."


    "Sucks to be you," said Kiyora with a smile. "That doesn''t sound like my problem."


    "It is your problem," said Dawn in irritation. "Even if the plight of the high elves means nothing to you, Seathorius belongs to the elves by right. It was our possession before Anoa the Butcher forced us into hiding. We were here long before the Dust Elves constructed Baltoth''s Retribution. We have a right to reclaim that which is ours, and I have already received assurances that I may do so with a free hand."


    "Oh, so you''re threatening me. Great, that''s great," said Kiyora. "Bring it on, bitch."


    "I am not threatening you," said Dawn. "Why do you always act as though I am a villain?"


    "I saved Actovosh, and you paid me back by trying to marry me off to some guy I didn''t even know," said Kiyora. "And you forced my best friend to give up a priceless artifact he earned so you''d leave me alone. And then you tried to convince me to help you commit ethnic cleansing on the satyrs.


    "Also, I have it on good authority that everything bad ever is your fault. And I''ve checked several sources on that. So I''m not taking their word for it.


    "Do these sound like the actions of a hero you?"


    Queen Dawn sighed. "I understand that many races have come to call Seathorius home in the time since it was taken from my people. But I have no choice. In forty years, the lands of the high elves will be unable to sustain their population.


    "We must expand, or we will starve."


    "Or you could stop breeding like rabbits," said Kiyora. "Just a thought."


    "In the days before Anoa the Butcher, the High Elves did so," said Queen Dawn. "I remember it very well. We tried to have fewer children so that the land could sustain us. But the humans continued to breed. They did not live alongside nature as we did.


    "We tried to convince them to stop. But they would not listen.


    "So, we were forced to thin their numbers."


    "And you wonder why Anoa the Bright didn''t like you," mused Kiyora.


    "What he did was not war," said Dawn. "It was simple butchery. He laid waste to entire civilizations, not of elves, but other races he deemed unfit to live. He made a wasteland and called it...


    "Well, he didn''t call it peace at all. Instead, he went straight back to war.


    "We may have hunted humans. But we would not have exterminated them as Anoa tried to do to us."


    "Oh wow," said Kiyora, "you''d never exterminate a species. I guess satyrs and black dragons don''t count, then?" S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Black Dragons are not a race!" said Dawn. "I was only trying to kill Smyngoth''s entire family after he nearly wiped out the Gold Dragons! I never anticipated that Wrynncurth would survive! Let alone create a new race of cosmic horrors from the souls of his family!


    "And as for the satyrs, I had no intention of exterminating the species. I merely wish them to be driven from the land. That race has far too many holdouts to be destroyed in a single war. And in any case, satyrs are an abomination."


    "What makes them different from other species exactly?" asked Kiyora. "What, did you curse them too?"


    Queen Dawn sighed. "Long ago, each of the races was brought into being. A male and a female for each. From this union would their entire race descend. Alchara gave each race certain gifts-"


    "You are Alchara," said Kiyora.


    "Yes, and no," said Dawn. "I am more limited than her. I don''t usually remember all she does. The knowledge fades from my mind when unneeded. At any rate, I was the Queen of the Gods, and I gave each race their gifts.


    "The elves were granted long life and attunement to the spirit world. The dwarves were granted great durability and mastery of craft. Goblins were given the ability to live in places where no other race could survive. Halflings were given an affinity for the earth, and they could easily raise crops. Each race had such a power granted to them."


    "What did humans get?" asked Kiyora.


    "I... well, that is a rather complicated story," said Queen Dawn.


    "Complicated, how?" asked Kiyora. "And how did you screw it up?"


    "Well, humans weren''t even in the original plan for the first world," said Queen Dawn. "We had all the races lined up. But we realized that there was no way they would interact with each other. They needed to be more specialized.


    "We needed a middleman to bring them all together. So, after all the other races had been created, we assembled humans at the last minute. Basically, they could learn any ability, but not as quickly as the races that specialized in it."


    "So what was the problem?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Father of all humans, Lucius, had a competitive streak," said Queen Dawn. "He dedicated his life to churning out as many children as possible. Then he sent them to become apprentices to the other races. After that, he went out of his way to learn everything he could.


    "Though his children didn''t learn as fast as the other races, there were so many. They were bridging the gap. They invented writing to pass the information on and stole techniques from all races. If things had continued, none of the other races would have had a chance."


    "So you tried to exterminate them," guessed Kiyora.


    "No!" said Queen Dawn. "This is ages ago, before this world was even created. I''m not talking about the first humans in this world. I''m talking about the first humans in the world the gods created."


    "So what did you do?" asked Kiyora. "Send a strongly worded letter?"


    "We had made the humans too powerful," said Alchara. "So we decided to shorten their lifespan. They lived far shorter times than the other races. We also allowed the other races to branch out into other areas of expertise. In this way, a balance was restored to the races."


    "Wow, I''m sure that went over well," said Kiyora, rolling her eyes.


    "It went over terribly," said Alchara. "Lucius was enraged. He claimed we had stolen his race''s gift and given it to everyone else."


    "You kind of did," said Kiyora.


    "It was always the god''s plan to set limits on mortal lifespans," Dawn said. "None of the races ended up immortal. Even elves wither and die eventually.


    "But Lucius wouldn''t listen to anything we said. Instead, he became obsessed with regaining his lost immortality and turned to dark rituals. He forced his children to learn skills at younger and younger ages. Those that did not meet his expectations were banished from his sight.


    "His spells failed him. And eventually, he and his wife, Evoria, became old while the other races were still young. It was that which pushed him over the edge. He''d always hated the Father of my race. And knowing that he would live on for centuries while Lucius withered and died was a humiliation. One, he would not forgive.


    "In a rage, Lucius murdered Evoria and used her blood in a ritual to create a new race. One made after the image of his bloodthirst. The satyrs."


    "Gods, this is boring," said Kiyora. "I don''t care what happens to any of these people. Can I get the cliff notes version or something?" She was interested but wanted to avoid giving Alchara satisfaction.


    "Fine, you little brat!" snapped Dawn. "Lucius created the satyrs. Then he made their entire purpose in existence to destroy and devour all races that were not human. And they have plagued the world ever since. He then killed himself, the first suicide. Doing this created the impersonal force of entropy known as the Withering."


    "Wait, why would killing himself create the Withering?" asked Kiyora. "Why would killing his wife create the satyrs?" She was interested in that. It seemed like something worth knowing.


    "Because he was not just a human," said Dawn. "He was the Father of an entire race. Evoria was the Mother of that race. The energies of creation within them were far greater than any mortal before or since. When the Father or Mother of a race does something, it echoes throughout eternity.


    "When he murdered Evoria, it was an act of unforgivable evil. For the first man of a race to murder, his wife is something that has never happened before. Not even in prior universes. It created a ripple effect in the spirit world, whose effects are felt today. Humanity, as a whole, might have been tainted. The only reason it wasn''t was because he had had many children before he went over the edge."


    "Boring..." said Kiyora in a sing-song voice.


    "Why do you ask questions when you don''t want to hear the answers?" hissed Dawn.


    "Well, maybe because when I ask why satyrs don''t have the right to live, I want an actual reason," said Kiyora. "Not some boring, second-hand mythology you probably aren''t even telling the truth about."


    "Second hand... I WAS THERE!!" roared Dawn, eyes shining as light poured forth from her. It was Alchara speaking those words.


    "Yeah, I know," said Kiyora. "I''m just messing with you because I don''t like you."


    For a moment, Dawn held her gaze. Then finally, she relented. The glow faded, and the light was shut out. "At any rate, you must see that Arraxia has no intention of keeping her borders the same. When she is ready, she will attempt to seize your lands and bring the Nakmar under her control. If she does not destroy them first."


    "Yeah, probably," said Kiyora.


    "...And you do not intend to do anything about this?" asked Dawn.


    "Nope," said Kiyora. "I''m still weighing my options."


    "King Andoa II has assured me that if I launch an invasion, he will take no action against me," said Dawn. "If you assist me, we could weaken the satyrs considerably. I would gladly give you half of the territory we conquered.


    "In light of your preferences, we need not kill them all."


    Kiyora sighed. "I''ll tell you what; I''ll consult my advisors and see what they think, then I''ll get back to you. That okay?"


    "Ask whomever you desire," said Dawn. "However, know that I will not wait forever."


    "Whatever," said Kiyora before teleporting away.


    Kiyora arrived in one of the halls of the Palace of Arsheen. At once, she saw Massacre. The chimera was lying on the ground. As soon as Kiyora appeared, she rolled over. Kiyora kneeled and began to give her a belly rub.


    "Hey Massacre, who''s a good girl?" said Kiyora. "You''s a good girl. Hey, uh, where is William?"


    "Bah," said the goat head.


    "I''m standing right behind you," said William.


    Kiyora turned around in surprise and saw William reading a book on magic. The long-haired blonde boy was clad in robes and sitting by the fire. He looked tired. "Oh, hey, Will."


    "My name is William," he said. "How can I help?"


    "I was just looking for your dad," said Kiyora. "I kind of need his help on something."


    "He''s busy meeting with the representatives of the Artarq nobles," said William. "He replaced Asimir and his allies with men who are loyal. So they''ve all been afraid they''ll be next. Father is trying to assure them they are only at risk if they betray them. It could take hours."


    "Well, that sucks," said Kiyora. "I guess I''ll come back later."


    "What is it you need advice on?" asked William, putting down his book. "Did Alchara go back on her word?"


    "No, not exactly. She''s trying to get me to join in an alliance against the satyrs," said Kiyora. "She wants to invade them and get rid of them before Arraxia betrays us."


    "So that''s what she was planning," mused William.


    "You knew?" said Kiyora.


    "Well, Father mentioned that Queen Dawn has been meeting with King Andoa. Something about expanding her territory," said William. "Sixty years ago, he allowed the High Elves to conquer some isles in the Sea of Power. They enslaved the satyr populations and sold them to the Sornian Sugar Plantations."


    "What does that involve?" asked Kiyora.


    "You don''t want to know," said William. "Suffice it to say that it is more of a prolonged death sentence than slavery. Civilized cultures pay dwarves for such work. They are much more durable than most races, so they don''t suffer the same ill effects. But the nobles of Sorn are interested in profit, and if that means they must work an entire population to death, so be it.


    "There have been other attempts to expand recently, of course."


    "So what happened to the island?" asked Kiyora.


    "The elves established settlements on them. They then began emigrating in great numbers," said William. "I gather the High Elves had become overpopulated and needed the land."


    "I still want to know how they managed it," asked Kiyora. "I know humans mature quickly, but elves aren''t considered mature until they are at least sixty. No offense, but this seems more a human problem."


    "None taken," said William. "If you must know, the High Elven population was devastated by Anoa the Bright. It was just retribution for their atrocities. You see, he initially merely conquered Gel Carn and made that into his Kingdom. However, as his people grew and grew in number, the elves made war on them.


    "He didn''t take it well.


    "In the aftermath, Queen Dawn realized their lack of numbers had defeated them. Thus she reorganized her society to produce as many children as possible. For centuries female elves were expected to remain constantly pregnant. The hope was to restore their decimated population as quickly as possible.


    "In all fairness, many factions would have loved to wipe them out. So the added population probably saved them from extinction. They did need the warriors.


    "Now her efforts are paying off. Or so Rusara believes; I think they''re about to hit their limit."


    "Oh," said Kiyora. "We Dreamer Elves have something similar, but it has nothing to do with genocide. We have five females for every male, meaning that males are expected to have multiple wives. It''s screwed up.


    "Hey, where is Rusara anyway?"


    "She has business in other parts of Harlenor," said William. "She is a Dust Elf of great influence and can hardly afford to be here all the time. I''d tell you where she is, but I have no idea."


    "Right, well, what do you think I should do about all this?" asked Kiyora.


    William seemed to consider the question. "I wouldn''t ally with the High Elves." He said at last.


    "Why not?" asked Kiyora.


    "Aside from the fact that not all satyrs are evil?" asked William. "It doesn''t make sense from a pragmatic perspective. The High Elves have a highly organized military far stronger than yours. If you help them destroy the satyrs, you''ll end up as a vassal to them, at best. Assuming they don''t destroy you once you''ve outlived your usefulness."


    "Do you think Alchara would do that?" asked Kiyora.


    "You have hardly been friendly with her in the past." mused William. "But in truth, I don''t know. My education is less extensive when it comes to High Elves. However, I know that the elves hunted "lesser races" for sport long ago. They were constantly murdering them without defiance sent. The High Elves regard that time of their history as a Golden Age. That should tell you where their priorities lie."


    "So what do I do?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''ll talk to my Father. He has friends at court," said William. "They may be able to change King Andoa''s mind. As for what you can do. I''d ally with Arraxia."


    "You''re kidding," said Kiyora.


    "No. It is not in her interest to be wiped off the face of the map," said William. "She''ll need all the help she can get."


    "But she''s a demon, and you are a paladin," said Kiyora. "Why would you want me to work with her?"


    "Elranor himself allied with demons when both of them had a common enemy," said William. "Alliances shift and change with the fortunes of war. We must live with this reality, however much we admire our enemies or hold our allies in contempt."


    "But I can''t slaughter my people!" said Kiyora.


    "They are High Elves," said William. "You are a Dreamer Elf. You are different races."


    "Well, yes, but I mean, I live in a city where Alchara is worshipped above all else," said Kiyora. "If I kill her subjects, she could make life unpleasant for me."


    "Then, you must avoid a war," said William. "If you can form a united front with Arraxia, you may be able to convince Alchara it isn''t worth the risk. And if war does break out, then you will have to obey the rules of war. Treat the prisoners with the utmost respect. Make it clear that this is nothing personal.


    "I''m sorry, Kiyora, but short of appeasing Alchara, there does not seem to be any other option."


    "Damn it!" said Kiyora.


    Why did weird stuff like this always happen to her?

 Chapter Four: Negotiations

    Baltoth''s Retribution had been a shining castle of beautiful white stone. There had been soaring towers and elegant curves the last time Kiyora had seen it. Well, it had been a pile of rubble. But the last time she''d seen it complete, it had been elegant.


    Now it was half complete in its reconstruction. It towered instead of soared and had noticeably more spikes on it. Satyrs were working busily around it, and even a few dwarves. These Kiyora took to be those who had gone over to the demons.


    Amidst all this, Arraxia lounged at the top of one of the towers. Her tail was flicking as she basked in the rays of the sun. Her dark hair had fallen around her shoulders, and her eyes were closed as though asleep. The demoness'' frankly enormous bust was rising and falling. Kiyora reappeared next to her, suspecting she had been noticed.


    "So this castle looks a bit different from last time," Kiyora said.


    "Oh yes, I decided I ought to make a few changes," said Arraxia. "I spent some decades with my spirit bound to this castle, doing Melchious'' bidding. I thought it might look better in black."


    "Does it work?" asked Kiyora.


    "But of course," said Arraxia. "With Baltoth''s Retribution, I will be able to manipulate the terrain around it once again to do as I like."


    "So you''re going to bind your spirit to it again?" asked Kiyora.


    "No, of course not," said Arraxia. "That degradation was forced upon me by Melchious. No, I shall find a way to use it without any bother. So do tell me what brings me the pleasure of your company?"


    "The High Elves are planning to invade you," said Kiyora, tone conversational.


    "Yes, I had heard some reports from Doltier," mused Arraxia. "Satyrs don''t usually dare cross over the river to raid; I expect it may prove troublesome to defeat them. Are you here to suggest an alliance?"


    "No, I''m here to get whatever I can," admitted Kiyora. "Alchara has offered me half of your territory if I help her wipe out the satyrs. If I assist them, my Nakmar can show them all the secret ways, and I can overwhelm you. The thing is, I don''t trust Alchara not to betray me any more than I trust you."


    "My, you do seem capable of intelligent thought," said Arraxia, opening her eyes. "I suppose you wish me to make a counteroffer, do you?"


    "Well, it does seem reasonable," said Kiyora.


    "I offer nothing," said Arraxia. "Take it or leave it."


    "Are you sure about this?" asked Kiyora.


    "Why yes, yes, I am," said Arraxia. "We both know you cannot afford to let the High Elves gain a foothold here. They are the superior power and a far greater threat to both of us than either of us is to the other. An alliance is the natural course of action, and I know you need to be more stupid to submit to Alchara. And even if you were, you blame her for trying to marry you off.


    "You could never bring yourself to submit to her."


    "Cute," said Kiyora. "In case you hadn''t noticed, you are rebuilding Baltoth''s Retribution. If you ever get this thing working again, it could give you a significant advantage over my Nakmar. And with your recent converts among Wraith''s followers, I could be in trouble in a few years. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "And the only power I''d be able to turn to would be the High Elves."


    "Oh, that is adorable," said Arraxia without much interest. "Couldn''t you simply appeal to your master, Duke Vanion?"


    "I could appeal to my ally," said Kiyora. "But I know that he isn''t one to rush into combat. If I ally with the demon constantly trying to kill his son, he might be reluctant to help me."


    "And I suppose you expect he will come running to your rescue when the High Elves take your lands?" mused Arraxia.


    "Of course not," said Kiyora. "But Vanion is very influential in Antion. He could convince King Andoa to pressure the High Elves to back off from any attack on Nakmar territory. On the other hand, you don''t care about what King Andoa thinks.


    "Which one inspires more sympathy? The innocent dwarves who the High Elves have betrayed? Or the scheming runt who made a deal with a demon and is now being consumed by it?"


    "Well, you seem to have thought this through," said Arraxia. "Very well, is there any assurance I can make that will convince you of my good intentions?"


    "I want partial control over Baltoth''s Retribution," said Kiyora.


    Arraxia sat up and turned to eye her suspiciously. "...Really?"


    "Yes," said Kiyora. "The Chieftains of the Nakmar and the rulers of the Satyrs will cooperate in its use. Both have veto power over the other''s decisions. Assuming we ever get the thing working, of course."


    "So, you would have me give up full control over this fortress and submit it to a committee?" asked Arraxia. "You''re bolder than I expected."


    "I''m taking a course on negotiating," said Kiyora.


    "That seems a remarkably advanced subject for a mortal child," muttered Arraxia.


    "I''m, and I''ve been in school for nineteen years," said Kiyora. "I''m well past basics. And I''m a teenager."


    "Yes, yes, you''re very smart." mused Arraxia. "I''ll make you a counterproposal. I''ll agree to your terms for a single condition."


    "What is it?" asked Arraxia.


    "I will be in command of this Alliance. I will decide our strategy," said Arraxia. "You will defer to me in all such matters. Do we have an agreement?"


    "Nope!" said Kiyora.


    Then she snapped her fingers for effect and teleported away.


    The next place she went, she had never been before. Teleporting areas like that was always troublesome. She had to focus, and little by little, the picture would form in her mind. When she got the image clearly, she could go there at once.


    In this case, the picture was of a forest of lush green moss and white trees. The leaves were of gold, and there were sparkles in the air. Honest to gods sparkles. From what Kiyora had heard, it was a picture of what the elven domains had looked like. Before Anoa the Bright went axe crazy on them anyway. She didn''t particularly care for it. Even so, the place had an undeniable sense of peace as she appeared on a walkway.


    One couldn''t imagine something dying in this place. Not plants, anyway.


    An elf with white hair, clad in equally white garments, stared at her as she appeared. His mouth was hanging open. After a moment, he shut it. "You are the Dreaming Goddess?"


    "Yeah, that''s me," said Kiyora. "I''d like to talk with Queen Dawn if you don''t mind. Or Alchara. Whichever one is closer."


    "We will bring you to her at once. Queen Dawn has been waiting for you," said the elf.


    "Thanks, I appreciate it," said Kiyora. "Oh, and you might want to look into building some handrails here."


    "We elves are not nearly as clumsy as other races." said the elf.


    "What if an ambassador slips and falls off your little treehouse here?" asked Kiyora.


    "Treehouse?" asked the elf, sounding insulted.


    "It wasn''t an insult," said Kiyora. "But where I''m from, we make our houses from living wood."


    "How do you do that?" asked the elf.


    "We ask them to form their limbs and roots into the shape of buildings," said Kiyora. "Of course, they have to be pretty big for that. Thousands of years old. So it isn''t something you can do easily."


    She was led through the various walkways and up a stair. There were no handrails to be seen there either. They came to a tall building from which the sound of a flute playing could be heard. Kiyora was escorted in and found that Queen Dawn was playing the flute.


    "Welcome to Qor''dana, Dreaming Goddess," said Dawn. "I''ve been expecting you. Please, sit down; I''ll have some wine brought at once."


    "No, thanks, I''ll have water," said Kiyora. "I''m underage."


    "I don''t understand," said Dawn.


    "You should, shouldn''t you?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, you refer to my status as Alchara''s mortal incarnation," said Dawn. "Yes, I am an extension of her will, but I do not possess all the information she has. When we met before, she was directly inhabiting me, so I knew things I shouldn''t."


    "Well, in any case, I''ll just have water," said Kiyora. "Children my age aren''t allowed to drink alcohol where I''m from."


    "Strange. When I was your age, I was already among the hunting parties," said Dawn. "But that was before the fall. So it is natural things should change." Water and wine arrived. Kiyora took a glass and sipped it. It was purer than any water she had tasted. And oddly, somehow more real.


    "We should discuss the details of our alliance," said Dawn.


    "Yeah, we''ve got a problem," said Kiyora. "You see, shortly after Alchara left, I was approached by the Queen of the Satyrs, Arraxia. And she asked me to ally with her against a common enemy. You."


    "You don''t believe that, do you?" asked Dawn. "We are both elves."


    "But I rule over dwarves," said Kiyora. "And my people are reluctant to assist a higher power which they perceive may turn around and do the same to them."


    "Yet surely they have been hated enemies with the satyrs for centuries," said Dawn.


    "Yeah, but they also make truces with them and trade," said Kiyora. "It varies from week to week. If one satyr tribe gets too powerful, they may even unite with the dwarves to knock them down a peg. And that isn''t even getting into the Nakmar who have turned to worship demons."


    "I cannot believe what I am hearing," said Dawn. "You would consider the word of a fellow elf on par with a demon?"


    "Arraxia is twenty billion times better than Melchious," said Kiyora. "Before she came along, it was all cannibalism and raiding and sacrificing goats. She''s cut off the raids and is working to bring the satyrs out of the stone age.


    "See, she''s an incredible narcissist and wants huge temples built in her honor. But she can''t do that with a ragtag collection of cannibals."


    "And you trust her not to betray you?" said Dawn.


    "Of course, I don''t," said Kiyora. "I trust her to act in her self-interest. And possibly honor the letter of her word. I don''t trust her at all. I just am willing to work with her against a common enemy."


    "Then why have you come here?" asked Dawn.


    "Well, that''s the thing. I was hoping you might make me a better offer," said Kiyora.


    "You are playing both sides," surmised Dawn.


    "Pretty much," admitted Kiyora. "The Nakmar don''t like either of you much. If I''m going to justify allying, I''ll have to show them some real benefits from it."


    "Ah, I see. I see. I get the picture," said Dawn. "What exactly is it you want?"


    "Well, how about the Goldenwood Harp?" said Kiyora.


    "Out of the question," said Dawn. "That harp belongs to my goddess, not to me, and even if I could give it away, I would not. It was a gift from the Goddess of Music, Mia."


    "You are your goddess," said Kiyora.


    "And she has made it quite clear to me she would not part with it," said Dawn.


    "...I''m listening to any counteroffers you want to make," said Kiyora after a moment.


    "What about a controlling interest in the northwestern branch Savior''s Run?" asked Dawn.


    "Hmm?" said Kiyora, sipping her water.


    "When we take control of Seathorius, we will be able to tax the waterways," said Dawn. "Savior''s Run flows from the far north, between Seathorius and Qor''dana. However, it branches off about halfway through. One-half heads south through Antion and into the Ghost Mountains of Sorn.


    "The other runs through-"


    "The domain of the Nakmar, yes, I know; I don''t need a lesson in geography, lady," said Kiyora. "So let me see if I have this clear. I help you eliminate the satyrs, and then you give my Nakmar total control over the western branch?"


    "That is correct," said Dawn.


    "Okay, I''ll think about it. Thank you for the water," said Kiyora, finishing it and setting the glass down. "Have a nice day."And she disappeared again.

 Chapter Five: The Coming of Rioletta

    The next morning Kiyora made her way downstairs to find breakfast being cooked. The smell of bacon and eggs was in the air. The sunlight through the white curtains by the kitchen table was nice and bright, especially with how it filtered by the trees outside her yard. Mom was wearing an unusual apron she liked, but nobody else did. Her green-dyed hair was tied behind her head in a ponytail, and Kiyora could smell bacon in the air. From the looks of things, some of the greases had spattered on the glove front.


    Dad was just outside, looking super engrossed in a painting he was doing. His eyes looked oddly sad today, though.


    "You''re up earlier than is usual on the weekends, Kiyora," said Mom.


    "Yeah, I''ve been a bit busy in my dreams lately," said Kiyora. "Figured I''d take a break and leave early."


    "Ah, right," said Mom, "breakfast isn''t done, so you''ll have to wait a bit." She looked like she wanted to say something else.


    "No problem," said Kiyora. "Is something wrong, Mom?"


    "No. Nothing," said Mom. "Just my daughter communing with unholy spirits every night."


    "Mom, they''re not unholy," said Kiyora. "And I''m fighting that kind of spirit." Well, not really, but she didn''t need to know that.


    "That''s almost worse," said Mom. "Kiyora, a few months ago, I thought your dreams were harmless. Something you saw without any bearing on the real world. Now I find out that the things you see in them are real and can reach into this world.


    "And what''s worse is that nobody notices. Nobody talks about when He possessed everyone. When I mention it, I get a blank look before anyone even remembers what I''m talking about. It''s like the whole universe is working to make everyone forget."


    "Mom, don''t worry. Nobody got killed," said Kiyora.


    "What about next time?" asked Mom. "And the time after that? I thought people talking about monsters stalking the streets were conspiracy theorists. Now I wonder if they are only some of the time. Maybe... maybe it could happen again.


    "I almost killed you, Kiyora. I felt Him in my mind, and he twisted me around until my hands grasped your neck and squeezed."


    "Mom, it''s okay," said Kiyora. "I''ll never let anything like that happen again. I promise."


    "I should be saying that to you," said Mom. "You''re still a kid. You shouldn''t have to worry about things like this."


    "Mom, I''m thirty-nine," said Kiyora. "I can make my own decisions. Besides, it isn''t exactly real to me, anyway. I''m not as affected by things in that world as I am by things in this one. I think that is part of the Spirit World. It''s always shifting, but this world is much more real."


    Breakfast was finished, and they sat down to eat it. As they ate, Kiyora looked for some reason to get their minds off her dreams. "So, um, when do you think Dad will get back?"


    "It all depends on how well people like his new paintings," said Mom. "They''ve all been much darker since He came here. Though he doesn''t seem too affected."


    "Right," said Kiyora. "Um, I''ve got to meet with some friends at Gisora''s house today."


    "Going to the arcade?" asked Mom in a tired voice.


    "No, actually, we''re doing some detective work," said Kiyora.


    "Detective work?" Mom didn''t sound surprised. "This wouldn''t have anything to do with Laurus'' conspiracy theories, would it?"


    "To be fair, Laurus has already been proven right once," said Kiyora.


    "That is why I don''t want you looking into it!" snapped Mom. "What if you do find something?"


    "We''re not looking for a monster this time, Mom," said Kiyora. "Just a ship. See, we''re trying to figure out where this mystical disappearing ship called the Black Star is. I mean, where it would land. If it was hovering unseen around Actovosh.


    "Which it isn''t." It sounded weak, even to Kiyora.


    "And if you find anything?" asked Mom.


    "We''ll report it to the authorities. Honest," said Kiyora. "We did that last time too."


    "Fine, I''ll let you do this," said Mom. "But if this becomes another adventure, you''ll be grounded for sixty years. Now eat your breakfast. It''s getting cold."


    "Have fun storming the castle, dear," said Dad suddenly, roused from his trance.


    "Thank you, I will!" said Kiyora.


    "Don''t encourage her," said Mom.


    The walk to Gisora''s house could have been more exciting. As Kiyora walked, she saw people talking, window shopping, and laughing. One would never have guessed that the city had been possessed only a little while ago. Maybe she was spending too much time in her dreams. In dreams, things shifted all the time, always changing. But real life was constant.


    Gisora''s house was the largest of her friends. The roots had formed a mansion that was five stories high with more rooms than Kiyora could count. When she knocked on the door, it slid aside, and a servant answered.


    "Kiyora Yagos?" said the woman.


    "Yes, that''s me," said Kiyora.


    "Mistress Gisora is expecting you. Please come in."


    Kiyora was led to a large indoor living room {one of many} where she found Laurus, Gisora, and Reya. Tenius was there too. Laurus sat on the floor looking through a series of old newspaper articles. Gisora and Reya were on the couch talking with Tenius while sipping soda.


    "Hey, guys!" said Kiyora. "Sorry, I''m late!"


    "No problem," said Gisora. "Come on, sit down; I''ve got some soda here if you want it."


    "Right, thanks," said Kiyora. "Do you have any diet?"


    "We ran out a minute ago," said Reya.


    "Fine, I''ll take sugared, I guess." mused Kiyora. She reached for the soda bottle, but Tenius quickly poured her a cup. She blinked as he handed it to her. "Thanks, I guess."


    "Uh, no problem," said Tenius.


    "Now, maybe we can get started," said Gisora. "Laurus, will you clean that up and sit down?"


    "Some of it is relevant," said Laurus. But he complied. He reached for a cigarette.


    "And no smoking," said Gisora, slapping his hand away without looking up. As Laurus sat down, she sighed and looked around. "So last night I pulled the files on my Mom''s computer, and it turns out that the Black Star is high up there. All I could get on it was that the Department of Spiritual Defense was interested in it."


    "The Department of Spiritual Defense?" said Laurus in surprise. "That''s not their normal area of expertise. Shouldn''t the military be the ones concerned?"


    "Well, it turns out the military requested their expertise," said Gisora.


    "The Black Star was designed to enhance the powers of Dream Sages," mused Reya. "Weren''t they?"


    "Yes, so, what of it?" asked Laurus.


    "Well, maybe something went wrong," said Kiyora. "Maybe they opened a connection to the spirit world, which backfired." It had happened to her once or twice.


    "Come to think of it, the Black Star looks pretty creepy," said Gisora. "Usually, Emperor Ictargo prefers things fancy. I doubt it was just a change of style."


    "I can promise you it wasn''t just for show," said Reya. "Tree Ships are sentient beings. The type of magic they use changes them intimately."


    "Maybe the Black Star was using a darker enhancement method," suggested Laurus.


    Tenius looked at the picture of the Black Star. He ran his eyes over it as if trying to take in every detail. Then he looked up. "I''ve seen a ship like this."


    "What do you mean, Tenius?" asked Gisora.


    "Well, I mean, I haven''t seen a ship like this, but I''ve seen a picture of a ship like this," said Tenius quickly. "My grandpa fought the Dark Elves once and has a picture of a vessel he captured. They look just like this."


    "Right, the Dark Elves use a different kind of tree ship, right?" said Laurus.


    "They don''t use tree ships at all," said Tenius "The details are classified. But I heard some stories from my grandpa. He boarded one of their vessels. He found hundreds of our people prisoners in stasis. They were always keeping a lot of prisoners."


    "Maybe we could get a look at one of these ships?" suggested Gisora. "I could see if my mom could pull some strings..."


    "I don''t think that''ll work," said Tenius. "After the Dreamer Empire took over, Narvan Emperor Ictargo ordered them all destroyed. Their schematics were all burned, and all knowledge regarding them was purged. Everyone who knew anything about them was sworn to secrecy."


    "What was so horrible about these ships?" asked Reya. "It must be pretty bad for Emperor Ictargo to want all of them eradicated?"


    "I don''t know," admitted Tenius.


    "They were kidnapping us," said Laurus suddenly.


    Everyone looked at him in surprise. "Who? What are you talking about?" asked Kiyora.


    "Don''t you remember?" asked Laurus. "The war between Dark Elves and Dreamer Elves. It began because the Dark Elves started launching raids. They were taking people alive. Why would they do that to Dreamer Elves in particular?


    "And why would they keep them on Dark Elven war vessels that were going into combat?"


    "Grandpa has always said that we are connected to the spirit realm. One much stronger than other races," murmured Tenius. "Do you think that has something to do with it?"


    "I don''t know," admitted Laurus.


    "It is too soon to make any kind of judgment," said Gisora. "We need more information. Reya, did you finish that report on possible refueling locations for the Black Star?"


    "Yeah, um, nowhere," said Reya.


    "What do you mean "nowhere?" asked Gisora.


    "I mean nowhere," said Gisora. "Landing zones for tree ships are kept under a lot of security. So if the Black Star wanted to land, it would be swarmed immediately."


    "Maybe the ship was never really lost," said Laurus.


    "What do you mean?" asked Tenius.


    "Maybe it disappeared off the map on some kind of secret mission," said Laurus. "It was just a thought."


    "I don''t see what kind of secret mission could take it to the capital city of the Dreamer Empire," said Tenius. "Emperor Ictargo doesn''t have to be secretive here."


    "Can we please just drop it?" asked Kiyora. "It seems like this is a dead-end, and I''m sure the government can handle this."


    "You mean like they handled Laughing Wraith?" asked Laurus.


    "I thought we were trying to forget that," said Gisora.


    "That was a one-time mistake," said Kiyora. "And anyway, many people got fired for that fiasco."


    "Whatever you say," said Laurus.


    "Anyway, why don''t we all go to the mall?" asked Gisora. "We could get something to eat there and window shop?"


    "Sure, whatever."


    "I actually can''t come," said Reya. "Gisora and I were going to do some studying."


    "Oh right," said Gisora. "Well, you three will have to go without me."


    "Right, okay, I guess that leaves just the three of us," said Laurus. "Tenius, are you interested in any video games?"


    "Uh, not really," said Tenius.


    "Card games?" said Laurus.


    "No," said Tenius.


    "Model building?" said Laurus.


    "No," said Tenius.


    "Books on conspiracy theories?" asked Laurus.


    "No," said Tenius.


    "Do you have any defining characteristics at all?" asked Kiyora.


    "That''s a little harsh," said Laurus.


    "Well, I mean, I like farming," said Tenius. "Back when I was living at my home I grew carrots and things. Although Grandpa trains me in swordplay and things like that as well."


    "So what do you do with your royal allowance?" asked Gisora.


    "Well, mostly, it has just been piling up," admitted Tenius. "No matter how much of it we give to charity, more always arrives."


    "Right, I''m going to introduce you to civilized society at the hobby shop," said Laurus. "Come on; you have much to learn, my young apprentice."


    "I''ll come too," said Kiyora. Then she stopped herself. Why the hell did she volunteer? Well, it was too late to back out now.


    The mall was different from most buildings in Actovosh. For one thing, it had been built in the way of humans. Not one bit of it had been constructed from the limbs of Actovosh. Escalators connected many floors. At any time, one could look down from the railing to see the very bottom level. Not that Kiyora liked looking down, the height made her feel dizzy.


    There were also elevators and flowing fountains. And there were shops of all kinds. From clothes stores to books to hiking gear.


    The hobby shop was Laurus'' favorite place in the mall. It used to be a bookstore, but since people didn''t buy as many books as they used to, the owners had branched out. Kiyora had never had much of an interest in books. She much preferred to listen to them in a book on tape. Instead, she went to the coffee shop, which had been made there. She got herself a drink and a snack and ate both hungrily. After finishing that and getting sick of waiting, she walked to find Tenius and Laurus.


    She found them looking at some of the RPGs. Tenius was looking at them in bewilderment. "So, what is the deal with these books?"


    "They''re rule books," said Laurus. "See, you create a character from scratch and pretend to be that character with a party of other players. Then you have a GM who plays all the other characters that oppose that player."


    "So you sort of insert yourself into a fictional world?" asked Tenius.


    "Sure, let''s go with that," said Laurus.


    "Have you played this game?" asked Tenius, taking out a book.


    "Actually, no," said Laurus. "Though I did buy it. No one else in my family is interested, so I haven''t gotten the chance." He looked up to Kiyora, then to Laurus. "Hey, I just remembered I have to buy something."


    "What?" said Tenius.


    "Well, Dad wanted me to pick him up some wine on my way back," said Laurus. "I won''t be a minute."


    "Aren''t you underage?" asked Tenius. "How are you even going to buy it?"


    "Relax, man," said Laurus. "Nobody cares about those rules anyway." And he walked off. He lit a cigarette as soon as he was out of the store.


    "So why does Laurus smoke so much?" asked Tenius.


    "He has a lot of bad habits," said Kiyora. "See, uh, he kind of got possessed by a monster for years and years, and I think it affected him. Still, he''s a pretty nice guy."


    Tenius remained silent. "So, um, do you want to get some coffee."


    Kiyora felt like her heart was beating a thousand miles an hour. Words could hardly be formed in her throat as she had to fight down a blush. "No," said Kiyora firmly, "Thank you."


    The answer seemed to surprise Tenius. He remained silent as though having no idea how to react. "Oh, right; you already went to the shop earlier, didn''t you?"


    "Yes," said Kiyora. Why did Laurus have to bring Tenius into their circle of friends exactly? He didn''t seem any more comfortable here than her. "Why don''t we get out of here? I''m pretty much done looking at books."


    "So, what do you like to look at?" asked Tenius.


    Kiyora considered the question. "I''m a fan of art. My Dad is a painter."


    "You want to look for a place where they sell paintings?" asked Tenius.


    Her heart skipped a beat. This was getting irritating. "I''d much rather find Laurus, to be honest," said Kiyora.


    Then suddenly, there was a scream. Soon other cries of dismay came from outside. Kiyora turned and rushed out of the bookshop. Above the ceiling were dozens of huge black spiders, one of them nearly six feet long and three feet high. They were scuttling down the walls. Others were lowering through a broken skylight by threads.


    Kiyora saw a beautiful woman with red-dyed hair fleeing. Her foot caught on a thread of silk that had been laid, and she fell. She struggled to free herself, but the spider dragged her back towards it. Gripping her in its legs, it pulled her up. From there, it turned her round and round, covering her in silk threads. She screamed and screamed the entire time. The woman sobbed while the spider wrapped her up until she was utterly cocooned.


    It wasn''t a cocoon like a regular spider. It was not a bundle. Instead, it clung to her. Every curve and feature of the woman was visible. From the shape of her breasts to the look of horror on her face. Why was this fascinating? And why would she like to watch it? This was sick! Sick and wrong!


    The woman was dragged away through the skylight, and Kiyora shuddered. Looking down, she realized that she could have helped her. No, she''d never have gotten there in time. And she''d been in shock.


    "Kiyora, we have to go!" said Tenius.


    Kiyora was startled. She felt something mustering within her. A power she had felt before, which was now welling up again. "We''ve got to help them!"


    "Help how?" asked Tenius. "By getting webbed up too? Let''s find Laurus and get out!"


    "Well, well, well, if it isn''t just the person I was looking for," said a cheerful voice.


    Kiyora turned to see a spider. But this one was different and far larger. Instead of mandibles and eyes, the body led into a beautiful woman''s upper body. She was slim, with pale, purplish skin. Her hands were clawed, her hair a dark purple, and she had three eyes.


    "What do you want?" asked Kiyora.


    "What do I want? My, how very nice of you to ask," said the spider creature. "I''m a collector of sorts. My name is Rioletta, the Weaver of Fates. I seize elves and bind them to drain their torment. A little hobby between weaving the strands of fate. Do try to make this interesting, both of you." S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then she cut with her hand, sending silk threads toward them. Tenius pushed Kiyora to one side and pulled her away. Kiyora tried to summon the power she had felt before, but it was strangely elusive now that she was looking for it.


    Then she felt something catch her by the foot. She was dragged backward. The sensation of fear surged through her. She felt the same thing when she''d first seen Laughing Wraith years ago.


    She forced herself past it and saw Rioletta drawing her gradually backward. Tenius grabbed her hand and tried to pull her back. Yet this only seemed to make Rioletta enjoy things. "Yes, please struggle! Struggle! It only makes it better!"


    Kiyora found the power she had been looking for. The thread broke, and she felt her power surging through her. She stood and-


    "Excuse me," said a voice.


    And then a bottle spun out of nowhere and smashed against Rioletta''s head. The thread fell from her hands as clear liquid covered her body. They looked up to see Laurus leaning against the side of the railing. A lit cigarette was clamped between his teeth.


    Rioletta snarled as she felt the stuff all over her. "Wine, you little fly? I''ll tear out your throat!"


    And she rushed toward him to kill him. But even as she descended on him, Laurus rolled away, took the cigarette from his mouth, and threw it. The lit end hit the wine-soaking Rioletta, and she caught aflame. With a screech, she hit the railing, which bent and broke and fell downwards into the fountain below. There was a crash and a crash of rage as Rioletta pulled herself up.


    "Feel free the try," said Laurus.


    "Laurus, that was awesome!" said Kiyora.


    "Less talking, more running," said Laurus.


    They ran. But the spiders were now all scuttling toward them from every direction. Laurus led them down the stairs and out into an underground parking lock. Yet no sooner had they fled through than they found themselves facing three spiders.


    Dozens of men and women were piled high around, bundled up. All of them had perfect expressions of horror on their faces. The spiders rushed at them at once. Kiyora raised a hand and felt her power rise.


    There was a flash of blue light, and the creature screeched. They scuttled away in terror. Rushing down the parking lot, they found more and more of the spiders coming out around them. Kiyora used her powers again and again. But the bursts which she unleashed were hard. She''d only used them sparingly before. She felt sweat falling from her brow. Her hands were shaking, and it was all she could do to keep running.


    Finally, they were surrounded by the creatures. And Kiyora could not manifest the power to summon anything more.


    "What are these things?!" said Tenius.


    "Spiders," said Laurus.


    "I know that!" said Tenius.


    The creatures rushed at them. Yet then they halted. A shield of orange light surrounded them. The closest of the creatures were burned and reduced to ashes in moments. Kiyora looked around. "Emperor Ictargo?"


    "Has this happened before?" asked Laurus.


    The creatures wailed at the shield in unison. There was power in that screech. It hurt just to listen to it. Tenius screamed while the shield flickered. Which meant it couldn''t be Emperor Ictargo making it. Ictargo was not this weak. Kiyora looked and realized it was Tenius. Little by little, the shield was caving in. Any minute now, the shield would fail. Then they would be wrapped in those horrifying threads like everyone else.


    Then a surge of green lights engulfed the entire parking garage. Kiyora had to shield her eyes as the creatures died in moments. Walking into sight was a plain woman with red hair. She was clad in white robes and holding a double-bladed sword. On either side of her were white armored soldiers.


    "Lieutenant Escalus?" said Kiyora in surprise.


    "You three, get back quickly," said Escalus. "Move."


    Kiyora turned and saw dozens of spiders rushing into sight. They fled behind Escalus, who surged forward with her companions. They moved in a blur, seeming to be in many places simultaneously. Their blades sliced through the creatures with practiced ease. Whenever the beasts died, they were reduced to green blood. Five of them were slain by Escalus in moments, while her companions did just as well.


    Finally, no more spiders came after them. Escalus spun her blade around in a flourish before looking at her companions. "Sarin, Oser, keep an eye on them; the rest of you move in. Let''s move people."


    People? Who else was here?


    Then Kiyora noticed others emerging. It was not that they hadn''t been visible. It was more like they had made themselves beneath notice. There were dozens of them.


    "What do you think is going on?" asked Laurus.


    "How should I know?!" asked Kiyora. "And why are you so calm?!"


    "I spent years with Laughing Wraith in my head," said Laurus. "This kind of thing is tame.


    "What I want to know is what Escalus was doing so near at hand."


    "What do you mean?" asked Tenius.


    "Those spiders came down here in like thirty seconds," said Laurus. "How could the DSD have mobilized and gotten here this quickly in this kind of force? I think they were aware something was going to happen."


    "They probably just detected her coming ahead of time," said Tenius. "Maybe they''ve sent someone to watch me. Or you."


    "Or both," noted Laurus, drawing out his lighter and another cigarette.


    "Give it a rest, will you!" As Kiyora snatched both away, she realized that her problems were far from over. "Mom is going to kill me."


    Another adventure.

 Chapter Six: Grounded

    The spider''s attack on the mall lasted two more hours. The DSD managed to destroy many creatures in a series of explosive battles. Now and then, you could hear the sounds of attack names being called and explosive weaponry. Rioletta escaped, though, alongside a large number of captives. While she was on the onbranch, news of it flashed across Kiyora''s mind as if it were the strangest thing in the world. Yet she suspected, no, knew, that in a few days, it would be pulled.


    And everyone would begin to forget again.


    Of course, she had bigger problems than just that.


    "You are grounded, Young Lady!" said Mom.


    "But Mom-" began Kiyora.


    "I told you not to go into anything dangerous, and you directly ignored me!" said Mom.


    "But I wasn''t even looking for the Black Star when the spiders attacked," said Kiyora. "I was just checking out the mall with Laurus and Tenius!"


    "I don''t want to hear it!" said Mom. "For the next week, you aren''t going anywhere except school! Now go to your room!"


    "I hate you!" shouted Kiyora before storming upstairs.


    She threw herself onto the bed and looked up at the ceiling. As she did, she remembered how she had reacted to seeing those people bound up in silk. Why had she responded that way? It had been horrible beyond description. Yet it had gotten her far more interested than she would have liked to believe.


    Did she have a kink for that kind of thing? What did that say about her? She hadn''t reacted the same way with Wraith. But then Wraith had been pure cruelty. There was none of the physical element.


    Why did none of this seem real?!


    On a whim, she picked up the phone and made a call. Laurus picked up. "Who is it?"


    "Hey, Laurus," said Kiyora, "is everything alright?"


    "I''m fine," said Laurus. "No one would care if I got home late. However, Dad was pretty pissed at me for not bringing the wine. He uh... never mind. How did your Mom take it?"


    "I''m grounded," said Kiyora. "Something has been bugging me, and I wanted to talk to you first."


    "What is it?" asked Laurus.


    "Why did no one die when Laughing Wraith possessed the entire city?" asked Kiyora.


    "Why are you asking me that?" asked Laurus. "Would you rather someone had died?" There was an edge in his tone.


    "No!" said Kiyora. "But... look, I''ve seen how he operated in the dream world, okay. What he did here was tame in comparison. Did you hold him back or something?"


    "The city wasn''t as deep in his power as it could have been," admitted Laurus. "But no, I didn''t. You''ve got to understand we were kind of the same being. His mind occupied the same space as my mind. One minute I''d be doing something normal, then he''d manifest and make me do something.


    "Even so, I... I don''t think it even occurred to him to try killing anyone. Me going after you with a shotgun was my idea."


    "But that isn''t anything like the Wraith in the dream world," said Kiyora. "Even if he didn''t kill people, he mutilated them horribly. But no one was even seriously hurt."


    "I don''t mean it didn''t occur to him to do something horrible," said Laurus. "I mean in the sense of... how do I say it? Okay, when you are late for school, it doesn''t occur to you to sprout wings and fly there, does it?"


    "No," said Kiyora. "Why would it?"


    "It wouldn''t," said Laurus. "Because that is not something you can just do. Not without powerful magic, anyway. So because it is an ingrained limitation, you don''t think about straining it."


    "Are you saying that Laughing Wraith could not kill people?" asked Kiyora. That was just weird.


    "No," said Laurus. "I''m saying he seemed to regard it as something he couldn''t do. Not here, anyway. It infuriated him to no end."


    "So then, what was he trying to do?" asked Kiyora.


    "Wraith didn''t make plans," said Laurus. "He just did stuff. His ideal world was a universe where everyone was stuck in a perpetual nightmare. Unable to wake up or die.


    "A universe without death. A universe of perpetual misery," He paused. "And on that pleasant note, I''m going to bed. Sweet dreams."


    "Okay," said Kiyora. "Good night." She hung up, set down the phone, and leaned back on her pillow. She decided she''d deal with the dream world for now. "Okay, okay, so where was I? Right, there was that whole playing the sides thing. Okay, I think I''d better get a second opinion on all this."


    She had trouble getting to sleep. The day''s events still bothered her. When eventually she drifted off, she found herself in a training field. There she saw William, holding his sword and shield, clad in his black skull armor.


    "Hey, Will-" began Kiyora. Then she noticed Raynald De Chevlon rushing at him. "Oh, you''re busy."


    Raynald was clad in bright armor. The steel ring he always wore on the finger of his withered arm shone over mail-clad fingers. He surged at William and struck with a serrated blade. William defended against a flurry of one-armed blows, holding his well. Kiyora sighed.


    "Right," she said, "I''ll just sit here and wait while you two go at it."


    And she looked around to realize she was standing in the courtyard of the palace of Arsheen. There was an audience as well. The Lady Azgora and her retainers were watching the fight by a pavilion. Her golden hair was tied behind her head. She was clad in her silver armor. Duke Vanion was also there, clad in a blow cloak that concealed his body. William''s younger siblings, the twins Soren and Calgora, were held by servants nearby.


    Kiyora walked to the Duke. Vanion nodded to her. "Dreaming Goddess, you return."


    "Yes," said Kiyora. "What is going on?"


    "I think your powers of perception are sufficient to understand that much," said Vanion.


    Kiyora turned back to the fight. William was circling as Raynald continued his offensive. William kept the shield up, and none of Raynald''s strikes were getting through. Kiyora looked to Azgora. "Raynald fights William all the time. What''s the big deal?" sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I have been instructing William to use his shield," said Azgora. "It is my hope he will finally defeat Witherarm."


    "You should not name him, so, Azgora," said Vanion.


    "I despise him, and the feeling is returned," said Azgora. "Were it not for you, we would surely have killed the other."


    Kiyora looked back to the fight. It was going on much as expected. William seemed to be playing defensively. "This is boring. All he''s doing is defending."


    "That was my idea," said Vanion. "Raynald has only one good arm, so he cannot teach William to use a shield. Thus it fell to Azgora to instruct him in the art. Since she had other duties, she needed more time. So William was primarily trained in Raynald''s aggressive one-handed style.


    "He uses it on reflex. I suggested he attempt a more defensive strategy to tire Raynald out."


    "So do you think he''ll beat him?" asked Kiyora.


    Raynald lashed out and, this time, caught the edge of William''s shield with the serrations of his blade. With a wrist movement, he knocked the shield wide and then twisted his weapon around. William parried the initial blow and several more, but Raynald gave him no time to recover. He was driven back in a flurry of lightning-fast blows, then lost his footing and fell. In an instant, Raynald''s sword was at his throat. The ring on Raynald''s withered ceased to glow.


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    "That ring on Raynald''s finger," said Kiyora. "What is it? Is it magical?"


    "That?" asked Vanion. "I don''t know. He always wears it, however. I''ve never seen him without it. Not even when we were boys; it must be magical if it grew with his fingers."


    The silence held for a moment. Raynald sheathed his sword and drew off his helm to reveal his scarred and evil-looking face. However, it might have been handsome and rogueish without all the marks. "Well done, William," he said. "Seathorius and Khasmir have done wonders for your skill."


    "It doesn''t seem to have helped me much against you," said William as he stood up.


    "Well, I am the greatest swordsman ever to live, so that is to be expected," said Raynald. "Still, I almost took that contest seriously. You should be proud."


    Azgora stood and approached William. "Your defense is too static. You did not use enough footwork and became complacent. You would have paid for it with your life in true battle."


    "None of my other students can match him yet," said Raynald. "Well, except Tanith. But she''s older and has more experience. You might show the boy some respect."


    "I would see you continue to improve yourself," said Azgora. "Felix, bring us spears."


    Felix came from the sidelines carrying two spears. Raynald''s expression darkened. But Azgora paid him no more notice. He sheathed his blade and stalked over to stand on the sidelines.


    "Why does Lady Azgora hate Raynald so much?" whispered Kiyora to Felix.


    "Azgora considers physical disabilities a sign of moral weakness," said Felix. "A sort of curse bestowed by the gods. She''s suspected that-" He paused. "Why am I telling you this? You''ve been coming in and out for months; how is it possible you don''t know this?"


    "Eh, I don''t pay all that much attention to things I''m not interested in," said Kiyora. "Plus, I haven''t talked with Lady Azgora yet."


    Felix paused. "Well, in any case, Lady Azgora hates Raynald because he has a withered arm. Raynald, on the other hand, is the swordmaster for Duke Vanion. He trains the troops in whatever stronghold he is in.


    "The catch is that because of his withered arm; he can''t train wall infantry."


    "Wall infantry?" asked Kiyora.


    "Okay, there are two kinds of infantry," said Felix. "Wall infantry and mobile infantry. Wall infantry form a shield wall with spears and hold the enemy army in place. Mobile infantry fight in melee and are meant to flank and outmaneuver the enemy. Raynald is one of the greatest swordsmen in Harlenor, but he can''t use a shield, so he can only train mobile infantry." He paused. "Didn''t Azgora tell you about this a few months ago?"


    "She did?" asked Kiyora. "Oh, right, I forgot."


    Felix sighed. "Lady Azgora takes charge of training wall infantry because of that. And she''s very good at him, but it is a mark of shame that he has to have her fill in for him, and it reminds him of his disability. So Raynald hates her because of that."


    "I always figured it was because she was always calling him-" began Kiyora.


    "Don''t say it," hissed Felix in an urgent tone.


    "What?" said Kiyora.


    "Azgora is the only person allowed to say that. Anyone else dies," said Felix. "In Antion, a couple of nobles used the insult on him and ended up dead in duels. Their friends all ganged up on him and tried to murder him, and he killed all of them too. After that, Raynald was commanded to leave the city, and people stopped mentioning it.


    "They call it the two-hour massacre.


    "Raynald only tolerates it from Azgora because she is Vanion''s wife. And because she is one of the few people who can match him in a fight."


    "Who won?" asked Kiyora.


    "When they fought?" asked Felix. "Vanion broke it up before a victor could emerge, but I''d put my money on Lady Azgora."


    "Why?" asked Kiyora.


    "She can use a shield and is stronger," said Felix. "It would be her battle to lose."


    Kiyora turned her attention back to William''s fight with Azgora. However, it was more of a stalemate. Both circled the other, looking for weaknesses. Every so often, they would clash, and William would end up the worse off. "William isn''t doing very well, is he?"


    "No, he is not," said Felix. "He doesn''t have as much practice with a spear and shield."


    The fight halted suddenly when two children started crying. Kiyora looked up and realized that all the fighting had woken up the children. Azgora halted her battle and stood up straight.


    "Your brother and sister desire to be fed," said Azgora. "I will attend to them."


    "Why is she taking her children to watch combat training?" asked Kiyora.


    "Lady Azgora believes that war is the ultimate purpose of existence," said Felix. "She wants her children to experience it as soon as possible."


    "Yeah, but she sheltered William, didn''t she?" asked Kiyora.


    "It is a cultural thing, I think," said Felix. "In Lady Azgora''s homeland of Themious, men are treated as property and regarded as weak. Azgora likes that men in Harlenor are competent. But she was somewhat conflicted regarding how she should treat William.


    "Or so I assume. This is largely theory.


    "Is there a particular reason you are here?"


    "Oh, see, the High Elves are planning to invade Seathorius, and they want my help to wipe out the satyrs," said Kiyora. "But I don''t trust them any more than I trust Arraxia. So I offered Arraxia an alliance, and I''ve started playing both sides to try and get the best deal.


    "Sort of a policy of enlightened self-interest."


    "That makes sense," said Felix. "And you intend to ask Duke Vanion for help?"


    "Yes," said Kiyora.


    "Want my advice?" asked Felix.


    "Sure, I guess," admitted Kiyora.


    "You don''t want either of them to win. The status quo is to your benefit," said Felix. "The best end for you is one where both sides fail to achieve anything. If Arraxia destroys the elven armies, she''ll want to invade Qor''Dana. If the Elves defeat Arraxia, they''ll want to extend their influence over the Nakmar.


    "King Andoa has spent most of his life trying to fix relations with the High Elves and has largely succeeded. He won''t throw that away to save a bunch of dwarves. The Nakmar will end up being vassals in your lands."


    "Right," said Kiyora. "And why are you going behind Duke Vanion''s back to tell me this?"


    "Duke Vanion would agree with me," said Felix. "He doesn''t want anyone to gain total dominance over Seathorius as long as he can use Savior''s Run for his ends. Also, I''ve invested in some business ventures in Seathorius. Wine. The satyrs sell it to the Otters, who sell it to my men, who then sell it in Artarq.


    "If the Elves genocide the satyrs? No more wine. If the satyrs become the dominant power in Seathorius? They start making war on their neighbors. No more wine."


    "What exactly are you doing with the money you make from all this?" asked Kiyora.


    "Make more money," said Felix. "Though I use a large portion of it in the service of Duke Vanion. I''m hoping to pay for the army."


    "For what?" asked Kiyora.


    "For war, obviously," said Felix. "The raishan crisis ended just before a new wave of mercenaries arrived in Artarq. We''ve put them to work, weeding out the remnants of the raishans. But there is no loot to be gained from that, so we have to pay them somehow.


    "Duke Vanion also wants to keep them around for a bit. I''m not sure why."


    "What are you trying to gain by all this?" Kiyora was curious.


    "Aside from more money?" said Felix with a smile. "It ingratiates me to Duke Vanion, and Duke Vanion is becoming more powerful daily."


    "Right. Hey, thanks for the help Felix," said Kiyora. "I''m going to go make plans right away."


    And she teleported away.


    Arraxia was not lounging when Kiyora found her. She was in the throne room of Baltoth''s Retribution. And she was hanging from the ceiling by her tail, which had wrapped around the chandelier. Her eyes were closed, and she had grown wings. Said wings were now veiled around her like those of a bat when sleeping.


    When Kiyora approached, her eyes opened, and the wings disappeared. Arraxia crossed her arms and stretched her neck."Well, I see you''ve come back. What is it you want now?"


    "Oh, nothing," said Kiyora. "I just thought I''d tell you I talked to Queen Dawn of the High Elves. She says she''ll give me the western half of Savior''s Run to do as I will if I help her conquer you."


    "And you trust her to honor her word?" asked Arraxia.


    "I trust her about as much as I trust you," admitted Kiyora. "Anyway, I kind of like her offer. It''ll give me much more land, and I won''t have to worry about you scheming anymore."


    "You''re trying to pressure me into making concessions," noted Arraxia. "It won''t work."


    "Oh, I don''t want any concessions," said Kiyora. "I just want our earlier agreement with only one tiny change. I want to be in charge."


    "And why would I want to let you command my armies?" asked Arraxia.


    "It''s in your best interests as well," said Kiyora with a shrug. "If you were in command, the elves could tell Antion that they are fighting an evil demon. If I''m in command, they are just launching unprovoked aggression."


    "...As you wish, my dear Kiyora," said Arraxia.


    Then she dropped down from the chandelier and made a perfect three-point landing. "I shall indulge you. You will be given joint control of Baltoth''s Retribution. And my armies shall fight alongside yours, and you will be in command. With the understanding that if you fail, I will take command and will not be questioned."


    "Kay," said Kiyora. "Now, let''s get down to business. What would you suggest we do to defeat their invasion?"


    "Well, provided I can fix Baltoth''s Retribution, I planned to shift the terrain. The elves will walk right into an ambush," said Arraxia. "Then we can slaughter them all."


    "Right, I like it," said Kiyora. "Just one change. How about we use Baltoth''s Retribution to waste the elves'' time until they get bored and go home?"


    "You''re joking," said Arraxia in deadpan.


    "You used the castle to direct William here, didn''t you?" asked Kiyora. "All we have to do is keep them running around in circles until they get so sick of it that they quit the field."


    "Elves enjoy music," said Arraxia. "I''m not sure it is physically possible for them to become bored."


    "Don''t worry," said Kiyora, "you always bore me."


    "Adorable," said Arraxia. "I do not like this plan. It would leave their army intact. I think I''d much rather just kill them all. More dead elves could only improve the universe."


    "Well, too bad," said Kiyora. "I don''t want a reputation as a Dark Lord, so we''re going to humiliate them a little. We have to use this castle."


    "Yes, and there lies the problem," said Arraxia, tail flicking around her. "Baltoth''s Retribution is quite inoperable."


    "Oh," said Kiyora. "So, how do we fix it?"


    "Melchious managed to get it operating by forcing me to bind my spirit to it," said Arraxia. "I''m certainly not going to do that again. I only just escaped from this castle; I''m not going back. But without being bound up in it, I''m having great trouble controlling the landscape.


    "The kind of precise misdirection I used against William is simply impossible. So unless we can find a way to regain that control, we''ll have to use my plan of killing them all."


    "Okay, okay, so we''ll mobilize the Nakmar and the satyrs and get them ready for war just in case," said Kiyora. "Now, how do we fix it?"


    "I lack the raw power to control Baltoth''s Retribution," admitted Arraxia reluctantly. "Not without merging with it. You might possess that power, but you have no experience. If we join your power with my skill, we might achieve what you want to do."


    "So how do we do that?" asked Kiyora.


    Arraxia motioned, and part of the wall receded to reveal a passageway. With a strut of her hips, she made her way to the passage. Turning, she beckoned to Kiyora with one finger. "Follow me."

 Chapter Seven: The Bloodless War

    Most of Baltoth''s Retribution was plain and unassuming. Yes, the outside appearance was very impressive. But as soon as you went inside, it had always been without adornment. Yet this passage led into a room altogether different. The walls in this place were forged of crystal.


    Looking into the walls showed Kiyora''s reflection wherever she walked. Yet it wasn''t entirely her reflection. She saw herself as she could have been had she made different choices. Some were insignificant. Too much ice cream led to her being a bit chubby. Others were horrible. She saw a version of herself with a haunted look in her eyes. Looking deeper, she saw that this version of herself had killed Laurus.


    How had she managed that? He''d had a shotgun.


    But they were illusions. She was who she was. Her free will had made the choices she had made. What she was looking at were not realities but potential realities. Things that might have been but were not.


    As they went lower, the crystals gave way to images on the walls. She saw pictures of Dust Elves. They were forging a mighty Empire. Many gates connected them so they could easily move their armies to and fro. Only the High Elves could rival them.


    Then came Elranor and Baltoth. Two gods who were each the other''s archenemy. Yet both had spelled the downfall of a great elven empire. First, Elranor had come to engineer the destruction of the High Elves. Then Baltoth had come to take the Dust Elven empire for himself.


    And finally, they emerged into a dark hall with gothic pillars rising to the ceiling. At the center was an altar, and above that altar was a single colossal crystal hovering. It was taller than Kiyora and a good deal more expansive, and it glowed with a clear light that illuminated the chamber.


    "Wow, this place is nice," said Kiyora. "Why''d they build it so far underground?"


    "This room is the heart of Baltoth''s Retribution," said Arraxia. "The center of the magic. It survived my victory, and now I have used it to repair the castle."


    "Victory?" asked Kiyora. "You lost."


    "No, I didn''t," snapped Arraxia. "I manipulated everyone and nearly killed my former Master Melchious. A masterstroke that gained me full power over Seathorius."


    "Sure," said Kiyora. "Then William got you to look into the Mirror of Laevian, stabbed you in the chest, and dropped a castle on your head."


    "None of which would have prevented me from killing both of you," noted Arraxia. "If you''ll recall, I was quite unfazed. However, I had mercy and spared your lives."


    "''Unphased'' is not the word I''d use," said Kiyora as they reached the crystal. "And feeling someone is too much trouble to be worth killing does not count as mercy."


    "Yes, you have a firm grasp of meaningless technicalities," said Arraxia. "Now, perhaps we can get down to business. Put your hand upon that crystal as I do." She reached out for the crystal, and Kiyora mirrored the motion. Finally, both were touching it.


    "Now what?" asked Kiyora.


    "Now, you must focus your will through it," said Arraxia. "You''ll know when you manage it."


    Kiyora obeyed, and she did know. She could see everything in Seathorius. Everything from the mightiest tree to the most insignificant gnat was before her. And it was within her power to influence them all. Not directly, but she could set her will for or against them. Drive one to do this or do that. Turn the mind of one thing against another.


    "Wow, this is amazing," said Kiyora.


    "Yes, it''s all very impressive," said Arraxia. "The Dust Elves always were talented sorcerers. Still, there is the matter at hand. As you can see, the elves are already moving against us."


    Kiyora didn''t see. She focused on it and gradually became aware of the high elves. Clad in white mail, the High Elves crossed over to the Nakmars side of the river. Kiyora blinked in surprise.


    "What? But why?" asked Kiyora, "I haven''t even told them no yet."


    "They approached you assuming you were an easily manipulated, naive imbecile. They were correct, of course. But I got to you first," said Arraxia. "No doubt, as soon as you started asking questions, they realized you would take my side. Thus mobilized their forces."


    "Right, so what do we do?" asked Kiyora.


    "I was under the impression that you were meant to be in command, dear?" said Arraxia.


    "Oh, right," said Kiyora. "Um, when they land, we''ll shift the landscape so they can''t get off the shore."


    "That would be far too obvious and easily broken," mused Arraxia. "If someone puts enough willpower into it, they can force a path through Seathorius. Assuming they know they are being led on. No, we must choose a more careful approach. Let me guide you."


    The elves landed, and Kiyora allowed her spirit to be guided by Arraxia''s. Yet to her surprise, the demoness was speeding the progress of the elves as they rushed into the woods. "You''re letting them move in quickly?"


    "Yes, I am speeding their progress," said Arraxia. "And yet, at the same time, we are turning their path away from their right road. Now observe this..."


    Kiyora found her will be drawn to the villages of satyrs. She saw Doltier and many others of his kind heading toward the elves from every direction. "You''re moving your satyrs? We had an agreement."


    "We won''t attack. No, the satyrs will merely make them believe they are getting near," said Arraxia. "Watch; now that they have seen my subjects, they will assume they are near."


    The elves caught sight of the satyrs and shot their bows at them. Yet they hit nothing. Emboldened, they pursued relentlessly. They didn''t realize that they were being drawn further and further inland.


    "This is way too easy for them."


    "Yes, it is likely only a matter of time before the elves realize something is wrong," said Arraxia. "You see, as long as they were near the river, they had spirits who might have interceded on their behalf. Now they are advancing too quickly for their own good. But we must keep them under their delusions of superiority until it is too late."


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    Night fell upon the land, then morning again as the hunt continued. "How are things happening so quickly," asked Kiyora.


    "When working with Baltoth''s Retribution, time moves more quickly," said Arraxia. "You see the world as the spirits of stone see them. I''ll tell you it was quite irritating when I first got it.


    "By now, they''ve run out of initial supplies and realized they are quite lost. And here comes the issue. We will soon feel the pressure of their wills working against ours to escape Seathorius. Here it comes."


    She felt them. They were wills of iron. It was a sharp stabbing pain in her mind as the elves realized their folly and tried to retreat. But she fought it back, forcing it back on them. "Ow. That hurts." They tried again.


    "Yes, some are stronger-willed, aren''t they?" asked Arraxia. "Hold fast, victory is nearly ours."


    Day after day went by as Arraxia and Kiyora strove with the elves. No one died, but the elves wandered aimlessly and devoid of direction. Hunger began to take hold of them.


    "My satyrs are closing in around them, and the Nakmar march with them," said Arraxia.


    "Nakmar?" said Kiyora, and she saw that this was true. "But I never told the Nakmar I wanted them to ally with the satyrs."


    "Really?" asked Arraxia. "You must have a remarkable hold over them, then; I am impressed. At any rate, would you care to ask for their surrender? Or shall I slaughter the elves to the man?"


    "Hang on," said Kiyora.


    She withdrew her hand, and the spell was broken. But looking at the crystal, she saw that it had changed color. It now swirled with power. Both the blue light of the Dreaming Goddess and the violet fire of Arraxia surged in equal strength. They intermingled and gradually became one. Kiyora transported herself to the Nakmar. To her surprise, she found King Houndslasher himself there. He was dressed in battle armor and held a massive axe in two hands. As she appeared, they bowed to her.


    "King Houndslasher, what are you doing here?" asked Kiyora.


    "We came when we called," said Houndslasher. "All of us felt compelled to join forces with the satyrs against the common elvish enemy. I had my doubts, of course, but we obey you without question."


    "Right, great," said Kiyora. "Creepy." She muttered under her breath as she approached the satyrs. "You, Doltier, right?"


    The albino satyr looked at her with narrowed eyes. "I serve the great demoness you call Arraxia."


    "Right, okay, so if this thing comes to battle, what are our chances?" asked Kiyora.


    "Very good," said Doltier. "They ran out of food three days ago, and we''ve given them no time to rest. I only haven''t slaughtered them because my mistress commands otherwise. I expect you have something to do with that." His tone was bitter.


    "Well, don''t you seem disappointed," said Kiyora.


    "I''ve wanted to eat an elf for years, and I''m not alone," said Doltier. "Lord Melchious would have let us feast."


    "Well, Melchious isn''t here," said Kiyora. "And I''m going to ask their surrender so someone gets me a white flag, will ya?"


    She looked to the elven force. Their shining mail could have been more shining. Their clothes were dirty, and they looked exhausted. They had formed a defensive ring and were hemmed in on all sides.


    As the white flag was raised, their leader came forth. Kiyora went to meet him. He was tall, even for a High Elf, and had thinner cheeks than most. His hair was long and brown, and his eyes silver.


    Kiyora gave him a friendly wave. "Hi. You''re in trouble," she said. "You''re out of provisions. Dwarves and satyrs surround you, and the latter want to eat you. And if you start a fight now, they will. I''d love to stop them, but satyrs are hard to control at the best of times.


    "If it comes to a battle, I''ll bet they''ll tie the prisoners to spits and roast you over a slow fire. Assuming they don''t just eat you good and raw while you''re still alive." S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I am General Evensen," said the elf. "State your terms, witch."


    "You give us your word; you will leave our lands and never pull this stunt again," said Kiyora. "In exchange, we give you food and let you leave without any bloodshed. Oh, and you have to leave your weapons and armor behind; I don''t want you walking through my lands with swords."


    Evensen paused and eyed his enemies. "Give us time to convene to discuss the matter."


    "Sure, whatever," said Kiyora. "But don''t take too long. I don''t think I can control my friends much longer." She walked back, whistling to where Houndslasher stood. "Do you think they are stalling?"


    "They are out of food," said Houndslasher. "They can''t stall long. Just keep an eye out for any relieving force."


    A few tense minutes passed. Kiyora passed them, admiring the scenery and talking with the trees. Then Doltier looked up and pointed. "Look!"


    Kiyora saw that Evensen was coming back. The white flag was raised again. She walked to meet him, hands in her pockets and a deliberate spring in her step. Houndslasher and Doltier went with her.


    "We will yield to you," said the elf. "But, we will only give our weapons to you on the banks of the river."


    "Fair enough," said Kiyora with a kind smile. "Start walking."


    "We don''t know the way," said Evensen.


    "Houndslasher, get some guides to lead them to the river. And see them fed," said Kiyora. Then she walked up to Doltier and spoke in a lower voice. "Doltier, keep your men close and make sure to lick your lips every so often. Make them think you and your men are hungry."


    "We are hungry," snapped Doltier.


    "Just do it," said Kiyora before turning to Houndslasher and speaking louder. "Escort them to the rive and make sure no one dies. Get them to give you their weapons and armor when you get there. Then feed them, ferry them across, and give them a stern warning."


    "We should let them give us their weapons and armor, then slaughter them," whispered Doltier.


    "No," said Kiyora, looking to the Nakmar. "If Doltier tries anything like that, you and your warriors are to defend the elves. When the swords and armor had been given to you, you''ll split them evenly with the satyrs. Now I''ve got to go check back with Arraxia."


    She disappeared and reappeared to find Arraxia sitting cross-legged on the floor. Her tail was wrapped around the crystal above her, but her attention was on a book she read. "Is that William''s sequel?"


    "Yes," said Arraxia. "I must say I find it to be an entirely inferior product. I don''t appear nearly enough, and I always focus on people I have no reason to care about."


    "You do know that he is writing his experiences, don''t you," said Kiyora. "Not yours."


    "Well, he might write some that interest me," said Arraxia. "And the prose is terrible. He uses far too many elaborate words when smaller ones will do the trick. Not to mention that he is always making his sentences far too long. I''m amazed that anyone can take him seriously.


    "Things seem to be going well."


    "Yeah, yeah, I get it," said Kiyora. "They would be going much better if Doltier and his warriors weren''t set on eating the elves. I think we''re better make sure the elves aren''t plotting anything."


    "Well, it appears that the elves are quite defeated," said Arraxia, glancing up at the crystal. "And without a single casualty too. I cannot understand why we did not slaughter them before they surrendered."


    "I''d have thought you''d have wanted to kill them after they surrendered," said Kiyora.


    "Don''t belittle my superior nature. My word is my bond," said Arraxia. "If I am known as an oathbreaker, then people will be unwilling to negotiate with me. Better to take a few casualties in a fair battle than to ruin my reputation. Being able to make deals is an essential part of power."


    Kiyora put her hand to the crystal and observed. The elves were escorted back to the river over a few days. They were given food, which they wolfed down hungrily. Then they surrendered their weapons at the banks. Then they crossed over without further incident. A first-class humiliation, if ever there was one. The Nakmar and the Satyrs split the loot and walked off.


    "The elves have all been ferried across," said Kiyora. "The Nakmar and satyrs have gone their separate ways. Okay, I''m done. I''m waking up now." She took her hand off the crystal.


    "Really?" said Arraxia in surprise. "Wouldn''t you rather make a speech about the power of friendship?"


    "Friendship?" said Kiyora. "This is realpolitik."


    "Truthfully, I don''t see the difference," admitted Arraxia. "Do give my regards to Rioletta."


    Before Kiyora could ask what she meant by that, the world faded. Kiyora awoke in her bed. But when she opened her eyes, she found a black shadow looming over her. The window was open, and leering down at her was Rioletta.


    Kiyora opened her mouth, but a hand was put to her mouth as the demoness threw off her cover and began to spin her. Kiyora struggled, but she could feel the silk creeping up her body. It went over her knees, then her thighs, as her legs were bound behind her. The silk rose higher and higher until it was coming up her neck. The hand was removed from her mouth, and she had time to scream for help before she was cocooned in darkness.

 Chapter Eight: The Flower of Torment

    It was dark in this place. William could hear moans of agony.


    William Gabriel sat up from a sleep he did not remember taking and found himself in his armor. His sword was at his side, and he was lying on his shield in a very uncomfortable way. Pulling himself up, he looked around.


    This was not Arsheen. He suspected it was not even his world.


    It looked more like Kiyora''s world with walls of living wood. He stood in a small, circular room illuminated by brought violet crystals. There seemed to be a strange shadow over the place, however. It was like the world was being filtered through a lens of agony.


    He looked for a door but couldn''t find one. He could see what seemed like an altar. There were many crystals set into it gleaming.


    He set one hand to it. The crystals shone, and an image appeared. It was of a woman with yellow hair, clad in a strange uniform. "Captain Altrus'' log: Day 1 of the Black Star''s first mission."


    "We''ve set out from Actovosh with the experimental ship. They said that this vessel would be a bit weird, but that doesn''t do it justice. I''m afraid something will jump out at me every moment I''m on the bridge. The halls always seem to shift, and I swear I keep seeing things.


    "I feel like I''m being hunted. I know it''s not rational.


    "Alchara above, I''ll be glad when I''m done with this trip."


    "Some kind of record?" guessed William aloud. "Except it records speech instead of ink. All of this is far too strange. This is some ship, I suppose. However, it is nothing like any vessel I''ve seen.


    "I can''t find out anything more here."


    He found an area that might have been a door. It was a point where there was a circular crack. He pushed on it, but it did not yield. There was nothing to pull on. The light from the crystals hardly reached here, and he couldn''t see very well. He stepped back and raised a hand.


    Then he spoke an incantation of power, summoning the light of the sun spirit to his aid. Nothing happened. He tried again, and there was no response. After several more times, he realized the truth. He was in Kiyora''s world; there was no good reason he would be able to summon the power of his world''s sun.


    William sighed and leaned against the wall. He must have pressed something because what he had taken to be a door slid aside. Beyond the threshold, he saw cocoons. Dozens and dozens of cocoons were hanging from ceilings or forced against walls. Yet unlike normal cocoons, he could see every feature of those bound within them. He could even see the agonized looks on their faces.


    He walked in and then heard a scuttling sound. He turned and saw a vast spider going toward him. It spewed silk from its mandibles, and he raised his shield just in time to stop it. The silk wrapped around his guard and seemed to writhe its way toward his hand. He let go of the defense and threw it aside.


    Taking his sword in two hands, he brought it down on the spider. The blade cut straight through the beast''s carapace and sank into its head. It spasmed and then died. The body faded into the wood, leaving only a smudge of black blood. It was no spider but a formation of unholy magic.


    William drew out the sword and then raised his shield. He tried to pry off the threads but only got his sword stuck. After a few wrenching moments, he''d only gotten more tangled in it. So he stopped.


    He sensed that same malaise from the threads. There was unholy magic in them. Before he could think, the threads came to life. They began to creep up his arms. William wrestled with the sticky stuff as it came up closer. Dark shapes arose around him, horrors he had forgotten. Or horrors he had never met. He channeled the power of Elranor, and the threads recoiled from him and crumbled.


    Retrieving his sword and shield, he looked at the cocoons. William had to free them. He could not leave these people here within the silk. Drawing out his harp, he began to play.


    His music resounded around him and set itself against the silk. Yet it was like he was pressing his hands against an iron wall. He could not break the enchantment no matter how he pushed and tore against it with his mind. It resisted him, and whenever a scratch was made, some force arose to heal it.


    William kept at it for some minutes. Yet finally, he ceased playing his music. There was no helping it. With the Goldenwood Harp, he might have broken this enchantment. But it was no longer his.


    Yet something else awoke. Or so William felt. He glanced around, expecting to see eyes on him. Yet as far as he could tell, the only living thing with him in this place was the cocoons. At a loss, he looked around for a way out. At least it was better lit here, and he found another door. Feeling around, he found a switch and pressed it.


    The door slid open, and he found more cocoons in a hall. It was a hall lined with more cocoons, and it gave him chills to walk it. He tried to keep his eyes off those agonized faces. Looking at them felt strange and not only from horror. He found a sick appeal to gazing at them, and he did not like it.


    "This is why I hate demons," he muttered. "Looking at their handiwork makes you think like them. Why did Kiyora call me out here like this? What good am I here? And where is she anyway? She usually is obvious about why she drags me around. Or at least she was last time. It had only happened once before."


    He stopped as he came to a corner and saw a line of spiders. Dozens of them. On their backs was another cocoon. Yet the features of this one were familiar, and he saw a faint light coming from her.


    "...Kiyora," he said. "What happened? She must have been seized and called me on reflex. But I can''t fight all those." He tailed after them, hoping to see some of them break off.


    As he walked after them, he found his eyes drawn to how the silk clung to every curve on her body. The sudden focus he had on it disturbed him. He shut it out as best he could and focused on the number of spiders.


    None of them broke off in the end. They kept a close formation and made their way up a winding stair of living wood, down the hall, and through a door. But as William came after them, the door rolled shut. He found the switch and pressed it, but there was no response.


    Once again, he felt that presence. A sense as though something was here. But that something did not seem evil. If it was, it could have alerted the spiders.


    He supposed he should find a safe place. But he knew nothing of this strange ship. Or anything within it anywhere could be safe or dangerous, and he''d never know. So he moved away from the door and around the corner, sat down, and thought. "Alright, William, you can''t prevail here by force of arms, so think," he muttered. "I need to find some way to contact the outside world if I can. They may be able to help me."


    Provided there was an outside world. If this were another world, Kiyora had been taken to; this could be the whole thing. Then he felt that same presence again. It seemed to be striving with something. William felt annoyed and looked up to where he sensed it. "You, who are you?"


    The presence overcame whatever it was struggling with. "...Follow..." The voice was almost a whisper and was said with pain. Saying just that took considerable effort.


    "I asked you a question:" said William. "Who are you?"


    "Black... Star... I once was..." gasped the presence with pain. "Now, no more... no more..."


    "Are you the spirit in command of this place?" guessed William.


    "...Follow..." gasped Black Star, "they are coming..."


    Then it receded. And William realized he had no choice but to follow. "Damn."


    He followed as best he could. Black Star led him on through this strange realm''s winding and twisting halls, lower and lower. As they did so, the threads became ever thicker around them. William came to a place where the threads were drawn before the hall Black Star would lead him down.


    Drawing out his harp, he played the music of Elranor to try and dispel the magic within. But whenever he did so more unholy magic came from the rest of the silk. He could not break the entire enchantment. Putting away his harp beneath his cloak, William drew out his sword.


    An idea occurred. He tried to channel the power of Elranor through the blade. It was hard, but little by little, he managed to raise the power. He brought the sword down, but as he swung, the spell dispersed, and the blade was turned.


    He tried again, and this time he managed to cut a thread. He tried again and once again failed. It took a lot of miserable work to get through. As he hacked and channeled yet more power, William felt a horrible headache coming on. What if spiders came by this place? Could he fend them off? The power of these chants was horrible.


    Finally, the last thread was cut, and he walked on through. He nearly collapsed from exhaustion while following Black Star. Why was it so hard to put the power of Elranor into a sword? When he played music, it came easily, but this had nearly broken him.


    Black Star opened a door, and William entered it. The door shut, and he was left in what appeared to be a garden. Golden crystals shone down on bright green turf. Trees were growing around him, or perhaps part of a single tree. At the center of the room was a clear pool of water, and he collapsed by it.


    "...Stay..." said Black Star, "stay here... safe here..."


    "What are these creatures?" asked William.


    "Demons..." said Black Star, "raishans... spider demons... servants of... servants of..." His voice went high with terror.


    For a few minutes, Black Star fell silent. William said nothing and removed his helmet. He pulled himself over to the pool and drank and washed away the sweat.


    Then he rested.


    When he felt a bit better, he looked up to Black Star. "What is this place?"


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    "Black Star..." said Black Star, "within... within me..."


    William wondered if he meant this entire place or merely the room with the pool. Before he could ask, an image appeared in the pool beneath him. It showed Captain Altrus from before, speaking with an elf with a long beard.


    "Endion, has there been any sign of the missing crewmembers?" asked Captain Altrus.


    "No ma''am," said Endion. "We''ve scanned the entire ship, but Black Star isn''t picking up any life signs. It''s like they just disappeared."


    "They can''t have," said Altrus. "If they were dead, we should have detected it. Alright, keep scanning the area. I don''t want anyone going anywhere alone. Keep a weapon on you at all times and..."


    There was a noise of scurrying. Altrust whirled around, a blade in her hand. "What was that?"


    "I don''t know," said Endion. "Be careful."


    The vision faded.


    "Rioletta..." said Black Star. "Rioletta did this..."


    "Rioletta?" asked William. "The Goddess of Fate?" Why would she have taken physical form here? What could be so important?


    "Spider... spider demoness..." murmured Black Star. "Unholy. Holds... holds my will... Cannot disobey her..."


    "Rioletta has enslaved you?" asked William, feeling a sense of pity for Black Star. And what was the Goddess of Fate doing here anyway? "Yet why should she want to kidnap Kiyora?" A horrible thought came to him. "Is she going to eat her?"


    "No... not eat..." murmured Black Star. "Consume... Bind. .. Enslave... Dreamers are a source of power... Through nightmares... Rioletta will gain... gain power..."


    "Wonderful," said William. "Well, at least Kiyora won''t be killed. Is there any way I can break her hold over you?"


    "Break... hold..." Black Star paused, "No..."


    "Are you certain?" asked William. "If her hold over you is unshakable, why are you helping me?"


    "Her... will courses... through all ships of... my kind..." said Black Star. "No escape..."


    "Of your kind?" asked William.


    "I was... a fusion," said Black Star. "Cannot find... cannot find... words..."


    An image appeared of an elf with violet hair. She was very beautiful and thin, even for an elf, and William could see that she bore some resemblance to Kiyora. He wondered if she was a relative.


    "This is Dr. Hanora Dreamer of the Department of Spiritual Defense. I am reporting on the progress of Project Black Star. The Black Star is a treeship which we hope will be the first of a new generation.


    "The vessel perfectly fuses Dark Elven and Dreamer Elf technology. Like our technology, it allows the full might of a Dreamer to be used. Yet, in addition to that power, it can feed off the suffering of those within. This power increases the strength of the ship''s weaponry exponentially.


    "While prolonged use is highly immoral, it could be useful in short bursts. And with special training, a Dream Sage should be able to endure for far longer."


    The image faded.


    "Dream Sage?" asked William. "Is that what Kiyora is?"


    "Kiyora... is a potential..." Black Star paused. "Not full Dream Sage... Possesses power..."


    "I see," said William. "Why does Rioletta need her? There must have been one here."


    Hanora reappeared. This time looked furious.


    "A message to Dr. Hanora Dreamer,


    "I don''t really care how confident you are in the safety of this vessel, Alatar. Dark Elven technology is dangerous, and I intend for us to walk before we run. The maiden voyage of this vessel will be made without a Dream Sage. The crew will be trained to move it, not wield the weapons."


    Once again, it faded.


    "So Rioletta doesn''t have a Dream Sage. Kiyora mentioned something about them is essential. To weaponry on her ships," mused William. "So she went after Kiyora. What does she want to accomplish?" He remembered using one of her artifacts during the Tournament of Kings. The sensation had been strange and twisted.


    He''d never wanted to feel it again. Was Kiyora feeling that now?


    "...Many... many things..." said Black Star. "Domination... destruction... The suffering of those within... too great... could destroy... destroy everything..."


    "Very well. How can I stop her?" asked William. "Can you open the doors?"


    "You... cannot... defeat... Rioletta..." said Black Star. "Disable... cloak..."


    "Cloak?" asked William. "What cloak?"


    "The cloak... it keeps me from sight..." gasped Black Star. "Disable and the... Dreamer Elves... will find her..."


    "Can you lead me there?" asked William.


    "I... cannot break... Rioletta''s... hold..." gasped Black Star.


    "You are doing it right now," said William. "Just keep on going as you are. You must lead me to this cloak."


    Then he felt something. A splitting pain rushed through his mind, and he fell to his knees. Suddenly he could see Seathorius. And he saw Nakmar. There were dozens and dozens of Nakmar. Yet their eyes were empty, and their faces blank. It was as though their wills had been overridden. He could feel something commanding them. And that something was itself controlled.


    "Well now, the minds of these Nakmar were quite easy to override, weren''t they?" said a cheerful voice. "They truly do rely on the Dreaming Goddess, don''t they."


    "Rioletta." said a familiar voice.


    The view changed to that of a throne room. William realized he was looking through the eyes of something at Arraxia. The beautiful demoness was lounging on her throne. Her claws were clasped before her chest, and her tail flicked. "Rioletta, how have you been?"


    "Oh well enough," said Rioletta, a wide, sharp-toothed smile on her face. "I was just in the area, and dear Melchious approached me. He is quite annoyed with you, you know."


    "Oh really? Well, that is satisfying," said Arraxia. "Though I can''t see what it has to do with you being here?"


    "Oh, pay me no mind, darling," said Rioletta. "I''m merely here to claim control of Seathorius and throw you out. Melchious gave me the means to do so?"


    "Oh, I see," said Arraxia. "You captured the Dreaming Goddess in her mortal form and are using her to take control of the Nakmar. They always did rely on her a little too much."


    "You are quite perceptive as always, darling," said Rioletta. "I rather wonder why you never tried it yourself."


    "Mind control is such a crude means of manipulation," said Arraxia, examining her claw. "I use it as little as possible. Far better for my subordinates to follow me out of their designs."


    "What an adorable concept," said Rioletta. "I think I shall delight in bundling you up in silk."


    "There is no need to fight," said Arraxia.


    "Oh, but there is," said Rioletta. "I want to control Seathorius."


    "And you won''t get any control without my help," said Arraxia.


    "My, what a fascinating concept," said Rioletta. "Do tell, darling, how can you assist in a way that Melchious cannot?"


    Arraxia had told William once that female demons all had similar personalities. The reality of this set in. They had differences, but there seemed to be an archetype they both had.


    "If you didn''t know the answer, we wouldn''t have this conversation," noted Arraxia. "Melchious doesn''t want to let you control Seathorius. He merely wants you to remove me. Once you''ve done that, the satyrs will return to his worship, and you''ll have to fight him immediately."


    "Well, that does sound annoying," said Rioletta. "Satyrs aren''t any fun at all to bundle in silk. They lack the innocence of elves, so they simply don''t torment as well. Yet how could leaving you in control benefit me?"


    "We should ally," said Arraxia. "You will rule over the Nakmar and bring your spider demons into this world, and I will rule over the satyrs. We could easily keep this land from Melchious'' control with our combined strength."


    "Do you truly believe such an alliance could last, darling?" asked Rioletta doubtfully.


    "Of course, sooner or later, one of us would backstab the other; that is the way of things," said Arraxia. "But in the meantime, we''ll both be very powerful. And we can unite against Melchious and all the other people who might stand in your way."


    "That does sound rather nice," mused Rioletta. "We haven''t been united in common cause since both of us studied under Melchious."


    "Then may I give you some advice, for old times'' sakes?" asked Arraxia.


    "Of course, of course," said Rioletta.


    "A Paladin of Elranor is on your ship," said Arraxia, smiling.


    Dead silence. "What?" said Rioletta, and her smile became forced.


    "Oh yes, I tricked the Dreaming Goddess into merging her will with mine. We wanted to repulse an invasion," said Arraxia. "After you kidnapped her, I stimulated her into calling one of her servants into your domain. His name is William Gabriel, and he is quite irritating. Perhaps you know of him? "


    "Ah, I see," said Rioletta, licking her lips. "William, that delicious-looking morsel who used one of my scarves. So either he breaks my power, or I remove him from play. Very shrewd darling, very shrewd indeed."


    "Naturally, I wasn''t aware you would be reasonable," said Arraxia.


    "But of course," said Rioletta. "Tell me more of William? He has a unique feel to him. No doubt, a unique taste as well.


    "I really have wanted him for some time now, ever since your mortal form gave him that scarf. Such a delicious destiny..."


    "He''s one of those insufferable do-gooders," said Arraxia. "He was formed from a part of Melchious'' spirit and always interferes with my designs. Quite resourceful. You ought to take him seriously."


    "...Well, we''ll have to continue this discussion later, won''t we?" said Rioletta.


    "But, of course," said Arraxia.


    The vision faded. William said nothing. His presence had been given away, and his task had become much more dangerous. The door opened without a word, and William followed Black Star onward.


    This place now had an air of power as Black Star led William ever downward. The passages became narrower. The silk also became less and less common, as did the cocoons. This William found a relief. The lack of pressure on his mind helped him think.


    The walls here were different as well, however. They appeared to be inlaid with crystals that buzzed with power. He felt like he was being sapped somehow, just standing around here.


    "This place is strange," William mused. "What is different about these lower levels?"


    "Meant... for roots... not people..." said Black Star. "Elves see to... health here..."


    "Has Rioletta seen to your health?" asked William.


    "I... trapped..." said Black Star, "trapped in unlife... Follow..." His voice was labored as if in agony.


    Then as they came to a door, he heard scuttling. Yet this one was heavier than the others. He whirled around with his sword in hand. What he saw before him was a beautiful, skinny elven woman with the lower body of a spider. Her ample breasts were packed into a bodice of black silk that clung to her curves. However, it showed off much cleavage on her pale breasts. Her eyes were like those of a serpent, with violet pupils. Between her clawlike fingers was a long strand of silk.


    "Well, look at the little fly who has stumbled into my web," said Rioletta. "I am so grateful that my old comrade told me about you. You might have caused me some serious problems."


    "I intend to do more than that," said William.


    "My, what a defiant figure you strike," said Rioletta. "I can''t wait to tie you up in torments beyond your-" William opened the door and ran like the hells were behind him. Which they were. "Hey! I wasn''t done talking, darling! Come back!"


    "You... running..." said Black Star chidingly.


    "I don''t mean to fight with a goddess, thank you very much," said William, opening the door. "Let alone get eaten by one. Can you close and lock that door?"


    The door shut.


    "Good," said William. "Close any doors you can between us."


    "Under... understand..." said Black Star. "Follow..."


    He fled through the halls and eventually came to a door, unlike the others. The wood here was black as night. There was an aura of pain coming from them, greater than anything else. William touched the door and recoiled at the agony.


    "Is this it?" asked William, hoping it wasn''t.


    "Yes... here is where the cloaking field lies..." said Black Star. "Break the flower...


    The door slid aside, and within, he saw what appeared to be a red flower at the far end. Coming from it were many vines that covered the walls. William tried to walk through. But he felt horrible pain as soon as he did so. It stung his arms. His hands went for his harp, but then he felt a presence.


    Glancing back, he saw the door through which he had come sliding aside to reveal many spiders. There was no time. Long ago, Mother had told him that it was better to plunge into the ocean than to immerse oneself gradually. He drew his sword and charged at the flower.


    The agony which assailed him was worse than anything he had ever felt. It was like his skin was melting off, and he collapsed to his knees before he could get two feet in. He was burning! He was on fire! S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    William turned to flee back to the door to find it shut. He couldn''t get out!


    "Destroy... flower..." gasped Black Star. "Pain... stop..."


    William screamed as he ran toward the flower. It was like he was being flayed alive. His heart was beating harder and harder. He was in a rage, and he swung his sword. The blade hit the flower and rebounded. His agony only increased. His vision was going dark. He could not continue. With his last desperate effort, he channeled the power of Elranor and struck. This time it shattered like glass. The pain stopped, and William collapsed to his knees and fell into darkness.

 Chapter Nine: The Emperor Appears

    William awoke to find his arms and legs bound in a spread eagle position. He was no longer wearing his armor; the weight was gone. But he could see nothing. Something sticky was covering his eyes. He strained and tried to break free, but his limbs were sluggish.


    Then the silk was pulled from his eyes, and he found himself in the center of a circular room. There was a balcony above him with many windows looking out onto a starry expanse. At the base of the balcony was Kiyora. She was trapped within a clear crystal, and blue energy poured out of her.


    Yet it was sapped away by wires into the walls themselves.


    Glancing around, William saw his sword on his discarded armor. Suppose he could only get to it. Then he could get out of here. But the threads held him tightly.


    Then Rioletta walked sideways from behind him into view. She was smiling. One clawed hand reached up to cup him by the cheek. He found his eyes drawn to her now naked upper body.


    "My, you''ve awoken, haven''t you? I can see why Arraxia likes you. I''m lucky I claimed you first," she said, licking her lips.


    He tried to speak. But the silk was covering his mouth. Rioletta responded by lowering her claws down to his shirt and stabbing one claw through it. He tried to keep from screaming as he felt her fingers drive themselves into his flesh. Down went her hand, and he could no longer control himself. He yelled, but the sound of muffled.


    "Oh, don''t bother trying to call for help, darling," said Rioletta. "My webs are very good at containing screams, and no one can help you. Black Star has been naughty of late, but it may be worth it for the pain I can feel from you. You''ve proven a frightful nuisance. I was nearly out of the system when you destroyed my cloak.


    "Now I''m being pursued, and I''m going to have to fight off the Dreamer Elves before I''ve broken, dear Kiyora."


    She moved forward so that her cheek was pressed against his. Her arms wrapped around him gently. William found himself reacting in his lower body despite his best efforts. How could he be attracted to this monster?


    "I like you," whispered Rioletta. "Beneath that metal shell, you look delicious. Not an elf, but one can tire of the effeminate sort. Now, what shall I do with you?" She licked his cheek with a forked, violet tongue. "I suppose I could bundle you up like the others, but this warrants a personal touch."


    Then she pulled back. She opened her mouth to reveal fangs. She bit down on his neck. William stopped himself from screaming this time as she sang her fangs in. He could feel his blood being drained, and he felt lightheaded. Then she pulled back, licking her lips.


    "Yes!" she screamed in a pleasured tone, a voice filled with passion. And she gripped him by the throat. "Still, it''s not just blood I want from you." She grabbed the tears in his shirt and began to rip them away. "How would you like to be the father of a new brood of spiders? Half-demons are much more durable than those silly raishans. It''ll be no trouble. It''ll be a special pleasure to have my way with a goddess''s servant in front of her.


    "Now, why don''t we begin?"


    She leaned in as if to kiss him. Then there was a flash, and the vessel shook around them. Rioletta looked upward in a fury. William followed her gaze and saw something strange through the windows. It was like a tree, yet the roots seemed to have tangled together to create a ship. It had golden leaves and was surrounded by a shield of light.


    "What is the meaning of this Black Star?" asked Rioletta. "I commanded you forward at top speed!"


    "I... do not..." The vessel shook as a beam of light was fired from the tree ship ahead of them to crash into them. "...serve by... choice..."


    "Then you will serve by compulsion!" roared Rioletta.


    She stretched out her hands, and dark magic poured from them. There was a scream from the ship. Then it was followed by many other screams. Thousands, in fact. A beam of pure violet light shot across the window to smash into the tree ship. The shield broke, and the vessel exploded into a million pieces.


    Yet more soon appeared and began to fire at them. Rioletta directed her assaults against them as well. And as she did, William saw Kiyora''s expression turn to one of pain. Rioletta was draining Kiyora''s power!


    He had to do something while Rioletta was distracted. William summoned the power of Elranor to heal his wounds first. Then he tried to break the enchantment on the threads holding him. But that was no good. The magic was just reinforced. Then he had an idea. He tried hauling on them while channeling Elranor''s power through.


    For a long moment, he strained. Then the threads snapped. He tore off his gag and leaped for his sword. Rioletta turned and sent a wave of thread at him, but he rolled away.


    Rioleta drew one hand before her in a slashing motion, and a wave of the thread was woven. William''s sword was held in place as Rioletta stabbed her claws into his chest. He gasped as he felt piercing agony. As she drew out her hand, another impact was felt. The other three ships were firing on the Black Star, and Rioletta turned to deal with them. Another two tree ships exploded into flares of light by her will.


    William healed his wound, ignoring the pain. He couldn''t fight Rioletta, not like this. Then glanced at Kiyora and thought he might free her.


    "Elranor..." he murmured, "give me strength...


    And he felt strength flow through him. There was enough strength for this. Rising up, he summoned the full might of his power and swung at the crystal. His blade hit an invisible thread and was slowed. When it hit the crystal, it only cracked. There was a cry of rage, and Rioletta was coming at him.


    He rolled aside in time to avoid having his throat slashed. Then a wave of thread pinned him to the wall. Rioletta came at him, face warped and twisted. "Miserable little fly! I''ll wring your neck and devour your innards! I''ll drain your blood from your-"


    A shield blocked her coming. Rioletta recoiled from it, burned. The crack in the crystal was widening. A blue light was pouring forth, and another will was widening the crack. Rioletta rushed back and forced a hand against the crystal. The crack began to mend, but the will persisted.


    "Won''t... let you..." gasped Black Star. "Ictargo... help me..."


    There was a sudden surge of orange light behind them. An elven figure appeared, garbed all in white. He had short dark hair and handsome features ordinarily. And he looked very determined. In one hand, he held a bright sword and, in the other, a great shield.


    Rioletta turned to face him. "Ictargo," she hissed. "This domain is mine by right. Black Star was born of my magics and is mine. You have no power here."


    "I have been called upon for aid," replied Ictargo. "And I do not forsake my subjects."


    Rioletta laughed. "I have been capturing elves from across the worlds for years, and your avatar has never confronted me."


    "I have been held at bay a long time," said Ictargo. "But no longer." He surged forward, and Rioletta went to meet him. There was a flash of light, and the room around them shook. Reality itself seemed to warp around them. William found his bindings falling away.


    Rioletta and Ictargo were now fighting. Threads were thrown at him with sharp points only to break against a shield. Ictargo''s blade struck many times. Yet Rioletta''s threads always interposed themselves. Yet there was something else going on here. William had yet to learn who this Ictargo was. However, he suspected that he did not see a contest between a demon and an elf.


    There were forces behind both of them. Primal and divine forces were sending their full might against one another. The actual combat seemed almost insignificant. The true battle was the will contest taking place just below the surface. William found himself almost lost within it. Neither one was able to overwhelm the other.


    Finally, Ictargo slid back a pace as though struck. Rioletta smiled. "You see. You cannot overwhelm me here. Not in the heart of my power. Not with the Dreaming Goddess within my grip."


    "But you have brought with you also the heart of my power," said Ictargo, and he spoke now aloud. "Hear me, subjects of the Dreamer Empire. Long has Rioletta held you? But no longer. Defy her now; pit your wills against her! This is the chance of liberation, which you have long awaited!"


    And there was a change in the air. Sparkles of light descended from around the ship, a few at first, but many soon enough. They poured into Ictargo, who flared brighter and brighter. Then he surged forward and struck Rioletta. The spider goddess recoiled, injured. Yet, with one hand, she sent forth much of her energy.


    There were the screams again. Much louder than before. And Rioletta raked Ictargo across the face, leaving three long marks. That would likely leave a scar if he weren''t an elf.


    "You may call upon the hopes and dreams of people," said Rioletta, "but I can wield their suffering as a limb. And when someone is in a great deal of pain, they''ll do anything to make it stop.


    "It''s the motivation of all heroes."


    The battle continued, but William drowned out the words. Kiyora was suffering, and the thought infuriated William. So, he pulled himself up and limped toward the crystal. Every step hurt, and he could hardly keep his feet. The floor seemed to be shifting. Finally, he fell against the crystal.


    Summoning the power of Elranor, he struck it with all his might. It cracked. He hit it again, and the cracks spread. A third blow saw splinters of crystal breaking off. He raised the sword for a final blow, but threads dragged him back.


    He looked up. Rioletta was still fighting Ictargo, but she''d sent silk to pull him back. They were still fighting. But he was exhausted. He''d used so much power, and this simply wasn''t working. He could hardly stay awake.


    Wait. Kiyora had long ago imparted a piece of her spirit into him. Perhaps he could reach her with words. He forced himself to ignore the pain.


    "Listen to me, Kiyora!" he said. "This ship, this tree, whatever it is! It is killing your people! But you can stop it! Fight it!"


    Kiyora stirred within her prison. Her mouth opened, and her fist clenched. And William felt a great power mustering within. "You..." she strove to speak. "get out of my head, you bitch!"Her eyes opened like they were lit with a blue flame. The crystal shattered, and Kiyora rose into the air. Rioletta recoiled as Kiyora landed.


    "Dropping... dropping shields..." said Black Star.


    "You little fool! You think you''ve won, do you?!" roared Rioletta. "Well, you haven''t! Even if you kill me, your ships will destroy this place! You''ll both die anyway, and I''ll just reform in hell!" And she laughed with manic hysteria.


    "This is Emperor Ictargo," said Ictargo, raising a strange device. "We have taken control of the ship. Ceasefire and prepare a boarding party."


    "... That''s cheating," said Rioletta in a petulant tone.


    "Not really," said Kiyora before sending a surge of blue light, and Ictargo unleashed a wave of energy. Rioletta screamed and was consumed.


    Kiyora looked to Ictargo. She blinked in surprise. "...Tenius? What are you doing here?"


    "Uh, that''s a bit of a long story. It can probably wait till later," said Ictargo, rubbing the back of his head. "Right now, we need to free all these people."


    Tenius? The name was familiar. "I remember you," said William. "Aren''t you that boy Kiyora was engaged to?"


    "Oh, that," said Tenius. "Yeah, I got informed of it. Then I heard it got called off. It was kind of weird."


    "I had to give away my harp to break off your engagement," snapped William. "If I''d had that, I could have handled this situation on my own."


    "I did just save you both," noted Tenius. "My fleets would have destroyed you."


    "No, you wouldn''t," said William. "Kiyora could have just as easily teleported both of us back to my world. This wouldn''t be the first time she''s traveled there."


    "And what about all the hostages?" asked Tenius.


    "...A fair point," admitted William. "Though that seems your responsibility."


    "So uh, Tenius," said Kiyora, not looking at his eyes, "how did you get here? When did you get those powers? And why didn''t you use them before?"


    "I''m dreaming if you must know," said Tenius. "Soon, I''ll wake up and dismiss all this as only a dream. My true identity has yet to manifest in my mortal form fully."


    "True identity?" asked William. "What do you mean?"


    "I am the latest incarnation of Emperor Ictargo," said Tenius with pride.


    "That means absolutely nothing to me," admitted William.


    "I am the supreme ruler of the Dreamer Empire," said Tenius. "Like all Dreamer Elves, I am immortal. But a long time ago, I got set in my ways and really screwed up a lot of things. I didn''t understand the changing times. So Alchara made it so that every six hundred years, I reincarnate in another form."


    "So, who''s running the government now?" asked Kiyora.


    "Various influential people. No one you know or know of," said Tenius.


    "Right, and why are you telling us this?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, honestly, you''ve derailed some important plans," said Tenius. Something about him shifted. He looked like a different person. "You see, as most women do, you were meant to fall in love with me at first sight. Unfortunately, you manifested your powers far earlier. The whole thing with Laughing Wraith caused the spirit world to draw much nearer, and you were attuned to it."As a result, things spiraled out of control, and you ended up far more willful than expected."


    "Happy to disappoint you," said Kiyora.


    "I''m well aware," said Tenius. "We had intended to go through with things anyway; let fate sort things out like it usually does. However, the Goldenwood Harp was far too great a power to yield to humans."


    "Yield? The harp was mine by right of finding," snapped William.


    "And it was Alchara''s by right of creation," said Tenius, and he was Ictargo now. "It''s obvious who has the greater claim."


    "Yes. I did," said William.


    "Spoken like a true disciple of Anoa the Butcher, said Ictargo. "You humans believe that just because you have the strength to take something makes it yours. You are unfit to rule anything."


    "Anoa the Bright was the greatest King to ever live," said William. "And the High Elven Kingdoms were barbarians who hunted sentients for sport. Driving your kind onto reservations was the greatest thing the men of Harlenor ever did!"


    "Do not speak to me of the old wars, human!" roared Ictargo. "I was there in another life! I watched the fall of civilizations! The rape of innocents beyond count! The destruction of entire nations! I saw a culture that had stood triumphant for millennia annihilated in a mere hundred years!"


    "You sought to exterminate us. We left some of you alive," noted William. "That alone makes us better than you."


    "Better? The most experienced human adults know less than Kiyora. And she has yet to complete her training," said Ictargo. "We are long-lived. Firstborn of the universe. The wisest of our kind remember ages past. Ages which human histories have long forgotten."


    "Yet you must reincarnate to remain relevant in a changing universe," noted William. "I think that says something about the values of immortality."


    "Both of you shut up!" snapped Kiyora. "Nobody with any sense cares about racial purity or stuff like that. You''ve got to judge people on a case-by-case basis. And William, do you actually believe all that?"


    "Yes," said William.


    "Funny because it sounds more like you heard it in a history lesson and repeated it here," said Kiyora. "And Ictargo, or Tenius, or whoever the hell you are, William has a point. They probably wouldn''t have lost if the High Elves were so damn superior." S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "We grew complacent. Yet we were still greater," said Ictargo.


    "Of course you were," said Kiyora with sarcasm. "And if the way you talk about it is any indication, you probably knew it. Have you ever thought that maybe so many people hate elves because we think we''re better than them?"


    "We are better than them," said Ictargo flatly.


    "No, we aren''t. I mean, sure, we''ve got some advantages," said Kiyora. "The average elf probably has many more skills than the average human. But that doesn''t make our lives inherently more valuable."


    "Believe whatever you will, Kiyora," said Ictargo. And he was gone in a flash.


    "What a wretched excuse for a sentient being," said William.


    "He''s borderline likable as Tenius. Why do you dislike him? I mean, it''s not like-" said Kiyora before suddenly breaking into a blush and looking away. "Hey, uh, what happened to your shirt?"


    "Rioletta tore it up while trying to force herself on me," said William.


    Kiyora blushed. "Oh. Um, how would that even work?"


    "I don''t really want to know," said William. "Can you send me back home now? These excursions to your world are interesting. However, I don''t really like having to contend with demons every time I go on one of them."


    "Right," said Kiyora. "Um, I''ll check up on you later. See ya!"She raised a hand, and there was a flash.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

 Chapter Eleven: New Land

    William was not having a good day.


    The wind howled around him. His breath came out like steam in the fridged air. The snow beneath his boots made his pace slow. The scraggly trees around him provided little shelter as he stumbled on. The only reason he wasn''t dead was that his armor and cloak had returned to him. He should have frozen to death in minutes if he had appeared in this broken and freezing land without them.


    Than Elranor for small miracles.


    He''d never felt anything this cold. Not even in Carn Gable on a freezing winter. He knew he had to find shelter and find it quickly, or he was as good as dead.


    William limped out of the trees and saw before him a farmstead in the distance. He could seek shelter there. The snows were difficult to push through, and it was a labor to get to it, but he made it. Making for it, he drew closer. He found the door broken open. Within, he saw a charred corpse. Looking back, he saw skeletons. Dozens of them. Yet they were not the bodies of men but of minotaurs.


    Then he heard the sound of tearing and looked up. A creature he had seen before as a statue was picking at a corpse. It was dressed in furs and wore a bow and an arrow over one shoulder. It had the beak of a vulture and two wings like those of a hawk.


    He had seen this creature before in a statue worshipped by demons. It was a symbol. A symbol of an evil that had haunted him all his life.


    "Melchious," he said, drawing his sword.


    The beast looked up, beak dripping with blood. "In a manner of speaking. Now that these worms are done, you''re next, Gabriel."


    "You won''t find me easy prey, monster," He hefted his shield, the cold was forgotten.


    "Of that, I am in doubt," said Melchious.


    Then he surged forward, a flame whip coming from his hand as he slashed. William raised his shield, and the whip slashed it. The force sent him staggering backward, and he warded off several more blows. His shield was smoking.


    He rushed at the beast, but Melchious leaped and drew his bow. Firing several arrows, William caught them on his shield. One of them glanced off the side of his helm.


    "Enough running, coward!" roared William. "Come down here and face me!"


    "Why should I?" asked Melchious. "Does the hawk sink to the mouse''s level?"


    Another three arrows shot at him, and he narrowly warded them off. "The hawk has better success!"


    "Only one of my arrows needs to reach you," snarled Melchious. "My venom will do the rest."


    Venom. So his arrows were poisoned. Melchious circled him, firing arrows, and William could hardly keep up. William backed up; soon, his rear was guarded by the wall of the farmstead.


    Two more arrows struck William''s shield. Then Melchious reached for another and found his quiver empty. William brought down his sword and cut the shafts from his shield. Melchious descended and summoned a spear of flame to his hand, which he lunged at William with.


    William batted the spear aside with his sword. He slammed his shield against Melchious. The creature backed away before drawing up a leg and gripped his shield with one talon, dragging it away. He struck at the leg, but Melchious knocked it back with his spear. Then he lunged at his throat with his beak.


    William rolled aside and slashed at his enemy''s legs. The beast leaped back, hurling two knives. As they came toward him, William knocked them away.


    The combat paused for a moment. "Heh, you''ve matured somewhat since last we faced each other," said Melchious. "It''ll make feasting on your flesh all the more satisfying!"


    This was not at all like the Melchious William knew from what he knew of him. "One moment, you''re a suave tempter. The next, you''re a bloodthirsty monster. And now you''re a cannibal.


    "Not very consistent, are you?"


    "Heheheh, not really," laughed Melchious. "I have many guises, many faces, and many names! Laughing Wraith, Melchious, Laurus, and you, William, but we are all the Dark Dreamer!"


    "And Arraxia has beaten all of you," noted William.


    "You dare..." began Melchious. "ARRAXIA IS NOTHING TO ME! NOTHING!!"


    And he rushed forward with an axe. William fended him off as best he could, but he was soon being driven back. He tripped over a loose stone and hit the ground.


    "Die worm!" roared Melchious.


    He brought down the axe, but William rolled aside and stabbed at the creature. His blade caught the creature in the leg. Yet it did not scream or flinch. It merely stepped out of reach and spun the axe to a guarded position. "You are persistent for a human. Appropriate for one of the Dark Dreamer''s Avatars."


    "I am nothing of the sort," said William.


    "Are you sure?" asked Melchious.


    "Quite," said William.


    "I once believed that as well," said Melchious. "Then, I saw him. I realized my folly. We are all of us but extensions of His will."


    "Well, he''s certainly working contrary to his interests," mused William.


    "You are the manifestation of his self-doubt," said Melchious, or part of him. "A remnant of his weakness. And once I destroy you, The Dark Dreamer will reign supreme!"


    "You are welcome to try," said William.


    The creature looked about to attack. Then it looked up as if catching the scent of something in the wind. In an instant, it rose into the air and flew away. William looked in the direction it had come from. He saw a caravan of minotaurs approaching on a cobblestone road. They were burdened with many bags. There were also a few dragging carts behind them filled with goods. They looked up to where Melchious was fading into the distance. Then they looked up at William. Several of them drew weapons as he approached.


    "That was Melchious'' Vulture!" said one. "What in hell''s name was it doing here? And who is that? You! Stand where you are while I get a look at you?! Who are you?!"


    William stopped and sheathed his sword. He raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion, servant of Elranor, and a squire of Harlenor. I am... lost."


    "You have the look of a servant of the Withering King," said the minotaur leader. He was huge, even for one of his kind, and had a long black beard. A massive axe was in his hands. "Take off your helm so that I might see your face."


    William drew it off. What lay beneath it caused them to murmur among themselves. William wondered why that was.


    "A human?" asked a red-furred minotaur with a missing eye. "Here?"


    "There are no humans in Viokinar," said a small white minotaur. Small being relative. "Not this far north."


    "Viokinar?" asked William. "That''s... that''s many miles north of even Haldren."


    "There are some in the far north of the Iron Kingdom," muttered the leader. "Still, he doesn''t have the look of one of those. What do you want?"


    "Help, to be honest," said William. "I need to get to civilization to take a ship back to Artarq." One more elaborate hassle, this would be worse than the trip to Gel Carn. He''d hardly found anyone on that road who wasn''t trying to double-cross him. The only consolation was that none of them had been good at it. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, you are lucky we are heading there, to civilization," said the leader. "We are bound for the town of Easoran. If that sword is more than ceremonial, you can join us."


    "You would let him go with us?" asked the red-furred one.


    "The road is getting increasingly dangerous," argued the leader. "Another sword could hardly hurt. And he drove off the Vulture of Melchious."


    "He could be a servant of Melchious himself," replied the red-furred one. "Or he might serve the Withering King."


    The leader rubbed his chin. "No, I don''t think so. Those who serve the Withering look, well, withered in some way. You recognize them when you see them if you know what to look for. As for Melchious, I doubt he''d bring a human all this way just to steal from a caravan.


    "Just keep an eye on him."


    "I assure you, I will be of no hindrance," said William, retrieving his shield. "I am a veteran of the Khasmir Campaign."


    "Khasmir Campaign?" asked the white-furred one, "What in demon''s name is that?"


    "I''ll tell you of it if you wish," said William.


    "Tell it to us on the way," said the leader. "We must find the house of Chieftain Behorn soon. We''ll attract unwanted attention out here. Come, we''ve tarried too long as it is. I am Balfast, the red-furred one is Drendig, and the white one is Morvan.


    "Keep up. We''ll not slow our journey for you."


    That was how William came to travel alongside a caravan of minotaurs in the frozen north. The minotaurs walked with long strides, and he had almost to run to keep up at times. In his heavy armor, this made the journey very unpleasant. Soon he was sweating, even in the frigid cold. As they went, he told them the short version of his history. Then he went into greater detail when he got to his adventures in Seathorius.


    Those seemed to interest them, but not in the same way they had got the interest of the Nakmar almost two years ago. They didn''t care at all about Kiyora or William resisting the lure of Arraxia''s bargain.


    They were very interested in the battles, however. William found himself going into great detail. The fall of Baltoth''s Retribution was a particular favorite. When the story moved on to the wars William had fought in, they became genuinely interested. Often they would ask for details about these. How many had been killed? What they did with the bodies.


    "So Melchious has reached forth his hand to other realms," mused Balfast. "I am glad it came back bloody. Yet I fear he will little lament his defeat. His feasts on the suffering and destruction of others. He cares nothing for his defeat so long as he causes harm in the midst of it."


    "Perhaps," said William. "I would like to know who that thing was? It claimed to be part of Melchious. Yet I don''t think it really is him."


    "The Vulture of Melchious is a demon worshipped by the satyrs," said Balfast. "Some say he gave them their insatiable thirst for blood. No one knows whence he came, but he feasts on the innocent. Cribs turn up empty when he is around, and farms are pillaged.


    "You must be formidable indeed to have driven him off."


    "It wasn''t easy," mused William. "And if I may be honest, I think I would have lost had you not arrived when you did. This Easorman place you are heading, where is it?"


    "Easorman lies to the far north of Viokinar," said Balfast. "However, it is separated from the Iron Kingdom to the east by the Teeth Mountains. We are taking a shipment of foodstuffs there, as is our custom. We sell them for great profit every year."


    "They have to buy their food?" asked William. "Why would they ever settle in a place where they cannot support themselves?"


    "Because of the iron. It lies in great veins near Easorman. It is stronger than anything which we know of. And it is prized above all else," said Morvan. "Even the Iron Kingdom doesn''t have anything like it. They sell it to us after we unload the food, and we sell it farther south."


    "What is so special about it?" asked William


    "It is stronger than normal iron, of course," said Balfast. "But that is not all. When weapons made from this kind of iron strike are bathed in blood, they absorb that blood power. A weapon made from such steel can become incredibly powerful.


    "We''ve sold some to the Nakmar Dwarves."


    "Would my sword be made of such iron?" asked William, drawing it out. He blinked as he saw the blade. It had taken on a reddish tinge. In Antion, most of the best iron came from the Border Hills under the dwarves who dwelled there.


    If another source of iron could be found, House Gabriel could use it to compete in that market. It was possible that they''d have to face a civil war. Having alternative sources would be a great asset. Even if no war happened, it could still be useful.


    Morvan took it and looked over it. "Yes, this is a sword made from it, no mistake. Where did you get it?"


    "It was a gift from the Nakmar dwarves of Seathorius, of course," said William. "The one they gave to me."


    "Ah, yes, right," said Morvan. "I forgot that part of the tale. We have, on occasion, sold to the Nakmar such metals. It was a Kingly gift they gave to you. This Dreaming Goddess must have greatly favored you."


    "Something to that effect," said William with a smile. "Can I get a ship at Easorman to the south?"


    "No," said Drendig. "The seas are very rough, and monsters prowl the waters to the north of Viokinar. That is why they cannot fish for their food. You''d have to head south."


    "Then perhaps I should do so now," mused William.


    "I wouldn''t," said Morvan. "The roads are very dangerous. Traveling alone is a veritable death sentence. You should come with us to Easorman. We''ll deliver our goods, feast together, and then, in a few days, we can move back south toward the ports. We''ll all be safer on the road together than alone."


    "I see," said William. "I do not know this land, so that I will heed your counsel."


    "Wise," said Morvan. "Tell me, why do you dress like a servant of the Withering King?"


    "I don''t mean to," said William. "I don''t even know who the Withering King is."


    "He is a dark power, comparable in strength to Melchious," said Balfast. "Though not in wickedness. He has power over the spirits of many dead men and presides over the Kingdom of Undeath. We have often known him as an enemy."


    "Still, there have been one or two times when we worked with him," said Morvan. "You can reason with the Withering King, and he has a sense of honor. Only a fool would try to reason with Melchious."


    "Men do," muttered Drendig.


    "There are many fools in the world, Drendig," said Morvan.


    "My Father did," said William, feeling defensive. "And he defeated Melchious at his own game."


    "You cannot be serious," said Drendig. "How?"


    "I''ll tell that story later," said William. "Not here. What is that up ahead?"


    He saw ahead a gap in the line of hills. It was very narrow and flanked by great crystals of ice. It couldn''t have been wider than ten feet, and the sides'' walls were nearly a hundred feet high. As they drew nearer, he saw they looked to have been cut by pickaxes.


    "The pass of Kalathan," said Balfast. "A perfect place for an ambush. We must be cautious. Drendig, Morvan, move on ahead and scout the cliffs. I want to know if anyone is up there waiting for us."


    William had the feeling things were about to get interesting. And not in a good way. Then again, that was somewhat redundant.

 Chapter Twelve: Easormen

    While they waited for Drendig and Morvan, it began to snow in waves. Balfast and the rest of the group gathered fuel and started a fire. William could have been more useful in the second part of it, something Balfast noted.


    "How are you so poor at starting fires?" he asked. "You''ve seen battle; that much is plain, and in your story, you traveled much."


    "To be honest," said William, "my friend and servant Felix usually deals with such menial chores. While I was on campaign, I was the son of a Duke. So I was spared having to have much part in the matter."


    "Well, you ought to learn," said Balfast. "You won''t always have servants around. The next time we stop, I''ll instruct you in it."


    "My thanks," said William, feeling very foolish. "When do you suppose Drendig and Morvan will come back?"


    "It may be an hour or more," admitted Balfast. "See, that pass has... problems. Sometimes parts of it get snowed in completely, and it becomes impassable. It always gets snowed in during the dead of winter. And sometimes the satyrs stick around in ambush.


    "They''ll want to steal what we have, you see."


    "I''ve had my fill of satyrs," admitted William. "But they aren''t all bad."


    "Maybe not where you are from," muttered Balfast. "And in some places, the sky may be green. But here, we must contend with the savages daily. They all worship Fortenex, but Melchious is a popular minor god among them. Those that worship him are vicious."


    "That I can believe," said William. "Why don''t you have beasts of burden? Surely you can carry more?"


    "You humans are as skinny as twigs," said Balfast. "So a beast of burden is a great help to you. But we minotaurs are strong. We can carry a far greater load than you and fight while doing it. So having oxen or other such animals is not worth the extra food.


    "Especially since we eat the same things."


    "Ah, of course," said William. "That seems obvious." He paused. "Though oxen don''t want to be paid."


    "I suppose not," mused Balfast. "But we minotaurs don''t have the same ideas about ownership you and the dwarves have. You see, our weapons, equipment, and food are not ours, per se. Rather they are entrusted to us by our chieftain. But they don''t belong to him either. He just decides what is done with the clan''s possessions. And he can be removed if he misuses this power."


    "But I am well acquainted with a Captain, Hrungeld," said William. "He is a minotaur, yet he seems to regard his ship as his property."


    "Yes," mused Balfast. "I''m told that minotaurs who sail beyond Viokinar pick up strange ideas. Some clans have had disputes where one claims that a thing is his by right. That it should belong to him and him alone since he made it. Or since he found it."


    "Surely there are things which cannot belong to a group," said William.


    "Such as?" asked Balfast.


    William thought about it. "The Goldenwood Harp. It..." He found he was having difficulty coming up with an answer. "Well, I found it. And I wielded it against many dark things. Yet when my goddess Kiyora needed escape, I traded it for her freedom."


    "What you have done is describe something an individual owns," said Balfast. "That does not prove that a group could not have owned it."


    "Well, what about the Hammer of Kreshlak?" asked William. "Or the Axe of Fortenex? Those choose their wielders."


    "Those belong to the gods," said Balfast. "And are given by them."


    "Yet the gods are individuals, are they not?" asked William.


    Balfast considered it. "The purpose of all property belonging to a group is that no individual may misuse it. The gods are superior to us. They know better. Therefore they may be entrusted with personal property."


    "So if a mortal was wise enough, they might also be entrusted with their property?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Balfast.


    "What if the group was unworthy and the individual was worthy?" asked William.


    "What do you mean?" asked Balfast.


    "Well, suppose that the group as a whole chose to do something utterly wrong, such as sacrificing their children to Melchious. And an individual defied and refused," asked William. "Would that individual be worthy to rule over the group as a whole?"


    "What you describe has happened once or twice in our history," mused Balfast. "Generally, our solution is to kill the entire group and let Kreshlak sort them out. He hates child sacrifice. You think about things a lot, don''t you?"


    "Well, I''ve faced many hard questions," admitted William.


    Balfast laughed. "I like you. However, I shouldn''t ask such questions of others. Some might take offense."


    At that moment, Drendig and Morvan emerged from the snow. They looked foul, and their cloaks were covered in snow. They sat down by the fire and warmed their hands. Balfast looked at them expectantly, and Morvan sighed. "There is no sign of anything, Balfast. We are clear. But it is freezing down there. We might wait for better weather."


    "Weather can get worse as well as better, Morvan," said Balfast. "And if it gets much worse than this, the whole pass will be snowed in. Let''s get through this place quickly. I always hate this part of the journey."


    They scattered fire, hoisted their packs, and made for the pass. William shouldered his cloak and kept close to Balfast. He was curious about this land, even if it was colder than Carn Gable. "How many times have you done this?" asked William.


    "I think it would be a dozen times now," said Balfast. "My father and his father before him have done a business like this. And it has only gotten better with time. Of course, all the caravans only attract more satyrs and giants."


    "Giants?" asked William. "You have them here?"


    "Yes, lumbering monsters," said Balfast. "A few can be reasoned with, but even they are dangerous. And some devour whole villages to satiate their appetites. They are an older race and one of the nastier ones."


    "Older race?" asked William. "I was taught they were created simultaneously as humans."


    "To you, perhaps," said Balfast. "We minotaurs are a bit younger."


    "How did you come into being?" asked William.


    "On this world?" asked Balfast. "The Goddess Zeya had her way with a white bull she saw emerging from the sea. Her children were the first minotaurs. But she despised them and sought to imprison them beneath the earth.


    "Yet Typhos, the mother of all monsters, pitied us and arranged our escape to Viokinar. Here she entrusted us to Kreshlak, and he raised us. We thrived, multiplied, and established colonies in many places.


    "Some even in Themious."


    "I imagine that doesn''t please Zeya." mused William.


    "We aren''t much inclined to care," admitted Balfast. "Kreshlak is our father, and Typhos, our mother. In spirit, if not in blood."


    The pass soon loomed overhead, and William felt it ominous. The sheer walls on either side of them seemed more like an open maw of jagged teeth than a pass. He could see ice spikes growing up on either side of their path and similar spikes growing from above. As they walked, shards of ice would come tumbling down every so often.


    William noticed that the walls looked to have been cut. They were rough-hewn. "Is this place natural, Balfast?"


    "No," said Balfast. "It used to be that getting over these hills required climbing them with a pack¡ªdangerous and miserable business. But then my grandfather dug his way through with a pickaxe. They mocked him, laughed at him, and then ate their words.


    "His efforts have allowed trade to flourish. The colonies to the north are far larger than they ever were before."


    "Who was he?" asked William.


    "Einhar, the Mountainmover they call him these days," laughed Balfast. "I always knew him as Grandfather. He widened the pass throughout his life, and now it stands here as a testament to his strength."


    "Hold on a moment," said William.


    He suddenly felt bad and wanted to see what was above him. He placed one gauntleted hand on the wall and began scaling it up. The armor was heavy, but he''d done this before. It was still miserable, though.


    "You climb well," noted Balfast below.


    "It''s a lot harder in this armor," gasped William.


    He hoisted himself over the top and looked up the hill. And then he saw them. A pack of satyrs clad in furs and wielding axes came over the mountain. He glanced down. "Balfast, you''d best get moving quickly! There are satyrs headed this way!"


    "How far?" asked Balfast.


    "A mile perhaps," said William. "I''ll stay here and keep them off if they get near enough." He drew his sword.


    "Right," said Balfast. "Get moving, you slowhoofs! We need haste!"


    William raised his shield and prepared to fend them off. But after seeing him, they halted and lingered by the ridge. He walked alongside the ridge as Balfast and his minotaurs hurried through the pass.


    "What of the satyrs, William?" called up Balfast.


    "They are just standing there," said William. Then he saw a familiar figure appear over the ridge. "Karasush..." The satyr raised both hands, and magic was in the air. If he had seen him, William couldn''t tell.


    "Who?" asked Balfast.


    "A sorcerer with power over snow," said William. Then he felt the snow beneath him shifting. The satyrs pulled back as the snow on the ground surged forward like an ocean against the shore. "He''s going to start an avalanche!"


    "Drop the carts and take only what you can by hand!" roared Balfast.


    "We''ll lose a mighty profit!" said Morvan.


    "Better that than our lives!" said Balfast, "Go!"


    William and the minotaurs fled. As they did, William saw what appeared to be a tidal wave of snow on the hill''s crest. Ahead of him, he could see the end of the pass. They were nearly there. The wave fell, and William leaped forward just in time to avoid it as it poured over the pass.


    He tumbled down the hill and landed hard, nearly impaling himself on his sword. Looking up, he saw Balfast and the others had made it through. But they were fewer in number than before.


    He rushed over to them. "Everyone alright?"


    "Where are Drendig and Morvan?" asked Balfast. "Drendig, Morvan! Where are you?"


    "Look there!" said a minotaur. He pointed to the snow.


    William saw an arm sticking out of the snow, spasming wildly. "Dig them out quickly. Now!" roared Balfast as he ran to them.


    The minotaurs dug quickly. Gradually they pulled Drendig out of the snow. He gasped air on the ground. "Drendig, you''re alive," said Balfast.


    "Kreshlak above, I''ll pay the satyrs back for this," said Drendig. "Where is Morvan?"


    "He was further back away." said a minotaur. "I fell, and he helped me up. He''ll be frozen to death long before we get him out, assuming he wasn''t crushed."


    Balfast looked very bitter. "Come on, let''s move."


    "Give us a moment," said Drendig.


    "The satyrs are coming soon," said Balfast. "We''ll want to be away from here, at least a little ways."


    William looked up and saw the satyrs coming down toward them on the hill. "There they are now. We''ve got to go."


    They fled as quickly as they could. The satyrs did not pursue it. Instead, they went down to the pass and looked at it. Down after them came Karasush, hands clasped behind his back. With him came dozens and dozens of more satyrs. Far more numerous than expected.


    "Why would they start an avalanche?" asked a minotaur. "How could they gain?"


    Karasush reached the pass. Then he raised a hand. The snow before him flowed away from him, scaling back up the hill around them and leaving the pass empty. And there were the minotaurs who had been trapped, as well as the carts that had been left behind.


    They stirred, but the satyrs were on them in seconds. It looked like they would cut them to pieces, but Karasush raised a hand and said something on their tongue. Instead, the satyrs looted the packs off the minotaur''s backs. Then they sent them away.


    Karasush raised a hand and snapped his fingers. The snow whirled around them. Gradually, it settled. When it was done, the pass was sealed once more, and the carts and bundles were all gone.


    "How can anyone command the snows on such a level?" wondered Balfast.


    "Karasush is a powerful sorcerer. I''ve met him before," said William. "He''s a follower of Fortenex and a powerful one, though I''ve never seen him in action before."


    "We should have fallen on them, Balfast!" said Drendig. "Cut the miserable cretins to death!"


    "There are were too many," said Balfast. "At least our men are still alive. Go to them and build a fire at once. We''ll need to warm them up quickly.


    "At least we still have some of our goods. Though I think it will be a hungry winter in Easormen."


    The fires were started, and the nearly frozen minotaurs were warmed as much as they could manage. Most of them caught a cold and were shuddering and sneezing. Fortunately, William had healing magic.


    Balfast kept giving him looks, though. Finally, they set out along the road. William hoped there wouldn''t be any more incidents.


    "How far to Easorman?" asked William.


    "Several miles at least," said Balfast. "Come, we''ll rest once we get there."


    "When did you meet Karasush?" asked Morvan.


    "He had me kidnapped by an enemy of mine," said William. "Then he played both of us for fools. He hoped to help Melchious unleash an army of demons called raishans on the land of Khasmir. When we won, he said he had only done so out of coercion and to save his people.


    "We didn''t fully believe him, of course, but it was to our benefit to at least pretend to."


    "So this all happened because you didn''t cleave his skull in?" said Drendig.


    "We''d just finished a massive war," said William. "We weren''t in the mood to start another one. If we hadn''t let him help us, he''d have gone to Baltoth."


    "This kind of politics is why I hate foreigners," muttered Drendig.


    "My apologies," snapped William. "A person in my Father''s position does not have the luxury of liking everyone he works with."


    "Enough," said Balfast. "We''re almost there."


    They came around the bend and finally saw Easorman. It was a large town with wooden roofs and log walls. Smoke was pouring from every chimney, and he could see mines dug into the side of the hills. A port in the distant west was also connected to a white sea. At the dead center of the town on a plateau was a wooden hall carved with many symbols. A twenty-foot stone wall surrounded the entire city. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It is quite rugged, isn''t it?" asked William.


    "Indeed," said Balfast. "And that on the hill is the hall of Chieftain Behorn! Come, tonight we''ll drink and make merry even if we won''t be wealthy at the end. Lost half my damn shipment."


    The gates of Easorman were tall and reinforced with iron bars. Atop the wall, a lookout called down to them with an arrow notched to his bow. "Who goes there?"


    "I am Balfast," said Balfast. "I''ve come with supplies for the village."


    "You don''t look heavily laden," noted the lookout.


    "The satyrs started an avalanche as we went through the pass," said Balfast. "We had to save what we could."


    "Behorn won''t be pleased about that," said the lookout. "Open the gates; let them in."


    The town within was bustling. Wherever they walked, they saw blacksmiths working metal. There were carpenters carving wood and priests performing rituals. It was crowded, and the watchman stood by with spears and helms.


    Balfast led them through the town and up a series of steps to the top of the plateau. As they came to the doors of the hall, they opened. Out strode a massive minotaur female with black spots. She hugged Balfast warmly. "Balfast, you old cow! It''s been too long. Unload your things quickly, then you and your companions come with me to my hall! We''ll drink a toast and share stories like old times!"


    "Just so long as we pay back the satyrs in due time, Behorn," said Balfast.


    "A fine idea," said Behorn. "Still, let''s warm up a bit before we do anything." She looked at William. "Wait, who is this human?"


    "He is not from the Iron Kingdom," said Balfast. "He claims to have been transported here by the gods. I don''t know what to make of him, but he''s been of some value to me."


    "Well then, he''ll be welcome with the rest of your men," said Behorn. "Come, master human, come in and tell me your story. We have been without new tales for many months."


    They entered a grand dining room. On the walls were the heads of many monsters. One, in particular, was of a massive snakelike creature with horns. It had a beak in place of a mouth and red eyes. Balfast looked at it in bemusement.


    "The sea serpent is new," he said.


    "Yes, yes it is," said Behorn. "One of my hunters caught the beast and hung it on the wall. My son has done his work well. So tell me of these troubles, Balfast. And try not to leave anything out; I love your stories."


    Food was laid out on the table. Roasted goat meat of exquisite tenderness. Balfast told the story in full. There were some parts of it that William needed to learn, they had happened before he joined the company. It seemed that Balfast had had a dangerous road even before he''d met William. He''d had to fend off a group of giants who came after them, kept them back, and been held up by unnatural storms. William wondered what these giants looked like and half hoped he would see one. Though fighting, one seemed out of the question.


    "Well, you''ve certainly had a time of it," said Behorn. "The satyrs have been restless of late. We''ve had one or two skirmishes with them already. If Drendig returns with their location, I''ll gladly wipe them out. Still, this Karasush concerns me.


    "Not many sorcerers have enough power to start an avalanche."


    "He might not have needed a lot of power," said William. "Avalanches don''t start because all the snow moves at once. They do it because some snow picks up momentum and causes the snow around it to fall. That causes the snow around it to fall, and so on."


    "Yes, I suppose he might have simply dropped a few pebbles. Perhaps he''s not a sorcerer at all," mused Behorn.


    "No, he is one," said William. "I''ve seen him in action. With the way he can summon snowstorms, he must have some powerful support."


    "Then why did you tell me he was not a powerful sorcerer?" asked Behorn.


    "I didn''t," said William. "I meant to say that the avalanche alone did not indicate that he was a powerful sorcerer."


    "You do play around with words, don''t you, little human?" asked Behorn.


    "I was educated by a very learned sorceress named Rusara," said William. "Sometimes I get ahead of myself."


    "Well, this seems as good a time as any for you to tell us your story," said Behorn. "From the beginning, of course."


    "What do you mean "from the beginning?" asked William. "I can''t exactly tell you my life story?"


    "Then tell us an interesting story from it," said Behorn. "You must have a few."


    "Alright then," said William. "Over a year ago, my friend Felix and I were captured by satyrs. While I languished in their dungeons, I was approached by a demoness..."


    He told them how he had been rescued by Kiyora and ventured across Seathorius. This time, he added many more details than he had when talking to Balfast, so the story was almost new to him. He described the Nakmar''s customs. He spoke of how he had befriended Massacre and escaped from Laughing Wraith.


    They seemed to enjoy the tale. "Now, that is quite a story. Yet you''ve only told us how you got to Artarq. How is it that you came here?"


    William realized that the light coming in through the windows had faded. Night was coming on, and the only illumination source was the fire burning in the hall. "Honestly, the story is quite a bit longer than that, and we''re all tired.


    "I suggest we pick it up tomorrow.


    "Yes, yes, a wise idea," said Behorn. "Tales are best when spread out. Go over them too quickly, and you cannot appreciate their twists and turns. That harp you play with is the one you got from the chimeras den?"


    "No," said William. "I... well, I no longer have that one. My tale tomorrow will tell you how I lost it."


    "I look forward to it," said Behorn. "Still, what are your plans now?"


    "Well, I was hoping to head south and find a ship back to my own land," said William.


    "You may find that difficult with the pass sealed off by rock and snow," mused Behorn. "You might scale the heights, but the satyrs are bound to prowl around now. And winter will come on in a bit."


    "I suppose so," said William. "Is there any other way south?"


    "Not in winter," said Behorn. "Yet you might go east."


    "East?" asked William in surprise.


    "Yes," said Behorn. "The Iron Kingdom lies that way."


    "But I''ve seen only mountains to the east," said William. "Is there some hidden pass?"


    "No," admitted Behorn. "And in winter, climbing over them means death. But there are ways under them. Through the domain of the Withering King."


    William remained silent for a moment. "Who is this Withering King?" he asked after a moment. "I have heard of him in stories but with few details."


    "A servant of the Withering," said Behorn. "The greatest and strongest of them all. He can slaughter entire armies by himself, and his minions are legion. Yet he has little interest in conquest, fortunately for us. If you pass through his domain and you don''t anger him, you might make it to the other side."


    "Where would I go to reach this place?" asked William.


    "I will gladly lead you there myself in a few days," said Behorn. Then lightning shattered the sky, and Behorn looked up. "Ah, thunder graces the sky. Kreshlak is riding the winds in his chariot."


    "What is a chariot?" asked William.


    "A cart was drawn by four fire-breathing goats that were sired by his union with a giantess. Or so some of the stories go," said Behorn. "Even the Iron Kingdom cannot keep out Kreshlak when he sets himself to it."


    "What is this Iron Kingdom like?" asked William.


    "A bitter realm where gods are banished," said Behorn. "Those that rule it claim the gods are evil and persecute those who believe in them. The fools have it in their heads that mortals can rule themselves without gods."


    "That doesn''t sound like a very safe philosophy," said William. "How do they protect themselves from the supernatural?"


    "Something to do with the power of the mortal spirit," said Behorn. "I don''t know, I''ve never understood it. Balfast, you''ve traded with them once or twice, yes?"


    "Once," said Balfast. "I have no desire to return there, however. The friend I was staying with was found to have kept a necklace with the image of Kreshlak on it. They crucified him, threw me in prison, and took my goods without trial.


    "I managed to bribe my captor and had to make my way out on foot."


    "So you see, you may want to consider staying here until spring, Paladin," said Behorn. "Even if you make it through the domain of the Withering King, you''ll only find yourself hunted. If you reveal yourself, you will likely come to a horrible and untimely end."


    William hesitated. It might be nice to stay here. Certainly less dangerous. But simultaneously, he felt he was needed somewhere beyond those mountains. He had to act. Yet how would it appeal to his hosts? "I intend to go anyway. I like the idea of enjoying your hospitality, but there will be more adventure this way."


    "Now that is a warrior''s answer," laughed Behorn. "Still, it is late, and we''re all tired. Let us sleep and make our plans in the morning."


    "I thank you for your hospitality," said William.


    "As do I," laughed Behorn. "I''d like to know if all those stories you told are true or not. However, you deserve hospitality simply for telling them either way. Either way, you should stay a few days here. It is too cold to make the journey now.


    "And perhaps while we wait, you may finish your story."


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 Chapter Thirteen: The Iron Kingdom

    Duke Vanion was sitting alone in his office.


    The man was leaning over a crystal ball which hummed lightly beneath his brown gloved hands. His eyes were closed. After a time, he opened them and looked at Kiyora. Where had he gotten that thing anyway?


    "Hey," said Kiyora.


    "Kiyora, perfect timing," said Vanion. "I have only just finished communing with the border forts. The ones that are still under construction. My hope is to have a crystal ball like this one in every one of them, just as we have with those bordering Seathorius.


    "Though it may take some effort.


    "How can I help?"


    "I was just looking for William," said Kiyora. "Do you know where he is?"


    Vanion''s expression darkened. "Unfortunately, yes. He is in Viokinar."


    "Viokinar?" asked Kiyora. "You mean that country where the minotaurs are from?"


    "Yes," said Vanion. "Rusara tells me that he has somehow made his way over there. Do you know how?"


    How did this happen? Kiyora could have sworn she''d sent him back where he came from. Well, she didn''t know how she did it. Usually, she just willed it, and it happened. "I meant to send him back here. I don''t know how he could have gotten there; I''ve never been there."


    "Well, I would appreciate it if you could bring him back," said Vanion. "He''s giving me interesting information, but I''d much rather my son be safe than useful now."


    "Right, one sec," said Kiyora.


    She willed that William be drawn here now. Nothing happened. She tried to go to him again, and there was a distinct lack of anything happening.


    "Well?" asked Vanion.


    "I can''t go to him," said Kiyora. "Something is stopping me."


    "As I suspected," said Vanion. "Another power has drawn him there for whatever end. Probably either Melchious or Fortenex. No matter, I have another problem."


    "What could be worse than your son being stuck in Viokinar?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Axe of Fortenex heading that way," said Vanion. "The ship I had sent it by has been drawn away by some other means, and the Axe is in Viokinar."


    "Then someone has stolen it?" asked Kiyora.


    "I do not think so," said Vanion. "Not yet. Rusara installed special wards to ensure we knew if anyone took it out of its box. I find it more likely that Hrungeld still has it and is being pursued. I''d like you to go to Felix if you can. Once I know what is happening there, I can plan to retrieve it."


    "Right, I''ll be right back," said Kiyora.


    She focused on going to Felix. And this time, she got somewhere. There was a flash, and she found herself amid the dreariest and grayest wood she''d ever seen. The branches were all drooping. The underbrush was spiky, and every color was drab. Just looking at the place made her feel depressed.


    Felix was around here somewhere. "Felix?!" called Kiyora. "Felix, are you there?"


    Felix emerged from the shadow of a tree and motioned. "Kiyora, get out of sight, you idiot."


    Kiyora blinked. "Right, okay. What is going on here?"


    "What does it look like?" hissed Felix. "I''m hiding for my life. Quiet."


    Kiyora went up to him and hid alongside him. No sooner had she done so and out of the trees emerged two dwarves from opposite directions. They wore heavy black armor and held huge axes in their hands. One of them nodded to the other.


    "Any sign yet?" he asked.


    "No," said the other. "This fool is very good at skulking, whoever he is."


    "Keep looking." said the first. "We''ll find him sooner or later."


    And they walked off. Kiyora watched them go in surprise. As she did, she felt a pang of hatred from the trees. Trees didn''t usually exude emotions. You had to dig deep.


    "Who are those guys?" she asked.


    "Soldiers of the Iron Kingdom," said Felix. "I''ve been dodging them for days."


    "What happened?" asked Kiyora. "How did you get here?"


    "We were sailing for Brisgald as planned," said Felix. "Then, suddenly, something took control of the ship and started hauling it toward Viokinar. I figured out that whoever it was was probably after the Axe of Fortenex. So Massacre and I leaped overboard and swam to shore with the box.


    "I don''t know what happened to the others, and I don''t have time to think about it."


    "Okay, okay, let me think," said Kiyora. "Where is Massacre now?"


    Massacre emerged from the underbrush, munching on thorns. The chimera looked in a foul mood. Her golden fur was dirty, and even her dragon head seemed annoyed.


    "Oh, hey, girl," said Kiyora, scratching the lion''s head behind the ears.


    "Bah," said the goat head.


    Kiyora paused. "Okay, Felix, you have everything under control. So I''m going to check on Tanith. I''ll see what she''s been up to. I''ll see if I can make some plans."


    "Just be careful," said Felix. "If my guess is correct, she''s either in prison or a corpse."


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    "Don''t get my hopes up," said Kiyora.


    On that pleasant note, Kiyora departed. The next place she appeared was the deck of a ship. And Tanith was leaning against the prow, juggling daggers. When she saw Kiyora, she started, lost her footing, and nearly took a dagger to the knee.


    "What the-" Tanith looked like she had something nasty to say. Then she paused. "You''re the Dreaming Goddess?"


    "Tanith, right?" asked Kiyora. "What is going on here?"


    "What does it look like?" asked Tanith, retrieving her fallen weapons. "I''m juggling daggers."


    "Well yeah, I got that," said Kiyora. "I just kind of figured you''d be in prison."


    "Sorry to disappoint you," said Tanith.


    At that moment, a minotaur stormed up on deck and came into view. He took one look at Kiyora, then glanced at Tanith. "Who is this? What is an elf doing here?"


    "I''m Kiyora Yagos, the Dreaming Goddess," said Kiyora. "I''m looking into the disappearance of the Axe of Fortenex. Felix told me he had to leap overboard."


    "I was carrying the Axe of Fortenex?!" said Hrungeld. "Why didn''t you tell me?!"


    "Because you didn''t need to know, Hrungeld," said Tanith. "If things had gone according to plan, you''d never have known. And the fewer people who did know, the better. If this leaked, we''d have ships trying to kill us the whole way."


    "Yes, right," said Hrungeld, calming himself. "We were setting a course for Brisgald like planned when the tides began to take us elsewhere. A fell wind blew us away, and no matter what we did, we couldn''t break free. As we neared the shore, we decided that whatever was doing, this was after what Felix was carrying, the Axe, I suppose.


    "So he and Massacre leaped overboard and tried swimming to shore. We arrived in the city, and we''ve been stuck here ever since."


    "Where is here?" asked Kiyora.


    Tanith closed her eyes, opened them, stood up, tapped Kiyora on the shoulder, and pointed to the left. Kiyora turned. Then she saw the city. The person who built it must have been particular in what they wanted. The most lifeless, depressing, and dull buildings in history. Add a few spikes to each, and you have it. They could at least have put some skull designs on it. Just looking at the place made Kiyora bored. The only remarkable thing about it was the pillars.


    Great black pillars of a shiny marble-like material were rising throughout the city. They could have been more exciting. It was more like they were sucking all the excitement out of the surrounding area. If one looked hard enough, you could glimpse the excitement before it was gone forever.


    "The Iron Kingdom," said Hrungeld. "A major port along the northeastern coast of Viokinar. The only place in the whole continent where you''ll find humans. Though only a few. It''s a miserable place. I never come here if I can help it; too many Calishans around you, understand."


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora. "I''ll just go tell Duke Vanion what happened, and he''ll negotiate or send a fleet or whatever."


    "You do that," said Tanith.


    Kiyora focused and closed her eyes. Then she opened them and found that she had not left."...You appear to be here still?" said Hrungeld.


    "Yeah, yeah, I am," noted Kiyora. "This doesn''t usually happen. I haven''t felt like this since I ran across those raishans."


    "Oh right," said Tanith. "That''s where I saw you. Don''t those things drive out gods?"


    "The Iron Kingdom maintains strict control on all divine worship," said Hrungeld. "You see those pillars?"


    "Yes," said Kiyora.


    "They are designed to control all magic in the surrounding area," said Hrungeld. "The runes upon them enslave the spirits of the land. Or something to that effect; I didn''t quite get it."


    "Well, how am I supposed to get out of here then?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, I''d offer to take you out of range by boat, but..." Hrungeld pointed to the right. Kiyora followed the gesture and saw that walls protected the entire harbor. "Those sea gates prevent anyone from doing anything."


    "Do you think maybe we could break out somehow?" asked Kiyora.


    "It might be worth a tale," said Hrungeld. "But I''m not sure I want to cross that bridge yet. The Iron Kingdom seems just as surprised at us coming here as we were. I suspect someone else might be at work in all this."


    "You mean like Lord Byran?" asked Tanith. "Because he''s gathering on the shore with troops."


    Hrungeld looked up. Kiyora looked where he was looking. Making their way up the pier was an unusually large dwarf. He was almost human-sized, in fact. He wore black armor with ornate silver decoration and had a two-handed blade on his back. With him were many dwarves like those Kiyora had seen pursuing Felix.


    "These people have a very unforgiving view of gods," said Hrungeld. "Don''t mention anything of the sort. If they ask you who you are, say you are an apprentice from Magicora who got here in an accident."


    "Okay," said Kiyora.


    The dwarf scaled up the gangplank, and Hrungeld walked to meet him. He bowed low for a minotaur, which wasn''t very low at all. "Lord Byran, this is an unexpected pleasure. How may I-"


    "My sorcerers detected a surge of divine energy upon this vessel," said Byran. His voice was cold and emotionless. "What is the meaning of this?"


    "Oh, um, that was me," said Kiyora. "I''m an apprentice at Magicora, experimenting with holy artifacts. I kind of disobeyed my master, and I ended up activating them. Eventually, I ended up here."


    "An elf," mused Byran. "I was not aware there were many of you at Magicora."


    "I''m an exchange student from Actovosh," lied Kiyora.


    "I have never heard of such a place," mused Byran. "No matter. Intrusion within the Iron Kingdom is no laughing matter, whether intentional or not. Take her."


    "With respect, Lord Byran, she has not done any harm thus far," said Hrungeld. "And this vessel is the domain of my clan."


    "Your vessel is in the domain of the Iron Kingdom," said Byran. "Technicalities must give way to realities. Unless you intend to remain here even longer, I suggest you get out of my way." And he put a hand to his sword.


    "...As you wish," said Hrungeld.


    Hrungeld was afraid of this dwarf. Kiyora supposed that meant he was dangerous. But there was no way she was getting taken captive for the second time this week. So she turned and ran for the end of the ship.


    She leaped over the side and plunged into the dark waters.


    Unfortunately, she hadn''t done much swimming. She didn''t precisely cut through the water like a knife toward the shore. Instead, she floundered her way in the general direction of land and it was cold. Very cold so that she felt her limbs going numb, until her power awoke within her.


    "Damn it!" she gasped. "I wish I''d chosen the swim club!"


    Then she felt something. It swam past her leg, and she was pushed several feet in the other direction. Then the beast arose before her. It was a huge serpent that rose almost ten feet over the water. It had bright blue eyes and sharp teeth, which were bared.


    "What the hell?!" she said.


    "Do you see that creature in the water, girl," called Byran. "That is the Iron Serpent, Jormungsk. The guardian of the Iron Kingdom''s waters. My forefathers save his life. Since then, all who have sought to threaten us by sea have felt its wrath. If you swim back now, you have my word that no harm will befall you.


    "Remain, and you will be devoured."


    At that moment, two sharp talons gripped Kiyora by the shoulders. She was pulled out of the water, and a long tail wrapped around her waist. Something brought her onto the pier and deposited her as Byran arrived.


    "Delenay," growled Byran. "What is the meaning of this?"


    "This girl is mine," said Arraxoa. "She was drawn to this place by my will. If you desire her, it will risk our alliance."


    "You did so with no word from us," said Byran.


    "After all I''ve done for you, I''d appreciate not being denied my pleasures," shot back Arraxia.


    "Animal," hissed Byran. "Take her and be gone."


    "As you wish," said Arraxia. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Kiyora stood and eyed Arraxia carefully. "Why would you help me?"


    "Silence, slave!" cried Arraxia before lashing her across the back with her tail. The force of it sent Kiyora to her knees. Ow. Then the demoness smiled. "Only joking, of course. Follow me; I''ll explain things after I''ve gotten you a change of clothes."


    "That''s your idea of a joke?" asked Kiyora.


    "Of course," said Arraxia. "Physical abuse is amusing to me when it happens to people I dislike."


    This boded well. Arraxia seemed to dislike everyone.

 Chapter Fourteen: The City of Iron

    Arraxia''s quarters were very simple. There was a carefully made bed that didn''t look like anyone had slept in it in years. There was a desk filled with various documents and a pen and parchment. It had a thin layer of dust over it.


    Kiyora was given a fresh change of clothes. They were drab, gray, and practical, like everything else in this city. Arraxia leaned against the wall with her arms crossed and her eyes fixed on the ceiling.


    Oddly enough, Kiyora felt at ease with this situation, too at ease. It didn''t feel natural. It was like how it felt to be near Alchara.


    "So what exactly are you doing here, Arraxia?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, you know, scheming my ascension into godhood," said Arraxia. "Plotting the ruination of all my enemies. Playing both sides."


    "I know that," said Kiyora. "I''m asking because I want details."


    "Yes, I suppose you do," said Arraxia. "When you put your spirit into Baltoth''s Retribution, we connected. When you tried to return him home, I used that to shift William to Viokinar."


    "Why?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, obviously, because I want him to die in a fashion that benefits me," said Arraxia. "I even told one of Melchious'' servants where he was. I''m rather proud of how I did all this, to be honest."


    "Uh huh, and what''s stopping me from telling Vanion exactly what you''ve been up to?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, nothing, of course," said Arraxia. "You may return whenever you wish and tell Duke Vanion everything he wants to know. Assuming you can raise the will to do so."


    Kiyora was about to do just that. But she didn''t. She felt compelled to stay here. Arraxia''s will was on her, and she had to strain against it. Yet it would not move. It was like a vice. And suddenly, she didn''t want to break free.


    "...This is weird," Kiyora murmured. "Why don''t I want to?"


    Arraxia cupped her cheek with one claw and leaned in. "Our will has become mixed. And since I am the stronger, my will takes precedence."


    "Wow, counting your chickens before they hatch, aren''t you?" asked Kiyora, brushing her off. "So, what is your plan again?"


    "Well, I was hoping to get the Axe of Fortenex for my own," said Arraxia. "I wasn''t able to wield it before, but I imagine I''ll be able to wield it once I gain enough power. And in the meantime, I have several other plans in motion.


    "For instance, the gentleman approaching the door even now."


    The door opened, and a masked satyr entered. He resembled the person William had described as Karasush. He regarded Kiyora, though she couldn''t see his expression beneath his mask.


    "Delenay, I see you brought a guest."


    "Of course I did," said Arraxia. "Don''t worry, Karasush; she can be trusted."


    "If you believe so, then I will not argue," said Karasush, "Tell me, how goes the search for the Axe of Fortenex?"


    "The Iron Kingdom has thus far failed to find it," said Arraxia. "I was about to start looking for it myself."


    "Taking a direct hand?" asked Karasush. "You are quicker to do that than me. Whatever the case, I did as you asked. You''ll get your chance."


    "Excellent," said Arraxia. "Truthfully, I prefer not to involve myself in direct combat. When one''s pawns fail, one sometimes must assist them."


    "Do you believe you''ll manage it?" asked Karasush.


    "But of course, Karasush," said Arraxia. "I already know exactly how I''m going to get the one responsible."


    "Oh? Do tell?" said Karasush.


    "Not yet," said Arraxia. "I have been very forthcoming with my plans, but I don''t see yours."


    "My plans?" asked Karasush. "I can indulge you.


    "The Axe of Fortenex is by tradition granted to one of equal cunning and power. One who can shed untold blood both with his mind and his body. Thus its full power can only be made manifest over the corpses of whole armies."


    "Nice," said Kiyora, not disguising the sarcasm in her voice.


    "Melchious is and has been worthy of the Axe of Fortenex for years," said Karasush. "However, he is far too bloodthirsty, and I''d rather my nation''s most sacred relic go to someone I can reason with. The problem, my dear, is that you need more time to be ready for it.


    "If you were given the power of the Axe of Fortenex, you would gain great strength. But it would become a crutch, and you would be weaker for it in time. If you lost the axe, you would be lost. However, even though you are still getting ready, you will still be in the future. Should you gain the weapon, you have my permission to keep it safe until such a time as a worthy wielder takes it up. Especially, since the alternative is giving it back to Vanion.


    "Now, what of your plans?"


    "Mine are the hands that will reign over all creation," said Arraxia.


    "You don''t have a plan, do you?" guessed Kiyora.


    "I am improvising you imbecile," said Arraxia.


    "As I suspected," said Karasush. "Whatever the case, the Iron Council wants to meet with you. There should be a guard about to knock on your door... now."


    There was a knock.


    "Delenay!" called a guard. "The Iron Council demands your presence!"


    "Who is this Iron Council?" asked Kiyora.


    "The ruling council of the Iron Kingdom," said Arraxia. "The Iron King gave them full authority to rule the Iron City and the lands around. He is more of a willing figurehead."


    "I''m guessing this is the Iron Continent," said Kiyora. "And this room is the Iron bedroom."


    "Don''t give them ideas," said Arraxia. "Karasush-" But Karasush was gone. Only a few fading snowflakes marked that he had ever been there at all. "I truly loathe that man."


    "He did just give you permission to hold onto his most sacred artifact," noted Kiyora.


    "One does not get credit for giving me my due," said Arraxia. "Let''s go." She led Kiyora out into the drab and lifeless halls. Guards and servants went about their business without expression, and everything was gray. It was strange. Many halls were abandoned entirely.


    "Where is everyone?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Iron Kingdom is dying," said Arraxia. "When one lives in a lifeless place, it is difficult not to die. Unless you are eternal, such as myself." She glanced around. "Oh, and don''t mention Karasush."


    "Whatever," said Kiyora, realizing she had no intention of saying anything. Obeying Arraxia was oddly natural. "So, are you going to kill them or what?"


    "Even if I was, it isn''t courteous to tell someone you are planning to murder them," said Arraxia. "Especially if they already know. There are traditions one must uphold."


    "So do they know?" asked Kiyora.


    "Probably not, no," mused Arraxia. "They''re materialists, you see."


    "What has that got to do with anything?" asked Kiyora.


    "Materialists don''t believe in anything greater than themselves," said Arraxia. "A rather vapid and insufferable perspective, but one with its uses."


    "Doesn''t that describe you?" asked Kiyora. There was a sense of guilt that bubbled up inside her. After all, Arraxia was perfect and flawless, and she should not speak down to her.


    "Yes, but I''m right," said Arraxia. Kiyora reeled beneath the weight of her argument. Truly she was the pinnacle of rationality. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    They came to a more populated floor. And within it, they found a set of double doors flanked by troops. Arraxia approached them. "Ah, here is the door guard."


    They locked their spears in front of them. "Stand where you are, Delenay! You will wait here until you are permitted to enter!"


    "I have an appointment," said Arraxia. "I''m being more reasonable just by not dropping in."


    "The Iron Council is meeting with the court sorceress," said the guard. "You will not enter until-" The doors opened.


    Out of them walked a human who looked about twenty with long, strawberry-blonde hair coming down in waves. She wore a long red dress, which was incredibly low-cut. Her bust was gigantic, easily Arraxia''s equal in size, perhaps even larger. It didn''t matter where you looked; it drew the eye. And that wasn''t even going into how the red dress clung to her other curves. Kiyora realized her cheeks were going red, and her mouth was hanging open. She quickly directed her attention to the woman''s face. Her lips and she wore her hair long and wavy.


    "Excuse me." said the woman calmly, nodding to the guards politely. "I''ll have to inform the Iron King of this, of course."


    "Dear sister Rubia, how did things go?" asked Arraxia.


    Rubia looked up in surprise. "Oh, big sister, I didn''t see you there. I was just talking with the Iron Council about our population. Fertility rates are lowering. I''m afraid that if we don''t reduce the aura of the pillars, we''ll see a drop in population soon.


    "The Iron King tasked me with keeping the population high, and they aren''t making it easy. I''d hate to fail him."


    "Well, the Iron King has been ever so outspoken about the evils of divinity," mused Arraxia. "Or at least he was. I''m not sure anyone has seen him outside the palace for over a century. How is he?"


    "He has plans of his own," said Rubia. "But he lets these idiots make all the mistakes they like. They picture themselves as stern and unyielding servants of an imaginary heroic figure. One who never really existed."


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    "Uh, are you sure you should be having this conversation in public?" asked Kiyora.


    "Who''s this? A pet?" asked Rubia, eyeing Kiyora in a fashion that made her uncomfortable.


    "An asset," said Arraxia.


    "An asset indeed," said Rubia, licking her lips.


    "So you''re both demons," said Kiyora. "Why are you working for these people?"


    "How shall I explain this?" asked Arraxia. "The Iron Kingdom employs demons as administrators and leaders. They take all kinds of precautions, of course, but we''re largely given free rein."


    "How are you, her big sister?" asked Kiyora. "You look younger."


    "I can appear any age I wish," said Arraxia. "As can she. She prefers a more mature form." Kiyora realized that there was a certain similarity between Arraxia and Rubia. The structure of their faces was alike. Did that mean that if Arraxia took a form of that age and race, she would look like Rubia?


    "Delenay," said a guard.


    "Yes?" said Arraxia.


    "The Iron Council has been informed of your presence and will see you now," said the guard. "You and your slave will show due respect."


    "But, of course," said Arraxia.


    They walked through the door. Kiyora expected to see a council chamber beyond. Instead, she found they were walking through a tunnel. It had smooth flagstones on the walls and ceiling and was wide and short. Arraxia lashed out with her tail and wrapped it around Kiyora, binding her arms to her as they walked.


    Drawing her up in front, Arraxia smiled. Then she put a hand on Kiyora''s head. "Listen very carefully. The Iron Kingdom dispatched me on a mission to enslave you to my will. You aren''t entirely enslaved to my will right now. If they find that out, they will probably kill us both.


    "And don''t think that being in a dream will save you. They have ways of hurting gods." Kiyora could not help but obey. It was hard to feel indignant at the fact. "When did you end up working for these people anyway?"


    "Oh, there is no time for that now," said Arraxia, setting her down and releasing her. "Come, the Iron Council awaits."


    They emerged into a large open chamber that looked like an arena. Around in the surrounding seats were many black-robed figures. Their faces were hidden, and their black-gloved hands were clasped together.


    "So you have come, Delenay," said a voice from everywhere and nowhere. "What is the progress of the mission?"


    "All things considered, it is going very well indeed," said Arraxia. "I have her right here with me." Her tail grasped Kiyora and drew her forward. Kiyora eyed them in annoyance. Who did these people think they were?


    "Then this is the Dreaming Goddess," said one.


    "We are less than impressed," said another.


    "Her powers are currently lost to her. The pillars have seen to that," said Arraxia. "And her will is mine to command, completely and utterly."


    Kiyora felt a compulsion to speak and did not fight it. There was a better time. "Yes, mistress. I am yours to command."


    "Words are one thing," scoffed a figure. "She may well resist in a moment of crisis."


    "Of course, she will," said Arraxia. "But I will extend my control gradually over time. Little by little, her will be broken to mine. And when it is, I will possess a gateway into her world to end her dominion."


    "And what of the other matter?" asked a figure. "What of Melchious?"


    "He is right," said another. "The anchor''s capability for survival is quite irritating."


    "Spare me," said another. "He is alone in Viokinar with no means of survival save his wits and steel. If the minotaurs do not kill him, he will be devoured by the satyrs."


    "I have some good news," said Arraxia. "He is coming to the Iron Kingdom by the most direct route."


    "I see. Then it is of no concern," said a council member. "He will likely come through the main gate, and we may kill him when he comes out. What I am concerned about is the Einheroth. Our sources on the other side of the mountains tell us that the Einheroth has begun to move. Kidnappings have become increasingly common, and we are already stretched thin.


    "I fear that they will soon strike us. When that happens, we must be ready."


    "Let us send Lord Byran with an army," said a council member. "He may take up residence in the Fort of Steel."


    "Wow, a name that doesn''t have the word Iron in it," said Kiyora. "What a shocker."


    Arraxia slapped her across the back of the head with her tail. "Do be silent. My apologies, gentlemen. She is occasionally impertinent even to me."


    The council glowered. "...Be that as it may, Byran is a formidable dwarf of great power in his own way. He will defeat the Einheroth, I am sure."


    "My a dangerous mission," said Arraxia.


    "Mind your own mission, Delenay," said another.


    "But, of course," said Arraxia.


    "You are dismissed." said one of them.


    Arraxia bowed and then drew Kiyora out of the room and back up the passage. As they walked, Kiyora looked at Arraxia. She raised an eyebrow. "So when are you going to betray this batch of friends?"


    "Really, Kiyora, you wound me," said Arraxia. "What could possibly make you think such utterly dull individuals are my friends?"


    "Well, they seem about as arrogant as you," mused Kiyora.


    "Arrogance is having an exaggerated sense of one''s own self-importance," laughed Arraxia. "Since the whole of reality revolves around me, it is not possible for me to be arrogant. Indeed, my fatal flaw is that I am too humble."


    "Is that sarcasm?" asked Kiyora.


    "My, whatever gave you that impression?" asked Arraxia.


    Was that sarcastic too? Kiyora decided not to ask. "Where to now?"


    "Now, I will be rid of your company for a time," said Arraxia. "I expect the Iron Kingdom will put your talents to work. You ask too many questions, you know."


    They emerged from the tunnel and then heard a call. Kiyora looked up to see a female dwarf running up to them. She had porcelain skin and dark hair on the top of her neck. She wore a curved sword at her side and was waving at Arraxia.


    "Hey! Delenay!"


    "Oh no, not this imbecile," muttered Arraxia. "Oh, hello Raka, how have you been?"


    "Very well," said Raka, seeming very pleased. "My brother gave me a new mission."


    "Oh, and what monumental task has the great Lord Byran bestowed on you?" asked Arraxia.


    "He wants me to organize the militia outside the Iron City. I am to teach them to fight the Einheroth," said Raka. "They are supposed to become an auxiliary force."


    "My, he must have an exceptional amount of faith in you," said Arraxia.


    "I uh... I think he may be doing it to get me out of the way," admitted Raka.


    "Well, that is unfortunate. My sympathies truly," said Arraxia. Never before had she sounded less sincere.


    "Alright, you don''t have to pretend to care if you don''t want to," said Raka. "I figured I''d tell you before I headed out."


    "On the contrary, I do care. Your position is relevant to my goals," said Apraxia. "In any case, Byran''s plan does have merits. The militia has had a rather disgraceful showing thus far. It may be best if you force them into something resembling competent."


    "Right, yeah, I guess. I''ve got to go," said Raka. And she brushed on by.


    "Goodbye." Arraxia waved. "She is beneath me. It is an act of monumental benevolence on my part, even to regard her with a single word."


    "How exactly is she different from William or I?" asked Kiyora.


    "She isn''t," said Arraxia.


    "Oh. Well, I guess I walked right into that one," mused Kiyora. "Still, why does she think you''re her friend? I certainly don''t."


    "Well, she beat me in a fight," said Arraxia.


    "And?" asked Kiyora.


    "And what? That''s it," said Arraxia. "When I came here to defect, I was less advanced in my eternal glory and defeated. I had to talk my way into becoming a double agent."


    "But beating someone in a fight doesn''t make you friends!" said Kiyora. "That makes no sense whatsoever!"


    "When one conquers a country, leaving the existing elites in charge is frequently easier. Better to let them live. That way, they will pay tribute and fight in your wars," said Arraxia. "It saves you the trouble of building it all up from scratch.


    "Which is why they trust me. In their minds, I removed Melchious from their orders. Thus my enslaving you extend their influence. Did you know the Iron King personally ordered your capture? You should feel honored."


    "Whatever," said Kiyora, not exactly caring. "Why do they call you Delenay anyway?"


    "That is another name I go by," said Arraxia. "It means bat in the dwarves'' tongue¡ªor at least the dwarves in this land. At any rate, it is time I got back to work. Feel free to walk the city or whatever mortals do when they aren''t dying or being manipulated by my will."


    "I am a god," deadpanned Kiyora.


    "Not here, you''re not. Oh, and feel free to try and escape," said Arraxia. "But I expect the Iron Council is watching you even now."


    "What does the Iron King want with me?" asked Kiyora.


    "Who knows," mused Arraxia. "I have lost interest."


    And she walked away. Kiyora watched her go for a moment. Then she turned away and kicked the wall. "Jerk."


    Kiyora could not escape the Iron City. She realized that the moment she tried teleporting to the walls, and leaped off. Some force compelled her to remain. She worked in every direction, and when she tried to go too far, she always felt the same compulsion not to. She struggled with it initially but eventually decided to learn more before making a scene. Maybe if she pretended to be submissive, she could turn the tables later.


    So instead, she wandered. And she found the streets were just as cheerless and empty as the building she had left. There were whole blocks where no one lived at all. The only thing to be found was crumbling masonry. Here and there, she found ancient statues of armored figures. Some were dwarves; others were humans. None were very nice, and some were broken into pieces.


    It seemed more like a ruin than a city.


    Then she would turn a corner and come into areas with people. Many people, in fact. Evidently, most of the population was focused on two or three districts. The rest were left abandoned. She came in time to a market where people were buying and selling goods of all kinds. Some were very rich. It was very depressing.


    There were the commoners dressed in pure drab grey. Their eyes were downcast and miserable. Then some looked relatively well of. They were less downcast but no less miserable. Finally, some were very rich and proud. They dressed in white and sometimes even brighter colors. These hid their misery better beneath a proud gaze.


    There was no hope in this place. Kiyora couldn''t feel any. It was like hope just didn''t exist. As she walked, she came to a square. At the very center was a great tree with drooping branches. It was shedding leaves, and its gnarled and twisted wood was flaking bark.


    Kiyora put a hand to it and tried to speak with the spirit within. Yet it was sleeping. It didn''t sleep like the ones in Seathorius. Those were dreaming all the time and could awaken in a moment. Nor was it like the elven realms where the trees were waking, bright and cheerful. Or even in Artarq, where they were sleeping but could be awakened.


    This was a dark slumber. It was one that was forced upon them. Kiyora reached forward and tried to rouse the tree. Yet even as she did so, she felt a presence, or perhaps it was the opposite. A nothingness. The nothingness dragged at her will, and she felt empty. She looked to the source of the nothingness and saw one of the pillars.


    There was one of them at the center of every crossroads. They drained all the life and beauty out of the world. Why would anyone ever set something like that up?


    "Why would anybody want to live here?" she asked.


    "Well, for one thing, it''s a lot better off than the outside," said a familiar voice.


    Kiyora looked up and saw a dwarf woman. She''d seen her before. Hadn''t she talked with Arraxia? She couldn''t remember very well; that pillar had done a number on her. "Hmm, Raka, right?"


    "Yeah," said Raka, "I''m told your will has been broken to the Iron Kingdom."


    She said it so casually, as if it happened every day.


    Kiyora narrowed her eyes. "Well."


    "In any case, I need you to come with me," said Raka. "I don''t know what Arraxia was thinking, sending you off like this. Your influence with trees could be invaluable in our fight against the Einheroth."


    "I kind of figured you''d have sent me after the Axe of Fortenex," said Kiyora, feeling dead.


    "Don''t be an idiot," said Raka. "If we sent you against your former friends, you''d be much more likely to break free."


    That made sense. These people were smart. "Huh, so you do this whole breaking-people-to-your-will thing a lot, do you?"


    "All the time," said Raka. "Sometimes, we pressgang people from inns and taverns and bring them in here. The pillars break everyone who enters this city sooner or later except in the merchant district. That''s the only place there are no pillars. And the only place foreigners are allowed."


    "Right," said Kiyora. "Can I get a message to a friend first?"


    "No," said Raka. "Come on, Rubia will be waiting for us. You''ll like her."


    "I already met her," said Kiyora. "She is... pretty." She couldn''t get worked up at all.


    "She''s a succubus," said Raka. "They are all pretty. They''re also schemers."


    "Why do you employ them, then?" asked Kiyora, curious.


    "We have a pact with Zigildrazia," said Raka. "She allows us to summon her minions. In exchange, we provide her with sacrifices."


    "Sacrifices?" asked Kiyora. "As in sentient sacrifices?"


    "Maidens mostly," said Raka. "The most beautiful ones. Zigildrazia collects beautiful people of all races as pets."


    "So you practice sex slavery then," surmised Kiyora.


    "I," Raka paused, "it isn''t exactly pleasant. But the demons she provides us with are needed. We don''t have divine magic like other nations, and for some reason, we''ve been losing our power over spirits."


    "I can''t imagine why," said Kiyora.


    "Right, well, that is why we need you," admitted Raka. "Our observations indicate that you have a hold over spirits. You could be of great help to us."


    "I don''t command spirits," said Kiyora. "I talk to them and ask them nicely for help."


    "Do you think we haven''t tried that?" asked Raka.


    "Asking while raising pillars like those," said Kiyora, pointing, "is not asking nicely. It''s like putting a sword to someone''s throat."


    "We didn''t always have them emit such a strong aura," said Raka. "But the spirits started to turn against us. Nobody knows why."


    "I think you do know why," said Kiyora. "You just don''t want to admit to it."


    Raka paused. "...We should probably go."


    "Of course," said Kiyora.


    This month just was not going well for Kiyora, was it?

 Chapter Fifteen: The Withering King

    Some days later, when the weather had cleared up, Behorn led William into the mountains. They journeyed high, slope by slope, bundled up in heavy cloaks. Their only shelter from the wind was the barren trees that covered the mountaintop. As they went higher, the air became thinner, and it was harder to breathe. The winds were howling, and it was bitterly cold, so your breath came from your nostrils like steam.


    William tightened the scarf around his face as he pressed up the mountain. Ahead of him, Behorn was forcing a path through the accumulated snow. The wind was howling. The air was chill, and it was getting harder to breathe. And this was supposed to be good weather?


    "Howling wind is particularly nice today, isn''t it?" asked Behorn. "You need good armor to keep it from cutting down to your bones.


    "But you''re not even shaking. Are you alright?"


    "How close are we?" William asked.


    "Only a little way up now," said Behorn, leaning on her staff. "Come, we''re nearly there."


    They emerged from the trees, and William saw a sheer rock cliff ahead of sorrowful-looking gray stone. It was overhung by vast amounts of snow that had never melted, and it fell over the edge to freeze in great hills. William wondered if archers might be posted on such hills but thought the wind alone would kill them. Yet there was a crack in the mountains. It was about five feet at the widest. Behorn led him to it, and he looked within.


    Muttering the incantations of the sun, he summoned a light. The warmth was pleasant on his palm, but keeping it sustained was tricky in this cold. There wasn''t a lot of sunlight that came down through those clouds above.


    Within, he saw bones. Hundreds of hundreds of bones are arranged into the shape of a path. He stepped back as a foul wind came from within the mountain. It reeked of carrion, and he resisted the urge to gag.


    "Is this the only way?" he asked.


    "Of course it is," said Behorn. "We are approaching the heart of death itself, the Withering King''s domain. None dwell here, save specters and less natural things.


    "Are you sure you want to go through?"


    William dearly wanted to say no. Going back to Easorman and spending a few months telling and listening to stories did not sound so bad. But he screwed himself up. That was different from how one had adventures worth telling about.


    "I''m sure," he said. "Has anyone ever gotten through?"


    "That all depends on what the Withering King thinks of them," said Behorn. "Those who anger him and pass through those doors never return home alive. Those who are respectful and do not tempt him to make it sometimes.


    "I spoke with him once. Me and Balfast were an adventuresome duo. He was quite courteous to us and even let us leave with some gifts¡ªjust a word of advice. Don''t take anything. You may see some amazing treasures, riches beyond imagination. But don''t take anything. He is very particular about the rules of hospitality."


    "Very well," said William. "Thank you for the advice."


    "And whatever you do, you should not disturb the dead any more than possible," said Behorn. "What lies in this place lies here for a reason. Move quickly, and don''t look back. I''d keep those torches I gave you. The sun spirit doesn''t touch everything in this place."


    "Thank you, Behorn," said William. "Your hospitality has been gracious, and your assistance invaluable. I hope that we may meet again in better times."


    "I would like to hear your music again," said Behorn. "I see why the chimera loved it so. Still, you''d best get underway. It is best to enter the Withering King''s domain in daylight. You''ll have better luck that way."


    William nodded. Looking back to the path of bones, he hesitated on the threshold. He fought down his fear and began to walk. Then he turned back. "Goodbye."


    But Behorn was already making her way down the mountain again. William sighed and continued on the path, trying not to step on the bones. "Well, here I am," he said to himself. "Going from danger into danger to find yet more danger. What brought me here? And how in hell''s name am I to get out? Even if I get into the Iron Kingdom, I have no money to speak of. How can I barter passage?


    "I might seek work as a mercenary. However, I don''t know enough about the land.


    "Yes, this may take some time."


    On William walked. The smell became worse. The darkness got deeper. The light in his hand began to fade, and he had to focus on making it bright again. Then suddenly, he walked out of the darkness and found himself in a great hall.


    And all around him were treasures. Piles upon piles of gold and jewels were strewn around. It was like a dragon''s hoard in this place.


    Even the den of Massacre he''d seen all those months ago could not compare. With a handful of these coins, he could surely easily pay any travel expenses.


    Then the warning of Behorn came to mind. She knew the road better than he. He forced himself to move on. He crossed the gold-strewn room and went to a door which led into yet more darkness. As he approached it, something emerged.


    It was a figure clad in robes. Or at least William thought that at first. But then he saw that there was nothing beneath the robes. Nothing but a translucent blue fire that emanated cold instead of heat.


    "You are wiser than your appearance dictates, wanderer," said a voice like a cold north wind. "Who are you?"


    "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel," said William. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "And where have you come from?" asked the spirit.


    "Northwestern Viokinar," said William. "I am going to the Iron Kingdom."


    "Interesting," said the spirit. He remained silent.


    "You have asked me several questions," said William. "I will ask you one in turn. Who are you? Do you serve the Withering King?"


    "Me? No, I''ve been around far longer than that," said the spirit. "The Withering King often changes, you see. I do not."


    "How often?" asked William.


    "Once or twice every few hundred years," admitted the spirit.


    "How many Withering Kings have you seen?" asked William.


    "Oh, I was here for the first," said the spirit. "When the first cursed ring was bestowed, the first warrior struck his bargain. I was here for the first of every race. I watched when these mountains were carved and saw when the gods first came to this realm.


    "I saw the first sunrise as it rose over the first world."


    "You''ve been down here a long time then?" surmised William, only half believing him.


    "Quite," laughed the spirit. "And many other places, for that matter. I know you don''t believe me, but that is of no real concern now. If I were you, I should seek out the Withering King?"


    "And why would you suggest that?" asked William.


    "He knows these mountains well," said the spirit. "He has been here a long time in your years and is approaching when he will pass, and another will take his place. Go to him and ask his leave to go through his domain, and he will set you on the fastest route."


    "Wouldn''t it be possible to get through without?" asked Wiliam.


    "It would," mused the spirit. "But it might offend him. His will is everywhere in these tunnels, and it is far better to have him with you than against you."


    "Can you take me to him?" asked William.


    "Of course," said the spirit. "Follow, and I shall lead."


    The spirit turned and walked into the darkness. Yet this time, William could see him go. Glancing back to get another look at the jewels, William stopped short. There was nothing there. Nothing but piles upon piles of rocks. Fools gold.


    He hurried after the spirit. It led him into a series of chambers. Within them were many beds of stone. On them were stone caskets. "These tombs, do they hold bodies?" asked William.


    "Yes. Yet the bodies in these places often move," said the spirit. "Anger the Withering Lord, and they will arise. It has been the death of many bold and foolish souls. And it has been their doom since."


    "What do you mean ''it has been their doom since?''" asked William.


    "They are still here," said the spirit. "The Withering claimed them."


    William did not know what that meant. But he felt pity for those trapped in this horrible place. "Would it be possible to help them?"


    "A kind question," said the spirit and its voice held a tone of mockery. "However, I do not recommend it. You are not nearly strong enough yet to break the spells on these barrows. And the strain would be your death. Perhaps someday."


    "What is the name of this Withering King?" asked William. He remembered the journey to Gel Carn and passing through Blackfear. Some of his decisions had been rash indeed, and he''d been lucky to get out of them.


    "I could tell you," mused the spirit. "Yet it would matter little. There is very little left of his old self. A shame; he was rather kind to me in his youth."


    "Are we near him?" asked William.


    "Very," said the spirit. "We have only just entered into the City of the Dead."


    "City of the dead?" asked William.


    Then the passages opened up. William found himself in a great cavern, and within it were many stone pillars. There were doorways carved into the rock and windows too. Far above, William could see a distant and pale light shining down from above.


    Yet he could see nothing and no one. "I don''t see anyone."


    "No corpses are allowed here," said the spirit. "Nor will you find any living. There are only the in-between in this place."


    Then William noticed shadows. Living shadows are moving this way and that. His hand fell to his harp. All too well, he remembered clashing with them in Blackfear before and after the Barrow. "Wraiths..."


    "Stay your harp, William," said the spirit, "None will harm you while in my presence."


    There were thousands of them. Maybe tens of thousands. What he had taken to be the shadows of the pillars were not millions of different shadows. They melded and changed before his eyes. The whole of the cavern was alive with them.


    "I''ve never seen this many," said William.


    "You have seen them only once or twice," said the spirit. "You have heard far more than that."


    "You know much," noted William.


    "I know everything," said the spirit.


    William felt as though he should believe it. However, he''d had experience with mind control, so he decided to test it. "I am thinking of a number between five and five hundred-" he said.


    "Three hundred and sixty-seven," said the spirit.


    "I''m thinking of a number between five and a thousand," said William.


    "Six hundred and seventy-seven," said the spirit. "Stop testing it."


    William had an idea. He''d state parameters without thinking of a number at all. "Three and-"


    "You are attempting to trap me," said the spirit. "You are wasting your time. What you see here doesn''t exactly exist on the same scale as you. It is an avatar of my true self."


    "Like a greater demon or a god," guessed William.


    "Yes, precisely," said the spirit.


    "Who are you?" asked William.


    "Some call me Lucius," said the spirit.


    They passed into a hall. And here, there were many empty suits of armor. Yet they seemed to be breathing freezing air. And where the eyes of the wearer would be, there were two freezing flames. They wielded halberds and axes and swords and every other kind of armor. At the far end of the hall, there was a throne. And upon that throne lounged another suit of armor.


    This one was a giant. It was larger than any humanoid creature he had faced before. And it held in one spiked gauntlet a massive blade longer than William was tall. One of its iron boots could have crushed a grown man flat. And the helmet radiated bright red light. And on his right hand was a steel ring, gleaming slightly.


    "So here you are, spirit," boomed the voice. "What have you brought this time, old man?"


    "A paladin known as William Gabriel, Withering King," said Lucius. "He seeks passage through your lands."


    "Does he now?" said the Withering King in a jovial tone. "Well, have him come forth; I''ll look at him." William stepped forward, trying to control his fear. The suit of armor raised one hand to the cup where its chin might have been. "Hmm, he is younger than most who dare venture into my realm. Perhaps I should slay him; he may make an excellent subject."


    "You would not find me easy prey," said William, resisting the urge to shrink in fear.


    "No?" asked Withering King. "Perhaps not." There was a familiarity in his gaze. "Now I know you. I''ve seen you through the eyes of my successor. Perhaps I should test you." And he arose from his throne, shaking off the dust as he brandished his massive sword.


    William tried to back away. Yet the smaller suits of armor blocked off all escape. He drew his sword and held his ground.


    "Withering King, is this truly necessary?" asked Lucius with a sigh.


    "Of course. I have had no battle for nearly a year," said the Withering King. "And I wish to test how formidable this one is-"


    William charged. He ducked under the blade of the Withering King and drove his sword toward the boot. Yet the Withering King leaped away, quick as lightning. He spun his blade around in a counterattack that nearly left William without a head.


    His enemy laughed. "Attacking while I speak? Clever."


    He brought down his sword, and William rolled away. Yet even as William rose, the Withering King had drawn back his blade and swung again. He fought with casual grace, wielding his massive blade with ease. William could hardly survive, let alone counterattack. Nor could he block the strikes with his own weapon or his shield.


    The King stepped back and planted his sword into the ground before him. William collapsed to one knee, panting and out of breath. A dark chuckle came from the suit. "The boy fights well. Still, let us see the strength of his will," He raised the blade and pointed it at William. "Die."


    The word so casually spoken was a command. William shuddered as he found himself bringing up his sword. He must die. He must fall upon his blade as he had been commanded. No, no, this was a spell. He forced his hands away and pushed himself back into a stance. Or tried to. The command was hard, and it was all he could do not to obey it.


    "Hmm, you are putting up far more resistance to my command than I expected," mused the Withering King. "You are strong. But are you strong enough to defy it?"


    William mastered himself and threw the sword away. The Withering King drew back his will and laughed. "Very good. Well, you''ve impressed me. I should love to have one of your skills among my warriors. Yet I suspect you are only beginning to tap into your true potential. Undeath tends to... stagnate the soul."


    William picked up his sword. "You were trying to kill me a moment ago."


    "I was," said the Withering King, "And had you disappointed me, your head with be at your feet, and your soul would be mine."


    "I am Elranor''s and no other," said William.


    "True," admitted the Withering King. "I suspect he might negotiate for your release. But that would provide me with benefits as well. I like you, William Gabriel. Thus I shall grant you leave to go to the Iron Kingdom with a condition."


    "What condition?" asked William.


    "You will have three days to leave my domain." said the Withering King. "If you are not out of it by then, I shall unleash my subjects. They will chase you down, slay you, and drag your corpse back to become one of my trophies."


    "Very generous of you," said William. "Is there anything else?"


    He felt that the Withering King was giving him a fatherly smile. "It''s a four-day journey from here to the other side."


    Typical really.

 Chapter Sixteen: Land of Goblins

    William was dismissed and led away into a side passage by Lucius. The spirit halted here and looked at him through the cowl it wore. The spirit looked apologetic somehow, despite not having facial expressions. "I would go with you to the other side, but I fear I have other matters to attend to, far from here."


    "Do you have any advice?" asked William.


    "Advice? Well, if I were you, I should not exhaust myself running," said Lucius. "You''ll run yourself ragged, and you''ll have to confront someone at some point.


    "As for the path you ought to take, I should take that one." And he motioned to a dark passage leading downward. It smelled of carrion.


    William looked to another from which he could smell clean air. Then he looked to Lucius. "Why not the other? The air isn''t as bad from there."


    "That way leads out faster," conceded Lucius. "But it also doesn''t have many offshoots, so your hunters will know where to find you. Einheroth, don''t tire while you do. You''ll be overtaken for sure unless you can run faster than anyone else in such armor. Even if you do get out, you''ll end up in the mountains above the Iron Kingdom.


    "That is giant country. They''d love nothing more than to devour you. And some of them are smart enough to hang out by the exits.


    "The road I have suggested is longer, but there are beings along it who may help you. Or, at the very least, may not at once try to eat you. It will also lead you out into the heartlands of the Iron Kingdom. Those are safe. Or as safe as anywhere can be. All the less violent races are being killed or fleeing to the shore."


    "I understand," said William. "Goodbye. And thank you for your help."


    "It is no trouble," said Lucius.


    William walked on by.


    "Oh, and William," said Lucius suddenly. "Keep your helmet on."


    William turned back. "Why?" But Lucius was gone. "Anything else I should know that you won''t explain?"


    There was no answer.


    He sighed and began his journey into the passage that smelled of carrion. Sure enough, he soon found himself walking upon bones. Yet these bones were fresh. Sometimes he even saw an occasional fresh corpse. The stench was horrific.


    He pulled his scarf over his nose and walked as quickly as he could manage. He tried to keep his eyes away from them. He''d seen death before in the wars. But nothing like these fly-ridden bodies which became more and more common. Soon whole piles were lying around before feasted on by rats.


    He tried not to throw up. He had no time.


    Time? What did it matter how much time he had? The Withering King had only been toying with him before. He was likely only toying with William now. No doubt, the Einheroth were waiting at the entrance to catch him unawares.


    It was all futile.


    His footsteps slowed. What did it matter how fast or how slow he walked? He would die here beneath the mountains. Nobody would ever find out where he had gone. What madness had possessed him to enter these cursed mountains in the first place?


    William nearly turned around and went back. He had to flee. Going back the way he had come would be the last thing anybody would expect. No, no, that was madness! There was nothing to do but die!


    No, not die. Nothing to do but press on. He knew he was being influenced by magic to give up. But he would not let it control him. He put one foot in front of the other with difficulty. Then he did the same. Again and again.


    Every step was a strain. He could hardly continue.


    But he would not give up. He had to get out of here. Nothing would stand in his way.


    The spell was broken.


    It was like the chains that had been binding him were shattered. Or if a gate that had stood locked and forlorn was suddenly broken in. He was free and could go where he willed.


    On his path led him, and he felt a bit better for a while. He saw passages leading to the right and the left. But he did not like the looks of them. So he kept straight, not liking the idea of getting lost in a maze.


    Then he came to more suits of armor. Yet these were chained to the wall and lifeless.


    "Help..." said a low whisper.


    William paused. "Who is there?"


    "Help... us..." gasped the same voice.


    William went through the armor and finally came to one at the center. A spirit inhabited it. No, many spirits. He could sense their energies within.


    "Who are you?" he asked.


    "We are... the spirits of the dead..." said the voice. "The damned... those who wandered within..." The voice changed to become lower and harsher. "We are... fools who made a deal with the Withering. In hubris, we thought we would become the Withering King. But all... all failed..." The voice became high-pitched and screeching. "Now we are Einheroth... puppets of steel and soul... Our spirits are spread throughout this armor. We kill for him and fall in battle. Then we are revived and sent to kill again...


    "Help... us..."


    "How could I help you?" asked William, feeling a surge of pity.


    "Break... my chains..." said the Einheroth.


    "Will the Withering King know if I do this?" asked William.


    "He... will... not..." gasped the Einheroth.


    William narrowed his eyes. "You''re lying, aren''t you?"


    "Help us... In dark, we have been... for so long..." gasped the creature "In dark we will be... until freed... Please..."


    "If I help you, the Withering King will send his minions after me sooner rather than later," said William. "I... I can''t help you. I do not want to become like you."


    "Please..." gasped the creature.


    William turned to walk away, but he stopped. He thought about being trapped here in the darkness for all eternity, with nothing but bones and rotting flesh. He thought about being chained, bound to the will of dark powers beyond all hope of salvation.


    It was horrible.


    Could he really leave them here? No, no, he could not, not in good conscience.


    "I can''t do anything," he said to himself. "I''m under the hospitality of the Withering King. A guest who frees his host''s prisoners and sets them loose around the house was no guest at all."


    "What are you babbling about, William Gabriel?" said a different part of him, the part always trying to be a hero. "You aren''t any more a guest here than a hunted deer is the guest of the wolves. Or a mouse with a cat who has decided to play with its food. You''ve no obligation to abide by this monster''s rules.


    "And you do have an obligation to help the less fortunate. That''s part of what being a paladin is."


    "Easy to say," he shot back. "But there was no certainty I could even break the chains. And whether I succeed or fail, the Withering King would surely know."


    "And why should it matter if you might fail?" replied his sense of heroism. "You think you''re the only person who''s faced bad odds in our history? Anoa the Bright faced bad odds his whole life. But he never let that stop him from doing what needed to be done.


    "What about Erik the Voyager? He stood alone against an army of giants to protect the eggs of a dragon he''d never met. But he didn''t give way.


    "If you were an ordinary person, you could ignore these poor creatures. But you aren''t. You''re a paladin. And part of being a paladin is doing the right thing even when it may get you killed or worse."


    "Besides, we don''t know these tunnels," said a third, pragmatic part. "This creature might. Perhaps it knows a faster way Lucius didn''t tell us about."


    That settled it. William turned back to the creature. "You know these tunnels, do you not?"


    "I... do..." gasped the Einheroth. sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You know all the secret ways," said William.


    "I... do..." said the Einheroth.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "I will free you," said William. "But in exchange, you must lead me out of here."


    "We... will..." gasped the Einheroth.


    "Very well," said William, drawing out his sword. "I will break the chains."


    He struck the chains once, and sparks flew. They rattled but did not break. He summoned the power of Elranor and struck again, and this time notched them. Yet a force hit him so hard that he nearly fell from his feet. His head hurt, and his hands were aching.


    Raising his sword one final time, he struck. The chains broke.


    "Release!" screamed the Einheroth as he stepped out. "I am free! I can walk in my own power at last!"


    There was a low laugh. "You disappoint me, Gabriel, though I suspected this would be your mind," said the Withering King. William looked around in fear but saw nothing, though his voice was everywhere. "No matter; I don''t mind starting the chase a bit early."


    William felt a twinge of fear. "Lead me out. Now!"


    "Follow me quickly," said the Einheroth.


    The creature led William into a passage, and they ran for a time William could not recall. His guide led them on a zigzagging, erratic path. It led further and further downwards. The smell of carrion faded to be replaced by a dank smell of water. He could hear the drip of water somewhere in the caves.


    Yes, caves. The tunnels had gone from mortal made to natural. And still, the Einheroth led William on. He ran until his legs were aching, and he could hardly keep up. Finally, the creature slowed, and he approached from behind.


    "Where are we going?" gasped William. "Why are we going down?"


    "The Einheroth will overtake us if we take the main way," said the Einheroth. "We must go by a winding path. This way is home to the goblins. The Withering King will not follow us at once."


    "Goblins?" asked William. "I thought Anoa the Bright wiped them out long ago."


    "He tried," said the Einheroth.


    "You seem different from before," noted William.


    "Our spirit was being subverted to the will of the Withering King," said the Einheroth. "Now, once more, our will is our own."


    "Well, that is good to know," said William. "Can we rest for a time?"


    "Yes, we remember now," murmured the Einheroth. "Mortals get tired. Their feet falter. We shall have to remember that." Then suddenly, the Einheroth broke into a sprint.


    "Wait!" called William, running and trying to keep up. "Come back!"


    "We will not be captured again by waiting for you," hissed the Einheroth''s voice as it passed from sight.


    "Bastard. I can''t keep up with him," hissed William to himself.


    "Well, this is a fine mess you''ve gotten us into," snapped his self-preservation. "Now the hunt is on, and we''re no better off than before. Much worse because we''re off the path and trapped."


    "We are a paladin," replied his sense of heroism. "We are supposed to help people whether there is a benefit or not."


    "Both of you be silent," said William, speaking the part of his pragmatism. "They might decide to follow him over me. We''ll take a branching path and hope to split them up." He looked at the available paths and took the one which led downwards. As he did, he cursed himself and sheathed his sword. "Damn it all, I''m lost again. Still, there is nothing to do but try my best."


    Then he heard footfalls. Heavy iron booted feet were slamming against the stone further up. A chant of war could be heard. And a terrible presence was coming toward him. William ran and ran, but it continued to get closer.


    He would surely be caught unless he could find a way to slip out of sight.


    Suddenly the left side of the passage fell away into a dark cliff. It was wet and slick. But it might be his only chance. William began to scale down it as quickly as he could. He nearly slipped on the rocks but managed to make it far enough down so that no one could see him, only if they were looking right at him anyway.


    Unfortunately, clad in armor as he was, he could scarcely keep his grip. All he could do was stop from plunging into the abyss below. "Damn this armor," he hissed. "And damn that Einheroth. And damn me."


    "He should be just ahead!" cried a voice like a cyclone. "Press on! We''ll kill him yet!"


    William clung to the rock as he heard many footfalls. They tramped past his hiding space. Above, he could see an Einheroth standing just above him. If it looked down, then he would be spotted for sure. The creature shifted, looked around, and then passed over him.


    William breathed in relief when they were gone. "That is the last time I make a deal with unholy powers. You''d think I''d have learned by now. Then again, Father came out of his contract very well, indeed. Though he more or less did so by breaking it off and following his conscience. Which I did.


    "Does that help or hurt my case?


    "Damn it. What now? They are gone, but there will probably be more. I don''t want to get caught between the two of them. I suppose I ought to climb down and see if I can find any way out through there. Either way, I''ve got no idea where I am."


    He began scaling down with pained limbs. He got about ten feet down. Then he slipped and fell backward into the dark. He snatched a handhold and managed to take hold of the wall. It wrenched his arm, and he slid downwards before hitting the floor hard and rolling downward.


    He felt a cracking noise on his wrist, and it was all he could do not to scream. Bringing up the twisted limb, he channeled the power of Elranor. It mended, little by little, but something seemed to be sapping his strength. Finally, it was healed.


    He stood, feeling tender still, unslung his shield, and looked around. He was in a very dark place, and his light hardly reached for than a few feet. Something was dimming it as well. Then he realized he''d never doused his light when the Einheroth had come.


    How had they not seen him?


    Then again, they didn''t have eyes. Perhaps they tracked things through other means. With a sigh, he walked forward into the darkness. Soon he found tiny stones that emitted small beads of light on either side of him. He doused his light thoroughly this time. He didn''t want to be seen first.


    William traveled by these lights until he came to the edge of a curved stair. And far below him, he could see a vast natural cavern. It was like something one might see on the surface, yet different. There were fields of crops, but they were of red moss and mushrooms instead of wheat. They were being tended to by small, thin-limbed froglike creatures. They had huge eyes and sharp teeth. Watching over there, farmers were ones with spears.


    And further on, he could see something like a smithy. The creatures there were forging weapons and armor. Their design was very similar to that of the armor the Einheroth wore.


    William remembered every tale and poem he could about ancient races. Then remembered what Lucius had said. These were goblins and thousands of them.


    How many more thousands were in these vast mountains? Waiting to swarm out and kill without pity or mercy. He had to stay out of sight. And that meant getting off this cliff.


    He scaled down the stair as quickly as he is good. He found it unguarded and wondered why. He guessed, as well as he could, that these creatures served the Withering King. If that was the case, they probably did not fear any attack from this direction at all.


    How many could have even gotten this far without an Einherorth to guide them?


    William reached the bottom of the stair and spotted some rocks. He could find cover there. He quickly scaled up among them and realized they had overlooked a mining operation. He had missed it before.


    "Alright," he said to himself, "alright, William, so you don''t know this place, and your guide has abandoned you. If you''re going to get out of here, you''ll need a new one. I could probably grab a goblin by force and make it serve me by the threat of death."


    "Very heroic," said his heroism.


    "We''ve had enough problems from you already," replied William.


    "But we''ll need a goblin who knows their way around," noted his pragmatic half. "Not all of them will know the way to the surface if any of them do. And in any case, we can''t speak goblin."


    "We can''t afford to be picky," noted William. "Every moment we wait makes us more likely to be caught." He eyed a passage where he noted some goblins walking inward in a large group. It was cobbled, like a road. It didn''t look guarded.


    "We might go there," noted his heroism. "Roads generally lead someone. And the goblins might have settlements outside of the mountains.


    "We wouldn''t have to threaten anyone with death."


    "And if they don''t," mused his pragmatism, "we could go back to the first plan and waylay one of the travelers."


    It seemed the best plan William had so far. And he put his hand to his sword. He was about to make a break for it when the ground shook. The wall the goblins were chipping away at suddenly fell down with a crash. They turned and fled, screeching, and the rubble caught several.


    To his surprise, goblins came from all over to see what it was about. Within a few moments, they began cooperating to move the rubble. They were trying to save anyone they could. Those that they freed were taken aside and tended to by healers. This needed to be clarified for William. The accounts by Anoa the Bright said the race was evil and killed each other for fun and to eat the corpses. Perhaps this was a different kind of goblin. It had been a long time.


    At that moment, there was a cry. "Einheroth! Einheroth!"


    William looked up to see a goblin pointing at him. The thing had snuck up behind. Now he was exposed, and hundreds of creatures were coming from all over to surround him. They chattered and chattered in their tongue.


    Why did they think he was an Einheroth?


    Then William realized that his scarf was still covering his mouth. That, combined with his armor, made him look very much like one of the suits of armor. Gradually as he listened, he found that he could discern their speech.


    "No, no, it has eyes like a human!" one was saying.


    "Humans do not wear armor like that. Withering Lord not allow it," said another.


    Why did he understand them? He had never learned goblin, to be sure. He spoke. "I mean, you and your people no harm."


    Some scurried away at the sound of his voice. It was very menacing.


    "Kill it, Mazabel," said the first one he''d heard. "Kill it dead! It will bring ruin and destruction!"


    William thought quickly. "I am here to aid you. I will heal your wounded."


    "Heal?" asked the first one. "Einheroth not heal."


    "I do," said William, "Watch."


    But as he turned to the wounded, a crowd of goblins barred his path. He couldn''t get close enough to touch them. They would kill him for sure. He could do it from a distance. Raising a hand, he sent forth his will to the goblins. It hurt a lot. Many of their wounds were, and his grip was loose. It was all he could do to keep fixing the flesh and bone.


    Sweat dripped from his brow. His hand was shaking. William knew he couldn''t keep this up. "Look!" cried a goblin. "Marzel walks away."


    Sure enough, a short goblin with bigger eyes than most had stood up and was walking. Others soon followed.


    "The others are walking! They all salvaged!" cried a goblin. "The Einheroth heal them! Withering Lord send blessings!"


    Something occurred to William. If the Withering Lord finds out I helped them; they may be punished. It would be best if he left quickly.. "I would speak with your leader," he said."A big goblin with a staff topped with a goblin skull came forward. "I Mazabel. I lead the goblins."


    "Mazabel, the Withering Lord wishes to test your knowledge," said William.


    "Test? How does he wish to test?" asked Mazabel, eyes narrowed.


    "He desires that you show me the fastest and most secretive way into the Iron Kingdom," said William, feeling bad for lying. "Bring me your best scout and have him show me the way."


    "Marzel is best scout," said Mazabel. "But why are you going to Iron Kingdom? Is time of vengeance at hand?"


    "The Withering Lord''s plan must remain secret," said William. "The time of vengeance will come when it will come."


    "You liar!" said a goblin. "Withering Lord always tell plan before he give order!"


    "Wonderful," thought William. "I''ve done something which seems out of character. They seemed awed by my using magic. Let''s see what we can do with that."


    "You dare?!" snarled William in a fury. "I am Einheroth!" He drew his sword and muttered incantations. The blade burst into bright light, though it took a lot more energy than normal. The goblins reeled back in horror. William dimmed the light. "Do not mistake me. The Withering Lord desires that you play your part. However, if you knew his true design in this matter, you would act contrary to what he desires of you. Now, bring forth Marzel."


    Marzel came forward. "I Marzel. I take you by all the secret ways."


    "Excellent," said William.


    Now to get out of here.

 Chapter Seventeen: Battle on the Road

    William and Marzel left with great fanfare into aside tunnel he hadn''t seen before. From what he gathered, the road he''d planned to take only led deeper into the mountains. There were vast cities of goblins there. He''d have been lost and died for sure.


    Privately he thanked Elranor for the landslide. Or whatever god may have been looking out for him. Then again, if the landslide hadn''t happened, many goblins would still be alive. But then he wouldn''t have seen that they weren''t pure evil. And who knew how that revelation might affect things?


    He was suddenly curious about the goblins. He looked to his guide as they walked. Marzel didn''t move very quickly; his legs were short. So William had to check his pace to keep from walking past him.


    "Marzel, I would test your knowledge of your people," said William.


    "What is it, great one?" asked Marzel.


    "To what purpose does the Withering King put the weapons you forge in his name?" asked William. He already suspected the answer, though.


    "We make as vessels by which the Einheroth are born into," said Marzel. "The souls trapped in Withering are set into them. Forged into warriors of spirit and sword! Kill humans and protect us! Why you have face?"


    "Hmm?" said William.


    "Why you have face beneath mask?" asked Marzel again.


    His scarf had fallen away. He thought of a way to answer without directly lying. "I was allowed to keep my mortal body until such a time as it grows old and dies."


    "You be favored," guessed Marzel.


    "Indeed," said William. "That is why this task was appointed to me. Another question, where do your people come from? How did they come to dwell in this place?"


    "Once, long time ago, goblins dwell on land to far south," said Marzel. "We as many as stars and have big, big armies. Elves leave us alone; they not want underground, and dwarves too few to stop us. Then big bad human, Anoa Butcher, kill all elves. He help dwarves drive us out.


    "He be killing us for years and years, and nothing could stop. But big chief Grakak get together tribe on ships he steal and sail north. There he meet Withering King and pledge to service."


    "The original Withering King?" guessed William.


    Marzel shook his head. "There only one Withering King. He change armor. You must be new Einheroth."


    "I am new," admitted William.


    "Armor just outward shell," said Marzel. "What inside is what counts. He put goblins to work, tunneling and making fortresses for him under cold earth. He make big bad Einheroth to kill enemies and trap souls of warriors to fuel them."


    "I see," said William.


    The account, for what it was, was consistent with what he had heard from his histories. But Anoa the Bright had done so because the goblins were utterly evil and without hope of redemption. They had been a plague threatening to wipe out the dwarves under King Redder. Or so the legends had said.


    "How did the Iron Kingdom come to be?" asked William suddenly.


    "They lured here by Withering King," said Marzel. "Mortal followers who served his armor. They found great Kingdom, but Iron King come and raise a rebellion. Einheroth driven into mountains."


    "Who is this Iron King?" asked William.


    "Old god. Very old," said Marzel. "Very mysterious. No one knows who is. If we know, Withering King kill."


    "Tell me, if you were to try and infiltrate the Iron Kingdom, how would you do it?" asked William.


    "Me dig big tunnel under Iron City," said Marzel. "Then break supports. Whole city come crashing down!"


    "And why haven''t you done this yet?" asked Willliam.


    "Mazabel say it too far to dig," said Marzel. "Also, say Iron Kingdom sense us and kill. Withering King say he want us secret."


    "Of course," said William. "You remember well."


    The conversation reminded him of a different problem that just occurred to him. Even if William got to the Iron Kingdom his armor might get him mistaken as an Einheroth. He certainly wasn''t going to get rid of it, of course. This had been a gift from Rusara. But once he got out into the open, he''d take his helmet off. That, at least, would make it clear he wasn''t a monster.


    "How far is it now?" he asked.


    "Not far. Not far," said Marzel. "This secret way we make only recently. Come out right near Iron Kingdom''s main road. We use to go in and out in secret." He drew out a veil and covered his eyes.


    "Why the veil?" asked William.


    "Sun hurts eyes," said Marzel. "We no like going out for long."


    "Why do you go out in the first place?" asked William.


    "We scout for Withering King," said Marzel. "Bring back news of targets."


    "Targets?" inquired William.


    "Yes. Farmhouses far from help," said Marzel, licking his lips. "Sometimes we steal cradles and bring babies back. Souls easy to mold into Einheroth since they have no will. We also bring back corpses to decorate halls."


    William suddenly wanted more than anything to cave Marzel''s skull in. However, that would be wrong. Whether it had known him for who he was, it had helped him and done him no direct harm. Still, he felt far less guilty about the possibility of the Withering King punishing them now.


    He asked no more questions. He had the feeling he wouldn''t like the answers. They came out suddenly into a dark and colorless forest. No, not colorless. It was more like the cheer had been drained out of it. The tree trunks were miserable brown. The leaves were a sullen green.


    It was the most bitter sight William had seen yet, somehow. And yet everything around him was perfectly healthy. It was like the soul of the land was dying. He looked to Marzel. "I thank you for bringing me this far. You have done well. Very well indeed. Where is the road?"


    Marzel pointed. "That way. It lead to main road. But Iron Soldiers keep eye on. You no want to go that way."


    William sighed. "Farewell."


    And he walked into the forest toward the road.


    William would have gone through the wilderness, but he had no knowledge of this land. He would likely get lost and starve. Or be hunted down by wild beasts. Neither was attractive. Every few miles, he saw great black pillars rising from the roadside. They seemed the center of the sickness he''d seen on entering. It was like they sucked all the beauty out of the world. Then he heard the sound of combat.


    Rushing toward it, he came to the edge of a clearing and saw a full-scale battle going on. Many gray-armored dwarves and humans were laying about them with swords and axes. The Einheroth were on the other side, and both were tearing each other apart. The leader of the dwarves and humans slew two Einheroth with strokes of his sword. Bringing the blade around, he ran through another.


    Yet there was something wrong with all this.


    The being of flesh and blood were silent. There were no war cries. No commands. No screams of agony when struck by weapons. They fell backward and said nothing as they were dragged away by comrades or slain.


    Yet the undead, lifeless and unholy, roared and screamed a great deal. It was disturbing to William that the dead had more emotion than the living. He wondered if he should take a side. Even so, he realized his looks were against him. He might lose his head and never be known as human. So he watched as the combat continued. At last, the Einheroth drew back, leaving many broken and ruined suits of armor behind. Among them were many corpses as well.


    The leader watched them go.


    "Byran are we sure we may defeat the Einheroth," asked a soldier.


    "We are not," said Byran. "However, we must at the least delay them. If we may hold the Einheroth in place long enough for Raka to rally her forces, we may gain victory. But it will be by a slight margin."


    "Do you really think that even a trained militia will be of any use," asked the soldier.


    "The Iron City has long protected those outside its walls," said Byran. "But our ranks have thinned while the undead has gained in power. With our weaknesses, people are beginning to waver. We had to crush several cults this year alone.


    "The people must learn that the strength of mortals is greater when not using gods as a crutch. Thus Raka must succeed. If she does not, I fear for the Iron Kingdom."


    Then there was a long, mournful cry. It resounded through the hills. Willaim felt a shiver run down his spine.


    "That voice... what is that?" asked a soldier.


    "It is the call of the Withering King," said Byran. "The Einheroth are pouring forth in their full might now. Draw back to the Fort of Steel. So long as we hold that the Withering King cannot advance."


    The side of the hill opened like a maw, and the dwarves and humans streamed into it. Byran was the last into it, waiting until the wounded had been carried in. He stayed long enough for Einheroth to pour out of the trees in far greater numbers. The grass beneath their feet withered and died. William realized he could easily be caught if he wasn''t careful. So he ran for it.


    Inwardly he prayed this Byran would halt the advance of the Einheroth. Then again, it would be a simple matter for all he knew. He did not know the defenses of this Fort of Steel or the Einheroth''s plans for piercing it. Nor even the numbers on both sides.


    No one pursued him. It seemed he had gone unnoticed. Yet soon, he could hear the unholy shrieking of the Einheroth. Smoke began to rise, and great clouds of dirt were thrown into the air. The shadow cast by the mountains seemed to lengthen into a claw. The world around them became ever more miserable.


    And yet William almost preferred it. It was a different kind of misery. The kind where one still feels life within them. One was motivated to grow stronger and become better. The further he got from the mountains, the less life he felt. Soon he had to stop as he came out onto a road. He followed it, preferring speed to concealment.


    As he walked, he saw those pillars again. There was one every mile now. It hurt just to look at them, and above clouds gathered gray. But everything seemed gray in this land. Every step hard than the last. William tried to call on the power of Elranor to give him strength. Yet it was drained away as soon as he did so. He could not wield it here.


    This was bad.


    And then he saw the shadow of one of the images on the pillars take shape into the form of a girl his age. He sighed. "Oh no, not you again."


    "You wound me, dear William," said Arraxia. "After all, it has been ever so long since we enjoyed each other''s company."


    "It has not been long enough," said William. "What do you want?"


    "Oh, nothing in particular," said Arraxia. "I was wondering where you were going."


    "I am going to the Iron Kingdom, and from there, I am going home," snapped William. "Don''t get in my way. I''m not in the mood for your particular brand of nonsense, and I just might put my sword through you. Again."


    "My, overconfident, aren''t we?" mused Arraxia. "After all your powers aren''t working right now, are they?"


    "They aren''t. But you already knew that," said William. "So the question remains; what do you want?"


    "Well, I was thinking," mused Arraxia. "We''ve been running into each other repeatedly and have cooperated quite well together..."


    "You''ve tried to kill me twice," said William. "Wait, no. Let me think. There was the attack on Hrungeld''s ship. My capture on the shores of Seathorius. Attempting to get me to sell my soul. Then there was that ambush Massacre rescued me from. You used me as an unwitting pawn to defeat Melchious, then tried to drive me to suicide. Then there was your attempt to murder me directly.


    "Oh, then you tried to cut my head off with the Axe of Fortenex.


    "I think that counts at least as four times. However, your intentions may have been my capture. Still, I have no doubt I''d have ended up dead or worse when your plans finished."


    "Yes, it has been a healthy relationship," said Arraxia. "Better still, you''ve survived. I''m moderately impressed. On a separate note, I was thinking about how you were born from Melchious'' being. Then I had a sublime thought; With that connection, you might learn to use hell''s power yourself."


    "I was indeed born of Melchious'' will," said William. "But my service belongs to Elranor alone. One who is greater than you by far."


    "Oh, what an adorable speech," she said. "Did you rehearse it? Or just copy it from a religious text?"He had.


    "Just be silent," said William.


    He walked past her. Her shadow moved to the next pillar as she walked. "At any rate. You are alone and surrounded by enemies. Elranor has been shut out from your heart by those pillars. But the demonic power within you might not be shut out. These dreary stones cannot keep out a power already within you. And you show much promise.


    "I thought I might give you the chance to join me."


    "Join you?" asked William. "I believe I already gave you my answer before."


    "No, no, that was a contract," said Arraxia. "Something designed to snare a fool which you clearly aren''t. No, I''m offering you a partnership, William."


    "Partnership?" asked William, smiling despite himself.


    "Yes. I can teach you many things," said Arraxia. "Many powers that Elranor could not."


    "And I imagine as soon as I learned them, I''d lose all my paladin powers," said William.


    "Would you?" asked Arraxia. "Elranor may not even be privy to this conversation with all these old stones about. And even if he is, we are practically partners already."


    "No, we aren''t," laughed William.


    "Isn''t Duke Vanion making many arrangements with me?" asked Arraxia. "And Kiyora and I have made several alliances as it is. Elranor has raised no objection to them. Why should he, if you try to claim, what is your birthright?"


    "And I suppose if I refuse, you''ll try to kill me again," said William, rolling his eyes.


    "Oh, me?" she asked. "Of course not. I''ll leave that to the Iron Kingdom. That armor is very memorable, and you have a very distinctive face. On the other hand, if you agree to help me, I will help you, and you can not only get home but return home a conqueror."


    William realized that even if he wasn''t going to cooperate, it wouldn''t help to have her trying to end him. He decided he''d pretend to agree so she would go away. "...I am willing to cooperate with you to get out of here. However, I reserve the right to break our alliance at any time. I will not burn villages; I will not take any action which violates my moral code."


    "Oh? So you aren''t interested in learning to control the power within you?" asked Arraxia.


    "No," said William. "It would only corrupt me."


    "Disappointing," said Arraxia. The shadow tensed as though sensing something. "Ah well, it isn''t as if I object to putting less effort into my side of the deal. Still, if you are going to prove yourself worthy of my time, you''ll have to pass a particular test. It is nothing to be concerned about, a small matter..."


    At that moment, the Vulture of Melchious descended and landed. In his hand was a flaming spear which he hurled. William blocked it on his shield and was nearly thrown from his feet beneath the weight of the strike. The heat from the strike burned him, and he hacked the spear away.


    The demon landed, and in his hands were clutched lances of flame. His wings were outstretched, and his eyes were flaming red. His beak opened to let out a war cry before taking a stance. "You shall never leave this land alive."


    "Would you be a dear and kill him?" asked Arraxia.


    This was ridiculous.


    More than that, it was dangerous. He had no access to healing magic. Even if he gained victory here, he could be wounded. It would be best to avoid a fight. He didn''t believe for a second that Arraxia had actually summoned the Vulture here.


    "I would love nothing more than to spill your blood across these flagstones," said William. "However, it is in neither of our interests to do battle."


    This response surprised the Vulture. "Why not?"


    "Because we''re in the middle of a highway," said William. "At any moment, reinforcements from the Iron Kingdom could be coming down this way. Or an army of victorious Einheroth. We''d both be killed then."


    "Fool," said the Vulture. "I am an avatar of Melchious. When slain, he may return me to life with only a portion of his power."


    "But will he?" asked William. "Think of that."


    "My will is his," replied the Vulture. "I am an extension. As your arm is an extension of you." He drew back his flame javelin. "On this road, I shall spill your lifeblood!"


    And he hurled a volley of spears. William blocked one and dodged the others, trying to ignore the heat. He drew his sword and charged, but the Vulture surged upwards and hurled more spears. William was slow to dodge, and one of the spears glanced at the side of his helmet. He was thrown to the ground with the force of it.


    He rolled aside as more spears came downward. Some impaled themselves on the road. One burned his foot. Pulling himself up, William rose and warded off and assault with a flame whip by the Vulture. The whip wrapped around his shield, which was yanked to one side.


    William swung his sword, but the creature pulled back. Now it drew its bow and began to fire arrows at him. William blocked one after another. Yet the creature was always moving, and it seemed like his arrows created a rain of poisoned steel.


    So it went. Seconds passed into minutes. The creature launched one projectile after another at him. Then Melchious ran out of arrows. William readied himself to face it in melee.


    Instead, it descended and took hold of one of the pillars. Tearing it from the ground, it hurled it spinning toward him. William threw himself to the ground. The pillar passed over him. It smashed against the flagstones, raising a shower of dirt and stone.


    Before he could stand, the Vulture was on him. One claw was clutching him by the throat. His shield was thrown away, and his sword fell from his hand. He reached for it while trying to ward off its stabbing beak.


    Reaching up, William struck the beast across the eye. It recoiled, its grip loosened, and he snatched up his sword.


    Then he drove it upward. The blade pierced through the creature''s skin, deep into its heart. The beast screamed in agony and recoiled. It tried to fly away, but William was too quick. He brought around his sword to strike it across the neck. It made a bloody wound, and the beast gasped. Another stroke took the head clean off.


    "My, what a magnificent show," said Arraxia. "Yet what horror! You appear to have been injured!" William felt the marks left on his neck. And also there were the burns which had been left to him. He sighed. "It''s only a scratch."


    "A scratch that could get infected and kill you," mused Arraxia. "A shame you don''t have access to divine energy. Perhaps I might suggest an alternative..."


    "I don''t need your help," hissed William.


    Opening his pack, he drew out some bandages and his waterskin. He did his best to clean the cut, then wrapped the bandages around him and tied them.


    "Hmm, what primitive methods of healing," mused Arraxia.


    "Rusara taught me how to heal minor injuries. That was before I learned to work miracles," snapped William. "I''m more than capable of treating this." Putting his things away, he began to walk. His foot hurt severely, and he was limping.


    "It certainly would be quicker just to take my training," noted Arraxia.


    "What was that demon even doing here, anyway?" asked William. He was trying to distract himself from the pain. "How did it get here?"


    "The Iron Kingdom works with demons," mused Arraxia. "Not with Melchious, of course. But their shields allow my kind to pass freely."


    "Why would someone ever want to shut out the gods and not demons?" asked William. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, obviously, to play into my hands and allow the hell''s free reign in this land," said Arraxia.


    "I mean, why would a mortal want to shut out the gods?" said William. "I know why you would do it. You''d probably do it purely out of spite. Even if you stood nothing to gain."


    "Ordinarily, I would object, but all I can answer is ''probably.''" mused Arraxia.


    "How would you even do it?" asked William as he limped around the broken pillar on the road. "Divine power lives in the heart of every mortal being to ever live. You can''t just block it out."


    "The Iron Kingdom didn''t. They merely drain it," said Arraxia. "It is actually rather clever. You see at the heart of this domain in the Iron City, the center of the godlessness. All of the divine energy which is drained by those is drawn into the Iron City. At the heart of it is a great crystal known as the Void Stone.


    "The Iron Council, who reigns over the Iron Kingdom, chooses what to do with the divine energy."


    "And they don''t think it''s worth using it to maintain the boundaries between this world and the next?" asked William.


    "Not really," said Arraxia. "An occasional demonic attack gets people scared and makes it, so they are less likely to repel. Tyrants positively love an overarching enemy. It lets them pose and posture and justify their monstrous actions.


    "It makes it all the more fun to torment them after the fact."


    "Is this from personal experience?" asked William.


    Arraxia was oddly silent for a moment ." ...Not really. Tormenting sinners is a cush job with few risks or rewards. I signed on to rule all creation. I''ll leave the damning of souls to those with no ambition. Are you quite well?"


    "Yes," said William. "I''ll live."


    "Oh, excellent," said Arraxia. "What about the poison?"


    "Poison?" asked William.


    "Yes. That demon has poisoned claws," said Arraxia. "It''s running through your blood right now. If you don''t accept my help, you''ll die."


    "I already said I wouldn''t work for you," hissed William. Then his vision went blurry. His legs collapsed out from under him. He fell, and his eyes darkened.

 Chapter Eighteen: The Home of Cerel

    It was darkness. No, darkness had substance. This was a void. Pure oblivion. William wandered in this place of emptiness. And he wondered if even he was real. Did he exist? Or was he the figment of some ancient and primordial gods'' whims? Had he been given form by accident or for a purpose? And if there was a purpose, what was it? Was his existence simply for the god''s amusement?


    He shook himself from such musing.


    "Where am I?" asked William. His own voice returned to him like a thunderclap. As if it was the first speech ever said in this place.


    "You are in a realm now devoid of the power of the divine," said Arraxia''s voice. "There is now only me. Rather the way I like it. And you are dying."


    William realized she was serious. There was nothing casual in the way she said it. He could feel the poison rushing through his veins. He didn''t want to die. But he tried not to show it. "So be it."


    There was mocking laughter. "You can''t hide your fear in this place. Even as we speak, the poison is sapping your strength. Draining away your life force."


    William said nothing. Part of him was screaming to find a way out. Any way.


    "No reaction?" asked Arraxia. "Well, let me ask you this; What do you think will happen to Kiyora if you die?"


    "What of her?" asked William.


    "She is trapped," said Arraxia. "Enslaved to the Iron Kingdom. Already their magics are working on her. She''ll resist for a time, but eventually, she''ll lose her very identity. Felix will be hunted down and killed. The Axe of Fortenex will fall into their hands."


    "You''re lying," said William.


    "Am I?" asked Arraxia. "Am I really? You have part of her within you. What do you sense?"He felt that part of him open. He looked into a bright and blinding blue light and saw the truth. All that Arraxia said was true or seemed true. But William did not think Kiyora was as helpless as Arraxia claimed she was.


    "So you see, it isn''t so much as whether or not you want to sacrifice yourself," said Arraxia. "So much as whether or not you are willing to sacrifice everyone you care about to maintain your scruples.


    "Especially since nobody would ever know."


    "What do you want me to do?" asked William.


    "Simple enough. Open your heart to me, and I will save you," said Arraxia. "I will bring out the power of Melchious within your being and use it to heal your wounds and ills."


    "Won''t that give him control?" asked William.


    "Far from it. I will be destroying Melchious'' means of control. And I will do it by sacrificing his power," said Arraxia. "Of course, I''ll be trying to manipulate you using my own influence, but you were able to defy Melchious. Surely you can do the same for me. Assuming you want to."


    William considered it. Once before, he had been given such an offer and had nearly accepted it. Once, a long time ago, he would have taken this one. But he was not the same person he''d been then. He wasn''t the same person he''d been an hour ago. The world was always shifting, and people shifted with it.


    "No. No, I will not give my will to you," said William. "If it is Elranor''s will that I live, he will send aid."


    "There is a difference between faith and stupidity," said Arraxia, voice frustrated.


    "Perhaps. But I don''t think Kiyora would want me to work with you. And Felix would call me an idiot for even considering it." said William. "I have already refused you once, demoness. Why do you persist in wasting both our time?


    "I wonder if, for all your bluster if you do not have a personal stake in this."


    "I wonder if you will sing the same tune when Felix is being tortured to death," snapped Apraxia. "No doubt by a Kiyora who has lost her very identity."


    He''d hit a nerve. Although William could feel his veins burning, he smiled. "Felix is important to me. But in the end, he is just a servant, and I cannot sacrifice my will for his sake alone. And Kiyora is a goddess. I expect she can get herself out of this. And even if she couldn''t, I doubt Elranor would stand for what the Iron Kingdom is doing. In time he will send aid.


    "Also, you wouldn''t have asked for my help if you didn''t need me. So I think you''re bluffing."


    "Congratulations on realizing the obvious," said Arraxia. "I''m only making the offer to pass the time anyway."


    William awoke. The pain of the poison was gone, and he was lying in a cotton bed. There was an open room, and he could see many other patients lying in beds like this one. His every inch ached. His sword was gone, as was his armor.


    He sat up and realized he was shirtless.


    At that moment, a curtain was pulled aside, and an old woman hobbled in. Her skin was wrinkled and pale. Her hair was covered by a hood, and she wore all black. She came to his side and looked at him. "So you are coming to at last then."


    "Where am I?" asked William. "Who are you?"


    "I am Cerel the Healer, and you are in my home," said the woman. "It is fortunate I found you when I did. If it had been a few hours later, the poison would be too advanced."


    "You saved me?" guessed William.


    "Yes. It was the least I could do," said Cerel. "You killed the Vulture of Melchious. He has been ravaging the villages of this place for years now. We were beginning to think we would never be rid of him?"


    "Surely your Lord should have done something?" said William.


    Cerel blinked. "Do you mean the Iron King?"


    "I suppose," said William.


    "He dwells in the Iron City and never comes out," said Cerel, walking over to one of the other patients. She began to administer ointment to wounds. "His warriors are stretched thin. And the Vulture wasn''t considered a serious problem."


    "Why not?" asked William. "Surely, such a vicious creature is a threat to everyone."


    "The Vulture didn''t destroy villages. Just robbed cradles and ambushed isolated farmsteads," said Cerel. "He didn''t depopulate regions, merely terrorized them. He must seem like the least of our worries with all the horrors of late.


    "He ate my sister fifteen years ago. And several of those who lie near you were hurt by him."


    "And the others?" asked William.


    "They were the victims of mining accidents," said Cerel. "Even dwarves are sometimes injured, and not all those who mine are dwarves."


    "What do you mean?" asked William. "Dwarves are the only civilized race that can safely do mining. When humans do it, they die in droves."


    "The local magistrate uses it as a death sentence," said Cerel. "A few weeks in the mines can kill anyone you want to get rid of. And the great source of revenue is the minerals in the earth. There are plenty of mines to go around."


    "How can one live like this?" asked William, looking out a window to the lifeless forest. "In this... nightmare."


    "One endures. One can''t do much else," said Cerel with a sigh. "It was not always like this. Once, the Iron Kingdom was tall and strong. We were once the slaves of the minotaurs, taken from a thousand different lands. But the Iron King freed us, helped us overthrow our masters, and we built this place.


    "The King roamed far and wide. He drove back all our enemies and made fortresses tall and strong. Yet those days are past, and we are decaying."


    "The King has retreated into his palace, and his council rules now. Perhaps he has gone bad. Or maybe he is not the same King that the legends speak of. Whichever it was, our golden years are long past. Now is a time of wolves.


    "All I can do is heal those who are injured."


    William hesitated. Cerel''s eyes were distant and sad. "How did you heal me? My own powers are useless." And he had just let slip the fact that he had divine powers. Idiot.


    "There are many plants that have magical healing properties," said Cerel. "I know them all. However, I could not heal that scar of yours. How did you get it?"


    "Battling a demoness," said William. He didn''t want to discuss the matter.


    "Well, however, you got it; no spell or medicine of mine could mend it," said Cerel. "Scars like that only happen when they mark something. It must have been from an important chapter in your life."


    "More than one," said William. "It is a long story."


    "I know. I read your journal," said Cerel.


    William felt annoyed at that. Who was she to go around poking around in his things? Then again, she''d had no idea who he was and would have needed to know. He might have been a threat.


    "Oh, that," he said. "I''ve taken to always keeping a volume on me to write my adventures in while I am having them. Just in case I end up being pulled on another one. Truth be told, it is less impressive than it sounds.


    "In the first part, I was terrified for my life. In the second, I was only a supporting element. Raynald and Rusara were true heroes. As for this part, I can''t make a judgment yet."


    "I think you did as well as anyone could expect. And if these tales are true, you must be a formidable warrior," Cerel looked like she was driving at something. "May I ask a favor of you?"


    "You may," said William. "I cannot promise anything until I hear what you desire." That sounded suitably dramatic.


    "There is a village near this one. A place called Calacosh" said Cerel. "A vicious giant has raided it. Every night he has come and devoured one among the village. And no one can stop him. They have called for help from the Iron City, but no help has come.


    "And now most of the soldiers have been sent north to hold the line against the Withering Lord."


    "And you wish for me to help them." guessed William.


    "Yes. I have no reward to offer you," said Cerel. "But I fear that if this giant finishes with Calacosh, it will come to my village next."


    William sighed. He really couldn''t turn down a plea for help like this. "Then I will do as you ask," he said. "Tell me, though, has there any news of a man named Lord Byran?"


    "Whispers came from the village a few days ago that he stopped an invasion by the Einheroth," said Cerel. "News from the Iron City claims that it was utterly smashed. But I have some art of divination, and I know that the battle is far from over.


    "He has stopped the vanguard. But even now the Einheroth pour out from the mountains. And with them go many goblins. The foul little creatures die in droves for their dark master."


    "How is it that you draw power?" asked William. "Mine has been cut off." There wasn''t much point in pretending at this stage.


    "I do not gain power from a god but the spirits," said Cerel. "Laevian is a goddess, but she was first a spirit of woods. Every tree is one of her temples, and she grants me a measure of strength I cannot gain from the likes of Elranor."


    "You mean she is not shut out?" guessed William.


    "It all depends on what you mean by shutting them out," said Cerel. "As a god, she cannot directly grant me power while those cursed pillars still stand. Yet she holds sway over many spirits, and it is from those that I draw my strength.


    "Of course, were I to ever reveal my powers openly, I should be sliced to pieces by the Iron Kingdom. They have a very harsh policy on anyone with power besides themselves." Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Why is that?" asked William.


    "If you asked them, they would say because power must be under the control of those groomed to wield it," said Cerel. "That commoners could not understand the use of it. Of course, at the same time, they defy the gods on the exact opposite grounds.


    "Those with power have the luxury of being hypocrites.


    "How is it that you found me?" asked William. "I did not see any village for many miles."


    "I was grabbed from my bed and flown through the air. Then I was thrown on the roadside far from my home. I began to walk back, and I found you around the bend." said Cerel. "I didn''t understand it at first. But I think this demoness with whom you trade barbs is fixated on you and desires you alive for the moment."


    "Comforting," said William. "Whatever the case, I will see to this giant of Calacosh personally. It is the least I can do, considering you saved my life. Where are my armor and sword?"


    "I shouldn''t leave just yet," said Cerel. "The poison may still be in your veins. Wait at least a day."


    "...So be it," said William. "But I want to know where my armor and weapons are. I need to care for them."


    "I put them in the cupboard," said Cerel. "Follow me."


    It took several days for William to recover his strength. During that time, it quickly became clear that Cerel was no ordinary healer. She healed through ointments and herbs. Things that William had been brought up to view as a stopgap measure. Yet she got uses out of them, which he had not known was possible.


    Even so, several of the patients died. Others recovered and went on their way. When William was strong enough to leave the room, he realized Cerel was well off. There were several rooms in her house and many beautiful things. There were runes of warding on the doors and windows.


    If one looked out the window, one saw a hilltop looking over a village of thatched roofs and stone make. The despair in the rest of the kingdom was not so intense here. Some power other than the divine bolstered these people.


    Yet the black pillar at the center of town stood tall. It leered down at them all. It seemed intent on sucking all meaning from the village. And the presence of something which defied it only seemed to infuriate the pillar. Or whatever power was behind the pillar?


    Finally, he fully recovered. Donning his armor and equipment, he asked the question he''d meant to for some time. "Do you have any family?"


    "My son is a soldier in the Iron Kingdom," said Cerel. "My daughter has married and moved away. My husband died some years ago. Now I live alone and tend to the sick."


    "I''m sorry," said William.


    Then Cerel drew out one of the ointments he had seen her use. "Take this with you."


    "What are these made from?" asked William.


    "They are made from healing plants grown in my garden," said Cerel. "And also from the leaves of a tree of Alchara."


    "A tree of Alchara?" asked William. "I''ve heard legends of those. Didn''t the goddess herself plant them, and their leaves can heal anything? I thought most of them were destroyed during the Founding of Harlenor. I know a few survive in Escor and the elvish reservations."


    "Well, one survived here," said Cerel. "And I have planted its seeds in other places. Do not tell anyone about it. I fear if the Iron Kingdom learned of it, they would hack it down purely because it came from the gods."


    "I promise you," said William. "I will tell no one. And I thank you."


    "It is no trouble," said Cerel. "Actually, it is to my benefit. You can''t kill the horrors infesting this land if you die." She handed him a pack filled with provisions."


    "Fair enough," said William with a grin. "Could you point me toward Calacosh?"


    He took the pack, and Cerel led him outside. Finding a road branching off from the main one, she pointed down it. There was even less hope on this path than in the other places he had been. It was almost painful to look at it.


    "Follow this path for a day, and you''ll reach it," said Cerel. "You can tell it by the feeling of absolute despair."


    "I feel that everywhere in this place," said William.


    "Oh yes, I had heard that outsiders respond to the Iron Kingdom badly," said Cerel. "We''ll look for the worse case of absolute despair."


    William laughed. Then, mustering his courage, he took his first step.

 Chapter Nineteen: In the Service of Iron

    Days had passed, and Kiyora was not happy.


    For one thing, she''d spent those days negotiating with the trees. Trees who were very, very put out after centuries of neglect. It couldn''t even be called negotiations. She walked among them, speaking with them, struggling to get them even to acknowledge her. The plants of this land had a spiteful twinge to their minds. It had been grown in darkness, and when she talked to them, she got a painful buzz.


    In the meantime, Raka held regular meetings within a manor at the center of the village. That was right; they were in a village. They had moved there. Kiyora''s head had been shaky; things just seemed to breeze by. The meeting room was large and circular, with a balcony looking out over the plaza. At the center was a table with maps on it.


    Kiyora listened to petty discussions of one thing or another. Then something caught her interest. Something about giants and a village named Calacosh.


    "Shouldn''t we be doing something about Calacosh?" asked Kiyora suddenly.


    "Calacosh has already fallen," said Rubia. She had shed her red dress and replaced it with gray armor. "It is right in the path of a potential Einheroth invasion; in any case, several cults sprouted up there. The presence of religion cannot be tolerated. Since we cannot trust them not to betray us, we have designated them a low-priority territory."


    "Nice, why don''t we just pull the legs off an insect while we''re at it," said Kiyora. Then again, if the insect was Rioletta...


    "We don''t mean to be cruel, Kiyora," said Raka, sounding hurt. "We simply have no choice. The Iron Kingdom has few resources these days. We have to make hard choices. Calacosh has repeatedly violated our laws and been caught creating cults."


    "To which god?" asked Kiyora, feeling dead.


    "Does it matter?" asked Raka. "One god is much the same as another."


    "Speaking as a god, I find your attitude insulting," said Kiyora.


    Raka sighed. "Elranor. Some missionaries landed a dozen years back. They attempted converting the populace. Despite our best efforts, the cult has hung on. And it''s appeared in a lot of different places now."


    "You do know you''re talking about one of the most powerful religions in the world, right?" asked Kiyora. "I mean, even I know that."


    "It isn''t important right now," said Raka. "Rubia, how is your end of things proceeding?"


    "Quite well," said Rubia. "I''ve put out a call for mercenaries. With any luck, the Iron Kingdom should be able to gain a force of minotaurs to come to our aid soon. And you, Raka?"


    "Training the militia is going well," said Raka. "My idea is for my soldiers to each instruct ten people in the basics. Once they understood that, they moved on to teach ten more in the basics. The original trainers moved on to a new group. And so on and so forth.


    "This way, we''ll have a large force of conscripts with basic training. Their numbers should make up for their lack of quality."


    "Rather creative," said Rubia. "No one expected you to be able to do this."


    "I haven''t done it yet," said Raka with a sigh. "Kiyora, what of your part."


    "I''ve been talking with the trees," said Kiyora.


    "And?" asked Raka.


    "And what?" asked Kiyora. "Your pillars have been draining the powers of the spirit for centuries. I''m not exactly in a position to get them to help you. The best I managed was convince them to slow down any Einheroth which come through here." She had done that, hadn''t she? She''d just remembered. "And even that I only got by suggesting you might consider destroying a few pillars."


    "Out of the question," said Rubia.


    "Well, then you won''t get any more help from the trees," said Kiyora.


    "I''m beginning to think you aren''t trying," said Rubia.


    "I''m beginning to think you''re an idiot for expecting me to put my full effort into this," snapped Kiyora.


    "We haven''t done anything to you that has not happened to us," said Raka.


    "She''s right, you know. Every one of us has been under the will of the Iron King since we were born," said Rubia. "Well, actually, uh, not me."


    "Really?" asked Kiyora, raising an eyebrow.


    "Queen Zigildrazia sent me as a gift to the Iron King," said Rubia. "I am his consort as well as his left hand."


    "Well, you sure dress like it," said Kiyora. "I assume he likes things drab and uninspired. What about Arraxia? Isn''t she under the will of the Iron King?"


    "Ah, yes, of course. I forgot to mention her," said Rubia. "No, she never served under the Iron King until recently." She looked at Raka. "In any case, Raka, what are your plans now?"


    "Well, I was thinking I''d take a leisurely walk to Calacosh with my bodyguard," said Raka. "Of course, if, by some strange chance, we should end up killing a giant or two while we are there, then it wouldn''t be a problem."


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    "This is a dangerous game you are playing, Raka," noted Rubia. "The Iron Kingdom wanted to let that village get wiped out as an example. If it doesn''t fall, the other villages will continue to worship Elranor. They may even press on."


    "We haven''t had many problems elsewhere," said Raka. "And if I save a village from demons, it will do a great deal to convince them of our good intentions."


    "And if you and your men are wiped out?" asked Rubia.


    "Then I don''t expect the militia would have worked out anyway," noted Raka.


    "Yeah, that''s great," snapped Kiyora. "I''m going to go take a walk myself. See how Arraxia is doing." And she stood and walked away.


    "Wait a minute-" began Raka.


    Kiyora faded away. Was it just her, or was the inner light that always emanated from her weaker now? She felt like she was being devoured one memory at a time. Everything here was tinged with a faint grayness.


    She found Arraxia lounging on a rooftop in the sun. Her tail was draped over one hip, and as Kiyora approached, she looked up. The demoness stretched her neck and rolled over, hair falling over her shoulders. "Oh, my dear partner, the Dreaming Goddess. How have you been?"


    "Save it," said Kiyora.


    Arraxia blinked and sat up. "What?"


    "I said save it," said Kiyora. "I meant I didn''t want to hear your fake claims that you consider me as an equal."


    "Ah, of course. I thought you were cursing," said Arraxia.


    "Cursing?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Arraxia. "Invoking salvation is a sign of frustration among demons."


    "So, like damn it, for mortals?" said Kiyora.


    "Yes, I suppose," said Arraxia.


    Kiyora remained silent for a moment. "...Mind if I ask you something?"


    "By all means, I am at your disposal," said Arraxia.


    "Why are you close with Rubia?" asked Kiyora.


    "Hmm?" said Arraxia.


    "William said that Fortenex had thousands of sons and daughters. You regarded them as competition," said Kiyora. "Why is Rubia different?"


    Arraxia looked serious for the first time since Kiyora had seen her. Well, that wasn''t exactly true. But there was no arrogance in her look. Nor was she affronted or enraged. She just looked grim. "We have the same Mother."


    "Oh, so she''s your full sister then," guessed Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Arraxia. "My Mother conspired with Fortenex to overthrow Queen Zigildrazia. Her plan failed, thanks to Melchious betraying her. She was captured, and I never saw her again. Rubia was taken under Zigildrazia''s wing. Meanwhile, I was given to Melchious."


    "Wow, tough break," said Kiyora. What was it like growing up under Melchious? Did demons grow up? "Were you a child or-"


    "I was created much as I am now," said Arraxia.


    "It must have been horrible," said Kiyora.


    Arraxia laughed. "Hardly. The brutal torment of Melchious gave me strength. It gave me the will and ambition to succeed."


    "I meant being created as much of an insufferable jerk as you are now," said Kiyora. "It must be painful, being unable to be even tolerable company."


    "Rubia has no ambition," said Arraxia, ignoring her. "One of these days, I''ll have to break her to my will to avoid killing her."


    "So you''ve met someone you wouldn''t murder on a whim," realized Kiyora. "Progress!"


    "Silence," said Arraxia in irritation. At that moment, Rubia scaled up onto the roof. Arraxia looked up at her with raised eyebrows. "What do you want, Rubia? Has Zigildrazia given you a new job polishing her high-heeled boots? Or has she perhaps promoted you to massaging her back?"


    "We are all of us, her slaves," said Rubia. "Whether you want to admit it or not, big sister. And if you must know, I have good news."


    "Very well. I shall humor you," said Arraxia, sitting up and getting to her feet. "Tell me, dear sister, what is the reaction has the venerable and distinguished Demon Queen?"


    Rubia drew out a letter and read aloud:


    "''Ahem,


    "My dearest Arraxia.''" She paused. "She used your pet name; I don''t know how she learned it."


    "It is not a pet name," snapped Arraxia.


    "''I am moderately impressed with the execution of your coup against Melky.''" She looked up.


    "Melky?" asked Kiyora, surprised.


    "Her pet name for Melchious," said Arraxia. "It infuriates him."


    Did she even hear herself?


    "Anyway, I''ll continue," said Rubia. "''It was most amusing to see him trying to tear his own eyes out in sheer horror. His very spirit attempted to end its existence. I am grateful to acknowledge you as the ruler of Seathorius. My only condition is that you must hold it against Melky.''" S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "That doesn''t mean anything!" said Kiyora. "That is like saying that something is blue unless it is red."


    "As always, you talk more than you understand," said Arraxia. "She is saying that she will take no direct action against Melchious or me. If she''d decided to come in on Melchious side, I might have been moderately inconvenienced."


    "Do you want me to take a message to the Queen?" asked Rubia.


    "No," said Arraxia. "Let her sweat."


    "That may slight her," said Rubia, warning in her voice.


    "Let her be slighted," said Arraxia, lying back down. "She is no concern of mine."


    "Do enjoy your delusions of superiority, dear sister," said Rubia.


    "Thank you, I intend to," said Arraxia. "Do give my regards to Mother''s killer."


    "I intend to," said Rubia before leaping off the roof.


    "Spineless weakling," said Arraxia. "What was it you have to talk to me about again? Or is this a social call?"


    Kiyora tried to remember what she came to talk about. Had she even had a plan? "Raka is sending the militia to Calacosh. Officially they are taking a leisurely walk there."


    "Well, that is an unusually proactive move," mused Arraxia. "I suppose we''ll have to do something about that." She raised a clawed finger and slicing through the air. A seam in the air was torn, and Kiyora realized she was looking through a looking glass. It was drawn up, and a huge tan face, small eyes, and a very thick jaw looked out at them.


    The eyes stared at it.


    "Grendesh, when you next go to attack the village, might I recommend you take some minions?" said Arraxia. There was no response, and she sighed. "You can talk in my presence when I ask you a question."


    "Grendesh not have any minions," said the creature. "He just have friends. We like punting humans. Like eating them too," He looked down sadly. "Friends not want to go on next raid."


    "How unfortunate. Why don''t you go speak to your mother and see what she has to say on the subject," said Arraxia. "I''m certain she knows a tribe of goblins or two who could act as disposable fodder while you eat your fill."


    Kiyora felt she should be outraged at this. But somehow, she couldn''t be. Her emotions were deadened. "So, does the Iron Kingdom know that you are doing this?"


    "No, just the Iron Council," said Arraxia. "They view me as a means by which they can purge undesirable elements. I imagine they delude themselves that they are keeping their hands clean. If they massacred Calacosh themselves, everyone might get upset.


    "But if a group of wicked giants eats them up after they were foolish enough to spurn our protection? Why that is a cautionary tale."


    "But Raka doesn''t know about this?" surmised Kiyora.


    "I expect not," said Arraxia.


    "Was this your idea?" asked Kiyora.


    "Rubia''s, actually," said Arraxia. "If anyone finds out, the Iron Council can simply blame it on her."


    "So how are you planning to betray them?" asked Kiyora.


    "Betray? I am wounded," said Arraxia. "My word is my bond. When I make a promise, I keep it. I merely choose my own time and way of keeping it."


    "Whatever," said Kiyora. "So, what is your plan anyway?"


    "Well, in the long term, nothing less than complete dominion over all realities that exist. And those that will exist did exist and may exist, of course," said Arraxia. "In the more immediate term, I''d like to start a war."


    "Mission accomplished," said Kiyora.


    "Oh, but I don''t mean a petty skirmish of the sort going on now," said Arraxia. "Or a border conflict which ends anticlimactic like that fiasco in Artarq. No, I want a real war. One which lasts decades and spills oceans of innocent blood. One in which any side accomplishes nothing. In which every battle is but a futile conflict that proceeds to my benefit alone."


    "Why?" asked Kiyora. "Don''t get me wrong, I do think you''re petty enough to do this out of spite, but you usually have a goal."


    "Oh very well, if you must know, I''ll tell you," said Arraxia. "Remember how I got my hands on the Axe of Fortenex during that affair with the raishans? Well, I would have killed William there and then. But it didn''t work for me.


    "I, in all my majesty, was denied. Well, clearly, it couldn''t have been because of any lack of cunning or power on my part. I am unrivaled in both.


    "But then I realized that Father loves pointless bloodshed. Most of my plans were taking advantage of conflicts already in motion. Father prefers it when everyone except victor dies. Thus I have chosen to humor him and initiate a plan that will spell the total downfall of the Iron Kingdom.


    "Thus proving me worthy of wielding the Axe of Fortenex."


    "And Raka?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, she can die too," said Arraxia cheerfully. "In fact, everyone can die. The more, the happier I shall be. I despise these people, and I''d much rather see them all hung from trees rather than content and free. Elranor likely has some loathsome plan to improve the livelihood of these cretins. No doubt returning the Gods to their rightful place and forgiving his enemies.


    "Truly disgusting. I don''t at all know what William sees in him."


    "Well, I know what William sees in you," said Kiyora. That got Arraxia''s attention. But she said nothing more.


    "Well?" demanded Arraxia.


    "Oh, you''re interested?" said Kiyora in mock surprise. "I thought you were omnipotent."


    "Out with it," snapped Arraxia.


    "You are like a burning building. Tragic and highly destructive," said Kiyora, "But you can''t look away."


    "You flatter me. Truly no one can really understand my pain," said Arraxia. "The pain of being such a wondrous and eternal being, trapped in so insignificant a form. Yes, as I am, I am more beautiful and terrible than any other creature, but I am limited.


    "I cannot imagine why I choose to take on such a form. Such is my curse."


    "I''d say your curse is more rampant narcissism than any status as a deity," noted Kiyora.


    Arraxia rolled her eyes. "Please. All succubi are narcissists. It''s the basis for our ideology."


    Kiyora had heard enough. She suspected Arraxia was playing up her arrogance to take people off guard. So she teleported away and didn''t care where she ended up.

 Chapter Twenty: Breaking Free

    It was a barren and miserable shore. But that was redundant. This place was barren and miserable, even if it teemed with life. The shore was slightly less miserable. There were no pillars on the sea, so more of the world''s beauty escaped the ravages of the Iron King''s will.


    Kiyora sat by the shore here, thinking. For a time, she remained there. Eventually, Alchara appeared in front of her, walking out of the distance of the waves. Kiyora privately hoped a wave would splash her, but no such luck as she came near.


    "Well, we have a problem," said Alchara.


    "No, really?" asked Kiyora, almost laughing.


    "This would never have happened if you had simply cooperated with me, Kiyora," said Alchara. "I tried to warn you, but you wouldn''t listen. What did you expect would come from working with a demon?"


    "Well, I kind of figured I could stop your imperialistic agenda," said Kiyora.


    "And as a result, you are now in the power of Arraxia," noted Alchara.


    "Not really," said Kiyora. "I''m not actually trying my hardest to break free. I''d already decided to take a break from helping the Nakmar with every little thing."


    "And I suppose being the slave to Arraxia is superior?" asked Alchara.


    "Well yeah," said Kiyora. "She talks a lot, so I can figure out what she''s up to. And I''m about to turn the tables on her anyway." When had that thought come to her? It was like she was thinking below the surface but not aware that she was doing it.


    Weird.


    "And how do you intend to do that?" asked Alchara, looking at her keenly.


    "Well, her whole plan is based around no one knowing about what they''re up to," said Kiyora. "I mean, if the Harlenorian Kingdoms found out the Iron Kingdom, their fleets would sail with the tide.


    "So all I have to do is get the word out."


    "And what are your plans for that?" asked Alchara.


    "I''m still figuring that part out, okay," said Kiyora, but that wasn''t true. She just didn''t know she''d figured it out long ago before this happened. "I''m going to make contact with the spirits of the sea." Her thoughts were getting really weird today, weren''t they? "If I can free Captain Hrungeld and Tanith, they can go tell Duke Vanion. Then they can burn the city down, or negotiate, or whatever.


    "He owes me anyway."


    "You will have difficulty leaving the area around the pillars," noted Alchara.


    "Good point," said Kiyora. "You get some of the spirits of the sea to come here so I can talk to them."


    "Who are you to command me?" asked Alchara.


    "I did rescue all those people from Black Star," noted Kiyora.


    "Ictargo rescued all those people," said Alchara. "You were one of the ones in need of saving."


    "Yeah, and he only did it because my man William broke the cloaking field," said Kiyora. "Just because you get the finishing blow on the bad guy doesn''t make you the hero. You need some drive to be a protagonist.


    "And anyway, do you really want Arraxia to get total control of Seathorius? Because we both know she will."


    "You could just ask me for help," noted Alchara.


    "Yes," said Kiyora. "But I don''t like you. You tried to force me into an arranged marriage with a guy I''d never even met. Now, are you going to help me or not?"


    "I''ll be back," hissed Alchara.


    The sun fell beyond the horizon, and Alchara was gone. Kiyora looked up at the skies, hoping to see the stars. Yet the clouds were heavy. They were always heavy in this place. Something hung overhead, filtering out even the light far above in the heavens.


    So instead, she thought. Being in Alchara''s presence brought to mind relationships. More specifically, how she was nearly forced into one brought up another thought. Arraxia.


    It was obvious, in retrospect.


    Kiyora was attracted to girls as well as boys. She hadn''t realized it until now. Not that there was anything wrong with that. It was considered a feature among Dreamer Elves. Being part of a race of five-sixths females meant that lesbianism was considered a good thing.


    But what was weirder and more disturbing was that she was particularly attracted to Arraxia. She didn''t look remotely elven, and she was anything resembling a good person. Actually, she was downright evil; she was just so upfront and charming about it one forgot it for a bit. Even William wasn''t above it all. Why else would he have verbal sparring matches with her at every chance?


    What was the point of this thought process? Ah right. What was she going to do about this? Well, Kiyora wasn''t stupid. It was obvious Arraxia had some fixation on William, and it may have extended to Kiyora over time. But this crush, if it could be called that, did not actually stop her from trying to murder them. If anything, it may have encouraged it.


    Yeah, there was no way that any kind of relationship between the three of them would ever work. They were from entirely different worlds, even if Kiyora could talk William into no easy task. No relationship with Arraxia could ever work. Not unless one party outright enslaved the other.


    Though Arraxia certainly seemed to be trying for the enslavement options.


    The night passed on, and the first morning rays of the sunlight could be seen over the horizon. As the edge of the sun came over the edge of her sight. Then there was a flash, and Alchara was there on the water. "I have done as you asked," said Alchara. "A powerful spirit of the water has come. His name is Porolus. Do as you wish."


    And she disappeared.


    "Thank you," said Kiyora before looking into the water. Out of it she suddenly emerged a huge serpent. Smaller than Jormungsk but also sleeker. "Hi."


    "I am Porolus," said the creature. "What do you want?"


    "That''s a nice name," said Kiyora. "Tell me, Porolus, do you like the Iron Kingdom?"


    "Do I like the Iron Kingdom?" Porolus seemed to consider the question. "Their pillars drain the innate energy from everything in this land. They allow demons to roam freely. They crush all belief and creativity in pursuit of satisfying their own egos."


    "I''ll take that as a no," said Kiyora.


    "More indifferent, actually," admitted Porolus. "They cannot put pillars on the seas. Jomungsk seems to like them, however."


    "Why is that?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Lord Byran Asteem''s grandfather was a friend of his," said Porolus. "He keeps the ports clear out of loyalty to that ancient friendship."


    "Ah," said Kiyora. "So, what is your relation to Jormungsk?"


    "Oh, we are brothers, he and I," said Porolus. "Though he was always the biggest, so I can''t fight him. We used to swim all the time, but he prefers the waters around the Iron City."


    "Well, I was wondering if you could maybe help me with a problem," said Kiyora.


    "What kind of problem?" asked Porolus.


    "Well, you see, there is this ship, a merchant vessel captained by a Minotaur named Hrungeld," said Kiyora. "I was hoping you could help him escape."


    "Hmm, well, that will annoy Jormungsk and infuriate the Iron Council. So I have no objection to it," said Porolus. "Still, what''s in it for me?"


    "Well, if this plan goes off without a hitch, then I could see those pillars over there being torn down," said Kiyora,


    "Hmm, well, it would be nice to see some color on the shore for once," muttered Porolus. "Alright, show me them, and I''ll deal with it."


    "Great," said Kiyora. "Go to the Iron Kingdom. Look for Captain Hrungeld. The ship is a Viokin one, crewed by minotaurs, and there should be a blonde woman on it. It''s trapped behind sea gates."


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    "Oh, those silly things," said Porolus. "I could cause a flood to break open the gates." He motioned out to sea to the clouds growing ever darker on the horizon. "There is a storm coming. I could use that. But mortals don''t like sailing in those conditions."


    "I''ll be sure to tell them that," said Kiyora. "How will I know when they should sail?"


    "When the sea gate is broken to pieces, obviously," said Porolus. "I''ve wanted to do this for years. And now I finally have an occasion."


    "Glad to hear it," said Kiyora, feeling a twinge of happiness. She stood up with more vigor than she had felt in a while and snapped her fingers.


    Some will set themselves against her as she teleported. It tried to force her not to go. To turn away. To despair. But even as drained away her power, vast more amounts of it came forward as if from some vast reservoir. A reservoir filled with endless good deeds made without expectation of repayment. Yet there was something else there as well.


    Not for the first time, she felt as though she were someone else looking at Kiyora Yagos from the outside. A mere extension of the will of some greater power long sleeping. A mere dream in the mind of a sleeper.


    The dream broke through.


    Kiyora stood on the deck of Hrungeld''s ship and saw the minotaur sitting down, carving a piece of wood. He glanced up as she approached and stood in a hurry. "Queen Yagos, what is going on? What is the meaning of this?"


    "No time to lose," said Kiyora. "I need you to get your ships ready."


    "Why?" asked Hrungeld.


    Kiyora motioned to the sea gates. "In a few minutes, those gates are going to break. I''ve made the arrangements."


    "You mean for us to break out," said Hrungeld.


    "Yes," said Kiyora. "Get to Duke Vanion. Tell him that I''ve been taken control of and that the Iron Kingdom is..." She choked. A wall seemed to be built in her throat, different from before. The former had been despairing and cold. This one was hot and seemed to claw at her throat.


    Kiyora forced herself to speak. "About to fall. They have his son. Ask him for help..."


    "Are you well?" asked Hrungeld.


    "I got mind controlled by Arraxia with help from the Iron Kingdom," said Kiyora.


    "Who?" asked Hrungeld.


    "The demoness William fought," said Kiyora. "Now get ready!"


    "Right," said Hrungeld. He gripped a bell and rang it. "All you blubbering cows, get on deck and make ready to sail! Up now!"


    The crew rushed up to the deck. Tanith was among them, and though she was dressed in normal clothes, she wore two swords at her sides. She approached Hrungeld as the men assembled.


    "What is going on, Hrungeld?" asked Tanith before she saw Kiyora. "Where have you been? When you were captured, we thought you''d been killed."


    "Sorry to disappoint you," said Kiyora. "Hrungeld explain."


    Hrungeld did explain. But he only got about halfway through the explanation. Then there was a roar and a crack of thunder. The storm had hit. A great wave of water arose and struck the sea gate. It twisted and fell inward with a terrible groan. The water poured in and seized the ship, hauling it toward the breach.


    There was a flash of thunder as they were drawn out into the open ocean. Kiyora looked up and gaped. She saw a huge muscular figure riding a chariot drawn by giant goats. In his hand was a massive hammer which he swung about. And as he swung it, great waves washed up around them. Hrungeld laughed.


    "Kreshlak is riding the air!" cried Hrungeld. "Aha! Now this will be a storm worth remembering! To your places! We''ll ride this out, then sail away!"


    Then a shadow passed overhead. Kiyora looked up to see Jormungsk looming over them. The sea serpent had sailed after them and arose. He opened his mouth, and blue fire gathered within it. Then Porolus leaped out of the water and wrapped his body around Jormungsk, dragging him down.


    The two tangled in the water as the seas raged around them. Hrungeld''s crew were fast to work, and soon they were sailing away from the two serpents.


    "Porolus, you brat!" roared Jormungsk. "What is the meaning of this?!"


    "Just playing a game," laughed Porolus, breaking free.


    "You''ll regret interfering with my duties," said Jormungsk. "I''ll crush you to pieces, you wretch."


    "Feel free to do so if you can catch me," said Porolus before taking off.


    Jormungsk was after him in a moment. He slithered through the sea with such speed that it sent great waves to either side of him. Kiyora wondered if Porolus would be caught and if Jormungsk really meant his threat. She hoped he didn''t.


    The seas continued to rage but not around them. Something drew their ship quickly away from the Iron City and further down the coast. When they were clear, Hrungeld sighed in relief.


    "That was more adventure than I''d ever wanted," he muttered. "Kreshlak be praised, but why didn''t you give me more warning?"


    "I meant to, but it happened sooner than I expected," said Kiyora. "Though I didn''t expect Kreshlak to show up. So you''re heading to Artarq now?"


    "Yes," said Hrungeld, not sounding happy about the fact. "I was charged with escorting the Axe, I have an obligation to tell Vanion of my failure."


    "Hrungeld could you take me to shore?" asked Tanith.


    "Why?" asked Hrungeld.


    "I''m of no use here," said Tanith. "But if I can find William, I should be able to fill him in on what''s happening."


    "How will that help?" asked Kiyora.


    "William''s sword is enchanted with runes. They allow Rusara to see everything that goes on around him," said Tanith. "If I tell William what is happening, Rusara will know. That way, Duke Vanion will get the message."


    "Very well," said Hrungeld. "I''ll do as you ask."


    Tanith donned her armor and took some provisions. Then she was rowed to shore. Kiyora met her there, and the blonde girl looked at her seriously. "Queen Yagos, could you guide me to William?"


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora. "I think you should head for a village called Calacosh. That is the place which William was heading last time I heard."


    Then she turned to a tree and set her hand to the bark. The trees recognized he now, she''d talked to them enough, and she melded her will with theirs, trying to draw them out. "Excuse me, um, spirits. "Listen, I''d really like to ask for a favor. My friend Tanith here needs to find my other friend William Gabriel. He wears black skull armor and has blonde hair. And while you are at it there is a chimera named Massacre somewhere in these lands. If you could lead them to William too, I''d really appreciate it."


    The trees did not particularly care. They did not hate her. But they saw no reason to help her or those with her. These were not wicked like the trees that served Wraith, but bitter and hurt. And they were still being hurt by the pillars which Kiyora could sense throughout all the land. How had anyone erected all these?


    But it gave her an idea. "If you help me, I might be able to destroy these pillars. It''s a long shot, but I''d appreciate whatever help you can give."


    That gave the trees pause. They seemed to mull it over. It was only a small amount of help that Kiyora asked. And that even one pillar being destroyed would be a mercy. So she wasn''t surprised when they agreed.


    "Thanks a bunch," said Kiyora with a smile. "Okay, Tanith, you''re good to go."


    "Great," said Tanith, putting her hands on the hilts of her swords. "I hate traveling alone."


    "How often have you done it?" asked Kiyora.


    "Not very often," admitted Tanith. "Not since I left Gel Carn when I had to go on the run. But I hate it all the same."


    "What''s Gel Carn?" asked Kiyora.


    "A vassal Kingdom of Antion," said Tanith. "In southern Harlenor."


    "Well what are you so afraid of?" asked Kiyora with sarcasm. "You''re the ultimate warrior."


    "I''m not afraid I''ll get killed in combat," said Tanith. "I''d like that. I''m afraid I''ll trip on a loose stone and break my ankle. I don''t want to die starving to death in the wilderness."


    "Good luck then," said Kiyora. "And mind the roots." S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Tanith rolled her eyes and walked into the trees. Kiyora did not walk with her. She had not forgotten how the girl had boasted to William of keeping an innocent girl as a sex slave. A girl whose village she had helped destroy. Tanith may have liked William, but Kiyora did not like her.


    So she instead walked among the woods of this place. All around her, she could feel the trees rousing themselves. The wind brought their whispers to eachother, and they began to move. Leaves were falling around them.


    The trees were waking up. Was this all because of her? Or was it something else?


    Then Kiyora came to a part of the wood darker and more terrible than anything she had seen. It was horrible to look at and even more horrible to hear. The whisper of the wind was like nails on a chalkboard. The limbs of the trees were like claws. The leaves falling around her were as black as night.


    Suddenly the leaves began to swirl faster and faster. More fell to join until there was a whirlwind of black leaves flowing around Kiyora. Then suddenly, they all fell, and Kiyora saw a goddess. Kiyora wasn''t exactly sure how she knew she was a goddess. Yet she was both beautiful and terrible. Laevian was very thin, like a willow with hair that was the color of darker leaves. Her eyes were the darkest black imaginable and without pupils.


    "So you are the Dreaming Goddess who has been manipulating my spirits for all this time, are you?" she asked.


    Kiyora realized she was terrified. Yet she also felt like she knew Laevian, and she found herself going casual again. "Manipulating? You know that asking for help doesn''t count as manipulating, don''t you?"


    "Believe what you will, girl," said Laevian. "You play the role of pawn well."


    "To who?" asked Kiyora.


    Laevian smiled. It was an evil smile. "That is a question for the ages. You are manipulated so easily that I wonder if you aren''t a player in your own right."


    "Well you''re a nice person," said Kiyora. "Who are you anyway?"


    "I am Laevian," said the goddess. "Queen of the Wilds."


    "Right," said Kiyora. "Aren''t you Alchara''s sister or something?"


    "A relation I am not proud of," said Laevian. "I''ve quarreled with her for many ages. My greatest regret is that her elves were not wholly extinguished in the wars of Anoa the Bright."


    "Yeah, I hate you too," said Kiyora. "What do you want?"


    "Merely to observe," said Laevian. "And warn you. Melchious is at hand."


    "Melchious too?" asked Kiyora, feeling more frustrated than scared. "Couldn''t you get him to reschedule his evil plan for a few weeks? I mean we''ve already got Rubia, Arraxia, the Iron Council, Lord Byran. And that isn''t even counting the people who are on my side. At this rate, I''m going to need a freaking flow chart to keep all this straight."


    "You don''t seem to be taking this very seriously," noted Laevian.


    "Would it help me win?" asked Kiyora.


    Laevian seemed to consider the question. "Quite possibly. At any rate, Elranor requested I warn you that Melchious will move soon. He has taken physical form within this world and will be up to his old tricks soon enough. Expect carnage and death."


    "Well, that''s alright then. We''ve got plenty of it already," said Kiyora. "A few more burned villages won''t be any trouble."


    "Is that meant to be humorous?" asked Laevian.


    "Yeah, kind of," said Kiyora.


    "Well, it isn''t. I don''t find it in the least bit amusing," said Laevian. "If someone set fire to those meaningless apes houses, it might destroy some trees. And Elranor would find it in poor taste." Then she was gone.


    Kiyora sighed and looked to the trees. "Look I don''t mean to complain, but could you please send me back to my own world? You obviously still have your powers, and I''m stuck. I''m not sure how much time has passed on the outside, but I''m not looking forward to doing makeup work."


    The tree whispered, and their power emerged.


    "God I never knew dreams could be this dull," muttered Kiyora.


    Then she woke up.

 Chapter Twenty-one: William and Grendesh

    The Iron Kingdom was changing. As William walked along the path some days later, he could feel it in the air. Everything he looked at bore new life. Birds began to chirp. He saw animals scurrying here and there; a doe fled from him as he walked. A brook he passed was gurgling merrily, and flowers were starting to bloom along the side of the road.


    The black pillars seemed to be struggling. It was as if some mighty power had arisen in the Iron Kingdom to contest its king''s will. Sometimes the hopelessness would return, then be driven back, then return again. In other places, it still stood dominant over the land. In still others, the pillars seemed to have given up, and the majesty of nature had gained it.


    It was like he was watching a battle or even a war. Yet there were no soldiers or generals to direct conflict. It was the spirit of the land itself that was at war.


    Yet when he came to Calacosh, he knew that the war had not yet arrived here. Misery and horrible depression were well-established. Stronger even than any place he had seen until now. A palisade of stakes surrounded the village. Yet it had been broken in several places. Several of the stone buildings looked to have been broken inward. The entire site radiated despair of such purity and depth that it hurt.


    He wanted to lie down and wither away. Or draw out his sword and fall on it. Or better yet, turn and run. William had become well accustomed to horror and despair in his adventures. He knew there was a difference between wanting to do something and doing it. But it was sorely tempting.


    How did these people stand it?


    As he approached the gate, he saw a lone man hacking firewood on a stump. As he approached, the man looked up and raised his axe. "Stop! Who goes there? Don''t come any closer now, you hear me!"


    "Calm yourself," said William. "I am not your enemy. I am here to help."


    "Help?" asked the man. "We''ve had none of that since those damn cultists raised an altar to Elranor. Now giants are devouring us one household at a time, and the Iron Kingdom has sent no aid. Who are you that wants to help?" He practically spat the last word.


    "I am William Gabriel," said William. "Elranor has sent me to slay the demon." Not true, of course. But Elranor would probably be fine with taking the credit. Probably.


    "That is mighty dangerous talk," said the man darkly. "You could be crucified just for saying it."


    "Perhaps," said William. "But that would still leave the problem of the giant."


    "That it would," said he, and the man lowered his axe. "Well, if you want to die trying to stop it, you can be my guest. But you won''t find any hospitality from me. You''ll be better off trying some way up. Old Chief Anna is the sort you are looking for. He lives by the pillar at the top of the hill."


    "My thanks," said William, and he walked past.


    "Just don''t go telling no one I directed you to him!" called the man. "Last thing I want is to be associated with your kind."


    "A friendly welcome if ever there was one," murmured William as he entered the village. The first thing he noticed as he entered was the black pillar. It stood at the very center of town, and it was far larger than normal. It almost seemed to leer at him. "There''s the pillar. I wonder if I might get that thing torn down somehow. A question for later."


    He saw a single building right behind the pillar. It was larger than the others, with an upright horizontal shape. It had a pointed, shingled roof instead of the straw that other buildings had. The stone was less rough, and bells were hanging from the doorway. The aura of the pillar seemed less in that place. As if some power within kept it back.


    William came to it. He knocked on the door lightly and waited.


    Eventually, a slit opened before him. Two eyes, one maimed, stared out at a wrinkled face. "Yes?"


    "Are you Chieftain Anna?" asked William.


    "I am," said the man. "Who are you? Dressed like an Einheroth?"


    "I am William Gabriel," said William. "I have come by the will of Elranor to protect your village from the giants."


    The slit shut, and the door opened. Out came a very thin, old man with braided white hair. He breathed in relief and set his hands on William''s shoulder. "Thank Elranor. I knew salvation would come sooner or later. Many others had lost hope. Come in, come in, I''ll provide you with what hospitality I can. Though it isn''t much."


    He let go and walked in. William followed into a room with a floor of wooden boards. There was a table at the center and a fireplace at the far end. Stone steps led upwards to the second floor. Anna had him seated, and William took off his helm. Anna brought him wine, and William awkwardly drank it as the man sat down across from him.


    "My thanks," said William. "Perhaps you can describe these giants for me?"


    "They are led by a half-demon," said Anna."One bred from Fortenex''s union with an ogress, or so I guess. He is nearly ten feet tall and has claws like daggers and teeth like speartips. Every night it comes to devour someone, sometimes two or three.


    "His two friends come less frequently. They are smaller and have hands more like you or I. They wield clubs. No one who has opposed them has thus far lived."


    "Well, I suppose it is left to me then, isn''t it?" said William, liking this plan less and less. Then he noticed something in one corner. It was an altar, and beyond it was a clay image of Elranor. "Tell me, how long have there been shrines to Elranor?"


    "Every since the Iron Kingdom abandoned us," said Anna. "When they catch you once, they burn the shrines and make examples of worshippers. When they catch you twice, they leave you for the wolves. Or the giants, as the case may be."


    "And why did you choose to continue?" asked William.


    "Our faith was more important to us than our lives. Or some of us," said Anna. "Some of us liked the idea of surviving on our own, without fear of the Iron Kingdom taking men and money from us. We had a brief period of prosperity after they left, but then the giants came."


    "Well, I hope I can help with that," said William. "When does this monster usually come?"


    "He comes through the eastern path one night every week," said Anna. "Sometimes, on bad days, he brings friends, and they feast. If you sleep now, I will wake you when he is about to arrive. Then you will be well-rested when you face him.


    "But, would you like to make a speech?"


    "Make a speech?" asked William.


    "Yes, boast of your future deeds," said Anna.


    "I''d rather not get anyone''s hopes up," admitted William. "I''ll boast when the creature is dead if I''m feeling up to it." Which he probably wouldn''t. "And if he comes with several giants, I may need to use some pragmatic methods to win."


    "You are not like the warriors of Viokinar," noted Anna.


    "No, I am not," agreed William.


    "Then, I shall prepare a bed for you," said Anna. "It is late."


    William slept comfortably that night. He hadn''t realized how exhausted he''d become from traveling on the road. He was wakened by Anna later. Looking out the window, he saw the dawn coming out on the horizon.


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    "Are you awake?" asked Anna. "The time is nearly here."


    William nodded. "Very well. Help me with my armor."


    And that was how he found himself standing in the town square, blade in hand and a shield on his arm, waiting. Nothing seemed likely to happen at once, but the air had a tenseness. Anna stood by him. "Tell me, why do you wear armor like that of an Einheroth?" he asked suddenly.


    "Coincidence," admitted William. "This armor is supposed to inspire fear in my enemies. It was made far away from Viokinar."


    "I see," said Anna.


    "Do you suppose the creature will be willing to fight me?" asked William.


    "What do you mean?" asked Anna.


    "Well, if he is much larger than me, he probably has a faster stride," mused William. "He could try and snatch someone, then run off before I could fight him."


    "...It is possible," conceded Anna.


    The conversation died as he heard a thudding sound. The ground shuddered beneath him. Then it came again. And again. And out of the forest emerged a humanoid creature ten feet tall or more. Its feet were bare, and it was totally hairless with a large belly and many muscles. Its jaw was wide, and its eyes were small. He lumbered forward with a massive club in hand. And then came goblins. Dozens and dozens of goblins.


    They swarmed toward Calacosh, and William looked at Anna. "You didn''t say he had goblins with him."


    "He never has goblins with him," said Anna. "This is the first time!"


    William remembered the goblins descriptions of what they got up to. "Get the people to safety. I''ll try to stall them."


    And he rushed down to the breach in the wall. Coming to a halt, he raised his sword and muttered an incantation to the Sun Spirit. His sword let loose a wave of light, and the goblins screeched and fled backward. As they did this, the huge creature lumbering behind them began whacking one with his club. The goblins turned and ran back toward William.


    They halted, spears in hand, trapped between their master and an enemy. But he''d have to fight them now. Unless...


    "Foul demon!" cried William. "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel! I am a paladin of Elranor and servant of righteousness! I challenge you to single combat! Or are you so craven that you must cower behind the shields of goblins!


    "Come forth! Come forth Lord of Slaughter! Come and face your end as men should!"


    There was silence as the tallest of the giants lumbered forward and scratched his head. "Grendesh not understand tiny Einheroth. What he saying?"


    William paused. Perhaps he had been too verbose. "I wish to face you personally without the assistance of outside parties."


    "Grendesh still not get," said Grendesh.


    "I want to stab you to death, and you''re too scared to fight me fair," said William.


    "Grendesh not need cheat!" cried Grendesh. "Grendesh send goblin slaves first, then eat bodies!"


    "Goblins not sign up to be eaten!" screeched a goblin.


    "Grendesh only eats if goblins fail," said Grendesh. "If goblins kill, Grendesh let goblins eat what he not eat!"


    "Whole village?" asked the goblins in wonder.


    "Yes. Whole village," said Grendesh. "Now kill tiny Einheroth!"


    The goblins scuttled forward, and everything seemed to go in slow motion. At the very least, the giants seemed content to watch. He couldn''t fight them all at once, and the breach was too wide to use a chokepoint.


    William raised his shield. Swinging his sword, he cleaved one of the goblins in twain, then backed away, warding off their spears. He slashed down another and kept on moving, doing his best to try and keep from getting hemmed in. His sword flashed in the light, and two more goblins fell headless.


    At this point, the goblins stepped back. Looking at the bodies of their fellows, they did the intelligent thing and ran for it. William let them go. At least this way Grendesh might just eat his fill and leave. Assuming William lost. Which he probably would.


    "Come back, tiny goblins!" cried Grendesh. "Or you get no food! Get back!"


    The goblins did not listen. They were now more afraid of William than Grendesh, and they scuttled off into the woods. Grendesh turned to look at William with narrowed eyes and slapped his club against the palm of his hand. William walked forward and brandished his sword.


    "Your minions are destroyed or put to flight," said William. "Depart now or face their fate."


    "Grendesh not understand again," said Grendesh in annoyance.


    "Leave now, or I will cut you into pieces," said William.


    "Grendesh, no fear! Grendesh son of Fortenex!" cried Grendesh "GRENDESH SMASH!!"


    Then Grendesh roared and charged forward with his club. William ducked under the blow and slashed at his enemy''s leg. But Grendesh moved aside with surprising grace and brought around his club again. William nearly lost his head at that time. He jabbed at the huge beast; he found his enemy once again stepping aside.


    They circled each other, and Grendesh''s club fell again and again. Whenever he struck the ground, it made a small crater within. Meanwhile, William could not hit him. The giant was just too swift.


    Finally, Grendesh brought up a leg and kicked him. William caught the leg on his shield but was thrown back. He rolled away just in time to avoid being crushed by the club. Slashing upwards, he caught Grendesh in the arm. His blade sank deep into it, and the hand came off at the wrist.


    The giant reeled back, screaming in pain. Turning, he fled weeping into the forest, leaving behind him a long trail of blood. William stood and saw the bloodied hand lying at his feet. Without healing magic, Grendesh would probably die soon.


    At that moment, the people of Calacosh were coming out. Seeing the massive dead hand, they cheered aloud. "The demon is dead! Elranor''s servant has slain him!" cried Anna. "I told you our prayers would be answered!"


    "I wouldn''t celebrate just yet. I only cut his hand off," muttered William. "We should be on our guard in case he returns."


    "Still, it is our first victory!" said Anna. "We shall mount the hand at the gates so that all can know of what you have done. We will tell tales of your victory here today."


    "Well, that is very nice, but can I have some water?" asked William, feeling suddenly parched.


    "Um, yes, of course," said Anna.


    He was brought a cup of water and downed it quickly. Then he drew off his helmet and wiped the sweat from it. "Thank you. Fighting these creatures is thirsty work."


    "You are not at all as we expected," admitted Anna.


    "I suppose not. I don''t enjoy boasting of my achievements. If I were you, I would be careful about how you boast of mine," said William. "Elranor has delivered you, but it is not his will that you should die by the hands of the Iron Kingdom.


    "Be silent in your faith. Serve him through your deeds and in your hearts, and talk only where and when it is safe to do so.


    "Now, if you could cast down that pillar, I will heal any injured or sick people in this village."


    Dead silence. "You would have us cast down the pillar?" asked Anna.


    In his heart, William felt as though the pillar must be cast down. Now, and not later. Something urgent was about to happen, and this village could suffer terribly. "Yes. It is keeping out the gods. Only once they are destroyed can Elranor, and the Gods return."


    "But, if we break it, the Iron Kingdom will destroy us all," said a woman. "They''ll kill every man, woman, and child. The last time someone did that, they didn''t even stop at the village responsible. They crucified everyone in the region!"


    "I see," said William. The persistence pressed him further, but he could see no reason to argue further. "You could say that the giant did it." There was that feeling that he was making a mistake. But they were uneasy. "Instead, pray to Elranor for deliverance. In time he will find means to free you."


    "Anna, soldiers approach!" cried someone. "They bear the symbol of the Iron Kingdom." sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Elranor helps us," said Anna. "Quickly, everyone back to the village. William, you will hide within my home. You must not let them see you."


    William followed him without thinking, and it wasn''t long before he saw a troop of men approaching. Yet only a few were soldiers like those he had seen with Byran. These men went clad in leather armor. They held spears and knives and some axes meant for wood rather than necks.


    As he reached the doorway of Anna''s home, he halted and cursed himself. "Damn it. I should have made for the forest while I had a chance."


    "Too late now," said Anna. "Stay hidden. I''ll go and meet with them, and you may make your escape later." Then he shut the door. William went to a window and peered out of the crack. The soldiers had reached the house now. They were led by a dwarven woman wearing a long curved sword at her side. Anna approached and prostrated himself. "Soldiers of the Iron Kingdom, we are honored by your presence."


    "I am Lady Raka Asteem," said the woman. "My men and I have come to assist you against the demon terrorizing this place." Her gaze turned to the sight of the battle. "However, I see someone has already beaten us to it."


    "A wandering hero," said Anna. "Long since gone from here."


    "Really? I beg to differ," said Raka. "Those bodies are recent. Freshly killed. Whoever did this would still be nearby. Which begs the question, why are you lying to me, chieftain?"


    "...He was fearful of discovery," said Anna. "After he killed the demon, he requested I claim he was long gone to any who asked. Since he had just saved our village, I chose not to question him. We did not think any help was coming."


    "That was foolish. One must always question everything," said Raka. "Where is he now?"


    "I..." began Anna. "I do not know."


    "I disagree," said Raka, setting a hand to her blade. "I must insist you tell me."


    "He has-" began Anna.


    William had seen enough. If he waited any longer, someone could die. He opened the door and walked out, sword sheathed. "That''s enough. I''m here."


    Raka glanced up. "Who are you?"


    "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel," said William. "I have traveled far. This village was in need and on the way, so I assisted them. My only goal is to get home."


    "And why did you request they lie about your presence?" asked Raka.


    "An old enemy of mine has a position of influence in this place," said William. "I do not want to alert them to my presence."


    "That is unfortunate," said Raka. "While I appreciate you defending the Iron Kingdom''s subjects, I must take you into custody. Throw down your sword."


    William drew the blade and eyed the men around him. Then he cast it down and, with it, his shield. "As you wish. But first, know that I am being tracked. My Father is a man of immense power. I have no doubt he knows of everything that transpires. If I am killed, then he will know."


    Raka drew up the sword and eyed the blade. Then her eyes widened. "You''ve put me in a difficult position."


    "That was the intended purpose," said William.


    "Take him into custody. But see to it that he is treated with all dignity," said Raka. "Tomorrow, we''ll send him to the Iron City for the Council to decide on."


    It could have been worse. Not much worse, though.

 Chapter Twenty-two: Hardship

    Kiyora woke up in bed and found the morning light drifting through the window. Brushing her hair out of her face, she looked around and at her arms. No white sheets like in a hospital, no crisp white walls, no suicide-proof windows. Just her normal books and videos. "And no IVs. That''s good."


    Dressing, she made her way downstairs. Mom was cooking breakfast, as always. "Good morning, Mom."


    "Oh, good morning Kiyora," said Mom. "Did you sleep well?"


    "Yeah, I had some really crazy adventures, actually," said Kiyora. "Mind control, scheming, and stuff. I kind of expected to wake up in the hospital or something."


    "Well, I''m happy to say it is only the morning afterward. You''ve more than your share of adventures for a lifetime," said Mom. She used the pink spatula Dad bought to separate mushrooms from finely sliced onions. "I heard from your father, by the way. He should be back by tomorrow."


    "Oh, that''s great," said Kiyora. "Um, about my question?"


    "You wanting to sign up to become a Dream Sage, you mean?" said Mom.


    "Yeah. Um, I mean, I''m already involved in all these things," said Kiyora. "So, I figure some training wouldn''t hurt."


    "I know," said Mom with a sigh. "What happened a few days ago made it clear that you are risking your life no matter what happens. I suppose you must have some training. But I''ve made arrangements."


    "What kind of arrangements?" asked Kiyora, curious.


    "I hired some Dream Sages to set up wards on this house," said Mom. "If any more spider demons make a go at my home, they''ll have a nasty surprise waiting for them."


    "Thanks, Mom," said Kiyora.


    After breakfast, Kiyora printed out a resume for the Department of Spiritual Defense. Then she went into the living room by a window to start filling it out. And Alchara above was it dull. Every moment was an absolute slog, and it was all she could do to keep writing. She set forth the full power of her will, wrestling with the wall of sheer boredom set against her.


    Long did she strive with it. Yet though all her power was set against it, it held against her. At last, Kiyora despaired. She rolled onto her back and into the air was thrown her pen to land on the floor as she let loose a groan of sheer apathy.


    "Alchara above, filling out a resume is boring," said Kiyora. "Dad must be glad he doesn''t have to do it. Ugh..."


    Then she heard a tapping noise on the window. She glanced up and saw Laurus standing there, tapping. "Laurus?" she stood up. "Why are you tapping on my window? Knock the front door like an adult!"


    Laurus disappeared. A few moments later, there was a knock at the door, and Kiyora opened it to see Laurus on the other side. He looked apologetic. There was a bruise on his face. How did he keep getting those? "Sorry, I figured I''d surprise you," he said. "So, was I interrupting something?"


    "No, I''m just working on my resume to apply for a position as a Dream Sage," said Kiyora. "How did you get that bruise?"


    "I uh, I fell," said Laurus.


    It was a lie. And Kiyora had heard it before. That was it; she was going to call him out on it. Something was happening to him to give him those injuries.


    "Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to go out and get coffee together?"


    Kiyora froze. Her heart fluttered. "You mean with the others?"


    "I was actually thinking just us," admitted Laurus.


    "Are you asking me on a date, Laurus?" asked Kiyora, smiling.


    "Yeah, we can call it that," said Laurus, looking away.


    Kiyora considered it. Laurus was pretty nice-looking, come to think of it. It wasn''t sheer raw sex appeal like Arraxia and her sister, and he wasn''t a conquering hero like William. But he was pretty cool and had set a spider demon on fire. "...Sure, but you can''t smoke while we''re doing it."


    "I don''t smoke in restaurants!" said Laurus defensively.


    "Sure, you don''t," said Kiyora.


    "Oh, come on, give me some credit," said Laurus. "Did you see what I did in that mall with a cigarette?"


    "You mean setting Rioletta on fire?" asked Kiyora. "Yeah, that was pretty cool. Tricking her into falling off the balcony was a nice move too. You want to go now?"


    Laurus stuttered. "Yeah, sure."


    They made their way out of the house and along the sidewalk. As they walked, Kiyora considered things. When Tenius had first appeared, Laurus had approached him. Laurus wasn''t ordinarily that friendly. "Hey, Laurus."


    "Yeah?" he asked.


    "Why did you go up to Tenius anyway?" asked Kiyora. "I thought you hated the guy."


    "I don''t hate Tenius. I never did. I just liked mocking him for being completely out of control of his own life," said Laurus. "What could be more pathetic than a life where you get everything you ever wanted without even having to ask?"


    "A lot of things," mused Kiyora. "But I don''t think you''re giving him due credit. I mean, he practices sword combat, doesn''t he?" She''d seen him do it through William''s eyes.


    "I guess," said Laurus. "But what good is sword combat in this day and age? Guns are where it''s at. I mean, remember back in that elevator?"


    "I''m pretty sure that people with proper training can make guns irrelevant," said Kiyora. "William just didn''t have it."


    "Look, I don''t care how good your training is," said Laurus. "If you are faced with enough guns firing at you all at once, you are going to die." S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Not spirits, though," said Kiyora. "I mean, I read that spirits and demons and angels are much less affected by guns. Something about them being an impersonal weapon. That''s why they have Dream Sages in the first place."


    "It''s because of spirit," said Laurus.


    "Hmm?" asked Kiyora.


    "When you are swinging a sword at someone, you are focusing your will through it," explained Laurus. "Acts of will damage spirits, not physical things. When you fire a gun, though, it''s a lot harder to put yourself into the bullets. I read about a couple of people who could do it, though."


    "You''ve read up on it?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yeah," said Laurus. "When I was possessed by Laughing Wraith, I was driven to study the techniques of Dream Sages. Well, what I could find was common knowledge. It wasn''t much. Can we talk about something else?"


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Sure," said Kiyora, feeling awkward. "Um... you start."


    Laurus bit his lip. "Had any good dreams lately?"


    "Well, I got possessed by an evil demon. Sort of," said Kiyora. "It''s more like our wills are influencing, and we are engaged in a sort of battle for control. The problem is we''re kind of cooperating at the same time. We have some mutual interests."


    "Knitting?" guessed Laurus with a smirk.


    "Shut up," said Kiyora. "I mean realpolitik stuff okay. Like uh, see, we''re both allies with this Duke called Vanion Gabriel. And he''s kind of manipulating everyone in this power play. Well, actually, everyone is manipulating everyone.


    "I''m really not sure who is pulling the strings at this point."


    "I kind of know the feeling," said Laurus. "I''d break off your connection with her. Now. I''m not kidding."


    "What''s the big deal?" asked Kiyora.


    "When Wraith possessed me, I could blend in perfectly. I went about my daily routine, hardly noticing him sometimes," said Laurus. "And then one day I''d find myself doing some innocent little thing. I didn''t know or care that it was part of a scheme to cause all kinds of misery.


    "You don''t notice when they are affecting you. You just act as they want you to."


    "Oh, come on. I can handle it," said Kiyora.


    "When was the last time you went to Seathorius?" asked Laurus.


    "Seathorius?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yeah, the land you rule," said Laurus.


    "I uh, well, it''s actually been a while in dream terms," mused Kiyora.


    "Go there," said Laurus. "See what is happening."


    "Why?" asked Kiyora. "Why is it important to you?"


    "Kiyora, I sometimes remember things. Things which I got from Laughing Wraith," said Laurus with a shrug. "I know that he hated you a lot. He hated you because you were one of his enemies in Seathorius. Your very presence there screwed with him.


    "If someone else is screwing with you, it could be affecting the land itself."


    "...Right, I remember," said Kiyora. "William told me something about that. I''ll go check it out." And she almost turned around before Laurus caught her by the shoulder.


    "Not now," said Laurus. "We''re on a date, remember?"


    "Oh, right," said Kiyora. "Yeah. Sorry."


    Another awkward silence.


    "Hey Laurus!" came a call. "Kiyora!"


    She looked up and saw the last person she wanted to see. It was Tenius approaching them. The boy was clad in a martial artist''s uniform as if he had just finished practice. It looked good on him. Why was Kiyora''s heart skipping a beat? She didn''t even like him, and Laurus had a much better personality.


    Kiyora was now certain of foul play on Alchara''s part.


    "Oh, hello, Tenius," said Laurus in an irritated tone. "How are you?"


    "Pretty good," said Tenius. "I uh, had some of the weirdest dreams a few nights ago. Hey, Kiyora."


    Kiyora pointedly refused to blush. There was an impulse to do so, but it was not entirely her own. She fought it back and rejected it. "Hey."


    Tenius remained silent for a moment. What was it like? Being on the Black Star?"


    "Unpleasant. Very unpleasant," said Kiyora. "The poor thing was begging for death. While I was trapped, I could hear the silent screams of all those trapped within Rioletta''s webs. Why do you ask?"


    "Well, I just have this weird feeling that I... uh, I feel like I was there," said Tenius. "Do you think you could-"


    "We''re kind of on a date, Tenius," said Kiyora.


    "Oh, right, I uh, I''ll just see you at school," Tenius looked like a kicked puppy.


    "Could he be more annoying?" muttered Kiyora as they walked toward the coffee shop.


    "Tenius is sheltered," said Laurus. "I talked to him. Before he came here, he was living somewhere on a mountain. Everyone he knew was either an older male relative or an attractive female trying to bang him. He hasn''t really lived in the real world until now.


    "Apparently, he went to another school before this one. It didn''t end well for him."


    "You don''t know the half of it," muttered Kiyora as they entered the shop.


    "What do you mean?" asked Laurus.


    "I''ll tell you in a minute," said Kiyora. And she suddenly thought she knew more about what had happened than she thought. Odd. "Let''s order our coffee first."


    Kiyora did not tell him for a minute. She changed the subject to anything except Tenius. They ordered their coffee and talked about minor things. When they finished their coffee, they went to see many other things, a museum and a fair. It was fun, and at the end of it, Laurus walked her back home.


    The sun was setting by that point.


    And to Kiyora''s surprise, Dad was painting on the front porch. Kiyora and Laurus halted here, and she looked to him. "This was fun, Laurus. Thank you." She considered kissing him on the cheek. But she hesitated, and before she could decide the moment was lost. "We should do this again sometime."


    Kiyora and Laurus made their way up to Dad. His paintbrush was wet and in his hand. However, his canvass was blank. His eyes narrowed, and he did not notice her as he bit his lip.


    She tapped him on the shoulder. He started and looked up to see her. "Oh, hello, Kiyora!"


    "Dad, what are you doing back so early?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, I felt I ought to return as quickly as possible," said Dad. "So, I ended things earlier and came back. Laurus, how are you?"


    "Oh, I''m fine," said Laurus. "Kiyora, I have to head back."


    "Right, see you later," said Kiyora.


    Laurus looked like he wanted to say more. But he just smiled. "Right."


    Kiyora watched him go then looked at Dad. "So, how is the painting going?"


    "Awful, if I must be honest," said Dad. "This canvass is resisting me."


    "Resisting you?" asked Kiyora. "What do you mean?"


    "Well, sometimes, when you are making art, you find yourself facing a blank page. No matter what you do, you simply can''t get it to become anything else," said Dad. "It is perhaps the greatest foe any artist can face."


    "So how do you beat it?" asked Kiyora.


    "You use it. Hardship is the source of all great stories," said Dad. "A story where nothing goes wrong is not at all interesting. You must take the troubles you face and learn from them. Without a struggle, nothing is worth having."


    "So how are you going to fix this?" asked Kiyora.


    "I have no idea. I''ve been staring at this wall for an hour," said Dad with a smile. "I haven''t been able to climb it or break it down. The people beyond it are most unpleasant and won''t open the gates. I suppose I could focus on the outside of the wall, but that would still leave a great blank spot."


    "Wall?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, you see, I''m thinking of making a sequel to a previous piece I made," said Dad. "Look over there. What do you think?" He motioned to a canvass he had set aside. Kiyora looked at it.


    What she saw was the Iron Kingdom. More specifically, the Iron City. It stood tall and proud and forlorn beneath the gaze of a figure clad in steel armor who stood atop a high tower. In his hand was a great broadsword. "It''s... very nice. What is it?"


    "A formidable city at the center of a broken kingdom," said Dad. "It holds dominion over all who surround it and keep them in an iron grip. They have many enemies. Yet their fortifications are high enough that they can withstand them all.


    "Cheer and goodwill are shut out by these columns. So long as the city stands, this Kingdom will remain as it is, slowly decaying but never dying. Existing but never living, It simply fades, little by little, as the world around it moves on."


    "So what are you going to do?" asked Kiyora.


    "...Well, I can''t think of a natural way to bring down the city, so I''m just going to paint a dragon burning it down," admitted Dad.


    "That seems a bit random," mused Kiyora. "You''ve never painted dragons before."


    "Well, I feel dragons are overused," admitted Dad. "But making one a mindless and bloodthirsty monster intent on destruction? That sounds rather original to me."


    "It''ll be a bit hard on the people who live in the city," mused Kiyora.


    "Well, of course, the city won''t be completely destroyed," said Dad. "Its walls will be torn down and its fortifications ruined. But a destined hero could appear and defeat the creature. Then the hero forces the Kingdom into the world."


    "Isn''t there a way to do that without burning down the city?" asked Kiyora.


    "Perhaps. Perhaps not. I sometimes wonder if demons and monsters and all those truly defy the gods," said Dad. "Or if they merely carry out their will indirectly."


    "What do you mean?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, suffering is very unpleasant while it lasts," said Dad. "But sometimes a bit of pain can spur one into changing for the better. If you never lose anything, you wouldn''t appreciate anything you had."


    "Dad, that doesn''t make sense at all," said Kiyora. "There are a lot of people who suffer and don''t come out better for it."


    "Perhaps. I''m merely thinking out loud," said Dad. "Now, how shall I make this dragon? It should be like a snake, almost cobralike. With eyes like fire. Tormented eyes filled with pain. Its breath should be death, its teeth, and claws like swords. The beating of its wings should create whirlwinds.


    "Yes, that will be very impressive."


    "How is anyone supposed to kill something like that?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, obviously, by wielding the very powers that this city has suppressed until now," said Dad. "The dragon is a sort of reckoning, a representation of the people''s sins. The hero is salvation, offered freely by the powers they forsake."


    "You mean the powers which sent the dragon attacking them in the first place?" asked Kiyora. "Sounds to me like they had a good reason for forsaking them."


    "You are overthinking this a bit, Kiyora. There isn''t a storyline to these paintings," said Dad. "Anyone who looks at them may draw whatever conclusion they want about them."


    "Right. I''m going to read for a bit, okay," said Kiyora.


    "Of course," said Dad, "have fun." Then he paused. "Oh, before you go, there is one other painting I''d like to show you. I made it on the trip here." He stood and drew out another canvass and showed it to her. "What do you think?"


    Kiyora stared and saw a picture of Felix. The boy was standing before that same Iron Figure, a box in his hands. The Iron Figure must have been a giant, for his thigh was taller than Felix was. Massacre was lying on the ground, bleeding from the side, her head limp. All the world was utterly bleak, and the blade of the Iron King was falling to strike down Felix.


    "...Oh damn," said Kiyora.

 Chapter Twenty-three: Rescue

    William had been led with his hands bound along another road. Four soldiers of the Iron Kingdom guarded him. The air was tense, as though awaiting change. He sensed the liveliness that had seeped into the trees before had been beaten back. Yet it was still there, waiting below the surface and waiting to explode outward.


    His guards dragged him along none too gently. Some of them eyed his weapons and equipment as they were carried. The looks made him suspect they had no intention of letting him live. He did not see much reason why they would know to fear Duke Vanion Gabriel. Though they surely would if they knew how powerful Father was.


    But they did not. Which meant William had to free himself or die here. He writhed his hands in their bindings as they made their way along. He could feel them straining.


    "We''re far enough now, aren''t we?" said a soldier.


    "No. Not yet. Some of the villagers might find him," said another. "Let''s go a little way on." Stay calm. Keep stretching the restraints. They were yielding.


    "The armor is nice, isn''t it?" asked one.


    "I want the sword," said another.


    "Both of you shut up," said the leader. "These weapons and armor are going to the Iron Council. They''ll decide what to do with it." He paused and looked to a mournful stump. "That''s far enough. Force him to kneel by that stump."


    "I was led to believe your orders were to take me captive," said William, stalling as he strained his bindings. It wouldn''t do him any good to fight them. But he might escape. He''d lose his armor and sword, but those could be replaced.


    "That was only for the benefit of the villagers," said the soldier. "Raka can''t have us be seen killing their savior. So we''ll cut your head off here and leave your body for the wolves in the woods. No one will be the wiser.


    "The Iron Council gave orders that you be killed if found."


    "May I ask why?" asked William.


    How the hell should I know?" asked the soldier. "Grab him!"


    And then the man stiffened. William saw someone standing, hidden by the leader''s form, but an elegant blade was visible. Then the leader''s head fell from his shoulders, and his body collapsed, spewing blood.


    "Kill him!" cried one of the soldiers. "I''ll guard the prisoner!"


    Two of them rushed forward, but their blades were parried, and their throats were cut. Blood spewed over the attacker. The one guarding him backed away toward William. William broke his restraints and wrapped the rope around the man''s throat as he did. The man struggled, and then a blade passed through his stomach and another through his heart.


    The swords were an inch from William''s torso. He threw down the body and stepped back. He would need to find a weapon and- Tanith?


    Tanith was standing in front of him with a cheerful expression. A huge grin was on her face, and her eyes were bright. She was also drenched in blood and gore from the men she had just butchered. "Hey, Will!"


    "Tanith, what are you doing here?" asked William. "You''re supposed to be escorting the Axe of Fortenex!"


    "Well, you know what they say about best-laid plans," said Tanith, wiping her blade off the grass. "Not that I''m complaining. I haven''t had a chance to kill anything in months. Do you want to get your armor on, or do you need my help?"


    "Hang on," said William.


    As he donned his armor with her help, he reflected on how grateful he was to have a friend in her. Not many people would come out here. When he was finished, he looked up at Tanith. "Do you think someone will come looking for them?"


    "I doubt it," admitted Tanith. "The Iron Kingdom is short-staffed. Frankly, they are dead in the water at this point."


    "Where are Felix and Massacre?" asked William. "And Hrungeld?"


    "As I said, it''s a long story. Let''s talk about it a bit further on," said Tanith. "I like blood, but it can get old."


    William finished donning his armor and sword and retrieved his personal effects. Then they walked on. Tanith kept them going at a hard pace and found he could hardly keep up with her. When they were children, she always ran ahead and even walked; she did it quickly. Finally, he stopped.


    "This is far enough," said William. She stopped. "Now, Tanith, I need you to tell me everything. And I do mean everything. Tell it to me like you were making a mission report to my father."


    "Why?" asked Tanith. "Oh, right, the scrying runes. Alright, I''ll tell you everything I know."


    "First, let''s start a fire," said William. "It is getting cold." S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    They gathered sticks and dried leaves and lit the fire, though it took several tries. Felix would have had it done easily. Then Tanith told him just what she had been up to. Tanith and Hrungeld had been taken captive by the Iron Kingdom, which was horrible. Fortunately, Kiyora had freed them and wakened the trees. That much was good news. But even that came with its troubling news.


    "So Kiyora has fallen under Arraxia''s sway," said William.


    "She didn''t seem all that beat up about it," admitted Tanith.


    "That is Arraxia''s way," said William. "When she takes control, you don''t notice. Everything seems natural to you, as though obeying her were breathing."


    "Creepy," said Tanith, sounding more interested by the second.


    "You don''t know the half of it," said William.


    "So when she had you under her control, did you two do anything?" asked Tanith curiously.


    "What?" said William.


    "Just curious. I mean, from how you talk about her-" began Tanith.


    "No!" said William, horrified at the implication. "I would never!"


    "Fine, you don''t need to get so touchy," said Tanith. "Well, I''ve told you my story. What about you?"


    William told her his tale. She listened carefully to the story of Lucius and the Withering King. She paid particular attention to the description of the corpses throughout the tunnels. When he came to the Einheroth he had freed, she laughed outright.


    "You felt sorry for an undead?" she asked.


    "Yes," said William.


    "You are a sap, you know that," said Tanith, slapping him across the back.


    "I am well aware," said William. "At any rate, after the creature abandoned me, I convinced some goblins that I was an Einheroth. They led me out by a side entrance, though it was a very near thing."


    "Oh?" asked Tanith. "Did you feel sorry for them, too?"


    "I was hoping that the Withering King would find out and have them all killed," said William. "They steal babies from cradles."


    "Well, it looks like you have some aggression after all," said Tanith. "I''m proud of you."


    "Don''t patronize me, Tanith," snapped William.


    "Fine, fine, what do we do now?" said Tanith, still smiling.


    "Well, I suppose we should find Felix and Massacre and get out of here," said William. "However, Kiyora being imprisoned is a problem. If the Iron Kingdom manages to break her to their will, they will have power, Seathorius.


    "I wish I knew how Father would react to all this. It would make my plans much easier to make."


    "Well, if I were him," said Tanith, "I''d ally with the Viokin Minotaurs. Then launch a two-pronged invasion of the Iron Kingdom. Rape, pillage, burn, have a celebration, and bring colonists in to take the place of the people we killed off."


    "I''m sure the Iron Kingdom would be hard put to it," said William. "But I don''t think he would even need the minotaurs. All Father would have to do is bring a token force, and he could rally the locals to destroy this place on his behalf."


    "You haven''t seen the fortifications on the Iron City, Will," said Tanith. "They are no joke. I guess that they''ll abandon the villages and hole up in there until the storm blows over. No one can attack them from the sea, either."


    "Maybe not. But no city can hold out against a siege forever," mused William. "The Iron Kingdom is doomed."


    "You sure?" asked Tanith.


    "Absolutely," said William. "They have no gods to assist them. They have alienated all their neighbors. If you noticed their weakness, then so has Hrungeld. Sooner or later, the minotaurs will get it into their heads to take this land. When that happens, who will resist them?


    "Their forces are spread thin. Their populace fears and despises them. They are facing overwhelming odds. Those odds will worsen if they suffer even a single major defeat." And worst of all, they probably don''t even know it."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Tanith.


    "Think, Tanith. They knew who I was," said William. "Arraxia told them about me. I am the son of one of the most powerful people in Harlenor. They could have taken me as an honored guest. Then they could have politely asked me to go to father and get him to send help. Kiyora would have helped too.


    "Instead, they have made me their enemy."


    "I don''t see them being doomed," said Tanith. "I mean, they could still hold out."


    "History is filled with heroes who held out against overwhelming odds," said William. "But what they all had in common was motivation. No one I''ve met in this place is motivated. They regard atrocity and tragedy as daily facts of life.


    "It would take a miracle for anyone to win a war on two fronts in this situation. And they''ve shut out the gods."


    "So, what do you think will happen?" asked Tanith.


    "Well, in a best-case scenario, Byran will stop the Einheroth cold," said William. "If he does that and draws back his hand, he could get some breathing room. He might consolidate his hold over the villagers by training them.


    "At which point, he would only need to say the word, and he could make himself King. If he did that and passed some reforms, I could see them growing stronger. But they tried to steal the Axe of Fortenex. An artifact so deadly that King Andoa personally wrote to request it be sent to Antion. Antion has perfect reasons to declare war."


    "They might not," said Tanith.


    "Why wouldn''t they?" asked William. "We could invade this place, conquer it, and colonize it with our people."


    "Andoa II is pretty opposed to offensive wars," said Tanith. "He''s gotten a bit weak in his old age."


    "Even if he is, this is only if Byran stops the Einheroth," said William. "He might be cut down and destroyed. If that happens, they haven''t a prayer.


    "And even if Father doesn''t invade, what of the minotaurs? Hrungeld has surely guessed as much as you. He knows the Iron Kingdom is weak. If they invade, it''s over."


    "What makes you so sure the Viokins will win?" asked Tanith.


    "I spent a few days in a far-flung village of the Viokin Minotaurs. It was considered one of their smaller and more obscure places. The village I just left, in the heartland of the Iron Kingdom, was tiny in comparison." said William. "The average minotaur will crush the average human in a fight every time. The Viokins will have both strength and numbers.


    "This is all guesswork, of course. And it could be completely wrong. I have only my own experiences to judge by, but they line up with yours. And it paints a grim picture of the future. It also doesn''t answer the question. What do we do?"


    "Well, we should probably Felix and Massacre first," said Tanith. "Once we have the Axe, we can think about getting it out of here before the fire starts."


    "But that''s just it. We can''t," said William. "Even if I was willing to abandon every man, woman, and child in this kingdom to oblivion, I couldn''t. I can''t leave Kiyora in the Iron Kingdom''s thrall."


    "What can we do?" asked Tanith. "Look, I''m all for slaughtering my way through an entire army, I wish I could do it, but I''ve got limits. And we don''t even know how we could free her. The pillars are doing it, but we don''t have time to cast down every single one."


    "It is thus fortunate that you have a being of my power and benevolence to assist you," said a voice.


    Arraxia stepped out of the trees and into the light of the fire.


    Tanith threw a dagger at her.

 Chapter Twenty-four: Reunited

    Arraxia dodged aside from the dagger, but Tanith was on her, duel swords in hand. Her tail lashed out and dodged one of Tanith''s blades. The demoness'' bosom heaved with the movement. Arraxia grabbed Tanith by one hand as Tanith''s blonde hair flew around her. The blade was held in place. Tanith brought around her blade to strike at her neck. Arraxia stepped back before Tanith kicked Arraxia in the chest. As her steel boot hit the demoness, her enemy returned to smash against a tree. As she recovered, Tanith went at her with duel swords.


    Arraxia ducked under the blades that would have beheaded her. The blades cut clean into the bark of the trees without slowing. The demoness slashed with a claw at Tanith, but the girl leaped back, stance ready. For a moment, they stood in place, gazing at one another. Arraxia smiled as they circled.


    "As violent as ever, I see," said Arraxia. "You really should listen to your master''s words on this. I''d hate for you to choke on your leash."


    "Let me show you just how violent I can be, demoness," said Tanith in a tone of bloodlust.


    "Enough," said William, who had not expected her to show up again sooner or later. This fight was wholly pointless and served to achieve nothing. So he rose in his armor with a hand on his sword. "Tanith, step back. She may have something of value to say."


    Tanith stepped back but did not sheathe her swords. "Whatever you say, William."


    "Arraxia," said William. "What do you want?"


    "Why, to provide you a means by which you can free your precious Dreaming Goddess, of course," said Arraxia. She was leaning forward and cupping his cheek.


    "From you, you mean," said William, shifting from her grip.


    "But of course," said Arraxia, tail flicking around her waist. "In truth, you should thank me. Our wills are combined through Baltoth''s Retribution. Since I am wholly immune to the pillars, some of that immunity passes to her."


    William didn''t believe it for a second. "And I suppose that makes you wholly blameless in all things. And that you have only the best intentions. Shall I ignore your blatant ambitions while you ready the knife to drive into my back?"


    "I would ever so appreciate it if you could," said Arraxia, walking past him with swaying hips. The crescent tip of her tail moved past his throat. "It will be just like that wonderful trip you made to Gel Carn."


    "I will not," said William, keeping his gaze on her. "What are you proposing, and how do you mean to achieve it?" Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The source of the power of the pillars is an artifact known as the Void Stone. It fell from the stars many centuries ago and lies deep within the palace of the Iron King," said Arraxia. She leaped onto a branch, lay on one side, sticking a hip out, head supported on a claw. "Destroy it, and you will break the spell over the Iron Kingdom. Your gods will be able to enter it once more. They can do their insufferable godly things in all their hypocritical glory." Her tail flipped.


    "Ah," said William. "And what do you gain out of all this?"


    "Wouldn''t you like to know that?" asked Arraxia mockingly.


    William had had enough. "No. I will not cooperate until you tell me what you intend to gain from all this?"


    "Oh, very well," said Arraxia. "It isn''t as though my will can be thwarted. I hope you will create enough distraction for me to achieve my true agenda. More than that, I will not tell you. And if you don''t cooperate after that, I''ll set the Iron Kingdom on Felix and Massacre and find another way."


    "You know where they are?" said William.


    "But, of course," said Arraxia. "And if you help me, I''ll bring you to them. Really, have I ever once broken my word?"


    "You seem to have pledged loyalty to the Iron Kingdom," noted William. "And you''ve certainly broken that."


    "Ah, but I never pledged loyalty," said Arraxia. "I merely agreed to serve until such a time as it was no longer convenient. It is not my responsibility if they assume my loyalty is farther than that."


    "Lead me to Felix and Massacre first," said William. "As a show of good faith."


    "Well, you do drive a hard bargain, don''t you?" asked Arraxia. "So be it. Follow me."


    Arraxia walked into the trees and motioned. William looked to Tanith, whose blades were resting on her shoulders. She nodded, and they pressed on after her.


    "So this Void Stone," said Tanith. "Where does it come from?"


    "Oh, I''m not entirely sure," admitted Arraxia. "I''m only glad it isn''t called the Iron Stone. It is rather unpleasant looking. It fell from the sky hundreds of years ago and emanates disbelief."


    "Disbelief?" asked Tanith, raising an eyebrow.


    "Yes, gods draw their power from belief," said Arraxia. "They cannot act without worshippers."


    "Not true at all," said William. "Gods don''t gain power from worship. Rather worship gives them the authority to use their power to perform miracles. There is a difference."


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    "Not really. If you cannot enact your will upon the universe, then you have no power," said Arraxia. And she summoned a black flame into one hand for emphasis. "A single mortal can have more power than the most triumphant gods. Assuming more people listen to what he says and his will is done."


    "I didn''t know you had such a high opinion of mortals," mused William.


    "I don''t," said Arraxia, crushing the flame in one hand. "Mortals are like a blank canvas. Or a block of wood. Some of them are made into one thing. Some of them are made into another. Still, others become unusable for anything and must be thrown away.


    "Of course, the Iron Kingdom doesn''t regard it like that. In their ideal world, all the painters would be locked out of their workrooms."


    "How unexpectedly contemplative of you," said William. "At any rate, I assume you want the Iron Kingdom intact at the end of this?"


    "But, of course," said Arraxia. "There isn''t much point in ruling if everyone else is dead."


    William suspected that to be a lie as well. Arraxia could probably get on perfectly well talking o a mirror for a few years. It seemed her ideal companion.


    "You can have it," said Tanith. "This place is a hellhole. Getting set on fire could only improve it."


    "Now that is uncalled for," said Arraxia. "Hell has a great deal more agony and impaled corpses."


    "Tanith," said William, "the Iron Kingdom is keeping the Withering King in check. If they were wiped out, the undead could spread to the surface. In which case, the Withering Might become a threat once again. And even if they didn''t, I''d rather the Viokins not dispose of one of their major enemies. They may find Harlenor an ideal secondary target."


    "Oh right," said Tanith. "Let''s find Felix then."


    There was a feral screeching noise at that moment, and William felt a sudden presence. Out of the trees surged many snake-like creatures with the heads of beetles and arms like scythes. William drew out his sword, warded off a scythe, and lowered his blade to cleave the skull. Tanith cut two in half while stepping past their attacks. Arraxia''s tail slashed several to ribbons in moments.


    William had several gobs of acid spew toward him. Stepping aside, he caught the spatters on his shield and cleaved a neck. The blade sank deep and cut full through. Another he ran through as it lunged, nearly losing his footing. More came, and soon the ground was riddled with the monsters'' corpses. At last, no more were there.


    William sighed and kneeled to wipe the blood from his sword on the grass. "Not again. What are raishans doing here?"


    "Dying from the looks of things," said Arraxia. "The barrier between the worlds must weaken if these things can wander in."


    "How could it break so quickly?" asked William.


    "A lack of support from the gods goes a long way," said Arraxia.


    Suddenly they heard a roar and a sound like thunder. They made for it at once. They came through a clearing and found many raishans ripped to shreds by claws and teeth. Others had been burned to ashes. Yet there was no sign of what did this. A lion ripped these things to shreds, and some of these things were burned. They could be heard snarling some ways off and made for it.


    Suddenly Massacre leaped out of the trees and bowled over Arraxia. Chimera and demoness tumbled over in a tangle of limbs as they clawed at each other.


    "Unhand me, cretin!" snarled Arraxia.


    "Massacre, get off her," said William. "We still need her."


    At that moment, Felix emerged from the trees. His sword was in his hand and bloodied, but the box containing the Axe of Fortenex was nowhere to be seen. "Why?"


    "No reason," said Tanith. "Go ahead and eat her Massacre."


    "She led us to Felix," said William.


    "And to the raishans," noted Tanith.


    "If she had, she wouldn''t have helped us fight them," said William.


    "Well, if the dark lord himself hasn''t taken the field," muttered Felix, eyeing his armor. "Where the hell have you been?"


    "Traveling," said William, noticing that Felix was covered in dirt. His clothes were in rags, and he had several cuts on his hands. "You look terrible, Felix."


    "I''ve been hiding in the woods and sleeping in ditches," said Felix. "I''ve only had one set of clothes; my only company has been a chimera." He halted for a moment. "The Axe of Fortenex is gone."


    "Why?" asked William. "What happened?"


    "The damn thing was radiating unholy energy constantly. Every five minutes, we''d be chased down by some new demon," said Felix. "I kept it out of their hands as long as I could. But there came the point: either get rid of it and escape, or die and have it fall into enemy hands."


    "What point?!" asked William. "Felix, do you know what could happen if someone gets their hands on that Axe!?"


    "Yes, but I thought that if I was still alive, I could tell someone who had it," said Felix.


    William calmed himself. Felix was right, as he usually was about these things. "Who was it, then?"


    Felix looked around, expecting to see eyes staring at him from the trees. "The Iron King."


    "What did he look like?" asked William.


    "He wore armor similar to yours, actually," said Felix. "He was a giant, and I ended up dodging him for days. But no matter how far he chased me, he never tired, and his minions always got closer. Eventually, we were cornered, and Massacre was taken hostage.


    "So I gave it up. I knew I''d stand no chance even if I let Massacre die without her. He let Massacre live, laughed, and left."


    Massacre was abruptly thrown back with a roar to land against a tree. Arraxia stood and made her way forward. William caught her by the shoulder before the fight could continue. "We don''t have time for this. We have to get it back," said William. "Who knows what the Iron King intends to do with the Axe?"


    "Why do you think he wants it in the first place," said Tanith. "I thought it could only be wielded by the chosen of Fortenex."


    "So it can never be used against him, I expect," guessed Arraxia. "He delights in taking things which he''ll never have a chance to use. He''s one of those dog-in-the-manger types.


    "Alright, let me think," said William. "Arraxia, what was your original plan for getting into the Iron Kingdom?"


    "Well, I had originally hoped to use the Axe to negotiate for a meeting with the Iron King," said Arraxia. "I''d want to present it to him in person. Then when I was in front of him, I''d cut off his head."


    "Yes, but that doesn''t answer my question," said William.


    "Oh right, I suppose you do exist in this hypothetical," mused Arraxia. "I was planning to bring you into the palace by a secret passage I found years ago."


    "This passage, where is it?" asked Tanith.


    "I could lead you to it," said Arraxia. "Though I can''t remember what the area is called."


    "Is it guarded?" asked William.


    "Oh, gracious, no. Not by mortals anyway," said Arraxia. "If anyone knew to guard it, they would have to be killed for security reasons. But there are defenses of another sort. It works just as well on demons as humans, and I was hoping to use the Axe of Fortenex to break the spell."


    "Well, we''ll have to change it," said William. "Take us to the passage. At once."


    "As you wish," said Arraxia. "I shall indulge you. Follow me."


    At last, things were picking up.

 Chapter Twenty-five: The Rising

    Kiyora went to sleep that night and tried to go to Seathorius.


    Emphasis on tried. As soon as she made it, she felt a grip like iron on her mind and was yanked backward. Suddenly she was standing in front of a pillar at the center of a town and clutching her head. Agony surged through her mind.


    "What is this?" she gasped.


    "You were attempting to return to Seathorius without leave, weren''t you?" asked Raka. The dwarven warrior was holding an axe in one hand.


    "It''s my country. I''ll go back to it if I like," snapped Kiyora.


    "You haven''t earned the right to do what you like," said Raka.


    The pain intensified, and Kiyora collapsed to the ground with a scream. Raka stood over her, a hand on her sword. Her eyes were empty. "We serve the Iron Kingdom. It is ruled by those with a far greater understanding than us. We live and die at their command. Continue to defy them, and it will be worse for you."


    The pain disappeared. Kiyora looked up. "Greater understanding?" she asked.


    "It is their lot to rule and direct," said Raka, "Just as it is a lot of my brother and myself to act as their sword arm. Those who oppose them must be rooted out for the greater good."


    "What is good?" asked Kiyora. "Because from how you people act, I''m guessing it isn''t the dignity and well-being of sentient beings."


    "We seek the only logical definition of good," said Raka. "The greatest amount of happiness for the greatest amount of people."


    Kiyora looked around at the villagers in this place. They were staying indoors. They eyed the soldiers of the Iron Kingdom with mistrustful eyes. The soldiers looked to be repairing a wall that had broken. Kiyora wondered if it was meant to keep people in or out.


    "...Great job," Was what she said.


    "Security must come before any society may be created," said Raka.


    "Oh, is that why you go around killing everyone who disagrees with you?" asked Kiyora.


    "Dissent cannot be tolerated in times of crisis," said Raka. She sounded more and more like one reciting something drilled into them from birth. "The Iron Kingdom has been at war for centuries. As the Einheroth raid us, rebels attempt to restore the gods of old. Viokins seek to raid our shores. We are strained to the breaking point and must take necessary actions."


    "You want to know how to fix all these problems really, really, easily?" asked Kiyora.


    Raka raised an eyebrow in amusement and suddenly was back to normal. "You would claim to know the solution to matters the Iron Council has sought for centuries?"


    "Yeah," said Kiyora. "Want to hear it?"


    "Speak," said Raka.


    "Tear down the pillars," said Kiyora. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Raka stared. "How would that solve anything?"


    "It would," said Kiyora. "Because if you tear down the pillars, you could then send messages to Calisha and Harlenor. Says that you want to take up the worship of the greatest god. Instantly everyone would have a vested interest in ensuring you didn''t fall.


    "You could negotiate for all kinds of benefits."


    "You would have us betray everything we stand for worldly gains?" asked Raka.


    "What exactly do you stand for?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Iron Kingdom was founded to throw off the tyranny of the gods!" said Raka, brushing her hair away.


    "Tyranny?" asked Kiyora. "How are they tyrants exactly?"


    "They send diseases to plague us. Then they claim benevolence when their healing powers cure some victims," said Raka. "They fight amongst each other constantly. They bring ruin and death for the sake of petty vendettas. They rape mortal women and claim their rights as superior beings.


    "But they aren''t superior! Take away your powers, and what are you, Kiyora Yagos?"


    Kiyora blinked. She''d had some first-hand experience on the subject. "...That''s a good question. But I don''t see how the Iron Council is any better.


    "And from a strictly pragmatic perspective, you should allow the gods to give you advice. If they think they can control you, they are far less likely to try and wipe you off the map. And anyway, what about the afterlife? Who''s going to take your souls? The demons?"


    "Of course not," said Raka. "The souls of those who die in the Iron Kingdom are drawn into the pillars. There their spirits become one with the magic of the Void Stone. They aid the Iron King in defending against the tyranny of the gods."


    "...That has got to be the worst afterlife I''ve ever heard of," said Kiyora. "You die and get used as a battery so your sociopath of a leader can throw a temper tantrum against the heavens? And I thought Alchara''s eternal family sounded like a raw deal."


    "Silence!" said Raka. "The will of the Iron King is not to be questioned!"


    "Then what are you doing here?" asked Kiyora.


    "What?" said Raka.


    "You decided to intervene and protect this village. The Iron Council decided to let it burn to the ground," said Kiyora. "Why?"


    Raka remained silent for a long moment. "If we could stop the advance of the demons here, they would not go on to plague other villages.".


    "In other words, you thought you knew better than them," said Kiyora.


    "The Iron Council is set in its ways," said Raka. "They do not understand the military necessity."


    "Well, then it looks like they aren''t more perfect than gods," noted Kiyora.


    "They aren''t. We don''t treat them as such," said Raka.


    "You just obey them without question and do everything they say," said Kiyora. "Sounds like a god to me."


    "You don''t understand this Kingdom!" snarled Raka.


    "And I don''t think I want to," said Kiyora.


    At that moment, there was a cry. A soldier rushed up to Raka, looking flustered. "Lady Raka, Lord Byran approaches! His armies are with him."


    "What?" said Raka.


    Raka rushed to the walls. Kiyora went with her and saw the armies of the Iron Kingdom making their way to the village. Their gray armor was battered, and they carried many wounded with them.


    "Open the gates!" cried Raka. "Get medical supplies quickly!"


    The gates were thrown open, and Byran''s army entered. Byran himself had his arm in a sling. His helmet had been lost at some point, and his axe was notched. Raka ran up to him and embraced him.


    "Raka, what are you doing here?" asked Byran.


    "I''ve been fortifying this town to repel a possible invasion," said Raka.


    Byran looked over, his men streaming in. "Well, it is good that you did. The Fort of Steel has fallen. We narrowly escaped with our lives. Man, the walls and prepare to defend against the Einheroth."


    "Where are they? How many?" asked Raka.


    "More than have ever emerged before now," said Byran. "Can''t you hear them?"


    Kiyora suddenly realized she could. There was a harsh and joyful song in the air, spoken by voices like cold northern winds. It rang throughout the trees and made her shudder. Then she heard the tramp of many feet. Even as Byran and Raka rallied their forces along the wall, out of the trees came the Einheroth.


    Kiyora had heard people talk about them. But she''d never seen one. Now she wished she hadn''t. They were living suits of armor, marching forward in lines. They held axes and spears, and there was a pale flame in place of flesh. The song continued.


    Although she could not make out the words, she knew the meaning. It was ingrained in the soul. It spoke of blood and death and decaying corpses.


    And from behind the Einheroth poured legions of little green things wearing veils. They held spears and swords and rushed at the walls chattering. Arrows were launched, and many of the creatures died. Some turned and tried to flee back. But these were hewn down in moments by the Einheroth who came behind.


    Like a tidal wave, the green creatures rushed toward the wall. They didn''t care about their casualties, though the arrows fell among them like rain. Soon they were scaling up the walls. Men and dwarves hacked them down as the Einheroth drew ever closer. For a moment, it seemed as though the defense would be driven in.


    But Raka joined the fray. She moved across the wall like the wind, and wherever she ran, the creatures died in sprays of blood. Byran''s men came to reinforce them while the soldier stood and reached the top at a walk.


    The Einheroth did not fear arrows as they marched toward the gate with a huge ram. They raised a wall of shields to ward off the barrage. Stones were thrown down on them, and several fell. But the rest brought their ram against the gates and smote it. The gates cracked. It would only take another strike.


    Kiyora raised a hand and channeled her will into the gates. There was another impact, and they held firm. But Kiyora felt the blow on her hand and stepped back. Then another force arose, terrible and cold, and she felt a vicelike grip hold her. She struggled with it as the gate was struck. It was all so could do to keep from being crushed.


    The strain of the contest was too great. The gates broke, and the Einheroth streamed in.


    They found Byran waiting. With two strokes of his axe, two fell. Others came forward to replace them, and for a moment, he was hard-pressed. Then came Raka and many other soldiers. The stroke of an Einheroth cut one down. Another drove his spear through the creatures. But he was slashed down. Byran and Raka stood back to back, axes hewing about them. Then they were hidden from view by the press of bodies.


    Kiyora looked up at the trees and felt like she could see everything. She saw vast hosts had spilled forth from the mountains. Their harsh song could be heard throughout all the valleys and mountains. What was faced here was only the vanguard of a much greater army.


    What was Kiyora supposed to be doing here? Oh right, summoning the trees. She felt a bit detached, but she might as well follow through. She didn''t like the Iron Kingdom, but it would be bad if innocent people got killed. Reaching out with her mind, she sensed the trees.


    "Would you mind getting rid of all these Einheroth?" she asked.


    She had a pointed and harsh reply. There was also a question. Did she truly care?


    "No, I''m not particularly motivated to help them, but I feel I should," admitted Kiyora. "What about you?"


    The trees felt no obligation to help these people. They had helped enough already, and the pillars had not yet been broken. And really, why should they? Kiyora didn''t see any reason they should like the Iron Kingdom or anyone in it. They''d been treated very poorly.


    "Oh, you mean breaking the pillars," mused Kiyora. "Well, it could take some time, and I can''t promise anything. But if you were to rescue these people, you might be able to destroy some of the pillars yourselves. They''ll likely all be so busy fighting each other that they can''t stop you."


    The trees were incredulous. Kiyora saw that long ago; they had attempted to tear down the pillars. But they had found that the spirits of the dead had resisted them. The pillars had proved too strong.


    "Okay, maybe," said Kiyora, "but I''m helping you right now. I''m the Dreaming Goddess. I''ll put my own power into you, and you will become strong enough to destroy them." What was she thinking? She didn''t have the power to animate whole forests.


    Except she did.


    Some of her realized that she had always had this power bubbling beneath the surface. She just hadn''t realized it until now. Or had it been kept back from her? She could feel her will going out across the land, and the trees answered the call.


    The groaning of the woods was everywhere. Einheroth were grabbed and torn apart by roots and branches. Goblins ran back to their holes in terror. And the trees grasped the pillars with their roots.


    A vicious will resisted them. It clung to the pillars, and their efforts were in vain. They could not unplant them. Then Kiyora put forth her will to their aid. The pillars resisted for a moment; then, they were broken and torn down.


    The trees had smashed through what was left of the gates and scattered the defenders. Upon their roots, they climbed to the top of the village and reached out to take hold of the pillar. For a moment, the pillar held against them.


    Raka rushed up the hill and saw Kiyora. "What have you done?!"


    "Made a few suggestions," said Kiyora.


    "Men, cut these trees down and burn them!" cried Byan. "We''ll avenge-"


    A root wrapped around his neck from behind.


    "Are you sure about this?" asked Kiyora. "You''re men don''t look ready to pick a fight with trees."


    "How are you doing this?" asked Raka. "No one can break free of the Will of Iron."


    "Like I said, I''m a goddess," said Kiyora. "You didn''t think you could control me that easily? I''ve only played along this long because I felt like helping the people here. No offense, but not telling me to kill my friends didn''t do anything to make me want to work for you people."


    "This treachery will not go unpunished," said Raka.


    "Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, hypocritical self-righteousness," said Kiyora. "You have bigger problems than me. Now, if you''ll excuse me, I will go find my friends." And she disappeared in a flash.


    It was more satisfying than ever before to walk among the trees. As she did, she heard them whispering among each other. Kiyora asked them for William''s location and got it quickly. Then she heard several questions.


    "No," said Kiyora, "you can''t wipe out the humans and dwarves of this place. It isn''t their fault the Iron Kingdom oppresses everyone. They''re victims as well."


    There were disgruntled mutterings among many of the trees. Too many. Kiyora felt that these forests would have gladly washed over the land if she had given the word. They would have gladly torn apart everything in the Iron Kingdom, perhaps beyond that.


    "Look, you''re angry," said Kiyora. "I get that, and you have the right to be angry. But you have to focus on the people responsible. Keep destroying the pillars and getting rid of the Einheroth." She winced. Images assailed her of felled trees and burned woods. "We''ll talk about this once it''s over."


    A chill went through Kiyora as she felt another wail. The Einheroth had begun to fight back. No longer taken off guard, the undead creatures began to hack at trees with their axes. It took dozens of them to kill a single tree, but a tree took hundreds of years to grow. Already the forests moving all around her were beginning to fall.


    And yet more Einheroth poured forth from the mountains. Yet, with every pillar that fell, energy coursed through the trees. They seemed to become more and more vicious. They moved faster and faster, and the earth churned beneath their onslaught.


    But soon, the green things came back with many torches. They hurled them and slashed at the trees with them. Most were killed, but several trees were set alight. Kiyora felt them writhing in agony as the flames spread. The fire spread throughout the forests around the Einheroth.


    The joke was on them.


    Trees could survive fire. Their bark insulated them against it; even if all the leaves were burned away, they could return. It was very painful and unpleasant for them, but unless the fire was very hot indeed, it would not kill them. The same could not be said for squishy green things. The rose smoke choked them, and many were consumed by the fires they had started.


    Once again, they fled shrieking back to their holes, but this time few made it. Fires lit up on the horizon, and the trees went still. Kiyora sighed. "Thank you," she said. "I''m sorry about what the goblins did to you, but you''ve just saved a lot of people."


    The trees gave her an irritated reply. She had the feeling they were angry with her.


    "Look, I''m sorry," said Kiyora. "But you could have said no and refused to attack the Einheroth. It isn''t like I forced you to. And the pillars are destroyed this way."


    The tree reluctantly agreed.


    Still, Kiyora noticed something. She had less regard for life than she once had. Something had changed in her, or perhaps her spirit''s proximity to Arraxia. She''d have to fix this later.


    Then she became aware of Laevian. The goddess was watching the destruction with satisfaction. Kiyora eyed her suspiciously, skin now a grayish hue and dress showing a lot of cleavage. "Any reason why you couldn''t have done this years ago?"


    "I choose not to," said Laevian. "With no healing magic, the Iron Kingdom was a perfect breeding ground for disease. I''ve had great fun with it, though Elranor still found ways to ruin things. He made me grow plants meant to heal people."


    "You mean, you let this happen because you wanted to create new diseases?" asked Kiyora.


    "I hate mortals," said Laevian. "I''ve never understood what Elranor sees in them. Besides, the Iron Kingdom kept the minotaurs from raiding Calisha and Harlenor. They are useless to me now that they are on the verge of falling."


    Kiyora looked at her in disgust. "Okay, I know that William claims otherwise, but you are evil.


    "Evil is a word with no meaning in the wild," said Laevian. "And I love the wild more than anything else. And soon, the wild will cover all of this continent." Something in her voice put Kiyora on guard.


    "What do you mean?" she asked.


    "The Iron King has the Axe of Fortenex," said Laevian, a smile creeping onto her face. "And I know what he wants to do with it. There isn''t be any mortal breathing on this continent once he''s done."


    "Then I''m going to stop him," said Kiyora.


    This only seemed to amuse Laevian further. "Very well. Enjoy your fleeting existence as a mortal." And she was gone like leaves in the wind.

 Chapter Twenty-six: The Doors of Iron

    As they approached the sea, the trees began to move.


    They saw the pillars being grasped and torn to shreds by the roots of the trees. One moment you would see a pillar standing tall and strong, and then you would look away. When you looked up, there would be a cracking noise, and the pillar was broken under the roots. All around them, they heard groaning and the grumbling of ancient stone. Then just as suddenly, everything went silent. It was eerie.


    And it was a relief.


    But William felt his powers returning to him. For the first time, the sun above seemed to give real light. The colors and meaning of the world had returned. His spirit lifted. However, Arraxia''s tail flicked in irritation.


    "How I wish those pillars were still up," said Arraxia. "I had forgotten how much I hated the sun."


    "Why would you hate the sun?" asked William.


    "Why not?" That was all Arraxia would say. Then she walked faster.


    William and Felix began to trade stories with each other. Felix had been dodging the Iron Kingdom''s soldiers this entire time. He and Massacre did it so well that the Iron King came to look for him. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    This made William impressed beyond words. He''d always known Felix was good; he never knew he was this good. Tanith obviously thought it very impressive too.


    "He wasn''t like the others," said Felix. "He zoomed right in on me. No matter how far we ran, he was always behind. Wherever we hid, he found us. Eventually, I ambushed him. I had Massacre cause a distraction and come at him breathing fire and roaring.


    "While she was doing that, I tried to get him in the back. But he knocked me flat without even glancing at me. If he wanted us dead, he could have killed us easily."


    "So why did he let you live?" asked William.


    "I think I amused him," said Felix. "He seemed to regard chasing us as entertaining. He was actually quite complimentary. Very polite."


    They suddenly came from the trees to a bare hill where no grass grew. The trees seemed to recoil away from the mountain, and the ground was blackened. Arraxia led them around the hill and to a set of double doors built into the side of a rock. Two statues were on either side of it, radiating an aura of coldness, which was almost painful. They were carved images of soldiers clutching great swords in their hands. The land around the door was somehow shrunken and weak. Trees seemed to lean away from it. The grass did not grow by the door.


    "Here we are," said Arraxia.


    "I was expecting it to be hidden," admitted William.


    "It doesn''t need to be hidden," said Arraxia.


    "Of course, it doesn''t," said Tanith before setting a hand on the door. She let out a cry and stepped backward her hand red.


    Arraxia laughed. "I told you. The door is warded by the will of the Iron King. And until now, all my efforts to get inside have been in vain."


    "Then how do you know it leads to the palace?" asked Tanith.


    "I stole the floor plans," said Arraxia. "It was a very complicated affair and not very interesting. That was years ago when the place was stronger, and there would have been guards here.


    "Now, William, would you kindly wield your harp, and I will assist. With the power-" She eyed William, and her eyes fixed on his harp. "Where is the Goldenwood Harp?"


    "I gave it back to Alchara," said William.


    "You..." Arraxia stammered, "You gave it back?! Why?!"


    "To save Kiyora from an unwanted marriage," said William. "Though truth be told, I wanted to stop using it in the first place. I felt that it was keeping me from truly mastering my power."


    "Well, the second one, I might understand, but the first?!" said Arraxia. "What... I mean... giving up power?! You''re an idiot!"


    "What do you want me to do?" asked William.


    "I wanted you to try and break the seal," said Arraxia.


    "What were you planning to do if the trees hadn''t gone berserk and destroyed all the pillars?" asked Felix. "William didn''t have his powers until that happened."


    "I..." Arraxia paused, "well, obviously, the trees going berserk was my doing. Clearly, I would not have made so obvious an oversight. Whatever the case, without the Goldenwood Harp, it will be far more difficult. I''ll have to invest some of my power into it."


    "Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say," said William.


    He drew out his harp and began to play, sending forth his will against the doors. Instantly he was repulsed, and he felt the spells reaching forward to grip him. He couldn''t breathe. Playing faster, he worked to loosen the grip and drew a few short breaths. Soon the grip of the spell had been thrown off.


    The power of Elranor clashed with the power of the Iron Kingdom. They contested one another, and William struggled to keep playing. The statues seemed to grow taller than the mountains and leer down at him. The door almost seemed to snarl in hatred as he pressed back toward the gate. He assailed it but could not reach it.


    "This power..." gasped William, "I... I''m not sure I can break the spell."


    "Do shut up and play," said Arraxia.


    William sent his will against him again. Once again, he was thrown back. A third time he assaulted it and pressed his full power against it. The door shuddered beneath his attack. Yet it still held firm. William pushed and pushed, gritting his teeth at the pain.


    Then Kiyora appeared. "Open," she said.


    New power surged against the door. It cracked. Then it shattered and fell inwards. There was a feral sneering sound, and then the door''s power was broken. William stood up and looked at Kiyora.


    "Kiyora?" he asked.


    "Hey," said Kiyora, raising a hand, "sorry, I''m late."


    "Right, let''s go," said William as he stood. "Come on, Felix, we''ll head for the shore."


    "What?" said Arraxia.


    "What?" said Kiyora.


    "I only came here to free Kiyora," said William with a shrug. "I have no intention of walking into combat with the Iron King. Not now that I''ve already achieved what I came here to do."


    "You can''t do that!" said Arraxia.


    "On the contrary, I can, I will, and that is what I intend to do," said William. "I''m sure Raynald and Rusara can handle the Iron King."


    "Felix, could you say something to him?" asked Kiyora.


    "Why would I say something?" asked Felix.


    "...Can we afford to leave the Axe of Fortenex in the Iron King''s hands?" asked Tanith.


    "He might just want it as a trophy," said William. "In any case, he defeated Massacre. I''m not going to face someone that powerful. Not for a few more years, at least. And anyway, even if we get the Axe of Fortenex, Arraxia will steal it, gloat, and runoff. And I know she''d use it."


    "Bah," said Massacre in agreement.


    "Come on!" said Tanith. "We''ve come all this way! Let''s at least have a look at him!"


    "Yes, and once we have had a look at him, we''ll have to fight him," said William.


    "I''m in complete agreement," said Felix. "Let''s go."


    "But, don''t you want to overthrow him for his tyranny?" asked Arraxia.


    "Sure, but only if there is someone to replace him," said William. "Killing him right now would probably just send the Kingdom into anarchy. Anarchy is never good,"


    "Oh, come on, William!" said Tanith. "I haven''t had a chance to kill anything for days."


    "Well, we may be attacked by pirates on our way home," said William. "Or waylaid by brigands or something to that effect."


    "We had a deal!" said Arraxia in an almost pleading voice.


    "We had an alliance. You wanted to go after the Iron King," said William. "I wanted to rescue Kiyora. Our interests aligned. The situation has changed completely since then. Really we should go back home and regroup. Best to wait on vengeance and come back after everything has cooled down."


    "We can''t wait," said Kiyora.


    William stopped and looked at her. "What do you mean?"


    "We can''t wait," said Kiyora. "I met Laevian earlier. She told me that the Iron King had something planned. Something which will completely annihilate all life on the continent."


    "Are you sure?" asked William, heart sinking.


    "Yes," said Kiyora. "She seemed quite happy about it."


    William closed his eyes and sighed. "...Damn, let''s go."


    William summoned a light, and they turned and ventured into the passage. Within was a smooth stone passage. There were no tiles on the floor, and the wall was perfectly smooth. Rather it seemed as if someone or something had burrowed their way into the stone. The air here was still, as though dead.


    William didn''t like it any better than he had the outside. He spoke to Kiyora about what she had been doing to distract himself. Kiyora explained things in her usual manner, seeming unconcerned as always.


    "So you were the one who destroyed all the pillars." mused William.


    "Yeah," said Kiyora. "Once I got the trees started, they couldn''t be stopped. They''ve been going around wrecking pillars left and right. There may be a few left, but what can you do?"


    "Aren''t you afraid the Withering King will strike back?" asked Tanith.


    "Not really," admitted Kiyora. "What is he going to do, deforest the whole nation?"


    "Arraxia, where does this tunnel come out exactly?" asked Felix.


    "In the palace," said Arraxia. "Now quiet. Someone might be waiting for us on the other end, and I don''t want them to hear you talking."


    Soon they entered a wide-open chamber filled with many sarcophagi lying still in great rows. There were no rotting bodies here, but somehow this was nearly as bad as the other areas. It put William on edge to be in this tomb, and he felt as if something might rise up and attack him at any moment.


    "Can we expect any guardians?" he asked.


    "No," said Arraxia. "If by guardians you mean restless spirits of the dead. These are catacombs, not dormitories. Everything here is long dead."


    They walked in that eerie place for some time. William needed to figure out how long it was. Then they passed beyond the catacombs and into another place. Here they saw statues. Thousands upon thousands of pale white statues of soldiers. They held spears, and their eyes were all closed.


    Yet William felt a presence in the room. It was living, and he knew they should go. "Run," he said.


    "What?" said Tanith.


    "Run for the exit!" hissed William.


    Arraxia sprang forward, and they ran after her. Yet the statues stretched around them as far as they could see in the darkness. And they began to move. Soon the figures were coming toward them from both sides.


    A row of them closed the way ahead of them. The entrance could be seen just beyond. Spears were lowered toward them. "Who dares enter the domain of the Iron King without leave!" said a long, hollow voice. "You and your kind shall-"


    "Oh, do shut up," Arraxia lashed out with her tail. The blade cut straight through the foremost statues. At once, the figures began to close in around them. Arraxia reached a door and kicked it from its hinges.


    In she went, and William followed after her. Yet he couldn''t see her anywhere as the others rushed in. Then she emerged from the ceiling and threw down a ladder from above. "Come on quickly! This way!"


    "You first, Kiyora," said William. "Go."


    Kiyora scaled up as William stood by the door. The statues crowd the door, but Tanith lashed out with a sword and broke the face of the leader. Another replaced it and fell as well. Tanith''s blades moved in a whirlwind as William sent Felix up next. In moments, six of the statues had been cut down. They made no effort to defend themselves. They just pressed on without stopping, jabbing with spears.


    It was the blades of the Nakmar. These statues would be impossible to cut with normal weapons. But Tanith''s swords could cleave them. Certainly, Tanith looked to be enjoying herself as she hacked them down. But she couldn''t hold them off indefinitely.


    "Tanith come on!" said William. "I''ll hold them!"


    Tanith cleaved down three more before backing away, only to halt and cut down two more with a smile. Spinning her blades, she cut two spears and cleaved two skulls. Then she spun the blades round to sheath her swords. Turning in one smooth movement, she scaled up the ladder. The statues tried to pursue them, but they tripped over the bodies of their fallen. William went after Tanith as well. Soon she was up through the gap. William was nearly after her when he felt something grip his foot.


    Looking down, he saw the statues filling the room. Unslinging his shield, he bashed away their spears but found more hands coming down to grip him. He''d fall!


    "William!" cried Kiyora.


    Then Arraxia''s tail lashed out around him and hauled him through. He was flung against the side of a wall and tried to stand. He saw Arraxia shutting the hatch. Then gripping a great box, she drew it up and slammed it down.


    William stood, healing his bruises. "That..." he said, "was far too close."


    The room was utterly silent. Great boxes were piled high around them. For a moment, William looked around in silence. Utter silence. A silence deeper than anything he''d ever felt, but there was no purity to it. If this was the palace, shouldn''t there have been sound?


    "Where are we?" asked Tanith. Her voice seemed to echo.


    "In a storehouse," said Arraxia. "One in the outer palace, as I said. Now come, let''s get going."


    "What makes you think we can even reach the inner palace?" asked William.


    "Simple enough," said Arraxia, "the palace is empty at the best times. The Iron King needs no guards and does not care much for others'' company. A long time ago, the palace was filled with all kinds of people.


    "That was during my tutelage under Melchious alongside Rubia and Rioletta. We sometimes come here. We performed supernatural services for the Iron King when they were needed.


    "But those days are long past. He prefers solitude now and comes and goes in secret. And only a few hundred servants live here with guards. And the palace could hold thousands."


    "Well, this is poor security," said William. He walked to the door and opened it. "Come, let''s go." He opened the door and saw a dozen corpses freshly made.

 Chapter Twenty-seven: The Iron King

    They were guards and had been cut with many wounds by their own weapons. On their faces were wicked smiles. William walked among them. He wondered what had happened as the scent of blood assailed his nostrils. He felt a presence in the air, but it slipped away, laughing before he could grasp it. At his feet were large puddles of blood and many hewn limbs.


    The bleak stone walls reeked of death and were utterly forlorn and silent. William peered around as Felix kneeled by several fallen man. What had happened in this place? Who had done this?


    "These men killed each other," said Felix. "Look there." He motioned, and William followed the gaze. There was a man who clutched a spear that had been driven into the heart of his fellow. He''d taken a dagger to the neck.


    "Not all of them," said Tanith, largely unaffected. This realm had destabilized her. "This one killed himself." Willliam looked at her and saw a back who had fallen on his sword. There was no horror or grief on his face; he was smiling.


    "A fight?" asked Kiyora. "Was there a coup?"


    "No," said William, feeling a chill. "This was not any civil war. These men were made to kill each other by dark magic."


    "Well, obviously," said Arraxia. "The Iron King is practicing his powers on his people. Either that or he cannot fully control them."


    "What powers?" asked William.


    "One of the abilities of the Axe of Fortenex is to send people into killing frenzies," said Arraxia. "It seems to have done wonders for Tanith lately."


    "Oh, she''s always like that," said William.


    "Pretty much," said Tanith. "Though I am enjoying myself on this adventure." Bitter laughter ensured, and William wondered if he''d gone mad.


    Who wouldn''t?


    "The strong-willed may resist, but in the hands of one such as myself, it would be unstoppable," said Arraxia. "Come, let''s keep moving. He''ll probably expand his gaze to other realms soon."


    They walked through many halls with weapons near at hand. The palace could not have been more different. There were colorful and ornate paintings and tapestries on every wall. There were vast decorations on the walls. There were pictures of angels of light standing high over cowering mortals. They might have been very beautiful to look at. But corpses could be found here or there, hewn down by guards who killed themselves in the aftermath. There were young girls and old men. There were boys not much older than William. Something was in the air, that presence again. They were laughing.


    "There is something evil in the air," said William. "This sensation, I''ve felt it before."


    "It is like with Laughing Wraith," said Kiyora. "Except different. It has changed."


    "We are all the Dark Dreamer," said William.


    "What?" said Kiyora.


    "Something a demon told me," said William. "The Vulture of Melchious, he was called. He said that Melchious had many faces."


    "What is Melchious doing here?" asked Kiyora.


    "I don''t know," admitted William.


    Passing through gilded halls, they, at last. They came before a set of double doors inlaid with images of mutilation and horror. A vast ogre with a demonic gaze, half-buried in the ground, was inlaid at the bottom of the door. From its back came tendrils lined with many dead men, mutilated and bloodied. Further up the tendrils stood a figure upon a throne, playing a harp and above, a black image of the heavens.


    They were a bright reflection of those they had seen before. Instead of soldiers, there were angels with flaming swords. From within, they could hear the playing of a harp.


    It was beautiful music, more beautiful than anything William had yet to hear in his life. It made him feel like he was lying upon the clouds and fading away. Fading into a higher being than himself. He felt his eyes drooping. He needed to sleep. Just shut his eyes for a time, and then-


    He shook his head and set a hand to his sword. No, he would not fall into such a spell.


    Arraxia strode forward, set her hands against the door, and threw them aside. There was a crash as the doors hit the walls. The song washed over them all the louder momentarily, but William drew his music and played back. For a time, the music contested, notes clashing against one another. It grated on his mind, and he struggled to focus. A pale light washed over them, sending their minds to sleep as they struggled to continue.


    William played all the harder, though he could hardly remember. He felt as though he were a walking shadow behind Arraxia. On and on, the music played. William smiled in joy at the contest to meet one with the same skill. And his enemy played harder and better until. At the very moment William thought to be overwhelmed, the song ended.


    So they entered.


    Within was a great hall of carved stone. Eight huge pillars held up a high ceiling. They found the Iron King at the far end upon a high throne. He was no giant, as had been described. He was unarmored and wore bright white garments, and over his head was a hooded cloak. In his hands was a harp, which he still played with masterful skill. Propped up against his throne was the Axe of Fortenex.


    As they approached, he stood and threw back his hood. Beneath it, William saw the fairest features he had ever beheld. Such was the wondrous power and nobility within them that he stepped back and wondered if he was in a dream. No other being he had ever seen could compare. All that he had seen around him now seemed maimed and misshapen in comparison.


    His hair was long and golden but brighter than William thought possible. This was no mere flaxen but true gold. Gold of a hue and richness that no precious metal taken from the earth could ever compare to.


    "Ah," laughed the Iron King in a voice filled with youthful exuberance, "so at last, my guests have arrived, have they? I apologize for the corpses. I had hoped to have this place cleaned up by the time you arrived. But all plans go astray, and Felix has proven himself a master at leading things from their right path.


    "Welcome."


    "What have you done?" asked Kiyora, voice bemused.


    "Driven my subjects to madness as a test of my power, of course," said the Iron King. "And soon, I shall cause a far greater bloodletting. The rivers will run red with those who have served me loyally."


    Somehow, William found it impossible to get angry. He saw that it was not just him. The others were in a daze of sorts. Arraxia herself looked confused and doubtful. Yet he pieced things together. What other power would act with such meaningless cruelty save one? "Melchious?" he asked. "You are the Iron King?"


    Melchious laughed, and the sound rang throughout the halls. He snatched up the Axe of Fortenex, threw it into the air, and caught it by the haft as it came down. Spinning it, he walked down the stairs. "Of course. It is a rather long story. I''d be happy to relate it."


    "How?" asked William, unable to be angry. "Why? Why would you create a kingdom only to destroy it?"


    "For many reasons, of course," said Melchious. "But chiefest among them was to restock my supply of raishans. I freed many prisoners from bondage. I took on the guise of a hero, earned their loyalty, and led them to shun the gods and shut them out. Every person that died here in the Iron Kingdom had their soul sent into the pillars and the Void Stone.


    "Their souls, in turn, became the fuel for more raishans.


    "In other guises, I inspired the satyrs to newfound heights of bloodlust. I went among the minotaurs, convincing them to raid and pillage. Thus, those who might have opposed the Iron King dared not for fear of their enemies.


    "We''ve had some very real success, record years, in fact. But we didn''t reach our full potential. Unfortunately, the Iron Kingdom has recently become unreliable as a source of souls. Birth rates dropped, and the quality of the souls decreased. So, I''ve decided to exterminate every man, woman, and child in this entire kingdom. Once the land is clear, I will give it to some of my other worshippers."


    "This is disgraceful!" roared Arraxia. "You had an entire Kingdom loyal to you. Yet, instead of using them to conquer and subjugate other realms, you just plan to destroy them! And for what?! So you could create some more disposable monsters to cover your earlier failures? This is why I had you overthrown!"


    "Arraxia," said Melchious as he took hold of her throat and squeezed. "Talented though you are, I fear you have never really understood the meaning of being a demon. It is not about power or the desire to dominate. It is about destruction. All that we do, all that we seek to achieve is done to spread misery and suffering across the worlds."


    Arraxia choked, and William could do nothing. Why should he do anything? She had made no secret of her allegiance to herself. It was better to let her die where she stood.


    No, no, he must act.


    "We demons are denied common pleasures," said Melchious. "The finest of foods are but ash on our tongues. We seek our pleasures in other ways. Some have made great strides in our goals through the domination of others. Yet it is not the domination of minds that truly gives us pleasure but their torment. We do not seek power but the opportunity to misuse it.


    "The only purpose for torture is torture itself.


    "The only meaning behind the atrocities we commit is for the sake of those atrocities.


    "There is no hope of victory for us.


    "No great plan that shall lead to our ascension beyond the pitiful mortals, we scoff.


    "No reward for those with the vision to shed common morality.


    "There is no power we gain that good man cannot gain for less.


    "We perform the unforgivable for its own sake. There is no meaning. Only blood. Blood fo Zigildrazia."


    Then, Arraxia seized his hand and dragged it from her throat. "Coward! That is the philosophy of the slave! I have set myself above the heavens and determined all that is!


    "If I am not the supreme being, then I shall make it so!"


    And she flew into the air, and her eyes blazed with flame as her wings were outstretched.


    "You speak ever above your station," said Melchious, leaping back with a smile. "You shall fail like so many before you. At the zenith of your ascension, it shall be snatched from you. For my part, I am well enough content. I have sewn death across this land and will reap the harvest.


    "And when all in this land are dead, I shall do the same to others."


    William looked past Melchious and saw the Void Stone. It was set on the top of the throne Melchious had sat upon. It was black as the darkest void, and light seemed to be drawn into it to die. It was like the pillars, yet it was worse now that he looked at it. Within it, he could see souls. Thousands and thousands of souls from generations of people were within it. They slept within, slowly being twisted.


    Raishans. It came into the mind of William that Melchious commanded the raishans. And with so many souls, he might create a mighty army and ravage many lands. Just as he had ravaged Khasmir and the northern reaches of Artarq.


    He must act! Yet a will-like ropes had wrapped around him, binding him in place gently. No anger could be mustered before such beauty, and he saw the same from the others.


    "You''re a monster," whispered Kiyora, eyes were going empty.


    Melchious just smiled. "An original observation if I''ve ever heard one. Though it has not grown any less true with use." The Axe of Fortenex began to glow with an unholy red light. The light entered the Void Stone, and there was screaming of absolute horror.


    In that moment, Melchious'' white garb shifted to a red cloak with bronze armor. A flash ensued as the spell was laid!


    At that moment, William felt he could see all of the Iron Kingdom. Yet a shadow fell over it, a hand of blood whose fingers reached out over all the lands, groping. Men, women, and children looked up in fear as the spell began to take hold of their hearts. This was wrong? But was it? Shouldn''t he have felt more concerned if it was wrong?


    Tanith acted first, and the spell broke. In a moment, her blades were out, and she was surging toward Melchious. Even as she did so, she screamed in agony and fell to the ground. Massacre breathed her flame, but what seemed a wave of blood arose to quench them. Felix faded into the shadows, and he emerged behind Melchious. He raised his blade to strike, but Melchious glanced at him and screamed in agony. Massacre let out a scream from all her heads and writhed. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Arraxia surged at Melchious. The agony spell was sent against her, but she moved on regardless. Melchious was forced to step back to avoid her claws. Bringing around the axe he nearly cleaved off her head, but Arraxia ducked low, and her tail slashed at him. A spear of flame came into her hand as she attacked him in a flurry of strokes.


    Yet Melchious defended with only one hand. He ducked and weaved easily, and small injuries soon appeared on Arraxia. He hardly seemed to be trying. Now William saw why Arraxia had never sought to overthrow him directly. There was an enemy with skill and deadly cunning beyond measure.


    But Tanith was there again with blades singing. Melchious began to move faster, their blades a blur of metal. A line of blood appeared across Melchious'' cheek, and as he flinched, she caught him across the leg. The weaving of his spell slowed. Yet his grip was still over the hearts of all within the Iron Kingdom. Yet it was going slowly. It was slower than it could have been.


    Then Kiyora glowed with a bright light and sent forth a wave of it.


    Melchious raised a hand, and the light faded while disarming Tanith with an off-hand. Kiyora yelled out in pain but sent forth her will again. For the moment, the spell was now held at bay. However, the Void Stone and the axe were still glowing with power. At any moment, Melchious would lose patience and cease his game. Like a cat who is tired of tormenting a mouse. At any moment, Tanith and the others would die.


    So why wasn''t he acting?


    "Act!" cried a voice within him that William did not know the name of. "Act before all is lost!"


    It was Elranor, though he had forgotten his name. William rushed at Melchious and drew his sword. Yet even as he did so, he realized it would not help Melchious. Instead, he ran past him for the Void Stone.


    Summoning the power of Elranor through the sword, he rushed up the steps and brought it down on the stone. There was a clash, and he was thrown back. He groaned as he hit the steps and arose again. However, even as he did so, he found raw agony coursing through him. His every nerve was on fire! The skin was melting from his bones!


    "As good a strategy as can be expected," said Melchious. "But, I am beyond your power."


    "Elranor, give me strength..." gasped William.


    He arose and raised his harp. Playing the music, he set his will against the Void Stone. The blackness grew still deeper. His music warped and changed to horrifying sounds, and he found something in his mind. It tore at his thoughts, trying to rip his being and render him a puppet of flesh. Pulling away, he thrashed against it as his song played against the stone. Little by little, he felt the defenses waver, only to be reinforced by more power.


    This wasn''t going anywhere! But what else could he do?


    Sweat was dripping from his brow, and his strength was being spent. His hands faltered as they became too cold to move.


    A hand took hold of his neck and lifted him up.


    Then he saw Melchious. Not Melchious the vulture. Or Melchious the wraith. Or even Melchious is the fairest of all creatures. They were all but facets of a greater whole. A whole that had been reassembled with the deaths of his avatars. Here was a being of unfathomable malice, devoid of pity, who wore horror and atrocity as a cloak.


    And there was a light within.


    "You fool. Elranor has no power here," said Melchious. "You might have torn down my pillars, but his worshippers are few and far between. It would take a miracle of unparalleled power to break this spell, and the rules of the gods are against him here.


    "Hold your spell, Dreaming Goddess. Or I''ll wring his neck."


    William realized that Kiyora had snuck up to the void and was working against it. He could feel the grip of Melchious tightening around him. Then Melchious blinked and shuddered, then let go of him. William fell and saw that Felix had driven a blade into the side of the demon. Melchious smashed him with a fist and drew out the blade of the Nakmar, which even now was turning an unholy red.


    He raised the sword to kill Felix, but William stepped between them and raised his shield. The blow held the weight of a mountain. It forced him to his knee, but William arose again and drove it upward. Melchious turned the blade with his Axe and knocked William''s legs out from under him.


    William hit the ground and heard the sound of screaming, not in his ears but in his mind. People throughout the Iron Kingdom, men, women, and children, were all now falling into the spell. Mother''s killed their children. Lifelong friends grappled with life or death. Each and every one of them was smiling. At the same time, they screamed.


    But Kiyora stood by the Void Stone, channeled her magic, and directed it with all she had. A bright light emanated around them, illuminating the entire room. Melchious turned and shielded his eyes.


    "Please! You have to help us!" cried Kiyora. Some murmured response came to him. It was the trees. She was talking to the trees. "Look, I broke the pillars, didn''t I! If you don''t help me, thousands of people will die! What? This isn''t their fault! Melchious, Melchious is the one who did it! Please, help us!"


    But there was only a contemptuous murmur of contempt and malice. She entreated repeatedly, but the trees refused to help or listen. They owed Kiyora nothing. The light faded, and Kiyora sank to her knees in despair. Melchious laughed. "So the spirits of the land have refused to help you. It is to be expected. After all, the people were the ones who erected those pillars.


    "Whether it was on my orders or not, they were responsible. You can understand how the trees might nurse a grudge." Then he looked to the door with eyes farsighted. "Well, it seems the madness is passing. There are holdouts, of course. Quite a few holdouts, I suppose I can thank you, would-be heroes, for that particular absurdity. Even I couldn''t drive the gods out completely. And those who remained faithful to them were all spared. That, as well as some others.


    "Ah, well, I imagine I could make good sport of them later. I''ll get what I want from them one way or the other."


    "I suppose the Withering King will take what remains." He cast aside Felix''s sword. The wound it had inflicted healed in moments. "I should kill you all now. But then, it would be a shame if no one survived to tell the tale of the Iron Kingdom. What is the purpose of art if no one looks at it?"


    Anger returned to William, a rage like nothing else. How many innocent people died because of him? How many? Too many to count? And for what? What had it all been for?


    He stood up and charged blindly at Melchious. He swung his sword but was thrown back by his will. Melchious regarded him with contempt as he raised a hand. "Fool. Let this be a lesson. No righteous anger will allow you to challenge me, for I am the stronger.


    "I shall kill at least one of you now to ensure the lesson is well learned."


    Melchious pointed his hand toward Tanith. Then, a blade passed through his hand. Melchious stepped backward with a flinch and ducked back to avoid losing his head. There was a shower of blood, and the hand regrew. "Well, another would-be hero. Who is it this time?"


    William looked to see their savior, clad in armor. Then he blinked. "Mother?!"


    The Lady Azgora stood before them, clad as a god for war.

 Chapter Twenty-EIght: The Might of Azgora

    Mother was clad in her silver armor. Her face was concealed beneath a bright helm, and on her back was a flowing white cape. Her sword was in her hand, emblazoned with gold. Her shining shield was on her other arm, emblazoned with a lightning bolt symbol. It was the symbol of Zeya.


    Melchious drew back, spinning the Axe of Fortenex into a stance as he did so. A smile came to his face, and he looked fair once more. "The Lady Azgora. I would have expected Raynald."


    Mother ignored Melchious. Instead, she looked at William, moving to him. "My son, are you all right?"


    Was he all right? The enormity of what had happened dawned on William. He nearly threw up, almost cried. Despite his best efforts, he couldn''t help but choke back a sob. "He killed them, Mother, everyone in the Iron Kingdom! He killed them all!"


    "I don''t see what you''re so upset about," noted Arraxia, rising up with her tail coiled. "It isn''t as if you knew any of them personally. Moreover, they were all rather boring anyway."


    "Sometimes, I remember why I let you live as long as I did, Arraxia," laughed Melchious. And he spun his axe in a flourish.


    Then he wasn''t laughing. Instead, he was falling backward. The wounds where his eyes had once been bled across his face. Mother slashed twice more, and his ears came off. With one final movement, the Lady Azgora tossed her sword. Then she rammed her fist so hard against Melchious'' mouth that his teeth shattered.


    Then, yanking backward, she pulled out his forked tongue. Down came her blade to cut right through it and plant itself in the ground before her. Tossing aside the tongue, she drew up her sword. Melchious fell backward, pouring blood all over the flagstones of his palace. Yet he was as silent as the stone.


    There were no screams of pain as the demon lord put his hands over his face. No moans of agony as the Axe of Fortenex clattered to the ground. A mist of red arose around him, cloaking him so that he was hidden from sight. Then, a clawed hand took up the Axe of Fortenex, and Melchious emerged.


    No more was he veiled in white. Nor were his features angelic. His hands had become clawed. His eyes were flaming gold and filled with hatred. His teeth were like knives, and he had a pair of horns on his head.


    And yet, he had not lost his composure. There was no anger in his bearing. The malice that fueled him was without fire. The agony he had felt seemed nothing to him. "I''m impressed, Azgora. You do seem to possess some talent as a warrior."


    "You don''t know what a warrior is," said Mother.


    They surged toward each other and met in a flurry of blows that blurred the air. Back and forth, they fought. They stepped around each other and exchanged blows of terrible power. Their cloaks billowed around them like wings. Their weapons gleamed in mutual blows, sending shockwaves through the air. One glanced off Azgora''s helm and forced her reeling backward. In triumph, Melchious leaped back and raised a hand. What seemed like red lightning shot forward. It wrapped around Mother, who was frozen in place, gritting her teeth.


    "A small spell but one I find useful," said Melchious. "It causes agony undreamed of to the one it is cast upon. No mere mortal may withstand it."


    Mother brought up her sword and lunged. Melchious nearly had his throat cut as a flurry of blows were set against him. "I am no mere mortal! The blood of Zeya runs in the veins of all my people! We are her chosen servants, and you will die by my hand!"


    Melchious parried the blows with careful ease. Sliding back, he turned the tables and struck back. "Am I to be impressed because the blood of the Rape Goddess flows through your veins? That is no achievement on your part.


    "Still, I see why Vanion went to the trouble of taming you." Then he took a shield to the face and reeled away.


    "You would never understand," said Mother, lunging to finish him.


    Melchious parried it and struck her across the face with the haft of his axe. The blow sent Azgora staggering backward to hit a pillar. She fell to a knee, then arose, leaning forward to set one hand against the pillar. "Do not confuse absolute contempt with a lack of understanding. I prefer to break my conquests. Taming them leaves them with far too much self-will.


    "As I shall break you."


    The pillar cracked. And Mother smiled as she sheathed her sword. Down came the pillar, and Mother caught it with one hand before spinning it around to hurl it at Melchious. The demon lord leaped over it. The pillar passed under him, struck the other row, and smashed right through them.


    Even as Melchious landed, Azgora was on him. She smashed him with her shield, and he was thrown backward. The Axe of Fortenex fell from his hand as he cracked against the broken wall.


    He landed and caught himself on one knee. For the first time, there was genuine rage there.


    "Wretched woman," he said, voice low. "Until now, I have only toyed with you. Now witness the unbridled power of the Axe of Fortenex-" He reached out as if to summon it.


    But the Axe was gone. Arraxia was standing by the entrance, waving. In her left hand was the Axe of Fortenex. In her right was the Void Stone, dark as its name. "Thank you, Lady Azgora, for distracting my former master. I shall remember you fondly for at least a few moments after your death."


    "You!" hissed Melchious.


    "Yes, me," said Arraxia. "Farewell Melchious."


    And she was gone, rushing down the halls. Melchious surged after her, but the ceiling above him cracked as he did. The entire left side of the throne room crumbled and fell inwards. Melchious let out a scream before he was buried beneath the rubble. The light of stars poured into the throne room from above.


    As the dust settled, there was silence.


    Then there were a primal howl. Out of the rubble came Melchious again. Now, all semblance of humanity had been shed. Wings like those of a hawk grew from his back as his hands became talons. Unharmed, he surged upward, laughing.


    Azgora surged after him, scaling the rubble. Rising, William snatched up his sword and followed. Coming out to the top, he saw the vastness of the dead kingdom all around him. The stench of death surrounded them, and William wretched as Melchious surged into the air.


    Turning around, Melchious drew a bow of fire. Pulling it back, he loosed an arrow of blue flame. As it shot forward, it split into thousands of arrows that surged down. Azgora raised her shield and kneeled, letting it cover her. The arrows struck the domed roof, and the stone melted and broke. But at it struck the shield, Azgora stood firm. As she did, she clenched a fist that began to crackle with lightning. The clouds gathered above them.


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    Then, four bolts of lightning descended from on high toward Melchious. He surged away as his flame arrows ceased. However, the lightning shot toward Azgora, who caught it in hand. They formed together into a single immense spear, and William could feel the heat of it on his face. Turning around, Azgora hurled the spear. It surged toward Melchious, and all the lands were bathed in white light for an instant. Yet Melchious lashed out with a whip, cutting a great tower in half. The tower fell between them, and the lightning bolt hit it. The stones and masonry exploded. Fragments were sent all around, and William ducked as stones fell near him.


    Looking up, he saw Melchious surging toward Azgora with duel whips of flame in his hands. Before she could move, her sword was snatched away. A moment later, she lost her shield, and Melchious struck again. But Azgora caught the whip in one gauntleted hand. She wrapped it around her wrist and pulled Melchious toward her.


    Bring around a fist, she smashed one hand through his chest. Dragging out his heart, she crushed it before his eyes. As he howled in agony, she grabbed his horns and smashed his skull against the stonework so it cracked. Yet Melchious reformed, looking more animalistic than ever, and soon they were fighting.


    Claw against fist, they grappled with one another. Azgora''s strength was beyond Melchious'' power to break. But flames poured from her wound to writhe her in flames, even as her hands pulsed with lightning. His claws surged for her eyes as something in his body snapped. A bladed tail surged from his back to stab at Azgora''s back but scraped off her armor. Wrapping it around her waist, he threw her off balance.


    Yet even as he did, Azgora adjusted her stance and threw him across the roof to hurl him from the balance. Turning in midair, Melchious found one of his wings broken and he fell like a stone into the streets beyond. The dead city stood forlorn and terrible for a moment.


    Then Mother''s eyes began to glow with a white light that soon emanated all around her. Soon, she rose into the air as the clouds above blotted out all light. Lightning began to surge down, hundreds of different bolts. One after another poured into Azgora''s outstretched hand. Together, they formed into a dense bolt of lightning that whited out all save her.


    Then Melchious arose from the streets, now less a being by himself but an evil presence in the mockery of a man. His form, a thing of flame and blood, rose high over all the city. A maw opened to reveal the unending horrors of the universe. All the city was now aflame around them as he surged toward Azgora.


    A wave of dark flame surged toward her as she hurled her bolt.


    Darkness and light battled, ripping and tearing. All the world was bathed in unfathomable twilight. There was a scream, and then Melchious was burned away.


    Victory was theirs.


    William lost track of time after that; the world seemed to blur as the clouds burst. Rain poured down on his face as he drifted, hardly able to speak. Cruel dawn rose over the city, revealing only the dead.


    The blood was washed away, but the corpses remained. No one spoke, or perhaps William didn''t hear them.


    Wherever they walked, they found people dead, murdered, or having committed suicide. A few had been killed without any sign of injury, perhaps by dark magic. However, from the palace''s towers, William had been able to perceive some survivors. These had fled at the sight of them. It seemed that the bloodshed had been less effective outside the city.


    His efforts blunted the efforts of Melchious. And Melchious himself had lost an avatar. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It was a small comfort. William wondered if the healer who had helped him had survived? Certainly, she''d seemed strong-willed. Perhaps she and others like her had weathered the storm. At the moment, he couldn''t remember her name. Or the names of those that he had saved from Grendesh. They had been faithful to Elranor, so they''d still be alive.


    "Are you all alive and whole?" asked Mother.


    It should have been the first thing they said, but no one felt like speaking. Looking at Mother then, she''d seemed more god than human. Zeya truly must have been immensely powerful in granting such abilities. Then William realized he hadn''t answered, and Mother was looking concerned.


    "Yes, thanks to you," said William.


    "Good," said Azgora. "Come quickly. There is a ship waiting for us in the harbor. We must leave."


    "But the people..." said Kiyora.


    "They are dead," said Azgora. "Only if we escape this place can we hope to avenge them. Vanion will look after those that remain when he gets here."


    They wandered through the broken halls of the palace. As they made their way out, they saw more and more corpses. Then, they passed from the palace and into the city. They saw no one alive. Were there no survivors? No people who had resisted the call to madness and clung to life among the ruins?


    He hoped so. Perhaps they had stood in terror of his company and chosen to hide. Certainly, no one had had time to do an exhaustive search of the grim ruins. Only the inner palace.


    "All this death," said Kiyora. "There were children. Babies. Little girls. He killed them all. I couldn''t save them."


    "Of course, you couldn''t," said Azgora. "Melchious is a demon of unfathomable power, and he was infused with the strength of Fortenex. It was pure hubris for you to think you could break his enchantment. Even with the Goldenwood Harp, you and William could not have stopped him."


    "We could have! We could!" said Kiyora. "It was the spirits! The spirits of the land! They wouldn''t help! They wouldn''t do anything! All they could think about was how the ancestors of the people in this kingdom raised a bunch of pillars! They didn''t even care about the people!"


    "It could have been worse," said Felix.


    "How?!" screamed Kiyora. "How could it have been worse?!"


    "Melchious could have used the pillars as a focus to drive the entire continent of Viokinar mad. Then he could murder us and escape with the axe," said Felix. "The bloodletting from such a result would probably recharge the axe again. Allowing him to do the same elsewhere." Kiyora fell silent.


    "Elranor saved the faithful, at least," said Tanith, who was a bit somber.


    "Why couldn''t he save them all?!" said Kiyora. "They didn''t deserve this! It isn''t fair!"


    "Of course, it isn''t," said Felix. "Why is one man born a pauper and another an emperor? Why do the strong prey on the weak? Life isn''t fair." How the hell was he so composed? It was like he didn''t even care? No, he was used to all this.


    What had Felix seen to make him like this? William thought it must have been during his time in Calisha. No wonder Tanith had been so nuts.


    They suddenly came to a halt. Before them, they saw a mother. She was lying against the steps of a house with a smile. In her hands was clutched a sword. It was driven through a child''s body and then through her stomach. And she was smiling. William turned away, but Azgora put a hand on his shoulder.


    "Don''t look away," she commanded. "This is the face of hell. This is what happens when demons are allowed to win. It was not by your failure that this place fell, but the failure of generations. Thousands should have acted but didn''t. Thousands knew what they did to be wrong, yet followed orders anyway.


    "Look at it, acknowledge it, and learn from it."


    William did look. Look at this abomination. This horror beyond imagining wrought by the mind of a creature that still lived and breathed. Something that should have never been but had been. It stayed with him long after they had left that place.


    They came to the docks, where the sea gates had been shattered. There, they found a boat waiting for them. Hrungeld was there. "Lady Azgora, you''re here. We feared the worst."


    "Set sail at once," said Mother. "There is nothing left in this place but ashes and death."


    Hrungeld looked around, then nodded. "I understand."


    They stepped onto the boat and set sail soon enough. As they left behind them a forsaken and broken land, William took off his helmet and threw it to the ground. Then he looked to those around him. His friends. His companions. They seemed as broken as he felt.


    He looked to Mother last of all. "How did you find us?"


    "Zeya was my guide," said Azgora. "You are important to her. I have told you that you have the destiny to fulfill."


    William could have asked. But he didn''t care about destiny right now. He wanted only one thing to happen in his future, and nothing was mysterious about it. The day stretched on as the Iron Kingdom sank into the distance. He stood there on the ship, wanting to scream. But he didn''t.


    "... I''ll kill him," he resolved at last. "I don''t care how long it takes. I don''t care what I have to do. I''ll kill Melchious one day. I''ll cut and plunge his powerless soul into the abyss prepared for him."


    No one replied. Kiyora was staring into space, hugging Massacre with dead eyes. Felix looked back at the Iron City, and Tanith was sharpening her blade. Mother looked at him. "I''m proud of you," she said suddenly.


    "What?" said William.


    "You''re finally acting like a warrior," said Mother. "It will be a long time before Melchious may recover from what I have done to him and set foot in this world again. And when he does, I am sure you will be ready to put a final end to him."


    "I''ll help you get him, William," said Kiyora suddenly.


    "And I''ll be there as well," said Tanith. "We''ll kill that bastard."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "...The world would be a much better place without people like him," said Felix, not looking up.


    "I will help you."


    "Thank you," said William. "All of you. It won''t be today or tomorrow. But we''ll see justice done. One way or another."


    The future would be grim. It would have much darkness. And William wasn''t sure he wanted to know what it held. However, he knew this much: One day, he would end Melchious forever. Even if it was his own death to do so.

 The Father of Withering

    So, Web of Iron is complete.


    This most recent book is a pivotal moment within William''s arc and the overall story. Many elements of the plot will be shifting henceforth. Melchious'' victory here symbolizes many things. Not the least of them is not what happens when he wins. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    Some readers complained that Melchious seemed a bit toothless as a villain. Hopefully, this should show just why he is so dreaded.


    We''ll return to Relma Artorious and her companions in the next installment. They will be having a very different sort of adventure.


    Stay tuned for the Father of Withering.

 Prologue: Among a Broken Realm

    The Iron Kingdom lay in ashes. Overnight, the people had been driven into a blood-crazed fury. One that had seen them butcher each other. Their corpses lined the streets and buildings. Those scattered villages protected by the gods were besieged. Clans of satyrs and giants came out of the mountains to take what land remained.


    But help was at hand. Colonization ships arrived under the golden cobra of House Gabriel. Black-armored men, with armies of mercenaries at their command, met the coming monstrosities. Three battles had already been fought, and the invaders had been checked. From there, the Harlenorians had shored up the defenders. Dead villages were being buried, and their houses were repurposed for the colonists '' use.


    Many a funeral was held over mass graves. Duke Vanion, the colonists'' leader, saw to it that the bodies were given rites and as much dignity as possible. He made contact with local leaders and coordinated with them for mutual gain.


    The Iron Kingdom would recover. But it would be a long wait.


    Lucius felt a twinge of pride for his students '' efforts. The spell had been a work of genius, set up over centuries. And Melchious had swelled the numbers of his raishan hordes for centuries. He looked to Karasush, the Sorcerer. "Melchous has done his work well."


    "Yes," said Karasush, a note of distaste in his tone.


    He''d hoped Fortenex''s minions would have an easy slaughter in taking the land. Instead, they were going to have a serious fight on their hands. "As usual. He might have done it better if you hadn''t allowed William to slip through your domain."


    That too, had been a work of genius, albeit of a different kind. A plan had been thrown together hastily to interfere with Melchious'' designs. And the survivors owed their lives to it. Still, Lucius took exception to one remark. "My domain? What do you mean? It belongs to the Withering King, and it was he who proclaimed that he be allowed a headstart.


    "William merely made good use of the time given to him."


    "And had you sicced your Einheroth on him right away, he wouldn''t have had the chance," noted Karasush. Karasush had a history of William Gabriel interfering with his plans.


    Lucius was not one to hold a grudge. He enjoyed the game and liked to see the newer players earn their spurs. He was certain William would make an excellent rival to Melchious. The dear boy always did his best when striving against some great hero. "Perhaps. But as your master favors blood and death, I favor humanity. William has the makings of a great champion of the human race. I thought it would be a shame for his story to end there. Besides, Melchious prefers to have someone to test himself against.


    "He''ll find much more entertainment matching wits against a worthy opponent. And I expect he''ll enjoy a vendetta with Azgora."


    "She slashed him to ribbons and blasted him with lightning," noted Karasush.


    Lucius chuckled. "Melchious has an immense tolerance for pain. And he does his best work when seeking vengeance. And now William has sworn vengeance himself.


    "Believe me, Karasush, it shall make for a worthy saga.


    "What would have happened if I had allowed William to be killed? Melchious should have wiped out the Iron Kingdom entirely. All would be dead. Vanion would have held some small territories for colonization. But no great wars or deeds would come from the conflict.


    "As it stands, the foundations have been laid for a new realm."


    "My master, Fortenex, understands this," said Karasush in irritation. "And that is why he has not pressed the matter. But I disagree entirely. Had the Iron Kingdom been cleared away, we could have opened one of the gates within this place. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Fortenex''s chosen could have established colonies with ease.


    "Instead, our territorial gains will be smaller and only gained after a serious fight."


    "Your caution serves your master well," said Lucius. "But I''m certain they will glad to face a worthy enemy. Their kind prefers to take the path of most resistance." Then, turning, he began to float away, his cloak fading behind him.


    "Where are you going now, Lucius?" asked Karasush.


    Lucius looked up, still fading. "Karasush, you are of the bloodline of my secondborn, and I am concerned for your wellbeing. But I see no reason why I should discuss my plans with you."


    "You might enjoy explaining them," said Karasush flatly. He didn''t sound like someone who thought he''d been clever. His tone was calm.


    Lucius remembered why he liked this fellow. There was a rare sorcerer of the dark powers who was wholly practical in his methods. He allowed himself to rematerialize. "I suppose I would. It might pass the time between cradle and oblivion. I''m heading to the southeast, beyond the Black Mountain. To the Dusk Lands."


    "To what end?" asked Karasush.


    "The Dust Elves have made their new homeland there," said Lucius. "Or they did decades ago. Perhaps in a century, one loses track of time. They have other holdings in other lands, but that is the only place they and they alone possess.


    "I''ve already exterminated the Dreamer Elves.


    "I thought I might make the Dust Elves the next on my list."


    "Why?" asked Karasush.


    Lucius laughed. "I enjoy raising armies of undead to destroy civilizations. I don''t like elves. And I''m rather in the mood for some plotting."


    "Surely, you must need more reason to destroy a species than that," said Karasush.


    "On the contrary, Karasush," said Lucius, "I can. I am. And there is nothing you can do to stop me. Melchious has worshippers for that reason, but not Fortenex. And when you get a message to that place, my plans will already be in motion."


    "There are times, Lucius, that I wonder why my people ceased to worship you," said Karasush. "Then I see how joyless you are in the destruction you wreak, and I wonder no more. Melchious destroys because he enjoys it, but you do it as a hobby. Something to pass one idle and meaningless moment to the next.


    "Have you considered taking up wood carving?"


    "My children are entitled to do and believe as they wish," said Lucius. "My only interest is in ensuring they inherit the world." And he was about to leave.


    "...The Dust Elves are home to the last remaining Dark Gate in this world, aren''t they?" asked Karasush.


    His education had served him well. Had he lips, Lucius should have smiled. "Indeed, they are. I am glad your education shows itself, Karasush. In fact, it lies within my stronghold of Del Gabor. Why the interest?"


    "It occurs to me that we have not tested the creation of gates," said Karasush. "The Dark Gate within that realm might be useful as a... testing ground.


    "To iron out any kinks in the spellwork."


    "The Dark Gates were not meant to go between worlds, Karasush," said Lucius. "They were meant to transport people across miles. The two are different tasks."


    "I know," said Karasush. "But there is some overlap. And it isn''t as though there are more Dark Gates to connect it to."


    "What are you suggesting?" asked Lucius. He was genuinely curious.


    "An alliance of sorts," said Karasush. "I will contact the sorcerers on the other side. I may convince them to send through a small colonization effort. That effort will then assist you in seizing control of the Dust Lands.


    "We learn more about the process. And it will be no great loss if we fail."


    "Well, it seems a worthwhile means to pass the time," said Lucius. "Very well then, I shall make the arrangements.


    "Now, if you''ll excuse me, my wraiths have some disputes I must judge. Farewell."


    As Lucius departed, his form vanished first. Just before his will went away, he saw Karasush walk off, muttering to himself. "...I truly hate that man." He heard him say.


    Well, Lucius couldn''t account for taste.

 Chapter One: Preparations

    They would be leaving soon.


    The office of Steward Benarus had more books in it than the last time Relma had seen it. And he''d read virtually all of them enough to put creases in the covers. Given how many books there had been, that was saying something. Benarus was a collector, and one of the libraries he''d funded had nearly burned down. Until the repairs were finished, those surviving books had been moved. Fortunately, Relma had been able to get the fire to avoid them.


    As they approached the desk, Benarus shook Estela''s hand with a look of clear pride. Relma knew they were close, though she had never found it in herself to respect Benarus. Not since the Tournament of Kings, anyway. The memory of him ignoring justice for convenience was still on her. Though she would never say as much out loud. "Lady Estela, I''ve been expecting you. Please, sit down." He sat down in his elaborate chair. Estela did the same while Relma remained just behind the seat, standing. "Then, you will be leaving soon?"


    "Yes, we''ve already made most of the arrangements," said Estela. "And we''d have to set out sooner or later."


    "That I will not dispute, Lady Estela," said Benarus with a smile. "Gel Carn will be less bright for your absence, however. Sir Frederick and many others have already gone west to the Black Marshes as things stand. There may be a battle for them to fight soon enough.


    "Still, are you sure of the route? The Black Marshes have never been safe, and word from Lord Anias is that the satyrs are mustering. It may be wise to reconsider."


    "Didn''t Lord Anias deny that report," asked Estela.


    "He did," admitted Benarus, looking a bit grim. He leaned back in his chair and looked over the stacks and stacks of books. "But Lord Anias is not a man I am fond of, nor have I learned to rely on him. He is... self-interested and more than a little slothful. I trust Anton far more. If I were you, I should head south, over the Golden River, and go around the Black Marshes. It may take a few extra weeks, but you will dodge a much more dangerous journey. One that could leave a large part of your forces dead."


    Ever the cautious, never the bold. Though there was merit in the suggestion, Relma knew Estela would not listen.


    "I understand that Steward Benarus," said Estela. "However, I''m going to have to take the chance. The Kingdom of Estal is nearly bankrupt. Stormstrike is contemplating rebellion, and the Dragon Empire is mustering to the south. My winnings from the treasury will be needed to raise an army.


    "And pay off several debts that may cause others to side against us."


    "Well, you''ve decided then, and I don''t intend to say any more on it," said Benarus.


    He sighed and looked out one window into the castle courtyard. They were still cleaning up from the tournament. Finally, he looked back. "You''ve been with us since you were twelve. You were something of a troublemaker in your youth, Lady Estela. But your service has been invaluable to me." Both of those were probably polite understatements. "You have my leave, of course." He fell silent for a moment. "That said, your request to take Ajax with you is..."


    "Yes?" asked Estela.


    "Well, it is not one I chose to grant lightly," said Benarus. "But, he does know the Black Marshes better than anyone, so he is the best choice.


    "Telix has agreed to send another to take his place while he is away. Ajax will know that if he betrays us, another of his family will die. He will lead you through the Black Marshes and to Escor.


    "Even so, I should not trust him any further than he can be thrown." Then he looked to Relma and eyed her warily. "Squire Relma, are you certain of going on this expedition?"


    "Well, I am Estela''s squire," said Relma, choosing her words carefully. "And I need to see Escor. Even if I never become King of anything, I must understand Escor." She did not want to reveal that she did not fully trust Benarus to act in her interests. She knew he''d act in what he thought was her interest. But thinking and doing were two very different things.


    "She will have plenty of help already, Relma," noted Benarus. "Reginald De Chevlon and Varsus Gabriel have already agreed to accompany Estela. My niece, Fayn, has also volunteered. And De Cathe will be going as well.


    "There is no need for you to put yourself at risk."


    "Thank you," said Relma, remembering how Fayn had nearly been hung by him. She hadn''t quite put that behind her, though she had forgiven him. "But... well... I wish to go all the same. Do I have your leave?"


    "Of course," said Benarus.


    Relma paused, unsure if she should ask. "Why is Fayn going out of curiosity?"


    "She wishes to fight in the wars," said Benarus grimly. "I allowed her to go to be rid of her."


    "Steward Benarus, may I ask you something?" asked Relma.


    "Of course," said Benarus.


    "Why do you hold Fayn in such hatred?" asked Relma.


    Benarus remained silent. He drummed his fingers along the surface of a book for a moment. His expression was stern. Finally, he spoke. "...When she was five, I gave her a puppy. She drenched it in oil, set it on fire, and laughed. That more or less told me everything I need to know about how she''d do as a Steward."


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    Relma shuddered. She''d known Fayn loved fire, but that was harsh. "Well... that is pretty bad."


    "And that is an understatement," said Benarus. "The girl is a beast."


    "Did anyone ever tell her no?" asked Relma.


    "Hmm?" said Benarus.


    "Well, I mean, I was told she was raised by servants," said Relma. "Did anyone ever try to stop her from doing that sort of thing?"


    Benarus sighed, and Relma saw a man tired by years of labor suddenly. Relma knew his brother, Cervan, had been a monster who had come to a monstrous end. Stories of what had been found about him were still told to scare children. "My dear girl, right and wrong cannot be taught. We all know when our actions are wrong. We merely tell ourselves otherwise to justify them.


    "At any rate, she is going with you. Given that she seems to have gained some regard for you, I expect you''ll be able to keep her in check.


    "But I would mourn losing you."


    That more or less concluded the meeting. Though Benarus spoke at length with Estela on many things. Relma, for her part, was convinced that Benarus was on her side. She was not, however, convinced that that was entirely a good thing.


    Relma and Estela made their way out when the meeting was officially over. In the hall, they found Ajax. The wolf-boy had his arms crossed, and his white hair had been better combed. He stood as Estela approached. "So, how did it go?"


    "I''ve gotten Benarus to let you take us through the Black Marshes, Ajax," said Estela, pushing a strand from her hair.


    "Oh, good. I was going to go anyway," said Ajax.


    "You should act like the terms of this agreement mean something to you," said Estela. Ajax shrugged. "Why? They don''t."


    "Forget it, Estela," said Relma. "Ajax, out of curiosity, why do you know the Black Marshes so well? They''re a long way from the Wolven Forest."


    "I go there to get all my poisons," said Ajax. "Or I did. There are all kinds of plants in that place that can kill you. Some can heal. Ever heard of Blood Moss?"


    "No, what is it?" asked Relma.


    "A moss with remarkable healing powers," said Ajax. "It dates back to before the breaking of the Goddess Triad. Back when Laevian did more than spread diseases."


    "Goddess Triad?" asked Relma. "I haven''t heard that phrase before."


    "He means the three elven goddesses," said Estela as they walked out of the halls. "My Father told me about them. There was Alchara of the High Elves. Then Laevian of the Dust Elves, and the Dreaming Goddess of the... well, she didn''t have a race last I checked. Or at least I''ve never heard what they were."


    "But every god has a race," said Relma.


    "Not the Dreaming Goddess," said Ajax, drawing a knife and spinning it on his fingers. "Her worship mostly was relegated as a secondary god."


    "Actually, there are some places she is worshipped fully," said Estela. "I heard about them in the Khasmir campaign from Raynald De Chevlon. The Nakmar Dwarves in Seathorius worship her first and foremost. Many of the satyrs do as well.


    "Do you remember Sir Gabriel from the Tournament of Kings?" They came out of the castle and into the main courtyard of Gel Carn. Troops were drilling within it; their spears pointed over their huge round shields. Their helmets covered their faces, and their armor was polished heavily.


    "Yes," said Relma. She''d liked William, even if she''d been on the opposite side.


    "Well, apparently, he is considered one of her champions," said Estela.


    "But he''s a paladin of Elranor," said Relma.


    "It''s a dual allegiance of sorts," said Estela. "He built a temple to her in Artarq. I saw it under construction."


    "Temples," scoffed Ajax.


    "Why the scorn?" asked Relma.


    "You humans build all these huge structures to symbolize things," said Ajax. "But they''re ugly and unnatural. Give me the roots and branches of trees any day."


    "Ajax, you''re half-wolf," said Relma. "We don''t have your natural advantages. And we have to get out of the rain somehow.


    "Besides, you warped the trees of the Wolven Forest into a fortress. That''s just as unnatural."


    "No, it isn''t," said Ajax, crossing his arms and giving her a flat look.


    "Yes, it is, "said Estela. "You''re using magic to create something which wouldn''t happen otherwise. How is that different from putting a bunch of stones on top of each other?"


    "We don''t clearcut entire forests to do it," shot back Ajax. "The trees are still alive and flourish. When you humans build villages, you hack down miles of trees. Then, you use their rotting carcasses to build homes.


    "How would you react if I built a house out of human corpses?"


    "That''s completely different," said Estela.


    "How?" asked Ajax. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Estela remained silent. "...Well, what about you?


    "How would you react if I warped the bodies of wolves so that they were formed to form a mass of living flesh? One that I used as my shelter. Trapped in place, unable to move, but still alive. That''s what you''re doing with the trees."


    "That isn''t the same at all," said Ajax. "Trees don''t mind how they grow."


    "Well then, there''s your answer," said Estela.


    "There is a huge difference between shifting how a tree grows and hacking them in two," snapped Ajax.


    "I don''t care what the trees think, to be perfectly honest," admitted Estela.


    "Why didn''t you just say that before, then?" asked Relma.


    Estela shrugged. "I thought I might as well win the argument first."


    "Well, you wasted your time, then," said Ajax.


    "Can we focus?" asked Relma. "We''ve got to prepare for the trip."


    "You''ve got to prepare, you mean," said Estela, opening her pouch and drawing out a letter. She offered it to Relma, who took it. "Relma, I want you to get everything on this list together by tomorrow."


    Relma unrolled it and read through it in surprise. "What is all this?"


    "It''s a list of tools and equipment that De Cathe recommends everyone carry," said Estela. "I want enough for both of us."


    "Ten-foot pole?" asked Relma. "What''s this for?"


    "To test the firmness of ground and how deep pools of water are," said Ajax. "Among other things."


    "Well, how am I supposed to carry two ten-foot poles and all the rest?" asked Relma. "Along with all this other stuff?"


    "I''ll help you carry it," said Ajax.


    "Thanks," said Relma.


    Then Estela offered her a bag of coins. "Take this. It should be enough to buy the supplies."


    "Yes, Master Estela," said Relma.


    "Knock it off and get moving," said Estela.


    Relma laughed. "Sorry."


    Relma sprinted off alongside Ajax. They''d be leaving soon, but as usual, there were preparations to make. At least things would be getting interesting again...

 Chapter Two: Fyar, Lord of Flies

    Relma spent the day gathering together everything Estela had asked for. She remembered how Ronald and she had drawn up plans during this time. Plans on how to plan different kinds of trips. She took two rope sets, one to use and one to lose. In fact, she made sure they had two of everything they might need. There were also extra knives because you needed a knife. Extra rations and some bread and cheese for a nice breakfast early on were purchased and bought.


    Also, Estela had a spare sword from the armor, given in case her one broke. And, of course, there was a spear and extra arrows from the fletcher, which Relma would carry for Estela. On and on it went until Relma realized her pack was getting pretty heavy.


    But then, they would be gone for quite some time. These packs were going to get a lot lighter soon. Things got lost on the road, and you never knew what you might need. After consideration, she added an extra canteen and supplies and made a pack for Ajax.


    It took far longer than Relma would have liked, and she only managed to get the rest in time to go to bed. That night, she slept fitfully, not sure about leaving Gel Carn. Now and then, her thoughts turned to her home back in the lands of Lord Anton. She and Ronald had grown up there together.


    Now Ronald was gone off with Sir Frederick, questing. She wondered what adventures they had been having and if he would tell her about them later. Though, who knew when he¡¯d actually get back. It could be months or even years, depending on what demanded Sir Frederick¡¯s attention. By the time Relma met Estela the next day, she wasn¡¯t feeling very well rested. The upcoming journey had weighed on her mind, and she¡¯d hardly slept a wink. She felt quite miserable, actually.


    Why had Ronald had to leave? They¡¯d been a group before, but now the group had broken up. It just didn¡¯t feel right going off without him. But he was off in Blackfear, having adventures keeping the roads safe from the undead. An important task with the blessing of Steward Benarus and Baroness Saphra Delenay. It was helping people. Ronald had promised to do it in her name.


    It was important, and it could do a lot to both shores up Relma¡¯s support and help her.


    The meeting place was on the road just outside the gates of Gel Carn. It had been set up near some old stones erected to appease local fairies long ago. No fairies dwelled here now, but the markings had gone cold, and the glow disappeared. Aunt Pan had told her that once they had glowed constantly with the power of Isriath. But as her power faded, magic departed this place, and other spirits came to replace them.


    Estela sat by an ordinary stone near the shrine and polished her shield. Her helm was at her feet, and her armor was on her while her bow was propped up against the shrine. She looked beautiful in the sun, with her hair falling around her shoulders. She looked up as Relma and Ajax drew near. ¡°Do you have all the supplies?¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course I do,¡± said Relma, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. ¡°We had to spend most of yesterday looking for them, but we found them.¡±


    ¡°Easy for you to say. I carried most of it,¡± muttered Ajax. Ajax was about twice as strong as any of them put together. Relma had seen him in action personally. She and Estela had been throwing around like ragdolls when they¡¯d fought last.


    ¡°No, you didn¡¯t,¡± said Relma, who had a lot of endurance over short distances. ¡°I carried just as much as you, and you¡¯re a quarter-demon. Where¡¯s Aunt Pan?¡±


    And then Aunt Pan appeared down the path, walking with a long black staff. Her hair was tied behind her head in a bun, and she looked just as tired. ¡°Here, dear. I just finished the last of my runes.¡±


    ¡°Well then, all we have to do is wait for Varsus and Reginald,¡± said Relma. She hoped they¡¯d slept better. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Actually, they went on yesterday,¡± said Estela, not seeming near as tired. ¡°They were planning to meet us on the borders of the Black Marsh.¡±


    ¡°Why are they in such a hurry?¡± asked Ajax, sounding suspicious.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± admitted Estela, drawing a knife and tossing it into the air. She caught it by the handle as it fell and sheathed it in one movement. ¡°Reginald received a letter from Hawkthorne, though. He went to the border villages with De Cathe. Maybe he wanted some help with something.¡±


    ¡°Either way, we should probably start out,¡± said Relma, wanting to get going. ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll meet Frederick and Ronald at the villages?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Aunt Pan with a sigh. ¡°The Black Marshes have a very long border, and villages are everywhere. We¡¯re headed to the domain of Lord Anias. Frederick will be further south in the lands of Lord Anton, where the satyrs will be gathering.¡±


    ¡°Is it serious?¡± asked Relma as they began to walk.


    ¡°We don¡¯t know,¡± admitted Aunt Pan sadly. ¡°There are a few rumors of satyr activity. Some say that they¡¯ve gotten a new leader who means to lead them against us.


    ¡°I have already made contact with many local spirits, and there does seem to be real movement. Yet the spirits are not responding to me as quickly as they should. My usual friends seem hesitant to speak to me.¡±


    ¡°Is it that bad?¡± asked Relma.


    ¡°Better, actually,¡± said Estela, stretching her neck with a smile. ¡°Satyrs are a vicious piece of work. Leaders come and go all the time. They¡¯re always backstabbing eachother. That¡¯s why they are on good terms with demons.


    ¡°When a demon rules over them, they can unite about something. Half a knight¡¯s job is fighting it out with your kind, including your Father, Relma.¡± Relma said nothing to that; she didn¡¯t want to talk about Hadleim. The subject of the great satyr hunter who tried his hand at her task before her made her feel unimportant. Especially when you considered who he adventured. That and how much more they achieved.


    It also didn¡¯t really interest her all that much. Hadleim was dead, as was Relma¡¯s Mother. Why was it so important? She¡¯d known they were dead from before she was eight. It didn¡¯t make them important. Just because Tuor killed them, it meant nothing.


    ¡°When was the last time there was a demon in the Blackmarsh?¡± asked Relma, wanting to change the subject.


    ¡°There hasn¡¯t been a demon in the Black Marshes for centuries,¡± said Estela sadly. ¡°Not since Melchious was driven out of place by Anoa V.¡±


    ¡°What are you babbling about, I¡¯m a demon, and I go there all the time!¡± said Ajax. He sounded a bit offended, oddly enough. Relma didn¡¯t think being called a demon was a compliment.


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    Estela looked at him in irritation. ¡°You don¡¯t count.


    ¡°Either way, even if this new leader arises, the Dust Elves will just kill him. They¡¯re the greatest assassins in the world.¡±


    ¡°Won¡¯t that create a martyr?¡± asked Relma. It seemed a logical question.


    ¡°You have to care about something for it to be a martyr,¡± said Estela. ¡°Satyrs hate eachother as much as they hate us.¡±


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t speak so freely, Estela,¡± said Aunt Pan, voice chiding. ¡°Satyrs are a vicious race, but they are far closer to humans than you know.¡± She halted and looked suddenly into the forests, gaze searching through the trees.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± asked Estela.


    ¡°It¡¯s... well, it¡¯s not a very pleasant story,¡± said Aunt Pan, turning back. ¡°And we don¡¯t have time for it now. Suffice it to say that satyrs are, in many ways, a dark reflection of humans. A sort of twisted-¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± snapped Ajax, slipping his hands into his pockets and stalking onward. Aunt Pan looked at him darkly. ¡°Perhaps you don¡¯t, savage. But I was not speaking with you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure you weren¡¯t, but I must listen to you talk. So shut up,¡± snapped Ajax.


    The two of them had never gotten on well at all. Relma supposed some things wouldn¡¯t change, however much she wished otherwise. There''s no reason not to try changing them. ¡°Ajax, that wasn¡¯t respectful.¡± That was what she said.


    ¡°You needn¡¯t concern yourself, Relma,¡± said Aunt Pan. ¡°I don¡¯t expect courtesy from such a beast.¡±


    ¡°And I wouldn¡¯t expect to understand from-¡°Relma set a hand to Ajax¡¯s shoulder, and he halted. Their eyes met, and finally, he looked away. ¡°Never mind.¡±


    Relma remained silent for a time as they walked, admiring the scenery. The woods and trees grew thick in these regions, but she¡¯d heard of forests even greater. It was said that far to the south, near the Ghost Mountains, there were vast trees. Trees are taller than castles and thicker than towers. The villages out here were built with manned walls and stood in their perpetual shadow. And sure enough, their packs had gotten lighter as they journeyed over the days.


    She wished she could see these empty lands where no one dwelled. But few people ever ventured that far, for it had been a domain of Laevian for centuries. Laevian and lesser demons, such as Adrianeth, of whom Relma had heard only a little. Supposedly, he lived in some ancient, overgrown castle. He sent demons to attack those who crossed the river. Only in recent decades had men begun to return, and they were only a few scattered villages. Until then, nobody had even known Adrianeth existed in that part of the world.


    Nobody really knew how he¡¯d ended up in that place.


    Gel Carn became gradually more distant as they headed west. As they went into forested regions near the Black Marsh. Relma remembered something she had heard in several places. ¡°Aunt Pan, is it true my father fought in the satyr wars?¡±


    ¡°He did,¡± said Aunt Pan, nodding. ¡°That was where I met him, actually.¡± Her gaze became distant and filled with memory. ¡°He was a brave man.¡±


    ¡°Was he the Heir of Kings?¡± asked Relma.


    ¡°No, actually,¡± said Aunt Pan, smiling. ¡°He was the last of the Artor family, whose banner you used in the Tournament of Kings. He had a name to make for himself, and he made it well. But he always tempered his attacks with mercy.¡±


    ¡°Lord Argath said that they knew each other,¡± said Relma.


    ¡°They were rivals, actually,¡± said Aunt Pan. ¡°Bitter ones indeed. They disagreed on how the war against the satyrs should be conducted. Marn wanted to exterminate them. Hakar wanted to beat them and negotiate a truce to save casualties.¡±


    ¡°How did he meet my mother?¡± asked Relma.


    ¡°I introduced them,¡± said Aunt Pan. ¡°I was hoping that I could reestablish the Artor family. To work your family back into the throne over the course of generations.


    ¡°Then Tuor got to them,¡± Her face became grim. Relma remembered when Aren had told her about him.


    ¡°The student who betrayed Arengeth,¡± said Estela.


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Aunt Pan, voice cold. ¡°I tried to save them. Suffice to say, I failed.¡±


    Suddenly, Ajax halted, tensing as though for a spring. ¡°Stop,¡± he said in a sharp voice. One clawed hand was raised as he sniffed the air.


    ¡°What is it?¡± asked Relma.


    ¡°I smell something in the air,¡± said Ajax, sniffing. ¡°Satyrs. Don¡¯t look around. They¡¯re waiting for us on the road ahead.¡±


    ¡°Do we go around?¡± asked Relma.


    ¡°No, they¡¯d notice that,¡± said Ajax, snarling in a sound more like a wolf than a man. ¡°I¡¯m going to go into the woods hunting now.¡± Then he got down to his hands and feet, looking more like a wolf than ever. He spoke in a louder tone. ¡°You keep on ahead! I¡¯m getting some meat for tonight!¡±


    And he rushed off into the woods. Aunt Pan sighed. ¡°No need for that.¡± Then, raising a finger, a fly flew to land on it. ¡°Excuse me. Fyar, is it? It has been some time.¡±


    Many other flies began to gather, and they buzzed in unison. As they did, the buzzing gradually took on words. ¡°Indeed it has, Pandora the Sorceress. Long ago, you fed my children with carrion when they were hungry. How may I assist you?¡±


    ¡°A great many satyrs are waiting in ambush ahead of us,¡± said Pandora. ¡°I was wondering if you could force them away. Don¡¯t kill them, though.¡±


    ¡°As you wish. My debt shall be repaid,¡± said Fyar.


    The flies dispersed, and the buzzing stopped. Then, it began again, growing louder and louder as masses of flies flew in from the surrounding woods. They surged into the trees on either side and heard curses and swears. The buzzing was maddening to listen to, and Relma hated it badly, trying to keep them away.


    Soon, a pack of hair men with goat hoofs fled down the road, pursued by them. Their filthy clothes and blades were of no use against them at all.


    ¡°What did you do?¡± asked Estela.


    ¡°Fyar is a spirit of flies,¡± said Aunt Pan. ¡°I arranged for a battle to take place at this spot long ago. He remembers it still.¡±


    ¡°You started a battle?¡± asked Estela.


    ¡°No, the battle was going to happen anyway,¡± said Aunt Pan. ¡°I can¡¯t remember the details. I merely told Fyar to consider the corpses a gift.¡±


    ¡°A spirit of flies?¡± asked Relma.


    ¡°Of course,¡± said Aunt Pan. ¡°Insects are not very intelligent in themselves. But when enough of them swarm together, they often manifest their own spirits. Those spirits can live on long after the original insects are dead.


    ¡°When you are a sorcerer, you want to contact as many spirits as possible. It often pays off later.¡±


    Ajax stole back into sight. He held a satyr by the hair and threw him on the ground before them. Then he stalked forward and put a foot on his throat. He glared at Aunt Pan. ¡°What the hell was that?!¡±


    ¡°I dealt with the ambush,¡± said Aunt Pan.


    ¡°Well, you dealing with that little ambush got me bitten all over,¡± snapped Ajax.


    ¡°Perhaps Fyar mistook you for one of them,¡± said Aunt Pan.


    ¡°Well, whether he did or not, I have a prisoner for us,¡± said Ajax.


    ¡°Get off me, hound!¡± snarled the satyr. ¡°I¡¯ll not say a word to you or any other.¡± Estela put the blade of her sword between his legs. ¡°What do you want to know?¡±


    ¡°Why were you lying in wait for us?¡± asked Estela.


    ¡°To ambush you,¡± said the satyr.


    ¡°Why were you trying to ambush us?¡± asked Estela.


    ¡°Because it was what we planned,¡± said the satyr.


    Estela stabbed him in the leg, and he howled in pain. ¡°You will tell me what I want to know, or I will start cutting bits of you off. Starting between your legs?¡±


    ¡°...Fine, we were told to kidnap that girl over there, the Heir of Kings,¡± said the satyr. ¡°You probably could have guessed that already. I¡¯m not sure why you bothered to ask.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± asked Relma.


    ¡°You are good at asking stupid questions, aren¡¯t you?¡± asked the satyr.


    Estela raised her sword, and he cowered. ¡°Alright! Alright!


    ¡°We were ordered to by Lucius.¡±


    The air went cold, though Relma didn¡¯t know why. Aunt Pan went very still.


    ¡°Lucius?¡± asked Estela. ¡°That¡¯s not satyr name? Who is this Lucius?¡±


    ¡°Not very well-read for a knight, are you?¡± scoffed the satyr. ¡°He is the first of three demons. Death cannot take him, for from him, death was born. He commanded that we take the Heir of Kings, and by the unborn god, we shall!


    ¡°FOR MELCHIOUS!!¡±


    Then he drew out a knife, knocked Estela¡¯s blade aside, and rose. Ajax reached around and snapped his neck. His body fell limp to the ground.


    ¡°...Well, that was enlightening,¡± said Estela. ¡°Excellent. New carrion,¡± said Fyar. The flies ate well, and soon only bones remained.

 Chapter Three: Shadow of Withering

    They journeyed up the road quickly, taking little time to admire the scenery. Though Relma could still take in the birds chirping and the breeze through the trees a bit. She hadn''t seen many of these paths before and doubted she''d come by them again. So she took what time she could to memorize landmarks and remember what she saw.


    In a few weeks, she''d probably forget it all. But that was no reason not to try and keep track of it. You only had one chance to walk by a place and time, so why waste it?


    Even so, Relma felt sick from what she''d seen before and was glad to leave it behind. The idea that someone who hoped, dreamed, and breathed could be reduced to a feast for flies disturbed her. Not that she had anything against flies, she''d always avoided swatting them. But the fragility of mortal existence bothered her.


    Why did people have to die in so many terrible and horrible ways? And why did Relma and people like them have to help them to those deaths? Relma had inspired armies to fight; even if she''d saved lives, she''d also ended them. Or at least inspired other people to end them with Lightning Trail.


    It bothered her.


    And it bothered her more than Relma would eventually have to kill someone directly. Or at least she would if she kept getting into battles like this. All the more reason to avoid them, she supposed.


    Of course, she knew there were souls. The meat and bone she apparently consisted of was just a shell, but that didn''t stop her from worrying. Would she one day be a feast for flies? Or would her corpse be burned or buried?


    She was saved from morbid thoughts by Estela. Her knight asked the question Relma had wondered about. "Who was this Lucius? And why would he be interested in Relma?" asked Estela.


    "That, Estela, is a very complicated story," said Aunt Pan, looking haunted. "Every race that is born has a god they were given to when they were first created. It is this god''s responsibility to look after them and guide them. Every race except the satyrs."


    "Why not them?" asked Relma. "Don''t they need a god?"


    "They do, though they may be beyond help," said Aunt Pan. "The satyrs did not develop naturally. They are not a race by themselves but a twisted version of another race. Humans. to be more specific."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "When the races were created in the beginning, there were two of each kind," said Aunt Pan. "A man and a woman. From them, the entire race is descended, and their lives shape all the lives to come. For humans, the male was Lucius. The female was Evoria".


    "So, what does this have to do with satyrs?" asked Estela.


    "There are many stories about what happened," said Aunt Pan. "But what is agreed is that Lucius had a competitive streak. He wanted humans to be the best and became obsessed with outdoing all the other races.


    "He did such a good job of it that the gods had to intervene."


    "They set limits on the lifespans of all the races. Humans were given a smaller lifespan, and Lucius did not take it well.


    "He murdered Evoria and then killed himself in a dark ritual. And from their blood sprang the satyrs. It was the ultimate abomination.


    "The first man and women of a race have within them their entire race. When Lucius murdered Evoria, he left many of his species unborn. From there, he used that species and created the satyrs.


    "He then set them on the elves with a single purpose. To kill them all."


    Relma felt a chill go through her blood. Somehow, she knew the truth was, if possible, even darker. She felt like crying at the prospect of all the tragedy that would result. Not that she showed it. "That''s a bit of an overreaction, isn''t it?"


    "Lucius believed that the elves were favored by the gods. That his own species had been neglected," said Aunt Pan. "Since he couldn''t strike at the gods, he decided to destroy their perceived favorites. And he almost succeeded.


    "The Dreamer Elves were completely wiped out. The Dust Elves fled and became nomads. The High Elves would have been destroyed too if Elranor hadn''t sent humans and dwarves to aid them."


    "So satyrs were born to destroy the elven species?" said Estela. She didn''t sound nearly as affronted at the idea as she should. In fact, her tone was almost fascinating.


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    "Yes," said Aunt Pan. "They scorn the teachings of the gods and worship Lucius as their ancestor. Their other gods are demons, like Melchious and Zigildrazia."


    "What is this Unborn God, though?" asked Relma.


    "A myth," said Ajax. "The satyrs believe that the blood they spill is filling the body of a god that has not been born. One who will arise and preside over the destruction of all things someday."


    "It''s laughable," said Aunt Pan. "Gods are not born. They either have existed since before the universe. Or their domain has passed to someone worthy of it. You cannot create a new domain."


    "So humans and satyrs have the same ancestor," said Relma thoughtfully. It all clicked with what she knew and what her greater self knew.


    "Yes," said Aunt Pan with a sigh. "That is why they can interbreed. No other two races can do so. Though some sources say the Dreamer Elves could."


    "But why would Lucius want to come after me?" Relma questioned. That was something that her other self had no answers to.


    "I do not know," admitted Aunt Pan. She looked all the more haunted and seemed about to say something. Then she thought better of it and said something else. "This bears further investigation. We''ll speak with De Cathe once we reach the border."


    "De Cathe won''t know anything," said Ajax, confident and bold. The real question was why and Estela seemed to ask it at once.


    "And I suppose you do?" asked Estela, looking at him with irritation. Estela and De Cathe were close allies and friends. Estela had always placed loyalty as a prize virtue, and De Cathe had been loyal to her family for generations.


    The House had done very well by association with House Vortegex.


    "I know more than you," said Ajax, giving her a confident smirk. "You want to get someone''s reasons for acting; you ask them. I''m going on ahead. I''ll talk with the satyr chieftains and see what all this is about."


    "Do you actually know satyr chieftains?" asked Relma. She hadn''t known about this.


    "I know all of them," said Ajax. "And their ancestors too." Then he surged off into the woods and was gone with hardly a rustle. How had he disappeared so fast and so quickly? Relma wondered if he was coming back at all.


    Probably, she thought. She and Ajax had gotten on pretty well so far, and they seemed to be past the enemy stage. She liked him, and he liked her.


    "We''ll continue as planned for now," said Aunt Pan, frustratedly closing her eyes.


    "I''m surprised you aren''t telling me to go back to Gel Carn, Aunt Pan," said Relma, more for teasing than anything.


    Aunt Pan smiled. This time, it was warm, and she looked at Relma without the "You are growing up, Relma. And the safest place here is with me anyway. Lucius is not someone easily crossed."


    "Have you fought him before?" asked Relma.


    "I''ve met him," said Aunt Pan. "When I was just a girl."


    "So what was he like?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan looked afraid at the memory, something Relma had never seen from her before. "He never shows his face. He appears as a robed figure, and he is very courteous. There is no malice in him. Neither is there is any kindness.


    "I don''t know why he does what he does."


    "That doesn''t sound like a satyr god," said Relma. "Didn''t you work with satyrs in Khasmir, Estela?"


    "I did," said Estela. "They were everything I expected. Savage, vicious barbarians who lived for blood and death. They cared as little about each other''s lives as they did about ours."


    "It isn''t entirely their fault," said Aunt Pan. "They were formed for the purpose of kinslaying. It is tough for them to get beyond that."


    "Kinslaying?" asked Relma. "They were born to kill elves."


    "In a sense, the mothers and fathers of the races were brothers and sisters," said Aunt Pan. "In that sense, the satyrs were born to destroy their cousins."


    "That''s very weak," said Relma.


    "Whether it is or not, we should make camp here," said Estela, halting.


    "Why here?" asked Relma.


    Estela pointed up, and Relma saw the moon rising above them. "It is getting very dark. I don''t want to move at night. Lucius has more power, then. He is on good terms with the Moon Spirit."


    "I''ll take the first watch," said Relma.


    Aunt Pan drew several canteens from her bag and handed them to Relma. She took it in her hands. "You can start by getting some water from the river. Refill these, will you."


    "Oh right," said Relma.


    Turning, she made her way south toward the river. Coming to it, she kneeled down, opened up a canteen, and brought it down toward the river. But as she did, the river receded. When she brought it back up again, the river came back. Relma waded in and tried again, but it receded all the faster.


    "... That''s odd," said Relma.


    She turned away, whirled around, and tried again. But the river sank into the earth. With nothing else to do, Relma moved back to the road. "Aunt Pan, we''ve got a problem."


    "What is it?" asked Aunt Pan as she set up a fire.


    "I''m trying to fill the waterskins, but the river won''t let me," said Relma.


    Aunt Pan looked up. Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" Her voice was sharp. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Whenever I stoop down, it recedes," said Relma, unsure what to make of it. "Then, when I rise again, it comes back."


    "I see," said Aunt Pan before rising. "Let me handle this."


    And back they went to the river. There, Aunt Pan waded in, her dress floating around her as she kneeled in the river. Her hands caught the current. She closed her eyes. As she did, she seemed to reflect the sun''s waning light. The light of the moon also came forward.


    "Asacoth, is it?" she asked. "Would you care to explain why you are denying us water?"


    A figure cloaked in water appeared. Nothing could be made of his features, and the current seemed to flow over him or her. "Lucius instructed us to do so."


    "I wasn''t aware you took orders from him," said Aunt Pan.


    "He is of the first. His commands are law," said Asacoth.


    "He lost the right to command the lands when he murdered Evoria," said Aunt Pan.


    "So you say. But the dread of him is on every beast of the earth, air, and sea," said Asacoth. "He was granted power over us, and I shall not cross him."


    "I was granted power as well, Asacoth, and I remain in the god''s favor," said Aunt Pan. "Do not cross me over something so petty."


    ''It is not petty," said Asacoth. "Without water, you will die. Until the Heir of Kings is in Lucius'' grip, all the land shall be your enemy. The trees shall whisper your location to His servants. The wind shall whistle with your plans. And all the world shall seek your ruination."


    "Very poetic, Asacoth," said Aunt Pan. "You will deliver water to us. The Sorceress Pandora commands it!" And her will flow out across the stream. As it did, the water cloak seemed to flow in a gust. A hand was raised against her.


    "...I shall... not... yield..." said Asacoth.


    "You will," said Aunt Pan. "For my will and the gods will are the same."


    "Then your will is without focus..." shot back Asacoth.


    "Deliver unto us water. Now," hissed Aunt Pan.


    For a moment longer, there seemed a terrible strain. Then the water flowed out around Pan, leaving her clothes dry and rising into the air. "...So be it..." said Asacoth''s voice.


    Aunt Pan walked out, and the water returned to normal. Relma tried the waterskin again, and the water filled it in mere moments. She looked up to Aunt Pan. "What was that?"


    "I had forgotten," said Aunt Pan. "The first of the races had a natural affinity with the spirits of the land. They could command the trees to yield fruit, and they would. Still, Lucius has yet to make such commands for many years.


    "He must want you captured a great deal."


    They filled the waterskins and walked back. As they did, Relma reflected that she''d never seen Aunt Pan act so openly before. She''d always known she was powerful, and she''d been aware for years now that she was Pandora the Sorceress.


    But she never acted directly until now.


    "So what took you?" asked Estela as they came back.


    "We''re going to have a long road ahead of us, Estela," said Aunt Pan, looking tired.


    Things had just gotten interesting.


    But then, interesting was not a good thing. It meant that Relma and Estela were going to have a lot of work to do. And they''d had plenty of that on this journey already.


    Even so, Relma intended to do all she could to help Estela.

 Chapter Four: The Spirits Quest

    The castle of Lord Anias was a little unimpressive after all they''d gone through.


    The walls were lower than Gel Carn and of a dark gray color. The towers were thicker, and the whole thing was made from large stones. Though the mortar was crumbling, there were scars on the stone. It looked like it had been attacked by arrowheads and stones many times, and there were also signs of burning. Relma guessed these were where attacks had been launched. No wonder Aunt Pan had broken off from the group to pursue another matter.


    Aunt Pan had never liked violence or power of any kind. It was an odd quirk she had. She wanted the best for Relma but had different ideas of what that was. Aunt Pan had always felt power was a curse that no one ought to desire. Relma, though, wanted power to help others. So Aunt Pan had been teaching her at last, and she''d had to work harder than ever.


    There was so much Relma did not know. She had to catch up on so much because of Aunt Pan''s sheltering. And Relma could not quite find it in herself to not hold a grudge about being held back by it all. Though she knew that wasn''t entirely fair. Estela had told enough stories about the Escorian Civil War to know Aunt Pan had a point.


    Power could corrupt.


    Relma remembered her lessons beneath a beating sun as she walked within the castle''s shadow. The Black Marshes, which she could see in the distance over the fields, were home to many satyr tribes. They had been enemies of Gel Carn for centuries and fought many battles. Relma''s own father had fought in them and been a hero.


    Flies were out in force, and she felt sweat dripping down her brow from days of travel. The journey had been uneventful. However, she had seen many farmlands here and noticed the people were unhappy. The water receding had made it all the worse, and getting any at all was very difficult. They were perpetually parched and sore from the journey, and Relma was sick of it.


    But there were no satyrs within sight of the farmlands today. The village was bustling, but they were given a distrustful eye as they walked. When they finally reached the large, two-story inn, Reginald went out to meet them. He was a tall, lean man with orange hair and a crooked smile. At his side was a sword with the serrated style that the De Chevlons preferred.


    "Estela, there you are," said Reginald. "It took you long enough."


    "We had one or two delays," said Estela. "Where are the others?"


    "Varsus is reading in the inn," said Raynald, motioning. "His men are drilling in the militia training yard. Though the locals weren''t happy about the fact."


    "Why did he even need to stay at the inn?" asked Relma. "Couldn''t he request shelter from Lord Anias?"


    "Lord Anias is not what you could call a pleasant companion at the best times," said Reginald. "Varsus decided it would be best to stay at the inn."


    "Well then, where did he get the books?" asked Estela.


    Reginald shrugged in a long-suffering way. "He brought his own."


    "Who takes books on long journeys?" asked Estela. "Especially to a place like this."


    "Varsus does," said Reginald with a shrug. "They''re enchanted against the elements, obviously. He paid a lot of money for that."


    "So what are you doing out here, Reginald?" asked Estela.


    "Watching for you," said Reginald. "Where''s the half-demon?"


    "Quarter demon," said Relma.


    "What?" said Reginald.


    "Ajax is a quarter demon," said Relma. "A quarter wolf and half... well, I''m not sure if he''s half-human. I think he is. But he might be half something else." Estela looked at her, and Relma felt self-conscious under her gaze. Estela was beautiful, and Relma did not like that kind of look of disapproval. "Did I get it right?"


    "Relma," said Estela.


    "Oh, sorry. I uh... forgot I''m not supposed to speak," said Relma. Oh, right, she was a squire, not a knight. She''d gotten used to adventuring as an equal with Estela when she and Ronald came to rescue her from Ajax. Relma had almost been the leader then, so being outranked now was odd.


    Especially since Relma was the highest-ranking person here. Even if Estela would never admit it. What was so important about rank anyway?


    Reginald sighed. "Fine, where is Ajax?"


    "He went on ahead," said Estela. "It turns out these satyrs who have been mustering are taking orders from Lucius. The father of all humans and satyrs. He wants to see what it''s all about."


    "Right, of course," said Reginald. "I''m fairly certain satyrs and humans are a different race. And their fathers are long dead."


    "Well, how do you explain this?" asked Estela before walking over to the well. Plunging the bucket into it, she drew it out and raised it. Turning it over, nothing came out.


    Reginald blinked. "...You pulled a bucket out of a well. Is that supposed to prove something?"


    "No, it''s not the bucket," said Estela. "I lowered it down into the well, but the water receded as soon as I did. We''ve been putting up with it for days now."


    "I don''t buy it," said Reginald. Then he lowered the bucket, drew it out, and poured the water back in. "See, I just got the water easily."


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    "I know!" said Estela. "It just happens to us! Lucius has turned the spirits against us."


    "Well, Relma''s the Heir of Kings, isn''t she?" asked Reginald. "Can''t she just ask them to help her?"


    "That isn''t an option, Reginald," said Varsus, coming out of the inn. He was taller than Reginald, with blonde half to halfway down his neck. He was clad in white and bore only a dagger.


    "Varsus, I see you''ve gotten out of the study," said Reginald. "Why isn''t it an option?"


    "The Heir of Kings has inherited an affinity with the spirits of the land," said Varsus with a shrug. "One that has been passed down to them through their descendant, Anoa the Bright. Anoa gained the allegiance of the various spirits through his deeds in their honor.


    "That was one of the reasons Harlenor was so prosperous under his reign and that of his descendants."


    "Cut to the chase; this book lore doesn''t interest me," said Reginald.


    "The chase, so to speak, is that Lucius has similar authority," said Varsus. "But Lucius'' authority was given to him at the beginning of all races. Anoa''s was gifted far later in light of services rendered. Lucius'' authority thus trumps that of Anoa''s. Much less Anoa''s heir.


    It''s the difference between loyalty to a friend and a king."


    "Someone can rebel against a king when he''s wrong, though," said Estela. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "A just point," said Varsus. "It isn''t a perfect metaphor. I''m certain Lady Pandora could tell you more."


    "I could," said Aunt Pan, reappearing. "Though I am surprised at how well you grasp the subject, Varsus.


    "You are right, Relma. The spirits could rebel against Lucius'' authority. In fact, they have in the past. However, he is immensely powerful, and they fear him. If Anoa the Bright himself were to ask for their aid, they would probably defy Lucius. In fact, that is part of the reason I broke off from the group.


    "However, you are largely unproven. Only your bloodline gives you authority."


    "Well, how am I supposed to prove myself to all these spirits?" asked Relma.


    "It took Anoa the Bright decades," said Aunt Pan. "And he did things to get it, which haunted him long after."


    "Look, are we calling this quest off or what?" asked Reginald.


    "No, we''re still going through," said Estela. "The money I won from the tournament needs to get to Escor, and I''m not giving up, whatever the opposition.


    "Of course, until Ajax gets back, we can''t go anywhere. He''s our guide."


    "Well then, we have time for a drink," said Reginald. "I don''t suppose you''d use some of your winnings-"


    "No," said Estela.


    "But there is plenty," said Reginald.


    "And I want it to stay that way," shot back Estela.


    "Fine, do you want to get a drink with some money that isn''t destined for Escor''s coffers?" asked Reginald.


    "Why not?" asked Estela, hoisting her pack. Relma had wanted to take some of the weight, but Estela had insisted on carrying her winnings. No one else could touch them.


    "While you are doing that, I will commune with the spirits," said Aunt Pan. "Come with me, Relma."


    "Why can''t I go with them?" asked Relma.


    "You will need to learn to commune with spirits sooner or later," said Aunt Pan, leading her away. "It would be better if you started now."


    "Alright," said Relma. Then she paused and quickly ran up to Varsus. "Wait, where is Fayn? I heard she was doing mercenary work in this region."


    "Oh, she went scouting in the marshes two days ago," said Reginald. "Some quest or other for Lord Anias. I told her it was stupid, but she didn''t listen."


    "Is she alright?" asked Relma.


    "How should I know?" asked Reginald. "If you go into those swamps and die, no one ever finds your body."


    "Now, Relma," said Aunt Pan.


    Relma followed. She could hardly complain about having lessons now.


    Aunt Pan led Relma to the outskirts of the village and made for a hill. At the top was a series of standing stones with a table at the center. Three circles of smaller stones were around, and Relma nearly tripped over one. All of them were covered in green moss, and a buzzing was in the air. This was a place of power. And it was at the very border of the swamp, Relma could smell the stagnant water.


    "What is this place?" asked Relma.


    "An ancient shrine to spirits," said Aunt Pan. "One of few remaining. Many were torn down by an old Stewardess of Gel Carn."


    "Now, Relma, the first thing you need to understand is this: Spirits cannot be controlled," said Aunt Pan. "Some sorcerers, like Rusara, believe in dominating their wills to bend them to your own. However, such relationships are always unstable.


    "They rarely last.


    "I prefer to speak with the spirits and establish a dialogue of sorts," said Aunt Pan. "All spirits want something. Fire spirits want to consume the world around them. Water spirits desire to flow swiftly and without stagnation.


    "What spirits desire is based largely on what the spirit comes from."


    "So how are they different from demons and angels?" asked Relma.


    "Spirits have their source in this world," said Aunt Pan. "Demons and angels have their source in the world beyond."


    "So does that mean demons and angels are the same?" asked Relma.


    "That is a difficult question," said Aunt Pan. "It would be more accurate to say that they are opposite sides of the same coin. Angels define themselves in service to divine law. Demons define themselves by their opposition to that same law. Or at least that would have been the case at the beginning of things."


    "What changed?" asked Relma.


    "Hell came under new management," said Aunt Pan. "Elranor engineered a rebellion that saw the Demon King, Diabolus, overthrown. His spirit was cut into seven pieces and stored within seven gem shards worldwide.


    "His children, the Seven Demonic Archons, then began ordering things as they saw fit.


    Baltoth, Lord of Pride, sought to rule over mortals and use them to bring his dominion to bear over all the worlds. To that end, he overthrew Valranor, the God of Order, and took his domain.


    "Lucius was one of the Demonic Archons, having been invested with the domain of Envy rather than born of it. He has created all manner of undead creatures. They feed on the living and seek to tear down what others have built.


    "Zigildrazia, the Lady of Sloth, began forging machines and tools. Coinfurth forged coinage and began establishing merchant domains throughout the world.


    "Fortenex, Lord of Wrath, delighted in sewing discord among the mortal races. Eventually, he merged his power with the dead god, Kreshlak. Then there was Amysta, Lady of Lust, who married Fortenex. Together, they sewed discord among mortals, tempting them to sin. At least until Zigildrazia killed her sister and took her domain."


    "So the Lady of Sloth works in a forge?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said Aunt Pan. "Zigildrazia is perhaps the greatest forger in all the worlds. Rivaled only by Barden and Vrengar of the Dragon Empire."


    Relma frowned. "...How does that fit her domain?"


    "Well, if you think about it, the purpose of tools is to make work easier," said Aunt Pan. "And require less effort. So she expends some effort now to do less later."


    "And overthrowing her sister?" asked Relma.


    "Being able to seduce people lets you get them to do things for you," said Aunt Pan. "Or so I assume."


    "This doesn''t seem very consistent," said Relma.


    Aunt Pan smiled. "Well, hypocrisy is a sin.


    "Last of all, there is Typhos, the Archon of Gluttony. From her came forth all the monsters of the world. And it was she who sewed chaos into strands of fate.


    "The point is that the demons these days have become pragmatic. They realize that a policy of pure evil will lead to their inevitable defeat. So they are far more pragmatic about things."


    "So why do you hate them?" asked Relma.


    "Because it''s a front," said Aunt Pan. "Yes, they behave moderately better than the old demons. But at their uttermost source, they live to spread wickedness and destruction. No matter how many deals they honor, their objective has stayed the same.


    "Father and I go out of our way to cut them out of the loop."


    "You made a deal with Telix," noted Relma.


    "Yes, but Telix is half spirit," said Aunt Pan. "And his children are even less than that. Sometimes, you have to compromise your principles to avert greater destruction. This was one such time.


    "Either way, we should begin to commune with the spirit of the swamp."


    "So, is there a ritual?" asked Relma.


    "Don''t be silly," said Aunt Pan before looking toward the swamp and standing tall. "Hello, Ranush; it has been a long time, hasn''t it?''


    The swamp''s water shifted into the shape of a lion''s head. It rose out of the water and eyed them carefully. Then it spoke; its voice was the gurgling of a stream and the flowing of a brook.


    "That it has, Pandora. Yet we have been cast as enemies in the games of gods."


    "May I ask why?" asked Aunt Pan. "I do not wish to be your enemy."


    "Lucius has commanded it," said Ranush. "And I dare not cross him. He has given orders. I will plague her companions should the Heir of Kings cross the Black Marshes. I shall do so with diseases that she might be taken easily."


    "The Heir of Kings stands before you," said Aunt Pan. "Did you not make an oath to Anoa the Bright?"


    "I did," said Ranush. "But that was long ago. And I also have an oath to Lucius, whom I fear more."


    "Ranush, I must cross the Black Marshes," said Aunt Pan.


    "Then I must stop you," replied Ranush.


    "Can I prove myself?" asked Relma.


    "What?" said Ranush.


    "Lord Ranush, I am Relma Artorious, Heir of Kings," said Relma. "I wish to prove myself worthy of your trust. Set me a task, and I will see it done."


    Ranush remained silent for a moment, and at last, he spoke. "Very well. There is a part of these marshes where my waters have become stagnant. The water no longer flows. Break that which blocks it, and I shall let you pass."


    Then, the water faded and returned to normal. Aunt Pan looked to Relma. "Well done, Relma."


    "I thought you''d be upset for me speaking out of turn," said Relma in surprise.


    "Spirits don''t respond well to people doing things because they were told to," said Aunt Pan. "If you make them an offer of your own will, it means much more.


    "Now, we ought to finish this quickly."


    "We''re going right now?" asked Relma.


    "Of course," said Aunt Pan. "I want to head through the Black Marshes soon. And we can''t wait for tomorrow."


    So they were off.


    At last.

 Chapter Five: Vengeance and Restitution

    As they began their journey into the stagnant water, Relma had a thought. One that Estela would have considered ahead of time. But then, Relma could have been better at this than Ronald or Estela, was she? "Shouldn''t we bring the poles Estela had me get? You know, to, um, check for places where things are too deep? I mean, we could fall into a bog."


    Aunt Pan looked up in surprise. Then she shook her head before leading her in a circle around what looked like a walkable piece of ground. Kneeling down, she drew up a stone from the wet earth and dropped it into the earth. The stone sank like.... well, a stone in water. It was gone in a moment, and apparently, firm ground rippled. "Not at the moment. I can sense we''re only going a little way in."


    "What makes you so sure where it is?" asked Relma. She knew Aunt Pan was a legendary agent of Elranor, but the question couldn''t hurt.


    "Ranush is leading me," said Aunt Pan. "When you speak with spirits enough, you learn to know their minds. You see, spirits do not exist in one body; their being is dispersed throughout an area. He is all around us, and I can communicate with him.


    "What you heard before at the pool was him shouting."


    "Shouting?" asked Relma.


    "Yes, spirits have to exert great effort to speak with the untrained," said Aunt Pan.


    And so they walked onward. As they did, what passed for firm ground became soaked and ankle-deep in the water. Gradually, it got deeper until Relma was up to her thighs. She wished she were tall like Aunt Pan, but no such luck.


    Her luck held out as soon flies began to gather around them. Relma hated it and tried to beat them off by killing them. It was all about threatening motions that didn''t actually connect. Once, Relma nearly hit a fly and had to veer her hand off. After that the flies were relentless. Aunt Pan, as usual, just kept on walking while ignoring them.


    Soon, they saw many red and white flowers growing in the water. And the flies stopped as they did. It was a welcome relief, and the air soon became sweet and cool, and Relma breathed in relief. Then, suddenly, Aunt Pan stopped and raised a hand. "Stop."


    "What is it?" asked Relma, looking ahead.


    She only saw a lake of white and red flowers budding before them. A sweet aroma was in the air, and there were no flies around them. The ground got firmer, too, as though the water was absorbed. But Aunt Pan''s face was stern. "Ahead of us is one of the most dangerous creatures in the world."


    "I don''t see anything," said Relma.


    "The flowers," said Aunt Pan.


    "What about them?" asked Relma.


    "They emit pollen that clouds the mind," said Aunt Pan. "As you walk among them, they enchant you. Strange, usually, they only grow in places where spirits are powerful."


    "We spoke with Ranush, didn''t we?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said Aunt Pan. "Spirits are everywhere. But in some places, certain kinds of spirits gain more power. Come, we''ll go around."


    "What would happen if we went in?" asked Relma.


    "You might be enchanted," said Aunt Pan. "If you were alone, then the flowers would cover you up. Their thorns would tear you until you were nothing more than bones."


    Relma shuddered. "Well, then... maybe we should do something about these?"


    "And what would you suggest?" asked Aunt Pan. "Burn them? These flowers are not evil; they merely live by eating meat. One might as well kill all the wolves in the world because they eat sheep. Or dry up all the seas because men can drown within them.


    "It is always better to work within the system rather than destroy-" S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And then there was a flaring of white, and they were thrown off their feet into the mud. A huge inferno rose up beside them, and the flowers screamed. Their vines whipped in the air as heat washed against Relma''s face.


    Maniacal laughter sounded as the flames burned higher and higher as they rose. Then, out of the flames, walked Fayn, clad in her black armor. The silver-haired girl''s face was hidden behind a helmet. She was spinning a new poleaxe that was flaming. With each rotation, more fire surged from it. Thorned vines lashed out at her, only to be burned away. The flowers seemed to scramble away, seeking to escape the flames.


    "Fayn?! What is she doing here?" asked Relma, unsure of what was happening.


    "Unravelling several hundred years of spiritual diplomacy, it seems," said Aunt Pan.


    "Cin''Dar, stop this at once! I command it!"


    "I burn at the will of no creature save Anoa the Bright and is Heirs!" cried the fire spirit. "I consume what I will, and none may command me otherwise!"


    "Cin''Dar, could you please stop burning those flowers?" asked Relma.


    Cin''dar paused. "So be it."


    "Why did you stop?" asked Fayn, coming out. Then she saw Relma and sighed in a disappointed tone Relma didn''t think was appropriate. Last time they''d met, Relma had nearly lost her own life saving Fayn from the consequences of her actions. A little respect would be nice from the silver-haired girl. "Oh, you."


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    "Fayn, what are you doing here?" asked Relma.


    "I''m doing knight-errantry on behalf of Lord Anias," said Fayn.


    "By setting fire to the trees?" asked Relma.


    "No, the flowers," said Fayn, looking regretfully at the dying fire as she drew off her helm. "Yes. Some of the villagers have gone missing when they walk into this region. Village children make money collecting blood moss for the healers. A sweet smell lured them deep into the woods, and they were never seen again. Or so some of their companions said."


    "You foolish girl! Do you know what you''ve done?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "Burned up a man-eating plant?" asked Fayn.


    "A man-eating plant was allowed to grow here by the spirits," said Aunt Pan. "Those flowers are very good at making friends."


    "I''ll burn them too," said Fayn. "I don''t mind starting a larger fire. Besides, look over there."


    As the flames died out, Relma saw something. There were bones beneath the water. Thousands upon thousands of bones. Animals, satyrs, humans, and dwarves. "How many people is that?"


    "I''d say hundreds," said Fayn. "Built up over centuries. Satyrs. Men. Women. Children. Of course, it''s a lot more than that. There are other flowers in this place I need to take care of.


    "So yeah, I don''t feel bad about burning this place.


    "What are you doing here?"


    "We''re trying to undo the blockage that has made a stream stop flowing," said Relma.


    "Cute," said Fayn. "No doubt tales shall be sung of your epic tail of dam breaking."


    And then the trees began to twist and groan. The air warped as the roots began to shift and come toward them as the water deepened.


    "The trees are moving," said Relma.


    "They are calling for vengeance," said Aunt Pan. "The flowers were dear to them."


    "Well then, Cin''dar, what do you say we make an example of these?" asked Fayn.


    "So we shall," said Cin''dar. "Thus shall the ashes of this forest be spread worldwide! The rumor of their fate is known to all."


    The battle was about to begin again.


    "Hold where you are!" said Aunt Pan. "I am the Sorceress Pandora! I want to create a parley between the spirits of nature and the realm of Gel Carn!"


    "You''re joking," said Fayn.


    The closing forces shifted and halted. Eventually, many whispers came to them, forming into a singular voice. "Speak your terms."


    "They are not my terms to give," said Pandora. "Fayn is acting in the interests of her people, even if she enjoyed it more than she should have. These flowers behaved aggressively and killed humans. That was why the humans sent Fayn against them."


    "Human children," said Fayn.


    "If you all move against Fayn now and kill her, it will only cause further violence. Humans and satyrs alike will begin to hack down trees for safety. There will be a great war, and both sides will suffer terrible losses.


    "It is my desire, as the representative of the Heir of Kings, that peace is reached between you. And I expect you to make one that will benefit both parties."


    "I am in no hurry to consume this miserable world," said Cin''dar. "I will speak with the spirits of this realm."


    "Excellent," said Pandora. "I will oversee the negotiations and ensure they are in good faith.


    "Ranush, I need you to lead Relma to the source of your problem."


    Ranush appeared in the water. "So be it. Follow me."


    Relma followed Ranush as quickly and quietly as she could. This was her task now. Did Aunt Pan think she could do this on her own? Well, yes, she sent her, but Relma was worried. What if there was some kind of dragon she had to slay. Or an evil demon in need of appeasement.


    And then she got to it and saw a dam blocking off a stream. It was a vast, muddy dam. More significant than any she or Ronald had seen. And Relma realized she''d have to take the thing apart herself. She''d almost have preferred a dragon. "Well, that is... a lot worse than I expected."


    "A group of beavers built it, and even now, it is stagnating my waters," said Ranush.


    "Even if I clear this thing out, the beaver will only rebuild it, won''t they?" asked Relma.


    "It was killed by satyr hunters. They sell the pelts," said Ranush, voice satisfied.


    "Oh, right," said Relma. "Well, that''s good. I don''t like killing animals." Then she went over to it and looked at the thing made from sticks and mud. She grabbed one of the sticks and tried to dislodge it but only got her hands muddy. "Now, how can I clear this out without any tools? I supposed I could use my sword. I doubt Lightning Trail will get damaged from sticks,"


    Relma drew out Lightning Trail and brought it down. She''d been hoping for a flash of lightning and a broken dam. Unfortunately, the sword seemed resentful, and Relma didn''t blame it. She''d be resentful, too. So she began trying to find a stick she could pry out. But the beaver had gone to a great deal of trouble to make all the sticks overlap. They all reinforced each other. She had to work at it for quite a while before she found something she could pull out. Eventually, she got the first stick out and moved on to the next and the next, prying them out with her sword. It was miserable, hot, and horrible work.


    Relma had to work at it for hours, yet no matter how many sticks she pulled out, there always seemed to be more. She hardly seemed to be making any difference as she removed one after another. Privately, she wondered if this was actually something Ranush needed her to do.


    Was this a secret test? Was Ranush trying to see if she was serious about things? It seemed at least likely, and Relma worked all the harder. Stick after stick was removed as the light began to die. Her limbs ached, and her hands were filthy, but she made progress.


    At long last, she succeeded in breaking a hole in the dam. The stream began to flow in, dislodging more of them. But she still had to work at it; now, things were muddier.


    "It is done," said Ranush at last.


    That was the last thing Relma heard from him. He didn''t even say thank you. When she finally limped back to Aunt Pan and Fayn, she was covered in mud, sick of it all, and in a bad mood.


    "Hello, Relma," said Fayn, sharpening her poleaxe. "Why are you covered in mud?"


    "I had to clear out a beaver''s dam with nothing but my sword and hands," said Relma. "It wasn''t exactly fun. How did the negotiations go?"


    "As well as could be hoped," said Aunt Pan, walking back.


    "So, badly then?" asked Relma.


    "No," admitted Aunt Pan. "I think I managed to negotiate things."


    "So what did they decide on?" asked Relma.


    "The flowers hunting humans and Fayn burning them are equal vengeance," said Aunt Pan.


    "Both have agreed not to hunt the other.


    "The war is over. Peace is restored. Honor is satisfied."


    "It was that easy?" asked Relma.


    "Cin''Dar is a greatly feared spirit," said Aunt Pan. "With good reason. And Fayn''s assault was not without justification. The fact that you helped Ranush was what sealed things. When a single stream is dammed up, it can negatively influence entire swaths of forest.


    "Your actions have thus been of great service to all of them.


    "It is a combination of fear and love that served me well, with the respect I have earned.


    "I have also convinced the spirits of the Black Marshes to remain neutral in our conflict with Lucius. Well done.


    "It was nothing," said Relma.


    "Glad to hear it," said Fayn with a yawn. "Can we go back now? The last thing I wanted to do was spend the rest of the day in a swamp."


    Relma couldn''t agree more with that. Though at least the flowers and flames had been pretty.

 Chapter Six: Lord Anias

    The three of them returned to the village and found it pitch black when they got to the inn. The lights in the main room were on, and the door was open. Within the common room, they found Estela and Reginald speaking. Reginald was sitting in a corner reading, his blonde hair tied behind his head. Relma didn''t think this was a good place to read; it was a terrible place.


    Books were worth a fortune. Why was Reginald doing this?


    "You are both late," said Reginald, sounding a little annoyed. "Varsus and I have been waiting."


    "I apologize, Reginald," said Aunt Pan. "Relma and I found ourselves with some unforeseen business. Still, I believe I have dealt with the spirits."


    "And what about you, Fayn?" asked Reginald.


    "I had to negotiate with some spirits of the land," muttered Fayn. "It was like ending the war, only less attractive.


    "So, are we ready to go tomorrow?"


    "Not yet," said Reginald. "Varsus is waiting for a letter."


    "About what?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "He''s been in communication with Frederick and De Cathe," said Frederick. "The two of them have been watching the movements of the satyrs. And we still haven''t seen any sign of Ajax."


    "It''s not like Ajax to be late," said Varsus. "At least not when it is not fashionable."


    "He did say that he intended to speak with the satyr chieftains," said Estela.


    "What do we do if he doesn''t show up?" asked Fayn.


    "We''ll have to go all the way around," said Estela. "I''m not risking the Black Marshes without a guide."


    "That is wise," said Aunt Pan. "Still, I will find our errant wolf. I have spoken with the birds. They will come to me with any news of Ajax."


    "What do we do in the meantime?" asked Reginald.


    "I leave what you do to Estela," said Aunt Pan. "For my part, I will ply my trade as a runeswoman." And she walked out.


    Relma sat down next to Estela, who seemed brooding over something. She looked to Reginald, who paused. "Okay, Estela, what should we do?"


    Estela took a drink and sighed bitterly. "We should present ourselves to the Lord. I should have done it before, but we ended up drinking heavily.


    "You didn''t use any of the money from your winnings, did you?" asked Relma.


    "Of course not," said Estela. "It''s sealed tight. I had Lady Pandora make it so it could only be opened within the castle of Carn Ganus¡ªthe capital.


    "Someone tried to steal some of it in the bar. He got his hands burned."


    "Where is he now?" asked Relma, wondering if she could help.


    "In prison, I think," said Estela. "They were planning to hang him for theft. But I told them to let the matter pass. He was just a boy, about twelve or so.


    "Nothing insidious."


    "I think I''d like to heal him," said Relma.


    "Do it if you want," said Estela. "You''ll have to get permission to meet him from the Lord. Fortunately, we''re heading that way, to begin with."


    "The Lord is, um... I''ll come to it," said Relma.


    "Lord Anias Culhorn," said Varsus from one side as he turned a page. "He reigns over this village; we''ll need his blessing." He glanced at his guards. "Officially, of course."


    "I''m already on my way there," said Fayn. "Or I would have been if you hadn''t gotten me sidetracked. He was the one who asked me to hunt down the flowers and the one who knighted me. I''ll have to tell him about my results.


    "He''ll owe me a lot of silver." She paused. "Though I may as well let it wait until tomorrow at this rate."


    Relma slept easily that night and awoke the next morning, much refreshed and immediately set everything up for Estela. Preparing themselves for the day, she and Estela made their way down into the common room. Fayn was there, drinking with a bitter look on her face. Relma approached from behind. "Fayn, you''re up."


    "Yes, I am, and I was just about to head to Lord Anias," said Fayn. "I wouldn''t expect a nice welcome, though. He isn''t what you can call the pleasant company."


    "I enjoy your company," said Estela. "I''m sure I can enjoy his."


    "That''s the closest you''ve come to a decent retort since I''ve known you," said Fayn.


    After breakfast, they got together their things and made their way out toward the castle. The air was fresh and breezy, though the wind brought some swamp smells in. Clouds partially covered the sun, and Relma enjoyed the weather.


    "So, Relma, what took you so long last night?" asked Estela.


    "I had to break up a beaver dam," said Relma.


    Estela blinked. "...And how did Fayn fit into that?"


    "I didn''t," said Fayn. "Pandora messed up my plan on the way to it."


    "You were about to get attacked by tree spirits," said Relma.


    "Yeah, and once I destroyed them, that would be it," said Fayn.


    "It could have alienated the spirits of this entire region," said Relma. "This way, peace is restored, and we don''t have to worry about them siding with the satyrs."


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    "Whatever you say," said Fayn.


    "Estela," said Relma, "why does everyone seem to distrust Lord Anias?"


    "Anias is swine," said Estela.


    "That''s a little harsh," said Relma. "You haven''t even met him."


    "Daylight is harsh," said Estela. "That doesn''t make what it illuminates any less true. His family had pledged loyalty to House Vortegex, but they abandoned us when we needed them most. The lot of them were driven out like the vipers they were when we came to power.


    "We don''t trust their kind anymore."


    On they marched until they came before the gates of the castle. Here, Estela raised a hand to knock but hesitated. Then Fayn moved forward and slammed her hand on the door several times. A slot slid aside to reveal a pair of sunken eyes. "Yes, what is it?"


    "I am Fayn Lancel, returned from my mission," said Fayn. "Those with me are Lady Estela and her squire, Relma. They seek to meet with Lord Anias."


    The eyes peered over them. "...One moment." The slot slid closed, and there was silence. A sound of unbolting followed, and then a door was drawn open. Behind it was a thin, short man wearing green robes. He rubbed his hands together as he looked out. "I am Asus, Lord Anias conjurer. Lord Anias has agreed to see you." Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "How good of him-" began Fayn before Asus raised a hand.


    "Not you," said Asus. "Just the Lady Estela and her retinue."


    "What?" said Fayn.


    Asus looked somewhat apologetic. "Those were his orders."


    "I have done the job he asked me to do, and he means to keep me waiting out here?" asked Fayn.


    "Lord Anias does not like to meet with more than one person at a time," said Asus.


    "Then give me my damn payment so I can go!" snapped Fayn.


    "Lord Anias pays his servants directly," said Asus.


    "Servant I-" Fayn began before giving up. "Nevermind. I''ll wait."


    Asus turned to Estela and Relma. He led them into a guard room beyond where men stood watching. "You two may follow me. However, you will have to leave your weapons in this room."


    "To what end?" asked Estela. "I am no enemy. I am here with the leave of Benarus."


    "Lord Anias doesn''t meet with people with weapons," said Asus. "You will also have to leave that chest there."


    Estela looked at the chest on her back and narrowed her eyes. "This is precious cargo. And I do not intend to let it out of my sight."


    "It will be perfectly safe here," said Asus.


    Estela didn''t look like she believed him. Relma thought for sure she''d turn around and walk out. But finally, she unslung the chest, and it landed with a clang. "...Very well. However, the contents of the chest are mine. If they should be lost or stolen, the one responsible will regret it."


    Asus turned to Relma, who realized she was carrying Lightning Trail at her side. Drawing it out, she looked over the marvelous blade. Parting with it seemed wrong, a violation of a kind and Relma did not like it one bit. "I... I don''t want to just put Lightning Trail aside like this."


    "It is but a sword," said Asus. "And it will be returned to you when you leave."


    Relma did not believe him. "Estela, we should go."


    "Will you insult Lord Anias'' hospitality without even speaking with him?" asked Asus.


    "Just do it, Relma," said Estela with a sigh. "No one is going to be able to take Lightning Trail. Elranor himself gave you that sword."


    Relma handed it over reluctantly. Then Asus took a torch from the wall and led them away through the halls. It was dark in this place, and the only natural light came from arrowslits. The walls and floor were of rough stone, and it was clammy. But now and again, they would come to intricate, ornate weapons that were remarkable in one way or another.


    There was a veritable collection in this place.


    At last, they came to a room with many rich ornaments on the walls. Swords and axes, shields, and spears. An old man was sitting at a desk, bent over and writing. As they came in, he sat up and smiled. "Ah, the Heir of Kings and her companions. Thank you for bringing them this far Asus. As always, you''ve been a great help."


    "It is no trouble, milord," said Asus. "I''ll leave you in peace."


    "Of course," said Anias. The door shut as Asus left, and they were alone. The old man clasped his hands together as he eyed Relma. "Now. How nice of you to visit me."


    "Relma is my squire," said Estela.


    "Very nice indeed," said Ania, not sparing Estela a glance. "Would you care for some wine?"


    Relma said nothing.


    "Yes, thank you," said Estela flatly.


    "Then please, have a seat," said Anias, seemingly annoyed.


    Both of them sat down as Anias poured out several glasses and passed one to each of them. He then poured himself one and drank from it. Estela did as well, while Relma tasted it and found it a bit strong for her tastes. "This is one of my more memorable brands ¡ª a very old and distinguished beverage. I''m something of a collector. Of wine, and many other things at that."


    "What else do you collect?" asked Relma before she could stop herself.


    "I''ve always had a particular fascination with weapons. Both decorative and practical," said Anias. "I remember young Fayn''s father gave me several unique foreign blades.


    "Now, I believe I ought to know just what it is you fine ladies are doing here?"


    "Was word not brought from Benarus?" asked Estela.


    "It was, but I''d like to hear it from you all the same," said Anias.


    "We have been planning to move through your lands on my way home to Escor," said Estela. "I thought we should present ourselves to you first."


    Anias nodded in a sagelike fashion. "Hmm, very interesting. Very interesting, indeed. I was told that you were returning home with some allies. And I guess you are bringing your winnings back with you."


    "I''m not certain that is relevant," said Estela.


    "A fair point," said Anias. "No doubt, the Kingdom of Escor has war plans."


    "Of one kind or another, yes," said Estela. "We aren''t seeking it, but it''s coming to us. The money will be very helpful there."


    "I see," said Anias. "And why is the Heir of Kings going with you? Surely so illustrious a name need not humble itself to playing squire."


    "Every knight needs to play squire at one point," said Estela.


    Anias smiled. "Once again, a fair point.


    "Now, let''s discuss the matter of price.


    "Price?" asked Estela.


    "Yes. After all, you are walking through my lands," said Anias. "Domains my family has ruled for generations. I think it only fair that I will be compensated for the trouble."


    "I have authorization from the Steward himself," said Estela.


    "Do you?" asked Anias, hands clasping together. "That is strange, for the letters I read seemed somewhat suspicious. I''ll need to get experts to confirm that the contents are indeed his handwriting. And that his seals are correct.


    "Until that time, I''ll offer you both my hospitality.


    "Of course, it could be a very long delay. Days, even weeks. And all sorts of unfortunate things might happen in Escor during that time."


    "Are you threatening us?" asked Estela.


    "No, merely inconveniencing you," said Anias with a friendly smile.


    "What do you want?" asked Estela. "A share of the profits?"


    Anias'' smile widened. "Nothing so petty, no. I want Lightning Trail."


    A silence that seemed to stretch into eternity fell over them.


    "What?" said Estela.


    Anias shrugged. "It is a remarkable antique, something that is ages old. I think it would look good on my wall."


    "I can''t give you that," said Relma. "It isn''t mine to give."


    "Are you not the Heir of Kings?" asked Anias. "And therefore, doesn''t it belong to you?"


    "No!" said Relma. "It was entrusted to me by Elranor! But I can''t just give it away!"


    "It is only a sword," said Anias. "The magic put into it is outdated by now anyway. One could get the same effect with any shiny piece of metal.


    "In fact, I''d gladly provide you with a duplicate."


    "I told you, I can''t give it up!" said Relma, horrified at the idea. "And I wouldn''t even if I could!"


    Anias paused. "I see.


    "That is most unfortunate. If you are unwilling to cooperate, there will likely be a lengthy delay." He looked to the door. "Asus. Just in time. Please let dear Fayn in. We have much to discuss. Excuse me for a moment." Then he motioned to his guards. "Escort these ladies to a cell, if you would."


    Estela reached for her sword, but there was a flash, and Relma remembered nothing else.

 Chapter Seven: What They Deserved

    Later, Relma paced restlessly within the cell as she thought about what to do. At least it was fairly large, with rough stone walls and straw on the floor. There was one window with bars, and one could see the branches of a tree out it. Estela sat at the far end, arms crossed and hair falling in front of one eye. The silence lasted until; finally, Estela sighed and looked up. "You should just give him the sword."


    "What?" said Relma. "How can you say that?"


    "Oh, come off it, Relma!" said Estela. "You''re a terrible fighter. You''ve lost just about every fight you''ve ever been in."


    "I defeated Ham Hawthorne in the Tournament of Kings," said Relma defensively.


    "He was angry, half-drunk, and overconfident," said Estela. "And he still almost crushed you." Estela had a point. But it was a point that was aimed completely off the mark. "Well, I don''t see what it has to do with not giving up the symbol of Harlenor Reunited to Anias."


    "Do you really think the Lords of Gel Carn are going to tolerate this?" asked Estela. "We can just come back later with an army and take it back."


    Assuming such an army could be gathered. And it would still be a breach of trust. "Lightning Trail is a symbol, Estela. If I hand that symbol over to Anias, I am handing over everything it represents. And anyway, Elranor wouldn''t approve."


    Estela stood up and brushed the hair out of her face. "Have you talked to him about this?"


    "No, but it seems the sort of thing he would disapprove of," said Relma. "Though I suppose I might be wrong. I should pray.


    "What are you even worried about?"


    "We''re prisoners, Relma," said Estela as if that made things obvious.


    "We''re prisoners who Lady Pandora the Sorceress has a vested interest in," said Relma with a shrug. "Do you think Anias will be able to hold us here? We don''t have to do anything. Pandora will do something any minute now, and the whole scheme will come tumbling down.


    "I don''t think Anias thought this through very well."


    "Do you even pay attention?" asked Estela. "Lady Pandora hates clashing with nobility. If she makes a scene here, it could have serious repercussions."


    Relma shrugged. "I never said it would be obvious. It''s not as if I''m expecting her to transform Reginald into a bear, kick in the doors, and murder all the guards. She will probably transform Lord Anias into a snake or something.


    "She''d have to be a monstrous egomaniac to do that. And Aunt Pan is more sensible than that. No, she''ll do something subtle as soon as she finds out about this.


    "We''d better make sure she finds out sooner," She paused as a thought occurred, and she saw a bird on the branches. "Well, we''ve got a window." She made her way over to it and reached out at the bird. "Hello there, come here."


    The bird leaped down to land on her finger. Estela scoffed. "Oh, so now you can talk to birds." Relma shrugged. "I don''t think I can. Talk less in the sounds. I understand what they mean by reading their spirits.


    "Excuse me, could you go to Pandora? You know her?" She heard a chirp. "Good, go and tell her that the Heir of Kings is being held captive. Go now."


    The bird flew off. With that done, Relma thought about what to do next. After a moment, he made her way over to the door and looked through the bars. "Excuse me, guard."


    The guard glanced back. "What is it?"


    "What''s your name?" asked Relma.


    "I''m not here to talk with you." said the guard.


    "Can you take a message to Lord Anias for me?" asked Relma.


    The man paused before turning to her in full. "I''m listening."


    "I heard that there was a boy in the dungeons," said Relma. "He burned his hand while trying to steal something. I was hoping to heal him."


    "Why do you care?" asked the guard.


    "Well, I believe even thieves deserve to be healed of their injuries," said Relma.


    The guard sighed and glanced at one of his fellows. "...Anis, go to Asus and ask on her behalf." Anis ran off. Relma turned and walked to sit down next to Estela. The knight frowned at her.


    "What are you doing?"


    "Getting out of the cell," said Relma in a low tone. "People have no reason to take me seriously, and I''ll be able to get a look at the castle."


    Estela nodded. "...Right."


    The guard came back, and Asus was with him. Asus opened the door and stepped in. "Lord Anias has given his permission. Come with me."


    And so Relma was led away. So she began to talk. "...So, how long have you served Lord Anias?"


    "Twelve years now," said Asus. "I trained in Magicora in my youth. I was forced to flee the city thanks to the machinations of my enemies. Anias pays me well, however."


    "And do you feel alright about helping him keep his guests captive?" asked Relma.


    "Morality isn''t real," said Asus. "People do whatever they think they can get away with. Those who try to hold to ideals end up dead or poor."


    "No, they don''t," said Relma. "I''m neither. And so are plenty of old people I know."


    "You''re young and stupid," said Asus. "Spend a few years doing mercenary work to keep food on the table and then tell me you''d never do anything ''evil'' for pay."


    "Did you?" asked Relma.


    Asus sighed. "Yes.


    "I had to do whatever jobs I could get. Anias pays me well, and I have a stable lifestyle in his service. That''s all I ask."


    "I''m sorry to hear that," said Relma.


    They walked in silence and eventually came to the cell. A soldier was standing guard there and saluted. "Sir Asus."


    "This girl is here to see the boy," said Asus. "Bring her to the cell."


    "Yes, sir." said the man before opening the door.


    Relma was led into the cell and saw a brown-haired boy covered in bruises and lying in the straw. He''d suffered a lot more than a burned hand since his attempt at theft. And Lord Anias was every bit as much of a thief. There was an irony there.


    "Is this him?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said Asus.


    "Who are you?" asked the boy as Relma approached.


    "You don''t need to be afraid," said Relma, kneeling by him. "I heard you got hurt. I can help."


    "My hand is still aching." said the boy.


    Relma touched the boy''s shoulder and channeled the will of Elranor. She felt his injuries and fought against them, soothing the pain. Little by little, the injuries disappeared. But the burn on his hand was harder; it seemed to cling to the flesh. Relma felt sweat drip down her brow as she tried to fix it.


    At last, it was gone.


    "There, it should be fine now," said Relma. "Where did you get these bruises?"


    "The guards," said the boy, "they beat me. They said I was a filthy thief. But... but all I wanted to do was see inside."


    "Ironic, isn''t it?" asked Relma. "They mistreat you for being a thief. But I''m only here in this cell because Lord Anias is trying to steal something from me." She made her way out with Asus, who eyed her.


    "This is all very kind of you," said Asus flatly as he shut the door. "He''ll hang today."


    "What?" said Relma. "Why?"


    "He tried to rob a knight," said Asus with a shrug. "Anias chose to hang him."


    "But Estela said she didn''t want him to hang," said Relma.


    "Estela is not the Lord Culhorn," said Asus. "Of course, he may consider a pardon in exchange for an act of goodwill."


    "He''s killing a child so that he can add a sword to his collection," said Relma. "For a crime that he is committing."


    "It is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity," said Asus flatly. "Give him Lightning Trail, and the boy will be pardoned."


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    Relma remained silent for a moment. If she gave up Lightning Trail, he might live. But wouldn''t it be far worse if she did? She couldn''t submit to this blackmail, not for anything. "I... I can''t! I can''t! It isn''t mine to give."


    "How unfortunate," said Asus. "Take the boy."


    The men entered the cell and pulled the boy out as Relma watched in horror.


    "What''s going on?" said the boy. But no one answered as he was dragged away.


    "This is wrong," said Relma. "You must know that!"


    "It''s ordered," said Asus.


    "Orders or not, your soul is yours to damn or save," said Relma, feeling suddenly detached and furious. Asus seemed very small all of a sudden. "Do you think Elranor will accept that excuse when you stand before his throne?"


    "No, please!" said the boy. "I wasn''t going to steal anything, I swear it! I swear!"


    The guard hit him. "Shut up, brat!"


    Asus'' expression flickered with conflict for a moment. His gaze seemed vulnerable for a single instant. Then he scowled, and his expression hardened. His heart had been hardened, and he would follow through with it. His choice was made; she could see into his soul. "If you want to save the boy, you will yield Lightning Trail to Lord Anias."


    Relma found herself led in a blur through the halls, then to a balcony overlooking the gallows. A noose had been tied, and people were gathering. Lord Anias stood there with armed guards. Asus was behind Relma, fingering his knife with doubt. But it needed to be stronger.


    "My people, today, we will see justice for a most serious crime," said Anias. "This boy, Richard Aucust, was caught attempting to steal from the noble Lady Estela¡ªa knight who travels in the company of the Heir of Kings.


    "Today, we will see the punishment dealt to this heretic."


    "You can still save him, you know," said Asus, doubt in his voice. "All you have to do is agree to yield the sword. Then I will send a signal to stop the execution."


    "I''ve already told Pandora what is going on here," said Relma, appealing to his pragmatism. "She''ll be on her way soon."


    Fear opened his heart again as Asus shifted. But the promise of future rewards and the fear of losing what he had closed it. "Lady Pandora is in no position to stop us. The spirits are working against you by the will of Lucius. Spirits that are only too willing to work for me.


    "I observed that much. It''s why Lord Anias is risking this."


    Then, the crowds began to murmur. Gradually, they parted as Lady Pandora emerged, looking far larger than before. Something about her radiated power. "Lord Anias, what is the meaning of this?"


    Anias smirked, or so Relma guessed. It seemed like something he would do. "Lady Pandora, I see you are here to observe justice done."


    "I''ve observed more than that," said Pandora. "Where is the Lady Estela and her squire?"


    "They are guests within my house, of course," said Lord Anias. "This is merely a demonstration. Now I must ask you to stand back and allow justice to be done."


    "How is this justice?" asked Lady Pandora. "Lady Estela specifically said that she wanted no harm done to the boy." Why was Relma thinking of her as Lady Pandora? It was like she was someone else right now.


    "Whatever she wants, he has violated my laws, and so, barring some miracle or pardon, must die," said Anias.


    "Aunt Pan! Help!" called Relma down toward her. Why hadn''t she called for help before?


    "She cannot hear you," said Asus. "The spells within this place prevent any words from carrying through to the outside."


    "What are you after by this, Anias?" asked Lady Pandora.


    "You wound me, Lady Pandora," said Lord Anias, voice cold. "Carry on with the execution. Now."


    As the boy was dragged to the noose, Relma found something furious within her awaken. Gradually, it was fitted around his neck. "Please! Please don''t hurt me! I didn''t; I didn''t-" Asus had let go of her. Relma turned around, grabbed his knife, drew it out, and stabbed him in the leg. He screamed and fell as Relma leaped onto his chest. "Arg! You little bitch, how dare-"


    She put the knife to his eye. A cold fury was on her, and he must have seen it. "Listen to me carefully, Asus. You will signal Lord Anias that I''ve agreed to your demands. Or I''m going to cut out your eyes.


    "I never want to kill anyone, so this is the next best thing. And you can be healed later. Understand?"


    Asus shuddered, looking as though he''d seen a ghost. "Yes."


    There was a brilliant flash of light above them. No doubt that was the signal. "So, it appears there has been a sign from Elranor. Very well, Lady Pandora. Consider the boy pardoned." Relma felt sick all of a sudden. She had hurt someone, nearly stabbed out his eyes. It had been cruel and horrible and unforgivable. Asus grabbed her arms and threw her off. Throwing her onto the floor he wrestled his knife around from her in a fury.


    Relma saw in him a horrible fury born of greed. He was angry at the pain he had suffered. Angry at the humiliation she had dealt to him. Angry at possible punishment. But most of all, he was enraged by the money he would lose.


    "You miserable little brat!" Asus snarled, humanity fleeing from his face as he raised the knife. "Threaten me, will you!"


    And then a poleaxe went to Asus'' throat. He stared, and Relma looked up to see Fayn standing there. "Excuse me."


    "Fayn?" said Relma.


    "Still naive then?" said Fayn.


    Then she surged forward, and Asus'' head fell off his shoulders. It rolled to the edge of the balcony as his body spewed blood. It collapsed to its knees, then fell on the ground. Relma scrambled back, horrified. She hadn''t wanted Asus to die. If he''d lived, maybe he would have become good.


    Fayn''s reaction was understandable, even justified. But...


    "You didn''t have to kill him," said Relma.


    "Do you think this axe was meant for hugging?" asked Fayn. "Come on; we''ve got to get out of here."


    Relma shook her head. The situation had escalated. "No, it was really stupid. Before, all we did was deceive Anias. Now we''ve killed one of his subordinates. And Asus could have been useful after waking up." She followed Fayn. "What are you doing here, anyway?"


    "Cin''Dar kept track of your location by the fires on the walls," said Fayn. "He told me where you were. Anias shortchanged me and only gave me half of what I was promised. So I went to save you and spite him. Now come on, we''ve got to get Estela out of here."


    Guards ran down one hall toward them. "The prisoner is free!"


    Fayn raised her axe, and the flames shot from the torches to bar their way. "That should hold them for a time."


    They moved through the halls. Periodically, Fayn would block off halls to keep guards from following them. Several more guards who tried to block their way were disarmed in moments. At last, they came to the cell. Several guards were slammed about a bit by the flat of Fayn''s axe. The rest ran.


    "Here we are," said Fayn.


    "So are we going to pick the lock or-" began Relma.


    Fayn raised her axe and brought it down on the lock with a flash of fire. She cleaved right through. The door swung open as Fayn stepped through. "No. No, we are not." Estela stood up. "Fayn?"


    "Estela, glad to see you here," said Fayn. "Come on. We''re getting out of here."


    "Not without Lightning Trail," said Relma.


    "We can''t get Lightning Trail," said Fayn. "Anias and his guards are headed straight for it."


    "Then we''ll just have to get there first," said Relma. "Where is it?"


    Fayn sighed. "...Fine, it''s in the Great Hall. Come on."


    Estela snatched up a sword from one of the unconscious guards, and they ran. They heard or saw no sign of the guards as they did so. Then, ahead of them, they heard Anias. "Where is Asus?"


    "No word from him, sir. It seems that the Heir of Kings escaped after he gave the signal," said a voice. "She''s probably going to make a run for it."


    "It is of no great concern," said Anias in a cheerful tone. "Now that she has yielded authority over Lightning Trail to me, I may add it to my collection. It shall be my greatest prize yet."


    They reached the Great Hall and saw Anias approaching the wall. On that wall was hung Lightning Trail. It was flashing in the light, seeming to glare with anger.


    "With respect, sir, you should be careful," said a man. "The servants who touched the blade were burned. We''ve had to handle it with gloves until now."


    "That was when the Heir of Kings held it," said Lord Anias, drawing off his gloves. "Now, it is mine." And he reached out for it.


    Relma realized that if he took Lightning Trail, he would die. Someone else would have let it happen, but the memory of Asus'' death was in her mind. Everything he could have been, all the good he might have accomplished. It was cut short ¡ª all for one moment of mercilessness.


    Relma ran forward. "No, wait!"


    But it was too late. Anias took hold of the sword, then there was a flash and a scream. The old man fell backward, his skin blackened, and smoking, and Lightning Trail spun from his hand. It landed point down in the flagstones before Relma. She felt sick and thought she was about to throw up as she checked the body.


    "...Lord Anias?" asked a servant woman clad in white.


    "He''s dead," said Relma.


    "Seize them!" said the guard from before.


    "For what?" asked the servant.


    "...Killing Lord Anias," said the guard after a moment.


    "They didn''t kill Lord Anias," said the servant woman. "If anything, she tried to stop him from touching it."


    "Well, still, she''s an intruder," said the guard. "Our orders-"


    "Our orders came from Lord Anias," said the servant woman. "He''s dead. This means this place will go to whoever in his family is closest by blood. He didn''t have any sons."


    "But shouldn''t we take them into custody?" asked the guard.


    "She''s the Heir of Kings," said the servant. "Her sword kills people other than her who touch it. As long as Anias gave the orders, I was willing to follow them. But I''ll not be held responsible for heresy."


    "Is it heresy?" asked the guard.


    There were several contemplative murmurs at this. "I think so," said the servant woman after a moment.


    "Which means Anias'' lands may well be forfeit to the church," said the guard. "Damn it, where is Asus, exactly?"


    "He''s dead," said Relma, feeling miserable.


    "Did you kill him?" asked the servant.


    "No," said Relma. "I threatened him with a knife into telling Anias I''d given up Lightning Trail. Then he got free and tried to kill me. Then Fayn chopped his head off from behind."


    More contemplative murmurs. "...Meaning Asus was probably guilty of heresy as well," said the servant woman.


    "Alright, that''s it. I''ve had enough," said the guard. "I''m washing my hands of this whole nonsense. Take the sword and get out of this village. Best do it before people start asking inconvenient questions. I''ll let Steward Benarus or someone in authority decide what to do about this mess."


    "You''re taking all this pretty well," said Estela.


    "Anias paid his dues on time, at least to us," said the guard. "But he wasn''t exactly pleasant company. And anyway, what am I supposed to do? Kill you and your friends, then Lady Pandora, before being hung by Benarus?"


    "Good point," said Estela. "What''s your name?"


    The guard sighed. "Anagoth.


    "I''ll remember that," said Relma. "Um, where did Anias put Estela''s blade?"


    "It''s by the door, waiting for her," said Anagoth. "He wasn''t planning on stealing anything. Just extorting you."


    A door opened, and Ham Hawkthorne rushed in. The big man was clad in reddish armor and held his sword in one hand, freshly bloodied. His helmet was off, and he was coated in sweat. and he walked with a limp before falling to one knee. "Anagoth! Anagoth! Where are Anias and Asus?"


    "Anias is there," said Anagoth. "Asus is somewhere else without a pulse. What is it?"


    "Dead? Damn, it all! The woodsmen have reports for us," said Ham. "A huge force of satyrs is heading to the castle as we speak. They''ll be here at any hour. I had to fight a dozen of them on my way out and narrowly got out." He looked to Relma. "Milady, what is going on here? I didn''t even know you were here."


    "It''s a long story," said Estela. "We''ll tell you later."


    "Focus," said Anagoth. "Rally the men." Then he looked at them. "Estela, Fayn, you''ve deprived us of two swords today. Kindly replace them." sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "He''s right," said Relma. "We''ve got to help."


    "Heir of Kings-" began Anagoth.


    "My name is Relma," said Relma.


    "Do you have any skills?" asked Anagoth.


    "Well, I''m a decent fighter," said Relma. "But I can heal people. I''m better at that."


    "Good," said Anagoth. "I''ll place you behind the lines to heal the wounded. You''ll be of use and won''t get killed there. Kindly go to Lady Pandora and your other companions. Ask them for help. I expect we''ll need their help soon."


    "Right," said Relma.


    Only once Relma was out of sight did she allow herself to throw up. She''d wished she''d had a chance to talk with Ham in better circumstances.

 Chapter Eight: Fairy Queen Isriath

    When Relma emerged from the castle, she found the village in chaos. People were hurrying into the walls, carrying bags and food. Soldiers rushed along the walls, preparing the defenses. And then she saw Aunt Pan come on and hug her. Relma felt embarrassed by the embrace and tried to free herself from it.


    Eventually, Pan let her go and smiled. "Relma, thank goodness you are alright. What happened?"


    "Lord Anias took us captive and tried to get me to give up Lightning Trail," said Relma. "He said he''d hang that boy if I didn''t."


    "You didn''t, did you?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "No, of course not," said Relma, surprised she even had to ask. "But I tricked him into thinking I had. So he grabbed Lightning Trail, and it killed him. I tried to stop him, Aunt Pan, but I wasn''t fast enough. And Fayn killed Asus."


    "If they were trying to steal Lightning Trail, they deserved what happened to them," said Aunt Pan.


    "Maybe they did, and maybe they didn''t," said Relma. "But people deserve a lot of things. And, I mean, nobody cares. No one cared that Anias was dead, not even his guards.


    "It makes me sad." However, Anias had given her no choice. Still, Relma ought to mourn her fallen enemies, shouldn''t she?


    "Whatever the case, our plans will have to be put on hold," said Aunt Pan. "The satyrs are coming as we speak. We must decide whether to stay and fight or slip past them."


    "For my part, I intend to fight," said Estela as she came forward, now wearing her armor and sword. "It''s an opportunity for glory, and if the battle goes badly, the satyrs might ravage Gel Carn."


    "Same here," said Fayn.


    Aunt Pan looked at them. "Well, that more or less decides it, doesn''t it?"


    Estela and Fayn moved off, but Aunt Pan stopped Relma as she tried to follow. Listen, Relma; I want you to stay out of the fighting."


    "I know," said Relma. "I was already asked to take my place among the healers."


    "You don''t mind?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "Why would I?" said Relma. "I''m not all that great of a warrior. My only real victory so far has been against an overconfident, half-drunk man. And he was acting recklessly. Oh, and beating Fayn when the Heaven''s Eye coursed through me.


    "Besides, I don''t want to kill anyone."


    "You have a strange way of seeking glory," said Aunt Pan.


    "I don''t seek that kind," said Relma. The idea of putting a sword through someone made her feel sick. Ending a life...


    It was something she never wanted to do.


    "Still, there is something I need you to do, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "My connection to the spirits of the land is tenuous at the moment.


    "I''d appreciate it if you could speak to them for me."


    "Right," said Relma. So Aunt Pan needed her for something at last. "So, how do we do that?"


    "With difficulty," said Aunt Pan. "Come with me."


    Aunt Pan led them out of the castle, beyond the village walls, and toward the marsh. As they did, Relma half-expected satyrs to come rushing out of it at any moment. The trees were hunched over and menacing. The people they saw were all fleeing away from the marsh, though there were only a few. Nobody seemed to build on this side of town.


    "Are you sure we should go outside the walls?" asked Relma. "Everyone else is going in." The longer they stayed out here, the more likely they''d have to fight. Relma didn''t think much of her chances by herself and wasn''t sure how good Aunt Pan was. Though Relma doubted she''d be defenseless.


    "Spirits don''t like change," said Aunt Pan. "Tradition is important to them. Trying to communicate with them without going to the proper place is ill-advised. It is generally considered bad form. And form is everything to some of them."


    "Couldn''t we wait for a better time?" asked Relma.


    "Unfortunately, if we don''t do this now, I may not be able to use any magic in the coming battle," said Aunt Pan.


    Soon, they went into the marsh itself. You could smell the salt before you got into the murky water. The wind blew through it, rustling in the underbrush, and Relma felt a tenseness in the air. The trees yielded before them, and they suddenly came to a small hill that rose out of the water. On it were standing stones, heavily carved. Relma looked at them, admiring the symbols on them.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    "They are some of the oldest ruins in all of Harlenor," said Aunt Pan, going forward. "Perhaps the oldest. Here was where the ancient men worshipped the spirits of the land before''s coming of Elranor. In those days, humans and satyrs were on good terms.


    "Almost brothers."


    "Why did they become enemies?" asked Relma.


    "Humanity grew out of its bloodthirsty nature," said Aunt Pan. "The satyrs did not. It isn''t entirely their fault, for it was a part of their essence." She took hold of Relma''s shoulders and led her to a circle of small stones. "Now come, stand here."


    Then, suddenly, the trees'' leaves began to flow in waves. They swirled around them, faster and faster. Relma could see a figure within the leaves, emerging gradually. The water around them suddenly shone golden as light burst forth from the leaves. Before, Relma was a stunningly beautiful woman. She was like an elf but with two colorful butterfly wings on either side of her body. Her hair was yellow like gold, and clad in a green tunic. Bells were hanging from her waist, and she went barefoot. On her head was a golden circle.


    "So you have come, Pandora." said the woman.


    "Fairy Queen Isriath, I have come as you requested," said Aunt Pan.


    Isriath looked over Relma. "This is her, then? A pure aura is not something I have seen in many ages of this world. It is like new cloth that has never been touched by dirt or grime.


    "I can see why Lucius seeks her."


    Relma felt it was her turn to speak, and she did so before she could think. "Do you know why Lucius is after me?"


    "I have my suspicions," said Isriath. "But it is not a matter I have concerned myself with overmuch. Knowing that whatever it is is against your best interests is enough.


    "He has requested my assistance and the assistance of the spirits of the land. In return, he has promised to return us to power."


    "Are you going to help him?" asked Relma.


    Isriath laughed, and her voice was like the sound of a harp. "To the point, aren''t you?


    "We''re about to be invaded by an army of satyrs," said Relma. "We don''t have much time." S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "In light of the circumstances, it is forgivable," said Isriath. "Though I may choose not to forgive it."


    "You aren''t answering my question," noted Relma, filled with a strange confidence.


    Isriath smiled. "I think I like this one.


    "Lucius promises me great power. But deals with him always have a price. I have considered it, however, for the fairies have faded. In ages past, we were held in great respect and adoration by humans and satyrs alike.


    "Then came your sire, Anoa the Bright.


    "He had no heed for the old ways. He cast down our sacred stones and killed many of us."


    "You neglect to mention something. Mortal sacrifice was practiced at these stones, Isriath," said Aunt Pan. "And your kind often overstepped the boundaries of their agreements."


    Isriath shook her head. "So we did. But we were among the only race to take human part against Alchara. And for that, we were repaid with our blood.


    "I will admit that Anoa II did much to redeem his race, though not nearly enough. Others did the same. Though that one Steward..." A grimace came to her face. "She richly deserved her fate."


    "Which Steward?" asked Relma.


    "One of Benarus'' ancestors," said Aunt Pan. "She attempted to destroy many of the remaining sacred places. Laevian, however, cursed her, and she fled south into the Road of Ancient Stone. Given she has not been seen in centuries, she is probably dead.


    "I never did find out what happened to her, however."


    "Whatever her fate, now the fairies have recovered somewhat," said Isriath. "Some of our sacred places have been recreated, our homes reestablished.


    "But we dwell in hiding, operating through spirits. And we cannot grow any further without being known. Yet we dare not stand in the light for fear that mortals will seek our end again."


    "Can I do something to help you?" asked Relma.


    "Perhaps," said Isriath. "If you were to become King of Harlenor Reunited, you would have great power. Power great enough to restrain the axes of mortals. To reign in their destructive tendencies so that we could return to the light. To establish shrines to the old ways."


    "Whether you work for or against me, I promise you that I will do my best to ensure justice is done," said Relma.


    Isriath looked at her in surprise. Her wings beat the air. "You aren''t one for bargaining, are you?"


    "Would it help?" asked Relma. "I don''t know this Lucius or what he has offered you. But I''ve heard of what he''s done, and everything I''ve heard tells me he is not a very good person. Do you want someone like that ruling supreme over Harlenor Reunited?


    "Or a foolish but well-intentioned person who''s willing to listen?"


    "And yet, should we side with you against Lucius and you are defeated, it will be far worse for us," said Isritath. "He knows our places, and should we turn against him, I fear he will wither every root we''ve set down."


    "I can''t disagree," said Relma. "I don''t know him. But I''ll do everything I can to make sure that doesn''t happen. It may not be very much, but I won''t be alone. There are others in Harlenor, plenty of good people who will understand what you want.


    "If we can gather them together, all of doing a little bit at a time will add up. Eventually, Harlenor Reunited may be created, greater than ever before. Without the weaknesses of the old one."


    "And what can you promise us for our support?" asked Isriath.


    "Only that I will do everything in my power to rule fairly," said Relma, feeling like she was repeating herself.


    Isriath stared at her in bewilderment and amazement. "...You truly are a poor player, you know. Every mortal I''ve negotiated with before, you have made promises. All in exchange for support later. Yet you offer nothing. And ask nothing. You only say your intentions and leave me to seek all the negotiating.


    "I am impressed with your resolve. But I expect you will come to a bitter end.


    "I will remain neutral in this conflict between you and Lucius, helping neither side. Nor shall I hinder them. Lady Pandora, I shall make no move to restrain you."


    Aunt Pan stepped forward. "Thank you, Queen Isriath. We must leave soon. The satyrs are coming."


    "And so they will," said Isriath. "Perhaps in this conflict, places shall be freed where the fair folk may establish new homes. Farewell."


    Then she faded, and the light was gone. Aunt Pan turned to her. "That was very well done, Relma.


    "You convinced them not to act against you without promising anything in return. I was expecting we''d need to make some quests. Or worse. That is the usual way these things go down.


    "We''d best go."


    They hurried back. As they did so, they heard the sound of drumbeats growing closer behind them. By the time they came near the gates, they were deafening. The wood was alive with howls and snarls. Glancing back, Relma saw satyr scouts peering out of the woods.


    The castle walls were all manned. The villages were empty, and the door was shut. As they neared it, the lookout called aloud: "Open the gates; the Heir of Kings is back."


    They were met by Varsus, who was sharpening his sword by the gate. He looked up. "Relma, where did you go?"


    "To negotiate with the fairies," said Relma. "You see-"


    "Enough of this," said Aunt Pan. "Relma, go to the healers. I must take my place on the walls."


    Disappointed, Relma was led to a large stone building. There were dozens of bedrolls laid out around it. A portly, forty-year-old woman hurried up, hair covered in white. It was the servant woman from before, now that Relma thought of it. She hadn''t had time to notice the details before with everything happening.


    "You''re the Heir of Kings, then? How good are you at healing?" asked the woman.


    "I can deal with minor injuries easily," said Relma. "Though I''m not-"


    "Fine then, I want you on the walls, tending to what injuries you can." said the woman. "If you see someone with an arrow sticking out of them, don''t drag it out. Leave that to the ones with medical experience.


    "I don''t want any heroics. Your job is healing, not hurting. Remember that!"


    Relma nodded. "Yes, ma''am."


    "Good. Now go." said the woman.


    Business as usual, then. Relma rushed to help.

 Chapter Ten: Battle on the Walls

    Back up, Relma went to the walls, carrying a jug of water with her. She offered to anyone who became thirsty. As she reached the top, she saw both the militia and the man at arms assembling on the walls. Spears and bows were in their hands, as well as some axes. They looked out over the fields where, even now, the satyrs were beginning to emerge.


    They hadn''t yet come out of the marshes, however. Many were half-submerged in the water. Others were peering out of the trees or hanging from branches. Like the apes from the stories Aren used to tell.


    Eventually, Relma reached Varsus, where he stood with the blade at his side. To her surprise, he was standing with the officers from before. And they were speaking to him as a commander. She supposed he was the highest rank of any present except Reginald. Relma was the Heir of Kings, so that didn''t hold up. And Aunt Pan didn''t even have a rank.


    "Relma, what are you doing here?" asked Varsus as she approached.


    "The healer asked me to look after anyone injured on the wall," said Relma.


    "Excellent," said Varsus. "Every bit helps. You can stay here if you wish. We''ll have a better view of things. At least until the carnage starts."


    "Sir Varsus, the message has been sent out," said Anagoth, approaching. "Frederick and De Cathe know what is happening. With luck, they''ll bring reinforcements."


    ''How far away are they?" asked Varsus.


    "Three days," said Anagoth.


    "The satyrs may be gone by the time they come then," said Varsus.


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma, forgetting her place.


    "This may be a raid," said Varsus. "We still don''t know the enemy''s full strength. Our reports came from trees, and they never say anything clearly. At least not without taking three years about it."


    "You can talk to trees?" asked Relma.


    "No," said Anagoth. "But some among our folk can. It''s a skill that helps us defend against satyr raids. Anias sending Fayn out there was sheer idiocy."


    "Where is Fayn?" asked Relma. "And Estela, for that matter? I haven''t seen them anywhere."


    "They and Reginald have orders of their own," said Varsus. "Look there."


    And out of the trees came the satyrs. Wearing war paint, they howled and gnashed their teeth as they rushed out. The mud of the marsh was on them. They looked more like animals than sentients; Relma realized that was an awful thing to think. Their spears, axes, and swords were in their hands as they rushed forward.


    Those few houses that remained had their doors kicked in. The satyrs entered, searching around for anything to look at. Fields were torn up, and crops trampled as they hacked down everything they found. One or two human screams could be heard from people who hadn''t gotten out in time. Relma saw distant figures being pulled from their houses before packs of satyrs fell on them. They were covered beneath a pile of satyrs, and then the screams halted. Then, one of the creatures rose up with a bloodied mouth and snarled.


    "That''s far more than I expected," said Anagoth. "And no ladders."


    "Yes," said Varsus. "No doubt they are counting on spiritual support. Fortunately, I''ve arranged for their coming not to be unwelcomed." Then he drew a horn and blew it a long, shrill call.


    As it rang, the ground seemed to shift as a large force of warriors emerged from the grass. They fell on the satyrs while pillaging and killing all they could.


    Estela was at the front, hacking down all who came before her. Reginald was to her left, his serrated blade moving in a blur. Ham was on the right, slashing the enemy with ruthless strikes. One of the satyrs caught him across the helm with his sword, but Ham powered through and ran him through.


    Then there was Fayn, sending waves of flame here and there to scorch satyrs. Some were reduced to charred corpses. Others caught fire and fled, screaming away in search of water. Often, their sparks lit up others.


    Chaos engulfed the battlefield as the satyrs responded and rushed at them. But the warriors formed up, locking their shields. Spears were lowered, and the satyr attack halted as it smashed against them. Many fell from the spears during the first charge. Warriors met those who got through with swords.


    Varsus watched in satisfaction. "Reginald and Estela were waiting in ambush alongside a large part of the militia. Fayn is with them."


    "But they can''t fight all of them," said Anagoth. "You''re throwing good men away."


    "No, but they can give them a bloody nose," said Varsus. "And that can demoralize an enemy. Pandora, call forth the insects."


    Aunt Pan had been standing in the shadow of the gatehouse. Relma hadn''t even noticed her there. Coming forward, Aunt Pan raised a hand. "As you wish."


    Insects? Relma stared at the battlefield and suddenly saw a mist begin to gather. It got thicker, little by little. Wherever it went, the satyrs broke and backed away. Soon, it was covering nearly the entire battlefield. "Flies," she realized. "Their flies!"


    "And other creatures," said Pandora. "I''ve been gathering the flies and stinging insects from across the land to this region for weeks. It was ever since I received news of the massings satyrs. Now, they are unleashed against our enemies.


    "Never underestimate the power of a stinging insect."


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    Then the world seemed to shift, the sky changing hue like some will have been set in motion. A silver netting seemed to fill the air as a black mass rushed past the satyr ranks. The satyrs took heart and charged behind them. The nets swung this way and that, catching the flies by the dozens with every swing.


    "What are those?" asked Relma.


    "Spiders of Rioletta," said Aunt Pan with a frown. "They are using their webs to catch the flies.


    So it appears that Lucius has other allies." Then she raised her hand skyward. "Come forth, birds of the world! Feast on the spawn of demons!"


    And out of the trees came birds. Hundreds of birds flew out and began to dive-bomb down into the battlefield. They snatched up spiders one after another, devouring them whole. And more birds came behind them. The battlefield now seemed a mass of darting shapes, yet Relma felt it was not yet over.


    For a satyr, warrior stood upon a rock and let out a call like a bird. And many birds of prey swooped out of the trees to begin hunting. The mortal combatants now seemed insignificant, one part of a much greater battle. The corpses of thousands, perhaps more than thousands, were piling up. There were insects, mortals, birds, everything you could imagine.


    "Hawks," said Relma. "I''ve never seen so many of them before."


    "The satyrs have contacts of their own," said Varsus.


    "Sound the withdrawal," said Pandora. "We''re doing well, but they''ll be overwhelmed once the satyrs begin to advance."


    Varsus drew his horn and blew it again. On reflex, the warriors fighting the satyrs began to withdraw. As they did, a great flame rose between them and the enemy, scorching the grass. Many creatures were burned away by the fire that covered their retreat.


    "That was a far more impressive display than I thought Fayn capable of," said Pandora.


    "She has advanced much in wielding Cin''Dar''s power," said Varsus.


    On came the retreating troops, and the gates were opened for them. Many of them looked sick, and many were injured. Not one of them was covered in bug bites. And outside, Relma saw the battle gradually clearing. The bodies were dragged away or devoured. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Relma, there will be wounded among our vanguard," said Varsus. "Go to them and heal them as best you can."


    "Yes, Varsus," said Relma.


    The wounded were many, and the healers were hard at work tending to them. Relma saw several minor cuts and several significant bruises. Though they would not be minor if they got infected.


    Then she saw Fayn.


    The girl was lying on the ground, several men keeping the pressure on her side. Her breastplate had been removed to show black clothes stained with blood. Relma kneeled by her. "Let me see her." And she began to work at healing the injury. It was a serious one, and she had to work at it a lot to make any progress at all.


    "What happened to her?" she asked to distract herself.


    "A satyr caught her in the side with its spear." said the man. "Though it lost its head for the trouble."


    "Hold on a moment," said Relma, finishing the job. "There, that should help." Fayn''s eyes opened. "Are you alright, Fayn?"


    "Fine, now tend to someone else!" snapped Fayn.


    Relma smiled and stood. "Right."


    Finishing her rounds, Relma eventually found Estela with a bandage around her arm. She approached quickly. "Estela, are you alright?"


    "It''s just a scratch," said Estela. "We did well today. Reginald must have killed a dozen of them."


    "How is that good?" asked Relma.


    "They aren''t a threat anymore," said Estela.


    "Oh right," said Relma, reminding herself there were benefits to killing enemies.


    But then Estela looked up, and her expression became strange. "...Are those clouds? There weren''t any like that a few minutes ago."


    Relma looked up at the clouds that grew darker and darker before them. As if a thunderstorm might be unleashed at any moment. "Do you think this is Lucius?"


    "Lady Estela, Sir Reginald!" called a man.


    "What is it?" asked Estela.


    "Come to the wall, quickly," said the man.


    They quickly rushed out and looked out over the darkening landscape. Then they saw something truly horrible. Bleached white bones, stripped of flesh, had arisen again. Ranks of skeletons march forward. Hewn bodies had reassembled, still bleeding to move forward. Relma saw wounded satyrs running themselves through. Then they arose in death and drew the blades out.


    "The dead... the bodies of the dead are rising again," said Estela, face white.


    "Only the satyrs," said Pandora, appearing. "They''ve given themselves fully to Lucius. The very ground beneath their feet groans in agony."


    "Archers ready!" called Varsus.


    "Aim for the live satyrs. Your arrows will be little good against the dead," said Pandora. "I am drawing back the animals I summoned to a defensive position. These powers are not natural and can be fought with nature."


    Arrows rained as the dead marched forward as a vanguard. The live satyrs stayed out of range, letting the walking corpses near them. As they neared, plants began to grow at the base of the wall. Vines scaled in moments up the walls, wrapping around them. And the dead began to climb as arrows plunged into them uselessly.


    "Fayn, get up here!" called Reginald down. "Quickly!"


    "Relma, go to work at once!" said Pandora.


    "Yes, Aunt Pan!" said Relma.


    And then the dead reached the top. Then began the battle, as men hacked down at the corpses. Limbs were hewed off; heads were split. Sometimes, the wounds even killed them. The dead were not very good fighters, but that wasn''t their purpose.


    It was a distraction. The archers couldn''t fire while grappling with the undead, and now the satyrs were also scaling up the vines. Relma dodged under a scimitar blade to heal a wounded man on the ground. His eyes were vacant as her flesh knit. "Come on, get up! Your friends need you!"


    Then she saw some militia, terrified, running for the stairs. Quickly, Relma got between them.


    "What are you doing?" she asked, voice calm. "Why are you running when the battle is the other way?"


    The men looked ashamed, then ran back. And Relma went to heal more wounded. But it became clear that things were going badly. The satyrs who were killed always rose again as undead. The mass of bodies on the wall was increasing. All Relma could do was keep the men fighting, giving water where she had to.


    And then there came the howl of a wolf.


    Relma''s heart leaped, and she ran to the edge. There, she saw hundreds of wolves and many figures who were a mix of wolves and human. They sprinted out of the trees and fell on the satyrs from behind, tearing through them. And there was Ajax, his silver hair flowing as he ripped satyr after satyr to shreds with his bare hands. His sister, Anya, was down there, fighting nearly as well.


    And it was not the last of the help. For out of the trees came armored men, clad for war. And hundreds of halflings riding upon wolves. At their head were Sir Frederick and Ronald. They broke the satyr ranks and drove them on.


    "Ajax! Ajax has come!" called Relma. "Sir Frederick and De Cathe are with him! They are here!"


    "But how?" said Estela. "They''re three days away."


    "Apparently not," said Relma.


    Soon, the assault drew off to repel the new attack. Frederick and his allies formed up to meet them and charged. But even as he did, the dead rose up in a mockery of life. Caught from two sides, they were soon surrounded and fighting for their lives. And more satyrs came out of the woods to reinforce them.


    "They''ll be killed for sure," said Estela before rushing, looking for Varsus. She found him resting on his blade, two dead satyrs at his feet. "Varsus! Varsus, we have to go out to aid them!"


    Varsus looked up. "Reginald, prepare to go to their aid."


    "The men are exhausted. We''re in no position to attack," said Reginald.


    "We have no choice," said Varsus. "We''ll carve a path of escape for them and then retreat to the fortress. With time we may be able to-"


    And then something arose within Relma. A power not her own but of her kind. Lightning Trail was naked in her hand of its own accordingly. She felt the power growing within it as she was drawn to the edge of the wall. "There is no need."


    "Relma, what are you doing?" asked Estela.


    Relma leaped up onto the parapet and raised the sword skyward. Power blazed within her as the skies rumbled ever stronger. "In the name of Lord Elranor, be gone from this world!" she cried aloud, though it was not her speaking. Everyone turned to her, even the dead. "Come lightning and thunder! Consume the armies of the dead, be obliterated down to the last bone!"


    The clouds opened, and lightning fell upon them like rain. Thousands of flashes were seen across the battlefield. A lightning rain smashed down on the dead, blasting them and the enemies with them. Some ran, only to be consumed. Others pressed forward and were destroyed. The enemy was consumed by rain and fire from the sky in a mere instant. The battle was won.


    And then it was over. The enemy army was destroyed. Relma felt sick.


    "Hail Relma Artorious!" said Lady Pandora. "Hail the Heir of Kings!"


    "HAIL THE HEIR OF KINGS!" came the cry.


    They had won. But at great cost. Though few of Relma''s friends were killed, her enemies had all died around her. It made her sad.

 Chapter Eleven: Aftermath

    As the cheers of victory continued, Varsus gave orders. The man really did seem like the epitome of the composed and brave knight. With his blonde hair and tall, lean figure, he looked heroic. It was ironic since Reginald had done far better on the battlefield. He and Ham had slain many satyrs and undead, while Varsus had largely focused on command. Still, he looked thoughtfully at Relma when he thought she didn''t see him. Relma felt Varsus was judging her as surely as he was judging him.


    He was the son of Sir Arthur Gabriel, one of the greatest Paladins of his era. But he didn''t seem at all like a Paladin. He didn''t have the kind of light you''d expect. But then William hadn''t had that light either, not in the same way. Maybe Relma had the wrong expectations for them. Either way, people cheered Varsus on where he walked. Aunt Pan was similarly looking at her, and Relma felt awkward here.


    "...I wasn''t aware that Zeya owed Elranor any favors," said Aunt Pan suddenly. "It must have been some recent event. I wonder what it was?" Relma felt that whatever it was, it had nothing to do with her.


    "It is of no present relevance," said Varsus, who seemed to agree. "Men, see to the wounded and get the dead off the walls. I want those plants cleared off now." That sounded like something William would say. But Varsus seemed to mean it more, somehow.


    "Relma, go among the men and heal anyone injured or hurt," said Aunt Pan.


    Relma nodded and moved off. She spent what seemed like hours healing people and accepting pledges of gratitude. Several people clapped her on the back as she walked, and she nearly stumbled. Even so, she managed to heal many of the less wounded people. She left the rest for the more experienced healers. But she heard men whispering that she had healed thousands,


    Relma felt more like the face of a legend than a person in her own right.


    Then the gates opened, and Frederick came through on wolfback. With him were all the other parts of the army. Relma moved down and saw Estela going to meet Frederick. "Lady Estela, I see your steel is as sharp as always," said Frederick, dismounting.


    "Sir Frederick, I''m flattered you think so," said Estela, bowing.


    "Where is Lord Anias?" asked Frederick. "Should he not be here?"


    "Lord Anias is dead, I''m afraid," said Estela. "We''ll explain in private. For now-"


    But at that moment, the woman who''d assigned Relma to the walls grabbed her by the shoulder.


    "Good, you''re here. We''ve got dozens of wounded coming in from the advance force. I''ll need you to tend to the less serious cases." And she moved off before glancing at Relma. "Come quickly, girl! We''ve got no time!"


    Relma blinked. "Yes, ma''am."


    The wounded from the battle were far worse than those on the walls. Some of them were covered in thousands of tiny bites. Their skin had gone an unnatural purplish color, and their breath was short. "What happened to them?" asked Relma.


    "These ones were attacked by the spiders," said the woman. "They''ve got many smaller wounds, and the venom is within them. They aren''t for you." She led her out to a room filled with people suffering from ordinary wounds that weren''t as bad. "These are yours."


    Relma quickly got to work, healing everyone she could. It wasn''t long before she became tired from doing it, feeling the sweat drip from the effort. Channeling the divine was hard work. Then she saw someone she knew. "Ronald?"


    Ronald had several cuts on him, and a blade cut his curly hair unevenly. But he smiled anyway. "Hello, Relma, fancy meeting you here."


    "How went the battle?" asked Relma, setting to work on him.


    "Didn''t you see?" asked Ronald. "We rode them down by the dozens. Of course, then they-"


    At that moment, a man was hurried through on a stretcher. His face was white, and his eyes looked dead. He was hardly breathing. "What happened to him?" said Relma. "There are hardly any wounds on him."


    "He was gripped by the dead," said Ronald. "It''s one of the powers of the Withering, Lucius domain. If you are held by one of its creatures too long, it seeps into you."


    Relma shuddered as she finished. "I have to move on to others. We''ll talk later."


    At the last moment, a girl rushed up to the woman who commanded all of them. She was a very tall elf, with long silver hair tied into a bun above her head and clad all in white. "Healer Atraya."


    "What is it, girl?" asked the woman.


    "The wolf leader requests your aid tending to some of his wolves," said the girl.


    "Wolves?" asked Atraya. "Do I look like a druid? Or a Seer of Laevian?"


    "They are suffering from ails their own healers are hard-pressed to heal." said the girl.


    "The effects of the withering, no doubt," said Atraya. "Very well, let them in. But if my workers are bitten or scratched, they all go out."


    And so the work began anew. Relma was kept plenty busy moving from one wounded person to the next. When she finished the less-wounded, she was simply moved to the next. Finally, it was done, and Atraya took her to one side. "Well, that deals with most of them, I think. You did a reasonably passable job at the whole thing. Reasonably."


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    "What would constitute a good job?" asked Relma.


    "Something out of your reach, I assure you," said Atraya. "Now clean yourself up and get out."


    "Yes, ma''am," said Relma before obeying.


    She''d only made her way out of the healing rooms when she was approached by another familiar face. A girl with dark hair and the ears and tail of a gray wolf, clad in a fur cloak. "I was wondering where I''d find you."


    "Anya, what are you doing here?" asked Relma, remembering their last encounter. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I live in this region, not that it''s any of your business," said Anya. "I would have been content to let this whole region fall, but Ajax convinced me it was in our interest."


    "So you''ve made up, then?" asked Relma, remembering their rivalry. Anya had felt like the unfavorite between her and Ajax. She''d felt that Telix favored Ajax without reason. And Relma, privately, thought she might have had good reason to believe so. Ajax hadn''t struck Relma as a very mature person when they first met. Though Anya had nearly turned Relma into a werewolf as part of that vendetta.


    So Relma would not be saying that to his face. Especially since Anya seemed to have similar problems. Best to stay tactful and keep them working together toward a common goal.


    "No," said Anya, as if surprised she''d even consider the idea.


    So much for that.


    Then again, Anya and Ajax were both much older than they looked. Ajax was born around the time of the Escorian Civil War several generations back. That had been the death of Erik the Voyager, Varsus'' ancestor. As Relma had learned, it had a defining effect on everyone who lived through it.


    Ajax never spoke of those days. Aunt Pandora sometimes did, and Relma felt it was the reason she was so overprotective.


    "Oh, so when did you move here?" asked Relma.


    "I didn''t," said Anya. "My wolves and I were withdrawn to the Wolven Forest on the order of Father. We were expecting a war. When one didn''t happen, we went back home."


    Well, this was awkward. "Well, I''m glad you were here."


    "So am I," said Anya. "With all these satyrs dead, it should be much easier to carve out new territories in this domain. I could lead you, humans, to their strong point.


    "Or it might be better to play the sides."


    "Wouldn''t it be better to stick with your allies?" asked Relma.


    Anya shrugged dismissively. "Humans don''t stick with their allies. When we lived in Escor, House Vortegex pledged our broods territory in the Fair Forest. That is south of the Fairy Hills. We lived there for a hundred years and secured his border against their enemies in the north.


    "Then he defeated those enemies and drove us out. We''ve only a small brood in that region now, hunted by their kind."


    "I''m sorry to hear that," said Relma, meaning it.


    "You being sorry doesn''t change anything," said Anya. "What frustrates me is that we didn''t even get any meat out of this."


    "Meat?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said Anya. "We eat satyrs and humans too, you know. Or at least my pack does. Ajax and his are squeamish about it all."


    "Oh, I see," said Relma, somewhat taken aback.


    "And elves," said Anya. "They''re probably the best meat, but they don''t really give much of it. Also, they tend to put up a better fight than your average human. A much better fight, actually."


    "I''d rather not talk about this," said Relma. Oddly enough, she didn''t mind per se. It was just another culture. Humans always killed humans, so eating them meant the meat wasn''t being wasted. Still, discussing it so openly was probably not a good idea.


    Then Ajax barreled into view, leaping clean over the walls to land before them in a crouch. He stretched and moved forward. "Relma, there you are. The scent of death is so strong I couldn''t find you. Was that you on the battlements with the sword?"


    "Yes, it was," said Relma. "Though it wasn''t me calling the lightning. It was me who drew the sword in the first place.


    "How did Ronald do?"


    "Let me think," said Ajax. "I remember he speared down two satyrs with his lance before he was pulled down. But he got loose and cut their legs out from under them. Then they rose up again as the dead. He was pulled down, but De Cathe and Frederick came quickly to his aid.


    "They hacked their way through dozens of the monsters and pulled them away."


    That sounded... deeply unpleasant, though Relma thought it very impressive. She hoped Ronald wouldn''t expect her to be deeply impressed by it. The thought of those satyrs families learning about their deaths...


    But then, Ronald would have been killed if he hadn''t killed them, and they were the attackers.


    War was terrible, Relma supposed, and that was why she had to become King. To make sure things like this didn''t happen. Or at least that they were kept under control.


    "Where are De Cathe and Frederick now?" asked Relma.


    "Well, Frederick is meeting with Lady Pandora and Varsus," said Ajax. "Last I checked De Cathe was pulled down by the undead." He looked at Anya. "Anya, they wanted to meet with you. Or so, I guess. I''m not interested."


    "Well, I''d hate to keep the sheepherders waiting," said Anya. Then she walked off.


    "Sheepherders?" asked Relma.


    "A name for humans," said Ajax. "I heard the Lord was dead before the battle started. Know anything about that?"


    "He tried to steal Lightning Trail and died before I could stop him," said Relma.


    "Oh good," said Ajax in relief. "I was afraid something less pleasant happened. Well, on the brighter side, things should be easier when going through the Black Marsh. We''ve killed a great many satyrs today, and the others won''t be in a hurry to challenge us."


    "What were you doing all this time anyway?" asked Relma.


    "Well, after I headed on ahead, I started moving through the wilderness, trying to sort things out," said Ajax. "Lucius has been gathering support from the various satyr clans. They were trying to get them into his service.


    "Those we fought here were the first to rally to his banner. Several braves from every clan were sent for this. While they mobilized, I got in contact with Frederick and De Cathe. I led them by some of the secret ways in the Black Marshes.


    "By the time they arrived here, we were fast behind them."


    "But what did the satyrs want?" asked Relma.


    "All of them drank a poison supplied by Lucius before going into battle," said Ajax. "I saw their warlocks brewing it. Even if they hadn''t all died here, they would have died abroad."


    Relma stared at him. That didn''t make sense. "Why?"


    "They wanted to die, obviously," said Ajax.


    "Okay, but why did they want to die?" asked Relma.


    "It was a sacrifice to Lucius," said Ajax. "He''s their ultimate ancestor and so worthy of their total loyalty. He asked them to die, so they did. They just decided to do it while hurting their enemies."


    "That''s horrible," said Relma.


    Ajax shrugged. "It''s the way they live. They don''t care about survival as long as they spill blood in the name of their gods."


    "But why would Lucius order them to die?" asked Relma.


    "I don''t know. I''m not a sorcerer or a demonic archon," said Ajax. "If you want the exact reason, ask Pandora. I''m sure she has theories upon theories. All of them wrong."


    "You should tell Aunt Pan about this," said Relma. "This could be important."


    "Fine then, let''s go," said Ajax.


    Wait, she was going, too? She guessed it was important.


    "Hail Relma, Heir of Kings!" called someone.


    "I wish they''d stop doing that," said Relma.


    "So do I. I can hear it a mile away." snapped Ajax.


    Well, at least she wasn''t suffering alone. Now, all Relma had to do was end the suffering entirely.

 Chapter Twelve: Revelation

    To Relma''s surprise, Edmund De Cathe was there with Aunt Pan and Frederick, looking unhappy. He looked a bit pale and was sitting down with healers around him. But he was leaning on his sword as though resting upon it. His beard had been cut shorter since the last Relma had seen him, and his hair a bit longer. He nodded to her as she approached. "Lady Relma, it has been months. I am glad you and Estela both continue to advance."


    "Sir De Cathe," said Relma, bowing. "Thank you for your help."


    "I did what I could," said De Cathe somberly. "That will have to be enough."


    "Is Ronald well?" asked Frederick, removing a cloak with several tears. "I haven''t had a chance to check with him. I fear I''ll have to mend my cloak if his injury keeps him from duty."


    "I healed his injuries," said Relma. "He''ll be fine."


    "Good. The boy is invaluable to me," said Frederick.


    "Yes, yes, very nice," said Ajax impatiently. "Now, can we get to the point?"


    "Ajax, I believe you have some news for us?" asked Pandora.


    "I did," said Ajax. "While in the Black Marshes, I discovered some exciting things. I know all about the sacrifices these satyrs performed."


    "How did you learn that?" asked Relma.


    "I asked one of the chieftains," said Ajax. "Each village yielded a certain amount of young men to Lucius. In exchange, they were granted good harvests and luck in the hunt. Or something along those lines.


    "Meanwhile, the lifeforce of their bodies was sent away somewhere else."


    "Del Gabor," said De Cathe gravely.


    When he said that name, Relma shuddered. Aunt Pan looked at him seriously. "De Cathe? Why do you say that name?"


    "While we were with Lord Anton, we spoke with several Dust Elven traders," said De Cathe. "They said that Del Gabor had been occupied. Lights had been seen in the fortress for the first time in centuries."


    "I heard of this," said Frederick. "But you''re wrong. There have been brave travelers who camped within the fortress. I did it myself once, and I''m alive."


    "The dead walk again," said De Cathe. "Here and in the Dusk Lands. There must be a source, as there are with all magics of Withering. What better place?"


    Aunt Pan remained silent a moment. "...It may be that Lucius has taken up residence in Del Gabor once again. That castle is powerful, situated upon the ley lines of the spirit world. It could drain lifeforce from so far away.


    "But to what end?" asked Frederick. "To unleash demons."


    Aunt Pan shook her head. "No. Lucius shares the company of demons, but he does not use them in battle. He prefers to wield creatures of the world to achieve his ends.


    "Or perhaps of another world."


    "What do you mean?" asked Ajax.


    Aunt Pan paused for only a moment as if contemplating what to say. Then she spoke. "...Del Gabor was not always a domain of Withering. Long ago, the fortress belonged to the Dust Elven Empire of old, which preceded Calisha. The Dust Elves did not have the same numbers as the High Elves. But they compensated for this through a series of gates linked with the spirit world.


    "The art for making them is now lost. But one was situated in Del Gabor. They had much trade with the High Elves under King Anasar. The fortress itself survived a siege by Anoa but fell into disuse. It was abandoned when the Dust Elves retreated into Calisha to deal with Baltoth.


    "That was when Lucius took hold of it. Though he was driven out, it seems he has returned. Lucius may seek to use it for his own ends. He despises all elves, and it would please him to use their own devices to wipe them out."


    "Where would he open such a gate from?" asked De Cathe.


    "I do not know," admitted Aunt Pan. "The technique required two devices in different places. But Lucius is ancient indeed. He may have devised a means to do so with only one gate. Or perhaps he constructed another one.


    "Or, he may have found one that was not destroyed. Though I find that last one doubtful."


    "Why?" asked Relma, fascinated by all this.


    "The Dust Elves guarded the secret of their gates seriously," said Aunt Pan. "Their entire empire relied on it. The gate in Del Gabor was built to facilitate trade. Dust Elves would come out of it and trade all over Harlenor, then return another way. That was when Laevian was still friendly to Alchara and her high elves.


    "Baltoth knew the gates were the key to the Dust Elves'' power. So he went out of his way to destroy them all while killing those who knew the craft. He was all too successful, I''m afraid.


    "The Del Gabor gate likely survived because Baltoth had no regional power. Anoa II accepted the Dust Elven refugees hoping to learn their craft. But nothing came of that."


    "So what now?" asked De Cathe.


    "There is nothing for it," said Aunt Pan. "Whatever Lucius'' plans are, they are probably centered on Del Gabor. I''ll have to go there and disrupt them if I can. Or at least get an idea of what he is doing."


    "We''ll help you," said De Cathe. "I''ll have to go through the Dusk Lands anyway, so it''s on the way. And Lucius has already thrown down the gauntlet with us. I expect Princess Estela will agree to do so."


    "Well, then, we should go as soon as we are packed," said Aunt Pan. "Time is of the essence."


    "I may have a way we can speed through more quickly," said Ajax.


    Aunt Pan looked at him in surprise. "How?"


    "Well, I mentioned some secret way through the marshes," said Ajax. "The ones I took Frederick and De Cathe through? It was through the Road of Ancient Stone."


    "What?" said Aunt Pan.


    "I''ve traveled many paths," said Ajax. "And our broods have learned to use it to move quickly when the time comes. That''s why nobody noticed Anya''s brood moving to the Wolven Forest.


    "If we take the Road, I should be able to get us within sight of Del Gabor in a day."


    "A dangerous suggestion. Ajax," said Aunt Pan, "Frederick, what are your views on this?"


    "The road was filled with peril, and we lost some men," said Frederick. "But it got us through very quickly. I believe Ajax can do it."


    "Indeed," said De Cathe. "He did not lead us astray before."


    Aunt Pan sighed. "Then, I will trust him in this."


    Then, there was a knock on the door, and someone entered. Pandora looked up. "What is it?"


    "Your pardon, Lady Pandora, but the healers require your aid," said a man.


    "What is the trouble?" asked Pandora.


    "We''ve found that some of those touched by the dead are fading." said the man. "We can''t seem to break the spell."


    "Then, I will tend to them immediately. Excuse me," said Aunt Pan.


    "I''ll go with you," said Relma.


    Relma hurried out after Aunt Pan, trying to keep up with her fast steps. Finally getting up beside her, she looked up. "Do you think they''ll be alright, Aunt Pan?"


    "I don''t know," admitted Aunt Pan. "I will try to save them. But Lucius may have set his will too strong on them. De Cathe only received a small amount, and he is stronger of will than many."


    They moved to find the sick and found them resting. Their faces were all pale, and they were shuddering. Some were coughing up blood even as the healers worked. Pandora quickly set to work, channeling magic into them as best she could. Relma was assigned secondary jobs, getting water for them and easing their pain.


    Aunt Pan''s method of healing was different from Relma''s. She focused on rallying the power of the person to heal themselves. Relma, meanwhile, was pouring divine energy directly into them. Hours passed as they worked, and all of those Aunt Pan worked on got some color back in them. But they still looked terrible.


    "I''ve done all I can," said Aunt Pan. "I have slowed their descent. But the curse is very strong on them. Some may survive, but I''m afraid it will only be the strong ones."


    "Isn''t there anything we can do?" asked Relma, wanting to help them.


    "If we destroy the power of Del Gabor again, Lucius will probably have to draw back his will," said Aunt Pan. "That may be far more difficult than any of us can achieve."


    Then Relma came up with an idea, remembering an old friend. Or an enemy. Sort of both. "What about Wrynncurth?"


    Aunt Pan looked up in surprise. "Hmm?"


    "Well, I mean, Adrian Wrynncurth is friends with Telix, isn''t he?" asked Relma. "So why don''t we message him and ask him for help?" S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Pan nodded. "It may be worth considering.


    "Still, Black Dragons do not like going far from their hoards. Their spirits are bound to them. The Dusk Lands is a very long way away. I doubt Wrynncurth will risk it. Especially since I suspect, he may have had dealings with Lucius in the past."


    "We should at least try," said Relma. "He might be able to do something to help. He is a powerful sorcerer, after all."


    "That I suppose he is," said Pandora.


    Relma was silent, feeling the weight of today on her now more than ever. The sun was setting now. "Aunt Pan, if nothing else, I''d like to see Ronald."


    "Very well then, go to him," said Aunt Pan. "I''m sorry to keep you away from your friend."


    Then, there was a surging of will. Relma did not know why, but someone was dragged into the room on a stretcher. It was Ronald, and he was as pale as all the rest. Aunt Pan moved to him, trying to set to work. Relma went by his side.


    "Ronald, are you alright?" Relma asked, knowing the answer. His eyes were dark. How had this happened? He''d been fine the last time they talked.


    "Hello, Relma," said Ronald, voice holding false cheer. "Did you see me on the battlefield?"


    "No, I missed it," said Relma. Had he forgotten they''d seen each other earlier. "But they told me you were very brave."


    "Good. I''m glad I..." He fell backward.


    "Ronald?!" said Relma. "Aunt Pan, what happened?"


    "Lucius has set his will on him very hard," said Aunt Pan. "The curse he was under wasn''t as strong, but the will of Lucius is enhancing it."


    "I''m sorry, I''m just feeling cold," said Ronald. "Very cold...."


    Lucius was targeting Ronald directly now? Why? Was it just to get at her? What had she done to him? "You''ve been cursed. But don''t worry. I''m going to fix this." said Relma. "I''ll fix it even if I have to knock every stone in Del Gabor to pieces."


    "I know you will," said Ronald, oddly calm.


    Relma blinked. "Really?"


    "Relma, I''ve known you since we were children," said Ronald. "When you say you will do something, you do it." Then he fell still.


    "He was fine just a moment ago," said Relma.


    "I know," said Aunt Pan before looking up. "You, girl, find everyone who was touched by the dead. Bring them to the healers whether they want it or not. They may relapse."


    Relma felt sick. "Aunt Pan..."


    "Yes?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "Do you think there will be another Age of Withering?" asked Relma. She remembered the old stories that were told of the last one. It was a time when the dead rose from their graves. They wandered the world, and those touched by them were beset by sickness.


    It had been an endless war. And no one ever said how it had ended.


    "I don''t know. I hope not," said Aunt Pan. "The Dusklands have been barren for ages because of the war fought there. The ground itself is infused with unholy energies. That makes it an ideal place to practice necromancy."


    "But why would Lucius be after me?" asked Relma. "Why would he target Ronald?"


    "Perhaps as a hostage," said Aunt Pan. "Or perhaps to kill you and prevent the prophecy from coming true.


    "Either one would please Lucius."


    "This is really serious, isn''t it?" asked Relma. "This... this could threaten all of Harlenor, couldn''t it?"


    "Perhaps the world," said Aunt Pan.


    Relma was silent. "Aunt Pan, what was the Age of Withering like? I''ve heard about it. And I''ve heard about places that were once strongholds of the Withering. I''ve read mentions of it. But none of the stories ever go into detail."


    Pandora sighed. "...Listen, Relma, there were many gods at the beginning of this universe, but there was only one demon. A being of incredible power and malice. For a long time, he was helpless to influence creation. But when Lucius did what he did, he allowed this demon to enter the world.


    "The demon''s name was Diabolus.


    "All seven demonic archons came from him. And from all of them came all the demons of hell. Baltoth, Fortenex, Zigildrazia, Amysta, Coinfurth, Typhos, and Lucius."


    "But Lucius existed before, didn''t he?" asked Relma.


    "He did," said Aunt Pan. "The other demonic archons were born. Lucius was transformed. But he was ultimately human, capable of good and evil. While the sin he was infused with was pure envy, there was a... divide in his being.


    "On the one hand, there is Lucius. Lucius the Eternal. He walked among the dead and dying places of the world. Very courteous, very restrained. Capable of kindness as well as cruelty. And yet there is also the Withering.


    "It is a manifestation of entropy itself. It corrupts things that exist in mockeries of their true nature. And those mockeries seek to tear down that from which they have their source. Vampires, wraiths, zombies, and all other undead were formed from the Withering.


    "And it is all around us.


    "The other demonic archons have no stake in the world, Relma. They exist in hell and can only enter when a mortal allows them entrance. Baltoth got around this by becoming the God of Order. But he took on the positive aspects of that pantheon when he ascended.


    "But Lucius...


    "Lucius was born of this world, of every world. He cannot be banished. He cannot be killed.


    "And I don''t know what he wants.


    "That''s what scares me, Relma. The other archons have a rhyme, reason, and objectives they want to achieve. Things they will and won''t do, but Lucius doesn''t have any of that. He just does things as they occur to him."


    "It''ll be fine, Aunt Pan. We''ll win," said Relma, not feeling as confident as she''d like.


    "I hope we will, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "For your sake."


    Relma had a bad feeling about this. But she wasn''t about to let that determine her destiny.

 Chapter Thirteen: The Demonic Archons

    The morning after, the victory celebrations were completed rapidly. Relma didn''t have time to join the festivities or funerals. She observed the burning of the dead but didn''t participate in the mass drinking during the wake. The corpses of the satyrs and dead were burned in a pile, while the dead of Harlenor were given to their families. Others were burned in Haldrenian fashion, burned on pyres.


    The men were assembled from House Gabriel and House De Chevlon. Fayn was with them as well. As Relma approached Estela, however, the greeting was somewhat cold. Relma could tell by Estela''s expression that she was not happy. "Well, Relma, how nice of you to tell me about all the secret meetings you attended on my mission."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "You met with De Cathe, Pandora, Ajax, and Frederick," said Estela. "In that meeting, you decided things about the mission. They designed an entire strategy, and I wasn''t there."


    "I was there, Estela," said Relma, slightly nervous. "But I was just there following Ajax. He got the summons and asked me to come with him.


    "I didn''t even say anything at the meeting aside from asking questions."


    "Then what is this about calling Wrynncurth in?" asked Estela.


    "I suggested it to Aunt Pan, is all," said Relma. "But that wasn''t in the meeting, and she made her own decisions."


    "Why wasn''t I invited?" asked Estela, sounding offended. "I should have been consulted. It is my quest."


    Relma could see her point. Estela had always been sensitive about rank and the proper dignity of her family. But there wasn''t nothing Relma could say to her other than what she had already said. Fortunately, Aunt Pan arrived. She walked in quickly, clad for travel in practical clothes. "Yes, you should have."


    "Lady Pandora," said Estela.


    "I would like to apologize, Princess Estela," said Pandora. "The truth is that everyone was incredibly shaken by what happened. A person in my position has the unique privilege of meeting with various lords. I should speak to them about the coming of Lucius.


    "I was considering only the matter of Lucius, however. It did not occur to me that as this was your quest, to begin with, you ought to be consulted."


    Estela seemed mollified by what happened. "...Very well. Let''s just put the matter behind us." So they gathered at the gate and prepared for the marshes. Ajax was there soon, Anya having returned in the night. Sir Frederick came to see them off. "Are you sure you don''t want to take a larger force than this, Lady Pandora?" he asked.


    "I am certain, Sir Frederick," said Aunt Pan. "Lucius'' stronghold will not be defended by flesh and blood. And if we fail, you will be needed here to defend this place."


    "I understand," said Frederick.


    And they were off.


    Relma soon realized that she had also been cut out of the loop. Estela had apparently made general plans for the journey with Ajax. De Cathe had been there as the general outline of their road was decided.


    "So Ajax, where is this path you mean to take us by?" asked Fayn.


    "It''s a little way into the Black Marshes," said Ajax. "On a little-traveled part of the land." Relma soon learned why it was little traveled when they entered. Flies buzzed around them in a neverending tide. The water was murky, and Ajax led them on a zigzagging road. Varsus had arranged for men with long poles to check ahead of them so no one plunged in. Relma wished she''d had one before; it might have stopped her from taking several falls.


    "Ugh, these flies are everywhere," said Estela. "How do you bear this place?"


    "It is a marsh," said Ajax. "And Anya bears it because it allows us to contact with the satyr chieftains. There are some drier regions, and that''s where everyone lived. This part of the marsh was flooded a long time ago, though. Father needs this territory. In time, he hopes to subjugate the satyrs and bring them into the fold."


    "Not much to bring," muttered Fayn.


    "Actually, I think their way of life is much easier to understand than humans," said Ajax. "They kill people they don''t like, devour what they can, and destroy what they can''t use.


    "It''s a bit wasteful but far closer to nature than those castles you make."


    "And that''s why they are in the marshes, and we humans are building a civilization," said Estela.


    "Being close to nature means your species hasn''t grown up."


    "Do not belittle nature, Princess Estela," said Aunt Pan. "It became cruel because we mortals taught it cruelty. Once, it was harmony."


    Ajax laughed hysterically, and Aunt Pan turned to glare at him. "Something funny, Ajax?"


    "Your belief system," said Ajax. "Nature isn''t a harmony where all things stand in perfect equilibrium. Nature is hell on earth. It is billions of species scratching and tearing to ensure their own survival. The strong thrive, and the weak are but food.


    "We accept this fact and know that it is as it should be.


    "You mortals are the ones'' who gave plants and animals names. You put out a neat little chart and said, ''This is how things are.'' Or, alternatively, ''this is how things should be''. The universe is eternal chaos, and only the individual''s will may define it."


    "The will of the individual is why nature became cruel," said Aunt Pan. "Mortals chose to separate their will from the path of good. In so doing, they set a chain of events that led to things falling away from the right road.


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    "What you call the natural state of things in a fallen world. Devoid of the glory it once possessed."


    "Spare me." scoffed Fayn. "There is no glory save through triumph. No victory except through the defeat of your enemies. Without the weak, how would one measure the strong? Hardship and struggle are how virtue is attained. Without it, we are nothing."


    "Maybe there has to be a balance between good and evil," suggested Reginald. "If one grows too strong, the world suffers."


    Everyone stared at him.


    "What?" said Reginald.


    "That''s got to be the stupidest thing I''ve ever heard, Reginald," said Fayn.


    "What''s so wrong about it?" asked Reginald.


    "First of all, evil is not a natural state of being that provides some essential service," said Aunt Pan. "If it did provide something humans needed, it would be good. Evil is corruption, taking something great and wonderful and twisting it. Usually into something that only harms."


    "Then why are demons so successful?" asked Reginald.


    "Diabolus, the Demon King, never accomplished anything alone," said Aunt Pan. "To do harm, he had to corrupt Lucius. From there, he created the Seven Demonic Archons. But the Demonic Archons are dangerous for their virtues, not their vices.


    "Zigildrazia possessed the ability to forge new and beautiful things. She used it to create devices of torment. Baltoth is a master strategist who can inspire others to do great deeds, and he made Calisha. Fortenex is courageous and cunning. Typhos holds excellent loyalty to her children. Lucius is a highly talented schemer without whom much evil would have never happened. Coinfurth''s talent for managing finances allowed him to create one of the richest nations.


    "And Amysta... well..."


    "Yes?" said Relma. "What about Amysta?"


    "I can''t actually think of any virtues Amysta had, but I''m sure she must have had some," said Aunt Pan. "And she was the first of them to fall, so in a way, it helps my point.


    "Evil creatures that triumph do so because of the good aspects of their natures. They are merely turned to a vile purpose. It is a parasite, and destroying it would be better for everyone without downsides."


    "I have studied some of the tales of Amysta," said Varsus, breaking his silence. "She was very creative in a great many horrible things."


    "The point is that the Demonic Archons are dangerous because of their good aspects," said Aunt Pan, "Not the bad. A being wholly consumed in sin would be a fat, lazy hedonist. One who spent all his time looking in mirrors and making plans for revenge for apparent slights. Plans that would never go through because they would need to be more active and competent to achieve them.


    "Diabolus only became a threat when Lucius joined him."


    "Quiet; I need to focus on this next part," said Ajax, striding ahead.


    They had come to a part of the marsh where the water had a strange, purplish color. The plants here were misshapen with many vines. There were beautiful flowers on the water, of yellow color. But as they floated, a strange vapor seemed to rise from them.


    "What is this place, Ajax?" asked Relma, feeling uneasy.


    "The Black Heart," said Ajax. "It''s where most of my poisons come from. No one can navigate it except for me. And perhaps my wolves. Anya never comes here."


    "Why are wolves the only ones who can go through here, Ajax?" asked Estela.


    "There are a lot of dangers here that you can''t see with your eyes," said Ajax. "I can smell them, though." He sniffed a bit. "Follow me."


    And so they began again. As they walked, the water got deeper and the heat worse. Ajax led them on a winding path, changing routes often. The flies disappeared, but Relma wasn''t sure that was a good thing. Though it certainly felt like one. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Why are we taking such a route?" asked Varsus, who had hardly spoken on the journey except to give orders.


    "Within this place is where the entrance to the Road lies," said Ajax. "Lucius hid it well. Now come, follow in my footsteps. And don''t turn away to either side. If you fall in, you may never get out."


    So they formed up into a single file line and marched. Soon, the water was up to their waists, and the heat was unbearable. They went, drinking from their waterskins and wiping sweat from their brows. Then Ajax halted suddenly and raised a hand. "Stop."


    "What is it?" asked Varsus.


    "Back up," said Ajax.


    "What do you-" began Varsus.


    "Back up now!" said Ajax.


    They backed up frantically, and several people almost fell in. They hadn''t gotten far before the water where they''d been exploded upward in a geyser. Clouds of green rose into the air as Ajax looked on.


    "What was that?" asked Relma.


    "A gas released from certain parts of the bog," said Ajax. "It is very poisonous. Come, we''d best take another way."


    After that narrow escape, everyone was a bit jumpy. But they had no more adventures, and soon, the ground became firmer. Eventually, they started to walk on little islands of grass. Though they would still end up plunging back in, Relma found this far preferable. It even became less blistering.


    "Once we get to the Road, we''ll have to journey underground for a bit," said Ajax. "I should be able to bring us up within sight of Del Gabor.''


    And then Relma saw something. It was a statue showing a man but with the head of a vulture. The wings of an eagle were above his hands, and a long spiked tail came from him. Pillars were on either side and looking at them fascinated and terrified her.


    "What is that?" asked Estela.


    "Don''t look at it," said Ajax quickly. "Keep your eyes focused on the ground in front of you.''


    "But what is it?" asked Estela.


    "A shrine," said Ajax as they walked. "A shrine to Melchious. The satyrs have worshipped him for victory in war since the fall of the elven homelands. This region used to be all plains. That was before the disaster in the Dusk Lands sent all the water south. Here and there, you can find remnants of the old cities.


    "Don''t make eye contact. Some say that he can see through the eyes of the statues."


    "It''s familiar, somehow," realized Relma. "I feel like I''ve met him before.''


    "If you had, you''d know, dear," said Aunt Pan.


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma, not feeling any different. She did know it.


    "Melchious is not pleasant company," said Aunt Pan.


    Estela had seen Melchious during the wars in Khasmir, hadn''t she? "Estela, does that look anything like he did when you saw him?" asked Relma.


    Estela shook her head, putting her hand on her sword. "It doesn''t. But Melchious takes many forms."


    And then they came to the cave. The mouth was low so they had to bend down to get in, but it seemed to get taller further in as it sloped down. Ajax drew out some rope and passed it to Varsus. "Here we are.


    "I want all of you to tie part of the rope around yourselves. We''ll walk through together." "Is this necessary?" asked Estela, taking it.


    "Yes. If we don''t-" began Ajax.


    Then arrows surged out of the air and landed among them. Relma saw dozens of satyrs scaling up the bank toward them. Everyone drew their swords as arrows bounced off their armor, and the satyrs neared.


    "Blood for the Unborn God! Carnage for Melchious! Victory for Lucius!" cried a satyr in their own language.


    "Raise your shields!" called Varsus. "Defend!"


    Their shields were locked as the satyrs came up after them. Relma took her own place, raising her shield and holding her sword. She hoped she wouldn''t have to kill anyone. Reginald was next to her, and Estela was on the other side.


    The satyrs hit the shield wall, and Relma warded off a satyr strike from above. The force of the blow against her shield made her arm go numb. Another threw her off her feet, but Estela closed the gap as she fell. Reginald ran the satyr through, parried another thrust, and cut another down.


    "For House De Chevlon!"


    "For the Golden Serpent!"


    "For House Vortegex!"


    More satyrs pressed up against them as Relma rose up. She decided she''d stay behind the line and heal anyone hurt. The satyrs'' assault was held at bay, and several had been killed already. But arrows were lancing from the trees above.


    One of them caught a man in the chink between the armor, and he fell backward. Relma ran to his side, but Aunt Pan was there first. Another man was stricken across the head. He fell backward, and this one Relma got to before, channeling the power of Elranor into healing him. Bodies were piling up, and they weren''t rising from the dead.


    Then Ajax appeared among the archers in the trees. He snapped one of their necks, tore out two throats, and sent the fourth falling to his death. The others broke and fled, and the satyr advance seemed to lose interest. At last, they broke and ran off.


    No one had been killed, though Relma had had to heal several serious injuries.


    "How could they be waiting for us here?" asked Fayn, whose axe was notched. "I thought you said no one else knew the way."


    "No one else does know the way," said Ajax. "But we''re not in the Black Heart anymore. Lucius could have had them go through one of the other entrances and come out here to wait."


    "We should go on through regardless," said Varsus.


    "Varsus, what are you saying?" asked Reginald. "We could be facing an entire army in there."


    "Time is running out," said Varsus. "I can feel it. If we fail in our mission, there could be a full-scale war. We have to get to Del Gabor soon."


    "Varsus is right," said Pandora. "We are past the point of finding alternatives."


    "Fine then," said Ajax. "Get the rope."


    What did they need a rope for?

 Chapter Fourteen: The Ancestor

    Into the cave they went and down into the cold earth. The sun''s light soon faded behind them and was replaced by a sphere of light. Varsus and several of his men were trained to wield the sun spirit, and orbs of light appeared in their hands. They illuminated the passages ahead of them and allowed them to move on. Even so, it was bitterly chilly, and Relma didn''t like it at all.


    "Why are there so many in your group with a connection to the Sun Spirit?" asked Estela. As she walked, she adjusted her cloak.


    "It is a useful trait to have in war," said Varsus. "So I give higher wages to anyone who can wield them. William has always had a head for that kind of thing."


    "All of you stay close to the lights," said Ajax, at the head of the group, voice a light growl. "And don''t look too deeply into the darkness. The Road of Ancient Stone is connected to the world of turmoil and hells. Passages change and shift.


    "Keep on as you go." Something moved in the dark, and Relma looked after it. Then she remembered Ajax''s warning and looked away. She wished she weren''t so curious.


    "We may be followed," said Aunt Pan, falling to the back, her staff tapping little echoes against the floor. "Give me a moment; then, we''ll continue." As the last of their company passed them, Aunt Pan raised a hand and channeled something. The passageway behind them shuddered and blurred, and there was a grinding noise. A moment later, all light from the sun was gone. They were now in utter darkness, save for the spheres created by the power of the sun spirit.


    Aunt Pan turned back to them, her face a bit white.


    "Aunt Pan, what did you do?" asked Relma.


    "I shifted the passages around a little," said Aunt Pan. As she spoke, she shuddered and nearly dropped her staff. "We should not have to concern ourselves with them." They walked back to the front, where everyone had halted.


    "You shifted the passages?" asked Ajax, sounding impressed, having. "I''ve never been able to manage that."


    "You have," said Aunt Pan, leaning against a wall. "Walking through the Road of Ancient Stone is as much a spiritual journey as a physical one. You''ve probably been carving your own path unintentionally. You just did it so long that a routine was created, and you made the same path by reflex."


    "I found my way through the first time just fine," said Ajax. Then he led them on.


    For a while, they walked in the dark. None of them talked; it didn''t seem the kind of place where talking was wise. Varsus made sure no one fell behind as Ajax led them on. Eventually, they came to a crossroads, and he kneeled to touch the ground. He sniffed.


    "What is it?" asked Relma.


    "A large contingent of satyrs passed through here," said Ajax. "The stink of them is still here. No one I know, though. These are of a different kind." Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Ajax, you know the satyrs, don''t you?" said Relma.


    "Yes," said Ajax. "Why?"


    "That army we killed was huge, and we''ve killed more of them outside," said Relma. "And now there are more roaming these halls. How can there be so many?"


    "Satyrs have a short lifecycle," said Ajax. "They are physically mature at the age of ten and most rarely see fifty. Satyr women are expected to have as many children as possible. And those who are barren become priestesses of their gods and perform sacrifices.


    "They don''t have marriages or mates. Children are conceived in ritual orgies."


    "How did you learn all this?" asked Estela. "I mean, do you know satyrs?"


    "I''ve known the clans in this area for years," said Ajax, continuing his march. "But that''s all the moot point. I''ve never smelled any satyr clan like this. Most of them use distinctive forms of makeup that I can tell them by.


    "Not these."


    "This is absurd," said Reginald suddenly.


    "What is?" asked Relma.


    "Why has Gel Carn let these animals grow up repeatedly?" asked Reginald. His hand was on his sword, and he looked furious.


    "What would you do, Reginald?" asked Varsus.


    "Invade the Black Marshes and purge them all," said Reginald. "Wipe them out and take the land for humanity. Our forefathers did that in Antion, Escor, and Haldren."


    "That is all easy to say, but I expect it would be far more difficult than that, Reginald," said Varsus. Reaching out, he grabbed Reginald''s hand and drew it away. "Besides, the land is a disease-ridden cesspit."


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    "Permanent solutions are better than stop-gap measures," said Reginald. "And the marshes could be filled in."


    "The satyrs came to the Black Marshes after the death of Anoa IX," said Aunt Pan. "In those days, Gel Carn was in absolute chaos. While Harlenor was tearing itself apart, the satyrs grew in number.


    "Gel Carn is not as strong as you think, Reginald. It is still recovering from the devastation of endless war. And the Demon Lord Adrianeth is a threat to the south.


    "And genocide is never something to be sought."


    "I think I like the idea," muttered Fayn, which was pretty typical for her.


    "Fayn?" asked Relma, feeling horrified more out of habit than surprise.


    "We could get the armies of Antion down here and move in," said Fayn. "Ajax and his wolves could act as our guide, and we could root them out once and for all."


    "I wouldn''t help you, even if I thought it would work. No offense," said Ajax.


    "They''re just animals," scoffed Fayn.


    "So are you," noted Ajax.


    "I wouldn''t support it either," said Estela. "It wouldn''t be right to kill children."


    "What do you think happens in war?" asked Reginald. "Every time a village gets burned down, children die. Plenty more get separated from their parents and sold into slavery."


    "Just because it happens doesn''t make it right," said Estela. Relma wondered if she''d say the same thing about her hated enemies in Escor. People weren''t always consistent, after all.


    "Quiet, all of you, we''re coming to a place where the passages intersect," said Ajax. "And I smell many other passages. Varsus order the men to hold up.


    "Only a few of us should go ahead."


    "Hold," said Varsus to his men. Then he dimmed his sphere. "Who would you recommend?"


    "I''ll go ahead of the group myself," said Ajax, rolling his shoulders as if working out a kink. "Pandora, come with me."


    "When did he start giving the orders?" muttered Reginald.


    "He does know the terrain," said Varsus.


    Relma suddenly had an impulse. A sense that she had to do something very important here. So she stepped forward. "I''m going with you."


    "Fine, come on," said Ajax.


    "No, you will not," said Aunt Pan. "I sense... something. A terrible presence."


    "Please, Aunt Pan," said Relma. "I feel I have to see this."


    Aunt Pan met her gaze and held it for a moment. At last, she sighed. "...Very well."


    So, the three of them crept forward through the passages. Aunt Pan used a more subtle light to illuminate their path this time so they could barely see outlines. Soon enough, they found other passages, joined this one, and found broken shoes and bits of leather. At last, they came into a vast open chamber, and before them, down a slope, was a vast army of satyrs. They stretched out on and on, and Relma was stunned.


    Ajax pulled her down beneath some stones, and they looked out over the silent army. They stood deathly still, so Relma wondered if they were statues. And yet more were marching from other passages. They were shorter than those Relma had fought and thicker of the body with paler skin. Their beards were cut short and were neater. They wielded spears to the man and had huge shields.


    "I''ve never seen so many satyrs in one place," said Relma, feeling a sense of awe. She''d never seen this many people of any kind in one place. "How did such numbers gather?"


    "I remember that some small clans went into the mountains some years ago. They said they were obeying the will of Lucius in some pilgrimage," said Ajax, sniffing the air. "I led them a way in but parted ways once we crossed into Smyngoth''s Mountain. I won''t go in there, but they did.


    "I''d always figured they''d died off."


    "How long ago was this?" asked Relma.


    "Seventy years, I think," said Ajax.


    "They are different from most satyrs," said Aunt Pan. "They are shorter and broader of body. Like dwarves." Her tone was concerned, and she seemed to be afraid of something.


    "Not nearly so small," noted Ajax. "They walk with a stoop instead."


    And then, something appeared atop a great stone at the far end of the cavern. It was hard to describe. It was like a void with a cloak wrapped around it. Nothing could be seen beneath the hood, but not in the sense that nothing was there. It was Nothing in a very final sense.


    "What is that?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan had gone white. "Lucius."


    The cloaked nothingness raised a single-robed hand, and a gauntlet emerged. As he did, the satyrs broke into howls and cheers. Their spears were raised in a deafening noise.


    "My children!" called Lucius. "You have given your lives in the name of the unborn god! You have sent your children into the fire in the name of Melchious! You have slashed and killed in the name of the Withering!


    "For generations, you have bred within the underworld, preparing for the day of return!


    "Now we stand upon the threshold of a great opportunity! The last domain of the Dust Elves in the west now lies above us! They know nothing of our coming, and we will give them no time to know!


    "Go now! Rise above the ground! Bring forth the wrath of Lucius upon the Dusk Lands!"


    "Blood for the unborn god!" called someone, perhaps a leader. "Blood for Zigildrazia! Blood for Melchious! BLOOD FOR THE ANCESTOR!"


    "BLOOD FOR THE ANCESTOR!!" screamed the satyrs.


    "We''ve got to get back to Varsus," said Aunt Pan. "This army cannot be allowed to reach the Dusk Lands."


    "How could we stop it?" asked Ajax. "We''ll have to go through here. They''ll just set a rearguard and keep us back while they head on through." So, even if they fought them, they might not succeed. And it would be a death sentence.


    And this was it ¡ª the critical moment. Relma felt she was about to do something incredibly stupid, but it was the only way to draw off the army. And she knew that her chance to act would be gone if she did not act now.


    "Ajax, go back ahead to Varsus. Now," said Relma.


    "Why-"began Ajax.


    And then Relma stood up and raised Lightning Trail into the air. It flared to brilliant light to engulf the entire chamber, so the satyrs drew back. Relma took this to be a mark of approval. Lucius, however, stood still, looking on what might have been bemusement. "Hear me Lucius, I am the Heir of Kings, and I set my will against you!"


    Dead silence. If this worked, they''d all charge after Relma. These passages were all chokepoints, so Varsus would be able to stalemate them. And Fayn''s abilities would be that much more effective. If they dragged the battle out long enough, the satyrs would probably lose cohesion. At the very least, they could beat a fighting retreat and delay the invasion.


    Lucius raised a hand, and the light of Lightning Trail lessened as Relma felt a terrible chill. The satyr''s eyes seemed to glow as they advanced. Then Lucius motioned, and all light from the sword was quenched. Only the light of Aunt Pan''s sphere remained. "...Send a contingent after them. The rest of you carry on with the march."


    There was howling, and part of the force broke off to charge at them. Relma, Ajax, and Aunt Pan made a run for it.


    "Relma, you idiot!" said Ajax.


    Relma was not sure what she had accomplished. But she hoped it would work out for the best.

 Chapter Fifteen: Holding the Line

    "Blood for the Unborn God! Blood for the Ancestor!" went the calls behind them.


    The three of them sprinted through the darkness, followed by the howls and gnashing of teeth. The stone beneath their feet was rough. Relma stumbled over a loose stone as she ran, only for Aunt Pan to steady her and shove her onward. Ajax slid to a halt in a particularly narrow part of the tunnels as they did. Halting here, he howled at the satyrs, who paused before him with blades raised and returning the howl. It was a savage sight, and Relma wondered who was the more formidable. Ajax looked terrifying, more like a wolf than ever.


    "This area is narrow," said Aunt Pan. "Relma, go get Varsus; tell him to bring his forces down here. We''ll hold the breach here."


    "Are you sure-" began Relma.


    "Just go, now!" said Aunt Pan.


    Relma sprinted off, hoping neither of them was killed for her plan. She''d had to divert that army somehow and felt that showing herself to Lucius was important. Something had been achieved there; she just had to find it after she found Varsus.


    "Come on, you bastards! Face me!" roared Ajax behind her, and fighting could be heard.


    "Varsus! Varsus!" called Relma, sprinting through the halls.


    Eventually, she rounded a corner and came headlong into Varsus and his forces. They had been marching toward her. Estela was nearby, and their swords were drawn. "What is it, Relma?"


    "The satyrs are attacking Estela and Ajax!" said Relma. "They''re fighting to try and keep them at bay."


    "Quickly, men, we''ll go to their aid," said Varsus. "Reginald, De Cathe, keep your men here as a rear guard. Watch that passage; we must not be flanked.


    "The rest of you come with me."


    They hurried forward toward the sound of fighting. Soon, they rounded the corner. They saw Ajax standing before a swarm of satyrs, hacking viciously. His body was covered in wounds, and blood covered him as he hacked at the enemy. A blade cut into his shoulder, and he fell back before Estela stepped over him and brought down her sword. A satyr fell dead as Fayn came beside her, slashing with her axe to cleave a skull.


    Then Varsus surged forward. His blade flashed as he struck the satyr on Ajax. His head fell from his shoulders. Shields were locked as the satyrs moved forward, and the battle was joined. Relma ran to Ajax and kneeled by him, touching him and beginning to heal the injuries. None of the wounds were severe, but this was her fault.


    Why had she had to do that?


    Because she''d known it was the only way. Why? Why did she think that?


    "Form up, ready your spears," called Varsus, directing his men. "Relma, stay behind the line and heal any who are injured. Fayn, retreat!"


    Fayn did retreat, looking furious as she was replaced. "Why am I being replaced?!"


    "I need you to summon flames and cover our retreat," said Varsus.


    "Yes, sir." scoffed Fayn.


    And so it began. The satyrs washed against their position, slamming against armored defenses. Screams of wrath and pain resounded, and Relma healed. She finished her work on Ajax and moved on. Whenever men began to tire or were wounded, they were drawn back and replaced. Varsus'' defense was holding them at bay, and the wounded and dead from the satyrs began to pile up.


    "Well, this is a fine mess; you''ve gotten us into Relma," said Fayn, looking annoyed. "How did you manage to alert an entire army?"


    "I told them I was here, and Lucius sent them after me," said Relma.


    "What?" said Fayn. "Why would you-"


    "They were going to invade the Dusk Lands," said Relma. "I thought I could divert their attention."


    "Well, you did that, at least," said Fayn.


    "Actually, this is only a small part of their army," said Relma.


    "Every bit helps," said Varsus, walking forward. "I doubt that Lucius knows exactly how large a force we have. If he underestimates us, he''ll send too few forces to their death. If he overestimates us, we can hold off much of his army from the main battle." Estela limped back from the battle line and kneeled down. One of her hands was bloodied, and Relma grasped it. "Hold on; I''ll heal you, Estela."


    "Thank you," said Estela. "Lady Pandora, how large was the force you saw gathering?"


    "Larger than the one that attacked Castle Culhorn," said Aunt Pan, opening her eyes. "Much larger."


    "We are entirely outmatched in numbers and weapons," said Varsus. "Well, there is only one thing to do. Ajax, I have something I need you to do."


    "What is it?" asked Ajax. "I''ve just had to fight a large part of the satyrs alone in cramped quarters."


    "Are there any other passages that could lead this way?" asked Varsus.


    "There are passages that lead all over," said Ajax. "I know this area like the back of my hand."


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    "Could you find the main enemy''s strength," asked Varsus.


    "Yes, why?" asked Ajax.


    "Good," said Varsus. "Go to Reginald and tell him I''ve ordered him and his men to find the main satyr army and engage it."


    Pandora stared. "You''re joking."


    "Attack them, break up their formation, draw their attention, and then pull back," said Varsus.


    "Fight, retreat, then fight again. Draw them back here if you must, but keep the way we came open."


    "Why?" asked Ajax.


    "We are wholly outmatched in numbers and weapons," said Varsus. "But the illusion of power may be as good as power itself. If Lucius believes we are stronger than we actually are, he may put aside a large part of his forces to deal with us.


    "That will weaken his thrust into the Dusk Lands. Pandora, can you use sorcery to aid us?"


    "I am," said Pandora. "Lucius'' will is set against us. I am holding it at bay. It is more than a little difficult."


    "Which means we all die," said Fayn.


    "No, it means we cause him problems and withdraw," said Varsus.


    "Fine," said Ajax. "But, this is insane."


    "Shouldn''t we try to warn them?" asked Relma.


    "I have the means to do just that," said Varsus, drawing out a ring from his pack and donning it on one armored hand. "House Gabriel has been friends with the Dust Elves for years. Ever since my uncle Vanion adventured alongside Raynald De Chevlon and Princess Rusara. He was given a ring by Rusara, which may be used to communicate with her people in times of great peril.


    "When I was dispatched here, Duke Vanion gave it to me. Estela, take command while I commune with the Dust Elves."


    And then he kneeled down and began to focus. His eyes closed, and he was silent. Estela looked to where the satyrs were, leaving more and more corpses across the ground. Then, gradually, the bodies began to rise with weapons in hand. Several men were injured, and Relma had to work at them. The line began to falter, but Estela and Fayn rushed forward.


    "For House Vortegex! For Escor!" called Estela.


    They plugged the gap, and Relma began to work with the injured men. As she did, she began to find herself at her limit. She was better at healing than she''d been before. But she found herself hardly able to do it. Wound after wound came before her. Relma could not fix them all without constant concentration. And more were coming at every moment.


    "Come on, Elranor, help me damn it," muttered Relma. "How does William do this?"


    "Well, he probably cares about the person he''s healing," said Aunt Pan quickly. "Magic is all about mindset."


    Relma looked at the soldier she was healing. He was a person, not a guard, with hopes, dreams, and goals. She had put him in danger, and now she was failing him. No, she had to succeed.


    Relma found she had the strength to do this. His injuries healed, and she moved on to the next one. The man was pulled up and went back into the fray. Now, she could do this; she could keep the army going. But the satyrs kept on pushing, their corpses pressing on. And no matter how many they killed, they always had more.


    Their losses meant nothing. Didn''t they want to survive? What could drive this?


    "Any time we kill these things, they rise as undead!" snapped Fayn, drawing back. She was nursing a nasty cut across the face. "This is insane!" Relma put her hand on Fayn''s forehead.


    "I only pray that Reginald is doing better than we are," said Aunt Pan.


    Then Varsus arose. "He is doing more than better. I assure you of that."


    "Varsus, how long can we hold like this?" asked Fayn,


    "We have a strong defensive position," said Varsus. "We are heavily armored, and our enemy is not. If all goes well, we might hold off until we run out of food.


    "But not all will go well.


    "I do not like the way all this is going.


    "You men, rotate positions; you''ve fought enough."


    Then, the howling stopped and was replaced by chanting. The satyrs drew back. Then came a new kind of satyr. They were larger and more robust, wearing armor and holding shields and axes.


    "These ones seem better armed," said Varsus. "Our men are tired, and we are failing. The time has come to cut our losses. Fayn, unleash your power. Now!"


    Fayn smiled and raised her axe, which clinked against the ceiling. "Flames of Cin'' dar, come to me!"


    A great fire arose among the corpses piled high. Smoke and flames arose, and the satyrs drew back. Flames rose higher and higher and hotter than anything Relma had fought. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "We now face the more experienced satyrs," said Varsus. "Keep the fire burning. The smoke should drive them off. We''ll withdraw the passage. Take the bodies of our fallen with us."


    Relma looked at the dead bodies of two men. Men who had died in a single blow, their helms broke. Dead because of a battle she''d started.


    "We should leave them," said Fayn.


    "I will not leave my men unburied for the satyrs to devour," said Varsus. "Now come. Estela, Fayn, you are the rear guard."


    And so began the retreat. Relma was tired, and so was everyone else. They fled from the flames behind them down the passage. Every step was a labor, and Relma struggled to keep going. As she walked behind, she saw the bodies being carried. They weren''t more than five years older than her and dead.


    This was because of her decisions.


    Relma could tell herself that she had saved more lives. But she was still responsible for these deaths. Then they came to the crossroads and found shrieking satyrs fleeing from Reginald. The redheaded warrior had covered his blade in blood, and De Cathe was an equally grisly sight. Some of his men were lying by the far wall, dead or injured.


    Relma ran to them.


    "Well done! We''ve driven them off!" said De Cathe.


    "Come, let''s pursue them and wipe them out!" cried Reginald joyfully. "We''ll slaughter them by the hundreds!"


    "Not yet, Reginald," said Varsus. "We cannot afford to keep fighting them like this. We''ll face an enemy from both directions soon.


    "First, we must know our enemy. Tell us everything you saw.


    "Sir Varsus, we have a live one over here." said a man.


    "Then we''ll speak to him later," said Varsus.


    Relma dared not look up as she healed everyone she could. But she heard Varsus'' voice. "You, where have you come from? How did you gain such numbers?"


    "We are the satyrs of stone," spat the voice. "Lucius led those of us he deemed worthy into the mountains. He changed our blood and bodies and shifted us to survive. We multiplied and were fruitful.


    "Now we shall wash over all his enemies. What you faced her was only a token force, and more will come soon."


    Relma healed a man who had lost an eye. As she did, he gasped.


    "Go to your brethren," said Varsus. "Tell them that if they make war on House Gabriel, our venom shall destroy them when they think they are safest. For we are serpents, and our bite does not kill at once. Even if your blades find their mark, it will be your end.


    "Go."


    "So be it," said the satyr. Then, there came the sound of sprinting. Relma finished her work and made her way up to Varsus.


    "What did you say to him?" asked Reginald.


    "Couldn''t you tell?" asked Relma.


    "I don''t speak satyr, so no. Do you?" asked Reginald.


    "No, but I-"began Relma.


    "Servants of gods can speak all languages, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "Don''t pay mind to it."


    "Varsus, what did you say?" asked Estela.


    "These satyrs are the descendants of a colony sent into Smyngoth''s Mountain. That was long ago," said Varsus. "They must have multiplied within the old goblin empire. No doubt, they''ve been planning this for a long time."


    "So what do we do?" asked Relma.


    Varsus looked around. "...This is a poor position for us to defend. There are two ways out, and the fires are dying down. We must withdraw the way we came and find another choke point. If we beat a fighting retreat, we should be able to dissuade-"And then he halted. "Where is the passage we came in by?"


    Relma looked up, and Ajax moved forward.


    "It has always been here," said Ajax.


    "Not anymore," noted Fayn.


    "It seems Lucius has closed our means of retreat," said Aunt Pan. "We''re trapped."


    This was not good.

 Chapter Fifteen: Heaven and Hellfire

    Silence fell over the group as they waited. Relma saw they felt a sense of dread, but she felt nothing. She set about looking for anyone else who was hurt. As she did, everyone looked to Varsus more than Relma. That irritated Relma, though she knew it really shouldn''t.


    "What now?" asked Fayn.


    "We make a stand," said Varsus. "The longer we hold them back, the more trouble we''ll cause for their forces."


    "Wonderful work, Relma!" said Fayn.


    "What were you thinking, dragging the satyrs down on us?" asked Estela.


    "Forget it, Estela," said Reginald with a smile. "It was a calculated risk. And I''m game to kill a few hundred before I die. Something about this place gets my blood pumping.


    "I''ve killed five already," He looked to Estela. "How many did you kill?"


    "Three," said Estela.


    "Six," said Fayn. "Not to mention the ones I set on fire."


    "Nicely done," said Varsus. "Still, we lost a few men in the fighting. It happens. We have the bodies over there. We''ll see about giving them rights later."


    Why were they all so calm about this? Many seemed in good spirits. "...I didn''t mean things to turn out like this," said Relma.


    "Well, you certainly managed it nonetheless," said Aunt Pan.


    "Perhaps we can surrender?" suggested De Cathe.


    "What good will that do us?" asked Estela.


    "We have many illustrious names among us," said De Cathe. "If we can secure a surrender from Lucius, perhaps some of us may live."


    "Unacceptable," said Aunt Pan. "The Heir of Kings must not fall into his hands."


    "Do you have any brilliant ideas, Pandora?" asked Fayn. "Or are you just going to shoot down other people''s?"


    "I do have one," said Aunt Pan. "Relma, I will need your help with this. Give me your hand, and draw Lightning Trail."


    Relma drew the blade and saw that the light had returned to it. She took Aunt Pan''s hand and was led over to the wall. Aunt Pan put a hand to the bare wall.


    "What are we going to do?" asked Relma.


    "I''m going to open a way through Turmoil, the dimension of limitless potential," said Aunt Pan. "It will be difficult, and we may intersect with hell. But if all goes well, we can create a new passage out of here."


    "By all means, do so," said Varsus. "If you can''t, we''ll die well."


    "Dying is not among my priorities," muttered Estela.


    Pandora said nothing. She closed her eyes, and Relma felt the energy drawn from Lightning Trail into her. Then it flowed into Pandora. The power surged into the walls, and the walls seemed to fade away to reveal a new path. One tiled with white stones.


    "Come on, follow my lead," said Aunt Pan. "There will be things within this place you do not understand. Ignore them and don''t think about them.


    "Relma, help me form a shield."


    "A shield?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said Pandora. "We will create a shield around our forces so they don''t see outside of it. We''ll have to look at what lies beyond, but they don''t have to.


    "Varsus, ready your men to follow closely behind me. Make sure no one falls behind."


    "As you wish, Lady Pandora," said Varsus.


    Pandora looked at her. "Now, Relma, focus your power. Imagine a mist rising around us, hiding our gaze from the monsters beyond."


    Relma obeyed, focusing her power. As the others clustered around them, Relma was instructed by Pandora. Little by little, a massive shield of white energy formed around them, and Pandora led them down the passage. Soon enough, the stones faded away, and they were walking on a smooth surface of many colors. It became translucent, and beyond, Relma saw a strange void. It was not so much nothing as unformed. Nothing was formed, but there was limitless potential. Little by little, as they traveled, Relma became aware of warm light. It became brighter and brighter above her, but at the same time, it did not hurt the light.


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    "What is that light? It''s beautiful," said Relma.


    Pandora smiled. "You''ll see it soon enough.


    "What you are looking at is the heavenly domains of the gods. Each one has a different god who rules over it." Then Relma did see it. A great city, or perhaps a world. It was indescribable to her, a place of flowing fountains and elaborate streets. There were great cities and vast forests. And at the center was a great mountain, more prominent than a continent. It seemed to be everything all at once but with no contradictions. As if this place was the sum of all existence.


    "There, on that peak, is the mountain of Elranor," said Aunt Pan.


    "Have you been there?" asked Relma.


    "Of course not," said Aunt Pan. "One goes there by dying.


    "Careful, we are near another kind of enemy. Don''t look; focus your will through Lightning Trail. Focus on the shield."


    Relma did so. "How far do we have to go?" She felt reluctant to leave. "I don''t really want to leave here. I feel like I''m coming home."


    "I''m not sure yet," admitted Pandora. "This place does not work the same way as the real world. We are almost entirely in the spirit world now."


    Little by little, they passed beyond it. The city or whatever it was passed from sight. The light faded, and darkness came. But the night was not a void but a place of twisted potential. There were strange clouds within it that pained her eyes. Every so often, she could hear things, strange voices in the dark.


    "What is this place, Aunt Pan?" asked Relma.


    "Hell is drawing near to us," said Pandora. "Focus your will, and harden your heart. Whatever you see, whatever you hear, do not allow it to reach you."


    "I know," said Relma, feeling a lump in her throat.


    Pandora looked to her with a strange look. "...You do, don''t you?"


    On they walked, and soon they began to see other cities. But where the one they''d seen before was whole and unified, these were places of conflict. Wars were fought on them as strange, monstrous creatures tore at one another. These things were real, but it was like they had taken creation and bent it to their will.


    "So those are the hells," said Relma.


    "Yes," said Aunt Pan. "The domain of all evil."


    On they went, and then Relma saw something strange. It looked like a vast abyss stretching out in every direction around them. It seemed more significant than anything else, yet she could see the entire thing. Innumerable lights of every color and nature were always flowing into it. "And that? What is that?"


    "The Soul Event Horizon," said Pandora. "All who go beyond that last barrier never return." "I''m afraid, Aunt Pan," said Relma, realizing it was true. "I''ve never been afraid." Never in her entire life had she been terrified. She had felt concerned but never afraid.


    "Oh, what a remarkable revelation, dearie," said a sharp voice. "You flatter me, really."


    Relma looked up, and then the walls of their path seemed to shift. From all sides came hundreds upon hundreds of spiders outside the shield. Varsus and his warriors seemed in a trance and took no notice. The spiders tore at the shield and parted as their leader came forward. What Relma saw had the lower body of an immense spider. Yet her upper body was that of a beautiful, incredibly curvaceous, elven woman. She had violet hair and sharp features to the bottom of her neck, and her teeth were sharp.


    "Rioletta," said Pandora.


    "Yes indeed, darling, it is I in new flesh," said Rioletta, raising a hand to reveal chitinous violet claws. Each one held threads of silk reaching behind into her spider body. This was the goddess of weaving? "I saw you going through turmoil, and I thought I might weave a few webs."


    "What do you want here?" asked Pandora.


    "Want?" asked Rioletta. "Why, nothing from you directly. Merely entertainment at the expense of others. Lucius asked me for a favor; he was always such a nice fellow. Like an uncle to us, really. He helped restore my strength after that insufferable Ictargo interrupted my date.


    "Now, hand over the Heir of Kings."


    "Or what?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "I''m sure you can learn that for yourself, darling," said Rioletta.


    Other shapes appeared in the darkness. And they were not within the passage but outside it. Vast shadowy things with fleshy exteriors. Like a thousand vast beasts that had merged and then grown extra mouths. Energy coursed through the ships.


    "Dark elven vessels," said Pandora.


    There would be no escape through battle. So why wasn''t Relma worried?


    "You made very fast progress through turmoil," said Rioletta. "But we expected you to take that route once you were cornered. It was foolish to reveal yourself so. Lightning Trail can shield many things, but against myself and Lucius, when do we know what to look for?


    "Hardly."


    Phantoms came forth from the mouths of the vessels, like elves but not elves. There was nothing physical about them. The air seemed to scream as they went through it, staring at them with sunken eyes of flame.


    "My dear elven servants will have a wonderful time devouring you all. And after my web have covered you...


    "You will be my servants."


    "If you think we''ll be bought cheaply, you are wrong," said Pandora. "I am not defenseless."


    "Oh, I''m sure you won''t," said Rioletta. "But the losses I sustain will only make the prey much more delicious. Perhaps I can bargain that Varsus fellow for William? He seemed the self-sacrificial type, and I''d love to pick up where we left off last time."


    "What if I give up?" asked Relma suddenly.


    Rioletta glanced up, obviously not expecting that. "Hmm?"


    "If I yield myself to you, will you grant my companions safe passage through the turmoil of your realm?" asked Relma.


    Rioletta paused and thought about it. "No, probably not."


    "Oh," said Relma.


    "Whenever a pure-hearted person gets self-sacrificial, they always get saved," said Rioletta.


    "Maybe it''s a technicality or a sudden rescue, but it''s generally not worth the effort to make deals with them.


    "Much simpler just to kill you all."


    "What if I swear on Lightning Trail?" asked Relma.


    Rioletta stared at her. "I''m sorry?"


    "You can''t do that," said Pandora.


    "I will go with you to Lucius," said Relma. "If I cheat you or betray the spirit of our deal in any way, I will relinquish all rights to Lightning Trail. That way, even if I escape, I''ll be no threat to Lucius, and you''ll still be able to benefit."


    Rioletta raised a finger and considered it. "Now, that is a rather remarkable suggestion. I''ve never heard of oathbreakers getting bailed out of their problems?


    "Not in any satisfying stories anyway."


    "Relma, you can''t do this-" said Pandora.


    "We''ll all die otherwise, Aunt Pan," said Relma. Then she looked to Rioletta and drew the sword.


    "But, you, Rioletta, must swear on Lightning Trail yourself. Swear that you will not break our deal and bring harm, directly or indirectly, to my companions."


    "Well, that takes all the fun out of our deal, doesn''t it?" muttered Rioletta. "Very well. I shall swear not to harm them until I''ve brought you to Del Gabor. Give me the sword."


    "I''ll hold it," said Relma as she went forward and offered the pommel.


    Rioletta grasped hold of it and seemed to flinch at the touch. "I swear on all the above terms." S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Relma, this is madness," said Pandora. But she was visibly tired.


    Relma brought the sword and offered it to her. "Take the sword, Aunt Pan. You can use it in my stead, and if I don''t come back, give it to Estela."


    "But-" began Pandora.


    Then Rioletta grabbed Relma by the neck with her claws, and her vision and hearing faded. "No more goodbyes, darling," said Rioletta. "We go to Del Gabor."


    How was Relma going to talk her way out of this one?

 Chapter Sixteen: Lucius

    When Relma awoke, her arms and legs were bound together by something sticky. She felt herself being bumped gradually. Opening her eyes, she saw the back of a spider scuttling, and she was on it. Around her were many other spiders and those specters she had seen before. Glancing up, she realized she was being carried in a bridal style by Rioletta. Her entire body was covered in webs.


    "So you awaken, darling," said Rioletta. "I was hoping you''d remain asleep for the rest."


    "Why does Lucius want my company?" asked Relma.


    "You don''t seem very fearful for one in your position," said Rioletta.


    "I don''t really get concerned about things," said Relma. "I mean, my body is terrified. You''re something it has never seen before, and all these monsters have it wanting to run. But I''m not my body. My body is just how my soul interacts with the world, like a suit of armor.


    "It affects me, but it isn''t me.


    "And I''m much more detached from it than most people."


    "How very disappointing," said Rioletta. "Some of the best fates I''ve we have come from the connection to the world. Take that away, and there is nothing but pathetic exceptions to how things are.


    "It is in the material plane that fate has meaning. Where changes can occur."


    "I know that much," said Relma. "Why do you think I wear this skin?" What was she talking about? What did she mean by skin?


    "To cheat," said Rioletta.


    "Cheat?" asked Relma. "Is that what you call it?"


    "Well, yes," said Rioletta. "You''ve taken on the flesh of a human with all the advantages. But you''ve kept your original spirit as is.


    "Your fate is preordained. Set in stone.


    "Only the details may change. I can make nothing of you because there is nothing to work with."


    "As opposed to William?" asked Relma.


    "Well, of course," said Rioletta. "He''s worth investing in. Such pride, such compassion, such flaws, I could weave such a wonderful tragedy from him. If only Elranor would stop interfering.


    "I''d just love to bind his soul in my webs and have my way with it. His blood is positively delicious."


    "You are the goddess of fate, aren''t you?" asked Relma.


    "But of course," said Rioletta. "My webs allow me to manipulate the fortunes of all those in the world. It is my great passion."


    "But you are limited in what you can achieve?" guessed Relma.


    "Of course I am," said Rioletta. "I may pull the strands of fate, but those connected to those strands may also pull. All the gods may pull the webs as well."


    "Then what is the difference between you and everyone else?" asked Relma.


    "Dearie, I am the Weaver," Said Rioletta. "I create the webs of fate from the river of souls. I keep the fabric of destiny from fraying, a duty no other god may do. And this gives me advantages.


    "All gods can perceive destiny. But I control where it goes.


    "Some threads are easier to alter than others, of course. Certain strands cannot be changed without damaging the tapestry."


    "And you can''t change my destiny?" asked Relma.


    Rioletta looked moderately embarrassed at the question. "Well, no. You see, your fate was written by the Goddess Karus in ages past. In those days, the God of Order, Valranor, fought a losing war. He was doing battle with Baltoth for power over Calisha. But there came the point when all was lost and his defeat certain.


    "Valranor went to my Karus and sacrificed a large part of his power to interfere with the strands of fate. He could not save himself, so he changed them to ensure Baltoth''s destruction. He foresaw that the descendants of Anoa the Bright would be powerful. And one in particular among them would rise to great heights.


    "And so he set them on a collision course with the God of Order, who he knew Baltoth would become."


    "Why would your Karus let him do this?" asked Relma.


    "I believe they were lovers," said Rioletta. "Though truthfully, I don''t much care one way or the other."


    "What happened to this Karus?" asked Relma.


    "Oh, she died," said Rioletta. "Baltoth was quite furious when he discovered what she had let Valranor do. He dedicated much of his reign to stamping out her worship throughout the cosmos. All in the hopes of averting the prophecy.


    "Not that it worked. Silly Baltoth. So he destroyed her and cast her corpse into the hell.


    "However, that corpse was found by my mistress, Zigildrazia, and formed into me. She entrusted me to Melchious, my master, and I learned under him. Rather ironic, really."


    "How is that ironic?" asked Relma.


    "Now that would be telling," said Rioletta, pleased at knowing something Relma didn''t.


    Then suddenly, they emerged into the daylight, and Relma saw before her vast wastes. The earth here was gray, and the only plants Relma could see were shrub grass. One or two pools of water were overlooked by scraggly trees here and there. And the skies above were in twilight.


    "Welcome to the Dusk Lands," Said Rioletta. "A barren and stretched realm, still recovering. I wonder why the Dust Elves love it so much.


    "The strands in this fate are thin. Chaos had a hold here."


    Then overhead, Relma saw a vast fortress built with the symbols of skulls engraved onto the walls. Towers jutted high like jagged teeth, and an unworldly green glow surrounded it. Iron gates swung open as they approached.


    "Is this Del Gabor?" asked Relma.


    "Whatever gave you that concept, darling?"" asked Rioletta.


    "Well, the towering spires and unholy glow helped," said Relma.


    "Then, yes," said Rioletta.


    The spiders were left behind at the gate, and Rioletta carried Relma through halls of stone. Within were vast numbers of satyrs camping and working. Some were playing cards, others sparring. They eyed Relma and Rioletta with distaste.


    And then they entered a barren courtyard. And there was Lucius, sitting next to a round table, reading a book and sipping tea. Beyond him was a great black arch made from what looked like solid black marble. It drains the light away gradually around it. Though how he drank it with nobody was beyond Relma. He looked up and radiated pleasure. "Ah, Rioletta. You got her to come back with you willingly. Well done, well done indeed."


    Rioletta set Relma down and ripped the webbing with one clawed finger. Relma stood up, getting the feeling back in her hands. As she did., Lucius floated forward and offered a sleeve.


    "Relma Artorious, it''s a pleasure to finally meet you." Relma did not take it. Lucius shrugged and drew back to the table, and motioned to a chair. "Please, sit down.


    "Would you care for anything to drink? Perhaps some tea? I''d like to be known as a good host."


    Relma remained standing. "...No, thank you."


    Lucius shrugged. "Suit yourself. As promised, Rioletta, if ever William Gabriel falls into my hands again, I''ll hand him over to you. I''m sure it will infuriate the Dreaming Goddess a great deal, I''m sure."


    "Excellent," said Rioletta. "It should spite that insufferable Arraxia as well."


    "I was led to believe you had patched things up," said Lucius.


    "Oh, we''ve never been hated enemies," said Rioletta. "If that is what you mean. But I''d absolutely love to hold this over her."


    "I''m not sure she cares nearly as much about who kills William Gabriel as you do," said Lucius. "The other part of our bargain is also fully in effect."


    "Why do you want William so much?" asked Relma.


    "Well, I had this wonderful plan going and a trapped slave to torment as I willed," said Rioletta.


    "Then he wrecked the whole thing. It really is only fair he replaces my losses. He also has a destiny that some compelling figures need him to fulfill. Having him in my possession would be a very powerful bargaining chip."


    "Perhaps we should discuss the matter another time," said Lucius. "Would you leave us in peace?"


    "Of course, dearie," Said Rioletta. Then she scuttled off.


    Lucius looked at Relma from where he was seated. "For now, Relma, I''m sure you are wondering why you are here."


    "The thought had crossed my mind," said Relma.


    "Well, the first reason is that I''d wanted to speak with you," said Lucius. "I like to connect personally to the various rising heroes of each age. It goes a long way to keeping the game entertaining.


    "There are, of course, more practical reasons."


    "Which are?" asked Relma.


    "I need you as a hostage," said Lucius. "Much as Rioletta desires William, you would be very valuable. So long as you are in my custody, Harlenor cannot act against me. Or, at the very least, not without alienating those who believe in the prophecy.


    "Of course, if they do call my bluff, I''ll have to cut your throat, but that is only a minor inconvenience."


    "I''d die," noted Relma.


    "As I said, a minor inconvenience," said Lucius. "I am immortal and eternal, my dear girl. I know a thing or two about the afterlife. And the truth is that death isn''t nearly as serious as mortals think it is.


    "The way things stand, you die repeatedly until you qualify for one of the afterlives. Then you enter that until it inevitably collapses and has to be reformed.


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    "It''s just part of the cycle."


    "Is that why you sent your own people to die in droves?" asked Relma, feeling a bit hostile.


    "The satyrs don''t value their own lives," said Lucius. "They live and die for the Unborn God. I''m presenting them with a means to achieve their goal.


    "But to answer your question, yes."


    "And the Unborn God is?" asked Relma. She felt she knew the answer already but did not want to use the information until she heard it.


    "A charming plan they invented of their own accord," said Lucius. "They believe that their souls and life forces join with a god still forming within hell. The Unborn God will one day awaken and consume the universe.


    "I mean to ensure it becomes partially true."


    "Is that your plan then?" asked Relma.


    Lucius laughed. "Plan? You think too much of me. I''m not more than an elderly gentleman looking out for his interests."


    "Then why are you trying to exterminate the Dust Elves? What do you gain from it?" asked Relma.


    "In the short term, nothing," said Lucius. "But once there are no more Dust Elves, their souls will still have to reincarnate. Some will become high elves, of course. But unless their population growth greatly increases, many will join other races.


    "Which is the thrust of my intentions.


    "I want to exterminate all species save humans and satyrs, starting with the elves. Once all souls are reincarnated in my creation''s races, I shall overthrow the gods. Once they have all been supplanted by my people, I will dissolve their afterlives. From there, I shall force all the souls of the dead to reincarnate as humans and satyrs.


    "Thus, all sentient life in the universe will be recreated in my image."


    Relma blinked. He hadn''t explained anything, really. "But why are you doing it?


    "Because I really don''t like elves very much," said Lucius. Then he paused to consider how weak this sounded. "And I dislike Alchara."


    Relma blinked. "... That''s your motive?! I assumed that when you murdered your wife to create a race of bloodthirsty monsters."


    "Well, it''s more of a hobby to pass the time than a plan, truth be told," admitted Lucius. "It wasn''t always. I remember I was quite a firebrand back in the day, always plotting this and that. Still, I''ve cooled off over the years; now, I pursue it for two reasons.


    "First, my subjects expect it.


    "And the second is a healthy dose of spite. I expect you''ll find that most motives are based on the latter. If we didn''t want to ruin someone else''s existence, we''d all find more productive things to do.


    "So you''re doing this all for fun," said Relma, disappointed by his motives.


    "And to create a gate in Del Gabor from which the orcish race will return and make war on all who live," said Lucius.


    There was dead silence.


    "...I expect I should have mentioned that first," said Lucius after a moment.


    Relma took this in. On the one hand, this ran contrary to Lucius'' earlier plan. But then it might further them in some fashion. Or he might simply be making things up as he went. Relma felt like she was, and it had worked out for her.


    So she feigned interest. "What are orcs?" She was genuinely interested, so it wasn''t feigned.


    "A particular species created by dark magics that has spread across the cosmos. Very fond of killing and burning, as I understand it. They landed here long ago but were wiped away by Alchara," said Lucius. "I''m bringing them into this world using the lifeforce of the satyrs who died in battle.


    "Though that may take some time, to be honest.


    "I''m beginning to think the plan might be untenable. I''ve been working on this gate for quite some time, and I can''t seem to get a stable connection." He motioned to the black arch and looked at it; Relma sensed power. Immense power. "This device was meant to create a shortcut through the spiritual plane. It exists alongside the material world. But what I need to happen is a gate to be opened into turmoil so I can reach other worlds entirely.


    "It''s been quite an interesting challenge. Of course, they have a similar gate in the domain of Antion and faraway Tarasif. Yet that is of much cruder design and is limited to where the gods began their creation of this world,"


    "Why do you want to bring these things to this world?" asked Relma.


    "I owe Fortenex a favor, and Melchious hopes to use the distraction," said Lucius. "Also, I like trying my hand at solutions to difficult problems.


    "You see, there are four general planes of existence. Heaven, hell, the spirit world, and the material plane. Heaven and hell existed first. They were creations of the gods'' will when they first came through the river of souls. Though some argue that hell is just a twisted mockery of heaven, it is all semantics.


    "The material world was then created by one or both of them. None of the stories agreed, even when I was a young man with a full head of hair. What is important is that the material plane is the battleground of Heaven and Hell.


    "They refuse to do battle directly, you see. Some claim that such a thing would destroy the universe. For my part, I believe it isn''t practical. Angels are at their strongest when in heaven and their weakest in hell. Demons have the reverse. An invasion would be unworkable. So instead, the two sides foist the whole problem off on mortals."


    "I thought Diabolus was the first demon," said Relma.


    "He was the first," admitted Lucius. "But demons did exist before the Seven Demonic Archons. Unfortunately, Diabolus was not what you could call original ¡ª or organized. The races were so monstrous they were useless for my purposes.


    "When I achieved Envy''s aspect, it was my idea to create the Seven Demonic Archons. They were creatures possessing the virtues of the heavenly realm but who used them for our ends. It then became a simple matter to arrange for Diabolus'' downfall. I haven''t met one man who liked him, so causing rebellion was easy.


    "Since then, things have been far more efficient. None of this evil-for-its-own-sake nonsense. These days, most demons who amount to anything have a clear goal and are willing to get their hands clean to get it."


    "Like Melchious?" guessed Relma.


    Lucius seemed to smile affectionately despite not having a face. "Melchious is a fine young man, but he''s something of a romantic. He appeals to the old guard of demons, lots of torture and destruction for its own sake. But he pursues all that because he enjoys it and likes fighting.


    "His goal is meaningless carnage, and that is what he achieves. He''ll grow out of it eventually and seek more realistic gains.


    "You are guessing a bit closer to home than possible for your mortal self."


    "I know," said Relma. "It''s evident in retrospect. I''ve always known the right thing to do. Every time I make a gamble, it pays off. I''ve never really misjudged someone badly yet.


    "I am not human, am I?"


    "No. You are not," said Lucius. "Your spirit is an incarnated angel of great power. Elranor does that occasionally. He refuses ever directly to intervene in an outright confrontation. He prefers to inspire greatness and gift powers to those who earn them.


    "I thought it rather a silly idea, but Harlenor has survived all these years, so there may be some merit.


    "Still, every so often, Elranor needs someone to intervene directly. Someone with higher power than your average mortal. In these cases, he has one of his angels incarnate themselves in a mortal body.


    "I was hoping you''d be the one I was looking for."


    "Looking for?" asked Relma.


    "Yes, that was the other reason I brought you here," said Lucius. "I''ve been looking for a particular angelic soul for a long time. My counterpart, Evoria."


    "The one you murdered," said Relma.


    "Yes, I stabbed her to death with a knife," Said Lucius ruefully. "It''s been millennia, and if she''d wanted to, she could have reincarnated at any time.


    "Being murdered is just an inconvenience. Nothing too serious. I''ve had it happen once or twice when I took mortal form. You don''t see me swearing eternal vengeance."


    "Why are you looking for Evoria?" asked Relma. "And why would she be an angel?"


    "It would be more accurate to say that she was akin to an angel," said Lucius. "She was the mother of your species and also the satyrs. Albeit, the latter was born through some unusual means.


    "The point is, Evoria and I are like gods ourselves by the simple virtue of being the first. If she was incarnated, she would likely display similar abilities to yourself. Great charisma, immense natural talent, and noble bloodlines. The usual."


    "Why are you looking for her?" asked Relma. "Do you want to get her back?"


    "Don''t be foolish," said Lucius. "I never loved her at all. I was created with a far higher level of comprehension and intelligence than her. She had a childhood where she learned to speak and walk while I did not."


    Relma wondered what it would be like to simply not have a childhood. To be born with immense knowledge and emotional maturity. "Why would the gods do that to you?"


    "It was necessary," said Lucius. "At the time humanity was created, most other races had existed for hundreds of years. We were a last-minute addition by Alchara, I''m afraid. Only a little thought was used, and little care was provided.


    "They gave me knowledge and power enough to take care of her.


    "And then they told me to breed a race with her. It was akin to marrying my daughter."


    "What do you mean we were a last-minute addition?" asked Relma, feeling human suddenly.


    "In the original plans for the universe, there were no humans," said Lucius. "Apparently, the universe they came from had only humans, and they wanted a change.


    "They designed each race with a specialty and among them. Dwarves were great miners and craftsmen. The elves were long-lived and wise. And orcs were great hunters."


    "Wait," said Relma. "You said the orcs were created by dark magic."


    "Yes, they were," said Lucius. "It''s somewhat complicated, but the orcish species was recreated in a new form. There is an Empire called the Demoration, ruled by a spoiled and indolent elite."


    "I''ve heard the name once or twice. What kind of name is Demoration?" asked Relma. "Why would they want to recreate the orcs, and why haven''t I ever heard of them?"


    "It was named after its founder, Demos," said Lucius. "A hero of some renown who defeated one of the Withering Kings. As for why you haven''t heard of them, they are not of this world. And they have existed for a very long time, extending their reach to many worlds.


    "They wanted to create an army of loyal slave soldiers. You see, they were somewhat unpopular with their people and did not want to rely on a citizen army. And later, when they succeeded, they took it one step further.


    "The whole idea was to replace the working class of their own society with brainwashed orc slaves. That way, they could permanently drive the peasants into squalor. They''d only have to cover up the horrible state of their society for a few more generations. Then, with luck, the lower classes would all die of starvation or become slaves out of desperation.


    "Not that the elites were aware this was their plan. Most needed to be more shortsighted to know they even had a plan. But that was, ultimately, where their strategy was heading. So, for simplicity, I call it their plan and ignore their rationalization of sin.


    "As happens with the idle rich, however, they were deceived more by Rioletta. When they made the orcs, they assumed they were creating life wholesale. In reality, however, their steps were being guided by Kreshlak, who wanted to restore his old race. When the time was right, Rioletta sent one of her agents to break their control over their slaves.


    "The resulting war developed... not quite to their advantage. It was a spectacular case of spannering on Rioletta''s part.


    "Spannering?" asked Relma.


    "A term we use for when an elaborate plan is ruined by a single, decisive action," said Lucius. "But in any case, the point is that original orcs are long since dead. The elves killed them, down to the last child, thanks to machinations I set in motion long ago. I am rather proud of that achievement, actually.


    "Where was I?"


    "You were telling me why you are plotting the eradication of non-humans," said Relma.


    "Ah, yes, thank you, dear girl," said Lucius. "At my age, I tend to ramble on and get sidetracked. Please indulge me.


    "Anyway, the point I''m getting at is that all of the races had their own specialty, which they were really good at. Each one had a god assigned to it as well. Barden for the dwarves. Laevian for Dust Elves, Alchara for High Elves. Then there is Dreamora for Dreamer Elves, Kreshlak for the Orcs. And so on and so forth."


    "What about halflings?" asked Relma.


    "Halflings are actually a different kind of dwarf. They are descended from some who went above ground and began farming," said Lucius. "They have the same ancestor.


    "Anyway, the point is that all these species worked very well. But they all were separate. There was no interaction between them, and the gods wanted there to be interaction. That was when Dreamora suggested they create humans to act as a sort of intermediate race. They''d have all the advantages of each race but not be as good in any area.


    "Evoria and I were the first.


    "Unfortunately, we didn''t have any of the benefits the first of the other races had. The world was not new and wonderful. The darkness had begun to set in. That was why I was given knowledge between good and evil."


    "Everyone already has that," noted Relma.


    "Not everyone did at first," said Lucius. "In the first days, the species were as children, unable to understand right and wrong. Eventually, the gods granted it to them when they were mature enough.


    "But I had it from the beginning.


    "I knew things. From my first moments, I could ponder the cosmos and know more than any other. I understood how to speak, and I knew right and wrong. And I picked things up very quickly indeed.


    "The gods claimed it was a gift. I learned otherwise.


    "Evoria had been born into an innocence unknown to this world now. She was more naive than the youngest child in the world. And I had been charged with taking care of her. I was more a father to her than a brother."


    He''d said that twice now. As if reminding himself of the fact. "Why did you kill her?"


    "It''s a bit of a long story," said Lucius. "But the two of us were charged with learning the ways of the world." He looked away. "Also producing a new human species. Unfortunately, we''d been made for a perfect world, and the world around us was anything but.


    "It was less unpleasant than it was now, but sin had come to filter in, even in those days."


    "Why did you kill her?" asked Relma more firmly.


    "Evoria apparently got on well," said Lucius. "She had a remarkable ability to charm people, much like yourself. Nor did she understand when others mocked her. For my part, I did understand her. My apprenticeship with the elves was a nightmare.


    "I spent the entire time listening to them act smugly, treating me as a child. And I wasn''t a child. But I lacked any of the experience that an adult would have.


    "I still remember the fathers and mothers of the elves. Men and women should have stood as equals, yet we were just stupid servants. And we were always the worst everywhere, no matter what we did.


    "We went to the dwarves and lived in cramped quarters. We were too large for their tunnels and needed more durability to do many of their techniques. And once again, we were the worst.


    "Among the orcs, we were not as strong or fast or skilled with the spear or axe.


    "We were nothing. We were the worst at everything we tried wherever we went.


    "Humanity was created to be terrible so everyone else could look good.


    "I hated them. I wanted to see the other races miserable. But my thoughts had not yet turned to murder. For in those days, I thought the gods would play by their own rules.


    "So we settled down. And we produced a race.


    "But I did not take time for pleasure or enjoying the world. What was there to enjoy? We had been given used goods on the day of our birth. It was an insult, so I returned the unwanted gift.


    "Instead, I focused on producing as many children as possible. Evoria wanted to take our time, but I had no time. I raised them quickly, forcing them to learn a trade immediately. Every child I produced became something more significant.


    "While other races celebrated and lazed about, we worked. There were no holidays for humanity, nor did we waste animals or resources for sacrifices to the gods. I sent my children to learn the ways of other races. But I did nothing to connect the races with each other. And when I discovered something wonderful or great, I kept it for humanity alone.


    "Queen Dreamora told me to stop. She said I was harming my children by making them work so young. But I knew the truth. She was afraid, for she saw now that I was about to defeat all the races at their own game.


    "Soon, I produced works of wonder and beauty the elves could not conceive of! I was mining faster and forging greater equipment than all the dwarves in the world! My hunters coordinated and soon forced the orcs to move farther afield. We killed more beasts than they ever could hope to! And we left to rot what we did not need so the orcs could not eat!


    "All of the other races! All their special talents and unique abilities were nothing! NOTHING BEFORE THE UNWAVERING AND ETERNAL WILL OF HUMANITY! MY WILL!! NOT THE GODS!!"


    Lucius was suddenly screaming, and the sound shook the stone and sent a pale light flaring in the skies above. Then he composed himself. "I apologize for that. Old wounds do get me angry.


    "We had been given nothing to work with. Our enemies had a centuries-long head start. And we still beat them."


    "I''m not sure it was a contest," said Relma.


    "Everything is a contest," scoffed Lucius. "As spoiled children often do, the other races cried to their parents. So the gods decided that they must take some action. They needed to prevent my children from making the rest irrelevant.


    "They could have adapted my own methods or developed new means. But that would take some actual work. So, instead, the gods decided to ensure that humanity''s lifespans would be far shorter. Thus limiting the amount we could learn.


    "I realized that the gods would never allow my species to succeed. We were the unfavorite. The game had been rigged against us at the start.


    "So I made a pact with Diabolus, stabbed Evoria to death, and used her blood to create the satyrs. I unleashed them on the Dreamer Elves, who lived in an isolated area. When they were completely wiped out, I planted evidence. I deceived the other races into believing the orcs did it. Using them, I set the elves and dwarves on the warpath against them. I nearly exterminated the species. And all the while, the satyrs viciously attacked the high elves while their men were away.


    "Most were killed.


    "The Dust Elves fled into the far east. The dwarves and orcs were butchering each other en masse. The high elves met the satyrs in battle, and together, they tore each other apart. Both were equally matched and caused massive casualties.


    "I was so close.


    "So close to destroying them all! To victory!


    "But then my children, the humans, turned on me. They sided with the high elves and fell on the satyrs, their true brethren. So the high elves won the battle by a narrow margin.


    "Then Diabolus broke through the barriers of reality and destroyed the world. The gods saved those who remained and would later create new worlds. But every world since has been but a reflection of the first.


    "As for myself, I was given to Diabolus.


    "But I negotiated with Diabolus and convinced him to make me his advisor.


    "And that, more or less, brings us up to date."


    Relma wondered about something. "Why do you still hate the other races after all this time? You''ve succeeded in making everyone as miserable as you were. Maybe more."


    "Because they aren''t human," said Lucius. "Anything not made in my image is an enemy to be destroyed. My victory will only be complete when the god''s favorites have been washed from memory."


    Relma paused and made up her mind. "...Well, you''re a horrible person."


    "Whatever you believe, I''m afraid I''ll have to detain you here. At least until such a time as other arrangements are made," said Lucius. "If you''ll excuse me, I have much business to attend to." Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Kindly escort Princess Relma to her quarters."


    And shadows were all around them.


    Relma thought this conversation had been very productive.

 Chapter Seventeen: Negotiations

    Once again, Relma was in a cell. The good news was that it was nice, with plenty of straw. You had a nice window letting in the light, which was well-cleaned. The window went upwards and narrowed as it went up, so you couldn''t climb out.


    Relma had yet to try, of course. For one thing, she had nowhere to go if she ran. And even if she did escape, there might be missed opportunities here.


    Overall, being in prison was a distressing habit that she hoped would not persist. There were only so many prisons to break out of. And even prisons serve a practical purpose now and then. So, discrediting them all would be unfortunate.


    Now, how to discredit this one?


    Relma paced back and forth, hands in her pockets. "Well, this is a fine mess you''ve put yourself in, Relma. Ronald''s still sick, you''re far from help, and now you''re a prisoner of Lucius.


    "What am I going to do?


    "Let me think, what are my resources here. I''ve got none. Nothing tangible, anyway."


    When Relma ruled Harlenor, she should put in some rules about how prisons should be run. She''d hate to think that people would end up somewhere worse than this.


    Then she heard a horn call, loud and shrill. Then another and another after that. More and more followed until soon, there was an immense clamor. Coming to the window, Relma looked out of the window and saw satyrs. Thousands, no, tens of thousands of them. They were in all the courtyards of Del Gabor and outside the walls in great camps.


    "All that fighting and we didn''t do anything but delay them," said Relma sadly. "They don''t seem even slightly upset." She thought about the men who had died in all those battles and wondered what good it had been.


    "I''ve got to find a way out of all this, and I have to do it now." She sincerely hoped that her plan, whatever it was, was workable.


    Then she heard voices on the other side of her cell. They were the harsh voices on the other side. "Good news! We caught a Dust Elven village and burned it to the ground! Even killed a dozen of them, and we only lost thirty for our trouble!"


    "Lucius, be praised! We''ll crush them yet!" said another voice.


    Relma moved to the door. "Why are you so enthusiastic?" She whispered through.


    "Hmm?" said the voice.


    "You lost thirty of your comrades and only killed twelve Dust Elves," said Relma. "That doesn''t seem a good trade to me." Death for death wasn''t a good trade, even in normal circumstances. But she doubted that argument would fly here.


    "A human would think that," scoffed the satyr on the other side. "We are all of us dying with every day we live. But if we can only do as much as scratch our enemy''s faces, it will be a life well-lived. And we have done more than that.


    "Dust Elves mature at sixty. We mature at ten.


    "When those twelve have been replaced, there will be a hundred and sixty more of our kind. So we have won, in the end!"


    "Actually, it would be a hundred and eighty," said Relma. "And you''re not accounting for other forms of death. Disease, famine, accidents."


    "We satyrs live to die," snapped the other one. "Your kind should thank us for clearing the way for the superior species."


    "Well, I suppose the thought counts," said Relma ruefully. "What is your name?"


    "I am Shren," said the satyr. "I do not have a last name or any of us."


    "Nice to meet you," said Relma. This wasn''t good. They''d already started skirmishing. She had to find something to stop all this. If Elranor would suddenly appear with words of wisdom, now was the time.


    Elranor did not appear.


    Relma would gladly settle for Anoa the Bright. But he didn''t appear either.


    "... I''ll take that to mean either a no or ''you already have what you need," said Relma, walking away from the door. "So I have nothing physical to offer Lucius, and defeating him directly is out of the question. So what do I know? What do I know that could be of value to him. Let me think...


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    "Maybe Wrynncurth will come and rescue me. He''s interested in peace in his area.


    "No, he''s far away and doesn''t want to waste his flight until he can..." She trailed off as something clicked into place. "Can make more souls.


    "That''s it!"


    She rushed back to the door. "Excuse me! Shren!''


    "What is it?" said Shren.


    "I''d like to speak with Lord Lucius again?" said Relma.


    "Lord Lucius is not yours to call," said Shren.


    "But I have an offer for him," said Relma. "Something that will make him more powerful than ever before."


    "What is it?" asked Shren.


    "I can''t tell anyone but him," Said Relma.


    Shren remained silent. "You, inform the Master of this." He said, probably to another satyr. Footsteps walked away. "You''d best not be lying, girl."


    "Don''t worry. I''m completely on the level," said Relma.


    Then everything stopped. The room went dark as the light was sapped away, and Relma turned to see Lucius emerging from the blackness. "I''m told you have an offer for me."


    "How did you do that?" asked Relma.


    "I appear wherever I will," said Lucius. "And know the minds of my descendants. Please, speak." Relma felt a bit nervous, but she had nothing else to do here. "Have you heard of Adrian Wrynncurth?"


    "My dear girl, I hear of everyone," said Lucius. "A compelling individual and a clever practitioner of necromancy. Especially since he was entirely self-taught.


    "What of him?"


    "I can get you a meeting with him," said Relma. "I have a friend who is the son of his close ally, and I''ve worked well with him."


    "I suppose you could," mused Lucius. "But how could that be of benefit to me?"


    "The Black Dragons are an immense regional power," said Relma. "If you were to have good relations with him, you''d be able to influence the entire region around Gel Carn."


    "You exaggerate," said Lucius.


    "Fine, yes, I do," said Relma. "Wrynncurth isn''t going to fight any wars for you. But he could easily take your part in various issues. You''d have access to a powerful mouth in Steward Benarus'' ear."


    "And now, please tell me what I could offer him?" asked Lucius.


    Relma blinked in surprise at that. She was expecting Lucius to be two steps ahead the whole time. Or to shut her down directly. "Don''t you know?"


    "Of course, I know, my dear girl," said Lucius. "But you''ve put much thought into all this, and I''d hate to deny you the satisfaction of explaining."


    "Wrynncurth has been cursed," said Relma. "His species has been unable to create new souls for ages. He''s just been recycling the other black dragons.


    "But you... You''re one of the first beings to ever exist.


    "You have immense power. You want to rig the cycle of reincarnation so your favored species is the only one left. Your knowledge could be an immense help to him in his quest."


    "Yes, I see that much," said Lucius. "But would not allowing the black dragons to increase in numbers contradict my interests?"


    "Dragons don''t reproduce that quickly anyway," said Relma. "Elves, dwarves, halflings, and goblins are creatures you must worry about. It was ages ago when the gold dragons were decimated, and there are still barely any left.


    "It''s only a minor tradeoff and could be a huge help."


    The room grew a bit lighter. Lucius seemed to sigh, and the sound was painful. "Well, you''ve made your case well enough. Tell me, what do you want in return?"


    "I uh..." Relma blinked as she realized the hole in her plan. "I''m not sure I thought that part through yet."


    "Selfless martyrdom does have its drawbacks, I suppose," said Lucius.


    Relma saw what she wanted. "I want you to call off this war. Now. Send the satyrs back to their mountains."


    "Mmmhmm. What else?" asked Lucius.


    "And I also want you to lift your curse on every one your undead have affected," said Relma. She needed to help Ronald.


    "Ambitious, aren''t we?" asked Lucius.


    "And, obviously, I want my freedom," said Relma.


    "Well, I giving out outrageous offers is one," said Lucius, flourishing one sleeve. "Better than setting the bar too low. But you don''t understand what you ask by the second.


    "I exist in a multitude of worlds in a multitude of forms. I have cursed trillions of lives throughout the cosmos. Perhaps more. I would have asked me to remove the curses in Gel Carn."


    "In this entire world," Relma insisted.


    Lucius shrugged. "...Very well. I''ve never been overfond of curses anyway. If you must destroy someone, you might as well do it directly.


    "Now, we should move on to the third item on my agenda. That seems perfectly reasonable to me. In fact, I will provide you with supplies for your journey and safe passage back to your friends.


    "As for the first, I''m afraid I cannot do that under any circumstances?"


    Relma eyed him carefully. "Why not?"


    "As a leader, I have certain obligations," said Lucius. "The satyrs in this army have offered their lives. They have offered their very souls to me to destroy in the name of the Unborn God. They will die soon in any case.


    "It would be immensely callous of me to cast aside such devoted servants."


    "In that case, I''d be willing to accept you canceling your plan to bring the orcs into this world instead," said Relma.


    "Oh?" asked Lucius.


    "Well, I''m not unreasonable. I''m offering an alternative," said Relma.


    "And if I refuse?" asked Lucius.


    "Well then, we sit here until Wrynncurth enters the war and obliterates your armies," Said Relma. "I''ve already sent messages and secured his support in future endeavors. It''s only a matter of time before his flight comes here and obliterates this entire castle.


    "You can take my deal and get something out of this. Or you can inconvenience me for a few weeks and be destroyed."


    "You seem confident for one in prison," noted Lucius. "Why should you be here if you were so confident of victory?"


    "I hate bloodshed," said Relma. "I hate watching people die. I''ve never killed anyone directly, and I never intend to. Even if the only people who would die in this war were the satyrs, I''d still want to avoid it.


    "If I can''t stop you from sending the satyrs to their deaths, I''d rather at least prevent a second war when the orcs come in.


    "Now, are you interested or not?"


    "...Very well then," said Lucius. "Agreed." And he offered a sleeve. "Give me your hand in pledge."


    Relma took it and felt a chill go into her bones. Then, it was broken as Lucius floated away. "Now, I''ll arrange for you to be returned to your friends immediately. I must ask this, however. Do you think giving me access to Wrynncurth will work well for you?"


    "I told you I''d arrange a meeting," said Relma. "I never said I''d thought you''d get anywhere.


    "Besides, Wrynncurth is reasonable. If you want to maintain any influence over him, you must also be reasonable. If you want to influence Gel Carn, you must open yourself to our influence.


    "In games of influence, the good usually wins."


    Lucius laughed, and the voice was sardonic. "...You are far cleverer and far more naive than you appear at first glance, Relma Artorious. I like you."


    Relma eyed him carefully. "You are a very charming, elderly gentleman, Lucius. But I don''t trust you." sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "That is wise," said Lucius.


    So, negotiations concluded. Relma just hoped she had avoided making a massive mistake here.

 Chapter Eighteen: Poisonous Friends

    The next day, Relma was led out of her cell and through the gates of Del Gabor. The doors slammed shut behind them with an audible clang. Thus revealing the snarling and glaring face of a monster carved into them. To think, she had just started to like the place too. Rioletta was nowhere to be seen, though some of her spiders remained. There was a group of satyrs waiting for her.


    Shren was among them. And Lucius appeared. "These warriors will take you to your friends. Messages have been sent ahead, so they know we are coming. I should advise you not to stray too far."


    "My warriors and I shall protect you with our lives," said Shren. "And if we are betrayed, we shall kill you with our own hands." He paused. "Would you prefer rope or just a sword between the ribs? Or a cutthroat?"


    "Thank you, Shren," said Relma. "I''ll leave the judgment in your hands. Out of curiosity, where is Rioletta?"


    "Tending to her own affairs, of course," said Lucius.


    "And what affairs would those be?" asked Relma.


    "I''m not one to inquire about my enemies'' private business," said Lucius. "I know of it by other means."


    "Enemies?" asked Relma. "You were working together. You are working together."


    "There is no such thing as friendship among the hells," said Lucius. "Merely a mutual use that will be cast aside when that use is outlived by one or both parties. If you will excuse me, I have other business to attend to."


    And he disappeared.


    Shren motioned to Relma. "We must go quickly. The Dust Elves may have spies waiting for us." They walked through the Dust Lands, and as they did, Relma noticed something. The land wasn''t just barren, like a patch of grass that had been trampled. It was dead. Nothing dwelled in this place or very little, and she sensed something absent. She had felt it all her life but never noticed it until recently.


    "These lands are strange. It''s like the spirits are asleep," said Relma.


    "They were crushed beneath the will of Lucius in ancient times," said Shren. "They sought to defy him and so paid the price. And they have yet to recover from it."


    All this devastation for one offense? "What did they do to offend him?"


    "There are many stories. Some say they broke a contract with him," said Shren. "Consider it a warning." He paused. "If we are betrayed, I think I''d best keep things simple and run you through the heart. I want to kill at least one enemy before I die, and Dust Elves attack swiftly."


    "Why are you so hurry to die?" asked Relma. The whole species seemed fixated on death.


    "It is our purpose," said Shren. "Other satyrs have strayed from the path of blood and death. But we pursue it even now. Ours is the people who will wash away all over the world."


    So they walked through barren lands. As they did, they scaled crags and walked through dunes of sand. The air was tense, and gradually, Relma began to sense a bit more life. "Why would the Dust Elves ever want to live here?"


    "No one wanted this domain," said Shren. "The land is nearly worthless. So when they were forced out of Escor, it was up for grabs."


    "So why would Lucius want to unleash an invasion of orcs here?" asked Relma. "Wouldn''t it make more sense to pick somewhere that could support an army?"


    "It would," said Shren. "Which is why he picked here. Fortenex is often impatient to act and sometimes makes mistakes. If Lucius could open a portal here, Fortenex might send forth the race into this world. They''d then be slaughtered in droves by the Dust Elves, and even if they won, the land they gained would be worthless."


    "So he''s starting an extraplanar invasion, so it will fail?" asked Relma.


    "I think so," said Shren. "Orcs are not satyrs or humans, so Lucius would love it if they were exterminated. He would still love it if they took severe losses fighting the Dust Elves. From there, they''d starve to death in the wastes."


    "And you''re willing to give your lives for this cause?" asked Relma.


    "There is no difference between a good deed and an evil one," said Shren. "They are merely a matter of like and dislike. What matters is that you commit yourself to something greater. That is the way of salvation, to give up the self in pursuit of another''s glory.


    "We are obligated only to our ancestors, who brought us into this world. And Lucius is the ultimate ancestor."


    "What about Evoria?" asked Relma.


    "Oh, she''s dead," said Shren. "Though I''ve heard there are some shrines raised to her here and there." Then he halted. "We''re nearly there. We''ll move to that hill and raise the flag of parley."


    "Why?" asked Relma, looking around and seeing nothing. "Who are you parleying with?"


    "Someone you haven''t seen yet," said Shren as they scaled the hill. Then he motioned. "See there."


    "I don''t see anything," said Relma, staring over a series of black rocks.


    Then, she began to pick up movement. Sand moves slowly across the wastes between the rocks. Some of the sand seemed to disappear into the rocks. Others moved away, and it wasn''t because of the wind. Gradually, Relma realized it wasn''t sand.


    It was people. People clad in cloaks like the landscapes. The rocks were tents, and they were everywhere. More and more, Relma picked out tents all around her and what looked like a market. This was no wasteland; it was a city!


    "...I see them. They''re all around us," said Relma.


    "Indeed," said Shren. "The Dust Elves are perhaps the most dangerous creatures to hunt. If we die here, it shall be a fitting end." And he drew out a scimitar as around them emerged dozens of robed figures. They were wielding short swords and bucklers while some stayed behind with bows. These had arrows trailing on them.


    And into sight came a Dust Elf. He was very tall for his kind, making him of average height. His eyes were narrowed, and over his mouth was a scarf. One of his long ears was notched, and he held a spear toward them. On his head was a helm of steel with silver ornaments. Shren quickly put a sword to Relma''s throat, though not unkindly.


    "Speak your terms, satyr. Then prepare to die," snarled the elf.


    "We are not here for battle. We have come to return a prisoner." Said Shren.


    "Have you?" asked the Dust Elf. "I know of no prisoners."


    Obviously, Lucius would have talked with Aunt Pan about any such arrangement. There must have been a meeting where it was decided on, and if Aunt Pan had not told this elf, Relma wouldn''t either. That is not the full truth. "I am Raleen. I was in the company of Lady Pandora as a serving girl. I was captured by Lucius, whose servants mistook me for another.


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    "He wishes to return me as a show of goodwill."


    The Dust Elf raised an eyebrow. "Goodwill? His armies are moving into my lands?"


    "I don''t believe he was sending his goodwill to you, though I mean no offense by it," said Relma. "He is returning me to my Mistress."


    The elf scanned over Relma, then the satyrs. "I see.


    "Give her into my custody, and I will return her. You will then return to your own kind, where you may live longer."


    "We will breathe our last when your veins are empty," replied Shren with a laugh.


    Then, ruffling Relma''s hair, he shoved her toward the elf, who stepped aside and let Relma pass. Shren and his warriors left, and Relma was taken into the city. She saw all kinds of strange things. There seemed to be some sort of ritual before a small forest of scrub trees.


    "What is that?" asked Relma.


    "We are performing the duties of Laevian," said the elf from before. "Lucius devastated this land long ago. We are attempting to restore life to it. But healing requires both the restoration of the spirit and the body. Without one, the other cannot live.


    "They are attempting to draw out the weakened spirits into those lands we are working on. It is a long process, but we have been able to make parts of this land grow food."


    "How do you survive in this place?" asked Relma.


    "We import most of what we need," said the elf. "Our people are great warriors, and we earn great fortunes abroad in the wars. We also provide shelter to merchants moving through the regions. That guides them for payment. The artists among us also fashion glass from the sands. One can make a living virtually anywhere; you need only know where to look.


    "Come, we will speak in my tent."


    As it turned out, his tent was more ornate than the others. Within it were all manner of weapons and riches. Relma gazed at them with wonder as the elf offered her a cup. "Now then, what errand is it that Lucius sent you on? Seldom have prisoners left Del Gabor unchanged?"


    "So Lucius has prisoners often?" asked Relma. "I didn''t see anyone else in my time there."


    "...He has only recently taken up residence," said the elf. "Answer the question."


    Relma paused. "He would have me deliver a message regarding the Heir of Kings."


    "And the Heir of Kings, where is she?" asked the elf.


    "Relma isn''t captured to my knowledge," said Relma. "But... Lucius seems like the sort of person who would do anything. I''d hate to think what might have happened to her."


    "Then you believe her to be dead?" asked the elf.


    "I met Lucius," said Relma. "I think... He would have killed her instantly if he thought she was a threat. And she was a threat to him."


    He nodded. "...Excellent.


    "That is one more problem solved. Come, we will bring you back to the Lady Pandora, and you may explain matters to her."


    Relma shuddered at his tone. "Thank you. May I ask your name?"


    "I am King Drakaran of the Dust Elves," said the elf. "I am pleased to hear that the enemy of my ally is dead. It is one less obstacle to my plans."


    "How is it that your people hide so easily?" asked Relma, trying to change the subject.


    "It is a rare talent our race was blessed by in the beginning of all things," said Drakaran. "Granted to us by Laevian in our forming."


    "Laevian is feared by humans," said Relma. "And everyone else, for that matter."


    "She is feared by us as well," said Drakaran. "However, she tolerates us more than she does other mortals."


    "Why does she hate mortals?" asked Relma.


    "She was against their creation at the beginning of the world," said Drakaran. "She desired that the universe be one of the wild animals without any mortal races. We were created to counteract the damage they did to the natural world."


    "That sounds dull," said Relma.


    "Have you ever been stranded in the wild?" asked Drakaran.


    "Once or twice," admitted Relma.


    "Then you should know such a realm would be dangerous," Said Drakaran. "Mortals brought about things like order and harmony. Nature is not harmonious. Nor is it chaos.


    "Nature is a sea of competing interests. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "We mortals are unnatural because we bring meaning to a meaningless world. We may consume far more than we need simply out of greed. Likewise, we may keep ourselves in check or help other races."


    "If she hates us so much," said Relma, "why is she your god?"


    "It isn''t practical for a god to not have a race," said Drakaran. "Dark spirits might be her favored species. But mortal races are an important part of any divine hegemony."


    "And why do you worship her?" asked Relma.


    "Our ancestors did, and we want to be reunited with them when we die," said Drakaran. "Many of them have become dark spirits who serve in her eternal wood."


    Relma felt in danger here. "May I ask you something, King Drakaran?"


    "Of course," said the King.


    "Why do you want the Heir of King''s dead?" asked Relma.


    "It''s nothing personal, you understand," said Drakaran, removing his helm. His dark hair fell around his shoulders. "We Dust Elves stand on a razor''s edge, and only our alliance with outside powers allows us to remain free. We play one side against the other and make alliances as we see fit.


    "But if the Heir of Kings achieves their destiny, they will have control of the three kingdoms. Baltoth will be dead. With Calisha in chaos, their next step will be to reclaim their old dominions. The Dusk Lands have only recently come into our hands, and the Heir of King''s has a claim to its rule.


    "Having outlived our usefulness, they would surely destroy us."


    "But maybe they wouldn''t even consider doing that," said Relma somewhat weakly.


    Drakaran drew off his cloak, then his chain shirt. Beneath was a toned body, visible even beneath his garments. "Then their descendants would. Humans change constantly. It is their great strength and great weakness. Because their kings change so often, their policy is constantly shifting.


    "You can''t rely on humans for more than twenty to fifty years," He turned and motioned to the guards. A servant brought forth two cups. "That was our mistake in Escor." Taking a cup, he offered it to Relma. "Will you join me for a drink?"


    Relma took the cup and noted Drakaran''s eyes on her. "...You don''t believe me, do you?"


    "No," admitted Drakaran. "I met with Lady Pandora some time ago. I know she keeps no servants, and I''ve had your description for some time. Varsus was very helpful here."


    "Was he involved in this?" asked Relma.


    "Oh, far from it. He doesn''t need to know, and he never will," said Drakaran. "The whole thing is somewhat distasteful. But when one is dealing with the fate of entire races, one must, on occasion, be a little ruthless.


    "You''ll feel no pain.


    "Your eyes will droop. You''ll drift off to sleep and then simply never wake up. Your body will be buried in sand, and the world will continue as if nothing happened. Of course, you will reincarnate, but the bloodline will be severed. The threat will have ended."


    Relma paused. She needed to stall. "...You were very open about the fact that you wished me harm. Why?"


    "Well, the bloodline of Elranor has a... sixth sense," Said Drakaran. "They can divine the nature of those they meet fairly easily, see below the surface.


    "So I thought I''d put my intentions upfront as a cover for a smaller lie. The lie: I believed you in the first place.


    "Did it work?"


    "Very well," said Relma. "You do realize this isn''t work, don''t you?"


    "You''re just stalling," said Drakaran.


    "There is a prophecy," said Relma. "It has to come true in some form. If the Heir of King''s bloodline is wiped out, it can''t happen. And I''m the last.


    "Look, this plan was very good.


    "But I think we both know that something is going to come completely out of nowhere to stop this from happening."


    "A true enough assessment if you are the only heir," said Drakaran. "Unfortunately for you, there is another bloodline."


    Relma paused. "What?"


    "Yes." said Drakaran. "Have you heard of a man named Tuor?"


    Relma knew the name, though she felt very little for it. "...Yes. He killed my parents."


    "He was a bastard son of Anoa the Bright, taught by Gail Arengeth alongside Lady Pandora. He was granted the same immortality," said Drakaran. "He later stole a powerful artifact and fled east to take up service with Baltoth.


    "A man who betrays one master will surely betray the other.


    "It is possible that the prophecy refers to Tuor overthrowing Baltoth. From there, he could later conquer Harlenor."


    "Won''t that be worse than me becoming King?" asked Relma.


    "In the short term, perhaps," admitted Drakaran. "But his reign would be unstable and shortlived. Harlenor will never submit to rule by an outside power. They are a proud and savage race, unwilling to accept slavery to anyone. Let alone one who betrayed their god.


    "The bloodline of Anoa the Bright will be destroyed. The dream of Harlenor Reunited will die. And people will cheer-"


    And then, a guard rushed into the room. "King Drakaran! Black dragons are coming right toward us! Dozens of them!"


    "And that will be Adrian Wrynncurth," said Relma.


    "Wrynncurth?" asked Drakaran.


    "Yes, I asked him to help us against Lucius a little while ago," said Relma. "A very powerful sorcerer with a great many friends.


    "Now, I''m sure you could poison me before he lands. But then someone might happen to stumble in here. After all, Elranor is probably going to be slightly upset. Gods who get angry can give you a run of bad luck at the very least." Then she raised the cup. "Conversely, you could take this cup from my hand and tell me it''s the wrong drink.


    "Then we go out there; I introduce you to Wrynncurth. From there, I turn the discussion to the possibility of a Black Dragon, Dust Elf alliance. If that works, we''ll naturally bring Telix, a son of Baltoth, into the discussions.


    "In one move, you''ll have access to the beginnings of a powerful league. And when I inherit Gel Carn, we will completely control Southern Antion.


    "You won''t be breaking with House Gabriel or De Chevlon; this is just a side deal. And if they happen to backstab you later, well, you''ll have a solid backup plan."


    Drakaran looked at her, stunned for a moment. "...You are neither as clever nor as naive as you pretend to be, Relma Artorious. We''ll play things your way for the moment."


    "Thank you." Said Relma.


    Well, that had all worked out well; now she just had to get Lucius involved. Once she managed that, the plan would be well underway...

 Chapter Nineteen: The Council of the Powers

    Relma and Drakaran quickly made their way out into the midst of the camp, and there Relma saw Wrynncurth. The cow-sized dragon had folded up his great wings and seemed to be speaking with some of the sentries. The other dragons, most of them smaller, were pacing around this way and that under the gaze of Dust Elves.


    "Many thanks, old chap. Glad to be welcomed." said Wrynncurth.


    "Wrynncurth!" called Relma, moving up to him at a run.


    The dragon removed his pipe between his teeth and smiled with his toothy maw. "Relma Artorious. Splendid to see you once again? Is the Lady Pandora about? I''d wager we have a thing or two to discuss."


    "I got separated from her," said Relma. "I''ll tell you later. Right now, there are other things we need to talk about. This is King Drakaran."


    "I know all too well," Said Wrynncurth, moving past Relma rapidly, "Drakaran, nice to see you, old chap. Hear about your coronation. Sorry about your father."


    "You know me?" asked Drakaran.


    "Oh yes, of course, old chap," Said Wrynncurth. "We haven''t met directly, but I know many people I haven''t met. Jolly good to meet face to face at last, though. Very nice city you have here. Blends into the natural landscape like a chameleon."


    "Well, we try," said Drakaran.


    "And you succeed," said Wrynncurth. "I am fond of some human architecture, but some is just tasteless. And others are so menacing you might think they expected me to be afraid of them.


    "How is it that you two came to be together?"


    "Drakaran is my host at the moment," said Relma quickly. "I only just got free of Del Gabor."


    "You escaped Del Gabor?" asked Wrynncurth, raising an eyebrow. "Now that sounds like a story in itself. Do tell?"


    "Well, actually, I was set loose," said Relma. "You see, I convinced Lucius that I might be able to help him get a meeting with you."


    "You do?" asked Wrynncurth. "And what makes you think I''d ever accepted such a thing?"


    "Well, he is one of the oldest beings in the universe," said Relma. "And he is heavily associated with undead magic. It would be him if anyone could help you with your research."


    "Well, he might," noted Wrynncurth. "But that''s the trouble with deals with his sort. It all seems very mutually beneficial, but you get deeper and deeper. Pretty soon, you''re in their service. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''m mostly self-taught myself."


    "Well, that was just the thing," said Relma. "You wouldn''t be going it alone. See, Gel Carn could act as an intermediary in the whole thing. That would bring Elranor into the equation, and Elranor is much more powerful than Lucius."


    "So that''s the scheme, eh?" asked Wrynncurth, motioning with his pipe. "Start dealings with dark powers and have their machinations help your machinations?"


    "Well, good is stronger than evil," said Relma. "And if evil men can use good ones'' for their own ends, it stands to reason that the reverse can be done."


    "And what makes you think they won''t slowly cause you to slip into evil?" asked Drakaran flatly.


    "Because I''ll be making them slip into good," Said Relma. "They won''t realize it at first, of course. They''ll say ''I''ll use this naive fool for my own ends.'' But they''ll have to do a few good things here or there, and it will get easier. And then one day, they''ll wake up and find that they''ve become good people, and I will be laughing.


    "Or something like that."


    "And what happens when you run into someone who decides they''d much rather just cave your skull in?" asked Drakaran.


    Relma took that to be a potential threat. Especially since he''d done that. "Well, I''ll improvise.


    "Where did you say Aunt Pan was?"


    "Some miles to the south, among another city of ours," Said Drakaran.


    "Right, I really appreciate your help," said Relma, deciding now was the time to leave.


    "Wrynncurth, I''m sure Aunt Pan will want to know I''m alright. Do you think one of your dragons could carry me to her? I know it''s an awful inconvenience, but I don''t want to inconvenience King Drakaran."


    "Of course. I shall carry you myself," said Wrynncurth. "I wager I ought to consult with her on all this before making any decision."


    "King Drakaran, I''m sorry we never got to have tea together," said Relma quickly, bowing to him.


    "But I hope you understand why I''m in such a hurry."


    "More than ever," said Drakaran.


    Wrynncurth bowed down, and Relma got onto his back, doing her best not to touch the spines. Then he surged, and she held on for dear life. Soon the Dusk Lands were all beneath them, and Relma could see a vast emptiness. Occasional trees could be seen, and what might have been villages. But in this place, they felt utterly alone.


    It was eerie that so many could dwell in an empty place. As if they were all just ghosts drifting through an obliterated landscape. The remnants of forgotten ages, newly diminished with each day.


    "So, do tell Relma, old girl," Said Wrynncurth. "Was he planning to murder you?"


    "Actually, yes," said Relma. "If you hadn''t arrived when you did, I''d be in trouble."


    "Thought so," said Wrynncurth, voice satisfied. "It''s why I came to Lucius'' coordinates double-quick. Dust Elves aren''t very sporting fellows. Bloody good archers, though. You are smart with words, aren''t you?"


    "My goal is to become king without killing anyone. I need to be," Said Relma, smiling despite herself.


    "But you''ve already killed people," said Wrynncurth. "Or put them in positions to be killed. And I wager you''ve stepped on an ant or two in your life."


    "Well, that''s different," said Relma.


    "How?" asked Wrynncurth curiously. "How is it different to heal someone you know will kill someone else, however much they deserve it?"


    "I suppose it isn''t much," Said Relma. "But I don''t want to ever have to take someone''s life directly. I want to help and heal people. If I go around hacking people up, it will only cause more blood.


    Wrynncurth laughed sadly." My dear, the bloodshed has been going on since well before I was born. Empires rise and fall. Worlds are created and consumed. But in the end, there is always war.


    "It will only end when one side triumphs over the others.


    "But I expect that side will only fragment and turn on itself. That is the way of things."


    "It doesn''t have to be," said Relma.


    "And why not?" asked Wrynncurth.


    "If people could come to understand one another, there could be peace," said Relma.


    "Would there?" asked Wrynncurth. "I expect there would be those who wouldn''t care, whether they understood. We are not the knowledge we possess, my dear girl. Knowledge is merely what we base our decisions and worldview. But in the end, a man who knows everything may still decide to kill a saint for no other reason than it gives him pleasure.


    "Just as an ignoramus may choose to lay down his life to save a man he has hated because he judges it right.


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    "No, I''m afraid the world won''t be so easily sorted out as all that."


    "Then what hope is there?" asked Relma. "In your mind, I mean."


    "What hope?" laughed Wrynncurth. "Why for a temporary reprieve from endless carnage. One that no one is fully satisfied with but which more or less curbs the bloodshed. And it may last a generation. Just long enough for things to recover, but not so weak that everyone needs to remember how to fight.


    "It really is the best creation we can hope for."


    "You''ve got a very depressing outlook on life," noted Relma.


    "My dear, my entire family was murdered. I could only bring them back by returning them as a mockery of their former selves," said Wrynncurth. "My soul is tied into the hoards of gold I keep throughout the lands, and I regularly practice necromancy.


    "I have a mind to ask what you expected."


    " I don''t really know," admitted Relma. "You seem the same when you''re cheerful and angry."


    "We dragons don''t have facial expressions," said Wrynncurth. "And I always keep control of my voice. It keeps people guessing."


    Then Relma had an idea. An idea that might be the key she was looking for all this time.


    "Actually, Wrynncurth, if you don''t mind. Could I bring another person into your meeting with Lucius?" asked Relma. "Someone I think you might find very helpful."


    "Really, well, who is it?" asked Wrynncurth.


    "The Fairy Queen Isriath," said Relma. "I''m not sure I''m going to be able to get her to join, but I think if she became involved, we could be in a powerful position."


    "I don''t much see what you hope to gain by this," said Wrynncurth. "But I''ve no objection. Ah, here we are."


    He descended with a swoop toward a cluster of rocks that were tents; as they landed, out of them came Aunt Pan. "Relma?! What are you... How did you escape?"


    "I talked my way out," said Relma, dismounting. "Hey, Aunt Pan, could you get me another audience with the Fairy Queen? I need to talk to her and quickly."


    "What... why? What did you do?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "Something reckless, I''ll admit," said Relma. "But if I can talk with the Fairy Queen, I think I can make it work."


    Aunt Pan looked between her and Wrynncurth. "...I could speak to her. But she prefers not to appear except in sacred sites."


    "Tell her that if this works, we will be able to gain influence over Lucius," said Relma. "Not the other way around."


    "What did you do?" asked Aunt Pan, voice furious.


    Relma shuddered. "I promised to put Lucius in contact with Wrynncurth. In exchange for several concessions, of course. But if I can get the Fairy Queen involved, I can get several more. Worst case scenario, Lucius goes home with nothing."


    "What is your plan?" asked Aunt Pan, moving forward. "And how could you think this would work?"


    "Well, Lucius is the superior negotiator, right?" asked Relma. "He has much more power than any of us. But if we get enough people involved, we can present a united front that can force him to give ground. Either that, or he just goes home and gets nothing. In which case, we still get a powerful alliance.


    "And he knows that.


    "So he may give ground or lose all influence over a powerful force." Wrynncurth chuckled. "You''ve thought this through."


    "What are you talking about?" asked Relma. "Of course, I thought it through."


    "Well, even so, it''s a good plan." Said Wrynncurth.


    "Let me see if I have this straight, Relma," Said Aunt Pan. "You willingly put yourself into the hands of Lucius and made a deal with him. And now you are planning to bring him onto a council of the most powerful forces in the region. All so that you can control him."


    "Well, yes," said Relma. "Can I have Lightning Trail back?"


    "No," said Aunt Pan. "No. I''m not cooperating with this."


    "Oh well, I guess Lucius gets more powerful, and we all lose," said Relma.


    Aunt Pan scowled and drew out Lightning Trail. "Here is your sword, Relma."


    Relma took it and smiled. "Good. I need to talk to Ajax, Fayn, and Estela."


    She found Ajax, Estela, and Fayn playing cards in the dunes a way up. Relma felt somewhat offended that they did not run to greet her. Fayn looked up from her cards. "Relma, you''re alive."


    "I told you she''d be back," said Ajax. "Pay up."


    "Fine, fine," said Fayn, handing over coins.


    "What happened?" asked Estela.


    "Not right now, Estela," said Relma. "We have someone we need to meet and soon. Follow me."


    "Where are we going?" asked Estela.


    "To an ancient shrine of an angel," said Relma, remembering it. "One that lived here long ago but is now forgotten."


    "In that case, how do you remember it?" asked Ajax.


    "Simple enough," said Relma. "I am her.


    "My memories are fuzzy."


    Relma led them from the area on a course she needed help understanding. Eventually, she came to a place that looked to be nothing but sand. Yet, as they neared it, a great wind kicked up. From the ground rose a set of standing stones. They were made from bright white stone, each with seven points. At the center was an altar, and over that was a statue of an angelic figure. It was similar in appearance to Relma.


    Yet the eyes were harder, and a sword was in her hand. Long ago, there had been worshippers in this place. But no more. Lucius had seen to that.


    "I''d say she''s a girl," said Ajax. "Why are we going here?"


    "Because I need the three of you as representatives," said Relma. "Fayn, you''re the heir of the Steward, so you''ll represent Gel Carn. Estela, you are a Princess of Escor, so you can represent your people. And Ajax, you represent Telix''s Broods.


    "I need you behind me to gain credibility."


    They stood among the standing stones that had once been the meeting place of the spirits, before the ravaging of these lands beyond repair. The three looked tired, as if they had just been awakened from a long sleep.


    Estela sighed. "Okay, we know why you want us to wait here. What makes you think this is a good idea in any way, shape, or form?


    "You want to make a deal with Lucius."


    "No, I want to create a council at which every major regional power has a seat at," said Relma. "A place where race disputes can be resolved without a war. And also a place where we can unite against a common enemy, like the Dragon Empire."


    "And you think that by getting all these powers together, you''ll be able to get them to agree on something?" scoffed Fayn.


    "I''m not sure of it," Said Relma. "But it''s better to have the conversation and figure out the problems than to not talk about it at all."


    "When was the last time you conversed with us?" asked Estela. "You just up and disappeared a few days ago! You gave yourself up to demons, and we all thought you were dead or worse! Then you come back here and start wanting us to meet with them!


    "We were worried sick!"


    "I wasn''t," said Fayn.


    "Shut up, Fayn!" snapped Estela, "Relma, you''ve got to stop going off and doing these things."


    "I didn''t have a choice," said Relma. "Well, I did, but it would have killed us all."


    "You didn''t have to attract the attention of Lucius in the first place," noted Ajax.


    "Well no," said Relma. "But then he wouldn''t have found me, and I wouldn''t have been able to talk him into making a deal." Things were fitting into place now.


    "Fine, fine," said Estela, "do what you want. But you aren''t going to do this again. Not without consulting me. You are my squire, and you should be acting like it."


    "I''m sorry," said Relma. "I just- Aunt Pan, you''re here."


    Aunt Pan walked out of the shadows, appearing tired herself. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Yes, I am. And I have been communing with the Fairy Queen. She has agreed to support your idea."


    "Oh, I was hoping to speak with her myself," Said Relma.


    "I spoke with her on your behalf," said Pan.


    And then Wrynncurth descended to land amid the stone. He put his pipe between his teeth and blew a great smoke ring. "Jolly good of you, Pandora. Now, why don''t we get straight to the point, eh? Summon forth Lucius, and come what may?"


    "I''m certain this will go down in history as one of the great blunders of the world," said Aunt Pan. "But, we are committed."


    "I find the whole thing somewhat inspiring, actually," said a familiar voice.


    Relma got chills, and so did everyone else, from the looks of it. Together, they turned to see Lucius emerging from the ground. Aunt Pan''s face went white with anger. "Lucius."


    "Lady Pandora, you look far different than last we met," said Lucius. "I still remember when you were a young girl with pigtails."


    "You ordered me flayed alive," said Pan.


    "Did I?" asked Lucius. "Ah, yes, I remember. You interfered with my affairs. I had to make an example of you¡ªvery unfortunate business for all involved, to be honest. My plans were set back by years; of course, you had to deal with the trauma.


    "Whether you believe me or not, I found it all very regrettable."


    "I half believe you," said Aunt Pan with venom in her tone. "Others are coming to this meeting."


    "Are there?" asked Lucius. "I never would have guessed."


    "Another lie, Lucius?" asked another voice like bells.


    Isriath made herself known in flowing sand. She was now tanner of skin, and the leaves around her were withered. Her clothes were far less conservative as well. Her appearance must reflect the land around her.


    "Isriath, I must thank you for cooperating with my requests in all of this," said Lucius. "It is nice of you. You look as radiant as ever."


    "I thank you, King of the Blood Rites," said Isriath cordially. "You appear veiled in shadow as always."


    "Well, young demons like Melchious prefer to take on many faces and forms," said Lucius. "Zigildrazia likes to appear as few would expect her to. As for myself, I like to play to the expectations of my children.


    "What better an appearance for the Archon of Envy than nothingness? Ironically enough, though, it is a domain I bear with good humor.


    "Still, we should get to business.


    "Adrian Wrynncurth, I have heard much about you. However, I fear we have never had the chance to meet."


    "By design, I assure you, old chap," said Wrynncurth. "Hoping not to get involved in the Withering business, even if I use some means they created. Still, Relma seems to think you may have some knowledge to help me with my designs?"


    "I have knowledge that can help in all designs," said Lucius. "As for the creation of a soul, that is a very difficult. But I know much about the subject, and I have no doubt your research has yielded similar results.


    "Were we to compare notes, I am certain we could discover the secret."


    "That is true enough to be certain," said Wrynncurth. "Of course, less jolly is some of my conditions. You see, I rely quite a lot on good relations. If I can''t trust my neighbors not to go and invade me, I can''t trust too much."


    "Naturally," said Lucius.


    "Well, this is the tricky part," said Wrynncurth. "My neighbors are all in something of a conflict with you. It''s this satyr business, tramping around fighting Dust Elves. Of course, they''re not overfond of Dust Elves, but they don''t much like the idea of them getting wiped out either."


    "Well, that is something of a problem," said Lucius. "You see, I must find an enemy for them to destroy. These have willingly laid down their lives in my service, and it would be a waste not to put them to use."


    "Understandable, of course, old chum," said Wrynncurth. "I''ve had some idea which might solve all that. The news is that the Dragon Empire is planning to march north into Escor. With the conflict between House Stormstrike and House Vortegex brewing, it seems time.


    "If those lobster scales get their claws past the passes, we''ll face a series of wars. And that won''t be good for any of us."


    "So, you hope I relocate my satyrs to the north past the Dusk Lands. Then to the west to the pass of Dragon Bones," said Lucius. "And there we''ll fight a decisive battle where all my minions will have their death in battle. And all will be satisfied.


    "An ambitious plan.


    "Unfortunately, it relies on getting an army of satyrs through Escor. All without them causing mass carnage across the land."


    "Well, old chum, I''m sure you could instruct them not to plunder or destroy," said Wrynncurth. "And after that, that''ll be Escor''s problem, not ours. If it works, we''ll have a very profitable agreement."


    "Very interesting. Why are the rest of these present?" asked Lucius.


    "We represent a Council which the Heir of Kings wishes to form," said Estela, stepping forward. "The idea is to have neutral ground where the various powers in this region can negotiate as equals. Demon, spirit, mortal, and angel. All can speak their case.


    "If one acts out of line, the others may make a plan to deal with them."


    "A clever way to maintain the status quo," said Lucius. "Or destroy it. And I imagine I must agree to join this council for our deal to have any effect."


    "Well, it''s nothing personal for a chap such as myself," Said Wrynncurth. "But we''d prefer to have assurances otherwise."


    "Excellent," said Lucius with a laugh. "Now, what do we do about the Dust Elves who want my armies destroyed? If I relocate now, they''ll be liable to overtake and destroy them."


    "I am certain that I can arrange safe passage from your lands," said King Drakara as he emerged from the shadows. "And I am equally certain I can escort your armies the rest of the way to the front. To ensure they don''t step out of line."


    "King Drakaran?" asked Aunt Pan. "I don''t believe we told you we were meeting."


    "I was made aware of it some hours ago, and I intend to have my say in the matter," said Drakaran. "This... arrangement seems a fine idea, and I am willing to support it."


    "Oh. Well, good," Said Relma. "Did I just win?"


    "I would wait until after my warriors haven''t carved a swath of destruction across Escor. Then you may declare victory," said Lucius dryly.


    Relma smiled. "Right."


    Things were looking up.

 Chapter Twenty: Homecoming

    It took a week of hard travel to get to greener pastures in Escor. The ranks upon ranks of satyrs who accompanied them did not complain or say much of anything. Nor did they fan out to look at the countryside. Estela or Varsus would glance warily at them occasionally, but nothing happened. Their obedience to him seemed absolute now that Lucius had agreed to work with them. The Dust Elves kept regular shipments of supplies going to keep them moving.


    At last, the sands gave way to grassy hills, and Estela looked pleased. She stretched her arms, throwing back her cloak as she did while her hair flew behind her in the wind. "Finally, Escor! I haven''t been back in ten years!"


    "There must be many friends waiting for you," said Relma. She wondered if she would have a chance to meet them. Now that she''d thought of it, Estela had not spoken a great deal about Escor.


    "Some," said Estela, voice darkening. "Hopefully, they''re alive. Several rebellions happened while we were gone."


    "Can''t you exchange letters?" asked Relma.


    "Most of them probably can''t read," admitted Estela. "And uh, Father never was one for wasting paper."


    "Keep ranks!" called Reginald from beside the satyr column. A hand was at the sword at his side as he walked. "Stay on the march! Your god has commanded that not one innocent death is to be done to Escor, nor damage rendered! Obey him, or you will taste my steel!"


    "Reginald seems to be having fun," said Relma. Too much fun.


    "He''s a De Chevlon," said Estela with a smile and shrug. She seemed like she was in a good mood to be coming home. "They''ve always been able to understand satyrs because they''re kin to them."


    "What does that mean?" asked Relma.


    "Oh come on, Relma," said Estela. "They''re ruled by vampires."


    "Oh right, I forgot about that," said Relma. It hadn''t seemed necessary.


    "I''m pleased to see you are enthusiastic," said Varsus. "But the tricky part has only begun. There is little to steal in this place, and enemies are elusive. In Escor, it will be another matter.


    I suggest addressing them at some point.


    "I''m surprised at how well the satyrs have behaved themselves, to be honest. I was expecting to have to keep them in line with constant executions."


    "They are devoted to their god," said Relma, feeling less herself. "These are all volunteers on a crusade, not mere raiders. They''ve come to die for their religion, not live for material gains."


    "Well, I hope we can explain that to King Vortegex," said Varsus. "Are you looking forward to going home, Estela?"


    Estela remained silent for a moment. "I''m not sure."


    "What do you mean ''you''re not sure.''" Asked Relma.


    "Well, I... my Father, he sent me away to Gel Carn," said Estela. "I''ve always wanted him to be proud of me, and well, I''m not sure how things will-"


    "It''ll be fine, Estela," said Relma, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You''ve done many great deeds since you came to Gel Carn. I''m sure he''ll be proud of you."


    Then, one of the scouts came out of the hills. "The army of Escor is ahead. They have arrayed themselves for war."


    Varsus nodded. "Run up the flag of conversation and also the banners. We''ll try to meet them."


    The army of Escor was vast indeed. It had chosen a spot between the hills with many slingers atop them. Ranks of white armored men stood with spears at the ready in the front ranks. On the flanks were men in cloth and leather with spears and perhaps an axe, if lucky.


    When they raised the banner of conversation, a figure came forward. He looked old, about sixty, but he had an aura of authority. He had a short, white beard and cut short, graying hair. A scowl was on his face as he came forward. His face looked like he spent a great deal of time scowling, actually. "House Gabriel, House De Chevlon, what treachery is this."


    "Treachery?" asked Reginald. "You speak of-"


    Varsus put a hand on his shoulder, and Reginald halted before stepping back. "No treason. And I am not the one who commands here."


    "They are mine, Father," said Estela proudly as she came forward. "Allies brought to aid Escor against its enemies."


    "Allies?" asked King Vortegex, raising an eye without expression. "You''ve brought a legion of satyrs as allies? Are you mad, girl?"


    "It was not a plan that was developed ahead of time, Father," said Estela. "For now, however, they are here to help against Stormstrike and the Dragon Empire."


    The old man scowled harder. "I take it, then, that Pandora is among your number."


    "She is, King Vortegex," said Pandora, emerging from the ranks.


    He eyed Pandora distrustfully. "We''ll discuss the matter later.


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    "For now, the Dragon Empire may strike any moment, and you''ve drawn my forces off at a critical juncture.


    "What of the treasury?"


    "I have it here," said Estela quickly, drawing off the box and offering it to him. "The winnings should go a long way to funding future campaigns."


    The King looked in a better mood at that, but he did not look at Estela. Just the box. "So they will.


    "Lady Pandora, can you ensure these satyrs stay in line?"


    "Yes," said Pandora. "Or I would not have allowed them to be brought."


    "Very well then," said King Vortegex. "General De Cathe, do you agree?"


    Edward De Cathe came forward and kneeled. "It is. And I believe that they may turn the tide at last."


    King Vortegex nodded. "Very well. Shadow the formation while it goes to the Pass of Dragon Bones. I will join you there as soon as I am able."


    "As you will, my king," said De Cathe.


    "Estela, you will head with me to the capital at once," said the King.


    "But I should be with you at the-," began Estela.


    "It is necessary to our terms with Stormstrike," Said the man, cutting her off.


    Estela stared. "Terms? After all their rebellions, you''re going to make concessions! I just made an army that could wipe them out for good!"


    The man looked to the others. "Leave us."


    Varsus quickly withdrew. Aunt Pan seemed to humor him and drew off. The King looked to Estela flatly. "Gail Arengeth has helped arrange a truce which will allow me access to their armies for good. It will secure my rule over Escor for the future. They will bend the knee and acknowledge House Vortegex as the rightful overlords. In return, your son, by Jomas Endorean, will become King after me."


    "What?!" said Estela in a fury.


    "I am marrying you into their family. Do you question this decision?" asked the King.


    Estela remained silent, looking enraged. But beneath the King''s gaze, she looked down. "No, I just... your letter said nothing about this."


    "Of course, it didn''t," said King Vortegex. "The other nations might have withheld you if they knew we were growing stronger. Now, one other thing: I note the House Gabriel and De Chevlon banners in your company."


    "Yes, Reginald and Varsus volunteered to aid us-" began Estela.


    "Fool," snapped Vortegex. "I would have dismissed them. But their presence would have made controlling the satyrs impossible. Why would you allow their kind with us? I assume you learned nothing at Gel Carn."


    "What did you want me to learn?" asked Estela. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Respect and understanding your position, for one," said the King. "A Lady of Escor gives up her sword once married."


    "And you mean to sell me to Stormstrike for an army," snapped Estela.


    "What would you do?" asked the King.


    "Unleash the satyrs on them," said Estela. "Kill the whole family. Raze the fields. Leave no one alive."


    "Set a precedent like that, and you invite a reputation as a mad dog," scoffed the King.


    "The honor of House Vortegex-" began Estela.


    "My every decision is for House Vortegex," snarled King Vortegex. "When you say ''the honor of House Vortegex,'' you mean your personal honor. You want others to regard you as outstanding, to wield a sword in battle even when it is not practical.


    "Your duty is to House Vortegex. Not honor or glory of any nonsense of Harlenor Reunited. What matters is the family and that when we die, our house will be more substantial for it.


    "This marriage will cement our control over Escor. In so doing, it will lay the foundation of a Kingdom that could last a thousand years. And time is pressing. You will marry Prince Jomas Endorean of Stormstrike when you arrive. Then, I will lead our forces to battle against the Dragon Empire.


    "Do you understand?"


    "I don''t think this is-" began Estela.


    "Do you understand?" repeated the King.


    Estela looked down. "Yes, Father."


    Relma had not seen any reason to draw off with the others. She''d been distant and reflected that she technically outranked this man. "You know you''re setting yourself up for future rebellions, right?"


    The King looked up at her like she had grown a second head. "What?"


    "Rule through fear only lasts as long as people are afraid of you," said Relma. "The second they no longer fear you, they''ll carve you to pieces unless they have an incentive not to."


    "And what would you know of such matters, girl?" said the King, drawing near.


    "Well, I did help get Estela that army heading to the Pass of Dragon Bones," said Relma. "I was the weakest party involved in those negotiations, and look at how I came out."


    "Ridiculous," said King Vortegex. "Who is this brat?"


    Estela marched forward. "A girl I have taken on as a squire, Father. She has been invaluable in-"


    "I should have known you''d lack the ability to gain respect," said the King with a snarl. And then he brought around an armored hand to strike Relma across the face. It hurt a lot, and Relma felt blood on her cheek. "Let that remind you to speak to your betters." Then he struck her again. "And that for lying."


    Relma didn''t make a sound. She wasn''t as attached to her body as most people, and she began healing the injury. It wasn''t good.


    "She, she wasn''t lying, Father. She did arrange all this," said Estela. "On my behalf."


    The King looked up. "Then perhaps your choice in subordinates is not altogether worthless. Come, a wedding awaits."


    And he stalked off. Estela moved to Relma. "Relma, don''t say anything to him. Don''t speak at all when you''re with him. I don''t want to lose you."


    "Estela, it''s fine. I''m not going to die," said Relma.


    "But you could!" said Estela. "Relma, once, when I was a child, my younger sister Cadia befriended a village boy and got close to him. They were children, but Father, he... one of his men shot the boy while hunting. It was an accident, but... well, at least that''s what we were told.


    "Early in his reign, a house called Altar rebelled against him. Father took their castle and killed everyone. He threw the Lord''s infant son from the balcony himself."


    "Didn''t you suggest doing exactly the same thing?" asked Relma.


    "I... well, I may have overreacted," Said Estela quickly. "My cousin was killed by the King of Stormstrike. And I panicked.


    "I want my Father to be proud of me."


    "He seems impossible to please," noted Relma.


    Estela sighed. "You have no idea.


    "Relma, I... I want you to stay behind. You''ll be better suited to keeping the satyrs in line anyway."


    "If that''s what you want, Estela," Said Relma.


    "It is," said Estela.


    "I gave you an order," snapped the King.


    "Yes, Father," said Estela. "I am coming."


    And so they parted. Relma decided then and there that King Tyus would set himself up for a wrong end. She just hoped Estela would not be around when it happened.

 Chapter Twenty-One: The Pass of Dragon Bones

    Relma wasn''t sure why she had said what she''d said to King Tyus. She''d felt as if she''d been speaking to him about his approach in general. Except she''d only known of him doing diplomacy. Perhaps she had been speaking of his treatment of Estela?


    Relma decided to stop being so detached and focus on the now.


    The now soon turned miserable.


    It rained half the time as they walked west along the hills. There was little water in this place, and whenever they came to pools of water, they would drink it dry. The air was chilly and the sky dark, especially when you were near the Ghost Mountains.


    The Ghost Mountains were the worst. They''d come within sight of them soon, and they rose into the sky like a thousand clawed fingers. Winds howled down from them, and the trees around them moved. Speaking of trees, the closer they reached the Ghost Mountains, the nastier they became. Leaves became spikes so you could cut a hand on them.


    And all the while, the army of Escor moved some ways away in their shadow. Relma spent her days healing sprained ankles and helping however she could. It felt odd; she had raised this army, but now she had faded to the background. Varsus spent his days making decisions and organizing the distribution of supplies. Reginald and his men, alongside some of De Cathe''s subordinates, kept the satyrs in line. Sometimes they also negotiated with the warriors.


    Everyone kept busy, and no one was happy.


    Except for the satyrs, of course. All of them had brought wine with them and drank of it greatly. They drank and laughed with eachother, occasionally sparring in the camp. None seemed to care that they were being looked at with obvious distrust.


    Relma hoped Estela was doing well. She felt helpless despite all she''d done. What could she do to help Estela? She supposed that depended on who she was marrying. Estela had obviously decided to go through with it. Tyus seemed utterly unreasonable, or at least dead set.


    Jomas Endorean could be more reasonable.


    That was why she approached Varsus one day as he led from the front. Fayn got there first. "Varsus, I need to ask, who is this Jomas Endorean?"


    "The Prince of the Second Dynasty of Stormstrike," said Varsus. "They are descended from the hill clans who once dwelled in the Dusk Lands and rose in rebellion against Anoa II. They''ve always kept to themselves and have always sought to break free. Even after Harlenor United broke apart, they kept trying."


    "Right, that doesn''t answer my question," said Fayn.


    "The Endorean family is the second dynasty to rule Stormstrike. It was after they wiped out the last one, the Stormstrikes. But the Endoreans broke free during the Escorian Civil War. They were only brought to vassal status," said Varsus. "Uncle and I have been expecting a full-scale war for years."


    "Okay, but who is Jomas Endorean?" asked Fayn.


    Varsus sighed. "He is... not bright."


    "Not bright?" asked Relma.


    Varsus shrugged. "From what I''ve heard, he is a good fighter, and I met him once. He is reasonably nice but generally the last person to arrive at a given conclusion. He misses obvious things and is somewhat slow."


    "Has Estela ever met him?" asked Fayn.


    "You have known Estela as long as myself, Fayn. You tell me," said Varsus,


    Fayn frowned. "Well, it just seems a bit abrupt, is all. He ought to have let her meet the groom first."


    "I''m afraid that King Tyan regards such things as a mere formality," said a kind old voice.


    At that moment, an old man stepped out of the shadow of the hills. The old man''s long white beard was a bit longer. However, his face was smooth as ever, and his gnarled staff tapped the ground as he walked forward.


    "Aren!" cried Relma before running toward him.


    "Gail Arengeth? You''re here," said Varsus, voice cold. "What is going on here?"


    "Nothing pleasant," said Arengeth. "Though you seem to have provided some good news."


    "Did you really arrange that marriage?" asked Relma.


    "It was my only option," said Arengeth regretfully. "I needed to mend the relations between Endorean and Vortegex. A political marriage will cement ties between them. At least long enough to fend off the Dragon Empire.


    "I sent a messenger to Gel Carn to inform you of it, but they must have been waylaid along the way. Most unfortunate, he was a good man."


    "You should have asked Estela first," said Relma.


    "It is Tyan''s right to choose who he wills for his daughter," said Arengeth. "Just as it was his choice not to inform her until now. I''m doing all I can to ensure Escor doesn''t fall to pieces. If Endorean and Vortegex defeat the Dragon Empire together. That may create the foundation of a new Escor. One that isn''t tormented by endless civil war."


    "Why does the Dragon Empire want to get past the Pass of Bones anyway?" asked Fayn. "They''ve been repulsed a dozen times over the centuries."


    Arengeth looked up. "Fayn, you seem to be trying to earn the position you bought."


    "I already did," said Fayn.


    Arengeth frowned. "In any case, the Dragon Empire has a nobility entirely consisting of Red Dragons. Each one controls a certain amount of land and is forbidden from killing one another. Since Dragons never die of old age, the empire must expand.


    "Either that or exile members of its nobility to foreign lands. I''ve dealt with several of those exiles.


    "The Pass of Dragon Bones is the only way to the north. Not unless you head west to the borders of Sorn."


    "But why can''t they just fly over?" asked Relma.


    "Fly over the Ghost Mountains?" asked Arengeth. Everyone gave her a look, and Relma realized she''d said something very foolish.


    "Oh, right, of course," said Relma, remembering the stories she''d heard of those mountains. No one lived in those domains, and everyone held it in terror. Even Erik the Voyager had not managed to cross it.


    At that moment, Reginald rushed up. "Varsus, we''ve still got no word from the supply caravans the Dust Elves promised us. The satyrs brought their own supplies, but I''m concerned we''ll run out."


    Varsus sighed. "Send out foraging parties to look for food. Satyrs are good at such things and keep them moving. But keep them away from the north. There are plenty of plants growing in this region."


    "Why does no one live here?" asked Relma, looking around at the empty wilds. You could see vast tracts of bushes and fields on either side of the camp. Yet she realized she hadn''t seen one farm. "I know we''re near the Ghost Mountains, but couldn''t there be some farms?"


    "The realm itself works against those who try to farm," said Aren. "I suspect Laevian has chosen this land as one of her own. Those who do settle here tend to have bad luck at best. A few hunters eke out a living, but they cut no wood unless it has already fallen."


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    "Speaking of which," said Reginald, "I''ve been talking with the satyrs. They are here to die. Their primary hope is to be killed surrounded by thousands of corpses. What if we win without taking too many losses?


    "They''ll still be here?"


    "We could unleash them on the Dragon Empire and let them rape, pillage, and burn indefinitely," said Fayn. "That will kill them and weaken our enemies."


    "That''s a bit ruthless," said Relma.


    "Do you want them destroying our enemies or our friends?" asked Fayn.


    "I would not call King Tyus and myself friends," said Varsus, sounding faintly offended.


    "I''d rather not resort to that," said Arengeth. "Even if there is no other way, the Dragon Empire is nearly impossible to capture. Dragons are not easy to defeat, and hundreds are in the Dragon Empire. There will almost certainly be an easier target." He paused. "Where is Pandora? I meant to speak with her?"


    "She disappeared," said Fayn with a scoff. "As usual. Something about contacts."


    "Did she say when she''d be back?" asked Aren.


    "No," said Fayn with a sigh. "Ajax went out on ahead."


    "He went to the pass?" asked Arengeth. "He might be shot on sight. Escor has hated his kind for many years."


    "What do you mean ''his kind?''" asked Relma.


    "I meant to say that Escor has bad blood with the Broods of Telix," said Arengeth.


    "What happens if he is killed?" asked Fayn.


    "...Then we have a serious problem," said Aren.


    "Don''t worry," said Relma. "Ajax slipped past all the guards in Gel Carn when he first kidnapped me. He''ll be able to slip over some wall." sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Slip over?" asked Aren.


    "Yeah," said Relma, "he said he was going to scout the Dragon Empire."


    "Why didn''t you say anything?" asked Varsus.


    "Ajax does whatever he wants," said Relma. "And it wasn''t like it mattered anyway. He said he''d meet back up with us."


    "This still leaves the matter of the satyrs," said Varsus.


    "I say we use the satyrs as arrow fodder," said Fayn. "Give them all the worst jobs and send them into every hellish fight we want to spare the men from." Drawing out her axe she brought it down and cleaved it into the barren earth.


    "That is not tactically sound," said Varsus, adjusting his cloak. "And I liked your first suggestion better. Lucius greatly controls the Road of Ancient Stone, and these satyrs dwell within it. Let''s do all we can to conserve our forces.


    "Once we are victorious, we will seek to do as much damage to the Dragon Empire as possible. Historically, there have been several successful raids into it. So if properly commanded, we could cause great damage."


    "That sounds fun to me," said Reginald. "If we coordinate with the Escorian army, we might be able to obliterate their ability to raise armies."


    "Do you think we could try to devise a strategy that is not based on sacking towns and killing off our own men?" asked Relma.


    "They want to die," said Fayn with a shrug.


    Arengeth sighed. "I find this discussion distasteful, Gabriel. But it is a question we can contemplate later. For now, the Pass of Dragon Bones lies ahead."


    Relma could only hope the Pass of Dragon Bones would be more pleasant than this place. She suspected she''d be disappointed.


    On they went until they saw a gap in the mountains. The pass was sheer, and all the ground here was burned and barren. Several villages could be seen before it, and there, at the mouth, was a long stone wall with many buildings. It was a fortress stretching between the mountains.


    Flames were rising, and men were fighting on top of it. The banner of Escor was shaking alongside another. It was a yellow banner with the symbol of a spear passing through a dragon, and men were fighting to defend it.


    "The castle is under attack!" said Reginald


    "Forward, quickly!" cried Varsus, drawing his sword. "We must reinforce the walls! To the Pass of Dragon Bones!"


    And then there was a charge. Relma went for her sword and ran forward with Varsus and the others. As the armies surged forward en masse, Aren raised a hand, and a great wind kicked up behind them. It pushed them forward, even as the wall was nearly taken.


    Then the satyrs reached it. Howling and screaming, they surged up the open stairs and tore into the attackers. Relma was glad Varsus had instructed them as to who they should be fighting. Otherwise, she was sure they''d have killed everyone on the wall. Even as she neared the steps, she saw them tearing into the attackers.


    One of their corpses was thrown down from the wall and landed at her feet, even as she slowed. He was a muscular, tanned man wearing only a metal mask, a loincloth, and a reverse sickle blade in one hand. His stomach had been carved open.


    Relma felt sick but looked up to where the satyrs were streaming across the wall, turning the tide. They might need her; Lightning Trail alone could inspire them to victory, though not her. Raising it, she rushed up the steps and found Varsus fighting with one of the enemies.


    Before Relma could think, someone cut the man down from behind. He wore yellow and had a brown stubble. He looked at Varsus, then at the combat. Even now, more of the enemy were streaming up to fight. The enemy forces were vast and seemed to be pressing up the walls.


    "Satyrs? What is the meaning of this?" asked the man.


    "We''re here to reinforce you," said Varsus.


    "To death and blood!" cried a satyr from the fray. "For Lucius, the Ancestor!"


    "For Harlenor Reunited!" cried Varsus, raising his sword and rushing into the fray.


    "For Harlenor Reunited!" cried the man with a shrug.


    "Lightning Trail! Lightning Trail for Harlenor!" cried Relma, making a show of rushing in so people could see the sword. She immediately started looking for people to heal, ducking under sword swings. She made her way through the fray as best she could.


    There were plenty of wounded and dead as well.


    She crossed the wall and came up another set of stairs to a gatehouse. There were the two gatehouses, and men were fighting all around them. One man fell back with his throat slashed, and she stooped to heal him. As she did, a tan man stabbed her with a spear. Relma parried the first thrust, but the second went into her leg.


    Screaming, she looked up as the man drew the spear to finish her.


    And then a shadow loomed over him. The man turned around, and then a mace hit him. His head sailed into the distance in a shattered mess as blood spewed from the stump. Even as his body collapsed, an armored giant of a man turned and used his mace. He swung it around, and with each stroke, he smashed men to pieces.


    Armor was useless against him. Shields simply broke without even impeding his blows. And every impact reduced men to bloody chunks as he waded through silently. Where he went, the enemy fled.


    Then he turned and moved toward her. Relma remembered her wound and tried to heal it as he kneeled down. Even kneeling, he towered over her, and one of his hands seemed like it could crush her skull. He touched her, and the wound healed. But his hand clenched on her shoulder, and she winced in pain.


    He drew back and removed his helmet. Beyond was revealed an expressionless, brown-haired face with dull eyes. "I am sorry. Mother tells me I should warn others before doing that. Who are you?"


    Relma got up, raising Lightning Trail. "I''m Relma Artorious, the Heir of Kings. Who are you?"


    He looked at her warily and put his helmet back on. "... You''re not supposed to be here. The Heir of Kings is a legend, so you don''t exist."


    "Well, we always have. It''s more of a title than a person," said Relma.


    "I hope so," said the man.


    Relma looked around and realized that the enemy had been repulsed. They fled down the ladders and away from the wall, and the satyrs were fast behind. Looking at this giant, she realized his face had looked young. About Estela''s age. "Who are you?"


    "My name is Jomas Endorean," said the giant. "I''m here to help fight."


    Relma frowned. "But aren''t you supposed to be getting married?"


    "I got a letter that said that," said Jomas, voice full as he kneeled by a wounded man. "But this seemed more important."


    "The whole Alliance relies on your presence," said Relma, joining him in healing people.


    "Alliances break. We should fight," said Jomas.


    So began the healing. As Relma walked through the bodies, she saw the signs of Jomas'' rampage everywhere. Wherever she looked, dozens of corpses smashed and marred by his mace. They lay all along the wall, and men stared at him in awe. Even the satyrs looked impressed.


    "Jomas Endorean fights like a monster," said a man. "How can... how can anyone do this?"


    "He''s a bit simple," said another. "but, well, very good in a fight."


    "I''ve seen people with the blood of gods do less," said another man.


    As Relma worked at the wounded, she looked from the wall. There, she saw the satyrs and many other forces meeting the enemy. Varsus, Fayn, De Cathe, and Reginald could be seen at the front, those who had come with them fighting. Once more, the enemy army broke and fled.


    The satyrs rushed after them, even as Varsus called the Harlenorians to a halt. Heedless of the orders, the hordes of satyrs rushed toward the edge of the pass. Beyond it, Relma could see green.


    And then there came the beat of sings. From the clouds above descended fantastic red beasts like Wrynncurth. But far larger; the smallest were more than three times as large. Their wings reached nearly as far as the edge of the pass as they dove low. Opening their mouths, they unleashed a wave of flame on the satyrs. The entire front ranks were burned to cinder in mere moments.


    The others scrambled backward quickly as the dragons swooped back. The armies reformed and fled back. But the dragons drew back and perched at the edge of the pass as the men ran back.


    "Damned dragons!" snapped a satyr on the wall. "Fight on the ground like men!"


    "Why wouldn''t they just attack this fortress?" asked Relma, feeling sick.


    "Look," said Jomas, pointing down the wall. Relma followed his hand and saw what he was motioning at. The entire wall was lined with heavy machines bristling with spears. "Those can pierce dragon armor. Aren enchanted them to always strike true. You''d have to destroy those before the Reds could try for a pass."


    Aren. Relma ought to go find him. "Thank you. I have to go."


    She wandered through the wall, healing the wounded wherever she found them. Eventually, she came to Aren, speaking with a soldier. "Where is your commander?" She heard him say.


    "Commander Telbus is dead," said the man. "A Tharatan stabbed him. I pulled him out, but he was dead before I could get him to the healers."


    "Then who is in charge?" asked Aren. "Where is his second in command?"


    "Dead as well," said the man. "Most people on the wall are dead. We were hard-pressed.


    Especially with Tyus pulling off a lot of men to try and stop you."


    Where was Aunt Pan? She should have been here. Aren sighed long and hard. "Very well then, I suppose I must take command myself."


    "...Can you do that?" asked Relma.


    "I don''t have authority overlords," said Aren. "But the Dragon Watch was established by me. They answer to me as well." He sighed. "There you are." Then Aren shook his head sadly and looked at the man. "Who is the highest-ranking officer left alive?"


    "Captain Tren De Cathe," said the man. "He''s in the healing rooms."


    "Then I''ll see to him at once," said Aren. "Relma, come with me and help me heal any remaining."


    Relma hurried behind him as he made his way off the wall and to a door built into the gatehouse. As he knocked, Relma shifted Lightning Trail beside her. "Who is the Dragon Watch?"


    "An organization I established some decades ago to protect this pass," said Aren. "Or was it centuries? Whatever the case, they operate independently of any lord. And they are forbidden from fighting Harlenorians."


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "During the Civil War, we were afraid the Dragon Empire would conquer us while we were divided," said Aren. "They almost did, so I was asked for help. This was my way of helping. Though Pandora always felt it was the wrong move."


    "What did she feel was the right move?" asked Relma.


    "It was a terrible idea and not at all pleasant," said Aren, opening the door.


    "Where is Aunt Pan?" asked Relma. "I haven''t seen her all day?"


    "I sent her on another errand," said Aren. "We generally don''t stay in the same place for very long. Two lords here have been having a dispute, and we need someone to mediate. Since I am needed here, the duty fell to here."


    In they went, and then there was a shrill woman''s scream.


    "That came from the healing room," said Aren. "Follow me and keep Lightning Trail close."

 Chapter Twenty-Two: The Dragon Empire

    Relma and Aren scurried through the halls as quickly as possible, worrying they might be too late. Coming to a door, Aren flung it open and marched into a long hall. There were many beds upon which wounded lay, and healers were there. But many were looking on in horror at several satyrs wearing bloodied bandages. Even now, they shambled toward the door.


    "What goes on here?" asked Aren.


    "Undead, Lord Arengeth!" cried a woman. "The corpses of the dead satyrs have risen from the grave!"


    The corpses shambled past Aren, making for the door with a groan. Relma stepped to one side and realized what was happening. "They aren''t attacking anyone. They''re just trying to get out."


    On they went, and Aren followed after the creatures and out to the gatehouse. As they exited the doors, they found many more walking dead. The creatures were all satyrs, gathering before the gates in great ranks. They pushed against them as men looked on with bows and arrows.


    "What is happening here?" said the brown-bearded man from before. Though he walked with a crutch and a drawn sword.


    "Quickly open the doors," said Aren.


    "What?" said the man.


    "Open the doors and let them out of the fort," said Aren.


    "You think they''ll just leave?" asked the man.


    "Do it now," said Aren. "Before they become violent."


    The doors were swung open, and the bodies of the dead marched on out by the hundreds. How many had died to make such an army? How many would die to them before they were destroyed? What was the good of all this blood, really?


    Beyond the walls, Relma saw many other bodies rising from the fields. In ranks, the dead marched toward the entrance of the pass. Some of the bodies were blackened and charred from dragon fire. It gave her chills, and she was glad she was not fighting them.


    Aren sighed in the longsuffering tone of one who had seen it all before. Which, of course, he had. This is what Pandora described. The dead rising again. I haven''t seen anything like this since the last Age of Withering."


    "Where are they going?" asked a man.


    "Toward blood and death before the end!" cried Shren, coming forward. "Go, my brethren! Tear the servants of dragons apart! Let this blood water these parched lands!


    "Who are we fighting anyway?"


    "The Dragon Empire, a nation ruled by the Red Dragon Flight," said the man.


    "Why would humans follow dragons?" said Shren.


    "I don''t know," said the man. "Nobody knows anything about the Dragon Empire. Few people who pass through these gates ever come back." Then he looked up to see De Cathe emerging through the gates. "Cousin, it''s been a long time!"


    "Tren, you''ve grown since last we met," said De Cathe. Relma wondered how they knew one another beyond blood relation. "How is life in the Dragon Watch?"


    "Reasonable," said Tren. "I''m at my third year, so one more, and I''ll be able to move on." So you had to serve the Dragon Watch for four years at least. Useful information to remember if Relma ever wanted someone out of the way.


    "You could stay longer. It is an honorable profession," said De Cathe. And one not easily dropped at that.


    "I don''t want to," admitted Tren, and Relma did not blame him there. What she''d seen so far had been bloody. "The endless raids do little to help my temperament. And now that House Endorean is bending the knee, there should be peace."


    "You still hold feelings for Isara?" asked De Cathe.


    "I do," said Tren. "When things have settled down, I hope to marry her. What of your quest for the sword? Any regrets?" Relma decided she ought to help him and began working to heal his body from a distance. It was difficult, and the focus made it all the harder.


    "I travel in the company of the Heir of Kings, Tren," said De Cathe. "That is honor enough. In truth, I sought to draw Lightning Trail because a dream drew me there. House De Cathe is said to have a distant relation to Anoa II, so I thought we might qualify.


    "Instead, Estela, Ronald, and Relma found it."


    "What do you think of King Tyus'' decision?" asked Tren.


    "I believe it could have been handled better," said De Cathe. "King Tyus is a hard man with little in the way of sympathy. Yet he didn''t even acknowledge her accomplishments."


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    "Well, whether he did or not, it''s better if we aren''t at war with Endorean," said Tren. "I remember my first battle. I fought a militiaman in a skirmish, one of those who worked for the Endorean Lords. He tried to take me prisoner, even though we both knew he didn''t stand a chance.


    "I remember I stabbed him in the chest, and he screamed and screamed.


    "Then and there, I never want to fight another Escorian again. We should be brethren, as all Harlenorians are." Relma wasn''t sure such romantic notions had much basis in reality. If the Tournament of Kings was any indication, rivalry persisted. But a sense of brotherhood among Harlenorians seemed like something worth working toward.


    Yet how to do it? Relma would have difficulty moving about and consolidating control. Let alone moving hearts and minds. Estela would be absolutely critical here. Relma had no hope of working with Escor without her as a friend, which would weaken her in Antion and Haldren. No, she needed all three nations for this.


    "And what of those you fight here?" asked De Cathe.


    "They aren''t really human," said Tren quickly. "Yes, they have the shape of one, but you can tell from how they move that nothing is left inside. I don''t know what the Dragons did to these people, but these things are worthy only of death.


    "I''ve seen them eat men alive. They''re like animals."


    "You realize that is a compliment, don''t you?" said a low growl.


    Tren jumped, dropping his crutch and finding himself able to watch. Ajax had slipped through the gates and was crouching behind him. His mouth was stained with blood, and his hair was more messy than usual. He looked in a truly foul mood.


    "What the..." said Tren, raising his sword. "What the devil is that!"


    Ajax said nothing, merely facing him down as though daring him to try something. Tren kept his sword up, and a long silence ensued as the two matched.


    "Stay your blade, Tren," said De Cathe, raising a hand with a laugh. "This is Ajax, one of our company. Ajax, I did not see you during the battle. Where have you been?"


    Ajax stood up and wiped his mouth. "Scouting. I slipped out into the wilderness during the retreat and spoke with the local wolves. Got a look at the enemy army, though it was a near thing.


    "I did get a particularly fat rabbit, though. I found them in a farmer''s cage."


    "What are they doing?" asked Aren.


    "Feeding the wounded to the dragons for one thing," said Ajax. "The wolves tell me they do this all the time."


    "All the time, what do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "According to the wolves, when a baby is born who is disfigured or flawed, they are fed to the dragons," said Ajax. "When someone is permanently injured, feeding yourself to the dragons is tradition. Every year, a festival is where the most beautiful women in the region are fed to the local dragon.


    "Also, criminals sentenced to execution are devoured by dragons. In fact, most crimes are punishable by being eaten by a dragon."


    "That''s monstrous," said Tren.


    "You do realize that you leave the flawed babies in Escor to the wolves, don''t you?" asked Ajax deadpan. "Or at least you used to. Good times. My packmates tell me they taste good."


    "You didn''t really," said Relma.


    "Of course not." snapped Ajax in irritation. "I''m part human, so I''m not allowed to eat human babies. The other wolves never let me hear the end of that."


    "I believe he meant the fair maidens being devoured," said De Cathe.


    "Why would the people ever stand for this?" asked Relma.


    "Well, they believe that the greatest of them will be reincarnated as dragons," said Ajax. "Or reincarnated as part of the upper class, the nobility who aren''t subject to being eaten by dragons."


    "How have you learned this much so quickly?" asked Aren, sounding curious.


    "Father sent wolf scouts through into the Dragon Empire when he had holdings in Escor," said Ajax. "The Dragons scorch any human caravan or force that gets past these mountains. But wolves generally go unnoticed.


    "And I''m good at finding my way through places without being seen. Though I had one or two close calls here, it happens in unfamiliar territory."


    "How is it possible that nobody knows anything about the Dragon Empire until now?" asked Relma. It seemed like a tremendous oversight to make. Especially given how long hostilities had been fought between them. Then again, Escor had been in chaos for a long time, even before the Escorian Civil War. And before that, there had been the Haldrenian and Babarassian raids to contend with.


    "As the wolfman said, the Dragons burn anyone who tries to head through our part of the pass," said Tren. "They tell us nothing about themselves. The last time we got a messenger from them was, I believe, two hundred years ago."


    "Two hundred years?" asked Relma. "And you''ve been fighting all this time."


    "More or less," said Tren. "Sometimes we get the idea of trying to invade, but the Tharatan know this land well and ambush them. And if it''s not the Tharatan, it''s the Dragons."


    "But surely they must have tried to contact you when they got through the pass," said Relma. "Aren, haven''t you ever talked with them?"


    "I have, once or twice," said Aren. "But honestly, the border with the Dragon Empire has always been a lower priority for me. Two hundred years ago, I did speak with Queen Vanessa, but a lot could have changed in that time.


    "As for negotiations, they seized cities and killed or enslaved the entire populace. Those who weren''t fed to the dragons were worked to death in mines or, if lucky, taken as house slaves."


    "They don''t try to learn our language; all of those who spoke with us were imbued with the will of Vrengar," said Tren. "They never surrender, nor do they offer terms of surrender."


    "How do they plan to conquer anything if they can''t negotiate peace?" asked Relma.


    "Perhaps you could ask them," said Tren. "If you want to brave the pass and talk to the Dragons. Assuming they don''t destroy you."


    "No, I can''t do that," said Relma before getting an excellent idea. "But I know someone who can. Aren, I need your help to send a letter to Adrian Wrynncurth in the Dusk Lands."


    "To what end?" asked Aren.


    "Wrynncurth and his children are the descendants of Smyngoth. And Smyngoth was the mentor of Vrengar. Vrengar is the God of the Red Dragon Flight." said Relma. "Or at least he ascended into Godhood. So maybe they''ll listen to him."


    "Well, it may be worth the effort, though I doubt we''ll stop centuries of war," said Aren. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What will you tell Shren if peace does break out?" asked Ajax, eyeing where the satyrs were beginning to hack up some Tharatan corpses.


    "Um... well... I''m sure I can figure something out," said Relma.


    "You might want to do that now," said Aren. "Satyrs are not known for their forethought."


    Some ways away, the satyrs began to feast on the bodies of the dead. Relma averted her eyes and tried to come up with a backup plan. She had the feeling she would need one badly and soon.

 Chapter Twenty-Three: Bloodlines

    Father was in his tent.


    They were halfway to the capital and near the Castle of Tanus Gar, where Estela had stopped. That had been years ago when she''d first been sent away. Now, she was returning and about to be married. On some level, Estela knew this was a good thing. She was being given a marriage that would ensure the security of Escor and Vortegex.


    Her son would be king. And the money she had brought with her could go a long way to ensuring House Vortegex''s security. It could raise armies or build roads.


    So she told herself as she parted the tent flap and entered. There was Father at his table. He''d brought it with him in one of the ox carts. Now, he was sitting at it, his quill scratching as he wrote one message after another. Estela sat down before him and waited.


    And waited.


    At last, King Tyus looked up to her, narrowing his eyes. He always used that expression when meeting with her. Estela had grown up on it. "You requested a meeting with me?"


    Why had she had to request one? She was his daughter, and she''d more than proved herself.


    "Yes, I, I was wondering how things were going in the castle?" asked Estela.


    "Have you not been paying attention girl?" asked Father.


    "No, I meant I wanted to know how the people in the castle were doing," said Estela quickly, feeling intimidated. "Like Teran and my sister, Cadia. How are my brothers?"


    Tyus eyed her with a look that said she was wasting his time. How was this a waste? "You choose to waste my time so you could ask me questions you could learn from any of the guards?"


    "I... I felt you would have a more perceptive perspective on the subject," said Estela, looking away.


    Tyus remained silent a moment. Then he set the quill down and leaned back, scowling. "Cadia has married the heir to the De Cathe family name, Esmond. It is a good match that solidified their loyalty to us. We are to go through her home tomorrow."


    "Does she ever ask about me?" asked Estela.


    "I haven''t seen her in some years," said Tyus without looking up. "That matter is irrelevant.


    "Sending you to Gel Carn seems to have been an excellent investment. I have gained a powerful Alliance which helped solidify my hold here. And your presence in Gel Carn has born other fruit."


    Well, it was some acknowledgment of her achievements. More than she had expected. "Thank you, Father." S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Now, about the Heir of Kings.," said Tyus, changing the subject. "Who is she, and does she represent a threat?"


    Did she represent? Estela felt annoyed. Couldn''t he at least answer her questions first? "You punched her in the face yesterday."


    "What?" said Tyus, going very still.


    "She is my squire. That''s why she felt so free to cite her opinion," said Estela. "Technically, she outranks us."


    "Technicality and reality are very different things," snarled Tyus. Then he looked at one gloved hand. "Still, her very existence is a threat to House Vortegex." Estela shifted beneath his gaze, and he marked the movement. "You have a different view?"


    "Relma is too nice for her own good," said Estela. "But she is also very cunning and in a situation where she needs us. I am... close to her. And she is set to inherit Gel Carn someday.


    "When she does, we could swear a nominal oath of fealty. No tribute or anything. But she could act as a figurehead in case of crisis."


    "You would subjugate us to a foreign power," said Tyus incredulously. "I would have thought you''d learned better than that."


    "No, I mean... you said yourself that technicality and reality are two different things," said Estela. "If she becomes High King, we can use her to ensure our independence."


    "House Vortegex is subordinate to no one," said Tyus. "Not a king, council of lords, or even gods. We defeated House Gabriel, and we outwitted House De Chevlon. We will not subjugate ourselves to any foreigner. To do so would destroy all our hopes for the future."


    "And what are those?" asked Estela, not liking the sound of this.


    "Once we have solidified control over Escor, we may turn our attention abroad," said Tyus.


    "Perhaps conquer territory from the Dragons. Or seek control over Haldren. I gather there is some instability, King Gavin fears House Gabriel.


    "The snake might provide us a pretense for future victory.


    "You have met the heir to House Gabriel, have you not?"


    "Yes, I met William Gabriel," said Estela, remembering the proud bastard.


    "Give me your observations," said Tyus. "You must have made some."


    Estela paused. "He''s proud, dangerous, and extremely skilled. But he is also a healer. On his way back, he went from village to village and healed all the sick and injured."


    "Impossible," scoffed Tyus. "Even the most experienced healers cannot accomplish such a feat. He should have been occupied for weeks."


    "I saw him run Joseph Korlac through the chest during the Tournament of Kings," said Estela. "He healed him moments later and didn''t even look tired. He is also solid and capable of performing incantations."


    Tyus paused. "Then he may well be worthy of his heritage. Unlike some others, I might name."


    Estela had had enough. He had yet to tell her anything at all. "Where are my brothers, Father? Where are Otto and Rinseld? Why is some heir of Endorean going to inherit the Kingdom instead of your rightful sons."


    Tyus scowled all the deeper. "Otto is dead. As for Rinseld, he is out of the question."


    Otto dead? How was this possible. Why hadn''t Estela been told? "How did Otto die? Why didn''t you tell me?"


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    "It was five years ago in a battle with the Dragon Empire," said Tyus. "The fool tried to launch an invasion. He killed a few dragons, burned a few towns, and then was caught in an ambush. He killed many of our soldiers in that insanity, and I had to put down another round of rebellions."


    "How could you not tell me of this?" asked Estela. "Why was no word sent to Gel Carn?"


    "What difference would it have made if you''d known?" shot back Tyus. "I had dozens of more important matters to attend to. Any one of which could have spelled the end of the Kingdom if not addressed.


    "You may mourn on your own time. The dead do not care whether we lament them or not. For now, you should get some rest."


    It was a dismissal. Estela rose and bowed. "...Yes, Father."


    So she turned and walked out. Otto had always been so kind to her, helping her with swordplay. Now, he was dead.


    Estela spent the next hour or so polishing her armor and weapons on a rock. As she did so, she looked up the path. Soon, she''d have no more use for weapons or armor. But she wanted them to look as good as she could make it.


    Then, she saw a troop of men approaching the camp. Carried between them was a litter with frilly white curtains on it. Estela sheathed her sword as the litter neared her. What was going on here?


    "Estela, Estela, is that you?" asked a voice.


    The curtain was thrust aside as a pretty blonde woman peered out, and Estela knew her. She smiled as she recognized her sister. "Cadia, you''ve grown up."


    "We both have, I suppose," said Cadia. "That armor suits you a great deal. A shame you won''t be wearing it anymore."


    "Yes, a shame," said Estela. "What is the purpose of this litter?"


    "Oh, I''m told it is a fashion within Dinis in the Far East," said Cadia. "I rather enjoy it. My dear husband can afford many luxuries."


    "Father told me you married," said Estela.


    "Oh yes, Esmond is a powerful and highly influential knight," said Cadia. "Very intelligent and rich. I''m the envy of all the ladies of court. My sympathies in that regard."


    "Well, that''s good to know," said Estela, noting that the last part seemed a jab. She chose to ignore it.


    "Of course, I''m afraid you''ve had less luck," said Cadia, making another. "You see, the rumor is that Prince Jomas Endorean is a simpleton. It is powerful and bold, perhaps of some use for looks. But no cunning."


    "Cadia, did you come here to greet or mock me?" asked Estela.


    "Oh, I''m sorry if I seemed insensitive; you are marrying a Prince of Endorean after all," said Cadia. "I''m merely here to give my regards to Father. He''s had Esmond doing a lot of important things."


    "You are mocking me," surmised Estela.


    "Really, Estela, what could make you think that?" asked Cadia.


    "I wouldn''t advise doing that, Cadia. Some of us actually paid attention to the practice field," said Estela coldly.


    "Really, sister, must you jest so," asked Cadia, stepping out. "Here I''ve come to greet you, and you repay me angrily. You were never going to amount to anything as a knight anyway. We both know you''ve only done as well as you did because of the Heir of Kings.


    "You really ought to behave in a more ladylike fashion."


    "How many people have you killed, Cadia?" asked Estela.


    However Estela had said it, it got Cadia''s attention. She looked suddenly at Estela, appearing nervous. "None, of course. I ply my hand at the craft at peace."


    "Stare down an army of soul-devouring demons. Then tell me I''m unladylike," said Estela, feeling a cold fury, and she put her hand to her sword. "Until then, leave me alone."


    "Very well then," said Cadia, freezing and stepping back a pace. "I understand this must be a stressful period. I''ll see you at the wedding." And she moved off.


    Estela sat down by her armor. "Bitch," she snarled.


    Cadia did not talk to Estela on the way back out. However, when she did, she looked furious and gave Estela a vicious glare on her way out. Estela guessed that she had not known that Estela''s son would be King. No doubt Cadia was expecting for herself to become King someday.


    Father came out just as she finished cleaning her armor. He looked in a good mood now; his scowl was not as prevalent. He looked at her. "Estela, are you prepared?"


    "Yes," said Estela.


    Tyus nodded. "Good. Ready your things; we will continue on to Carn Ganus. There, your fianc¨¦e will meet you."


    "Of course, he will," said Estela.


    They quickly traveled onward for the next few days, skipping Cadia''s home. Father had always traveled quickly. At last, they came to Carn Ganus, sitting on the hill like usual. It is narrow with tall towers and surrounded by farmland. The farms were in much better shape than last time; there probably hadn''t been any raids. Several new buildings had been raised. But the farmers, seeing them marching, were quick to run indoors.


    And on the gates was the banner of House Vortegex, a white dragon coiled over the remains of a red. But next to it was another banner. The Silver Dragon of House Endorean is on a black background. The doors opened for them, and a woman walked out to meet them. She had silver hair and looked to have once been very beautiful. But her face was careworn and wrinkled, and she wore a sword.


    As Tyus approached, they nodded to one another. "King Tyus, you return. And with you, the bride-to-be."


    "I am Lady Estela Vortegex, yes," said Estela, guessing her to be Queen Endorean and wanting to offend. She remembered a time when these farmlands were all aflame. "And you are?"


    "Queen Margaret Endorean, I believe I will be your Mother-in-law soon," said the Queen with a smile.


    "I see," said Estela, looking for something more interesting. If Father would treat her with no courtesy, why should Estela treat her most hated enemy with it? She saw a servant with shaggy black hair and realized she recognized him. "Teran, Teran, is that you?"


    She rushed up to him, and he flinched and looked up. Finally, he bowed his head. "I am honored you remember me, Lady Estela."


    "Of course, I remember you," said Estela, unsheathing her pack. "Could you help me take my pack to my room? I''ve been carrying this all day."


    Teran shifted. "I would not presume to do so without authorization from the King, milady."


    Estela sighed. "Very well then."


    She turned to walk back to Father and didn''t bother to ask. He looked furious at her lack of cordiality. Estela looked flat back at him. So it was alright for him to sell her off without the formality of a by-your-leave, and she had to obey. But when meeting with the worst traitors in Escorian history, she had to be courteous.


    Tyus and Estela continued to look at each other. Margaret looked to Estela, who turned her gaze to Margaret and did her best to will her into disappearing. Finally, Margaret looked at Tyus.


    "King Tyus, about the matter of the dowry. It is not much of a concern. The peace resulting from the union will no doubt provide a far better one than any treasury."


    "Happily, that will no longer be an issue," said Tyus. "House Vortegex has recently come into a great deal of money. One of our knights won a tournament in Gel Carn and donated it to our treasury."


    Estela felt a cold fury go through her. Her hard-won money was to be spent propping up this farce instead of on an army. "Yes. Yes, I did."


    Tyus shifted his focus to Margaret. "Now, where is the groom-to-be?"


    Margaret shifted herself. "Unfortunately, Jomas has not arrived yet. I went on ahead of the company to ensure I was there. But somehow, his entourage has not arrived."


    "I see," said Tyus. "Well, the journey through these lands is not fully safe. We may use this chance to plan the wedding."


    "A contract," said Estela flatly, an idea coming to her.


    "What?" said Margaret.


    "A Sornian custom of marriage," said Estela. "In Sorn, all they care about is money and power. So when they do a marriage, it isn''t necessary to invoke the gods. Or even to expect the bride and groom to be faithful to each other. Even a priest is considered optional.


    "You just have to sign a contract together. Then you get all the effects of marriage without having to have any of the responsibilities." She stopped just short of suggesting it. "It''s purely economic, you see. Any vows they take aren''t considered binding. At least save insofar as they affect your reputation."


    "Yes, well," said Margaret, glancing to Tyus. "I''d like to think that we hold ourselves to a higher standard than Sorn."


    "Father, may I please explore the home of my youth?" asked Estela, sick of Margaret''s presence.


    "Is there a reason you could not have made this unnecessary diversion before we came here?" asked Tyus flatly. "You will not spend any time in this place before you leave for Fleims anyway."


    "I find myself overwhelmed by it all, Father, " said Estela. "Please, just let me walk."


    Margaret met Tyus'' gaze. "...I believe it''s a perfectly reasonable request, Tyus. She has been gone a long time. I would hate to interfere with the joy of her homecoming."


    "Thank you," said Estela flatly, wishing the woman and all her family dead and worse.


    Then she marched back to where Teran was watching with increasing concern. "Teran, can I speak with you in private?"


    "Yes," said Teran. "Of course."


    He led her away and showed her many of the old haunts. As they did, Estela enjoyed the sights and sounds. Things she had left behind long ago. Gel Carn was a far more pleasant castle, but at the same time, this was where she had been born. Here was where Mother had shown her how to hold a sword. That parapet was where Otto had taken her to look out over the return of their armies from victory.


    "What happened with Rinseld?" asked Estela at last.


    Teran paused. "Well, the truth is Estela, we don''t know."


    "What do you mean you don''t know?" asked Estela.


    "He... well, the King wanted him to become a mage in Magicora to the north," said Teran. "But reports came in that Rinseld spent most of his days playing the harp. He was taught the trade by a Dust Elf named Rusara.


    "Well, Tyus called him back to help in some of the wars after Otto died, and he... he just vanished. Disappeared from Magicora. Nobody knows where he is now, but there are rumors."


    "What rumors?" asked Estela.


    "Some say he went north to Haldren as a bard," said Teran.


    Estela nodded. "Rinseld always hated fighting. And Father never forgave him for it. What about Cadia? We... spoke earlier."


    "Well, after you left, milady, she began to change," said Teran. "At first, she was angry and bitter, but then she just stopped talking to us as equals like you and she used to. Then she started being more aloof, and just before she was married off, she was, well... truly unbearable with everyone but her handmaidens."


    "Father, did he ever speak of me?" asked Estela.


    Teran looked all the more uncomfortable. "I, well, I''m not normally in the King''s presence. But servants are largely beneath his notice. King Tyus seemed pleased when he spoke of you in his presence."


    So he was proud of her, even if he wouldn''t admit it. Estela sighed. "I wish he''d tell me that much directly."


    "Lady Estela, you traveled with the Heir of King''s, didn''t you?" asked Teran. "Do you think the prophecy is going to come true? Will Harlenor Reunited come about?"


    "Over my Father''s dead body," said Estela. "Show me the rest of the grounds."


    Today was just the worst.

 Chapter Twenty-Four: Preparations

    The message was sent in good time. Then came the waiting, and that was the worst part of it. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Relma was concerned at any time that things would go from relative peace to violence. The satyr''s good mood gave way to boredom, and men gave them uneasy glances. A few scuffles nearly broke out between them and the men at various points. At the same time, the funerals and cleanup from the battle were underway. Varsus got called into places to mediate disputes between them and the soldiers. Relma believed the fortress had not been built to house this many people. As a result, the army camp stretched out behind, and letters were being sent constantly.


    "Will we be able to feed them all?" asked Relma, reading through some documents on logistics. Her ability to read had gotten a lot better lately, but she was having trouble with this book''s scrawl.


    "I hope so," said Varsus, adjusting his gauntlet and stretching his neck. Standing up from the heavy chair, he loosened the sword out of habit. The man always seemed to be checking himself and others. "An army is difficult to keep in the field, however. I''ve been arranging shipments from Gel Carn to supplement those De Cathe arranged.


    "The satyrs, however, are restless. Or so Reginald says. Now that they''ve tasted blood, they want more."


    "Then what will we do?" asked Relma. Privately, she wondered if Varsus was as in control as he pretended to be. Or was he putting on a bold front? So far, he hadn''t led them astray, but she doubted he was as in control as he pretended.


    "For now?" asked Varsus, letting go of his sword and adjusting his cloak. "I want you to go talk to your friend, Shren. Ask him what they will do if they survive this war."


    Relma blinked and thought the question insensitive. "That''s a bit dark."


    "It''s a question we need to ask at some point," said Varsus.


    Relma supposed Varsus was right. Since Shren and his associates were a very violent and brutal collection of people. So Relma went to find Shren and found him on the wall, leaning on his falchion. He was smoking a pipe, gazing at the remnants of a pyre¡ªwhere many bodies had been burned. Some were still burning.


    "So, Shren, can I ask you something?" asked Relma.


    "Of course," said Shren.


    "If the war was won without all of your warriors being killed, what would you do?" asked Relma.


    "We would launch a mass assault on our enemies, slaughtering all who would dare halt our crusade!" said Shren, raising a fist for a mark of strength. "And if you were to stand before us, we would be forced to kill you."


    Relma decided that he answered the question very well. Actually, it was better than she''d have hoped. And judging by the cheers from the other satyrs, it was well mirrored by the other troops. "...Well, we''ll have to find a way to make sure you all die then."


    "Are you planning to murder us?" asked Shren, curious sounding.


    "No!" said Relma quickly. She wondered why he seemed to regard her as the leader. And why were satyrs so obsessed with murder and death anyway? Relma couldn''t stand doing it herself. "I, I don''t really want to kill anyone. I''d much rather everyone get out of this alive. Even the Dragon Empire."


    "That does not seem possible," said Shren, motioning to the pyre. "You''ve already helped kill a fair number of people. You helped one side win, and win we did."


    Relma sighed and looked down. It was a bit selfish, she supposed. "I know."


    "I do have an idea," said Shren, sitting down to warm his hands near the pyre. Relma kept back a pace or two from it while trying not to show she was. The smell of roasted meat was coming from it.


    "What is it?" asked Relma. Privately, she wondered if Shren had any good ideas at all. He had not struck her as much of a thinker or strategist.


    "The Road of Ancient Stone is under the dominion of the Ancestor," said Shren with a sharp smile. His eyes were glazing with darkness at the smell of blood. "It may be that the ancestor could open a path through the mountains to strike at the Dragon Empire. If so, we might take the enemy by surprise. Then we could curb their numbers in a glorious suicide charge that would bring both death and glory."


    "Well, Varsus has sent Ajax to do more scouting of the Dragon Empire. So we might be able to get a sense of their location," said Relma, remembering her journeys. "Still, why don''t you object to killing humans. The Tharakan are human, after all."


    "Not all of them," said a voice.


    Relma looked up to see De Cathe coming up to them. He had a heavy cloak on and was favoring one leg. He''d been hurt in the fight, and though the wound had healed, the pain remained. Relma had heard he''d slain many enemy warriors. Thus proving he had yet to get his reputation for nothing as usual.


    "Edward De Cathe," said Shren. "What is it you desire?"


    De Cathe said nothing and looked to the edge of his pass. Shren offered him the pipe, which he took before blowing a massive smoke ring. Then he handed it back. "When I served in the Dragon Watch, I often took my watch, looking out over the pass. The ground here is blackened from dragon fire, and what plants grow here is fed by the blood of a hundred. There has always been a war here. Sometimes, a dozen scale the wall to raid beyond in the night.


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    "Sometimes, hundreds are testing the defenses.


    "And sometimes, thousands."


    "How could there have been a war for so long?" asked Relma.


    "The war never really ends," said De Cathe. "It just changes fronts now and then. To the east, Antion and Haldren fight Calisha. But we at least understand Calisha. None have ever passed into the realm of the Dragon Empire and returned. Not since Estela''s brother, Prince Otto, led an army through. He hoped to put a permenant end to the raids."


    "To conquer the Dragon Empire?" asked Relma. "But how could he do that without understanding the language." Endless war without end? Relma supposed she had never heard of a period where there hadn''t been any fighting going on. Not in this or any world. Wasn''t there some way to stop it? Or slow it down?


    Had anyone even tried? Everyone Relma met seemed to take it for granted that war was inevitable and part of the world. It seemed an oversight to not look into other possibilities. From what she''d heard, Duke Vanion and Arengeth seemed to agree on that. But they''d been in a private war for decades. And everyone, even Argath Marn, was taking sides in it.


    It had to be stopped. And Relma had to stop it.


    "Conquest was not on his mind," said De Cathe. "His purpose was destruction. Prince Otto believed that if he depopulated the Tharakan, it would stop the raids.


    "He took many Dragon Watch with him, Prince Rinseld also went. At first, the news was good. They took and destroyed three towns and killed several dragons. Then, all communication ceased.


    "Only Rinseld returned with a small number of men. He spoke of dragons, clouds of dragons filling the air and assailing their defenses. And they came behind. It was a terrible battle made worse by rebellions breaking out all over Escor. That was even as we fought to hold the enemy back.


    "But at last, the attacks ceased."


    "I didn''t even know Estela had brothers," said Relma.


    "King Tyus'' family was very large," said De Cathe sadly. "But Otto is dead, and Rinseld has abandoned us. I was not there with them when it happened."


    "That sounds to me like an excellent war," said Shren.


    "Excellent?" asked Relma. "How can you call it that?"


    "Everyone died," said Shren. "The population was reduced, and tales shall inspire deeds of vengeance and war. The blood shall spill in rivers because of the trickle that Prince Otto unleashed."


    "Perhaps," said De Cathe. "I''ve never understood the Tharakan. They don''t try different tactics. Nor do their Dragon overlords support them as they did. They throw themselves against the walls and try to kill as many of us as possible in a frenzy.


    "It happens again and again.


    "They hate us, or so I assume. Yet they lack either the intelligence or motivation to destroy us.


    "The situation is much the same in Sorn, Sir Garrick told me when I spoke to him. The Tharakan are bold. The Tharakan are ferocious but do not seem to be trying to win. "


    "They are trying to die," said Shren.


    "What makes you say that?" asked Relma.


    "If they grew too numerous, they might one day overthrow their dragon overlords," said Shren.


    "Failing that, they would hunt the game that the dragons feast on to extinction.


    "They must be attacking us to show their loyalty to the dragons."


    "I doubt that very much," said De Cathe. "There have been times where a large force gets past the walls and has gone to raid and plunder. Not all desire death as greatly as you, Shren. Though the dragons might do it to ensure their population remains lower."


    "Look there, dragons from behind!" said a man.


    Relma turned and saw familiar black figures flying toward them. Men drew back their bows, and she ran to them. "No, no, stay the weapons.


    "They are with us."


    "Wrynncurth," said De Cathe.


    Wrynncurth descended and landed before them on the wall. His tail slashed like lightning as he perched on a crenelation above her. On came more dragons that landed around them. He loped over to where Relma was, crossing hundreds of feet in an instant. As he did, he slithered between several men. "Well, this seems a merry enough army. I''ve had to relocate our hoards temporarily to get this far. But things have all worked out splendidly.


    "So, do tell Relma old girl. What''s all this about negotiating with my cousins?"


    "That''s just it," said Relma, pleased to see Wrynncurth present. "The Dragon Empire has been attacking Escor for a very long time. And I''d like to figure out why and how to stop it." It all sounded awkward and weak, but that might help her more than hinder her. Relma got as far as she had so far by being underestimated.


    "Well, that does sound like an interesting question," mused Wrynncurth. "We haven''t had any contact with old Vanessa in a long while. I gather you boys aren''t able to get through." He paused. "I say, is that a pipe. Care to join me for a smoke?"


    "The Ancestor permits it," said Shren.


    Wrynncurth moved on by, drew out his pipe from his scales, and lit it before sitting next to Shren on the walls. He lit it with a spell and puffed smoke while looking very thoughtful. Relma moved forward. "Wrynncurth, who is Vanessa? I heard Aren speak of her, but he didn''t say more."


    Wrynncurth looked up from his pipe. "Vrengar''s eldest daughter. Always the brains between her and Bryag, I gather. Though Bryag never was a chap to lose easily in anything.


    "So she isn''t talking to you?"


    "No," said De Cathe. "She doesn''t seem to want to communicate at all. Even servants of the gods cannot understand her servant''s speech."


    "Well, that is troublesome," said Wrynncurth. "Did she do that plan of hers? Well, I imagine there is only one way to find out."


    "And what is that?" asked De Cathe.


    Wrynncurth blew on his pipe and sent three smoke rings into the pass. As they went out, they shifted into an army and a castle. The castle was laid to waste by a great gust of wind that blew it outwards toward the distance. "Go and see her, of course. I remember I met her when I was only a hatchling. Getting all this sorted out should be fine if we meet with her.


    "Still, we''ll have to decide who will meet with her. And that, old girl, will be a bit of a poser."


    "Then we should call a council to decide the matter and who will go," said Relma. Councils and meetings, what good would any of this do? Relma wanted to make all the decisions herself, but she had to pretend to include other people first.


    How would her Father Hadleim, have handled this? From what she''d heard of him, he wouldn''t have. He''d have gotten maneuvered around by everyone and fought his way out of any situation he wasn''t useful in. Hadleim probably never would have made it out of the cave of Eitrigg, and he''d have killed Ajax.


    So Relma thought she was doing better than her Father already. Which was good; it was a bare minimum to do that. She last wanted to end up back on a farm somewhere, forgotten.


    "A council that King Tyus ought to be at to choose a representative," said Aunt Pan, appearing suddenly.


    "Aunt Pan? Where have you been?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan looked bad. She had a red mark above her bow. The left side of her hair looked to have been cut with a knife. There were bags under her eyes. "Busy. Very busy. It has been many years since I was last in Escor, and I had to look up my old contacts among the spirits. It has been... unpleasant.


    "Relma, you realize that you have made something of a display of yourself?"


    "Oh. So I have," said Relma. "So about that council?"


    Aunt Pan sighed. As usual, she could be trusted to oppose Relma''s ambitions. But that was useful for making those ambitions more effective anyway. It was something Relma loved her for.

 Chapter Twenty-Five: The Quest is Set

    Days later, news came to Estela about her fiancee.


    She''d enjoyed her time spent walking the gardens of her youth with Teran. While it wasn''t the same without Otto and Rinseld, it was still home. Father, for his part, hardly said two words to her. He spent his days, as always, holed up in his study while writing letters. Several times


    Estela sat in on him, mediating disputes between the commoners.


    He was decisive but not unfair. Often, he would come in on the side of a poorer man, even when the richer one stood to gain. But it was always done based on the case. Estela remembered something he''d once told Otto.


    "Reputation is everything," he''d said, not seeing Estela. "Money is worthless if your reputation is in ruins. Ruling with justice is essential to maintain respect from our people." S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He''d always said things like that to Otto, his heir. Rinseld, Cadia, and her had always been on the outskirts. Now, here she was, sitting on the outskirts again, even if she was within King Tyus'' meeting room.


    Then Father entered, flanked by his men. His expression was grim, as always. "We''ve found him. "


    "Well, where is he? "asked Estela. "And why the delay? "


    "He''s at the pass of Dragon Bones," said Father. "It seems he veered off to fight with the Heir of Kings."


    So Estela hadn''t met her fianc¨¦e because Father had dragged her here, then? Ironic and a bit satisfying. "Then we''ll go to meet him. "


    "You will not go, "said Tyus quickly. "Word has come to me that the Black Dragons under Wrynncurth have landed. "


    "Wrynncurth? "asked Estela. "I know him. "


    Tyus raised an eyebrow. "You do? "


    "Yes, I might help in negotiations. "said Estela.


    Tyus nodded. "...Very well, then. Pack your things. We''re leaving today. "


    And leave they did. The Queen of House Endorean went with them, her white armored soldiers marching. Together, they made their way through the lands at a swift pace. They rested on the road and only briefly. Estela saw several new castles where there had been none before.


    "When were these built?" she asked Father.


    "The Foundation was there of old, "said Father. "But they were cast down during the civil war before you were born. Arengeth had us restore lands we had taken to the other house."


    "So this has been planned for some time," said Estela.


    "Yes," said the Queen. "We wish a permanent end to the war, so Escor may be united."


    Estela said nothing. They spoke little as they came into empty lands and neared the domain of the Pass of Dragon Bones. Then Estela saw the fort she''d heard so many stories above, surrounded by blackened lands. No grass grew around it, and the earth was packed tight. Weapons meant for killing dragons bristled along the walls.


    And they were met there by a man, a giant with a huge war hammer on his back. He was sitting upon a stump just beyond the barrens, carving a wood block. He looked up with dull eyes and put it down. Rising, he retrieved his war hammer and leaned on it.


    "King Tyus. Mother, "said the man.


    The Queen, what was her name again, dismounted and moved to him. "Jomas, what are you doing here? You were supposed to come to Vortegex''s Capital."


    "I saw smoke and heard battle, "said Jomas. "I came to help. "


    The Queen looked to Tyus. "I''m sorry, Tyus; please forgive my son. He has a tendency to get sidetracked. Where is your valet? "


    Jomas looked down. "Edgar took an axe to the face in the fighting. I tried to heal him, but it was too late. "


    The Queen looked concerned. "Another one? What have I told you of wandering away from safety? It would help if you stayed with your groups. "


    "I''m sorry," said Jomas.


    This simpleton was her fiancee? Estela was insulted.


    "This is Estela Vortegex, your bride-to-be," said the Queen.


    "...Hello, I am Jomas., "said the man.


    Estela smiled. "Greetings. "


    Fortunately, she was saved from having to talk to him when Arengeth arrived. He emerged from around the shadow of a hill. "Ah, there you are, Tyus."


    Tyus eyed him in irritation but moved forward to shake his hand as an equal. "Gail Arengeth, I trust things are in hand."


    "They almost got out of hand for a time, but we caught the matter," said Arengeth. "The Tharakans were driven off, but we have news they have larger armies gathering. Queen Margaret, you should be proud of your son.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    "Jomas Endorean was invaluable during the battle. He killed dozens of Tharakans and held part of the wall alone."


    Margaret looked to Jomas. "Well done. You''ve made me proud."


    Jomas'' expression did not change.


    "And what of this council you wanted us to attend?" asked Tyus, an edge in his tone.


    "I''m afraid it was a somewhat coincidental meeting," said Arengeth. "Relma asked Wrynncurth for support in defending against the Dragon Empire.


    "The girl tends to act without thinking."


    Arengeth was using her as an excuse, wasn''t he? Estela didn''t buy that Arengeth couldn''t control Relma. But did Father know as much? He did not seem skeptical, but perhaps she should tell him. Couldn''t that hurt Relma, though?


    "Where is the council meeting?" asked Tyus.


    "I will show you," said Arengeth before motioning for them to follow.


    "Father," said Estela, "I don''t think Arengeth lost his grip on Relma."


    "Obviously not, fool," snapped Tyus. "Now, don''t speak so loudly."


    Estela fell silent until, eventually, they reached the top of a hill. There, a circle of stones was lying, looking to have only recently been dug up. In that circle were Fayn, Wrynncurth, Pandora, and many others. Reginald and Varsus could be seen speaking some distance away. And all around them were black dragons, perched here and there.


    "I''ve never seen this many Black Dragons, "said Estela.


    "Of course you haven''t," said Arengeth. "They''ve come from all over to secure this region and plan diplomacy. "


    "Diplomacy? With whom? "asked Margaret.


    "The Dragon Empire, of course, "said Arengeth. "We''re hoping to arrange a truce. "


    "And by what authority will you make it? "asked Tyus.


    "That''s why we''re all here, "said Arengeth.


    Wrynncurth surged into view suddenly, and Father flinched. "Ah, King Tyus, jolly good to see you. "


    "Wrynncurth. I don''t appreciate you entering my domain without permission, "said Tyus, voice hard.


    "Sorry for not sending word ahead, old chap," said Wrynncurth. "Unfortunately, I heard about a crisis in the Dusk Lands. When Relma asked for some help, I assumed she had consulted you. "


    "Sorry, "said Relma, coming up from behind.


    Father looked at her, and a sneer went across his face. Then, he mastered himself and strode past Relma without a word. Beyond was Lady Pandora, meditating. "Lady Pandora, I trust you can explain this?"


    Pandora opened her eyes. "King Tyus, I would apologize for all this. Things have been in absolute chaos with the rise of Lucius in Del Gabor. Certain decisions had to be made quickly, and Relma tended to act without thinking. "


    "I thought about it," said Relma flatly.


    What was she doing? Why was she provoking Father? Did she want to die?


    To Estela''s surprise, however, Father did not flare up. "So long as Escor is secure and no harm is done, I am willing to tolerate this matter. "


    Why yield ground here?


    Because Relma had power, genuine power, even if Father thought it was Arengeth. Relma had gathered a vast army through polite suggestions. The only thing all these factions had in common was her. And now the King of Escor could do nothing but keep a polite face.


    For the first time, Estela became afraid she might create Harlenor Reunited.


    "Explain. Now," said Father.


    "First, we have arranged agents within the Dragon Empire at last," said Arengeth. "An associate of ours can speak with wolves. He has been establishing information gathering within. It should go a long way to predicting future attacks."


    "Wolves?" asked Father. "You have brought the Brood of Telix into this?"


    "Relma has, "said Estela. "She has friends among them. "


    "I realize you have a longstanding feud with them," said Arengeth, "however, I ask you to look past it."


    "Until they prey on the cattle of my herdsmen again, then? "asked Father.


    "If that occurs, then yes, "said Arengeth. "For now, we must focus on the problem of the Dragon Empire. The reckoning with Calisha is nigh. Even now, Baltoth''s armies are seeking to expand and grow stronger. I believe his armies will march within the year.


    "As such, we must take steps to ensure that Harlenor does not face a war on two fronts. "


    "You''d make peace with the Dragon Empire? "asked Father.


    "At the very least, I would like to come to an understanding with them," said Arengeth. "I knew Vanessa and Bryag when they were children. Unfortunately, I have not been within Dragon Empire for over a thousand years. Things have changed greatly, and anyone attempting to enter it has been hunted down.


    "It is obvious that they have no desire to negotiate with Harlenor. "


    "Then what are you proposing?" asked Father. "Invasions are out of the question. "


    "That is where I come in, old chap," said Wrynncurth. "We blacks always had a good relationship with the reds before the borders were sealed. I expect she may let me close enough to chat with her. With representatives of Harlenor alongside me, we might come to an understanding. "


    "But we know almost nothing of the territory, "noted Margaret.


    "And that is where the wolves come in. "said Pandora. "They have traversed the entire land, and we may learn everything.


    "Naturally, I will go-"


    "With all due respect, Lady Pandora, you do not speak for Harlenor as a whole," said Father. "Nor does Arengeth. The one we send must be one whose very nature allows them to speak for all of Harlenor.


    "The Heir of Kings would be willing to do so. "


    "Yes, send the Heir of Kings! "said one of the officers.


    "I''ll do it if people want me to, "said Relma.


    Relma was being set up to die. Father wanted her to be killed on this mission. "Relma is not ready for such a task, "said Pandora.


    "Is she not? "asked King Tyus. "Did she not rally an army? Has she not commanded battles against the satyrs, or so I am told? Does she not possess Lightning Trail? Do you believe these things are done by blind luck?


    "Indeed, I believe she should go alone with Wrynncurth. Or perhaps with one companion to help her on the journey. Perhaps the wolf boy when he returns. "


    "I''ll go, "said Jomas.


    "What? "said King Tyus.


    "She might need help. I''ll go, "said Jomas.


    "Out of the question, "said Margaret.


    "Jomas, I believe you should sit down," said Margaret. "You don''t really know what you are thinking."


    "She''ll need help, "said Jomas. Here was an opportunity.


    "This is not-" began Father.


    "You truly are bold, Prince Endorean," said Estela, seeing a chance to be rid of her fiancee honorably. "You must go to represent the honor of your family. Do this on my behalf as a quest. "


    "Estela-" began Father.


    "Father, I am to be married to him, " said Estela. "Is it wrong of me to wish him to embark on a great quest for the good of all Escor? "


    "...No, no, it is not, "said Father, gritting his teeth.


    Wrynncurth laughed. "Well, this has become a jolly spectacular display of venom unlike any I can produce. I don''t imagine there is now a single one of you who wants the quest to succeed. Or at least I don''t hope one member or another doesn''t come back from it.


    "I''ll play the game right enough. I say I won''t carry anyone on this quest unless Princess Vortegex accompanies me. That way, there won''t be anyone praying for our destruction behind closed doors. "


    "...Perhaps we should send people who are less vital to our future-" began Arengeth.


    "No, no, old chap," said Wrynncurth. "You three don''t get to scheme and plan each other''s deaths and then walk on out. You roped each other into the mess, and you can sort it out as planned. Or I''ll take my flight and return home in a flash. "


    Silence reigned as the people in this place looked to one another. Murmurs came among them, but Estela knew Father had no choice. "...Well, it is decided then. "


    Estela did not expect peace to come from any of this. Whether Relma succeeded or not, they were going to have a war. Estela would see to it personally.

 Book Nine: The Rival of Gods

    Well, this has been an eventful book. Relma''s plans really seem to be getting off the ground at last. Meanwhile, the risks are increasing, and everyone has volunteered themselves. Now, she is about to head into the Dragon Empire.


    And that means we''re about to head far east back to Abdul Sahshir, now King of Kalthak. We''ll have a chance to get reacquainted with some old friends and hopefully meet new ones.


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    The next installment will feature a grand quest of its own. One to be undertaken by Sahshir and others like him. Which might not be a good thing. Sahshir may be a hero, but he has differing interests from Relma and William. We may finally see the conflict between east and west we''ve been waiting for get hashed out.


    Stay tuned for the next installment; Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Rival of Gods.

 Prologue: Isamu Arrives

    King Belosh had reigned for decades over a reign of comparative peace. There had been battles upon the Sea of Power and a few raids and skirmishes. Many of his sons had marched to fight in Calisha''s wars abroad. Yet Western Kalthak, in his reign, had been peaceful and productive. He had stockpiled goods during good harvests. In doing so, no one went hungry when famine struck the land.


    Unfortunately, the era of peace might be coming to an end.


    One of his principal warriors walked into the throne room now. He came through the door, his orange hair a mess as always. His ram horns stood out nearly as much as his size, which towered over the guards. On his back was a massive cleaver of a sword, and his garb was in fur.


    Evidently, no one had taken his sword, as usual. Isamu had a way of bypassing such restrictions.


    "Isamu, I''m glad to see you here at last," said Belosh.


    "Well, I got a bit held up, but plans can change," said Isamu. "What''s the story?"


    "Isamu, show some respect!" said Agas, white-bearded and ancient. One who was still dedicated to some level of decency. "You are in the presence of King Belosh of Western Kalthak, and you will kneel!"


    "Break my arm if you want, old man," scoffed Isamu. "I kneel to no one."


    "Enough, we''ve had this discussion far too many times, and it will never happen, Agas," said Belosh. "Isamu is valuable enough to tolerate his quirks. Or I would not have requested his presence."


    "So, what''s the story?" repeated Isamu.


    "A meeting," said Belosh, remembering the letter. "King Abdul Sahshir I of Eastern Kalthak has invited me to visit him." And it was not an invitation he wanted to accept, though he had no intention of saying as much. "Though I wonder why he never requested my aid before now. Certainly, I might have made his ascension a far simpler matter."


    "So, go do it or don''t; why do you need to call me for this?" asked Isamu flatly.


    "Don''t pretend to be ignorant, Isamu," said Belosh. "There has been bad blood between our nations. Blood that had persisted since Eastern Kalthak came into existence."


    Isamu paused. "...When did this happen? I know Asim''s a bastard, but I thought he was just some bandit."


    Asim... a common bandit...


    Belosh had a headache trying to understand how Isamu could be so ignorant. Asim had carried out his raids in a specific bid to discredit Belosh. And worse still, it had almost worked. Before Asim attacked, there had been a discussion of giving Eastern Kalthak back. He was owed it by right.


    Afterward, with both sides gearing up for a full-scale war, Baltoth interceded. He had decided to leave them separate. Officially because Eastern Kalthak did not want to rejoin. But it had been because Calisha lost confidence in Belosh. He''d had to scramble for years to regain Baltoth''s confidence. His sons had done well there, better than Belosh had managed.


    Not that Isamu would understand this, even if it were explained to him. So, perhaps a more mythical explanation? "Agas, explain, will you."


    The older man nodded and stood slowly so as not to disturb his joints. "In ages past, the Goddess Safara was expanding her influence worldwide. Her very presence could enslave men and women alike. The merest glimpse caused them to fall desperately in love with her. Using this, she quickly subdued what is now Dinis and Chaminus.


    "Perceiving the threat faced by her, Kalthak attempted to invade her. However, Safara used her charms to convince much of the army to join her. With them under her spell, she began to take over the entire land of Kalthak. Only the great desert between what is now Eastern and Western Kalthak slowed her.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "For a century, a large part of the land was under her grip."


    "Right, right, now I remember," said Isamu. "My old man stopped her from taking over this place with his magic, and they stalemated."


    "If we must bring up Rammas, then yes," said Belosh. "My ancestors did work with him. Eventually, High King Suloth and his brother, Baelgost, journeyed into Eastern Kalthak. There, they defeated Safara, chained her, and dragged her back to Ruscow, where she remains."


    "I hear they''ve been putting up all kinds of cults to her in the Sea of Power," said Isamu. "Some imprisonment." S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Wait, so Isamu knew that but not the basic history of the world he lived in? That was a very specific level of ignorance. "We can discuss that another time," said Belosh. "The point, Isamu, is that Eastern Kalthak was not rejoined to us as it ought to have been. Rammas'' rebellion had seen to that, and instead, it was given to the Sahshir family, a group of petty bandits. And it has remained a borderland for years."


    "Some petty bandit," said Isamu. "Last I heard, he wrecked Sorn without your help."


    "We had indeed expected him to fail," said Belosh. "We hoped he would be forced to turn to us for support. Unworthy, he proved to be far more adept at leading than expected."


    "Isn''t that a good thing?" asked Isamu. "Aren''t Sorn enemies of Calisha?"


    "Yes," said Belosh.


    "And isn''t Eastern Kalthak part of Calisha?" asked Isamu with an insufferable level of smugness. "So shouldn''t we rejoice for Lord Baltoth''s victory?"


    "We are owed Eastern Kalthak by legal right," said Belosh flatly. "When he abdicated the throne and took up life as Baltoth''s Disciple, Aresh ceded all his territory to me. He aimed to reunite Eastern and Western Kalthak and end this pointless divide.


    "But when we tried to stand for our rights, Asim started burning our villages in retribution. We both came to the brink of full-scale war. And so, I am denied my lawful rights, and Eastern Kalthak remains in the hands of barbarians.


    "I rejoice for Baltoth''s victory, of course. As for Abdul Sahshir''s victory, that is yet to be decided.


    "That is why I''ve decided to accept his invitation. I want to take the measure of the man and see how I ought to respond to him. Which is why I want you there."


    Isamu stared at him incredulously. "You want me present at negotiations?"


    "As a bodyguard, you and your entourage are quite formidable," said Belosh. "Your presence should be more than sufficient to head them off.


    "And it would be a great honor-"


    "Not interested," said Isamu.


    "What?!" said Agas, somehow surprised.


    "I don''t care about honors, and sitting still and silent at banquets has never been my style," said Isamu. "I''d much rather keep fighting bandits.


    "That''s why you hired me, remember? And I''m sure as hell not acting all polite with Asim."


    "King Sahshir is a very good fighter," said Belosh simply.


    Isamu paused, that being his weakness. "...How good?"


    "They say he injured the God Typhos and forced her to retreat," said Belosh. "He dueled Garacel in single combat twice. The first time he won.


    "And he defeated Sorn through sheer force of will."


    "So what you''re saying is that if I go with you to this place, I can fight this guy?" mused Isamu.


    "I''m certain I can arrange a spar between you," said Belosh.


    "Alright!" said Isamu, forgetting as usual where he stood. "Finally, someone worth fighting! I mean, Cadas and Urus are okay, but they stopped being able to catch up with me years ago!


    "I''ll go tell the others right away!" And he walked for the door.


    "You were not given permission-" began Agas.


    "Don''t bother," said Belosh. "He is a demigod. It isn''t worth the effort."


    The door shut, and the guards sighed. Agas cleared his throat. "Milord, Isamu is entirely unsuitable for this. Eastern Kalthak does not hold Rammas in high regard, as some of our people do.


    "We should bring Ashinin."


    "Ashinin is too far away," said Belosh. "And he serves us best in Khasmir anyway. He won us great glory during the battles against the raishans.


    "Besides, when Isamu crushes their King, it will help with negotiations. And I can put up my hands and claim no one can control him."


    "And what if Sahshir is victorious?" asked Agas.


    "Then Isamu may learn some humility," said Belosh.


    "He is liable to offend the King if things get out of hand," noted Agas. "And one may kill the other. Not all are as tolerant."


    "Isamu is a demigod, and therefore we cannot punish him," said Belosh. "And he is not the kind to kill another man in a spar. If he does step out of line, we can hand him over to High King Suloth. He has become less valuable as the bandits in this region have been wiped out anyway.


    "Besides, Tuor requested his presence. He wants him for that venture he''s been planning. He''s wanted to do it ever since the Grail of Immortality was retrieved."


    "Are you sure Eastern Kalthak will cooperate?" asked Agas. "Baltoth is apparently very impressed with King Sahshir. Tales of his exploits have spread."


    "King Sahshir has one foot in the grave," said Belosh. "he''s been dying of the same plague for years with no heir apparent. And Tuor''s connection to him is strong.


    "No mere boy will be able to stop what I have planned."

 Chapter One: A Meeting of Kings

    Narcissa made her way through the palace halls, glad to be out of her armor. The black shell that she wore into battle protected her. But she preferred the black leather outfit Zigildrazia would have her wear. Having her legs, arms, and stomach covered was something she''d gotten used to, but she didn''t enjoy it. And she didn''t look nearly as good without cleavage.


    Looking good was necessary, even if Sahshir didn''t fully understand why. It wasn''t that he was repressed, just... different. Sahshir didn''t treat life like Narcissa did; she''d learned to accept it.


    At last, she came to the library.


    It had only recently been founded, with books from elsewhere to fill it. Many ancient tales and stories were being compiled across the land and brought in. Sahshir had decided that he wanted the culture and wisdom of East Kalthak recorded. You had a ceiling carefully designed to keep out the rain. There were three different book shelves imported from Dinis. A gift from King Nagos of Chaminus, alongside some of the books. Others had been taken as plunder.


    Within, she found the masked king sitting at a table. The librarians had been dismissed, and he was reading a scroll. His eyes were scanning over the writing. They stood out all the more, given the plagued flesh around them.


    "What are you doing, Sahshir?" asked Narcissa, brushing a strand of her blonde hair from her face. She wished Sahshir would notice more than who she was as a person. Not being judged for your body was a weird experience even now. "You''ve been locked in here for three hours."


    "Reading," said Sahshir.


    Narcissa sat down, surprised he had no harsh statement on virtue. "Reading what?"


    Sahshir set the paper down. "It''s a list I had Alkela draw up, though I''m uncertain why. A list of Princesses of marriageable age?"


    "What do you need that for?" asked Narcissa before she could stop herself.


    Sahshir set down the paper and shifted the Sword of Order in his iron hand. The blade gleamed, and the light reflected off his hand. "...My valor in Zigilus proved my worth as a warrior. And my triumph in wars against Sorn has proven me an able leader. My focus has been wholly on ensuring the proper operation of this Kingdom. I believe I have succeeded.


    "Tensions are low, empty lands are being filled, and the people are in good spirits.


    "In such a time of peace, aside from maintaining it, I must ensure the succession. So I requested your sister look into the matter for me since the people of Zigilus keep such good records."


    "Um, Sahshir-" began Narcissa. No one would ever want to marry him with his disease and-


    "I know," said Sahshir.


    "Ah, right," said Narcissa.


    "I don''t know why I did it," mused Sahshir. "I have been so focused on performing all that I must have forgotten myself. I had forgotten the disease that was killing me.


    "And so I fail."


    "...It might be possible to find a cure, Sahshir," said Narcissa, trying to bring in some hope.


    "How?" asked Sahshir. "Laevian put this curse on me, and the God of Healing is her ally. Elranor is the archenemy of my people."


    "So what are you going to do?" asked Narcissa.


    "I can''t do anything," said Sahshir. "My uncle, Asim, will inherit the throne after me. Then he''ll immediately roll back everything I''ve done. There will be a civil war, and eventually, Sushaki will pick up the pieces. Or, Western Kalthak will intercede and be granted the rule of this land.


    "They always have had closer ties to Ruscow, and if this land falls into chaos, order must be restored."


    "I''m surprised you aren''t talking to Kushina about this," noted Narcissa.


    "She and the priests of Baltoth are preaching his will, as you no doubt know," said Sahshir. "It takes a great deal of her time." Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And then the door opened, and Alkela entered. Narcissa''s twin looked good in her new outfit of red leather, though it didn''t show enough skin for her liking. She wore her mace at one side, and her hair was long, contrasting with Narcissa''s ponytail.


    "Alkela, what is it?" asked Sahshir.


    Alkela raised a hand and made the sign language Nayasha had been teaching her. Sahshir scanned it before he looked at Narcissa. "...They''re here."


    "The delegation from Eastern Kalthak?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes," said Sahshir. "You will stand at my left side, Asim at my right."


    And he stood as if to walk out. Narcissa felt a sensation of panic. Sahshir never looked good, so much as threatening. But he needed to make some preparations for this. "Sahshir, what about your silver hand?"


    Sahshir halted and looked up. "Is it necessary?"


    "It''s part of your appearance, and your appearance is what you show the world," said Narcissa. "You have to demonstrate yourself as grand. It would help if you also got your armor on. You''ll never look benevolent and wise, but you can look terrifying."


    "I show myself through actions," said Sahshir.


    "Humor me, please," said Narcissa.


    "Very well, help me with it," said Sahshir. "Quickly, however, we must be ready to receive them."


    And so Sahshir began to don his armor and silver hand. The armor was worn by Samurai, black colored with a mask resembling a tiger. As he fitted on a silver hand in place of the iron one, Narcissa eyed him in concern. "So, King Belosh, do you respect him?"


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    "He is a powerful King and could be a formidable enemy," said Sahshir.


    "But do you respect him?" asked Narcissa.


    "Not at the moment," said Sahshir. "Just before my father abandoned me, he attempted to cede my land to King Belosh. Naturally, Asim was not about to let our homeland become vassals of those conceited fools.


    "There was a war, and Baltoth declared me the rightful king, thus why Asim tried to kill me. Belosh, in contrast, offered to remove Asim to shore up my rule. So, I refused and went to kill Tuor instead.


    "Even so, I am willing to consider him worthy of respect after I meet him. Whatever the event, I mean to remain courteous.


    "We must first watch from the balcony. Preparations have already been made for their procession."


    The balcony was at the front of the palace and overlooked the entire city of Khasina. Asim was already there, clad in black armor with a sword read. Khasina now fully deserved the city title, having grown a great deal in the past few years. New buildings had been erected with excellent structural integrity. The main road was now paved, and statues had been erected of Baltoth and his children.


    And now, the gate opened.


    In through the gates came a vast number of samurai. They marched forward with enormous numbers of spears held together with great discipline. Crowds lined the streets and observed them. With them came many dancing girls in scanty clothing and flowing garb. They were dancing and swaying. Behind them were elephants decorated with the most magnificent of harnesses. There were jewels and gold upon them.


    And upon them was King Belosh, alongside his family. Gold and jewels were tossed to the crowd freely as cheers resounded. And around the elephants were entertainers of all kinds. They were juggling flaming sticks, devouring swords, and creating brilliant lights.


    Narcissa had never seen anything so grand.


    And yet she also felt a sense of resentment. Sahshir and her hadn''t had nearly so grand a reception when they returned from war. Then again, Sahshir had never organized a parade of any kind. He''d walked back into the city without so much as a single trumpet sounded and returned to work.


    He really was no fun, actually. Most of his lords had wanted to hold celebrations. But Sahshir only had a celebration if it was religiously obligated. And when he had one, he used the bare minimum amount of resources. The rest went to help people experiencing poverty or building improvements.


    "Look at that parade!" said Narcissa to make conversation. "Have you ever seen so much silk?"


    "Have you ever seen so many harlots?" said Sahshir, clad in his usual black armor.


    "They''re not harlots, Sahshir," said Narcissa, faintly offended. "They''re entertainers."


    "Believe what you will," scoffed Sahshir.


    By now, Belosh''s non-samurai troops were marching behind him. They marched a token force, with spears held aloft and in perfect unison. Aresif came up from behind in the entourage, and Sahshir looked at him. The old man looked far healthier than when they''d liberated him from slavery. His white beard was cut short to a mustache. "They go clad in fine silk with gleaming blades, but any may do as much. The question is their own nature, as well as ours."


    "Aresif, you will keep such comments to yourself," said Sahshir. "Uncle, await me in the throne room. I am relying on you should there be any treachery."


    "As you wish, nephew," said Asim, turning to leave. Aresif took his place.


    Sahshir had been planning something for the throne room for nearly a week. All materials had been going in and out and setting up braziers. Much work had gone into figuring out the exact locations of the windows and how the light entered.


    Whatever it was, Narcissa doubted it wouldn''t be outshone by this parade. Looking back, she noticed something odd. Four people walked out of the formation at the rear of the group. The first was an orange-haired man of great size with ram horns. On his back was a huge sword. Directly behind him was a monk, clad in white robes with a long staff, crooked on end. Then there was an even bigger man with curly brown hair, walking bare-chested. He wore two spiked gauntlets.


    And last of all was a majestically beautiful girl, her long, auburn hair flowing around her. She looked Harlenorian, and she wore very little. She wore a brassiere over her ample bosom and a split skirt that bared her thighs. Around her waist was a golden belt, and Narcissa was impressed. You didn''t usually see someone as beautiful as someone from Zigilus. Not without Zigildrazia''s blessing.


    "Who are they?" asked Sahshir.


    "His name is Isamu, King Sahshir," said Aresif. "Apparently, a samurai of well-documented pride and power. He was born of Rammas before his rebellion."


    "So he is the spawn of a traitor, then. Well, we shall see if he takes after him," said Sahshir. "Why would King Belosh have him in his company?"


    "Isamu is said to be an unsurpassed warrior," said Aresif. "None may stand against him to live. To pierce, his heart is but to know his wrath. He has a group of warrior companions who are powerful indeed, among them a daughter of Belosh."


    "We will judge the matter as we see fit," said Sahshir. Then he raised his hand. "Nayasha report."


    Nayasha was here? Narcissa looked back and saw the violet-haired elf emerging from the shadows. A blade was by her side. "...I am impressed, Sahshir. I had not revealed myself to you."


    "Report," said Sahshir.


    "Tuor was with them when they arrived," said Nayasha. "However, he broke off from the main column on his usual business. My Master loathes celebrations; he believes they are a waste of resources."


    "Nothing that inspires joy is a waste," said Sahshir.


    "...That is an unusually poetic flourish, my King," said Sahshir.


    "No, merely the truth," said Sahshir.


    "That seems hypocritical," said Narcissa. "You''ve canceled most celebrations."


    "Joy comes only from pursuing a virtuous life," said Sahshir. "And so all things that inspire it come from virtue. The wicked seek it but find only hedonistic mockeries that consume them. Also, they could have been a better use of money.


    "Let us head to the throne room. Kushina has broken off from the lead now anyway."


    Oh, right, Kushina was down there; Narcissa had hardly noticed the dark-haired priestess. As Sahshir marched through the halls, Narcissa considered what to say. She looked to Alkela, who seemed to guess her mind. "They seem to have shown us up, don''t you think?" asked Narcissa.


    "What do you mean?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, their party mounted a truly impressive display," said Narcissa. "Those were an elephant. It will be the talk of the city for years to come."


    "And of what relevance is that?" asked Sahshir. "They have made an impressive display. They shall be known only as pretenders if their virtues cannot match it. If they can, then it is no business of mine to envy them."


    Entering the throne room, Narcissa noticed the lights were gone. Only the windows provided any light. The throne was on a raised platform with stairs leading up to it. On either side were braziers of coals with oil poured over it.


    Sahshir seated upon the throne as Narcissa walked beside him. Asim took the other side. "You are all to hold your tongue; I expect I will soon be insulted."


    "What do you mean?" asked Narcissa.


    "Tradition dictates that when Kings of Kalthak meet, a marriage bond is made," said Sahshir. "I have no children or sisters, and moreover, I am unmarried. As such, King Belosh ought to be offering me a wife."


    "Do you think he will?" asked Narcissa.


    "I doubt it," said Sahshir. "He''s far more likely to want to marry his daughter into Asim''s line. Which is why Sushaki has been sent to the opposite side of the country.


    "Is all prepared, Asim?"


    "Yes," said Asim. "The braziers have been made as requested."


    "Good, stand by to light them when I signal," said Sahshir.


    Then the windows shut, and they were left in darkness. Narcissa could hear footfalls shuffling into place. Sahshir''s Silent Guard was preparing in the darkness. "Are we meeting them in the dark?" asked Narcissa.


    "No, merely an alternative variety of light," said Sahshir. "Quiet now; they are entering."


    Before Narcissa could ask about that, the double doors opened. Into the room came King Belosh, alongside his guards. The King of Western Kalthak was a tall, dignified man whose hair was tied up in a topknot. His beard was long and black, and he wore flowing robes. Alongside him were many men, including Isamu and his people.


    "What''s with the dark?" asked Isamu. "Did someone put out the torches?"


    "Stand ready, Isamu; this may be a trap," said the monk, not quite low enough. "Stay behind me, Oresa."


    The auburn-haired girl stepped behind the monk. "Isamu..."


    "What is the meaning of this?" asked King Belosh aloud.


    Sahshir slammed the Sword of Order against the floor. Even through the sheath, it made a loud sound. As he did, the braziers flared to life and illuminated Sahshir. As this happened, the doors shut, and the King of Eastern Kalthak rose up. The Silent Guard of King Sahshir was all around them. They stood with terrible discipline, and Belosh''s men went for their weapons.


    What was Sahshir going to do if violence broke out?


    "King Belosh, I bid you welcome to my home," said Sahshir. Then, he arose from the throne and stood before King Belosh.


    "King Sahshir, I assume," said Belosh. "You have an odd way of showing hospitality."


    "Mere theatricality, I assure you," said Sahshir. "One must use such tactics, sometimes, if our people are to be seen as equals." Then he motioned, and the windows were opened, and the light returned.


    "...How did you do that anyway?" asked Isamu. "With the braziers?"


    "He might deal with flame spirits," said the huge, dark-skinned man.


    "But, Cadus, I don''t sense any spirits around us," said Oresa, "there should have been a presence here. There was... nothing."


    "Knowledge is power, and I have learned much," said Sahshir. "Still, perhaps we should retire to a more hospitable environment?"


    "That seems wise to me," said Belosh.


    "Your daughter is, of course, welcome to accompany us," said Sahshir. From there, he looked to Oresa.


    "The invitation is much appreciated," said Belosh. "However, Oresa has rarely had much interest in policy and is technically one of my guards."


    "I understand," said Sahshir, controlling the edge of his town. "Then let us speak in the gardens."


    "How do we know this isn''t some kind of trap?" asked Isamu.


    Sahshir looked to Isamu, insulted. "...If I had intended to trap you, surely I would have done so a moment ago? Asim, draw back your guards; we must ensure our guests are comfortable."


    This was going to be one tense negotiation.

 Chapter Two: Tensions

    Princess Oresa felt out of place here.


    She hadn''t been sure what to expect when they''d entered the throne room. But when the Silent Guard was unveiled, she thought there''d been an ambush. Isamu, Urus, and Cadas had been about to begin fighting, and so were Father''s guards.


    Oresa wasn''t sure if she''d have been of any value at all there. She''d been ready to create a shield or heal, but she knew she wouldn''t be of any help. She''d realized that after that fight with the bandits when she froze up. Ultimately, Oresa was just glad she hadn''t been called up.


    Now, she and her friends were sitting in a courtyard, drinking pure water with ice. There were fruits here from the islands of power that would have been expensive. Father was proud that he could purchase such delicacies. This was a statement of wealth for a less prosperous country like Eastern Kalthak.


    Sahshir must have been a pretty good king.


    The Silent Guard remained silent as their duty demanded and watched. Oresa had once heard a story of the Silent Guard under Aresh conquering an entire samurai castle. Not one of them had died in battle, and they had only had a rope and their weapons: no siege equipment or anything.


    Isamu, meanwhile, was pacing. He''d wanted to fight King Sahshir, but Oresa was still determining if that was a good idea. She''d read a lot about what he''d done, and while Isamu was powerful, it could be dangerous.


    "What do you think they''re talking about in there?" asked Oresa.


    "Trade rights," said Urus from where he was meditating. His dark hair was falling around his shoulders. "That''s what this whole thing is all about in the end."


    "You''re kidding," said Isamu. "I thought we were here for a visit?"


    "Do you really think Eastern and Western Kalthak would get together over that, Isamu?" asked Urus. "No, there are things far more important to a monarch''s pride at stake here."


    "Like what? Some ancient evil rising from the oceans?" asked Oresa, excited at the prospect of adventure.


    "Trade rights, as I said," said Urus. "King Nagos of Chaminus, a vassal King of Dinis, has recently expanded his empire to Macshore. With his strong friendship with Abdul Sahshir, they now control the Islands of Power."


    "So what?" asked Isamu. "It''s a big ocean."


    "Not big enough, it seems," said Urus. "They are in a position to tax all Western Kalthakian ships a great deal. Sahshir is exempt from those taxes because he played a part in it. And he is in a position to help Western Kalthak similarly."


    "It''s just a bunch of contracts and coins; who even cares?" asked Isamu.


    Cadas looked up and shifted but said nothing. Still, it was more of a reaction than he usually had.


    "I imagine the people whose livelihood is on the line may, Isamu," said Urus, annoyed.


    "What, the beancounters?" scoffed Isamu. "They have more money than they could spend in a lifetime. What do they need more for?"


    "They are people, Isamu," said Urus. "And people have expenses."


    "Whatever you say," said Isamu.


    "That was some entrance, wasn''t it?" asked Cadas suddenly.


    Oresa remembered how she''d almost panicked when the Silent Guard had appeared. She''d read about their fearsome reputation as warrior monks. Yet seeing them appear all around them like that had made her afraid. And it had been worse with Sahshir on his throne, writhed in flame. Oresa had felt his eyes upon her there, with that beautiful blonde woman.


    And Asim had been next to him as a subordinate.


    What kind of power did he have to have for Asim to serve him? Asim had laid villages to waste rather than give up his crown. And now he kneeled to Sahshir.


    "Technically, it was not an entrance but a reveal," said Urus.


    "Who cares?" asked Isamu. "It doesn''t matter to me how he reveals himself. No way is he anywhere my equal.


    "What kind of coward hides behind a mask anyway?"


    Isamu was so strong and confident. Oresa knew that when he became confident, he became unstoppable. But then Oresa noticed several of the Silent Guard assembling before them. Their hands were upon their blades. Isamu turned and set his hand to his own blade. "You got a problem with what I''m saying, black mask?"


    Oresa quickly got behind Isamu and out of the line of fire. Cadas rose up and fitted his gauntlets as Urus raised his staff. More of the guards had now assembled as Isamu took a stance, and they formed up. "Hey, speak up, will you? What are you, mute?"


    Didn''t he know? Then again, Isamu probably had a lot more important things to do. Oresa didn''t really do anything to be helpful much so-


    "No, they are members of the Silent Guard, a Kalthakian organization," said Urus. "They are the Royal Guard to the King and sworn to silence until they leave it. They are both warriors and monks.


    "And you are insulting their liege lord in front of them."


    "Sounds boring to me," said Isamu, turning away. "Hey, Cadas, you up for a spar?"


    "From the looks of things, they are," said Cadas.


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    The Silent Guard drew their swords.


    "Fair enough," said Isamu.


    And then, just before he drew his sword, Asim dropped down from the nearby balcony. Clad in his armor, he made a three-point landing, sword in hand. Rising up, he raised a hand. "Stay your blades, men."


    Isamu''s eyes narrowed as his body changed, a snarl coming to his lips. "Asim."


    "Isamu," said Asim. "I am surprised you still draw breath."


    Isamu drew his sword, and the blade made the air howl in agony. A rage surrounded him, and Isamu seemed more beast than man. Oresa shuddered as Urus stepped forward and caught his hand.


    "Hold on, Isamu!" said Urus. "We can''t fight him here!"


    "Indeed, we cannot," said Asim with a smile. "For I am the uncle of the King. And you would do well to watch your tone; you are within our home."


    "From a strictly rational perspective, one place is the same as the other," said Urus simply. "There is nothing notable or special about any land or domain. Only in the thoughts which you hold toward it."


    "Spoken like a true student of Western Kalthak barbarism," snarled Asim. "Which order of monks enslaved your mind, boy?"


    "I am of the Reasonists," said Urus.


    "I know Isamu''s shadow; I believe I nearly killed him once," said Asim, glancing at Cadas. "But what of your fourth companion?" asked Asim, turning to Oresa. "What role do you play in this remarkable band. Healer? I note you do not seem in any hurry to join your companions."


    "You have no way to talk to Oresa that way, you bastard," snarled Isamu. "No low-life like you has any right to speak to anyone like that! Oresa is one of us!"


    "Oh yes, I had forgotten that tongue of yours, half-beast," said Asim. "Very well, out of respect for your status as a warrior, I shall extend her the courtesy of being an enemy.


    "Well, no matter." He motioned, and the Silent Guard assembled. "See to it that none of them die. I''ll deal with Isamu. Oh, and... not a sound."


    And then it began.


    The Silent Guard surged forward toward Urus and Cadas. The two of them dodged away and stood back to back, fighting. Even as they did, Isamu and Asim rushed toward one another. Their blades clashed, and Asim was forced back. Yet he turned the strikes and lashed Isamu across the cheek, nearly taking his head off. And the Silent Guard did not make a sound; even their footsteps were silent.


    Isamu flinched away and brought his blade around, which would have cut Asim in half. Yet the man dropped forward to one hand and spun over Isamu toward Oresa. Moving to one side, she tried to escape, only for Asim to grab her around the neck. His blade was at her throat.


    "Isamu!" cried Oresa in terror.


    The fighting stopped.


    "Hey, leave her alone, you bastard!" snarled Isamu. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I told you I would afford her the courtesy of being an enemy," said Asim. "Did you think she would remain exempt because she is a girl?"


    "You low-life scum!!" cried Isamu.


    His blade was suddenly writhed in black fire. As he did, the flames withered the grass beneath him. Now Oresa saw what he was doing; he planned to fire it over Asim and strike him down without hurting her. Isamu was really amazing.


    "Isamu, wait!" cried Urus.


    Isamu hurled the flames toward them in a wave of power-


    Then Kushina landed between them. Raising a hand, she caught the flames as they came, and a shield arose. The flames died in moments, and the withered grass was restored to its former state. The Silent Guard withdrew.


    "That... was far more than a mere sparring match," said Kushina, who had disappeared after meeting them at the gate.


    "Who are you?" asked Isamu.


    "I am Priestess Kushina, religious advisor to King Sahshir," said Kushina. "Though I believe I introduced myself once before today. In the name of Baltoth, I declared this match a draw." Then she glanced back. "I''m surprised at you, Asim."


    Asim removed the sword from Oresa''s neck and walked past. "Permit an old man his amusements. If that attack had landed, I may have survived. However, it would certainly have killed the Princess and lost Isamu his head."


    "Does Sahshir know of this?" asked Kushina.


    "He ordered me to take the measure of Belosh''s guards," said Asim.


    "What kind of coward takes a girl hostage!" snarled Isamu.


    "I won''t even dignify that with a response," said Asim, sheathing his blade and walking for the door. "I would love to drain your blood into the sands, Isamu. However, we shall have to put off our reckoning for another time.


    "We will settle this matter during the tournament." The door shut behind him.


    "Tournament?" asked Isamu.


    "There is a great tournament planned between the two sides," said Kushina. "All the warriors shall participate. Have you been paying attention?"


    "Why didn''t you tell me, Urus?" asked Isamu.


    "I did!" said Urus. "If you paid attention now and then, you might notice these things."


    "I suggest you have your wounds looked at," said Kushina. "I have an urgent message for King Sahshir; it cannot wait." Then she walked forward to the door, only to find it held against her by the Silent Guard.


    "I am well aware that this is a meeting among royals," said Kushina. "However, this is a matter of faith. As High Priestess of Baltoth, I am within my right to decree it an emergency." Then she looked back. "You haven''t changed, Oresa."


    And she walked out.


    Oresa looked down, feeling awful. Cadas came forward. "What was that about?"


    "I... Kushina and I trained together in the healing arts," said Oresa. "She was always everything I wanted to be."


    "Well, that was a disaster," said Urus. "We lost outright."


    "No, we didn''t!" snapped Isamu. "We would have cleared them out easily if he hadn''t taken Oresa hostage!"


    "But he did," said Urus.


    "I... I''m sorry, Isamu," said Oresa. "I should have acted faster, but..."


    "It was his fault, not yours," said Isamu before coming forward. "Could you help me with this injury, please?"


    "Right," said Oresa.


    The cut Asim had dealt Isamu was already healing, but she managed to speed the recovery. It was something. Then, there was a sound beyond the door.


    "Is that... shouting?" asked Urus.


    The door opened, and Sahshir stormed out of the gates with the beautiful blonde woman behind him. "I will not negotiate this time, Narcissa," said Sahshir. "I have indulged your people in many things, but not in this. I will write the decree myself!"


    "It is a sacred custom of our people, Sahshir," said Narcissa. "It is the woman''s choice to offer her own flesh unto Zigildrazia."


    "It is a sacred custom among my people that when women hack infants to pieces with hooks, we burn them," said Sahshir. "Let us both leave the other culture to their custom and see who lives to tell of it."


    Kushina then came out behind them, and Oresa moved up to her. "What''s going on?"


    "To Zigildrazians, children are an extension of their mother," said Kushina. "They exist as a limb and may act contrary to or without her. But they are, in the end, hers to do with as she likes. In the interests of health, the Mother must care for the child or risk spreading disease.


    "But it is also considered the most incredible show of devotion to Zigildrazia. To willingly mar your own flesh for her exemplifies her beliefs.


    "As such, it was a practice among citizens of Zigilus to lead depraved lifestyles. They would then bear a child and have it ritually hacked to pieces by hooked blades. In return, they receive payment from the priests of Zigildrazia."


    "That''s sick!" said Isamu.


    "Yes, and Sahshir is planning to pass a law. Anyone who practices blood rites shall be burned alive. Alongside the priests who performed the ritual, as well," said Kushina.


    "It''s a woman''s choice!" proclaimed Narcissa.


    "Yes, and the law is my choice," said Sahshir. "And I ''choose'' that anyone who murders infants will be burned alive. If you kill your own child, your life is forfeit."


    "And what about Mothers whose health is endangered by their child and must have the operation!" asked Narcissa.


    "That would be the exception that proves the rule," said Sahshir before walking on.


    Narcissa followed after him. "And what am I supposed to say to my people? They''ll be enraged by this!"


    "Justify the indefensible; your people have a talent for that," said Sahshir. He raised a hand of steel while not looking back.


    This visit was...


    It''s not going to end well.

 Chapter Three: The Wooden Blade

    Narcissa had been spending too much time with Sahshir.


    She was, officially at least, the leader of the Zigildrazians refugees. What she did affect how their subordinates behaved. And Sahshir was corrupting her, bringing her further and further away from Zigildrazia. King Sahshir had saved and drawn them out of Dinis, but now he was trying to cull their culture.


    Even now, many of those who performed Zigildrazia''s rites were in prison. They were awaiting execution for destroying an extension of themselves.


    Alkela was grateful to him for teaching her sign language. That, however, still did not change his actions. As she opened the door, she walked through. Beyond, she found Sahshir looking through scrolls in his office. He looked up.


    "Ah, Alkela, I take it you have the names and evidence for each accused, as I requested," said Sahshir. Alkela drew out the scrolls she had been handed, wondering why she was being trusted with this. Though, for now, that trust was not in vain.


    Sahshir took it quickly. "Thank you. I would prefer to look over these if there is nothing else."


    Alkela remained where she was.


    "Yes, what is it?" asked Sahshir.


    Alkela quickly made sign language, making her intentions clear. There had yet to be a place for the Zigildrazian warriors in the tournament. Sahshir raised where his eyebrows would typically. "So, you wish to compete in the coming tournament. Why?"


    Alkela pointed out that most New Zigilus'' warriors focused on the shorelines. Raiders from Sorn had menaced some of the fishing villages. Alkela had ordered the priests to spread the word of Zigildrazia while there, of course. However, it was anyone''s game as to who would win this. "Well, I suppose someone from Zigilus should represent your people. With Narcissa out of the running, it is just as well."


    And then Narcissa stormed into the room. She was carrying a sheet of parchment that she threw down on the table. "What is this?"


    "Hmm?" asked Sahshir. "I feel it is somewhat self-explanatory, to be honest."


    "You''re banning me from the tournament," said Narcissa.


    "And myself as well," said Sahshir. "As King of Kaltak, I cannot be seen to publically lose at anything. And you, as the leader of your people, have the same restriction. So does Belosh as well. Though I doubt he minds as much as myself."


    "Are you insane?" asked Narcissa. "They''ve got a demi-god on their side! Isamu literally killed an entire army of bandits single-handed!


    "We need every warrior we can get, or we won''t stand a chance!"


    "Yes, and if he wins, I can simply say it was only because I was forbidden from participating," said Sahshir. "If he loses, I can congratulate the warrior that defeated him. Thus assuring my people that he would have fallen to me if he had gotten past them.


    "It''s all about appearances." sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "But I''m the best fighter of my people!" said Narcissa.


    Alkela disagreed and made the appropriate signs. Narcissa sighed. "Alkela, you''re good at fighting, but I have much more experience."


    "Experience you gained because she had to remain behind," noted Sahshir. "You can hardly complain if she wants her own chance at glory."


    "What were you even talking about with Belosh anyway?" asked Narcissa. "You went off alone with him while I entertained his personal guards."


    "Nothing of consequence," said Sahshir. "Alkela, I expect you to deal the Western Kalthakians a well-deserved defeat. We''ve already shown them up by defeating Sorn without their vaunted help. Let us do it once again."


    "What were you talking about?" asked Narcissa flatly.


    Sahshir sighed. "Several things.


    "Belosh is trying to arrange a closer friendship between our peoples and doing so on Tuor''s behalf. In fact, all of this is because of Tuor; he arranged for them to offer help to us during the Macshore War.


    "I gather that Tuor had hoped to establish a union between our factions. We would, naturally, have been the junior partners."


    "But we won without them," noted Narcissa.


    "Precisely, and Nayasha tells me that threw Tuor''s plans off," said Sahshir. "Out of goodwill, I arranged this meeting to help salvage those plans.


    "However, I am doing so as an equal partner. Nayasha has been dispatched back to Tuor''s own domain, of course. He needs no representative when he is coming himself."


    "So, what''s the problem?" asked Narcissa.


    Sahshir clasped his fingers over his iron hand. "As an equal partner, I am owed assurances that Western Kalthak will not betray me. One of those is a marriage alliance. I asked after Oresa, implying that I desired to wed her.


    "I believe I predicted that I was going to be insulted. I was right."


    "So he refused," guessed Narcissa.


    Sahshir had become increasingly insecure. Apparently, he felt that, as a King, he was obligated to find an appropriate match. Alkela didn''t see why he cared; he was lucky to have gotten as far as he did. In Zigilus, he''d have been sacrificed for his appearance if he had even made it past infancy. He really should just take the victory.


    "Nothing so direct, of course," said Sahshir. "No, he revealed that her heart was taken by... one of the guards; what was his name?"


    "Isamu?" guessed Narcissa. It was a wild guess, but probably correct. Monks were celebrating, and no self-respecting Princess would marry a Dren. Their skin was like mud.


    "Yes, him, the idiot with no sense of his rank," said Sahshir.


    "The one who killed an entire army of bandits singlehanded," said Narcissa.


    "I''ve heard that I routed the assembled legions of Dinis and the armies of Typhos by myself," noted Sahshir. "That does not make the story true."


    "Fair enough," said Nayasha. "So, what is this all about?"


    "Simple enough, we''ll just have to destroy Isamu," said Sahshir. "If Oresa is no longer in love with Isamu. Isamu is disgraced, so living him would be contemptible; Belosh will be out of excuses."


    "But it''s just an excuse," said Nayasha. "He''ll find another one."


    "Yes, but then it will be plain to everyone that he has insulted me," said Sahshir. "And I will have an excuse to cut off all ties." Ah, this would be one of those things where Sahshir took a stand on principle. Thereby instantly destroying every plan, including his own.


    "Tuor won''t like that much," said Narcissa.


    "Tuor is no longer my father nor King of this land," said Sahshir. "I am not beholden to him, and if I am not afforded my rights, I see no reason to join his schemes."


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    "Why do you even care about Oresa?" asked Narcissa, mirroring Alkela''s thoughts. "You don''t even know her."


    "I don''t," said Sahshir flatly.


    That was...


    That was an unexpectedly honest statement. Alkela was impressed.


    "...Okay," said Narcissa.


    "Narcissa, I don''t care about anyone," said Sahshir. "If my closest companion were to die before me, I would feel nothing for them. Only what I, personally, had lost.


    "My concern is for my duties and responsibilities.


    "And one of those responsibilities is protecting the dignity of my position. An insult to me is an insult to all of Eastern Kalthak.


    "I shall lay all of the West to waste before I brook an insult to East.


    "Is there anything else?"


    They were going to have a war, weren''t they?


    "...Perhaps you should get a second opinion from your god," said Narcissa.


    "I suppose Baltoth may that I consult him on this," said Sahshir. "Very well, you''ve convinced me. I will speak with Kushina at once."


    And he stood to walk out.


    Alkela followed him at a distance, moving quietly and softly to stay out of sight. Sahshir seemed preoccupied and did not pick her up. He made his way out of the palace and turned right to walk toward the Shrine of Baltoth. Sliding aside the door, he entered it. Alkela moved next to the door and listened.


    "Sahshir, you haven''t visited in some time," said Kushina''s voice.


    "I will be looking over the evidence against each accused and will make a judgment in time," said Sahshir. "For now, I must consult you on something of great import."


    "I guess by your tone that you seek Baltoth''s word and not mine," said Kushina. "Very well, how may I help you?"


    "I find myself at a crossroads," said Sahshir. "Tuor, the Disciple of Baltoth, desires closer relations be made between East and West. Yet King Belosh has shown me no respect. I am asked to make an Alliance without the traditional exchanges. This I take to be an insult and a grievous one.


    "I must obey the will of Baltoth. Yet, I must also defend the honor of my people.


    "How, then, am I to answer such an attack?"


    "You can make no direct revenge upon Belosh or his kind. Not without deviating from the constraints of honor," replied Kushina. "Therefore, your revenge must be done indirectly, with words rather than the blade.


    "You must-"


    Then another door opened, and a set of footsteps, those of a child, rushed in. "Kushina! Kushina!"


    "Sister, I am meeting with Sahshir and cannot be disturbed," said Kushina. "That is to say, the King."


    "But Kushina, the other children are telling lies about me," said her sister. What was her name again? "I need to get my bow so I can shoot them."


    "Schzara, responding to insults with murder is not Baltoth''s way," said Kushina. "If they are lying about you, you should find out the truth."


    "The truth?" asked Schzara.


    "Yes, figure out the weaknesses in their character," said Kushina. "The things about them that they want to ignore. Then show it to them. That will destroy them far more effectively than any lie they could tell about you."


    "Thanks, sister, um, Sahshir; I''m really sorry about interrupting," said Schzara.


    "Now, I believe I was advising you?" said Kushina, probably turning back to Sahshir.


    "I believe you already have," said Sahshir. "Thank you very much."


    Alkela glanced up and saw a messenger rushing toward the door. Sitting down crosslegged,


    Alkela pretended she was there as a guard. Aside from the low-cut nature of her kimono, she''d be fine. The man passed her without noticing and opened the door, rushing in before kneeling. Sahshir glanced up and saw Alkela at once.


    "King Sahshir," said the samurai.


    "Yes, what is it?" asked Sahshir.


    "Pardon the interruption. But Isamu has been sparring with many of our warriors," said the samurai. "So far, he and his friends are undefeated. We are being made to look like fools."


    "Very well," said Sahshir. "Kushina, assemble the sword trainees in the training ground outside here." Then he moved by Alkela without a word, and Alkela followed through the streets. As they did, people bowed as Sahshir walked by them, almost on reflex.


    Men looked at him now with respect and adoration, albeit dangerous. When Alkela had first come here, there was far more uncertainty.


    The city barracks was a large, one-story building with a tiled roof and mud-brick walls. Outside the gate, the sound of fighting could be found within. Coming to the door, a guard kneeled.


    "King Sahshir, how may I help you, sir?"


    "Make no announcement of my arrival," said Sahshir. "I wish to observe those of Western Kalthak in action."


    "How will you disguise yourself," said the man.


    "I won''t," said Sahshir. "Where are Isamu and his companions?"


    "Within the training hall," said the man. "They are..."


    "Yes?" asked Sahshir.


    "Undisciplined but not unskilled," said the man. "They insisted on bringing the Princess in with them. She may train, too, but I''ve seen no sign of it. Mostly, it is the Dren, Isamu, and the monk."


    "Then we''ll see how they are progressing," said Sahshir.


    Alkela took a moment to appreciate that Sahshir was pretending she did not exist. Alkela preferred to be beneath notice. Still, as they walked through the halls, they entered the training room. Within it, Isamu was dueling with the Dren and the monk. Several men were lying at the far end, unconscious. Several others were healing them or standing at the ready.


    "Come on, Urus, Cadas put up a fight, will you," said Isamu, spinning his blade casually. "I''ve already defeated the others!"


    "Don''t take me lightly, Isamu," said Urus.


    "Urus, Cadus, be careful," said Oresa, who was passive and weak like always. She was healing some of those who had been hurt.


    On it went as the battle went on. Now and then, when an injury was sustained, Oresa was called on to heal it. There wasn''t any discipline about it. Apparently, Oresa was used to heal wounds in training. Urus and Cadas seemed to pay her thanks, but Isamu hardly noticed her. But the way Oresa looked at Isamu was clearly starstruck.


    Why would be the question Alkela would ask?


    "Hold on, we''re being watched," said Isamu, turning to where Sahshir was. He was coated in sweat from his efforts.


    "You train a great deal, don''t you?" asked Sahshir.


    "Skulking in the shadows again?" asked Isamu.


    "The King of Kalthak is expected to win battles," said Sahshir. "Everything else is secondary."


    "That''s some code to live by," said Isamu.


    "And what code do you live by?" asked Sahshir. "You, who shows no respect for rank or others?"


    "I don''t believe in anything but what I see," said Isamu.


    "And what do you see here, in this place?" asked Sahshir.


    "Nobody worth fighting at the moment," said Isamu. "Urus and Cadas are better than most of the others. Why are you interested in trying your luck?"


    "Perhaps I am," said Sahshir. "But not here. I will have a place prepared."


    Sometime later, Sahshir and Isamu stood at the center of an outdoor training ground. The two stood in stances before one another, eyeing stances. Men were standing by and watching, and several passerbys came to look at it.


    "You really want to make a public spectacle of your defeat?" asked Isamu.


    "Only a fool declares victory before his last stroke has fallen," said Sahshir.


    "Guess that makes you one with all the airs you''re putting on," said Isamu.


    "...Believe what you will," said Sahshir.


    "Isamu, be careful," said Oresa, voice concerned.


    Isamu finally glanced back and gave her a reassuring smile. "Don''t worry, Oresa. I''ll win."


    "Is it wise to be so confident when facing an accomplished swordsman?" asked Sahshir.


    "What, you scared?" asked Isamu.


    Murmurs of anger came from the men. Sahshir had become a legend lately, a man who wounded gods. A being who had torn off his own arm rather than suffer an insult to his Kingdom. This kind of blanket accusation was not going to end well.


    Sahshir drew his sword. Then he handed it to Alkela, much to her surprise. "Far from it."


    Alkela took the Sword of Order and felt a rush through her. Holding it made her feel a bit odd like she was wholly disconnected from this world. An impartial observer, knowing all and seeing things far away. Yet the moment passed.


    "What, why are you throwing away your sword?" asked Isamu. "What are you giving up?"


    Sahshir ignored him and made his way over to a child who had been training. Kneeling by him, he put out a hand. "You, boy, give me your bokken."


    "My bokken?" asked the boy.


    "Yes, I will use it instead," said Sahshir.


    "But King Sahshir..." said the boy.


    "All is as Baltoth wills it," said Sahshir.


    The boy gave it to him, and Sahshir drew it up. Walking past, he turned back to Isamu and took a stance. Isamu looked angry. "A wooden sword? You complain about me being confident, and you won''t even use a real weapon?"


    "If I am overconfident, you need only defeat me to prove it," said Sahshir. "If I defeat you, then I was correct in my assessment of you."


    Isamu paused. "...Fair enough."


    Then Kushina came forward between them to do the rites.


    "Warriors of Baltoth, prepare yourselves and let the better one be chosen," said Kushina.


    "Is it really fair for Isamu to fight him when he has nothing but a wooden sword?" asked Cadas.


    "No," said Urus in deadpan. "Isamu is done for."


    "Don''t worry, Urus; Isamu said he''d win," said Oresa. "When he looks confident like that, he can''t lose. And he said he''d win. When he says that, it means he really believes it. He never goes back on his word."


    The signal was given. This was going to be good.


    "Let''s go!" cried Isamu. He surged forward, blade swinging.


    Sahshir stepped aside from Isamu''s blade and brought his bokken around. It struck Isamu in the back of the neck, and he fell forward to hit the ground hard. Alkela laughed hysterically and wished people could hear her do it. That was the problem with not being able to make a sound.


    "Isamu!" cried Oresa, running forward.


    "Extraordinary," said Kushina. "It appears that merely saying one shall be victorious does not lead to victory. No matter."


    "Sahshir! Sahshir! Sahshir! Sahshir!" came the call.


    The men of Eastern Kalthak cheered in unison as Sahshir returned the blade to the boy. He then began to walk away. Alkela filed in behind him alongside Kushina as Isamu rose up again. "You...


    "Come back here! We''re not done!"


    "The duel is over," said Sahshir. "Were I wielding the Sword of Order, your head would be at your feet. Win the tournament if you wish to prove yourself more than a braggart."


    "You... I''ll be there, you bastard!" snarled Isamu.


    "Of course, you will," scoffed Sahshir.


    And then he handed the wooden blade back to the boy. "Practice your stances. All of us have duties to fulfill."


    Then he walked off and was followed.


    "What made you so certain of your victory?" asked Kushina.


    "He dueled an entire barracks of experienced troops, so he was tired," said Sahshir. "Isamu was also overconfident, and the fact that I had taken a bokken made him regard me as overconfident.


    "All this combined to ensure he was off his game while I was fully focused. I was nearly hit by his opening attack, actually."


    "And what if he had beaten you anyway?" asked Kushina.


    "Then, we truly would have been inferior to Western Kalthak and would need to know as much," said Sahshir.


    "You may have made a powerful enemy today," noted Kushina.


    Sahshir laughed. "Truth be told, I was trying to break his neck. If I''d cut it in half with the Sword of Order, there might have been an incident. However, I am well enough content with displaying my superiority at his expense."


    Alkela liked this side of Sahshir, actually. She wished they''d spent more time together.


    "I''m pleased to see that you have found contentment in life, son," said a familiar voice. "Less so that it happens in a way that could start a war."


    Tuor, the Disciple of Baltoth, turned a corner. So the cosmic killjoy had finally arrived, had he?

 Chapter Four: Tournaments and Executions

    Tuor was the last person Sahshir wished to speak with at the moment. He had stayed the same from when they had last met. His skin had been a bit more tanned by the sun. His white hair was a bit longer, and he wore a white vest and baggy pants with a rope belt. His muscular form was on full display with his arms, and he had nunchucks at his left side.


    When Tuor had requested he set up this meeting, Sahshir had immediately wondered as to the reason. He had not been satisfied with Tuor''s claim that it was to remedy relations. There was always a secondary purpose to everything the man did.


    "Tuor, where have you been?" asked Sahshir. A glance at Alkela revealed that Narcissa''s twin had already moved off. Kushina stood just behind, and Sahshir motioned for her to stay back.


    "Engineering a great many things," said Tuor, walking forward. "It is the will of Baltoth that Kalthak be reunified in time. You seem to have interfered with his designs in your zeal to ensure his greatness."


    "You''re a fool if you believe Baltoth did not account for that," noted Sahshir, walking past him. He did not actually believe Tuor about any of that.


    "Perhaps," said Tuor, moving to walk beside him. For a moment, they walked, with neither saying anything. Sahshir looked up at the sky as a cloud passed before the sun. "Let us say that I have had to work overtime to adjust the execution of his plans, then." Tuor might have some small idea of the difficulties he''d left for Sahshir. Though Tuor had not had to fear Asim might murder him for a skin disease.


    "And what were those plans?" asked Sahshir. He was genuinely curious about what good Tuor thought could come from all this.


    "Western Kalthak has always been the stronger of the two," said Tuor with a shrug, "the ground is more fertile. And it connects to many influential trade routes. Because of the desires of the Lords of Eastern Kalthak. Baltoth allowed you to maintain independence."


    "And because of Asim''s valor and the defeat of Belosh in many battles," noted Sahshir.


    "Asim is a fool," snapped Tuor. "He started a civil war that killed thousands. His actions weakened both of us and nearly led to your death. And through your death, it would have been the death of us all. A reunification would have been to both country''s benefit.


    "You would have ruled as a vassal king and well protected. Without the endless feuding, the focus could have been securing the land. Roads could have been built, and all you have achieved here would have been done far sooner. With the fall of Zigilus, Calisha could have expanded into Dinis."


    "You assume there would have been peace," scoffed Sahshir. "Eastern Kalthak would be enslaved, not reunified. Our Lords would bend the knee to Belosh as our people grew fat and lazy. We seek glory against the enemies of Baltoth. It is our purpose to bring destruction upon his enemies.


    "And we will not suffer domination by foreign overlords who abandoned us once before. Where was the West when Safara was devouring the maidens she enchanted? Nowhere to be found."


    "You speak as though the pursuit of valor is the only worthwhile one," noted Tuor.


    "It is," said Sahshir. "Though valor may be achieved in all things. To strive to lead a virtuous life as a merchant. They charge reasonable pay and manage one''s affairs with integrity? That is no less glorious than to behave as a samurai ought to. It is merely another aspect of a greater society.


    "All men have their parts.


    "To play them well is to become worthy of remembrance, even if the memory of you fades."


    "You seem to have put much thought into all this," said Tuor.


    "Of course," said Sahshir. "No one else was willing to do as much, so the task fell to me."


    "Perhaps you are correct," said Tuor. "Perhaps you are not. We cannot know what would have happened, only what did. As things stand, you have made Eastern Kalthak far more powerful.


    "You stand in a position to act as an equal partner to King Belosh rather than a lesser king. However, King Belosh and his associates still believe themselves to be superior. They do not like having to treat you as an equal. With your recent humiliation of Isamu, they may become hostile."


    "Let them," snapped Sahshir. "I''ve endured as many insults as I am willing to. If they decide to flee back home and show themselves as cowards, I will be no worse than the wear for it. They would make a poisonous ally in any case."


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    "I would be cautious about acting out of spite, Sahshir," said Tuor. "To ignore warnings out of anger benefits no one save your enemies. And you, as king, are obligated to act in the interests of Baltoth''s plan, are you not?"


    "And what do you suggest?" asked Sahshir, more annoyed by the moment. He had not seen Tuor in years, not since his training. There had been a point where he''d been ready to murder the man in a rage. That rage had fallen away to respect. Now, however, he felt more of a simmering fury.


    He''d gotten what he needed from Tuor and owed him nothing. Their mutual cooperation benefited them, but Sahshir did not trust him.


    "It might be well to instruct some of your warriors in the tournament to feign defeat," said Tuor. "To put as much effort to show their valor but forfeit out of respect.


    "It would salvage King Belosh''s reputation."


    "King Belosh has dealt me only insult and, in his efforts, discredited himself," said Sahshir. "Why should I order my men to demean themselves for his vaunted pride?"


    "Because I have asked you to," said Tuor.


    Sahshir stopped and looked at the man. I just... looked at him. Tuor apparently realized that he had not won much favor with Sahshir. Tuor frowned at the realization, and their gazing battle continued. Drawing up his hands, he crossed his arms.


    "Have I not been of great value as an ally?" asked Tuor. "Without my aid, you never would have subjugated Asim. Even if you had, it would have been a bloodbath, and you would have spent your reign putting down rebellions.


    "I believe I have earned respect and gratitude."


    Perhaps he had. Yet Sahshir remembered the fall of Zigilus after Garacel stole the Blade of Chaos. Tuor had contacts within and had known enough to open the gates for the legions of Dinis. How, then, had Tuor not learned of the attack sent by Garacel? It seemed a spectacular oversight.


    Too spectacular. Tuor was never that careless, and if he had let Garacel through...


    It raised too many questions.


    "You put me in this position, Tuor," said Sahshir, looking away with a sigh. "Your betrayal of Elranor cursed me with this body. The abandoning of your responsibility nearly claimed my life. Do you expect me to forget that?"


    Tuor fell silent for a long time, and the silence stretched between them. Several people walked in a wide birth around them. "There is a way you may be cured."


    "What do you mean?" asked Sahshir.


    "For some time now, I have been planning a mission," said Tuor after a moment, "a great quest, if you will. I might add one that has only been made possible by your recovery of the Grail of Immortality. Its goal is to seize the Heaven''s Eye from Gel Carn."


    "Gel Carn?" asked Sahshir. "That Dark Land where Anoa the Bright made his fortress? A place where the power of Elranor is at its zenith?"


    "The same, I''m afraid," said Tuor. "And my homeland. It will be dangerous and will require only the greatest of warriors. The world''s fate may well rest on this mission, in fact. For a time of destiny is now upon us.


    "To achieve this, it will require one who has the blood of Elranor. For only they can touch the Heaven''s Eye. You, Sahshir."


    "What is that to me?" asked Sahshir. "I cannot leave my realm without good cause."


    "There is a good cause," said Tuor. "The Heaven''s Eye is a nexus of powerful, healing energies. Elranor forged it himself before he came down from the stars. In the days when it was being used, it was said that it could heal any sickness. Any injury or disease could disappear instantly.


    "Once, King Anoa invaded the land now called the Dusk Lands. Laying siege to the castle of Del Gabor, he fought a gruesome battle. Yet, in the end, Anoa was forced to retreat south as King Anasar arrived with his elves.


    "After a desperate flight, Anoa''s men were exhausted, injured, and waning. The elves were nearing them, and all seemed lost. Then Elranor granted him the Heaven''s Eye, and Anoa raised it aloft. In an instant, all the wounds of his soldiers were healed, and their strength restored. They fell upon the armies of King Anasar and fought a pitched battle.


    "King Anasar met King Anoa in single combat, and Anoa was nearly overwhelmed. But his greatest knight, Sir Orson, stopped him. Anasar was worsted, and Orson struck his head from his shoulders. And so a great, if near, victory was won.


    "Without the gem, Anoa would surely have been destroyed."


    "What is your point by this tale?" asked Sahshir, finding the story interesting.


    "If you were to be restored to full health. It is doubtful that King Belosh would have the same reservations," said Tuor. "You could have Oresa and any women you wanted. And your lifetime would be normal for a human, perhaps enhanced."


    "So that''s why you came here personally," mused Sahshir.


    "That and you are a formidable enough power to be worthy of personal attention," said Tuor. "Once we seize the Heaven''s Eye, it will be delivered to Ruscow. With the Grail of Immortality, Baltoth may finally achieve his designs."


    "And when would this... quest be undertaken?" asked Sahshir.


    "After the tournament, of course," said Tuor. "It would not do to cut it short. Such displays have a function of their own."


    Sahshir drew off the glove on his remaining hand and looked at it. The flesh was blackened and cracked. Moving it caused him pain, a pain he was as used to as the air he breathed. If they could retrieve the Heaven''s Eye, Sahshir could be healed. From the beginning, he could be restored to how he ought to have been. And by doing this, he would be advancing the desires of Baltoth.


    It was said that miracles came unlooked for.


    There was only one response Sahshir could make. Yet...


    What if Tuor had some other plan here? What if Sahshir''s fears proved true. And he considered how best to defend against such a possibility. At last, he found it.


    "...Very well then, Tuor. I will join this quest," said Sahshir. "However, Isamu and his compatriots will go with us. I want Eastern Kalthak invested in this quest." To throw them into the mix would create an element of chaos in whatever plan was made. At the very least, they would be unable to aid Belosh should he invade.


    Tuor shifted slightly. "I suppose they might well be helpful. Though I had hoped to bring Nayasha."


    "And I will not be rigging any matches," said Sahshir. "They shall unfold as they unfold."


    "Well, the strong should be known as much, should they not?" asked Tuor.


    Sahshir had known he was condemned to die for his entire life. It had hung over him like a cloak on his shoulders. Now, however, that cloak had been lifted. He had...


    Hope.


    Yes, he would die. But to be given an average lifespan? To be freed of pain and death for a time?


    What could he achieve if he was healed? He had already done much as king. But were he to restore his power, he might become the greatest king Kalthak had ever known. Sahshir might leave behind a Kingdom that none would ever surpass.


    And he wondered if this had not been the plan all along.


    All was, after all, as Baltoth willed it.


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 Chapter Five: The Tournament

    The tournament, so far, had been spectacular. Many samurai fought in battle, yearning to bring glory to their Lord. One by one, pairs of them entered the ring and did battle. Sword met swear and axe, and as one was defeated, another advanced.


    The flowing banners of their houses were taken down little by little. Now, there were only a few left.


    Belosh watched as Cadas caught Alkela''s mace with one gauntletted fist. A shockwave ensued, and Cadas brought around his other fist. Yet Alkela leaped into the air, flipping over Cadas and freeing her mace. Bringing the weapon around, she drove Cadas back with rapid strikes.


    The crowd went wild as the huge man fought against the blonde. Finally, Cadas stepped back and smashed both gauntlets together. Alkela raised her mace, and the sun glinted off her armor. Then she leaped into the air, bringing down a two-handed strike. Her mace was surrounded by a reddish glow.


    Cadas met the battle head-on.


    There was a clash, and both fell back. Alkela landed on the ground while Cadas flew back beyond the ring. He landed hard and tried to rise. Cheers deafened.


    "Alkela is victorious once more. Cadas is defeated," said Sahshir.


    Oresa ran forward toward where Cadas was lying and summoned her healing. Orange radiance was sent forward to surround Cadas, restoring his health. Belosh drew out his listening stone and tuned it to where she was. He heard her voice then. "Cadas!


    "It''s alright, Cadas, I have you."


    "Oresa, take care of him," said Isamu, coming forward.


    Cadas was the first among Isamu''s group to be defeated. He''d always had the back luck to end up against the strongest enemy in each tournament. However, he had not faced Asim, so that was fortunate. Even now, Belosh could see the black-armored warrior observing. He ended up glaring at Isamu, who returned the gaze.


    He''d defeated every enemy he''d faced with absolute ease. His strikes had been brutal, and one of those he''d faced was dead.


    "She wields a mace with a savage beauty I have hardly seen," said Belosh, looking to Alkela. Were she not one of the tainted of Zigilus, Belosh would have loved to have her as one of his consorts. Glancing to Sahshir, he saw the masked King was observing with equal fervor. Had he truly fought and defeated Asim?


    "She is a veteran of Zigilus and hunted demons before the wars," said Sahshir. "Cadas seems a formidable warrior in his own right as well."


    "A distant cousin of Isamu," said Belosh. "His family are also descendants of Rammas. But his blood is several generations diluted."


    "Blood is but the physical matter we inhabit," said Sahshir. "Who we are is defined entirely by what we do and nothing else."


    "Is it true you first drew blood within Zigilus?" asked Belosh. There were a great many legends about that battle. The land in that region had become a nightmarish, untamed jungle of monstrous beasts.


    "No, it was before that, in a duel with Tuor," sad Sahshir. "My first kill was when Garacel attacked the capital.


    "Alkela and Narcissa accompanied Garacel in an assault on this place. They were hoping to steal the Blade of Chaos. In that, they were, unfortunately, successful."


    "I''m told Garacel still possesses the blade," mused Belosh.


    "He does," said Sahshir. "However, there are more important considerations at the moment. One should never focus on faraway threats at the expense of the moment.


    "Asim is next, fighting Urus.


    "This will be worth seeing, I think."


    "Not really," said Belosh with a shrug. "Urus has always been weaker than Isamu, and Asim is nearly a match for him. Urus does not have a chance."


    Urus came forward onto the field, and Asim came forward as well. Staff and sword flourished and met in a clash. The two dueled and fought back and forth, and Asim seemed to have the advantage.


    "You assume that neither will make any mistakes," noted Sahshir.


    "Is that not a reasonable assumption to make?" asked Belosh.


    "Wars are not won by brute strength alone," said Sahshir. "Even if Asim is far more powerful,


    Urus may adopt a strategy that could win him the match. In every situation, one has advantages and disadvantages." Asim overextended, and Urus struck a leg out from under him. The black-suited samurai fell but turned Urus'' staff. Rolling away, they clashed, but Urus had the advantage, driving him back. "It is merely a matter of exploiting them."


    Suddenly, Asim stopped and attacked. It was, technically, a bad move. But it surprised Urus and put him back on the defensive.


    Then Urus stabbed his staff into the ground. Pushing upward, he spun over Asim. As he did, the team in his hand split into four. Each one was plunged into the soil around Asim, and lightning surged from them. Asim grunted in pain as the bolts struck him.


    "What was that?" asked Sahshir.


    "Spirit sticks," said Belosh. "They channel spiritual power and channel it to the others nearby. Urus has the blood of a lightning spirit in his family line. She gifted that staff to his ancestor, and he may call upon her at will. How do you believe Asim will counter this?"


    "I imagine he''ll weather it," said Sahshir.


    Asim shuddered, now on one knee, as the lightning surged into him. At last, it halted, and the sticks spun back to Urus, merging into a staff.


    "Power is gained through virtue rather than communion with spirits," said Sahshir. "We have faith in Baltoth, but we ask no inherent power of him.


    "The Sword of Order is merely one tool of many, albeit a sacred one.


    "Also, that armor is three hundred years old and blessed with many powerful runes. Asim took it from an ancient tomb in the Kalthakian Wastes."


    Asim surged toward Urus, who rushed in turn to meet him. The two passed one another and halted. As they did, the two remained totally still for a moment. Then Urus fell to his knees and hit the ground. Asim turned his sword around and sheathed it in one movement.


    "As expected," said Sahshir.


    "You said that Urus would win," said Belosh.


    "I said he could win with proper strategy," said Sahshir. "There is a difference, though I am impressed with his conduct."


    Belosh did not know how to read the man. He seemed always to be turning events over in his head. Clearly, he was a far greater threat than Belosh had given him credit for. "The Tournament seems to be going well so far, wouldn''t you say?"


    "Yes, Alkela has proven herself formidable. As has Asim and your own warriors," agreed Sahshir.


    "I had hoped to see Asim''s son in battle," said Belosh. More specifically, to arrange a marriage alliance. He''d taken Sahshir''s advances for Oresa with horror. Though if he were not a leper, he might not find it so objectionable.


    Sushaki was well known as more moderate than his father. He seemed the logical choice for a king when Sahshir died.


    "Sushaki has been sent to the port cities to oversee the reconstruction," said Sahshir. "It is an important duty he could not put down."


    "Well, Asim himself is a formidable opponent in his own right," said Belosh after a moment. So Sahshir was dead set on preventing his authority from being undercut. He would rather Asim take the throne than see Kalthak made whole.


    This could be a problem. Why had Aresh had to become the Disciple of Baltoth? You could reason with the man, but Sahshir seemed to have more of Asim, just with Aresh''s cunning. Belosh dearly hoped things never came to war.


    "I''m told Isamu and Asim have a vendetta," said Sahshir.


    "Yes, that," said Belosh. "Isamu''s mother was killed in a raid conducted by Asim when he was only a child. It was during the three-day war. When I found him, he had a spear on his back and was clinging to life.


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    "My priests saved him, and I had him trained in a militia in a nearby village.


    "He came to my attention later after he killed an entire army of bandits singlehanded."


    "Really?" asked Sahshir, sounding interested.


    "Well, my armies did the finishing blow," admitted Belosh. "But he did throw them into chaos and killed many. After that, he became a powerful asset to my realm.


    "You are a formidable warrior to defeat him."


    "I timed our duel for a time when he would be at a disadvantage," said Sahshir. "Wood may kill as well as steel with the right movements."


    "Mere strategy then?" asked Belosh.


    "Strategy is the proper application of virtue," said Sahshir.


    Belosh mused on the subject. "Isamu seems to be fighting very well in the matches."


    "Naturally, he has something to prove," said Sahshir. "His mind is focused on making up for his humiliation, and so he has power."


    "Do you think he''ll face Asim?" asked Belosh.


    "Perhaps," mused Sahshir. "It is of no interest to me, however, so long as neither dies.


    "Isamu''s match is next, against Alkela. Well, let us see where this goes."


    Isamu and Alkela came forward to face one another. The beautiful blonde donned her helmet, while Isamu wore no armor at all. Drawing his sword, he took his stance. "You''re good, but I''m not going to let anyone get between me and beating Asim."


    Alkela said nothing.


    "What, cat got your tongue?" asked Isamu sarcastically.


    Alkela said nothing, merely shifted in irritation. If Belosh had encountered this curvaceous beauty in his own land, he''d have taken her for his harem in a moment. Still, she was of Zigilus, so it was better to watch.


    "Say something!" snapped Isamu.


    Alkela sighed and made signs with her hands.


    "Sign language..." said Isamu before glancing back. "Hey, Urus, what does that mean?"


    "She says, ''I''m a mute, you idiot.''" said Urus.


    Isamu looked back at Alkela. "Why you..."


    And then Alkela surged forward and attacked in a berserk flurry. Isamu dodged and parried, thrusting and striking. Each blow that touched the ground left cracks in the ring''s floor. Alkela danced away.


    "Both seem exceptionally skilled; I am surprised a female is doing so well," said Belosh.


    "She is a Battleluster of Zigildrazia, it is to be expected," said Sahshir. Alkela launched another furious assault, and Isamu met it head-on.


    "There is a savage beauty about that one, is there not?" asked Belosh. The two combatants were now circling while striking at one another.


    "Why is Oresa not out here?" asked Sahshir in turn.


    "What do you mean?" asked Belosh.


    "Urus and Cadas are fighting, but not Oresa," noted Sahshir.


    "You cannot seriously expect my daughter to participate in this?" asked Belosh. Even Eastern Kalthakins hesitated to send women to fight. At least aside from the priestesses of Baltoth.


    "Is she not one of Isamu''s warrior companions?" asked Sahshir. "Why does she remain on the side, cheering, tending only to wounds. Her efforts are acknowledged as those of a servant, rather than an equal, let alone a superior."


    "Isamu is not what one could call respectful of authority," said Belosh, returning to the fight. By now, Alkela was on the defensive, beginning to tire beneath the onslaught of Isamu.


    "And yet you tolerate him," noted Sahshir.


    "He kills like a god," said Belosh.


    "I have seen gods who kill, and no, he does not," said Sahshir. "He likes spectacle far too much. And he is careless. I''m surprised he is still alive."


    "He is challenging to kill," said Belosh.


    At that moment, Alkela''s twin, Narcissa, came to Sahshir''s side with documents. "Sahshir, a word?"


    "What is it, Narcissa?" asked Sahshir.


    "I''ve just returned from reviewing the cases," said Narcissa. "The orders of execution for those women. Well, it turns out that there was an error." Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What is it?" asked Sahshir.


    "One among them had the child killed for medical reasons. It was draining her life force," said Narcissa.


    "What do you mean by that?" asked Sahshir.


    "My people mix our blood with demons," said Narcissa. "Sometimes, children are born who naturally drain the lifeforce of those close to them. It is a reflex; if they grow up, they can become deadly predators. Those they are close to are consumed, and the mother is usually the first to die.


    "In such a situation, the practice is to perform a sacrifice ritual to Zigildrazia. By doing this, the children might take their place as true succubi."


    "And you wish me to pardon them?" mused Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Narcissa.


    Sahshir nodded. "Very well then, consider it done. Order a halt to the executions. I will review the cases myself for any other reasons I might pardon them. Tell me if any other matters come to my attention.


    "You have my trust, Narcissa. And the responsibility that entails."


    "Thank you," said Narcissa. Then she sat down.


    "Surely such a matter is beneath you," said Belosh.


    "In normal practice? Perhaps," conceded Sahshir. "However, this is the first time I have meddled in their internal matters. As such, it must be conducted justly and with all due mercy. Justice must be done, but not so violently as to inspire hatred."


    Suddenly, Alkela got a blow in. Her mace caught Isamu in the chest and smashed into him. Isamu fell back, bruised but not seriously injured. The next impact caught him on the bicep, and he was defending again.


    "That blow should have killed a lesser man," mused Sahshir.


    "Isamu is no lesser man," said Belosh.


    "Whether he is or not, it''s over," said Sahshir.


    And then Isamu radiated an aura of red and surged forward in a berserk fury. Alkela was driven back, hardly able to respond. At last, her mace was knocked from her hand, and she was thrown from the ring. Belosh smiled.


    "Isamu is complicated to kill," said Belosh.


    "And very little else, it would seem," noted Sahshir.


    Kushina, who had said nothing before now, laughed. "So Isamu is the winner by having god-given power. One that lets him win despite doing nothing to deserve the victory. Excellent, truly excellent. I can see why Baltoth ordered his Father sealed in the darkest dungeon of Ruscow."


    Belosh was annoyed now. These people were flaunting their martial prowess far too much for his liking. Worse still, he had always disliked the priestesses of Baltoth.


    Their fixation on violence and terror as a control method had never sat right with Belosh. He preferred to us diplomacy when he could. It wasted fewer resources and spared men their lives to get what they wanted without striking a blow. If Baltoth weren''t the deity, Belosh should have been worshipping another deity.


    Which, of course, was what this was all about, really.


    "Isamu won because of his own power," said Belosh.


    "Power that requires no discipline is a mere privilege," said Kushina. "It inevitably fails once you run into those who put the work in."


    Soon enough, the last match came about.


    Asim and Isamu came forward in the tournament and faced one another. As they did, they charged at one another without a word. Both attacked with vicious offensives, striking to kill from the looks of things. Yet neither was able to overcome the other.


    Belosh remembered what Tuor had mentioned to him about the nature of the quest. He dearly wanted to get off the subject, as he seemed to be losing on the martial front. "King Sahshir, I wish to speak to you about something.


    "Tuor spoke to me of this quest for the Heaven''s Eye the two of you believe in. Do you truly believe you could retrieve it from the heart of Harlenor?"


    "All things are possible for a man of virtue and faith," said Sahshir.


    "And you consider yourself that?" mused Belosh.


    "I would say I walk the path of both," said Sahshir. "One cannot truly know if that is either, however. Certainly, I am willing to make the attempt."


    "And if you should return, Tuor believes that you will return whole and healed," said Belosh. He was considering his angles at the moment.


    "Perhaps, perhaps not," said Sahshir.


    "Should that occur, I would gladly offer Oresa''s hand in marriage to you," said Belosh. It''s best not to have Sahshir as an enemy. He was obviously a zealot and dangerous, and if he returned healed, well, there were worse matches.


    Sahshir nodded. "My thanks.


    "Of course, Isamu will have to accompany us."


    "Do you believe he will try to prevent such a union?" asked Belosh.


    "Yes," said Sahshir. "I do not like Oresa''s infatuation with Isamu. He shelters her just enough that she does not stand alone, but not enough to make a suitable husband."


    "They seem to be taking this battle personally, aren''t they?" said Kushina.


    Oh yes, the fight between Asim and Isamu? Belosh looked bat to where their blades were moving at an immense rate. The crowd was cheering wildly at what was the pinnacle of martial ability in Kalthak. Belosh made sure to appear interested if only to maintain appearances. He despised violence and preferred to use it as a last resort.


    "Do you truly care, Kushina?" asked Sahshir flatly, who was not even doing that much.


    "I''m surprised, Sahshir," laughed Kushina. "It''s not like you to have no interest in a battle."


    "The outcome of this fight is irrelevant," said Sahshir. "If Asim wins, it will not be an achievement because Isamu is incompetent. If Isamu wins, it will only be because he gained immense powers from nowhere. Victory through brute force given as a birthright is not impressive to me.


    "In either event, nothing has been achieved by either party. So I have no interest in the outcome." That was harsh. Not untrue, Belosh had always regarded Isamu more as a battering ram than a warrior. But it seemed impolite to say as much openly.


    "...What if one of them kills the other?" asked Narcissa.


    "Well, that would present a problem, wouldn''t it?" asked Sahshir, looking to where Asim and Isamu had halted. "Fortunately, Asim seems as bored by this conflict as I am."


    Asim halted and then was forced to withdraw beneath a flurry of strikes by Isamu. Catching a blade in a final blow, the air around them seemed to warp beneath their onslaught. Suddenly, Asim separated and landed on one knee. Struggling to stand, Isamu surged at him for a killing blow.


    But Asim rolled away and sheathed his sword at the very same moment.


    "I forfeit," said Asim, blood running down his brow.


    "What?" said Isamu, voice furious.


    "I said I forfeit," said Asim, sheathing his blade. "You win."


    "You... you can''t forfeit!" said Isamu. "We''re not done!"


    "I just did," said Asim. "I have been given orders from my King, and I obey them to the letter."


    "Orders?" asked Isamu. "What are you talking about?"


    "I ordered Asim that if he believed the match would end in death, he should forfeit," said Sahshir. "Both are valuable assets, and I do not mean to waste either."


    "And he obeyed?" asked Belosh, surprised. Asim was well known as one of the most proud and vicious men. For pride''s sake, he''d gotten thousands killed in a pointless war.


    "My subjects heed my orders because they respect me and are loyal to my cause," said Sahshir.


    Yes, those who supported Asim could simply say he did it because he saw the match would end with death. That Asim should have been the one whose head was lying on the ground was a detail they''d forget. Sahshir was far more intelligent than his uncle and a better warrior.


    "You..." Isamu said as Asim walked away. "Get back here, you bastard! You don''t get to walk away from me after what you did!" Kushina and Sahshir stood and made their way out into the arena. Belosh rose and walked with them, somewhat behind.


    "Yes, I do," said Asim as he walked away. "Denying the enemy the honor of a battle can be just as great a revenge as engaging them directly. Perhaps even greater. You aren''t worth fighting any further."


    Isamu raised his sword and would have attacked Asim. However, Kushina came between them and caught his hand. "Stay your hand, Isamu. Asim is no longer fighting you."


    "But he..." began Isamu.


    "It''s over, Isamu," said Urus, coming forward.


    "It won''t be over!" snarled Isamu. "It won''t be over until I''ve killed him!"


    "Well, you''ll have to do it another day," said Kushina. Then she spoke aloud. "Isamu, son of Rammas! You have brought glory to Kalthak, both West and East! Now we award you the title of Champion!


    "Bring forth the prizes!"


    Great cheers broke out throughout the crowds by the end of the battle. Belosh was surprised; it had seemed anticlimactic to him. Still, he supposed Asim might have forfeited because he was losing to save face.


    The riches Isamu had won came forward. They were carried by many majestically beautiful slave girls. They wore beautiful garments, and Belosh felt a twinge of jealousy. Sahshir rose and came forward to personally congratulate him. Belosh tuned his listening stone again.


    "The slavegirls are part of the prize," said Kushina simply.


    "I don''t care about money. This was my fight," snapped Isamu.


    "No, it was the crowd''s fight, and you entertained them a great deal," said Sahshir, moving up to him. "If either you or Asim had killed the other, it should have wrecked the spectacle. That would have led to serious consequences."


    "What are you saying?" asked Isamu.


    "Never engage in a battle where you cannot gain victory," said Kushina. "Your goal was to kill Asim, and that was not achievable.


    "Had you not fought to kill, he would not have forfeited. And so you might have humbled him.


    "By seeking too great a goal, you have not gained a lesser one that was achievable."


    "...You''ve thought this through, haven''t you?" snapped Isamu.


    "I have the advantage of having no time to lose at all," said Sahshir. "And so I must use every moment to its fullest, for tomorrow, I may be dead.


    "Enjoy the slaves. You have earned them."


    Belosh knew Isamu would not be enjoying them at all. He hated slavery and cared nothing for money, so all would go to waste. It was a shame. They were gorgeous women.

 Chapter Six: Farewells

    Narcissa looked out over the serene waters of the Sea of Power. She smiled as the wind caught her hair and thought the sun had never looked more beautiful. The water seemed to sparkle in the morning light, and Sahshir seemed more at ease. Winds kept things reasonably cool, and the clouds kept out the glare. He was sitting cross-legged upon the pier, polishing the Sword of Order. His armor had been shed in favor of his black garbs.


    Still, even the day after the tournament, Narcissa was surprised at what had come after. "So, he freed them all?"


    "Yes, and he gave them all an equal split of the treasure he''d won," said Sahshir. "After providing a stipend to Belosh, of course. Other than that, he took only a tiny amount to pay for repairs to his clothes.


    "Isamu is wiser than I expected."


    "Wise?" asked Narcissa. "He gave up a fortune worth of money. That could have been used to do all kinds of things."


    "What is money?" asked Sahshir.


    "It''s how we pay for things," said Narcissa.


    "Yes, but why do we use it for that?" asked Sahshir. "Do ordinary people need pieces of silver in their everyday life? No, food is far more useful, as is water. So why do men obsess over it?"


    "Because you can get all kinds of things with it," said Narcissa, not understanding the point.


    "Exactly," said Sahshir. "It has been declared by mortals to have a value that can be used to purchase goods. And those who own the goods may, in turn, do the same. Before the worshippers of Coinfurth forged money, men used to barter to get what they needed.


    "But, not all areas had the same resources, nor did they have the same needs for resources. So, a man who needed cloth but only had grain could not necessarily trade grain for cloth. Instead, he would have to trade grain for other commodities that men with cloth needed. Or, failing that, trade grain for some other commodity. One those who had what men with cloth needed."


    "Complex," said Narcissa, sitting beside him and putting a hand on his shoulder.


    "Drastically so," said Sahshir, gazing at the ships. There were four of them, the swiftest vessels even now being loaded. Men and servants were there, and further down was Belosh''s ship. It was a far grander affair, with much decoration and a fleet.


    Sahshir had said he didn''t mind being overshadowed openly. It was only his actions that would define how he was treated. Even now, were being loaded for their journey. "Which is why money provides an out. It becomes so by declaring that rare resources, which can be anything, are valuable. Silver or seashells, so long as we believe it has value, you have a universal good. Thus, the man can sell his grain, then use the money he gains there to gain cloth."


    Narcissa removed her hand and sighed. Her thoughts turned to Sen Kaba and the gruesome second Sornian War. "You''ve been studying a lot about Sorn, haven''t you? I''m surprised; I thought you hated Sornians."


    "I thought to research Sorn, a society of merchants, to better understand that part of my kingdom. I have come to appreciate the value of all classes in my time as King," said Sahshir. He finished polishing the blade and sheathed it. "It is my responsibility as King to ensure the well-being of my kingdom in all ways."


    "Well, why does it raise your opinion of Isamu?" asked Narcissa. Sahshir had seemed to hold the man in contempt before now.


    "Because some men obsess over money," said Sahshir. "They forget that it has no inherent value beyond what is given to it by people. Gaining it becomes their life, and they become prisoners to wealth, even if they don''t have any of it."


    "I think Isamu could have made better use of it," said Narcissa. "He could have raised armies. Or built hospitals. Or he could have given it all to King Belosh to improve the kingdom.


    "Instead, he just handed it over to random strangers."


    "Perhaps, but he has gained goodwill for his heroic spirit," said Sahshir. "Certainly, those girls'' families will forever sing his praises. A reputation for benevolence may do much for a man, especially if he falls far.


    "Isamu lives and dies by the sword. Vast wealth would only be of use to him for luxury, debauchery, or leaving his present life beyond.


    "Throwing it away to liberate others has a certain feral wisdom. He knows enough to know wealth isn''t everything. More than most men know."


    Narcissa looked at the ship as the sun came fully over the horizon. The twilight of the early morning passed, and now that full day was coming. And the ships were nearly boarded.


    "...Are you sure about this, Sahshir? Going on this trip?" She''d known that the desire for a wife had meant a lot to him, but this seemed extreme.


    "Yes," said Sahshir. "Not for Oresa; however, her value would be only as a means to ensure my alliance with Western Kalthak. The girl herself means nothing to me beyond what she can do to shore up relations."


    "She is very beautiful, though," said Narcissa. Her people didn''t discriminate between genders.


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    "I hadn''t noticed," said Sahshir. "I''ve never liked women in that way."


    Narcissa shifted and looked at him. "You mean you''re..."


    "Yes, does it matter?" snapped Sahshir quickly.


    Calisha, in general, despised homosexuality. It was considered a mental illness, though there were no outright persecutions. If it came out that Sahshir was homosexual, it could be a severe blow to his image. Prince Baelgost might have been the same, but he was Prince Baelgost.


    "No," said Narcissa after a moment. She wouldn''t be mentioning this to anyone.


    "Then why should I obsess over it?" asked Sahshir. "Am I defined by how the meaningless shell of flesh I inhabit operates? Or am I a pure spirit, for whom such things are but an inconvenience?"


    "Zigildrazia teaches us that the body is the source of individuality," said Narcissa. "That one should embrace who they are."


    "Zigildrazia is wrong," replied Sahshir simply.


    Narcissa smiled. "A typical answer. You don''t see shades of gray, do you, Sahshir?" sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Shades of gray are nothing more than an excuse for moral ignorance," said Sahshir. "Men may choose to serve good or evil. Some serve one to a lesser extent but are ultimately one or the other."


    "By that standard, why not kill all the evil people?" asked Narcissa.


    "I am not such a fool as to believe I am capable of knowing as much," admitted Sahshir. "Baltoth has chosen to tolerate the existence of the wicked in this world. Who am I to question his choice?"


    "But isn''t Baltoth trying to kill or convert them?" asked Narcissa.


    "That is a somewhat complex question to answer," said Sahshir. "There are two different manifestations of Baltoth. There is the God of Order, who resides within Ruscow. This Baltoth can be thwarted and defeated.


    "However, the God of Order is a flawed avatar of the true Baltoth, who resides beyond this universe. That God is all-powerful, and nothing is beyond his sight or scope."


    Narcissa found this to need clarification. "Then why are there people fighting Baltoth at all? Couldn''t he just destroy them all?"


    "It may be that by allowing us to fight amongst one another, Baltoth will bring more to a greater being," said Sahshir. "Or it may amuse him to make war upon those who would oppose him with self-imposed limitations. The answer does not matter.


    "We were made by and for him; he may do with us as he wishes. For he is the one who defines both right and wrong. We may submit to him or submit to total oblivion of the spirit."


    Narcissa only thought a little of this answer. Zigildrazia taught her faithful that they were all extensions of herself. Right and wrong did not enter the matter, and Narcissa did not see why it needed to. "That seems like a very elaborate explanation," said Narcissa. "Wouldn''t it be simpler to admit Baltoth is a flawed god, striving for still greater power?"


    "Simplicity does not always mean truth," replied Sahshir. "Moral laws exist; for them to exist, there must be a moral lawgiver. Such an entity as the Greater Baltoth must exist. You must have noticed that even among Zigilus, you hold the same basic morality at your core.


    "Yes, Zigildrazia has twisted it, but she cannot fully drive the good from your people. She can only distort and mar it."


    "And what makes you think Baltoth is the avatar of this greater being?" asked Narcissa. "Maybe it''s Zigildrazia or Typhos."


    "They exist in defiance of the universe," replied Sahshir. "While Baltoth reigns supreme."


    They waited there on that pier for what seemed like an eternity. Sahshir seemed unusually somber as he gazed at the sun''s light on the water. Narcissa did not really know what to say, but eventually, that time came to an end.


    Sushaki came forward from behind, clad in red armor. His fair features were the same as ever, and his hair was longer.


    Sahshir said nothing at first, as if he did not notice him. Narcissa wondered if Sushaki had ever really been Sahshir''s friend at all. Sahshir had mentioned they had been friends many times, but nothing showed it. Sushaki seemed loyal, but Sahshir regarded him as only subordinate.


    "What is it, Sushaki?" asked Sahshir, voice cold.


    "The ship is loaded, King Sahshir," said Sushaki. "And everything has been set in place for your absence. Should you not return-"


    "I entrust the defense of Kalthak to Asim and you, of course," said Sahshir, rising to his feet. He put his hand to the Sword of Order. "You must ensure our independence, should the need arise. We shall not become an extension of West Kalthak, whatever Tuor and Belosh scheme."


    "I understand," said Sushaki.


    Sahshir nodded to Narcissa and began to walk toward the ships on other piers. As he did, Narcissa shifted. Suddenly, she did not want him to leave. "Are you sure you don''t want me to accompany you, Sahshir? I could help you on the journey."


    "I am certain you could," said Sahshir. "You are among the best of my subordinates.


    "However, I need you here to rule over your people. Alkela will more than suffice for our purposes. And having her absent will help in purifying the more barbaric traditions."


    Sahshir was a sea of contradictions. He''d never been anything but respectful to Narcissa. Even as he regarded her culture as mere barbarism. Yet he had saved her people, led them here to salvation. Without him, the legions of Dinis should have killed them all. "Well, what about Isamu and his group?" asked Narcissa. "They''re loyal to West Kalthak; what if they turn on you? We don''t trust Tuor for a reason, why not-"


    Then Sahshir laughed, and it was oddly mirthful as he turned to her. "Narcissa, you don''t need to worry.


    "I do not think I am coming back in any case."


    He said it without resignation or fear; it was a simple statement of some minor fact. As if it wasn''t important."What? What do you mean?"


    "I do not think the Heaven''s Eye will be able to heal me," admitted Sahshir. "And that is only if we reach it at all. The quest itself will be dangerous and may claim our lives."


    "But then why go?" said Narcissa. Why was he so obsessed with these things?


    "Because Baltoth commands I find it," said Sahshir. "The quest lies before us and must be completed.


    "To do otherwise is to betray him."


    "But how do you even know Baltoth wills this?" asked Narcissa. "Maybe Tuor is acting on his own."


    "Baltoth no doubt knows the quest is underway even now. He has eyes everywhere," said Sahshir. "It is well within his power to stop the quest. So, he must mean to integrate it into his plan, assuming it is not his will. As for betrayal, I have set in motion precautions. That is why I sent Nayasha away to Tuor''s dominions. She has her own task to perform.


    "Sushaki, what progress has been made on that front?"


    "The fortifications are well underway, as you requested," said Sushaki, rising. "It will take time, but soon, our coastline will be impenetrable. King Nagos has been helpful in this regard. The Chaminean Architects arrived last week."


    "Good, all is underway then," said Sahshir. "It''s time." He paused for a moment as if searching for something to say. Then, he seemed to remember something. "Narcissa, should I die, there is a box on my desk. This key will open it. What lies within is for your eyes only."


    "Now hold on..." began Narcissa.


    "Goodbye," said Sahshir before walking away.


    Narcissa had had enough; the man was walking to what he believed was certain death, and for what? Moving forward, she barred his path. "Stop! How can you be so calm about this?! If you think you''ll die on the mission, send someone else! You''re too important to me, to Kalthak, to just walk off like this!


    "If you die, everything will collapse! Asim will start going after merchants again; my people and yours will be at war!"


    "No, they won''t," said Sahshir. "The land has changed, and men understand one better now. More to the point, I am dying anyway.


    "Soon, whether I go to Gel Carn or remain, I shall die, and my Kingdom shall pass to another. This is beyond my control if I remain here. If I achieve the Heaven''s Eye, I may be healed and so be able to create a dynasty.


    "If not, you and Kushina must see that my legacy endures."


    "Is your legacy the only thing important to you, Sahshir?" asked Narcissa, and she wanted him to say something. She wasn''t sure what, to declare his friends were the source of his motive, or that he loved her. Anything but his complete absence of self!


    He deserved better than that.


    Sahshir scoffed. "Of course not. But what we leave the world as when we die is all that matters.


    "Goodbye, Narcissa."


    And he was beyond her reach.


    When the ships were gone, and none could see, Narcissa wept.

 Chapter Seven: Defeat

    No one had been hurt in the sparring, so Oresa wasn''t sure what to do. She''d never liked fighting anyway, and that wasn''t her job. She was supposed to protect and heal, which she was good at. Well, healing, really, she wasn''t very good at protecting her friends just yet.


    King Sahshir had spent most of the time on the trip within his quarters. He occasionally spoke to the soldiers or directed them on some task. However, he never had anything to say to her or the others. And that made her wonder why he''d personally requested their presence anyway.


    Urus had suggested several theories. Cadas had said nothing, of course. Isamu wasn''t interested as he parried a thrust from one of the sailors. Oresa crept up toward the door of Sahshir''s cabin. She saw Alkela enter it just before she got to the top and wondered what they were talking about.


    Oresa drew out her Listening Stone, the one Father had given her for her twelfth birthday. Yet she heard nothing at first from within. Of course, Oresa was so stupid; Alkela was using sign language.


    "Again?" asked Sahshir. "The man lives for fighting, it seems. How many men have done well against him?


    "As expected, few. No matter, it is of no concern."


    More sign language.


    "Alkela, I am well aware that Isamu is trying to bait me into dueling him again," said Sahshir. "However, since he is shallow, I shall concern myself with deeper subjects." What deeper subjects? Sahshir had not spoken at all with anyone. Oresa guessed Alkela had given him an answer.


    "I defeated him once before, hoping to shut him up," replied Sahshir. "He just rechallenged me."


    "You could defeat him instead of fighting him," suggested Tuor, who had been silent until now.


    There was silence for a moment.


    "...Excellent point, Tuor," said Sahshir. "Tell me, how many have been injured, Alkela?


    "No one, that''s a surprise."


    Why did King Sahshir seem to hate Isamu so much? He was acting as if he was just a thug. But Isamu would never permanently hurt someone in a spar. He was always careful to avoid doing it. And Oresa was always on hand to heal the bruises.


    Isamu challenged people because he wanted them to become stronger themselves.


    "Has she played any part in the spars?" asked Sahshir.


    She? Who was Sahshir talking about? It couldn''t have been Alkela, but he must have been talking about Oresa.


    "I believe her idea of training is to heal injuries," said Tuor.


    "Well then, I believe I have my target," said Sahshir.


    And then Oresa heard Sahshir coming toward the door. In a panic, she drew up the stone and ran to the lower deck. There, Isamu had stopped sparring. Urus and Cadas were in battle with several of the guards. They were fighting very well, actually. Especially since the Silent Guard had been left behind.


    But why?


    Why had Sahshir left the Silent Guard behind?


    "So, who''s next?" asked Isamu. "Come on, beat Urus or Cadas, and I''ll take you on myself."


    Urus finished parrying a thrust and knocked the man flat with an open palm. At the same time, Cadas threw down his own enemy. Oresa immediately healed them while Isamu stood with his sword at the ready. The guards, meanwhile, seemed to be speaking amongst one another. As if deciding who ought to try next. They''d put forward quite a few of their own.


    "Isamu, we have an audience," said Urus.


    Oresa looked up and saw that, sure enough, Sahshir had emerged. With him were Alkela and Tuor, both of them observing. Isamu looked irritated at their presence. "Abdul, what do you want?"


    Oresa thought Sahshir would flare up at this, yet he did not. He merely looked over Urus, Cadas, and Isamu last. "I''m seeking an opponent to spar against if you must know."


    "Fair enough," said Isamu as Urus and Cadas formed before her. "So, take your pick."


    Sahshir motioned with his steel hand. As he did, Isamu smirked. "Urus looks like you up."


    "I was not pointing to him," replied Sahshir. "Step aside."


    Urus did step aside, and Oresa looked up from her healing to realize Sahshir was pointing at her. She looked behind her and saw no one. Standing up, she backed away.


    "Princess Oresa," said Sahshir simply.


    "What?" said Oresa. "You... you''re challenging me; why?"


    "What are you doing, picking on a girl?" asked Isamu.


    "A girl who is part of your warrior companions. I assume she can fight," said Sahshir.


    "I... yes, I can," said Oresa. "Or, well, I got some pointers from Isamu."


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    "Leave her alone!" snapped Isamu. "If you want a fight so badly, then fight me, you ugly bastard!"


    "Overreacting as always," said Sahshir as his guards set hands to swords. "No one is going to be harmed within it. It is merely a means by which we test our skills against one another. I''ve noticed that Oresa has not participated in any matches, and I''m curious about her abilities."


    "I..." Oresa shifted. She''d been afraid of getting in the way all this time, but it was a legal move. She was one of Isamu''s companions, so beating her was a legitimate move. "Well, I..."


    "Don''t do it, Oresa," said Urus.


    "Why don''t you let her answer for herself," said Sahshir. "Does she not outrank you?"


    "It''s fine, Isamu," said Oresa. "I''ve got to prove myself stronger." It was just a spar, anyway.


    "Then let us begin," said Sahshir, drawing out the Sword of Order. "Alkela, would you take the Sword of Order from me." And he handed it over.


    Tuor, who had moved away while no one was looking, returned. "Sahshir!"


    Sahshir glanced back, and Tuor hurled a blade at him. It spun through the air, and Sahshir caught it. Then, Oresa saw the markings and realized what it was. "A Ghost Blade..."


    "I''m told you broke yours at Zigilus," said Tuor. "I felt I ought to restore one to you."


    "As you wish," said Sahshir, voice odd. "Thank you."


    Then Tuor hurled another such blade at Oresa. She caught it and nearly fell off her feet with the weight. Raising it up, she took such a stance as she could remember. Sahshir took a similar view, and there was no overconfidence there. No anger or condescension, no underestimation.


    Sahshir was treating her as a threat.


    As the guards formed a circle around them, Oresa realized she had miscalculated.


    "Begin," said Tuor.


    Sahshir surged forward, and Oresa saw his blade coming toward her. Acting on reflex, she rolled away in the nick of time. Even as she did, however, she slipped and landed on her knees.


    "Oresa!" said Isamu.


    Oresa knew Sahshir would be doing a killing blow next. Ghost Blades sent people to sleep so he didn''t have to hold back. So, she created a shield around herself as best she could. However, the orange defense was hit and shattered as she stood. She barely ducked in time and felt the wind of his blade go over her head.


    Her sword was struck from her hand and sent spinning away. Turning, she sprinted to grab it but slipped and fell onto her knees. He could have ended it there, but Sahshir waited as she raced across the deck and grabbed it.


    Turning around, Oresa took a stance as best she could.


    "Oresa, forfeit! You''ve got to forfeit!" said Isamu.


    "No, no, I won''t give up! Not this time!" said Oresa, more to herself. Then she raised a shield and moved forward, using the shield to cover her side. However, Sahshir surged forward and leaped over her as she moved forward. He shattered her shield with one blow of his sword, then drew it back. Then, as Oresa turned to parry, he moved around her to remain behind her.


    Oresa turned again, but he backed away. As he did, he caught her blade with his own, made a motion, and disarmed her.


    "That shield is useless against me," said Sahshir. "You are not using your will as you ought to. Alkela, give her my sword." S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Alkela moved forward, the Sword of Order, and handed it to Oresa. As she took it, she felt power flow through her arms. It was as if she was holding a star in her hands, and the light of it made her every move easy.


    "I..." Oresa adjusted the blade in her hands, and as she did, she remembered her old training. She''d been holding the blade wrong; that was why he''d disarmed her so easily.


    Then Isamu stepped forward quickly between them. "Oresa, stand back. Let me handle this guy."


    "That would be illegal," said Sahshir. "The terms set were that I must overcome one of your warriors to face you. Are you going to give me special treatment because I am royalty?"


    "That''s a technicality, and you know it. Oresa is-" began Isamu.


    "Let her speak for herself," said Sahshir. "Does Isamu possess control of Oresa''s will? Is she no more than an automaton to be commanded to stand back?


    "Do you choose to forfeit, or do you not?"


    "I..." Oresa realized why Sahshir had targeted her. He''d observed that the others were always sheltering her because they knew how weak she was. "I..."


    "Your grip on that sword is too tight," said Sahshir, moving forward and sheathing his weapon. "You need to be able to move it." Then he grasped her hands and adjusted them with his own. "Like so."


    "Good," said Sahshir. "Unfortunately, that is not your only failing.


    "You have a weak footing. Your feet are too close together. Without a strong foundation, nothing stands." Setting a hand to her shoulder, he put pressure, and Oresa stumbled back.


    "Leave her alone!" said Isamu. "Or we''ll have our rematch right here and now!"


    "I forfeit," said Oresa quickly.


    There was no more point in wasting anyone else''s time here. She was clearly outmatched, and she gave the blade back. Sahshir took it and sheathed it. Then he acknowledged Isamu. "You need not concern yourself; I was done instructing her anyway."


    "You call that teaching?" asked Isamu.


    "Actually, yes," said Sahshir. "I think she appreciates what it means to be a warrior more now.


    "Still, her failure is not really her fault.


    "It is yours.


    "You have included her in your warrior band purely as a status symbol and nothing else. She is eager to please. Yet you expect nothing from her save for healing your injuries.


    "Her failure is your responsibility, Isamu, because you are her leader. And to be a leader is to be responsible."


    Well, that was, uh... harsh. Very harsh. Not fair either, was it?


    "You could have done far worse," said Sahshir, and then he walked off.


    Oresa didn''t know whether to be furious, depressed, or happy. On the one hand, she''d been utterly defeated, but that was to be expected. And Sahshir didn''t seem to think her weakness was entirely her fault. But that wasn''t fair to Isamu and the others at all.


    Isamu seemed speechless, torn between rage and shock. Urus was speaking to him in private, and Cadas was remaining silent. The guards, meanwhile, seemed in a far better mood. They were acting as though Sahshir had beaten Isamu. Not just merely humiliating the weakest member of his group. Well, it looked that way.


    Sahshir had made it look like Isamu was a bad leader, but that wasn''t true. Oresa looked to where Sahshir had gone to the front of the ship with Tuor. She raised her listening stone, a gift from her father. It amplified sounds and brought them to her.


    "You''ve grown, Sahshir," said Tuor.


    "Hmm?" asked Sahshir.


    "You have become powerful in your own way," said Tuor.


    "I had many teachers of great quality," said Sahshir.


    "Myself among them, I hope?" said Tuor, a levity in his voice.


    "You are among them," said Sahshir. "Your training was the root of what created who I am now. For that, I am grateful. Just as I am grateful to Aresh for the years he spent teaching me."


    "And your hostility before?" asked Tuor.


    "Your presumption offended me; however, the matter is now behind us," said Sahshir.


    The two of them fell into silence.


    "Might I inquire about other teachers?" asked Tuor after a moment.


    "Nagos, the King of Chaminus," said Sahshir. "His philosophy has great value."


    Nagos, the King of the Seas? He''d become a legend in Western Kalthak. Oresa had heard all kinds of stories of his adventures. Once, he''d even slipped into the palace, and no one had even known it was him until after he introduced himself. Oresa remembered he''d seemed very kind.


    "Would you share it?" asked Tuor.


    "Nagos believes in dealing with the moment. He says that one should only concern yourself with what you can affect," said Sahshir.


    "A valuable mindset. But to move without consideration to the future is dangerous," said Tuor.


    "No philosophy is perfect," said Sahshir. "But it was Nagos'' stance on revenge that fascinated me. When the Emperor of Dinis harmed Nagos, he did not seek to hurt him. Instead, he gave him advice, leading to him dying gloriously and securing his legacy. He also convinced him to heal the injury he had done."


    "An interesting concept," said Tuor. "Perhaps a wise policy, but I do not see how it counts as vengeance."


    "One is only who they are now, in Nagos'' mind," said Sahshir. "If Octavus had gained glory and become a just Emperor, he would not be the same man. When he died saving his fleet, the spoiled Prince who Octavus had been was destroyed. He ceased to be the wealthy parasite and became one worthy of his rank.


    "So, from a certain perspective, Nagos killed his enemy."


    "I''ve found that kunai is a much more efficient means of vengeance," laughed Tuor. "Still, do you mean to say that Aresh and I are different people?"


    "You are not my father," said Sahshir flatly. "You inherited his responsibilities and powers, but you are not him. You will be disappointed if you wish for me to obey you as a son.


    "But, as a teacher and valuable ally, I will acknowledge you as much."


    Tuor remained silent for a long time. "...Thank you, Sahshir."


    Oresa had come to a decision. She needed to get stronger to help Isamu and the others. And she required training from someone outside of the group to do it. Isamu always treated her as something of protection.


    Well, she needed Sahshir''s help.

 Chapter Eight: The Paradox of Power

    Oresa spent the next day trying to work up the courage to ask.


    During this time, Isamu did not spar nearly as much. Instead, he spent his time speaking with Urus and Cadas about something. She wasn''t sure what, but she remembered the traitor god Rammas being mentioned.


    Making her way up the stairs to the upper deck, Oresa halted and saw Sahshir speaking with Alkela. The beautiful blonde was leaning against the ship''s railing, her hair let down. Sahshir had his arms crossed. "Alkela, how far are we from Sorn now?"


    Alkela made sign language with her hands. Sahshir shifted and then nodded. "That far, then.


    "I had hoped we were almost there."


    Alkela made other signs. There was a sardonic expression on her face. Sahshir sighed as he read her hands. "Yes, yes. I''m aware that Sorn is a vast way away. I am not saying my wishes were rational."


    Oresa gulped, swallowed her fear, and headed forward toward him. "Excuse me..."


    Sahshir turned around to face her while Alkela shrugged. Sahshir moved forward. "Princess Oresa?"


    "...I, well..." Oresa shifted from foot to foot. Finally, she bowed with as much humility as she could manage. Don''t screw this up. "Please train me!"


    Alkela shook her head and began to walk away. However, Sahshir looked hard at her, taking what she said thoughtfully. "You wish for me to train you? Why?"


    "I..." Oresa paused. "I''ve been trying to be of use to Isamu all this time, but no matter what I do is, drag him down. Everyone tolerates me, and all I can do is heal their cuts. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I need to become stronger for-"


    "I can''t train you," said Sahshir, cutting her off.


    "What?" said Oresa. "But...


    "But why?"


    "Strength does not come from others," said Sahshir, raising his steel hand. "What you are and what you become is a result of your actions. And to achieve anything, it requires resolve and strength of will."


    "But I am resolved, I-" began Oresa.


    "If Isamu, Urus, and Cadas accepted you as an equal today, would you still want training?" asked Sahshir.


    "What do you mean?" asked Oresa, not understanding what he meant. "They... they do regard me as an equal." They did, didn''t they?


    "And yet they do not trust you to participate even in a spar," said Sahshir. "You disobeyed their desires to even accept the match."


    "Well, yes, but they want to protect me," said Oresa, not seeing where he was going with this.


    "Then they do not regard you as an equal," said Sahshir with a shrug. "One may be superior to another and still have their best interest at heart."


    "Yes, I know," said Oresa, feeling miserable. "Everyone... everyone always has to go out of their way to protect me, but I''m just not any use at all."


    "That is the root of your failure," said Sahshir simply. "You want to become powerful in your own right so that you can stand on an equal footing to Isamu."


    "No, I just want to be useful; I don''t think-" began Oresa.


    "You don''t think you can achieve what you want," surmised Sahshir.


    Oresa considered what he was saying. She thought about herself and her actions. "...No, no, I don''t."


    "And that is why I cannot train you," said Sahshir, looking at the above clouds. A sea breeze blew through their hair. "Victory comes from the will first and foremost. If you do not believe you can win, you are already defeated. Even if you seek to win out of principle, you shall not be able to see the path by which you could win.


    "Any training I might give you would be useless because you would lack the will to use it."


    "But..." Oresa paused, not understanding. What about hubris? "But the others are so much more powerful than me. How could I possibly hope to compare it to you or Isamu? I''m... wouldn''t that be arrogance."


    "Yes, it would," said Sahshir. "Your goal is unattainable at the moment."


    Oresa blinked, not understanding at all. "But you just said-"


    "You cannot hope to become stronger than Isamu or me right now," said Sahshir simply. First, he says she is hopeless, then he says he''ll help her, then he doubles back. "It will take discipline and a great deal of effort. By the time you reach that point, you might not want it anymore.


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    "You have set yourself the impossible goal of comparing to gods in strength. And since you know it is impossible, you do not want to try."


    "But..." said Oresa, beginning to grasp his point. "But then what do I do?"


    "For now?" asked Sahshir, returning to her and adjusting his mask. "You must set an immediate goal that is attainable. In your case, basic competence. Have surpassing Isamu as something you want, but do not make it the sole qualifier of your value.


    "Don''t concern yourself with competing with gods and emperors; you will lose. Focus your efforts on improving and overcoming what challenges you can. Then, you will increase in power and be able to overcome more significant challenges.


    "Then, sooner or later, you may find yourself an equal to him." Did he mean that? Or was he telling her what she wanted to hear like so many others?


    "But..." asked Oresa, looking for something to say. "But what if I drag the others down? All I''m good for healing."


    "If you cannot perform any service to his company that assists him, then you should not be part of it," said Sahshir. Raising a hand, he adjusted the fingers of his steel hand with the other. It was now formed into a fist. "Find some other place to use your services where your skills would have value and be valued."


    "But they''re my family!" said Oresa. "I... I may be a Princess, but I''m the daughter of one of King Belosh''s wives. According to the traditions of Western Kalthak, the King may have many wives. I have dozens of sisters, and well... I was just lost in a crowd.


    "When I trained to be a Priestess of Baltoth, I was deemed unfit, and Kushina effortlessly got the task. The only worthwhile thing I did was heal some people with my ability, and then...


    "Then, I met Isamu. He saved me from bandits, and we traveled together. Urus and Cadas joined us; although they bicker, we belong together.


    "I...


    "I don''t think I could do it."


    "Well, then you know your limitations, and that is a strength Isamu does not have," said Sahshir. He sounded pleased.


    "What?" said Oresa.


    "Isamu was born with immense power, and he has great skill," said Sahshir, glancing at Alkela. "However, he is overconfident and does not learn. He also does not value you, Uryu, or Cadas as he ought to."


    "That''s not true," said Oresa. "Isamu... well, he may be rough around the edges, but he is actually incredibly kind."


    "How?" asked Sahshir.


    "What do you mean?" said Oresa.


    "What has he done that is kind?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, he''s always protecting other people, even when he doesn''t have to," said Oresa. "He hates injustice, always trying to help the less fortunate."


    "So have I," noted Sahshir, voice annoyed.


    "Um... well, yes, you''re a good person too, but Isamu-" said Oresa.


    "I am a void, Oresa," said Sahshir. "My ''friends'' are valued only insofar as they are of emotional value to me. I seek their well-being. But were they to die, it would be like losing a possession. My morality is adopted because I have chosen to live according to the code of Baltoth.


    "Whatever virtues I possess have nothing to do with kindness. How do you know Isamu is different? He could be putting up a pretense."


    "Well, yes, but my mother always said that kindness is an act," said Oresa. "The people of your land, I talked to them, and... they really love you."


    "But I cannot return that feeling," noted Sahshir as a simple statement of fact. "I love nothing, even if I behave in a ''good'' fashion.


    "So, once again, how do you know that Isamu is not the same?"


    "Well, I..." Oresa thought about it and realized Isamu didn''t talk to her much. Did she really know him? Perhaps he didn''t think of her the way she did him. What if he was like Sahshir?


    "Have you considered the possibility that Isamu might regard you as nothing but an object?" asked Sahshir. "A pretty face whose presence adds to his status and lets him take care of injuries? That whatever ''kindness'' he might have for you is a means of feeding his own image as a hero."


    "Isamu isn''t like that at all," said Oresa, feeling the need to defend her friend.


    "But have you considered it?" asked Sahshir.


    Oresa thought about what that would mean and felt awful. What would it be like if Isamu hated or didn''t care about her? "...Well, I am now."


    Alkela facepalmed.


    "Good," said Sahshir, and he nodded. "It means you are not his slave." Then, he drew out the Sword of Order and handed it to her. "Take this. We''re going to train."


    "But you said you couldn''t train me," said Oresa.


    "I couldn''t train who you were," said Sahshir. "Now, I will show you how to wield a sword, among other things. It will take discipline and endless attention.


    "Are you ready?"


    Oresa shifted. "Yes, Master."


    "Good," said Sahshir. "Then let''s begin."


    Oresa had gotten what she wanted, though she felt she''d regret it in a bit.


    And so it began.


    The first thing Sahshir did was help her brush up her stances. Oresa had yet to train with a sword in a long time, and wielding one now was difficult. She spent days refreshed in the basic skills she''d been taught. It was disturbing how much she''d forgotten. Eventually, he began teaching her meditations and how to center herself. Both were difficult for her, and Oresa wasn''t sure it would help.


    She was learning a bit about herself. All Sahshir''s questions did that, but how would learning about herself help?


    Eventually, Isamu started sparring again. One day, Urus climbed the stairs while Oresa practiced with the sword. "Oresa, can I get your help?"


    Oresa looked up in surprise and stood up. "What is it, Urus?"


    "Some of the men were injured in an accident," said Urus. "Some barrels broke loose and hit them. Could we get your help?"


    "I, well, of course-" began Oresa as she stood.


    "You do not need to worry," said Sahshir simply. "I have healers on the ship. You three, go to deal with the matter. Our lessons should not be disturbed."


    "But what if I could help one of them?" asked Oresa.


    "Are any of their injuries serious?" asked Sahshir of Urus.


    "No, not really," admitted Urus. "Your assistance is appreciated."


    "Then you will focus on this, Oresa," said Sahshir. "I sense that my healers have already arrived, anyway."


    Oresa shifted. "But shouldn''t I try to help everyone I can?"


    Sahshir shook his head. "No one person can be everywhere at once. You must focus your efforts on what will achieve your will. Let others handle their own place, for they know it well enough. And if they do not, they must learn." Then he stood up and walked past Urus. "Continue practicing until I return. I must speak with Tuor."


    Oresa really hoped this would actually help. The last attempts at training she''d done had all ended the same way. She doubted Sahshir would let her get away with giving up, though, so she held her tongue.

 Chapter Nine: Arrival

    The journey continued.


    Sahshir spent much of his time strengthing Oresa''s will and her ability to wield power. Her lack of confidence limited her power. There had been progress in this regard. However, Sahshir thought she would be helpful in direct combat sometime soon.


    Still, she could be more valuable in a support role.


    One morning, Sahshir found Tuor standing at the prow of the ship. He was gazing for the distant lands beyond. He turned to where Sahshir was and smiled. "Ah, Sahshir, you''re up at last. How goes your training with the Princess?"


    "Well enough," said Sahshir. "Though she has much room for improvement."


    "Well, in any case," said Tuor, drawing out a sealed case. "The merfolk arrived with a message for you from King Nagos."


    "Thank you," said Sahshir, taking the case.


    Unsealing it, he drew out a sealed scroll. Sure enough, there was the symbol of Namina upon it, a faceless figure with an outstretched hand. Breaking the seal, Sahshir looked at the letter and read aloud;


    "''To Abdul,


    ''It''s been way too long since we were face to face. I''ve been busy with all that''s been going on with the recent truce. Serna and I have had to go to many different islands, rarely staying for more than a week. All kinds of people have needed managing, and finding the people to run things has been hard.


    ''I''ll be glad to see you in Sorn. Carath Magnious has put my household up. Is Narcissa with you? I''d love to see her again? Serna is with me at the moment.


    ''Oh right, and I should tell you that Sen Kaba is here too. We got his ransom, which helped a lot, but he has mostly stayed the same. Though at least he isn''t holding a grudge or is pretending not to. He keeps saying he''s a businessman and isn''t interested in revenge.


    ''Personally, it''s a way to distance himself from what he''s been doing.


    ''Either way, Sorn is nice enough. A lot cleaner than most of the Islands of Power, and everyone here is very polite. However, I don''t think much of their ideology. They are very big on something they call Social Suvvesianism. The basic idea is that the rich are rich because of natural superiority. Meanwhile, the poor are doomed to be destroyed by some natural process.


    ''Ignoring the fact that poor people have more children than the rich, of course. Going by this ideology, doing nothing to help the less fortunate is an act of charity. But at least they aren''t killing them. They leave that to the workhouses.


    ''Anyway, I''m running out of pages, so I''ll finish up. Sen has some projects he is working on, which I''m not allowed to discuss in letters. You might be interested in it. The basic goal is to save the world. I know you feel saving the world isn''t worth it if we give up our souls. But some of the stuff he''s done here is really impressive.


    ''-Your friend,


    ''Nagos.


    ''P.S:


    ''Whatever you do, don''t trust anybody here. They''re all very nice people, but I expect most would knife you for a few silvers if it was convenient.''"


    Sahshir couldn''t help himself and laughed. As he did, Tuor seemed taken aback. "What is it?"


    Yes, he had, though Tuor had forgotten. "I can never read Nagos," said Sahshir. "The man is either two-faced or a god in human form."


    "It''s possible," mused Tuor."Vacant domains of power are eventually filled. The Domain of Friendship has been without a god for some time."


    "You think Nagos is the new one?" asked Sahshir, not taking the comment seriously.


    "I think nothing," said Tuor, shaking his head. "One should never make a judgment until you have had a chance to examine the situation. Unless, of course, time demands you make one without any prompting, then it is better to act on your best guess."


    "What do you think of Sorn, Tuor?" asked Sahshir, deciding to get his view on the subject.


    Tuor paused. "I believe they place too much emphasis on money. Otherwise, they have a society worthy of aspiration."


    "In what way?" asked Sahshir, who had disliked Sorn since having to fight them.


    "Those too weak to thrive are used until they are destroyed," said Tuor. "No noble titles are required to gain power; one needs only possess the will and ability to gain it. Far superior to the divine right wielded by their Harlenorian ancestors. Without a class system, one may rise freely."


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    "And what of those who cannot rise?" asked Sahshir.


    "The weak, if they do not grow stronger, should be purged, lest they drag down the strong," replied Tuor.


    "Is strength the end goal of all societies?" asked Sahshir, curious as to his answer.


    "Of course," said Tuor.


    "Why?" asked Sahshir.


    "Without it, one would be destroyed," said Tuor. "Civilizations must thrive for power and strength above all else."


    "Even if it compromises moral integrity?" asked Sahshir.


    "Morality in its ultimate form is mere pragmatism," said Tuor, shaking his head. "Pragmatism dictates one act about what one calls virtue. However, it is ultimately merely a subordinate to power, if a powerful one.


    "No Empire may be founded without a moral foundation. But it is simply one more means of control in the end. Other elements are as important."


    "You are wrong, Tuor," said Sahshir. "The only purpose for virtue is virtue itself. Strength is but one of the rewards inherent to virtue. A society that disregards what is right for the sake of power shall only weaken itself. Meanwhile, a society that remains virtuous shall have power.


    "As such, all things must be arrayed to create men who strive to do what is right. Then the rest will follow naturally."


    "A somewhat naive perspective," mused Tuor. "Harlenor was such a place under Anoa the Bright. While Baltoth rules through fear as much as ideology."


    "Is Harlenor, not His greatest rival?" asked Sahshir.


    Tuor said nothing for a long moment. He seemed to contemplate inner doubt, and Sahshir wondered what it was. "Officially, yes," said Tuor at last. "But he is more concerned for threats from within. Nations and ideologies are but illusions. An illusion can be a powerful asset, but ultimately, all men seek power over others. Some do it by making pretensions to benevolence. Others ignore the rules that have been set in place.


    "By your own admission, you seek to live a virtuous life because you seek to follow a code. Not because you feel an obligation to others. You follow the code of Baltoth because religion was a rock of stability in a chaotic time. I am not condemning your use of religion; it has made you powerful." Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Then I shall act as though the illusion was real," replied Sahshir. "For a world where such an illusion was not heeded would be a hell."


    "And there you see the paradox that all-powerful men must come to understand," said Tuor, "if they are to remain so.


    "Still, it is of no further consequence.


    "Once we have arrived in Sorn and the negotiations are underway, we will slip away. The Revenant''s pass will be watched, but there are other ways through. I know of a passage through the Ghost Mountains that leads straight to Southern Harlenor. Only a few know of it, and those that do stand in terror of it.


    "If fortune favors us, we may well reach Gel Carn undetected. For it is mostly empty lands beyond the road, we will take."


    "And what is the catch?" asked Sahshir.


    Tuor smiled fondly. "It is the Road of Ancient Stone that we will be taking. There are realms of horror in that place that few could stand to walk.


    "But our company is not most men.


    "So, it is within our means."


    "I will not leave Sorn until negotiations have been finished," said Sahshir.


    "A wise decision, we will need to use Sorn as our escape," said Tuor. "Were the war to erupt again, we could face serious problems."


    A man approached Sahshir and saluted. "King Sahshir."


    Sahshir turned to him. "Yes?"


    "We have arrived," said the man.


    Sahshir looked at the sight of Sorn''s mainland. It was mostly green but of a drabber, less pleasant than the Islands of Power. Heavy clouds of rain hung overhead, and there were many cliffs. Along the shore were numerous huge stones raised with symbols carved into them.


    "What is that there on the cliffs," asked Sahshir.


    "The runes of Coinfurth," said Tuor. "Sorn is a land with many wars with the merfolk and lizardfolk. Sen Kaba has erected many runes at his own expense, meant to repulse all races of that kind."


    Just looking at them as they drew nearer hurt the eyes. Even when Sahshir looked away from it, the stones seemed to exude hostility. He suddenly wanted to return home and focus on anything else, but the feeling passed. Turning, he saw Isamu''s group rise for the morning. As they did, Cadas suddenly clutched his forehead and cried.


    "Cadas, what''s wrong?" asked Oresa.


    "My head, I.... I can''t think..." said Cadas.


    Tuor moved swiftly by him and kneeled. "One moment."


    Drawing out what seemed a necklace, he set it around Cadas'' neck. As he did, the huge man rose, rubbing his forehead. The pain seemed to have passed.


    "What did you do?" asked Isamu.


    "A minor charm to defend him," said Tuor. "It appears that Cadas has the bloodlines of some of the people of the Islands of Power. They were among those the runes were meant to repulse. I''m told the slaves are in agony until they reach the shoreline."


    "So does this mean they can''t be invaded?" asked Urus.


    "No, the power of the runes is dispersed the more wills set against it," said Tuor. "A truly vast army could bypass it with little ill effect. However, small raids to seize slaves or feast on villagers would be made far more difficult by this."


    Soon, they came into a cove and saw Suvera.


    Sahshir had heard of the Golden City of Suvera. A place where precious metals coated the roof and jewels were used as cobblestones. Sahshir had taken none of these very seriously, but it seemed there was a grain of truth. There were many vast and ornate buildings, and many taller ones were plated with gold.


    All of them were in the center, of course. Suvera was built so that the structures got taller the closer you got to the great temple. Since the great temple, with all its spires, was dead center in the city, it resembled almost a pyramid.


    There was also a magnificent sea wall that they''d had to pass through to get into the harbor. As they neared the pier, Sahshir stepped down first. His companions followed, and they saw a group waiting for them at the base. He''d hoped to be greeted by Nagos.


    He''d gotten Sen Kaba instead.


    Kaba had cut his hair shorter in the time since his month-long imprisonment. He was slightly more gaunt, but his eyes were the same steel. Though Sahshir did notice that his spirit did not seem so decayed as last time, he bowed cordially. "King Sahshir of Kalthak, we have awaited your arrival."


    "Sen Kaba, I was not expecting you to meet me on the docks," said Sahshir. "Or at all."


    "I am a businessman, not a knight," replied Kaba. "I do not hold grudges. And we need to cooperate."


    And then the halfling arrived.


    He was clad in a fine red waistcoat and held a black walking stick. He moved up, flanked by guards, and hurried up to Sahshir. "Oh, damn, late as usual.


    "You have my sincerest apologies, King Sahshir; business demands rarely wait for men. Sometimes, they get in the way of courtesy." Then he noticed Sen and his eyes hardened. "Kaba."


    "Carath," said Sen, and there was real hatred in his eyes.


    "Well, it is a veritable storm of former enemies here today, isn''t it?" asked Carath brightly.


    "Nagos arrived a week or two ahead of you, actually. Very nice fellow, far from the terror of the seas, the stories made him out as."


    "May I ask where he is?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, truth be told, I don''t know," admitted Carath. "He disappeared from his room suddenly. Even his own guards need to find out where he went.


    "But he did leave a note about walking the streets.


    "I don''t know why he''d want to do that. It isn''t safe."


    "King Nagos grew up working for pirates," mused Sahshir. "I expect he knows what he is doing."


    "Yes, he mentioned that," said Carath. "Actually, I had taken all the stories told of him to be a mere poetic exaggeration. But the man seems to hold a certain flair that speaks of practical experience. More than I have anyway." Carath laughed at that. "Well, if there is nothing else, we''ve prepared apartments for your company if you''ll come with me."


    Well, there was a somewhat tolerable company here. However, Sahshir was not going to dismiss Nagos'' warning.

 Chapter Ten: Reunited

    The House of Carath Magnious was a magnificent one.


    Unlike some of the others, there was genuine artistic integrity. In place of gold and jewels, there were marble statues and portraits. Most of them were of halflings, though a few were sculpted of notable humans. In particular, there was one to Suvvest the Great, which Carath kept in an out-of-the-way shrine.


    Suvvest was portrayed as a tall man clad in fine clothes. He wore a steel helmet with a fin and motioned toward the distance. At his side was a sword, and in his hand was a book. At his feet were riches, left as offerings.


    However, when Oresa had wanted to see it, Carath seemed more than a little reluctant. It seemed that Suvvest was a man held in high honor but not particularly liked. Sahshir found this to be a perplexing approach, to say the least.


    "Why would you make a statue of a hero if you hold him in contempt?" asked Sahshir.


    "It''s all about appearances," said Carath. "Presenting a united front to all men and such. Still, I shouldn''t say I hold Suvvest in contempt. I merely wouldn''t want to live anywhere near him."


    "Then surely he isn''t a hero at all," said Oresa.


    "Well, there are two kinds of heroes," said Carath. "The kind you admire because you want to be like them. And the kind you admire because you want to be them.


    "Suvvest was, in his time, the richest, most powerful man in Sorn. He created his empire largely to satisfy his own ego. Most ambitious men achieve greatness through the pursuit of desires. It gives them an excuse to do nothing for the society they live in."


    "And you don''t?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, I''m not what you call an ambitious man," said Carath. "I was born into a role prepared for me. Most of what I''ve been doing is keeping and consolidating the gains my Father, Caris, passed down to me.


    "Frankly, I should have moved to a nice manor in Antion years ago, if doing so wouldn''t hurt those I employ. Unattended business interests don''t last long in Sorn."


    At that moment, an old servant entered. "Master Carath, the meal is prepared."


    "Ah, yes, thank you, Maris," said Carath. "Come, let''s not put my servant''s efforts to waste. They are some very talented people."


    And so they went.


    The servants spoke politely to them, and Carath treated them respectfully. Sahshir marked this in Carath''s favor, though he rarely said so kindly. Men ought to perform their duty without complaint or reward.


    Now, however, they were eating a lovely meal. The sauces here looked different, though Sahshir would not know. Oresa and Carath were eating a satisfying meal. Sahshir was waiting until he could sit in private.


    "Do you require anything, food or wine?" asked Carath.


    "Calishans do not drink wine," said Sahshir. "Baltoth has forbidden it."


    "Ah, of course, my apologies," said Carath. "Though I imagine the Goddess of Revelry has a few objections."


    "I gather that Baltoth despises her," said Sahshir. "So it is of no concern. Tell me, is Nagos staying here?" S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Ah, yes, nice fellow. I''m afraid he''s not here now," said Carath, having a servant pour him more coffee. "At any rate, Princess Oresa, I have set aside a wing where you and your entourage may stay. Likewise, I have the same for you, King Sahshir."


    "And what of Tuor?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Carath. "I had made the offer to him. However, he declined. He has some business with Kaba and means to stay at his residence for all the hospitality he will get.


    "I expect they have some business together.


    "I don''t think he regarded me as his sort, to be honest. Sen often houses foreigners."


    "What could the two want to speak about?" asked Oresa.


    "Concern yourself with others only insofar as they affect your actions," said Sahshir. "Whether you acted rightly or wrongly is the standard by which you will be judged."


    "I might know a thing or two about that, actually," said Carath. "Sen has been communicating with various sources in Eastern Kalthak for some years. He''s become quite interested in your nation.


    "Not to speak for him, but I expect the man is holding more of a grudge than he lets on.


    "He lives to satiate his ego; it''s why I cordially dislike the man." There was real hatred in that tone, however, though well hidden.


    "You sound like it''s more than cordial," said Sahshir.


    "Well, one should never have a relationship that isn''t cordial," said Carath with a shrug. "If you must put a knife in someone, best to do it for impersonal reasons. Don''t do it and let one of their other enemies buy a knife from you.


    "But this all looks pretty unpleasant.


    "It was a remarkable bit of generaling that setup back on McShore. Splendid heroics, certainly worthy of being written down."


    "I merely acted as duty demanded I do," said Sahshir. "If that is an achievement, it is only because men fail more than they should. Do you know what arrangements King Belosh made for himself?"


    "I''m told he will be staying with House Suvvest," said Carath. "They are considered to be of a greater sort than us. And the way Belosh has portrayed things, Eastern Kalthak are rebels. Albeit ones who did the not start the revolution which they are continuing."


    "We are not rebels," said Sahshir.


    "In terms of sheer wealth," said Carath. "House Suvvest and West Kalthak have a fairly tidy trade agreement when there isn''t a war on."


    "Then why is Nagos staying with you?" asked Oresa. "I mean, no offense, but well-"


    "It''s no trouble," said Carath. "The question had also occurred to me when he made the arrangements. It turns out a cannonball took off Yugos Suvvest''s arm in battle. Yugos was the head of the family, so, needless to say, he''s not at all pleased with the peace.


    "Nagos decided he''d rather not risk the man''s hospitality.


    "Still, House Suvvest is fading in power these days, anyway. Their primary stronghold is the Church of Coinfurth. The sooner someone breaks their power, the better everyone will be off."


    "Then they are religious?" said Oresa. "I''d love to learn a bit about Coinfurth from them?"


    "...Well, they embrace our lord''s work with enthusiasm, I suppose," said Carath after a moment.


    "Meaning they seek money, but not for Coinfurth?" guessed Sahshir.


    "More or less," said Carath. "Coinfurth has some unique concepts of faith and is purely concerned with results. If you want to speak of theology, you''re best off speaking with the Knights of the Coin. Would you care for some coffee, Princess?"


    "Yes, please!" said Oresa.


    Carath looked at Sahshir with worry. "And is there anything you would prefer to eat instead? You have not touched your food or drink?"


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    "I''m afraid that I''m not in the habit of eating at banquets," said Sahshir. "A disease has disfigured my body, and it is unpleasant to look at."


    "Ah, yes, well, I''ll have some sent up to you later so you can eat in private," said Carath.


    "Thank you," said Sahshir. "I will take the coffee.


    "What have you and Nagos been discussing?"


    Carath sat back in his seat. "Well, truth be told, he was asking for a loan."


    "A loan?" asked Oresa.


    "Yes, this messy business on McShore has left the whole place in ruins," said Carath. "A wholly unprofitable venture for all involved. It has to be rebuilt from the ground up. Nagos wants to take loans from several prominent merchants to fund the rebuilding."


    "But why would he do that?" asked Oresa.


    Sahshir opened his mouth to explain, then noticed Carath doing the same. Sahshir waved for him to speak. Carath smiled. "Simple enough, dear girl. So long as he is in debt, he''ll have to pay us off over time. And so long as we have a very real income from the plantations, we''ll have an incentive not to attack. I gather he''s doing the same with several Dinis merchant families."


    "So Nagos means to prevent war by making everyone invest in McShore?" mused Sahshir.


    "Yes, rather brilliant," said Carath. "Few men will be willing to destroy a system if it provides a regular income. Of course, all this relies on the island becoming profitable. That may not happen. As a point of fact, the island hasn''t made a profit in decades. Certainly, some individual men got rich, but most planters were heavily in debt.


    "It''s all very complicated, but the bottom line is that the system would have collapsed. It was only a question of who they''d take with them. You saved us a great deal of trouble by keeping us out of McShore.


    "I doubt the soldiers we killed would say the same," noted Sahshir.


    Carath went grim. "No, I suppose not.


    "The whole system is dreadfully unfair, to be honest. It is all about exploitation and loopholes these days. I had to learn all that in the days of my grandfather, Cirithil Magnious." He motioned to the hearth. "They''re on the wall over there."


    Sahshir saw two pictures of the man, who looked like an older version of Carath. "What happened?"


    "Well, Grandfather and Father were an old breed," said Carath. "All about honoring contracts in spirit and law. Father was too much of an old breed since he got cheated several times. I had to become rather ruthless at times to reclaim his holdings. That was when the enmity between House Kaba and myself got started.


    "Sen''s father, Andias, cheated Father using legal loopholes to avoid paying his dues. It nearly bankrupted us. And it was far from the worst thing the man ever did, a real brute that one¡ªmurder, extortion, brutality.


    "Some say he even kept the company of vampires. He''d often purchase slaves and ship them off, but nobody saw them again.


    "King Andoa keeps the vampires of House De Chevlon in line now; there are arrangements, you see. They pay people to let them drink from them, much as you or I might purchase food at the market. Or they use slaves.


    "But vampires get a certain thrill from completely draining some people. Some of the really evil ones have purchased slaves to drain completely. That''s where Andias'' slaves were going. Especially since he tended to pick attractive slaves.


    "He almost deserved what Sen did to him."


    "And what was that?" asked Sahshir.


    "Sen had his father declared insane and used it to seize control of his fortune," said Carath.


    "Andias was confined to a dark room and starved to death inside. Sen didn''t even bother with a funeral; he just threw his corpse in a ditch and left it at that. It was an unpopular choice, to say the least.


    "In his defense, Andias was the worst person imaginable. He started out only the ordinary sort of bad. But then he got a little worse every day, so he eventually became a veritable devil. He regularly beat his wife, and his servants lived in constant terror of him. He broke the leg of Sen''s younger brother at one point.


    "Although he was always very kind to his dog, there was probably some good in him. Of course, Sen killed the dog in front of him, which I think was going too far. But I digress. Anyway, Andias only got really bad when he started purchasing artifacts to do with the Fish King. That and Amysta, as well as several other demonic powers."


    "The Fish King?" asked Oresa. "You mean the God of the Unknown?"


    "Yes," said Carath. "The Fish King was where he put most of his efforts. Andias had been calling in scholars to try to translate the Fish King''s texts. Men kept being driven mad and killing themselves or hurting others. When they stopped agreeing to take Andias'' money, Andias started blackmailing them.


    "Then there were a series of murders that went through the city at that time. Nobody could prove anything. After Andias hung from a rope, they stopped. Coincidentally, Sen had several of his father''s men convicted on minor charges and hung.


    "Really, it did the whole city a favor.


    "Sen is not a charming company. But he''s far preferable to Andias. It''s why he''s been able to get away with so much. Or at least we believed so, though the recent fiasco with the Knights of the Coin-


    "Ah, Garrick, you''re here! What news!"


    Sahshir flinched and turned to see Garrick Estov walking out of the shadows. The gray-skinned warrior always had his man-sized sword on him, though he set it by the door. Moving forward, he bowed. "King Sahshir, it has been some time."


    "Yes, I observed your attempt on Kaba''s life," said Sahshir. "Good work."


    "Thank you," said Garrick. "Carath, I have gotten Finn and the others into the Headquarters. The Knights of the Coin are prepared if anyone comes after us."


    "Excellent, we should be prepared when things come about," said Carath. "Are you going to investigate now?"


    "Tomorrow," said Garrick. "There are several matters here to attend to."


    "Investigate what?" asked Oresa.


    "Several inconsistencies in the Church''s numbers," said Garrick. "Traditionally, this kind of thing falls to the Knights of the Coin. Or it did until House Suvvest took control of the Church. We''ve been somewhat sidelined now.


    "The wars we fought reduced our numbers. We were unable to perform all our duties. So it became necessary to have others begin analyzing numbers."


    Sahshir suddenly had the feeling that something was happening here. And he needed to speak to Nagos about it quickly. Carath and Garrick could not be relied upon as impartial witnesses. Also, he was sick of watching other people eat. "This is fascinating, Lord Carath; however, I need to speak to Nagos about matters. Would you be offended if I went out to seek him?"


    "Not at all; you are old friends," said Carath. "Garrick, lead these fine chaps around the city and see if you can help them find their friend."


    "As you wish, Lord Magnious," said Garrick.


    Soon enough, Garrick and Sahshir were making their way through the streets of Sorn. It was a well-built city, made of white stone in many places. Some areas were well-cleaned, others dirty. Garrick was leading them to a moderately urban area near the sea. The sea was quite beautiful, though the waters here seemed to have a greenish tinge.


    Looking closer, Sahshir saw that the tinge came from a strange light.


    "Why are you seeking Nagos?" asked Garrick suddenly.


    "I am not a man who enjoys socializing," admitted Sahshir. "When I give a command, my servants obey because they know it is given for a reason. And, since you have walked in their company for some time, I thought I might ask you for advice."


    "A wise policy," said Garrick. "Say nothing that could be taken as a promise. Speak at length while saying nothing. Be polite to all and be certain to praise the wealth of those whom you visit. Also, reward the servants generously.


    "Above all, speak little."


    "Why should I pay someone for performing their duty?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    "It allows one to make contacts who can give information later," said Garrick.


    "I reward men who perform their duty beyond expectations," said Sahshir. "Those who do the bare minimum are worthy of the minimum reward."


    "I, um, I feel one ought to be nice to everyone," said Oresa, who had tagged along.


    "Define ''nice,''" said Garrick.


    "Kind, understanding, patient," said Oresa. "Not expect too much."


    "If we do not expect great things from men, they will not achieve great things," replied Sahshir. "Where are you leading us?"


    "To one of the major taverns, one which is pleasant but not of high class," said Garrick. He stopped by such an establishment. It showed an image of an elf singing upon it. "It seems one Nagos would be interested in, given his upbringing."


    "So you don''t know where he is," guessed Sahshir.


    "No, however, if one analyzes what one knows, then one can quickly come to the truth," said Garrick. "If you do not reach the truth, you will be ready to adjust your plans.


    "For instance..."


    He opened the door and marched in. Sure enough, Nagos was sitting at a bar talking with a young woman with pink-dyed hair; what was her name again? She''d been an associate of Nagos during the war. Sahshir reflected she had somewhat strange eyes and decided not to press the matter. As they entered, Nagos looked up and ran toward him. "Hey, Sahshir!"


    Sahshir nodded at them. "Nagos, you are looking well."


    "Yes, well, I''ve been talking with people lately," said Nagos. "Sen has been hiring every person he can get his hands on who is literate. He''s also funded schools to teach children to read and guarantees them a job."


    "What kind of job?" asked Sahshir.


    "Translating books, mostly, from one language to another," said Nagos. "He''s expanded the size of the libraries in Sorn a lot. There are some other projects I probably shouldn''t talk about here," said Nagos. "But a few of them have gone... strange. See that one over there." He motioned.


    Sahshir saw an old man drinking heavily. He looked to Nagos for confirmation. "The old man?"


    "He''s twenty," said Nagos. "The research Kaba has had him doing gets to people. Look closer. Do you see any wrinkles or gray hairs on him?"


    "No," said Sahshir.


    "Right, it''s his spirit that''s gone old," said Nagos. "It happens in people who have seen way too much."


    "Kaba had business with Tuor about something," mused Sahshir. "This may be worth investigating once we have more time."


    "No need for that; I''ll explain the whole thing when we have time," said Nagos. He looked to Oresa and offered her a hand. "Oh, hello, Oresa, it''s been some time?"


    "I am..." Oresa took it. "I''m Princess Oresa of Western Kalthak. You remember me?"


    "Of course I do," said Nagos, "I remember everyone. How did becoming a Priestess of Baltoth go?"


    "Oh, um, not well," said Oresa. "But I ended up as part of a party of adventurers and seeing a lot of interesting places."


    "We ought to return to Lord Magnious'' manor," said Garrick. "We have a great deal to discuss."


    "Yes, you are right," said Sahshir. "Nagos, will you follow us? We should make plans for the negotiations."


    "We probably should, Nagos," said the pink-haired girl. "There are some things we need to discuss. We can''t talk to people all day."


    "Fine, you win, Serna," said Nagos. "This dive was getting old anyway."


    So her name was Serna? Sahshir made a mental note not to forget it again. Well, the group was back together, if nothing else.

 Chapter Eleven: Questioning Authority

    Isamu was in a bad mood.


    Ever since this damn journey had started, things had been one bad event after another. Oresa was spending all her time with Sahshir, and he hadn¡¯t gotten the will to spar with anyone. Now, here he was on guard duty, sitting at the door to the council chamber.


    It annoyed him. Oresa could do what she wanted; of course, Isamu didn¡¯t care how she spent her spare time. But they had been warrior companions for multiple lifetimes. And Sahshir had always been more of a lancer type until now.


    So maybe he did mind how she spent her time.


    Whatever. Isamu¡¯s job as the hero was to punch whoever the reigning tyranny of the week wanted to be punched.


    ¡°So here we are, once again, out in the cold,¡± said Isamu.


    ¡°We are here as guards, not honored guests, Isamu,¡± said Urus, meditating as always. ¡°We ought to expect to be shut out of negotiations.¡±


    ¡°Well then, why is Oresa attending the thing? She¡¯s one of us,¡± noted Isamu.


    ¡°She is a Princess, after all,¡± said Cadas.


    ¡°Yeah, and Sahshir is keeping her on a leash,¡± noted Isamu. The creep had been eyeing her this entire time, and Isamu didn¡¯t like it.


    ¡°She seems to be keeping herself in his company, actually,¡± said Urus.


    ¡°What?¡± said Isamu, surprised. ¡°Why would she do that?¡±


    ¡°Apparently, he is helping her with her training,¡± said Urus.


    ¡°Well, I could do that,¡± said Isamu, annoyed.


    Urus and Cadas looked at him flatly. Isamu shifted beneath their gaze. ¡°What? What are you looking at?¡±


    ¡°One of us probably could have done it,¡± mused Urus. ¡°But we didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°...So what are all these negotiations about?¡± said Isamu, trying to change the subject. Oresa had yet to ask for help. She was best at healing anyway; her shield spells weren¡¯t any good.


    ¡°Several things, actually,¡± said Urus. ¡°The obvious is that it provides a pretense for our mission. But that¡¯s only one of many.


    ¡°The primary purpose is establishing trade rights and how they should operate. King Nagos has been trying to arrange a system of free trade. One where merchants are allowed unrestricted access to any island. No more pirates, and hopefully, no more war.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah, because the pirates are going to just give up raiding like that,¡± said Isamu.


    ¡°Nagos¡¯ plan is a system of tariffs, so far as I can tell,¡± said Urus. ¡°Islands tax merchants for moving through their waters freely. No more piracy or raiding, so long as you pay the fee.¡±


    ¡°If it were that easy, why wouldn¡¯t someone have done it by now?¡± asked Isamu.


    Urus tossed his staff into the air and caught it by the end with one finger. Balancing it, he shifted the quiver of his bow and arrows. ¡°It isn¡¯t that simple.


    ¡°Until now, there have been so many different factions in the Islands of Power. Such an arrangement would have been impossible in previous decades. However, some islands would agree not to raid or pirate others individually. However, recent events have consolidated a great deal of that power. Great powers have the mastery of most of the islands.


    ¡°Sorn controls the south. The High Elves hold the western isles, while the north belongs to Dinis and Calisha. And to the west, many pirate leaders are nominally aligned with Nagos.


    ¡°With power consolidated, those same powers can now work out a deal with some ability to see it arranged.¡±


    ¡°Do you think it¡¯ll work?¡± asked Isamu.


    ¡°I hope so,¡± said Urus. ¡°If Calisha doesn¡¯t have to fight on this front, we¡¯ll have secured all our fronts but the west. We¡¯ll be able to put our full attention on Harlenor and the High Elves. It should make our conquests that much easier.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and we get to miss the entire war,¡± noted Cadas.


    ¡°Well, Oresa will probably be glad about that,¡± said Isamu.


    So they waited. Urus and Cadas played with Sornian cards while Isamu paced back and forth. The guards of King Belosh eyed him warily before he looked right back, and they stopped.


    And eventually, Oresa reemerged. Urus moved forward to meet her, folding his game. ¡°Oresa, you¡¯re back.¡±


    ¡°Oh, hey, Urus,¡± said Oresa. "Isamu, Cadas, how are you?"


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    ¡°We¡¯re pretty much waiting on Tuor at this point,¡± said Isamu.


    ¡°How are things progressing?¡± asked Urus.


    Oresa sighed. ¡°The negotiations are dragging out. Everyone has their own ideas of what is reasonable, but I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll finish things. Sahshir, let me come out here.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re fine,¡± said Isamu, looking at the city.


    He hated this place. East Kalthak was at least mostly wild, and you could see nature. But this place was all stones and walls. No grass or trees at all. And then there were other reasons.


    ¡°Isamu, are you alright?¡± asked Oresa.


    ¡°...This quest doesn¡¯t make any sense,¡± said Isamu.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± asked Oresa.


    ¡°The Heaven¡¯s Eye is Elranor¡¯s relic,¡± said Isamu. ¡°Even if we could get it, and I¡¯m sure Tuor has a plan for that, how would Baltoth use it? It¡¯s not going to do any good.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps it has something to do with the Grail of Immortality?¡± mused Urus.


    ¡°You mean that artifact Sahshir stole from Zigilus?¡± asked Oresa.


    ¡°How are you going to use it with the Heaven¡¯s Eye?¡± asked Isamu flatly.


    Urus paused. ¡°The Reasonists were once responsible for guarding the Grail. That was before Rammas¡¯ rebellion led to it being given to Tuor. We fell under suspicion because he had found us.


    ¡°It allows one to reincarnate eternally with your memories, albeit with a cost. The Heaven¡¯s Eye was documented to have powerful healing abilities. That and immense holy power to save entire armies and people. With both of them, it may be possible to achieve true immortality.


    ¡°If I were to speculate, Baltoth may seek to break the chains of prophecy.¡±


    ¡°What prophecy? What are you talking about?¡± asked Isamu.


    Urus sighed. So this was one of those essential things Isamu was supposed to know about. Whatever, it wasn¡¯t like Isamu needed to be in the know to hit people. Urus was the guy who knew stuff and kept him informed. ¡°There is a prophecy that the Heir of Kings, a descendant of Anoa the Bright, will kill Baltoth and end his reign. That prophecy has dictated our foreign policy against Harlenor for centuries. It has, ever since the assassination of the last King of Harlenor United, Anoa the IX.


    ¡°There were rumors earlier that the Heir of Kings had returned. Rumors have been confirmed.


    ¡°It may be that Tuor intends to remove them in our journey to Gel Carn as well.¡±


    ¡°What are we even doing here, anyway?¡± asked Isamu. ¡°I don¡¯t see why Sahshir needs us?¡±


    ¡°I expect his interest is more in Oresa,¡± said Urus. ¡°Given the healing power of the Heaven¡¯s Eye, Sahshir likely wishes to heal his disease. He would likely wish to ask for her hand in marriage in such a situation.¡±


    ¡°He can¡¯t do that!¡± said Isamu, louder than he should have. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°It is a tradition between Western and Eastern Kalthak,¡± said Urus flatly.


    But Oresa put a hand on Isamu¡¯s shoulder. Her touch was warm, and Isamu wondered why things had never gone beyond this. It''s probably a lack of commitment and interest on his part. Besides, Oresa wasn¡¯t really in love with him anyway. ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry, Isamu. Sahshir doesn¡¯t view me that way.¡±


    ¡°You sure?¡± asked Isamu.


    ¡°Yes, he...¡± began Oresa. ¡°Well, he¡¯s incredibly cold. But he is also dutiful and wants to bring out the best in people.


    ¡°It¡¯s strange, but even if he doesn¡¯t care about people, I believe he is a good person.


    ¡°He¡¯s also incredibly dedicated to Baltoth.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not to their credit,¡± snapped Isamu.


    ¡°Isamu?¡± asked Oresa. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Look, I know we all swear loyalty to Baltoth,¡± said Isamu. ¡°But what has he ever really done for Kalthak beyond taking taxes every year and drafting us for war?¡± He¡¯d seen a lot of drafts over his life. Baelgost loved going to war, but Isamu usually just hunted bandits.


    Mass battles were not his thing. They were too messy, and you couldn¡¯t enjoy the fight.


    ¡°Baltoth saved us from Safara,¡± noted Cadas.


    ¡°And divided our nation up into two while he was at it,¡± noted Isamu. ¡°There didn¡¯t use to be an Eastern Kalthak until he chopped the place up.¡±


    ¡°Isamu, you sound like Rammas,¡± said Urus.


    ¡°So what if I am?¡± asked Isamu. ¡°Rammas rebelled because Baltoth had started forcing his damn laws on us. Crucifixions for every crime limit on marriage. We¡¯re supposed to become poor copies of those damn Medi.


    ¡°Hell, we¡¯re even ruled by Medi now.¡±


    ¡°How can you say that?¡± asked Oresa. ¡°Father is only half Meid. I mean, yes, I know our relations with the Medi haven¡¯t always been perfect, but Baltoth saved us.¡±


    ¡°And now he¡¯s starting her religion all over again in Dinis,¡± said Isamu. ¡°He didn¡¯t stop Safara; he just forced her to work for him. Last I heard, Sahshir put up a temple to her some time ago.


    ¡°The way I see it, Safara is still eating the world. Just on Baltoth¡¯s behalf now.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not fond of Medi myself,¡± admitted Cadas.


    ¡°Cadas!¡± said Oresa.


    ¡°Before they conquered us, they often used us Drens as slave labor,¡± said Cadas. ¡°Valranor, let them subjugate us. Those days are long gone now, but that doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯ve forgotten it. And the Medi don¡¯t think much of us when we meet them.


    ¡°I like King Belosh and your family, but your ancestors adopted our customs.¡±


    ¡°Rammas betrayed Baltoth and tried to overthrow him,¡± said Oresa. ¡°If he¡¯d succeeded, Calisha would have fractured.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that much is true,¡± said Urus. ¡°However, it is undeniable that Rammas had much support during his revolution. One does not gain support unless people have some reason to support him. One cannot inspire armies without a cause, after all.


    ¡°And no one follows a cause they do not believe in.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but it wasn¡¯t the answer,¡± said Oresa. Then, suddenly, she paused. ¡°Urus, would you spar with me?¡±


    Urus blinked. ¡°Are you certain?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I wish to see how my skills have advanced,¡± said Oresa.


    ¡°As you wish,¡± said Urus.


    The spar wasn¡¯t nearly as one-sided as Isamu had expected.


    Urus was still far more powerful, easily controlling the combat. However, Oresa was not nearly as helpless as she¡¯d been against Sahshir. Her shields kept extending the battle, and Isamu quickly lost interest.


    Finally, the battle halted.


    Urus and Oresa bowed to one another as she sheathed her blade. ¡°...I see, so I¡¯m not on your level quite yet. Still, I promise I won¡¯t be such a hindrance in the future.¡±


    ¡°You were never a hindrance, Oresa,¡± said Urus.


    ¡°It¡¯s nice of you to say that, Urus, but I was,¡± said Oresa. ¡°I mean to make sure it never happens again. How did I do?¡±


    ¡°Better than I expected. Your stances are far better,¡± said Urus.


    ¡°Yes!¡± said Oresa, leaping for joy. As she did, her skirts were sent flowing around her as she landed. ¡°Um, I think I¡¯d better get some heavier garments.¡±


    At that moment, Tuor showed up like he usually did. Isamu didn¡¯t like or trust the bastard at all. Sahshir was a cold-hearted bastard, sure. But Isamu couldn¡¯t see him cutting someone¡¯s throat in the dark. Tuor, though, was a different story. Isamu figured the man would cut a dozen children¡¯s throats if he thought it would help him. ¡°That would be wise, Princess Oresa. This land is far colder.¡±


    Isamu had seen Tuor pretending to be friends with Sahshir. He''s probably trying to manipulate him to his own ends. ¡°Tuor, what are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°I am here to meet with Sahshir and also with you,¡± said Tuor. ¡°We have important matters to discuss.¡±


    Great, more fetch quests.

 Chapter Twelve: Meetings

    One meeting ended, and another began.


    Sahshir despised these small details. But he knew well they were necessary for the negotiations. So he spoke, argued, planned, and gradually, an agreement was hammered out. Nagos seemed to dislike the negotiations even more than him. Often, during the discussions, his eyes would drift out to an open window. There, the sea blazed beneath the midday light.


    Thus, that task was left to Sahshir and King Belosh. Belosh proved adept at the financial aspect of things. He had drawn up numerous reports on the value of different islands. Sahshir, meanwhile, seemed to be the only one who cared about the honor of their nations.


    Several times, things had gotten heated. Nagos was able to mediate several heated disputes, fortunately.


    Ironically, it was Yugos Suvvest who presented the most serious problem. The man was bitter and angry. And unlike Sen Kaba, he was unwilling to compromise and kept making demands that had to be reigned in. Nagos'' attempts to placate him were largely a failure. They could only make any progress when Nagos offered to replace his arm.


    Apparently, there were many worshippers of Fortenex in the Islands of Power. Fortenex had the power to create limbs of metal. Even if a man was wounded in spirit so his arm could not be restored, Fortenex could make one of steel. This placated Yugos enough to let everyone else finish the actual business.


    Coincidentally, it also gave an incentive to keep the local populations alive. Which Sen was not happy about. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, that was all necessarily dull," said Belosh, sipping wine. That was in direct violation of the teachings of Baltoth. Sahshir felt his opinion lower. "Now, perhaps we should move on to the more interesting part of this particular story."


    "What story?" asked Yugos flatly, leaning on the table with his one good arm.


    "Sen, I believe you wished to discuss it," said Belosh.


    Sen had his hands clasped before him. "I am translating the Necromancia."


    "What?" said Carath.


    Yugos scoffed in contempt. "Impossible, this is the first time anyone has succeeded in reading the entire book through. Not without going mad. Let alone translating.


    "I made a fortune having my priests tend to the men your Father drove mad."


    "Yeah, I looked at the copy of the stuff once. I had a headache for weeks afterward," said Nagos nervously. "It starts out fairly normal, but the pages get weird as you go further in it. Then it gets really unsettling, and well...


    "Actually, I stopped reading at that point."


    Everyone stared at Nagos.


    "I was given to understand that the Necromancia had only one copy. And that was indestructible," said Belosh.


    "Oh, I was on the ship that got it for House Kaba," said Nagos. "That was a bit of an adventure. Ansif lost two men to that book, and we were attacked by monsters from the depths the whole way. Eventually, we just docked on Antion and walked the rest of the way."


    "I can confirm this," said Sen.


    "...In any case," said Carath. "Not reading the whole thing was a wise decision. The book and all its copies are imbued with the power of the Fish King. They are said to drive mortals mad."


    "Which is why I decided to translate it," said Sen. "If he wants that information hidden, I want to know it. Besides, the Fish King is the God of the Unknown. He crawls beyond the range of conscious space. So it stands to reason that to expand our understanding is to harm him.


    "I dedicated many of my finances to knowing the unknowable. I have already translated large parts of it."


    "And how did you do that?" asked Carath, who''d been silent until now.


    "It was a simple matter of delegation," said Sen. "I trained many people in the dialect of the merfolk. It was part of the schools I set up. From there, I had each of them examine a single page of the document. When a particular page proved too much for them, I divided it and had two people work on it.


    "Once they had translated it, I had them write a page summary.


    "By dividing the horror into manageable chunks, I hope to gain access to the full work. Of course, as our work advances, we''ve had to divide the pages into paragraphs. Still, by allowing my researchers plenty of rest, I can get maximum use from them.


    "We''ve only had forty or fifty suicides in a staff of five hundred."


    "An immense success," said Carath with a tone that said otherwise.


    "My Father''s efforts saw six hundred men dead. The rest were traumatized. All without any meaningful information" said Sen. "My record is a vast improvement.


    "The men knew the risks and were paid extras for taking them.


    "At any rate, with the summary, I devised an element of the Fish King''s plan. Part of it was to convert the savage populations in the Islands of Power gradually. Their bloodlines are particularly susceptible to the taint.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    "Thus, I adopted a policy of organized destruction.


    "By working them to death in plantations, I increased my personal fortune to combat this threat. At the same time, I could decrease possible combatants in the Fish King''s armies. Take away his minions, and you will have weakened the power he gains from worship."


    "A common misconception," said Yugos. "I''m not surprised you made it, Kaba.


    "Gods do not gain power from worship. Worship merely allows them to manifest their power at the behest of their worshipper."


    "I''m certain the gods want us to think that," said Sen, and he eyed Yugos with a murderous gaze. It was returned in kind.


    Sahshir had thought his people would be more violent. But these ''civilized'' men seemed to hate one another far more for their inability to kill directly. He supposed there was a lesson in there somewhere.


    "Both are theories," said Carath quickly. "No need to dwell on which is true; let''s deal with the business at hand."


    Sen and Yugos looked at Carath with a somewhat less murderous gaze and finally relented. Sen shrugged. "For my part, it is irrelevant. Slowing the Fish King''s power is also a valuable accomplishment. However, we can discuss something else.


    "My actions have gotten the Fish King''s attention, and he has stepped up his plans."


    "How?" asked Sahshir.


    "The runes I established deter the Fish King''s bloodlines," said Sen. "However, he''s trying to get back in.


    "Slaves have already bred with better races, even here in Suvera.


    "And I believe some form of the cult may have come about. Several areas were found where ritual sacrifices were set up. Humans killed, their bodies drained of blood."


    "I have heard of these," said Yugos. "However, I took them to be the work of Zigildrazians." He eyed Alkela in contempt at this moment. Alkela, meanwhile, merely gazed back without making a sign.


    Belosh shifted but said nothing. What was he thinking here?


    "You perceived wrong," replied Sen. "Unlike some, I have been monitoring the depths of this world. Powers are shifting and changing, and disaster will follow if action is not taken."


    "How is any of this my problem?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    Sahshir did not particularly like any of these people. Carath seemed about as good as any of them got. However, none of them are considered good people. They were all obsessed with profits and holdings, not those who ran them. And if he did not have to get involved, he''d much prefer not to.


    "If the Fish King awakes, he will destroy the world. Well, unless he is stopped," said Sen. "Anything that weakens him will help."


    "Unless your actions hasten the rate at which he does awaken," noted Sahshir.


    "And even putting that aside, Sen, how are you sure this is making a difference?" asked Nagos.


    "I do not," admitted Sen. "I am striking at the Fish King in whatever way I can as I try to learn more of his power. And the cults that he has in Sorn have become a serious problem.


    "Still, King Sahshir, I believe you could immensely help me here."


    "What do you want me to do?" asked Sahshir.


    "The Sword of Order is a powerful artifact. Tuor has given me the details," said Sen. "It possesses a unique ability. The power to restore the natural order of any element in the world. Winds summoned by spirits will quiet. Curses that have been in effect for years will be soothed."


    "I''d like to hear the details behind that," said Yugos.


    Was he not a priest? He didn''t dress like one, but he clearly held some high position in the temple. Yet the man seemed to know virtually nothing of the divine if he didn''t even know what the Sword of Order did. The blade had played an important role in the war against Sorn, perhaps even spelled their defeat. And the information was on hand, surely.


    Belosh looked at him. "Sahshir, perhaps you could explain things to our friends."


    Sahshir drew the blade slowly and set it across the table. "There are two aspects to this universe, in the end¡ªthe spiritual and the physical. The physical world is easy to see; it is all around us. In the table below us, on the wall. It has certain immutable rules that govern it. Even without the spiritual, those rules function.


    "Then there is the spiritual, gods, demons, angels. They exist in a realm beyond the spiritual that is separate. The spiritual realm uses the physical realm as how battle is conducted. And sometimes, the spiritual realm interferes with the rules of the physical.


    "The Sword of Order can dissipate the magics of other divine entities. It restores the natural order of the world."


    "It will prove to be a counter to the Fish King," said Sen. "As an entity of the unknown, he is no doubt vulnerable to Order."


    "What are you basing that off of?" asked Yugos.


    "If the Order were to gain power over the world, miracles would disappear," said Carath quickly. "The natural order would be restored, rendering this world a mathematical algorithm."


    "Algorithm?" asked Nagos, blinking. Yugos looked at him with contempt.


    "A term in the language of mathematics," said Serna, who had been silent fo some time. "It is a set of actions determined by preset conditions. One that cannot be altered to fit unexpected events.


    "In this metaphor, the spiritual world is an unexpected living event, I would guess."


    Sahshir nodded. "This is true. However, my question remains unanswered. What do you want me to do?"


    "I would ask for your help destroying these cults," said Sen. "In exchange, I can help you with your mission. When you return from your quest into Harlenor, I can provide you an escape and cover."


    It dawned on Sahshir that this place was the precise opposite of Chaminus. Aside from himself and a few others, everyone here hated everyone else. They would gladly put a dagger in all the others. Even the court after Father had left had been alright. Asim had wanted Sahshir dead because he thought he was a failure. How was it possible for any kind of trust to be made in these conditions? Then Sahshir remembered Garrick''s ideology.


    Enlightened self-interest.


    As if the pursuit of the self was the only worthwhile pursuit. Sahshir decided he was done with the charade. Kaba might help, and Sahshir would rather not have the man at his back as an enemy. "Very well then, Kaba. I will assist you in this. But I warn you, this will end in disaster for everyone involved.


    "Throwing down the gauntlet with the gods is not something to be done lightly."


    "The Fish King killed my mother and turned my father into even more of a monster," replied Kaba. "He threw down the gauntlet. And he will regret giving me the chance to pick it up."


    "As long as you accept the risk and responsibility, you can do what you like," said Sahshir. "I will cooperate for the sake of my mission."


    Carath gave Sahshir what might have been an apologetic gaze, and then the door opened. Sahshir looked back and saw a boy with long, messy black hair. "Brother!"


    "What is the meaning of this?" snapped Yugos.


    Sen raised a hand, however. "What is it, Makus?"


    "There''s been another killing," said Makus. "We need help now."


    "Lockdown the site at once," said Sen to the guards. "No one will enter it. We''ll be there as soon as we may." Then he looked to Sahshir. "It seems you''ll have your chance to see firsthand what we face."


    "So it does," said Sahshir. "Alkela, I''ll need you for this."


    "Excuse me," said Serna. "I''m learned in the dialect of the Fish King. I might be of some help here."


    "Then you''re welcome to come," said Sen. "Just don''t get in the way."


    "Wonderful, another interruption," muttered Yugos.


    Then he walked out, and Nagos walked with him and the others. Nagos had his hands in his pockets. He looked to Sahshir and spoke. "You know, I''m getting a bit sick of Sorn."


    "Not here, Nagos," whispered Serna.


    Sahshir shared the opinion but said nothing.

 Chapter Thirteen: Rising Mist

    Alkela looked at the building, surrounded by crowds. She at once knew this was Zigildrazia''s work. The blood painted on the wall was a specific style used by her priests. It was mainly utilized against heretics¡ªusually, people who betrayed her cults.


    Alkela told Sahshir as much with her hands, and he nodded but said nothing for the moment. That was the thing about Sahshir; his mind was always turning over more than he said.


    Sahshir and Sen observed the crowds as soldiers formed a line before the doors. They were Knights of the Coin, judging from the coin symbol on their white tabards. They wore heavy chainmail. Spears were in their hands, and they were forcing them back with shields, forcing them to make way.


    "There are a lot of people," noted Sahshir.


    "Get these people out of here, we need space," said Sen.


    "They''re panicking," noted Sahshir.


    "The Fish King is rising!" said a man in obvious hysteria. "The Fish King is rising!"


    Idiots.


    The Fish King didn''t do this kind of blood rite. However, there were one or two slight alterations to the symbols on the windows. Alkela considered what they meant. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Calm yourself, all of you!" said Sahshir in sudden fury. "You''ll face this matter with forbearance and dignity! This is neither the time nor the place. Disperse, or suffer the consequences."


    Several hundred people stopped at his tone and looked at one another. Faced with Sahshir, they found numerous better things to do. So they dispersed. The Sword of Order stopped glowing. It was valuable, wasn''t it?


    The door was opened for them by a guard, and they entered the room beyond. Serna went through first, followed by Sen and Sahshir. Alkela waited until everyone else was through, then glanced outside and walked in.


    Within, Serna was kneeling by several summoning circles, all intersecting. They were seven in number, with numerous decorations. Each circle represented a Demonic Archon, which Alkela found odd. Nobody had made symbols calling on all seven Demonic Archons since Baltoth became a god. She caught Sahshir by the shoulder and motioned as much to him.


    Sahshir nodded, and then they looked and saw a shape at the center of the central circle. It was blackened and strange. Then Alkela realized it was a corpse.


    Serna seemed to realize the same thing and shrieked before backing away. Clutching her mouth, she fled from the scene as Sen watched her run. Glancing at Nagos, he scoffed.


    Alkela kneeled by the circle and examined the corpse. Well, that wasn''t Zigildrazian at all. Her Radiance didn''t like corpses, at least not disfigured ones.


    "I take it she has little combat experience," said Sen.


    "Serna wasn''t involved in the fighting in the War of Power," said Nagos. "I''ll go talk to her." He turned and made his way out after her.


    Silence fell over everyone as they waited. Alkela quickly conveyed what she''d noticed to Sahshir, who nodded. He was far sharper than most people. Then he turned to Sen.


    "Sen," said Sahshir. "how did you learn to read these texts? And shouldn''t there already be an expert here who reads these things?"


    "The man who usually investigates these sites has a breakdown. He is on leave until he recovers," said Sen. "The recent killings have gotten to him. I expect I''ll have to replace him eventually.


    "Though I''m interested in where you got someone capable of reading the language, Nagos."


    "Serna''s family has a history of education," said Nagos, coming back. "She''s fine."


    Serna came back at that moment, wiping her mouth and looking sick. "Not all the documents are written in the language that drives you insane. I learned when I was young. My great grandfather once wrote down the language''s details in a book."


    Sahshir nodded and knelt by the circles while Alkela began to examine the runes. Definitely not Zigildrazian; she hadn''t read anything like these. There were two sets of runes, actually. Some were similar to Zigildrazian but had the letters in the wrong place. Still, she could almost make some of them out.


    The other letters Alkela was wholly unfamiliar with. Were they dating back to before the Diabolus rebellion? Or the days of Amysta?


    Still, given the corpse, it could have been the work of Amysta. She used the same runes as Zigildrazia once and was all for corpses.


    "This is..." mused Sahshir.


    At the center of every circle was the image of an immense, many-tentacled monstrosity. Looking at it too closely was difficult, however. The tentacles were not coming from anywhere. You realized it was not whenever you got to something that seemed like a head or body. Their eyes ached, and soon Alkela had a headache.


    "A symbol, written in blood," said Serna.


    "Yes. This symbol often appears within these ceremonies," said Sen. "My expert, Aeon, hasn''t been able to work it out."


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "Nagos and I have traveled through many native tribes," said Serna. "some of them worshipped the Fish King. That is the symbol of Ryas, once the lizardfolk''s ancient capital. It was a legendary place where all the sea races dwelled in ignorant harmony."


    "Ignorant harmony?" asked Sahshir.


    "The races of the Fish King have a firm belief that there are some things that were not meant to be known," said Serna. "Then, chaos entered the universe. Creatures began to seek to understand things that were not their concern. In Ryas, however, all creatures knew only as much as they were meant to and no more."


    "Ryas? Yes, I remember reading about that city. And I may know where it is," said Sen.


    "How?" asked Sahshir.


    "I knew it was south of the Islands of Power," said Sen. "I hired fishermen to help me.


    They carried crystal balls and lowered them into the sea by a rope. Once there, I had sorcerers from Magicora observe the entire surrounding area. It took a few years and a great deal of money. However, I was able to find several major structures deep underwater.


    "Of course, I have refrained from sending anyone down there.


    "I do not mean to disturb whatever is down there until I am ready."


    "I remember that!" said Nagos suddenly. "Serna and I were one of those fishermen! That''s when I got pulled down and...


    "Never mind."


    "What were you going to say?" asked Sen.


    "Oh, nothing," said Nagos. "I fell into the water and nearly drowned. I had a close call with some things that live beneath the waves.


    "We caught a lot of fish that day."


    "I wasn''t aware you ever worked for me," said Sen, sounding annoyed.


    "You probably should have been," said Nagos. "You''ve got to know the people working for you; otherwise, they might not act like you think they will. The War of Power might have been less unpleasant if we had known each other.


    "You might have even won."


    Sahshir, meanwhile, had been examining the circle further. "This blood is recent.


    "Was there any sign of a break-in?"


    "The windows and doors are unbroken, and the sacrifice lived alone," said Sen with a shrug. "Or so my subordinate told me. It seems likely they were allowed in of their own accord. Or, perhaps, passed through without breaking and entering."


    Alkela made hand signs. Nagos looked at her. "Sorry, um, I don''t speak hand signs. Sahshir, what is she saying?"


    "She says that these are symbols often used by Zigildrazia in her blood rites," said Sahshir. "However, these symbols are not meant to be used for adults. They were meant for children."


    "Children?" asked Sen.


    "Yes, Zigildrazia accepts the sacrifice of unwanted children. They are to be reincarnated as demons," said Sahshir, mirroring Alkela''s version.


    "Then why set it up for adults?" asked Sen.


    No one had a chance to answer.


    There was an immense wind. It howled through the streets, and they could hear it through the streets. With it came a great mist that covered the entire streets.


    "Get your heads down; dark magic is at work," said Sahshir.


    Suddenly, the windows burst open, and mists poured into the room. Alkela put a hand to her mace, but Sahshir drew the Sword of Order. It flared to life brightly, and the mist was driven back. A presence could be sensed, and they rushed out into the street. As they did, Alkela saw an immense shadow leaning over them. Innumerable limbs seemed to come from it, and it was very near and infinitely far away.


    And there was breathing.


    The smell of death surrounded them, and cries of dismay could be heard from the houses. Shadows moved in the streets. Something burst out of nearby doors and raced into the mist. Alkela moved to pursue, but Sahshir caught her by the shoulder.


    "Stay close!" said Sahshir. "We must not get separated!"


    Then they heard something, a guttural shrieking. As one, they bolted toward it, following the light of the Sword of Order. As they did, they saw more monsters moving in the mist. Soon, there was the sound of a scuffle, with snarling and a scream.


    Then the mist cleared, just in time for Alkela to nearly fall off the edge of a pier. The clouds fled back into the sea. But the air above them was cold. Whatever the shadow had been, it was not here now.


    Sahshir halted and looked back.


    "Sahshir!" said Princess Oresa, rushing toward them.


    "Oresa, what did you see?" asked Sahshir. "Did you find the enemy?"


    "We went out to the pier for a meeting with Tuor. Well, actually, Isamu was the only one talking with Tuor; we just tagged along. Then we saw figures in the mist," said Oresa. "But they fled from us. There wasn''t any fighting or anything."


    "I have one!" called Urus.


    Alkela looked up and saw that Urus had separated his staff into four points. Lightning was surging out of it, trapping a comatose creature in place. It seemed like a man, yet it was scaly and had the head of a lizard and claws. Yet it was wearing what seemed to be the remnants of a skirt and shirt.


    "Urus, how did you find them?" asked Sahshir.


    "Cadas and I caught one coming out of one of the houses while we were here," said Urus.


    "This thing is wearing the clothing of a human," noted Sahshir.


    "Why would one of the lizardfolk wear human clothes?" asked Serna, catching up. "And how did they get in here?"


    "Probably masquerading as humans," said Sen, who had been silent. "Serna, can you find out who these people were? Were they immigrants?"


    "Why does that matter?" asked Serna.


    "Depending on how long they have been here, a great many things change," said Sen. "We must know. There are records of them changing skins. Though how could they have infiltrated us so well?" He glanced at several of his guards. "You mean, search the house it came from."


    "What of the creature?" asked Urus.


    "Take it to my prison," said Sen. "We''ll see about learning what we can from it when we have the chance."


    "Your prison?" asked Sahshir.


    "Sorn runs prisons for profit," said Sen. "And I own most of them."


    "Why are you sending them to prison?" asked Oresa.


    "What do you mean?" asked Sen.


    "What have these creatures done other than trying to flee the city?" asked Oresa.


    "I don''t have time for this," said Sen, then walked off.


    "Sen has been investigating a series of murders. He believes these creatures are responsible," clarified Sahshir.


    "What is he basing that assumption off of?" asked Urus.


    Alkela considered the question. Yes, there had been writings of the Fish King. But thanks to Sen, many more people knew how to write those runes.


    "...Very little," said Sahshir, apparently having had the same thought process. "Keep a watch on the sea. Where is Nagos? We have to try reign in Sen. I don''t fully understand this situation, but neither does he. And if we act rashly, we may make this situation far worse."

 Chapter Fourteen: Interrogation

    Sahshir followed Sen alongside Alkela. Isamu''s group was left behind to watch the pier. The lizardfolk was brought through the streets. As they walked, Sahshir noticed little damage in the city streets. The creatures that had fled into the sea had not hurt anyone, though he recalled the ritual from before.


    Still, it was possible that it was not an action directly ordered by the Fish King. Even Calisha had those who worshipped Baltoth but acted contrary to his will. Soon enough, Nagos came up behind them, walking his hands in his pocket. Somehow, he''d gotten ahold of a reed, and it was between his teeth.


    He was looking down at his feet, seeming troubled.


    Sahshir shifted his grip upon his sword. "Nagos, where were you?"


    "I was talking with some of the servants in the great dome," said Nagos, motioning with his head. Sahshir looked to where the dome stood, towering over the whole world. "Turns out the priests have a lot of parties. Half the city makes money providing food and decorations for it."


    "Why do you care?" asked Sen flatly, who seemed in a fouler mood than usual.


    "I like to know about places I visit," said Nagos with a shrug.


    "In any case," said Sen. "I''ll need your help interrogating the prisoner. You do speak their language, after all."


    "Why not get Serna for it?" asked Sahshir.


    "Serna doesn''t speak merfolk; she just reads it," said Nagos with a shrug. "The pronunciations are a bit weird, and it can break people to learn them all.


    "So, here I am."


    Soon enough, they came to the prison. It was a large, square building near the city''s edges. All the windows were small and barred; most were more than one story up. Lined up along the base of the door was a set of cages. In each one was a man, forced to kneel with hands put out between the bars imploringly.


    Sahshir looked at Sen. "Who are these men?"


    "Beggers," said Sen. "They couldn''t afford to pay for their chains and food. So they remain here and beg."


    "You expect men to pay for room and board in prison?" asked Sahshir, feeling a sense of horror.


    "I run a business," said Sen. "Not a charity. These men committed crimes or were stupid enough to get on the wrong side of powerful people. Why should I not make a profit off housing them?"


    Nagos shifted and quickly drew out several silver coins. He pressed one of them into each beggar''s hand, waiting to do each. Sen looked at him in irritation. "Will you hurry up?"


    Nagos said nothing instead of going down the entire line. As they did, Sen glanced at Sahshir. "What do they do in Calisha?"


    "Calisha does not have prisons," said Sahshir. "It has executions and labors."


    "Labors?" asked Sen.


    "Oh, I remember this," said Nagos, coming back. "If Baltoth''s laws do not demand you be executed, you can redeem yourself. I am usually performing some service. It depends on the class; some have to work it off. Others go on quests, though I heard the domain of Neseriah drafts men into military service.


    "And if you refuse, you get crucified."


    "Crucifixion is barbarism," scoffed Sen.


    "As opposed to a slow, wasting death in the sugar plantations?" asked Sahshir, hating the man all the more.


    "At least the sugar plantations produce something of value," said Sen.


    Then he turned to walk into the prison.


    "Nagos, why do you even speak this language?" asked Sahshir as they entered.


    "I picked it up from some of the natives who did deals with them," said Nagos. "Sometimes the lizardfolk would come up out of the sea, and there''d be celebrations. I picked up a thing or two on my journeys."


    Within the prison was a dark place of cramped cells with many rough-looking men in cages. Sahshir saw several even rougher-looking men dragging the corpse of a prisoner out and tossing them in a pile. "How did this man die?"


    "A minor sickness," said Sen. "or perhaps a fight among inmates."


    "Pleasant," said Nagos. "So, where is the prisoner?"


    "In the interrogation room, obviously," said Sen. "Most prisons have one. Follow me."


    The interrogation room had all kinds of cruel-looking knives and blades on the walls. There was a rack, thumbscrews, and all other kinds of horrors. Sahshir had been sure to burn all such devices on his ascension. He''d had to sort through much inventory to do it. They hadn''t even been used on the worst criminals.


    The lizardfolk was leaning over a table with several cloaked men standing by. Masks hid their faces, and they had a hand on their knives.


    "Is this her?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes," said Sen. "I have torturers on hand if-"


    "I don''t need it," said Nagos. "I''ll talk with her alone. All of you need to leave right now."


    "Why should-" began Sen.


    Then Nagos spoke, his voice uttering guttural words. Sahshir clutched the sword of order as his usual agony became worse. It left his head spinning, and he stepped back at a pace. Sen flinched only slightly. The guards, meanwhile, collapsed.


    "That language..." said Sen, straightening his jacket.


    "It hurts the ears, doesn''t it?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes," said Sen. "Get out. All of you."


    Sen and Sahshir left the room, and Sahshir leaned against the wall, listening for any sign of violence. As he did, Sen looked at Sahshir. "Those who learn it tend to become subject to the will of the Fish King over time. You should be careful about your friend, Nagos. He could act against you when you least expect it."


    "I trust him far more than I do you," said Sahshir flatly.


    Sen waited to answer to that. "...A fair point."


    They waited.


    As they did, Sen became increasingly uncomfortable. Sahshir could tell by the way he didn''t move. The man had a body language where he rarely openly reacted to anything. However, the exact way he didn''t react could be seen.


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    Sahshir wondered if Sen had expected their meeting to go otherwise. Perhaps he desired respect as a worthy opponent? Or perhaps he''d noticed that Nagos treated him differently from other people. In either event, Sahshir did not respect the man. He would give him only as much respect as necessary for honorable purposes. He was competent but had no real honor and was, in addition, a truly terrible person. Only too well did Sahshir remember the butchery on McShore.


    What surprised Sahshir was that this bothered Sen at all. Why should he care what Sahshir or Nagos thought of him? The answer didn''t interest Sahshir, though. He wanted to finish this business and never think about the monster beside him again.


    Nagos came back. "Alright, I just spoke with her."


    "It''s a she?" asked Sen in surprise.


    "She is a girl, about fourteen," said Nagos. "In human years anyway, lizardfolk have a different time scale.


    "It turns out that she is part of a group of lizardfolk who were instructed to take on human skin. They entered and lived among Sorn for some years to act as eyes and ears for the Fish King."


    "Then she''s a spy," surmised Sen.


    "No more than any person who lives abroad and writes letters to their family," said Nagos.


    "Abruptly, she was called to return to the sea with her family under the Fish King''s mist yesterday. However, she was jumped and captured and is now afraid for her life.


    "She''s scared and wants to go home."


    "So she should be," said Sen, looking to his subordinates. "Get my experts in here with the implements. Get whatever you can from it, and then eliminate it."


    "What law has this creature broken?" asked Sahshir.


    "What?" said Sen, looking at him with sudden anger.


    "On what grounds are you holding it?" asked Sahshir. "As far as I can tell, it merely appeared as a human and immigrated onto land. No one has been harmed in the recent exodus."


    "What of the rituals?" asked Sen.


    Alkela spoke up, motioning with her hands. Sen, of course, didn''t understand the words. "What is the mute saying?"


    "Alkela speculates that it could have been anyone who knows the runes of the Fish King," said Sahshir. "Thanks to you, that number has grown exponentially. We don''t have any guarantee that it was lizardfolk who did it, and if it was, they might be unconnected."


    "I''ll go ask her about it," said Nagos quickly before returning.


    Now, Sen seemed well and truly furious.


    Sahshir wondered if Sen felt he was being denied some respect or recognition that he had earned. Or there was some other reason for this. Sen wasn''t sure what it was because he began to pace. Finally, he looked up. "Why are you so keen to take a monster''s word at face value?"


    "I felt that your refusal to hold a grudge spoke well of you. And found your translation of the Fish King''s book impressive," replied Sahshir. It was all true, of course, and might soothe relations. But Sahshir neither liked nor respected the man nonetheless.


    This seemed to placate Sen somewhat, but he kept pacing, looking down at the ground. It was true what was written:


    ''The virtuous are sure of their course, but the wicked are always plagued by doubt.''


    Soon enough, Nagos came back. "Okay, I''ve finished.


    "It turns out that the worship of Zigildrazia has begun to spread among some of the lizardfolk on land. You see, among lizardfolk, eating their own eggs is common practice. Most of those lain are infertile anyway.


    "As such, the infanticide rituals are considered to be an easy in."


    "That was no infant they murdered," noted Sen.


    "Well, there are rituals by which some mortals transformed into lizardfolk," said Nagos. "Brought into the Fish King''s domain, so to speak.


    "The transformation is consensual and requires willing submission.


    "However, it turns out that some lizardfolk target those who could become them. They think of them as unhatched eggs and, therefore, infants. Her mother warned her against this."


    "But why these actions?" snapped Sen. "What are they planning?"


    "I have no idea what they''re planning; she''s not a spy," said Nagos. "And if she was, I doubt she''d be told that.


    "As for why...


    "The Fish King''s priests noticed the number of potential converts dropping. And that it was mostly happening because of Sorn. So they arranged for some lizardfolk families to take on mortal form and see what was going on in Sorn.


    "If I had a guess, they were called back to report on their findings."


    Sen stood up and considered things carefully. "...Meaning that she knows how to get to the domain of the Fish King. Ask her how she enters and leaves."


    "I already did," said Nagos. "When a lizardfolk is summoned back into the ocean, they have the power to swim back. Ordinarily, the way is shut even to them. The Fish King''s domain exists in a different plane of existence. One that just happens to overlap with the ocean."


    "Could she take others with her?" asked Sen.


    "Perhaps," said Nagos.


    "I see," said Sen. "If our spies penetrate the Fish King domain, we could scout our enemy."


    "That is assuming they are our enemy at the moment," noted Sahshir. "What is more relevant is why they would go out of their way to call their servants back to us in such a dramatic fashion."


    "What do you mean?" asked Sen.


    "Consider this," said Sahshir. "They could have simply called them all back at once during the dead of night and had them slip into the ocean. Their disappearance would have been noted, but it would have only started a few rumors.


    "Why waste the power to summon a mist to hide their flight? Unless they wanted us to notice something would happen." Sahshir sighed and drew his sword. "I''m going to speak with the spirit that summoned the mist. The Sword of Order should allow me to find them if I focus."


    "How?" asked Sen.


    "Spirits by nature disrupt the natural order," explained Sahshir. "The Sword of Order allows me to sense such disruptions, especially when they have acted.


    "For now, that girl should not be harmed."


    "Which girl?" asked Sen in confusion.


    "The one you have in prison," said Sahshir. "Whatever use she may be to us, it may require her intact and unharmed. Nagos, Alkela, come with me."


    Focusing on the Sword of Order, Sahshir reached out and sensed any sign of near powers. He sensed one of immense power that was Isamu and his group. Sahshir decided he''d best speak with him first.


    And so he followed.


    Soon enough, they found Isamu pacing restlessly while Oresa and Urus played cards.


    "How do you always win like this?" asked Oresa. "You always know what someone is going to draw."


    "There are only so many cards of a given type," explained Urus. "I count how many of a given type are drawn and such. That lets me get a sense of what is likely to appear next." Then they noticed Sahshir.


    Isamu came up to him. "Alright, what is going on here?"


    "We have a new task, Isamu," said Sahshir. "You and your companions will accompany us to act as support."


    "What task?" asked Isamu. "What are you talking about?"


    "We''re trying to track down the spirit that summoned the mist," said Nagos. "Anything, Sahshir?"


    Sahshir focused on the sword again. Feeling the area around him, he gazed at the spirit realm. As he did, he perceived the souls of those around him. Sahshir had trained himself to use this ability at will since unlocking it. Yet it was unpleasant to see true faces, and he kept his gaze looking for spirits.


    Soon enough, Sahshir found a trail. It was leading away from the pier toward the south. He followed it with his mind, taking a wider view. As he did, he noticed Sen''s spirit. The last time he''d looked at it, it had been decayed and horrific. It was scarred and wounded, but the wounds were healing a bit. Perhaps there was a hope of recovery, though it was doubtful it would ever be healthy again.


    Focusing on the trail, Sahshir saw where it led. "This way. I can sense the trail; it''s leading out... Out over the walls and into the lands to the south."


    "What?" said Isamu. "But, spirits can''t move."


    "Actually, Isamu, many spirits can move," said Urus. "Some are bound to a particular place, but many move about all the time. Much as not all men of legal age own property."


    "Alkela, can you sense any of the taint of Zigildrazia here?" asked Sahshir, dropping out of the vision.


    Alkela answered.


    "What''s she saying?" asked Isamu.


    "That it is not taint," said Sahshir, annoyed at the response. "Answer my questions and then debate semantics."


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    "I see," said Sahshir. "Zigildrazia''s power is not present within the air at all here. Nothing like it was before. That is something I can attest to personally."


    "How would she know?" asked Isamu.


    "Alkela is a distant descendant of Zigildrazia," said Sahshir. "Many generations removed. Combined with her training, she has an affinity for her presence."


    "That sounds handy," said Isamu. "So, um, if we do end up fighting Zigildrazia is that going to be a problem?"


    Alkela answered.


    "What?" asked Isamu. "Alkela is saying that if it would be a problem, she wouldn''t tell you, so the question would be irrelevant."


    "Oh, right," said Isamu.


    "In any case, our quarry has fled," said Sahshir. "We''ll have to journey some ways to find them. Prepare for a journey and find us a guide."


    Sahshir wondered if healing the spirit was the same as the body.

 Chapter Fifteen: Journey through Sorn

    The land of Sorn was truly desolate once you got past the Ghost River just south of Suvera. The trip over the bridge was eerie, veiled in mist. At any time, as they crossed it, you wondered if someone would devour you. Supposed it went through the mountains to the east, turned north, and Savior''s Run. Though it was known as Elranor''s River while passing through.


    It was a moot point; the true name was Savior''s Run. In his mind, a river named after Baltoth should be less veiled in mist.


    Baltoth was Truth, after all.


    Even so, it was odd. You could see plants wherever you walked. The grass here grew long where there weren''t fields. The fields produced a great number of plants, and yet there was no joy within them. Something about the land was... strange.


    He saw great bushes of roses, carefully tended. Yet those who worked on them spoke only of their value. Most of the farmers went armed with knives and gave them wary glances as they walked. They would occasionally encounter patrols of Sornian Pikemen clad in chain armor. They marched with discipline. These bore the emblems of several different noble houses. They also spoke to Garrick with respect.


    "It''s a precaution," explained Garrick. "To ensure that the policing of the roads is impartial, each house pays a portion of the guard''s."


    "What threats do you face?" asked Sahshir.


    "Bandits, sometimes," said Garrick. "More often, you have rebellions from the Numbered Villages. Also, now and then, undead stream forth from the Road of Ancient Stone. Though that hasn''t happened in a long time."


    "Numbered Villages?" asked Oresa.


    "Where we''re heading," said Sahshir, who had been in such a hurry he hadn''t been able to explain. "A series of villages populated by people who are not citizens or slaves. But they have lived here for generations."


    "Most of them are the descendants of captives. They were taken long ago as slaves and freed themselves," said Garrick, shifting his sword. "The villages were founded by Suvvest to work the vast empty land. It was a result of the Age of Withering when a large part of our population in those areas was wiped out.


    "He carried off many people in raids. He forced them to settle here, under the watch of garrisons. Now, they supply a large portion of the food crops for Sorn. Most of it is sold, of course. The Great Houses have carefully ensured we need not fear starvation."


    "So they''re serfs," said Urus.


    "No," said Garrick. "Serfs are afforded certain rights and according to contract. Their Lords owe them protection and land to work their fields. Those who dwell here have no such rights. They largely provide their own protection; the garrisons keep them in line.


    "Though House Suvvest has recently introduced several Churches to the location. He sees it as an opportunity for a profit and a chance to reward his followers."


    "By healing the people?" asked Oresa.


    "Naturally not," said Garrick. "They had developed healers amongst them, worshipping other gods. The Church extended its influence there to ensure those healers had to make a profit for Sorn."


    "Did it work?" asked Urus.


    "No, most of them left or were killed for practicing healing illegally," said Garrick. "But Suvvest was able to levy an extra tax on them, and they are less self-sufficient. So, I doubt he cared.


    "Humanitarian concerns are generally regarded as an excuse to extend the business."


    "Nice people you work with," said Isamu. "I can see why you like the place."


    "I do not like the place," said Garrick. "I am merely contractually obligated to work here. I am a Knight of the Coin."


    Sahshir decided it was time to change the subject. So he looked down at the roads beneath his feet. They were flat and well-made, far superior to the best roads his people had made. If he ever did return to Kalthak, he''d have to build something like this.


    "These roads are very fine," said Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Garrick. "One of Suvvest the Great''s achievements was building strong, easily traversed roads. They went all throughout the major locations. It has done wonders for our economy and makes suppressing revolts simple.


    "At one time, he could charge everyone in Sorn a toll for using them.


    "House Suvvest has wanted a return to those days for decades."


    "Why''d he give up the right?" asked Urus.


    "He did not, per se, have a choice," said Garrick.


    By now, they had entered a place where many warped trees and occasional bogs could be seen. Mushrooms were sprouting all over the place, some truly immense, as big as trees. To their right, the sea stood serene, drab, and gray. To their left were fields with farms and occasional forts situated.


    And at last, they came to a village. It was a maze of wooden villages on raised platforms. Wherever you looked, you could see nets being stretched on wood. The people were dressed in clothes that looked to have been repaired many times. As they descended, Isamu missed the obvious.


    "Is that the place, Garrick?" asked Isamu.


    "Yes," said Garrick. "This is Village Six."


    "Some name," said Isamu. "So, where are villages five through one?"


    "South, of course," said Garrick.


    "Hasn''t anyone ever tried to rename it?" asked Oresa.


    "That would be a breach of contract," said Garrick. "Sorn wants all its employees to fully understand just how much of their own world belongs to them. A word of warning: only expect aid from the priests with payment.


    "You won''t get it."


    "Why?" asked Oresa.


    "The Priests of Coinfurth are forbidden from aiding anyone without pay," said Garrick. "They are strict followers of Suvvestianism."


    "Which is?" asked Isamu.


    "An ideology I once followed," said Garrick. "It teaches that the greatest good comes when every man tends to his own self-interest. Under Suvvestianism, charity of any kind is the worst thing you can do."


    "Oh, I see," said Isamu. "It''s an excuse for rich people to murder and exploit poor people with a clear conscience."


    "More or less," admitted Garrick. "Suvvest outlawed charity of any kind and closed down all the orphanages. The only charities allowed were workhouses. And they were encouraged to be as brutal and exploitative as possible. To motivate them to become less poor, of course.


    "Fortunately, Grandmaster Hafkin was able to change Suvvest the Great''s mind. Mine too."


    "How?" asked Isamu. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, it came out that Suvvest was beginning to own just about everything," said Garrick. "The other Merchant Lords weren''t pleased, but my order remained neutral.


    Eventually, Suvvest started breaking contracts. Many of which were long held sacred. He claimed they interfered with people''s ability to pursue their self-interest. In practice, they just got in the way of his ability to exploit people.


    "Naturally, the Knights of the Coin staged a popular uprising against Suvvest. The other Merchant Families united with us. We burned his house, and he was forced to flee with his family for Harlenor. I was only a young knight then, but I pursued him on the orders of Grandmaster Hafkin.


    "I tracked him all the way to the border, caught him. He was half-starved and dressed in rags alongside his family.


    "I then offered him a choice. He could either be tortured to death over months. Or he could accept a large bag of silver and restart his life in Antion.


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    "He took the silver."


    Isamu roared with laughter. "That''s a dangerous way to make a point. You sure you wouldn''t rather just cut him in half?"


    "Grandmaster Hafkin was very fond of morality tales, actually," said Garrick. "And Suvvest and he had hated one another their entire lives. More importantly, it permanently discredited Suvvestianism in my eyes and ensured my loyalty.


    "At any rate, House Suvvest restored its good name, which I mean its money, and returned to Sorn. They''ve now taken control of the Church for the most part and are trying to restore Suvvestianism." He stopped as they reached the gates.


    "What?" said Oresa. "But didn''t they learn anything?"


    "Of course, they didn''t learn anything," said Urus suddenly. "Suvvust''s ideology was pure selfishness. He may have come up with elaborate reasoning for why it was good for society. But in the end, he didn''t care about society, or he wouldn''t have gone to the trouble of making it up. It was all about satiating his ego.


    "All Suvvestianism really meant was that he could do whatever he wanted to get whatever he liked. When Suvvest took the silver, he made up an elaborate lie. He talked about how the silver was his rightful due to establishing the Empire. And therefore, he was really establishing partial restitution for his money. While anyone who didn''t believe in his code would be wrong to accept it."


    "All that is true," conceded Garrick. "However, he was somewhat wiser in his approach afterward.


    "Still, this is where I will be stopping. King Sahshir, have you found any sign of the spirits?"


    "Wait, a minute, Urus, you know about all this?" asked Isamu. "Why didn''t you tell us earlier?"


    "Because you never ask questions, Isamu," said Urus. "Cadas is almost always silent. And Oresa hasn''t been with us at all. So nobody has been around to ask about the places we visit."


    "Ahem," said Sahshir. "The enemy is near. Very near. I do not see any reason to remain here any-"


    And then a commotion happened in the street. Sahshir saw a slim, healthy white man walking with armed guards. He had curly blonde hair. Suddenly, a woman with small horns, a half-satyr, he guessed, bowed before him. "Please! Please, Master Priest, you have to help my husband! He''s bleeding and needs your help!"


    The Priest smiled but did not move. "Coinfurth is glad to aid those who contract with his priests, of course."


    "We... we don''t have the money," said the woman.


    The priest looked almost relieved. "Then, I must ask you to cease blocking my path."


    "But he''s dying!" said the woman.


    "One can never aid someone without them first giving something in return," said the priest. "To do otherwise is to weaken yourself and weaken them. This is your fault for not making economically sound decisions."


    "He''s fading!" shouted someone else.


    Oresa and Isamu broke with the group at once. Oresa headed for where the voice was going, and Isamu stalked toward the priest.


    "Economically sound?" asked a nearby man. A mob was gathering.


    "The economy naturally rights itself," said the priests.


    Sahshir noted that many of these people looked hungry and greatly doubted that.


    "We don''t have any money because you took away our lands and forced us to pay rent!" snarled a man. "We can hardly make enough to feed ourselves! Let alone save up! You tax us for not being part of the Church of Coinfurth, and then you don''t let us join!"


    "Those who wish for Coinfurth''s protection must be willing to sacrifice for it," said the priest.


    The people moved forward, but the guards lowered spears.


    "Be wary; attacking a Priest of Coinfurth is a sign of disrespect that will not go unpunished," said the priest.


    "To hell with your Church!" snapped the man. "What has it ever done for us!"


    The priest went cold. "...Unfortunate.


    "Break both his legs, then fine his family-"


    Isamu landed behind him and stepped between them, sword raised. "Step away from that man, you bastard! Oresa, heal the injured man. Now."


    "Heresy!" snarled the priest, leaping away. "Kill them! Fine them! Tax their funerals!"


    And then Garrick stepped into view from the shadows. Somehow, even though when Sahshir had last noticed, he''d been in broad daylight. He was very good. "Enough.


    The priest shuddered and turned to where Garrick was. The guards suddenly found they had better things to do. They stood to attention a healthy distance away from the priest. "G-Garrick... E-Estov... I..."


    "You are in violation of your contract," said Garrick simply.


    "No, no, I''m not," said the young man. "They have to pay me for the use of-"


    "The social contract," said Garrick. "Unwritten, but binding. You are a leader. You are obligated to ensure they remain productive. Your actions have nearly caused a riot¡ªthe exact opposite of productivity.


    "It would have been a small price to pay to heal the man and expect service later.


    "Now that price will be far larger." Then he moved past the priest and slammed a fist into Isamu''s gut. The man doubled over, spitting out blood as he did.


    Isamu glanced up. "Just who the hell do you people think you are?


    "The legal authorities," said Garrick. "Explain yourself at once, Isamu."


    "This guy was about to start killing people because they were angry a man was being left to bleed out in the street!" said Isamu. "And you want me to explain myself! If he''d tried to break his legs, there''d have been a riot, and then that idiot would have called for a massacre!"


    "My associate took a rather superficial view of Coinfurth''s teachings," said Garrick. "It is true, and for that, I apologize. However, you have nearly assaulted his guards.


    "King Sahshir, I must ask for an explanation."


    "Isamu is not by nature a careful person," replied Sahshir. He found all this needlessly elaborate. "However, he is not under my authority. If you are to seek him punished, you must speak with King Belosh."


    "You son of a-" snapped Isamu.


    "Is he not under your command now?" asked Garrick.


    "It is true," said Sahshir. "However, to execute him for disobedience would be beyond the scope of my authority. It would risk war with King Belosh. Allow us to complete our mission; from there, we shall speak to the King on your behalf.


    "We are acting on behalf of the Houses of Sorn, after all."


    "And yet you have not illustrated the nature of your mission," said Garrick.


    "We are investigating the recent mists that rose up over Suvera. To cover the lizardmen''s escape," said Sahshir. "Isamu will be of importance in this mission."


    "I see," said Garrick. "Then it would not be within my rights to interfere. Very well, then, the restitution for your crimes shall be thus: One day, I will ask you for a service. When that day comes, you will perform it on behalf of the Knights of the Coin.


    "Agree to this, and I will let the matter pass."


    "Sure, as long as it isn''t anything evil," said Isamu. "I don''t burn villages or enslave people."


    "...I assure you, it will be nothing of the sort," said Garrick. "Let us move past this."


    "My thanks," said Sahshir.


    "Why the hell do I have to do a vision quest because that scumbag wanted to start a massacre?" asked Isamu.


    "Because you threatened a priest with death," said Sahshir. "You may wish you had kept some of your winnings from the tournament earlier. The fine for this may be very high."


    "Perhaps we should continue with our own business," said Garrick.


    "What is your business, anyway?" asked Isamu, forgetting the confrontation. In the background, Isamu could see Oresa being led to several other sick people to heal.


    "I am investigating the nature of the contracts within this area," said Garrick. "The villagers who dwell here are immigrants: escaped slaves, foreigners, things like that. Dwarves tend to live in the mountains to mine the Suveran silver mines, but here is where we move them.


    "The Church of Coinfurth owns all these lands, and those he dwells here merely work them. They must pay for their rent and taxes on various goods¡ªboth the ones they buy and the ones they sell.


    "The Knights of the Coin have ordered me to investigate their numbers. I hope to prepare a full report on whether or not the exploitation of those here is legal."


    "Legal exploitation? Is that not a contradiction?" asked Sahshir.


    "The contracts of men may suffer injustice," said Garrick.


    "The contracts of men is not the law," noted Sahshir. "Only an attempt to recover the moral law that binds us all. What you do to these people is illegal, no matter how many contracts you sign."


    "Perhaps so," said Garrick. "However, until the original contract is found, we will operate on inferior codes. The exploitation of these people is legal to an extent. However, the Knights of the Coin have reason to believe it has gone beyond that extent. I may write an official report for review if the information on these abuses can be found."


    "Where are these Knights of the Coin anyway? I haven''t seen them anywhere?" asked Urus.


    Garrick went silent and glanced at the priest, who took this chance to leave. "...There are not very many of us left now."


    "What do you mean?" asked Isamu.


    "Our orders were established to ensure fairness was upheld in contracts," said Garrick. "However, when Sorn began to adapt Antion''s legal code, we decreased in relevance. Knights of the Coin were expected to fight at the forefront of wars. Much of the order was drawn from aristocrats seeking power and prestige.


    "However, in recent times, Sorn''s wars have been almost entirely against native populations. The traditional stratagem was to make contracts with them. Then, one would break them when it was no longer convenient. The Knights of the Coin spoke out against these actions, however. That alienated us from the Merchant Elite.


    "We were no longer called in to preside over contracts. We were sworn to fairness, precisely what they didn''t want. Even when we ruled against abuses of power, the Merchant Elite ignored us. They smeared our name, blaming us for the corruption they had spread and argued as a means to reduce our power.


    "Many left the order. Those that remained began to die with alarming frequency. I found a large number of thugs decided to rob me this morning. Eventually, it was decided to take up service under House Magnious.


    "Many more of us have been killed in the Third Dinisian War, and many that remain have left the order. Grandmaster Wrentath is old, and I am now his primary agent. For the moment."


    "I''m sorry," said Sahshir.


    "It is of no concern," said Garrick. "All of us have our own dues to pay. Now, if you''ll excuse me, I have a lot of paperwork to review."


    Sahshir then remembered his own mission and sensed where the spirits were. Now he knew where to go. It wasn''t far now at all. Oresa returned then. "Urus, Oresa, Alkela, you will accompany me.


    "Isamu, Cadas."


    "What is it?" asked Isamu.


    "Stay with Garrick and make sure that nothing happens to him," said Sahshir. "We won''t need you for this."


    "Fine, whatever," said Isamu. "I was hoping to get this stupid quest over with anyway."


    Then they were off.

 Chapter Sixteen: The Plans of Baltoth

    Sahshir''s body began to fail him later that day.


    Of course, he''d felt the pain as usual for a long time, but it had not bothered him as much since the Second War of Power. However, it began to grow to the point where he felt he needed to stop. Not that Sahshir showed this weakness; he merely halted by a tree and sat down as if to meditate.


    "We will rest here for a time," said Sahshr, putting the Sword of Order across his knees. "Urus, head to the north of here and find a cliff face. It looks out over the Sea of Power. The spirits are focused there.


    "I am relying on you to find it."


    "Is something wrong, Sahshir?" asked Oresa.


    "I must meditate," said Sahshir.


    Urus nodded and moved off with his staff. Oresa sat down across from him and looked at him with concern. Sahshir wondered what it was like to find a woman beautiful. He could look at her and know many would find her attractive. Sahshir wondered if that was all there was. Then, he dismissed the subject as irrelevant to his duty.


    His eyes turned to where Tuor had emerged. He wore a pair of nunchucks at his side and a white tunic. His eyes were faintly amused.


    "Tuor, I''m surprised you are here," said Sahshir.


    Tuor shrugged and sat down. "I thought you might need guidance. You''ve now headed in the opposite direction we''d planned."


    "What use is the Heaven''s Eye to Baltoth if we cannot get to him?" asked Sahshir. "If Sorn is hostile, we''ll have far more difficulty."


    "It was merely an observation," noted Tuor. "It is the way of things that small deviations lead to far larger ones if you allow them to."


    "I would have thought you would have objected," noted Sahshir. "You have come all the way out here after us."


    Tuor shrugged. "It is often in deviations that we gain the power to achieve our goals.


    "This is a matter that cannot be put off. Our own mission, however, can. King Belosh will easily be able to handle negotiations in the meantime."


    "Um, Master Tuor, may I ask something?" asked Oresa suddenly.


    "What is it, girl?" asked Tuor, annoyed at the interruption.


    "You, um, you mentioned we''re going to steal the Heaven''s Eye in the name of Baltoth. Won''t um... won''t..." Oresa faltered.


    "Speak freely, Oresa," said Sahshir. "The ruler benefits from hearing alternate perspectives."


    "Won''t that start a war?" asked Oresa. "I mean, Father tells me that we''re at peace with them now. My brother, Ashinin, led the army that fought alongside them in Khasmir to the far west."


    "It is no longer to the far west, Oresa," said Sahshir. "Sorn is a comparatively small way south and east of Khasmir, just below the High Elves realm on the map."


    "Well, yes, but we''re at peace with them now," said Oresa. "Duke Vanion respects Baltoth; some say he is even a worshipper in spirit."


    "Worshipper in spirit?" asked Sahshir, having not heard the concept before.


    "It''s a belief among the Medi," said Tuor. "To be a worshipper in spirit is to be a devout follower of a particular cause or deity. But you also believe yourself to be something else. Personally, I find the idea to be absurd. Ones'' conscious choices are the only relevant ones; those you do not know you are taking are not yours."


    "But what if this starts a war?" asked Oresa.


    "War is inevitable," said Tuor with a shrug. "And I can see far afield through my agents. Even as we speak, powers are gathering to begin a new conflict.


    "Vanion''s actions have only delayed the inevitable. His enemies at court will jump at any chance to destroy his efforts. I suspect he was only buying time to make a deal with Queen Arraxia of Seathorius. With Savior''s Run reopened and a military alliance, he would be powerful indeed. All the more formidable to face our invasion, or Antion''s."


    "Antion''s?" asked Oresa. "But surely he serves Antion."


    "No Harlenorian serves another for long," said Tuor. "It is in their nature to fight amongst one another."


    "But shouldn''t we try to maintain the peace as long as possible?" asked Oresa.


    "Peace should only be prolonged if a prolonged peace is to your benefit," said Tuor. "Once we have the Heaven''s Eye, Baltoth''s plan may come to fruition. Once that happens, Calisha shall reign supreme. And no earthly power may withstand us."


    "Fine words from one who does not believe them," noted Sahshir in amusement.


    "You assume much, Abdul. Why this cynicism?" asked Tuor, smiling.


    "The plan, as you have laid it out, is vague and devoid of true content," said Sahshir with a shrug. "You ask us to accept your assurances on faith. While we have nothing without faith, I would prefer something more tangible now."


    "Do you question the will of Baltoth?" asked Tuor.


    "I question you," replied Sahshir, letting an edge into his tone.


    Tuor nodded. "Fair enough.


    "Very well, the truth is rather more boring, Oresa. No doubt you''ve heard the prophecy of Valranor?"


    "Yes, ages ago, Valranor ruled over the world with an iron fist," said Oresa. "He cast down Ancient Namina when they refused to swear fealty to him. My family dates back to the first dynasty of Namina; we descend from one of the Emperor''s sons. The one who won the civil war.


    "When the island sank into the sea, we were hard-pressed to keep Valranor''s armies back.


    "But Baltoth the proud came forth in Seathorius and sowed discord among the Western Lands. From there, he marched alone into Valranor''s domain and made war upon him. Many great battles ensued, and the Dust Elven civilization was cast down. Their proud spires were humbled, and they were forced from the land.


    "At last, Baltoth was challenged to fight with Valranor sword to sword. But Baltoth was cunning and brought his sons, Suloth and Baelgost. Taking Valranor by surprise, he was overwhelmed. Suloth held him in place with magic chains, Baelgost cut his armor from his body. And Baltoth drove the Blade of Chaos into his heart, claiming the Sword of Order as his own.


    "Then Valranor uttered these words:


    "When East and West are in endless war,


    "When the Sun burns brightest,


    "Then shall you die by the hand of the bloodline of Anoa.


    "You shall come to your end, and none shall save you."


    "You know the tale well," noted Tuor.


    "My sister, Atria, made sure I knew the story by heart, but well..." Oresa faltered. "She was taken prisoner by Tanith Telus, lieutenant of Argath Marn. Now, she is kept as her slave in the Dark Land of Ran Telus. East and West are in endless war, but what about the Sun Burning Brightest?"


    "Metaphor, likely," said Sahshir. He and Tuor shared a glance before Tuor spoke. "In any case, the prophecy is a problem. Baltoth attempted to thwart it, of course. He ambushed and murdered Anoa IX, and that led to an era of Calishan dominance. But the bloodline has survived, and now we know it has returned.


    "Relma Artorious, the Heir of Kings, has claimed Lightning Trail. I had hoped I''d managed to kill her with her parents. Unfortunately, Pandora and Arengeth are only useful if resourceful. Even now is working to establish Harlenor Reunited."


    "Why is that bad?" asked Oresa.


    "Because the Heir of Kings is of Anoa''s bloodline by nature," said Tuor. "The Harlenorians have their own prophecy that says the Heir of Kings shall reunite the land. All the Kingdoms shall be brought to heel to create Harlenor Reunited."


    "But what could unite Harlenor?" asked Oresa. "They fight among eachother as much as us."


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    "Their hatred of us," said Sahshir, who had read extensively on the subject. "Every Harlenorian Knight is expected to participate in the Calishan Wars. That is what they call the innumerable conflicts between us. Every man-at-arms who fights within them thinks of it with pride. Whenever Calisha begins to gain dominance, all of them unite against us.


    "Their hatred for Baltoth and their eternal vendetta is what unites them.


    "So the only way the Heir of Kings could sustain such a union would be by leading a great crusade against us. And in that crusade, it would be an ideal time to fulfill Valranor''s prophecy."


    "Well said," said Tuor. "In any case, Baltoth has no intention of engaging the Heir of Kings in a climactic battle. Especially when we''ve finally managed to find some reasonable Lords we can make a deal with. It would be disastrous and, even if victorious, would devastate both our lands.


    "And knowing how prophecies usually work, there would be some unknown baby. They''d grow up under the guidance of a wise sorcerer. Then they''ll have everything handed to them and go through a predetermined road of trials. From there, the whole damn thing would start all over again. Leading to an eternal conflict between curly-haired farmboys and Baltoth. Eventually, one of the insufferable brats got lucky.


    "Needless to say, it''s not something we intend to let happen."


    "So what are we doing instead?" asked Oresa.


    "The Heaven''s Eye can only be used by one of Elranor''s bloodlines, and it is an immensely powerful object," said Tuor. "As such, it is the ideal weapon by which one of those idiots might stand a chance against Baltoth in combat. Arengeth and Pandora will be well aware of this fact. When we steal it, they will have to go after us.


    "Fortunately, they must bring the Heir of Kings with them. They will follow us to Calisha, and we will murder them there and then. With Arengeth''s death, the primary thing of keeping the old spirit alive will be gone. No one will remain to guide the prophecy, and it will hopefully die. At the very least, it will slow it down."


    "What if the Heir of King''s wins?" asked Oresa.


    "Well then, we''ll at least have resolved the age-old grudge between our nations. And we''ll have done so without devastating the lands of Calisha," said Tuor. "Baltoth has already established a clear succession if he is killed. So, if he dies, plans are already in motion to ensure his resurrection. Some have already been made.


    "Once Baltoth is dead, if it comes to that, we''ll simply demand the Heir of King''s head to keep the peace between our nations, of course. The Heir of the King''s threatens the independence of every robber baron in Harlenor. With the only reason they''d need her gone, they''d be glad to get rid of her even if they would never admit it.


    "Baltoth will return to life. The Heir of Kings will be dead. The prophecy will be fulfilled. And the world won''t be ripped to shreds by a pointless war that benefits precisely no one.


    "So, to answer your question, we are provoking the Heir of Kings into action to avoid a war. Baltoth is acting for the betterment of the world as a whole."


    "But how are you going to get the Heaven''s Eye?" asked Oresa. "No one not of Elranor''s bloodline can touch it."


    Tuor looked to Sahshir. "Tell her."


    Sahshir resented the command but saw no reason not to cooperate. "I am of the bloodline of Elranor, distantly, as is Tuor."


    Oresa stared in shock. "What, but that can''t be! You''re nothing like the chaotic God of Healing!"


    "Be that as it may, I have the blood," said Sahshir. "As such, both of us will be able to take the Eye."


    "Only you, actually," said Tuor. "I am... considered an enemy by the Eye. Elranor was not pleased with my defection."


    At that moment, Urus came back. He walked in with his staff, looked at Tuor, blinked, and then returned to Sahshir.


    "What is it, Urus?" asked Sahshir.


    Urus smiled. "I''ve found what we''re looking for."


    Sahshir was silent for only a moment.


    "Lead on then, Urus," he said at last.


    Things were looking up.


    And then they were looking down again.


    It was a large outcropping of rock overlooking a vast body of water, now disturbed by a coming storm. Even now, Sahshir could see the dark clouds gathering. As if terrible foreboding events were to come. Even so, glancing at the left and then the right brought him to question Urus'' judgments.


    "Congratulations, Urus," said Sahshir, "you have found the sea."


    "It is not the sea, but below where we stand," said Urus, tapping with his staff. "A hole in the rock there leads into a cave. We looked in there, and you''ll like what we found." Then he moved forward, balanced his staff so it was upright, and let himself down.


    Sahshir peered after Urus and saw him disappear into the rock. Glancing back to Oresa and Tuor, he shrugged and tried his hand. Sure enough, a gap led into the rock with Urus inside. He was holding a sphere of white light from the moon''s spirit.


    Sahshir entered, and then he heard a cry. Turning, he saw Oresa falling and caught her by the hand. Pulling her back up, he set her down. "Are you injured?"


    "Just a few scuffed knees," said Oresa, forming energies around a bloody shin. "I''m fine, thanks."


    Tuor landed behind them in one smooth movement and moved past Oresa into the cave. He examined it, and Sahshir did as well. It appeared to be a large round chamber, and in the far half was a large underground lake. An altar was rising out of the center of it. There appeared to be a candle that had long since gone out.


    "A shrine," mused Tuor. "They used to build these hidden places, always looking out to sea. That was before the Knights of the Coin began their crusades. They hunted down those who worshipped any deity save Coinfurth long ago."


    "Why would they do that?" asked Oresa.


    "Sorn was the subject of numerous battles between Calisha and Antion," said Tuor. "And they came to resent both nations. Suvvest the Great engineered its rise as a sovereign nation. One of his means of doing so was to root out all other gods.


    "I gather he wasn''t fond of Coinfurth either. But he thought his service easier to achieve practical ends with."


    "I sense power, great power here," said Sahshir, feeling the low thrumming in his mind. "Many of the spirits congregate within this place."


    Urus, meanwhile, approached the altar. He drew up some dust from here, or what looked like dust. He smelled it. "Incense...


    "Someone was here recently."


    "Who comes before us?" asked a murmuring voice from the water. Out of the water came many humanoid figures, though many had features of animals. They seemed to be made of the water, and they swirled around them.


    "Water spirits," mused Urus. "Some of these are as far away as the Isle of Camas." S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Camas," said Oresa, voice wistful. "I remember that adventure. Remember how high the southern mountains were? I remember Isamu wanted to climb them before you talked him out.


    "I wonder how the people there are doing since we drove out those charlatans? The ones pretending to be agents of the Fish King to scare people."


    "I believe Sorn invaded them," said Tuor. "It became a battleground between House Suvvest and Dinis in the most recent conflict."


    Oresa looked crestfallen at that.


    Sahshir, not to be deterred, moved forward and raised the Sword of Order. "I am King Sahshir of Western Kalthak; I seek an audience with the spirits of this place."


    "You are known to us," said the voice of the spirits. "What is it you desire?"


    "I seek to know why a spirit gathered a vast mist over Suvera," said Sahshir. "And also to know who did as much."


    "The people of Sorn believe they comprehend all," came the reply. "They do not. Yet their ignorance diminishes us. We are weakened."


    "What do you mean?" asked Oresa.


    "The villages to the south of us once worshipped us and gave tribute," said the spirit. "Now, however, they have ceased their worship. Soldiers of Sorn have interfered with our rituals, commanded they worship Coinfurth alone.


    "Now, our ability to manifest is waning."


    "Your actions were timed alongside the flight of many lizardfolk," said Sahshir. "Was this mere coincidence?"


    "The Fish King knows all that is hidden," replied the voice. "His thoughts extend beyond the moment to all things, and he knows them as they are."


    "Did he communicate with you?" asked Sahshir.


    "His voice is in every lapping of the waves," replied the voice. "It is in the rustling of the trees. All things in this world are but the merest fragment of his power. None may understand him, yet all know him in the darkness of their minds."


    "Why?" asked Sahshir, taking the answer as a yes.


    "It is unknown and unknowable," replied the spirits.


    Sahshir was beginning to see why the people of Sorn preferred to pretend these spirits did not exist. He disliked them already. "Do you know anything useful? Or are you just wasting our time?"


    "Time is an illusion," replied the voice. "There is only what is."


    "Is there an audience with the Fish King for us?" asked Sahshir. "And are you the one who grants it? And if so, why?"


    This question annoys the spirits and takes them off guard. Obviously, they preferred to keep people running around for a while. "...We may. It is our power to communicate with the Lord of the Unknown. However, to do so, you must perform a task."


    Sahshir almost threw their words back at them and told them that there was no future, only what is. So what they were asking was quite impossible. But that seemed both petty and unproductive and was likely to annoy them. "And what is that?"


    "The God, Typhos, is rising in power," said the spirits. "Many monsters that long cowered have been coming forth and massed in the marshes of Munsuen. Among the worst of them is the giant, Myosh. He has enslaved the spirits of the land and has filled the rivers with corpses.


    "Slay him, and you shall have what you desire."


    Sahshir nodded. "So be it."


    The spirits vanished. Sahshir looked to Tuor. The man was examining some statues that had escaped Sahshir''s notice. He seemed to be admiring their artistry. "Tuor."


    "Yes?" said Tuor. "What is it?"


    "Do you know who this Myosh is?" asked Sahshir.


    "Actually, yes," said Tuor, seemingly pleased he had asked. "Myosh is a brother of Grakus, who Sahshir killed in battle in Zigilus. One of many. He was known for devouring vast numbers of people and animals alike. Eventually, he was pursued and fled far abroad.


    "It seems he settled here."


    "I remember you and Grakus got on well, to say the least," noted Sahshir.


    "A professional association, I assure you," said Tuor.


    Sahshir looked at him for a moment. "...Of course."


    "Isn''t there a peaceful solution to this?" asked Oresa.


    "Typhos is our enemy," said Sahshir. "We should gain permission to kill this Myosh from the Merchant Lords, then wipe him out."


    "But..." Oresa faltered. "I don''t want to kill anyone?"


    "Then, don''t follow us," replied Sahshir simply. "You are under no obligation to go into battle if you are incapable of it." At some point, she was going to have to make a decision. He was surprised she''d put it off as long as she had.


    Then he felt a biting pain and clutched his arm. It was as though his body was trying to tear itself to pieces. Yet he used the Sword of Order to calm the unnatural disease.


    "Sahshir?" asked Oresa.


    Sahshir shrugged. "It''s nothing, just my body. Nothing worth worrying over.


    "We''ll meet up with Isamu and Cadas and make our plans."

 Chapter Seventeen: Incitement

    Isamu and Cadas had been left behind.


    Instead of seeking out the spirits, they watched Garrick sit in an office. The dust elf was constantly flipping through pages. Occasionally, he would turn, take hold of a quill, and write something in another book. It was not fun, and Isamu kept glancing out the window as they waited. He''d thought about playing cards, but Cadas always won.


    "What are you looking at?" asked Isamu, glancing at Garrick.


    Garrick did not look up. "The documentation for this office''s finances. There are a great many inconsistencies here."


    Isamu wasn''t interested, but he was even less interested in silence. "What kind of inconsistencies?"


    Garrick looked up. "They have been taxing the people here a great deal. Actually, the rates are far higher than they are contractually obligated to. Indeed, far more than they are meant to."


    "Why would they keep this record if it incriminates them?" asked Cadas.


    "Even criminals need contracts," said Garrick. "Without them, they would be unable to operate without constant infighting. More importantly, I doubt anyone has been enforcing these rules in years."


    "Why not?" asked Isamu.


    "These people are not considered a priority," said Garrick. "Many regard them as little more than a cheap labor source, for whom there are plenty more." He shut the book. "Still, this by itself will not be enough."


    "What do you mean?" asked Isamu.


    Garrick shrugged with nonchalant indifference, and Isamu didn''t like it. "Even if I were to bring proof of the abuses, they would not be arrested. In fact, I''d be surprised if anyone raised an eyebrow, let alone suffered any consequences. The officials who gave them these positions did it with the expectation they''d do just this."


    "But they''re priests!" said Isamu. When he''d seen that one before, he''d assumed he was a particularly bad one. How was it possible that an entire nation''s priesthood could be this horrible?


    If Baltoth ever conquered this place, the executioners would have a field day. There''d be crucifixions from dawn till dust for weeks, and every one of them would be deserved.


    "And that makes them law-abiding citizens?" asked Garrick.


    "In Calisha, an official who acted like this would be..." Isamu tried to think about what Baltoth would do. "Well, they''d be crucified if Baltoth was feeling lenient."


    "In Sorn, it is not the custom to punish criminals by raising them on a cross," said Garrick with wry humor. "We much prefer to raise them up with promotions."


    "So what are you going to do?" asked Isamu, liking this place less by the minute. He doubted Garrick had come out here if he didn''t have a plan.


    Garrick seemed to think about it. "...In this situation, all contracts are effectively null and void."


    "What do you mean?" asked Isamu.


    "No one involved in this sorry situation is fulfilling their obligations. Let alone their obligations in the social contract," said Garrick. "And therefore, an argument could be made that we are not obligated to consider them. As such, using proper channels need not apply."


    "So we''re going to break the rules?" asked Isamu.


    "Of course not; Knights of the Coin follow every rule and regulation, even if others do not," said Garrick. "To break such a rule, publically, would be a violation. One from which our reputation as impartial lawyers would never recover."


    "So you''ll let them get away with this?" asked Isamu.


    Garrick drew up the book he''d been writing and put it on the table near Isamu. "...I''d love to see all these people hung, but I cannot. I''d love to take these finances to the recently established printing press. From there, I ask them to produce several copies. Naturally, I''d use that bag of gold over there to pay for it. I have a subordinate, Finn Osman, whom you can find at the Headquarters of the Knights of the Coin. I am certain that he would carry it out if given this plan, even without specific orders.


    "Of course, this is all theoretical since I must do nothing. It is a shame these findings are not printed on every street corner. It would no doubt pressure the merchants to reign on their own. And that is assuming the ordinary people didn''t take matters into their own hands. But my hands are tied.


    "Unfortunately, I cannot afford to break the rules in the letter.


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    "Still, I suppose I''ll take a walk. I find that doing so often clears my head. Please do not do anything I wouldn''t do." And with that, he stood, turned his back on them, and walked to the door. "I think I shall take a long, long walk. You can certainly go someplace if you wish. Depending on how things turn out on that walk, I may find a reason to ignore your previous error in judgment."


    And he strode out without another word.


    Isamu glanced at Cadas. The big man eyed him warily. Isamu decided he didn''t really have a problem with Garrick''s plan. It would also save him the hassle of getting his legs broken. "Cadas, wait for Urus and Oresa; I''ll handle this."


    "Are you sure about this," asked Cadas. "Mob violence can get pretty ugly. It was a big problem in Drennish, with Lord Baelgost always gone."


    Isamu grabbed the book and moved to the door. "Don''t worry. These people deserve it, anyway. Tell Urus where I''ve gone, will you?"


    Then he headed out.


    Running at top speed, without waiting for the others, Isamu made it to the gates in a few hours. Although it left him tired and sweaty, he approached the gate. The guards barred it, and he noted they wore a different armor than last time. It was gilded, and they held spears. Their helms hid almost their entire face, and they had men with crossbows on top. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Hold where you are, traveler," said the guard. "If you wish to pass, you must pay the toll of one silver."


    "I just came through here," said Isamu, annoyed at this. "A day or two ago, I think."


    "True enough, but that was in the company of King Abdul Sahshir, a guest of Sorn," said the man with a shrug. "You are no longer and must pay the toll."


    "I am a demigod," said Isamu incredulously. Didn''t divine blood mean anything to these people? "Don''t you make exceptions for half-gods?"


    "Well, that changes things," said the guard with a shrug. "The toll will be three silver."


    "What?" said Isamu.


    "Priests are generally far richer than ordinary people, so we tax them more," said the guard with a shrug. "You''re not an ordinary person, and we don''t have rules for demigods since they''re so rare. So I''m counting you as a priest."


    "...I don''t have any money on me," said Isamu. He wished he was back in Kalthak; you didn''t need money there. It''s just the strength to defend people from bandits and get a free meal.


    "That''s not our problem," said the guard. "If your order doesn''t have the sense to use your position for profit, we''ve got no sympathy."


    "I''m on an errand..." Isamu realized he couldn''t blab about it. If he told the wrong person, Garrick could have serious problems. He supposed he could scale the wall a little way down if it came to it. "Look, isn''t there some sort of exception you make for emergencies?"


    "Usually, we charge more for those," admitted the guard. "People in emergencies don''t haggle as much. It''s a nice way to make a profit."


    "You haggle?" asked Isamu. Calisha had set tolls and prices. "So you''re telling me that if I man was running for his life, you''d force him to pay extra."


    "Yes," said the guard. "Unless there was a price on his head worth more than that. Then I''d turn him in.


    "Wait, do I know him?"


    "Why should that matter?" asked Isamu.


    "Well, if I know him and he''s a friend, I might let him through," said the guard. "If he''s an enemy, I''d want to rough him up a bit before I turned him in. It makes a big difference."


    "You people are sick," said Isamu.


    "That''s not my problem," said Finn. "Oh, and we also haggle in desperate cases if there is no price. If you tell them the toll is higher than it actually is, sometimes they just pay up and don''t ask questions."


    "That''s outrageous," said Isamu. "How do you sleep at night?"


    "In soldier''s quarters," said the guard simply. "If I make enough money, I could live in luxury with lots of nubile women. Thus, the tolls. Are you paying or what?"


    There was no way Isamu was paying this guy. He could beat him and his men up. Then he''d scale up the walls, beat up the crossbowmen, and be into the city in a flash. No, that would cause a stir, and while Isamu normally didn''t care, a stir could get them killed.


    "...I''ll come back later," said Isamu after a moment. Scaling the wall in secret, it was. Then he realized he needed to find out where the Knights of the Coin headquarters was. "Still, before I go up, can you direct me to the Headquarters for the Knights of the Coin?"


    "You''re looking at it," said the guard.


    "...You are Finn?" asked Isamu. Or was he bluffing?


    The guard took off his helm to reveal a bald, bearded man. He smiled, revealing perfect teeth.


    "Yep, Captain of the Southern Gate at your service. There are other HQs, of course, but for someone traveling with Garrick, I''m as good as them. Why are you looking for me?"


    Isamu raised the book. And he realized he didn''t fully trust this guy. "Garrick wants these printed and distributed."


    Finn took the book and flipped through it. "Hmm, well, this is going to be fun. I expect we''ll get a pay raise and get to crack some heads once we send out this." He glanced at a very tall woman with auburn hair. "Lauren, take over here." Then he looked to Isamu. "You can head back."


    "No way," said Isamu flatly. He wasn''t that dumb; everyone in this place was a mercenary. "I''m not letting you walk off with that book without keeping an eye on you."


    Finn laughed and began to walk. "Fair enough, and smart too. Follow behind; I''ll show you the way. I''ve already made all the arrangements."


    "Why?" asked Isamu as he chased after him. "Were you expecting this?"


    "Garrick figured out what he''d need others to do for this anyway," said Finn.


    "What''s your association with Garrick, anyway?" asked Isamu. He wondered how Garrick, the closest thing to a good man, fell in with this scoundrel.


    "When I was a boy, he took me into his company and taught me to fight," said Finn. "That was after the rest of my family had died because of that bastard Kaba. Let''s head on in. I''ll read through the documentation, figure out what to post, and we''ll start some fires."


    Isamu paused. "You do know that the people you incriminate are going to want you dead after you do this, right?"


    Finn smiled. "I''m looking forward to it."


    Isamu was so sick of Sorn.

 Chapter Eighteen: The Marshes of Munsuen

    Going to Munsuen was delayed upon Sahshir''s return.


    They''d had to do negotiations that required his input, such as meeting up with Isamu and Cadas. He was not given any satisfactory explanation for what they had been doing. Even so, given who they were fighting, Sahshir chose to take Isamu with them.


    Munsuen was a salt marsh. The stench of it assailed the nose, and the ground was of mud and rotting vegetation. The trees were slumped and had many twisting roots. Vines fell from their boughs, and ugly white flowers were on them.


    "So this is Munsuen. It looks like hell," said Isamu.


    "I think you''ll find it more than lives up to the reputation," said Tuor. "Ages ago, a Cult of Zigildrazia lived in these regions. They would raid the surrounding lands for sacrifices to their Goddess. They lure young people to them with promises of pleasures beyond measure.


    "Often, they ended up as sacrifices if they didn''t become part of the raiders."


    "So what happened to them?" asked Oresa.


    "The Knights declared Zigildrazia''s church a negative profit organization," said Urus.


    "What does that mean?" asked Isamu.


    "The Knights of the Coin hold that life is the search for profit in all things," said Tuor. "However, they also maintain that profit is not measured purely in money. So a man with a vast fortune may be poor in their eyes, and an ordinary man rich.


    "To be declared a nonprofit organization. It is to be declared an entity that contributes nothing to any cause. It generally caused to be broken up. Being declared a negative profit organization is to be a parasite. One who is detrimental to profit for all involved. It is usually only done before a Commerce Crusade.


    "The Knights of the Coin fought them for years. They were battling, converting, and killing the servants of Zigildrazia. Eventually, the cults lost. Their idols were torn down, and their religion sent into hiding."


    "When was this?" asked Urus.


    "Alkela could explain that much," mused Sahshir.


    Alkela, who had accompanied them, motioned with her hands. Sahshir nodded. "It was back when Zigilus was at the height of its power. In those days, they sent Battlelusters to many repressed nations. They inspired them to serve Zigildrazia. When they found the people of this place, they were being overrun by satyrs.


    "Zigildrazia whipped the people into a frenzy. She allowed them to take pleasure in their desperate war against the satyrs. They fought with frenzy and fury, allowing the Knights of the Coin to regroup and defeat them. Then, they sought to spread Zigildrazia''s blessings in the days of peace afterward.


    "The Knights of the Coin felt threatened and sought to exterminate them."


    "Well, there are two sides to every story," said Urus.


    "And one of them is usually wrong," noted Sahshir.


    Tuor laughed as they began to walk into the forests. "Such zealous dismissal, Sahshir. You really should learn to accept other perspectives for their value."


    "You can''t possibly believe the words of a demon," said Sahshir.


    "Of course not, I believe nothing," said Tuor. "I merely feel that the beliefs of others can be used to achieve my ends. I can use it by understanding what they desire for my purposes."


    Alkela motioned, and Sahshir translated. "Zigildrazia created that style of thinking. So says Alkela."


    "It does not matter to me," said Tuor with a shrug. "We are nearing the village. They will tell us where to find Myosh."


    "Why are we even hunting Myosh?" asked Isamu. "Shouldn''t we consult Sen about this?"


    "Yeah, um, Sahshir, that seemed strange to me," said Oresa.


    "I sent a message to him; he knows what I am doing," said Sahshir.


    "But what if he thinks we should do something else?" asked Oresa.


    "I am taking action in my own way," said Sahshir. "Sen may do what he wishes."


    As it turned out, the village was walled by a stone wall about six feet high. At the gates were men with spears, and the people were covered in muck. People were tending to fields of plants grown in very wet conditions. As they neared the gates, a man with one eye peered at them. "Are you warriors? Were you sent by Suvera?"


    "In a manner of speaking," said Sen. "We are here to hunt Myosh, the giant."


    "Thank the gods," said the man. "I am Osbourne, the Chief of this place. We had thought we were forsaken. We sent requests for help to the Church, but..."


    "But what?" asked Sahshir.


    "We couldn''t pay the fee, and we haven''t been able to make our taxes recently," said Osbourne. "We told the Church that Myosh was raiding our fields! With that, it would be impossible to make up our tithe!"


    "What did they say?" asked Sahshir.


    "They just told us to make it happen," said Osbourne.


    There was dead silence.


    "What does that mean?" asked Oresa.


    "I don''t know!" said Osbourne. "The Church doesn''t do anything for the congregation anymore. They just make demands and cut off support for anyone who doesn''t reach them. Then, the priests make sermons about how great they are and give bribes to their friends.


    "This never happened when the Knights of the Coin ran things."


    "Who do you believe dispatched us?" asked Sahshir.


    "You are Knights of the Coin?" asked Osbourne.


    "We are acting on behalf of their Grandmaster," said Tuor. "Now, where is Myosh?"


    "We''re not sure," said Osbourne. "He hides within the depths of the marshes, and anyone who ventures in rarely comes out. Never if it''s night. He''s been carrying off people day and night from the villages around here¡ªhim and the satyr tribes that serve him.


    "The Knights of the Coin almost wiped them out, but now we''ve got to deal with Church mercenaries."


    Sahshir glanced at Tuor. "Tuor, you know many rituals. Can you locate Myosh?"


    "I believe so," said Tuor. "I will need the Sword of Order and some of your blood as a focus."


    Sahshir drew his sword, drew off his glove, and ran the blade along his palm. Clenching the blade, he let go, spun it around, and offered it to Tuor. "Take it."


    Oresa moved forward and began to heal Sahshir''s hand. As she did, Tuor raised the Sword of Order skyward. "Now, we shall see what we may find."


    They waited as a light shot into the sky. The people of the village looked on at them in awe. Sahshir glanced at Osbourne, then back to Tuor. "What is it?"


    "Zigildrazia is at work," said Tuor, lowering the sword. "Many of the people who were taken are alive and have been taken captive.


    "And I have Myosh''s location."


    Tuor handed the sword back to Sahshir, who sheathed it. "Lead on, Tuor." Tuor, however, looked distracted and distant. "What is it?"


    "I have not wielded this blade in a long time," said Tuor. "Still, the spell will wane, and I must lead you."


    And so they set out.


    The marsh only got worse from here, however. Tuor led them along strange paths, and the muck clung to their legs and splashed onto their bodies. Oresa looked particularly miserable with her bare legs. "It''s all over my legs."


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    "What did you expect with that outfit?" asked Sahshir. He wondered how it was that she could travel in all that. Even Narcissa switched to more traditional armor.


    "It never was a problem for me before," said Oresa. "My powers, um... well, they''re a bit complicated. I was blessed by the spirits in gratitude to Father''s ruling. It was a gift for him doing such a good job."


    Tuor halted and raised a hand. Everyone halted at once. "Wait."


    "What is it?" asked Sahshir.


    "Demons," said Tuor, drawing up his nunchucks. "Stand ready!"


    Everyone drew their weapons, and Oresa looked more competent with hers. Still, this was not her ideal place. "Oresa, step back. Isamu and Cadas handle our left flank. Hold them where they are."


    And then they came.


    They were vast, shapeless monsters with blades, tentacles, and gaping mouths. They came from the water and out of the trees and from above. Sahshir cut down two in a blur, even as Isamu slashed them through. Urus sent his staff to land in a wide square, and lightning surged from his hands. As it did, Sahshir saw the spirit within it.


    The resulting lightning display destroyed a vast group of them, but the rest scattered.


    Moving back and forth, Sahshir slashed down one enemy after another. Tuor moved in a blur, striking down all who came at him. Then Sahshir glanced back to where Oresa was backing off. Suddenly, something emerged from the swamp behind her. It was a beast with black skin and horns, a satyr with red eyes. In a flash, his hands reached out and came at her.


    Cadas leaped between her and struck it, the two fighting hand to hand. However, the beast threw him down. Oresa staggered back in fear, dropping her sword, and the beast surged at her. In an instant, Oresa''s cry was cut short.


    "Stay where you are, humans!" snarled the satyr.


    "You, let the girl go!" said Isamu.


    "Stand where you are, or I''ll break her neck!" said the demon.


    Sahshir calculated how fast he''d have to move mentally and made plans. And then Isamu went forward anyway. His blade glowed with a bright light and sent a wave toward them both.


    "You bastard!" roared Isamu.


    "Imbecile!" snapped Sahshir, interposing himself between the wave. Summoning the power of the Sword of Order, there was a flash, and the satyr flinched. The wave evaporated, and Sahshir brought around his sword. Slicing the hand from the beast''s wrist, moving up, he plunged the blade through the creature''s head. Tearing it out, he turned to Isamu as Oresa fell to her knees. The body of the best faded to ash in a moment.


    "Sahshir, what the hell are you doing!" snapped Isamu.


    "I might ask you the same question," said Sahshir. "You nearly killed Oresa!" He saw most of the demons had been killed.


    "That attack was aimed at the satyr!" said Isamu.


    "It would have hit both of them, you idiotic brute!" snarled Sahshir.


    "I didn''t see you making any plans!" said Isamu.


    "Please, stop it, both of you!" said Oresa.


    "And you, Oresa, why didn''t you use your shield when Cadas was overwhelmed?" asked Sahshir. "Had the beast gone for him, he would be dead."


    "I... I didn''t think I could do it; I panicked-" said Oresa.


    "Enough," said Tuor. "We have no time for these arguments. Oresa, heal us, and be more careful next time."


    Sahshir let the matter go reluctantly. He was starting to think Isamu was more trouble than he was worth. In


    Instead, they examined the bodies and realized the land around them was subtly different. The hanging vines seemed to have thorns further down, and the sky was a reddish tinge above. The water let forth a stench like rotting bodies.


    And Sahshir could sense monstrous energies all around them. There were only a few of the beasts they faced. Worse still, more were coming out of the ground all around them. Visions came to Sahshir of more of the creatures mustering.


    "How did they sneak up on us?" asked Urus. "They should not have had it so easily?"


    "By using the natural counterbalance to Order, that of Chaos," said Tuor. "Typhos'' powers are this blade''s antithesis, so may avoid detection. Order cannot detect chaos, only its effects."


    "Yeah, well, stop with the nostalgia and lead on," said Isamu. "Oresa nearly got killed because of Sahshir!"


    "I seem to recall you endangered her nearly as much as the demon," said Sahshir.


    "Stop it, both of you," said Tuor. "We must move."


    "What''s the hurry?" asked Cadas.


    "I can sense many demons of Typhos coming toward us from all directions," said Tuor. "Yet their net is not yet complete; we need only slip through it." Turning, he glanced at the vines. "Here, scale up here, the branches will hide us."


    The climb-up needed to be fixed. Several of them cut their hands on the way up, and as they did, Sahshir could sense the beasts coming ever closer. Soon, vast numbers of them slithered past the trees. As they did, Oresa scarcely contained her breath.


    "So many," said Oresa.


    "How could Myosh have this many demons at his disposal?" murmured Tuor as satyrs came below. There was a vast shrieking as they came. "And why hadn''t he picked the surrounding area clean of life?"


    "Perhaps he wants a renewable resource," mused Urus. "These are, if I''m not mistaken, raishans. By not depopulating the surrounding villages, he can snatch one occasionally. In so doing, he has a constant source of souls to use.


    "I suspect Myosh has been here far longer than anyone has been aware. Likely, his operations were thought to be only wild animal attacks. Then later, as his influence affected the land, men became aware of that."


    Eventually, the creatures passed.


    "What are these things?" asked Isamu as he dropped down.


    Sahshir landed, ignoring the pain in his legs as he did. "One of those creatures, the tentacle beast, is a demon of Amysta. I remember I faced several of them in battle. What would it be doing here?"


    "Perhaps Amysta has designs of her own," mused Tuor.


    Alkela motioned, and Sahshir noticed it. "Alkela believes Amysta is almost certainly acting contrary to Zigildrazia''s interests. Her spirit has been seeking to regain its power over the domain of Lust for ages.


    "It is possible that she wants to have a standing army. When her cults eventually take serious root. She can then reinforce them with these raishans."


    "We should move on. The enemy has passed, but they will be back," said Tuor.


    On they went, and the sky became even redder. The vines seemed to grope at them with thorns forming the shape of claws. The water below them seemed almost like blood, and the dirt and grime seemed to be trying to suck them down. Then came the sound of running water, but it was like the moans of the dead.


    Looking at the water, Sahshir thought he saw dead faces. But when he reached down, there was nothing there.


    "What is this?" asked Oresa.


    "...The natural order deeper in the swamp is breaking down," mused Tuor. "Hell itself has entered into this domain. Amysta has indeed been clever."


    "Why would Sorn let this happen?" asked Isamu.


    "When the gods retreat from a realm, hell always seeks to take their place," mused Tuor.


    "What does that mean?" asked Isamu.


    "It means that only fools shut the gods out of their world unless they mean to serve hell," said Tuor.


    "It also means that this blade will be of little help locating enemies," said Sahshir. Then he reached out with his mind. Distantly, he could sense something out there. It was a living force that still subscribed to the rule of order. "I can sense Myosh, but I will no longer be able to detect any ambush. Stay keen."


    "Right, my eyes are peeled," said Oresa. "Um, maybe I should-"


    "Enough," said Tuor. "We should move on."


    And on they went.


    The water soon became pitch black, and serpents could be seen swimming around them. The trees grew great thorns, while the leaves seemed like blades. The sky now seemed to be an inferno above them, and wherever they went, a haze of red seemed about them. The wind was like the howling of tortured souls.


    At last, they came to a cave.


    It stood at the very center of a great lake, and the only path to it was a series of black stepping stones. Looking beneath the surface, Sahshir could see skulls at the bottom. Hell had taken hold of this domain, and more demons must have been drawn through with every day.


    Moving across the stones, they came to the mouth of the cave. It was just tall enough for someone to go into it. Yet Sahshir sensed from it a power deep within, one that he did not want to face directly.


    "This cave..." said Tuor. "This is where Myosh dwells. I can sense him within."


    "And he can sense us, from the looks of things," said Urus.


    Sahshir glanced back and saw that the tentacled monsters were alongside many black-skinned satyrs. They wielded swords and spears. One of them moved forward, sharp teeth smiling. "You humans will pay the price for your intrusion into Lord Myosh''s domain! We shall consume you!"


    An arrow caught him in the throat, and he fell to dust. More arrows fell into those around them as they began to wade across.


    "These satyrs are not like others I''ve seen," noted Urus, firing arrow after arrow.


    "I know," said Tuor. "They are not satyrs at all, but demons that once were satyrs made manifest. No doubt, they were harvested from the domain of the Unborn God.


    "Many demons do."


    The creatures were slowly but surely making their way across the lay. Urus spent every arrow and hurled his staff instead. It broke apart, separating into a line and sending lightning between them. The bolts burned many to a crisp and kept the others back.


    "What now?" asked Cadas.


    "Isamu..." said Oresa.


    "Guess we''ll just have to cut our way out," said Isamu with a smile.


    "I''d much prefer to just kill them all," mused Sahshir, deciding he''d had enough of Isamu for one lifetime.


    "Indeed, that would decrease hell''s influence in this region, wouldn''t it?" Tuor mused.


    "Isamu, go ahead and kill Myosh," said Sahshir, taking back his sword from Tuor. "He''ll be in that cave."


    "What, are you sure?" asked Isamu.


    "It is of no concern," said Sahshir. "And I have no need to engage him directly anyway. Go, by my command. I have confidence you''ll handle it."


    Isamu smirked. "Right."


    Then he rushes in. Alkela gave Sahshir a flat look that Sahshir ignored. Finally, Alkela smiled.


    "Oresa, I have more use for your shields than your sword. Use them to guard our flanks. Cadas, Alkela, you are our reserves.


    "Tuor, you, Urus, and I will be the front line."


    "And what happens if Isamu dies?" asked Tuor.


    Sahshir gave Tuor a flat look, and Tuor took the point.


    "Be wary," said Urus. "My lightning is at its end."


    Drawing back his staff, he took a stance, and the monsters approached them. Forming the line, Sahshir looked at Urus. "Tell me this: How do you control the lightning?"


    "My grandmother was a storm spirit in human form," said Urus. "I''ve learned the knack from her."


    And then the battle began in earnest.


    The creatures came at them in waves and formed a line; they fought them as one. Urus'' staff moved in a blur. The strikes of Tuor''s nunchucks smashed limbs and sent waves of ash flowing. Sahshir leaped back and forth, striking down all who came. At the same time, Oresa raised shields over their flanks, funneling them toward them.


    It was obviously putting her under a great deal of strain¡ªhowever, that way, not Sahshir''s concern at the moment. Behind him, he sensed Isamu descending into the darkness of Myosh deep within. The beast emerged, and their battle was met.


    Several monsters scaled over the shields and were met by Alkela and Cadas. The two fought with brutal power. For a time, the two strove against one another, and as they did, the waters flowed in waves. Winds ripped through the trees, hurting his ears as he cut them down.


    Then, all of a sudden, everything stopped.


    Myosh''s life force vanished. The cave shuddered and began to collapse as unholy energy flowed away. The demons were washed away from reality like filth in a swift-flowing river, and the sky turned blue. As it did, Sahshir sheathed his sword.


    Oresa fell to her knees, gasping for breath as Isamu exited the cave.


    "What happened?" asked Urus.


    "Well, I went down there, and it turned out Myosh had some plan to take over the world," said Isamu.


    "From a swamp?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes, he was performing ritual sacrifices to Amysta, not Zigildrazia," said Isamu. "And was hoping to gain her favor and be bestowed her blessing. Once he did that, he hoped to seize her direct descendant in Antion and use her as Amysta''s mortal vessel.


    "Apparently, he also had agents among the lizardfolk. They were behind those rituals."


    "So what happened?" asked Oresa.


    "Well, first, he sicced a bunch of boring guys in ridiculous outfits on me, and I killed them," said Isamu. "Then he used their life force as a sacrifice and gained Amysta''s blessing. We fought for a bit, and he used some weird ritual to take on a new demonic form.


    "Apparently, it was way more powerful than usual. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Anyway, then I killed him, nothing all that great. If I had a coin for every time I''ve run into a bandit with delusions of grandeur... Well, there wouldn''t be a pauper left in the world."


    "His head," said Sahshir.


    "What?" said Isamu.


    "Did you get his head?" asked Sahshir. "We were instructed to retrieve it with the Fish King for our audience."


    "I uh..." Isamu shifted. "I may have forgotten it."


    "Very well," said Sahshir. "We''ll retrieve it, and then-"


    Suddenly, his vision blurred, and he fell to one knee. Agony filled him, and he heard exclamations of concern. Then, suddenly, he fell and remembered nothing more than that.

 Chapter Nineteen: Revelations Hurt

    Sahshir awoke.


    At once, he became aware of his surroundings. The Sword of Order was clenched in one hand but sheathed, and he was lying in a soft bed. Too soft; in fact, it was uncomfortable for him, and his neck ached. Sitting up, he glanced to one side and saw that boy from before.


    Makas Kaba, wasn''t it? The boy seemed to be cutting up several different herbs on a table near him. He looked at Sahshir. "So, you''re awake then?"


    "Yes, I am," said Sahshir. "Where are we?"


    "I''m Makas Kaba, and you''re in my home," he paused. "Well, Sen''s home by contract. But mine too."


    "How did I come here?" asked Sahshir.


    "Your friends brought you in here," said Makas. "That disease of yours was flaring up and getting much worse. Fortunately, I knew some of the herbs necessary to help with it. They tried paying a Priest of Coinfurth, but their magics weren''t any good for some reason."


    Sahshir thought something was wrong with that question. "I don''t have friends."


    "Well, whoever they were, they wanted to see you," said Makas. She cut more herbs and then put them into a boiling pot as he did. "You should be grateful for my brother putting you up here. He didn''t have to, especially with how you threw him in prison."


    Sahshir gazed at him. "Do you know the things your brother has done?"


    "Sure, but it''s nothing anyone else is doing," said Makas.


    "It is," said Sahshir. "Even if that were true, a wrong action remains wrong, even if everyone is doing it." Then he rose. "Thank you for your hospitality." Looking at one hand, he saw he was wearing white clothes. "Though I must wonder why you provided it?"


    "My brother respects you," said Makas. "I don''t see why. He doesn''t respect anyone."


    "That is the root of his weakness," replied Sahshir flatly. "If you hold nothing as valuable, you treat everything as worthless." He paused. "Where are my armor and clothes?"


    "Over there," said Makas. "It''s all there if you need it. We had to swap out some of the clothes. It was all torn up and fouled by dark magics."


    "My thanks," said Sahshir. "I ask you to leave me. I must dress now."


    "That disease," said Makas. "I''m normally able to heal things like that. And I''ve got some people in my Healers Guilds who are very skilled. But none of them could even make a dent in the affliction.


    "Who did you upset to get that kind of plague?"


    "No one," said Sahshir. "It is a family inheritance."


    Makas nodded, then left.


    Sahshir dressed in his clothes and armor and donned his mask. Sen''s mansions were a place of narrow halls and small windows. There were no servants and rooms upon empty rooms. Many of them were covered in layers of dust. They didn''t look to have had anyone in them for years. It seemed a lonely and desolate place, just like everything in Sorn. All the crystal chandeliers in the world couldn''t hide it.


    Though there were a lot of books, which was always nice. They were entering one of the lower rooms. And he found his comrades, bar Isamu and Cadas, speaking together.


    "Sahshir, you''re awake," said Urus, standing up. "Thank Baltoth.


    "How long was I out?" asked Sahshir.


    "It''s been a day since you passed out," said Tuor. "We thought you would lose you there for a time." He clasped Sahshir by the shoulder.


    "Have you met the spirits?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes, the head was delivered, and we have been granted our audience," said Tuor. "We have returned to Suvera to clear things with Sen Kaba."


    "Good," said Sahshir, wanting to get this over with. "Where is the meeting to take place?"


    "Three days from now, in the sea depths," said Tuor.


    "Very well then," said Sahshir. "Make contact with Kaba; we will bring our prisoner with us as a show of goodwill."


    "Unfortunately, that may be difficult," said Tuor. "Kaba has not been idle. He has been meeting with the other Merchant Lords, and I fear they plan for war."


    "War?" asked Oresa. "How is he going to fight? They''re underwater."


    "That''s why they are making plans," said Tuor. "We now have a minimal amount of time."


    "Go to him and try to get him to stall," said Sahshir. "I''ll deal with the Fish King."


    And he walked toward the door; Urus rose to go after him. Sahshir was caught in the hall as he fell to one knee.


    "Are you certain you should be moving in your condition?" asked Urus.


    "I am the leader, and there is no other I trust to go in my stead," said Sahshir, opening the door and walking through. Beyond were Isamu and Cadas as Alkela fell in behind him. "As I said, there is no other I trust to go in my stead. Fall in, all of you. I must find Nagos."


    "You''ll be able to find him near one of the taverns with the lizardfolk girl," said Tuor.


    "What do you mean?" asked Sahshir.


    "Apparently, he talked Kaba into letting her walk free alongside him," said Tuor. "He''s been having her show him around the city as a guide. We suspect the idea was to destroy the aura of mystery about things."


    "What of the cult of Zigildrazia?" asked Sahshir. "And those creatures of Amysta."


    "Alkela believes that it was only a cult of Amysta acting on her behalf," said Tuor, nodding to the girl. "She uses many of the same rituals as Zigildrazia. And Alkela has noticed several telltale signs on closer inspection."


    "I''ll speak to Nagos about it soon," decided Sahshir.


    Sahshir left them behind shortly and found the place where Nagos was using the Sword of Order. It was better than some of the taverns, but at the same time, not the finest. As he entered, a man brushed past him with a paper, bringing it to another.


    "Look at this!" he said, sounding furious.


    "What is it?" asked the man, taking it.


    "A record of finances from the priests sent to rule over the indentured servants!" said the first. "They raised taxes three times this year, and they''ve been using it for this!"


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    "Those bastards," said the second, shaking visibly. "What are we going to do about this?"


    "We can''t do anything; the city guard will crackdown on us if we try anything," said another. "And even if we do, it won''t make any difference. There will be a new priest after them."


    "You can''t think like that," said Nagos, approaching from a table. Near him was the lizard girl.


    "Hmm, what do you mean, Nagos?" asked the man. How did Nagos get on a first-name basis here? He''d only been here a week or two.


    "If you think that nothing will ever change, nothing will change," said Nagos. "You need to do your best to get your goal, wait for an opportunity, and do what you can." Then he moved up to Sahshir. "Hey, Sahshir, it''s been a while."


    "That it has, Nagos," said Sahshir. "I see you''ve been busy."


    "Yes, well, I figured I''d get Amasara to show me around the city," said Nagos with a shrug. "I''ve been looking for a guide who can tell me how ordinary people have it."


    "So you raided the prison?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, it got her out," admitted Nagos. "And by familiarizing people with her, we''re decreasing the chance of a real war."


    "Have you met anyone who used to know her?" asked Sahshir.


    "Oh, come on, Sahshir, don''t speak about Amasar like she''s not in the room?" asked Nagos.


    Sahshir looked to Amasara. "...Have you shown him anyone you used to know."


    The response hurt the ears to hear.


    "No, apparently, the transformation is sort of like reincarnation," said Nagos quickly. "They physically become a human, and then when they transform back, the memories go. They only have a vague familiarity with things not relevant to their mission.


    "Still, she''s told me many interesting things about her people."


    "Such as?" asked Sahshir.


    "It turns out that the lizardfolk and other creatures of the Fish King thrive on the unknown," said Nagos. "They draw strength from the blank spots in people''s knowledge. The more things people don''t understand, the more powerful their race is.


    "In the beginning, when mortals knew nothing, they were all-powerful. But as we came to understand things more, they had to retreat to the dark places of the universe."


    "Then, gaining knowledge hurts them?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, yeah, but so does losing knowledge," said Nagos. "The good news is that people are all ignorant of something. For instance, Sorn knows a lot more about how people work now. Still, the upper classes have no understanding of those beneath them. So that ignorance gives the lizardfolk room to operate in."


    "Then what of the books?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, fear of the unknown is an inherent thing everybody grapples with," said Nagos. "It''s heavily focused on the Fish King''s texts and. It sort of builds on them. Combined with other horrors that creep to mind, it''s incredibly stressful to read. The resulting fear thus feeds the lizardfolk and helps them maintain their dimension."


    Sahshir considered what else he had learned. "What would happen if the unknown were to decrease greatly?"


    "Well, if it got awful, they might have to abandon their cities and flee further into the unknown," mused Nagos.


    "What of the Fish King? How does he fit into all this?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, the lizardfolk were once ruled by the Fish King. That was back when all was unknown and in darkness," said Nagos. "They called this period the Fog of Creation.


    "In those days, they could go anywhere. They could do anything, and they didn''t take the form of lizards at all. As mortals began to understand the universe better, they had to take on a physical form. The Fish King did first and went to sleep to dream, and the lizardfolk came into existence.


    "They believe that someday...


    "What?" He looked to Amasara, who whispered something into his ear. "Oh right, well, they believe that the Fish King will soon awaken. When he does, the world will end, and all the mortals will be killed. While they go to their afterlife, the universe shall be unknown again. The Fog of Creation will return. Then they can return to their old forms, but even more terrible and powerful."


    "Wait, why would it be happening soon?" asked Sahshir, feeling he already knew.


    "Translating the Fish King''s texts damaged the foundations of the unknown," said Nagos. "So the lizardfolk are being pressed ever harder than before. If the unknown completely disappears, they will as well. So the Fish King has to awaken before then." Nagos realized where Sahshir was going. "Oh, I think Kaba just doomed the world by trying to save it."


    Sahshir put his face in his hands. "...I really hate that man."


    How was it possible that Sen could get even worse?


    It was a question Sahshir contemplated a few hours later.


    Sahshir was meditating along the pier, watching the sea. There was a stillness in the air. Isamu was trying and failing to throw his sword into the air and balance it on his palm. He hadn''t succeeded yet, and he''d broken his arm twice. Finally, he gave up and moved up to Sahshir.


    "So what is the plan here?" asked Isamu.


    "We are to wait here for the Fish King''s herald," said Sahshir. "Once he arrives, we will descend with the girl and return her." He looked to Nagos. "From there, you will have your meeting."


    "Oh good," said Nagos. "It''s been a while since I talked with him. I wonder if he''ll meet us personally."


    "Why exactly are we seeking an audience with him anyway?" asked Isamu. "Couldn''t we just beat him up?"


    "We''re going to establish a dialogue and attempt to make a truce of sorts," said Sahshir. "I''ve convinced Sen to let us take the risk. So we stand some semblance of a chance of not ending the world."


    "What do you think Sen would do?" asked Nagos.


    "Probably behave as though the Fish King was a defeated power," mused Sahshir. "Or worse, try to cheat him."


    "To what end are we even asking for a truce?" asked Urus. "They aren''t attacking us? It''s Sen who has been striking at his power."


    "Do you want the Fish King to arise tens of thousands of years from now?" asked Nagos. "Or in a few dozen?"


    "Tens of thousands," said Urus.


    "Precisely," said Sahshir. "Our goal here is to come up with terms by which both sides can abide to ensure they need not conflict."


    "You never struck me as the type to negotiate, Sahshir," said Isamu.


    "I have fought gods," said Sahshir. "That does not mean I like my chances."


    "Garrick," said Isamu, glancing at the Knight. "I''m guessing you''re the official representative."


    "Yes," said Garrick. "I am here as the official representative of the Church of Coinfurth. Naturally, they must be the ones to speak with a god-like the Fish King, on behalf of mortals. Ordinarily, they would send someone else. Fortunately, House Suvvest regards this as a suicide mission.


    "I didn''t even run into any assassins on my way here."


    "No one else wanted the job?" asked Oresa. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes, and I expect Suvvest likes the idea of me never returning," said Garrick.


    At that point, a huge, bald man rushed toward them. Sahshir remembered seeing him among Garrick''s men during the Second War of Power. "Garrick!"


    "Ah, Finn, you''ve returned. What news?" asked Garrick.


    "I''ve managed to get the fire brigade together as you requested and arranged for the mass," said Finn.


    "Mass?" asked Isamu.


    "Yes, I had some contacts suggest a particular course of action to the High Priest. I felt that he ought to send out his priests to do a great deal of preaching," said Garrick. "To stir up people''s emotions with the recent trouble with the Fish King."


    "How will that help?" asked Isamu.


    Garrick smiled, and it disturbed Sahshir. Something was about to go very badly for someone. "It will help me quite a bit.


    "Coincidently, I suggested that Sen Kaba order most of the city guard to the wharves in case of treachery."


    "And the fire brigade?" asked Isamu.


    At that moment, a building burst into flame as sounds of breaking glass and shouts of fury could be heard. The Priest of Coinfurth rushed around the bend from before. Soon behind him came a mob of enraged citizens with knives and axes. "Help! Help me, please!"


    One of the guards, whom Isamu had addressed as Finn, stepped before him and drew his sword. The mob and the priest stopped. "How much are you paying me?"


    The mob took the hint, and so did the priest.


    "No, no, please!" screamed the priest.


    And then the mob was on him.


    "Kill him! Break his bones! Take his wallet!" screamed the crowd as they began to stab him repeatedly. The fire brigade got to work on the building while several screams radiated from the streets.


    "Well, mobs can get very violent, you know," said Garrick.


    Behind him, having finished stabbing the man to death, people started stabbing eachother. Apparently, they disagreed about who would get to steal his silk garments. The argument was rendered moot a moment later when someone got cut with a knife, and blood poured over the silk.


    "I hope the herald arrives within the next day," said Urus. "I imagine the surface is going to get very, very, bloody soon enough."


    "What did you do?!" said Oresa.


    "Oh, I didn''t do anything," said Garrick. "The High Priest instructed me not to use the information.


    "Your associate, Isamu, found some very sensitive documentation. Coincidentally, that documentation was revealed by factors outside of my control. And since Kaba has had all the city guards assigned to the port, I expect many casualties. I wasn''t able to catch Kaba in any corruption, of course. Financial dishonesty is, fortunately, not one of his vices. But I doubt the other merchants will be happy with his decisive actions.


    "After all, they can hardly be protected from the mobs if the town guard is focused on the sea. Strange, is it not? Violence is such a convenient tool for breakers of contracts to speed things along. They imagine a world where they need not give anything to themselves. Meanwhile, they receive limitless service for continued brutality. However, now..." He chuckled. "I imagine they are less pleased with the world they wanted."


    Another building caught fire as guards rushed forward to try to restore order. They soon found the knives turned on them as stones were hurled.


    "I''m surprised at you," said Sahshir.


    Garrick shrugged. "In a situation where no one is following their obligations, all contacts are null and void. As such, my only obligation is to use all means to restore the social contract.


    "A mass lynching that removes the most corrupt officials seems a small price to pay. Especially since the Merchant Lords will be more cautious about exploiting people." He looked for the first time at the bloodshed, framed behind a raging inferno. "Overpopulation should be less of a problem, "I expect the Construction Guild to have a field day.


    "On a brighter note, it will also serve as my gift to the Fish King."


    "How so?" asked Urus as a cold wind blew by them. A raging inferno was raised on a building some ways away.


    "A few decades from now, the story will be very different. It will be said that the very presence of the Fish King''s herald drove the city mad," said Garrick.


    "You ruin men with expert finesse," said Tuor, who had been reading by the sea until now.


    "Thank you," said Garrick. "But the real credit goes to the everyday people of Sorn. All I did was provide them with the information they needed to know. They are the ones who decided to murder the people cheating them. It just so happens that decision suits my purposes perfectly."


    "...You are a very sick person, Garrick," said Nagos flatly. "A lot of innocent people are going to die for this."


    Garrick shrugged. "A small price for making a point."


    Then, as the bloodshed and violence grew to a crescendo, a vast mist returned. It flowed over the flaming streets, obscuring sight and sand. A vast shadow rose overhead as screaming and cries of rage continued. Now Sahshir was standing in a narrow corridor, looking over the water.


    Soon, that water began to foam, and as it foamed, many tendrils rose skyward as something emerged. It was like a woman, yet if it had eyes, they were obscured by a mask of flesh that seemed part of her face. Her form was vaguely visible but with innumerable tendrils. Gazing at her, he found it difficult to see where her flesh ended, and the sea began.


    "Stand your ground, but do not strike. Stay where you are," said Tuor.


    "What is that thing?" asked Oresa.


    Nagos moved forward quickly and spoke to it. Amasara stood with him, and a kind conversation went between them. They speak, and eventually, Nagos turned back to them. "King Abdul Sahshir, the Fish King, awaits."


    Sahshir nodded and rose, then motioned to the others.


    "Well, that is our cue," said Tuor. "Come, let''s brave the depths and leave Suvera to Suvera."


    They followed the herald into the water, going from madness to madness.

 Chapter Twenty: The Fish King

    They passed into the water, and the sea parted around them as they stepped down the pier. Descending, they found a stair of foam beneath their feet. They had yet to go far down it before the waves closed over them again.


    The company now was marching down a great hall. The rear of the hall was fading to the sea and the front opening before them. The saltwater spray surrounded them, and Sahshir saw strange shapes in the water. Vast, winding tendrils seemed to coil in the depths, and he could not tell what color they were.


    However, his companions did not seem to see them. Oresa seemed to be openly marveling at something in the water. A glance revealed a vast school of fish swimming past them, then a school of dolphins. Behind them, Sahshir saw the land appearing almost like a great cliff reaching up toward the sky.


    "Have you ever seen the land from this angle, Urus?" asked Oresa.


    "Of course not," said Urus. "None of us have ever been this low before."


    They saw many other things on that journey. Whales were swimming by the corridor, their calls reaching out throughout the water. But soon, the waters became ever darker, and Sahshir needed to draw the Sword of Order to light the way. The Herald of the Fish King led on, silent, while Nagos walked behind.


    And then they began to see other things.


    At first, it was only massive tentacles reaching up out of the darkest depths. Then they saw shapes shifting and changing before them. They swam here and there, and gazing upon them was not enough to determine their shape. They were beasts of innumerable mouths and teeth, and Sahshir averted his eyes.


    "What... what are these things?" asked Oresa.


    "Elders," said Nagos. "They existed before all that was.


    "Amasara..."


    Amasara said something, and Nagos listened.


    "What is it?" asked Sahshir.


    "As they delve deeper into the unknown, they take on their true nature," said Nagos.


    Soon, they reached the ocean floor. Here, they saw stones of many colors that gleamed beneath the light. Yet Sahshir could see no sign of where the light came from. Alkela walked beside them, and over time they saw structures.


    They were made of many green pillars with pictures of humans mutating into beasts. Yet there were also runes on it. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What is it, Alkela?" asked Nagos.


    Sahshir looked up and saw that Alkela was making hand gestures in irritation. He''d missed them the first time. "Those runes up there are those of Amysta and Zigildrazia,"


    "The Shark Queen is aligned with Amysta," said Tuor. "Her creatures ravage the universe in her name. Move quickly; their eyes may be upon us even now."


    They walked on in greater haste.


    As they did, Sahshir peered in various directions. As he did, he saw shapes moving in the darkness. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a white blur and looked up. He saw what he thought might have been a tan-skinned woman swimming. Yet her lower body was that of a shark, and when he blinked, he was gone.


    "What is it?" asked Isamu.


    "I thought I saw something, a woman, but she had the lower body of a fish," said Sahshir.


    "One of the merfolk?" asked Urus.


    "The merfolk dwell closer to the Sea of Power and in the waters North of Harlenor," said Nagos, shaking his head. "The lizardfolk populate most of this region."


    "Then why would I see her?" asked Sahshir.


    "Perhaps you did not," mused Tuor. "We''d best hope as much. Her appearance is often an omen of coming death."


    "What did she look like?" asked Oresa, curious.


    Sahshir tried to remember and found that he had an obvious idea of what she looked like. He paused. "She had tan skin and short blonde hair and appeared to have a Harlenorian body type, like Oresa. Her mouth was covered by a mask, though. There was a blade at her side."


    "Let''s hurry up the pace a bit, then," said Nagos, shivering. "Merfolk are a bit fickle. Excuse me, Herald."


    The Herald looked back.


    "Can we move more quickly?" asked Nagos.


    The Herald nodded.


    On they went, all the faster. As they did, the ocean seemed to flow by them immensely. Sahshir sighed. "Why are you so concerned?"


    Nagos shrugged. "I heard a legend once of the Goddess of the Seas, the Shark Queen. Long ago, she joined forces with Amysta in exchange for the power to warp souls. With it, the first of the raishans were made. She and her kind patrol the ocean, looking for sailors to devour.


    "It''s said that anyone who falls into the ocean survives only because she wills it."


    "Great, so we''re running again," mused Isamu. "Remind me this, Tuor, what are we doing here?"


    "Hmm?" asked Tuor.


    "We''re trying to get the Heaven''s Eye; how will this help?" asked Isamu.


    "Once we steal the Heaven''s Eye, we will be pursued," said Tuor. "If we could find an alternate route through the seas, it would be helpful.


    "And, as long as we are here, we can perhaps smooth things over."


    "Assuming they don''t kill us as soon as we return," muttered Isamu.


    "You needn''t fear," said Tuor. "I expect the riots shall persist for some weeks. In my experience, when one situation escalates, it tends to escalate all the rest."


    "You seem calm for a man who has left a city falling into chaos," noted Sahshir. Then he glanced back to Garrick, who had been silent.


    "Chaos is a valuable tool," said Garrick.


    "Cadas, did you know what Isamu did?" asked Sahshir suddenly.


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    "...Yes," said Cadas. "Why do you ask?"


    "If this gets traced back to you, King Belosh will have to account for it," said Tuor. "You will have to take responsibility for his actions."


    "I know," said Cadas.


    "Are you willing to take that attitude to the cross?" asked Tuor.


    "...You don''t think Father would-" began Oresa.


    "He might have no choice after this," mused Tuor. "Certainly, I will not be taking your part."


    "Sahshir... can''t you do something?" asked Oresa.


    "I could," said Sahshir. "However, men ought to pay for their own mistakes."


    "You call justice a mistake?" asked Isamu.


    "If it leads to chaos in the streets of the person we are trying to negotiate with?" asked Sahshir. "And leads to the shedding of innocent blood? Yes."


    The Herald stopped. Nagos spoke with it, then turned to them. "The oceans must be closed before the way may be opened."


    And the oceans were closed.


    For a moment, all was in darkness. Then, before their eyes, another light broke through. It was green and faint, and the world looked strange and warped within its light. The ground seemed to peel back like a snake''s skin, revealing beyond a stair.


    It led down in a spiraling path, and the Herald descended.


    "Who is the Shark Queen?" asked Isamu suddenly.


    "The Fish King''s enemy and the Lady of Waves," said Nagos. "Some say she is the Queen of Death as well. She terrorized sailors in these parts before the Fish King drew her out. Now, she is returning with the coming of enlightenment.


    "Her coming is the coming of this world''s death. And the death of all plagued by life."Heading down the steps, Sahshir stopped to look at the water above. There was no water here, but there wasn''t air either. Nor was there anything. As the last member of their company passed the threshold, the entrance shut.


    They were in darkness.


    For a moment, that darkness held, and outside, they heard snarls and snaps. If indeed there was an outside within this shroud. Then, slowly, light emerged, and they were walking along a path. Around them was a vast place, what seemed a cave of roots. Yet the roots were of a strange material Sahshir had never seen. It seemed at once slippery and yet also hard.


    "Hey, Sahshir, we''re not going to meet the Fish King directly, are we?" asked Isamu, slightly worried.


    "I assume so," mused Sahshir.


    "Well, I saw him once," said Nagos. "It took me a month to recover. Looking at him might be a problem."


    "You will not gaze upon him," said Tuor.


    "Oh good, that''s a weight of my... mind..." said Isamu.


    The cave around them passed away, and they walked into a vast city street. Yet the buildings around them were vast towers. Looking up, Sahshir saw a huge ocean in the sky above them. Between the towers were huge walkways. On the bottom of those walkways were many tentacled creatures. They seemed to be city streets under them. There were also lizardfolk around them.


    "What is this place?" asked Oresa, sounding afraid.


    "We''ve passed into another dimension," said Sahshir. "The Sword of Order has fallen silent."


    The Herald led them on, and Sahshir looked to Amasara, who seemed to have taken a different form. Outwards, she was the same, but at the same time, a shadow seemed emerging from her.


    "Of course it has," said Tuor. "What you imagine in the unknown is always far grander than what it turns out to be. This dimension is a place where the unknown gathers in full."


    There were no people on the streets they walked. Yet Sahshir thought he saw windows a bit off the ground. Yet, looking into them took a lot of work. Gazing into the darkness brought to mind a shadow. Many eyes were gazing out of that blackness, but they seemed to hang from above.


    The sea above them suddenly swelled as they came to the edge of a great cliff. A vast vortex of foam swirled deeper and deeper. And from within it came something, a sort of shadow that was cast upon them. Yet this shadow seemed to have a physical form. It was more like a beast than a man, but with the wings of a dragon. Tentacles, each one as long as of the towers, looked upon them.


    "I uh," Nagos shifted. "I think I''d better do the talking here if you don''t mind."


    "By all means," said Garrick.


    "Hey, Fish King, it''s been a while, hasn''t it?" asked Nagos. "Last time we met, I nearly got my mind destroyed, but don''t worry, I''m better. How''d you like that treasure I sent down to you, by the way?"


    There was a response, and Oresa fell to her knees, screaming. Isamu clutched his eyes and fell on his face. Urus averted his gaze while Tuor made incantations.


    "Ah, right, figures it was more symbolic than useful," said Nagos. "Well, maybe you could do some decorating using it."


    "Garrick, now is your chance," said Sahshir.


    He tried to look at the Fish King and understand what he was seeing. Yet even as he seemed to grasp his nature, some other element invalidated it.


    "Hail to you, God of the Unknown," said Garrick, coming forward. "Your tendrils are infinite and exist beyond the borders of perception. I desire peace between the known and unknown."


    The Fish King spoke, and Garrick shifted. "I know what Kaba has done; he is also my enemy. However, if you rise from the depths now, it will lead to the death of far more than him."


    The Fish King spoke, and there was a guttural voice. Garrick held his ground, and his face remained impassive. However, sweat dripped down his brow. "Neither do I."


    "King Sahshir?" asked Nagos.


    The Fish King spoke to Sahshir, and he was not sure he understood what was said. Yet he could not quite make out what was said. However, he must have understood on some level because he found himself replying. "I am no empath. Those around me mean nothing to me. And yet, I still concern myself with their existence. I do so because it is my choice. One may act in another''s best interest with all their heart and yet care nothing for them."


    Garrick flinched visibly then as the Fish King looked upon him in full. His hands were shaking, and he gripped his sword. "I represent a powerful Merchant Lord named Carath Magnious. And he has an offer for you.


    "If you delay your rising, he will see that shrines are erected in your honor. Shrines that speak of the unknowable power within these depths. This will provide an excellent opportunity to push through regulation.


    "It will be far simpler to cease the persecution of your people if the threat of destruction looms. And even now, it is said that you have set your will against Sorn. That you have caused chaos by the presence of your Herald."


    The Fish King said something, but Sahshir couldn''t figure out even the tone. He wondered if they weren''t speaking into a void.


    "Simple enough," said Garrick. "I shall tell the merchants of Sorn that they have displeased you. If you are not appeased, you will rise from the ocean and destroy them. No doubt, they shall raise a shrine in response. From there, rumors shall be spread that those who dwell within Sorn have succumbed to your will.


    "This shall further elevate fear of your unknowable power that lies beyond understanding.


    "And so the foundations of your realm shall be restored."


    There was another somewhat lower whisper, and then the Fish King gazed upon Tuor. The old man looked straight at the thing, and only then did Sahshir realize he''d been averting his eyes. But Tuor looked on straight into the unknown and smiled. "Ah, and what do we want in return?


    "I mean to come back this way in something of a hurry. A swift means to reach the shores near Ruscow would greatly help."


    More whispers.


    Then, suddenly, the Fish King''s shadow entered the vortex and was gone.


    Nagos was standing in its place, and Sahshir only realized he had been standing in the shadow. His eyes were black and glassy, and he spoke. "Go.


    "The Fish King has given you his answer."


    Then his eyes returned to normal, and he fell to one knee.


    "Come, let''s leave the matter be," said Tuor.


    "Let''s get the hell out of here; this place gives me the creeps," said Isamu, picking up Oresa.


    "Not that way, Isamu," said Tuor. "The Fish King has offered to transport us to Gel Carn through the road of Ancient Stone. It will cut a significant leg off our journey."


    "The road of Ancient Stone?" asked Oresa, who looked to have been crying. "But... that place is horrible; almost no one who ventures in there ever returns."


    "I doubt there''s anything in it worse than coming back here," said Urus.


    "If we try heading north, we''ll be sighted for sure," said Tuor. "Aren has watchers in that area, and he might intercept us. This way, we can make for the Dark Land of Gel Carn unseen."


    "What about me?" asked Nagos.


    Tuor looked at Nagos, and he seemed worried for a moment. "I''m certain you could head back to the surface alongside Garrick."


    Nagos shrugged. "No, I think I''ll go with you the whole way. I''ve always wanted to see Harlenor." He glanced at the Herald of the Fish King, standing still as a stone. "Hey, can Amasara be our guide?"


    Amasara was here now, still flesh and blood, but the shadow within her was far stronger.


    "Nice," said Nagos.


    "I will return to the surface and explain the results of negotiations," said Garrick. "Farewell and good luck."


    Then, two stairways opened before them, one leading down, the other up.


    They descended and did not look back.

 Chapter Twenty-One: Messiah

    The dimension they walked now was far preferable to the realm of the Fish King. For one thing, the walls around them were more real and grounded. It was like a greenish glowing rock, and though it led down, it seemed to twist around along the path. Sahshir glanced back at one point and saw the stair was gone.


    Yet, as he walked along the floor, he found himself disoriented. Glancing back, he saw that gravity seemed to be shifting. Their group was walking in a spiral. Nagos and Amasara, directly behind him, were on the wall to the left. Further back, Isamu, Oresa, and Urus were on the ceiling, and Tuor was on the opposite wall.


    The group was walking in a spiral, constantly moving around. And the passage itself was moving upwards, then down, and so on.


    "So what''s this Road of Ancient Stone like?" asked Oresa.


    "It''s a dimension below the world''s surface," said Urus. "It extends into other dimensions. Those who walk it experience it differently each time. Once the goblins dwelled within it until Anoa the Bright exterminated them. Now it is subject to the whims of whatever demon or creature is near it.


    "We''d best go and quickly."


    "Tuor, will you lead here?" asked Sahshir suddenly.


    "Of course," said Tuor, drawing out a rope. "Stay close and tie this rope around your waist. We cannot afford to get separated."


    It took a minute or two to get the rope around everyone. For one thing, the distorted nature of the passage made it difficult to coordinate. When one person moved toward another, they shifted and bumped into one another. Eventually, they managed it by passing it into a line.


    "Now, lead on," said Sahshir.


    "That I will," said Tuor.


    Sahshir went to the rear of the group, walking alongside Oresa. Oresa, however, looked disturbed.


    "What''s wrong, Oresa?" asked Urus.


    "Well, um, I was hoping we''d get to go back to Sorn," said Oresa. "Are we sure about this?"


    "About what?" asked Sahshir.


    "Entering the Dark Land of Gel Carn?" asked Oresa. "Things have only been getting more dangerous, and now... well, we''re almost there."


    "I agree," said Cadas.


    "Oh come on, Cadas," said Isamu. "What''s the problem? We head in, snatch the Heaven''s Eye, and head out."


    "But Isamu, Gel Carn is the heart of Anoa the Bright''s power," said Oresa. "It''s said that every part of that land is awake and hunger for blood. Pandora, the Sorceress, controls the flies, and Gail Arengeth roams there.


    "What''s more, I heard...


    "I heard that the spirit of a legendary knight inhabits the castle of Gel Carn. A being who cannot be killed cannot be defeated. No one may face him and live."


    "Alright, now this sounds like a challenge worth fighting," said Isamu. "If this knight guy is invincible, that''s just because I haven''t beaten him up yet."


    "Though crudely delivered, you speak the truth," said Tuor. "Nothing is invincible. Even one without weaknesses may be drawn out into exposing themselves.


    "How do you know so much about this, Oresa?"


    "Well, um, I used to talk with travelers when they came to visit us," said Oresa. "Back when I lived in the palace, anyway. Nagos was one of them."


    Tuor nodded.


    "You are correct, Oresa," said Tuor. "Gel Carn is a dangerous place. I would never consider going to seize the Heaven''s Eye with Pandora and Arengeth present.


    "Fortunately, neither of them are there.


    "The Heir of Kings has taken her forces north to Escor. And Gel Carn is guarded only by those defenses erected by Anoa. Formidable to be sure, but then, so are we.


    "Still, I cannot see why one with your lack of martial ability needs to invite himself here, King Nagos?"


    "I''ve always wanted to see Harlenor, visit the sacred sites," said Nagos. "Since you plan to profane one of them, I figure this might be my last chance.


    "Hey, Amasara, how are we doing?"


    Amasara spoke again, and her words did not hurt as much as they did. Sahshir was able to get the general meaning. Amasara seemed to be saying that she had seen far worse.


    Even so, they spoke little as the passage led on.


    Little by little, however, the dimensions returned to normal. The rock became gray stone, moist with water. Pools of water could be seen on either side, and gravity returned to normal. Soon, a strange moss grew on the path around them. Vines were growing down from the ceiling. They had many beautiful red flowers on them that sent out waves of golden pollen now and then.


    The water now became gold with the pollen pouring into it.


    "We''ve entered the Road of Ancient Stone," said Nagos, translating Amasara''s language. "This area is inhabited by many lizardfolk, who draw on the fear of those who dare not enter. We''re approaching one of their settlements now."


    "Nagos, are you sure you should be getting to know her?" asked Oresa.


    "Hmm, what do you mean?" asked Nagos.


    "Lizardfolk survives through mystery," said Oresa. "Aren''t you endangering her health?"


    "Not really," said Nagos. "In my experience, the more you know someone, the more you realize how you don''t understand them. As long as you pay attention, every mystery you solve leads to more mysteries."


    "And what happens when you achieve enlightenment?" asked Tuor. "When you achieve total understanding of the universe and all things?"


    "You can''t," said Nagos.


    "...That''s an unexpected answer," said Tuor. "A cynical one as well. You''re a Reasonist?"


    "I think the philosophy is pretty good," said Nagos.


    "What philosophy?" asked Sahshir, who had not had much in the Reasonists.


    "Reasonists maintain that enlightenment does not exist for individuals," said Urus. "True enlightenment doesn''t exist. Every person has their view on everything that exists. Two people can have the same experiences and view them differently."


    "Your point?" asked Sahshir.


    "If you were able to fully understand all perspectives, you would cease to exist," said Nagos. "I am a pure spirit with a limited understanding of the universe in which I dwell. To exceed those limitations and gain an understanding of all things would kill me. Nagos would no longer exist, for I would be everyone and no one."


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    "In essence," said Urus. "To become truly enlightened is to cease to exist as an individual. And if you are not an individual, you do not exist.


    "Enlightenment is only useful if you are an individual. It is not worth seeking."


    "Two men became King, one by war, the other by peace," replied Sahshir. "One spent his reign fighting off enemies of his kingdom, the other building in times of peace. Both ruled wisely and well and were hailed as heroes. Both gained an understanding of the universe beyond normal men and achieved enlightenment.


    "Can you tell the difference between them?"


    "I see," said Urus. "You''re saying that the result is irrelevant in the face of what is done to get there."


    "Precisely," said Sahshir. "What you do to achieve greatness defines the greatness you achieve."


    "Well, yes, but couldn''t attaining enlightenment hurt the lizardfolk?" asked Oresa.


    "Perhaps," said Sahshir. "Or perhaps attaining enlightenment would reveal new and greater mysteries. Thereby leading to the fulfillment of their prophecy."


    "What are all these plants?" asked Cadas suddenly. "How are they growing? There is no sun in here."


    "They are unnatural," mused Tuor. "The power that sustains them comes from above in the mountains on the surface. I sense a powerful presence, one I have not felt since..."


    "What do you sense?" asked Sahshir.


    "There is power here. We should be cautious," said Tuor.


    On they went, but as they did, they seemed off their right road. The tunnels always seemed to lead away. Sahshir attempted to use the Sword of Order to determine the way, but the natural order here was weak. When he tried restoring it, he came to a yawning void and stepped back.


    It seemed this dimension was held together by will alone. The will of innumerable different beings within it and the dimensions it crossed with. Which meant there was no natural order to restrain. "Tuor, Amasara says that the road has shifted. We''re unable to go any further."


    "I see," said Sahshir. "I take it this is not a regular occurrence."


    "The vines have solidified the tunnels in a way that she does not know," said Nagos. "She can''t lead us any further."


    "Very well then," said Tuor. "You have our thanks for leading us this far. Go in peace."


    Amasara turned to walk away, then halted and looked back with pure black eyes. She spoke, and Nagos translated. "One more thing. She smells something nearby: goblins."


    "Goblins?" asked Urus. "Impossible, they were exterminated ages ago. Anoa the Bright annihilated every settlement they had. Then he connected the road to the hells to ensure none got away."


    "Nothing is impossible, Urus," said Tuor. "One should deal with what is." He looked down the passage and into the darkness. With a frown, he looked at each member and then spoke. "Let us go forward and speak to them as we may."


    Sahshir felt bad about all of this, and it only worsened.


    As they moved down the passageway, they heard the scrambling of many feet. Soon, out of the gloom came many green-skinned humanoids. They moved together in a phalanx, like those used by Harlenorians. Many spears were lowered toward them, and slingers were behind.


    At their front was one wearing a steel mask and holding a stick. "Stay where you are! We no seek battle!"


    Tuor stepped forward. "I am Tuor, Disciple of Baltoth. Who is it that stands before us?"


    "I Marzbus!" came the reply. "Grandfather lead clan through Stone Road here! We follow in Einheroth''s footsteps! Rebuild Empire!"


    "You must have been journeying for decades then," said Urus.


    "Weeks," said Marzbus. "Father die yesterday. Now I lead."


    "And you mean to reestablish the old goblin dominions then?" asked Tuor.


    "Yes," said Marzbus. "You not get in the way."


    "Far from it," said Tuor, a faint smile on his face. "Indeed, I believe we may be able to help one another. Tell me, where do your people hail from?"


    "Generations ago, the Living Einheroth came among us," said Marzbus. "He performed great wonders and healed many. He asks for one to walk among us, and Marzel is selected.


    "Together, they walked long time, and Marzel realized that our ways were wrong.


    "He return and reveal Living Einheroth''s demand we no longer eat infants. Then, when Marzel very old, he and his followers see vision. I feel Living Einheroth doing battle with Iron King and Iron King is worse. All enemies in Iron Kingdom are destroyed, and goblins free.


    "But Living Einheroth go back to Harlenor.


    "Marzel, tell followers to seek out Living Einheroth in the ancient realm of Harlenor. Lead expedition, but die before reach. Goblins seek Harlenor for generations and meet Flower Maiden."


    "The Flower Maiden?" mused Tuor. "Who is she?" Sahshir guessed it had to do with the growth in this region. Some sort of spirit or demon? Perhaps a union of both?


    "She is around us," said Marzbus. "Tendrils grow everywhere; she empowered by Laevian. Goblins spread her seeds throughout road, and plants grow. Able to eat fruits.


    "Now await the return of Living Einheroth to show us the way."


    "Can you take us to the entrance to the surface?" asked Sahshir.


    Marzbus frowned. "Surface? Why go there? Not allowed to eat infants anymore."


    "What are they saying, and how do you understand them?" asked Isamu.


    "Quiet, Isamu," said Tuor. "We are negotiating by the languages afforded to servants of gods."


    Then he looked back to Marzbus. "We desire to retrieve something that was stolen from our master. Help us to do this, and it will assuredly speed the return of the Living Einheroth."


    "What you mean?" asked Marzbus.


    "We will retrieve the Heaven''s Eye," said Tuor. "A weapon used by Anoa the Bright to drive your people from these realms long ago, before it rejected him. Once we have it, we may be able to use the power to make contact with the Living Einheroth."


    "What are you doing, Tuor?" hissed Sahshir. They had no plans to search for such a thing, and it was doubtful they could find them if they did. Sahshir had numbered days; the others here wouldn''t put the work in. And Sahshir suspected Tuor was lying.


    "And all you want is us to show you why?" asked Marzbus, who seemed to guess as much.


    "Indeed," said Tuor.


    Marzbus frowned. "Very well. We seek Flower Maiden''s permission, then return."


    Then he moved off, and a tense silence began. Sahshir glared at Tuor, who met his gaze. The others said nothing, and the goblins held their spears ready.


    "What is this Flower Maiden, do you think?" asked Oresa.


    "A minor demon, perhaps some creation of Laevian. It matters little," said Tuor.


    "You were quick to make promises to the goblins. Ones that you might not be able to keep," noted Sahshir, feeling it was an understatement. He wasn''t fully prepared to call the man a liar, but it was well within what he knew of him.


    "On the contrary, we will be able to do so," said Tuor. "Both of us are of the lineage. And performing such a ritual here will draw Harlenor''s attention to this place. Covering our tracks."


    "So you lied," said Sahshir.


    "I intend to fulfill my obligations," said Tuor.


    "The letter was true," said Sahshir. "Not the spirit. This Living Einheroth may not even exist. And now you want to call down Harlenor on the last survivors of this culture."


    "What''s going on here?" asked Isamu.


    "Nothing, the goblins are deliberating over whether or not to help us," said Tuor.


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    At that moment, another goblin, younger with a short beard, returned. He bore a sling and bowed. "The Flower Maiden wills that you be taken to the outside. Your walking will spread her will beyond. Me to lead you."


    "And who are you?" asked Tuor.


    "Mazmus," said the goblin. "Follow."


    And they did follow. Sahshir kept alert, wondering if he was walking into an ambush, but there was no sign. Now and then, the flowers sent forth waves of pollen onto them. They walked in passages that led away from the flowers and moss and into ancient halls. Some bore the emblem of Harlenorian houses, long since dead. Others showed splintered chairs and tables that ought to have rotted away.


    This realm seemed to exist in a state of decay without end. Everything was rotted but not rotting.


    "A question, Mazmus," said Sahshir.


    "Yes?" asked Mazmus.


    "What is the name of the Living Einheroth?" asked Sahshir. If he did exist, Sahshir meant to make Tuor''s lie the truth.


    "We not know for long time," said Mazmus. "But on dying day, Marzel speak to Lucius and learns it.


    "He is William Gabriel."


    Sahshir shuddered at the name. It was as if he''d heard the name of an old friend but in the idenity of an enemy.


    "What''s wrong?" asked Tuor.


    "I have heard the name William Gabriel before," said Sahshir. "He engineered Garacel''s resistance against us in the Islands of Power. Now, these goblins declare allegiance to him."


    "I''ve met him," said Isamu. "Good warrior, amazing healer. Helped us rescue Oresa from some thugs when we were down here last. You''d like him."


    "He was very courteous and kind to me," said Oresa. "And a very good diplomat, too. Well, when he wasn''t throwing Blackguards off cliffs by the belt."


    "Don''t worry yourself needlessly," said Tuor.


    "Why not?" asked Sahshir. "He is a powerful agent of our enemy."


    "Yes, but he''s not here," said Tuor. "And his goblins are helping us. Never concern yourself about things you cannot affect. Remain calm and focused on the task, and the solution will present yourself."


    Sahshir took the words to heart.


    But they worried him nonetheless.

 Chapter Twenty-Two: The Dark Land

    A threat grew in Sahshir''s mind as they walked through the tunnels. The others seemed to feel it as well. His gaze peered this way and that as they wound their way gradually upwards. Plants were growing on either side of them now. Especially flowers opened around them, emitting pollen.


    It all put Sahshir on edge. He didn''t like being under the ground like this, led by a guide they knew little about. "Mazmus, how near are we now?"


    "Not far," said Mazmus. "We near the entrance, and soon we see the realm of Harlenorians."


    "I see," said Sahshir.


    At last, they came to the threshold, a pale and terrible light flowing through it. Sahshir now realized they stood at the bleakest and darkest part of their journey. Gel Carn stood before them, the realm of horrors beyond imagining.


    "Brace yourselves," said Sahshir. "Even now, we ascend toward the Dark Land of Gel Carn, the center of Elranor''s power. Whatever horrors we behold, we must press on. For the will of Baltoth demands, we stand committed."


    "We can handle it," said Isamu.


    "I stand resolute," said Urus.


    "We stand together against Elranor, no matter the cost," said Cadas.


    "I... I''m not turning back now," said Oresa.


    Alkela put one hand to her mace.


    "This is going to be good," said Nagos.


    Tuor smiled.


    Then they rushed beyond the light and saw in the distance Gel Carn.


    They had come out onto the slopes of a mountain; they saw a vast forest below at the base. It had healthy and bright green leaves, and the trees were tall and strong. The sun was shining down on the endless fields of green grass beyond. Among them were many thatched houses. It appeared there were many farmsteads far ahead in the distance, but they were all made near the base of a river. Castles dotted the landscape, some of them bearing banners and soldiers. Others were empty and falling into ruin.


    Beyond that river was a far green country under a beautiful sunrise.


    It was all very pretty.


    Sahshir could not help but feel somewhat insulted. Nagos was snickering. "Have your laugh."


    "Sorry, I couldn''t help myself," said Nagos. "You were all getting so worked up."


    "...Um, are you sure this is Gel Carn?" asked Oresa.


    "Yes, yes, castle far north over the big river," said Mazmus. "Travel hard, though. Watch out for ghosts." And he walked off.


    "Ghosts?" asked Sahshir.


    But Mazmus was gone. He''d scuttled off into the dark without a world.


    "Look at this..." mused Urus. "Have you ever seen so much green?"


    "This place is beautiful," said Oresa.


    "Stay where you are," said Sahshir. "I will meditate and sense for signs of our enemy." Then he sat down crosslegged and scanned the land. It quickly became apparent that the spirits of this place were strong, very strong. They managed everything in this place and paid no heed to any god or demon.


    Opening his eyes, he looked up. "...The spirits of this land are powerful. They have far more influence than in Sorn or Kalthak. We must be cautious as we press forward.


    "Come, let''s get off these hills.


    "I do not want to be seen here."


    "I will lead here," said Tuor. "It has been... many years since last I walked here. It has changed greatly. Come, let us go."


    And he began to walk down.


    "What was it like when last you saw it?" asked Oresa.


    "All this..." Tuor paused as they reached the trees. "All this was ashes and dust. Anoa the Bright''s brutality had scoured the land, seemingly permanently. These rolling plains were once considered great forests, but they set their will against Anoa. And so Anoa destroyed them, setting them flame and killing all within.


    "I remembered when there were horses in these lands."


    "Horses?" asked Isamu. "Those legendary beasts?"


    "Yes," said Tuor. "They shared an unbreakable bond with the elves and fought for them in the wars. And they would bear no other race. With them, the elves could dominate the world and keep humanity chained.


    "Anoa commanded they submit to him. But they stayed true and helped the elves in war."


    "So Anoa had his men hunt horses to eat," said Sahshir. "What they could not eat, they left for the vultures."


    "Why would he do something so horrible?" asked Oresa.


    "In those days, the elves had set the world itself against humanity," said Tuor. "Humans were only permitted to have a certain ration of water or fruit. When a spirit became angry with them, they had no recourse save for begging.


    "They were persecuted wherever they went, forced to grovel. The punishments could be extreme if a human hurt an elf or a spirit. In one situation, an entire village was depopulated because of a stolen ring.


    "High King Anasar of the elves chided the Lord responsible for the response.


    "As the world had declared war on Anoa, Anoa declared war on the world. He razed forests to send a message and allied with the forest fires. Without mercy or pity, he killed any species that sided with the elves. And he was very fond of fire.


    "When I was born to one of his mistresses, this entire region was being torched. I used to play in the woods when I was very young. Then, one of the spirits helped an elf escape the hunting parties. Anoa found out and torched the whole thing.


    "He only stopped when Laevian started sending plagues." Tuor sighed as he set a hand to a tree and breathed out. "...It is good to see this land returning to health."


    "Why would anyone follow him?" asked Oresa.


    "When men are desperate, they will take a monster instead of a tyrant," said Tuor. "And Anoa was a genius as well as a monster. He also knew enough to establish the systems Harlenor has used to this day.


    "The whole thing rests on a tripod of sorts. The King is at the top with his forces, but the nobles can overthrow him if he behaves badly. So he is reliant on them. At the same time, the militia system ensures that the common people all know to fight in ranks. So if the nobles ever become too oppressive, the militia may declare for the King and fight them. And, of course, the King and the nobles may divide and conquer the common people to defend their rights.


    "But that would mean Harlenor would be fighting with one another all the time," said Oresa.


    "More or less, yes," said Tuor. "Anoa wanted a warrior culture that would never succumb to the corruption he saw in the elves. And he more or less got exactly that. Still, the system benefits from ensuring no one tyrant can ever rule for long.


    "You''d never catch a Dinisian Emperor ruling in Harlenor. He''d be speared before the crown was on his head. Except perhaps, in Antion these days. Though as long as Andoa II still lives, that is a moot point.


    "But, in truth, the constant brutality and warfare is precisely why I went over to Baltoth. His ideals of perfect order appealed to me. Meanwhile, Arengeth was content to make polite suggestions and arrange marriage alliances. But he left the core problems remain unsolved.


    "Come, let us move on. We have a long way to go."


    It soon became apparent that the empty lands ahead of them were immense. They went through vast numbers of trees. Sometimes, they''d come out into clearings. He found fields of flowing, golden grass and serene pools. They drank of these and were refreshed. The air around them was clean and cool, as well.


    "Where is everyone?" asked Urus. "These lands are beautiful and fertile. Why does no one dwell here? I would have expected to see some felled trees, at least."


    "Gel Carn was once the center of power for Harlenor United," said Tuor. "However, when Anoa IX was killed in an ambush by Baltoth, Harlenor fractured. Many great lords fought to carve out their kingdoms. And Gel Carn was a prize they desired, for they thought it would give them legitimacy.


    "Armies marched, burning and plundering. One would be King Lord Asion Muldus, who made infernal bargains and used armies of demons. Unending war tore this land apart, and the people fled or died.


    "None, in the end, were victorious. I saw to that myself."


    "Why?" asked Oresa. "I thought you wanted to avoid pointless wars."


    "It was my goal to weaken the various lords to ensure Baltoth''s conquest of this land went well," said Tuor. "Because of my actions, Artarq was subjugated, and the elves of Qor''Dana were hard to resist. But, in the end, it changed nothing.


    "Our invasion of Harlenor was repelled.


    "Gel Carn was left in ruins with only a shadow of what it once was. Plants and people have only recently returned to this land. And they are few and far between, herding and farming as best they can."


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    They passed out of those forests and into the long grass soon enough. As they did, Sahshir looked up and saw vast, rolling clouds. A wind howled through his cloak, and it was a sharp one. "The clouds are gathering, and the wind is coming toward us."


    "We will need to find somewhere to rest," said Tuor. "We''ll make for that castle up ahead."


    The castle in question was a truly huge one. The walls were immense, higher than anything Sahshir had seen. Even Zigilus had not been so tall. The stones were dark gray, and many arrow slits were pointing out. The gatehouse was on a rampage of stone, and the doors had long ago rotted away. Yet there was something... evil about it.


    Sahshir couldn''t pinpoint exactly why he disliked the fortress.


    "What is this place?" asked Isamu as they neared. "Was this where that Lord Asion guy lived?"


    "Actually, yes," said Tuor. "This is Castle Muldus, where the demons were first summoned as the siege was laid to Asion''s castle. A powerful Warlock, Muldus opened a portal to the hells to bring in the armies of Adrianeth, Lord of Pride."


    "But Baltoth is the Lord of Pride," said Oresa.


    "In effect, yes," said Tuor. "In technicality, no. He had to set the mantle down to become Lord of Order formally. So Adrianeth, his greatest warrior, holds the title of a subordinate. And Adrianeth sought to claim Gel Carn, sending forth his legions.


    "I remember the screams of Asion''s wife as she was carried through the portal. The sight of the beasts surging through to consume the world. It was a spectacular battle, and the Knights of Harlenor fought with great valor. Yet they were forced to withdraw and drawback."


    "Why would these stones be left standing?" asked Urus. "Surely, the peasants would want to take these stones for building material."


    "There are demons still here," said Tuor. "You just cannot see them."


    And then, as they passed the gates, Sahshir looked with his spiritual sight. Gazing deeply, he saw figures just beyond the veil of reality. They were many, and appeared as armored figures.


    Yet they were not on this physical plane. "I sense them near."


    "Then let us go to meet them," said Tuor. "If Adrianeth still maintains his power, we may gain his assistance in what comes next."


    "Why should we need the aid of demons?" asked Urus.


    "A just question," said Sahshir.


    "They are demons who serve Baltoth," said Tuor. "You, of all men, should appreciate such efforts."


    "I serve Baltoth because it is my purpose," said Sahshir. "I have chosen to live my life in his name. Demons, however, only serve him because of what they may get out of it. And I am not certain this Adrianeth doesn''t plot his overthrow even now."


    "And what brings you to that conclusion?" asked Tuor.


    "They are demons," said Sahshir flatly.


    Tuor paused, considered that, and laughed. "Excellent reasoning, son."


    Sahshir almost replied harshly, but Alkela drew her mace and tested the weight. Oresa looked at her in concern. "Alkela, what''s wrong?"


    "Zigildrazia and Adrianeth were never fond of one another," said Tuor. "Adrianeth claimed credit for one of her inventions that he commissioned her to make. In turn, Zigildrazia challenged him to single combat and defeated him. Adrianeth prides himself on martial power. And he regarded the domain of sloth with contempt.


    "Smarting from the humiliation, Adrianeth took to kidnapping Zigildrazia''s handmaidens. It took Baltoth''s mediation to end the dispute, and the two have bitter hatred for the other since. Or at least Adrianeth holds Zigildrazia in bitter hatred; she seemed to enjoy the feud."


    "How did Baltoth get them to stop fighting?" asked Nagos.


    "Baltoth had Adrianeth assist Zigildrazia in overthrowing Amysta," said Tuor. "In weregild for his stolen handmaidens. Though I believe he got to keep those he had kidnapped anyway.


    "His forces were of great assistance."


    Then they halted. The passage Tuor had taken them by had collapsed long ago, and only stone was in the way. With a sigh, Tuor led them another way. These halls were devoid of adornment, yet Sahshir seemed to see banners.


    It was like they were walking in two different castles at once. One was broken and destroyed, with the stones falling out of place. The other was adorned with rich tapestries. They showed many armored figures marching to battle. One was lit only by what light got through the windows, the other by blazing torches.


    "Why are all these tapestries showing armored figures?" asked Oresa. "Where are the demons?"


    "Pride demons appear in human form," said Tuor. "But with their humanity obscured. Baltoth always preferred them to be in the form of lions and tigers. However, Adrianeth has different preferences."


    So, the others were aware of it. Or at least Oresa was; the others seemed to share a confused glance. It was odd; the two castles seemed to bleed over into one another. Sahshir could see fine wherever the torches were, even in the lesser ones. Perhaps one was becoming more real as they ventured deeper.


    Cadas glanced back as something moved.


    "What is it, Cadas?" asked Oresa.


    "I thought I saw something," said Cadas.


    "Isamu, Urus, act as a rearguard," said Sahshir. "Cadas, Oresa, bring up the middle. Alkela, you are with me. Tuor, do as you like."


    They went on, scaling a great set of stairs. As they did, one of the flagstones came loose, and Oresa fell backward. Urus moved forward and caught her.


    "Thank you, I..." said Oresa. "I guess I wasn''t paying attention."


    And, at last, they came out of the steps and into a room with a balcony. And beyond that balcony, they saw their first sight of Gel Carn. It was the fairest castle Sahshir had ever seen, with spiraling white towers. And yet, it was also the most menacing. As he came to the edge and looked at it, he really looked at it. He saw a nemesis¡ªthe heart of the enemy that had fought Baltoth to a standstill for ages.


    Anoa did not dwell there now, but he will live on. His seething contempt for life and dark thoughts had permeated this land. All the raids and destruction that had so long harmed Calishan soil could be traced back to him. That cursed and violent animal whose spawn was destined to end Baltoth.


    No, it would not happen.


    Sahshir would not allow this wraith in the form of a knight to triumph. Not while he still drew breath. Calisha would prevail.


    "...It''s quite a sight, isn''t it," said Tuor.


    "What is that?" asked Oresa.


    "That is Gel Carn," said Sahshir.


    "But it''s beautiful..." said Oresa.


    "It appears that way at first glance to some but changes by the one who gazes at it," said Tuor. "Come, the throne room is beyond that door over there."


    "What''s the hurry?" asked Isamu.


    "We are expected," said Tuor.


    They entered the throne room, and the two castles merged. Here was a room filled with a red light. Great raging infernos burned in sphere form, hanging from the ceiling. Dozens upon dozens of armored figures stood, silent and proud. They bore massive swords and nothing of -their faces could be seen within. And at the far end was Adrianeth.


    He sat on a black throne, wearing black armor. But his helmet was off. His hair was blue and seemed more like spines than strands, standing upright in a mane. A jagged smile was on his face, and his eyes held within them a certain madness.


    "Tuor, you''re here at last. Are these them?" asked Adrianeth.


    "Yes, Lord Adrianeth, these are the ones I spoke of," said Tuor. "I take it Melchious spoke to you of each in turn."


    "Yes, he did," said Adrianeth, eyeing Oresa with a feral hunger. "He was very descriptive of some.


    "Once you have seized the Heaven''s Eye, I shall provide you whatever cover you require. Tell me, did you tell your puppets what they will face."


    "Careful what you say, demon," said Sahshir. "I am King Sahshir of Kalthak; insult my nation at your peril."


    "I''ll say as I wish," said Adrianeth, smiling wider. "Do you know what awaits you in Gel Carn, boy? Orson himself is in that place."


    "Who is Orson?" asked Isamu. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The greatest knight of Gel Carn," said Sahshir. "He was killed by Anoa the Bright in retribution for an affair with Queen Gwendoven."


    "You know your history," said Adrianeth. "More than those within this place, to be sure.


    "His spirit resides in Gel Carn, and any who would seek to take the Heaven''s Eye must face him. So I''ll bet every one of you will be killed before you ever touch that gem.


    "Still, for now, I offer you my hospitality.


    "For what it is worth."


    Sahshir liked this mission less and less. He shared a glance with Isamu, and both knew exactly what the other was thinking. It was time for Tuor to answer some questions whether he wanted to or not.


    The room they had been led to was very luxurious. Huge, comfortable beds and a window looking out over the fields. There were ornate carpets and a tapestry on the wall. It showed the image of a vast whirlpool with many spires rising out of it.


    Then, Tuor was slammed against it by Isamu, who gripped him by the throat. Sahshir was surprised at how angry he looked. "Alright, Tuor. Start talking."


    "About what?" asked Tuor, quite calm.


    "You want to tell us why you''ve been cutting deals with Melchious, the God of Sadism and Torturers," said Isamu. "I''ve seen the bastard''s handiwork. I don''t like working with him, especially without knowing it."


    "If you want to make arrangements with a member of the hells, you go through Melchious," said Tuor, forcing him off. "Some call him the Eighth Demonic Archon.


    "For my part, I think it would be more accurate to refer to him as the Demonic Middleman. He has worked for every power among them at some point and is immensely influential."


    "Adrianeth is Baltoth''s subordinate. We need no middleman," noted Sahshir.


    "True," conceded Tuor. "But Adrianeth has become... rebellious. And so I have taken this indirect route, hoping he will perceive me as of like mind. In doing so, I may get a hint of his plans."


    "Sure you are," scoffed Isamu. "This quest is getting shadier all the time."


    "Calm yourself, Isamu," said Sahshir.


    "And stop telling me to calm myself!" snapped Isamu. "This mission stinks to high heaven, and I''ll say as much whether you want me to!"


    "What are you proposing as an alternative?" asked Isamu. "To turn back now in the face of Gel Carn, with the quest undone? That would be a waste of all our efforts."


    "He''s right, Isamu," said Urus. "It''s too late to go back, whatever we think."


    "And anyway, Tuor is the Disciple of Baltoth. We should trust him," said Oresa.


    "It is written:" said Sahshir flatly. "Trust not the man with power until you have seen his deeds."


    "Who cares?" asked Isamu in turn.


    "They are the holy texts of Baltoth and hold the world''s wisdom," replied Sahshir, annoyed.


    "So, nobody, then," said Isamu. "It''s not my world his wisdom applies to; I''ll tell you that."


    Sahshir''s hand went to his sword immediately, but Tuor caught it. "Sahshir, might I suggest we not bring this to violence so close to victory?


    "You two may settle your grievance once the matter is concluded."


    "What does Adrianeth get out of this," said Urus.


    "Hmm?" said Tuor.


    "How does he gain?" asked Urus. "I know he serves Baltoth, but as a demon, I doubt it is out of true devotion."


    "You are correct, Urus," said Tuor. "Adrianeth has great power in this region. His reach extends throughout all the empty lands of Gel Carn. However, he cannot use that power.


    "The Heaven''s Eye emits a massive aura. It purifies demonic energy into spiritual energy. That is why the land here has recovered so well. So long as it remains, Adrianeth is limited only to his strong points.


    "Once we have the Eye, he shall be able to muster his power and bring forth an army in this place once more."


    "But what about the people?" asked Oresa.


    "What of them?" asked Tuor. "They are our enemies, and a second front here is to our advantage."


    "They''re still people," said Oresa. "It is written:


    "''Kick not your enemies when they are down. Help them stand.''"


    "You quote in error," said Sahshir, "the phrase is:


    "''Kick not your enemy when he is down. Kill them, or help them stand.''


    "The verse is a warning against needless cruelty. When you have humbled an opponent, you should integrate their strength into your own. Or failing that, wipe them out so they can never be a threat to you again.


    "Only fools deal in cruel mercy."


    "And what about my father?" asked Isamu flatly, resentful.


    "Rammas serves his purpose by keeping the domain of Hope out of our enemy''s hands," said Sahshir. "I am certain Baltoth has other uses for him."


    "You-" snarled Isamu.


    "Enough!" said Tuor. "Adrianeth will be long delayed in whatever he does. The theft of the Heaven''s Eye will be only a long-term benefit. For now, we will rest and press on tomorrow over the fields. It will take some days to reach the inhabited territory.


    "And we must be ready to move swiftly."


    Sahshir looked to Isamu, then Tuor. He liked this mission less by the minute but meant to see it through. "As you wish."


    There would be a time and a place for answers. Sahshir just prayed he wasn''t making a serious mistake.

 Chapter Twenty-Three: Formalities

    They set out from Adrianeth''s castle that day.


    Sahshir was not sad to leave the place behind and was pleased that Adrianeth did not see them off. He was in no mood to exchange pleasantries with a demon. Unfortunately, it was the last roof they would have over their heads in the coming days.


    The company, led by Tuor, moved by night and rested in secret places. When they saw roads, they stayed off them. Occasionally they saw merchants on ox carts or knights walking on quests. These they avoided completely, though Nagos seemed to want to speak with them. The river, meanwhile, got closer by the day. Often, Sahshir would see ships passing along it, merchant ships for the most part.


    Now and then, rainstorms would come in and shower them, making the journey miserable. But on they plodded nonetheless.


    "Doesn''t this wilderness ever end?" muttered Nagos. "We haven''t talked to anyone outside our group in a week."


    "Perhaps not," said Tuor. "But it will only become harder once we reach the shore. I have a man waiting to take us across the river, but that is where we will most likely be seen."


    "I presume you have some plan for this journey stage," said Sahshir.


    "You are correct, Sahshir," said Tuor. "There are certain rituals that may disguise us. Much of what people see when they look at someone is based on their perception, not on any inherent truth. There are certain rituals by which I may allow us to slip beneath notice.


    "To the casual eye, we shall appear ordinary travelers.


    "In a longer conversation, however, we may have a problem."


    "Nagos will do the talking here," said Sahshir. "Should any need doing?"


    "I think perhaps I ought to," mused Tuor. "I have passed as a Harlenorian before, and I once was one."


    "No, no, I should," said Oresa.


    "Oresa?" asked Sahshir.


    "My mother was a Harlenorian," said Oresa. "So, I look the part better than anyone."


    "Do you believe you''ll be able to keep up the act?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, um..." Oresa paused. "I could put across being very ineffectual and weak-willed. And Nagos could be my companion who keeps me out of trouble."


    "That sounds like a fairly good idea to me," said Nagos. "It means I can be a foreigner in command while there being a good reason for it."


    Then Sahshir noticed another castle some ways off. Before him, Sahshir saw another castle. It was black and stood tall with spikes for crenelations. It was abandoned, just like Adrianeth''s, but the land around it was barren and desolate. "...That castle over there, what is it?"


    "That is the castle of Dolores Gable," said Tuor, "though it was once called Joyous Gable. Once, it was the abode of Sir Orson the Valiant, the greatest Knight of Harlenor. He was the meekest man to stand in the hall among ladies, yet the sternest warrior to ever stand in a line of battle.


    "It''s said that he tamed a horse and rode it into battle, though none know what became of it.


    "Before him, the castle was the abode of a cruel Elven Lord named Avasast. He was friends with a dragon and forced the humans here to sacrifice their fairest maidens to the dragon. And often, he would go out to the quarries, forcing his men to work and firing arrows at them for sport.


    "Then, one day, Orson faced him.


    "He carried only a sling and was only a boy of twelve. But he challenged Avasast to single combat. Laughing, the Lord dismounted and drew his sword to cut the child''s head off. But Orson cast his stone and smote him on the forehead. The elf had not donned his helmet and fell senselessly to the ground.


    "Snatching up his enemy''s sword, Orson struck swiftly and cut his head from his shoulders. Then he turned to fight the elf''s guards, but another boy came to his aid, pulling him away. That boy was Anoa the Bright, and together they had many adventures.


    "Anoa was farsighted and ruthless, but Orson was noble and brave. And together, they founded the Kingdom that would one day become Harlenor."


    "What happened to him?" asked Oresa.


    "Anoa married a girl named Gwendoven," said Tuor, "a beautiful girl with the blood of fairies within her. It is said that he saw her walking upon a crystal lake. It was near the heights of the Black Mountain. Loving her at once, he performed many great deeds in her honor and married her.


    "Yet her heart belonged to Orson.


    "Eventually, Anoa heard of an affair between the two of them. Disbelieving it, he nevertheless set a trap for them. Catching them in the act, he drew his sword to kill them. But Orson snatched up a sword and fought free, escaping with Gwendoven to this castle.


    "But they had called down the wrath of Anoa.


    "And Anoa''s wrath is a curse. Once set upon someone, none may survive it. Or so it is said, for his spirit shall dog their steps until utter ruin is upon them.


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    "And yet Orson had such power and majesty that he could forestall Anoa''s wrath.


    "And so it was that Anoa called upon Fortenex and Zigildrazia for aid. Zigildrazia forged for him such a suit of armor as has never been seen since. And Fortenex blessed his warriors with an unquenchable thirst. In repayment for this debt, the castle was laid to waste; every village was destroyed around it. All the people and animals were put to the sword. All their valuables were burned.


    "At last, Anoa faced Orson right there upon the tower.


    "They fought one another in single combat, Gwendoven behind him.


    "Orson fell, and Gwendoven died moments later.


    "But Anoa was not content with death for his enemies. And so he sealed Orson''s soul and bound it for eternity. And it is said that Orson''s ghost still haunts some ancient land, guarding in death the domain of his master."


    "Gel Carn," mused Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Tuor. "I saw it myself from just here. Though I was a young child, and Arengeth was already old."


    "What part did Arengeth play?" said Isamu.


    "None," said Tuor. "His duties often took him far afield. When he heard of events, he came at once. But he arrived only in time to see the utter ruin of Orson."


    "How old were you?" asked Oresa.


    "I was eleven years old," replied Tuor, "the bastard son of King Anoa the Bright. He had many mistresses, though I am told he loved Gwendoven dearly."


    "But he killed her," said Orson.


    "Love and hatred are close relations," said Sahshir. "One can become the other very easily. It takes only a betrayal.


    "And Anoa was never a happy man.


    "Come, we are near the river. Once we reach the settlements, we''ll cross over and head for our goal."


    The spell Tuor cast was simple, and it was done using the Sword of Order. As they approached the river settlements, they moved through. Around them were many rough-looking people. Most did not give any of the travelers a second glance, and they seemed to pass unnoticed easily. They saw a militia drilling with spears and shields to one side. As they neared the river, Sahshir was surprised at how clear it was.


    When they got to the pier, they found a man with a long, black beard sitting by a large boat. The man glanced up and stood with a start, snatching up a spear. "Hold up, you lot there. Don''t go a step further till I have a better look at you?"


    "I assure you, Captain, we mean no harm," said Oresa, slowing to a halt. Her voice was strange now.


    "Plenty of folks say they mean no harm," said the man. "Not many of them come out of the Dead South these days. You from one of the villages in that region? I''d thought for sure they wouldn''t last."


    "We are from Sorn," said Sahshir before he remembered Nagos was meant to be doing the talking.


    The man frowned. "You don''t mean...


    "Elranor above, you came through the Road of Ancient Stone?"


    "Indeed we did," said Sahshir.


    "Well then, you must be mighty fine warriors," said the man. "Or liars with a terrible sense of direction and not sense enough to stay on the path. Either is no concern of mine; you aren''t demons either way."


    "You have problems with demons?" asked Oresa.


    "Now and then, young las, now and then," said the man. "Though they''re usually a much weaker kind or in a human shell. The only way they can get close to these parts is to spy. We can thank Lord Elranor for that.


    "Who among you is the leader?"


    "Um, I am, actually," said Oresa. "Though Nagos is my advisor."


    "Which one of you is that?" asked the man.


    Nagos came in from where he''d been speaking with someone else. "That would be me; it''s great to meet you. Sorry if Oresa''s guards are a bit defensive; we''ve had some near calls. Is that the ferry over there?"


    "That it is, young man," said the man. Then he frowned. "Nagos, I swear I heard that name somewhere before. Ah yes, Nagos, King of the Seas, was it."


    "It''s a common name," said Nagos. "I''ve got the luck to share it. Everywhere I go, people wonder if I am King Nagos in disguise.


    "Who are those men drilling?"


    "They''re the border watch," said the man. "Few folks like to dwell beyond the river; Adrianeth''s demons come out at night. Still, with all the land being taken beyond, some brave souls have tried for colonies on the other side.


    "Nothing attacks them outright, of course. But it can''t be denied that some bad luck follows them as they try to make a living out here. A few knights tried to journey up to Dolores Carn a ways back, but none returned.


    "Some say the spirit of Sir Orson haunts it still."


    "Sir Orson?" asked Nagos.


    Sahshir wondered if he had not been paying attention. Or was he merely looking for the man''s perspective?


    "A damned rebel, the first and worst of the lot," said the man. "Seduced Anoa the Bright''s wife and raised banners against him. Made all kinds of deals with infernal demons to try and stop the King''s justice. But in the end, the demons came to collect their due and devoured his whole land.


    "If it hadn''t been for him, Baltoth never should have had the chance to kill Anoa IX. We have taken Seathorius without that civil war.


    "But, all that''s being set to rights now. A new Heir of Kings has drawn Lightning Trail from the sky. She''s already brought peace to Gel Carn. And the word is that House Gabriel has secured Artarq and Seathorius.


    "Mark my words, the Dark Lord''s days are numbered at this rate."


    "Do you think we could meet this Heir of Kings?" asked Nagos.


    "Well, I hear tell she''s gone out to set Escor to rights as well," said the man. "Went with Gabriels, De Chevlons and Vortegexs too. So you still need to take your chance.


    "Still, there is the shrine to the Heaven''s Eye. The gem is well guarded, but its radiance flows into the shrine. I may live to see her take it up; now that''s unexpected."


    "Can you take us across the river?" asked Nagos. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Of course," said the man. "So long as you have the money for the ferry, we''ll not quarrel.


    The name''s Captain Trevor, by the way."


    The trip over the river was a swift one. As they landed, Oresa seemed troubled. "These people regard Anoa as a hero and Baltoth as a Dark Lord."


    "Of course they do," said Tuor. "They have been trained to do so since birth. To question their nature would invite doubt into everything they believe."


    "But how do we know there isn''t truth to what they are saying?" asked Urus, though the question seemed more out of principle.


    "It does not matter," said Tuor. "Our interests and theirs are mutually exclusive. Even if we learned we were in the wrong by some miraculous chance, we would still act the same. Ideals are a means of justification. Nothing more."


    "No, they aren''t," said Sahshir flatly. "Your ideals aren''t what you believe. Your ideals are what you do. Everything you do is in service to one cause or another. Your desires and feelings are irrelevant in the face of your actions."


    "Can we please save the philosophy for later?" asked Isamu.


    "I dunno, I find them interesting," said Nagos.


    "You?" asked Isamu. "The kid raised by pirates."


    "I''m the same age as Sahshir," said Nagos, "and in case you haven''t noticed, I''m the most feared pirate in history."


    "History isn''t over yet," muttered Isamu.


    "If you think about it, history ends with every moment," noted Oresa.


    "Not really," said Nagos. "The Books of Namina tells us that time is already complete. But we who are within it can only perceive part of it at any time. As we move, what we can see before and after changes.


    "It''s like if you are raising a torch to a wall. And the light only reaches part of it.


    "Eventually, though, the light goes out, and you must make a new one.


    "That''s what death is.


    "Swapping out the torch."


    "Who cares?" asked Isamu.


    "People other than you," snapped Tuor, who was nearly as sick of Isamu as Sahshir. "We''ll head down the path out of sight, then turn aside into the wilderness. Once we have arrived, we will have to discuss the details of our plans."

 Chapter Twenty-Four: The Heavens Eye

    The wilderness passed them with surprising speed. The Wolven Forest was a dark place of dense foliage and many gleaming eyes in darkness. They heard the sound of howling wolves, but nothing barred their way or sought to attack them. When Sahshir sensed them, the spirits did not even know they were there.


    Tuor had cast a spell that helped them slip beneath the notice of spirits, or so he said. It involved several runes, which he meditated on now and then. But no one felt like talking, and they had one or two close run-ins with the woodsmen. They saw them dressed in gray and moving through the trees like shadows. But they should have noticed Tuor.


    Even so, a shadow was growing on their minds. Isamu, in particular, was restless, often pacing this way and that in camp. Oresa spent her time knitting repairs to clothes, though Sahshir handled his own. Urus meditated while Cadas just sat on a stump and thought.


    "Now, once we get the Heaven''s Eye, how do we escape?" asked Isamu.


    "An escape by land will be useless to us," said Tuor. "Fortunately, I''ve made arrangements with Adrianeth. He has contacts with certain cults in Seathorius, referred to by some as the Dark Nakmar. They worship the Demonic Archons rather than Baltoth of the Dreaming Goddess."


    "And they are helping us?" asked Urus.


    "Yes, a vessel is coming down even now," said Tuor. "Adrianeth has given me the meeting place, and once we get there, we will board it."


    "What makes you think they won''t take the Eye for themselves?" asked Isamu.


    "Demons cannot abide the Heaven''s Eye," said Tuor. "No doubt its very presence shall pain them. And they would be incapable of using it anyway. Moreover, the Demonic Archons stand to gain by the defeat of the Heir of Kings, do they not."


    "Of course," said Isamu.


    "Then they benefit from our presence," said Tuor. "Baltoth is a far more reasonable actor than a potential heir of Anoa the Bright."


    "Demons are not reasonable," said Sahshir, liking this all less with every day. "Night is coming on."


    "Good," said Tuor. "Then we''ll rest when we get there. In the morning, we''ll make our plans."


    Sahshir, for his part, was altogether sick of this mission. He wanted to be back home, where he could make real changes. Tuor had grand designs, but Sahshir began to suspect they would not have much effect. He told himself that the possibility of being healed would be worth the risk.


    Still, he now regarded this quest as a chore. Far less dangerous than his other missions. Dearly, he wanted to return home to Kalthak, speak with Narcissa, and mind his own home and affairs. If he could tend to his wounds, so be it.


    It was almost anticlimactic when they finally came out of the forests and into sight of Gel Carn. The fortress seemed far more ordinary. Seeing the villages near it only detracted from the menace.


    "At last," said Tuor. "Gel Carn."


    "The fortress... it''s different," said Oresa thoughtfully.


    "What do you mean?" asked Nagos.


    "Before, it was dark and horrible," said Oresa, "but now it seems to have shifted to become a little more normal."


    "That was part of the enchantment put on it by Gwendoven," said Tuor. "Gel Carn shifts in appearance based on the thoughts of the one who looks at it.


    "However, the illusion fades as you gaze at it more."


    They spent the night there, resting beneath the stars. It was cold here, far colder than Kalthak, paining Sahshir''s body. He felt old and bitter and went to sleep as soon as possible.


    The next morning, he approached Nagos and Oresa. "Nagos, Oresa, head down there and scout the place out. Take your time, look around, and learn about the place. Find where they keep the Eye if you can.


    "We won''t go down until you return."


    "There''s no need for that," said Tuor. "I know the aura it radiates and can lead us-"


    Sahshir raised a hand for silence and looked to Nagos, who was stretching. "Hmm, sounds good to me. I don''t mind looking around," said Nagos.


    "Why am I going?" asked Oresa.


    Sahshir had already had this discussion and didn''t want to have it again. "Humor me."


    And so they went off. No doubt, Nagos would find some way to use her as a prop in his approach. Isamu seemed a bit shaken, though. "Are you sure about sending Nagos down there?"


    "Quite sure," said Sahshir. "He''s the best at fast-talking, and since he''s not Calishan, he''ll be the least at risk if he is discovered."


    "What if he betrays us?" asked Urus.


    Sahshir looked at Urus, feeling insulted by the idea.


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    "...It''s a relevant question," said Urus.


    "I won''t even dignify that with a response," said Sahshir.


    Nagos was above suspicion.


    They waited on the eaves of the forest, and Sahshir looked around them. The woods here had an earthy scent, and moss covered the ground. The trees rose high to create a ceiling of branches, and birds were chirping.


    It was, actually, somewhat beautiful.


    Eventually, Nagos returned with Oresa, speaking with her cheerfully as they neared. Oresa laughed at something they said as Nagos came back. "Well, we''re here. Oresa was helpful. Though we had to stop to heal some sick people."


    "What news, Nagos?" asked Sahshir.


    Nagos drew out a scroll and handed it to Sahshir. "Well, I''ve got a map of the keep. It took a bit of doing to get in, but most of the guards are out somewhere, from the looks of things. Still, the Heaven''s Eye is kept in the chapel here.


    "Steward Benarus is gone, though; he''s negotiating with some lords. A Lord Anias Cuhlhorn was killed. Now, Benarus is deciding who should inherit. A large part of the soldiers went with him, and many of them were gone for the wars anyway."


    "Then we have timed our mission well," said Tuor, smiling.


    "So, what''s the plan now?" asked Isamu, looking at Tuor.


    "Now?" asked Tuor. "We will wait for night. Then Isamu, you, Sahshir, and I will retrieve the Eye."


    "What about us?" asked Cadas.


    "You will each remain here and await us," said Tuor. "I know my way through the palace. More than us, it will be challenging to enter unseen.


    "Stay hidden, and do not come after us.


    "We''ll meet you back here."


    "What if you are discovered?" asked Urus.


    "You''ll know what to do by the shaking," said Tuor.


    Alkela did not look up from polishing her mace. Feeling Sahshir''s gaze on her, she glanced up, tossed the weapon into the air, and then caught it by the haft. Finally, she shrugged.


    The day wore on, and Nagos made several other trips down to other places. Yet the silence, the lack of action, was eerie. Sahshir would have expected Elranor to have sent someone or something to oppose them.


    Yet it was as though Elranor was letting them just walk in.


    Had Elranor wholly overlooked them? Or was seizing the Heaven''s Eye part of some greater scheme? Tuor, Isamu, and Sahshir stood by, and Sahshir wondered why he''d chosen Isamu. There was some angle or purpose at work here that Sahshir did not understand. There was a suspicion growing in his mind.


    What was Tuor playing at?


    Was he truly acting as the Disciple of Baltoth? Or was this his agenda? And if it was, was he working for Elranor? Or perhaps merely working with him. Sahshir could certainly see Tuor turning on Baltoth. His ideology did not prize loyalty. And Tuor was a potential Heir of Kings.


    So was Sahshir.


    But then, why this mission? What did he gain by it?


    Night fell, and the three of them descended toward the walls. Coming to the walls, they saw a man patrolling. Sahshir hurled a rope and grapple and scaled up in moments. Even as the man turned around, Sahshir slashed with his ghost blade. The man fell, and Sahshir caught him before lowering him silently to the ground.


    As the others came up, they made their way down the steps. "Don''t take any lives without need. The more bodies we spill over the flagstones, the more difficult our task will become."


    "Right, nice to know things are getting even more difficult," said Isamu.


    Moving through the castle seemed almost empty¡ªTuor brought them through the halls. They were all white-walled and well-maintained, with fine tapestries. Several times, Sahshir saw libraries. Finally, they came into a chapel. There, on an altar, stood a rainbow stone. Many seats were set before it, and a statue of Elranor stood. The stone radiated a sort of warmth and sent forth a will. Sahshir reached out for it.


    "It''s beautiful," said Sahshir.


    "Also a fake," said Tuor. "Pay it no mind; that gem is merely a vessel into which the Heaven''s Eye flows its power. Elranor would not be fool enough to put it in an exposed place.


    "The true gem lies in Anoa''s secret vault.


    "Arengeth, Pandora, and I sealed it there ourselves.


    "Observe." S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He moved over to the statue and felt the decorations on the wall. Pressing the designs, a door slid away beneath his hand. In they went, and beyond was a tunnel leading downward. Isamu had to duck to move through it. "So, we''re going to face Orson soon, right?"


    "And some other possible enemies, yes," said Tuor. "Knowing him-"


    Then, they came out of the tunnel and into a huge circular room. At the center was an altar, and on it stood a stone, much like the one before. Yet it was difficult to gaze on, and Sahshir was forced to look away. Around him, he saw mirrors on every wall.


    "It has been many years, Tuor," said a voice.


    There was a flash, and an ordinary-looking man in a simple white tunic appeared before them. In one hand was a sword. Tuor drew his nunchucks. "...Davian, is it now?"


    "That is the name I have been called for many generations, yes," said Davian with a shrug. "A common footman who is in many places at once. A humble servant with many responsibilities."


    "I''m surprised you let us get this far unhalted," scoffed Tuor. "Or are you fighting against your orders?"


    "Don''t be absurd," said Davian. "It was not by Anoa''s spellwork that I am bound to this place; I broke that long ago. No, I remain because my task is important and must be done.


    "What of you, Tuor? I remember a boy with a true ambition to bring order and peace to a wartorn world?"


    "That boy died long ago," said Tuor. "Step aside, or you will be destroyed."


    Davian looked at his sword. "...I suppose I could. All of us have a duty we must fulfill. Each person has come into existence to fulfill a certain role in the name of a higher power. Orson was born to serve his King, but when he failed in that, he was destroyed.


    "And the Heir of Kings...


    "The Heir of Kings was meant to destroy Baltoth."


    "You mean to oppose us, then?" guessed Tuor.


    "Oppose?" asked Davian. "No.


    "I''m going to kill you. Draw your swords. I shall not fight opponents who are not ready to defend themselves."


    Sahshir and Isamu both complied, and they fanned out to approach. Tuor smiled. "You always were too honorable for your own good."


    "Was I?" asked Davian. "I seem to recall that it was dishonor that destroyed me. Wickedness destroys a man, not virtues. As you shall learn!"


    And then he was no longer Davian but Orson. His tunic became shining white armor, and his blades shone brilliantly. In a moment, his sword was coming toward Sahshir''s throat. Bringing around his blade, Sahshir parried the strike, only to be driven back across the room. A wound nicked his hand, then his legs, and he fell to one knee.


    Orson raised his sword for the final blow, but Isamu came from behind with a roar. Orson turned, parried Isamu''s blow, and pushed him. Tuor came at him from behind with a flurry of blows. Yet Orson dodged and weaved even as he disarmed Isamu and stabbed him in the stomach. Drawing out the blade, he whirled, cut Tuor''s nunchucks in half by the chain, and nearly took his head off.


    Tuor backflipped away before drawing out kunai and hurling three. Orson caught them on his shield, even as Sahshir sprang into the air and plunged the Sword of Order down. However, Orson sidestepped and brought around his blade. Sahshir could twist mid-air to avoid losing his head, but Orson bashed him with his shield.


    Sahshir was thrown back and hit the ground. Looking up, he saw Isamu rising up, looking a bit cautious. Orson stood ready, waiting for them to compose themselves.


    "You fight with skill for one of your afflictions," mused Orson. "One more victim of Tuor, then?"


    "Silence!" said Sahshir, fanning out.


    Then, all three of them attacked at once. They came to Orson from three directions at the same time, but he stepped out of their reach. As they attacked, his blade and shield moved in a blur. Every strike they made failed so that Orson''s armor seemed useless. And then he began to inflict small wounds on each of them.


    This was ridiculous!


    Then Sahshir saw the Heaven''s Eye.


    Blocking a strike from Orson, he sprang away toward the Heaven''s Eye. Even as he did, however, Orson reappeared in front of him. Bringing around his sword, Sahshir caught it. Then he grabbed Orson''s shoulder with his metal hand. Vaulting over him, Sahshir lost his grip on the Sword of Order as Orson twisted with one hand.


    Dropping the blade, Sahshir whirled around with his metal hand. He caught Orson''s blade as it came down. It cut deep into the steel, and Sahshir was pinned to the altar. Reaching out, Sahshir snatched the Heaven''s Eye.


    And then all was light.


    Sahshir''s pain was all gone, and he was falling through light. At last, he came face to face with a white figure with skin like freshly fallen snow. Sahshir knew him at once. "Elranor."


    Elranor smiled. "Greetings to you, King Sahshir of Kalthak. I believe we have a great deal to discuss."


    So Sahshir had been right. The only question was about what?

 Chapter Twenty-Five: Meeting with a God

    Sahshir''s hand went to his sword at once. However, he found it was not at his side. The pain was also gone, and he looked at his hand to see it whole and unmarred. Around him was a snowy field. Elranor moved forward, but Sahshir turned his back on him.


    "We have nothing to speak of, Elranor," said Sahshir. "The Heaven''s Eye is Baltoth''s."


    "One more thing taken which he has no right to, then?" asked Elranor.


    "Baltoth is Eternal," said Sahshir.


    "And yet there are prophecies of his end?" noted Elranor. "Prophecies, he fears even now."


    "That will not happen," said Sahshir, walking through the snow. "Baltoth accounts for all and fears nothing."


    "Why do you serve him?" asked Elranor. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sahshir halted and glanced back to the god. "It is my duty."


    "Is it?" asked Elranor. "We''re not your ancestor''s servants of Safara? And their ancestor''s servants of Garacel? And did not many serve Rammas for a time? Baltoth is a comparatively new deity."


    "Baltoth brought order from chaos," replied Sahshir.


    "And yet Valranor predates him, does he not?" asked Elranor. "Was he not the Lord of Order before?"


    "Valranor was an imposter," said Sahshir simply. "He set himself in a place undeserved."


    "Really?" asked Elranor. "Did not Baltoth begin as Lord of Pride? Why should the greatest of all gods willingly cede his chosen domain to an enemy?"


    "For a time," replied Sahshir. "However, that title has passed to Adrianeth."


    "What is he then?" asked Elranor. "Lord of Pride? Or Lord of Order?


    "Or perhaps the agent of Typhos.


    "Did he not wield the Blade of Chaos long ago?"


    "Baltoth is," replied Sahshir simply.


    "Or he is not," noted Elranor. "How can you know he is the supreme god you claim him to be? Do you truly believe him to be eternal? Or are you just using that as an excuse to seek your own ideology?"


    "Your words mean nothing to me," said Sahshir with a shrug. "You are a liar, and you have no truth."


    "You believe that virtue and justice must be sought, regardless of results, do you not?" asked Elranor.


    "Of course," said Sahshir.


    "A fine answer," mused Elranor. "I wonder if you truly believe it."


    Then the view changed, and Sahshir saw three people. A man and woman clad in white, and a longhaired, dark-skinned boy. "This man was a tax collector in Calisha. He loved his family and sought to do his best in every situation. He gave extra money to help the poor and believed in Baltoth without his heart.


    "Unfortunately, he was also skimming a small amount of money off the top.


    "His son, who believed in Baltoth, reported him." The view changed to a ground of execution, where dozens of people screamed. Nailed to crosses, they were raised up in the sight of the people, their legs being broken. "And so the man was crucified alongside many others. To repay the debt, Baltoth sold his wife and child into slavery. The mother expired on the journey, leaving the son alone." The vision showed the boy standing over his dead mother before being dragged away.


    "He was purchased, sent to the sugar plantations of Sorn, and worked to death over a miserable few weeks." Visions went before Sahshir as he watched the boy, starving and burned, waste away in a ditch.


    "Was this justice?"


    "Who is it whose fleets sail the seas and take slaves, Elranor?" asked Sahshir.


    "All nations have their atrocities, but that does not answer the question," said Elranor. "Was this justice?"


    "Baltoth set an example of him to prevent corruption," replied Sahshir.


    "And so he and his family must suffer a grisly fate disproportionate to their crimes," noted Elranor. "All so that others will live in terror, and still more distant people need not fear corruption.


    "Is that justice?"


    "The guilty shall often accuse to distract from their inequities," noted Sahshir.


    "But is it justice?" asked Elranor.


    Sahshir looked at the visions of the boy for a long time before sighing. "...No."


    "But if Baltoth is the supreme being you claim him to be, then he cannot be wrong, can he?" asked Elranor. "To possess a flaw is to be imperfect? And to be imperfect is to be limited and therefore not supreme.


    "What does it say that he should be the Dark Lord of Harlenor, just as I am the Dark Lord of Calisha? Should not his very nature overawe all who hear his name?"


    "You speak in riddles to conceal your true purpose," said Sahshir. "Why don''t you speak plainly, as a man does? What is it you want in this?"


    "I wonder if you would allow me to heal you," said Elranor.


    "What?" said Sahshir, taken aback.


    "I am the God of Healing," said Elranor. "It is well within my power to undo what Laevian has done to you. Certainly, it is not just for you to suffer for the sins of your father."


    "It is written: ''Beware gifts given freely, for they always have a price.'' What is the price?" asked Sahshir. "Shall I lay my sword at your feet and pledge loyalty?"


    "None at all," said Elranor. "I shall heal you fully and expect nothing in return. I do this simply as an act of goodwill."


    "Goodwill offered even as I take from you your greatest artifact?" asked Sahshir. There was something more to this. Had Tuor known Elranor would make this offer?


    "The Heaven''s Eye will avail Baltoth nothing. And you may say as much to him," said Elranor. "He cannot use it, for it is tied to my will and will alone. Only those of my blood can carry it. And I do not think he will trust either of you.


    "Rather, he will wish it locked away, where none can use it."


    "His purposes for the gem are of no concern," replied Sahshir. "It is enough for me to know that he desires it, so I shall oblige."


    "Are you certain Baltoth desires it?" asked Elranor. "Not Suloth? Not Neseriah? Not Tuor-"


    "He is the Disciple of Baltoth!" snarled Sahshir. "His loyalty is without question."


    "Are you sure it is his loyalty beyond question?" asked Elranor. "Are you certain Baltoth''s children might not scheme against him? How do you know that by staying true to Baltoth, you will not commit to killing his sons and daughters? Perhaps facing all of Calisha."


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    "Baltoth is Calisha," replied Sahshir. Yet he found his will could have been stronger.


    "Is he?" asked Elranor. "I hadn''t noticed.


    "No tyrant may rule by fear forever. No matter how well-made the chains he builds, they shall rust and break. And always his slaves shall seek a way out."


    "You speak of what you don''t understand," said Sahshir. "That we belong to ourselves is the worst lie ever told by one mortal to another. Each one of us belongs to something greater than ourselves. We become ourselves fully by becoming one with that greater entity. And to defy it is to become less with every breath of rebellion."


    "And what if you are rebelling?" asked Elranor. "What if Baltoth ordered the utter destruction of Kalthak tomorrow? What if he ordered you to put your friends and family to the sword in his name? Would you do so?"


    "Of course," said Sahshir without a second''s hesitation.


    Elranor seemed taken aback. "...That is not an answer I would expect from one so intelligent."


    "The Baltoth I serve is wise and powerful," replied Sahshir. "He would not command such a sacrifice unless it served a purpose. If he came before me and commanded I do such a thing, he would explain why. If he did not, he would not be Baltoth, and if his explanation was for his amusement, the same applies. He would merely be an imposter wearing his skin."


    "And how do you know that the Baltoth in Ruscow is not such an imposter?" asked Elranor.


    "Do you have an alternative?" asked Sahshir. "Or are you merely spreading doubt in an enemy to weaken them?


    "I shall not be led astray by simple doubt.


    "To submit to you would be to yield my realm to the tender mercies of those like Argath Marn and Tanith Telus. Calisha has already seen the honor of Harlenor. They are bold and uncompromising when plundering those who cannot defend themselves. But they seek a truce in the face of real battle."


    "Then your vendetta is East against West?" mused Elranor.


    "Of course not," said Sahshir. "However, no word spoken by you or any Harlenorian can be trusted fully. To throw down Baltoth would be to yield the world to you. And that shall never happen while I draw breath."


    Elranor shifted, and there seemed to be doubt within him. "...You are a good man, Sahshir.


    "Will you allow me to heal you?"


    For a moment, Sahshir considered accepting. But, if it were Baltoth''s will that he be healed, it would not be by the hand of his enemy.


    "I want nothing from you, Elranor," said Sahshir simply. "The Heaven''s Eye is Baltoth''s."


    Then his eyes opened.


    His metal hand was still broken, but Orson was gone. Pulling himself up, he held the Heaven''s Eye in his hand. It sent soothing energy through him, offering a quick and easy solution to his pains. But Sahshir would not be deceived; he would ask Baltoth to heal him when he gave him the stone.


    Pain was nothing, and neither was the flesh.


    "Sahshir, are you alright?" asked Isamu.


    Sahshir rose and picked up the Sword of Order quickly. "Yes. I have claimed it. Where is Orson?"


    "As soon as you grabbed the gem, he disappeared," said Isamu, whose wounds were healing. "That guy was the best fighter I''ve ever run into. I wish we''d brought the others."


    Tuor said nothing, but there was something strange about his manner. "Good, let us leave now."


    "So um, is this fortress going to start collapsing now or..." began Isamu.


    "Don''t be foolish, Isamu," said Tuor. "Only an idiot builds a fortress that can''t be held up without the need for magic."


    "So we just walk out?" asked Isamu.


    "No need for that," said Tuor. "Sahshir, give me the eye. I will move us from this place."


    Sahshir hesitated a moment and finally offered the gem to Tuor. Yet, as Tuor took it in hand, he did not let go. There was a flash, and they were back at the camp, where Nagos was speaking to Urus and Cadas about some story.


    "You''re back, how are-" began Oresa.


    "We have to go now," said Sahshir. "Pack everything, and let''s get out."


    There was no sign of pursuit yet, but Sahshir was not content to bet their mission on that remaining the case.


    The journey that followed was silent, annoying, and disturbingly quiet.


    They moved, and Sahshir glanced back to see who was following them. Tuor led them at an erratic pace, sometimes doubling back to evade notice. No one felt like speaking.


    The trees seemed to hold threats with them.


    "Who are these, anyway?" asked Isamu. "And how did you get their allegiance."


    "A merchant from Seathorius, of course," said Tuor. "Savior''s Run has recently become open for merchants to go to and fro.


    "Among them are my agents.


    "Duke Vanion Gabriel can be thanked for that."


    "Gabriel again," mused Sahshir.


    "House Gabriel''s efforts seem to have conspired to ensure our success, have they not?" asked Urus. "Is he one of us?"


    "Don''t be absurd," said Tuor. "Vanion smashed two attempts on our part to seize Artarq. He is an enemy. Merely one with an understanding of the benefits of trade and open borders."


    "And what of the wolves within the Wolven Forest?" asked Sahshir.


    "They serve Baltoth, of course," said Isamu. "Telix is their sire, and he is a son of Baltoth. None may defy him."


    "Right, because as we all know, sons are bound to the will of their fathers," said Isamu. "And no son of Baltoth has ever betrayed him." The sarcasm could be cut with a knife.


    "I take your point," mused Tuor as they neared. "These arrangements were set up before Telix was nominally allied with Gel Carn. So, we shall simply have to take our chances."


    Sahshir suddenly halted and glanced back. His hair stood on end, and he sensed men moving through the forests.


    "What is it?" asked Urus.


    "...Men are coming through the forest after us," said Sahshir, seeing them. "The woodsmen are after us. Wolves are coming as well."


    "Quickly, up into the trees," said Sahshir.


    Quickly, they scrambled up, doing their best to wipe away their tracks with a branch. Scaling up the tree, Sahshir drew the Sword of Order and focused through it. Closing his eyes, he focused his will on hiding them from their enemies. Below them, he saw the woodsmen emerge.


    They went clad for war, with swords as well as bows. As they came, they were stopped by many wolves. At their head was a bearded man who seemed half-wolf. "You there, human, what is the meaning of this?"


    "The Heaven''s Eye has been stolen, Rustoff," said the man. "We''ve tracked those responsible here. Do you know of them?"


    "We scented several unusual smells," mused Rustoff, glancing up. "There are sons of Baltoth among them."


    "Are you sure?" asked the man.


    "Quite," said Rustoff.


    "Will you aid us or thwart us?" asked the man.


    "Our honor binds us to Adrian and through him, you," said Rustoff. "My wolves are at your disposal."


    "Then fan out and help us to find them," replied the man.


    And so they spread out, with Rustoff glancing at the branches.


    Quickly, they descended, though Sahshir suspected that Rustoff was actually on their side. He had likely noticed them and chosen not to mention as much.


    "Come, let''s go," said Tuor. "To the river, they''ll surely discover us soon. We''ll dispense with stealth."


    And they ran.


    They had not gone far as they ran across the woods before they heard the howl of a wolf. Together, they sprinted all the faster, led by Tuor. Suddenly, Oresa let out a cry and fell. Sahshir turned and ran back but saw Isamu kneeling to grab her.


    "Come on!" said Sahshir. "Quickly!"


    They ran out of the trees to the banks of Savior''s Run. There, they saw a longboat crewed by dwarves. Sitting on a rock in front of them was a black-haired dwarf wearing a skull on his head. In one hand was a gnarled staff. "Master Tuor, my lord foresaw-"


    "Get the ship moving, Devrox! Now!" snapped Tuor, halting by the gangplank. "All of you go first. Go, go, go."


    Sahshir stopped and led the others to rush onto the ships, keeping his sword ready. Counting them as they went, he finally turned and ran onto the ship. Tuor followed behind him, and the gangplank was pulled up. Arrows came out of the trees to land in the woods.


    Oars were put out as the ship was launched onto the river, moving against the current. Their progress was slow, but then Devrox raised his staff. The river around them seemed to let them pass somehow. They shot through the water. Sahshir sensed something in the air, something horrible.


    A malignant presence seemed to snarl around them.


    Which god did this Devrox serve?


    Whoever it was, it was powerful indeed. The ship cut through the water rapidly, leaving waves behind it. It only slowed little by little.


    "Tuor, who are these who have joined us?" said Sahshir after a moment.


    "Hail and well met, King Sahshir," said Devrox. "I am Devrox, High Priest of the Dark Nakmar."


    "Dark Nakmar?" asked Sahshir.


    "A term given to us by outsiders," said Devrox. "We are those Nakmar who serve the demonic archons, Zigildrazia, Melchious, and Lucius.


    "We are, in truth, merely Nakmar with different gods.


    "However, for convenience, we are referred to as Dark Nakmar."


    "You worship the Demonic Archons," said Isamu.


    "Do not we all?" asked Devrox. "Among them is Baltoth, Baltoth. Denram, see if you can collect the arrows. We could make use of them."


    A dwarvish boy near him nodded. "Yes, Uncle." And he began to pull the arrows out.


    "Why have you come out here?" asked Urus.


    "It is the will of the Dark Gods that the Heaven''s Eye is transported safely to Calisha," said Devrox. "And so I shall ensure you get there safely."


    "And how shall we arrive there?" said Sahshir. "Savior''s Run passes directly through Antion. Andoa II shares the name ''the Bright'' for a reason. We shall not pass unnoticed."


    "On the contrary," said Tuor. "The city of Antion has many... less savory aspects. The underworld in that place will be ideal for our purposes."


    "I thought the plan was to go out through Sorn," said Nagos.


    "Plans change," said Tuor.


    "Yeah, well, I don''t want to change them without reason!" snapped Isamu. "I say we jump off this damn ship as soon as we''re clear, head for Sorn, get back with Belosh, and get out! I''ve had it with this cloak-and-dagger idiocy."


    "We''d have to head through the domain of House Korlac for that," noted Tuor. "They have destroyed virtually every smuggler and pirate group in that region. And they keep a keen watch on the roads."


    "He''s right, Isamu," conceded Sahshir. "Besides, Sorn may not be happy to see any of us. Sen Kaba may end up stealing the Eye for himself if he gets a chance. I trust none of those merchants."


    "Isamu is right," said Urus. "Going through Antion is a bad idea."


    "Why don''t we vote?" asked Oresa.


    "Vote?" asked Tuor.


    "Why not," said Sahshir.


    Alkela motioned quickly, and Sahshir nodded. "Alkela desires to go through Seathorius. She wishes to see the land for herself. I will also attend to some personal matters, though I have no idea what she is talking about." He''d talk to her about that later.


    "I, um, I want to see this Seathorius place," admitted Oresa. "I''ve read many stories of Baltoth''s adventures there, and I''d like to see what it''s like."


    "I need not say where I stand since this was my plan," said Tuor.


    "Nagos, what about you?" asked Sahshir.


    "Much as I like exploring, I''d like to meet up with Serna again," said Nagos. "I''m sure many things have come up I need to tend to, and, well...


    "I''m not sure Baltoth will like the King of Chaminus showing up unannounced.


    "Besides, I''ll bet I could set up a false trail for anyone following us to go by. It could throw them off the scent."


    "How will you do that by yourself?" asked Isamu.


    "I won''t be doing it myself; I''ll be doing it with the help of the friends we made along the way," said Nagos.


    "Who would those be?" asked Sahshir.


    "That was sarcasm, and I was talking about Garrick, Sen Kaba, and the Fish King," said Nagos.


    "Sahshir, what say you?" asked Tuor.


    Sahshir considered his answer carefully. "...Savior''s Run will take us near House Gabriel''s holdings, will it not?"


    "Yes," said Tuor.


    "Then I choose the river," said Sahshir. "I want to see for myself the works of this House. They seem to influence so many lands while ruling none of them." He looked to Nagos. "Are you sure you wish to go alone?"


    "Of course," said Nagos.


    "Then our course is set," said Tuor. "We need only achieve it now."


    This mission became more dangerous at the moment. And yet, one could not see the danger. Only those it worked through.

 The Curse of Fortenex

    Thank you to everyone who has read this far in my series, Heaven and Hellfire. I really appreciate your efforts. If you haven''t already, could you favorite and follow this.


    Tomorrow, I plan to release the next installment of William''s story. This one is entitled the Curse of Fortenex. It will follow up on the Web of Iron and expand the scope of the world. In case you''re interested, I have begun posting individual books. The first three installments are nearly complete.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Many of them feature new pictures and theme music to go with events. If you could favorite and follow those, it would help a lot. A review would be even better.


    For now, stay tuned for the next installment of William''s story. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Prologue: A Call for Vengeance

    In the wake of the destruction wrought on the Iron Kingdom, Fortenex was well pleased. From his chariot high in the skies, he looked down upon the world with keen eyes. His gaze turned to a remote clifftop near the land of giants. There, his lover, Drenda, stood at the edge of a high cliff. Her dark hair flowed around her in the hills as she went clad in ragged, red robes, and her clawed hands were in place. With her was a satyr clad in red robes with a steel mask: the High Priest, Karasush.


    "It is done. Fortenex has kept his word," said Drenda, voice filled with pride. "The humans and dwarves have torn each other to pieces by his hand. Melchious has been denied his weapon. We may flow out over this land and take it for our own."


    Even as she spoke, Fortenex reached out with one hand. Across the world, monsters and races long forgotten began to stir. Not just in Viokinar but in many other domains. From the reaches of the far south of Gel Carn. To ancient groves in Themious, even other worlds. The power that was now stirring could not be halted.


    Nor should it.


    "Do not be too hasty, Drenda," said Karasush, calm and collected as always. Karasush had a rare knack for keeping his head, making him valuable to Fortenex. "My satyrs have come to me. They tell me that many villages survived the purge. And among them are Byran and Raka. Two of the great warriors of the Iron Kingdom remain, and they are working to recreate it.


    "Even now, they give assistance to those that remain, and their blades are at hand. And more come, for a fleet of ships under Vanion Gabriel may thwart your plans."


    Vanion.


    Always Vanion.


    A regular trickster mixed with Lord of Order at that. He and Karasush were cut of the same cloth. However, Vanion was the stronger at present. Fortenex would have to do something about this, wouldn''t he?


    Drenda smiled. "It hardly matters, for we have grown while they shrank. They are few, and we are many. They cannot stop us from seizing this land.


    "I only hope that Grendesh may arrive. He has been gone a long time."


    Then Fortenex saw something rushing in the underbrush. Out of the trees burst his son''s trailing blood. Grendesh had only a stump where his hand had once been. It was bleeding copiously, and he had been injured. Great tears were coming from the giant''s eyes as he fell to the ground at Drenda''s feet.


    So, Gabriel had defeated him.


    "Grendesh! Grendesh, what has happened?" asked Drenda, setting about healing him by spell. And her voice was filled with mourning.


    Fortenex turned his chariot and sent his wives rushing toward Drenda. He heard it all as he shot through the air on the wind. Grendesh looked up, eyes drooping.


    "Mother..." he gasped.


    "Bring me bandages and herbs, quickly!" said Karasush. And they were brought forward.


    "Grendesh, your poor hand!" said Drenda, kneeling by him. "Who has done this to you."


    "William... Gabriel..." gasped Grendesh.


    Then he collapsed. That name.


    Fortenex had heard it a great deal lately.


    Drenda tended to his wounds. Fortenex felt anger coming into his thoughts. They were coursing through him like the tides of hellfire. William Gabriel had interfered with his plans again. Not stopped them, of course, they could not stop it. But he had made Fortenex pay a high price and put future barriers in the path of the future. This time, it had cost the hand of one of his children. His mortal children.


    "Fortenex! Fortenex, my love who found me in the ruins of my village!" cried Drenda. "Come to me! Grant me an audience!"


    Fortenex surged down from the sky and drew his chariot to a halt. And though he felt nothing for Grendesh, he would honor his son and his consort. "You called me name, Drenda. And I have come to you."


    "A warrior called William Gabriel has maimed my son!" said Drenda. "Curse him, my love! Let all his journeys be cursed! May his companions die and all that he labors for come to ruin! Let him die alone!"


    "This name I know of well," said Fortenex, pleased that her desires were so close to his own. "For one of my daughters has long fought with him. By his hand were some of the people in this land spared. More battles would have to be fought, which, without him, would not have happened at all.


    "Yet he is well guarded. He is precious to many gods, who are my enemies."


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    "Then will you allow this ruination of our son?" asked Drenda. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No, my lady," said Fortenex, feeling fury at the injury dealt to his beloved flesh. The winds howled as he spoke, and Zeya''s lightning smote the rocks to create avalanches in the passes. The air howled with the cries of the Iron Kingdom''s victors. "I shall not. For your sake, my curse shall be upon him. Yet it shall be a long time in the working. I will strive to do all that you have asked. My will shall be his downfall, but it shall not be through my hand or my subjects'' hands.


    "And the wound of our son shall not be forever. For I will have my goblins forge a claw of iron, and it shall be set over the stump. When I cast my spell over it, he shall move it as he did his fingers. And it shall grip harder than any mortal hand.


    "Now, my lady, I must depart. For the beginnings of my curse must be sewn."


    He cupped Drenda by the cheek, then looked to where Karasush was tending to Grendesh. A meaningless formality it was. But he would perform it nonetheless, for one must hold their lover in affection. Finally, he turned and leaped back onto his chariot. He whipped the goat-formed women harnessed into them and drove them away.


    He shot across the great western ocean, far from the frozen north, and cold fell on the lands. And as he flew, he soon came to far more green and fertile lands. And he found a great mountain, greater than any other in that domain.


    He rode his chariot downwards and brought it to a halt near the peak. There, he saw a tall and muscular woman. Her hair was long and white at the moment, but her features were young. Her eyes were golden, and she wore only a loose-fitting white tunic that bared her long legs.


    In one hand was a crackling lightning bolt.


    "Hail Zeya! Queen of the Western Gods!" said Fortenex.


    "Fortenex," said Zeya. "It has been many decades since last you came to the Mount of Olorus."


    "Indeed it has, Mighty Queen," said Fortenex, pleased at his greeting. "Tell me, what are you seeking far below in your domain?"


    "A worthy lay for the night if you must know," said Zeya. Often, she sought worthy men to lie with and rarely found them among her people.


    Fortenex came up behind her and followed her gaze. There was a young man, slight of frame. Probably very handsome by the standards of the western lands. Which meant he was weak, effeminate, and spineless. He was actually picking flowers, which no man of the east would be caught dead doing.


    "What of him?" he asked.


    "Yes, he is fair to look upon," said Zeya. "Yet I am in the mood for one more willful. Stronger of body. Perhaps a farmer''s son; there must be one handsome enough."


    "A farmer? Would not a great warrior be more to your tastes?" said Fortenex.


    "I am not in the mood for women," said Zeya.


    "But there are many men warriors in foreign lands, are there not?" asked Fortenex.


    "I have not gone far afield in many years," mused Zeya. "Elranor does not like me going among his people."


    "Ah, but forbidden fruit has always tasted sweeter, has it not?" asked Fortenex.


    Zeya looked at him in amusement. It''s easy to manipulate this one. "It has. But Elranor is mighty, and I would not risk his displeasure save for one truly great."


    "Then I may have one worthy of your efforts," said Fortenex, and he pointed with one hand from the Mountain of the Gods. "Look there."


    And he turned and motioned far to the east and conjured up the image of a ship. Minotaurs crewed it. Mighty men before the mast, who had sailed to many lands and fought in many battles. All save for five who were mightier still.


    One of the five was a tall woman with wavy blonde hair like a mortal version of Zeya. The second was a Calishan boy, short, thin, and dark of hair and face. Zeya took little notice of him, though Fortenex knew his nature. Then, there was a chimera lounging on the deck with the crew having to step around her. It was an odd choice of companion but a good one.


    Finally, two blonde people, a boy and a girl, stood near the woman. The girl was thin and lean, with a bowl cut for her hair and a gray tunic, and at either side of her belt hung two long blades. The boy wore black armor engraved with images of death. His hair was longer, reaching down to beneath the shoulder. Over one eye was a jagged scar, though whatever had made it had not touched the eye itself. At his side was a black sword inscribed with red runes. Under one arm, he held a helmet with the image of a skull upon the visor.


    "You show me the greatest of my children," noted Zeya.


    "And also her company," said Fortenex. "Her child stands beside her."


    "The prophesied one," mused Zeya. "Yes, I see them. That girl wields two blades instead of a shield and spear."


    "She has been trained in them; you needn''t fear," said Fortenex. "Long she studied in Carn Gable beneath the eyes of the finest warriors. Yet it is to her compatriot that I think you should look."


    "Armor like death itself," said Zeya. "Yet he is very fair beneath it. How did he gain that scar?"


    "He won it fighting one of my daughters," said Fortenex. "He has journeyed far and mastered perils far greater than many warriors twice his age. And faced demons and horrors beyond measure."


    "But he is in the company of Azgora and many others," said Azgora. "I prefer privacy with my conquests."


    "Ah, but you may have it," said Fortenex. "For there is an island called Estal not far to the east where this ship is sailing. If you wish, I will summon a tempest and blow their ship off their right path to Estal. Then, I will quiet the winds about that land and do so for a week or so.


    "In that time, the boy may become separated from his compatriots. And then you may move upon him."


    "And Herus will know nothing of this," said Zeya. "Her gaze rarely goes far beyond Themious, and the Festival of the Hearth is nigh. I will make my move then. My husband will be occupied until I have had my fun. Perhaps I may meet with Azgora''s daughter.


    "If she has not already been instructed in her destiny by Azgora, I may do so myself.


    "Yes, this will fit nicely into my designs."


    "Then I shall stir up the winds," said Fortenex. "One moment." He raised a hand and sent forth his will. The winds shifted and changed. And once Zeya made her move, he''d be sure Herus knew of it.


    His curse would soon be wrought. And many great battles would ensue.


    Zeya was fun to manipulate. It came with being the Goddess of Heroes, or so Fortenex presumed.

 Chapter One: An Unwelcome Landing

    The smell of sweat and the sound of oars cutting through water filled the air. Minotaurs labored on the lower decks to keep the large vessel slicing through the sea. The sun beat down on the fighting top, and the air was hot and heavy. The wind was not as great as he would have liked, but it was something.


    "I wish we were out of this armor," said William, adjusting his cloak.


    "Oh, come on," said Tanith from where she was leaning against the mast. Her hands were on her dual swords. "We''re supposed to be guarding against pirates. If they do show up, we wouldn''t have time to put it on."


    "What pirates are we going to guard against?" asked William. "Calisha and Harlenor are at peace. And we have Estal to our east. By this time, we''re well out of the waters of Viokinar. I don''t see who is going to attack us."


    "I don''t know," admitted Tanith, shrugging. "Merfolk, maybe?" Tanith was very well educated but lacked William''s enduring interest. You had to do a lot to catch her interest.


    "Don''t display your ignorance Tanith," said William. "Merfolk don''t care about the surface world. They have their world beneath the waves. Why would they even want to attack us? Surface goods would be useless to them, and we haven''t done anything to earn their hatred."


    "Krakens?" suggested Tanith, sounding more interested. "Sea serpents? They are known to attack ships. And we did make an enemy of the Iron Kingdom. That Jormungsk creature might come after us."


    "The Iron Kingdom doesn''t exist anymore," said William, remembering the blood and ruins. "You saw what happened to it as well as I. What''s left is a shadow."


    "Right, right, mass death, blood guts, the usual," said Tanith, looking up. "That was fun."


    "Fun?" said William. "Thousands of people are dead!"


    "Yeah, but I don''t know any of them," said Tanith. "And anyway, they aren''t Harlenorians. What happens to them isn''t any of our concern."


    Every time William almost forgot how Tanith had changed, she went and reminded him. She had been as horrified as everyone else when they had been walking amidst the Iron City ruins. Yet, as soon as Viokinar had faded into the distance, Tanith had forgotten what had happened. Or perhaps he pretended to forget; he wasn''t sure.


    William wondered if this was a way of coping with it. He could have chided her, but she wouldn''t have understood. He could have yelled, but that would have made a scene for no reason. So he said nothing.


    Everyone in the Iron Kingdom was dead. Dead because he had failed to save them.


    His musings were interrupted when Hrungeld came up the steps with Mother. Hrungeld stood two heads taller than Mother. Even so, he was the less impressive figure. And Hrungeld was very impressive, being a huge gray minotaur with a long white beard. "Two days, two days, and no wind. We''ll never make it to Artarq at this rate. Not without rationing the food."


    "Then do so," said Mother.


    "There is another thing," said Hrungeld. "I don''t think we''ll be able to feed the illusion. She eats enough for ten men."


    "Massacre can control herself," said William. "She isn''t an animal. She won''t eat us." He looked down to where the chimera was sleeping by his feet and scratched Massacre behind the ears.


    "You can get by eating a little less, can''t you?"


    Massacre''s goat head looked up and looked at William with irritation. "Bah." She said. Her lion head remained where it was, sleeping. Her dragon head rose and looked over the ship''s edge at the sea, smoke rising from her nostrils.


    "William, do you want to spar?" asked Tanith suddenly.


    "Not really, no," admitted William.


    "Oh, come on," said Tanith. "We''ve not had any fighting to do since leaving the Iron Kingdom. A brief spar won''t hurt."


    "It might," said William. "And I''m in no mood for it, Tanith."


    "Fine," said Tanith. "Felix, how about you?"


    Fenix had been sitting in William''s shadow, his eyes closed, and his hands clasped before him on his lap. He opened his eyes and looked at Tanith. "Why don''t you spar with Massacre?"


    "Bah," said Massacre doubtfully.


    "That won''t help my swordplay any," said Tanith. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    If it went on like this, William would have to fight her. He had no desire to end up utterly destroyed like usually happened. "Felix spars with her. That''s an order."


    "Why?" asked Felix.


    "So she''ll stop bothering me," said William.


    Felix narrowed his eyes but stood and drew his sword. "As you command, master. I presume she''ll be made to take off the armor?"


    "Of course," said Tanith. "I want a fair fight, after all."


    "I''ll call a break among the men," said Hrungeld. "It''ll be a bit of entertainment."


    That was how Tanith and Felix faced one another across the lower deck. The minotaurs surrounded them, all watching. Hrungeld had passed out some ale to lighten spirits.


    "So, who will emerge as the victor, do you think?" asked Hrungeld.


    "Tanith," said William.


    "Why are you certain?" asked Hrungeld.


    "Well, because Tanith is a better swordfighter than me," said William, "And I am better than Felix."


    "If Felix loses too quickly, I''d appreciate it if you fought her," said Hrungeld. "The men are hoping for a real fight."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Silence, beast," said Mother. "I should not be so quick to discount Felix, my son. He is cunning."


    Then it began. Tanith rushed at Felix with a howl. Both her swords were drawn, and he was driven back beneath a flurry of lightning-fast strokes. His red blade moved quickly, but he was hard-pressed not to lose then and there. Then, just as he came within the shadow of the fighting top, he sank into the deck.


    Tanith hesitated, and Felix emerged from her shadow and brought his sword around. She turned and parried the blow. Even as she did, Felix caught her sword in the guard of his weapon and plunged both down into the deck. Tanith brought around her other sword, but Felix ducked and set a hand to her sword''s shadow.


    Melding into it, he appeared behind Tanith and caught her in an armlock from behind. He tried to get his legs around her own, but Tanith kicked off the ground. Both of them were slammed against the side of the deck and collapsed.


    Tanith rose and put her sword to his throat. "I win."


    Then she sheathed her blade and offered him a hand. "Why didn''t you use that shadow spell when we started?"


    "I can''t use my own shadow," said Felix, retrieving his sword. As he did, he fell to one knee in pain.


    William moved quickly over to him. A line of blood seeped down the side of his head where he had hit it. He kneeled by Felix. "Felix, are you all right?"


    "Of course," said Felix. "I''m only bleeding for fun."


    "You''re right; that was a foolish question," said William. He set a hand on Felix''s shoulder.


    Channeling the power of Elranor, he healed Felix''s bruises and his hurt leg. The other boy looked up. "Thank you."


    "You next, Tanith," said William, setting a hand on her arm.


    As she was healed, Tanith smiled at him, and William got a strange feeling of exhilaration from it. "That ability of yours is really useful."


    "It''s not my ability," said William, "It is granted to me by Elranor."


    "I wish Kreshlak would give me something like that," said Tanith. "Maybe inhuman strength."


    "I thought you worshipped Elranor first," said William.


    "I do," said Tanith quickly. "I just... well, I''m not exactly the paladin sort. So I figure if any god is going to grant me powers, it''ll be Kreshlak."


    "I suppose," said William.


    "You will fight her next," said Mother.


    "Mother-" began William.


    "Do it," said Azgora.


    William sighed and went for his sword as Tanith retrieved hers. Then, just as they were about to start, a gust blew between them, sending their hair flowing. Murmurs broke out among the men.


    "The wind is back!" cried Hrungeld. "Hoist the sails, and let''s be off at last."


    There were cheers as they went about their business. The sails were unfurled, and they were soon cutting through the ocean again.


    Massacre yawned and went back to sleep in the middle of the deck. She had the nerve to look affronted when someone tripped over her. Mother approached William at that moment.


    "William, I would speak with you."


    "One moment," said William. "I need to get Massacre to move."


    "Now," said Mother, her tone a command.


    William followed her to an area of the deck where no one was around, and William looked at her face. She seemed to be wrestling with some decision. He wondered what it was. "What is it, Mother?"


    "Now, you have grown old enough and strong enough to know the truth of your destiny," said Mother finally.


    Oh, that. "The one you''ve been vaguely alluding to for my entire life?"


    "Yes," said Mother. "That one."


    "Oh, good," said William. "I thought it might have been some other destiny."


    "You have spent too much time in the company of Felix," noted Mother. "No matter. First, you must know that you come from a long line of Queens. The Gorgals have ruled over the land of Acoria for many generations. Our strength at arms has made it into a mighty land. You are a Prince, William."


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    "I know that much," said William, unsurprised. "But what does this have to do with my destiny?"


    "When I was born, a prophecy was spoken over my crib by a Seer of Laevian," said Azgora. "She said that my firstborn child would be born in a land far to the east. They would end the greatest enemy the people of Themious have ever faced.


    "That enemy is Typhos."


    "The goddess Melchious released from Artarq," guessed William.


    "Yes," said Azgora. "Her unleashing was the first step of the prophecy. Soon, she will arise in might and threaten Themious once again. It took the full strength of Zeya and many other gods to trap her spirit before. However, this time, you will put a final end to her.


    "You must not trust that beast. Massacre is a child of Typhos. She will surely turn against you."


    "If Typhos wanted me dead, she could just sic Massacre on me," noted William. "Why would she have helped me?"


    "Typhos is cunning," said Azgora. "She knows that she cannot defeat the prophecy by direct action. So she hopes to sew doubt in your will by appearing as a friend. But you must not succumb."


    "Mother, I-" began William.


    There was another gust at that moment, and the ship was turned. They were still cutting through the water but were going east instead of south. The timbers groaned beneath the force of their speed. William struggled to keep his feet.


    "What kind of storm is this?" asked William.


    "I don''t know," said Hrugeld. "But Kreshlak is driving us somewhere in a great hurry. He must need us. I''ll not take down these sails."


    They went on like this for a day or two. The neverending howl of the wind disturbed their sleep. Several men almost fell overboard in all the chaos, and only one of them was rescued. It never stopped.


    On the third day, the lookout let out a cry. "Look there, an island! We''ve come to Estal!"


    William and Tanith walked to the ship''s prow and looked at it. It was a very large island, with rocky cliffs almost entirely surrounding it. The only way onto the shore was a beach they were facing, and that beach was lined with many ships. There were towers just beyond the beach where archers patrolled. There was a wall which reached from cliff to cliff. Anyone who wanted to attack Estal would have to break that first.


    "Tanith," said William, "you''ve been here before, haven''t you?" It was a stupid question; of course, she had. She''d written letters about this place in the old days.


    "Yes," said Tanith. "Lord Argath harbored our ships here and used it as a base to raid Calishan villages. Back when we were still at war. It was a lot of fun; you should try it sometime."


    "I don''t think we should stay here," said William.


    "What makes you say that?" asked Tanith. "King Estal is a mighty warrior and a close ally of the three great Harlenorian Kingdoms. His people are descended from the men of Haldren and Antion."


    "Yes, but when Father brooked his truce, Estal refused to cease his raids," said William. "He is standing alone against all of Calisha. This island will fall very soon."


    "You don''t know King Estal, William," said Tanith. "He and his men are dangerous warriors. And the island is very easy to defend. This side of the island is the only place one can come ashore. The Castle of Carn Estal is a great fortress. You could hold off an army twenty times your number in a place like this."


    "You exaggerate," said William, though privately, he thought the defenses very impressive.


    "Even if she doesn''t, it hardly matters," said Felix. "Calisha can field more than that."


    "Oh, come on, Felix. You can''t be serious," said Tanith.


    "Calisha is the greatest empire in the world. The army Duke Vanion defeated was but a vanguard to clear the way," said Felix. "Had Emperor Baltoth put forth his full might, it would have taken the combined might of all Harlenor to halt him. Even if they had succeeded, he would have had forces in reserve to defend his lands.


    "Now he does not face the Harlenorian Kingdoms but a single colony led by an overconfident fool. He can pour forth his full might against them. And he will. Very soon."


    "Well, aren''t you cheery," said Tanith. "Maybe that''s why we''re here."


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "Well, we''ve got some of the best warriors in Harlenor on this ship," said Tanith.


    "No, we don''t," said Felix.


    "Well, we have the Lady Azgora at least," said Tanith. "Maybe the gods want us to save this place."


    "Why would Kreshlak even care?" asked Felix. "He has no worshippers on Estal. Besides, he doesn''t care for borders or victory. Just the flowing of blood and the triumph of his favorites."


    "He might," said Tanith. "Or maybe he just wants tales of the great deeds we will perform here."


    William sighed. "Estal occupies a strategic location. Whoever controls it can launch raids on Calisha, Harlenor, or Viokinar. Once, it was ruled by Viokin Minotaurs. Now, it is ruled by King Estal, who has focused his efforts entirely on Calisha.


    "Kreshlak might not want the Calishans to gain it. Or they might decide to colonize the Iron Kingdom."


    "Hey, that''s a good idea," said Tanith. "It would be easy to do with most people dead."


    "Your Father will get there first," said Mother as she appeared. "He was planning to assail the Iron Kingdom and set up colonies there even before it was laid to waste."


    "He was?" asked William in surprise.


    "Yes," said Mother. "He hoped to use the conquest of the Iron Kingdom as a pretense. A means to eliminate the many sellswords and adventurers who had come to Artarq to fight raishans. He had an army but no one to march against until you were seized."


    "I am glad," said William. "Perhaps Father may save those that remain." There had been some survivors. Those with faith in the gods had been spared. Some others had proven strong enough to resist Melchious''s magic.


    For now, they were going to be the guests of Estal.


    They found a man waiting for them when they arrived in the harbor. He wore long brown robes and had a short black beard and a mustache. His eyes were brown, and his face careworn, although he looked relatively young. His hair was cut short, and he bowed.


    "Greetings to you, noble Lords," he said. "I was told to look for you."


    "You were?" asked Hrungeld. "By who?"


    "Elranor. He appeared in a vision to our High Priest and commanded me to make ready to receive visitors. Ones who will be of great service" said the man. "Follow me."


    "Eitrigg?" asked Tanith as she stepped forward. "When did you become a priest?"


    "Tanith Telus?" asked Eitrigg in surprise. "I didn''t expect to see you again."


    "You didn''t answer my question," said Tanith. "Monk robes don''t suit you."


    "Maybe not," said Eitrigg. "But I mean to make amends."


    "Amends?" asked Tanith. "For what? You were a great warrior. Eitrigg and I sailed together under Lord Marn! We must have sacked a dozen towns!"


    "You have said the source of my shame," said Eitrigg.


    "Oh, come on," said Tanith. "They were Calishans. Killing them is doing the world a favor. And them a favor since they won''t have to serve Baltoth anymore. They don''t have to worry about having horrible things done to them on a whim."


    "Oh, as opposed to when you do horrible things to us on a whim?" asked Felix.


    "I didn''t mean any offense, Felix; you''re an exception," said Tanith.


    "Some taken," said Felix. "Just why do you think- Never mind."


    "Who are your companions?" asked Eitrigg quickly.


    "This is William Gabriel, the son of Duke Vanion Gabriel," said Tanith. "He is a veteran of the Khasmir Campaign and the Raishan Wars. There''s also Lady Azgora, his mother, and his servant Felix. And here is Captain Hrungeld of Viokinar."


    "A strange band. Come. King Estal awaits," said Eitrigg.


    "I''ll see to the ship," said Hrungeld. "Tell King Estal I am merely the transportation."


    He led them quickly from the harbor and through the city''s gates. In the distance, they could see the city of Carn Estal itself. It had high walls, higher than any fortress William had seen. The gates were thick, and there was a colorful banner overhead. The symbol of a white shark is on a blue background.


    As they marched, they traveled through several villages. There looked to be small celebrations going on. Bonfires were being lit here, and a great deal of feasting was going on, at least by commoner standards.


    Eventually, they came to a great gorge around ten feet wide in the narrowest places. Below, there were many rocks with a swift river running through them. A man who fell into those would be battered to pieces in minutes. The gorge ran from the cliff''s edge, through the mountain, and beyond out to sea. William felt a bit woozy, looking at how deep it was.


    "How did that gorge form?" he asked.


    "One of the King''s of Estal offended Barden," said Eitrigg. "So he carved a gulf between the island. We call it Barden''s Gorge."


    "What was the offense?" asked William.


    "Truth be told, I can''t remember," said Eitrigg. "I don''t know much about the lore of Barden. My service is to Elranor."


    "The first King of Estal, King Aegesir Estal, offered to build a great temple in Barden''s honor. If he would grant his people a great harvest for ten years," said Tanith. "When it was done, the King was reluctant to build the temple. So Barden tore this gorge in the land so no one could travel to or from one to another. No bridge could stand, and all the business had to be done by ship."


    "How could they do anything by ship?" asked William. "It''s a sheer rock face all around except how we came in."


    "They would bring a ship to the cliff, and goods would be lowered up and down," said Tanith. "It wasn''t nearly enough. They could only transfer essential goods, and people still went hungry. Most of the fertile land is on this side of the river.


    "Anyway, the King built the temple and humbled himself before Barden. And when that was done, they could build a bridge across it. Now it is only one way across." She pointed upriver to a formidable stone bridge. "That way. It''s a great defense."


    "Right," said Eitrigg, "I forgot your interest in divine history, Tanith."


    They crossed the bridge and passed a few more villages before, at last, they came before the gates of Estal. These were far larger up close than William had guessed they would be. Looking at them made him feel very small, and he wondered how any attacker could hope to get in. He''d never seen the defenses of the Iron City back in Viokinar. But he guessed they must be something like this.


    As they entered the city, they saw colorful banners hanging from the walls of buildings. People wore bright colors and danced and ate and sang. Merchants were selling trophies. All sorts of entertainment could be seen¡ªbear baiting, for one, and also maypoles.


    "What is this? A festival?" asked Azgora.


    "Yes," said Eitrigg. "To celebrate peace in our time."


    "Then King Estal has agreed with Calisha?" said William.


    "When word of the truce came, a raid had just been sent out, so King Estal could not agree. Not without being an oathbreaker," said Eitrigg. "It was recalled, and with the aid of Duke Vanion, an agreement has finally been reached. His son, Aris, is traveling to the capital of Ruscow to finalize the agreement."


    "Aris?" asked Tanith. "I was hoping to see him when we got here. It''s been a while since we raided the shores of Calisha. Shame, we''re at the beginnings of peace."


    "I do not think it a shame," said Eitrigg.


    "Why did Elranor tell you to await us?" asked William. "Did he give his purpose?"


    "He claimed that your coming would mean the end of the old hatreds," said Eitrigg. "None were sure what he meant."


    "I''ll have to pray to him later," said William. "I have not done that nearly enough of late." He looked to Mother. "Mother, are you all right? You''ve been very quiet."


    "I do not like this place," said Azgora. "I sense the presence of Typhos within it."


    "That is the cyclopi at fault," said Eitrigg, an edge in his tone. "They live up on the mountain and herd sheep. They are one of the only sources of worship Typhos has left. Ah, here we are, the palace."


    Eventually, they entered the palace itself. The palace of King Estal was less impressive than the walls. It was not as tall and of older make than other places in the city. It was also very defensible. William guessed that it had been used as a castle at one point. It had probably been before the walls had been made. No doubt, it had been converted to a new purpose as the island became safer.


    Eitrigg was known by the guards and admitted freely along with them. Until, at last, they came to the throne room. It was smaller than the one in Artarq. There was no raised dais upon which the King sat. Instead, there was a high table before the throne. Upon it, men were feasting, and at the head of the table was King Estal. He was seated upon an oaken chair and speaking with several other men.


    He had a short white beard and small eyes. Several scars were on his face, and one of his hands was missing fingers. Even so, he looked up to them as they approached and called for silence. "Young Tanith, it has been two years since last you sailed with my son to war against the Calishans. What brings you back to my home?"


    "We were aiming to return to Artarq," admitted Tanith. "But the wind got the best of us."


    "The winds have been strange of later," mused Estal. "But so brave a warrior is always welcome in my halls. Bring up seats; let Tanith and her companions have a place at my table!"


    Chairs were set out, and the room was made near the King. William only then realized how hungry he was for real food. He''d lived off rations for far too long and hated hungrily, though he tried to show it. Estal looked at Tanith carefully, then at the others. "Tell me, who are those who travel with you?"


    "This is William Gabriel, the son of Duke Vanion Gabriel. He''s pretty good in a fight," said Tanith. "His Mother, Lady Azgora, and Felix, a longtime companion. We''ve done a lot of fighting together."


    "Yes," said Estal. "I had heard of the latest installment of the Raishan Wars and tales of his adventures. You are a man of courage by all accounts, young William."


    William thought this an exaggeration. Tales of his deeds spreading were not due to their extraordinary nature. More because they had been written down. The book he''d published in Antion had spread like wildfire. It was thanks to the recent invention of something called a printing press. It was a Sornian device, supposedly. "My thanks, King Estal. Tanith has told me of the battles she fought in your service. At one time, my wish to fight alongside the fleets was Estal in the raids on Calisha." That was a mild exaggeration; William had expected to do it eventually. But he''d never wanted to. Those days when he''d been so weak-willed and cowardly seemed like another lifetime now.


    "I fear that time may be delayed," said Estal. "The truce has been made, and I cannot stand against Calisha alone. Still, if the tales are true, you would be welcome to stand with us. Lady Azgora, I have heard tales of your beauty and bravery in battle."


    "You will find both greater than the tales boast," said Mother.


    "A proud boast. Yet not all pride is misplaced," said Estal. "You are all of you welcome within my home, of course. I will have rooms prepared for you to stay the night. It is my pleasure to welcome all of you to Antion.


    "Now let us eat, drink, and be merry. For none know what tomorrow brings." It sounded like the best plan anyone had put forward all day. So they went with that.

 Chapter Two: Cloaks, Daggers, and Morpheus

    Kiyora had parted ways with William shortly after she was sure they were out of the woods. She hadn''t dreamed again for several nights. The truth was that with all the adventures she''d been having these past few months, she was sick of them.


    However, she knew she couldn''t stay away from Seathorius forever. Something might have happened while she was gone, and she did rule the place. So she dreamed again. The trees looked much the same as they usually did. However, their spirits were a bit more lethargic. She came to a door as she walked beneath the shadow of the woods. Of course, it was a Nakmar door, which looked like a hillside, but she''d learned to walk through those years ago.


    She passed through the halls and found King Houndslasher. The King of the Nakmar was practicing with a broad axe and clad in his mail. As she entered, he looked up. At once, the black-haired dwarf returned the weapon in its rack and looked at her.


    "Dreaming Goddess, I am glad you are here," said Houndslasher. "Things have not been the same without you."


    "Believe me, I know the feeling," said Kiyora. "Have there been any invasions?"


    "No," said Houndslasher.


    "Demonic possessions?" asked Kiyora.


    "No, nothing of the sort," said Houndslasher.


    "Odd," said Kiyora. She''d been expecting Arraxia to start all kinds of trouble now that she had the Void Stone and the Axe of Fortenex. "Oh well, is there anything you need me for?"


    "No," said Houndslasher. "We have minded our affairs." He paused. "But the woods..."


    "Yes?" asked Kiyora.


    "They''ve been very quiet and silent," said Houndslasher. "They haven''t moved at all. When our sorcerers communed with them, they claimed they were exhausted."


    "Yeah, I had to use a lot of power in a foreign land," said Kiyora. "Long story. It will be a while before I can do any more miracles. You guys will have to handle things without me."


    "I understand," said Houndslasher.


    Kiyora considered Arraxia. She had no idea what the demoness was up to, but she really should find out. "Hey, I''ve got to talk to someone."


    "I understand," said Houndslasher. "Before you go, however, I should tell you. Some of the less faithful are... concerned. We''ve become so used to you doing things for us. Now that you''ve stopped appearing so often, it has downed spirits.


    "Some say you have abandoned us."


    "I didn''t abandon anyone," said Kiyora. "And hundreds of years of good deeds earn a little loyalty."


    "Be that as it may," said Houndslasher, "it would be well if you did a few minor miracles. Just to remind others that you are still watching over them."


    "Okay," said Kiyora. "I''ll see if I can make time. But I''ve been swamped, so no promises." Then, she teleported herself again.


    This time, she appeared outside Baltoth''s Retribution. The great fortress was now nearly rebuilt. Its black walls towered over the surrounding woodlands. The illusion of benevolence was gone, and several satyr villages had sprung up around it. Kiyora focused and then appeared within the great stone hall of Arraxia.


    It was mostly empty. The pillars now had symbols of monsters engraved on them. The ceiling seemed to have gotten higher. The bonfires were burning with an unholy light. At the far end of the room was a throne. And on that throne, Arraxia was lounging.


    The voluptuous demoness had her long legs crossed over the side of the throne. Her dark hair fell across the armrest. The Void Stone was gripped in the palm of one black-skinned hand. Looking at it was as horrible as ever, and she leaned on the Axe of Fortenex. The red axe did not radiate suffering as it once had; the power had been used up.


    "I bet you think you''ve been clever?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, yes," said Arraxia. "I have the Axe of Fortenex and the Void Stone. Melchious has been banished, and I am stronger than ever at no real expense on my part. With their power, I may easily bend you to my will through our connection."


    "You know your sister might be dead?" noted Kiyora.


    "I doubt it," mused Arraxia. "Melchious wouldn''t kill Zigildrazia''s pets. Necrophilia is one of the few depravities in which Demon Queen doesn''t engage. And if he did, I suppose he''s saved me the trouble of breaking her, if nothing else."


    "Well, either way, I think I should let you know I''m not going to let you use those," said Kiyora. Arraxia laughed. "Let me? And who are you to disallow me?!"


    "The Dreaming Goddess," said Kiyora.


    "A mere title to disguise a foolish child playing at divinity," said Arraxia.


    "I''ve done a pretty good job of stopping you so far," said Kiyora.


    "A momentary inconvenience," said Arraxia.


    "What exactly are you going to do with the Void Stone and Axe of Fortenex anyway?" asked Kiyora.


    "Is it not obvious, dear?" asked Arraxia. "With the unbridled power of both, I shall... I will... I..." She paused. Then she sat up straight. "My plan was..." Arraxia looked very thoughtful.


    "You didn''t plan this far ahead, did you?" asked Kiyora.


    "I did," said Arraxia. "I was planning to subdue Seathorius using the Axe of Fortenex. I would have used the Void Stone to create an army of the walking dead to overrun all my neighbors.


    "But right now, I''m almost allied with the surrounding regions. I could break the truce and attack them, but I am not so shortsighted."


    "So you don''t have a plan anymore?" asked Kiyora.


    "I seem to have outsmarted myself," admitted Arraxia.


    "I think you mean Vanion has outsmarted you," noted Kiyora. "Out of curiosity, could you create an army of the walking dead with the Void Stone? Or were you just joking?"


    "Oh, of course," said Arraxia. "All those souls trapped inside it have been festering for hundreds of years. I need only to break them to my will and then implant their souls into the corpses of the dead. Then I could unleash them upon the neighboring regions."


    "Right," said Kiyora. "So, what are you going to do now?"


    "I have no idea," admitted Arraxia. "I suppose I shall continue to strengthen my holdings in Seathorius. So I''ll maintain this alliance for a while more.",


    "Glad to hear it," said Kiyora. "Bye."


    She reappeared outside Baltoth''s Retribution. Quickly running over the situation, Kiyora concluded. It was a pretty obvious one at that.


    "Okay, she''s going to betray us," said Kiyora. "I need to get that stone from her, and I need to do it ASAP. But how? I can''t act directly against her, can I? If I go right up there and steal it, we''ll have a war. I need someone who isn''t allied with her and wouldn''t want Arraxia getting too powerful." Then she had an idea. "That''s it!"


    She snapped her fingers and reappeared within a beautiful golden woodland. The trees here were very tall and had white bark. Walking among them was a breathtakingly beautiful elven woman with gold hair. Yet her eyes were very old.


    Queen Dawn eyed Kiyora in irritation. "Well, what do you want?"


    "Oh, nothing, Queen Dawn," said Kiyora. "I just thought I''d tell you Arraxia has the Void Stone and the Axe of Fortenex."


    Dawn sighed and put her face in her hands. "I told you your association with her would bring nothing but ruin."


    "She isn''t doing anything right now," said Kiyora. "She never expected her plans to work this well, so she''s trying to figure out what to do with them."


    "And you are telling me this because?" asked Dawn.


    "Well, you are enemies with her," said Kiyora. "I figure you might want to initiate some quest to retrieve the Void Stone. You know, before she gets bored enough to do something reckless."


    Dawn remained silent for a long moment. "...I will take this into account."


    "Oh, and if you need help, I could help guide the destined heroes or whatever," said Kiyora. She waved her hands mysteriously. "You know, in spirit."


    "Of course, you could," said Dawn. "Now get out of my domain."


    "Fine, I know my way out," said Kiyora. As she prepared to leave, she sensed a call of sorts. Someone, somewhere, wanted to speak with her.


    Kiyora quickly followed the call and found herself within the halls of the Nakmar again. King Houndslasher was sitting at a table, writing a decree. In front of him was a dwarvish woman clad in brown robes. As Kiyora approached, Houndslasher looked up without surprise. "Dreaming Goddess," he said with a nod. "You return quickly."


    "Well, I got the sense I was wanted over this way," said Kiyora. "How can I help?" S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It is not the Nakmar who desired your presence," admitted Houndslasher. "There is a messenger here for you."


    "A messenger?" asked Kiyora. "Who?"


    "She is from Calisha," said Houndslasher. "Moira, I''ll have this order for a metal filled out soon enough. Could you escort the Dreaming Goddess to Ambassador Emira?"


    "Emira?" said Kiyora. "I remember her."


    "Follow me," said Moira.


    Moira led Kiyora through the winding, circular halls of the Nakmar. They came into a room with a high ceiling and a paved floor. The roots of a tree were growing through the top. That told Kiyora that the above were the Nakmar burial grounds for this settlement. Or, vulture grounds. Whatever they were technically called, Nakmar didn''t bury their dead.


    On the far side of the room was Emira. She appeared to be writing something in quick, small movements. The scratching of her pen annoyed Kiyora. She hated that sound. Moira bowed and looked like she wanted to say something. Then she thought better of it and departed.


    "So I''m told you came looking for me," said Kiyora.


    "Indeed," said Emira. "I come to you bearing a message from Emperor Baltoth himself. He, at this moment, invites you to attend the Festival of the Hearth within Ruscow."


    "The Festival of the Hearth?" asked Kiyora.


    "It is a celebration dedicated to Herus. Lord of Fidelity and Marriage," said Emira. "Held in the dead of winter when the world is coldest."


    "Oh, that''s nice," said Kiyora. "Uh, why is Baltoth inviting me again?"


    "He wishes you to see Calisha with your own eyes," said Emira. "He desires that you do not have your mind clouded by the speeches of Harlenorians."


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora, only half believing it. "When is this festival exactly?"


    "It is a week from now," said Emira. "Though this year''s winter has been very mild. If you wish to attend, you need only focus your will through this stone, which will transport you to the capital." She offered Kiyora a bright blue stone.


    "Okay, cool," said Kiyora, taking it. "I guess I''ll see you there."


    Then she departed and at once met with her high priest. High Priest Bjorn was reading as he usually was in his spare hours. She approached him quickly. "Bjorn, I got this stone from an emissary of Baltoth. Have some sorcerers check this stone for any sign of curses."


    "You don''t think that Emperor Baltoth would do something dishonorable, Dreaming Goddess?" asked Bjorn.


    That was right. The Nakmar held Baltoth in high regard. "Let''s just play it on the safe side," said Kiyora. Then she felt her spirit being drawn back to the world of waking. "...And I''m waking up now."


    She awoke, got up, stretched, brushed her teeth and hair, then dressed. Finally, she went downstairs to eat breakfast with Mom and Dad. She found Dad sketching on a notepad with his pen. Mom was reading this morning''s newspaper, a half-drunk cup of coffee by her.


    "Morning, Mom. Good morning, Dad," she said, sitting down.


    "So Kiyora, how is the application to become a Dream Sage going?" asked Dad.


    "I just sent it in yesterday," said Kiyora. "I don''t know if they''ll get back to me in a month or a year."


    "It may be less than that," noted Mom. "You did say that Lieutenant Escalus recommended you take it." Her voice was hopeful. She''d been against Kiyora''s decision.


    "Yeah, but it''s the most prestigious job in the entire Empire," said Kiyora. "Every kid wants to become a Dream Sage and take time out of their day battling evil."


    "Not me," said Dad, putting down his pen to sip his coffee. "I never wanted to be anything but an artist."


    "Wait, seriously?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Dad. "I''ve always loved drawing. Running across rooftops fighting evil spirits may sound glorious. But I think it is somewhat less fun than one might expect."


    "If it were up to me, they wouldn''t accept anyone under sixty," said Mom.


    "Well, that is the trouble, Mayora," said Dad. "Connections to the spirit world become most powerful when honed early. It would seriously disadvantage the Department of Spiritual Defense if they were to do that."


    "Disadvantage or not, no one is mature enough at that age to make that kind of decision," said Mom.


    "Then why did you let me send it?" asked Kiyora.


    Mom remained silent for a moment. "Well, you''ve already been thrust into things. So it will only make the difference if you become a Dream Sage. Except, in this case, you may be prepared.


    "You were the one who said it first."


    "Or she''ll face even worse dangers," noted Dad. "Tell me about them after the fact, Kiyora. It may help me paint."


    "Dear!" said Mom.


    "I''m only joking, Mayora," said Dad. "Besides, she may not get accepted at all."


    Kiyora got her food and ate hungrily. She didn''t know why, but she''d been starving lately. Finishing it, she looked at the clock and glanced at Mom. "Anyway, I need to get ready for school. Thanks, Mom."


    "Just try not to meet any creatures of eldritch power while you''re there!" said Mom.


    She began making her way down the street. As she did, she admired new construction. Several new buildings were being grown from Actovosh''s roots in her neighborhood. They were still in the early stages of growth, so she could only wonder what they would look like when done.


    She was halfway to Reya''s house to meet her friend en route when she heard a voice.


    "Kiyora..." It said.


    "Wait, is someone calling me?" she asked.


    "Kiyora... help me..." said the voice.


    That sounded important. Kiyora followed the sound and saw a group of kids huddled around a small furry creature. They were poking at it with their feet, and one of them was kicking it.


    "Hey, you kids, leave that poor animal alone!" snapped Kiyora, moving up to them.


    At once, the kids dispersed, and Kiyora saw the animal for what it was. It was like a cat, except it had wings like a dove''s. The symbol of a golden sun was etched onto its brow. It stood up and scratched itself, none the worse for wear.


    "Hello! I''m Morpheus!" said the creature. "I''ll be your Dream Sage Mascot!"


    "Dream Sage Mascot?" asked Kiyora. This was going to be one of those days.


    "Or you can call me an instructor if you like," said Morpheus. "Your application was received and accepted. I''m here to help you with your dream of becoming a Dream Sage."


    "And you were getting beaten up by a bunch of kids because?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, there weren''t any kids," said Morpheus. "That was a secret test of character. We would have counted it as an automatic rejection if you hadn''t stepped in.


    "Now come on! We''ve got a mission!"


    "A mission?" asked Kiyora. "I''ve got school."


    "Don''t worry. It''s all been arranged," said Morpheus. "You''ll be able to make up your work during the summer."


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora. "Thanks for the warning, Morpheus."


    "You''re welcome," said Morpheus.


    "That was sarcasm," said Kiyora.


    "Sar-what?" asked Morpheus.


    "Just lead on," said Kiyora in resignation.


    Morpheus led Kiyora into a series of alleyways, and soon, they were walking through a maze of passages. In some of them, the roots had begun to grow too large and had nearly filled in the alleys. The people who owned the buildings really should have been doing more to guide the growth.


    "Where are we going anyway?" asked Kiyora.


    "A nightmare is manifesting itself in these alleys," said Morpheus. "If we don''t stop it soon, it''ll take a direct place in the world."


    "A nightmare?" asked Kiyora. "Is that one of those things which happen every day? The kind that are kept secret by the Department of Spiritual Defense?"


    "Yes," said Morpheus. "They are evil spirits that try to ruin and destroy this world. And they are the first enemy rookie dream sages are supposed to face."


    "Where do they come from?" asked Kiyora.


    "They''re a side effect of what Dreamer Elves are," said Morpheus. "Your races'' inherent connection to the spirit realm causes natural disruptions. Evil creatures can use these disruptions to crawl through. One of the primary duties of a Dream Sage is to exterminate them."


    "I thought their job was to fuel treeship''s weaponry," said Kiyora.


    "No, those are adult Dream Sages," said Morpheus. "We don''t send children on that kind of dangerous mission."


    "Oh, because fighting eldritch horrors is much safer," said Kiyora.


    "Nope," said Morpheus. "But nightmares aren''t eldritch horrors. They''re parasites. Most just sort of cause people bad dreams when they start. They have to become very strong before they can do any real damage. Also, most of them aren''t smart enough to last this long. This is more like exterminating an infestation of insects.


    "It''s only dangerous if you let things get out of hand."


    "You''re selling me on the glory angle of this job," said Kiyora.


    "Good," said Morpheus. "I''m supposed to keep the Dream Sage lifestyle seeming epic for as long as possible. Though I''m surprised, I''m doing such a good job. I mean, you did kill Laughing Wraith.


    "Compared to that, most of what we run into for the next few months is going to be trivial. Hopefully."


    "Great." said Kiyora. "So, how much am I getting paid again?"


    "It was listed on the form," said Morpheus.


    "I kind of forgot the details," admitted Kiyora.


    "All rookie Dream Sages get paid by the bounty," said Morpheus. "Each nightmare you destroy is worth a certain amount of money, depending on its power. You''ll get a regular paycheck once you qualify for a higher rank.


    "Just think of it as an afterschool activity. Now, we''ve got to focus. We''re nearly there."


    They came to a fence, and beyond it was Reya''s house. There was an eerie light coming from Reya''s window. Within that light was a shadow that seemed to be feasting off of it.


    "Look there, Kiyora!" said Morpheus. "There''s the nightmare! It''s tormenting that girl''s dreams."


    "What do you mean, dreams?" asked Kiyora. "Reya wouldn''t be sleeping now."


    "The nightmare has forced her into a sleep which she can''t wake up from," said Morpheus. "Quick, take this." And out of the air came a long carved white staff. It had the metal symbol of a sun on the end, painted gold. Kiyora took it. "What do I do with this?"


    "Raise the rod and say, ''By the Power of Alchara, I will smite you.''" said Morpheus.


    "That is so lame," said Kiyora.


    "Do it quickly before-" began Morpheus.


    Kiyora raised a hand and channeled her power. A wave of blue energy shot out and hit the shadow. There was a screaming noise, and then it dissipated.


    Morpheus blinked. "-um, that happens."


    "Yeah, I''ve kind of learned to use my power on my own," said Kiyora.


    "Maybe so," said Morpheus. "But you should probably still use the staff."


    "Why?" asked Kiyora.


    "Because when used, that rod naturally focuses your innate dreamer power into it. It allows you to wield it much more efficiently," said Morpheus. "You must have a truly immense amount of dreamer power to be able to kill nightmares without a focus."


    "I''m the Dreaming Goddess," said Kiyora. "People focus on me."


    "I can''t pass you on your first test until you use the rod," said Morpheus. "Now, could you just say the words?"


    "Wait, so you teach me to use the rod while I''ma nightmare is attacking me?" asked Kiyora.


    "You were in no real danger," said Morpheus. "Like I said, nightmares don''t kill at this level. And if you''d really needed help, I could have intervened."


    "So you have powers," asked Kiyora.


    "Yes. All mascots are equipped with power enough to destroy lesser nightmares," said Morpheus. "Just in case inexperienced Dream Sages get into trouble."


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora. "Do I have to invoke the name of Alchara?"


    "Yes," said Morpheus. "That''s the code word."


    "Well, it could be worse, I guess," said Kiyora. "I could be invoking the name of Ictargo."


    "That''s a little harsh," noted Morpheus.


    Kiyora took a stance and raised the staff with the sun symbol pointed away from her. "''By the Power of Alchara, I will smite you!''"


    Suddenly, Kiyora found herself being drawn upward. Her arms were pulled back to either side of her. Light surrounded her entire body, and she felt her clothes disappear. Onto her torso crept a blue corset, which showed off a lot of cleavage. She felt something like a crown on her head, and her hair was tied behind her head in two buns. Long blue gloves were now on her hands, and her pants were replaced with a black miniskirt. Her legs were bare except for a pair of blue leggings, and on her feet were a pair of high heels.


    Kiyora landed as the light faded and looked at her outfit. She realized she was blushing. "Well, this is uh... why the miniskirt exactly?"


    "Style points," said Morpheus.


    "Couldn''t I have battle armor or flowing robes?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, flowing robes might trip you up," said Morpheus. "And battle armor would make it harder to pursue nightmares."


    "What about pants?" asked Kiyora.


    "Um..." Morpheus paused, "style points?"


    "I feel like a prostitute," said Kiyora, feeling somewhat inadequate at the same time. "How do I get out of this? Can I get my clothes back?"


    "Raise the rod and say, ''Let the power of Alchara be returned.''" said Morpheus.


    Kiyora could not raise her staff fast enough. "''Let the power of Alchara be returned.''" The light reappeared, and she was raised into the hair. Her hair went free again, her pants and shirt returned, and she no longer had to wear that stupid tiara. She landed. "So how is this Alchara''s power exactly? Isn''t it my own?"


    "It is your own," said Morpheus. "But children who become Dream Sages are gifted with great powers. The creator of all Dreamer Elves, Alchara, gives them."


    "Except not really," said Kiyora. "The Department of Bloodlines has been breeding powerful Dreamers."


    "Yes, but the Department of Bloodlines was created and is directed by Emperor Ictargo," said Morpheus. "And Ictargo reports to Alchara."


    "Okay, but there is a difference between shuffling paperwork and bestowing divine powers," noted Kiyora. "Especially on children."


    "Actually, there isn''t," said Morpheus. "The gods use many means to achieve their ends. Alchara bestows the power of the dreamer through marriages rather than gifts. Is it truly so different?"


    "Yes," said Kiyora.


    "How?" asked Morpheus.


    "Well, I mean... in another world, there is this god, Elranor," said Kiyora. "He gives his powers to people who prove themselves. If someone gets their powers from him, they have earned them. You have to prove yourself worthy of powers before he gives them. Giving powers to kids seems like a recipe for disaster."


    "Alchara has means of restraining them," said Morpheus. "They may have dreamer powers. But she can choose not to unlock them, should they prove unsuitable in one life or another."


    "Yeah, but what is the benefit of giving someone powers at birth? As opposed to giving them when they prove themselves?" asked Kiyora.


    "You ask many questions, don''t you?" asked Morpheus.


    "Yeah, yeah, I do," said Kiyora. "Do you answer them?"


    "The truth is that Alchara lost much of her power before the Dreamer Elves even existed," said Morpheus. "You know the human king, Anoa the Butcher? He was only the beginning of a period called the Great Calamity. Elven realms across the world were devastated. Alchara was forced to expend much of her power to save them.


    "When Alchara bestows power on certain bloodlines. She can increase that power by controlling whom they marry. Giving powers costs her much more. Elranor can do it because he is immensely powerful and has some power to burn."


    "Okay," said Kiyora. "Wait, so if Alchara lost most of her power before the Dreamer Elves existed, why did she create us?"


    "The answer is a bit complicated," said Morpheus. "Ordinarily, when a soul dies, one of three things happens. First, they are found worthy and pass to the forest of Alchara to dwell in her domain. Second, they are not yet worthy and are reincarnated. Third, they are cast out into hell if they have performed great evil.


    "Well, things got bad during the Great Calamity. So many elves were killed that there was no way they could all be reincarnated. Not enough of them were being born. So Alchara created the Dreamer Elves, a new race from the souls of all those killed."


    "Hadn''t her power diminished?" asked Kiyora.


    "Creating the Dreamer Elves is what did much of the diminishing," admitted Morpheus.


    "That makes sense," said Kiyora. "Well, it looks like I got a history lesson from this, at least. Why isn''t any of this taught in schools?"


    "Alchara prefers this world to operate on a need-to-know basis," said Morpheus. "What you read in class is only the surface of a much longer history." He turned and began to walk away. "Come on, if you''re quick, you might be able to get back to school in time."


    "Huzzah," said Kiyora. "I''ll try to contain my glee."


    "Glad you''re so enthusiastic about your education!" said Morpheus.


    Kiyora wondered if she could find those kids again.

 Chapter Three: Ghosts of the Past

    A stiff wind blew through Kiyora''s blue hair as she returned to the front of Reya''s house. She waited there for a few minutes. Eventually, Reya came out of the door with a book bag. Her short green hair had been hastily combed, and several ends were sticking up.


    "Oh, Kiyora," said Reya, "have you been waiting for me all this time? It''s nearly noon."


    "No," said Kiyora, "I just got here."


    "Right, right, okay," said Reya. "Let''s keep moving."


    They walked together in silence for a while. Reya looked at Kiyora with tired eyes as they walked, only to look away suddenly. Kiyora had realized that Reya was quite pretty in her way. She wondered if Reya thought she was pretty.


    "Kiyora," she said, "why are you walking so late?"


    "I uh," said Kiyora, "I''ll tell you later. You feeling okay?"


    "I''m fine," said Reya. "I just... for some reason, I couldn''t get up this morning. I had some really bad dreams. I felt like I was being chased across a barren wasteland, and no matter where I looked, I couldn''t find a place to hide."


    "Well, I''m sure they''ll be gone tonight." said Kiyora, trying to sound cheerful.


    "I hope so," said Reya.


    They made it just in time for lunch. The school building had finally been fully reconstructed. The incident with the vines was nearly forgotten. Now, there was a whole new gymnasium. The path leading up to the front gate had had the tiles replaced.


    "Well," said Reya, "at least we don''t have to deal with any crowds?"


    "I just hope we don''t have to stay after school," said Kiyora.


    The two of them entered the cafeteria way to the cafeteria. Within, they found lunch was just beginning. They sat down at the table across from the others. Laurus was sitting next to Gisora. He''d cut his long hair short lately, so he didn''t look as much like William as before. His hands were clasped in front of him as he talked about one conspiracy theory or another. Gisora was as pretty as ever and had slightly grown her hair. The two of them seemed to be speaking, keenly interested in some conversation.


    Last, Tenius wasn''t speaking at all, merely sitting and listening. He looked absurdly ordinary despite being the God Emperor Ictargo in mortal form. In a handsome sort of way, of course.


    The three of them looked up as Kiyora and Reya sat down.


    "Kiyora, where were you?" asked Gisora. "The teacher just said you had an excused absence. And Reya, since when have you been late for school?" Gisora was taller than Reya but had the same kind of dye.


    "Um, I guess I stayed up too much," said Reya.


    "What about you?" asked Laurus. "And what''s with the cat? Are those wings."


    Kiyora looked up and saw that Morpheus. The cat had leaped onto the table and curled itself up. Why did he have to appear now? "Well, you know how I applied to become a Dream Sage?"


    "You mean you got in?" asked Gisora. "That''s great, Kiyora! Congratulations!" She clapped her on the back.


    "So what was your first day like?" asked Tenius.


    "She hunted down a nightmare. She did pretty well for a rookie," said Morpheus.


    There was a stunned silence.


    "We''re... not really rookies," said Laurus.


    "Well, you aren''t Laurus," said Reya. "You''ve seen all kinds of crazy stuff. Why am I never around for them?" sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Wait, can that cat talk?" asked Tenius.


    "I''m not exactly a cat," said Morpheus. "It would be more accurate to call me a guardian spirit taking the form of a cat. I''m in charge of helping the various Dream Sages in their tasks. And also surveying potential Dream Sage candidates."


    "Why haven''t we seen you before then?" asked Laurus.


    "I''m not supposed to show myself to ordinary people," said Morpheus. "Not until I''m in the company of a Dream Sage anyway."


    "Mind if I ask you something then?" asked Kiyora.


    "No, not at all," said Morpheus.


    "Where were you?" asked Kiyora. "When Laughing Wraith was on his rampage?"


    Morpheus shifted nervously. ''Laughing Wraith was unique among the nightmares. Only the most experienced of Dream Sages could contend with his will. And we didn''t want to send rookies after him. So, we tried to bring in the elites. But when he took control of the Capital''s military, he cut us off completely.


    "We nearly lost some of our best and brightest."


    "But Kiyora was a rookie," said Gisora. "Actually, she wasn''t even that. She was a civilian. Why could she fight Laughing Wraith?"


    "Well..." began Morpheus.


    "Because I''ve been using my powers in my dreams for years, Reya," said Kiyora. "I was already pretty experienced."


    "That is true," admitted Morpheus. "But most dreamers would still have difficulty with Wraith. In your case, you have an exceptional amount of power."


    "Then why start me off with something that weak?" asked Kiyora.


    "Wait, so you''ve already done a mission?" asked Gisora. "What was it like?"


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    "Oh, a nightmare was possessing Reya," said Kiyora. "I had to drive it off."


    "Nightmare?" asked Reya.


    "When we say nightmare, we mean an unholy creation of negative energy," said Morpheus. "Not a bad dream."


    "You didn''t answer my question," said Kiyora.


    "Standard procedure," said Morpheus. "Also, these things tend to go in cycles. When you have a crisis and beat it back the world quiets down for a bit. Then, the darkness creeps back in. Well, unless the dark wins, but that takes a long time to happen.


    "We call those Darkened Worlds."


    "So, does anyone else here have the potential to be a Dream Sage?" asked Reya in interest.


    "I''m not sure I should say," said Morpheus. "I don''t want to interfere with your choices."


    "Well, anyway, did you hear the news?" asked Laurus.


    Warning bells went off in Kiyora''s mind. "No, and I don''t want to."


    "What?" said Laurus.


    "Laurus, you bring up one of your conspiracy theories. And every time you talk us into investigating," said Kiyora. "Then some sort of nightmarish horror appears beyond the veil of time and space. Then I get dragged into it, and everyone has a bad time.


    "I''m not doing it again."


    "Yeah, but every time we investigate something, we throw a spanner into the works," said Laurus. "Whatever that plan happens to be. Me getting us involved led to you saving the city from Laughing Wraith. It also led to you saving all the prisoners of Rioletta and freeing the Black Star."


    "Your investigations have indeed led to a great deal of fruit, Kiyora," said Morpheus.


    "Maybe you should listen to him."


    "I''m fine with it," said Gisora.


    "Easy for you to say, Gisora," said Kiyora. "You haven''t had nearly the time of it I have."


    "I''d uh..." Reya paused. "I''d like to take a break from investigations."


    "Well, I want to investigate," said Laurus. "That makes the vote two on two on."


    "No, it doesn''t," replied Kiyora. "That makes the vote two on one. The talking cat doesn''t count."


    "I think my opinion should be counted," said Morpheus.


    "You''re new, so no, your opinion doesn''t count," said Kiyora.


    "I think we should check it out," said Tenius. Had he made a decision?


    "Why Tenius?" asked Kiyora.


    "I don''t know," admitted Tenius. "I just get the feeling something important is happening. And it can''t hurt to listen. Besides, they''re just going to investigate on their own."


    "...Fine then," said Kiyora. "What is the news?"


    "People have been seeing ghosts," said Laurus.


    "Ghost stories?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Laurus. "Elves, dwarves, giants, satyrs. I''ve read news stories of a dozen places that have reported them. They walk the halls of graveyards and other places. They were listless with toothless mouths agape. And those who look into their eyes lose their souls."


    Reya huddled up next to Kiyora.


    "Stop trying to scare us, Laurus," said Gisora.


    "I''m just kidding around with that last part," said Laurus. "In all seriousness, every newspaper I''ve checked has had something on-"


    Suddenly, there was a screeching noise from the halls. People stood up, and their faces went pale as it reached their ears. Several people fell over spasming.


    "What the hell is that noise?" asked Laurus.


    Kiyora felt something. A familiar presence. "I''ve heard that sound before," she said. "In the Iron Kingdom."


    "Where?" asked Laurus.


    Kiyora stood up and ran. Her rod was in her hand as she ran toward the screeching. Rounding a corner, she saw a horde of spirits approaching. Their mouths were wide, and their eyes were flaming blue. Moans of agony and despair came from them, and standing before them made Kiyora feel cold. It was like the life was being drained out of her.


    "Kiyora, quick, use your rod!" said Morpheus. "Quickly, before it is too late!"


    Kiyora raised the rod. "''By the Power of Alchara, I will smite you!''"


    Once again, the transformation took place. Kiyora tried to hide her humiliation as she wore the ridiculous outfit again. Laurus was nearby. He raised an eyebrow.


    "Is that a-" he began.


    "Shut up," said Kiyora.


    Then, spinning the ride around, she felt the power of Alchara within her. Soon, the rod transformed into a sword that shone with all the rainbow colors. The specters came at her, but she swung it.


    A wave of multicolored energy flowed toward the ghosts. They screeched a final time before it consumed them. Yet more came behind them. Kiyora slashed through two more, and four came to replace them. One grabbed her from behind, but she bashed it away with the pommel of her weapon.


    Spinning the sword, she sent waves of rainbows around her to consume all of them. Finally, the hall was clear of them. Morpheus appeared. "Come quick, Kiyora. To the roof!"


    Kiyora followed him as he ran and scaled up several flights of stairs before exiting the roof. Here, there were many more ghosts. They rushed at her, but Kiyora wielded the rainbow waves like a whip to slash them down.


    More and more specters came at her, no matter how many she killed. Eventually, they slowed and then retreated into the sky. Soon, they began to form together, their spectral forms combining into a sphere of spirits. Then that spear grew toeless legs and fingerless arms.


    "Kiyora, use your finisher!" said Morpheus.


    "Finisher?" asked Kiyora.


    "Look deep within yourself," said Morpheus. "The power is yours."


    Doing it was as natural as breathing. Kiyora found herself getting into character. Raising her sword, a globe of multicolored energy formed above the tip. A wind shot through her hair, sending it flying around her.


    The specter descended toward her.


    "Rainbow Justice Slash!" she cried.


    Then she swung her sword. The globe lashed outward and hit the creature. There were a million unholy shrieks, and then the creatures were withdrawn. Then Kiyora hesitated. She turned around and saw the others.


    She felt mortified.


    "Rainbow what?" said Laurus.


    "What?" said Kiyora. "I thought I''d get into the spirit of things?"


    "That was awesome!" said Reya.


    "Yeah," said Gisora, "but what is with the outfit?"


    "Um... uh... Dream Sage business," said Kiyora, raising the sword and turning it back into a rod.


    "Shut up. ''Let the power of Alchara be returned.''" Her clothes returned to normal. "Seriously, Morpheus, is there any way I can change these to a different outfit?"


    "I don''t really see the problem," said Morpheus. "Showing off your legs is an excellent way to attract a potential husband."


    "I don''t want a husband," said Kiyora. "Anywhere where did these ghosts come from?"


    "I don''t know." admitted Morpheus "I have a wide area of operation. But usually, when specters are summoned, they are called in at places where a lot of dead bodies are. Like a graveyard or a mortuary."


    "Then why don''t we check out all the graveyards and look for anything unusual?" asked Gisora.


    "That sounds like a good idea to me," said Morpheus.


    "Um, that''s kind of pointless," said Kiyora.


    "What do you mean?" asked Morpheus.


    "Well, some of those specters were giants and satyrs," said Kiyora. "None of them have ever been allowed in Ascalon from the beginning of the Empire, let alone buried here."


    "Good point. Raising a specter requires a body," said Morpheus. "Or a soul. This means that whoever did this has access to either belonging to giants or satyrs. A well-practiced necromancer, I''ll bet. I''ll have to consult someone on the subject."


    "Souls," said Kiyora. Then things clicked into place. "Oh, son of a bitch. It''s Arraxia."

 Chapter Four: Baltoths Hospitality

    That night, as Kiyora dreamed, she appeared within the domain of Queen Dawn. She found the elf queen sitting at a desk of living wood, scratching out notes on parchment. She looked up as Kiyora approached. And Kiyora saw the Goddess Alchara manifest within her.


    "Dreaming Goddess," said Dawn, "what do I owe the pleasure."


    "I think you already know, Alchara," said Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Dawn. "Yes, I do." She rang a bell, and the door revealed a white-clad elf girl. She had violet hair tied up into a ponytail, and her eyes were violet. Her skin was darker than most high elves, and she looked too chipper for Kiyora''s liking. "Twilight would you bring water for myself and my guest."


    "Of course, Queen Dawn, I''ll get it right away. Anything you want." The door shut. Dawn motioned to the seat. "Please, sit down."


    "Thank you," said Kiyora, complying.


    There was a long, awkward silence. During this time, Twilight returned and brought them both water. Kiyora sipped hers and found it tasted light and strange. However, it was alright by any means. Dawn did the same, and they were silent for a while more.


    "Well, we have a problem," said Dawn at last.


    "Aren''t you going to chide me for letting Arraxia get the Void Stone?" asked Kiyora.


    "No," said Dawn. "This is better than the alternative. If Melchious'' plans had succeeded, everyone in the Iron Kingdom would die. He would be wielding the Axe of Fortenex and the Void Stone and be poised to cause untold carnage in other lands.


    "All things considered, this is certainly the lesser evil."


    "Oh," said Kiyora. "Okay."


    "Contrary to what you''ve told yourself, I am not unreasonable," said Dawn. "Now there comes the question of what we can do about it."


    "We aren''t starting a war. Not unless we have to," said Kiyora.


    "I am well aware," said Dawn. "And that was not my first thought either. The Void Stone would give Arraxia a great advantage against any army. No, we must make a quest."


    "A quest?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Dawn. "Three companions who will go forth by stealth and steal the Void Stone from Arraxia and bring it back here."


    "Sounds very poetic," said Kiyora. "Why three?"


    Dawn remained silent for a long moment. "Only three people volunteered whom I considered up to the task. Sir Anias Evensen, whom you defeated with Baltoth''s Retribution. My student, Twilight, and her companion."


    "Whose the third companion?" asked Kiyora.


    "...A wolf of some significant lineage," admitted Alchara, sounding a bit embarrassed.


    "So why is Twilight so qualified?" asked Kiyora.


    "She is my finest student," said Dawn. "With great potential in magic. However, she needs more experience in the outside world. More importantly, she''s also sterile, so her less would not be as serious as another female."


    "Right, of course," said Kiyora. "You sure you don''t want to spend more? Don''t get me wrong, I''m sure the satyrs will appreciate the snack, but there are many of them."


    "They will be given the Goldenwood Harp," said Alchara.


    The Goldenwood Harp? Kiyora hadn''t forgotten that used to be William''s. "Hey, can I have that back when this is over?"


    "No," said Alchara.


    "Oh, come on," said Kiyora. "I''m giving you the Void Stone."


    "Which no moral creature could ever use," said Alchara. "It is a liability. My harp is a great asset."


    "Point," mused Kiyora. "But what good is the harp going to do?"


    "The harp greatly enhances the power of any spell channeled through it," said Alchara. "Twilus can send weaker-willed creatures to sleep. If she can get to Baltoth''s Retribution, she should be able to send those guarding it into a deep slumber."


    "Okay, that sounds cool. But no way I''ll work on Arraxia," said Kiyora.


    "Well then, it is fortunate that your will and hers are bound in Baltoth''s Retribution," said Alchara. "When Twilight casts her spell, you can interfere with her resisting power."


    "Oh, good idea," said Kiyora. "So, wasn''t Evensen a general last time we met?"


    "He was," said Alchara, voice cold. "Then he was utterly defeated in a humiliating rout. Without inflicting a single casualty on the enemy."


    "Good point," admitted Kiyora. She''d probably fire him, too.


    "He''s trying to redeem himself," said Alchara. "Since he is one of my best swordsmen, I''m giving him a chance. Would you care to meet them?"


    "Well, I guess I could," mused Kiyora. Then she remembered the invitation from the Calishans. Moreover, she realized how little she wanted to spend time with the high elves. "But uh, frankly, I''ve got a party to go to in Calisha, so..."


    "Yes, why would you be concerned with a quest whose outcome could affect all of Seathorius?" said Alchara.


    "Look, I''ve been working to overcome Arraxia for the past year and a half, okay," said Kiyora. "I need a break. Besides, you picked them. It''s not like I''m your superior. I''m sure they can handle it."


    "By all means," said Dawn. "Leave the matter in my hands. I''m sure there will be fewer mistakes this way anyway."


    "Glad you agree," said Kiyora. She finished her drink. "Thanks for the water." Then she willed herself away.


    She found Bjorn in the midst of sacrificing a goat on her altar. Bjorn halted the downward stab of the knife. "Dreaming Goddess, I realize this is likely to be very important. But perhaps you could wait until after your ceremony is done?"


    "Right," said Kiyora. "I''ll just wait here."


    The goat was sacrificed, and the meat burned in a fire. Afterward, Bjorn cleaned off his hands and approached her. "Now, what can I do to help you, Dreaming Goddess?"


    "That stone I gave you," said Kiyora. "Anything suspicious about it?"


    "Nothing of the sort," said Bjorn. "It is designed to give the one who holds it a clear fix on the Captial City of Calisha, Ruscow. That is all."


    "Great," said Kiyora. "I need it."


    "Of course," said Bjorn, removing the stone from a pocket. "Here it is."


    Kiyora took it. "Thanks." Then, she focused on the stone. It drew her out, and suddenly, she was floating high above Ruscow.


    It was magnificent. Hundreds of crystal domes reached into the sky. There were seven hills around the city, and each one had a great spire upon it. Thousands upon thousands of people busied themselves. She could hear music from the streets, and in the city''s squares, there were many colorful tents.


    Then she saw the palace. And what a palace it was. The top of its white-domed towers had prisms of crystal upon them. They caught the morning light and reflected them against other prisms. In this way, the entire top of the castle seemed to be ablaze with light.


    She landed on a balcony and found someone waiting for her. He was like a man, but he had the head of an orange cat. He was dressed in flowing blue and purple robes and wore a turban upon his head. There was a jewel upon his brow, and he nodded to her.


    "Queen Dreamer, we have awaited your arrival."


    "Glad to hear it," said Kiyora. "But I don''t know where you got the name "Queen Dreamer." The title is "Dreaming Goddess." Or just Kiyora, or maybe Queen Yagos."


    "I apologize. I was using the old name," said the catman. "I am Suloth, Son of Emperor Baltoth, and it is my great pleasure to welcome you to the Festival of the Hearth. Or what will soon be the Festival."


    "Thanks, I guess," said Kiyora. "But why did you invite me? And don''t Calishans usually speak through servants?"


    "It was an order from my father," said Suloth. "As for servants, I regard us as equals. My Empire is larger. However, you are a goddess."


    "Well, thanks, I guess," said Kiyora.


    "I am glad you appreciate it," said Suloth. "Have you yet eaten?"


    "No," admitted Kiyora. "I am kind of hungry, though."


    "Then I shall have a meal for you," said Suloth. He opened the door behind him and led her into a room. And even though Kiyora had not seen any command, spoken servants entered with many fine foods. Suloth sat down on a round table upon a cushion. He motioned for Kiyora to sit down, and she did, trying to imitate his cross-legged position. "And we may speak of many things. No wine, I''m afraid.


    "No true Calishan drinks it."


    "You don''t?" asked Kiyora. "Why not?"


    "Alcohol bewitches the mind," said Suloth. "Prolonged us turns even the most upstanding men into drains on society. It is also bad for the health of the populace. Father regards anything which addicts a man as a plague."


    "What about malas?" asked Kiyora.


    "Malas is different," said Suloth. "Enhancing magical power is too great a boon to ignore completely. Thus, we have a strict system of distribution among the military. Addiction is punishable by death.


    "Please, eat."


    Kiyora did eat. She guessed talk of execution ought to put her off her food. But she''d become desensitized to horrors by now. And anyway, the food was delicious. There were steamed lamb and spices here that she''d never tasted in Seathorius or elsewhere. However, she didn''t eat much while in her dreams.


    "I have a question," said Kiyora. "I looked out at the landscape, and I didn''t see any snow. But it''s winter where I''m from."


    "We have agreements with Herus," said Suloth. "During the Festival of the Hearth, all the snow in our land is melted away."


    "That sounds handy," said Kiyora. "This is a really beautiful city you have."


    "My father built it in ancient days," said Suloth. "It was on the ruins of Valranor''s old stronghold. And we have improved it for thousands of years.


    "When we have finished, if you wish, I shall arrange for someone to show you the city."


    "I would like that," said Kiyora. "But, I could probably look through things myself."


    "Your pardon, Dreaming Goddess, but that would be unacceptable. In the heart of Calisha, it is against courtesy for women to walk unaccompanied," said Suloth.


    "I''m a Goddess," said Kiyora. "I can take care of myself."


    "I am well aware," said Suloth. "However, I do not want to cause a stir. Even the children of Baltoth follow his laws. For all are subject to him, save Baltoth himself."


    "Wait, so Baltoth doesn''t follow his own rules?" asked Kiyora.


    "My Father maintains that as the creator of the laws of Calisha, he cannot be subject to them," said Suloth. "Since he is a god, no one questions him."


    "Right, um, shouldn''t I meet with him first?" asked Kiyora.


    "Unfortunately, my father has not set foot in Ruscow for over seventeen years," said Suloth. "He has taken on a mortal form, and I am in charge of the day-to-day affairs in Calisha."


    "Why''d he do that?" asked Kiyora.


    "Several reasons," said Suloth. "Chiefest among them is defying fate."


    "What fate?" asked Kiyora.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Suloth smiled. "Well, that is a long story."


    "I''d say we''ve got time," said Kiyora.


    "Very well," said Suloth. "How shall I put this? Many ages ago, Baltoth conquered Calisha and subjugated the Dust Elves. In those days, Anoa the Bright was still carving out the Kingdom of Harlenor. Many great wars were raging throughout them.


    "Well, after his coronation, Father went to the Oracle of Laevian far away in Themious. And he learned that his might would be unassailable for many generations. However, ultimately, he would be slain by the line of Anoa the Bright."


    "So he killed Anoa the Bright?" guessed Kiyora.


    "What? No, Anoa the Bright never died," said Suloth. "Or at least we don''t know how he died. The Harlenorians believe he ascended into Heaven. I don''t believe it. The man was a monster. Even Elranor had trouble keeping him in line."


    "I''ve got friends who regard him as the greatest king who ever lived," said Kiyora, thinking of William.


    "Well, of course, they do," said Suloth. "He''s their founder. No one wants to believe that their founder built their nation over the corpses of the innocent. But they did. The best that could be said for Anoa was that he was a product of his time.


    "Purges and genocides were commonplace back then. He got all the different weaker factions to put aside their differences. Thus, they all focus on killing elves instead of each other.


    "Nothing like that ever happened in Calisha. When Baltoth took over, there were no attempts to eradicate the Dust Elves. Those that survived were simply told to leave."


    Kiyora wasn''t sure she believed him. She would probably want to cover up her misdeeds if she were a vicious tyrant. "Did you ever meet Anoa the Bright?"


    "Once," admitted Suloth. "I was very young, and he was very old. Eleanor had just finished scolding him. You see, the elves he decimated had begun to rebuild their lives, and he couldn''t stand that any of them could be happy. He wanted to destroy the last of them. But Elranor stopped him. Afterward, he ''ascended into Heaven.'' I guess that Elranor had his son kill him and covered it up. That is what I would have done. Anoa II was a far better king than his father."


    "Okay, but whom did Baltoth kill to get the eternal hatred of Harlenor?" asked Kiyora.


    "Anoa the IX. Nice enough, fellow," said Suloth. "A decent war leader. But he wasn''t a very good king, and his generals didn''t like it. He went to try to drive Melchious out of Seathorius at the request of the Nakmar. The campaign was inconclusive, with neither side being able to beat the other. Eventually, Anoa had to withdraw to put down a rebellion.


    "Father saw his chance and took a force of his immortals from Artarq. Using Baltoth''s Retribution, he caught up to Anoa, ambushed, and killed him. Thus died the line of Anoa the Bright. Harlenor fragmented into many warring states. They ended up being put back together into three Kingdoms. And a variety of lesser realms, such as Estal and Gel Carn. However, those are usually subject to one of the Three Kingdoms."


    "So why did Baltoth take mortal form?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, that is an interesting story in its own right," mused Suloth. "We received news that Anoa IX may have had some descendants. If that were the case, then they might, in time, reclaim the Throne of Harlenor United, as they call it, and slay him.


    "So he has taken a mortal form. He''ll resume his true nature if he is killed while in that form. The only cost will be a small power loss, the prophecy will be fulfilled, and we''ll be unharmed."


    "Why didn''t he just do that before?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, for one thing, Calisha wasn''t always as stable as it is now," said Suloth. "If Father walked away from his throne without someone he could trust. There might not be one when he returned. For another, he was hoping that Harlenor would fall entirely to pieces. Then, he''d be able to conquer it piecemeal.


    "Unfortunately, the only thing the Harlenorians could agree on was a hatred for us. So we''ve just had one war after another. It''s quite tragic."


    They continued their breakfast, and Kiyora asked many other questions. She learned that in Calisha, it had initially been the custom to take more than one wife if you could afford it. However, these days, even kings are not allowed to do so. It was forbidden for anyone to practice polygamy.


    "How is it right for Baltoth to have thousands of affairs but for men to be beheaded for unfaithfulness?" asked Kiyora.


    "My Father''s affairs serve a very practical and instrumental purpose," said Suloth. "They create demigods who may, in turn, become great assets to Calisha. They also allow many other benefits that I should not go into. Father has forbidden spreading the full details of his power. Suffice to say it would be impossible to have the same efficiency level. Not without those liaisons."


    Kiyora let it pass and asked about other things. Instead, she turned the subject to the law. Here, she learned that Baltoth was very ruthless in dealing with criminals.


    "So you crucify people for thieving?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Suloth. "Although sometimes people are allowed to go on quests to redeem themselves. Or join the military under a geas. For more serious crimes, such as patricide or matricide, we have harsher punishments. "


    "Isn''t that a bit harsh?" asked Kiyora. "How does crucifixion fit the crime of stealing an apple?"


    "It does not," said Suloth. "However, if a man knows that stealing an apple will get him a slow and painful death, he is far less likely to do so. Thus, there is very little crime in Calisha. Personal justice is all well and good. However, Baltoth''s primary concern is that society functions without corruption.


    "The worst punishments are reserved for treason and cowardice in the face of the enemy."


    "Okay," said Kiyora, "so you punish people harshly as an example to the rest."


    "Indeed," said Suloth. "Men are not crucified for their crime, but that others will not commit that same crime. How is it that you deal with crime?"


    "I don''t," said Kiyora. "Mostly, I let the Nakmar run their affairs. Everyone knows everyone in their communities, so they usually sort things out personally. I help them when they need it. Occasionally, I also make alliances and give them orders for their good. But I''m pretty loose in keeping control of them."


    "Ah," said Suloth, "that policy has its virtues. We pursue a similar approach when we first gain control of new territory. However, as generations go by, we introduce more of our laws and customs.


    "There is a flaw in that approach, you see. If they are bound to us only by tribute, they will not consider themselves a Calisha member. Instead, they think of themselves as whatever race or ethnic group they belong to. Thus, if Calisha ever suffered a great setback, they would be too swift to leave us.


    "Yet if they think of themselves as Calishan first, they will stand with us. Even when there is a great hardship."


    "What if they resent the fact that you brutalize them for the smallest crimes?" asked Kiyora.


    "Crime is very low in Calisha," said Suloth. "Baltoth has ways of rooting out all those who are corrupt or neglectful of their duties. Some suffer and die; it is true. However, there is almost no corruption. Resources are fairly evenly distributed.


    "All citizens of Calisha pay a certain tax according to their income to feed and clothe the poor. Including myself, I might add."


    "Right," said Kiyora, "so how many people have you crucified this week?"


    "None," said Suloth. "We don''t do executions during festivals. We find it darkens the mood."


    "Ever consider giving out a pardon or two?" asked Kiyora.


    "You sound like my sister, Safara," said Suloth with a smile. "She''s eccentric. She likes to talk to people without a servant. Calishans do not give pardons. When a crime is committed, the one responsible must pay for it. There are no exceptions. If there were, others would follow in their footsteps.


    "You ask many questions about our legal system."


    "Well, I''ve been told by Harlenorians that a Dark Lord leads you, people. The sort who sits on a throne of skulls," said Kiyora. "I figured I''d hear your side of things."


    "Ah yes," said Suloth. "No, Baltoth never had a throne of skulls. That is more his brother''s preference."


    "Baltoth has a brother?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Suloth. "He is Fortenex, the Demonic Archon of Wrath, and he is the younger. There has been bad blood between them since my grandfather died."


    "Your grandfather?" asked Kiyora. "Who was he?"


    "He was the King of Hell, Diabolus," said Suloth. "The Supreme Lord of all demons. He is less impressive than he sounds. He is obsessed with suffering and torment."


    "Isn''t Baltoth?" asked Kiyora.


    "In a different way," said Suloth. "Baltoth uses suffering and torment to achieve a robust and stable society. It is for the benefit of those who dwell in it and Baltoth, though not all know it. Diabolus tormented people for his own sake. Subordinates were killed not just for failure but also for partial success.


    "He was grossly incompetent. Far more concerned with hurting people than any practical plan for universal domination."


    "So what happened to him?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Gods had a stalemate with him for ages," said Suloth. "Then Elranor allied with Zigildrazia, my aunt. They cooperated to create an object of great power. The Heaven''s Eye. It was a nexus of holy energy, and Elranor used it to break Diabolus'' spirit.


    "After Grandfather was thrown from power, Baltoth and Fortenex quarreled over strategy. Baltoth saw the virtues of the mortal races as the best hope for defeating Elranor. He would wield them to build an unstoppable empire. Fortenex preferred to sew discord and tear down what others built.


    "And all the while, Elranor was rampaging through hell. He destroyed every demon he came across."


    "So what happened to the Heaven''s Eye?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, there is a rule of the universe that there is an equal and opposite reaction for every action. The trick is channeling it," said Suloth. "Elranor''s rampage throughout hell created a reaction. One that Zigildrazia used to create an equal and opposite gem. The Hellfire Jewel.


    "Within it, she sealed the different fragments of Diabolus'' spirit. Then she used it as a weapon to contest Elranor.


    "The two gems fought. For a while, they were equal in power. Then Karus, the Goddess of Fate, betrayed our side. She arranged for the Hellfire Jewel to be shattered into seven pieces. It was spread across the cosmos. But in so doing, the Heaven''s Eyes powers were also vastly diminished."


    "Wait, who was Karus?" asked Kiyora.


    "A very unpleasant woman," said Suloth. "She was the Goddess of Destiny, Fate, and Choice. And she was more or less a subordinate of the hells, even if she would never admit it. You see, she hated heroism in all forms.


    "Demons today have come to appreciate the heroic narrative. It gives us something to strive against or, in our case, provides a model for gaining greater power. But Karus'' detested it. According to tradition, heroes are granted certain luck. One that allows them to complete their journey so long as they remain heroes. But Karus'' would do things like give the luck of heroes to the murderous usurper. Then she''d punish him for his good deeds.


    "She thought she was being original by making good people miserable failures. Meanwhile, those who were selfish and brutal were hailed as messiahs, usually for partially correcting problems they created.


    The result was dozens of Darkened Worlds and the inclusions of the apocalypse. All those ancient horrors that destroy the world are performing an essential service. They protect the people here from living in a Darkened World."


    "They''re that bad?" asked Kiyora.


    "Worse," said Suloth. "Karus'' dismissed it as natural selection or something along those lines. The other gods disagreed, and she was forced to ally with us to pursue her vision of the cosmos. I''ve never figured out what it was other than hurting people to appease her ego."


    "She doesn''t seem like the sort of person anyone would like," mused Kiyora.


    "You are quite correct," said Suloth. "Which is why Baltoth killed her brutally. From there, Zigildrazia created Rioletta from her corpse. The spider goddess now controls the domain of Fate, while Fate is held by one of my sisters, Farasa."


    "What''s the difference?" asked Kiyora.


    "Fate is what will happen," said Suloth. "Destiny is what you make happen. Last of all, the choice is your decision to make it happen. The three aspects were divided up into a single power after the fact. It was decided that no one could be trusted with the domain, so a Goddess trio was made as a compromise."


    "Who rules choice?" asked Kiyora.


    "No one," said Suloth. "Karus had long-term plans that made a complete mess of the universe''s destiny. The Throne of Choice had the potential to derail those plans. So, she put a great deal of effort into making it inaccessible.


    "Of course, she''s dead, and we know exactly what those plans are. So as soon as her avatar shows itself, we''ll assassinate her, which will be its end."


    "Avatar?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Suloth. "Karus'' poured most of her power into a future avatar. One that had not yet been born when Baltoth invaded her realm. We believe this avatar is the lynchpin of her plan.


    "But it is of no present consequence. What is of consequence is that everyone has had to work overtime. We''ve entire ages compensating for her hubris. So, no one is going to oppose removing her. I''m planning to make a national holiday after I kill her."


    Kiyora paused. "So, the Heaven''s Eye and the Hellfire Jewel. I know the Heaven''s Eye is in Gel Carn. But has anyone ever found the Hellfire Jewel pieces?"


    "Several people, I think, but they aren''t usually worth the effort. Diabolus tends to break his tools once he''s done with them. So, no one is looking," admitted Suloth. "The divine game has changed a great deal since then. There is a great deal more scheming and negotiation than open warfare. In any case, I think it would be futile to gather them all."


    "Why?" asked Kiyora.


    "Because the gems are spiritual twins," said Suloth. "Zigildrazia, the greatest forger in the hells, fashioned both of them. If you were to assemble the Hellfire Jewel, the Heaven''s Eye would attain its full power. And then you''d have the stalemate all over again. One which benefitted no one and assured mutual destruction if they were both used."


    "Hang on, I thought Zigildrazia was the Queen of the Succubi," said Kiyora.


    "She is," said Suloth. "She is also a blacksmith of unparalleled talent. Her hands are masterfully skilled. Only Vrengar and Barden are even close to her."


    "The God of the Dragon Empire, right?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Suloth. "He lives to the south of Harlenor in the Dragon Empire. We have some trade by sea with him but little else. He introduced the mortal races to iron and steelworking." He paused. "Where was I?"


    "Zigildrazia fashioning the two gems," said Kiyora.


    "Ah right." said Suloth. "You know, I''ve never found out how Zigildrazia managed to create the Heaven''s Eye. In theory, such an artifact should have burned her to the touch. To make it would be suicide.


    "But it seems she managed it somehow."


    They finished their meal. As they did, a door opened, and into the room slithered the most beautiful woman Kiyora had ever seen. She seemed to radiate benevolence itself. Her hair was long and red and tied into a long braid that fell around her shoulders. Her eyes were painted black, and her lips the same. Her face was shapely and fair, and her shoulders slender. She was clad only in a gold and red brassiere, which showed off the sides of her enormous breasts. Her waist was thin and led into wide hips. Yet there were no legs, for her lower body resembled a red-scaled snake.


    Kiyora felt her heart beating in her chest. Her mouth was dry. Why was she being affected like this?


    Looking past him, she saw a very handsome guy; he looked about thirty. He wore a black shirt and pants, which could not hide his chiseled physique. His sleeves were short and bared his muscular forearms. His hair was long and black, and he had a square jaw. There was stubble on his face, and he had gray eyes. He looked at Suloth with reservation.


    Alchara above. These two could be dressed in rags and pose as supermodels. And this was coming from an elf.


    "We had heard that there were newcomers, brother," said Safara. "We hoped to come to meet them." She slithered forward and wrapped herself around Suloth. All that bending seemed impossible for her human half. The man who accompanied her nodded to Suloth.


    "King Suloth," said the man.


    "Ah, Prince Aris, Safara," said Suloth. "I was wondering where you were." He motioned to Kiyora. "Safara, this is Queen Dreamora?"


    "Yes," said Kiyora, annoyed. "Though she does not go by that name anymore."


    "My apologies," said Suloth, "that was the name we have been taught to call you by."


    "You look far younger than I had heard you were," noted Safara, slithering away from Suloth. Next, she wrapped herself around Kiyora, getting far too close for comfort. "Why do you take such a youthful guise?"


    Kiyora forced herself to focus on Safara''s face rather than the other assets very near her chin. "I''m a little less than forty. And could you please get off me?"


    "I apologize," said Safara, drawing back.


    "So I know who you are," said Kiyora before looking to Aris. "Where are you from?"


    "I am Prince Aris of Estal," said Aris. "I''ve come here to finalize the peace between my land and Calisha."


    "The agreement was finalized some days ago," said Safara, slithering around Aris. "We have been largely enjoying the festival." She wrapped an arm around Aris and drew far more near than Kiyora was comfortable with.


    "Speaking of which," said Suloth. "Safara, I have several duties I have to attend to. Could you show Queen Dreamer- my apologies. The Dreaming Goddess, around the city?"


    "Of course," said Safara. "It would be my pleasure." Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Where does that name come from anyway?" asked Kiyora.


    "It was what you were called before Anoa the Bright, of course," said Suloth.


    "I wasn''t even born at the time," noted Kiyora.


    "Well, yes, obviously not," said Safara. "Not as you are now. You must die to be reincarnated."


    "Reincarnation, right," said Kiyora. "Who was I then?"


    "Frankly, we''re not sure I should be the one to say," admitted Suloth. "My information is largely third-hand. I might tell you something that is outright wrong. I suggest you speak with Alchara on the subject. For now, I must go."


    He stood and departed.


    Kiyora looked at Safara. "This place is nice. I mean, I thought the palace of Artarq was beautiful, but Ruscow is on a whole other level."


    "Suloth has always loved beauty. He has built this and many other cities of Calisha in this fashion," said Safara. "But this is only the upper levels of the palace. Let me show you the city and the celebration within."


    Kiyora had a gut feeling that she could trust Safara. That Safara was the nicest person she had ever met. She should have listened to Safara, which made her suspicious.


    She hoped Safara wasn''t another Alchara in the making.

 Chapter Five: The City of Ruscow

    The streets were filled with all kinds of entertainment. Dancers, acrobats, snake charmers, magicians were all to be seen. People drank freely, and colorful banners were everywhere. As they walked through out the festival, Safara introduced people by name. It soon became apparent that Safara knew everyone.


    And everyone knew her. Hardened mercenaries gave her their full attention. They spoke with courtesy when she was around. Something about her seemed to infect people. Kiyora wondered if Aris was likewise infected.


    The Prince of Estal spoke little as they walked. Yet he regarded the people around him with a hidden distaste. Kiyora wanted to call him on it. But she decided not to. It wasn''t like she''d change his opinion with a speech.


    "Kiyora, have you met Eredian yet?" asked Safara.


    "No," said Kiyora. "Who is he?"


    "Oh, he''s a wonderful man," said Safara. "A baker by trade, you really should try some of his loaves."


    "I guess," said Kiyora.


    "Aris, come with us, please," said Safara.


    Aris followed without a word. They came to a stall where all kinds of bread and other baked goods were on display. A round-faced Calishan looked up and beamed as they approached. Safara waved as she slithered up to him.


    "Lady Safara, it''s been some time since you were last in Ruscow," said the man. "I''m glad to see you here for the festival."


    "I''m glad to be here, Eredian," said Safara. "Tell me, how is your wife? Did she like the gift I sent?"


    "Of course," said Eredian. "They were a Queenly gift. How are affairs in your own home?"


    Safara''s expression darkened. "Baelgost''s manor is pleasant enough. He is almost never there, however. I fear I get lonely sometimes."


    "Ah," said Eredian, "who are these with you?"


    "I''m Kiyora Yagos," said Kiyora. "I''m visiting the city from my homeland."


    "Are the high elves seeking friendship with Calisha?" asked Eredian.


    "I don''t really know," said Kiyora. "I just wanted to see the festival."


    Eredian eyed her for a moment, then looked back to Safara. "Well, I hope there will be peace. My son took a spear to the gut in the attack on Artarq. It nearly cost him his life, but one of the Harlenorians healed him. What was his name? Ah, William Gabriel, isn''t it? It usually is a Gabriel for these sorts of things."


    "What do you mean by that?" asked Kiyora.


    "House Gabriel is known well for its Calishan sympathies," said Aris, speaking for the first time in a while.


    "Yes, I''m told Father holds Duke Vanion in a lot of respect," said Safara, missing the resentment in Aris'' tone.


    Kiyora wasn''t going to let it drop like that. "Yeah, but what did you mean by ''It usually is a Gabriel?'' Duke Vanion hasn''t been the ruler of Artarq all that long."


    "Well, it was in the foundations of their house, so to speak," said Eredian.


    "Sixty years ago, Erik the Voyager came to the shores of Eastern Calisha," said Safara. "In those days, the Empire was involved in a civil war. One of Baltoth''s children, Rammas, had raised the banner of rebellion. There was a great deal of bloodshed in putting it down.


    "So the far eastern provinces weren''t as secure. The realm of Dinis was pressing at the borders, and the Kalthakians were launching raids. Erik did a great many great deeds, including saving a nest of gold dragon eggs from being stolen." She looked up, and her eyes narrowed. "One of them grew up to be Paleth."


    "Whose Paleth?" asked Kiyora.


    "My husband''s protege," said Safara. "A golden dragon of huge size and power. He spends more time with him than with me. See that ridge up there."


    Kiyora looked up at the way she was motioning. On one of the hills surrounding the city, there was a shrine of standing stones. There was a strange glinting light that seemed to duck and weave. There was another humanoid figure darting back and forth. It was as though they were fighting.


    "Yes," said Kiyora.


    "That shimmering light is the sun glinting off of Paleth''s scales. He and Baelgost are training together. They don''t stop, even for the Festival of the Hearth," said Safara. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Kiyora noticed that she seemed closer to angry than she''d ever seen. "Something has been bugging me, Safara. I have never heard of this festival, or Herus, being worshipped in Harlenor."


    "Well, that is because the God Triumvirate keeps out religions they don''t like. Only they, their allies, and their vassals are allowed to erect statues within. Herus could be of great service in places like Haldren. There, the winter is even colder, but our missionaries are turned away at the borders.


    "Although Antion has proven more open-minded toward other gods. At least since King Andoa II took the throne."


    "What about Viokinar? It''s pretty cold there," said Kiyora.


    "The minotaurs worship only Kreshlak and his wives and suffer no other gods," said Safara. "And the worshippers of Fortenex are likewise. The Iron Kingdom has always sought to root out our worshippers as well. However, since the fall, we have sent them anew.


    "The sea birds tell me that those who worshipped Baltoth were spared the massacre."


    "Thank Alchara," said Kiyora. "I was afraid that only the worshippers of Elranor would survive. If other gods could protect the people, then maybe more survived."


    "We''ll soon know for certain," said Aris. "Calisha is using the truce to launch ships. They mean to make a great expedition to establish colonies in the lands which are now empty."


    "Don''t judge my brother too harshly, Aris," said Safara. "Harlenor has done the same. Duke Vanion has already launched a similar expedition, long prepared in advance. I do not know how he got news of the fall before it happened, but sometimes rumors are true."


    "What rumors?" asked Kiyora.


    "Some say that Duke Vanion has partnered with Melchious," said Aris. "That wherever Melchious sews destruction, Vanion establishes his hold on that land."


    "Duke Vanion would never work with Melchious!" shouted Kiyora despite herself.


    "He has admitted to doing so in the past," said Aris. "And he seems very quick to make alliances with other demons. With no disrespect, Safara."


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    "No, I understand," said Safara. "Emperor Baltoth and his children are not like others of his kind. It is perfectly reasonable that you hold them in distrust, Aris."


    "Duke Vanion made a few mistakes," said Kiyora. "But if he were really in an alliance with Melchious, he never would have admitted to what he did in the first place. And anyway, he saved Antion from Duke Borinius."


    "Did he?" asked Aris. "Duke Borinius claimed that he was under a spell from Melchious during his trial? Why should we trust Vanion and not Borinius?"


    "Well, for one thing, Vanion was admitting to guilt," said Kiyora. "Borinius was just trying to foist the blame off on someone else."


    "Every time Melchious strikes, Vanion becomes more powerful. You cannot deny that," said Aris.


    "You''re overthinking it, Aris," said Safara. "Vanion is using the crisis as an opportunity to increase his power. I used to do it all the time. Anyone could do it in his place. He doesn''t have to have made a pact with the demon to do it."


    "Or he''s trying to make things the best for all involved," said Kiyora. "Duke Vanion is a good man."


    "There are no good men regarding state affairs," said Safara sadly. "Friendship is a passing thing; love does not exist, save in me. However, this subject is dull. Let us scale up there. The view is very nice."


    "I don''t think I''ll see anything I haven''t already," admitted Kiyora. "But, I''m game."


    They made their way through the streets of the city and came out from between the high gates of Ruscow. They were gigantic. When Kiyora was standing beneath it, she tried to look up to the top. Her neck was barely able to bend back far enough to see the top.


    Once out of the gates, Kiyora saw the surrounding countryside of Ruscow. Several villages could be seen in the distance, surrounded by stone walls.


    Safara led them along a path up the side of the hill Safara had seen before. Coming to the summit, Kiyora looked east and saw vast plains of snow. It began at the edge of the mountain and stretched out before her. They gleamed in the sunlight. Yet whenever the snow neared a town or village, it stopped abruptly. It was as though a great fire had been lit at the center of each village.


    "Whoa," said Kiyora.


    "That was my reaction when I first saw it as well," said Safara. "It never snowed in what is now called Dinis. This marks the beginning of the plains of Rusun, the lands of the Medi. They stretch for thousands of miles and reach all the way to the land of Kalthak."


    "But you grew up here, didn''t you?" asked Kiyora.


    "No," said Safara. "I was raised in the jungles of the Far East, among my kind. When Father sent for me, I was drawn here."


    "Why did he send for you?" asked Kiyora.


    "So that I might marry my husband, Baelgost," said Safara. "He is the greatest warrior of Calisha and also my brother."


    Kiyora blinked. "You married your brother?


    "I was married to him, yes," said Safara before pointing up to the shrine. It was still above them, and Kiyora realized that the gleaming had halted. "He''s up there at the peak of the ledge."


    "With Paleth," said Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Safara. "Do you wish to meet them?"


    "I guess," said Kiyora.


    They journeyed the rest of the way up the hill and came before the shrine. The shrine was far more extensive than it had looked from the city. Everything in Calisha was larger than life, it seemed. Sitting against one of the stones was a creature that looked very similar to Suloth. Yet his hair was all orange and white, and his eyes red. He was taller and had thicker arms and legs. He wore white scaled armor.


    Near him was a massive creature with the body of a huge golden serpent. It had six clawed, scaly legs. Its scales gleamed brightly in the sun so that looking at him was hard. It was coiled around one of the stone pillars, and smoke was coming from its nostrils. Two dull eyes were looking at the catman.


    They seemed to be speaking to one another in low tones.


    "Isn''t it a bit um..." said Kiyora, "weird marrying your brother?" She''d heard of some screwed-up matches. But they mostly were in the royal court.


    "More than you know," said Safara, "The children of Baltoth all have unique powers and abilities. All based on who their mother was. So, intermarriage between their lines is common. Suloth is ambitious to create a child with all their combined powers and then make them a concubine.


    "Whatever children resulted from such a union would be immensely powerful."


    "That is really sick, you know that," said Kiyora.


    "Baelgost shares the sentiment. It is why our union has been entirely childless," said Safara.


    "Suloth was able to pressure him into accepting the marriage, but he refuses to consummate it."


    "Geeze and I thought I had it bad," muttered Kiyora. "I guess it could be worse. You could be married off to one of Baelgost''s children."


    "He does not have any children. I am his first wife," said Safara.


    "And how old is he?" asked Kiyora.


    "I don''t know exactly," admitted Safara. "The records are a bit, and he hasn''t kept track. Somewhere between two and two hundred younger than Suloth."


    "Who remembers Anoa the Bright, the founder of Harlenor," said Kiyora. "How is it possible? You''d think someone in his position of power well..."


    "Baelgost does not enjoy the company of women," said Safara. "At all. He prefers men."


    Kiyora felt a sense of revulsion. "That''s disgusting."


    Safara looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean?"


    "Well... look, men are supposed to be attracted to women," said Kiyora. "Only women are allowed to swing the other way."


    "Swing the other way?" asked Safara.


    "Like their own gender in... that way," said Kiyora, feeling uncomfortable with the subject.


    "May I ask why?" asked Safara.


    "Five out of six Dreamer Elves are female. If a man is into men, then that means five women may never have children," said Kiyora. "Which is the entire point of relationships in the first place."


    "That is a practical objection," mused Safara. "But it does not prove that what you speak of is wrong. Love, in my mind, does not limit itself to any gender or species."


    "That''s a wonderful idea. You are wrong," said Kiyora.


    "Well?" said Baelgost, looking up. "Are you three merely going to whisper, or are you going to speak to us?"


    "Well, it isn''t every day you see someone fighting a dragon in the ruins of a fallen civilization," said Kiyora. "I figured I''d enjoy the view."


    "Cute," said Baelgost. "Paleth, you owe me a heads weight in silver, I believe?"


    "You''ll get your silver Baelgost," said Paleth. "You don''t need to rub it in."


    "You had a bet?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Baelgost. "Paleth didn''t think you''d show up. I bet that you would."


    "Sorry to disappoint you," said Kiyora.


    "Disappoint?" hissed Paleth. "Hardly. I''m merely out a head weight in silver." And he moved off in a huff. The golden dragon uncoiled himself. He clambered to the edge of the hill and went beyond sight.


    "Don''t take it personally," said Baelgost. "Paleth hates losing money." He looked to Aris. "Aris, I see you are still drawing breath."


    "As are you," noted Aris.


    "Well, what do you expect? Your raids didn''t penetrate nearly deep enough into Calisha," said Baelgost. "And you were always quick to flee when faced with true power."


    "Fine words from one whose armies are like an ocean," said Aris. "Yet Estal has broken many oceans. And had you come there, it would have been your grave."


    "I would relish the opportunity to prove you wrong," said Baelgost with a smile. "Believe me. Alas, peace is the order of the day. And it may last until you are an old man worth no sport."


    "One can only hope that it does not," said Aris.


    Paleth returned, grumbling with a sack of silver coins in his mouth. He tossed it to Baelgost, who caught the bag in hand. "I''ve got your head of silver Baelgost."


    "Why are you so bitter?" asked Baelgost. "You never spend a copper piece of your wealth?"


    "It is mine," said Paleth. "And I cherish it nonetheless."


    "So what are these ruins anyway?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, they''re the remnants of an old temple of Valranor," said Baelgost. "I''ve been hoping we''ll eventually knock it down by accident. Unfortunately, his power still seeps into them, and we haven''t been able to uproot them yet."


    "Why not study them?" asked Kiyora.


    "Valranor doesn''t have anything about him worth studying," said Baelgost. "Unfortunately, there are still cults out there that claim he''s the true Lord of Order. They''re hoping for some destined return when Father dies."


    "What do you think will happen?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''ll get to fight a lot of people," said Baelgost. "If Calisha wins, we''ll burn a lot of towns in Halrenor and kill the Heir of Kings. Then Suloth will take over. If Harlenor wins, they''ll burn down a lot of towns in Calisha and put up a puppet king or something. Then we''ll kill them.


    "Either way, things will go right back to the way they were before, sooner or later. The game of kings and gods always ends in a stalemate."


    Suddenly, Kiyora found herself feeling an urgent call in her mind. It was drawing her away up home. She clutched her head. Something very serious was happening. "Nice. I- Hang on, I''ve got to take this."


    This had better not be another spider demon.

 Chapter Six: The Battle of the Park

    Kiyora felt the sensation of a paw batting against her face. She opened her eyes and warded off her assailant with one hand before rolling over.


    "Kiyora!" said Morpheus'' voice. "Kiyora, wake up quick!"


    Kiyora sat up and pushed her hair away from her face. Looking at the winged cat, she felt awful. Kind of drained. "What is it, Morpheus!"


    "Nightmares are gathering in the park!" said Morpheus. "You''ve got to come quick! Take up your rod!"


    "Fine, fine," said Kiyora, "let me just get dressed. Which park?"


    "The park!" said Morpheus.


    Kiyora pulled on a pair of brown pants and a baggy white shirt. "There are a lot of parks, Morpheus."


    "I don''t know the name, okay," said Morpheus. "I''m not a GPS. Now come on!"


    Kiyora snatched up her rod and followed Morpheus, who pushed up the window and leaped out of it. His wings fluttered as he scaled down the roof. Kiyora turned, opened the door to her room, and walked down the stairs and out the front door.


    Morpheus looked at her in irritation. "Spoilsport." S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You were the one who said nightmares weren''t a big threat," said Kiyora.


    Morpheus turned and led her on without a word. As they rushed through the streets, Kiyora thought she heard him grumbling. Eventually, they came to the park, and Kiyora saw the nightmares. There were three of them. They were like the living shadows she had seen in Artarq. But unlike those, she could hear the distant sound of giggling from these.


    Kiyora raised her rod and spoke the words. "''By the Power of Alchara, I will smite you.''"


    Once again, she went through the whole transformation gig. And once again, she held her rainbow sword in hand. Lunging forward, she slashed through one of the nightmares. Another came toward her and hit her.


    Kiyora felt as if everything was pointless. She also felt some fear. Even so, she''d felt far worse and easily slashed through it. The last one tried to flee, but Kiyora swung her sword. A wave of rainbow color spread outward and consumed it.


    "What is so important that you had to wake me up?" asked Kiyora. "I thought you said nightmares weren''t a big..." Something stepped down beside her. "Deal..."


    She turned around and saw a living shadow. However, it seemed to stretch taller than her. It was taller than the roots of Actovosh, taller than the very sky. Two great violet eyes filled with horror stared down at her. Kiyora took a step back.


    It still wasn''t half as terrifying as Laughing Wraith.


    "That," said Morpheus.


    The nightmare slashed downward. Kiyora leaped away as its massive clawed hand hit the ground. It seemed to explode and send forth dozens of smaller claws that raked at her. She slashed several away with her sword, but still, more of them appeared to cut at her. One hit her skirt and was deflected.


    Kiyora summoned her full power and swung her blade. With another rainbow wave, the hands were all destroyed. The nightmare drew back the stump and reeled in pain. Kiyora looked to Morpheus.


    "Where the hell did that thing come from?" she asked.


    "I don''t know, but we''ve got to stop it," said Morpheus. "A nightmare of that level can kill people." Quick Kiyora, use your Rainbow Slash Attack!"


    "I just did," said Kiyora.


    "Calling the attack name enhances the power," said Morpheus.


    "Why?!" roared Kiyora.


    "I don''t know; it just does," said Morpheus. "Now, do it before it''s too late."


    The now three-legged nightmare regained its footing. Its entire body sprouted thousands of tendrils, all rushing at her simultaneously. Kiyora raised her sword, and time seemed to slow to a crawl. Closing her eyes, she summoned the power of Alchara. That power had lain within her for her entire life.


    She opened her eyes and shone with a many-colored light. "Rainbow Justice Slash!"


    Alchara, above, that was a stupid attack name.


    It did work, though. A wave of rainbow light larger than any she had summoned before was unleashed. There was a horrific screech, and the monster recoiled. For a moment, it was a blighting shadow upon a backdrop of many colors. Then it was burned away. However, the sky was still dark.


    Kiyora tossed the sword into the air, triumphant, before reaching up to catch it. She missed the haft and barely managed to avoid cutting off her fingers. Fortunately, the blade turned in midair and plunged into the ground beneath her. She pulled it out.


    "Got it," said Kiyora.


    Then, around her, three more shadows began to form. They grew out of the park as if they were massive trees. Leering faces could be seen in them, only to disappear and be replaced with agonies. They were all around Kiyora, and the shadows soon grew upwards, even larger than the last one. Every light in the city dimmed and then went out. Every star in the sky was quenched. The grass beneath her feet seemed to claw at her.


    Kiyora raised her sword and focused. A light emerged from it, brighter and brighter. The shadows all around her were driven back in a ring. Yet they were still there, tearing at the edges of her vision. "Where did these come from?"


    "These are all greater nightmares," said Morpheus. "We should have detected these forming a long time ago. They must have been brought in from outside. We should wait for reinforcements from the Department of Spiritual Defense."


    "Yeah, that''s great!" said Kiyora. "Shut up so I can kill them!"


    She didn''t have enough power. Not from Alchara. However, Kiyora was also the Dreaming Goddess. That sensation of not being merely herself returned. She felt as though Kiyora was only a shell she inhabited. Even now, she felt as though she could see everything. "The DSD is already fighting throughout the city. They are defending people from the lesser nightmares. Other cities throughout the Dreamer Empire are fighting as well. But the worst of them are focused here."


    "Are you sure?" asked Morpheus, eyeing her.


    "Yes," said Kiyora. "I just know. I am the Dreaming Goddess, remember. Nightmares are cropping up all over the city. Lieutenant Escalus and the rest of the DSD are dealing with them. However, the worst of them are focused here. I''ll take care of these quick-"


    She began to summon her power. The nightmares drew back in fear. However, Morpheus put a paw on her foot. "Wait, Kiyora," he said. "These creatures only appeared to attack you. I think this is a trap."


    "All right, smart guy," said Kiyora, "you kill them or get me some other help."


    Morpheus paused. "As you wish." Then, the symbol of the sun on his brow shone. A beam of golden light shot out through the barrier. It struck one of the nightmares. The creature screamed and reeled backward before fading away into many shadows. Those shadows were absorbed by the other nightmares, which grew larger still.


    "...That''s all my power," said Morpheus. "I''m going to go get some help." And he leaped out of the barrier. The other nightmares lashed at him, but he flew high above their tendrils and away. The horrors broke off pursuit and continued to slam against Kiyora''s circle.


    "Freaking cat!" muttered Kiyora. "Backing out on me!"


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    The others grew bolder. Kiyora saw them tearing at the light. Minutes dragged on, and she could do nothing. She wanted to use her powers as the Dreaming Goddess. But at the same time, something told her she should not be hasty. To conserve her energy as best she could.


    Hadn''t she been doing that all along?


    As she watched the nightmares flail, she thought she heard something. Screams. Was that Laurus screaming? And Reya and Gisora. They were being torn apart. She had to go to help them. She found herself preparing to spring past the circle to attack the nightmares.


    But something held her back.


    What was she doing? Her friends were hurt. She needed to go to them.


    Except there was no good reason for them to be out here, especially with all the nightmares. Once she realized this, Kiyora suddenly thought the screams changed to be more like the wind. Why had she ever mistaken it for her friends?


    Sweat dripped down her brow. She could feel her power waning. At this rate, she''d have to just chance it and destroy the nightmares alone. It was better to fight an uphill battle than stall till she lost by default. She raised her sword and prepared to attack.


    "Leave her alone!" cried a familiar voice.


    Then, from the shadows above descended Reya. The shy girl landed before Kiyora, and as she did, the skies above opened just a bit to reveal a glimmer of starlight. In her hands was a long staff of oak.


    Morpheus landed next to her.


    "Reya?" asked Kiyora. "What are you doing here?"


    "I made emergency recruitment," said Morpheus.


    "I heard you were in trouble," said Reya. "And there were all these terrible things going on. So I wanted to help." Then she raised her staff and suddenly looked more assertive than Kiyora had ever seen her. "''In the name of Alchara, I will smite you!''"


    Instantly, spectral vines grew from the ground. They twisted around Reya, intertwining around her. Soon, she was wholly obscured from view. Then, a bud appeared, which transformed into a brilliant violet flower. From that flower emerged Reya.


    She wore a silver tiara with a violet gem. Her outfit was much like Kiyora''s but had a longer skirt and fingerless gloves. In one hand was a bow, and by her side was a quiver. Setting an arrow to it, she drew back the bow and summoned green energy around it.


    "Growth Shot!" cried Reya.


    Firing it skyward, it exploded. The glimmer of starlight expanded, and the sky was visible again. And down from it descended green rain. Vines grew up all around them, glowing as they wrapped up the nightmares. They dragged them downwards toward the ground and forced them into place. The nightmares grew new limbs to tear at the vines, but these two were dragged down.


    "Now, Kiyora!" cried Morpheus. "Use your-"


    "I know, I know," said Kiyora. Then she leaped into the air so she had a clear view of both nightmares. Swinging her sword, she unleashed her power. "Rainbow Justice Slash!"


    Down went the colors of the rainbow. They struck the nightmares, and both were helpless to act against it. They screeched in agony and were obliterated. Kiyora landed on one knee.


    It hurt¡ªa lot.


    "Thanks, Reya," said Kiyora, forcing herself to stand. "But how did you do that? I thought you needed practice." Her knee still ached.


    "In emergencies, Alchara grants rookie Dream Sages extra power," said Morpheus. "Also, a Dream Sage''s power results from their personality. Reya is a gardener and has a green thumb, so her powers are associated with plants."


    "I um..." Reya paused. "I know it wasn''t as cool as you, but..."


    "Reya, that was awesome," said Kiyora. "Anyway, let''s see if we can help around the city-"


    "This is bad," said Morpheus.


    "What?" said Kiyora.


    Then she saw he was looking behind her. Following his gaze, she saw many specters. The dead were rising out of the ground in great numbers. They were moaning and screeching at the agony of their existence. There were humans, satyrs, giants, and all.


    Reya set another arrow to her bow. "Growth Shot!"


    Once again, the vines whipped up and bound them. But more and more specters came after them. Kiyora swung her sword and slew more of them with each swing. Yet two more appeared for each one she defeated. Arrow after arrow was fired to keep them back. Finally, enough vines were springing up to keep them in place.


    "How many more of these things are there?" asked Reya, panting and sweating. "How did you last this long, Kiyora?"


    "I''m the Dreaming Goddess," panted Kiyora as she swung again. "This stuff is nothing."


    "You didn''t look like it''s nothing," said Reya.


    "Look, Reya, I got woken up in the middle of the night to deal with this," said Kiyora. "I destroy one nightmare, and the next thing I know, I''m facing an infinite number of them." She slew more of the specters. "How did you become a Dream Sage?"


    "Morpheus told me it was an emergency, and you needed my help," said Reya. "Then, he unlocked my powers."


    Kiyora swung again, and more of them died. At that moment, the vines broke, and the specters rushed at them. Summoning what little power remained, Kiyora plunged her sword into the ground. Another circle of light radiated outward. She felt lightheaded as the specters pressed up against it.


    "This is horrible..." said Reya.


    "Don''t worry," said Morpheus. "Alchara doesn''t expect you to keep being a Dream Sage after this, Reya. This can be a one-time thing if you want."


    "Assuming we get past the one time," said Kiyora. "I need to talk about something, Morpheus. It''ll distract me from how hard this is." Her head was aching.


    "Well, why don''t you ask me some questions," said Morpheus. "I''ll answer as best I can."


    "Where exactly were you when Laughing Wraith invaded anyway?" asked Kiyora.


    "To be honest, we''ve seen a rising of darkness through the Dreamer Empire," said Morpheus. "Actovosh is under the direct protection of Emperor Ictargo. So, we moved most of our Dream Sages to other cities.


    "Also, Wraith outwitted us. He was very clever, you know. The good news is that I now know where these nightmares came from," He stopped.


    "Well?" asked Kiyora.


    "They come from the Dark Elven realm," said Morpheus. "The world of Narvan. Or possibly Nishmar, another planet in the system. But probably Narvan. You can tell because these nightmares emphasize torture and pain. Rioletta has a fetish for that kind of thing."


    "Way too much information," said Kiyora. "And torture and pain as opposed to what?"


    "Nightmares come in all shapes and sizes," said Morpheus. "Sometimes, they make you think you are being chased by something too horrible to imagine. Other times, they make you think others hate you. These are all about direct physical agony."


    "Well then, how did they come from Narvan?" asked Kiyora. "That''s a long way to travel."


    "Narvan is more than another world," said Morpheus. "It exists in direct opposition to our own. If the barrier between the worlds is weakening, it is only natural that something might be able to let them in."


    "But who?" asked Reya.


    "Yes, who among all the universe would have such majesty and power?" asked a familiar voice.


    The specters stopped. Violet flame licked up, and into view stepped Arraxia. She had the Axe of Fortenex in one hand and the Void Stone in the other. And she was smiling in a friendly fashion.


    "Arraxia," said Kiyora. She wasn''t even going to pretend she was surprised.


    "The same. Oh, good job on fighting those nightmares," said Arraxia. "I must say I am most enjoying testing out the full might of the powers of the Void Stone. Our connection gave me the perfect place to use them without fear of reprisal."


    "What are you talking about?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, come now," said Arraxia. "Both of us put a piece of our essence into Baltoth''s Retribution. Thus, we share an innate bond. One which I have used to follow you to this world."


    "Who is this, Kiyora?" asked Reya.


    Kiyora felt afraid. She''d never expected Arraxia to get here. Now, she''d given her the means without even meaning to. But she put on a boldface. "A narcissist with delusions of grandeur," Then she snatched up her sword. Then she summoned her power.


    "Growth Saber!" cried Reya, firing an arrow.


    Arrow and sword unleashed their power. Vines whipped up to bind Arraxia''s legs together. Others grabbed her wrists and pulled them behind her back so that she was forced to stand upright. More and more vines went onto her. Despite herself, Kiyora liked how Arraxia looked tied up. What did that say about her?


    Did it matter? She unleashed her power. "Rainbow Justice Slash!"


    And a rainbow shot towards her. But the Axe of Fortenex blazed with a blood light. The vines burst into flames and fell away. The demoness swung the axe and struck the rainbow. In an instant, hundreds of specters were consumed in the blaze. Their spirits returned to the Void Stone.


    "What are you doing?" asked Arraxia in bemusement.


    "Calling my attacks," said Kiyora. "It''s kind of silly."


    "Well, to each their own," said Arraxia.


    Then she surged forward. Her axe was swung round, and everything went in slow motion. Kiyora could see the Axe of Fortenex gleaming as it went closer and closer to Reya''s throat. Leaping forward, Kiyora brought up her sword and blocked it.


    The weight of the blow forced Kiyora to one knee. Even as she stopped it, Arraxia spun the haft around to strike Kiyora in the face. She reeled back and hit the ground.


    "Oh, you stopped it," said Arraxia. "I was hoping to cut off her head. I''ve never actually killed anything with this axe, and you seemed like a good start."


    "Get out of my world!" hissed Kiyora.


    The command took form. Yet as it rushed toward Arraxia, the demoness stood where she was. For a moment, they stood there. And Kiyora felt Arraxia''s mind, her smug confidence, her desire for power. She wrestled with her will, but Arraxia stood there. Kiyora was exhausted. She''d hardly had any rest for the past few months and could not defeat Arraxia here.


    Not like this.


    "You shouldn''t make commands you can''t back up," said Arraxia. "I rather like it here. I think I''ll stay. But since you seem intent on opposing me, I think you''d better go."


    Then she raised the Void Stone. It glowed, and the world began to shift. Kiyora suddenly found herself being drawn away from Actovosh. She was drawn away from this world. Darkness gripped her, and she was away from that world and into another.


    She blacked out.

 Chapter Seven: The Quest

    The Festival of the Hearth was finally over.


    William had taken little time to enjoy the hospitality of the King. He didn''t like sitting idle, and the day after his arrival, he sought out Eitrigg. The two of them began healing the sick and injured of the capital. William learned that Eitrigg''s ability for healing was nearly as strong as his own. It took him minutes to heal wounds that William could fix in mere moments. Eitrigg couldn''t regrow limbs either. William could, assuming the injury didn''t symbolize anything. Even so, Eitrigg knew several techniques that William found helpful.


    "You should use the bare minimum amount of power when healing," Eitrigg said. He tended to an old man with a broken leg as he did. "It''s better to use a small amount of power to inspire the person''s body to heal itself. Not make miracles left and right."


    "Why is that?" asked William.


    "It''s about efficient use of resources," explained Eitrigg. "You should learn to use a little power to do a lot. Then, when you have to do something massive, you''ll accomplish much more." He paused. "I''ve seen many healers in Elranor''s service, and I''ve never seen someone with your skill, William. Who taught you?"


    "No one," said William. "Elranor granted me power."


    "Well, yes, that''s a given," said Eitrigg. "But you must have had a teacher. What was your first case?"


    "My friend, Felix," said William, "he was stabbed by a satyr through the stomach. He was dying, and I found the power within me. I healed him. Then, later, Elranor appeared before me and offered me a position as one of his paladins."


    "You healed a lethal wound for your first case?" asked Eitrigg. "You must be truly favored."


    "I hope so," said William. "If I''m not in Elranor''s favor, I''m trying to get there."


    The door opened, and Tanith entered. She was clad in a black tunic and pants and stretching. "Hey, Eitrigg, I know you''re going through this pacifist phase, but could you spar with me?"


    "I told you," said Eitrigg. "I''ve given up war."


    "Well, it''s not war," said Tanith. "Come on, just a nonlethal spar." She paused. "What about you, William?"


    "Tanith," said William, "I will spar with you if you let me finish my rounds here."


    "Fine," said Tanith, "I''ll hold you to that." Then she turned and walked out.


    "She never used to be like this," said William. "When we were children, she was easygoing. When we campaigned, she seemed normal, if a bit bloodthirsty. But now she''s never satisfied unless she is fighting someone."


    "It''s her way of coping," said Eitrigg. "When sailing with Argath Marn, we saw... we did things..." His eyes grew distant. "Well, it isn''t something I want to dwell on. Suffice to say what I do now is atonement for what I did then."


    "What happened to Tanith?" asked William.


    "She was Argath''s favorite," said Eitrigg. "And she tried to fill the role." He paused. "After this, I will make rounds to the various villages and heal everyone I can. Why don''t you come with me? You could be of great help. Though it will take several days."


    "Of course," said William. "I don''t feel much like celebrating anyway."


    That had been how William and Eitrigg began their ministry. William did most of the healing while Eitrigg instructed him in better techniques. Among those techniques was meditation¡ªthat and focusing his emotions. William knew that different mental states were better for different kinds of magic. But Rusara did not have the same skill at healing. Under Eitrigg''s instruction, he found himself rapidly improving.


    Felix was there, of course, but he said nothing. He seemed to be wrestling with some inner struggle. Sometimes, he would look far south as if conflicted. However, when William asked about it, he said nothing.


    Eventually, they returned. When they did, Mother was already gone. She had gone out on her own mission, and they had only just missed her. Returning to his room, William had just sat down after getting back when Felix entered. "William, King Estal is here to see you."


    "The King?" asked William. "Of course, let him in."


    King Estal entered. He looked very pleased and looked at William with approval. "I am told that every village in my Kingdom has been visited. The sick and the injured flock to you and are made whole. Those who dabble in the art of healing for-profit curse your name.


    "You are a strange knight, Sir William."


    William flushed with pride. "Thank you," he said. "Yet, I''ve never been formally knighted."


    "And yet you bear the scars of war and carry yourself with strength and nobility few can match," noted Estal.


    "You flatter me, King Estal," said William, embarrassed. "But I am sure you did not come all this way to say just that."


    "No, I did not," admitted Estal. "I think that you may well be worthy of being a knight. If you wish it, I will knight you."


    To be knighted at his age? Well, of course, William had already done his share of questing. "You honor me."


    "First, however. I would have you first complete a quest for me," said Estal.


    That was standard. A tradition that a knight performs a task for the one who did the knighting. "Name it, and it shall be done."


    "Some months ago, we were at war with the cyclopi of the northern highlands," said Estal. "But one of them, the King, crept into Estal and kidnapped my daughter, Cassandra."


    "A cyclops crept past all your guards?" asked William in surprise.


    "He is a sorcerer," said Estal. "Some say he possesses the power of shapeshifting and to meld with the shadows. Now, he holds her hostage, and she languishes in prison. And if we move to attack them, she will surely be killed."


    "You would have me rescue her," guessed William.


    "I would," said Estal. "You may, of course, take whatever companions you wish."


    "Very well, then," said William. "Felix, go find Tanith. She''ll want to be involved in this."


    "Ah, Tanith. I knighted her as well," said Estal. "Good choice. Still, are you certain you should take the Calishan?"


    William felt a surge of resentment but crushed it. "Felix is among my oldest friends. I trust him with my life."


    "Very well," said Estal. "You may choose your companions. And you will depart as soon as possible. I must return to my court. I fear I have judgments to pass."


    The King departed, and William took up his sword. Unsheathing the blade, he stopped. The black sword was far longer and broader than when Moira presented it. The sword had grown as he had grown. The red runes upon it did not glow so brightly. The darkness seemed deeper. Yet the steely glint was stronger.


    He was still looking at the blade when the door opened. Tanith and Felix entered. Tanith was already wearing her armor. She seemed happier than she''d been in days. "Felix tells me we''re going after Princess Cassandra. Sounds fun to me? She''s supposed to be a real beauty."


    "Haven''t you met her?" asked William. "You were here before."


    "Yeah, but I didn''t spend much time in the palace," said Tanith. "I only went there once to be knighted. Mostly, Aris and I were making plans for raids and piracy."


    "Right," said William. "Is there anyone who knows the realm of the cyclopi?"


    "Well, that would be Eitrigg," said Tanith. "He lived in that region before he took to raiding. I''ll go ask him."


    "Let me get my armor on, and I''ll go with you," said William. "Felix, could you help me with this."


    Once again, William wondered why Rusara had chosen such morbid imagery for the armor she gave him. It had been a gift, and he treasured it. Yet the way the helm warped his voice into sounding like a cold north wind disturbed him. He''d known Rusara valued fear as a tactic but hadn''t known that well.


    Tanith led them through the halls. Eventually, she came to a room and banged on the door. "Hey, Eitrigg! Eitrigg!"


    The door opened. "This is a meditation room, you know?"


    "You can sleep when you''re dead," said Tanith. "Are you up for another adventure?"


    "To what end?" asked Eitrigg. "I already told you I''m not going to kill anyone ever again."


    "Not that," said Tanith. "We just need someone who knows the domain of the cyclopi. We''ve got to rescue Princess Cassandra, and you know that area better than anyway."


    Eitrigg remained silent. "...Very well, I will lead you. However, I have a condition."


    "What is it?" asked Tanith.


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    "There is to be no blood spilled without need," said Eitrigg. "Not a single creature, monster or mortal, god or demon is to be killed save at the greatest needs. Promise me this, and I will go with you. Otherwise, find someone else."


    "Oh, come on, Eitrigg. They''re cyclopi, not people," said Tanith.


    "That is my condition," said Eitrigg. "Take it or leave it, Tanith."


    "We accept, of course," said William. "I have no love of blood."


    Eitrigg flinched as he heard the voice. "Well, that is something. We should go soon. I have the feeling we will need haste in this matter."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Tanith.


    "A feeling in my heart," said Eitrigg.


    "We were leaving immediately anyway," said William.


    They quickly got together provisions and made their way out of the palace. With the holiday over, the colorful banners were now mere leftovers. People were tired of drinking and entertainment. Now, a sense of weary contentment was on the streets. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Tanith led them to the gates and past the villages on this side of the gorge. As they walked, they saw a large group of brown-clad men. They were practicing with spears and large round shields. It looked like they were trying to make a formation, but they weren''t doing a very good job. Nor were they trying very hard.


    "Are those the local militia?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Eitrigg. "They are drilling for combat, as is their custom two days a week."


    "They aren''t doing a very good job of it," said William. "Their formation is uneven. They aren''t making proper use of their shields. And the rear lines aren''t even lowering their spears over their shoulders."


    "Truth be told, Estal doesn''t get much use out of its militia save to put down criminals," said Eitrigg. "They are surrounded by water, and the navy is the source of their power."


    "What of the cyclopi?" asked William.


    "The cyclopi don''t attack very often," said Eitrigg. "Or at all. Most of those who have died to them died because they intruded on their territory."


    "Ah," said William.


    They crossed the gorge, and Eitrigg halted a little down the road. William could see the other villages training their militia as well. They weren''t doing much better.


    "We''ll turn off the road here," said Eitrigg. "The cyclopi will have that watched. We must make our way cross country toward the mountain. See up there. Near the peak is a cave, and in that cave dwells the King of the Cyclopi. It is there that we will find Cassandra."


    "If it''s all that easy, why do we need a guide?" asked Felix.


    "Getting there is the trouble," said Eitrigg. "Don''t be fooled by their one eye. A cyclops can see far better than any human. And they''ll have patrols. If we took the road, we''d have been grabbed long before we got anywhere and would have to fight our way up." They began to cut across the country. It had rained the previous night, and the ground was moist. It yielded beneath their feet and was unpleasant to walk in.


    Eventually, they came into a forest leading uphill toward the mountain. The trees here were huge, and their branches were high above them. However, there were still patches of underbrush here or there.


    "Something troubles me, Eitrigg," said William. "You said that cyclopi rarely attack. If so, how did war break out between Estal and the cyclopi?"


    "A young cyclops had taken to stealing the apples from a nobles orchard," said Eitrigg. "One day, the noble and his men wait for him. They ambushed him, blinded him, and sent him off. Some of his friends came by and devoured the noble and his family."


    "I remember this," said Tanith fondly. "Aris and I went after them and shot dead several of them as they fled. Estal started mustering its army. Many soldiers said we should drive out the cyclopi once and for all.


    "Things were just getting good. Then Cassandra got kidnapped, and the whole war ground to a halt. I was looking forward to killing a Cyclops in hand to hand."


    "It was probably for the best," said Eitrigg. "Whichever side had won would have been devastated. Instead, King Estal consulted the Seers of Laevian as to what he should do. And he was told that his daughter would be returned. It would happen when a boy with the valor of knights, clad as death, came to his island by no will of his own.


    "All other efforts would fail."


    "That''s convenient," said William.


    "Not for me. I don''t much like the idea of fighting such creatures," said Eitrigg. "Even if I were willing to kill them. Cyclopi are not evil by nature. Not like satyrs. They largely wish to be left to do as they will. And their crimes are petty."


    "First off, some of my best friends have been satyrs," said Tanith, scorn in her voice. "And secondly, Cyclopi not being evil by nature? I can only assume you mean when they aren''t eating nobles?"


    "They don''t believe in wasting anything," said Eitrigg. "To them, eating another species which they have killed is not wrong, even if that species thinks. After all, the alternative is to let the meat go to waste."


    "Bah," said Massacre with obvious sarcasm.


    William looked up to see that the chimera had snuck upon them. She''d broken off from them at some point and hadn''t appeared during the whole Festival. "Massacre, where did you come from?"


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "So Mother has been training with the militia of Estal?" asked William, "What does she think of it?"


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "That bad?" said William.


    "You can speak with this creature?" asked Eitrigg.


    "Yes. Massacre is very intelligent," said William. "She was just telling me that the militias of Estal need improvement."


    "That is nothing we did not already know," said Eitrigg. "It hardly matters. There are always more mercenaries looking to carve a living out of the hides of Calishans. Truthfully had the militia system not been set out by Anoa the Bright, we likely would have abandoned it."


    "Why not send them with the ships?" asked William.


    "Some do go out with the ships, but not many. When a knight dies in battle, it is a tragedy, but no one will starve," said Eitrigg. "When a peasant dies in battle, they will never return to tend their fields. Commoners are of more use producing food for us since the soil here isn''t as good as the mainland."


    "I suppose-" began William.


    "Stop," said Eitrigg. "Into the underbrush quickly."


    "But-" began Tanith.


    "Quickly," said Eitrigg.


    They rushed quickly to the underbrush. However, even as they did, their feet left huge pits in the earth where they stepped. Hiding there, William looked. "Anyone who comes will see the tracks."


    "One moment," said Eitrigg. He raised a talisman from within his robes and focused on it. "Barden, grant us this blessing." Gradually, the tracks they had left began to recede, the ground returning to the way it once was.


    It was not a moment too soon. For out of the trees came two large cyclopi. They were like the giants of Viokinar, but they had one pure black eye each. Their legs were like those of the satyrs, with a white horn on top of their heads. They carried huge maces in their hands and wore heavy armor.


    Yet they walked without a sound.


    "I swear I saw something out here, Polyus," boomed one.


    "As did I," said Polyus, "Perhaps some adventurers?"


    "They likely lost their nerve like the others," said the first.


    "Still, I don''t like this, Krosus," said Polyus. "I''ll keep a watch here. You head up to the King''s cave and tell him what is happening. Get some warriors down here."


    And he sat down with his back to them. Krosus turned and made his way back up the slope. Leaving them lying in the wet mud with a mere cyclops feet away.


    "Well, we are stuck now, aren''t we?" said Felix.


    "He''s got his back to us," said Tanith. "I''ll sneak up behind him and put a sword in his neck."


    "No. I told you before, no killing," said Eitrigg.


    "Will you get over yourself, Eitrigg?" asked Tanith. "When did you become so spineless?"


    "You-" began Eitrigg.


    "Stop," said William. "Let me think." He considered the situation for a while. "Alright, I''m going out there."


    "You''re wearing full armor," said Felix. "You won''t be able to sneak like that."


    "Who says I''m sneaking?" asked William.


    Then, getting to his feet, he stepped out into the light. Polyus heard him and arose a mace in hand. William raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "Excuse me."


    "What?" said Polyus. "A human? What is your business here? Speak quickly!"


    "I mean you no harm, I assure you," said William.


    "Do you not?" asked Polyus.


    "Yes," said William. "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel. I''ve come on a mission from the King of Estal. He wishes to negotiate the return of his daughter, Cassandra."


    "Then why did you hide?" asked Polyus.


    "I was afraid we would be taken for enemies and killed," said William. "I promised I would achieve my objective without blood."


    "...I don''t know if what you say is true," said Polyus. "However, if it is, you will wait here until my comrade returns. When I have warriors, I shall take you to the King. Then we will see."


    "As you wish," said William.


    Tanith came out with the others. "William, what are you doing?"


    "Improvising. If there really is only one way into the cave, we''ll never get in and out without fighting," said William. "Not unless they let us in."


    "I hope you are right," said Eitrigg.


    "I know you are wrong," snapped Tanith. "Even if peace is made with these animals, there will only be another war. We may as well slaughter them all on our way up."


    "You want to storm the Cyclopi King''s palace with just us?" asked Felix.


    "Bah," said Massacre doubtfully.


    "Why not?" asked Tanith. "There would be stories told of the day."


    "Yes, and once you''d slaughter all those innocents, there would be eternal hatred. Estal and the cyclops would fight for years to come," said Eitrigg.


    "Not if there were no cyclopi left to hate," said Tanith, an edge in her tone. "Tell me Eitrigg, when did the boldest of Prince Aris'' soldiers transform into a pacifist?" The last word was practically spat.


    "You would have agreed with me a few years ago," said Eitrigg.


    "No, I wouldn''t," said Tanith.


    "Yes, you would," said Eitrigg. "You''ve changed, and not for the better. Even since we went with Argath Marn, you''ve lived for blood. It''s all you care about anymore."


    "Well, obviously," said Tanith. "There is no greater glory than the destruction of the enemies of Elranor."


    "Was Argath Marn thinking of Elranor when he ordered the children of that village put on stakes?" asked Eitrigg. "Was he thinking of Elranor when he had those who refused his orders executed? To scare the rest into following suit. Or perhaps when he burned our ship to force us to raid a Calishan port and kill even more people.


    "We were terrified of him. So we did as we were told. Horrors of our creation surrounded us. So we became sadists and learned to laugh at them. When anyone questions, what we did, we said it was for Elranor.


    "Well, I know that to be a lie now. And you do as well."


    "The Calishans aren''t really people. They''re barbarians," said Tanith. "They killed Anoa the IX. Killing them is doing the world a favor."


    "Then what am I doing here?" asked Felix.


    "I..." Tanith paused, "well, you''re different."


    "How?" asked Felix.


    Tanith said nothing.


    "I cannot take back those things I did, Tanith," said Eitrigg. "Neither can you. But for my part, I will try to make amends for them."


    "So you''ve said before," said William, annoyed for reasons he didn''t understand. "We shouldn''t be discussing this here."


    At that moment, a group of cyclopi came through the trees. There were nearly a dozen of them, all holding maces as tall as William was. Their leader came forward, larger than all the rest. His eye peered at them, then Polyus.


    "Polyus, we''re here. Are these the intruders?" he asked.


    "They claim to be emissaries from King Estal, Captain Kronel," said Polyus. "They hope to secure the release of Princess Cassandra. Shall we take them to the King?"


    "Very well. We will bring them," said Polyus. "But keep an eye on them, and if they make any sudden movements, club their heads in."


    Well, this had all gone better than expected. Assuming Tanith didn''t go berserk, they shouldn''t have a problem.

 Chapter Eight: King Themos

    To reach the cave of the cyclopi king they had to scale a long way. It hadn''t been pleasant at all. Climbing mountains wasn''t fun, even when you weren''t wearing full battle armor. By the end, Tanith was in an even fouler mood than she''d been before.


    She kept glancing at the guards around them. Her hand would twitch and go for one of her swords. Then she would draw it back.


    As they got higher, they suddenly came out of the trees and saw a massive wall of rocks piled on top of one another. It circled the knees of the mountain, and all of the trees within three hundred yards of it had been torn out. Not down, out. There were gaping holes in the earth where the cyclopi had pulled them up, roots and all. The trees themselves could be seen in several huge buildings beyond the wall.


    There was only one way into this ring of stone. It was a gatehouse. The gate was built from entire trees bolted together. As they neared it, it opened, pulled aside by two cyclopi. A third one came out to greet them, and he bore a gigantic round shield with a single eye at the center of it.


    "What news, Kronel?" he asked. "Have you prisoners?"


    "No Porly," said Kronel. "These are emissaries, or so they say. They wish to speak with our king."


    "We''ve not had emissaries in years," said Porly, disappointedly. "No matter, the fence is open."


    "Fence?" asked Tanith. "That is a wall."


    "Not to them, it isn''t," said Eitrigg. "The grandfather of King Estal tried to conquer this mountain. He defeated the cyclopi in a battle and pursued them here. But we could not break the wall and was worsted."


    "Couldn''t they have just shot them with arrows?" asked William. "Or cast down the wall with stone-throwers?"


    "Cyclopi are great forgers of steel," said Eitrigg. "And they can make shield walls as well. Their shield walls are far thicker than any shield wall we humans can make."


    They were led through the ''fence.'' Beyond they had to scaled a way up until finally, the ground slid downwards as they neared the peak. They saw a cave whose entrance was as black as night. The cyclopi guards led them into the darkness.


    Then, a very strange thing happened. As soon as they set foot beyond the mouth of the cave, everything was illuminated. They were walking on tiled floors with beautiful designs painted upon them. The ceiling and wall were similarly decorated. And the entire inside was illuminated by great spheres of light. Yet they were dull and did not hurt the eyes to gaze on.


    "Behold, the cave of King Themos," said Kronel. "Where our King dwells."


    "This is a very beautiful cave," said William.


    "You did not imagine our King would live on a bare stone?" asked Kronel. "No, he is a craftsman greater than any other."


    Cyclopi servants were walking this way and that with bundles. As it turned out, the cave became less opulent once you got past the entrance hall. There were still tiles, but there were no designs. William saw a cyclopi herding a vast number of sheep into one passage.


    Eventually, it came to a great stone lying in front of an entrance. Kronel set down his mace and gripped ahold of the stone. Heaving with his legs he rolled it aside to reveal a great hall. Within it was a massive throne, and on that sat a smaller cyclops. His skin was darker than the others, and his horn was longer. His face was wrinkled, and he was missing his left index finger.


    As they came forward, he raised his eyebrow. "Kronel, you return with a strange company. What is the meaning of this visit?"


    "I come with emissaries from King Estal," said Kronel. "They have come seeking to negotiate the release of Princess Cassandra."


    "Let them come forward," said King Themos.


    William walked forward and came before him. Falling to one knee, he removed his helm, letting his hair fall around his shoulders. "Greetings to you, King Themos. I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel, and I bear no ill will toward your people. Indeed, I desire peace be reestablished between your people and the people of Estal."


    Themos narrowed his eye. "You... you have seen the goddess Typhos."


    "I am," said William. "I have been both friend and foe to her in the past."


    "Your words are fair," said Themos. "Yet it is for peace that I have kept Princess Cassandra with me. It grieved me to do so, but Estal''s armies were mustering. Many on both sides would have been destroyed had I not taken her there.


    "But she does not languish in a dungeon as some may claim. She is given the freedom to walk my halls, even to go outside."


    "May I speak with her then?" asked William. If he could get her to write a letter, it would go a long way to helping his case.


    "You may," said Themos. "However, I cannot release her. Not so long as Estal plans to march against us."


    "Perhaps some kind of agreement can be reached."


    At that moment, a tall and thin cyclops came forward. He wore a long brown cloak, and a staff made from an entire tree was in his hand. He coughed.


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    Themos looked up. "Ah, my sage, Pelmus. What is it?"


    "Majesty, I have received a vision from Typhos," said Pelmus. "I must speak to you at once."


    "We will have to continue this discussion later," said Themos. "I will extend to you the hospitality of your house. So long as you vow not to harm anyone within or seek to remove Princess Cassandra by force."


    "You have our oath," said William.


    "Good," said Themos. "Kronel, take them to Cassandra."


    Once again, they were herded into a side passage that led into the mountain. As they walked, Tanith looked even more irritated than before. "What are you thinking, William? We could have just hacked and slashed our way up here without spending time on boring negotiations."


    "Tanith, you can''t solve all your diplomatic problems by killing people," said William.


    "Why not?" asked Tanith. "It''s worked out pretty well for the Calishans."


    "Baltoth prefers to divide their enemies one way or another. Rather than to conquer them one by one," said Felix. "To do that, you must have an active diplomatic presence."


    "Oh, and I suppose you''re an expert on Baltoth," said Tanith.


    Felix smiled for some reason. It was a knowing smile. "I know him better than you."They came to a smaller room. And in this place, there were pieces of furniture that were not meant for cyclops but humans. Even so, they were big for a small person.


    Sitting in one of those slightly overlarge seats was a pretty young woman clad in a white dress. She looked at William curiously. "So, more would be heroes?"


    "Emissaries, milady," said William. "Are you Princess Cassandra?"


    "Yes." said the woman. "Who are you?"


    "We''re hoping to arrange for your release," said William.


    "Well, it''s a better strategy than the last band of mercenaries," said Cassandra. "Most don''t make it past the entry hall. Themos is clever. And very good at stealth."


    "He''s twenty feet tall," said Felix.


    "Fifteen, actually," said Cassandra. "And that has never stopped him before. When he grabbed me from my bedroom, I was looking out the window, and I didn''t even see him until he grabbed me."


    "Is he related to Neseriah by chance?" asked Felix.


    "Neseriah?" asked Tanith.


    "One of Baltoth''s children," said Felix. "The result of his union with a race of giant bats. They are very good at melding with shadows. I''m descended from her."


    "That''s disgusting," said Tanith.


    "He shape changed," said Felix.


    "Bats aren''t people," said Tanith. "They can''t give consent."


    "I''m sorry, Tanith. Did you ask for consent from any of those priestesses you raped?" asked Felix.


    "It was only one," said Tanith. "And that was during a war."


    "How is what Baltoth did any worse?" asked Felix. "The bats certainly didn''t care in the end. I expect the girl you''re keeping as a slave back in Ran Telus might have some objections to her status."


    "Can we please not discuss this?" asked William. "No one here wants to hear about Baltoth''s or Tanith''s conquests."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Quiet Massacre," said William. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''m with the one in skull armor," said Cassandra. "This doesn''t interest me."


    "Of course, I forgot," said William. "I haven''t introduced myself. I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel. You have been in the company of King Themos for some time. I wonder if you have any ideas as to what can be done to convince him to release you."


    "Well, he''s been very courteous with me," said Cassandra. "I''m never hurt, and he provides fine food and drinks for me. I do know that he thinks that he''ll lose if it comes to all-out war. That''s why he was so keen on taking me hostage."


    "We could use that," said Felix. "If we convince Themos that King Estal will gladly sacrifice his daughter. Especially if it means avenging an insult."


    "I don''t want to threaten anyone," said William. "It breeds resentment."


    "Look, why don''t we grab the girl and hack our way out?" said Tanith.


    "No," said William. "We have given our oath."


    "You''ve given your oath," said Tanith. "I haven''t said anything."


    "We are not going to start a bloodbath under any circumstances," said William. "Now, stop asking."


    "Fine," said Tanith.


    At this point, Themos emerged from the shadows, clad in full armor. "I''m glad to hear that, young William. You may be someone I can negotiate with after all."


    How had William missed him?


    "He does this a lot," said Cassandra.


    "...When did you get there?" asked William.


    "I have been here the entire time. I am of the third generation descended from Neseriah," said Themos. "Your guess was correct. Cousin."


    "Oh," said Felix. "So it was."


    "At any rate, I have received news from my soothsayer," said Themos. "He says that Baltoth desires to establish relations with the cyclopi. I am inclined to accept his offer. Friendship with my ancestor''s empire would protect my people."


    "I wouldn''t trust a friendship with Baltoth too deeply," said William. "You may end up one of his subjects."


    "Of that, I am well aware," said Themos. "I want to negotiate with King Estal to gain his friendship. Playing the sides against each other is an ancient art with a long and glorious history.


    "It is a shame that you aren''t here as an emissary."


    "My quest was to arrange the return of Princess Cassandra," said William. "I took some liberties with my methods."


    "Meaning that King Estal wanted you to barge in, sword drawn, and hack your way to victory?" guessed Themos. "Just as several previous mercenaries and adventurers have tried?"


    "More or less," admitted William. "Though I do not think he would object to having her returned peacefully."


    "I cannot release Cassandra just yet," said Themos. "However, instead, I will send you back to King Estal bearing many gifts. There was a time when the Cyclops were sought after for our art and skill at craftsmanship.


    "You will tell King Estal that I am willing to begin negotiations for his daughter''s return."


    "King Themos, would you allow me to write a letter to my father?" asked Cassandra. "I wish him to know the truth of my captivity."


    "Of course," said Themos.


    "Good," said William. "I will observe her writing it. That way, I may tell King Estal that she did not write it under duress."


    "A good plan," said Themos. "I will give your company a place for the night. And in the morning, you will eat and depart for Estal."


    "As you wish," said William.


    It''s not the most heroic of achievements, but it''s still worthwhile.

 Chapter Nine: The Swan Goddess

    Days later, William kneeled in the great hall of King Estal with his comrades beside him. Before him, on the ground were several chests of gold and silver. The King looked upon him in bemusement but not displeasure. The same could not be said of the advisor beside the throne. "You bring me gifts from the cyclopi, William? This is not as I expected your return."


    "Your pardon, your majesty. However, I judged that to storm the Royal Cave would invite a full-scale war," said William. "One that could ill be afforded with the Calishans so near at hand.


    "Baltoth knows to strike at weakness.


    "Thus, I approached King Themos and requested he give her back. He promised to attempt to agree with you. These gifts are a gesture of goodwill."


    "Absurd!" said the advisor. "You were sent to free the princess; instead, you have returned with baubles. That and the false promises of monsters!"


    "I was given this letter to you. It is written by Princess Cassandra''s hand," said William, focusing on Estal. "To demonstrate that she has not been ill-treated." He drew out the letter from his bag and offered it. A servant took the letter before bringing it to King Estal.


    Estal unrolled it and read it. "Yes, yes, this is her handwriting." He looked back to William. "Tell me, how did she look when you saw her?"


    "She looked weary and ill at ease," said William. "But she was healthy, unharmed, and left to walk the Royal Cave freely. In truth, however, the cave is finer than many palaces I''ve seen. I do not think the cyclopi have been cruel to her.


    "I watched her write the letter myself, and no cyclopi laid eyes on it. They do not know what is written. Whatever she says, there ought to be the truth."


    Estal clasped his hands before him and leaned back on his throne. "This is unexpected. But you are indeed your father''s son."


    "Well spoken, my liege," said the advisor. "Duke Vanion has always preferred to negotiate with the enemies of Elranor. Do not face them in open combat. This boy may wear a terrible visage, but he is weak of heart."


    "Be silent, Esgroth," said Estal. "You mistake praise for condemnation. There is a place for words and diplomacy, just as there is a place for the strokes of swords. To pursue the former is no crime, and Vanion has proven bold in the latter.


    "Though I fear he was in error to seek a truce with Calisha."


    "Are you not seeking a truce as well, Your Majesty?" asked William.


    "I am," said King Estal. "For I know well that we cannot stand against Calisha alone. However, before the truce was signed, we had won many great victories at sea against the Calishans. Had the war continued, we should have been able to press our advantage. We could do great harm to Baltoth''s designs.


    "I fear that many knights of Estal are not fond of the name Gabriel."


    "Then I will do all I can in my time here to prove my devotion to the cause of Harlenor," said William.


    "That is all a man can do," said King Estal. "Yet the possibility of a truce with the cyclopi is problematic. How would you go about seeking a truce?"


    William considered his answer. "I would have it be one that no one is fully satisfied with."


    Estal looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "An interesting idea. Why should we seek such an arrangement?"


    "When two men negotiate, and one man gets everything he wants," said William, "the other man will get nothing. He will resent the negotiation and take the first chance to reverse the result.


    "Yet if a man gets only part of his desires, he will never be satisfied with the result. But he may still hesitate to seek reprisal for fear of losing what he has.


    "It is thus better for both men to get something out of an arrangement. They may loath it but will still uphold it for their own sake."


    "A pragmatic concept," said Estal. "Grounded in the real. Yet that is not all there is. In time, young William, you will find that some things cannot be allowed. In some matters, to yield ground is to submit to wickedness.


    "Yet not, I think, in this one. I shall begin my negotiations with King Themos. And I pray that some understanding may be reached.


    "Still, this leaves the matter of your knighting. I shall not call the quest a success or a failure until the negotiations occur. If my daughter is returned to me, I shall gladly knight you. Should she be kept captive, then I will find some other task worthy of knighting."


    "As you wish, King Estal," said William.


    When William returned to his quarters, he found Mother waiting for him. She was polishing her shield on one knee. Her long blonde hair was tied behind her head, and her green eyes flicked over him as he entered. "William, there you are. You have been busy."


    "I was on a mission from King Estal," said William.


    "Was it successful?" asked Azgora.


    "I don''t know yet," said William. "Perhaps. How fares your efforts with the militia?"


    "A collection of weak fools if ever there was one," said Azgora. "I sought permission from King Estal to whip them into shape. And I have gained it. My first order of business was to flog everyone who arrived late."


    "That is somewhat harsh, isn''t it?" asked William.


    "The men and women of this land have grown fat and lazy," said Azgora. "They are sheltered from assault by the cliffs of this island. They fight with mercenaries and knights. I will not allow such sloth. Their strength shall befit their noble heritage when I finish with them.


    "I will not allow the men of this region to decay into the spineless weaklings of my land."


    "Of course, Mother," said William. There was no reason with her like this.


    "That reminds me of something," said Azgora. "I have a letter for you from your father." She reached over to a table and drew it out. "Take it."


    "Father?" asked William. "How did he find us?" Wait, that was a foolish question. "Oh right, the runes on my sword. How did he deliver it with the winds so calm?"


    "Rusara sent it by bird," said Azgora.


    "Then she is with him?" asked William, taking the letter. "Let me see it." He opened the letter, drew it up, and read it.


    "My son,


    I don''t pretend to know what you are doing on Estal. However, I advise you to leave. Now. I have managed to convince them to seek a truce with Calisha. But knowing the character of Prince Aris and his company, there is a good chance of a war.


    I will tell you what happened now that I''ve gotten the advice. I have arrived in the Iron Kingdom with a fleet of mercenaries who had gathered to fight the raishans. I had originally intended to conquer the place by force. In retribution for that fiasco with the Axe of Fortenex, of course. Fortunately, I''ve been spared the trouble of doing so by Melchious'' stupidity.


    The countryside has been largely depopulated. My initial assessment indicates that four out of every ten people are dead. It is far worse in the city itself. More will soon follow, for the giants have been launching raids. However, these numbers may be exaggerated due to the populace''s panic.


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    I''ve allied with the survivors'' leader, Lord Byran. We''ve been cooperating to conquer the giants and Einheroth to secure the Kingdom. I intend to set him up as King, of course. He''s competent but weak enough that he''ll need to rely on us for support. Better still, there are vast tracts of land open for colonization. I''ve already made the arrangements with King Andoa. An expedition is being made as we speak. And I have Rusara working to appease the spirits of the land to accept us.


    Of course, all this chaos means I won''t be back in Artarq for at least a month. I''ve left Raynald in charge in my absence. Not an ideal fit, of course, but we''re stretched a bit thin. I''ll need you to keep him from doing anything too reckless. Thus, you should set out for there immediately.


    Sincerely yours,


    Your Father, Vanion Gabriel, Governor of Artarq, Lord of Carn Gable, Duke of Brisgald.


    William remembered the bloodletting unleashed by Melchious. Men, women, children, old and young alike. All dead. They had torn each other apart, driven mad by the will of the Dark Dreamer. His mouth went dry, and he felt cold. He looked at the letter and narrowed his eyes.


    "Thousands, maybe tens of thousands of people died in the Iron Kingdom," said William. "And he doesn''t even care."


    "Vanion was not there," said Azgora. "And he does not think like you or me, William. Vanion sees opportunities and resources. He has to work hard to think of people as people unless he has met them. Most people do.


    "He represents what is greatest in the men of my land. Yet he is not without the virtues of those who dwell in these eastern lands," She paused. "There is a bird waiting here for a response. Will you write to him?"


    "Yes," said William. "Felix, get me a quill and parchment. I need to write my reply."


    Wordlessly, Felix obeyed, and William went into his room. Sitting by a desk, he muttered an incantation and created a bright light from the Sun Spirit. Then he began to write.


    "Dear Father,


    Thousands of people died in the Iron Kingdom. It would be goodgood if you could pretend to be concerned about the fact. As for your colonization plans, it seems to be in poor taste. Do you truly think of the devastation of the Iron Kingdom as an opportunity? There are many colonies we have already made. I think we should support Byran in securing his kingdom, accept tribute for Antion, and leave. As for Melchious, what in Elranor''s name makes you think he is stupid?


    Melchious destroyed the Iron Kingdom because destruction and misery were his end goal. And judging by his speech, I suspect it was only the prelude to greater horrors. Fortunately, Mother killed his avatar, or he might be enacting them now. As it is, Arraxia escaped with the Void Stone and the Axe, which is honestly preferable. She, at least, has a vested interest in the continued existence of life. She desires its subjugation rather than its destruction.


    Also, for all her airs, I suspect she is not competent enough to use either.


    Regarding setting out for Artarq, I can do no such thing. An unnatural wind drove us to Estal, and we have been becalmed ever since then. The air itself conspires to keep us trapped. I''ve been spending my time here trying to negotiate a truce between Estal and the cyclopi.


    I am doing this because peace is good. Not because I plan to dethrone both at a later date.


    Sincerely yours,


    Your son, William Gabriel."


    Wordlessly, he offered it to Felix, who read through it. His expression became concerned. "Well, it is blunt. I wouldn''t send it if I were you."


    "I will," said William "It''s disgraceful the way he just sees an opportunity in Melchious'' actions."


    "All great figures seek opportunity," said Mother. "They seize their destiny and defy their fate. It is in such efforts that we are known as great. Not merely as another link in the chain of nobility."


    "There are other kinds of greatness than conquest," said William.


    "You''re wrong, William," said Felix. "Every achievement in the history of the world is born from conquest. When you heal and destroy a disease, you are overcoming a challenge¡ªconquering it, if you will. When you build a road through woodlands, you subjugate nature to your will.


    "Duke Vanion understands this. In all things, he attempts to enforce his will upon the universe. And he does so with great skill. He is a man after Baltoth''s own heart."


    "Silence!" said William, raising a hand.


    Felix flinched. William realized he''d been about to strike him. He lowered his hand. "Felix, forgive me, I... I wasn''t thinking."


    "I''m well aware," said Felix without expression. "You rarely think about things before you do them. Either you think about things and reach all the wrong answers."


    "Why is it wrong to challenge my father''s actions Felix?" asked William. "Tell me that?"


    "Because you are his heir. You will eventually inherit his domain and everything he gains," said Felix. "It is in your interest that he conquers and grows great. And nothing you do should interfere with that conquest.


    "Send that letter, and you will prick his pride. Proud men do reckless things when they are challenged."


    "You aren''t seriously suggesting that my father might disinherit me?" asked William. He''d known Felix was paranoid. He hadn''t thought it to this extent.


    "Not over this," said Felix. "But one slight challenge can lead to greater confrontations. Little by little, these conflicts escalate until you are both estranged."


    "Felix, you are being paranoid," said William. "Father isn''t going to disinherit me because I sent him one letter."


    "Believe what you will," said Felix.


    William resealed the letter and brought the letter to Azgora. "Mother, here is my letter. Could you give it to the bird?"


    "Of course," said Azgora. "I have already prepared my own letter."


    William looked to Felix. Suddenly, he wanted to be by himself. He wasn''t sure why. He wanted no one around him for miles. "I''m going to take a walk."


    "Right," said Felix.


    "Alone," said William.


    "You want me to leave you alone?" asked Felix.


    "I need to think about things, Felix," said William. "I need to be on my own."


    "...As you wish," said Felix. There was something else in his eyes. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    William''s feet carried him away from the palace and into the lands around the palace. He found himself walking amidst the trees. Darkness came on, and the moonlight glinted off his armor. In time, he came to a pond, feeling almost as if he had been drawn there.


    Swimming upon the pond was the most magnificent swan he had ever seen. The white feathers were brighter than any he had seen. Its neck was tall and proud, and it swam toward him. Unsure as to why William sat down by the edge of the pond as the swan drew near.


    Reaching out a hand for it, the swan drew near. He could almost touch it.


    Then, there was a shower of gold, and the swan was gone. In its place was a tall, immensely beautiful woman who was stark naked. Her legs were as long and curvaceous as Mother''s, and she had huge breasts matching even Arraxia. The curve of her hips and thin waist made for the most beautiful hourglass figures. The bounce of her chest was hypnotic. Her hair was long, coming down in bangs on either side. And there was a star on her brow gleaming while her eyes shone with power. Woman.


    William found his armor dropping for a moment, stunned by her beauty. Then she smiled and was upon him.


    Before he knew what was happening, she had forced him onto the ground. He tried to push her off, but her arms had an impossible strength. Soon, she had him pinned. His helm was forced off of him.


    Soon her lips were pressed against his. The sensation of her tongue forcing its way into his mouth made his head go blank with pleasure. He felt her hands gripping his armor, roaming across it. The straps were straining and about to break, and he strove to get her off, but this only added to her enjoyment.


    He could hardly breathe as she nibbled his neck. Hardly move. What the hell was going on?


    "Zeya!"


    The voice carried throughout the lands. The woman drew back. Before William could speak, she forced a hand over his mouth. She pushed his head down to the ground. An expression of panic went across the woman''s face, and she looked at William. Her eyes flared brighter for a moment.


    Then William found himself changing. He felt horrific pain as his armor merged into his flesh. His nose grew larger and flat. His hands and feet transformed into hooves, and blonde fur grew from his body. He yelled, and what he heard was the moaning of cattle. The woman put forth a hand and began to scratch him behind the ears.


    Out of the trees came a man. He was slender of build and looked effeminate to William. He wore violet robes and carried a staff in hand. He radiated a sort of enraged fidelity, which was difficult to look at. His hair was silver, and he had a book by his side. The woman looked at him with an innocent look. "Yes, what is it, Herus?"


    Mel''Zayer? The god of the hearth? Of marriage?


    "Zeya, just what do you think you are doing?" asked Mel''Zayer.


    "Nothing. I was merely admiring this bull," said Zeya. "The creature is magnificent, is he not?"


    Zeya. This was the goddess Zeya that Mother had worshipped all her life. She had just tried to force herself on William. He could hardly conceive of what had just happened. The degradation and insult were unbearable to him.


    Mel''Zayer obviously didn''t believe a word Zeya had said. Surely, he would call her on this. "...He is. Indeed, he is a creature of great strength. Will you give him to me, my dear?" His voice was melodious and fatherly.


    Zeya paused, caught in her lie. "Give him to you?"


    "Yes," said Mel''Zayer. "As a gift, my darling wife."


    Zeya smiled nervously. "Yes, yes, of course. You may have him with my blessing."


    Mel''Zayer put forth a hand, and from it came a golden rope that wrapped itself around William''s neck. He found his will being sapped. All he could think was that this was not fair. He had done nothing. Yet now, he was being taken into slavery for the crime of his assailant.


    "Wonderful," said Mel''Zayer. "Come, creature. I have a place for you."


    William could not disobey. His will to resist was gone.

 Chapter Ten: Tanith and Medusald

    Tanith turned the blade of the knight, then brought down her sword. She smote him across the helm, and he fell backward. Landing with a crash, he attempted to rise. But Tanith set her left foot on her sparring partner''s neck and pointed her sword at his eye.


    Just a few inches. Just a few more, and she''d gouge it out. Blood would spill. She could say it was an accident. No, no, don''t act on those urges; they were for enemies, not friends.


    "I yield," said Esgroth, laughing as he sheathed his sword. "I see your martial skills are as great as ever, Tanith."


    Tanith smiled and stepped back. "Good match, Esgroth." She spun her sword around then sheathed them. Nodding to him, she walked out, washing the sweat from her face in a fountain. Glancing up, she saw Felix standing by. He had been observing, like always. Only then did she sigh.


    "I need something to kill," said Tanith.


    "What?" said Felix.


    "You heard me. I haven''t shed any blood in days and days," said Tanith. "I hate sitting idle like this, just waiting for the winds to fix themselves."


    "Why are you so obsessed with killing?" asked Felix.


    Tanith shrugged. "I enjoy it.


    "I enjoy chess," said Felix. "I don''t feel a compulsion to go out and play it. Eitrigg had a point."


    "You''re only saying that because you''re Calishan," huffed Tanith.


    "Given that others have said it who are not Calishan, I''d say you are more than proven wrong," said Felix. "Why don''t you try sparring some more?"


    "No good," said Tanith. "Sparring is a poor substitute for real blood. I guess. Where is William? Usually, you''re his shadow."


    "He went out on his own walking last night," said Felix. "Then he never came back."


    "Well, he can take care of himself, I''m sure," said Tanith. "He''ll be back."


    "Would that that were so, daughter of Azgora," said a voice.


    Tanith looked up to see a shower of gold. Into sight appeared a white-haired beauty that Tanith would love to have sport with. She had beautiful breasts and hips that were nice and wide. She was a bit muscular for Tanith''s taste, but no one was perfect. Even so, Tanith licked her lips at the idea of covering this woman in her blood. She cutting off the air going into her lungs by clenching her fingers around her throat. She could hold it there for a minute until the woman''s face began to go blue. Then she could release it, enough so she could take a breath then...


    Her thoughts were getting a bit forward here. Tanith knew she ought not to think about women whom she''d just met like this. Mother had always told her to only think about slaves like that. And not to actually physically cut them or anything, just have her way with them. These fantasies were not healthy.


    Still, she could hardly be blamed for thinking of it. Wearing a tunic that bared legs like that, this woman was practically asking for it.


    "I''m sorry, who are you?" asked Tanith, pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind. This wasn''t the time or place.


    "I am the goddess Zeya and your ancestor," said Zeya.


    Oh, so this was the Rape Goddess then. That explained the shower of gold. She really was asking for it; it''d be no more than she deserved. What kind of slime went around raping people on her own team? "I''m fully human. I think I''d know if the Telus bloodline had any divine in it."


    "Telus?" asked Zeya.


    "Yes," said Telus. "That''s my name. Tanith Telus. What did you think it was?"


    "She isn''t related to Lady Azgora," said Felix, voice hard. "William is."


    Zeya froze. She clenched her fist and looked upward. "...Fortenex."


    "What?" said Tanith.


    "Nothing. There is a grave mission I have for you," said Zeya. "William has been captured by my husband Herus and in a faraway land. If you are to rescue him, you must come with me now."


    "Wait, what?" said Tanith. "Why would Herus want to capture William?"


    "Yes, Zeya," said Felix. "why would Herus want to capture William?" S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "That is unimportant," said Zeya quickly.


    "I think it is," said Tanith.


    There was a crack of thunder. "Do not question me, mortal! I am Zeya! Arbiter of the Heavens!"


    Zeya had tried to rape William, hadn''t she? That didn''t seem all that bad. William was far too tightly wound as it was, and there were far worse possible ways for it to happen. Although they were blood relations, so it actually was kind of sick. "...As you say, Goddess of Heaven."


    "Good," said Zeya. "Then, we will go now."


    With a motion of Zeya''s hand, they shifted.


    Suddenly they were standing upon a beach of golden sand. The plants here were very different from those of Estal. The soil was rockier here, and Tanith noticed a huge ruin of white stone. It had been built with pillars rather than arches. Vines were growing up those pillars, and at the far end of a plaza, Tanith saw a tomblike structure.


    "This is the island where William has been taken," said Zeya. "He is imprisoned within.


    "What kind of resistance can we expect here exactly?" asked Felix.


    "There is only one guardian in this place," said Zeya. "A creature called a medusa. Do you know what that is?"


    "No," admitted Tanith. Although she had read about a lot of things, her expertise was focused on Harlenor. That and the surrounding nations. Duke Vanion rarely spoke of Themious.


    "She has the body of a snake and the upper body of a human," said Zeya. "Her hair is snakes, and all who look on her directly are turned to stone. Long ago, she was a priestess of mine before she was cursed."


    This medusa sounded cute. If she was Tanith, she just needed a way to deal with the stone gaze. "Why was she cursed?


    "The Fish King, Lord of the Waves, had his way with her in my Temple," said Zeya. "Thus, I transformed her into what she is. Herus has promised to lift her curse if she holds William here until he dies."


    "Did she consent?" asked Felix.


    "What?" asked Zeya.


    "Did she consent to the Fish King?" asked Felix.


    "Why should that matter? My temple was desecrated, and someone had to suffer for it," said Zeya. "Medusald was an easier target. I couldn''t afford to have a war between gods."


    "How exceedingly just of you," said Felix. "In Calisha, we prefer to punish the person responsible for the crime."


    "I know who you are, Felix," said Zeya, and her voice held a warning. "Do not presume to judge me. I have been the goddess of the heavens since before you even existed."


    "Hold on, why can''t you just kill Medusald yourself?" asked Tanith.


    "I do not want my actions to be known to Herus," admitted Zeya. "For reasons beyond your comprehension, this must remain a secret."


    "I think I understand," said Tanith. Herus had caught her in the act, hadn''t she? And this was Zeya trying to cover for her own screwups. "But I want something in return."


    "William is your friend, is he not?" asked Zeya, eyes narrowed.


    "Sure, but I''m still taking a serious risk to rescue him," said Tanith. "The first rule of working as a mercenary is never do something for free if you can get something out of it." Right now, Tanith was imagining the snake woman. She must have been a real looker to attract the attention of a god. Although it was possible, the transformation had ruined her beauty. Or maybe the Fish King just had terrible taste.


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    Why would the God of the Unknown want to have his way with a mortal woman? Wasn''t he supposed to be completely incomprehensible. Although maybe he wanted to try experimenting or something. Then again, all those people in the Islands of Power who had his bloodlines had to have gotten them from somewhere.


    It didn''t really matter. What mattered was the medusa.


    Okay, so if she were nice to look at, Tanith would have her way with her. If not, she''d get to kill something. Either way, she won. Tanith would decide when it came to it.


    Zeya looked at her with narrowed eyes. "I could destroy you with a word."


    "Yes, but then you''d have to find someone else to rescue William," said Tanith. "Besides, you wouldn''t go to all this trouble to free William unless you needed him for something. He and I are close. Kill me, and you alienate him."


    Zeya held her gaze for a moment. Tanith had difficulty keeping the gaze. Zeya eventually looked skyward in resignation. "...Very well, I will grant you whatever you desire, within reason, once he is freed."


    "Great," said Tanith. "So how do I kill something I can''t look at?


    "You can look at her," said Zeya. "Give me your swords."


    Tanith drew out her swords and tossed both into the air. As they came down, she caught the flats between her fingers. She offered both to Zeya, who took them in her hands. The blades flickered, and then Tanith saw her own reflection in them. It was clearer than any mirror she had seen. Zeya offered both back to Tanith, who took them.


    "See her through these blades," said Zeya, "and you will be safe from her gaze."


    "Does she sleep?" asked Felix.


    "All mortals sleep. So yes," said Zeya.


    "When does she sleep?" asked Felix.


    "At night," said Zeya.


    "All right then. Here is my plan," said Felix. "We''ll wait until nightfall when she is sleeping. When she is, I will go in there with one of those sword''s mirror, kill her in her sleep, free William, and bring him out here."


    "That is... pragmatic," said Zeya, voice disapproving.


    "It will work. Won''t it?" asked Felix.


    "Oh come on, Felix, that plan won''t let me kill anything," said Tanith. "Nothing that can''t fight back anyway. Trying to kill something I can only look at with a mirror sounds fun. Also, killing someone in their sleep is just dishonorable. I''m a knight; I''m supposed to fight people in single combat."


    "Well, Tanith, if you are in such a hurry to be turned to stone, you may try it first," said Felix. "Just leave one of your swords here so I can make my own attempt."


    "Fair enough," said Tanith. Then she drove a blade into the ground before them. "If I''m not back soon, just assume she got me."


    "There is one more thing," said Zeya "William has been transformed into the form of a white bull. You will know it by the scar over his eye."


    "How did that happen?" asked Tanith. She knew Herus had probably caught her in the act. But what connection did that have to being turned into a bull? Some sort of attempt to cover up.


    "You need not know that either," said Zeya.


    Did she seriously think she was fooling anyone? "Whatever you say."


    Her tone must have irritated Zeya. "I am a god. I need not account for anything I do to you."


    "So you did do something," said Felix.


    "I will return to this beach when you have rescued him," said Zeya. "You must not fail. This is far more important than any petty matter." She was gone in a flash of lightning.


    Felix looked to Tanith. "Are you sure you want to try and fight Medusald?"


    "Sure," said Tanith, spinning her new mirrorlike blade. "It wouldn''t seem fair, just going and cutting off her head while she was asleep."


    "Your funeral," said Felix.


    This was going to be so great.


    Tanith made her way toward the entrance. Drawing near, she entered it. To her surprise, it was quite well lit. Torches were on the walls, and her shadow was very long. She guessed that it would be difficult turning people to stone if they couldn''t see anything.


    Her suspicion was proved correct as she rounded a corner and saw a set of statues. Most of them were women and very beautiful ones at that. All were statuesque with large breasts and wide hips. There was also a pleasant tendency for their armor to bare their long legs. Tanith probably would have had great sport breaking a few of them. It was a pity they were statues now.


    She listened and kept her eyes peeled as she came to a branching hall. On a whim, she took a left, peering into the darkness. Wait, that was the last thing she should do.


    Coming to a corner, she brought up her sword and looked into the reflection. On it, she could see a hall of many pillars. And between those pillars were dozens and dozens of statues: satyrs, more of the women. A low hissing sound could be heard, but she could see nothing. Slipping around the corner she turned the blade. She saw that there was another doorway some ways away. Tanith guessed that it led into the hall she hadn''t taken.


    Stepping out into the hall, she checked past the corners using the reflection. As she did, she heard a sound, a low hissing. Raising the sword, she ducked behind a pillar and brought up the sword. In its reflection, he saw a shadow ¡ª the lower body of a snake with hips wider than were possible with any normal human. Her scales were sea green, and her waist was thin, leading up to a pair of enormous breasts covered by rags. Tanith could see two glowing green eyes as the creature came forward upon a shapely face.


    Well, she was certainly worth Tanith having her way with.


    "Well, human. I smell you and hear the footfalls of your armor," came a hissing voice. "Have you come seeking glory and my head? You will find neither?" Tanith saw her face and immediately decided she wasn''t going to cut it off. She was very beautiful.


    How to finesse this?


    "Of course not," said Tanith. "I wanted to look at you and know if you were truly as beautiful as the tales said they were. I thought they were only exaggerating."


    "...That''s a first," said Medusald. "What do you make of them then?"


    "The stories I have heard of your wondrous beauty are far short of the reality," said Tanith. "I''m certain that many jealous of you have sought to demonize you in vain."


    The medusa was drawing very near. In a few moments, she would come around the corner. Tanith moved to another pillar and hid behind that.


    "Stay still..." said Medusald. "Everyone who has ever looked at me since I became this has been turned to stone, don''t you? You lie very well, but I know you''re only doing it to get nearer to me.


    "Why else would you have come here with a drawn sword?"


    Tanith smiled. "Far from it. The radiance of your appearance is as the light of the world. Were you to walk beneath the open air, the sun itself would fade in comparison."


    "Go on," said Medusald, sounding pleased.


    Tanith bit her lip. "...Truth be told, I''m out of lines. I''m not here to kill you."


    "And what else could bring you to this place?" asked Medusald.


    "A friend of mine has been transformed into a bull and kidnapped by Herus," said Tanith with a shrug. "It all happened very quickly."


    There was hissing laughter as the snake women halted. "Well, that puts us at cross purposes. Who are you, and where have you come from?"


    "I am Tanith Telus of Haldren," said Tanith. "I''ve traveled far and won many battles. Who were you before you became this?"


    The medusa halted, and her expression became suspicion. "A priestess of Zeya, of course. Though I doubt much else is known about me now. I had two brothers and a sister. My parents were very proud of me. I sacrificed animals at the altar of Zeya and lived to serve her.


    "Then the Fish King met me, and I became... this. However, Herus has promised to break Zeya''s curse if I keep your friend here until his death. I can be free of this... form."


    If that curse got broken, the whole plan was ruined. Also, William would be dead, so that was bad too. "Is that really so appealing?"


    "Why wouldn''t it?" asked Medusald. "For a hundred years, I have been unable to interact with anyone or anything without turning them to stone. Amazons have continually come against me, seeking to slay me to prove their worth, and I am tired of it."


    "And what are your plans?" asked Tanith. "Once you''re returned to your old form?"


    "I''m not really sure," admitted Medusald. "I don''t age like this. I may wither up and die. Or I may simply have to pick up where I left off. My family is all very old if they aren''t all dead."


    "Wouldn''t it be better to have the ability to control your stone gaze?" Asked Tanith.


    "What do you mean?" asked Medusald.


    "You might not believe me, but I find you beautiful, Medusald," said Tanith. "I wish I could look at you with my own eyes. Imagine if you could still turn people to stone, but could control the power itself. If you didn''t have to worry about using it by accident, it could be very powerful. And you wouldn''t have to worry about dying of old age since you''d keep your eternal youth."


    "You really mean that, I think," said Medusald in a quiet voice. "Your voice isn''t as insincere as it was before. I spent weeks learning how to move in this form. If I were returned to how I was, I''d have to learn how to walk again. I suppose I might ask Herus for a change of contract." She drew a bit nearer near enough. "However, that is neither here nor there. You''ve given me something to think about. So I will grant you this once chance: Leave now and never return, and I will allow you to live."


    "Sounds like a fair deal," said Tanith. She took one more look to make sure she knew where Medusald was. Then she closed her eyes. "Here''s mine."


    She stepped around the corner and brought around the flat of her blade. She struck something and heard a hissing noise. There was a crash as something hit the ground. Tanith threw aside her sword and followed the sound to grab for her throat.


    She ended up missing her target and instead hit the snake-woman''s shoulder. She tumbled over her and slammed face-first into something soft but firm. She tried to reach for the woman''s throat. However, before she could, the snake tail came up and wrapped around her arms, forcing them to her side. She could hear Medusald hissing, her hot breath against her neck. The sensation of the coils wrapping around her waist was a pleasurable sensation. But she knew it would turn lethal.


    Medusald gripped her by the face, grabbing her eyelids. "You had your chance. Now open your eyes. I''d love to add you to my collection. I don''t usually get women of your-."


    Tanith leaned in and kissed her. She forced her tongue into the medusa''s mouth. The inside of her mouth was different from most of Tanith''s slaves. And she tasted a bit different. Either way, the effort did its job. The coils loosened, and Tanith had her chance.


    Bringing up her arms, she gripped Medusald by the head and smashed her against the pillar twice. Medusald slouched and fell forward onto the ground. Tanith kneeled by her and checked her pulse. Good. She was still alive. Tanith hadn''t wanted to kill her. She pulled off her cloak and threw it over Medusald''s face. Then she stood up and opened her eyes.


    "Okay, now to find William," said Tanith.


    She picked up her sword and sheathed it. Walking deeper into the statue filled room, she found a back room. Within it, she found an enclosure filled with straw. There, tied to a wall by a golden rope, was a golden bull. It had a jagged scar over its left eye.


    "William, is that you?" asked Tanith as she came forward.


    The bull made a sound and pulled upon its harness. Tanith drew her sword and got behind the bull. She brought down the blade she struck the rope. It held firm, and her sword bounced off. Bringing down her blade a second time it frayed. A will was set against her, demanding she leaves and never return. But Tanith was never one to listen. A third blow cut full through the rope.


    "Great," said Tanith. "Come on, William. Don''t look at the medusa on your way out; her face will turn you to stone."


    She led William quickly out of the shrine and into the light. Outside she found Felix sitting upon the beach. His red sword was placed over his knees, and he was sketching pictures in the sand with a stick. He looked up. "Oh, you''re back. Good. William, is that you?"


    The bull nodded.


    Zeya appeared in a flash. "Finally, it is done. Now I will remove the spell at once." She raised a hand, and it glowed.


    The bull shifted and became writhed in light. That light then took on the form of a human. Then William was standing before them in full battle armor. He glared at Zeya silently. "Give me one reason I shouldn''t cut your head from your shoulders right now."


    Zeya met his gaze with pride. "Ingratitude suits no one, young Gabriel. I have saved you-"


    "From a danger which you put me in in the first place! After-" he struggled to speak.


    "I did not know your lineage when I made my advances," said Zeya.


    "Oh, you didn''t know my lineage," said William. "Well, that certainly means absolutely nothing!" And his hand went for his sword.


    Tanith caught him. "William, calm down. She''s our only way home."


    William remained silent, looking between her, then Felix, then Zeya. "Very well. Thank you, Tanith, for rescuing me from that dungeon. Do you have a means of escape?"


    "Yes. Zeya," said Tanith.


    "I see," said William.


    He turned away.


    Tanith didn''t see what he was so upset about. Gods did this kind of thing all the time. Anyway, he probably would have enjoyed it. It didn''t really matter either way. "Zeya, about my wish."


    Zeya looked further annoyed. "Yes, what is your desire?"


    "I want you to make it so that Medusald can control whether she turns people to stone when she looks at them," said Tanith. She supposed she could have wished for something else. But Tanith sort of felt sorry for Medusald and she didn''t envy her the headache she''d have.


    Zeya looked stunned. "You mean you didn''t kill her?"


    "No, I hit her with the flat of my blade and knocked her unconscious," said Tanith. "Now, are you going to grant my wish or not?"


    "You should kill her," said Zeya. "When she dies, the curse on all those turned to stone will be broken. Otherwise, they will remain trapped forever."


    "That''s not my problem," said Tanith.


    "...Are you sure you don''t wish for me to return those within to flesh from the stone?" asked Zeya. "Many of them were valiant warriors. And they were sent here to achieve your task before you."


    So, the truth came out, Zeya wanted to use Tanith as her personal hitman. Why hadn''t she just tossed a lightning bolt at Medusald to begin with anyway? Well, Zeya was the Goddess of Heroes, maybe she set Medusald up as the victim of a heroic narrative. What was a hero without monsters to slay, after all?


    That was really sick, actually. "Sure, if you''ll do that alongside my request for Medusald," said Tanith. "As long as they aren''t allowed to hurt her."


    "You''re making three wishes now," said Zeya.


    "If you don''t want to restore those women to flesh, that''s your choice," said Tanith. "I''m only interested in the medusa and her safety. The statues in there aren''t my responsibility. She turned them to stone when they were trying to kill her, fair and square. And I didn''t ask them to come here, you did."


    "But surely you would have suffered their fate if you had failed," said Zeya.


    "But I didn''t fail, so we have nothing in common," said Tanith. Then she thought maybe she could wish the women in there be returned to flesh as her obedient slaves. However, Tanith decided that wouldn''t really be right.


    Besides, being able to control her stone gaze would help Medusald a lot. Much more than having a harem of obedient slavegirls would help Tanith. So, Tanith supposed she ought to take it.


    Zeya shifted and looked to the temple. "...Very well, then. I shall do as you wish and return the women to flesh as well. And I shall guarantee the safety of Medusald."


    Raising a hand, there was a shifting. Great, now Tanith could go back in there and finish what she started. Admittedly she''d have to seduce her, but it wouldn''t exactly be hard. Anyway, Medusald owed her now.


    Maybe Tanith could also learn a bit more about Themious from those women. This region of the world was a bit of a blind spot for her. That actually sounded a lot more fun than seducing Medusald. William liked history nearly as much as Tanith did, and she didn''t want to make him uncomfortable.


    Also, they could provide Medusald some much-needed protection on her way out. Tanith didn''t trust Zeya much.


    "It is done," said Zeya. "Now, I will transport us back."


    "No wait-" began Tanith too late.


    And they were gone.


    What a complete waste! This was a real chance to learn about another culture! And she didn''t even get to kill anything!

 Chapter Eleven: Ancient History

    Kiyora felt like she was being tossed and turned within a stormy sea. She saw a thousand worlds as she was thrown from one dream to another. And a thousand different futures. She felt as though she would be carried away and lost.


    Then she saw her world. The place she had grown up and lived all her life. Except now, it seemed more like a toy castle than a true world. Before her eyes, it began to fade. She reached out for it, but her fingertips passed through. Then, a wave washed against her, and she was washed away. She tried to fight against the current, but it was too strong. It was dragging her inexorably toward a predetermined future. And in that future, she beheld an elf but clad in black armor. Though why she had it baring her arms and legs was beyond Kiyora. Probably style points. Anyway, her skin was dark green, and her eyes flared yellow. Wings like those of a dragon were on either side of her back, and her hands were huge claws.


    Yet the alternative was... worse.


    Kiyora saw before her something or someone. It was a creature of the purest malice, cohesive yet at war with itself. Its tendrils reached across the universe, pulling upon the minds of every being at every time. Within its formless mass was undying torment and endless screams. And the elf before it alone was independent; she alone was free of corruption.


    She alone could purge it.


    She should probably lay off the drugs. Either way, her arms were limp and powerless. Her mind was drifting. Little by little, she was losing herself to one or the other. Who was she?


    She felt things. A desire for power. A plan to gain complete dominion over all things as was her destiny. Yet she could not remember her name. Wait, it was coming to her. Her name was...


    Arraxia. Was that it? It did not feel right.


    Of course, it did not feel right. Arraxia was but the name given to her magnificence in a vain attempt to explain her. It was her destiny to rise above all this. Rise and reign over all that could be and would be.


    This did not seem like her. But a will forced her down, and she thought like Arraxia. No, like herself. No...


    Then, there was a flaring of orange light from above. "Don''t let her control you, Kiyora," said a voice she remembered. "You are stronger than this. What you feel now is her trying to draw your will into her own.


    "But you are the stronger."


    The orange light came to her. And memories came rushing back. She was Kiyora Yagos, and she was herself.


    Before she was a familiar figure, clad in white garments, descending. With what strength remained to her, she reached out, and he grasped her hand. Then she was pulled up and came face to face with her rescuer. "Tenius?" Then she paused. "No, Ictargo. What is going on here?"


    "There is no time," said Ictargo. He drew her hand and pressed it against his chest. "Take my power. Take it before it is too late!"


    Orange light surged from his heart into hers. Suddenly, Kiyora felt stronger. Much stronger, and she could stay out of the currents by her own power. Rising out of them, she and Ictargo separated. Then, she found herself standing in the usual field of flowers. And Alchara was standing before her.


    Yet now Alchara was arrayed for battle. Her eyes were glowing gold. "What did you do? What was that?"


    Alchara said nothing at first. "Well, you''ve been busy."


    "Alchara, what the hell is going on?" asked Kiyora. "Why did the world start falling apart like that? And how is it connected to me?"


    "What makes you think it is connected to you?" asked Alchara.


    "I don''t know. Maybe because Emperor Ictargo showed up out of nowhere and gave me an injection of power," said Kiyora. Why was it she never told her anything? "I figured it had something to do with me. And another thing, I was talking with the Prince of Calisha. He said I was the reincarnation of someone called Queen Dreamer.


    "There is something you aren''t telling me, isn''t there?"


    Alchara sighed. "... I''d hoped not to explain this just yet. I wanted to wait until you were mature."


    "You aren''t my mother nor my mentor," snapped Kiyora. "I don''t even like you. Stop pontificating and tell me what the hell is going on."


    "No, you''re right," said Alchara. "You are my sister, and your will is bound to this world."


    That was the stupidest thing Kiyora had ever heard. "Uh, no, I''m not."


    Alchara said nothing.


    "Well?" said Kiyora.


    "Well, I would go into more detail, but that requires me to explain some ancient history," said Alchara. "And you''ve made it clear you don''t care about any of that so I won''t bother you."


    "We don''t have time for this!" said Kiyora.


    "This domain exists outside time and space," said Alchara. "We have all the time in the universe."


    "Okay," said Kiyora. "Fine."


    They waited, and Kiyora crossed her arms. Alchara remained silent. Finally, Kiyora''s patience was exhausted. "Oh, fine. What is the history?"


    Alchara smiled. "Long ago, when this universe was still being formed, there were three goddesses. I was the eldest, Laevian the middle and Dreamora, the youngest. We were meant to be the patron goddesses of the elves. Every race had its own God."


    "Let me guess. You screwed it up," said Kiyora.


    "There were complications," said Alchara. "You see, there were three races of elves. High Elves, who were mine, and I taught them to have a kinship and an ability to order things. The Dust Elves, who belonged to Laevian, created great land growth. Finally, there were Dreamer Elves who were the last to awaken and had a mastery over the spirit world."


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    "Hang on a sec," said Kiyora. "I''ve been paying attention all this time, and I know that the Dreamer Elves are a young race. Younger than humans."


    "Yes," said Alchara. "Because the satyrs completely wiped out the original Dreamer Elves. They slaughtered them all to the last child. As a result, Dremora became a minor goddess who helped us with our people.


    "For a time, things went well. Her skills allowed many things to flourish. But the High Elves never forgot what happened to their kin. Many became vengeful and hunted both humans and satyrs relentlessly. We were angry, and so we did not stop them."


    "I''m guessing this was how the whole cycle of revenge between human and elf started," said Kiyora.


    "You might say that," said Alchara. "As time passed, we did rein in our peoples, but the damage was done. The bitter seeds that the satyrs planted soon bore full fruit with the rise of Anoa the Butcher. He rampaged across the world of Erian and drove the High Elves near to extinction."


    "But there are other worlds with other high elves, aren''t there?" Asked Kiyora.


    "The worlds are all connected, Kiyora," said Alchara. "What happens in one affects the others. Every action by every mortal being has consequences that change the entire universe. And it did not stop with Anoa. For after his "ascension into heaven," a new enemy appeared. Melchious. And he went from world to world, sewing discord and causing mass carnage."


    "Wait a minute, Arraxia told William that Melchious was a satyr. One descended from Fortenex," said Kiyora.


    "Arraxia bent the truth to seem more important than she was," said Alchara. "One of his incarnations was born a satyr and ascended to become an extension of his will. The Vulture of Melchious."


    "So she was lying?" asked Kiyora.


    "Does she seem reliable to you?" asked Alchara. "She is nearly as arrogant and narcissistic as you are."


    "Good point," conceded Kiyora.


    "At any rate, Melchious actions set in motion a chain of events that nearly purged all High Elves. Not just on this world, but from all the worlds," said Alchara. "Laevian didn''t even care. She had already defected over to Elranor''s side rather than send help."


    "I knew she was evil," muttered Kiyora. "So how did they stop Melchious?"


    "A great hero named Ictargo confronted him and destroyed his avatar. Then Ictargo descended into hell and wounded him terribly," said Alchara. "It took Melchious many centuries to recover from the wounds he suffered. In that time, I was able to restore the High Elves.


    "However, the victory was at a terrible price. With my people''s slaughter, my power had diminished. And to such a point, I could no longer house all of them in my afterlife.


    "Dreamora came up with a solution. She would create a new world, attuned with the spirits of all worlds. There, the souls of those High Elves I could not house could be reincarnated. However, to do this, she had to disperse her consciousness throughout this world. The strain of it killed her. Only temporarily, of course. In time, her consciousness would be able to resurface and take form within that world."


    "So me," said Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Alchara.


    "And you didn''t want to tell me this because why?" asked Kiyora.


    "Because, well-intentioned or no, you are a spoiled brat who isn''t as smart as she thinks she is," said Alchara. "You are reckless; think you are always right. And you tend to judge people based on surface appearances.


    "If you are like this now, I shudder to comprehend what you would have been like with full knowledge of what you were."


    "Another good point," admitted Kiyora. "So how does this play into the world falling apart? And how does Calisha fit into all this."


    "You have been using a truly massive amount of power, Kiyora," said Alchara. "First to banish Laughing Wraith, then to drive him out of Laurus. And also rousing all the trees of the Iron Kingdom to liberate the place. All of these things have been done for a good cause, but they have weakened you badly.


    "To be honest, Melchious has been waging a war of attrition all this time. He was tempting you into repeatedly countering him until you exhausted yourself. Thus dooming us all.


    "And it has nearly worked. When you use your powers, you naturally sap away at the fabric, keeping this world intact. To make matters worse, you have an inherent connection to Arraxia. One forged through Baltoth''s Retribution. She has hardly used any of her power with the Void Stone. Yet with Axe of Fortenex, she has increased in strength exponentially.


    "Before Ictargo saved you, you were on the verge of falling into her domination."


    "You know what would have helped me not let this happen," said Kiyora. "Knowing all of this. Or some of this, for that matter."


    "It was a calculated risk," said Alchara. "If Arraxia hadn''t gotten the Void Stone, your investments in the world would have borne fruit. You would, in a few years, be far more powerful."


    "And who the hell are you to make calculated risks with my entire species?!" said Kiyora.


    "God," said Alchara flatly.


    "Oh no, you aren''t!" said Kiyora. "If you were the God you pretend to be, then you''d have known exactly how everything I did would turn out! You didn''t! Arraxia blindsided both of us!


    "But if I''d known that my miracles were endangering my world, I wouldn''t have cut back on them. I would have done a hard stop months ago and explained the situation to Bjorn. The Nakmar would have understood and probably made some extra sacrifices or something.


    "You should have told me about this!"


    "Perhaps I should have," said Alchara. "But it is the moot point at the moment. We must deal with the present situation."


    "Fine, so my world is the spirit world," mused Kiyora. "And William''s world is the real one."


    "Don''t be foolish," said Arraxia. "Reality is entirely subjective and varies based on individual experience. Especially your world. The only thing you can be truly sure of is that you exist."


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora. "So I should just do a hard stop to all miracles and do-gooding and give a full explanation as to why."


    "I would keep on playing the part of a Dream Sage," said Alchara.


    "Doesn''t that count as a miracle?" asked Kiyora.


    "No, because you are using the innate power to your mortal form," said Alchara. "As long as you don''t use the Dreaming Goddess''s power, it should be fine. Moreover, the barriers between the worlds have weakened. The defenses I have erected will need all the help they can get.


    "Eventually, you will regain enough of your power to continue as you have been."


    "Right, okay. What about Arraxia?" asked Kiyora. "Now, are you going to tell me what my relationship was to the Empire of Calisha or not?"


    "The quest to retrieve the Void Stone is just about to begin," said Alchara.


    "But what about-" began Kiyora.


    "Baltoth was in love with you," snapped Alchara. "When Valranor threw his weight around, you played on Baltoth''s pride. You set them against one another. Calisha was the alias you used when meeting with him. He named his country after who he thought you were. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Actually, I have an idea."


    "What is it?" asked Kiyora.


    "If you take on a mortal form again in Seathorius for the quest. It would decrease the power you spend in your dreams," said Alchara.


    "But what good could I be to anyone without my powers?" asked Kiyora.


    "You have one that could be of great service and will cost us nothing," said Alchara.


    "And what''s that?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, for think for a moment, Kiyora!" said Alchara. "You share an innate connection with Arraxia. And Arraxia''s will extends outwards to all her subjects. Using that connection, you may easily locate where she and her servants are."


    "Oh, right," said Kiyora. "Good idea. Okay, I''ll do it."


    "You are very quick to agree to things," noted Alchara.


    "Well, the way I see it, Arraxia is using the Void Stone to cause all kinds of trouble," said Kiyora. "If I can stop her, then it''s a good thing."


    "I believe she is actually only practicing," said Alchara. "She wants to fully master the use of the stone before she tries waging any wars of conquest with it. If she made use of the full potential of the Void Stone and the Axe of Fortenex, very few could stand against her."


    "Well, that''s decided," said Kiyora. "When do I start?"


    "Right now would be appropriate," said Alchara. "The faster we get rid of the Void Stone, the better. Your suggestion that we organize a quest ahead of time was one of the few good decisions you''ve ever made."


    The field faded, and Kiyora found herself standing before Queen Dawn. She felt that same sensation. The one she''d felt when she woke up after looking into Laevian''s mirror. She''d taken on mortal form again. She could feel the ground beneath her feet and the common pains she was spared as a goddess. But she hadn''t tried to do it.


    As if it had been done for her.


    Queen Dawn was signing documentation at a desk. She looked up. "Those going on the quest are waiting outside." She said. Then she rang a bell on her desk.


    The door opened, and the company walked in.

 Chapter Twelve: Three Companions

    There were three of them, as Dawn had said before.


    The first elf Kiyora had met once before. He had thin cheeks and white hair. His cloak was brown, and he wore no armor. However, at his side was a simple but elegant sword. When he saw Kiyora, his eyes narrowed at once.


    The second was Twilus, now dressed in travel clothes. She had at her side a small knife, and she was looking around with curious eyes. Her hand was scratching the third member of the quest behind the ears.


    The third member was a huge gray wolf. Its tongue was hanging out, and it was panting happily.


    "Twilus, Evensen, I have found the third member of your company," said Dawn.


    "I thought the third member of our company was Snooky," said Twilus.


    What kind of name was Snooky?


    "...The fourth member of our company" said Dawn. "This is Kiyora Yagos. The Dreaming Goddesses mortal avatar. She has come to aid you in your quest."


    "Why?" asked Evensen. "She is half responsible for this in the first place."


    "Realpolitik," said Kiyora with a shrug.


    Dawn glared at her.


    "By which I mean that Arraxia has gone mad and must be stopped for the betterment of all who live," Kiyora amended.


    "I liked your first answer better," said Evensen. "I actually believed it."


    "Good," said Kiyora. "Because she''s been causing all kinds of havoc back home, and I need to get that stupid rock out of her hands."


    "You should know, Evensen, that it was Kiyora who told us of the Void Stone in the first place," said Queen Dawn. "Without her, we may well have learned of it when she unleashed an army of undead upon us."


    "Wow, that was really nice of you," said Twilus.


    "How long do we have?" asked Evensen.


    "Well, judging from past records, I estimate that we have, perhaps, two or three weeks," said Dawn.


    "Past records?" asked Kiyora.


    "My records on how long it takes to use powerful artifacts. I have gotten into the habit of keeping extensive records," said Dawn. "Knowledge is power. And since my race is always outnumbered, I need all the power I can get." She paused. "Of course, my records merely record how long until Arraxia can fully wield the power of the Void Stone. "She may get overconfident-"


    "She will," said Kiyora.


    "-and try to use it before she is ready," said Dawn.


    "She has," said Kiyora. "She''s been using my hometown as ground zero." She paused. "How do you not know this?"


    "I may be Alchara''s mortal avatar," said Dawn. "However, I only have those memories of hers that pertain to this world. Yours is not my concern."


    "Ah, right," said Kiyora.


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    "Now you had best set out immediately," said Dawn. "Kiyora, you should use your powers sparingly. It is better if you instead use your connection with the trees of this land to guide them."


    "Okay," said Kiyora. That sounded easy.


    "Then prepare yourselves. The time has come," said Dawn. "You three have each taken up this quest of your own free will. Come back with the Void Stone, or not at all.


    "Evensen, you are to be the leader of this expedition. Lead them well."


    "I shall, Queen Dawn," said Evensen, voice hard. "I promise you I will not stand before you again until I have the Void Stone in hand."


    Then Dawn raised a hand. Into it appeared a golden minstrels harp, well polished. It shone with an unworldly light and floated toward Twilus, who took it in hand.


    "Twilus, I give you the Goldenwood Harp," said Dawn. "It has the power within it to enhance your sorcery. Use it sparingly. For its power can become a crutch. And return it when all is finished."


    "Right," said Twilus, "I''ll bring it right back, Queen Dawn."


    Dawn looked to Kiyora. "Kiyora... don''t screw this up."


    "Yeah, I hate you too," said Kiyora.


    The other two looked at Kiyora in shock. "What? I''m a goddess in mortal form. I''m allowed to sass her."


    "All that in mind, get going. Now," said Dawn.


    Evensen led them out of the office. Kiyora followed behind him and Twilus, hands in her pockets. The wolf, Snooky, sniffed at her as she walked, then growled.


    "Go bother someone else," Said Kiyora.


    Snooky ran up to Twilus.


    The group made their way through a series of halls. As they did, Kiyora noticed a number of elves speaking in the halls. One of them pointed at Evensen and whispered something to his compatriots. Whatever it was, it got a round of laughter. Evensen''s hand went to his sword before he let go and looked away.


    They soon got out of the halls and scaled-down a winding stair. They still hadn''t installed handrailings. Making their way down, Evensen brought them to the river. There, tied to a pier, was a boat with several packs and other supplies in it. Evensen began untying the ship.


    "So why exactly did Dawn choose you two?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh me?" said Twilus. "Well, I''ve been her student for years and years, and I wanted to go on adventures and become a great hero. Do you think we''ll run into any dragons on our way through? Oh, I''d love to talk to a dragon. Maybe he''ll have a memory of the elder days like Queen Dawn."


    "I''ve been a goddess of Seathorius for hundreds of years," said Kiyora. "I''ve never heard of any dragons here. My guess is they all died out in these parts."


    "Not true," said Twilus. "There might be some society of ancient dragons. Maybe they have survived for millennia in absolute secrecy. And we''ll stumble across them and be able to convince them to come out and join in the worship of Alchara."


    "I think I see why Queen Dawn assigned you this mission," said Kiyora. If she had to put up with this daily, she''d arrange a suicide mission too.


    "We should travel north as quickly as possible, Twilus," said Evensen. "I''ve had my birds scour the region since my defeat. Baltoth''s Retribution seems to always be near the northern border. We should go into Artarq then backtrack toward the fortress."


    "Why not go straight there?" asked Kiyora.


    "Because the demoness Arraxia will be watching the south and the east," said Evensen in irritation. "Artarq she regards as a secure border so that it will be less well defended. I would think you would know this since you were her ally."


    "Look, if we go east, we can meet up with the Nakmar," said Kiyora. "They''ll be able to give us better directions. And anyway I don''t know the trees to the north as well as the ones here. They won''t be as much help."


    "Can you not command them?" asked Evensen.


    "I''d love to. Unfortunately, somebody tried invading me," said Kiyora. "So, I''m a bit low on power."


    "I think Kiyora''s way is best, Evensen," said Twilus.


    "Why?" asked Evensen.


    "Well, both have risks and benefits," said Twilus. "But Kiyora''s way will be faster. Right, Snooky."


    Snooky barked. What kind of wolf barked?


    "Yes, that''s right," said Twilus. "Who''s a good boy. Also, we''ll be able to talk with the Nakmar and learn about their culture."


    "Whatever the case," said Evensen, "north of here lies a satyr village. I want to be a way north of it before we go to shore."


    "But the satyrs haven''t ambushed anyone in months and months," said Twilus. "Not since Duke Vanion brooked a peace between Arraxia and Antion."


    "I still don''t want to be seen by them," said Evensen. "Arraxia has many spies."


    "Oh, we''ll be seen. Count on it," said Kiyora. "Which is why we should go to the Nakmar."


    "Explain," said Eversen.


    "The Nakmar have huge tunnels reaching all over the inside of the earth," said Kiyora. "If we go to one of them, we could get pretty close to Baltoth''s Retribution without having to worry about being seen. If Arraxia notices us, we can say we''re emissaries negotiating trade deals or something.


    "After all, if we were plotting against her, why would we appear so obviously before her?"


    "Actually, that''s a good idea," said Twilus.


    "Very well," said Evensen. "We''ll put to shore at the satyr village. However, I expect our boat will be stolen in the process. And even if it isn''t, we won''t be able to escape the same way with the Void Stone in hand."


    They untied the boat. Then they began to row it north. The current was against them, and it was constant work going against it. As Kiyora watched Twilus and Evensen work at it, something occurred. "You never really answered my question, Evensen. Why did Dawn choose you?"


    "Because I have nothing to lose," snapped Evensen. "My entire army was defeated without inflicting a single casualty on my enemies. Our arms were taken from us, as was the standard. My family has all but disowned me, my friends have forgotten me, and my career is over.


    "If I succeed at this, I may regain some measure of honor. If I fail, I lose nothing." sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Kiyora almost felt sorry for him. Then she remembered that Alchara had planned to commit genocide against the satyrs. All of a sudden, that sympathy magically went away. "Well, you weren''t a very good commander anyway. Probably for the best."


    "That''s a bit mean," said Twilus.


    "No, seriously," said Kiyora. "He just sort of rushed into the woods with no plan. Sure Arraxia and I can manipulate the layout of the land. But even if we hadn''t, we probably could have destroyed his army. We would have lost a few people, but it would have been easy.


    "If he''d been any good as a commander, we wouldn''t have beaten him that easily. And anyway, if he had won, he would have killed all the satyrs, down to the last child. Alchara was planning a genocide. Frankly, you guys got off lightly."


    "But satyrs are always evil," said Twilus.


    "Right," said Kiyora, "which is why they have a working truce with Duke Vanion. And why they make a killing selling their wines to foreign countries."


    Eversen glared daggers at her, and Kiyora glared right back. Snooky yawned and rolled over on his belly. This battle of wills continued for some hours. Until at last, they came within sight of the satyr village.


    Time to put Kiyora''s acting skills to the test.

 Chapter Thirteen: Satyr Beliefs

    The satyr village was nothing like the one Kiyora had rescued William from. It had been built of stone instead of wood. A large wall was under construction around the perimeter. Satyr archers could be seen on top of it, their bows bent and trained on the boat as Evensen rowed them toward it.


    The water was serene as always, and the plants and chirping of colorful birds were very nice. Kiyora wondered if any dangerous monsters were waiting out there. Leaning back in the boat, she saw Twilight checking the strings of her harp. She cared for her harp as William did, but she seemed to enjoy it more. For William, it was like polishing his armor.


    As they pulled into the pier, a massive white-furred satyr came forward with a group of guards. He wore two scimitars, including one of elvish origin. The elvish blade looked like an officer''s sword with elegant designs. When Evensen saw it, his eyes narrowed, and his hand clenched around his sword.


    Twilus stopped him from drawing it. Her hand clasped around his before he could move.


    "You, hold where you are." said the white satyr. "Who are you who intrudes upon the territory of Doltier?" Then he saw Kiyora. "Oh no. Not you again."


    Now Kiyora remembered him. This was that satyr who was always hanging around Arraxia. He was like her... butler or bodyguard or something to that effect. Hadn''t he attacked Felix and William when they were crossing the Haldrenian straight? Wait, did that mean he''d survived a fight with Raynald and Rusara? He''s got to be a lot stronger than Kiyora thought. "Nice to see you too, Doltier. I''m taking these two emissaries of Qor'' dana to my high priest, Bjorn. We are to discuss business."


    "And why are you landing here?" asked Doltier. His gaze was on them with obvious suspicion, and Kiyora couldn''t blame him. You couldn''t trust anyone these days.


    "Well, I figured you might want to know why we are here," said Kiyora. "So we all understand that these people are under my protection and are not a threat to your people. Also, I''d like to request leave to walk across your land."


    "You never asked leave before," noted Doltier.


    "Well, there is always a first time," said Kiyora.


    Doltier held her in his gaze. Finally, he shrugged. "So be it," He looked to a black female satyr with a staff. "Sadira lead these three to the border."


    "Hang on a sec," said Kiyora, raising a hand. "I remember you. Didn''t you used to command Doltier?" That was right; she''d planned to ransom William to Vanion and kill Felix. At least until Kiyora had sprung, William and Felix had burned her village down.


    Bad luck.


    "Yes," said Sadira.


    "That was when Melchious ruled," said Doltier. "Now I rule the satyrs in Arraxia''s name."


    "Wow, nice work," said Kiyora. "You''ve gone from bodyguard to King. Pretty quick promotion."


    "I was always more than a bodyguard," snapped Doltier.


    No doubt history would say so.


    "They have some powerful artifacts," said Sadira. "We should eat them."


    "I give orders according to Arraxia''s will. And Arraxia commands that the truce continue," said Doltier. "Now obey, or the children of the village will feast on you instead of sheep for the next festival!"


    "Doltier, merchant vessels are approaching." said a satyr.


    Doltier looked up, then breathed out in relief. Obviously he''d been waiting for this a long time. "Finally. Get together the wine. We''ll make them pay a pretty penny for their luxuries." He looked back to Kiyora. "You, get out of my sight, all of you."


    Eversen glowered at him but turned and followed Sadira without a word. Kiyora walked onward, just glad to be getting out in one piece. "So why so angry about Doltier?" she asked. "Did he steal your ancestral weapon?"


    "Yes," said Eversen. "That blade was my grandfather''s and his grandfather''s before. It dates back to long before the fall of Qaladash, the last great elven realm. Of which Qur''dana was only a colony.


    "To have been held by a satyr is a humiliation to my house."


    "Wow, tough break." said Kiyora. "Maybe you''ll be able to get it back later." She looked back to the fast flowing river and decided to enjoy it. Who knew when they''d get another chance.


    "He would die in the attempt," said Sadira. "Doltier is the greatest warrior of all the tribes." Her voice was proud.


    Kiyora wondered why no one else seemed to appreciate nature. Maybe it was because she lived in safe and urban environments. At the same time, they lived in the wilds. Twilight followed her gaze and seemed to appreciate it as well.


    "I don''t understand why anyone would buy wine from satyrs," said Twilight.


    "Well, it is the best," said Kiyora. "Satyrs are as good at making wine as dwarves are at making weapons and mining."


    "We aren''t just the best," snapped Sadira. "We invented wine. And beer. The dwarves just got a taste for it. Now come quickly. I''ll lead you to the nearest Nakmar settlement we know of." And she led them into the woods. Kiyora made contact with the minds of the trees and asked them to guide their trail.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Thus, they walked quickly through the trees. The path they took was swift and sure, and the brambles made no attempt to stop them. The birds were singing, and some of the flowers they saw weren''t carnivorous. It was an oddly beautiful and safe journey, and Kiyora had the feeling she wouldn''t get it again. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I thought Nakmar hid the doors to their settlements," said Twilight.


    "They do," said Kiyora, realizing she was the guide here. Not them. "But they also have passages they keep out in the open to trade with surface dwellers in times of peace. Each passage is built so it can be collapsed. It was my idea, actually.


    "Even if you know where something is, it doesn''t mean you can find it.


    "Remember when you tried to invade us?"


    "Yes," said Eversen. "All too well."


    Kiyora had completely crushed that guy. No casualties were inflicted or taken, mostly because Doltier let him go out of pity. Or because Arraxia ordered it; either way, it was good. Qor''Danas had never lived down the humiliation. But if the High Elves wanted a good reputation, they shouldn''t have tried to commit genocide.


    "Right," said Kiyora. "All I had to do was keep shifting the land so that no matter where you walked, you went nowhere. Eventually, you ran out of food, and I got you to surrender."


    "And we didn''t get any food from it," said Sadira.


    "Oh, quit whining," said Kiyora. "The world didn''t end just because you didn''t get to cannibalize your enemies."


    "That is the problem," said Sadira. "When we devour one of our enemies, their lifeforce goes to the great and nameless satyr god. Even now, he is forming in the depths of hell. With every person we devour, he grows stronger.


    "One day, when he has grown strong enough, he will awaken with a new name. Then he will devour all the universe in blood and horror."


    "Oh," said Kiyora. "Um, wasn''t Melchious your god?"


    "He was the one who revealed the truth to us," said Sadira. "We offered him prayers because the satyr god has not yet awakened. When he does, our worship will shift to him."


    "So how does Arraxia fit into this?" asked Kiyora.


    "Power by nature belongs to those strong enough to hold it," said Sadira. "Melchious has been overthrown. Since Arraxia has proved, the stronger we will worship her until such a time as he reclaims his domain."


    "But why would you ever worship something so vile?" asked Twilus.


    "All things kill and die," said Sadira. "For one to live, another must die. The hunter must kill animals for his family to eat. The farmer who reaps a harvest must first end the lives of the plants he grows. The Lord must slaughter his enemies to keep his people''s loyalty.


    "Melchious kills with every word he speaks. Thus, he is our God."


    "Okay," said Kiyora, "so why do you want this satyr god to devour everything?"


    "Because we don''t like you very much," said Sadira.


    "Me in particular?" asked Kiyora. "Or non-satyrs in general."


    "Yes," said Sadira.


    "Still convinced these creatures shouldn''t be purged?" asked Evensen.


    "Of course," said Kiyora. "At least they have an ideology. They aren''t doing this for no reason.


    That means they can be reasoned with."


    "Don''t count on it," said Sadira. "We should have slaughtered this fool and all his soldiers after they invaded."


    "If you''d killed the elves, it would have caused all kinds of problems down the line," said Kiyora. "I''m sure they taste very good. But a light snack is not worth a political fiasco."


    "Do you have any idea how hard it is to get elf meat?" asked Sadira.


    "Can we change the subject?" asked Twilight.


    "Sure," said Kiyora.


    "Right," said Twilight, "um, why did you take mortal form?"


    "Eh, I was bored. Felt like having an adventure," lied Kiyora. "Nothing too elaborate about that."


    She didn''t want to show weakness, especially in front of a satyr.


    They traveled through the lands of Seathorius for several days. The roots at their feet were hard to walk over, and it was usually very dark. Kiyora somewhat enjoyed it at first. It was sort of like a hike. Of course, after the first day, it stopped being a hike and started getting unpleasant.


    At night, Sadira and Evensen would glare at each other. Twilus tried playing the harp and proved very adept at it. Then again, the Goldenwood Harp could make any combination of notes sound beautiful. Kiyora still remembered when William had had it.


    "Hey, um," began Twilight, "I was wondering if I could sing a song."


    "Alchara above, no!" said Kiyora.


    "You could," said Sadira. "If you''re all right with me cutting your throat."


    "Right, um, okay. That''s a no," said Twilight. "See, I thought that since Sadira explained some things about her culture, we ought to do the same."


    "Well, don''t sing," said Kiyora. "Tell a story or something."


    "I don''t care about your culture," said Sadira. "Or you, for that matter."


    "Ah," said Twilight. "Well, then I won''t bother you."


    The next morning, they pressed on and finally came to the side of a hill. Here, Sadira halted and tapped her staff twice against the ground. "Here we are."


    "I don''t see anything," said Evensen.


    "You don''t have to," said Kiyora, walking over to the hillside and banging on the rock. "Hang on a sec. Hey, open up in there! We''ve got emissaries of Queen Dawn!"


    There was silence for a moment. Then there was a low grinding noise as the side of the wall opened before them. King Wiglaf Houndslasher looked through, accompanied by guards. "Dreaming Goddess. You have retaken mortal form."


    "Long story. I''ll tell you later, Houndslasher," said Kiyora. Then she looked at Sadira. "Thank you, Sadira, for taking us this far. Um, could you get her a waterskin or something? She''s been of some help."


    "I neither need nor want it," said Sadira before turning and stalking off.


    "... You''d best come in and explain what all this is about, Queen Yagos," said Houndslasher.


    "What were you doing so near this area?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''ve been expecting payment from the otters," said Houndslasher. We''ve also received our share of the treasure from pilgrims. The mirror of Laevian has become very popular."


    "Oh good," said Kiyora. Then she looked back at the others. "Both of you follow me."


    They walked through. As they did, Twilus hit her head on the top of the wall. "Ow."


    "Oh, and watch your head," said Kiyora. "These tunnels were made for dwarves."


    Snooky sniffed suspiciously at the tunnels. It took a lot of coaxing to get him to follow them in.


    Kiyora was really starting to hate that wolf.

 Chapter Fourteen: Hospitality Violated

    William and his friends got back to Estal near midnight. They made their way into the port and found Eitrigg praying near the guard post. He opened his eyes as they approached. "Ah, William Gabriel. We had wondered where you had gone."


    "I have no intention of discussing the matter," said William, not caring if it was harsh. "I''ll write it down in my next book." Perhaps. He didn''t even want to think about it.


    Tanith shrugged. "It wasn''t that bad. Medusald was easy on the eyes. And Zeya was-"


    "We''re not discussing it," snapped William.


    "Ah," said Eitrigg, "well, you''ll be happy to know that Princess Cassandra''s return may well be arranged. There were concessions and gifts on both sides. Still, we were concerned for you and your companions. We almost sent out search parties."


    "It could not be helped, Eitrigg," said Tanith with a smirk. "The gods work in mysterious ways."


    "Nothing mysterious about it," muttered William before stalking past him.


    "Where is King Estal now?" asked Tanith as they hurried to catch up.


    "I''m Meeting with the Cyclops king," said Eitrigg. "This is the first time they have met together, so it is a great occasion. The location is on neutral ground, near the border. They chose the very orchard where the first skirmish took place."


    "Very poetic," said William.


    "You seem in a very foul mood," said Eitrigg.


    "Being transformed into a bull after nearly being raped can do that to a man," said William.


    "What?" said Eitrigg. "Just what has been going on here?"


    "I told you I''m not talking about it," said William. "Come on, Tanith, Felix, let''s get something to eat."


    "Actually, about that, you might want to hold off on that," said Eitrigg.


    "Why would I do that?" asked William.


    "Prince Aris is coming back," said Eitrigg. "His ship was seen coming into the harbor a few minutes ago."


    "Right, come on, William," said Tanith. "Let''s go to meet him."


    "Are you sure we''ll even be allowed?" asked Felix.


    "Aris is one of my friends," said Tanith. "He, Eitrigg, and I raided Calishan shipping together."


    "No doubt, there will be a great banquet to celebrate his return," said Eitrigg.


    William followed them without a word. As they walked, he found himself remembering the way he had been forced down. The feel of her hands running over him. Nothing he''d been able to do could stop it.


    The humiliation that followed had been no better. And she had expected him to be grateful! As if the armed robber who, after throwing a man in prison for a week, expects thanks for not taking his victim''s life. For the first time in his life, William appreciated where the Iron Kingdom was coming from.


    How could Mother worship such a monster?


    "William, you could try cheering up," said Tanith. You''re about to be made a knight¡ªor at least you probably will be if the negotiations work out."


    "Wonderful," hissed William.


    Tanith had been anything but sympathetic. She seemed to think that because Zeya was attractive, William should be glad of her actions. The fact that he had been unwilling and her distant descendant was not relevant to her.


    Her main disappointment was that she hadn''t been allowed to get her way with the medusa. One would think the possibility of being turned to stone would have driven the lust from her mind.


    It had not been a pleasant journey.


    "Do you want to talk about things?" asked Felix.


    "No," said William.


    "Neither do I," admitted Felix. "This was all very surreal."


    "I am not impressed with Mother''s goddess," said William. Then he remembered Herus. Where the hell did that spiteful bastard get off punishing him? It wasn''t William''s fault Herus couldn''t keep control of his wife. "Or her pantheon for that matter."


    "Gods do what they like," said Felix. "It''s just Harlenor''s good luck that your god likes goodness. Zeya is more interested in doing whatever she feels like."


    "I noticed," said William.


    Eitrigg brought them to the pier. There, they saw Aris'' ship. It was a magnificent vessel of significant size. At its head was the figurehead of a lion. And yet William sensed something. Something that somehow was dear to his heart even though he''d never seen or felt it before. He was in no mood for the sensation.


    "There is Prince Aris'' ship," said Eitrigg.


    "I sense something. A presence," said William.


    "Will you stop worrying, William," said Tanith. "Nothing is going to happen here."


    "Tanith is right. Something could have already happened, which has ruined everything," muttered Felix. He was suddenly furious. Had he sensed it? Had he recognized it?


    "You''re not helping, Felix," said Tanith.


    "I''m not trying to," said Felix.


    "Fine, shut up," said Tanith. "I haven''t seen Aris in years."


    Off the ship came Prince Aris, a very impressive man in terms of physique. He wore a bow over one shoulder, and he walked in quick steps. With him slithered a figure clad in brown robes. The figure radiated an incorruptible purity. Just looking at her, even shrouded in a cloak, made William''s heart jump. He suddenly desired to hold whatever creature was before her.


    Once again, he had encountered a supernatural horror with designs on his soul. He wondered what this one looked like.


    "Aris!" called Tanith as she rushed up to him.


    "Tanith?" Aris blinked as he saw her. "Tanith, what the blazes are you doing here?"


    Tanith stretched. "The usual sort of chance storm. We''ve had quite a few adventures since last we talked."


    "I''ve had some of my own," said Aris. "How is Lord Marn?"


    "Well enough," said Tanith, becoming a bit less happy. "Last I heard he''s trying to fix his reputation." There was anger there in her tone. Tanith had not parted amicably with her old mentor. "Actually, about that, this is William Gabriel. A soon-to-be knight of Harlenor." She motioned to William.


    "William Gabriel?" said Aris. "What is your family doing here if you don''t mind me asking?"


    "Having adventures," said William, trying to be courteous. "Our ship was blown off course by a sudden gust of wind. Then the wind just stopped, and we were trapped here. Still, I''ve managed to put myself to some moderate use. I hope." He looked out at the ocean.


    "Is something wrong?" asked Aris.


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    "I''m sorry, William is a bit distant right now," said Tanith. "He''s had some strange experiences, and he''s still recovering." Then she motioned to Felix. "This is Felix. He''s a Calishan, but he''s on our side."


    Aris said nothing. But the figure moved forward, put her hands together, and bowed. "Greetings to you, noble prince."


    William looked to Felix. And he almost stepped away from him. Felix was standing very still. His eyes were cold and filled with silent fury. There seemed an inner light behind them. William felt afraid, suddenly, and he did not know why.


    "And greetings to you, Princess Safara," said Felix, voice filled with wrath and courtesy. "May I ask what matter of state has brought you so far from Calisha? Where is your noble husband? Has he taken ill and must stay below decks?"


    "Safara?" asked William. "You know her?"


    "The wife of Prince Baelgost," said Felix. "I saw her while she was going to be wedded."


    "I have come off my own volition to fulfill my desires, Felix," said Safara. "My husband is not here."


    "I hope you left a note," said Felix. "He must be anxious to know where you are."


    "Watch your tone with her, Calishan," said Aris, voice angry. "You are in my Kingdom."


    Felix smiled and looked upon Aris with levity. Yet his anger only seemed to increase. There almost seemed a will behind Felix. It was a power that radiated to leave the world bathed in a furious light. Aris stepped back. "Yes, and until recently, you were in the Kingdom of Baltoth putting the final seal upon a truce. How then is it that you have come to this place with another man''s wife?" He nearly shouted the last word.


    Fear. William was afraid of Felix. And so was everyone else. Even Aris seemed stunned. He had to take control of this situation. Now. Suddenly, he saw Felix, not a friend and trusted servant, but as some demon poised to strike. Fear became anger, and his hand lashed out before he could stop himself.


    He watched as his gauntleted hand hit Felix across the cheek. The boy, his friend, reeled and fell downward to hit the ground. "Silence!" he heard himself roaring. "Felix, you are embarrassing me!" He turned to Aris and bowed. "I apologize for his words. Forgive him; he is usually more intelligent than this. However, we''ve borne witness to... horrible things. The strain has taken its toll on us."


    Aris seemed to recover somewhat. The light, if it had ever been there, was gone. He regained himself. "No. It is a matter that requires some explanation. Safara was wedded to her brother without consent. It was an unnatural union, made worse by it being loveless. Her husband neglected her. So she has left him."


    "Aris is correct," said Safara. "I am tired of being the trophy wife of a man who cares nothing for me. I love him. As he loves me."


    Oh, Elranor above Aris had kidnapped Baltoth''s daughter. "Well, that makes all the difference, doesn''t it?" said William, trying to contain his horror. Felix had been right.


    And he had struck him.


    William had never struck Felix until now. He could see his friend. His cheek was bleeding. What had he done?


    "You kidnapped Baelgost''s wife?" asked Tanith, voice sounding slightly worried.


    "I did not kidnap her, Tanith," said Aris. "I rescued her."


    Tanith leaped into the air with a cheer and clapped William on the back. "This is great! The entire Calishan navy is going to descend on this island to try and wipe us out! We''ll have a huge battle, the likes of which haven''t been seen in years!


    "William, you''ll finally get the chance to fight Calishans!"


    "Your joy is disturbing, Tanith," said William.


    "Oh, come on. I''ve wanted to be involved in a real war my whole life!" said Tanith. "Not a raid or one of those decisive battles. I mean the real thing where entire civilizations are laid to waste, and whole cities put to the sword.


    "This is going to be so great. There will be rivers of blood flowing! And when we win, we''ll have killed thousands, tens of thousands of Calishans!"


    A chill wind blew through William''s hair. It was a relief. He hadn''t felt the wind in what seemed like years. Had it been only weeks? "...The wind is back."


    "What?" said Tanith.


    "The wind is back," said William. He needed to get off this island. "Felix, come with me; we''ll find Hrungeld at once. If you''ll excuse me, Prince Aris, I have business to attend to. I''ll leave you and Tanith to discuss the upcoming war."


    He pulled Felix up and dragged him off the pier. As they walked, William halted. Felix had stepped out of line. It was a miracle Aris hadn''t ordered him killed. He''d gotten too free. He couldn''t let the matter pass on this.


    He halted and turned to Felix. Putting a hand on Felix''s cheek, he healed the wound. Then he took him by the shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "Felix, you are my friend, and I love you like a brother. But don''t ever speak out of turn like that again. Do you understand? Aris could have had you executed! Even if I had managed to save you, it would have embarrassed House Gabriel!


    "It is a miracle things turned out as they did."


    "Yes," said Felix, looking down. "I apologize, milord. It won''t happen again."


    "Good," said William. "I''ll let the matter pass. Now let''s find Hrungeld."


    William felt guilty about what he had done. However, he''d had to do something to stop Felix, and he apologized. What else could he have done? Aris was the Prince of this place?


    They found Hrungeld. The area in-between passed in a blur. William wondered if Felix hadn''t led him through it. Everything seemed a blur. At last, they came before the minotaur. He looked up and waved.


    "Ah, master William!" said Hrungeld. "The wind is finally back. We can leave whenever you are ready. Though rumor has it, you may be knighted."


    "I''m afraid not," said William. This island is about to experience some very interesting times. I have no intention of being here when they happen."


    "Interesting times?" asked Hrungeld. "What do you mean?"


    "Prince Aris kidnapped a daughter of Baltoth," said William, " under the flag of truce. I think he meant to marry her."


    Hrungeld dropped the rope he was holding. "...Kreshlak above, does the man have a deathwish?!"


    "I can only assume," said William. "Get ready to leave. I''ll find Mother and Tanith, and we''ll get out of here at once."


    "I''ll do so immediately," said Hrungeld. "I''m glad you know when to back out."


    Tanith appeared. "William, where are you going?"


    "We''ve got to get off this island, Tanith," said William.


    "You can''t leave!" said Tanith. "What about your knighting?"


    "I''ll be glad to postpone it if it means we don''t all die horribly," said William.


    "When did you become such a coward?" snarled Tanith.


    "Coward?" asked William. "It is not bravery to fight a war that can''t be won, Tanith. It is folly. Calisha is the largest Empire in the world. It reaches over thousands of miles. It has demons, dragons, mortals, and all manner of other creatures serving it.


    "And Aris has just run off with a member of the Royal Family!


    "Estal has no allies. It is alone. My father won''t be able to hold back this. The city will fall. This entire region will become part of Calisha."


    "Unless we stop it," said Tanith.


    "Unless we stop it?" asked William. "And what is your brilliant strategy for doing so?"


    "Estal is a very defensible position, and the fortress is very strong," said Tanith. We can hold out for a long time here. A few brave men can hold off great armies if they have good ground, and we have that. Also, if we win enough, the other Harlenorian Kingdoms may get involved. We could turn the tide and make another truce, a better one."


    "Assuming everything goes well, which it won''t," snapped William. He looked at Felix, but Felix said nothing.


    "William is right. We should get out of here," said Hrungeld. "I, for one, will not stay here for that kind of war."


    "And what about the people?" asked Tanith. "Do you think the Calishans are going to show restraint with them? They''ll pillage and slaughter their way through our people and burn everything. You''re a paladin! Start acting like it!"


    William wanted to refuse. He wanted to leave, but he felt that he had to stay. There was a sudden sensation that he was needed here, that if he left now, everything would get worse.


    Worse.


    How could it get worse? A few months ago, he was getting to know his younger siblings. Then Kiyora had dragged him off to fight that stupid spider demoness. He''d been dragged to Viokinar, and so many people had died. All the people he''d met in the Iron Kingdom, good people who were only living as best they could, were now all dead.


    They were dead because of their leaders. It didn''t matter how good they were or that they were innocent. Their leader had been a monster, and they had paid the price.


    Now Estal was about to suffer the same fate. He knew he couldn''t leave. "...Damn you, Tanith. You don''t care at all about the people of Estal! This is just fun and games for you, but I''m not like you! I don''t want to kill or conquer anyone! I want to help people in most cases!


    "But right now, I don''t want to do anything but go home! Play with Soren and Calgora. Sink into a soft bed and not have to worry about dying. However, you''re right. I can''t leave like this. It wouldn''t be right." He sighed. "Captain Hrungeld, I would very much appreciate it if you could give me a quill and paper."


    Hrungeld provided him one, and William quickly wrote out a new letter. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Dear Raynald,


    We have a serious problem. Prince Aris of Calisha has probably just started a war with Calisha. As of my sending this letter, an armada of ships is likely on the way to conquer Estal. Ordinarily, I would leave. However, I cannot, in good conscience, abandon the people here, so I must help them defend themselves.


    Now read this twice: Don''t attack Calisha. Starting a two-front war will only escalate the situation. Instead, you should contact your family. If memory serves, they have some influence on Escor. See if you can get a fleet of Escorian ships to sail to Estal''s aid. Since they are not part of the truce, it will not be a violation for them to wage war on Calisha.


    Above all else, Antion must not start an all-out war with Calisha unless there is no other option. We need time to consolidate our gains in Khasmir and the Iron Kingdom.


    Hoping this finds you in good health,


    Your faithful student,


    William Gabriel,


    P.S:


    Give my regards to Soren and Calgora. Assuming you can.


    He finished the letter and offered it to Hrungeld. His good sense screamed for him to tear up the letter and leave the island to its fate. But he held it in place until Hrungeld took it. "Give this to Raynald. Now, shove off as quickly as you can. If the Calishans set out right after them, you''ll have a very small window of opportunity."


    "I understand, William," said Hrungeld. "I hope you survive. Even if you don''t, I expect things will be worthy of a song or two."


    William and Hrungeld parted ways. He watched the ship as it sailed away. Finally, he turned back to Felix and Tanith. "There. It''s done. Now what?"


    "Now we get ready for war," said Tanith with a smile.


    "Or we could convince King Estal to send Safara right back to Calisha. Complete with a letter of apology and gifts of compensation," said Felix, rubbing his cheek.


    William looked at him. "That is the sanest thing anyone has said all day. Let''s do it."

 Chapter Fifteen: Visions

    Within a guard room, Houndslasher gave them a chance to rest. Wine and fresh clothes were brought to them, and soon, they were all clad in the gray furs of the Nakmar. Evensen drank the wine carefully. Twilus drank freely.


    "Tell me, Dreaming Goddess," said the King, "what has happened? Why have you taken physical form?"


    "Oh, you know, I''m just planning the downfall of all my enemies," said Kiyora. "Listen, Wiglaf I need your help. These elves and I need to take these to Baltoth''s Retribution. What tunnel will take us closest?"


    "Well, that is a strange question," said Wiglaf. "With a stranger''s answer. Seathorius is always shifting, but our tunnels do not. Not unless we want them to."


    "Then which one leads to the farthest way north?" asked Twilight.


    "I''ll take you there myself when you are ready," said Wiglaf. "Will you accept what hospitality I can offer?"


    "We should set out at once," said Evensen.


    "No, we shouldn''t," said Twilus. "We''ve been walking for days and days Evensen. Let''s accept what hospitality these kind folk can offer. For the night at least."


    "You regarded us as less kind when you marched your armies into our domain," noted the King.


    "Wiglaf, we defeated their entire army without taking a single casualty," said Kiyora. "I think we''ve more than gotten our own back."


    "It is the principle of the thing," said the King. "It is a shame you were not here a week ago. We had a better Feast of the Hearth than in years."


    "Yeah," said Kiyora, "I had work." She paused. "Wait, so you celebrate that too?"


    "We''ve been celebrating it for hundreds of years in your honor, Dreaming Goddess." said the King. "How have you missed this?"


    "I sort of go with the flow," said Kiyora.


    "At any rate, you will both sit at our table as guests tonight if the Dreaming Goddess wills it," said the King.


    "I will it. While they''re here, I''d appreciate it if you taught them a bit about Nakmar culture and such," said Kiyora. "I don''t want there to be another war, and if they know more about us, that could help."


    "As you wish," said the King.


    Kiyora felt something drawing her upwards. She was returning to her own world. Yet as she arose into the void between the worlds, something gripped her. She felt as though a long claw was on her leg, pulling her back down. She struggled against it, trying to force her way to the surface, but was drawn back down again.


    Then all of a sudden, she was standing within some Nakmar living quarters. Evensen and Twilus were getting dressed, while Snooky slept by the door. Twilus looked up in surprise. "Oh, you''re back. We were about to leave without you."


    "How long have I been gone?" asked Kiyora.


    "Two days," said Evensen.


    "Great. The timelines are all screwed up or something," said Kiyora. Why hadn''t she been able to wake up? "How did the visit with the Nakmar go?"


    "It was great. I learned all kinds of things," said Twilus. "I could write a book about it later. Did you know that Nakmar swords, the best swords I mean, bond with their wielders?"


    "I''m the Dreaming Goddess. Of course, I know," said Kiyora. They did that? Why hadn''t anyone told her?


    "It was a total waste of our valuable time," said Evensen. "Why must you delay us?"


    "Look, I''ve got a lot of things to attend to, and a lot of them are important," said Kiyora, feeling bad for delaying them. "Now let''s go quickly."


    They packed their things and made their way out the door. They found Moira waiting for them. The dwarven woman bowed to them and looked to Kiyora. "Dreaming Goddess."


    "Moira?" said Kiyora.


    "Yes. I have been tasked with showing you how to reach the northern reaches of our tunnels," said Moira. "They are of recent make. King Houndslasher ordered us to dig nearer to Baltoth''s Retribution. That was some months ago, and they aren''t yet complete."


    "Thanks," said Kiyora. "Lead us there."


    Moira led them on through the tunnels. As they walked, they began rougher and less clean. Fewer dormitories opened into the side of the tunnels. Before long, the lights were dimmed and fewer. As they walked, Moira remained mostly silent.


    Finally, she glanced up. "Tell me, Dreaming Goddess. How have the weapons I forged for William and Felix been used?"


    "Those?" said Kiyora. That was right; she had made swords for William and Felix. "Um, well, William broke his injuring Laughing Wraith. But he got it repaired, and now it is pure black with red runes. He''s used it a lot. Felix''s has gone crimson with the blood of Melchious."


    "I am glad to hear that they have drunk such vile blood," said Moira.


    "Yeah, um, actually about that," said Kiyora. "William has gotten a lot taller since he got that sword, and the sword still fits him perfectly. Is there a reason for that?"


    "It was one of the spells," said Moira. "My sword has bonded to him and so changes to put itself as his service. The same can be said for Felix."


    "Well, that''s handy," said Kiyora.


    "Indeed," said Moira.


    "So how has the forging business been going?" asked Kiyora, trying to make conversation.


    "Better than ever," said Moira. "Tales of William and Felix''s great deeds have seen many purchase our blades. I have not yet made one as fine as that which I gave Felix. We are kept very busy, and we have enough money for luxuries we never had before.


    "And it is safe to walk in the woods without fear of ambush. Duke Vanion''s truce is a great boon to us. Of course, things are less bright now that you''ve had to draw back your hand. However, there aren''t nearly as many dangers in Seathorius as there once were."


    "So there haven''t been any battles with the satyrs?" asked Kiyora.


    "There have been a few skirmishes with individual clans," said Moira. "But, Arraxia punished the attackers severely."


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    "What has she been up to besides that?" asked Kiyora.


    "The satyrs have been purchasing much stone from us and using it to build walls and towers," said Moira. "I have also seen them drilling in the ways of human warriors."


    "You mean with phalanxes?" guessed Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Moira.


    "What has been done about this?" asked Kiyora.


    "King Houndslasher dispatched messengers to Duke Vanion. He requested aid in training our warriors into professional soldiers," said Moira. "We received it some time ago. All the young men of our villages are being taught to use spear and shield as well as axe and bow."


    "Good. Good," said Kiyora. "Glad to see you guys are taking your lives into your own hands. I kind of miss the days when I just went around helping people, no questions asked, though."


    "With respect, I do not," said Moira. "Your deeds were necessary with all the chaos, but I wouldn''t go back."


    "Yeah, I know," said Kiyora. "I''m just self-centered like that, I guess. Evensen, what do you think of the situation?"


    "Hmm?" asked Evensen.


    "If the Nakmar and the satyrs went to war with each other who would win, do you think?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Nakmar at present. Their tunnels are easily defendable and go throughout the land," said Evensen. "But the cost would be high and will get higher with every stone put on top of another around the satyr villages.


    "Had you only assisted us, we might have wiped out the foul brutes once and for all."


    "I know. That''s why I didn''t assist you," said Kiyora.


    "I think it''s great that satyrs and dwarves are becoming more civilized," said Twilus.


    "Do not presume that just because we are different than we are uncivilized," said Moira. "We are an ancient culture and can remember far back. And with greater clarity than the high elves."


    "The elves are the firstborn of the mortal races," said Twilus. "We remember back to the first days of this world. I''m not sure it is possible-"


    "Do you? Or do you remember only what you wish to remember?" asked Moira. "We Nakmar know the dream well. And we see it with clairvoyance that others cannot match."


    "I didn''t mean to offend you," said Twilus.


    "Well if you didn''t want to offend anyone, you shouldn''t have called them ''less civilized,''" said Kiyora.


    "What I meant was that all this trade is a good thing," said Twilus." Isn''t it?"


    "For them. We have a population that is still growing," said Evensen. "If we do not find some means to colonize other areas, many of us will starve."


    "You could try having fewer children," said Kiyora.


    "I''ve been saying that for years," said Twilus.


    "The growth of our population is an essential part of Queen Dawn''s strategy," said Evensen. "If we ever cease to grow, we will begin to shrink. And Anoa the Butcher''s victory will be complete. It is our task to repopulate the world and reestablish the elves of old."


    "Well, don''t expect us to just stand by and let you do so," said Moira. "Here we are."


    They were staring at a wall. It was solid.


    "Where?" asked Twilus. "That''s a dead end."


    "Of course, it appears that way," said Moira. "But look here." Then she tapped several times upon the wall. It slid open and revealed a wood illuminated by a sky of twilight. "This passage comes out a day''s journey south of Baltoth''s Retribution. If you travel quickly and carefully, you should be able to reach it without being spotted. Getting into the castle itself is your own business.


    "Good luck, Queen Yagos."


    "Thanks," said Kiyora.


    They parted ways with Moira. Together, the three elves made their way into the dark forests of Seathorius. As they walked, Kiyora listened to the trees. And somehow, she could not hear their voices as keenly as she once did.


    She focused on them, immersing her mind into their speech. As she walked, she let her mind drift away into the woods and the trees. From them, she gathered that they were not happy with Arraxia''s presence. The groans could be heard, even by Evensen and Twilus.


    "Why are these trees angry?" asked Twilus.


    "You can sense them?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''ve been taught to attune myself with them," said Twilus. "Though it isn''t natural like the legendary Dreamer Elves. I can only get a general sense. They are angry about something."


    "It''s Arraxia," said Kiyora. "She''s been forcing the trees to let her bring materials to Baltoth''s Retribution for almost a year. Anytime a tree refused, Arraxia threatens them with fire. And now Arraxia is using Baltoth''s Retribution to move her people around quickly. To boost commerce, I think.


    "Trees don''t like moving. When you can get a rise out of them, they''re terrifying. But getting a rise out of them is hard."


    "Do you think they''ll help us?" asked Twilus.


    "No, probably not," admitted Kiyora. "I think they are annoyed with me as well. Anyway-"


    Then, suddenly, Kiyora was standing at the top of a dark tower. It reached into a green vortex in the sky and looked down upon the great tree, Actovosh. Far below the city was utterly dark. A violet mist was rising throughout it, and the flashes of light could be seen below.


    There was Arraxia. She was standing at the edge of the tower, eyes glowing. One clawed hand was on her hip as she leaned upon her axe. A smile was on her face, and her dark hair was blowing in the wind. At her feet were dozens of masked figures, lying comatose on the ground.


    Arraxia turned around, and the unconscious bodies faded into blue light. There was Lieutenant Escalus. The red-haired officer had her sword in hand, her stance perfect. Arraxia spun the Axe of Fortenex around and took a stance, tail flicking. "So the elves have brought out their elites, have they? No matter. Behold the beginnings of my ascension!" S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your ascension will never happen," said Escalus.


    Then she surged forward.


    There were a series of lightning-fast blows. A blur of black and red slammed into each other, then darted away and collided again. The two passed each other, and Escalus turned around. There was a cut on her cheek, but instead of blood, there was blue light. Arraxia fell to one knee, then rose again.


    She glanced back lazily, her Axe glowing. "...Hmm, who are you exactly?"


    "Lieutenant Escalus," said Escalus. "Head of the DSD in Actovosh."


    "Is that acronym meant to mean anything to me?" asked Arraxia. "Although I will admit this is more entertaining than I expected. Still, why don''t we-"


    There was an audible click. Arraxia looked back at something. Then, there was a noise like thunder, and she reeled back. Black liquid slid down several small cuts on her face.


    What the heck?


    Laurus stood there, holding a pump-action shotgun. He pumped it again and fired it at her. This time, Arraxia spun the axe. The projectiles were washed away in a wave of red energy, and her face began to heal.


    Yet even as she prepared to attack, Escalus was on her. Arraxia blocked the strike, only to be shot again, this time in the leg. She fell to one knee. The Axe of Fortenex glowed a brilliant red, and Arraxia roared. Escalus was thrown backward by what seemed a wave of blood. Laurus dropped his gun and clutched his eyes in agony. As he screamed, Escalus fell to one knee, her hands shaking.


    "Oh yes, well done, irritating me," repeated Arraxia, leg healing. "Unfortunately for you, my very being is now interwoven with the fabric of this world. You can no more slay me than you could the God who gives you form and existence.


    "So you are really just wasting your time. Time which you have precious little of left," Then she motioned to the sky. There, high above, was a portal that showed Arraxia''s throne. And placed within it was the Void Stone, sending unholy energies down through the tower. "The power of the Void Stone and the Axe of Fortenex cannot be halted. Even as we speak, my control over this domain grows, and all who reside within it shall soon be under my sway."


    "Sway this," said Laurus before drawing out a submachine gun.


    As a barrage of bullets was unleashed against Arraxia, who raised a hand and summoned a shield of red energy. Kiyora wondered where Laurus was getting all weaponry. Not that the shield was really necessary, most of Laurus'' shots were all over the place. Submachine guns looked very impressive, but it didn''t seem like Laurus was all that good with them.


    The guns clicked empty, and the shield was dropped. Arraxia surged forward, claw outstretched.


    An arrow landed before her as she went in for the kill. Vines grew upwards and wrapped around her. Reya landed with Laurus, who pulled out two pistols and unlocked the safeties.


    "Where did you get those guns, Laurus?" asked Reya.


    "I robbed a firearm store, okay," said Laurus. "Also a clothes store."


    Escalus landed in front of them as the vines were torn apart. Arraxia arose into the air, writhed in a violet flame.


    "Well," said Arraxia, "I was hoping to break her by showing her all your broken bodies. I suppose I''ll have to start taking this seriously."


    She charged, and everything went black.


    Kiyora focused. She was back in Seathorius. Was Arraxia deliberately showing her all this just to gloat? That seemed in character for her. Then again, as far as Arraxia knew, Kiyora had no plans to stop her.


    Shows what she knew.


    "Kiyora, what''s wrong?" asked Twilight.


    "We''ve got to keep moving," said Kiyora. "Things are getting worse. Come quick."


    She hoped Laurus and Escalus were all right. But how had they gotten on that tower, and where had it come from? Kiyora was going to have to ask them when she got back. Assuming she could make sure there was something to get back to.

 Chapter Sixteen: Fruits of Labor

    Fortenex was in a good mood. A very, very good mood.


    He lounged upon his throne, looking forward to the coming bloodletting. One of his wives was chained to his throne in her mortal form. Her eyes gazed up at him with mindless devotion. Breaking this one had been a great deal of fun, though he had long since forgotten her name. For all the affection he held her in, she was a pale shadow of Amysta.


    When Karasush entered the room, his thoughts were distracted from that depressing note. His cloak was billowing in a cold south wind. Fortenex knew because he''d summoned up that wind himself to make the man look good. He succeeded. It added a formidable aspect to the mask, particularly. The sorcerer came before the throne and fell to one knee in fealty. "Lord Fortenex."


    "Yes, Karasush, what is it?" asked Fortenex.


    "There are strange lights in the sky," said Karasush. A figure with a trail of lightning is approaching the hall." His head was lowered, but there was a hint of an accusation. Fortenex, of course, had known of her coming already. That was the trouble with being a god: You had to wait for everyone else to catch up.


    "Oh wonderful," said Fortenex. "Zeya always did like to make an entrance. Just let her in before-" The door was blown off its hinges, and Zeya appeared in the strike of a dozen lightning bolts. The floor was scorched. "-she does that."


    "Fortenex!" roared Zeya.


    Fortenex arose from his throne and threw his cloak aside, taking a stance as he did. Karasus took a stance as well, as though to defend the throne. Yet he needn''t have bothered. "Ah, Queen Zeya! You look ravishing, as always. How did your affair go?"


    "You wretch!" said Zeya. "You made me try and take advantage of my own descendant!"


    "I did not make you do anything," said Fortenex in irritation. "And when did I suggest you take advantage of William Gabriel?"


    "You told me that Tanith was Azgora''s daughter!" said Zeya.


    "No, I didn''t," said Fortenex in irritation. "I said that you should look to her compatriot, William. I meant that he was Azgora''s child, not Tanith. You must have misinterpreted my words." What part of ''trickster god'' did these people not understand?


    That was one of the errors a lot of people made. They assumed that Fortenex was all about kicking in doors and killing people. That was fun, but it had to be done in moderation. And the best people kicked in doors and killed people after tricking them. Tanith knew a thing or two about that.


    "And how did Herus know of what I was doing?" asked Zeya, eyes narrowed.


    "Well, you were pursuing your conquest around the time of one of his festivals," said Fortenex. "I suppose he might have been watching for something to that effect."


    Zeya looked at him. "You''re a damned liar."


    Fortenex sighed and reflected that technically speaking was a damned liar. He was a demon, and he was a liar; that was part of their dynamic. Now, how do you evade responsibility for both? "Zeya, if you don''t feel like taking responsibility for your actions, that''s your choice. But don''t come into my halls and demand compensation because you misread my words. This entire situation would have been avoided if you checked up on your descendants occasionally.


    "Had you paid attention to Azgora even once in the past sixteen years, you would have learned that she had a son. Not a daughter. However, you didn''t. And what exactly was so important that you were doing in the meantime?


    "Hurling lightning bolts at people who displeased you?"


    "As if you''re any better," said Zeya, having the nerve to look with distaste at his mindless wives. Summoning a bolt of lightning, it flared to life, while Fortenex looked at her flatly and dared her to do it. Karasus began to arrange for the evacuation of the servants.


    Which was nice. Fortenex might need them later.


    "I''ll have you know that I have never taken advantage of anyone," said Fortenex. "All of my consorts are consensual. My wives'' entire purpose for existence is to serve me. I trained their minds for that purpose. I enjoy having power over others, and when that power is given to me freely, I am all the more glad of it. It is the one thing my brother and I have in common."


    "On the contrary, Fortenex," said a voice. "You share many of the same failings besides that."


    A cold north wind blew in, and many snowflakes flowed in. These snowflakes took the form of a man. He had pale skin and hair as white as snow. Then came many leaves which formed into the shape of a beautiful, yet terrible, woman. It was like her skin was of bark and her hair was that of leaves. Where she walked, plague spread and grass raised upwards. The skies churned above her.


    "Ah, Elranor. And Laevian as well," said Fortenex. "It is a regular reunion of old friends. I must thank you for using the door. We just had that one reinforced. How may I help you?"


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    "You can account for your actions for a start," said Elranor. Ever the humorlous and serious. You could tell exactly what Elranor was going to do and say without the bother of asking him. Perhaps that''s why Harlenor liked him so much, you always knew what you were getting. "You''ve cursed one of my paladins."


    "He cut the hand from one of my children," said Fortenex with a shrug. "I have a right to vengeance."


    "Your son attacked first and was dead set on devouring an entire village," noted Elranor.


    "When has revenge required a rational motive, pray tell?" asked Fortenex. "It is enough to know that your subject hurt mine. That justifies any level of force I can get away with. In fact, anything justifies any level of force I can get away with."


    "Well, I''m afraid you won''t get away with it," said Elranor. "Laevian has sewn the seeds of disease in Viokinar, and I am the god of healing. If you don''t provide me with compensation, she will unleash it, and I will withdraw my magic from Viokinar."


    Fortenex was almost surprised. Almost. He had expected some kind of threat, but threatening plague hadn''t been it. Laevian must have been wanting an opportunity.


    "I''m impressed, Elranor," said Fortenex, meaningfully. "You would kill your colonists?"


    "Hardly," said Laevian, "I''ve been releasing the disease in small doses for centuries. Harlenor has developed an immunity to it. In Viokinar, however, they are isolated and have no such protection. Doing this will speed our conquest and render most of your subjects quite dead."


    "I wonder how many coastal towns I could render obliterated by hurricanes?" mused Fortenex. "Perhaps most to all of them."


    "You''re not so foolish as to call my bluff, Fortenex," said Laevian. "Your brother is growing in power. He''ll be the only victor if we start a war of the gods."


    Fortenex sighed. "...You speak truly. What do you want?"


    "I want you to bring the winds to bear against a fleet of ships of my choosing in a fashion of my choosing," said Elranor. "No questions asked. When I order it done, you will do it."


    "Very well, it will be done," said Fortenex. "So long as the target isn''t my subjects. Take that, or feel free to start a war."


    "And you, Zeya," said Elranor.


    "I have done nothing," said Zeya.


    "On the contrary, you have," said Elranor. "You have directly violated my request not to bring your petty lusts into my domain. You also did it to one of my paladins no less. I desire compensation for this. As a token of apology."


    Zeya shifted. "...So be it. What is it you want, Elranor?"


    "I want you to summon a lightning storm in an area near Gel Carn," said Elranor. A great army of satyrs is attacking the Heir of Kings. Your power will be channeled through Lightning Trail to destroy them."


    "Whatever you wish," said Zeya. "I''m going home." There was a crack of lightning, and she was gone.


    "Goodbye, Fortenex," said Elranor.


    Then he and Laevian faded away in a gust of snow. What a collection of absolute killjoys.


    Fortenex remained silent for a long moment. Then he leaped with a cheer, pumping his fists. "Yes!"


    "I take it that all that was as planned?" said Karasush.


    "Yes, it was," said Fortenex. "I''m Not Allowed to Use my winds to alter the courses of battles very often. When I do it on my own, it allows the other gods to do the same with their domains. Elranor doesn''t know it, but he''s played into my hands."


    "Ah, that is why you helped Safara''s ship escape Calisha then," noted Karasush.


    "Yes. Of course, Baltoth can''t prove anything," said Fortenex. "It just so happened to be perfect winds for their escape."


    "It will mean war between Estal and Calisha," mused Karasush.


    "Yes, I know. There will be a great bloodletting, and I will be its architect," said Fortenex. "Elranor will use the winds to destroy the Calishan fleet. However, the Calishans do not give up easily and will not stand for their god''s humiliation. They will build another fleet, larger still, and fall on Estal. By that time, Harlenor will have mobilized.


    "That cursed truce made by Vanion will be torn to shreds. Blood and death shall rule the day. And when it is over, I will be able to raid and plunder freely. My armies shall march across the devastated kingdoms of Harlenor and Calisha!"


    "It is a fine plan, milord. However, may I caution you not to be too optimistic," said Karasush. "Vanion and Elranor have a way of derailing such plans." S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I am well aware. Indeed, it is your cautious nature for which I choose you as my high priest, Karasush," said Fortenex. "A wise man never has someone just like him as an advisor."


    "My thanks," said Karasush. "If I may ask, what about the girl? Tanith."


    "Yes, one of my unwitting followers," said Fortenex. "I see great potential in her, despite the nature of her soul. She is a girl after my own heart. I hope to reveal myself to her eventually."


    "Then you think she is the one?" asked Karasush.


    "Possibly," said Fortenex. "William is a bad influence on her, however. He and so many other noble knights. If she is to unite my worshippers and finally strip away the mask of Kreshlak, it will take time to mold her. Perhaps lifetimes before she is ready."


    "Well, we have time if nothing else," said Karasush.


    That annoyed Fortenex. He sat down on his throne and fondled his wife. "Yes. And too much of it. Duke Vanion''s absurd truce has interfered with my designs long enough. What should have been a world-ending conflict almost fizzled out? I''m going to have to find a special end for him."


    "Might I suggest we wait, milord," said Karasush. "Peace is to our benefit, for now."


    "Yes, I know," said Fortenex. "At the very least, we''ll have a perfect view of the fate of Estal."


    "And what of your daughter?" asked Karasush.


    Fortenex blinked. What was he on about? "Which one?"


    "I don''t know her true name; she keeps it a secret," said Karasush. "She is called Arraxia, however."


    "Ah yes, her. I''ve granted her limited dominion over the Axe of Fortenex," said Fortenex. "She''s successful enough to warrant a chance to impress me. Even so, I don''t see much hope for her. Her infatuation with House Gabriel will be her undoing. And she doesn''t leave nearly enough bodies in her wake for my taste."


    "There are virtues to doing things without mass carnage, milord," said Karasush.


    Fortenex laughed. "Why do you think I keep you around?"

 Chapter Seventeen: Kiyoras Gambit

    The three of them sped as quickly through the trees as they dared. Kiyora was able to convince the trees to help them move quickly, mostly by promising to cause trouble for Arraxia. However, their aid was sluggish, so the journey was not as fast as she would have liked. Days passed, and Kiyora prayed that time would pass differently in her world than this one.


    Certainly, all the signs were there.


    Then, very suddenly, Snooky, who was walking at the front, halted. He sniffed at the air, then padded to Twilus with a whimper. Twilus looked worried. "Snooky says satyrs are approaching. I see them through the trees."


    "Follow me," said Evensen.


    Evensen found a place for them to hide very quickly. It was a hollow beneath the roots of a great tree, shielded by bushes. Kiyora hated the sensation of dirt on her legs as she lay down within it, but she was soon distracted.


    Into view came Sadira. And with her were a large force of satyrs.


    "Anything?" asked Sadira. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No. We''ve seen no intruders worth eating," muttered a larger satyr. "The sooner this wretched peace is over, the better."


    "It isn''t all bad, Shrev," said Sadira. "At least we''ve got things we could never have before."


    "Harlenor can keep its luxuries," snapped Shrev. Give me red dwarf meat, whole and raw. That is something worth killing for. But instead, we''ve been doing merchant business, putting out our backs, and making fortresses.


    "Makes me pine for the days of Melchious."


    "That is a very fine remark," mused Sadira, suddenly threatening in her voice. I think I should discuss it with Doltier."


    "I was just talking," said Shrev. "Do words hurt you?"


    "See to it that it doesn''t come to anything besides words," said Sadira. "I''ll not tolerate blasphemy or insubordination. Doltier commands it so."


    "Doltier doesn''t know what is good for anyone but his precious Arraxia," snapped Shrev. "If that is her right name."


    "I heard it was a pet name given to her by a human," said another in amusement. "I wonder if he gave her a collar with the name on it."


    "Collar?!" roared Sadira. "You''ll wish you had a collar of iron when my blade cleaves through your neck!"


    Scimitars were drawn. The satyrs glared at each other.


    "You''re welcome to try, you black-furred bitch," snarled Shrev. "Melchious never would have let this happen."


    "But he would this!" snarled Sadira.


    Sadira''s scimitar lashed out. Shrev dodged the blow, but Sadira brought around her staff to hit him in the face. He reeled, and she drove her sword through his groin. It wasn''t the end but the beginning because the other satyr went at her with a spear.


    Other satyrs drew their swords. The entire group was hacking and slashing each other to pieces in a few moments. Hands were cut off, eyes gouged out, and necks bitten. Evensen tapped Kiyora, then Twilight. "They''re fighting among themselves. This is our chance."


    He led them out of the roots, and they slipped away as the shrieks and screams gradually died away. Kiyora sighed. "From the sounds of things, the satyrs are looking for a fight. I''d better find a common enemy to unite against soon, or we''ll be in a mess."


    "Do you mean us?" asked Twilight in shock.


    "No. If I did, I wouldn''t have said anything," said Kiyora. "I mean, find someone who deserves it and unleash the satyrs on them."


    "What about the satyrs of Khasmir?" said Evensen. "They worship Fortenex while these worship Arraxia. Perhaps we could get the two to fight each other."


    "William did tell me Arraxia has a grudge against the High Priest of Fortenex," said Kiyora.


    "Maybe I could arrange a joint venture."


    "Wait, so we''re on a mission to steal the source of Arraxia''s power. And you are already planning to make an alliance with her?" asked Twilight.


    "I''m thinking about it," said Kiyora. "You''ve got to think about the long game when you''re a god."


    "Well, you''ve certainly never done that," muttered Evensen.


    They pressed on through the darkness of the wood. Snooky proved very valuable here, always detecting enemies long before they arrived. Each time, they''d move and dodge a large group of satyrs, though none came as close as Sadira.


    At last, they came out into the sight of Baltoth''s Retribution. It was not as it had been. All semblance of glamour was gone. It stood tall and strong, crooked towers scraping the sky like claws. The ground around it was different as well. Before, it had appeared beautiful while being wicked beneath the surface. Now, it was drab and horrible upfront.


    Ironically, it was much more pleasant to look at. You weren''t afraid something was going to jump out at you, though something still might. Evensen and Twilight seemed intimidated, however. Snooky, disinterested, scratched his ears and panted.


    "Baltoth''s Retribution," said Twilight.


    Then Kiyora flinched. She was suddenly standing on that same dark tower. Escalus was lying still on the ground beneath the feet of Arraxia. So were Laurus and Reya. The demoness stood triumphant, and the darkness was consuming Actovosh.


    The screams of the damned could be heard far below.


    And then there was a burst of brilliant orange light. Emperor Ictargo landed upon the tower, blade in hand. Arraxia sighed and turned to face him. "Hmm, Kiyora''s memories tell me you are a spineless weakling named Emperor Ictargo. To what do I owe the pleasure?"


    "You know well," said Ictargo. "I will not allow you to seize this place."


    "Oh, but I have already seized it," said Arraxia. "I am bound to the Dreaming Goddess, and through that, I am bound to this place. My essence pervades the fabric of reality you watch over, and soon it will be mine to command. And dear Kiyora is trapped in what she thinks is a dream world, weakening herself."


    Ictargo raised his blade. "You will never succeed while I draw breath."


    Arraxia yawned and looked at her claws. "You don''t draw breath. You and every other elf exist in a perpetual dream, with the appearance of life but no real existence. That is why no one ever dies. Their souls reform when killed, and no one is the wiser.


    "But they are all subject to the Dreaming Goddess, and she is not strong enough to resist me anymore. Indeed, she is now reliant on your dispensations of power. Once you are defeated, Ictargo, I need only bend her to my will.


    "And all the Dreamer Empire will be at my feet." Then she surged forward, and her axe met Ictargo''s blade. They fought back and forth, but Arraxia fought like a berserker, and Ictargo was forced back. Then Arraxia knocked his feet out from under him and kicked him backward.


    Raising her axe skyward, Arraxia channeled the power into the Void Stone. Both artifacts glowed with an unholy light¡ªthe moans of the damned intensified. "Now fall! Fall with the rest of these insufferable sheep!"


    Kiyora felt herself being drawn in, but she resisted. She refused to be consumed by this thing. It was oddly simple. She could feel that others were making the same choice, their wills acting like one. Arraxia looked at both artifacts. Both were amplifying her will. And yet Arraxia''s will was still not enough.


    "You''re wrong," said Ictargo. "The spirits of the Dreamer Elves do live. Every one of them has their hopes, dreams, and goals. All of them seek to make their own way in an ever-changing world. Our reality may differ, but yours is no less valid."


    "Your reality is the plaything of a spoiled child," said Arraxia in a hiss.


    "How can you know that what you call history was not made moments ago with the illusion of age?" asked Ictargo. "How can any man trust that the world will not shift beyond recognition in moments? They cannot.


    "But they persist and seek to change the world for the better in a thousand ways every day.


    "You think that controlling them will be simple. However, I know my subjects. And I know they will never submit to one like you!"


    That was actually pretty cool. For a moment, Kiyora thought Arraxia would fly into a rage, curse, and scream. Yet she didn''t. Instead, she merely spun the axe and sighed. "...Well, there goes that plan. Oh well. I''ll just absorb the souls of the Dreamer Elves into the Void Stone. Thereby increasing my own power and destroying your entire species,"


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    Ictargo blinked. "...You don''t think you''re capable of that, do you."


    "I am well capable of improvisation," said Arraxia before looking straight at her with a smile. "Wouldn''t you agree, Kiyora?"


    Then Kiyora was standing again before Baltoth''s Retribution. There was a sudden roaring, and dark magic poured from Baltoth''s Retribution. Kiyora felt as though something was trying to draw on her strength as well. Furiously she denied it.


    "What is happening?" asked Twilight.


    Kiyora knew what had to be done. "Twilight, use the harp of Alchara now!"


    "What?" said Twilus.


    "Use it!" said Kiyora. "Disrupt the spell!"


    Twilus quickly slung the harp off and began to play it. As she did, Kiyora saw her focusing power on it. The harp began to glow, and a ray of light shot out from it to hit the castle. The spell being cast wavered and receded for a time. Yet soon, it came back stronger. Kiyora could feel a powerful will drawing on it, trying to force the issue.


    "I... I can''t hold this for long," said Twilus. "The Void Stone is too powerful."


    "Just hold on," said Kiyora. "Keep it occupied. Evensen, let''s go. We''ve got to get the Void Stone before Arraxia can finish her spell. If she succeeds, she''ll become more powerful than ever. Snooky, stay here and guard Twilus."


    Snooky yawned and began to scratch himself behind the ears. Then he lay down to sleep. Why had they brought him along again? Oh, right, to dodge satyrs.


    "How do we get in," asked Evensen.


    "Through the front gate," said Kiyora.


    Kiyora knew she was not supposed to use her powers. But the gates were shut, and this was an emergency. Raising a hand, she drew on the part of her within Baltoth''s Retribution. Taking hold of the shifting currents of the land, she moved herself and Evensen.


    They appeared in the courtyard, surrounded by satyrs. All of those satyrs had very pointy swords pointed at them. Evensen drew his weapon. However, that was probably a moot point.


    "Hold where you are, Dreaming Goddess," said a satyr. "Lady Arraxia commanded that we slay any who seek entry into Baltoth''s Retribution. You will not pass this way save over our corpses."


    "Yeah no," said Kiyora.


    And she shifted them again. Doing it hurt. She felt a biting pain in her head and fell to one knee as they arrived. But she managed to stand.


    They were in a deserted hallway, and the air was humming. Whispers could be heard wherever they walked. Kiyora did her best to focus. "Quickly, Evensen! We''ve got to go!"


    "Which way?" said Evensen.


    "Follow me," said Kiyora. "I know the way."


    She quickly led him through the halls. As she ran, a group of satyrs came around the bend to bar their path. Evensen rushed forward, sword in hand. But Kiyora shifted the past. The pain had been bad before, but now it has become massively worse.


    "What are you doing?" asked Evensen.


    "I''m shifting the land within Baltoth''s Retribution. It should misdirect them," said Kiyora, feeling a headache coming on. "I can''t keep this up long, so come on."


    "Where is the Void Stone?" asked Evensen.


    "It is located on the throne of Arraxia. I saw it before," said Kiyora. "Come on. And don''t kill any guards."


    "Why not?" asked Evensen.


    "When I fought your army, I didn''t kill any elves, nor did the satyrs," said Kiyora. "You should return the favor."


    They came to a set of double doors Kiyora pushed the doors open, and they rushed into the throne room. There was the Void Stone on Arraxia''s throne. It was channeling unholy energies into a portal high above them.


    And there before the throne stood Doltier. His scimitars were in his hands, and he smiled.


    "Doltier," said Evensen.


    "Tonight, I feast on elf meat," said Doltier.


    Then he surged forward. Evensen ran to meet him, and the two met in a flurry of blows. Evensen attacked with a series of two-handed strokes. Then Doltier slipped around a pillar and came at him from the side. Evensen was forced on the defensive beneath a flurry of strikes.


    Kiyora took the chance to slip past one of the bonfires, making her way toward the throne. Glancing back, she saw Doltier bash Evensen across the face with a pommel. The elf soldier fell, and Doltier slashed at him in the hopes of a killing blow. Evensen raised his blade, but it was too late.


    There was a scream.


    Kiyora felt cold, but she forced herself to focus. She turned and ran toward the Void Stone and gripped it. The pain was instant and horrible. She withdrew her hands reflexively. No, she had to get it. Reaching forward, she grasped the stone and tried to haul it off the throne. Every inch was a battle, but she drew it off. It came out so suddenly that she fell down the throne''s steps and hit the ground.


    Before she could get up, a hoof was forced down on her chest. Dottier stood over her. "You have failed, Dreaming Goddess. The Void Stone will devour your world, and Lady Arraxia will become a god like no other."


    He raised his elven scimitar. Then he screamed as his hand was cut off. Doltier fell backward, and Evensen came forward. The elf''s left eye had been slashed out, and he was missing the two lower fingers on his right hand.


    With a look of fury, he drove his blade into Doltier''s gut, drew out the sword, and stabbed him again. Doltier fell limp. Evensen sheathed his blade and picked up the sword Doltier had stolen.


    "Let''s go," said Evensen. "Quickly."


    Kiyora clutched the Void Stone, and together they ran through the halls. It wasn''t long before satyrs came after them. As they ran, Kiyora felt the Void Stone glowing. It was still sending out power and still trying to consume her world.


    The sensation of it hurt; more than anything, she wanted to throw it away. But she knew she couldn''t do it. Looking at Evensen, she saw he was bleeding badly. Every so often, he nearly stumbled, and the satyrs were drawing closer.


    In desperation, Kiyora led them through a door. But it was a dead-end, something like a storage room. Evensen locked the door. Then he ripped cloth from his outfit and wrapped it around his fingers in a makeshift bandage. Moments later, there was a slamming sound on the door.


    "Kiyora breaks the connection!" said Evensen, finishing his bandage. "I''ll hold them off as long as I can!"


    Kiyora focused on the Void Stone. She tried to sever the connection, but she was rebuffed. Her will was too weak. And she sensed Arraxia gloating.


    "You''ve failed, Kiyora. The Void Stone has been connected to your world," said Arraxia. "The Dreamer Empire is mine. Soon, you and all your race will serve me. Though finding a use for such a race of insufferable dullards might be difficult."


    What could Kiyora do? She couldn''t stop the connection. The door was breaking. Already, Kiyora could feel the Void Stones beginning to sap the souls of Dreamer Elves, and she couldn''t stop it.


    Wait. Arraxia could send spirits through the Void Stone to other worlds. She''d done it before. If Kiyora couldn''t stop the flow, maybe she could reverse it. She focused and tried to force them out, but they recoiled in terror.


    They were the people of the Iron Kingdom. Long ago, Melchious, as the Iron King, had convinced them to sacrifice their souls. To send them into the Iron Stone rather than submit to the gods. These poor people had been trapped here for so long that they knew nothing but obedience to darkness.


    Kiyora couldn''t force them to do anything. She didn''t have the power.


    But maybe she could convince them to leave? "Listen to me, all of you; I can free you. But if you will escape, you must push toward the other world now.


    "I can open the way," She sent forth the words.


    And they listened. But Arraxia laughed. "Open the way? With what power, Kiyora? You''ve squandered your spells, helping others."


    "You''re right," said Kiyora. I don''t have the power, but you do."


    "What?" said Arraxia.


    Kiyora ignored her reserves of power. She followed her connection to Arraxia to its source and dragged on the power within. They were connected, and Kiyora could sense her pride, narcissism, unhealthy obsessions, and affections. It was sickening and terrifying at once.


    And she drew on it. Arraxia was stronger, but she was focused on many things. Her will was spread out. At the same time, Kiyora had only one thing on her mind.


    "Get... get out of my head. I... won''t allow this..." said Arraxia.


    "Open!" screamed Kiyora, focusing her energy.


    "NO!!" screamed Arraxia.


    The doors burst open at that moment, and the satyrs surged in. Yet even as they did, the Void Stone cracked. It exploded as uncountable souls poured out, entering into the world. The satyrs were thrown back. All that remained was a shard of perfect red crystal.


    Thinking quickly, Kiyora used Arraxia''s power to transport them. In an instant, she and Evensen were transported outside the castle. Evensen fell to one knee.


    "Is it done?" he asked.


    "Yes," said Kiyora. "The Void Stone is destroyed."


    "Then we have done what we set out to do," said Evensen. "Now we die well."


    "Like hell," said Kiyora, helping him up. "Come on. Let''s go. We''ll get out of sight and see to those injuries."


    The two of them moved as quickly as they could toward the woods. There, they found Twilus. She was still playing the harp, tears in her eyes as she did. Two satyrs lay dead by her, their throats ripped out. Snooky lay on the ground. A spear was in the wolf''s heart, and he was lying still.


    As they reached, her Evensen collapsed. Twilus looked up and dropped the harp. "Evensen! Evensen, stay with me! Give me a moment. I''ll heal you!"


    She raised the harp and played more. The wound on Evensen''s eye healed, but the eye was not restored. Even elves couldn''t heal eye wounds that quickly. His finger stumps ceased to bleed, at least.


    "What happened here?" asked Kiyora.


    "A patrol came by and attacked," said Twilus. "Snooky he, he fought them off. One of them wounded him. I couldn''t heal him! It was all I could do to keep the spell from succeeding! I had to watch him bleed out!"


    "I''m sorry," said Kiyora. "Come on; we need to leave."


    "We can''t leave Snooky like this," said Twilus. "Not for the satyrs to eat him."


    "If we don''t get out of here, we''ll all end up getting eaten," said Kiyora. "Now come on! He wouldn''t want you to die here!" So the wolf had been good for something. No, no, that was her contact with Arraxia speaking, she shouldn''t feel any satisfaction at this.


    Snooky had been annoying, but he hadn''t deserved to die like that. Neither had Doltier. Or anyone.


    So they staggered onward. They left behind the bodies and ran. Evensen had to be supported the whole time, and they moved slowly. So slowly. Yet the soldier would not release the sword in his hand.


    And then Kiyora felt her. Arraxia had entered this world. And he was pissed.


    The beat of her wings was like thunder. A feral roar echoed throughout the woods. All the trees cowered as a being of flame appeared in the sky. The Axe of Fortenex was flaring with her rage.


    "Run!" said Kiyora. "Get back to Qur'' danas! She''s after me!"


    "We can''t leave you," said Twilus.


    "Go!" said Kiyora. "I can''t die, I''ll be fine! I''ll meet you there!"


    Twilus nodded mutely and pressed on. Kiyora turned back to where the flames were drawing near. The trees separated around her, creating a clearing as they cowered in fear. Arraxia landed, writhed in violet flame.


    "You bitch!" roared Arraxia. "You miserable blue-haired bitch you ruined everything!"


    "Well, that is what I do," said Kiyora, smiling.


    "I''ll kill you!" screamed Arraxia. "I''ll tear you limb from limb!"


    "Good luck with that," said Kiyora.


    She was out of power. She couldn''t do anything.


    The demoness charged at Kiyora and swung the axe. Kiyora had just time to hope she was right about not being able to die. Then everything went white.

 Chapter Eighteen: Safaras Gaze

    The letter said:


    My son,


    I am concerned about the deaths, of course. I merely do not let those concerns get in the way of my overall goals. As for poor taste, I''m afraid there are far worse men than I. Still, I take your point about Byran into account. You have my word. I will show all due respect to local customs, as I always do.


    I will amend my statement about Melchious. I called him stupid because our viewpoints are completely alien to one another. The idea of someone who causes destruction and misery simply for its own sake is foreign to me. It is the antithesis of my beliefs. I prefer to cause as little devastation as possible in the pursuit of creating a legacy¡ªone that will hopefully last a thousand years. You have played an invaluable part in that.


    Regarding Arraxia, you underestimate her. I dearly wish you had been able to stop her from getting away. I regard her as far more competent than Melchious. Given sufficient resources, she could become a serious power in her own right. Still, I expect we will have some time before she learns to use either device.


    I am disappointed to hear about the winds. They are traditionally Kreshlak''s affair. I will have to consult his priests on the way to lift whatever curse your voyage is under. Fortunately, there are so many of them in Viokinar.


    Sincerely,


    Your Father, Duke Vanion Gabriel.


    William finished the letter in his room. After a moment, he drew up some paper and began to write his reply;


    Dear Father,


    I am in haste, so I must be brief. Estal is in a crisis. Prince Aris has convinced Princess Safara, Baltoth''s daughter, to elope with him. Even as we speak, Calisha is probably on its way with an army.


    By the time you receive this war may have been declared. Do you have any insight for me? I need help.


    Sincerely,


    Your son, William Gabriel


    When he had finished, he let the ink dry. Then he took it to Mother. "Here is my letter. Did you write to yours?"


    "Yes," said Azgora. "I am glad we''ll finally have a war I can fight in. Bearing Soren and Calgora kept me from the fighting with the raishans. But at last, I shall have the chance to show my valor."


    "Well, I''m sure the King will appreciate it," said William. He had not discussed the matter of Zeya with her. He did not think the conversation would go well.


    The door opened, and Felix entered. "William, Aris, and Safara are about to meet with the King to request sanctuary. If you intend to say anything, you''d best do so now."


    William looked to Azgora, who was now polishing her shield. She looked up. "Go, my son. I have no interest in the matter."


    "Very well," said William.


    When he finally got to the great hall, he found the assembly waiting. Tanith was there, and she looked at him in surprise. "William, where have you been?"


    "Writing a letter to my father," said William. "I''m hoping he''ll find a way to stop all this."


    "I wouldn''t count on getting out of it that easily, William," said Tanith.


    "If I wanted to ''get out of it,'' I should have left with the tide," muttered William.


    "Fair enough," said Tanith.


    Then came the herald. "King Estal, your son, Prince Aris, is here with the Lady Safara."


    Into the room came Aris. And with him was Safara, still hooded and cloaked. King Estal and the court looked at her. As they did, William felt that same tugging at his heartstrings. He saw the others also felt it and evidently were more affected. He has experience keeping his will in the face of magical influence.


    He had control of what he felt.


    He caught a single blue eye glancing over him from under Safara''s hood. He found there was a lump in his throat, but he swallowed it down. He was in control.


    And then she shed her cloak like a snake sheds its skin. Her bare, tanned shoulders were revealed. Her raven hair, tied into a raised ponytail, flowed behind her like a river. Her bright blue eyes shone as she put her hands behind her back, sticking out her chest. She slithered forward, hips swaying.


    Gasps of awe filled the room. People leaned forward, entranced by her beauty¡ªand what beauty it was. Nothing William had ever seen had come remotely close. More than ever now, he desired to hold her¡ªbut not to possess her¡ªto be possessed¡ªto be hers and hers alone and be given what place in the universe she decided best.


    For surely, there could be nothing more beautiful than for her to look upon him with pleasure. What greater glory could there be than hearing praise from her perfect, pouty lips? No bliss could be greater than to have her coil around him and-


    Wait.


    William had been through this before. She was enchanting him and everyone else in this entire room, yet his mouth was still dry. Being aware that he was not himself when looking at her didn''t nullify her powers. He felt he should speak up, but he felt unbearable shame even considering questioning her.


    He decided to hold his tongue for now.


    "Princess Safara, I have heard tales of your unworldly beauty. But I had not believed them until now," said Estal, as enchanted as everyone else. "You shine more radiantly than the sun itself."


    "King Estal, your words are courteous," said Safara, bowing low to the King. "I ask for sanctuary in your kingdom from my brother, Baelgost." Such grace and beauty. Such humility. Her she was, the fairest of a race of gods, and yet she spoke to a mere mortal-


    No.


    "Why is it that you seek shelter from your brother, my lady?" asked Estal.


    "Because I have been forced to marry him," said Safara. "The decision was made without my consent when I was taken from my home at a young age. He is older than me by many years and cares nothing for me. His thoughts are only on blood and death, and yet I am forced to live with him. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I am a prisoner in my own home. A wife who is unwanted by her husband and yet is forced to abide with him."


    Cries of dismay and sympathy went throughout the hall. And William realized that many of the cries came from women as well as men. It seemed that gender was no object. Only Felix was unaffected. He merely looked even more furious and had one hand on his sword. William put a hand on his shoulder.


    "They''re almost breaking into tears," William murmured.


    "Your tale is one of woe, and I grieve for you," said Estal, seeming to be struggling. Yet... to give you sanctuary would be a grave risk." Estal must have been very strong of will. William had fended off the influence of Laughing Wraith, Arraxia, and Melchious, and yet he could hardly keep his sanity.


    "Calisha lusts for conquest by violence," said Aris. "They will seek war sooner or later. And if by doing so, we may aid a lady, Father, it seems to me that it is better to have it sooner."


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    This was absurd. This perfect creature, devoid of flaw or malice, must not be allowed to stay. The risk was too great. A will was pressed against him, but William forced himself to speak. "King Estal, if I might speak."


    "What is it, Sir Gabriel?" asked Estal.


    Sir Gabriel. He had not yet been formally knighted, but it seemed he was regarded as such. "Safara is the daughter of Baltoth. And if you grant her sanctuary, Baltoth will be enraged. His fleets will sail with the next tide, and war will rage with Calisha. Even if victory is gained, it will be at great cost, and there will be many more wars to fight.


    "Moreover, to do so in such a fashion would make you the aggressor on the world stage. It will be very difficult to rally support from the other Harlenorian Kingdoms."


    "And what would you have us do, then?" asked Estal, voice guarded.


    "Return her to Baltoth with gifts of apology. Stop this war before it begins," said William. "It..." He felt horrible. Here was this magnificent and utterly perfect creature, and he was trying to send her back. He could see her looking upon him without judgment, merely hurt. "It may save lives." He almost mumbled the last bit.


    Safara prostrated herself before Estal and set a hand on his foot. Shame came on William, and it was all he could do not to cringe. "I am at your mercy, King Estal. Baelgost may not want me, but his pride is such that should you send me back, I will die."


    "Let her stay!" cried someone.


    "My Lords, have you no shame!" came a sudden yell. The hateful advisor, whose name had been driven from William''s mind, came forward. "The creature we are speaking to is no maiden but the spawn of Baltoth himself! Allowing it to remain here is madness, yet returning it to Calisha will only allow it to continue to work its dark will!


    "Let us slay the beast and send its head to Baltoth in a challenge! His fleets will break upon our island like waves!"


    Several men put their hands to their swords while others cried in anger. But Estal raised a hand for silence. "Calm yourself, Esgroth. She is a guest in my house and will not be harmed by any within it. Whether we return her is another matter."


    Esgroth. What a hateful name. Safara was very good at this, wasn''t she?


    "Father, I would speak," said Aris.


    "Of course you may, my son," said Estal.


    "William Gabriel, you have said that we should be concerned for the honor of Baltoth," said Aris. "I ask you, what honor is that? He who ambushed and murdered Anoa IX without defiance sent. He who cowers behind armies of minions while safe in his palace. And war? We have been at war with Calisha for many long years, and Estal has never fallen. If he wanted to take this place, it would be the end of his Empire.


    "And for support, you speak as though Estal needs it? Long have we shielded the Harlenorian Kingdoms. We protected them from the raids of Viokin and Calishan alike. While your father spoke of peace and parleyed with the nemesis of Elranor, I was fighting at sea.


    "We are skilled at sea warfare more than any other nation of Harlenor. With cunning stratagems, we may well defeat the Calishan fleet at sea. And what if they prove stronger there? Estal is impregnable, and we do not need the imported luxuries. We are hard men and may hold out for many years.


    "And in that time, all of Harlenor will see us and be inspired. Baltoth will be drawn from one battlefield to another, and he will fail. Then, he must either withdraw his hand or suffer many other losses. Thus, in defeat, we shall deal him great harm."


    His words rang true. William almost cringed in shame. His gaze turned to Safara, whose brilliant eyes bored into him, pleading with him to see reason, to accept her. But he could not. He would not, though he yearned to. "You assume far too must. In war, nothing is certain. Baltoth will defeat your fleets and find some means to bypass or destroy Estal''s defenses. And even if all goes as you say, how can you be sure Harlenor will march to war?


    "We are not yet reunited as the prophecy says we will be. The Kings have their own affairs, and few men will gladly battle Baltoth without good reason. It may seem to some that you have provoked Baloth into a needless war. And you can be assured that Baltoth''s emissaries will say so."


    "No true man of Harlenor would ever take the word of an emissary of Baltoth over those of their brethren. And Estal is of great import. Without us, Calisha would have free reign of the seas. We are needed, and they will not let us fall." said Aris. "Indeed, your father may be of great service here. He has the ear of many Kings and has great influence. He will seek your deliverance should we be besieged with you fighting alongside us. So, by your very presence, you have done us great service."


    "One I am all too happy to provide," said William, feeling like crawling into a hole and dying. "But you are gambling your nation. Your Majesty, I have said my piece. The decision is yours and no others."


    King Estal remained silent. He looked to Aris, then William, then Esgroth. Finally, he looked upon Safara. His gaze settled longest on her. William knew the answer before it was spoken. "...I shall grant Safara sanctuary if she so desires it."


    "I do desire it," said Safara. Although he had made himself her opponent, William rejoiced inwardly. "However, good king, there is a way all may be satisfied."


    "Speak, my Lady?" said Estal.


    "His will made the marriage between myself and Baltoth," said Safara. "Therefore his will may unmake it. Prince Aris is as of yet unwed. If we were to be married, it would create a friendship between Calisha and Estal that would keep back the war."


    "You cannot consider this, my King," said Esgroth. "Would you have your grandchildren have the blood of Baltoth within them?" William felt less hatred for him now. He suspected this was another manipulation, though. Had he hated him to begin with?


    "I understand your hatred of my family," said Safara in a voice of infinite understanding. "There have been many years of a long war between our peoples. The scars from the battles fought are still fresh. Yet, doing this would avert the unhappy calamities that have hurt both our peoples.


    "Is there not more honor in a house built from strong foundations? Rather than setting afire to the house of your neighbors?


    "Estal has been of great help in waging war. Yet what if it was turned to matters of peace? With the friendship between Calisha and Harlenor, you would profit greatly from trade. And in so doing, you might be the beginnings of an avalanche of great kindnesses. One which in time could wipe away the blood that has been shed between fair Calisha and mighty Harlenor."


    Oh, so now that she had her way, she was in favor of peace. William felt horrible for thinking that. It didn''t make it any less true. Felix was visibly shaking with rage now.


    "What you say has some merit," said Estal. No, it didn''t. "Aris, will you wed her?"


    "I will," said Aris. "If it is your will."


    "Then we shall seek peace by these means," said Estal. "And if Calisha still seeks war, then the guilt of it shall lie on them."


    "King Estal, I have a request," said a voice.


    Estal looked up, and Mother entered the room. She was dressed for war and held a spear and shield. On her head was her silver helm that hit all but her eyes. She looked at Safara, seemed to think very little of her, and brushed past without a word.


    Safara flinched as though struck.


    "Yes, Lady Azgora, what is it?" asked Estal.


    "Allow me to fight alongside your armies in this glorious coming war," said Mother. "And continue to train your militias in the ways of war. In particular, among the outlying villages."


    Cheers came from the men.


    "You are most welcome, for I have heard the news of your achievements," said Estal. "The slaying of the Hydra Tiamus is a tale many merchants tell. And by all accounts, your valor is second only to Raynald De Chevlon in the service of Duke Vanion."


    Mother narrowed her eyes. "It is second to none."


    The meeting adjourned. William got as far away from the great hall as he possibly could. As he walked, he mulled over the situation. Safara''s beauty continued to trouble him. And the way her eyes had fallen upon him ever so briefly. She was almost pleading.


    William realized he desired her more than he had ever desired anything. And some part of him kept telling him that she desired him. It was absurd, unthinkable, but it kept pressing at him.


    He needed to get his mind off this. He looked to Felix, ever-present and glowering. "...Do you think it will work?"


    "No. Suloth might accept such a political marriage if Safara were unmarried," said Felix. "But if Aris thinks he can steal Baelgost''s wife and get a political marriage out of it, he will be disappointed."


    "Alright then," said William. Perhaps Aris would be killed in battle, and William could prove himself the hero of Estal. Perhaps- No, no, no. He was not even going to contemplate this. This was how Safara affected everyone. Or so he assumed. "Felix if you were going to try and avert a war without giving up Safara, how would you do it?"


    If they did not give her up, he could have her. Where had that thought come from? Oh, right, he knew where.


    "I couldn''t," said Felix. "If Safara is not returned, then Baltoth must act. If you press me, I suggest dealing enough defeats to make it not worth the effort. Then we could negotiate. However, this won''t be like Artarq. This time it is personal.


    "Baltoth will not be easily swayed from his attack. Defeat one fleet, and he will send another. Bar one passage to victory, and he shall take a different one. He will also likely call upon the Bats of Neseriah for this."


    William felt a chill. "Are you certain?"


    "Yes," said Felix. "Calisha hesitates to call upon the animal spirits that Baltoth had unions with. They are not easily replaceable. However, he will draw upon them for an insult like this."


    "Then I suppose we''ll just have to win," said William. Anything was possible. Elranor was his strength.


    "To hell with victory, William," said Felix. "My only hope is that we''ll be taken captive instead of slaughtered. We won''t be fighting King Banir, the easily duped. Suloth will send someone very competent, and he will bring with him his demons. We should get out while we still can. We may even face the Immortals."


    "I can''t do that," said William. That thought he knew to be real.


    "Then I''m not sure what else to tell you," said Felix. "I''m your servant. Not your keeper." There was bitterness in his voice.


    William owed him an apology. "... I''m sorry I struck you before. But you were out of line."


    "I am well aware who among us is superior. Never fear," said Felix. Why did he look amused?


    "What was I to do?" asked William. "Let you insult royalty unchallenged? He could have killed us both."


    Felix remained silent for a long, long time. "...Very little," he admitted at last.


    War was looming. And William could not escape the memory of Safara''s smoldering eyes upon him.

 Chapter Nineteen: The Will of Safara

    Weeks later, the letter said;


    William,


    I''ve done as you asked. No help will come from Escor. The Dragon Empire is invading through the southern pass. King Vortegex is fighting them. I''ve put out a call for mercenaries. Little response. Most are fighting in the Iron Kingdom.


    You have stabbed yourself in the foot.


    Sorry,


    Raynald.


    William had smiled when he read it. You could always rely on Raynald to be short and to the point in his letters. The withered-armed man hated reading and hated writing even more. He''d only learned because Rusara had forced him to learn. Now, he sat in a council of war as one officer after another made their reports.


    "Prince Aris, how fairs the army?" asked Estal.


    "My men are more than prepared," said Aris. "When the Calishans come against us, we''ll make them pay a dear price for it."


    "I thought we hoped to avoid a war," said William, though he never knew if it meant giving up Safara. Unless giving up Safara would bring peace, in which case he would give her up.


    William would do it in a heartbeat.


    She meant nothing to him. He''d hardly even seen her in the halls. However, the wedding somehow got lost. Somehow, once it had been decided on, the decision faded away from everyone''s minds.


    There was only a vague idea of gaining Baltoth''s blessing. It only flittered through his mind when he pressed the subject. And even that faded when he considered Baltoth''s blessing to ben''t very important. Where was he?


    "Wise men always prepare for war, even in peace," said Aris.


    Only an instant had passed, yet time always seemed to slow to a crawl when I thought about Safara, her perfect hair and shimmering coils that glistened brilliantly in the sun.


    "Esgroth, what news from the merfolk of the sea?" asked Estal.


    Was everyone affected by her? Or was it just William. He hadn''t noticed much change in everyone. Yet then he''d been able to function well despite the presence of Safara. His unyielding and unconditional love of her was there at all times. But it allowed him to keep his identity.


    She was benevolent like that.


    "It is worse than we expected," said Esgroth, who alone had been different. He''d been in a fouler mood than ever. He''d even had harsh words for Safara when they met in the halls. "No sooner had the Festival of the Hearth ended and the Calishans gathered their fleets. They will be ready to move before the month is out. They must have begun mobilizing as soon as Prince Aris'' ship had sailed."


    "Merfolk? Why would they help us?" asked William.


    "In my younger days, I had a number of adventures beneath the sea," said Esgroth. "In one of them, I saved the life of a daughter of the Shark Queen. In exchange, he brings me news of all the fleets which travel around Estal."


    "Indeed," said Estal. "By his very presence, Esgroth is invaluable to our wars."


    It was true then. Even the most unpleasant of people were capable of good. "What is our plan now? Do we wait here for the fleet to be mustered?"


    "How many ships do they number now?" asked Estal.


    "Nearly a thousand, my king," said Esgroth.


    "A thousand?" asked Estal, incredulous.


    "And it is growing larger by the week. Calisha is mustering vast forces," said Esgroth. "Baltoth will strike when he has overwhelming force. And his gathering of it tells me that he is determined to war on us."


    "Numbers are of no use if you cannot deploy them," said Aris, shaking his head. "If we engage the enemy well, we can use their strength against them."


    "There is one other thing, my King," said Esgroth.


    "Yes," said Estal.


    "There is a ship bearing the Emissary of Baltoth," said Esgroth. "No doubt she will demand the return of Safara and our subjugation."


    "We shall wait for her and negotiate when we speak," said Estal. "We may yet avert this war."


    William didn''t believe it for an instant. The only way that would happen was if Safara were returned, and she had worked her magic far too well for that. He wondered if it was a deliberate action on her part or if she merely made all who looked upon her love her.


    The latter seemed more likely. After all, one so perfect would never use magic to force people to act contrary to their interests. Not that it was against their interests to harbor Safara. Just to be stabbed to death by Calishans.


    "We cannot wait, Father," said Aris.


    "You have something to say, my son?" asked Estal.


    "Once Baltoth has mustered his fleet, he cannot send it back home," said Estal. "Now, without concessions on our part. At best, he will give us a chance to become his slaves in exchange for being spared.


    "War is all but declared."


    "I fear you may be correct, my son," said Estal. How quickly hopes for peace had been abandoned. "Young William, what news from Raynald De Chevlon?"


    It was his turn then. "I received a letter from him this morning. Here it is. Escor cannot come to our aid. They are fighting off an invasion from the Dragon Empire on their southern border. In time, we might gain help when those battles are over. But for now, we are on our own."


    "We should attack at once," said Tanith.


    "Tanith?" asked Aris. "Attack a fleet larger than ours and growing?"


    "Why not?" asked Tanith. The Calishan fleet is only going to get larger, and they think they are safe in their harbors. If we attack quickly, we could take them by surprise and even win before they set foot on Estal."


    "That is far too risky," said Estal. What if they hear about us?"


    "Well, why don''t we have Esgroth contact the merfolk and have them tell us where the fleets are," said Tanith. "We could be able to defeat Calisha''s fleet piecemeal."


    "Tanith is right," said Aris. "Our odds will only get worse as time goes on. This way, we might do serious damage and slow down their invasion. More time will mean we will be stronger."


    "Would you have us attack without defiance sent, my son?" asked Estal.


    "No," said Aris. "The emissary is coming here. Let her in. Welcome her politely and with all due courtesy. But declined her answer. Then, when she is in the palace, we may set out with our fleet at once. Once we are away, you''ll decline her offer.


    "We''ll also leave a large part of our army behind. In case the battle goes poorly. What I have in mind may be done with a few ships and many."


    "My son, as always, I am pleased with your daring," said Estal. Why did his words sound forced?


    "I don''t like this," said William. "It may not technically be dishonorable, but it is still deception."


    "Sometimes honor much come second to victory," said Aris.


    Or to peace. No doubt the scoundrel had tricked Safara into coming here. What was he thinking? Safara must have known what was happening.


    "We started this war to defend a lady''s honor," said William flatly. "Should we not fight it in an honorable fashion?"


    "Watch your tone with me, Gabriel," said Aris. "You may be a guest, but-"


    Estal raised a hand. Aris went silent. "Enough. Quarreling among ourselves will solve nothing. Safara is dear to my heart as she is to all of us, and we must do all we can to defend her. So, we will make our plans and work against Calisha. If it is to be war, it will be war."


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "King Estal, there is one other matter we must attend to," said William. "The cyclopi."


    "Ah yes," said Estal. "Do you believe we should ally with them?


    "I don''t think that is practicable," said William. "Peace may have been made, but it is much too soon to ask them to fight for you. However, it might be possible to hire them as mercenaries. And if that should fail, we should try to get their pledge that they will remain neutral in the conflict."


    "A wise policy, William," said Estal. "Will you take charge of this matter?"


    "Gladly, of course," said William. "But..." It pained him to say this. "King Estal, I realize that you care for Safara. However, if we may avert this war by returning her, should we not-"


    "I will not hear of it," said Estal. I realize you think only of peace. But peace, in some circumstances, means surrender. It would be the height of dishonor to return Safara now."


    William nodded. "Then I will speak with the cyclopi."


    "Oh, come on, William," said Tanith. "You''ll miss the opening battle."


    "Tanith, given my father''s stance, I would not feel comfortable joining the battle. Not if there is another way I may serve," said William. "Besides, this war won''t end in one battle.


    "Not by a long shot."


    Tanith seemed cheered up by this news. No one else shared her glee. William supposed he should be grateful for that.


    The meeting was adjourned. William once again walked the halls with Felix. And as he did, he felt an undeniable sense of frustration in the air. It was frustration with William. Something was pressing in on him.


    "Something is wrong here, Felix," said William. "One moment, Safara is an unwanted guest. Now everyone is gladly marching to war in her name." It pained him to even speak of it.


    "It''s her nature," said Felix.


    "What?" said William.


    "Everyone loves Safara. They can''t help it," said Felix. "Didn''t you find it strange that a half-demon with the snake''s body slithered off the dock?" S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    William realized that the idea hadn''t even occurred to him. "No. No, I didn''t, now that you mention it. All I could think of was how beautiful she was."


    "Exactly," said Felix. "She is like a snake staring down a mouse. Only instead of freezing them with fear, she does it with love. Instead of swallowing them whole, she consumes their hearts. She clouds their minds until they cannot think of anything but pleasing her."


    "I hope you are exaggerating," said William.


    Felix shrugged. "She was brought to Ruscow to control her, William. Back in the jungles of the East, she used her powers to control people. To make them act the way she thought they ought to act. Cities would join hands together and sing if she asked them to. And she did.


    "Eventually, she started to pick off villages in Neseriah''s domain, and there was a war between them. Safara lost and was brought back to Ruscow for judgment."


    "Why didn''t you say this before?"


    "Well, I might have," said Felix. "But you were so violently opposed to anyone speaking ill of her."


    "You''ve got to be joking," said William. You risked dooming an entire nation to a slavery of the mind because I struck you¡ªan act done because you were disrespectful to royalty¡ªan act for which I apologized."


    "No," admitted Felix. "It didn''t come to mind, truth be told. I haven''t been home in many years. And anyway, Safara affects me as well."


    Something was bothering William. "...Felix, you said you saw her when she was going to her wedding. Yet she said it happened when she was young. That must have been hundreds of years ago. Demons live a long time."


    "I lied to make myself more impressive," said Felix. "People do it all the time."


    "Except you don''t," said William. "When we were traveling through Seathorius after you burned that satyr village down. You went out of your way to make it seem as unimpressive as possible. I''ve known you half my life, and I still can''t read you." He paused and waited. But Felix didn''t answer. "Nevermind. So what do we do about this?"


    "What can we do?" asked Felix. "Then there will be a great war. If Estal wins, Safara will have the island wrapped around her little finger in a few years. If Calisha wins, we''ll be dead."


    William concluded. A conclusion so obvious it should have occurred to him some time ago. Yet it hadn''t. "... I''ll break the spell myself."


    Then his thoughts dimmed. A long, scaly tail came behind him, binding his arms to his side and bringing him around. It squeezed him tightly, covering his entire lower body. Then he was face to face with Safara. "Really, William, must you interfere?"


    His every thought seemed seeped in mud. For a moment, he could think of nothing¡ªnothing except how beautiful Safara looked. Then came the guilt for daring to resist her, for making something difficult, something easy.


    "Lady Safara, I presume Felix''s assessment was correct," William said. "Based on your presence."


    And then he felt the blood rush to his head as she wrapped her arms around him and pressed him into her bosom. He felt her full power on him now, pressing down around him. "I was young and did not understand things like free will, William. All I knew was that people loved me and would do anything for me when I set my mind to it. But I''ve changed since. I realize that people must be left to make their own choices.


    "I intend now to use my powers for the betterment of Estal, I promise you."


    She promised. Safara would never break a promise. He could feel her within him, her mind lovingly caressing his, trying to reshape his thoughts. He''d felt something like this before. Arraxia''s kiss had made his entire universe revolve around her as if she were the sole reason for being.


    But Safara was different. Safara induced love in people. Love of her, and through it, she brought focus to their lives. Made them improve themselves. Her control was for their betterment, not hers. He needed only to stop resisting.


    "Of course you do," William staggered out a response. "What happened to your marriage to Aris?" He tried to break free, but she squeezed him tighter. Her hands gripped his shoulder.


    "Don''t be foolish. Aris doesn''t love me," said Safara. "Not any more than anyone else, at any rate. No, Aris desires war with Calisha. He also lusts after me. Those two desires were fulfilled through me, as all desires are. King Estal desired that his son marry and settle down. I will fulfill that desire when the war is over."


    "Meaning that you''ll force him to," gasped William. He could hardly breathe.


    "Force him?" asked Safara, voice musical as her tail wrapped tighter around him. "No, merely influence. A careful nudge here, a flutter of the eyes here. I don''t force people to do anything. I just get them to see things my way."


    "And what about all the people who will die because of this?" asked William.


    She stroked his head as if comforting a distressed child. "It''s unfortunate. But in sixty to eighty years, most humans alive today will die. Their children and grandchildren will have taken their place. But at that same time, I may establish my own empire. An empire born of passion, not blood. Love, rather than hatred. I will change things for the betterment of all people rather than a few."


    "What makes you more qualified to rule than King Estal?" asked William.


    "I have studied the art of ruling from Suloth, William," said Safara. "You don''t have to worry. Why do you oppose me? I know that you hate violence. Wouldn''t it be better to see an end to all wars? Your father desires to establish permanent peace.


    "To stop all this conflict. To stop struggling."


    The last words were almost a command. William found his eyes closing. He felt like a child drifting off to sleep in his mother''s arms. Except Mother had never held him like this, had she? With good reason. She''d wanted him to be strong.


    Safara just wanted him to be compliant.


    Suddenly, he found he had more strength than he had thought. He opened his eyes fully and pulled himself back. He managed it despite her attempts to keep him near her. "My father desires power, not peace. And in the words of King Estal himself: In some circumstances, peace means surrender."


    Safara looked at him for a moment without expression. She seemed to be examining him. Finally, she set him down and released him. "You don''t bend to my will easily, do you?"


    "I''ve had a great deal of experience with this kind of thing," admitted William.


    "Well, you are strong of will, I must admit," said Safara. "I''ve heard you playing music for your chimera. It is excellent, and the will behind it is breathtaking. You were named well. However, I have been practicing my art, honing my skills for many centuries.


    "But your efforts are futile. I am the living incarnation of a power greater than any other. Love."


    "Hardly," said William.


    "Don''t you see?" asked Safara. "Love is eternal. Love is steadfast. Only love will remain when hell and heaven have fallen into nothingness. My power is not corruption, which can be washed away by the rain. It is a great tree that only flourishes by the ministrations of the just.


    "You should serve me. You are a man of great virtue and strength. Serve me, and I can show you passion and joy beyond the reach of any other emotion."


    Her will washed against him, stronger than ever. But William pushed back and was not swayed. "Get out of my mind. I worship Elranor and him alone."


    "And I''m simply not interested," said Felix.


    Safara sighed. "I can see you are stubborn about this. Well, it seems we are at an impasse, my friends. I cannot control either of you, yet neither can you defeat my influence."


    Then she turned and slithered away. Felix looked at William. "William, give the order, and her head will be at your feet."


    "I didn''t see you doing anything when she was binding me in her coils," said William.


    "I did try," admitted Felix. "Unfortunately, I am no more immune to her charms than you. You kill someone you find yourself loving more than life itself." He paused. "But if you want, I could try. It is a solution worth considering."


    "No," said William. "She is under King Estal''s protection. We cannot harm her directly. For now, we''ll speak with the cyclopi." He paused. "Felix."


    "Yes?" said Felix.


    "Why is it that every time I run into a demoness, they try to mind control me?" asked William.


    Felix seemed to consider the question. "Well, for one thing, you are a paladin of Elranor. So you are forbidden fruit and therefore more attractive for that. You are very handsome, so there is a physical appeal. You have a pure spirit; they fantasize about corrupting that. But at the same time, you have a dry wit which gives them the thrill of competition. And your skill at battle and intelligence means you''d be an excellent subordinate.


    "The female population of hell wants you as a pet. You''ll just have to live with it. Or let Arraxia put a collar around your neck. You''d probably enjoy it."


    William looked at him in irritation. "You came up with that list far too quickly."


    "I''ve had time to consider it," said Felix.


    "Once again," said Wiliam." What are we going to do about this?"


    "We could write to Suloth and ask how he controlled her all these years," mused Felix.


    "We both know that isn''t an option," said William. "Though we could write to Suloth and tell him Safara is mind-controlling the King. It might slow him down."


    "He probably already has guessed that much," said Felix. "Which is why he is already mobilizing. He knows Safara won''t be returned without a fight."


    William sighed. "...I think she might be out of my league."


    "Yes, Safara is of significantly higher birth, all things considered," said Felix. "You might qualify as a consort. I doubt she''ll limit herself to just Aris."


    "No, no, I mean there are other paladins," said William, ignoring the bait. "King Anoa is the head of an entire order of paladins. One of them has got to be strong enough to break the spell. And if not them. Rusara might manage it."


    "Gail Arengeth has the power," mused Felix.


    Gail Arengeth? The legendary eternal sorcerer. "His concern is mostly Escor, but I take your point. Even so, Rusara is probably stronger," William sighed. "It doesn''t matter anyway. What we have to do is win this war. Then we can write to King Andoa, and he can handle it."


    "Or we could lose the war, and Suloth will take care of things for us," said Felix.


    "There is that," said William. "Well, there is nothing we can do about it now, and we have a task from the King. Let''s get to it."

 Chapter Twenty: Fuel to the Fire

    Upon a dark throne on the peaks of the mountains of Kreshlak, Fortenex surveyed the war. There, he saw the white ships of Estal sailing swift and sure across the water. Led by the merfolk, they caught a fleet of Calishan ships in the harbor. A vessel was soaked with oil and set aflame.


    Fortenex''s champion steered the ship herself. It landed among the Calishans, and many were set to flame. Yet the winds were not favorable. No request came from Elranor, and much damage was done. Even so, many of the Calishan ships escaped the burning.


    Prince Aris'' fleet withdrew and was fast pursued. The battle was joined beneath the cliffs of the sword peninsula. Here, Prince Aris and Tanith did deeds of great valor. Fortenex smiled at them and gave them strength.


    Already, the two of them had boarded the fleet of a Calishan Lord. Tanith was hacking and slashing, smiling as she cut the limbs and heads off men by the dozen. Aris was behind her. He launched arrow after arrow, and each one found its mark. Behind him came the men of Estal, who washed over the defender''s broken line.


    Many widows in Calisha would long lament that day.


    "See how she fights, Karasush," said Fortenex, pleasedly. "With the savagery of a satyr and the skill of a knight, could I ask for a more suitable champion?"


    "I am glad for you," said Karasush. "But Elranor hasn''t used the wind."


    Fortenex felt a twinge of irritation at that. Must Karasush spoil the show? "I noticed Karasush. No doubt, he perceived that I wanted him to use it then. Perhaps he hopes to defeat Baltoth by traditional means. Though I''ve never taken Elranor for a fool."


    "He may be trying to conserve his advantage," said Karasush. "Wait until he has a larger fleet of Calishan ships to destroy. Or perhaps he has decided to sacrifice Estal to pursue his goal."


    "Why would he sacrifice Estal?" asked Fortenex. "The one that controls it controls the passages between Viokinar, Harlenor, and Calisha. It is of vital importance." sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Elranor is not interested in a full-scale war with Calisha," admitted Karasush. "Or so I guess. Duke Vanion is doing his work at the moment. Elranor will be in a powerful position if he can secure Viokinar as the new Harlenorian Kingdom."


    "Yet that does not answer my question, Karasush," said Fortenex.


    "I am thinking, milord," said Karasush. I think I have it. I believe that Elranor intends to force a stalemate with Calisha. Perhaps keep Estal out of their hands but satisfy them with some preferential treatment in trade. Reduce the ships that Estal is allowed to field, that sort of thing.


    "Either that or he believes Calisha is going to collapse because of unrelated forces. He may know something we don''t. Certainly, I can''t imagine him approving of Aris'' actions or holding any affection for Safara''s pleas."


    "A stalemate, then?" asked Fortenex. He''d never liked stalemates. There wasn''t nearly enough rape and murder in them as a one-sided massacre. "Yes, I could see Estal managing that. Duke Vanion would probably invite Suloth for tea and politely speak with him. Then he''ll convince everyone that a mass bloodletting isn''t worth their time. And wouldn''t it be nice if they could all pretend to be friends?"


    "Duke Vanion would be hard-pressed to it," said Karasush. "This is no raid upon a Calishan village. Aris has kidnapped the daughter of Baltoth. Whether she gave consent doesn''t matter.


    "No, this is a question of honor. So it will be single combat that ends this story."


    Fortenex laughed. "Single combat? I wouldn''t say I like the sounds of that. Explain yourself, Karasush."


    "Vanion''s best hope for making peace is for the war to cost Calisha dearly and drag on," said Karasush. "When enough blood has been spilled, he can suggest Aris and Baelgost fight in single combat. For the hand of Safara, of course.


    "Whoever wins will keep her."


    "That won''t resolve things, Karasush, and you know," said Fortenex. "Calisha isn''t launching hundreds of ships to watch a fight. Baltoth will want to get something out of this."


    "You are right, of course," said Karasush. "Vanion will no doubt work out a favorable deal which will go into effect either way. The fight is merely part of the narrative. So that when Calisha returns home, they can describe the epic final duel. The battle where Baelgost slew Aris and reclaimed his stolen wife.


    "Instead of Vanion offering them a trade deal to go away.


    "Narrative, my friend, is nearly as important to politics as the deal." He paused. "...I do not mean-"


    "No, it''s all right, Karasush," said Fortenex. "You''ve been indispensable long enough to warrant the status.


    "Now the question remains, what are we to do about this?"


    "Lord Fortenex, there is no surety that things will even reach that point," said Karasush. "Calisha may well destroy Estal before the cost becomes high enough."


    "Yes, of course, things may go like that," said Fortenex. A resolve came to him. "We''ll have to make sure that doesn''t happen."


    "And how will we do that? Summon the winds?" asked Karasush.


    "Unfortunately, no. I do not want to be seen openly opposing my brother," said Fortenex. If Elranor had demanded it, I could use the winds against him and just claim I was fulfilling my obligations. However, if I enter the war on Elranor''s side, I invite reprisals.


    "No, we must be cunning.


    "How are our wars with the colonists going?"


    And he looked there. He saw Grendesh fighting with a group of adventurers. The steel-handed giant had clubbed in two of their heads and was now working on a third. Yet elsewhere, a small, white-bearded sorcerer was setting satyrs and giants on fire. He bore the symbol of Magicora, a white dove flying before the sun. Then, there was a fortified village holding out against a siege. Spearmen were holding a line against waves of satyrs.


    "We have seized a great deal of land, Lord Fortenex," said Karasush. "Grendesh is proving just as deadly with his new hand as with the old one. However, Duke Vanion has several critical battles that have thrown us back.


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    "Fortunately, Vanion can''t use his advantage. He''s too busy trying to reorder what is left of the Iron Kingdom. He has been given the problem of knitting together a society that was coming apart before we gutted it."


    "Then he will gladly seek a truce," said Fortenex. "Go to King Byran and seek peace."


    "King Byran?" asked Karasush.


    "Yes. I don''t want Duke Vanion to be regarded as the King in all but name," said Fortenex.


    "Talking to Byran will undercut his authority."


    "Byran is far less reasonable than Vanion," Karasush warned him. "He hates satyrs and giants. His entire career has been spent fighting them."


    "Yes, but Vanion will convince him to agree," said Fortenex. "That makes Vanion an advisor. Not a power behind the throne."


    "It will take far more than that to undermine Duke Vanion''s authority, milord," said Karasush. "Byran relies on him for support."


    "True," conceded Fortenex. "But the greatest wars always result from the smallest of differences. By resolving our feud with Vanion, we open the door for him to begin bringing pressure on Baltoth to end the war.


    "That will take him out of our hair and advance our goal."


    "You contradict yourself, milord," said Karasush. "You want the war to continue as long as possible. Yet to want Vanion to begin negotiations."


    "The best wars are the ones which continue despite negotiations," said Karasush. "Where the efforts of the meek and the peaceful fail and the flames of wrath burn ever brighter. Thus will all the land be reduced to ashes, and the burning scent shall reach heaven."


    "...You believe that a failed negotiation will escalate the conflict," guessed Karasush.


    "If I must be plain, yes," said Fortenex. "If the wars go on long enough, Vanion will have to throw his support behind Estal or be discredited. That is what we are aiming for."


    "And how will we ensure the war goes on?" asked Karasush.


    Karasush could always be relied on to keep Fortenex focused. "With a daring rescue, of course. One that cannot be traced back to us. Take charge of things, Karasush. I have a meeting with a long-estranged daughter." And he rose from his throne.


    "There is one other thing, milord," said Karaush. "With the Void Stone destroyed, we cannot open portals. We may have to start from scratch."


    Fortenex smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "Worry not, Karasush. The Void Stone was merely the shell around the true artifact. So long as the coming war is bloody enough, we should be able to improvise a solution."


    "Is that why you will meet Arraxia?" asked Karasush.


    Fortenex sighed. "No. I''ll let her draw her conclusions regarding the shard of the Hellfire Jewel. Melchious and I put a great deal of effort into getting that piece into this world. She can discover the mystery herself. I have other business with her."


    He did not take his chariot this time. He didn''t want to stir up any winds. Instead, he transported himself into the midst of Baltoth''s retribution. There, he found groups of satyrs dancing around a circle of bonfires. They howled and cried out in victory.


    As he stepped into the light of the fire, all the dancing stopped. Into view came a huge albino satyr. He was missing one hand and had many scars on his chest. However, he held a spear in one hand and pointed it forward.


    "Fortenex," said Doltier.


    "A battle happened here recently. And yet only three beings died," said Fortenex. "I don''t smell death on any of you. What have you been doing for the past few months?"


    "Our mistress took the Dreaming Goddess captive," said Doltier.


    "Very well," said Fortenex. "Bring me to her."


    "I have been instructed that if you came asking for her, you were to find her yourself," said Doltier.


    "Are you mocking me?" asked Fortenex.


    "If Arraxia intended for you to interpret it as mockery, then yes," said Doltier flatly.


    Fortenex paused. "I like you," he decided. "I''ll find her myself."


    He walked into the fortress, and wherever he went, satyrs scrambled to get out of the way. He sensed that this place was coursed with his daughter''s power and the Dreaming Goddesses. How had she managed to ally with them?


    He entered the throne room. Arraxia was lounging on her throne. His axe lay across her knees, and in one claw was clasped a small fragment of a red gem¡ªthe piece of undiluted power around which the Void Stone had been built. Did she even realize the potential of that artifact? If she did not, he had no intention of enlightening her.


    Yet best of all was what lay above. Floating in a blue crystal was the Dreaming Goddess. Her hair was flowing around her, and her expression was peaceful. There was his answer.


    "I am told you go by Arraxia of late," said Fortenex. "Or was it Saphra?"


    Arraxia looked up. "Fortenex. What the angel do you want?"


    "To see my interests advanced," said Fortenex. "And to gain vengeance for your mother. Both these things may be advanced through you."


    "How wonderful for you," said Arraxia, looking to be in a bad mood. "What is that to me?"


    "Well, I can''t help but notice that your plans have gone awry," said Fortenex. "The Void Stone is destroyed, and with it, all the souls you might have used for your own ends are gone. You still have the Axe of Fortenex, yet it has not yet fully responded to you.


    "Does it?"


    "I noticed," said Arraxia.


    "Do you know why I deny you full access to it? What do you lack that Melchious has?" asked Fortenex.


    "There is nothing," said Arraxia.


    "Blood on your hands," said Fortenex. "My servants are those who cause untold destruction and death. I value the smiling chancellor who orders the execution of a village as much as a berserker.


    "Melchious achieved his goals, and I respected that. But how he achieved them is where he truly became favored. The enemies were slaughtered, and the nations were put to the sword. These things I delighted in.


    "You lack that same thirst for blood."


    "I thirst for power. And I achieve it in whatever way I can," said Arraxia. "Causing massacres isn''t in my interest."


    "True enough. I respect that," said Fortenex. "However, I cannot condone what you have done to this land. Melchious turned these satyrs into the most bloodthirsty and vicious of all creatures. And you are well on your way to pulling their teeth."


    "They are mine, Fortenex," hissed Arraxia. "Not yours. I will shape them into whatever form pleases me. And if you try to interfere, I''ll destroy you and all of the animals you call wives."


    "Well spoken, daughter," said Fortenex. "I had begun to give up hope for you. Yet if you are to wield the Axe of Fortenex, you must cause death on a far greater scale than you are now."


    "You want me to do something for you," guessed Arraxia. "What is it?"


    "Why, march to war, of course," said Fortenex. "No doubt you''ve heard of the war coming to Estal."


    "News came to me of it, yes," said Arraxia. "The Dust Elves sent word."


    "Calisha is very likely to win and win quickly," said Fortenex. "However, if reinforcements were to be brought to Estal, the war might well have been extended a great deal."


    "You want me to enter into a brutal war of attrition with Calisha, leaving my domain exposed to the Nakmar and the elves," said Arraxia.


    "Queen Kiyora is naive and foolish," said Fortenex. She will not take advantage of such an opening. Moreover, can''t you sense it? Your saints are restless. For years, they have lived for blood and death. Yet now there is peace if a false one.


    "Soon enough, this false peace will fall to pieces. When that happens, there will be war anyway.


    "No. You need something to satiate their bloodthirst. And Estal is the perfect target."


    "What are you offering me in return?" asked Arraxia.


    "I''m giving you a chance to impress me, Arraxia," said Fortenex. "A chance to wield the full might of the Axe of Fortenex. With all this to gain, I''m sure you can find a way to secure your borders while your fleets sail to war."


    Arraxia seemed considered it. "...I want something more."


    "Hmm?" said Fortenex.


    "Well, in truth, I could stay here and do nothing, and my power would not diminish," said Arraxia. "On the other hand, if you don''t stop Baltoth from taking Estal, you''ll face many problems. No, I want something else."


    "What can a Father do for his daughter?" asked Fortenex.


    "I haven''t decided yet," admitted Arraxia. "When I decide, I''ll call you."


    "A little overconfident, aren''t we?" asked Fortenex.


    "Well, it is part of my charm," said Arraxia.


    "I remember now why your mother was my favorite," said Fortenex. "Don''t disappoint me, Arraxia." Then he turned to walk out.


    "You know the name you gave me," said Arraxia. "The least you could do is use it."


    "I don''t. I''ve quite forgotten it," admitted Fortenex. "You haven''t been important enough to warrant my attention until now. What is it?"


    Arraxia looked at him in silent fury. "..."...Then I have no intention of telling it to you."


    "Fair enough," said Fortenex.


    And he walked away.


    "Where are you going now?" asked Shamans.


    "I''m going to pay my shamans in the Islands of Power a visit," said Fortenex. I think it is time some of my other worshippers were spurred into action." Then he was gone.

 Chapter Twenty-One: The Bats of Neseriah

    It was an ordinary tavern within one of the villages of Estal. It stood next to the defensive wall which surrounded the settlement. William and Eitrigg ate together, Felix in the shadows silent, eating sparingly.


    "William, do you truly believe you can convince the Cyclopi to take our side?" asked Eitrigg. William considered his answer. He''d already given it a lot of thought. I believe I can. That doesn''t mean I''ll manage it. Father could."


    His answer seemed to surprise the priest. "We have been at war with them for years. Why would they choose our side so quickly?"


    "The enemy of my enemy is my friend," said William. "That is the most basic kind of alliance, Eitrigg. If their fear of the Calishans exceeds their hatred of us, there is the possibility of an alliance."


    "I don''t doubt many among them hate and fear us more," noted Eitrigg.


    "But they know you," said William. "They are familiar with the people of Estal. They know where they stand. If Calisha takes over this place, they do not know where they will stand. Thus, there is the fear of the unknown. And there is also the fear of power."


    "Fear of power?" asked Eitrigg.


    "Yes," said William. "Estal is far weaker than Calisha. If an all-out war were to break out between you and the Cyclopi, they would not stand a chance of victory. Yet, if Calisha conquers Estal, the dynamic will change. The Calishans could send one army after another at the Cyclopi until they fell.


    "Better to keep the Calishans off the island, to begin with. At least that is what I would do."


    "And if we are defeated?" asked Eitrigg.


    "If the war goes badly, the Cyclopi can withdraw from the alliance ahead of time," said William. "Negotiate for their independence with Calisha while Baltoth is dominant but not victorious. In doing so, they would ensure Calishan victory and get a more favorable deal.


    "After all, the cyclopi aren''t the ones who kidnapped a daughter of Baltoth from Ruscow. This war isn''t anything personal."


    "You think about these things a great deal, don''t you?" noted Eitrigg.


    "Lady Rusara and Lord Raynald instructed me on many things," said William. "And my father wrote me many letters of advice. War was a principal subject."


    "War?" Eitrigg smiled. "Surely this is the peace we''re discussing."


    "Eitrigg, I''ll let you in on a lesson Father taught me," said William. "Most wars are won long before the first blow is struck. Miraculous victories that turn the tide are just that: miraculous. Usually, the one who wins the battles is the one who positioned themselves in a better spot ahead of time."


    "I can''t believe this training regime!" said a loud voice.


    William turned his attention. Two boys his age were sitting across from eachother on a table. He guessed by their bearing that they were nobles. One had short black hair and long sideburns. The other wore his long and brown and was staring into his mug. "You can say it until the mountain falls, Ensor," the brown-haired one said. "It won''t change things."


    "That Azgora bitch had us training all day with hardly any sleep," said Ensor. "Even in the Feast of the Hearth. It''s all well and good to put the commoners through it, but I''m a noble. Someone ought to teach her a penetrating lesson.


    "I''d like to do it myself."


    William put his hand to his sword. Felix''s hand fell on it in a warning. Their eyes met. Felix was telling him not to be reckless.


    "I''m not any happier about it than you," said the brown-haired one. "But we are our father''s son. If it comes to battle, we''ll have to command them. I''ve learned more these past two weeks than I have in years."


    "Who cares about that, Soren?" asked Ensor. "The war always comes down to the knights and the mercenaries. We''ll only end up on the field of battle if Father lets us join the fleet. The best we''ll get is fighting outlaws and bandits. And the Cyclopi do a pretty good job of that.


    "Still, if nothing else, Azgora has a pair of legs worth looking at. And those breasts. I could-"


    William broke Felix''s grip, drew his sword, and, before he knew what was happening, put it to Ensor''s throat. "Before you say another word, remember you are speaking about my mother."


    Ensor looked at him, flinching. "I... I was just talking, you know. I didn''t mean any harm in it."


    "You are speaking to the son of the Lord Asborn, who rules this land," said Soren. He stood and placed a hand to his own sword.


    "Sir, I do not care if I am speaking to a Prince of Harlenor Reunited or a god in human form," said William. "No man has a right to speak of a lady in that fashion." Of course, that was somewhat hypocritical. He was guilty of the same fault as Safara. But in his defense, he hadn''t been in the best state of mind. In fact, she had probably driven him to it.


    "We will speak as we wish in our own lands," said Soren.


    Then his blade was out. William clashed swords with him, and they fought back and forth. In a moment, he had driven Soren off his legs. But before he could put the blade to his throat, Ensor had drawn his own weapon and engaged him.


    The two brothers went to William with blades. What had William been thinking?


    At that moment, Eitrigg stepped between them. "All of you, stop it! This isn''t the time or place!"


    Soren blinked. "Eitrigg? Why are you standing up for this rascal?"


    "There are enemies enough to fight without killing each other, Soren," said Eitrigg. "Now, both of you put your swords away. In a day, William and I will depart, and you need not see each other again."


    Reluctantly, they sheathed their weapons. Ensor looked at Eitrigg. "What brings you out here?"


    "King Estal wishes us to establish an alliance with the Cyclopi," said Eitrigg.


    "Cyclopi?" asked Ensor. "We don''t need their sort."


    "King Estal is right, Ensor," said Soren. "Every bit helps, and anyway, if I have to choose between an even fight and an easy victory, I choose the latter."


    "Personally, I''d rather avoid a fight altogether," said Eitrigg. "But that doesn''t seem likely anymore."


    "I wish you hadn''t sworn off violence," said Soren. "If it does come to war, I''d like to have you by our side."


    Eitrigg smiled. "You both learned your sword lessons well enough to do without me, Soren. Innkeeper, bring us another round. William, will you sit with us?"


    William said nothing for a moment. Eitrigg looked at him carefully, and Ensor and Soren seemed none too enthusiastic. Still, he supposed it could not hurt to be courteous. "If Ensor apologizes for the way he spoke of my mother, yes."


    Ensor looked at him with narrowed eyes. "... I''m sorry," he said finally, voice unapologetic. "I wasn''t aware you were related."


    "You are forgiven," said William, not feeling it. Even so, the gesture had been made.


    So it was that they all sat down. Eitrigg talked with Ensor and Soren of many things. Eitrigg had been something of an idol to both boys¡ªeven helping them learn swordplay. It was somewhat like Raynald had been to him.


    Yet inevitably, the conversation turned to Safara. William described her arrival in full. Ensor seemed particularly interested in William''s description of her. In fact, as soon as Safara was mentioned, there was almost a change in the room. William noticed that several other groups turned their conversation to her.


    "Eitrigg is it true that Princess Safara has the lower body of a snake?" asked Ensor.


    "It is," said Eitrigg. "Though it doesn''t come to mind when you are in her presence."


    "What does come to mind?" asked Ensor, looking too eager.


    "An unreasonable and unyielding passion," said Eitrigg. "Love, or perhaps blinding lust. She inspires it by her very presence. Love in particular."


    "Sounds like a real beauty," said Ensor. He was practically salivating. He was really an animal, wasn''t he?


    "She is," said Eitrigg. Why did he have that faraway look in his eye?


    "Prince Aris really caught a wild one this time," said Ensor. Why did everyone have such a faraway look in their eye?


    "This time?" asked William, speaking for the first time.


    "Well, he''s a Prince," said Ensor. "He may not be married, but he has his entertainments. We all do, really, but he has many of them. I heard once that he took three to his bed. The man has serious endurance."


    "Well, he''s going to marry her, so I hope he will curb his passions," said William, liking Aris less and less by the moment.


    "Maybe he will," said Soren. "He''s nearing forty."


    "Yeah," said Ensor, "Aris might settle for one of the best instead of half a dozen." He seemed to think he had said something funny. There was dead silence.


    Don''t cut his head off. Don''t cut his head off. "I don''t-" began William.


    And then there was a strange sound. It was a sort of ''thumps." It resounded through the room and grew louder and louder. William listened keenly.


    "What is that noise?" asked Eitrigg. "Are those wings?"


    Wings. What kind of wing made that noise? Dragons?


    Felix scrambled suddenly to the window and threw it open. He stared out at the sky, and William came behind him. There, flying over the island, were many flights of huge winged rodents. Each one carried a massive basket beneath them. There were men within the baskets. Soon the flights broke off to each fly toward a different settlement.


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    "Neseriah!" cried Felix. "The bats of Neseriah are here!"


    Felix sounded afraid. And if Felix was showing fear, it meant nothing good. Eitrigg turned to the others. "Ensor, Soren, rally the militia and send word. Man, the walls and get all you''re fighting men ready for combat. And someone has to tell your father that the Calishans are invading by air."


    At once, they nodded and broke off. Eitrigg commanded a great deal of respect in these parts to be obeyed so quickly. William looked to Felix. "Felix, help me get my armor on. We need to be ready."


    As Felix helped William put on his armor, he watched through the window. In the street, he saw men scurrying with spears and shields. Some were donning their armor. Others were carrying arrows to the walls. The ringing of bells was everywhere, and theirs was not the only village.


    From that second-story window, William saw the bats fly over the capital of Estal. Arrows were launched at them. Some fell, and when they landed, great fire explosions burst into view above the walls. Fires started in the city. Other bats were not hit, and these had men in the baskets hurl caskets down that exploded with the same force.


    A similar scene was happening throughout the villages. The bats that unloaded their lethal cargo swerved away to land beyond sight.


    After he finished donning his armor, William put on his helm and rushed out into the street. As he did, he saw the bats coming toward the village. The same caskets were hurled, but Eitrigg clasped his hands in prayer and spoke a word.


    William couldn''t make the word out, but he felt hope and determination well within his heart. A great sphere appeared around Eitrigg and grew larger and larger. Soon it encompassed the entire town. The caskets hit it and exploded into flame, the sparks going out in moments.


    The bats shrieked in anger and wheeled around to fly away. They hadn''t dropped as many caskets as the others had. Instead, they were keeping them in reserve. They were clearly intelligent.


    William stared at Eitrigg. "How did you do that?"


    "A spell I learned from King Andoa," said Eitrigg. "My power pales in comparison to his, of course. But I''ll teach it to you later. Now come to the walls. The Calishans will be marching against the town soon." He looked very tired. William was afraid he wouldn''t be able to do that again.


    He looked to a group of people looking terrified. "You folk, don''t just stand around," said Eitrigg. "Form the fire brigade and prepare to put out any flames that the bats cause. Go quickly and prioritize the granary."


    "Prioritize?" asked a woman.


    "Focus on the granary!" said Eitrigg. "Go! Every moment counts!


    William looked at Felix. "Come on."


    William suddenly realized what was happening. He was about to fight in his first battle. He knew he should feel eager or scared, but nothing came to him.


    He didn''t have time for this right now.


    He reached the gate and found Ensor yelling commands as the militia assembled into a group by the gate. Soren was standing on the gate with the archers, and with him was a tall, brown-bearded man. When a call came in, he approached Ensor. The archers were launching their missiles.


    William ran quickly up the wall and looked out over the fields. There a large force of Calishans had assembled. Several hundred in number, he guessed. They were approaching the gate and had raised shields into a tortoise formation. Arrows bristled from many of the shields as they approached.


    He looked to Soren and the man. A soldier approached them. "Lord Asborn, the Calishan formation is too strong for us to break with arrows."


    "They are more skilled than most," said Asborn. "No matter. They have no siege equipment. We need only hold them here."


    "Lord Asborn," said William.


    "Yes?" asked Asborn. "Who are you?"


    "I am William Gabriel, the son of Azgora," said William. "I wish to join your warriors in the front."


    "Very well," said Asborn. "Every bit helps. You, get this man a spear. Yet who is this Calishan?"


    "He is my servant," said William. "I trust him with my life."


    "Well, you can get him off my walls," said Asborn. "Your mother has a way with drilling troops, but I don''t like any of those Calishans."


    "Felix, you''d best head down to the streets," said William as he received a spear. "We don''t want trouble." He was not in a position to correct this man''s ignorance.


    Felix nodded, and they made their way down the steps. There, they found Ensor standing before his men in full armor. "Listen to me, all of you!


    "The Calishans are right outside this gate! If they break through, it''ll be up to us to stop them! And if we don''t stop them, they''ll kill every man! Your woman will be their slaves, and your children will be thrown to the wolves! And if any man flees from battle and we are victorious, I''ll have him hung, drawn, and quartered as a deserter!


    "Do you understand?"


    "Yes, milord!" came the reply in unison.


    William approached Ensor with his spear. "Permission to join the ranks?"


    "Just take a damn position and stop wasting my time, you idiot!" said Ensor quickly.


    "Right," said William. It had been a foolish question.


    Then they heard the chanting. "Calisha! Calisha! Calisha! Calisha!"


    On and on it went, getting louder and louder. And as the chanting continued, more bats dived and dropped caskets. They landed amidst the streets and exploded. The fire brigade was soon put to work.


    William quickly took his place in the line. He picked a spot next to Ensor at the right of the line. It seemed only appropriate since he was nobility. As one, they locked their shields and lowered their spears toward the gate. The chanting grew ever nearer.


    This was it, William''s first battle. He''d seen small skirmishes before. But he''d never faced the real thing, the clash of entire armies. He shifted and licked his lips, trying to quell his anticipation. He should be scared. But it could hardly be worse than anything he''d seen already. And he could win true glory here.


    "Calisha! Calisha! Calisha! Calisha!"


    And then the gate exploded. The entire wall shuddered as stones were thrown into the air. The shock of it nearly knocked William from his feet. Several other men were thrown and had to be helped up. A single Calishan sorcerer stood there, a blade in hand.


    And past him came the assembled ranks of the Calishans. They formed up with astonishing speed. Their shields were raised, and their spears were lowered. They charged forward, and battles were joined.


    William caught a spear on his shield and stabbed at the man across from him. His spear glanced off the side of the helm and had to block another stab. William lunged again, and this time, he got the man in the shoulder. His enemy screamed and fell backward, yet he was dragged back. Another took his place.


    William saw Ensor put his spear through the eye of a Calishan to his right. To his left, one of his militia fell to the ground, a spear in his gut. The next man in line nearly tripped over him, and he lay screaming on the ground as the battle went on. Stones were cast down from above onto the Calishans. But those in the rear lines had raised their shields to ward off such attacks.


    Quicklime might have worked. But there had been no time.


    As William fought, he found his mind drifting. How was it that they had broken the gate so easily? Even Rusara would have had trouble destroying a city gate. Unless she had...


    Malas.


    The very substance on which Father had based his truce was now being used against them.


    Suddenly, there was an explosion in the middle of the line. Men were sent flying, and William saw a leg land near him. The formation was scattered and broken. In a moment, the Calishans would charge, and they would be lost!


    Then a shield of blue light appeared before the Calishans. It barred their path. They beat on it, trying to force it down. It began to flicker and fade. But it was enough time for Ensor to rally his forces. The formation was recreated. William took the chance to kneel by the injured man he''d seen before and healed him. Then he took his place.


    The shield was breaking. But before it could break entirely, its center opened up. The Calishans there pressed forward through the breach ahead of their comrades.


    "Charge!" cried Ensor.


    The militia surged forward, and the shield wall broke. But too late for the enemy! The Calishans had lost their formation in their haste. Arrows and stones shot down on them, and many fell. Then they were forced backward by the charge.


    And yet they were bolstered, for new troops came forward. They were huge and wielded great scimitars. As they marched, their very presence sent a ripple through the lines. The Calishans roared battle-cries and fought like mad. Once again, they changed the name of their nation.


    One of the figures came to the front of the line. As he emerged from the shadow of the gatehouse, the line nearly broke. He had the face of a tiger, and his hands were clawed. His armor was as white as snow, with eyes that blazed with gray flame.


    "Immortals!" cried one of the men. "Calishan Immortals are here!"


    The Immortals sprang forward into the line, leaping over the spears to land among the men. Many fell headless beneath the strikes of their scimitars. William saw one surging toward him and raised his shield. The blow sent him to his knees, but he stabbed upward. He felt his spear pierce something and looked up to see that he had gotten the immortal through the gut.


    He nearly lost his head, avoiding the next stroke. His spear was broken, and the immortal came at him. Drawing his sword, William parried. Lashing out with his shield, he bashed the immortal with the edge, and as it fell back, he delivered a blow to its neck. The beast dropped to one knee, spurting blood, and drove its scimitar into his side.


    William screamed in agony but brought around his blade for a final swing. It cut the head from the creature. Then he fell to one knee, pulled out the scimitar, and set about healing it. But the wound kept bleeding, and it was knitting very slowly. Some magic within the sword worked against his skills, fighting him for every inch of health. The pain was gone.


    Looking around, he saw the battle had devolved from stalemate into a vicious melee. And they were losing. The men on the walls had taken up swords and spears and come to help, but it was only slowing things down. The immortals were everywhere and nowhere, killing at will.


    The men of Estal fought on and caused much harm to the enemy. But the enemy was just as desperate. Never in history had an immortal retreated in the face of the enemy. Nor did they suffer their minions to retreat.


    The village would fall.


    And then Massacre arrived. She leaped through the ruins of the gate, breathing fire into the midsts of the Calishans. Tightly packed as they were, dozens in the back ranks screamed as they were burnt alive. An immortal rushed against her, but she stepped aside from her thrust. Then, her goat head drove its horns into the immortal''s stomach. Even as the creature fell, her paws and lion heads savaged him. And all the while fire was poured into the enemy ranks. Dozens of Calishans screamed as flames burned their bodies.


    It was the last straw. The immortals were slain, and the men of Calisha fled.


    Cheers came from the men as William finished healing himself. But they quickly fell quiet. The field was littered with dying and dead men. Screams and groans from the wounded were everywhere.


    The Calishans were escaping. But they could not pursue it, not like this.


    William forced himself to stand and began to walk among the wounded. He healed all he could. However, he quickly learned that those struck by immortals took far too much effort to heal. Small cuts resisted his efforts and took immense work to fix. Eventually, he settled on healing ordinary wounds, hoping the others would last. There was no shortage of either.


    He also healed the Calishans. While working on them, he saw Ensor raising a spear to stab one of them where he lay.


    "Ensor, stop what you are doing!" called Eitrigg, appearing.


    "He''s a filthy Calishan!" said Ensor.


    "He''s a prisoner of war," said Eitrigg. "We should take their weapons and bind them."


    "Do as he says, Ensor," said Asborn, appearing. "I don''t like the Calishans anymore than you. But they may be worth a ransom. We''ll need the money to repair the buildings they burned. They nearly got the granary."


    "You handle the ordinary wounds, William," said Eitrigg. "I will take those wounded by immortals."


    The work took hours. And many died despite their efforts. Even so, William saved many and did not regret his presence. It was a small victory, but still a victory.


    Later, as William looked at the face of his last patient, one he hadn''t been able to save, he sighed. He heard a conversation from Ensor, who was speaking to Soren. "This was a damn, narrow thing. If that Azgora broad hadn''t forced us to drill during the Feast of the Hearth, we''d all be dead."


    Fury welled up in him, and he reached for his sword, only to stop. There was no sense in challenging him. Enso might have been deeply unpleasant, but without him, the town might have been ashes.


    William looked at one of the blackened structures. Felix and Eitrigg picked their way through the wreckage toward him. It already was ashes, wasn''t it?


    And then he heard the beating of wings. Looking up, he saw a figure. Yet it was not a bat. It had a bat''s wings, though. At first, he thought it was Arraxia. But the claws were smaller, and there was no tail. In their hand was a black staff.


    "That is Neseriah," said Felix.


    "She''s flying directly toward the mountain of the Cyclopi," said Eitrigg. "It seems you are not the only one to have this idea."


    Massacre approached and nuzzled William. It might have been comforting, but she was covered in blood and guts. William pulled some torn entrails off her face and scratched behind her ears to calm her. "Massacre, I need you to take Felix and me to the cyclopi at once. If we''re not fast, we may be fighting a war on two fronts."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Yes, I will play music for you," said William.


    He and Felix got onto Massacre, and the chimera rushed off. She ran with great strides, covering vast distances with every bound. The figure of Neseriah eventually dove down and disappeared from sight. Higher and higher on the mountain they went. Then Felix tapped him on the should.


    "Look there, William," he said, pointing downhill. "The villages are burning." sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    William did look. And he saw that the battle they had just fought was only one of many. Many Calishan hosts were marching against many villages. Several had already been burned to ash, and from these, the Calishans were marching to aid the others. Yet some communities, such as Asborn''s, had held out. These sent their militia to help the others.


    All-out war had begun.


    Before the night was out, there would be many smaller battles. Victories and defeats. And yet, this was only the beginning, wasn''t it?


    "I hope Mother is among them," said William. "If anyone can lead them to victory, it is her. Come, we must reach the Cyclopi. Go Massacre! Get us to King Themos!"


    Massacre ran with even greater speed. And as she did, William felt a sudden surge of pride. He had fought in his first battle. He had emerged victorious. He had killed a Calishan immortal.


    Mother would be proud.

 Chapter Twenty-Two: Negotiations and Shadows

    By the time they came within sight of the Cylcopi wall, the trees had hidden the fires. As they went into the clearing, they found many bats perched upon the walls. The cyclopi seemed to be speaking with them.


    As Massacre came forward, Kronel greeted them. "Sir William, we were not expecting you. What business has brought you to our domain?"


    "I wish to speak to the King," said William. "I desire to arrange an alliance against Calisha. Or at the very least ensure that our peoples do not march to war against one another again." He eyed the bats warily.


    "You are the second creature to come before us with that as your intention," said Kronel. "One of you will be disappointed. Yet that is King Themos'' affair. Open the gates. Let him in.


    "We''ll hear the King''s mind soon enough."


    The gate was hauled open. William dismounted from Massacre, and he and Felix walked through. They were led to the cave and once more stepped into it. Within the throne room, they found King Themos waiting. He was clad for war now, and a colossal mace was laid next to his throne. His one eye gazed at William carefully.


    "William Gabriel, you return. I am glad to see that you still breathe," said Themos. "Yet if I have guessed your purpose here, I fear you have wasted a trip."


    "Not all fears are founded, King Themos," said William. "I have come from a battle with the Calishans, where we have already scored a great victory."


    "Victory?" laughed a harsh voice. I wonder, has the word changed its meaning since last I heard Harlenorian?" It was speaking in a language he did not understand, yet the meaning came to him plainly. A Cyclops standing next to Themos whispered something in the King''s ear.


    Into the room walked Neseriah. She was far more horrible up close. She was like a cross between a human and a bat; her hands had long nails. On her arms were two great bat wings.


    "Princess Neseriah, you have something to say at last?" said Themos.


    "I do indeed," said Neseriah. "However, I wished to say it before the emissaries of Harlenor. Hear this, Skull Mask. Your villages are in flames. Your pathetic militia is routed, and your knights are far from here."


    "The battle has not gone as you think, Neseriah," said William. "Calishan Immortals lie dead upon the soil of Estal. And with them, many of your soldiers."


    "Ah, but I have many more of those," said Neseriah. "And Immortals are gifted. They will reincarnate with all their memories in another eighteen years. Then they shall fight for me again. Yet those militias who have been slaughtered shall not be so easily replaced. Your gates and walls have failed.


    "Even as we speak, I sense more of my warriors mustering, fresh from victory. They march upon that little town you rallied. It will fall soon. And all who live within it shall be put to the sword: every man, woman, and child.


    "Those who escape my wrath will flee into the city. There, they will be safe for a time until my brothers arrive. Then they will land, and the full might of Calisha will fall upon you. And none may stand against the might of Baltoth."


    "Strange," said William. "I thought the power of your bloodline was the ability to wield the shadows. Yet you seem to have learned to see the future. Or so I assume. The children of Baltoth are not known for their hubris." That was a lie.


    "It is not hubris to read the signs," said Neseriah. "Harlenor is far away and distracted. Estal is the aggressor and has violated our truce on the day it was signed. My delicate sister is a captive of Aris, so right is on our side. And our armies are vast beyond number.


    "What you have seen thus far is but a taste of the power of Calisha. Soon, she might be let loose in flood to wash away all who would oppose us.


    "Still, I will not deny that you may be of some irritation. Thus, I will say what I came to say." And she turned to King Themos. "Hear me, King Themos. Calisha does not quarrel with you. Your people had no part in the kidnapping of my sister. Nor have you ever broken a treaty with us. And yet, for a long time, you have had wars with your neighbor, Estal.


    "Would it not be better to be rid of them? Join your forces with Calisha. It is we who are wronged, we who have been betrayed. Do so, and the rewards will be great, for we will need someone to rule this island in the name of Baltoth. Why shouldn''t it be you? You who dwelled here long before these humans ever did?


    "Or, if you do not want to join us, just stay your hand. Let us finish our business with Estal, and do not waste your people in a needless war. I am certain my brother, Suloth, will be happy to leave your lands in peace when we finish. And no honorable man could fault you for not aiding these bandits.


    "They speak of honor while they kidnap other men''s wives. They boast of valorous deeds performed. Yet these deeds are not those of heroes but of raiders and plunderers. They fall on villages that cannot defend themselves and kill without mercy. Priestesses were raped within the bounds of their own gods'' temples and dragged away in chains.


    "These warriors are but pretenders. They fight for no one''s benefit but their own. Aid them, and they shall declare eternal friendship. Then they will turn upon you before the wax on your treaty has dried."


    Themos heard these words. For a moment, he remained silent as they were told to him. Then he turned to William. "What say you, Sir William?"


    William considered his answer. He''d have to spin this somehow. "Some men say that one Harlenorian is worth ten Calishans upon the battlefield. Yet I know this to be wrong. I have seen the valor of Calishans on the battlefield. I have watched as men clad only in leather with spears held their ground against armored knights. They fought bravely and brought glory to their families and nation.


    "When taken hostage, they were allowed to keep their arms and go in peace back to their own land as a mark of respect. I have seen great deeds performed by both Calishan and Harlenorian. I will not pretend that we Harlenorians are any greater warriors.


    "Nor may I claim our cause wholly just. The kidnapping of Safara, though she came of her own will, was a deed of supreme dishonor. The shame of it rests upon Estal. Indeed, where Cassandra was taken for the sake of peace, Safara was taken for war.


    "Yet I ask you, what part in that dishonor did the villages in the shadow of your mountain play? What choice did the children trapped in burning houses have in the decisions of their Prince? Emissary Emira has yet to have the chance to speak two words. And yet Neseriah had already mobilized. Let alone carry the reply of King Estal back to Emperor Baltoth.


    If we had given time to let tempers cool, King Estal could have been convinced to give up his son''s prize.


    "Yet now that will never happen. There will be much more blood and death before the end of this war. You have repaid the courtesy of Harlenor with vicious slaughter. You have put to the flame the houses of the innocent and butchered the people of this land." William thought his words were entirely hollow. But he was obligated to pretend they weren''t.


    "Only a fool does not have a plan to deal with his enemies," said Neseriah. "We had been preparing ourselves to invade Estal when their offer of peace was made. Thus, we put aside our plans for the sake of it and resumed them when we were betrayed.


    "As for butchery, what have we done that Argath Marn and his entourage have not done so much more willingly? It is the way of war that sides prey on their weakest enemies first.


    "Yet this is beside the point. What do you propose, Sir William? That King Themos join his enemies in repelling a nation he has never had to fight? What reward will you promise him? And of what worth is any promise now made by Estal?"


    "Neseriah speaks well," said Themos after his translator had finished speaking. What do you propose, Sir William?"


    He had to turn Themos against the Calishans. Or at least make him distrust them. "First, let me say that you have never been enemies with Calisha. Because Calisha has never possessed Estal," said William. "Had a Calishan Prince colonized it, and not the young brother of King Andoa, things would be different. I do not doubt that there would have been war. It is a way for neighbors to fight with one another.


    "Yet consider this: Calisha is far greater in power than Estal. If King Estal today were to send all his armies against your people, you won. Yet if Baltoth were to seize this island and unleash his armies against you, you would be hemmed in. An island of freedom in a sea of tyranny.


    "And you would inevitably fall.


    "Baltoth does not fear any nation by itself. But many nations together? That he does fear.


    "Calisha is not so invincible as they claim. Upon the banks of the river, Savior''s Run, my father defeated a vast host of Calishans. And before that on the shores of Desora, he destroyed a Calishan army as it landed.


    "Each time, Calisha drew back its hand. Each time, they negotiated rather than fall.


    "No army is invincible. No nation is beyond defeat. If the Cyclopi march to war against Calisha alongside the men of Estal, we may gain a great victory. If Calisha is defeated badly enough, they will seek terms. And when they do, we may find a way to settle the debt of honor without the need for such bloodletting.


    "Join us, King Themos. Prove to the world the might of the Cyclopi. In so doing, you will solidify the friendship between Estal and the Cyclopi. For there is a saying that blood spilled is thicker than wine poured. In the fires of war, great friendships may be founded. One may be forged between Estal and your people and, in so doing, the future secured." He was lying through his teeth now. When the war was over, things would probably go right back the way they were. But it was his duty.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "Baltoth fears nothing, Skull Mask. Remember the fact," said Neseriah.


    Themos remained silent. "...You both speak well. Yet I will not make any decision in haste. I must observe and consider the situation. For now, I must offer you what hospitality I can."


    Oh, good. The Cyclopi would remain neutral. They might actually make it out of this war alive. "I fear I cannot accept it, King Themos," said William, bowing his head. I must return to the front. I fear the battle will be bloody."


    "Then go in peace," said Themos with a wave of his hand. An ironic farewell if ever there had been one.


    So they began the journey back to the villages. As they walked alongside Massacre, darkness came on. William looked to Felix, who was silent.


    "What do you think, Felix?" he asked.


    "Themos is going to wait until he thinks he knows which side is winning," Felix decided. "Then he''ll jump in and finish the job."


    "That was my assessment as well," mused William. "Which means we have to win as many victories as we can as quickly as possible."


    "We''re doomed, you know that," said Felix.


    "I know," said William.


    Felix wasn''t going to let it end at that. "Baltoth humored Duke Vanion because it was a friendly rivalry. His people were treated with the utmost respect, and Baltoth got something out of the deal. This is a personal vendetta and a betrayal. He will keep coming until he, or Estal, is dead."


    "I know!" said William.


    "Then why are you trying to get the Cyclopi to help?" asked Felix.


    "It is my duty," said William. "If the Cyclopi assist us, we may be able to stall Calisha. At least long enough to get the other Harlenorian Kingdoms involved."


    "You''ll tear up everything your father worked for," said Felix, voice cold.


    "Aris teared up everything Father worked for!" said William as he turned on them. "Not me!" He realized he was shouting, hearing his echo. He took several deep breaths. "Estal is of strategic importance. I can''t let Baltoth take it. Not without doing everything I can to stop him."


    "Well, as long as you don''t think you''re the hero in this story," said Felix. "Do as you like?"


    "And who is the hero, then?" asked William.


    Felix shrugged. "Haven''t you learned anything? There are no heroes."


    They kept walking. Eventually, William looked to his bloodstained chimera. "What do you think about Massacre?"


    Massacre took a bite out of some thornbushes. "Bah."


    "Yes, I thought you''d say that," mused William.


    They journeyed in silence. When, at last, they came within sight of the villages, most of the fires had been put out. There were still some smoking ruins, but William could see nothing in the darkness. As they neared the town they had set out, they found Eitrigg.


    The priest was sitting against the gatehouse, meditating. As soon as they reached him, he opened his eyes and stood. "William, thank Elranor. You''ve returned. Were you successful?"


    "King Themos has decided to ponder the matter," said William. "I take this to mean that he will wait to see how the war is going before committing his forces. What is our situation?"


    "We''ve had refugees fleeing into this town from all over," said Eitrigg. "Several villages fell in the initial onslaught. The Calishans went out of their way to kill everyone they could lay hands on. No prisoners or slaves taken.


    "I''ve been hard-pressed to convince the men not to execute prisoners. Still, we''ve beaten them in several battles. And stalemated them in several others."


    "Any news from my mother?" asked William.


    "The Lady Azgora destroyed several companies of Calishan soldiers," said Eitrigg.


    "Then her militia training was not wasted," said William.


    "No, she destroyed several companies by herself," said Eitrigg. "She left the militia in reserve. We''ve found her standing over a field of corpses."


    William blinked in surprise. "Where is she now?"


    "The last word was that she was trying to gather some of the forces which were put to flight," said Eitrigg. "Word has been sent across the bridge. The city is in flames, or so men say. Some say it has been burned to the ground. However, I suspect these are an exaggeration."


    "Have any reinforcements come from the city?" asked William.


    "None," said Eitrigg. "The Calishans dropped a large force of Immortals into the city itself. They are fighting with the guards. We have been ordered to hold our position as long as possible."


    "Then that is what we''ll have to do," said William. "Did you manage to save the granary?"


    "Yes," said Eitrigg. "But several other villagers lost their food supplies to fire. There will be great hunger in the coming years."


    "Oh, don''t worry," said Felix with a smile. "I''m sure my countrymen will kill so many people that you won''t even notice the difference."


    William looked at him. "That wasn''t funny, Felix."


    "It doesn''t make it any less true," said Felix. "This is the Calishan vanguard. What do you think the main army will do when it arrives?"


    "Our main army isn''t here yet," said William.


    Then, his eye fell on the bodies of Calishans. They had been laid out in great numbers. It looked as if the lord, what was his name, was building a great pyre to burn all the dead. Yet all the wood hadn''t been gathered yet. He looked at the faces. They were far darker than those who had fought at the battle of Savior''s Run. They were also taller and more muscular.


    "Eitrigg, who are these men?" asked William. "Some among them are Drens; I know that much. But others have a slant to their eyes that I don''t recognize."


    "Calishans," said Eitrigg.


    "There are more than one kind of Calishan, Eitrigg," said William. "There are many different racial stocks. We''re all from Harlenor. But I''m a Haldrenian with Escorian blood. You''re an Estalian, descended from the men of Antion.


    "It is the same with Calishans."


    "Actually, my father came here from Escor," said Eitrigg. But regarding your question, I don''t know."


    "These aren''t my sort, the Medi. They''re far easterners," said Felix, coming forward. "Narsuf, I think, a crossbreed between Drens and the Namineans who used to rule them. That was before Neseriah took the land out of their domain. Of course, that was long after Namina itself sank into the sea.


    "Baltoth took Narsuf for it''s Malas."


    "Malas?" asked William. "I thought Artarq was the only source."


    "It is," said Felix. "We overmined it while seeking to conquer our neighbors and put down rebellions. Malas does restore itself over time, but only if there is enough of it to reproduce. So we''ve had to find alternative sources, thus the importance of Artarq."


    Then, there was the sound of beating wings. William looked up to see the great bats flying away. Their baskets were still in their claws. "The bats are leaving," he murmured. "But what about the Calishans still here?"


    "Neseriah cares little for the lives of mortals," said Felix. "They are expendable. They aimed to sew discord and disrupt our defenses in preparation for the main thrust. When Baltoth lands his main fleet here, the outer fortifications will be in chaos.


    "I expect the remaining Narsuf will begin a guerilla campaign. Strike exposed targets. Their only hope of survival is to hold out long enough for the main fleet to arrive."


    "So they''ve been sent to die," guessed William.


    "What are soldiers for if not to die for their nation?" asked Felix.


    "To make the enemy die for theirs," said William.


    "... I''ll concede the point," said Felix.


    Then, one of the bats took a spear through the chest and staggered down to the ground. Another soon fell beside it. The bats scattered and flew faster as spear after spear pierced them. Nearly half a dozen fell to the ground dead before they were clear.


    "Who could throw a spear like that?" asked Eitrigg.


    "Mother could," said William. "Apparently, spear-throwing contests are held where she is from. It''s a sport. Father won a prize at it once."


    Eitrigg blinked. "What was the story behind that?"


    "There were several, actually," said William. "Mother''s land of Themious is a Matriarchy, where the women have divine blood. Ment there are not warriors because of physical inferiority. Father, having been raised in a warrior culture, was somewhat eccentric.


    "Mother and he went on several adventures together."


    "Thus the hydra?" asked Eitrigg.


    "Yes," said William. "When one cut off one of its heads, two more grew in place. Mother cut off the heads, and Father burned the stumps with a fire. Then, there was also a boar whose hide was immune to weapons and could not be stopped. Father lured it into a pit trap filled with oil, and once it fell into it, he lit it on fire. The smoke and flame choked it to death.


    "And, of course, there was a giant of steel who sought to overthrow the gods of Themious. They started an avalanche to trap them in plus, then cut off his head when he was trapped in place. During that time, they fell in love, and when Father left, Lady Azgora went with him."


    "That''s quite an impressive story," said Eitrigg.


    "It''s only the barest of summaries," said William. "And I haven''t even touched on Serecula, the Queen of Spiran." Then he looked to Felix. "Felix, I need to ask you something to one side."


    The two walked out of earshot. "Yes, what is it?" asked Felix.


    "Why didn''t Baltoth use those bats against us at Artarq?" William asked. He could have easily crossed the river without fear of an ambush."


    "The bats answer only to Neseriah," said Felix. "Banir was a subordinate king to Suloth. The children of Baltoth rarely unite for anything. Aris has managed to get Baltoth angry. A feat I wasn''t sure was possible anymore."


    "Anymore?" asked William.


    "Well, he hasn''t exactly gone into any bloody rages¡ªnot on any records, at any rate," said Felix. "Most of the day-to-day affairs of Calisha are minded by the Kings. Suloth is the one who provides most of the leadership for them."


    "What could occupy Baltoth if not the affairs of his own nation?" asked William.


    Felix shrugged and smiled. "Who am I to know the private affairs of Baltoth?" Then he laughed.


    "What''s funny?" asked William.


    "You expect too much of me, William," said Felix. "I haven''t been home in years."


    "Right. Of course," said William. "Do you ever miss it?"


    "Sometimes. I was from the area around Ruscow," said Felix. "Mother kept a garden and had servants to help her with it. However, she didn''t need it. We could buy whatever we needed. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Perhaps that was a warning sign."


    William paused. Something about the whole thing was bothering him. "Felix, this may sound callous, but do you know how Baltoth learned your father was skimming off the top?"


    Felix looked at him warily. "Baltoth has eyes everywhere. I expect someone saw something which incriminated him."


    "I see," said William, looking away.


    "Is something wrong?" asked Felix.


    "Something has been bothering me for a long time, Felix," said William. "Father praised King Banir''s skill and valor. Yet Baltoth saw through it and had him killed."


    "It would not take much to observe that man''s incompetence," said Felix.


    "Yes, that was what I thought," said William. "But then, in Khasmir, Calisha sent an army there very quickly. Almost too quickly."


    "He probably had already mobilized his forces ahead of time," said Felix. "Banir was meant as a vanguard."


    "Logical," said William. "But now this. Baltoth knew that Aris meant to march to war. How could he have known that we were stalling Emira? And if he didn''t intend to negotiate, why would he have sent her at all?"


    "Emira was here to give an ultimatum," said Felix. "I''m certain she has means to send word from her post here."


    "Baltoth seems far too well informed," mused William.


    "He is a god," said Felix. "It is his business."


    "King Estal is here!" cried the lookout. "King Estal has come!"


    Well, it was time to report his partial success.

 Chapter Twenty-Three: Ultimatum

    King Estal entered the village at the head of an army. He went clad in gray armor and held a spear in one hand. Behind the gray armored host, they were dragging a large force of Calishans. They were bound at the wrists and numbers a hundred at least.


    Asborn and his sons went to meet him. They kneeled in fealty. "King Estal. Victory is ours."


    "So I have heard," said King Estal. "Estal owes much to the brave militia. We were delayed, for the bats of Neseriah dropped hundreds of Immortals into the midsts of our city. They sought to set fire to the grain stores and kill all they could lay hands on.


    "We were hard put to it. But this old man''s father was a Prince of Antion." He fingered the haft of his sword, then looked to the slaves. "These are those captured. We have brought them to aid in the repair of your fortifications. See to it that they live."


    "I will do so," said Asborn. "Then we''ll have someone to ransom."


    "More than that," said Estal, "it is the will of Princess Safara that all prisoners be treated with respect. We should have executed them if not for her."


    They should have executed them, reflected William. This kind of attack was pure barbarism, and the Calishans had taken no prisoners. Their bodies should have been hanging from the walls. And yet everyone, men and women who had hated Calishans from birth, was doing as Safara willed.


    Even though she wasn''t there to will it, how far did Safara''s reach extend?


    "Now I have need of one of your sons," said Estal. "Aris'' fleet has been seen approaching the shore. I wish to meet him there. His forces should be enough to route anyone else."


    "I have been told that Lady Azgora has already half routed them herself," said Asborn. "Ensor will go with you. He''s had his first battle today and killed three Calishans."


    William hurried forward, Massacre padding behind him. Estal looked up. "Ah, Sir William. Though I suppose I haven''t had the chance to make the title formal. I see you''ve had your share of battle."


    William looked at his skull armor and realized it was covered in blood. He must have looked terrifying, like the visage of death itself. "Yes, I have."


    "More than that," said Ensor. "I saw him kill a Calishan Immortal. And his pet chimera turned the tide."


    William was surprised Ensor was singing his praises. Given how they had met, he hadn''t been expecting it. "Massacre isn''t my pet. She is my friend," He paused. "King Estal in regards to my mission. The Cyclopi are still considering their options. I believe that if we can win more victories, King Themos may come in on our side.


    "If we cannot, he may remain neutral. Or worse, take the side of the Calishans."


    "Well, it is much to ask for his assistance so soon," said Estal before approaching Massacre. The lion head eyed Estal warily, but Estal reached forward without fear. He scratched her behind the ears. "You are a mighty beast, indeed. May I ask you a favor?


    "Could you stay here and watch over these prisoners. Ensure nothing goes wrong with the repair of this place."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    Estal looked at William. "What does she say?"


    "Massacre says she will do no such thing," said William. How had Estal known Massacre was a girl? William hadn''t figured it out until Kiyora had told him. "With your permission, King Estal, I wish to go with you and see the fleet myself."


    "Of course," said Estal. "It is a shame I have not been able to formally knight you. You have more than proved yourself." He looked around. "Perhaps I shall make a festival for this victory."


    "There is little to celebrate," said William.


    "Yes," agreed Estal. "Not today, at any rate. This is indeed a grim victory. But in a few years, men will drink toasts to the valiant defense of Estal. And the fleet may bring good news, heralding the end of the war. It may be that the Calishan fleets have already been defeated."


    "One can only hope," said William. But he did not hope. Not for a moment.


    "Come," said Estal, "we will take a small party and go to the shore."


    Thus they set out for the shore. As they walked, they passed several burned-out villages. Here, men were busy burying the dead. Others were picking through the ruins, trying to salvage anything of use. Estal looked on grimly but said nothing.


    "Calishan pigs," hissed Ensor. "I used to drink there."


    William realized that the burned-out ruins of one building must have been a tavern at one point. He could make out many charred corpses within. Beyond, they came across a large group of Calishans who were bound and forced to kneel in a row just past it. Above them were many armored knights of Estal, who placed blades to the back of their necks.


    Mother was standing there by them. Estal came forward. "Lady Azgora. Who are these men who are being executed?"


    "Calishans," said Mother. "Who else? They massacred everyone they could lay hands on than met up with their other forces. I gathered the militia and met them in battle. We drove them before us and killed all the Immortals. These are all that survive."


    A will was in the air. William almost felt as though loving coils surrounded him. He knew the others felt it as well from the way they changed¡ªall except Mother, who remained silent.


    "Let them up," said Estal. "We will force them to mend what they have broken?"


    William expected a cry of outrage. But no one said anything. Already the knights were removing their blades. And something told him this was right. Better to have mercy. Then he saw Mother, who looked at him flatly. Just like that, the coils seemed to fall away.


    "Can they restore the dead to life?" asked William. "Can they feed those who will go hungry? We have already spared many. But if all are taken prisoner, what retribution will those who raid you in the future fear?"


    "You would have us seek revenge, then?" said Estal.


    "If Calisha thinks they can draw back their hand after striking you, why should they fear to lose it," said William. "We must win this war. But we must also make the Calishans regret forcing us into it."


    "And what would you have us do?" asked Estal.


    William hesitated. The coils gripped him again, demanding he have mercy. Let them go. Yet Mother''s gaze was on him. He felt like he was being crushed between two wills. "Put all the Calishans to work with the exception of the nobles. All of the nobles will be rounded up and executed."


    "Why should we do that?" asked Estal, looking at him.


    "The custom," said William, "is, of course, to ransom those who are most valuable. If someone must be executed, then it is better to execute the commoners. By killing the nobles, we send a message. It will terrify all future raiders. Anyone who considers acting in this fashion will know that their title will not protect them.


    "Nobles are the ones'' who fund these sorts of expeditions they will be much less keen to invade."


    The coils tightened. William could hardly breathe. But he felt as though everyone else was straining against them. Eventually, Estal looked away. "Put the prisoners with the rest. I shall consult Aris on what happens next. The shore awaits."


    Oh, wonderful. The matter would be put up to Aris'' legendary judgment. Mother turned to the troops. "Let them up. We''ll put them to work repairing some of the fortifications."


    The rest of the journey was silent. William felt anger in the back of his mind. It was like the anger of a lover who has lost their spouse. What he felt was a deeply personal kind of anger. And it was directed at Azgora. No, Mother.


    When they came within sight of the wall, William was surprised. There were burning corpses in a pile there. Ensor whistled. "Well looks like the gate guards did their work well."


    "They attacked here, then?" asked William.


    "There was sore fighting here," said Mother. "However, we managed to relieve them before it fell. The enemy came in great numbers, and none survived."


    "Those fortifications are very formidable," said William. "How could a few hundred men take them?"


    "Look," said Mother, pointing with her spear.


    William did look at them. For a long moment, he didn''t get it. Then the obvious dawned. "Right, the wall was meant to keep people out, not in. The fortifications are no good on this side."


    King Estal had a pavilion set up on a hill and guards posted around it. Most of his entourage set themselves up there. As William came to the top of the hill, he looked past the wall and saw the fleet. For a moment, he was struck with awe.


    "So many ships?" asked Ensor. "Where did they all come from?"


    "Many of them are Calishan vessels," said Mother. "Aris and Tanith must have captured a great many."


    Even now, huge chests of valuables were being piled upon the shore. Lines of slaves were being led out into the shore. William looked to Mother. "I''m going to see if I can go greet Tanith."


    "Do as you like, my son," said Azgora.


    William and Felix made their way through the gate. They searched among the valuables being unloaded. Eventually, he saw Tanith leaping off a ship to land in the shallows to wade ashore. Thank Elranor, she was still alive.


    "Tanith, you''re back!" he called as he ran to her. He removed his helmet and held her close to him. "I''m glad you''re still drawing breath."


    "Drawing steel as well," said Tanith. "Well, we had one or two issues, but I''m well content with the bloodshed. We saw some bats carrying troops here. You kill any Calishans?"


    "Too many," admitted William. "They attacked the villages, and we were hard-pressed to hold them at bay. How did you fair?"


    Tanith stretched and looked skyward. "We destroyed a fleet of Calishans fleets in harbor using fireships, or most of one. A few got away. Then we met another fleet our own size in battle. We captured most of their vessels and killed every one of them.


    "Of course we were on our way back a larger one came after us. But we got bailed out by the serpent Jormungsk. The one who trapped us in the Iron Kingdom. So we rallied and burned that one to the waterline too."


    "Jormungsk?" asked William. "Why would he help you?"


    "Apparently King Byran sent him to help us out," said Tanith. "He doesn''t want the Calishans getting a foothold on Estal. It makes sense. Estal is too weak to invade Viokinar. But Calisha could do it in a heartbeat. Especially with all the fun, we had with Melchious.


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    "Anyway, we won and destroyed that fleet too."


    Tanith had been as horrified as he was in the Iron City. But now that the memory had grown distant, she called it fun. Something was wrong with her, and William found it strange he was only just realizing as much. "What happened then?" asked William, stepping back.


    "Well then, Aris ordered us to turn around and start raiding the Calishan shores." said Tanith. "But I convinced him it wasn''t a good idea to do it. The last thing I want is to go back to fighting like Argath Marn.


    "The man was a total coward who only went for easy targets who couldn''t defend themselves. And then he sold out as soon as he got back with false repentance. No glory in that. So I figured we ought to attack Calishan forts along the coast instead."


    "You laid siege to Baltoth''s own coast?" asked William.


    "Yep," said Tanith. "It was the last thing he expected and way more fun than sacking villages, to be honest. A lot more challenge fighting with other soldiers, and their deaths hurt Calisha more. We took three forts, stole a lot of plunder, and made a clean getaway. Aris thought it was way too aggressive, but it worked out pretty well.


    "Here he comes now."


    Aris was walking down the shore toward them, wearing armor. Esgroth was with him, and he was walking with a limp. Tanith went to meet him. "Aris, turns out we won on both fronts. They didn''t need our help."


    "As expected," said Aris. "I knew the Calishans could not hope to take Estal without overwhelming force."


    "That is little comfort to the people of Estal," said William, annoyed by his attitude.


    "All victory has a price," said Aris. "What damage did they do?"


    "Several villages were burned," said William. "The Calishans killed everyone they could. They also destroyed granaries. And burned fields." He paused. "I do hope your wedding will be a good one, Prince Aris."


    "Your tone is unappreciated, Gabriel," said Aris. "This is my land, and I will do so as I will within it.


    "Now, I will speak to my father at once. Esgroth, oversee the unloading of the ships. Tanith, come with me."


    "If I may, Prince Aris." said Esgroth. "There are a great many ships in our fleet¡ªmore than we can fit in the harbor. With your permission, I would like to keep some of them out at sea. If we send them all into harbor, they will be heavily clustered."


    "Just get the valuables unloaded," said Aris. "We''ll find a safer harbor for them one we''ve finished bringing in the goods. We''ll have a triumph in the city when we''re done."


    "I will escort you to King Estal, if you will it," said William.


    "I do," said Aris.


    He led him back to the pavilion and entered it. There, he found King Estal waiting with many courtiers. William bowed his head. "King Estal, your son is here."


    Aris came forward. Estal stood and embraced him. "My son, you have returned at last. How goes the battle?"


    "We have destroyed three Calishans fleets, Father," said Aris. "Those ships we did not destroy have bolstered our fleet. None escaped. And we have unleashed great destruction on them for their hubris."


    In the history of the universe, there had been many hypocritical statements. In William''s mind, Aris'' none could compare to that one.


    "I am glad," said Estal. "Great glory has been brought to Estal by your efforts. Yet we have also suffered a grievous blow. Several of our villages have been burned to the ground. If not for Lady Azgora and her son''s efforts, we should have been badly worsted."


    And then the tent flap parted, and Safara entered the room. Her red hair flowed about her like a river as she surged forward. Faster than anyone could react, she hugged Aris. "Aris!"


    Aris smiled and kissed her. "Safara, you came to meet me then."


    "I wished to see your return," said Safara. "Is it over?"


    Aris led Safara away, and they began to speak together. Cassandra entered behind her, clad in flowing while. Enso came up behind William and tapped him on the shoulder.


    "So that''s the woman all this was for?" whispered Ensor.


    "Yes," said William. "She is."


    "Who wouldn''t fight a war to keep her?" said Ensor.


    "Someone with more sense than me," muttered William.


    "Come, we must see to the succor of our people," said Estal quickly. "When what arrangements that can be made have been made, we will celebrate. We''ll tell the stories of our victories. They shall be told of these days for centuries to come, and my grandchildren will look upon it with pride. And your bride to be shall shine all the more radiantly for the sacrifice of the brave."


    "By your leave, Father, we have no time," said Cassandra. "We must send a message to Emperor Baltoth at once and sue for peace."


    "Even Baltoth will think twice before invading us again," said Aris. "We''ve all but won."


    This was too much. "Are all of Baltoth''s armies broken?" asked William. "Has his Empire fallen into the sea like the legendary continent of Namina? We must seek an end to this war while the victory is fresh in Baltoth''s mind."


    "Always you seek of peace, and never a victory," said Aris. "Are you afraid?"


    "I''m not fool if that''s what you''re asking," said William.


    "Enough!" said Estal. "We are all fresh from battle, and harsh words are seldom meant in that state. Both of you have proved your valor and will show due respect."


    "Father, I believe Sir Gabriel is correct," said Cassandra. "We must attempt to end this war. With the recent defeats, Baltoth may well decide it is in his best interests to admit defeat. "


    This was not going to work.


    "So be it," said Estal. "Send for Emira. I will speak to her at once."


    Before anyone could move, an orange mist entered the tent. It flowed into it, hiding everything from view. Then it faded away, and before them stood Emira. She fell to a kneel before Estal. "King Estal, you have sent for me?"


    Estal flinched. "Calisha has sent its armies. And they have failed. Your fleets are defeated. And your vanguard is broken. The next blow will suffer a similar fate as the world watches.


    "I ask now that Baltoth cease this meaningless war and return back to his own domain."


    "Emperor Baltoth understands well that your will did not do the taking of Safara. Rather, it was by the will of Aris," said Emira. "He salutes the valiancy of your defense and will gladly allow the matter pass in light of your son''s youth.


    "His offer given before remains: Return Safara to her husband. With the added stipulation that compensation is given to Calisha. Payment for the destruction wrought on our shores."


    "Compensation?" roared Aris. "You would demand compensation over the wreckage of your fleet and the bodies of your armies? Why should we yield as a defeated power?!"


    "Was it not you who dealt the first blow?" asked Emira. "Was it not you who struck without need? Have a care, Prince Aris. Baltoth''s patience is not infinite. In your pride, you cannot see the fall. Nor the brand which will soon be set to a pyre of your own making."


    "Do not threaten me, Calishan-"began Aris.


    "Enough," said Estal. "Ambassador, it is the custom among powers that the victor gains the advantage. Do you deny this?"


    "I do not," said Emira.


    "Then how can you ask me to discredit myself and the pride of my nation with such terms?" asked Estal. "I shall not give up my sanctuary offered to Safara. She is here as my guest and may remain so long as she desires."


    "Then there is nothing more to discuss," said Emira.


    Then, suddenly, the smell of burning entered the tent. A man rushed in. "King Estal! The fleet! Come quickly!"


    They rushed out of the tent and onto the hill. Looking out over the walls, William saw the fleet of Estal. It was burning. Dozens upon dozens of ships were burning. Men cast themselves into the sea to escape it. Other desperately tried to put out the flames, or carry valuables to safety.


    "What happened?" asked King Estal.


    "Bats emerged from the shadows of the cliffs!" said a man. "They dropped firebombs on the fleet while we were unloading!"


    "Why didn''t you shoot them down?" asked Aris.


    "We tried, but all the men had gone ashore!" said the man. Neseriah must have sent bats to linger just out of sight of the harbor until the fleet returned. Very clever.


    "Move the fleet out!" cried Aris. "Put out the flames! Save the ships!"


    As chaos overtook the beach, Emira walked forward confidently. "This flame signifies the first blow struck upon Estal. As your ships are consumed in the heat of fire, so too shall Estal be consumed by your pride."


    "You... coward!" roared Aris. "You spoke with us in parley while your armies marched to war!"


    Emira smiled. "Did you not do the same? Are you not bound by the rules of your own making?"


    William approached Safara, knowing this was their only chance. He tapped her on the shoulder. The sensation of coming into contact with her supple flesh sent chills through him. It was all he could od not to stammer nervously. "Safara, a word if you will."


    She looked up. "Yes, yes, of course?"


    They walked to one side. William forced himself to speak. He shouldn''t say anything, but he knew he must. She deserved to remain and do what she liked. "Listen to me Safara. You must return to Calisha," he said. The hurt on her face was like a knife to the heart. "Estal will be defeated. The longer we do battle against Calisha the harsher the end will be. You must go back before more people die."


    She looked torn. And so she should be, this magnificent and innocent creature, beloved by all who beheld her. She looked at the burning and wept. "...I can''t. You don''t understand, Suloth isn''t going to try and rescue me. He''ll punish me. I''ve seen what he does to his relations that defy him, what he did to Rammas.


    "He''ll do that to me if I''m lucky."


    This was ridiculous. What was he doing here? Why was he hurting her feelings like this? "And how many people have died already for the sake of this elopement? Why is your life worth more than theirs?"


    This question actually surprised her. "I''m a demigod. That sets me apart."


    "Then why are you defying your father?" asked William. "We could get assurances of your safety. But you must go. Please."


    It wasn''t really the hardest thing he''d ever done. He just felt like it was. Emotions were irrational, after all, but it worked. Safara slithered over to Estal, looking downcast. "...King Estal, many people have already died to defend me. My selfishness has caused horrible grief to the people of this land. I will return to Calisha if it means peace."


    "No!" cried Aris.


    And several others had said the same in that moment. Safara, beautiful and tragic, turned to Aris. "Aris I must-"


    "Shall we submit to the intimidation of Baltoth?" asked Aris. "To return Safara now would be nothing less of murder."


    "I can promise that she will not be permanently harmed," said Emira.


    "And of what worth is your word, Emira?" asked Aris. "You who parleys while readying a dagger to strike at our hearts? I tell you now, Estal will not submit to you, or Baltoth! Your armies will break on this island, and to take it will be the end of you!


    "I offer you nothing! And that is far more than you will receive if you persist!"


    "Aris, you must let me go," said Safara, ever willing to sacrifice herself. "My life doesn''t matter-"


    "Safara is mine!" snarled Aris. "And no power on heaven or earth shall take her from me!"


    Estal stepped forward. "My son, calm yourself," he looked to Emira. "Emira, I ask that you remove yourself from our presence. If you remain here before the destruction you have caused, I cannot guarantee your safety."


    Emira bowed politely. "Your courtesy is appreciated, King Estal. I pray you will come to your senses." Then she looked to Safara. Something passed between them, and Safara flinched. Then Emira turned on one foot and walked away.


    "Tanith, escort Safara back to the city," said Aris. "Put a watch on her. No one is to lay a hand on her."


    "Aris-" began Safara.


    Aris put a hand on her shoulder. "Enough. It is for your safety. I do not want assassins or kidnappers to seek you out. Please. Do this for me."


    "Wonderful," said Tanith, "so now I''m bodyguarding your pet snake." S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "She is not a pet!" snarled Aris.


    "Sure she isn''t," said Tanith.


    Tanith was far more intelligent than most gave her credit for, and had seen right through Aris'' facade. Aris valued Safara only as a possession. She was faultless here as in control as a slave. If William had her, he would have let her go. No, no, this was absurd. Why couldn''t he stop thinking about her like this?


    Was everyone thinking this way?


    "William, I am told you fought well in the battles," said Mother.


    "We''ve been told a great many things," muttered William.


    "You mean to say you did not?" asked Mother, surprised.


    "No. I''m just irritable," said William.


    Mother paused. "In any case, I am proud of your role. You are a credit to your family and a worthy son."


    "Good to hear," said William.


    "Is something wrong?" asked Mother.


    "Hmm, possibly," said William. "Your goddess tried to rape me. I was transformed into a bull by Herus and trapped by a medusa."


    "Wait, what?" said Mother. "When did this happen?"


    "A few days ago," said William. I haven''t talked to anyone about it. Tanith rescued me. Anyway, when I was rescued from that, I found that Aris had started a hopeless war. A war that I cannot escape from because Tanith talked me into it, and now all the ships are being burned.


    "And the only way to stop this is to get the King to do the one thing no one here is willing to do. Am I missing anything?"


    "Bah," said Massacre helpfully.


    "Silence Massacre," said William. "We''re all going to die. Everyone here is going to die."


    "William you despair too quickly," said Mother. "One can never know the paths that destiny will take. All one can do is set yourself against the challenge of the day. The fate of Estal has not been decided on this day. It will be decided on the days to come.


    "And at that time, I know you will make me proud."


    William remained silent. Once, he would have been glad to hear those words. But now he was just tired. He wanted to go home and rest, but that was not an option. Blood and death awaited. It was his duty to perpetuate it.


    The Calishan''s vanguard had been defeated, and many of their ships were broken. Yet it was only the beginning of the war. And William just wanted it all to end.

 The Dragoness Queen

    Montazus would rather be anywhere than here, in this skeletal and deadly place. The looming arches were engraved with images of death and decay. Though the sun looked on all things, he doubted it liked looking on these.


    Would that he had been given to the Sun Spirit forty years ago, that he did not have to make such an alliance. But he did, and so he looked at the floating humanoid before him. A creature of bones circling around a single red gem at the center. Bright, flaming eyes gazed at him from the throne as a single hand was drawing life from a prisoner.


    "Do you intend to drain the lifeforce from these slaves while we have our meeting, Lord Durag?" asked Montazus, reminding himself that the very universe rested on this alliance.


    "Ah, yes, that," said Durag. "He is a criminal, not a slave. Still, I suppose you prefer other beverages. I may have wine delivered if you so desire." Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I would prefer not to drink at all," said Montazus, feeling ill as the prisoner''s flesh withered away. Even before his eyes, his bones began to break apart. The man did not scream at all. "Mixing pleasure with war is to be avoided."


    "As you wish," said Durag. "You need not fear. I''ve broken their ability to feel or perceive anything. They are more or less in a void, waiting to die.


    "I am a humanitarian, more than anything else. Now, what is it you wished to speak of, High Priest?"


    "The Conquista of Anoa will soon have its prophecy fulfilled," said Montazus. He was shifting his favorite green cloak about him. His wife had made it for him before she passed away a few years ago. "My scouts speak of wolves walking far afield. A man who is kin to them has arranged the coming of the Heir of Kings."


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    "...So, the time has come then," mused Durag.


    "Indeed it has," said Montazus. "We have read the stars. The Heir of Kings has come at last. Her coming may well serve as the footsteps of doom for both our empires."


    "I do not have an Empire, Montazus; I have property and associates," said Durag with a shrug. "Highwatch has my allegiance. Just because they delegate authority to me does not change my allegiance.


    "Still, I do see what you mean. The Conquista has long spoken of this coming moment while rallying against us. And the Dragon Empire knows her companion well."


    "Companion?" asked Montazus, surprised. Had Durag known of this?


    "Yes, Adrian Wrynncurth," said Durag. "I sensed his power; the last time I felt it, I was yet mortal. An ancient soul continually reincarnated. A master necromancer as well.


    "I would very much like to meet him."


    Montazus was not inclined to compromise. "He will burn, like all ancients must."


    "Not so long as our alliance lasts, he won''t," said Durag, shaking his head. "The girl means nothing to me; the same may be said of the humans. However, Wrynncurth is a true master of the art. Well worthy of my respect, I think."


    "I wonder if he will take that as a compliment," noted Montazus.


    "What do you know of the wielding of magic, Montazus?" asked Durag, irritated. "The pyres of your victims burn daily to give you power, and what do you use it for? More pyres? Survival for its own sake is a worthless pursuit."


    "You will never understand the grand purpose of the Sun Soul Empire," said Montazus.


    "I understand it all too well; I merely hold it in contempt," said Durag. "Now, perhaps we should discuss our strategy. I have many resources; I am certain I can stop them."


    Strategy was never Montazus'' preferred pursuit. He''d have much rather have been enjoying the sun on his face in a field of flowers. But faith required sacrifice from all men. And to be without faith was to be nothing.

 Chapter One: Queen Vanessa

    Relma stared down at the ground as the lands passed beneath him. They''d seen only blasted landscape when they had first moved through the Pass of Dragon Bones. Soon, they''d come into green hills and vibrant trees. Now and then, they''d seen villages, and they grew in size. Now and then, they had seen Red Dragons flying toward them. Someone called them back each time. Now, however, there were no villages and no dragons. The tree had become craggy and dangerous. The ground had a blight upon it, and all around them was the scent of decay.


    "We passed the last village nearly an hour ago," said Estela from one of the Black Dragons. "This place seems almost empty now." Her dark hair blew about her as she pulled her blue cloak closer.


    "Well, that is to be expected," said Wrynncurth beneath Relma. "Vanessa told me that this area is kept empty for various reasons. I wager she''ll explain things once we''re face to face."


    On they went.


    Eventually, Relma saw a city in the distance, situated upon a hill. The fortress had been set up, bricks laid on one another. Beyond the walls were many broken buildings, still firmly clinging to existence. Many looked to have been very tall at one point, but none had stayed that way, save one.


    Amid the fallen towers was a single, huge monastery with the emblem of a sun etched into it. Relma wondered what it was that it had symbolized.


    "Wrynncurth, where are we now?" asked Relma.


    "Well, I''ve not been down this way for centuries," said Wrynncurth ruefully. "Judging by the cliffs, I think we''re nearing the old capital."


    "How do you know that?" asked Estela.


    "I don''t, but I recall this place quite well," said Wrynncurth. "I remember there were far fewer castles the last time. When last I was here, this place was all wilderness. Someone has cut back the trees.


    "Come, we''ll land here. I''d rather not go any further today."


    Wrynncurth landed alongside his other dragons, none of whom had spoken. Jomas, who had been silent until now, dismounted and walked to sit on a rock. He stared out into space over the trees, face impassive.


    "Estela, Jomas, how was the flying?" asked Relma.


    For a moment, Jomas did not answer. "...Alright," he said at last. "Are either of you hurt?


    "No, I''m not," said Estela, not looking at him as she sat down far away. "I''m sore all over."


    Since King Tyus had tried to send Relma on this mission to die, Estela had been in a bad mood. She''d sent Jomas with Relma as extra security and to get out of marrying him. Then Wrynncurth had insisted Estela come with them.


    So now they were in a position where King Tyus wanted Relma to die. Estela wanted Jomas to die. Meanwhile, Relma was hoping they all made it out alive. She wished Ajax was here; he''d always been a good companion and could catch animals wherever they went.


    "Here, let me help you with that, Estela," said Relma, moving toward her dark-haired friend.


    Putting a hand on Estela''s shoulder, Estela breathed out. Relma could feel her aches and pains disappearing and felt glad. "I didn''t know healing magic could ease sore limbs."


    "Well, sore limbs are a kind of injury if you think about it," said Relma. "Jomas, do you need help?"


    Jomas said nothing; he was busy polishing his armor.


    "Let me see the map Wrynncurth gave us," said Estela.


    "You could just ask me, old girl," said Wrynncurth.


    Estela ignored him as Relma drew the map and handed it to her. The Knight looked over the data quickly. Finally, she lowered it. "...Well, according to this, we''re in the heartlands of the Dragon Empire."


    "Yes, my information is dated; need not rub it in," said Wrynncurth.


    "But you were so confident about your maps," said Estela sarcastically.


    "Let''s move on, Estela," said Relma.


    Despite being in ruins, the city was beautiful. The walls were overgrown with vines, and all kinds of grass and plants could be seen. Relma saw a tumbled statue in a square, that of a beautiful elven woman. This was the kind of place she''d have loved to play in with Ronald.


    But those happy days in Gel Carn were long behind them. Relma had ambitions to pursue now. "What is this place? It''s beautiful."


    "Nice enough, I suppose," said Wrynncurth ruefully. "Oh, this place was once the ancient city of Car''Qul, a High Elven city. In fact, it was once the greatest of the High Elven cities in this region. And it was the last of the High Elven nations to fall.


    "That statue is of Arasia; she married a human Prince in the city''s waning days. It is said that their descendants have elvish blood in them."


    "That''s ridiculous," said Estela flatly. "Different races can''t crossbreed. Well, except Satyrs. Elves are elves, and humans are humans. And humans are just better."


    "Well, the story involved some divine intervention," mused Wrynncurth. "But I take the point. A shame what happened to this place, though."


    "Did Anoa the Bright conquer them?" asked Relma. She''d learned a great deal about her ancestor and the founder of Harlenor United. Enough to know, he went beyond the realm of warlord and into force of nature.


    The man had singlehandedly reshaped the map of the world. He''d brought down all the old elven kingdoms and ushered in the era of humanity. He''d very nearly succeeded in wiping out the High Elves entirely.


    "Obviously not. Otherwise, we wouldn''t have spent the last age fighting the Dragon Empire," said Estela. Anoa never extended his power this far south, Estela. He went to conquer Haldren instead, to the north.


    "Well, old girl, that''s not strictly true," said Wrynncurth. "There was a jolly deadly try at burning the place, but the rise of Vrengar cut us off. I only came in here a while ago, and it was a bloody dangerous trip.


    "Back then, this place still stood with all its culture. Though most of the population was human, many of the stories were preserved. It seems the people have gone, though. I suppose the last remnants of the old high-elven civilization have been swept away.


    "I shall make a toast to whoever got the broom when we return."


    "And where is Queen Vanessa?" asked Estela. "She was supposed to meet us here."


    Relma glanced at Jomas, who was now shining his shield.


    "Oh, I imagine she''ll arrive a bit late," mused Wrynncurth. "It''s the fashion among Red Dragons for the more important dragon to arrive late. The greater, the later, if you''ll forgive the rhyme."


    "Why do you think she picked this place, though? It''s a ruin?" asked Relma.


    "Isolated," said Jomas suddenly.


    "Hmm?" asked Relma.


    Jomas shrugged. "Easy to kill us. Red Dragons are without honor."


    "Now that''s a bit uncalled for, old chap," said Wrynncurth. "Vanessa isn''t the sort of blackheart to kill in parley, especially not an old friend like myself."


    Estela looked up to the cathedral, and Relma followed her gaze to see the wall''s symbol. "That''s the symbol of Alchara. I think. She usually uses sun imagery.


    "Is she worshipped here?"


    "To an extent, though, everyone was forced to pay homage to Vrengar," said Wrynncurth. "I think they ought to have uprooted Alchara''s brood, but Vrengar was always too tolerant for his own good. He always preferred letting folk mind their own affairs so long as they paid their taxes.


    "Decent enough policy, but can be taken too far, I fear."


    "The Dragon Empire has been waging nonstop war on Escor for centuries. It has made it impossible to communicate with us," said Estela.


    Wrynncurth shrugged. "Well, he always was a paranoid chap. I expect he didn''t want his Empire speaking with others."


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    "That''s a given," said Estela.


    "But I''ve got an extended invitation, owing to the old allegiances," mused Wrynncurth.


    "Allegiances?" asked Relma.


    "Well, Vrengar was the student to my father, Smyngoth," said Wrynncurth. "In fact, he was instrumental in creating the hundred-year plan."


    "I''ve never heard of that; what was it?" asked Relma.


    "Oh, it was a splendid idea for the time, though it seems a bit trite now," said Wrynncurth. "See, in the days when the elder races ruled, a hundred years was a fairly short time. A war might happen once or twice in a thousand years. Though there were skirmishes and hunts, and plenty of them."


    "For humans?" surmised Relma.


    "Yes, a bit regrettable, but ancient history now," said Wrynncurth. It was a remark Relma found rather hypocritical. "Anyway, most plans took ages to finish. A human''s entire lifetime could go by without anything changing all that much. But Vrengar spent time among humans and saw how quickly things moved for them.


    "So he came up with the idea of planning to gain total dominance over all their enemies in a hundred years. We could destroy the enemy through a lightning-fast plan before they could adapt.


    "It worked out jolly good until Anoa the Bright united Harlenor."


    "How was that a problem?" asked Estela.


    "Well, that''s a bit complicated," said Wrynncurth. The original plan was that Elranor would be the patron god of humans. We''d envision a whole series of lesser kingdoms. Using them, we''d disrupt the High Elves'' control. From there, we''d weaken Alchara''s stranglehold on the flights.


    "We never thought Anoa the Bright would successfully unify the humans as a whole.


    "Which, I think, is the reason for confusing the languages. If you cannot communicate with Vrengar''s people, you can''t start a revolution very well."


    "I don''t want to start a revolution; I just want to end the fighting," said Relma.


    "Hold up, look down there," said Jomas in a sharper tone than normal.


    Relma and Estela made their way over to where Jomas was looking down the hill, toward a hole in the wall. Far below, they saw many shambling figures scaling up the hill in the night. There were dozens of them, and even more of them were coming.


    "Are those people?" asked Relma.


    "They''re shambling a bit from the looks of things," mused Estela. "Wrynncurth, could you send one of your friends to help?"


    "Oh, don''t worry, old girl," said Wrynncurth, motioning for the dragons to come forward. These aren''t real dragons; they are soulless creations that obey my will. And we''ll see to them sure enough."


    Two of the dragons, or whatever they were, shot into the sky. The beating of their wings was everywhere as they surged into the sky. Relma watched as they flew into the night. They waited for a while as more of the shambling figures came out, but they did not go past a certain point.


    It was as though they were moving against a hard barrier that they could not pass.


    "So, what did you find?" asked Estela.


    "Well, you don''t need to worry about talking with those chaps," said Wrynncurth. Then he took out his pipe and lit it. "They''re undead."


    "Undead?" asked Relma, horrified at the idea. "But what are they doing here?"


    "Well, there weren''t many of those back in the day," said Wrynncurth. "No more than anywhere else. I wonder how things got here?"


    "A better question is ''Where is everyone?''" muttered Estela. "We stopped seeing any villages a day or two ago. Why didn''t any of those dragons try to speak with us?"


    "Oh, I chatted with them a bit, right quick," said Wrynncurth. "While you were sleeping. Apparently, the number of dead has been rising for a time, but they don''t have much interest in it. Whenever the dead start to walk, they burn them up right quickly.


    "This is where Queen Vanessa agreed to meet us, so we''ll have to stay here for a time."


    "...They''re coming nearer now," said Jomas.


    "Need not worry, look there," said Wrynncurth.


    The undead began to force their way past the barrier, but their flesh began to burn as they did. As they walked forward, the front rank was reduced to ashes and the rank behind that.


    "They are being burned up. But how?" asked Jomas.


    "Simple enough, old chap," said Wrynncurth. "There''s some mighty powerful purification magic here that hasn''t quite fled the world. What''s say we take a look inside the temple, see how things have aged?"


    "Why does no one live here? That is what I want to know," said Estela. "This place seems defensible, and we passed all kinds of civilization coming here.


    "I''d set up a castle here."


    "Maybe they don''t have enough people to defend it," mused Relma. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "They sent an army up against the Pass of Dragon Bones and have been doing it for hundreds of years," said Estela. "They have enough people to populate a city of this size."


    "Well, I''d wager that it was only recently," said Wrynncurth. "Let''s make a run for it."


    And run they did, Wrynncurth loping ahead of them along rooftops and scanning. As they did, Relma felt something setting itself against her. Other things were pressing in from behind.


    They neared the cathedral, and Wrynncurth entered quickly. Within was a statue of a beautiful Goddess, untouched by time. Her garb was of white and seemed to be flowing around them with a gust. On either side were places where two other statues could have put. One of them had been shattered and was broken rubble. The other was there but had been made faceless by rain. They were probably coming through the cracks in the ceiling.


    "See there," said Wrynncurth, voice cheerful. "That''s a statue of Alchara."


    Estela moved forward and kneeled down by what seemed to be incensed. There were also wilted flowers. "These flowers are recent. Someone has left offerings in this place."


    "So you think this place is sacred ground of some kind?" asked Relma.


    "I''d say so. Alchara was still worshipped here when I last came back," said Wrynncurth. Her religion was never fully stamped out, more''s the pity. Though it seems that has changed."


    "Why do you hate Alchara?" asked Jomas.


    Wait, Jomas had picked up on Wrynncurth''s hatred of Alchara? How? Wrynncurth always sounded cheerful, even when talking about his worst enemy.


    "Well, she plagued my entire family and wiped us outright quick," said Wrynncurth. He blew a draft on his pipe. "So, I''ve quite the vendetta with the old harpy."


    "Her religion has people in it," noted Jomas.


    "That much is obvious," said Wrynncurth.


    "Why want all those people wiped out?" asked Jomas.


    "I don''t," said Wrynncurth. "I''d much rather they just realize what a worthless goddess Alchara is."


    "I see you haven''t changed at all, Uncle Wrynncurth," said a voice.


    Relma looked up and saw a beautiful, violet-haired woman walking forward. She wore red-scaled armor and held a halberd in one hand. Wrynncurth smiled. "Vanessa, it''s splendid to see you again, old girl!"


    "Yes, well, you seem well enough," said Vanessa, moving forward. "I wish I could say the same for things here.


    "Relma Artorious, the Heir of Kings.


    "Welcome to the Dragon Empire." Then she looked at Wrynncurth. "Now, perhaps you could explain why you have come here after all this time, Uncle Wrynncurth?"


    "A small bit of negotiation, truth be told," said Wrynncurth. "See, the Kings of Harlenor are getting tired of fighting you. They were hoping to make a truce."


    "A truce?" asked Vanessa. "Why would I seek a truce when things proceed to my benefit?"


    "...Your benefit?" asked Estela. "You are aware we wiped out an entire army of yours, don''t you? Escor is triumphant."


    "True, from your limited perspective," said Vanessa. "However, you value human lives far more than the Dragon Empire. Those who went against your fortress went there in the desire to find death.


    "They sacrificed themselves for the opportunity to someday become Dragons. And by dying, they have saved their families."


    "What do you mean?" asked Estela.


    "We had a famine in the area east of here, and many were starving," said Vanessa. "So I arranged for volunteers to attack the pass of Dragon Bones. In exchange, their families will receive food from other houses. And with fewer mouths to feed, the famine itself is lessened.


    "Among them were many middle-aged men who would have become useless in age. I have liberated them from the fate of becoming old and feeble."


    "But there wasn''t a single man over forty in that army," said Estela. "I saw the corpses."


    "Of course," said Vanessa. "Humans are at their best in the ages between fifteen and forty. After that, they are cursed with the weakness of mind and body. Letting them die to ease the burden of their fellows is a kindness.


    "Their funerals were made before they left their villages."


    "And do you think Escor will stand for endless invasions?" asked Estela. "We are far stronger now than before and are not to be trifled with."


    "You have only one place from where you can invade," said Vanessa. "And we have long prepared for such an assault."


    "Excuse me?" asked Relma.


    "Yes?" asked Vanessa.


    "What would it take to get you to agree to negotiate peace between us?" asked Relma.


    Vanessa paused. "...An interesting question.


    "I would know who you are to ask it first?"


    "I am the Heir of Kings, the last descendant of Anoa the Bright," said Relma.


    Vanessa paused. "...Interesting, very interesting indeed.


    "Very well, then, I shall give you a quest. Complete it, and I shall meet the leaders of Escor for peace negotiations."


    "Name it," said Estela.


    "You must retrieve the Dragonfire Shield from the Island of Conquista," said Vanessa.


    "Island of the Conquista?" asked Estela.


    "Ah, yes, that, of course," said Wrynncurth. "The Conquista of Anoa, I believe they called themselves. Descendants of an invasion sent to conquer this region. I''m surprised they''re still in business."


    "They are," said Vanessa. "At present, we have a non-aggression pact with them, and I cannot afford to break it. As such, you must retrieve the shield with their blessing."


    "Why not just ask them for it?" asked Relma.


    "The Dragonfire Shield was created by Father himself. It was for Anoa''s greatest Knight, Orson," said Vanessa. "Wielding it, Sir Orson could slay several dragons who opposed Vrengar''s rise to become the Red King. However, it was lost during the wars, and we searched for it for many ages.


    "Ultimately, the Conquista found it first.


    "We sought to purchase it from them, but they have refused. And now that Durag has allied with the Sun Soul Empire, we cannot afford to alienate them."


    "Who are they?" asked Estela.


    "Durag is a Lich and a wretchedly powerful one," said Vanessa. "The undead who dwell around this city are his. The walking dead walk on his behalf. He sought to snatch the living and draw them back to his domain.


    "It is said he performs experiments upon those who die and uses their corpses to seize still more. There are tunnels beneath the earth that he digs to emerge in new places."


    "And what of the Sun Soul Empire?" asked Estela.


    "A cult founded by Alchara long ago that has grown a great deal," said Vanessa. "They used to dwell near us but have since become a danger to us. Their religion demands they burn the souls of ancient creatures for unholy rituals.


    "I recommend treading carefully around them. They may go after you, Uncle."


    "So, what now, Estela?" asked Relma.


    "I say we head after the shield right away," said Estela. "Queen Vanessa, are you mobilizing for war now?"


    "No, I have other places to fight battles in now," said Vanessa. "Estal is of secondary concern at best. A convenient way of removing undesirables if I''m feeling less charitable."


    "Would you permit us to see your domain for ourselves?" asked Estela. "And speak to your subjects."


    "I might," said Vanessa before pausing. "Very well, I shall grant you the ability to speak the languages of this world. Return here when you have the shield. I shall know."


    And then she was gone.


    No flash, no change in the wind. She was there one minute and was gone the next. Very impressive.

 Chapter Two: Siege

    With Vanessa''s disappearance, the statue lost part of its glow. Looking at it, Relma felt it looked a bit sad there, all on its own. Upon further examination, she saw that vines were growing up. A crown of flowers was upon her head.


    "Well, this sounds like a jolly good quest we''ve set out on now," said Wrynncurth ruefully. "Still, I''d best first send a message to King Tyus. He''ll need to know the details of this place."


    "I''m going to start a fire, Relma; come with me," said Estela. "Jomas, guard here."


    Relma nodded and turned from the statue to follow Estela. Together, they began to make their way out of the cathedral, looking for wood. Estela, however, seemed bothered by something, and her eyes kept darting around as if expecting an attack.


    "So, things seem to be going well here," said Relma after a moment.


    "How are they going well?" asked Estela bitterly. "We''ll have to go to find this Conquista of Anoa. It''s going to be even more work."


    "Well, at least we''ll be able to learn more about this region. It could help future missions," said Relma.


    "Not really," said Estela. "Queen Vanessa is sending us on this mission to eliminate us. She just doesn''t want to give Wrynncurth a flat refusal. This is what we call an impossible task."


    "Well we just need to achieve it," said Relma with a shrug. "Then it won''t be impossible anymore."


    "Yes, you do that," said Estela as they came to the city''s edge. The wood stood far below them. "We''re not going to find any wood here, are we?"


    "We could head into the woods over there?" said Relma, motioning to them.


    "And risk the undead?" asked Estela.


    Everything was getting colder. Relma shifted. "I guess, but it''s getting cold. We do need wood.


    "Want to get Jomas-"


    "No," said Estela flatly. "The less he''s involved, the better. Now let''s go."


    "Estela, he is your fiancee," said Relma. "Maybe-"


    "Don''t say it," said Estela. "My only hope is that he dies on this mission as quickly as possible."


    And they began to walk down.


    "That''s a horrible thing to say, Estela," said Relma after a moment.


    "Maybe, but it''s the only honorable way I''m getting out of this mess," said Estela. "Come on."


    They made their way down the slope toward the trees. As they did, Relma kept a hand on Lightning Trail, the sword of her ancestors. She didn''t expect it would be of much use, but Relma wasn''t very good at fighting. Mostly, she''d used the thing as a symbol and divine channel, which was pretty good.


    The trees rose around them, and Estela halted and leaned against a tree. "There''s the sticks.


    "Relma, gather them. I''ll stand watch."


    "Right," said Relma.


    Estela didn''t like manual labor, and somebody needed to play guard. So Relma began picking up sticks wherever they had fallen. As she did, she noticed the air was very dry, and the ground was the same.


    "Hmm..." said Estela.


    "What is it?" asked Relma.


    "These trees are very dry," said Estela. "It''s like this forest hasn''t seen any rain in a long time. A lot of these trees are dead.


    "Some sort of curse, no doubt."


    "Maybe we can break it," mused Relma.


    Then she saw a walking corpse coming around the tree, hands outstretched. The mouth of the creature was open in a silent moan as mottled hands stretched out. "Estela!" cried Relma. "Look out!"


    Estela darted away, drew her sword, and cleaved the thing''s head in half with one, swift movement. "Undead, wonderful. Keep gathering the sticks; we might freeze to death without them."


    More of them came out of the woods, and Estela started hacking. She moved this way and that, cleaving them down as they went. Relma quickly started picking up as many sticks as she could and bundling them together with a rope. One of the creatures came out of the underbrush, grasping for her, only to take a knife to the forehead.


    "Estela, let''s make a run for it," said Relma, grabbed the dagger and retrieving it.


    "Right, don''t drop the firewood!" said Estela, slashing down two more.


    Then Relma noticed something. Many of the bodies were pulling themselves towards them on cut limbs. Estela motioned for her to run, and Relma did, ducking under a dead man''s arms. Scaling up the hill, she glanced back to see Estela scaling up behind her, cloak billowing in the wind.


    She hacked and slashed as waves of undead came at her, beating a fighting retreat. And behind her fell a trail of limbs, hewn bodies, and smashed faces. These undead creatures had no semblance of humanity Relma could see. Their flesh was dried and mummified, and their bones brittle.


    And not a sound was made from them as they fell.


    Eventually, Relma and Estela had retreated into the aura provided by Alchara''s statue. Mentally, Relma wondered why Alchara would help the likes of Wrynncurth. Perhaps she was trying to help Estela or Relma. Or perhaps the aura was maintained for everyone.


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    Wrynncurth met them at the top of the ridge. He was sitting on a rock, smoking a pipe and scratching runes in the dirt. "Ah, Estela, Relma, off gathering firewood, are you?"


    "Something like that," said Estela, wiping her blade off on the grass.


    "Might want to tell us where you''re going next time, old girl, no sense in taking risks," said Wrynncurth. "Hmm, that''s rather a lot of undead, isn''t it?"


    "The shield should stop them," said Estela, looking down.


    Sure enough, on came the undead. Now they were coming in far greater numbers, and even as they pushed, they were burned away. Yet more were always coming as hordes of the corpses shambled out. If anything, their numbers were increasing.


    "...They aren''t turning back, are they?" asked Relma.


    "No, they''re not," mused Wrynncurth. "Some jolly old chap has it in his mind to get his undead up here. He must want one of you quite a bit."


    "Where''s Jomas?" asked Estela.


    "At the cathedral, I think," said Wrynncurth. "You shan''t need him. I''ll take care of this right quick. Hold my pipe, will you!"


    Estela took the pipe. "Right."


    And then Wrynncurth spurred out into the air. As he did, the golems went with him, souring out over the hordes. The three went with lightning speed, and as they did, they spat acid. Or Relma assumed they were spitting acid; she could hardly follow it.


    Wrynncurth and his golems with swoop down, and then lines of the things would be melted. They did it with practiced ease, and with every passing moment, more undead were burned away. In what had to have been less than a minute, his acid had destroyed...


    Relma wasn''t really sure.


    Tanith Telus had killed two black dragons Wrynncurth sent after her. How had she done that? She should have been melted in five seconds.


    "...I''ve next seen Wrynncurth in action like this," said Relma. "He''s always seemed so nice before, but this is..."


    "Lethal," said Estela, biting her lip. "They''re so fast and maneuverable."


    Then Wrynncurth and his golems started swooping down to grab undead. As they pulled them up, their jaws snapped to devour the living corpses. They snapped up limbs and bodies in an instant, while Wrynncurth came back. He was presently munching on the skull of an undead as he took back his pipe.


    "Well, I must say, this is quite a show today," said Wrynncurth. "I''ve spent quite a lot of acid on these chaps. I''ll need to eat a lot when this is over. Fortunately, the undead are an ideal meal."


    "You eat undead?" asked Estela, looking a bit green.


    "Of course, old girl," said Wrynncurth. "Not safe for either of you, but we Black Dragons are undead after a fashion. The energies within allow us to restore ourselves easily enough.


    "Well, why not go out there with all your golems?"


    "Oh, I could, not mistake, but just one is keeping them at bay," said Wrynncurth. "I think it best to vary our time spent out there. This way, I can keep it up nonstop."


    "How many more are coming out of those woods?" asked Estela, watching the horde grow.


    "Rather more than I can kill alone, I think," said Wrynncurth. "Not to worry, I''ll..." And then there was a horn call. "Oh, dear."


    "What is it?" asked Relma.


    "That''s the horn of Stormstrike," said Estela. "Come on!" Drawing her sword, she raced out, and Relma followed. The horn calls continued, growing louder as they moved through decaying streets. Suddenly, they came out and found Jomas fighting what seemed a legion.


    The huge man was swinging around his hammer repeatedly. Wherever it fell, lines of undead were shattered to dust. He blew his horn, even as he did, and more fell to him.


    "Damn it, come on, Relma!" said Estela. "We''ve got to stop them!"


    "I thought you wanted Jomas to die," said Relma.


    "That doesn''t mean I''ll abandon him to be eaten by these things," said Estela. "If Wrynncurth is worried, then that means-" S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Jomas continued to swing, and the undead began to be destroyed even faster. Relma suddenly realized that the undead horde was not advancing at all. If anything, it seemed to be slowing down.


    "-he won''t last long," said Estela. "So, uh, should we go to his aid?


    "Relma, stay back and heal us if we get injured."


    Estela rushed in, hewing down the creatures. She was going to rescue someone who had the situation completely under control. Relma suspected that Estela and she were in more danger than Jomas before they arrived. The man seemed to have the strength of ten giants.


    As Estela waded into the combat, Relma drew out Lightning Trail. As she did, she saw the number of undead increasing. The creatures were slow and fought with no skill, but they seemed to be gaining ground little by little. One grabbed ahold of Jomas'' arm, while another threw itself at his feet. He jerked and threw on away, while Estela covered him, yet more were coming.


    This wasn''t good. Sooner or later, they''d be overrun.


    Hang on, perhaps Relma could use Lightning Trail here. Raising the sword, she began to focus her power on it. While Relma hadn''t had a lot of practice, she''d had some general principles down. Focusing her will through it, she saw the sword catch the light.


    "By the power of Elranor..." murmured Relma. "Um, by the power..." She felt ridiculous. "Nevermind.


    "Be banished!"


    A wave of light shot from her. As it washed over the undead, they collapsed, shrieking. Soon, they were reduced to ashes. Relma felt their tortured spirits fading away to whatever life awaited them. And suddenly, she felt exhausted.


    Estela and Jomas looked up. As they did, Relma collapsed to her knees.


    "Relma, did you do that?" asked Estela.


    "Yes, but um, I... I''m a bit tired from it," said Relma, trying to stand.


    And then the undead came over the hill in still greater numbers, and there seemed to be a wall behind them. They moved faster, and they''d hardly had a chance to recover before they were fighting. Estela hauled Relma beneath an arch as Jomas fended them off.


    Something had enraged the spirit behind these things, and now it was focused more against them. Even now, the undead were shambling around them, scaling over fallen pillars. Soon, they were forced to withdraw again and again.


    Then, as they ran, Relma tripped over a pillar and fell. Lightning Trail was flung from her grasp. Estela and Jomas turned to aid her, only to be barred by many creatures. Hands gripped Relma, dragged her back by the hair, and as she fought, more arms stopped her struggles.


    Relma heard Estela scream, and then Ajax was there.


    The wolf-boy surged out of the ruins with a howl, and as he did, the Undead cowered before him. His eyes glinted red as he ripped through them systematically, smashing, crushing. Finally, he caught those who Relma was gripped by, and they dropped her and fled.


    Not that they got far.


    Ajax''s howls were heard throughout the day as he tore through the streets, leaping off walls. Relma, however, found herself in a daze, hardly understanding what was happening around her. At last, however, she awoke and found Ajax looking down at her, his white hair on her shoulder.


    "Ajax, you''re here," said Relma.


    "Of course I am," said Ajax, sitting up quickly. "I saw you and Wrynncurth flying, and I''ve been following behind for some time. What are you doing out here? This entire forest is crawling with the undead."


    "We''d better check with Estela and Jomas," said Relma, looking around. She was back in the cathedral now.


    Estela and Jomas came through, weapons and armor bloodied, not with their blood. Ajax looked to Estela, who came forward and wiped off her blade on some grass. "Ajax, what are you doing here?"


    "Saving you," said Ajax simply, as more howls emanated.


    "Why hasn''t someone cleared this place out?" asked Relma. "These undead are a threat to everyone."


    "From what I gather, it''s usually only an occasional snatching," said Ajax. "But the wolves in this place tell me that a vast undead column spilled over the rivers. Others in surrounding areas all came to this place.


    "Where''s Wrynncurth."


    "I don''t know," said Relma. "We ran to help Jomas. Last we saw, he was holding off the undead."


    "There he is!


    Then Wrynncurth came in through one of the holes in the roof. The light was dying now, and in it, he looked very formidable. He landed, folding his wings, but suddenly collapsed to one knee. Relma saw that he was covered in wounds.


    "Back news, chaps," said Wrynncurth. "It seems this whole city is crawling with undead. They''re coming at us from all sides, and I don''t wager we''ll be able to stop them all."


    This was going to end badly, wasn''t it?

 Chapter Three: The Stand

    Estela swiftly led them up a set of damaged stairs to a higher level. Relma had missed these before, they''d been hidden behind a shattered pillar. As they climbed, she glanced out a window. There she saw the shambling monsters moving through the ruins. Ajax walked behind, sniffing the air. Relma was between them, helping Wrynncurth up the stairs.


    "Why are we going this way?" asked Jomas.


    "I saw a fountain on the higher levels that are working," said Estela. "Don''t ask me how. There was only one way into that area, and it''s up a staircase. One man could hold off an army for hours.


    "We''ll rotate defenders and have two people on watch. One in front and one on support." Turning around a corner, she rushed into a large room that looked like it had once been used for prayers. Sure enough, there was a fountain springing out clear water.


    Relma realized how thirsty she was and moved forward to drink from it.


    "You want us to go into a dead end?" asked Ajax.


    "We''re trapped, either way, Ajax," said Estela. "And this room has a fountain. Now, at least they can only come at us from one direction."


    "Yes, and we can''t break out," said Ajax.


    No one responded to that.


    "Ajax, you''re on the first watch," said Estela. "You''ll kill those things as they come, and rotate with Jomas in an hour. Then I''ll take your place.


    "Relma tend to Wrynncurth, and anyone who gets hurt.


    "Wrynncurth, take an inventory of our supplies and try to ration them to last as long as possible." As she did, Estela threw off her pack, and Relma did the same. Jomas and the others followed suit, except Ajax, who didn''t have a pack.


    "One of them was taken down by a spear throw and killed by a cyclops," said Wrynncurth. "The other I''ve already sent away. If I''m killed here, I imagine I can possess the chap."


    "Good," said Estela. "Go out abroad and see if you can find us help. We''ll hold here until then."


    Ajax peered up from the threshold of the door. Outside, Relma could hear the shambling of feet walking into the cathedral. She wondered if Alchara had released her defenses or hadn''t been able to maintain them. In the air, Relma sensed a sort of power still here.


    Perhaps Alchara had decided it wasn''t worth the effort to save an enemy.


    "Estela, what is your plan here?" asked Ajax.


    "What does any Lord under siege plan?" asked Estela, flourishing her sword. "To break the enemy army.


    "What are you doing here? I thought you were scouting for my father?"


    "I''m scouting for Relma; King Tyus can be food for my pack for all I care," said Ajax. "And for the record, he wants to invade."


    "What?" said Relma. "But why?"


    "Why do you think? His son died in the wars here, and he wants a permenant end to them," said Ajax.


    "Why would a father want to do that now?" asked Estela. "It''s not a smart move."


    "He''s beginning to think that we stand a chance of winning," said Ajax. "And I''ve been sent all over the place mapping things. Arengeth is trying to reign him in, but someone brought in all the satyrs. We''ve got a huge army and nothing to do with it."


    "Do you think we could find some kind of target?" asked Relma, beginning to hear Wrynncurth''s wounds. They were deep, and working at them was difficult. "Maybe one no one will mind being destroyed."


    And then the undead came up the stairs toward them. Ajax howled as they climbed, and some of them fell dead. Others shrank back before more pushed forward. Ajax howled again, and once again, they broke. So it began, the undead amassing in greater numbers on the stairs until some were falling off.


    Soon they were nearing Ajax.


    "This is not what I expected to be doing when I started this quest," said Ajax.


    And then he howled and went berserk, charging forward to slash and tear at the monster. The creatures were ripped and shredded, falling back. Those that lay hands on Ajax lost them shortly thereafter. Soon he''d sent them falling back, and a wall of bodies lay upon the stairs.


    Yet more were scaling up over it even now.


    "What are you doing?!" said Estela. "We''re supposed to be holding our position, not sallying forth!"


    "I''m an aggressive fighter," said Ajax, having several scratch marks on him. "You demonstrate the technique if you want to tell me what to do." And he stalked away from the entrance, Estela quickly taking his place. Even as she did, she cleaved down an undead, then another, then another.


    Ajax moved over to Relma and kneeled down. "Just heal me quickly; I need to stand by for my turn.


    "Adrian, any news?"


    "None yet," said Wrynncurth. "My golems cannot speak directly, sad to say, so I shall have to write my message. It is now very near one of the palaces. I''ll try to communicate with them." Relma finished a major wound and moved on to another. "...Hmm."


    "What?" asked Relma.


    "Oh, my golem is dead," said Wrynncurth. "Someone just put a spear through them. Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk.


    "How are things, Estela, old girl!"


    "I''m busy!" snapped Estela, hacking down more of them.


    Relma quickly healed Ajax; his wounds weren''t serious. It seemed to her that killing these undead was not really a life or death struggle. Rather, it was more of a prolonged and dangerous bout of hacking wood. They made no attempt to defend themselves and could only come one at a time. So all you had to do was hack them down repeatedly.


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    And Estela did just that.


    It went on and on, and soon she began to tire. Switching with Jomas, Relma then healed her scratches. She watched as Jomas pulverized the undead with strikes. His expression never seemed to change for anything. Soon, he began to tire and switched with Ajax, who Estela let burrow his spare sword.


    Ajax then took to hacking them down one by one as they came. And all the while, they waited under siege, drinking water. And Relma realized this was never going to work. Sooner or later, someone would make a mistake, and everything would start all over again. But what power could they call on to fix this?


    Of course.


    "Alchara," whispered Relma, so Wrynncurth couldn''t hear. "I''m sure you have plenty of reason to dislike me for my heritage. And Wrynncurth for his. But if tales are told of how we annihilated an entire army of undead with aid from your temple. You''ll come out of it looking pretty well."


    And so the drudgery continued.


    On it stretched, and light coming through holes in the roof grew dimmer. The rotation of combat continued, and soon there were corpses filling the stairs. As one fell, others fell off the stairs into the room below. And still on came the walking dead.


    "How many did you see out there?" asked Relma, who had nearly finished healing Wrynncurth.


    "More than we could kill with swords, I wager," said Wrynncurth. "Still, if anyone falls, I could breathe acid into them. "There must be thousands upon thousands of them out there."


    "No sign of them letting up," mused Relma.


    "Afraid not," said Wrynncurth. "Though they might have been running out of bodies just beyond the cathedral."


    "Estela, this isn''t going to work," said Relma. "We could hold out for a while here, but sooner or later we''re going to make a mistake."


    "Not to judge, Relma, old girl, but we don''t seem to have much in the way of alternatives," said Wrynncurth.


    Relma looked up at the ceiling. "What about up?"


    "Hmm?" said Wrynncurth.


    "Could you melt through the roof up there?" asked Relma.


    "I suppose I could, and I''m tall enough to bring you lot up," mused Wrynncurth. "What say you, chaps? Up for a rooftop escape?"


    "Just do it!" snapped Estela.


    "Jolly good then, step back," said Wrynncurth, rising up.


    Breathing out, he shot a thin line of acid onto the wall above. Moving it quickly, he halted the spray. Soon there was a hissing, and the ceiling fell inward. The ground shook as it collapsed over the floor. It landed, leaving a ramp leading into the roof above.


    "That''ll do," said Wrynncurth. "Estela, you'' scale up first, then Relma, then Ajax, and Jomas last of all. Quick now, while we can.


    "Ajax, do some howling, would you?"


    "Whatever you say," said Ajax, who had been standing by.


    Then Ajax howled, and the undead scrambled backward. The walls of bodies shifted and fell backward. Estela sheathed her sword and scaled upwards, slipping on the rocks once. Then Wrynncurth turned to Relma. "Come on, up, up quick. Relma, you next."


    Relma nodded and tried for it. She was careful to snatch up her pack while she did so and Estela''s too. She''d left it behind.


    Pulling herself up on hands and knees, she looked down and saw the undead kept at bay, for now. Moving further, Estela offered a hand, and she took it. Hauling herself up, she looked down at Wrynncurth. "Right, I''m up."


    Jomas came next as Ajax was gradually forced backward. Finally, just as Jomas reached the roof, Wrynncurth snatched Ajax and surged upwards. Landing on the roof, Relma looked around. She was standing upon a tiled roof, and all around her was the city. And every building was alive with the walking dead.


    As the undead tried to scale after them, Jomas struck the ramp with his hammer. The stone splintered and broke, before collapsing downward.


    "Well, we''ve made it into the roof," said Estela, shivering in a gust. "They won''t be getting up here easily, now what?"


    "They can''t have covered the entire city," mused Ajax. "Probably only most of it. Wrynncurth, could you ferry us over to that structure over there?"


    Wrynncurth looked over to a tower near the outskirts. "I would, but I''m mighty tired at the moment. Carrying all of you, one at a time seems beyond my abilities. I need a bit to rest. And anyway, we can''t afford to get separated."


    "I believe that I can be of some help with that, cursed one," said a voice.


    Relma looked up and saw the very image of the statue of Alchara, now in the flesh. Her hair flowed around her with radiant beauty. Wrynncurth snarled in hatred and moved forward. "Alchara.


    "What cursed fate brought you to this place?"


    "I might say the same for you," noted Alchara. "Given that you''ve caved in the roof of my cathedral."


    "We don''t have time for this," said Estela. "Why are you here, and what does it have to do with us?"


    "I thought I might offer to reactivate some of the spellwork on this city to assist you," said Alchara with a shrug. "As an act of goodwill. I can create a bridge of light that can lead to the far side of this city. From there, you can escape.


    "The undead are focused mostly in this part of the city. Move swiftly enough, and you may escape." S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You have nothing we need, bitch," snarled Wrynncurth.


    "Do you have an alternative?" asked Alchara flatly. "Or would you prefer to die by the hand of the undead?"


    "You misunderstand me," said Wrynncurth. "I am perfectly capable of saving myself and several others." Then, surging forward, he snatched Relma and Estela in his talons. He leaped off the roof, wings beating. Soon, they were dangling in midair, trying to reorient herself. The wind howl through her hair, and it was cold. The scent of death was in it.


    "Wrynncurth, what are you doing?!" said Estela. "Ajax and Jomas are still back there!"


    "I''ll go back for them after I drop you off, old girl," said Wrynncurth.


    Wrynncurth shot over the trees and descended into them, landing down. Dropping Estela and Relma, he lay down for a moment.


    "Wrynncurth, are you sure about this?" asked Estela. "Her help could have-"


    "It''s principle, old girl," said Wrynncurth. "If I accept help from her, then I must forgive and forget what was done to my people that I shall not do.


    "I should not have had cordial tea with her, let alone put myself in her debt.


    "This should be far enough. Stay here."


    And he shot off in a blur, flying up over the city. As they did, Estela and Relma got behind a tree, watching as undead began to wander over the edge toward them. Perhaps by some spell of Alchara, the wards flared to life, and the scattered few were burned apart.


    "...The undead are coming this way. Who is directing them?" asked Estela. "They can''t just be mindless."


    "I don''t know," mused Relma, "but I hope Wrynncurth, Jomas, and Ajax get here soon."


    Wrynncurth came back, carrying Jomas as he did. He landed and collapse to his haunches, drawing out his pipe and lighting it.


    "Wrynncurth, are you alright?" asked Relma.


    "Fine enough," said Wrynncurth. "No word on where Ajax is, though. He wasn''t on the roof when I got there."


    "I''m here," said Ajax, emerging from the trees. "As soon as Wrynncurth took you off the roof, the undead changed tactics and went after you. I used the confusion to slip away."


    "What about Jomas?" asked Relma. "You left him?"


    "Yeah," said Ajax. "Why wouldn''t I? Wrynncurth was coming back for him. He couldn''t have made it out by stealth, and the dragon said he couldn''t carry all of us. So I took things into my own paws."


    "Should we find a place to hide and rest there?" asked Jomas.


    "We can rest when we''re dead," said Estela, "assuming there are no necromancers around. Come quick, into the trees.


    "Does anyone have the packs?"


    "I um, I was wearing mine," said Relma. "And I have yours, Estela."


    No one else said anything. Ajax shrugged.


    "Damn it," said Estela. "No matter, as Ronald would say, better short rations than short a head."


    "Wise words," said Wrynncurth.


    Together they moved on into the woods, even as the undead began to come after them. Relma felt very tired, and everyone else looked worse. Ajax kept sniffing at the air. "Why do you think Alchara manifested there in these ruins?" asked Relma suddenly.


    "Who knows or cares?" snapped Ajax.


    "It could be relevant to our plans," said Estela. "Even if we aren''t accepting her help, we should know."


    "Well, if I were to hazard a guess, I should say that she likely has a great deal of innate power. One drives out the undead," said Wrynncurth. "Alchara is a manifestation of nature''s harmony. No doubt, the whore sensed my presence and let the undead in.


    "She''d love to see me dissected; I''ll tell you that."


    "Well, why would she offer to help us then?" asked Relma.


    "Because it would give her power over you, Relma," said Estela. "If she saved you, you would owe her something. If ever you came into your inheritance in full, that kind of debt is a powerful thing.


    "She''d need only to save you from a problem she herself created."


    "There''s no proof of that," scoffed Ajax. "For all we know, Alchara''s power was weakening. She probably couldn''t afford to confront whatever will broke in here."


    "Are you really coming to that butcher''s defense, Ajax old boy?" asked Wrynncurth, voice slightly disapproving.


    "No," said Ajax, giving him a flat. "I''m saying there might not anything to defend her for. Alchara hasn''t been a significant player in ages.


    "Besides, if you had the chance to sick an army of zombies on her and didn''t know Relma, you would have done the same thing."


    Wrynncurth shrugged. "...I jolly well should not have. Zombies are an inefficient tool, all quantity without any quality. They''re clumsy and might well eat someone who isn''t my enemy.


    "That kind of weapon is bad business.


    "Either way, I suppose it isn''t worth chatting on the subject. Alchara has nothing on us, and we are free."


    "For how long?" asked Estela. "Undead don''t need to rest. Even if we move faster than them, they''ll catch up in the night."


    "Oh sure enough, but their handlers do," said Wrynncurth. "Intelligent undead must sleep now and then, even if they don''t close their eyes. Minds need rest now and then, you know, even if they are in corpses.


    "We need only outrun them."


    "I have a better plan," said Ajax, before howling into the air. The sound rang throughout the wood, and Estela looked up in horror.


    "You''ll draw them right too us!" said Estela.


    "We''ll draw something closer first," said Ajax, as out of the shadows came many wolves. "Here are my kin."


    "What did you do?" asked Relma.


    "I''m setting up a spell of sorts," said Ajax. "These ones will encircle the main column of the undead. You''ll rest here, for now, I''ve got work to do."


    Then Ajax disappeared with his kind.


    And they waited.


    Howls occasionally echoed throughout the wood, met with the moans of the dead. They seemed to bounce off the trees over and over again. Relma, Estela, and Jomas ate their rations and waited. Little by little, Ajax returned, looking very pleased with himself.


    "We must have destroyed thousands of their spells," said Ajax. "We shattered their enchantments, and I even got a look at their handlers!"


    "Handlers? What do you mean?" asked Estela.


    "He was a cyclops, a huge one with an eye of bright green," said Ajax. "With him were a number of dwarves. The wolves here call him Akar.


    "Anyway, I coordinated with the other wolves and began mass howling. Their voices meshed with mine and took on some of the power.


    "We need not worry about those undead for a while; I''ll tell you. They''re trying to run the opposite direction.


    "Now come on, let''s not stick around here anymore."


    "I hate zombies," muttered Jomas.


    "I think we all agree with that," said Wrynncurth.


    No one argued.


    Relma, however, made a mental note to rebuild this place someday. She''d like to see it restored to what it once was.

 Chapter Four: The Heartlands

    The next few days were miserable.


    It rained regularly, and they trudged through the mud. It wasn''t long before they were soaking wet and filthy. Estela insisted they move, and droplets of water soaked their cloaks. At the same time, they had several more near misses with the undead. Here, Ajax''s wolves proved invaluable in driving them off, bouncing their howls around.


    But a choice between neverending tides of undead and howling wolves did not help Relma sleep. Food soon ran short, so they had to ration it. Relma, of course, was the one who did the rationing since she''d learned the trick from Ronald. Said food was largely dried things given by Escor and anything but tasty. Rainwater was all they had to drink, and it had a foul taste. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Of course, soon enough, they were missing it. The rain stopped suddenly, and they walked through parched and dying woods. Soon, their mouths were dry from the heat, and everyone felt bleary.


    "So what now?" muttered Estela as they journeyed.


    "There are some villages near here," said Ajax. "If we make for them, we should be able to get some help and supplies there. But it''s a few day''s journey out there, so we''d better make our supplies count."


    "Relma, can you pass me your water skin," said Estela, voice parched.


    "Yes," said Relma, offering it to her.


    Estela took it and drank a mouthful. "We''ll each take a mouthful and move on.


    "You next, Relma."


    Relma drank it, then passed it to Ajax, who shrugged. "I''ve already got a water skin, and I''m not sharing it with any of you."


    "Right, sorry," said Relma.


    Estela looked annoyed at this. Meanwhile, Relma opted to pass the water skin to Jomas and then Wrynncurth, who refused it.


    "Oh, no need to worry, I don''t need to drink," said Wrynncurth. "Not for a very long time.


    "Jomas, you have the rest," said Estela.


    Jomas drank it, nodding. Then Estela looked to Ajax. "Now, Ajax, we need to get to somewhere with water."


    One of Ajax''s wolves spoke to him, and Ajax glanced at him. "He says there is a stream near here. Come on, we''ll find it."


    On they went until they came to the stream. It was mostly dried up, but there was still a bit of water flower. They had a hard time filling up their canteens as they did and ended up sticking around there for a while.


    "This place has been getting steadily worse," said Ajax. "All the undead wandering around is sapping the life from this place. Where they walk, life weakens."


    "Wonderful," said Estela. "And there''s no end to them, either. How is anyone still alive in this place?"


    "My kin are actually very impressed," said Ajax. "We''ve killed a lot of undead. As far as I can tell when they die, the life energy they sap is restored to the land. We''ve probably done a lot of good for the environment."


    "Isn''t that what happened to the Dusk Lands?" asked Relma. "All the undead that were raised there sapped away the lifeforce of the land."


    "More or less," said Estela. "That and Adrianeth''s invasion."


    "Finish up," said Ajax, filling his canteen. "I''ve been scouting out this whole place. These ones came out of the ground in several critical areas. I''ve set my wolves watching; they''ll give me a howl if anything comes out of there-"


    And then there was a howl.


    "That sounds like a howl to me," said Wrynncurth.


    "Ah, so they''re retreating," said Ajax, smiling.


    "Retreating?" asked Relma. "Undead do that?"


    "Yes, fleeing back through a passage east of here, into the Road of Ancient Stone," said Ajax. "We must have done enough damage that their handlers don''t want to risk losing anymore.


    "Even the hordes of hell have limited numbers."


    "Perhaps Father could use those passages to invade the enemy stronghold," mused Estela.


    "Don''t you remember the last time we had a showdown in the Road of Ancient Stone?" asked Ajax. "Relma led Lucius'' army straight to us."


    "Yes," said Estela. "And we won. As a result, we are now far stronger."


    Ajax sighed. "Fine, have it your way. I''ll send Arengeth the details in my next report.


    "What is your goal anyway? Conquest?"


    "We''re on a quest to find the Dragonfire Shield," said Relma. "It''s held by the Conquista of Anoa, which is set on an island."


    "Oh sure, great, that''s great," scoffed Ajax. "More Harlenorians."


    "What do you have against us?" asked Relma.


    "Nothing at all," said Ajax. "I''d just hoped that if I was going into a realm no one had been in centuries, it wouldn''t be more of the same. Isn''t there anywhere Anoa hasn''t invaded?"


    "Probably not, no," said Relma. "I haven''t heard of anywhere he isn''t well known.


    "He was the greatest King who ever lived."


    "Well, I''m not sure about that," mused Wrynncurth. "He was great, but I haven''t met every King."


    "I guess not," said Estela.


    They walked on, and things began to improve. There was more green beneath their feet, and Ajax was able to find some animals to hunt. The leaves on the trees became far greener as well.


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    "The woods are changing; the land is becoming less tainted," mused Estela.


    At last, however, they got out of the forest and saw before them the village.


    The village before them was not like those in Escor. The buildings were made of white stone and had slanted roofs with red tiles. The fields around them were prosperous and green, a marked contrast to the woods from before. People were working in the fields.


    However, there were also men standing by with spears and shields. They bore silver wooden necklaces around their necks that showed a dragon claw. But some spell of Wrynncurth let them evade their watch.


    "Here we are," said Ajax. "For what little value human civilization is. Honestly, can''t you just warp the trees into natural buildings like normal people?"


    "No," said Estela. "Nature sided with the elves. Our civilization was founded by setting fire to nature. They''d have starved us to death if we hadn''t ruled by terror.


    "And we''re still not fond of them."


    "I am," said Relma.


    "Yes, but I make the decisions," said Estela. "In any case, I haven''t seen that kind of roof design before. How do they afford the shingles?"


    "They don''t usually build new structures," said Ajax. "My kin tell me that most villages use the same buildings through multiple families. Dragon Lords own the houses themselves, or so I think. Sometimes, families are evicted and replaced with new ones.


    "Most wolves don''t understand how civilization works. We don''t particularly care either."


    "Then why do they obey you?" asked Relma.


    "Because I''m superior," said Ajax. "Their master by nature. I bring order to their universe and tell them how best to survive."


    "Isn''t that civilization?" asked Jomas.


    And then Relma saw something. It was a huge circle of stones, and within it were several circles of people. At the center were a number of beautiful women clad in red silk dresses. They were chained to the ground but not struggling. Around them was a circle of men standing where they were, older and very fit. Then there were a series of less impressive-looking people, all of them injured, old, or sick. Among them were deformed children.


    Wearing only a loincloth, a priest stood on the outskirts, flanked by guards. He spoke harshly, and Relma tried to make out the words.


    "What is that?" asked Relma. "Some sort of ceremony?"


    "I can understand them..." said Estela.


    Little by little, Relma began to make out the priest''s words. "Great one, take these maimed, bold, and maidens! Release their souls from their broken forms through cleansing fire! Let them be found worthy of your form!"


    "Oh, that''s the sacrificial pit where those fed to dragons are born," said Ajax.


    A cry could be heard, and Relma''s throat went dry. "Is that a baby? They''re sacrificing."


    "Oh, yes, I guess they''re planning to eat the child," said Ajax. "Probably deformed at birth or something. Better than starving to death, I guess. It''s just nature taking its course."


    Suddenly, there was a roar. From the air came a huge dragon. Relma had seen Red Dragons distantly during the siege of the Pass of Dragon Bones. But up close, they were like what she''d expected Wrynncurth to be¡ªonly far larger and far more terrifying.


    "We can''t just stand here," said Estela.


    "I shouldn''t do that, Estela, old girl," said Wrynncurth, smoking his pipe. Where had he got the tobacco? "Not unless you mean to alienate their society and raise the children yourself."


    "I know, but-" began Estela.


    A gust of wind swept through their hair as the red-scaled beasts descended, flapping their wings. As it landed on the ground, the ground beneath their feet shook. The beast breathed flames downward, and Relma could feel the heat. There was a scream, and in an instant, the entire ring of stones was ringed by infernos.


    Red energy surged from the ring and into the beast who roared skyward. As it did, the flames dissipated, and no trace of those who had been within was there. The dragon gave Wrynncurth a scornful glance, then turned and flew away.


    "Well, Evren''s certainly grown up since last we met. Let''s not tarry," said Wrynncurth. "We''ve introductions to make!"


    And he began to make his way toward the circle. As they did, one of the guards saw them and drew his sword. "Halenorians! Ring the alarm and kill them quickly! They must not interrupt the ritual!"


    "No need for that, we''re here on behalf of Queen Vanessa?" said Wrynncurth.


    The guards looked at one another. "...They speak our language. How?"


    "Queen Vanessa can allow men to speak with outsiders and the reverse. It may be that they are those we were told to look for," said the priest. "What were you doing in the Woods of the Dead?"


    "Fighting undead," said Estela flatly.


    "But why were you doing that?" asked the priest.


    "They attacked us," said Estela,


    "But what were you doing in the Woods of the Dead in the first place?" asked the priest.


    "We''re Running from the undead that attacked us," said Estela. Now, she was deliberately infuriating the man.


    "...You aren''t making this easy at all," noted the priest.


    "We are here on a quest for Queen Vanessa," said Estela flatly. "To retrieve the Dragonfire Shield. In exchange, we hope to gain peace between our peoples."


    "How did you get in here in the first place? And what is that monstrosity behind you?" asked the priest.


    "My name is Adrian Wrynncurth, truth be told, an old friend of Queen Vanessa," said Wrynncurth. "Jolly good to meet you, old chap. May I ask the occasion of this ritual, and your name?"


    "I am Brandus," said the priest, donning a robe. As he did, he glanced back to where several other people were being led out into the circle. "Behind me are those who will be sacrificed to Lord Bryag when he arrives."


    "Ah, so Bryag has come to rule this place," said Wrynncurth. "Jolly, it''s good to know he managed to take control of himself."


    "Well, in truth, Lord Bryag has no domain or hoard of his own," said the priest, looking away.


    "No hoard?" asked Wrynncurth. "There must be some mistake; he was entitled to nearly half of what was passed to Vrengar when I was last here."


    "Yes, well, things have changed since then," said Brandus. "It isn''t my place to discuss the matter. Lord Bryag is now given a tribute of captives in exchange for guarding the river leading into the land of Durag. He''ll come to the aid of these lands and others in exchange for this tribute."


    "And who does rule this land?" asked Estela.


    "This is the domain of Lord Evren," said the priest. "I''m not supposed to oversee this sacrifice. Priests only oversee their own Dragon Lord''s sacrifices. To do otherwise is disrespectful."


    "Who are all these people you''re sacrificing?" asked Estela.


    "Criminals are in the outer regions," said Brandus. "The maidens are tied within the second circle, and in the third are people of no use. Evren doesn''t want any humans who cannot pull their weight remaining in his villages-"


    All of a sudden, darkness fell over the sun. The wind died down, but a noise like thunder echoed through the air. Relma gazed upward and thought momentarily that she was looking at a flying continent. But it was a living creature.


    "It''s Lord Bryag!" said Brandus. "Get back! Get back!"


    They ran backward, and Bryag descended from the clouds. As his feet were planted upon the ground, Relma staggered to keep her feet. As he rose, his eyes like fire, the clouds parted from his wings'' beat. A whirlwind seemed to be rising from them, and her hair was flying behind her.


    Then he unleashed his flames.


    The blast was contained within the circle. And yet as it struck downward, Relma recoiled at the heat. They must have been sixty yards away, and yet she felt like she was inches from a roaring hearth. The light of his fire was blinding.


    And then he roared.


    The echo was deafening, and Relma finally lost her feet. She could hear nothing for a few moments later but a hollow ringing.


    And when she looked up, Bryag was gone.


    Wrynncurth blew some smoke rings from where he was sitting on a rock, undisturbed. "...Well, Bryag has certainly grown a great deal.


    "So, who''s hungry?"


    Relma was sure people might have some commentary for that. But everyone was too busy trying to stand up.

 Chapter Five: Lord Evren

    It took a little while for everyone to regain their composure.


    When they managed it, Relma stood up unsteadily and looked to see that the others were safe. They were. Then she looked around. No mountains had been torn down, no steam indicated boiling oceans, and the sky was a normal color. Relma took these as signs that the world had not ended.


    Thank you, Elranor.


    There were a few immense footprints, however, and the sacrifices were gone.


    Had there been something Relma could have done?


    "So this Lord Evren, where is his lair?" asked Ajax, dusting himself off.


    "Well, old chap, if I remember it, it''ll be up on that cave just below the castle," said Wrynncurth. "Though the castle wasn''t there before." And he led on toward the castle in question.


    The castle proved a huge structure of tall spires with white stone, situated upon a hill. At the base of the hill was a cave from which smoke was flowing.


    "These lands are prosperous and fertile," said Estela. "I''ve never seen anything like it."


    "Well, of course," mused Brandus, walking with them. "The lifeforce of those who are devoured by the reds goes into the land and ensures it grows. Those who sacrifice their lives ensure those they leave behind are prosperous."


    "Something is wrong here," said Jomas.


    "What?" said Estela.


    "No, old people," said Jomas. "No one over forty.


    "Where-"


    "Eaten by the dragons, remember?" said Brandus. "I told you as much. Once you get to a certain age, you''re less useful, so you might as well be removed¡ªthat way, the next generation can take over.


    "It''s the same with anyone born malformed or stupid."


    "That''s..." Estela shifted. "That''s not at all like Escor."


    "Yes, you much prefer to kill eachother off instead," mused Ajax.


    "Battle is a noble profession," said Estela.


    "So is a willing sacrifice to ensure the prosperity of your realm and your place in the afterlife," noted Ajax. "It doesn''t leave nearly as many fields razed, I''ll bet."


    "Well, all this is true, but I''m more interested in Bryag," said Relma, remembering that dragon''s sheer scale. "Tell me, what does everyone think of Bryag?" S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "He is the most powerful of all the Red Dragons and guards all lands equally," said Brandus. "Even those that cannot make sacrifices to him. And it is fortunate that he does, for that sacrifice you saw is the first we''ve had in a decade."


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "Well, Queen Vanessa insisted we do as much," said Brandus. "The truth is, Evren has not provided sacrifices to Bryag in my life before now."


    "You mean to say that Bryag gets nothing from doing all this?" asked Relma.


    "Well, nothing from us," said Brandus. "Lord Evren prefers us to make sacrifices to him and Queen Vanessa instead. Sometimes villages will make sacrifices to Bryag. Of their own volition, of course, when things are really bad.


    "But many of the Lords don''t like them doing that."


    "I wonder why," mused Estela.


    "In any case, Bryag protects," said Brandus.


    Relma wondered how she could use this and what she had to do to avoid treading on local traditions. Obviously, abolishing any of them was beyond her power and a bad idea. Anyway, this adventure was just to give Relma a major accomplishment¡ªsomething that none of the Kings of Harlenor could compare to.


    So long as she accomplished that major, she didn''t care about the Dragon Empire. However, she would much rather leave the place prosperous and ruled well. Even so, she was not planning to slay any dragons.


    "So, do tell me, how many sacrifices does Evren usually command?" asked Relma.


    "Well, I''ve been doing this task my whole life, including my father before him," said Brandus. "It used to be that we''d only have to sacrifice two or three people a year; that was in my grandfather''s day. But, as things got worse, Evren commanded we sacrifice more, five or six a month, and it was when I came of age.


    "But as Durag''s armies became greater, the Lords began to call for more and more sacrifices. We needed more dragons, you see, and the undead wounded the land."


    "Right, the people sacrificed are reincarnated as Red Dragons, correct?" asked Estela.


    "Not all of them," said Brandus. "Most are reincarnated as a higher caste, those who dwell within the castles. They are the personal attendants and warriors of the Red Dragon. When they are sacrificed, they may be found worthy to ascend. If not, they may be reborn within the inner circles, or, if they are sent back, will be returned to the outside."


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    Relma had learned a certain amount of math in Gel Carn. And calculating things, she more or less concluded that it did not work. It couldn''t work if the kind of sacrifices they''d seen were commonplace; it couldn''t work. Castles only needed so many people living there. The dragons were likely even less numerous.


    It didn''t take long to realize that many people were not seeing any improvement in their next lives. But that didn''t seem a wise thing to say to a priest.


    "Can I ask something else?" asked Relma.


    "What is it?" asked Brandus.


    "Who are the Conquista of Anoa?" asked Relma.


    "Oh yes, them," said Brandus. "They are men who came from your land long ago, through the Pass of Dragon Bones. They came seeking horses for Anoa''s army and also to fight the High Elven remnants. We fought them for many years, but we''ve recently made common cause against the Sun Soul Empire and Durag.


    "They wield strange weapons that make huge amounts of noise and can pierce armor. However, they cannot compete with the power of dragons."


    Relma asked a lot more questions on their way to the cave. She managed to learn a great deal about things in the Dragon Empire. Much of it had already been told to them by Ajax and was only confirmed now. Other things directly contradicted his statement, while others provided a different context.


    Estela asked mostly about the armies.


    But, at last, they came to the cave and found it guarded by many armed men with pikes. Their armor was blood red, and masks covered their faces.


    "Are these them, Brandus?" asked the leader.


    "Yes, Bas," said Brandus. "They are the ones Queen Vanessa spoke of.


    Bas nodded. "Good, Lord Evren will see them now."


    And he led them down into the cave.


    Within, it was lit by a dull, red light that gleamed off of vast quantities of gold. And upon that, gold was lying the first dragon. He was far more impressive in this enclosed space, which was saying something. Yet Relma realized Bryag could probably hold Evren''s entire head in one claw.


    "So, these are those sent by Queen Vanessa," said Evren. "I must thank you for destroying so many undead; it will make things far easier in the future. Bryag won''t be necessary for some time yet."


    "Well, I jolly well imagine Bryag might be glad of that," said Wrynncurth ruefully. "What sort of arrangement did you chaps come to that makes it so he continues to help you? From what I heard, he isn''t achieving much."


    "Arrangement?" asked Evren. "Bryag is a fool; that is the only arrangement the others and I need."


    "I wonder if you''d say as much to his face, old chap," said Wrynncurth, and Relma suspected he was very angry indeed.


    "Of course not, he''s more than four times the next largest dragon, but I need not confront him," said Evren. "If he ever truly went after us, every other dragon would unite against him. We''ve prepared all sorts of precautions."


    "I wonder why you need to, seeing as you ought to see him as a Prince," noted Wrynncurth.


    "He had a formidable birthright once, even split with Vanessa," said Evren. "But that has long since all been spent. Now, he relies on us for whatever we give him."


    "And tell me, how was it spent?" asked Wrynncurth.


    "I believe he sought to imitate you, Wrynncurth," said Evren. "Loaning out parts of his hoard to help with building projects and development. He certainly made many loans to myself included."


    "And tell me, have you paid them back? You seem quite rich enough," said Wrynncurth.


    "Of course not," scoffed Evren. "I used it to build some roads and kept most of it for myself. There are records of the transaction, not that it matters."


    "I wonder what Queen Vanessa thinks of all this. Worth considering," said Wrynncurth.


    "Bryag is the only other possible ruler of the Dragon Empire," said Evren flatly. "If he''s kept penniless and productive, so much the better for her."


    "So you made a contract with Bryag, never intending to pay it back?" said Estela.


    "If he was stupid enough to give his wealth away, he deserves what he gets," said Evren simply.


    "You gave your word," said Estela.


    "Did I?" asked Evren. "What are words but ink splattered over parchment. What is that to I, or any creature with power? None will cease to do business with me for my cheating of Bryag, for all the world is complicit. He cannot regain his wealth, for he''d face us all. I would be only too glad to see some of my neighbors killed by him; I could take their hoards as well.


    "Nor can he scheme against me, for he is a dimwitted fool.


    "I need not justify my actions, for the strong do as they like, and the weak can only accept it. Bryag is weak and so deserves what has happened to him."


    "...You''re a cheat," said Jomas flatly.


    Relma wondered how far their chances of survival had dropped and what they had been, to begin with.


    Estela stared at Jomas in horror. Evren glared at him as Jomas stepped forward. "What?"


    "I said you''re a cheat. A swindler," said Jomas. "A conman. A bandit with red scales and teeth. A petty usurper laying claim to that which he has no right. You don''t deserve to be called a Lord; you don''t deserve anything.


    "You should be hung at the gallows like any other thief. You and the rest of your pack of outlaws."


    This made Evren somewhat angry.


    Relma could tell because he rose from his bed and roared. The sound echoed throughout the cave. Her ears rang with it, as Jomas stood in front of him, staring up.


    "You dare!" roared Evren, opening his mouth and giving a view of the flames he could belch forward. "...Were you not under the direct protection of Queen Vanessa, I would kill you where you stand."


    "If strength is all that matters, why are you angry?" asked Jomas.


    Dead silence followed as Evren closed his mouth. He looked at Jomas for a long moment, and then his eyes widened for a moment. Evren recoiled visibly, just slightly, then went back to his bed.


    Wryncurth made a concerned noise. "...Eloquently put old chap. Not wise and poorly timed, but eloquent."


    "Enough of this," said Evren. "You and your ilk cease to amuse me, Wrynncurth. I have arranged for a ship to take you right to the Conquista of Anoa. For all the good it may do you."


    "Lord Evren, may I ask a question?" asked Relma suddenly.


    Estela put her face in her hands. Evren, however, glanced at her. "What is it, child?"


    "What are your views on the Conquista of Anoa?" asked Relma.


    Evren scoffed. "They are dangerous but of little use to us. They worship as King called Anoa and proclaim his Heir shall return to them. When I was young, I was part of an effort to seize back the island, but nothing came of it.


    "Although my father did die, and I inherited a great deal of wealth from that. So, there was some silver lining.


    "Take them to their ship, Bas. I have wealth to polish."


    Well, they''d almost all died horribly. But you couldn''t call the mission a failure. Yet. As soon as they were out of fire breath range, Relma took Jomas and Estela to one side.


    "We need to talk," said Relma.


    "About what?" asked Jomas morosely.


    "We''re not here to slay dragons," said Relma. "We are not here to start a war. We don''t want to rewrite the map. All we want to do is learn and see if any opportunities are worth taking."


    "What about those people who were burned alive?" asked Estela.


    "This isn''t our country, Estela," said Relma. "How long are we going to be around? If we start a fight now, don''t we have an obligation to finish it?


    "No one is to play the hero without consulting the others."


    "I uh... rather agree with Relma in this matter," said Wrynncurth. "Very brave, but not the brightest move you ever made, Jomas old chap."


    "It had to be said," said Jomas.


    "Where is Ajax?" asked Estela suddenly.


    It turned out he''d been waiting from the cave''s mouth, where he could dodge the fire breath, which was probably the smartest move anyone had made today. Relma wished she''d thought of it.

 Chapter Six: Pirates on the Sea

    A few days later, Relma liked their journey far better.


    The seas beneath the vessel provided by Evren were serene and calm. They were reflecting the morning light. Against the reddish backdrop, it was like fire on the horizon. It was distantly burning on the mountain walls. The wind brought with it the scent of salt, and the air was cool beneath it. Relma had never seen the sea before, but Estela claimed it was far different in Escor. The waves crashed violently therey, and the water was cold, butit was wonderful hereul.


    "Sea of Horses is so calm," said Relma, breathing in the fresh hair.


    "Yes, well, the sea here is surrounded by mountains on every side," said Ajax, "so it''s technically inland. Vrengar raised them up long ago to seal things off, though there are a few Sornian ports to the north.


    "I have a map here if you want?"


    And he drew it out and passed it to Relma. She took it and looked over it. It was a nice map of the nation, though the Sun Soul Empire didn''t seem filled in. From the looks of things, there were several large islands off the coast of the Dragon Empire.


    It was in a similar position to Estal. You could raid just about anywhere from it.


    Judging from the location, the Dragon Empire had a huge advantage over Highwatch. Highwatch itself was in a mountainous peninsula leading into a hilly region. But the Conquista of Anoa could easily sail anywhere on the coast and raid. Or, if they wanted to raid the Sun Soul Empire, they could go downriver and raid along that. The river, Bryag''s River, led into the Southmost Mountains and the sea beyond.


    Of course, that left the question of where all the undead had come from. It seemed like the sort of thing someone would call upon as an escalation. It was a desperate act to keep a hostile power from taking everything over. Adrianeth had been called upon in Southern Gel Carn in a similar situation.


    The Dusk Lands were a living testament to that kind of mass destruction. Relma was determined that wouldn''t happen here. Not if she could stop it.


    "Why is it called the sea of horses anyway?" asked Relma.


    "Apparently," said Ajax. "The horses fled overseas to several islands. And the Gods let in the sea to block the pursuing Harlenorians."


    "Where did you get this?" asked Relma.


    "I stole it," said Ajax with a shrug.


    "Ajax!" said Relma.


    "What?" said Ajax. "We''re technically at war with these people, and they hunt wolves."


    "That doesn''t mean we should be stealing from them," said Relma.


    "Maybe not," said Ajax, "but it doesn''t mean we can''t."


    "But I-" Relma gave up. They were probably miles and miles away from wherever he got this. She looked over to where Estela and Jomas were standing some ways off. Those two had been getting a lot closer. "Estela, Jomas, how are you doing?"


    "I still have some aches from facing those we were grabbed by those undead," said Estela. "It still hurts."


    "I''m fine," said Jomas.


    Relma moved over to him and wondered if he was putting on a brave face, actually fine or unaware he was not fine. His expression didn''t change much, always somber and contemplative. "Jomas, can I ask you something. Why did you flare up against Evren like that? It could have gotten us killed."


    "He deserved to hear it," said Jomas. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes, but it could have killed us all and caused our quest to fail," said Relma.


    "I''m a knight," said Jomas flatly. "Knights speak the truth."


    "Yes, but they could choose not to speak the truth at the worst possible moment," said Relma.


    "He deserved to hear it," said Jomas with a shrug.


    "And did we deserve to be killed because of your recklessness?" asked Estela flatly. Then she stalked off.


    "I would have won," said Jomas.


    "He''d have melted you and your armor instantly," said Estela.


    "I''d have gotten him with my hammer," said Jomas.


    "At the expense of your life," said Relma.


    "Me living is a problem," said Jomas with a shrug.


    Relma was unsure how to react to that for a moment. She wondered why Jomas would say that but wasn''t sure what to say. "What do you mean?"


    "Estela doesn''t want to marry me," said Jomas. "If I die, she doesn''t have to."


    "Well, you can''t just let yourself get killed because of that!" said Relma.


    "I wasn''t," said Jomas flatly. "I was going to kill Evren. What he did was wrong."


    Why was Jomas so confident about all this? Did he think he could have killed Evren with the one stroke he''d be able to get off? "Look, just try to avoid starting any more fights with huge dragons in the future."


    And then Wrynncurth landed behind them, looking very pleased with himself. He stretched out his neck, and the sound of cracking could be heard as he stretched his jaw. "Ah, yes, I''m finally back to flying! My thanks to you, Captain."


    "You''ve recovered at last?" asked Relma, walking over to them. He''d been a bit weak for a while, even having a sick spell. He''d put a lot of himself into their escape.


    "More or less," said Wrynncurth. "I had to make a snack of a few undead, but once I''d devoured them, I had my power restored. Being in combat helped get the blood running again. Still, might want


    At that moment, the Captain of the ship came forward. The crew had been sure not to speak with them save when necessary. Only occasionally did they communicate, and it was only for important information.


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    "Lord Wrynncurth, we''ve spotted ships from the Conquista of Anoa ahead," said one. "They are flying the colors of piracy."


    Relma did look there and saw the vessels heading toward them. They were like the Harlenorian ships Relma had seen pictures of. Yet there was more rope and vast numbers of men ready for war. And they had a great black flag above them, a symbol of piracy she had read of: the sickle and skull.


    "Colors of piracy, old chap?" asked Wrynncurth, sounding cheerfully bemused.


    "Yes, it means they intend to seize our ship by force," said the Captain. "If we allow them on, they''ll take only part of the cargo. If we resist, they''ll kill us all.


    "We''ll have to slow down."


    "Are you not at peace with them?" asked Estela.


    "Not with these; they''re from the islands of Asacar," said the Captain. "They''ve never accepted the truce. They''re to the north and often raid shipping."


    "And you mean to let them land?" asked Estela. "Are you not going to fight?"


    "Of course not, I don''t intend to fight with these if I can avoid it," said Estela.


    "Coward," scoffed Estela. "Well, I intend to resist, and if you don''t fight with me, you''ll be killed like sheep."


    "What?" said the Captain. "But you can''t do that! Look at them! They are armed to the teeth, with armor and bows!"


    "Then we''ll die gloriously," said Estela, drawing her sword.


    "Estela, these are potential allies," said Relma. "What if killing them causes problems later?"


    "What, so we are to lie down and let them rob us?" asked Estela. "I think not; House Vortegex does not cower!"


    "They''ve raised the red flag now!" said a man in panic. "Now they''ll kill us all no matter what we do! Why did Evren withdraw our escort!"


    Probably because of Jomas, actually.


    The ships were closing fast now as men scurried this way and that. They were arming themselves or checking rigging.


    "Then I suggest you help us kill them first," said Estela, before going down. Coming back, she strung her bow and drew it back. As she did, an arrow lodged itself in the deck.


    Estela scowled, then pulled back an arrow and launched it. The arrow shot over the waves and caught a man in the eye. Then she drew back another one and shot another.


    The pirates responded, but virtually all of their arrows went wide. It was difficult to fire over this range, though not for Estela. One after another, the men fell to arrows, and not one missed.


    "We have no choice now," said Wrynncurth. "Well done, old girl."


    "Captain, tell your men to arm themselves and prepare to do battle!" snapped Esela, firing another shot. It caught a man through the throat. By now, the crew onboard the ship were in a panic. "Are you men or mice? Stand firm and do battle with them!"


    Now, the ships were closing toward them rapidly. One of them got ahead, and ropes were thrown over. Relma went to get Lightning Trail. Even as she did, the enemy leaped over. Jomas smote one with his hammer in midair. Two arrows lodged in his shield as Estela shot two dead with her bow. More men were coming over the deck, and one of the crew was disarmed and stabbed.


    As he fell, screaming, Relma leaped to his side and lay hands on him. His wounds healed and she gave him back his sword. The sound of screaming and fighting was all around her, and she saw bodies falling onto the deck. Estela was now wielding her sword and cutting a man''s throat. Relma saw another man fall back, stabbed in the shoulder.


    As he slid to the ground screaming, Relma rushed toward him. A smiling pirate swung a sword, but she rolled under it and got to the man. Laying on their hands, she healed him before catching a glint from her right eye. Ducking, she felt something pass over where her neck had been. Rolling to one side, she drew Lightning Trail and parried two blows.


    Then, the man she''d healed stabbed her attacker and went into the fray. Looking around, Relma saw others to heal and went to them. As she did, she saw they were winning. The enemy crew was dying faster, not expecting such resistance. And those that fell on their side did not rise again. Relma, one healer, was making a huge difference in things. Jomas was healing them now and then as well. Two-thirds of the enemy crew were now dead and many wounded, while Relma''s side was intact.


    A proper healer made a real difference in battle.


    But the other two enemy ships were nearing as a shadow passed over them all. The men halted their fighting and looked up, faces pale.


    And then Bryag dropped out of the skies. Descending, he breathed downward a wave of flame toward the ships. It caught the leading ship head-on, and it burst into flame. The ocean water boiled beneath the onslaught. Waves crashed against their ship, throwing the deck this way and that. As Bryag turned in midair, his claws cut through the ocean. The impact sent a vast wave toward them.


    Men leaped to the deck, clinging to whatever they could as the wave hit them head-on. Relma was clinging to the mast for a moment, and then it was over. Looking up, she saw a great, steaming inferno where a ship once had been. Briefly, Relma saw the silhouette of the vessel. Then the flames cleared, and there was nothing left.


    Nothing but smoke and steam, rising up to obscure everything in sight.


    It was like hell itself had opened a portal in the center. And beyond it, she could hear the other ships'' screams of alarm and horror. People were screaming Bryag''s name in horror.


    "Um, that was..." said Relma.


    "Explosive," said Wrynncurth. "Well done, Bryag, old chap!"


    "Hail, Bryag!" said a man.


    "Hail Bryag!" said the rest and the cry went up with cheers.


    "Enough," said the Captain, who had his head together. "If our enemies are alive, they''ve surely lost heart, and we''re obscured from view. Turn to starboard; we''ll get some distance while we can."


    Wrynncurth, however, looked somewhat put out. "He saw me twice now but didn''t even swoop down to say hello."


    "I''m sure Bryag didn''t recognize you," said Relma quickly. "I mean, it has been two hundred years. Maybe he thinks you''ve grown to a huge size or something."


    "A nice enough thought," said Wrynncurth. "But I''m going to go see what happened to the other two ships." And he soared into the air again.


    Relma looked to where Estela was looking at her quiver. Estela''s expression was both annoyed and disappointed. She seemed to be counting her arrows with one finger. "...Are you alright, Estela?"


    "Yes, fine," said Estela, sighing.


    "You really wanted to fight the pirates, didn''t you?" asked Relma.


    "Shut up," said Estela. "I lost five arrows. And if I''d waited five minutes, Bryag would have fried them. And no one is ever going to remember my archery.


    "I mean, did you see that? I caught him in the eye on my first shot! Garrick would never be able to do that, I''ll."


    "We can set up an archery contest after we finish stopping a full-scale war," said Relma.


    "Don''t patronize me, Relma," said Estela. "You are my squire."


    "I was being serious," said Relma. "What''s wrong with an archery contest."


    They saw no more of the pirates. Wrynncurth came back later and reported that the other two vessels had survived. However, they had apparently decided not to fight Bryag and turned to run away, which was probably the only intelligent move, given the circumstances.


    Even so, Wrynncurth was out of sorts for days and days after it happened. Relma often caught him pacing restlessly or scouring the skies. Sometimes he''d disappear for an entire day and fly inward, only to come back.


    Relma wondered if he was looking for Bryag. Privately, she began to doubt that Bryag had not seen him. After all, he''d seen them twice and seemed to have taken a personal step.


    "Wrynncurth, is everything alright?" Relma finally asked. Why hadn''t he helped? Did he consider himself neutral in all this?


    "Bryag and I always used to be close," said Wrynncurth. Closer than Vanessa and me, even. He used to idolize me when he was a hatchling.


    "I hope he doesn''t resent me for what happened. I really will have to do something about this whole thing later. Still, for now-"


    "Land ahoy! The island of Anoa''s Command lies before us!" cried a man.


    "At last," said Estela. "We can get this over with."


    Well, it had been an eventful voyage. But overall, it was very nice.


    Relma decided she liked sea travel.


    So she set to work healing the injured and saved many lives.


    Unfortunately, the Captain ordered all the prisoners executed so they would not seek revenge.

 Chapter Seven: Vacasia

    Before them lay the port of Vacasia upon the island of Anoa''s Command. It was, according to their guides, one of the richest and commonly frequented ports. You could see almost a dozen vessels within the piers at first glance. But there were also a great many smaller fishing ships on closer inspection. There were people of several races fishing by the waterside, or selling goods at the edge.


    Estela looked with interest as they neared the pier. The buildings here were very well built indeed, with reddish roofs. A wall protected the harbor, and men stood by with many arrows as they walked beneath the towers'' gaze. Estela saw a number of great, iron bell-like things on those towers, pointed out to seat. Men stood by them, and she realized they were canon.


    Estela had heard of the use of canon at sea in recent battles in the Sea of Power. But how had they gotten to this isolated and forsaken place? It was a question she''d have to solve later. For not, she turned her attention to the ships in the port.


    There were dozens of them, and the port wasn''t even full. Obviously, this was a place used to entertaining fleets.


    "These ships are very different from the kind we have in Escor; they''re lower on the water," mused Estela. Her gaze was focused largely on fortifications and such.


    "Well, of course, they are," said Wrynncurth. "The seas here are far calmer with the mountains surrounding them. I''m surprised you only just noticed them."


    "I''d assumed it was a cultural thing, but these men are Harlenorian," said Estela. Though their skin was tanner and hair darker than any Harlenorian she''d met. Had they interbred with the natives?


    "You may regard them as such, old girl," said Wrynncurth. "But I should be hesitant to say a much. Relma, you''ll need to translate for us."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "Vanessa gave us the power to speak with any of her subjects," said Wrynncurth. "However, the Conquista speaks a variant of Harlenorian. So you''ll likely have a bit of trouble talking with them. Fortunately, you, Relma, have divine power and may speak to anyone."


    "Can''t you?" asked Relma.


    "Oh yes, but it''s rather a bit beneath me to act as a translator," said Wrynncurth, taking a draft of his pipe.


    Estela looked back to the white buildings, some with domes. There was also a building toward the center of the town whose roof was gilded. She wondered if it was a temple and how they were that prosperous. Beyond, on the shores, Estela could see many fields being worked by tan-skinned people.


    Still, there was a clear difference in build between those working and those who were farming. Such differences weren''t uncommon in Harlenor. But Estela suspected that they were a different race. Perhaps it was a slave society like those in the Islands of Power?


    "These buildings are truly beautiful; I''ve never seen anything like them," said Relma. Estela felt a sense of resentment at that particular statement. While Escor was more practical erected, due to all the wars, simplicity was better anyway. And if you were into something more ornate, Gel Carn was far preferable.


    Estela remembered the palace of Arsheen, with all it''s heathen pictures and statues. Why Vanion Gabriel had not had them destroyed was beyond her. Calishan relics weren''t worth preserving anyway. But then, House Gabriel had a fascination with darkness, didn''t they? By the nature of his armor, William Gabriel had shown it, forged to appears as a skeletal figure with glowing green eyes.


    The question was not relevant at the moment.


    "Yes, yes, they are," mused Wrynncurth. "They weren''t nearly so pretty when I came here last. Back then, they''d been in a non-stop war with everyone else. Everything was made for practicality and little else.


    "The Conquista was fighting with some native rebellions, I gather. A large part of the population was enslaved in the old days, you see. Prisoners of war. A very bloody affair, unpleasant for all involved. It looks like they somewhat resolved it, though."


    "What do you think changed?" asked Estela, curious as to this place now.


    "Well, if I were to make a guess, I''d say it would be their alliance with Vanessa," said Wrynncurth, the ship halting now. "Now that I think of it, I did recommend befriending some of the other powers. I suppose she took my advice."


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    "Look, over there!" said Relma.


    Estela did look and saw something remarkable. A man, a full-grown human, was riding through the streets upon a huge animal, like how halflings did wolves. Yet this creature was no wolf, but a thing with hooves and a long face. It had brown fur and a mane running along the top of its head.


    "What is that?" asked Relma. "Some sort of giant goat?"


    "No, a goat doesn''t have so long a head and cannot move nearly so fast," mused Estela.


    "Then what is it?" asked Relma.


    "Oh yes, those are horses," said Wrynncurth.


    "Horses?" asked Estela, remembering the old legends of elven warriors. They''d ridden into battle on horseback, striking with lightning speed. Which was all they were, legends? "Impossible, King Anoa, the Bright wiped them out."


    "Evidently not," said Ajax, sniffing the air. "They seem to be riding them even now.


    "My kin tell me some who escaped to these lands and regained a sustainable population. They fled here, to this place, and Alchara brought in the sea to defend them. It seems the Conquista has tamed them.


    "No doubt that''s why the Conquista did as well as they did against the dragons. They could outrun their enemies."


    "Where have you been?" asked Estela.


    "Sleeping late," said Ajax, adjusting the sword at his side. He''d been a lot more confident with that sword lately.


    Estela shrugged. "Relma, if a translation is necessary, you will repeat what I say."


    "I understand," said Relma.


    Then Estela looked to Jomas. "Jomas, say nothing and no provoking them this time; we need these people."


    The people Estela spoke of were waiting at the pier.


    They were a group of ten men with pikes and steel armor. Their helmets had fins upon them with a metal mask. At their head was a portly, tan-skinned man clad in crimson. Wrynncurth eyed them as the gangplank was thrown down.


    "We appear to have an audience, chaps," said Wrynncurth.


    Estela motioned forward to Relma, who moved down and spoke to them. Estela wondered what it was like, speaking a language you''d never trained in. The man replied, and Relma looked back.


    "Who is this? What is he saying?" asked Estela.


    "He is Sadago, a Customs Officer of their King, Gormath," said Relma. "It''s a very important position, I think. They''re asking us who we are and where we came from?"


    "Tell him who we are and that we have come from Harlenor, the nation of Anoa. Tell them that we are on a quest to find the Dragonfire shield," said Estela.


    Relma did as much. The man paused and then spoke in turn.


    "Well?" asked Relma.


    "Sadago says that he is not sure he believes you," said Relma. "No one has come from Harlenor in many years, not since Prince Otto''s invasion. He wants to know how you got past Queen Vanessa''s lands."


    "Tell him the truth," said Estela, seeing no purpose in lying.


    Relma nodded and told the story. It took a while, even in brief, and Relma seemed to enjoy telling it. Sadago listened, hand fingering his black beard. At last, he spoke, and Relma relayed as much. "Sadago says that he does not believe he has the authority to judge on this, and so he wants us to return to our ship. He will gain his King''s preference."


    "Tell him that we are thankful for his consideration," said Estela, quickly bowing.


    Relma nodded and did so.


    Then, Sadago left, leaving his men to eye them distrustfully. Relma looked to Estela. "What now?"


    "Now we wait," said Estela. "Though I should be able to speak this. They are Harlenorian."


    "Languages change a great dead, old girl," said Wrynncurth. "They''ve been here for many generations.


    "You may share a common ancestry, but that may be all you share."


    Estela nodded and came to the obvious conclusion. "This is never going to work.


    "They aren''t going to hand the Dragonfire Shield over to us just because we ask for it."


    "Maybe they''ll tell us to perform some sort of quest," mused Relma.


    "Probably one that is impossible, if we''re lucky," said Estela, considering the situation. "They''ll probably just give us a flat refusal. It''s what I would do." S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, not everyone is like us, and they are waiting for the Heir of Anoa," said Relma. "Maybe they''ll give us a chance." Ever the unreasonable optimist. Then again, Relma''s optimism had a strange way of working. Perhaps it was her status as the Heir of Kings.


    Then a horrible thought occurred to Estela. What if Relma had told them she was the Heir of Kings. That could get them all killed or imprisoned or held to impossible expectations at best. "Relma, you didn''t tell them who you were, did you?"


    "You told me to tell them who we are," said Relma.


    "Obviously, not that!" said Estela. What had she been thinking?! This could wreck everything!


    Relma looked a bit irritated at that. "Oh, I''m sorry. I thought when you wanted me to tell them who we were, you wanted me to tell them who we were. Would you have preferred I not tell them who we are?"


    "I would have preferred you to introduce yourself as my squire and nothing else," said Estela. Why was it that Relma had to steal the attention wherever she went? Everything always ended up revolving around her.


    Then again, it had seen Escor growing stronger than ever. And destiny, luck, or skill, it seemed to be working.


    "I did," said Relma. "I told them I was Relma Artorious, a descendant of Anoa and your squire."


    "Well, why would you tell them you were the Heir of Kings at all?" asked Estela. Didn''t Relma have any sense at all? Estela knew she wasn''t an egotist or the sort to steal credit.


    "It gives us something to bargain with," said Relma. "And I wasn''t thinking about it, to be honest." She paused and looked around. "If you''d told me to withhold the information, I would have.


    "...Where''s Ajax?"


    "Hmm, he was..." Estela looked around and could not see any sign of the wolf boy. "Wrynncurth, do you know where he is?"


    Wrynncurth shook his head.


    A search then ensued that turned up nothing. Not on the deck, now below deck, and not even in the water. Ajax was gone, alongside his pack and poisons and everything else he''d gone. Even his sword, though he never used it. Estela guessed that he''d leaped off the ship when no one was looking.


    How had no one heard the splash? He might have lowered himself down very quietly. Ajax seemed to have a knack for appearing and disappearing without notice. Usually at the worst possible time.


    Although his kidnapping of Relma years ago might have been useful in the long run. And Estela did have some trust for his loyalty. Not the same for his judgment, however.


    As if they didn''t have problems enough.


    "Where did he go?" asked Relma.


    "I expect he leaped off the ship and swam to shore," said Estela. "We''ll hear from him once he speaks with the local wolves."


    "Telix has colonized a lot of areas here, hasn''t he?" asked Relma.


    "Why do you think we throw his broods out of the Fairy Forest?" asked Estela. "Relma, did you introduce him?"


    "I um, I forgot with him not here," said Relma quickly.


    This could cause some serious problems. Still, perhaps Estela could improvise a solution. Wrynncurth, of course, seemed unaffected. Estela was glad of the fact. When he had a reaction, it meant things were very, very serious.


    "Sadago is coming back," said Wrynncurth, taking his pipe out. "He seems to have brought a jolly large amount of armed guards, hasn''t he?"


    Estela sighed as they went back to meet Sadago, who bowed respectfully. Or at least Estela hoped it was respectfully; they might have different customs here. Everyone in this land was insane, after all. "Alright, let''s see what new disaster we''ve gotten into this time."


    Sadago spoke, and Relma translated. "Sadago says we are to be taken to King Gormath, whether we want it or not. He asks us not to resist."


    Estela sighed. "Wonderful."


    This adventure got worse by the day.

 Chapter Eight: King Gormath

    They were led inland along busy streets that were paved with tan stones and well cleaned. The people of this place seemed well-fed, a marked contrast to some of those in the Dragon Empire. There were several working water pump like the one Estela had seen in Antion and the bars had priests preaching to those who drank. People looked up at them, and Wrynncurth, in particular, with interest but not hatred. Wrynncurth seemed to take the attention with good cheer. Whether or not he felt cheerful was another question.


    Though he did wave, so perhaps it was genuine. He seemed interested in the streets and vendors around them. The guards flanking them prevented any attempt to talk to others, unfortunately. So Estela remained troubled. She''d have liked to learn a bit more about this place.


    Actually, Estela had noticed something. The weapons some of the guards were using weren''t pikes. They looked almost like clubs, except with a blade on end. They had them rested against a shoulder.


    "Who is this King Gormath we are going to see anyway, Relma?" asked Estela. She''d like to know something about him before she was in his house.


    Relma quickly asked Sadago as much and got a response. She translated it, and the two seemed to get on well. Relma looked back. "Well, I talked with them. It seems that King Gormath is the youngest King they''ve ever had. He came to power when the Sun Soul Empire slew his father in battle and took his soul for their pyres. Vowing vengeance, King Gormath journeyed to the lair of Queen Vanessa.


    "There he brooked an alliance from which many great battles were won. The Sun Soul Empire was driven into the southeastern jungles. However, in recent years they have made an alliance with Durag, the Dark Lord."


    "Who is this, Durag?" asked Estela. "Have you met him, Wrynncurth?"


    "Afraid not, old girl," said Wrynncurth. "Last time I was here, he was a chieftain of the dwarves of Highwatch. Jolly powerful one too.


    "I gather he must have gone into the immortality business while I was gone. Jolly unfortunate that I didn''t meet him; I might have an idea of what he wants."


    "Right," said Relma.


    "What about the horses?" asked Estela. "I was under the impression the horses had vowed never to serve humanity? How did he gain their loyalty?"


    Relma asked and got her answer. It took some time for Sadago to explain it and looked back. "He says that the horses were often hunted by red dragons. Apparently, they were considered a delicacy. By aligning themselves with the Conquista, they were able to gain protection.


    "Together, they were able to cooperate in fighting against the dragons."


    "Interesting enough," said Wrynncurth. "Though I heard it once or twice before. Ask him about Durag, would you Relma?"


    Relma did ask as much, again, and Sadago responded in a rather lengthy explanation. By the time he finished, they had gone beyond the town and were scaling a hill. At the top stood a majestic, tan-walled fortress with many spires. Around it were bountiful fields as well.


    "Durag apparently rose to power a few hundred years ago," said Relma. "He was once a general of the Dwarves of Highwatch. He won many great victories against the Sun Soul Empire and saved many people from their pyres.


    "He also was a great loremaster. Durag learned to created magnificent weapons such as muskets and cannons. The first of which was sold to the Conquista."


    "Muskets?" asked Estela.


    "The weapons these men hold," said Relma. "They are like crossbows but fire a sphere of iron at short range." Estela looked to what she had taken as a melee weapon, some combination of spear and club. It had a steel barrel as well. Sadago said something, and the group halted.


    Relma nudged Estela. "He''s going to demonstrate."


    Sadago drew up one of the rifles and pointed it upwards. Then he pulled a trigger on end, and there was a noise like thunder. Smoke poured out around them, and Estela frowned. "All that smoke for one shot?"


    "I remember something about steam cannons in the Sea of Power," said Ajax, coughing. "But nothing like this. How did he make it fire on such a small scale?"


    Sadago spoke quickly, and Relma listened. His voice was proud as he said whatever it was he was saying. Estela thought she could pick out a number of common aspects of the language.


    "Gunpowder," said Relma. "He says that Durag came across the recipe while seeking the formula to eternal life. And Vrengar forged the guns that use it. The weapons are inaccurate and completely ineffective against magic. However, they are useful for breaking poorly organized troops. And their smoke provides cover.


    "They won many great victories against the Sun Soul Empire after it was devised."


    "Then why don''t the Dragons use it?" asked Estela.


    Relma paused to ask. "Apparently, the Dragons are less than concerned with advancing their ground forces. Their militaries are designed to ensure order. Other than that, the dragons generally just use them to keep enemies in place long enough to flame them."


    Sadago said something more then, and Relma translated. "King Gormath is working to create new formations that allow the guns to be more effective. He''s already fought a pitched battle with the islands to the north of here and won. And also conducted several raids on Highwatch fortifications."


    "What happened to Durag?" asked Estela, who doubted it would ever catch on.


    "Eventually, his experiments went too far, and he was exiled. He fled with his clan into distant lands and performed unholy ceremonies," said Relma. "In so doing, he attained immortality at the cost of his soul.


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    "Now his undead roam far and wide across the mainland, seizing men to perform his experiments on. And none who have yet walked into his fortress of Khas Khan have returned alive."


    "Well, that seems a bit of a jump," said Wrynncurth. "How does one go from creating experiments for your warriors to undead Dark Lord?"


    "Over the course of a few hundred years," said Relma, after asking Sadago as much.


    "Oh right, good point," said Wrynncurth.


    "So what about this Sun Soul Empire?" asked Estela. "What is this about their pyres?"


    "They are an Empire that believes in blood sacrifice," said Relma. "They are constantly conducting raids to seize old men and women. They take experienced warriors captive and love to seize dragons.


    "All, once captured, are burned alive, their souls disappearing with their bodies."


    "Well, that''s wrong," said Estela simply. "You can''t destroy a soul."


    "Should I say that?" asked Relma doubtfully.


    "Yes," said Relma.


    There was a pause.


    "Sadago understands not believing him," said Relma. "He says that they do not know what happens to the souls of those who are seized. However, they do not make it to the afterlife of Vrengar or reincarnate. We do know that the Sun Soul Empire prefers to seize people who have lived longer. In a best-case scenario, they have lived several lives."


    "Ask him-" began Estela.


    And then she realized they had come to the gates. They were huge with the same tan stone, and the towers had domed roofs. Men were patrolling the walks with guns and armor and there was a merchant speaking with the gate guard. He was well-dressed, better than most in Escor and Estela felt a sense of jealousy.


    Why should these people be so well off and Escor behind?


    The postern gate was opened for them at once. Entering within, Estela looked around and found the place very well organized. There appeared to be a place where a lot of horses were stored, and in a field, a man was riding on in circles. He was thin and had dark hair, tan skin, and red eyes and wore black cloth with a silver chain around his neck.


    As Sadago came forward, the man dismounted from the horse and set a hand to his sword. He spoke to Sadago, then to Relma, who looked back. "King Gormath welcomes us to the castle of Medrigo, the center of the Conquista of Anoa. If I am the Heir of Kings, and the one who is chosen by prophecy, he will gladly hand over the Dragonscale Shield. But he doubts that we are who we say we are.


    "I don''t think he believes we are who we say they are."


    Once again, Relma was the chief guest. Estela was getting well and truly sick of this. "Tell him that you are the Heir of Kings, just as I am the Princess of Escor. If he will set a task for us, I shall complete it, or die trying." sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Relma spoke, and Gormath laughed before replying. Estela wondered if she had been insulted, and if so, how best to avenge herself. "Gormath thinks you are too fast to pledge eternal service to a quest and reckless."


    "Does he have a quest for us to complete, or not?" asked Estela.


    Relma spoke, and Estela hoped she said that politely. At last, Relma looked back. "Gormath will give us what we want.


    "To prove ourselves worthy of the Dragonscale Shield, we must make our way back across the sea, to the Dark Land. There we must destroy Durag, the Dark Lord."


    "Fine, when do we start?" asked Estela.


    She waited for a moment.


    Then Relma spoke. "After we help him find Ajax, who escaped into the forests. Some of the shepherds saw him, or at least someone who looked like him. He jumped the ship and explored inland."


    "We''ll do that too," said Estela with a sigh.


    Gormath eyed Estela with a smile, and feeling his gaze, Estela resisted the urge to look away. He was very handsome and had a scar on his neck. He spoke, and Relma listened.


    "King Gormath wishes to show us something," said Relma.


    "Lead on," said Estela.


    This was going to be trouble, wasn''t it?


    As it turned out, trouble led into the place with all the horses. They were huge up close, most of them having a mix of colors on their pelts, brown and white. But one or two were pure white or black, or brown. Gormath petted one affectionately, whispering into its ears as he did so. He obviously liked the creatures, but Estela did not. They could be considered beautiful, but what sort of man did not fight on foot?


    To use horses was the way of elves and degenerates who lacked the nerve to fight with their men?


    "The royal stables of House Gormath," said Relma. "King Gormath wishes to offer us the use of the horses here."


    "Horses? I don''t ride into battle," said Estela quickly. "I fight on foot like a knight. Respectfully decline his generous offer." Best not to antagonize Gormath.


    Relma did as much, and Gormath looked up in surprise. "Gormath is surprised that we don''t want it. After all, horses were the entire reason the Conquista was formed."


    What?


    "Ask him for context on that," said Estela.


    Relma spoke to Gormath, who responded in kind. "When Anoa the Bright rose in power, the horse clans fled south from him. Gormath''s ancestor, Gorman, led an army on behalf of Anoa to retrieve them. Sir Orson gifted him with the Dragonfire Shield, and together they won many victories.


    "Over time, they were cut off and settled. But hey still hold to their oath and mean to one day return with horses to Harlenor."


    "Why haven''t they tried before now?" asked Estela.


    When Relma asked the question of Gormath, the King paused and looked distant. He spoke at last while running his hands through a white horse. Relma looked back. "The spell that scattered the languages of all people prevented us. And they were enemies with the Dragon Empire for an age. And they could not abandon their settlements to find them.


    "In fact, that was why Gormath chose to make an alliance with the Dragon Empire. He''d hoped to eventually get the word through."


    Estela shifted nervously, wondering how best to handle this. "I would prefer to find Ajax on foot, to be honest. My people have fought as such their entire existence, and I''m not sure I''d do better on horseback."


    Relma spoke to Gormath, who nodded. "King Gormath understands.


    "Still, he''s uncertain of your decision to head out so quickly. You might stay the night.


    "There are wild horses in the island''s inner part, who might not like your presence."


    "They''d like Ajax''s presence even less," said Estela.


    Gormath frowned after Relma spoke. "King Gormath wants to know what your associate is doing here?"


    "Probably contacting all the wolves on the island," said Estela. "He prefers to talk to them."


    "He''s not fond of wolves," said Relma, translating Gormath. "They often prey on livestock and even people during bad winters."


    "Tell him that Ajax is a rational actor, just reckless," said Estela.


    Gormath nodded and spoke after a moment. "King Gormath wants us to be careful. The Panther woman like within the jungles inland. They often prey on those who wander too far in."


    Estela nodded and smiled. "We''ll be careful."


    One quest after another. At least she had an excuse to see the rest of the island now. Estela was becoming more interested in this place.

 Chapter Nine: Nyx

    Relma had to admit that she enjoyed her time in King Gormath''s castle, but it was brief. The halls within it were kept warm by many animal skins, and there was proof of many hunts. The food was excellent, and King Gormath proved a hospitable host indeed.


    During this time, she learned a bit about the history of the Conquista. Apparently, the Conquista peasants originated from the Sun Soul Empire. Many of them had ancestors in the conquered peoples of the Conquista. By now, the intermarriage between the various races had created something new.


    King Gormath himself spent most of his time working. Most of his days were spent in an office, reading, affixing his seal to measures, and other things. And his servants seemed to like him a great deal.


    It probably helped that she could speak the language, thanks to Elranor. She did her best to give Estela a sense of it. However, that proved problematic since Relma did not know how to speak to her. Her voice, as a servant of Elranor, was naturally translated.


    Thus, Relma ended up doing virtually all of the communication¡ªat least until Wrynncurth began to pick bits and pieces of it up; he did so quickly, for apparently, he''d been down this way before. So much of what he was learning, he was actually remembering.


    By the time Relma and Estela departed to find Ajax. Wrynncurth had learned or perhaps remembered enough to remain behind and study. Jomas stayed with him, though Relma wasn''t sure why.


    Estela and Relma stood by the castle gates, about to leave. King Gormath, however, came out to meet her. "Are you truly in earnest, going into the jungle alone? I could provide you with a guide."


    "Estela, King Gormath is asking us if we intend to enter the jungle," said Relma. "He''s offering us a guide and doesn''t seem to think this is a good idea."


    "Tell him that we appreciate his concern," said Estela. "However, I wish to find my companion, and I can track him well enough."


    Relma translated.


    "Very well," said Gormath, nodded in concern. "But you should beware the Queen of the Jaguar, Nyx. She is a ravenous beast that often feasts on the flesh of those who invade her territory. Your friend may already be dead.


    "Few have looked on her and lived. I am one of those few."


    Relma looked at Estela and wondered why she was so reckless about this. "Estela, King Gormath thinks this is a bad idea. There is a Queen of Jaguars called Nyx, who eats humans who invade her domain. He says that Ajax may already be dead.


    "He knows because he is one of the few people to look on her and live."


    Estela kept a polite face on. "Tell King Gormath that we shall be cautious."


    "Not cautious enough not to go, however," mused Gormath. "But do as you wish."


    "He notes that you are not cautious enough not to go but says you may do as you wish," said Relma as Gormath walked away. Relma did not enjoy repeating people repeatedly, but it was her job.


    The next morning, Estela led them into the lands, seeking Ajax''s trail. She found it quickly, taking several paths through the farmlands. Ajax had been sighted near a farm, looking at the sheep. Pigs seemed to be a common choice for livestock among the people here, very common. The people did not seem malnourished or badly off, and Relma inquired about taxes. Gormath was apparently considered very lenient. Soon, they went beyond the farms and into the woods that were unlike any Relma had seen. They were a place with many ferns and a moist, humid air so that sweat dripped down their brows.


    Often, Estela would have to hack branches away with a heavy blade borrowed for this purpose. Huge spiders dwelled in these places. Some had cocoons that contained what might have been rodents. Relma also saw several serpents around the trees. She wondered if Rioletta or House Gabriel had been here before.


    Probably not, not House Gabriel anyway. Rioletta, being the Goddess of Fate, might have holdings.


    Estela halted and kneeled by the tracks, pushing aside a fern as she did so. "...He came this way; come on."


    "Are you sure?" asked Relma. "It wasn''t another wolf or something?"


    "Yes, Ajax''s footprints are unique, and they aren''t nearly as soft as most wolves," said Estela.


    "Do you think we should speak with the spirits of this place?" asked Relma, looking around. A spider, the size of her hand, was crawling above them on its web. It stretched from the branch of a tree all the way to the trunk.


    "We could," admitted Estela ruefully. "But I''m not sure they''ll be as cooperative in this region. Anoa never came here, so they probably don''t obey him."


    "Let me try speaking with them," said Relma.


    "Be my guest," said Estela. "I wanted a rest anyway."


    Relma sat down, remembering some meditations Aunt Pan had taught her. Putting Lightning Trail across her knees, she closed her eyes. Focusing, Relma sent out her will, wondering if fairies were within this place. As she did so, Relma felt the spirits around her, yet they recoiled as she approached.


    They remained... hesitant, out of sight, but only just.


    Relma opened her eyes and stood. "...No, they''re not listening. I don''t think they know what to make of us just yet."


    "Well, let''s not keep them in suspense," said Estela with a shrug. "We''ll follow these tracks as far as we can."


    "Where''s Ajax heading, do you think?" asked Relma as they walked.


    "Up toward that mountain," said Estela, motioning. "Though I don''t see what he hoped to gain by this.


    "I wish Wrynncurth could have come with us."


    "He wanted to stay behind and learn the language, Estela," said Relma. "And that will help us."


    "I doubt that very much, though at least Jomas is with him," said Estela. "I''ve had enough of that simpleton already."


    "Why do you still hate Jomas?" asked Relma. "He''s already been of great help to us."


    "I don''t hate him," admitted Estela with a shrug. "I just don''t want to marry him."


    "Well then, why are you talking behind his back when he''s not here?" asked Relma. "Can''t you just tell your father you won''t do it?"


    "I can''t do that, Relma!" said Estela.


    Relma looked at her. "Why not?"


    "Because it''s important," said Estela, hacking through several vines. "House Vortegex''s whole plan is based around this marriage. If I just flat-out refuse it, I could be disinherited. At the very least, the country will be less secure. The only way out is if Jomas dies on this mission."


    "Would you be willing to let him die if he was in front of you?" asked Relma.


    "Of course not!" said Estela defensively. "I''m a Knight; honor demands I protect my comrades in arms and the weak. I''m just... well, I''m hoping I''m unable to, despite my best efforts."


    "Do you like Jomas?" asked Relma.


    "As I said," said Estela. "I don''t hate him.


    "He''s good in a fight, like an ogre in human form. But I don''t want to marry him, and I don''t want to hear any speeches from you about how I should accept it. We''re only here because you decided to go after Lightning Trail¡ªAgainst everyone else''s objections, I might add."


    "Right, yeah, I''m not really in a position to say anything," said Relma. Though privately, she remembered Estela trying to draw Lightning Trail herself. "What is leading Ajax out here?"


    "I don''t know, but the jungle is getting worse," mused Estela.


    "Should we follow?" asked Relma.


    "Do we have any other choice?" asked Estela. "We could wait for a bit and hope he links up with us. But I don''t like waiting here more than is necessary; Father may launch an invasion. If that happens, all our plans would be in ruins.


    "Come on."


    And then Relma saw Estela heading straight toward a huge web with an equally huge spider as big as her head. Quickly, she grabbed Estela''s shoulder. "Estela, look out!"


    Estela halted. "What is..."


    Then she saw the thing, inches from her face, and scrambled back. Raising her sword, it flashed in the light. Quickly, Relma caught her by the hand. "No, don''t cut the web, Estela! The spider is just hunting to live!"


    Estela shifted and finally nodded. "...Fine, you''re right."


    And they moved around it.


    Even as they did, however, there were several rustling in the leaves. Relma halted, and Estela readied her sword. Drawing Lightning Trail, Relma was afraid of having to use it. She didn''t want to kill anything.


    "Meow, these are some pretty ones, aren''t they?" asked a voice in the trees. "Yes... pretty indeed.


    "Should we keep them? Or devour them right away?"


    Many huge cats then emerged from the trees, spotted and snarling. Above them, in the branches, Relma saw a woman. She had brown skin and was majestically beautiful, clad only in ragged clothes. Yet she seemed a mix of human and cat, with paws instead of hands and feet. On her head were ears like those of a cat, with speckled yellow fur. Her yellow eyes looked with interest. She also had whiskers and a very... well... exaggerated form, as demons supposedly tended to have.


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    "Neither," said Estela. "Everyone will die here if you do not step away."


    "A bold one, definitely one I want to keep... especially with that fair skin, very nice," said the woman, licking her lips. "Surrender now, and we''ll be gentle."


    "Death first," replied Estela, flourishing her blade.


    She looked very fine doing it, but Relma hoped for neither death nor capture.


    At that moment, Ajax appeared from the forests. "Nyx!"


    Nyx looked up in irritation. "What is it, Ajax? I''m making a meal."


    "These are my friends, the ones I told you about," said Ajax flatly. "I''d appreciate it if you didn''t devour them. Some of them anyway; where are Jomas and Wrynncurth?"


    "We''re here alone," said Estela.


    "Oh, how disappointing; I was hoping to devour these," said Nyx. "I so wanted to hang some of their skins on my wall."


    "Maybe next time," said Ajax flatly.


    Relma shuddered and reminded herself that King Gormath had had jaguar pelts on his wall. So, it was sort of the same. Well, not really, to Relma, at least.


    "Who are you?" asked Estela.


    "I am Nyx, Queen of the Jaguars, and this is my body within the realm of the Conquista," said Nyx. Then she dropped down so she and Estela were inches apart.


    "Your body in these parts?" asked Estela, refusing to back away.


    "Yes, I occupy many different bodies. Each one presides over the cats of that region," said Nyx, scratching a jaguar behind the ears. "Though Jaguars are my absolute favorite, yes, yes, you are..."


    "Ajax, explain yourself!" snapped Estela, hiding her move away from Nyx by turning to him. "What are you doing here with this woman? Why''d you run off? We''ve had to delay our plans because of this!"


    "We''ve been having something of a family meeting, to be honest," said Nyx. "We are long lost cousins, after all."


    "Cousins?" asked Estela.


    "Distantly, of course," said Ajax. "Both of us trace our lineage back to Baltoth. I learned of her existence from my wolves and decided to track her down. They''ve been fighting over territory with her, and I had to iron some things out."


    "Why didn''t you tell us about this?" asked Relma.


    "Because there is a universe outside of you, Relma," said Ajax. "I wasn''t even planning to meet up with you until I ran into all those undead.


    "I was trying to set up a meeting between her and Father, but then you ran into that mess. With the rate at which you people get into trouble, I needed to reschedule, so I brought you here. Then I met Nyx here instead."


    "What have you been negotiating about, exactly?" asked Estela.


    "If you have to know, I''ve been trying to put together a formal alliance between the cats and the wolves," said Ajax. "I''ve heard about Durag''s undead constantly increasing rate. The dragons aren''t harming anyone. Whenever they swell too large, the dragons swoop in. They incinerate whole swathes of forest and call it a day.


    "That only kills some of the dead, and it makes it more difficult to eat for everyone.


    "We''re trying to plan some sort of solution, and we''re starting with a ceasefire."


    "I''m certain we can discuss all this over dinner," said Nyx, licking her lips. As if on a whim, she brushed a paw over Estela''s shoulder. "Will you join us? It''ll be nice to have you there, either dead or alive."


    Estela looked to Relma, then back. "We will."


    What was Estela doing? This woman was a bloodthirsty monster.


    She and Tanith would probably have gotten along just fine.


    Even so, Estela was in charge. Relma wasn''t supposed to question her decisions unless asked.


    So Nyx led Estela, Relma, and Ajax through the jungles. The Jaguars, meanwhile, flanked them tightly, snarling as they did. The heat got worse as the day wore on, and there were several sprinkles of rain. Nyx often spoke of hunts with Ajax, while Estela and Relma said nothing.


    At last, they came to the den of Pentera.


    Skulls surrounded her home¡ªhundreds of them laid out in rows in a full circle. There was only one narrow lane where the bleached white bones were not. And this was where they walked toward a large cave, leading into the earth.


    "This place is..." choked Estela. "Where did all these skulls come from?"


    "Oh, do you like them?" asked Nyx. "I''m trying to collect as many different shapes and sizes. For instance, this one belonged to a particularly dull-witted one¡ªa pale-skinned one from Highwatch. Mostly, you get brown skins in these parts.


    "I have a theory that the shape of the skulls of humanoids determines how intelligent they are. And I''ve always enjoyed examining them."


    "You kill people to collect their skulls?" asked Estela.


    "And their skins as well," said Nyx, missing the horror in Estela''s tone. "I have entire walls worth of adventurers on them. Only those who trespass on my domains, of course."


    "Not a smart move," said Ajax.


    "Oh, but why?" asked Nyx.


    "If you just leave the bodies where they are, people find them and assume some wild animal did it," said Ajax. "Then they stay out. They get the message that something really dangerous is there, but they don''t know for sure it is you.


    "If you start collecting huge numbers of skulls and bones, then sooner or later, someone finds it. Then they start sending bold heroes after you, and it''s nothing but endless fighting."


    Relma wondered if Ajax was critiquing this now out of genuine concern. Or because Relma and Estela were present. It was a question that troubled her.


    "Oh, but I so enjoy devouring would-be heroes," said Nyx. "It''s always the highlight of my week. However, they haven''t really sent any after me lately. Not since Gormath made a truce with me in person.


    "Though the negotiations were pleasant indeed..."


    "I hope you don''t expect us to eat human flesh?" asked Estela, looking ill. Relma felt the same.


    "Don''t be silly," said Nyx. "I intend to make the food myself. I am not a poor host. Please, make yourself at home. And don''t worry, this room has no humanoid skins in it, just animals.


    "I realize it brings about some discomfort.


    "So, what is it that has brought you three out here?"


    "We''re seeking the Dragonfire Shield. King Gormath has told us he will only give it to us if we kill Durag," said Estela quickly.


    "Oh, yes, the usual suicide mission," mused Nyx. "Queen Vanessa tried sending some imposters out to the Conquista. They always give them that job. If it succeeds, Durag is dead; if not, they failed the quest. Then, Vanessa started using it as a means of getting rid of troublesome war leaders.


    "She''d find some curly-blonde-haired boy, assign the problematic warriors to him as a guard, and send him out. I ate a few of them."


    "I thought they believed us a little too quickly," mused Estela. "Any advice?"


    "Well, there are a few ways into the land of Durag," said Nyx, coming to the cave entrance. The first is to cross Bryag''s River by his bridge. You''d have to sail south, land, and head downriver. There are a few fords you could take, but it''s more or less suicide." Within the cave, they found it very clean.


    Two branches of the wall led two different ways. The left had numerous skins tied up next to the wall. Many of them were human, and Relma looked away. On the right side, there were countless other animals'' skins.


    "See, there is a constant stream of the undead around those areas," said Nyx, leading them down the right. "They try to cross over when Bryag is sleeping. Some of my other bodies have good sport hunting the dead."


    "So what would you recommend?" asked Estela.


    "Simple enough," said Nyx. "You want to go to Durag''s domain by sea. Of course, he''s drawn up mountains on his northern coast, but there is one way in.


    "Highwatch."


    "I''ve heard the name," said Estela.


    "It''s the ancient homeland of the dwarves. All the dwarves," said Nyx. "Some of them went north during the wars with Anoa. So those are also descendants.


    "I''ve never been fond of eating them, tough and stringy.


    "Now, who''s hungry?"


    Nyx then ushered them into a dining hall and departed. There, they waited as Ajax told them about what he had seen. It seemed that the jaguar here was an honor guard of sorts, taken from litters to serve Nyx. Most jaguars dwelled in solitary ways, meeting only to mate.


    No one felt much like a conversation. Though Estela was insistent, they had to eat whatever they were offered. With the exception of cannibalism, obviously.


    And then Nyx came back with the meal.


    What she served was a series of forms of meat mixed with spices and rice. Tasting it, Relma was surprised to find that it was excellent. But Estela looked at it in surprise. "What is this?"


    "Don''t worry; it''s not sentient," said Nyx. I keep food stored in an ice cavern below."


    "How do you have an ice spirit here?" asked Relma, thinking of the heat. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Oh, I trapped an ice spirit within the road of ancient stone. Then I cut off all entryways save through my hideout," said Nyx. "It takes a bit of doing, but with willpower and persistence, there are all kinds of conveniences you can make.


    "Although now and then demons break through and never and then there is a full-on invasion. You can see this due to Durag''s experiments. But, those are the risks."


    "You risk demonic invasions to keep the meat cold?" asked Estela.


    "Luxury does have a price, Estela," said Ajax. "Try it."


    Estela did try the food. Judging from her expression, she liked it very much, to the point where she seemed to forget where she was. Relma felt the same about the food, and this made her suspicious. "This is... good. Very good."


    Nyx seemed very pleased. "Yes, I''ve picked up many recipes from merchants I''ve seized. Whenever I capture a cook, I have them teach me in exchange for their lives. Of course, one tried to poison me, so I cooked him.


    "What do you think?" She peered at Relma.


    "This is excellent," said Relma.


    "I''ve always preferred food raw," said Ajax.


    "Well, that does have an appeal," mused Nyx. "But there is something to say for civilization.


    "Care for some oranges?"


    Several jaguars then carried in a bowl of fruit that Relma had not seen before. Taking it, she peeled it and ate it. It was sweet and juicy. Estela also seemed to enjoy it, but Relma kept thinking of all the people who had died.


    "In any case, once you arrive at Highwatch, you can take the south road into Durag''s lands. He still keeps in some contact with the dwarves of that region, so the road won''t be as heavily watched," said Nyx. "Eventually, you''ll reach Blightskull Keep."


    "Subtle naming convention," said Ajax.


    "I found it glaringly obvious," said Nyx. "It''s the border between Highwatch and Durag''s domain. There should be a tunnel within that leads to his clans realms As for how to deal with him. I have no idea."


    "My thanks for the help," said Estela, eating an orange. Though her eyes gazed on Nyx warily. "We''ll need it."


    At that moment, a jaguar loped into sight. Nyx dropped down to all fours naturally and gazed into the creature''s eyes. Then she rosed up with a smile that revealed sharp canines. "Sooner than you may think, actually."


    "I smell something," said Ajax, sniffing. "Warriors, coming through the jungle even now."


    "I smell them," said Nyx. "They''re of the Sun Soul Empire; I can tell by the feathers they are wearing. They must have climbed the northern cliffs to come this way.


    "Well then, we shouldn''t keep them waiting, should we, my dears?"


    Jaguar emerged around her as if for war.


    "What would they want here?" asked Estela.


    "My soul, of course," said Nyx. "It''s why I spread my soul out across multiple bodies, so if I were defeated once by them, I could avoid such a fate."


    "What fate?" asked Relma.


    "To be burned eternally within the fires of the Sun Spirit," said Nyx. "In order to extend its lifespan, of course."


    "But the sun is immortal," said Estela.


    "Nothing physical is immortal, Estela," said Nyx. "Every flame will eventually go out; every bit of this world decay into nothingness. Then, only the spirit will remain.


    "Unless the Sun Soul Empire succeeds, of course.


    "Their goal is to create an eternal universe that lasts forever. And they utilize the Sun Spirit for that purpose. By sending the souls of those they capture to burn within it, they extend its lifespan."


    "That''s horrible," said Relma.


    "They regard it as an extraordinary honor," said Nyx. "Their entire society sacrifices itself to that goal.


    "But we''ve spoken too much; I have a war to plan. Let''s go dine. Want to watch? Or participate in it yourself?"


    "I''m not one to cower behind," said Estela. "Relma, stay here."


    "But-" began Relma.


    "You''re not exactly the best warrior among us. Stay here," said Estela. Then she drew her sword.


    "...Yes, right," said Relma.


    Nyx, Estela, Ajax, and the Jaguars all left almost at once¡ªall except for two Jaguars standing on their haunches at the far side of the wall. Relma waited, wondering how things were turning out and feeling nervous.


    Then, suddenly, the jaguars rose up and snarled. Relma sensed someone behind her and whirled to face them-


    Everything went black.

 Chapter Ten: The Sun Soul Warriors

    Relma awoke, and her head hurt


    .


    Her vision was blurry, and as she tried to get her bearing, she felt the floor swaying. It was also rough like wood. She was on a ship of some kind, and as her vision cleared, she saw a cloudy sky. Moving around the deck around her were a variety of men. They were all large and muscular, wearing little more than loincloths. Though a few wore more elaborate clothes of white and blue. Many wore clubs at their sides of elaborate make.


    Closing her eyes, Relma focused on Aunt Pan''s lessons. She could feel the drugs within her veins and began to work to get through it. Purifying her bloodstream, she, at last, opened her eyes. Now, where was Lightning Trail?


    She could not feel it near, but looking up, saw a man wearing a feathered cloak with a staff. Lightning Trail was at her side. Gradually, he turned to her, and Relma closed her eyes as he approached. Best to feign sleep.


    "Is this her, Quxilang?" asked a rough voice.


    "Yes, the Heir of Kings," said a younger voice.


    "I sense within this one a powerful soul, greater than any I have yet seen outside of gods," said the older man. "You did well to seize her.


    "How many men did you lose?"


    "Five," said Quxillang. "We drew off the main force of Jaguars, but three of us were caught and killed. Of the squad we took to seize the Heir of Kings, we lost three to the guards. We were unable to escape unnoticed."


    "Well, they have reached the heart of the sun," said the High Priest. "There is no greater glory than that."


    "High Priest..." said Quxilang, voice doubtful. He stopped short, however.


    "Yes, speak freely, Quxillang?" asked the High Priest.


    "Are we certain of this?" asked Quxilang. "Saving Durag from this one? I do not question your authority, but to protect that monster..."


    "It is necessary," said Quxillang. "Durag may care only for extending his own life. But he has prevented us from being conquered for centuries. So long as his dead hold the rivers, no true invasion can be launched against us.


    "What if he is killed?


    "His undead would be swept away, High Watch would be able to attack us. So would the Dragon Empire. And the Conquista would surely begin attacks. Our way of life is preserved by his presence.


    "In time, we shall gather enough strength to reclaim the lands stolen from us.


    "But that day is not today."


    "Are we not strong enough now?" asked Quxilang. "Our numbers have swelled. More pyres are rising throughout the villages than ever before.


    "It has gotten to the point where the willing sacrifices outnumber the war sacrifices."


    "The day shall come soon. I hope in your lifetime," said the High Priest. "For now, we must ensure that the flame of life does not die out. Our responsibility is to ensure the survival of this universe. And through it, every race and being that exists. Sacrifices must be made.


    "Now, remain focused. We are very near to Bryag''s River. As soon as we reach it, we will disembark and journey through his lands."


    "What of our obligation to Durag?" asked Quxilang.


    "Durag wishes a meeting with Adrian Wrynncurth. Wrynncurth will surely be drawn here by the loss of his companion," said the High Priest.


    "What of Wrynncurth himself?" asked Quxilang. "If we were to burn his soul-"


    "A tempting target, but not worth pursuing," said the High Priest. "His soul is not his own. When I saw him from the underbrush, I knew it at once. What we saw was no more his body than a marionette is the body of a puppeteer. The true Wrynncurth is elsewhere."


    "So I''m captured by the Sun Soul Empire," thought Relma to herself. "I''d better not let them know I''ve woken up. At least Estela and Ajax got out alright."


    "Look there, ships of the Conquista!" cried someone.


    Risking opening her eyes, Relma was able to see the men scurrying this way and that with the sails. Something plunged into the water near them, sending a spray over Relma. As she watched the chaos, she worked her hands to try and get out.


    "Make for the reefs," said the High Priest, motioning with his staff. "That kind of vessel cannot follow ours."


    Relma wished she could see the other ship. The sound of muskets and other noises like thunder resounded. She saw a man fall to the ground, dead, while others launched arrows in return.


    "They are gaining on us," said Quxilang quickly. "We should fight."


    "No, they are far too many," said the High Priest. "We must be sure to reach the shore."


    On the chaos went, as more shots could be seen regularly. As Relma worked within her bindings, she wondered how it was that they had come all this way. The drugs on her must have been very strong.


    Little by little, she got free.


    Then something shot over her. Splinters landed around her, and a large portion of the far deck was smashed off. Someone was screaming, and Relma saw a man who had lost both legs. Others such smashes were heard as the ship shuddered and listed.


    Finally, she was free.


    But Relma didn''t move yet. She knew very well that as soon as she got up, every single one of these men would be on her. Instead, she wrapped the ropes around her arms. Then she sat still, healing a cut from splinters as she did. Working her feet in her bindings, she managed to loosen them.


    Suddenly there was a crashing sound, and a cheer resounded from the men of the Sun Soul Empire.


    "We''re free!" cried Quixilang. "The Sun shines upon our journey!"


    "But there is the dark," said the High Priest, motioning over the side, Relma guessed toward the shore. "Look there, warriors of the Dragon Empire have marked us. They are sure to tell Bryag about what happened here. We''ll have to land and soon."


    "They may not know our cargo," noted Quixillang.


    "Maybe not," mused the High Priest, "but they know our mission is important. Seldom have we gone to see in recent years.


    "Bring us ashore at once."


    And ashore they went, though it took some time.


    The ship listed, and water leaked into it. The men had to throw water off it even as they neared it. When they finally came ashore, Quxillang looked to the High Priest.


    "What now?" asked Quxillang.


    "Leave the boat," said the High Priest. "And anything that can''t be spared. Together we shall travel light through Durag''s domain. And beyond, to the Sun Soul Empire."


    "Durag may come after us," said Quxillang. "His word is not of worth." As he spoke, Relma began to stir, seeing the shore.


    "We do not need to fear him yet. Get-" began the High Priest.


    Then Relma sprang to her feet, snatched Lightning Trail from his belt, and sprang over the side. Landing in the water, she ran through the salty wetness.


    "The Heir of King''s! She has leaped overboard! After her at once!" cried the High Priest. "Put the bows down!"


    Relma ran onto the shore and only then realized she was coming out of a river near the sea. On the one side was the Dragon Empire, judging from the buildings. On the other lay a blackened and rocky place, veiled in mist.


    And behind her came the Sun Soul Warriors.


    Relma knew that she would perish if she was caught here and ran for what seemed to be a ford. Even as she reached it, however, she saw soldiers of the Dragon Empire crossing toward her. One launched an arrow her way, and Relma turned to run.


    Caught between the Sun Soul Empire and the Dragon Empire, Relma leaped into the river. And it was not a moment too soon. Even as she surfaced, she saw the two sides meeting in battle. Quxillang was wielding what seemed a club. It was tipped with steel blades and using it with vicious strokes. A man of the Dragon Empire fell dead; his skull had been cleaved, even as a Sun Soul Warrior was speared through the gut.


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    The river was soon stained blood red, even as Relma pulled herself ashore, running for the hills. All hopes of crossing like this were bad; she''d be taken for a spy or deserter and killed for sure. Instead, she moved into the mist, and finding a ditch, threw herself into it. It was beneath the gaze of a huge cliff face.


    From here, Relma could see the battle waging. The Sun Soul Warriors were far fewer. From the looks of things, they were being overwhelmed. Yet suddenly, out of the hills near her sprang many more warriors like them. They were dressed the same, but the warriors with them had paler skin and dead eyes.


    "FOR THE DRAGON EMPIRE! FOR BRYAG AND QUEEN VANESSA!" yelled someone.


    More men from the Dragon Empire came. Relma guessed that Vanessa had chosen to reduce her population. Probably by invading Durag instead of Escor. Assuming there was not some other reason. Still, the Dragon Empire seemed to be having better luck here.


    "That''s my usual run of luck, I guess," muttered Relma, dusting herself off. "Though I don''t have any food or weapons, so not as much as I thought. What do I do now? Well, I ought to head inland to get away from the Sun Soul Warriors.


    "But perhaps if I got to the bridge, I could flee and meet Bryag?


    "Does Nyx have any holdings here? Would she recognize me? I think she mentioned something about being in the Sun Soul Empire. No, best not to go into the lion''s den. Not like this anyway."


    And then she saw the dead.


    They were walking out of the mist toward her, and their hands were outstretched. A panic came over Relma, and she knew she could not stay. Springing up, she rushed back toward the shore, then turned away from the battle. She hoped she might escape before someone marked her presence.


    Follow along the river until she found a save ford; yes, that was the best plan.


    Only the dead were coming out of the highlands all around her. And as the rate she was running, she''d be driven into the river. A glance back revealed that the Dragon Empire was now fighting the undead. The Sun Soul Empire had withdrawn, leaving the walking corpses to take the brunt of the fighting.


    Now Relma realized she''d either be able to leap into the river and try to swim to the other side. Or be grabbed by the undead.


    Taking her chances, she ran forward-


    And then there was a flaring of light, and she fell back blinded. When the light passed, the High Priest stood before her. His staff was in hand, and with him was Quixillang and several others. "Seize her, at once."


    And they did seize her. Relma knew better than to try using Lightning Trail for actual sword fighting. She''d only make a fool of herself.


    "I suppose you think you''re brave," said the High Priest.


    "Actually, I''d say I''m more desperate," admitted Relma.


    Well, she''d just have to talk her way out of this, then.


    And then the dragons arrived.


    You could hear their wingbeats long before you could see them, and Relma saw a score of them swooping down. The High Priest looked upwards at their coming and motioned to his men.


    "Come quickly; we must get off this shore! The enemy is on us!"


    Relma had her hands tied, and this time was forced to run. They quickly made their way into the hills. As they did, a glance back revealed the Dragon Empire was fighting through. The dead''s armies were being burned to a cinder by the dragons as the infantry marched through.


    "Let us stay behind! We shall hold them!" said two men.


    "Now is not the time for that," said Quxillang. "We run for now, into the hills.


    "Let these unfortunate creatures halt the advance for now."


    The undead streamed past them as they ran into the hills. Relma tried to work her bindings off but reflected that it would be best to try negotiation. Even as they did, the Dragons could be heard pouring fire and roaring.


    "They are persistent, aren''t they?" asked one.


    "Panthera may have notified them of what we are doing," said the High Priest. "I was not aware Queen Vanessa was so interested in this one.


    "It changes nothing, however.


    "Asuxil, Marsuma, you will remain here. The enemy will only be able to come up this point one at a time, and there will be a steep climb. The rocks will provide cover from the arrows. You must make a stand and keep them back as long as you are able."


    "We hear and obey, High Priest," said Asuxil and Marsuma, saluting with their weapons. They then went to hide behind the rocks. Relma could see men of the Dragon Empire scaling up the hills.


    If they were here to help Relma, she knew she ought to be grateful and remember it later. For now, though, she had to escape the men leading her away.


    "Why are you going to all this trouble just to capture me?" asked Relma.


    "We have no vendetta with you," said the High Priest. "Nor do we hold any vendetta with any living creature.


    "However, it is our task to stop the decay of the universe. That may only be achieved by sacrifices, willing or otherwise. The efforts of mortals can only temporarily stave off the end of the universe.


    "Our spirits, however strong, are not strong enough.


    "But immortals, manifestations of ideals? Divine domains? Those exist outside of the physical world. You have within you the spirit of a powerful immortal, the Angel of Virtue. Consequently, you are high on our list of targets to acquire."


    "You really don''t want to do that," said Relma quickly. "There''s an entire army waiting at the border of the Dragon Empire. If I die, they''ll invade sooner or later."


    "The Sun Spirit spoke to us," said the High Priest. "Though you are powerful, you are considered a threat by all. You will not be missed."


    "Maybe not, but King Tyus will use me as an excuse to conquer more land," said Relma quickly. "My friends will be able to arrange a safe passage. Then you''ll be facing the Dragon Empire, the Conquista, and an entirely new army with only Durag.


    "Just because Tyus doesn''t like me doesn''t mean he won''t jump at the chance to use me as an excuse for conquest."


    The High Priest looked at her from under a careworn brow. He looked very tired, oddly enough. "You have little faith in your fellows, do you not?"


    "I have faith in them. I just also know how they think," said Relma. "I''m more useful to you alive than dead."


    "What do you mean?" asked the High Priest.


    "Think about it," said Relma quickly. "I am the Heir of Kings, and I have a lot of influence over those armies. Escor, the place we came from, has been in a nonstop war with the Dragon Empire for centuries. We can''t even speak their language while you can.


    "If you take me to Durag, that will draw Wrynncurth to him and achieve his goal. Once we''re all in one place, we can talk this out. I might be able to find a way for everyone to get what they want without any more violence."


    "The Red Dragons do not cooperate," said the High Priest. "What they do not dominate, they destroy."


    "Yes," said Relma, "but if things go as planned, they''ll be surrounded. They''ll have no choice but to make terms.


    "And if it doesn''t work, you just do whatever you were going to do in the first place. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    What do you have to lose?"


    "The Sun Spirit warned us of you," said the High Priest warily. "Your words are said to put a spell on men."


    "Well, my Aunt Pan once told me to never use a spell when asking nicely will do," said Relma quickly. "Does anything I''m saying not make sense?"


    The High Priest halted, then looked to his men. "...We''ll take her to the village.


    "Once there, we''ll communicate with my brothers and decide on a course of action. Solidifying our borders may result in a greater extension to the universe in the long term. More than putting her on a pyre."


    "Thank you," said Relma. "May I know your name?"


    "I am Montazus," said the High Priest. "Quickly, we have to move."


    Their journey was not a pleasant one. There seemed to be little life in this land, but many corpses. Almost all of them were walking in endless rows as they went to war. Relma wondered how anyone could find so many bodies.


    "...Where did all these corpses come from?" asked Relma.


    "Many places," said Montazus. "The Road of Ancient Stone has innumerable bodies within it. The people of these lands have long since taken to burning their dead. Yet Durag continues to bolster his ranks.


    "We have not yet discovered his secret, nor do we wish to.


    "Such knowledge would only be a temptation and would be useful for no good purpose."


    "Wouldn''t knowing how he is doing it help destroy the source?" asked Relma.


    "Perhaps," admitted Montazus. "However, the bodies of the dead have souls within them. They are a ready source of power for our pyres. When our quotas are not filled, we may use them as a supplement."


    Relma shuddered as they passed beneath a gray crag. "You mean...


    "But I thought that undead were reanimated corpses. They''re held together by the power of Withering."


    "Some of them are," said Montazus. "However, the souls within the corpses here are not like those of men. They are decayed and filled with mindless hunger. They are a danger to all around them.


    "Burning them is mercy."


    "Eternal torment is mercy?" asked Relma.


    "Pain and torment are not the same things," said Montazus. "Life is pain.


    "There is no pain that a being cannot endure, should they have the will. And through enduring that pain, you gain enlightenment. All souls that are burned within the sun will gain enlightenment through pain.


    "And by that enlightenment will we halt the end of this world."


    "What if they don''t?" asked Relma.


    "Then they would not have gained enlightenment anyway. They would be cursed to destruction, even without our efforts," said Montazus. "Torment comes from ignorance, not pain."


    "Are you sure?" asked Relma.


    "No more questions," said Montazus. "I haven''t the time for this."


    "High Priest, Bryag is coming!" cried Quixillang suddenly. "See there!"


    Sure enough, there was Bryag, more an island in the sky than a creature. His flaming breath scorched miles of terrain with a swing of his head. His wingbeats shook the ground beneath their feet.


    "Quickly, to the tower!" said Montazus.


    Sprinting, they rounded a bend and came before a great tower. Beyond it, they saw a green country with many farms around it. No undead were near it, and Relma hoped Bryag wouldn''t go there.


    Montazus made for the tower, and they sprinted into the open doors. A moment later, Bryag came, and a blazing inferno descended around them. Relma thought for sure the tower would melt around them. The heat on her face sent her and the others staggering back. Yet some magic held the flames away.


    "What magic is at work here?" asked Relma.


    "This tower is specially designed to defend against dragons," said Montazus. "It was forged in ancient days when the Sun Soul Empire ruled these lands. Unfortunately, those days are long past; now they are but a shelter. Tended to by the dead."


    He motioned to a walking corpse, sweeping away dust.


    Suddenly there was an ungodly shrieking as the flames passed. Relma looked and saw dozens of creatures around Wrynncurth''s size flying toward Bryag. The huge dragon turned in midair, trying to roast them with his breath.


    "There are Durag''s gargoyles now! Bryag can''t fight them all!" said Quixillang.


    "He can certainly fight a lot of them," said Relma as many of them were melted to slag.


    "Well, what do you expect?" asked Montazus. "He''s Bryag."


    At last, however, Bryag turned and, with a final roar, flew away. The movement outpaced the gargoyles that returned to the hills beyond. Relma took care to note the direction Bryag was heading. The information could be useful if she had to make a run for it.


    "We should move on; the village is not far," said Montazus.


    For once, Relma agreed. She just hoped she could get her hands freed. She''d need to be able to make a run for it if this went badly.

 Chapter Eleven: The Domain of Durag

    Montazus led at the front of the group along many paths. Two days passed before they reached a village.


    Several people came out to meet them. All of them were pale-skinned, like those who had attacked the Dragon Empire before. However, they dressed much the same and had similar weapons, yet there was a death theme to them. Skulls were carved into the doorframes of their houses.


    The houses had been built of stone with thatched roofs. A large palisade wall surrounded them, but there were no guards. The path was dirt and kept clear, but there was a forlorn look to this place. It seemed as though it was all a frame, and at the center was a firepit filled with bones¡ªsome of them human.


    Relma looked to Montazus, and a question occurred. She thought about how best to ask it. Eventually, she decided to just go ahead and say it right out. "Do the villagers here serve you or Durag?"


    "Neither, though they worship the Sun, they do not believe in the faith," said Montazus. "To do so would bring the wrath of Durag, for they must sacrifice their bodies and spirits to him. Now quiet, we are to be met."


    Another priest, though very differently dressed, came before them. His headdress was made of black feathers, and he bore skull emblems. It was a sharp contrast to Montazus''s own sun regalia, and Relma liked it somewhat better. It also had no gold or silver. She did not like all the scars on his body or the long, jagged knife.


    "Welcome, High Priest Montazus. You honor us by your presence. Is this the sacrifice?" asked the priest, bowing as he did so.


    "Perhaps, perhaps not," said Montazus. "We will need to rest here tonight. My brethren and I have seen many friends depart to the Sun Spirit."


    "Then Durag mourns their absence," said the priest in a mournful tone. Too many have fallen in these wars already."


    "Will Bryag come against us, Quxil?" asked Montazus quickly. "Or has he departed? We must know it."


    "I do not think he will return today," said Quxil. Durag''s gargoyles are now in great force. The Dragon Empire knows to fear them." He motioned skyward to where Relma saw many dozens of the creatures. They were flying like vultures above them. "You are welcome to our hospitality, of course. As cousins."


    "Cousins?" asked Relma as she was led into the village. The villages gave way to them or stayed in their houses¡ªmore the latter than the former.


    "Those who serve the Sun Spirit are all brothers in faith," said Montazus. "Those who dwell here are likewise kin. Yet they are of a more distant form."


    Relma nodded and then saw a pillar of fire burning high at the top of a hill in the center of town. Yet there was nothing for it to be fueled on, save for charred bones scattered around it. Looking at it gave her a chill. "What is that?"


    "The pyre of the sacrificed. One is set at the center of every one of the Sun''s followers," said Montazus.


    Quxil led them at last to a huge longhouse. It had what looked to be a stable near it; however, there were no horses within. Relma wondered why they would need such a thing.


    At a guess, she speculated that messengers from other lands might need it. Or perhaps the horses were elsewhere right now. Montazus, however, did not give it a second glance.


    Instead, he regarded his men, who were tired of running and fighting and pointed to them. "You men, rest. I shall begin the ritual in the isolation room." He looked to Relma. "Do I have your oath not to try and escape?"


    "Until you decide to burn me alive, yes," said Relma, not being quite so nice as to go further.


    "As good as can be expected," said Montazus. Then he looked to Quxil. "I ask that you ensure this one does not leave the village. Other than that, she may do as she will."


    Relma paused as Montazus left, not waiting for Quxil''s answer. The people in the village eyed her doubtfully, and Relma decided to make a good first impression. "Excuse me, Quxil? Are there any injured or sick? I have healing power."


    "There are some in the house of healing," said Quxil. "Or battle with the Dragon Empire injured many of us. We could not take any prisoners this time because of the Dragons."


    "You take prisoners?" asked Relma.


    "Captives are, traditionally, burned in that pyre," said Quxil. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Relma was very glad they had not taken any prisoners. That would have put her in the position of having to save them, and that could break up negotiations. "I''d like to do what I can for your wounded."


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    Helping these people could not hurt her and might ingratiate her to others.


    Quxil allowed her into the area where the wounded were kept under watch. Relma quickly set about healing everyone she could. William had had a pretty good idea by doing this, and as she worked, she realized just how hard it was. It had been bad enough to be on healing duty when there were dozens of trained healers.


    Yet there did not seem to be any, not of any magical kind. Quxil seemed to use herbs and bandages. And some of them seemed to work well, yet he used no magic. Relma, meanwhile, found her skills taxed to the limit.


    Before, Relma had assumed that her inferior healing skills were due to a lack of practice and her mindset. Yet now, she was just wondering if perhaps William was better. Healing stomach wounds took her precious minutes, and doing so was exhausting. William had healed such wounds in mere moments without any trouble.


    Relma, however, had been taught to send men in great pain into sleep. She used this technique several times on people who had been badly injured.


    "Why are you aiding us?" asked Quxil. "You may be sacrificed on that very pyre if the High Priest does not want to take you to the capital?"


    "Maybe, but that won''t be your fault," said Relma. "Besides, I think I might be able to set things up so everyone benefits." Relma needed information now. "So, what''s it like serving Durag?"


    "Durag and his dwarves dwell in many cities beneath the ground," said Quxil. "Our purpose is to grow food that his mortal servants can eat. If we perform well, we may be allowed to become true undead."


    "True undead?" asked Relma.


    "Undead that speak with the language of men," said Quxil. "Most people are, by nature, weak of mind. They need their bodies to prop up their spirits. Thus, when they become undead, they become mindless things of instinct. They are tortured mockeries of true beings.


    "But one who is strong of will and virtuous will be able to be sentient. Perhaps even become an assistant to the scientists living within Durag''s domain."


    "Scientists?" asked Relma. She''d never heard that phrase.


    "Seekers of knowledge who want the truth," said Quxil. "They wield strange languages and chants that we do not understand. However, they have taught us many means of healing without the magic of other cultures.


    "Durag does not like magic."


    "Why not?" asked Relma.


    "Durag believes that magic is fickle and unreliable," said Quxil. "And the pursuit of truth would eventually lead to its extinction."


    Relma decided not to question further. Durag was an authority figure, and questioning him seemed a poor choice. "Who are Durag''s mortal servants?"


    "Dwarves, for the most part, the descendants of his original clan," said Quxil. "They always become sentient undead, for by nature they are stronger of will."


    "What makes them stronger?" asked Relma, suspecting the true answer to be nothing.


    Quxil paused. "...We do not know. Questioning Durag or his officers is not wise."


    Relma finished the last patient quickly and slumped, tired but victorious. Then she smiled and looked at Quxil. "Thank you for your help.


    "I''ll be sure to ask him when we meet. Tell me, how did your people come to be ruled by Durag?"


    "Ages ago, Durag came to this land when he yet lived," said Quxil. "In those days, our people had sought to break free from the pyres of the Sun Soul Empire. Durag and his clan promised us protection from the Sun Soul Empire. In exchange for our allegiance to Highwatch, we agreed.


    "For a time, we were protected at peace. Our crops were fruitful and yielded great harvests, and our borders were secure. We had wars without cousins to the south and east now and then. But the armies of the dwarves kept us strong.


    "Then, when the dwarves receded in power, Durag ascended. He, the Scientist King, gained dominion over all these lands. Then our tribute was given to him."


    "Why do you have a pyre at the heart of this village if you don''t believe anymore?" asked Relma, curious.


    "It has always been there," said Quxil. "Only those who commit grave crimes are sacrificed there. Except, of course, prisoners of war."


    "And you became allies with the Sun Soul Empire again, when?" asked Relma.


    Quxil shrugged. "We are whatever Durag wills us to be. He is the Scientist King.


    "He slays those who abandon reason."


    Relma did not like Durag''s sound one bit. "I''ll keep it in mind." Then, suddenly, her attention was drawn to a place beyond the village. It looked like a cave, but the ground around it was barren of life. Many skulls were lying there, abandoned and charred. "Tell me that grove. What lies there?"


    Quxil looked at it. "That was once Nyx''s domain, and she hunted our people day and night. However, Mazus the Bold, the founder of our village, was able to hunt her down. Entering her lair, he fought with her in single combat and subdued her.


    "Thus she was burned upon a Pyre, and much of her power was sent to the Sun Spirit. She was the first sacrifice upon the pyre, and it solidified it."


    "Does anyone live there now?" asked Relma.


    "Nyx''s hunting grounds are a cursed place," said Quxil with a shrug. "They are inhabitable only by her servants and guests, and we have hunted them to extinction here."


    "But she told me that she has holdings in the Sun Soul Empire," said Relma. "When I met her." Nyx seemed to be strange and, if Relma was, to be honest, an evil entity. At least from a human standing. Was she operating on a different standard of morality?


    It wasn''t one Relma would want to live near. If she spread her power here, there would have to be changes.


    "She does," said Quxil. "They are places of horror where people are dragged off to be devoured and taken from the Sun Soul Empire.


    Quxil shifted. Then he walked outside, and Relma followed. "Nyx sometimes finds favor in young maidens she finds comely."


    "Estela..." realized Relma, becoming very worried suddenly. "Has she ever done it to a guest?"


    "No," said Quxil, and he sounded aghast at the suggestion.


    Relma looked at the mouth of the cavern and felt uneasy. She had never felt this kind of fear before. The only place that came close was Del Gabor, and that was a long way away. She wondered just what kind of creature Nyx was. "Has anyone ever gone into that place?"


    "Few have," said Quxil. And those who enter never return unchanged. There is a shadow of death in that black place. I should avoid it if you value your sanity.


    "Nyx''s death causes a breach within the domain. Now it touches on hell itself."


    Relma paused and then began to walk toward the den of Pantera. It was on impulse, but she felt that something within that place was important. There was something she had to see. Perhaps it was a message from her higher self.


    "Where are you going?" asked Quxil.


    "To see what''s inside," said Relma.


    Reaching the mouth of the cave, she looked inside.

 Chapter Twelve: Reality in Dreams

    Relma could not remember stepping into the cave.


    All she knew was that she came to a place that looked like a throne room. It reminded her of Steward Benarus'' throneroom. Yet instead of white, it was gold. The sun''s rays poured through the ceiling, and as she walked, she felt as though she had been here many times before. The air was warm and there was a kind of glow within it.


    It was as if someone had walked into an era of myth and legend.


    There was music in the air as well as a strange one. As she walked further upwards, Relma saw before her Anoa the Bright. He sat upon his throne, clad in shining mail, and Lightning Trail was laid over his knees.


    "Relma, I have awaited your arrival," said Anoa.


    Relma knew at once that this was not fully real. Lightning Trail was by her side, after all. "Anoa?


    "How do you have a presence here?"


    "My presence extends over many domains," said Anoa. "Among them is this place, sustained by the Conquista''s obedience to my ancient command. Pantera called me into this place with her dying breath, and I answered."


    "What is in this place?" asked Relma, remembering that this realm was connected to hell. "What are you guarding?"


    "Only what is within you, of course," said Anoa. "What you see around you is akin to a... dream of sorts.


    "Those who enter this place see their own nature and the consequences of that nature. Some emerge stronger, others break.


    "Are you certain you wish to press on?"


    Relma considered the question for a long moment. Finally, she realized there was only one answer. "I have to see my own weaknesses if I''m going to be a good king."


    "A wise attitude, but perhaps not a healthy one," said Anoa. "Tell me, can a King be a King if she is not willing to kill?"


    "It''s not that I''m not willing to do it," said Relma. "I just don''t ever want to do it. I don''t want to rule or conquer anyone, and if I can avoid blood, I will."


    "Really?" asked Anoa. "It is one thing to say a thing. It is another thing to do it."


    And then the world changed.


    Relma was standing upon a path within a vast fortress. A stream was running downhill near her, and through the trees, she could see a sickly greenish sky. The sound of combat could be heard, and Relma listened for it, and in the distance, she saw smoke rising.


    She wondered where she was and put her hand to a sword. "Where...


    "Where is this?"


    And then a boy rushed down the slopes toward her, or at least she thought it was a boy. He was an elf, with blue skin, but further examination revealed scales all over him. As he saw her, he shuddered and then looked back. A figure was coming down after them. "Help! Help me please! You have to help me! They''re going to kill me!"


    "Who?" asked Relma, coming forward.


    "Adrianeth''s warriors, they''re after me," said the boy. "Please, don''t tell them I went this-"


    And then, out of the woods, stepped a huge humanoid lizard-creature. Relma had been told that lizardfolk were mortal shells for magical beings. They were beings impossible to comprehend. Yet this one seemed to be all too real and comprehensible to her, as he moved forward. He had orangish scales and teeth like a crocodile.


    "I am Ranush, servant of Adrianeth!" said the lizardfolk. "Step aside from that boy, girl. He is a fugitive from Adrianeth''s law."


    "What has he done?" asked Relma.


    "It''s not what he''s done," said Ranush. "It''s who he''s related to. He is a Prince of our enemies and could become a threat if he rallies them. I have killed many of his father''s warriors. And catching him will gain me further glory."


    "Why do you need glory?" asked Relma.


    "I need not answer to you!" said Ranush. "We kill whom we wish, and none dare resist us! That boy is Imras! The heir to one of our enemies, and he will die by our hand! If you oppose us, you, too will die!


    "Now step aside, and you shall be left unhurt."


    "Please, don''t let them take me. I don''t want to die," said Imras.


    "Then you''d better start acting the role of a Prince," said Relma. "Do you have any relatives or friends you can go to?"


    "Yes," said Imras. "My aunt, Sashraleen, has a fortified village with many allies."


    "Then go to her and ask for shelter," said Relma. "Don''t declare yourself to anyone until you''re sure whose side they''re on.


    "Go now."


    Ranush charged with a roar. Relma drew Lightning Trail and prepared for a fight. Then she remembered what had happened last time she did this against Ajax. So instead, taking a chance, she threw herself forward at Ranush''s feet. Grabbing him around the legs, she caused him to overbalance.


    With a cry, Ranush fell forward and landed hard on the ground. Relma then stood and leaped upon him from behind, hoping he wasn''t dead. One of the techniques of healing Relma had learned from Aunt Pan was putting someone into sleep. Relma was trained to do it when they were in pain, and she couldn''t heal them.


    Now, setting Lightning Trail to Ranush''s back, she channeled such a spell through it.


    Imras was watching still.


    "What are you waiting for?" asked Relma. "Stop cowering and get out of here! Live up to your name!"


    Imras ran as Ranush fell to the ground, unconscious.


    And the world shifted.


    Anoa was sitting before her, hands clasped together before him. "Why didn''t you kill him, may I ask? Ranush will not stop seeking that boy''s blood because he was stopped once. Far from it."


    "Maybe he will still try to kill the boy," said Relma. "Or maybe he''ll be more careful and change for the better. If I killed him, one person would be dead. This way, two people are alive and can change the world and themselves for the better."


    "Touching," said Anoa. "And what if neither changes for the better? What if Ranush simply becomes a worse murderer?"


    "Ranush is a soldier," said Relma. "And I could say the same for the boy. Maybe if I let the boy go, he''ll become a King. And he''ll be the worst king the world has ever known.


    "It could happen.


    "But I''m not willing to kill people simply because of what they could become. I don''t even want to kill people for what they are.


    "Was this supposed to be one of those things where I have to chose between my ideals and saving innocent life? Because those sorts of situations don''t really exist."


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    "The possibility of a situation where there is no good answer is one that all kings must face," said Anoa. "A point where you can only pick the lesser evil."


    "I don''t believe that," said Relma. "There is always a good decision you can make in any situation. Maybe it won''t always have good results, but that will be because of things outside of your control.


    "If you choose to do the right thing, and someone else does wrong, it does not make your decision evil. Only unlucky."


    "Well then," said Anoa. "Let us see how Ranush is using his new lease on life, shall we?"


    Relma was transported back to that world.


    Looking out, she found herself standing on a hill. As she did, she was looking down as people were fleeing from a flaming village. They were carrying whatever they could, some of them going armed. Relma saw Ranush and his men following them.


    "What is this?" murmured Relma.


    "Hide, quickly!" said someone. "The lizardfolk are coming! Ranush is coming!"


    Anoa stood beside her, pointing down to the village. "Even as we speak, the one you did not kill has obsessed with redeeming himself. He''s taken to fighting with extra viciousness.


    "Imras, meanwhile, has yet to be heard from."


    "Let me intervene," said Relma.


    "Why?" asked Anoa.


    "Let me stop them again," said Relma.


    "You do not even know if any of this is real. It could just be an illusion," said Anoa.


    "If it is just an illusion, then it doesn''t prove anything, does it?" asked Relma. "You could make it turn out anyway you want, no matter what I did. So it has to be real in some form."


    "Then why do you care?" asked Anoa.


    "It doesn''t matter if it is real or not to me," said Relma. "I can''t look at injustice and do nothing to stop it."


    "As you wish, Relma," said Anoa. "Perhaps being hacked to pieces will be of some educational value."


    Relma rushed down the hill, sword in hand, and watched as the people fled. Turning Lightning Trail around, Relma drove it into the ground before her. Then she waited as the people ran.


    "You," said a man. "Run! The lizardfolk are coming! Ranush is coming!"


    "I know," said Relma. "That''s why I''m here. Go on. I''ll deal with them."


    They left without words, murmuring among themselves, and Relma waited. Soon, around the bend came Ranush and his men, wielding tridents and axes. As they neared, however, they halted seeing Relma. She wondered if she looked so impressive.


    Oh wait, Ranush had recognized her, and he''d stopped. And as soon as he stopped, everyone else does.


    "Ranush," said Relma. "Why are you persecuting these people!"


    "You..." said Ranush, who was larger now. "What are you?! I know you from before, yet you have not aged a day."


    "Why are you attacking these people? What do you gain by it?" asked Relma.


    "They are resisting us, and we defeated them!" said Ranush. "They gave shelter to Prince Imras, who caught many of our brethren in an ambush and killed them to the man! Their land and lives are ours to do with as we wish! I need not justify my actions, for strength along is justifications!"


    "But I defeated you, didn''t I?" asked Relma. "You attacked me and were defeated. I left you alive. I took nothing from you. And Imras defeated your brethren. Does that not make his killings justified?"


    "It was your mistake to make, coming here!" snarled Ranush "I am far stronger now!"


    Relma wondered if she''d actually die if killed her. Anoa had seemed to think she''d survive somehow, but time to take a risk. "Then strike me down where I stand. I wouldn''t be able to defeat you, anyone."


    Ranush halted. "You admit this openly?"


    Relma laughed. "I''m a terrible fighter; I only won against you because of luck. So I was able to blindside you with healing magic.


    "If you came to me alone, fighting seriously, I''m sure I''d be dead. And if all these were to be sent against me? I wouldn''t have a chance."


    "You realize that it is within my power to kill you even now?" asked Ranush. "And yet you stand before me for these rebels?"


    "Everyone dies eventually," said Relma with a shrug. "Is it really strength to be able to hurt someone through violence? Does power come from the arm? Or the heart?"


    "You speak in meaningless riddles," noted Ranush.


    "Maybe I do," said Relma. "But if these people who are fleeing from you are truly so weak, then what do you gain by crushing them? You have already won; those that remain are beggers in the wilderness. They can do you no more harm.


    "So, what glory is there in crushing them?"


    Ranush halted and regarded her strangely. Then looked to where a number of his warriors were whispering among themselves. "...You are brave, indeed. Braver than some of my own warriors.


    "Take the refugees and guide them to wherever you will. I shall allow them to flee."


    The rest became a blur, and Relma knew it was her greater self who was leading those refugees. Yet her decision had been of the utmost importance.


    What was important was that she once more stood before the throne of Anoa.


    And he did not look happy. He seemed to be peering over the tapestries of fate, and it seemed to be turning against him. Relma smiled. "Satisfied?"


    "Yes, you''ve certainly done an excellent job of practicing appeasement," said Anoa. "Would you like to see a glimpse of destiny, Relma? Of the future that your actions will lead to."


    Suspicion was growing in her mind that Anoa was more than he pretended to be. Yet Relma had the feeling that she was missing half the pieces to a puzzle of sorts. Perhaps she already knew the answer. But she was now convinced that Anoa was far more than he appeared.


    "If you want," said Relma.


    Anoa stood from his throne, and as he did, all the realm shifted around him. And Relma found that she wore a helm and armor. Her armies were innumerable; she saw men from the Conquista, black and red dragons. And against her on a great hill were assembled legions.


    "Behold, the final battle," said Anoa. "Upon that hill sits the standard of House Gabriel, your enemies. They are even now mustering their forces in your own time. Duke William Gabriel seeks respect and power, and when denied it, he will take it by force. As you press your claims, they shall press theirs.


    "Those who hate you shall follow under his banner. They proclaim him the true Heir of Kings and see him as Anoa reborn. And many of those who have come to hate House Gabriel now join your supporters.


    "Now your armies stand opposed against them. What, Relma Artorious, will you do here?


    "There can be no truce without submission¡ªno victory without destroying the opposing army. Your enemy stands upon that hill, clad the armor of skulls. Many in your army will fight him, even if you submit.


    "No matter what decision you make, your actions have led to this war. And if victory is gained, you will be expected to hand the spoils out to your subordinates. Many of those who oppose you will be better men than those they are rewarding.


    "What will you do, Heir of Kings?"


    Relma shifted, considering why William would choose to oppose her. The reasons were obvious, of course. His family was rising in power and might become Kings someday. Vanion Gabriel was already enemies with Arengeth. They''d sheltered Tanith when she''d fled, after all, no questions asked.


    Perhaps if she could befriend William, get him to see her side of things. A political marriage might even be doable. Relma supposed she could marry William ensuring a line of kings.


    The world shifted.


    Yet the battle had not gone away. Instead, Relma saw the forces of Haldren assembled upon the hill before them. Other houses she had not met, houses of Antion. And with them stood the banner of Sorn, and several other nations.


    "I don''t..."


    "House Gabriel has many virtues," said Anoa. "And virtuous men gain power. Power invites jealousy. Those who saw House Gabriel, their nemesis about to become Kings of Harlenor, rebelled. And so now you face another alliance.


    "And because they were less powerful than the Gabriel alliance, they called in help. Sorn was only too happy to take their part for a favorable trade arrangement. And with their money, an army of mercenaries was hired."


    Relma considered how she could appeal to these people and House Gabriel. But she knew virtually nothing about Sorn and had never been to these places. Without understanding them, how could she negotiate? And what could she offer them?


    Nothing.


    Relma came up with a few ideas of going to these places and trying to unify people. But realistically, she''d only have ideals. Her previous attempts at peacemaking hadn''t worked because she smiled a lot. Centuries'' worth of hatred and rivalry could not be destroyed easily. Not even if everyone became friends.


    Friendship could be the basis of peace, but it could not create peace itself. Friendships could be broken by economic need and selfishness. The Gabriel-Vortegex-Estal vendetta proved that much. At the end of the day, the nations were competing for resources, and there would be haves and have nots. Relma would have to reward her followers and punish her enemies once there was a war.


    And there would be war.


    As Relma''s powerbase increased, other powers would be afraid of her. And they would not be so easily integrated into her new order. Not once she had obligations to her existing followers.


    "You understand, don''t you?" asked Anoa. "War cannot be stopped. Only postponed to one faction''s benefit. You cannot please everyone, and if you attempt to do so, you will only alienate your allies.


    "Sooner or later, you will have to march to war to defend what you have built.


    "How do you intend to do so without being willing to kill? Assuming you haven''t already done so. You''ve inspired a great many killers, after all, that could be put on your hands."


    Relma came to one, inevitable answer. "...I don''t know."


    "Then perhaps you should consider as much," said Anoa. "For there will come a day when no kind words or clever thinking shall save you. Only steel may do that. Remember this vision, for someday, it may come true."


    Relma nodded, and as she did, the throne surrounding her faded away. Looking to Anoa, she saw him fading into a dark figure. And she saw his true nature. "I will.


    "Thank you, Melchious."


    "My name has no meaning to me," was the only response.


    The cave was empty, and something in the air seemed to snap. The darkness that had consumed the cave faded away. Relma turned and made her way up the slope of the cave, coming out of it. And before her, she saw many people around her.


    Relma felt exhausted, suddenly, and her every inch hurt. She wondered how she would have faired without Lightning Trail.


    "You''ve emerged from the Den of Pantera, and you live?" asked a man. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes..." said Relma, looking back. "The enchantment is broken."


    "...Who are you?" said someone.


    And Relma had her answer. "I am Relma Artorious, the Heir of Kings and Angel of Virtue.


    "And I have come to save this land."

 Chapter Thirteen: Durag

    The rest of the day passed without much in the way of events. Relma took this to be a good sign.


    Granted, people were awestruck. Relma spent a good deal longer healing some ailments. New wounded arrived from other battlefields, and a man hurt himself plowing. But overall, Relma had an ordinary day and slept peacefully until that morning.


    As Relma awoke the next morning, Quxillang woke her, tossing a traveling pack at her. "Relma, get up; we have a journey ahead of us."


    "Where to?" asked Relma, rising quickly.


    "To the realm of Durag, of course," said Montazus, standing some way away with some of his men. "I have communed with the Emperor, and he has dictated that your plan is to be given a trial."


    "Oh, good to know," said Relma, who hadn''t been expecting much else. Then she looked at the pyre. "Do they ever bury those bones?"


    "Of course not," said Montazus. "The bones remain in the pyre until they become ashes and are cast away by the wind. Such is tradition.


    "Durag shall meet us at the gates."


    And they were off, further into the highlands and away from this fertile region. As they walked, Relma glanced back to the village. She then realized that William had spent all this time doing this thing regularly. And she doubted very much that he''d been given nearly so awed a reception.


    Relma probably never would have started doing it if she hadn''t heard he was doing it. That wasn''t to say William wasn''t far too proud for his good. But it disturbed her a bit that he at least appeared to have more empathy. Then again, Relma was the incarnation of an Angel of Virtue, not kindness or compassion.


    Speaking of which, Relma wanted to know exactly how her actions fit into all this. Had she been destined to hijack the prophecy, to begin with? Or had she willingly chosen to try and hijack it against what she was supposed to do? Perhaps she, the Angel of Virtue, had been intended to bear the son who became the Heir of Kings. Only she went into it with ulterior motives and planned to take that destiny for herself all along.


    And did Relma Artorious exist? Or was she just a mask that the angel herself believed in?


    All these questions seemed destined to have very depressing answers, so Relma chose to ignore them. Instead, as they walked into a great valley with many black trees, she looked to Montazus. "Where are these gates?"


    "Not far," said Montazus. "At the far end of this valley."


    The black trees, however, became more and more like claws as they walked. They seemed to be grasping at Relma. The grass at their feet caught on their boots and sandals, trying to drag them down. And the sun, far above, was becoming a baleful green.


    "The land is changing..." mused Relma. "What is this?"


    "This is the domain of Envy. Or part of it," said Montazus. ''Durag''s realm exists in a place connected to the hells of Envy."


    "Right, because Lucius is the Demonic Archon of Envy, of course," said Relma. She remembered Aunt Pan''s lessons. "Are they connected at all?"


    "Lucius and Durag are aware of one another, but they rarely converse to my knowledge," said Montazus. "Though he may well be doing so without our knowledge. Durag is effectively the reigning demon of Envy within this place. However, I do not think he has formally ascended.


    "The man is a monster, and you may prefer to have been burned on a pyre than meet with him. At least pain can teach."


    "What does it mean to ascend into demonhood?" asked Relma, letting the latter statement pass.


    "It is a black ritual that willingly transforms your soul into that of a demon," said Montazus. "Pantera went through such a spell. You raise your soul fully into hell without being consumed by it.


    "In doing so, you can take on a form of mockery of the Gods. You may create avatars that contain only a fraction of your true self. Perhaps even incarnate in new lives. Yet all of those lives will be drawn invariably toward your demonic self.


    "It is a trap of sorts.


    "And those who fall into it badly deserve the snare. Even Durag wasn''t enough of a fool enough to take it."


    "You don''t seem to like Durag," said Relma.


    "Of course, I don''t like Durag," said Montazus. "He has no time for true wisdom. And if he ever succeeds, the Sun Soul Empire intends to put the lights out."


    Relma stared at him. "Really? What''s so bad about his ideal world?"


    "Some things are worse than death," said Montazus. "Or else it would never have been made as a solution."


    "As opposed to forcing people into eternal torment?" asked Relma.


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    "I shall gladly give my soul to what you call torment. As will everyone else in the Sun Soul Empire," said Montazus simply. "I have many pains in my being from years of life, and they have brought me greater wisdom. All spirits who are fed to the sun shall likewise come to wisdom.


    "And wisdom is far preferable to pleasure.


    "Here we are."


    Relma decided she did not understand Montazus at all. There were elements of him she did, but she was not enough of a fool enough to think she knew it all. For now, she withheld judgment as they came to the gates.


    They were simple metal doors. There was no trace of rust or wear on them, and there was no adornment. In front of them, Relma saw a skeletal figure floating in the air, shrouded in what looked like a cloak of shadow. Its face was thick and had two bull horns on either side, and skeletal hands were behind its back. At the center of its bony forehead was a bright red gem.


    "Greetings to both of you," said a raspy voice. "I am Durag, and I wish to personally welcome you to my domain. It would be my utmost pleasure to give you a tour of my operations if you wish."


    Relma was not surprised at the greeting. Most undead she''d met had been very polite. She would have been more surprised to find him coarse and rough. "I''d like that.


    "However, I must communicate with those north of my contacts to prevent a war from breaking out."


    "Of course," said Durag, nodding. "Follow me, and I shall bring you to a room to facilitate your communication. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Montazus, will you accompany us?"


    "I have been recalled to the Empire," said Montazus. Word has come to me that Pantera has begun a new series of killings, and I am needed."


    "I understand," said Durag. "Follow me, Queen Relma."


    "I''m not a Queen," said Relma. "And if I ever become a monarch, I''ll be a King."


    "Hmm, why would that be?" asked Durag, opening the door.


    "Anoa the Bright thought that absolute power should have only one word," said Relma. One of his actions was insisting that there would be only one word for a given thing. He tried to rewrite the language and simplify it, but he never fully succeeded.


    "But he created a trade language that most people use when traveling. He was very insistent that the absolute monarch of Harlenor United was a king. Whether they were a girl or a boy. Though we''ve never actually had a female King."


    "Fascinating," said Durag. "A logical concept. Would Princess, then, be a preferable title?"


    "Just call me Relma," said Relma. "That name suits me best."


    "As you wish," said Durag.


    The door opened, and they walked into halls lined with metal. There were no torches, only spheres emitting light. All of them were placed at set intervals, with no decorations. Durag led her along these halls, and Relma saw that each way through the caves had a sign leading away.


    "May I ask why this place is plain," asked Relma.


    "Plain?" asked Durag. "Ah yes, the lack of ornament or decoration. I suppose it must seem odd to someone from the outside. My clan and I much prefer practical building. We adhere to a... utilitarian philosophy. We do not waste time on decorations that could be spent on tools or weapons."


    "Well, it must be far easier to clean," said Relma, looking at the floor and finding it very clear indeed. On the way, she passed a bleached white skeleton mopping it.


    "Very much so, which saves us more time," said Durag.


    Then they came to another door. Durag drew out some keys and opened them. Beyond was a room where many bleached white skeletons were doing their tasks. They seemed to be experimenting with chemicals.


    "Your servants..." said Relma, wondering where the dwarves were.


    "Yes?" asked Durag.


    "Well, I just noticed that the undead here are... well... all bleached white and bare," said Relma. "There isn''t any blood or anything on them."


    "Another practical element," said Durag. "Undead we''re using as infantry and defense forces generally die very quickly. And the blood and guts tend to scare people and help things.


    "These, however, spend their time performing tasks that require sanitation. Thus, we drain the blood and remove the flesh before reanimation."


    "Ah, and how do you do that, exactly?" asked Relma before kicking herself for asking the question.


    "A somewhat complicated ritual," said Durag. Thank Elranor, he had taken her to be asking about the spellcraft. "A large part of it is motivated the spirit within the corpse to cooperate. The plane of Envy is very helpful in this regard; many of the souls we use are drawn from hell."


    "So the undead are the spirits of the damned?" asked Relma, feeling a bit sick.


    "More specifically, those who were fed to Diabolus," said Durag. "We find they are in no position to bargain and rarely of any real sanity. So it''s a simple matter to manipulate them in exchange for a temporary escape."


    "That''s kind of you," said Relma, feeling more than a little disturbed. "I''m told you wanted to meet with Wrynncurth. Why the interest?"


    "Wrynncurth was always something of an inspiration for me," said Durag. His voice held a bit of emotion as he came to a final door. "He is, after all, one of the great necromancers of the world. I''d always wanted to meet him and compare notes. Especially with how he has a wholly different approach to the creation of undead."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Relma.


    "My associate, the cyclops Akar, brought back several of Wrynncurth''s bodies. They amaze me," said Durag. "They are the work of a true artisan compared to my own."


    "What would you call your own?" asked Relma.


    "An assembly line," said Durag. "I prefer quantity to quality, as numbers have a quality of its own. The more of something you produce, the more of the innate flaws in the design you pick out."


    "Ah, yes, may I ask something else," said Relma.


    "Of course," said Durag.


    "Why do the Conquista hate you enough that they send people out on quests to destroy you?" asked Relma.


    Durag looked up in what might have been bemusement. "Ah, that question.


    "Well, the truth of the matter is that my people in Highwatch used to be allied with the Conquista. When they first came to these lands, we fought together against the Sun Soul Empire and the Dragon Empire. During those days, the Conquista had holdings all across the mainland.


    "In my days as a mortal, I arranged for the breaking of our alliance. What they view as a breach of trust led to the loss of their territory to the Dragon Empire."


    "Why did you break the pact?" asked Relma.


    "A man has no obligation to any nation save his own," said Durag. "We stood to gain more by an alliance with the Dragon and Sun Soul Empires than we did by staying with the Conquista. So we turned on them.


    "It led to a series of defeats and the decline of their empire.


    "I gather they felt their mission of fighting their way to the Pass of Dragon Bones had nearly been complete. In any case, I have no regrets."


    "Are you still part of Highwatch, then?" asked Relma.


    "I am... associated with Highwatch," said Durag. "A tenuous alliance, more so than I''d like."


    "But you said men have an obligation to their nations?" asked Relma. "Why is it tenuous?"


    "Not everyone within High Watch understood the need for my actions," said Durag. "You have a call to make." And he opened the door.

 Chapter Fourteen: Dinner with Durag

    The chamber within that Relma saw was a circular metal one without decoration of any kind. The floor was well-cleaned and shined so you could see your own face within it, and the ceiling was low. It gave off a chilling feeling for Relma as she walked in. At the center was an unadorned altar with a box within it. It was black and made of metal, and Relma eyed it with concern.


    She had a bad feeling about this.


    "Ah, and here it is at last. This place will allow one to reach people far away from us. So long as they have a place in the Road of Ancient Stone," said Durag. "You should be able to locate Lucius easily enough."


    "Thank you," said Relma. "How do I work it?"


    "Simply place your hand into the box," said Durag. "Oh, mind you, this device can be... painful to use. And it gets worse the longer you use it. I recommend preparing yourself and then only talking for a short time."


    "How do I use it?" asked Relma.


    "Simply focus on who you wish to speak with," said Durag. "Lucius should be available. He usually is." Then he turned and walked on out, shutting the door slowly.


    Within the room, Relma could only see a little. She checked to make sure the door was not locked. "Thank you."


    Then Relma inserted her hand into the box.


    As she did, she felt a slight tickling sensation in her hand, which made her flex her hand instinctively. Focusing, she sent her will out to Lucius as quickly as she could.


    "Ah, Relma, I had hoped you''d be able to make contact, though not in this manner," said Lucius. "Are you using Durag''s magic?"


    "Yes," said Relma, feeling the tickling become pointed. She tried not to think about it.


    "Not a prisoner, I hope?" asked Lucius. "He is generally the sort to let them communicate to gain leverage."


    "No, I-" Relma felt a spark of pain and drew the hand out on reflex. Then she put it back in and felt the tickling. Lucius'' presence was there.


    "Relma," said Lucius. "Your connection broke out. He''s not forcing you to use the communications box, is he?"


    "Not forcing," said Relma. Then she drew out the hand and put it back in. "Just giving me the option." The tickling seemed to be turning to pain much faster. "I was taken captive by the Sun Soul Empire, but I convinced them to take me here. I''ve offered to try and negotiate a ceasefire to their benefit with the Dragon... Dragon Empire!"


    With a cry, Relma steadied herself and focused on controlling her pain. She let it wash through her and dulled it. She decided to try Montazus'' theory.


    "I see," said Lucius. "I would guess, then, that you want me to make contact with Queen Isriath, as well as Telix''s Brood?"


    "Yes," said Relma, her every fiber trying to force her to take her hand out. "There is information I need to give them on how things are going here." The pain was getting worse, but Relma was able to steady herself. She felt her hand blackening, and even if she knew she wasn''t being hurt, there was the reflex to draw it out.


    "Well, that doesn''t sound too unreasonable," said Lucius ruefully. "I recommend drawing up some notes before you make any official contact, however. You want to have your agenda set."


    "I''ll keep it in mind!" said Relma before drawing out her hand. She looked at her hand for a moment, making sure it wasn''t burning up. It wasn''t, of course, and she knew she could not afford to end the conversation here.


    The flesh was completely whole.


    Putting it back in was even more difficult, and she was assailed with the same agony. Her attempts to dull her pain with healing were of little use, and controlling it sent sweat down her brow.


    "I recommend cutting this conversation short; Durag''s spells are painful. Is there anything else?" asked Lucius.


    "Tell Aren not to launch any invasion!" gasped Relma, letting out a scream despite herself. She tried to focus on other things, on how this pain would be dished out to so many others if war happened. "I think I can establish a permanent peace! I have to go!"


    And she jerked it out.


    The agony took a little while to fade away, and Relma did not feel any wiser for having felt it. Though at least she had gotten the job done. Glancing back, she saw the door open and light return. Durag floated in. "...Interesting.


    "Most humans I tested the technique with were screaming in agony far sooner. You must be far stronger, somehow."


    "You''ve done this experiment before?" asked Relma.


    "Well, I do enjoy observing events," said Durag. "I''ve already tested strong-willed humans caught unawares and weak-willed humans caught unawares. The logical step would be to focus on those warned ahead of time.


    "And it is the only means to speak with Lucius, so perhaps you will forgive me."


    "I might," said Relma.


    She did not see that this kind of agony could teach any lesson, nor did she think that any cause was worth inflicting it. "This box... it simulates the feeling of burning inflicted by the Sun Spirit?"


    "Inflicted would be the wrong word," said Durag. "The Sun Spirit is more a present, with no true consciousness. The Sun Soul Empire has attributed it to the characteristics of their ideals.


    "In any case, welcome to my home. Will you dine with me?"


    Relma wanted badly to tell him to go to hell. But, at the same time, Relma knew that she couldn''t let pain distract her from what mattered. "Yes, I... I think I will."


    "Then follow me," said Durag with a bow.


    He led her into a dining hall, where two plates were being laid out. At the center was a long oaken table. The walls around it were decorated with symbols of great battles. A bookcase was on one of the far walls.


    Among them were such titles as:


    The Founding of Highwatch; the Saga of Beus Karakan.


    The First Sun Wars: the First Emperor


    The Fall of Malatrus: How the son betrayed the Sun


    "Who were Beus Karakan and Malatrus?" asked Relma.


    "The founders of Highwatch and the Sun Soul Empire, respectively. They were sworn enemies," said Durag, floating toward her. "Beus killed Malatrus by converting his firstborn, Muxil, to worship Barden. That, and trying to force a change of religion. Malatrus and Muxil killed each other, and his second-born took over.


    "Though perhaps you guessed some of that from the book titles. Though are some of my works."


    "You wrote them?" asked Relma, surprised.


    "Transcribed, actually," said Durag. "The Sun Soul Empire communicates stories orally from person to person. They do it with specially trained storytellers, and there is a device that involves strings and beads. The name escapes me.


    "But it is remarkably accurate for a system with no writing. I have taken time to learn and record as many of them as I can find here.


    "Please, sit down.


    "We can speak of Malatrus and Beus while we, well, you, eat."


    Sit down they did, and Relma was brought a number of truly delicious-looking meals. These were brought to them by living dwarves with neatly trimmed beards. They said nothing as the meals were placed on silver dishes.


    "This dining hall is beautiful," said Relma, eating and enjoying the meal very much.


    "Yes, well, here is where I receive guests usually," said Durag. "There is a rational reason for ornament in this place. You''ll find ancient dwarven designs in this place."


    "Do you use it often?" asked Relma, finding the bread unique. It had a light, fluffy texture and seemed to have many layers.


    "I don''t believe I''ve been in this room before," said Durag. "I must have had it made two or three hundred years ago, but I fear I''ve never had to use it. I do not eat, you see.


    "And when I did, I far preferred to eat alone."


    "Don''t your allies ever visit you?" asked Relma. In Harlenor, visits between allies were standard practice. If they stopped happening, it was suspicious at best.


    "They do, but the priests of the Sun Soul Empire do not dine with me," said Durag. "And, well, my homeland has never accepted my choices."


    "What choices?" asked Relma, trying the meat.


    "When I chose to begin using the Withering for my ends, Highwatch was verging on collapse," said Durag. "The Conquista of Anoa were our allies, but we increasingly relied on them. I remember that they kept changing the terms of our alliance. They were giving us one pretty word for extortion after another.


    "It was when we gave them the secret of gunpowder that I realized our alliance was unsustainable. Even if we triumphed over the Sun Soul Empire, which then was a great power, we''d be junior partners at best. Or, more likely, slaves.


    "After all, the Conquista was originally just knights and their soldiers. Their serfs are descended from those they conquered from the Sun Soul Empire. At least those among them who survived Laevian''s plagues.


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    "Where was I?"


    "Turning on the Conquista," said Relma, wondering what plague Laevian had sent in here. And how, for that matter? She''d heard rumors of such plagues coming during the Tournament of Kings. Laevian was quite merciless.


    "Ah, yes," said Durag. "At any rate, assessing my options, I staged a coup and arranged for a loyalties change.


    "The Sun Soul Empire had a great deal to gain from working with us and much to lose. With our help, we were able to weaken both the Dragon Empire and the Conquista.


    "And once I had contact with the Sun Soul Empire, I was able to find those who did not enjoy serving them. Leaving Highwatch, I set up my kingdom in this domain, alongside my followers. At first, we were small but over time, were able to gain the villagers'' loyalty here.


    "The rest, as they say, is history."


    "I''m not very familiar with your history," said Relma, deciding on the truth.


    "Ah yes, of course," said Durag. "Well, Highwatch needs me to maintain a buffer state between them and the Sun Soul Empire. The Conquista needs me to serve as a scapegoat. I save them from the natural consequences of their imperialist agenda. The Sun Soul Empire needs me to keep its borders intact. And, of course, the Dragon Empire needs me to keep Bryag from coming home."


    "What do you mean by that?" asked Relma, eating some delicious spiced meat. Though she had her suspicions, Vanessa might benefit from not having Bryag able to move in and take revenge.


    "You don''t imagine that Bryag would be content to sit all day idly if there were not some grave threat to his people?" asked Durag, confirming her suspicions. "As long as I send the undead across that bridge, he has something to occupy his time with. That being putting the mutilated souls of the damned out of their misery.


    "As long as he is otherwise occupied, Bryag will never try to kill those who take advantage of him. If ever he did decide to, I imagine he''d be able to kill a great many of them before they took him down. Even if they would never admit it.


    "So, I more or less perform an integral service to every single major faction, and they hate me for it."


    "I don''t see why the Conquista needs you," admitted Relma. "In fact, they said they wanted me to kill you."


    "Oh yes, they are the spanner in the works if you''ll forgive the unworldly expression," said Durag.


    "What does it mean?" asked Relma. She tried some of the rice, spiced a yellow color with many vegetables.


    "Well, on certain worlds, far from this one, there are machines," said Durag. "Very sophisticated machines meant to manufacture various devices. One surefire means of sabotaging them is to put a tool called a spanner on the conveyor belt.


    "The machine tries to work with the device, but it can''t bend or change the metal. So all the equipment gets broken, and someone has to be called in to repair it. I''m told that it''s a common means of sabotage.


    "The practice has been compared to how a single bold hero tends to derail even the best-laid plans. Often without even realizing they are doing it.


    "Which brings us neatly to the Conquista. You see, they would actually be far worse off if I died.


    "Without me, the Dragon Empire would be able to devastate the Sun Soul Empire quite easily. With that done, they''d naturally focus their full attention on the Conquista.


    "The problem is that I''m afraid the Conquista don''t particularly care.


    "They''d been trying to fulfill their mission of bringing horses to King Anoa for a very long time now. And I''m fairly certain they are willing to destroy themselves if it means achieving that goal.


    "Few things indeed are more dangerous to a well-ordered scheme than a man of principle. How are you enjoying the food?"


    "This meal is excellent," said Relma, having never tasted anything better. "Though the second course is far... denser than the first."


    "The first was a kind of bread made by elves, meant to be light. The second curse is Dwarven cuisine, meant to have strength of flavor," said Durag. "I fear I can''t eat anymore. But I keep cooks on hand to feed my mortal subordinates. Now, perhaps you could tell me some news of what things are like to the north of here?"


    "That seems only fair," said Relma.


    And so Durag began to ask questions in turn of Relma about how things had been going. He seemed interested in the reasons for the Escorian Civil War. And he often asked questions about the rulers. Relma found she could answer plenty of questions about Escor and Antion. But she knew very little about Haldren other than that House Gabriel was based there.


    Under his queries, Relma was faced with many things she didn''t know. Several times, she had to take a swig of the ale provided. It was the strongest stuff she''d ever had, and she quickly had to stop.


    "Do you enjoy the ale?" asked Durag.


    "I admit, I um, I''ve never had this much ale before," said Relma, inhibitions dropping. "My Aunt Pan generally doesn''t like me drinking this much."


    "Yes, well, ale has always been the favored drink of dwarves in these parts," said Durag. "We''ve cut this with water, of course, too much would harm you. I''ve actually discovered exactly how much alcohol someone of your weight can drink. Not accounting for magical healing, of course."


    "How did you do that?" asked Relma, curious. It seemed the kind of question that would be difficult to find the answer to.


    "Well, I am called a Scientist King for a reason," said Durag. "Most of my experiments might seem very petty and pointless. Yet they provide very real information that can be very useful.


    "For instance, do you know how long a man can go without starving?"


    "No," said Relma, not liking the question.


    "I do," said Durag. "I''ve taken precise notes on the subject of all kinds of body types and such. And it has been very helpful during famines in my villages.


    "I can allocate rations to my people so as to ensure as many as possible survive. If I didn''t have that information, many more would have died in a famine ten years ago. With it, I was able to ensure the best possible outcome.


    "Now tell me of these plans you have? I''d be very interested in hearing."


    "That''s a bit of a complicated thing, and I''d have to coordinate with everyone to do them," said Relma. "However, my hope is that we''ll be able to set up some kind of long-term truce. There is a powerful alliance forming to the North in Escor, with many powerful figures within it. Fairies, werewolves, the kingdom of Escor, and many more."


    "Are you the head of this alliance?" asked Durag.


    "Well, not technically, but I did put a lot of it together," said Relma. "If we can set up communication between you, the Sun Soul Empire, and Escor, we could force the Dragon Empire to terms."


    "Are you not working for them?" asked Durag.


    "I''m not working for anyone," said Relma quickly. "Not even myself. I want to set up a dialogue between all the great powers. Once that happens, I want there to be a council of powers who can work out their differences peacefully.


    "And if a war does break out, we can use the council to negotiate an end."


    "A council presided over by you?" guessed Durag. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Relma reflected that the way things were going, it would be her. She was rapidly becoming the only unifying element. "Well, I don''t actually want to hold the position. But, as the Heir of Kings and the person putting this together, if I were asked to take the position, I could hardly say no."


    "So you mean you," said Durag again in amusement.


    "Yes, I suppose I do," said Relma. "If there were someone better for the position, though, I''d hand control over to them." Or she hoped she would. "May I ask you something, Lord Durag?"


    "Please, just Durag, titles have no place among the enlightened," said Durag. "They are meant to impress peasants and weak-minded younger sons. To those of greater reason, they are but meaningless formalities.


    "And you may."


    "Why are you so interested in meeting Wrynncurth?" asked Relma. "I mean, you sent an army after us."


    "Ah yes, that," said Durag. "Well, Akar has always been a zealous supporter, if not a bright one. I had hoped to invite you; however, your meeting with the Dragon Queen shifted things a touch. You became an enemy agent. In addition, well, until recently, the Sun Soul Empire wanted you for fuel.


    "The usual sort of cutthroat politics. Though I must thank you for killing so many undead in the process, it has taken a great deal of strain off my mind."


    Relma made a not to ask about that last comment later. "But did you think Wrynncurth would not respond? He''d likely be upset."


    "My dear girl, I hope you will come to learn that one person''s good cannot be another," said Durag. "Even men who are enjoying the same experience are enjoying two separate experiences. After all, experiences are a result of who we are, and no two people are wholly alike."


    Relma paused. "...I don''t understand your answer."


    "Well, that''s a brave thing to admit," said Durag. "How do I put this? We, as people, exist wholly independent of the others. Even though we are sitting in the same room, how do we know the other exists? How do we even know the room exists? Perhaps all the world is a vast illusion to deceive our senses?"


    "Well, it doesn''t matter, does it?" asked Relma. "If we see other people, we''ve got an obligation to treat them with respect. Even if we aren''t sure, they exist. Even if the universe around you is fake, you have the same moral obligations to it."


    "Hmm, but what is the purpose of good deeds?" asked Durag. "What meaning do they possess?


    "It is, perhaps, true that certain deeds can make a person happier, while others may cause stress or guilt. And many less advanced intellects believe that because of this, those things are evil or good.


    "But what are evil and good? How can you define them?"


    "They are what you ought to do and what you ought not to do," said Relma, fairly certain in her answer.


    "And why ought you do them or not? Who made these rules?" asked Durag.


    "The gods, I imagine," said Relma, now less certain.


    "But the gods do not fully embrace they''re own rules and often disagree, do they not?" asked Durag.


    Relma remembered her studies under Benarus and some of the theories he had provided her. Writings by the Church of Elranor. "...I read in Gel Carn a theory that there is a greater, ultimate God beyond the Soul Event Horizon. One who is completely good and all-powerful."


    "But there you are saying it again, aren''t you?" asked Durag. "According to you, God is completely good. But for him to be good, good must be a thing that exists independently of him. And if it exists independent of him, he cannot be all-powerful.


    "And if good is defined by him, then good is merely his personal preference. An arbitrary preference at that, since no conditions exist independent of his will. What if he were to declare that lying, murder, and rape were good deeds tomorrow."


    "I imagine he wouldn''t," said Relma.


    "But what if he did?" asked Durag.


    Relma considered her answer. The possibility of God, if he existed, forcing the races to uphold one set of rules. All only to upend them disturbed her. It was then she realized that such a thing was a deception. "Then he''d be a liar and therefore not all-good or all-powerful. And if he could make those things good, then he could just as easily rewrite all of reality to fit the new rules."


    "But, if he defines what good and evil are, he could change the rules within the context of his own subcreation?" asked Durag. "And he could still make it good."


    Relma paused. "...You''re assuming that he intended everything to be as is. But the fact that we are serving lesser gods indicates it isn''t. Perhaps he lets us determine our own reality. Then sets in place rules appropriate to the reality we create.


    "In which case, he has created laws of morality appropriate to each world. In a world where rape, murder, and lying were beneficial, they may be considered good with none of the ill effects. But if so, it would have been defined for our benefit, not for his own."


    "And what would the goal of such rules be, if good and evil are a means to an end?" asked Durag.


    "To prevent people from regressing into beasts. That and ensuring we continue to grow closer to perfection," said Relma, a bit too quick for her own liking.


    Durag, who had begun to lean forward across the table, sat back in her chair. "There, you have my answer."


    Relma tried to work out what he meant by that. The conversation had changed a lot, and she was having trouble keeping track of it. "What answer, what are you talking about?"


    "Power is the only goal that anyone really seeks," said Durag, clasping his hands and leaning back. "Whether it is power through money, power through weapons, or power through sorcery. Perhaps even power through friendship. Powerful men understand this, for they must in order to stay that way. And Wrynncurth is a very powerful man."


    "What about the ultimate deity?" asked Relma.


    "He too is seeking to increase his power," said Durag. "After all, if one is all-powerful, the universe itself is but a figment of his thoughts. So how can he exact his will? Power is defined by your ability to defeat obstacles. And nothing is, by definition, an obstacle to him.


    "That is why he allows creatures to grow in power independent of itself. God does not desire subjects, but a rival against whom he can strive."


    Relma found a sense of awareness growing on her mind. "Would that be you?"


    Durag probably would have smiled if he had lips. He managed to exude an aura of smugness without them. "Well, everyone needs a longterm dream, I suppose.


    "Would you care for a tour of my experiments?"


    Relma wasn''t sure she wanted to know. But she did know that she needed to know. She guessed that knowing unpleasant truths was the cost of the ruling. "I would like that very much."

 Chapter Fifteen: The Realm of the Dead

    The tour began.


    Durag led Relma out of the dining hall while things were cleared away. They walked now through a tunnel of smoothed rock. On the walls here, Relma saw some actual designs. They showed many dwarves marching with spears and square shields. Their helms and armor had a death motif, much like William bore in his. As they walked, they came to two statues before them on either side of gray. One was of a beautiful maiden in flowing garb, standing with a hand upraised. The other, on the right, was kneeling in prayer. Her face was solemn, and a sword was in her hands.


    Relma thought they were very beautiful, particularly liking the one on the left. It seemed somehow majestic and nice.


    "These statues are beautiful," said Relma.


    "Yes, we don''t usually make statues, to be honest," said Durag. "They take a great deal of effort and are not a practical form of decoration. These, however, were forged recently.


    "However, the details seemed worthwhile."


    "Who are these angels of?" asked Relma, moving in to get a closer look.


    "The Angel of Virtue, Rasoria on the left," said Durag. "And the Angel of Ways, Gabora, on the right."


    "I am Rasoria," mused Relma. "But who is Gabora?" Why did she like her own statue so much? What did that say about her? But then, she hadn''t known it was supposed to be her and it might not even look like her.


    "A being who serves Barden," said Durag. "Mostly specializing in connecting different faraway places and bring about greater civilization."


    They walked between the angels and came to an area where a pit was being filled with a gray material by dwarves. As Durag approached, one of the dwarves saluted but said nothing.


    "What is this?" asked Relma.


    "Don''t step too near," said Durag. "We are experimenting with a new form of building material. A chemical mixture, which, when combined, turns from liquid into stone. We call it cement.


    "You mix together a paste with certain rocks and then pour it into a mold."


    "Then those statues weren''t carved?" asked Relma.


    "No, however, the molds took a truly painstaking amount of work to set up," said Durag. "It was why I made them in the first place. I wanted to see what I could make.


    "Tell me, have you seen the guns of the Conquista?"


    "Yes," said Relma.


    "Yes, well, guns are a very useful invention. However, they have some critical weaknesses," said Durag and he led her over to a series of targets. A row of guns was laid out on racks. "For one thing, they create a massive amount of noise and smoke and are dangerous to the wielder. In bad weather, they are almost useless. And, last, of all, they are worthless against spiritual entities.


    "Demons, spirits, and the divine are more or less immune to guns. All these things mean they are only useful against mortals. And lightly armored mortals at that. Even so, they have certain benefits."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Relma. This information seemed like the sort of thing she might need to know. Perhaps she could use these guns for her own purposes when she became King? S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "A somewhat complicated explanation," said Durag. "Demons, spirits, and angels are not harmed by physical objects. It is what is put into those physical objects that kill them. A weapon that was painstakingly crafted by a master will be far more effective. And when wielded by someone who trained for years in its use will be even more so."


    "Guns, however, require virtually no training to use properly." He took a gun and aimed it downrange. "You merely point-


    "And fire." He pulled the trigger, and there was a noise like thunder, as smug filled the air. Relma looked and saw he''d missed the target completely. It seemed to chip off a chunk of the wall, though. Durag let out what might have been a sigh and Relma didn''t feel comfortable saying anything. "Unfortunately, it doesn''t take as much effort to learn to use one. Advantageous for a militia, but the less time spent working on something, the less it means to you. They are also inaccurate and impersonal.


    "When you are up close and fighting a demon hand to hand, it is a very personal matter. Shooting at them with a bow is less so. It takes a trained archer to piece a demon''s armor.


    "Guns take neither extensive training nor immense discipline, and they are impersonal.


    "As such, well, perhaps we should demonstrate," He snatched up another gun and showed it to Relma. "Aim this gun straight at me and fire."


    "I''m sorry, what," said Relma, taking the gun and checking the trigger.


    "Shoot me," said Durag. "You needn''t worry; I have no vital organs. Just aim and fire."


    "I uh... well, to be honest, I wouldn''t feel comfortable," said Relma. She remembered the Tournament of Kings, when Estela had fired an arrow into her by accident. Thatw as not something she wanted to repeat. "A friend of mine accidentally shot me in this sort of situation."


    "Oh very well, you, take this and fire," said Durag, and a dwarf took the gun.


    "Me?" said the dwarf. "But Master Durag-"


    "Do so, that''s an order," said Durag.


    The dwarf nodded. "Yes, master Durag."


    The dwarf pulled the trigger, and the gun went off again. It was directly against Durag''s breast. Yes, there was no discernable difference. "You see? Not a hole in me. There''s nothing inherently personal about shooting a gun. It takes very little training to do properly. And there is nothing special about the weapon itself.


    "Now, let''s see what happens when we fire this same device at that suit of armor." He pointed some ways off to where a suit of armor stood. "You, get a trained marksman to shoot it, will you."


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    The dwarf nodded and hurried off. A little time later, another dwarf came with a rifle. He filled the weapon with powder from a horn, then cocked it and fired. Once again, there was a bang and the armor visibly dented. No sword could have done that.


    "Very useful," said Durag. "A few shots like that would kill a man from the impact.


    "I think that guns are going to become the way of the future, at least so far to doing battle with mortals. In fact, I would like for you to take a full set of these weapons back to Harlenor if you don''t mind."


    "I''d prefer to finish my tour and talk with my allies before I accept any gifts," said Relma.


    "Of course," said Durag, nodding with what might have been approved. "A wise choice, for one of your age."


    Relma looked down a passage and had a foreboding feeling from it. "What is over there?"


    "That is the human experiments section, of course," said Durag.


    "Human experiments?" asked Relma.


    "Yes, in order to better understand how to cure the body, one must have subjects to take apart," said Durag.


    Relma felt a twinge of horror. "People, who are still alive?"


    "A necessary sacrifice," said Durag. "You need not fear; every one of them has committed one grievous crime or another. All of them warrant their suffering. Think of this place as a sort of... purgatory in the living world.


    "Follow me."


    This had just gotten very bleak.


    The first thing Durag showed her was a corpse. It was desiccated, thin, and had been mummified and put on display. Relma shuddered as she looked at him and wondered his name.


    It looked like he had been starved to death.


    "This man was a bandit before he came to us," said Durag. "He murdered men, women, and children alongside his band. We observed his atrocities through the eyes of the dead and eventually had a need for one of his age and size. Eventually, he burned an entire field of crops, and the farmer and his family starved to death. He gained nothing by the action, it was done out of spite.


    "Our experiment was fairly simple.


    "We wanted to see the minimum diet that a human of his size and weight could survive on. To this end, we put him on a steadily decreasing diet of various kinds and observed his body''s effects. We also provided him with different levels of movement. They ranged from total immobility to free reign."


    "What happened to him?" asked Relma, feeling sick.


    "When we had exhausted all other experiments, we locked him within this cell. From there, we observed him deteriorate without food," said Durag. "Eventually, he died."


    Relma could not contain herself any longer. "That''s horrible! How could you do something like that?!"


    "The knowledge is valuable. And it is no more than he deserves," said Durag. And he walked on, bringing her to another corpse, this one female. "This woman had a similar story, she was a member of the same gang. However, we observed that she gaze a crust of bread to a beggar alongside the occasional charity. As such, we provided her with food when she was on the brink of starvation.


    "From this, we learned that when one is near death from lack of food, to suddenly be given a large meal is to die. A perplexing result that you would not expect, but it was helpful. Now, when providing food aid to those who are starving, we know to use easily digestible."


    "Durag, this is..." Relma looked for the words. "This is sick. Even if they are doing awful things, performing this kind of atrocity on them..." How could she say it without offending him.


    "I prefer to think of it as a form of redemption," said Durag. "These people willingly chose to murder and steal, and many other, less savory crimes. All of them did them many times. And in so doing, they have damned many innocent people to the same fate. We make it very clear why they suffer from them.


    "Now, they experience the effects of their actions and provide a service to life.


    "I expect they shall learn from their errors in their next life.


    "Of course, we''ve found certain dead ends in our research, people who are never guilty."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma, not wanting to know, but needing to.


    "Infants, of course," said Durag. "Children are, by nature, innocent and cannot be held responsible for their actions. It would not be possible to pass judgment. And I prefer not to hurt innocents if it can be avoided.


    "Fortunately, I''ve come up with a possible means to dodge the issue."


    This was ominous; Relma needed to know more. "What do you mean?"


    "I''ve devised a means by which I will be able to track the soul of horrific criminals after they die," said Durag. "Then, once they reincarnate, I may use them for experimentation without fear of-"


    "Don''t do it!" said Relma in sudden horror.


    "Hmm?" said Durag, with the appearance of one who hears this kind of thing often.


    "Listen, what you are doing here... whether it is wrong or right, it will look awful when it comes out," said Relma. Durag was not going to respond to an appeal to his conscience. "And it will come out eventually. If... you want this alliance to work out...


    "You need to focus on more humane experiments.


    "I realize you have good intentions, but not everyone will understand. The Conquista outright wants you dead. And if word spreads of... that kind of thing it could turn my allies against you." Not that what she''d seen already wouldn''t already do that.


    Durag paused and seemed to consider it. "Hmm, well, I suppose we had exhausted the possibilities with this area of expertise.


    "Would you be interested in live vivisection?"


    "You cut people open?" asked Relma.


    "Don''t be absurd, that would be inhumane," said Durag. "We reanimate the corpses after poisoning them to death. The unholy magics simulate blood movement quite well, so long as the experiment is done fast. ''Live'' is a somewhat outdated term.


    "One due for changing, I suppose."


    Relma sighed as she realized she''d have to learn more. You could not understand something if you didn''t look at unpleasant truths. "...I''m really starting to hate playing peacemaker."


    "I''m certain we all feel that way sometimes," said Durag.


    Obviously, he missed the point.


    If hell existed in the real world, it was ruled by Durag.


    Relma saw horrors she''d never heard of before. Innumerable experiments, all with one practical purpose in mind. None were live, fortunately. If Relma had found them being actively tortured, she''d have to try and rescue them. That could ruin all her plans. But Durag always had some way in which the information gathered helped him. All of the victims had been villains of their own kind, and the worse the torment put to them, the worse they were.


    Durag had chronicled their lives. From the experiments to their reactions and all that came from it. All were bound up in leather books meticulously. And his voice remained level and calm, and Relma tried not to burst into tears. What made it all the worse was the fact that Durag seemed to notice and suggest they retire.


    Relma, however, refused to.


    "I am certain we can return to this another day if you so wish," said Durag.


    Relma wished she could. But even if she did not know about what happened, it would still be happening. And to know the atrocities that happened here was necessary.


    "I need to see the rest," said Relma. "Ignoring what happened here would be worse than knowing it."


    "Your resolve to gain knowledge is admirable," said Durag.


    Here was a devil of a different kind.


    But not a devil of sin, but of simple utility. If Durag ruled hell, it would be a place of coldblooded torture, not done for malice, but for knowledge. Perhaps some useful knowledge had been gained yet...


    Was it right that good should come out of this?


    Relma did not know. Nor did she know if she should destroy Durag. But she was looking forward to when Wrynncurth finally arrived.


    She had to get out of here.

 Chapter Sixteen: Plots within Plots

    Relma awoke that morning with a profound feeling of dread.


    Her days in the domain of Durag had been long and informative. Though they focused on more humane experiments, the dread did not leave her. Even if Relma was looking at experiments conducted humanely, she knew they were there. Relma tried to see more of them but found it began to affect her mood and had to pace herself.


    And so she dressed without the simple, but the pleasant room she''d been given. She combed her hair and washed as best she could as well, having to undress again to do it. The room had furniture made of metal instead of wood, but it was all well made and comfortable. Brushing her hair, Relma looked at herself in the mirror. "Another day.


    "Another tour. You have to stay with it, Relma. You need to understand what is happening here if you want to win. And if you don''t win, everything will get worse.


    "Unless...


    "Is there something else I could do?"


    Relma had spent her time researching as well, Durag had very extensive records. She soon began to put together the beginnings of a plan. And as she met Durag for breakfast, she decided to put it into action.


    "Ah, Relma," said Durag, coming in as she ate. "How are you enjoying breakfast?"


    "Very much," said Relma, enthusiastic at the idea of not seeing any horrors. Physical pain was nothing to knowing it was happening to other people. "This food is excellent."


    "I thought you might want to know," said Durag. "Your ally, Pantera, is under attack by the Sun Soul Empire. Their warriors have been massing to press into her jungles. It might be wise to take some action against it.


    "If you wish to communicate with another, I would be happy to supply you with the means."


    That was...


    An odd coincidence. But it did fit perfectly with what she had planned, and Relma came up with the idea at once. Nodding, she finished her breakfast. "I will thank you."


    Making her way to the communications room, Relma entered it.


    Mentally preparing herself for what was to come, Relma put her hand into the box. The tickles began, followed by pain as she focused. But Relma had gotten better at controlling it now and was able to stave it off.


    "Pantera..." called Relma.


    Then she felt Pantera''s presence as a ghostly figure appeared before her. The catwoman was lounging upon a tree branch and holding a bloodied human skull almost. "Relma, you are using Durag''s means of communication? Brave of you, isn''t it?"


    "Yes, I know," said Relma, cutting to the chase. "Durag tells me that you are under attack. Is that true?"


    "Not yet, but they''ve been gathering troops for a full invasion," said Pantera. "I think I may have some problems. I may even lose this body, and so many of my dear pets if things go on.


    "Though I''ll devour many of them..." She sounded... well, happy about the thought.


    "What if I could help you?" asked Relma.


    Pantera crushed the skull between her upheld paws and tossed the fragments away. Everyone in this land was a bloodthirsty lunatic, weren''t they? Relma supposed she''d just have to manage.


    "How do you intend to do that, Relma?" asked Pantera, purring as she leaned back.


    "I have a plan that might be able to save your holdings in that region," said Relma. "And through it, bring peace as a whole. How would you feel about swearing fealty to Queen Vanessa?"


    "Hmm?" asked Pantera. "Why would I want to give up my freedom?"


    "Because it will give Queen Vanessa a pretense to threaten an invasion. It will also give you greater security," said Relma. "Once you swear loyalty to her, if the Conquista or Sun Soul Empire or anyone else attacks, she can come to your aid. She will see it as an opportunity to expand her power, I hope."


    "Yes, that is part of the problem," said Pantera ruefully, licking bloodstained fur. "Queen Vanessa will want to put a Dragon Lord over my domains."


    "Then ask that you be made a Lord instead, with all the rights and privileges of a Dragon Lord," said Relma.


    "I am not a dragon, though," mused Pantera.


    "What does it matter if both of you benefit from the arrangement?" asked Relma.


    Pantera nodded. "Perhaps, but then how will that help you? I doubt very much you are doing this out of the goodness of your heart."


    "Because the war will never happen," said Relma, deciding to be honest. "I just need Vanessa to have enough power to spark others to be willing to make an alliance against her. If Vanessa puts pressure on the Sun Soul Empire to halt, then it will create a temporary stalemate.


    "I can use that to create real peace."


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    "How?" asked Pantera.


    "I have several different leads, but I''ll just have to rely on my greater self for some of it. Have some faith," said Relma, who did not want to explain her plan. Pantera might reveal it.


    "No," said Pantera. "Faith is not something I enjoy. It ruins the taste of my favorite meals.


    "But, I suppose I don''t have much more in the way of options. What of Ajax?"


    "Where is he now?" asked Relma, wondering why she brought it up.


    "Oh, we''ve been talking over sending the wolves to fight the Sun Soul Empire," said Pantera. "Though not this body."


    "I''ll talk to him," said Relma, before feeling the pain become nearly unbearable. She drew the hand out on reflex. "Ah!"


    Her hand was red. After a moment, Relma put the hand back in. Ajax appeared before her soon, stooping over some tracks. "Relma, is that you?" he asked.


    "Ajax," said Relma. "I don''t have very long to talk.


    "I need you to go to King Tyus. Tell him that the Dragon Empire is on the verge of starting an invasion of the region to the south. Tell him that if he plays his cards right, he will be able to mediate an end to the dispute.


    "To his own benefit."


    "What makes you think he won''t just invade?" asked Ajax. "And how do you know this?"


    "I think I''m setting it up," said Relma. "But Tyus is smart and cautious enough to not want to invade anywhere if he can get power another way. If this pans out, we''ll be able to have lasting peace on the southern border of Escor.


    "If that happens, he''ll be able to focus on other concerns.


    "I also need to carry messages between King Tyus and King Gormath and recommend and alliance. I want the Harlenorian Kingdoms to reestablish ties. And that has to happen no matter what happens in the coming days."


    "Fine, fine," said Ajax. "Are you alright? Your voice is pained."


    "I know," said Relma. "It''ll stop when I cut the message. Any questions?"


    "No," said Ajax. "Though whatever your plan is, it''s very complicated."


    Relma cut the channel. As she did, Relma reflected that the plan she had in motion was not really one plan. It was more like a series of independent gambits. If successful, each one played into an overall strategy. But none of them relied on the completion of the others to succeed.


    And then, suddenly, the box began to gleam. Putting her hand back in, Relma saw Pantera appear before her. "Tell me something, Relma... Relma, how do you think King Tyus would react if I became his daughter?"


    Relma got a shudder as she realized what Pantera was asking. Estela was a very real risk now. She knew at once that action had to be taken. "He''d murder you in cold blood. And we''d become very serious enemies.


    "Don''t test me, Pantera. I don''t like bloodshed, but you should beware of the anger of the gentle. Once roused, it does not abate." S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Pantera sighed. "Such a pity," said Pantera. "And she had such fair skin..."


    "We have more important things to worry about," said Relma. "Good day, Queen Pantera."


    "Of course," said the woman.


    Relma cut the channel. She wondered how exactly it was that communication was established. She suspected that it opened connections between spirits. In that case, they might have been two-way.


    She decided not to use this device again unless she had to.


    Turning, she walked out the door and found Durag waiting. Relma had been expecting him to be eavesdropping, of course. He''d be a fool not to. But his status as a party who was wholly alienated from all involved meant he might not alert his allies at once. Even if he did, Relma could probably make this work.


    "...Well, how do you plan to make this work, Relma? King Tyus alone will not be enough to threaten Vanessa into submission," said Durag. "The Dragons will fight to the bitter end rather than submit to a mortal."


    "Which is why we need an immortal to head the operation," said Relma. "A means to replace Vanessa if she chooses to continue threatening other factions."


    "On your suggestion," mused Durag.


    "It is a good way to avoid war in the short-term and helps my plans in the long term," said Relma. "That will benefit everyone.


    "If this works, war will be averted."


    "For how long, I wonder?" asked Durag.


    Relma calculated how long the peace would last based on past experience. From her reading of history and what she''d seen, Erian was a neverending war. Truces were lucky to last a decade. Even then, they only did so because of wars going on near other borders. "A few months, probably.


    "We''ll have a lot of problems soon after signing the treaty, and we''ll have to work to fix those. But if we do a good enough job of working things out, the peace might last a few years. Then it''ll get easier, since peace is the norm, and we''ll just have to smooth out the rough patches."


    "Until war breaks out again," mused Durag. "No peace can be maintained forever."


    "Of course, it won''t last forever," said Relma. "But if I can save lives now, make things a little better now in whatever way I can, it could inspire others.


    "Heroism isn''t about fixing all the problems in the world. It''s about fixing the problems of today."


    "By putting Vanessa into a position where you can threaten to have her replaced?" asked Durag.


    Relma sighed. "Vanessa is a vicious tyrant, Durag.


    "She''s allowed her nation to grow complacent in its brutality. At this rate, it''ll collapse in a hundred years anyway. Either the people she rules will overthrow her, or she won''t have a people left to rule. I''m just forcing them out of complacency by giving her some competition.


    "It''s for their own good, really."


    "You mean Bryag?" asked Durag.


    Relma sighed. "Why not?


    "He''s the closest thing to a god people have in this place. I know they nominally worship Vrengar, but I''ve yet to see anyone pray to him. Bryag is popular; he hasn''t committed very many atrocities. And he performs real service for the people. Moreover, the dragons are terrified of him, even if they would never admit it."


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Durag.


    "Evren spoke at length about how Bryag is of no threat," said Relma. "If he really believed Bryag was no threat, he''d have dismissed him as such out of hand. Instead, he''s gone out of his way to set up countermeasures. He made an alliance of Red Dragons to kill Bryag if he turns against them.


    "All I need to do is give Bryag genuine backing. Enough to tip things in his favor."


    "And what if Bryag refuses to cooperate?" asked Durag.


    "Well, then I''ll have to improvise," said Relma. "I may be able to sway Vanessa with the people who have already signed, using Pantera''s allegiance as a gift of sorts. The Conquista has a tenuous alliance at best, and could be brought to side with King Tyus."


    Durag paused. "If that''s the case, why would you threaten them at all?"


    Relma shrugged. "Because the Red Dragons are terrible people. And I think having them be afraid of their victims might curb their excesses.


    "Fear can motivate where conscience fails."


    Durag roared with laughter, and it was the most terrifying thing Relma had ever heard.

 Chapter Seventeen: Meetings

    Adrian Wrynncurth arrived a week later.


    Relma stood atop a plateau looking out over a hilltop to where the Black Dragon was swooping toward them. She could see Estela upon him, and also Jomas on what appeared to be another golem.


    Raising a hand in relief, Relma waved. "Wrynncurth! Wrynncurth over here!"


    Wrynncurth landed before them. "Relma, jolly nice to see you, old girl."


    "Relma, are you alright? Did they hurt you?" asked Estela, dismounting quickly.


    Relma thought she ought to ask Estela''s same thing, but she didn''t have cat ears or paws, so that was a good sign. "No, but I think I''ve been able to enlist Durag as an ally."


    "What?" asked Estela. "How, I mean-


    "Explain now."


    "It''s a bit complicated, but I think that we can use Durag to set up a dialogue between the factions," said Relma. "We can play them against one another to pressure them into peace."


    "What about the Dragonfire Shield?" asked Estela.


    "The what?" asked Relma.


    "The Dragonfire Shield," said Estela. "The thing we came all the way out here to steal! The artifact you wanted to get for Vanessa!"


    "Oh, right, that," said Relma.


    "Yes, don''t tell me you forgot!" said Estela.


    Relma thought about the Dragonfire Shield and what it represented. Finally, she shrugged. "Eh, Vanessa was probably just trying to get us out of the way anyway. Maybe we could hand it over as an act of goodwill if we get it.


    "We don''t need it."


    "What do you mean you don''t need it?" asked Estela. "Vanessa won''t even consider our requests without getting it. And the Conquista wants you to kill Durag to get it.


    "How is allying with Durag a supplement?"


    "Vanessa only gave us that quest because she thought it would be impossible," said Relma with a shrug. "Even if we completed it, she''d probably just lead us on a wild goose chase. I''ve actually got a much better idea to deal with the problem while bringing pressure on her.


    "Did Ajax contact with you?"


    "He said you sent him with a message," said Estela. "I sent a message to Father with it, and also got Gormath to send one to him as well. I vouched for the Conquista and also gave Father a report on their weaponry.


    "I think that horses have real possibilities in the Calishan Wars."


    "Well, that''s a long way off," said Relma. "Do you think King Tyus will be willing to not invade?"


    "Probably, yes," said Estela. "Father isn''t the kind to make stupid risks. Still, he wants revenge for Otto."


    "Right, well, in any case, I have a plan to fix that," said Relma. "Wrynncurth, I want to get a meeting with Prince Bryag of the Dragon Empire." Then Relma paused and looked to the entrance. "But first, Wrynncurth, could you come inside? Durag has been very interested in meeting with you for a great many centuries."


    "Oh, is he?" asked Wrynncurth.


    "Relma, stop, what is going on here?" asked Estela.


    "I''m trying to set up a peaceful solution to these problems," said Relma. "Wrynncurth, Durag has some very... well, questionable experiments. I was hoping you could look at them and, perhaps, convince him to change them."


    "Well, these experiments seem interesting," said Wrynncurth. "Very well, no harm in having a chat on the subject."


    "Peaceful solution..." said Estela, looking around. "We''re fighting a legion of undead commanded by a lich of unfathomable evil. And he''s supported by a warrior culture who burns the souls of those they capture on eternal flame! I don''t want a peaceful solution!"


    "We should just smash them all," said Jomas, speaking for the first time.


    "Alright, that might be valid," said Relma, not finding it easy to disagree with anything she said. "But the Dragon Empire isn''t really that much better, and they''re the main threat. If we can get the groups into a dialogue, we might be able to get them to stop doing bad things without violence.


    "And if I''m wrong...


    "We can just make an alliance against whichever faction is the absolute worst." Then Relma turned and walked to the door. "Come on."


    "You are a jolly pragmatic negotiator. Especially for one pretending to be innocent," said Wryncurth.


    "Hey, I''m not going to claim success until I''ve succeeded," said Relma. "I just want to see if we can fix all this without violence. But I''m waiting for the moment that all of this goes to hell."


    Relma led her friends through the halls she''d been living in. She was careful to avoid the experimental rooms. Finally, she came to Durag''s throneroom. The lich was sitting upon it, hands clasped together and looking down. His eyes were dull with thought and looked up suddenly as they entered.


    Standing suddenly, he moved down toward them. "Ah, Adrian Wrynncurth, may I say that I have wished to speak with you for virtually my entire life."


    "Durag, I presume?" asked Wrynncurth.


    "Yes, you were a great inspiration to me," said Durag.


    "Well, jolly good to be of service," said Wrynncurth, smiling slightly. "I wish your invitation has been somewhat less aggressive."


    "Yes, well, fortunes of war and all that," said Durag. "Your association with the Dragon Queen meant the Sun Soul Empire was going to move against you. Making a condition of meeting you assured your safety.


    "I''m hoping to move past that."


    "Well, moving past something is all a matter of terrain and how well you want to work at it," mused Wrynncurth. "You''ve got some very remarkable necromantic weavings there."


    "Oh yes, I''ve been working to improve them for some time," said Durag, looking at his arms. "The Hellfire Jewel shard I have has been of some help in this regard."


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    "He has a shard of the Hellfire Jewel?" asked Estela suddenly.


    "It''s not a problem, I assure you," said Durag. "I explained it to Relma some time ago. Diabolus is a dangerous entity, but can be predicted if you understand him. And once you can predict something you can control it.


    "He''s trying to play on my pride at the achievement right now."


    "Why didn''t you tell us this?" asked Jomas.


    "I thought it was obvious," said Relma. "How else could he be opening portals to hell so regularly?"


    "A touch simplistic, wouldn''t you say?" asked Wrynncurth, ignoring the subject. "Solid, but no style."


    "A matter of approach, I fear," said Durag. "My policy has always been to be practical and pragmatic. This body is more tool than art if you will."


    "Yes, well, I prefer my status as an artist," said Wrynncurth, motioning to his golem that came forward. "Perhaps I might offer this specimen to you as a gift. Perhaps we can compare certain techniques."


    "It is much appreciated," said Durag. "Hmm, the weavings in this are deserving of the title art. They are beautiful. Yet how did you form this?"


    "It was made from the mud of a river," said Wrynncurth. "I had to purify the mud first, of course. Once done, I used the souls of a number of the walking dead to animate it. Once done, I place pieces of my hoard into it."


    "Ah, yes," said Durag. "That reminds me. My chief lieutenant, Akar, destroyed two of your golems. I shall restore them, and the pieces of your hoard we found within."


    "Oh, you may keep the bodies," said Wrynncurth. "Study them all you like. The coins, however, are much appreciated."


    Durag nodded, and the two seemed to be getting on well. Finally, he smiled. "Would you care for some refreshments?"


    "Of course," said Wrynncurth. "Estela, Relma, if you''ll excuse us. I''m sure both of us have matters we jolly well ought to discuss in private. Durag old boy, I need to hear a bit about what you know of the various faction. In particular, how Bryag is doing."


    Estela, Jomas, and Relma were led to a room and provided refreshments. As they did, Estela looked across her. "What now?"


    "Now I need to contact Lucius Elcano and try to set up negotiations," said Relma with a sigh.


    "Negotiations about what?" asked Estela. "What is the end goal here?"


    "I have..." Relma stood and paused. "I have a vision, Estela. A vision of a place, I''m not sure where. A place where men from all nations can come and negotiate. All the nations can have a voice in this place.


    "By having an easy way for negotiations to take place, we can prevent future wars. Different nations from thousands of miles away can spread information and culture. We can learn to understand one another, and all grow stronger from it."


    "Right, and how do you intend to set this up?" asked Estela, eyeing her oddly.


    "Well, I''ve already put together a number of powers," said Relma. "If we can bring in the nations here, that may help a lot. And as more nations join this place, others will want to as well. They will want to avoid having a coalition arranged against them."


    "You don''t really think you''ll be able to create peace just like that?" asked Estela. "It''ll collapse under its own weight. And even if you establish this coalition, neighboring lands will do the same. You can''t please everyone."


    "Ruling one country is hard," said Jomas. "How are you going to rule a hundred?"


    "Of course I know that it''ll be difficult," said Relma. "I''m not stupid.


    "But I think this may do some good, and maybe it could be the start of something better. I need you to come with me to make a report to discuss matters with King Tyus and the others.


    "Just uh... the communications will hurt a lot."


    "I''m ready for anything," said Estela.


    Relma then looked over to where Jomas was sitting, silently mulling something over. She realized she''d nearly gotten him in all this. "Jomas, how are you?"


    "...I did not mean for you to be kidnapped," said Jomas finally.


    "Don''t worry about it," said Relma. "Jomas, I''m going to need you with us as well for this; they need to know we''re all safe. Now come on, I''ll lead you to the communication room."


    Leading Estela and Jomas to the box, Relma explained the function. Estela listened to it, and Relma felt bad about only having this option. Yet she also felt relieved she wouldn''t be doing the communications.


    "Now, remember, this will hurt when you try to make contact," said Estela. "So, we need to work quickly." sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Estela drove her hand into it and hissed in pain. "Ow!"


    "Are you alright? I can speak for you if you-" began Relma.


    "I am fine, it took me by surprise," said Estela.


    And then King Tyus appeared before them. He was sitting in a seat, looking up in surprise. For a moment, he seemed to calculate. "You''re communication is done through unexpected means, Estela."


    "I apologize for taking so long, Father," said Estela. "The situation here is far more complex than we anticipated.


    "The Dragon Empire is not so much a single Kingdom as a loose coalition of fiefs, ruled by dragons. It seems they support one another when they come under threat and jockey for position."


    "Yes, this much was brought to me," said Tyus. "Do you believe an invasion is practical?"


    "I believe I sent Ajax with a report on the subject," said Estela.


    "You did; however, I wish to confirm your viewpoint to us," said Tyus. "I do not trust his word on its own."


    "Ajax has proven himself to me, Father," said Estela.


    "Perhaps, but he has not proven himself to me. Now explain," said Tyus.


    "Relma has made contact with several different factions," said Estela. "I mean those described in the letter I wrote. We believe..." Estela hissed.


    "Are you well?" asked Tyus.


    "The spell I am using causes pain to use," said Estela. "We believe that it may be possible to force the Dragon Empire to cease its attacks without a war. Doing so will also allow Harlenor to gain access to something we''ve never had before.


    "Horses."


    "Horses?" asked Tyus. "Then, Gormath''s letter was true."


    "Yes, the Conquista of Anoa ride them and have other weapons," said Estela. "If they are brought to Harlenor, and we can learn to breed and ride them...


    "Our armies could be unstoppable. No one would be able to stand against us."


    Tyus nodded, pleased. "I see.


    "And you are certain we cannot gain them with a war?"


    "Yes, if we start a war, the Dragon Empire will stop it," said Estela. "They''ve prevented the Conquista from bringing them to Harlenor for years.


    "Escor and Harlenor stand to benefit a great deal."


    "A worthy consideration," said Tyus. "Still, it may not be an option. The satyrs the Heir of Kings brought to us are getting impatient. They desire to die in battle, and we are obligated to provide them with one. Even now, several of them are trying to convince others to launch raids.


    "If I tell them that the war is off, we will have a different variety of war. One upon Escor''s own territory." Relma realized she''d forgotten about Shren and his people. That had been a mistake.


    "Have you spoken to Lucius about recalling them?" asked Estela.


    "The man is very insistent that the ritual is irreversible," said Tyus. "Either he is unable, or unwilling to reverse it."


    "...We could unleash them on the Sun Soul Empire," said Estela.


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "They are the odd man out here, Relma," said Estela. "Their alliance with Durag is one of a mutual enemy. They have no real friendship with any other faction, and they are in a weak position.


    "If we did launch the satyrs against them, they''d be in no position to cause problems."


    "And how would you get them across the Dragon Empire''s territory, unharmed?" asked Tyus flatly.


    "...We''re in the Road of Ancient Stone right now, aren''t we?" asked Estela. "Or a similar dimension. Perhaps, with a proper ritual, we could open a way."


    "I am no sorcerer, daughter," said Tyus. "However, I know enough about magic to know such a policy would be difficult.


    "You''d need a massive amount of power to create a pathway of that distance.


    "There is a reason the Road of Ancient Stone is not used for transporting armies."


    Relma knew she had to turn the conversation away from this subject and scanned over her options. Then Relma remembered something said in passing.


    Something she could use to fix this. "...What about the Hellfire Jewel?"


    "What do you mean?" asked Tyus.


    "Durag has a fragment of the hellfire jewel," said Relma. "With it, he should be able to break holes in dimensions. Couldn''t we use it to invade hell?"


    "...The idea may be insane enough to serve our purposes," mused Tyus.


    Relma had the solution; she just had to find it. And also avoid a full-scale war.

 Chapter Eighteen: Bryag

    Durag met Relma along within his office as he had several times before. It was a barren place, with a simple window looking out over the mountains. There were many books on the walls, meticulously organized and it did not look like anyone had read them. He was standing there, looking out that way.


    "Relma, I''m told you have a plan for invading hell?" said Durag, voice amused.


    "Not a plan so much as a concept," said Relma. "Did your meeting with Wrynncurth go well?" She tried to keep the memory of Durag''s horrors from her mind, it affected nothing.


    "Yes," said Durag. "Very.


    "But please, provide me with the details of your plan."


    "Our association with Lucius has caused us to have on our hands a large group of satyrs who want to die in battle," said Relma. "We''re concerned we''ll have to fight them and are looking for an opportunity to give them someone to fight."


    "And why do you want to use the Hellfire Jewel?" asked Durag.


    "Well, I was hoping that we might be able to open a portal through the Road of Ancient Stone to the pass of Dragon Bones," said Relma. "If we could do that, we could get them here.


    "Or, somewhere else."


    "Thus invading hell?" asked Durag.


    "Yes," said Relma, feeling a bit self-conscious. But if you were going to invade somewhere, hell seemed a good choice.


    "I shouldn''t try to invade hell directly," said Durag. "Doing so is a very... personal sort of attack. Traditional means of assault are not efficient for fighting demons. A single man of sufficient will can do immense damage to demons, while an army of fools might not even make a dent.


    "Hell is a purely spiritual plane, after all. What you see there, the landscape, is more an interpretation of the mortal psyche."


    "Ah, I see," said Relma. "Well, King Tyus has been pushing to launch an invasion of the Sun Soul Empire and I''m trying to talk him out of it."


    "That is out of the question," said Durag flatly. "I do have an arrangement with them, after all. And if I were to cut them loose, my own position would be that much weaker."


    "Then we have a problem," said Relma. "Shren and his kind will eventually attack someone. The only alternative is murdering them."


    "Jolly bad situation this," said Wrynncurth, emerging from the shadows. "Still, if we can''t afford to invade any one of these nations, why not help one side against the rebels?"


    "What rebels?" asked Durag. "There is no rebellion underway?"


    "Then let''s find one," said Wrynncurth. "I have in mind an idea that has been turning in my head for some time.


    "However, we will have to meet with Bryag first."


    "Bryag?" asked Durag. "Is that wise?"


    "Of course," said Wrynncurth. "I was like an uncle to him. And he''s been badly mistreated by a whole number of the other dragon. I think I''ve found a means by which we can justify killing the whole lot of his enemies with perfect legality.


    "Now we just need the reason."


    Durag looked to Relma. "I suggest you explain your own plan to him, Relma."


    The plan went over... well Relma didn''t know. Wrynncurth kept his same cheerful expression, though she guessed he was calculating things. He certainly seemed to be willing to factor it into his plans, though.


    "Well then," said Wryncurth. "Let''s jolly well head out at once and find him."


    "Right," said Relma, eager to go. "Durag, thank you for for hospirality. However, I do not... well, this place does not suit me. No offense."


    "None taken, this is the realm of the dead, after all," said Durag. "In regards to your suggestion for creating a route through the Road of Ancient Stone, I have created many such places. And, should it suit our tactics, I may well create another.


    "For now, however, I believe I can open a way for you to reach Bryag very quickly.


    "Even so, I should be careful. He is... aggressive."


    So it was that the group was arrayed once more, except Ajax of course. Together they stood in the throneroom of Durag, who was kneeling. The Hellfire Jewel within him began to flare with an unpleasant light. Relma tried to keep her eyes on it, while Estela looked away. Jomas gazed down at the floor.


    Whispers rose throughout the throneroom, and they were agonizing. Relma felt pain in those voices, and feral hatred. And as the whispers continue a ring of flame appeared in midair. And from the edges of that flame appeared a swirling vortex of blood, before settling into what might have been a hall.


    Yet it was a hall paved with bones and of bloodied flesh. The outline of vaguely humanoid figures could be seen writhing on it. Yet it was impossible to tell where they began and the floor ended.


    "What is that?" asked Estela.


    "Oh, that is the portal my dead walk through," said Durag, motioning. "I draw the souls from their nightmarish agony and offer them service instead. Like so." Out of the flesh mass, decayed and horrifying bodies pulled themselves out and staggered through. "This portal should lead to near Bryag immediately and safely.


    "I should be careful moving through here, it is a realm of envy. You may find your minds... tested."


    "Have you gone through it?" asked Estela.


    "Of course," said Durag. "I have long since become immune, in fact."


    "So, who will go?"


    Relma paused only for a moment, before walking forward. "I have to, this is my task."


    "And I jolly well need to as well," said Wrynncurth as the new undead moved into the hall. "Bryag is in need of some very good advice, and I seem to be the one to do it."


    "Well, I''m certainly not letting Relma go in there alone," said Estela.


    "I''ll go," said Jomas.


    "Glad to have you with us, Jomas," said Relma. "Come on."


    And so they walked forward.


    "Just keep walking and don''t stop for anything," said Durag as Relma passed him. "Oh, and don''t stare too deeply into the abyss."


    Even as he said it, Relma passed through the threshold.


    And it was then that she realized she was the leader of this group. Even as she set foot within the tunnel of hell, however, it seemed to shifter around them. Relma found herself walking along the path of bones in a twisting path. Estela, Jomas and Wrynncurth walked behind her and she kept a hand on Lightning Trail.


    Soon, however, the stability of the flesh passages began to yield away. The walls became translucent and within them, Relma saw what might have been people. Yet though they could be recognized as humanoid, they could not be recognized as anything else. They had no discernable gender or form, no clothes to identify class or hair. Their eyes were the pitchest black.


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    And they seemed to be fighting.


    They were tearing at one another, pulling eachother down, or away from the walls. Pale hands grasped at them, trying to rip one another away. Some were even gnawing on others like feral animals. And the lower Relma got, the more animalistic and feral they became, until soon they were less than animalistic.


    No animal had ever been so pitiable and vicious.


    And Relma realized as she walked that the creatures within the walls were descending with her. They were pulling one another down ever further in a mad scramble to get over the others. Even if one managed to pull themselves past the others, the mass as a whole was always descending.


    "What..." said Relma. "What are they fighting over? It''s like they''re gnawing at one another."


    "Don''t look at it, Relma, there''s nothing we can do," said Estela.


    The further they went, the more ragged and wounded the creatures were and all the while the realm darkened. Soon, the creatures had no eyes, just torn sockets, and their flesh was wounded and rended by hands and teeth. Relma no longer felt conflicted about Durag drawing these creatures up to serve him. The fate of walking the world as the dead must have been infinitely preferable to this place.


    "Why did you trust Durag with this?" asked Estela suddenly.


    "He stands to benefit by our success," said Relma. "And he seems to to not be wholly evil at heart. I''ll vouch for him."


    "Oh yes and you''re so worthy of vouching!" snarled Estela in sudden. "What do you know about ruling or negotiations! I was trained in all this, while you just sort of lucked into it all!


    "Why should you lead and determine policy!"


    Relma stepped back in shock, never having seen her like this. There seemed a manic look in her eye and her hand was on her sword. "Estela I-"


    "Shut up, why should you rule Harlenor Reunited!" said Estela, drawing her sword. "It''s not your birthright save by luck! Estal should-"


    Jomas grabbed Estela''s hand. "Why are you drawing your sword, Estela?"


    Estela shuddered and sheathed it quickly before moving it. "...Relma, forgive me.


    "I...


    "I don''t know what came over me. This place is..."


    "No time old, girl," said Wrynncurth. "We need to keep moving."


    On they walked as the passage became ever darker. Soon Relma had to get by with the light of her sword. Yet she found she could not leave her conversation with Estela like this. "You''re right, though, Estela. My birthright is pure luck, that''s why I''m doing this. I want to prove myself worthy of my heritage."


    Estela fell silent for a long moment. "Well, I hope you do.


    "At the rate we''re going we''re liable to all end up dead if you don''t."


    Then they passed through utter darkness and came into sunlit lands beyond.


    The sunlight, as it turned out, was the only thing bright about the surroundings. Further upriver, near the coast, Relma had seen occassional plants on the barren hills. Yet here the hills were all black as soot. Not a sound could be heard, no birds chirping or sound of wind could be perceived.


    And there were bodies. Thousands, no, tens of thousands of charred corpses. They were piled in a great trail, leading along the path toward an equally charred bridge. And at the edge of the bridge was a small mountain, covered in ashes. Not a tree or anything could be seen.


    "Look at these," said Estela. "Charred bodies. What could have burned the features off them?"


    "Fire," said Jomas.


    "Even dragonfire..." Estela. "This level of charring is something I''ve never seen. Remember the bodies in the pass of Dragon Bones? They still had well... there was blood and you could recognize them a bit."


    "Bryag certainly could. He always had the best firebrath," said Wrynncurth. "I''m surprise the bridge survived as much. "Still, perhaps there is a village around here we could see. The Sun Soul Empire is a little way to the south.


    "Still, we''ve business to conduct." And he made his way across the bridge over the bodies. As he stepped on them, they broke into ashes. Yet there were even more of them below. And as they walked, Relma felt both awed and sick.


    Looking at the river, she saw that the entire shore on her side was covered with bodies, writhing. But not one had made it to the other side and the lands beyond she saw were green and beautiful. All save the ash-strewn mountain.


    "Did all these die recently?" asked Estela.


    "No, I don''t think so," said Wrynncurth, motioning to one. "Many of these are eroding with the wind. See, the skull has been worn away, that would have taken some time. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Bryag must have caked the ashes onto the flagstones over years of breathing flame."


    Then Wrynncurth moved toward the ash-strewn mountain and tapped the rock. There was a chink like metal and an eye at large as Relma was tall opened before them. "Ah, there''s the fellow of the hour.


    "Bryag! Bryag old chap, great to see you at last!"


    "Uncle Wrynncurth?" asked Bryag and his voice shook the bridge. "It''s been years."


    "Yes it has," said Wrynncurth. "I thought I might drop in for a visit and see how you are. With me is Estela Vortegex, a Princess of Escor, her fiancee Jomas Endorean, and her squire, Relma Artorious. How have you been?"


    Bryag shifted, gradually propping himself up to sit on his haunches. His head rose so high that the shadow it cast covered the bridge. Jomas took several, intimidated steps back.


    "...Not well," said Bryag morosely. "My hoard is gone. I wanted to be a lender, like you. I loaned my hoard for interest, but there were never any returns."


    "Why not?" asked Wrynncurth, not intimidated.


    "They defaulted," said Bryag.


    "Defaulted?" asked Estela. "What did they spend it on?"


    Bryag seemed to think about it for a moment. "...Improvement."


    "What improvements?" asked Wrynncurth.


    "...I don''t know," said Bryag after a moment. "They didn''t say."


    "But shouldn''t you know?" asked Estela. "Don''t you have records?"


    "Yes, I do," said Bryag, moving his bulk to reveal an immense number of stolen tablets. Relma wondered how it did not crush them. All of them had large amounts of writing on them and Wrynncurth looked at them. "I have... I had them all made here. But they''ve all defaulted, so it doesn''t matter. They can''t pay it back."


    "Hold on, the hoard I saw in Lord Evren''s lair was massive," said Relma. "How is it possible that he couldn''t pay off his debt?"


    "He''s a cheat," said Jomas.


    Bryag shook his head. "Not enough money.


    "Interest."


    "Interest, what do you mean interest?" asked Estela.


    "A Sornian concept. When I make a loan, they pay it back with a little extra," said Wrynncurth. "Usually a small percentage return that grows with the time it takes for the debt to be repaid.


    "What percentage did you have on these, Bryag?"


    Bryag passed one of the stone tablets to Wrynncurth. "Twenty percent."


    Wrynncurth went dead still. "Twenty percent interest?! Bryag, how did you ever expect to make a loan with those kinds of terms?!"


    "It was supposed to be a starting position," said Bryag. "But they all took it,"


    "Let me see the contracts," said Wrynncurth, reading through one of them. Then, when finished, he moved on to another. Each time, Relma noticed there was a beautiful red scale engraved on the tablet.


    "...Well, these are all completely legal," said Wrynncurth after a moment. "At least from what I can determine here. And judging from the date, the Red Dragons owe twenty percent interest to Bryag.


    "Bryag old chap, this isn''t what you could call a reasonable contract."


    "You''re supposed to make money," said Bryag, not comprehending.


    "Wait, where is the signature?" asked Estela, looking over one of the contracts.


    Bryag reached down and pointed at the contract. However, his claw was so huge that Estela almost fell over, reaching for her sword. Jomas, however, caught her.


    "There, see, a scale engraved into the stone," said Bryag.


    Wrynncurth nodded. "Well, if all this is true, then the Red Dragons who took this deal all, individually, owe my nephew a lot of money. A lot.


    "In fact, I''m not sure there is enough silver, gold and copper in the world to pay off one of them. Twenty percent interest, combined with hundreds of years worth of failure to pay off the debt and..."


    "Why would anyone be stupid enough to make that kind of contract?" asked Relma.


    "Because they never intended to honor it," said Estela. "They just wanted to rob Bryag blind with a tacit show of legality. When you get a deal that is too good to be true, it is too good to be true.


    "Nobody offers you this kind of chance if they really mean to give it to you."


    "Vanessa said it was a good idea," said Bryag. "I talked with her."


    "What?" said Wrynncurth, looking up. "Why would she-


    "Bryag, you don''t have a hoard anymore. You''ve been robbed blind, why hasn''t she done anything about this?"


    "Says the debt helps her control them," said Bryag.


    "Of course," said Wrynncurth, sound suddenly angry. His voice was a low snarl. "You being penniless discredits your status as an alternative. And keeping you in check lets her hold this over the Lords."


    "They probably didn''t think that Bryag would ever be able to force the issue," said Relma.


    "I don''t want to force it," said Bryag.


    "Why not?" asked Wrynncurth, looking up sharply.


    "Money is worthless," said Bryag with a shrug.


    "No it''s not," said Wrynncurth.


    "Gold not good for making anything," said Bryag. "Heavy, weak, useless.


    "Only valuable because people say it''s valuable. The real value is people."


    "Well, yes, but surely you don''t want to be cheated like this do you?" asked Estela.


    "I don''t care," said Bryag. "I''m helping Vanessa."


    "But you don''t have a hoard!" said Wrynncurth. "You''re spending your time burning undead to keep their lands safe while they laugh at you? Surely you must want to get what you are owed."


    "I''d much rather go back to sleep," said Bryag with a shrug, before lying down.


    "But Evren is winning!" said Wrynncurth.


    "No he''s not," said Bryag, voice suddenly holding anger in it. "Evren is a smallminded, weak, miser. He sits on his hoard, watching worthless bits of metal pile up and congratulates himself. But his spirit is like the metal he treasures and he cannot be happy.


    "His ''triumph'' is nothing. And he gnaws on the ends of it to distract from his own misery.


    "I can''t imagine any worse fate than to leave him as he is. I could crush his skull, but that would hurt the Dragon Empire. So I let him decay all the more."


    This wasn''t working at all. They were appealing to Bryag''s desire for vengeance, power and money, but he clearly didn''t have any.


    "But what about the people?" asked Jomas.


    "People?" asked Bryag.


    "Dragons like Lord Evren, they''re abusing their power," said Jomas. "They''ve been sacrificing more and more people."


    "Jomas is right," said Relma, surprised. "The people of this land look up to you, want to become like you, a dragon in your image. Evren is just devouring them in larger numbers.


    "The land is suffering."


    Wrynncurth nodded. "The girl is right, Bryag, Evren might be creating his own misery or he might not. But what we can''t deny is the fact that he is causing immense problems for the people he rules. And making everyone nearly as miserable as he is.


    "With these outstanding debts, you are in a perfect position to force him and those like him to change. This is a real opportunity."


    "...And what do you want me to do, Uncle Wrynncurth?" asked Bryag.


    "We should go to the Temple of Vrengar, that is still operating, isn''t it?" asked Wrynncurth.


    "Yes, Vanessa is based there," said Bryag. "She moved there after Durag seized the capital."


    "Right, well, we''ll go there and meet with your sister," said Wrynncurth. "Once there, we can find a way that you and she can use this to consolidate both your holdings."


    Bryag sat up and looked around. "...Very well then. I was a bit bored.


    "But I can''t leave the river for long."


    "Well, as it turns out, I may be able to help you there," said Wrynncurth.


    At that moment, the portal opened and the satyrs poured forth from it. They came marching in numbers and with them was a core of Harlenorian warriors.


    "Blood shall flow in rivers! The rotting dead shall feel the wrath of our scimitars! The war, my brethren! All shall die!" cried Shren.


    "Should I kill them?" asked Bryag.


    "No, Bryag, old chap," said Wrynncurth. "They''ll be taking your place on the bridge and ensuring that no one crosses it. It should give us time to act." Durag had already been making plans to send a new army of the dead.


    "It''s nice to see you, Shren," said Relma, moving to the leader of the satyrs.


    "Ah, Queen Relma," said Shren. "We have been told that there are unending tides of undead who come from the bowels of the earth to attack this place! We shall die well against them!"


    "Yes, well, they''re actually the tortured souls of the damned given a mockery of life after being torn from hell," said Relma. "So, you''ll probably be doing them a favor.


    "Just be sure not to leave the bridge unguarded. If any get over this region, it will fail Lucius."


    At that moment, a blonde man in polished armor moved forward, flanked by guards. Estela met him. "Princess Estela," he said.


    "Varsus, what are you doing here?" asked Estela.


    "Providing a core for the army," said Varsus. "We''ve been assigned by King Tyus to ensure the satyrs stay in line and to maximize undead casualties. Lucius provided us a way through the Road of Ancient stone after communicating with Durag.


    "It was... unpleasant."


    "We saw something of it ourselves," said Estela. "It is probably wise to have a Harlenorian in command of this place."


    "In any case, I don''t feel very good about setting Shren on our own allies," said Varsus.


    "All of them want to die," said Estela. "And the walking dead in this place would if they were capable of thought. "We''re giving them what they want, and releasing their souls from their torment."


    "Yes, well, it is the principle of the thing," said Varsus.


    "Now come, we must meet with Queen Vanessa," said Wrynncurth.


    "...I''m staying on the bridge," said Jomas after a moment.


    "What? Why?" asked Estela.


    "They need help," said Estela. "Durag might try to betray us and someone needs to destroy the undead."


    "It would be wise to have someone here to observe the situation," noted Estela. "Durag might turn on us.


    "And having Jomas on hand will help with the fighting."


    "I agree," said Relma.


    Everyone looked at her strangely and Relma found their attitude offensive. "What? Just because I want a peaceful solution doesn''t mean I trust Durag."


    "Fair enough," said Wrynncurth. "But some of you would have had to stay behind in either case. I can''t carry all of you anyway."


    And so the last stage was set. Now they just had to make their play.

 Chapter Nineteen: The Temple

    Flying with Bryag was... difficult.


    The beating of his wings made whirlwinds and Wrynncurth had to stay far from him. And clinging to Estela from behind provided only so much grounding beneath the gusts. Although it wasn''t exactly unpleasant, being this near to Estela. Yet the land flew out from under them at a rate that would make one sick, a blur of green jungle and desolate realms.


    The Temple of Vrengar was gigantic. It was larger than Bryag and built directly into the side of a mountain. The rock was of the purest white, with a snowy peak at the very top. The fortress loomed high above them. Wrynncurth eyed it with a cheerful gaze. "Well, I must say that is quite a bit larger than expected."


    "You''ve been here before, haven''t you?" asked Estela.


    "Yes, but it was far smaller last time," said Wrynncurth. "That manmade plateau wasn''t there at all. The old girl Vanessa has made some major improvements since."


    "How does she even use the fortress?" asked Estela.


    "Do you think she takes a human form?" asked Relma.


    Then she looked down and saw Queen Vanessa standing upon the stone plateau. It was near, but not on, the mountain''s peak. She was in her human form, as always, and wrapped in a gray cloak. Wrynncurth descended to land there, while Bryag perched at the edge.


    "Wrynncurth, what is the meaning of this?" asked Vanessa, not acknowledging Bryag.


    "Nothing to worry about," said Wrynncurth. "We are here to talk with you."


    Vanessa looked to Relma and paused. "...Relma Artorious, I believe you have expanded my Empire by a significant margin. And perhaps opened the way to my conquest of the Sun Soul Empire.


    "Very well, I''ll play along." She looked up. "Bryag, why are you here? You''re supposed to be holding the river. You know how important your task is."


    "I''m not necessary," said Bryag.


    "You needn''t worry; we''ve arranged for a replacement bridge guard," said Wrynncurth. "I''m here to discuss Evren."


    "What of him?" asked Vanessa, looking defensive. "He and his followers pay their tribute to me on time."


    "But do they pay their tribute to Bryag, old girl?" asked Wrynncurth, voice a little cold.


    "What tribute, what are you talking about?" asked Vanessa.


    "I have been looking through the contracts signed by them to Bryag," said Wrynncurth. "According to these, they owe them the following amount." And he drew out a sheet of parchment he''d written up after looking over them.


    Vanessa held the contract and looked over it. Her mouth opened as she read the number. "That is..."


    "A rough, conservative analysis, of course," said Wrynncurth. "But, Bryag should be owed somewhere around this or higher. From each of them."


    "You can''t possibly expect them to pay this," said Vanessa, looking up.


    "Didn''t they sign the contract and take his money?" asked Wrynncurth flatly. "Were they under mind control when they did this? Or under threat of duress?"


    "No, but..." Vanessa struggled. "Do you actually think they''ll pay up?"


    "Oh, I doubt very much they can pay up," said Wrynncurth. "Naturally, however, Bryag would therefore be entitled to take lands in place of gold. And when the lands fail to pay it, he could certainly take possession of their very person.


    "It might be quite interesting, seeing an entire race sold into slavery. Perhaps made to work off their debt to the Dragon Empire."


    "But this is insane!" said Vanessa. "Evren isn''t going to give in just because you owe him the money! And Bryag, even if you don''t have the power to remove the Dragon Lords singlehanded."


    "Maybe not. But what Bryag does have is access to armies," said Wrynncurth. His smile was becoming unfriendly. "A great many armies."


    Vanessa looked at Wrynncurth and shuddered, then up to Bryag. Her expression shifted carefully. "...You...


    "Bryag, are you threatening to invade me?"


    "No," said Bryag. "Just Evren and his kind. They are tyrants."


    "But Bryag, don''t you understand!" said Vanessa. "They''re only using you to try and make an excuse to invade! They''re never going to actually pay off your debt!"


    "Now, not so quick, Vanessa, I never said I planned to invade," said Wrynncurth. "I''d rather avoid war altogether. I''m merely stating that Bryag has options."


    Vanessa eyed Wrynncurth distrustfully. "What do you want, Wrynncurth?"


    "Simple enough, old girl," said Wrynncurth. "I''d like to start a discussion between nations."


    "A discussion on what?" asked Vanessa.


    "On how to handle this debt crisis, of course," said Wrynncurth. "You see, Bryag now is in a position to have a great deal of power. He can destroy you.


    "Or he can choose to forgive the debt if he so chooses. Or some of them. Or provide an alternative means of payment."


    "Bryag, you have to forgive the debt," said Vanessa, looking up. "Make it public. This is going to endanger our entire Empire!"


    "Your Empire," said Bryag flatly. "I only own a bridge and no hoard.


    "You never visit me. Never acknowledge my existence or respond to my letters. You use me as a tool to protect your borders and keep control of the others.


    "I don''t care about the Empire. Why should I?"


    "What about Father?!" said Vanessa. "He spent ages putting this together, and you''re going to burn it down!"


    "I wonder what Vrengar would think of your present situation," mused Wrynncurth. "If I recall, he was always in favor of having careful regard for weaker species. His rise to power was based on liberating humans. He taught them to forge weapons in their own way.


    "The Empire he founded now looks a lot more like the realm of Alchara. Just with Dragons instead. Just with a different set of masters. What happened to the Red Flight?"


    "May I speak?" asked Relma, deciding to enter the discussion.


    Vanessa looked up in irritation. "What is it, what do you want, girl?"


    "Whenever I go to talk with the people of this land, they all seem to have a high opinion of Bryag," said Relma. "They seem to like him a lot better than their local Lords."


    "Yes, what of it?" asked Vanessa. "It encourages them to keep working to worship something."


    "Well, what if Bryag disappeared?" asked Relma. "Do you think they''d turn their worship to you?"


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    "Of course they would," said Vanessa.


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "We are their Lords," said Vanessa. "Bryag is merely a... mortar of sorts to the temple."


    "And what exactly do you do for them?" asked Relma.


    "We protect them," said Vanessa. "And ensure their lands remain fertile by the sacrifices."


    "Bryag does most of the former, though," said Relma.


    "We built most of the cities and roads," said Vanessa.


    "But all those things are falling into disrepair. A lot of them were funded with money from Bryag," noted Relma.


    "Relma has a point," said Estela. "What incentive do humans have to tolerate your existence if Bryag is removed?"


    "If they rebel, we shall annihilate them," said Vanessa simply.


    "I will defend them," said Bryag.


    Vanessa looked up to him with some hurt, but mostly a look of a loss of control. "...Bryag, what are-"


    "You''ll be able to kill Bryag, Vanessa," said Wrynncurth. "But he''ll take down a lot of you with him. Will you be able to control the revolutions then? Even with the Conquista raiding you, the Sun Soul Empire trying to seize Dragons for the pyre and Durag? And that''s assuming King Tyus doesn''t take the chance to avenge his son.


    "We''ve hardly been keeping him from invading you now. If he senses weakness, he''ll ignore our suggestions. What are you going to do if Bryag does rebel? Or if he is killed by some band of heroes?


    "Who can replace him?" S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Vanessa narrowed her eyes. "You''re threatening me."


    "No," said Wrynncurth. "We''re asking you questions, Vanessa. If you don''t like the answers to those questions, maybe you need to rethink your strategy for rule."


    "YOU DARE?!!" snarled Vanessa.


    And then she was no longer elven, but a dragon. Great wings arose from her back as she rose upward, becoming a beast of great size. Wrynncurth remained completely still while Estela and Jomas stepped back.


    Wrynncurth lit his pipe. "Yes. Yes, I do."


    "I could reduce you to a charred skeleton with one burst of my breath," said Vanessa.


    "Then you get a charred skeleton. And Harlenor declares a crusade against you," said Wrynncurth. "Everyone knows I''m here, and I''ve already put the Conquista in contact with King Tyus. I assure, you old girl, nothing would please Tyus more than to launch a crusade into this place. Especially with the death of his hated enemy as justification."


    Vanessa held Wrynncurth''s gaze. "...Why would you do this, Wrynncurth?"


    "Because I''m concerned for you," said Wrynncurth. "At the rate, things are going, you''re liable to collapse. Sooner or later, you''ll have a civil war or lose enough dragons to not be able to protect your empire.


    "And also to establish a profitable World Peace."


    Vanessa paused, calculated, and then looked to Relma. "You, you''re the one behind all this. What do you really want?"


    Relma stepped forward. "In the more immediate future? I''d like to establish a dialogue to work all this out without violence. And I believe I can get it together.


    "I''d like you to send out messages to all the great powers and ask them to send emissaries to negotiate an end to the war. If we communicate, I''m certain we''ll be able to find a natural solution to all of this."


    "To do so would be to betray the original plans of my father," said Vanessa simply. "Emperor Vrengar wanted us to rule over all the area he sealed away."


    "When was the last time you launched an invasion, Vanessa old girl?" asked Wrynncurth."A long time ago," said Vanessa. "However, even so, I cannot disobey that grand goal without his explicit permission. I will agree to this... meeting.


    "If the Heir of Kings communicates directly with the Emperor Vrengar."


    Relma had the feeling she was being sent to die again. If she did die, coordinating this kind of operation became more difficult. "How do I do that?"


    "You must climb up the mountain to the very peal and enter the Shrine of Vrengar," said Vanessa. "If you brave the challenges within and survive, you may warrant a direct meeting with Vrengar. Gain the approval of my father, and I shall agree to your terms.


    "However, you must walk and without Bryag." And she took to flight and descended the slopes.


    Wonderful. More travel. Vanessa was obviously stalling and hoping to get Relma killed.


    Just what Relma needed.


    "...I don''t suppose we could threaten her into submission," asked Estela.


    "Not a good idea, Estela old girl," said Wrynncurth. "Better to play along, succeed, and then let her find a new excuse. And so on and so forth, until when we put our foot down, she''ll have no right to complain."


    "She''ll be getting in contact with the Dragon Lords," noted Bryag.


    "Oh no, I doubt that," said Wrynncurth. "Vanessa is smart enough to know her peril. And if she was willing to kill us, damn the consequences, she could have done so to most of us. You wouldn''t have killed her, I think.


    "Bryag, I suggest you fly back to the shore for a bit. Make your presence known and give the Dragon Lords reason to sweat. I wager Estela and Relma have work to do."


    "Fine then, let''s go," said Estela.


    The group began to scale up the mountain. The only way up was a path cut into the rock, leading up and around the peak. From it, Relma saw the dizzying heights and realized that before them was a vast stretch of the Empire. From this place, she could see fields and rivers and Durag''s domain.It was rough going on the feet and the winds howled about them, so that Relma was afraid she''d be swept off into the lands below.


    It wasn''t long before her feet were aching and Relma realized her shoes were beginning to wear thin. She''d had these all the way from Gel Carn and they were falling to bits, while her clothes were travel-stained and barren.


    "Relma, are you certain this will work?" asked Estela. Estela was holding up far better, refusing to show any sign of weakness in the journey.


    How did she do it? Look so composed?


    "Certain?" asked Relma. "No, but it''s the best chance we have at the moment. Generally, you''ve got to move things along quickly.


    "Do you think Durag will invade?"


    "Why are you asking me that?" asked Estela.


    "Well, if he does, we''ll be able to call in the dragon''s Queen Vanessa calls down to confront them in a decisive battle. I hope," said Relma. "Or maybe things will completely fall to pieces, and we''ll have to make a run for it."


    "What exactly was the plan here?" asked Estela.


    "It''s more like I have several different plans in motion, and all of them connect," said Relma. "So if they all succeed, we get the best result."


    "And if any of them fails?" asked Estela.


    "We improvise," said Relma. "I''ve already got plans for what to do in most situations."


    "What are you going to do if Durag can''t be trusted?" asked Estela.


    "Well, he decides to betray us, I could probably suggest a unified invasion of his forces," said Relma. "If he can be trusted, I can use him to pressure the Dragon Empire into giving Bryag concessions."


    "And how will you get the Sun Soul Empire to make peace anyway?" asked Estela. "Their whole culture is based around raiding."


    "Simple, I''ll just suggest they stop," said Relma. "They already give their souls willingly to the Sun Spirit. So if they focus on improving the quality of their souls, there won''t be a problem. It isn''t as though they are winning the war anyway. So they have an incentive to make peace."


    "And the Conquista?" asked Estela.


    "We''ll be able to offer them the chance to get back to Harlenor," said Relma.


    "How?" asked Estela. "The Dragon Empire will never accept that, and if you force them, it will be a humiliation. And we both know Father will want the first choice of guns and horses.


    "What do you plan to do, bypass the Pass of Dragon Bones?"


    "Actually, yes," said Relma. "If Vrengar tears down the barrier, the Conquista of Anoa will have easy access to the Islands of Power and Sorn. That would give them trade and a means to move their horses. Second, it becomes possible for outside powers to pressure them."


    "How is that a good thing?" asked Estela.


    "It means that the Conquista will have to worry about a northern front," said Relma, not understanding how she couldn''t see it. It was so obvious. "Do you remember King Nagos? The Terror of the Seas? We heard that he became the dominant power in that region; no one can beat him.


    "Well, maybe the Conquista will be able to check his power.


    "And once they are focused on the Islands of Power, they''ll be less likely to make war on the dragons. In fact, the two would benefit from an alliance."


    "Of course," mused Estela. "The Red Dragons might like to set up their own little kingdoms on the islands. They could provide a critical advantage at sea. We might even be able to open up a new front on Calisha.


    "What about Durag and Highwatch?"


    "Durag will be only too glad to have access to new findings and information," said Relma. "He might be interested to learn about Magicora in Northern Escor and other places. And, of course, Highwatch, well, I don''t know how they''ll like it.


    "But they will probably benefit from not having so many outside threats. If Durag is secure, they are secure too." Relma sighed. "It wasn''t my original plan, but things sort of worked out this way. As long as we do things properly, we should be able to get all this to work out."


    "Unless it doesn''t," muttered Estela.


    "Well, obviously," said Relma.


    As they scaled up to the peak, however, Relma began to realize that she was the leader in their group. Even Estela was looking to her for directions now. She was questioning her more like a subordinate. Relma was not certain how to feel about that.


    On the one hand, it was what she wanted.


    But a good thing could be taken too far.


    At last, they reached the peak and came to a great stone building, shaped like a dragon''s head. Before it stood, several priests in crimson robes. Hands hidden by their sleeves, they bowed to her.


    "Hail, Relma Artorious," they said. "We have awaited your arrival."


    Wonderful, more destiny.

 Chapter Twenty: Trial by Fire

    There was silence for a moment.


    Then Estela stepped forward and Relma back. The Princess of Estal threw her cloak behind her shoulders. Her mail was revealed, and she caught her sword in an underhand grip. A gust of wind blew her hair beside her, and she looked very impressive.


    "You were expecting us?" asked Estela.


    "Our Lord, Vrengar, told us to watch for you," said the priest. "He also warned that soldiers might pursue you." He and those with him bowed, as a howling wind shot through Relma''s hair. She realized just how far she would fall if she slipped off this mountain.


    "Is Vanessa acting contrary to his will?" asked Estela, surprised.


    "Queen Vanessa rules her own realm and Vrengar his," said the priest. The two understand one another. However, I can offer you shelter, should you need it."


    "Thank you," said Estela, adjusting her sword and stretching her neck. "However, no soldiers have pursued us thus far."


    "I see," said the priest. "Then, perhaps our offer was unnecessary. Why have you come to this place? My lord did not say."


    "We''re here to meet Vrengar, actually," said Estela. "Or rather, Relma is. I am here with my squire for that purpose."


    "Then follow me," said the priest, before motioning.


    Together, they walked to the double doors and opened them. Moving through them, they entered a place brightly lit by many torches. Here a round table was prepared for them, and they were seated.


    "Have you yet eaten?" asked the priest.


    "No," said Estela. "We''ve only just arrived.


    "Then I shall have food and wine brought," said the priest. "Once you have eaten, I shall explain the details of achieving a meeting with Lord Vrengar."


    As it turned out, the food was fish, and Estela seemed to enjoy it a great deal. However, she insisted Relma eat it first to determine if any poison was in it. Relma could purify poison in her own body, after all. The priests ended up eating with them, and Relma found the hospitality odd.


    "This is excellent," said Estela.


    "Thank you," said the priest. "These fish are taken only from mountain pools in the Road of Ancient Stone. Holy magics must purify them, and then they can be eaten. You needn''t worry; the food taster already tried it and was not killed."


    "Do people often die?" asked Estela.


    "Sometimes, it''s a risk from this kind of dish," said the priest.


    "Do you often meet with the villagers of this land?" asked Relma.


    "No," said the priest. "We take care of this sanctuary and only meet with pilgrims. And they are few and far between. Lord Vrengar prefers to simply take power from the worship given to Red Dragons.


    "And he does not like to be consulted, save perhaps on matters of smithing."


    "Then, there is no organized religion?" asked Relma.


    "There are some," said the priest. "To each dragon their own priests."


    "Excuse me," said Estela. "I don''t believe you told us your name?"


    "We give up our names when we become priests of Vrengar," said the priest. "For our purposes, I am the High Priest and only High Priest. When our duties require identification, each of us has a number assigned to them."


    "Why is that?" asked Relma.


    "Lord Vrengar prefers it that way," said High Priest."In any case, you may be granted a meeting with Lord Vrengar. However, you must meet him alone. To do so, you must face a trial by fire."


    "What do you mean by that?" asked Relma, curious.


    High Priest pointed to a stone door on the far wall. As he did, it shifted and pulled aside to reveal utter darkness. "Within that chamber is a series of flames. To go through them will do you no harm. However, the power of the flames will be on your will.


    "If you succeed, you may meet Lord Vrengar beyond it."


    "Why is this necessary, exactly?" asked Relma.


    "Everyone who wishes to speak with him has to do it," said High Priest. "Those who wish for lesser questions speak to us. And all of us have performed the trial by fire.


    "Lord Vrengar sees no one at all, if possible. He communicates only to those who have proven themselves and direct descendants."


    "Why?" asked Estela.


    "Lord Vrengar prefers to take an impersonal approach to rule," said High Priest. "Only one may enter the flames at a time, however."


    There was silence, and Estela looked to Relma. "So, are you going to do this, Relma?"


    Relma sighed. "We don''t seem to have much choice. Still, at least the meal was nice."


    "Then follow me," said High Priest.


    Estela and Relma were led through the darkness; beyond it, they found the walls were of simple stone. Not what one would expect from a temple. Estela looked around.


    "This place is much humbler than the palace of Queen Vanessa," said Estela.


    "Lord Vrengar prefers practicality to opulence," said High Priest. "Luxury is not necessary, save for effect. And Lord Vrengar prefers to leave people to mind their own affairs.


    "Here we are." He came to a simple door and unlocked it. "The dimension of trials lies through that door."


    "Yes, I understand," said Relma.


    "If you should decide to go back, you may turn back at any time," said High Priest. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then he opened the door, and Relma saw a reddish void beyond it.


    Stepping through, Relma walked forward.


    Soon, Relma found herself within a hallway. Or rather, a single road of red light in a void of blackness. As she walked, stars began to appear around them, and she felt the road become warm. Moving on, however, she found the road got hotter the further she went.


    Sweat began to drip down her brow, and she tried starting to run.


    As she did, she drew off her cloak to try and cool down. Yet the heat got worse and worse, to the point of hurting. Halting, Relma stepped back, and the heat decreased. Looking at her skin, however, she realized that it was not marred. Nor was there sweat.


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    A spell.


    It was a spell meant to simulate heat and pain.


    A test of pain and trial by fire.


    Relma paused for a moment and looked back to see the door not far behind. Then, turning back, she began to run. Soon, the agony increased, and she felt as though she was in an oven. Her brow was mopped with sweat, or so it felt, and then she felt agony.


    With a scream, she scrambled back, trying to beat off the flames.


    Yet there were no flames. No injury.


    And then Relma realized that to move onward, she would have to be burned alive. But how could she move through that? Every reflex told her that she had to stay away. Then Relma considered that the heat might disappear just a little way on.


    It wasn''t likely, but it was something to hope for.


    Relma ran.


    And as she did, she felt the fire take hold of her clothes. She screamed as flames scorched her flesh, yet she did not keep running. Her flesh was turning black, burning, as her eyes watered. She felt her skin peeling away, and her muscles were burned next, and she used magic to control her pain.


    Her heart was racing, but she ran on.


    She focused, allowing the pain to pass through her, and forced herself. Every step was utter agony as her muscles were consumed, and her skeleton was charred. If the flames had been real, she''d have been long dead, and yet they were not. And so she had to experience every moment, pressing on only out of a feral hope that she might escape.


    If she ran back, it might be a longer trip anyway.


    At last, her skeleton was burned away, and nothing remained. The pain was gone.


    Relma had gone beyond it and came to the throne of Vrengar.


    It was a high seat upon a raised dais. Vrengar sat within it, his head resting on one hand. His long, dark hair fell around him, and a red cloak shrouded his form. His face was black-bearded, and his eyes were violet. He eyed her curiously, then rose from it.


    "...I must admit, I expected you to retreat," said Vrengar.


    "You..." Relma tried to remember the agony she had been in. It was still with her, but only as something that once was. It was like remembering you used not to be able to read. The fact that you had to learn at some point was unimportant once you knew how to do it. "Are you Vrengar?"


    "I am," said Vrengar. "And I am, in a sense, the God of the Red Dragons."


    "Aren''t you also the God of the Dragon Empire?" asked Relma, choosing her words carefully.


    "I suppose someone must fulfill that role if the Sun Soul Empire and Elranor are to be kept out," said Vrengar. "But I assure you, it has never been one I''ve held any interest in holding formally. Men make offerings to me in exchange for aid with forging, and governments use me to justify their reign.


    "In return, I stay out of their affairs."


    "Then you aren''t concerned with what Queen Vanessa and Bryag are doing?" asked Relma.


    "Systems can''t really be controlled," said Vrengar with a shrug. "Attempts to do so generally only result in spectacular failure. I prefer to let people mind their own affairs. So long as they fulfill their obligations to me, there isn''t a problem."


    "But don''t you have an obligation to the humans who serve you as well?" asked Relma.


    "Of course I do," said Vrengar. "I provide them with forging and inventions greater than anywhere else in the world. In exchange, they provide worship. That is as far as I am willing to involve myself.


    "How their Lords treat them and what they do about it is their own affair."


    "Why are you so inactive in this?" asked Relma.


    "Because of your sire, Anoa the Bright, to be honest," said Vrengar.


    Relma wondered what he meant and decided to ask further. "What do you mean?"


    Vrengar walked down the stairs and sighed. Walking past her, he looked out into the starry expanse. "I had a vision long ago.


    "It was called the Hundred Year Plan. Elranor, Smyngoth, and I would engineer the creation of human kingdoms. We would use them to overthrow Alchara''s power and force changes that liberated us.


    "All of which would take place over a century.


    "However, it succeeded too well. Anoa the Bright could not be controlled or reasoned with. His rampage tore through the elven kingdoms and nearly drove them to extinction. This led to an escalating cycle of violence known as the God War. The result was the near annihilation of all dragons. The Silver are few and hidden, and Smyngoth''s family has been twisted.


    "And the scars of that kind of action are on the world to this day.


    "The root cause of the problem was one man meddling in another''s affair. Alchara''s obsession with harmony led to the oppression of lesser races. Our obsession with revenge led to the destruction of the Gold and Silver Flights. Anoa''s obsession with establishing a unified Kingdom led to ages of war.


    "All of these atrocities had their root cause in willful domination.


    "In my experience, things are best left to work themselves out."


    "But the Hundred Year Plan wasn''t a failure at all," said Relma. "Yes, Anoa wasn''t exactly nice, but Harlenor United came to be. And from it, we got our entire culture and history.


    "And even if it is, don''t you see that doing nothing isn''t helping either. Refusing to do something about a problem is just like creating a problem.


    "The entire world you''ve set up here is falling to pieces."


    "Because of you, Razoria," said Vrengar simply. He was using her Angelic name, and Relma wondered why. Was there some other conversation being had here?


    Relma paused. "How is this my fault?"


    Vrengar shrugged. "You had a very clear set of instructions on what you should do. You were to gain the Dragonscale Shield and kill Durag. Instead, you decided to deviate from the path you were chosen for. You are trying to dominate everyone for yourself.


    "Now you''ve put yourself in the impossible position of pleasing everyone.


    "This situation is of your own creation."


    "No, it isn''t! It''s of your creation!" snapped Relma. "Yours and everyone else in this land! You''re the one who sealed off this region completely from the rest of the world! You were the one who did nothing and let the Dragon Empire degenerate! You might not have chosen to do anything, but that just means you chose to do nothing!


    "You don''t think this land would be this vicious and stagnant if they had to worry about Calisha and Harlenor. The outside threats would have forced them to come to an understanding centuries ago."


    "Or they would have been conquered and forced into submission," noted Vrengar.


    "I have difficulty believing Baltoth could run this place any worse," said Relma. She was being somewhat more abrasive than usual, but she was about at the end of her patience. This was a world where someone like Durag was among the saner of the rulers.


    Vrengar looked at Relma with a raised eyebrow. "...Are you serious?


    "You would genuinely prefer your archenemy to this status quo?"


    "Why not?" asked Relma. "He runs the largest and most powerful Empire in the world, and he''s willing to negotiate. He must be doing something right. And if Harlenor was in contact with the Conquista, we might be able to force the Dragon Empire to reform."


    "How magnanimous of you," said Vrengar, voice snide. "And there we see the beginnings of the disease known as altruism."


    "It has nothing to do with altruism," said Relma. "If the Dragon Empire was facing the prospect of invasion by sea, they could not stagnate. They''d have no choice but to treat their citizens with a bit more respect. And this place collapsing in on itself is causing problems for my allies. By fixing these problems, I advance myself.


    "But I''d much rather fix them in a way that benefits everyone.


    "Right now, I''m trying to fix the situation by getting everyone to work together and agree. Now it might end in disaster, but at least I''ll have tried to solve the problem instead of just abandoning the world.


    "And I want you to help me with this."


    Vrengar paused and seemed to consider his options. "What do you want me to do?"


    "Break the seals preventing this land from reaching others," said Relma.


    "So that Escor can launch a full-on invasion of me?" asked Vrengar. "I am no fool."


    "Fine, leave the seal on the Ghost Mountains there if you want," said Relma. "Just open up the sea lanes. Sorn is neutral anyway, so they can interfere with any invasion from Antion."


    "How will that help the situation?" asked Vrengar.


    "As soon as you do it, everyone will panic," said Relma. "They''ll want to make sure the sea can''t invade them, and everyone will want to make a plan. I can use their fear to negotiate a mutual treaty that can protect all of them.


    "Chaos can lead to destruction, but it can also lead to renewal.


    "But I need you to intercede on my behalf. Without you, Vanessa and the others will constantly be trying to put the knife into me. There will probably be a civil war in your Empire that will get a lot of people killed."


    "And what makes you think you can succeed in this?" asked Vrengar.


    "I created a council. It has Lucius Alchara, Adrian Wrynncurth, Fairy Queen Isriath, the Dusk Elves, and Escor," said Relma. "This, when all of them were hostile to me. And I did it without making war on anyone besides Lucius, who attacked me first.


    "And if I''m wrong, I get assassinated, and you don''t have to worry about me anymore."


    Vrengar paused and turned back to her with a smile. "...Good answer.


    "Very well, I shall grant you my blessing. It was taxing to maintain the sea wall perpetually, anyway. However, if you fail, I shall not do anything to aid you."


    "I wasn''t expecting you to," said Relma.


    She''d call this a partial victory, at least. And something was always better than nothing. Even a bad thing can be made good. Now, she just had to get home.

 Chapter 1 - Prologue: The Tomb

    "Wake up, dear. We have things to do."


    Light was scarce. Dark was everywhere.


    A man opened his eyes for the first time in ages and could see nothing within the bleak surroundings. And in them, he felt only utter desolation. He was lying on what felt like marble, cold to the touch, and wondered how long he had lain in near death? The question bothered him as he stepped off the marble. He set one bare foot down onto slippery flagstones.


    Even as he did, he heard whispers from the edge of the darkness. There were voices from eldritch things he could not perceive. Would he know them if he looked upon them and feared them no more? Or would his terror grow, as what little more could be known of them only grew their shadow?


    His sight returned to see almost nothing at all in the shadows. Yet he could see evidence of ancient Harlenorian stonework. The air here was musty and old and filled with heaviness. It made breathing difficult. The man could remember very little, only that he''d fought a dark figure with gleaming blue eyes. It had been a terrible struggle, he thought. He had not fallen there but instead lingered on for a time. The thought wasn''t reassuring, and his feet stumbled as he walked. Finally, consciousness returned, and realization dawned.


    "I am not dead." His voice spoke the thought, and he noticed, he did not even recognize it. Had he been dead? Was that why he could not remember anything?


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    Where was he? Did it even matter where he was or when he was? This place seemed beyond time or space, a singular moment echoing through eternity. Just as the actions of each person in the tapestries of fate reflected.


    In his hand was a long black sword, gleaming with a red light, the only reason he could see. What concerned him more was that he was shirtless. It was freezing in this place, and he shuddered. He''d have to find warmth. Then, finally, a semblance of memory returned to him. He raised the Black Sword, muttering an incantation of power under his breath. As soon as he spoke, the sword burst into a red flame, and his arms and chest felt the heat. The fire illuminated a sizeable round chamber with crimson light. The dust was swept away, and no moss could be perceived on the black flagstones, though it was wet.


    Gazing over the walls and ceilings, the man observed many images painted over the walls. Armies marched across a river as great battles were waged for glory and honor. Friends bled out their life upon the fields and returned in a monstrous new form. All were in elaborate detail. There were long journeys stretching across oceans and over mountains. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Over time, he realized that he was looking at many interconnected stories. Many people were in multiple tales, but one figure was always present- a tall knight with long flaxen hair wields a black sword and holy magic to defend the innocent. That knight came to a bitter end. He faced a shadowy figure with black claws, wings like a dragon, and glowing blue eyes.


    It was a pattern, and each reading built on the others so that one understood it better each time. And with understanding came terror and wonder.


    He was that knight. And this was his story.

 Chapter 2 - One: Leaving Home

    Mother had always wished for a daughter, but William had never been able to meet her expectations.


    William had known it his entire life. He''d seen it in her disappointed glances as she trained, her blonde hair flowing. But he couldn''t think of that right now; he had to train in the art of music.


    He scarcely heard the music of his minstrel''s harp. The white garb was loose around his hands as he strummed the instrument. Blonde hair fell over his shoulders as Rusara watched beneath a dark hood and green eyes. The cavernous hall he was in seemed to warp and mutate the sounds. William kept his eyes away from the skeletal figures carved in stone on the high ceilings above. He hated this room with a passion.


    The fire burned low in the hearth, but his hands were still cold. So why did Lady Rusara insist on having her lessons here? There were many smaller, better rooms. So why did Rusara always insist on the most unpleasant one?


    William had grown to hate these stones around him.


    But it hardly mattered. No one questioned Lady Rusara except Father; he''d been gone for years. Even Mother wouldn''t dare.


    "You''re thinking too deeply," said Lady Rusara, brushing a strand of blonde hair from William''s face with one gray-skinned hand. You haven''t touched the strings of your harp."


    William rose and looked at his harp, carefully carved and fit for his hand. William loved his harp, but it was getting small for him. He hadn''t realized he''d drifted off. "I''m sorry, Rusara. I''m... I''m not in a good state of mind."


    "That doesn''t matter," said Rusara, pulling down her hood. "Someday, your life may rely on your ability to play the harp. If you have not practiced, where will you be, then?" She paused to draw a small strip of dried meat and offered it to the crow on her shoulder, Skullcracker. Skullcracker snapped it up and flew up to land on the rafters.


    "Dead, I suppose," said William.


    "Exactly," said Rusara, "now start again."


    William played once more. His hands felt unnatural as he plucked the strings. The proper melody always eluded him, no matter how he tried to make music. The task was difficult to master at the best of times. It was far harder than swordplay, but he much preferred the music.


    "Passable," said Rusara, "you need work and ought to be a bit less stiff. If you fear failing, you are more likely to make mistakes."


    "I''m nothing like Mother, am I?" asked William.


    "That may not be as bad a thing as you think," said Rusara. "Every person is different, William, and few are exactly like the people who bore them. You have Azgora''s hair and strength, but your eyes you take from your father¡ªthat and much of your personality."


    "Father is a great hero," said William thoughtfully. "He''s a victor of many battles. But I''m not like him."


    "You don''t have to be," said Rusara with a smile. "A person may serve their nation, people, and god in many ways. Vanion didn''t think much of his chances either. He was only a passable warrior at the best of times. Yet his cunning turned him into a great leader. So continue to improve yourself; you may be great one day."


    "I don''t want to be great," admitted William. "Is that why Mother hates me?" Would that he could gain anything from her but scorn. Yet he served little purpose in this place, held back long after all the others had gone.


    "Azgora doesn''t hate you," said Rusara. "I''ve seen her when she hates someone, and it''s altogether different. She is unsure of how to react to you. She was very set in her ways when I first met her, with clear expectations. Vanion defied those expectations, and that attracted him to her.


    "I think she wanted to tame him. Not that it worked, and it threw her into doubt when she bore a son instead of a daughter. Her people are very different from-"


    "I know," said William, "she never stops talking about it!"


    "Don''t use that tone with me," hissed Rusara, violet eyes flashing. "I am talking."


    William shivered as Skullcracker cawed in what might have been laughter. "I''m sorry, Lady Rusara; please continue."


    "I was mostly finished," admitted Rusara. "Don''t lose sleep over it. Seek to excel as best you can in all ways; sooner or later, she should come around." She looked up at the table and set aside the scarf she had been knitting. "The sands in the hourglass have nearly run their course. You''d best get on your way and meet with Raynald at the front gate. You know how he despises coming to get you."


    "I only got caught reading in Father''s library once," objected William.


    "Then you''d best not make it twice," laughed Rusara. "Get going."


    William set down the harp and slipped out of the chamber into one of the black stone halls of Carn Gable. He felt a familiar presence around him, but he could see no one. He looked down the hallway behind him. "Felix, you don''t have the skulk like a thief."


    Felix emerged from the shadows, his dark skin having blended with them. The red-eyed boy sighed. "I need the practice. So are we going to meet Raynald this time? Or the library?"


    "Raynald," said William.


    "Good," said Felix, "I don''t like it when you break the schedule. I get blamed for it."


    They made their way through the torchlit halls. From there, they walked down a flight of stairs and out the keep''s doors into the courtyard. There, the pages and squires were practicing under Raynald''s watchful eye. He was leaning against the wall near one of the front gates. His withered right arm turned away, his orange hair growing a bit long.


    Only the hand and the steel ring on it could be seen. He was flipping his serrated sword into the air, then catching it with practiced ease with his good hand. There was another instructor there, of course ¡ª a woman named Maria.


    What was going on?


    Whatever it was, Raynald must have spotted them out of the corner of his eye. He gave William a crooked smile and stood straight to his formidable height. "Ah, William," he said before turning an evil eye to Felix, "and the Calishan. I was hoping you''d arrive on time today.


    "Why does everyone keep acting as if I''m always late?" asked William. "I''m not."


    "I could argue against that," mused Raynald. "Follow me. Also, pick up those packs lying by the wall. We''re going up into the highlands, and we''ll need supplies."


    "Couldn''t we just have it out here?" asked William.


    "Sometimes you need to walk before you get the chance to fight," said Raynald. "This will help you get used to traveling. Why, you always ask? The answer is always the same."


    "The last time I asked that, we just had it out here," William firmly believed in forthright honesty.


    "Hmm, you may be right," Raynald admitted. I''d better cut that out. Let''s go."


    They made their way out of the looming gates and onto the road. The spring air was chill, as it usually was this time of year, and the winds were strong. Gusts were blowing their hair around them. Farmers were planting cabbages, potatoes, onions, and many others. William felt pity for them, for it had been a more brutal winter than usual. The wind was howling in his ears, and it stung a bit.


    After a time, Raynald broke off the road and led them into the trees. Soon, they went up into the hills, clambering up huge stones. William wondered where exactly they were heading. He had a few guesses based on their direction. The trees around them protected them from the wind and their cloaks, but it was still cold. Their breath became visible as they scaled higher into the hills. William pulled his cloak closer around him.


    Finally, they came out of the tree and found themselves at the base of a tower. It was at the peak of one of the hills. There was a sharp look to it. It was like a black knife that had stabbed up through the earth to loom above all the world in silent threat. Once, William had stood at the top of that tower and gazed upon all the surrounding lands.


    Looking back, one could see the castle of Carn Gable. It was a fortress of fierce outlines and jagged towers. It looked like a tiny model on a fake landscape from this height. It was the sort Raynald had used when teaching battle strategy. The many farms and villages that surrounded it seemed insignificant. When he had first gazed on them from on high, William had wondered if that was how the gods saw such things.


    He''d been up here once or twice before, and the majesty of the place never lessened.


    Raynald turned to him and flourished his sword with practiced skill. The air seemed to scream in agony as the blade cut it. He smiled. "Draw your sword, William. You are under attack."


    William drew his sword, and then he had no more time to think, for he was too busy fighting. Raynald unleashed a series of jabs and lunges with his sword that William barely parried. The onslaught drove him further and further back. Finally, slowing his retreat, William tried to go on the offensive.


    Then Raynald made a scarcely perceptible movement with his blade. William''s weapon went spinning from his hand. Raynald was slow to bring his sword in for the kill, and William rolled away to catch the blade as it fell. Raynald took a defensive stance with a smile. His mentor loved battle; he always had.


    William rushed at him and struck Raynald. Unfortunately, his blade turned, and he lost his sword again. William felt the serrated sword at his chest. He looked back and saw that his sword had plunged its blade into the ground. Raynald motioned to it, and William went to grab it.


    "Better," said Raynald, "yet not good enough. Again."


    It was a typical session with Raynald. Defeating him was impossible. As his skills increased, William found he could last longer, even take the offensive. But Raynald fought godlike, always seeking to slash and lunge. He could never get a tie with Raynald no matter how he improved. He didn''t understand why Raynald hadn''t given up on him.


    Raynald had told William a thousand stories about great battles. He, Rusara, Father, and later, Mother had fought many of them and gone on many adventures. They were inspiring and a joy to listen to. But, none of this made said training any less painful.


    Of course, he was never hurt¡ªRaynald was far too skilled for that¡ªbut he often got bruises. Raynald would sometimes rap him with the flat of his blade to remind him of some mistake or oversight. He was almost always sporting these; he had another by the time one batch healed. William did the best he could, but Raynald was a relentless teacher.


    As always, Felix watched, sitting on a rock with his head propped up in his hands. He looked very bored, of course, but William knew he was judging him. He didn''t like the fact.


    When they finally stopped for the day, William gasped for breath. Raynald didn''t even look winded. As the withered-armed man sheathed his sword, his smile dimmed. "You''ve advanced well, William. You haven''t been slacking as much." Then Raynald looked up to Felix. Calishan! Bring the bags; we''ll eat now."


    Felix obeyed without question. William felt a surge of resentment towards Raynald. It didn''t seem fair to treat Felix this way. It wasn''t his fault he''d been born of an inferior race. Even so, he didn''t say anything. Raynald was much older and more experienced than him, and it was not proper to question him.


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    They had rations for their meal, which soldiers used in the field. They were dry, chewy, and stuck in the throat. William hated them. When Raynald introduced him to them, he''d had trouble keeping them down. However, over time, he''d learned to tolerate them just as he''d learned to accept sleeping on the ground. Not that he''d ever had a chance to use these talents at this rate.


    Felix, as always, ate some distance away from Raynald so he did not have to look at him. He also remained silent. Raynald didn''t like it when Calishans talked in his presence.


    "You have a real talent for the blade," said Raynald, sipping from his waterskin. "Though your lack of enthusiasm is a problem. One day, you may become a great warrior. And I''m not interested if you don''t want to be one; there comes a time in every noble''s life when he has to fight. So you''re better off preparing for the day than wishing it will never come."


    "I wasn''t going to say anything," said William.


    "You usually do," noted Raynald. "Perhaps I am getting through to you."


    "You''ve been saying things like this to me every few weeks since we started," said William. "I''d have to be thick not to absorb some of it."


    "Fair enough," said Raynald. Then his expression grew somber, "William, there is something you should know."


    "Yes?" asked William.


    "Your Father sent me a letter," said Raynald. "He wants me to head for Artarq. He''s afraid that Baltoth will start an invasion. There are signs of troops moving on the borders. Since he''s governor, he''ll need all the help he can get defending the place.


    "Rusara and I are both going."


    "You''ll be back, won''t you?" asked William, not liking the idea.


    "Sooner or later, yes," said Raynald, though it could be some time. I need you to keep practicing with your blade in the meantime. I expect Azgora will have Maria keep instructing you, so you''ll have to take the lessons seriously. I know you don''t like violence, but it''s bound to be a part of your life."


    "I will," said William. "I promise."


    "I''ll hold you to that," said Raynald. "If I get back here and find you''ve slacked off again, I''ll remove it from your hide. Understand me?"


    "Yes, sir," said William, believing him.


    "Good," said Raynald. "Now, I have a letter for you as well." He drew a sealed scroll from a bag and offered it to William. Taking it, William unrolled the scroll and looked over it.


    "My son,


    I have heard that your studies have progressed less quickly than I would have liked. As the son of a Duke, you are honor-bound to set an example that others might follow. Therefore, this tendency to laziness, which I have discerned, is improper.


    From this point forward, I expect you to put your total effort into everything asked of you. You are the most recent in a long and illustrious line of nobility. Start acting like it.


    Sincerely yours,


    Your Father, Duke Vanion Gabriel, Governor of Artarq.


    P.S.: Forgive me if I seem harsh. However, this is a grave matter, and I am very trying. Don''t be too hard on yourself unless it will improve your unacceptable results."


    It could have been a blow in the face. William couldn''t leave it like this; he had to improve. But then Raynald was going away, too. Was this because of him?


    Raynald looked at him in sympathy but said nothing.


    They finished their meal in silence. William looked up and realized it was late in the day. Dark clouds were gathering overhead, and he wondered if it might snow. Raynald had spoken of Artarq, where it hardly ever snowed at all. The idea was strange to him.


    "We''d best get back to Carn Gable," said Raynald. "Azgora doesn''t like you going missing."


    The journey back could have been more uneventful. The three travelers'' pace was faster, and they took a different route. Their path went by the village near Carn Gable. In the village square, they saw Rusara sitting on a stump. She was surrounded by village children, with whom she was telling a story. As they drew nearer, William heard the end of it.


    "-and then, the trap door would have opened at the moment..." She motioned with her hands, and the children gasped. "...the spell wore off. Everyone realized it had been the knight, and the real villain was still at large.


    "There was a great battle after that, with many brave deeds. But, unfortunately, that story will have to wait for another time."


    "Why didn''t they just take the castle by force?" asked a boy.


    Rusara smiled. "No one has ever seized that castle by force. At the time, the depths of the Duke''s treachery were unknown. Yet with cunning, the knight turned the demon''s ambitions to good while denying him his prize."


    William shifted in unease as he heard the story. He knew who the knight, the Duke, and the demon were. Rusara might not have said their names, but he''d heard that story, the real version, from her many times. It was enough to know that she was changing it for dramatic effect.


    "What happened to the demon?" asked a girl.


    "Well, he was furious," said Rusara. "But he dared not attack the knight while being so well guarded. And now, everyone was wise as to what he was up to. So he fled back into his dark land to plot his revenge. To this day, he has not been heard from." She stood up and made for them. "One moment, children. Raynald, William, I see you are back."


    "That isn''t the story I remember," noted Raynald.


    "Of course, it''s not," said Rusara with a smile. "The real thing was far too anticlimactic. I had to do something to make it interesting again." She paused and glanced back. "Why don''t you three go on ahead? I''ll meet up with you later."


    "Right," said Raynald, "let''s go, William."


    The sun was sinking into the distance when they reached the gates of Carn Gable. They opened before them like a hungry maw. Adding to this image was the gatehouse in the shape of a human skull. The two bonfires kept burning in the arrow slits that were the eyes helped, too. The walls looked like rows of jagged teeth all lined up, just for effect.


    "I have never understood why Erik the Voyager chose this place," muttered William. "I mean, it''s my home, but it used to be a domain of the Withering. You''d think he''d have destroyed every stone of it."


    "And waste a good castle?" asked Raynald in amusement. "Erik the Voyager was not a fool."


    They found Lady Azgora waiting for them on the other side. She was clad in polished steel armor and held a round shield in her left hand. On her right was a long spear, and on her head was a helmet that obscured her face. Her long flaxen hair was falling around her shoulders in waves. She looked magnificent in her armor. William felt slightly scared as they approached. He hoped he had not done something to anger her.


    "Mother," he said, "I''m sorry we were out so late, but-"


    "Silence," said Azgora.


    William shut his mouth as Mother regarded Raynald. "So you return, Witherarm."


    Anyone else would have been dead where they stood after calling him that. Raynald had killed men for less. William knew well the love of Father prevented Raynald from striking her down. Mother knew how such words infuriated him and chose to bait him.


    "Well," said Raynald, "someone has to raise your son."


    "I will raise him however I see fit," said Mother. "Now, I would speak with him alone. Leave us." She looked at Felix. "You as well, young Felix."


    "By all means," said Raynald, brushing past her.


    Felix paused a moment and bowed his head. "Lady Azgora." Then he moved on.


    Azgora led William to one side and looked at him hard. William shuddered as he looked at the cold and gray eyes behind that helmet. The shadows made them seem even more menacing than they usually were. Then Mother planted her spear in the ground and removed the helmet with one hand, holding it under her arm.


    For a long time, there was silence between them. Then, "I have noted you are no longer abstaining from your lessons." Mother said. "That is... good."


    "I don''t want to disappoint you, Mother," said William. How many times were people going to bring that up?


    "You have not entirely." Mother assured him before lapsing into silence again. "Among my people..." Here it came. "Men are not trained to fight. I have never understood why things should be so different here. You do not have the right temperament for war. Even so, you are a member of Harlenor''s warrior elite. It was unbefitting of one of your stations to evade lessons."


    "Yes, Mother." What did she want from him again?


    Azgora looked around before turning her attention back to him. "Rusara''s lessons are more things which people of your kind should be worried about. Harlenor is a strange place, so you must adapt."


    "It isn''t strange to me," said William, clenching his fist. Why did Mother pretend as if this place wasn''t his homeland? He''d never even been to Themious. Nor did he wish to go there.


    Azgora missed his tone entirely. "Yes, I suppose it is not. You have never been home. Truly home." Her eyes grew distant as she looked at the sunset. "You have never seen the Temple of Zeya as it stands upon the cliffs overlooking the bay of Acoria. Nor have you seen true warriors at work. Rather, you have seen the mockery of martial prowess in this place."


    "Raynald seems a fine warrior," said William, letting defiance seep into his tone. Why did she pretend this faraway place was much better than his home?


    "I don''t doubt Witherarm is dangerous in his own right," said Mother. "I have fought him only once, and he was a formidable adversary. But, even so, no divine power runs through his veins, and so he will never be as mighty as you or I might be. In Acoria, cripples like him are left to the wolves."


    "His family tried to do that to him," said William. "The wolves brought him back. I don''t think I''m all that different from anyone else. How can I know? I''ve never even left Carn Gable. I don''t want to, but I should at some point."


    "The time for that has not yet come," said Mother. "For now, continue your studies."


    "Raynald," said William, emphasizing the name, "just told me Father is calling him away. There is a war brewing in Artarq."


    "I know; the message came to me first," said Azgora. "I am glad Vanion is calling Raynald to his aid. It will be good to be rid of that cripple. And, fortunately, war should come to these lands before the people grow too complacent."


    "A lot of people will get killed," said William. "There doesn''t seem to be anything fortunate about that to me."


    Mother smiled fondly. "Your tenderness of heart befits your gender, but not a member of the warrior elite. Wars are a chance to win immortality; otherwise, one would fade into the mists of time. Only in battle are vices and virtues brought out in full. There, we may know each other''s true nature.


    "War is a magnificent and glorious thing. I cannot understand how your father puts so much thought into avoiding it."


    "You sound like Raynald," said William.


    "Do not compare me with Witherarm," said Mother sternly. "He is a wounded creature. The disabled are a burden upon the healthy. One that should be thrown off."


    "Raynald is the greatest warrior in all of Harlenor," said William. "Why are you always mocking him?" S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "This is a question that I have asked many times," said Rusara, appearing behind Mother. "Were you not protected by Vanion, there would have been blood between you years ago."


    "One exception does not change the rule," said Mother. "And I am speaking to my son."


    "That alarms me," said Rusara. "To my mind, all living things have the potential for great good and immense evil. In a thousand small ways, all things advance both causes."


    Azgora and Rusara''s gaze met in silent challenge. Mother loomed tall over Rusara, but the latter had the higher authority. Rusara was small, even for a Dust Elf. Yet she faced down a princess of the Amazons. It was the princess who looked away first.


    Azgora hid the motion by turning back to William. "Bear in mind what I have said. You have a higher destiny."


    Then she moved away. Skullcracker cawed from one of the battlements.


    "She is in a good mood today, isn''t she?" mused Rusara.


    "When will you and Raynald leave for Artarq?" asked William.


    "Soon," said Rusara, "perhaps in the next few days. But, of course, it depends on when we can get a ship, so I came looking for you. I would like you to go with us.


    William got a sinking feeling when she mentioned this. "Me?" he asked, "Go with you to Artarq?"


    "Don''t be a coward," said Rusara. "Weren''t you saying how you wanted to see the world outside this place? So, instead, Azgora would have you remain here until she ships you to wherever she wants you to go.


    "I''ve never understood the appeal of destiny. If our choices are preordained, what is the purpose of making them? Where was I?"


    "Leaving Carn Gable," said William, the idea of it gaining some appeal. "Can I take Felix with me?"


    "Yes, yes, of course," said Rusara. "He is your servant, after all, and Vanion did assign him to you."


    "But shouldn''t we tell Mother?" asked William. "We ought to get her permission."


    "She''ll never give it," said Rusara. "If you want to see the outside world, this is your chance. Take it or leave it. I''m not going to force the issue. Far better to leave with her none the wiser and have her find you suddenly gone.


    "I''d love to see the look on her face."


    "Could I at least write her a letter explaining where I''m going?" asked William. I could leave one in my room so that she doesn''t worry."


    "If you wish," said Rusara, "Now, let''s not breathe a word of this to anyone. If you want to join us, have Felix find us your answer. Then we''ll make arrangements."


    William felt this could be the beginning of a great and terrible adventure. He didn''t like the idea at all, but he was a member of the warrior elite and had to act like it. Everyone wanted him to be bold and seek out adventures, so he ought to.


    Shouldn''t he?


    Even so, the whole thing boded poorly either way.


    Later, he tried playing chess against Felix to ease his troubled mind. It didn''t go well at all.


    "Checkmate," said William in a dull tone. "You let me win, as usual."


    "I am your servant," said Felix with a grin. "I''m not allowed to beat you at anything."


    "Come off it. You''re just doing it to annoy me," said William, standing up.


    William went to the far wall to look at a large map of the three Harlenorian Kingdoms. The island of Haldren is to the north, Escor is to the southwest across the channel, and Antion is to the southeast. Once, they had been one kingdom, united, but that was long ago. Reuniting the nation had been the dream of many, and none had yet achieved it.


    He traced a finger from Antion, then east into the elven reservations, north through Seathorius, and northwest along the shore until he reached the province of Artarq. On the opposite side of a great river lay Calisha in the east. If he did, Baltoth would attack Artarq first.


    "If I go with Raynald and Rusara," realized William. "I may end up in a war."


    "That does seem a fair statement of the obvious," noted Felix. He had begun playing chess against himself. He was winning handily.


    "But if I stay here, I''ll just stay here forever," said William. "And anyway, everyone thinks me a coward. If I don''t take this chance, they may be right. I have to go. It is my duty."


    "You are listening too much to Raynald and Rusara," said Felix. "They want you to come with them so they can spite Lady Azgora, and you know it."


    "What do you think I should do?" asked William.


    "Stay here," said Felix. "You''re fourteen; I''m fifteen. We''re not of age to fight in wars. Your father would agree with me."


    William considered telling Raynald and Rusara that right to their faces, but he decided he had too much respect for them to do so. They believed he ought to get out, and they were here while Father was not. He didn''t like danger but wanted to see new things and knew he had to go now or never. He could not say where and when it would end, but he desired it.


    He wrestled with it momentarily, then realized he had not seen his father in almost two years. The Lord of Carn Gable had left on duties one day and has yet to return. His only contact with him had letters. He wanted to speak with him again about something, anything. William didn''t want to go without seeing Father any longer. That tipped the scales.


    "Go to Rusara," said William. "Tell her I''m coming with her and Raynald."


    "Great," said Felix as he stood up, "but when all this goes to hell, I want to say I warned you."


    "You have my permission," said William.


    "All right then," said Felix. "I''ll be back."


    As Felix walked out the door, William sat down and wondered what he had gotten into.

 Chapter 3 - Two: What Lies in the Mist

    Writing a letter to Mother was far more complicated than William had expected. For one thing, he was having second thoughts. The office, his Father''s office once, was a small place with lots of books and papers he''d read for ages. The ink and parchment were something he was well-acquainted with writing. Most nobility was, and William was well-educated by their standards. Often, Father had entertained guests here. The old Duke Garath, William''s grandfather, had compiled some of the most extensive records in Haldren.


    There had been little else to do. House Gabriel''s fortunes had been on the wane after losing the Escorian Civil War. What ought to have been Erik the Voyager''s great triumph became his final humiliation. One of the greatest heroes of his era, the old man had to flee to Haldren to regroup. As an old man, he and his descendants had served in the name of Haldren. The Kings of this Land had been waning, but House Gabriel had proved critical in stopping the decay. And at last, they were awarded Gel Carn, a rocky and defensible realm north of House Telus. But, unfortunately, they were meant to be vassals.


    But Father would never be a vassal again, not since the Duke had returned with Mother as a bride. He had returned before all the rest of his companions. House Gabriel''s star was rising through political maneuvering and brilliant military feats. And William had been left outside until now. He did not want to be involved in the wars nor to win great glory for his house.


    In the old days, writing was a rare skill, but with the rise of King Andoa, I had seen Antion become dominant. And Andoa II had picked up where he left off and arranged tutors for the nobility.


    Rusara had put a hand to all of that. She habitually taught people around Harlenor how to write and tell stories. Still, William wondered if his desire to see Father again would be well received. However, he''d already told Raynald and Rusara he was coming, so he didn''t feel proper backing out now. Also, he wanted to see the world outside, even if he feared it.


    Now, he sat in his room, writing a draft as best he could; his doubts ran through his mind. Eventually, he finished his letter and set down his quill. Then, drawing up the parchment, he read it to himself and threw it into the fire in disgust. Then, taking up another sheet of paper, he started writing again.


    This was his fifth draft.


    "I can''t believe you are going along with this," said Felix.


    "Rusara and Raynald know best, I''m sure," said William, only half believing it himself. "Besides, Tanith left Carn Gable at about this age?"


    "Tanith was of the Telus family," said Felix. "They are of lower rank than you. Have you forgotten House De Chevlon used to be House Gabriel''s archenemy? There was an entire war fought in Escor between your families. Rusara was on the De Chevlon''s side."


    "That was a long time ago, Felix," said William. "No one is still holding a grudge about that. Least of all, Raynald." This was a gross exaggeration at best, but it was polite.


    "The slaughter of Anoa the Bright''s heirs was long ago," muttered Felix. "Yet everyone still hates Calishans." Anoa the Bright was the most excellent King in the world. Or at least the most outstanding war leader, depending on who you asked. Father regarded Anoa as a kind of necessary destructive force. A forest fire clears out the deadwood of the decadent old world. The elves hated him because they had run that world. But humanity was forever in his debt, and he''d been the one who led to the Halfling''s rise to prominence. As a result, his name was universally feared.


    But that was long ago. The sense of politics had changed, and the all-out conflict was gone forever. The orcs were exterminated, and the goblins were dead. The giants stuck to their hills, and the dragons had gone into banking. And to the east, under the hand of Baltoth, lay Calisha.


    Calisha was the greatest empire the world had ever seen.


    Calisha was the most terrible fighting force that had ever been witnessed. Whose soldiers never retreated without orders and who died with her name on their lips.


    Calisha was where criminals met with swift and brutal retribution on the cross. It was ruled by a barbaric and calculating Emperor Baltoth, who brutally kept command.


    Calisha, the Empire that the Heir of Kings, the descendant of Anoa the Bright, would destroy.


    William was not the Heir of Kings. He''d kept careful track of his lineage and was unrelated to Anoa in any way, shape, or form. It had been quite disappointing to him. His family had been more or less obscure. That was before Erik the Voyager brought House Gabriel''s star into the ascent. But Mother had been quite firm that his destiny lay west in the distant lands of Themious. William knew nothing about Themious, and he did not care about Themious in the slightest.


    It was a realm of mighty Amazons, feuding city-states, and great warrior women. But there were plenty of great warriors here in Haldren. Some of the greatest were under this roof now. And what William had learned of the history demonstrated an inability to organize. There were no Great Themosian empires, simply regional hegemonies. Acoria, where he was descended, was the greatest. But Mother had kept it all secret, and William was not interested anyway.


    If she intended to keep it a mystery, let it remain a mystery until the time was right. William was no longer waiting for his destiny.


    The wars of the east were where he would earn glory. No one in Harlenorian cared about Themious, so neither did he.


    He finally finished writing the letter and looked at it, feeling satisfied. Or at least as much as one can be when explaining why one has left without the leave of one''s parents. Father might disapprove of his actions, but Father was never here.


    "What do you think of this?" asked William before reading aloud;


    "Mother,


    "I am going with Raynald and Rusara to Artarq. I need to see more of the outside world. I have carefully considered this decision. Raynald is one of the finest swordsmen in Harlenor, and Rusara is a powerful sorceress. I am safe.


    "Signed,


    "Your son, William Gabriel."


    "Short, to the point, a pack of lies and ultimately futile," mused Felix. "You haven''t considered this decision or wouldn''t be making it. Second, you are only doing this because Rusara told you as part of her ongoing campaign to spite Lady Azgora. Third, you are only partially safe; travel always has risks, no matter how you are guarded. And lastly, she will be angry no matter what you do.


    "You might as well not write this letter for all the good it will do you."


    "Well, I have written it," said William, "I will leave it for her. Have you gotten the packs and things together?" He set the parchment on the desk by the window to see it.


    "Of course," said Felix, hoisting a pack over one shoulder, "we can go at any time."


    "Then let''s get to it," said William. "Before our resolve falters."


    "Resolve?" asked Felix. "Do I have a choice in any of this?"


    "Not really," admitted William, "be glad Father pulled most of our men to Artarq. Otherwise, we''d never be able to sneak out of here."


    Tanith had won great glory out there in the world. She had sacked many Calishan towns alongside Prince Aris and Eitrigg. Her letters were often sent to him and others. She often described the fortifications and shorelines, though her pen had become bloodthirsty. She was fond of Calishan women and had good relations with her companions. That and several others she''d written up. Would that he had been able to fight in raids from Estal. William would love to meet Tanith again someday.


    They slipped out of their room and entered the nearly empty torchlit halls. Evading the guards was simple enough, much to William''s relief. He wanted to avoid explaining to the guards where they were going with travel packs and swords. So they got to the bottom floor and into the courtyard without incident.


    As soon as they got out, they saw Mother standing on the wall by the gatehouse. She was speaking to Maria. Mother got on well with most of the soldiers; it was why Father could leave her in charge.


    "A beautiful view, is it not, Maria?" asked Lady Azgora.


    "Yes, Lady Azgora, it is," answered Maria.


    "Sometimes, we miss things in all the scurrying to and fro. We don''t stop long enough to appreciate beauty while it is there," said Azgora. "Take those flowers down there. They bloom for a time, then fade and die. We''ll never get another chance to see them."


    "But others like them will come when the gods will it," noted Maria.


    "Yes, but will they be the same?" asked Azgora. "Look at any flower, and you''ll find that no two are alike. Yet all of them fade and die. As everything does."


    "The gods don''t fade, Lady Azgora," said Maria.


    "Not to us," conceded Azgora. "But I wonder if even goddesses and gods may grow old and wither in some far-off time. They have the shape of mortals, do they not?"


    "Perhaps we have their shape," suggested Maria.


    "Yes, it might be the other way around," mused Azgora.


    They fell silent and stood where they were, staring out over a view that neither of the two boys could see. So typical; Mother had never had this kind of conversation with him. William tapped Felix on the shoulder.


    "We''ll be caught for sure if we go through the gate," said William. "Let''s scale the wall and climb down that way."


    "I didn''t bring any rope," said Felix.


    "Then we''ll do it by hand," said William. "It''s not that hard."


    "Easy for you to say," said Felix.


    They crept up the stairs and came to the battlements. William quickly got on top of one of the crenulations and gradually lowered himself. The surface looked smooth, but he knew where the footholds were from years of climbing it. William was glad the Furbearers who constructed Carn Gable were worse stonemasons. It made climbing easier. Any recent fortress would have been far more challenging to scale.


    As he reached the base of the wall, he looked up. Felix was coming down much more slowly, looking uncomfortable. He''d never had William''s natural talent for it.


    "Would you hurry up?" asked William.


    "I can''t climb as fast as you," hissed Felix. "I''m human, not an ape in human form."


    "What''s an ape?" asked William. "Do you mean that elvish slur the Urishia used to use?" The Urishia had been the former rulers of Calisha in all but name. They''d administered everything on the part of Valranor.


    Then Baltoth and Anoa started killing people, which all evaporated quickly.


    "Um... It''s not a slur," Felix paused, "they are sort of humanoid creatures, but with hair. They are very good at climbing trees and cliffs. I read about them before Duke Vanion freed me. They live in the jungles of Dinis, the Far East. Now quiet; I''m climbing."


    Felix reached the bottom after a bit more work, and they made their way along the edge of the wall. The village they were to meet Rusara and Raynald. It was about a mile away, with many thatched houses built of stone. They were sure to be spotted if they went straight on for it. William looked to Felix, then to the edge of the trees about half a mile to their left.


    "We''ll head for that forest," said William. "Once we''re there, we''ll follow along the road, then make for the village once we get near. Anyone who sees us from the walls may not recognize us from that distance."


    "Whatever you say," said Felix without much enthusiasm.


    They made for the forest. As they ran, William felt his heart beating. He was afraid someone on the walls would look up and notice them with every passing moment. No call went out, and the trees drew nearer and nearer. Finally, they passed the eaves of the forest and halted for breath.


    William found he was smiling despite himself. His journey had only begun, but escaping without being noticed was exciting. He felt a little foolish thinking like that. Felix could have been more enthusiastic.


    "Can we please turn back now?" asked Felix.


    "Come now, after all that?" asked William. "You want it to be for nothing?"


    "More or less," admitted Felix. "I don''t like going behind Lady Azgora''s back like this."


    "Then you ought to have brought it up before," said William.


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    "I did bring it up before," said Felix. "You never listen."


    "Well, it''s too late to go back now," said William. "Come on, let''s keep moving."


    They made their way along the edge of the trees as quickly as possible. The trip itself was more uneventful. Soon enough, they were parallel to the village.


    "Let''s take it slow," said Felix. "No one will recognize us at this distance anyway."


    "You are probably right," admitted William.


    As they made their way towards the village, William risked a look at the walls. He could see no sign of Mother. William hoped that it wasn''t because she had seen them and was coming to drag them back by force. William did not want to see a showdown between her and Rusara.


    They entered the village, and nothing happened. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    They got into the square ¡ª still, nothing. William''s nerves frayed. He had a feeling that their actions would be discovered very soon. He kept glancing behind him. He was expecting to see Mother coming around the corner with a furious look in her eyes.


    "At the least," said Felix, "all the men are out in the fields. On the other hand, the secret may be slow to get out."


    "You certainly took your time," said Rusara behind them.


    William jumped with sudden fright before turning around. How did she do that? He saw Raynald leaning against the far wall behind Rusara, spinning a dagger in one hand. "Mother was on the wall. We had to scale down and go through the forest ways to get here."


    "I suppose the precaution was well-founded," said Rusara. "But it has cost us precious time. Come, let''s get moving. I don''t doubt your absence will soon be discovered, and I''d rather be far from here when that happens. So we''ll head south along the road until we reach the port of Ran Telus."


    They departed the village and made their way along the road. William and Felix had to run several times to keep up with Raynald and Rusara. The party moved very quickly, and their haste proved wise. Just as the village was fading into the horizon, they heard it. It was a cry of unfathomable rage echoing throughout the hills.


    "I think we''d better run," said Raynald.


    They did just that.


    On the fourth day of their journey, they came within sight of Ran Telus. It was a large town of stone houses with shingled roofs. Farmlands stretched out on either side of the road and got denser near the city.


    William looked around as they entered the city gates, taking in the changes. "It''s grown larger," he said. "Several buildings weren''t here the last time we came."


    "Well, that is the way of things," said Rusara. "They grow and shrink, live, and die."


    "Is that statement of the obvious meant to be profound?" asked Felix, forgetting himself for a moment.


    "Be silent, Calishan," snapped Raynald.


    "It''s quite all right, Raynald," said Rusara. "Sometimes, the simplest of realizations are the most profound."


    Felix could have looked more impressed.


    "Do you think Lord Telus will host us?" asked William, remembering a pleasant stay here a few years ago. Well, except for when Tanith cut the ears off that squirrel.


    "We''ll not have time to enjoy his hospitality," said Rusara. "We are still being pursued, as you ought to have remembered. Raynald has arranged a ship to Artarq. Or do you think those few days were idly spent?"


    "Would it surprise you if I said yes?" muttered Felix in a low enough that Raynald could not hear.


    The ship that had been contracted was a large vessel of an older kind. A dragon''s head was on its prow, and it had a bright red sail emblazoned with the symbol of a bull''s head on it. This was fitting since minotaurs crewed it. They attended to various tasks with practiced ease. Their leader, a hulking gray bull with a long white beard, approached Raynald and hugged him. Raynald returned the embrace with his good arm. Then they separated.


    "Lord Raynald," said the minotaur, "we were afraid you would not reach us in time."


    "Is everything arranged, Hrungeld?" asked Raynald.


    "Of course," said the minotaur. "We can leave at any time."


    "Good," said Raynald, glancing back. "William, this is Captain Hrungeld, a friend of mine. He hails from Viokinar. He will be taking us to Artarq."


    "I am glad to meet you," said William. "Your ship is magnificent." But, of course, he knew little enough about ships that he could be completely wrong. Even so, it seemed to please Hrungeld, who clapped him on the back in a move that sent William staggering.


    "It is a source of great pride to my clan," said Hrungeld. "Come, come, all of you aboard! With your permission, we''ll leave at once-" His eyes narrowed on Felix. "What is one of them doing here?"


    "Felix is my servant," said William. "He will be no trouble, I assure you."


    "See to it that he isn''t," said Hrungeld with a glare.


    They boarded the vessel. The gangplank was pulled up, and the ship glided out of the port like a swan. It was amazing how smoothly it moved. The few boats William had been on before had rocked and swung from side to side, but this one was more stable. It was still unpleasant, however.


    As they left the harbor, William approached Raynald. "Raynald, why are we going with these Viokins?"


    "You needn''t fear, William," said Raynald. "Hrungeld is a fine sea captain."


    "I''m sure he is if you say so," said William. "I''ve heard so many stories about the Viokin Minotaurs."


    "Oh, those are all true," said Raynald. "But their days of coastal raiding are long past. Viokinar has problems at home, so they don''t have time to do any raiding."


    William gave up. Looking up, he saw Felix looking back at Ran Telus. He put a hand on his friend''s shoulder. "Are you all right?"


    "Yes," said Felix. "I''ve long since become accustomed to it." He looked a little unsteady, though.


    Then William saw Mother appear on the shore in full armor along with a contingent of guards. There was a gleam as she drew back her spear and then hurled it. There was a moment of silence. Then the spear passed over their heads and impaled itself in the mast. It was mere inches away from Raynald''s head.


    "... We''re too far out to sea to throw a spear at us," said Hrungeld.


    "Perhaps you''d like to tell her that to her face," mused Raynald, quite calm and unmoving.


    Hrungeld reached out with one massive hand and gripped the spear before jerking on it. It didn''t come out. He pulled harder several more times, so the wood groaned, and still, it would not come out. Grabbing it with both hands, he set one foot against the mast and then hauled it with all his might. Still, he has yet to receive results. Finally, Hrungeld stepped back and turned to a gigantic minotaur.


    "Get this spear out of the mast," he said. "It''s in the way."


    The minotaur came forward and tried. It also failed. Thus began an odd assembly as each of the minotaurs came forward to push and pull out the spear. None were able to get it out. Finally, as Ran Telus had become tiny in the distance, Raynald came forward.


    "Step back," Raynald said. "I''ll handle this."


    Hrungeld laughed. "Raynald, you are a mighty warrior. Yet, in sheer strength, a minotaur cannot be matched. What hope-"


    Raynald set his hand to his sword. There was a blur of movement, and he was sheathing his sword, even though no one had seen the blade. A long moment passed, and then the spear fell into seven pieces with only the head remaining in the mast.


    "Ever you surprise us," said Hrungeld. "All right, you bulls, back to work!"


    Over the next few days, they sailed through the Haldrenian channel at a brisk pace. The air became warmer as they went further east, and the sun beat down on them. William did not enjoy himself during this time in the slightest, for he soon became seasick. He spent the next few days in an utterly wretched state, often throwing up over the side. It was much to the minotaur''s amusement.


    When at last he recovered, the air had turned cooler. But a heavy mist was rising up over the sea. It all seemed ominous, and William wasn''t alone in thinking so.


    "Mark my words; it''s bad luck," said a sailor.


    "Work of evil spirits, I''d wager," said another.


    "They seem afraid," noted Felix.


    "I have a bad feeling about this myself," said William. "Let''s go see what Raynald is doing."


    Finding them was tricky, with the mist sweeping over the deck. William found Raynald and Hrungeld standing at the prow, talking. Hrungeld appeared not so much afraid as concerned, while Raynald looked eager.


    "It could be the normal sort of mist," said Hrungeld. "Or it could be some evil force that has decided it wants us to crash on the rocks. Or are they trying to hide an enemy approaching us even now?"


    "Which do you think it is?" asked Raynald.


    "Not sure," admitted Hrungeld. "The satyrs of Seathorius patrol these waters. They seek ships to seize for their demonic god. They have some proper sorcerers among them, worshippers of Melchious. Still, mists of the natural sort can be found anywhere. A proper fight might be a relief after all this suspense."


    Melchious. The name sent a shiver down William''s spine, and he felt like evil eyes were upon him. But, glancing around, he saw nothing. He turned back to Raynald and Hrungeld, who stared across the water.


    "You ever wonder what it would be like to live in a world without sorcery?" asked Raynald. "I mean, you''d still have to deal with regular mists. But when it happened, you''d know there wasn''t some malevolent force behind it."


    "So you could just focus on avoiding the rocks and not getting lost," noted Hrungeld. "Yes, that would be nice. Even so, it would still mean ill fortune. Mists are omens of bad luck; we must not forget that."


    "Perfect," said Raynald, "I hate all this waiting. I haven''t had a good battle in years. An adventure would do everyone some good."


    "I wish I were as confident as you," said Hrungeld. "But I''m not as young as I used to be, and my men and I are unlikely to survive such a venture. We have no special destiny keeping us safe, so you''ll forgive us if we hope against you."


    "I forgive you," laughed Raynald.


    William liked only some of this talk of satyrs and adventure. He''d heard all sorts of horror stories, from how they acted to how they treated their prisoners. The prospect of satyrs who worshipped Melchious appealed even less. The stories of the demon were so many you could fill a thousand tomes with them. And you still need to have them all written down.


    To distract himself, he went to the ship''s opposite side. There, Rusara was staring into the mist. "Lady Rusara, is it true you fought Erik the Voyager?"


    "Yes," said Rusara.


    Silence reigned for a moment as William waited for her to continue. Then, finally, he sighed as he realized she wanted him to ask. "Could you tell me about him?"


    Rusara smiled with memory. "Erik the Voyager was ancient when I fought him. He had handsome features and intense green eyes like you and your Father. But he had a long white beard when I faced him. He was a terrible enemy, killing many people and nearly taking off my head. However, I managed to escape him, and since his side lost the battle, he couldn''t pursue me.


    "He was always viewed as a worthy opponent by us. We hated him bitterly but also respected him. He kept his word, you see."


    "Is that the only reason?" asked William.


    "It is more important than it may seem at first glance," said Rusara. "Oaths are binding in more than one way. To break an oath is to break a part of oneself. It is unforgivable to do in all but the most extreme circumstances.


    "And no one who does so fails to get paid out in full by the end."


    "Surely, some must get away," said William.


    "No one ever really gets away with anything, William," said Rusara. "Oh, you might escape the consequences of your actions for a day or even a lifetime. In the end, however, there is consistent accounting for your sins. More people would only realize it would be a better world.


    "Then again, perhaps not."


    "Satyrs! Portside!" cried a sentry.


    William looked up in terror and rushed with Rusara to the ship''s side. Out of the mist had come a black vessel with black sails. There were designs of skulls on its surface. Its figurehead was that of a screaming woman, her face terrified and her eyes bleeding. Dozens of dirty men with goat legs and long braided beards were aboard. Their hair was wild and unkempt. In their hands were swords and axes, which they waved as they howled and hollered.


    The minotaurs were arming themselves with spears and axes in a frenzy. Several were cheering. Raynald himself stepped forward, naked sword in hand and a broad smile on his face.


    "Finally!" he said. "We''ll see some excitement!"


    William drew his sword and stepped back to stand behind Raynald. He was trying to get as far from the coming battle as possible without making it obvious. He didn''t want to fight. He couldn''t get rid of a lump in his throat or stop his hands from shaking. Cold sweat dripped from his brow. But, no, he steadied himself. He had to get involved. He had an obligation to fight alongside the crew!


    "William," said Raynald as an afterthought, "I want you to stay back and out of the fighting."


    "Yes, Raynald," he said. Thank Elranor. It was all he could do not to praise him out loud.


    Raynald looked annoyed at the quickness of his response. Yet there needed to be more time for conversation. The ship was drawing nearer as they spoke. Then Rusara raised a hand.


    "We don''t have time for this," Rusara said.


    A bolt of green flame shot forth from Rusara''s palm to hit the black ship. The fire soon spread over the boat. William hoped the vessel would be destroyed without having to have a fight. Though the satyrs would probably all die, he didn''t like the idea of anyone dying.


    Then, a great shadow was cast over both ships. A wave arose and quenched the fire. William felt as though some terrible creature was reaching out for him.


    The ships were now sailing parallel with one another. Ropes were thrown by both sides and hauled on to draw the vessels closer together. For a long, terrible moment, they were drawing nearer and nearer. Both sides strained to narrow the gap between them. The satyrs waved their weapons, curved scimitars, and fur, making them like beasts of hell. Across from them, the crew of Hrungeld, minotaurs to the man, held axe and spear. Raynald stood among them, smiling. For a moment, the sound of war cries was everywhere. Then they were side by side, and the satyrs spilled over the deck.


    A minotaur was run through before his killer had his skull cloven by a battleax. Raynald''s blade flashed lazily, and two heads fell from the shoulders of two satyrs. Hrungeld was fighting a satyr with his axe, both sporting bloody wounds. Rusara stepped aside from a lunge. She snapped her fingers and watched as her enemy burned to death, screaming. Then, their ashes were scattered in the wind.


    Then, a satyr bore down on Rusara with a knife, and she fell to the deck, wrestling with the creature. William knew what he had to do. He had to go help her to slay the beasts. But he dared not move; people were dying around him, and his terror grew.


    A dead body hit the deck before him, eyes lifeless and blood-soaked the wood. He shrank back from the corpse with a scream and found himself at the ship''s edge. He looked back and saw the sea churning beneath him.


    Then, a white-furred satyr of enormous size emerged from the fray over the corpse of a minotaur. On his face was a smile, all too like Raynald''s. In his hand was a bloodstained sword. He was coming this way!


    William''s sword fell from his hand, and he rolled away just in time to avoid being grabbed. The white satyr loomed over him, blade in hand. Then Felix rushed at the creature, sword swinging. The beast knocked the weapon from Felix''s hand, spinning it into the sea. Then, grabbing Felix by the collar, the satyr slammed him against the rail and threw him into the sea. Felix did not surface.


    Felix would die if he didn''t do something.


    William vaulted over the ship''s side and dove into the waters below. It was bitterly cold as he descended, trying to hold his breath. He could see Felix sinking into the water. He was not moving. William quickened his strokes, kicking at the water as he did so. Finally, reaching Felix, William tried to pull them both up. His lungs were burning; his boots were filling with water. Kicking them off, he removed Felix''s shoes and then swam upwards.


    William couldn''t hold the air in his lungs any longer! His heart was beating, his legs aching as he kicked to try and get free of the chill around him! He could sense something behind him, and he almost screamed. He could feel something snapping at his heels! Then, they broke through the surface of the waves with a splash, and he gasped for air. Nothing was below him.


    Had he imagined it in his terror?


    It didn''t matter. Felix was still unconscious.


    Why wouldn''t he wake up?


    William realized that the boy must have breathed in the water while sinking. His vision suddenly seemed to become crystal clear. He got behind Felix, putting a hand on his forehead. There was a sensation of something putting its will through him. Then Felix spat out water and pulled himself from William''s grasp.


    "You fool!" said Felix. "Why did you come after me?!"


    "You''re my friend," said William.


    "No, I''m not!" roared Felix. "I''m your servant! Now... where is the ship?"


    Confused, William looked up and around. The mist had arisen anew, and he could see no sign of the ship anywhere. Instead, a distant echo of fighting and screams could still be heard. Yet he could not tell which direction it was coming from. They were alone in the open water, and their ship was gone.

 Chapter 4 - Three: Open Water

    Silence fell over them as they tread water, unsure what to do.


    Now William was grateful Mother had taught him and Felix to swim. If she hadn''t, they would both be as good as dead. Then, a sudden wave splashed over him, driving him away from Felix. He fought his way back through the water. As he did, William realized how dire their situation really was. He looked around, trying to think of what to do.


    "We could try and swim to land," said William finally.


    At this, he thought that Felix would have some biting sarcasm for him. He would likely point out that they needed to learn which way land was.


    "All right," said Felix, "the current is heading that way." He motioned.


    "Which means we should swim at a right angle to it. If we keep that way, we''ll hit land sooner or later."


    "Right," said William, "we''ll do that then."


    They swam through the sea in the direction Felix had motioned, jostled by waves, and chilled by the water. Felix nearly went under several times, and William was terrified he would. Yet he always kept going, and they paddled on. What if Felix could not keep this up? Should William swim down again and try to carry him on his back? William supposed it was the only decent thing he could do.


    He wondered if sharks were swimming beneath him. Or some other carnivorous fish was eyeing them for its next meal. The silence was unbearable, and he wanted something to distract himself. But there was nothing but the mist and the waves. Even worse, this was all his fault. He had been a complete coward, throwing down his weapon and fleeing when he should have fought like a man.


    William should have fought the satyr and killed the dirty thing like Raynald would have done! But, instead, Felix had been forced to rush to his aid. So now they were swimming in the open ocean. They would likely drown or be eaten by horrible things lurking beneath the waves. All because of his cowardice.


    At least they hadn''t seen the Shark Queen yet. They''d be as good as dead if they laid eyes on her.


    "I''m sorry," said William as they swam onwards.


    "For what?" asked Felix, whose strokes were growing weaker.


    "For not fighting," said William, "because of me, you were thrown into the sea."


    "More or less," agreed Felix.


    They did not speak for a while after that.


    Then William''s hopes surged, for the vague shape of the landmass Felix had spoken of came into view. It loomed above them in magnificent brownstone cliffs with many bumps and chinks. Atop of it were many forests visible. The trees were densely packed, tall, and wide, even from this distance.


    William''s heart practically leaped from his chest. They had found land! Suddenly, his hopes sank again. There was no way they could climb up those sheer cliffs. It wasn''t possible.


    Felix''s strokes became slower and then stopped altogether. The dark-skinned boy plunged face-first into the water. William swam to him in a panic and pulled his head out of the water. "Felix, Felix, you''ve got to stay awake! We''re almost there!"


    "Just... need... rest...." said Felix, voice distant.


    William looked around for any way up the cliffs of brownish stone. There was none, but he needed firm ground soon! Then he saw something. "What about those rocks over that way? We can rest there for a time!"


    "All right," said Felix. "I think I can make it."


    They made for the rocks, and as they swam, Felix looked as though he might faint again. William made sure to stay by him, determined to carry him on his back if he had to. Finally, they reached the rocks. William tried to scramble up and quickly cut his hand. Barnacles were growing just beneath the water. Sucking his sliced fingers, he saw that Felix could not scale any higher.


    Reaching out with one hand, he gripped Felix by the collar, hoisted him, and put him onto the rocks. From there, Felix could pull himself a little further up before collapsing. William began to follow him, got halfway up, and banged his knee in the process. He felt tears coming to his eyes from the pain. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    No! He would not cry. He was the son of a Duke; he would act like it. Pulling himself further up, he fell forward to rest against the rocks. For a time, he lay there, exhausted and feeling a terrible headache coming up. Then, looking up, he saw Felix had turned around and was staring at the gray sky above. There was a strange smile on his face.


    "So there was land in this direction," Felix said. My education was with merit then.


    "Where were you taught anyway?" asked William, trying to distract himself from the pain in his fingers. "I mean, I knew you knew your letters when we met, but-"


    "A tutor educated me," said Felix.


    "You weren''t nobility," said William. "Father would have told me."


    Felix remained silent for a moment. "I''m related to someone important. He''s not likely to inherit anything, though. A very distant connection."


    William was curious to know how long precisely; they rested there on the wet rocks for a long time. Around them, the mist was burning away, and the sun was coming out of the clouds. It revealed green trees and reflected off the water. It would have been beautiful if it weren''t so cold and miserable. William shielded his eyes as they settled and looked out over the waters. He could see no sign of any ships, though not all the mist had cleared yet. He looked to Felix, who looked a bit stronger.


    "Where do you suppose we are?" he asked.


    "Seathorius, probably," said Felix. "This isn''t Haldren, and I heard the men say we were near that land."


    "That is the worst news I''ve heard all day," said William. "We''re near the land of Melchious, of the satyrs."


    "It won''t matter where we are if we don''t get off these rocks," said Felix. "What now?"


    "We swim along the shore," said William. "Until we find a place to climb up on dry land. Do you feel ready for another swim?"


    Then, there was a horn call, loud and shrill, from above them. Looking up to the cliffs, William saw a figure with goat hooves and a wild mane of red hair holding a horn. It turned and raced off. They had been discovered. Also, William would rather drown than be rescued by satyrs.


    "As ready as I''ll ever be," said Felix. "Let''s go."


    They plunged back into the water and labored with all their strength. Little by little, the cliffs got lower to one side. They saw no further sign of the satyrs; without the mist, they could see where they were going. This did little to ease William''s mind. He was deathly afraid that they would get up to shore only to be greeted by satyrs. Or have to swim away from a ship of creatures rather than be pulled out of the water.


    Neither of those things had happened yet, but he feared they would. On the other side, the dominions of the Shark Queen were below.


    Finally, they were swimming along a beach of white sand with a line of trees beyond it. They made for the shore, and the water got increasingly shallow until they crawled up the coast. The sand stuck to their wet clothes and bodies. They pulled themselves onward, unwilling to stop but unable to stand. Finally, near the forest''s edge, they stopped crawling and lay there. For a few minutes, they remained where they were, tired, freezing, and soaked. William felt he might die and realized they might if they stayed here. The wind was picking up, and his hands were feeling chilled.


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    "We..." he gasped. "We should take shelter in the trees."


    Felix did not answer. He looked almost dead as he lay there. William knew they could not wait for him to get up alone.


    Forcing himself up, William pulled Felix up, and they staggered on. Every step was exhausting, and it took hours to get anywhere. Yet William knew they would die of a chill if they stayed out in this wind. They both knew it. They could be sheltered from the wind in the forest''s eaves. When they got there, they collapsed against the side of a tree. There they rested only a moment.


    "We should," said Felix, "gather fuel for a fire. Warm ourselves."


    "That could draw the satyrs to us," said William.


    "It''s that or freeze," said Felix. "We can make a signal fire."


    He got up. It was more difficult than anything William had done before, but he managed it. Together, they searched the woods for dry sticks, leaves, bark, and fuel for a fire. Taking what they found, they piled thin sticks together with larger ones. Afterward, they put many dried leaves and bark underneath.


    Felix began to grind two sticks together, trying to create a spark. But, as William watched, he felt colder with every passing moment. Felix''s efforts needed to be fixed. Then, there was a spark, and the leaves caught fire. William and Felix leaned over them. They warmed their frozen hands and dried their bodies.


    The flames grew hotter as they added more fuel. Smoke was soon billowing up into the sky above them. Someone off the coast might see the pillar of smoke and come to rescue them. Yet they saw no ships on the ocean before them. They began to feel their limbs again, which was something. Even so, his lips and mouth were horribly dry, and he felt hungry.


    "Gods above, I''m thirsty," said Felix. "What I wouldn''t do for some water and food."


    "I wouldn''t take either from a satyr," said William, trying to sound bold.


    The weariness they had been trying to fight off gradually came on them. Then, finally, the darkness overtook the light. William realized they had been at this all day. Then, eyes drooping, he found himself drifting off. His last thought before falling asleep was that he hoped to wake up in the morning.


    William awoke the following day and found his throat was even more parched than last night. He was aching, and the sand covering him made him itch badly. Then he heard voices from somewhere. For a moment, he thought that Raynald had come ashore. Joy filled his heart. They would be rescued!


    Then he heard the harsh voices in nature, and his joy turned to dread. They did not belong to humans. He could not understand their speech but forced himself to look around. The fire was nearly dead; the last of its embers were cooling. They should have left a watch.


    Crawling past the fire, he shook Felix awake. The boy opened his mouth, but William covered it with one hand, then motioned with his other hand down the beach. Even as he did so, a pack of satyrs came around the bend wielding weapons. They were drawing near at an alarming rate. They hadn''t yet seen them and were talking freely in their tongue. Some looked as though they had been drinking.


    "Come on," said William, "we''ll make for the trees."


    They crawled forward on hand and foot while staying as low as possible. Then, slipping beyond the trees, they hid there. Then Felix wiped the sleep from his eyes and swore. "As soon as they see our campfire and the sticks, they''ll know we''re here," he said. "Let''s get some distance between them and us while we can."


    "But what if Raynald saw us?" asked William. "We can''t just move away from the shore."


    "The satyrs saw us first," said Felix. "Now, come on."


    They ran into the woods. Their bare feet were hurt on the gnarled roots of the trees. William felt lightheaded from lack of water, and his stomach growled from lack of food. The trees seemed to loom over them, and one of their branches somehow grabbed ahold of William as they moved. Struggling to break free of it, he could not untangle its claw-like branches from his sodden cloak.


    At last, he snapped off the branches and moved on.


    "One more sign for the satyrs to find us by," said Felix.


    Then, suddenly, they heard drunken whoops and cheers toward the shore. Without a word, Felix sprinted away, and William ran after him. He ignored the agony of his feet, for the voices drew nearer, and he dared not look back.


    The woods around him seemed to distort and change around them. The voices of the satyrs seemed to come everywhere and nowhere. The trees loomed higher and higher around them. The roots appeared to shift to grab their ankles. It was as if they had entered a realm of nightmares without a beginning or end. William realized they had no idea where they were going or what they would do if they escaped. That just made it all worse.


    Then William tripped on a root and hit the ground, having the wind knocked from him. His chest ached, and his whole body was numb with the shock. For a moment, he struggled to stand. Then Felix was by his side, pulling him up, and they ran. William felt he might faint at any moment and risked a glance back. He could see the satyrs gaining on them.


    One hurled a spear, and William ducked. The spear went over his head and plunged into a tree near him. A shadow passed overhead. It veiled the world in darkness, and the spear thrower screamed. William looked up to see blood streaming from his assailant''s eyes. Then, the satyr was consumed in a violet flame.


    William followed Felix up a hill. A tall white satyr dropped from above as they reached the top. It was the same one that had nearly killed them on the ship coming out of the treetops and landing before them. William froze in horror as he realized the satyrs had won. They had taken the boat and killed both Raynald and Rusara.


    Both his mentors were dead.


    No, it was impossible. The ships might have broken off; it must have been a stalemate. Before he could move, the white satyr grabbed him and Felix by the collar. It dragged them down the hill to throw at the feet of a short black female satyr. The white satyr said something on their tongue.


    The black satyr nodded while she replied, then motioned to William and Felix. The other satyrs were on them with ropes in moments. First, William''s hands were bound behind his back harshly, and he was forced to stand upright. His legs were also tied, and then they were carried on the shoulders of the satyrs through the woods.


    They were jostled and battered as they lugged through the forest''s darkness. Time stretched on as they went onward. It became darker and darker until he could hardly see anything save vague shapes. Not that it slowed the satyrs any. The trees did not seem to trip and bar their way as they had William and Felix.


    It was midday by the time they emerged once more into the light. A bleak and horrible-looking place welcomed them, patrolled by archers. It was a village of raised buildings of wood built into the branches of trees. Shacks were on the ground, made from many ill-cut boards, with small windows. The streets were filthy, and at the center of the town, a festival of some kind seemed underway.


    Satyrs were dancing in a circle, their bodies painted with red dye. They were clutching weapons and howled upwards. A group of seven dwarves clad in rags was chained to one side, and bonfires surrounded the ceremony.


    At the very center stood an idol of Melchious. William had never seen an image of him before, but he knew him on sight. He was a humanoid creature with talons instead of feet. On his back were the wings of a hawk, and his head was that of a vulture. In one upraised hand, he held a longbow and in the other several barbed arrows. It was both horrible and fascinating at once.


    William and Felix were thrown down to one side. The satyr warband that had captured them went to join in the festivities. For a while, they lay there. They observed the dances as the satyrs drank and performed unspeakable acts. Then, there was the ringing of a bell, and the rites halted. The dwarves were dragged forward by their chains, and the black satyr drew out a serrated knife. Getting behind one of the dwarves, she pulled back the dwarf''s head by the hair and cut his throat.


    Blood sprayed over the statue of Melchious, and cheers came from the satyrs. The black satyr went to the next dwarf and did the same to him. Felix averted his eyes, but William could not look away. He watched as, one by one, the dwarves were sacrificed and the statue stained red with blood.


    When, at last, the dwarves were all dead, the satyrs rushed forward with knives. They butchered the bodies like livestock and roasted the meat over the bonfires. More alcohol was brought out, and drunken revelry overtook them.


    Felix was throwing up. William felt his stomach churning but forced it down. He would not lose control. What was going to happen to them? Would they be eaten like cattle? William felt tears coming to his eyes, but he blinked them back. He would not cry before these creatures; he would not! William looked away in horror and pity for the dwarves as the sacrifices continued.


    Time passed as the revelry continued well after the sun had set, and darkness lay over the land. Then, when the rites had concluded and the satyrs were in a drunken sprawl, the black satyr kneeled by them.


    "Who are you?" she asked in Harlenorian. "And where do you come from?"


    William''s every inch hurt. He had been drenched and half-drowned. He had been frozen and carried around like a sack and would probably die horribly. But somehow, he forced his way up to a kneeling position. He held himself with as much dignity as could be managed.


    "I am the son of Duke Vanion Gabriel and the student of Raynald De Chevlon. They will come looking for me," he said.


    The black satyr considered this. "This is a good fortune that Melchious brings to us. We are lucky to have found you before the other villages. You will undoubtedly be worth a great ransom when he is done with you." She looked up at the white satyr. "Doltier, take his majesty to a special cage."


    Then she gripped Felix by the throat and drew him to eye level. Felix remained calm despite it all. "This one is the Calishan. Melchious'' messenger said nothing of him. Take him to the sacrificial pit. We''ll spill his blood for Melchious tomorrow night!"


    "He is a trusted friend of mine," said William. "And where he goes, I go."


    "You don''t have a choice." laughed the black satyr. "Take them away!"


    Melchious himself had sent the satyrs to capture him. And William knew precisely why. But how had he learned to attack Hrungeld''s ship? And how could William save Felix and himself?

 Chapter 5 - Four: Offers of Salvation

    The satyrs dragged William away from his friend to a pit on the outskirts of the village. A rusted iron gate covered in some growth was unlocked. Doltier hauled the entrance to one side with a hand. Then he pulled up William and drew out a dagger. William almost screamed as the blade surged toward him. The ropes around his hands and legs were cut with two swift movements, and Doltier, smiling, threw him in.


    William fell into the darkness and hit the earthen floor hard, clambering up slowly as he did. His every inch hurt, and he groaned in pain as the gate slid shut above him. One hand touched the stonework and found it damp and covered in moss, and there was an earthy smell. He could hear it locked above him. He could see only a little light through the grating above.


    Slowly, he pulled himself up. He had to get out of here. Had to save Felix. The satyrs were going to kill him if he didn''t do anything. Getting to his feet, he paced, checking the mortar in the stone. Perhaps he could loosen one of the stones and would find...


    Find what? A secret passage? The idea was laughable.


    No, if there were going to be an escape from this place, it would be out the way he came in.


    Gripping the stonework, William sought a handhold. After a few moments, he began to scale up the wall. His mouth was so dry, and he was so hungry, but he had to remain focused. Climbing up the wall, he reached the bars and grasped them. He set his feet against the wall and began to push against the bars, trying to dislodge them. They would not budge, and he finally dropped to the floor, defeated.


    He''d always been more robust than most boys his age. But that strength was insufficient to bend or dislodge metal from the rock. Returning to his idea of a secret passage, he checked the mortar to see if it was loose. It wasn''t, of course. So even if he''d found some, there was pure earth beyond. In time, he could dig a tunnel, of course. But he did not have time.


    William began to panic, walking back and forth while trying to think of some means by which he could escape.


    He had to get free of this place, whatever the cost to himself! He had to rescue Felix! He wanted to scream, to demand they let him free, but that would do no good. He should not give the satyrs any satisfaction. After all his pacing, it left him exhausted and without progress. Finally, he sat down against the rough wall and slid into a sitting position.


    Hours later, food and water were lowered down. William dared not eat any of the meat. There was no telling what, or who, it was made of. He also felt he should not drink the water for fear that it was drugged. Yet he was too thirsty to listen to this feeling and drank it. It hardly seemed to have touched his lips before it was gone.


    It dawned on him that there was nothing he could do with his power to escape this place. It hurt to think of it. He needed a miracle, and none seemed likely to happen. He wanted to cry, but he reminded himself that he was the son of a Duke of Harlenor. He resolved to pray.


    To which god? Laevian cared nothing for mortal affairs save insofar as they affected the wilds.


    Barden was a lord of trade and pleasant things.


    Coinfurth''s domain was mercantile, and William had nothing to trade.


    Mel''Zayer belonged more in the study than in a crisis.


    Isriath and Maius had no interest in dark and sunless places like this. They were of music and revelry, and he had no deeds to call on.


    Kafka, God of Madness, was out of the question, as was Baltoth and any of the Demonic Archons.


    Safara, Goddess of Love? She ate people.


    Farasa of Destiny? What exactly did he have to bargain with her. She had no obligation to him.


    Zeya, Queen of Heroes? He wasn''t a hero and hadn''t done anything impressive. Nothing beyond swimming for a day across shark-infested waters, anyway. And that was countered by not fighting the satyr.


    Rioletta of Fate was well-known as a weaver of webs and a sadist. She was a known compatriot of Melchious anyway.


    Karus'' perhaps? Goddess of Choice or whatever domain she represented now, it had become ambiguous. But, no, he was not able to offer her anything.


    Jaha, Goddess of Peace? A far-off deity of eastern lands and her domain had little to do with her.


    Barden? He rarely appeared and was most associated with trade and roads. There was little trade through Seathorius, so he''d have little power here.


    Imogen? He wasn''t that desperate.


    How many Gods did William know about anyway? Perhaps some God of Knowledge could help him? Well, what power could a God of Knowledge provide in these circumstances? William wondered if they had many agents.


    So, by all accounts, he was nothing to the Gods. Elranor, Lord of Death and Healing, and knights were his only option.


    But would the Lord of Knights even care? Felix was a Calishan, a race member who served his archenemy, and William was a coward. He had failed even to try to fight on that ship. Why should so great and mighty concern himself with them?


    Whether he would or not, William had to try.


    Clasping his hands together, he focused on connecting with the divine. "Elranor, my Lord..." he said. "I have failed you. For that, I am sorry. But Felix needs your help.


    "Send us aid and... and I will dedicate the rest of my life to your service. Just please don''t let Felix die!"


    He waited for a response. For a moment, he thought he felt a presence. It was searching through his most profound thoughts, judging him silently. Then it was gone, and nothing was happening. He was stuck in this place, waiting for his friend to die horribly.


    As time passed, it got gradually darker, and as the last light of the fading sun disappeared, he gave up entirely. Darkness came over the world, and not a beam of starlight reached him. He saw no sign of either Elranor or his captors.


    He waited there in limbo, his cuts and bruises stinging him badly. He wondered what good his service was to anyone? He couldn''t even avoid being captured. Then he felt it within the cell with him. It was not Elranor.


    A beam of moonlight shot down through the bars, and suddenly, the blue light became red. William raised a hand to shield himself from something he did not know or understand. He felt the heat on his hands, and daring to look up, he saw his shadow lengthening. First, it cast itself on the wall. Then, it shifted into the silhouette of a girl his age sitting or perhaps lounging in the air. He felt a sensation of agony from her, and he knew of only one explanation. Judging from her silhouette, she was Harlenorian or at least took one''s form. Harlenorian women tended to have huge breasts. But she was not one.


    She was a demon, like Melchious, whom Father had deceived long ago. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, as inelegant blubbering goes, yours is concise," the shadow said in a droll tone. "Let me return the favor. I am a being of no small power, and I''m here to strike a bargain with you."


    William stared at her. "Just how much of a fool do you take me for?"


    "You don''t seem very intimidated," said the shadow, disappointed.


    "Should I be?" asked William. "Rusara taught me of your kind. You are not here in your physical form. Which means you have only as much power as I give you. I need only command you to leave, and you will have to. And if you are here physically, I''m a dead man anyway.


    "I''m not interested; now go!"


    Nothing happened. The shadow looked at herself as though surprised she hadn''t disappeared. "Oh, look at that. A human has underestimated the power of hell. What an unexpected development. You know that commanding me to leave is more than words, do you not? The comments are merely symbolic of you closing your heart to me.


    "The only thing rejection symbolized was that making a bargain with me would be foolish. However, humans do silly things all the time. Knowing the consequences of an action does not stop you from taking it.


    "That requires an effort of will, and you have no such effort."


    "You''ll find me uninterested," said William.


    "That''s a lie, and you know it," said the demoness. "If there were no possibility of you accepting my offer, I never would have been able to enter your heart.


    "Now, we can get down to business.


    "I''m not listening," said William, looking away.


    "Very well," said the demoness, "I can''t work with someone who won''t listen. And you can''t banish something you can''t understand. So I''ll sit here until you are ransomed and Felix suffers a gruesome and horrible death."


    Elranor had not come, and time was of the essence. This might be the only way to save Felix.


    "Speak and be done with it," William said at last,


    He got the feeling she was smiling. "I knew you''d come around, dear."


    "Don''t use terms of affection with me, creature," William hissed.


    "You asked me before how foolish I thought you were," said the demoness. "A better question would be, "How desperate is your situation?"


    Very desperate, indeed. She made a fair point, though William would never admit it. "So you reason I should make a bad situation worse?"


    "Hardly," said the demoness, "I think you should make a good situation worse to save your friend."


    "A good situation?" asked William. "Are you blind?"


    "I hate to be the one to tell you this..." said the demoness, "actually, that is a lie. However, I am pleased to tell you this: you are far better off than you think. Oh, I don''t doubt this little holiday thus far has been very unpleasant, but you are almost certain to survive it. Your father will pay the ransom, and you will be sent home. Of course, Raynald and Rusara''s friendship with Duke Vanion will be strained. But this is all their fault, to begin with."


    "Are you trying to convince me to sell my soul by telling me my situation is better than I think it is?" asked William, hardly believing his ears.


    "No," she said, "I''m telling you that selling your soul is heroic. Your strength is insufficient; you have appealed to Elranor, and he has yet to answer. And really, why should he?


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    "You aren''t exactly hero material, after all."


    William looked away in shame. That was an understatement beyond compare; he had all but fled from battle. He had only used Felix as his excuse.


    "You saw that satyr and froze up," said the demoness. "You were terrified. You had to rely on your Calishan servant to bail you out. You don''t even feel bad about it. Even though your cowardice was what got you and Felix into this mess."


    "Be quiet," said William.


    "Before you offered Elranor your service as payment," continued the demoness. "Let me ask you: What service could someone like you possibly render the Lord of Knights? You don''t want to be a hero. You certainly aren''t any good at it. A hero would have joined the battle and vanquished that satyr singlehanded.


    "All you did was try to stay out of the way, and you didn''t even succeed.


    "Everyone is going to have to go out of their way to save you. All just because of who you are. It''s pathetic!"


    "I said, be quiet!" said William before rushing the shadow to strike it.


    He scarcely avoided bashing his head on the wall. A dark bubbling that might have been laughter filled the cell. The shadow reformed on the opposite wall.


    "I''m only telling the truth," said the demoness, "if you don''t like it, you should do something to fix the situation. Other paths could be pickier as to who may tread them. I realize that infernal bargains seem unattractive, but I''ll tell you a secret.


    "We get cheated a lot. The universe hates us because we refuse to play by its rules. So, it goes out of its way to turn binding contracts into loose guidelines at best. It is criminal. Many demons have provided service after service. All to be denied their rightful payment at the last minute."


    "If all that is so," said William, "then why are you telling me this?"


    "Because we don''t always get cheated," said the demoness. "I''m explaining this to you so you know that even if you make a pact with me, you may escape it. Now, are you interested in hearing my offer?"


    William knew he should refuse. Yet he could see no other option. "Just say it."


    "I will free both you and Felix," said the demoness, "and then I will pledge thirty years of service to you. In exchange, you offer your soul. I will serve you during those thirty years while you try to cheat me. You''ll have better chances than most. We''ve done studies, you know. Those who give their souls for the sake of another are three times more likely to escape."


    The shadow''s hand emerged from the wall with long black claws. "Come on; it could be fun."


    She was right ¡ª everything she said made perfect sense. Elranor had not come to help him, and he ran out of time. Demons could not lie when making bargains; it was part of their nature. William stepped forward, feeling hopeless. He had to help Felix and fix the mess he''d created. Reaching for the hand, he felt a sudden inaudible cry within him. His hand stopped. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him that this was the wrong choice.


    "Come on, a few more inches," said the demoness, grasping for him.


    He withdrew his hand and let it drop to his side. "Enough. Leave me be."


    The moonlight above waned, but the shadow held on. "Do you really think Elranor-"


    "Leave!" roared William.


    No more words were said. The demoness faded away, and his shadow returned to normal. William fell against the wall and sat down. Clouds had covered the moonlight, and it was now dark. Leaning back against the stone, he cried himself to sleep.


    William awoke the following day to feel the sun''s rays on his face from above. Yet another light was coming from within the cell ¡ª a tiny pinprick of illumination. Before his eyes, it began to grow, and a shadow appeared within it.


    The shadow became a figure and emerged from the light before it faded behind them. She was standing before William, an elven girl who looked the same age as him. But, of course, that meant she was much older. Her hair was flowing blue like the ocean, and she was dressed in the strangest outfit he''d ever seen. It was a knee-length gray skirt with a white button-up shirt. Around her neck was a red bowtie. Her shoes were strange, looked impractical, and had a fair-sized bust. Though it was small by Harlenorian standards. How did she not get chills like that?


    The girl looked around and noticed him. She sighed. Then she looked at a strange device on her wrist and sighed.


    "Wonderful," she said, "I''m sleeping in class. Well, this had better be good. Who are you, and why have you summoned me?"


    William stared, unsure of what to make of her or this situation. "My name is William Gabriel. Did Elranor send you?"


    "El-who?" asked Kiyora. "Unless he can make me fall asleep when I''m supposed to be doing schoolwork, I doubt it. So how do you need help?"


    "What?" asked William, hardly believing his ears.


    "You aren''t very bright, are you?" asked the girl. "If you called me here, you need help. That''s how these things work. So what do you need?"


    William strove to speak and, at last, managed it. "I''m standing before you in a cell not fit for dogs. I''m at the bottom of a pit with no shoes. I''m hungry and thirsting to death, and you are seriously asking me that question?"


    "Hey, no need to get snippy," she replied, "Most people who call me are far more polite. One moment." Her form shone with an unworldly radiance. She ascended upwards to phase through the grating above.


    For a moment, William wondered if he''d gone insane from stress and begun to see phantoms. It would explain a great many things. Then, there was a rumbling sound, and looking up, he saw the roots of a tree through the grating above. They strained momentarily, then fell to land on the floor in twisted and ruined pieces. Suddenly, a tree loomed overhead, and roots began to reach down. They grew longer and longer until they were at the bottom of the cell.


    The girl appeared above, staring downwards. Her long hair was hanging down around her shoulders. "Can you climb up those roots?"


    "I can try," said William, wondering who this strange girl was and how she commanded the trees.


    Rising, he raised his hands to the roots and climbed toward the surface. It was hard work since he wasn''t in the best of states, but the roots were more comfortable to climb than rock. He was also glad to be getting out, which drove him upward.


    As he neared the top, the girl reached down and offered him a hand. William took it and nearly lost his grip on the power he felt in his hand. It was as if she was made of magic. Which she probably was, for how else could she command the trees themselves? Or materialize from nowhere, for that matter. Even Rusara had never done that.


    Finally, he was drawn out of the pit. He dusted himself off as best he could, forcing himself to remain standing. "My thanks to you, milady. If ever I may repay you, you need only ask."


    "Wait a minute," she said, "did I miss something? Why are you acting all formal?"


    "I am trying to maintain my family''s dignity," admitted William, "for now, I must ask for your help again. A companion of mine has also been taken prisoner and will be-"


    "That''s it!" she cried. "I knew I''d seen you somewhere before! What are you doing in the dream world? I thought I and... well, never mind. I thought only I could enter it."


    William was at a complete loss. "I assure you, I have no idea what you are talking about."


    "Don''t play dumb with me!" she snapped. "I''ve seen you in class. Are you sleeping, too?"


    Powerful she may have been, but she was also quite mad. How exactly was William supposed to react to this? "Your delusions aside, my friend is in mortal peril and needs our-"


    "I''m back," said Felix.


    William and the girl turned to see Felix standing before them. He was dirty and tired-looking but unhurt. The Calishan boy was holding a sack over one shoulder. His eyes were haggard; he wore a new pair of boots that looked too big. He put down the bag before drawing out a new pair of boots and pressing them into William''s hands.


    "Felix," said Willliam, "how did you-"


    "I picked the lock on my cell," said Felix, "most of the satyrs were drunk after the festival, so they got sloppy. I stole what essential supplies I could, then headed in this direction to see if I could help you.


    "Oh, and I also set the satyr village on fire."


    William looked up and saw the beginnings of a smoke cloud rising over the treetops. Screams and cries of alarm could be heard. Unfortunately, it was likely that many people would die in the blaze. William remembered what the satyrs had done to the dwarves. All sympathy disappeared. "Good."


    "Put the boots on, and let''s go," said Felix. "They came from the dwarves; satyrs don''t wear boots. That won''t distract them forever. We must be far from here before they finish putting out the blaze."


    William slipped the boots onto his feet. Felix handed him a waterskin he had stolen as well. Then William and Felix headed off into the woods. The girl followed them. She looked more interested than afraid at the prospect of being pursued by satyrs.


    "Shouldn''t we be making for the river?" she asked. "You know, so you can fill your waterskins. There are dwarvish settlements on the other side."


    "I''ve meant to ask," said Felix. "What are you?"


    "This is... um..." began William.


    "My name is Kiyora," she said, "not that you bothered to ask. Also, shouldn''t you know this already?"


    "I told you," said William. "I''ve never met you before today."


    "Fine, play pretend if you want," she said. "Now-" Kiyora stopped and began to waver and glow. "Oh, man, I''m waking up. And this dream was starting to get interesting. The teacher is going to kill me..."


    There was a flash, and they were left alone in the woods.


    "...That was strange," said Felix.


    It was the tone of one who had seen an old friend.

 Chapter 6 - Five: The Nakmar

    Had William really seen that girl? The question beset him as he and Felix entered the woods. Indeed, they had not seemed natural to her. Such thoughts departed soon, though. They were in a hurry to escape the smoke rising behind them with all due haste. Memories of her beauty were on him, but he was more concerned about the green trees around them. More importantly, how they seemed to grasp for them.


    Once or twice, he saw torches in the distance and howls of rage from the satyrs.


    The landscape changed, however, as they got further out. There was no stumbling over roots or ducking below clawing tree limbs now. Instead, they moved with astonishing speed. William felt almost as though he was a wind passing through the trees. His feet didn''t seem to touch the ground once. His pains and aches, he realized, were gone. When he looked at his hands, the cuts had disappeared. It was a minor miracle in a day filled with them.


    He looked at Felix as they moved. "Felix, remind me to erect a shrine to Kiyora when we return home."


    "Why?" asked Felix.


    "Isn''t it obvious?" asked William. "She is some spirit or deity. I have to repay the debt, even if Elranor was the one who sent her." And he wouldn''t mind looking at her again.


    "All right," said Felix, "I won''t let you forget."


    They came out of the trees and found themselves on the bank of a river. The same river William had seen on many maps but had yet to honestly know how large it was. It stretched a considerable distance across. He knew at once that crossing it would be a challenging feat.


    Yet size didn''t matter much to him as he and Felix went down to the banks and drank. The water was heavenly on William''s lips, and he thought nothing would ever be as good. When their thirst had been quenched, they immersed themselves in the shallows. They washed the dirt and grime that had covered them from their bodies.


    Finally, they waded out, dripping wet. William felt very foolish as he tried to get some of it out of his hair. Felix did not even bother, his red eyes peering carefully at the water. "We should keep moving, Felix; the satyrs will come after us sooner or later."


    "Which way?" asked Felix.


    "This river is called Savior''s Run," said William. "I''m not sure why it is named so, some local legend, I think. It runs through the center of Seathorius. Then it heads through the elven reservations and Antion into the Ghost Mountains. If we follow it north, we should be able to find the shore. From there, we might create another campfire and hope for rescue."


    "Or wait to be recaptured," said Felix. "What are our other options?"


    William considered the question. "Kiyora said there are dwarven settlements along the other side of the river. If they aren''t friends of the satyrs, we might find shelter with them. Provided we can find a crossing place, of course."


    "So we can head north and hope to find the shore and a crossing," said Felix. "Which way is north?"


    William looked around silently. "I have no idea."


    "Fine," said Felix, "pick left or right, and we''ll go that way."


    "Right," said William before beginning to walk.


    Their going along the river was easier than before. It''s too easy for William''s liking, actually. The once hostile lands now seemed to conspire to aid them. He felt like some power was flowing through him and Felix, driving them on to swift progress. He began to suspect that it had much to do with Kiyora.


    They came to a place where the water was far lower so that they could see the stones of the riverbed. On the far side of the river was a watchtower. It was built in front of a hill with an exposed rock side. A dwarf was perched on it, holding a bow and scanning the surrounding area. A dwarf boy was sitting at the tower''s base, and he looked up with interest. As they approached, the archer notched an arrow.


    "Halt!" he barked. "Who goes there?! Stand and give an account of yourself!"


    William stopped at the bank''s edge and raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel. My companion and I washed ashore and were captured by satyrs. We escaped captivity and now seek shelter. Will you aid us?"


    "That isn''t my decision to make." called the lookout. "Cross the river and wait by the tower. Gunthred, go get Bjorn, will you?"


    "Yes, uncle," said the boy before scampering off. He disappeared into the side of the hill. Where had he gone? He was there one moment and was gone the next. It must have been magic, but what type?


    "Come, Felix," said William. "I''ll be glad to get onto the other side."


    "Fine," said Felix, "let''s go."


    The two of them waded into the water tentatively. It was deeper than it had looked and soon reached up to their waists. It got higher still as they went on, and soon it reached William''s neck. The water was cold, and the current against him was more challenging to fight against. Finally, looking at his friend, William realized it had reached Felix''s chin. They moved slowly, trying to stay on their feet with the current working against them.


    A loose stone gave way beneath William''s foot, and he fell forward to splash into the water. He was struggling beneath the surface in the river''s icy cold for a moment. Then he emerged from it, only to find himself being dragged downstream. Fighting to stay above the waterline, William saw the lookout coming to the edge of the bank with a rope. It was hurled into the water.


    "Grab hold!" cried the dwarf.


    William swam against the current as best he could and snatched for it. But, unfortunately, it slipped past his fingers. He beat his way forward furiously before grabbing it with one hand. Then, pulling himself ahead, he got back onto the ford and made his way along. Felix came up behind him and grasped the rope. Soon, the two of them reached the edge of the river. They emerged soaked and dripping wet, and William found himself shivering.


    "Are you all right?" asked the dwarf.


    For a moment, William could not speak. "Fine..." he gasped at last. "Thanks to you."


    There was a familiar hollering, and William looked up. On the far side of the river stood Doltier, and with him were many other satyrs. Suddenly, there was a horrific presence in the air. The same shadow that William had seen on the ship passed overhead. The waters began to lower down to ankle height. The satyrs moved forward with a terrible battle cry. They waved their weapons as they charged forward.


    Then came the dwarves out of the side of the hill, carrying bows and arrows and clad in leather armor with skull caps. They formed ranks, and one shot an arrow straight past Doltier''s ear. Or at least it would have had Doltier not caught the needle in one hand and snapped it between his fingers. Even so, he called his warriors to a halt.


    There was a tense silence between them. Then, finally, Doltier snarled something in the satyr''s tongue. An immense dwarf with braided white hair and a bald head came forward. He was clad in hide leather and had a sword at his belt with a cloak all around him. He shouted something back in a hoarse, old voice. Doltier waved his scimitar. The dwarf motioned to his archers while responding sternly.


    The conversation went on for some time. Eventually, Doltier lowered his weapon. The satyr motioned to his fellows, and they withdrew back into the woods. There was a long silence as the dwarves began to discuss matters among themselves. William sneezed while they were doing it, and they all looked up, startled.


    The dwarf who had spoken with the satyr came forward. "The satyrs and we have a truce. They have agreed not to pursue you so long as you remain with us."


    William breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. We saw seven of your people slain and devoured by those creatures and were afraid they would do the same to us."


    "Seven?" asked the dwarf. "What was-" he trailed off as he looked at William. He felt suddenly as if his entire being was being gazed through.


    "You are blessed by Queen Yagos. I am sure of it. But, something about your eyes," He turned to Felix. "And you, you have seen her as well, yet I sense the darkness in you. The touch of a demon is on you." S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    William looked up at Felix in shock. "What is he talking about, Felix?"


    "I''m a Calishan," said Felix with a shrug. "My people worship a demon god. We make temples for his children. There has been a lot of intermingling."


    "Yes." said the dwarf. "I can see it. You have in you the blood of Baltoth."


    "What?" asked William, hardly able to believe it.


    "I am Bjorn Houndslasher," said the dwarf. "High Priest of Queen Yagos. You are both more than welcome to share our table as honored guests. We are holding a great celebration once we honor some of our elders'' ascension. Thus-"


    William sneezed again.


    "-I am certain I could arrange for you to be clothed in dry garments first, of course," said Bjorn. "Men, stand watch and be on the lookout for any more satyrs. You two follow me."


    Bjorn led them to the side of the hill and tapped one hand against it. There was a strange sensation as if a gateway was opening, yet William could see nothing that had changed. Then Bjorn motioned to them and passed through the wall.


    William looked to Felix. "Do you think it is an illusion?"


    "That seems quite likely," said Felix before stepping forward and passing through.


    William sneezed again and followed Felix. There was an odd sensation. William felt as though he was passing through something physical. This was no ordinary illusion. There seemed to be an unnatural substance on the walls he was walking through.


    He emerged into a dimly lit hall built inside the hill. It was toasty warm within, and the heat was a welcome relief. There were ten stone pillars in a circle. Around them was a series of fires on which many dwarves were cooking. There were boars and rabbits and various birds. The smell alone made William''s mouth water. For a moment, he completely forgot everything else.


    "Those roots," said Felix, "come from the tree above this place, don''t they?"


    Stolen story; please report.


    William looked up and saw that the ends of many roots were all over the top of the ceiling. In addition, there were several holes that the smoke from the fire was coming out of.


    "Yes," said Bjorn, straightening out his gloves. "That tree is always above this hall, wherever Seathorius shifts us. It was planted by Queen Yagos herself long ago. Stay right here a moment." He approached a female dwarf with a round face and hair tied over her head. "Moira, I know you are grieving; however, I must set you a task. These two need clothing, and if they do not change out of their clothes, they may catch their death."


    The woman did not answer for a moment, her eyes spaced out. Then she jumped. "I will get some for them at once, Master Bjorn," said Moira, bowing low before rushing off.


    Bjorn came up to them. "One of my servants. She is not of the Nakmar; we freed her from a satyr prison some years ago. She was close to some of those who ascended yesterday."


    "What do you mean by ascended?" asked William.


    "I mean, they passed beyond the dream," said Bjorn.


    "... I''m not sure I understand," said William.


    "Right, you are outlanders," muttered Bjorn. "I believe in outside realms; it is known as death. Moira is from the outside and never fully understood the truth."


    "What truth?" asked William.


    "Strangely, one blessed by Yagos should know so little of her teachings," said Bjorn. "The Dreaming Goddess teaches us that this world, as we know it, is but a passing dream. A fantasy of sorts conjured up by the minds of greater beings, soon to end and be forgotten. It is no more real for those we call gods than a tale of old legends is for us. Those who die in battle are reborn within the dream. Those who die peacefully pass on and are made real within the true world."


    "I see," said William.


    After a time, Moira returned with two sets of folded clothes. "These are all I could find at short notice. They were made for some of our slimmer warriors. They might be..." She sniffed. "They may be a bit big."


    "Thank you," said William, taking them.


    As it turned out, the clothes were rather loose around them, and William needed a belt to make them fit. Even so, getting out of the wet and clinging garments felt heavenly. He looked at his once beautiful clothes somewhat sadly. They were ragged and travel-worn and smelled of mildew. He doubted they would ever be of any use again.


    He still sneezed occasionally and began feeling more than a little sick.


    Felix''s clothes fit him even less, for he was thinner than William by a large margin. Bjorn looked over them. "Well, it is the best that can be managed. All is prepared, and we are to give the bodies of our brothers their last rites now. Will you attend?"


    William did not want to. However, neither did he want to offend. "We will."


    Bjorn led a procession out of the hill while William and Felix tailed behind. Finally, the bodies of three dwarves were brought up to the top of a mountain. There, they were laid out on the roots of the great tree. And it was then that William saw that the tree''s roots were mingled with many dwarvish bones. He felt a surge of horror.


    It only deepened as the dwarves turned away and departed.


    "Aren''t you going to bury them?" asked William.


    "We Nakmar dwarves do not bury our dead," said Bjorn. "Rather, we let nature take its course. We allow the beasts of Laevian and Typhos to feast on them so we will not invite their wrath. We mourn those we have been parted from away from the bodies of the fallen."


    "But..." William faltered, "Surely they deserve the honor of burning, at least."


    Bjorn looked at him strangely. "I have heard that Harlenorians and Calishans bury and cremate their ascended. It is a strange thing to do. Moreover, the ashes of the body cannot be eaten by animals. And in the dirt, they will be of little use."


    "It is a matter of respect," said William.


    "These are not our brethren," said Bjorn. "They have already left the dream. What remains is a shell, left behind and unmissed. But, come, the feast is soon to begin."


    They returned to the hall as the final preparations were made. As they waited, William examined carvings on the wall. Carved into the stone were images of conflict. A shadow hunted in the dark, thirsting for blood. Unholy rituals brought forth monsters from beyond the veil of reality. They were snakelike creatures with scythes for arms.


    Then came the girl. She appeared from the light, younger even than William. And where she walked, prisoners were liberated. She gradually got older as he went down the pictures until suddenly, he recognized her.


    "Is that Kiyora?" asked William suddenly, things clicking into place.


    "Yes," said Bjorn, "though we do not call her by that name often. The Dreaming Goddess came to us hundreds of years ago and helped us with many things. At first, her aid was small, finding lost livestock and such. She was very young then. Yet, as time passed, her powers became greater. And the deeds she performed became more extraordinary still. And she grew older, though she was slower to do so than even elves.


    "Each time she appears, she is older. The real world, it seems, has a different time from our own." He paused as a dwarf came to whisper in his ears. "Excuse me, I must greet some other visitors."


    As Bjorn departed, William looked to Felix. He remembered what Bjorn had revealed. Felix was related to Baltoth the Inexorable. And Baltoth, the most terrible enemy Harlenor had ever known. "So when were you going to tell me about your heritage?"


    "Never," admitted Felix, "my great, great grandmother was a consort of Baltoth. He has a harem numbering in the thousands, counting his living concubines. It doesn''t make me anything special."


    "...All right," said William. "I''ll say nothing to anyone." The demon god''s depravity was well known. William wasn''t going to judge Felix based on who his great-grandparents were. Soon enough, Bjorn returned, and with him came many other dwarves. They were led by a black-bearded dwarf who wore a crown of silver. His clothes were a sturdy make with a lot of furs. He eyed William and Felix doubtfully.


    "Bjorn, who are these?" he asked.


    "A son of Baltoth and his servant, nephew," said Bjorn.


    Obviously, there had been a misunderstanding. "It is an honor to meet you," said William. "However, Felix is my servant."


    Bjorn looked at him oddly, then at Felix. "Is this true?"


    "It is a very long story, but yes," said Felix.


    "I see," said Bjorn. "Yet I was led to believe that humans had their servants speak for them while they were in an unknown land."


    "That is a Calishan custom," said Felix. "With Harlenorians, the custom is for the servant to say nothing. Their masters do all the speaking."


    "Would it not be simpler for all to speak for themselves, as we do?" asked Bjorn''s nephew.


    "Perhaps," admitted William, "but it''s a matter of tradition."


    "A strange one," mused the nephew. "Yet no matter. I am Wiglaf Houndslasher, King of the Nakmar."


    "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel," said William. "My servant is Felix, a close friend of mine."


    "I shall be very interested to hear your tale at the feast," mused King Houndslasher.


    "Then let us not hold it up any longer," said Bjorn. "Under this house on this day, all are equals and may speak freely."


    The dwarves all entered a side passage to gather around long tables. They numbered perhaps several hundred, and those were only the most prominent guests. There were others in other halls, drinking and eating just as merrily. William had a very fuzzy memory of the feast afterward. He remembered drinking delicious drinks and eating fantastic food. Dwarves were making mighty boasts of their heroic deeds.


    While they did so, a group of robed dwarves wrote them down. They scratched their writings down with ink and quill on sheets of parchment in one corner. William guessed that these people needed to learn the techniques for making paper.


    It was a recent innovation, though. It dates back to the beginning of Andoa II''s reign in Antion. Though that was before William was born. Comparatively recent, then.


    "Who are those dwarves, writing things down?" asked William.


    "They are my priests," said Bjorn. "Among their duties is recording the tales of valor told in this hall. The hope is that future generations might know of their ancestor''s greatness."


    "I see," said William before he noticed something else. Two statues sat at the far end of the table, sitting in the place of the ruler. He wondered why. Shouldn''t the King be seated at the head of the table? He decided it was not polite to ask.


    "Tell me," said William, "what day are you celebrating?"


    "Long ago," said Bjorn, "those now named Calishans were under the rule of the hated Dust Elves. Under their rule, they invaded Seathorius. As a result, many ancient trees were felled, and the dust elves sought to exterminate satyr and dwarves. So, they built a mighty citadel near the northern borders.


    "Yet then Baltoth the Great, the Inexorable, the Mighty, arose from the river and laid low their armies. Then, with his sword in hand, he drove them from Seathorius singlehanded. Then, he rebuked us for our weakness and cursed the castle the dust elves had built.


    "To this day, it stands, overgrown and haunted by unholy spirits. That is why we call it Baltoth''s Retribution. It forever reminds us of our former weakness." He paused. "Yet there is a rumor, a tale, that there is an artifact of terrible and wonderful power within it."


    William could not help but feel the conversation had changed subjects. Despite himself, he was curious. "What is this artifact?"


    "A mirror," said Bjorn. "It is said that the one who looks into it will see a perfect truth. That is a perilous thing, indeed. For such a simple thing may break nations. Yet one who looked on themselves with eyes unclouded would emerge far stronger. So it is known as the Mirror of Laevian. Once, I quested for it when I was young."


    "Did you find it?" asked William.


    "Of course not," said Bjorn. "Or else it would no longer be a rumor. No, I arrived at Baltoth''s Retribution after many perils and dangers. I found I could not take one step forward. I forced myself past my terror and got as far as the gate.


    "Then I saw a being with wings like a dragon and eyes of blue flame. And a tail with a blade shaped like a crescent moon on it. So I fled, and to my shame, I have never been able to go back. The horror of that place is too intense for mere words to describe.


    "Now, I am old."


    "Yet surely someone powerful enough will force his or her way in," said Felix.


    "They would have to be strong of will indeed." mused Bjorn. "And until a time when such a hero appears, the Mirror of Laevian will remain lost."


    "Why wouldn''t Baltoth just steal the thing when he sacked the place?" asked Felix.


    "I do not know," admitted Bjorn. "He was not a god then. Perhaps some enchantment of the dust elves held him back, and now that he is a god, the mirror seems of little account. But, undoubtedly, he has many other matters to consider as ruler of half the world."


    "But what are you celebrating?" asked William, losing patience.


    "Oh yes, that was the original question, wasn''t it?" asked Bjorn. "We celebrate the day when Baltoth arose from Savior''s Run."


    "I see," said William, glad to finally have an answer. "Is that why the satyrs didn''t attack?"


    "A long time ago," said Bjorn ''the satyrs never would have even considered a battle on this day. Yet they have since come under the sway of Melchious. He is a cruel and powerful demon who resides within this land. Years ago, there was actually a battle between us. Since then, we have held our celebrations below ground."


    "There are many more dwarves here than before," noted Felix.


    "What you see are visitors from many villages," said King Houndslasher. "We have learned to change our passages, so they all meet up on this day. Seathorius is far closer to the Dreaming Goddess than other parts. Thus it shifts and changes with her whims." He paused. "Tell me, what is the tale of your coming here? That alone has gone unspoken."


    William remained silent for a moment. "All right, I ought to start from the beginning." It appeared they were in for a very long night.


    William told them everything that happened. The words spilled from his mouth in an onslaught. It could have been a more neat and tidy story of the sort Rusara told; he often had to go back and explain points he had missed. He glossed over the battles; they could have been more interesting. Nor was he keen to remember them and had no talent for describing them. The bit that seemed to affect his audience the most was when he mentioned the dwarves the satyrs ate.


    "So that was their fate," said Bjorn sadly. "I cautioned them not to cross the river and violate the truce. But, thirsting for an adventure, they would not listen.


    "I will hope their next life has a happier end."


    William continued his tale. He described his imprisonment and all his attempts to escape on his own. When he came to the appearance of the demoness, everyone seemed very interested. He must have told the story well, and he added a great many details.


    "I think I know of this demoness," said King Houndslasher. "A lesser creature that serves Melchious. She came to this realm long ago. She ferries messages between his outposts. There are some on the other side of the river and those dwarves that serve him on this side.


    "Sometimes, she commands raiding parties."


    "If she serves Melchious, why was she offering to help me escape?" asked William.


    "No doubt, they had some use in mind for you," said the King. "They must have created a crisis hoping to strike a bargain to get you out of it. Or perhaps she merely seeks to usurp her master; such things are not uncommon. It is at this stage a question we will likely never hear the end of. Continue."


    There was an even greater interest when he got to the parts describing Kiyora. Murmurs of awe were common, and the dwarves writing it all down scribbled faster than was usual. When William was done, Felix was called upon to fully account for his side of events. Felix was far more verbose, dwelling on the glories of combat. His words excited the dwarves. William felt he told the tale far better than he had.


    The duel with Doltier, if it could be called that, was made a swashbuckling battle for the ages. This rather than the one-sided affair it had really been. His friend seemed to delight in exaggerations, making for a perfect story. William was perplexed; he had not seen this side of Felix before.


    The dwarves certainly liked it. But William noticed Felix skimmed over his escape from the satyrs and looked away. Even so, the dwarves were more excited about the whole thing. As they spoke of it, King Houndslasher seemed to be weighing something on his mind. "It is a good tale. I doubt Kiyora would favor you if it were not true. You have had a terrible journey, and I fear the worst may not be behind you. Seathorius only lets people go easily. Yet something troubles me.


    "You seem to hold Melchious in a more personal dread than we do. What is the reason for this?" William opened his mouth to make a flat denial, and somehow, he doubted that the King would call him on it. But it would be a lie, even to himself, and since the dwarves had been so kind, he felt he owed them the truth.


    So he told it.

 Chapter 7 - Six: The Tale of Vanion Gabriel

    Years before, William''s Father, Vanion, had returned from the Calishan Wars a hero. The latest siege of Cowcal had been greatly helped by several victories he won. His spear and the weapons of his companions had seen the Calishans beaten at Desora. The memory of them being driven into the sea by a mere fragment of the Harlenorian army. It had been unforgettable. The sunlight was glinting off spearpoints as they closed on the enemy. The cries of dismay and triumph had been breathtaking. Though he''d nearly lost his life.


    It was a sight he would remember, no matter how far he went in life. Alas, the attack had forced the siege of Cowcal to end early, but Artarq remained secure. The army had also taken much plunder and renown gathered.


    And yet he was in no hurry to get home and tell the story in the hall of his Father. That was why he''d let Raynald convince him to journey to visit the manor of the De Chevlons. It was a very awkward situation, for him at least. He''d learned soon on his arrival that only some of the De Chevlons were as eager as Raynald to mend fences. As the party continued around him, he felt like Raynald had only invited him to offend his relatives.


    It worked. Vanion kept getting icy glares from various members of the De Chevlons. A social person would have been able to win them over through sheer sincerity. But, unfortunately, he was not a social person.


    "Feeling isolated in a crowd?" asked a familiar voice.


    Vanion looked up to see Rusara leaning against a wall. The gray-skinned elf looked very beautiful after her fashion. Her violet dress suited her well. As did her silver earrings, an appealing change from the usual robes she wore. Yet she had chosen Raynald and not him.


    "More or less," he admitted, "I don''t see why Raynald even brought us here."


    "You were looking for an excuse not to meet your family quite so soon," said Rusara. "Raynald didn''t want to meet with his family and decided to use you to make a point."


    "What point?" asked Vanion.


    "I''m not sure," admitted Rusara, "that he still remembers their mistreatment of him. I gather there isn''t much love between him and his brothers. After showing them all up in battle, it would add insult to injury to bring you here."


    "An alliance between the Gabriels and the De Chevlons would be mighty," said Vanion. "You would think they would see past the fact."


    "Power or not, blood seeks more blood," said Rusara. "When you leave here, I should avoid traveling alone. Some De Chevlon''s are hotheaded and might decide to correct Raynald''s error."


    "So you aren''t coming with me?" asked Vanion, feeling more alone than ever.


    "I would like to see Carn Gable someday," admitted Rusara, "but I have been away from the Dusk Lands for decades. I do need to check in with my family."


    "Yes," said Vanion. "Family does come first."


    "Not for Raynald," noted Rusara, "or for you."


    "Yes, I suppose so," said Vanion.


    At that moment, the crowds shifted and parted. Vanion looked up to see the fairest woman he had ever seen. Her hair was wavy and dark, and her skin was light. She wore a silken white dress and walked with a grace that defied reason. Then Vanion saw the man on her arm, and Vanion almost cursed. He was far plainer than his wife, a very ordinary-looking sort. Nevertheless, Vanion tried and failed not to resent him.


    "Who are they?" asked Vanion.


    "Duke Margravine Borinius and his Duchess, Isabella," said Rusara. "He''s the Lord of Brisgald, one of the most important and formidable fortresses-"


    "I know what Brisgald is, Rusara," said Vanion.


    "Right, right," said Rusara, "he can trace his lineage back to the first King of Antion. His wife is a cousin of the King. People of great influence."


    "So I had guessed," said Vanion. "Why do you always tell people things that are common knowledge? I didn''t recognize them initially, but I know who they are now."


    "I''m trying to remind you of something important," said Rusara. "You shouldn''t become interested in them."


    "I''m not," said Vanion. "I just think I ought to speak with them."


    Duke Borinius was speaking with Raynald now. They were getting on very well. Vanion parted company with Rusara and approached. He needed to figure out how to introduce himself. It would suit his standing to make a favorable impression with the Duke of Brisgald. He had to keep focused. Even so, he''d never been good at talking with people, and as he approached, he grew increasingly nervous.


    He decided that he would go elsewhere. There was no sense in disturbing them. At that moment, Raynald looked up and saw him. "Ah, Vanion," he said. "I was just telling Duke Borinius some tales of our adventures."


    "You seem to have had many of them," noted Borinius. "I''ve already heard of your victories in the Calishan Wars."


    "There isn''t much to tell," said Vanion, keeping his eyes off the Duchess. "I did my duty in what way seemed best. Raynald is the real swordmaster here."


    "You belittle your talent," noted Borinius. "No others I have spoken to share your views. But, in my experience, men who command are not always those who fight well. With no disrespect to Raynald, of course."


    "None taken," said Raynald, pleased to find someone who didn''t judge him by his looks. "I prefer to think of myself as a blunt instrument. Vanion guides me to where I''ll do the most damage once he sets me loose. We work well together."


    "An uncommonly down-to-earth viewpoint." mused Borinius. "This is my wife, Isabella." Now, he had no choice but to look at the Duchess. As he took one elegant hand, Vanion found a lump forming in his throat. But, of course, it didn''t help that she eyed him with a particular appreciation. "Milady, it is a pleasure."


    "No, the pleasure is all mine," said Isabella. "I have heard such great tales of you and your companions? Tell me, are you, as some say, close with the Lady Rusara?"


    Vanion wanted to avoid where this was heading. Not because the question seemed improper. It was more because of the disobedient fantasies that played across his mind. He was rescued from having to answer when Rusara herself appeared.


    "You should not listen to rumors," said Rusara. "My relationship with Vanion is one of friendship. But, in truth, it is with Raynald that I am quite taken."


    "Indeed?" asked Borinius, surprised. "You told stories to me when I was only a boy. I never thought you would be taken with anyone, let alone a... human." He sounded like he was about to say something else. Then his eyes glanced at the cloak, which concealed Raynald''s withered arm.


    Raynald let it pass. Vanion supposed he was used to it by now.


    Isabella smiled in a manner that made his heart flutter. "I am glad," she said. "One such as yourself, Vanion, ought to be promised to a woman of high and noble blood."


    Something about the way she swayed as she said those words affected him. Yet the allure was entirely broken by the realization that Rusara had been insulted. "Excuse me, I will walk in the gardens."


    He entered the De Chevlon family gardens and walked among the hedges. Was it him, or did Isabella seem to fancy him as much as he did her? His thoughts about her were dishonorable, and he should thus seek to avoid her. Vanion had only an arranged marriage to a woman he loathed to look forward to. The Lady Mara Hawkthorne came from a family of merchant lords.


    In theory, it was a good match. House Gabriel was short on money and had a great deal of respectability. It would also give them a claim to the throne of Escor. House Hawkthorne was immensely rich. But they lacked the respect of neighboring lands in Antion. A link between their families could be overpowering.


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    It could be.


    But Vanion disliked Lady Hawkthorne and her treatment of those beneath her. And he suspected that her family wasn''t near as wealthy as they claimed to be. Not that Father ever listened to him. He was too dead set on regaining the throne of Escor, not realizing it was already lost.


    Vanion came out into a square enclosure with a fountain. It was bubbling with crystal-clear water at the center. Something about the place troubled him, and he could not drive Isabella from his thoughts. It was maddening.


    The whole thing was unfair. Why should he be promised to another without his own consent? He was a master of armies, and yet he could not even be the master of whom he married first. He had been called a hopeless romantic, and perhaps he was, but he could not change his feelings. Then, he could refuse it, just as she could. Yet that would be politically disastrous for their families. It would also be a violation of their duties.


    Vanion paced back and forth, becoming no calmer as he did so. He could not drive her beauty from his mind, and the more he tried, the more he desired her. He could not have her, of course. It was both impossible and dishonorable. Not only was she already married, but even if she were a partner in such a crime, the opportunity simply did not exist.


    "You can have her, you know," said a calm voice.


    Vanion halted and looked up. Leaning against one of the hedges stood a figure clothed in a white tunic. His hair was long and golden, and his eyes a brilliant blue. He was very handsome, yet his features were almost girlish. He was looking at Vanion with a friendly bearing, but Vanion did not like the look of him. He wasn''t sure why.


    "Who are you?" asked Vanion.


    "Call me Melchious," said the man, walking forward.


    Melchious! Vanion drew his dagger and took a stance. Melchious laughed merrily. You would never think him a demon from the way his voice rang with music. "Please, please, put down your weapon, knight. If I desired you dead, I should have slain you before you knew I was here. I am merely here to strike a bargain."


    "I am not selling my soul," said Vanion.


    Melchious smiled and widened. "Please do not underestimate me, sir knight. I know well that one such as yourself would understand. An eternity of damnation would not be worth any worldly pleasure.


    "No, my aspirations are far more humble than that."


    Vanion found himself sheathing his dagger in relief. He could trust Melchious; why not? What was he thinking? This was a demon, yet Vanion felt he should regard him as a trusted friend. Something about his voice. "What do you want?"


    "To help you, of course," said Melchious. "I assure you the arrangement I wish to come to is mutually beneficial. I need no service from you, no dishonorable deed you would not do anyway with half a chance. Only a small thing-"


    "What are you offering?" asked Vanion, wanting to cut to the chase.


    Melchious seemed annoyed at the interruption, and his smile lessened momentarily. He seemed a little less glamorous for an instant and far colder. Then it passed. "When these celebrations are over, Duke Borinius will return to Brisgald. As is his custom, he will go hunting sooner or later. Such trips take days, even weeks.


    "When he departs, I will transform your physical appearance to be like him.


    "His mother would not know the difference between you and him. Entering his abode, you may have your way with the beautiful Isabella, and no one will ever know you were there. Your desires will be satiated, and she will have a son."


    Vanion opened his mouth to agree, and he could hardly stop himself. Some magic of Melchious'' was driving him to be reckless. He knew he ought to refuse outright and end this at once, yet it seemed more a harmless joke than the crime it was. Was it so significant?


    A voice urged him to accept it without asking further. Vanion was not such a fool. "I take it there is some price to this offer."


    "Price?" mused Melchious as if the idea had just occurred to him. "Well, yes, there is one. If indeed, disposing of the evidence can be considered a price. The son born of your lust will be mine. The child will have been created under my authority. Thus, it is only fitting that I hold influence over it.


    "But it will hardly be your problem. Borinius has been without a child for years. It is a source of some humiliation for him and his wife. If and when he finds out about the child, even if he suspects the truth, he will not reveal it."


    "How does this benefit you?" asked Vanion.


    The question annoys Melchious further. He did not seem to like being questioned. "A just question. I have many plans that may take centuries to come to fruition. Nevertheless, having authority over a noble bloodline could give me a significant advantage. And some greater ones. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You need not fear such machinations. They will bear fruit long after you are dead, and in the meantime, you will get what you want. What else is there?"


    "Quite a lot, I''ll wager." mused Vanion, but he realized he was actually considering it. It was disgraceful! This was utterly dishonorable, and he would have no part in it! "Leave."


    Melchious took a step back and sighed. "Yes, I suppose such momentary value when considering the honors you have received." He turned to walk away, pointedly not saying them. They did not exist.


    Vanion considered what honors he had been given for his victories? Nothing. He had kept Artarq from falling into the hands of Baltoth. Yet it was Lord Argath Marn who was given the position of governor. He''d orchestrated many victories, yet it was Raynald and Rusara who everyone cheered.


    What had honor gotten him? What pleasures had it denied him?


    "No one needs ever know what happened here tonight," said Vanion.


    Melchious stopped and turned with a smile. "I knew you had it in you."


    He was before Vanion offered a hand. Vanion reached for it but halted. He felt as though something was screaming at him to stop, not go further. He should have abandoned this plan before it was too late.


    Then, he felt a surge of spite for those who had snubbed him. For the King of Antion for giving Artarq to the highest bidder instead of the one who saved it. For Borinius. How he had revealed his contempt for Raynald was unforgivable for Isabella. She had treated Rusara with such disdain. They deserved it ¡ª all of them.


    It was the most foolish, reckless, and dishonorable thing he''d ever do, and he knew it at the time. It didn''t stop him, though. He clasped Melchious'' hand.


    Melchious let go. His smile faded, and he drew back, seeming paler and less fair. "Excellent; when you pass Brisgald during the return journey, you''ll know where to meet me. We''ll make arrangements then. Until that day, farewell, Sir Vanion Gabriel."


    Then he was gone as though he''d never been there in the first place. Rusara came around the corner, looking concerned. "Vanion, are you all right? You didn''t need to leave on my behalf." She halted. "You look pale. Is something wrong?"


    Vanion looked at his palm, feeling like a mark should be there. Yet there was nothing ¡ª not a sign of what had transpired. So no one would ever know. "No, I just needed some air. We''d best get back."


    "Right," said Rusara. "I''m leaving this morning, so we''d better make the best of tonight."


    "So am I." realized Vanion.


    His departure could not come soon enough.

 Chapter 8 - Seven: Dishonor

    Brisgald loomed like a claw reaching up to scratch the sky on a terrible horizon. Its keep was shaped like a crowned skull, and its towers were crooked and twisted. The villages around it were impoverished and laboring. Here or there, you could see merchants selling their wares. Some were as far away as the Furbearers of Southern Antion. There were also the pale and dark-haired men of Escor. Their roofs could have been better maintained, with roofs decaying and overgrown roadsides.


    Meanwhile, the people were sick, starved, and malnourished. The militia, such as Vanion, had seen their drills. The backbone of the Harlenorian army needed to be kept in shape according to the regulations.


    What would Borinius do if he had to raise an army? What would the people do if they had to submit one? It was the expectation that the people be strong enough to represent themselves. Was he trying to keep them weak?


    As he walked on, watching an ox cart pass him by with a fat merchant, Vanion felt a sense of resentment. How did these men who were not warriors have more prosperity than him? They were buying up cartloads of grain and taking it down to Antion to feed the people there. King Andoa II created an extensive grain supply system for the populace. But as he aged, that supply system had become corrupt.


    Vanion suspected that large amounts of the grain bought were being sold elsewhere. Likely to Sorn, who had little farmland and had not used the usual markets. House Kaba was well known for this trick, using black markets to bypass the usual channels. And those channels were worth less, with the Thieves Guild getting ever more powerful. The King''s Road was filled with tollhouses and required endless bribes. So most people had to take backroads, where bandits wandered.


    Vanion saw the bodies of men left hanging from trees as a warning. Birds had pecked their eyes out. A sign said that they were thieves who had been caught stealing food. An armed guard clad in heavy armor stood guard by them. Vanion approached them.


    "Tell me, why are you men posted here?" he asked.


    "Duke Borinius commanded that these be left to rot," said the guard, standing up straight. He had a beard and looked to not be hungry, but he looked uneasy about the corpses. "I''m to make sure no one comes along to take them down."


    "What could they have done?" asked Vanion. One of them was a child. "Stealing food is not normally punished by hanging. Instead, the courts almost always order them given a redemption quest."


    The guard bit his lip and looked incredibly uncomfortable. The commoners walked past the gallows laboring. "Well, there have been a couple of bad harvests these past years. Borinius sells many crops for a profit and uses them to buy luxuries and weapons. Some of these peasants tested his patience one too many times by asking to keep more of their crops. He had them hung.


    "And so many people are going hungry now that there just isn''t enough food. So everything has become a hanging offense, like in House Korlac out west."


    "And what do you think of this?" asked Vanion. Vanion had always disliked John Korlac, the Heir to the House. The man maintained a ruthless order in his country. He hung criminals whenever possible. Though no one was going hungry like here, he was a shrewd politician and great warrior.


    "It doesn''t matter." said the guard. "I''m a man at arms. Borinius sees to it that my family and I are well-fed. What happens to these is his affair, not mine."


    "Of course," said Vanion. "I apologize for asking." If someone didn''t make it their affair, everyone here would die. But, of course, this would never have happened if King Andoa II hadn''t abolished the militia system.


    It had been created by Anoa the Bright to make sure the commoners could kill tyrannical nobles. It would take a mass uprising, but it gave them bargaining power. But in an era of peace and prosperity, the idiots had traded away their spears for silver. And now that silver had been melted into a collar.


    As he moved closer to Brisgald, a mist fell over the lands. The trees began to change, seeming more and more claw-like. Soon, he could see little beyond the treetops save Brisgald looming overhead. Vanion recalled that Brisgald and Carn Gable had once been Withering domains. Then Anoa the Bright had purified Brisgald. He had conquered a great battle that had a dozen stories about it.


    It did not involve directly taking the walls. Not even Anoa the Bright could seize Brisgald by force.


    This could be said for every story about Anoa, really. He would likely have been a god if Anoa had not fiercely refused to have any god save Elranor. Finally, after years of misery and fighting, humanity had gotten Elranor. Elranor, the God of Death and Healing. It had been a bitter victory that Vanion thought was worth it.


    Things only began to go wrong after Anoa won. Then his old enemies started seeking, and everything spiraled out of control.


    But then, the castle did not look purified because of the oceans of blood Anoa had spilled. If anything, it was falling back into corruption beneath the mist rising in the woods. Moreover, the underbrush had not been cut, so any force trying to attack would find it easy to advance. So what had Borinius been doing all this time?


    He ought to lose his titles. But no noble lost their titles anymore, ever since it became taboo to kill each other. The usual way a noble lost their titles was a death on the battlefield, but the era of peace brought by Andoa ended that. Now, Lady Atravain was buying up land with help from Kafka. And she was throwing off people who couldn''t pay their debts. House De Chevlon was situated in Blackfear and other darker places. Their vampires stalked their people and other undead. And Gel Carn remained well protected under Hadleim and Sir Frederick.


    Everything was set for Antion''s destruction in a decade or two. Or for the Heir of Kings to arise and make everything right.


    Only House Gabriel was left outside. In times of peace, Vanion had no prospects for advancement. In times of war, he was always subordinate to lesser men. Nevertheless, he knew his quality and would not bow again to Argath Marn. A corrupt and brutal raider, devoid of compassion and decency. Nor would he kiss the ground at Kafka''s feet, a mere adventure chosen solely for talent at the battle.


    And in Haldren, the last holdings of his house were on the verge of being taken. To be dismissed, thrown aside when no longer helpful. Many nobles spoke of the value of Carn Gable in front of him as though to mock him.


    No.


    Vanion would not bow to this Heir of Kings and take the role of a mere steward to a worthless


    King like Gavin. Nor would he allow himself to the second of lesser men, devoid of cunning or intellect. He was Vanion Gabriel, victor of Desora, though Gail Arengeth might lie for eternity. He was the heir of Erik the Voyager, who wandered far across the lands and mapped the coasts of Calisha.


    Brisgald would be his.


    He had no use for the woman.


    Vanion scaled a tree and found that it rose over the mist so he could see the countryside for miles. Seathorius was somewhere in the distance. Where it began, and Harlenor ended remained a matter of debate. That was likely why Melchious wanted to increase his influence in this place.


    Well, Melchious would get nothing out of this deal.


    Vanion knew that a man as careless as Borinius must have many dark secrets. It was likely he was already taking bribes. He would find his records and give them to King Andoa in the worst possible way. Vanion would destroy Borinius, this simpering weakling who let his people starve. He would strip him of everything, his title, rank, and dignity, for all that was his was rightfully Vanion''s.


    Argath Marn too, would lose everything before the end. But that would be a matter for another time. For now, Vanion had Borinius to settle with.


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    However, a voice in his mind, the one who had tried to stop him, noted that bad things were already happening. And who was Vanion to stand in judgment?


    "Ah, there you are," said Melchious, emerging from the mist. "I''m glad. Are you prepared?"


    "As prepared as I will ever be," said Vanion bitterly.


    "Excellent," said Melchious, motioning to Brisgald''s gates with one hand. They groaned open. Out of them came a party who made their way down the slopes. "See now; the Duke is off on his hunting trip. Now is our chance."


    He set a hand on Vanion''s shoulder. There was a shifting in the world, and Vanion gasped. His voice was different, and he looked at his hands to find them different. Finally, he looked up to Melchious. "I appear as he does, then?"


    "Of course," said Melchious. "Come, we must reach the gates. When the next morning dawns, the spell will be broken."


    As they made their way through the trees, Vanion felt he was being watched. He was being watched with disapproval at that. He was sure what he was doing was wrong, but it was too late to return now.


    Soon, they found the slope leading up to the gates of Brisgald. And Melchious had disappeared. Vanion scaled towards the gates, which loomed above him in the mist. He realized how foolish this entire thing was. He might appear as Duke Borinius, but he did not know anything he knew. He had none of his relationships or understanding. He didn''t even see the interior of Brisgald. This was a foolish plan, even from a pragmatic perspective.


    But a foolish act was better than decaying into nothingness.


    "Who goes there?!" came the call. "...Duke Borinius, what has brought you back here so soon?"


    He was caught. It would be best to improvise. "Something extraordinary has happened," he said. "I do not know where the hunting party is, for I cannot remember much. Not even names." What now? He could go to meet Isabella, but that would be suicide. Isabella had known Duke Borinius for years; she would detect that it was not him.


    The gate opened, and a guard came forward, falling to one knee. There was no going back now.


    "Take me to my office. There are documents I must see to," Borinius had an office, didn''t he? Indeed, all lords needed such a place to attend to their duties.


    "As you wish," said the guard, "Duke Borinius." Vanion had gotten lucky.


    "And I''d rather not have too many people know I''m here," said Vanion. "Say nothing of my presence to anyone."


    "Of course," said the guard.


    When he was within, and the gates closed behind him, Vanion realized his error. He should have raced into the night when the call went out. Instead, the watchman had recognized him. Still, when the real Borinius returned, it could have been dismissed as a trick of the light. Now, he was well and truly stuck. He tried not to let his unease show as he was led to his office, and the door opened.


    "Thank you," said Vanion, nodding to the guard. "Return to your watch."


    Borinius'' office was neat. Everything was sorted and filed into sections with various titles. Bookcases were nearly spilling. For a moment, Vanion was reminded of the library at Carn Gable, where he''d spent many an hour reading. It was a familiarity that helped soothe his shattered nerves.


    Sitting down at a desk in the center of the room, he began to look through the various letters. It was partially because he was curious and wanted to take his mind off things. There were years'' worth of notes in this place, all filed away with dates written. On one side of the desk was a locked black box.


    Vanion decided to start with recent ones. He found many letters from Lords pledging their troops to the throne King Andoa II. This struck Vanion as odd. Artarq had been secured. The war had settled down as Calisha and Harlenor returned to lick their wounds. These sorts of messages would be natural ordinarily. But only if they were pledging to a full-scale military operation. At first, Vanion thought, they might have been misfiled. Yet there were dates on some of the letters, and they were recent, even days ago.


    Something needed to be fixed here. Vanion began to search through the other documents, hoping to find information. Then, he found a letter from King Andoa II indicating that he was coming to visit Brisgald. It was recent. And there were others as well, letters of goodwill from an Arkan Lantan, a rising thief. And also, from Duke Letan Marn and several foreign dignitaries, as though he were King.


    The door opened, and Vanion looked up to see Isabella looking through. Her beauty meant nothing to him now.


    "Margravine," she said, "what are you doing back here?"


    "Something came up," said Vanion. "I was reading through some old letters. One from the King, in particular."


    "You had better not be having second thoughts now," hissed Isabella in sudden venom. "We''re too deep now for you to draw out like you always do. Or are you saying you don''t want to be King?"


    This was going perfectly. Treason was afoot, and House Gabriel was not involved. Vanion could have Borinius and all his allies hung. Once they were, someone would have to replace them, and who better than the one who exposed them in the first place?


    If nothing else, it would provide enough chaos in the ranks to advance by other means. Then, he could go far with Raynald and Rusara''s support. "Of course not, dear," said Vanion. "I''m wondering where he is now."


    "Moira tells me he is coming here now," said Isabella. "You''d know this if you consulted our castle sorcerer."


    "Right, yes, of course," said Vanion. "...I think I shall go and rejoin the hunt in a moment."


    "Good," said Isabella, "I need space from you." She crossed her arms. "What happened to bring you back here so quickly? And alone. You never go anywhere alone."


    "I was separated from the others when a shadow passed over me, blacker than the darkest night," said Vanion. "I think I was knocked unconscious. When I awoke, I was lying down, and my head was fuzzy. The others were gone." So pathetic. Was this how Borinius allowed his wife to treat him? As though he were a stupid servant to be sent and directed as she willed?


    "Well, whatever it was, it isn''t my problem," muttered Isabella. "I''m going back to bed."


    Vanion wanted to follow her as she left, but he crushed it. No, what he was doing here was far more critical. It was now clear that Duke Borinius was planning outright treason. With the King of Antion approaching Brisgald, he might very well be murdered if he came here.


    Vanion had to get out of here. But first, he''d need proof of Borinius'' misdeeds.


    Looking through the various documents, he found ones that hinted at the true plan. Various statements offhand, which alone were not much, but together were suspicious. Borinius had been preparing an army, planning a coup. And it would begin when the King got here.


    He opened the black box he''d seen and piled the relevant documents into it. Then, shutting it, he closed the box and stood up. Borinius'' plans still needed to be completed. There was still time to stop the situation before it became a civil war. Vanion reminded himself that he must keep good intentions, as well as his advancement.


    Rising from his seat, Vanion glanced behind him and saw that morning was coming. He carried the box with him out the door and into the hall. Then, quietly, he shut the door behind him.


    He made his way quickly back the way he had come. Several times, he passed guards who greeted him, and he nodded to each one in turn. Each time, he feared he''d make some misstep that would reveal him as an imposter. The black box beneath his cloak felt heavier than the entire world.


    Yet he did not misstep, and soon, he reached the gate.


    "Sir," said a guard, "you mean to go out alone?"


    "Yes," said Vanion, "there is something I need to attend to, and it won''t wait."


    "Are you certain?" asked the guard. "I could send some men with you."


    The morning was coming. Vanion could see the sun''s aura radiating in the distance. He was running out of time. "This must be done alone," said Vanion. "Now open the gates, damn you."


    The gates creaked open slowly. What took only moments seemed to take ages, but at last, Vanion walked through. Making his way down the path as quickly as he dared, he reached the road and walked faster. This situation had to be dealt with.


    As he walked down the path, the wind wailed through the trees. The branches leaned downward ever closer, and the mists arose again. Vanion could sense something in the clouds and put one hand on his sword.


    "Where do you think you are going, Vanion?" came the simple question.


    Vanion felt his heart skip a beat. His body was freezing; his hands were shaking. The morning must have dawned, for the disguise melted away around him. His skin was crawling as a shadow loomed in the mist. Vanion drew his sword and turned toward the shadow, yet it was gone.


    "Well?" came the question.


    "I''m going to report Duke Borinius'' treason," said Vanion. He''d been hoping to get out without being seen. So, his best bet was that Melchious could not hurt him. But, just in case, he readied to draw his sword.


    "That was in no way part of our arrangement," said Melchious.


    "Indeed?" asked Vanion. "Well, other arrangements have been made. That plan of yours was terrible. I had no idea where Borinius'' bedroom was, let alone how to impersonate him."


    "Are you trying to cheat me?" asked Melchious, amused.


    "I would have thought you, a demon, would hold an appreciation for what I am doing. Instead, I am following the letter of an arrangement. All while ignoring its intent," said Vanion. He was trying to put on a bold face. "Nothing has been born of my lust, and so nothing is your due."


    "Is that so?" asked Melchious. "I understand it all too well."


    A shadow swooped out of the mist, and Vanion ducked as a black claw went for his throat. Lashing out with his sword, Vanion felt it impact something, and there was a screech of pain. His sword was grabbed and wrested from his hand, and his enemy bore down on him, gripping his neck and squeezing.


    Choking, Vanion drew out a dagger and stabbed wildly. The grip loosened with an unholy shriek, and he broke free, slashing desperately. Then, something lashed out and threw him across the dust. Stunned, he was barely able to roll aside as the shadow descended. With his hands, Vanion tried to keep it away from him, and they grappled there, rolling in the dust. Its claws were leaving bloody gashes in his arms. With every passing moment, the shadow was getting closer to his throat.


    Then, a beam of white light shot out of the mist and hit the shadow. It screamed and took flight as a man in pure white armor that concealed his face came into sight. Vanion winced at the pain of his wounds. The shadow returned. Yet the man raised his sword in a challenge, and the creature hesitated. It fled.


    "Well, you''ve had an eventful day, haven''t you," said the man. "What possessed you to travel alone?"


    "Pure idiocy," said Vanion, finding the black box and picking it up. "My thanks to you. May I ask your business in these parts?"


    "I am walking ahead of the King''s entourage," said the knight. "Might I ask you the same question?"


    "I am Vanion Gabriel," said Vanion. "I have an urgent message for King Andoa. It cannot wait." He paused. "It is a matter of treason."


    The man drew off his helm, and Vanion stared in shock as he beheld who it was he had been speaking. He stood up straight and fell to one knee as the man came forward.


    "Really?" asked King Andoa II of Antion. "Do tell."


    Now, to tell the story right. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 9 - Eight: Lair of the Beast

    "The King had been going ahead to clear his mind. But, as soon as Father showed him the documents he found, things changed. He once searched the forests with his guard, found Borinius, and took him as a prisoner. The Duke was tried, found guilty, stripped of his title, and given a gilded prison to live out his days within.


    "Brisgald was given to House Gabriel. After my grandfather died, Father became Duke of Brisgald and gave it to his brother, Arthur. As well as Lord of Carn Gable," William finished his story.


    "Wait a minute, so he proves the evil overlord is guilty of treason. Brings it to the right people, and the bad guy just gets off scot-free?" asked Kiyora. "That''s a terrible ending!"


    "I''m telling you what happened, not-" said William before he stopped. "When did you even get here?"


    "A while ago," said Kiyora. "I usually dream on these occasions."


    "I share my goddess'' bemusement," said Houndslasher. "Why would they let Borinius live?"


    "Borinius had a great many relatives and friends," said William. "He''d have had to for his plans to succeed. King Andoa II is well-known for his mercy and doesn''t want to start a blood feud. Many shared your view and wanted to see him hung, but Andoa is King of his land." He sighed. "Father cheated Melchious, and he prospered for it. The Gabriel clan became even more potent than it was before that night.


    "My Father ruled over Brisgald in Grandfather''s name. He made things far better for everyone. Reduced taxes and ceased the cruelties that Borinius perpetuated. When Father inherited Carn Gable, he gave Brisgald to his younger brother, Talion. Melchious got nothing.


    "To have done great good with no benefit to himself?" asked Bjorn. "That seems like the sort of thing a demon would take personally."


    "I know," said William. "I''ve been terrified of Melchious all my life. Everyone has. Now I''m in Seathorius, the heart of his power."


    "You will have to confront him," said Bjorn. "Perhaps not this day or this year. Yet you are right to fear him. These sorts of... arrangements always end in a reckoning of one kind or another.


    "One day, you or one of your family will have to face Melchious. He will neither forgive nor forget his humiliation. So many of our heroes have learned in time."


    William shuddered. For a moment, there was silence.


    "I''m trying to decide what part of my subconscious this represents," mused Kiyora. "I''m drawing a blank." Then she faded from view.


    "She is often drawn here in times of worship," said Bjorn. "And leaves as quickly. Her connection to the dream is not as strong as when she receives a call for help. But, we''ve grown used to it."


    "I see," said William.


    "On that sobering note," said Hrothgar, "the stories you two have told are well worth the food you have eaten. They will likely make good tales in the future, long after we have all grown old. But, for now, we must concern ourselves with giving you a chance.


    "What are your plans? And how may we assist them?"


    William remained silent and realized the decision was his and his alone. He could not ask Felix for help. At first, he considered asking for shelter. The dwarves could send runners to Artarq, and his father could send someone to retrieve him. It was simple; it was safe. So why wasn''t he going to do it?


    The shame of his failure on the ships had now awoken something inside him. It was driving him to do something bold and foolish and altogether reckless. It stuck in his throat as he felt their eyes on him.


    Finally, he blurted out: "I mean to travel to Artarq on foot."


    There, it was done.


    The dwarves looked surprised and impressed. Felix just looked dumbstruck. Silence overtook them momentarily as Bjorn drew out a pipe and lit it. He blew out a giant smoke ring, which rose larger and larger. Then, it stopped over all their heads. The smoke began to spin, transforming into mist and descending on the remnants of the feast.


    Then, the feast was gone. So were the plates and utensils. Only the cups remained, and each one was filled with blood-red wine.


    "Are you certain?" asked Bjorn, looking very ancient indeed. "Seathorius is a realm of dreams. Once your journey begins, there is no telling what perils you will encounter."


    "All the more reason to save someone the trouble of having to come to get me," said William. "And anyway, as long as I''m here, I''m endangering all of you. I got myself into this mess; I will get myself out."


    "Are you insane?" asked Felix. "You''ve read the stories! There are far worse things than satyrs waiting for us in the woods."


    "You don''t have to come, Felix," said William. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes, I do!" snapped Felix. "Raynald would slice and dice me if he found out I left you alone! And you''d never make it on your own."


    "Then it looks to be decided," said Houndslasher. "We will supply you with provisions and equipment ¡ª some better shoes for a start and new clothes. And rope, definitely rope. I would leave tomorrow if I were you. It rarely pays to wait long in Seathorius."


    "Do you have any maps?" asked William.


    "No map could be made of Seathorius," laughed Bjorn. "It would be outdated the next day. However, if I were you, I would travel north along the river until you reach the coast. The river and sea are always roughly the same places, so you can walk along them until you reach more stable lands."


    "He is right," said Felix. "Artarq is a coastal province anyway."


    "I know," said William.


    "Be careful as you walk," warned Bjorn. "The satyrs are behind, but they may choose to pursue you. And Melchious has other agents in these lands." He raised a cup. "Now, a toast to the gods!" Everyone else raised their cups as well. "To the gods!" They echoed.


    William and Felix were given a place to sleep in the halls of Houndslasher that night. He slept without a dream. He awoke the following day feeling much more refreshed. New clothes were provided for them, better suited to their size and warmer. They were also given new cloaks made of gray fur and walking sticks. Supplies were given to them, along with some excellent advice. Finally, Bjorn brought them outside the hall to see them off.


    The river looked beautiful in the morning light, and the birds were singing. Several kinds of flowers were blooming along the river. William thought it looked like lovely weather for travel. "I understand you mean to avoid any confrontations here in Seathorius," said Bjorn. "Remember to head north and don''t lose sight of the river. Then, when you reach the shore, you can seek shelter with the otters. They are good folk and worship Queen Yagos as well. I expect they will shelter you so long as you don''t do anything foolish. Though I don''t expect things will go nearly as well as all that."


    "Why are you so confident we''re destined for destruction?" asked Felix.


    "Destruction?" asked Bjorn. "No. Adventure? Without a doubt. That is the way of Seathorius. However, nothing can ever be simple. That is why we have these for you." He motioned, and Moira came forward with two short swords in ornate leather sheaths.


    William took him in hand and unsheathed it. The blade was shaped like a leaf, and the design was elegant without much adornment. Testing the edge, he marveled at how light it was, how beautiful it looked when it glinted in the sun. He opened his mouth, but he did not trust himself to speak.


    "It is marvelous," he managed at last. "Why would you give us such treasures?"


    "You are under the protection of our goddess," said Bjorn. "We wish others to know of our skill with blades. If they do, we might be commissioned to forge more of them.


    "But that is a secondary concern."


    "We are grateful for all your help," said William. "If ever you need aid that I can provide, ask, and I will do what I can to repay my debt."


    "We prefer to see to our own problems," said Bjorn. "But we shall remember it."


    Felix looked at his blade without expression. "...I have no idea how to use this."


    "Just stick the pointed end in the other man," said William with a laugh. "And anyway, we both know that''s not true. You practiced stances with Raynald and me before; you know how to use them."


    "Not as much as I should like," admitted Felix. "Either way, thank you. Though I''m sure William will find a way to break his sooner or later."


    "I only did it twice!" objected William. "It isn''t my fault if I''m stronger than most people my age."


    "I doubt you''ll be able to break these," said Moira. "Not unless you try. These weapons were made for dwarves; they can take much more force than humans. So I helped to make both of them myself."


    "I didn''t know you were a smith," said William as he sheathed the sword and set it to his belt.


    "I learned when I was a girl," admitted Moira. "Our craft takes many years to perfect."


    "Goodbye," said Bjorn. "And good luck. The Dreaming Goddess will watch over you, but there are things even she cannot face." He looked to the tree, and William followed his gaze. The bodies which had lain there before were gone; now, only bones remained.


    William bowed before taking up his walking stick and leading Felix along the river. They headed north as they had been instructed. The air was fresh and breezy, and the sound of the river gushing against the rocks was soothing to their nerves. The cast above was overcast, but it was otherwise pleasant weather. So they had an excellent time.


    The days passed like the winds around them, affecting them only briefly before they moved on past it. William had never before been on or wanted to be on an adventure. He now found himself feeling a particular enthusiasm for it all. Here was the sort of journey people told stories about around the hearth on cold winter nights. The kind of journey that historians recorded in old books. The type to be passed to future generations.


    "Why are you smiling?" asked Felix in annoyance. "This is insanity."


    The smile William had not known he''d been wearing faded with his embarrassment. "Um... well, I thought this would all seem very impressive when we get to Artarq."


    "If we get to Artarq, you mean," said Felix. "Which is not likely at all. Also, even if we do, Duke Vanion will be furious with you for coming. He will be angry with Raynald and Rusara for putting the idea into your mind. And angry at me for not informing Lady Azgora before it began.


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    "I expect he''ll have me reassigned.


    "And that isn''t even going into what your mother will do to you and me. I expect she will keep you on a chain after this."


    "Okay, but to everyone else, it will seem very impressive," said William.


    "In what way?" asked Felix. "All we did was wash ashore, get captured by satyrs, rescued by a goddess, and equipped by dwarves. So we haven''t accomplished anything."


    "We survived," said William. "Other people would have died before they reached the shore."


    "Yes, perhaps the bards will sing about our ability to avoid drowning," muttered Felix.


    "Well, you picked the lock on your cell, snuck past the guards, and set fire to the satyr village," said William. "That''s something."


    "I lied," admitted Felix. "The guards were dead drunk and started a fight. The one with the keys got knocked out, and I managed to swipe them off him while he was reeling."


    "It is still pretty impressive," said William. "And you did sneak past them."


    "They were dead drunk. It wasn''t," muttered Felix.


    "How did the fire start?" asked William.


    "Oh, I threw a torch into one of the houses as I said," said Felix. "But anyone could have done that."


    This kind of attitude from Felix soured William''s mood. And to make matters worse, the clouds became darker and thicker above them. No doubt it would rain soon.


    Felix was right; his mother would put him in chains for what he''d done. Father would agree with her, too, and he''d never see Raynald or Rusara again. As twilight gave way to darkness, they stopped and created a fire beneath the forest''s edge.


    "We''re leaving a watch tonight," said Felix. "We should have done it before, but we weren''t thinking. This time, someone has to stay awake. I''ll take the first watch and wake you when it''s your turn."


    "Right," said William, "I''m going to catch some sleep."


    He lay down on his back and looked up at the stars coming out where the clouds didn''t conceal them. It occurred to William that the stars shone down on them wherever one walked in this world. Their light could be, for a time, concealed by clouds and weather. But they remained on high, watching the world. It was said that Elranor came from the stars long ago and liberated humanity from the tyranny of the elves. William was confident, no, sure that Elranor had been behind Kiyora''s rescue. The timing of it all was too convenient to be a mere coincidence.


    His mind turned to his promise to Elranor. Would god ask him to honor it? William remembered the demoness'' mocking words and doubted he could be helpful to his god. However, if Elranor did ask for his service, what would he do?


    William decided he would yield it for whatever it was worth. It was the only decent thing to do. You couldn''t break promises and oaths, or the world would fall apart. The following day, he awoke to find that Felix had drifted off to sleep without waking him. He felt a tinge of irritation as he arose and prodded his friend. Finally, Felix opened his eyes and looked up.


    "What is it?" asked the other boy.


    "You were supposed to wake me," said William


    "I forgot," admitted Felix. "Let''s keep moving."


    On they traveled for a little way. Soon, they came onto the rocky ground with many great stones lying on the river bank. The river became a waterfall a little further, rushing towards the sea. Finally, as they neared the foaming crest, they saw the ocean in the morning light. It was beautiful to look on, and William breathed out in relief.


    "Well, that is one part of the journey," said William. "Once we reach the shore, I can think of two things we might do."


    "What are they?" asked Felix, looking around.


    "We can start a bonfire and hope to attract the attention of nearby ships," said William. "Or we can walk along the shore and try to take shelter with these otters while we do it."


    "The latter seems wisest to me," said Felix. "The satyrs have shipped as well. Raynald and Rusara have almost certainly put to shore by now anyway. So we''re best off staying the course and doing as Bjorn suggested."


    "Weren''t you against this course of action?" asked William.


    "While under the protection of the dwarves, we could afford to stay in one place," said Felix. "We are on our own, so we should keep moving." Then he saw something. "Get down!" And he threw himself to the ground. William followed him and followed his gaze.


    Coming downriver in the distance was a riverboat crewed by many satyrs. They were dressed for war. Their skin and fur were painted red with horrible markings. And at their head was Doltier. William shuddered in fear, remembering the white-furred satyr''s grip on him before. He looked at Felix and saw the other boy looked as afraid as he felt. Fortunately, the satyrs had not yet seen them. He thought of their options and mastered himself.


    "We need to run now," said William.


    "They''d catch us for sure," said Felix. "Behind the rocks quickly."


    They crawled behind one of the splendid stones and got to their knees. Then, hardly daring to breathe, William looked around the corner of one stone. The satyrs had beached their vessel and were leaping ashore. Dottier was in the front, scanning the ground.


    He said something on his tongue to his warriors, and they fanned out, searching around. Even if the satyrs had not seen them, they knew they were in this region. William realized they would indeed be caught if they stayed here. It was too open, and sooner or later, a satyr would find its hiding place. No, there were other options.


    They were very near the woods. He tapped Felix on the shoulder and motioned to the trees. They had never looked less inviting, and Felix gave him a look that said as much. William grabbed him by the hand and led him into them. They got into the trees moments before Doltier checked their stone.


    The white satyr kneeled by it, sniffing.


    William didn''t wait any longer. He made a break for it, and so did Felix, trying to go quickly while not making any noise. They had not gone far before a familiar hollering could be heard. The two of them broke into a sprint. Branches and vines bombarded them as they ran for their lives. But there was not a sound after the first holler. If the satyrs were following, they were doing it quietly.


    Coming out of the underbrush, they found themselves in a massive mound in the center of a clearing. The satyrs were nearly on them; William could feel it, and he knew they could not escape them by speed alone. William drew out his sword and whirled around, mentally preparing himself to fight. They would not take him easily ¡ª not this time.


    Then Felix grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him around the mound so they had it between them and the satyrs. However, it was not a moment too soon, for Doltier and company burst out from the trees with their blades in hand. Then William and Felix were out of sight. It wasn''t enough, though; they had only moments before the satyrs found them.


    Then William saw the hole. It was small, just large enough for someone lying down to crawl into it on their knees. It led to the base of the mound. William hoped he would be able to fit. Sheathing his sword, he got down on his hands and knees before crawling into it. He heard Felix coming up behind him as they moved into the darkness. The voices of satyrs could be heard drawing near. William knew that they were now just outside the cave.


    William hoped this hole led somewhere, not to a wolf''s open mouth.


    The ceiling soon became much higher, and he could stand up. The air within was oddly warm, and there was a strange thrumming noise like breathing. Then, raising a hand, William felt very cold.


    "I can''t see," said Felix. "What do we do?"


    William thought quickly. "Felix, I''m going to try and make some light. Stand by the entrance with your sword out, and if the satyrs try to come in, stab them. They''ll be at a disadvantage."


    "Right," said Felix, drawing his sword and kneeling by the dim light of the entrance. William raised a hand and looked into the darkness. There was that breathing noise again. Remembering the techniques Rusara had taught him, William muttered the incantations. He tried to summon the spirit of the sun as best he could. Nothing happened.


    He tried again and put his will into it. This time, he received a slight flicker. Seeking a third time, he managed it. A sphere of white light appeared over his palm and illuminated his surroundings. Oh.


    All around him were gold and jewels and silver piled high. Priceless artifacts of all kinds were everywhere. William found his mouth going dry, looking at it. In particular, something caught his eye.


    It was a harp of gold, carved with beautiful and robust strings that thrummed like a beating heart. It was hanging from a peg set into the wall and was still strung. It looked in perfect condition, so it couldn''t have been here for long unless it was magical. The latter seemed more likely.


    There was a scream of pain, and William looked to see Felix holding a bloody sword. Something was withdrawing back to the surface. Muttered cursing resounded. They had a good position, but safety had passed.


    How long could they hold the satyrs at bay? The creatures might need to have brought adequate supplies. But, on the other hand, William and Felix might hold out for some time. Perhaps even long enough for the satyrs to give up the hunt.


    What was that breathing noise?


    Then he saw the source.


    Lying on a bed of gold, its pelt blending in, was an enormous lion, faintly snoring and shifting. It was as if it were in some uneasy dream of hunting. No, not a lion. Lions did not have three heads: a goat, a dragon, or a cat. No lion alive was as massive as the creature before them, for one leg was nearly as tall as William.


    They were trapped inside a cave with the beast, and the satyrs barred the only exit. It was sleeping soundly, but how long would that last? William doubted they had long enough for the satyrs to give up.


    Felix saw it, too.


    William backed away from the creature and bumped into the fallen harp. He barely caught it before it hit the ground. He gulped in a cold sweat as the chimera shifted, purring at some dream it was having. What did chimeras dream of?


    "What do we do?" asked Felix.


    William needed a plan, and he needed it now. "I don''t know," he admitted. "We could surrender, but we might be better off being eaten by the creature." An idea occurred. "That''s it! Get away from the cave mouth."


    "What?" asked Felix. "But-"


    "Do it," said Wiliam. "We want the satyrs to come in here. Then, when they get in, we''ll wake the chimera. It''ll go after them first, or I hope it will, and we can use the confusion to escape."


    "That may work," said Felix, sounding doubtful, though he did as he was told.


    Yet the satyrs did not come in. They waited and waited, but the chimera kept sleeping, and the satyrs did nothing. Had they somehow heard their conversation? It seemed unlikely. Then William noticed that the light from the hole entrance was getting dimmer.


    "Felix," he said, "go look and see what is blocking the cave entrance."


    "Oh no, it''s your turn this time," said Felix.


    "Right, right," said William.


    He made his way forward and kneeled to look. The satyrs had piled many sticks and branches over the entrance. Dry leaves were also being shoved there. But why? What could they gain-


    The branches burst into flame.


    William staggered back in horror as he realized their plan. "They lit a fire. They mean to smoke us out."


    "What do we do?" asked Felix for the second time.


    "I don''t know," answered William again, and this time, nothing came to him. "Get down low." Smoke began to pour into the room, a little at first, but more and more came in, rising to cover the ceiling in clouds. Laughter could be heard from outside the cave. Felix crouched with William, looking like he was on the verge of panicking.


    "We should surrender," said Felix.


    "That''ll be worse than death," said William. "And the smoke might-"


    There was a deep, almost confused groaning, bleating, and hissing noise. The chimera stirred. William hid his light beneath his cloak as the creature stood up lazily. He prayed that it would not see them. The beast sniffed the air. Then, the lion and the dragon roared, and the goat bleated angrily. The sound was horrible and hurt his ears.


    Then, the light from the fire was blocked. The chimera squeezed through the hole with great speed. All of a sudden, the satyrs weren''t laughing anymore. There was a bloodcurdling scream outside, and William hoped it was Doltier. There were cries of fear and war, and still, more roaring could be heard.


    Felix moved for the exit.


    "No, wait!" said William. "They''ll run! It''ll pursue them, and then we move out!"


    "We should go now," said Felix.


    The screaming stopped. The chimera''s paws crunched as the scattered fire came to them. William saw it coming toward them, entering the cave again. Without thinking about it or knowing why, he drew up the harp he had found. The creature slithered into the cave with horrific speed. It rushed toward him, roaring.


    William ran his hand across the strings of the harp.


    The chimera halted as the first of William''s notes went through its ears. No sooner had the music died, but it snarled and coiled for a spring. William began to play again, and its muscles relaxed. As he played, the chimera sat down on its haunches while William played his harp without any idea what to do next.


    So play he did. Every time he began to slow, the creature would let out a growl or advance, and he would have to continue. He tried gradually inching toward the entrance, but then the dragon head let out a roar, and he had to keep playing. Finally, the lion began to purr, and the goat head made noises of appreciation.


    "Felix," said William, "get out of here. I''ll keep it occupied."


    "I''m not going anywhere without you," said Felix.


    Helpless to do anything else, William continued to play the harp. As he did so, there was a sense that filled him. It was a sense of everything in the surrounding area. He could feel the satyr''s fear as they fled this place. He could sense the deaths that had happened, which made him sad. But, it wasn''t just the deaths of the satyrs. It was the ends of ants and many other creatures he was unaware of, which had died today.


    Their lives led to other things, more important things. William felt like someone was with him, someone he had known all his life yet never met. It was strange and breathtaking.


    The smoke drained from the cave quickly, as though sped by some magic. His fingers were hurting from the constant work of playing it. He felt sweat drench his brow; his heart beat faster than he knew possible.


    The chimera continued to purr and went over to its bed of gold and lay down. Soon, its purrs became snores again. Finally, it was asleep, and they were beneath notice.


    It was a few minutes before William dared to stop playing. Finally, he sank to his knees and stopped, flexing his sore fingers. Looking at Felix, he sighed in relief. "Come on, let''s get out of here."


    "Let''s kill the beast first," said Felix, raising his sword. "I don''t want it coming after us."


    "No," said William firmly, "no killing. It minded its own business when we barged into its home. So we''re leaving now."


    "Could you fill your pack with gold first?" asked Felix. "We might as well have something to show for our troubles."


    "I don''t think that''s a good idea, Felix," said William. "It has a dragon head. We ought to leave the treasure behind."


    "You took the harp," snapped Felix. "Let me choose my trophy."


    "Do as you like," said William, not in the mood to argue. "But if that thing comes after us, it''s your fault."


    "You mean like all of this is your fault?" asked Felix.


    William didn''t much like this new side of Felix at all. He felt that greed was something to be avoided in this situation. Even so, he didn''t want to argue. It might have just been a Calishan thing, this lust for gold. So he let Felix fill his pack with the gold and jewels he desired before both slipped out of the cave. William didn''t like the extra weight, but he supposed the gold would lead to their credibility.

 Chapter 10 - Nine: Bloodied Hands

    They were assailed with the smell of death when they got outside the chimera''s lair. Half a dozen satyr corpses were lying around them, bloodied. Some looked to have had pieces of them bitten off. One had been torn in half. William felt a surge of pity and horror. To die in such a way was indescribable.


    "They had no idea what they were waking up," realized William.


    "They tried to smoke us to death," said Felix. "Less sympathy, more moving."


    "Which way?" asked William.


    "I..." Felix paused. "All right, the hole was on the opposite side of the mound from where we came in. So if we go straight from the other side of this mound, we should find our way back to the river."


    "That makes sense to me," said William. "Let''s go."


    They ran.


    The two boys moved with everything they had. With each passing moment, they were afraid they might hear the hollers of satyrs or the roar of the chimera. Soon, their legs were aching, and their lungs were burning. William''s heart was beating so hard he feared it would burst from his chest. Yet they saw no sign of the river. Then, they came to a sheer cliff rising high above them.


    They collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. Then, for a few minutes, they kneeled there, getting their bearings. Then they rose.


    "This was not here before," said William. "What happened? Do you think we aimed wrong?"


    "Maybe," said Felix. "Still, our general direction is toward the shore. We should find a place where it levels out if we walk along here."


    "No," said William, "we''ll climb it. If we scale up this thing, the satyrs might have difficulty following us, and that chimera won''t be able to at all."


    "I don''t know," said Felix.


    "At the very least, it may have trouble picking up our scent," said William.


    He reached out and found a handhold on the rock before pulling himself up. It was more difficult than at Carn Gable, of course. He needed to find out where all the footholds were. Worse still, he was carrying a heavy pack that Felix had stuffed with valuables. Nevertheless, he made his way slowly up and soon neared the top. Glancing down, he saw that Felix had barely started. The other boy was clinging to the rock desperately.


    "Are you all right?" asked William.


    Felix looked up, sweat dripping down his brow. "Yes... I just..." He hauled himself up a little further. "This pack is too heavy. I don''t think I can take it all up here."


    "Climb back down; I''ll be right with you," said William.


    Then he pulled himself over the top and pulled off his pack. Setting it down, he scaled back down toward Felix. Felix was gasping for air at the base and was beginning to unpack the gold. "Put those back," said William. "If we leave things behind, anyone here will know we came this way. Could you give me the pack? I''ll take it up, and you can climb without the burden."


    "Right," said Felix, "I... I really shouldn''t-"


    "Forget it," said William.


    They began to scale the cliff once more, and once more, William reached the top ahead of Felix despite his burden. He helped Felix get over the top, and then the two paused momentarily to catch their breath. William felt a little winded while Felix was gasping for air.


    "How do you do this?" asked Felix. "Keep going?"


    "It''s in my blood, I suppose," said William. "Come, we''ll get out of sight of the woods below. Then we can rest and have something to eat."


    When they had gotten out of sight, William set down his pack and began to search through it. It occurred to William that his new harp might have been battered to splinters. He frantically removed it from his bag. It was completely unharmed. Looking over it, he once again marveled at its craft. He wondered how it could be so strong after all the time it had lain there. It had to be magical.


    Drawing out his waterskin, he sipped it, and Felix did the same with his own.


    "That harp," said Felix, "what kind of enchantment is on it?"


    "Several, I think," said William. "I''ll have Rusara look at it when we find her."


    "Speaking of which," said Felix, "how near are we to the sea anyway? We must be getting nearby now."


    "That depends on which way the shore is," said William. "Depending on how wrong our bearings were, we could have been heading away from it."


    Felix only said something else once they had eaten. William did not blame him, for the morning''s excitement had taken a lot out of them. Annoyingly, the rations had been battered to pieces. The gold and jewels Felix had filled their packs with had done that much, at least.


    Then Felix pointed upwards. William followed his motion and looked to the sky. The clouds were gathering overhead.


    "It looks like it might rain," said William.


    "No, I mean the tree," said Felix. "It is taller than the rest and in a high place. If you scaled up it, we could see around Seathorius. We''d be able to know how close Savior''s Run is and where we are about the sea."


    "Good idea, Felix," said William. "Wait here and guard the packs."


    Scaling the tree was much more comfortable than climbing trees in Carn Gable. The branches in these were lower and twisted so that one could quickly get very high if they were skilled. As he clambered higher, William remembered long ago when he feared heights. His mother had taken him to the tallest tree in the area and ordered him to scale it.


    He''d obeyed. It had taken him a week of work and many scraped knees, but he had managed it. Then he''d fallen out on his way down and broken his arm. His mother hadn''t said anything; she carried him back to the healer and saw that he had fully recovered. After that, she''d never spoken of the whole thing again. He''d wanted her to be proud of him, but she had forgotten she''d even given him the task.


    Since then, he''d gotten very good at climbing.


    William emerged at the top of the tree and looked around. He saw before him all the lands of Seathorius flowing outward. They were beautiful, and they were changing. Before his very eyes, he could see the trees and hills changing position. Only the area around the river and the sea did not change ¡ª the very far away river. In the opposite direction of the way they had been going.


    What was wrong with that thought process? Oh, that was what was wrong.


    "Son of a-" William stopped before climbing down in a fouler mood than ever.


    "What is it?" asked Felix.


    "The land changed!" snapped William. "Bjorn warned us this would happen, and we didn''t listen! While we were in the chimera''s lair, it twisted itself up! As a result, we''ve been heading in exactly the opposite direction we ought to have gone!"


    "So we should go back," guessed Felix.


    "What''s the point?" asked William. "Even if we backtrack, it''ll just shift again. We''re so far away from river and sea at this point that we might as well cut out losses. We''ll try to cut straight through to Artarq." He sighed. "Okay, are you ready to keep moving?"


    "I can go on," said Felix. "I just needed some time to rest."


    "Good," said William, "we''ll put some distance between us and where we were. With any luck, the satyrs and the chimera are just as lost as we are."


    "Maybe," mused Felix, "but they know this place better than us. They may have a means of navigating where we can''t."


    "We''ll think about that later," said William. "Let''s go."


    Thunder rolled from the clouds above, and Felix narrowed his eyes as he slung a pack over one shoulder. "I think we may need to find shelter soon."


    "We''ll see what we can find while we travel," said William.


    William kept the harp in his hands as they journeyed onward. Enchanted or not, he did not like the idea of it bouncing around in his pack with the valuables Felix had found. Said valuables stuck into his back every so often. He was forever shifting his bag to make it more comfortable. In the meantime, he kept his harp beneath his cloak to protect it from any sudden downpour.


    The trees around them had become strange. They looked normal at first glance, but the longer one gazed at them, the more they seemed... unknown. It was a difficult thing to comprehend. William found himself walking slower despite their need for haste. Looking around him, he kept expecting to see eyes watching from the underbrush.


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    Then, it began to rain, as he feared. Droplets of water poured down on the branches above, dripping them. William raised his hood and saw Felix do the same. He looked around for shelter.


    "There is a bit of good cover here," said William.


    Felix shook his head. "We should keep moving."


    They picked up their pace, but the strangeness surrounding them grew in intensity. The trees seemed to pulse with some unholy presence. William was unsure what was watching them, but he didn''t like it. Felix sensed it, too; he could tell by how he kept glancing around. The branches above them looked more and more like claws grasping for each other. Their distance seemed to blur as the night passed, and the shadows grew longer.


    William stowed his harp in his pack. Although he felt guilty doing so, he needed to be able to draw his sword. Something was sticking into his back. The backpack over his shoulder seemed more cumbersome than ever. He looked at Felix. "The valuables we stole are slowing us down, Felix. We should get rid of them."


    "Oh, that''s all very easy for you to say," said Felix. "You''ve never been poor a day in your life. I have, and I don''t want to repeat the experience."


    William wasn''t sure how to respond. He had never heard what it was that had led to Felix being sold at the slave market. He or his mother. He did not intend to ask. It was a sensitive subject for his friend.


    "What good are gold or jewels if the satyrs kill us?" he asked instead.


    "What good is a harp against satyrs?" asked Felix.


    "The harp saved us from the chimera," noted William.


    "You didn''t know it could when you first picked it up," said Felix.


    "I had the idea that it was magical," said William. "And anyway, what has it to do with the gold weighing us down? Something that creates music is far more valuable than all the gold in the world."


    "I wish you wouldn''t try so hard to sound wise," said Felix. "You aren''t, and everyone knows you aren''t. And I''m not getting rid of the gold."


    William felt a surge of irritation. He wasn''t willing to leave Felix behind. Even if he got rid of the wretched trinkets in his pack, he''d have to check his pace. Felix was dragging them both down for nothing. Why did he care so much about the money? Their lives were on the line.


    "I could order you to get rid of them, you know," said William. "You are my servant."


    "And I could point out that if you hadn''t been such a coward, we wouldn''t be in this situation in the first place!" snapped Felix.


    William opened his mouth to reply and then shut it. He didn''t trust himself to speak. They were both in a bad temper, and harsh words could lead to worse conflict. Besides, he was right.


    "I''m sorry," said Felix. "I shouldn''t have said that."


    "No, you are right," said William. "I threw down my weapons and ran when I should have fought. Raynald or Mother would have-"


    "Come off it," said Felix. "We''re children. I only said what I did because it was a sore spot. You''re probably right. We should at least get rid of some of it."


    William''s senses began to scream. He tensed as he felt a presence heading toward them. Something terrible was about to happen. He could feel it. Even as Felix slung off his pack, William rushed forward to tackle him to the ground.


    A spear sailed over their heads and planted itself in a tree.


    Out of the darkness came a satyr holding a scimitar. It stabbed at them, and William rolled aside, getting to his feet while throwing off his pack. Ducking under a sword blow meant for his neck, he backed away to avoid an onslaught of slashes. Then, drawing his sword, he parried three strokes and stopped. William turned their sword and raked it across the hand. Then he rolled away from its counterattack, feeling the air of the blade near his ear.


    He brought his blade around and slashed it across the side of the neck. Blood spewed from where he struck onto his hands, and the creature fell backward. It clutched at its wound. It gasped for air, rolling in the dirt, then fell still as its blood soaked the ground.


    William had killed it. He had slain another humanoid creature. In single combat. In honorable combat. In self-defense. However, it did not matter. He looked into its dead eyes and then into his blood-soaked hands. He tried wiping the blood off his clothes, but the stain remained. It would always be there.


    What had he done?


    "William..." gasped Felix.


    William looked up and saw his friend. He was lying on the ground, clutching a deep wound in the stomach. His clothes and hands were stained red with his blood. Felix had been hurt! He ran to him. "Felix, are you all right?" But, of course, he wasn''t all right; he was hurt badly.


    "It... it hurts..." said Felix, face looking pale.


    Setting aside his blade, William stared in horror. What did he do? What did he do? "You''ll be fine, Felix, I''ll; I''ll use my cloak as a bandage, so just-"


    "I don''t want to die..." said Felix, the voice of dawning realization. "I don''t want to die..."


    "You aren''t going to die!" said William. "You can''t die!"


    Felix smiled distantly. "Not... not... much choice, is there?"


    His eyes were dimming, and he was going still. Felix''s lifeblood was soaking his hands. William could do nothing. He took off his cloak but knew it would do no good.


    He needed a healer! He needed help!


    Then, suddenly, William realized he had all the power he needed. It flowed into him from an outside source, from Elranor. He set his hands upon Felix and focused his will through the wound. A warm glow came from his hands, and he felt an unfathomable power surge through him and into Felix. It was beyond any accurate description. Felix gasped as the wound closed and healed without a scar, as though it had never been.


    William breathed in relief. Felix stared.


    "What did you do?" asked Felix.


    "I... Elranor helped me heal you," said William. "I think. Can you stand?"


    "Give me my water skin," said Felix. "I need water."


    "Right," said William, giving him his own. "Drink carefully."


    Felix sat up and did so. He nearly finished the waterskin, but William didn''t blame him. He''d lost a lot of blood. Then he looked at William. "How did you do that?"


    "I don''t know," admitted William. "I know Elranor helped us, but it came naturally. It was like the charm I used to create the light, but... different. More instinctive. He helped us like he did when he sent Kiyora to help us."


    "Great," said Felix, standing up and picking up his pack. "We should get moving. Where one satyr was, there are probably others."


    "Yes," said William, "you are right."


    He wiped his sword off on the grass and sheathed it. Then he picked up his pack, and they were off. They''d lost their walking sticks at some point when they were fleeing the satyrs. William couldn''t remember when, exactly, but he regretted it now. Felix was unsteady on his feet and could not go very fast. Several times, he had to stop to rest.


    Darkness was growing around them, and William dared not risk any light. He had the feeling enemies were close at hand, quietly stalking them. It was maddening to think they were being pursued. Even more, maddening did not know how many there were or where they came from. Yet William could feel their presence, following behind.


    And somehow, he knew they were getting closer.


    His hair was standing on end. Night came on, and the crescent moon shone down on them from the treetops. And in a beam of light, the shadow of a girl his age. Armed to the teeth, Satyrs came around them from the underbrush in every direction. Doltier was amongst them. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well now," said the demoness, "what absolute perfect convenience. You were on a direct path to Baltoth''s Retribution, and I''ve been ordered to take you there. Truly a mutually beneficial arrangement if ever there was one."


    "Who are you?" asked Felix, putting an unsteady hand on his sword.


    "I need not answer to you." said the demoness. "Indeed, I have precious little interest in you."


    "What do you want?" asked William. "I assume it isn''t us dead."


    "Ask not what I want," said the demoness, "but what Melchious wants." A chill went down William''s spine as his worst fears were confirmed.

 Chapter 11 - Ten: The Taming of Beasts

    Melchious.


    A name he had heard horror stories about all his life. A name people dared not utter in some places for fear it might attract his attention. A creature his father had long ago cheated beneath the misty trees of Brisgald. And now he had a personal interest in William. The Lord of Torment had a personal interest in him.


    There were some fates worse than death. This was one of them.


    "Felix," said William, "run. Get word to my father."


    "But-" began Felix.


    "Go!" William shouted.


    "Oh, I''m afraid that everyone not on the guest list is to be quite dead." said the demoness. "Kill the-"


    William threw his pack at one of the satyrs, ignoring the weight of it. It hit the creature right in the chest and sent it sprawling onto the ground. Drawing his sword, he rushed forward and laid about him with his sword. He felt a jerk in his hand as he broke a satyr''s spear and cut the creature across the leg. It fell back, screaming, and he moved to finish it. Then, he was struck from behind and fell forward onto the ground.


    Rolling over, he swung his sword wildly as he stood up, the satyrs around him. He warded them off for a moment before his hand was forced down. The blade was wrestled from his grasp. One of the creatures raised a knife to finish him.


    Yet Doltier grabbed the creature by the hand and said something on their tongue. He reminded them that Melchious wanted William alive, which was even worse.


    "My, you aren''t one to go gently, are you?" asked the demoness. "No matter, now for the other?" She looked around. "Where did he go? He was here a moment ago, yet now I can''t sense him." S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Felix had slipped away. He was nowhere to be found. William felt a sense of relief as he was hauled to his feet, and his hands were bound. The satyrs were tending to their warriors'' wounds with some magic. Others were looking for the pack and marveling at the jewels they found within. Finally, Doltier said something, and they put the gold and gems back in before he took up the pack.


    "Doltier is the ring-giver of this band," said the demoness. "He awards the spoils of their victory as he deems fit, and they follow him."


    Then Doltier punched William in the gut. William doubled over, gasping for air, his whole body shaking with the effect. He fell to his knees but forced himself back up. He did his best to look defiant, and it seemed to be noticed.


    "I suppose you think you''ve been courageous, don''t you?" mused the demoness.


    William considered how best to reply. Finally, he decided on a simple fact. "I have been."


    "Oh, do shut up." said the demoness, "Doltier, don''t bother pursuing the other. There is no help for miles. The gold is yours, of course, but that harp... That harp is mine."


    Doltier said something.


    "Oh?" asked the demoness. "I report to Melchious. That harp is of a special kind, and I will have it. You wouldn''t be able to make any use of it anyway."


    Doltier drew the harp out and passed it to the demoness, who took it into the shadows. She seemed to covet it, though it was challenging to say how William could tell. Something about the way the shadows shifted.


    Then she kneeled where William''s sword lay covered in blood. The shadows surrounded the blade and spun it around in a flourish.


    "Hmm," she said, "I think I''ll take this as a trophy as well."


    Doltier did not seem at all upset by this. Instead, he said something contemptuously and walked away, motioning to the other satyrs. Soon, the whole group began to move again.


    William was herded through the woods by the satyrs and was shoved and beaten at several points. The satyrs hated him bitterly. If a hungry chimera had devoured several of William''s friends, he would likely feel the same.


    As they walked, the demoness started talking. "At any rate, you must understand how truly I appreciate your cooperation. Every so often, you get these heroic types. They spend every waking moment screaming in pointless defiance. As if that makes any difference.


    "Resigned silence is always preferable for me. It means I don''t have to listen to them bluster, and my minions maintain some measure of dignity.


    "You know Lord Melchious came into this realm only recently? My Lord has, for years and years, been limited to one side of the river in terms of worldly affairs. Yet there have always been places in Seathorius where the dark is powerful. I''ve been turning events in his favor for years, and I''ve been ever so successful."


    "Do you ever stop talking?" asked William.


    "I''m the captor; I''ll do as I please." said the demoness. "At any rate, where was I? Oh yes, well, you may have heard why Melchious wants you already. The usual variety of demonic retribution, no doubt, is to be agonizingly slow. Though the demon usually cheats on the mortal. Then, they get what they bargained for anyway.


    "Dear Vanion seems to have tried to make things turn out the other way around. It almost worked, too, but fate has a way of resolving these unfortunate little disputes. But, of course, we have no power over your soul. That pointless little defiance of yours at the satyr prison saw to that. But that doesn''t mean Melchious can''t make your first death last weeks.


    "You should be glad. It could have been an eternity."


    "So that''s why the satyrs attacked my ship," said William. "Melchious directed them to target me to get to my father."


    "Yes, you seem to have a moderate amount of intelligence, don''t you?" asked the demoness. "Of course, Doltier and his satyrs thought we merely intended to hold you for ransom. We let them believe what was convenient for us. The best-case scenario was for you to accept my offer, be freed, then recaptured and ransomed later."


    Doltier muttered something under his breath.


    "Oh, do stop complaining," said the demoness, "you got the gold, didn''t you?" She turned her focus back on William. "Meanwhile, you got the aid of a god. We lost several minions, and we''ve had to spend the last few days looking for you. It was exceptionally inconsiderate of you, praying for help like that."


    "Go to hell," said William.


    "I''d love nothing more than to go home, but for the moment, duty compels me to remain here," said the demoness. "I will never get used to the complete lack of the agonized screams of the damned.


    Especially the lack of futile pleas for mercy. But we must all sacrifice for the greater evil."


    "Well, in that case, you can go to heaven!" snapped William.


    "No need to get hostile." said the demoness. "I''m merely conducting you to untold torments and a horrible, grisly end. Think of the inconvenience you caused me? So, in any case, it''s your fault if you think about it."


    "How?" asked William.


    The demoness considered it. "Well, we didn''t get what we wanted. Now, granted by your standards, that makes you a hero. Yet we demons have an enlightened policy of self-interest as morality."


    "Meaning that it is not my fault in any way, and you are a sore loser," noted William.


    "I would prefer to think of myself as a sore winner." said the demoness. "And that is exactly the kind of attitude that I was complimenting you for not having. But, unfortunately, it isn''t improving my situation. Thus making it more difficult for me to gloat."


    "My heart bleeds for you," said William. "Perhaps there shall be a tragedy written about the degradation you suffered. I expect it will also mention how you led an innocent prisoner to torment and death."


    "Well, that does sound appealing." the demoness mused. "But you aren''t innocent, so that might be a poetic exaggeration."


    "Shut up," said William.


    "I don''t see why I should-" began the demoness.


    Then, there was the roar of a lion, a goat, and a dragon. The sound of it rattled William''s teeth. Out of the trees came the chimera, mauling a satyr to death with its paws. The lion tore out the throat of another while the goat gored a third with its horns. A wave of fire was unleashed as the satyrs scattered. The satyr holding William''s rope threw down its sword and fled.


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    "Well, that was unexpected." said the demoness. "I wonder why it''s killing my minions."


    Seeing his chance, William kneeled by the fallen sword and began to saw on the ropes. Soon, they came loose. However, no sooner had they dropped from his hands than a blade went to his throat. It was his sword.


    "I would stay still until we''ve killed the creature if I were you." said the demoness.


    Doltier hurled a spear that surged through the air and lodged in the chimera''s back. It screamed and then unleashed a torrent of flame at the demoness. She cried out, and the sword and William''s pack fell from her grasp. He snatched the blade and the bag and ran into the wilderness. As he did, the chimera''s roars became louder and louder behind him. Then they fell silent. As he fled through the trees, he realized the satyrs would overtake him. Already, he could hear the trumping of feet. He had to get out of sight. So, hauling himself up into a tree, he scaled up, sheathed his sword, and tried to be as unobtrusive as possible.


    Then, out of the underbrush came the chimera. It was limping and trailing blood. Arrows and spears were lodged in its flesh, mewling piteously from all three heads. It looked up at William, and before he knew what he was doing, he was scaling down the tree to meet it.


    The chimera saw down, moaning in pain. William touched its head, and it growled. He drew back his hand. The poor thing was dying, and he could not leave it like this. Drawing out his harp, he played a few notes, calming the creature. Then, he set down the instrument.


    "Listen," he said, "I can heal you. But I need to remove the weapons inside of you. You can''t attack me, or we''ll both die."


    The chimera wheezed, but it seemed to nod. William took hold of an arrow and tried remembering what he knew about healing. He wasn''t supposed to yank the handout. The head might come loose and still be inside the wound. William did not know if he could heal wounds in a way that pulled out the arrow.


    He knew a knife from his pack and sliced an incision in the flesh. The chimera moaned and roared. William kept calm, reaching down into the wound, following the arrow shaft to find the head.


    Grasping it, he pulled out both arrow and head. The chimera roared and pulled away from him, hissing, growling, and bleating at once.


    "I need to heal the wound," said William. "Please, stay still."


    Slowly, the chimera lay down, and William set one bloodstained hand on the wound. The power he had felt before came to him again, and he channeled his will. The wound healed, and the chimera whimpered.


    Next, William took hold of the spear in the chimera''s shoulder. Gripping it with two hands, he hauled it out of the wound. The chimera roared again, and he was afraid he''d be roasted. Yet he was able to heal it, and with that done, threw the spear aside and began to work on the other injuries.


    The work took hours. By the time William finished, the morning was dawning, and he was exhausted. His hands and lower arms were stained with blood, and he felt faint. However, the chimera was still, and he fell to rest against its healed body, the last arrows pulled out.


    William must have fallen asleep because twilight had fallen when he opened his eyes. He was lying on the ground, and when he looked up, he saw the chimera staring at him. Their eyes met, and William saw a feral divinity that defied description. For a long time, they remained still, just staring at each other into eternity.


    Between its forelegs was the harp.


    William picked himself up and sheathed his sword. He put away his knife and noted that the rations were still there or what had been left anyway. Then, picking up a spear he had taken out of the chimera, he looked up at the creature.


    "Listen," said William, "did you kill all the satyrs?"


    The chimera said nothing, not comprehending. Then it shoved the harp at him. William sighed, picked up the harp, and put it into his pack. The chimera growled.


    "I can''t play now," said William. "That demoness is still out there. I can feel it. She might have other servants, and we''ve lost a lot of time. So we have to keep moving."


    The chimera moved forward and nuzzled him with its lion head. At the same time, its goat head began to munch on the grass at his feet. The dragon''s head was raised above the other, scanning its surroundings. William smiled and scratched the creature behind the ears.


    "Come on," said William. "Let''s see if we can find Felix."


    William had entirely lost his bearings during his flight the previous night. He did what they had done when they had been cast overboard. He turned and began to walk in a random direction. The chimera padded after him.


    Soon enough, they came across a shrine. It was made of black stone and had three statues on it. The first statue was a beautiful woman with exaggerated features. It was taller than the others and very fair. On her head were goat horns, and in her hand was a great mace raised high above her. On her right was a figure robed so that nothing of its features could be discerned. Last of all, on her left was a statue of Melchious.


    At the knees of the statues was an altar of black stone. The chimera did not seem to like this place, and William didn''t like it.


    "It must be a shrine to demons," said William. "I don''t know these creatures beyond Melchious. I don''t think I want to know them either. Come on, let''s move on."


    At that moment, out of the trees came two dwarves. Their beards were wild and unbraided, clad in skins. They held in their arms a sizeable white cloth on the altar.


    "So why are we making these sacrifices anyway?" asked one.


    "Didn''t you listen to the white satyr?" asked the other.


    "I don''t know those animal''s tongues." said the first. "I''ve never been able to make sense of it."


    "There is some terrible new enemy, I gather." said the second. "They set fire to that satyr''s village with help from the Dreaming Goddess. Then, when they went after them for vengeance, they called a chimera to attack them. So they set the chimera to flight but took serious losses."


    "Makes me glad." muttered the first. "Fewer of those animals, the better."


    "The satyrs are our allies." shot back the second. "If the Dreaming Goddess has some new servant, it''s our problem. Especially since whatever it is, it''s on our side of the river now."


    "Maybe it''ll move on." said the first.


    "We can only hope," said the second. "Here comes High Priest Devrox; let''s stand to attention now and be ready for the sacrifice."


    Sacrifices? It seemed likely now that Melchious'' servants would kill some poor souls on their altar. William had to do something about this. He looked to the chimera, whose lion head was licking its chops hungrily.


    Out of the trees came a dwarf with a neater beard, clad all in white. William took him to be Devrox. In his hands was a sacrificial knife, and behind him was a group of armed guards. Last of all was a servant holding a lamb in his arms. William sighed in relief.


    "Come on," said William to the chimera, "we ought to get out of here."


    The chimera was looking at the lamb and licking his chops.


    "Not now," said William. "I''ll play my harp for you tonight. So don''t start a fight just yet."


    Reluctantly, the chimera followed William away from the shrine. William reflected that, at the very least, not all of the rites of Melchious'' servants were so vicious. It was a consolation to know that his servants were not all evil. Perhaps to them, the world looked very different indeed. Melchious may have appeared good.


    He put such thoughts from his mind. They were close to heresy in any case.

 Chapter 12 - Eleven: Baltoths Retribution

    It dawned on William over the next few days that he had yet to learn where he was headed. The land shifted all the time. Even when he backtracked, he always seemed to end up somewhere different. He was walking on a path that was out of his control, and could not get off it. Instead, he could only follow or stay where he was. The air was musty and stale in this place, and they found it had to be purified by one of Rusara''s spells.


    At night, insects and worse things bothered them, and by day, they walked in darkness.


    He didn''t like the feeling. It was like he had no control over his destiny. As though he were a puppet to be manipulated by the hands of figures beyond his comprehension. At night, he played music for the chimera, and he would always wake to find it watching over him in the morning. The land around them became darker. The clouds clustered overhead as the wood became more dreary and horrible. The weather became ever grayer and colder.


    Then, one day, it started raining. It poured down on them in torrents, and they sheltered beneath the trees as best they could. Finally, the chimera got close to curl up against him, shielding him from the wind. William looked up.


    "Thank you," He was not sure how to continue. "You know, I''m not sure what to call you. I mean, I can''t just call you Chimera."


    "Bah," said the chimera''s goat head.


    "I think I should give you a name," said William. "Unless you already have one."


    The dragon''s head turned to him and gave him a strange look. He had no idea what it meant, and William remained silent. Can I give you a name? Something to call you until I can learn your real one."


    The chimera did not answer. William supposed expecting one was somewhat foolish. It was, after all, an animal at heart. He sighed. "I suppose I''ll call you... uh... I have no idea what to call you. None whatsoever." He looked around. "What do you think of Dark Heart?"


    There was that look again.


    "Look, I can''t think of anything, okay," said William. "And it''s not as if it matters. It''s only until... oh, never mind. Octavian? That''s a Sornian name, so it is pretty exotic."


    The look continued.


    William sighed. "What about Massacre?"


    The chimera seemed to consider that. Its dragon head nodded.


    "Right then, Massacre," said William. "The rain is slacking off a bit, so we should keep moving to... wherever it is, we''re going. I hope we get there soon because I''m almost out of supplies."


    Massacre and William began to make their way onward. The ground became rougher, and strange voices appeared as they made their way forward. During the day, little light penetrated through the treetops. During the night, it was pitch black. The ground became stony and rough. William often tripped as he went onward and became very sick of it all. The days blurred together, and he longed for a warm bed and rest.


    He doubted now that he had any hope of finding Felix. Seathorius itself was conspiring to see them separated. Yet to what end? What purpose was served by all this?


    Then, they came out of the darkness. In front of William and Massacre, they found pleasant green lands. Around it were rolling hills and beautiful trees with white bark and golden leaves. Flowers were blooming at their base, and birds were singing. The contrast was so sudden that William could hardly believe his eyes.


    Then he saw the castle. It was a truly majestic sight, standing on a proud hilltop. Seven pure white towers rose out of its new walls. They loomed overhead, and an eighth grew out of the keep itself, the tallest spires. A golden spike emerged from the top of its domed roof. It was magnificent. Here before him seemed a beautiful and strong fortress. One might expect a noble king to dwell here.


    That was why William felt ill at ease with it. Upon further examination, William realized that the walls were crawling with vines. They had grown up all over the fortress. No flag flew from its towers, and William doubted any had flown in many years. Moreover, despite the beauty of his surroundings, they seemed odd, almost lifeless.


    The chirping of birds was everywhere, but he could see no birds. The flowers seemed strange like they were parts of a picture. A picture painted on long after the original artist has declared his work complete. Its beauty seemed more an atrocity than the most festering bog that nature had created. The more William looked at this place, the more it seemed almost more terrible than where he had been.


    "Massacre," said William. "I am not going any further on this path. Instead, we''ll head back into the woods and see if we can find Felix."


    Massacre seemed to agree, and they plunged back into the far preferable darkness. Yet they had not gotten far before the two emerged again into the painted-on wonderland. Only this time, it was far closer to the castle than before. So, turning, they fled into the darkness again, with the same result.


    Finally, defeated, they made their way toward the castle. Some will seemed to fuel their speed, and they moved. William wanted more than anything to be going in another direction. Massacre did not try to eat any grass, even though he had been continuously munching until now. Finally, at the base of the hill with the gates looming over them, William leaned on his spear and looked up.


    "I think I know where we are," he said. "This is Baltoth''s Retribution¡ªthis province''s old Dust Elf capital. Rusara''s people used to live here. Have I ever told you about Rusara? She''d like you.


    "Assuming we ever meet her," He became very bitter. "Listen to me, Massacre. I think that Seathorius is driving me into a confrontation with Melchious. We''re both going to die at this rate." He was afraid, but he couldn''t drag others down with him.


    Massacre''s goat head bleated fearfully.


    "You don''t have to come with me," said William. "You shouldn''t come with me. This isn''t your problem, and there is no sense in you dying here with me." He paused. "Go back now." Massacre stood where he was, not moving.


    "Go back!" roared William. "Now! Before you get killed!"


    Massacre sat up and loped toward the trees before halting and glancing back. William remained where he was, wanting to shout for Massacre to return. Then the chimera turned and went back into the woods and was gone. William realized he was shaking.


    He forced himself still and turned to begin making his way toward the gate. As he did so, the lands surrounding him began to twist and change into their proper form. The grass was not there at all, only blighted wastes. The flowers were thorny bushes with inch-long blades on them. Yet Baltoth''s Retribution remained the same shining castle, gleaming in the sunlight.


    He came to the gates, long since rotted away so that only some rusted hinges were left. As he approached, a shadow was cast over him, and he looked up. Upon the top of the wall was the demoness.


    Yet she was no mere shadow. Instead, she stood in physical form, in the form of a girl, yet she was not human. Her feet were black talons like those of a hawk. She had a long black tail like a silken noose with a blade shaped like a crescent moon. Her hands were massive claws, and her skin was pure black. Her eyes were bright blue and shone with an unholy light.


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    "Well, what a chance meeting," she said. "I must thank you for sending that beast away. It will make my task much easier."


    Then she dove toward William. He raised his spear, but her tail lashed out, and it was cut in twain. The demoness smashed him down and reached for his throat. William strove to hold her claws at bay, struggling with the demoness. Her strength was monstrous; he''d never felt anything like it! Unable to drive her back, he dragged her to one side, throwing her off. As she landed, he was on her and forced her down with a knee on her chest. Drawing out his sword, he set it to her throat.


    "You have lost," said William.


    He should kill her now. This was an unholy abomination, not a thing that could be redeemed. Yet he remembered the sight of the satyr lying dead by his hand. Then her tail wrapped around his neck from behind, and he was hauled back. His sword fell from his grip, and she was on him. He snatched the spearhead, but she grasped his wrist, forced him down, and leaned in close. He could feel the heat of her body against his, and then her lips met his. She held it there momentarily, and he found his strength waning. He felt a will forcing itself against him, older and stronger, and his attempts to break free of it were in vain. His head went fuzzy; his vision was blurry. William suddenly had no idea who he was or what he was doing. He could not remember what had brought him to this point.


    The thing pounded him down, wiping her lips, and he stood. "Who am I?" he asked. "Who are you?"


    The demoness smiled and whipped her tail around her as she made a bow. "Oh, just someone you should trust and love." Her tail drew up his sword with a flourish and put it into her hand. His sword, it was his.


    "That is my sword," he said.


    "I''ll return it to you in a moment," she replied.


    A sense of trust that was not altogether his own came to him. But, of course, she would give it back to him. She was to be trusted. She was the most magnificent, beautiful, and influential of all creatures. Still, those thoughts did not seem altogether his own.


    "You really are powerful, aren''t you?" she asked. "Duke Vanion wasn''t much stronger when Melchious told me to kill him. And he was an adult."


    "I was..." his mind was still fuzzy, "my bloodline gives me that strength. It is from Mother''s side of the family." Memories would not come to him; he felt adrift and without an anchor.


    "Fascinating," she said. "Do tell me more?"


    "I don''t know all that much," said William. "She never tells me anything."


    "Oh, how sad, my deepest sympathies." She motioned with her sword. "Through the gates, we have plans to make."


    William obeyed, and the demoness, yes, she was a demoness, led him through the gate. He found an overgrown courtyard within. Several saplings were growing within it, and weeds were everywhere. They went into the keep, whose door had long ago rotted away to nothing, and began to scale up a flight of stairs. Violet torches lighted the walls on either side of them, which cast the world in an ominous light.


    A vague recollection came then to William. It came fear. "Are we... going to see Melchious."


    "No, I lied about all that." said the demoness. "Mostly for the satyr''s benefit. I don''t know if he''s aware of your presence here. Nor do I care."


    "Then why..." Memories began to come back. "It was you all along?"


    "Precisely," she said, "I''ve been using this castle to project my will over great distances. There is great power here, and I have learned to harness it in the years since I took up residence. You might have noticed a shadow aiding the satyrs in pursuing you?"


    "Why... why to say you were in league with Melchious," asked William.


    "Oh, I am," she said, "I''m merely operating without his orders now."


    They went down a hall and saw nothing and no one. As William followed her, he had regained much of his former self. He could not act against her, somehow. The idea was inconceivable. "Where are the ghosts? I was told this place was haunted."


    "Oh, those," said the demoness, "I killed those ages ago."


    Then they entered another room and within was a three-dimensional map of Seathorius. Yet it was no map of plaster. Instead, it was living and breathing, with trees that swayed and moved before his eyes. Tiny villages could be seen scattered throughout it. There were specks among them, people, William thought.


    "This is where the shifting in the landscapes comes from," said the demoness. "It takes some skill to control, but I managed it." She raised a hand and channeled power. The landscape began to flow around into another shape. "Rather convenient. My service to Lord Melchious is mostly using this. I ensure his operations go unnoticed, but I have far greater aspirations."


    "Aspirations to what?" asked William.


    "Power, what else?" asked the demoness. "Come, we should continue our tour."


    William wanted to resist, but he could not. They went through a chamber and into a great hall. Many eldritch statues were standing throughout it. Black pillars carved with runes were around them in a circle. At the far end of the room was a set of double-stone doors, and they were shut. On it were engravings of many eldritch and horrible things. It was painful to keep looking at it.


    The demoness approached it and ran one hand over it. "Well, here we are. The reason I need you."


    "I don''t understand," admitted William.


    "No doubt you say that a lot," said the demoness. "And I don''t intend to enlighten you more than is necessary. Beyond this door, I believe, lies the Mirror of Laevian. Its power must belong to me." "And not Melchious?" guessed William.


    "Of course not," said the demoness. "I want it for myself. You don''t think that serving someone and having their best interests at heart are the same thing, do you? That would be naive, even for a human."


    "And how will I help you get it?" asked William.


    "The door is warded against demons and all other races," said the demoness. "I have a hunch that it is not against what you are." S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Are you saying I''m not human?" asked William, annoyed.


    "Well, you have the blood of Amazons in you, which is a slight variant of humans." said the demoness. "It might be enough to slip past the defenses. I mean, I''ve sent a lot of other technicalities forward, and most of them died, but that''s not the point. Now, try to open the door." She drew his sword. "Or die."


    William reached forward and set one hand to it. Then, pushing against it, he felt as if something was looking through the very fiber of his being, judging him. Yet as it gazed at him, it seemed uncertain of what he was. William thought it was obvious enough, but something about him perplexed it.


    Then it opened, and the doors swung open before him, showing a dark hallway lit by green flame. The demoness jumped for joy. "Yes, yes, yes! I knew it would work! Technicalities are such a beautiful thing! And to think this is my sixtieth try! I was getting so tired of burying the bodies! Now you go forward first; if there are any traps in there, they''ll spear you, and I''ll have a warning ahead of time."


    "...Fine," said William, once again unable to disobey.


    It was strange, for it was as though she had some hold over him; it defied the ordinary. She demanded obedience and accepted nothing else. William felt he was under mind control but could not work up the will to break it. He wondered if he even wanted to. But, of course, he did. Yet every time his mind began to shake off the web surrounding his mind, is eyes were drawn to her. The very sight of her strengthened the bindings.


    It was frustrating, but he couldn''t work up the will to get angry about it.


    He walked forward, looking around him as he did so. The demoness followed behind, tail flickering this way and that. As they made their way on, the darkness gave way to multicolored lights, which hurt the eyes to look too long at. The walls became pure crystal, and vines grew around them. Soon, the vines were so thick around them that the walls were covered. An earthy smell surrounded them, and leaves quickly covered the ground. Then it became hot, and William wiped the sweat from his brow. Then the heat turned to cold, and he was shivering. The sounds of chirping birds could be heard, then the fall of hammers.


    Reality seemed to shift without beginning or end.


    "What is this place?" he asked.


    "Hmm, it''s connected to the realm of turmoil." surmised the demoness. "The realm of limitless potential which has no form that is not given to it by the mind. It exists between the dimensions of the mortal realm, hell, and heaven. Rather an ironic choice of location."


    "How so?" asked William.


    "Well, the Mirror of Laevian shows things as they are," said the demoness. "But the turmoil is a subjective reality. Everyone who looks into it sees something different, formed by their mind."


    "What do you see?" asked William.


    "Eh," said the demoness, "I''m not paying attention. My interest is purely in power. In what is. This place has nothing to offer me in that regard."


    "What use could the Mirror of Laevian be to you?" asked William. "You don''t seem like the person interested in knowing themselves."


    "You seem to have missed the point," said the demoness. "If I look into the Mirror of Laevian and survive, I know my personality flaws. But, of course, I am nearly flawless; few indeed can compare to my perfect majesty.


    "However, by seeing my few flaws, I can correct them and become more powerful."


    "I expect you will be disappointed," said William. "How is it that no one has found a loophole around that door in the first place?"


    "Oh well, I expect the flesh-eating ghosts kept most people away," said the demoness. "And just getting here is difficult enough. It took me years of constant searching to track the place down. But you managed it so quickly because I was already on the inside, drawing you to me."


    "So you killed the flesh-eating ghosts," guessed William. "How? Rusara taught me that restless spirits can... uh..." He tried to remember. "They can only be sent on to the next life once whatever is keeping them in the world is resolved."


    "Yes, I suppose you would have looked for some way to ease their suffering. To help them find peace," mused the demoness. "Fortunately, I had a much more direct approach. I beat them senselessly and tortured them repeatedly. Soon, their fear of me became greater than their attachment to this world.


    "After that, they faded."


    "I don''t think it is supposed to work like that," muttered William. "So why hasn''t anyone else come here since?"


    "Well, a few people do," admitted the demoness, "but I killed most of them, always leaving one alive to flee back. Thus, the myth of ghosts persists. It''s just that these days, the ghosts are supposed to be working for me."


    "And you''ve just been sitting around this castle that whole time," said William. "That sounds boring."


    "Well, I can project myself into other realms using the shadows," said the demoness. "Particularly moonlight. The Moon Spirit is quite helpful in that regard. But yes, it has gotten dull. But once I find the Mirror of Laevian, I will no longer have any need to remain here."


    William and the Demoness entered an elegant room of white stone. It was illuminated from everywhere and nowhere with gleaming light. A mirror stood two feet high at the far end of the room. It was covered with a red tarp, and William made his way forward.


    "Do you think this is it?" he wondered.


    "Let''s find out," said the demoness before pulling off the tarp.


    William saw himself.

 Chapter 13 - Twelve: The Collapse

    At that moment, William saw everything about himself. Every slight aspect of himself irritated others. Every little selfish choice hurts others. He took Felix for granted, always expecting him to obey while pretending he was his friend. He''d wasted Raynald''s valuable time with his laziness. One of the greatest warriors of Harlenor comes to train him. And William couldn''t even be bothered to attend his lessons. He saw his ineptitude at various tasks when he was assigned them.


    William saw every tiny slight, every half-truth, and arrogant word. Every one of them came crashing down on him. How many people had died because of him since his failure on the ship? How many sentient creatures would still be alive if he had done what he ought to have done and fought?


    He saw how he had robbed the chimera on Felix''s urging, hardly thinking of it. It had saved them from the satyrs, and this was how he had repaid it?


    He had felt good about Felix setting fire to the satyr village. Yet people had died in that fire, even children. He found tears coursing down his cheeks as he struggled to turn away. Yet he could not. All he could do was stand there, watching.


    A shadow behind him was growing, and he realized he was not alone looking into this mirror. Another was screaming in agony and horror, another who had a part in him even he had not learned.


    Trying to reach out, he saw this being for what it was.


    Melchious. Yet why did Melchious have a part in him?


    And then William saw that it was not that Melchious had a part in him but rather that he had been a part of Melchious. Everything fell into place. When Melchious disguised Father, he had put a piece of himself into him. That piece had waited within him and entered into Mother. It had become him.


    He was a creation of evil. And through him, that evil was suffering horribly. He could feel the unbridled agony coursing through Melchious. The effect of truth on him was blinding as all his sins returned to haunt him. And it hurt. It hurt more than anything else William had ever experienced. Only the truth that it was not entirely meant for him prevented it from tearing him apart.


    He saw the screams of untold innocents ¡ª the tormented souls of sinners. Their anger and hatred were now consuming the being to which William was connected.


    And then it was over. Melchious was silent.


    William felt alone, more alone than he ever had before. He stepped back, gasping for air and hardly feeling his body. What he had seen... what he had known...


    He looked up to the demoness. "This was your plan all along?"


    "Precisely," said the demoness, "rather well played, if I may say so. I knew I could never use the mirror for myself; it was far too hostile to my kind. Yet then I thought. ''What if I could use it to remove my superior?'' So I did."


    "You knew Melchious would never fall into any trap you set," said William. "So you used me to get to him."


    "Yes," said the demoness. "Melchious had some plan for you, I expect. No doubt, it is a long-term goal accomplished by subtle manipulation. Your Father never outsmarted him, but I? His student? I did.


    "There were one or two other options, but you were a fine opportunity."


    Then his sword was in her hand, and she tossed it to him. William caught the sword, hardly believing his eyes. "Why are you giving me a weapon?"


    "Well, obviously so that you can kill yourself," said the demoness. "Inconvenient truths are tearing apart Melchious'' soul. I expect he had retreated into the depths of the abyss to try and save himself. He may or may not.


    "But if he survives, he can use you as an anchor to return to the mortal realm whenever he wants. So it''d be much simpler for all involved if you killed yourself."


    "You''re lying," said William. "You just want me out of the way-"


    "-so that Melchious cannot return." finished the demoness for him. "I''ll have the run of this whole place so long as he is gone. Here, I will be worshipped as a god if only I can step out of his shadow long enough to establish my worship."


    She was right. He could feel it, and the blade in his hand seemed to call to him. He had been a burden on everyone all his life and would probably become even more burdened later. Everyone had always had such expectations, and he had never been able to meet them. And by doing this, he would deny the return of a much more powerful demon lord.


    Putting the sword''s point to his chest, he tried to work up his will. He could feel the demoness'' will urging him on, and he knew he should do it. Yet something was holding him back.


    "Stop!" said Kiyora, appearing to one side. "Are you crazy?!"


    William looked up and saw the Dreaming Goddess put a hand on his wrist. Instantly, he realized how the demoness had affected him. She''d gotten into his head. She''d manipulated his thoughts, so he thought her voice was his conscience.


    He lowered the sword.


    "Kiyora," he said, "when did you get here?"


    "I went to sleep tonight expecting to have to guide some lost kid back home!" said Kiyora. "Instead, I find you almost killing yourself! What are you thinking? Suicide never solves anything! It only leaves-"


    And then the demoness surged forward, and roundhouse kicked William in the chest. He was sent tumbling head over heels to crash against the wall. Pain erupted throughout his entire body. He had felt something crack within him, but he couldn''t handle the pain.


    Then he did feel it. It hurt a lot.


    "Who the heck are you?" said Kiyora.


    "Oh, just the person who will rule Seathorius," said the demoness. "I''ve disposed of my master, and now I''m going to dispose of you."


    William began to heal his injuries. A blessed sensation soothed the agony as Kiyora looked at the demoness. The creature paced to stand directly in front of the mirror.


    "Jokes on you," said Kiyora. "I can''t be hurt in my own dreams."


    "Maybe not," said the demoness, "but have you looked in the mirror lately."


    She motioned to the Mirror of Laevian. Kiyora followed the motion. William tried to cry out, but it was too late. Kiyora covered her eyes and screamed as she fell backward. She landed with a crash on the ground, unconscious. Her light faded, and she now looked... normal, for lack of a better word. William had finished healing himself. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well," said the demoness, "that was remarkably easy." She threw the tarp back over the mirror. "Note to self: The Mirror of Laevian can force gods into mortal form." Then she set one clawed foot on Kiyora''s neck.


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    William got to his feet, snatched up his sword, and charged. But, even as he came on, the demoness backflipped over and slashed him across the back with her tail. He felt the sting on his flesh and reeled forward.


    "I hope you realize I was playing around with you the last time." said the demoness. "Which I have no incentive to do now. I''ll tell you what. Leave now, and I''ll let you have a head-"


    William swung his sword at her again. Yet she surged away like a shadow. He narrowed dodged her tail, and several more swipes backed him up against the wall. Then, reaching out with one hand, he caught it between his fingers and dragged her towards him by it, stabbing at her. The demoness brought up one knee and slammed him in the gut. Then, grabbing him by the cloak, she threw him across the room. He hit the mirror, and it toppled over as he landed beyond it. He felt his arm crack and agonizing pain going through it.


    Healing it as quickly as he could, he saw her approaching him at a walk.


    "You know, I must admit." she said, "I rather enjoyed chasing you through the forests." She raised one claw and smiled. "I''m going to have to enjoy cutting you to pieces all the more."


    He hurled his sword at her, and it spun through the air to miss entirely and land against the far wall. The demoness stepped carefully around the mirror as William arose. Fortunately, she knew she could kill him at any time. Shrinking back, he took hold of the side of the tarp.


    "You don''t think you''ll succeed in your designs, do you?" he asked.


    "On the contrary, I already have," she said. "All that remains is-"


    William hauled off the tarp. The demoness averted her eyes. So William threw the tarp over her. There was a squeal of outrage, and then he grabbed her by the shoulders. With all his strength, he tossed her onto the upset mirror. Her tail lashed out and slashed him across the shoulder. He couldn''t help but scream as he fell back against the wall.


    For a moment, the demoness was tearing her claws through the tarp. Then, finally, she hauled the tattered remnants from her body and looked up. "You miserable, ungrateful- Oh."


    Her gaze was drawn to the Mirror of Laevian. It glinted beneath her as she began to shake. Rising, she screamed and stepped backward. Then, clutching her eyes, she turned and fled weeping into the hall. William watched her go, healing his wounds as best he could. Then he looked at the mirror, which remained undamaged.


    Picking it up, he set it back up in its proper place. Then he threw the tarp over it. Even so, the tarp was in tatters, and he had to be careful not to see the mirror.


    William kneeled by Kiyora. She was lying unconscious on the ground, but she was breathing steadily. She looked pretty beautiful.


    He looked back to the mirror. He''d only be able to take one of them out of here, and somehow, he doubted he''d be able to return anytime soon. Kiyora was a goddess! Sure, she could take care of herself.


    Then, there was a rumbling noise. The floor began to shake as cracks appeared in the ceiling. He barely kept his feet. Fragments of stonework fell downwards to clatter against the floor. This whole place was coming down, though William had no idea why he was certain or how it had happened.


    William made his choice as he picked up his pack and slung it over one shoulder.


    Retrieving his sword, he sheathed it before reaching underneath Kiyora. William picked her up in a bridal fashion and made for the exit. Even as William did, large stones began to fall from the ceiling to rattle around him. He broke into a run, moving as fast as he could. Above him, the cracks spread to the walls. Ahead of him, the maddening visions from before returned in full force.


    Sprinting with all his might, he saw colors flash before his eyes. It seemed as though the halls themselves had disappeared. Instead, he was running through a sea of stars that flowed past him in a blur. He wasn''t sure if moving his legs made any difference, but he dared not stop now. On and on he went until he saw a doorway of light before him. He raced through and heard a grinding noise. Looking back, he saw the masonry collapsing down onto the entrance. Soon, it was barred from sight. The walls of the castle themselves were falling in around him before his eyes.


    Why was this happening? Why was the castle collapsing?


    He had no time to find out. He raced into the hall and tried to remember which way to go. Then he sensed a presence and looked to one side to see the demoness rushing at him. Her claws were far longer. Her body, which appeared almost human before, was far closer to that of a wild beast. Long fangs had appeared on her mouth, and her eyes were wild. William ran the other way. He could hear her feral snarls growing louder, and he dodged around a corner. Something grabbed hold of his cape, and he felt a chill. He turned too late and was pulled from his feet. He tried to shelter Kiyora from the fall as he hit the ground hard. Turning around, he scrambled back as the beast approached him.


    Trying to draw his sword, he knew it would be too late.


    As the beast lunged, the ceiling above it fell inward, and many great stones fell. There was a terrible roaring of stone on stone, and dust was kicked up. When the dust settled, William saw one claw outside the rock. Then it moved, clawing at the ground and beginning to push aside the stones.


    William grabbed Kiyora and ran. He had no idea where to go or how to get there. He only knew he had to get as far away from the demoness as possible. A roar echoed throughout the halls as a wall gave way. A whole side of the castle was collapsing down into the courtyard below.


    He could scale down here! He could save himself and escape!


    Then he looked to Kiyora. He could not bring her with him this way. Wasn''t it better to save himself than to save no one? No, there had to be a better way.


    He ran off, feeling like he would regret it.


    Coming into a room, he found a staircase. But it was leading up, and he had no time. He raced up it and entered the bridge leading to the lone tower. It looked over the entire castle, rising into a stormy sky. It was pouring rain, and lightning was striking across the sky. All around him, he could see the whole castle collapsing into dust. Bits and pieces of masonry fell around them. He raced towards the tower with nothing else to do, praying it might be spared the destruction.


    Then he saw a shadow flying across the sky with two glowing blue eyes. It swooped down towards them and landed in front of them, a smile on its face. The demoness looked less feral now and more composed. In an odd mirror, the destruction around them slowed.


    "Leaving so soon, are we?" she asked. "I''m offended to leave a lady all alone like that! It''s truly unforgivable!"


    Lightning flashed across the sky as William dodged aside from the demoness" lunge. He lost his grip on Kiyora but had no time to grab her again. Rolling aside as her tail blade slammed into the masonry, he drew out his sword and slashed her across the leg. There was a scream, more like a beast than that of a person, and William ran.


    The demoness pursued, not caring about Kiyora anymore. William fled toward the tower. As he rushed in, he cursed the rigors of time that the doors should have rotted away. He raced still higher up, daring not to look back. As he did, he realized no more groaning or screeching of broken stonework. The devastation that had been taking place before seemed to have stopped altogether.


    It was of little comfort. William only hoped that the demoness was focused on him and not Kiyora. He had to kill it somehow. However, first, he had to lead it away. Kiyora might wake up while he was distracting it and escape.


    He went up floor after floor, hearing the sound of the pelting rain. Several times, he found that bits of the wall had fallen away. Beyond them, he could see the broken courtyards of Baltoth''s Retribution far below. He tried to contain his fear as he scaled past these, realizing how high he was.


    Finally, he came into the topmost room of the highest tower. He entered it and froze at what he saw. The demoness was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and an open window clearly in sight. She waved.


    "Wings, remember?" she said.


    She lunged forward. William threw his pack at her, batting it away by her tail. Yet he charged behind it and drove his sword into her chest. She screamed and backhanded him against the wall. The impact was horrible, and he staggered to the window as she drew the blade from her chest and threw it aside.


    Before she could lunge, the castle shuddered horribly. It nearly threw both of them from their feet. William staggered to the nearby window. Taking hold of the stonework outside, he climbed upwards. The wind howled around him. It threw his hair into his eyes and threatened to send him toppling from the tower to his death. Thunder roared, deafening him as he clambered hand over foot onto the roof. The metal here was slick. He could hardly keep from slipping as he tried to distance himself from the demoness.


    Then the demoness pulled herself onto the roof and rushed him, claw upraised. William ducked too late, and white-hot agony surged through one eye. Blood covered half his vision as he collapsed. It was all he could do to grab ahold of the spike to keep himself from falling from the tower.


    The demoness kicked him in the stomach twice. Then, she rose into the air. Her wings extended around her as she towered above the roof. She raised her claws. Into her palms, she summoned a great ball of violet fire. Reality itself recoiled from the unholy flames.


    "There is no escaping me, William!" she cried, voice filled with predatory joy.


    She raised the sphere of flame aloft as if to throw it. Yet she never did. Light surged down from on high as if by divine mandate, and she screamed as her entire body coursed with the energy. Louder and louder, she screamed as she fell from heaven like lightning.


    The tremors returned, worse than ever. The tower shook and fell downwards. William hoped Kiyora had gotten away. Then everything collapsed.

 Chapter 14 - Thirteen: Awakening

    William felt warm and safe. The agony of his wounds was gone, and he was resting on what he thought was soft turf. Opening his eyes, he realized he was lying in a field of just that. He could see other people, though they were blurry and not fully there. Alternatively, he was not fully there, and they were real.


    Then he saw him.


    There were no words to describe the majesty before him. He saw an image of the valor of knights throughout the universe. The closest he could come to a description was that of a man clad in armor with skin and hair as white as snow. Yet it was not unhealthy; he seemed the source of health in many ways.


    "You''ve been busy, William," said Elranor.


    William arose and bent to one knee in fealty. He drew his sword and offered it to Elranor, though he wondered where the sword had come from. He''d lost it, hadn''t he? "Lord Elranor, forgive me, please."


    "If it is incident on the boat that troubles you, then you need not fear my wrath," said Elranor. "Fear is natural when one faces their first battle, and you are not ready. Even so, you have performed admirably, and things have progressed, for the most part, as I had hoped."


    "What do you mean?" asked William, confused.


    "The demoness you faced was poised to gain control over Seathorius," said Elranor. "And had she gone unopposed, she would have succeeded. However, Kiyora has, for years, prevented her from gaining total victory. Now, with Baltoth''s Retribution destroyed, her power is greatly diminished."


    "Yet why did the castle collapse?" asked William.


    "To use the castle''s power, the demoness was forced to pour much of her strength into it," said Elranor. "They were one. When she was wounded, so was the castle. With her defeat, the castle was laid to waste. And yet, even her triumph now serves our purposes.


    "For the Mirror of Laevian drove Melchious mad, and it will be a long time before he can act against us."


    "But the demoness," said William, "she looked into the mirror and... she wasn''t affected as much, was she?"


    "That," said Elranor, "is a bit complicated. You see, when Melchious looked into the Mirror of Laevian, he was looking through your eyes. You might have been formed from sin, but you are a good person overall. So much as anyone is good.


    "Your kindness, courage, and compassion multiplied the effects of the Mirror of Laevian. They reawakened parts of him he has long since forgotten."


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "Melchious was mortal once," said Elranor. "He has fallen far since then and become a demon. Yet some elements of his old self remain. The demoness, on the other hand, is a purebred demon. Her existence is... simpler in nature."


    "I feel sorry for her." realized William.


    "Because she never had a choice?" guessed Elranor.


    "Yes," admitted William. "I mean... I don''t know."


    "Put it from your mind for now, William," said Elranor. "We have other business to speak of. Once you offered me your service? Do you still hold to that vow?"


    "Yes, of course, Lord Elranor!" said William, feeling enthusiastic. "I mean, my father will be very disappointed, and my mother will be furious, but-" S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Calm yourself," laughed Elranor. "I will not be asking for anything inconvenient just yet. You have served me well in your own fashion already. But, even so, I do not have in mind the priesthood for you."


    "Then what?" asked William.


    "I want you to become one of my paladins," said Elranor.


    "Me?" asked William, hardly believing his ears. "A paladin?"


    "Yes, you are ideally suited to the task," said Elranor.


    "But I always thought you''d have wanted someone like Raynald or my father," said William.


    "Raynald is an excellent warrior," said Elranor, "but he loves carnage too much. Your father didn''t want any part in my service. He does not trust the church and so no longer trusts me. Are you willing to do my work?"


    "Well..." William paused. "Yes, I''ll do as you ask."


    "Excellent," said Elranor, "then in time, I will call upon you for your service."


    "What kind of service?" asked William. "I mean... I''m not sure I''ll be able to do anything right now-"


    "Not right away, of course," said Elranor. "You have far too much work to do elsewhere. But in time."


    "I understand, Elranor," said William. "But the tower I was on was falling, and I was injured; how can I do anything? I ought to be dead."


    "Peace, William," said Elranor, "I would not be much of a god if I could not perform a few miracles." He looked up. "The time has come for you to awaken. Unfortunately, you are not out of Seathorius yet."


    "I understand, Elranor," said William.


    And then he woke up. His vision was blurry at first, and then he realized he was looking up at Kiyora, who was shaking him. There was a line of pain over his left eye, which would not go away. He tried to heal it but in vain. "Enough, enough; I''m already awake."


    "Oh good," said Kiyora, "because I''m not."


    "Where are we?" asked William, looking around and ignoring the pain.


    All around him were piles of fallen masonry. Baltoth''s Retribution was a shattered remnant of what it had once been. He could see the tower, which had fallen with him on it. He guessed they were in the middle of a courtyard as well as he could.


    "Beats me," admitted Kiyora, "I showed up to find you about to commit suicide. Then I looked in that mirror and was thrown back into the real world. Then I fell asleep again, and I was here. Kind of weird; usually, when I dream, I descend from heaven or something like that.


    "What have you been up to all this time?"


    "It is very complicated," said William, standing up. "I''m not sure we have time for it now. The fall of this castle may have drawn other creatures to us. Some of which may be of a less than savory nature."


    His eyes fell on his sword, planted in the ground with his pack leaning against it. "How did you get those back?"


    "Oh, those were yours?" asked Kiyora. "They were there when I woke up."


    William sheathed his sword and checked his pack. There were many rations within it, enough for two people to go for a few days at least. There was also his harp. His eye kept hurting. "Well, I''m glad they did. Why does my eye hurt?"


    "I uh..." Kiyora shifted. "You have a scar there, over your eye. Do you know how it happened?"


    "No," admitted William, trying to ignore it. "However, we left behind the only mirror in the wreckage. Come on; we''d best-"


    There was a surge of violet fire from some of the masonry, and it was flung away. Stones flew everywhere, and William ducked below a huge one that nearly caved in his skull. Out of the rock emerged the demoness. Her arm was broken, but it was healing before his eyes. Her wings fanned huge like a dragon, and her tail whipped in a fury. She roared skyward with a noise that made him shake.


    "Oh no..." said William.


    "You..." the demoness stepped forward. "You... You know what, to heaven with it. I''m done."


    "What do you mean you''re done?" asked William.


    "I mean, I''m done!" said the demoness. "I''ve already won by removing Melchious from power! I''m sick and tired of trying to kill you when I stand nothing further to gain by it!


    "Now, get out of my domain!"


    "We''ve been trying to do that all this time," said William. "And would have if not for you."


    "Just go!" snapped the demoness.


    Then she leaped into the air and flew off, muttering to herself. William watched her fade into the distance and reflected that she was tough to kill. He was glad he hadn''t had to fight her. Even so, the scar on his face hurt.


    "So, who was that person anyway?" asked Kiyora as they turned and left.


    "An unholy abomination who talks too much," said William.


    "You seemed familiar with her," noted Kiyora.


    "I don''t know what you''re talking about." mused William.


    The gates had been wrecked. They had broken so badly that they had to pick their way over them. As they made their way out, Kiyora looked around with interest.


    "What exactly happened here to break this place to pieces?" she asked.


    "I think the demoness bound the castle to her life force," said William. "It was complicated. Once I wounded her badly, the castle started to break apart. Though it started when she looked into the Mirror of Laevian."


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    "Well, no one is going to be fixing that anytime soon," mused Kiyora. "I figured there had been some invasion by dragons. So you did all this?"


    "I don''t expect I would have managed it without Elranor," said William. "And we''d certainly both be dead."


    "Not me," said Kiyora. "What now?"


    "Well, that depends." mused William. "I could try to find Felix, but he''s already under orders to escape to Artarq. Given that the demoness had no interest in him, he might already be ahead of us. So I... I guess we ought to head north toward Artarq on foot."


    "Okay, so this Artarq place," said Kiyora, "why are we going there?"


    "Because that is where I was heading in the first place," said William. "I guess you could take shelter with the dwarves, but that is far off. And I think you''d be safer in Artarq anyway."


    "Yeah, this place is getting boring." mused Kiyora. "Might be fun to dream about something else, y''know."


    "Not really," admitted William before turning around to look at the ruins. "Okay, the gate was facing me when I came out of the trees. So we went past the castle and headed through the trees on the other side. We''re very near Artarq, so once we get there, we can take shelter in one of the border forts."


    "Border forts?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said William, "the King of Antion established border forts on the border. One of the only land routes in. The idea was to protect against raids by satyrs and such.


    "I''m not sure they will know who we are. But it''s the best plan I can manage on short notice. You seem more relaxed. I mean... You lost your powers, I think."


    "Oh right, yeah," said Kiyora. "I guess I did. Whatever, the dream was getting old very quickly."


    They made their way past the castle''s ruins and into the woods. As they did so out of the trees, padding feet came. Out of the trees came Massacre, approaching William and Kiyora. The chimera sniffed at William, and he scratched its goat head behind the ears.


    "I missed you," said William. "But I''m all right now. I''ll play you some music once we''re far from here."


    Then, to William''s surprise, Massacre kneeled down before Kiyora.


    "...I remember you," said Kiyora. "Wow, you''ve gotten big, haven''t you?"


    "You know Massacre?" asked William.


    "You named her Massacre?" asked Kiyora. "That''s a bit bloodthirsty, don''t you think?"


    "He seemed to like it," said William.


    "She," said Kiyora, kneeling down to scratch Massacre behind the ears. "Massacre is a she. Isn''t that right, girl?"


    "He has a mane," said William.


    Massacre rolled over on her back, and Kiyora rubbed her belly. William crossed his arms and noted the lack of specific anatomy. Okay, so Kiyora was right.


    "All chimeras have manes," said Kiyora. "It''s part of their species."


    "How do you know Massacre, though?" asked William.


    "Oh, I saved her from satyrs," said Kiyora. "Her parents had been hunted for their pelts, and she was running for her life. So I got the trees to delve a hole into a mound for her to hide."


    "That mound was a treasure trove when Felix and I found it," said William.


    Massacre grunted in irritation, and her dragon''s head hissed. William noted the flicking of her snake tail at the subject. Again, he felt irritation at the accusation.


    "Oh, come on," said William, "you tried to kill us when we first met. I tried to convince Felix not to, but he wouldn''t listen."


    To this, Massacre made something between a growl and a grunt.


    "Massacre says that you were in her home," said Kiyora. "And had brought the satyrs there."


    "Yes, well, I didn''t know it was your home," said William. "And we couldn''t afford to be captured by the satyrs. You couldn''t use the harp alone; it was just sitting there."


    Massacre made another sound.


    "Massacre says that is why she is following you," said Kiyora. "The harp is hers, but as long as you play it for her, she''ll let you hang onto it."


    "Very well; I am grateful for your help," said William. "Now, can we please move on?"


    The trees seemed to change again. They were no longer the dangerous things they were before. Neither were they indifferent. They, indeed, weren''t friendly. Instead, the trees became... different. It was challenging to understand precisely how they were reacting to them. They became leafier and leafier, and the underbrush grew thicker. William and Kiyora were struggling to move forward. Thorns tore at their sides, and they often had to take lengthy detours to get past some areas. Even then, they had to force their way through.


    "Kiyora," said William, "could you tell these trees and things to move out of the way?"


    "I could." mused Kiyora. "But this is pretty far away from where I normally operate. It might not do anything." She closed her eyes and began to glow faintly. The trees and underbrush seemed to coil and shift tighter than before.


    After a moment, Kiyora opened her eyes and sighed. "It is no good; they don''t want to listen to me. Their old and bitter creatures don''t particularly like each other.


    They only work together to keep other people out. Mainly because they dislike things other than themselves even more."


    "One moment," said William, drawing his sword. "I''ll see if I can hack through-"


    Massacre''s dragonhead unleashed a torrent of flame into the underbrush. It burned it away before their eyes in moments. William feared it might start a forest fire, but the flames died quickly. Moments later, the brambles began to regrow.


    "Let''s go before we''re stuck again," said William.


    They moved on, and as they did so, Massacre''s goat head occasionally bit chunks off the brambles. Her chewing on them was very loud. Massacre ate through the thornbushes and various other plants quickly. They occasionally paused to burn through some more. It was amazing and worrying how fast the plants in this region seemed to regrow.


    Several times, William was caught on the foot and nearly fell. Once, he had to hack his way free of a thornbush, which reached out to grab him. The trees were determined to keep them out. Despite Massacre''s fire, they did not seem to be getting anywhere.


    "Do you feel we''re going in circles?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes, actually," said William. "Do you know this part of the woods at all? Have you ever been here before?"


    "I mostly appear around Savior''s Run," said Kiyora. "The farther you get from that, the fewer people you find. Though I heard there are some tribes of satyrs who live in this region."


    "I thought Melchious had his power mostly on the western side of the river," said William. "That is what Rusara taught me."


    "Oh, the satyrs who worship Melchious all live there," said Kiyora. "But there are other gods besides myself and Melchious. Laevian has some pretty nasty critters in this region, and there is... well... Laughing Wraith."


    Laughing Wraith. Something about the name sent a shudder down William''s spine. It was like Melchious but crueler and more feral. He wasn''t sure why. "What is this Laughing Wraith?" It didn''t seem like a who.


    "I have no idea," admitted Kiyora. "He showed up a little while ago, probably hundreds of years in dream time. Melchious and I were here first, and we were all different from him.


    "His creatures mostly keep to themselves. You don''t want to wander into their neck of the woods, though. Helping people in trouble with Laughing Wraith is..." She shuddered. "Uh, it has caused me more than my share of nightmares."


    "And you led us into their domain?" asked William.


    Kiyora blinked. "Oh, I guess I did. Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk. And anyway, it was your idea."


    "If you''d warned me about this, I''d have gone to the otters," muttered William. "So, are there any other nightmarish horrors I should know about before we go any further?"


    "None that I can think of, no," said Kiyora.


    "Are you sure?" asked William. "Because I heard from the Nakmar that some devour the bodies of the slain."


    "Oh, those are just vultures," Kiyora laughed. "Nice birds once you get to know them."


    Behind him, Massacre began to munch on some thorns.

 Chapter 15 - Fourteen: In a Sunlit Wood

    William felt warm and safe. The agony of his wounds was gone, and he was resting on what he thought was soft turf. Opening his eyes, William realized he was lying in a field of just that. He could see other people, though they were blurry and not fully there. Alternatively, he was not fully there, and they were real.


    Then he saw him.


    There were no words to describe the majesty before him. He saw an image of the valor of knights throughout the universe. The closest he could come to a description was that of a man clad in armor with skin and hair as white as snow. Yet it was not unhealthy; he seemed the source of health in many ways.


    "You''ve been busy, William," said Elranor.


    William arose and bent to one knee in fealty. He drew his sword and offered it to Elranor, though he wondered where the sword had come from. He''d lost it, hadn''t he? "Lord Elranor, forgive me, please."


    "If it is events on the boat that troubles you, then you need not fear my wrath," said Elranor. "Fear is natural when one faces their first battle, and you are not ready. Even so, you have performed admirably, and things have progressed, for the most part, as I had hoped."


    "What do you mean?" asked William, confused.


    "The demoness you faced was poised to gain control over Seathorius," said Elranor. "And had she gone unopposed, she would have succeeded. However, Kiyora has, for years, prevented her from gaining total victory. With Baltoth''s Retribution destroyed, her power is greatly diminished."


    "Yet why did the castle collapse?" asked William.


    "To use the castle''s power, the demoness was forced to pour much of her strength into it," said Elranor. "They were one. When she was wounded, so was the castle. With her defeat, the castle was laid to waste. And yet, even her triumph now serves our purposes.


    "For the Mirror of Laevian drove Melchious mad, and it will be long before he can act against us."


    "But the demoness," said William, "she looked into the mirror and... she wasn''t affected as much, was she?"


    "That," said Elranor, "is a bit complicated. You see, when Melchious looked into the Mirror of Laevian, he was looking through your eyes. You might have been formed from sin, but you are a good person overall. So much as anyone is good.


    "Your kindness, courage, and compassion multiplied the effects of the Mirror of Laevian. They reawakened parts of him he has long since forgotten."


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "Melchious was mortal once," said Elranor. "He has fallen far since then and become a demon. Yet some elements of his old self remain. The demoness, on the other hand, is a purebred demon. Her existence is... simpler in nature."


    "I feel sorry for her." realized William.


    "Because she never had a choice?" guessed Elranor.


    "Yes," admitted William. "I mean... I don''t know."


    "Put it from your mind for now, William," said Elranor. "We have other business to speak of. Once you offered me your service? Do you still hold to that vow?"


    "Yes, of course, Lord Elranor!" said William, feeling enthusiastic. "I mean, my father will be very disappointed, and my mother will be furious, but-"


    "Calm yourself," laughed Elranor. "I will not be asking for anything inconvenient just yet. You have served me well in your own fashion already. But, even so, I do not have in mind the priesthood for you."


    "Then what?" asked William.


    "I want you to become one of my paladins," said Elranor.


    "Me?" asked William, hardly believing his ears. "A paladin?"


    "Yes, you are ideally suited to the task," said Elranor.


    "But I always thought you''d have wanted someone like Raynald or my father," said William.


    "Raynald is an excellent warrior," said Elranor, "but he loves carnage too much. Your father didn''t want any part in my service. He does not trust the church and so no longer trusts me. Are you willing to do my work?"


    "Well..." William paused. "Yes, I''ll do as you ask."


    "Excellent," said Elranor, "then in time, I will call upon you for your service."


    "What kind of service?" asked William. "I mean... I''m not sure I''ll be able to do anything right now-"


    "Not right away, of course," said Elranor. "You have far too much work to do elsewhere. But in time."


    "I understand, Elranor," said William. "But the tower I was on was falling, and I was injured; how can I do anything? I ought to be dead."


    "Peace, William," said Elranor, "I would not be much of a god if I could not perform a few miracles." He looked up. "The time has come for you to awaken. Unfortunately, you are not out of Seathorius yet."


    "I understand, Elranor," said William.


    And then he woke up. His vision was blurry at first, and then he realized he was looking up at Kiyora, who was shaking him. There was a line of pain over his left eye, which would not go away. He tried to heal it but in vain. "Enough, enough; I''m already awake."


    "Oh good," said Kiyora, "because I''m not."


    "Where are we?" asked William, looking around and ignoring the pain.


    All around him were piles of fallen masonry. Baltoth''s Retribution was a shattered remnant of what it had once been. He could see the tower, which had fallen with him on it. He guessed they were in the middle of a courtyard as well as he could.


    "Beats me," admitted Kiyora, "I showed up to find you about to commit suicide. Then I looked in that mirror and was thrown back into the real world. Then I fell asleep again, and I was here. Kind of weird; usually, when I dream, I descend from heaven or something like that.


    "What have you been up to all this time?"


    "It is very complicated," said William, standing up. "I''m not sure we have time for it now. The fall of this castle may have drawn other creatures to us. Some of which may be of a less than savory nature."


    His eyes fell on his sword, planted in the ground with his pack leaning against it. "How did you get those back?"


    "Oh, those were yours?" asked Kiyora. "They were there when I woke up."


    William sheathed his sword and checked his pack. There were many rations within it, enough for two people to go for a few days at least. There was also his harp. His eye kept hurting. "Well, I''m glad they did. Why does my eye hurt?"


    "I uh..." Kiyora shifted. "You have a scar there, over your eye. Do you know how it happened?"


    "No," admitted William, trying to ignore it. "However, we left behind the only mirror in the wreckage. Come on; we''d best-"


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    There was a surge of violet fire from some of the masonry, and it was flung away. Stones flew everywhere, and William ducked below a huge one that nearly caved in his skull. Out of the rock emerged the demoness. Her arm was broken, but it was healing before his eyes. Her wings fanned huge like a dragon, and her tail whipped in a fury. She roared skyward with a noise that made him shake.


    "Oh no..." said William.


    "You..." the demoness stepped forward. "You... You know what, to heaven with it. I''m done."


    "What do you mean you''re done?" asked William.


    "I mean, I''m done!" said the demoness. "I''ve already won by removing Melchious from power! I''m sick and tired of trying to kill you when I stand nothing further to gain by it!


    "Now, get out of my domain!"


    "We''ve been trying to do that all this time," said William. "And would have if not for you."


    "Just go!" snapped the demoness.


    Then she leaped into the air and flew off, muttering to herself. William watched her fade into the distance and reflected that she was tough to kill. He was glad he hadn''t had to fight her. Even so, the scar on his face hurt.


    "So, who was that person anyway?" asked Kiyora as they turned and left.


    "An unholy abomination who talks too much," said William.


    "You seemed familiar with her," noted Kiyora.


    "I don''t know what you''re talking about." mused William.


    The gates had been wrecked. They had broken so badly that they had to pick their way over them. As they made their way out, Kiyora looked around with interest.


    "What exactly happened here to break this place to pieces?" she asked.


    "I think the demoness bound the castle to her life force," said William. "It was complicated. Once I wounded her badly, the castle started to break apart. Though it started when she looked into the Mirror of Laevian."


    "Well, no one is going to be fixing that anytime soon," mused Kiyora. "I figured there had been some invasion by dragons. So you did all this?"


    "I don''t expect I would have managed it without Elranor," said William. "And we''d certainly both be dead."


    "Not me," said Kiyora. "What now?"


    "Well, that depends." mused William. "I could try to find Felix, but he''s already under orders to escape to Artarq. Given that the demoness had no interest in him, he might already be ahead of us. So I... I guess we ought to head north toward Artarq on foot."


    "Okay, so this Artarq place," said Kiyora, "why are we going there?"


    "Because that is where I was heading in the first place," said William. "I guess you could take shelter with the dwarves, but that is far off. And I think you''d be safer in Artarq anyway."


    "Yeah, this place is getting boring." mused Kiyora. "Might be fun to dream about something else, y''know."


    "Not really," admitted William before turning around to look at the ruins. "Okay, the gate was facing me when I came out of the trees. So we went past the castle and headed through the trees on the other side. We''re very near Artarq, so once we get there, we can take shelter in one of the border forts."


    "Border forts?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said William, "the King of Antion established border forts on the border. One of the only land routes in. The idea was to protect against raids by satyrs and such.


    "I''m not sure they will know who we are. But it''s the best plan I can manage on short notice. You seem more relaxed. I mean... You lost your powers, I think."


    "Oh right, yeah," said Kiyora. "I guess I did. Whatever, the dream was getting old very quickly."


    They made their way past the castle''s ruins and into the woods. As they did so out of the trees, padding feet came. Out of the trees came Massacre, approaching William and Kiyora. The chimera sniffed at William, and he scratched its goat head behind the ears.


    "I missed you," said William. "But I''m all right now. I''ll play you some music once we''re far from here." Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then, to William''s surprise, Massacre kneeled down before Kiyora.


    "...I remember you," said Kiyora. "Wow, you''ve gotten big, haven''t you?"


    "You know Massacre?" asked William.


    "You named her Massacre?" asked Kiyora. "That''s a bit bloodthirsty, don''t you think?"


    "He seemed to like it," said William.


    "She," said Kiyora, kneeling down to scratch Massacre behind the ears. "Massacre is a she. Isn''t that right, girl?"


    "He has a mane," said William.


    Massacre rolled over on her back, and Kiyora rubbed her belly. William crossed his arms and noted the lack of specific anatomy. Okay, so Kiyora was right.


    "All chimeras have manes," said Kiyora. "It''s part of their species."


    "How do you know Massacre, though?" asked William.


    "Oh, I saved her from satyrs," said Kiyora. "Her parents had been hunted for their pelts, and she was running for her life. So I got the trees to delve a hole into a mound for her to hide."


    "That mound was a treasure trove when Felix and I found it," said William.


    Massacre grunted in irritation, and her dragon''s head hissed. William noted the flicking of her snake tail at the subject. Again, he felt irritation at the accusation.


    "Oh, come on," said William, "you tried to kill us when we first met. I tried to convince Felix not to, but he wouldn''t listen."


    To this, Massacre made something between a growl and a grunt.


    "Massacre says that you were in her home," said Kiyora. "And had brought the satyrs there."


    "Yes, well, I didn''t know it was your home," said William. "And we couldn''t afford to be captured by the satyrs. You couldn''t use the harp alone; it was just sitting there."


    Massacre made another sound.


    "Massacre says that is why she is following you," said Kiyora. "The harp is hers, but as long as you play it for her, she''ll let you hang onto it."


    "Very well; I am grateful for your help," said William. "Now, can we please move on?"


    The trees seemed to change again. They were no longer the dangerous things they were before. Neither were they indifferent. They, indeed, weren''t friendly. Instead, the trees became... different. It was challenging to understand precisely how they were reacting to them. They became leafier and leafier, and the underbrush grew thicker. William and Kiyora were struggling to move forward. Thorns tore at their sides, and they often had to take lengthy detours to get past some areas. Even then, they had to force their way through.


    "Kiyora," said William, "could you tell these trees and things to move out of the way?"


    "I could." mused Kiyora. "But this is pretty far away from where I normally operate. It might not do anything." She closed her eyes and began to glow faintly. The trees and underbrush seemed to coil and shift tighter than before.


    After a moment, Kiyora opened her eyes and sighed. "It is no good; they don''t want to listen to me. Their old and bitter creatures don''t particularly like each other.


    They only work together to keep other people out. Mainly because they dislike things other than themselves even more."


    "One moment," said William, drawing his sword. "I''ll see if I can hack through-"


    Massacre''s dragonhead unleashed a torrent of flame into the underbrush. It burned it away before their eyes in moments. William feared it might start a forest fire, but the flames died quickly. Moments later, the brambles began to regrow.


    "Let''s go before we''re stuck again," said William.


    They moved on, and as they did so, Massacre''s goat head occasionally bit chunks off the brambles. Her chewing on them was very loud. Massacre ate through the thornbushes and various other plants quickly. They occasionally paused to burn through some more. It was amazing and worrying how fast the plants in this region seemed to regrow.


    Several times, William was caught on the foot and nearly fell. Once, he had to hack his way free of a thornbush, which reached out to grab him. The trees were determined to keep them out. Despite Massacre''s fire, they did not seem to be getting anywhere.


    "Do you feel we''re going in circles?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes, actually," said William. "Do you know this part of the woods at all? Have you ever been here before?"


    "I mostly appear around Savior''s Run," said Kiyora. "The farther you get from that, the fewer people you find. Though I heard there are some tribes of satyrs who live in this region."


    "I thought Melchious had his power mostly on the western side of the river," said William. "That is what Rusara taught me."


    "Oh, the satyrs who worship Melchious all live there," said Kiyora. "But there are other gods besides myself and Melchious. Laevian has some pretty nasty critters in this region, and there is... well... Laughing Wraith."


    Laughing Wraith. Something about the name sent a shudder down William''s spine. It was like Melchious but crueler and more feral. He wasn''t sure why. "What is this Laughing Wraith?" It didn''t seem like a who.


    "I have no idea," admitted Kiyora. "He showed up a little while ago, probably hundreds of years in dream time. Melchious and I were here first, and we were all different from him.


    "His creatures mostly keep to themselves. You don''t want to wander into their neck of the woods, though. Helping people in trouble with Laughing Wraith is..." She shuddered. "Uh, it has caused me more than my share of nightmares."


    "And you led us into their domain?" asked William.


    Kiyora blinked. "Oh, I guess I did. Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk. And anyway, it was your idea."


    "If you''d warned me about this, I''d have gone to the otters," muttered William. "So, are there any other nightmarish horrors I should know about before we go any further?"


    "None that I can think of, no," said Kiyora.


    "Are you sure?" asked William. "Because I heard from the Nakmar that some devour the bodies of the slain."


    "Oh, those are just vultures," Kiyora laughed. "Nice birds once you get to know them."


    Behind him, Massacre began to munch on some thorns.

 Chapter 16 - Fifteen: The Book

    They found an area secluded from the wind with a clear view of the stars. There they sat down to rest. Kiyora spoke with the trees around while William set down his bedroll. Massacre was looking at him pointedly. William sighed before drawing out the harp and almost beginning to play. Then he stopped.


    "Massacre," he said, "if I play this music, it might draw the creature to us."


    "Oh, don''t worry about it." said Kiyora, "You can''t get so caught up in these things."


    "Have you been paying attention?" asked William.


    "It was a nightmare," said Kiyora, "it happens sometimes. The best thing is to forget them."


    With a sigh, William began to play the harp. The melody resounded through the trees, and he found his frayed nerves calming at the sound of it. Massacre, too seemed to be calming, and Kiyora sat down to listen. He played and played until he was tired of it, and then he stopped. By then, Massacre was sleeping.


    "You have a lot of talent with that," said Kiyora.


    "It''s the harp," said William. "The worst musician in the world could make beautiful music with this. Though Rusara taught me how to play."


    "I''m terrible with musical instruments," said Kiyora. "When I was a little kid, I wanted to join the school band, but I was so bad they kicked me out."


    "About this school, you keep referring to," said William. "Is it like those in Magicora?"


    "Magicora?" asked Kiyora. "What''s that?"


    "It is a city far from here where many wielders of magic study together," said William. "I don''t really know much about them. They teach people to commune with spirits and have a wealth of knowledge about the world beyond. Rusara studied there, actually.


    "Father has been trying for years to get some of their texts for our library back home, but he hasn''t managed it yet."


    "Well, we don''t get taught magic if that''s what you mean," said Kiyora. "Nothing so interesting. No, we learn normal stuff. Mathematics, literature, history, homemaking, martial arts, that sort of thing."


    "Oh, so it''s academic," said William. "They have such places in Calisha, or so I am told. And also on the elvish reservations."


    "Elvish reservations?" asked Kiyora, an edge in her tone. "What is that supposed to mean?"


    "Um..." William tried to think of a way to say things tactfully. "A long time ago, the elves were the supreme rulers of the world. They didn''t really regard those they called lesser races as people. So they tried to exterminate us. But Elranor came, and he organized us with aid from the dragons, Smyngoth and Vrengar. They gave us a fighting chance.


    "Then our greatest king, Anoa the Bright, came to power. He rallied all the races together and conquered the whole of Harlenor. The wars were bloody; both races were waging wars of extermination against each other. But there were a lot more of us, so the elves were overwhelmed.


    "Eventually, Elranor brooked a treaty with Alchara, the goddess of the elves. He gave them the whole of Seathorius. But they were weak after the wars. So the Dust Elves stole a large part of the territory from them. They were the ones who built Baltoth''s Retribution. Meanwhile, Anoa founded Harlenor. He and his heirs expanded it throughout their lifetimes."


    "And I subconsciously desire to exterminate my species." reflected Kiyora. "Weird. So you''re from this Harlenor place, then?"


    "How can you not know all this?" asked William.


    "I''m not really big on history, even in the real world," said Kiyora with a shrug.


    "Well-" William began. Then suddenly, he stood up, feeling a familiar presence approaching. He was here.


    Then a shape burst out of the shadow of a tree and fell at their feet. It was covered in filthy rags and breathing heavily. Its skin was dark, and as William kneeled by it, he confirmed who it was. "Felix!"


    Felix looked up, eyes bleary. "It... I heard music... came..."


    William set a hand on his shoulder and called upon the energy which had possessed him before. It surged into Felix, and William felt it is restoring the boy''s strength. Cuts and bruises on him were healed, and he arose, bleary-eyed.


    "Can I... can I have some water?" asked Felix.


    William offered him the last of his canteen, and Felix drank it in gulps. Then, finally, he looked up. His eyes were wild with fear. "We have to get away from here now," said Felix. "That thing is coming."


    "We may have already met it," said William. "Kiyora, come on, we need to go."


    "But we just got here," said Kiyora. "Can''t we rest-"


    "Felix knows what he is doing," said William. "The music probably attracted it. Now let''s move." William rolled up his bedroll and stowed away his harp. Felix kneeled on the ground, bleary-eyed and unsteady as he did so. He looked like he had been lying in a ditch for a week, but it couldn''t have been that long since they parted, could it?


    Then came the groaning. The trees were moaning around them with effort. William looked around at them and realized that they were shifting. The wood was changing before his eyes. He''d thought that Baltoth''s Retribution was the source of the instability in Seathorius. Instead, it seemed it was just another means of control.


    He packed as quickly as he could. "Kiyora, do you know where we can find some water?"


    "I''ll ask the trees," said Kiyora before setting a hand on one of them. There was a long pause. Then she looked up, a little pale. "They''re afraid. The trees are afraid. This has never happened before now."


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    "Okay, but do you know where we can find some water?" asked William. "We won''t get far without it."


    "Um..." Kiyora concentrated. "Okay, they''ve agreed to lead us to a pool. But... they want us to get out of here. They''re trying to stop him from coming, but he is forcing his way through."


    "We should make a break for it," said Felix. "Run now."


    Massacre made a sound in agreement. William considered the idea but shook his head. There was no time, but they could not wait.


    "We need water first," said William. "We have no idea how far away we are. Or how often we''ll find water."


    "Can we go, please?!" asked Kiyora.


    As it turned out, the trees led them away. They saw no sign of whatever struggle was taking place beyond their sight. The roots and branches seemed to duck out of their way. They almost bowed before Kiyora as they made their way onwards. Even so, it was hardly easy, for Felix seemed on the brink of collapse.


    Every so often, he would stumble, and William would have to stop him from falling. Finally, the ground sloped downwards and became rocky and easy to trip over, and the going became harder. Finally, Felix dropped to his knees and breathed for air, unable to rise.


    "Felix," said William, "it is only a little further."


    "How can you know that?" snapped Felix, "I''ve been running and hiding for days... that thing is still out there..."


    "That is exactly why we need to keep moving," said William. "We''re moving away from it right now. And we need to keep running away from it.


    Then there was an ungodly shrieking noise, not precisely heard but felt in their souls. William felt they were in terrible danger, and Felix felt the same. The other boy bolted forward, tripping over a loose stone and picking himself up in moments. They ran the rest of the way, sprinting through the rough ground as they got lower and lower. William found his strength diminishing, and Felix was on his last legs. Kiyora didn''t seem used to this running, yet she seemed the least concerned of the four of them. Massacre raced ahead, occasionally doubling back to find them struggling to keep up.


    His heart beat faster and faster, his legs ached, and his pace began to slacken. They were all tired, too tired to keep on moving. Then William saw something horrible out of the corner of his eye. He was spurred on in a panic, finding he had more strength than they had thought. The path led them ever onward until, at last, they came to a large stream running through the woodlands. Here they stopped in exhaustion. William filled his water skin, drank it, and filled it again. Felix and Kiyora did the same, and all three of them washed the dirt and grime from them as quickly as they could. Finally, all three of Massacre''s heads drank the water thirstily.


    "Why... why are you traveling with the chimera?" asked Felix. "And what is she doing here?" He looked to Kiyora.


    "Oh, Massacre?" asked William. "She saved me from the demoness, and I healed her. We''ve been hard put to it. What have you been up to?"


    "I made for Artarq as you said," said Felix. "But then I ran into a... something, I''m not sure what. I never saw it full-on, but it wasn''t very pleasant. Just... horrible. I ran from it. I didn''t know where I was going, so all I could do was try to stay alive.


    "I forgot things, everything, even my name. Then I heard the music of that harp. I recognized it... though I needed to figure out where and I followed after it. Things started coming back to me. Then I found you."


    "Then I''m very glad Massacre wanted to hear the music," said William. "What you saw is called Laughing Wraith. I gather Kiyora has clashed with him before." The pain in his scar returned, and he winced.


    "I haven''t fought him if that''s what you mean." said Kiyora "I don''t fight; I help people. People fight each other, but I don''t dream about committing violence."


    "We should rest here for the night, violence or no." said William "I doubt we can go on any further."


    Kiyora threw herself to the ground while Felix set about to make a fire. William drew out the book he had stolen from the mansion and began reading it. The wood began to burn, warming them; the others warmed their hands.


    "William," said Kiyora, "what are you reading?"


    "Oh, this?" asked William. "It appears to be a chronicle of a sorcerer named Emiran Alkatosh, who came to that mansion we saw. He wanted to study the nature of Seathorius in the hopes of harnessing it."


    "What did he learn?" Kiyora asked, sitting up.


    "Well, his accounts are pretty boring for the most part," said William. "At least so far. Emiran was a Calishan, I think. The name sounds Calishan."


    "He was," said Felix. "Emiran was a powerful sorcerer who served in Baltoth''s court. He fell out of favor, though, and retired. Eventually, he moved to Seathorius in the hopes of studying it. He gave several reports and then disappeared.


    "I studied him when my mother and I still lived in Calisha."


    "Emiran seems to have been busy," said William, "he used his powers to force the local satyrs to leave. This caused a migration of sorts. Then, once he''d claimed the area for himself, he started trying to harness the energies of this place."


    "Wait a minute," said Kiyora. "I thought you said people could only use magic by drawing it from other sources."


    "Yes," said William, "there are different types. For example, someone who draws power from a god is a holy agent. Someone who makes a pact with a demon is a heretic. Someone who deals with lesser entities such as nature spirits and djinn is a sorcerer. Now can I please continue?"


    "Yeah, yeah, whatever," said Kiyora.


    "Anyway, Emiran cleared out this whole region north of Baltoth''s Retribution," said William. "And went there once himself, though he nearly got killed. He concluded that the magic of Seathorius comes from an outside source. The dreams and nightmares of people from this world and other worlds are made manifest here.


    He seems to have contacted Kiyora to know how things worked." He looked up. "Why didn''t you mention this?"


    "Look, I''ve got a lot of worshippers. One guy asked me a bunch of questions I don''t know the answers to isn''t something I''m going to remember," said Kiyora. "He was a real jerk too. I''d never been in that mansion before; I''ll tell you that."


    "Well, whatever the case, it doesn''t change what happened," said William. "Emiran looks to have become obsessed with harnessing Seathorius. He seems to have tried to have conjured up a dreamer of his own."


    "What?" said Felix.


    "He became obsessed with what he called dreamers. I guess that means people like Kiyora. He mentions them in almost every entry. He reasoned that since they can enter the world, there might be a way to draw them in." said William. "He seems to have consulted with Melchious on this subject. The two of them worked closely, hoping to summon a dreamer."


    "What would Melchious gain from that?" asked Felix.


    "I have no idea," said William. "Emiran suspected Melchious wanted a pawn. Someone to take control of the satyrs who didn''t worship him. In this case, the dreamer would not have any of his memories. The idea would be that they could create an entity that could interact with the world like a dreamer. But they would be subservient to the two."


    "Did it work?" asked Kiyora.


    "I don''t know," admitted William. "He didn''t know either. He performed the ritual. However, his pentacle was meant for demons and otherworldly creatures. It escaped and began hunting them and everyone else in the region.


    "It seems that his servants started having horrific visions and then dying. Emiran becomes increasingly desperate after that. It looks like he could not escape from Seathorius; he returned to the manor every time he tried to leave. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The last few passages are a frantic scrawl...


    "''He is laughing.''"


    "Oh, like the walls. So that''s where Laughing Wraith came from," said Kiyora.


    William and Felix looked up. "What?"


    "Laughing Wraith," said Kiyora, "he was the other dreamer. Wow, I''ve got an evil counterpart; this is so cool!"


    "You might show some moderate concern at all this," said William.


    "Nah," she said with a yawn. "Well, I''m going to sleep. Good night."


    And she lay down before almost at once falling asleep. William shut the book and stowed it away back in his pack. He looked at Felix.


    "I cannot read that girl," William said.


    "I don''t much care," admitted Felix.


    William played the harp for Massacre again as the fires died and finally set down his bedroll. He lay back and waited for sleep to take him. The last thing he saw before he drifted off was two of Massacre''s heads sleeping while the third stood guard.

 Chapter 17 - Sixteen: A Field of Flowers

    William awoke and saw a claw reaching out for him. He rolled aside and grasped for his sword. Then he realized it was only a tendril of thorny branches. Massacre approached and chomped a bite out of it, munching on it. Looking around, he saw that Massacre had eaten away most of the surrounding underbrush. She had eaten well last night.


    William almost laughed. "Massacre, do you ever stop eating?"


    Massacre made a sound in its throats, which might have been a harsh reply. William sighed. "All right, all right," he said, "are the others up?"


    "The others are up," said Felix, who was tying his boot laces.


    William looked up and saw Felix cooking a rabbit on a stick over a merry fire. Some part of him suggested that it would be very foolish to do this. Another was so tired of rations that he didn''t care. He approached Felix.


    "Where did you get the rabbit?"


    "Massacre caught it," said Felix. "It isn''t done yet, so wait."


    "Where is Kiyora, then?" asked William.


    "Wandering around and communing with trees or something like that," said Felix.


    "You let her go off on her own?" asked William.


    "She thinks this life or death struggle against nature is a dream," muttered Felix. "If she gets hurt, it may enlighten her otherwise."


    "Because of what we''ve been through, I''ll forgive that statement," said William. "Which way did she go?"


    Felix pointed with one hand and turned the stick. William made his way in that direction, finding the trees moving around him as he did so. He glanced back, afraid that he might be cut off from the others, and was relieved to see them still there.


    Then he came into a clearing.


    Kiyora stood at the center, and the winds howled around her. Leaves flowed around her in waves, and her eyes were glowing. Her arms were upraised, and her feet floated off of the ground as magic surged around her. Her bosom rose and fell as the light of her pupils grew brighter.


    For a moment, William stared at her in awe.


    Then she landed, and the light in her eyes faded. Stretching, she walked up to him. "Oh, hey, Will."


    "My name is William," said William. "Not Will."


    "Whatever," she said, "anyway, what have you been up to?"


    "I just woke up," said William. "Felix is cooking a rabbit."


    "Yeah, I know," she said. "I don''t eat meat, though."


    "Why not?" asked William.


    "I dunno, my mom always had me not eat meat," said Kiyora. "So, I don''t."


    "All right," said William, "what were you doing out here?"


    "Communing with the trees of this place, obviously," said Kiyora, "everyone, where I''m from, can do it. I''ve never been this far north, so I figured I''d get to know them."


    "Yes, well," said William. "there are dangerous things out here, and we should get back to camp."


    "Why so I can watch you eat some poor innocent animal?" asked Kiyora.


    "As opposed to you eating some poor innocent plant?" countered William.


    "Don''t be silly," said Kiyora. "Plants aren''t sentient."


    William stared at her. The trees loomed reproachfully, and Kiyora shifted awkwardly.


    "That was a joke," said Kiyora.


    "It wasn''t funny," said William. "Now come on, it''s dangerous."


    They made their way back to camp and found Felix still cooking the meat. It looked nearly done. William gave Kiyora some of his rations, and then they sat down to eat. Who knew how long they had been eating bland rations? William didn''t, but he knew the rabbit tasted heavenly. Between the three of them {Massacre ate what they couldn''t.} It was soon polished off.


    With that done, they doused the fire and prepared to set out. William felt far better than he had the previous day, and Felix looked far better. As long as Massacre could catch the animals as she had, they did not need to fear to starve.


    "Some of the trees over this stream are very unfriendly," said Kiyora. "They don''t like us because there have been woodsmen who cut them down. We''re very near the eaves of Seathorius'' northern border now."


    "Good," said William, "it will be good to see my father again."


    "And your mother," said Felix. "You know she probably set course for Artarq straight after you."


    "Yes, Felix, thank you," said William. "I was trying to forget about that."


    They walked along the stream someway until they found some stepping stones. They then began to cross. As William led them over it, he heard a splash and halted. Looking up, he saw a glint of silver out of the corner of his eye. His hand went to his sword as he scanned the surface of the water.


    "Come on, Will," said Kiyora, "keep moving."


    "My name is William," he said, but he complied.


    He made it to the other side, and then Kiyora and Felix came. Then, as Massacre was setting her forepaws on the other side of the bank, there was a flash of silver. Out of the water emerged a giant serpent that wrapped its coils around Massacre. The beast pulled her down into the water.


    The chimera grappled with the serpent, tearing at it with her claws. Yet before she could breathe fire, she was dragged beneath the water. William could see her struggling as she was pulled downstream. Racing alongside the water, he drew his sword. Yet he couldn''t reach.


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    "What do we do?" asked Kiyora.


    "Get one of the trees to pull them out!" said Felix. "The trees by the stream!"


    "Right," said Kiyora before setting their hand on a tree.


    The roots on the edge of the water reached out and snagged the serpent around the neck. Dragged into the sunlight, it struggled viciously, while Massacre gasped for air. The chimera bashed the serpent repeatedly. She great marks in its flesh and unleashing a torrent of flame at it. The creature reeled and let Massacre go. The chimera scrambled back onto dry land, before shaking to get the water off her. It walked off, looking at William reproachfully.


    "What did I do?" asked William.


    "You stopped to look around," said Felix. "If you hadn''t done that, we would have crossed without any problems."


    "Oh," said William, looking down at his feet. Caution could backfire.


    They pressed on for some time and left the water behind them. The day wore on, and it became steadily hotter as they went on. The sun blazed down, even through the leaves, and the air became musty and humid. Sweat dripped down their brows as they went further and further. William kept on hoping they would come out into the open plains of Artarq. Yet this hope was not to be satisfied for this day or the next. It became more and more humid. The ground became wet and marshy. The further they went, the more flies and mosquitoes harassed them. Massacre''s tail was continually flicking to swat them.


    "Couldn''t you have led us by a different path?" asked William, swatting at a cloud of flies.


    "It''s all like this," muttered Kiyora. "Everything from here to Artarq. Nice view, but not so nice to walk through."


    "How can you even know that if you haven''t been this far north before?" asked William.


    "The trees told me, silly," said Kiyora.


    William should have realized that to begin with. He looked around and realized that it was a beautiful view. If he had been walking past this are on the firm ground, he would have seen a scenic lake with many lily pads. A place where red flowers bloomed, and the sun shone merrily. Seeing and doing were two entirely different things.


    Then quite abruptly, too abruptly, the ground became firm again. They stumbled into a field of beautiful white and red flowers. Every so often, there were hillocks spaced throughout the ground. There was a delightful aroma in the air. Though William desired to walk through them, a voice in his mind warned him not to go through.


    "It''s beautiful..." said Kiyora, breathlessly.


    "I think we should go around," said William.


    "You worry too much," said Kiyora, walking forward while Massacre followed. The chimera was sniffing at the air. "This place is wonderful, its... the sensation, it..."


    "Get back, Kiyora!" cried Felix.


    She turned around, eyes drooping. "What''s wrong?"


    "This place..." said Felix, "look there..." He pointed.


    William followed his gaze and saw jutting out of one of the hillocks a skeletal hand. Yet Kiyora''s eyes were unfocused, and a bleary smile was on her face. "I don''t see anything..." she said. "The flowers here are so nice..."


    And she wandered forward. Massacre let out a tired yowl and lay down in the flowers. The aroma beset William, and he found himself fighting to stay alert. He felt as if nothing could harm him. He also felt exhausted. This place was safe; he should lie down...


    He shook his head and slapped Felix across the face.


    "What the hell!" roared Felix.


    "Stay alert," said William, "do you still have that rope that the Nakmar gave us?"


    "Yes," said Felix.


    "Good," said William, "get it out and then wait out there beyond the flowers. I''m going to tie it around my waist, and you are going to yank at me while I go get them to keep them alert."


    "All right," said Felix, drawing out the rope.


    William took the rope and tied it around his waist. Then he rushed after Kiyora, who was wandering, almost skipping with a sort of vapid joy. He would have gone after Massacre. Yet he judged that the chimera could be awakened after he stopped Kiyora from getting out of range.


    Yet in truth, what was the harm in her wandering off? This place was safe, safe, and far away from any harm. William found his eyes drooping and tried to force them open. Then there was an impact on his chest, and he was pulled to alertness.


    Pollen was rising around them, and a greenish mist was falling to surround them. The sounds of birds and other creatures became strange to his ears. The sensation of his feet against the ground hurt, and he found that every step became heavier. He forced his way forward.


    He saw a vague shadow wandering and made for her. He found Kiyora kneeling on the ground, a vapid smile on her face, her eyes unfocused. She was laughing. William gripped her by the shoulder and pulled her up.


    "Kiyora, come on!" he said. "This place is evil!" S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Evil?" she asked. "Such a strange word. Evil..." she burst out into giggles. "evil, evil, evil-"


    William grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to drag her away. "Hey, let go of me!"


    "Come to your senses!" he roared. "Now come on! We''re leaving!"


    "No!" she screamed. "I don''t want to leave! This place is beautiful, leave me here!" And she began to struggle in his grip.


    William gripped her and pulled her from her feet, carrying her over one shoulder. She kicked at him, clawing at his arms and beating him. It hurt. It hurt a lot. But there was no time to snap her out of this revelry, especially with Massacre still to free. Following the rope out of the mist, he came to where Felix was holding the line and set Kiyora down.


    At once, she scrambled up and tried to rush into the flowers again. William had to restrain her physically. "Let me go! Let me go, you jerk!"


    "Don''t you see what''s happening?!" roared William. "This place is possessing you!"


    "I don''t care!" she roared. "It''s beautiful!"


    Felix dropped the rope, drew his sword, and slammed Kiyora over the back of the head with the flat of his blade. She fell senseless to the ground, and William put her down. He stared at Felix.


    "What were you thinking?" he said. "You could have hurt her!"


    "You could just heal her later," said Felix as he picked up the rope. "Now go find Massacre! Quick!"


    William nodded, drew his sword, and set off in the direction he had seen Massacre lie down in. He made his way forward for a time, feeling at ease with the world around him. Kiyora was right; this place was beautiful, and his feet were sore. He ought to sit down and rest; he was sure Massacre could take care of-


    Ow. The rope was jerked, and the pain forced him into clarity. He looked around and could see no sign of Massacre ¡ª only a hillock covered in flowers. A hillock that had not been there before.


    "Oh no," he said.


    He rushed to the hillock, slid his blade underneath the flowers, and pulled upwards. The blade tore the vines with a hiss, and green liquid spilled from them. What was revealed beneath was a lion''s shoulder, with many small wounds on it. The vines that fell on the ground spasmed and their lower halves were covered in bloody thorns.


    William was sure of his hesitation now. He began to cut away at the vines wherever he found them. Yet they seemed to regrow at a horrible rate. Several times, they grasped at his boots, and he had to cut them away. By the time he was done with that, the vines had begun to regrow over Massacre.


    Sometimes, as he cut away the vines, they would slash at him with their death throes. Soon, his arms and face were covered in cuts. And even as he made progress, he saw more and more wounds on Massacre''s body. The goat head was uncovered, and then the dragonhead. Then the lion.


    Yet he soon had to go to cut away at the vines growing over Massacre''s body. He managed to free one of the legs, then another, and another. Then Massacre''s tail. Setting a hand on Massacre''s shoulder he channeled his healing magic through. The chimera groaned as its wounds closed. William then healed himself, and then he realized his problem.


    Massacre was still sleeping, and the vines were trying to reclaim her. He found his head going fuzzy from working, and he realized he only had a little while. Sheathing his sword, he shook Massacre.


    "Massacre," he said, "Massacre, you have to wake up!"


    Massacre made a noise and shifted but did not otherwise respond. William hauled on her mane, and slowly, she opened her eyes. Massacre yawned and then felt the thorns on her. Arising, it shook them off and roared. Her dragon had unleashed a torrent of flame onto the flowers, which burned away around them.


    There was horrific screeching all around them. A raging inferno spread into the distance. The mist evaporated. The pollen was burned away with a display of smoke and fire, which choked William and brought water to his eyes.


    Finally, they stood over a barren field of ashes. And it was covered in hundreds of bones ¡ª everything from dwarves to birds, to satyrs and other animals. They all lay dead throughout the area. William stared at them in horror, wondering just how many had been killed in this place.


    Massacre yawned. She brushed against William with enough force to send him falling to the ground. Then she loped off towards Felix. William followed her and untied the rope around him. Kiyora was still resting. Felix looked none the worse for wear.


    "Is it over?" asked Felix.


    "Yes," said William. "I would say so."


    Appearances could be deceiving. But he''d already known that.

 Chapter 18 - Seventeen: Telling Tales

    A few minutes passed, during which they rested. Then Kiyora''s eyes fluttered open, and she stood slowly, rubbing her head. For a moment, William was afraid she would collapse, but she made it to her feet. She looked at him blearily, eyes adjusting to the light coming through the trees.


    "Ugh..." she groaned, "Why do I feel like I was hit over the head with a sword?"


    "Because I hit you over the head with my sword," said Felix.


    "Why?!" asked Kiyora.


    "You were under the flower''s spell," said William. "We couldn''t restrain you and rescue Massacre at once." sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What spell? What flowers?" she asked. "Everything is a blur. I remember entering a clearing or something..." She rubbed her forehead. "Didn''t your mother ever teach you not to hit girls?"


    "Why would I not hit girls?" asked Felix. "They are just as capable as males and therefore warrant no special treatment."


    "That''s not the point," said Kiyora. "It''s about chivalry."


    "If I hadn''t knocked you out, Massacre or you might very well have been dead," said Felix. "I''m not apologizing."


    "You know, you''re a real jerk," said Kiyora.


    William touched her shoulder and poured a holy power to heal her bruises. Then he let go and looked to the barren, wasted clearing left from Massacre''s flames. He sighed.


    "We have no time," said William. "We should move on now."


    "What is it with you and forced marches?" asked Kiyora. "Couldn''t we take it easy for once?"


    "We can ''take it easy," said William. "When we have reached Artarq. This place is far more dangerous than I thought, and I want out."


    "Considering what we''ve been through until now," mused Felix, "that is saying something."


    So off they went, leaving the blackened clearing behind. They continued on their way northwards. Or at least William assumed they were going north. Kiyora seemed hazy about the exact details of where they were going. Even so, they made good time and passed through the woods rapidly.


    The trees around them became smaller and shorter. Their roots no longer delved as deep, and their leaves changed. The ground became less marshy. The grass beneath their feet became steadily longer. Before long, its color turned yellow. William had heard that the grass in Artarq was yellow, and he took this as a sign that they were drawing near.


    Though their supplies began to run short, Massacre caught animals for them. And as they went onwards, William found his spirits starting to take flight. It was only a little further now, just a little while before they reached Artarq.


    Excitement grew within him. He found himself more and more impatient for the day of his homecoming. Every moment seemed to stretch into eternity as they got closer and closer. The air became drier and hotter. The trees grew still smaller.


    Then, just as he thought he could no longer bear it, they came out of the trees and into sight of the border forts. They all looked very much like Baltoth''s Retribution. Each one had the same towering spires and white walls. But they were smaller and in all ways less great. Nor did they seem terrible beneath the surface. Their walls were cracked and damaged in several places. And on one of them, there were signs that it had been broken open. Above the walls, the banner of Carn Gable stood, a golden cobra poised to strike upon a red background.


    Then William realized what he had achieved.


    "Yes!" he roared skyward. "I swore I would make my way across Seathorius on foot and find Artarq by my power, and I have done it!" He laughed. "Let us see Mother find fault in that!"


    "She will," said Felix.


    "Are you okay?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes, I''m fine," said William. "I''m reveling in my achievement."


    "Don''t you mean our achievement?" asked Kiyora.


    "Right, yes, of course," said William, eager to be on their way. "When we reach Artarq, I''ll try to convince my father to shelter you if you''d like. I mean... unless you intend to go back to Seathorius."


    "Nah," said Kiyora, "I''m tired of that dream. I''d like to see this Artarq place for myself."


    "Good," said William, "as soon as I get a chance, I''ll..." He tried to think of something to say. "I''ll see about erecting a shrine to you."


    "Oh, that''s nice," said Kiyora. "Can we move?"


    William was crushed, though he tried not to show it. He led them towards the nearest border fort, noting that the sun was setting. It would be only a matter of time before darkness fell. Looking to the east, he saw in the distance Savior''s Run coming out of the woods. It formed the border between Artarq and Calisha.


    "So that city in the distance," said Kiyora, "is that Artarq?"


    "No," said William, "that is Arsheen, the Capital of Artarq. Everything around us is the province of Artarq. You don''t think they would name the province the same thing as the capital, do you?"


    "I suppose it would be somewhat lazy," said Kiyora. "So, are we taking shelter in one of the forts? Won''t they turn us away?"


    "No," said William. "My father has some men commanding each fort. They should recognize Felix and me." The pain buzzed beneath the surface of his wound, and he winced.


    "If you say so," said Kiyora.


    Massacre yawned, looking tired. William looked to the chimera with sudden concern. She had been very helpful to them, but how would she handle being around other people?


    "Massacre," he said, "when we get to civilization, you can''t eat anyone, understand."


    Massacre gave him a look. William didn''t quite know what to say to it. "Look, I''m serious. People might be scared of you, and I need you not to give them a reason to be scared. Just... be on your best behavior, okay."


    "Bah," said Massacre''s goat head.


    When, at last, they came to the doors of one of the forts, William reflected that he was used to seeing the shape of a skull. It had always loomed over him when he came to castle gates. Nevertheless, these gates were strange to him.


    Then, someone let out a call.


    "Who are you? Stay where you are!" came a call.


    William looked up to see a lookout standing atop the gatehouse, clad in the black armor of Carn Gable. He could not see the lookout''s face beneath his helm. "I am William Gabriel, Son of Duke Vanion Gabriel. I have traveled through many great and terrible adventures to come to Artarq to see my father.


    "My companions are my servant Felix and the mortal avatar of the Dreaming Goddess." He paused. "Her name is Kiyora. Last of all, there is a Massacre the Chimera. I desire to seek shelter for the night."


    The lookout stared, then removed his helm as though unsure what he saw. "I don''t... I can''t... you tamed a chimera?"


    "No," said William. "Merely took her as one of my companions."


    "...Hold a moment while I open the door, William. I was not ready for today." Then he disappeared off the walls.


    For a few moments, they waited, and then the doors swung open. The lookout approached. Then William saw the crimson plume over his black armor. He was the commander. William went to meet him. As they neared each other, the commander drew off his helm to reveal brown hair and delicate features.


    "Sarris," said William, "Father has put you in charge of this fort."


    "Yes," said Sarris. "Things have changed since I left Carn Gable. We''ve been deadly afraid Baltoth might launch an invasion into Artarq. There were rumors that he had found allies in Seathorius." He paused. "What happened to your face?"


    "If the time we''ve had is any indication, I doubt any army could make it through," muttered William. "Can we eat? We''ve been living off rations and rabbits for weeks, and the story is too long to tell out here anyway. As for my face, I don''t know. I haven''t had a mirror."


    "Of course," said Sarris. "We were just about to eat our meal. It is my custom to spend the late hours watching Seathorius for your coming."


    "What about Massacre?" asked Kiyora, motioning to the chimera.


    "I... uh..." Sarris paused. "I suppose I could find meat and food for, erm... goats?"


    Massacre was staring at Sarris, licking her chops. William turned to her. "Massacre, why don''t you wait out here? They''ll have something sent for you to eat soon enough."


    He led them into the gates and to the keep. They were led into the great hall, where plates were being set down even now. They entered the keep and entered a large rectangular room with many long tables. Sitting at them were many men who were speaking with one another.


    As they entered, all eyes turned to Sarris.


    "Comrades," said Sarris, "we have today as our guest the son of our Duke Vanion and his companions. So there will be an extra ale ration for everyone and double portions!"


    Cheers came from the men. Kiyora, William, and Felix were all seated at the empty side of one table, and the food was set before them. But, even so, William felt uneasy, for something that Sarris had said stuck in his mind.


    "You were expecting us?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Sarris, "a ship arrived from Carn Gable under Captain Hrungeld. He brought a message from Raynald De Chevlon. He said that you had fallen overboard during an attack by satyrs. Raynald and Lady Rusara caught sight of a signal fire from the shores of Seathorius and followed it.


    "When they landed, however, they found only your footsteps and the footsteps of satyrs. They went deeper to find you and sent Captain Hrungeld a message to Arsheen."


    "How could they hope to rescue you from an entire army of satyrs?" asked Kiyora as plates were set before. "Oh, can I have water instead of ale? I''m underaged."


    William had no idea what she meant by being underaged. "Rusara is a powerful sorceress, and Raynald, the greatest swordsman in Harlenor." That was what he said. "Even if they faced a thousand satyrs, I would expect them to emerge victoriously."


    "Well, they would make a fight of it," said Sarris. "Shortly after Duke Vanion got the message, Lady Azgora demanded to know where you were. She was furious when she arrived and became even angrier when she learned you weren''t there.


    "She wanted to take the garrison and start scouring Seathorius for you. However, Duke Vanion refused to do so."


    "Good," said William. "Seathorius would have claimed many lives and left Artarq defenseless against the Calishans."


    "Well, Azgora was not happy at all," said Sarris, sipping a cup of ale. "We''ve all been given standing orders to watch for you."


    "Can we change the subject, please?" asked William. "I''d rather not discuss this."


    "Well, I should like to hear just what you have been doing all this time," said Sarris. "From the sounds of things, you''ve had one or two adventures."


    "Enough for a lifetime," said William. "It started when the satyrs attacked the ship..."


    William and Felix both described their adventures once again in full. William thought he told it better than last time. This time, there were many things that Felix had not been there for. He took great delight in describing the chase through Baltoth''s Retribution. It had been terrifying at the time, but now that it was over, William felt excited to relate to it. But, of course, he left out his connection to Melchous. He did not want the ordinary soldiers to know that yet.


    He felt very proud of the events as they played out, and now he saw what Raynald saw in all these adventures. Felix, as before, managed to out-describe him by a great deal. But he hadn''t seen the more exciting parts of the conflict with the demoness. His story was about dodging an eldritch horror in a darkening wood, and he was very descriptive. Several people shuddered at his tales.


    As time passed, the tale became more grand and harrowing. He noted the soldier''s expressions. Their gaze was doubtful or condescendingly amused. Several were glaring at Kiyora.


    "This elf is supposed to be a goddess?" scoffed one as the tale wound down.


    "Be silent, Acon," said Sarris. "You will show respect to our guests."


    They didn''t believe him. William could tell by the way some of them spoke. Anger welled in his heart. "If you wish to call me a liar, you may."


    "It is not that," said Sarris, "it seems incredible that you could have seen all these things. On the contrary, you may have... exaggerated what was doubtless a dangerous journey."


    William drew out his sword. "The Nakmar Dwarves forged this blade. Felix didn''t even have a sword before. If you doubt my story, you may see if you can find one of similar make."


    "Yes, but-"


    William drew the harp out and set it on the table. "And this is the harp I took from the chimera''s lair."


    "And I have the gold," said Felix, drawing out a jeweled silver necklace and several coins to set down.


    "And as for the chimera itself," said William, "any of you may go outside to see it! That proves at least half of my story; need you to doubt the other half?!"


    That got the point across well enough. Several murmurs went through them, and several men went outside to look for Massacre. Others came to gaze at the sword, which William offered them to look at freely. It was passed hand to hand, and everyone marveled at its quality. As they did so, William looked at Felix.


    "Felix, go outside and spend some time with Massacre," he said. "I don''t want anything unfortunate to happen."


    "Yes sir," said Felix, arising and following after them.


    Silence fell over them. The sword came back to William, and he sheathed it. Then, just for effect, William played the harp, sending the music throughout the hall. The soldiers looked on in wonder, and he stopped.


    "Now, would anyone else care to question our deeds?" asked William.


    "Very well," said Sarris, "you have made your point. Forgive us, but we were expecting half-starved castaways, not bold warriors."


    "Neither was I," admitted William.


    "Something is bothering me," said Kiyora. "I thought military organizations had soldiers eat in a different hall from officers."


    "In Antion and some other Kingdoms, that might be so," admitted Sarris. "However, we are Haldrenians. All our warrior bands, or garrisons, eat in the same hall."


    "The tradition originates from the days before King Anoa II brought us into the fold," said William. "You see, our chieftains served Anoa the Bright but went their way after the elves were defeated. They were ruled by a great King, Gavern the Dire, and he married the sister of Anoa II.


    "After Anoa II died with no heirs, his sister became King. She and Gunthred ruled over Harlenor, and her son, Anoa III, became King after her."


    "King?" asked Kiyora. "Wouldn''t she be Queen?"


    "No," said William. "Anoa the Bright refused to differentiate the position by gender. Queens came into play after the breaking of Harlenor United. He commanded that women fight alongside men in battle. And he saw no reason they should be treated differently."


    "I see you''ve been studying your history as always," noted Sarris in amusement.


    "I try," said William before feeling very tired. "Forgive me, but I''d like to retire. I haven''t slept in a proper bed in weeks."


    "Of course," said Sarris. "I''ll have arrangements made for you at once. And also for your chimera, though... I''m not sure how to make arrangements for a chimera."


    "Massacre mostly eats grass, actually," said William. "And various plants. She''s terrible when angry, but I don''t think she needs meat to survive."


    "That is very reassuring," admitted Sarris.


    Rooms were set aside for them, and Felix was recalled. As they were led to them, Kiyora looked at William strangely. William tried to ignore her looks and then snapped.


    "All right, what is it?" he asked.


    "Nothing," she said. "You seem very different from how you were when I first met you."


    "Brilliant deduction," said Felix.


    "You don''t have to snark at her, Felix; I can speak for myself," said William. "Yes, yes, I am different. I used to think that adventures were horrifying, terrible, and exhausting. Something that one wanted to be over as quickly as possible. Now..."


    "They are," said Felix.


    "Well, yes, they are," said William. "But the glory gained by partaking in them? The honor one achieves through such horrors is more than worth the risk.


    "When this began, I thought I''d never want to leave Carn Gable again after returning. Now... now I wonder if I want to go back."


    "You''re doing it backward!" snapped Kiyora in sudden frustration. "You''re supposed to grow up dreaming of fantastic and glorious adventures. Then have your hopes abruptly dashed and come out wiser! Instead, you''ve declared you hope to see more of them!


    "This isn''t how it''s supposed to go."


    "If adventures were all bad, I doubt people would seek them out." shot back William. "Anyway, there is a war with Calisha on the horizon. Soon enough, Baltoth will seek to avenge his previous humiliation. Then, the armies of the greatest empire the world has ever known will descend on Artarq.


    "At that time, my father will need every sword he can get. Including mine."


    "Stop sounding so excited!" said Kiyora.


    "But I am excited," said William, deciding to annoy her. "Adventures are glorious things. The suffering one experiences pales in comparison to the"


    "Just stop, okay? I''m sorry I asked," muttered Kiyora.


    When he reached his room, William was pleased to find a mirror within it. Looking at it, he saw his face. Over one of his eyes was a long, jagged scar. The demoness'' claw had raked along from a little over his left brow to his left cheek. He''d narrowing avoided losing his eye. It hurt, of course. Still, at least it was proof of his achievement. And he was a bit too tired to care about all that.


    He had never slept more soundly than that night.

 Chapter 19 - Eighteen: Reascension

    The following morning, William stood on the fort''s walls, thinking to himself. He thought about many things: the beginning of his journey, the satyrs, the meeting of Massacre. Then there was the demoness, and he wondered what had happened to her.


    She had been a worthy opponent.


    The wind blew through his hair, cooling him in the day''s heat. He reflected that things did not look nearly as rosy as last night. A vast forest of trees had come out of Seathorius and surrounded the fort on every side. They were cut off from the rest of Artarq. The trees swayed in the wind, and their movements seemed laced with threat. "What in Elranor''s name happened?" asked Sarris. "Why would the forest move?"


    "Seathorius shifts all the time," said William. "We''ve had a lot of experience with it."


    "Yes," said Sarris, "but I thought such shifts were limited within the borders. How could the whole forest''s eaves have moved overnight?"


    "These trees aren''t from the eaves," said William. "They are far too tall and twisted. I saw these further south, in Melchious'' domain."


    "Do you believe these trees have something to do with the satyrs?" asked Sarris.


    "They might," said William. "And I have an idea of how we might find out." He looked to Kiyora. "Kiyora, could you make contact with these trees."


    "Sure," she said, "open the gates and let me walk up to one."


    "I... don''t think that is wise, Your Grace," said Sarris, and then he paused and looked to William. "Is ''Your Grace'' the proper way to refer to a deity?"


    "Just call me Kiyora," said Kiyora. "There isn''t any other word that describes me. But why can''t I approach them?"


    "Look at those trees, Kiyora," said William. "Do they look friendly?"


    "Well, they seem to have claw-like branches," said Kiyora, "and they seem threatening. But you shouldn''t judge a person by their appearance. Same for trees."


    "If they were friendly, I doubt they should have surrounded us like this. None of us should go out there until we know a good deal more," said Sarris. "I''ve already sent word to Arsheen in any case."


    "How could you get a message to the capital?" asked William. "Those trees move. The messenger might never get there."


    "Duke Vanion foresaw such a possibility," said Sarris. "Or at least that we might be surrounded. Every fort has a crystal ball that allows one to contact the Duke. A new form of communication, he had Rusara design."


    "I know," said William. "It was designed from an artifact he brought back from his journeys to other worlds. Although Rusara and Raynald never speak of it, I was never allowed to touch the one in Carn Gable."


    "I expect his army is on its way, whatever the means," said Sarris.


    "We''ll be better off with a team of loggers than an army," said William. "Swords aren''t good for much against trees. Unless they''re magical, I suppose."


    "Oh, come on, we can''t just cut them down. Not without knowing what they are doing here," said Kiyora. "Who knows? They might have a good reason for being here."


    "They might have had a good reason for helping the satyrs catch Felix and me," said William. "I find neither likely. I don''t mean to give them the benefit of the doubt."


    "Let me talk to them," said Kiyora. "Oh sure," said Felix, "we''ll set up a white flag of parley, and I''m sure we can speak with their general."


    "Felix is right," said William. "Can''t you talk to them from here?"


    Kiyora blinked. "I have no idea. I couldn''t do it when I first came to Seathorius, but I''m a lot more powerful than I was then."


    "Then, by all means, attempt it," said Sarris. "The sooner we get these things back to Seathorius, the better."


    "They''re not things," said Kiyora. "They''re trees."


    "Very well," said Sarris, "the sooner the trees leave, the better. Is that acceptable?"


    "Very much," said Kiyora. Then she set both hands on the battlements and closed her eyes. For a long moment, silence fell over the wall. Winds whipped through her cloak, sending it flowing around her. William had told her she should wear something heavier, but she had yet to listen. Instead, a hazy glow surrounded her. It continued like that for a minute. Then, her expression became strained. She began to shake, and sweat dripped down her brow. Then she let go of the wall and backed away with a cry. William moved forward and hardly caught her before she fell off the wall.


    Kiyora got back on her feet and gasped. "They hate me. I''ve been coming into Seathorius for years and years, and I''ve never met a tree that hates me."


    "Well, obviously," said Felix.


    "What?" said Kiyora.


    "You appear to people who need your help," said Felix. "Or people who worship you. Maybe you haven''t had any experience with trees that don''t like you. No one likes to dream up nightmares, after all."


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    "Maybe," said Kiyora, looking hurt. "What do they want?" asked William.


    "Revenge," said Kiyora, "I mean... from when you and Felix escaped. The fire you started spread throughout them and hurt a lot of them. And those flowers Massacre destroyed..."


    "Yes?" asked William. "What of them?"


    "Apparently, those flowers were their allies," said Kiyora. "These things want us all dead. And they''re not alone."


    "What do you mean?" asked William. "Something else is coming." said Kiyora, "Something worse." The dark trees began to shift as if on cue, making a path for a creature that walked from out amongst them. Looking at it made William scream in horror as he averted his eyes.


    Men on the wall cast themselves to the floor and covered their faces while weeping. The sunlight itself seemed sinister. The clouds looked as though they might devour them whole. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Stand tall, all of you!" roared Sarris, though his voice was strained. "Man, your posts!"


    William knew he must look at what was coming to defend against it. He knew it. Every fiber of his being demanded, he looks away. He couldn''t gaze at it! It was too horrible! Then something, something very dark within him, demanded he look. And that wasn''t very pleasant in itself.


    Torn between them, he felt yet another presence and could turn his head back with it. However, to open his eyes... If he opened his eyes, he would see it. There would be no turning back. His fear and terror gripped him, and he was held. Then, slowly, with every bit of willpower, he opened his eyes and saw that which was approaching them.


    Laughing Wraith was approaching them. And on either side of him, many satyrs were moving toward the walls, eyes wild with terror. They screamed as much in horror at their master''s call. Some fell upon their faces screaming, but these were forced onward, clawing at the dirt. They bore ladders around them. Only sheer terror prevented them from having reached the wall already.


    "Get up!" cried William. "All of you get up! The satyrs are coming!" Sarris was working to pull his men up, and some readied themselves. Yet more is needed. The satyrs would be here soon, and the wall would be overrun. Unless he did something... Elranor. The power of Elranor. He looked at Felix. "Felix, go get my harp! Do it now!"


    Felix nodded and rushed off. William knew that even if he could use the harp''s powers to fight off this fear, it would be too little too late. He looked to Kiyora. "Kiyora, you''ve got to do something. The men are going to all die if you don''t."


    "Do what?" she asked, shuddering.


    "You are a goddess in human form," said William. "Bolster their wills with your own. Summon an army of friendly trees! Anything!" The satyrs had reached the walls and were beginning to hoist ladders up.


    "Now!" said William.


    "Yeah, yeah, okay..." said Kiyora. She raised a hand and focused. There was a pulse around her. William felt her mind in his, driving him to stand his ground. To pay no attention to a mere nightmare. He was utterly confident all of a sudden. And he was not alone.


    The soldiers across the wall arose and drew their weapons. And it was not a moment too soon, for the first of the satyrs was streaming onto the wall. The creatures bounded over the parapets and attacked, only to be cut down. A mass melee began. A ladder was cast off the wall.


    Sarris speared a satyr through the heart before knocking another from the wall. A satyr leaped and stabbed a man through the throat, only to be run through from behind. Many of the satyrs were already dead. Yet many more were coming onto the wall, and still, more were streaming out of the trees.


    The trees. They were drawing nearer. Like a noose, the circle of trees was becoming tighter. Already, they were very near the walls, and Laughing Wraith was coming nearer. And as he drew nearer, William felt his hopes begin to wane. Despair welled in his heart as he watched men die around him.


    Men who were dying because he had led these creatures here. Kiyora was shaking visibly, trying to keep the horror at bay. Suddenly, she collapsed to her knees. The horror and fear hit William like a sledgehammer and everyone else. Absolute terror consumed satyrs and humans alike. The fighting halted as both sides fell, screaming to the ground. And the trees reached the walls.


    The day became pale, all wind ceased, and the walls shuddered as the trees began to tear and drag at the stonework. It splintered and broke. Both sides were driven from the wall by the branches. And then Laughing Wraith was there. He was on the wall near William. And he was reaching for Kiyora''s throat. Kiyora staggered back, terrified and unable to move.


    William drew his sword and ran forward. It was the most foolish thing he''d ever done. But he lowered his sword on what he thought was Laughing Wraith''s wrist. He hit the arm, and there was a scream that tore at his very soul. The blade in his hand shattered into pieces, and a mark was left on the thing. William fell backward from the force and looked up. Laughing Wraith turned on him.


    He staggered back as the creature walked toward him, but not quickly enough. Then Massacre was there. She bore Laughing Wraith down and tore at the thing with her claws. Laughing Wraith did not seem to react. Though great chunks of its body were torn off, it was like chunks of wood being shaved by a model. Finally, his hands came up and gripped Massacre by the throat. Her dragon head poured fire upon Laughing Wraith, yet it had no effect.


    But then, there was a snap, and Massacre''s lion head fell limp. The chimera staggered back, roaring in pain with the lion head lolling bonelessly.


    "Massacre!" said Kiyora, running to the chimera''s side. Laughing Wraith began to stand, and William knew that if something were not done, all of them would die. So he looked around for a weapon to defend them, casting aside his broken sword.


    "William!" cried Felix.


    William looked up and saw Felix holding his harp. His friend threw the harp through the air, and William caught it. Laughing Wraith surged toward Kiyora, and William ran his hands across the strings. Laughing Wraith flinched and took a step back, and William began to play the harp with renewed vigor. He played it, pouring every ounce of his heart, soul, and talent into the harp, and Wraith was driven back. William realized that the harp was glowing. It was glowing with the power of Elranor, and his enemy could do nothing before it but cower. Then Wraith motioned to the trees which had been tearing into the wall.


    They turned their attention to William. The harp did not affect them, and their tendrils reached out for them. There was a burst of green flame, and dozens of the trees were consumed. They burned to ashes in moments, and he could hear them screaming and screaming this entire time.


    Yet William realized the power of Elranor, no, his power, was being spent. Playing the harp was becoming challenging, and the music had less effect as he played. His scar burst, and he felt blood dripping down his face, covering his eye. Laughing Wraith was advancing, while Kiyora was hugging Massacre and crying. What was she doing?


    "Run, Kiyora!" roared William. "Get out of here!"


    Then Kiyora stopped and arose before turning on Wraith. There was a flash of light from her. Wraith let out a wordless scream as its power and Kiyora''s clashed. It held in place for a moment, and then the music of Elranor made the difference. Wraith was consumed. William looked around at the battlefield. Below, the satyrs and the defenders were lying on the ground, no longer fighting. The trees were burning. Wherever he looked, there was a raging inferno of green flame, and the smoke of it was rising high into the air.


    Odd. It looked like one of Rusara''s spells.


    He became overtaken by weariness and fell backward. Distantly, he was aware that someone was calling his name. Yet it hardly mattered. Nothing mattered.

 Chapter 20 - Nineteen: An Ending

    His eye hurt. It hurt a lot.


    William sat up in his bed with a start, bringing his hand to his left eye. He could still see fine; there was no more blood. But the skin over it had a long, rough patch, so the scar must have healed. And it hurt. Oh, and everything else hurt, too.


    He looked around. He was lying in a luxurious bedroom in a bed of silk. There was the banner of Carn Gable on the wall and a shield and sword on the walls. Throwing the covers off of him, he made his way blearily for a mirror he saw on the far wall.


    Coming before it, he saw something he didn''t like at all. His face remained marred. He''d heard of warriors baring their scars with pride, but...


    There had to be a way to heal this. He made for the door. It opened as he reached it and was hit in the face.


    He hit the ground. "Ow."


    "Oh, William, I''m sorry," said Rusara''s voice. "I didn''t think you were awake yet."


    "I noticed," said William as he stood. "Why do I hurt all over?"


    "You were in direct contact with horror from the darkest aspects of the mind, William," said Rusara. "You are lucky to have your body and mind intact."


    "I don''t feel lucky," admitted William. "It has been one adventure after another recently. I''ll be glad to get some rest at last."


    "Well, I expect you may get plenty of that," said Rusara. "Your mother, of course, wanted to take you back to Carn Gable at once. But I convinced Vanion to keep you here until you awoke."


    "What happened to my eye?" asked William.


    "I..." Rusara sighed. "You took a wound that couldn''t be healed by any magic we possessed. I did what I could, but... it wasn''t enough. You''ll have a scar until we find a better healer."


    "So forever then," said William.


    "More or less," admitted Rusara. "I''m sorry."


    "Don''t be," said William. "It wasn''t your fault."


    "Yes, it was!" said Rusara. "I... we''re the ones who pressured you into coming on this trip in the first place! We told ourselves it was for your benefit, but it was just to spite your mother and-"


    William sighed. "It was for the best. Believe it or not, I''m glad I went on that adventure. I mean, there are many bits I could have done without, but..." He paused. "Nevermind. Where are Kiyora and Felix?"


    "Felix is running some errands for Vanion," said Rusara. "As for the Dreaming Goddess, she is gone. After Laughing Wraith was defeated, she ascended once again."


    "When did you get here anyway?" asked William, "I know your flame destroyed the trees. But how did you get here?"


    "Well, that is a bit of a long story," admitted Rusara. "As soon as Raynald and I learned you''d gone overboard, I contacted a sea spirit to tell us your location. So Raynald and I went ashore and tracked you and Felix all through Seathorius.


    "Unfortunately, because you had the help of a goddess, you were moving a lot faster than we were. No matter how quickly we went, you were always one step ahead. Eventually, we found the border forts under attack by trees.


    "I expect you already know the rest."


    "Yes," said William. "What happened to the satyrs? And the trees?"


    "Well, the trees by the wall were burned to ashes. The ones that weren''t fled" said Rusara. "I was in a particularly foul temper after going through all those swamps. As for the satyrs, after Wraith was defeated, they were taken captive.


    "It seems that Laughing Wraith forced them to attack the fort against their will."


    "What is Laughing Wraith?" asked William. "I read the journals, but he can''t be a dreamer. He is nothing like Kiyora."


    "You are nothing like Raynald," noted Rusara. "And yet, both of you are human. I wish I had an answer to that question, William. It would make the business of killing him much easier. But, unfortunately, I don''t, and the best I can guess is that he is a nightmare."


    "What did you do with the satyrs?" asked William.


    "We made them swear never to attack us again and sent them on their way," said Rusara. "They were in a pitiful state when we captured them. Some were even begging for death." She paused and gave him a look.


    "What?" said William.


    "You realize that if you had simply stayed with the dwarves, none of this would have happened, don''t you?" asked Rusara. "At that point, we were only a day behind you."


    "I felt I had to do it," said William.


    "Well, the next time you feel that way, don''t," said Rusara. "It was a great deal of trouble for Raynald and me, and you might have been-"


    "Well done, William!" said Raynald, walking through the door and clapping him on the back.


    "Raynald?" asked William.


    "You choose the most dangerous course of action. And when you had the opportunity to remain safe and wait for rescue, too," said Raynald. "I''ll admit I had my doubts about you, but let me tell you I''ll make a great warrior of you yet."


    "Thank you," said William, feeling a surge of pride despite himself.


    "Raynald!" said Rusara. "What have I told you about presenting a united front!"


    "I wouldn''t know; I wasn''t listening," said Raynald.


    Then William remembered a chimera. "Massacre, what happened to her?"


    "Oh, the chimera," said Raynald, "she''s fine. Her lion head needs to regenerate, but she''ll live."


    "Regenerate?" asked William.


    "Naturally," said Rusara, "chimeras have three heads. If one could die, that head would rot and kill the others. So they have evolved to resurrect their heads so long as one of them remains alive."


    "I''m glad," said William. "Can I see Father?"


    "He has been swamped lately," said Rusara. "But if you''d woken up a day ago, you''d have found him by your bedside. At the moment, he is off inspecting the border forts reconstruction. Some of the walls were badly damaged and-"


    "Leave us." said a cold voice.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Raynald and Rusara looked up and saw by the doorway the Lady Azgora. She had a stern expression, and her eyes fixed on Raynald with hatred. Raynald met her gaze right back as though daring her to do something.


    "Come, Raynald," said Rusara, "we''d best go."


    The two of them filed out, and William was alone with his mother. He felt her gaze on him and looked down at the ground as she approached him. This was it. She would yell at him and call him a fool for associating with Raynald and Rusara in the first place. He''d probably never- Was she hugging him?


    "By the goddess Zeya, William," said Mother. "If you ever scare me like that again, I''ll never forgive you!"


    "Mother, I... I didn''t mean to scare you," said William, not knowing what to say.


    "Then why did you listen to Raynald?!" asked Mother, separating from him. "You are too important to risk like that to me!"


    "Because I want you to be proud of me," said William. "But I have no idea what you want."


    She separated from him. "What do you mean?"


    "You say I should be one thing and then another," said William. "You tell me to listen to Raynald, and then you insult him and bait him. How am I supposed to prove myself if I don''t know what you expect?"


    "You''ve already more than proved yourself!" said Lady Azgora, looking like she was trying to hold back a smile. "You''ve proven yourself a fool for going along with them! A courageous, cunning, and brilliant fool!


    "What business do you have, taming chimeras and facing demons at your age?"


    "Well, it worked, didn''t it?" asked William.


    Azgora sighed. "I see now the workings of destiny."


    "Are you going to explain what you mean by that?" asked William. "Or are you just trying to be mysterious?"


    "In time," said Azgora. "In time." She arose. "Come, you have not seen Arsheen before now. It is a beautiful place. I will show you the palace for a start."


    The Palace of Arsheen was beautiful, with flowing fountains and elegant arches. The walls were as white as snow, and many beautiful statues could be seen throughout the rooms. Murals of significant battles, fallen lovers, and dark schemes.


    Almost all of them depicted Calishans.


    "Why do we keep these up here?" asked William, feeling resentment.


    "Your Father finds some beautiful," said Azgora. "Had I seized this castle, I would have burned it all. But wars are waged differently here."


    Then he saw something. The image of a blonde, bearded Harlenorian defending a nest of eggs, a broken sword in his hand. He moved forward, almost touching the image.


    "That''s Erik the Voyager!"


    "Some of the Calishans retold tales of his adventures," said Felix, appearing. "He became a folk hero in the regions he visited, so some art was created of him. You think he got the symbol of a cobra for nothing?" Over his back was slung a sword.


    "Felix, one of these days, you will have to explain how you appear like this," said Azgora.


    "Ask Rusara; she''s better at it than I am." He slung the blade off his back and pressed it into William''s hand. "I had it reforged."


    William took the sword and drew it out. The entire blade had gone pitch black, like the sword of his Father. He looked at it, noting several gleaming red runes, then looked to Felix. "What happened to my sword?"


    "After you cut Laughing Wraith with it," said Felix, "all the pieces turned black. It''s just as strong as before. I used the money we took from Massacre''s lair to pay for unique treatments that made the blade like it was.


    "Do you like it?"


    "It''s beautiful," said William. "In a savage sort of way."


    "Then it fits where you got it," said Felix. "Rusara put a few runes on it. I''m not at all sure what they do, to be honest."


    William turned the blade around and sheathed it. "Whatever they are, I''m certain they are for the best."


    "You mean like you were sure going with Rusara was for the best?" said Felix.


    "It was," said William. "If we hadn''t, we''d never have met Massacre and Kiyora and seen the things we did. Not all of it was pleasant, but I''m glad I went on this adventure."


    "Though such an attitude is an improvement," said Azgora, "you would do well to temper it with some wisdom."


    "Yes, Felix never lets me forget that," said William.


    Silence fell over them for a long moment. William stared into his friend''s eyes and wasn''t at all sure what to say. Both of them had changed over their journey. Before, Felix would never have spoken when he was talking to others. Before, William would never have looked forward to adventures.


    Before... before, everything was different.


    William smiled.


    "What?" said Felix.


    "Nothing," said William, "let''s see what else we can find here."


    The day wore on, and Mother had things to do. William and Felix continued to explore the castle of Arsheen. They saw many strange and beautiful things. Though Felix had already seen it all, he tolerated William''s ignorance.


    Finally, he and Felix came to a balcony overlooking the city. It was a beautiful sight, indeed, and William found his breath taken away. Arsheen was a vast coastal city that stretched three miles in length. Its roofs were mostly flat, but the buildings in it varied greatly. The poorest of the districts looked like works of art.


    A high white wall rang the city. In every direction around it was farmland, unlike in Carn Gable. The air here was far less cold. The sun bore down on them, and the fields were different. They grew other crops; they tended other trees.


    William wondered if he was dreaming for a moment. Then he decided that it didn''t matter. He turned from the balcony, and then she appeared. Kiyora appeared without warning. Her entrance was with none of the bright light or flash that had usually preceded her.


    "Hey," she said, looking awkward.


    "Greetings to you," he said, "what brings you here?"


    "Cut the formal speech, okay," said Kiyora, "I''m not in the mood."


    Silence fell over both of them as they waited there. Waiting for either of them to speak or break the silence. Finally, William had a question come to mind.


    "Kiyora," he said, "when you destroyed Laughing Wraith, what did you do?"


    "I didn''t destroy him," said Kiyora. "I mean, I don''t think I did. How do I put this? When I looked into that mirror, the Mirror of Laevian, I saw myself as I was. And I really couldn''t stand it; I hated what I saw so... so I think I shut that part of myself out of my mind.


    "I guess I got a bit carried away and shut away my powers of divinity as well."


    "So you manifested them when Laughing Wraith was going to kill you," guessed William.


    "No, I did it when I realized he was going to kill you," said Kiyora. "And Felix and Massacre. It dawned on me that all of you were important to me. I didn''t care if it was a dream then; I knew I had to do something." sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Gods aren''t supposed to interfere with mortal affairs directly," muttered Felix.


    "Well, it was sort of a loophole," said Kiyora. "See, when I attacked Wraith, I was a mortal ascending to become divine. I think, or at least that is how Elranor described it to me."


    "You spoke with Elranor?" asked William.


    "I had a long conversation with him," said Kiyora. "He kind of... appeared to me in my world. I think. Or maybe I''m going insane, and my dreams have become hallucinations. Either way, our reality is boring, so much better."


    "What did he say?" asked William.


    "A lot of things," admitted Kiyora. "He had a message for you."


    "Really?" asked William, eager. "What was it?"


    "''Everything goes according to plan.''" said Kiyora.


    "That smug bastard," said Felix.


    William opened his mouth to criticize Felix for speaking of the gods with disrespect. Then he realized he was just as annoyed as Felix by this statement. Worse still, he wondered if he was supposed to take it seriously.


    "I wasn''t aware Elranor had a sense of humor," admitted William.


    "Well, it''s probably a good thing he does," said Kiyora. "People who don''t know how to laugh at themselves tend to be arrogant. And arrogant people make bad decisions. People who never laugh at all should be kept far away from positions of authority."


    "I don''t think that makes sense," said William.


    Silence again.


    "You know," said William, "I meant what I said before about building a shrine to you. It might take a while, but I''ll do it."


    "You don''t have to," said Kiyora. "I mean, the Nakmar have their means of worship."


    "Just think of it as my way of saying thank you," said William.


    He looked down at the gatehouse where the watchmen were peering down. Someone was at the gate. He wondered who it was, what they were doing here, and what the watchman was saying to him.


    "Open the gates!" called the watchman. "The Duke has returned!"


    William looked at Kiyora. "Could you stay for a bit longer?"


    "Well, I''ve probably got someone who wants my help," said Kiyora. "But I guess I could spare a minute or two."


    "Great," said William, "do you want to meet my father?"


    Kiyora smiled slightly. "I uh... sure, I guess."


    "Great," said William, "let''s go."


    The adventure had concluded. Yet William could hardly wait for the next one. He took this as proof that he had gone slightly mad.


    It was an ending of sorts. But it did not end.

 Chapter 21 - Book 2: The Heir of Kings

    I hope you have enjoyed Book 1 of Heaven and Hellfire, the Dreaming Goddess. I''m incredibly honored that so many people have come to read the book in such a short time. It means a lot to know so many people read this.


    Below is a note on the book''s development:


    The original vision for the book had William as thirty-eight. By then, he was already an experienced Paladin and featured the Demoness as his succubus ex-wife. Later on, the Demoness was supposed to be a dragon to a servant of Laevian called the Green Lady. The Green Lady was similar in concept to the White Witch from Narnia, and Kiyora was the main character. Baltoth would have had a much more prominent role. William as a kid, was added in as a secondary protagonist to Kiyora. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    However, the Green Lady proved boring as an enemy. Despite a somewhat interesting backstory, it had no presence. Thus Melchious, an older design, was brought in. But Melchious was so formidable that there was no way William could beat him directly. So the Demoness ended up stealing the show and becoming the de facto big bad. Only to then immediately ditch the entire story because she had already won. Laughing Wraith was thus envisioned as the final antagonist. He has his own connections to events and Melchious that I hope to go into later.


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    At the same time, Kiyora''s ability to warp in and out of her world made for a bad protagonist. William was stuck in Seathorius and had to get out by grit alone. Kiyora, on the other hand, could leave anytime she wanted, so her POV lacked tension. As a result, the early drafts were discarded. William became the principal protagonist. Felix was created as someone for him to talk to. Felix ended up proving to be one of the most formidable characters in the narrative.


    In addition, there was supposed to be an entire subplot. One dedicated to Raynor and Rusara following William''s trial. But I realized the only purpose it served was setting up their rescue toward the end of the story. And that could just as easily be left as a surprise.


    Beyond this point, we are getting into the sequel, Heir of Kings. Heir of Kings takes place in the same world but at a very different location. The heroes of this story will be different from William, Felix, Massacre, and Kiyora. But don''t worry, we''ll be getting back to them sooner or later.

 Chapter 22 - Prologue: The Thief

    Tanith slipped up the mountaintop, a burlap sack over one shoulder. A dark cloak covered her armor, and her swords were by her sides. She scaled her way up to the cave entrance. The coldness seemed exceedingly terrible here, and the darkness loomed before her. Tanith halted for a long moment. Then, turning, she glanced back to the border villages.


    She had some doubts about what she was about to do. But she''d come here to fight. And there hadn''t been a fight yet.


    She''d spent enough time throwing knives at dartboards. Now was the time for action. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Tanith returned to the cave and slipped into it, careful not to make a sound. As she made her way down, she heard a heavy breathing sound like a sleeping dog. A smile came to her face as she turned the corner.


    A dragon. A black dragon.


    It would be so easy. She could cut the nasty things head off any time. But that wouldn''t start a war, would it? No, Benarus would beg and scrape about how it was a mysterious group of adventurers. He was worthless as far as lords went.


    She needed the dragons to make the first move. That would bring their werewolf allies into things. Kneeling down, she took hold of the treasure. Instantly, she felt a blow. Not a physical impact but a spiritual one. Tanith felt like there was something within this treasure. There was something more than mere gold.


    It was watching her.


    It certainly didn''t stop her as she filled it up. She didn''t take much. Just enough to notice, just enough to provoke. The dragon would follow it back.


    Stealing back up the cave, she slipped away.


    She moved quickly down the mountain road. She was as good as dead if she was spotted at this stage. And nothing would come of her plan.


    But she wasn''t spotted.


    Soon, she had reached human lands and was walking along a regular road. The morning was dawning, but no one had gotten up just yet. As she came near a village, Tanith took some gold out of the coins and scattered it across the fields nearby. She moved with speed and stealth, learned from the Calishan Wars.


    Tanith threw every coin she''d just stolen into various fields. Then she tossed the bag away and pulled off her cloak. From there, she walked up to the village and entered the inn.


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    There was Argath, looking over the map. She paused. "Argath, what are you doing here?"


    The dwarf looked up. "Oh, Tanith. I apologize; I sent word ahead. But the messenger said you''d already gone off on your own. Where were you?"


    "In the Wolven Forest," said Tanith. "I wanted to get a look at these werewolves myself."


    "Did you find them?" asked Argath.


    Tanith shrugged and sat down before motioning to the barmaid. The girl had chestnut hair and wore a white shirt, which showed off her assets. Tanith appreciated it more than most men. "Get me the usual, Emma."


    Then she looked to Argath. "No. They didn''t attack me."


    "Well, that is a relief," said Argath. "Perhaps Telix is serious about this."


    Tanith stared at him.


    "What is it?" said Argath.


    "You pick now to start acting like Calishans are people?" asked Tanith.


    "Telix isn''t a Calishan," said Argath.


    "The hell he isn''t," said Tanith. "He''s a son of Baltoth. He''s more Calishan than any of the animals we killed while raiding. So what did you say, ''Kill them all, and they''ll be reincarnated as something worthwhile?"


    "What happened to you, Argath?"


    Argath remained silent for a long moment. "...What we did. What I made you do, Tanith, it was too much."


    "Like hell it was," said Tanith. "You did exactly the same thing a dozen times. I talked with Raynald. What? So it''s alright for you to crucify a priest of Baltoth and rape his daughter. But we''re stepping over dangerous bounds when I try to do the same thing.


    "When did the greatest mercenary captain in Harlenor start hiding behind meaningless treaties?"


    "The day I realized I''d taught you everything I knew," said Argath. "And I saw myself in the mirror with clarity. Tanith, Baltoth is pure evil. Everyone knows that. But I went too far."


    "Yeah, you also dragged me down here with the promise of battling werewolves." snapped Tanith. "I haven''t killed anything since we got back from the raid. I could have gone to visit William and Felix and my family. But then you told me there were dragons and werewolves to fight."


    Argath sighed. "The situation has changed, Tanith. When Duke Vanion made this... arrangement, no one thought it would work. But so far, it has.


    "Our services might not be required at all."


    "So am I still getting paid?" asked Tanith.


    "We could find employment here," said Argath. "You''ve already improved the skills of the trainees by your very presence. Benarus could use you as an instructor-"


    "I came here to kill dragons, Argath," said Tanith. "If we don''t have a war soon, I''m leaving and going to Artarq. I hear there is a war coming there."


    "...What do you want from me, Tanith?" asked Argath.


    Tanith considered the question. "I followed all your orders, Argath. I did everything you asked of me. I became everything you wanted in a subordinate while Eitrigg was talking mutiny.


    "So why the hell do you look at me like I''m some kind of monster?"


    Argath said nothing.


    And then screams of terror came from outside the village. The roar of a dragon echoed in their ears. The waitress clutched her ears in pain. People rushed outside to see what was happening. For her part, Tanith smiled.


    "Now see," said Tanith, "this is what I wanted from you."


    She threw aside her cloak. Her swords were out and thirsting for blood in a moment. Tonight, she dined on dragon meat.

 Chapter 23 - One: The Bright King

    Relma was going fishing in her spare time.


    Of course, fishing alone was never as good as fishing with a friend. So she dragged Ronald along with her. Ronald, being a halfling, was not very fond of being near large bodies of water. But the red-haired boy wanted to appear bold. So, he would never bring the facts up.


    It was a bright, sunny day beneath the gaze of the Black Mountain. There was a gentle breeze that kept things from being too hot. Unfortunately, it wasn''t strong enough to drive away the storm clouds. They still loomed over the Black Mountain. She''d seen them every morning as she left the house her entire life, and they never ceased to gall her. Still, other than them, only a few whiffs of cloud could be seen in the sky. Not that Ronald was enjoying it.


    "Relma, we''re not supposed to be out this far. Your Aunt Pan doesn''t like us going near the river without supervision." So Ronald was approaching the stage of second thoughts, was he?


    "Ronald, I have scrubbed every pot in the cellar a million times," said Relma. "I can handle getting a little wet. And so can you."


    "I know, but Pan doesn''t do these things without reason," said Ronald. "And Father always tells me to listen to her."


    "I want to do a bit of fishing, okay," said Relma. "It''s not like the river is renowned as a place of monsters. We''re miles from the border, and the satyrs haven''t dared cross it in years."


    "I know," said Ronald. "I know." He said again.


    They reached the bank, set their bait, and cast their lines. Ronald didn''t seem as nervous now that they were by the water. They talked about things. The comings and goings of the farms. The latest runes that Aunt Pan had set up.


    And then Ronald sat up with a start. He looked toward the woods, then to Relma. "Did you see that?"


    "What?" asked Relma, following his gaze. She saw only the underbrush.


    "I thought I saw something in the woods," said Ronald.


    "I don''t see anything," said Relma, hoping something might be out there. Then she got a bit. It hauled on her line and nearly pulled it out of her grip. She held on for dear life. "Wait! I''ve got one! I''ve got a huge one!"


    She strained to pull the fish out. But whatever it was yanked hard, and she lost her footing. "Relma!" cried Ronald.


    Then Relma was pulled into the water. She beat her way up as best she could, trying to keep her head above. But, unfortunately, she had never been any good at swimming. She was being pulled downstream. Finally, she saw Ronald running after her and offering her the end of a long branch. "Relma, take the stick! Come on, quick!"


    Relma reached out to snatch it, but her fingers slipped, and she was swept away. Pulled under the water, Relma hit her head, and everything went black.


    When she next awoke, her head didn''t hurt at all. She was lying on a bedroll beneath the shade of a tree. She could hear the river running by her. As her vision cleared, she saw someone looking down on her. He had long blonde hair and angelic features. He was the fairest person Relma had ever seen. She sat up with a start, feeling a blush creeping across her parts. He smiled. Relma felt a warmth at his smile. "So, you''ve awoken?"


    He was wearing armor. The most beautiful armor Relma had ever seen. It gleamed in the sun and was adorned with the symbol of a Sword surrounded by lightning bolts. The royal crest of Ancient Harlenor.


    "Where am I?" asked Relma.


    "On the island of Gel Carn," said the man.


    "I know that. I grew up here," said Relma. "I meant, where on it am I?"


    "Somewhere along Smyngoth''s River." said the man with a smile. "I''m not sure where. I pulled you out of it an hour ago."


    "You pulled me out?" asked Relma. "Why?"


    "You looked like you were drowning; I thought I might help." said the man. "Would you have preferred I stay my hand?"


    "Right, that is a stupid question," said Relma. "Who are you?"


    "Anoa the Bright," said the man.


    Relma smiled despite herself. She almost laughed. "Oh, come on. Everyone knows Anoa the Bright died ages ago. Besides, you don''t look at all like him."


    "Interesting, you should say that," said Anoa. "What makes you so sure?" Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, Anoa the Bright was the greatest hero ever to live," said Relma. "I don''t think he''d wear fancy armor and fine cloaks like what you are wearing. He''d dress in simple clothes, and you wouldn''t know him to be royalty until you saw a sort of inner nobility. You''re a bit too finely dressed for the part."


    He laughed. "I suppose so. One changes over time. You never are the same from one minute to the next. What is your name?"


    "I''m Relma," she said. "I''m a farm handover at Fulsofs Farm. I live with my Aunt Pan."


    "And what is your last name?" asked Anoa.


    "I..." Relma paused. "I don''t know. I''m just Relma."


    "And no doubt your Aunt Pan is keeping some great secret from you. One that, when revealed, will shock you to your core," noted Anoa with a smirk.


    "Aunt Pan doesn''t lie," said Relma. "Though if she did know a great secret, she probably would never have told me."


    "Ah, so you don''t trust her?" guessed Anoa.


    "No, I trust her," said Relma. "But she doesn''t really tell me much. Not even about my parents."


    "Oh, them. I remember them," said Anoa. "You do?" asked Relma. "But you didn''t even know who I am."


    "I wasn''t sure who you were at first," admitted Anoa. "If I recall... yes, now, I remember. They were Resca and Hadleim. Hadleim was a soldier who won glory for himself fighting the satyrs of the eastern marshes. And Resca was beautiful.


    "I remember she had hair like yours and was very humble. She always thought too little of herself."


    "What happened to her?" asked Relma. Why did she believe him?


    Anoa remained silent. "...A sorcerer of great power, who went by the name of Tuor, found them. He slew Hadleim and Resca. But Pandora the Sorceress stopped him from killing you, and he was forced to withdraw."


    "Where were you during this?" asked Relma. "Why didn''t you help them?"


    "A fair question," said Anoa. "The truth is I went beyond this world a long time ago. It is no longer my role to help people. I have a different task now."


    "How do I know you''re not making all this up?" asked Relma.


    "Ask your Aunt Pan," said Anoa. "I expect she knows the truth. Or don''t. She''ll tell you sooner or later."


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    "Are you really Anoa the Bright?" asked Relma.


    "I left my old self behind long ago," admitted Anoa, eyes growing distant and taking on an uncanny gleam. "What remains now is a shadow, a memory that can scarcely be recalled."


    "You''re right in front of me," said Relma.


    "I''ve been thinking about who I am a great deal of late," admitted Anoa. "Now, you''d best be returning to your Aunt Pan. I''m sure she''ll be worried sick about you."


    "Relma! Relma!" cried Ronald''s voice.


    Relma looked up and would have run toward him. Then she halted and looked to Anoa. "Thank-" she began. But Anoa was gone. So was the bedroll. "-you."


    Had she seen things? But then why wasn''t she wet? And how had she gotten out of the river?


    Ronald came out of the trees before she could think about anything else. He was sweating heavily, and his pink cheeks were particularly red.


    "Ronald," said Ronald.


    "I went to get Pan, and she''s here," said Ronald.


    And then Aunt Pan stepped out of the trees. Or perhaps the trees made way for her. Her dark hair was flowing about her as she approached. Her eyes were narrowed, and Relma shrank as she approached.


    "Well, you''ve been busy, haven''t you, Relma," said Aunt Pan.


    "I uh... yes, I have," said Relma. "I pulled myself out of the river by the roots."


    "Well, you can pull yourself back into dry clothes," said Aunt Pan. "You''ve gotten into enough trouble for one day, I think. Otherwise, you''ll catch your death. Come with me."


    "Aunt Pan, who were my parents?" said Relma.


    Pan halted. "Relma, I thought I told you we''d have this conversation when you''re old enough to understand."


    "Well, when will I be old enough?" asked Relma.


    "I''ll tell you when," said Pan.


    "Well, what were their names?" asked Relma. "I want to know who I am. Can''t you tell me anything?" If Aunt Pan told her that much, she could know if Anoa was telling the truth. "Your mother''s was named Resca.


    "Your Father''s was named Hadleim."


    Point one for Anoa telling the truth. "Was he a soldier?"


    Pan looked at her sharply. Relma knew she''d struck a nerve. "What gave you that idea?"


    "So, he wasn''t?" Relma pushed her.


    "No, he was," said Pan. "But he didn''t like fighting, so he retired and became a farmer. That was when he met Resca. Now, let''s pick up the pace. You might catch your death. The other answers will come to you in time."


    Relma decided not to push her luck any further.


    The rest of the week passed like any other. Relma went through her work in the scullery, pondering where Anoa had come from. And if he really was that legendary old king. Did he often appear to people like that? It seemed a kingly thing to do, but she hadn''t had any stories.


    Either he did. Or she was someone special. Would his ghost really know the names of two commoners? He seemed like he had a personal interest in them. Elranor, she could see doing that; he was a god. But mortals could only remember so much.


    If Anoa did have a personal interest in her parents, he might have a particular interest in her. That would be wonderful. And she was distracted by the prospect. While drilling with the halfling militia, she fell out of formation and got a stern talking to.


    What about this Tuor fellow? Who was he?


    If he had killed Relma''s parents, he probably had a reason. Maybe he was an enemy of Aunt Pan, obviously Pandora the Sorceress. The name was slightly different, and it wasn''t as though she had bothered to hide her abilities. She just pretended they were a lot weaker than they actually were.


    Or at least Relma imagined it to be so.


    Come to think of it, if her parents had been killed by Tuor, why would Pandora decide to raise Relma as her own? They must have been at least friends. Which probably meant that Tuor killed them to get at Pan.


    Or perhaps Relma was utterly wrong.


    Either way, things changed in the middle of the following week. Relma had just finished her chores and was walking out when Ronald approached her. "Relma, Relma!"


    "What is it, Ronald?" asked Relma.


    "Aren has come," said Ronald. "I heard from Father he''s come over the river and is coming to Gel Carn."


    Aren, or Gail Arengeth, as he was known in legend, had not been down this way for two years. He often traveled, telling stories and meeting with kings and lords. He spoke to everyone as an equal, no matter their rank. Mainly because he didn''t have a rank, or, if he had a rank at all, it was so far above everyone else.


    He could have some of those Sornian Fireworks he''d brought last time. He''d said he''d make a batch of them himself. "Let''s go meet him."


    Ronald led her down the road toward the river. They moved quickly, and soon, they came across an old man with a long gray beard and shabby brown clothes. A gnarled old staff was in his hands, and on his head was a brown hood.


    "Aren, you''re back at last," said Relma. "We haven''t seen you for two years."


    And she hugged him. Aren returned the embrace. "I''m sorry, Relma. I meant to come back earlier. But there is always one thing or another that needs tending. Especially of late."


    Relma looked up at him, and his eyes were troubled. That meant bad things were afoot. "What do you mean?"


    "I mean, I was delayed by the ambitions of Mighty Lords with many complex plans. Most of which they aren''t half capable of achieving," said Aren. "Escor nearly had another civil war, you see."


    "Escor always has civil wars," said Ronald.


    "Yes," said Aren. "If nothing else, I can trust the reign of King Vortegex to keep things interesting. But, unfortunately, things have been going badly, I''m afraid. Petty disagreements that have been bubbling for years are nearly boiling over."


    "Is Vortegex a bad king?" asked Relma as they began to walk.


    "Oh, I wouldn''t call him that," said Aren. "He is paranoid and not unjustly so. His forefathers left him a precarious throne. And House De Chevlon is always meddling in things they should have left behind long ago.


    "How has the scullery faired?"


    "You know as well as I," said Relma. "I met an... interesting situation a little while ago."


    "Indeed?" asked Aren. "And what was that?"


    Relma didn''t want to lie again. But, unfortunately, neither did she want to tell the truth either.


    "We were out fishing, and Relma caught a huge one," said Ronald. "But it pulled her into the river and dragged her downstream. We had to spend hours looking for her."


    "A near thing," said Aren. "You really should be more careful about disobeying your Aunt. If you get into trouble, you''ll need to go for her to help, and then you''ll be kept on an even tighter leash.


    "Speaking of leashes, have you learned to read yet?"


    Relma blinked. Read? "Um, no. I wasn''t aware I was supposed to.


    "What has your Aunt been putting you up to all this time?" asked Aren.


    "Aside from the scullery?" asked Relma. "Odd jobs."


    "Well, that is it," said Aren. "I think I will have to have a word with her. I intend to do it before I meet with the Steward."


    That confirmed that Aren and Aunt Pan had a personal investment in her education. Even if Aren dealt with unimportant people all the time, this was far too involved. Why hadn''t Relma picked up on all this before?


    "The Steward?" asked Ronald. "You''re meeting with Steward Benarus?"


    "Yes," said Aren. "One or two minor points that need addressing."


    "What about?" asked Relma.


    "The salvation of the world. The defense of the realm," said Aren. "What sort of crown one king or another ought to wear. The usual nonsense I have to contend with."


    "That sounds much more exciting than what I''m doing," said Relma.


    "Of course it does. New things always are," said Aren. "Unfortunately, I''ve been in this business since the days of Anoa the Bright. It has all become rather monotonous. Tyrants rise and fall, and no one is pleased with what they have until they lose it."


    "Do you have the fireworks?" asked Relma. Aren made very good fireworks displays.


    "I did," said Aren in an annoyed tone. "But they got ruined in an accident. Making them was more difficult than expected, and I didn''t properly deal with the black powder. I''ll try better next time. Making them is certainly more entertaining than making kings."


    "Have you made kings in the past?" asked Ronald.


    "That is a foolish question, young Ronald," said Aren. "But if I need to elaborate on my reputation, the answer is More than a few. Of course, Anoa the Bright was the one everyone remembers. But there were some other Kings I helped come to power who didn''t see their realms last. And then, of course, there was that fiasco with the breaking of Harlenor. So, things became even more complicated.


    "Really, things are impossible. Don''t ever go into the wizarding business, young Ronald. It takes as much work as ruling a Kingdom, and you get even fewer thanks."


    "Kings get thanked all the time," said Relma.


    "Yes," mused Aren. "And if the people thanking aren''t cowering in fear, they are usually clutching daggers."


    Relma felt Arengeth would be much more important than Resca and Hadleim. She had to be sure to get into his good graces.

 Chapter 24 - Two: Unsurprising Revelations

    They arrived home.


    Home was a house that Ronald''s Father had set aside for Aunt Pan to live in. It was near the border of the Halfling lands, and Relma had always liked the place. It was a one-room cottage built of stone. But the inside was lined with wood to block out the cold. Furs lined the walls as well.


    Aunt Pan was outside of it as always, tending to the garden. When she saw Aren, she blinked. Then, at once, she stopped what she was doing and made her way up to him.


    "Aren, I wasn''t expecting you here," said Aunt Pan.


    Aren shrugged. "Of course, you weren''t. I need to discuss something with you, and it can''t wait."


    "Very well," said Aunt Pan. "Let''s discuss it." She looked at Relma. "Relma, wait here. We''ll speak alone."


    Relma nodded and walked some ways away. They often spoke like this. For a while, she had thought Aunt Pan was just a friend of Aren''s. Someone he said with for information. That was how she tried to pass it off, anyway.


    Of course, that explanation fell flat when you considered that no one else spoke to Aren as an equal.


    As soon as the door shut, Relma immediately ran up to the window and listened by it.


    "Relma?" said Ronald. "What are you doing?"


    Relma put a finger to her lips in a gesture of silence. Ronald got the point.


    "Why haven''t you taught her to read by now?" she heard Aren say.


    "I didn''t judge it necessary," said Aunt Pan.


    "Didn''t judge it necessary?" asked Aren. "Do you know how important being able to write letters is? The girl may have much writing to do in her life."


    "I will teach her when she is ready," replied Aunt Pan.


    "When she is-" Aren sputtered. "Do you want the girl to grow up without a thought in her head? You should start teaching her now."


    "We agreed that her education was in my hands," said Pan.


    "Yes. We did," said Aren. "Unfortunately, it doesn''t seem you are giving her an education."


    "I am teaching her humility. I didn''t learn to read at her age," said Pan. "And the more mundane variety of skills could be useful." S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, stop. You''ve hammered that lesson in hard enough, and she is starting to resent it," said Aren. "I want you to teach her how to read beginning now. What are the other aspects of her education?


    "I assume you haven''t just been giving her a humble upbringing on a farm."


    Dead silence. Relma smiled.


    "...You did," said Aren incredulously. "What were you thinking?"


    "I didn''t want her growing up believing she was somehow better than everyone else," said Aunt Pan.


    "Yes," said Aren. "And as a result, she is approaching adulthood and lacks the necessary skills."


    "There is still time," said Pan. "Her bloodline will make it easier. And anyway, there is no certainty that it is her destiny. Far from it, we could still be waiting-"


    "Destiny is unpredictable," said Aren. "And even if it isn''t her destiny, she will need more practical skills. Or have you heard nothing of Duke Vanion?"


    "You said Vanion was of no concern," said Aunt Pan.


    "That was years ago, Pan," said Aren. "I misjudged him. I assumed that his connection to Melchious would end his career. Instead, he used it to engineer the downfall of his enemies. He has become the governor of Artarq and will be in command of the front line against Calisha. Any victories that are won there will increase his glory. And if he is defeated, it will be an even worse disaster.


    "Have you seen this, Pandora?"


    "What is this?" asked Pan.


    "It''s an adventure story. Written by his son. It has become prevalent among literate circles," said Aren.


    "His son is fourteen years old. No older than Relma," said Pan.


    "Yes, well, apparently, he washed ashore in Seathorius and made his way back to Artarq on foot," said Aren. "There is probably some semblance of truth in the account. But knowing Vanion, he has doctored the truth to serve his purposes."


    "Let me see it," said Aunt Pan. "The Dreaming Goddess. Strange title."


    "At the very least, I think he met her," said Aren. "He pictured her precisely right. I suppose I''ll have to meet the boy to know for sure how many lies and how much is the truth. I do know that he did see Elranor.


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    "William is already famous. And now my sources tell me he has taken to healing the sick and injured of Artarq as a miracle worker."


    "Why is this a concern?" asked Pan.


    "King Andoa''s granddaughter, Ansara, is the same age," said Aren in frustration. "Elranor above, Pan, have you been paying attention?"


    "I have been in Gel Carn for the last century, Father," said Pan. "I hear only what news you and others bring. People in Gel Carn are concerned about things closer to home, and Duke Vanion is a faraway name." Well, that confirmed she was Pandora the Sorceress, at least.


    "Well, he won''t be far away if he marries his son into royalty," said Aren. "Gel Carn is practically part of Southern Antion."


    "What if he does?" asked Pan. "Dynasties rise and fall."


    "He has holdings in Haldren," said Aren. "And he has a legitimate claim to the throne of Escor. If his family becomes the Royal House of Antion, they may start a war of conquest. Ambitious men try to fulfill the prophecy themselves when they are too proud.


    "You know how Haldrenians get about fate. We can''t let that happen."


    "Then what do you propose we do?" asked Pan, concerned.


    "For a start, speed up the girl''s education," said Aren. "I''m taking her to the Steward''s Castle for training. So she''ll be taught properly there. And for another thing, I''ll tell her exactly who she is and what her legacy was."


    "No, you will not!" said Pan. "The first I''ll concede to, but I won''t reveal that to her until she is ready to bear the responsibility. You know what knowledge like that can do to people."


    "The girl is stronger than you think," said Aren. "But I take your point. She''ll be asking many questions, though. She''s been listening to us this whole time. So why don''t you come out, Relma?"


    Relma blinked and stood. Then she opened the door and walked in, not bothering to look sheepish. Aunt Pan looked at her with narrowed eyes, but Relma smiled innocently and stared right back.


    Finally, Aunt Pan looked away. "How did I not see her?"


    "I hid her from your view, obviously," said Aren. "You''ve sheltered her far too much, daughter."


    "Aunt Pan, what is going on?" asked Relma, keeping her smile on.


    "That is a very long story, my dear," said Aren. "We don''t have time to tell it all. But to make a long story short, your Aunt is actually Pandora the Sorceress, my daughter. We have worked together for many years to thwart the great enemy."


    "Pandora, wow," said Relma in exaggerated wonder. "I never knew. Golly gosh, this is shocking."


    Her efforts to annoy Aunt Pan worked quite well. "Yes, Relma, I know you''ve suspected for years," said Pan. "But so long as you didn''t ask, I saw no reason to tell you more. What caused you to believe it was so?"


    "I''m not blind, deaf, and stupid," said Relma with a shrug. "Everyone you talk with instantly shows great respect. You know all kinds of runes which can be used for practical effect. And whenever you speak, people listen. Lord Artor Fulsof has come to you for advice more than once.


    "Plus, everyone I ask tells me you look exactly the same as you did when you first came here."


    She paused. "Why are you raising me? Was it because of my parentage?"


    Aren and Aunt Pan shared a glance that answered the question. "That is one of the things we don''t have time for," said Pan. "I will tell you in time. But if I told you now, it would interfere with your development.


    "For now, we''ll have to go to Gel Carn."


    "But we''re already at Gel Carn," said Relma. Being literal was fun.


    "I mean the castle of Gel Carn, not the country," said Aunt Pan. "I never liked how Anoa named them the same thing; it makes it all very confusing."


    "Why do I have to go there?" asked Relma.


    "You have a destiny, Relma," said Aren. "And you''ve got to fulfill it. Unfortunately, Pandora has been a bit slow in getting you ready. Something to do with humility, I imagine."


    "Father, I have seen what pride does to people," said Pan in irritation. "You are only at court for a few hours and then gone. But I''ve had to see the arrogance of kings ruin whole nations."


    "Am I related to a King?" asked Relma.


    Another glance. "...You are of a very important bloodline," said Aren. "But not that of any King of the Harlenorian Kingdoms."


    "I''m related to Anoa the Bright, aren''t I?" asked Relma.


    "What could possibly make you think that?" asked Pan too quickly.


    "Well, I''m a Harlenorian, so I can''t be the daughter of a King from a non-Harlenorian Kingdom," said Relma. "And there is the prophecy that one of King Anoa''s descendants will kill Baltoth. Not to mention the one about the heir of Anoa creating Harlenor Reunited."


    "I never said you were even related to a King," said Pan.


    "Yeah, but you and Aren looked at each other in shock a moment ago," said Relma. "So something I said hit close to the mark."


    Aren laughed. "The girl is much brighter than you gave her credit for, Pan."


    "So I see," said Pan. "Yes, Relma, you are of the bloodline of Anoa the Bright. And that bloodline will one day reunite Harlenor and put an end to Baltoth. But that doesn''t mean you''ll ever be Queen. One of your or your children''s children could take the throne.


    "Prophecies pick their own way of being fulfilled.


    "Now you had better pack your things. We have to get going in the morning."


    "What about Ronald?" asked Aren.


    "Ronald?" asked Pan. "You let him listen."


    Ronald came in quickly. "Is all that really true, Relma? Are you the heir of the Bright King?"


    "I just heard about it," said Relma. "Listen to me, Ronald, you must not tell anyone about this. If you do, Baltoth might find out and try to kill me. And he''ll probably burn down all the villages in the region simultaneously."


    "I think Ronald had best come with us," said Aren.


    "Why do I have to leave?" asked Ronald.


    "Well, you are the son of Lord Fulsof," said Aren. "Or, at any rate, your father is called a lord outside your lands. It will be good for you to go to Gel Carn and train as a knight. And good for relations between the two lands?"


    "Me?" asked Ronald. "A knight of Gel Carn? Like Sir Frederick?"


    "Why not?" laughed Aren. "You''ve been training in fighting. Though I expect you''ll need to put in a lot of work to get anywhere near the most famous knight in Gel Carn."


    "Yes," said Ronald, "but I don''t like fighting."


    "But when you get back, you''ll have all kinds of stories to tell," said Aren. "You''ll probably be the talk of the Farm Dwellings. Of course, we won''t force the matter, but I think it would do you good."


    "But will Father even allow it?" asked Ronald.


    "I''ll have a talk with him," said Pan. "I''m sure he''ll see the potential benefits." Then she looked at Relma. "And you, Relma, have pots to scrub. We''ll need at least a week now. Ronald''s father will want to have time. So you aren''t getting out of your chores that easily."


    "Oh, come on," said Relma. "I''m the Heir of Kings!"


    "That''s no excuse for not finishing your duties," said Pan.


    What was the good of a bloodline if it didn''t get you out of chores?

 Chapter 25 - Three: Waylaid on the Roadside

    Days passed, and, eventually, Aunt Pan got her way. On their departure day, a cloudy gray sky was overhead. As Ronald and Relma packed their things, Relma halted. "Well, this is it?" she said.


    "What is?" asked Ronald.


    "Well, I mean, I''ve always wondered what Gel Carn, the castle, looked like," said Relma. "And now I''m finally getting the chance to see it."


    "Speak for yourself," said Ronald. "I don''t much want to go."


    "Oh, come on, it''ll be an adventure," said Relma.


    "But I won''t be getting back for years and years," said Ronald. "It feels like we barely had time to say goodbye to anyone before they pulled us off into the blue. And I''ll be completely out of place among castle folk."


    "You don''t know that," said Relma. "Aren and Aunt Pan think you''ll do fine."


    "Your Aunt Pan pulled us off because she didn''t trust me not to blab," said Ronald with a sigh. "She doesn''t actually think I''ll manage."


    Relma put a hand on his shoulder. "We''ll both manage Ronald."


    They finished packing and went out to meet Aren. Aunt Pan was nowhere to be found. She''d left the previous night on some business of her own.


    "Hasn''t Aunt Pan gotten back yet?" asked Relma.


    "I''m afraid she''ll have to meet us on the road," said Aren. "Come, we''ll get underway at once."


    They left behind the farm, and Relma gave a final glance back at her old home. Then she turned and walked onward. Yes, she was leaving behind the familiar, but she was going toward the new. That enthusiasm kept her walking. Ronald seemed far more conflicted.


    Something strange began to happen as they walked. Relma realized she didn''t regret leaving at all. Nor had she been looking forward to leaving. She hadn''t been excited or sad. It was a bit strange.


    Relma had always known she wasn''t like other people. She didn''t see things the same way. Leaving everything she''d known behind her was just... mundane somehow. As if she''d always known she''d leave the place behind and hadn''t gotten attached.


    She wondered if she''d ever think of it again.


    Then a question occurred to her. She approached Aren. "Aren, can I ask you something?"


    "Yes, of course, dear girl," said Aren.


    "What was Anoa the Bright like?" asked Relma.


    Aren considered it. "Magnificent. But also pitiful."


    Relma blinked. That didn''t sound at all like the Anoa she''d met. "What do you mean?"


    "How shall I put this?" asked Aren, looking at the sky. "Some men become great because they succeed in performing great deeds. Others become great because they are given no choice but to achieve them. Anoa was a bit of both.


    "He didn''t want to be a King, but he did his best. And he did an excellent job for a while. He united all the feuding chieftains and established Harlenor United. The trouble was that bad things just kept happening to him. Finally, toward the end of his reign, he started to fall to pieces.


    "It was a mercy; it ended there, actually."


    "When he ascended into heaven, you mean?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said Aren.


    Aren had been there. From the way Aren said that, though, Relma wondered if that was what really happened. His gaze had gone distant, and his expression dark.


    "What''s wrong?"


    "His reign didn''t end very happily," said Aren. "The beginnings of Harlenor are a sad story for many reasons. However, it was after Anoa the Bright that the golden age began. He laid the foundations on which his descendants built your legacy.


    "Where is your aunt? She should have been here by now?"


    At that moment, a snowy white owl landed on the road before them. It suddenly changed shape and shifted into the form of Aunt Pan.


    "I''m here, Father," said Pan.


    "Pandora, what took you so long?" asked Aren.


    "I had to say a few goodbyes in the village. And get a few things for the journey," said Pan. "Come, we''d best move quickly."


    So they walked. For the whole day, they walked under the trees, and as they did, Relma once again wondered why it didn''t excite her. Several times they passed travelers on the road. Finally, the sky began to go dark above them. Aunt Pan came and went as an owl several times throughout this period.


    Eventually, Aren halted in a clearing when the light started to die. "We''ll stop here for the night. But, Relma, I think I had best start teaching you to read. Ronald, you may as well learn too if you don''t know already."


    "I already know my letters," said Ronald. "Father taught me."


    "Well, then you can help Relma learn hers," said Aren. "I don''t know what your aunt was thinking."


    "Is she really my aunt?" asked Relma.


    "In a very indirect fashion, yes," said Aren. "Another daughter of mine married one of Anoa the Bright''s descendants. One of the benefits of immortality is that you have the chance to see how things turn out. Usually, long after, the ones'' who set things in motion have moved on."


    "Moved on?" asked Relma.


    "Yes. Reincarnation happens," said Aren. "People die and come back in one form or another, and I often meet them again. For example, I meet my daughter every so often and see how she is doing. Though she usually doesn''t remember me."


    "How did you become immortal?" asked Ronald.


    "It was a gift bestowed on my daughter and me by Elranor in return for extended service. We were permitted to drink of the Grail of Immortality," said Aren. "That story is also very long; you won''t hear it from me tonight. Now let''s begin."


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    Learning to read was as dull as it sounded. Aren brought out books, and Relma had to memorize things. Letters and concepts like sentences and such. It was incredibly tedious, and Ronald was of little help.


    As it turned out, Aren wasn''t a very good teacher, and he seemed to know it.


    "I think we''d better leave the rest to your Aunt," he said. "I''ve never been good at teaching this sort of thing. Teaching magic is easy. You just instruct someone on the basics and let them build themselves up with practice.


    "Reading and writing are more difficult. And I hate the New Harlenorian language."


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "Because it is obscenely overcomplicated," said Aren. "As much as I hate Baltoth, he understands good sense. The written languages he created are simple, with each letter used for a single sound.


    "You''d never catch Calishans using three separate letter combinations for one sound."


    "Why is New Harlenorian so complicated?" asked Relma.


    "Because it isn''t a single language," said Aren. "It''s a misshapen mass sewn together from the corpses of older, better languages. Then resurrected with dark magic. It''s got elements of Elvish, Dwarvish, Old Harlenorian, Giant, and others. I''ve never been able to grasp it fully, to be honest. Tuor always was..." He trailed off.


    "Who was Tuor?" asked Relma.


    "An old apprentice of mine," said Gail. "He was far too orderly for his own good. It led him down a dark path."


    Tuor was the one who killed her parents. But Relma couldn''t ask directly about that. Not without revealing she''d met Anoa.


    "What path?" asked Ronald.


    "He had no appreciation for freedom," said Gail. "He came to regard the Harlenorian Nations with contempt. Then, rather than wait for Harlenor Reunited, he decided to take matters into his own hands.


    "He joined with Baltoth. And did many unforgivable things in his service."


    Relma nodded.


    Then suddenly, figures came out of the woods. They were tall and burly men wearing furs, and they carried weapons. Gail arose in a moment and threw back his cloak. As he did so, they halted.


    "Step aside, old man," said one of the men.


    "I think not," said Gail. "Who are you, and where do you come from?"


    "You don''t need to know that." said the man, brandishing his weapon. "You need to know that we''re taking the girl with us."


    "You might want to reconsider this, good sir," said Gail. "I''m in no mood to humor thugs."


    "And I''m in no mood to humor idiots," said the thug. "Take ''em!"


    He ran forward and swung his axe. At that moment, Ronald rushed forward, holding a short blade in his hand. "Aren!"


    "Ronald, get back, you fool!" cried Aren.


    The sword was knocked from Ronald''s hand in a moment, and he was thrown down. The thugs came forward toward them. Gail raised a hand, and green light blazed within his palm.


    And then, from around the road, there came an unruly howling. A halfling upon a massive wolf came riding. He wore heavy armor that covered his whole body, and a lance was in his hand.


    "Gel Carn! Gel Carn!" he roared.


    "Leg it, it''s Frederick." cried a bandit.


    They scattered and made a run for it. One of them was too slow, and he got the lance to the back. It pierced through him and was driven through his body. Frederick halted his charge and drew out the lance as the rest of them left.


    "Sir Frederick, your timing is impeccable," said Gail.


    "I had words of bandits taking to the roads," said Frederick, dismounting from his wolf. "I came to hunt them down. Though I did not think to complete my other mission so quickly."


    "What mission?" asked Gail.


    "I bear a message from the Steward Benarus," said Frederick. He wishes to speak with you immediately, having heard you have arrived in Gel Carn."


    "What about?" asked Gail.


    "The wolf demon Telix has entered the forests near us," said Frederick. "He and his brood have been devouring the flocks of the shepherds and making off with young maidens. Worse still, they''ve allied with the black dragon Wrynncurth."


    Gail sighed. "Telix again? I knew he had changed his haunts. I did not know he was coming here."


    "Who is Telix?" asked Relma.


    "The result of Baltoth''s union with a wolf spirit. One made while passing through Seathorius," said Gail. "He stealth wanders from forest to forest and steals the shepherds'' flocks. I''ve been meaning to put an end to him for some years, but he always slips away."


    "Still, why would he ally with Wrynncurth?" asked Relma. "I thought the black dragons were ancient friends of Harlenor."


    "Sometimes," said Aren, "but things have changed since the old stories. Still, we''ll get there in our own good time. Return to Benarus and tell him we are on our way and will be there soon."


    "But time is pressing," said Frederick.


    "Time is not nearly so pressing as most people think," said Gail.


    At this moment, Aunt Pan got back. "Don''t show your age, Father. Of course, we''ll come at once. Relma, Ronald, pack up the camp. We''ll make our way there at once."


    "My thanks, Lady Pandora," said Frederick. "However, I cannot lead you there. I am needed in Gel Carn. My liege may need my sword soon."


    "And I am certain it shall be put to valiant use, Sir Frederick," said Pandora.


    Then Frederick looked to Ronald. "You, what is your name, lad?" S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''m Ronald. Son of Fulsof," said Ronald, looking awkward. "You''re Sir Frederick?"


    "I am," said Frederick. "You have a stout heart. But you should be less eager to bare it to the knives of your enemies until you are older." Then he mounted his wolf and rode away.


    Aren glared daggers at Aunt Pan. "Why must you rush me, Pandora?"


    "People''s lives are on the line Father," said Pan.


    "The ones who die will be reincarnated soon enough," said Aren with a shrug. "A few will go the heaven, a few will go to hell. You can''t afford to run yourself ragged over a few lost sheep, Pan."


    "A few lost sheep can make all the difference, Father," said Pan. "And what kind of example are you setting right now?"


    Aren sighed. "Fair enough. Where have you been?"


    "Scouting," said Pandora. "The taint we sensed in the forest has slipped away."


    "Past you?" asked Aren. "Age must be catching up with you, my dear."


    "It is not," said Pandora. "Whoever it was has been stalking around for some time. I''m not sure how long."


    "I remember we felt like someone was watching us," said Relma. "Back when we were going fishing. When I fell into the river."


    "Why didn''t you say something?" asked Pan.


    "We thought we had imagined it," said Relma. "And with almost drowning it didn''t seem important." And meeting Anoa.


    "Well," said Pandora, "we cannot do anything about it now. Let us hope that they did not see anything that interested them. Now get to work."


    They set out soon after. Relma had time to consider things. Other people didn''t feel pain when they tried to lie. But Relma did. She''d always needed to understand why. And what was all this about someone watching her.


    If they had been watching her, then could they have seen Anoa?


    But surely Anoa the Bright would have sensed them and done something about it. Or, at the very least, not been so obvious about the truth. But, then again, it took her time to puzzle things out. And she wasn''t like other people.


    Maybe his hints had been genuinely subtle, and she was just brilliant. Or possibly everyone else was just stupid. That was a somewhat mean thought.


    Then Relma considered that intelligence really was relative. A genius among ants would be far less intelligent than a simpleton among humans. So it could actually be both. And neither. "Why didn''t you want to go right away, Aren?" asked Ronald suddenly.


    "I don''t like Kings thinking that I am at their beck and call," said Aren. "It does well to remind them I don''t exist to solve their petty differences. Of course, I do my best, but they have to sort out some things for themselves at the end of the day. I''m just here to keep things on the right path. What they do on the path is their own business.


    "Your aunt has always had the opposite viewpoint. She felt we should intervene in every little thing. Which I why I gave her the task of raising Relma."


    "But people could die," said Ronald.


    "And it''s unfortunate," said Aren. "The truth, however, is that sometimes you must let a bad thing happen. That way, the person it happens to learns to fix their problems. If I sheltered them from everything bad that happened, they would grow dependent on me. And anyway, that isn''t in my power to do."


    "Would you be saying that if it was my home getting raided by wolf demons?" asked Ronald.


    "Excellent point, Ronald," said Pandora.


    "I would probably act," admitted Aren. "Relma has an important destiny, and her getting killed would be disastrous for the world. Also, I''m something of a hypocrite.


    "The sad fact is that not everyone is a hero of legend. Some people are born to be great. Others simply live and play one or two parts in the great story of history. You have to learn to prioritize these things, my boy."


    "And what if we don''t want to play one or two parts?" asked Ronald. "What if we want to be heroes?"


    "Well, there are some who manage to become great by determination and grit," said Gail. "But by and large most people are chosen for one thing or another. Fighting against it just makes everyone worse off."


    "Don''t listen to Father," said Pandora. "He''s just set in his ways. He is ancient, you know."


    "Of course I am," said Gail. "And with age comes great wisdom."


    "Does it? I hadn''t noticed any in you," said Pandora.


    "Fine words from the one whose messes we''re walking to clean up, daughter," replied Aren.


    Relma decided that she liked this life better than the other one.

 Chapter 26 - Four: The Steward of Gel Carn

    Several times, Ronald complained about the long march. He wasn''t used to this, and neither was Relma. But Relma didn''t feel like complaining.


    The odd thing was that Relma was tired. Her feet hurt from the constant march, and her mouth was dry. But she wasn''t weary in her mind. She judged that she could keep going like this for a long time. Her feet hurt. But she didn''t mind her feet hurting. Relma had never been like other people. She wasn''t sure how to feel about the fact. So she thought about things.


    And at last, they came out of the woods and saw the castle.


    It took Relma''s breath away.


    Gel Carn had been built into the side of the black mountain, but it was made from white stone. The walls were massive, perhaps thirty feet high. It had thirteen spires, all of the different heights. The rightmost one was the shortest, and they got taller as you looked further left. The tallest of them was on the keep and reached so high that it was taller than the knees of the Black Mountain.


    The roofs of the castle glittered in the sun. Was the surface coated in gems? It looked like the road leading up to the gate was cobbled with them. Yet that couldn''t be. They must have been colorful stones or magic or something to that effect.


    "At last, Gel Carn," said Aren.


    "It''s beautiful," said Relma.


    She didn''t feel detached from this. In fact, it was almost familiar. Like Relma was returning to a home she''d never been in. But which had a part of her within it.


    "Once, it was the greatest castle in all of Harlenor," said Aren. "Anoa the Bright''s capital. But those days are long past."


    "You mean it used to be even better?" asked Ronald.


    "No," said Aren. "It is one of the few things in this world that hasn''t changed. Even so, stonework and city building have come a long way since. It looks wonderful, and there are potent spells on it. But Brisgald in the northwest of Antion is the more remarkable fortification. Still, there is something to be said about history.


    "This castle has seen many long years. And it will see many more to come."


    "I have never much liked the place," said Aunt Pan. "It reminds me too much of Anoa."


    "Isn''t that a good thing?" asked Ronald.


    "No," said Aunt Pan. "Anoa the Bright and I never got on very well. He was a competent administrator and a great war leader. But he was reckless and bloodthirsty."


    "You only saw him toward the end of his reign, Pan," said Aren. "And anyway, you always were a sap for Orsen and Gwendoven."


    "Who are they?" asked Ronald.


    "Orsen was the greatest knight of Harlenor," said Aunt Pan. "And Gwendoven was Anoa''s Queen. They were both very kind to me when I was a girl. Then Anoa had them both butchered."


    "Why would he do that?" asked Relma.


    "Because they betrayed him. Orsen started it," said Aren.


    "There is no excusing what Anoa did, Father," said Pan.


    "He might have overreacted," admitted Aren. "But it was Orsen who drove the country into civil war. He created the situation. The situation would have been resolved if he''d just let Anoa burn Gwendoven at the stake."


    "He loved her," said Pan.


    "He loved another man''s wife," shot back Aren. "Now quiet, we''re near the gates."


    As it turned out, it really was magic. As you drew near the cobblestones, they became steadily less glamorous. It must have been some spell. Even so, the walls only became more imposing. Soon, they came before the gates.


    A postern opened, and a footman emerged to meet them. "Hail, Gail Arengeth, the sorcerer of sorcerers. I am to escort you to the Steward at once."


    "Hello to you too, Davian," said Aren. "I see you remain as formal as your grandfather."


    "But I address you only as you are bidden, you the noblest and greatest of Elranor''s servants," said Davian with a grin.


    "I don''t know about noblest," laughed Aren. "Lead on."


    "I shall. As soon as you and your companions have bathed and dressed," said Davian. "It would be unseemly for one of your noble blood to appear in such unbefitting rags."


    "My, you do have an interesting definition of ''at once.''" said Aunt Pan.


    "I know not of what you speak," said Davian. "I am merely performing my duties. Follow me."


    Relma looked to Aren. "Is he being sarcastic?"


    "I''m not really sure," admitted Aren. "I''ve never been able to read Davian. Or any of his family for that matter."


    They were led into side rooms, dressed in far finer outfits than any they had worn. Well, Aren and Aunt Pan had probably worn finer in the thousands of years they had been alive. And Ronald was a Lord''s son, so he had dressed in a similar quality.


    So it was really only Relma who was wearing something she hadn''t. Though halfling fashion was much less ornate and more practical.


    She now wore a flowing white dress that seemed as if it had been designed to fit her. Servants helped her get it on, and when she emerged, she was very pretty. "How do I look, Ronald?" she asked.


    "Like a princess, if you want to know," said Ronald, looking at his reddish doublet. "I hate this sort of outfit. Give me a traditional waistcoat any day."


    "I think it''s nice," said Relma.


    "That''s because it''s a novelty to you," said Ronald. "Wear this sort of thing a few more times, and you''ll be sick of it."


    "Well, don''t kill the moment for me now," said Relma.


    Aren emerged then. He was clad in flowing blue robes. His beard had been combed, and he wore a red hood. He looked very sorcerous. However, his expression was irritated. "Well, I''m glad you finished in less than three hours," said Aren, stalking up to them. "Pan seems to be taking her sweet time, as usual. I am pleased to see that you are more timely than her."


    Aunt Pan came in. She looked absolutely stunning, dressed in a flowing black dress. Her hair was tied up behind her head, and she looked regal. "I''m here, Father. You need not drive yourself to an early grave."


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    "The way things are going, it can''t be early enough," said Aren. "Come, let''s go see what Benarus has to say. Is that acceptable, Davian?"


    "But, of course," said Davian. When had he gotten here?


    Then he led them through several more halls and into a grand throne room. The ceiling here was very high, and statues of ancient kings of Harlenor United stood tall on either side. There were several empty alcoves, however.


    At the far end was a throne upon a dais. Above the throne was a brilliant, shining white gem. But no one was seated in it. Instead, at the base of the throne was a simple black chair. Sitting in it was a balding black-haired man whose hands were clasped together. He looked at the ceiling as if contemplating the stars painted upon it.


    Davian coughed, and the man shook as if startled, then looked up.


    "My Lord Benarus," said Davian, "I present Gail Arengeth and his daughter Pandora to you. They are among the most well-documented of heroes. And some company of smaller note." He glanced at Ronald and Relma.


    "Very well, Davian. I will see them alone," said Benarus.


    "Excellent," said Davian. "Shall I order the guards to withdraw as well?"


    Guards? What guards? Relma looked around and saw no one.


    "Yes. That is what I meant by alone," said Benarus.


    "As you will," said Davian.


    Then he departed. There was a shifting of sorts in the room. But Relma still didn''t see anyone. Yet something must have left because Benarus watched it go.


    "...I hate that man," said Benarus finally. "No matter, Arengeth, I didn''t call you here because I wanted you to devise a solution. So you need not be concerned."


    "Really?" asked Aren. "Well, that is a refreshing change of place. What exactly did you desire my presence?"


    "I need your help with negotiations with Telix," said Benarus.


    "Negotiations?" asked Aren. "I am not in the mood for jests, Benarus."


    "I''m not making one," said Benarus. "The situation was never meant to get this far, but things got out of control."


    "How so?" asked Aren.


    Benarus opened his mouth. Then he shut it. Finally, he looked back to the ceiling and took a deep breath. "Very well, I''ll begin at the beginning. Some months ago, Adrian Wrynncurth contacted me. He informed me that he was yielding his domain in the Forest of Claws to the wolf demon Telix."


    "And you didn''t stop him?" asked Aren.


    "I thought it a foolish decision and argued against it," said Benarus. "However, Wrynncurth often consults Duke Vanion Gabriel. They exchange letters regularly. Something to do with his previous lives, I think."


    "Wait, why would Wrynncurth give Telix his holdings?" asked Relma.


    She realized suddenly that she had spoken out of turn. But to her surprise, Benarus glanced at her in tired amusement. "His daughter and her clan of dragons were moving to different parts. That left the forest unguarded, and it wasn''t long before gangs of bandits began to set up shop there. It was a nightmare putting them down. Wrynncurth wrote to Vanion for suggestions. Vanion suggested that he offer the forest to Telix in exchange for his fealty."


    "Well, that is the usual sort of Vanion move," said Aren.


    "Fealty from a son of Baltoth cannot be counted on," said Aunt Pan. "The will of the Dark God courses through all his children. But, please go on; I want to hear how Vanion managed to make things worse while keeping his hands clean."


    "Actually, things went splendidly at first," said Benarus. "The wolves stayed out of human lands, and Telix''s brood kept their hands off our flocks. But, of course, the first warning sign was when he didn''t destroy the bandits. Instead, he organized them and forced them to serve him directly.


    "Still better than my brother, Cervan, though. May he burn eternally in hell."


    "Let us not get into Cervan. I assume Telix broke the truce," guessed Aren.


    "Not directly, no," said Benarus. "Wrynncurth did that. One of the younger black dragons came down from the hills in a rage and attacked a village. He killed many villagers and devoured many cattle.


    "Fortunately, Argath and his protege, Tanith, were there. Apparently, they killed the beast."


    "Strange behavior," mused Aren. "Black dragons are usually more contemplative and less reckless than their brighter counterparts. What happened next?"


    "As soon as that happened, Telix''s brood launched a series of raids on the livestock," said Benarus. "There was a skirmish, and both sides took losses.


    "There are also tales of women being kidnapped and taken into the forests. We don''t know why. Fortunately, they are all commoners, so we haven''t had any irreplaceable losses."


    "I see," said Aren. "It seems obvious that Telix is using the situation Wrynncurth created to start a war. The usual sort of Calishan opportunism."


    "That was my thought as well," said Benarus. "The problem is that Telix is allied with Wrynncurth, and he maintains that we started it. So if I try to deal with Telix directly, I''ll end up attracting the wrath of Wrynncurth. He''s already furious about the death of his child.


    "Everyone I''ve sent up to try and speak with him has been driven back down the mountain. If things go on like this, I must have a war. I don''t want to fight Wrynncurth or Telix, let alone both at once."


    "Yes, yes, I see why you called me," said Aren. "This is one of those situations where you need an outsider to step in. Very well, I''ll see to it. But I want you to do something for me in return."


    "Name it," said Benarus.


    "I''d like you to take these two under your wing," said Aren. "The girl is Relma, and I want her trained as a knight. However, I also desire her to teach reading and writing. As well as other things administrators need to know."


    Benarus looked at Relma keenly. "Is this her?"


    "Yes," said Aren. "She already figured it out. The other is Ronald, and I want him taught as a knight."


    "Very well, Lord Arengeth," said Benarus. "We have an accord. I will see to it that they are taught well."


    "Excellent," said Aren. "I''ll set out first thing in the morning. Pan, you''ll come with me."


    "I think I should meet with Telix," said Pan. "I wouldn''t have much to add to the discussion anyway."


    "Are you sure?" asked Aren. "Telix is dangerous."


    "Quite. Son of Baltoth or not, Telix is a part of these negotiations, and I want to get a sense of what he wants," said Pandora. "Once we know his objectives, we''ll better know how to deal with him."


    "I suppose it must be done," muttered Aren. "It has been a long road for now, and I''d like to retire."


    "Of course," said Benarus. "Rooms have been prepared for your arrival."


    "My thanks," said Aren with a smile. "Assuming no one takes any more good advice from Duke Vanion, we may avoid more disaster."


    They were led away to luxurious rooms with soft sheets and pillows. But Relma was curious. Aren had mentioned this Duke Vanion before. "Aren, who is this Duke Vanion you always seem to curse."


    "A man with a silver tongue and ambitions as high as the stars," said Aren, who had started to carve a block of wood with a knife. "What he lacks is the character or skill for either. He''s one of those lords who appear now and then. They think they will reunite with Harlenor and become mighty kings of legend.


    "I''ve disliked him ever since we first met. And it''s only gotten worse since."


    "How did you meet?" asked Relma.


    Aren sighed. "It was after the First Battle of Desora that I met the real him. I''d gone to great trouble to rally the three Harlenorian Kingdoms. All our might was converging on Artarq to counter the Calishan armies.


    "Unfortunately, Vanion had other ideas. He defeated them in one battle and had tea and biscuits with the Calishan King. Then he proclaimed him a worthy opponent and convinced him to go home."


    "Isn''t that a good thing?" asked Relma.


    Aren looked up in surprise. "It could have been a decisive battle to set Baltoth back by years and years," he said. "The advantage was ours. Do you know how hard it is to get all three kingdoms to work together for even one battle? But Vanion ruined that to take all the credit for himself."


    "Father, that battle could have also been a horrible defeat," said Pan. "If things had gone badly, we could be fighting off an invasion from Baltoth. So the decision was the safest one."


    "Anoa and I didn''t forge Harlenor by playing it safe, Pan," said Aren. "There has been all too much thought of safety. It is safer to stay at home than hunt a wolf who attacks your flock. But that doesn''t make it the right decision.


    "I remember when I met with him. It had been raining, and he was drinking with his officers. Raynald De Chevlon was among them, oddly enough. When I arrived with Argath Marn and met with him, he was very courteous. There wasn''t a harsh word to be said to us, like a snake.


    "You could tell he was always turning every situation around in his mind, trying to find all the angles. That is why I suggested King Andoa find someone else when the matter of who should run Artarq came up. He sold the position to Argath instead and filled up the treasury. We were nearly bankrupt, so it averted a major crisis.


    "So it all worked out."


    "But he is the Governor of Artarq now," noted Relma. "I remember you said so." Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, Vanion didn''t take it well," said Aren. "He made a pact with a demon and used it to expose a conspiracy. One was made by a man called Duke Borinius, who was an ally of House Marn. It discredited Argath by association. Then, rather than conceal it, he feigned repentance and sought pardon from King Andoa.


    "King Andoa supplied it and gave Brisgald to House Gabriel, and it was given to Arthur Gabriel. He is a good man but loyal to his family, and so is our antagonist. Later, Vanion managed to get his hands on Artarq. And now it has passed to him. Andoa always was far too nice for his own good."


    "How do you know he feigned repentance?" asked Relma.


    "Everything about the man is feigned," said Aren. "It''s why I don''t like him."


    "What do you think about him, Aunt Pan?" asked Relma.


    "I haven''t met him in truth," admitted Pan. "Father and I don''t usually stick around the same place for long, and I was busy in Escor then. Vampires and werewolves and all that." She paused. "Now, I think we should get to your lessons."


    Relma was hoping things would be more exciting than this.

 Chapter 27 - Five: Initiation

    The day after, Aren and Aunt Pan left on their respective errands. Ronald and Relma were brought before their new instructor. He was a very tall and thin dwarf, which meant he was stockier than either of them, though he was shorter than Relma. His hair was white, but he had only a few wrinkles. His eyes were gray, and a sword of simple but sturdy make at his side that looked used a lot.


    He eyed her carefully. "You are Relma, then?"


    "Yes, Sir Argath. That is my name," said Relma.


    "I knew your father," said Argath.


    Relma blinked. "You did?"


    "Yes," said Argath. "Hadleim and I were soldiers together in the campaigns against the satyrs. It was in the Black Marshes to the east. We fought many battles in the Black Watch. He was a good man, but we never got on well."


    "May I ask why?" asked Relma.


    Argath shrugged and adjusted his sword. "We had different views on how things should be. The usual sort of nonsense young men get up to. I rather wish we''d put those quarrels aside, though. I''m old now."


    "You aren''t that old," said Relma.


    "Age is in the mind," said Argath. "I was raised by humans, so while I''m in my prime as a dwarf, I think of myself as old. Unfortunate, but the truth." He turned his gaze to Ronald. "You are Ronald, the youngest son of Fulsof, then?"


    "Yes, sir," said Ronald. "I want to become a knight, like Sir Frederick."


    "I don''t think you do." mused Argath. "But Arengeth has his own designs for you, so you must. How much training have the two of you had?"


    "I''ve had instruction in using arms in the Sheriff''s militia," said Ronald. "So has Relma, though the weapons there were always small for her."


    "Ah, very well," said Argath before pulling a shield off a weapon rack and tossing it to Relma. "Relma, I want you to take this shield and try to defend me as best you can."


    "What-" began Relma as she slipped on the shield.


    Then Argath came at her. One of his blows struck her shield and nearly knocked her flat. Again and again, he struck at her, and she could hardly keep on her feet. Finally, he stopped.


    "Well, that is a problem," said Argath.


    "What is it?" asked Relma.


    "Well, you were taught by halflings. Being much smaller than us, halflings have a different way of fighting," said Argath. "You''ll have to adapt your fighting style a bit. There needs to be more focus on standing firm and more on yielding and recovering. You will only do good trying to overpower your enemy by strength alone. Not with your build; you are no berserker like Tanith.


    "I had a similar problem when training to be a knight. My build was thin for my race, so I needed more staying power. As a result, I learned to be more aggressive. Haldrenian Berserkang is a formidable technique if you have the rage for it.


    "But only if you have the rage.


    "Give the shield to your friend." Relma obeyed. "Ronald, same test."


    Ronald faired far better. He was able to keep his stance properly beneath Argath''s powerful blows. Finally, the white-haired dwarf stopped and sheathed his blade.


    "Well, you''ve done better," he said. "That''s to be expected, though. But, still, we only have a few halflings here besides Sir Frederick, and he''s gone away on campaign. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Now, for now, you are Steward Benarus''s guest. However, it is best if you room with the other trainees. I will make arrangements for you to be moved to the dormitories."


    "Must we?" asked Ronald.


    "Of course," said Argath. "You''ll have to face them sooner or later. Better sooner. Wait here, and I''ll return."


    And he left. They waited there for a while, unsure of what to do. Eventually, Argath returned. With him was a tall, black-haired girl a little older than Relma. She wore brown leather and had a confident air to her.


    "Relma, Ronald, this is Estela Vortegex of Escor," said Argath. "I''ve asked her to get you both settled."


    "Vortegex?" asked Relma, remembering the name. "Are you a Princess?"


    "If we have to be technical, yes," said Estela. "The youngest daughter. Sent to make my way in the world and all that nonsense. Come on, I''ll show you the way."


    Estela led them through the halls. As they walked, she explained things. "First of all, you should know that we have a system here. Older squires are waited on by younger ones. Usually, in the mornings, they have to bring water for baths and other such nonsense.


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    "You''ll probably be expected to do the same."


    "Why is that?" asked Ronald.


    Estela shrugged. "How should I know? I''ve never filled a tub in my life."


    "Why not?" asked Relma.


    "Well, the last time someone of equal rank tried to command me to do anything, I refused. He tried to thrash me but wasn''t nearly good enough for that," said Estela. "So he got together with three others and beat me down. I spent hours at the healer.


    "As soon as I was ready, I ambushed him later and paid him back in kind. Then I found the ones who helped him and did the same for them. Then he got together with some more of his friends. But I convinced some other squires to help me, and there was a huge fight."


    "And the Steward was alright with this?" asked Relma.


    "No, of course not. I got a thrashing and went without anything but the most basic food for a week. And was confined to my quarters," said Estela with a smile. "But it was worth it. After that, everyone feared me, and when people fear you, they don''t try to mess with you."


    "That doesn''t seem a good way to gain respect," mused Relma.


    "The Vortegex''s have had to fight for our throne for decades. Ever since we beat the Gabriels and got rid of those blood-drinking De Chevlons," said Estela. "Though I hear they''ve made common cause of late.


    "Did you know Argath trained Raynald De Chevlon? He says Raynald is even better at fighting than he is. Though I''m not sure, I believe it."


    "I didn''t know that," said Relma. "How good is Raynald?"


    "Some say even Anoa wouldn''t be a match for him," said Estela. "Though I''ll believe that when I see it. He killed sixteen trained nobles in two hours. Many of them were experienced members of the Fighters Guild of Antion.


    "That was just how he signed a letter of resignation. He''s incredible-


    "I mean, he''s a bloodthirsty brute. Everything in House De Chevlon we had to get rid of in Escor. You keep bickering and treacherous nobles in line through fear."


    "What about love?" asked Relma.


    "Eh, love never stopped anyone from hurting anyone else. Just look at Gwendoven, Orson and Anoa," said Estela. "Supposedly, they had great love, and Anoa killed the other two.


    "No, scaring people into obeying you is the way to go."


    "Yes, but history is filled with people who conquered their fears," said Relma. "You''ve got to give people some other reason to support you, or you''ll just paint a target on your back."


    "That''s where hostages come in," said Estela. "I think I like both of you. Neither of you will have to draw any water on my watch."


    "Thank you, but I think I''ll do the drawing all the same," said Relma. "I don''t want the others to think I believe myself above them."


    "I think I''d best go with Relma," said Ronald.


    At that moment, someone came around the corner. She was a lanky girl with blonde hair. She wore two swords on either side of her belt. She held two buckets in both hands, which she threw at them.


    Relma caught hers, while Ronald was hit in the face and landed hard.


    "You," said the girl, looking at them with bloodshot eyes, "you''re the idiots who come to train as squires, aren''t you? The ones those charlatans pulled strings for."


    "Aunt Pan and Aren are not charlatans-" began Relma.


    "Yes, you''re very naive; shut up," said the girl. "I''m Tanith Telus. I''ve killed dozens of Calishans. I''ve had my way with their women and put their children on stakes while their flaming villages burned. Take these buckets to the river and bring the water back."


    "Feel like practicing what you preach?" asked Estela.


    Relma hesitated. "Are you another squire?"


    "No," scoffed Tanith. "I''m a knight of Estal. Now go."


    Relma bowed quickly. "Of course."


    And that was how their tour was abruptly interrupted by them having to run out to the river. It took them out of their way, and carrying the buckets was difficult, to say the least. As they lugged them onward, Ronald gripped the buckets.


    "Relma, why did you have to make us go through this?" he asked. "This is a nightmare."


    "Because getting special privileges makes other people jealous of you. When someone is jealous, it is much harder to gain their trust," said Relma. "We want to fit in, Ronald, not make a big show of how much better we are."


    "Whatever you say," said Ronald. "But that Tanith girl didn''t even tell us where to bring the water."


    "She was probably just taking advantage of us," said Relma. "Messing with the new meat."


    "Then why did you agree?" asked Ronald.


    "Because if you stand up to someone stronger than you, things only get worse," said Relma. "There is a time and a place for all these things." Then she hesitated. In the distance, she saw a large group of armored men making for the black mountain.


    "What is it, Relma?" asked Ronald.


    Relma put down her water and rushed to them. "Wait, wait!"


    They looked up. "What is it, lass?"


    "You are heading to the Black Mountain," said Relma. "That''s black dragon territory."


    "We have no interest in dragons. I am Sir Edward De Cathe," said the man. "I seek to draw Lightning Trail in the skies above."


    "Lightning Trail?" asked Relma.


    "I''m surprised you have not heard the tale," said Edward. "It is said that Lightning Trail, the sword of Elranor, has been driven into the skies. He that reaches the peak of the Black Mountain and draws the blade from the sky will rule Harlenor Reunited."


    "I know the story," said Relma. "Nobody has ever been able to draw Lightning Trail."


    "There''s always a first time. And I have performed more than my share of great deeds," said Edward.


    "I don''t think it works that way," said Relma. "Or does it? Look, couldn''t you delay your trip by a week or so? We''re on the verge of war with Telix and Wrynncurth. If it comes to it, you could do a few more great deeds before making the journey. And it will probably be a lot safer when you make it then."


    Edward hesitated. "...We have traveled for many months. I suppose I could wait a few days more. What is your name?"


    "Relma Artorious," said Relma. "I''m a squire in the Stewards castle."


    "My thanks for the advice," said Edward. "I shall do something about the woes of this land, and when it is liberated, I shall achieve my destiny."


    "Very kind of you, sir," said Relma. "If you''ll excuse me, I must return to work."


    When they got back to the gate, Tanith was waiting. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. "You''re late. Care to explain yourself."


    "I''m sorry," said Relma. "A group of knights was about to charge off up the Black Mountain. I had to talk them out of it. If I hadn''t, they''d have been devoured for sure."


    "...Hmm, as excuses go, I''ve heard better," said Tanith. Then she grabbed both buckets and poured them into the ground. She did the same for Ronald. "Anyway, enjoy your stay."


    Then she walked off.


    "It took us a long time to get all that water," said Ronald, "and she just poured it all over the ground. What a vicious-" He cut off what he was about to say. "As if she''s any better than us!"


    "Let it pass, Ronald," said Relma.


    Estela came back. "Oh, I should mention that Tanith enjoys tormenting the servants. And even if you accepted my offer, I couldn''t do anything about it.


    "If she told me to move water, I''d do it. Now, should we continue the tour?"


    "I''d appreciate that," said Relma.


    Some people were just unpleasant.

 Chapter 28 - Six: Taken

    After her somewhat lousy start, things got worse for Relma. It was nice to practice with swords and shields. It certainly was better scullery work and odd jobs. But Relma soon learned it didn''t catch her interest as hoped. Argath Marn was a hard trainer and kept them drilling constantly.


    Relma found she was learning a great deal from him rapidly. Her skill with a spear increased a great deal. And she learned the basics of wielding a sword quickly. But quick or not, there was always more to learn. And Argath was always pressing her to learn it.


    Tanith made it worse. Not because Relma had been chosen for her ire. But because the blonde girl was enormously creative.


    As it turned out, Tanith was perhaps the most hated person in the castle. Or at least among the servants. What Relma saw of the knights told her that she was well-liked by them. She saw Tanith and the others drinking in the mead halls and telling stories of her exploits. Tanith''s had apparently been bloody, and Relma wondered if they were true. She hoped not.


    Unfortunately, Tanith''s entertainments were more than just drinking and tale-telling. The girl took delight in forcing people who were lower ranked than her to do all kinds of pointless chores.


    "I don''t understand why the Steward tolerates her," said Relma.


    "She was brought here by Lord Argath Marn," said Estela. "Apparently, they both fought together in the same campaign."


    "But why doesn''t he reign her in?" asked Relma. "Or why doesn''t the Steward have her leave?"


    "Tanith is a good swordsman," said Estela.


    "That''s it?" asked Relma.


    "An excellent swordsman," said Estela. "One of the best. She''s a valuable addition to the guard. And she mostly focuses on people who are beneath notice. She can get away with things as long as she doesn''t hurt anyone."


    "Where did she come from anyway?" asked Relma. "And why does she think Aren and Aunt Pan are charlatans?"


    "She was raised in Carn Gable, actually," said Estela. "The household of Duke Vanion. Personal friends with his son, apparently."


    "So what''s she doing all the way down here?" asked Relma.


    "She came here with Lord Marn," said Estela.


    "That reminds me," said Relma, "what is Marn doing all the way down here in the south? He was ruling Artarq once, wasn''t he?"


    "He was," said Estela. "But Duke Vanion revealed a conspiracy against King Andoa II by Duke Borinius. Marn was personal friends with Borinius, and he was discredited by association.


    "He lost his status as governor and has had to make his living as a mercenary since. Steward Benarus hired him to train his soldiers a few years ago."


    "But Marn said he fought alongside my father in the Black Marsh campaign," said Relma.


    "You''ll have to ask him," said Estela. "That was a long time ago. Younger sons usually go adventuring to fight in faraway places. I doubt Marn is the exception, even if he is adopted."


    "In any case," said Relma, "if Marn and Vanion hate each other so much, why did he take a beast like Tanith under his wing?"


    "Tanith is the favorite student of Raynald De Chevlon," said Estela. "The swordmaster of Carn Gable. Raynald and Marn are on good terms thanks to fighting together in several campaigns.


    "It''s probably for Raynald''s sake."


    "This is absurdly overcomplicated," said Relma.


    "It is complicated," said Estela. "But the game of kings and nobles is complicated by necessity. It takes a bit of work to follow, I know."


    After a few weeks, Relma began getting a handle on everything. Somewhat. She could discern which names were essential and which were unimportant. Some of the noble houses also stood out. Pretty soon, she had a good understanding of House Gabriel. Through them, she learned about their feud with House De Chevlon.


    Relma felt she could study this forever and still had no idea what she was discussing.


    And then, one day, Aren came walking through the gates in his usual garb. His cloak was a little singed, and his beard was a little shorter. Like he''d had to cut it. She met him. "Aren, you''re back!" she cried. She hugged him.


    "Yes, dear girl," said Aren. "I am back for the moment."


    Relma broke the embrace. "What happened? Did you get through to Wrynncurth?"


    "Somewhat," admitted Aren. "I''ve convinced him to pressure Telix to stop his raids, but that only treats the symptom. At the least, I''ve learned what the mess was about."


    "What was it?" asked Relma.


    "Some fool adventurer broke into the dragon''s lair and stole some of the treasure from the lair," said Aren. "Black dragons seal their soul within their hoard to stave off Alchara''s curse. Whoever it was then distributed the gold across the villagers'' fields.


    "If I get my hands on the wretch, I''ll have words with him; he might not survive. Though he may be dead already."


    "What was that about a curse?" asked Relma.


    "What has your aunt been teaching you, girl?" asked Aren. "The Goddess Alchara of the High Elves laid a curse on the entire black dragon race. It doomed all of them to a slow-wasting death. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say she created the black dragons through the curse. Either way, Wrynncurth found a way to beat off the spell by sealing his soul inside gold. Of course, as the dragon gets larger, they need more treasure. S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Robbing a black dragon''s hoard is a good way to earn their eternal hatred."


    "What happened to Smyngoth anyway?" asked Relma. "Is he really sleeping beneath the Black Mountain?"


    "He is," said Aren. "And if you are wise, you will never consider waking him up. He was always an unreasonable fellow when angry, and the disease did no favors to his sanity. Now I have to speak with the steward.


    "Where is your aunt?"


    "She hasn''t gotten back yet," said Relma.


    "Odd. It''s far longer to Wrynncurth than to the forest," said Aren. "Once I''ve spoken with Benarus, I''ll investigate the matter."


    At that moment, Ronald rushed up to them. He looked like he was in a panic. "Relma! Where have you been?"


    "What is it, Ronald?" asked Relma.


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    "Sir Argath has called for us," said Ronald. "He wants everyone to practice their shield wall formation."


    "Again?" asked Relma. "All right, let''s go."


    As they ran to get their kits together, Aren kept pace. He didn''t run, just walked in a leisurely fashion. Yet, somehow he was right alongside them as they sprinted to their quarters.


    "Speaking of which, how is your training going?" asked Aren.


    "It''s far harder," said Relma as she donned her armor. "I have to spend every day training for war instead of just off days. But on the brighter side, I don''t have to do scullery work."


    "Less talking, more training, now come on!" said Ronald.


    The practice was more grueling than usual. By the end, Ronald looked like he wanted to curl into her bed and die. However, first, they had to put away everything they had been using in the proper place. Argath was very insistent about that. Relma was very tired, but it didn''t get to her all that much.


    This was good because they had all kinds of other duties to attend to in the meantime. At last, they finished and dragged themselves back to their beds. The sun sank beyond the walls, bathing the world in orange light.


    "Ugh, I am so tired," said Ronald. "I swear if I have to do one more day of this, I will break."


    "Oh, come on, Ronald. It isn''t that bad," said Relma. "At least we''re away from home."


    "Easy for you to say," said Ronald. "You''re family came with you."


    "And immediately went off to negotiate with demons," noted Relma.


    "I guess," said Ronald. "How do you think all this is going to turn out?"


    "Aren and Aunt Pan will take care of it," said Relma. "They''re two of the most powerful sorcerers in the world. Maybe the most powerful. They can handle it."


    "I hope you''re right," said Ronald. "Maybe I''ll get to go home if they finish this." Relma looked up in surprise. "Don''t you like training to be a knight?"


    "No," admitted Ronald. "I preferred training with the halfling militia. I knew the people there. I don''t know anyone here."


    "Well, why don''t you get to know them?" asked Relma.


    "Good night," grunted Ronald, meaning the conversation was ending.


    "Good night," said Relma.


    She stayed in her bed, looking up at the stonework of the ceiling for a long time. As she did, she wondered why you could never remember falling asleep. Or waking up, for that matter. The moments between dream and reality didn''t exist. She must have fallen asleep at some point because she awoke with a start, only to be forced back down. Above her was a shadowy figure in the shape of a man. But there were ears like those of a wolf and fur.


    "Evening, milady." said a growling voice.


    "Who are you-" began Relma.


    Then, a rag was forced to her lips, and everything darkened.


    When Relma came to, there was a gag in her mouth, and she was shaken. Gel Carn was shrinking into the distance. Already, several villages were between her and it. Relma struggled, but her legs were tied together. Her arms were forced behind her back, and she was carried over one shoulder. A clawlike furry hand was gripping her from behind. She kicked and screamed, trying to free herself, but the ropes on her were far too tight. Whoever it was clenched a hand in surprise.


    "Don''t bother." said the voice. "We''re already near the eaves of the forest. No one can hear you." Relma kept screaming. Partially in case, he was wrong and partly to spite him.


    "That cloth should have kept you silent for hours," muttered whoever it was.


    Relma kept kicking. She managed to get him in the stomach, and he keeled over and dropped her. Relma landed on the ground and began to inch away. However, before she could get far, he was on her. He turned her around, and she saw her captor.


    He was incredibly handsome. His hair was wild and white as the snow around his tan skin. He looked about her age, and his eyes were a fiery red. She kicked him in the stomach again. Or tried. This time, he caught it.


    "You really aren''t going to stop, are you?" asked her captor, catching her legs between his arms. "Stop kicking. It''s irritating."


    Relma pulled herself up and headbutted him in the face. Stunned, he stepped back a few paces, and she began to inch away again. Then he was on her again and forced that damn rag into her face again. "You know, I think I like you. You''ve got spirit."


    This time, Relma did not fall unconscious. Instead, she found her limbs going loose as he hoisted her over his shoulder and kept moving. He sprinted with incredible speed and soon passed the eaves of the forest. Then he turned aside and leaped into the trees. Relma was scraped by the bushes.


    Why was he hiding?


    "Is something wrong?" asked someone.


    "I sense something," said Sir Frederick''s voice. "A lingering darkness. Be careful." Relma knew that rescue was not far. She just had to shout. But she could hardly summon the will to move. Move. Move. Move.


    Something surged through her. Relma felt the toxins within her purge themselves from her body. So she started yelling at the top of her lungs.


    "Quiet!" hissed the boy. "Do you want us to get caught?"


    "Mmmph!" answered Relma.


    "Right," said the boy, "stupid question."


    Then he leaped out from the underbrush. Before him was Sir Frederick and another soldier. They held their weapons at the ready.


    "So it is you, Ajax," said Frederick. "Once again, your vile nature has made itself known."


    "Frederick, I see you''re as self-righteous as always," said Ajax.


    "I will not allow you to devour that maiden!" said Frederick.


    "Devour?" asked Ajax. "I''m not going to eat her! I''m just going to force her to marry me and use her as a hostage to keep Gail Arengeth out of Father''s business!"


    Frederick charged forward, bringing around his spear. But Ajax vaulted over the blow and made for the forest. However, Frederick spun his spear, and Ajax was hit in the legs. The wolf boy caught himself on his left hand and pushed himself into the air. Relma was thrown off to land hard on the ground. It hurt.


    Ajax took a stance, baring his claws.


    "Vile fiend!" said Frederick. "Are you alright, milady?"


    "Mmmph," said Relma.


    Out of the trees came dozens upon dozens of men trailing their arrows at Ajax. The wolf boy smirked as he looked around and raised his hands.


    "You are surrounded, beast," said Frederick. "Surrender and tell us where you have taken the others, and you may live?"


    Ajax''s smile widened. "Surrounded, hmm? Have you looked around lately?"


    There was an unearthly howl that resounded through the wood. The foresters looked up in fear, their hands shaking. Relma felt afraid as well, overwhelmingly so. Except it was somehow separate from her.


    It wasn''t separate from the others, however. They screamed in horror and fled toward the open ground.


    "Telix!" screamed someone. "Telix has come!"


    Only Frederick remained where he was. He rushed toward Relma, but Ajax barred his path. Then, with a swipe of his claw, he broke Frederick''s spear, and the knight drew his sword.


    Even so, it quickly became apparent that Ajax was on the defensive. The halfling knight hacked and slashed. As a result, Ajax was rapidly losing ground. And yet he never stopped smiling, even as he took a wound to the hand.


    A presence drew near as Frederick and Ajax fought back and forth. Something which spoke of terror beyond imagination. And Relma realized that Frederick wasn''t like her. He felt the same terror the others had. He wasn''t separate from it like she was.


    He just stayed to fight anyway.


    And then, out of the forests, emerged a creature. It was vaguely humanoid. But it was far more wolf than Ajax. Its two eyes were glowing blood red. Frederick staggered back as hundreds of wolves and creatures like Ajax came out of the woods.


    He took a stance and waited for the end.


    "Leave now, knight," said Telix. "While I still allow it."


    Frederick held his ground for a moment. He looked to Relma. There was no reason he should die here. Not for nothing. She shook her head when he tried to make it for her.


    Finally, he sheathed his sword. "So be it. I shall return."


    "Believe what you will," said Telix. "Begone."


    Frederick turned and departed. The wolves made way for him, snarling as he passed. When he was gone, Telix came forward and ruffled Ajax''s hair. "Well, son, you managed to get into trouble before the end." "Sorry, Father," said Ajax. "I figured the worst was over once I slipped past Arengeth."


    "You were largely right," said Telix. "Still, it was well done of you to learn all this. Your vigil on Pandora has not been wasted. Take the girl, and let us return to the lair immediately."


    Vigil on Pandora. Then, someone had been watching them that day. It had been Ajax. Relma started screaming again to spite them.


    "Could you silence her somewhat?" asked Telix.


    "I gagged her and used all the knockout poison I had; what more do you want?" asked Ajax. "The only reason they heard her was because it wore off. Anya." He glared at a tall, wolf girl with black hair and a slim frame. She was clad in deerskin and had bright red eyes.


    The girl met his gaze. "Try completing your task faster, and it won''t happen."


    "It should not have worn off," said Telix. "I taught you poisons better than that." He looked around. "We should go at once. Pandora is distracted, but we must adjust our strategy if she learns of this before we are prepared."


    "As you will, Father," said Anya.


    One thing after another.

 Chapter 29 - Seven: Imprisonment

    Relma awoke, feeling very sore with an aching back and hair in front of her face. As she roused herself, to her surprise, she was lying on a clean linen bed rather than a wolf den. Her arms and legs were unbound, the ceiling above her appeared to be wood, and an earthy smell was in the air. As her vision cleared, she saw that it was living wood.


    As though hundreds of trees had been grown together to form a building. Though there were no twigs or growth inside.


    She stood up. "Where am I? "The question left her lips. Depending on the answer, she could have a serious problem.


    "In the domain of the wolf god, Telix," said a voice. Relma looked up to see a brown-haired girl her age. "I''m Marsha. Who are you?"


    Relma looked around. She was in a large room. The floor was of packed earth, and dozens of other women were within it. They were going about various mundane tasks for the most part. Many were chores such as washing and cleaning.


    "Are you alright?" asked Marsha.


    "My name is Relma Artorious," said Relma. "What is this place? I mean, is there any way out?"


    "We''re in the underground tunnels where they keep the women they''ve taken," said Marsha. "Nobody knows what they intend to do with us, but we haven''t been able to escape."


    "Ajax told me he intended to marry me," said Relma.


    "Well, you''re luckier than most, then," said Marsha.


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "Well, have you seen Ajax?" asked Marsha. "I mean, I know he has those wolf ears, but-"


    "You''re joking?" asked Relma. "Have you never heard that beauty is only skin deep?"


    "Sure, but it''s still beautiful," said Marsha. "And real beauty takes effort to keep that way, so it speaks of character. He certainly is well-groomed."


    "How long have you been here?" asked Relma, suspecting the answer was long.


    "Erm, three days," said Marsha. That short a time? "There were others who were here, but they were taken away. We thought maybe they had been eaten, but Telix wouldn''t do anything like that. So we''re to become part of the pack."


    "Pack?" asked Relma.


    "Telix is a son of Baltoth and a wolf," said Marsha. "His children take on both traits. Or that''s what Ajax says, anyway. He claims that we''ll all join them soon."


    "You don''t seem very upset about it," noted Relma.


    "Well, we should feel that way, I suppose. But... something stops us," said Marsha. "When you come here the first day, you''ll look for ways to escape and be terrified. But then, as time passes, you realize it isn''t all so bad."


    "We''re being held captive by demon wolves who may or may not want to eat us," noted Relma.


    "But Ajax said he''d marry you," said another girl, sounding jealous.


    Something was wrong here. These girls were not well. "He said nothing about you, though. So let us try to find a way to escape."


    "Well, if he did eat me, well, I suppose there are worse fates," said Marsha. She sounded wistful. "I mean, someone that beautiful deserves to eat who he likes."


    "Okay. I''m going to look around," said Relma, deciding she didn''t want anything more to do with this. "Is there anything strange about this place you can tell me?"


    "Well, I''ll show you around," said Marsha. "Very nice and comfortable. They set aside beds for everyone who comes here. Most of us are lucky if we have a bedroll or straw. And meals are brought in every so often. They''re much higher quality than anything we''ve eaten at home.


    "Though time passes strangely around here."


    "Maybe you''re not paying attention," noted Relma. Then she noticed a symbol on the far wall. It was a glowing, intricate rune that mesmerized the eyes. "What''s that?"


    "That?" asked Marsha. "Oh, that provides the light."


    "I''ve seen runes like this before in my Aunt Pan''s house," said Relma, approaching it.


    "You have?" asked Marsha.


    "Yes. Once, a man who served in the wars was having a fit," said Relma. "He kept seeing enemies all around him, and he''d become a danger to himself. So Aunt Pan created a rune like this and had him sit near it with a cup of tea for a few minutes daily.


    "It helped him a lot. He was a lot calmer afterward."


    "Well, that just shows you that Ajax and Telix aren''t so bad," said Marsha.


    "I asked her about it afterward," said Relma. "She told me that it was a rune made to make one calm. Someone who spent time near it gradually accepted things as they were. The longer someone was near it, the longer it lasted."


    "So, what''s your point?" asked Marsha.


    "Well, whatever Telix brought you all here for, don''t you think maybe he''s trying to soften you up?" asked Relma. "Make you accept your fate?"


    "That... that makes sense," said Marsha. Then, for the first time, she looked scared. "We''ve got to get out of here!"


    "Calm down," said Relma. "If we make a fuss, they''ll notice. Keep reminding yourselves why you are so calm about all this for now. I''m going to see if I can find a way out. Those runes make a light. Maybe I can turn it into a fire or something and have it burn us a way out."


    "Do you know how to use runes?" asked Marsha.


    "No," admitted Relma. "But runes are just the manifestation of a spirit''s power. The sorcerer isn''t the one using the power. So if I can get through to the spirit, I can get them to do the work instead.


    "She paused. "It can''t be that hard. Aunt Pan always makes it look easy."


    She made her way up to the rune and tried to remember how Aunt Pan did it. Setting one hand to it, she closed her eyes and decided to put forth her mind. Nothing happened. She tried pushing her consciousness forward.


    Nothing happened. Evidently, it was challenging. Then Relma felt something, an ordered mind. It looked at her in irritation, and Relma realized it was listening. "Who are you?"


    There were better ways to take charge.


    "I am the spirit of the wood, Akaton," said the spirit. His voice was harsh and cold.


    "So you''re working with Telix?" asked Rema.


    "I serve Adrian Wrynncurth," said Akaton. "He has given this domain to Telix, so I serve him."


    "Why are you helping him keep us captive?" asked Relma. Of course, that was a stupid question.


    "I serve Adrian Wrynncurth," said Akaton. "He has given this domain to Telix, and so I serve him. Telix has commanded that those within this room be held until they are ready to become part of the pack."


    Relma had the feeling Akaton had a winning personality. "Do you know what is happening to the girls taken away from here?"


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    "I serve Adrian Wrynncurth. He has given this domain to Telix, and so I serve him," said Akaton. "Telix has commanded that I tell no one what has occurred."


    "Right, okay," said Relma. "So why do you serve Wrynncurth?"


    "Once I served the line of Anoa the Bright," said Akaton. "He commanded that I acknowledge Adrian Wrynncurth as overlord. So when Andoa''s last heir died, I served Adrian Wrynncurth. He gave this domain to Telix, and so I serve him."


    "So if another heir of Anoa the Bright were to appear, you''d have to obey them, right?" asked Relma.


    Akaton remained silent for a moment. "...I serve Adrian Wrynncurth. He has given this domain to Telix, so I serve him."


    "Is that a no?" asked Relma. So why did he keep harping on the same thing?


    "I serve Adrian Wrynncurth," said Akaton. "The line of Anoa the Bright ceased to exist. Even if they reappeared, they would not possess any more right to this domain."


    "Why not?" asked Relma.


    "Harlenor has fractured," said Akaton. "The three Kingdoms have all splintered into still smaller domains. No man at arms now pledges his loyalty to Anoa the Bright but rather to his legacy. An heir of Anoa the Bright would not hold any authority over the land. It has passed beyond them.


    "I serve Adrian Wrynncurth. He has given this domain to Telix, so I serve him."


    Relma took her hand off the rune and looked at Marsha. "Okay, yeah, the spirits of the land aren''t going to help. Let me think. Do we have any other resources here?" She paused and looked around. Something was missing.


    And then she realized what it was. "Hey, Marsha. Where is the door?"


    "There," said Marsha, pointing to a flat wall. "It doesn''t look like one, I know."


    At that moment, there was a moaning sound. The wall began to separate, like the roots of a tree changing over many years. And yet, it was all happening in an instant. A door was opened, and into the room was a massive figure. He was like Ajax but far larger, half the size of Telix. He had a long black beard and one eye that was pure white. His tan face was all scarred, and all the women shrank back as he approached.


    "Who is that?" asked Relma.


    "Rustoff," said Marsha. "Telix''s eldest child."


    Rustoff looked up. And as if by some signal, all the women put themselves into lines so Rustoff could see each of them. Relma was compelled to join the line but shrank back into the shadows instead. She tried to remain silent and out of sight. Like she''d done when she''d accidentally ruined Aunt Pan''s best cooking pot.


    Her luck must have changed since then because Rustoff didn''t even notice her. The half-wolf strode forward, grim-faced, and motioned. Marsha and three other girls approached him as though in a trance. "Telix has commanded your presence at once. You four will accompany me."


    "Where are we being taken?" asked Marsha.


    Rustoff eyed her. "You are to be given a choice."


    He led Marsha and the others through the doors. Relma broke from the shadows as he walked through and ran for the door. But even as they passed between it, the doors began to snap shut. Relma hit it too late and fell back, clutching her face.


    Even if she''d gotten through, it would have been no good. Rustoff would have surely noticed her. Still, at least she knew where the door was.


    As she stood up, she thought about things. Akaton obviously was going to be of little help. But Aunt Pan had always taught her that spirits were actually the combined will of the land. The thing you talked about was just one aspect of that will.


    She could talk to someone else.


    Relma raised a hand and exerted her will. "Open." Nothing happened. "Slide." Nothing happened. "Move aside." Strangely enough, nothing happened. "Um, okay, let me think..." The words came to her suddenly. "Open in the name of Anoa the Bright!"


    As she said them, her voice was harsh and vicious. As if spoken through her by someone else entirely. The door shuddered before her and slid aside as if in fear. Relma blinked. "...Hey, that actually worked. I''d better get after them quickly. I wish I had a sword, though."


    It would only do her a little good. She''d had a few weeks of training in swords. Halflings trained in spears and axes.


    As she walked, she found that presence within her was guiding her. She discovered she could catch up to Rustoff swiftly yet remain in the shadows. Yet, melding into them was so easy. Like someone else was doing it.


    Could Anoa be working through her?


    But if he was, why was he so good at stealth? Relma had always imagined him as a king in shining armor from whom light radiated. He had never seemed the kind to stab a man in the back. S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I left my old self behind a long time ago. What remains now is a shadow, a memory that can scarcely be recalled."


    The words came back to her. Anoa wasn''t who people thought he was. He''d risen to power, fighting an empire of elves with better weapons. Better training. Better magic and dragons on their side. Of course, he''d used every weapon at his disposal. Charging in sword drawn was a luxury of superior powers.


    And even they only did it when they were stupid.


    The tunnels stretched onward. Every so often, they came across guards, and Relma found herself slipping past them. More than ever, she felt like a spectator in her own body. She was moving, and she willed it. But it was like she was a puppet on strings. Or a puppet on strings. "Why are our hands not being bound?" asked Marsha suddenly, voice afraid.


    "My father, Telix, trusts you not to abuse his hospitality," said Rustoff, glancing back with his good eye. "He has brought you here to make a choice. That is all."


    "I see," said Marsha. "I am... flattered by his generosity."


    "And so you should be," said Rustoff. "Come, he awaits us beyond this door."


    What door? All Relma saw was a massive, impassable wall. One that began to slide aside before them to reveal an enormous throne room. Only the pillars were trees. The walls were lined with roots. And upon a massive throne of animal skulls lounged Telix.


    The wolf demon was devouring an entire cow. With a single bite, he ripped it in half and swallowed it. Bones and all. He wiped away the blood with a white tablecloth and then drank from a chalice filled with red liquid. It didn''t look like wine.


    "Ah," said Telix as they entered, "lambs blood. There is nothing better. "Welcome, Rustoff, my son. And welcome to you, ladies. I hope you will grace us with your presence for far longer than you originally planned."

 Chapter 30 - Eight: Telixs Offer

    Relma felt a little afraid as she trailed behind them through the halls. It wasn''t the detached fear she''d felt with other things. This was a genuine fear; all she could do was stay in the shadows and not bolt away in terror.


    She could only imagine what Marsha and the others must have been feeling. They were kneeling before the wolf god, far closer. You could feel his hot breath in the air, making Relma shudder. There were many terrible stories of Telix and his adventures in Escor, particularly during the civil war, where he had eradicated House Star. Those who behaved with dishonor paid the ultimate price at his claws. Relma knew well not to make an enemy of him.


    "You are... Telix," gasped Marsha.


    "Yes," said Telix. "I am the Master of the Pack. The son of Baltoth. The Lord of Wolves. And I did not bring you here lightly.


    "Rest assured. It is a matter of great import."


    "What... what matter?" asked Marsha, voice trancelike.


    "How shall I put this?" asked Telix, putting down his cup and leaning down to look at them with dark eyes. "Although I am a son of Baltoth, my loyalty has never been to Calisha. I was sired while he was hunting for Anoa IX. And although I am of his blood, I do not serve him.


    "For a long time, I wandered the lands of Harlenor. I have had many enemies among those who dwell within it and many friends. But, unfortunately, with the rise of tensions with the Calishans, I am less welcome.


    "And as my pack grew, it became dangerous to move about.


    "So it was that I decided to make a place for myself. And at long last, I have succeeded with the help of Adrian Wrynncurth."


    "But..." gasped Marsha. "You attacked our homes..."


    "Indeed, I did. However, it was nothing personal. One must defend their allies. When one of Adrian''s children was killed, I was obligated to respond in kind," said Telix. He lowered a massive claw to force Marsha to look up at him.


    "Why... why are we here?" asked Marsha.


    "That is an interesting question," said Telix. "Although my pack has swelled in numbers, I desire mortal servants. I want to create a small kingdom of my own in time. When I came to this forest, I found many bandits and vagabonds wandering it. They were thieving off the countryside.


    "Adrian desired that I destroy them. However, I found a more artful solution.


    "My children and I hunted them, finding the strongest and best of them. These we blessed with our will, gradually transforming them into greater beings. You would know them as werewolves. Where once they were murderers and thieves, now their minds and bodies have been reshaped in my image."


    He motioned, and a group of men came forward from the shadows. They were like Ajax, but they were more wolves or more men. Their transformation could have been better.


    "I desire that these bandits yield and become the subjects in my dominion," said Telix. "Unfortunately, most of them are men. There are too few females among them to make a sustainable population."


    "You... wish us... to become their wives..." guessed Marsha.


    "I leave such arrangements to nature," said Telix dismissively. "No, I will merely offer you a choice. A unique chance.


    "If you accept this chance, then one of my children will pass their blessing onto you. In so doing, you will become like us. Your senses will be sharpened, and your life will be extended. And you will be blessed with my divine will.


    "Your existence will be given a purpose far beyond any other."


    The other girls arose as if in a trance. "Don''t listen to him!" shouted Marsha. "He''s a demon! He''ll corrupt us!"


    The girls hesitated. Telix laughed, a sound that resounded throughout the hall. The girls cowered before it, except Marsha, who kept standing. Relma wanted to run but also to stay to see the rest.


    "That is certainly one interpretation." said the wolf demon. "This brings me to the other choice. You may refuse my offer, and you will be escorted freely back to your villages." Marsha looked up at him. "You''d just let us go?"


    "Of course. Anyone strong-willed enough to resist my will deserves to be rewarded," said Telix. "Of course, of all those who have stood before me, not one has resisted my will. Come, join us. Become one of our pack and found a new nation. Once you have become one of my brood, I shall grant you leave to do as you like, to see your family and live as you will."


    Silence fell over the four women. One of them finally arose. "I... I will join..."


    "As... will... I..." said another.


    Marsha shuddered as their gaze fell on her. "No... No, I will not. Don''t listen to him! He wants to turn us against Elranor, against everything we stand for!"


    "Neither will I," said the fourth girl.


    One of those who had spoken shifted and then stepped back. "Yes... You''re right, Marsha. I won''t be part of this."


    Telix leaned back in his seat and took another sip of lambs'' blood. Then he smiled, revealing a mouth of sharp teeth. "So be it. Seldom have I seen such a strong will among the mortal races. Rustoff, return them to their domain tomorrow. As for the other, take her to the chamber of preparation."


    The girls were led away. Some past Relma, others slipping into a side passage. Relma wondered if she''d see any of them again. However, Rustoff remained. He looked up to Telix. "We have had news. The spirits of the wood will not side with the Heir of Kings. They believe her claim on them outdated."


    "Excellent," said Telix. "Adrian will be pleased to hear that. Now, where is Pandora?"


    "Still dallying among the villages," said Rustoff. "She has been sitting upward to help them. It has made stealing from their flocks very difficult. However, she will be furious when she learns of what we have done."


    "You worry too much, my son," said Telix. "We are strong and can handle this."


    Rustoff shook his head. "Pandora is powerful. When she learns that we have captured her charge, she will surely come after us with much fire and fury."


    "I do not think she will be in such haste to attack us," said Telix. "No one wants this situation to escalate. The days when you could grab a sword and kill all your enemies without fear of consequences are long past.


    "We have an alliance with Adrian Wrynncurth. If Pandora attacks us directly, it will be the start of a war Gel Carn can''t win."


    "And what of marrying Ajax to her?" asked Rustoff. "This whim of his doesn''t sit right with me."


    "She is the Heir of Kings," said Telix. "Mixing our blood with that of Anoa the Brights will give us great power. Especially when Harlenor Reunited comes about."


    "That is what concerns me," said Rustoff. "It may be considered escalating the situation in itself. On the other hand, we may wish to merely take her as a political prisoner."


    "Oh, come on, Rustoff!" laughed a voice. "I kidnapped her fair and square!"


    And Ajax walked into the room. Rustoff turned to regard him with irritation. He was about to speak, but Telix raised a hand. "Your brother has a point, Ajax. We''ll hold off on the marriage for a time, at least. Then, once we''re better secured, we''ll go through it. Besides, it will be better if she''s convinced over to our side first."


    "Father, with respect, what if Pandora is reckless?" asked Rustoff. "She and Arengeth are used to having their word be law. If they decide to attack us, what will we do?"


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    "Hmm," Telix seemed to withdraw into himself. His eyes closed as he contemplated. Relma wondered what elaborate plan he would come up with? What magnificent feat of cunning would be utilized? He opened his eyes. "In that case, I''ll kill both of them, and we won''t have a problem."


    Rustoff put his hands over his eyes. "They are the most powerful sorcerers in Harlenor."


    "Actually, I''m fairly certain that title belongs to Rusara of the Dust Elves," said Telix. "Aren would be second place, and Pandora third."


    "My only intention is that we have a plan to deal with the worst-case scenario," said Rustoff.


    "Oh, very well, we''ll make arrangements just in case," said Telix. "Perhaps poisons which dull the mind? Such a thing would be lethal to a sorcerer."


    Suddenly, Relma was seized with a desire to leave. She knew she could get information by staying. But Relma had the feeling that waiting any longer would get her discovered. So, letting herself be guided away from the throne room, she went through the halls.


    She did not know this place. And the longer she was stalking around, the more likely she''d be caught. She couldn''t find her own way. So what was she supposed to do now? Ask for directions?


    That might work. Everyone knew she had been taken prisoner. So, there was a good reason for her to be around the halls. Not unescorted, but she could work around these. So why not ask for directions?


    As she walked, she saw a familiar face. That wolf girl, Anya, from before. She was leaning against a wall, munching on a rabbit, raw. There was blood in her mouth.


    This was it. Either she''d believe Relma, or she wouldn''t. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Relma emerged from the shadows. "Excuse me."


    "You!" said Anya, standing with a start. "You''re that girl Ajax was after. Speak quickly."


    "Sorry," said Rema, "I was told I would be escorted back to my village, but I fell behind and got lost. Do you think you could show me the way out?"


    Anya blinked and looked her up and down. "...I see. I suppose anyone foolish enough to refuse Lord Telix isn''t what one could call bright. I''ll take you to the entrance, but no further."


    And Anya led Relma away through the halls of living wood. It was far too easy for Relma''s liking, but she knew she was being taken away from the throne room. Was she leading Relma to where the girls were being transformed?


    Come to think of it, she had seen Relma get captured. She probably knew that Relma was a particular case. At least Relma thought she was a special case. Damn it, Relma''s story had more holes in it than she could have imagined.


    At that moment, a group of werewolves came around the corner. They were werewolves, weren''t they? But, whatever they were, they had several regular wolves with them, which snarled.


    "Easy, all of you," said Anya. "We have a lost sheep here. I''m taking her to the entrance."


    "How did she slip Rustoff''s watch?" asked one of the men.


    "Can you smell anything from her?" asked Anya.


    They sniffed. "No."


    "Precisely," said Anya. "Step aside."


    Wait a minute, was Relma''s plan working? Why would Anya play along? She must have been aware of Relma''s situation. Unless she was foolish. But she didn''t give that vibe. So, there must have been something else at work.


    Either way, at least Relma had to play along until they reached the entrance.


    "What was that you meant about my scent?" asked Relma.


    Anya shrugged. "We can''t smell people with the blood of angels in them. So you must have some holy blood in you."


    "The wolves smelled me," noted Relma.


    "Yes," said Anya. "That''s because they don''t have any demon blood in them." Suddenly, she drew very near. Her bloodstained lips were near Relma''s ear. "I like your hair. Are you sure you don''t want to reconsider? I''d like you as one of my broods."


    There was a seductive compulsion put against Relma at that moment. Relma felt that she would have found it hard to resist if she''d been like others. But the separation was still there.


    "No, thank you," said Relma.


    "Are you sure you don''t want me to bite you?" asked Anya. "Immortality. And a high place in the Black Marsh Brood. Your blood would ensure that."


    Time to change the subject. "I thought it was Telix''s brood."


    Anya stepped back. "Brood is a term for those whom Telix or his children have turned. When one of us bites someone and puts out spit into the wound, they are transformed. They become a perfect fusion of wolf and mortal. Unfortunately, they are also brought under the will of the one who bit them."


    "That sounds handy," said Relma. "How have you not taken over the entire world by now?"


    Anya shrugged. "Well, the problem is that you must put part of yourself into them. Turning more than one creature in a year is dangerous. If done too much, it can leave you a weakened husk.


    "Only Telix can turn more than one person in a year. And he only does it for truly remarkable cases.


    "What''s your name?"


    Was it possible she genuinely didn''t recognize Relma? It seemed too convenient. She couldn''t answer with her real name. "Ralma." What a brilliant difference. No one would ever guess her true identity.


    "Ralma?" asked Anya, looking up thoughtfully. "Hmm, similar name to that girl Ajax brought in."


    "I''m no relation," said Relma.


    "I''m sure," said Anya before putting a hand on the wall. It peeled aside to reveal a passage leading into a forest of massive trees. "This is the entrance. I''d better take you to the edge of the wood, though. If you were caught alone, you''d probably be thrown right back into prison."


    That settled it. Anya was only taking her out into the forest to devour her. Or possibly turn her against her will. Or something else. There was no way anyone could be this stupid.


    As they walked into the forest above, Relma kneeled down and picked up a large branch. She pretended to use it as a walking stick. Anya looked at her with raised eyebrows. "So, um, what''s your name?"


    "Anya," said Anya.


    "Hey, uh, the names of the children of Telix seem to vary a lot, don''t they?" asked Relma as they walked.


    "How did you know I was one of his children?" asked Anya.


    Relma blinked. It occurred to her naturally. Had it just been a wild guess? Or something more. "Well, you had this kind of aura. You seemed naturally more powerful, is all."


    "Of course," said Anya, smiling slightly. "If you want to know, Father journeyed everywhere in his youth. He wrote down names he liked in a book and used them whenever he had a new child. Ajax, for instance, is a name from the continent of Themious."


    Relma had never heard of that place. "What''s that like?"


    "It is ruled by women with extended lifespans and extraordinary strength," said Anya. "But to compensate, the men are all far weaker and timid. Or something to that effect." Then she stopped. "Here we are."


    "Um, this isn''t the edge of the woods," said Relma, tightening her grip on her stick.


    "I''m well aware," said Anya. "You see, I lied. When you told me your name, I guessed who you really were. You''re that Heir of Kings who Ajax has become obsessed with making his own."


    "Guilty as charged," said Relma. "Why did you take me out here?"


    "Well, obviously because I don''t like Ajax," said Anya. "I don''t like the way Father dotes on him. So I''m going to turn you now so that he can''t. Even if he gets to marry you, it''ll be a permanent reminder that I am the dominant-"


    Relma hit her in the face with a stick. Anya flinched. Relma hit her again, and the stick broke. Anya blinked. "You''re far less stupid than you let on. I planned to convert you as a pet, but you may be more than that."


    "One question," said Relma, "Why did you make the offer earlier?"


    "It would be even more humiliating for Ajax if you joined my brood willingly," said Anya. And then she surged forward. In one move, she had Relma''s hands gripped. Her bloody lips peeled back to reveal fangs as she surged forward- Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And then stopped. A blade was at her throat.


    "Who are you?" asked Anya.


    Relma looked up and saw Estela. The older girl was clad in chainmail and wearing a flowing blue cape. Her armor gleamed in the sunlight that fell through the trees. She smiled, looking at the very image of knighthood. "The Lady Estela at your service! Well, actually, a squire. But I suggest you let the girl go."


    Anya let go of Relma''s hands and flipped backward into the air before landing on a low-hanging tree branch.


    "You really should leave while you can," said Estela, flourishing her blade.


    Anya wiped the blood from her mouth. "You don''t know much about the children of Telix, do you?"


    Then she surged forward. Estela ducked under her lunge, only to be yanked off her feet by the cape. In a moment, Anya was on Estela''s chest. Estela stabbed at her, but her hand was grabbed. Anya tried to bite her, but Estela caught her by the throat.


    The two rolled on the ground in mortal combat. Both were able to gain an advantage over the other. Then Ronald came out of the trees and knocked Anya on the head with the back of a short sword.


    Anya slumped forward, and Estela rose up, dusting herself off. "Thanks, Ronald. That was close. Are you all right, Relma?"


    "Yes," said Relma. "But I hit her on the head with a stick. So why didn''t that work?"


    "That''s the tricky thing about demons," said Estela. "Fighting them is half spiritual. So a weapon that a smith worked tirelessly to create is going to be a lot more effective against them than a stick. Even if the stick is just as heavy.


    "That''s why paladins all wield swords. As weapons go, swords take the most work of any common weapon to create."


    "I always wondered about that," said Relma. "But how did you two get here?"


    "We came to rescue you, obviously," said Estela. "Ronald noticed you were gone that night and saw that wolf demon running off with you. He alerted me, and we came after you."


    "The Steward gave you leave?" asked Relma in surprise.


    "Erm... well, not really," said Estela. "We didn''t actually tell anyone where we were going."


    "What?" said Ronald. "But you said he gave permission!"


    "I say a lot of things," said Estela. "I figured it would be an adventure."


    "All of us could have died," said Ronald.


    "I guess," said Estela. Then she looked at Anya. "Speaking of which, she''s still alive, isn''t she?" She pushed Anya''s face up with one foot and raised her sword.


    "Wait, don''t kill her," said Relma.


    Estela looked up. "Why not?"


    "She''s a daughter of Telix," said Relma. "If we kill her, Telix will go on a rampage. So we should tie her up and take her prisoner. Then we can trade her for the girls he had kidnapped."


    "We don''t have any rope," said Estela.


    Ronald pulled out several lengths from his pack. "I do."


    Estela blinked. "You do? Why?"


    "Father always told me, ''Never travel without two lengths of rope. One to lose and one to use,''" said Ronald.


    "Great," said Estela. "Let''s use both."


    They set about tying up Anya. They were Estela, who seemed to possess an intimate understanding of what to do. Several of the loops she made served less to restrain Anya. More to illustrate her helplessness.


    Relma felt that Estela was enjoying this and decided to change the subject. "Oh, um, did you see my Aunt Pan while we were on our way back?"


    "No," said Estela, tightening the last rope. "Why would we?"


    "Well, I don''t really want her to get back to Gel Carn and find me gone," said Relma. "It could end badly."


    Estela shrugged. "Well, we''re heading back now."


    Then she slung the unconscious, bound werewolf over one shoulder and walked off.

 Chapter 31 - Nine: Bargaining

    A few hours later, Estela was being stubborn again, as usual. The woods were still around them and showed no signs of going anywhere. They had changed directions several times and were no closer to their goal. Relma sighed as they passed that same stump again.


    "We''re lost, and you know it," Relma said. Why couldn''t Estela admit she had no idea where she was going? Relma probably knew better, but Estela would never listen.


    "We''re not lost," said Estela. "We''re just finding our way."


    "This wouldn''t have happened if you hadn''t broken my compass, you know," said Ronald.


    "I didn''t break your compass," said Estela. "You passed it to me badly." Why was she like this?


    "Could you just admit you dropped it?" asked Ronald.


    "After you passed it to me badly," said Estela.


    "Just keep walking in one direction," said Ronald. "We''re sure to come out somewhere."


    "Assuming the wolves don''t track us down," said Relma. "They''re sure to have discovered I''m gone by now. We must get to Gel Carn quickly, or things could be bad."


    "What''s the rush?" asked Estela. "You don''t think they''ll march straight to war over a couple of squires, do you?"


    Relma decided not to blab the truth and gave a look to Ronald. "Well, you never know." was what she said.


    Estela must have noticed before she looked at them hard. "Actually, you do," she said.


    At that moment, Anya slung over Estela''s shoulder and woke up. She started struggling. Straining against her ropes and thrashing. She glared hatefully at Relma. "Mmmph! Mmmph!"


    "Well, it sounds like our prisoner has woken up," said Estela. "Come on, let''s keep moving." Anya kept shouting and thrashing as they walked. It became increasingly irritating as they walked. Relma was afraid that they would attract attention. "Did you tie her properly?"


    "Of course," said Estela.


    "She''s making a lot of noise," said Relma.


    "You know, if you''d made a bit more noise, we wouldn''t have been in this situation in the first place," said Estela.


    "I couldn''t," said Relma. "Ajax did something to make me fall unconscious."


    "It''s calling hitting someone over the head," said Estela flatly. "An ancient technique that is known only to the greatest warriors. One that has been passed down in Ronald''s family for generations." Did she have to be so snide about all this?


    "No, I mean he put a cloth over my mouth," said Relma. "When I breathed through it, I fell asleep." Anya kept yelling. "I wish we had one of those now."


    Ronald hit Anya over the head again, and she fell unconscious. "I can improvise."


    "Will you stop doing that?" asked Relma. "You could hurt her."


    "She was attracting attention," said Ronald. "Do you think it was some kind of spell?"


    Relma looked down. "No. I know spellwork when I see it. It must have been a poison of some kind."


    "What did he want you for anyway?" asked Estela.


    "He wanted to marry me," said Relma. "I think he was stalking me before now. But right now, Telix is transforming villagers into wolf people."


    "So werewolves," said Estela.


    "What''s a werewolf," asked Relma.


    "Mmmph!" screamed Anya again.


    "A person who transforms into a wolf when the Moon Spirit is at its zenith. We have them in Escor. Father killed one a long time ago. Although," she switched her grip on Anya to a bridal hold, "this one seems to be only half transformed. And the moon isn''t high. So it isn''t a werewolf.


    "Mmmph." hissed Anya.


    "Shut up," said Estela. "Ronald, could you hit her again?"


    And then there was a long howl. It reached throughout the forests and chilled Relma to the core. Estela hardened and set down Anya. "Wolves."


    "Come on!" said Ronald. "We''ve got to go."


    "No, don''t run," said Relma. "You can''t outrun wolves. So instead, we have to climb a tree."


    "But I''m terrible at climbing!" said Ronald.


    "Mmmph," said Anya in amusement. Estela kicked her.


    "Just try," said Relma, "I''ll help you."


    "It won''t do any good anyway," said Estela, drawing her sword. "We''d have to abandon our hostage. And something tells me these people can climb themselves."


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    "Mmph," agreed Anya.


    "We have to do something," said Relma.


    Estela considered things. "Both of you climb that tree. I''ll keep our hostage here and see if we can negotiate."


    There was no more time to talk. The howls were drawing near. Quickly, Relma helped Ronald up to the lowest branch, and when he began climbing, she did her best to follow. Several times, she slipped and hurt herself and nearly fell.


    Even so, she managed to clamber up a few branches. Enough that a wolf couldn''t leap up and bite her, she hoped. She and Ronald looked down from the tree.


    Estela was sitting cross-legged. Anya''s head was on her lap, and her sword was at the wolf girl''s throat.


    That was the scene when Ajax burst out of the trees with many regular wolves with him. They formed a circle, but Estela stood dead still. They halted as they saw the blade.


    "You have something that doesn''t belong to you, human," said Ajax.


    "Actually, I''ve got several things that don''t belong to you or me," said Estela. "Your sister is one of them. And unless you want me to spill her blood all over the ground, you will do exactly as I say."


    Ajax laughed. "Come off it. We''ll be on you in a flash and devour you the moment you do that. Then we''ll take what we came for anyway."


    "And you have a dead sister at the end of it," noted Estela.


    Ajax paused. Father would want me to at least try to save Anya. All right then. Hand her over, and I''ll grant you and that halfling boy safe passage out of here. I''ll take my prize, and nobody has to die."


    "See, that''s a bit of a problem," said Estela with the usual false bravado. "Ronald and I had to leave Gel Carn without leaving to rescue ''your'' prize. If we return empty-handed, we''ll be thrashed with nothing to show. And I''d rather be eaten by wolves than admit defeat."


    "We could wait in shifts until you nod off," noted Ajax.


    "I could cut her throat when I start to get tired," shot back Estela. That was ruthless. Relma knew Estela was bargaining, but stalling seemed all they could do here. And if she made Ajax angry, it could get them all killed. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Ajax paused. "...Well, if we can''t negotiate, what can we do?"


    "Not much. Killing all of you will be a lot of trouble for me," said Estela. "And you can''t kill me without losing your sister."


    "I can wait," said Ajax. "Sooner or later, you''ll make a mistake."


    "And I''ll spill Anya''s blood all over the ground," said Estela proudly. Far too proud to be genuine. "I''ll return her to you only once I have your word that all three of us can leave in peace."


    The stalemate continued.


    "...Estela is buying us some time, I guess," said Relma with a sigh. "But what do we do now?" Then she looked up and saw that Ronald had clambered over to the edge of one of the far-reaching branches. He had poured two flasks of oil all over it. Now, he was working at it with a flint and fuel to create a spark. Relma clambered up after him. "Ronald, what are you doing?"


    "Starting a fire," said Ronald. He got a spark, and the branch burst into a merry flame. The wolves above sniffed the air and looked up.


    "You''re setting the tree on fire?" asked Relma. "We''re on top of it!"


    "Don''t worry, I brought a saw with me," said Ronald, drawing it out.


    "What has that got to do with anything?" asked Relma.


    She saw what he was doing soon. He began to saw at the branch to cut it off and send it into the underbrush. But before he could finish, sparks flew out and caught on nearby trees. Even as the branch fell from the tree, the nearby wood began to go up in a blaze of flame. Whimpers of dismay came from the wolves as they broke for it. Ajax rushed after them, calling for them to return.


    "Um, I think I miscalculated," said Ronald.


    "Get off the tree!" cried Relma.


    They leaped. Relma felt the heat rise up behind her. As she landed, she looked back to see the flames burning ever larger. Scrambling over to Estela, she halted.


    "Well, that''s not good," said Ronald.


    "What did you do?" asked Estela.


    "Started a forest fire," said Ronald. "We''ve got to get out of these woods!"


    "What about the trees and animals?" asked Relma, worried about how this would look later. "The spirits!"


    "They work for Telix," said Estela. "They''re our enemy."


    Relma took her point. They could hardly complain about Relma fighting back. So they rose and ran for one of the few areas not writhed in flames. As they did, the fire spread all around them. Smoke rose up in the air, and the heat grew worse and worse. Relma felt her lungs burning, and sweat dripped down her eyes, stinging them.


    Wiping them away, she saw a bush set ablaze before her. However, Ronald pulled her out.


    "This is no good!" said Ronald. "We''ll never outrun it at this rate!"


    "Mmph!" said Anya fearfully.


    Then, the flames arose in front of them as well. They were trapped and running out of space. "Wonderful plan, Ronald," said Estela. "We were surrounded by bloodthirsty wolves waiting to kill us. Now we''re surrounded by flames that aren''t waiting to kill us! You imbecile!"


    "Waiting..." said Relma. Realization dawned as she saw the obvious solution Aunt Pan had taught her. "Of course!"


    "What?" said Estela.


    "There is a spirit behind everything in nature," said Relma. "Fire is no exception. Aunt Pan taught me that forest fires happen when a fire spirit is awakened." She stepped forward and called out. "Listen to me; I am the Heir to Anoa the Bright! The Heir of Kings!"


    The fires peeled back like the wings of a bird unfolding before them. A great head like an eagle''s was raised with flaring eyes for a moment.


    "...Did that just work?" asked Estela.


    At that moment, the flames formed into the shape of a monstrous, demonic face. It had eyes of blue fire. "You have called me into this world, Relma Artorious. What have you to say?"


    Artorious? Was that her last name?


    "Um, I''d really appreciate it if you could not kill us," said Relma. "We''d like to be opened a path out of the woods."


    "The Heir of Kings makes a request of me?" asked the spirit. "This is a rare thing. For your ancestors invoked me often and gave me fuel of all kinds. Their offerings have ceased since. But in recognition of my friendship with Anoa the Bright, I shall do as you ask."


    "Also, could you not kill anyone?" asked Relma.


    "I have already killed hundreds of woodland creatures," replied the spirit proudly. "And the answer is no. However, I shall see that my flames do not consume any that you consider equals.


    "Now, be gone. You test my patience."


    The face disappeared, and the fires returned to reveal a burnt woodland path. They ran for it.


    "Well, that worked," said Ronald.


    "Yeah," said Relma.


    "How did you bluff a spirit?" asked Estela.


    "Um, I didn''t. I really am the Heir of Kings," said Relma.


    "Of course you are," scoffed Estela. "Let''s just keep moving. We''re almost out of the forest."


    Then they emerged, blinking into a landscape Relma had never seen before. Gel Carn was nowhere in sight.

 Chapter 32 - Ten: The Lord of the Black Dragons

    It was a rocky and barren landscape of rough stones covered in white moss while smoke rose further up. Thankfully, there wasn''t much wind, but the journey was still hard. Relma became aware her boots were wrong for it. Ronald had brought an extra cloak and clothes, but more was needed as they got higher. It led sloping upwards to the knees of the black mountain. Animal bones could be seen here and there, and this place had an aura of desolation.


    Relma didn''t like it and wondered why anyone would live here. She almost wanted to go back into the forest fire. Then she thought better of that idea and wished she were home in bed. It would be nice to be back before this adventure nonsense happened.


    So much for wishing their problems away; it wasn''t an option.


    "This isn''t..." began Ronald. "Where are we?"


    "On the northern edge of the forest, if I have a guess," said Estela.


    "Northern edge?" asked Relma. "But that is in Wrynncurth''s territory."


    "We could go back into the blazing inferno if you want," said Estela.


    "Be serious, Estela," said Relma. "We have to get to Gel Carn. We can wait until the flames die down and then-"


    "Be hunted down by Ajax?" noted Estela.


    "Estela is right, Relma," said Ronald. "We''re going to have to go a bit up and then make our way along the crags."


    "We''ll have to watch out for dragons," said Estela. "Wrynncurth is sure to have sentries flying above."


    "If he does, then some will be coming here soon," said Relma. "They''ll be attracted to the flames. So we should get out of sight."


    "But there is nowhere to hide here," noted Ronald.


    Relma looked up at the barren peaks. Then she noticed some piled stones like a marker. She pointed toward them. "What about those stones. Quick."


    They made for them. As they did, Relma felt the cold seeping into her. This place was cold in a physical sense but also in a spiritual one. She had the feeling that nothing lived here in this place. It was nothing natural anyway.


    Soon, they had gotten behind the stones and found that they were piled in such a way as to make an alcove. Like someone had made them for shelter. But who?


    Either way, they could only be seen from one side like this. And then only if someone looked right at them. They huddled together and stayed close for warmth. Relma put her hands within her sleeves and shuddered.


    "How could it get this cold this quickly?" asked Estela.


    "I don''t know," said Ronald, "but I''ll light a fire. That will warm us up."


    "Someone could follow the smoke right to us," noted Estela.


    "Do you want to freeze to death?" asked Ronald. "No one will notice with all the smoke coming off the fire."


    Sure enough, the fire had spread to the eaves. The flames were now burning brightly, and the smoke rose ever higher. Ronald didn''t bother to make the point again. Instead, he laid out some firewood he had brought and took some out of Estela''s pack. Then he set about making a fire.


    Once it was blazing, he produced a cooking pot and several ingredients. Using some salted meat, I began to cook a meal. Relma realized that she hadn''t eaten anything all day. When the food was done, she wolfed it down with the others.


    "I''ll admit," said Estela, "it was a good idea to bring extra."


    "Mmmph," said Anya, struggling in a corner.


    "Shouldn''t we feed her?" asked Relma.


    "It isn''t that far to Gel Carn," said Estela. "And anyway, she might yell and attract attention."


    "Look at this," said Ronald.


    Relma looked up and saw that he had found something on the far side of the alcove. It was a small hole tunneled into the rock. Through it, she could get a good view of the burning forest. She felt a bit guilty.


    Estela soon was by her.


    "This place must have been made deliberately," said Estela. "We should clean up and move on. Someone may come soon."


    At that moment, a shadow passed over the outside. A gigantic black shape descended to circle around. Soon it came down from the other side and landed in front of the forest.


    "A dragon." realized Ronald. "It''s a black dragon."


    The dragon landed, and Relma felt a bit disappointed. It had looked awe-inspiring and vast when looking at its shadow. But as it turned out, most of that was its now furled wings. The dragon itself couldn''t have been much bigger than a large cow and might have been much smaller.


    "That thing is much smaller than I thought it would be," said Estela.


    "It''s probably a baby dragon," said Relma.


    "No, there are no baby black dragons," said Estela. "I read about this in Father''s library. When a black dragon is killed, they reform at the point of their hoard. Though it takes a while."


    "Then how do they reproduce?" asked Relma.


    "They don''t," said Estela. "I think they are created by Adrian Wrynncurth from black magic or something. But, I don''t know, it was a boring book."


    Then another dragon, much more significant, landed near the smaller one. It nodded to him in respect. "Lord Adrian, what is this? What has caused the fire spirits to arise in new wrath?"


    "I say, it does appear to be a rather large flame, doesn''t it?" said the smaller dragon. "Not the sort I''d like to roast sheep over. Cin''dar must have gotten very out of sorts."


    That was Adrian Wrynncurth? No, it couldn''t be. So it must have been a dragon with the same name. And the title of Lord.


    "What made him angry, Lord Wrynncurth?" asked the larger one.


    "Oh, he''s not angry. He''s just roused," said Adrian. "He''s gotten up in arms on behalf of the person who woke him up."


    "That''s Wrynncurth?" asked Estela. "But he''s supposed to be the largest of all the Black Dragon Flight."


    "He looks huge to me," said Ronald. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Who woke him up?" asked the larger dragon.


    Adrian brought up a four-fingered claw and produced a pipe from within one of his scales. He lit it with a match, thoughtfully looked at the flames, and smoked a draft. "Not at all sure. I''ll have to ask him.


    "Though I wager those ne''er do wells hiding in the alcove might know a thing or two about it." Relma froze. Instantly, they sprinted for the exit. But before they could even reach it, the exit was blocked. Adrian Wrynncurth''s many-toothed face was staring at them. His eyes were flaming green, and he stank of death and decay. It dawned on Relma that although he wasn''t much larger than a cow, cows were huge.


    "I say, you can''t outrun a black dragon on foot, my fine fellows," said Wrynncurth in a cheerful tone. "No one can."


    Estela drew her sword and swung it. Wrynncurth sniffed, and her blade seemed to go right through Wrynncurth. Then Relma saw why.


    Estela''s sword blade had melted into nothing. It would have been absurd if she''d been looking at a picture of this moment. A group of teenagers was cornered by a small dragon with a pipe out of his mouth. As Relma was living it, it was terrifying.


    "That was one of my weaker acids," said Wrynncurth. "Rather proud of it. It can''t be seen and works right quick. I hope you know I could have had you all melting instantly with that. Now drop what''s left of your sword and surrender. I''ll give you a chance to account for yourselves."


    Ronald threw aside his weapon. Estela dropped the haft of what had been her sword.


    "Good," said Wrynncurth. "Now, who are you, and where do you come from?" His gaze turned to Anya. "And why are you holding one of his children captive? I like a good story, but keep it short.


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    "I''ve got a spot of trouble in the forest to address." He motioned with his head.


    "We''re running away from Telix," said Relma. "He kidnapped me, and my friends came to rescue me. So now we''re trying to escape."


    "And I wager that the blaze out there is your doing then, my girl?" mused Adrian.


    Relma shifted beneath his gaze. She had the feeling he already knew the answer. "I tried to talk Cin''dar out of it."


    "What you neglect to mention is that you started the sparks that got him started." Flask of oil over a broken tree branch, eh? Very clever, if destructive."


    "How did you..." began Relma.


    "Well, some people can read people. I can read memories," said Wrynncurth. "Still, you''re a strange one to read. Your memory is very bright. It''d be a challenge reading it, I think.


    "No matter. It''s best to take care of this blaze right quick. I think Cin''dar has had his fun. Anias, escort these fellows out." He blinked and looked at Anya. Then he breathed, and the ropes decayed. At once, the wolf girl charged at Estela, only for Adrian''s tail to be put around her neck. There was a blade at the end. "None of that, my girl. We''ll have no fighting now; I haven''t the time for it."


    Then, he slithered out of the alcove and stood atop it. Relma followed and found her under the gaze of dozens of black dragons. Where had they all come from? None were larger than Anias, who looked down on them.


    Relma glanced to where Adrian was standing in front of an inferno. It looked like a vision out of hell itself. Wrynncurth sat on his haunches and slid the pipe to the side of his mouth. "Down, you spark! No more fuel for you!"


    Then the face returned. It was larger down, burning brighter, and filled with unfathomable hatred. "I am fire. I am heat. I am a thousand charred corpses burning on a thousand battlefields. All who know me fear me, and all who seek to halt my path are consumed by my will.


    "No mere dragon can halt my power."


    "Ah, but I''m not a mere dragon, old chap," said Wrynncurth. "I''ve got living memory of Smyngoth the Greater. I watched him as he curled up and raised the black mountain over him. And I''m in no mood for your nonsense.


    "Be off with you at once, or I''ll see that you''ll never start a flame again."


    "The memory of Smyngoth pales before the power bestowed on me by Anoa the Bright," said Cin''der. "My flames have consumed whole cities. My wrath is the undoing of nations. My gaze alone reduces all things to ashes.


    "Anoa alone could control me. And he is now dead. His heirs are a pale shadow of what he once was."


    "Heirs?" asked Wrynncurth. "What the blazes are you talking about, old chap? Anoa''s heirs fell long, ages ago."


    "They have risen again," said Cin''dar.


    Wrynncurth glanced at Relma. "...Ah, so that was why I couldn''t read her. Thanks for the information, old chap. But this contest has gone on long enough."


    "Fool. I am eternal," said Cin''dar. "I will blaze without relent. My fire shall spread across every forest, every field. The rivers will be quenched and reduced to steam. The seas will boil to nothing. All shall be reduced to ashes and burned from existence."


    The fires rose higher, and all the flames in the forest seemed to be mustering. A wave of flame shot toward Wrynncurth, who took his pipe out of his mouth. Instantly, the fire stopped.


    Wrynncurth sighed. "You are a rather aggressive fellow, aren''t you? No matter. Do give my regards to Anoa, wherever he is."


    Then he unfurled his wings and beat them. A wave of wind was unleashed from them. As he did, Wrynncurth and the other dragons spewed a wave of acid. The winds became a vortex that pulled the flames into it, quenching them in moments. Yet Cin''dar roared, and the fires burned anew upon the air itself. An ocean of sparks appeared, battling with the wind and acid.


    "I cannot be contained forever! All shall burn beneath my gaze!" cried Cin''dar. "Your every effort... only... prolongs... the... inevitable..."


    Then he was gone.


    "Why was Anoa friends with him?" asked Estela after a moment.


    "Father often has to work with people he doesn''t like," said Ronald. "Sometimes, he even pretends to be friends with them."


    "Well, now, that changes things, doesn''t it," said Wrynncurth. He put the pipe back in his mouth and turned to them. "I thought there was something strange about the way you thought. You''ve got the blood of Elranor in you. That shifts your thinking.


    "If it is your desire, I shall gladly return you to Gel Carn."


    Relma blinked. "Why?"


    "When I gave Telix permission to kidnap women for his broods, I only told him not to seize nobles," said Wrynncurth. "I suppose it never occurred to him that he might be kidnapping a Heir of Kings."


    "Why are you letting him kidnap people in the first place?" asked Relma.


    "Well, he does need people to populate his new domain," said Wrynncurth. "And since they struck first, I feel justified in striking back. Unfortunately, it''ll be a long time before the dragon they killed will reform. In the meantime, I''ll have to assign someone to guard his hoard. Most inconvenient."


    "That''s hard on the people you''re kidnapping," said Relma.


    "Well, yes. I suppose it is. But they are commoners, so they are worth far less than that of a noble," mused Wrynncurth. "And a noble is worth far less than the life of a single black dragon. So it evens out."


    "They probably don''t see it that way," noted Relma.


    "Well then, it is fortunate that their opinion doesn''t matter," said Wrynncurth. "Now climb aboard my back; I will carry you to Gel Carn. Anias Celcorn carries the other two. We''ll have to be off soon."


    "Wait!" said Anya. "These four are prisoners of my father, Telix. You must return them at once."


    "I think not, my girl," said Wrynncurth. "Keeping the Heir of Kings prisoner is the sort of thing which provokes wars. It is best for all involved if we negotiate an end to things now that we have what we want.


    "One of your children was killed," said Anya.


    "Yes, and he''ll be very annoyed when he comes back. Likely has to replace part of his hoard. And hunt the ones who took it," said Wrynncurth. "For now, he''s dead, and we blacks don''t much concern ourselves with the dead. It is much better to focus on the living. I''ll have you escorted back to Telix at once. Tell him this business, with the Heir of Kings, is getting a bit risky for my tastes."


    "I will tell my Father your words. But he will not be pleased," said Anya.


    Well, that is a risk we all take when making decisions," said Wrynncurth. "Now come, Relma, onto my back. We have much work to do."


    "So, you''re not angry? asked Relma.


    "On the contrary, my dear girl," said Wrynncurth in a cheerful tone. "I''m positively blind with fury. To have some of my subject''s money stolen is the highest possible insult I could sustain. I considered burning Gel Carn down and killing everyone inside, but I decided against it.


    "Not good business, you understand. I could crush them as naturally as breathing. But then the economy would all fall apart. That would make it harder to increase the size of my hoard. And, of course, the Harlenorian Kingdoms would take burning down Gel Carn personally. We''d have crusades and dragon slayers and all that nonsense.


    "No, better to let Telix have some fun to make a point. Now, come along, all of you. We''d best be off. I''m sure Pandora and Arengeth are anything but pleased you are gone."

 Chapter 33 - Eleven: A History of Dragons

    Flying was amazing. It was so impressive that Relma forgot how dangerous everything had been moments before. The wind whipped through her hair, the sight of the land far below them. It was beyond anything she had felt.


    Of course, the land soon became hard to make out with the dying light. A blur of dark shapes far below. But she liked the feeling of being so high. Estela and Ronald did not share her glee. Both were clinging to Wrynncurth''s spines, their cloaks flowing behind them. Neither looked happy. And they certainly weren''t looking down.


    Relma sighed. She had far less heavy clothes than them and wasn''t complaining.


    Eventually, the thrill wore off, and Relma began to think about things. Questions occurred to her, and she realized she might never get a chance to answer them. She may have waited for the end of the trip. "Wrynncurth, can I ask you something?"


    "You may ask," said Wrynncurth.


    "Um... aren''t you small for a dragon?" said Relma. She felt like she was asking something sensitive. She could have phrased it better.


    "No," said Wrynncurth, tone cheerful as always. "Though once I would have been for my kind."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma. He sounded cheerful, but that didn''t mean anything. He always stated cheerfully. But was he?


    "Before Smyngoth began his eternal sleep, there were three dragon flights," said Wrynncurth. "The red. The silver. And the golden."


    "What about the black flight?" asked Relma. She had the feeling she had just asked a stupid question.


    "I was just getting to that, my girl," said Wrynncurth. "Now you see, the dragons had a tradition that every few hundred years, they changed kings. This was to ensure that things did not wholly stagnate."


    "We mortals usually just wait for our kings to die," noted Relma. Idiot, Wrynncurth already knew that.


    "A fair system," said Wrynncurth. He didn''t sound perturbed. But you could never tell. "Unfortunately, it wouldn''t work for us. We have the dubious honor of never growing old. Thus, the rotation of kings, as all the flights called it.


    "Alchara, the Dreaming Goddess, and Laevian were involved in the lines of succession. Each King had to be approved by both of them. As it turned out, Alchara had plans to unify the flights under one leader. She created a breeding program, intent on gaining the powers of all three dragons. Eventually, she succeeded. She produced a dragon with the bloodlines of all three royal families."


    "Royal families?" asked Relma. "I thought you rotated kings." This sounded a little sick.


    "Well, yes," said Wrynncurth. "Traditionally, the next King would mate with one of the children of his predecessor. This ensured they had only one core bloodline.


    "Anyway, Alchara managed to maneuver her new creature into a position of power. He was made King of both the Gold and the Red flights. However, Smyngoth convinced his fellow silver dragons to defy Alchara. They maintained their independence."


    "Wait, you just said that Smyngoth was a black dragon," said Relma.


    "He was silver at the time," said Wrynncurth. "At any rate, Alchara can''t stand things that aren''t under her control. So she started trying to pressure the silvers into yielding control to her. In the process, her creature extended his tenure over red and gold flights. Several times, actually.


    "This got some of the reds and golds mad. And Smyngoth made plans with them to overthrow the King of All Dragons, as he named himself."


    "How did that work out?" asked Relma.


    "Well, it was a complicated and messy business, to be sure," said Wrynncurth. "You remember the era for your own heroes part in it. Anoa the Bright was Elranor''s champion."


    "How did Elranor fit into things?" asked Relma.


    "Well, Elranor was part of an elaborate series of alliances," said Wrynncurth. "One of many. Nice enough, chap. At the time, no one expected him to amount to much. Championing hairless apes and all that.


    "But his policy has been vindicated by history.


    "There was a vast war. Both sides were decimated. The high elf empires fell, while the dust elves were severely weakened. The goblins were exterminated. Humans became the dominant power by breeding faster. Then, of course, the satyrs came out of the woodwork, and there were a series of other conflicts.


    "One war leads to another, as they say."


    "But what has this got to do with you being smaller?" asked Relma.


    "Well, Smyngoth killed the King of All Dragons," said Wrynncurth. "And then, to ensure that nothing like this ever happened again, he killed all his children. Then, he tried to exterminate the red and golden royal families. Nasty business, but it had to be done to foil Alchara''s plans.


    "Anyway, Alchara was always a sore loser. And a sore winner. She cursed Smyngoth and all his offspring to become shadows of what we once were. Smaller, weaker, and no longer beautiful. By Alchara''s standards anyway, beauty is in the eye of the beholder."


    "So you were a silver dragon once?" asked Relma.


    "Gracious no," said Wrynncurth. "All the original children of Smyngoth are long since dead. They didn''t survive the transformation. I was his youngest. Alchara made it easy on me."


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    "Why was that?" asked Relma.


    "Oh, the usual sort of sadism," said Wrynncurth. "She wanted someone to live as an eternal reminder of Smyngoth''s folly. Rather, it didn''t work out for her. It must make her furious seeing the black flight repopulated.


    "And what did the Dreaming Goddess and Laevian do about this?" asked Relma.


    "Oh, well, the Dreaming Goddess was taken out of the picture to save the High Elven race," said Wrynncurth. "Rather a waste. And she''d never been as strong as Alchara or Laevian. Laevian had been losing ground for years and threw in with Elranor.


    "Worked out rather well for her."


    "Who was your mother?" asked Relma.


    "I didn''t have one," said Wrynncurth. "We dragons produce eggs on our own, without needing a mate. Smyngoth taught me many spells. And my brothers and sisters as well." He paused.


    "You said the dragon flight kings mated with their predecessor''s children," said Relma.


    "Well, yes," said Wrynncurth, "a mate is a good thing to have. It allows you to take the strengths of another dragon and add them to your own in your children. If you produce eggs without mating, the result will probably be weaker than yourself.


    "Though we black dragons don''t produce eggs at all. Alchara ensured I could not have children. Or she tried to.


    "My children were created by spellwork. As my brothers and sisters died, I trapped their souls in gems. I then used the life force of thousands of animals to create their bodies. Then, I implanted the souls of my brothers and sisters into them. Of course, the bodies were a bit unstable; holding a soul is tricky. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "So I tied the soul to precious metals. Gold is the best. Thus, I could recreate my family in a new form."


    "So you''re a necromancer," said Relma. She didn''t know which one was more terrifying. What Wrynncurth had done, or a matter of fact, the cheerful way he talked about it.


    "Well, I suppose one could consider us undead," said Wrynncurth. "I don''t like putting magic into different categories. And if you must, the Magicora method has the most weight." He stopped.


    "What''s the Magicora method?" asked Relma.


    "According to the mages of Magicora, there are three schools of magic," said Wrynncurth. "Demonic, divine, and spiritual. Demonic power comes from pacts demons. The power of the divine is bestowed on a person by the gods. Spiritual magic requires an understanding of spirits.


    "What I do is technically demonic. But it also has aspects of the spiritual."


    "Don''t you think," Relma paused as she considered how politely put it? "Wouldn''t it have been kinder to let your brothers and sisters be reincarnated?"


    "I could," said Wrynncurth. "But then I would have given Alchara the satisfaction of winning. And it would have accepted god''s verdict. And I shall do neither, even if I would be better off."


    "So you''re motivated by spite then," said Relma.


    "Exactly!" said Wrynncurth. "Arengeth believes that great evil comes about because of dark lords on high thrones. But I think that the real thing that causes excellent evil is simpler.


    "Petty acts of meanness that sew hatred and discord. Tiny seeds that grow into the end of whole civilizations.


    "Alchara wanted to end Father''s bloodline. But we have persevered. We have done away with the shackles of reincarnation and created our own cycle of rebirth. We have cast aside the limitations set upon us by the gods and become our own gods.


    "We have achieved mastery over the physical. Soon, we shall ascend beyond that. The secrets of the soul shall be laid bare. Thus, I will find a way to create souls! Then, nothing shall be beyond us!


    "The black dragons shall spread across every nation, every plane of existence! Every world shall be populated! Every knee shall bow! None shall be beyond our reach!


    "And once we may create souls, we will have the power to destroy them! The elven gods shall die, a second and permanent death beyond the recall of all magic! Even their place in the past shall be gone! All shall bow before Smyngoth! Smyngoth Spellweaver! Smyngoth is a maker of languages! SMYNGOTH THE ETERNAL!!"


    The roar of Wrynncurth was deafening. Relma nearly lost her grip on the spines as darkness fell over the world.


    "Still, that''s all very long-term," said Wrynncurth. "Our population has an upward limit. We can only have as many black dragons as I had family members."


    "If you can''t create new souls, how can you outnumber the other flights?" asked Relma. Wrynncurth was obviously far less sane than he appeared.


    "Well, I had many brothers and sisters," said Wrynncurth. "And the reds have deliberately controlled their own population. So they only have more children to replace losses or to set up as the Lord of a new region. Or at least that''s what they were doing the last time I chatted with Vanessa. Though that was over a thousand years ago.


    "Meanwhile, the golds are far, far to the east. Most of them were wiped out. Actually, there was only one left when Smyngoth was through with them. Father always loathed the species. "They''ve been building their way back to a sustainable population. But they won''t outnumber us for a long time yet. And by then, it will be too late to stop us. So when Father comes out of the mountain, he''ll see his children the greatest of all flights."


    "Why did he raise the mountain over himself anyway?" asked Relma.


    "Much like myself, Father was in constant agony because of the curse," said Wrynncurth. "I have lived with it most of my days, and my children have lived with it as long as they existed. So we need to find out the difference. But he was pained.


    "I believe he stayed where he was until he could ensure his line would not die out. Then he went into his slumber. Someday, however, he will rise again and bring about the end of Alchara. "I hope I''m there."


    Suddenly, Wrynncurth dove downwards, beating his wings. Below them, Relma now saw Gel Carn. The castle shifted somewhat. It now looked more forlorn. Less significant. The forest was still below them, but Wrynncurth flew downwards and landed by the eaves. Some of the trees were burnt and charred.


    "This is horrible," said Relma.


    "Oh, forest fires happen now and again," said Wrynncurth. "No sense in showing concern once you''re out of the blaze.


    "At any rate, here is where I will set you down. Going any further in will be risking the arrows of the men of Gel Carn. There is a fortified village over there you can no doubt gain further directions from." He motioned with one wing as they got off.


    Sure enough, there was a village. It was surrounded by a palisade of stakes, and several men had bows on it. Yet no alarm had been sounded. Wrynncurth had slipped down here, within walking distance of the village at night. And no one had even noticed.


    Relma shuddered to think what might happen if he went to war. He could have burned that whole village in moments. Or could Aunt Pan and Aren stop them?


    "Thank you, Adrian," said Relma. "Thank you so much."


    "Oh, no trouble at all, my dear," said Wrynncurth. "It will be a shame if it comes to war. I may accidentally burn you with acid. Farewell."


    Then he took to the skies and flew away with marvelous speed.


    Estela was shuddering, and Ronald looked less than enthusiastic. Relma looked at them. "Why don''t you guys cheer up? We got home, didn''t we?"


    "Shut up," said Estela. "That sword was a gift from my father."


    "And I borrowed the other from the armory," said Ronald.


    "Can we just get to safety?" asked Relma. "Ajax might still be prowling around."


    They walked toward the village in stony silence.

 Chapter 34 - Twelve: A Generation Early

    They made their way quickly toward the village, surrounded by a wall of stone. The roofs were shingled, and men were on watch with bows. The windows in the buildings were mainly on the higher levels and narrow, placed to let in the light of the sun as it rose and fell. It was much warmer here. A day ago, it would have been chilly for summer. But after the life-sapping surroundings of Adrian''s domain, nothing seemed warmer. It was odd how a few adventures changed how you thought.


    "Finally, we''re back in civilization and safety," said Ronald.


    "Civilization, perhaps. Not sure about safety," said Estela. "There''s the inn. I''ve drunk good ale there. We''ll see what we can find."


    They approached the gates of the village, and Estela banged on them. "Open the gates, will you?! Open them!" Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    There was a long pause. Then, a slot slid aside to reveal an elderly woman clad in chainmail. She looked at them with narrowed eyes. "Who is it?"


    "It''s Estela and Ronald," said Estela. "We came here before. Remember?"


    "Estela?" the old woman blinked. "Squire Estela? Well, this is a surprise. When you entered the woods, I thought we''d never see you again. Much less that you''d come back with your friend in tow.


    "There have been quite a few lights in the forest this week."


    "That''s somewhat our fault," said Relma. "Can we come in?"


    "Of course, of course." said the woman. "We''ve had enough disappearances without you disappearing as well." She opened the postern, and they slipped in.


    "We actually know what is happening to the girls," said Relma. "I barely escaped."


    "You do?" asked the woman. "Well, if that''s the case, you''d best tell the story in the common room of the Coiled Serpent Inn. We''ve got some people here. Pandora the Sorceress herself at that."


    "Aunt Pan is here?" asked Relma. "I''ve seen her!"


    As they made their way through the town, Relma noticed the buildings were blackened. They hadn''t been burned but melted. This must have been where the dragon attacked before.


    The Coiled Serpent Inn was a large, three-story building that loomed over the others. It had open windows, letting out a golden light. Relma looked at the coiled, golden serpent on the sign.


    "Not the most friendly emblem, is it?" she asked.


    "Orn, the innkeeper, his ancestors fought on the side of House Gabriel. During the Escorian Civil war, I mean," said Estela. "During the purges, they were forced to flee. House Vortegex helped them and many others escape those bloodsucking De Chevlons.


    They keep the symbol as a mark of pride. So come on, let''s get a drink and celebrate. I''ve got plenty of coins.


    They opened the door and came into a bustling standard room. Several villagers were speaking with one another over tables. Most of them carried knives, Relma noted. That hadn''t been the practice in the inns she''d seen back in the domain of Ronald''s Father.


    A balding man came forward. Orn, Relma presumed. "Good evening, young ladies. And Lady Estela. How can I be of service to you on this fine day?"


    "I''ll have the usual," said Estela. "And get something weaker for my friends here."


    "I''ll have what Estela is having," said Relma.


    "You''ll have what I say you should have," said Aunt Pan as she approached. She kneeled by Relma. "Relma, what are you doing all the way out here? And Ronald, too? Why did you follow me here?"


    "We didn''t exactly follow you," admitted Relma.


    "You''d best explain. Innkeeper, bring us a hot meal," said Aunt Pan. "I will speak to my niece." Explaining the situation could have been more comfortable. As Relma did, Aunt Pan looked furious, though not at her. "You were kidnapped? How could Father have let something like that happen! The old fool! I told him to be careful, but his wits clearly fail with age!


    "How did you get away?"


    "I escaped," said Relma. "Or rather, I almost escaped. I would have been turned into a werewolf if Estela hadn''t come by at the last minute."


    "Well, then something came of her venture, at least," said Pandora. "But, they would have turned you into a werewolf?"


    "No, a werewolf is a mortal who becomes a wolf when the moon is full," said Estela. "What Relma is talking about is something else. Maybe a wolfman. Or part man, part wolf. Let''s call it a manwolf."


    "A werewolf is a fusion of man and wolf," said Aunt Pan. "That''s it. The details can be anything."


    "Well, then we need better clarity of language," said Estela.


    "Enough," said Pan, "Relma, do you know why this Ajax kidnapped you?"


    "It''s complicated," said Relma. "You see, Telix is trying to create a new kingdom. First, he turned the outlaws that once lived in the forest into part of his brood. Now he is kidnapping young maidens to transform them into his own kind."


    "I see. You did well to bring this to me," said Pan. "I will deal with Telix myself in due time.


    "For now, you''d better tell me all the details."


    Relma told Pan everything she knew. Pan then asked Estela and Ronald for an account of things. Estela did most of the talking, exaggerating the details. As she did, Aunt Pan looked increasingly worried. Eventually, she set a hand on Relma''s shoulder. "Relma, I''d like to speak to you to one side."


    Relma allowed herself to be led away to a table in the corner. There Pan sat down and looked at her hard. "What is it, Aunt Pan?"


    "Did anything happen while you were with Ajax?" asked Pan.


    "A lot of things happened," said Relma, slightly defensive.


    "I think we both know what I''m asking, dear," said Pan.


    "We made violent love, and now I am carrying his child," said Relma.


    "I am very serious, dear," said Pan.


    Relma sighed. "No, Aunt Pan. Nothing happened. Telix was very big on choice. He gave all of the women who he captured the chance to leave. After, he used magic to enchant them. But he had led the ones who managed to refuse him out of the forest."


    "I doubt they made it out of the forest alive," said Pan. "Telix is a demon and the son of the worst demon. There is no mercy in him. "


    Relma thought of Marsha. If Pan was right, she and the other girls were probably dead. "I hope you''re wrong."


    "I do as well," admitted Pan. "No matter. You should all get some rest. I''ll escort you all back to Gel Carn soon enough."


    "Weren''t you going to meet with Telix?" asked Relma.


    "We are far beyond negotiations at this stage," said Pan. "Benarus has started to gather his forces for war. Besides, your safety is important."


    "But what about all the people here?" asked Relma.


    "I''ll be helping them by going back," said Pan. "There will be a war; I''m certain of that now. What we need to do is prepare for it."


    "But Aunt Pan, Adrian helped us get back," said Relma. "If we go to war, the black dragons will side with Telix! I''ve seen them in action! They spit acid and can dissolve metal. And they move with incredible stealth."


    "We have more than one way to fight with the black dragons," said Pan. "If Adrian chooses to support Telix, then he''s against us.


    "Do you understand?"


    Relma remained silent for a long moment. Finally, she realized there was only one answer she could make. One that was acceptable anyway. Even if it was untrue. "Yes, Aunt Pan."


    "Good," said Pan. "Now, I''ll make arrangements for your rooms. You''ll bathe, and then you''ll go to bed early."


    "I want to talk to some of the other-" began Relma.


    "Now, Relma," said Pan. "I will take you to our room."


    Relma looked over to where Estela and Ronald were recounting their adventures. There was a reasonably large crowd around them now. Aunt Pan never let her do anything fun. "I understand."


    The following day, Relma awoke to great fanfare out the windows. Looking out of them, she saw a column of heavily armored men marching. They had large shields and clutched heavy spears. Their helms hid their faces. Above their ranks, they bore a green banner with the symbol of a golden sword surrounded by lightning.


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    She dressed and rushed downstairs to find Estela and Ronald already up. "What''s going on?"


    "Steward Benarus has brought his troops out," said Estela. "Lord Marn is leading them. More soldiers are coming from the surrounding lands."


    "Father will be coming soon as well," said Ronald.


    "Whose idea was it to gather a huge army?" asked Relma.


    "That was me, my dear girl." said a familiar voice.


    Relma froze and looked up. She saw Aren sitting in one corner, smoking a pipe. How long had he been there? "Aren, what''s going on?"


    "Well, as soon as I realized that Telix was at work, I judged we''d need reinforcements," said Aren. "That was why I wasn''t able to help you against Ajax. I should have left some wards but didn''t anticipate Telix knowing your identity. Or even of you."


    And then Aunt Pan came down the stairs. "Father? Just what have you been doing? Why did you allow Relma to be kidnapped!"


    Aren took his pipe out of his mouth and sighed. "I didn''t allow anything. I met with Benarus, and then I left as a bird. I''ve been working for days to get help down here quickly.


    "Speaking of help, here it is."


    The door opened, and Lord Marn entered. He looked in a bad mood as he approached. "Arengeth, Pandora, I came as you requested. We''ve had a devil of a time getting the troops together."


    "We appreciate the effort," said Aren. "Things are on the verge of escalating into full-scale war. If we can''t convince Adrian to withdraw support for Telix, we''ll fight black dragons."


    "I''ve fought dragons before," said Marn.


    "True, but those were golden," said Aren. "Black dragons are of a very different sort. Much faster, and they can fly."


    "Different or no, we''ll handle them," said Argath. "I''ve developed some plans to deal with them." He looked to Tanith and then outside to his troops. "Before all this happened, I was planning to head for Artarq. Then, with things escalating, I thought I ought to fight the Calishans on their own shore. But fighting werewolves is just as well."


    "Man wolves," said Estela.


    Argath glanced up in surprise. "Well, you''re welcome to call them whatever you wish."


    At that moment, Tanith entered the inn as well. She was wearing full armor that must have been enchanted to look golden. Her two swords were by her side. "Lord Argath, I''ve finished scouting, and we''re being watched." Her fingers clenched around her sword, and Relma realized her hands were shaking. But a smile was on her face. "The wolves are in the trees all over. From the looks of things, we won''t be taking anybody by surprise this time."


    "Wonderful," said Argath. "Set up a sentry to keep watch and ensure no one rushes in. Our enemies are wolves and half-wolves. So they will know the forest better than we do. Then, once we''ve made a plan of attack, we''ll make arrangements."


    "Yes, sir," said Tanith.


    "Who is this, Argath?" asked Aren. "I don''t believe we''ve met."


    Argath looked nervously at Tanith, then to Aren. "Ah, this is my protege, Tanith. She came into my service during some raids and is a great soldier. She may become one of the best someday.


    "Tanith, this is Pandora and Gail Argengeth. I told you of them earlier, did I not?"


    "Yes, I remember," said Tanith, looking at them in disdain. "Rusara doesn''t like you very much."


    "You''ve met Rusara?" asked Aren.


    "She visited Carn Gable quite often," said Tanith.


    "Then you were trained in the service of House Gabriel," said Aren. "You keep odd company, Argath."


    "Well, if it''s any consolation, they don''t particularly like you either," said Tanith.


    "When you live as long as I do, you come to disregard the opinions of petty power mongers," said Aren.


    "No wonder you never get anything done," said Tanith.


    "Enough," said Argath. "Tanith, if you can''t be civil, you can start relaying the orders I''ve given."


    Tanith nodded. "As you wish, sir."


    Then she left.


    Argath watched her go. "The girl was raised in the company of House Gabriel, but she''s a true Harlenorian nonetheless. I''m trying to break her out of some of their bad habits, but it shows through."


    "Your never-ending efforts to redeem the lost inspire us all, Argath," said Aren.


    "Well, one does one''s best," said Argath with a slight smile. "Now, perhaps we should get down to business. How would you recommend we play this? Invade the forest directly? Or wait for them to come to us?"


    "That is the problem, isn''t it?" asked Aren. "I''ve been considering things. And I don''t think we''ll be able to get a victory without a massive cost. If we stay out here, Adrian Wrynncurth could burn us with acid. Under the trees, we''d have some shielding. But it would also leave us exposed to ambush."


    "Surely, your magic could help," said Argath.


    "A great deal," said Aren. "In fact, without them, Telix would be unstoppable. But I do not like the idea of either waiting to have acid rained down on us or venturing into a dark wood to be eaten by wolves.


    "We must find an alternative, one that is less costly.


    "Perhaps the spirit of the wood could be turned against Telix through... methods."


    "Aren, I don''t think that will work," said Relma.


    "Why not?" asked Aren, looking up.


    "When I was a prisoner, I tried to talk him into helping me escape," said Relma. "But he said he was loyal to Wrynncurth and through him, Telix."


    "Then he''ll work against us," Aren sighed. "I''ll have to get in contact with some of the woodsmen. With their help, navigating the wood would be somewhat easier."


    "We can''t fight them," said Relma.


    "Have you been paying attention, girl?" asked Argath.


    "No, but... look, many of the people serving Telix aren''t there by choice," said Relma. "He bent them to his will using magic and then transformed them. We should be trying to help them, not killing them."


    "They are likely already lost," said Pan.


    "That doesn''t mean we shouldn''t try!" said Relma.


    "And what would you suggest?" asked Aren.


    Relma paused. She thought about every old story she''d ever read about. Everything. And slowly, it all began to fit together. Finally, the answer was in front of her. "What about Lightning Trail?"


    "Lightning Trail?" asked Argath. "What does that have to do with anything?"


    " Lightning Trail is the Blade of Freedom," said Relma. "One of its powers is to negate the will of demons. Or that was what many of the old stories used to say."


    "Not any stories I heard," muttered Argath.


    "It was also blessed by the spirits of the land," said Relma. "They swore to serve the wielder. If someone could draw it, then perhaps-"


    "No one has drawn Lightning Trail since Anoa IX was killed by Baltoth in an ambush," said Argath. "And even if someone could be found to draw it, it''s in the middle of Adrian''s territory. So it would be a suicide mission."


    "Let me try then!" said Relma. "I''m not doing any good here-"


    "Enough, Relma," said Aren. "We won''t speak of this now."


    "But-" began Relma.


    "Enough," said Aren. "Forgive the girl, Argath. She recently escaped from Telix''s clutches. Pan, please explain things."


    For the second time, Aunt Pan took Relma to one side. "Listen to me, Relma. You are not worthy to wield that blade. You might never be respected. And even if you were, the time could be better for it. The way must be cleared, which will take a long time.


    "The Dukes and Barons and Kings of Harlenor divided may claim they are devoted. But they won''t yield to someone just because they drew the sword. It will take many years of preparation-"


    "People are going to die, Aunt Pan," said Relma. "What if I can save them? Lightning Trail could free all the people whom Telix took control of. It could turn the forest against him."


    Pan looked at Relma with narrowed eyes. "One day, Relma, you may play a part in the creation of Harlenor Reunited. But that day is far from here. So now you three will go back to your room.


    "We have work to do."


    So, they were dismissed. Estela and Ronald didn''t seem to mind, which made it worse. Relma sat on her bed, looking at the floor. The story was over. It was all out of her hands.


    She didn''t like feeling powerless like this.


    A lot of people were going to die if she didn''t do anything. But what could she do?


    "It isn''t so bad, Relma. Aren and your aunt Pan can handle all this," said Ronald. "They''ve been handling this kind of thing for ages."


    "Yes, but we''ve dropped out of the story," noted Estela.


    "What do you mean?" asked Ronald.


    "We''re just going to be a footnote in what goes on out there," said Estela. "A minor side story."


    "Who cares about that? We''re safe, and now things will work out," said Ronald.


    "If Telix doesn''t win, you mean," said Estela.


    "Do you have to ruin everything, Estela?" asked Ronald.


    "What? We Vortegex''s have a long history of coping with defeat," said Estela. "It is always possible to lose a battle, no matter how one-sided. That was the lesson of the Escorian Civil War. And this one isn''t one-sided.


    "Hey, Relma, do you think Telix might win? If he beats Argath, he''ll probably lay siege to Gel Carn. After that, we''ll get called up to do battle.


    "I don''t know," admitted Relma.


    Then something took hold of her. Something urged her to stand and walk to the door. "I''m going to take a walk."


    Her walk did not lead her out of the inn but further into it. As she walked, she came to Aunt Pan''s room. She wondered why she was here. Then, raising a hand to knock, she heard a voice.


    "I hope you''re pleased with yourself, Father," said Pan.


    "I am very pleased, to be honest," said Aren.


    "You''ve put it into Relma''s head that she''s going to be queen one day," said Pan. "Ever since you revealed things to her, she''s been trying to make herself stand out."


    "The pursuit of glory is a natural inclination for young people. It''s healthy," said Aren.


    "No, it isn''t!" said Pan. "How many villages have we seen burned down by young knights lusting for glory? How many kingdoms have fallen? And all because people like Anoa the Bright wanted to make themselves a name!"


    "Quite a few, I''d wager," said Aren. "It doesn''t change the fact that the drive to excel is not a bad thing. Though it can be put to bad use. The point is there wouldn''t be any kingdoms if nobody were ambitious."


    "Stop dodging the issue, Father!" said Pan.


    "The girl needed to know sooner or later," said Aren.


    "No, she didn''t!" snapped Pan. "Relma was never supposed to become Queen! We''re a generation too early! She''s not the important one! It''s her son we need! Her son!"


    Relma froze.


    Then she turned and walked away. That was it, wasn''t it? All this time, Relma had been wrong. She''d assumed the secretive nature of things had been to disguise some great destiny. But it hadn''t been. They''d been hiding that she was just another link in the chain.


    She could have gone her entire life without knowing and still fulfilled her purpose. To have a child who would get all the glory and honor. While she would just be a footnote.


    It suddenly seemed ridiculous to her. She''d thought her blood made her essential. But all those ancient bloodlines returning to prominence were only the end of the story. Instead, they focused on the lucky bastard at the end of the chain, the one who got to be king. The one who was hailed as a hero.


    While everyone before them was nothing. Less than nothing. History left off with the last reigning king and picked up with the return.


    To hell with that.


    Relma stalked up to Estela and Ronald''s door and pulled it open. "Pack your things; we''re going."


    "What do you mean we''re going?" asked Ronald.


    "Aunt Pan and Aren think I''m no good," said Relma. "Well, I''ll show them. I''ll draw Lightning Trail myself and make them see."


    Estela blinked. "All right. Let''s go, Ronald."


    "What?" said Ronald. "But we can''t just up and leave."


    "We can, and we are," said Relma. "Now, let''s get our stuff together."


    "Come on, Ronald," said Estela. "If we find Lightning Trail, we''ll have a story. People might forget about that sword we lost. We just have to get there."


    "That''s the hard part, though, isn''t it," said Ronald. "I''m not going."


    "Please, Ronald," said Relma. "I have to do this."


    "Why do you have to do this?" asked Ronald.


    Relma hesitated. "Because... because Aunt Pan just wants me to have a child and use him for something. As far as she''s concerned, my whole reason for living is to have a child. That''s why she never taught me anything. I was just supposed to be the bridge in the gap between one generation and the next.


    "I want to be more than that. But she''ll never let me do it on my own."


    Ronald remained silent. "...Fine. I''ll help you. But we won''t rush off in the middle of the day. And if we survive, no more adventures."


    "Thanks, Ronald, you''re the best," said Relma.


    "Now come on. We''ve got to get together some equipment," said Ronald. "I still have my pack, but Relma will need one. And also a weapon."


    "We could snag some from the armory tent," said Estela.


    "We are not stealing," said Ronald.


    "Fine," said Estela, "I''ll buy what we need, and then we''ll get going.


    "We should prepare during the day and leave at night."


    "Good," said Relma. "Thanks a lot."


    "What are we going to do instead?" asked Estela. "Just go home?"


    Ronald stalked out, muttering to himself.

 Chapter 35 - Thirteen: Into the Hills

    Preparations took the whole day. Fortunately, Pan and Aren were planning with Marn for most of it. So they were able to gather supplies freely. Finally, when darkness began to fall, they made their final preparations. Despite Ronald''s objections, Estela somehow got her hands on another sword. She''d also called Relma a dagger.


    "Shouldn''t we leave a note for your aunt?" asked Ronald.


    "No," said Relma. "Why should I?"


    "She''ll be worried," said Ronald.


    "She can be worried for all I care," said Relma. She had not gotten any less angry. Relma was supposed to be just one more link in a chain of nameless people.


    People who would never achieve anything or be remembered at all.


    People like her Father and Mother were only necessary because of how they related to Relma. And if Relma didn''t act now, she''d only be known in how she said to her son. She''d be some pathetic Mother who died or was incorruptible and kindhearted. She never did anything extraordinary.


    Relma could see it now. Some curly-haired blue-eyed brat asking stupid questions of Aunt Pandora. Doing exactly as he was told and fulfilling his role.


    Never.


    Relma was chosen by Anoa.


    She was the Heir of Kings. Whether Pandora wanted it or not.


    "Relma, if she thinks you''ve been kidnapped again, she might try and invade," said Ronald. "People could get killed. So we need to leave a note."


    It was a good point.


    "Fine," said Relma. "Estela, can I dictate to you?"


    "Yes," said Estela.


    "I could do it," said Ronald.


    "You could, but I asked Estela," said Relma.


    Estela took out a quill and paper that Ronald had bought earlier, probably for this purpose. She set out some ink and dipped a quill, then looked up.


    "Dear Aunt Pan,


    "I am not your brood mother. I am going to be King. When you read this, I will be halfway to Lightning Trail.


    "Go to hell.


    "Love,


    "Relma."


    Estela wrote it out quickly. Ronald stared. "...You sure you don''t want to try it again."


    "Not really. I''d like to see the look on her face," said Relma. "Let''s go."


    They slipped out of the inn. As they walked, they found a house in which Marn had placed command. They could see through an upper window Aunt Pan speaking with Aren.


    "What do you suppose they''re talking about?" asked Ronald.


    "Something about destiny," said Relma. "I don''t really care."


    Soon, they reached the gate and found it guarded. As they approached, they found Tanith leaning beneath the gatehouse. She was smiling, speaking with another guard. Then she glanced up as they came.


    "Hold where you are. Where are you going?" asked Tanith.


    "We''re going out for a walk," said Relma. "That''s all."


    "Sure, you are." scoffed Tanith. "Carrying equipment for a week-long journey. "I''m on the watch to make sure the werewolves-"


    "Man wolves," said Estela.


    "-werewolves don''t go hunting people," said Tanith. "No one is supposed to be out at night. It''s suicide.


    "We''re only taking a short walk," said Relma. "And we''ll be-"


    "Tanith," said Estela, "get out of our way."


    "I have," said Tanith. Not moving an inch. "The way back is behind you. Marn wants to keep a leash on you three."


    "Leash?" said Estela, hand going for her sword.


    "Or a chain. Whichever you prefer," said Tanith.


    Estela drew her sword. But even as she did so, Tanith''s two blades came out and knocked it from her hand. One of them was at her throat.


    "You don''t really think your rank makes you anywhere near me, do you?" asked Tanith. "Get out of here." She kicked the sword to Estela.


    "Estela, come on," said Relma. "We can''t start a fight here." S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    Estela grabbed the sword, and they retreated. As they walked, Ronald led them forward. It seemed that things were over already. Still, no one was following them. Tanith seemed entirely satisfied to remain behind.


    She probably wouldn''t care at all if they got eaten by werewolves. Just so long as she didn''t get the blame for it. Tanith was such a horrible person.


    "We''ll go over the wall. Okay?" said Relma.


    "Do you know anything about climbing?" asked Estela.


    "Well, not really," admitted Relma. "But I''m sure it can''t be that hard."


    "Not to worry. I have a rope and grapple for just such an occasion," said Ronald. He drew them out of his pack as they made for the staircase leading up the wall. "Father always says, "''Son, if you ever go adventuring, always bring a rope and grapple. You''ll never know when you have to climb something.''"


    Lord Fulsof was a veritable fountain of knowledge about adventuring, wasn''t he? "Right," said Relma. "Well, I''ll thank him when next we see him."


    They halted within sight of the wall. There, they saw guards patrolling on top of it. Relma waited until he passed, only to be halted by Estela. "Wait a moment longer. Now. Follow my lead."


    They slipped quietly up the wall with Estela as their guide. Then, when they reached the top, Ronald quickly set up the rope. When it was tied, he tested it.


    "Now quick, we''ve got to go down," said Ronald. "Shame, we''ll have to leave the rope."


    Climbing was more challenging than it looked. Estela had a great time of it, effortlessly slipping down it without any effort. However, Ronald banged his knee on the way down, and then his grip slipped. He slid the rest of the way down and almost howled in pain.


    Estela covered his mouth to muffle the noise. Ronald breathed out and calmed down. His hands had gone red from the friction.


    "Don''t you know anything about scaling ropes?" asked Estela.


    "I know it''s a lot harder than it looks," said Ronald.


    Estela looked up to Relma, who was starting down. "Plant your feet on the wall and walk your way down. Do what I did; now come on."


    As Relma began to scale her way down, her body ached with exertion. As she gradually walked downward, she looked up. Then she heard the sounds of a struggle.


    "To arms!!" she heard Estela yell. "Man wolves on the wall!"


    Looking down, she saw a chaotic mess of fur. There was a howl, and then something darted off into the night. Horns were blown as Relma reached the bottom to see Estela''s sword bloodied.


    "To arms!" went the call. "To arms!"


    "Into the hills, quickly!" said Estela.


    They ran as the garrison was roused. Relma looked to Estela. "It was lucky we were there. Otherwise, they could have attacked."


    "That wasn''t an attack. If it were, they''d have cut our throats and launched it anyway. All while they had the advantage of surprise," said Estela. "And anyway, there were too few of them.


    "No, that was a scouting party checking for weaknesses.


    "With any luck, the guards will think they tied the rope."


    "Tied a rope to the top of a wall from thirty feet?" asked Ronald. "They must have long arms."


    "Oh right," said Estela.


    They sprinted in silence for a time, heading toward the hills. As they drew near Adrian''s domain, it began to get colder. The grass faded to brown. Bushes and trees became scraggly. Finally, they stopped behind a hillock.


    "Now that I think of it, they''ll probably tell Telix that a small party was trying to slip away from the walls," said Ronald. "We should go back."


    "We''ve come this far. We won''t give up now," said Relma.


    "Ajax may know we''re leaving soon!" said Ronald.


    "Then we have to hurry ahead," said Relma. "I''m not giving up. This is important."


    "Do you even know what kind of dangers we can expect in the hills?" asked Ronald.


    "Ogres, if the stories are true," said Relma. "Though they don''t dare venture into civilized territory."


    "Well, we''re about to venture into theirs," said Estela. "Come on, let''s pick up the pace. Ronald, you halflings can see better in the dark, can''t you?"


    "No," said Ronald. "What made you think that."


    "Well, I mean, you''ve got the blessings of the Sun Spirit," said Estela.


    "That just means we can channel its energies more easily," said Ronald. "We still have to create lights to see by. We''re not goblins."


    "Right. Right," said Estela. "So, can you see anything?"


    "No, Estela. I don''t have better vision than you," said Ronald. "I just said that."


    "No, you said halflings don''t have better vision than humans," noted Estela. "That doesn''t mean you don''t have better vision than me-"


    "Can we keep moving?" asked Ronald.


    They made their way on and up the slopes of the black mountain. The trees had gone away entirely, and the wind was kicking up. The heavy cloaks Ronald had had Estela buy were of excellent service here.


    They walked slowly but surely upwards.


    "So how do you think your Aunt Pan will react?" asked Ronald.


    "Ask me if I care," said Relma.


    Then, there was a cry of unfathomable rage from far below. Was it Relma, or had the sun darkened slightly? It''s probably just her imagination.


    "That certainly is a reaction," said Estela.


    "Run!" said Relma.


    They ran as quickly as they could up the slopes. Fortunately, the black mountain gradually ascended, making it more accessible. Even so, the footing was treacherous, and Relma nearly slipped once or twice.


    "Do you think she''ll follow us?" asked Ronald.


    "Only if we''re close," said Relma. "She can''t afford to drop everything just to follow us."


    "Are you sure?" asked Estela.


    "If we run very fast, yes," said Relma.


    "Let''s look for a cave," said Estela. "Legends say that the sorceress Pandora can transform into a bird. Unfortunately, we might not see her coming until it''s too late."


    Suddenly, Relma halted.


    She saw Anoa. The Bright King was standing at the top of a rise with a hand upstretched. Relma blinked, and then suddenly, he was gone. She made for him. "...This way."


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Estela.


    "I''ve just seen an old friend," said Relma.


    "Which one?" asked Ronald. "I''ve known you since you were a baby."


    "Someone you never met," said Relma.


    "Who?" asked Ronald.


    Why was Relma bothering to conceal this? It didn''t make any sense. "Anoa the Bright, all right. I met him once a couple of months ago. He just appeared to me."


    "Why would he appear to you?" asked Estela.


    Relma looked at her in irritation. "Because I''m the Heir of Kings."


    "Of course you are," said Estela. "Never let anyone tell you otherwise, kid."


    "If you don''t believe me, why are you following me?" asked Relma.


    "Well, none of us know where we''re going except up," said Estela. "We''re still going up. So we may as well follow you."


    "Look there, a cave," said Ronald.


    Sure enough, there was a cave. It was huge, but delved into the rock so that one could not see it unless they were above it. But it was next to a rock face that leaned a little forward. So only by standing where they were could they see it.


    "...That doesn''t prove anything," said Estela.


    "Look, if I''m not the Heir of Kings, why would Pandora and Gail Arengeth go to all the trouble of raising me?" asked Relma.


    "Well, the real heirs died out years ago. They could be planning to put a puppet on the throne of Harlenor Reunited," said Estela. "That''s what I''d do."


    "Well, if I was nobody special, why would they want me to bear a child to put on the throne?" asked Relma as they walked down. "Tell me that?"


    "They are making the plan needlessly complicated," said Estela as they entered the cave. "Sorcerers do that sometimes."


    "Oh, please do talk about Harlenor Reunited while trespassing in my domain." said an unfathomably evil voice. "It amuses me to no end to hear you babble." They froze. Then, the cave door closed shut with a snap. They were trapped.

 Chapter 36 - Fourteen: The Giant

    The three of them turned around in the darkness and heard the sound of their own breathing very clearly. And above that, there was an unholy rasping in the air. Relma shuddered, wondering what lay behind them as she turned around.


    "Who are you?" she asked.


    "I might ask you the same question." said whatever it was in a deep, dark voice. "It is fortunate for you that I''ve gotten out of the habit of eating humans and halflings. Or I might have devoured at least one of you before asking you for your business.


    "It had best be interesting. Or I may devour you just to be sure."


    "Um, we''re no one special," said Relma before realizing that no one special would end up chomped. "Just hiding from Pandora the Sorceress." There, a hook. He could ask for more information.


    "Pandora, the Sorceress?" asked the voice. "You intrigue me. What did you do to anger her?"


    "We went looking for Lightning Trail against her explicit orders," said Relma.


    "Did you now?" asked whatever it was. "Well, then, you must be someone relatively important to her. I wonder if I might be able to make use of you as a hostage..."


    "It wouldn''t be worth the effort," said Relma. "I''m just a servant to her; she keeps me around to do her scullery work. But she''s obsessed with controlling other people. I''m trying to escape from her.


    "But if she were to find out I was dead, well, she doesn''t take kindly to people damaging her property."


    "An attitude I can respect." laughed the voice. "Now, I wonder if I should devour you last of all. You seem more interesting than the other two."


    "You don''t want to devour us," squeaked Ronald.


    "Why not?" asked the voice.


    "Because there will be a pack of man-wolves under Telix coming this way soon," said Estela. "They''ll track us to this cave. Then, they''ll want to take us prisoner when they get here. And if we''re dead, they''ll take it out on killers."


    "And how will they get past the cave door I''ve shut?" asked the voice.


    "You must know how powerful Telix really is," said Relma. "They''ll get it open."


    "A servant, and yet you claim you are being followed by the servants of Telix," mused the voice. "Why would you warrant such treatment?"


    He probably knew she was lying. But every moment he was asking her questions was a moment he wasn''t eating it. "Not me. Estela. She had a run-in with Ajax, Telix''s son, and he came off the worse for it."


    "Well, this story is becoming very elaborate, isn''t it?" asked the voice. "What were you doing fighting with Ajax anyway?"


    "She was trying to rescue me as a favor to Pandora," said Relma. "More about making a name for herself than saving me, though."


    "Really?" asked the voice. "And how did you escape?"


    Relma shifted. "You might have noticed a fire in the woods."


    "So now you''ve started a forest fire and angered Pandora." said the voice. "My, you are good at piecing all these things together, aren''t you. Of course, I''m unsure if I should believe a word of it."


    "Well, if Ajax and company find this cave, it will prove my story, won''t it?" asked Relma.


    "I suppose it would," admitted the voice. "I wasn''t in the mood for devouring things on two legs anyway. I am Ergath, the Giant. I keep sheep in these hills."


    Suddenly, five lights like small, dull suns flared to life at five points on the ceiling. Rays of light shot between them, so they took the form of a star. And their captor was revealed.


    He was gigantic. He had long, thick fingers and rough blue skin. His arms and legs were like tree trunks and long for his body. He was sitting at the far end of a cave, wearing a blue turban, a woolen vest, and pants. There was a blue flame on his brow. Over his knees was a long scimitar. "I''d like to offer you what hospitality I can. If indeed these ''man wolves'' track you down, I''ll be certain to let you go on your way with what help I can give. If they don''t, I''ll devour all three of you whole."


    Relma came forward and bowed. "I am Relma, the dark-haired girl is Estela, and the halfling is my best friend, Ronald. You''re very kind."


    "Well, one ought to be kind to guests," said Ergath. "Even uninvited ones. Come in; I have water and cheese if you want it."


    There was a command in that voice. And nobody dared question it.


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    As it turned out, the water came from an underground spring within one of the side passages. There were a great many fluffy white sheep. While they ate, Ergath entertained himself by watching them.


    As he did, he would pick up a sheep and draw out a gigantic knife larger than any sword. Then, he would cut the wool off the sheep like carving a wood block. He was marvelously skilled at it, too, and held his sheep with very gentle hands.


    "Relma, what are we doing here?" asked Ronald.


    "Improvising," said Relma.


    The cheese was delicious. It had a tangy yet smooth taste. Relma reflected that Ajax might have yet to come after them. If so, Relma should try to make Ergath like them. It couldn''t hurt their chances. "Mighty Ergath, you said you''d give us what help you could," said Relma. "Are you knowledgeable about Lightning Trail?"


    "Very," said Ergath, hands sheering off wool. "You see, every so often, you get adventurers trying to climb the mountain to take it. When you live up here, you know the routes they will take. It makes it easier to ambush them.


    "And since many of them are counting on drawing the weapon, they often have information. I''ve picked up a book or two in my time. They''re over there if you want them."


    He motioned to what appeared to be a plain stone wall. But the stone receded when he flicked his hands and revealed an entire chamber. Within were dozens upon dozens of books. Relma wished she was better at reading. But, unfortunately, her lessons hadn''t gotten very far. "Thank you very much."


    "This is lucky," said Estela. "We''ll be able to learn more about Lightning Trail and how to draw it before we get there."


    "Or before we get eaten," muttered Ronald. "How do you even know Ajax is coming after you?"


    "Well, if I were him, I''d be itching for revenge," said Estela. "The real question is if the messenger found him and Telix gave him leave to go find us. We are on the verge of a battle."


    "And if Ajax can get past the stone," noted Relma. "Though if they kidnapped me again, they might be able to avoid a battle. That was why they did it in the first place."


    "I don''t think you''re that important," said Estela.


    "Well, Telix thinks so," said Relma. "So if he thinks he can grab us, he probably will."


    "Cheese?" said Ronald.


    It was a different kind. Relma took it. "Um, thank you."


    Estela went into the library while Relma and Ronald ate. A little while later, she returned with a book and opened it. "Look at this."


    Relma tried to figure out what it said. She could make out the letters but couldn''t remember how they all fit together. "Um, maybe you could tell me what it is."


    "Right," said Estela, giving the book to Ronald, "it says here that Lightning Trail was given to Anoa by Elranor. Anoa the Bright wielded it in battle and was undefeated. As he used it, the sword became bound to the bloodline. Only those with the blood of Elranor could wield it."


    "That much is common knowledge," said Relma. "How did it end up in the sky anyway?"


    "Well, according to this, Aren drove it into the sky long ago. He proclaimed that the one who could draw it would be King of Harlenor," said Ronald. "Many people started trying to draw it, but nobody ever succeeded.


    "So, the Kingdom fractured."


    "That doesn''t sound right," said Relma.


    "Oh, I should mention that that story is one of the later ones," said Ergath, not looking up from his sheep. "If you want something old, you''ll want one of these."


    He motioned, and one of the bookcases began to shudder. One of the books was worked out and fell to land on the ground. The ground shuddered beneath it, shaking it along the bottom until it reached them.


    "Couldn''t you treat the books more carefully?" asked Estela. "These are valuable."


    "I can''t read them," admitted Ergath. "The text is too small. Though I put some enchantments to make them more durable and water-resistant."


    Relma picked up the book. It was a massive, leather-clad tome held together by steel. It was cumbersome, and she saw no pictures as she flipped it open. Just a spidery scrawl. She glanced up. "What is this?"


    "This was stolen by my great-grandfather," said Ergath. "He was alive during the days of Anoa IX."


    Estela grabbed the book and flipped through it. "That can''t be right."


    "What is it?" asked Relma.


    "This is a journal," said Estela. "The person who wrote it signed it Anoa X, rightful King of Harlenor United."


    "There was no Anoa X," said Relma. "Everyone knows that."


    "According to this, he had to go into exile when he was very young. Anoa IX was having trouble keeping his generals in line," said Estela. "Then Baltoth murdered him in an ambush. After that, all the Generals proclaimed themselves the rightful king.


    "There was a huge civil war, and they all carved out their kingdoms."


    "But that can''t be right," said Ronald. "Everyone knows that Elranor commanded the three kingdoms to remain separate. At least until the time Harlenor Reunited came about. Anoa IX''s son was murdered by Calishan assassins."


    "They probably changed the history later," said Estela. "Kings do that all the time to make themselves look good. We Vortegex''s have a long history of doing just that."


    "But why would they betray Anoa X?" asked Relma.


    "Because they wanted to be king, I wager," said Estela with a shrug. "He was probably a child when it happened. So he wouldn''t be able to do much to stop them."


    "So what about the Calishan assassins?" asked Relma.


    "The three kings probably tried to murder Anoa X and failed," said Estela. "Then they just pretended he was dead to quell any possible uprisings."


    Relma realized that the book was written by her ancestors. "How does that journal end?"


    "It says here that Anoa X grew up in the care of Gail Arengeth," said Estela. "Then Baltoth began an invasion of Harlenor. With everyone divided, no one could stop him. So Gail drove Lightning Trail into the sky and made the three kings vow to support the one who drew it. In return, he promised that anyone worthy to rule Harlenor could remove it.


    "Then he allowed each one to try, and all failed.


    "The journal says Anoa X was going to try his luck at Gail''s urgings."


    "And then my ancestor ate him," said Ergath. "Well, that''s quite satisfying."


    "Why?" asked Relma. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Anoa the Bright tried to wipe all the giants out," said Ergath. "We were driven to near extinction by him."


    "I can''t imagine why," muttered Estela.


    "My sheep have a similar opinion of humans," said Ergath. "Actually, I didn''t know any of this."


    "Why not?" asked Relma. But wait, he already told her.


    "I told you," said Ergath. "I can''t focus on the letters."


    Relma saw an opportunity. But she couldn''t take it because she couldn''t read.


    "Would you like me to read these books to you?" asked Estela. "You could learn all about what''s inside them?"


    "Well, that does seem a decent reason to keep you alive a while longer." mused Ergath. "Read on, human."


    So Estela had been thinking the same thing. At the very least, it would buy them time. And then, she could gradually get Ergath to like her and the others. She was making progress. They could get out of here and find Lightning Trail with any luck.


    Without it?


    Well, they could end up a giant''s meal.

 Chapter 37 - Fifteen: The Caverns of the Goblins

    Estela read many books for Ergath that day, pausing only to eat and drink. He listened as he sheared his sheep one by one with a practiced skill and gentle hand. It was apparent the creatures were quite fond of him. Now and again, he would look down to ask a question, seeming to have genuine interest. Sometimes Estela would have an answer, sometimes she would not.


    Either way, Ergath''s reaction would be the same. He would make a sound with his mouth and not look up. If not for the questions, Relma thought she wouldn''t know if he was listening at all. Ronald set about cooking a meal from the supplies he had gathered. Eating cheese was something one could get sick of very quickly. Relma would have offered to help, but Ronald preferred people to help with his cooking. Halflings took that kind of thing personally.


    So she found herself with nothing to do at all. Relma didn''t like not being necessary and spent this time petting some of the sheep. As she did, she wondered if her Father, Hadleim, had ever been to a place like this. He''d been a great warrior, hadn''t he?


    It didn''t really interest her. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    She looked up to Ergath. "So, do you have any family?" she asked.


    "No, nothing of the sort," said Ergath, shaking his head. "Living together under one roof is a peculiarity of the smaller races. We giants are far more sensible. Children are raised by their mothers and sent out independently once they are mature.


    "We keep in some contact; we''ve had to do so, what with the occasional army that tries to root us out. But we keep to ourselves for the most part."


    "You keep a strange hoard for a giant," noted Estela.


    "Well, it isn''t a good idea to hoard treasure when you live so close to the black dragons," said Ergath, raising one hand and moving it through the air. "So we hoard other valuable items. My family accumulates books and keeps them in good condition.


    "We''ve picked up the details of reading the text quickly enough. We just kidnapped some educated merchants and forced them to show us. It helps communicate, but the text is too small to read.


    "Still, they are valuable."


    "But how do you know so much about your father if he didn''t raise you?" asked Relma. She knew only what she had been told by Argath and Aunt Pan. Which wasn''t very much, though she hadn''t asked that much.


    Relma should ask more about Hadleim when she gets the chance. The information might prove useful, and it could look bad if she didn''t know it.


    "Well, I was the youngest and strongest," said Ergath with a smile. "So I was sent by my late mother to act as his heir. One of my sisters stayed with her and inherited Mother''s cave."


    "And where is that?" asked Relma.


    "Oh, some miles off," said Ergath, stretching his huge shoulders as he shifted in his stone seat. "The exact location escapes me. I haven''t been back there for many years." He put down the sheep he was shearing, and another came onto his lap.


    "Don''t you ever miss your family?" asked Relma.


    "Well, I meet them occasionally," said Ergath, stretching his neck. He did not seem to like sitting still. "But we giants don''t really mind being on our own. We don''t hunt in packs like humans or wolves."


    "We aren''t anything like wolves," said Estela.


    Ergath looked down. "Are you so certain?"


    No one said anything. There wasn''t anything to say.


    Then Ergath looked up. He closed his eyes, then opened them. Relma had the feeling he had sensed something and wondered how he had. "...Ah, here they are. You spoke correctly. I will not eat you or your friends, after all. They are still some miles off, and they may not find us.


    "I suggest you finish your meal."


    They did it very quickly. Then Ergath took them to the mouth of the cave and motioned. It slid open to reveal the distant figures of Ajax and Anya, making their way up the slopes. They were accompanied by many wolves.


    Suddenly, Anya halted. "Hold up. I smell giants. And also, Relma."


    "You don''t think she''s dead, do you?" asked Ajax, concerned.


    "No," said Anya. "There is no blood or death in the air. Likely being held captive."


    "What kind of giant takes captives?" asked Ajax.


    "The intelligent kind," said Anya.


    They were looking right at them now and very near. Yet they couldn''t see.


    "Why can''t they see us?" asked Ronald.


    "I have established wards upon this place," said Ergath. "No one can see past it unless they are allowed."


    "Then you let us in?" said Relma.


    "I was interested to see what you would do," said Ergath. "Still, wolves have a keen sense of smell. I expect Ajax will find his way in eventually. I will be leaving the door open, after all." He hefted his scimitar. "When he does, he will find me waiting. So tonight, I dine on the children of Telix.


    "Still, a deal is a deal, and I shall open the way to Lightning Trail."


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    He led them into the main halls and opened another passage. As the stone ground opened, Relma examined it with interest. This one was smaller, and he had to hunch over to enter it. A faint, oozy smell came down it, along with the water drip. You could see moss growing over it in various places. "This passage was dug by my Father. It was made to ambush those who reached the peak of the Black Mountain. It will lead you straight to Lightning Trail."


    So the giants could delve into great tunnels and know how to ambush. Relma would have to remember this when she became King. She could use the knowledge to her benefit later. And if she didn''t, it could be used against her.


    "Thank you, Ergath," said Ergath. "Without you, I''d have been caught for sure."


    "It is no trouble. I will eat well because of this," said Ergath.


    "Are you sure you''ll be able to defeat Ajax?" asked Estela.


    "I know many spells. And this is my home ground," said Ergath. "This will be my first battle in a decade. And it will be a worthy one indeed.


    "Now go; Ajax is working at my defenses. I shall delay his coming as long as I can in case I am defeated. When you come to the crossroads, take the left passage. Right leads down to the old goblin empire.


    "And at the next crossroads, you''ll take a right, then-"He paused. "Never mind, you''ll never remember it. It''s far too complicated. So I''ll take you there myself."


    "What about your sheep?" asked Relma.


    Ergath motioned. The pen in which he kept the sheep shuddered, and the wall opened to reveal a passage leading upwards. The sheep scaled up it without a word. Relma shuddered as she felt a sense of unease came over her. Just how powerful must Ergath be to command the mountain itself?


    She definitely had to make sure the giants were on her side when she became King. Either that or put the problem down another way. Which she did not want to do. She liked Ergath.


    "Come," said Ergath. "We have a ways to go."


    He led them through the dark passage, summoning a sphere of light to see by. It gradually got smaller, and soon Ergath could hardly fit. Yet he showed no distress or discomfort, smiling as he clambered.


    "Did your ancestors really dig all this out?" asked Relma. It must have taken a great deal of work. Humans or dwarves would have difficulty with these caverns.


    "Not all of it, no," admitted Ergath. "We connected our passages to an existing cave system. These were once inhabited by the old goblin empire."


    "Goblins?" asked Estela. "Aren''t they all dead?"


    The passage widened to reveal a vast natural cavern. The ceiling alone rose high, with many crude arches keeping it up. By the dim light of Ergath''s spell, she could make out images on the walls of great ziggurats rising high into the air. Many of them were overgrown with red and white flowers. Relma couldn''t see very far, but she could hear running water. The air here was also cleaner, which meant wind must come into here now and again.


    "The goblins were a small race of green-skinned creatures," said Ergath. "They only lived a few weeks and were small, weak, and stupid. But they multiplied and were skilled with rope and woodworking. The elves fought many wars with them, but they delved deep into the earth to escape them.


    "The elves and dwarves made many alliances. Both of them hated goblins and wanted them gone. The dragons helped them."


    "So, where did humans play into this?" asked Estela.


    "In those days, humans were minor players," said Ergath. "Goblins and humans were of the same generation. Both awoke after the elves and dragons at the beginning of the world. But because the goblins reproduced so quickly, they became their own faster. As a result, they were more of a problem for the elves.


    "Humans were something of an afterthought in those days." He muttered something, and his light brightened. Relma looked around and saw that the cavern was far larger than she''d thought. There was an underground river running through it. Many spikes were coming from the top and bottom of the cave. What were they called again? And how did they form?


    "So what happened to them?" asked Ronald.


    "The humans came into their own," said Ergath without passion. "Anoa the Bright made an alliance with the goblins. He used their tunnels to go quickly from one place to another. Their tunnels were of invaluable service during the wars. He also used them as shock troops during many of the battles.


    "While doing that, he allied with them to locate all their cities and map out their caves. When the elves were defeated, he allied with the satyrs and dwarves. From there, he launched a series of campaigns to wipe them out. He succeeded where the elves failed."


    "Anoa wouldn''t do something like that," said Relma.


    Ergath stopped and looked at her. "Have you ever heard of the Road of Ancient Stone, child?"


    Relma shuddered as the air grew just a bit colder. "...I''ve heard about it. Nobody likes to speak of it, and whenever they mention it, everyone gets serious."


    "That is because it was once the heart of goblin civilization," said Ergath. "Until Anoa the Bright began his campaign. He burned every city and village. He slaughtered every goblin he could find. The mountains stank of corpses, and the cliffs ran red with blood. And he took no booty or gold.


    "None in that campaign gained anything by their destruction. On the contrary, it was pure malice that drove them. Malice and hatred.


    "Such was the horror of the deed that the Road of Ancient Stone connected with the hells. One who walks into that place now steps into a realm where the hell has been made manifest.


    "At any rate, now you know why Anoa is called ''the Butcher'' by his former enemies. Or at least the ones he didn''t wipe out."


    "What is your source on this?" asked Estela.


    "The knowledge was passed down through my family. So we''ve kept outstanding records," said Ergath. "Though our books are far too large for you to get any use out of them." He looked up and pricked his pointed ears. "...Hmm, they''ve broken through our wards. Now, they''re following after us at a rapid pace. Come, it''s just a little further. Then we''ll part ways."


    The natural caverns faded away. Soon, they scaled a winding passage that led steadily up like a spiral staircase. The drip of water could be heard still, but the river faded away.


    Finally, they turned the last corner and saw daylight ahead of them. They quickened their pace and soon emerged from the cave entrance. It was suddenly bitterly cold, and Relma pulled her cloak closer around her. The peak of the mountain stretched ever higher above her. The wind howled.


    "And here we are," said Ergath. "From here, just keep on this path, and you''ll come out near the very peak of the mountain. The sword is at the top."


    "What about you?" asked Relma.


    "I''ll deal with these irritating wolves as I had intended," said Ergath. "I''ll be behind you; I just need to set a trap or two." And he kneeled down to begin muttering incantations.


    "Thank you, Ergath," said Relma.


    They scaled upwards. Once they got past the cave, Relma caught a glimpse. They were near the very top of the Black Mountain. Far below them are all the forests, towns, hills, and rivers of Gel Carn. It and the surrounding lands were like little models. Relma found her breath catching in her throat.


    "You seem remarkably chummy with that ogre, considering he meant to eat us," said Ronald.


    "He didn''t, though. And now he''s helping us," said Relma, turning to keep climbing.


    "Whatever you say," said Ronald.


    Relma focused. They were always there. Only a little further, and Lightning Trail would be theirs. Then, there was an earthshaking, crushing noise, and a howl of rage.


    It was time to go.

 Chapter 38 - Sixteen: Lightning Trail

    They looked back toward the cave entrance, and Relma was expecting to see Ajax coming up after her in a rage. Smoke was rising in high clouds, and snarling and fighting was heard. She saw no one yet, and that relieved her. She was not looking forward to the idea of having to fight Ajax. If she could just stall until she got Lightning Trail, though.


    "What is going on?" asked Ronald.


    "It must have been the trap Ergath set," said Estela. "Hurry up, both of you."


    "I hope Ajax and the others are alive," murmured Relma as they climbed.


    Estela gave Relma a look. "You''re joking."


    "They aren''t bad people," argued Relma. "Just driven by the will of Telix." Killing Ajax would be a terrible idea. It would probably escalate things and start a blood feud. The last thing she needed.


    "I''d hate to see what you qualify as a bad person, Relma," said Estela.


    They scaled ever higher, and the sound of fighting grew ever dimmer. Soon they seemed to walk faster as the remaining distance flew by. Before long, they were nearing the peak. The air became thinner and colder, but Relma hardly felt it.


    For she could see a swirling storm cloud above the mountain. All of them surrounded a single point. As she drew near, she saw what she had been looking for. "There it is."


    Lightning Trail was a chipped, somewhat twisted, and dull blade. It was hanging from the clouds a few feet above the peak. But that didn''t diminish it in the slightest.


    For Relma, at least. Those clouds had hung there for thousands of years. The sword kept them there.


    "... It''s somewhat uh..." began Ronald.


    "Less illustrious than you were expecting." guessed Relma.


    She should have been disappointed. But, then again, it wasn''t about the sword. It was about drawing it.


    "Well, what were you expecting?" laughed Estela. "Lightning Trail''s power came from the wielder. Well, that and the Heaven''s Eye."


    "You mean the gem in the pommel?" asked Relma. "Where is it?"


    "Gail took the gem out when he placed it in the sky," said Estela.


    "Why''d he do that?" asked Relma.


    "I imagine he thought putting an artifact of unlimited holy power for anyone to pry out was a bad idea," said Estela. "Don''t worry. The gem is down in Gel Carn, under the protection of the Steward.


    "If any of us draw the sword, you need only convince him to hand it over."


    "Well, that sounds much easier than I was expecting," said Relma.


    "Yes, right," said Estela. "Relma, I know the Steward has sworn to hand power over to Anoa the Bright''s heir as soon as they appear, but he isn''t going to do it."


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Relma.


    "Well, think about it. You and your family have ruled over a Kingdom in all but name for generations. Then some random farm boy showed up with a sword, demanding to be made the king. Would you hand it over?"


    "If I''d sworn to hand it over to the rightful heir, and he was one, of course," said Relma.


    "See, you answered that way because you don''t understand." Estela seemed very annoyed by her answer. "This isn''t an oath you made of your own will. It''s an oath your great, great, great grandfather made and forced you to make.


    "This boy is clearly the pupil of an irritating wizard who shows up and demands like he owns the place. And now that wizard is telling you to give up the country that you would have inherited.


    "Would you do it?"


    "...Well, I might be a little reluctant," said Relma, not really comprehending what she was getting at. "But Aren isn''t irritating." Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Estela put a hand over her eyes. "Hmm, well, I guess that''s a good thing. Since you''re clearly far too stupid to rule anything."


    "Hey!" said Relma.


    "We Vortegex''s became Kings of Escor by the old-fashioned way," said Estela as she climbed toward the sword. "We helped House De Chevlon crush House Gabriel. Then we killed those vampires and burned them all to a cinder."


    "Vampires?" asked Ronald.


    "Yes, well, we were loyal to House De Chevlon," said Estela as they neared the sword. "Then we discovered that House De Chevlon was secretly ruled by vampires. So they offered the head of our House a place among them.


    "Naturally, we''re loyal servants of Elranor. We staged a coup and obliterated as many vampires as we could.


    "Of course, it''s all nonsense. We made it up to justify our takeover later. That''s the problem with propaganda. You spend so much time telling lies that you forget the truth."


    And then Ergath emerged from the living stone. He was covered in wounds, and his sword was bloodied. He limped forward and fell to one knee, resting on his scimitar. "I don''t mean to interrupt, but Ajax has survived my trap and is coming up after us with all his wolves.


    "If you want to try your luck, now is the time."


    "Are you all right?" asked Relma.


    "I''ll need to heal myself a bit," said Ergath. "Your pursuer is quite formidable."


    "Right, I''ll just, um..." began Relma. She''d been hoping Ajax would be turned back by Ergath or at least delayed a bit longer.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    But Estela first moved forward in long strides and gripped the blade with one hand. She pulled on it, but it remained stuck in place. Then, hauling on it further, she gritted her teeth and finally let go.


    "Damn it," she said. "Oh, to hell with it. Arengeth probably made it so the spell would only release for his chosen puppet. With Anoa X dead, nobody can pull it.


    "Ronald, want to give it a try?"


    "Me?" asked Ronald. "But I don''t want to be king."


    "Yeah, but you''ve been taught how to rule by your father," said Relma. "Maybe not wanting to be king is part of the requirements."


    Ronald nodded and moved forward. Then, taking hold of the sword, he pulled on it. The sword seemed to flash for a moment, the clouds shifting above a bit. Then they darkened again, and he let go.


    "Hurry up," said Ergath, whose wounds had lessened.


    "Right," said Relma.


    She approached the sword. This was what she had come here for. This moment. But what if she couldn''t draw it? No, she had to draw it, or she''d never prove herself. So she took hold of the blade and pulled for a moment.


    There was no response. It held tightly.


    She had to draw it. What would happen if she didn''t? She''d have to go back and admit Aunt Pan was right. Wait for her son or grandson to get all the glory and credit. While she was forgotten. She pulled again.


    The sword stayed where it was.


    And then she thought about the coming war. Was there any hope at all? She could see Aren and Aunt Pan defeated Telix, but Adrian too? It would be incredibly bloody. Images of black dragons soaring over halfling villages came to mind. She saw Ronald''s face, then acid hit it, and the skin melted. It left only bone that blackened and melted to nothingness.


    She couldn''t let that happen. She had to draw it!


    The sword budged.


    She opened her eyes and found herself standing in her old home. The fire was roaring. For a moment, she thought it was just a dream. Then she saw the light out the windows. Endless light. She turned around and saw Him.


    "...Elranor," said Relma.


    He had skin and hair as white as snow. His sword was inlaid with light instead of gold. His fair features were contemplative, and he was sitting in a chair. Not a throne, but one of simple wood, his hands clasped as he looked upon a chessboard. Relma was on the other side of it.


    "Hello, Relma," he said.


    "I um... well, I..." began Relma.


    "You are not supposed to be here," noted Elranor.


    "Well..." Relma looked downcast.


    "You are not meant to be the one to wield Lightning Trail," said Elranor. "The ideal time has not yet been realized. By disobeying Pandora, you have risked your entire bloodline for the sake of your desires."


    Relma felt like crying. She didn''t know what to say. "I..."


    "Fortunately, some of those desires are admirable," said Elranor. "Take the sword."


    Relma blinked. Wasn''t she just about to get scolded. "What?"


    "I may be a god, but I appreciate people with a drive of their own," said Elranor. "It isn''t fair to expect someone to devote their entire life to bearing a child. And you are of the right bloodline. So if you want to take Lightning Trail and try to prove yourself worthy of it, you may do so."


    "Okay, thank you," said Relma. She was, uh... glad this worked out. "But what about the plan?"


    Elranor smiled. "The best plan is one that can be changed. When you try to force people to be something they are not, it never ends well. And to be blunt, I see many possible futures. Of course, I could tell you to go back to Pandora with your head hung in shame. But that would cause more problems than it would solve."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "Well, you were reckless enough to embark on this venture at a whim," said Elranor. "If I crushed your spirit now, you might become the perfect mother. Or, more likely, you''d end up despising your children. Resenting that they had the destiny you wanted.


    "It has happened.


    "Also, your drawing Lightning Trail could lead to some serious short-term benefits. So go ahead. Have fun."


    Relma stepped back, and Lightning Trail came out of the clouds. There was a clap of thunder, and the clouds which had hung over the Black Mountain for ages dispersed. They flowed across the sky. Before Relma''s eyes, the twisted and bent sword changed shape.


    Where once it was a wreck of a weapon, now it was perfectly shaped. The blade reflected the sun''s light almost as brightly as it came down. The grip was perfect and made Relma feel like she could move mountains. The hilt and guard were elegant, made, and inlaid with silver. Or something like silver; it seemed brighter. And there was a place at the center to put a gem.


    "...You just drew Lightning Trail," said Ronald.


    "Wait, you actually are the Heir of Kings?" said Estela. "That''s impossible!"


    "I only found out about it-" began Relma.


    And then something hit her from behind. Relma was sent sprawling and landed on the ground. Looking up, she saw Ajax, poised to strike. His claws were out, and his eyes glinted with fury.


    "Let''s speed this up," said Ajax.


    Relma stood up and brandished her sword. She''d been running from him all this time. But she didn''t need to. Now she had Lightning Trail. Now she could-


    He was dodging all of her swings very easily, wasn''t he?


    And then he caught her by the wrist and brought around a fist to punch her in the stomach. The sword fell from her hand, and she keeled over.


    "Wow, it''s almost like I''m the unstoppable half-demon, and you started learning to use a sword two days ago," said Ajax. "Strange how that works out."


    Then he ducked as Estela swung at him from behind. He brought around his leg in a roundhouse kick, but Estela ducked back before stabbing at him. After that, they dueled back and forth, and Estela was doing better than Relma had.


    But not well enough. Ajax wasn''t even taking this seriously. And then he caught Estela by the throat and disarmed her. "Hmm, you''re good. Been a while since I had to exert myself like this. Here''s the thing, I just had a cave-in separate me from my sister and pack mates. So I''m taking it out on you.


    "Although, you''re not bad to look at." He brought up a hand as Ronald came at him and backhanded him. Ronald was sent falling back and hit the ground. He fell but quickly began to rise. "Tell you what, I''ll break the halfling."


    Ajax surged at Ronald. Relma turned to Ergath, who was sitting cross-legged and observing. "Ergath, a little help here?"


    "Oh, you expect me to help," said Ergath. "I thought we''d established by now that I''m a less than moral individual."


    "Could you please help?" asked Relma.


    "Well, I could," admitted Ergath. "But doing nothing will likely infuriate Arengeth more."


    "Ajax, Ergath was the one who set the wards!" said Estela.


    "...What?" said Ajax, looking up.


    "If any of your pack are dead, it''s because of him," said Estela.


    "And he was planning on eating us," said Relma.


    Ajax paused before grabbing Ronald and smashing him into the ground. Then he rose up and took a stance. "Clever girl."


    Then he surged toward Ergath, who stood in a flash and met him head-on. As the two slashed and tore at each other Relma made her way over to Ronald. He was bloodied on the forehead, and one of his arms was limp. "Ronald, are you all right?"


    "No. I hurt all over," said Ronald.


    "Can you move?" asked Relma.


    "My leg..." said Ronald. "When I try to move it, it hurts."


    Estela came up and offered Relma Lightning Trail. "Come on, Relma. Get Lightning Trail. I''ll take Ronald."


    She picked up Ronald, and the two of them moved as far away from the fighting as quickly as they could. But Relma''s midsection was hurting, and Ronald was still bleeding badly.


    "I... I can''t see..." said Ronald.


    "Put him down, Estela," said Relma. "He''ll die if we don''t treat him."


    "And if we don''t get out of here, we''ll all die," said Estela.


    "Please!" said Relma.


    Estela set Ronald down gently. She drew some bandages out of her pack and began to apply them. But it was a lost cause. It was too little, too late.


    Relma had to do something.


    And then something came to her. It came naturally as if she was learning to use a muscle she''d never known she had. First, she reached forward and touched Ronald on the brow. Then she channeled something, perhaps herself, into him.


    She could feel his pain dimming and his bones setting. He gasped as his flesh knitted. And then it was over. Suddenly Relma found herself becoming tired. Estela stared at her.


    "Relma, what did you do?" asked Estela.


    Relma would have loved to give her an answer. But right now, her eyes were dimming. "I... I uh... I don''t feel so well..."


    "Relma!" shouted Estela.


    Her voice seemed a long way off, though. Finally, Relma collapsed to the ground, and everything went dark.

 Chapter 39 - Seventeen: Reunited in Triumph

    Relma awoke and wished she hadn''t as the light entered her eyes.


    Her head felt like bells had been ringing inside it. Her tongue felt like lead. Her body ached all over. Little by little, she pulled herself up and found that the sky above was turning to twilight. There was a campfire where the last of the firewood was burning.


    Ronald was cooking stew on it, stirring a ladle in one of his pots. He looked up. "Relma, you''re awake. Thank Barden."


    "Unfortunately," said Relma with a wince. "What happened?"


    "You healed my wounds," said Ronald, bringing up a bandaged arm. "Well, some of them. All my bones are fine, but I''ve got a bunch of scratches."


    "What happened with Ajax and Ergath?" asked Relma.


    "I don''t know," admitted Ronald. "They slipped off a ravine, still fighting. They might still be fighting. Estela followed them to watch the fight.


    "What now? We have Lightning Trail."


    Relma looked down at the shining blade by her side. It lay there, naked, gleaming. It really was the most magnificent thing she''d ever seen. "Well, I guess we head back home. I''d love to see the look on Pandora''s face when she finds out that I''ve gotten Lightning Trail-"


    And then a white owl descended and took on the form of Aunt Pan. Her hair blew around her as she threw back her black cloak. Her eyes were alight with fire. "Relma Artorious!" "


    Relma smirked and raised Lightning Trail. "Aunt Pan. Look upon my achievements and despair."


    Aunt Pan froze in place, eyes wide. "I... you... you drew... why would..." She stalked forward and snatched the blade out of her hand. "You stupid girl! You run off into the middle of the wilderness, into enemy territory! You drag me away from the battle line! And now you, you derail centuries of work for pure spite!"


    "Mmmmhmmm," said Relma, smile widening.


    Just as planned.


    "Stop smiling! Do you have any idea what you''ve done?!" roared Pandora.


    "Screwed up your plans for me," said Relma. "And Elranor gave me permission to wield it, so there."


    Pandora shook visibly, clenching a fist. Then she breathed and looked to the lands below. "... We''ll discuss this later. We''re going back to the battle line at once. There is bound to be a war soon, and I have to be there. "Where is Estela? Or have you gotten her killed?"


    "She went to watch a battle between a giant and a werewolf-" began Ronald.


    And then Estela staggered out of the darkness, carrying Ajax over one shoulder. "Man wolf. And the giant won." She threw him down.


    "Ajax," said Ronald. "Why did you bring him back here?"


    "He was beaten into unconsciousness," said Estela. "Ergath limped off into the mountains after that. I think he was afraid I''d finish him off. Relma, can you heal him?"


    "Heal him?" asked Pandora. "Relma doesn''t possess..." She froze and looked at Relma. "So you did meet with Elranor. What is he thinking?


    "No matter. Ronald, do you have any rope left?"


    "Yes, actually," said Ronald. "I bought an extra set of it."


    "Good," said Pan. "Get it out. Telix''s favorite son will make an excellent hostage. Once we''ve gotten back to the village, we''ll discuss your adventure."


    "What about the girls Telix seized and made into his slaves?" asked Relma. "Do you think maybe we could get them returned?"


    "Possibly," said Pandora. "However, that would likely require an exchange. Our primary goal is to avert the war." She set her hands on Ajax and closed her eyes. The numerous wounds on him faded away, leaving only the bloodstains. "Now, help me tie him up."


    Pandora only tied his arms to his waist, and Relma thought it was meager. Pandora looked to Relma. "He was hit with several powerful spells. It took a great deal of work to fix. Do you know how this happened?"


    "We met an ogre sorcerer named Ergath," said Estela. "He helped us slip under your view and got us here."


    "You worked with an ogre?" asked Pandora.


    "Well, yes," said Relma. "He was actually very nice."


    "He planned to eat us, Relma," said Estela.


    "Yes, but he didn''t," said Relma, failing to see her problem. "Anyway, after Ajax attacked us, I convinced him to go after Ergath, and they fought. Then I healed Ronald and fell unconscious."


    "What were you thinking, Relma?" asked Pandora. "You are lucky this Ergath did not eat you alive?"


    "I don''t think luck had anything to do with it," said Estela. "She kept her cool and interested him on her own."


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    "And if she had run into one of the dumb ogres?" asked Pandora. "The ones that live to eat?"


    "Well, I guess I''d have to kill it," said Estela. "Anyway, I''m more worried about what we''ll do when we get to Gel Carn.


    "Relma will probably have to swear off any claim to the Kingdom."


    "She will do no such thing," said Pandora.


    Estela shrugged. "Then, I suppose she''ll have her throat cut in the night."


    "The Steward wouldn''t do something like-" began Relma.


    Estela howled with laughter.


    "As if I would allow that," said Pandora.


    Estela stopped and gave her a look. A severe one. "Who died and made you King of Harlenor Reunited, Lady Pandora? Relma has no support. Only a bloodline that hasn''t been in power for over a thousand years. The three kingdoms aren''t going to unite just because you tell them to.


    "Hell, the Vortegex''s sure aren''t going to. No offense."


    "None was taken," nodded Relma. "I''d be pretty skeptical, too."


    "I never said she would be King," said Pandora, raising the sword. "I should put this back. But if I tried, Elranor would probably refuse it." She sighed. "We''ve still got to deal with Telix. We have a hostage.


    "Do you think we can get him it to make Telix go away?" asked Ronald.


    "That''ll never work," said Estela. "Ajax might be the favorite, but Telix has other children. He isn''t going to give up everything he''s won for one child."


    "Even so," said Pandora, "we''ll be able to get some concessions."


    "Sounds good to me," said Estela. "That''s how we Vortegex''s do things. Take a little at a time until your enemy has nothing, and it is too late to stop us."


    "The wolf demon is waking up," said Pandora.


    Ajax awoke. Instantly, he had thrown himself onto his feet and surged at Pandora with bared fangs. The rope broke around him, and his claws were bared. Even as he did, she raised a hand, and he collapsed to one knee.


    "What is..." he gasped.


    "Stay where you are, cur," said Pandora. "My will is upon you. It is within my power to end your life with a thought. Now stand and follow us."


    "What... get... get out of my... head..." hissed Ajax.


    "You will follow us," said Pandora. "And if you turn away, it will be the worst for you."


    Ajax turned and seemed to be striving against invisible chains. He snarled and growled like a cornered wolf ." Never..."


    Then he collapsed to the ground. Then, a moment later, he arose, his eyes empty and his posture strange and relaxed.


    Pandora breathed out. "He is strong-willed. Come Relma. We need not fear him escaping."


    "Was that necessary?" asked Ronald. "That was a good rope."


    "I had hoped it would hold him," admitted Pandora. "Demons vary in power a great deal. Even the ones who come from the same parents. This one is obviously a potent variety.


    "I''m sorry about the rope, Ronald. When we return, I''ll see if I can get you a replacement."


    "It held his sister," noted Estela.


    "No doubt, that is why Ajax is his favorite," noted Pandora. "Demons value power above all else. They have differing views on how to get it and what exactly power is. Now, we must stop fussing.


    "We must go now. Before Adrian Wrynncurth catches us here. He does not always keep his gaze this high, but he may have noticed the fighting."


    "Yes, Aunt Pan," said Relma.


    The journey back down the mountain was fast. Far too fast to be natural. The ground seemed to shift beneath them. It sped their progress as they went faster and faster down. It was a little disorienting, and Relma began feeling sick.


    Ajax walked behind them, eyes empty and hands by his side. As if he were an empty shell. "What is going on, Aunt Pan?" she asked.


    "I have friendships with the spirits of this mountain," said Pan. "I have asked them to speed up our progress. This is the kind of thing you will have to learn if you hope to use that sword."


    "I thought you didn''t want me using the sword," said Relma.


    "I don''t," said Pandora. "But Elranor has changed the plan as usual.


    "This happens every time. First, we have everything laid out. Then he pulls the rug out from under us, and Father and I have to spend the next two hundred years compensating for it."


    "Father always told my brother that no plan can survive its own first step," said Estela. "So, you always have to be ready to shift."


    "Your father understands much," said Pandora. "But the purpose of a plan is to achieve an objective. So, the first step is figuring out what you are trying to achieve.


    "In this case, we are trying to achieve Harlenor Reunited."


    "What was the original plan?" asked Relma.


    "Steward Benarus has no direct heirs," said Pandora. "And since he is sterile, he will not have any. The one who will succeed him is a niece he despises. I hope your son or daughter will be brought up within Gel Carn and adopted by him.


    "When they eventually ascended to become Steward, his true lineage would be revealed. This would leave them in possession of a kingdom."


    "Now hang on," said Estela, "Gel Carn is a vassal of Antion."


    "I am well aware," said Pandora. "That is why that son would quickly marry a Princess of Antion. This would ensure that King Andoa''s line controls their kingdom. It would also cement control over a full third of Harlenor."


    "And then things would crash and burn," said Estela.


    "What makes you so certain?" asked Relma.


    "Look, everyone touts the Harlenor Reunited ideology," said Estela. "But in the end, no one really believes in it. It''s just an ideology to justify wars. You might be able to hogtie Antion, but Haldren and Escor wouldn''t just join the fold."


    "On the contrary," said Pandora, "events are already in motion. In time, Haldren might have become a vassal of Antion. Had things gone perfectly, the only independent state would have been Escor.


    "I''m certain we could have negotiated an understanding with your descendants. One which benefited everyone involved."


    "How would swearing loyalty to someone who''s never even been to Escor help us?" asked Estela.


    "Well, if you joined Harlenor Reunited, you would be a recognized royal family. Under the reign of a High King, of course," said Pandora.


    "Which meant that if any of the Barons and Lords rebelled, you would have a massive amount of support to rely on.


    "I would have done this if you hadn''t run off at night and drawn Lightning Trail. What were you thinking, Relma?"


    "That I don''t want to fade out of history," said Relma. "I want to be someone great. I want to be remembered for all time."


    "Being a great player in history isn''t as great as you would think," said Pandora. "I''ve seen good men turned into monsters by the power they wield. I''ve seen other good men who weren''t corrupted break under the strain of reign.


    "I never wanted this for you, Relma. I never wanted this for anyone."


    "Maybe," said Relma. "But I do."


    Her decision was made. Now, she just had to follow through. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 40 - Eighteen: A Life Cut Short

    They found Aren along the side of the road, blowing smoke rings. The old man was sitting on a rock, his staff at his feet. He glanced up as they approached and stood smiling, removing his pipe. "So you''re back with our errant cub, are we? And with some new company."


    "This is Ajax. The favored son of Telix," said Pandora. "I judged that he would be of more use to us alive."


    "A hostage then and-" Aren blinked. "Why is Relma holding Lightning Trail?"


    "I drew it," said Relma.


    "Right, well, you had best put that away," said Aren, taking out his pipe. "Actually, let me see it."


    "No way. It''s mine," said Relma.


    "My dear girl, there is a time and a place for everything. Unfortunately, it is neither for Lightning Trail," Aren exasperatedly said. "Let me disguise it, at least, so no one will know what it is."


    Relma hesitated for a moment. Then she gave it to Aren, who raised it. He probably did know best.


    "That''s all you have to say, Father?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "Pandora, if Relma drew the sword, it means Elranor has accepted her," said Aren. "I''ve spent my whole life serving Elranor, and mine has been much longer than yours. So, I have no intention of questioning him now just because his plan doesn''t fit my plan.


    "Besides, these things have a way of working themselves out." He closed his eyes. Before their eyes, the reflections on the sword became dull. The blade became scratched and beaten. The grip, guard, and pommel became simple and ordinary-looking. The blade was now wholly unremarkable.


    "There. That is a good deal less impressive," said Aren. "At the very least, no one will shout to high heavens that Lightning Trail has been found." He tossed the sword into the air, then caught it by the blade between gloved fingertips. Then, with a smile, he offered it to her. "Here you go, Relma. Keep your hands on that."


    Relma took it, and Aren walked past. "Now, what about the wolf demon?"


    "He will make an excellent hostage," said Pandora. "I believe I said that before."


    "Yes, yes," said Aren, "How did you capture him? How did all this happen?"


    "It is a long story," admitted Relma.


    "Well, you can tell it on the way," said Aren. "I''ve set up as many wards as possible on the border. But even Telix will have a hard time sending raids through.


    "At any rate, let''s get back to the village."


    The village was a welcome sight when they got to it. Pandora broke off with Ajax to speak with Lord Argath as they reached the gate. Aren led Relma and the others into the town, which was bustling with activity. There were many more soldiers here now.


    "Why is everyone here?" asked Relma.


    "This village has the best defenses of the lot," said Argath. "Pandora and I have established wards all along the forest except here. Telix can either attack here or try to break the wards. "That will take time. Time enough for us to get our troops there."


    "Arengeth," said a soldier, approaching, "what is happening? Why did the clouds over the black mountain disappear? And what were all those flashes?"


    "Nothing we need concern ourselves with now," said Aren. "Elranor makes things clear to all men when the time is right. Now-"


    "Lightning Trail!" cried a man, standing upon a wagon of firewood.


    "What?" said someone.


    All eyes turned to him. He was about forty and wore the robes of a monk. "Lightning Trail has been drawn! The Heir of Kings has returned!"


    "What is all this? What are you talking about?" asked a man.


    "A vision came to me from Elranor!" cried the monk. "Lightning Trail has been drawn, and the chosen one walks among us! So soon Harlenor Reunited shall come to pass, and Baltoth! The once Inexorable shall be slain forever!"


    A regular frenzy began to overtake the crowd. Finally, Arengeth started to walking toward the man, whose proclamations became ever more grandiose.


    Then Tanith stumbled out of the inn, bleary-eyed. There were shadows under her eyes, and she looked like she had been drinking. But she had a huge battle axe on her back and two swords at her sides.


    "Will someone shut that bloody idiot up?" she roared, hurling a knife. The blade caught the man by the hood and pinned him to the wall of a house. From there, he slipped off the cart and fell behind it with a cry of pain.


    Tanith stalked up to him and pulled the knife out. "No one cares about prophecies, you old fool."


    The villagers stepped away from Tanith. At that moment, Ronald moved forward. "I do."


    "No one whose opinion matters cares about prophecies." Tanith corrected herself.


    At that moment, the man rose up again. "Rejoice, brothers! For the time of Elranor''s triumph is at-"


    Tanith whirled around and struck him across the face. "Shut! Up! You''re screeching could wake the dead!"


    The villagers surged forward and then halted as Tanith''s blades came out. She was smiling now. It wasn''t like the smiles Relma had seen from her before, condescending or smug.


    There was a blood lust there. Tanith would genuinely enjoy cutting the villagers into ribbons. Still, the villagers were all trained in the militia. They were fighting men in their own right. They had probably seen battle recently, with the skirmishes.


    Stolen story; please report.


    So why was every single person in the town backing away from Tanith?


    They were afraid of her. Was Tanith really that dangerous? It made a certain amount of sense. Why else would Benarus and Lord Marn tolerate her? When everyone had passed, Tanith sheathed her swords in one smooth movement.


    "His voice was giving me a headache," she muttered. Before looking up to Aren. "Who the hell are you anyway?"


    "I believe we were introduced," said Aren.


    "Hmm, yes," said Tanith. "Let me rephrase that. Who are you really?"


    "I am just who I was introduced as, as are we all," said Aren.


    "Sure," scoffed Tanith. "So, I''m supposed to believe a human could live thousands of years."


    "All things are possible with the will of the gods," noted Aren.


    "Maybe so," said Tanith. "But I haven''t seen you killing any Calishans. Or using your supposed ultimate power to destroy any enemies.


    "I certainly don''t believe in destiny or anything which controls my fate."


    "Then what do you believe in?" asked Aren, walking forward.


    "Absolutely nothing unless I can see it bleed," admitted Tanith. "Metaphorically speaking, of course. And Elranor, obviously."


    "That is a sad way to live, Tanith," said Aren, taking a stick from the cart.


    Then he kneeled on the cobblestones and fitted the stick between the cobblestones. Tanith stepped back, raising an eyebrow. "Just what are you doing now?"


    "I''m going to restore your faith," said Aren.


    "I already believe in Elranor," said Tanith


    "Belief and faith are two very different things. As you will see. Do you see this stick? The wood is completely dead," said Aren. "No sorcerer can create life. Only use the life which is already there."


    "Yeah, I''ve met Rusara," said Tanith. "I know that much."


    "Then, in the name of Elranor, grow," said Aren.


    Nothing happened for a moment. Then suddenly, roots emerged from the stick, digging into the ground as it grew upwards. Tanith staggered backward as it grew higher and higher.


    Tanith looked genuinely shocked for the first time since Relma had met her. An array of emotions went across her face as what had once been a stick became a healthy sapling. Pink petals now grew from its branches that stretched outwards. Then it slowed.


    It was young. But it seemed to emanate life itself. Just looking at it made Relma feel like she could run two hundred miles. People clustered around it, awed by its very presence.


    "...That''s impossible!" said Tanith. "No sorcerer could create a life that quickly. Trees take decades to grow. Even the most powerful druids can only manage lesser creations.


    "That''s something that can only be done by... a god."


    "Oh," She paused. "So you are who you say you are. I think this is the part where I ask forgiveness." She looked away.


    "You are forgiven," said Aren. "But if you truly mean what you say, you should show gratitude to this tree, for it has restored your faith. Therefore, I ask that you tend to it and give freely of any of the fruits which fall from it."


    "I''m a mercenary. I can''t just drop everything to look after some tree," said Tanith.


    "There will be a great long-term employment opportunity in this place," said Aren. "And I will see that you have the means to care for it.


    "You may, of course, leave if you wish. I will not stop you. But you should consider my request. "For you and the tree are one. Every day that your spirit grows, so will it."


    "Wait, so if it dies, I will?" asked Tanith, eyes narrowing.


    Aren halted and looked at her uneasily. "I was not speaking literally. Not entirely. Instead, it has been intimately connected to your spirit. So long as it lives, you will have it as a companion in all your lives-"


    Tanith unslung her battle axe and brought it around to strike the tree bark. There was a scream. Not verbal, but spiritual. It went through Relma''s heart, and she felt like she had been stabbed.


    "Wait!" cried Aren. "Stop!"


    But Tanith had already brought her axe down again. She had a mad smile on her face as she cleaved through the bark halfway. Aren raised a hand, and the axe flew from her hand. But the blade had cut too deeply.


    The tree fell, broken to the ground. As quickly as it had been born, it had been killed. And Relma realized the tree was unlike any other she had seen in Gel Carn. Something told her it was unlike anything seen in the world.


    And now it was dead.


    Aren looked terribly old. "...Don''t do that," he gasped. "What have you done?"


    "I''m a mercenary," snarled Tanith, crushing a branch underfoot. "Don''t ask me to take care of something unless you want its limbs broken and its kneecaps shattered." S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You foolish girl!" cried Aren, a sob almost in his voice. "Do you realize what you have done?"


    "Screwed up your little morality play is my guess," snapped Tanith. "I''m a killer, not a gardener."


    "Your fate was bound to that tree!" said Aren, anger entering that voice. "You have now killed it in the flower of youth! Had you... had you stayed your hand, you could... you could have lived to be a hundred. In time, your labors could have brought you peace unknown to mortals.


    "You''ve doomed yourself in your lives henceforth. And worse still, the fruits of that tree would have been able to heal wounds! It could have saved innumerable lives! How many people will now die for the sake of your wrath?"


    "I don''t want to live to be a hundred, you insufferable old fool," said Tanith. "I want to die surrounded by the corpses of my enemies, their blood coating my flesh. Who wants to get old?


    "Who wants to be like you?"


    "And what of your other lives, girl?" asked Aren. "Do you realize that this tree was meant to last across lifetimes? Your future will now reflect what you have done this day.


    "You have brought a curse on yourself that will go far beyond this life."


    "If any of my future lives aren''t like me, then I''d much rather they die young so I can return to being me," said Tanith. "As for the fruits, I''d hate to unemploy all the village healers. But you realize that demand can only keep up if supply goes great, right?


    "Someone needs to read up on economic principles.


    "Anyway, I''m going to get a wood axe. Time to make some firewood. Waste of a good battle axe." And she stalked off. The violation was with Relma. It wasn''t just the tree. She felt as if some horrific spiritual wrong had just been done. Like someone had dug up a grave. Or killed a baby.


    "...There goes a young woman who will come to many tragic ends," said Aren.


    "She deserves them," said Relma.


    "That girl is possessed by the sin of wrath more than anyone I''ve ever seen," said Aren. "She certainly deserves what she brought on herself in this life. I don''t intend to speak for all the rest."


    "Aren, why did you do that?" asked Ronald.


    "The girl is possessed with deep unbalances of the spirit," said Aren, walking away. "If she had only listened to me, this tree could have saved her. Unfortunately, I''ve seen it happen.


    "Sometimes, when I charge someone with the task, they listen and are saved. Other times, they ignore me initially and come back. Others refuse the task entirely and leave the tree to its own devices.


    "I''ve never seen someone foolish enough to destroy the tree out of spite."


    "But why, Tanith?" asked Relma. "She''s a monster. She''d never even consider it."


    "She did consider it," said Aren. "If she had left it, her future lives would have been drawn here. Some would have taken joy from it. Instead, I saw the strands of fate stretching before me. So much evil could have been averted if she''d only left it be.


    "Now it''s all in ruins. What could have been averted will be much worse? Unless something is done to stop it."


    "What can we do?" asked Relma.


    Aren looked down. "We can all try being good people. A small act of kindness can avert the end of civilizations if properly placed. Often it can balance the books of fate."


    "Hey, are you all right?" came Estela''s voice.


    Relma looked up to see Estela helping up the priest. He was severely bruised on the face, and his neck was cut.


    "Yes, I am, child." said the priest. "Thank you."


    Relma ran to him. "Let me help you."


    She set a hand to him and channeled the power she had felt before. It surged into him. The wound knit itself, and the bruise disappeared. And then Relma fell back, lightheaded. Catching herself in a kneel, she looked up. Her entire body ached with the pain of healing.


    She looked at the tree. There was no healing that.


    "...I know you, the chosen one of Elranor," said the priest.


    Relma stood up quickly. "Sorry, you''ve mistaken me for someone else."


    "Perhaps," said the priest. "Perhaps not."


    At that moment, Davian appeared and approached Aren. Aren looked at him. "Yes?"


    "Lord Arengeth," said Davian, "Steward Benarus requests your presence in the manor. He wishes to discuss the coming battle."


    "Right," said Aren, before looking to the people, "if that Tanith girl actually does try to hack up this tree, don''t let her. It may have some use beyond mere firewood. You never know about these things.


    "Estela, Relma, Ronald, come with me. I want you with me."


    Relma and Estela made their way from that place with Aren. And as they did, Relma felt like she had healed a small part of a larger wound. Yet, there was a sense of being watched as well.


    Something had looked down on Tanith''s actions and wept.


    And something else had smiled.

 Chapter 41 - Nineteen: Battle Plans

    They found Steward Benarus in a long room in the manor. It had violet drapes and many officers around him. Marn, Aunt Pan, and Tanith were all sitting at a long, rectangular table. The windows were clear and more extensive than was defensible. Apparently, she had been joking about the firewood, at least. But she looked pleased with herself nonetheless. Sir Frederick was on the other side of the table, hands clasped together, looking grim.


    Relma had heard this place had once been a dining hall where Benarus and his brother, Cervan, had grown up and eaten. But those days passed, and Cervan had a bitter enmity with Benarus before his death.


    Benarus stood up and welcomed them, raising arms to either side. "Aren, Pandora, thank Elranor, you''ve returned. Telix''s forces are about to force the issue. Our sorcerers report that the trees are gathering their power."


    "The trees?" asked Aren.


    "Yes," said Benarus. "They must have subverted the spirits of the land."


    "This is worse than I thought," said Aren. "If Wrynncurth were planning to launch an attack, these are the signs."


    "We can still negotiate. We have our prisoner," said Aunt Pan.


    "We can," said Aren. "The real question, though, is what terms we''ll want."


    "The terms are only too clear," said Argath. "Telix is to depart these lands, never to return. Those he has corrupted will be released and returned to us where we may heal them."


    "Argath, I understand your fervor," said Pan. "But I can''t ask that. Telix will never sacrifice everything he''s gained simply to spare his son. And Wrynncurth won''t cooperate with those terms.


    "Much as it leaves a foul taste in our mouths, we must compromise."


    "And what of the girls he has corrupted?" asked Frederick. "Twisted into mockeries of their former selves? One of us within this room escaped that fate?" He looked to Relma. "I am glad you survived, milady."


    "So am I," said Relma with a sigh. It hadn''t exactly been easy.


    "They''re only commoners, Frederick," said Benarus. Why was he so quick to dismiss them? Surely, Benarus'' feud with Cervan had been about commoners as well. Then again, it had been much more than that. Cervan had many of his minions driven out by Telix, and they had been far worse.


    "They are people," said Frederick, shaking his head. "Their souls formed from the same source and will be bound to the same fate as their master, should he corrupt them."


    "Surely Lord Elranor will understand if it was unwilling," said an officer.


    "Um, it isn''t unwilling," said Relma.


    "What?" said Benarus.


    "Telix uses magic to lull people into a daze," said Relma, remembering his spellwork. "Then he gives them a choice whether to leave or become part of his pack. A lot of them accept. The others, he lets go."


    There were murmurs of horror among the officers. Benarus raised a hand for silence, and it was obeyed. "I don''t like it any more than you do. However, the truth is that my nobles don''t care much if a few village girls disappear. Not enough to risk an all-out war with dragons."


    "It doesn''t matter," said Tanith, leaning back in her chair.


    "What doesn''t matter?" asked Benarus.


    "It doesn''t matter what kind of deal we reach with Telix," said Tanith, spinning a knife into the air and catching it. "He''s a son of Baltoth. His word is worthless. He''ll turn on us the moment we give Ajax back. So we should hack his head off and put it on a pike.


    "Send a message like we did with the Calishans."


    She didn''t believe that, did she? She wanted to start a war. Death was all she cared about. If this did get bloody, it would be a dream come true for her.


    "Wrynncurth''s word isn''t worthless," said Relma, feeling offended and remembering their last meeting. "And Telix doesn''t want to lose him as an ally." Then she paused as she realized everyone''s gaze was on her. Why were they listening to her? She was just some nobody. "Why do we have to make demands?"


    "What?" said Tanith.


    "Why do we have to make demands?" repeated Relma. It seemed a worthwhile question.


    "You are suggesting we let Telix get away with this?" asked Argath.


    "Why not? We started it when we let someone rob a black dragon''s hoard," said Relma. "Telix responded in kind. He didn''t even kill anyone. He ate some livestock and kidnapped some girls, at least until the skirmishes.


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    "And we don''t know their souls will be damned, do we? So Elranor is pretty lenient."


    "Are you suggesting Telix''s cause is just?" asked Argath. There was an edge in his tone.


    "Lord Benarus, if someone robbed one of your nobles, wouldn''t they want their property back. What if someone murdered him in cold blood? You''d want revenge. Right?" asked Relma.


    "We''d be obligated to seek it," admitted Benarus.


    "So let''s just ask Telix to release his control over the girls he turned," said Relma.


    "...We could keep Ajax as a permanent hostage," said Benarus. "In return, we agree to compensate Adrian Wrynncurth for the lost gold. I don''t like making peace with a son of Baltoth, but I don''t like the idea of fighting Wrynncurth."


    There were murmurs of agreement among the men. No one seemed particularly keen except Tanith. Her hands were clenched as she sheathed her blade. She didn''t just look disappointed. She looked angry. Like this was personal. But why would it be personal?


    Tanith stood up and threw aside her cloak. "Have you people lost your minds?! You want to parley with the ultimate enemy of Elranor?! The stalwart warriors preparing for war in Artarq must weep. To know the servants of Baltoth are tolerated in the heart of Harlenor!


    "This is Gel Carn! Anoa himself cleansed this land of all the wicked races! This is the resting place of Lightning Trail! Here is where the Heaven''s Eye was placed for safekeeping!


    "And you want to let Baltoth keep an army within a day''s travel!"


    The men looked at her, and several spoke in agreement. And Tanith smiled. Then she breathed out in relief. As if she''d had a close call.


    Tanith had been there, hadn''t she, when the dragon attacked this place? That had been right after the dragon''s hoard was robbed. The person who stole it had yet to take the money. Instead, they''d thrown it among the fields.


    An act of foolish generosity? Maybe.


    Or it could be by design. They didn''t want to be caught with the gold on them. But if they hadn''t robbed the hoard for money, why? To get a reaction. To provoke a war.


    "What she says is true," said Frederick finally. It is better to have a battle now rather than later.


    Relma could easily see Tanith doing that. And everyone who knew her could say the same. But Relma didn''t actually have any proof. So, this was just a theory.


    "Will having a battle now increase our chances?" asked Benarus. "No. It will not. If Telix attempts the Heaven''s Eye later, we will have ample reason to move against him.


    "Wrynncurth is reasonable.


    "And anyway, the Heaven''s Eye provides its own security. No demon is capable of touching it without being destroyed. Even mortals are hurt by holding it. And in any case, Anoa the Bright lived long ago. Times change. We must change too."


    "Well spoken for a man who has never taken the field of battle himself," scoffed Tanith.


    "Tanith, now isn''t the time," said Argath firmly. "Sit down."


    "No, now really is the time. Do you think traveling from Estal to Gel Carn is cheap? I spent money to get here expecting to be well paid." said Tanith. "And I speak for every other mercenary in this room.


    "So, Benarus, are we still being paid?"


    Around half the men spoke their agreement. Relma had to admit, Tanith had a point here. If she had been waiting a month, expecting battle and plunder, Relma would have been annoyed, too. Not that it justifies her actions.


    Argath paused. "The girl is right. No one will mind if they don''t have to fight a dangerous battle, but they will mind if they aren''t paid for coming down here." He looked to Benarus.


    "You and the others will be given an appropriate sum," said Benarus.


    What if Relma told Benarus her suspicions? How would he react?


    Tanith looked at him with narrowed eyes. "I don''t like the sounds of that. What would you consider appropriate?"


    "You are being paid for a battle you never fought," said Benarus. "It is only fair that the lack of risk is considered. You will receive half the agreed-upon payment."


    "To hell with that, I want double," said Tanith.


    Benarus would do something about it. He disliked Tanith as much as Relma did. No one would care if Tanith ended up in a dungeon. Even if it wasn''t true, people might jump at the chance to get rid of her.


    Dead silence. Tanith really did have a lot of nerve, didn''t she? Benarus narrowed his eyes. "...I am in no mood for jests."


    Relma opened her mouth.


    "Well, I''m not jesting," said Tanith. "You''ve wasted my time bringing me here. Do you know how many Calishan villages the mercenaries here could have burned in this time?"


    "You will take what I offer or nothing at all," said Benarus.


    There were murmurs of anger from the men in the room. Tanith''s hand went to her sword. Frederick responded in kind, as did Argath. So the mercenaries and the knights of Benarus stood with hands on their blades.


    If Relma said something now, there would be a bloodletting. Tanith would fight back, and the mercenaries would do the same. Tanith was a horrible person, but Sir Edward De Cathe wasn''t. He and the others just wanted to get paid and move on.


    "Tanith," said Argath, "I think you should take your payment and leave."


    Tanith met his gaze. Then she let go of her sword. "...To hell with this. I''m going back to work with House Gabriel. At least they have spines.


    "Anyone else, I suggest you leave this cheat to the tender mercies of the wolves he loves so much more than his people. I shouldn''t worry about receiving payment.


    "Benarus seems very quick to overlook his bargains."


    Then she stalked toward the door. For a moment, she halted by Benarus and spat at his feet. Then she left. Several mercenaries walked out with her, looking disgusted.


    Relma could reveal her suspicions now, but there was no point. If she did, Tanith would end up dead or clapped in irons. But Relma wouldn''t reveal what she suspected because she knew it to be true. Instead, she would be doing it because she didn''t like Tanith. That wouldn''t be right.


    "Send a patrol after her," said Benarus to a guard. "Make sure she does no one any harm as she leaves." The guards followed. Benarus sat down and breathed out. "Argath, when you begged my leave to go to war, I never expected you to return with a snake like that."


    "She wasn''t like that at first," said Argath. "I remember when she first came into my service on a recommendation from Raynald De Chevlon. Cheerful. Fresh-faced. Enthusiastic. She helped keep the men motivated.


    "I taught her everything I knew. I twisted her into a monster."


    "Argath, even if you set her on the path she walks, it was her choice to walk it," said Aren, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Just as it is her choice whether she will turn aside. All you can do is try to make amends and not repeat the mistakes of the past." sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Benarus, I will arrange a meeting with Telix. There, we will offer him these-"


    A door was flung open, and a scout rushed in. "Lord Benarus! Telix has come! His armies are coming out of the forest."


    Benarus stood. "Damn. Ready the men for battle and rally the militia! We must not be taken off-guard. We''ll continue this discussion on the walls."

 Chapter 42 - Twenty: The Reveal

    The village walls were manned with soldiers clad in leather with spears and even swords. Militiamen and mercenaries alike were armored and ready for battle. Men with bows and arrows were standing by in good discipline. Some among them were from Benarus'' personal forces. They were clad in chainmail or even plate and wielding swords. A few militias even wielded axes and no shield, but this was not a popular choice. Only a fool would throw away shield protection for more hitting power.


    And Tanith had done just that.


    Lord Benarus wore a beautiful suit of armor inlaid with silver. One that could have looked more practical without. At his side was a fancy sword that Relma doubted would be much good in a real fight. Well, it might, but it would be chipped and ruined at the end of it.


    They made their way through the village, watching as crowds of people fled into their homes. Others left to join the soldiers already assembled. Carts filled with arrows were hauled by oxen near the walls. Relma saw several ballistae being erected behind the walls. Only they were pointing upwards.


    They were meant to kill dragons.


    "Do you think we''ll be able to stop them?" asked Ronald.


    "Possibly," said Pan. "Our best hope is using a hostage. But if it comes to a full-on war, Father and I should be able to even the odds."


    "Benarus, the wolves, will be yours to deal with," said Aren. "Pandora and I will contend Telix. And Wrynncurth if he takes the field."


    "Can you defeat him?" asked Relma.


    Aren remained silent. "I don''t know. If it were Telix, I think so. We''ve had one or two run-ins in the past. But Wrynncurth is another matter. If he actually starts making full use of his magic, I''ll be hard-pressed to hold him at bay."


    "So we are facing the black dragons alone," said Frederick. "No matter, the valor and courage of the men of Harlenor are greater than any shield."


    "I hope so," muttered Ronald. "Wrynncurth can melt shields."


    "It may not come to that," said Aren. "Wrynncurth wouldn''t have returned Relma if he were interested in a full-scale war. But Telix may do something reckless. That is my concern."


    They reached the walls. As they did, Argath looked around. "Where the devil is Tanith? She only just walked out? She couldn''t have gotten far before the warning bell sounded."


    "She left in a fury with all her men." said a soldier. "She told them that Benarus had refused to pay them. Do you think they''ll come back when they see the fighting?"


    "No," said Argath. "Tanith may love war, but she never forgives an insult. That''s how we got here."


    "Permission to join the defense," said Estela.


    Argath looked up and nodded to her. "Granted. We''ll need all the help we can get. But, Ronald, you don''t have to stay if you don''t want to?"


    Ronald shifted nervously, and Relma saw his hands shaking. "Well, I would. But if the wolves get over the wall, it''ll be the end for all of us anyway. And I''ve been a part of all this. So I''d rather not drop out of the story until the end if it''s all the same to you."


    "Fair enough," said Argath before looking to Frederick. "Frederick, would you see that these two are armed for war. I don''t want them coming into an early grave."


    And Relma was forgotten. No one looked at her. Putting her hand to Lightning Trail, she felt a heat within it. Some spell was over her, making her fall from people''s memories. Was Elranor making her unnoticed so she wouldn''t be killed? Or was it for something else?


    Was she meant to do something? Or was Elranor giving her a chance to do something? Relma thought about this as Aren and Aunt Pan moved to other places on the wall. Eventually, Ronald and Estela returned, dressed in chainmail and with new weapons. They held spears and shields. Relma opened her mouth to speak.


    And then she felt fear. The same fear she had felt before. Looking up, she saw Telix. He was only a shadow at first. But then he emerged into the daylight, and moans of despair came from the men. Argath and Frederick stood their ground, but Relma could sense that even they were afraid.


    The wolf demon loomed higher than the walls, and his eyes were flaming red. His white fur stood on end. He looked skyward and howled. It was a noise like death and screams from all over the village. The fear, a dull sensation, came to Relma.


    She wanted to run away. She had to run away. Her instincts were telling her to flee to get out of her. To hide in some out-of-the-way place and let other people handle things. She had to get away!


    Then she saw Argath and Frederick. They were terrified. And they weren''t detached from their fear like Relma was. Relma had no business pretending to be a hero if she broke and ran the minute things got rough. So she held her ground.


    Out of the woods came his broods. Wolves and werewolves were bounding out to stand in great ranks, just out of arrow range. The sound only intensified Telix''s spell. Men and women were throwing themselves to the ground, weeping and screaming. A panic, little by little, began to set in. Sweat dripped from Ronald''s face as they heard it.


    Was Telix''s plan to drive the army into a route without even fighting?


    "Stand tall, men of Harlenor!" cried Frederick. "Stand up and show no fear!"


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    Other officers joined Frederick as the howling continued. Little by little, the men were brought back into order. Relma looked at Estela and Ronald and realized that they had fallen to their knees.


    She didn''t feel the same thing they did? That was odd. Her response to all this was muted. Why? Why did it seem like she saw life through a lens of clarity?


    "The black dragons!" cried someone. "The black dragons have come!"


    Out of the distance swooped the dragons. They circled above, roaring as well. The beat of their wings together sent gusts flowing across the walls. And they roared. The sound was like an avalanche as it mixed with the howls of the wolves.


    It was too much now. Men dropped their weapons and outright fled for the stairs. Argath and Frederick shouted at them, but they were panicking now.


    Then Estela stepped in front of them. Her sword lashed out, and she struck one of the men across the helmet. He fell back, lying senseless. Another tried to slip by, but Ronald knocked his legs out from under him. The stampede stopped.


    "Get back to your posts!" cried Estela. "Before I carve every one of you into food for the wolves!" Argath came forward with several other men.


    "Stand where you are!" said Argath. "Return to your post or lose your heads!"


    Order was restored again. Steward Benarus and Aren returned alongside Aunt Pan. The howls continued, but no one else tried to run. The men had faced their fear, and though they still felt it, it passed through them.


    "...There are many of them, aren''t there?" said Aren.


    Then Aren raised a hand and Pandora with him. There seemed a silent battle then, a contest of wills. The fear that was seeping into everything was driven away. Those who had been overcome stood and resumed their posts.


    "Why didn''t you do that before?" asked Estela.


    "I have been doing it," said Aren. "I''ve been going all over the walls beating back Telix''s fear. Unfortunately, this is merely the last place that needed it.


    "I hate magic."


    The endless howls and roars finally stopped. At last, the dragons landed. Wrynncurth touched down Telix. The two were speaking with one another. Then Anya came forward bearing the white flag of parley. Relma felt a sense of relief that she was still alive.


    "Lord Telix demands the return of his son and the surrender of the border towns!" called Anya. "You will also compensate for the flames started within his forest!"


    "If Telix wishes to make demands, he may do so himself," said Benarus. "And I wish to make a few of my own."


    "Then make them old fool!" came Telix''s roar.


    In an instant, Telix bound across the fields. Before anyone could even launch a shaft, the demon was among them. He loomed over Benarus, and the men recoiled. With a swing of one claw, he could have killed Benarus. And probably a great many other people. Just how fast was he? "And let me spill your blood across the fields of this land!"


    Wrynncurth flew leisurely up to the wall and landed on a battlement. "Calm down, old boy," he said, taking a draft from his pipe. "This sort of unpleasantness is best resolved in parley. I''d rather not wait another sixty years to meet with some human friends. Reigniting friendships after people have been reincarnated is troublesome.


    "What say we establish a meeting and talk this business out?"


    "Where is my son?!" snarled Telix.


    "He is alive," said Benarus, keeping his voice calm. The men around him were trembling. "However, I swear that if you attack any of my subjects, his throat will be cut. Now calm yourself, demon.


    "Will you negotiate? Or will you not?"


    Relma knew this to be a lie. Telix stood a decent chance of killing everyone here and finding his son. He could do so before any orders like that could be carried out. Aunt Pan and Arengeth might defeat him, but they might not.


    It was a bluff, plain and simple.


    Telix looked at her. He was the first person to notice her presence. And Relma could see the thoughts turning in his head. Ajax had been pursuing Relma when he was captured. Relma could not have gotten far with a prisoner like Ajax, so she must have taken him to the nearest location. That location was here. Since Benarus had already mustered his troops, Ajax had yet to be moved. So he was here in this village.


    Telix laughed and grabbed Benarus by the throat, lifting him into the air. The men fell back as Aren raised his staff. "I will not!" he cried. "I will tear this fortress down! All who stand within it will die! And if my son is harmed, you shall rue the day forever! Your fields will be soaked in the blood of your people! All who threaten my family shall lament the loss of all they hold dear!"


    This could have been better. Relma had to do something, or there would be a war. And they would lose. The men were terrified of Telix, and with Wrynncurth, they didn''t have a chance. They couldn''t even bluff their way to victory.


    But Relma had thoughts that couldn''t be read. Her hand fell to Lightning Trail, and she felt less like a person and more like the instrument of a higher power. But it was still her choice. She could act.


    Or she could not.


    "The cities and towns of this kingdom shall burn! Not one shall be spared! Nothing shall be left alive! From the greatest lord to the most insignificant, livestock shall be left alive!


    "We will feast on the flesh of your children''s, children''s children, and you-"


    She acted. Lightning Trail was drawn from her sheath almost of its own accord. The illusion was burned away, and the sword was revealed. But it did not merely reflect the light. Now it sent it flowing out from it so that everyone around her covered their eyes.


    Telix fell backward. Lightning shattered the sky as Relma leaped to the top of a crenelation. She raised the sword that shone ever brighter. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What the..." gasped Telix.


    "Behold Lightning Trail!" cried Relma. "Behold the Blade of the Skies! The sword of Elranor is drawn once more, and destiny is set in motion!" The words didn''t seem her own.


    Telix regained his composure. "So the Heir has come forth, has she? Do you really think to oppose me?"


    "I do!" said Relma, her voice taking on a different tone. "I am the Heir of Kings! The blood of Anoa runs through my veins! The blood destined to end Baltoth himself!


    "But it is not by my hand that you shall fall! For the blades'' light musters the courage of all men! To do battle here will be the death of you!


    "For destiny weaves a thread, and my bloodline shall bring about the end of Baltoth! I am the last of that blood!


    "Dare you to oppose fate itself?! Or will you negotiate and keep that which you have already won?!"


    Telix looked around with narrowed eyes. He apparently could have been more impressed with Relma. But it wasn''t he who she was trying to impress. The men were ready to fight. Their hands were no longer shaking. Now Telix realized he would not be facing a terrified mob. Instead, he met a disciplined and highly motivated army. And among the wolves, there was a strange series of doubtful murmurs. The spell over them was fading.


    He could kill Relma with a flick of his wrist. But that wouldn''t win him the battle. Telix looked up to Wrynncurth, who was perched on the battlement. He looked a little concerned. Something passed between them.


    Telix looked back. "...I will negotiate. Set up a pavilion before the gates. We will speak there." He set down Benarus. Then, he leaped from the wall to walk away. Wrynncurth took to flight and flew after him. Relma breathed a sigh of relief and leaned on the sword. Then she looked up. The soldiers of Harlenor were bowing before her. Kneeling as if she were their King by right of conquest. Even Ronald. Aunt Pan had her face in her hands. Estela had her hand on her sword and was not kneeling. Her face was cold.


    "Well, Relma, you certainly know something of double-edged blades," said Aren. Relma jumped at his voice. "We should have no trouble negotiating now. But, unfortunately, we''ll be negotiating with everyone in Harlenor. That will be for the next six months."


    "...Yes. I completely agree," said Aunt Pan.


    This was going to be a long day.

 Chapter 43 - Epilogue:

    Some days later, Benarus was less than pleased in a meeting room. Relma didn''t blame him. Wherever they went, rumors went out that the Heir of Kings had returned. What had been little more than a morale-boosting bluff was soon expanded. Now, people were speaking as though she had routed an entire army. Now, people were talking about the second coming of the Kings of Old.


    The only consolation was that very few people actually connected it to Relma. The light had obscured her from view to a large extent. It was difficult to reconcile the warrior of legend with a fourteen-year-old child.


    So here they were in absolute silence. The steward remained silent as Aren and Aunt Pan sat across from him. His face was stony as he drummed his fingers against the long wood table. His gaze was not on any of them but on a banner with his house''s emblem. Relma wondered what he was thinking.


    Finally, he looked at Aren with a weary look and let out a long sigh. "We have a problem."


    "I am well aware of the fact, Benarus," said Aren sadly.


    "You assured me that the Heir of Kings would not be unveiled for another generation," said Benarus. He looked bitter. "I never questioned the matter since I have no sons or daughters. I had expected Hadleim to claim his lineage at one point, but nothing came of that.


    "So what exactly is going on here?"


    Benarus had departed the village almost immediately after negotiations concluded. Aren had been more than a little concerned about that and had followed after him as a bird. There had been all kinds of discussions and negotiations among the nobility. Their response to the Heir of King''s return was lukewarm and an understatement.


    "Relma acted on her own," said Pan. "She is a fool but did not mean any harm. And Hadleim''s example should help to pave the way. It has given her credibility."


    "In the girl''s defense, she wanted to avoid bloodshed," said Aren. "And she did just that. We''d have had a battle if she hadn''t unveiled the sword. A great many good men would be dead.


    "And truth be told, I''m not sure we''d have won. It would have been a near thing. And the winner would have been left a shadow of-"


    "I know," said Benarus, raising a hand. "Understand, Arengeth, I can''t yield control to her, not like this.


    "I mean... the finding of Lightning Trail may make for an excellent story. Certainly, no one is more pleased at avoiding bloodletting than myself. But she''s only learning to read. So you can''t expect me to put Gel Carn in her control?"


    "I expect no such thing," said Aren, leaning back in his seat. "I''m afraid that this was never part of the plan." He clasped his hands together and lit a pipe. "Still, it may work to our advantage."


    Benarus hesitated. "What do you mean?"


    "Relma''s father was a hero of the Satyr Wars," said Aren. "He was well known during the wars. And now Relma has found Lightning Trail, stopped a war, and intimidated Telix."


    "I don''t think I intimidated-"began Relma.


    "Yes, of course, you didn''t," said Aren, nodding. "If things had come to blows, he''d have eaten you alive. Telix is a direct descendant of the Wolf Spirit Yamas, one of the devourers of the Alpha. But the stories men are telling are that you did intimidate him." What was the Alpha? Hadn''t that been the legendary god of werewolves that fed itself to five wolves over many lives?


    "How does that help matters?" asked Benarus. "Now, people will be clamoring for her to take the throne."


    "I think you overestimate the power of prophecy, Benarus," said Pan. "Prophecies are fulfilled in their own time and way. And they rarely happen because someone was trying to fulfill it. With a great many setbacks and detours anyway.


    "No, Relma will almost certainly never take the throne of Harlenor Reunited. But she may be able to clear the way."


    "What do you mean?" asked Benarus.


    "Well, Kings don''t take kindly to people joining their company as equals," said Aren. "When a new king comes to power, it takes a few generations before they are accepted.


    "She''s right. If some random farmboy were to become King of Harlenor Reunited, the nobility wouldn''t like it. And he might well resent the nobility. In my experience, the best leadership change is one where things change slowly."


    "Father, get to the point," said Aunt Pan.


    "Benarus, you have had no more children since your son, Aiden, died in the satyr wars," said Aren. "You have refused to remarry. Therefore, you will need an heir."


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    "And I have one," said Benarus, though he sounded reluctant to admit it. "My niece, Fayn. I''ve been pressured to adopt her for some time now."


    "Yes, but you haven''t made anything official yet," said Aren. "So this is what I suggest. Relma will continue her education in Gel Carn, Pandora, keeping a close eye on her. She''ll be trained in everything she would need to know to fill the role she hopes to fill.


    "When we are satisfied with her abilities, we will give her some kind of position of authority. A minor land to look after. Something that will be to her credit if she does well but will be a manageable loss if she fails. If she impresses you, consider ensuring that the succession passes to her.


    "If she works hard and proves herself, Gel Carn might have a Queen. From there, future generations might work to create Harlenor Reunited."


    "What if I am unsatisfied with her performance?" asked Benarus. "It is all very well for commoners to talk about the return of the golden age. But when a King, or a Steward, makes a rash decision, thousands can suffer for it."


    "Then you are under no obligation to do anything you don''t want to," said Aren. And then he smiled. "In fact, why don''t we give Fayn the same deal. One tends to work harder when you have a rival."


    Benarus clasped his hands together. "...And I''ll keep my power no matter what happens."


    "If we must be blunt, yes," said Aren.


    "Good. I have no intention of yielding my position until I am too old for the task," said Benarus. "I expected to have gray hairs when the Heir of Kings first appeared." He looked upward. "Now, Relma has several chores she needs to attend to.


    "Her prolonged absence has caused her to skip a great many."


    "I''ll get her to the dormitories," said Aren. "Pan, you had some other concerns you wanted to bring up with Benarus."


    "I do," said Pan.


    Aren led Relma out. Relma had to admit her plan had worked. Better than she could have hoped, in fact. But at the same time, she felt not guilty but strange. It was weird to be back in Gel Carn as if nothing had happened.


    "Well, my girl, we''ve dodged an arrow or two there," said Aren. "Things should work out well now, assuming everyone does their best. But, of course, that is a rather large assumption.


    "In my experience, people rarely do their best except in the worst situations. Now, I believe you have work to do." sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Don''t remind me," said Relma.


    She got her assigned duties and went about them as quickly as possible. As she worked sweeping, Estela came by.


    "So, how did it go?" asked Estela, an edge in her tone.


    "I''ve been given a chance," said Relma. "And that''s all I need. Just wait, Estela. One day I''ll be King of Harlenor Reunited."


    "No, you won''t," said Estela.


    "You don''t know that," said Relma.


    "No, you won''t because House Vortegex rules Escor," said Estela. "Escor is a third of Harlenor Reunited. My Father will never bow to anyone. And I''m definitely not going to bow to you."


    "Look, can you let me have my moment?" asked Relma, annoyed.


    "I believe your moment was when you stood before an army with a sword surrounded by light," said Estela.


    "But I was terrified," said Relma.


    "Not my problem," said Estela.


    At that moment, Ronald rushed up to her around the corner. "Hey, Relma, good news."


    "What is it?" asked Relma.


    "Sir Frederick has offered me a position as his squire," said Ronald. "He says he has needed one for years."


    "That''s great," said Relma.


    "Good work," said Estela. "What impressed him?"


    "Well, he didn''t think much of starting a fire," said Ronald. "But it was going to rescue Relma in the first place, which impressed him. So I''m going to be Sir Frederick''s squire!"


    "Well, on that note," said Estela, "I heard what happened to Tanith."


    "What was it?" asked Relma.


    "Wrynncurth sent two black dragons to hunt her down," said Estela. "They haven''t been heard from since."


    Relma blinked. "What? How do two dragons just disappear?"


    "Last we heard from them, they were heading to attack. She was crossing the river into the heartlands," said Estela. "They followed after her, but Tanith''s ship arrived safely with her on board. Apparently, the heads of two black dragons were lashed to the bow. She bought the entire crew drinks when they arrived, which was nice.


    "Wrynncurth has his flight scouring the river for the bodies. If he was furious before, he must be absolutely enraged now.


    "Benarus put a bounty on her head, though. One high enough that every sellsword and mercenary in the heartlands will come after her."


    "Tanith will probably just enjoy that," said Relma. "She got what she wanted, after all."


    "She''ll make for Brisgald," said Estela. "That''s up in the north near the border with Seathorius. Tanith''s family has good relations with House Gabriel. So she''ll have an easy time getting a ship there."


    "But can''t we tell them what happened?" asked Relma.


    "Why would they care?" asked Estela. "Even if we said Tanith engineered a war, she''d deny it. And they''ll believe her over someone they don''t know."


    "Well, what about Wrynncurth," said Relma. "He''ll want revenge."


    "Well, yes," said Estela. "But Wrynncurth isn''t going to start a confrontation with Duke Vanion over this. Or at least I wouldn''t. He''s ancient, you see.


    "If I were Wrynncurth, I''d wait for a generation or two. Then take vengeance on Tanith''s reincarnation."


    "But Tanith won''t even remember she did the crime then," said Relma.


    "But she still did it," noted Estela. "To immortals, our identities are masks worn by a greater entity. Either way, Tanith is going to come to a bad end."


    "Because of the tree?" asked Ronald.


    "No, not the tree, you idiot," said Estela. "Because of the way she acts. She''s impulsive, bloodthirsty, and makes enemies wherever she goes. Unfortunately, being a master at killing people can only get you far.


    "Maybe her luck will run out. Maybe she''ll meet someone who is a better swordsman than her. Or maybe she''ll get old and burn out. No matter what happens, she''ll end up lying face down in a pool of blood sooner or later."


    At that moment, Argath appeared. They turned to see him approaching them with a severe expression. "What are you three doing standing around here? Get your gear in place. I want you out in the training yard with all the rest within the hour."


    "Yes, sir!" said Relma.


    Training with a spear and shield was much better than scullery work. And training to lead and rule was something that Relma couldn''t wait to start doing. She wanted to be great. She wanted her name to go down in history, to be spoken of in legends. She wanted to have books written about her. To have children grow up wanting to be like her like she wanted to be like Anoa. As she donned her equipment, she saw Anoa by the doorway, smiling. Then he was gone.


    And Relma knew this wasn''t the end but the beginning.

 Chapter 44 - Book 3: The Spirit of Wrath

    Hi. I hope you all enjoyed adventuring with Relma and Estela throughout the lands of Gel Carn. However, the time has come for us to move from there to the faraway land of Eastern Kalthak. It lies under the dominion of Calisha in the Far East and has its own host of problems.


    I''d love to leave it there, but I need 500 words to post this. So, I''ll write some musings below on the writing process. Read if you want.


    Relma, as a character, had a much less elaborate creation process than William. Originally, she was envisioned as a proactive Chosen One. Like most Chosen Ones'', Relma has a unique destiny and excellent bloodlines. She has magical mentors and faithful companions she is introduced to gradually.


    However, unlike her counterparts, Relma is proactive. She deduces her true identity and makes good of it. Relma was meant to push the story forward instead of waiting for it to pull her. In addition, Relma is a foil because of her physical weakness.


    The instant expert trope is brutally averted. Relma successfully drew Lightning Trail. However, their rematch is a total defeat when the invincible Ajax comes after her. She is not instantly imparted with the skill to defeat a trained warrior because of destiny. Relma succeeds and survives not because of power but because of her charisma and intelligence. Estela and Ronald''s physical abilities are helpful. But they do their best work with other skills.


    In addition, while Relma is the Chosen One, there is a theme that she is not irreplaceable. Anoa X notably qualified for the job and still died. Pandora seems to be counting on Relma''s son to be the real Chosen One.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    However, for me, the most exciting part is the worldbuilding. The book introduces the conflict between Duke Vanion and Gail Arengeth. House Gabriel is almost an antagonist in this book. While they never appear, the astute reader will see many connections on a reread.


    Tanith Telus, the villain who sets the plot in motion, thinks highly of them. Indeed, she is mentioned by William in the previous book to be a childhood friend of his. One who left to go raiding a year before his adventures. Arengeth''s concern about Vanion''s growing power drives him to return.


    Argath Marn, Relma''s mentor, is a former political rival to Duke Vanion. One whom Vanion held in bitter envy for gaining the province of Artarq before him. This, in turn, kickstarted the Brisgald incident that allowed Vanion to destroy Borinius.


    This means that the Dreaming Goddess and the Heir of Kings are two books at cross-purposes. Both present opposing viewpoints on the other side''s cast of characters.


    To William, Duke Vanion is the person he aspires to please, a masterful strategist and hero. One who was denied his rightful due by evil men took it by force while saving the crown. Meanwhile, Argath Marn is a man who took credit for his victories.


    In contrast, Gail Arengeth presents an alternative view. Argath Marn is a good man, even a patriot, ruined by slander. Vanion, in this view, is a social climbing snake, destroying anyone who gets in the way of his ambition.


    Only time will tell which one is true. What is certain is that Vanion and Gail Arengeth despise one another. And it is a vendetta stretching back Vanion''s entire life. S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Okay, I''ve beaten the five-hundred-word minimal limit. I''ll post the chapter after this.

 Chapter 45 - Prologue: The Blade of Chaos

    The Blade of Chaos was as elaborate as the legends Kushina had heard when she was a girl. It had an unholy green glow around the blackish-jagged metal. Its edges were serrated, and the eye upon the pommel followed her wherever Kushina walked. It hated her as it hated all the servants of Baltoth.


    Tuor, tall, broad-shouldered, with tan skin, looked at it fascinated. His white garments believed the blue-eyed serpent within. A smile played across his face, and not a pleasant one. Kushina remembered why she had never liked or trusted him, even when he was Aresh. He reached out with scarred fingers so that they were mere inches from the blade. Kushina lowered her staff and set it to his hand in warning.


    The Disciple of Baltoth he might have been, but that was too far. Tuor drew his hand back and looked at her. His eyes were far older than his body. He was almost forty, though his body showed no signs of weakness. "The Blade of Chaos. It was wielded by the champion of Typhos long ago. Entire armies have been laid to waste by this blade.


    "And now it stands within this shrine. Waiting."


    "You hold that blade in too much fascination, Tuor," said Kushina. "It is the nemesis of Order." Fascination was an understatement; the gleam in his eye could not be trusted.


    "Chaos and Order are but two aspects of a greater whole, Priestess Kushina," said Tuor with a shrug. "One without the other leads to weakness and oblivion."


    "A perfect Order would lead to a paradise," said Kushina. "An imperfect one may be lightened. But perfect Chaos would destroy all. Why did you wish to speak with me?"


    Tuor turned and walked further up the great hall before looking at a suit of armor that once belonged to him. It had been in another life, and for a moment, Tuor looked like that other life. He seemed Aresh again for a moment, the kindhearted man Kushina had grown up with.


    Then he turned around. "Calisha is waning. New enemies have come to replace the old. The children of Baltoth bicker and fight with one another for power. We thrive from the splendor of a great past rather than in pursuit of a better future."


    "There is much that is still great and may become greater," said Kushina. So, where was he going with this?


    "Yes," said Tuor. "If it is allowed to flower."


    "Speak plainly," said Kushina.


    "The inevitable truth, Kushina, is that Order is inherently temporary," said Tuor. "All systems, no matter how well designed, eventually fail. The virtue of those who created it gives way to the degeneracy of the next generation. Or, in the case of immortals, virtue fails, and vices take shape.


    "So all orders must change with time or be overcome.


    "I ask you this: if Chaos is inevitable, why should we not use the chaos to advance the cause of Baltoth?" There seemed wisdom in what he was saying, but Kushina did not trust it or him. She kept a few weeks away and wondered where Schazara, her sister, was.


    "You suggest using the Blade of Chaos?" asked Kushina. Was he mad? Perhaps he was. He had the memories of hundreds of lives in his mind. Disciple of Baltoth he might be, but his agents enjoyed a great deal of autonomy.


    "Of course," said Tuor. "Typhos'' has awoken from her long sleep. With her waking, the sword has begun to grow in power again.


    "Were a worthy wielder found for it, we might use the blade. Imagine it, Priestess. Two warriors of unsurpassed skill, one wielding the Blade of Order. The other is the Blade of Chaos. How we would drive the armies of Harlenor before us and retake Artarq from their degenerate grip.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    "Or, if Baltoth judges it, we might turn or gaze east instead. To Dinis, and the consorts of Zigildrazia. Too long has their depraved empire stifled the power of those within.


    "For Chaos is not in itself evil. But, when a system exists, one that stifles greatness rather than inspires it. When tyrants without virtue preside over a people, they seek to keep them in bondage. Is this not the time when Chaos must reign?


    "We may conjure a great fire in Dinis to consume them! And from the ashes will arise a more magnificent civilization!


    "And if none within Dinis prove worthy to rule, why not Calisha?"


    "You remember the old days of Kalthak," said Kushina. "The days of the God Wars.


    "I have read enough history to know. Blood ran in rivers. Brother murdered brother. Whole cities were burned. Monsters roamed the wilderness, devouring as they willed.


    "Change is necessary. But it must be done naturally with one small action at a time. A small stone cast into a serene pool may create many ripples. But when thrown into a raging ocean, it merely sinks."


    "But if the water does not shift, it will grow stagnant," said Tuor. "Disruption of things as they are is essential."


    "What you speak of is not disruption. It is mass destruction," said Kushina.


    Tuor remained silent for a moment. "What you say is true. But Dinis is our enemy. Their loss is our gain. In any case, I have certain plans in motion. Plans that the Blade of Chaos may be valuable in-"


    "Do you?" asked Kushina, not letting him finish. "Well, it does not matter. Aresh might have had the authority to give such orders. But Aresh left this place long ago, leaving the village to fend for itself. So your son has grown up without you. And since you have left Khasina, I do not acknowledge you as the King.


    "The Blade of Chaos will not be used. Not unless you can get authorization from the Emperor himself."


    Tuor remained silent for a moment. He seemed to be struggling with something, and Kushina saw a glimpse of Aresh. Then he looked down. "...So be it.


    "But there remains the question of what we are to do. The sword''s power was waning for centuries. Yet I have read the strands of fate. Typhos is rising. With her return, it may well call all monsters to it. Do you believe you will be able to contain it forever?


    "How long until it calls out to other powers. One less principled than ourselves?


    "Something must be done. Would it not be better to choose where that great rising occurs?"


    "Something may be done," agreed Kushina. Then she looked to the blade by Tuor''s side, and the obvious presented itself. She felt the will of Baltoth and heard his voice. And she knew what must be done. "Give me your sword, Aresh."


    Tuor looked down at the blade at his side. It was as simple as the Blade of Chaos was complex. There was no adornment of any kind on it. But Kushina could see an unworldly light within it. To Kushina''s surprise, there seemed to be hesitation, for he had wielded it a long time. "The Sword of Order? You would have me relinquish it?"


    "It was gifted to Aresh," said Kushina. "But now you are Tuor. It was forged by the God of Order to counteract the blade here. If the guardians of this shrine have it, then the watch will be that much stronger."


    "You wish it for yourself?" guessed Tuor, an edge in his tone.


    Typical of him. "I am but a priestess," said Kushina. "The sword is not mine to wield. However, I will give it to your son. As Aresh''s heir, it is only right for him to wield it."


    Tuor narrowed his eyes. "I have seen his progress. But, he still has much to learn."


    "How much have you taught him, Tuor?" asked Kushina.


    Tuor shifted beneath his cloak. "...Less than I should. I am the Disciple of Baltoth. I have many duties far afield, and my place... is away. Even if my heart once was.


    "Still, perhaps he could train among my own subordinates?"


    "To what end?" asked Kushina. He was angling at something.


    "Sometimes a different approach to the same problem yields better results," said Tuor. "Sahshir has not prospered here. So let me try my hand as a mentor, if not a father."


    "And I will keep the Sword of Order here for him?" asked Kushina.


    "Until such a time as you deem him ready to claim it," said Tuor.


    Kushina kept Tuor''s gaze for a time. Considering the angles, she sighed.


    "Agreed," said Kushina. "Should the worst occur, I can use it." Or so she hoped; Schazara was too young, only twelve, and Sahshir might never get the chance.


    Tuor looked away. "I do not like leaving a woman with the blade. But we have little choice." S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "When will you leave?" asked Kushina.


    "At once," said Tuor. "Many matters require my attention."


    "Should you not say goodbye to Sahshir?" asked Kushina.


    "I will leave a letter explaining the matter to you," said Tuor.


    Kushina ought to have known that would be his response. Aresh had been a kind man. Tuor was a beast. "That is, of course, your choice."


    She would speak to Sahshir soon.

 Chapter 46 - One: Initiation

    The leaves of trees were scattered before Abdul Sahshir like a funeral procession. They crunched beneath his feet, unable to hide the path ahead. He adjusted his mask as he scaled the slope, eyeing his surroundings. His hand was kept near the katana at his side as he climbed the slopes of Tuor''s fortress.


    His instincts told him he would be challenged.


    His eyes told him there was no one in sight. So he listened. Listened as he scaled every higher. A breeze blew past him, sending a cluster of leaves past him, and he heard footsteps to his left. His blade slid out of his sword in a moment. As it came out, a kunai was set to his throat. Black-clad assassins were all around him with swords drawn.


    Abdul remained silent. One wrong move, and he could die.


    "Drop it," said the leader, far slighter of build than the others. A girl. Very thin.


    "Stay your blades," said Abdul. "I am Abdul Sashir. I have been called by my Father, Aresh." The assassin holding the kunai was smaller than the others, slightly built, and very thin. Female.


    She looked up at him with blue eyes. "We are well aware. If you were unwelcome, you would be dead. Drop the sword."


    Sahshir let go, and the blade clattered to the path''s stones. Their blades were withdrawn. She pulled back her mood to reveal fair features and pointed ears. An elf''s hair was violet, a mark of devotion to Rioletta. "I am Nayasha, the servant of Master Tuor. The name Aresh no longer has any meaning. It is, surprisingly, you are here at all. With such a lack of stealth, you would not long survive."


    Abdul flexed his fingers. As she reached down to clasp the blade at his feet, he slipped one foot beneath the sword and kicked it into the air. As it rose, he caught it. The men around him surged forward, but he weaved past their blades.


    For a moment, their swords flashed in the noonday sun.


    Then Abdul brought down his blade to rest. Its edge was near the girl''s throat. The other assassins were all reeling. "It is not by stealth that I win my battles."


    He felt something and glanced down to see a knife at his side. "Proud words from a proud fool. We would have both died today. And you would have achieved nothing."


    "Had this been a true battle, all your subordinates would be dead," said Sahshir.


    "And you would be a hunted renegade," said Nayasha. "But then, if this were a true battle, you would have been killed before you drew your sword. Must we continue this futile exercise further?"


    Both drew back their weapons. Sahshir sheathed the blade. Nayasha returned the favor with her own gun. "Don''t try that again. I may have been forbidden from killing you. But I can still give you a scar for teaching''s sake.


    "Follow me."


    And so they scaled higher on Tuor''s Mountain. When the Disciple of Baltoth had come here, it was a barren wasteland like most of Kalthak. But he had tended the plants here day after day, year after year. Finally, grass and bushes began to grow. The fields became forests over hundreds of years and many lives.


    Now it was a majestic place. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A place where all manner of trees could be seen. Many Sahshir had never seen the like of. Brought from all over the world.


    "These lands are strange and beautiful," said Sahshir.


    "Do not be fooled," said Nayasha. "There are dangers within this place which would devour such as you easily. We dwell near the land of Dinis, where the world''s laws are warped. And many of the creatures within that place have slipped in here in recent years."


    "You judge too quickly," said Sahshir. "Many of them dwell in the forests of my home as well. Or do you forget what we guard?"


    "You are easy to judge," said Nayasha. "And I did not forget."


    "The writings of Baltoth say, "Look for the man who judges others powerless. For he is easily manipulated." said Sahshir.


    "The words you say are but ink scrawled across murdered trees," said Nayasha.


    "And we are skeletons surrounded by flesh with blood coursing through us," said Sahshir. "Yet we are more than what we are made of."


    "You spout many wise-sounding words for a fool," noted Nayasha.


    "It is written: The wise man knows his limits and strives to exceed them. On the other hand, the fool stands upon his achievements. He says, ''I am the greatest; there is none beside me,''" said Sahshir. He did so purely to infuriate her.


    "Shut up," said Nayasha.


    Sahshir considered this a verbal surrender.


    Soon, they came to the Order of Discipline''s base of operations. The villages that Sahshir would one day were stretched out. They were built in valleys and woods where farming was easy. But Tuor had situated his order on a plateau near the mountain''s peak. The buildings were of stone, not work, and were packed closely together. The roof was slanted like Sahshir''s own, but they had tiles of gleaming blue, not wood.


    At the center of the compound was a round altar. Sahshir sensed a power from it, a radiance. But the source was gone. Once, something of great power had lain there.


    "Is that where the Grail of Immortality once lay?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Nayasha. "It was forged by Elranor, the god of healing, long ago to grant his chosen servants eternal life. Tuor and your father stole it from the Sorcerer Arengeth and spirited it away to Calisha.


    "And here it stood for many years."


    "Until you lost it," noted Sahshir.


    "Garacel is not one to cross," said Nayasha.


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    "Garacel was a Love God," said Sahshir. "One at a mere fraction of his power."


    "He is very cunning," said Nayasha. "And when he raided us, Tuor had not yet returned from his present life."


    "Of course, he hadn''t," said Sahshir. "Garacel was defeated by Baltoth with one corrupt minister." Nayasha looked at him with fury.


    "Baltoth is Inexorable, eternal, and beyond the comprehension of any of us. Yet, his cunning extends beyond this mere reality and has saturated every aspect of the world. His power sets the heavens in motion and harnesses the fires of the earth. All that is his to command.


    "You''ll forgive us if we have not quite his power."


    "It is written, ''There is no excuse for failure save the will to overcome it,''" said Sahshir.


    "A great many things are written," said Nayasha. "And the failure is as much your fault as ours. Tuor usually regains his memories at the age of eighteen. But because of you, he tarried for years before resuming his duties."


    Sahshir almost went for his weapon. Almost. He remembered the day that Father had left. It had been without warning. One day, he watched Sahshir''s training and congratulated him on his work. The next, he had been gone.


    It had been done without so much as a letter.


    At least until now.


    Sahshir was led onto a raised walkway, which led up to a great hall with only one entrance he could see. Two high doors led in. Nayasha drew out some keys and opened the door. They walked into the hall before heading up another set of stairs.


    Finally, she came to the door. Here, she unlocked it. "He waits for you within. I suggest you show less impudence."


    Sahshir met her gaze. "I will show respect when he proves he has earned it."


    "You will not live long, then," said Nayasha.


    She opened the door.


    Sahshir walked through the door and into a strange sight. As he expected, he was within a grove rather than a training hall. However, the skies above were blue rather than red, and no walls were around him. Cherry blossom trees were in full bloom around him. And amid these trees was Tuor.


    He sat cross-legged. His hair had gone completely white, whereas it had been black and graying before. A long iron staff lay beside him, and a cup of tea was by him.


    "Tuor. The disciple of Baltoth," said Sahshir, walking forward.


    Tuor glanced back. Green eyes met his. "So you have come then, son. How fair is the city of my most recent birth?"


    "You know all too well the answer," said Sahshir.


    "True," conceded Tuor. "But questions have many purposes. First, ask someone a question and know them by their answer. Even if they have no information of value."


    "A test," guessed Sahshir.


    "Yes. I wanted to see how you would respond," said Tuor. "I have heard less than flattering descriptions of you, Abdul Sahshir."


    "I don''t care," admitted Sahshir.


    "It is written in the book of Baltoth: The son must honor the father. The daughter must honor the mother. It is by the binds of the family that nations are forged," noted Tuor.


    "Did not Baltoth cast down his father long ago?" asked Sahshir. "Is it not the way of power that the lesser should overthrow the greater? The son must seek to exceed the father, or the bloodline will deteriorate."


    "You speak of ancient history rather than the words of your god," noted Tuor.


    "I follow his words," said Sahshir. "For it is also written; ''Heed not only one source. By understanding many views, you may manipulate all.''"


    "So you would cast aside part of the sacred texts by taking another part out of context," noted Tuor. "I can see why Nayasha dislikes you.


    "Are you certain you wish to accept my training?"


    Sahshir set a hand to his blade. "I have not come here for training."


    "Then why are you here?" asked Tuor.


    "To kill you," said Sahshir.


    He drew his sword and rushed toward Tuor, the blade gleaming. Even as it descended, Tuor snatched up his staff and rolled backward. He remained out of reach of Sahshir''s blade. From there, he unleashed a flurry of rapid stabs that forced him on the defensive.


    Sahshir leaped over the spear as Tuor tried to knock his legs out from under him. Then, flipping over the older man, he brought down his sword at the neck. But Tuor slid his staff backward and struck Sahshir in the gut, sending him falling away.


    Sahshir caught himself and rolled to a kneel. Then, parrying the inevitable counterassault by Tuor, he held him in place. "Hmm, you have some skill," said the master. "I see now that my judgment was correct."


    Sahshir caught the staff under one armpit and slashed at Tuor. But Tuor grabbed him by the wrist as he slashed, and they trapped each other. Sahshir lashed out with a knee, but Tuor countered it. They wrangled and twisted in a stalemate. Then Tuor slammed his head against Sahshir''s forehead, sending him falling back.


    His sword fell from his grip, and Tuor caught it.


    Tuor examined the sword in one hand before spinning it around and offering it to Sahshir. A humiliation. But he would use it to kill his enemy. Sahshir snatched the weapon and wrenched it into Tuor''s hand. The blood spilled from his hand.


    Rising up, Sahshir drove a knife up. But then he was disarmed and pinned in a moment.


    "You hold me in great hatred, do you not?" asked Tuor.


    "More than any other, I hate you," said Sahshir.


    "Do you resent Aresh?" asked Tuor. "Or the Disciple?"


    "Both," said Sahshir. "For the Disciple called my father from my home and left it to be ruled by lesser men. And Aresh abandoned me of his own will, leaving without making any provision for me. So that which should be rightfully mine is now all but taken.


    "Yours is not the first knife that has come for me. And I would rather force you to kin slaying and damn you than wait to be killed or bend the knee."


    "I was never told of this," said Tuor.


    "Then it seems your judgment is not without flaw," said Sahshir.


    "Perhaps." conceded Tuor. "But it does hold authority." He relaxed his grip and walked away.


    "Nayasha, what is the meaning of this?"


    Nayasha emerged from where she had been hidden. "It was necessary."


    "Are you not my servants?" asked Tuor. "Bound to serve me by the authority of Baltoth? Why is it that you have not told me of these events? Or are they lies?"


    "They are not," said Nayasha. "The order judged that for you to know of events in Aresh''s family would be counterproductive."


    "I see," said Tuor. "Leave us."


    Nayasha bowed. "As you command."


    As she departed, Tuor turned to Sahshir. "You came here resolved to kill me. Did it not occur to you that this might be a grave blow to Baltoth?"


    "You would return in a single generation," said Sahshir.


    "You are skilled with a blade, Abdul Sahshir," said Tuor, drawing some bandages from a packet in his vest. "But you lack sense. What if you had killed me? What would you have done here in the heart of my power?"


    "Been satisfied for the few remaining minutes of my life," said Sahshir.


    "And been known as a heretic and a kinslayer for all time," said Tuor. He wrapped the bandage around his hand. "Killing one''s parents is nearly as grave a sin as killing one''s children. Or did you not know?"


    Sahshir had known. He just hadn''t considered it. "I assumed you''d kill me," he admitted after a moment.


    "Never make a plan that can''t survive success," said Tuor. "Getting a useless victory is as bad as a defeat." He tied the bandage with only the fingers of one hand. "So tell me of these knives directed at you, Abdul?"


    "When you left the village, there was no clear leader," said Sahshir. "The rule fell to the priestess Yuna. She kept things for a while, but her mantle passed to Kushina."


    "Your friend from childhood," said Tuor. "She is your age."


    "Yes," said Sahshir. "She was not trusted to rule despite her power. So the running of the kingdom fell to my uncle, Asim."


    "I remember him," said Tuor. "He resented me, that is to say, Aresh, for being born first. I believe he was why Aresh remained dominant for so long."


    "Asim does not wish to cede power to me," said Sahshir. "And my... affliction has prejudiced the villagers against me. So, I have spent my life living in fear of accidents.


    "Because you left."


    "It is written: ''Ambition often is the bane of family,''" said Tuor. "And it was written for a reason. In any case, my invitation came at a good time. You should have viewed this as an opportunity.


    "With my training, I can make you strong enough to crush Asim and force his submission. Or simply take his head if you so desire."


    "If I was satisfied to take his head, it would have been on the floor years ago," said Sahshir. "His son pales in comparison to my skill. His attempts on my life only began once people noted my prowess with a blade."


    "Then why did you not act?" asked Tuor.


    "He has the loyalty of the men," said Sahshir. "It would be a kin slaying without purpose."


    "Then there may be hope for you," Tuor said, smiling. "Let this be your first lesson, Abdul Sahshir. Power cannot be gained overnight. It must be learned through careful study. And mastered through disciplined practice.


    "A power that comes easily is no power at all."


    Then, suddenly, there was a piercing sensation within Sahshir''s heart. White-hot agony shot through him. A blade, now gleaming, was driven through his heart, held by a spectral hand. His vision faded, and all went dark.


    Sahshir awoke. At once, he realized he was within his mask. Rising quickly, he found himself lying in regular clothes on a bed. Was he alive? Yet he had seen a blade pierce his heart? Felt the pain of the wound. I saw the blood drip down.


    He was within a simple room, not a cell. And he was not wearing his mask. Where was his mask? His eyes peered throughout the room for any sign of clothes to hide what was beneath him. Then a door opened.


    Quickly, he fled to the shadows. Nayasha peered through. "You are up. Good." She tossed him a set of black clothes. "Put these on and come quickly."


    "I was dead," said Sahshir.


    "The blade was one of mind," said Nayasha. "The one who died was your old self. Now come quickly; it will not do to be late."


    "Late for what?" asked Sahshir.


    "Your training," said Nayasha.


    So Sahshir began his tutelage under Tuor. He was sixteen years old at the time.

 Chapter 47 - Two: Diamonds in the Rough

    It was the third week since Narcissa and Alkela had run away from the District of Red Lamps where they lived. At least Narcissa was beginning to regret it as they wandered the dark tan streets of Zigilus. They existed wholly to please Zigildrazia, whether in a brothel or on the tiled dark streets. They''d been told that by the gleaming red runes on every street corner. So why had they run away?


    Had Zigildrazia willed that? Did she want them to starve to death? Narcissa guessed she and Alkela could, but...


    It seemed like a waste. Narcissa and Alkela were twins and looked too good to starve.


    Right now, they were eating some bread that Narcissa had managed to snatch for the both of them. As she ate, Narcissa looked up at Alkela. Her twin was eyeing her with resentment. Her hair was messy, and Narcissa hated how the dirt ruined her complexion. Matron Zarana had always kept them looking nice. Now, they looked terrible.


    "Don''t give me that look," said Narcissa. "Stealing food is hard. I know that if we don''t get enough of it, it''ll affect our appearance. But what other choice do we have?"


    Alkela kept on looking.


    "I know that Zigildrazia wants us to be beautiful," said Narcissa. "But she also wants us to follow the rules. If we return, Matron Zarana will have us break Zigildrazia''s laws."


    Alkela looked down at the ground, and they finished their meal in peace. Then, suddenly, there was a low snarling. Narcissa''s neck hairs stood on end, and she grabbed Alkela by the hand, leading her out of the alley.


    Even as she did so, something rushed after them. Risking a glance back, Narcissa saw a raishan. It was a hulking beast in the form of a lizard, and flames breathed from it after them. She pushed Alkela down and put herself over her sister as the fire overtook them. Sweat dripped from Narcissa as she gazed up in horror. The creature loomed over them.


    There were no guards around to save them. So what was it doing out here in daylight?


    There was no time to find the answers. No time to run. The beast lunged.


    And then it stopped. The creature choked visibly as a foam of blood poured from its mouth. It keeled over, and as it did, the top of its head slid off. As the corpse faded away, Narcissa saw him.


    He took the form of a suit of armor. Those worn by the samurai of ancient Kalthak. It was black as night, and a hateful mask was on the front. Yet beyond the mask was no face, only a spectral pink flame. Clutched in one gauntlet was a sword that made her heartbeat just to look at it.


    She knew him, she thought. Perhaps she had always known him. Lord Garacel.


    "Who... who are you?" she gasped.


    "I am Garacel." said the spirit, sheathing his sword. His voice was like metal.


    Narcissa stood up and pulled up Alkela. They had to look their best. "Garacel? You mean... Do you mean you''re the Seeker of Her Radiance? The champion of Zigildrazia? That legendary warrior who has killed entire armies?"


    "I am," said Garacel. "I have not been to Zigilus in nearly a hundred years. Although the world has changed much, it has changed little. I expect she prefers it that way."


    "Thank you, my Lord," said Narcissa, bowing. "Well, uh... we''ll-"


    "Stay where you are," said Garacel. "What are your names?"


    Why was he asking? Did he desire them? They didn''t look very nice now; he was Zigildrazia''s primary subordinate. Was he breaking the rules? "I am Narcissa. And this is my sister Alkela."


    Narcissa looked down.


    Garacel approached, forcing her eyes to his mask with one cold gauntlet. "Where are your family?"


    "We don''t have any, Lord Garacel," said Narcissa. "Our parents sold us to Matron Zarana to pay off their debts."


    "I see," said Garacel. "Where do you seek shelter?"


    "Anywhere we can find it," said Narcissa. "We ran away from... from where we were living some time ago."


    "Can your sister speak for herself?" asked Garacel.


    "She... she can''t speak at all," said Narcissa. "It''s something she''s had from birth. Please don''t kill her, Lord Garacel. I know it''s a disability, but it doesn''t affect her appearance!"


    "You need not fear," said Garacel. "The inability to speak is not a disability punishable by death. It is not punishable at all. It appeals to some."


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    "Thank you," said Narcissa. "We''ll keep moving."


    "Hold for a moment," said Garacel. Narcissa felt like something was gazing deeply into her. "Yes, yes, I sense it."


    "Sense what?" asked Narcissa.


    He looked down at her hard. "Um, forgive me, Lord Garacel," said Narcissa.


    "I sense within both of you the bloodline of the Demonic Archons," said Garacel. "I might have guessed from your appealing appearance. Few street rats are so well-groomed. It is fair, indeed."


    "What does that mean?" asked Narcissa.


    "It means I may have a use for you," said Garacel. "You stand at a crossroads. That demon that attacked you was drawn to you by your bloodline. Unfortunately, those who bear the heritage of Zigildrazia often attract peril.


    "There will be others coming after you soon. Alone and on the streets, you will not survive long."


    "We''ve survived so far," said Narcissa, feeling independent. "And that''s not the first demon we''ve dodged. We''ve just got to stay near the guards. "Grakus like to make snacks of those things. So they pay us to lure them to them."


    "Perhaps," said Garacel. "But if you remained as an outcast, sooner or later, people would realize you were attracting them. You would have to blend in and seek employment. To disappear faceless into the crowds.


    "Even if you desire that the options open to one of your qualities are limited. Tell me, why did you flee from Zarana? You must have known that it would endanger you?"


    "I..." Narcissa felt reluctant to tell the truth. But she found it was being drawn out of her. She could trust Garacel. He was the Seeker of Zigildrazia. "Alkela and I developed earlier. Zarana meant to have us service a client before we were of age."


    "Did she?" asked Garacel, voice cold. "I will deal with her in good time. But, for now, you have a unique opportunity. I wish to offer you a place as my subordinate."


    What? "You do?" asked Narcissa, hardly able to believe her ears.


    "Yes," said Garacel. "I will train both of you in the art of combat. Under my tutelage, you will learn to master the bloodline that runs through you and gain power. True power. You will receive free room and board at the Sanctum of Zigildrazia in exchange for your service. You may advance if you perform your duties well and prove a valuable asset. Perhaps someday, become demons yourselves.


    "I will not force the issue, of course. If you wish, you can return to begging for scraps and being hunted by demons. Doomed to be hunted down or made a victim by an exploitative society. One which values the lower beings only for their bodies.


    "This choice will only come once. After that, it''s yours to make."


    Narcissa stared at him. "...Is there any reason to say no?"


    "You may say whatever you wish," said Garacel.


    Narcissa had never been given a choice like this. Running away had seemed so natural by comparison. For a moment, she hesitated and looked to Alkela, then back. "Yes," said Narcissa. "The answer is yes. Right, Alkela?"


    Alkela nodded.


    "Good. Then I will take you to the Sanctum of Zigildrazia," said Garacel. "First, however, there is one matter that needs attending me. Keep up."


    This must have been why everything happened. Zigildrazia must have wanted them to meet with Garacel in this place.


    Garacel led them through the black-paved streets and back to the District of Red Lamps. There, they came to the place Narcissa had called home. It was a three-story, square building with elaborate brown pillars on the front. Spells had been inlaid into the stonework so that it shone hundreds of pink lights outward.


    The lights spelled:


    Zarana''s Delights.


    As they approached, Narcissa prayed that Garacel wouldn''t hurt Zarana. She and Alkela were going to be employees eventually. So, what did it matter if they were employees a few years early?


    She tried to say this, but then the red runes everywhere gleamed in her eyes. Narcissa found herself relaxing, oddly enough. Garacel was the Seeker of Her Radiance; he knew best. They entered the bar.


    Sera and Ansora were dancing on their poles for the entertainment of patrons. Patrons cheered and drank and threw coins. Sera and Ansora were doing very well today, dancing to the music skillfully.


    Narcissa remembered a time when she had dreamed of being up there. Dreams that grew stronger when she was lying awake in bed. Looking into the red runes. She knew that she and Alkela were beautiful to look at now and were twins. That added value to them.


    Garacel raised a hand, and the music halted. It wasn''t that the musicians had ceased to play or the instruments broke. Wind simply did not come from the wind instruments. The strings ceased to twang. All the patrons looked up to see Garacel in fear.


    Zarana came forward, brushing some strands of black hair from her face. She strove to speak. But Garacel beat her to it. "Matron Zarana." S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Lord Garacel..." said Zarana. Her voice was small, and she was shaking. Several patrons tried to get up and leave, but Garacel just looked at them. They sat back down.


    "I received a distressing report." continued Garacel, voice low so only they could hear. "These children tell me you intended to have them begin work before they came of age. Is this true?"


    "Of course not!" said Zarana. "Narcissa is a nice girl but prone to telling lies. Please don''t take her seriously. I was apprehensive about her." She had been. Narcissa caught the look of betrayal in Zarana''s eyes and shuddered.


    She hadn''t meant to tell Garacel. It had just happened.


    "I have a policy of giving everyone I speak with the benefit of the doubt," said Garacel. "However, I should warn you that you will suffer if my investigations reveal you are lying. Zigildrazia is very firm; the children should not be exploited."


    "You won''t find anything. I promise you," said Zarana.


    "Good," said Garacel. "These two are being taken to the Sanctum of Zigildrazia. You are to cease any searches for them."


    Zarana nodded. "I understand, of course."


    "Good," said Garacel. "Pray that I do not come here again." Then he looked to Narcissa and Alkela. "Come, both of you. We have work to do."


    Narcissa obeyed. She hoped Zarana and the others didn''t hate her now. As they walked, however, she caught sight of a red rune. And all her concerns faded. It just didn''t seem important anymore.


    A question occurred. "Um, why did you come here, Master Garacel?" asked Narcissa.


    "I was looking for you," said Garacel.


    "But you didn''t even know who we were," said Narcissa.


    "I knew there was a rising power in Zigilus," said Garacel. "So I sought it out. As it turns out, there were two of them."


    "Do you do this often?" asked Narcissa.


    "Child, I am the Seeker of Zigildrazia. One of my primary responsibilities is to find powers such as yourself," said Garacel. "Have you ever seen the Sanctum of Zigildrazia before?"


    "No," said Narcissa." Are we really going there?"


    "Yes," said Garacel. "I think you will find Her Radiances accommodations far preferable."


    So Narcissa and Alkela entered the service of Zigildrazia. They were fifteen years old at the time, and Alkela was the younger.

 Chapter 48 - Three: Into the Sanctum

    The Sanctum of Zigildrazia rose high over the entire city with many domes and gargoyles. When you stood on top of a rooftop, you could see it from anywhere between the three gates of Zigilus. But it had never dawned on Narcissa how huge it was when she came beneath the shadow of the immense cathedral. The enormous black double doors were more than three times her height. Dozens of statues were on the steeples and towers. They were shaped like posing succubi with huge breasts and wide hips.


    Just looking at the temple made Narcissa''s heart flutter. What kind of untold depravities and horrors occurred in a world like this? Narcissa had a mental picture of herself and Alkela being bound to an altar in Zigildrazia''s name. Maybe ritually sacrificed. Would she look better hanging from chains? "Look at this, Alkela. It is huge!"


    "Have you never been here?" asked Garacel.


    "Zarana always kept us on a close leash," said Narcissa. "And after we ran away, we were kept out of this district. We weren''t well dressed enough."


    "It isn''t the dressing by which it is determined who can enter," said Garacel. "In any case, stay quiet. And stay close. The Sanctum of Zigildrazia could be dangerous for you. At least, if you were separated from me before, you are well known.


    "We''ll take the back door." And he began to walk.


    Narcissa and Alkela walked behind him, feeling a bit disappointed. She''d wanted to make a grand entrance, but that wouldn''t happen now. "Why the back?"


    "Mass is in session, I believe," said Garacel. "Though Her Radiance often changes the times and days on a whim."


    "Mass?" asked Narcissa. "I remember Zarana never took us there. She said it was for degenerates."


    "Yes, well, that remains a matter of perspective," said Garacel as they approached a side door. "I will admit that including exotic dancers may have been going too far.


    "Come."


    And he rapped on the door. For a moment, he waited. Then the door slid open, and a thin old man looked through. He wore concealing black robes and had wispy, graying hair. Garacel somehow looked surprised, even if he had no facial expressions. "Illaryus, I see you still live."


    Illaryus cracked a smile that revealed crooked teeth. "Yes, for the moment. However, I''m afraid my days as Battleluster of Zigildrazia are far behind me. Who are these you bring with you?"


    "They are Narcissa and Alkela, twin sisters," said Garacel. "These are those I sought. The temple did receive my message, did you not?" sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I did, of course," said Illaryus. "It a pleasure to meet the two of you. I''m Illaryus, the Head Battleluster of Zigildrazia."


    "I''m Narcissa, um, aren''t you a bit... uh... old?" asked Narcissa. She''d always been told Battlelusters were immensely handsome and beautiful without flaw.


    "Yes, well, time catches up with all save Her Radiance," said Illaryus. He turned and motioned for them to follow. "My glory days are behind me, but I can still drive a sword home. As for my age, there are spells to make one''s features appear younger, but they are superficial.


    "My joints still hurt like anyone else. And the spell left me feeling... stretched. Given a choice between the truth and a lie, I decided to take the truth. I can''t exactly attract young maidens anymore, but that is all the moot point at this stage."


    "You seem to have settled into your duties well," said Garacel. "It has been... seventy years, I believe?"


    "Sixty-three," said Illaryus as they walked.


    "You handled yourself very well against the Kalthakians then," said Garacel. "I don''t believe I ever had the chance to tell you that."


    "It was my pleasure, Lord Garacel," said Illaryus.


    The halls they walked through were of black stone. And something about their dimensions seemed wrong. First, their angles were jagged; then, when you looked hard, they went smooth. Narcissa hoped they would have to spend less time in here.


    "Of that, I am sure," said Garacel. "I remembered you laughed as you cleft a bloody swath through their ranks. It was a memorable event.


    "Do you feel capable of instructing these two in battle?"


    "It would be my honor, of course," said Illaryus. "We''ve had precious few Battleluster potentials of late, I''m afraid. The order is aging."


    "But why are there so few?" asked Narcissa.


    "Zigilus isn''t quite the same as it once was," admitted Illaryus. "There isn''t as much enthusiasm. And since we became part of the Dinis Empire, people prefer the stability of the legions. At least to the bloodcurdling fury of axes and swords."


    They came to a large hall. There were long tables of brown wood with many stools by it. A large stone stage was at the far end of the table, with poles rising from it.


    "This is where our meals are eaten," said Illlaryus. "There is usually entertainment provided."


    "Excellent, then I will take my leave for now," said Garacel. "I have much work to do here and must go." He turned to walk away.


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    "Lord Garacel," said Illaryuys.


    Garacel halted and glanced back. "Yes?"


    "There is still the matter of the paperwork to fill out," said Illaryus.


    "Could not you deal with it?" asked Garacel.


    "I''m afraid not. You will have to fill it out yourself," said Illaryus. "Those are the rules."


    "My hands are metal gauntlets," said Garacel. "Clutching a quill usually breaks it. And the spikes on my gauntlets usually knock over the inkwells."


    "I could write it for you," said Narcissa, wanting to be helpful. "Zarana taught me how."


    "I''m afraid you aren''t of sufficient rank for that, young Narcissa," said Illaryus, smiling.


    "No, but I mean, Garacel could dictate, and I could write down what he says," said Narcissa.


    "I would greatly appreciate that," said Garacel.


    Garacel and Narcissa went to a dark room where paper and a quill were provided. Garacel stated a long paragraph of elaborate words. Narcissa did her best to keep up, but several times, she had to ask him for the spelling. Alkela merely watched. She had never learned to write.


    Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Narcissa''s neck stood up. Her pen stopped, and she looked up to the door. There, leaning against the doorframe, was a man. He wore a long tan cloak and black boots. His skin was as black as night, and a broad-brimmed hat was on his head. "The Seeker of Garacel in action. It is always a pleasure to observe such valiant feats of arms. And done through a child?"


    His voice was smooth, and there was something slimy about him. Narcissa did not like how he looked at her and Alkela. It was more like a hungry animal than a person admiring a prostitute. Narcissa didn''t think it was appropriate.


    Garacel glanced up. "Dakan. What are you doing here?"


    "Observing," said Dakan with a smile. "As always. And also fulfilling the mission you sent me on..." He drew out a letter and opened it before handing it to Garacel.


    Garacel scanned over it. His light burned paler. "So, the Blade of Chaos has begun to manifest. This is precisely what we needed."


    "Shall I-" began Dakan with a smile.


    "No," said Garacel. "Not yet. In time, the sword will call out to us. When the call arrives, we will heed it. But for now, it is too weak."


    "Very well then," said Dakan. "I shall ask the Emperor to postpone his invasion."


    "Don''t be a fool, Dakan," said Garacel. "Even Dinis cannot muster an army in a few days. And the Emperor is still working to consolidate his hold over the church."


    "What church?" asked Narcissa.


    "Missionaries from Elranor arrived some time ago," said Garacel. "They''ve been working on the Emperor for some time."


    "But Zarana is from the capital," said Narcissa. "She said that Elranor has been worshipped there for fifty years."


    "Yes, of course," said Garacel thoughtfully. "That is a considerable amount of time for you. But, in any case, they and other foreign gods have been working to undermine Her Radiance''s power. They''ve even gone so far as to outlaw Her Radiance''s most sacred rites in all cities save Zigilus.


    "We suspect he intends to bring his ''reforms'' to Zigilus soon. And we are taking measures against such a possibility. That is all you need to know." He folded the letter and rose to his feet. "Come, we will bring these to Illaryus. Then we will part ways for a time."


    "Yes, Master Garacel," said Narcissa.


    She and Alkela followed Garacal past Dakan. As they did so, Dakan''s eyes narrowed at them. He licked his lip and then looked to Garacel. "A pair of beautiful young girls you have there. I''m sure Zigildrazia will appreciate them."


    "They are not for that," snapped Garacel, voice holding a note of fury.


    "Then what are they for?" asked Dakan.


    "You already know or suspect the answer," said Garacel. "Get out of this place before I find occasion to have you arrested."


    Dakan shrugged. Then he faded into the shadows and emerged down the hall. He bowed with sarcasm. "As you command, Lover Eternal."


    As he went away, Narcissa looked to Garacel. "Lover Eternal?"


    "A relic of a past best forgotten," said Garacel.


    He said no more as they walked. They found Illaryus reading a book in a library. The priest glanced up as Garacel approached and gave him Narcissa''s work. "Illaryus, I have the documents you requested."


    Illaryus took it. "Thank you, Lord Garacel. I have made provisions for these two. If you follow me, I''ll take you to your quarters."


    So they parted ways with Garacel. Illaryus led the twins through the halls. As they did, his eyes narrowed. They were passing a door with two statues of succubi on either side. "Stay close. Do not wander off or take any side passages. Things go on in this place, which could result in your life taking a less-than-ideal path."


    "What do you mean?" asked Narcissa.


    "Do you see that door?" asked Illaryus. "That leads to the east wing. Never go there. That is where mortals are transformed into slave succubi."


    "You mean... you mean those mindless pets they transform criminals into?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes," said Illaryus. "Their creation was arranged after the fall of the Demon King Diabolus. As the succubi grew in power, demon lords began to desire consorts who were less likely to betray them. To this end, Zigildrazia created the slave succubi ritual.


    "It transforms ordinary mortals into ideal consort material. They have the pleasures and appearance of an ordinary demoness. But with none of the dangers."


    "Why are they less dangerous?" asked Narcissa.


    "To ascend to become a demon, one must grow in power. Your spirit must increase. It must grow to the point where your spirit breaks free of mortal bonds," said Illaryus. "The mortals who become slave succubi never reached that point. Instead, the process stretches their spirits and bodies, breaking their will.


    "It is a process similar to that of creating raishans. But with a very different end.


    "In any case, the point I was coming to is that you want to avoid being caught in the wrong place. Some of the demons here may take advantage of you."


    "But Zigildrazia has outlawed taking advantage of anyone not of age," said Narcissa.


    "Why should that matter?" asked Illaryus bitterly.


    "Well, this is her sanctum," said Narcissa. "Shouldn''t the demons here follow her rules?"


    "Child, let this be your first lesson," said Illaryus. "Rules are something that is applied to the lower classes. The more powerful you become, the fewer rules that apply to you. That is the secret of true power."


    "That... that doesn''t seem right," said Narcissa.


    Illaryus looked bitter. "Right and wrong are but words. There is no real truth to them. Now come, your training will take place in the eastern wing. That area is set aside to protect potentials, and the rules are enforced there."


    "Why enforce the law in one place but not another?" asked Narcissa.


    "If we didn''t enforce the law anywhere, we would never get anything done. And if we enforced the law everywhere. Her Radiance wouldn''t be a demon," said Illaryus, smile returning. "Would she?"


    Narcissa shifted nervously. That did make sense. Her Radiance couldn''t do anything wrong, after all. "...Fair enough."


    They would be with the temple for two more years before the legions came.


    "That... that doesn''t seem right," said Narcissa.


    Illaryus looked bitter. "Right and wrong are but words. There is no real truth to them. Now come, your training will take place in the eastern wing. That area is set aside to protect potentials, and the rules are enforced there."


    "Why enforce the law in one place but not another?" asked Narcissa.


    "If we didn''t enforce the law anywhere, we would never get anything done. And if we enforced the law everywhere. Her Radiance wouldn''t be a demon," said Illaryus, smile returning. "Would she?"


    Narcissa shifted nervously. That did make sense. Her Radiance couldn''t do anything wrong, after all. "...Fair enough."


    They would be with the temple for two more years before the legions came.

 Chapter 49 - Four: The Return

    Sahshir was meditating.


    His eyes were closed, but he could sense them. Feel their heartbeat. Feel the vibrations of their feet on the wood, even if they were not making a sound. Cross-legged, he waited, sensing around him.


    There were five of them, one coming from a panel above, two from the doors around him. The last two were below the floor.


    He was supposed to be hunting them.


    But why hunt when remaining still would draw them to him all at once.


    The doors opened. The floor and ceiling panels were thrown away. In came the rival assassins. Their blade cut through the air toward him from many directions.


    At that moment, he sensed where each blade would end up. His heart, his neck, his stomach. The others were there in case he dodged, to hem him in. He felt the will of the wielders behind the blades, their confidence. Rising, he moved aside from a stab, even as he ducked under the strike meant for his neck.


    Out came his blade, and he raked it across the man''s throat, meant to hem him in. They collapsed bonelessly, even as he turned to the other four. They approached him with coordination, but the leftmost one was out of formation.


    Sahshir rolled to that one''s side and brought his sword to their stomach. Shoving their limp form against the one beside him, he sent them tumbling. Leaping over their falling forms, Sahshir brought down a splitting strike to the head. Three down, two remained.


    Landing, he turned a counterattack from the rightmost assassin. Twisting, he plunged his sword into his heart. The last untangled himself from the limp form of his comrade. Before he could move, Sahshir passed him, slashing his sword through his stomach and out the other end. He would be cut into two pieces if it had been a standard sword. As it was, he collapsed. Sahshir turned the Ghost Sword and sheathed it. From there, he went back into a cross-legged position. He continued his meditations until Nayasha entered the room.


    "Well," said Nayasha, "that is one way to complete a mission."


    "I judged it to be the quickest solution to the problem," said Sahshir.


    "Your task was to escape the castle," said Nyasha. "Not kill every other person inside it."


    "Now that they are dead, I can leave at my leisure," said Sahshir. "And my name will be feared. So future enemies will desire to avoid my wrath."


    He''d left several dozen other such assassins collapsed.


    "That is true," said Nayasha. "However, you were also supposed to use stealth. Ambush. Deliberately putting yourself into positions to be ambushed to demonstrate your superiority."


    "I have practiced stealth much," said Sahshir. "The ability to sense life force, however, is something I have not. Using it, I could determine where they would strike and turn their ambush against them."


    "There are circumstances where detecting lifeforce in someone can injure you," noted Nayasha. "Gazing into the spirits of demons, for instance, can break you mentally. And demons sometimes appear in other forms.


    "The next time we do this exercise, I expect you to perform it in the manner it was intended to be won." The other assassins awoke and looked up as Nayasha looked down at them. "And don''t think that you are any better, Ashar. You became overconfident when you realized Sahshir was not running. By the time you started taking him seriously, he had already defeated many of your group."


    "You said there would be a reward for the group that defeated him," noted one of them.


    "Yes. It is another test," said Nayasha. "I wanted to see if you could cooperate when one of you would be rewarded greater than the others. You would surely have been victorious had you come at him all at once.


    "Moreover, when he had defeated most of you, why did you not run down the clock?"


    "Run down the clock?" asked Ashar.


    "Yes," said Nayasha. "In this setting, it was only a matter of time before reinforcements arrived. Your force was only a vanguard. You would have won by default if you had merely delayed Sahshir a few hours.


    "You could have avoided a confrontation with him until he decided to leave or seek you out. In that circumstance, you would have reversed his advantage. You could have picked the field of battle. Instead, you continued to play to his strengths."


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    "I understand," said Ashar.


    "Good," said Nayasha. "Sahshir, you wanted to speak with Master Tuor after this. Go to him. The rest of you get together and prepare for more practice."


    Sahshir nodded.


    He had learned over his time here that this place had innumerable passages and secret ways. In the first few of these sessions, he was defeated and caught through them many times. Now, he used them to reach the sanctum of Tuor.


    This time, the cherry blossoms were nowhere to be found. Instead, Tuor was meditating in a wasteland with the same red sky you saw everywhere else. The violet sun glared brightly at him, and his expression was a scowl.


    Sahshir kneeled before him. He wondered if Tuor would allow what he requested. "They are defeated, Master Tuor."


    Tuor looked up, eyes opening, and a slight smile crossed his lips. "Excellent. You have advanced much in the time you have been under my tutelage. Your skill has increased exponentially. A gift of our bloodline, I expect.


    "But I can sense you are nervous. Your posture and breathing change informs me that you have come to ask something of me.


    "What is it?


    "I have been gone from my village for six months," said Sahshir. "Much may happen in that time. I desire to return there and ensure that all is going well."


    "Is it?" asked Tuor.


    "I also desire to settle matters with Asim," said Sahshir.


    "An admirable resolve," said Tuor. "However, to slaughter him and his men would be most unwise. You have my permission to humble him and his men. But none of them will die by your hand if you wish to remain my student."


    "Why?" asked Sahshir, resentment in his tone.


    "You have neither the time nor experience to administer the kingdom you seek to reclaim," said Tuor. "It would be better if you left the one who has been minding those affairs alive for the time being. A civil war would be most unfortunate. Are these terms acceptable?"


    "They are," said Sahshir. He could wait.


    Tuor nodded. "Then you have my blessing, of course. Go, and take as much time as you need. Within reason, of course."


    Sahshir nodded and rose. He departed the sanctum and quickly made his way through the fortress. As he began to descend the paths where spring was blooming. He halted and looked to the shadows where Nayasha was sitting in a tree.


    "You are going, then?" said Nayasha.


    "I am," said Sahshir.


    "Would you like me to escort you?" asked Nayasha.


    "No," said Sahshir.


    "As you prefer," said Nayasha. Then she departed.


    The journey back to his village took days and led him through several areas with less life. Several times, he would look west and see the Kalthakian wastes. The vast desert created in the War of the Gods ages ago stretched outward. Distantly, the moans of the dead could be heard at night.


    Soon, the trees gave way to fertile grounds. He saw farmers tending their fields. When they saw him, they greeted him with enthusiasm. A reminder of Asim''s presence. He''d become popular since he took power as regent, of course.


    As he reached the town of Khasina, Sahshir reflected that the town was becoming too humble a word. It had grown greatly since the days when Sahshir''s namesake lived. The original Abdul Sahshir had settled his clans in this place. Fighting many wars, he married a Dinisian Princess. Tents had become huts, and huts had become houses.


    Now, it stood surrounded by high walls of red stone. Armed guards patrolled the walls with spears and shields. Sahshir drew out the rope, a grapple he had always been trained to carry, and hurled it up to the crenelations. Scaling up, he slipped past and made his way down into the city. He could have done the same within the rope, but this took less work.


    Neither the guards nor the city watch saw him.


    Sahshir made his way through the market. As he did, he observed the people going about their business. Then there was a crash. He saw several Asim''s men casting down a table of goods as a merchant cowered.


    "How dare you try to cheat me?!" snarled the man.


    "Sir," said the merchant, "the price has become higher because of a lack of supply-"


    The guard kicked the merchant. "Don''t talk back to the warriors of Lord Asim! Or you''ll regret it!" Sahshir noted the anger of the crowds. They were afraid, but they were also furious. They would remember this.


    "Damn mercenaries," muttered a man. "They''re always throwing their weight around. Did you ever hear what happened to Abdul Sahshir?"


    "No," said another, "he just up and vanished. We''ll probably never hear from him again." sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You may," said Sahshir as he emerged.


    The two men looked up in surprise. "Prince Sahshir, we... we did not expect you."


    "I am not here as a Prince," said Sahshir. "I have returned to set things right. However, I have been forbidden from killing Asim or any of his men. He does not want there to be a civil war."


    "Well, if you can manage that, we''ll be very happy men." said the merchant. "Ever since you left, things have only gotten worse. There are rumors that Asim means to make himself king. And his thugs do displays of dominance like that all the time."


    "What was the reason for that attack?" asked Sahshir.


    "Asreth made some choice comments about Asim''s rule," said the man. "He said over cups that the charges would never have happened in King Aresh''s day."


    "I see," said Sahshir. "What is your name?"


    "I am Mohas," said the first man, "and this is Bangdel."


    "Very well," said Sahshir. "I want you to get me a list of everyone you can think of who has suffered at the hands of these thugs. Do so, and make a list accurate, and you will earn my sincere gratitude.


    "And say nothing of my presence."


    They nodded. "It will be as you say, my prince," said Mohas.


    "And if either of you betrays my presence," Sahshir paused, "I am bound not to kill Asim or his men. You are neither. Am I understood?"


    "Yes," said Mohas.


    "Good," said Sahshir. "I will be in touch."


    He faded into the shadows and scaled up the roof before making his way toward the palace. As he did, he contemplated all the different ways he could remove Asim from power without killing him. Some of them were very appealing.


    But he was not here for Asim''s blood. He was still waiting.


    Eventually, he reached the palace. The gates loomed before him, but there was a shrine nearby. The shrine where the Blade of Chaos was stored. He took a side trip them, making his way in. And there she was.


    Kushina was sweeping the leaves from the shrine. The dark-haired priestess held a broom in one hand. On the top of the broom was a spearhead, largely symbolic. When they were children, he''d always made a game of trying to sneak up on her. He''d never succeeded, however. On a whim, he turned from his mission and crept toward her from behind. Approaching, he raised a hand to touch her shoulder.


    "Don''t even think about it, Abdul," said Kushina. "Where have you been? You said you''d visit."


    Sahshir remained silent for a moment. "Tuor did not permit me to return."


    "Of course he didn''t," said Kushina. "Well, come inside. I''ll make some tea."

 Chapter 50 - Five: Succession and Tea

    The tea was excellent, as was usual. Kushina used the right mix of herbs so that it woke one and soothed the nerves just by the aroma. The presence of lavender on one side in boiling water soothed the nerves. As they kneeled within the shrine''s great hall, Kushina brought her tea to her lips and sipped it. Sahshir allowed his mask to fall and swallowed it, careful not to look at his reflection.


    After a moment, she set down her cup and smiled. It was a stern, controlled smile as she usually did. Kushina had never been one for open displays of emotion. "I must admit, I''m surprised you made it back into the city without anyone knowing. I suppose Tuor did well by you in training."


    "He did," said Sahshir.


    There was further silence as she seemed to contemplate her response. "I''m sorry about what Asim did," said Kushina. "I''m afraid that one of his spies overheard my conversation with Tuor. I believe he became afraid of this very thing."


    "He should fear me," said Sahshir. He brought up one gloved hand and looked at it. How long until the skin beneath it withered away?


    "Are you here to kill him?" asked Kushina. "To stand on your rights and cut him down?"


    "I have been forbidden from ending his life or the lives of any of his subordinates," said Sahshir. Why? Why should Tuor insist on that?


    "So then you are looking for a means to remove him from power. All while making him wish you could have killed him," guessed Kushina.


    "I may not be," said Sahshir.


    "I know you, Sahshir," said Kashina with a laugh. "You have a vengeful streak a mile wide. You''ve never forgiven Sushaki, even though he only did his duty. But, unfortunately, there are better times for you to act. If you move against him, there may be a kin slaying.


    "And the armies of Dinis are moving."


    "Armies?" asked Sahshir, raising an eyebrow beneath his face. "You mean the legions? Or one of their vassals?"


    "The legions," said Kushina, shaking her head with closed eyes. "I spoke with the birds. They tell me of vast hosts of legionaries marching toward Zigilus. That is just over the border. Using the airships of Zigilus, they could move very quickly to our doorstep."


    "The airships fail when they go too far, however," said Sahshir, remembering what he had learned in his youth. "They cannot go far beyond the source of demonic energy."


    "True," said Kushina. "But it gives them a unique capability to move within that area. This is the first time anyone has managed to win a battle against the defenders of that place. Or have you forgotten your grandfather?


    "He was a great leader of men who had won many battles. Decades ago, at the zenith of his power, he boasted that he would seize Dinis and quench the flow of monsters. He led a great host. But even as his armies met Garacel''s, the airships came from above. The Battlelusters of Zigilus fell upon them, and he was routed. Without Asim covering the retreat, our armies would have been annihilated.


    "We owe him an outstanding debt.


    "Even so, it was the worst defeat we ever suffered. That day, the territory of Zigilus expanded by ten miles, and now they are very near our towns. King Aresh spent most of his time leading the recovery from that disaster. And we have only just stabilized. The western Kalthakians under King Belosh look down on us scornfully.


    "It is written-"


    "''The fool seeks battle on the demon''s own ground,''" Sahshir finished for her. "I know the texts."


    Priestess Yuna had drilled the matter into him for years and years. He looked on those earlier days with some fondness.


    Then the door opened. A young, black-haired girl rushed in. She was clutching her broom. "Big sister, big sister!"


    "Sczhara," said Sahshir. "You''ve grown." So what did this nuisance want? He wasn''t in the mood for pretending to be nice to her.


    Schzara halted. "Sahshir, I haven''t seen you in months and months. Where did you go?"


    "Elsewhere," said Sahshir. With luck, she wouldn''t press the matter.


    Why did this girl insist on bothering him whenever he came here?


    Kushina stood quickly. "Schzara, how is the sweeping coming?"


    "Really well," said Schzara. "I cleaned the entire terrace myself and everything. So all my chores are completely done."


    "Well then," said Kushina, "why don''t you go find some other children and play?"


    "I don''t like them," said Schzara. "They say you''re just a placeholder."


    "Then find some of the others," said Kushina. "I''ve trained you to sense people. Use that power to find a lifeforce you like."


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    Schzara nodded before turning to leave. As she left, Sahshir did not breathe a sigh of relief. He wished he could have. Now, he ought to make polite conversation, hadn''t he? "...How does the shrine fair?"


    Kushina sighed. "The Blade of Chaos has been acting up. More than usual, I mean. There will be pulses of energy from it that strain the boundaries. Then, I have to get up in the middle of the night to reign it in. It''s very frustrating.


    "I suspect that it may be sewing the seeds of Chaos. The spirit of Typhos works through it and seeks to start a battle."


    "It is causing an invasion?" asked Sahshir.


    "The invasion may be unrelated," said Kushina. "Whatever the case, Asim has been working to make the place as secure as possible.


    "All this started a few months ago, after the meeting."


    "Between you and Father?" guessed Sahshir, remembering the note and the assassination attempt.


    "Yes, that one," said Kushina. "Somehow, Asim learned what was said and became afraid you would usurp him."


    "Why?" asked Sahshir.


    "It wasn''t just the training," said Kushina. "That alone could be merely a way to get you out. But I... well, I was angry with Tuor. And he was wearing the Sword of Order, which traditionally goes to the King of Eastern Kalthak. It was a gift from Baltoth, even if it was delivered by Tuor.


    "He technically had the right to it.


    "But, I demanded he gives it up and cedes it to you." She stood and made her way over to the wall. Sliding aside a secret panel, she drew out the Sword of Order. It was a simple weapon with no ornate decorations. But the design was elegant, and Sahshir felt a chill down his back as she drew it.


    Kushina kneeled and offered the blade to him, holding it with a practiced grace. Sahshir wondered if she had rehearsed for this moment. Often, she had done for important matters when they were young. He remembered her and Sushaki going after formalities time and again. That had been before Kushina''s parents were taken by the plague. Before Sushaki betrayed him. Had those been better times? Or only a lie?


    Kushina was not a lie. Sahshir was sure of that. As for that wretch Sushaki, he would be dealt with in due time. "''In the beginning, there was only Chaos and the pretender Valranor. Then came Baltoth, the Inexorable Lord of Pride. He cast down the pretender and brought Order. He drove out the scheming Dust Elves and built a mighty empire. And he named it Calisha, after the one he loved most of all.''"


    "The first words of the Book of Baltoth," said Sahshir. He hesitated to take it in hand.


    "Yes," said Kushina. "Before the darkness came. Before the God of Chaos was made manifest.


    "The Blade of Order is yours."


    Sahshir remained silent and still for only a moment. Was he truly ready? It did not matter. He took it and admired the way the light gleamed off it.


    Kushina sighed. "It was taken from the body of Valranor long ago. And it is awarded to one of his descendants in Kalthak with each generation. So now it is yours."


    "Why do you give this to me?" asked Sahshir.


    "As I said, the Blade of Chaos is showing signs of becoming active," said Kushina. As if that explained everything.


    "So it has been done many times," said Sahshir, lowering the blade. "The true reason?" He very much doubted that this was a gift without attachments. For no gift was without a price of sorts.


    "...Tuor wanted to use it," said Kushina.


    Sahshir nearly dropped his blade. He had to lean forward to catch it in hand. "What?"


    "Wait, that isn''t fair," said Kushina. "He wanted to look into the possibility of using the Blade of Chaos. He argued that Chaos merely reflects Order and that both used in balance result in true power." She shrugged. "I wouldn''t have any of it. My task is to ensure the blade remains safe here."


    "That was wise," said Sahshir. He looked back to the blade and gripped it in his two hands. Then, standing, he tested the weight. "My father did not have the decency to give it to me with his own hands."


    "That isn''t fair, Sahshir," said Kushina. "Tuor is the Disciple of Baltoth. By his nature, he must remain objective. If he showed great favor to you because of who he was, it could be... counterproductive."


    "And so he has left the kingdom in the care of Asim," said Sahshir.


    "Asim is a but a conceited caretaker," said Kushina. Sahshir thought this assessment to be reckless and dangerous. Asim was a deadly warrior and a great leader of men in his own way. What he lacked in political flair, he made up for in lethality. "You will lead this village one day. And if he interferes, it will be worse for him." She stood up. "In any case, you should not speak to any of our concerns. Aside from myself, very few know the Blade of Chaos is even manifesting."


    "Who else?" asked Sahshir.


    "You and Tuor," said Kushina. "Perhaps some of those he most trusts."


    There was a sharp breath. Sahshir arose with the Blade of Order in hand and pulled aside the door. Schzara stumbled forward to fall on her knees. Sahshir lowered his blade. "You were listening in?" How had she done so with neither noticing? Schazara learned the art of quiet footwork well. Sahshir knew Kushina had also ordered her to be trained with bow, arrow, and spear. That, as well as many other rituals.


    All those things Kushina was a master of. Yet Sahshir had always thought they needed to fit Schazara as well as Kushina.


    "I didn''t mean to," said Schazara, halting. "I just forgot something, came back, and got interested and... " She trailed off, looking afraid.


    Kushina took Sahshir by the shoulder. "Wait. Schzara, what have I told you about eavesdropping?"


    "I just, um..." began Schzara.


    Kushina kneeled down before her with a sudden bout of gentleness upon her. She set a hand on each of her shoulders and brought her close so they were pressed together. "Listen to me very carefully, Schzara. You must tell no one what happened here. Forget you heard anything."


    Schzara nodded. "Yes, big sister."


    Sahshir sheathed the Sword of Order and hooked it to his belt. As he did, he wondered the last time he had been held in such a fashion. Never seemed to be the answer, for such outward displays of affection ill became a man. Sushaki had been born like that by Asim and his Mother, and Sahshir had envied him. Then he walked toward the door. Kushina looked up at him. "Where are you going?"


    "I must inform Master Tuor I will take a leave of absence from his service," said Sahshir. "This kingdom will need me."


    "I recommend you send a letter," said Kushina. "I have runners I can trust. You should stay here for a time?"


    "Won''t Asim act against me?" asked Sahshir.


    "Asim is not mad," said Kushina. "He will not harm those under the protection of Baltoth. And so long as you are my guest, you are under his protection."


    Sahshir remained silent. "Very well. I will remain here." sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Good," said Kushina. "now, why don''t we plan a coup."


    That was typical of her. Sahshir decided settling accounts with Asim was exactly what he needed.

 Chapter 51 - Six: The Coming Storm

    Narcissa awoke to find a hand shaking her shoulder. She pulled herself to one side, shielding herself with the covers and letting her hair fall over her shoulders. She must have looked absolutely ravishing in the morning light coming from the sun sphere on her wall. She saw Alkela looking down at her through bleary eyes, dressed for battle and travel. Narcissa sighed. "Give me five more minutes, Alkela."


    Alkela shook her again. Narcissa threw the covers at her and stood up. Alkela had never been one to let someone sleep in or rest easy; she''d always slept first watch on the streets.


    "Fine, fine. I''m up already." She opened the window and peered out into the morning light. The black stone sundial said that mass would be in two hours.


    With a sigh, Narcissa began to dress appropriately. First, she chose some of the more modest garments available. A pair of black pants that clung to her lower legs and a tight shirt that bared her midriff. She supposed she should wear something skimpier when going to mass but screw it.


    They eat breakfast in silence. From there, Narcissa made her way to the armory. There, she drew the giant axe off the wall and entered the courtyard to train. Alkela did the same with her spiked gauntlets.


    "Why do you like those gauntlets so much?" asked Narcissa, spinning the axe and practicing her stance. "It isn''t as though they have any reach."


    Alkela said nothing, of course.


    The training they had gone through over the past two years had seemed easy, even when worked to the bone. However, Narcissa was already moving up to greater levels of proficiency. She remembered techniques she had already learned rather than learning them from scratch. Everything clicked into place quickly.


    Illaryus said that they must have been warriors in another life. Narcissa wondered about that. Was it another life? Supposedly, the memories of previous lives helped you later on. Affected you from beyond your grave.


    Today Narcissa swung her blade quickly, trying the more progressive stances. And then she accidentally swung near a wall. The axe''s edge crashed against the wall and was jarred from her hands. A giant crack appeared in the wall, and some stones fell.


    Narcissa flinched and quickly picked up the axe. She was afraid the wall would fall in entirely like last time. Fortunately, she''s managed to pull back at the last minute. Unfortunately, Illaryus entered the courtyard, clapping.


    "Well, that will have the stonemasons working tonight," said Illaryus. "I have told you to be careful when wielding those."


    "I''m sorry, Master Illaryus," said Narcissa. "I''m just... distracted, is all."


    "About what?" asked Illaryus.


    "These powers..." said Narcissa, feeling a bit awkward. How did someone as ugly as Ilaryus survive in Zigilus anyway? He didn''t seem like anyone''s type. It was probably pure combat skill. "I''ve sparred against many of the other Bloodlusters and beaten them. I''m killed raishans by the dozens, and it all comes so quickly.


    "But I''ve only been doing this for six months. This seems like something more than just a memory from a past life. I remember the lessons on anatomy. My muscles shouldn''t have adapted so quickly."


    "It probably is something more," admitted Illaryus. "There is a demonic will working through you both. Ensuring your body and spirit become what you need to be far more quickly than is typical.


    "When a power, demonic or otherwise, puts that kind of effort in, it is for a purpose."


    "What kind of purpose?" asked Narcissa.


    "Perhaps they wish you to be in a state where you are ready for some great task," said Illaryus. "Or perhaps you are acting as a vessel."


    "A vessel?" asked Narcissa. "What do you mean?"


    "There have been cases when powerful demons possess mortals of their own bloodline." said Illaryus, "Usually, they must be specially prepared. This, however, is an unparalleled honor, and I doubt Her Radiance has any interest in the matter."


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Narcissa, self-conscious as she adjusted her hair. Why shouldn''t she be worthy of possession?


    "It merely isn''t her Radiance''s style," said Illaryus. "She prefers the indirect approach to all things. To work through others, not lead directly. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "In any case, the service will soon begin. Therefore, you should make yourselves presentable."


    Narcissa nodded.


    Presentable meant bathing, of course, and then wearing more formal clothes. Narcissa and Alkela were high-ranking now, which meant showing a lot of skin. Narcissa''s outfit consisted of little more than a black brassiere. That and a long skirt that was split on both thighs. It was designed to draw attention to their superior frames.


    "-many people question the purpose of pain and hardship." the High Priest was saying. "Why is it that the farmer must plow fields before the harvest. Or the smith works the metal before creating it. The end result of both things is the pleasure of creation.


    "Yet why must such effort be made?


    "The effort one puts into achieving delight gives the delight meaning. Without working to cultivate the fields, the banquet would have no meaning. That is the paradox of pleasure, as Her Radiance-"


    Narcissa looked away to admire the architecture of the Sanctum of Zigildrazia. Use, elaborate arches, and grand pillars were everywhere. She looked to Alkela, who looked just as bored as she did. She was resting her head on one arm.


    "You know, I learned a strange thing from Garacel yesterday," said Narcissa. "He told me that Zigilus wasn''t designed based on Dinis architecture. Instead, it was based on the stonework of a place far to the west called Harlenor.


    "See, they had this great King, Anoa the Builder, or Anoa III. He made all kinds of great fortifications. And also constructed a city. Zigildrazia was trying to establish herself there at the time. She liked the look of his cathedrals so much she adapted it for her own."


    Alkela looked at her through lidded eyes. Narcissa leaned back.


    "Well, that''s what I read, anyway," said Narcissa. "I also heard they don''t have pole dancing at the end of sermons. Demonic Archons know how they keep anyone going to mass."


    Alkela glared at her.


    "What?" whispered Narcissa. "This is boring." She looked up at the masses and observed the dancers begin their routine. Unfortunately, the pole dancers weren''t very good, not putting enough lust into it. It was just a job to them.


    The dancers were pretty, not that it was to their credit. Ugly children were ritually sacrificed. But they were sloppy in how they swung themselves around the pole. In other circumstances, Narcissa could have been a performer of these rites. She knew the quality when she saw it. This wasn''t it. Probably someone''s cousin or something.


    "Let''s get out of here," said Narcissa. "It isn''t anything we haven''t heard a thousand times." She slipped out of the bench while everyone else was gawking. Alkela followed.


    They made it as far as the outer hall before they rounded a corner and found Illaryus waiting for them. His arms were crossed, and he looked at them disapprovingly. "Narcissa, Alkela, I don''t suppose you could not slip out during the mass?"


    Alkela pointed at Narcissa as if to say it was all her fault. Traitor.


    "I''m sorry," said Narcissa, "I was hoping I wouldn''t get caught."


    "The pole ceremony is vitally important in pursuing lust," said Illaryus. "You should at least try to attend it."


    "Fine, I''ll go there the next time," said Narcissa, walking past him. "I''d just rather be hunting raishans than sitting through ceremonies."


    "Most people enjoy them," noted Illaryus.


    "We like to make ourselves useful," said Narcissa.


    Alkela shoved her.


    "...I," amended Narcissa, "I like to make myself useful. And I also like fighting a lot more than watching a dance. Whether it''s by a man or a woman." She halted. Something was at the edge of her senses. A power... "Do you sense that, Illaryus?"


    "I do," said Illaryus. "Go, if you will."


    Narcissa and Alkela quickly retrieved their weapons and donned their battle armor. It concealed more than her formal wear and less than her regular clothes. Her arms and legs were left entirely bare, as was the center of her stomach. It also showed off a lot of cleavage, so she looked perfect, as usual. Alkela''s was much the same, except with several bangles on her arms and legs. Though obviously Alkela looked slightly less perfect than Narcissa, that was a given.


    Only Zigildrazia was better.


    The two of them made their way through the streets. They were empty. Everyone wise had gone indoors. There must have been a raishan alert. Narcissa kept her axe close. She wished someone was around to see her; she probably looked very good.


    As they entered a square, they circled around a huge fountain. The flowing of water could not distract from the presence here. The jangling of wind chimes could not conceal it. They jangled louder and louder.


    "It''s coming from here, but it hasn''t entered the mortal plane yet," said Narcissa.


    And then the disruption of the world came into full view. A massive serpent with the head of a beetle surged into contention. Limbs tipped with scythes slashed at Narcissa. She stepped back, swung around her axe, and caved in the skull.


    Even as she did, more of them emerged. She saw Alkela dodging back and forth, her arms and legs smashing through the creatures. Narcissa moved aside as gobs of acid shot toward her and landed in the fountain. The water foamed and bubbled over as she cleaved the raishans responsible in half.


    And yet, there were still more of them coming.


    On and on, they came, one after another, and no matter how many Narcissa cleaved down, there were always more. Finally, Alkela ripped them to shreds, only to find more. Where were the guards? How had so many of the creatures appeared here?


    The ground was littered with bodies. And Narcissa loved it. She loved how the blood flew into the air as she cleaved their skulls! She loved how they screamed when she cut them in half! She loved everything about it! Especially the way the blood felt as it drenched her form. Never before had she felt so alive except when doing this!


    Then there was a war cry. A huge giant leaped off the rooftop and landed on the cobblestones. He was clad in heavy armor and moved forward, dozens of flaming whips surrounding his wrist. More guards came from the surrounding regions. Soon the raishans around them were slaughtered so much for fun. The giant lumbered up to them.


    "Grakus," said Narcissa. "Where were you?"


    "Waiting," said Grakus without apology. "The beasts were gathering here. If I''d headed them off, they would have stopped gathering. Better to destroy the lot in exchange for a few peasants than let them ravage the countryside for weeks."


    That made sense. Narcissa knew he had orders and didn''t want to be inconsiderate. "Sorry, I was trying to help."


    "There were far more of these lately than expected," said Grakus, pleased. "Things are advancing well?"


    "What thing?" asked Narcissa.


    "My plan to resurrect Typhos. I''m using the souls of raishans to create the bloodshed necessary to fuel her rebirth," said Grakus. "I believe I told you about this once before."


    "Oh right, that plan," said Narcissa. Grakus worshipped a dead god. She didn''t understand, but she wasn''t inclined to judge. "So, how is it going?"


    "Very well, as I said," said Grakus. "You see, the cosmic scale changes from order to chaos every so often. Good to evil. It has shifted to chaos recently, and plans are already in motion to ensure this opportunity is used."


    "Why weren''t the other opportunities used?" asked Narcissa.


    "Zeya the Cursed went to great lengths to exterminate the brood of Typhos," said Grakus. "We were forced into hiding or wiped out. And until now, whenever the tides of chaos rose again, we were too weak to act.


    "Now, however-"


    "I believe you''ve said enough, Grakus," said Garacel''s voice.


    Narcissa turned to see Garacel walking toward them from another street. His blade was in his hand and covered in blood. Bringing up his red cloak, he wiped it from the sword, then sheathed it. "I have slaughtered several hundred of the beasts in the fields around the city. Their spirits are now contained."


    "Master Garacel," said Narcissa.


    "I must congratulate the both of you," said Garacel. "You are both proving worth the time invested in your training."


    "Thank you, Master," said Narcissa.


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    "I note the both of you fight with great enthusiasm," said Garacel.


    "Yes," said Narcissa. "I... when I''m killing something, the sensation is addicting. I don''t know why. I remember the first time I killed a raishan. I hit it with my axe, and the blood spewed all over me; I... I actually wanted to drink it.


    "Is that normal?"


    "Perfectly," said Garacel. "You are a Bloodluster, after all. Zigildrazia is among the greatest warriors of the Seven Demonic Archons. So it is natural that you would inherit some of her nature. Only Fortenex is stronger."


    "Where does Typhos stand in the hierarchy?" asked Narcissa. She wanted to know more about what Grakul had been talking about. Though she might have already heard the answer and forgotten it.


    "She is Typhos," said Grakul, as if that explained everything. "The Mother of all Monsters, the Demonic Archon of Gluttony. And the Goddess of Chaos."


    "That''s a lot of domains," noted Narcissa.


    "Yes, well, there is a great deal of overlap between the three of them," said Garacel. "And Typhos was always somewhat unique among the creatures of the universe. She never truly fit into any of the three pantheons.


    "She was too savage and destruction for the holy. Too unnatural for the spirit world. And lacked the malice necessary to work under Diabolus. Though that is less of an issue now."


    "If she was so powerful, how could Zeya and Elranor kill her?" asked Narcissa.


    "''Kill'' may be too strong a word," said Grakul. "The powers of her spirit were trapped deep within the earth, far to the west, in a land called Khasmir. And her body was burned. Only the heart remains, and it still beats deep within Zigildrazia''s palace."


    "But that is none of your concern," said Garacel. "Come, we have other business."


    He led them away. As they walked, Narcissa walked to stand next to Garacel. "Master Garacel, I''d like to ask you something."


    "Then ask," said Garacel.


    "Well, aside from Illaryus, all the servants of Zigildrazia are beautiful," said Narcissa. "Seductive. A spirit in a suit of armor seems a bit out of place."


    "It is," said Garacel. "I do not have my uttermost source in Zigildrazia. Long ago, I was the God of Love. I served the god of order, Valranor. When Baltoth overthrew him, I opposed Baltoth and fought against him in a series of wars. This was around the time Zeya was fighting Typhos. I believe it was..." He turned and pointed upwards toward the great Mount Lightstike. It was charred black, except for the greenish top. "Right there. Yes. Zeya plunged a mountaintop through her stomach. You can still see the dried blood to this day. Where was I?"


    "A war with Baltoth?" said Narcissa.


    "Ah, yes, that," said Garacel. "Well, Baltoth has always been a spiteful monster. He deluded himself that I had turned one of his many lovers against him."


    Narcissa paused. "Who was she?"


    "A manifestation of an ancient elven god, lost to history," said Garacel. "Her true name was Dreamora, but he called her by another name. A translation of sorts; I can''t remember it. Baltoth took this personally and destroyed my domain utterly through underhanded tactics. I made a final stand and challenged him to single combat.


    "He simply sent his armies after me. I remember the shining armor of my warriors as we made our stand. How we drove the enemy before us. Steel fell on steel, and brave men fought for what they believed. Brothers in arms gave their lives for men they''d never known.


    "I remember when the battle began, it was in a clear field with the morning sun looking down. The grass was dripping from the dew.


    "By the end, my enemies lay dead by the thousands, scattered among my fellows. The night was falling, and the moon shone, beautiful and white, unmarred by the carnage below. And I alone was unconquered. It was the moment of my life.


    "Had I died then, it should have been a good death."


    "Are you sure you were a Love God?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes," said Garacel. "I aided people in finding the right match all the time. But I also loved battle. So few things made me feel more alive than the blood rushing through my veins as I fought a worthy opponent. And there were so few of them.


    "In any case, it was not death that awaited me. I was... maimed, my body destroyed.


    "My spirit was trapped within an idol, and I was cast down into the midst of a mine shaft. There, I languished for untold centuries. Perhaps even millennia. The time is... unclear to me.


    "My domain of love was taken by one of Baltoth''s children, who sought rulership of these lands. When she failed, Zigildrazia took her place as the dominant power. She created the domain of Dinis, though some say it was forged by Safara."


    "But how did you end up serving her?" asked Narcissa.


    "She found me powerless and screaming within the mine," said Garacel. "She inserted my spirit into the armor and gave me a chance to serve her. I have done so since."


    "How long ago was this?" asked Narcissa.


    "I do not know," admitted Garacel. "I do not sleep or eat. Nor do I see the day or night. I sense with my will. The passing of a year is no different to me than the passing of a day."


    "So, are you trying to restore your old self?" asked Narcissa.


    "Zigildrazia has promised that should I serve her faithfully, she will restore me." said Garacel, "However, it is a complicated matter. You see, my reputation as her Seeker and the power of those I have killed should have restored me. Unfortunately, the armor still keeps me imprisoned. And until I am bested, killed in battle, I can never take on my true form."


    "Then why not just destroy yourself?" asked Narcissa. "Or can''t you do that?"


    "Suicide is a coward''s escape," said Garacel. "I never understood what the people of Namina saw it. Nevertheless, I shall never give up my spirit so long as I can fight on. I will fight on against a thousand opponents.


    "Until I have been slain by one worthy of the honor. Which may not be long, depending on how the recent plans turn out." He paused. "There is also my professional pride to consider."


    "What do you mean?" asked Narcissa.


    "I am bound to Zigildrazia''s will so long as I am within this armor," said Garacel. "That was part of our contract. So ending my existence within the armor would not technically be a breach of contract. But it would be against the spirit of the deal.


    "When one makes a contract, one ought to keep it." His helmet turned to the sky. "Still, once I am restored, I have another task to perform."


    "What''s that?" asked Narcissa.


    "The destruction of Baltoth and all he represents," said Garacel. "That day may come soon. And you both may greatly help us in that matter."


    "Glad to help," said Narcissa.


    And then, as they reached the gates of the Sanctum, Dakan appeared. He adjusted his hat. "Good evening, Garacel."


    "Dakan, what is it now?" said Garacel.


    "I thought you may wish to know of a recent opportunity that has come our way," said Dakan, drawing out a scroll. Was he trying to sound like a snake? "The details are within this scroll."


    Garacel unrolled it, being careful not to tear the paper. He read it carefully. "...So, our mutual friend has made his move, has he?"


    "Yes," said Dakan. "He may be trustworthy."


    "Don''t be a fool, Dakan," said Garacel. "He knows our peril. The Emperor has been entertaining emissaries from many lands. And among them are priests of Elranor."


    "What shall we do, then?" asked Dakan.


    "This may be a trap. But we do not have time to wait," said Garacel. "The Emperor is making his move as we speak. We must act before it is complete.


    "We will take the bait. And the trap shall strike nothing but air. This will, the mouse escape the metal jaws and feast upon the cheese. So the house owner will be frustrated, and all his efforts will be in vain."


    "Unless the cheese is poisoned," noted Narcissa.


    "You needn''t fear," said Garacel. "For the mouse has long foreseen such an action and taken steps to become immune to all poisons that-" He paused. "This metaphor has gotten somewhat out of hand.


    "Dakan, get our forces together. We''ll go to the Kingdom of Khasina, steal the Blade of Chaos, and kill everyone. You can''t spring a trap if you''re dead."


    Narcissa blinked. "You mean that the Kalthakian Kingdom which tried to invade us? The one Illaryus defeated singlehanded?"


    "The same," said Garacel. "Though the stories exaggerate. Narcissa Alkela, you should prepare yourselves for a journey. We''ll be going into Calisha soon.


    "Dakan, would you get them decent armor?"


    "What''s wrong with this?" asked Narcissa.


    Garacel turned to her. "Calisha is not as attuned to hell, so such an outfit would kill you quickly."


    "What?" said Narcissa. "But it bears my midriff and shows off cleavage. My legs are completely exposed."


    "Yes," said Garacel. "That is the problem. In the domain of Zigildrazia, that kind of outfit is better armor. In Calisha, it is... not."


    Narcissa nodded. "Right. Come on, Alkela."


    "And Narcissi," said Garacel.


    "Yes?" asked Narcissa.


    "Clean the blood off yourself," said Garacel.


    Narcissa nodded.


    The armor Narcissa was expected to wear was heavy, bulky, and covered her entire body. She could hardly see outside the helmet and pulled it off in frustration. Then, looking at herself in a mirror, she saw it had messed up her hair.


    What kind of armor messed up how you looked?


    "So what do you think about all this, Alkela?" asked Narcissa, putting on a brave face. "Scared?"


    Alkela shook her head, testing the weight of a mace. Narcissa sighed. "No, didn''t think so. I can''t believe we''re heading out into Calisha. A few months ago, I figured we''d never see outside of this city."


    Alkela swung the mace, and it nearly took Narcissa''s head off. "Watch where you swing that!" Alkela pulled it back apologetically.


    At that moment, Dakan appeared from the shadows. How did he do that? "How are you ladies adjusting to your armor?"


    "Quite well," lied Narcissa. "So, what exactly do you do anyway?"


    "I trade information, of course," said Dakan. "My purpose is to ensure everyone knows what they need. For a price."


    "Well then, could you make sure I know why this armor is so bulky?" asked Narcissa. "How is anyone supposed to know if I''m beautiful."


    "The bulk is the point," said Dakan. "An appeal to lust is a powerful thing within Dinis. However, in the world beyond, it is not. They are not quite so... concerned with appearances."


    "Yeah, I remember what Garacel said," said Narcissa. "It''s still horribly heavy."


    "I gather the knights of Harlenor prefer it that way," said Dakan.


    "Harlenor?" said Narcissa. "Garacel told me it made the construction this Sanctum was based on. It''s uh... it''s located... it''ll come to me."


    "It is a savage land to the far west," said Dakan. "They serve the God Triumvirate. The God of Healing, Elranor, is the head of their pantheon. Laeivan, Lady of the Wilds, and Barden, Lord of Civilization, are his compatriots.


    "Still, I gather Her Radiance is hoping to establish colonies there. So it must not be entirely barbaric."


    "How are we supposed to colonize a far-off place?" asked Narcissa.


    "Conversion, of course," said Dakan. "Direct conquest is such a bother. What do you think of your look?"


    Narcissa put the helm back on and looked at herself. She looked like a smaller version of Garacel with an axe. "... It''s a bit masculine. But I like it. What do you think, Alkela?"


    Alkela looked at the mace in her hand. Then she tossed it at the mirror. Narcissa caught it in midflight, laughing. "It isn''t that bad."


    "Bad or not, we''ll need to go soon," said Dakan. "My sources tell me that two legions have been dispatched by the Emperor of Dinis."


    "The Emperor?" asked Narcissa. "Why would he send troops here, anyway? Zigildrazia was given Zigilus by his ancestor. It is promised to her forever."


    "I''m afraid mortals are prone to welch on their promises a few generations in," said Dakan. "When they say ''forever,'' they mean ''until my descendants decide it is no longer convenient.''"


    "Aren''t you mortal?" asked Narcissa.


    "Only partially," said Dakan. "The blood of Neseriah, the Bat God, runs strong through my veins. And I am no stranger to self-deprecation." He reached forward as if to touch her.


    Narcissa flinched away. "How could we repel them? The legions are said to be invincible."


    "Many things are said to be one thing and are another," said Dakan. "But that is the thrust of this mission, if you know what I mean."

 Chapter 52 - Seven: Lepers Return

    Sahshir had spent the last few days gathering information. He learned of people who had been hurt. He found that almost all of them were merchants who needed to cooperate. The ordinary people were largely left in peace.


    Asim was quite popular among them. Several of whom Asim had ruined had seen their wealth given to the poor. He saw now why Tuor had forbidden him from killing Asim. It would be a bad start.


    Now, he was meditating.


    He often did so when he could not sleep and had been meditating from the late hours. Now, the hours had become early, and he was still sitting in his room, his eyes shut and his hands clenched.


    He wondered how many weary travelers this shrine of Baltoth had gotten. There are none today, but Sahshir remembers when he was a boy. In those days, Aresh had not been supplanted by Tuor. Often, far-off merchants would shelter here if they had no outside connections.


    To harm a guest in Baltoth''s house was an unforgivable crime. For if travelers could not be safe in the house of the gods, where could they be safe?


    And yet he felt ill at ease.


    He sensed them now, gathering outside the gates of the shrine. Armed men, ready for war. They were many, and their life force belonged to demanding men. Men who had killed before and would again. Warriors.


    But they did not desire blood. Or at least not a battle.


    "Sahshir, there is a problem," said Kushina.


    Sahshir arose, startled, hand falling to his sword as he saw her. Somehow, she had slipped beneath his perceptions like always. How did she do that? "What is it?"


    "Asim has learned of your presence somehow," said Kushina. "His troops are outside the shrine as we speak."


    "I am aware," said Sahshir.


    "And you''re still here?" asked Kushina in surprise.


    Sahshir raised his sword. "I will defeat Asim and his men singlehanded should they enter this place."


    Kushina sighed. "You''re confidence inspires me. But I''d rather have a better plan than that."


    "Very well," said Sahshir. "I will enter the palace and kill Asim and his extended family."


    "Do you have another better plan?" asked Kushina.


    "No," admitted Sahshir. He was forbidden from killing Asim. But surely Tuor would understand if it was him or Sahshir.


    "Priestess Kushina!" came a call. "We know you are within. Come out and speak to us at once."


    Kushina grasped her staff from the wall and walked out. Sahshir trailed behind in the shadows. He watched from the doorway as Kushina approached the gates. In front of them stood Asim, a tall and scarred man. He had narrow eyes that marked the blood of Namina that flowed through him, and his skin was lighter. In his hand was a sheathed sword, a scimitar rather than a katana. A symbol of his contempt for the ways of Namina.


    "Lord Asim, you have surrounded a shrine of Baltoth," said Kushina. "What is the meaning of this?"


    "The meaning is simple," said Asim. "You are harboring my enemies. I will not intrude on sacred ground. But I will not let you protect threats to my dominion."


    "Abdul Sahshir is first in the line of succession," said Kushina. "Your nephew by blood. You are granted only the position of regent. Is this treason?"


    "Sahshir is nothing more than a boy," said Asim. "One whose curse will lead to a line of plague. I will not see one of his kind leading our armies. What example could that set?"


    Sahshir flinched at the mention. His hand was on his sword, but he did not draw it. Still waiting.


    "You do not know that," said Kushina. "And you have no right to usurp him."


    "In the days of my father, we did not concern ourselves with such technicalities," said Asim proudly. "The leader was the strongest of all the warriors. The soldier with the most cunning.


    "Tuor has sought to corrupt this process.


    "I claim my status as king by my right of victory in battle and leadership in war."


    "Are you then prepared to defy the will of Baltoth?" asked Kushina.


    "I have done nothing of the sort," said Asim. "We shall not intrude in his domain. But so long as that boy remains within this shrine, my men will remain without. And there is another matter." He motioned. "Bring forward the girl."


    Schzara was dragged forward. She looked like she had been crying. But now she was only looking terrified. "Sister, I''m sorry, I didn''t-"


    "Silence!" said Asim.


    Kushina''s grip on her staff tightened. "You had the best account for your actions, Regent Asim."


    "You have until noon tomorrow to give the boy up to me," said Asim. "Fail to do so, and I will crucify the girl on a hill. Make your choice."


    Kushina''s eyes narrowed. "I certainly will."


    Then she turned and walked back to the shrine before shutting the door. She looked at him. "Alright, Sahshir, there is a change of plans. Go ahead and murder everyone in Asim''s palace; I don''t care."


    "Thank you," said Sahshir.


    He unsheathed his sword and began to meditate with it over his knees. He waited as the life forces of those in the camp grew gradually complacent. Then, when they were used to the silence, he arose and slipped out of one of the windows.


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    Crawling to the top of the wall, he looked down upon the lookouts.


    "So, did you hear about what happened to that merchant in the square, Akas?" one asked. "Had his wares destroyed? Why did King Asim order that done?"


    "He questioned Asim''s legitimacy," said Akas. "And anyway, he was a merchant. Scum who make their living on others'' labors. Bean counters and cheats the lot of them, right, Sorsuk?" Sorsuk remained silent, and this frustrated Akas. "Warriors earn our keep on the battlefield. Farmers toil on the earth to raise crops. But merchants just play the role of the middleman. They snatch bread from people''s mouths."


    "I wonder how we''d do if all the merchants disappeared?" said Sorsuk.


    "Better," said Akas.


    "Really?" asked Sorsuk doubtfully. "Didn''t you go to the bazaar to buy a seashell necklace for your wife yesterday? Unfortunately, they didn''t make them here."


    "Shut up," said the other.


    Sahshir launched himself from the wall and landed behind them. They turned to him, readying their spears. "Abdul Sahshir-"


    Drawing his sword, he raked it across both their throats. Both their limp forms fell to the ground. Five other men charged at him, blades in hand. He ducked under one and slashed him through the stomach before rolling between others. With two more strokes, he downed another two. Finally, he stabbed his blade back at someone he sensed behind.


    Sahshir felt it drive through another guard''s chest. Drawing out the blade, he turned to parry a flurry of strokes. Then, feeling something sharp pass his cheek, Sahshir flipped backward. On they came, from both sides. Hooking his foot under a spear, Sahshir kicked it into the air and caught it, even as he sheathed his blade.


    Spinning it around, he fended off those who came at him with rapid strikes, returning to the wall. Finally, he was hemmed in. All stabbed at him, but he leaped into the air and landed on the wall before being kicked off. As he landed, he drew his sword and began a flurry of strikes. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then he halted, turned, and walked away toward the palace. As he sheathed his blade, he sensed the guards falling to the ground, no longer a threat.


    Sahshir quickly scaled up the walls and past the sight of the guards. He did not want to alert his enemies to his presence. Unfortunately, it was only a matter of time before they learned what had happened at the shrine.


    Still, where was Schzara? He had not seen her among the prisoners?


    Either way, he knew this palace like the back of his hand. He quickly slipped into the inner rooms in secret ways known only to their family. The red and gold walls were comforting to walk amongst again. When he had left, they had seen more threatening anything.


    But now, he was the most dangerous thing within these walls.


    Soon, he made his way onto a balcony. Below, he saw a beautiful courtyard of green, where he and Kushina had played as children. There had been another with them in those days.


    And there he was. Sahshir''s cousin, Sushaki, was as handsome as ever, with a slim frame and well-muscled muscles. Sahshir saw that he had grown out his wavy white hair a great deal since last they had met. He''d always been more handsome than Sahshir, even before the curse took hold.


    But with Sushaki was Asim himself. They were arguing. "Father, this is not wise. Threatening a Priestess of Baltoth could be called heresy. The Western Kalthakians may use it as a pretext."


    "We''ve been over this, Sushaki," said Asim. "The girl is not a priestess. Our actions are not heresy. And if Western Kalthak decides to invade, I will rename their land the Western Wastes. I''ve beaten them before."


    "But what about these merchants you''ve ruined?" asked Sushaki. "They are not powerless. On the contrary, they may well support Sahshir against us, and what we do here could be a rallying point."


    Until now, Sahshir had used the blades wielded by Tuor''s disciplines in training. Not one had died by his hand. Now, he drew the Sword of Order. First, blood would be whet upon it.


    "The merchants will thank Baltoth they are spared and serve the warriors," said Asim.


    "Will they?" asked Sushaki, "Money has more power than you think. It was made by Coinfurth, and he is a god in his own right."


    Sahshir sprang from the balcony, lifting his sword toward Asim''s head. Even as he did, Asim drew his blade and caught the stroke while turning to face him. For a moment, they pitted their strength against each other. "No. They will not."


    Asim shoved him back and took a stance. "...You, how did you get past the guards?"


    "I have learned much in the service of Tuor," said Sahshir. "You will learn that by my blade."


    "The Sword of Order belongs to no man," said Asim. "It is merely entrusted to the worthy. Or the unworthy, as the case may be." He motioned, and out of the shadows emerged dozens of warriors clad in heavy armor. These men were elites. "No matter. Guards, the ones to kill this fool, will be greatly rewarded. Come, son."


    He and Sushaki turned and made their way out as the guards closed ranks behind them.


    "Face me, Asim," said Sahshir.


    But Asim said nothing. And then he was gone.


    For a long moment, Sahshir remained silent. Finally, he took a stance, feeling the trickle of blood down the side of his face. He licked his lips. Now was the time.


    Then, the guards surged forward.


    A storm of blades came at him, but the Sword of Order flashed. They recoiled at the light, and Sahshir drew his other sword. Cleaving through one after another without death, he kept the light in his enemies'' eyes.


    Even so, they parried and thrust, and he found himself hard-pressed to defeat them. Still, at least now, he was only facing them from one direction. He ducked around the supports of the balcony, and a sword sank into it. Coming around, he swung the Sword of Order to shatter an enemy''s blade, then struck him down. Another fell to him, then another.


    He found himself filled with a strange power he could not understand.


    Nothing could stop him.


    And soon, all were defeated. He sensed Asim in the next room. And as he did, the light of the sword faded. Sliding the door aside, he found Asim and Sushaki kneeling in a long hall. The walls were lined with all manner of weapons. Here, Sahshir and Sushaki had trained many times. Asim had his blade before him on his knees. "So, you''ve finally arrived, have you? You surprise me. I thought you would have keeled over dead some time ago. Perhaps you are worthy of my blade. Leper Prince."


    Then he sprang into action. Sahshir threw aside his second blade and met Asim with the Sword of Order. They dueled back and forth, and Sahshir found himself being driven back. Asim was skilled, winning a hundred battles, and Sahshir could hardly keep up.


    Asim turned Sahshir''s blade and brought a leg around. Sahshir spun away and hit a wall. He narrowly ducked in time to avoid being beheaded. Before he could counterattack, Asim was leaping back, taking a stance.


    "I confess, I had doubts about assassinating my family by stealth," said Asim. "I''m pleased you''ve allowed me to do it personally."


    "Traitor," said Sahshir simply.


    He surged forward and forced Asim back with a flurry of strokes. But all too soon, Asim halted his advance and drove him back. Then, spinning his blade, Asim paused some feet away. "Traitor?


    "What have I betrayed? The legacy of my brother? A man who has turned a race of warriors into farmers and thieves?"


    "It was by the will of Baltoth," said Sahshir, taking a stance.


    "Baltoth? The Lord of Order!" scoffed Asim. "You speak as though he was worshipped by our most distant ancestors! He is but a visitor in our domain! Kalthak shall choose its own gods!"


    "He delivered us from the whispers of Safara," said Sahshir. "He brought green to the lands of Kalthak once again. Thus was order brought from the chaos."


    "Green and order?" scoffed Asim. "What is a land of grass and plenty but an excuse for the race to become fat and weak. Weak as the Medi of the West! We are Kalthakian! Our sires were born of blood and death! We survived where the sorcerers of old were consumed by their hubris!"


    "And yet we are also of the blood of Namina, that ancient civilization," said Sahshir. "When their land was destroyed, our people mixed and became one."


    "A corruption we have yet to rid ourselves of," said Asim as they began to circle one another. "It was Namina who taught us sorcery! Namina, who sewed the seeds of destruction! Seeds that saw the land blighted and our people scattered!"


    "What is a land of grass and plenty but an excuse for the race to become fat and weak?" asked Sahshir.


    "You throw my own words back at me," scoffed Asim. "Do you comprehend them?"


    "I understand more than you know," said Sahshir. "What purpose does the warrior caste have save to defend? To ensure that the farmer may plow his fields in peace? To ensure the merchant may sell his wares without fear of thugs destroying them? To ensure the priests may commune with the gods without defending against sacrilege?"


    "We were made to fight and conquer!" said Asim. "To stand triumphant in the darkness of the world!"


    "We were made to defend and protect," said Sahshir. "You speak of the virtues of warriors. Yet you do not understand the virtues of other castes."


    "And do you?" asked Asim.


    "No," said Sahshir. "But I am aware of them. Aware of my own ignorance. And I will learn. Are you?"


    Asim smiled. "...Perhaps, perhaps not. You seem to be more your father''s son than you are a leper. I congratulate you on that, at least."


    The doors were flung open, and guards charged in, but Asim raised a hand. "No, let the boy have his chance. Let us finish this."


    Sahshir could kill him. He could. With the Sword of Order, he could overpower Asim''s guard. Or could he? No, the pass would claim both their lives at best. Then, his eyes focused on his other blade.


    The two charged at each other. As they neared, Sahshir dropped to his knees, throwing the Sword of Order. Asim stepped away, but Sahshir snatched up his other blade and brought it around. It slashed through Asim''s chest, as Asim''s blade stabbed past his head. The blade caught upon his mask, and it was torn away.


    Then Asim collapsed to his knees. He set a hand upon Sahshir''s shoulder. "Well... done..." he gasped. "You are the stronger."


    He fell backward.


    Sahshir looked to the men, who drew back. He picked up the Sword of Order and gazed at his own reflection. His face was scarred and looked more like a corpse than a man. Some parts of it have almost rotted away. The disease had passed somewhat; it gnawed only intermittently now. But the scars remained. Drawing it up, he turned to them, and they fell before him, kneeling.


    "My uncle is defeated but not dead," said Sahshir. "I was forbidden from slaying any of you when I came here by Tuor himself. This sword is a Ghost Sword. It has sent him to sleep as it has all those I have defeated. I now return to the shrine.


    "Tomorrow, all of you who wish to prove me unworthy may come before me. I will prove upon the bodies of all who dispute my reign as King. Then, when all of them are defeated, I will be king.


    "Sushaki, you will release Schzara at once. I may not be permitted to slay you, but you can survive a great deal." He felt the threat was necessary.


    Sushaki nodded and stood. "Yes, Prince Sahshir, at once."


    He had returned. Now, he had work to do.

 Chapter 53 - Eight: A Matter of Pride

    Sushaki provided him with a scarf to hide his face, thankfully. He also helped him bandage his face so that the bleeding was staunched. The traitor had not been allowed to touch him since the last time. Sahshir allowed him to do so only reluctantly, remembering well what he did. Siding with Asim against Sahshir after so many pledges of eternal friendship.


    Traitor.


    Never again would Sahshir trust this fair-faced scoundrel. Nor would he drink tea before a sunset alongside him. Whatever looks of regret Sushaki gave him only fired his anger now. For he knew his nature and his uses.


    So long as the latter did not outweigh the former, he would not slay him. But for now, he had his uses. And when Schzara entered, his face was hidden once again. The girl ran to him and hugged him, as Sahshir kept an eye on the guards around him. One of them might make a move.


    "Sahshir, you''re here," said Schzara.


    Sahshir set a hand on her shoulder. He wondered what she would think if she saw what lay beneath his gloves and mask. Still, it was not contagious. Perhaps she would not judge him for it. "I am. Follow me. We are leaving the palace at once."


    He offered her a hand, and she took it. Together, they made their way out. As they did, Schzara noticed the dozens of unconscious guards. "What happened to all these guards?"


    "They fell," said Sahshir. "And when they rise, they will not oppose us."


    No attempt was made to bar his path. He walked out the front gates of the palace, and guards cringed backward. News had come of what he had been doing. They feared and respected him. But they did not yet love him.


    As the last gates were pulled aside, Sahshir saw Tuor waiting. The Disciple of Baltoth had a pair of nunchucks by his side, and his hands were tied with bandages. He shifted his massive shoulders and stretched his neck.


    "...Master Tuor?" asked Sahshir.


    Tuor nodded at him with little change in expression. Yet Sahshir could tell he was pleased by his eyes. "That was very well done, Sahshir. You''ve made your point and left no corpses to start a blood feud. I doubt your troubles are over, but this is an excellent start.


    "Come, Kushina has made tea."


    How often Sahshir had dreamed of such a moment once when Aresh yet lived. It felt odd now, out of place.


    Sahshir and Tuor led Schzara to the shrine. There, Kushina was waiting, and they sat together in a circle. Tuor sipped his tea, apparently finding it more interesting than the palace. "So, what made you declare yourself openly before your uncle? Might you have ambushed him in his chambers? Or freed Schzara by stealth. Perhaps both."


    "I wanted to prove I was better than all of them," said Sahshir. He saw no reason to hide the truth nor shy from what he meant. "Fighting my way into the heart of their power without needing to slay anyone seemed ideal."


    "Your desire for power is commendable," said Tuor with a nod. "But there are many kinds of power. Being known and acknowledged as a mighty warrior is one of them."


    "And what other kinds are there?" asked Sahshir. This was the sort of thing Tuor liked to talk about. Power was his favorite subject.


    Often times he would speak of forms of power and how to attain them. What kinds of power were most reliable? What force lasted the longest? And was it better to hold the reigns of power or stand behind the one who did?


    Tuor could talk about power all week. Aresh never had, and Sahshir disliked the change. Nevertheless, the service to Baltoth must be undertaken without regard to self. So it was written.


    One must be willing to devote oneself utterly to the cause without regard to benefit. Sahshir had not yet succeeded at this, nor was he sure he ever would. Yet he knew that was what one would aspire to.


    Tuor would regard that as a kind of power, too.


    "One is to be known as an honorable and reliable subordinate who cannot be bribed," said Tuor. "Wicked men will fear you. And those who see what they believe is justice will admire and flock to your banner."


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    "What do you mean ''what they believe is justice.''" asked Sahshir, not understanding. "There is good and evil. Both are real as day and night."


    "What is good for one man may be evil for another," noted Kushina, sipping her tea.


    Sahshir thought of a quote. "It is written, ''He who lives by thievery alone shall starve friendless in the wilderness.''"


    "Wise words, of course," said Tuor, too quickly for Sahshir''s liking. It was like he was trying to pass the subject off. "Though more of pragmatism than moral in nature. But consider this: a nobleman''s son grows up spoiled with everything he could ever want.


    "One day, he is kidnapped by a demon, thrust forcibly from his home, and put into slavery. He escapes and is forced to survive by begging on the streets. He nearly starves but eventually returns home.


    "When he comes back, he is far wiser. He understands reality better. So when he inherits his father''s lands, he rules justly. He also enjoys what he has more and is less prone to decadence. So the land prospers, and he is far wiser for it.


    "Was it evil for the demon to have acted so?"


    "I cannot judge this demon without understanding their motives," said Sahshir. "Nor do I know the boy or how he might have changed without it?


    "So, I cannot answer the question." Sahshir reminded himself that Tuor''s theories of power were not without weight. It was not for nothing that he was the Disciple of Baltoth. His wisdom was as great as his strength at arms.


    Tuor nodded. "A wise answer. It is never a fault to admit that you do not know, at least to yourself.


    "How would you react if I told you that the nobleman''s son was Asim?"


    "Asim?" asked Sahshir in surprise.


    "He is held in higher regard in the northern highlands that he holds sway over," said Kushina. "Civilization has not touched that land as strongly." S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Pride is a valuable thing," said Tuor. "But it clouds the mind when not tempered by humility."


    "It is said by some that pride and humility are opposites," said Sahshir.


    "There are good and ill aspects of every part of the mortal spirit," said Tuor. "Humility may allow one to understand themselves better. But if taken too far, it becomes self-hatred. Then, the one beset by it will think too little of himself. And great things he could one day achieve may never come about.


    "Pride is the same. Baltoth was born of pride. To know the value of one''s achievements and take pride in them is not wicked. Pride in one''s nation can inspire one to do great deeds of valor."


    "Sister," said Schzara, "can I um... go practice archery? This is boring."


    "Do as you like, Schzara," said Kushina.


    Schzara rose and departed, taking up her bow and rushing down the steps with obvious joy. Kushina stood up and smiled faintly as she finished her tea. "I''ll go give her some pointers."


    "That would be wise," said Tuor, nodding respectfully while crossing his arms. "If the girl were kidnapped twice, I would become cross with her."


    When they had left, Tuor looked to Sahshir with a faint smile. He seemed amused by something, and Sahshir did not know what. Schzara was not it; he was sure. "Let me tell you another tale, Sahshir.


    "Once, a long time ago, I was walking through a forest in a distant land. There, I beheld a man fighting a monster with his bare hands. He was losing badly but refused to give up.


    "Moved by pity, I sought to aid him.


    "But another man stopped me. He told me that the monster had devoured the man''s wife. His pride would not allow him to accept help in defeating such an opponent.


    "What would you have done had it been you?"


    "I should have helped the man anyway," said Sahshir.


    "Why?" asked Tuor.


    "Someone who has just lost a loved one is not reasoning," said Sahshir. "And so long as one lives, one may regain honor. So if it were a slight on his honor that I saved him, he could redeem himself in time.


    "It is written: ''So long as you live, you may make amends. So long as you breathe, you may improve. So long as your heart beats, you may achieve greatness.''"


    "Interesting. That is not what I did," said Tuor.


    "What did you do?" asked Sahshir.


    "I killed both men and let the monster eat their corpses," said Tuor. "Then, I had a very stimulating conversation with it on the nature of morality. His name was Grakus, and he was quite an amiable companion.


    "Eventually, we parted ways, and he made his way to Dinis.


    "I never saw him again."


    Sahshir was surprised by the answer and the ending. For a moment, he pondered it, trying to understand why he did it. The act seemed so contrary to anything he would expect. To choose the side of a monster over two men?


    Why?


    "Why would you take his side?" asked Sahshir at last.


    "The giant, it was a giant, eat the man''s wife for a meal," said Tuor with a sigh. "It thought nothing of it and continued on its way. One might as well have been angry at a farmer for slaughtering a hen.


    "The man, in contrast, had far less nobility in his motives. He merely wanted revenge. As if killing the thing that slew his loved one would bring her back. And it is doubtful he would have felt any better at the end.


    "Then, when his weapon was destroyed, he was arrogant enough to refuse any aid. He would not even retreat and try again in more favorable circumstances. I concluded that the giant was the more intelligent of the two and deserving of victory.


    "Anyone foolish enough to disregard life for pride deserves neither. And any society that believes such idiocy admirable should be scourged from Erian. As the Naminaens were, in time, though not by my hand. Their fall predates my rise by some decades, though it is often forgotten in the passage of years."


    "Is there a lesson behind this?" asked Sahshir.


    "You heard only the man''s story. Thus, you assumed he was the hero and the giant a villain," said Tuor. "But the giant was merely trying to live life as much as any human farmer. And he made for far better conversation.


    "Power, real power, comes from understanding the perspectives of all sides. Every man has hopes, dreams, and goals. When you know what those are and what they will do to get them, you can bend them to your will.


    "Which, incidentally, is why I ordered you not to kill anyone."


    "You knew I would attack Asim?" asked Sahshir.


    "I knew you would seek to prove yourself. And I knew that word of a possible threat had already spread in your village. I was surprised to find out what you would do to prove yourself.


    "I merely made a few guesses."


    Sahshir considered the story. "...I was wrong, Tuor. The giant was not the villain. You were."


    "Was I?" asked Tuor. "I prefer to think of myself as an impartial judge of their characters."


    And then the door slid open. Nayasha rushed into the room and fell into a kneeling position. "A thousand pardons, Master Tuor. But we have seen the Airships of Zigilus. They are landing on the border as we speak!"


    Tuor smiled. "Now, aren''t you glad you didn''t slaughter your way through your uncle''s men?"


    "Very," said Sahshir.


    There was a method to how Tuor operated. Sahshir had indeed misjudged him.

 Chapter 54 - Nine: The Siege

    Narcissa had seen the airships of Zigilus many times when she and Alkela were young. Once Zarana had taken them as far as one of the landing pads. The colossal craft she was on was held aloft by massive canvas balloons and came in all sizes. Many could be seen ferrying officials off to the cities of Dinis with goods shipments. Others moved soldiers or work crews out to the roads. sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then there were the pleasure yachts, which moved at slow speeds. On them were ornate imagery of sensual desire, and the crews were every bit as desirable. Once, Narcissa had dreamed of being a courtesan on one of those.


    The passengers were of all kinds, people from other lands and even worlds. You could see them drinking fine wines and playing games as they soared over the grounds. It was something called a vacation.


    But no matter what ship you used, it never went beyond Dinis, and only the largest could go far beyond Zigilus. There were barriers in place, set by the gods, that prevented it. They began to fail once you reached a certain point and eventually crashed.


    The farthest had been an expedition out to Macshore, led by a pilot named Carsus. Garacel had given him a light airship, one of the lightest, with a small crew and load. Yet, he made it there with one of the most formidable achievements.


    However, the ship crashed, and he had to come back by boat.


    For it, he had been rewarded handsomely. Later, he entered Zigildrazia''s harem with high prestige and became a demon in his own right.


    But this airship was gigantic and unadorned. There were hundreds of men stored upon it. And it was part of an entire fleet. Narcissa stood on the deck, admiring the landscape as it flowed beneath them. She looked up to where Garacel was approaching. "This ship is truly amazing, Master Garacel. How have we not conquered the world with these?"


    "They have remarkable capabilities," said Garacel. "Unfortunately, they are limited to those areas where Her Radiance is most powerful."


    "Why?" asked Narcissa.


    "The other gods do not approve of all her inventions," said Garacel. "The airship was a fine idea, but it was not one the other gods wanted. They were concerned that the rapid speed it would allow mortals to travel could ruin all.


    "So it is limited to the area around Zigilus.


    "But in time, we will expand that area until Her Radiance''s airships may fly across the world."


    "I know that Illaryus taught me. I''ve seen long-distance airships, though. He was pulling into port in Zigilus," said Narcissa, a little irritated. "Though they were much smaller."


    "This is true," said Garacel. "For the smaller craft can go farther afield. These ones'', meant to hold armies, are vastly limited in what they may do. Were they to stray from them, they would fall from the heavens like lightning."


    For a time, they continued on their journey. Then, the lands of long black grass began to fade away. In its place, the grass became green. The skies went from violet to red, and the trees went strange. At first, it was subtle, but they looked less carnivorous as time passed.


    Soon, the lands became rocky, and the grass less green, more brownish. Cliffs began to rise beneath them, and tall mountains. They were coming to the Highlands of the Sword, the border between Calisha and Dinis.


    At the last moment, Grakus arrived. He wore his armor, but his whips were coiled around one huge bicep. He bowed as Garacel looked at him. "Grakus, has all been made ready?"


    "Indeed it has, Lord Garacel," said Grakus. "My warriors will go forth to meet the Kalthakians. And they will not refuse us battle."


    "Why not stay behind their defenses?" asked Narcissa.


    "If they do so, we shall annihilate their fields and burn their homes," said Garacel. "They will march to meet us. It is not in their nature to let an enemy go unopposed. Moreover, the pass below us is an excellent defense."


    "Will we be fighting?" asked Narcissa.


    "No, we will not, Narcissa," said Garacel. "You, Alkela, and I have a mission of our own. During the armies of Kalthak stalemate Grakus at the pass, we will slip through a smaller way. When we have reached their city, we shall launch our raid." He looked back at the giant. "Remember, Grakus, you are here to keep them occupied. Do not engage them unless you must."


    "Yes, yes, I understand," said Grakus.


    The airship gradually descended toward the mouth of the pass. Even as they neared it, the craft began to shudder. Narcissa felt like it might fall to pieces at any moment. They must be near the limit of the airship''s powers.


    Then she peered past the highlands. She saw beyond them a country of bright green trees and beautiful fields. So many farms were tilled beneath a violet sun that a claw seemed to grip high above. And she saw a small city with walls. They were of a different make from Dinis, with slanted roofs and white stone, and they were lower and thinner.


    "Behold, the capital of Western Kalthak, Khasina," said Garacel, tone strange. "The center of power on this side of the wastes."


    "That''s it?" asked Narcissa. "It''s a lot smaller than Zigilus?"


    "Zigilus is at its zenith," said Garacel. "While Kalthak is but a shadow of what it once was. I remember long ago when the island of Namina still stood tall. Then, there were vast jungles that flowed all throughout the world. There was a great river there, and the maidens would bathe there.


    "I found many a conquest there."


    "You lived here?" asked Narcissa.


    "Indeed," said Garacel. "It was not always ruled by Baltoth. I was the god of this place. But I was cast down. Yet my people were strong, and Baltoth could not establish himself for long.


    "Then Namina fell into the sea, and its people were made refugees who fled here. So much was lost, and the sorcerers became too bold without my guiding hand. They enslaved demons in objects and forced them to do their bidding.


    "The land was made a slave to them. No god was seen as worthy to rule them.


    "At last, their hubris consumed them. A great rebellion was waged by those they had enslaved. The land was reduced to a wasteland. In many places where once there was life and plenty, there is only dirt and rock.


    "Now, at last, their fall is complete. They serve Baltoth. My nemesis." He drew his sword and motioned. "Come, we have much work to do."


    The airship''s legs opened up and set themselves down on the ground. Garacel led Narcissa and Alkela down to the lower decks and then out of the belly. By the time they got there, the armies had assembled. Warriors bearing axes and spears, their armor painted in the images of demons.


    Grakus came forward. "Lord Garacel, our scouts have returned. The armies of Kalthak array themselves, as you predicted. Asim is leading them."


    "Then you are to avoid a confrontation," said Garacel. "Keep him occupied with a few skirmishes if you must. I will handle the rest. Come, both of you."


    They set out as Garacel began to establish his camp. As Garacel led them up to the slopes, Narcissa glanced back. She saw Garacel and his men erecting temporary fortifications. They were driving stakes into the rocky ground. Behind them, they piled stones, and by the time they got halfway up the slope, they were ready to repel an assault.


    Still, Narcissa felt strange, and her legs hurt from the climbing. "It feels so strange walking without high heels," she muttered.


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    "As I said, such an outfit would be immensely impractical in this place," said Garacel.


    "Where are we going?" asked Narcissa. "I don''t see any way through."


    "There are secret ways to every realm," said Garacel. "Here is one of them." Then he halted by an area of the undecorated wall. Walking a little way on, he slipped into the rock face and was gone. Narcissa ran forward and saw there was a gap in the wall. One that could only be seen from below if you were standing right by it.


    Slipping through, she got her axe caught on it. She only got it free with Alkela''s help and soon fell into it. As she moved, she heard the sound of metal on flesh and a gasp. Emerging out in a relaxed way, she halted and here found Garacel. His sword was bloodied, and he was wiping it on his cloak.


    Beneath his boots were two men lying headless on the ground. They wore concealing clothes. Their blood was pouring out over the stones, and Garacel appeared satisfied. What was this sensation she felt at seeing the blood? The feeling she got when she thought of a blade cleaving through their necks, swift and clean?


    She had never contemplated it before today. Never wondered why she felt this way. It had merely come to her as naturally as breathing.


    "What happened here?" asked Narcissa, trying to ignore the feeling.


    These weren''t raishans. They were living human beings who had been killed. And yet, looking at them made her feel good. What kind of monster was she?


    "Asim knows of this pass," noted Garacel. "It seems he left men as watchers. We must move quickly. More will be where these came from."


    "How did you learn of this pass?" asked Narcissa.


    "Long ago, in better days," said Garacel as he led them, "this whole area was a beautiful river. Then, the water poured out of the side of the rock, flowing up from a spring. The water has gone away, but the shape it left remains.


    "Still, how did Asim know of it? His domain is further to the north."


    The path led down north, and Narcissa struggled with her feelings. Finally, as they began to make their way down the track, she approached Garacel.


    "Master Garacel," said Narcissa, gripping her axe, "when I saw those men you killed, I felt... I felt good. Why? Why would I feel that way?"


    "It is your bloodline," said Garacel. "The blood of the Archon of Lust runs through your veins. So you were made in her image. Amysta was well known for her love of carnage, so the love has passed to you."


    "Amysta?" asked Narcissa in surprise.


    "The sister of Zigildrazia. She was the Archon of Lust," said Garacel. "But I have said too much, and we have work to do."


    They came before the Kalthakian army and found it very large. They had established their forces behind a heavy wall, reaching up to their chests. Many cherry blossom trees were growing around them, though they were not yet blooming. The men seemed to be sparring, but there were watchers at the ready.


    "No conflict just yet," said Garacel. "I have some old friends among the spirits of this land. They shall weave a spell over us so we are not seen."


    "Why doesn''t Asim attack us?" asked Narcissa as they slipped silently through the trees.


    "He remembers well his father''s invasion of Zigilus," said Garacel. "And he has learned his lesson too well. So, Asim only attacks directly if he is in absolute superiority.


    "He prefers to pick the ground and let his enemy come to him."


    "What about his invasion of Western Kalthak?" asked Narcissa.


    "He focused there on soft targets," said Garacel. "And struck by swift raids to bait King Belosh into a confrontation on his terms. But enough of this, we have work to do."


    They walked, and none noticed their passing. Soon, the city was drawing steadily nearer, even as the sun fell and the moon took place. Even so, Narcissa was worried. The gates were smaller than Zigilus, but they were still huge. And she doubted all the warriors had gone away with Asim.


    "Lord Garacel, even if we''ve gotten past the main Kalthakian army, how are we to get into the city," said Narcissa. "There must be some guards remaining."


    "There are," said Garacel in a pleased tone. "But we are not only three in number. For those who died in my service now inhabit my form. Their wills and souls well within me, and I may call upon them for their blades." He raised his blade, and it gleamed with a violet flame. "Come forth, ancient warriors of the Lover Eternal. Come forth and serve your master once more."


    There was a chilling sensation. Then specters appeared. Hundreds upon specters, clad in armor, were painted with the images of demons. They glowed with white light and swirled around them in more significant numbers.


    "We come... as commanded..." said one.


    Garacel raised a hand and pointed it at the gate. There was a beam of light, and it struck. The doors shattered into splinters. Moments later, an alarm bell began to sound.


    "Go forth now," said Garacel. "Find the Blade of Chaos. Kill all those who defend it. But do not strike without need, nor rush to unnecessary battle. Asim will come after us, and we must be swift."


    "So shall the way be opened," said the specters.


    So the specters rushed forward into the gates. Cries of alarm came from the guards as they ran to try and block their path. Garacel strode on through the fray. Narcissa saw a specter be slashed down by a blade, only to slash the one responsible as it faded. Another of the ghosts carved down a man while they jabbed at him with a spear.


    Yet the defenders were quickly scattered.


    And then came another. He descended down from the rooftops and fell upon the specters. He wielded a shining katana and weaved through the specters, slaying many in mere moments. The ghosts swirled around him, attacking from all sides. For a moment, it seemed like he would be overwhelmed.


    Then another force descended, spear in hand, and scattered them.


    Garacel glanced back from his walking. Without another word, they summoned several more spirits. "So Tuor himself has come down to this place, has he? This timing is most unfortunate." Narcissa turned back, but Garacel set a hand on her shoulder. "Don''t stop for them. We will take what we came here for and be gone soon."


    "Where are we going?" asked Narcissa.


    "To a shrine," said Garacel. "A place that was designed to protect the Blade of Chaos. For a long time, it was kept secret. But Dakan''s contacts located it some time ago."


    "But what about your warriors?" asked Narcissa.


    "Fear not," said Garacel. "They are bound to me by the bonds of love; no sword can break those. They shall know no rest until my vengeance is achieved." So on they walked through the streets, the sound of fighting continuing.


    "Well, what about that man with the shining sword?" asked Narcissa.


    "One of an ancient clan commissioned by a dead descendant of Baltoth," said Garacel. "She hoped to use them to engineer the downfall of her sire. But when her plans were foiled, Baltoth adopted them for his own use."


    "What was her name?" asked Narcissa.


    "I do not remember," admitted Garacel. "It was long ago, and I was still in the mine. But, come, we need haste."


    They came to the palace and found guards standing by. The warriors rushed forward with their spears. Before Garacel could move, Alkela surged forward with her mace. Narcissa ran ahead with her, drawing her axe. She shattered a spear as it came at her before bringing it around the back of her axe. The blade there into his eye. He screamed and fell back, and Narcissa spun around her axe to drive it into his chest.


    At the same time, Alkela had smashed the skulls of two. But Narcissa soon found herself hard-pressed, driven back by the spears. It was all she could do to keep them off her. Then Garacel strode past, his blades moving in a blur. As he sheathed his sword, the guards exploded into blood.


    "Well done, both of you," said Garacel.


    Narcissa stared at the man she''d killed. She''d meant to strike him with the shaft and knock him unconscious. Instead, she''d killed him. Murdered him. She felt bile rising in her throat and wanted to throw up. But another force, a sick enjoyment, rose within her, one not her own. She looked at Alkela and saw her smiling. Why was she smiling?


    "Enough, both of you!" said Garacel. "We have little time left!"


    Narcissa fought back the bile and followed. Alkela did the same, tossing her bloodied mace into the air and catching it.


    Garacel veered off the main path and went to a smaller building to the palace''s left. It wasn''t guarded or anything. And yet, as they approached the door, Narcissa found it hard to keep going. Her legs were reluctant to move, and she felt like something within her was snarling in pain.


    Garacel himself seemed reluctant to move forward. But he pressed on nonetheless and came to the doors. Then, bringing down his sword, he struck them. But the blade rang and flew back as some force set itself against them.


    "As I thought," said Garacel. "Baltoth protects this realm. And I am not yet strong enough to contest his will."


    "What do we do then?" asked Narcissa. "I could break the doors."


    "You may feel free to try," said Garacel before turning away and opening a compartment in his armor.


    Narcissa shrugged and raised her axe. Then she halted. She felt as though she had been commanded not to go further by some stern watcher. The tenseness in her muscles failed. But she pulled back her axe anyway to strike. Now, she felt as though there were dozens of arrows pointed at her. Again, she was being warned to halt. Narcissa was afraid and did not want to strike. She swung her axe down and then veered off. It wasn''t that she had decided against hitting it.


    Her limbs would not obey her. How had Garacel done it? She tried to draw back her hand to try again, but her body would not respond.


    Then Garacel set several sticks to the door and murmured an incantation.


    "We''d best move away from here," said Garacel.


    "Is that a magic device that will break the enchantment?" asked Narcissa.


    "In a manner of speaking," said Garacel before pulling her and Alkela away.


    Moments later, the stick exploded. A noise like thunder blew the entire door into splinters. The door frame and part of the roof were obliterated, which caught fire and fell in.


    "Baltoth may intimidate others," said Garacel. "His master of order gives him power over the wills of men, preventing them from fighting at their fullest. Fortunately, that device has no consciousness. I need only cast a small spell."


    Garacel walked forward without fear. The shrine had images painted on the walls of strange stories. But even as they walked, the flames were consuming them.


    And there, meditating among the rising flames, was a woman. She wore white and red clothes and had short, dark hair. Her skin was pale, and she was thin and beautiful. Over her knees was set a naginata spear, but her hands were not on it.


    Her eyes opened as Garacel strode in.


    She arose in one smooth movement, the naginata coming into her hands of its own accord. She spun and flourished it with practiced ease before turning it toward Garacel. Master Garacel readied his own blade and took a stance.


    Both faced one another, no words being passed between them. The smoke rose ever higher, but it seemed to flee from the woman. Finally, only the crackling of flames could be heard.


    Then, a roof tile fell from above. As it struck the ground, the woman sprang. She surged forward and unleashed a flurry of strikes. Garacel parried them before bringing around his sword at her neck. But she ducked and stabbed upwards, nearly catching him in the shoulder.


    Back and forth, they dueled.


    As they did, Narcissa sensed something. It was power, primal, and hungry. It drew her, and she slipped past the fighting toward the door at the far end. Reaching it, Narcissa saw that the door seemed rotten. Like it was being eaten away behind them.


    As Narcissa reached out, the door crumbled.


    And beyond was the Blade of Chaos. It was beautiful and terrible at once. Its serrated blade seemed to exist to drink blood. Yet also to liberate the oppressed. Narcissa reached out for it- Her senses screamed at her, and she ducked.


    The naginata surged over her head. Narcissa swung her axe around, but the woman leaped up and landed on the blade, shoving it down. She brought the spear around, and Narcissa fell back as it nearly cut her throat. Then Alkela was upon her, mace falling. But the woman surged away, and roundhouse kicked Alkela to the ground. Even as she readied her spear, Garacel was on her, and they continued to duel.


    Narcissa around and grabbed the Blade of Chaos. She felt a rush of freedom as she pulled it from the shrine. And as she did, the flames rose ever higher and hotter. Soon, the whole shrine was a raging inferno, and then, a moment later, it had been consumed and was but ashes and embers.


    Then Garacel was thrown back, the spear in his shoulder. The guardian of the shrine slashed at him repeatedly. Then, he drew back the spear, summoning white light to it.


    On an impulse, Narcissa threw the Blade of Chaos.


    It spun through the air toward her, and the guardian leaped back. She narrowly avoided being speared. The blade then dipped low and landed directly in front of Garacel, who snatched it up. He rose now, and he seemed filled with a terrible green light.


    As he raised the Blade of Chaos, the guardian woman surged forward, and Garacel went to meet her. They passed each other and halted. For a moment, they stood there, weapons in front of them.


    Then blood spewed from the guardian''s shoulder, and she collapsed.


    Then, a shadow descended upon them.

 Chapter 55 - Ten: The Pursuit

    As soon as Nayasha spoke, Sahshir arose and moved to draw his blade. But Tuor caught his hand as he did so, eyes closed in contemplation. For a moment, they struggled in place. "Stay your blade, Sahshir. This is too blatant a move by Zigildrazia to be entirely genuine. She has something else planned."


    "Whatever it is, it will be foiled if we defeat them," said Sahshir.


    "Perhaps," conceded Tuor. "And it would not do to leave this city undefended. But, if Asim meets him in a direct confrontation, I expect he will be victorious. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "But I do not think this is anything more than a diversion. Garacel knows this domain well."


    "Garacel?" asked Sahshir. "That legendary enemy of Baltoth was here? "Are you certain it is him?"


    "Not certain," said Tuor. "But it is likely. The one-timer ruler of Dinis and Kalthak. He has come here for some purpose. And I believe it lies within this shrine."


    "The Blade of Chaos?" said Kushina.


    "Yes," said Tuor. "No doubt, he has sensed its awakening."


    "Baltoth is my strength," said Kushina. "No man or god will pass my watch. I would like to know if you discussed this with Asim."


    "I didn''t," said Tuor. "If he is not even present for the coming battle, it will aid Sahshir''s cause. But, in the meantime, we must make preparations of our own. Nayasha set a watch on the gate. If Garacel comes, it will be personal. And he will bring with him his specters.


    "We must be ready."


    They made their way out of the shrine and saw troops departing the palace in good order. They marched together, wearing the full reddish armor of Kalthak''s elites. At their sides were long blades, and in their hands were spears. Others bore little or no armor and brought out spears or axes in a militia. The bells of wrath, taken from Antion in a raid long ago by his ancestors, were ringing. Their sound resounded from their towers at the gatehouse. All to summon the militia throughout the city as women and children hurried home. Merchants could be seen trying to get their goods to safer places, while dark clouds filled the sky.


    The armies of Eastern Kalthak could field up to ten thousand men if fully mustered. Yet Khasina was not Kalthak, and there was no time. Here, they had only three thousand at the best of times. Most of them militia spearmen drilled by the order of Baltoth. Asim''s personal forces would help; he had his own resources. But how had the enemy come so quickly?


    Asim was also there, wearing his black armor and looking very pleased. With him was Sushaki, clad in a white suit. They were speaking, and Sushaki nodded before putting a closed fist to his chest in salute. Asim turned and marched away.


    Sahshir walked up to Sushaki, bearing his sword. Sushaki turned to him, his fair face impassive. Never had Sahshir seen anyone look so noble in armor. Nor had he known any deceptive and vicious two-faced liar to appear so fair. "Sahshir. You are here."


    "Yes," said Sahshir. "I will offer my sword to the defense of this city."


    Even Sushaki wouldn''t be depraved enough to turn on the city for spite''s sake.


    "Baltoth tells us that the leader who does not understand what it is to be a soldier cannot command," said Sushaki. And he set a hand of his own sword. It was a majestic blade of beauty nearly his equal. Unfortunately, however, I doubt either of us will have the chance.


    "Father will deal with this raid soon enough."


    "It may yet be more than that," said Sahshir. "Let us go to the wall."


    Together, they walked as they had with Kushina in long years past. With them were many men. As they marched, Sahshir was careful to stay beyond the reach of any save Sushaki, and he kept a hand upon his sword.


    Soon, they came to the gate and observed Asim walking for the pass at the border. His soldiers moved swiftly in the moonlight and disappeared into the dark. Sahshir glanced back and saw men drawing near at hand. But he caught them in his gaze, and they stepped back.


    They waited.


    Sahshir contemplated his threat to Sushaki, one made in haste. But he had taken the part of Asim. Departed Sahshir''s company and hoped to one day stand as King on Sahshir''s rightful throne.


    "No sign," said Sushaki, coming to him. "Our watchers have seen no sign of the enemy. Nor has Asim met them in battle. We should have seen them."


    Sahshir focused his vision on the moon high above. Then, looking deep into the moon, he murmured a prayer to the Moon Spirit under his breath.


    Perhaps by design or chance, a beam of light shot down and illuminated three figures before the gate. Two smaller figures, clad in black armor with a mace and an axe. And one hulking figure in the armor of dark steel inlaid with gold. And power was in his bearing.


    Sahshir set a hand on Sushaki''s shoulder. Sushaki started and set a hand to his blade before relaxing.


    "What is it?" said Sushaki.


    "Three figures," said Sahshir. "See there."


    Sushaki''s gaze turned where Sahshir pointed. A murmur resounded among the men.


    "Perhaps they mean to enter by stealth?" said Sushaki.


    "In such armor? I doubt it," said Sahshir. "Let us-"


    And then the gate was shattered. And into view came hundreds of ghostly figures. They swarmed through the gate, and cries of surprise were heard from within.


    "Specters of the dead," said Sahshir before rushing toward the gate.


    "To arms!" he heard Sushaki cry. "We must defend the gate!"


    Sahshir was ahead of them all. He vaulted across the flat rooftops until he came to the gate. He saw the guards fighting with the specters as the armored figures walked at them. The battle was going ill. Their swords hardly injured the creatures, and armor was all but useless.


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    "The wrath of Baltoth strikes from on high!" cried Sahshir aloud.


    And drawing the Sword of Order, he fell upon the specters. He cleaved through one as he descended, and it dissipated. Then he lunged forward and slashed through another. He cut around him, and two dissipated. The creatures swerved away from him in all directions.


    But soon, they returned with greater fury. They shot down upon him from the air, and he felt a spectral blade rake his shoulder. They were all around him now, and though he killed more with every moment, he was overwhelmed.


    Then came the men.


    Sushaki led a charge into the midst of the spirits. Cutting down a specter with his sword, he engaged another. A great battle began anew, and Sahshir hacked and slashed around him. Yet it was only beginning, and the leader of their enemy was nowhere to be found. Spearmen of the militia formed a line and thrust forward, chanting prayers to Baltoth.


    The ghosts recoiled.


    Sushaki met him, and the two stood back to back. They turned in a circle together, and wherever their gaze fell, the enemy died. Yet the leader was nowhere to be found.


    "Sahshir," said Sushaki, "the necromancer is not here. Go and find him. He will surely seek the Blade of Chaos. We''ll deal with these."


    Sahshir nodded and retreated from the battlefield. Scaling up a wall, he left once more across the rooftops. As he did, he saw battles spreading throughout the streets. And yet, not one door was broken open. Not one window was shattered. Those who fled were not pursued, for the specters sought only to do battle with the fighting men.


    Soon, he came to the shrine and found it a raging inferno that sent sweat streaking down his brow. Such was the heat that he could hardly approach without being burned. And yet the flames died just as quickly, and he was able to come through the smoke. Then, scaling up a wall, he looked down into the roofless ruin.


    And there, he saw the armored figure and Kushina dueling. They passed one another and halted. In the armored figure''s hand was the Blade of Chaos. It gleamed hatefully, and then Kushina collapsed to the ground.


    "Kushina!" cried Sahshir. So they had killed his friend! He''d kill them! He''ll kill them all for this insult!


    Leaping from the roof, he plunged his sword down toward his enemy. But as he did, the Blade of Chaos blocked the Sword of Order. The two powers ripped against one another, and Sahshir staggered back beneath the force of it.


    Yet the armored figure did not. Instead, he pressed forward, and Sahshir was forced onto the defensive. It was all he could do to survive the onslaught as blows like lightning rained. Soon, he had fallen to his back near Kushina. Rolling away from a downward thrust, he avoided being impaled. He felt his soul quiver at the sight of the blade as he jumped and took a stance.


    "The Sword of Order." said the figure. "In the hands of an unworthy wielder. So much, the better. When you meet your god, tell him Garacel has his sword!"


    Garacel lunged. But Sahshir rolled aside and jabbed upward. His sword caught the god beneath the armpit, and Garacel recoiled, armor chipped. His returning strike nearly took Sahshir''s head off, but Sahshir backflipped away. Sahshir stooped by Kushina and, grasping her, leaped onto the wall and away. He fled, feeling Kushina''s blood on him until he was far away. Setting her down, he tore the cloth from her skirt and used it to bind her wound as best he could. Then, he did the same to his own wound.


    Kushina opened her eyes. "Sahshir, go after them..."


    "What?" said Sahshir.


    "You must go after them now," said Kushina, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The Blade of Chaos must be found... it must not be allowed to fall into their hands." She drew the crystal talisman from her neck and pressed it into his hands. "Take this gem. I''ll be able to speak with you about it. Follow after our enemy and report... on their...location..."


    "As you wish," said Sahshir.


    Rising up, he left behind Kushina. Leaping back to the shrine, he found it smoldering still. But footsteps of ash were trekking through the streets. Sahshir followed after them, and while the footsteps disappeared, the trail did not. For wherever Garacel walked, soldiers and guards lay cleaved and dead.


    He made no attempt at stealth but walked swiftly and indeed the way he had come. And all who resisted him were dead in pieces. Or cowering in terror. Sahshir went to the gates and saw Sushaki lying against the wall, breathing hard. His sword was broken, and his armor was cracked.


    Sahshir could not stop. His mission was too urgent.


    As he passed through the gates, he took to the shadows, praying to the Moon Spirit to keep her rays from him. And soon, he came within sight of the three enemies. A direct battle would be hopeless, so instead, he merely pursued.


    "Both of you performed well," said Garacel. "In the future, I can trust you with greater responsibilities."


    "I''d much rather stick to killing raishans, to be honest." said a female voice from one.


    "I will consider the fact, then," said Garacel. "But I may need your service in the future." The man seemed to have a good relationship with his subordinates. Sahshir doubted they were lovers.


    Kushina would be avenged.


    Garacel led them to the pass but veered off suddenly and made his way into a strange pass that was not on any maps. Eventually, he slipped into a crevice, followed by the others. Here, Sahshir considered ambushing them to kill them piecemeal.


    But it would be for naught. Unless he could overcome Garacel, killing his minions would only serve to alert him. He must observe. So he followed.


    The crevasse led out to an open area. And there, Sahshir saw the airships. Huge, bulbous black things, designed with images of depravity. Figureheads of succubi were at the front of each. And so he followed, almost within Garacel''s shadow.


    And then he saw an ogre. It was a giant thing that wore a helm shaped like a wolf''s maw. The teeth lined his face, and many whips were coiled around his right hand.


    "Master Garacel, you''ve returned." said the ogre, kneeling.


    "I have," said Garacel. "We have what we came for. Launch the airship and let us begone from here at once."


    "Why didn''t we bring any guards with us?" asked Garacel''s minion as they walked up the ramp.


    "They all would have died," said Garacel. "I''d rather spend some power to use warriors who have nothing to lose than lose men with families."


    "Right, of course," said the minion.


    The ramp closed behind them. The airship began to rise into the air. At that moment, Sahshir felt the weight of destiny was on him. He rushed forward and grabbed ahold of one of the legs of the device, even as it receded. Scaling up, he looked down to see the land growing small. Fortunately, the elaborate decoration of the airship provided many handholds. Sahshir was able to move along it until he came to the deck. There, he waited as the guards patrolled until he saw an opening.


    Pulling himself up, he shot past them and down into the area below. By fate or chance, none were there, and he could slip into the halls. He dodged guards and patrols until, at last, he found a storage room. Here, he opened it and slipped in.


    Here, he rested a moment. Then, drawing out the stone Kushina had given him, he focused his will through it. "Kushina, can you hear me?"


    "Yes," said Kushina.


    "The enemy has taken their airships. I''m onboard it, and it is leaving," said Sahshir.


    "Be careful, then," said Kushina. "Sushaki was seriously hurt in the fighting."


    "I thought you''d tell me to get off it," noted Sahshir.


    "When have I ever been able to get you to do anything?" asked Kushina. "Find a safe place and hide out until you make port."


    Sahshir meant to do just that.


    Then he heard voices from two guards, who stopped near the entrance.


    "So we''re headed back to Zigilus then?" said one.


    "Yes. I heard Lord Garacel found the sword we were looking for," said the other.


    "Good. Those natural lands gave me chills." said the first. "When I get back, I''ll first have my way with one of those slave succubi in the brothels."


    "To each their own," said his friend, voice distasteful.


    "Oh, come on." said the first. "They''re mindless, obedient, and beautiful as long as you pay. What''s wrong with that?"


    "I like to have my way with things that can think," said the second.


    Sahshir raised the stone. "Kushina, what is a slave succubus?"


    "A mockery of the female form," said Kushina. "And sometimes the male form, though those are rare. Zigildrazia often transforms criminals in her domain into them, using them for prostitution.


    "It is a primary industry of many cities that worship her."


    "Sickening," said Sahshir. That was what Kushina would expect him to say.


    "I''m well aware," said Kushina. "Listen, Sahshir, I won''t be able to fight for a while. And a lot of people have been hurt or killed. So don''t expect any invasion any time soon. We won''t be able to bail you out if you are captured."


    "You need not concern yourself. I learned the ways of shadow from Tuor," said Sahshir.


    "Do you hear something?" asked one.


    Sahshir covered his eyes with one hand.


    "Oh, come on," said the other. "Who could get all the way up here?"


    "These Kalthakians are a determined sort," said the first. "They can do insane things if it means hurting their enemies. Some might have tracked Lord Garacel back, and we might never have known it."


    "Well, we will now," said the second.


    They opened the door, and Sahshir drew his ghost blade. It passed through both their necks, and they fell to the ground, unconscious. Sahshir then dragged their limp forms into the room. They should be out cold soon. "I hate hiding."


    Setting a hand to the Sword of Chaos, he felt it emanating power. The Blade of Chaos was near. Perhaps Sahshir could steal it back or kill Garacel while he was unaware.


    It was worth a try.


    He left the storeroom and drew his Ghost Blade. It was time to see if he could defeat this entire ship by stealth. What was the worst that could happen?

 Chapter 56 - Eleven: Plans for the Future

    It had been quite an adventure, actually. They''d seen Master Garacel in action, even seen him face an equal. A war between ghosts and mortal men had played out before their eyes. But at last, it was over. They were finally going home.


    Narcissa was more than glad of the fact as she slid her one-piece leather outfit on. She slipped the straps onto her left shoulder and stretched. She enjoyed the sensation of the soft leather as she slipped on the other.


    Wearing a glorified tin can was not fun at all. However, she felt and looked much better like this. Narcissa admired herself in the mirror. Had there ever been a servant of Zigildrazia to look so flawless?


    Aside from Alkela, of course. Her blonde hair and perfect complexion were something to be shown freely. And her other excellent features were something that ought to be appropriately foreshadowed. Especially those fabulous breasts and hips...


    All the more fitting for Narcissa''s twin sister. Who else could compare in looks?


    Narcissa drew in a breath as they crossed the border. Even now, she could feel the energy of Zigilus flowing through her as they drew nearer. The sky had already returned to normal. She began tying her hair back into its original ponytail. As she looked at Alkala''s reflection in the mirror. Her twin had finished some minutes ago; she always dressed quickly and held her mace.


    "Ugh, it feels so good to be out of that armor and back in leather," said Narcissa. "Right, Alkela?"


    Alkela moved forward and set a hand on Narcissa''s left shoulder. Narcissa met her gaze, and something seemed off about her. Ever since Alkela had seen the Sword of Chaos, she''d seemed odd. There was steel in her eyes that hadn''t been there before. Though Narcissa felt somewhat bizarre herself.


    They had set foot in a world that did not revolve wholly around Zigildrazia''s will. Or even Baltoth''s. It had been strange, and somehow Narcissa felt stronger. But, on the other hand, she thought she would not be the same even when she was back in Zigilus. And she wasn''t sure she wanted it to be the same.


    Narcissa shoved Alkela''s hand off her shoulder and walked past. "Come on, let''s go see Garacel," said Narcissa. "We''ll be getting back to Zigilus in a few hours. The first thing I''m going to do is eat a feast. What do you think?"


    Alkela looked at her flatly. Narcissa sighed. "Yeah, right. I know, ''choose a healthy diet or die.''" Alkela suddenly looked up. Her eyes flicked to the door, and she picked up the mace she''d kept. Narcissa looked at her oddly. "What''s wrong?"


    Alkela made for the door. "Akela, where are you going? And why are you still using that stupid mace? You looked better, making use of hand-to-hand anyway."


    Alkela didn''t turn back. Narcissa waited a moment. Then she sighed, snatched up her axe, and propped it over one shoulder. She followed her sister out of the room and into the halls. As they walked, Narcissa guessed she thought someone was on board. She moved toward her and grabbed Alkela by the shoulder. "Okay, seriously. Nobody is going to be able to stow away on this. Master Garacel would never miss them.


    "Let''s head to the bridge."


    Alkela looked at her and finally nodded. So they went off. As they did, they noticed that several of the patrols had been there before had been removed. Was someone slacking off? Or had Grakus found some other task for them?


    Personally, Narcissa didn''t see the need. They were miles in the air. Who was going to attack them up here? She''d heard that dragons flew in the fast western regions of the world. But the golden dragons of these lands crawled on eight legs. Even if they had wings, their armor was too heavy to take flight.


    They turned a corner, and at last, they reached the bridge. The guards saluted and opened the way for them, and they walked through. The bridge was an area of many magical displays that showed information. A three-dimensional map of light was coming from a table in the center. Garacel and Grakus were there, looking at it. They seemed to discuss something, but Narcissa couldn''t explain.


    As they approached, Garacel looked up. His arms were crossed, and the eyeholes of his helm glowed in satisfaction. "Ah, Narcissa, Akel, I''m glad you arrived. We''ll be arriving shortly. But, for now, we have things to discuss."


    "What sort of things?" asked Narcissa.


    "I''ve been in communication with Her Radiance. She is pleased with your conduct," said Garacel. "Both of you are to meet with her once we arrive. I recommend you prepare yourselves. Depending on how she presents herself, she can be overwhelming to look at."


    "Right," said Narcissa, not sure of herself. "That''s a great honor. I''m honored."


    "I have also received word regarding Zarana," said Garacel. "She is to be afforded a trial shortly after you arrive."


    Narcissa shifted. She didn''t want to think about Zarana right now. There was nothing she could do about it anyway. She should change the subject. There had been something she''d been meaning to ask. But how to say what she needed to say? It had been bugging her for some time. Maybe it had been bugging Alkela as well. A pity she couldn''t say anything. "Master Garacel, can I ask you something?"


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    "You may," said Garacel. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Why haven''t we seized the Blade of Chaos before now?" asked Narcissa. "We could have done it years ago."


    "A just question," said Garacel. "The Emperor has, until now, forbidden it. He fears the might of Calisha. But, now that he has turned on us, we have no reason not to seek its power.


    "Thus, Zigilus may fulfill its purpose. More importantly, however, the wars on the seal were designed to keep us out. We could pierce them only thanks to some inside help."


    "What manner of inside help?" asked Narcissa.


    "Dakan has many contacts," said Garacel. "And you do not need to know their names. Leave such matters to me, Narcissa. Concern yourself with your task today and plan for tomorrow only when necessary.


    "A man can spend his whole existence making plans and schemes greater than any other. But they will amount to nothing if he does not act on them. Fortunate favors those who act."


    "But, of course," said Grakus, "one ought to wait for the right time. The one who rushes in with no plan dies without achieving anything. Though far faster, I expect."


    Narcissa looked at Alkela. "You said that Zigilus may fulfill its purpose. What do you mean? Do you mean Zigildrazia founded an entire city on stealing the Blade of Chaos?"


    "There were several reasons," said Garacel. "And it was on my recommendation. But that was one of them, yes. We needed a convenient place from which we could seize the sword.


    "Her Radiance made that sword, long ago, to Typhos'' specifications. Just as Barden forged the Sword of Order for Valinor. Typhos gave the Blade of Chaos to Baltoth so that he could defeat Valinor. But he cast it aside when he took Valinor''s domain.


    "It has lain where it is for years."


    "Why would Baltoth cast aside so powerful a weapon?" asked Narcissa.


    "The Blade of Chaos is the antithesis to the domain of Order," said Grakus. He uncrossed his arms and set one hand to his sword. "When Baltoth became the God of Order, it would hurt him to hold it."


    "Well then, why not use the Sword of Order instead?" asked Narcissa.


    "Baltoth prefers to work through other people," said Garacel. "Although a formidable warrior, he never does anything himself. Nothing that he cannot achieve through a proxy, at any rate. Thus, he passes the Sword of Order to a worthy warrior whenever the Blade of Chaos is in ascent. It fuels his pride to delegate.


    "But that has not been for many ages since the fall of Typhos."


    Narcissa paused. She found all this interesting and wanted to know more. "So what are we going to do with the Blade of Chaos? Are we going to use it against the Emperor?"


    "We might gain a great victory that way," said Garacel. "But our plans are more... cosmic in nature."


    "Our goal is to restore Typhos to life," said Grakus, punching one massive fist against his hand. "Once the Blade of Chaos is plunged into her still-beating heart, she will live again. Her form shall be restored, and she will consume all our enemies.


    "We need only pay the blood-"


    Garacel raised a gauntlet, and Grakus fell silent. "Enough," said Garacel, gazing hard at Grakus. "Narcissa is not yet advanced enough in Her Radiance''s service to understand her will. And that should not have been spoken of so openly until we were safe within Zigilus."


    Suddenly, the door opened, and a soldier burst into the room. He did not march with any decorum; sweat was on his brow as he kneeled with a clang. "Lord Garacel, we have a problem."


    "What is it?" asked Garacel, turning to him. His grip on his sword tightened.


    "Several dozen of our patrols have disappeared," said the soldier, bowing his head. So it hadn''t all been in Narcissa''s head. Alkela must have noticed it. "We found a number of them unconscious and in storage closets."


    Garacel drew the Sword of Chaos and focused on it. It thrummed and seemed alight with green flame. "...Interesting, the Blade of Chaos senses its enemy.


    "We have an intruder."


    Alkela slapped Narcissa across the back of the head. Narcissa rubbed it. "Okay, okay. You''ve made your point, sis. Lord Garacel, grant us permission to look for them.


    "We''ll find this intruder and kill him."


    Was it the warrior from before? He''d survived fighting Garacel. Could he have followed them back by stealth?


    Garacel remained silent. The flames within his body seemed to flicker red, and Narcissa sensed a presence within. Then he looked at them. "No," said Garacel. "Prepare to evacuate to the other ships immediately."


    "You heard him!" said Grakus. "Prepare for evacuation!"


    "Why?" asked Narcissa. "We could just kill him."


    "Of course, we could. And we will," said Garacel. "But not directly."


    "Why not directly? You already beat him once," said Narcissa.


    Garacel looked resigned. "Zigildrazia is more interested in winning than playing the game with style. She has some particular preferences for how this should end.


    "I intend to channel those preferences into an actual result."


    "I don''t understand," said Narcissa.


    "Just bear with her," said Garacel. "She has her reasons, I''m sure."


    "I''m going to send searches to find the unconscious guards," said Grakus. "No sense in losing any fighting men."


    "Good," said Garacel. "Just be sure to move quickly. We''ve been ordered to scuttle the vessel when we see Zigilus."


    "But airships are expensive," said Narcissa. "And Zarana told me the magic seeps into the land below it when they explode. This could scorch the land beneath it. "


    "Narcissa, I am well aware that these orders do not appear to make any rational sense," said Garacel. "Her Radiance is aware, as well. She likes it that way. Now, retrieve your armor and things and prepare to leave.


    "Rest assured, things will be explained when you deliver the Blade of Chaos to her."


    Narcissa nodded and then looked at Alkela. "Let''s go."


    As they left, Narcissa looked at Alkela. "This explanation Zigildrazia has for us had better be good."


    Alkela nodded. Then, the sound of fighting reached their ears, not from the halls but from below.

 Chapter 57 - Twelve: Improvisation

    Masked soldiers rushed through the halls of the airship, their boots tramping. Though the shoes were very well polished, the outfits were clean for one in battle. Spearbutt was raised a foot off the ground. The medical bays were likewise clean, and healers were at work. Very soon, the wounded were up and about in an impressive display. Sahshir remained where he was on the ceiling, watching them go by. Then, when they were behind him, he dropped down silently.


    "Something is wrong?" he said to Kushina as he stalked through the halls.


    "What, exactly?" said Kushina.


    "I don''t know," admitted Sahshir. "But the patterns of the crew have been changing. I believe they are alerted to my presence." He stalked around a hall and saw several people carrying away unconscious guards. "Yes, they are alert."


    "Then why aren''t they hunting you?" asked Kushina.


    Sahshir slipped through the halls as quickly as he could. "I do not know. But I may learn the truth in the bridge."


    On he went. The doors in this place were opened by setting a hand to red crystals and finding fewer people around him. Eventually, he came to the doors of the bridge. They were unguarded, and the doors were unlocked.


    Entering, he saw a table where a map may have been put. But it was empty. Many chairs were abandoned, and at the far end was a window. It peered out over a strange sky of shifting colors, and Sahshir could see a city in the distance.


    Zigilus.


    It was built upon a high plateau at the base of a jagged mountain. The city was surrounded by walls four times the size of his own home. Around that were endless grass fields, unbroken by farmland for some distance. You could see settlements distant from it, made of the same style with farmsteads around them. There were many trees as well, but these had a strange shape, and something about them was off.


    In the shadow of the city was a vast encampment. A massive army had been arrayed before it, bearing the banner of Dinis. A great snake coiled around a fist. Sahshir attempted to count out their numbers by the tents he saw below. Then, he noted the standard, the symbol of a legion. There was only one of them, so they numbered roughly five thousand. That was how many men were in a Dinisian legion, after all.


    Then there were others, less well-armored and bearing bows and spears. Auxiliaries, Sahshir guessed, seemed to number around half the legion. Two thousand to three thousand, he supposed.


    Great siege machines were hurling flaming stones against the city. Arrows and stones surged down onto the attackers. They lodged themselves in portable shields that covered the engineers. One was struck in the throat and fell dead to the ground, healers going to him too late. The stones of the legion auxiliaries battered against the wall on the plateau. But they struck an invisible wall and shattered. What was happening here? Why would Zigilus send such a host against them when they were threatened at home?


    And why were they heading toward the army?


    Then, the doors opened behind him. Sahshir quickly took a position behind the map table. Drawing the Sword of Order, he eyed the reflection and saw a gigantic figure enter through the doors. It was a monster nearly three meters high, with long fangs. It had tan skin beneath its armor, and on the one hand, were many metal whips coiled.


    "Are you sure about this?" asked a familiar female voice.


    A fair-skinned, blonde girl around his age walked into the room beside him. Sahshir noted she was wearing a very impractical outfit. An axe was slung over one shoulder. With her was an identical girl, but with shorter hair.


    "Yes, I am." said the giant. "I always forget something when I have to leave in a hurry, and I mean to double-check this time." He drew near and bent down by the table, opening a drawer. "Ah, there it is. The maps."


    "What maps?" asked the girl.


    "I had the pass scouted while we were stalemating Asim," said Grakus. "Landscapes change, and you want to keep your maps updated. So come, let''s get to the other ships."


    They turned and departed.


    "So they are evacuating, are they?" murmured Sahshir. "But why?"


    "Whatever the reason," said Kushina, "you must find a way off quickly. They would unlikely abandon such a vessel unless they intended it to be destroyed."


    "You''re right," said Sahshir.


    Quickly moving up to the controls, he tried to move them. But they ignored his efforts, and all his attempts did not sway it from its path. Gradually, the ship was going lower now. The other vessels in the fleet were veering off, taking an alternate route.


    "I believe they intend to crash this vessel into the legions of Dinis," said Sahshir. "But why is such a war happening?"


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    "I have some idea," said Kushina, "however, it is not presently relevant.


    "There may be another way to stop this ship. It must have some means of staying in the air. If you sabotage it so it descends gradually, you could make a controlled landing."


    "A controlled landing?" asked Sahshir. "I can''t steer."


    "Well, a landing that doesn''t involve a fiery death." amended Kushina.


    "I think I need a new plan," said Sahshir. Seeing a drawer, he opened it and found several manuals. One of them was in Kalthakian, and he quickly scanned through it. "It says here that the engine room is in the back. The engine is, uh... I think it''s the thing that keeps this ship running."


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    Sahshir turned and rushed back through the airship. As he did, he found nothing and no one to oppose him. Soon, he came to the door to the engine room; he set his hand on the gem. Nothing happened.


    Sahshir drew out the Sword of Order and brought it down. The door bent and buckled beneath the stroke. Another blow saw it shatter. He stopped over the broken remnants of the door. Within this place, he found many strange devices topped with crystal orbs.


    These orbs were pulsing with magic.


    "Now let''s see, to deactivate the engine," said Sahshir. "I don''t understand how to disable these."


    "It is written: When you do not understand something, brute force can destroy it," said Kushina. Kushina was right. He could try to disable them carefully, but that would take too long. He could smash them, but that could cause an explosion. So he drew out his Ghost Sword and stabbed it through one of the crystals.


    The spells clashed against one another. Instantly, a reaction began as the disruption spread. Sahshir turned around and ran for his life, wishing he hadn''t broken the door on his way out. He got halfway down the hall when there was a shuddering. He was thrown forward from the force and narrowly got around a corner before a wave of flame shot by. Then, there was the rushing of air. Glancing back, he saw the open landscape below. It was a landscape that was getting closer by the moment.


    Sahshir paused. Blowing up the engines to prevent the airship from crashing was not his best idea. Of course, he''d die on his terms instead of his enemy. But he''d be dead all the same.


    "Well, I''m descending now," noted Sahshir.


    "So what''s the problem?" asked Kushina.


    "I''m descending more quickly than I''d like," admitted Sahshir.


    "How quickly?" asked Kushina.


    "...If I''m at the bottom of this ship when it crashes, I''m going to die," decided Sahshir.


    "Then get to the top," said Kushina.


    "Right," said Sahshir.


    Rising up, he sprinted through the halls of the airship and up the various stairs. If he got high enough on the vessel, the force might not be sufficient to kill him.


    At last, he reached the deck and found it empty. All but one of the airships were veering off, and he saw figures scaling into the last one. Going to the edge, he saw the ship descending towards the Dinis legions'' rear.


    Looking up at the balloon, he grabbed the rigging and began to scale it up. Pulling himself higher and higher, he reached the top and halted, balancing.


    Above him, he saw the enemy airship bring up its last soldier. And there, looking down, was the giant.


    He motioned to his guards. Then he leaped downward toward the airship. The giant landed before Sahshir, and the airship shuddered beneath his weight. As he raised his hand, the metal whips came loose and slashed at the air like snakes. He smiled.


    Sahshir drew the Sword of Order.


    "I''ll deal with you myself," said the giant.


    "Who are you?" asked Sahshir.


    "Grakus the Strong. Chief of the Enforcers." said the giant. "Prepare to die."


    The giant Tuor had spoken of?


    And then he was upon Sahshir. His whips slashed and struck like a hydra, and it was all he could do to evade it. Unfortunately, his footing was terrible. Sahshir nearly slid off the edge as he backed away. Dropping to one knee, Sahshir rolled aside as Grakus lunged. Vaulting over the giant, he stabbed down with the Sword of Order. But Grakus moved aside with surprising grace and brought around a fist. Sahshir twisted in midair to dodge it and brought around his blade.


    They passed each other and landed.


    And then the airship hit the ground. There was a shuddering, and both were thrown off it. Grakus and Sahshir hurtled through the air. Behind them, the vessel exploded into a ball of the purest flame, crashing through the armies of Dinis. Men fled before it as the fire consumed the area.


    Sahshir turned himself in midair and remembered his training. Summoning his will, he slowed his fall as he descended. So it was that as he landed, he did not break every bone in his body. However, he hit the ground at a roll and landed hard. For a moment, he remained there, lying with aching muscles.


    Then, he became aware of an armored man over them, raising a spear.


    On reflex, Sahshir rolled away and snatched up the Sword of Order. Bringing it up, he cleaved through armor and cut the man in half. Others were around him for a moment. He dodged and weaved around their weapons, hacking and slashing. Several heads fell around him as the airship exploded.


    Then, the gates of Zigilus opened.


    From them came massive hairless dogs. They had horns like those of deer and red skin and fangs like those of a lion. They tore down into the chaos of the camp and fell upon the army. Then, over the walls came many winged women with claws and spears. They swooped down to attack the legion, and soon, the battle was joined.


    Sahshir saw all this as he waved and hacked around him. His training was at work, and dozens had fallen to him. But he felt a blade nearly strike his eye and realized he would be overwhelmed. So, vaulting over a soldier, he spun through the air and landed behind. Then he made a run for it, fleeing toward Zigilus.


    Absolute chaos had overtaken the camp. The legionnaires were fighting with the dogs. Auxiliaries hurled spears or retreated for distance with trained practice. He saw one of them cut the head from a dog before cleaving another one across the skull. Then, he shielded a comrade from the spear of a winged woman. Archers came forward and shot down several of the winged women. They were succubi, or so Sahshir guessed.


    The succubi flew higher and began to hurl flames into the midst of the ranks. They mostly targeted siege equipment.


    And then came airships, smaller than those Sahshir had come here on. They sped overhead and opened their bellies. And from them came a rain of boiling oil that scorched them. Men screamed, clawing at their burning flesh. Tents burst into new flame. But warriors in white robes and masks came forward. They sent spheres of fire toward the airships. Some were caught and fell, blasted to pieces by the power. Then Grakus appeared, falling among the sorcerers. He tore through them with his whips. They scattered, and warriors came to bar his path.


    Sahshir decided he''d had enough of this. Slipping away from the conflict, he made his way up the path toward the gate, keeping to the shadows. As he did, he glanced back occasionally to see the combat continuing.


    The legion was regaining its momentum. They had rallied and were driving back the demons, with more being claimed every moment. Sahshir suspected that the monsters would soon be wiped out or they would withdraw.


    As he came to the gate''s shadow, Sahshir saw it was the latter.


    Grakus was last in the retreat, fighting back against the legion. He was undoubtedly a formidable warrior. Soon, the remaining legionnaires dared not pursue him and instead reestablished their defenses. Yet they were a mere fraction of what they had been before. Their siege engines were annihilated, and their tents and stores were destroyed.


    Yet even as the demons drew back their hand, Sahshir saw something. More legions were coming in the distance. Many more in number than those from before. He had never in his life seen such a host as this. The ground trembled, and the reflections of their shining helms were blinding.


    Their baggage train was truly massive as well.


    The army that had been decimated was but a vanguard. Zigilus had only given its master a bloody nose.


    The gates opened, and the armies of Zigilus surged back through them. As they did, Sahshir stayed in the shadow of one of the towers. He saw Grakus march through last with a slight limp. Then, as he walked through, Sahshir slipped in after him into Zigilus.


    Somewhere in this city were Garacel and the Blade of Chaos.


    Sahshir would find both. Then, he would worry about escaping.

 Chapter 58 - Thirteen: The Queen Herself

    The battle had ended, for now.


    The vanguard of Dinis had been smashed, and many of their siege equipment destroyed. Although the main army was now assembling, there wasn''t much concern on the part of Garacel. People from the surrounding area had crowded into the city streets under the watch of demons.


    But Master Garacel strode past them to the palace without any sign of concern. His hand was resting on his sword absently while Narcissa held the Sword of Chaos.


    "Are you sure you want me to present the Blade of Chaos to her, Master Garacel?" asked Narcissa, not really liking her new outfit. There were far too many ribbons and chains in it. The collar made her appear very good, but she preferred leather. So she and Alkela had been given matching outfits of this sort when they entered.


    "I could give it myself," conceded Garacel as they walked. "But Zigildrazia prefers to be gifted artifacts by beautiful women. It is her habit, and I do not intend to deny it. So you and your sister will deliver it."


    "Right," said Narcissa. "But why are we heading into the Sanctum?" Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At the gates opened before them, Garacel did not answer for long. Eventually, they came into the altar hall that stood empty. Coming to the altar, Garacel set a hand upon the book there. Then, channeling magic, he turned back to them.


    "There is a secret passage within the Sanctum of Zigildrazia," said Garacel. "Observe."


    The altar shifted and slid back into the ground, even as a secret passage emerged in the wall beyond. It was very bright, with red light illuminating a red-carpeted hallway. As she did so, Narcissa clung to the Sword of Chaos, feeling something shifting through her mind.


    She found herself tossing her hair instinctively. As if trying to look appealing to someone, and she wondered if the outfit she was wearing was good enough. She should have stuck with the leather. Why was she thinking like this?


    "Where does this lead?" asked Narcissa.


    "Into the palace of Her Radiance," said Garacel. "A place that does not wholly exist in this world. Follow me."


    Garacel led them down the passage. As they walked, the passage soon had a branching past leading into a glass hallway. On the other side of the glass were many tentacled monstrosities that clawed at the walls. They were familiar. And they were looking at them filled Narcissa''s mind with a twisted affection. One that was not her own.


    "What are those?" asked Narcissa.


    "Those are a particular breed of raishans," said Garacel. "They are called tentalus. They were created by Amysta. She used them as a means of executing young maidens and a source of entertainment."


    "She had people strangled?" asked Narcissa.


    "Worse, I''m afraid," said Garacele. "The creatures would inflict... indignities upon them. First, they would be impregnated with the creature''s young. Then, they were devoured from the inside by their own children. Their souls would then be transformed into more abominations."


    "That''s sick!" said Narcissa, feeling bile rising in her throat. But at the same time, she felt a sick amusement.


    "Amysta was a deeply unpleasant person," said Garacel. "Even for a demonic archon. I can only think of one person in the world who actually liked her. Fortenex."


    "Isn''t he that war god to the far north?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes," said Garacel. "Amysta was an utterly depraved creature that valued only a man for his battle prowess. Fortenex was a vicious, bloodthirsty raider who valued women only for their bodies. But, somewhere along the line, they fell in love.


    "Thankfully, that alliance was put down a long time ago. Her Radiance overthrew her, and she is now of no more account.


    "These are kept here to guard the Grail of Immortality. It is some ways down the passage." They walked on.


    "The Grail of Immortality," said Narcissa thoughtfully. "Mistress Zarana told me stories about how you attacked the Disciple of Baltoth. You defeated him in single combat. You nearly wiped out his order and stole the Grail from the ashes."


    "Hardly." scoffed Garacel. "I snuck in by night and stole the Grail. I then caught him while sleeping and kicked him in his skull. I then started a fire and ran for my life.


    "At the time, my spirit was a mere shadow of what it had been. Had I confronted him directly, he would have easily killed me."


    "Why did you go after the Grail, anyway?" asked Narcissa. "Why did Zigildrazia want it?"


    "To humiliate him," said Garacel. "Baltoth had done something to anger her, so she gave me leave to even the score."


    "How did you do any sneaking in that armor?" asked Narcissa.


    "I was temporarily moved to a different suit," said Garacel. "One more fragile, but easier to creep in."


    "So you can switch armors?" asked Narcissa.


    "No," said Garacel. "Her Radiance can move me to different hosts. But I cannot change without her will. That was part of my contract with her." They came to a door very suddenly in the endless hall. It was ornate, and the frame was gold, inlaid with crystals. "Ah, here we are now." He glanced at them. "She waits for you within. Or without, whatever it happens to be at the moment."


    "Thank you," said Narcissa, gulping. This was it. She hoped she pleased Her Radiance. She lived and died for her.


    "Oh, and Narcissa?" said Garacel.


    "Yes," said Narcissa.


    "Zigildrazia must not be disobeyed under any circumstances," said Garacel. "It will be worse for you if she is."


    Then he opened the door.


    Narcissa and Alkela strode through it and into what appeared to be a forge. There were thousands, no tens of thousands, of tools on the walls. Great furnaces were bellowing out blasted heat that sent their scanty clothing flowing. The heat was immense, yet the Blade of Chaos vibrated with anticipation.


    They saw no one as they walked on, drawn by some force. But they found many weapons on the walls. Some ceremonial. Others were made for war. They saw plows and axes and spears. Every weapon and device that could be made through metal was here.


    And at last, they saw her.


    Queen Zigildrazia was a forty-year-old, plain-looking woman. She had short hair a crooked nose, and wore concealing blacksmiths. She was hunched over an anvil, working metal as she did. At first, Narcissa thought she looked fully human, but then she saw seven tails in leather sheaths. They were moving about the forge, working pumping bellows, and gaining materials. But it was Zigildrazia. Narcissa had felt her essence within her, like every other person in the world. She knew her by sight.


    Her voice was dry as she approached. "Queen Zigildrazia, Master Garacel has sent-"


    Zigildrazia raised a tail for silence. "I don''t care how important this weapon you''ve brought me is; I''ll finish my craft."


    She made several more alterations. Then, bringing it around, she plunged it into a barrel of blood. The screams of the damned mixed with the sizzling as the weapon was cooled. Finally, Zigilidrazia set down the weapon and turned to her. "Not precisely what you were expecting, I suppose."


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    Narcissa nodded. "No, no, it wasn''t, my Queen."


    "Good," said Zigildrazia. "I do love to subvert expectations. But, of course, there is an art to that as well. There is a difference between an unexpected twist and a pink elephant falling out of the sky.


    "Let me see..." She looked at the weapon she had forged, testing the wait. It was a lovely shape, and the light gleamed off it. Narcissa thought she''d never seen anything so beautiful. But Zigildrazia tossed it aside into a pin. "No, no, no, this will never do.


    "Best to start anew later." She drew up another device her tails had worked on. "Still this, this has a certain quality. Perhaps I will improve this design."


    Then that, too, was tossed aside.


    "Do you want-" began Narcissa.


    "No, not yet," said Zigildrazia. "I haven''t much use for the Blade of Chaos. It''s filled with power, but it''s one of my older designs. I''m an artist, my dear. I wouldn''t say I like anything I design over five years old.


    "Now, you''re wondering, ''Is this really Queen Zigildrazia? Demonic Archon of Sloth and Lust?'' To which I must answer, ''Yes, I''m afraid so.''


    "Right now, which element would you say I am in?"


    "What?" said Narcissa.


    "Am I making use of sloth? Or lust?" asked Zigildrazia.


    Narcissa looked at Alkela in surprise. She looked as confused as Narcissa. This wasn''t at all what they''d been expecting. Narcissa thought about it. It couldn''t be sloth; Zigildrazia was covered in sweat. "...Lust, I suppose. The lust for improvement."


    "Rather a weak chain of reasoning," said Zigildrazia. "No, I am indulging in sloth."


    Narcissa bit her lip. "I don''t understand. You''re working hard. You''re covered in sweat, your clothes are filthy. I mean, I didn''t mean any offense, but-"


    "None taken. And so I am, one moment," said Zigildrazia. "It is a rather contradictory thing, isn''t it? That the Demonic Archon of Sloth should toil in a forge. But that''s only because you are looking at the surface level." Her tails snatched a farm''s plow from the shelves, and she held it before her like a newborn child. "What is this, my dear?"


    "A plow," said Narcissa.


    "Yes. A plow," said Zigildrazia. "What is it used for?"


    "To till fields. For farming," said Narcissa.


    "Could mortals farm without it?" asked Zigildrazia.


    Narcissa thought about that. "...Yes."


    "Then why go to all the effort of building such a device?" asked Zigildrazia, putting it down.


    "It makes the job easier," said Narcissa.


    "That''s exactly it!" said Zigildrazia. "Exactly! We create tools not because we like to work but because we don''t like to work. Investing our time in one thing allows us to put our minds to other matters.


    "Now, do you see?"


    "Yes," said Narcissa.


    "And yet you were not fully wrong," said Zigildrazia. "I am indulging in pursuing my own pleasure at the moment. I love to work with metal, to change its shape, and to shift it into what I desire. It fills me with passion. The only thing that compares is corrupting heroes.


    "I could lounge upon a throne all day, sipping soul wine and engaging in evil. But it would not fill me with pleasure. The drink would not satisfy after the first sip. The man or woman that writhed beneath me would only go so far.


    "It is the effort one puts into achieving something that brings pleasure." Then she reached forward with one clawed hand and drew the Blade of Chaos from its sheathe. She looked over it with admiration.


    "This sword, what do you think of it?" said Zigildrazia.


    "It''s... it''s very beautiful," said Narcissa.


    "I would hope not," said Zigildrazia. "This sword wasn''t made for beauty. It was made to reap lives. Let me show one that was meant for beauty." And she took from the walls a sword. It shone brilliantly in the light, which made Narcissa''s heart leap. This device was meant to be wielded by a Prince or some great warrior. Raise it above an army, and they will follow you to hell. "Do you think it would be useful for combat?"


    Narcissa opened her mouth to say yes, but Alkela caught her by the shoulder. Narcissa shut her mouth and looked at it. The designs were ornate, silver, and gold. The blade was bright, but the weapons got damaged in battle and needed repair. "No."


    "Why not?" asked Zigildrazia.


    "All those designs would be destroyed," said Narcissa. "Going to war with it would ruin it. Fixing it would be a complete chore."


    Zigildrazia smiled. "Precisely.


    "This is a ceremonial sword. Its purpose is to delight the one who looks at it. If you bring it into battle and use it for practical purposes, you are misusing it.


    "And yet it can still serve a purpose.


    "A beautiful object can inspire. It can change the minds and wills of those who look upon it. It was not made for the hands of the pragmatic but the hearts of those who gazed on it.


    "That is what succubi were before I became their ruler. A beautiful thing to be used only at the last need. Consorts. Devoid of the true power of their own. That is what I sought to amend."


    Then she motioned. The forge faded away, and they were standing in a great throne room. The walls seemed miles high, and from the ceiling hung diamond chandeliers. A red carpet flowed through to a great throne. Yet the throne was out of place, for it was forged of skulls and showed images of torture and death.


    Zigildrazia seated herself upon it and clasped her hands together. "I have a gift for you. For both of you." She motioned with one hand, and there was a flash. A brilliant golden ring, plain and without adornment, fell out of the air. It landed in Alkela''s hands, and she looked at it.


    "Alkela, I gift you the Ring of Ascension," said Zigildrazia. "Its magic will triple your strength and summon the full power of your blood. Yet there is a price. The more you wield this ring, the more you will take on the aspects of a demon.


    "This will grant you power. More power than before with each use. But the taste of good food will dull. Music will become no more than the plucking of wires. Common pleasures will hold no further delight for you as you transform.


    "Until you have become a succubus in human form."


    Alkela closed her hand around the ring and smiled. Zigildrazia then looked to Narcissa. Raising a hand, a great axe of pure black came into it. Images of skulls and blood were on it, and Zigildrazia hurled it through the air. It sank into the ground, and the earth shuddered and cracked as it struck.


    "And to you, Narcissa, I gift the Axe of Pursuit," said Zigildrazia. "With each strike, you will drain the life of the enemy you hit. Their essence will fill you with an ecstasy beyond words. And yet, this, too, has a price. For with each person you kill, the sensation will dull a little. And it would help if you struck down more to gain the same high.


    "Of course, if you go without killing anyone for a long time, the sensation will return.


    "Thus, if you wield this axe, you must seek ever greater sensation by reaping lives." Narcissa reached out and took hold of the axe. It was cold, and she had trouble drawing it out. As she drew it out, the cracks spread. The pillars of the throne room fell inward. It collapsed around them, leaving only a throne in eternal blackness.


    Narcissa looked up to Zigildrazia. "...Thank you, Queen Zigildrizia. But why are you giving us these?"


    "I want to see what you will do," said Zigildrazia. "And I''m instead hoping that your choice will break you. And if it does, you will have no one to blame but yourself. I will have warned you ahead of time.


    "In either case, it should be an entertaining story. The world is a play, and I like to choose actors. "Speaking of which, the next act is about to begin."


    Zigildrazia raised a hand, and the void gave way to a view above the clouds. Then they were descending, and the clouds parted. Below, Narcissa saw Zigilus and the assembling legions of Dinis. The wreckage of the airship they had left lay amidst the center of the formation. They were readying new machines for war.


    Then Zigildrazia''s tails wrapped around Narcissa and Alkela. She pulled them to her, held aloft in midair.


    "Look there, my dears," said Zigildrazia. "Our enemies assemble to destroy my subjects. Long ago, I filled the void left by Safara''s departure. I took her empire''s shattered remnants and restructured it by my will.


    "Now they seek to betray me, not to her, but to her puppet masters. Thus, the Emperor sent his legions.


    "The Emperor will learn that Zigildrazia is not easily trifled with."


    "What will you do?" asked Narcissa.


    Zigildrazia stroked her hair and then directed her gaze toward the airship. "Do you know how airships are fueled? Within them lies a direct connection to my domain in the hells. If one is destroyed, the result weakens the borders between the hells and this realm. "As it turns out, many of them have been destroyed."


    She raised a hand and clenched it. As she did, the fabric of reality seemed to rip. And out of the holes poured legions of faceless things. Creatures with groping tentacles. Snakelike monsters with the heads of bugs and scythe arms. Monsters with many heads.


    They came at the legions from all sides. But the legion responded instantly and met the creatures in battle. Soon the cries of war echoed as man and demon tore each other apart in an orgy of violence. And as the blood flowed in rivers, Zigildrazia raised the Blade of Chaos. The life force of those who died below poured from the battlefield into the Blade. Its aura grew ever stronger. Narcissa heard pleased whispers from it.


    "Dinis may slay my demons," said Zigildrazia, "but in so doing, they will only fuel the Blade of Chaos. And if they are consumed, their blood will fuel it in turn. And my subjects need only watch.


    "Now, I believe a reward is due to both of you, right?"


    Then the throne vanished, and Zigildrazia rose into the air. As an aged woman, her shell fell away like a mask, and she was revealed. A red-skinned woman of unfathomable beauty, nearly eight feet tall. Her tails widened as her body evolved to dwarf Narcissa''s and Alkela''s. Lust filled their hearts as their thoughts were driven out.


    A daze fell over Narcissa as dark clouds formed beneath them. Finally, the sisters were forced down onto the clouds, and a tangle of lust and limbs began.

 Chapter 59 - Fourteen: Infiltration

    Once he had slipped away from Garacel''s armies, Sahshir wandered Zigilus. It was a strange city with twisting passages. Whenever you scale to the top of something. There always seemed to be something looming over you from higher up. There were also many statues of nubile women on street corners. And very few statues of men, which seemed odd, given the degradation of the place. It irritated Sahshir more than he''d have expected. Here, he was in the domain of lust itself. The least they could do was practice equality in their decadence.


    The eyes of these statues seemed to gaze down on him, and his mind fell into a haze of sorts. The red runes filled his thoughts with images of a seven-tailed woman, and he had to avert his eyes. He found his hands shaking beneath them and his heart beating painfully.


    Steadying his breathing, Sahshir calmed himself. Closing his eyes, he thought of tea with Kushina and training at home. Finally, the pain became manageable, and he moved onward.


    There was something strange about all this, though, he reflected as he walked among the people. And then it dawned on him. All of them were beautiful. Everyone within Zigilus would have been sought after wherever they went. Yet it was an unearthly beauty. It disturbed rather than soothed. They also wore very little in the way of clothing. What they did wear seemed more designed to draw attention to their bodies than hide them.


    It was distracting. Why did one need such beauty?


    What disturbed him further was that he could not reach Kushina. The spell in her necklace prevented him from doing so. Kashina had always been more rational between the two of them. So what did he do now? On a guess, he''d have to think things through more. Sahshir preferred to avoid thinking things through. He preferred to act impulsively. It took more work to predict and took less work.


    "The Blade of Chaos is surely within Dinis now," he said. "Or perhaps Garacel was killed in the crash? No, too much to hope for. The city is under siege now. The legions of Dinis will attack soon.


    "That will keep the enemy occupied. But if they break through it could wreck everything. What to do?"


    He remembered what he had learned about the Blade of Chaos in his youth. It was attracted to chaos. If he spread enough discord, it would call out to him. But then, that would undermine the defense of this city.


    And what could he do? Kill people? Draw his sword and start slashing every random person around him. Because they were Zigildrazians? What part had they even played in the theft of the sword, and Garacel had not done more than take it.


    He had not killed indiscriminately.


    They were already scared, scurrying around the city into their homes. Only a few remained outside by this point. It would be evil to prey on them. And when chaos and wickedness mixed, the latter came out stronger.


    He slipped into an alley and lurked in the shadows as two guards emerged. One was young, and the other was very old. But both were handsome, with fair features. It''s the older one had a more refined look to him.


    "Why would the Empire move against Zigilus, Rakan?" asked the younger. "Her Radiance put the Emperor''s ancestors in place."


    "I used to live back in the Dinis heartlands, near the capital of Narsuf," said Rakan. "Days used to be when we practiced the rites of Zigildrazia in a huge temple. But that was twenty years ago. Then, the Emperor drove us out of the temple and into the countryside. So, set it up to serve Safara, one of Baltoth''s children.


    "I heard from my grandson that he and his fellows had to go into hiding. Couldn''t practice their rights in public anymore. And the Emperor''s men were looking for them and hanging anyone they caught.


    "This is the last move, Ansof," He sighed bitterly.


    "Well, we''ll show them what it means to fight Her Radiance," said Ansof.


    "Her Radiance has already done that," said Rakan, drawing a dagger and spinning it in one hand. "But even if we destroy this army, Dinis never gives up. The Emperor will indeed send another. The Sisterhood of Safara has its coils too tightly woven around the heartlands.


    "We''ll be overwhelmed."


    "You''re always saying the worst thing that can happen, Rakan," said Ansof, eyeing the dagger. "When will you accept that things sometimes turn out for the best. Her Radiance has always been here in Zigilus. And no mortal man will dethrone her.


    "If the Emperor is so foolish, this will be his last mistake."


    "I wonder if it will be ours, too," muttered Rakan, sheathing it. "I''m sure Her Radiance shall be triumphant, of course. But those raishans out in the field, what if they win? They may turn their attention to us next. And if they don''t, we''ll have to face Dinis, Ansof. No, we''ll all be part of Her Radiance''s harem or cast into darkness at the end of this. Mark my words."


    "Either one will be much weaker for fighting the other," said Ansof. "We may yet win. I, for one, don''t mean to die today or this year.


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    "Any news about the airships?"


    "No one rightly knows that I talked to," said Rakan. "They all just flew off except one. That one went to the palace. As for the rest, probably part of some new strategy."


    They passed him by. Sahshir decided he''d had enough of wandering the streets. Taking hold of the wall, he scaled it as quickly as possible. They were rough, ancient, and not nearly as difficult as some of those he''d been trained to scale. However, as he reached the top, a hand slipped, and he fell back.


    Then, an arm grabbed him and pulled him up.


    Nayasa hauled him to the top of the roof, and Sahshir looked at her in surprise. She was clad in a black outfit meant to fade into the night, and her dagger was at her side. With her were a dozen assassins, clad for war. Sahshir recognized Ashar among them, gazing carefully on to one side. They held a long blade whetted recently with bloody. Nayasha smiled. "It has been an eventful few days, Abdul Sahshir."


    "Nayasa," said Sahshir, not letting his surprise show. "What brought you here? And how did you get here?"


    "Orders from Master Tuor," said Nayasha. "He wished me to observe here. Now that you have entered, he asked me to run interference as for how I stowed aboard one of the airships with my best men.


    "Unlike you, we weren''t caught. And we were able to rappel down into the battlefield. Once there, we scaled up the cliffs and over the wall. The fighting was an excellent distraction. Where is your Ghost Sword?"


    Sahshir remained silent for a moment. Finally, he decided to tell the truth. "Destroyed."


    Nayasha narrowed her eyes in irritation. "Do you know how difficult those are to make?"


    "It was the only means I had to destroy the airship," said Sahshir. "Without it, that distraction never would have happened." It''s better not to say that the airship was falling anyway.


    Nayasha fixed him with her gaze for a long moment. Then she looked away. Equipment is sometimes destroyed. I''m here to help you in whatever way I can. An airship is a fair trade."


    "I don''t need your help," said Sahshir.


    "I have been ordered to give it anyway," said Nayasha. "Follow me."


    "To where?" asked Sahshir.


    "There is a place not far from here," said Nayasha, pulling her hood over her head. "It is called Zarana''s Delights. It is a place of depravity. But also information. Come quickly."


    The assassins scattered in many directions as Sahshir followed Nayasha. They raced across the rooftops, leaping across the gaps like shadows beneath a torch. For some time, they went like this until, at last, Nayasha came to a halt by the edge.


    Zarana''s Delights was a large building built into the wall of a long line of stores. Most of them were closed. However, there was a great sign that flared with violet light. Sahshir looked down on the gaudy place and noted images of naked women on the wall.


    "So that is it?" he murmured.


    "Indeed," said Nayasha. "I gather it is of some spiritual significance to those within this place. Ask for Matron Zarana at the bar. She is among our contacts. Tell her that you must speak with her as a disciple."


    "And why can you not go yourself?" asked Sahshir.


    "Master Tuor has other tasks for me," said Nayasha. "Pay for your own blunders."


    "What do you-" began Sahshir.


    But Nayasha was gone. Disappeared with her men as though she''d never been there at all. Sahshir checked around him on the roofs and streets for any sign of a fleeing ninja. No such luck.


    "How does she do that?" asked Sahshir aloud.


    Then, with a shrug, he descended to the street and walked in the front door, keeping silent and to the shadows. He found the place empty save for two beautiful women. The first was taller with blonde hair, while the other was red-haired and more curvaceous. They were clad in even less than most, sitting next to poles and speaking.


    "It''s been a barren week, hasn''t it?" asked the redhead.


    "What do you expect?" asked the blonde. "None of the merchants wanted to be here when the Legions arrived. I hope Her Radiance knows what she is doing."


    "Of course, she knows what she''s doing, Ansora," said the redhead. "We exist only to serve her. She wouldn''t destroy us unless it was more entertaining than keeping us alive.


    "And I am very entertaining."


    "I know," said Ansora. "I''ve been here six months, but I keep... I get doubts..."


    "It usually takes about a sheer for them to get drowned out," said the redhead. "The runes throughout this place will wash it all away soon enough.


    "You don''t have to worry.


    "You don''t have a last name anymore. All that you are is part of the grand play of Zigildrazia. Even if we all die, we will become part of her harem. Now chin up, customers might come in."


    Ansora looked up. "A customer has come."


    They stood up quickly and made their way over, strutting seductively as they did so. Sahshir had no interest. "Oh, I''m sorry, handsome." said the redhead. "We didn''t see you come in. Why don''t you take off that mask." He wondered how they would react if he did. Probably not well, and they would know him as an intruder.


    "Can I help you?" purred Ansora as the two circled around him.


    "I wish to speak with Matron Zarana as a disciple," said Sahshir flatly.


    Ansora and the redhead looked at each other in surprise. "... She''s... she''s not here right now." said the redhead.


    "When will she return?" asked Sahshir. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "We don''t know," said Ansora. "Maybe never. She was called up by the enforcers to answer for a crime."


    "What crime?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, two girls lived here with us," said the redhead. "Narcissa and Alkela, really nice. Probably would have made a nice career if they''d had time to grow up.


    "But then a man named Dakan appeared.


    "He threatened Zarana. He said he would find occasion for her to be arrested if she didn''t give them to him for his own entertainment. The two of them made a run for it, though."


    That matched up perfectly with what Sahshir knew of this domain. Still, he felt curious. "What happened to them?" asked Sahshir.


    "Lord Garacel found them," said the redhead. "I guess they must have told him what happened."


    "Is there any chance she''ll return," asked Sahshir.


    "Well, they might-"began the redhead.


    And then the windows exploded inward, and monsters rushed through. As their slathering mouths approached, Sahshir thought this was really not his day.

 Chapter 60 - Fifteen: Quitting the Game

    It was a different kind of throne room Narcissa was standing in now. One was simple, whereas the other was opulent, with no gold or elaborate ivory carving on the walls. There were no rugs or tapestries. But there were six white angelic statues on either side of her. They were set in two rows of three on opposite sides of the hall. Above her, Narcissa could see a vast circular image. It showed Zigildrazia at the center, enthroned.


    Around her were the other six demonic archons. Amysta was chained to her throne by a leash, blue-skinned with blades. Fortenex held his axe high and cried a war cry, armored from head to toe in black. Typhos roared, innumerable heads and limbs stretching across the sky. Then there was Coinfurth, sitting at a desk and reading papers. Last of all, Baltoth was standing apart from the others, lion-headed and clad in white robes.


    Narcissa wondered who had made it. But it didn''t really matter right now anyway. How had she gotten here? And how did she get back, once she wanted to?


    Narcissa had been returned to her battle armor. She could remember nothing of what had happened. At least not before she was pressed into the clouds. But her body was on fire with the residual lust from it. Alkela was there, silent. Garacel stood there as well. And in the throne lounged Zigildrazia, once again in her older form.


    Narcissa felt drained.


    Then the doors opened, and Zarana entered. She looked terrified, yet Narcissa enjoyed the woman''s suffering. What was wrong with her? What had happened?


    "Matron Zarana, I can''t tell you how pleased I am that you could join us," said Zigildrazia.


    Zarana fell to her knees and prostrated herself. She did not shake in terror, and Narcissa wondered why. "Queen Zigildrazia..."


    "Now I heard some fascinating, regrettable stories," said Zigildrazia. "I''m told you were going to use these fine specimens before they were of age."


    "I... I didn''t..." Zarana gasped.


    "Oh, I can already see into your mind," said Zigildrazia. "So tell me, why did you choose to betray us?"


    "I didn''t betray us!" cried Zarana. "I was told... I had no choice?"


    "And why not?" asked Zigildrazia.


    "It was Dakan," said Zarana. "Dakan, he told me... he told me that if I didn''t give him them, he''d destroy my establishment and kill me."


    "And yet you still performed the crime," noted Zigildrazia in bemusement. "Among others.


    "Hmm, I ought to devise some punishment for Dakan. But now for you," She raised a hand. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Zarana looked at Narcissa. Something was enjoying what was happening here, but it wasn''t her. Narcissa stepped forward, deciding she ought to try and help here. "Queen Zigildrazia, please don''t hurt her. She made a mistake but was always very kind to us."


    Zigildrazia sighed. "Oh, I''ll give you a reasonable fine and send you off. It would be a shame to lose such a source of information. After all, your contacts provided us with the location of the Blade of Chaos."


    Zarana arose. "Yes, thank you, Queen Zigildrazia. I assure you-"


    "The fine will be leveled now," said Zigildrazia.


    Zarana screamed as her left eye burst into flame. Yet it did not consume the flesh. Instead, it spread and soon covered Zarana''s entire body. Her clothes were burned away, and her skin began to shift. Horns grew from her head as a short tail sprouted from her back. Her body also changed, her hips and breasts taking on exaggerated dimensions.


    Her eyes were empty now. There was no fear or will behind them as they looked on Zigildrazia with adoration. A violet-skinned slave succubus.


    "This work of art seems to be among my better ones," said Zigildrazia. "Perhaps I''ll use it as a handmaiden of sorts. Do you want it, Narcissa?"


    Narcissa opened her mouth to make a flat refusal. But she found herself blushing. Not for anything she felt, but as though she were a puppet on strings. "Thank you, my Queen. You honor me. But... no." Something within her was screaming in malice. It desired to kill the thing that had once been Zarana.


    It was controlled.


    "Well then, we may consider the debt settled," said Zigildrazia.


    Narcissa wanted to rage. But she could not even feel angry at Zigildrazia. Instead, her mind was thinking about how wise and powerful she was. And how generous to give the thing which had been Zarana to her.


    Then there was the part beneath it that was screaming. But it wasn''t Narcissa. Because Zarana meant nothing to this thing. It was angry because it was controlled, not because of what that control meant. It whispered to Narcissa that it could give her the power to control herself. And to counteract the will of Zigildrazia.


    "As for Dakan..." said Zigildrazia. "Do you have anything to say about this?"


    Dakan emerged from the shadows. He did not look afraid. If nothing else, Narcissa could watch him die.


    "Yes, I made the request," said Dakan. "Is that a problem?"


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    Then Narcissa felt the rage she could not think towards Zigildrazia. Her axe was in her hand at once, which Zigildrazia had given her. She surged toward Dakan, swinging it around.


    But he brought around both hands and caught the axe by the haft.


    And then both of them separated. They had no will in it. Zigildrazia''s tails took hold of Narcissa and drew her up so they were face to face. "I shouldn''t be too quick to bring violence into this place, Narcissa. Or I may get violent with you. I''d probably enjoy that, but you wouldn''t." She set one clawed hand so it was an inch from Narcissa''s eye. Then she tossed Narcissa aside and drew herself up. "Now, I must punish Dakan to prevent repeating these events. An example must be set for the greater good.


    "Unfortunately, I don''t care.


    "Well, I''ll warn you and pretend nothing happened."


    "My-" began Dakan, a smug smile on his face.


    And then Zigildrazia surged forward and drove her right hand through Dakan''s chest, her claws piercing his coat. He gasped as she dragged out his heart, blood seeping over his green jacket. And yet, even as her hand was removed, the flesh closed behind it to leave a rapidly drying stain. He looked at its own dead heart as Zigildrazia crushed it and screamed.


    Clenching his chest, Dakan screamed in horror as blood poured out of his eyes. Then, shuddering in place, he fell to his knees, gasping. Had it regrown already? Queen Zigildrazia really was amazing, wasn''t she?


    "You may consider this it," said Zigildrazia. "Flaunt my laws again, Dakkan, and I won''t restore your heart when I pull it out next. Are we clear?"


    "Y-yes..." gasped Dakan. "Of course, your radiance. It will not happen again."


    "Good. I''m glad we had this talk," said Zigildrazia. "Now, perhaps we can move on to the next matter on the agenda. Garacel, how would you say the Blade of Chaos is progressing?"


    "The battle outside Zigilus is winding down, Your Radiance," said Garacel. "It seems that the legions of Dinis are the victor. They have taken many casualties, and the life force is being used to replace our losses. However, more reinforcements have arrived.


    "It seems the Emperor anticipated stiff resistance. Or perhaps it was the Disciple of Baltoth who anticipated as much."


    "Do you believe we''ll hold?" asked Zigildrazia.


    "I can promise you to take this city will be the end of many legions," said Garacel. "Certainly, we will meet our quota. However, Tuor will soon come to reclaim the sword. He may succeed."


    "And that would leave the Emperor weaker. It would force him to rely on my dear brother Baltoth," noted Zigildrazia. "My, this is a poser. What of your strategy?"


    "As we speak," said Garacel, "the most valuable of the citizens of Zigilus have been evacuated. Artisans, craftsmen, powerful warriors. Though some have refused the summons."


    "How nice of them," said Zigildrazia. "Very well, then. Open the portals."


    "Portals?" said Narcissa. "What portals?"


    "The portals I have been prepared to open for when Zigilus was lost," said Zigildrazia. She leaned back in her throne and stretched out her arms and tails. "Well, this Zigilus anyway. It was a new idea. I have been breeding this city and its inhabitants for my own purposes. They are infused with my will from birth and yet possess choices of their own.


    "They are universally beautiful. And yet they have no conception of any beauty save mine. The population has reached a stage where they are what I want from all my subjects. But, unfortunately, all too soon, they will... degenerate.


    "That''s what happened to the first Zigilus. A city of pleasure and beauty, loyal, no, revolving around me. But when it reached its zenith, it began to decay. It fell victim to the vices it used and became little more than a brothel.


    "No, best to cut things off here. Those worthy will become demons in my service. Those unworthy will be reincarnated in the bloodlines of the survivors. And the orgy of bloodshed will undoubtedly fill our quota for the Blade of Chaos. All without having to worry about destroying the Emperor."


    "But..." Narcissa felt resistance herself. "What about the people?"


    "Oh, they''ll all die," said Zigildrazia. "I wouldn''t worry. Mortal life is worthless. It''s the work you put in that gives an existence value. Most people die dozens of times before going to one afterlife or another. Some hundreds.


    "It''s more a momentary inconvenience than a true problem."


    "Why can''t we just kill the legion?" asked Narcissa.


    "Dear, didn''t you listen?" asked Zigildrazia. "I should go into greater depth. Very well. The Emperor is selling out to Baltoth. However, I already have plans to supplant him with a new emperor who is favorable to me.


    "Unfortunately, if we force a protracted siege, it could be years before it ends. No doubt, rebellions would crop up in the provinces and weaken the empire we were taking control of. Much better to get the whole thing over with."


    "But that''s horrible!" said Narcissa.


    "Have you ever been in a city under siege?" asked Garacel flatly.


    "No," said Narcissa.


    "It starts out unpleasant," said Garacel in bitterness. "Food is short. Arrows fly over the walls. Flaming stones land in buildings. Then things get bad. Food gets ever scarcer. People eat dogs. Leather. Then each other. Plagues break out with everyone in such close quarters.


    "It''s an immensely nasty process. And chances are, at the end, everyone here would be killed by the enraged legions."


    "Frankly, we''re doing everyone here a favor by cutting the endless misery. We''re giving them a swift death," said Zigildrazia. "They''ll thank us in the next life."


    "But... but you''ll be killing them," said Narcissa. Zigildrazia could not be wrong. Yet Narcissa felt like she was. What was this?


    Zigildrazia sighed and moved a hand through the air dismissively. "Oh, very well. We could have some fun with this. I''ll open one or two portals and gradually scale things up. You and Alkela can spend that time defending the innocent and fighting demons.


    "It should be an amusing diversion. Have fun."


    "This seems like a complete waste of resources, Your Radiance," said Garacel.


    "I know, isn''t it?" asked Zigildrazia with a smile.


    "This is wrong," realized Narcissa. "You are wrong."


    Zigildrazia laughed and clasped taloned fingers together while crossing one perfect leg over another. She was so beautiful. "My dear, I am the hardworking and homely manifestation of lust and sloth. Which of those qualities makes me a good person?


    "I''ll unleash the portals over Zarana''s establishment in ten minutes."


    There wasn''t anything else to say. Narcissa raised her hammer and looked at her sister. "Come on, Alkela."


    They ran through the portal.


    "Have fun playing hero, my dears!" called Zigildrazia as they rushed out the door.


    Narcissa was really starting to hate this.


    Then, the voice within her reminded her that she had nearly forgotten Zarana. The woman who raised her and Narcissa had barely remembered her moments after her death. What was this? Narcissa had always been this way. It was how things were supposed to be. So why did it feel wrong?


    It did not matter.


    Narcissa had demons to slay.

 Chapter 61 - Sixteen: Possession

    Narcissa and Alkela were racing through the streets. The fact that they looked good doing it didn''t help for once. No amount of leather or cleavage could make up for what was about to happen. And no one was around to appreciate them anyway. As they did, they saw the portal opening. Reality seemed to peel back, and many spheres of light came out. As they crossed the threshold, the lights transformed into flying beasts. They had the wings of bats, the claws of lizards, and the heads of vultures. And their features were all black with red eyes. They swooped down into the street, and Narcissa saw them begin tearing at the windows.


    Narcissa hurled her axe, spinning through the air before she could think. It cleaved through the creature and returned to her hand. As Narcissa caught it, she felt a rush of exhilaration. It felt good to kill this thing.


    Then, the others came swarming toward her. But Narcissa seemed to move off her own accord. She felt herself wielding her axe like one possessed. She was performing the moves she had been taught with absolute ease. And with each stroke, she felt power surge through her veins. Vaguely, she was aware of Alkela darting back and forth, crushing enemies with her fists. Sis seemed to enjoy herself, but there was always more to kill.


    Strange snakelike beasts were landing in the streets. They had the heads of beetles and scythed arms that rent flesh. The city guard was fighting with them, but their movements seemed slow. The will of Zigildrazia had left them. She desired their defeat.


    Screams sounded throughout the city. Among them were the cries of children.


    "What is going on here?" thought Narcissa as she cleaved down. "Why is she doing this?" She knew why.


    It was some combination of flippancy, spite, and a lack of real caring. Zigilus meant nothing to her. So she had condemned it the moment it had become inconvenient. But... Zigildrazia couldn''t be so petty, could she?


    The sensation of death filling Narcissa''s body drowned out her doubts. She fought harder, forcing herself to move. Forcing herself to kill one of the snakes as it tried to consume a guardsman.


    "Stand up!" she yelled as she hacked down two more. "Stand up and fight! Don''t let them kill you!"


    It wasn''t inspiring. And Narcissa felt something bite into her shoulder. One of the vultures had stabbed her and was bearing her down. But Alkela was on it and pulled it back, snapping its neck. Even as it fell back, Narcissa found energy coursing through her flesh. It healed before her eyes, and she rose to fight again.


    So the fighting went on.


    Fires began in several parts of the city. The raishans rushed to attack those who tried to put them out, and it was all they could do to hold the line. Eventually, they found themselves in front of Zarana''s Delights.


    Dozens of raishan corpses lay around the entrance. The windows had been smashed in. Within, Narcissa could see furniture crushed and broken. Narcissa stared. Part of her was laughing. These people who had tried to take advantage of her were now consumed. It was hilarious. But Alkela rushed on through with a fearful expression.


    Narcissa ran after her. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    They entered the main room and found tables and chairs upset and smashed around them. The drinks on the bar were shattered, and broken glass lines on the floor.


    But there were no corpses?


    Then, two familiar faces looked up from the bar. "Narcissa, Alkela, is that you?"


    Narcissa flinched. "Sera? Ansora? What''s going on here?"


    "Raishans started coming from nowhere," said Sera. "They would have killed us if it wasn''t for that customer."


    "Customer?" asked Narcissa. "Who?"


    "He didn''t say his name," said Sera. "But he wore a mask, and the flesh around his eyes was mottled. So he couldn''t have been from Zigilus."


    "He wielded a katana and held himself like a soldier," said Ansora. "When the raishans came, he killed them. Then he went out and started hunting them.


    "But-"


    And then there was a feral snarling. Narcissa turned to see a massive wolf with antlers rushing through and leaping at her. Spinning around her axe, she brought it down to cleave the creature''s skull with one blow. The force nearly jarred the weapon from her hands, but it was done.


    More of them.


    "Stay hidden," said Narcissa. "Get together your things and get your families and anyone else you can! Then, head for the Sanctum of Zigildrazia and ask for Illaryus. Tell him Narcissa sent you."


    "But Matron Zarana-" said Sera.


    "She''s dead," lied Narcissa. "Zigildrazia killed her and said the debt was settled. That bastard Dakan got off with a slap on the wrist. This entire city is going to be consumed soon.


    "But you''ve got to get out of here with anyone who will follow you."


    "But we belong to Zigildrazia," said Sera.


    Narcissa felt a surge of contempt for this empty-eyed creature. She should kill her where she stood. But, no, no, she''d known Sera for years. "She wants you to get out. Believe me, she wants you to get out. Now go quickly.


    "Alkela and I will deal with the raishans."


    Then they rushed out into the streets and found more raishans waiting. They ran to fight them. As they did, Narcissa began to fade. She felt less and less herself and more like someone else. Blood spilled over her as she hacked and slashed. Her flesh was torn, only to recover. And Narcissa felt joy at how these lesser creatures had their skulls and limbs crushed. Happiness at the bodies around her, raishan and mortal alike.


    Joy at the deaths. Joy at the killing. At the suffering that was happening. If only some children would scream in the background. That would make this perfect. If only she were killing her sisters'' slaves instead of protecting them...


    Then, these thoughts began to fade. Narcissa became aware that she was no longer with Alkela. Instead, she was fighting alongside a familiar figure clad all in black. He wielded the Sword of Order to carve down one raishan after another. She did so with a speed and intensity Narcissa could not match. He was the faster, but she kept him at a distance. When he ducked past a stroke of her axe, she vaulted over him, using it as a pole. Landing, she spun around and went for his neck. Yet he ducked under it and spun around to slash at her again.


    Backing away, she warded off several strikes and spun her axe to a defensive position.


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    What was she doing?


    There was no bloodlust in his strikes. But he might be of use.


    There came an end to the combat. The street had gone dead and silent. Narcissa turned to him, leaning on her axe while putting out one hip. "So, I''m guessing you''re the mysterious patron my friends talked about. You''re halfway decent at all this.


    "So, who exactly are you supposed to be?"


    The man halted and did not even look at anything other than her face. He merely sheathed his sword in a smooth movement. "I am Abdul Sahshir. I''m looking for someone."


    "A lot of people are looking for someone," said Narcissa. "Sometimes, they even find them. But they only sometimes like what happens once they do.


    "So, handsome, who are you looking for?" She put forth her will to try and grasp his as she had Narcissa''s. As she did, she leaned forward to show off her breasts to absolutely no effect.


    She got his attention, at least. "...Garacel."


    "Oh, him," said Narcissa. "Well, you''ll definitely regret finding him. The man can''t be killed." Her memory turned to her training in better days.


    "You don''t seem stable," said Sahshir.


    "Maybe I''m not," said Narcissa, smiling. "Either way, if you want to avenge yourself on Garacel, you should head for the Sanctum of Zigildrazia. After all, it worked out so well for you last time."


    "Who are you?" asked Sahshir.


    "I don''t blame you for not recognizing me," said Narcissa. "Last time, I was wearing something a lot less comfortable."


    Alkela landed next to her. Sahshir set a hand to his blade. Then, the portal above widened, and the monsters poured in ever greater numbers.


    The battle began anew, and Narcissa rushed to it in glee. She hewed down one enemy after another, carving through them like a hot scythe through wheat. Finally, none could stand before her. "Yes!" she screamed as she hacked her way through several. "Die! Die all of you!"


    Such was the carnage she spread that the raishans were drawn to her like moths to a flame. And they were consumed just as quickly. Sahshir had left on his own at some point, so the sisters fought alone. Every wave was cut down with ease. Narcissa felt as though she was merely an extension of something greater.


    And extension that was growing in power. She''ll kill all these raishans, the legions, and these miserable mortals. They''d all die!


    Then Alkela slapped her.


    Clarity returned. As she finished another wave, she fell to one knee. Her body was thrumming with pleasure. And yet she was not exhausted. She looked at the axe she had been wielding and saw it glowing red. She tried to throw it away, but it would not leave her hand. She stepped back. "I''ve got to get rid of this axe."


    She noticed Alkela above donning the ring. Narcissa quickly caught her hand. "No, don''t.


    "We can''t use these, Alkela. They''ll get in our heads, drive us insane." She looked around. The flames were being contained, and the fighting had moved from this section of the city. "I''m going to go get my old axe back. Hold down the fort, and don''t put that ring on no matter what happens." Why would this be affecting her? "I need to check something."


    On the way, Narcissa passed many bodies. Wherever she walked, corpses could be seen. But the buildings were empty; doors and windows were hanging open. Occasionally, she found guards standing among the smoldering wreckage.


    And in the distance, Narcissa saw that the Sanctum was teeming with people who had fled into it. Raishans were clustering around the gates but dared not pass the threshold. Finally, Illaryus emerged from the crowds, limping forward.


    Setting a hand to his scimitar, he brought it out and slashed.


    There seemed to be a wave, and the creatures fled before him. Narcissa moved to meet him, and he smiled. "Narcissa, you have returned. How may we help you?"


    "I need to get my axe back," said Narcissa. "I left it here. And I need your help with something. Something... something is happening to me."


    Illaryus remained silent for a moment. "Well, we''d best go to the library, then."


    They had to go through many terrified people to get to the library. The priests tended to the wounded as best they could, inspiring regeneration. Narcissa saw a child reunited with her mother.


    She wondered how all this fit into being Zigildrazia''s tool. She asked if she wanted it to. Why was she paying heed to these worms? They were beneath her!


    Narcissa remained silent as they entered the library. Here, in this place, there were hundreds upon hundreds of books available for reading. Some were forbidden for any save the priests. Others were available to the public.


    "Now, my dear girl, you''ve had some trouble, haven''t you?" said Illaryus.


    "Yes, I..." Narcissa paused, hesitating to speak. "I''ve found that something is surfacing inside me, and when it does... I want to hurt people. I feel like I may lose myself in it."


    "Well, that is a risk to our profession," said Illaryus. "We are extensions of the will of Zigildrazia. By becoming such, we gain powers and abilities that would take years to master otherwise.


    "But, we are attuned to her will."


    "It isn''t that, though," said Narcissa. "I feel like... like there is something else growing inside me. A different person."


    Illaryus frowned. "Ah. In that case, we''d best consult the bloodline records." He went over to a shelf, scaled quickly up a ladder, and took out a book. Sliding down, he set it on a table and opened it. "Now, your father was Esmond, was he not?"


    "Yes," said Narcissa.


    "And your mother?" asked Illaryus.


    "Areya," said Narcissa.


    Illaryus sorted through the bloodlines little by little. His eyes glazed over as his fingers went from one to another. "Did they have family names?"


    Narcissa felt like something was looking through her as much as the book. "No. They were native to Zigilus."


    "Ah, of course," said Illaryus. "Family names are uncommon among the lower orders, I''m told. I never had one myself."


    "Why is that?" asked Narcissa before realizing she''d asked a stupid question. "I mean, why do other people have family names?"


    "Family names provide a sense of identity beyond who you are," said Illaryus. "I gather they are used for legal matters. However, we are all, at our base nature, extensions of Zigildrazia. So we have no need for them.


    "Besides, it is Her Radiance''s will that citizens remove them. One moment." He came to some names. "Hmm, very interesting."


    "What is it?" asked Narcissa.


    "You are descended from Her Raidance, but the line is not as strong as we thought," said Illaryus.


    "What do you mean?" asked Narcissa.


    "Your ancestors were born from one of Amysta''s daughters on one side. The other was from Zigildrazia''s grandsons," said Illaryus. "Thus, Amysta''s blood is stronger in you."


    "But Amysta is dead," said Narcissa.


    "True," conceded Illaryus. "But her essence was absorbed into Zigildrazia, even if her spirit is gone. Thus, in a sense, you are descended from Her Radiance through two sources."


    "What do you mean ''her spirit is gone?''" Narcissa asked. "You taught me that killing a soul is impossible."


    "It is," said Illaryus. "Or so we believe, at any rate. Impossible and possibly vary by age. But after Amysta realized she was doomed, she performed a ritual. We do not know the exact details, but somehow, she divided her spirit and sent it away. It is similar to what was done with the Demon King Diabolus long ago.


    "We have never found the pieces, despite our best efforts."


    Narcissa remained silent. King Diabolus was a figure in every mythology she''d read about. Yet very little was available to her on him. "What does this have to do with me?"


    "Quite a bit, potentially," said Illaryus. "There are many theories. Some say that she found some means to obliterate herself. Others that she exists in the subconscious of Her Radiance.


    "However, I believe she imparted her spirit to some of her descendants. Perhaps as part of some plan to engineer her resurrection.


    "If she did so, and her will were to return to power, over time, she could consume the spirit of whoever she inhabited."


    "You knew about this before, didn''t you?" asked Narcissa.


    "Forgive this old man his parlor tricks, will you?" asked Illaryus. "But I have done my research. I didn''t think it was relevant until now.


    "Whatever our bloodlines, we all serve Her Radiance.


    "Is there anything else I can help you with?"


    Amysta was within her. Narcissa could feel her now, rising up to take on dominance over her spirit. In an instant, she found herself someone else. "No, nothing right now.


    "Thank you. You''ve been of immense help to me, priest."


    "You know my name, Narcissa," said Illaryus.


    "Of course," said Narcissa. "Sorry, Illaryus, I''ve gone through a revelation."


    Then there was nothing.

 Chapter 62 - Seventeen: Manifestation

    Sahshir had been fighting for hours.


    Sweat dripped down his whole form as he fell to a kneel by a statue of Zigildrazia. His entire body ached with the pain of exertion. Around him were many dead monsters, and on his body were many more minor cuts, made worse by the numbing. However, this area was clear for now.


    And yet he could see yet more creatures descending to aid them. On and on, the horrors came in a neverending tide, and for all his efforts, he could not stem it. It was a depressing reality that he had no intention of letting interfere with his actions.


    Nayasha landed by him as he bandaged himself, crouching low with a blade spinning in her hand. Rising up, she approached quickly, and her expression had only a slight tinge of relief. Sahshir wondered if she ever showed emotion. "Sahshir, you''re still alive."


    "For the moment," said Sahshir, examining one gloved hand. "These creatures come without end."


    "They are not really dying, for the most part," said Nayasha, technical as always. "When slain, their spirits merely return to the hells to be reformed. Only divine power, such as the Sword of Order, can permanently destroy them.


    "And they have grown in number.


    "What you are doing is hopeless, Sahshir. Even if you were to eradicate all the raishans, the legions would only burn the place."


    "I know," said Sahshir, deciding on a change of strategy. Most of the people were off the streets anyway by now. "I must go to the Sanctum of Zigildrazia."


    "The Sanctum of Zigildrazia?" asked Nayasha. "To what end?"


    "That is where I will find Garacel," said Sahshir.


    "Killing Garacel is just as hopeless," said Nayasha. "Our priority should be to retrieve the Blade of Chaos."


    "I will do so over his corpse," said Sahshir. Or, more likely, die. But his disease would claim him in a few years anyway, so there was no loss.


    "If you try to kill Garacel as you are now, you will die," said Nayasha. "You will be killed, and you will die for nothing.


    "We must use caution." She drew out a flask. "Now drink this. It should help with your injuries." Sahshir unstoppered it and drank deeply. The taste was sweet, oddly enough. He still felt bone-weary, but the pain of his cuts disappeared. Instead, warmth filled his limbs, and he forgot his agony.


    "Very well, then. What do you suggest?"


    "I am going to open the gates for the legions of Dinis," said Nayasha, glancing toward the distant walls. "I have already made arrangements with them."


    "Will that help?" asked Sahshir. He was honestly curious about what the agenda was here.


    "They came prepared to fight raishans," said Nayasha. "With luck, they will be able to purge them. And they may not kill everyone in the city." Truly, Nayasha was aiming for the stars in her plans.


    "Why is this happening?" asked Sahshir, liking this less and less.


    "The Blade of Chaos has broken the borders between dimensions," said Nayasha. "Zigilus is going to be destroyed."


    "Unless I retrieve it," said Sahshir. "Not all within this place are evil. I won''t let them die for Garacel''s actions."


    He pulled himself up and sheathed his blade. Nayasha looked at him hard for a moment. Then, finally, she sighed and scaled up the building without a word. She disappeared into the night.


    Sahshir made his way through the devastated streets, observing the broken stalls. There were bodies here or there and broken windows. As he walked, he drew the Sword of Order and gazed at his reflection. The flesh around his eyes showed the edge of his face. Why was he thinking of his hideousness now?


    Perhaps it was the city around him. Every person here was beautiful. But they all died the same. So likewise, whether he triumphed or was laid into the cold earth, his fate would be the same. All things died, and most things died gruesomely. So, to die defending innocent people seemed far from the worst way to pass from this world.


    "So, whose bloodline do you belong to anyway?" asked a voice. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sahshir glanced up to see Narcissa, that woman from before. However, there was something different about her. She was leaning against a wall, her axe in hand. Why did Zigildrazia cloth her people in such absurd outfits anyway? "You''re far too good at this to be mortal."


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    "I am a Prince of Kalthak," said Sahshir. "I serve Baltoth, the Inexorable Lord of Order."


    "That''s evading the question," said the woman. "You can talk about how training and hard work are the keys to success. But they are just a means to unlock the power you already have. All things that exist have an innate nature that cannot be defied.


    "We all have a set potential. The only thing we control is whether we live up to it."


    "Who are you?" asked Sahshir.


    "I told you my name once before," said Narcissa. "Though I''m not sure even I belong to it. Names are just another kind of mask, you see. They can''t really encompass who we are.


    "I have some information for you. Within the Sanctum of Zigildrazia, a path leads into her domain. Within that place, there are many treasures. Have you heard of the Grail of Immortality?"


    "I have," said Sahshir.


    "Well, I desire it," said Narcissa. "Get me it, and I will lead you directly to Garacel. For I know Zigildrazia''s palace well."


    "Why do you want it?" asked Sahshir.


    "When someone drinks from the Grail, their consciousness manifests again. They appear in later lives. No matter how often they are killed, they will return," said Narcissa. "I desire that immortality for my own ends."


    Sahshir remained silent. "You are different from before."


    "Of course," said Narcissa. "More of myself has manifested. The identity of this body is but a small part of my full self. I want you to take me with you when you leave this place."


    "Why?" asked Sahshir.


    "I doubt that Zigildrazia will take kindly to what I''ve revealed here today," said Narcissa.


    Sahshir remained silent for a long moment. It was the only option he had. "...So be it. Show me the way."


    "I''m glad we have an understanding," said Narcissa.


    Then, she drew a black cloak and threw it to him as if from nowhere. He caught it in one hand and raised an eyebrow. "A cloak?"


    "Yes," said Narcissa. "All of the monks wear these."


    "Is it not a sanctum of lust?" asked Sahshir, surprised.


    "Those who serve Zigildrazia are expected to limit their consumption," said Narcissa. "Zigildrazia teaches us that pleasure is best when one must work to get it.


    "She is a sea of contradictions. Now come."


    Sahshir donned the robe, and they walked.


    Soon, they came to the Sanctum and found the gates unbarred. Making their way into the area, they found that people were filing into a passage. It had opened where the altar should be.


    "This is the main sanctum," said Narcissa. "Even as we speak, Zigildrazia''s priests are evacuating the population from the city. Or some of it, at any rate."


    "To what end?" asked Sahshir.


    "To rebuild it when the time comes," said Narcissa. "They won''t even blame her when this is over. These animals regard themselves as no more than cogs in a machine. They identify as lambs to the slaughter."


    They descended into the passage and found no one around. They walked down drab halls with many twists and turns. Sahshir kept his hand near his sword as they walked. Soon, they came to many statues of men and women with agonized expressions on their faces. They had terrible wounds and seemed to be squirming in pain.


    "Who are these?" he asked.


    "Those statues watch all who walk within this place," said Narcissa. "Fortunately, I created them and have the means to blind them."


    "You?" asked Sahshir, now convinced she was possessed.


    "Narcissa is no older than you are," said the woman. "For my part, I am far older and grander. Come, this is the way.


    "There is an ancient passage beneath this Sanctum. One that once belonged to me. That will lead us to the Grail of Immortality.


    "Here we go."


    Sahshir stopped. He had been far too trusting so far. "Who are you?"


    "I am Amysta." said the woman. "Sister to your god and Zigildrazia. The blood of my descendants calls out for my return. And it shall be satiated."


    "Amysta? You died many ages ago," noted Sahshir.


    "Yes. I did," said Amysta. "Zigildrazia betrayed me. She drove me to act against her and turned my subordinate, Melchious, against me."


    Sahshir felt a chill at the name of Melchious. "I have heard of Melchious. The Demon of Cruelty has no place in Calisha."


    "Yes, he mostly concerns himself with the west," said Amysta. "With blood and death. He never had much ambition. But he had just enough stupid malice to play to Zigildrazia''s tune."


    "And what do you intend to do once you have the Grail of Immortality?" asked Sahshir.


    "Drink from it, of course," said Amysta. "Once I have done so, my spirit shall be bound within the world''s confines. None will be able to banish me or cast me out.


    "From there, I will be able to plan the downfall of all my enemies. They will not be able to seal me or permanently destroy me."


    "And what will happen to the girl, Narcissa?" asked Sahshir.


    "Does it truly matter?" asked Amysta. "My spirit has been growing within her for some years. She has almost no will, so taking control was a simple matter. Still, I rather enjoy this body.


    "It has an appealing decadence from my blood, yet there is an innocence I would relish destroying."


    "You are of the old kind of demon," realized Sahshir.


    Amysta glanced up in surprise as they approached a glass corridor. Darkness was on the other side. "Old kind?"


    "Baltoth teaches us that in ancient times, demons were ruled by Diabolus. The King of Demons," said Sahshir. "From him came the Seven Demonic Archons. And yet, through his firstborn, Baltoth was the supreme deity made manifest. Baltoth engineered his overthrow and took his place as supreme Lord of Order.


    "His teachings led to demons becoming a great power in their own right. Yet some still cling to the old ways, of destruction and sin for its own sake."


    Amysta laughed. "Baltoth always did enjoy rewriting history. The overthrow of Diabolus was my design, as were all things. The others merely believed themselves in charge. Had I not been surrounded by fools and traitors, I should have conquered this universe long ago."


    "Of course," said Sahshir. Her arrogance made him believe otherwise.


    "Do you doubt me?" asked Amysta, eyes flashing.


    "Of course," said Sahshir flatly.


    Amysta halted by the glass corridor. "No matter. What you believe does not matter. The Grail of Immortality lies beyond.


    "But be warned. Do not drink from it unless you wish to be changed forever.


    "To be bound to the world means you can never go to any afterlife. The weak-minded often falter. And you seem to me a weakminded sort."


    "I will take the grail in the name of Baltoth," said Sahshir. "And I shall drink of it only by his will, for my purpose is to serve in his machinations."


    "In that case, my judgment of you was correct," said Amysta.


    "Why do you need me?" asked Sahshir.


    Amysta shrugged. "I will need allies to reclaim my glory. He will owe me a favor if I provide Baltoth with the Grail of Immortality. Thus, I can gain his help in my plans.


    "That," She tapped one high-heeled foot against the glass. "And the Grail is not undefended."


    The glass shattered, and out of it came monstrous things with many tentacles. They screeched, and their voice was like the screams of tortured maidens.

 Chapter 63 - Eighteen: Order and Chaos

    The beasts surged at them, shrieking.


    Sahshir stepped aside from the lunging tentacles and removed his blade to cut them down. Amysta drew out her axe and cleaved one in half as he did. Yet the two body pieces merely separated and continued clambering toward them. Sahshir slashed through one with the Sword of Order, and it screamed. As it did, the body bubbled and fell into nothingness.


    The creatures withdrew for a time, but Sahshir found the hallway had changed. It was now a place of ancient stone and clinging slime. "What are these creatures?"


    "A particular creation of mine," said Amysta as she walked on, axe propped over one shoulder. "I formed them from fusing the souls of hundreds of rapists into a single tormented mass. They are in constant agony as their souls tear at each other. Their only escape from that is to find more prey. So I found great entertainment feeding young maidens to them.


    "My sister called it wasteful. But seeing those maidens broken and gradually merged into the beasts was no waste. Their spirits gradually twisted into mere extensions of the monster''s will."


    Amysta was a monster, even among the worst demons. That much was clear. Sahshir thought of human bodies being warped and twisted and felt bile in his throat. No wonder she had been overthrown.


    As they walked through the halls, the creatures would come at them. Every so often, they''d have to stop to fight them off. And there were always more where they came from.


    "How is it that these creatures reform when you slay them?" asked Sahshir.


    Amysta smiled proudly. "Most raishans are only formed from one soul, at most. Either that or they are automatons created from lifeforce. But my tentalus are made by forcing souls to occupy the same place.


    "Even if you kill one, the other souls can seize control of the broken body parts and use them against you. Quite brilliant if I do say so myself."


    "With such talent, I wonder why Melchious turned on you?" noted Sahshir with sarcasm.


    "He was always far too softhearted for his own good," snapped Amysta. "Always limiting himself to breaking bodies and spirits. He never had the stomach for torments, though he could have been the best if he had."


    Sahshir had been considering things. This monster needed to be stopped. He doubted Baltoth would have any use for her. And to let her maintain a permanent presence in the world was unthinkable. But if he were to kill her here, he would not be able to find Garacel. Then again, Garacel would probably kill him in the first place.


    He should just steal the Grail of Immortality and cut his losses. That alone would be a significant achievement and would provide some moderate revenge. He also might survive stealing it.


    With that decided, they came into a large round chamber. Stained glass windows surrounded it, showing beautiful images of gods and demons. There were thousands upon thousands of pictures in every shape and size. How many stories were told here?


    This was an actual work of art. The tales of all the races stretched out around him. They all lead toward a singular destination. It stood there, upon an altar, the culmination of all stories. Finally, the Grail of Immortality was resting on a stone hand. It was a dull brown cup, like that a carpenter might drink from. Amysta walked forward and reached for it.


    Sahshir prepared to strike. He would cut her head from her shoulders as soon as she had her hands on the cup, not her weapon. After that, it would be a mercy to her host and justice for her. But as Amysta touched the Grail, her hand passed through it.


    A light began to emanate from it, and that light spread to her fingers. Amysta raised her hand as it became translucent, pouring through her. Then, letting out a scream, she fell backward and hit the ground with a thud.


    What had happened here?


    Amysta rose, but her posture was different, submissive instead of proud. She looked at Sahshir without recognition. Somehow, the Grail has driven Amysta from Narcissa''s spirit. There was no need to kill her now.


    "You..." began Narcissa.


    She grasped for her axe, but Sahshir knocked it aside before bringing up his sword and setting it to her throat. "When they find you, say you fell defending the Grail."


    Then he dealt her a precision strike to the neck, sending her unconscious. She slumped to the ground, and Sahshir stepped over her. Reaching out, he took hold of the Grail and was filled with an unworldly power. It surged through him ultimately, and he felt a sensation in parts of his skin that had gone numb years ago.


    He raised the cup and wondered why he was seeking the Grail?


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    It was for the glory of Baltoth.


    But why did he seek that?


    The answer was obvious. He existed to serve Baltoth like all others within Calisha. His whole life was dedicated to his service and the service of Order.


    But what if the two were at odds? What if Baltoth became a source of chaos?


    The answer was clear. Then Sahshir would serve Baltoth. For he was Inexorable, and Sahshir had sworn himself to his service.


    The Grail seemed to search through him. Finally, it relented, and he took it from the altar. At last, it was him, warmly held in one hand.


    Now it was time to get out.


    Sheathing his sword, he picked up Narcissa and slung her over one shoulder. If he left her here, the tentalus would devour her, and he didn''t like the idea of feeding the beasts. Picking up her axe, he brought her through the halls. Yet they were different now. The slime was gone, and he saw all manner of strange images.


    When he reached the crossroads he had come to with Amysta, he kneeled and set Narcissa down. Then, drawing his sword again, he went up the stairs and back into the altar hall. And he found an older man waiting for him. In his hand was a katana of his own, and though he was bent with age, he took a stance as soon as Sahshir saw him. "Hold where you are, thief!"


    "So, one more fool," said Sahshir. "That fool Narcissa could not halt me. And you imagine you can. No matter."


    "Narcissa?" said the old man. "You will pay for harming that girl!"


    Then he surged forward. They passed each other, but neither of their blades found their mark. Turning around, Sahshir found himself driven back across the altar hall.


    Sahshir halted his retreat and locked blades with the older man. He saw the priest smiling wildly. And he could not overpower his guard. "You are a skilled old man."


    "And you are spry for a leper." said the old man. "I was a Battleluster for years. Do you think I lived to old age by mending flesh?" Then, with a mighty shove, Sahshir was sent stumbling back. But he let himself fall and somersaulted backward, setting the Grail on the ground as he did so.


    As the old man pursued, Sahshir rolled aside from him and brought his sword at his neck. But the blade did not find its mark, and he was forced on the defensive again. Finally, they halted a few feet away from each other.


    "I can see it is not so," said Sahshir. "But old age consumes all. For in the words of Baltoth, Time is the ultimate adversary. It will overtake you."


    "Not today," said the old man.


    Their blades met for a moment, and then they passed each other. For a moment, they were still. Then, the old man''s sword broke in twain from a clean cut. He fell to one knee, breathing heavily. And then, through the door, came another figure. She was identical to Narcissa but with shorter hair. She surged at Sahshir with a mace, and he ducked and weaved beneath her onslaught. Then, ducking around one of the pillars near the edge of the room, he flinched as the pillar shattered.


    The girl surged toward him, and he barely halted her mace with the Sword of Order. "You resemble that girl. A relation," guessed Sahshir. "No matter."


    Catching her wrist, he slammed an elbow into her and knocked the mace from her hands. She recovered and put on a ring even as she fell back. From there, she took a stance with her bare hands.


    Sahshir scoffed. "You would fight me barehanded? Then you are-" He was punched in the chest and sent flying backward. He barely adjusted himself to spin around the pillar instead of smashing into it. Then, landing, he slashed at the charging woman. She leaped over it and brought a double-handed smash toward him.


    Sahshir spun away and yielded ground. "-significantly more dangerous than I judged."


    "I see you have learned much under Lord Garacel, Alkela," said the old man. "Hold him at bay. I must see to your sister."


    Sahshir could still win this. He was faster. If he kept on the defensive, sooner or later, she would tire. Then-


    Alkela broke a pillar in half and threw it at him like a javelin. Time to leave.


    Sahshir ran for it, hardly ducking in time to avoid being crushed. Then, sprinting to the doors, he threw them open and fled into the empty streets. At least he had the Grail of Immortality now.


    And then raishans appeared. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Lots of raishans.


    With only one hand, he found himself barely able to survive. The twisted creatures pressed him from all sides. Then kunai flew from above and impaled them. Nayasha and her assassins descended, hacking through them.


    "You have been busy," said Nayasha.


    "I have the Grail of Immortality," said Sahshir.


    "Good," said Nayasha. "I''ve opened the gates. Even as we speak, the legions of Dinis are about to enter the city. We''d best get off the streets before they enter.


    "I am pleased to hear that you learned at least something in my teachings."


    As they reached the roof, horn calls sounded, and fighting was heard. The raishans coursing through the streets turned their attention to the walls. Above the mountain loomed a many-headed shadow that feasted on the life force of all who died.


    Minutes passed, and Sahshir saw the shadow growing. It fed on the energy of every life ended here. Finally, he could see the heads gaining more form.


    Monsters were now streaming through the streets. People were fleeing from their houses to the temple in desperation to escape. The Legions of Dinis were also in the streets, fighting with them.


    Any found by the legions were killed at once. Any found by the raishans were devoured. The defenders of the city were scarcely able to hold back the tide. And Sahshir was sitting here, waiting.


    "So many," said Sahshir.


    "Leave them," said Nayasha. "The city is doomed. And that is a good thing."


    Sahshir could leave. People were being slaughtered, and he was doing nothing. No doubt, the demons were sitting on high, laughing. Fury came to him as he realized he was but an afterthought to them. Abdul Sahshir was no more than a thief in the night to their eyes. No, no, he would show them just who he was. He rose and drew his sword. "Take the Grail and leave. I will remain and deal with these."


    "You have your orders," said Nayasha.


    "Does Tuor hold authority over me?" asked Sahshir, not keeping the scorn from his voice.


    "He does," said Nayasha. "And you are a fool to ignore him."


    "And you are a coward to abandon the fight," said Sahshir. "Go if you will.


    "I will gain victory here or die trying."


    "Do as you wish," said Nayasha.


    Then she departed.


    Why was Sahshir doing this? He knew on some level that he would likely be overwhelmed and killed. But as he walked, he considered that he was not likely to last much longer in this life. He''d been taught little about the ruling, and Asim would probably act against him sooner or later. Failing that, his disease would claim him.


    It is better to die in battle than by poison. And he despised the idea of fleeing. Yes, he was trying to stop the flow of chaos itself. But was that different from what the purpose of Order was? To stand from the darkness of animal instincts and impose your will upon it. To proclaim that you will not stand for madness, even if all the world conspires to aid it.


    As chaos has its uttermost source in the world, so does Order have its uttermost source in the self. That is why he would fight for Order. Even amid oblivion, he would fight for it. The universe is without mercy or honor. But he was not. Those around me care nothing for right or wrong. But he would serve right. And from his words and deeds, there would be Order, if only for a moment.


    That was his purpose. Those who opposed him would be destroyed.


    Sahshir saw a group of civilians fleeing from armored men with rectangular shields. They were here for the killing and plunder.


    They would achieve neither against him. Sahshir charged into battle.

 Chapter 64 - Nineteen: Go and Die

    Narcissa''s eyes opened, and she saw Garacel looking down at her and feeling warm and friendly. Above him was the ceiling of the Sanctum of Zigildrazia with all its statues and places. Rising suddenly, she found her limbs aching and hoped she looked good. She''d tried to stop him.


    She''d failed. So much for all of her training so far, she felt only disappointment. Disappointment in herself and in the situation.


    "Narcissa, you awaken," said Garacel. The Seeker was kneeling over her, one hand upon his sword.


    "Yes, I... I tried to stop them, but..." began Narcissa.


    "Everything has proceeded as expected," said Garacel.


    "What?" said Narcissa.


    Garacel flourished the Blade of Chaos in hand, and it seemed to shriek. "Or, more precisely, events are well within acceptable parameters.''


    "What do you mean ''within acceptable parameters''?" asked Narcissa. "The whole city has gone mad." Zigildrazia could not be wrong.


    "The battle is ongoing," said Garacel. "It was inevitable that it should happen. The important thing is that the Blade of Chaos is growing in power."


    "The Sword..." said Narcissa. "Do we have the power to resurrect Typhos yet?" All those who were dying were dying for that purpose. She must not question it.


    Garacel did not answer. Narcissa stood. "Garacel?"


    "Follow me," said Garacel.


    "Where is Alkela?" asked Narcissa.


    "She and Illaryus have gone out to fight the legions," said Garacel. "They entered the gates some time ago. Now follow." This time, it was a command.


    Narcissa obeyed.


    They walked through the empty halls of the Sanctum. Everyone who had once dwelled here had either left to fight or fled through the passages below.


    "Ages ago, there was a great war between the powers of the universe," said Garacel. "In this war, there were gods and demons on both sides. Every power had its own goal, and every power schemed against the others.


    "One of these powers was Typhos, the Goddess of Chaos. She is the mother of all monsters and is an ally of Zigildrazia. The first raishans were her creation, as were the chimeras, hydras, and many others. The Blade of Chaos was forged for her champion.


    "Now that sword shall return her to life."


    "But..." Narcissa paused. "What about the people. We served Zigildrazia loyally... should we... be considered." She was dangerously close to heresy here.


    "They are," said Garacel. "Better that they die in the service of something greater than be prey to invading armies. Those worthy shall enter into Zigildrazia''s harem.


    "Our enemies will be destroyed, and Zigildrazia shall be pleased."


    A door opened, and they came to a vast chamber. An altar was at the center, and a huge, black heart was on it. Arteries connected to each wall, and it was still beating hard. The beating was like the deeper drum in history and shook her.


    "Why here, Master Garacel? Why Zigilus?" asked Narcissa. "Why couldn''t we do all this in the Emperor''s territory if he was an enemy. Then, we could have moved the heart to Davus."


    "Would that we could destroy our enemies in such a fashion," said Garacel. "Unfortunately, the Blade of Chaos cannot create flesh as Order can. And were we to move the heart, it would die. For it was here, where this very mountain stands, that Zeya and Typhos had their final battle. They summoned their avatars with all that remained of their power. It was a cataclysmic battle.


    "In those days, few dwelled in the east, which was fortunate. Had any civilization existed here, it would have been laid to waste. The battle was terrible. Mountains were cast down. A great pit delved into the land, and the sea flowed into the Bay of Lightning. And many storms lie over the bay. They have never cleared.


    "In the final grapple, Zeya was pushed down beneath the body of Typhos. But Elranor drove his blade, Lightning Trail, into Typhos'' side. Thus, Zeya was freed, and she lifted a great mountain and buried Typhos beneath it.


    "Typhos was trapped beneath the mountain, and what power remained to her was sealed away in the far west. Over time, her body decayed, its broken limbs and heads fading away. These became plants and creatures of the land. But her heart remained deep beneath the mountains.


    "Until one day, a group of miners who served me found it.


    "The heart was still beating. So I brought it up from the earth and kept it safe, hoping to one day restore her. But the Blade of Chaos had been lost long ago, during the great war. So, it was beyond my power to bring her back.


    "Yet not all hope was lost. I erected a shrine around the heart and drew to it many of the monster races. Thus, Typhos gained a small following among those the other gods rejected. Slowly, she began to increase in power.


    "But the war with Calisha went poorly. And Baltoth sought to destroy the heart. So I gave it to Zigildrazia, a longtime ally of Typhos. My hope was that one day, she would be restored.


    "That day has come.


    "The heart remains. It beats still here at the very center of the Palace of Zigildrazia. Now, in the name of chaos, Typhos shall be restored!" And he drove the Blade of Chaos deep into the heart. Green blood spurted out, soaking the blade. And it began to beat faster, then faster still. A light green glow came from the heart as whispers intensified.


    "How long will it take?" asked Narcissa.


    "Hours," said Garacel. "We must ensure that none reaches this Sanctum. Ready your axe. We have work to do.


    "When Typhos arises, the legion will be a fitting sacrifice."


    Then, the light became blinding, and they were standing in the streets of Zigilus. The legions were fighting against swarms of raishans. Battlelusters hacked and slashed with glee. There was Illaryus, slashing off heads like a man returned from the dead. There was Alkela, swinging about her with a mace. So many had fallen to her already.


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    "Now," said Garacel, "do as Zigildrazia wills. Take up your weapon and fight. Kill all who would oppose the will of Zigildrazia."


    There was only one answer to be made.


    Narcissa raised her axe and charged. She saw one of the legionaries moving toward her. She brought her axe around, and he caught it on his shield. The axe cleaved straight through and sank into his side. He gasped as blood was spat from his face to land upon her, and she drew out the blade. Swinging it down, she shattered a helm and waded into the fray.


    She was not her own.


    She belonged to Zigildrazia to do with as she willed.


    Her body moved almost of its own accord, hacking and slashing. An odd tranquility fell over her as she watched herself kill repeatedly.


    "Master Garacel, when I last used this weapon, it..." she said in her mind. "I felt someone, Amysta. She took over my body."


    "Indeed?" came Garacel''s thought in turn. "That is unfortunate.


    "We suspected that her spirit remained within her bloodline. But we had hoped otherwise. Still, this presents an opportunity. This axe naturally draws upon your demonic heritage, Narcissa. The more you wield it, the more Amysta''s will embody you.


    "Should you die, her strength will be decimated even further. And Zigildrazia''s dominance over the domain of lust unchallenged."


    Did Zigildrazia want her to die? Narcissa hesitated. "Are you ordering me to"


    "I am not ordering you to do anything," said Garacel. "The axe is yours to wield, or not wield, as you see fit. So commanded Zigildrazia. You may wield your old one if you wish. But without the power of this axe, you may well die.


    "Who else may the citizens look to for their defense?"


    She had a choice. But there was only one answer she could make. "You''ve given me everything. I won''t back out now."


    Bodies surrounded her. Dozens of corpses lay hewn about her as she slashed. The legionaries were retreating, but more came. These ones advanced in formation, shields raised. Narcissa let out a howl and charged. As she did, she saw Illaryus charging with her and Alkela, her ring on her finger and gleaming.


    The raishans also charged with them.


    Once they crashed into the legions, the real battle began. The enemy line held firm. They were fighting to keep them back. When a man fell, another came to replace him. They hewed down many raishans and lesser warriors. But Alkela and Rakel''s weapons cut through all defenses. Little by little, the enemy formation was being driven back. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Hewn skulls and broken limbs were all around her. Carnage was rising throughout the streets. Archers fired from rooftops. Monsters swooped down from the sky to kill and be killed. Spears were hurled as more and more legionaries stormed through the gates.


    It was glorious. An orgy of constant bloodshed consumed the entire city. How she lived for such moments.


    No.


    No Amysta lived for such moments. Narcissa lived for Zigildrazia. She felt as if she was willing to feel. Did as she wanted to do. That was her nature and purpose. Narcissa now felt the two aspects of her combined in a single body. It existed independently of oneself.


    Lusting for battle and blood, but for two different reasons.


    At length, she stood alone in a courtyard, surrounded by bodies. Her face was smiling, and her limbs and face were covered in blood. It reminded her, no, Amysta, of bathing in the blood of virgins. But Narcissa felt sick and shrugged it off.


    Then she saw a shadow.


    Turning and looking up to the roof, she saw Dakan standing there. He was holding two short swords in both hands, spinning them absently. "My, how enthusiastic you''ve become, Narcissa."


    "Dakan," said Narcissa. "Why aren''t you helping with the fight?"


    "Well, I did help start it," said Dakan. "I think it only fair that I will be allowed to take a more relaxed policy." He looked from the roof to where smoke was rising from a distant inferno. "I must admit, when I informed the Emperor of Garacel''s plan, I wasn''t expecting a response of this sort. I was hoping for subtle machinations. Political backstabbing and the like.


    "This isn''t really my specialty.


    "Still, withdrawing the guards for Baltoth''s minions was simple enough."


    Narcissa hurled her axe, spinning toward him. He leaped over it and spun through the air to land behind her, blades aimed at her heart. But Narcissa drew back her axe and clashed blades with him. "You''ll pay for what you did to Zarana!"


    "What did I do?" asked Dakan. "Was it not what Zigildrazia did to her?"


    Narcissa shoved him back and unleashed a flurry of blows. Dakar dodged and weaved through them. He spun his swords playfully before catching her axe between them. "My such aggression on both your parts. You should try to demonstrate less blind fury and more skill."


    His sword lashed out for her throat. But as it did, he flinched back and narrowly avoided having his skull caved in. Then, somersaulting backward, he leaped into the air and landed on a low roof. Alkela fell next to Narcissa, weapon in hand.


    Dakan spun his blades a final time. Then he smiled. "Yes, now that is more like it. Come on, little human girls. Let us see how you fare against one who knows what he is doing!"


    He descended, and they brought around their weapons.


    Dakan dodged and weaved through their strikes. But as he did so, Alkela and Narcissa flanked him, always staying on opposite sides. They coordinated their attacks, moving as a single unit. Dakan was soon on the defensive.


    Finally, he slid back, falling to one knee. But as they moved toward him, he hurled a vial of oil onto the ground. It exploded into an inferno, and when it cleared, Dakan was back on top of the roof again. "...So, it appears you are better than I thought. I wanted to have a different kind of fun while the city burned.


    "But both of you at once is a bit much, even for me. So I leave you two to your inevitable corruption."


    Then, turning, he leaped from the roof and out of sight.


    The doors around them were then thrown open. The legionnaires rushed in with bloodied swords. "For the Emperor! For Dinis! Cleanse this city! Purge the heretics!"


    The two stood back to back as the legionaries closed in around them. They hacked and slashed together, cleaving down all they could. Yet more bodies were added to the growing pile. Sons, fathers, and brothers were cut down as the circle drew ever closer around them.


    This was it.


    Now, at last, they would die. Thus would the will of Zigildrazia be fulfilled.


    "Blood for Zigildrazia!" cried a voice.


    Then, through the doors burst a light, and out of it charged Illaryus. He seemed to change as he rushed at the legionnaires, hacking them down. His back straightened, and his skin became unwrinkled. His teeth became perfect as the graying hair turned silver. So here was the Chief of the Battlelusters in his full glory.


    All that stood before him were killed. His blade could not pierce the armor but found every weak point. More legionaries came in behind him, but they died by the dozens wherever he walked.


    And finally, they broke and fled.


    Illaryus stood where he was momentarily, an image of the glory of all Battlelusters. Then he collapsed to his knees. And as the glamour faded, Narcissa saw that his body was covered in grievous wounds.


    She ran to him and caught him as he fell back. "Illaryus!


    "Illaryus, hold on!"


    His skin began to crack. "We are gone now, Narcissa. All save you and Alkela. All have died in this battle, and the city we served will soon follow. The raishans are destroyed, and all we did for naught." Then Illaryus smiled. "...I call this... a fine death..."


    A light came from the cracks, and suddenly, he faded. His body disappeared as if it had never been. As he did, the legionnaires crept back in.


    They held the doorways all around them, shields readied. Archers came to the windows and bent their bows. Narcissa could have made one final charge, but there was no point.


    The archers screamed as spectral blades were driven through their backs. The legionnaires turned and began fighting with some enemy. They disappeared from sight, and screams could be heard.


    Then Garacel walked into view. His swords were sheathed, and he was flanked by dozens of specters. Some of them Narcissa had seen speaking with Illaryus in the Sanctum.


    "This I will not allow," said Garacel.


    "Master Garacel?" asked Narcissa.


    "I have not faced the armies of Dinis in a long time," said Garacel. "Their armaments have improved somewhat. Well done, both of you."


    Narcissa felt a lump in her throat. "What do we do now?"


    "Typhos will return soon," said Garacel. "For now, we will feed her resurrection. We will kill as many mortals as humanly possible. It should be a decent sport. Come."


    He walked onward. As he did, two surviving legionaries rushed at him, only to fall headless to the ground.


    Narcissa followed. Illaryus was dead, but she could still save this city. She had to.

 Chapter 65 - Twenty: Showdown

    Initially, things had been straightforward.


    The legion had been prepared for the sacking of a city and had yet to expect heavy resistance. Instead, they had broken ranks and begun to loot, pillage, and take prisoners. This allowed Sahshir to pick and kill his targets one at a time.


    This had not lasted.


    Now, the legion had gotten organized. The legion advanced from building to building in good order. They were setting fire and killing as they went. They guarded each other against demons and mortals alike. Their shields protected each other. Together, they began to mop up scattered resistance.


    A door broke open, and a woman fled out of a house, pursued by the legionnaires. Arrows landed around her, but none found their mark as she sprinted away. In her grip was a screaming child.


    Sahshir dropped down from the rooftop and through the window. Bringing his sword around, he beheaded one of the archers. From there, he went from window to window, killing as he went. Some withdrew to lower floors. He knew they would return with better-armed soldiers. Before they could, he leaped out of the window and landed on the street below.


    He saw the woman fall as a legionary raised his blade to kill them. Sahshir sprinted with all his might and passed him, cleaving. The man fell into many pieces, and Sahshir pulled the woman up.


    "Run for the Sanctum of Zigildrazia," he said. "The monks have a way of escape."


    Then, as she ran, he turned to face the enemy coming at him. They hurled spears at him. He dodged and weaved, cutting one in half as it fell. Then, hurling several kunai. He was disappointed when they all were caught on their shields.


    More of them were coming now. Their swords were bloodied from fresh kills.


    He ran, sprinting into an alley. Running up the wall, he kicked off, then back and forth until he reached the top. Then he leaped from rooftop to rooftop to escape. As he did, he saw a group of citizens with weapons fighting with the legionaries. Several of them fell, and not one legionary died with them.


    He leaped to that rooftop and cleaved through a helmet. Then, drawing his blade out, he stepped around the next man''s guard and jabbed his sword under the man''s armpit. Pulling out, he fended off several strikes before vaulting over his enemy. As he landed, he stabbed him through the throat from behind.


    The citizens were all dead now.


    He fled down the steps and found the enemy waiting at the bottom. Leaping over a spear thrust, he beheaded the man and landed quickly. More were waiting for him at the base of the steps, and these, too, fell. But somewhere along the line, he must have been cut. As he stumbled into another room filled with civilian corpses, he felt an ache in his arm. He''d been sliced.


    Sahshir felt like he was bailing out a sinking ship with a thimble. All he could do was buy time for the people to get on lifeboats, and only a little of it.


    As he fled into the darkness of night, he slipped into an alley and fell to one wall, breathing heavily. He could hear screams and battle raging around him. Troops of soldiers rushed by him, crying battle cries. "Forward Legionnaires! For the Emperor! Let none of these heretics survive the reaping!"


    Demons met them in battle, and the legions fought them without flinching.


    Curse these legions. They had no fear. Sahshir had had several close calls tonight. Drawing a bandage from one of the compartments in his belt, he tied his wound to staunch the bleeding.


    "Please, please don''t hurt me-" begged someone before their voice was cut short.


    Looking around the corner, he saw the legion was now fighting with some of the city''s defenders. They were hacking and slashing at each other in a melee now. They seemed evenly matched.


    Turning into the street, Sahshir rushed to join the fray. He hacked and slashed, killing and maiming. He was almost in a trance, watching blood spilling across the flagstones.


    Soon, he found himself fighting with a legionary. His enemy was good on defense, and his shield could hold up against the Sword of Chaos. They fought back and forth, and Sahshir realized he had seen this one before.


    He''d killed many demons in the fields before the city. Now, he wielded a cracked shield and bloody sword against the weapon of a god. Sahshir''s blows were warded off, and lethal thrusts were the reply that he had to dodge. They circled, slashing and fighting without end.


    Magnificent.


    But it could not last.


    The defenders of Zigilus had now fled or died. The legionaries were moving to surround him. Leaping back, Sahshir fled into an open door and up a flight of steps. He heard them following him.


    The stairs led ever higher. Soon, he realized he had scaled to the top of a tower. Slamming shut the door, he ran to the edge and vaulted over the edge, allowing himself to fall. Then, drawing out the Sword of Order, he jammed it into the stonework. It sank in deep and slowed his fall as he surged toward the ground.


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    Coming to a halt, he sprinted away.


    Eventually, he halted and fell to his knees. He could not continue like this.


    "Another dozen souls cut down by your blade, Kalthakian?" asked a question.


    Sahshir rose and looked up. A dark-skinned man in a long coat stood before him with his hands in his pockets. He was smiling.


    "Would you stand by and let them go unopposed?" asked Sahshir.


    "You defend your enemies?" asked the man. "Many things have been done in the name of Baltoth. Not this, I think."


    Sahshir looked at him warily. What was he playing at? "It is in the name of my own will."


    "Very well, then." said the man. "I am Dakan. May I make a suggestion?"


    This was absurd.


    "What is it?" asked Sahshir.


    "You are fighting two enemies now. The raishans and the legion," said Dakan. "And all this violence is happening in the city. If you could move both out to fight each other, many more could be saved."


    "I have no power to control raishans," said Sahshir.


    "True," said Dakan. "But the raishans are focused wholly on the Blade of Chaos. Speaking of which, you may have noticed our friend." He pointed upwards. Sahshir followed the gesture and saw that the shadow he had seen before had grown. He could now make out scales and individual aspects of the heads.


    It was not yet in the world. But it would be soon.


    "Where is the Blade of Chaos?" asked Sahshir.


    "In an exceptional part of the Sanctum," said Dakan. "Only a Garacel and Zigildrazia knew of it until I followed Garacel to it. Within beats the heart of Typhos. In that heart, if the Blade of Chaos.


    "If it were removed, that shadow might dissipate. Bring the Blade of Chaos into the main camp of the legions. They will have to withdraw to defend it."


    "Why are you helping me?" asked Sahshir. "What do you want?"


    "All within this city are my enemies," said Dakan. "For I have made them so. But the civilians are of no threat."


    "Will you lead me there?" asked Sahshir.


    Dakan shrugged. "I''d love to. But we''re about to have company."


    Sahshir turned and saw Grakus walking into view. He was soaked in blood and grime and smiling wide as he walked toward them, soaked to his neck in blood. The cords on his arms were wrapped around nine legionnaires, choking the life from them. They constricted suddenly, and their heads rolled across the street.


    Grakus stretched. "So, the descendant of Neseriah, he weaves his webs, does he?


    "And his pawns are all set. But the board will be flipped before he ever uses them."


    "Grakus?" said Sahshir.


    "I am pleased you remember me, human," said Grakus.


    "You know what Garacel is doing, do you not?" said Sahshir. "This will destroy the very city you are meant to protect. Kill thousands." If he could get past this man without a fight-


    "Far more than that," laughed Grakus. "And it has already killed thousands."


    Sahshir considered what this made him. "...You''re a monster," he said matter-of-factly. Though he felt nothing when he said it. Oddly, he should feel rage like some old heroes when witnessing atrocities.


    "You remind me of someone I once faced," said Grakus. "A fool who sought to battle me in single combat. He sought to avenge his wife and refused help to do it. For the life of me, I cannot remember the woman.


    "It was on that day that I met your mentor.


    "Tell me, does humanity suffer grief for the slaughter of innumerable sheep? Does the hunter mourn the deer? No, they do not. It is the nature of all things to consume and devour others."


    "But you have served as an officer in the service of those you deem sheep," said Sahshir, readying his sword. The two began to circle one another. "You benefit from their culture and society. Who forged the armor you bear? Or sewed the cloth beneath it?"


    "Humans, of course," said Grakus.


    "Then, whatever your race, you have made yourself one of them," said Sahshir. "You have integrated into their society and cannot stand above it. You are not a predator hunting prey but a murderer."


    "I prefer to think of myself as a wolf among sheep.," said Grakus. "HAIL TYPHOS!!"


    His cords then burst into green flame, and he surged at Sahshir. Sahshir yielded ground beneath the onslaught, fending it off as best he could. Finally, the heat of the cords was unbearable, and Grakus continued his assault. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Turning, Sahshir ran up a wall, kicking off it, and passed over Grakus. However, he twisted to avoid the cords even as his sword went down. Landing, he slashed at Grakus'' leg, but the man pulled back in time to avoid losing it. There was a small cut on him, however.


    "You''re strong, Kalthakian," said Grakus. "It is rare I am forced to face an enemy.


    "Once before, we stalemated on the airship. It shall not happen twice. The flame of Typhos shall break the foundations of the universe! And I shall cast it!" Then, raising a hand, he summoned five spheres of fire and hurled them at Sahshir.


    Sahshir ducked under one, rolled past another, and cleaved through a third with the Sword of Order. As he did, the other four hit the ground and exploded. It sent cobblestones and dirt everywhere.


    One caught him on the shoulder, and he fell to one knee in agony. Looking up, he saw Grakus surging toward him. His cords were all moving to impale Sahshir. And there was an opening. Rising to his feet, Sahshir surged toward Grakus.


    Before he could see where his strike fell, Sahshir and Grakus passed one another. They halted, and Sahshir felt the pain of a burn on his leg. He fell and touched his other shoulder, burning as well. He looked back and saw Grakus standing tall. Had he hit him?


    Then Grakus raised the hand from which his cords came. It was glowing, brighter and brighter. Blood spilled from an artery in his side as he fell to one knee. "My hand... It burns... IT BURNS!!"


    Grakus'' entire form began to light up. Cracks appeared in his flesh as fire surged from his veins. A howl came from his lips as Sahshir leaped into a nearby gutter and prayed for the best. There was a surge of heat and green light as the walls were scorched. Then it was over. Sahshir pulled himself up and saw no sign of Grakus. He had been a formidable opponent and died for his cause.


    Sahshir bowed in respect.


    Then came the sound of clapping.


    Dakan moved forward as Sahshir forced himself to stand. "Well done, well done indeed. It''s been a long time since I had such an excellent show." Drew out a vial and tossed it at Sahshir''s feet. "Drink that; it should restore your flesh and bone."


    Sahshir had little choice but to take it on faith. If he didn''t drink it, he was a dead man. Dropping his sword, he unstoppered the bottle and drank it down. Instantly, his burns and injuries flared with unbearable pain. It was all he could do not to fall.


    But when it was over, he was in perfect health.


    "Now," said Dakan, "follow me. And I will lead you where you want to go."


    How considerate of him. Sahshir made a mental note to kill him once he outlived his usefulness. He really seemed like the treacherous sort.

 Chapter 66 - Twenty-One: Settling the Score

    The legion had been stopped.


    The armored soldiers had stopped advancing. Now, they were erecting defenses against an unending tide of ghost warriors. Spirits raised from those they had slaughtered. Narcissa and Alkela fought, killed, and fought some more to help. But they had not given up.


    They walked through the corpse-strewn streets and found Master Garacel. At his feet were many headless legionaries. His sword was bloodied, but the weapon went clean with a flick of it.


    He turned to them. "Ah, Narcissa, Alkela, I am pleased to see both of you still alive. Tell me, has Amysta shown any signs of manifestation?"


    "No. No, she hasn''t," said Narcissa before looking to Alkela, who shook her head. So why hadn''t Alkela suffered the same problem? Or had she suffered it, but no one had noticed.


    "Good," said Garacel.


    "I don''t understand why," said Narcissa. "She manifested within me so easily before. So why would she not be able to anymore?"


    "Her spirit is still reeling from touching the Grail of Immortality," said Garacel. "Amysta was never one for research or contemplation.


    "She did not understand the Grail, so she thought she could grasp it like any other artifact."


    "Why couldn''t she?" asked Narcissa. "Baltoth did."


    Garacel shook his head. "The Grail was not created by the Gods, but by a being beyond them. He dwells beyond the Soul Event Horizon at the end of the universe.


    "It will not tolerate one of Amysta''s kind taking it up."


    Narcissa considered what Garacel had done. Willingly unleashed raishans on, relatively speaking, innocent people. He had no regrets and had done it without hesitation. There had been no sadism, but did that really matter?


    No. It did not.


    Garacel Zigildrazia and Amysta were all of the same kind. It''s just that Narcissa was on the former two''s side. "Then how did you steal it?"


    Garacel shifted to look at her as though amused. "I wore gloves."


    Narcissa blinked. "That worked?"


    "Yes," said Garacel. "Why would it not? The Grail hurts those who touch it. If I am wearing half an inch of leather around my body, that does not count as touching it."


    "That just seems a bit of a weakness," said Narcissa.


    "In time, you will find that the most elaborate defenses can be circumvented. Usually, by simple acts of pragmatism," said Garacel. "That is why keeping one''s plans simple is important."


    "What part of this plan is simple?" asked Narcissa.


    "It was Zigildrazia''s plan, not mine," said Garacel. "She likes to make very complex plans. She feels it is more entertaining when they fall to pieces and more impressive when they go off without a hitch. In any case, I doubt it would have harmed me as it did her. It deals in degrees, and I have never done the things Amysta did in all my years."


    "Why did you tell me about the Grail in the first place?" asked Narcissa.


    "I was showing it to Amysta," said Garacel. "Zigildrazia had been concerned about her sister manifesting for some time. I thought she would take it if I presented Amysta with an opportunity. And if she didn''t take it, no harm would be done. As things stand, things have worked flawlessly." He halted and looked up. Then his eyes narrowed. "So, the Sword of Order comes to interfere.


    "Follow me. We have one more enemy to face before this ends."


    He turned to stride away. Narcissa moved after her. "What about the legions?"


    "They are nearly broken," said Garacel. "They cannot stop what is now arising. However, the wielder of the Sword of Order can.


    "Still, I must admit that the legions have proven themselves a formidable enemy. More so than I expected."


    "What were they like when you ruled?" asked Narcissa.


    "There were no legions in those days," said Garacel, voice wistful. "When I ruled as Lover Eternal, there were many kingdoms without a single ruler, though all hailed me. But with the coming of Baltoth, I was cast down. In my place arose an imposter known as Safara. A serpent, born of Baltoth''s union with one of my old enemies. She unified them by subverting the wills of the people.


    "And yet she crossed Baltoth to her folly. She was captured and taken as a slave to Calisha, where she resides now. And her empire fractured, with no unifying force.


    It was from these shattered remnants that Zigildrazia, Typhos, and Amysta came. They filled the void that was left and created a great empire.


    "Dinis."


    They strode through the blood-drenched streets, moving with speed. Narcissa saw one horror after another. Cleaved limbs and dead bodies everywhere. "Master Garacel, wasn''t there any way to do this plan without killing all these people?"


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    "Are you experiencing doubts?" asked Garacel.


    "Yes," said Narcissa, "I''m still loyal to Zigildrazia; I exist for her. But I feel them."


    "Doubt is the source of true faith," said Garacel. "If you were not experiencing doubt, your faith would be worthless. Only by questioning can we understand. And only through understanding can we truly revere Her Radiance." His voice was deadpan, as though reciting a script. "To answer your question, I suspect that Zigildrazia intends to give their souls to Typhos. No doubt, to create new breeds of monsters.


    "A sort of peace offering. They will live again in another form soon enough."


    They came before the gates of the Sanctum of Zigildrazia. There, Garacel halted by them and turned. He sat down crosslegged and set his sword over his knees. "We all of us exist for a purpose. Each of us was set upon this world for a singular act we were born to perform.


    "All that we control is whether we embrace our purpose. Or defy it." He looked up at a nearby building. "Wouldn''t you agree, Abdul Sahshir?"


    Narcissa followed his gaze and saw Abdul Sahshir and Dakan. Sahshir had his blade in hand, and his scarf flowed around him. He leaped down from the building and landed in a roll as Dakan landed next to him, his coat flowing.


    "Garacel," said Sahshir.


    Garacel rose as Narcissa drew her axe. "And so we meet again, once more amidst a flaming city. Poetic, is it not?"


    "What is the meaning of this, Dakan," said Sahshir.


    "It seems that Garacel intends to keep us from the Sanctum," said Dakan. If I suggest a strategy, Lord Sahshir, I could retrieve the Blade of Chaos.


    "Meanwhile, you may settle scores with Garacel and allow us victory." S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Dakan, I thought the gate fell too easily," said Garacel, raising his sword. "You have overplayed your hand today. It is a mistake you will not live to regret."


    "A fine plan Dakan," said Sahshir. "Go on ahead, and when you get the Blade, do not come back for me."


    "As you wish," said Dakan.


    Then Dakan faded into the shadows and appeared behind them through the gate. He was rushing away. Garacel raised a hand, and the gate swung open. "Alkela, Narcissa, go after him. Take his head.


    "I will attend to the boy."


    Narcissa nodded. "Yes, Master Garacel."


    They sprinted after him through the front doors of the temple. As they did, Dakan descended from above and drove his knife down. It passed through Alkela''s exposed stomach and sank deep. Alkela let out a wordless scream and fell to the ground.


    "Alkela?!" screamed Narcissa.


    She swung around her axe, but Dakan darted away, parrying her slashes with his blades. He was smiling as he gave ground. "And so we battle again. Entertaining at the least, though not good."


    Then he knocked aside her axe and went through the throat. Something took hold of Narcissa, and she moved backward. Her body began to move on its own, defending and slashing. Where before she had been outmatched, now she was overwhelming him.


    Interest dawned within Narcissa. The sight of Alkela bleeding on the ground passed from her mind. Other things were thought of instead. "Why are you doing this, Dakan? What do you gain from it?"


    "Gain?" asked Dakan, dodging around a strike. "My dear, wealth is empty. Pleasure is empty. Life is empty. You cannot truly gain anything.


    "The taking is what delights me." He landed behind Narcissa and slashed at her with his duel blades. "The taking of life. The taking of money. The taking of control. All those masterful little demon lords and gods, all playing their game. And none of them win. All the world will be consumed in a final defeat.


    "And over the corpses, I shall be the victor."


    Narcissa gave ground, noting Alkela rising from the ground behind him. "Baltoth is going to give you an influential position in Safara''s new order, isn''t he?"


    Dakan halted. "...What makes you say that?"


    "Well, if I were you, I''d want to keep playing first and foremost," said Narcissa. "So I''d set up a deal with whoever would be coming in to replace Zigildrazia. Suppose I were the Emperor of Dinis, and I was going to overthrow my patron god. In that case, I''d want protection from the most powerful god close to home. That''s Baltoth.


    "And if I were Baltoth and wanted to establish my hold over Dinis, I''d send my daughter Safara, who used to rule the place. But since she crossed me once, I''d want someone close to her with many connections to keep her in check.


    "Which means you."


    Dakan spun his swords around. "...Well, you aren''t wrong."


    "So, for all your talk about destruction for its own sake, you actually have a plan," said Narcissa.


    Narcissa sent forth her will into Alkela, forcing her body to heal at an enhanced rate. As she did, Dakan took a stance. "Well, of course, I have a plan, you stupid girl. You can only play the game with one. You need to include the point.


    "The point of all this isn''t the plan''s end goal. That''s just an excuse. I do all this because I delight in destroying what others have built. All these fancy towers and silver necklaces are just dust in the wind.


    "Just like Zarana!"


    Narcissa went still. And suddenly, part of her was very, very angry. "You destroyed her life out of spite?!"


    "No, I merely prefer teenage girls," said Dakan. "Not too young or old, with a certain innocence. I have sufficient influence and use it to avoid prosecution, so I use it.


    "It''s more about the journey than the destination, honestly."


    "Fine, we''ll go by your advice!" Narcissa charged. "My axe is going to end up in your skull! But it will take a long journey all over your body!"


    Dakan leaped back, parrying strokes until he was up against the doors. He dodged aside narrowly, and the door was smashed open. The light poured into the darkened room, and Narcissa flinched back. Dakan seemed made of shadow. "My, aren''t we standing tall, Narcissa?


    "You''re casting a long shadow."


    Then he vanished.


    Narcissa turned around just in time to see a blade surge forward and catch her in the shoulder. She gasped and fell to the ground as Dakan raised his other dagger.


    "A gift from my dear ancestor, Neseriah," said Dakan.


    How had he done this? Bypassed her armor?


    "You know, I always like that rule about female body armor here," said Dakan, forcing her down. "Oh, it''s impractical, but there is something satisfying about it.


    "Most people don''t understand that the armor doesn''t deflect blades. It merely alters the wills of people, so they aim everywhere else. But, with proper training, you can overcome it.


    "Now-"


    Then he looked up and melted into the shadows again as Alkela charged at him. Her mace passed through where he was, and he appeared there. Lashing out with her axe, Narcissa caught him in the ankle, and it broke off.


    Dakan hit the ground, screaming. Narcissa rose and approached him, keeping one hand on her wound. A wound that even now was disappearing. She felt amusement at the sight of Dakan screaming.


    He deserved this.


    "You... you worthless bitch! Baltoth will not allow you to-" began Dakan.


    Narcissa put one high-heeled boot on his neck. And she felt as if Amysta was bleeding through again. "Sorry.


    "But I''ve got an axe to grind about your conduct." Then she grabbed her axe in both hands and brought down the axe.


    Narcissa felt happy. Zarana was avenged. Amysta was pleased with herself for the one-liner. But, Alkela stared at her.


    "Oh, what?" said Amysta''s part. "Like you could have come up with a better one!" Narcissa forced herself to return. "Let''s get to the sword. I want to see it. And we can guard it against any further attempts. We can leave the head here."


    They made their way through the passage, back where they had come.


    On and on, they walked. The passage had changed again. It was like a ruin now, with broken flagstones. Moss was growing on it, and puddles of black liquid could be seen here and there. The drip of water was everywhere.


    Then they came into the chamber of the Heart. It, too, had changed. The Heart now sat on a pedestal atop a pillar. A raised staircase winded up to it, and on a throne in the air was Zigildrazia. She was once again in her true, beautiful form. "Narcissa, Alkela, I''m glad you are here. I was getting very lonely with both of you gone.


    "Your little friend Sahshir is on his way here."


    Narcissa''s blood ran cold. "Did he kill Master Garacel?"


    Zigildrazia smiled. "Now that would be telling."


    Narcissa felt she would learn no more than that. Amysta wanted her to inquire, but Narcissa did not. Zigildrazia did not like it, and so she did not desire it.

 Chapter 67 - Twenty-two: Single Combat

    Sahshir should have attacked at once.


    Narcissa and Dakan were fleeing into the Sanctum as he spoke. But he knew how dangerous Garacel was and wanted to avoid making a mistake. So he took a stance and waited as Garacel observed him. Then, the two began to circle one another, looking for weaknesses in their guards.


    The truth was he would lose and be forced to retreat. If so, Garacel would pursue Dakan. Therefore, his best hope was to hold Garacel at bay for a time and then withdraw.


    "There have been one or two problems, as there always are," said Garacel. "But I am well enough content with how things have turned out.


    "What of you, Kalthakian? Does the destruction of your enemies bring you joy?"


    "By you?" asked Sahshir. "Only disgust."


    Garacel raised his sword and prepared for a strike. Sahshir mirrored the motion. "I wonder what made you so determined to confront me. Indeed, you could have left Dakan here to face me and gone yourself.


    "Narcissa and Alkela would have been an easier target."


    "You invaded my home. And hurt those that belong to me," said Sahshir. It was more personal than he would like to admit.


    "I have invaded many places, and all have trembled beneath my footsteps," said Garacel. "Though yours was more challenging than most, your vendetta is hardly new. For I am Garacel, and few are they who can stand against me and live.


    "Still, I have a vendetta of my own. It will take some time for me to regain the servants you destroyed. I will face you again, sword to sword. And let the strongest triumph."


    "So be it," said Sahshir.


    Then, they surged at one another. Sahshir found his blade moving almost of its own accord. He lashed out again and again, moving ever faster. But Garacel moved with natural confidence and could not harm the living armor.


    Then Garacel lashed out. Sahshir bent backward and avoided losing his head. He saw the blade gleaming slowly as it passed by his eyes. Then, falling to his hands, he backflipped away to gain distance. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But even as he landed, Garacel was on him. The Sword of Order was raised, and the blow rang. There they stood, locked, will against will, blade against blade. Here, Garacel had the advantage; his blade''s weight was like a mountain, and Sahshir was forced to one knee. He was losing. But Garacel had an imbalanced stance.


    Rolling forward, Sahshir slipped away from the blade. Slashing, he caught Garacel in the leg. The living armor reeled, and he stumbled black. Sahshir pressed his advantage and drove his enemy before him. Again, Garacel met him in combat, and the Sword of Order flashed this time.


    Garacel''s blade shattered. Sahshir''s sword passed through toward his heart. But Garacel turned mid-thrust and caught the edge in one hand. The impact of it cracked and bent the fingers, but the Sword of Order was halted. The gauntlet began to melt.


    "Very swift," said Garacel. "A strike akin to lightning itself. Let me demonstrate my own." He raised one palm.


    Sahshir tried to free his sword and realized he wouldn''t have the chance. He let go and ducked just in time for a barrage of pink lightning to surge past where he had been. He felt the electrifying heat on his skin, which burned him as he fell. After that, he hardly ever felt anything. The bolt struck a nearby building, and the walls began to melt around it. In moments, the entire structure collapsed into nothingness.


    Garacel gripped the Sword of Order in his hand. But the blade was caught between his melted fingers. He tore it out With a snarl, breaking his gauntlet and raising the sword. He examined it. "A great weapon. Once, long ago, Valranor bade me wield it in his stead. I was always the greater warrior between us." He raised the weapon. "You have grown, Kalthakian. Your power has increased drastically in such a short time. Such is the way of the Lord of Knights."


    "The Lord of Knights?" Sahshir felt a chill. That title was-


    "One of the names of Elranor," said Garacel. "Though ill-fitting. The blood of the God of Healing runs through your veins. I know it by how you wield that blade."


    "You lie," said Sahshir.


    "I never lie directly," said Garacel. "Deception is far easier with a grain of truth. But this is neither. You who serve Baltoth are descended from his greatest enemy. An irony well worth savoring."


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    He took a stance as Sahshir drew out two daggers. If he pretended to be off-balance, he could catch Garacel off-guard. "My strength is my own!"


    "Of course it is," said Garacel, walking forward limply. "So Elranor would have you believe. But in the end, your strength is what has been granted to you. Mine is more than that.


    "Mine is the power eternal!"


    Then he surged forward. But his leg slowed him, and as he struck with the Sword, Sahshir rolled away. Jamming his kunai between the joint of Garacel''s leg, he leaped over a slash and vaulted over Garacel. As he did, he stopped the dagger into the former god''s neck, or where it would be. Landing, he drew out one last blade before driving it under his armpit toward his spectral heart.


    "I told you," said Sahshir. "My strength is my own."


    "...Believe what you will." gasped Garacel. "My will is done."


    Then his armor collapsed. The straps holding it together broke as the flames burned with an unyielding passion. Then it was spent, and nothing remained but dust.


    Sahshir drew the Sword of Order and sheathed it. From there, he turned and walked toward the gates. He was probably going to have to kill Narcissa in a moment. He felt nothing at the prospect.


    It was odd.


    Sahshir had not been like other men for as long as he could remember. He needed to figure out exactly where he was different. But he thought in ways foreign to them. He would see things that horrified them and find them unremarkable. Once, when Sushaki, Kushina, and he had been playing in a tree, he had accidentally knocked Kushina off.


    She''d sprained her ankle and had cried. So Sushaki had gone to her at once. So had Sahshir because that was what friends did. He''d known she was hurt, that he should be concerned. He''d known that he ought to help her, and he did.


    But he hadn''t cared.


    He knew she was in pain, but the fact didn''t matter to him. What mattered was maintaining their friendship. And helping her was part of that.


    The world was a sea of obligations. There were things one ought to do and things one ought not to do. Life was about fulfilling the expectations you were given. But Aresh had abandoned those obligations. He''d left to fulfill what he regarded as a higher purpose. Unfortunately, in doing so, he had made it impossible for Sahshir to meet his.


    That was why he had gone to kill him on that day.


    Sahshir stopped as he saw the corpse of Dakan. It lay without ahead. Looking around, he saw no sign of the head. But his hat was lying some ways away, soaked in blood.


    Now, he was delving deeper and deeper into the Sanctum of Zigildrazia. Wandering into the depths that were contrary to everything Baltoth stood for. There was a domain of ceaseless depravity and narcissism. A place where people did not act for a higher purpose. But neither did they perform as they ought to work, but because they wanted to act. And at the head was Zigidrazia, Lady of Sloth and Lust.


    Narcissa had been beneficial. Sahshir would have preferred not to kill her, yet he wouldn''t mind doing it. Was there something wrong with that?


    Whether there was or not, he soon passed the passage where he had found the Grail of Immortality. He walked now alone into uncharted halls. The flagstones were breaking apart. In their place was a substance that was like glass but clearer. And beyond that glass, he could see visions of hell and endless depravity.


    And then, at long last, he entered the place he had been seeking.


    There stood the Blade of Chaos. It was impaled into a massive, still-beating heart that floated high above a throne at the far end of a gilded hall. Many hundreds of weapons and armor were hung from the walls with all manner of emblems. And there lounged Zigildrazia. She had taken on a form older than he would have expected. Nine tails came from her back, hairless and multicolored, with wicked-looking blades.


    Four were wrapped around Narcissa and her twin, running over their bodies. Zigildrazia herself leaned on one arm of her throne. As he entered, she brightened up. "Ah, Abdul Sahshir. The would-be hero. I must thank you for destroying that decadent old piece of armor.


    "Garacel lasted in it far longer than I would have anticipated. He kept himself alive in it more out of principle than anything else. I was becoming concerned he would never die.


    "Tell me, what do you think of my handmaidens?"


    Sahshir hurled a dagger at her. Zigildazia caught it between two fingertips and looked at him. "Hmm, excellent, make this. Nothing too fancy. Still, some of the angles make it less aerodynamic.


    "I don''t usually work on kunai, but I could improve this somewhat."


    Sahshir rushed at her, Blade of Order swinging down. Zigildrazia did not look up, but her tails slashed out, forcing him to withdraw. He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and saw he''d been injured.


    Well, so much for confronting her. He looked at the wall and noticed tapestries. How many were there?


    "Oh, you noticed them," said Zigildrazia. "I don''t much enjoy them as decoration, but it''s a rare act of principle on my part. You see, you aren''t the first would-be hero to barge into my halls and try to kill me.


    "I have entire rooms dedicated to my prizes.


    "I''ve faced millions of would-be heroes. And I''m not making a poetic exaggeration when I say that. I counted."


    As she talked, Sahshir drew out a bandage and began to wrap it around himself. Zigildrazia watched in bemusement. "One of those silent, detached sorts, are we? Not my type, I''m afraid. I''ve always preferred heroic adventurers trying to do the right thing. Especially when they ultimately fall short of their own impossible standard.


    "Paladins are a particular favorite. I''ve taken to collecting them, actually. All are still alive and well, of course. Physically, at any rate."


    Sahshir finished bandaging his cut. She wasn''t even taking him seriously, was she? Well, it was justified. He wouldn''t be able to defeat her directly.


    "No matter," said Zigildraia, setting the twins down. "You''re just in time to see the unleashing of Typhos. But, my dears, do deal with him. It should be entertaining."


    The two twins landed and readied their weapons. Sahshir took a stance as they advanced on him. How did he win here? By achieving his goal. What was his purpose? To retrieve the Blade of Chaos and stop Typhos'' rising.


    He ran for a wall, grabbed a sword handle, and began to pull himself up to it. He narrowly avoided an axe cutting off his foot as he did.


    He scaled up and moved the sword to the heart above the throne. Below, he saw Zigildrazia raising a tail. A beam of violet light shot out. Sahshir leaped quickly and caught hold of a shield, even as the light blasted where he had been. Then, it began to move toward him. Quickly, he scrambled higher, desperately trying to stay ahead of more beams.


    Then he was near the heart. But beams were coming at him from every direction. He leaped for the Blade of Chaos. He drew his sword and rammed it into the seat as he did. His hand gripped the blade, drawing it out as he fell back.


    There was an unholy roar of fury.


    The ceiling cracked and began to break apart as he fell. The gilded walls collapsed as the trophies of Zigildrazia faded. He hit the ground at a roll and found himself within a small round chamber. But the ceiling was torn apart, and a shadow was cast over the stars. The innumerable heads of Typhos peered down upon them. They were lions, serpents, dragons, goats, and many others. Sahshir could see thousands of legs of all kinds as the shadow that had been growing now took on a new form.


    "Queen Typhos!" said Zigildrazia with a flourishing bow. "An honor as always."

 Chapter 68 - Twenty-three: Typhos Transcendent

    Typhos spoke. It sounded like thousands of different kinds of animals speaking at once. It was deafening, and Narcissa fell to the ground, screaming. Alkela remained behind, looking up in awe. It was all Sahshir could do to stand and take a stance.


    Wait, what was he doing taking a stance? He was in a room with two godlike entities of unfathomable power allied against him. He turned and ran for his life. As he did, their words reached him nonetheless.


    "Yes," said Zigildrazia. "I apologize for the blade through the heart burning through some of your power. You know these destined heroes are always throwing plans into disarray. My sincere apologies, really."


    The hallway was no longer translucent. Whatever material it had been made from was cracking, and through it was seeping a red mist. The very presence of it hurt Sahshir''s skin, but the Sword of Order flared, and it was driven away. Typhos spoke again.


    "And it has been returned to you." continued Zigildrazia. "Even now, its power grows as the chaos sewn long ago comes to the front. Monsters and men consume each other, and nations fail.


    "The world awaits only your return to destroy stagnation and liven things up."


    Typhos snarled something incomprehensible.


    "Did I?" asked Zigildrazia with a laugh. "How unfortunate. I must have been very bored. At any rate, I did overthrow her in turn. Her domain as the Demonic Archon of Lust has passed to me." Typhos replied again. This time, there was sarcasm in her tone. But the voice faded as he ran with all he had.


    Sahshir stumbled up the steps and out of the Sanctum. He found the doors were broken open and the walls cracking. Shadows were seeping out of the cracks, taking on monstrous forms. Many-headed serpents around him. Two-headed lions emerged from side rooms, roaring. Sahshir hacked and slashed through the snakes, but their heads regrew. He leaped over the lions and found himself cornered. Wielding the Blade of Chaos and the Sword of Order, she desperately hacked and slashed around him. Both flared with an unworldly light, and he killed them by the dozens.


    But there were always more.


    Stumbling out into the street over their corpses, Sahshir rushed through the gate. Heaving them, he slowly closed them. Finally, they shut with a clang. It held them momentarily, and he stumbled out to the streets. Gasping, he fell to his knees.


    The sun had been shining before. But now it was darker out here than it had been inside. Turning up, he saw the form of Typhos flaring into life. Innumerable tendrils that pained the eyes coiled around taller structures. Giant claws were perched upon the dome of the Sanctum.


    Sahshir forced himself to stand as best he could. He had to stop this abomination somehow. But how could he? What hope did he, a mere mortal, have against such a creature?


    The Sanctum''s dome cracked from the outside, and then many tentacles burst forth. The stones shattered as something indescribable arose. It had tendrils and millions of heads of all kinds. And from it came innumerable voices, screeching with incomprehensible glory.


    The veil was torn apart. Sahshir averted his eyes from the horror now coming fully into the world. It clambered over the buildings, spewing blood upon the ground. That blood soaked over the corpses, and the bodies grew. They sprouted tentacles or took on aspects of animals as they arose in new, twisted lives.


    Every one of them rushed toward the outside of the fortress. They paid no heed to Sahshir. He was beneath notice.


    Sahshir got back on his feet with some difficulty. But, he would not be overlooked. He would make this cosmic horror regret its arrogance.


    Snatching up his swords, he sprinted toward the nearest leg. Scaling up a building, stone by stone, he reached the top. As he did, the portion landed on the building. Rushing toward it, Sahshir leaped onto the leg and slashed at it with both swords. The blades cut deep, and the leg recoiled. He barely held on and stabbed the Blade of Chaos in the leg. From there, he pulled up and stabbed the Sword of Order higher up.


    In this way, he scaled up, stabbing and hacking. Only minor wounds were being dealt to this monstrosity. But a thousand flies could kill a lion.


    Beneath him, he saw Typhos pass over the walls. The horrors were streaming out of the gates toward the legions. Cries of horror came from them as they fled before the beasts. But one legionary stood tall, calling aloud to his brethren. Rallying as many as he could, he formed them into a line on a hill. There, they stood their ground, creating an island of order among the chaos. The men flocked to them or ran all the faster as they chose.


    Sahshir scaled higher, inflicting many more minor wounds. Tentacles surged at him from elsewhere, but he hacked them off. Now, he was near the body.


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    His muscles were burning. His every inch ached.


    Pulling himself onto the main body, he hacked with the Sword of Order at the leg. The first blow sank deep. The second cut bone. The third cut it off. An ocean of blackness spewed from the wound, and wherever it fell, vast forests grew out of the ground.


    Then, from the wound emerged another arm that twisted upwards so it clawed at him. Sahshir leaped away from the slash and sank the Blade of Chaos home. Then, as the hand reached for him, he slashed off three fingers.


    The arm twisted as tendrils grew from the bloodied stumps and slashed at him.


    One of them caught him in the hand. Sahshir felt a searing pain and fell backward. Looking at his hand, he saw two stumps and three fingers. He''d lost two of them and felt nothing. Clutching the wound, he realized as he fell that he must slow his fall, or he would die.


    Shifting his weight, he guided his descent and surged toward one of the legs. It was reaching for the still-fighting knot of legionnaires. Driving the Sword of Order in, he slowed his fall, slicing the arm in half lengthwise as he descended.


    Finally, he hit the ground. Drawing off his scarf, he wrapped the fabric around his bloodied stumps. Tying it tight, he took the Sword of Order in an underhand grip and rose.


    Looking around, he realized he was on the hill. The tides were washing against the legion remnants. Those who had fled were being overtaken. And the broken forms of Typhos'' arms began to shift and reform into monstrous serpents of bone. They surged toward the legion lines.


    Sahshir ran to aid them.


    Yes, they were his enemy. But they were men of order in their own way. They did not deserve to die in such a way. Their lines were now only two thick, which was for his benefit. He vaulted over them and began to slash and hack, dodging and weaving as he cut down monster after mother.


    One of the serpents of bone rose above him and snapped at him. He rolled away and half-cut through its neck with a downward stroke. It reeled back, bleeding fire. Sahshir slashed through the other half without a word. The turf around him was set aflame by the blood. As he passed it, he saw a wave of ice engulfing a nearby area.


    That same legionnaire had killed the other serpent. Now, he stood alone. Sahshir landed and fought his way toward him, hewing down many. Then, he came to him at last, and they covered for one another. Back to back, they made a wall of bodies wherever they went. And strange new plants grew as the blood of Typhos'' children spilled out over the ground.


    Soon, they were surrounded by a great forest of thorns that grabbed them.


    Hacking down the limbs of the trees as they went after them, they soon found themselves alone. Halting, Sahshir looked at the corpses and felt suddenly weak. He collapsed to one knee and looked up at his unexpected ally. The legionnaire looked at him.


    "I remember you," he said. "You landed upon that airship."


    "And you fought valiantly," said Sahshir. "Who are you?"


    "I am Marius of the Legions." said the man. "You?"


    "Abdul Sahshir," said Sahshir, resting on his blade. "Why?"


    "Why what?" asked Marius.


    "Why such butchery?" asked Sahshir. "You killed men, women, children."


    "We had no choice," said Marius. "Zigildrazia is a plague on our society. For a time, we thought we had limited her to Zigilus. But her cults were spreading throughout the cities."


    "And that justifies genocide?" asked Abdul.


    "The worshippers of Zigildrazia are savages," said Marius. "They kill children for being unpleasant to look upon. Babies are sacrificed in the fire in bloody orgies. They think nothing of it. There is not one good person among all the servants of Zigildrazia. Not one.


    "For she is the divine usurper. Of her sister and of Safara."


    "The Love Goddess," said Sahshir. "She resides in Ruscow."


    "Yes," said Marius. "And she is the rightful god of Dinis before you Calishans took her from us. In her absence, Zigildrazia filled the void. Now we see the results."


    "Your butchery created these horrors," said Sahshir.


    "Then it will end them as well," said Marius.


    "You are overconfident," said Sahshir. "The beast we fight is a god."


    "Actually," said Marius, "it is an avatar of a god."


    "What?" said Sahshir.


    "You did not seriously think that we mere mortals could deal true injury to such a being?" asked Marius. "What we face is a mere figment of Typhos'' true self. The bulk of her power lies dormant deep beneath the ruins of the west. No doubt, she will attempt to access that once we''re finished here.


    "Destroying the heart of Typhos was one of our goals." S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sahshir went cold. "...Do you have a plan?"


    Marius remained silent. "If we stab it enough, it may bleed out."


    "Let''s do that," said Sahshir. Yes, it was futile, but it was core to make plans around.


    They staggered out of the forest, hacking their way through the thorns. When they emerged, they saw the landscape shifting. The ground was sinking in as pools of green liquid filled them, steaming. Zigilus was shaking as great spires of rock rose in one place and another. Anyone left within was probably going to die.


    But the legion still fought on. There were only a few now, but they were surrounded by the corpses of the horrors. Several broken limbs of Typhos were around them. How?


    Sahshir looked and saw the Sword of Order gleaming. Had the blade inspired them? Or was this something else?


    But Typhos remained on high. She had withdrawn her limbs and was merely swirling high above. Sahshir tried to make out her core head, the one giving the commands. But there didn''t seem to be one. And she will be transforming this place.


    He and Marius hurried toward the battle, but it seemed to be winding down. The horrors had ceased to rush. Only a few legionaries remained, a paltry remnant of a once magnificent army. But they cheered when Marius returned.


    "Tribune Marius," said one, "we feared the worst."


    "Well done, all of you," said Marius. "With this man''s aid, we triumphed. Once we have secured this place, we will ascend into Zigilus and finish our work, once and for all." He paused. "Where is General Ariadus?"


    "He fled." said a man. "I saw him fleeing with the others."


    "No, he didn''t," said another, "he was trying to rally the deserters."


    "If the latter, he may return to aid us. If the former, he will stand in shame," said Marius. "But, we will finish our work here, nonetheless."


    Sahshir was impressed with his determination. Less so with his intelligence. Above them, Typhos arose into the sky and was gone from sight.

 Chapter 69 - Twenty-four: Ascension

    The men looked warily at Sahshir as he approached. Most of them were wounded in one way or another. Many were lying about being tended to. But they had formed around a golden standard shaped like a honey badger.


    A formidable animal for formidable men. Even Baltoth knew to fear the Calishan Honey Badger, for one had nearly slain him.


    "How do we know we can trust this Kalthakian?" asked a man, one of the few who were not wounded.


    "He is no enemy of Zigilus, Amus. And we need help," said Marius.


    "How can we hope to seize Zigilus now?" asked Amus. "We have saved the standard, but the fortress still stands."


    "We must make an attempt," said Marius. "It may be that they have suffered as desperately as we have. Can we wait for the others?"


    "It may be days before he returns," said Arus. "And I do not think we have that long."


    "Then, we must complete our mission before that happens," said Marius. "We will press on once we are ready."


    Marius'' eyes fell on Sahshir''s hand. Sahshir shifted as he did. "You are injured. Let my healer tend to you."


    "I would appreciate that," said Sahshir.


    Marius turned to one of his men. "You, where is Akius, the physician?"


    An older man hurried forward, carrying a staff on which he supported himself. His skin had several scars, and his eyes were one of a man who had seen too much. Sahshir had seen the like among Asim''s older warriors. "Here, sir."


    "See to his injuries at once. We cannot afford to lose anyone to them," said Marius.


    Akius nodded, and Sahshir sat down on a stone. As the man drew near, he looked out over the twisted landscape. Monstrous creatures began to ride out of the ground but did not attack. Instead, they wandered away as new plants grew up to shield them. Typhos'' wrath seemed to have turned elsewhere.


    "Let me see your hand, boy; I may be able to heal it," said Akius.


    Sahshir drew off the scarf and pulled off one of his gloves. He felt a little pain from the sumps. Akius'' eyes widened as he sat on the flesh, covered in boils. "...What happened to you, boy?"


    "A curse from Laevian, long ago," said Sahshir.


    "My sympathies. I will see what I can do," said Akius.


    His spells healed the wounds, and much of Sahshir''s pains and aches were recovered. Yet the fingers did not regrow. As the man worked, Marius moved up to him. "With such an injury, how did you fight?"


    "I don''t feel my body as I once did," said Sahshir. "This only gives me a mild ache."


    "What brought her wrath upon you?" asked Akius. "Laevian uses such curses only rarely."


    "Nothing I did," said Sahshir. "It was a curse on my father. All his sons in every incarnation are cursed with it. It took effect when he became who he was.


    "Then, he left."


    "...I remember your name now," said Marius. "You are the one known as the Leper Prince?"


    Sahshir felt injured at the name. "I am called so."


    Akius shook his head. "This infection is beyond my abilities. It fights against all efforts to restore the flesh. With time, I might deal with it. However, there are other injured men I must see to."


    "No matter," Sahshir rose up. His mouth was parched. "Do you have water?"


    Someone passed him a canteen. Opening it, he drank deeply. The sensation of the water going down her throat was heavenly. He passed it back to Marius gratefully.


    Then he arose and took hold of the Sword of Order. It filled him with power again. Now, he felt healthier than before, more focused on his journey. He had killed many foul enemies and slain monstrosities. Yet he did not want this to be his only legacy.


    "Now, we go to Zigilus," said Marius. "To finish our task. Prepare to move out, men!"


    Sahshir stood as they walked. His eyes gazed over the surroundings as they entered the unholy realm. "I believe you should let the remaining citizens live."


    "Madness," said Marius. "Why would we ever do that?"


    An appeal to mercy was worthless. "You lack the manpower to kill them all. They have been betrayed by their god and left to die."


    "Even so, we must attempt to purge them," said Marius.


    Sahshir remained silent. An idea occurred. "Would your mission be fulfilled if they fled to a separate country?"


    "...Yes," said Marius after a moment.


    "Then I will offer them all shelter," said Sahshir. "And you will let them go. In exchange, you will give them time to gather supplies."


    "Why would you do this?" asked Marius.


    Because a dependent group of refugees could be valuable to him. "My land is small. The other population may help, and they must change to survive."


    "They may change you," said Marius.


    "Baltoth''s will cannot be defied. Only appeased," said Sahshir.


    Marius said nothing.


    Together, they scaled gradually up toward the gates. By now, they were overgrown with thorny vines. Six black pillars had arisen like teeth on either side. And standing amid the gate were Narcissa and Alkela. They were a motley bunch, and many among them were injured. But they numbered nearly as many as the legionnaires, and more were coming.


    The two stood silent, with a large force of the remaining defenders. Their weapons were out. Narcissa raised her axe. "You will not pass."


    "I remember this one. She killed many of our men," said Marius as his men formed up.


    "Stay where you are if you don''t want it to be more," said Sahshir. "Stand down, Narcissa. Your cause is hopeless."


    "Hardly. I think we can take out the rest of you," said Narcissa.


    "Even if we fall, another legion will come and avenge us," said Marius.


    "Maybe, but we won''t go gently-" began Narcissa.


    "Or you can both live," said Sahshir. "I am a Prince of Kalthak, soon to be a king. So I wish to offer your people shelter in my domain as a display of good faith."


    The people eyed him. "You''re our enemy. Why would you help us?"


    Sahshir shifted and thought about the question. He didn''t actually feel sad at the deaths that had happened, nor would he have any great regret if these died. "I feel a moral obligation to protect you from extermination. Stay here, and Dinis will wipe you out. Gather your people and follow me, and you may have a chance.


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    "What keeps you here? Garacel sacrificed you on Typhos'' altar."


    Their eyes were distant and blank. As if they had become the background to a picture without an identity of their own. "We exist for Zigildrazia."


    "Have you considered existing for something else?" asked Sahshir.


    "You''re one to talk, Calishan," hissed a man. "Your kind live and die for Baltoth."


    "I serve Baltoth because I choose to. Now-" Then he stopped.


    Rage filled him. These wrangling fools had tested his patience long enough. He would kill them, strike them down where they stand! But, no, what was this sensation? He heard murmurs of anger from both sides. Men raised their swords as the glare intensified.


    "Wretched woman!" cried Marius. "What treachery is this?! Speak, or I''ll cut your eyes from your head!"


    "Kill the worshippers of Zigildrazia! Kill them all!" cried a man.


    "Death to Dinis!" cried one of Narcissa''s men.


    Sahshir stabbed the Sword of Order into the ground. There was a flash of white, and the feeling departed. Sahshir felt Baltoth''s will within him. "Hold!


    "Come to your senses! This is a spell!"


    "Indeed it is." said a very familiar voice.


    A figure of darkness descended from high and landed between them. Then, finally, the night cleared, and Sahshir saw before him a lone man. He was tall and was the fairest creature Sahshir had ever gazed upon. His skin was dark as night but without blemish, and his body was the epitome of perfection. The man''s eyes were glowing pink, and he stood with perfect poise, clad only in a white skirt that led to his knees.


    "Master Garacel?" said Narcissa.


    "Indeed, I am Narcissa. The man rose to his full height. He laughed, his glowing eyes blazing. "I feel! Flesh and blood! The sensation of the ground on my feet, the wind on my face! The scent of endless carnage!


    "How I have missed it!" Then he raised a hand, and armor formed upon his body, identical to what he had once possessed. The Blade of Chaos appeared in his hand as his face was covered. "This is the beginning for me! And the end for many others!


    "Would any care to dispute me?"


    Sahshir shifted. He had never thought Garacel would be so majestic in appearance. It mattered not. "How is this possible? I killed you."


    "You destroyed my physical body," said Garacel. "But Zigildrazia fulfilled her promise. And Typhos was grateful for my service to her." He took a stance. "Now, I will finish this, once and for all."


    Sahshir glanced back as he took a stance. "Step back, Marius. He is mine."


    Marius shrugged. "By all means, save me the casualties."


    Sahshir moved forward, and Garacel mirrored the motion. They circled one another, but Sahshir noticed something. Garacel was spinning the blade in his hand, leaving openings as if experimenting.


    Sahshir rushed him. Bringing around his sword, he found it parried. Garacel thrust in a counterattack that nearly impaled him through the head. A flurry of blows passed between them before Garacel vaulted over him, kicking him in the back. It sent Sahshir to the ground, and he narrowly rolled away before the blade was driven into the ground.


    He parried a strike and fought a losing battle against Garacel. Gradually, Sahshir was driven around the plateau and up against the cliff''s edge. He was fighting for his life for a moment, and then he found his strength growing. Something had taken hold of him. Even now, his blade was moving faster, with stronger strokes.


    Yet, Garacel increased at the same time. A glow emanated from the Blade of Chaos and the Sword of Order as they fought. Soon, it was blinding, and yet Sahshir could see. He felt now more like he was the sword in the hand of a warrior than in his own right.


    Garacel was forced back. He flipped his silver hair around him as he drew back his blade. A smile was on his face.


    "A duel between gods, is it?" said Sahshir''s wielder.


    "Baltoth?" asked Garacel. "Baltoth, is that you?! Excellent! I have been looking forward to killing you in some form for ages! Ending the existence of your Disciples'' son is beyond a good start!" Then, wings grew from his back like a hawk, and he surged into the air. As he did, he raised the Blade of Chaos skyward. Tendrils of green energy poured down from above as the blade glowed white-hot. "Death to the Archon of Pride! Glory to Valranor!"


    Sahshir found himself rising into the air to meet the creature. Wings like those of a back had grown from him as his hands became akin to claws. He now saw through a white glow as he surged to meet Garacel.


    Garacel charged down, and they clashed in midair. Sahshir used Garacel''s momentum to send him spiraling toward the ground. But the god twisted with absolute grace and redirected himself to charge again.


    They clashed again and again.


    As they did, Sahshir felt hatred welling deep in his heart. This man had invaded his city. Sacrificed so many, and for what? He attacked with greater violence, and his hatred only increased as he saw Garacel''s smile.


    Garacel weaved and dodged away. "I''ll admit, Baltoth. You''re putting up a better fight than I expected! You were always among the weakest of the Demonic Archons in direct combat! But I wouldn''t have it any other way!"


    "You are a mad dog, aren''t you, Garacel?" said Sahshir, but it was not his voice. Instead, it was an aspect of Baltoth himself, acting through him. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Mad?" Garacel laughed. "Perhaps I am, but it is a madness of your making!


    "Ages! Ages trapped beneath the earth! It''s laboring to send my spirit out of the mine! And for what, for stealing the love of one of your lays for the night!"


    "I loved her," replied Baltoth, voice cold as ice. "All that I have built has been in her honor. I knew that she did not return my feelings, and I accepted it. But you twisted her and transformed it into hatred." He slashed, but Garacel moved beyond his reach.


    He is always beyond his reach.


    "You did most of the work yourself," said Garacel. "Or do you imagine she held you in anything but contempt? I felt her mind. You were never anything more than an attack dog to her."


    "You lie," said Baltoth, voice cold.


    He surged forward, but Garacel moved aside. This time, he nearly took his head off. Sahshir winced as he felt a slash on his shoulder. Wheeling back, his left arm went limp, and his right was fighting defensively.


    "Do I?" asked Garacel. "You cloaked yourself in the trapping of order for so long that you''ve forgotten what you were born of. Pride.


    "It was not for the sake of people, real or imagined, that you laid low the Dust Elven Empires. It was to appease your pride. You would have gladly taken up the domain of chaos if Valranor had wielded that instead.


    "You sought to place yourself above gods and demons. And you killed everyone who got in your way for pride''s sake. You exploited weakness and tore down what others built! You ripped their self-image apart until they convinced themselves you did it for them!


    "You were a mad dog long before I was, Baltoth!


    "She spoke soft words to you, seduced you, then sent you toward her enemies! You never mattered to her at all!"


    The damn broke. Sahshir''s knee moved up and hit Garacel in the face. He reeled backward, and Baltoth pressed his attack. He was now fighting as a berserker, hacking and slashing. "A thousand ages beneath the earth would be too good for you, Garacel!


    "CALISHA WILL BE AVENGED!!!"


    He surged forward, and all his hatred and anger was poured out. Garacel was sent careening down toward the ground, and Sahshir was after him. They grappled, tearing and slashing at each other before finally hitting the ground. The land howled beneath their conflict as a red hand appeared in the skies above. It was blotting out the newly rising sun.


    Sahshir was thrown down and hit the ground as Garacel rose, drawing back his sword. Sahshir snatched up his sword and parried the blow. Garacel flew backward, circling around to charge forward.


    Then Narcissa interposed herself between them. Garacel veered off, sliding to a halt, as Sahshir realized the obvious. Baltoth was filled with silent fury. But he mastered himself and calculated innumerable plans. Then, he chose to wait.


    "Why do you stand between him and me, Narcissa?" asked Garacel.


    "I need him," said Narcissa. "If you kill him, we''ll be wiped out. He''s offered us sanctuary in his kingdom. If we stay here, we''ll all die. Please, Master Garacel! We need him!"


    Baltoth withdrew his wrath. Sahshir remained where he was for a moment, waiting as Garacel sheathed the Blade of Chaos. If he killed Garacel now, he could seize it back. But Sahshir was exhausted. He was more likely to be killed here.


    And he had no time to die. He had more important matters to attend to.


    The transformation upon both of them faded away. Sahshir managed to remain standing despite it. To his silent anger, Garacel showed no signs of exhaustion. He doubted he would have been victorious if that battle had gone on further. Of course, victory had been conceivable but not worth the risk.


    Of course, Garacel regarded this as a victory. And it was, in some sense, one for him. He had regained his former self, but doing so had been necessary. Zigildrazia had lost her primary agent''s unconditional fealty. Typhos had been wounded in battle and forced to withdraw, destroying many of her broods.


    Garacel turned the Blade of Chaos into a replica of his earlier katana as he slid it into a sheath. "Very well, then. I have had the satisfaction of victory. Nevertheless, I will spare your life for the sake of Narcissa and her people."


    "If you ever threaten my people again, you will die for it," said Sahshir, refusing to let himself fall to one knee. Although it hurt.


    "So long as my servants are treated well, you need not fear that," said Garacel. "Besides, I contend with higher powers." And he faded into pink smoke, tinged with pure blackness. All that remained were several hawk feathers.


    No doubt, Zigildrazia was crowing about how all had gone according to her plan. Perhaps Typhos had yet to take notice of Sahshir''s attack. He might have been no more than an insect beneath the gaze of higher powers. He was incapable of influencing events in any measure. To thwart their will might be like holding back the sea with a bucket. Or for a single grain of sand to resist the foot pressed upon it.


    Sahshir couldn''t care less, to be honest.


    If Zigildrazia wanted to pretend this was her victory, she could have her delusions. Dinis had been weakened, Zigilus had been destroyed, and Baltoth stood triumphant. Best of all, despite his enemies dying, Baltoth still had the moral high ground. All by demonstrating more care for their citizens than they did. Just because his victory was not as total as it could have been changed, nothing.


    Perhaps his actions had been but a pinprick. But a pinprick at the right time and place could be a fatal distraction. If the wound became infected, one could die from it all the same. Even so, none of that was of any further consequence. Sahshir had gotten what he wanted. None would dare speak the name of Leper Prince to him now.


    "What about the Blade of Chaos?" asked Narcissa suddenly.


    "What of it?" asked Sahshir flatly. "The sword is irrelevant. Only the wielder matters." Then he sheathed his own blade and went to get something to eat.

 Chapter 70 - Epilogue

    Sahshir was in a good mood now that it was all over. Of course, a few more enemies could be dead, but he wasn''t complaining.


    It was a serene day within a grove on the city''s outskirts. The flames had been removed, and reconstruction was only the beginning. From where he kneeled with his sword over his knees, Sahshir sensed the work.


    It would be challenging, but adding those he had brought with him was helping. Moreover, the refugees had come when manpower was badly needed. So, for now, they were tolerated.


    "...Then, I returned here," he finished.


    Kushina sipped her tea, waiting. She still wore a few bandages but was making a full recovery. "You seem remarkably calm, given that you more or less failed to accomplish anything of note."


    "Don''t be foolish," said Sahshir. "Tuor, Zigildrazia, Typhos, and Dinis all combined their might for a singular purpose. They were destroying Dinis. And yet they failed. I saved many of the citizens.


    "An avatar of the God Typhos manifested directly without the world, and I wounded it. So much so that it was forced to withdraw."


    "So, you regard this as a victory?" asked Kushina, looking surprised.


    "Of course," said Sahshir. "Had I not slipped onto that airship, all within Zigilus would be dead. But, because I was present, by Baltoth''s will, some were saved. Nor would the Grail of Immortality have been retrieved.


    "What if I hadn''t confronted the Legions? All within Zigilus would have perished. And with them, many brave men among the legions. Likewise, had I not destroyed Typhos'' heart, she might have arisen in greater power.


    "And when she manifested directly in the world, I cut one of her limbs from her body. I achieved what I wanted; the Blade of Chaos is ours again."


    "I suppose if your standards are low enough, anything can be victory," mused Kushina.


    "And what would you have considered a victory?" asked Sahshir. "If I killed Zigildrazia, Typhos, and Garacel by myself? Three gods, whose proper form would destroy the minds of those who gazed on them? Me? Is an inexperienced warrior fresh from his first battle?


    "Survival alone should have been worthy of song. But, as things stand, I am well enough content to have bloodied their noses."


    "A fair point," said Kushina with a laugh. "So, how was the return journey?"


    Sahshir shrugged. "Easier than I expected. The legions left behind vast numbers of supplies, and we were able to take many of them as part of our deal with Marius. We saw no more signs of Typhos. And the Blade was quiet."


    "I expect she destroyed her avatar once she had finished what she set out to do," said Kushina. "She could hardly afford to keep it alive as things stand. She is a pale mockery of a true deity and will be until she regains herself. That may never happen.


    "Her Avatar allowed her will to manifest once again. If she can find allies, she will go west."


    "Why west?" asked Narcissa, who now wore concealing white robes.


    "To Artarq," guessed Sahshir.


    Kushina nodded. "Yes. Most of Typhos'' spirit has been cut off from her and sealed far to the west. However, the ruins were long ago lost. I doubt the Harlenorians will just let her return, however.


    "It isn''t any of our concern now, of course."


    "Then why did she stay to fight at all?" asked Narcissa.


    "For publicity, of course," said Kushina.


    "Publicity?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes," said Kushina. "Had she disappeared into the night, there may have been some rumors, but the focus would have been on the battle. However, she reshaped the whole landscape and destroyed an army by doing what she did.


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    "From now on, anyone who looks at those lands will think of Typhos. That is a faith of a kind, and it will lend her strength. So far and wide, people will know that Typhos has returned."


    "So what can we do?" asked Sahshir.


    Kushina shrugged. "Educate people as to how weak she truly is. Preach that what appeared above was the last gasp of a dying god."


    "That is well for you to say," said Sahshir, annoyed at her downplaying his accomplishments. "But you weren''t there."


    "I suppose I was not," said Kushina. "Still, I have some questions of my own. First, why did you invite them into Kalthak?" Her gaze turned to Narcissa, who averted her eyes.


    "I felt Baltoth desired it," said Sahshir. "And had I not let them in, they all would have died.


    "I have already made arrangements."


    "Yes," said Narcissa, "as soon as Sahshir is coronated, the leads of my people will pledge loyalty to him. And only him."


    "Ah, I see," said Kushina. "So it was politics." sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I also feel that it would be best to keep Amysta close," said Sahshir. "No offense."


    Narcissa bit her lip. "None taken."


    Kushina shrugged. "I can''t say I would have done the same. But you are in luck. The Emperor sent messages before your arrival, commanding us to receive them. So, I expect he was working through you.


    "Though I do not see his purpose in all this." Then she looked at Narcissa. "And perhaps through others."


    "Tell me, how is my father?" asked Sahshir.


    Kushina sighed. "Absent, as usual.


    "He has received some essential news that drew him west to Ruscow. Lightning Trail has been drawn, and the Heir of Kings has declared herself ahead of schedule."


    "Her?" asked Sahshir.


    "What''s the Heir of Kings?" asked Narcissa.


    "The heir of Anoa the Bright, a great hero of the west," said Kushina. "The Harlenorians believe that he will one day kill Baltoth. And there are prophecies to support their beliefs.


    "And yes, Sahshir, it is a girl. By no means, a great warrior, but the name alone could be a threat."


    "Then we should kill her," said Sahshir.


    "I believe that is why Tuor went to Ruscow," said Kushina. "To discuss strategy. Unfortunately, other complications make the whole thing difficult. Baltoth has plans for Harlenor, and killing her at this stage may cause more problems than it will solve."


    "How is that even possible?" asked Sahshir. "Baltoth himself may die if she is not destroyed."


    "Peace, Sahshir," said Kushina. "You must learn to have faith in the Inexorable One. He has schemes within schemes, and they are in motion even now.


    "You may yet have an important part to play in them.


    "I''m certain of it." She sat back down and poured herself another cup of tea. "Two gods have manifested, and the world''s monsters have roused from a long slumber. I have gazed far afield and seen them rise. Already, news has reached me of chimeras and hydras emerging.


    "There will be much work ahead for us."


    There was silence.


    "...Garacel has returned?" said Narcissa.


    Kushina narrowed her eyes. "I did say that before. Are you hard of hearing?"


    "What is his domain?" asked Narcissa. "I know he was the Lover Eternal, but that has been taken from him by that goddess, Safara."


    Kushina shrugged. "It is possible that the domain is contested. Such things have happened in the past. He may well be Lord of Hatred, or at least filling the role. The post has been absent for some time, and he is a relation of the one who held it.


    "Hatred and love are brothers. Both lead to obsession. Both have you lying awake at night, thinking of one without regard for you. Both can consume you.


    "Or perhaps revenge instead.


    "This is mere speculation, of course. The ancient wars led to many fatalities among the lesser gods. And not all were replaced. Nevertheless, I expect he will return one day soon.


    "Do you intend to wield that axe still?"


    Narcissa raised the blade in one hand. She kept it with her always. "...I can''t get rid of it. I tried to throw it away but had to return for it. I feel like it is a part of me. Anyway, it''s a perfect weapon."


    "I''m certain it is," said Kushina. "However, I suggest you stay out of conflict for now.


    "The new clothes I had sent to your people, have they begun to wear them?"


    "Yes," said Narcissa. "We don''t have much choice in this place. How can you bear to have all this covering you?" She pulled at her robes.


    "I''ve never known anything else," said Sahshir. "In any case, enforce upon them that concealment is essential in this place. Then, if you hope to dwell within our domain, you will adapt our customs."


    "I understand," said Narcissa.


    At that moment, Schzara rushed out of the bushes. "Big sister, could you help me with my archery?"


    Kushina sighed. "One moment, Schzara, I''ll be there." She rose. "If you''ll excuse me, I''ve got things to attend to."


    "As do we all," said Sahshir.


    Life was good.

 Chapter 71 - Book 4: The Dark Dreamer

    And that wraps up the first book of Abdul Sahshir''s story. This installment was something of an accident. I was trying to write something new and decided to set it within the land of Calisha in the far east. Tuor was envisioned then as the first character to appear, and later Sahshir.


    Sahshir becomes the antithesis of the traditional hero in many ways. He tends towards violence, causes problems for him, and a vengeful streak. He is, by nature, a protagonist on borrowed time. The disease that is slowly killing him drives him to excel. It leads him to undertake quests for reckless glory.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Yet there are hints that Sahshir is more measured than he first appears.


    Consequently, Sahshir is far more efficient with his time than Relma or William. Neither has come anywhere near his feats in this first book.


    However, we will be getting back to William in the next story. We''ll pick up on how he and Kiyora have been doing and what became of the demoness Arraxia. And we may, at last, meet Vanion Gabriel. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 72 - Prologue: The Awakening

    In the depths of hell, the screams of damned souls never stopped. From the pools of blood and fire, something evil reached out. Its spirit had been at war with itself for some months. The horror of its true self had torn its mind asunder. Yet, though the reason was gone, its will remained. That will be reached around for the lost fragments of itself.


    Fragments long since cast aside now gave it a mirror. A picture of itself. With that realization, it began to reconstruct who it was and what had led to this moment.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It had not yet recovered itself. It was not the being it saw in the reflection. Yet it knew that it would return to that state in time.


    Soon, cruel thoughts filled its mind, and it stretched out, willing them to life. But, through them, it would return and spread destruction once again.


    Through them, it would achieve its vengeance. Through them, it would be whole once more. The Dark Dreamer had returned.

 Chapter 73 - One: Divinity as Usual

    It was pouring rain in Seathorius. The wind blew through Kiyora''s hair and looked very dramatic. But she didn''t feel the cold. That was one of the fringe benefits of being a goddess in her dreams. So she went through the endless forests, and the trees yielded to her, speeding her. Then, she finally came to a rock wall and found the door.


    Of course, it didn''t look like a door. The Nakmar were good at disguising their halls. Kiyora had to figure out where to press down on the wall to get it open, and then it slid aside for her. As she walked through, she illuminated the darkness within. Her inner light was another fringe benefit. With a yawn, she stretched as the door shut behind her, and several guards approached.


    They took one look at her and knelt before her at once. "Queen Kiyora, this is an unexpected pleasure. How may we serve you?"


    "Right back at you," said Kiyora. "For some reason, I''m not waking up on schedule, and I was wondering if you needed any help?"


    "Erm, well, I am certain you could find someone," said the guard. "High Priest Bjorn is here if you wish to speak with him."


    "Great, take me to him," said Kiyora.


    She found Bjorn inside a library reading a record of her various exploits. The old dwarf had his braided white beard flowing over his lap. His eyes were scanning over the words. He looked up as she came in. "Ah, I apologize, Dreaming Goddess. I am not as young as I once was. I did not hear you enter."


    "Don''t worry about it," said Kiyora. "Need any help?"


    "There is something," said Bjorn. He put down his book and stood. "I have gathered together the priests for your new temple. And I have made arrangements for them to go by sea to Artarq. They are waiting at Port Otter for transport to become available.


    "However, with the war on, I''m afraid the Calishans will attack them at sea as soon as they get out of port. I would like you to convince Duke Vanion to provide them with an escort.


    "Okay, sure," said Kiyora. "Anything else?''


    "I''m afraid not much comes to mind," said Bjorn, looking tired. "Things have been very peaceful since that demoness replaced Melchious. She has stopped raiding us completely."


    "And that''s not suspicious at all..." muttered Kiyora. "Bjorn, send out some scouts and figure out what she''s plotting. I don''t like this."


    "I already did, and I have meant to tell you," said Bjorn. "She has begun to rebuild Baltoth''s Retribution. There are packs of satyrs working to mend its fallen spires daily."


    "Wait a minute, I thought she didn''t have any followers in that region," said Kiyora.


    "Melchious didn''t," said Bjorn. "She has her operations. And she has been converting the satyrs who once served Laughing Wraith."


    A shadow fell on the room, and Kiyora felt a sense of urgency. Someone somewhere needed her help. She received these appeals every so often. They got annoying, but she couldn''t afford to ignore them. "Okay, hang on, I''ve got a call for help. Be right back."


    And she transported herself away in a flash of light.


    She found herself in a dark wood. One of the few remaining dark woods since Laughing Wraith had bit the dust. She could hear the sound of sobbing and followed it. A little later, she found a young satyr child sobbing against a tree. They had orangish fur and were small for their kind.


    "Why are you crying?" asked Kiyora.


    "I... I was supposed to watch the sheep, but one of them wandered off," said the boy. "I can''t find her. And if I lose one, Father is sure to beat me."


    "Well, hang on," said Kiyora before looking at the trees. "Excuse me, I don''t mean to intrude, but I need your help. I''m looking for a stray sheep. Could you direct it back to this boy?"


    "I''m a girl," said the satyr.


    "Oh, sorry, I uh..." said Kiyora. Of course, she would say that all satyrs looked alike, but that would be racist.


    The tree answered. It was afraid of her. It remembered what had happened the last time their kind had tangled with her. So it agreed at once. Kiyora sensed it was afraid of being set on fire and felt guilty. "Thanks."


    "You can talk to trees?" asked the girl.


    "My people can do it easily," said Kiyora. "I guess that''s weird to you."


    "I''ve heard about you." said the girl. "Is it true you killed Laughing Wraith?"


    "Yep," said Kiyora. "Fried him to a crisp."


    "I didn''t know anyone could hurt Laughing Wraith." said the girl. "Father says he is immortal."


    "Of course not," said Kiyora, looking to change the subject. "Hey, there is your sheep." And she pointed as out of the trees came a woolly sheep which approached. The girl cried with delight and ran to him.


    "Rundas!" she cried. "Rundas, I''m so glad you''re okay!"


    "Yes, I''m sure he''ll make an excellent spread on the dinner table," said Kiyora.


    "We keep them for the wool," said the girl. "We don''t eat them much. Father says we should try to eat dwarves more than sheep. See, sheep can give us something, and dwarves kill us."


    "Oh, I see," said Kiyora, ruffling her hair. "Do you know the way back?"


    "Of course, Dreaming Goddess!" said the girl, picking the sheep up. "I''ll take him back right away!"


    And she raced out.


    "That girl is going to grow up to be a serial killer, isn''t she?" said Kiyora, glancing up at the trees. As she did, a shadow moved in the corner of her eye. She turned to look after it and peered into the darkness of the wood. For a moment, she thought she saw the flicker of a shape, tall and slender.


    But it must have been a trick of the light. When she illuminated that place, she saw nothing. Then, looking back up to the trees, she sighed. "...Make sure the kid gets back home safely. I need to meet someone."


    She had meant to have this meeting for some time but had never gotten around to it. For one thing, she wasn''t used to having a set schedule as a goddess. Up until recently, she had mostly been doing random good deeds. So it was only recently that it dawned on her that she might have other responsibilities.


    The place she appeared next had once been a majestic castle. Now, it was a worksite in a broken-down ruin. When she and William last saw it, not one stone remained on top of another; for the most part, that still held. But scaffoldings had been erected in several places, and satyrs were everywhere. The sound of hammers on chisels could be heard wherever she went. Stones were being moved by hand or in carts.


    A lone satyr stumbled as he carried a heavy load. A taskmaster saw him and was on him with a whip in seconds. He struck the poor creature twice.


    "Keep working, you beasts!" roared a taskmaster.


    Kiyora reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Hi."


    The taskmaster turned to her with fury in his eyes. Then he saw her. He trembled in fear and tore himself out of her grip. From there, he ran screaming as fast as his hooves could carry him. The other satyrs saw her and trembled in fear. It made sense. She had killed their god.


    Then, unafraid, one sizeable white-furred satyr came forward with two long scimitars. "Begone from this place, Dreaming Goddess! This domain is not yours!"


    A shadow, different in kind and shape from the other she had seen, arose over him as he spoke. It was in the form of a girl Kiyora''s age. "Peace, Doltier. We must be courteous." She paused. "Ah, the Dreaming Goddess, come to visit. What a wonderful thing to meet with you again. I was truly grieved by how our last meeting went, I assure you."


    "Grieved?" asked Kiyora. "How?"


    "You and dear William are still alive, of course," she said as though it were the friendliest thing to say. "All things go according to my infallible will, so there is no cause for concern. In truth, I was wondering when you would show up."


    Kiyora decided not to dignify that with a response while she looked at the work in progress. They had gotten the outer walls to put back together, but none of the towers had been completed. "Wow, you''re going all out with this construction project, right?"


    There was a twinge of irritation from the demoness. "Well, thanks to you, I did have my castle completely obliterated. I''ll have to repair it."


    "It looks nice. What will you do with completely broken stones?" asked Kiyora. The stones seemed almost to be jumping back into the places they fell. Obviously, this place would be fixed much faster than was expected.


    "Oh, I''m having my stonemasons reform the stone back into its original form." said the demoness. "Any stonemason worth his salt has people in his pay who can meld stone. I want this place just as it was before. Though perhaps in a different color. Now let us get down to business, hmm?"


    "Business?" asked Kiyora. "I''m here because I''m curious." Of course, she was lying; she didn''t want to seem too eager.


    "Oh, I''m well aware of that." said the demoness. "Far be it from me to presume you possess such an ugly thing as forethought. However, there is a small matter. Some of your trees have been attacking the construction. It''s getting quite tiresome, you know."


    "The last time we met, you tried to kill William and me," said Kiyora. "Why wouldn''t I want them to attack you?"


    "I haven''t been attacking you, have I?" asked the demoness. "I have no interest in your destruction at this time."


    "Which means you want to backstab me when the time is right," muttered Kiyora. "Fine, I''ll call off my trees. But I want something in return." sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "And what could be of greater importance to you than the cessation of this terrible war?" asked the demoness. "A war which even now ravages our subjects. Have you no sympathy for the innocents even now consumed?"


    "Could you be more transparently insincere?" asked Kiyora in turn.


    "Of course. It amuses me to conceal my true intentions." said the demoness with a straight face. "You would be surprised at how little I care about other people. Name your price."


    "Hmm, well, Bjorn kept going about some kickass mirror or something. That thing which zapped me before" muttered Kiyora. "I''ll take that."


    The demoness halted. "You ask a great deal, don''t you?"


    "Yep," said Kiyora.


    "You don''t even remember what it does." said the demoness. "Why do you even want it?"


    "Take it or leave it. I want the Mirror of Laevian. If you deliver it to King Houndslasher, I''ll let you finish building this castle. Or whatever it is," said Kiyora.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    "Let me?" asked the demoness with a laugh.


    "Well, let''s face it. One word from me, and I could have this whole hillside torn down," said Kiyora. "It''s great being friends with the trees."


    "Oh, of course." intoned the demoness with apparent sarcasm. "Your might is beyond compare, and I am but an insignificant worm beside your majesty."


    "Look, are you taking the deal?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes, I have no further use for the Mirror of Laevian anyway," muttered the demoness. "I already beheld in myself the true sovereign of all creation. Indeed, my ascension is inevitable, having been written before the stars were conceived."


    "William said you ran screaming from the room in agony," said Kiyora.


    "An entirely jaundiced account." said the demoness. "It was derived from the delusions of a man attempting to deny the reality of my majesty. Do give William my regards."


    "Whatever," said Kiyora, turning to walk away. "Have fun with your god complex."


    She decided she would go and visit William. There may be better weather in Artarq. Kiyora appeared within the training grounds of the palace of the capital city of Arsheen. The keep soared skyward above their heads, and the ivory walls hemmed them in. She didn''t see William anywhere, but she did see soldiers in black armor. Lots and lots of soldiers. They locked shields in ranks of four, and they were marching. Many spear points were bristling out from between their shields.


    Observing them was a very tall woman, hands clutching a spear before her. Her golden hair was long and wavy, and she had blue eyes. Her tunic was white and clung to her. Usually, when she did this, she wore full armor. Then again, human pregnancies lasted nine months. Kiyora''s species took about twice that time. But despite her bulging belly, she held a terrifying grace. As Kiyora approached her, she tried not to feel afraid.


    "Hey, uh... Lady Azgora?" said Kiyora.


    "Yes, Dreaming Goddess," said Azgora. "What may I do for you?" Her question held none of the deference with which the Nakmar treated her. Nor did it contain any familiarity with which William or his father regarded her. Kiyora felt she was considered more a curiosity than a credible player in her own right.


    "Well, I was just looking for your son. Do you know where he is?" asked Kiyora.


    "William is in the house of Rusara, practicing his magic," said Azgora. "It is an admirable determination that has possessed him of late."


    "Right," said Kiyora. "Hey, mind if I ask a question?"


    "Yes, what is it?" asked Azgora.


    "William told me that Raynald is in charge of instructing the troops," said Kiyora. "So, why are you here?"


    "Witherarm is a dangerous warrior, but he lacks a shield arm," said Azgora. "He cannot learn to fight in a phalanx formation, let alone teach others to do so. Instead, he is charged with instructing knights in the ways of the sword."


    "Right, good point," said Kiyora. "Still... where has he been? I haven''t seen him around the last few times I''ve visited."


    "He was sent on a mission by my husband. He has been raiding Calishan shipping lanes. He hopes to distract Baltoth from his invasion plans," said Azgora. "I''m told he has caused quite a lot of damage, though Argath Marn has proved a more ruthless raider."


    "Oh, cool," Kiyora paused. "So, uh... where exactly is the house of Rusara?"


    "It is likely for the best if I have someone lead you there," said Azgora. "Arsheen is not a city one should travel unescorted."


    "I''m a goddess," said Kiyora.


    "Even gods may get lost," said Azgora with what might have been amusement. "Felix."


    Kiyora suddenly realized that Felix had been standing nearby the whole time. Somehow, the Calishan boy had escaped her notice. His hair was longer than the last time she had seen him. He''d also gotten taller in the past few months, though he was still thin as a rail. "Yes, Lady Rusara?"


    "Escort the Dreaming Goddess to the house of Rusara," said Azgora. "She would speak with my son."


    "As you wish," said Felix. "Come, I''ll take you by all the swiftest ways."


    The city of Arsheen varied a lot. Kiyora hadn''t been in it herself very much; instead, she had stuck around the palace. It was all new to her. There were flat-topped buildings in some areas, like those of the Calishans. In others, they were slanted roofs, and these looked newer than the others. There were people everywhere. Most of them were humans with dark skin like Felix. There were also dwarves and satyrs and even a few halflings. Kiyora might have lost track of her guide several times, but he constantly checked his pace.


    As they continued, the architecture along the way got weirder. It was still slanted, but the buildings became more darkly colored. There were strange angles in the most unexpected places. The more affluent houses had gargoyles on them, staring down at the street. The people here were all elves with dusty gray skin and wore long, draped robes. Their eyes were narrow, and their ears shorter than most elves. They were called Dust Elves in this world, right? Kiyora didn''t think it polite to ask here.


    "Wow, this place is amazing," she said. "What''s with all the weird architecture?"


    "This is the oldest part of the city," said Felix. "It dates back to when the Dust Elves ruled over Arsheen. Then, they ruled over Artarq and much of the realm to the east here. Many of the Dust Elves who live here today can date their ancestry back to the founders of this province. When Baltoth the Inexorable seized it, they remained here."


    "And then Duke Vanion took it from Baltoth?" guessed Kiyora.


    "That is a somewhat simplified version," replied Felix. "The local nobility wanted to stop paying taxes to Baltoth and started a rebellion. They threw out the old King Banir, but he returned with an army. They knew that Baltoth would have them all crucified if they failed. That was why they appealed to the Kingdom of Antion for support."


    Suddenly, there was movement out of the corner of Kiyora''s eye. There was a crash, and she whirled around and looked into a dark alley. But it had only been some rats that had knocked over some junk. So why did she feel like she was being watched?


    "Kiyora?" asked Felix.


    "It''s nothing," said Kiyora. "I just got startled. So what happened with the Kingdom of Antion?"


    Felix shrugged. "King Andoa II of Antion sent Sir Vanion {he was not yet a Duke} with an army to organize things and lead the vanguard. Vanion caught the Calishans off guard at the Battle of Desora. Then, under his leadership, the Harlenorians routed the armies of Baltoth."


    "So they made him governor," guessed Kiyora.


    "No, that decision would make too much sense for King Andoa''s tastes," said Felix. "Instead, he gave the job to the person who donated the most to the treasury. Lord Argath Marn got the job. Remarkably enough, he dedicated his administration to making back the money he spent. He was wholly corrupt."


    "And what happened to him?" asked Kiyora.


    "Sir Vanion had Duke Borinius arrested for treason," said Felix. "As a result, all of Duke Borinius'' friends came under suspicion, and Argath was one of them. He lost his office and the position as governor, and it was given to Vanion''s father, Garath. He ran things decently enough, and the position passed to his son when he died. Which brings us to today."


    "And now Argath is a raider?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Felix, "he''s working to redeem himself in the battle to salvage his family''s reputation. Though I''ve heard he has a patron in Gel Carn, Steward Benarus. He isn''t much of a concern, however." He paused. "We''d best stop talking. I''ve found that you never get anywhere when you have an interesting conversation."


    "Oh, come on. Just because-" began Kiyora.


    "Here we are," said Felix. "See?"


    The house they had stopped at was shorter and broader than most. The windows were open, and the scent of blood was in the air. Massacre was sitting in front of the door. Two of the illusion''s heads, the goat and the dragon, were fast asleep. The lion, however, was alert and watching.


    "Thanks for taking me here," said Kiyora. "Are you heading back to the palace?"


    "I have a message to run while I''m down here," said Felix. "My business ventures need tending. I suppose I''ll see you later."


    "Don''t worry," said Kiyora. "I can find my way back." She approached Massacre. The chimera roused herself and ran up to Kiyora, nuzzling her with all three heads. Kiyora laughed and scratched her behind her lion and goat ears. "Right. Hey Massacre girl, who''s a good girl, who''s a good girl!"


    "Bah," said Massacre''s goat head.


    "So, where is William?" asked Kiyora.


    "Inside, where else?" asked Felix. "Just listen to the sound of thankful sheep."


    "Sheep?" asked Kiyora. "What would sheep be doing here?"


    Felix sighed. "I mean the sick people he is healing. I can''t stand listening to them fawn over him. William may enjoy having people think of him as a savior. But what he needs is someone who doesn''t take him seriously." And he walked off.


    "Cynical as always," said Kiyora with a sigh.


    She entered the house. It consisted of one very long room with many beds and bedrolls laid out throughout it. At the far end of the room was William. He had gotten taller these past few months, and his blonde hair had gotten longer. However, his right eye still bore the vicious scar he''d gotten at Baltoth''s Retribution. He was speaking with a woman in concealing garments. A boy of perhaps ten was at his feet with a bandaged leg at an unnatural angle.


    "Please, Paladin, my son''s leg has been broken," said the woman. "Please heal him."


    "As you wish," said William, kneeling and placing a hand on the boy''s forehead. "In the name of Elranor, stand and walk."


    Instantly, the leg set itself. The boy gasped and then stood. The woman hugged him, while William just looked vaguely tired. "Thank you, thank you so much."


    "It''s no trouble," said William. "Go in peace."


    The woman and her son made their way out of the house. William turned his attention to a bed. In it, a woman was lying, surrounded by family. He approached quickly. "What has happened to her?"


    "She became very ill one day," said a man. "We don''t know what it is, but..."


    "The reason doesn''t matter. Be cured," said William before putting a hand on her shoulder.


    She breathed, and the unhealthy pallor faded from her skin as she rose. From there, she and her family promptly departed with many thanks and well wishes. William proceeded to do similar things dozens of times over.


    "You are rather dramatic about all this, aren''t you, William?" asked a voice.


    Out of the shadows emerged Lady Rusara. Kiyora hadn''t even realized she was here. Which was appropriate since she was the one Felix had learned it all from. She was petite for an elf, and her ears were longer than most. But William immediately turned to her.


    "Everyone here regards me as some kind of savior," said William. "They expect it."


    "You don''t need to play to their expectations, though," noted Rusara.


    "Yes, Lady Rusara," said William before looking away. "Did you hear the news? About the ships filled with malas, the ones the Calishans captured?"


    "Yes, I did," said Rusara. "I expect Magicora and the Sorcerer''s Guild mages will be furious. Still, Raynald tells me that he captured several vessels in his last foray out to sea. Unfortunately, Argath Marn also burned several Calishan villages. Though the Calishan pirate, Raj Danal, almost returned the favor.


    "We are fortunate we have a friendly port in the Kingdom of Estal. Things are beginning to heat up."


    "Do you think it will come to an invasion?" asked William.


    "Barring some entirely unforeseen event, yes. The only question is when," said Rusara. "It is strange; I would have expected the invasion to occur a month ago. But, in that time, we''ve gathered more and more strength to us. Sellswords, adventurers, crusaders.


    "What is Baltoth waiting for?"


    "You''d know better than I," noted William.


    "Yes, I suppose I would," said Rusara with a grin.


    "Um, excuse me," said Kiyora, entering.


    William looked at her and instantly brightened up. "Kiyora, I haven''t seen you in months."


    "Sorry, I''ve been busy," said Kiyora. "I''ve been working a lot more miracles than usual lately."


    "I''m glad to hear it," said William.


    "Oh, and the demoness says hello," said Kiyora.


    "Does she?" said William, sounding even less pleased. "The scar on my eye still hurts."


    "I''m sure she''ll be glad to hear it," said Kiyora before she noted another door. Curious, she made her way over and looked in. Many people were lying on bedrolls just inside.


    Their eyes were vacant and bright white, and their veins were showing. "Hey, what about them, if you don''t mind me asking? Why haven''t you healed them?"


    "Oh, uh... those are a more recent case," said William. "Malas infects them."


    "What is malas?" asked Kiyora.


    "Kiyora, do you pay any attention to this world you dream of?" asked William.


    "Not until recently, no," admitted Kiyora.


    "Malas is the reason Baltoth is so eager to regain Artarq. It is a substance that only exists near the northern border. Or at least that is the only large source we know of." said William. "A small amount of the stuff a sorcerer takes will enhance their connection to the spirit realm. It allows them to do great feats of magic briefly."


    "The catch is that if misused, it can become a highly addicting substance," said Rusara. "It eventually plunges your mind into the spirit world, so you can''t wake up anymore. That is what happened to those people."


    "So why can''t you heal them?" asked Kiyora.


    "Because healing the flesh is easy," said William. "Healing the spirit is far more difficult, and Rusara tells me I am nowhere near ready for it."


    "Right," said Kiyora, not getting it. "I thought you were practicing your magic here?"


    "I am," said William. "Healing the sick and injured lets me practice using my connection to Elranor. It also increases my renown with the common people and helps many people who need it."


    "Oh, that makes sense," said Kiyora. "So if this malas stuff is so dangerous, why do you sell to people?"


    "We don''t," said William. "Lord Marn did it before the King of Antion made it illegal. Various criminal organizations in Antion did well out of it, and some were from off-world.


    "Under Father, and we only harvest as much as the mages of Magicora and Sorcerer''s Guild need. Then they sell it to them. Unfortunately, that leaves a great many untapped sites to harvest from."


    "Then, where did they come from?" asked Kiyora.


    "The system which Argath Marn set in place didn''t disappear when he was removed from office. It just went underground," said William. "We''ve been working to clamp down on the sale. But there are a lot of smugglers. The trade is very profitable.


    "Rusara could tell you more."


    "I could," admitted Rusara, looking pleased. "Even so, I''m glad not all my lessons in Carn Gable went to waste."


    "None of them did," said William.


    At that moment, the door opened, and Felix entered. "William."


    "What is it, Felix?" asked William.


    "There is trouble at the new temple," said Felix. "Brinsiege wants to talk with you right away."


    "Right, Rusara, we''ll have to go," said William.


    "As you wish," said Rusara. "Just finish your tea; I don''t want it to go to waste."


    "I''ll go with you!" said Kiyora quickly.


    Things had gotten interesting at last!

 Chapter 74 - Two: The Nature of Stories

    Kiyora''s new temple was more impressive than she had been expecting. Much more impressive. It towered over the rest of the district like a great cathedral. Of course, it still had a bunch of holes in the walls, and the roof had fallen in, but then it was only half complete.


    "Wow, this place is huge," said Kiyora. "Did you build this all in the last six months?"


    "No, I''m repurposing it," admitted William. "It once belonged to a god that no one worships anymore. What was her name again, Felix?"


    "Typhos," said Felix.


    "Ah, right. She is the Mother of all monsters. There was a great war between her and the goddess Zeya," said William. "All the gods took sides, and eventually, Zeya emerged victoriously. Typhos'' power was sealed away in an ancient shrine.


    "Now her followers are scattered and few. All that remains of her power in Artarq is this temple."


    They entered the center of the temple and saw a brown-bearded dwarf speaking with his workers. Above them loomed a gigantic statue. It looked like a brontosaurus, except it had seven heads like that of a snake instead of one. It had three heads like that of a lion and one head like that of a goat. It also had eight legs, four like a bug and four of a lizard.


    Brinsiege, small even for a dwarf with ruddy skin and brown hair, looked up and ran up to William. He seemed determined. "I won''t do it, sir!"


    "Brinsiege, what is the problem?" asked William.


    "I won''t tear down a statue to a god!" snapped Brinsiege. "Not for any money. One has to show respect."


    "Typhos hasn''t been important in many centuries, Brinsiege," said William. "Why should we fear her?"


    "And yet she is watching us. Look at that statue," said Brinsiege. "Look at those eyes. Whatever is behind them is judging us."


    Kiyora looked up at the eyes and noticed that the eyes of the statue were all gems. That was weird. There was also a life in that gaze. Had Typhos been the one watching her? "...Hey, if this temple has been abandoned for years and years, why hasn''t someone stolen the gems?"


    "Good question," admitted William. "Brinsiege may be right. Still, we can''t just leave the statue here. This is your temple, Kiyora."


    "Why don''t we just move it down to the catacombs?" asked one of the dwarves. "We could set up a secondary shrine there."


    "Oh yes, because I''m certain Typhos will react so well to being made a secondary god in her temple," muttered Felix.


    "Better to be worshipped by some than none," said William.


    "Just leave the statue here," said Kiyora.


    "What?" asked William.


    "Put my statue up right here, see, across from it. Then give me a rainbow sword or something!" said Kiyora. "And I could be pointing it skywards, and Typhos could be roaring! And I could be riding a horse!"


    "What is a horse?" asked William.


    "A horse," said Kiyora, getting a blank look for her trouble. "An equine?"


    "What is an equine?" asked William.


    "A large pony," Kiyora tried. "Well, not really, but um... okay, seriously, how can none of you know what a horse is?"


    "If I had to guess, I''d say because there are no horses in any land I''ve ever heard of," said William. "Even Erik the Voyager never wrote of such creatures."


    "Wow, no horses. That is cool," said Kiyora. "Anyway, I want my statue to be facing the monster thingy-"


    "Typhos," said Felix.


    "-facing Typhos down and brandishing a sword," said Kiyora.


    "Correct me if I''m wrong, but you have never used a sword. In or out of a dream," said William.


    "It''ll look cool. And appearances are everything," said Kiyora. "Why do you think my people dye our hair?"


    "Very well. I''ll contact the artisans and tell them that you are changing the plan. Again." said William with a sigh. "We''ll have to create an entirely separate altar. Yet more expenses."


    "Hey, we wouldn''t even be in this situation if you had built a temple from scratch," said Kiyora. "Why do we have to repurpose this one at all?"


    "It''s cheaper this way," said William.


    "Cheapskate," said Kiyora under her breath, though she wasn''t offended.


    "What?" said William.


    "Never mind, it doesn''t matter," said Kiyora.


    William looked at her carefully for a moment. "...At any rate, how are things on your end, Kiyora?"


    "My end?" asked Kiyora. She had an end?


    "Yes, I needed you to arrange for priests to run this temple," said William. "It''s best if we have them laid out in advance."


    "Oh right, that!" said Kiyora. She vaguely remembered talking to Bjorn about this. "Um, the priests are all ready. But Bjorn is planning on sending them by sea from Port Otter. He hoped your dad would send some men to escort them, what with the pirates and all."


    "Wonderful," said William. "I''ll tell Father next time I see him."


    "So, do you want to see this statue shaper guy?" asked Kiyora.


    "His name is Vensus, and he is one of the best at his trade," said William. "If there is nothing else, Brinsiege, we''ll see him."


    "By all means. I''ve got work enough to occupy me clearing this place," said Brinsiege.


    William led them out of the temple and back into the bustling streets. The area they were in was an impressive place. There were many different holy sites, shrines, and, of course, temples. They came in all shapes and sizes. At least a hundred gods must have been worshipped in this place.


    "So, where are we heading?" asked Kiyora.


    "We''re heading to the Merchant''s District," said William. "It is the center of business in Arsheen. What we''re in now is the Temple district. Do I need to explain what its purpose is?"


    What had him so annoyed? "Nope. Wow, there sure are a lot of people here."


    "Well, it is business hours," said William. "Come."


    Vensus'' place was the exact opposite of the Dust Elven architecture. It was a house built of white pillars and elegant curves. Elaborate designs were all over the walls. They showed pictures of angels and various religious scenes. At the top of the house were four statues of angels, each facing outward on a corner of the roof.


    "So this is the place?" said Kiyora. "Pretty, isn''t it?"


    "Yes," said William. "Oh, Kiyora, a warning before we go on: Vensus and his family are from the elvish reservations. So whatever you do, do not mention Anoa the Bright or anything to do with the founding of Harlenor. It is against common courtesy when dealing with the elves."


    "I wasn''t going to," said Kiyora. "Um, so uh... who was Anoa the Bright?"


    "The founder of Harlenor United," said William. "He founded a dynasty of Kings that ruled over our golden age. Then Baltoth ambushed and murdered his last heir. After that, it fractured into three lesser kingdoms. He had a large part in destroying the old elven Kingdoms, so do not mention him.


    "If you do, Vensus would be obligated to curse his name. At that point, I would be obligated to defend it, and we wouldn''t get anything done."


    "Okay," said Kiyora.


    They walked to the door, and William knocked. It made a nice sound when William hit the door. After a moment, it opened, and out of the door peered an elf. A high elf, or so Kiyora guessed. His ears were longer than the Dust Elves. Yet they were shorter than hers, and his appearance was more angular. He was also fair-skinned with blonde hair tied into a ponytail.


    "Ah, William," he said, "You are here at last."


    "You were expecting us?" asked William.


    "Yes, I saw you coming some time ago through the eyes of my angels," said Vensus. "I''ve had them track you for quite some time. You''ll be happy to know I''ve already begun shifting the stone to make the requested changes. You really should plan these things out ahead of time."


    Suddenly, Kiyora felt an impact on her forehead. The world began to fade around her, warping and twisting. Damn it, she was just getting interested.


    "I see. Perhaps we should discuss the details of your fee," said William.


    "Of course," said Vensus. "Come in."


    "...Um, I have to go," said Kiyora.


    William looked at her in irritation. "You might at least stay long enough to see the negotiations."


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    "No, I''m waking up," said Kiyora. "I can''t-"


    Kiyora felt the impact of a ruler being slapped lightly across her forehead. "Wake up, Kiyora! I don''t pay you to sleep!"


    Kiyora caught the ruler and shoved it away before looking up to see Gisora standing across from her. The green-haired Princess looked very annoyed, but she could stay that way. "You don''t pay me at all."


    "I''m serious; this is a club," said Gisora. "You aren''t supposed to be sleeping through it."


    "I was brainstorming," said Kiyora.


    "With your eyes closed and your head on the desk," said Gisora.


    "I brainstorm in my dreams," said Kiyora. "So, what''s the agenda today?"


    "We were just discussing what the hero should be in the story," said Gisora. "Great heroes make great villains, and I need you to come up with a hero to match Laurus'' villain."


    "Right, and what was Laurus'' villain?" asked Kiyora.


    Laurus looked a bit annoyed at this. He looked just like an elven version of William, except without the scar and a bit thinner. His body language was more like Felix''s, though. "Fine, I''ll repeat myself. He''s a cunning and charismatic enemy who appears very reasonable. But he is manipulating events to cause as much chaos as possible."


    "Why?" asked Kiyora. "Why does he want to cause chaos? How does he benefit?"


    "He isn''t human," said Laurus. "Instead, he''s the avatar of a being of cruelty who enjoys toying with mere mortals. His true form is incomprehensible-"


    "Another dark god?" said Kiyora with a yawn. "Why can''t you ever make a normal villain? One that is elven."


    "Because that would be boring," said Laurus.


    "No, it isn''t," said Kiyora. "There are plenty of great villains who are merely mortal."


    "If someone is reading fantasy, they want to read about the fantastic," said Laurus. "Why have a fantasy setting at all if your villains are going to be elven?"


    "It could make for a great twist," said Kiyora.


    "Reya, what do you think?" said Gisora.


    Reya only spoke if spoken to. Her hair was dyed a darker green from Gisora''s today. A recent change. After getting the question, she adjusted her glasses nervously. Eventually, she found an answer. "I think both ideas are great."


    "That is a complete cop-out," said Kiyora. "Give us an actual answer."


    Reya froze up and stammered. "Erm... okay. Um... I think that Laurus'' idea was better."


    "Ha!" said Laurus.


    "Fine, whatever," said Kiyora. "Okay, for the hero... um, I''d make the hero a human. There are too many elven heroes, and I''d have him have long blonde hair and a scar over his right eye, but he can still see fine. He is kindhearted and brave but also seeks glory. He spends his spare time healing the sick and injured. But he does it as much to practice his skills and increase his renown as to help them.


    "He is also a complete cheapskate."


    "So, being a cheapskate aside, he''s a generic knight in shining armor?" said Laurus.


    "And what''s so wrong with that?" asked Kiyora, annoyed. "Nobody makes knights in shining armor in stories anymore. It''s all about people who want personal revenge or want to make a lot of money. I can count on one hand the heroes on television these days who act the way they do because it''s the right thing to do."


    "That''s because standard heroes are boring," said Laurus.


    "No, they aren''t! They''re only boring when being a hero is the totality of their being!" said Kiyora. "I already said that William is motivated at least partially by a desire for glory and is a cheapskate. Those two factors could result in any number of character arcs."


    "Yes, but reality is complex. In reality, there is no such thing as a hero," noted Gisora. "Everyone believes they are the hero of their own story, and media has evolved to account for that fact."


    "They account for it by making the heroes a bunch of jerks," said Kiyora. "Heroism is a quality anyone can aspire to given the right circumstances."


    "It isn''t realistic," said Laurus. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It is, too!" snapped Kiyora. "You only oppose the idea because you want everything to be about dastardly schemes. You think anyone with a moral compass is a boring character."


    "Calm down, both of you," said Gisora. "Reya, what is your opinion?"


    Reya paused thoughtfully. "Um, I''d rather not say."


    "I insist. Your opinion is important to us," said Gisora.


    "Erm, I think having some heroes in the story is probably good," said Reya.


    "Well, that settles it, doesn''t it?" asked Gisora before checking the time. "Now let''s call this club meeting adjourned. Kiyora, next time you come here, make sure you do something other than sleep before the meeting. I know we''re Dreamer Elves, but there are other ways to find inspiration, and you sleep too much."


    "Yes, madam president," said Kiyora.


    They parted company, and Kiyora and Reya began walking home together like always. It was a bright and sunny day, and even the shade cast by the great tree Actavosh couldn''t detract from it. Actavosh himself was in a very good mood. His enormous boughs were stretching out to catch the sun.


    Reya didn''t seem to be enjoying the day much. She looked very thoughtful.


    "Hey, Kiyora, mind if I ask you something?" she asked.


    "Sure," said Kiyora.


    "How do you come up with all these ideas so quickly?" asked Reya.


    "I told you I dream about them," said Kiyora.


    "Well, yeah, but um... usually when I dream, I dream of things I have experience with. You come up with all these weird ideas for settings," said Reya. "Like a round world, for instance. Or a flat world. I mean, I know some people can dream about things they don''t know about, but usually, they are highly trained."


    "I don''t know, I guess it''s just a talent I have," said Kiyora.


    "You should become a Dream Sage then," said Reya. "You''d be great at it!"


    "I don''t know what I want to do when I grow up, to be honest," admitted Kiyora. "Do you?"


    "I want to marry into a large harem group and have a big family," said Reya. "And I want to garden too. I want to be known as the best gardener ever to live.


    "Oh, we should marry the same guy. That way, we won''t all have to be separated after school ends."


    "Right, uh..." How did Kiyora tell her she did not see the appeal?


    Then Kiyora stopped. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end. Something was here. It wasn''t just being watched. It was a presence she hadn''t felt since she had seen him. Something moved in the corner of her eye, and Kiyora turned to look at it.


    She saw only an empty alley like before. But for a moment, she thought...


    "Kiyora, is something wrong?" asked Reya. "You just went pale all of a sudden."


    "Did you see that?" asked Kiyora.


    "See what?" said Reya in confusion.


    "I uh... let''s pick up the pace, okay," said Kiyora. "I''ve got a bad feeling, and I don''t want to be out any longer." Something was out there. And Kiyora had a feeling she knew what it was.


    "All right," said Reya, not getting it.


    They came to Reya''s house soon enough, a small one for this part of the city. The roots had formed only two stories and a few dozen rooms. Kiyora had been over here many times. Reya halted as she came to her driveway and turned to face her. "Well, here I am. See you tomorrow, Kiyora."


    "Right, gotcha," said Kiyora before walking onward.


    She ran as soon as she got out of sight of Reya''s house. Not because she was afraid but because she just liked running sometimes. A couple in the street gave her strange looks, but she didn''t care what they thought of her. Soon, she came to her house and saw Dad sitting on the front terrace, painting as always.


    She waved and ran to him. Anything to forget what might be out there.


    "Hey, Dad, how''s the painting going?" she asked, coming to a halt next to him.


    "Quite well," said Dad. "Just look at this."


    Kiyora looked at the canvas. She saw a gigantic whirlpool, which was utterly black at the center. Many giant spires of rock rose from the water around the vortex. A massive tidal wave surrounded the entire thing. It stood looming over everything. The colors were bright, and it gave off a surreal, fantastic feeling.


    "What is it?" asked Kiyora.


    "It''s a world that exists on a disk," said Dad. "But the entire thing is surrounded by a huge wave. It reaches thousands of miles into the sky. And every year, the wave goes down another few inches. And one day, it will fall completely and bring about the end of the world."


    "Where do the people live?" asked Kiyora. "That''s just a huge whirlpool."


    "See those spires around the whirlpool''s edge?" asked Dad. "Each of those is miles high and has many plateaus. The people live on those."


    "And what are the people?" asked Kiyora.


    "Fish elves and amphibians. They hate each other bitterly and war all the time," said Dad. "See, a long time ago, the gods were banished from this world, I call Dresh, and demons came to rule over the fish elves. The amphibs blame the fish elves for blocking the gods out and are always fighting with the demons."


    "Sounds like it could be the site of a good story," noted Kiyora.


    "Well, maybe you could write something in it," said Dad.


    "I''m not exactly a writer," admitted Kiyora. "I come up with concepts, but that''s about it." The front door opened, and Mom walked in quickly, dressed to kill in a fancy white dress. She sighed when she saw Dad. "Idlenus, finish up, dear."


    "Why?" asked Dad. "What''s the rush, Mayora."


    "Don''t you remember the charity ball?" asked Mom. "We''re supposed to be attending it."


    "You didn''t tell me anything about this," said Kiyora in annoyance.


    "I''m sorry, Kiyora. It must have slipped my mind," said Mom. "I cooked something for you to eat when you get hungry. It''s in the fridge when you want it."


    "Right, thank you," said Kiyora.


    This wasn''t anything new. Dad was a famous painter. His family had been obscenely wealthy before he got started. He liked spreading wealth to the less fortunate and the lesser races.


    Kiyora went inside and started watching what used to be her favorite show on the TV. She wondered what she had ever seen in it with each passing moment. It had been great once before it had succumbed to a narcissistic actor who owned forty percent of the stock.


    Just when she finished the episode, she got a phone call. Picking it up, she put it to her ear. "Hello?"


    "Hey, Kiyora, what are you up to?" asked Gisora.


    "Watching what used to be a decent television show," said Kiyora.


    "Not again," said Gisora in resignation.


    "I mean, it started great," said Kiyora. "The plots were pretty intelligent, and the characters were all decent. They all shared screen time. Some of the characters were brilliant."


    "So what happened?" asked Gisora in a bored tone.


    "What do you think happened?" asked Kiyora. "They fired the lead writer and turned the show into pointless action sequences. Nobody except the insufferably smug main character gets any screen time anymore. Oh, and I forgot that part, the main character gets like... three love interests an episode."


    "You do know that marrying multiple women is normal, don''t you?" asked Gisora. "Your parents are a bit eccentric."


    "I know that!" snapped Kiyora. "My problem is that these shallow love interests are introduced once per episode. Then they disappear completely and are never mentioned again! It defies belief that anyone could have that many one-night stands!


    "And what kind of moral is it setting?


    "''Sleeping with hundreds of women and then never seeing them again is A-okay?''


    "The only way this show can be saved is if a legal attorney serves the main character."


    "Legal attorney?" asked Gisora. "What for?"


    "Demanding recompense for the hundreds of illegitimate children," said Kiyora. "There have got to be a few dozen at least. The mothers have a right to support. Then maybe he could get flayed alive by the rest of the cast for stealing all the limelight and die painfully."


    "You don''t have to watch it, y'' know," said Gisora.


    "Hey, if no one tears these trashy TV shows to shreds in the reviews, they will continue to make them," said Kiyora. "This is my time, spent for the betterment of the Dreamer Elf race. Whenever you watch quality television, do so and remember me."


    "I won''t be remembering you much, then. You know these shows cater to the lower classes, right?" asked Gisora. "Humans, halflings, dwarves, the species that only care about wish fulfillment."


    "I''m the Dreaming Goddess!" snapped Kiyora. "I''m allowed to dream, damn it! Ugh, screw this. I''m going to bed."


    "Don''t you think it''s a bit early?" asked Gisora.


    "I''ve got nothing better to do," said Kiyora. "Mom and Dad have gone to another party."


    "Isn''t that the third one this week?" asked Gisora.


    "Yup," said Kiyora.


    "I swear, your mom acts more like a Princess than mine," said Gisora. "See you tomorrow."


    "Bye," said Kiyora before hanging up.


    She ate the leftovers, climbed the stairs, and went to bed.

 Chapter 75 - Three: Plans for Victory

    When William returned to Arsheen''s palace, it was late in the afternoon, and the sun was beginning to wane. Massacre had long since wandered off independently, as was her custom. He found out where she had wandered off to when he got to the palace gates. She was sleeping directly before them, and her goat head was on watch.


    He could only surmise that anyone with business in the palace would have to tiptoe around her. It probably shouldn''t have been as amusing as it was, though he couldn''t keep smiling. William approached and nudged her with one toe.


    "Hello, Massacre. I see you are still sleeping," said William.


    "Bah," said Massacre. No doubt, she wanted him to play more harp for her. She always wanted that.


    "Not now. I''m not in the mood," said William.


    "Bah," said Massacre in annoyance.


    William made his way through the gate but slowed as he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He suddenly felt that he was not alone and put one hand to his sword as he made his way forward.


    He heard footsteps and drew his sword, whirling around to dodge a serrated blade. He deflected three strikes, backing away before he and his enemy locked blades and came face to face.


    Raynald stood where he was, a crooked smile on his scarred face. They pressed their blades against one another for a moment, and William took in his mentor. The withered-armed man was wearing an orange cloak that covered his disability. He looked in a good mood, which was not as rare as you would think. Raynald had lived a hard life, but he smiled a great deal.


    They separated.


    "Hmm, I was expecting to take you off guard," said Raynald, drawing back his sword and sheathing it. "You are getting better, William. Back so late?"


    "Yes," said William, sheathing his sword. "It has been something of a day, Raynald." He''d hoped to show Kiyora precisely the position she had put him in. She had better things to do.


    "Well, you''re just in time for dinner," said Raynald. "You''d better get into something more presentable."


    "Will you be there?" asked William.


    Raynald laughed. "No, I''ll be dining with the men. Thank Elranor, and I''ll be leaving tomorrow."


    "Leaving?" asked William. "But you''ve only just arrived. I didn''t know you were back until you tried to remove my head!"


    "Yes," said Raynald, looking regretful. "Unfortunately, Vanion wants me to go and see about raising an army. From the Lords in the northern reaches of Artarq this time. Frankly, I''ll be glad to get on the road again. I had great sports with the Calishan merchants. You should have been there."


    "Maybe next time, Raynald," said William, inwardly feeling sick at the prospect.


    He quickly got himself dressed. Then he went to the dining room, where he found Father and Mother eating together in private. There were occasional feast days where the whole court would eat together. Fortunately, this was not one of these days.


    "Sugar, Vanion?" asked Mother.


    "No, thank you. I recently received news of what goes on in the Sornian sugar plantations," said Father. "It made me feel ill to know." He looked at William. "I am told your temple will finally be built, William. I trust the funds I provided were sufficient."


    "So far, yes," said William. "I just wish Kiyora would understand what this costs us."


    "And why should she? To her, this is but a dream," said Father. "Our reality is an idle amusement to be cast aside during waking hours. To her, the construction of a temple warrants a minimal amount of attention.


    "The real question is how we can use the fact?"


    "Must every conversation involve you scheming, Vanion?" asked Mother.


    "I constantly plan, Azgora. It''s who I am," said Father. "I may carry out very few of them, but I make them all the same. William, does Kiyora have any requests?"


    "Not Kiyora, but rather Bjorn," said William. "He is concerned about the route to Seathorius. He has requested you send some ships to escort them from Port Otter to Artarq."


    "That doesn''t seem difficult." mused Vanion. "I can have a ship with an armed crew sent to the mouth of Savior''s Run. His men can board, and they''ll be off. Still, I now have an idea of how to turn this situation to our advantage.


    "Ask the Dreaming Goddess if she would allow priests of Elranor to preach his word to the dwarves."


    "That seems risky," said William. "The Nakmar worship Baltoth as well as Kiyora, just like all the races of Seathorius. It might set Kiyora against Baltoth."


    "Yes, and since she is the most active of the gods of Seathorius, I expect she will win," said Father. "Baltoth''s worship in those regions is a concern; some might be induced to march against us in time.


    "Just ask her to ask Bjorn if it would be acceptable."


    "All right," said William, not liking the idea much.


    "I don''t like all this scheming and maneuvering," blurted Mother.


    "Oh?" asked Father, voice annoyed. "And what would you have me do instead?"


    "Confront Baltoth directly," said Azgora. "Crush his armies. Burn his cities. Strew his fields with salt."


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    "Thank you for your suggestion, Azgora," said Vanion. "I prefer a less genocidal method of achieving peace."


    "And why should we seek to achieve peace?" asked Azgora.


    "We will never agree on this, Azgora," said Vanion.


    "Father, what is your plan?" asked William. "You haven''t spoken of it with me before."


    "Rusara has told you of the criminals that plague Arsheen''s poorer districts?" said Vanion. "They make a living by selling malas to Calisha. There is an assortment of other criminal activities. It''s our good fortune. Seathorius is so dangerous. It''s impossible to transport the stuff through it."


    "I''ve seen their work," said William, thinking of the unconscious people. "But what do they have to do with Calisha?"


    "Everything," said Vanion. "As long as the gangs could supply Calisha, Baltoth would not hurry to assault Artarq. However, I have made smuggling very inconvenient. This meant that the price rose.


    "Since the supply has become less reliable, Baltoth is now moving to take the province for his own. Now, how would you deal with this, William?"


    Father was testing him. William thought about his options. Calisha was the largest empire in the world. Confronting it directly, like Mother was suggesting, would be banking everything on victory. A defeat would mean certain ruin. "...I would take a defensive stance. Deal with the gangs and hold my ground," said William. He looked to where Mother was looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Mother''s strategy seems sound as well."


    "It has its merits," said Father in a voice that said otherwise. "Unfortunately, it relies on us defeating Baltoth in a prolonged war. Wars are dangerous, unpredictable, and bloody affairs. They leave nations decimated and treasuries exhausted."


    "And without them, the race would weaken," snapped Mother. "Make no mistake, Vanion, the superiority of the males in this land to my own is due wholly to their talent for war. All else followed only because of that." S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Of course, dear," said Father. "All the same, a lengthy conflict is in no one''s interest. Thus, I plan to defeat Baltoth in one major battle and offer him favorable terms."


    "What terms?" asked William.


    "I will agree to sell Calisha malas at far lower prices than the gangs," said Father. "We don''t have to worry about smuggling or bribery, so it will be simple to outbid our opponents. Baltoth will pay us for his malas, and the criminals will lose their source of revenue. And we will have a moderate victory.


    "Everyone will win."


    "Yes, but we don''t want everyone to win, Vanion," said Mother. "What we want is for Calisha to be destroyed. Or do I have to tell you your god''s view of the matter?"


    "Yes, yes, and I''m sure Elranor''s ultimate victory will be glorious," said Father. "In the meantime, however, we gain much more by peace than war."


    William felt troubled. "Father, won''t sell malas to the Calishans harm the common people? I''ve seen what it does to people."


    "You needn''t fear," said Vanion. "Baltoth will want it to enhance the power of his sorcerers. He won''t waste what he buys on ordinary folk."


    "Then why don''t we offer these terms now?" asked William. "Why do we have to beat Baltoth on the battle field?"


    "If Baltoth thinks he can just take what he wants, he will try," said Father. "If he suffers a defeat and I offer my terms, he may take my offer and go home, proclaiming a great victory.


    "Another victory over Calisha will improve my standing in the court of Antion."


    "You would defeat your enemy by giving him what he wants," snapped Mother. "There is no glory in that."


    "If it is any consolation, Azgora, people don''t always enjoy getting what they want," said Father. "We should change the subject."


    "So be it," said Mother. "William, tell me, why is it that you have not destroyed the statue in the temple of Typhos?"


    And here was where things would get awkward. "I didn''t want to alienate a god," said William.


    "Typhos is an abomination," said Azgora. "That her worship was once allowed here is an unforgivable mark on the honor of this place."


    "Mother, Typhos was defeated long ago. All I''m doing is showing respect for a defeated adversary," said William. "It isn''t going to make her any less sealed."


    At that moment, the door opened, and Massacre barged into the room, having learned to open doors about a month ago. Making her way up to William, she brushed against him, nearly knocking him out of his chair. "Bah."


    "Begone from this place, beast," snarled Mother.


    "Mother, Massacre isn''t trying to provoke you," said William.


    "Her very presence here is a provocation," said Azgora. "The spawn of Typhos will never be welcome in my presence."


    "Bah," said Massacre, looking at Mother as though daring her to try something.


    William had to get Massacre out of there before Mother grabbed a broadsword. "Alright, I know I promised to play music for you. Mother, Father, I''ll take her out of here."


    William led Massacre into a large hall with a high roof. It was here that he always played music for her. It reminded him of where Rusara taught him to play the harp back home in Carn Gable. Unhooking the Goldenwood Harp from the wall, he strung it and began to play.


    The music was off this time. William wasn''t sure why, but he tried to play all the same. Massacre picked up on it and nuzzled him. "Bah."


    "Sorry if I''m playing a bit off, Massacre," said William. "There was this girl earlier. She was sick, and I couldn''t do anything to help her. I know I''ve helped many people, but that makes the ones I can''t save even worse.


    ''Back when I couldn''t do anything, it was easy to pretend as though there wasn''t anything wrong with the world."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Yes, I know I''m talking too much," said William.


    Then he looked up to Felix, who was always around him like a shadow. It seemed almost unnatural when he hadn''t been with him today for a while. But Azgora had wanted him to run some errands. "Felix, what do you think of Father''s plan?"


    "It may work," said Felix. "Giving Baltoth what he wants after dealing him a defeat will certainly get him to go elsewhere. In this way, Harlenor will profit from the malas trade. I''m going to invest in the malas business next. If all this works out, the industry will see a serious profit rise."


    "Still, Baltoth is the great enemy," said William. "He murdered Anoa IX and ended the line of Anoa the Bright. Is it Elranor''s will that we compromise with him?"


    "William, I''m a distant descendant of Baltoth. How do you expect me to know?" asked Felix.


    "I suppose that was a foolish question," said William, pausing momentarily. "Felix?"


    "Yes," asked Felix.


    "I''ve known you for years," said William. "Yet I don''t think I''ve ever heard what your life was like before you ended up at that slave market. I know you were a noble, but..."


    "There isn''t much to tell," said Felix. "I wasn''t a noble, more... well, yeoman is the closest thing you have in Harlenor, though I was a very rich. My mother was descended from one of Baltoth''s many mistresses. She married the wife of a Calishan tax collector and had me. He performed his duties faithfully for years. Then, one day, I saw my mother arguing with my father about something. I didn''t understand it then, but I do now.


    "Father had been skimming off the top of the taxes he collected to Baltoth. Mother was angry because Baltoth always found out about corruption sooner or later. She was afraid he would get caught."


    "Did he?" asked William.


    "I''m here, aren''t I?" asked Felix. "Because the next day, armed guards broke down the door and took us prisoner.


    "The penalty for corruption in Calisha is crucifixion. They nail your hands and feet to a cross and hoist you up so you are suffocating in midair. It takes hours, even days, to die.


    "Everything we owned was taken to pay back the debt. When that wasn''t enough, they sold my mother and me into slavery. We ended up in Artarq on the market. We were lucky Duke Vanion bought us."


    "I''m sorry," said William.


    "It''s my father''s fault," said Felix. "He should have known that Baltoth isn''t called The Inexorable for nothing. I''d rather not talk about this anymore, William."


    "Right, I shouldn''t have brought it up," said William.


    "You couldn''t have known," said Felix.


    William began playing again. He played and played until Massacre finally drifted off to sleep. And when the chimera was sleeping, he went to bed himself.

 Chapter 76 - Four: The Healers House

    William looked at himself in the mirror. The white cloak and tunic he had wrapped around him fit the image he wanted to project. Father had told him he had to do more than heal the sick and injured; he had to fit the part. He could be known as more than a miracle worker with proper presentation. He could be recognized as a messiah.


    William didn''t particularly want to be known as a messiah. But as a noble, he was obligated to bring further glory to his family and nation. So he took Father''s advice. Then, there was a flash of light, and Kiyora appeared.


    "Hey, how is it going?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well enough," said William. "You''re here early."


    "I have the day off today, so I figured I''d sleep and see if anyone needed help," said Kiyora. "I should swing by the Nakmar and see if they need my help, too. Though it''s been a pretty slow few months since I met you."


    "It''s been nearly a year," said William.


    "Right in dream time. Not real-time," said Kiyora. "So, anything you need to talk to me about?"


    William straightened his cloak and sighed. "Father has agreed to send the escort. It would help if you talked to him about the exact details. However, there is something else. Do you believe the dwarves would take offense if we sent some priests of Elranor to preach his word?"


    "I dunno. Maybe, maybe not," said Kiyora. "Why do you ask?"


    "My Father was hoping to send missionaries, but he doesn''t want to offend you," said William.


    "Eh, I''m pretty indifferent to religion," admitted Kiyora.


    William stared at her. No matter how long he knew her, she never stopped finding ways to amaze him. "You''re a god. You are a religion incarnate."


    "I''m pretty chill about it, is what I''m saying," said Kiyora. "I''ll talk to the dwarves about it."


    "Thank you," said William.


    "Hey, is something wrong?" asked Kiyora. "You seem a bit out of it."


    "I was thinking about those infected by malas," admitted William. "I wish I could help them." Unfortunately, healing them would only increase his reputation, which would be the right thing to do.


    "Come to think of it, they''re in a sleep they can''t wake up from, right?" said Kiyora.


    "Yes, what of it?" asked William.


    "Well, I''m the Dreaming Goddess," said Kiyora. I can do something about it.


    "Kiyora, I don''t mean to offend you, but Elranor is a much more powerful god than you," said William. "If his magic can''t do anything, what hope does yours?"


    "Sleeping is my specialty," said Kiyora.


    William met her gaze. Was she serious? Then again, she might have capabilities Elranor did not. "All right, I''ll take you to her. Felix, where is my sword? I could have sworn it was there on the table."


    "I hung it up, obviously," said Felix, retrieving it from the wall. "You really shouldn''t just throw powerful artifacts anywhere."


    "Right, right," said William.


    He took the blade from Felix and unsheathed it. The sword had grown with him. However, that was not the first change it underwent. After he''d cut Laughing Wraith with it, the blade had turned entirely black. And when Rusara reformed the metal after it was broken, she placed many glowing red runes on the hilt.


    "Felix," said William, "has Rusara ever told you what these runes were for?"


    "No," said Felix. "She just took the blade from me and worked magic on it. It was probably some blessing or protection sigil. She does know more sorcery than just setting people on fire."


    "I hope so," said William with a slight smile as he sheathed the blade. "Come on, let''s go."


    The trip to Rusara''s house went by very quickly. The streets seemed to fly by to the point where it seemed strange. Finally, William knocked on the door and had only to wait a minute before it opened. Rusara looked through, looking very tired. "William, I wasn''t expecting you for another day."


    "The situation has changed," said William. "Kiyora believes she will be able to heal malas sickness."


    "Well, she is welcome to try," said Rusara. "There are plenty with that affliction today."


    She led them in, and William saw row upon row of people afflicted with malas. There weren''t enough bedrolls for them all. You could hear them groaning in agony, even those without wounds. Seeing all those pure white eyes looking at them made him shudder.


    "What happened?" asked William.


    "Right after you left, people started pouring in with their afflicted," said Rusara. "Word of a great miracle worker has spread, and they are willing to try anything."


    "But so many..." said William.


    "Far more than I believed," said Rusara. "And more are coming in by the hour."


    William looked at Kiyora. She was clutching her head as though in pain. Her eyes were distant, and she looked out of it. "Kiyora, are you alright?"


    "I... it''s nothing," said Kiyora. "My head just hurts. I haven''t felt this way since- never mind." Then Rusara looked out the window. Her eyes narrowed, and William got a chill from the look on her face.


    "If you''ll excuse me, I must attend to something. I won''t be a minute, William."And she walked out the door. William followed and saw her walking towards a Calishan man. He''d been offering some children packets of a golden brown substance.


    "Children," said Rusara, taking the packets from them, "I''m afraid I need to speak with your friend. Run along now; I''ll tell you a story later."


    "But Rusara.." began one.


    "Now," said Rusara.


    The children dispersed, and Rusara looked to the Calishan. "Reus, just what do you think you are doing here?"


    "I''m plying my trade," said Reus. "What does it look like?"


    "Interesting," said Rusara. "Tell me something. Do you think that just because you are part of the Fists of Baltoth gives you a right to sell malas on my streets?"


    "Last time I checked, Duke Vanion''s barely got enough troops to protect his palace." snapped Reus. "The rest are all moving out. So maybe you should be like him and think of your safety."


    "Have care," said Rusara. "You will not enjoy my displeasure."


    "Oh right, you''re going to-," began Reus.


    Rusara snapped her fingers. Reus'' pantleg began to smoke and burst into flame. He screamed as he tried to beat it out, but the fire spread rapidly over him. He tried to run, but his legs would not move. The flames began to consume his entire body. The smell of burning flesh was everywhere.


    "Mercy! Mercy, please!" screamed Reus.


    Rusara said nothing; they just stood there and watched. She watched as Reus was reduced to a charred skeleton, still flaming. Kiyora observed that the skeleton fell to ashes. She watched as those ashes blew away, leaving only a scorch mark where once there had been a man.


    Rusara turned and walked back to the house.


    "Alchara above!" said Kiyora. "You just... just burned that guy alive."


    "Yes, and from now on, anyone who sees the mark will know what it means to cross Rusara," said Rusara. "Now come, dear, I''ll make some tea. Best to try healing malas sickness with a clear head."


    "Okay, no, this is not one of those things where you just pretend nothing happened," said Kiyora. "You just burned a man alive!"


    "A man who had probably destroyed many of the lives now at stake within my house," said Rusara. "Don''t trouble yourself; he deserved it."


    "Okay, how about you leave that to a court of law," said Kiyora.


    "I left specific orders. Anyone peddling malas in this area should be executed," said Rusara. "I was merely carrying them out."


    "And who are you to-?" began Kiyora.


    Rusara fixed her with a look both sympathetic and firm. Kiyora shut up. "Dear, I understand that where you are from, things are different. However, you must realize that I am not merely here as a healer. Far from it, I am the leader of the Dust Elf population of Arsheen. My authority comes directly from Duke Vanion himself and his from the King of Antion."


    "So... you can legally go around executing people?" said Kiyora.


    "Quite," said Rusara. "Though I expect if I did it too much, Vanion would take issue, and I''d be reassigned. My task is to keep order. Now that that unfortunate business is out of the way, how about we see about helping the less fortunate?


    "You may start wherever you wish."


    Kiyora approached one of them, a girl who looked about twelve. Putting a hand on her forehead like she had seen William do, she tried to stretch forth her will. But she couldn''t. Something was stopping her. She pressed against it, but her will was repulsed.


    "...something is stopping me. It''s like there is a wall around her mind," said Kiyora. "I can''t get through it."


    "Ah, well, that reveals a great deal, doesn''t it?" asked Rusara.


    "What do you mean?" asked Kiyora.


    "You are a goddess, my dear, and all gods are bound by laws," said Rusara. "Among these is a rule that the gods are not permitted to make war on one another directly. Instead, they must do so through mediums, such as paladins. William is an example of that."


    "So?" asked Kiyora.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "So if you are forbidden from working a miracle directly upon these people, what does that mean?" asked Rusara. "It means that another god is possessing their will."


    "Okay," said Kiyora. "So, I can''t do anything?"


    "Not directly," mused Rusara. "However, if you were to imbue someone with authority by your command, that person might act in your stead."


    "Right, sure, whatever," said Kiyora, uninterested. "Hey, William-"


    "No," said William, already guessing what she would say.


    "Why not?" asked Kiyora.


    "I am bound to the will of Elranor," said William. "I cannot serve two masters."


    "I''m not asking you to do anything you wouldn''t have done anyway!" said Kiyora.


    "I am a paladin of Elranor," said William. "Not a paladin of the Dreaming Goddess. I like you, Kiyora, but I am committed."


    "Oh well, I guess they die, and you fail as a paladin," said Kiyora.


    William saw her point. "You could give your powers to Felix."


    "No," said Felix.


    "Oh, come on," said Kiyora.


    "I am bound to serve William," said Felix. "If I were to accept status as your servant, there would be a conflict of interest."


    "I could give my powers to Massacre," said Kiyora.


    "Oh yes, because I''m sure a man-eating chimera would be suited to healing the ills of these people," said Felix. He glanced at Massacre. "No offense."


    "Bah," snapped Massacre.


    "But I don''t know anyone else!" said Kiyora. "No one that isn''t in Seathorius anyway!"


    "What about-" began William.


    "I am not giving powers to that bloodthirsty flame lover!" snapped Kiyora.


    "I''m not bloodthirsty," said Rusara. "Although I wouldn''t accept the offer anyway. I serve Laevian, Lady of Disease, and the Wild."


    "So we''re at an impasse," said William. "We can''t heal them without Kiyora giving her powers to someone. And no one suitable is willing. What now?"


    "Will, maybe you could commune with Elranor and get some kind of dispensation," said Kiyora.


    That damn nickname again! When was she going to stop calling him that? "My name is William, and I can''t exactly walk up to the heavenly gates and request an audience. I don''t meet Elranor; he meets with me. I only ever saw him once."


    "William, perhaps you should pray?" said Rusara. "You might make contact with him."


    "It seems the obvious solution," mused Felix.


    William looked at them. "...As you wish."


    He walked to a corner, clasped his hands, and attempted to commune with Elranor. Surprisingly, it worked. He stood in a shining hall with Elranor in front of him. Such was the brilliance of him that William had to avert his eyes. Even so, there was a certain irritated casualness to the aura of Elranor today.


    "Well?" said Elranor.


    "Lord Elranor, I was wondering-" began William.


    "It is my will that you take up the service of the Dreaming Goddess," said Elranor. "So long as we understand that if our purposes cross, you will serve my interests."


    "Thank you, sir," said William.


    Then, the vision ended. William turned and walked over to Kiyora. "He says yes."


    "Oh great," said Kiyora before looking at Rusara. "Now, how do I invest my power in him?"


    "Dear, do I look like a goddess to you?" asked Rusara with an amused smile. "I haven''t the faintest idea; I merely know it is possible. I suppose you should will that some part of your power flow through him."


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora. "Um... I, the Dreaming Goddess, at this moment, imbue a part of my power on you so that you may save these people. Or something like that."


    The effect was instant. William suddenly looked around, and nothing seemed real at all. The world seemed a petty illusion, and Kiyora was the only thing real in it. He shook his head and looked at his hands, wondering if they were real.


    "Formality doesn''t suit you," said Felix.


    "Did it work?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes, it worked," said William. "I can sense it, somehow. I''ll see if I can heal them now."


    "It better work after all this trouble," muttered Felix.


    William approached the girl he had tried to heal before. She had dark hair cut in a bowl cut and had a tan complexion. She looked like a mix between Harlenorian and Calishan. He''d tried to heal her once before Rusara had stopped him.


    "Take this seriously, William," said Rusara. "The will of a god is possessing these people. You will have to fight to heal them."


    William touched her forehead and reached into her with his will. He found himself walking amidst an endless golden haze. He wandered amidst it until he heard crying. Following the sound, he saw the girl kneeling and sobbing.


    "What''s wrong?" asked William.


    "I''m lost and can''t get home," said the girl. "I''ve run for hours, but whenever I''m close, he finds me."


    "Who?" asked William.


    "He... he..." The girl''s eyes were suddenly glazed. "He is laughing."


    Laughing Wraith was here. A chill went down his back. "Oh damn," said William, taking her by the hand. "Come on; I''ll get you out of here. Just follow me."


    Even as he spoke, the haze became darker, and a shadow appeared in his vision. William hauled on the girl and fled. The shadow grew closer and closer, looming ever larger. Its very presence was beyond horrible to think about.


    "He''s catching up to us!" cried the girl. "We''ll never escape!"


    "No," said William, pulling his mind back and her with him. "We''ve defeated him before. I will defeat him this time."


    The haze became pitch black. Cruel laughter could be heard around them. The girl was sobbing, and every waking moment was agony. Then, when William could no longer endure it, they ran through a light. Suddenly, he was stepping back from the girl a moment later.


    "Did it work?" asked Felix.


    "I... what happened?" asked the girl. "Is the nightmare over?"


    "Yes," said William.


    "Where am I?" asked the girl.


    "In my house, some days after you fell sick," said Rusara. "Tell me, how did you fall prey to malas sickness?"


    "I... I''ve been buying the stuff for weeks," said the girl. "Or I had been. I used my wages to do it, and once I started, I couldn''t stop. But... but the visions it gave me began to change. They became horrible, and I saw him.


    "Sometimes, I began to see him even in the real world, and I wanted to stop. But I couldn''t. I had to take it. I didn''t have a choice anymore."


    "Who?" asked Rusara.


    The girl looked up. "Laughing Wraith." Then she fell back and was asleep again. Yet this was a natural sleep, and her eyes were closed, her breathing steady.


    "Him?" asked Kiyora. "But I killed him."


    "He has been destroyed many times," said Rusara. "And he always returns."


    "Not again," said Felix. "I thought we were done with that nightmare months ago. I don''t want to have anything to do with him."


    "Unfortunately, we do not have a choice," said Rusara. "If Laughing Wraith possesses these people, it is for a purpose. And whatever that purpose is, I think we want to thwart it."


    "What are you talking about?" asked Felix. "Laughing Wraith is evil incarnate. I spent days dodging that monster. His actions have no rhyme or reason save mindless sadism and fear."


    "What''s your point?" asked William.


    "Did that monster strike you as the sort to make plans?" asked Felix.


    "Not as you saw him," admitted Rusara. "However, Laughing Wraith... changes. Each time he appears, he is a bit different. I suspect what we know as Laughing Wraith is merely a succession of avatars. With the same evil being as the source."


    "What about Melchious?" asked Kiyora.


    "Hmm?" asked Rusara.


    "Melchious summoned Laughing Wraith into this world. He was trying to create a dark dreamer to serve him," said Kiyora. "Remember the book William found?"


    "I remember it. I have studied it," said Rusara. "However, I do not believe that the man who wrote it really had any idea what he summoned. He might have tried to summon a dreamer and gotten something entirely different."


    "None of this matters. I need to see to the others," said William.


    "Be careful," said Kiyora. "You don''t look very good."


    William didn''t feel very good, either. His head was swimming, and his hands were shaking. He steadied himself. He then channeled the power of Elranor through him to strengthen himself. Then he moved to the next one.


    "Keep your eyes open," said Rusara. "Each of these people has the will of Laughing Wraith within them. If you focus, you may be able to get some sense of his plan."


    William began the process of healing them. This was nothing like treating flesh. Every attempt he made brought him close to the mind of Laughing Wraith. It pained him more and more each time to rescue them. He could focus on nothing else. The people who awoke from their dark sleep could tell him nothing. Nothing save that it was Laughing Wraith who had done it. He worked for hours, and occasionally, he had to stop to drink some tea made by Rusara. His hands often shook, and he could sometimes see the monster''s face, almost at any rate. It looked a lot like his own.


    Then, while working on another girl, he had a vision.


    He saw the inside of a massive temple-like structure. A statue of Typhos loomed high above them, and a man was looking at him. He was a tall, thin Calishan with a red beard. His eyes were deprived of sleep, and he looked in a bad temper.


    "The door remains closed," said the man. "Your efforts seem to have failed."


    At first, William thought he was talking to him. Then he saw his own shadow¡ªthe shadow of Laughing Wraith. Just looking at it horrified him, and he wanted more than anything to flee back. He was looking through Laughing Wraith''s eyes, sensing his thoughts. Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He had to get out of here! He had to get away from this before the monster sensed him!


    No. No, he had to stay. He had to learn of their plan. He listened to Laughing Wraith''s response. It wasn''t verbal. He couldn''t comprehend what he was listening to. What he heard was only his mind attempting to make sense of what he heard.


    The seal had weakened.


    They only needed more power to fuel the spell. Spreading the possessed malas was working. They only needed to continue as they had been. Or that was as much as William could tell from the will of the dark dreamer.


    "Whatever the cause, our priority is to break these gates," said the man. Korasus was his name. He halted, striving to speak. "Once we do that, nothing else matters."


    Fool, they were already discovered.


    "What do you mean?" asked Korasus.


    The wretched paladin had learned of their efforts. The miserable little flesh and blood were healing the sick as they spoke. They were taking away Wraith''s playthings.


    "I thought you said your power was immune to healing magic," said Korasus.


    The Dreaming Goddess was his antithesis. She could combat Wraith''s energies. Wraith longed to find her, how he longed to wrap the hands of those dearest to her around her neck. He thirsted to squeeze until there was no life left in her.


    "Wonderful," said Korasus. "Which means we are exposed for naught."


    That was right; William should kill her when he got out of this. It made perfect sense. She deserved it. No, she didn''t deserve it; what was he thinking? Wraith would break the gates himself. He desired that Korasus would allow him to do his part of the arrangement. He was laughing. He was laughing. He was laughing.


    "I have done everything the plan calls for," said Korasus. "I supplied the workforce, the guards, and the money. However, it is you who has not shown results, monster."


    Wraith would not dignify that with a response. What was important was that William killed Kiyora when he next saw her. And failing that, he should murder one of the others. Perhaps Felix. How amusing it would be to see the look on his face as one closer to him than any other drove a blade through his heart.


    It wasn''t as though this world was real. Nothing he did mattered. So he could do as he pleased. Wraith turned away from Korasus.


    "Where are you going?" asked Korasus.


    To feed.


    "Don''t target Asimir''s villages," said Korasus. "He may expose us."


    Wraith cared not.


    "I mean it!" snarled Korasus.


    It was Wraith''s dream. He''d do as he pleased.


    William awoke with the conviction he''d lacked. He had to kill Kiyora and Felix. It would be amusing to watch them die, and why was he tied up? Ropes were bound around him, and his sword was far from him.


    Why would they tie him up? It wasn''t as though he was a threat. Except he was. He was going to kill them. What was he thinking?! He shook himself and regained his senses.


    "Well?" asked Rusara.


    "Someone named Korasus has been excavating the site of an old temple to Typhos," said William. "He seems to have a connection to Laughing Wraith, and they are working with an Asimir."


    "Asimir?" asked Kiyora.


    He''d been ready to kill Kiyora and Felix. He''d gone insane there for a moment and hadn''t even noticed. "Could someone cut these ropes?"


    "I apologize for that, dear," said Rusara. "When you didn''t wake up immediately, I thought Wraith might affect you. Gods have a way of doing that, so I had you tied up. Felix cut the ropes."


    Felix untied the ropes. He didn''t like wasting things. As William got his hands free, he stretched them. "If you knew it was that dangerous, why did you send me?"


    "Elranor gave you permission," said Rusara. "I expect he knows better than I what you are ready for."


    "Who''s this Asimir guy?" asked Kiyora.


    "Lord Asimir dwells in the far northern part of the province," said Rusara. "Near the satyr highlands of Khasmir. I believe that was where the last vestiges of the old cult of Typhos died out. Though I have heard that the cyclopi of Estal has taken up her worship."


    "We have to inform Father about this. Then, he''ll know what to do," said William. "I only wish Raynald were here."


    "I will alert the garrison at once," said Rusara.


    William looked at Kiyora. She looked as if someone had stepped on top of her grave. Her face was pale, and she was shaking. "Are you alright?"


    "I..." Kiyora paused. "I have to go."


    And she was gone without a flash. She just faded.

 Chapter 77 - Five: The Attack

    Kiyora sat up in her bed with a feeling that something was wrong. She looked around her bedroom. Many colorful action figures were standing on her table. The bookcases were spilling, as always. Everything was fine.


    Except everything was wrong.


    The window was open. Had it been open before? The curtains were drifting in the wind. Kiyora arose and made her way over to the edge to look out of it. With every step, she became more and more afraid. She reached the window and set her hands on it to shut it.


    Then she saw Laughing Wraith. He was in front of her, smiling.


    She heard herself scream as she shut the window and ran back to the bed in a blind panic, knocking over a table as she did so. Falling into the covers, she pulled them over her head to put something else between him and her.


    The door opened, and Mom rushed to her side. Kiyora heard herself sobbing. "Kiyora, what''s wrong! Why are you screaming!"


    "Look, look out there, Mom!" said Kiyora. "He... he is laughing... he is laughing... he is... no! No!"


    "Kiyora, calm down!" said Mom. "There is nothing out there. Look."


    She was right. There was nothing outside the window.


    "I... he was there. I saw him," said Kiyora.


    "I''ll get us some sodas," said Mom. "Come downstairs with me if you find it too scary up here."


    Kiyora allowed Mom to lead her down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mom quickly took out two sodas and offered one to Kiyora. She fumbled with opening it but got it on her third try, then drank it.


    "Now," said Mom, "the first thing you must understand is that you were dreaming, Kiyora. Whatever happened in there can''t hurt you."


    "I wasn''t," said Kiyora. "He wasn''t in my dreams; he was real."


    "Kiyora, you must understand our family has always had a powerful connection to dreams. It''s strong even for our race," said Mom. Sometimes, what we see in them bleeds over into reality. We see things that aren''t there. But what you see in the realm of sleep can only cross over if you let it.


    "There have been huge numbers of studies done on this subject."


    Kiyora sighed. "I was having a good dream until he showed up."


    "Who is he?" asked Mom.


    "Laughing Wraith," said Kiyora. "He''s a monster that me and William-"


    "William and I," said Mom absently.


    Kiyora felt a twinge of irritation. "-that William and I were chased by. I... I can''t describe what he looks like. But he''s horrible. Just being in his presence is like living in a nightmare. I thought I''d killed him."


    "Then kill him again," said Mom. "Kiyora, our race touches the spirit realm in our sleep. But what lies there cannot affect us unless we let it. Belief in something is what allows it to bleed into our real lives. I''m sure you can fix this."


    Kiyora looked at her and then drank her soda. "Thanks, Mom. I uh... wow, look at the time. I have to get ready for school."


    "It''s only four o''clock," said Mom.


    "Oh," said Kiyora.


    Kiyora did not end up going back to bed. Her head was still running with thoughts. She''d seen how William had worked. He''d become increasingly exhausted and distant with every person he''d healed. He''d only fixed about half of them, and then he''d gotten this sick smile. That was when Rusara had had him tied up.


    It bothered her that he could be affected that way. William was one of the coolest people she knew, even if he wasn''t real.


    She didn''t see Reya on her way to school. But when she reached the front gates, she found Laurus smoking a cigarette by them. He crushed it against the wall as she approached and threw it out.


    "Hey, Kiyora. Sleep well?" said Laurus.


    "You know that those things can shorten your lifespan by hundreds of years, right?" asked Kiyora. "Humans only get a hundred or so years, but elves smoking them cuts our lives down to a fraction of what we might have."


    "What are you, a PSA speaker?" asked Laurus. "Could you answer the damn question?"


    "Not at all," admitted Kiyora. "What about you?"


    "Fine," said Laurus. "Though my Mom had a boyfriend over." He paused and exited the wall before they began walking into the school. "So I''ve been thinking about my villain, and I think you may have been right about him. He doesn''t have a proper motive. I want to work with you to revamp the concept."


    "What do you have in mind?" asked Kiyora.


    "Um..." Laurus paused. "I''ll tell you and the others at lunch today."


    "Alright, sounds good," said Kiyora. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    They found Gisora at her desk, looking very distant. "Hey, Gisora."


    "Oh, hey," said Gisora.


    "What''s wrong?" asked Kiyora.


    "I uh... the royal family is looking for another wife, Prince Tenius," said Gisora.


    "Prince Tenius?" asked Kiyora. "But he''s already got four wives as it is."


    "He has special genes. They want to use him to breed a new, much more powerful branch of the family or something," said Gisora. "I''m a bit nervous or all. What if I get picked?"


    "Relax. You''re extended family numbers in the thousands," said Kiyora. "The chances you''ll be picked are beyond unlikely. Plus, there isn''t anything special about you. So you don''t have to worry about becoming breeding stock."


    "Ha ha," said Gisora. "I''m concerned BECAUSE I''m special, Kiyora."


    "Not to get us off the subject of spineless weaklings," said Laurus, who had been listening until now. "But did you guys hear about the presentation?"


    "What presentation?" asked Kiyora.


    "We''ve got a speaker coming in to educate the dangers of interracial breeding," said Laurus. "I hope you drank plenty of caffeine this morning."


    "Oh, Alchara, not this again," said Kiyora. "Why are they beating us over the head with it?"


    "Mom says that the Ministry of Bloodlines is afraid of diluting the race," said Gisora.


    "Are you kidding me?" asked Kiyora. "Emperor Ictargo holds lotteries. Lotteries determine which one of his granddaughters will be a wife to a foreign power. And he''s sending someone here to preach about the dangers of blood impurity?"


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "Well, that''s different," said Gisora.


    "How?" asked Kiyora.


    "When a Dreamer Princess marries a King, she improves his bloodline," said Gisora. "She ensures his descendants will be of better stock. She''s also tying that Kingdom to the Dreamer Empire. It''s a sacrifice for the betterment of the world as a whole. As long as their children are kept out of society, it''s fine.


    "But if we started letting commoners marry other races, it would degrade the race."


    "Yeah, we might not be an evolutionary nightmare anymore," muttered Kiyora.


    "You read too much human philosophy," said Gisora. "Alchara chose to make it, so there were five females for every male, and she''s our goddess, so it can''t be wrong."


    "It isn''t philosophy. It is science," said Kiyora.


    "Those are the same thing," said Gisora.


    "No, they aren''t!" said Kiyora.


    "Still, no Reya." mused Laurus. "Did you see her on her way here, Kiyora?"


    "No," admitted Kiyora. "Think she''ll be late?"


    The teacher, Ms. Everard, then appeared. "Good morning, everyone."


    "Good morning." Everyone echoed in an insincere fashion.


    At that moment, Reya rushed in through the door, bag trailing behind her. "I''m sorry I''m late; I overslept!"


    "Impeccable timing, Reya," said Ms. Everard, "I was about to mark you tardy."


    There was a bit of laughing at Reya as she sat down. Of course, Kiyora did not join in, nor did Laurus or Gisora. Even so, Reya looked awful as she sat down.


    The school continued as usual until they were thirty minutes away from lunch. At that point, Kiyora looked up to see something strange. Vines were growing up on the side of the school''s walls. They were very thin and had only just begun to sprout leaves.


    What was Actovosh thinking? Why would he grow plants up here like this?


    The vines were crawling up the window now. Murmurs of surprise came from the class as they suddenly bulged outward. The windows cracked and then shattered!


    The vines fell and began to crawl across the floor. Cries of surprise came from the other kids as the vines snaked around the desks. Soon, everyone had crowded up against the side of the wall.


    "Actovosh, what are you doing?" asked Kiyora.


    But there was yet to be a response. Kiyora tried to sense Actovosh but sensed only darkness. Then she felt Him. The others perceived it as well, and soon they all fled. Where were Laurus and Gisora?


    "Attention! May I have your attention, please!" said a voice. "An emergency has been detected in the building! Please proceed calmly to the exits!"


    "Come on, Kiyora, we''ve got to go," said Reya, the only one who had stayed.


    "Right," said Kiyora.


    They turned and fled out the door, shutting it behind them even as the vines began to crawl up it. Beyond, they found that vines and roots had grown through the ceiling. The lights on the hall above flickered and then went out.


    Everything was dark for a moment. Then, there was a sphere of green light as Reya illuminated their surroundings. Kiyora did the same, creating a blue light.


    "What is going on?" asked Reya as they walked through the school.


    "Something must have happened to disturb Actovosh," said Kiyora, already knowing the answer. "I''ve never seen spirits act this way before, though. Where are Gisora and Laurus?"


    "I think Gisora went to the bathroom," said Reya. "I don''t know about Laurus, though."


    The vines were filling the floor now. They were soon having to be careful not to trip over them. Sometimes, they heard the voices of other students as they walked, but they never saw anything. Then they saw Gisora. She was lying on the floor, and her eyes were bright white.


    "Gisora!" cried Kiyora, running forward to kneel by her.


    "He is laughing!" said Gisora with an unnatural smile. "He is laughing! He is laughing!"


    "Gisora, you have to calm down," said Kiyora, gripping her. "Look at me. Look at me." She put forth her will as she had as the Dreaming Goddess a thousand times before. And it worked. Gisora''s eyes returned to normal, and she sat up with a start.


    "Kiyora?" she said. "Is the nightmare over?"


    "Yes, but we''ve got to get out of here now," said Kiyora.


    Then she sensed it. That same presence had been outside her window. Looking up, she saw a shadow, darker than pitch black, creeping through the light toward them. "He''s coming! Come on!"


    Hauling Gisora to her feet, they fled through the halls. Coming to the stairs, they began to scale down them, flight after flight. Gisora looked at her. "Where is Laurus?"


    "Laurus can take care of himself," said Kiyora. "He''s probably already gotten out."


    But the stairs just kept on going. They went down flight after flight, but no matter how many they ran down, they never reached the bottom.


    "What is going on?" gasped Reya. "We should have found the exit by now!"


    "Just keep running," said Kiyora.


    As they ran, she began to count the numbers on the doors. Four, three, two, four. And all the while, the shadow got closer. She stopped at two. "In through here, quickly!"


    "What?" said Gisora. "But that''s not the bottom floor!"


    "We''re stuck in a loop!" said Kiyora. "Quickly!"


    She opened the door, and they ran through. Then, they stopped and found themselves on precisely the same staircase. And the shadow was all around them now. Reya and Gisora huddled around them as vines grew down the stairs, tearing them apart.


    Actovosh was the supreme natural spirit of the capital. Nothing happened without his will. Laughing Wraith couldn''t just override that, could he? It was impossible!


    And there he was. Just beyond sight, rising out of the darkness.


    "What is that thing?!" screamed Gisora.


    "Laughing Wraith," said Kiyora, stepping forward.


    She wouldn''t let him hurt her friends. She had beaten Laughing Wraith once before. She''d do it again in the real world if she had to. Her vision was suddenly clouded, and then-


    "Ictargo," said Reya, "Ictargo, help us, please!"


    There was a flash of orange light that shot down from above. The darkness was broken. So were the stairs on either side of them. They cracked beneath the force of the onslaught. There was a scream of unbearable agony and rage, and then all was silent. Emperor Ictargo was always watching.


    They were standing with both the ways up and down broken. One floor up.


    "Maybe we should check the elevator?" asked Reya.


    "I want out now," snapped Gisora before kneeling by one of the vines. "Excuse me, I''m a Princess of the Dreamer Empire, and I need your help. Grow down your roots so we don''t get eaten alive. Now would be good; we don''t have all day."


    Kiyora didn''t sense any evil from the roots again. Soon, they grew down into the form of a ladder of sorts. Kiyora urged Reya first.


    "Reya, you first," Kiyora said. "Climb down."


    "But I can''t!" said Reya. "I''m terrible at physical-"


    "If you don''t climb, we''ll be eaten alive!" said Kiyora. "Now, come on!"


    Reya began to scale down, followed by Gisora and then Kiyora. Reya struggled to stay on the vines and could hardly move from fear. Eventually, she halted utterly. "Kiyora, I... I''m scared."


    "Yeah, join the damn club and move!" snapped Kiyora.


    Reya started moving with her eyes closed, groping too quickly for the roots. Suddenly, she slipped and fell backward. Gisora reached out and grabbed her hand, holding her in place.


    "Don''t worry; I''ve got you!" Gisora said.


    Reya and Gisora''s eyes met, and Reya calmed down. Getting back on the vines, she managed to scale the rest of the way down.


    Once they were all down, they sprinted through the rest of the school. Wherever they walked, they saw broken-down doors and walls and ruined classrooms. Chairs were being warped and crushed into metal balls by the vines and roots. Yet they were no longer moving.


    Without Laughing Wraith, the plants were safe.


    The three of them rushed out the front door, or rather the shattered remnants of it. They found crowds of people waiting. Laurus saw them and ran toward them. "Where have you guys been? I was worried to death!"


    "You''ve had it easy, Laurus," said Kiyora.


    "I don''t know," said Gisora. "But I think we''d better cancel the club meeting for today."


    Then Kiyora saw the police trying to enforce the order. "Screw that!" she snapped. "I''m going to tell the police there is an eldritch abomination trying to eat us! Officer! Officer, I need to talk to you!"


    "What is it?" asked the officer.


    "While we were evacuating the school, we got separated from the main body," said Kiyora. "We tried to leave, but a monster chased and tried to kill us."


    "Are you joking?" asked the police officer.


    "No, I''m not joking; it''s a being from the darkest nightmares of the elven mind!" said Kiyora.


    "Kid, I don''t have time for this." said the officer.


    "Excuse me, Officer, I''m Princess Gisora," said Gisora, approaching. "I must apologize for my friend''s conduct; she has been under a lot of stress. While in that school, I was assaulted by something I did not understand. We need your help meeting with the Department of Spiritual Defense."


    "Of course. I''ll call it in right away," said the guard.


    "That''s not fair," said Kiyora. "Why should he believe you and not me?"


    "Well, I am a Princess," said Gisora. "It wouldn''t be much of a position if it didn''t have its perks."


    Typical really.

 Chapter 78 - Six: Atrocities

    The gates of Arsheen were open.


    Out of them marched column after column of House Gabriel soldiers. They were roughly a fourth of what could be called up. They bore tall shields and long spears. Their helms hid their faces, and their red plumes swayed in the wind. A crimson banner flowed at the head, with the symbol of a golden cobra coiled to strike upon it. Behind them came many sellswords and mercenaries. These were clad in various armor with weapons of all kinds. And behind them was a contingent of local levies. These were wrapped in lighter armor with large shields and speared.


    The Harlenorians numbered perhaps five thousand in total, including mercenaries. While the levies were only two thousand or so. Father was not sure they could be relied upon in more significant numbers.


    Raynald had argued against it, of course. But Rusara had pointed out that men called up for war could not plot rebellion. Father had liked the idea of getting troops from local forces. From there, they would turn them into loyal soldiers. So it had been decided.


    William marched alongside them, wearing only a suit of chainmail. It was heavy, even with the belt around it, and he didn''t like having it on his shoulders. Still, his armor still needed to be finished, and he had to wear something.


    Then Kiyora appeared. She didn''t say anything at first, looking very distant. William approached her instead of the other way around. "Kiyora, is something wrong?"


    "A lot of things," said Kiyora. "I don''t want to talk about it. What is going on?"


    "Father is leading an army," said William. "He intends to march out and demand Lord Asimir account for his actions. There are other reports. Something has been torturing the villagers in that region.


    "This never would have happened if they''d adopted Anoa the Bright''s militia system. But their Lords want them weak. It''s why we''re bringing in colonists."


    "So you''re going to war?" said Kiyora.


    William nodded, disappointed he wouldn''t be able to talk about history. "With any luck, it won''t come to that. We''re hoping Asimir will surrender. Mother will be running things in Father''s absence."


    "Well, why are you going?" asked Kiyora. "Aren''t you a bit young to be fighting in battles?"


    "It''s a bit late for that," said William, feeling a bit bitter as he said it. "Besides, I''m not being sent there to fight. I''m going to heal some injured and sick people. Father wants me to observe him in battle. It''s a shame. I was hoping to win some battle glory.


    "Raynald and Rusara have already gone on ahead."


    Kiyora remained silent for a long moment, watching the army march. The spearmen had given way to rows of men with smaller shields and long swords. And behind them were many Dust Elven archers dressed in hides with longbows.


    "...Hey William," said Kiyora. "I know this is a bit late, but how exactly are you paying for my temple?"


    "My Father is providing the funds and has done most of the work," admitted William.


    "Right. Listen, I haven''t been taking this world as seriously as I should have," said Kiyora. "I mean, maybe none of this is real, but maybe it is. So, I''m sorry I called you a cheapskate."


    "Don''t concern yourself with it," said William. "You''ve saved my life more than once."


    "Right, I guess I did," said Kiyora. "So, where is your Dad anyway?"


    William had known Kiyora long enough to know that ''Dad'' meant ''Father.'' Weird language. He pointed to the small domed building, which stood at a crossroads. The army was marching by it. "See that over there?" He asked.


    "Yeah," said Kiyora.


    "That''s a shrine to Barden," said William.


    "Right, and he is?" asked Kiyora.


    William had forgotten how much Kiyora was willfully ignorant of. "The god of travel. The third part of the God Triumvirate. People pray to him for success in business, good family life, and safe travels. You know, prosperity?


    "Anyway, it is a rule that when a war leader marches to war, he must first go ahead of his army and pray there. And he must do so until the army has completely left the gates. Otherwise, it is bad luck."


    "So, who are the other two parts of the god triumvirate?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, Elranor is the head," said William. "He''s the Lord of Knights, the nobility of spirit and martial valor. Though I guess I don''t need to tell you that. Then there is Laevian, and she is the darkest of three."


    "So she''s evil?" said Kiyora.


    "Not evil," said William. "She just... doesn''t value the same things as Barden and Elranor. She cares about wild and dangerous things and loves the world''s dark places. People don''t pray for her favor; they pray to appease her. She has mastery over diseases. If someone angers the God Triumvirate, she carries out retribution."


    "Sounds evil to me," said Kiyora.


    "She''s not evil!" said William. "She just has different priorities, which make her seem evil. If she were evil, her Seers wouldn''t give us prophecies."


    "Seers?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Seers of Laevian. They''re an order that dwells mostly in Escor and southern Antion. They commune with Rioletta, Goddes of Fate," said William. "Though they also have branches in other countries far from here. I''m not surprised you''ve never heard of them since you won''t find any in the East. Although I suppose Rusara might be one, depending on how you view it. Not that you''d know since you don''t exactly pay attention."


    "That''s not true. I''m fully aware of my surroundings-" said Kiyora as Father walked up behind her unnoticed.


    "Ah, Queen Kiyora," said Father.


    "Eek!" said Kiyora, nearly jumping out of her skin.


    "Walk with me," said Father.


    "Yes, sir," said Kiyora.


    William walked with them, as well. Since Father did not say anything, he judged it as permitted. Father remained silent for a time as if considering his answer. "I gather you have faced our enemy many times."


    "Yes. Once or twice," said Kiyora. "I mean, I''ve worked against him for a while."


    "My son tells me his minions are located near an abandoned temple of Typhos," said Father. "I do not know what they intend, but I can guess. They mean to access the power of Typhos and use it against us. As for their motives, I expect it is some combination of patriotism and ambition.


    "However, I do not know what motivates Laughing Wraith. I hope you shed some light on his intentions.


    "I... don''t know. I mean, Laughing Wraith is evil incarnate," said Kiyora.


    "An impressive title," said Father, not sounding impressed. "However, that doesn''t tell me what he wants or explain his actions."


    "He just likes hurting people, okay," said Kiyora. "He doesn''t even care about killing them. If he''d gone after William and I-"


    "William and me in this context," said Father. "Whether you use either ''me'' or ''I'' depends on the context of the phrase. In this situation, it would not be appropriate for you to say, ''If he''d gone after I.'' Rather, you would say, ''If he''d gone after me.'' Thus, ''William and me.''"


    "Whatever, if he''d gone after us seriously, he could have killed us," said Kiyora. "But he didn''t. He took his time and stalked us through the whole forest. I think he likes making people afraid of him."


    "So he is a bully." mused Father.


    "He is way worse than that," said Kiyora.


    "A bully can be anything from a petulant child to a petulant god," said Father. "It is a state of being irrelevant to one''s power level. The real question is how we can make use of this information. The book William found said that Laughing Wraith is a dreamer summoned by that fool Emiran. With help from Melchious, of course.


    "Why do you think he is different from you?"


    "What do you mean?" asked Kiyora.


    "You must recognize that Laughing Wraith seems almost a force of nature?" said Father. "You, on the other hand, are far easier to approach. One would think Laughing Wraith would have more personality."


    "Look, if you don''t mind, could you get to the point?" asked Kiyora.


    "Emiran''s notes say that he was trying to suppress the dreamer," said Father. "He wanted to create a sort of automaton god to do his bidding. He could not control the creature. Yet he may have succeeded in suppressing Laughing Wraith''s personality."


    "So he''s brainwashed?" said Kiyora.


    "It is worthy of consideration," mused Father. "I suspect Melchious may have twisted him into what he is."


    "Laughing Wraith is a monster!" burst out William. "He should be destroyed!"


    "Yes, but every time we kill him, he simply comes back. Let''s look into alternative solutions," said Father. "If we can reawaken the dreamer Laughing Wraith once was, we may be able to do away with him for good."


    "How could we do that?" asked Kiyora.


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    "I have no idea," admitted Father. "I was hoping you would have some insight." The conversation began their journey. At first, the army marched past many fertile fields. They saw farmers doing their work and occasionally saw carts riding along the side of the road. Father walked alongside them, keeping a keen eye on the troops.


    They pitched camp in a field beneath the stars. Well, not really. Father had ensured his soldiers were well supplied with tents. Even so, it took some time to pitch them. By this time, Kiyora had already gone off alone. She was undoubtedly doing good deeds elsewhere. For his part, William was only too happy to stop, though this was far from the worst experience he''d had.


    They eat well. Not as well as in the palace, of course. Duke Vanion made a point of eating the same thing his men, albeit in larger portions. But it wasn''t all that bad. It had only taken one trip to Seathorius to change his outlook. Now, things that would have been horrible to him were business as usual.


    "Felix," said William over dinner, "do you remember when we had to wander through Seathorius. When satyrs pursued us without any shoes?"


    "Yes," said Felix. "Why are you bringing it up?"


    "That was far worse than this," mused William.


    The next morning, Kiyora reappeared, and they continued their journey. The men seemed in good spirits, and William supposed he could not blame them. After all, they had a god marching with them. Granted, a far less powerful god than Elranor, there was something to be said for appearances.


    And then the fields quite suddenly faded away. In their place were plains of scrub grass. The trees disappeared, and the sun became hotter. As William had seen in the minds of those afflicted by malas, a slight haze appeared around them. There was a scent, slightly sweet, like cinnamon, in the air. Kiyora noticed it, too.


    "Hey, is it just me, or are things getting very barren suddenly?" asked Kiyora.


    "That is to be expected," said Father. "Artarq has yet to be fully brought into the influence of Elranor. Thus, the green fields disappear in further regions, and the malas fields begin. Look there; you can see it in the air.


    "And smell it as well."


    Soon enough, they began to see crews of men a way off the path. They were digging into the earth and sifting through it with tools. The haze was terrible around them. William guessed what they were at once, but Kiyora needed to learn. The scent of something like cinnamon was in the air.


    "Will," she said, "who are those men over there?"


    "Malas miners," said William. "They sift the sands for malas and then bring it back to Artarq. Harvesting a handful of the stuff takes a dozen men hours of work. Don''t worry; things should improve once we near Khasmir. And my name is William."


    Kiyora looked like she doubted him, but true to his word, the haze soon faded away, and they returned to the fields. But these were different. The plants here were strange. They were shifting things that seemed to cling to the ground instead of being rooted in them. The rocks were sharper. Everything was brighter and more rugged. The wheat fields they saw were white instead of gold and had thorns.


    "Why is everything so weird?" asked Kiyora.


    "Because Baltoth''s worship hasn''t faded from this place," said William. "When a god gains dominion over a place, it changes to suit that god''s nature. Elranor is a benevolent and good god, so sites under his sway naturally tend to be pleasant.


    "Baltoth believes in power through suffering, however. Thus, his domain is less hospitable."


    "What about your home?" asked Kiyora. "You always talk about how cold it is?"


    "Oh, Carn Gable is part of Haldren," said William. "Anoa the Bright took it from the clans of satyrs raiding his shores and colonized it. He defeated Neral Dinis, the vampire Lord, and his Furbearer servants.


    "But there are still a lot of satyrs who worship Kreshlak, their ancestral god. His influence ensures that it is a very cold place indeed. Why do you think they are so hairy?"


    "Why would anyone worship Kreshlak if he makes winter cold?" asked Kiyora.


    "The worshippers of gods have an easier time surviving in their god''s domains," said William. "And uninvited guests need help. Kreshlak''s freezing temperatures are a defense mechanism of sorts.


    "Only an idiot would ever try and invade one of his Kingdoms. It made fighting the Viokins a nightmare. Back when they were still raiding anyway."


    "Viokins?" asked Kiyora, "You mean those minotaurs?"


    "No, a Viokin is merely an inhabitant of Viokinar, which is very far north," said William. "Minotaurs live in Viokinar, and so are called Viokins."


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora. "So why did they stop raiding?"


    "The Viokins were able to make a good living by raiding the coastlines," said William. "Both Harlenor and Calisha hated them and each other. It was a three-way conflict, but their icy waters were hard to navigate. So Calisha and Harlenor weren''t able to raid them. Eventually, King Andoa seized Estal from them. Then, he allied with Calisha and beat them in several crucial sea battles.


    "After that, they stopped."


    "You allied with the Calishans?" asked Kiyora.


    "Elranor and Baltoth hate each other," said William. "Yet they understand the need to unite against common enemies. Elranor teaches us that pragmatism must come before idealism in some circumstances."


    Then they came in sight of a village. One of the walls had been knocked in. There were only a few people in view save soldiers. The banner of House De Chevlon was flying on the walls. The gates opened. Raynald emerged from the gates as they drew nearer and walked toward them in full armor. It was the exact opposite kind of armor one would expect, bright white and shining in the sun.


    "So, is that banner of a bear?" asked Kiyora, looking at the banner.


    "No," said William. "It is a Calishan honey badger."


    "Why would someone make a honey badger their House symbol?" asked Kiyora. "Badgers are cute fluffy things. It isn''t exactly intimidating."


    "Have you ever seen a Calishan honey badger?" asked William.


    "No, but neither have you," said Kiyora.


    "I got mauled by one once," said Felix. "It was neither cute nor fluffy."


    "Oh," said Kiyora.


    Raynald reached them and approached Father. He bowed his head quickly in recognition of Father''s rank, then leaned in close. "Vanion, I''m glad you are here."


    "What is it, Raynald?" asked Vanion.


    "I''ll tell you everything I know in a minute," said Raynald. "Is William with you?"


    "Yes," said Vanion.


    "Good," said Raynald. "We''ll need his help. Ordinary healers aren''t good enough."


    "Here I am," said Wiliam.


    "Go quickly then," said Raynald. "You''re needed."


    William looked to Father for permission. "Go on ahead," said Father. "I need to speak with Raynald alone."


    William hurried toward the village. He wondered what had happened to get Raynald so worried. Raynald was never worried. Aside from the broken wall, nothing seemed to be wrong. However, the lack of people and the dead silence troubled him.


    "What''s this about ordinary healers?" asked Kiyora. "You said everyone got their powers from demons, spirits, or gods."


    "They do," said William. "Every company has a sorcerer, someone who wields spirits assigned to it. They heal the wounded and attend to magical threats. However, they usually aren''t as powerful as those who get power from gods."


    "Oh, okay," said Kiyora. "So, what happened?"


    William remembered the vision suddenly. And then he remembered the sunlit grove where they had first met Wraith. It was similar to this village. Then he sensed His presence and shivered.


    "Laughing Wraith got there before us." He realized aloud.


    He reached the gates and found Tanith Telus waiting for him. The tall girl had cut her blonde hair into a bowl cut since the last they''d seen. At her side were two long swords, and she wore shining white armor as Raynald had. She looked sick to her stomach.


    "William," she said, "you''re here."


    "Yes," said William. "I''m glad you''re alright. What has happened?"


    "A lot of people are injured," said Tanith. "Though that doesn''t really do it justice. Come on; I''ll take you to them."


    She led him into the village, through the empty streets, and to a building. A man was lying by the side of the door, clutching onto a stick. He had a long white beard and tan skin and was short and stocky, though not as much as a dwarf. His eyes had been torn out.


    "My eyes..." he gasped. "he tore out my eyes..."


    William felt sick and horrible. No one deserved this. "Stay still," he said, touching the man''s shoulder. "This will only take a moment."


    He channeled the will of Elranor into the man, who gasped as darkness was purged from his body. The eyes he had lost soon regrew, and he looked down at his hands in amazement. "I... I can see." Then he saw William and fell back. "You! Keep him away from me! Stay away!" He was cowering in terror.


    "I won''t hurt you," said William. "I swear it on my honor!"


    "You swear it?!" cried the man. "You were the one who did all this!"


    "I tell you," said William. "I have never been here before in my life. There is an army that will attest to the truth of my words."


    "An army?" asked the man before he halted. "The ears. Your ears are different. It was... terrible. Terrible, terrible. He came last morning without warning. He didn''t kill anyone, but he made us beg for death. A monster stalked his shadow.


    "He is laughing; he is laughing..."


    William put both hands on his shoulders and set his will to drive out the remnants of his unnatural fear. What remained was trauma. "Calm yourself. I need you to lead me to the others so I can heal them."


    "I... I will do so." said the man.


    "I''ll come as well," said Tanith. "You might need help."


    Help in case one of these terrified people attacked him. Tanith always had thought of things like that. But why would Laughing Wraith wear his face? Except the older man had said something about ears.


    The old man led him inside to a bed where a young girl was lying. Her arms and legs had been broken in multiple places, and she looked like she was hardly aware of the world. Perhaps that was a mercy. Then, as he approached, the girl gasped and began to scream and cry. The old man hugged her.


    "Keep him away..." she gasped.


    "Don''t worry, granddaughter," said the man. "The monster who attacked you only wore his face. He can help you."


    William lay his hands on her and channeled the power of Elranor. The bones were severely broken, but he could reverse it. Elranor had given it to him. He just needed to direct it. Yet it was hard. Every bit of energy he poured into it only affected the wounds slightly. The girl was crying out in pain.


    Then it was over.


    "Tanith," said William, "do you have a cloak I can wear? Something that will cover my face?"


    "Um, hang on." Tanith pulled off her cloak. "This has a hood."


    "Good," said William, fitting it around his shoulders and pulling up the hood. "Take me to the others."


    What he had seen happen to the old man and his granddaughter paled in comparison to the atrocities he saw that day. One person had been half-flayed alive. They should have been dead, but Wraith''s power had kept them alive so they could suffer further. And that wasn''t even the worst of it.


    He never wanted to remember what he saw that day. But he knew it would return to him in his darkest dreams. Thus, he passed the rest of the day and eventually found himself sitting on the wall with everyone healed. There seemed to be a haze of despair just below the surface. Raynald arrived. He bit his nails on his one good arm and paced restlessly for a while. Finally, he looked up.


    "Even Calishans don''t deserve this," he said at last.


    "They aren''t Calishans," said Felix, looking down at his hands. "These are subjects of Harlenor and are a different group from mine."


    "What do you mean?" asked Raynald.


    "Baltoth rules over many races. I am a Medi," said Felix. "These are Drens, an entirely different ethnic group. My people are thinner and taller-"


    "Never mind, I don''t care. They all look the same to me." snapped Raynald. "Tanith, fan out and look for any more victims in the surrounding farmsteads. Bring them here so William can heal them."


    "Right, right," said Tanith. "Someone has to do it, I guess."


    "I''ve got to go speak to Vanion about our next course of action," said Raynald. "Come when you are ready, William. I''ll give you some time." He turned and made his way out. There was a mournful silence.


    "How could anyone do this?" asked Kiyora, who had been silent until now.


    "I want to know how they wear my face," said William.


    "Ears," said Felix.


    "What?" asked William.


    "The old man said that the one who did all this looked like William. Except for his ears," said Felix. "When we first met, Kiyora, you mistook William for someone you had seen before."


    "How do you even remember that?" asked Kiyora. "It was months ago."


    "I have a good memory," said Felix. "Who was the one you mistook for William?"


    "I... it was a boy named Laurus," said Kiyora. "I talked with him and figured out they weren''t the same. Then he invited me to join the fantasy club. But he would never do anything like this." sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Really? Let''s examine what we know," said Felix. "We know that Laughing Wraith is committing atrocities in a mortal form. We know that he looks just like William. We know that Laughing Wraith is a dreamer like you.


    "That seems to be a solid case against this, Laurus."


    "He would never do anything like this!" snapped Kiyora. "Laurus is not a monster!"


    "Maybe," said Felix. "But it can''t hurt to be sure when next you wake up. William, I''ve got an idea of how to deal with this. We should send out word to the surrounding villages. We''ll say that your lookalike is causing atrocities. That way, we can stop people from thinking you are doing this.


    "And if the scouts find that any of those villages have been hit, we can call you up, and you can heal them. With your permission, I''d like to suggest it to Duke Vanion."


    "Right," said William, "that sounds like a good plan. Go ahead. Tell him I approved the idea."Felix nodded and rushed off. Once he was gone, William looked at his hands. He''d healed a lot of people. But a lot more were probably suffering. And people thought he had done it. He felt like blood was on his hands, even if he knew it wasn''t his fault.


    "This can''t be Laurus," said Kiyora.


    "He might not even know what he is doing," said William. "And we can''t leave any stones unturned here."


    "I... but..." Kiyora paused before standing up. "Fine! I''ll check it out, but if this is wrong, I want an apology!"


    "And you''ll get one," William assured her.


    "I''d better," snapped Kiyora.


    Then, she was gone in a flash.

 Chapter 79 - Seven: The Shadow is Cast

    Kiyora woke up from a sleep she did not remember taking, feeling very tired still. She''d done a lot of things over days in the dream world. A lot of good deeds intermixed with checking up on William. Then they had found that village and everything had turned into a nightmare.


    "Kiyora," said Gisora, shoving her. "Kiyora, wake up. We''re here."


    "Where?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Department of Spiritual Defense," said Gisora. "Come on."


    They were in a cop car outside a building made out of red brick that intertwined with Actovosh''s roots. You had only a few windows with a good view of the surrounding area. Getting out of it, they were led into the station, to the front desk, and told to wait. After a few minutes, they were called into an office. It was sparsely decorated, with few ornaments or books or anything. However, there was a symbol of a tree with a shield in front of it on a blue background. That was the department''s symbol; below it was a desk strewn with paper. At the desk was a woman with green hair. She was looking over paperwork and clad in white robes.


    Kiyora and Gisora sat down, and she looked up. "Good day, Princess. I am Lieutenant Escalus of the Department of Spiritual Defense. I''m told you have information for me regarding the recent events at your school."


    "Yes, we were late in getting out," said Gisora. "We were attacked by this... thing." She shuddered at the memory. Kiyora didn''t blame her.


    "Can you describe it?" asked Escalus.


    "Not really," admitted Gisora. "It... it cast a long shadow, but it made me afraid. More afraid of anything in my life."


    "I saw it," said Kiyora. She didn''t realize how afraid Gisora had been.


    "You? And what did it appear like?" asked Escalus.


    "Looking at it hurt. It made me feel like my heart would burst in terror," said Kiyora. "I think he was slender, but his face... it was horrible." She looked to Gisora. "She was saying something when we found her. He is laughing. Everyone who sees him says that. I think it''s like his calling card or something."


    "I see," said Escalus, looking hard at her as she clenched a fist. "And you, what is your name?"


    "I''m Kiyora Yagos, ma''am," said Kiyora.


    "Describe everything you know about this creature. Start from the first time you met it to right now," said Escalus.


    "Alright, but the story is much longer than you think," said Kiyora.


    "Believe me, I have to hear it," said Escalus.


    Kiyora explained everything. It took a long time, and she expected Escalus to dismiss her. However, the further on Kiyora went, the more severe Escalus looked. On and on the story went until, at last, Kiyora had finished.


    "I see," said Escalus. "So, you''ve been seeing this monster in your dreams for months?"


    "Yes," said Kiyora. "And I saw him this morning."


    Escalus suddenly sat back in her chair and put both hands over her eyes in exhaustion. "...Not again."


    "You already knew about him?" asked Kiyora.


    "No!" snapped Escalus. "I believe you are blowing things out of proportion, and I suggest you return home. Our race sometimes exaggerates the trauma of nightmares in our minds. Sometimes, the innate connection all dream elves share causes this trauma to spread. In the worst of situations, it can cause panic on a massive scale.


    "Still, it is all in hand now. You did well to bring this information to us. We''ll see to this matter quickly. In the meantime, you should all go home."


    "What," said Kiyora, "but we just-"


    "Now!" snapped Escalus before pausing. "Oh, and I''ll need both of you to give some blood."


    "Why?" asked Gisora.


    "It''s merely to test your blood for toxins," said Esclus. "Nothing insidious, I assure you."


    "But-" began Kiyora.


    "I''m afraid I''ll have to insist," said Escalus. "This is important."


    "Yes, ma''am," said Kiyora.


    And that was how they were led into a separate room and told to wait. They said nothing as they waited. There wasn''t anything to say. The door opened, and a blonde-haired doctor entered. ''Hi, I''m just here to take a blood sample.''


    "Hang on, I thought this was the Department of Spiritual Defense," said Kiyora. "Why do you have blood testing machine things?"


    "We share the same building as the Department of Bloodlines," said the doctor. "Often, we find our areas of expertise overlap when it comes to dreamers."


    "Oh, right," said Kiyora. "Okay."


    The blood was taken, and band-aids were applied to the injury. Then, the doctor did the same to Gisora. "Okay, you are good to go."


    "Thank you," said Kiyora before looking at Gisora. "Well, let''s get going. My mom will be frantic when she finds out where I''ve been."


    "Mine too," said Gisora.


    As she walked back, Kiyora remembered what Felix had said. He''d seemed so certain that Laurus was behind this. But he needed to find out Laurus. Then again, Kiyora had only known him for a few months herself. But that was enough time to pick up if someone was an eldritch abomination. Even so, she had agreed to check.


    When Kiyora arrived back, Mom was waiting for her. She hugged her at once. "Kiyora, thank goodness you are safe. What happened at school?"


    "I don''t want to talk about it," said Kiyora. "I need the phone, Mom."


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    "Why?" asked Mom. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I need to talk to Laurus," said Kiyora. "It''s important, okay."


    Her mother let her go, and Kiyora rushed to the kitchen. Taking the phone off the hook, she dialed Laurus''s number and waited. And waited. Eventually, someone picked up.


    "Hello?" asked a cold female voice.


    "Hi, is Laurus there?" said Kiyora.


    "Laurus, phone for you!" snarled the woman. "Make it quick!"


    There was a moment of silence as the phone changed hands.


    "Who is this?" asked Laurus.


    "Hey Laurus, it''s Kiyora." said Kiyora. How was she supposed to ask him if he was a magical psychopath? "I um... I wanted to ask if you noticed anything strange while evacuating the school?"


    "Well, there were a couple of odd shadows," said Laurus. "Why do you ask?"


    "I... do you feel any different, Laurus?" asked Kiyora. "Do you ever feel like you aren''t in control?"


    "Sometimes, but it passes," admitted Laurus. "Listen, I can''t stay on the phone much longer. My mother is glaring at me. Gisora told me about what happened earlier today, and I have something I think you''ll want to see. Meet me at the library, okay."


    "That sounds fine; I''ll be there," said Kiyora.


    "Okay, see you then," said Laurus.


    There was an audible click as the phone hung up. Kiyora put down her end of it and sighed. What could Laurus want to show her?


    "Kiyora, is something wrong?" asked Mom.


    "I saw him again, Mom," said Kiyora. "I saw Laughing Wraith in school. Could you drive me to the library? I need to do some research."


    Mom remained silent. She looked like she wanted to say something. She opened her mouth but seemed to change her mind at the last minute. "If you want, Kiyora."


    They got into the car and began to drive, rain arttling off the windshield. As they did so, Mom kept looking at her strangely, looking almost guilty. Kiyora, for her part, had found one of her favorite books in the car. She began rereading it to distract from her worries. She was sure Mom would tell her sooner or later.


    Mom sighed.


    "Kiyora, there is something I need to tell you," said Kiyora. "I didn''t tell you before now because I didn''t think it mattered, but it does."


    "Mmmhmm?" asked Kiyora.


    "You are part of the line of Emperor Ictargo," said Mom. "Sixteen generations removed."


    Kiyora turned the page. "Hmm? Well, that would explain the lucid dreams."


    "The Royal Family has always had a strong connection to the spirit world." continued Mom. "And the Department of Bloodlines is always breeding stronger dreamers."


    "That''s interesting, I guess," said Kiyora.


    "Kiyora, could you put down your book and listen to me?" asked Mom in exasperation.


    "Mom, there are forty bajillion branches to the Royal Family," said Kiyora. "How does any of this affect me?"


    "Because I cut my ties with the family," said Mom. "I was supposed to marry into the harem group of someone who had been pre-chosen for me when I was a child. Instead, I married your father."


    "Okay, so it does not affect me at all," said Kiyora.


    "It does," said Mother. "They only allowed me to marry your father because he has an innate connection to the spirit realm. One very strong for a nonroyal. But his relationship is different from mine. The Royal Family can manipulate the spiritual realm far more than most dream. However, he can see into it much more rapidly.


    "He doesn''t just paint pictures of things he imagines, Kiyora. He paints portraits of things that exist. They are out there in the universe. That is a scarce talent. He wasn''t looking for a wife; the Department of Bloodlines feared they would lose him.


    "So they were willing to let me go since it helped them. But with all that has happened, I''m afraid they will want you for something. I don''t know what, but I felt I must tell you so you know."


    "Mmhmm," said Kiyora.


    "Kiyora!" said Mom.


    Kiyora laughed. "I''m just kidding, Mom. We''ll deal with the face-eating eldritch abomination from my darkest nightmares. Then we''ll worry about the Department of Bloodlines." She paused. "...Mom, the library is on your left."


    "Oh right," said Mom. "Sorry."


    Despite the missed turn, they managed to get in before closing hours. Kiyora went to the library while Mom went into the history section. Kiyora looked for Laurus and found him in the upstairs reading room.


    He was sitting at a desk with a massive binder beneath him. He was flipping through the pages; many pictures and newspaper articles were on it. Kiyora approached. "Okay, Laurus, what was all this about?"


    He looked up and smiled. He didn''t smile much, and Kiyora didn''t like the look of it. "Oh, glad you''re here. Look at this, Kiyora." He motioned to the book.


    Kiyora pulled up a seat and sat down by him. "What is it?"


    "My big half-sister Remedia made this," said Laurus. "She''s the one who got me into horror in the first place. It''s a compilation of newspaper articles from thirty years ago. Look at this."


    Kiyora did look reluctantly. She''d always been bold in reading the news. It was pretty boring. "It''s just the opening to a playground, Laurus," said Kiyora, looking at the following article. "What''s so special about-" Her eyes widened as she saw a photograph. "Oh."


    "Yeah," said Laurus. "That indistinct figure? That appears in a whole bunch of other photographs. Those children you see in the playground, this is the last recorded sighting of them. They all disappeared, as detailed in this article.


    "No one ever saw them again."


    "That''s creepy," said Kiyora.


    "You haven''t seen the half of it," said Laurus. "Look here, multiple reports of shadows moving, of strange creatures, and other disappearances. People were going insane and chanting the words ''he is laughing'' repeatedly. Sometimes, they drew them on walls, like here.


    "This guy wrote the words in his blood."


    "How has no one heard about this before now?" asked Kiyora.


    "Because the Department of Spiritual Defense didn''t want anyone to know," said Laurus. "See, spiritual threats are affected by people believing in them. If no one knows they exist, it limits what they can do. That''s why the DSD almost always finds nothing of note. Even if they did, they wouldn''t tell us.


    "At the end of it, they declared it had been a gang of thugs trying to scare people. And look at this: they launched a raid on all the news stations simultaneously. Officially, it was because of a bomb threat. I think they were trying to get rid of the evidence." He turned to the root computer. "Look over here. I looked up Laughing Wraith on a dozen search engines. Nothing. Zip. Natta. I probably would have been traced if I''d done it at home."


    He typed in a search.


    "He is Laughing. Same thing."


    "Maybe they just didn''t make any news articles on the branch about it," said Kiyora.


    "Oh come on, Kiyora," said Laurus. "News stations always remove articles when they have a political motive. The DSD doesn''t want anyone to know about this guy."


    "So what do we do?" asked Kiyora.


    "No idea. We''re teenagers; we''re not supposed to solve this kind of thing," said Laurus. "I figure the DSD can handle this."


    "But I''m being stalked by that thing," said Kiyora.


    "Want my advice?" asked Laurus. "Dye your hair blonde instead of blue. Then start wearing skirts that show off your legs and go around pretending to be super innocent. He''ll kill you last."


    "That''s not funny," said Kiyora, laughing despite herself. Laurus had a black sense of humor, but she liked it.


    "Whatever," said Laurus, shutting the binder. "I''ve got to get home before Remedia finds out I snatched this. See you tomorrow at school."


    "The school is totaled," said Kiyora.


    "Oh right, cool, guess we''ll have the day off," said Laurus. "Let''s hang out; I''ll meet you and the others at the comic shop." And he made his way off humming. Kiyora watched him go.


    "...He is in way too good a mood," said Kiyora.


    She spent an hour or two reading fantasy. No sense in wasting the trip. When she was done, she found Mom, and they headed home. It had started to rain while they were in there. As Kiyora stared out the soaked window, she hoped Laurus hadn''t gotten caught in the rain. If he had, his book might have been ruined.


    And books were important.

 Chapter 80 - Eight: Nightmares

    When they returned, they found Dad painting inside. Or rather trying to paint. His canvas was blank, and his brush was dry. He just sat there looking at the canvas with an unreadable expression. Then he looked up like someone waking up from a bad dream. "Oh, Kiyora, how was the library?"


    "Fine," said Kiyora. "I was looking up some stuff about what happened at the school."


    "Well, I''m just glad no one was hurt," said Dad, shaking his head. He stood up from his canvas. "Oh, there is something you should know. While you were gone, we got a visit from an agent from the Department of Spiritual Defense. Some spiritual malaise has spread throughout the city.


    "They are distributing these." He brought up a bag and drew out three bottles of pills.


    "What are they?" asked Kiyora. She took them and opened them, seeing they were blue.


    "Pills, meant to cut off one''s connection to the spirit realm," said Dad with a sad look. He looked depressed now. "We''re to take these for at least the next two weeks. It''s a shame; I hoped to paint tomorrow."


    "You paint every day," said Kiyora, raising an eyebrow. She was feeling worried. "And aren''t you worried?"


    "Not really," admitted Dad. "It is probably some eldritch creature from beyond the stars or elder god or something to that effect. These sorts of things happen every twenty years or so. It''s nothing to worry about."


    "Well, I''m not taking them, Dad," said Kiyora. How could he be so calm about these things? "I''ve got things to do in the Dream World. They''re important."


    "Sorry, Kiyora, you''ll have to put it on hold," said Mom. "We''re legally obligated to take these."


    Kiyora looked at Mom seriously, then at the pill. She considered pretending to take them. Then she remembered something. Returning to the dream world meant seeing more of Wraith''s handiwork. All of a sudden, letting William handle it seemed reasonable.


    William could handle it, couldn''t he? I mean, he''d survived everything Kiyora had. And he''d had less protection in the process. And he''d have Duke Vanion, Rusara, Raynald, and all the others to help her. Plus, this DSD plan could work and save the world. And not cooperating with it could cause problems.


    "Fine," said Kiyora. "Let''s just get this over with."


    She entered the kitchen and poured herself some water to take the pills. It wasn''t fun. She nearly threw up when she tried to drink them with water. So she coughed it up and poured the water out before getting milk instead. But the pill had gone all mushy, so it was even more unpleasant. She thought she''d throw up for a moment, but she got it down. As soon as she''d finished, she felt suddenly exhausted. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she went to bed.


    When Kiyora awoke the next morning, the world seemed drab and gray. All the color had gone out of her action figures. The food on the plate set before her by Mom looked strangely unappealing. Everything seemed wrong. And she couldn''t imagine things. It was like she was reaching for something in the dark. She knew it was there, but someone snatched it when she got a hand near it.


    "Good morning, Kiyora," said Dad, coming down. "How are you?"


    "I...I didn''t dream, Dad," said Kiyora. "I haven''t dreamed in as long as I can remember. There is a place where... where my memory just stops. And then it starts up again when I wake up."


    "This is the sort of thing that other races have to deal with daily," said Dad.


    "How do they handle it?" asked Kiyora. William lived like this?


    "I imagine one gets used to it," said Dad. "Still, at least you have the day off."


    "Well, that is kind of cool, I guess," said Kiyora.


    There was something else Kiyora should be thinking about. Something significant. Something which had terrified her. But it was snatched out of her reach by something. Something had taken it from her.


    "Dad?" said Kiyora.


    "Yes," asked Dad.


    "I went to the library yesterday," said Kiyora. "Did I say why?"


    "No," said Dad. "Why do you ask?"


    "Because it''s all a blur. A lot of things are a blur," said Kiyora. "I can barely remember anything about the dream world. Can you?"


    "No. It''ll make painting very hard." mused Dad. "Still, I might as well try."


    They finished breakfast quickly. It was perfect, but Kiyora couldn''t enjoy it for some reason. She got up early and went to the door. "Hey, just so you know, I will meet Laurus at the comic shop. See you."


    "Just be careful," said Mom.


    Kiyora began her long walk. As she did so, she suddenly became aware of a great tree ship floating through the air far above. The tree at the center was of a military-grade, and the branches gleamed with magic.


    "A military tree?" murmured Kiyora. "What could it be doing out here in Actovosh? They never bring those things this close unless it is something severe. Is it that bad?" sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Was it that bad? She couldn''t quite recall. Eventually, she visited the comic book shop but found no sign of Laurus. Abruptly, she remembered she hadn''t agreed upon an actual time with him. It had seemed to her that now was the right time.


    That was strange.


    "Hey," said Laurus.


    Kiyora jumped in surprise. She turned to see him leaning against the wall, smoking another cigarette. "Oh, Laurus," said Kiyora. "You scared me."


    "I get that a lot," said Laurus.


    Then Kiyora noticed that he had a bruise on his cheek. It was a nasty one. "What happened to your face?"


    "I fell," said Laurus. "It isn''t any big deal; I put ice on it. My dad-" He halted.


    "Yeah?" said Kiyora.


    "Nothing," said Laurus. "He says that the DSD is worried about something. They''re bringing in some serious power. That tree ship up there is the Ascendance. They must be apprehensive about Him."


    "Who?" asked Kiyora.


    Laurus looked at her like she''d grown a second head. "Don''t you remember? Laughing Wraith."


    Now she remembered. "Right, right, now I do. Hey, how does your dad know all this?"


    "My dad works in the DSD. And my mom has a job analyzing the content of a pharmaceutical company. The one distributing the pills they''re passing out." said Laurus. "It turns out that our school wasn''t the first place he hit."


    "What do you mean?" asked Kiyora.


    Laurus drew out a newspaper and showed her the headlines. "Look at this."


    "Pharmaceutical analysis team committed en masse," read Kiyora aloud.


    "My mom called in sick on that day," said Laurus. "Which means she was the only one who wasn''t affected. She ended up having to examine the whole thing herself. I guess I got lucky."


    "That is not lucky," said Kiyora. "Why are you so calm about this?"


    "I guess it hasn''t set in yet," said Laurus.


    "Hey, Laurus!" called Gisora as she rushed up to them. "I got that info you wanted!"


    "Gisora?" said Kiyora. "What information?"


    "Oh, Laurus and I have been gathering information on this monster thing," said Gisora. "The DSD is going to take him out soon enough, but I want to know as much as I can about it before they cover it all up."


    "What makes you so sure they''ll fix it?" asked Kiyora.


    "You''ve been taking your medicine, haven''t you?" asked Gisora. "The whole city has been cut off from the spiritual world. Pretty soon, Laughing Wraith''s power will shrivel; they''ll find and finish him off."


    "Yes, yes, we all know that," said Laurus. "Now, what did you find?"


    "Turns out that ship above us, the one coming here. It has a special team of trained Dream Sages on it," said Gisora. "They''re our age, but they fight monsters like this kind all the time."


    "So they''re child soldiers then," said Kiyora.


    "No, they''re specially trained operatives," said Gisora.


    "Who are children," said Kiyora. "And therefore are child soldiers."


    "Well, sure, but most people, as they get older, stop connecting to the dream world as much," said Gisora. "It makes sense that they''d want to use younger people. Anyway, they''re going to kill Laughing Wraith."


    "Sure they are." scoffed Laurus. "Where is Reya anyway?"


    "I went to her house," said Gisora. "She isn''t feeling very well."


    Something needed to be fixed here. Something didn''t add up. But what? She turned over everything she had seen and heard in her mind. And suddenly, it dawned on her. "...I have to go."


    "Why?" asked Gisora.


    "Not now!" said Kiyora.


    Then she turned and ran. Ran as quickly as she could with all her might. She got home and didn''t stop running until she threw open the door and entered her house. "Mom, I need to use the phone now!"


    Mom was reading in the living room and looked up in surprise. "Why?"


    "I need to call the DSD," said Kiyora.


    "What about?" asked Mom.


    "I... I think that someone might have screwed with the meds they are handing out to everyone," said Kiyora.


    "What do you mean?" said Mom, closing her book and standing up.


    "I was talking to Laurus just now," said Kiyora. "He said that his mother was one of the people in charge of examining the medication. Everyone in her department was hospitalized except her. If she got affected by Laughing Wraith, then... then he might have screwed with the medicine.


    "He''s done this before, Mom; I need to call them now. I need to call them so they can recall it before... before anyone else gets hurt."


    Then Mom leaned in and wrapped her arms around Kiyora. "You don''t need to worry, dear. It''s already too late."


    Her grip began to tighten. Kiyora struggled with it. What was going on? "Mom, Mom, you are hurting me..."


    Mom''s arms were now around her neck, crushing in like a vice. "Don''t worry, dear; I will strangle you. It''ll be a lot less painful than what Master Wraith intends to do to everyone else."


    "Mom, please..." gasped Kiyora. "Please let go..."


    This wasn''t her. Mom would never do something like this! She had to get free! Had to escape! The grip loosened only a little as the embrace continued. "Years and years ago, he ran wild over many cities. He fed off of the suffering and misery of those he hunted. And whenever he came close to killing him, he simply fled into the dream world. However, the DSD figured out how he operated. They cut him off.


    "His power waned, and he was banished back to oblivion.


    "But now, thanks to you and Laurus, all that can be set right."


    "Mom... don''t... kill me..." gasped Kiyora.


    Her vision was going dark. She couldn''t breathe. She couldn''t do anything. Mom was too strong. He was laughing...


    No.


    Kiyora freed an arm, grabbed a lamp, and smashed it against Mom''s shoulder. Mom screamed and fell backward as the lamp shattered, and Kiyora turned to run into the next room.


    "Come back, Kiyora! Come back!" said Mom. "There isn''t anywhere you can run!"


    Kiyora found Dad''s painting. "Dad, you have to help me! Mom, she''s..."


    Dad turned around, and she saw the painting. It was a face too terrible to describe. It was the worst thing anyone had ever seen in their darkest dreams, multiplied by a thousand. But what was worse was Dad''s face. He was smiling and looking very attentive.


    "He is laughing. He is laughing. He is laughing..." said Dad.


    "Kiyora, come back," said Mom. "We aren''t done."


    Kiyora ran for the other door, but Dad was in the way. So she went for the window. She got it open but found the screen in the way. She fumbled with it as Mom and Dad closed in. Then she realized she didn''t have time.


    She punched the screen repeatedly, breaking it off, and slipped through the window. Her hand hurt. Dad caught ahold of her shoe, and she was held in place. Hauling on it, she pulled it off, got to her feet, and ran.

 Chapter 81 - Nine: In Darkness

    He was swimming in a sea of blood. The limbs of the slain reached up to grab at him, and William could hardly keep his head above water. He gasped for air, grabbed out for anything, and found a chain.


    Pulling himself up, he tried to get away from the grasping corpses. Then he realized that blood was soaking his hands. The chain was made from bone and tendon, and far above him, he saw the face of his enemy. But it was only Tanith, drenched in blood.


    He screamed and fell backward into oblivion as the chain broke.


    He awoke, grasping for his sword, and found himself safe. Around the ashes of the campfire were the rest of his group. Felix was on watch, a little ways off.


    "Bad dreams?" asked Felix.


    "I see them, Felix," said William. "The faces of the people I''ve healed."


    "That''s ironic." mused Felix. "Usually, one sees those they have killed."


    "They all thought I did it," said William as he stood and moved to stand beside him. "Every village we visit, everyone there thinks I''m the one who did it. And every time I think I''ve seen the worst Laughing Wraith can do, he proves me wrong."


    "We''re done with the villages now," said Felix. "I''m sure you''ll be able to distract yourself from your healer''s guilt soon. Try ending the lives of some sentient creatures."


    "Don''t take that tone with me, Felix." snapped William. "You had the luxury of sitting outside the village while I tended to the wounded."


    "You had the luxury of only facing Laughing Wraith for a day or two!" shot back Felix. "He hunted me for nearly a week. Every moment was a living nightmare. You''ll forgive me if I''m less than sympathetic about you having to heal a few cuts."


    The disrespect in his voice set something off in William. Felix was a servant. Yet because of their history, he presumed to treat William with disrespect. It didn''t matter that no one else was around to see. Before he knew what he was doing, he grabbed Felix by the throat and shoved him down against the ground. The other boy grappled with him, trying to pull him off. His fingers tightened their grip as naturally as breathing. Then it dawned on William what he was doing, and he pulled back in horror.


    "Felix..." William said. "Felix, I-"


    Felix rubbed his neck. "Forget it. I know exactly what it is to come into direct contact with Wraith''s will. I''m surprised you didn''t do something like that sooner."


    "How... how did you survive all that time?" asked William. "Weren''t you affected by him?"


    "When I got back to you and Kiyora, I had these impulses," said Felix, "murderous impulses on an emotional level. They hit you repeatedly until they seem natural, and then you start falling victim to them."


    "So how did you keep from acting on them?" asked William.


    "Wraith confuses you on an emotional level," said Felix. "I convinced myself that killing you or others would be suicidal. Monsters respond better to pragmatism than they do morality. Even the monsters of the heart."


    "You''re a lot stronger than I am," said William.


    "Well, you were the one who said it, not I," said Felix. "With your permission, William, I''d like to go on ahead and scout a bit. If you''ll take my watch."


    "Of course," said William.


    Felix disappeared into the shadows, and William took his watch as promised. Soon enough, he was joined by Tanith, who was an early riser at the best of times. She sat down next to him and began cleaning pieces of her armor. Neither one of them said anything for a while; they just sat there.


    "How long ago did you leave Carn Gable?" asked William.


    "Three," said Tanith. "I was Raynald''s squire, remember? And you were still a complete weakling."


    "I was," admitted William. "Seathorius did wonders for me."


    "Well, I guess if you didn''t have it in you to be strong, you would have died." mused Tanith. "I''m jealous, though. I mean, I''ve been going around fighting in all kinds of skirmishes. But you got a better reputation than me just by writing a book and publishing it."


    "That was Father''s idea," said William. "And I don''t see why it should make me anything special. I just wrote down what happened to me and got it published because of my rank. I''m sure you''ve had plenty of adventures like that. You should write some of them down."


    "Well, I do have a few," said Tanith. "I doubt I''ll have many from this campaign, though. There is no glory in this. Or profit, for that matter."


    "No, there isn''t," said William. "Still, those people needed our help, Tanith. There was no shame in helping them."


    "Yes, yes," said Tanith, "but I joined Raynald to get rich robbing Calishans and winning renown. Not to go around watching you heal the sick and injured and trying to keep me from throwing up.


    "Besides, I was talking about Wraith."


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "When I started as a mercenary under Argath Marn, we raided Calishan shipping. We plundered them from all over," said Tanith. "Then, one day, we got bold and risked an attack on a Calishan coastal settlement. I was against it at first, and others were, but once we got into the thick of things, it was addicting. We took a lot of enslaved people, stole everything we could, and burned everything we couldn''t.


    "We must have killed at least a hundred Calishans, probably more. I remember we put a bunch of their elderly, you know, the ones who wouldn''t sell on the slave market. We barricaded them in a house and set it on fire.


    "I remember hearing those heathens screaming. It was the best day of my life." She was smiling wistfully. "The best part was when I had my way with a priestess beneath the sight of Baltoth''s statue. It was great."


    William stared, remembering the dream. You thought you knew someone, and then this happened. "Elranor above! Why would you do that?"


    "They''re enemies," said Tanith. "Besides, we ended up rescuing a bunch of Harlenorian prisoners. The Calishans had done the same thing to us. An eye for an eye, you know. Where was I?"


    "Laughing Wraith, profit, and glory," said William.


    "Oh right," said Tanith. "Anyway, we never did anything like this. Wraith didn''t take anyone to sell as slaves. He didn''t kill anyone. He didn''t even steal anything. He just did this to make them suffer. It''s sick."


    "But you enjoyed causing suffering to the Calishans," noted William.


    "Sure, but that was part of the crusade," said Tanith. "The Calishans killed Anoa IX and ended our golden age. We have a right to rape and murder them; they do the same thing to us. Wraith is just doing all this for fun."


    William needed to learn how to respond to this. He should pretend the whole village burning thing didn''t bother him. Yes, he could focus on her hatred of Wraith.


    "Well, that''s why we need to stop him," said William. "Besides, we''ve dealt with all the villages now. And Father has Lord Asimir under siege. Once we''ve captured him, we should be able to stop Wraith." He sighed. "I wish Massacre was here."


    "What, the chimera?" asked Tanith. "How did you tame that thing anyway?"


    "I didn''t," said William. "She likes my music and hangs around me to listen to more of it. I asked her to come with me, but she didn''t want to. I''m not sure why."


    At that moment, Felix came out of the shadows of the hills above them. His hand was on his sword. Tanith looked up. "Where have you been, Felix?"


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "Scouting ahead," said Felix. "Lord Asimir''s castle is breached. Duke Vanion is launching his assault as we speak. We''re too late to join the fight."


    "Thank Elranor," said William.


    "Damn it!" said Tanith at the same time. "All of you up! Get your armor on! We''ve got to join the battle and see some goddamn excitement! At least before this miserable war ends with us the victors! Come on!"


    The men got up with much kicking and swearing by Tanith to move them. Soon, everyone had donned their armor and moved through the rocky hills. Tanith was in a fury and drove them on without rest.


    It was a wasted effort. By the time they came out of the hills, they saw Lord Asimir''s castle flying the banner of House Gabriel. Screams could still be heard from within, but from the looks of things, the battle had ended. The village outside the castle was intact, oddly enough. William had expected to see it in flames.


    Father''s pavilion stood beyond the battle. A man was being escorted toward it none too gently, and Raynald was with him. William quickened his pace and soon reached the pavilion as the man was being dragged in.


    "He is laughing... he is laughing..." muttered the man.


    "On your knees, you worm!" snarled Raynald. "And speak plainly, or I''ll cut your throat."


    "Tanith," said William, "could you wait outside?" Having Raynald and Tanith in a negotiation could be overpowering.


    "Right," said Tanith, "maybe reinforcements will arrive for me to fight."


    William was let through by the guards and found the man he had seen standing unsteadily in front of Father. Father had his hands clasped before him as he sat in a chair as though he were on a throne. The man was gasping.


    Father glanced up to see William and nodded before turning his attention back to the man. The man was perfectly ordinary in appearance. You could miss him in a room where only he was standing. He wore a yellow doublet that was stained with blood.


    "You have much to answer for, Lord Asimir," said Father. "Laughing Wraith has been wandering the realms tormenting your people. And you have done nothing. Agents of Calisha have been operating on your doorstep, and you have done nothing.


    "Explain yourself and why I shouldn''t have you hung?"


    "It wasn''t my fault," said Asimir. "I never intended things to get to this point."


    "Really?" asked Vanion. "You defied my demand that you open your gates and surrender to my justice. How do you account for this?"


    "I didn''t have a choice!" said Asimir. "None of us did! We could hear him laughing, and it was all we could do to question it. You don''t know what having him inside your mind is like. You do things even though you know you shouldn''t!"


    "Father," said William, "what he says is true. I was nearly driven to attack a lifelong friend from moments in his presence."


    "I see," said Father, "Very well, Lord Asimir. Tell me everything that has led to this point, and I will consider showing you mercy."


    Asimir paused. "I... it started years ago when Argath Marn was the governor. My family we had... we never supported Harlenor coming in, even if we never said it. We loved Calisha and would have given our lives for Baltoth."


    "So you made a deal with Laughing Wraith?" surmised Father.


    "It didn''t start like that. At first, it was just patriotism," said Asimir. "A young man named Korasus approached us. He had been a mercenary in the Calishan army and said he wanted to make sure Calisha could retake Artarq. But to do that, they had to be supplied with malas. Malas was the key to all of it, you know.


    "A sorcerer who takes it has their powers heightened. If the Calishans had no, it would give your kind a terrible advantage. So we helped him. We gave them some of the malas from the mines and were paid. Argath Marn looked the other way and got a cut of the profits, and everything worked."


    "And then Argath Marn was removed for corruption," mused Father. "I begin to see where this is going."


    "Yes, you came in, and we couldn''t bribe you," said Asimir. "You wouldn''t negotiate. You brought in your armies and made everything go your way, cracking down on the gangs. Our profits were decreasing.


    "Then, a few years ago, Korasus came to me. He said he had a new plan to take Artarq away from Harlenor once and for all. He had been reading some ancient texts. He believed that releasing the goddess Typhos would cause great chaos. Enough for Calisha to seize control of Artarq.


    "He asked permission to begin digging on my territory, and I granted it. I fancied myself a patriot."


    "Then what?" asked Father.


    "At first, everything went well," said Asimir. "But when we came to the seal... it was too great. The gods themselves had made it. It would take a being of massive power to break it, even weakened.


    "Everything ground to a halt.


    "Then Korasus met with a boy named Laurus a few months ago."


    Laurus. So Felix was right.


    "Laurus said he had a plan that could break the seal. Laughing Wraith would put elements of his spirit into the malas we took. Then, we would sell it to the common people at a loss.


    "It worked wonders. Gradually, they became addicted, and their wills were subverted. And over months, Laurus began to ebb away at the seal. But... but things started happening. Villagers kept reporting a strange, horrifying figure appearing around them. I saw him a few times myself.


    "He never killed anyone, but people started to have... bad dreams. Night terrors awoke them screaming. Korasus assured us that progress was being made. That soon, the seal would be broken.


    "Then, just a few days ago, Laurus appeared. He said that the power he was getting from the malas was waning. That someone was breaking his hold over them. And he said he had to cause pain and horror among the villagers."


    "And you let him, you damn coward!" roared Raynald.


    "I didn''t!" cried Asimir. "I refused! I told him I wanted nothing more to do with him, but then... He appeared. He had been inside Laurus all along. He appeared, and he wouldn''t go away until I agreed! I tried, but... I couldn''t say no! I couldn''t!"


    "Well, I think that just about tells us what we need to know," said Father. "Lord Asimir, you are a fool and a traitor, and to slay you would be within my rights. However, I am inclined to be content with stripping you of your rank and title. Provided you lead us to this dig site at once. Perform your duties properly, and you may live through this and have a chance to rebuild what you lost. Betray us, and I can assure you your family will not.


    "Understand?"


    "Y-yes, Duke Vanion," said Asimir.


    "Good," Father smiled. "Take Lord Asimir to his family and treat them with dignity. I want no atrocities put upon his people. They have suffered enough."


    "Vanion," said Raynald, "the men have been slogging through this for weeks. If we don''t let them loot the place, they won''t be happy."


    "Yes, I suppose not." mused Vanion. "Very well, we will seize Asimir''s treasury and distribute some of it among the men. Just don''t destroy any artwork or bring harm to the people. Reinforce that this is a mission of mercy and liberation upon an imprisoned populace."


    "As you wish," said Raynald.


    Everyone else filed out. However, Father motioned for William to stay. At last, the tent was empty save for the two of them. Except for Felix standing by the doorway, he didn''t count. Father made his way over and looked over William. "Well, you''ve had your first experience of campaign life. How is it?"


    It''s best to put on a bold front. "I can''t complain," said William. "I have shoes and food to eat, so I think I''ve already seen worse during my trip to Seathorius."


    "Yes, I suppose you have," said Father. "You have learned that war is lengthy periods of unpleasant boredom. That and brief stints of terror. I don''t know what your mother sees in it.


    "Do you have anything new to report?"


    "I... yes," said William. "Kiyora was right. Wraith is pure evil."


    "What is evil, William?" asked Father.


    "Wrong actions," said William. "Things you shouldn''t do."


    "And why shouldn''t you do them?" asked Father.


    "Because they aren''t right," said William.


    "And why aren''t they right?" asked Father.


    "Because," William paused, "because they hurt people."


    "I see," said Father. "Do you believe it is wrong for a brother to sleep with his sister?" S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Of course," said William.


    "Why?" asked Father. "Who are they hurting?"


    William thought about that. He wasn''t comfortable with this topic, but Father had asked a question. That is a very odd question. Where was he going with this? "Um, the children who would be born. Their souls would be incarnated in flawed bodies. And their families with scandal."


    "I see," said Father. "So what if Rusara came up with a spell that prevented the negative effects of inbreeding? What if, thanks to that spell, society changed to accept incest as right? Would it change from being wrong to being right?"


    "No!" said William. "Right and wrong don''t change just because people want them to change. The gods laid down them long before this world was even born."


    "Ah," said Father, "so you would appeal to the authority of the gods as the ultimate source of right and wrong, would you?"


    "Yes," said William.


    "Yet the gods themselves have differing opinions of what is right or wrong," noted Father. "When you heal a man beset with a horrific disease, are you doing a good thing, William?"


    "Yes," said William.


    "What about the disease?" asked Father. "It feeds upon the person. Much like we feed on animals, we hunt. You are harming it when you use magic upon it."


    "This is absurd, Father," said William. "You can''t think that incest and flesh-eating diseases are good things, can you?"


    "Of course not," said Father. "To me, they are abominations. However, others may have a different opinion. And some of those others are gods. The truth is, son, I don''t believe there is such a thing as good and evil as we understand it. What we think of as good is a survival reflex of sorts.


    "Societies which acted a certain way survived. Those who acted otherwise imploded in on themselves and were wiped out. Thus, our ideas of right and wrong. Ultimately, evil is merely our most destructive impulses let loose without restraint."


    "But Wraith is evil!" said William.


    "Yes, of course, he is," said Father. "We both agree on that. Our difference is that I believe that evil is an entirely subjective affair. While you believe that he violates laws laid down since before the dawn of time."


    "So you believe that if believing something is right makes it so?" William halted, trying to grapple with the idea. "That whether Wraith is evil or not is a matter of opinion? You can''t believe that."


    "I can believe something, even if it isn''t a pleasant thought," mused Vanion. "What of you, William? What if tomorrow Elranor came down from on high? What if he proclaimed that murder, theft, rape, and lying were now good? That mercy, charity, love, and truth were now evil?


    "Does Elranor love good things because they are good? Or are things good because Elranor loves them?"


    "I..." William halted. "I don''t know."


    "Good answer," said Vanion. "It is never wrong to admit you don''t know. Unless you are in public, you must pretend everything is going according to your plan. There is something to be said for the appearance of omniscience." Then he turned and looked at Felix. "Still, I must commend you, Felix. Your judgment of Laughing Wraith was quite accurate."


    "Thank you, milord," said Felix.


    William seized at the chance for a change of subject. "What I want to know is how was this Laurus able to hide his true intentions from Kiyora? She sounded like she was close with him."


    "We can ask him when a sword is at his throat," said Vanion. "For now, take this time to rest. In the morning, we resume the hunt once and for all."

 Chapter 82 - Ten: The Battle of the Ruins

    A few days later, the army came within sight of the ruins. Along the way, they had met up with many Dust Elves, who had also been mobilized. Their numbers were about one thousand, perhaps a third of all the Dust Elves in Artarq. William hoped they didn''t suffer serious casualties; elves had trouble replacing losses. That was why Anoa the Bright had done as well as he had.


    Though, given the quality and range of their bows, perhaps he need not worry.


    The levy infantry had to be chided and driven to keep moving. Most of them were inexperienced with the fast marches Vanion''s veterans used. Even with the paved roads, they were exhausted. It kept constant effort by their officers for them to set up a real camp. By the time they had started, everyone else was nearly done. William had spent a lot of time healing those who fell victim to heat and exhaustion. Many would have died from the journey if he hadn''t had his powers. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As it stood, they all got there.


    William remembered his first experience with making camp. These city folk didn''t seem well prepared for this life. Still, they''d get better once they had to do it a few dozen times. William, Felix, and Tanith had, and they''d been children when they learned it.


    Even so, William was surprised at just how weak living in a city made you.


    "Look at these weaklings," muttered Tanith. "It''s hard to believe any of them have Harlenorian blood. Let alone Haldrenian."


    That was true. Many of them were as fair-skinned as any Harlenorian warrior. But they lacked the discipline and strength, to say nothing of the willpower. They could do much better than they were, but they thought they were at their limit.


    "Lay off them, Tanith," said Raynald. "We''re breaking them into the life.


    "You can''t expect a partially trained man to do as good as a veteran."


    "Yes, Raynald," said Tanith.


    Once Father had a loyal army of levies at his disposal, he would no longer be dependent on outside help from Antion. They could fill out his forces. But what if they were corrupted? Couldn''t some local nobility call on their loyalty to local elites?


    Father probably had a plan for that, or he wouldn''t have done it.


    It hardly mattered at this stage, so he put it aside for later.


    At last, William looked to the ruins and knew them immediately, though he''d never seen the outside. They were small, no larger than one of the moderately sized temples in Arsheen. The stones were of a dusty tan color, and the masonry was broken in many places. Many pillars were still standing, though much of the roof had fallen in. It was much less impressive than William had been expecting.


    The ruins had not been made to be a defensive fortress. However, it might make a difference against a weaker enemy.


    Even so, it was surrounded by a large square wall that had been recently repaired. On it were many rough-looking satyrs, clad in furs. They wore axes and bows, and above their heads was a banner bearing the emblem of a roaring black lion.


    Father looked down at it as his soldiers assembled. He raised a hand, bringing them to a halt. "Is that the place?"


    "Yes, it was uncovered some years ago," said Asimir, who was being watched like a hawk. Several guards were always near him and had been for the whole journey. "No one dared go up there before Korasus."


    "Those banners bear the symbol of the worshippers of Fortenex," mused Father. "How does he factor into this, I wonder?"


    "Mercenaries, no doubt," said Raynald. "Satyrs will sell their souls for a fight and some gold. They''re more reliable than people in some ways. Give the order, Vanion. I''ll raze that temple to the ground."


    "Not yet, Raynald," said Vanion, raising a hand. "We''ll allow them to surrender first. Assemble our forces for war. Tanith, offer them the flag of conversation."


    "As you wish, milord," said Tanith. She didn''t look particularly happy at the notion of being a herald. Why not? It was a great honor.


    Tanith seemed to guess William''s thoughts as the flag was handed to her. "It''s dangerous. Satyrs sometimes like to shoot messengers when they feel like sending a message. If I''m going to die in a puddle of my blood, I''d rather do it surrounded by the corpses of my enemies."


    "Good luck," said William.


    "Elranor, don''t fail me now," said Tanith as she walked off.


    Tanith approached the walls, her cloak and blonde hair flying around her in the wind. It was a signal representing the desire to meet between commanders. Moving forward, she unfurled the banner and waved it. There was the twang of bows, and arrows began to whistle past her. One of them bounced off her left pauldron as she rushed back. An arrow shot through the shoulder of her cloak, and she fell but rose again and rushed on. Her armor had blocked it.


    "Those bastards!" she roared. "Did you see that? No sooner had I come in range and they tried to shoot me!


    "Now, can we kill them all?"


    "Unfortunately for you, we do not need to confront them directly," said Vanion. "They''ve just shown me how far they can shoot. And we can shoot farther." He looked to the leader of the dust-elven archers. "Amenos. Move forward and unleash hell. Raynald, have the spearmen form a shield wall before the archers to repel any attempt to sally forth! Tanith fell one of the trees here and build a ram."


    "Yes, sir," said Tanith, looking frustrated.


    Father gave out many other orders, and the men complied with practiced efficiency. William took a seat on a rock behind the archers and watched.


    The dust elves pulled back their composite bows in unison. For a moment, they held, faces still.


    "Loose!" cried Amenos.


    Then they launched their shafts. A vast wave of arrows arched overhead and landed amidst the satyrs. Many were shot down in moments, falling from the walls. The sound of screams could be heard.


    Then the dust elves fired again. This time the satyrs had fitted together with their shields to defend and did better. Their archers shot back but to no avail. All of them fell short. And some of the satyrs fell dead.


    The dust elves fired again.


    William watched with morbid fascination. The Dust Elves were not to be trifled with. Then the gates were thrown open! A vast war cry was unleashed as the satyrs charged forward, roaring defiance to the heavens!


    The dust elves slightly adjusted their target and fired into their midsts. Most of the berserkers died in seconds. A few of them rushed back into the relative safety of the walls. Those who did not were too few to do anything but die against the shield wall.


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    "This is just pathetic," said Felix.


    "Depressing is the term I was thinking of," said William. "What I don''t understand is what the satyrs are doing here? Fortenex isn''t allied with Wraith, to my knowledge."


    "Raynald is likely right," said Felix. "Perhaps they are mercenaries."


    "No," said Father. "Our satyr allies in Khasmir tell me that the worshippers of Fortenex are a minority. They have been fighting a losing war for generations. I doubt they have time to serve as mercenaries."


    "Then why help Wraith?" asked William. "They are a long way from home."


    "Likely some infernal alliance or other." mused Father. "Perhaps they hoped Wraith would assist them in their wars. It is not presently relevant. Remember, William, speculation about the nature and plans of your foes is valuable. But it should never detract from how you deal with the here and now.


    "The past is dead. We live in the present. And the future is determined by what we do now."


    "Where is Rusara anyway?" asked William. "I was hoping to speak with her, but she still hasn''t gotten back yet."


    "You don''t suppose I''d have all my best lieutenants committed in one place, do you?" asked Father in good humor. Several screams rang out. "No, Rusara is watching the river with Sarris. This would be an ideal time for Calisha to move against us while we are distracted, putting down a rebellion. Never get so focused on one enemy that you forget the others."


    "I understand," said William.


    "Doesn''t that contradict what you said before, Lord Vanion?" asked Tanith suddenly.


    "In a way, you are right, Tanith," said Vanion. "What is a wise policy in one situation is usually abysmally stupid in others. All men are living contradictions."


    "Like how Gail Arengeth declares that we ought to have nonstop war with the spawn of Baltoth," said Tanith. "And then works to try and avoid a war in Gel Carn, even when necessary."


    "Or when I put on the mask of a civilized and courteous man, even as I brutally slaughter whole armies," said Vanion. "Most people firmly believe things in theory and then fail to execute them when it comes to it.


    "If you become aware of your hypocrisy, however, you can work around it."


    "I act as I believe," said Tanith.


    "You realize that our objective is a truce with Calisha, don''t you?" asked Father. "Why support that if you truly believe in unending war?"


    "It''s a strategically sound move," replied Tanith, dodging the question. "The longer we maintain control over Artarq, the more secure our hold is. If we can force Baltoth to a stalemate, things will only go badly for him in the future."


    "You were quite vocal in criticizing Benarus'' policy toward Telix," noted Vanion. "Surely the same argument could hold there. A stable Gel Carn will be better able to fight Calisha."


    "Telix doesn''t hold any official rank in Calisha," said Tanith. "Killing him off could be done quite easily with few long-term consequences. If that means wiping out the Black Dragon race, so be it. The gold they hoard could pay for a dozen campaigns."


    "And there you see the danger of thinking only of the moment," said Father, looking to William. "Gold cannot buy goodwill. And misplaced valor can rapidly destroy it.


    "A victory over Adrian Wrynncurth would have been a costly one and would have left a power vacuum. Other, less reasonable, enemies of Harlenor would have filled. The giants have been growing in number, after all. And if it had been a defeat, Antion should have had to intervene directly. That would have created a second front and made our task all the harder."


    Tanith looked away, a shadow coming over her eyes. Why did she appear guilty? "Would you prefer to have the spawn of Baltoth regarded as an equal in negotiations?"


    "My entire strategy hinges on solidifying my gains by negotiation," said Vanion with a shrug. "You cannot maintain an empire purely by battles. They are a critical part of any strategy, but any victory will be hollow without the ability to negotiate.


    "I''m afraid you''ve spent too much time with Argath Marn and Arengeth."


    "I agree," laughed Tanith.


    The screams of agony could be heard coming from within the fort now. Corpses were lining the walls as more and more arrows fell. William shifted, feeling uneasy at the turn this conversation had gone. "So, this seems to be going well."


    "Yes," said Father. "It is. Asimir''s fortress was the real threat. This is little more than a mop-up."


    "And I had to miss that," muttered Tanith. "Why don''t they have better bows? I might have seen their action there."


    "That, at least, cannot be held against them," said Father. "Dust Elves have some of the finest bows in the world. Only the Calishans have come to match them, and then only with their elite units."


    Another volley was shot.


    "Duke Vanion," said Tanith. "can we charge?" Her voice was eager and girlish.


    "Wait a while longer," said Father.


    Tanith looked impatient. "What are we waiting for here, anyway?"


    "Until all or most of them are dead from arrow fire," said Vanion. "I brought a great many extra arrows."


    William shifted. Tanith wanted to fight, but she had been denied that so far. She hadn''t changed; in the old days, she''d always been pressing people for spars. Tanith usually won these. He decided to change the subject. "The Dust Elves have certainly lived up to their reputation."


    "They always do," said Father. "Dust Elves are not an enemy you ever want to fight."


    "Duke Vanion," said Tanith, looking impatient and annoyed. "This strategy doesn''t become knights of Harlenor! We should be meeting them in direct combat, cutting them down honorably! They can''t even defend themselves. Where''s the fun in this?"


    "They should have considered that before they tried to shoot my messenger," said Father. Another volley was launched.


    "Vanion, let me engage them," said Raynald, returning. "We''re wasting time here. I''ll lead the charge myself."


    Father paused. He looked at the fortress and then at his men. They were eager to fight and disappointed at the lack of action. On the walls, nothing alive could be seen. He walked up to Amenos and spoke with him. The volleys ceased, and Father came back. "I believe that puts an end to things. Raynald, move in and secure the temple. If you find any prisoners, free them. Kill everyone else. When someone violates the rules of war, they lose their protection. Treat your enemies with mercy and courtesy when they play by the rules.


    "But when they violate them, crush them into the ashes of history. Let their fall demonstrate what happens to those who abandon common decency."


    "Isn''t that a bit much?" asked William.


    "They violated parley," said Father. "My patience is exhausted."


    William tapped Felix on the shoulder as everyone began to move out eagerly. "Felix, let''s go."


    "Why are we going?" asked Felix.


    "I want to see this Laurus up close," said William. "And put my sword through him if I can manage it."


    "As you wish," said Felix.


    William had been expecting Felix to object. He wasn''t sure how to react. "Are you alright?"


    "No, I''m not alright; I''ve seen the same things you have," said Felix. "Watching this Laurus get hacked to bits sounds downright cheering right now. Let''s go."


    They followed after the army as it advanced. No arrows were shot from the walls. While the ram was brought forward, they began bashing it against the gates. And not while the gates were flung open. It broke so easily.


    Beyond, they saw bodies. A lot of bodies. They were flung across the courtyard, riddled with black-feathered arrows. Blood was everywhere, and the scent of death was sickening.


    "This is not a glorious way to win," muttered Tanith. "Even the gate was disappointing."


    "You don''t imagine they had time to replace it with proper defenses, do you?" asked Raynald. "And it worked. We still get to loot them. Sometimes the easy victories are refreshing."


    William wandered among the dead, not agreeing. The soldiers of Harlenor descended on the bodies like vultures. Some among the dead were Calishans, others satyrs, but none of them were held in any respect. Men stole whatever they could find. He knew these were worshippers of a demon god, serving a monster, but the entire affair made him feel ill. Then he saw the stone. It was large, half-submerged in the ground, and it was splattered with blood. There was a glowing orange rune on it. He kneeled by it to examine it.


    "We''ve got one over here, Raynald!" called a man. "A survivor!"


    "Please... please help me..." said a voice.


    "Why are you consulting me?" snapped Raynald. "We have our orders. Finish him."


    "No!" cried the man. "Please don''t hurt me!"


    ''Wait!'' said William, standing up.


    There was a scream cut short. Raynald looked up in surprise. "William, what''s wrong?"


    How was he supposed to explain this? These were his enemies. If he showed compassion for them in defiance of his father''s orders, it would make them look weak. He looked at the runes. "Look at this. Look at this rune."


    "What is it?" asked Raynald, coming forward.


    He kneeled and began to analyze it. "These are blood runes. They absorb the life energy of anything killed near them and send it to something. Usually an object like a gem, but in this case, it''s a person."


    He looked to the temple. And then he realized that they were too late. "Oh, no," He drew his sword and rushed toward the temple doors.


    "Wait, William!" called Raynald. "Come back!"


    "Wraith has been playing us!" roared William. "We have to stop him!"


    He made it through the temple doors and saw the same place he had before. There was the gate, standing there, and there was Wraith. Or so William assumed. It was Wraith; he could tell by the sheer aura of horror surrounding him. Yet as he turned around, William saw a face just like his own.


    "Laurus, I presume," said William.


    Laughing Wraith smiled. William charged forward, blade in hand. And then the gate opened, and there was only light.

 Chapter 83 - Eleven: Flight

    Kiyora had just gotten away from her house before people began to shamble out of every door. They had broad, unnatural smiles, and they walked after her. Kiyora ran all the faster, her bare feet hurting on the sidewalk as she did so. Her heart was pumping, sweat-drenched her brow as they came in around her; her feet ached, and her mind reeled. Where was she going to go now? What did she do?


    Kiyora needed help; she had to get out of here.


    "He is laughing," They chanted as they came after her. "He is laughing. He is laughing. He is laughing.


    "Shut up!!" roared Kiyora. "Stay away!! This can''t be... this can''t..." She needed help. Help!


    Then there was a flash, and William was there, sword in hand. The light surrounding her sent the possessed people reeling back, crying out.


    "Kiyora!" said William.


    He was real! Kiyora hugged him before she could stop herself. "William, how did you get here?"


    "How in Elranor''s name should I know?" asked William. "Who are these people?"


    "I uh... okay, Laughing Wraith has possessed many people in this city," said Kiyora. She was leaning on her knees and panting for breath. She had not been ready for today at all. How had Laughing Wraith done all this? Outmaneuvered the DSD so handily? No, wait, Kiyora knew how it happened, and now he had Mom and Dad. And Kiyora only had William for help in stopping him. "I need your help to break the spell."


    The chant began again. "He is laughing. He is laughing."


    William shoved her off him and raised his sword. "One moment."


    Wait a minute? Was he going to start killing people?! "William, we can''t kill these people, we can''t?!"


    "Well, then, what do you suggest?" asked William.


    "Let''s just run until we can figure that out," said Kiyora.


    And run they did. Kiyora led them mindlessly through the streets as quickly as she could. She didn''t have a destination in mind. Where was she supposed to go? She didn''t know where to start.


    It was a good thing that no one was pursuing them very quickly. People came out of their houses, but they were slow to respond. Kiyora was relieved at that, but she didn''t understand it either.


    "I don''t get it," she said. "Mom and Dad were completely possessed. Why would Wraith be so slow to move these?"


    "The possession is not very strong on them," said William. "I sense a presence here, but... it feels stretched thin. Laughing Wraith may be having trouble controlling his minions. If so, that gives us the advantage." He paused. "These buildings are strange. They look as though they have been formed from living wood. But how is that possible?"


    "Actovosh formed them on our behalf," said Kiyora. "You see, he uses his roots to grow the basic shape of our house. We ask Emperor Ictargo for permission to construct a place, and if he grants it, Actovosh does it for us. Then we build around it."


    "Surely, there are limitations." mused William.


    "Of course, there are," said Kiyora. "But we don''t have time for that! Mom and Dad are possessed! We need a plan." S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No, we need a safe house," said William. "Somewhere, there are few people. I doubt Wraith will take long before he learns to use his new puppets more skillfully. We need somewhere people don''t usually go."


    "Good idea," said Kiyora. "We''ll go to the library."


    She led him on with a new resolve. They could beat this; they really could. Kiyora and William just had to keep their heads above water long enough to find a solution. But what might Laughing Wraith do while they were treading water? He could be killing people or causing all kinds of horrible things? They had to move fast. But how could they move faster than they were right now?


    No, stop panicking. Just focus on what you have to do right now and make a plan when you have something to make a plan with. Kiyora and William had to stay alive right now. And there was the rub. It wasn''t long before the possessed began to gather again. This time, they came from both directions in great crowds. They were moving faster, running at them with empty eyes.


    "He is laughing; he is laughing, he is laughing!" They chanted.


    They were surrounded. William looked around, then threw aside the fold of his cloak and drew out his harp. "Elranor, guide my hands."


    "William, I don''t think this is the time to play music!" said Kiyora.


    "No, it is a perfect time," said William.


    Then he began to play. A sad melody flowed through the streets as he ran his fingers over them with a master''s skill. It resounded throughout the surrounding area. All the possessed who heard it sank to their knees. They screamed in horror before suddenly collapsing. More came, and these, too, succumbed to the music.


    "That''s working? How?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''m channeling the power of Elranor through my music." said William. "It seems to be disrupting the spell."


    "Do you have to hurt them?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''m not hurting them," said William. "They are merely expressing the suffering Wraith is inflicting on them. I think. Now, come on, let''s get out of sight."


    Kiyora led them on over the unconscious bodies of the possessed. None of them moved, though some could be heard sobbing in a low voice. Kiyora felt sick. How had Wraith done all this? She knew how, but this wasn''t supposed to happen!


    William looked at it all like it was business, which disturbed Kiyora. What had he been doing all this time? She didn''t want to really know, so she didn''t ask. They got to the library and found it abandoned. Anyone who was once inside it had left in a hurry. Shelf after shelf of abandoned books was there, with no one to read them.


    "Are you sure this place is safe?" asked William.


    "Sure. This is a library. No one ever comes here," said Kiyora.


    "It is different from the other buildings," said William.


    "It''s made of brick and stone," said Kiyora. "See, it was originally built as a church to one of the lesser races'' gods. So it wasn''t appropriate for Actovosh to form it. He is a sacred tree, after all." Why was she so calm? She should be freaking out.


    "That would explain the bell tower," mused William, locking the doors. "Now, I need you to tell me what is happening?"


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    "Okay, you know how Laughing Wraith possessed a lot of malas and sold them to people to feed off them?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said William. "What of it?"


    "Well, he did the same thing here," said Kiyora. "Only in our case, he possessed a substance which the people trying to stop him spread to the entire city."


    "So, the entire city has been subverted?" said William.


    "I think so," said Kiyora.


    William looked contemplative. "This is not within my abilities to fix. And since you called me, it isn''t within your abilities either. We need help."


    "Right, right, okay," said Kiyora, thinking. "Um, we can see Escalus at the Department of Spiritual Defense. Maybe she escaped it."


    Someone smashed against the window, cracking it. Kiyora leaped back as William drew his sword. People were crowding at the door. Fists were breaking through the windows and scrambling for the door handle.


    William drew back his sword to cut off one of the hands, but Kiyora caught his wrist. "We can''t kill them! Now come on!"


    They fled as the door burst open behind them. The possessed streamed through, chanting as always. They fled up a flight of stairs as more came in through some side entrances. William looked to where the possessed were scaling the stairs after him. Breaking free of Kiyora''s grip, he drew up his harp and began to play as they scaled up after him.


    The music played again, and the creatures let out a screech. Yet this time, they didn''t give up. Something in the air forced them to keep walking forward, even as they screamed. When one fell into unconsciousness, the others stepped over their body. Dozens were failing because of the music every second. Yet slowly, the possessed were climbing over the bodies of the fallen toward them.


    "Kiyora," said William, "find a window! Now!"


    Kiyora nodded and turned. No windows within reach here. But a back door led out onto a terrace with stairs. But even as she went to open it, she saw the possessed coming in through the terrace. Very soon, they would be surrounded.


    Wiliam was giving ground. The shadows grew longer around them, taking the shape of claws, and seemed to reach out. And Kiyora thought she heard the sound of laughter.


    "There isn''t any other way out!" said Kiyora before looking upwards in desperation. "Wait, wait, the bell tower! This was a church! We can get out using the belltower!"


    "Where are the stairs?" asked William.


    "They''re, um..." Kiyora paused. "There aren''t any. We''re screwed."


    "You are a god!" roared William. "Can''t you use some of your godpowers to get us out of here?!"


    "I''m not a god here!" said Kiyora. "That''s just in my dreams. Here I''m just your everyday average high school girl!"


    "Then why the hell am I here?!" snapped William.


    Oh, right, William''s presence indicated that she could use her powers here. She closed her eyes. Okay, okay, she was the Dreaming Goddess. She had the power. She could do this. She looked deep within herself and saw only a fantasy. She tried to grasp it, but it slipped through her fingers whenever she reached out.


    Well, so much for that idea.


    She opened her eyes and saw the possessed closing in around her. They were falling too slowly, and he was laughing. This was it.


    "Don''t give up!" cried a voice. "You have the power to stop this. You always did."


    Kiyora didn''t know why, but the words she heard filled her with strength. Suddenly, she felt her dreams and fantasies flowing up over her. A warmth grew in her heart as she saw a glow emerge from her hands. The possessed were mere feet away, and one grasped her hair.


    No.


    Kiyora felt her power. She needed only to unleash it.


    Blue energy flowed from her, sweeping over the crowds of possessed. There was a terrible scream of rage, and then the possessed collapsed around her. All of them fell to the ground, looks of relief on their faces. Kiyora was standing where she was, suddenly very tired. Her legs hurt, and she fell forward.


    William caught her.


    "Kiyora," he said, "are you alright?"


    "Yes," said Kiyora, standing up.


    She realized how close she and William were standing. He also admitted it because they separated and turned away at the last minute. The unconscious forms of hundreds surrounded them.


    "So, where is this Escalus?" asked William.


    "I don''t know," admitted Kiyora. "I guess we could head to the school and retrace my steps. But I wasn''t paying attention to the directions the truck took."


    "Very well, we''ll make a new plan of action," said William.


    Dead silence. Kiyora looked at William expectantly. "Well?"


    "I''m trying to think of something," admitted William. "Let me see; Laughing Wraith is controlling the entire city. That means he has to have a place where his will is fully focused. A place that gives all the directions. The effects should stop if we can find and destroy that place."


    "Should?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''m guessing somewhat," William said. "When I use the powers Elranor granted me, I have to focus it through something, whether it is my harp or my hands. What I am focusing on determines a lot of things. But I have no idea where that might be."


    Kiyora remembered her conversation with Laurus. "I have a hunch that might find us it."


    "Yes?" asked William as he followed.


    "I think, and I could be wrong, he might have focused his power on a pharmaceutical plant," said Kiyora.


    "What is a pharmaceutical plant?" asked William.


    "A place where drugs are made. Not bad drugs, good drugs. Or they were before Laughing Wraith corrupted them." said Kiyora.


    "Perhaps," said William. "However, it could also be a person."


    "You mean Laurus," guessed Kiyora.


    "I saw him, Kiyora," said William. "Or someone identical to me. He is working for him."


    "That doesn''t make sense, though," said Kiyora. "He gave me all kinds of information on Wraith. If he hadn''t told me about all this, I would never have figured it out alone."


    "Wraith possesses many people," said William. "Laurus may be possessed as well."


    "Right, that must be it," said Kiyora. "Now, how do we find out where this plant is?"


    "Well, we are in a library," noted William. "Are there any records in this place?"


    "Now that is crazy talk," said Kiyora. "I''m going to consult the tree spirit."


    "Tree spirit? You mean that Actovosh thing you mentioned?" asked William, raising an eyebrow.


    "See, um, this whole city is built around a giant tree, Actavosh," said Kiyora. "The city was named after it. By communing with the tree, we can come into contact with the thoughts and desires of many other people. We can also leave messages and stuff like that. There is a whole system for finding directions."


    "What if Laughing Wraith has possessed that as well?" asked William.


    "It doesn''t matter," said Kiyora. "You can remain anonymous while using it, so it''s fine." She sat down and closed her eyes. Then, she focused on gaining the information she needed. She looked into Actovosh, who looked back into her. Soon, the information presented itself. She opened her eyes and stood. "Okay, I''ve got the directions. It''s called Iron''s Pharmaceuticals. We''d better get going."


    "We should find a way to get there without being seen," said William.


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora. "Let''s get out of here first, though."


    They took a long time picking their way past the unconscious bodies. They were lying everywhere for nearly a mile. By the time they got beyond them, it looked like they had knocked out a dozen neighborhoods. Kiyora hoped no one had died. William was right; they had to do something to avoid this.


    As they made their way onto the street, Kiyora realized how much her foot hurt. She hadn''t noticed it until now because she was in such a rush, but now that she had a moment, she was. Her feet ached like hell, and the socks she had been wearing were torn to shreds.


    Oh, and her parents had tried to strangle her.


    Everything was happening so quickly, and she didn''t know how to react to it all. She needed to avoid any more confrontations like that. Sooner or later, someone was going to get killed. Then she saw a manhole cover in the pavement. An idea occurred to her. It was a very unpleasant one, but it would probably work.


    "Actovosh," she said, opening her mind, "could you open that for us? And once you do that, could you lead us to Iron''s Pharmaceuticals?"


    There was no verbal response, but roots suddenly shoved aside the manhole cover. Kiyora walked over and began to climb down, followed by William. Then she covered her nose at the smell. The ceiling was low, and the air was putrid.


    "What is this place?" asked William.


    "The sewers," sad Kiyora. "Actovosh, give us some light, will you?"


    Sparkles emerged from the roots on the wall, illuminating a path. They followed it, trying to ignore the stench and being careful not to step in anything as they did so.


    "Are you certain this tree knows the way?" asked William.


    "Sure, Actovosh listens to everything we say," said Kiyora. "He knows this city better than anyone." She wanted to throw up. "Hey, William."


    "Yes?" asked William.


    How could she say what she needed to? "Do you think we can destroy Laughing Wraith''s power, even if we find it?" asked Kiyora. That wasn''t it at all.


    "I don''t know," admitted William. "If I were him, however, I would concentrate all the best fighting men of the city around it. If he approaches this rationally, we''ll have serious problems before the end."


    "Maybe we should contact the Ascendence," mused Kiyora. "It''s a tree ship hovering above us. They could help us."


    "What manner of ship hovers?" asked William.


    "I... well, tree ships. See, we have this special kind of tree which courses with magic," said Kiyora. "And we build ships around them that can channel their power to destroy our enemies. They came here specifically to kill Laughing Wraith."


    "If I were Laughing Wraith, my first move would be to destroy them then," said William.


    "Could he do that, do you think?" asked Kiyora.


    "It depends on whether or not he has corrupted the cities'' defenses. If they can destroy such a vessel, he could," mused William. "Has he?"


    "I don''t know," admitted Kiyora.


    Suddenly, the illumination stopped. They halted there for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. Then, there was a grinding noise from the ceiling. The wood gave way, and many vines and roots grew downwards to form a ladder.


    "That''s weird." mused Kiyora. "We haven''t been walking for that long. Why would Actovosh want us to head upwards?"


    "I don''t know," said William. "However, I will be glad to be out of the filth. I''ll climb up and call for you when it is clear." He drew his sword. Then, he scaled swiftly up the ladder and disappeared.


    "You can come up," William called. "We''re safe."


    "Already on it," said Kiyora.


    "He is laughing..." murmured a distant voice. "He is laughing..." So that was why Actovosh had ordered them to move.


    Kiyora scrambled up, pulled herself up, and found that William had already created a light. No sooner had Kiyora''s legs cleared the entrance, and it closed behind her, shutting them in. Looking around, Kiyora saw that they appeared to be standing in a cellar. There were all kinds of canned foods left around them. Kiyora only then realized how hungry she was.


    She tried to distract herself and turned her attention to the stairs. They led up to a heavy door of living wood. As they approached, it seemed to come to life.


    The door opened, and what they found within looked like some kind of armory. Racks upon racks of weapons could be seen. There were no doors or windows to the outside in either direction. What Kiyora did see were shoes. Quickly stripping off her ruined socks, she got into the boots.


    "This appears to be some manner of safehouse," mused William. "Did you know of such places?"


    "No," admitted Kiyora. "But I know I''ll never take shoes for granted again."


    Or not being chased by possessed people.

 Chapter 84 - Twelve: Manifestation

    There were other kinds of weapons and equipment in the safe house. Kiyora found scimitars on the walls and buckled one on with some help from William. As she did so, it dawned on her how hungry she was. Her stomach was aching like an empty void was inside it. When was the last time she ate anything?


    "You want to see if we can find something to eat here?" asked Kiyora.


    "It is worth a search," said William.


    The search took a few minutes. After some time, Kiyora found several months'' worth of emergency rations. They were in some metal crates in the cellar and open. She gladly helped herself, tearing one open and beginning too much.


    Emergency rations had never tasted so good.


    Then again, Kiyora had never really eaten emergency rations before. Neither had she been chased around by possessed elves. Or had she ever been rescued by a knight in shining armor? Not in real life, anyway.


    But then the dreams were looking more real by the minute.


    Now, if only William would say something. Instead, he was just sitting cross-legged there, playing his harp. He looked dashing. Kiyora shook her head as she felt a blush creep to her features. Why was she thinking like this?


    She would outlive him by centuries anyway, although reincarnation was a thing. Who had William been in his past lives?


    "Hey," she said, "isn''t that chainmail heavy?"


    "Yes," said William. "However, I''d much rather have the protection. Rusara enchanted it to ward off more force than ordinary chainmail."


    Silence again.


    "It''s a long way to Iron''s Pharmaceuticals, isn''t it?" asked Kiyora.


    "Possibly," said William, "however, we do not know where it is."


    "Oh, right," said Kiyora. "Do you want some emergency rations?" She offered him a bar.


    "I''m not hungry," said William. "I don''t feel tired at all. I just hope Raynald and the others are alright."


    "Don''t worry," said Kiyora, "I find that time in this world doesn''t match up with time in the dream world, y''know. Or, I thought it was a dream world."


    She finished her emergency supplies. Then she filled her pockets with several more and stood. "Well, we should probably keep moving. Actavosh, where to next?"


    There was a low vibrating, and then the wall pulled aside to reveal a passage. It wasn''t complete, but the wood was shifting before her eyes. Kiyora could feel Actavosh suffering in the air. Even the youngest trees had trouble moving themselves like this.


    But she got the idea. It presented itself to her in her head. Turning to William, she tried to put it into words. "Actavosh is making us a passage that will lead us straight to Iron''s Pharmaceuticals. It... it is hurting him, but he''s doing it."


    "Then we shouldn''t waste his efforts," said William. He clearly did not understand things. "I''ll go in front."


    They began to make their way down the passage. It was continually shifting and turning and heading steadily lower. It would have been a maze if there had been more than one path. Yet William walked forward carefully.


    Kiyora hated the feeling of the scimitar at her side. It was heavy and kept getting in the way. Also, she needed to learn how to use it. "Um," said Kiyora, "how do I use the scimitar?"


    "It wouldn''t do me any good to explain it if you don''t already know," said William. "Frankly, I would have much rather given you an axe. Those are fairly easy to use."


    "Or a bow," said Kiyora.


    William looked at her as though she''d grown two heads. "What do you mean?"


    "Well, I guess I''d have to practice shooting, but a bow doesn''t require a lot of strength, right?" said Kiyora. "So, it''s better for a weak person."


    "You have never used a bow," said William. "A bow which a weak person could use would also be fragile and next to useless in battle. The best bows are complicated to pull back, so launch a faster arrow.


    "Like Dust Elven bows."


    "So, do you know how to shoot one?" asked Kiyora.


    "No," said William. "I''ve been trained, but I''m awful at it. I have never hit a target in my life, in battle or practice. After I accidentally broke one of Rusara''s bows, she stopped trying to teach me."


    "How did that happen?" asked Kiyora.


    "I pulled it back, and it snapped," said William. "I''m a lot stronger than the average person my age. It has something to do with my heritage."


    "Ah right," said Kiyora. "Your mother is an Amazon, right?"


    "She''s the daughter of a Queen of the land of Themious," said William. "The males there are very unimpressive. They do what satyrs refer to as ''woman''s work.'' That''s all I know. She never talks to me about anything except to assure me that I have some grand destiny. I generally pretend Themious doesn''t exist."


    "Aren''t you curious, though?" asked Kiyora.


    "Not really," admitted William. "Not curious enough to press Mother to talk about something she isn''t ready to talk to me about anyway. I''m sure she''ll tell me when the time is right. What about you?"


    "Hmm?" said Kiyora.


    "Who is your family?" asked William. "You''ve asked me many questions, but I don''t know anything about your life here in this realm of gods."


    "It''s not a realm of gods." laughed Kiyora. "Or at least I don''t think it is. Well, my dad is a famous painter. He paints pictures of other worlds. They''re great. I can show you them sometime. My Mother, um, she tells me I''m a Princess.


    "She kind of cut her ties with her family."


    "Why would she do such a thing?" asked William, horrified.


    "They wanted to force her into an arranged marriage, I think," said Kiyora.


    "And what is the problem with that?" asked William.


    "I guess she didn''t love the person she was supposed to marry," said Kiyora.


    "I don''t see your point," said William.


    "Um, well, it would be wrong for someone to marry someone they don''t like, wouldn''t it?" asked Kiyora.


    "No," said William. "That''s how marriage for nobles works. Sons and daughters are married for the benefit of the family. They must abide by those rules."


    "Didn''t your dad make a deal with Melchious because he didn''t want to marry someone he didn''t like?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said William. "But it was a mistake."


    "A mistake that you owe your existence to," noted Kiyora. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Hardly," said William. "He could have refused dealings with Melchious and still met and fallen in love with my mother."


    "He was already engaged when he met your mom?" asked Kiyora. "Wasn''t he?"


    "That''s different," said William.


    "How?" asked Kiyora.


    "My father broke off an engagement to the daughter of a powerful Lord to marry a Princess," said William. "It was an upgrade."


    Kiyora looked at him seriously. "Do you honestly think of things like that?"


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    "I must," said William. "Love is a secondary factor in marriage. At least to nobles."


    It only then dawned on Kiyora that William did not think like she did. She liked him, and he was a nice guy. But to him, a village getting burned down could be okay if it was his enemy. He lived in a world of obligations and blood and glory.


    "Hey, William," said Kiyora, "do you like adventures?"


    "No," admitted William. "Not during them. But I enjoy telling people about them later. And I like winning glory for my family. And even if I didn''t like them, I''d still be obliged to seek them out."


    Their conversation died out as they began to hear the distant echoes of explosions. Kiyora listened carefully and could hear chanting. "What is going on out there?"


    "I don''t know," said William, "however, the path is beginning to climb. So we are heading for the surface."


    As they walked, Kiyora gradually began to feel a vague ache in her head. It was a presence whispering to her in her mind. There was a voice telling her that she was in danger. Was she in danger? No, there was no one here but William. Was he the danger?


    No, that was just stupid. William would never do anything to hurt her.


    How did she know that? He came from a bloody and terrible world. Was he here to help her? Or was he merely biding his time to strike? It was insane to think that, but wait. William''s body was tensing; his hand gripped his sword as if to use it.


    She had to stab him! Stab him before he killed her!


    "No," said Kiyora.


    It was fascinating to look at. It was like Kiyora was looking at herself from the outside, except she was still inside. Kiyora felt like her body was only an extension of a far greater whole. Looking at herself, she saw the energies of Laughing Wraith. They were trying to drive her into insanity.


    But she wasn''t just Kiyora Yagos, a scared schoolgirl. If Laughing Wraith was real, then the Dreaming Goddess was also real. And that thought scared Wraith; Kiyora could sense his fear now. He was terrified of facing her. Afraid of what might happen in a second confrontation.


    Even now, he realized his efforts to affect her were in vain. So he turned his mind to William, who turned to face her with a look of fury. But the Dreaming Goddess raised a hand, and the hatred faded from his eyes.


    "Ugh..." said William, putting a hand on his forehead. "I... my head hurts so much..."


    "Wraith was playing games as always," said Kiyora. "Don''t worry; he can''t affect you anymore. Not while I''m here. Now come on, we''re nearly there."


    Soon, they came to a dead end. But as soon as they neared it, the wall opened, and they found themselves in a concrete hallway. The sound of the explosions was nearer now. Kiyora walked quickly to the head, followed by William.


    "What is all that noise?" asked William.


    "The military has gotten involved," said Kiyora. "The possessed military units have begun trading fire with the treeship Ascendance. Of course, they''ll drive it off, but it should keep them distracted while we make it to the center.


    "We''re going left here."


    "How do you know the way?" asked William.


    "Let''s just say I''ve achieved enlightenment," said Kiyora. "Here is the elevator."


    Pressing the button, they waited until the doors opened and entered. Waiting within, William eyed her with a certain suspicion. "Kiyora, Actovosh isn''t guiding us anymore, is he?"


    "Actovosh is an ancient tree," said Kiyora. "Moving suddenly hurts him and takes a lot of energy. He doesn''t do it except in emergencies."


    "But I thought you said he used his roots to create the foundations of houses," said William.


    "Yes, but he forms them over months, not minutes," said Kiyora. "He''s in a lot of pain right now and won''t be able to help us. Don''t worry; I can handle Wraith. Just like before."


    The elevator doors opened to reveal Laurus. He looked awful. His hair had turned white, his eyes were bloodshot, and his skin was pale. And he was also holding a military-grade shotgun.


    "So I was thinking," said Laurus. "How could I possibly kill a being whose very existence is antithetical to my own? And then I had this brilliant idea: I''d just shoot her."


    "Laurus," said Kiyora, "what is going on? Why are you helping Wraith?!"


    "Sorry, I''d love nothing more than to chat," said Laurus. "But I''ve got small animals to torture, puppies to kick. Y''know, generic doomsday villain things."


    He was hesitating. But if Kiyora made a move, she would probably set him off. "Listen to me, Laurus. Put the gun down. You don''t need to go this."


    "Don''t need?" asked Laurus, eyes filled with horror. "Who says I don''t want to do this?"


    "I know you," said Kiyora. "You are my friend. Wraith has been getting into your head and-"


    Then she was shoved to the side, and Kiyora hit the elevator wall. William''s sword was out and spinning toward Laurus. The boy ducked too late, and it gouged a deep gash in his shoulder. Screaming in pain, Laurus fired a shot blindly.


    It went wide, and then William was on him. His hands wrapped around Laurus'' neck, slamming him against the floor. Laurus choked and gagged.


    "William, don''t kill him!" screamed Kiyora. "It isn''t his fault!"


    William hesitated. Then Laurus let out an inelven screech and struck William across the scar. The wound began to bleed, and another blow threw William off him. William grabbed his sword and rushed at Laurus, but Laurus had already gotten his gun.


    He fired twice, and William was thrown back, covered in shrapnel and bleeding. Was he dead? He couldn''t be dead!


    Laurus stood up, looked at William, then at his hands, then screamed and ran sobbing through a far hall. Kiyora ran to William. "Come on; you can''t be dead! You can''t be!"


    William''s chainmail was shredded. His chest was a bloody mess, and he was gasping for air. One of his eyes had been destroyed. He wasn''t breathing. Kiyora put her hands on him. She could sense he was still alive, but he wouldn''t be for very long.


    She was the Dreaming Goddess. She could save him!


    Reaching into him, she sent her power through him. She couldn''t heal him, but maybe he could heal himself if she could wake him up. She poured herself into bringing him back into the waking world, and his one good eye slowly opened.


    William awoke, screaming. He screamed as the shrapnel came out of the wounds, which closed behind the shards. His eye mended itself as all the rest of his injuries closed. He gasped for air, pulling off his shattered chainmail and getting unsteadily to his feet.


    "What were you thinking, you idiot!" screamed Kiyora. "He had a gun, and you decided to go after him with a sword!"


    "He was threatening you," said William.


    "What if you had died?!" said Kiyora. "How could I have explained it to your friends and family?! ''Sorry, I dragged your only son into my world to fix my problems, and he got himself killed!''"


    "And what if you had killed Laurus? What would I have told my friends and his family?"


    William tried to force himself to stand but fell. "We have no time for this. Where is Laurus?"


    "I''ll take care of Laurus," said Kiyora. "You are going to stay here and recover. You just healed about a thousand lethal wounds."


    "I need-" he began.


    Kiyora hugged him. "I am talking to you as a goddess. Not a friend. I don''t need you for this. Now lie there and recover." She broke the embrace, and they looked at each other for a long moment. Then, finally, Kiyora turned to walk toward Wraith and Laurus.


    She found the door ajar and beyond was utter darkness. Whatever had once been in this room now, there was only an infinite void. The sound of screaming could be heard within it, reechoing repeatedly. Among them were William''s screams. And her own.


    Kiyora realized she was listening to every victim Laughing Wraith had ever targeted. She felt a knot in her stomach as she made her way forward. Who was she to stop this thing? Sure, she was a goddess, but Wraith was also a god. No, no, she could do this. She knew she could do this.


    But what if she couldn''t?


    Then she saw Laurus. He was standing in the void, holding a pistol, just looking at it. His injury had healed, but his clothes were still ripped. He seemed almost skeletal as she approached. He raised his gun.


    "Stay back!" said Laurus.


    "Laurus, this isn''t you," said Kiyora, keeping her eyes on his face.


    "Laurus? Laurus? That''s what you call me, isn''t it?" said Laurus, voice broken. "I... I can feel him in my head. I''ve always felt him there, but he''s stronger now. I... I can''t speak what he is saying to me, but I''ll try to translate." His eyes suddenly flickered black.


    "What are you?" asked Kiyora.


    "He is the shadow which every child looked at and thought hid a monster. He is the fear which grips the heart of every creature afraid to go out at night," said Laurus. His eyes gained a semblance of vanity. "Thirty years ago... when I was eight... he... he stalked the world. But the DSD... they managed to shut him out.


    "Out of everyone. But he... he found me and put part of himself into me. That part slept... even though I didn''t know about it. Then... then I started to have nightmares. I... I became something, something cruel every night. I did things, terrible things.


    "Then you banished him from the dream world. He had nowhere to go but back into me. He... he used my mind, my knowledge, to make a plan. You see... he... he doesn''t think like us. He hates reasoning like he hates everything. But he wanted to win. So he used my mind to... to corrupt the medicine. He put a little piece of himself into the vats.


    "It hurts... it hurts so much.''


    "Laurus, you have to believe me," said Kiyora as she approached. "This will be okay."


    "I can''t get him out of my head!" said Laurus. "I can''t! He''s always there! Whispering." Then suddenly, he moved his gun upwards, putting it against his throat.


    Kiyora surged forward and knocked his hand away even as he fired. The shot went wide. Then Kiyora hugged him, channeling her full will into him. "And so am I. Get out of my friend, you monster!"


    Her will meet Wraith''s malice, and she saw visions of endless victims tormented and ruined. She saw images of untold horrors perpetuated across hundreds of worlds. She could hardly bear it. What was she to such atrocities?


    Laughing Wraith was a being beyond the comprehension of mortals and immortals alike. Merely being in contact with him pained Kiyora more than anything she had ever felt. She wanted to pull back. Maybe William was right. Perhaps the only solution was to kill...


    No. She thought of her family and how sad they would be if she died. She thought about her friends. How would they react when they discovered what had happened to Laurus. She thought of Laurus'' family and people she''d never met who would be worse off if he was dead. And she realized that she could not afford to let this happen.


    "He... he is Laughing..." muttered Laurus incoherently.


    "You are nothing!" roared Kiyora. "Nothing but formless cruelty and sadism! You love nothing. Value nothing! You care about nothing! You pretend like you''re this transcendent being, but you''re not! You''re no better than a schoolyard bully picking the wings off sparrows!"


    Laughing Wraith recoiled, more hurt by her than he had ever hurt anyone. He was screaming and screaming as the light around Kiyora grew ever brighter. In desperation, the monster gripped Laurus around the throat.


    "If you banish him, I''ll die," said Laurus.


    It was a transparent lie. "He can''t hurt you anymore," said Kiyora. "I won''t let him hurt anyone ever again. Now get out of my friend! GET OUT OF MY WORLD!!"


    There was an unholy shriek of absolute agony. The light flared outwards beyond the room, beyond the building, brighter and brighter. Soon, it reached across the whole of the city. Kiyora could see everything: every street, tree, and person. As one, people were roused from their pains and pulled out of the nightmare.


    They found themselves in places they had not expected to wake up. But they were alive. Years from now, this would be nothing more than a bad memory.


    The vision ended.


    Laurus slumped against her shoulder. His hair had returned to normal, along with his skin. He gasped, and Kiyora slowly put him down. She felt very lightheaded. She fell to her knees and then fell forward into another dream.

 Chapter 85 - Thirteen: Waking

    If it was a dream, it was a strange one. Usually, when Kiyora dreamed, she saw all kinds of exciting things. This time, though, she felt at peace. She was lying in a field of flowers; they weren''t the flesh-eating kind she''d seen either. Just regular, ordinary flowers.


    The aches and pains from constant running were gone. So was her sense of divine supremacy. Standing in this place, she felt she was as real or fake as anyone else. It was hard to describe.


    "You''ve done well, Kiyora," said a voice.


    Kiyora turned and saw her. She was as beautiful as the descriptions of her indicated. More beautiful. Her hair was as golden and bright as the sun, yet it did not hurt the eyes. Her eyes were as blue as the brightest oceans, and she wore shining white garments.


    "Alchara?" asked Kiyora. "What is going on?"


    "You have exceeded my expectations," said Alchara. "Laughing Wraith''s hold over this world is now broken, wholly and completely. Yet your task is not yet done."


    "What do you mean?!" asked Kiyora. "This is the second time I''ve had to kill him!"


    "Things have a way of getting resolved the third time around," said Alchara. "This will not be easy. His efforts in this world were, in their way, a success. The horror and fear he has inspired in those he possessed have made him strong.


    "Now he has broken the seal on the god Typhos."


    Kiyora blinked. "Who?"


    "Typhos," said Alchara. "The goddess of monsters whose temple the paladin repurposed for your worship."


    "Oh right, him," said Kiyora. Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Her," said Alchara.


    "So, um, you want me to stop this Typhos person then?" guessed Kiyora.


    "Let us say I would prefer you to be present at the final confrontation," said Alchara. "Elranor will make his move soon, and I want you to be there to observe it."


    "Great," said Kiyora. "I thought we were almost done."


    Then Kiyora awoke. Or going to sleep, or whatever. She realized she should have post-traumatic stress disorder. Yet she wasn''t feeling it. She pulled herself up and found herself in the middle of a city. There were people all around her, but they were all sleeping. Some were writhing on the ground, and others had looks of absolute horror painted on their faces.


    The sky above them was black with unnatural darkness. It wasn''t like a cloud; you couldn''t imagine rain falling from those clouds. Or even acid. The very presence of the clouds hurt, and Kiyora averted her gaze. Yet that meant she had to look at the people suffering.


    William appeared, kneeling by her. "Kiyora, are you alright? Can you stand?"


    "Says the person who took two blasts of a shotgun to the face," muttered Kiyora as she stood. "What happened?"


    "You collapsed, and then I found myself here," said William.


    "Where is here?" asked Kiyora.


    William looked around. "This is Arsheen, and I think we''re in the Merchant district."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Kiyora.


    "Look there," said William, pointing to one of the unconscious people. "There is Vensus."


    "Okay," said Kiyora, "so what do we do now?"


    "Typhos'' energy escaped Wraith, but I think I know where it will go," said William. "To the Temple of Typhos. Your temple. Let''s move."


    Kiyora walked with him in something of a daze. She felt lightheaded as they stumbled on as if the air was too thin for her. Her head hurt. Looking at the people around her, she began to feel what they felt. Falling to one knee, she gasped as she saw horrible images.


    She wished she could help them, but she needed more power.


    "Kiyora, we have to keep moving," said William.


    "I can feel it," said Kiyora. "They are... they are having nightmares. Terrible nightmares, worse than anything you''ve ever felt."


    "Whatever they are feeling, it will stop once we kill Laughing Wraith," said William. "Now, come on, we have work to do. Can you teleport us there?"


    "I..." Kiyora hesitated. "No. No, I can''t. I''ve barely got any power left."


    They picked their way through crowds of unconscious people. Then, suddenly, there was a long howl. Up from the bodies of the people emerged shadows. They danced along the walls as glowing red eyes peered in on them. Then they lunged at them, coming off the walls with gaping jaws.


    Then they recoiled at the sound of music. William played his harp and kept walking. Kiyora could see a sort of shield appear around them, one of pure white light. The monsters reeled against it, tearing and snarling as they burned away. Yet, for every one that fell, more and more of them poured in.


    This was far from the worst thing she''d seen today. Kiyora wasn''t feeling up to getting scared. "Wow, that harp of yours comes in real handy. What are these things?"


    "Undead, I think," said William. "Rusara taught me of specters who some monsters can summon up. They ultimately belong to the Withering."


    "What the heck is the Withering?" asked Kiyora.


    "An impersonal manifestation of entropy," said William. "I think."


    Well, that made sense. Not. "...Meaning?" asked Kiyora.


    "You could call it the god of undeath," said William. "But it isn''t a god; it is more like an evil force that possesses various champions. Those champions wield their power for their ends and determine its policies. Then it consumes them."


    "So what are they doing here?" asked Kiyora.


    "Laughing Wraith might be one of the Withering''s manifestations," said William. "It would explain a great deal. Or perhaps Wraith made a deal with the Withering for further power. I suspect he is getting desperate at this point."


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    "Not really," muttered Kiyora. "We shouldn''t be talking like this. We''ve got to move faster."


    William gave her a look of irritation. "Do you know how hard it is to do this while walking? Playing the harp takes concentration and skill. If I run, I''ll make a mistake. Can''t you use your magic like before?"


    "No, I''m saving all I''ve got for Wraith," said Kiyora. "Damn it; he sent us these things to slow us down!"


    "Quite possibly," mused William.


    And then, down from the rooftops bounded a golden blur. It roared with the voice of a goat, a lion, and a dragon. The wraiths scattered and retreated before it. Massacre had come, and she was glowing with a green light.


    "Bah," said Massacre, turning her back to them and lying down.


    "Massacre?" asked William. "How did you get here?"


    "I don''t know, but she wants us to ride her," said Kiyora.


    William hesitated as the wraiths began to return in ever greater force. A great wave of shadow was approaching them from behind. The street was shrouded in darkness. Quickly, William put away his harp and leaped onto Massacre''s back. Kiyora did the same, and Massacre was off like a lightning bolt.


    She scaled up the wall of a building and was soon leaping across one rooftop after another. The air was flowing through Kiyora''s hair, and despite the darkness, she found it excellent. This was so cool. "Wow, Massacre can run fast, can''t she?"


    William didn''t answer.


    "William?" asked Kiyora.


    William was clinging to Massacre''s back. The boy was shaking visibly as the chimera leaped from rooftop to rooftop. "I''m trying not to fall to my death."


    "Wimp," said Kiyora. "I hope Brinsiege and the others are alright. Do you think they were there when Wraith got there?"


    "I don''t know," admitted William. "I can''t tell what time of day it is. But I doubt anyone is alright here."


    Massacre soon passed into the temple district. She scaled over the domed roofs and leaped from steeple to steeple. Finally, they saw the Temple of the Dreaming Goddess coming up. Massacre leaped down into the courtyard. William dismounted, drawing his sword as Kiyora followed.


    Together, they rushed up the steps. It was funny. Although Kiyora knew she should feel worried or afraid, she wasn''t. The hundreds of people in the streets unconscious didn''t worry her. She felt like it was all just a passing thing. Within her temple, she saw her statue, true to form, pointing a sword at Typhos'' statue. The blade was shining with the colors of the rainbow.


    Laughing Wraith was standing in the shadow of Typhos'' statue. Yet his image was hazy and indistinct. He seemed to be struggling to stay where he was. He almost huddled up against the figure, which looked more alive than he did. Kiyora realized that she was not afraid of him anymore.


    But Wraith looked afraid. His form was shaking somehow. He''d lost twice to them now, and he was banking everything on Typhos. Yet Typhos remained silent.


    "So you have come," said Typhos. Her voice was a hollow thing that couldn''t really be described. It combined the hiss of a snake, the roar of a lion, and many other voices. "As I thought. Will we now engage one another in battle, Lord of Knights?"


    William''s eyes flashed with light. And then Kiyora realized she wasn''t looking at William at all. He seemed suddenly clothed in a pale light, and his hair and skin appeared white as snow. "I should avoid such unpleasant battles, Lady Typhos."


    "You... Elranor!" said Kiyora. "What are you doing! Where is William?"


    "Here," said Elranor. "I am merely speaking through him. Lady Typhos, I wish to cease hostilities between our faiths and reinstate you as a household god."


    Typhos loomed higher. "Speak, Elranor. What reason could I have to forgive you?"


    "I''m not asking you to," said Elranor. "When I took Zeya''s side against you, it was strictly impersonal. Her enemies were my enemies. Since that time, we have drifted apart. I see no good reason to subject my people to a bloody war without at least trying to prevent it."


    "And what terms do you offer?" asked Typhos.


    "My agents have already begun to restore your temple," said Elranor. "As you can see."


    "And placed another god in it," noted Typhos, turning her eyes to Kiyora.


    "That is to your advantage," said Elranor. "By having a god with an established market, you will attract more attention. This will allow you to grow your church. I am sure you could establish yourself as an influential figure in Seathorius. There has been something of a power vacuum there recently."


    "And what do you desire in return?" asked Typhos. "There is always an exchange in such arrangements."


    "Standing in your shadow is a monster, Typhos," said Elranor. "He has done great harm to many innocents. You must know his kind, surely."


    "It is true." mused Typhos. "However, he has been instrumental in my full restoration. Without him, I would have had to work for many more years to gain the power I do not."


    "I assure you," said Elranor, "Wraith loves nothing but the suffering he inflicts on others. It was not done out of any goodwill on his part. He merely desired to use you as an ally to cause further destruction and agony. He hoped you would have no choice but to turn to him and Baltoth for support against the God Triumvirate.


    "It did not enter his mind that we should seek a peaceful solution."


    "Would you have me slay him, then?" asked Typhos.


    "No," said Elranor. "Merely pass him into my hands for judgment. Aside from that, I only ask you not to pursue the old vendetta."


    Laughing Wraith looked terrified. His form was looking here and there as the light of Elranor pressed in steadily closer. Typhos looked down in contempt at Wraith, Kiyora, Elranor, and finally back to Wraith. "Very well, I accept your offer, Elranor."


    Elranor smiled. "Excellent."


    He raised a hand. There was a burst of white light, and Wraith screamed as it consumed him. His form became nothing more than a shadow in the morning. It stretched and twisted until nothing less of it destroyed it utterly. Finally, he was gone. Laughing Wraith was dead. Kiyora knew it.


    "Wait..." said Kiyora, "you just killed him? I thought gods weren''t allowed to do that!"


    "He had launched an attack on a city filled with the Temples of many gods," said Elranor. "He more or less declared war on all of us. The western gods despised him, and he was useless to Baltoth. We agreed to destroy him before I even came here."


    "But how?" asked Kiyora. "Do you have any idea how much trouble he gave us?!"


    "Kiyora, you are young, so I will forgive you for your ignorance," Elranor laughed. "I was old when the stars in the sky had not yet been formed. My power exists across innumerable worlds where I am worshipped under countless guises. Compared to the unbridled majesty of my hosts, the most terrible nightmare is but a passing fancy.


    "Besides, you wouldn''t have had much trouble destroying him. His plans were largely foiled. His power was spent on his atrocities, and he relied wholly on Typhos'' power to give him the edge over you. Terror is a passing thing and rarely lends itself to long-term gains. He would have fallen quickly."


    "But what about all the energy he got from inflicting all that suffering?" asked Kiyora.


    "Much of it was used to free Typhos," said Elranor. "You destroyed a great deal of the rest."


    "But this is so anticlimactic!" said Kiyora.


    "You seem to have mistaken Laughing Wraith for the true threat," said Elranor. "He wasn''t. This was but a distraction to draw our attention away from the river. And it worked. None of the soldiers in Arsheen will be in any shape to march to war." The light faded, and there were no more gods in the world.


    "William, you and Kiyora have only begun your journey." Elranor''s voice echoed. "Climb atop Massacre; he will lead you where you need to be.''


    "Just tell me where to go, and I''ll head there." said Kiyora, "I can teleport, you know."


    "Unfortunately, that is not possible," said Elranor. "Look to the sky."


    Kiyora and William turned around and saw the sky. Where once it had been a void now, the clouds were a fiery red. And they had formed into the shape of a tremendous clawed hand. There was a presence in those clouds. Kiyora felt that it was stronger than anything she had ever felt. She also felt like it was only the tip of the iceberg.


    "The claw of Baltoth is stretching out over Artarq. Even as we speak, his will is manifesting upon the land," said Elranor. "You will not be able to go anywhere directly. I will do what I can to speed up your progress, however.


    Go quickly. While there is still time."


    William shook his head. "That was strange. Very strange."


    Massacre had been waiting by the door and came forward to kneel. They climbed aboard her, and she turned to rush back through the city. Wherever they went, people were waking from the darkness, faces filled with horror. It was the look of people who had been having a terrible nightmare and had woken up in an unfamiliar place.


    Which, Kiyora supposed, was what had happened.

 Chapter 86 - Fourteen: The Hand of Baltoth

    They passed to the top of the walls, seeing soldiers staring vacantly into space. Massacre leaped from the walls and landed on the ground before rushing onwards. The farmlands seemed to pass by them like they were a freezing wind. They saw red light gleaming down from the sun ever stronger wherever they went.


    Baltoth was watching them. William could sense his presence and felt an absolute hatred for his enemy. It was like Elranor, but far more sinister. Elranor always seemed to be holding back out of courtesy not to scare people. The thing he felt in the air was powerful; it knew it and wanted other people to understand it.


    At the very least, it distracted me from how terrifying riding Massacre was. William feared falling off every moment and having his skull dashed on the ground. The wind on his way, the constant motion, made him feel sick.


    "I don''t get this," said Kiyora.


    "What do you mean?" asked William, glad for the distraction.


    "Well, I mean, first, I thought Laughing Wraith was the main threat," said Kiyora. "Then there is this Withering thing and Typhos, and now Baltoth. Who exactly is our primary enemy here?"


    "Baltoth for now," said William. "You can''t think this is a story with one key villain, can you? This is a war of shifting agendas. Laughing Wraith was given power by the Withering, which is probably how he kept coming back. He allied with Korasus to try to unleash Typhos, hoping to steal her power. Or perhaps he was intent on allying with her.


    "Korasus was counting on Wraith being able to cause chaos. Yet he hoped he would be defeated either by his Calishan masters or us. He and his men sacrificed their lives for the cause of unleashing Typhos to that end.


    "It is strange. It was almost heroic what Korasus did."


    "What do you mean?" asked Kiyora. "He was a drug-dealing scumbag."


    "He was loyal to his god and his goal to the end," said William. "I can admire him for that, even if I despise him as my enemy. Without him, we would have had twice as many soldiers as we do now and far better communications."


    Massacre was following a different path than they had taken. Far from it, she was rushing off the road to the northeast. The river of Savior''s Run was drawing nearer. As they rode onwards, William saw the border forts still under construction. They still needed to be finished.


    "What are those?" she asked.


    "Border forts," said William. "Father has been building them for some years. Once they have been finished, the Calishans will have a difficult time taking Artarq. And that is only if they get over the river."


    "Why are we here, anyway?" asked Kiyora.


    "I have my suspicions," said William.


    He was almost sure that Baltoth meant to launch an invasion. Elranor wanted him to learn of this directly. But why had he not merely told William if that were the case? He wasn''t sure, but he was sure Elranor knew what he was doing.


    Soon enough, they came into a hilly region. Massacre began to slow and stopped in front of two high hills. They got off, and William scratched her lion head behind the ears.


    "What is it, girl?" Kiyora asked.


    "She doesn''t want to go beyond this hill," said William. "Come on, let''s have a look."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Right, Massacre, we''ll stay low," said Kiyora.


    They scaled quickly up the hill. It was very steep, and the ground had become rocky and harsh, and in the red light, it all looked very formidable. Several times, Kiyora and William slipped on the way up the hill, and William skinned his knee. He took a moment to heal it before they approached the hill''s edge and looked upon the river.


    There was a bridge being built across the river. It was already more than halfway across, and an army was on the other side. Thousands and thousands of men were grouped around many campfires. They rested in the shadow of a village on a stone-covered hill. Most were armed with spears and large shields and wore light armor. A banner flew high above the tallest house in the town.


    It was bright white, and on it was a black hand gripping the image of a sun in its talons. In the red light, it was very formidable.


    There was another banner below it. It was a blue banner with the symbol of a white eagle. Its wings were outstretched, and a sword was gripped in its beak.


    "As I suspected," said William, "the Calishans mean to cross here."


    "What do the banners mean?" asked Kiyora. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The white banner is the symbol of Baltoth," said William. "It means the authority of the Emperor himself operates them. The other is the symbol of King Banir."


    "Who is he?" asked Kiyora.


    "King Banir was once the King of Artarq. However, his nobles rebelled against him," said William. "They invited Antion to defend them from Calisha."


    "But I thought Baltoth was the King of Artarq," said Kiyora.


    "No, see, Baltoth is an Emperor and a God," said William. "To call him a King would be to demote him. A King of Calisha is more akin to a governor."


    "And now he''s trying to get his Kingdom back," mused Kiyora.


    "He tried once before," said William. "Calisha sent a fleet of ships to land at Desora. But Father caught them off-guard and drove them back into the sea. It was what made him famous."


    "So what do we do?" asked Kiyora.


    "Father needs to know about this," said William, sliding out of sight. "Kiyora, could you... um..."


    "What?" asked Kiyora.


    "Could you stir up the river spirits?" asked William. "If you could get them to slow down the construction of that bridge even a little, it could win this war for us."


    "Sure," said Kiyora. "But I don''t have the same hold over them; I do trees. So no promises."


    "Just stay out of sight," said William. "We don''t want the Calishans to know that we know they''re here."


    "Fine, I''ll hold a conversation with the river from all this way back," said Kiyora. Then she closed her eyes and began to speak. "Hey Patomi, it''s been a while. This is the Dreaming Goddess speaking. Could you slow down the construction of that bridge?


    "Hey, no need to get snippy, Patomi; do you know what kind of day I''ve had? I promise whatever you''ve been up to has paled in comparison.


    "Oh, wow, someone is building a bridge over your river. Try having your world invaded by a creature from your darkest nightmares! Alchara above, just stand up for yourself. You can''t let other people push you around like this!"


    "I''ve got to go," said William before turning to Massacre. "Come on, Massacre. Get me to Father."


    The ride to Father''s encampment was terrifying. Kiyora had had a calming effect on him, and her conversation had also helped. It was all he could do to cling to the chimera''s back. The wind on his face was horrible, and he kept imagining himself falling off and bashing his head on a rock.


    The wind flew through his hair, freezing him through his torn and ruined shirt. His sword bounced against his side. On and on it went, until finally, Massacre slowed.


    Father''s camp stood before them, and William rushed toward it. From the looks of things, they were already packing up. Tents were being unpitched as campfires were doused with water. Soldiers donned their armor and weapons.


    His approach caused a stir, and soon Rusara approached, rushing up to him. "William, what happened? What happened to your shirt? And your chainmail! That was difficult to enchant, young man!"


    "It was broken," said William. "Lady Rusara, when did you get here?"


    "I came here to inform Vanion of a crisis," said Rusara. "Then, the sun''s light shone red on us, and we realized we had another crisis. Baltoth is making his move."


    "I know," said William. "Take me to Father. I must speak with him at once."


    Rusara nodded and led him to where Father''s pavilion was being unpitched. Father was speaking with Reynald at the far end of the tent. His gloved hands clasped together as though in prayer, and his face was grim. He looked up and breathed out in relief. "William, where have you been? What happened?"


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    William explained as quickly as he could. Father listened without expression. "So, Korasus'' plan was a diversion. I suspected as much, so I reserved most of the army. No matter. Find my son new clothes and prepare to move out!


    "Lead on, son."


    William quickly got into new garments, a bright white tunic and an equally white cloak. He''d only just finished when he noticed Tanith watching him. How long had she been here? "Tanith, how long have you been there?"


    "Long enough," said Tanith before tossing him a canteen. "Word came in that you''d vanished in a flash of light and then returned on chimera. So what happened to your shirt?"


    "I got hit with some kind of strange weapon," said William. "See, the Dreaming Goddess drew me into her world and... never mind; there is no time. Come on."


    He walked up to Rusara, curious. "Rusara, what exactly were you telling my Father about?"


    "Laughing Wraith appeared in Arsheen. It was while visiting one of the outlying villages," said Rusara. "With the area sealed off, I went to Vanion. I see my presence was unnecessary."


    "Well, your fire will be of great help, I''m sure," said William.


    "One can only hope," mused Rusara. "It has been a long time since last I wielded magic in battle. A real battle, mind you, not a skirmish."


    "What about when satyrs attacked our ship?" asked William.


    "Had I used my full strength there, the ship we were on would have been reduced to charred sticks," said Rusara.


    "I just hope this isn''t too bloody," said William.


    Then, a hand was put on his shoulder. He looked up to see Raynald smiling down at him. "Oh, cheer up. This is great news, William. It could not be better!"


    "We''re being invaded," noted William.


    "Yes, and I''ve been waiting for this day for years," said Raynald. "Raiding commence lanes is all good, but wait until we get to a real battle."


    "He''s right, you know," said Tanith. "The scream of our enemies, the shedding of blood! You''ll do great!"


    "Well, I hope so," mused William. "I didn''t do particularly well last time."


    "I admit abandoning the battle to save a Calishan servant was not your high point," mused Raynald. "But what came after more than made up for it. This will be a glorious victory."


    "Or a crippling defeat, Raynald," said Rusara. "If we lose, the Calishans will have a straight shot to Arsheen. The people there are in no state to repel an invasion."


    ''Yes, yes, there are risks," said Tanith. "But the point is that we''ll be killing Calishans soon! The enemies of our faith! To kill them is the surest path to the Halls of Elranor!"


    "Tanith, that isn''t written anywhere in his scriptures," said William.


    "It is implicit," argued Tanith. "Elranor indicates we''re supposed to stand against injustice. The Calishan are serving an evil god and, therefore, are injustice incarnate.


    "So killing them is standing against injustice and, therefore, the path to heaven."


    "Not by my reading," said William before glancing up to where Felix was approaching. "Where have you been, anyway?"


    "Running errands for the Duke, or I would have greeted you," said Felix. "I just got back."


    The army was soon arrayed, and William led them alongside Massacre. Father, it took much longer to get back than it had to. Whatever power Elranor had used before did not speed the army. The forces of Harlenor marched across the land at what seemed a maddeningly slow pace.


    The will of Baltoth was against them. With every step they made, William felt the next one getting harder. Why were they pressing on? This was hopeless. The red sunlight shone down upon them ever hotter, and mutters of unease were among the men. They knew how futile it was.


    "William," said Felix, "may I ask what we are doing here?"


    William looked at him. "What do you mean?"


    "We have only a fraction of our maximum forces," said Felix. "Yet your father is having us go to confront an entire army of Calishans."


    "Father knows what he is doing," said William. "He has beaten King Banir before."


    "Banir may not make the same mistake twice," mused Felix.


    "I don''t think we will fight them directly," said William. "Just delay them while reinforcements can be mustered. Father sent runners to Arsheen, after all." Then he halted. "Oh no, Mother."


    "What of her?" asked Felix.


    "She is pregnant," said William. "Could Wraith''s powers have hurt her?"


    "I don''t know," said Felix. "It is possible."


    A sense of despair began to spread with these words. Could they hope to confront this Calishan army? Could they halt it long enough for reinforcements to arrive? William began to doubt it. The men were starting to break formation. Raynald shouted orders, and they reluctantly returned to their places. Yet they were slowing.


    It seemed as though the army might fall apart at any moment. Then, there was a clash of sorts just beneath the surface. It was a straining of wills, and the despair was washed away. Elranor was at work.


    The sun was sinking into the horizon when they reached the hills. William saw Kiyora sitting on the hill. He looked to Father. "Here we are. The Calishans are crossing just beyond those hills. Or they were."


    "We''ll go up and have a look," said Father. "Speak with the Dreaming Goddess."


    Kiyora made her way down the hill to meet him. "Hey, Will."


    "My name is William," said William automatically. "Were you able to stop the bridge from being built?"


    "Nope," said Kiyora.


    "You might at least look concerned," said William in irritation.


    He made his way up and lay next to his Father. Looking over the hill, he saw the bridge complete. Even as they watched, the Calishans had begun to move across. Yet their progress could have been faster.


    "Sloppy," said Father. "They should have been ready to move when the bridge was finished. An army is never more vulnerable than when crossing a river."


    "Vanion, give the order, and I''ll block them at the chokepoint," said Raynald.


    "No," said Father. "We may not have to. If memory serves, there is a village a little upriver from here. They have many boats there." He looked to Rusara. "If Massacre allows you to ride her, you might take a boat, row upriver, and destroy that bridge where it stands."


    "We''ll only be able to do it once," mused Raynald.


    "Not necessarily," said Father. "Felix, by you''re the best at estimation, how many would you say that is?"


    "By my guess, I should say ten thousand, perhaps twelve," said Felix.


    "We only have four thousand here," said Rusara.


    "We can''t defeat the entire army then," said Father. "Yet we might defeat part of it. Rusara, take Massacre and do your plan. But I want you to wait until I give the signal of a flaming arrow. Then you destroy it."


    "What will I be waiting for?" asked Rusara.


    "I want a third of the enemy army over on this side," said Father. "Raynald, prepare the men. When the bridge goes up, we''ll attack the army on this side of the river."


    "Good," said Raynald. "We''ll spill blood today."


    "Come, William, I''ll need you to convince Massacre to help me," said Rusara.


    They found Massacre sleeping again. The chimera looked up in irritation, tail swishing as they approached. She gave William a look, which told him she knew what he would ask and wasn''t happy about it.


    "Massacre, I must ask you a favor," said William. "Could you carry us to a nearby village? She''ll guide you."


    "Bah," said Massacre in irritation.


    "I''ll play music extra long for you tonight," promised William.


    "Bah," said Massacre doubtfully, but she got ready.


    "You intend to come too?" asked Rusara as she mounted.


    "I won''t be much use in a melee without any armor," said William, mounting behind her. "But, I could be an extra set of oars."


    "Fair enough," said Rusara. "Onwards, Massacre, I shall direct you." And they were off.

 Chapter 87 - Fifteen: The Broken Bridge

    The village turned out to be small, built on a hill. There were houses made of stone with grass roofs and little signs of luxury. There were also boats moored at piers built on the river. William looked across it and saw distantly the Calishan villages. There in the distance, he saw the city of Cowcal, which had been founded long ago. It had been after Ruscow''s victory over Valranor, and it had been named for the herdsman who dwelled here. A formidable, walled outpost, the banners of the Calishans were arrayed beyond it. You could see them distantly, preparing to march out. Many were already along the roads. Cowcal had long been the base of operations from which sieges of Artarq were carried out.


    Several times in history, it was destroyed and rebuilt later. This one was, William thought, the third city of Cowcal. It was named as it had been with new colonists to replace those killed. Once, King Andoa II of Antion crossed the river and laid siege to it for almost a year. It had not fallen. Yet he had been called away by Viokin raids and could never renew the attack. So it was that Calisha and Harlenor stood at a perpetual stalemate.


    As usual.


    It was a bitter irony that William was here to maintain that stalemate. William wished that he could face the enemy on their ground. And for a moment, he felt he understood Tanith. To strike down the Calishans, to move beyond the river, and conquer Ruscow. Such a thing would be a glorious venture if made properly.


    But his place was here, for now, running down a pier with Rusara.


    In them, he saw a dark-skinned man mending his nets. He looked up, cowering as Massacre came to a halt before him. There was a large fishing boat, large enough to transport some goods there as well. Many local people did business moving goods across Savior''s Run. Some of them, the smugglers, could be seen hanging from a post by the entrance to the village.


    At the sight of such armed figures, they moved to leap into the river to escape. Yet Rusara raised a hand, and the shadows lengthened to wrap around him. She dismounted Massacre and approached. William didn''t blame him for this. They were terrifying, and their haste was likely seen for murderous intent. He looked afraid, and William raised his hands in a gesture of peace.


    "You, who are you?" he gasped.


    "I am the sorceress, Rusara," said Rusara. "And I have need of your boat at once. Move quickly. The fate of Artarq rests on your speed."


    "How am I to know you are the real Rusara?" asked the man.


    Rusara raised her fingers and put them into a position to snap. The man shuddered. "Yes, milady. Climb aboard. Erm, will you be taking the thing?"


    "She''s a chimera," said William. "Massacre, could you stay behind? I don''t think you''ll fit."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "No, I won''t forget the music," said William.


    They got onto the boat, and the fisherman began untying the rope. Soon they were loose, and he looked to Rusara for direction. He was terrified of her, Dust Elves had a reputation, and Rusara was their leader.


    "Take us downriver," said Rusara.


    "But milady, we''ve seen Calishans on the far bank." said the man.


    "Yes, and now they are crossing," said Rusara. "We''ll need to stop them."


    "But how can even a sorceress stop such a host?" asked the man as he complied.


    "With surprising ease," said Rusara. "Night is falling. That is good. Stay quiet and keep your sword sheathed."


    Soon enough, they came within sight of the bridge. In the darkness, they could see the forces of Calisha making the crossing. They marched in great columns over the long bridge, forming ranks on the far bank. As of this moment, a third of the army was across. The rest was clustered against the side of the bridge. They numbered in thousands already, with more coming.


    "So that is the bridge," mused the man. "Looks like they have finally completed it."


    "Lower the sail, and we''ll row right up next to the bridge," said Rusara. "I''ll need to be up close for this."


    "Won''t they have watchers?" asked William.


    "They don''t have any, I can see," mused Rusara. "But I have already conjured the shadows to protect us from them. In any case, Banir hasn''t sent any advance scouts ahead of the bridge, either. His deployment has been very clumsy."


    Soon enough, they were right up alongside the bridge. William dared not make a sound as he saw spear-wielding soldiers marching above them. Rusara reached into the folds of her cloak and drew out some paint. She began to apply it with her fingers into the shape of runes.


    "How long until we move?" asked William.


    "Patience, William," said Rusara. "Keep watch for the flaming arrow while I paint the runes."


    "Why do you need runes?" asked the man.


    "Oh, runes are a channeling force," said William. "You put part of one''s magic into them. Then they channel your power into something else with various effects. Blood runes, for instance, sap life force and send it to someone else. Meanwhile, flame runes take magic and channel it into an explosion."


    "What is your name?" asked Rusara.


    "Sarif, Lady Rusara." said the man. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, you may have a story to tell your children when this is over," said Rusara. "Move the boat a little ways down. Quickly, we need to be swift."


    By now, nearly half the army was across or on the bridge. As Rusara began painting yet another rune on the bridge, William looked up at the sky. Suddenly he saw a spark of light surging high in the sky. There was a murmur of surprise from the Calishans.


    "Rusara, look," said William. "The arrow."


    "For Harlenor Reunited!!" came Raynald''s cry.


    "FOR HARLENOR REUNITED!!" came the reply.


    William peered into the darkness as the Calishans formed. He heard the twang of bowstrings. One couldn''t see the arrows at night, but one could see their effect. Hundreds of Calishans were caught off-guard, dying from the barrage in moments. Another volley fell, and still more were killed. Orders were shouted, and the Calishans formed their shields together. The arrows did not find their mark the next time.


    As the arrows slackened, the army of House Gabriel crashed into the Calishans. William thought he saw Raynald at the head, hacking and slashing like a berserker with his one good arm. With every stroke, a Calishan died, and their shield wall broke beneath his onslaught. Soon it was a melee, and Raynald was lost from sight.


    Looking up, William saw the Calishans hurrying faster across the bridge. Some stumbled in the darkness and fell into the river, splashing into the cold water. There hey were, floundering and grasping for the bridge. They couldn''t swim. Soon arrows began to fall upon the Calishans crossing the bridge. Dust Elves, indeed, were amazing archers. No human regiment could have been so precise in their shots at them. Yet the elves were concentrating most of their fire on a very narrow bridge.


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    Of course, when an arrow landed in the boat near him, his admiration turned to worry. "We need to move, Rusara. Or we''ll get caught in the arrows."


    Rusara finished. "Move us away. We can''t afford to be too close to this bridge when it goes up."


    The boat was rowed a bit away from the ship. The assault was continuing in earnest. Calishans were being driven back against the bridge, but among them, one stood out. It was a very tall woman wielding two scimitars. Harlenorians died around her as she rallied her forces against the onslaught. Her long red hair flowed around her as she cut down all who came against her.


    The battle was turning against them, the Calishans knew it, but they asked no quarter. They were clad only in leather and padding and faced men in steel armor. Yet they continued to fight. It was magnificent in its way.


    Then again, if the battle continued like this, Raynald''s momentum would fail. Inevitably the Calishans would overwhelm them. William saw more heavily armored Calishan troops crossing over the bridge. At their head was the banner of the King. King Banir was clad in shining mail, which was remarkable since it was night.


    They were out of time. "We have to destroy the bridge."


    Rusara said nothing. "Raynald seems to be enjoying himself. The De Chevlons always did have a taste for blood."


    "Rusara!" said William.


    Rusara sighed and drew out a small tube of leather. Opening it, she revealed malas. Bringing it to her nose, she sniffed it. Her eyes went blank white as an unnerving smile came to her face as she raised a hand. "Now."


    Rusara snapped her fingers.


    The world went green and white. The force of the explosion threw William back in the boat. Support beams and bits of flaming wood fell around them in the water. Screams and cries of distress could be heard as he staggered up and saw the bridge. Or what was left of it?


    Which was nothing? Nothing but the beginning and end. The thing was just gone. In its place were many soldiers floundering to try and stay afloat in their armor. Some grabbed onto bits of wood and tried to swim for the shore.


    And on the shore, the Calishans were being driven in by Raynald. It was becoming a massacre now. This combat was hardly fair. William heard the screams of the dying, saw the blood pouring out to soak the ground, and felt sick.


    "Well, that was quite spectacular," said Rusara with a smile. "It has been long since I could create so large a fire."


    Cries for help soon came from the men clinging to life in the river. William felt a sense of pity.


    "The Calishans," said William, "they are drowning."


    "Leave them be," said Rusara. "We can''t afford to risk getting taken as hostages."


    "But we can''t just leave them," said William.


    "You are far too soft-hearted," said Rusara. "This is a war, and they are the enemy. Look over there; the Calishans are putting up some resistance against Raynald. Their leader is rallying them. I''m somewhat impressed." She seemed amused.


    William stared at her. He''d never seen this side of her before. "Rusara..."


    "Sarif, take us upriver and then to shore," said Rusara.


    "Yes, Lady Rusara," said Sarif.


    "Help me!" cried a voice. "Help us, please!"


    Something in William snapped. He drew himself up and drew out his sword. "Belay that order! We''re going to save as many as we can! Now move!"


    "William-" began Rusara.


    "I am the son of Duke Vanion! That means I outrank you!" snapped William. "Now, go and help me save that man!"


    Rusara looked at him coldly. "So be it. If they try anything, I am setting them on fire."


    Sarif turned the boat back toward the cries for help, and William saw the screaming man. He was clad in heavy armor but had grabbed ahold of driftwood. William leaned out over the side of the boat and reached out for him. "Give me your hand. Come on."


    The man struggled and finally managed to catch William''s hand. Almost at once, his heavy armor drew him downwards. William hauled on him with all his might and pulled him onto the boat. He got a look at the man. He was tan-skinned and brown-bearded with a look around him, then turned his attention to the others.


    The next was clad in leather and swimming for his life. William pulled him aboard with greater ease, then moved on to the next and the next. Very soon, the boat was nearly packed, and William realized they could carry no more.


    "Sarif," said William, "take us to shore." Everyone else in the water was going to die. He couldn''t heed their cries for help.


    Then his senses screamed at him. Glancing back, he saw the glint of a knife. He ducked aside as it passed his throat. Then there was the sound of snapping fingers, and the man started screaming as he burst into green flame. William grabbed him by the collar and hurled him overboard into the river.


    "Anyone else!" he roared, picking up his sword. "Good, now come on! We''ll find someone to take his place!"


    One more person was saved. No one else tried to take control of the boat after that. Rusara kept a careful eye on everyone there. William looked at the first man he had saved and realized his armor had started to shine again. It might have been awe-inspiring in other circumstances. With the sound of weapons and the screams of horror, it seemed out of place.


    "You... are you King Banir?" he asked.


    "Yes," said the man.


    "Tell your men that if they attempt to defy us, Rusara will burn them to ashes," said William.


    "As you wish," said Banir before speaking in Calishan. His soldiers murmured among themselves. Then Banir looked back. "They know."


    "Good," said William. What else could be said?


    Banir didn''t seem interested. He was pointing to where the Calishans were making a final stand. They were surrounded and hemmed in but defiant. "The battle is ongoing still. My daughter is fighting well."


    "Your daughter?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Banir. "Kaja desired to lead the vanguard. How is it that you are here to stand against us?"


    "With great difficulty," said William.


    "I will remember tonight," said Banir. "What is your name?"


    "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel," said William. "My father wishes to negotiate with you." He looked to Sarif. "The battle seems to be calming now. Come, let''s go ashore." As they approached the shore, William looked to Sarif. "I''ll arrange for you to be paid well for your services if you''ll wait here on the banks for a time."


    "I have pay right here," said Rusara, drawing out a pouch of silver. "Take it."


    "I am in your debt, sir," said Sarif.


    William didn''t disagree openly, though he didn''t believe Sarif meant it for a moment. They had more or less forced him at sword point into danger. He was entitled to both pay and an apology. By the time they got to shore, the battle was mostly over. The surviving Calishans were being captured and led away. A force of soldiers approached with Tanith at their head.


    She smiled broadly, and her sword and armor were soaked in blood. She motioned with her sword at them, looking almost drunk. "Hold! Stand and deliver!"


    "It''s me, Tanith," said William.


    "William," she blinked before looking at the remnants of the bridge. "You and Rusara did your work well. But you missed all the fun. Who are these?"


    "This is King Banir," said William. "And several others we rescued from the wreckage. I''ll escort the King to my Father personally. Take the rest of them with the other prisoners."


    "We have quite a few as it is," said Tanith. "More than I''d like. I haven''t taken any prisoners until now. I prefer putting a sword through throats rather than to them."


    "Don''t kill any of them," said William. "They are under my protection."


    "Alright, alright," said Tanith, "which one is the King?"


    William looked to the men. Banir''s armor was still shining and gilded. The others were clad in drab leather or had a breast place at best. He looked back at Tanith. "Truly, it is a mystery for the ages."


    Tanith laughed, then looked to her men. "Take all of them except Banir. Go, move. If anyone resists, kill them and bring me their stuff."


    No one resisted, and the rest were bound and led away. As Tanith turned to go, William put a hand to her shoulder. "One more thing," he said. "I am told that King Banir''s daughter was involved in the fighting. Is there any news of her fate?"


    "Raynald took her prisoner," said Tanith. "Well, technically, I did. I beat her in a sword fight. She was decent, I guess. Anyway, I figured she''d be a decent sport. But Raynald got all preachy.


    "Something about her being worth a ransom and the rules of war. She is in Duke Vanion''s pavilion over there." She motioned without looking. "Personally, I think it''s a wasted opportunity, but I''m not in charge."


    William was more grateful for that fact by the moment. "Good," he looked to Banir. "Come, my father awaits."


    "I will not be ransomed," said Banir.


    "Be at ease," said William. "You are here as our guest.''


    William was doing his best to reassure Banir. His best needed to be more. Father had a use for him, so he would likely leave this place alive. Perhaps even with some part of his forces. William looked at the corpses and the dying. Then he looked to the bloodstained victors. He could not help but feel like throwing up.


    He didn''t, of course. That was beneath the dignity of the son of a Duke.

 Chapter 88 - Sixteen: The Hospitality of Duke Vanion

    Kiyora had watched the battle as it played out. Even from the distance of the hilltop, it had been sick. She''d seen skirmishes between satyrs and dwarves before. But never anything on this scale. And back then, she hadn''t considered any of it real.


    Now she knew it was. Duke Vanion observed the combat with a stony disposition. He watched the slaughter and only spoke to give orders.


    The plan worked perfectly. Kiyora knew she should be glad about that. But she wasn''t.


    Now it was over; she sat back in Duke Vanion''s pavilion. The Duke was sorting through various papers. It hadn''t been over for a minute, and he''d already started planning for the victory. He''d noticed her, of course, but he hadn''t said anything yet. Kiyora didn''t know what to say, so she did not mind.


    "I appreciate your assistance," said the Duke after a moment. "Without your help, my son likely never would have escaped Seathorius alive. You have been invaluable to my cause, and I shall not forget it."


    "No problem," said Kiyora.


    Then he looked up as a soldier appeared and saluted. "Duke Vanion, your son has captured King Banir. He pulled him out of the river before he drowned."


    Vanion smiled. Kiyora had only once seen him smile when she first met him after his adventures in Seathorius. "Really? That is excellent news," said the Duke. "Provide Banir with new clothes. Then politely invite him to negotiate with me." He looked to the shadows. "Felix, I would have you act as King Banir''s voice in these negotiations. It is unbefitting for royalty, however, diminished, to not be afforded proper respect."


    When had Felix gotten here? How did he keep appearing like this? "As you wish, Duke Vanion."


    The formality didn''t suit Felix. However, he was always formal around Duke Vanion. Wait, why did Felix have to speak for Banir anyway? "Can''t he speak for himself?"


    "There is a Calishan custom," said Vanion. "When negotiating with one deemed their inferior, they whisper in the ear of a servant. The servant, in turn, repeats your message. I intend to honor it."


    "That is really stupid," said Kiyora.


    "I am not overly fond of the custom myself, but I intend to be a courteous host," said Vanion. "It is a humiliation for a Calishan King to be forced to speak to one of lower rank without a servant. Oh, and Kiyora, if anyone asks, you availed upon me to submit to Calisha."


    "Submit?" asked Kiyora. "We just won."


    "And there lies the crux of my strategy," said Vanion.


    He said nothing more on that note. Of course, Kiyora could have asked him about it. William probably would have. But Kiyora knew the Duke well enough to know he longed to be asked and wasn''t in the mood to oblige him. So she waited for him to elaborate.


    Instead, Vanion sorted through some papers. His blue eyes flickered over each in turn. And then Banir arrived, and he put aside his notes and stood with a smile.


    "Ah, King Banir. I am glad you could grace us with your presence," said Vanion. "This boy is of your people. He will act as your voice in this matter unless you object."


    Banir looked at Felix and then whispered something in his ear. Felix looked at Vanion. "King Banir accepts this gift in the spirit of which it is given."


    "Excellent," said Vanion, offering Banir a chair. "Sit down, please. We have some business to discuss." He motioned to a kettle of tea. "Would you care for some tea?"


    Banir spoke his response to Felix. "King Banir does not mix business with pleasure."


    "A wise policy," said Vanion. "It is a shame that more of my countrymen do not share it. Despite our best efforts, I fear we have fallen short of your land in many ways." He sat down across from Banir. "Let me first say that your men fought bravely in the service of their nation. None can doubt their courage or the fortitude of their leader. It is lamentable that I should be forced to cut down such courageous warriors on the battlefield."


    There was a moment as Banir spoke to Felix. "King Banir desires to know your purpose in this meeting," said Felix. "He wishes to dispense with the formalities."


    If the response annoyed Vanion, he did not show it. "As you wish. We find ourselves with a problem, for neither can gain as things stand now. If I send you and your men back in defeat, it will not aid my cause. I will only buy a brief reprieve and await the next army to seize Artarq and win glory for their Emperor. On the other hand, should you return as you are now, you will appear to have failed the Emperor.


    "Please understand I hold you in the highest respect. Indeed, you are among the greatest of the enemies I have yet faced on the battle field. Yet, in every court, there are serpents. Many rivals, jealous of your achievements, will seek to turn the Emperor''s mind against you."


    "King Banir asks that you get to the point," said Felix.


    Vanion produced a parchment and offered it to Banir. "I have here a treaty I wish you to offer to Baltoth. I believe it is mutually beneficial to both parties. It should remove the need for any more unfortunate warfare."


    Banir looked over the parchment. His eyes widened in surprise, and he momentarily stared at it in shock. Then he looked up. "...Why would you offer such concessions when you are the victor?" he spoke with his voice.


    "You misunderstand me," said Vanion with a pleasant smile. "I merely wish things to come out the best for all involved. Should you bring this to the Emperor, I expect he will be pleased to have what he sought. Calisha will no longer have to rely on thieves and cutthroats for malas. And Harlenor need not fear the loss of their territories. I will be left in peace to mind my affairs, and you will have been the one to arrange this triumph."


    "What of my daughter?" asked Banir.


    "I will gladly release her along with you," said Vanion. "Indeed, I will offer safe passage for your army to cross over the river. However, it must be on the condition that they vow never to bear weapons against Harlenor again. It is a small formality; if all goes well, it is hardly necessary.


    "And you may take your arms with you."


    Banir looked at Vanion in a new light. Not necessarily a good one, though. "...I will take this to Baltoth and await his consideration. However, if I know his mind, I believe he will be open to your most generous offer."


    "That is all that can be hoped," said Vanion. "I will compose a letter to Baltoth describing the courageous conduct of your armies. Then none may speak ill of you. Now, I have a lot of work to do.


    "I will have food for you and your men soon enough."


    Banir departed, and Vanion watched him go with that same pleasant expression. As soon as he was gone, the joy disappeared from his face, and he began to write something down on some parchment. Kiyora had to ask.


    "So, is he among the greatest enemies you''ve faced?" Kiyora said.


    "Of course not," snapped Vanion in disgust. "Never tell anyone what you think of them if they have any power, Kiyora. It tends to backfire spectacularly."


    "So what do you think of him?" asked Kiyora.


    "Banir was a fool," said Vanion. "If he''d set up sentries and sent scouts over the bridge, he would have spotted us coming and been able to react. We''d have, at best, managed a fighting retreat. He could have advanced while Baltoth fed more and more troops over the river.


    "Instead, he blundered into my trap and was utterly defeated." He breathed out. "And if Baltoth is under the impression that Banir is a competent commander, he may send him against me again."


    "And you think writing a flowery speech about what a worthy opponent Banir was will do that?" asked Kiyora.


    "It worked at Desora," said Vanion. "Even so, I don''t expect Baltoth will be so forgiving a second time. The best Banir can hope for is early retirement. In that regard, what I write could go a long way to securing it.


    "Which is why Banir will cooperate. He needs to salvage his situation, and I am his only hope of doing that."


    Kiyora looked at Vanion. "You''re a bit eccentric for a human, aren''t you?"


    Stolen novel; please report.


    "What do you mean?" asked Vanion.


    "Well, I mean, every other human I''ve met has been all about honor and glory," said Kiyora. "Raynald or Lady Azgora would have wanted to kill the whole army and send them packing."


    "I''m aware. I am eccentric," said Vanion. "I do not care for battle unless it advances my goals. Wars are expensive and dangerous affairs that risk my life and the lives of my family. If I can keep out of them and still achieve my goal so much, the better."


    "And what is your long-term goal?" asked Kiyora.


    Vanion looked up with a guarded expression. He seemed to contemplate his answer. "That is a personal question. Still, I see no reason not to answer. The truth is that I have advanced to the greatest position of power I can hope to achieve in this life. Now, I must think of the next generation and what legacy I will leave behind.


    "King Andoa has lived a long time. But he is aging. His son is my age and has accomplished little. His granddaughters are of a similar age to William."


    Kiyora saw where this was going. "So, you want to marry William into royalty?"


    "I am already among the most powerful men who do not call themselves King," said Vanion. "I have a fair number of accomplishments. If William continues as he has been going, I believe he will be a suitable match." He eyed her carefully. "You don''t approve."


    "Well, not really," admitted Kiyora. "What if William doesn''t want to marry a Princess?"


    "Then I have no intention of pressing the matter," said Vanion quickly. "I broke off an engagement years ago to marry Azgora. I am not such a hypocrite as to put William in the same position. Still, I shall do all I can to persuade him of the value of the move.


    "Now I''ll have to ask you to excuse me. I must see to those wounded in battle. A personal touch goes a long way to earning the love of one''s men."


    He put away his papers and walked to the door.


    "Right, I should probably get going as well," said Kiyora. "I didn''t exactly leave things in the best of states." She only hoped Wraith hadn''t too severely wrecked the city. How many people had gotten killed because of him?


    "As you wish," said Vanion.


    Kiyora focused on departing the dream. She found her consciousness drifting up, up, up, and then...


    Then nothing.


    Kiyora reappeared within what appeared to be an armory. There were all kinds of weapons and armor lining the walls. She looked around. "...Huh, that''s odd."


    "Kiyora, where have you been?" said a dark, rasping voice.


    Kiyora turned around and saw a hulking figure clad in white and black armor. The helmet looked like a skull, and the torso had the design of ribs upon it. The entire thing had been made to appear like a metal skeleton. Oh, and two glowing bright green eyes were coming from the helm. Over his back was a black shield, emblazoned with the symbol of a silver cobra.


    "Who the heck are you, dark lord?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, the helmet." said the figure before pulling it off. It was William beneath it.


    "Okay, William," said Kiyora, "what is with the armor?"


    "A gift from Lady Rusara," explained William, voice normal again. "What, don''t you like it?"


    "It''s inlaid with skulls," noted Kiyora. "Are you trying to look like a demon?"


    "Actually, yes," admitted William, looking at one gauntleted hand. "The idea is to terrify my enemies."


    "Okay, but is the voice changing necessary?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said William. "So why have you been gone so long?"


    "I uh... I don''t know," admitted Kiyora. "I didn''t wake up. Just slept. How long was I gone?"


    "About a week," said William. "We''ve been waiting for Baltoth''s response for some time. I was just going to see my Father. He is thinking about sending me with Raynald to the northern highlands of Khasmir."


    "Why there?" asked Kiyora.


    "Our satyr ally, Chieftain Relg, has recently approached us," said William. "He has come under threat by some of their enemies, and they want our assistance."


    "And here I was hoping the fighting was over," said Kiyora. "Speaking of which, how did that thing with Calisha work out?"


    "As I said, we''ve been waiting for Baltoth''s response," said William. "Though we haven''t faced any more attacks, that bodes well. There were a few skirmishes by Calishan''s trying to scout the area. But Tanith and Raynald intercepted those and destroyed them.


    "A message recently arrived to meet my Father. I was just going to stand with my him."


    "And the armor is for?" asked Kiyora.


    "To make us seem impressive," admitted William.


    "Right," said Kiyora. "So, where is Felix?"


    "Feeding Massacre," said William. "The other servants are terrified of her, and he''s the only one she doesn''t growl at. Now come on, I''ve got to meet up with Father."


    He led her out of the armory and through the white-tiled halls of the Palace. At last, they came to the throne room. Entering it, they walked along a red carpet. At the far end of the room were two raised thrones overlooking the whole room. Upon the leftmost one was Duke Vanion. He was dressed in a black cloak and violet doublet. He looked very kingly indeed, especially with his hands clasped together. The other throne, Kiyora guessed was for Azgora, was empty.


    Many other soldiers were around him very closely. They were also clad in their full armor but not alone. There were courtiers and others, all farther from Vanion''s seat. The Duke observed William''s approach and nodded to him, then Kiyora. Then William took his place near Tanith.


    "William, you look menacing," said Tanith. "You might even impress someone if they weren''t aware of how much you used to cry after scraping your knee."


    "Be silent," said William. "This isn''t the time." Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Oh, come on," said Tanith, "we''ve already won. I don''t even see why we all have to be here."


    "On the contrary," said William, "Baltoth may still reject us. In which case, this delay has merely been the calm before the storm."


    "Right, right," said Tanith. "If this works, do you think we''ll get a triumph in Antion?"


    "Doubtful," mused William. "Father''s political enemies will claim this deal was appeasement."


    "His political enemies aren''t the only ones," said Tanith. "Raynald has been ranting about this all week. He isn''t happy. He was hoping for a larger war, something to do with his family."


    "You don''t seem very unhappy," noted William.


    "Eh, blood and death are fun," said Tanith. "But you can have too much of a good thing. I want to take the time to enjoy some of the spoils I got from raiding."


    "I wasn''t aware you cared much for money," noted William.


    "I don''t," said Tanith, "I''ll probably invest what I stole in a merchant expedition. Felix gave me a few hints on where we ought to start, and I hear the sugar trade is a goldmine. But I was talking about that priestess I kidnapped from the temple of Baltoth. I think she is starting to appreciate me."


    "I don''t want to discuss this with you further," said William.


    Kiyora couldn''t believe what she was hearing. Tanith had openly admitted to keeping someone as a sex slave. And William didn''t show anything but mild distaste. In the same way, she didn''t like how Laurus smoked. She felt sick. She wanted to scream and yell but knew this wasn''t the time.


    So she tapped William on the shoulder. "William, can I talk to you over there?"


    "Of course," said William.


    They made their way out of the crowd toward the back of the room. Kiyora turned to William. "How are you friends with that girl?"


    "Tanith?" asked William. "Oh, we''ve known each other since we were children, and her Father is a close ally. Her lack of formality is nothing unusual."


    "I''m not talking about her lack of formality," said Kiyora. "I mean that she just admitted to keeping an innocent girl as a sex slave."


    "Innocent is rather dubious." mused William. "She was a priestess of Baltoth. They are often trained to fight and oversee crucifixions."


    "You know what I mean!" hissed Kiyora.


    "What do you want me to say, Kiyora?" asked William. "She was part of a raid. She took a captive as a slave. She decided to keep that slave for herself. I don''t see what your problem is?"


    "My problem is that slavery is wrong," said Kiyora.


    William stared at her as though she had grown a second head. "Kiyora, I have no idea what you are talking about. Slavery isn''t wrong or right. It''s just something that can happen."


    "Would you want to be enslaved?" asked Kiyora.


    "Of course not," said William. "But I don''t want to be stabbed to death either. That doesn''t mean there aren''t situations where killing someone is justified." He paused. "Look, I don''t like what Tanith is doing either; she''s changed a lot since she left Carn Gable. But she isn''t doing anything she doesn''t have a right to.


    "I''m not going to destroy years of friendship because she''s picked up a few bad habits."


    Bad habits? As if Tanith was smoking cigarettes outside the gates of the school. Kiyora was about to let William have it when suddenly the doors opened, and into the room came the herald. They quickly hurried back to their place.


    "The Envoy Emira, daughter of Suloth." said the herald.


    "Suloth?" asked Kiyora.


    "A son of Baltoth," said William. "The greatest of Baltoth''s children. How do you not know this?"


    She walked into the room, clad in flowing brown robes and wearing a concealing mask of gold. She was skinny and held an ornate silver scimitar by her side. Behind her was a muscular servant carrying a large wooden box.


    She bowed her head as she reached the throne. "Greetings to you, noble Vanion. I have walked from the Capital of Ruscow after King Banir brought your message. The Emperor Baltoth has considered your offer and has bidden me provide a gift in turn."


    "Why is she talking directly?" asked Kiyora.


    "In this situation, he is the servant, speaking for her master, Baltoth," said William.


    "Oh, right," said Kiyora.


    The box was put on the step and set down. Vanion made his way downward, and it was opened. He recoiled at what he saw, and there was a gasp. There, in the box, lay the head of King Banir. His expression was one of agony.


    "What is the meaning of this?!" said Vanion.


    "The Inexorable Baltoth salutes your heroic defiance," said Emira. "And approves of your wisdom to negotiate in the face of inevitable defeat. However, he asks that you not insult his intelligence by claiming Banir as a worthy opponent. The Emperor knows who serves him well and who squanders his resources.


    "The failure was Banir''s, and no credit falls upon him or his line for what you gave freely.


    "The Emperor Baltoth accepts your most generous offer."


    Vanion mastered himself. "Then, I shall accept this gift in the spirit of which it was given. I would ask that mercy be shown upon Banir''s daughter. She fought valiantly in service of her Emperor."


    "Rest assured, the Emperor knows who serves him," said Emira.


    "Please accept our hospitality for the night," said Vanion. "And when you return to your Emperor, tell him I apologize for my deception. In war, one must seek every advantage."


    "Of course," said Emira. "Baltoth understands the laws of war all too well."


    "Now," said Vanion, "I would ask that my closest advisors and I be left to speak alone."


    At these words, everyone filed out, speaking about what had happened. Emiran rose and departed without a word as Vanion looked at the head. Eventually, the remaining people were Raynald, Rusara, Vanion, William, and Kiyora. They and a servant, Vanion, took them by the shoulder to have him stay.


    Vanion waited until the room was almost empty. Then he let his anger show. "Barbarism!" He looked to the servant. "Sunthred, find some priests of Baltoth. See to it that King Banir be cremated with all proper funeral rights. And bring word to the satyr messengers. Tell them we will come to their aid."


    "At least we have a truce," said Rusara.


    "Yes, that is fortunate," said Vanion. "It frees up our soldiers for more important matters."


    "Father, what could be more important than the vendetta of the gods?" asked William.


    Vanion looked up in surprise at the voice, blinked twice, and recognized his son. "Ensuring our allies don''t fall," said Vanion. "Raynald. I want you and Rusara to take the forces we set aside and make for the highlands at once. Take William with you.


    "William, you will learn by their example."


    "Of course, Father," said William.


    "Right," said Kiyora, "well, I guess I''ll-" Then she found herself drawn upwards. "Oh, so now I''m waking up!" This was so typical!

 Chapter 89 - Seventeen: Khasmir

    Mother had been bedridden for the past few days. She didn''t look happy about the fact, even if she was months pregnant. William entered the room, keeping his helmet slung under one arm as he approached. She looked up at him with narrowed eyes.


    "Mother, I''m going," said William. "I thought I''d come to say goodbye."


    "Vanion has told me of your exploits during battle," said Mother. "Would that I had been there.


    "Unfortunately, it has been too long since my spear was driven home into the breast of an enemy. Even so, I am glad you played a part in the victory. You should seek to be part of the combat in this coming fight. In the field of battle, with a sword on sword, that is where true glory is.


    "Everything else is merely preparation. I fear your Father has never understood that."


    "I''m sure Raynald will place me wherever I need to be," said William. He wasn''t about to tell her he had no desire to ever be in combat again.


    "If he does not place you in the thick of the fighting, you should request it," said Mother. "There is where you will earn your place as a warrior."


    "I understand," said William.


    "I wish I were coming with you," said Azgora. "However, your brother and sister keep me here."


    "Brother and sister?" asked William.


    "Yes, the priests tell me I will bear twins," said Azgora. "I am glad to have a daughter finally. I am still proud of you, of course."


    "Thank you, Mother," said William, not at all sure of what to say. "I should go."


    As he made his way down to the courtyard, he tried to ignore the weight of his armor. He far preferred his lighter chain shirt to this, even if it didn''t afford nearly as much protection. Kiyora''s concern about the appearance of it was one he shared privately, but Rusara had chosen it. Inspiring fear was an essential part of Dust Elven warfare, or so William had been taught by Rusara.


    He pulled his black cloak closer around him as he entered the courtyard and found Tanith waiting. "Ready?" she asked.


    "Yes," said William. "Though the armor is heavy."


    "Get used to it," said Tanith. "You''ll be wearing it for a while."


    "Yes, yes," said William.


    "What''s the harp for anyway?" asked Tanith.


    "Oh, this?" said William, looking at the harp hanging under his crimson cloak. "It''s for Massacre."


    "The chimera is coming?" asked Tanith, sounding impressed.


    "Yes," said William. "The only reason she didn''t come with us in the first place was that she is a child of Typhos. Our mission ran contrary to Typhos'' interests. She''ll help our chances with this, though."


    "Right," said Tanith doubtfully. "Where are Felix and the chimera anyway?"


    "Felix is concluding some business deals," said William. "Massacre went with him."


    "Yours?" asked Tanith.


    "No, his own," said William. "Still, it isn''t like Felix to be late."


    "Well, he isn''t late yet," said Tanith.


    There was a long silence. William searched for something to say. "Tanith, what was being in battle like for you?"


    "Oh, it was fun," said Tanith.


    "Fun?" asked William. "I thought you were just blustering when you said that before."


    "I meant every word," said Tanith. "The best time I''ve ever had. I remember I hit one of them in the face with my sword. He screamed until I hit him again and caved in his skull. I remember the sensation of my blood pumping as I hacked and slashed my way through them. I wish I could have felt that way forever."


    "Are you sure that''s healthy?" asked William. "Enjoying ending another''s life?"


    "You''re worse than Raynald," muttered Tanith. "Of course, it''s healthy. War is how Haldrenians prove themselves worthy of their titles. It has been since there has been a Haldren. Killing Calishans is our duty. So how can it be wrong to enjoy doing what Elranor wants us to do?"


    "I''m not sure Elranor has a grudge against Calishans," said William. "So much as Baltoth."


    "Is that why you saved the Calishans, then?" asked Tanith, an edge in her voice.


    "My father had a use for Banir," said William. "And I thought capturing a King of Calisha would be glorious." He knew it was a lie.


    "Really? And his minions?" asked Tanith.


    "I almost drowned once, Tanith," said William. "I watched Felix almost drown. It isn''t something I''d wish on my worst enemies."


    "They''re Calishans," said Tanith.


    "Yes, and if I''m ever captured by one, I''d rather not be executed out of hand," said William. "Having a reputation for benevolence to one''s defeated enemies can help one''s chances. Not every battle is a victory."


    "I guess," said Tanith. "You sound just like Duke Vanion, you know. I remember Raynald and he argued."


    "What about?" asked William.


    "Raynald wanted to execute every prisoner who wasn''t worth anything. Then we''d ransom the rest," said Tanith. "Send a message to Calisha."


    "Well, that sounds like Raynald." said William, "I think I know what Father''s response was."


    At that moment, Felix and Massacre got back. The Calishan boy approached, throwing his violet cloak behind him. "I''m sorry I wasn''t here sooner. Some unexpected business came up."


    "Don''t worry about it," said Tanith. "So, you sat in on a negotiation between Duke Vanion and King Banir. What''d they talk about?"


    "For the most part, Duke Vanion flattered him, offered him generous terms, and got him to leave," said Felix.


    "That''s all?" asked Tanith.


    "More or less," said Felix. "It was some time ago, but Vanion held all the cards. It wasn''t exciting."


    "And here I''d hoped there had been some secret negotiations," said Tanith. "Ah well, can''t argue with total victory. And the bastard ended up dead anyway, so all ends well."


    "Don''t concern yourself with it," said William. "Let''s focus on what we can affect. Let''s get outside the gates before Raynald sends a search party."


    They began their walk. As they did, Tanith looked thoughtful. "I don''t understand why we made friends with the satyrs up north anyway."


    "Surely you must have read the history," said William.


    "I''ve dropped out of reading history. Mostly since signing up with Lord Marn," said Tanith, which was no excuse since they''d been taught it. How much had she forgotten?


    "Well, fortunately for you, I have not," said William. "Khasmir is of strategic importance. If the Calishans were to gain control of it, they could move their armies across the river. They could then head south over the northern frontier. They know it, and we know it. That''s why we must support our allies in the region."


    "I don''t see why we couldn''t just kill all the satyrs," said Tanith. "Then, once they were all dead, we could move our colonists in."


    "The Calishans would have an easy time marching through graveyards," mused William. Note to self: appeals to pragmatism had a greater effect than an appeal to one''s conscience.


    "Oh right," said Tanith. "It would be pretty hard to hold that region by ourselves. So, who are our allies again?"


    "We''re allied with the Fireeyes Clan and their vassals," said William. "They converted to worship Elranor some years ago, and their leader was educated in Antion. The Bloodhowlers are a group who worship Baltoth, originally from Seathorius. We can be grateful that they are the smallest of the Khasmir factions."


    "I don''t understand why they didn''t cross the river near their allies, then head south," said Tanith.


    "They could have," said William. "But we''d have heard about it. And all the other clans would have allied to fight off a hostile invasion. Once we came with reinforcements, they would face a far larger army than before."


    "Well, what about the worshippers of Fortenex?" asked Tanith. "The ones we fought before."


    "They are a minority of the neutral clans long at war with the worshippers of Kreshlak," said William. "I suspect they allied with Wraith in the hopes of tipping the scales in their favor."


    "Who worships Kreshlak?" asked Tanith.


    "Everyone except the worshippers of Fortenex," said William. "Viokin traders spread his worship well before we even owned Artarq. You see, this was before the Viokin Wars and-"


    "Okay, okay, whatever," said Tanith. "I remember reading about all this in Carn Gable. It''s coming back to me. The Viokins had a stint of sending missionaries out to other lands."


    "If you don''t want the answer to your questions, you shouldn''t ask them, Tanith," said William.


    "Just tell me who I need to stab when I need to stab them, okay," said Tanith. "I know history is important, but I have no talent for it. I''m better at languages. Still, I can learn more about this feud between Kreshlak and Fortenex.


    "Worth noting about in my journal."


    "As you wish," said William, feeling a twinge of irritation. She never used to have this little regard for her education.


    The army traveled north on the road for several days. William spent much of his spare time helping the priests heal people. The men who got injured or sick along the route were grateful. They didn''t run into anything serious, of course. Yet, in an army of thousands, someone was always getting injured.


    He had a limited amount of spare time. Raynald and Rusara were making all kinds of day-to-day decisions. William watched these, observed, and tried to learn as best he could. Most of them were dreary, such as the placement of latrines or the organization of the camp. But he knew such decisions were critical, so he held his tongue and listened.


    At night he would play his music for Massacre. Yet he found that his music became something of an event. Many of the women in the army came to listen, as well. He found he enjoyed the attention.


    Before long, they had passed by the castle of Lord Asimir, now under the management of Sarris. The wall had been partially repaired, and they took shelter there for the night. The land, however, had begun to change. The grass was turning to a more pleasant shade, and the area seemed far less harsh.


    "It seems that Elranor is extending his influence over this place at last," said Raynald. "Good. I was tired of Baltoth holding territory in a land that belongs to Harlenor."


    "I have always found Elranor''s domains to be far too tame," mused Rusara.


    The following day they pressed on to Khasmir.


    The ground grew steadily rougher, and the air far colder. The trees here were twisted and low to the ground, while vegetation was hard to come by. Once or twice, William saw mountain goats wandering the landscape. Several were hunted for meals by soldiers when they did not flee quickly enough.


    Kreshlak''s will soon become known, and travel injuries became more common. It also began to rain more, and the wind was always howling. William spent much time healing those who fell or became severely cold. A few fell into frozen rivers, and he could not save them all. It had taken constant effort to keep them alive until Rusara''s fire could warm them.


    "Now, do you see why we brought all that heavy clothing?" asked William.


    "Yes, yes," Tanith said, pulling her cloak closer, "this is even worse than Baltoth''s domain. How can anyone stand it?"


    "Baltoth and Kreshlak both share the philosophy that hardship creates strength," said Felix. "The difference is Baltoth appreciates the benefits of an advanced civilization. Kreshlak would prefer it if everyone lived in yurts and hit each other with axes all day."


    "I would keep such opinions to yourself," William warned him. "Those who dwell here may be of a different mind." He looked at Felix. "I''m surprised, though; I didn''t know you held him in such contempt."


    "Kreshlak is in many ways the antithesis of my beliefs," said Felix. "Professing a meaningless warrior code and condemning the use of cunning and cooperation. As if brute force was the source of power."


    "And what is the source of power?" asked William, curious as to his answer.


    "Your ability to achieve your objectives," said Felix. "If you accomplish what you set out to do, then you are powerful. If you fail, you are not. Power is one''s ability to enforce one''s will upon a universe that defies you. Everything else is merely window dressing.


    "Look at Duke Vanion. He is physically inferior to both Raynald and Lady Azgora. He needs to gain more skill in magic to compare to Rusara. And yet he is the most powerful person in this land."


    "I never heard you speak this way," mused William. "Is this a personal philosophy?"


    "No," said Felix. "It has a basis in my holy texts."


    "Your holy texts?" asked Tanith in amusement. "What are you, a god?"


    "I mean to say the holy texts that the Duke had stored in Carn Gable''s library," said Felix quickly. "You see, he purchased several texts written by Baltoth and put them away. However, aside from the Duke, I was the only person who ever read them, so I felt like they were mine."


    "Yes, I remember those," said William. "I always meant to read them but never got around to it. I''m surprised you liked them so much. Considering-" William stopped as he realized he had nearly opened up old wounds.


    Felix did not show any distress other than looking a bit melancholy. "What Baltoth did to my family was not personal. It was merely the law, and he was enforcing it. Ruthless punishment of those who steal from the crown keeps others from doing the same."


    "You know, I''ve been saying that for years," said Tanith. She had not.


    Soon, they began to pass villages of satyrs, always on hilltops and surrounded by walls. The people came out to watch them warily, holding weapons. Their warriors kept their guard up, and someone blew a horn. Another followed the horn. Then, it was answered by another two calls somewhere in the difference.


    "A warning sign," mused Tanith.


    "Yes," said Raynald, who had been walking along the lines. "The Fireeyes clan has a very organized series of warning systems. Each village chief has four horns: one for the north, one for the south, one for the east, and one for the west. They blow one or two of them to signify the direction of the enemy army. Then the other villages blow their horns when they hear it."


    "Wouldn''t it be much simpler to light a signal fire?" asked Felix.


    "It would," admitted Raynald. "Relg always was fond of making things too complicated for his good."


    They passed several other villages and heard several more horn calls. Raynald listened to them and frowned. After a moment, he looked at them.


    "North," said Raynald. "There is an army approaching from the north."


    "Are you sure?" asked William. "I mean, suppose a village south of here saw an army approaching them from the north? Then the army would be to the south."


    Stolen novel; please report.


    "Wouldn''t some other villages have warned them beforehand?" asked Tanith. "You know, before the army got south of us."


    "This system is complicated to the point of being useless," mused Felix.


    "Oh, I forgot to mention something," said Raynald. "The horn calls don''t say whether they are north, south, east, or west of the village. They say they are north, south, east, or west of Kynn."


    "What is Kynn?" asked Tanith.


    "The most formidable fortress in Khasmir," said Raynald. "Armies have broken on it like the sea against cliffs. It''s probably the only worthwhile thing the satyrs ever made."


    "It is the capital of our allies in Khasmir," said William.


    Some hours later, they came within sight of their destination. It sat at the top of a cliff, with the southern side a sheer cliff and only one possible area of the approach. William felt climbing would be difficult, even for him and Felix.


    The fortress looked like it had been assembled without any plan or idea of its shape. The towers were all at different heights, though they were tall. The stonework was of several styles, chipped and cracked in many places. Satyrs patrolled it with bows.


    "So that''s the fortress," said William. "Not nearly so impressive as I thought it would be."


    "That''s Kynn?" asked Tanith. "It doesn''t look very well defended."


    "That is because the army is over there," said Felix.


    The cliff had hidden the army, but now they could see it. It was quite large, though still inferior in numbers to their own. The satyrs within it were clad in leather and wielded axes and shields. No scimitars could be seen like their cousins in Seathorius used. They also looked a bit shorter and bulkier.


    Raynald, at this moment, approached. "William, I''m going to meet with Relg. You will accompany me. Rusara will be in command in my absence."


    "You don''t think they''ll betray us?" asked William.


    "I have no good reason to think they will," said Raynald. "But who knows what these satyr animals will get up to on a whim? I''m not taking any chances. Besides, we might come under attack while meeting with them."


    The satyrs had a similar idea. Their leaders came forward with a white flag at around the same time. The two groups marched to meet each other, and William saw the satyr leader, Relg, he guessed. He was taller than his brethren and thinner, too. His eyes were dark, and his fur was black as night. He wore a long brown cloak around metal armor. He bowed his head as Raynald approached. "Lord Raynald De Chevlon. News of your victories in battle has reached across the world. I am glad that a great warrior has come to our aid."


    "I thank you, Chieftain Relg Fireeyes," said Raynald, none of his disdain in his voice. "We men of Harlenor always honor our debts and remember our friends long after we have been forgotten. What troubles you?"


    "Many of the neutral clans have been united in common cause against us," said Relg. "We feared they would attack us, and our fears have borne fruit. Even as we speak, they march toward us. We will need your steel on this day to gain victory."


    "You have it," said Raynald. "My men and their arms are as one with yours."


    "Then together we shall slaughter our enemies!" said Relg. "Let us bring our officers together and make our plans upon this ground."


    "It shall be so," said Raynald.


    After they had separated, William looked to Raynald. "Why wouldn''t Relg have his army within Kynn, Raynald? It seems a waste to leave the fortress unoccupied when he is there."


    "Kynn is his great advantage," said Raynald. "And satyrs know nothing of loyalty. Most of that army comes from Relg''s vassals. If he let them in, they might never leave. So he would much rather confront his enemies far afield and fall back to Kynn if he suffers a defeat."


    "I see," said William. "He is very well-spoken, isn''t he?"


    "Relg was educated in Antion. He speaks Harlenorian with perfect clarity," said Raynald. "It doesn''t make him any less of a satyr."


    Duly noted. Kiyora had watched the battle as it played out. Even from the distance of the hilltop, it had been sick. She''d seen skirmishes between satyrs and dwarves before. But never anything on this scale. And back then, she hadn''t considered any of it real.


    Now she knew it was. Duke Vanion observed the combat with a stony disposition. He watched the slaughter and only spoke to give orders.


    The plan worked perfectly. Kiyora knew she should be glad about that. But she wasn''t.


    Now it was over; she sat back in Duke Vanion''s pavilion. The Duke was sorting through various papers. It hadn''t been over for a minute, and he''d already started planning for the victory. He''d noticed her, of course, but he hadn''t said anything yet. Kiyora didn''t know what to say, so she did not mind.


    "I appreciate your assistance," said the Duke after a moment. "Without your help, my son likely never would have escaped Seathorius alive. You have been invaluable to my cause, and I shall not forget it."


    "No problem," said Kiyora.


    Then he looked up as a soldier appeared and saluted. "Duke Vanion, your son has captured King Banir. He pulled him out of the river before he drowned."


    Vanion smiled. Kiyora had only once seen him smile when she first met him after his adventures in Seathorius. "Really? That is excellent news," said the Duke. "Provide Banir with new clothes. Then politely invite him to negotiate with me." He looked to the shadows. "Felix, I would have you act as King Banir''s voice in these negotiations. It is unbefitting for royalty, however, diminished, to not be afforded proper respect."


    When had Felix gotten here? How did he keep appearing like this? "As you wish, Duke Vanion."


    The formality didn''t suit Felix. However, he was always formal around Duke Vanion. Wait, why did Felix have to speak for Banir anyway? "Can''t he speak for himself?"


    "There is a Calishan custom," said Vanion. "When negotiating with one deemed their inferior, they whisper in the ear of a servant. The servant, in turn, repeats your message. I intend to honor it."


    "That is really stupid," said Kiyora.


    "I am not overly fond of the custom myself, but I intend to be a courteous host," said Vanion. "It is a humiliation for a Calishan King to be forced to speak to one of lower rank without a servant. Oh, and Kiyora, if anyone asks, you availed upon me to submit to Calisha."


    "Submit?" asked Kiyora. "We just won."


    "And there lies the crux of my strategy," said Vanion.


    He said nothing more on that note. Of course, Kiyora could have asked him about it. William probably would have. But Kiyora knew the Duke well enough to know he longed to be asked and wasn''t in the mood to oblige him. So she waited for him to elaborate.


    Instead, Vanion sorted through some papers. His blue eyes flickered over each in turn. And then Banir arrived, and he put aside his notes and stood with a smile.


    "Ah, King Banir. I am glad you could grace us with your presence," said Vanion. "This boy is of your people. He will act as your voice in this matter unless you object."


    Banir looked at Felix and then whispered something in his ear. Felix looked at Vanion. "King Banir accepts this gift in the spirit of which it is given."


    "Excellent," said Vanion, offering Banir a chair. "Sit down, please. We have some business to discuss." He motioned to a kettle of tea. "Would you care for some tea?"


    Banir spoke his response to Felix. "King Banir does not mix business with pleasure."


    "A wise policy," said Vanion. "It is a shame that more of my countrymen do not share it. Despite our best efforts, I fear we have fallen short of your land in many ways." He sat down across from Banir. "Let me first say that your men fought bravely in the service of their nation. One can doubt their courage or the fortitude of their leader. It is lamentable that I should be forced to cut down such courageous warriors on the battlefield."


    There was a moment as Banir spoke to Felix. "King Banir desires to know your purpose in this meeting," said Felix. "He wishes to dispense with the formalities."


    If the response annoyed Vanion, he did not show it. "As you wish. We have a problem, for neither can gain as things stand now. If I send you and your men back in defeat, it will not aid my cause. I will only buy a brief reprieve and await the next army to seize Artarq and win glory for their Emperor. On the other hand, should you return as you are now, you will appear to have failed the Emperor.


    "Please understand I hold you in the highest respect. Indeed, you are among the greatest of the enemies I have yet faced on the battlefield. Yet, in every court, there are serpents. Many rivals, jealous of your achievements, will seek to turn the Emperor''s mind against you."


    "King Banir asks that you get to the point," said Felix.


    Vanion produced a parchment and offered it to Banir. "I have here a treaty I wish you to offer to Baltoth. I believe it is mutually beneficial to both parties. It should remove the need for any more unfortunate warfare."


    Banir looked over the parchment. His eyes widened in surprise, and he momentarily stared at it in shock. Then he looked up. "...Why would you offer such concessions when you are the victor?" he spoke with his voice.


    "You misunderstand me," said Vanion with a pleasant smile. "I merely wish things to come out the best for all involved. Should you bring this to the Emperor, I expect he will be pleased to have what he sought. Calisha will no longer have to rely on thieves and cutthroats for malas. And Harlenor need not fear the loss of their territories. I will be left in peace to mind my affairs, and you will have been the one to arrange this triumph."


    "What of my daughter?" asked Banir.


    "I will gladly release her along with you," said Vanion. "Indeed, I will offer safe passage for your army to cross over the river. However, it must be on the condition that they vow never to bear weapons against Harlenor again. It is a small formality; if all goes well, it is hardly necessary.


    "And you may take your arms with you."


    Banir looked at Vanion in a new light. Not necessarily a good one, though. "...I will take this to Baltoth and await his consideration. However, if I know his mind, I believe he will be open to your most generous offer."


    "That is all that can be hoped," said Vanion. "I will compose a letter to Baltoth describing the courageous conduct of your armies. Then none may speak ill of you. Now, I have a lot of work to do.


    "I will have food for you and your men soon enough."


    Banir departed, and Vanion watched him go with that same pleasant expression. As soon as he was gone, the joy disappeared from his face, and he began to write something down on some parchment. Kiyora had to ask.


    "So, is he among the greatest enemies you''ve faced?" Kiyora said.


    "Of course not," snapped Vanion in disgust. "Never tell anyone what you think of them if they have any power, Kiyora. It tends to backfire spectacularly."


    "So what do you think of him?" asked Kiyora.


    "Banir was a fool," said Vanion. "If he''d set up sentries and sent scouts over the bridge, he would have spotted us coming and been able to react. We''d have, at best, managed a fighting retreat. He could have advanced while Baltoth fed more and more troops over the river.


    "Instead, he blundered into my trap and was utterly defeated." He breathed out. "And if Baltoth is under the impression that Banir is a competent commander, he may send him against me again."


    "And you think writing a flowery speech about what a worthy opponent Banir was will do that?" asked Kiyora.


    "It worked at Desora," said Vanion. "Even so, I don''t expect Baltoth will be so forgiving a second time. The best Banir can hope for is early retirement. In that regard, what I write could go a long way to securing it.


    "Which is why Banir will cooperate. He needs to salvage his situation, and I am his only hope of doing that."


    Kiyora looked at Vanion. "You''re a bit eccentric for a human, aren''t you?"


    "What do you mean?" asked Vanion.


    "Well, I mean, every other human I''ve met has been all about honor and glory," said Kiyora. "Raynald or Lady Azgora would have wanted to kill the whole army and send them packing."


    "I''m aware. I am eccentric," said Vanion. "I do not care for battle unless it advances my goals. Wars are expensive and dangerous affairs that risk my life and the lives of my family. If I can keep out of them and still achieve my goal so much, the better."


    "And what is your long-term goal?" asked Kiyora.


    Vanion looked up with a guarded expression. He seemed to contemplate his answer. "That is a personal question. Still, I see no reason not to answer. The truth is that I have advanced to the greatest position of power I can hope to achieve in this life. Now, I must think of the next generation and what legacy I will leave behind.


    "King Andoa has lived a long time. But he is aging. His son is my age and has accomplished little. His granddaughters are of a similar age to William."


    Kiyora saw where this was going. "So, you want to marry William into royalty?"


    "I am already among the most powerful men who do not call themselves King," said Vanion. "I have a fair number of accomplishments. If William continues as he has been going, I believe he will be a suitable match." He eyed her carefully. "You don''t approve."


    "Well, not really," admitted Kiyora. "What if William doesn''t want to marry a Princess?"


    "Then I have no intention of pressing the matter," said Vanion quickly. "I broke off an engagement years ago to marry Azgora. I am not such a hypocrite as to put William in the same position. Still, I shall do all I can to persuade him of the value of the move.


    "Now I''ll have to ask you to excuse me. I must see to those wounded in battle. A personal touch goes a long way to earning the love of one''s men."


    He put away his papers and walked to the door.


    "Right, I should probably get going as well," said Kiyora. "I didn''t exactly leave things in the best of states." She only hoped Wraith hadn''t too severely wrecked the city. How many people had gotten killed because of him?


    "As you wish," said Vanion.


    Kiyora focused on departing the dream. She found her consciousness drifting up, up, up, and then...


    Then nothing.


    Kiyora reappeared within what appeared to be an armory. There were all kinds of weapons and armor lining the walls. She looked around. "...Huh, that''s odd."


    "Kiyora, where have you been?" said a dark, rasping voice.


    Kiyora turned around and saw a hulking figure clad in white and black armor. The helmet looked like a skull, and the torso had the design of ribs upon it. The entire thing had been made to appear like a metal skeleton. Oh, and two glowing bright green eyes were coming from the helm. Over his back was a black shield emblazoned with the symbol of a silver cobra.


    "Who the heck are you, dark lord?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, the helmet." said the figure before pulling it off. It was William beneath it.


    "Okay, William," said Kiyora, "what is with the armor?"


    "A gift from Lady Rusara," explained William, voice normal again. "What, don''t you like it?"


    "It''s inlaid with skulls," noted Kiyora. "Are you trying to look like a demon?"


    "Actually, yes," admitted William, looking at one gauntleted hand. "The idea is to terrify my enemies."


    "Okay, but is the voice changing necessary?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said William. "So why have you been gone so long?"


    "I uh... I don''t know," admitted Kiyora. "I didn''t wake up. Just slept. How long was I gone?"


    "About a week," said William. "We''ve been waiting for Baltoth''s response for some time. I was just going to see my Father. He is thinking about sending me with Raynald to the northern highlands of Khasmir."


    "Why there?" asked Kiyora.


    "Our satyr ally, Chieftain Relg, has recently approached us," said William. "He has come under threat by some of their enemies, and they want our assistance."


    "And here I was hoping the fighting was over," said Kiyora. "Speaking of which, how did that thing with Calisha work out?"


    "As I said, we''ve been waiting for Baltoth''s response," said William. "Though we haven''t faced any more attacks, that bodes well. There were a few skirmishes by Calishan''s trying to scout the area. But Tanith and Raynald intercepted those and destroyed them.


    "A message recently arrived to meet my Father. I was just going to stand with him."


    "And the armor is for?" asked Kiyora.


    "To make us seem impressive," admitted William.


    "Right," said Kiyora. "So, where is Felix?"


    "Feeding Massacre," said William. "The other servants are terrified of her, and he''s the only one she doesn''t growl at. Now come on, I''ve got to meet up with Father."


    He led her out of the armory and through the white-tiled halls of the Palace. At last, they came to the throne room. Entering it, they walked along a red carpet. At the far end of the room were two raised thrones overlooking the whole room. Upon the leftmost one was Duke Vanion. He was dressed in a black cloak and violet doublet. He looked very kingly indeed, especially with his hands clasped together. The other throne, Kiyora guessed was for Azgora, was empty.


    Many other soldiers were around him very closely. They were also clad in their full armor but not alone. There were courtiers and others, all farther from Vanion''s seat. The Duke observed William''s approach and nodded to him, then Kiyora. Then William took his place near Tanith.


    "William, you look menacing," said Tanith. "You might even impress someone if they weren''t aware of how much you used to cry after scraping your knee."


    "Be silent," said William. "This isn''t the time."


    "Oh, come on," said Tanith, "we''ve already won. I don''t even see why we all have to be here."


    "On the contrary," said William, "Baltoth may still reject us. In which case, this delay has merely been the calm before the storm."


    "Right, right," said Tanith. "If this works, do you think we''ll get a triumph in Antion?"


    "Doubtful," mused William. "Father''s political enemies will claim this deal was appeasement."


    "His political enemies aren''t the only ones," said Tanith. "Raynald has been ranting about this all week. He isn''t happy. He was hoping for a larger war, something to do with his family."


    "You don''t seem very unhappy," noted William.


    "Eh, blood and death are fun," said Tanith. "But you can have too much of a good thing. I want to take the time to enjoy some of the spoils I got from raiding."


    "I wasn''t aware you cared much for money," noted William. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I don''t," said Tanith, "I''ll probably invest what I stole in a merchant expedition. Felix gave me a few hints on where we ought to start, and I hear the sugar trade is a goldmine. But I was talking about that priestess I kidnapped from the temple of Baltoth. I think she is starting to appreciate me."


    "I don''t want to discuss this with you further," said William.


    Kiyora couldn''t believe what she was hearing. Tanith had openly admitted to keeping someone as a sex slave. And William didn''t show anything but mild distaste. In the same way, she didn''t like how Laurus smoked. She felt sick. She wanted to scream and yell but knew this wasn''t the time.


    So she tapped William on the shoulder. "William, can I talk to you over there?"


    "Of course," said William.


    They made their way out of the crowd toward the back of the room. Kiyora turned to William. "How are you friends with that girl?"


    "Tanith?" asked William. "Oh, we''ve known each other since we were children, and her Father is a close ally. Her lack of formality is nothing unusual."


    "I''m not talking about her lack of formality," said Kiyora. "I mean that she just admitted to keeping an innocent girl as a sex slave."


    "Innocent is rather dubious." mused William. "She was a priestess of Baltoth. They are often trained to fight and oversee crucifixions."


    "You know what I mean!" hissed Kiyora.


    "What do you want me to say, Kiyora?" asked William. "She was part of a raid. She took a captive as a slave. She decided to keep that slave for herself. I don''t see what your problem is?"


    "My problem is that slavery is wrong," said Kiyora.


    William stared at her as though she had grown a second head. "Kiyora, I have no idea what you are talking about. Slavery isn''t wrong or right. It''s just something that can happen."


    "Would you want to be enslaved?" asked Kiyora.


    "Of course not," said William. "But I don''t want to be stabbed to death either. That doesn''t mean there aren''t situations where killing someone is justified." He paused. "Look, I don''t like what Tanith is doing either; she''s changed a lot since she left Carn Gable. But she isn''t doing anything she doesn''t have a right to.


    "I''m not going to destroy years of friendship because she''s picked up a few bad habits."


    Bad habits? As if Tanith was smoking cigarettes outside the gates of the school. Kiyora was about to let William have it when suddenly the doors opened, and into the room came the herald. They quickly hurried back to their place.


    "The Envoy Emira, daughter of Suloth." said the herald.


    "Suloth?" asked Kiyora.


    "A son of Baltoth," said William. "The greatest of Baltoth''s children. How do you not know this?"


    She walked into the room, clad in flowing brown robes and wearing a concealing mask of gold. She was skinny and held an ornate silver scimitar by her side. Behind her was a muscular servant carrying a large wooden box.


    She bowed her head as she reached the throne. "Greetings to you, noble Vanion. I have walked from the Capital of Ruscow after King Banir brought your message. The Emperor Baltoth has considered your offer and has bidden me provide a gift in turn."


    "Why is she talking directly?" asked Kiyora.


    "In this situation, he is the servant, speaking for her master, Baltoth," said William.


    "Oh, right," said Kiyora.


    The box was put on the step and set down. Vanion made his way downward, and it was opened. He recoiled at what he saw, and there was a gasp. There, in the box, lay the head of King Banir. His expression was one of agony.


    "What is the meaning of this?!" said Vanion.


    "The Inexorable Baltoth salutes your heroic defiance," said Emira. "And approves of your wisdom to negotiate in the face of inevitable defeat. However, he asks that you not insult his intelligence by claiming Banir as a worthy opponent. The Emperor knows who serves him well and who squanders his resources.


    "The failure was Banir''s, and no credit falls upon him or his line for what you gave freely.


    "The Emperor Baltoth accepts your most generous offer."


    Vanion mastered himself. "Then, I shall accept this gift in the spirit of which it was given. I would ask that mercy be shown upon Banir''s daughter. She fought valiantly in service of her Emperor."


    "Rest assured, the Emperor knows who serves him," said Emira.


    "Please accept our hospitality for the night," said Vanion. "And when you return to your Emperor, tell him I apologize for my deception. In war, one must seek every advantage."


    "Of course," said Emira. "Baltoth understands the laws of war all too well."


    "Now," said Vanion, "I would ask that my closest advisors and I be left to speak alone."


    At these words, everyone filed out, speaking about what had happened. Emiran rose and departed without a word as Vanion looked at the head. Eventually, the remaining people were Raynald, Rusara, Vanion, William, and Kiyora. They and a servant, Vanion, took them by the shoulder to have him stay.


    Vanion waited until the room was almost empty. Then he let his anger show. "Barbarism!" He looked to the servant. "Sunthred, find some priests of Baltoth. See to it that King Banir be cremated with all proper funeral rights. And bring word to the satyr messengers. Tell them we will come to their aid."


    "At least we have a truce," said Rusara.


    "Yes, that is fortunate," said Vanion. "It frees up our soldiers for more important matters."


    "Father, what could be more important than the vendetta of the gods?" asked William.


    Vanion looked up in surprise at the voice, blinked twice, and recognized his son. "Ensuring our allies don''t fall," said Vanion. "Raynald. I want you and Rusara to take the forces we set aside and make for the highlands at once. Take William with you.


    "William, you will learn by their example."


    "Of course, Father," said William.


    "Right," said Kiyora, "well, I guess I''ll-" Then she found herself drawn upwards. "Oh, so now I''m waking up!" This was so typical!

 Chapter 90 - Eighteen: Nothing the Same

    Kiyora opened her eyes to find herself staring at a featureless white ceiling. There was a clean, clinical-like smell you got in hospitals. She was lying on a comfortable bed with a window to her left slightly ajar. Mom was sitting in a chair to her right. She sat up. "Mom?"


    Immediately, she hugged her.


    "Kiyora, you''re awake," said Mom, voice choking. "Thank goodness." Her arms wrapped around Kiyora tightly. There was no malice this time.


    Kiyora pulled back. "Are you alright?" she asked. "I mean, he isn''t still here, is he?"


    "No, he''s gone," said Mom. "And I should be the one asking if you are alright. You''ve been sleeping for so long. I''m so sorry, Kiyora! I... I don''t know what came over me! I didn''t mean to do it!"


    "Mom, don''t worry about it," said Kiyora. "It wasn''t you who tried to kill me; it was Wraith. What happened?"


    Mom paused, and her gaze turned to the clock. "It has been nearly a week since you were asleep. The doctors said your body was completely exhausted, and we feared you would never wake up. Things have been in absolute chaos, to be honest.


    "Everyone just woke up the day after and found themselves in places they hadn''t been before. It was a miracle no one was killed, but business ground to a halt for a day or two. The stock market took a significant hit as well.


    "Your Father hasn''t been able to paint anything all this time.


    "I''m babbling, aren''t I?"


    "What about Laurus?" asked Kiyora. "Is he alright?"


    "He''s fine," said Mom. "They found him near you. The medical team said that the possession was powerful on him. Even so, he made a full recovery. Kiyora, I..."


    "Yes?" asked Kiyora.


    "Things are going to be very different now," said Mom.


    "What do you mean?" asked Mom.


    "The doctors detected enormous magical energy in your blood," said Mom. "Far more than is normal, even for our family. That was why you were in a coma; all that power unleashed through you was more than your body could handle.


    "Some very important people want to speak with you."


    "What kinds of people?" asked Kiyora.


    "We shouldn''t be talking about this now," said Mom. "I''ll tell you about it later. I just... never mind. I''ll ensure our life is smooth, but you can''t argue with the Emperor when he decides.


    "For now, he hasn''t made it yet."


    "The Emperor?" said Kiyora. "You mean I''ve come to the attention of the Royal Family?"


    But Mom wouldn''t say any more on the subject no matter how she asked and turned the issue to other things. They left the hospital within the hour and after some minor checkups. On the way back, Kiyora looked out the window of Mom''s car. She saw people on the side of the street, walking around as though nothing had happened. It was very disturbing. Was it possible that they had all been possessed?


    The way everyone had forgotten it was downright uncanny. Much how everyone had forgotten about the last time Wraith was around. What was the Royal Family doing to cover it up this time?


    "The newspapers are talking about a chemical accident," said Mom. "Supposedly, a terrorist group slipped drugs into the meds. I think we both know that isn''t what happened."


    "Have they repaired the school yet?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes, the repairs finished a few days ago," said Mom. "You should be able to attend school as early as tomorrow."


    "Damn," said Kiyora, "I was hoping I''d get at least one day off."


    Mom smiled. "Well, we could always hope for another accident." She paused as they approached the house. "And there is your Father, painting again. Or trying at any rate."


    As Kiyora exited the car and went up the terrace, she saw Dad painting. His expression was dark, and his face was pale. His dark hair was concerned as he drew pictures of untold horrors. The things on the canvas were something other than what Kiyora liked looking at, and she focused on Dad.


    "Dad, are you alright?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes. I just... I felt him inside my head," said Dad. "Nothing is quite the same now, you understand?"


    "I know," She glanced at the painting and recognized something. "Hey, that''s Arsheen!"


    "Arsheen?" asked Dad. "Yes, that was the name I had in mind for it. A city under siege by an evil spirit."


    "It was Laughing Wraith," said Kiyora. "I saw this city like this in my dreams."


    "Well, we must have had the same vision then," mused Dad. "That means it exists for sure." It would have been cheering, but Kiyora had already known that. And if Arsheen existed, that also meant all the bad things were real.


    "I guess it does," said Kiyora. "I''m going to call Laurus and see if he is okay."


    "Alright," said Mom, "how about we go out to eat tonight, okay?"


    "That sounds wonderful to me, dear," said Dad.


    "I like it," said Kiyora. "Hey, maybe I can invite Laurus and the others. Is that okay?"


    "Of course it is," said Mom. "Though they might be busy."


    Kiyora went inside and made the call. After waiting for a moment, the phone picked up. "Hello?" said Laurus in a tired voice.


    "Hey, Laurus," said Kiyora. "It''s Kiyora."


    "Hey," said Laurus. "I um... I don''t know what to say here."


    "Forget about it," said Kiyora. "It wasn''t your fault what happened."


    "I know, but, um, my mom she, she''s afraid she''ll lose her job," said Laurus. "The Department of Spiritual Defense has been asking many questions."


    "Have you talked to Gisora?" asked Kiyora. "Her family might be able to pull some strings."


    "Yes, I have, but..." Laurus paused, "this is all my fault, to begin with. I''m sorry. I''m so sorry!"


    "Stop it," said Kiyora. "You were possessed."


    "No, I wasn''t," choked Laurus. "I mean, I couldn''t feel him the way everyone else could. Other people have forgotten what they were doing at the time. I remember everything, Kiyora! Serving him was like breathing; I didn''t even know I was doing it.


    "Not until the end, anyway."


    "Well, it wasn''t you," said Kiyora. "So stop beating yourself up over it. I spent a week in a coma because of him, so if I don''t blame you, no one else has any business doing it."


    "Okay," said Laurus. "I, uh, don''t know what to say here. Um, I think I''m going to go to bed early. I''ll see you tomorrow."


    "Wait," said Kiyora, not wanting to end things like this. Do you want to go out to eat with my parents and me?


    "I, uh, I don''t feel too well," said Laurus. "Sorry."


    "Right," said Kiyora, disappointed. "See you then."


    As he hung up, Kiyora looked at the phone. Mom''s hinting about things being about to change for her was getting on Kiyora''s nerves. She wanted information, and suddenly, she knew how to get it. She made another call, and Gisora picked up. "Hello?"


    "Hey, Gisora," said Kiyora.


    "Kiyora, you''re awake! Thank Alchara," said Gisora. "Um, are you okay?"


    "Fine," said Kiyora. "Listen, I was wondering if you could look into something for me."


    "What is it?" asked Gisora.


    "Well, Mom keeps hinting at how everything will change for me. It has something to do with the Royal Family," said Kiyora. "But she isn''t telling me anything, and I was wondering if you could look into it for me."


    "Why would I be able to tell if anything will change for you?" asked Gisora in bemusement.


    "Oh, right," said Kiyora. "Um, Mom says I''m a Princess. See, she distanced herself from the Royal Family."


    "Oh. Okay. I guess that makes sense," said Gisora. "I''ll see what I can find out."


    "Thanks," said Kiyora. "You''re the best, Gisora."


    "I''ll go do that now," said Gisora.


    "Oh, one more thing," said Kiyora, "Mom, Dad, and I are going out to eat. We were wondering if you might want to come with us?"


    "Sure," said Gisora. "It sounds fun. Are we going to invite anyone else?"


    "Well, I was planning to invite Laurus," said Kiyora. "But he doesn''t want to go. I haven''t called Reya yet."


    "Right, well, I''ll come," said Gisora. "It''ll be nice to talk."


    Reya, as it turned out, had things to do. Thus, it was just Kiyora, Gisora, and her parents. The restaurant was great, and Kiyora found herself hungrier than ever before. The food was delicious, and the music was good. They talked about all kinds of things, from art to gossip. Eventually, they finished their meal and dropped Gisora off.


    Kiyora found herself exhausted as she got back home. She slumped as she walked through the door. "Ugh, I am so beat. I''m going to bed."


    When she dreamed, she found herself back in Seathorius that night. She was by the ocean for another change of pace. It was beautiful with how it gushed against the white-sand shores. Looking around, Kiyora realized she was in a village of otters.


    Privately, she had always found otters to be very cute. However, she knew better than to say as much. Mainly when there were a great many of them with halberds. They were standing guard over a meeting of dwarves by a pier. She approached the dwarves and saw Bjorn there. He stood up and nodded to her. "Dreaming Goddess, you honor us by your presence at this momentous event."


    "Of course," said Kiyora. "I would not miss it for the world." She paused as she got near. "Erm, Bjorn, what is the event?''


    "Your priests are about to depart upon their ship to Artarq," said Bjorn. "Will you speak to them?"


    He motioned to the shoreline. There were three ships in the distance bearing the golden cobra of House Gabriel. There were also many otter vessels. In particular, one which a group of white-robed Nakmar was standing by.


    Oh, right, she was a goddess. She had to say something. Suddenly, Kiyora felt very conscientious. Which was weird; she''d never felt awkward like this before. Then again, she''d always thought of it as a dream before. "Right, yes. I really appreciate you guys leaving your homes to represent my eternal glory. Don''t do malas, and know I will be watching over you."


    "A stirring speech," said Bjorn without a hint of irony.


    "Look, I speak through actions, okay," said Kiyora. "Actions are what matter. What you do to people is real. What you say to people is the dream. I''m no good at speeches."


    Surprisingly, the priests seemed to take what she said very seriously. Someone was writing all this down. Kiyora had the feeling that she could have said anything literally. They would have still regarded it as profound. As the ship was boarded and set off, an otter with white fur came forward. He wore a red doublet and a red cap with a feather, which he removed and put over his heart as he bowed.


    "Greetings to you, milady. I am Rufos of the Otters," said the white otter. What an honor to meet one of your esteemed benevolence in the flesh!


    "Sure, I guess," said Kiyora. "Anything I can do to help?"


    "In truth, I am here to tell you of your counterpart. The Queen of the Satyrs has come to deliver her end of the bargain," said Rufos. "That was what she said."


    "Mistress of all Seathorius?" asked Kiyora. "Who is-"


    At that moment, the Mirror of Laevain landed in front of her, gripped by the demoness from before. Her tail was whipping in irritation. Kiyora felt that the crescent blade at the end of it could take out an eye. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "A petty title, paling compared to my unbridled true power," said the demoness. "Even so, I am content. I allow myself to be called as such. Purely to indulge those too feeble-minded to comprehend my incomprehensible glory."


    "Oh, you again," said Kiyora.


    This reaction seemed to annoy her. "Yes, I have come to deliver what you requested. Behold the Mirror of Laevian. I wouldn''t recommend taking the tarp off. It tends to disturb those of a weak mind."


    "Wait, you''re giving me the mirror?" asked Kiyora in surprise.


    "But of course!" said the demoness. "I made a deal and thus am bound by its conditions. Contracts are significant, you know. My word is my bond. Or would be if anything could contain my infinite majesty."


    "Huh, I assumed you''d try to assassinate me," admitted Kiyora.


    The demoness smiled. "I would not try it. I would merely do it. But if I killed you, someone competent might take the reigns. If you will excuse me, I have arrangements abroad to handle. Good day."


    And she flew off. Bjorn watched her go. "Dreaming Goddess?"


    "Yeah?" asked Kiyora.


    "Might I ask why you decided to demand the Mirror of Laevian from her?" asked Bjorn.


    "I dunno," admitted Kiyora. "It seemed like a pretty cool artifact; I figured I''d ask for it."


    "Yes, but what use can we put it to?" asked Bjorn.


    "Um, well, uh..." Kiyora was drawing a blank here. "I''ll level with you; I didn''t think this far ahead. Um, what do you think?"


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    "Our situation with the satyrs is stable." mused Bjorn. "However, in time, we may have to fight them. When that time comes, we might be able to count on an outside power for aid."


    "Who?" asked Kiyora.


    "We could give the Mirror of Laevian to Baltoth," said Bjorn. "He would surely look favorably upon such a gift."


    "Won''t that piss off the Harlenorian Kingdoms?" asked Kiyora.


    "It will likely make them less than pleased with us." mused Bjorn. "Still, since Calisha is the heir to the Dust Elven Empire of old. One could argue that the Mirror of Laevian belongs to them."


    "Not sure Harlenor is going to care what our justification is, frankly," said Kiyora. "Or Calisha, for that matter. Hey, how about we sell it? Have an auction, and whoever gives us the most money gets the mirror."


    Bjorn looked at her.


    "Oh, come on!" said Kiyora. "Money is good."


    "May I make a suggestion, Dreaming Goddess?" asked Rufos.


    "Sure, go ahead, Rufos," said Kiyora.


    "We otters are a neutral people," said Rufos. "We prefer to keep to ourselves and provide services to dwarf and satyr. Many ships stop by our ports to trade and resupply en route to Artarq or further down the coastline."


    "So?" asked Kiyora.


    "Why don''t we build a shrine here in Port Otter?" asked Rufos. "I''ll pay for it myself, and it shall give glory to all the gods of Seathorius, Laevian included. We shall spread this word, and pilgrims will come to see it. We will allow them to enter and look into the mirror for a small donation.


    "This is already a major trade route. We''ll all be wealthy very quickly."


    "I looked into that Mirror once," said Kiyora. "It showed me who I was. It wasn''t exactly fun." The funny part was she could hardly remember what she''d seen.


    "What does entertainment have to do with knowledge?" asked Rufos. "Many shall come from all over in pursuit of the wisdom it offers."


    "That would make quite a profit. Yet it would also make the mirror a target," said Bjorn. "I doubt the demoness will restrain herself from stealing it back."


    "Fine, then we give her a third of the profits," said Kiyora.


    "Hmm?" asked Bjorn, staring.


    "Port Otter builds the shrine, so they get a share," said Kiyora. "The Mirror is mine, so I get a share, and the demoness found the mirror, so she gets a share. We split the profits three ways. That way, everyone wants the shrine to keep getting business.


    "It''ll be a tourist attraction."


    "Tourist?" asked Rufos.


    "I mean a pilgrim attraction." amended Kiyora.


    "I''d rather we don''t share profits with the demoness," said Bjorn. "The Mirror is ours; why should she get a share?"


    "We''re at peace with her, right?" asked Kiyora. "If she attacks us, she''ll lose the money from the shrine. Which means she has an economic incentive not to rock the boat."


    "At the very least, it should make her hesitant to attack you." mused Rufos. "And few things are better for business than peace. Other than war, I suppose."


    Bjorn considered it. "It may work. Yet, what would we use the money for?"


    "Bjorn," said Kiyora, "I''m not exactly one for nitty-gritty details. Just talk it out with King Wiglaf. Find something productive and useful to do with it all. And we can spend it improving my temples and stuff."


    "I will look into it," said Bjorn.


    "Anyway," said Kiyora, "I am awesome. I''m going to tell William about this, okay? You handle the details."


    "As you-"


    Kiyora departed in a flash. She saw William standing on top of a cliff, looking down. She ran up to him as quickly as she could. "Hey, William, I had this great- Um..." She trailed off. She had just noticed that he was standing in the presence of Lord Raynald and Lady Rusara. They were looking over a table with a map, speaking with armored men and satyrs. There was tense air around them, and a huge army was a little further down the hill.


    Men and satyrs stood grim and determined, awaiting the coming of some unknown enemy. William looked up from where he was sharpening his sword with mild irritation.


    "I''m guessing you''re busy," said Kiyora. Mother had been bedridden for the past few days. She didn''t look happy about the fact, even if she was months pregnant. William entered the room, keeping his helmet slung under one arm as he approached. She looked up at him with narrowed eyes.


    "Mother, I''m going," said William. "I thought I''d come to say goodbye."


    "Vanion has told me of your exploits during battle," said Mother. "Would that I had been there.


    "Unfortunately, it has been too long since my spear was driven home into the breast of an enemy. Even so, I am glad you played a part in the victory. You should seek to be part of the combat in this coming fight. In the field of battle, with a sword on sword, that is where true glory is.


    "Everything else is merely preparation. I fear your Father has never understood that."


    "I''m sure Raynald will place me wherever I need to be," said William. He wasn''t about to tell her he had no desire to ever be in combat again.


    "If he does not place you in the thick of the fighting, you should request it," said Mother. "There is where you will earn your place as a warrior."


    "I understand," said William.


    "I wish I were coming with you," said Azgora. "However, your brother and sister keep me here."


    "Brother and sister?" asked William.


    "Yes, the priests tell me I will bear twins," said Azgora. "I am glad to have a daughter finally. I am still proud of you, of course."


    "Thank you, Mother," said William, not at all sure of what to say. "I should go."


    As he made his way down to the courtyard, he tried to ignore the weight of his armor. He far preferred his lighter chain shirt to this, even if it didn''t afford nearly as much protection. Kiyora''s concern about the appearance of it was one he shared privately, but Rusara had chosen it. Inspiring fear was an essential part of Dust Elven warfare, or so William had been taught by Rusara.


    He pulled his black cloak closer around him as he entered the courtyard and found Tanith waiting. "Ready?" she asked.


    "Yes," said William. "Though the armor is heavy."


    "Get used to it," said Tanith. "You''ll be wearing it for a while."


    "Yes, yes," said William.


    "What''s the harp for anyway?" asked Tanith.


    "Oh, this?" said William, looking at the harp hanging under his crimson cloak. "It''s for Massacre."


    "The chimera is coming?" asked Tanith, sounding impressed.


    "Yes," said William. "The only reason she didn''t come with us in the first place was that she is a child of Typhos. Our mission ran contrary to Typhos'' interests. She''ll help our chances with this, though."


    "Right," said Tanith doubtfully. "Where are Felix and the chimera anyway?"


    "Felix is concluding some business deals," said William. "Massacre went with him."


    "Yours?" asked Tanith.


    "No, his own," said William. "Still, it isn''t like Felix to be late."


    "Well, he isn''t late yet," said Tanith.


    There was a long silence. William searched for something to say. "Tanith, what was being in battle like for you?"


    "Oh, it was fun," said Tanith.


    "Fun?" asked William. "I thought you were just blustering when you said that before."


    "I meant every word," said Tanith. "The best time I''ve ever had. I remember I hit one of them in the face with my sword. He screamed until I hit him again and caved in his skull. I remember the sensation of my blood pumping as I hacked and slashed my way through them. I wish I could have felt that way forever."


    "Are you sure that''s healthy?" asked William. "Enjoying ending another''s life?"


    "You''re worse than Raynald," muttered Tanith. "Of course, it''s healthy. War is how Haldrenians prove themselves worthy of their titles. It has been since there has been a Haldren. Killing Calishans is our duty. So how can it be wrong to enjoy doing what Elranor wants us to do?"


    "I''m not sure Elranor has a grudge against Calishans," said William. "So much as Baltoth."


    "Is that why you saved the Calishans, then?" asked Tanith, an edge in her voice.


    "My father had a use for Banir," said William. "And I thought capturing a King of Calisha would be glorious." He knew it was a lie.


    "Really? And his minions?" asked Tanith.


    "I almost drowned once, Tanith," said William. "I watched Felix almost drown. It isn''t something I''d wish on my worst enemies."


    "They''re Calishans," said Tanith.


    "Yes, and if I''m ever captured by one, I''d rather not be executed out of hand," said William. "Having a reputation for benevolence to one''s defeated enemies can help one''s chances. Not every battle is a victory."


    "I guess," said Tanith. "You sound just like Duke Vanion, you know. I remember Raynald, and he argued."


    "What about?" asked William.


    "Raynald wanted to execute every prisoner who wasn''t worth anything. Then we''d ransom the rest," said Tanith. "Send a message to Calisha."


    "Well, that sounds like Raynald." said William, "I think I know what Father''s response was."


    At that moment, Felix and Massacre got back. The Calishan boy approached, throwing his violet cloak behind him. "I''m sorry I wasn''t here sooner. Some unexpected business came up."


    "Don''t worry about it," said Tanith. "So, you sat in on a negotiation between Duke Vanion and King Banir. What''d they talk about?"


    "For the most part, Duke Vanion flattered him, offered him generous terms, and got him to leave," said Felix.


    "That''s all?" asked Tanith.


    "More or less," said Felix. "It was some time ago, but Vanion held all the cards. It wasn''t exciting."


    "And here I''d hoped there had been some secret negotiations," said Tanith. "Ah well, can''t argue with total victory. And the bastard ended up dead anyway, so all ends well."


    "Don''t concern yourself with it," said William. "Let''s focus on what we can affect. Let''s get outside the gates before Raynald sends a search party."


    They began their walk. As they did, Tanith looked thoughtful. "I don''t understand why we made friends with the satyrs up north anyway."


    "Surely you must have read the history," said William.


    "I''ve dropped out of reading history. Mostly since signing up with Lord Marn," said Tanith, which was no excuse since they''d been taught it. How much had she forgotten?


    "Well, fortunately for you, I have not," said William. "Khasmir is of strategic importance. If the Calishans were to gain control of it, they could move their armies across the river. They could then head south over the northern frontier. They know it, and we know it. That''s why we must support our allies in the region."


    "I don''t see why we couldn''t just kill all the satyrs," said Tanith. "Then, once they were dead, we could move our colonists in."


    "The Calishans would have an easy time marching through graveyards," mused William. Note to self: appeals to pragmatism had a more significant effect than an appeal to one''s conscience.


    "Oh right," said Tanith. "It would be pretty hard to hold that region by ourselves. So, who are our allies again?"


    "We''re allied with the Fireeyes Clan and their vassals," said William. "They converted to worship Elranor some years ago, and their leader was educated in Antion. The Bloodhowlers are a group who worship Baltoth, originally from Seathorius. We can be grateful that they are the smallest Khasmir factions."


    "I don''t understand why they didn''t cross the river near their allies, then head south," said Tanith.


    "They could have," said William. "But we''d have heard about it. And all the other clans would have allied to fight off a hostile invasion. Once we came with reinforcements, they would face a far larger army than before."


    "Well, what about the worshippers of Fortenex?" asked Tanith. "The ones we fought before."


    "They are a minority of the neutral clans long at war with the worshippers of Kreshlak," said William. "I suspect they allied with Wraith in the hopes of tipping the scales in their favor."


    "Who worships Kreshlak?" asked Tanith.


    "Everyone except the worshippers of Fortenex," said William. "Viokin traders spread his worship well before we even owned Artarq. You see, this was before the Viokin Wars and-"


    "Okay, okay, whatever," said Tanith. "I remember reading about all this in Carn Gable. It''s coming back to me. The Viokins had a stint of sending missionaries out to other lands."


    "If you don''t want the answer to your questions, you shouldn''t ask them, Tanith," said William.


    "Just tell me who I need to stab when I need to stab them, okay," said Tanith. "I know history is important, but I have no talent for it. I''m better at languages. Still, I can learn more about this feud between Kreshlak and Fortenex.


    "Worth noting about in my journal."


    "As you wish," said William, feeling a twinge of irritation. She never used to have this little regard for her education.


    The army traveled north on the road for several days. William spent much of his spare time helping the priests heal people. The men who got injured or sick along the route were grateful. They didn''t run into anything serious, of course. Yet, in an army of thousands, someone was permanently getting injured.


    He had a limited amount of spare time. Raynald and Rusara were making all kinds of day-to-day decisions. William watched these, observed, and tried to learn as best he could. Most of them were dreary, such as the placement of latrines or the organization of the camp. But he knew such decisions were critical, so he held his tongue and listened.


    At night, he would play his music for Massacre. Yet he found that his music became something of an event. Many of the women in the army came to listen, as well. He found he enjoyed the attention.


    Before long, they had passed by the castle of Lord Asimir, now under the management of Sarris. The wall had been partially repaired, and they took shelter there for the night. The land, however, had begun to change. The grass was turning to a more pleasant shade, and the area seemed far less harsh.


    "It seems that Elranor is extending his influence over this place at last," said Raynald. "Good. I was tired of Baltoth holding territory in a land that belongs to Harlenor."


    "I have always found Elranor''s domains to be far too tame," mused Rusara.


    The following day they pressed on to Khasmir.


    The ground grew steadily rougher, and the air far colder. The trees here were twisted and low to the ground, while vegetation was hard to come by. Once or twice, William saw mountain goats wandering the landscape. Several were hunted for meals by soldiers when they did not flee quickly enough.


    Kreshlak''s will soon become known, and travel injuries became more common. It also began to rain more, and the wind was always howling. William spent much time healing those who fell or became severely cold. A few fell into frozen rivers, and he could not save them all. It had taken constant effort to keep them alive until Rusara''s fire could warm them.


    "Now, do you see why we brought all that heavy clothing?" asked William.


    "Yes, yes," Tanith said, pulling her cloak closer, "this is even worse than Baltoth''s domain. How can anyone stand it?"


    "Baltoth and Kreshlak both share the philosophy that hardship creates strength," said Felix. "The difference is Baltoth appreciates the benefits of an advanced civilization. Kreshlak would prefer it if everyone lived in yurts and hit each other with axes all day."


    "I would keep such opinions to yourself," William warned him. "Those who dwell here may be of a different mind." He looked at Felix. "I''m surprised, though; I didn''t know you held him in such contempt."


    "Kreshlak is in many ways the antithesis of my beliefs," said Felix. "Professing a meaningless warrior code and condemning the use of cunning and cooperation. As if brute force was the source of power."


    "And what is the source of power?" asked William, curious as to his answer.


    "Your ability to achieve your objectives," said Felix. "If you accomplish what you set out to do, then you are powerful. If you fail, you are not. Power is one''s ability to enforce one''s will upon a universe that defies you. Everything else is merely window dressing.


    "Look at Duke Vanion. He is physically inferior to both Raynald and Lady Azgora. He needs to gain more skill in magic to compare to Rusara. And yet he is the most powerful person in this land."


    "I never heard you speak this way," mused William. "Is this a personal philosophy?"


    "No," said Felix. "It has a basis in my holy texts."


    "Your holy texts?" asked Tanith in amusement. "What are you, a god?"


    "I mean to say the holy texts that the Duke had stored in Carn Gable''s library," said Felix quickly. "You see, he purchased several texts written by Baltoth and put them away. However, aside from the Duke, I was the only person who ever read them, so I felt like they were mine."


    "Yes, I remember those," said William. "I always meant to read them but never got around to it. I''m surprised you liked them so much. Considering-" William stopped as he realized he had nearly opened up old wounds.


    Felix did not show any distress other than looking a bit melancholy. "What Baltoth did to my family was not personal. It was merely the law, and he was enforcing it. Ruthless punishment of those who steal from the crown keeps others from doing the same."


    "You know, I''ve been saying that for years," said Tanith. She had not.


    Soon, they began to pass villages of satyrs, always on hilltops and surrounded by walls. The people came out to watch them warily, holding weapons. Their warriors kept their guard up, and someone blew a horn. Another followed the horn. Then, it was answered by another two calls somewhere in the difference.


    "A warning sign," mused Tanith.


    "Yes," said Raynald, who had been walking along the lines. "The Fireeyes clan has a very organized series of warning systems. Each village chief has four horns: one for the north, one for the south, one for the east, and one for the west. They blow one or two of them to signify the direction of the enemy army. Then the other villages blow their horns when they hear it."


    "Wouldn''t it be much simpler to light a signal fire?" asked Felix.


    "It would," admitted Raynald. "Relg always was fond of making things too complicated for his good."


    They passed several other villages and heard several more horn calls. Raynald listened to them and frowned. After a moment, he looked at them.


    "North," said Raynald. "There is an army approaching from the north."


    "Are you sure?" asked William. "I mean, suppose a village south of here saw an army approaching them from the north? Then the army would be to the south."


    "Wouldn''t some other villages have warned them beforehand?" asked Tanith. "You know, before the army got south of us."


    "This system is complicated to the point of being useless," mused Felix.


    "Oh, I forgot to mention something," said Raynald. "The horn calls don''t say whether they are north, south, east, or west of the village. They say they are north, south, east, or west of Kynn."


    "What is Kynn?" asked Tanith.


    "The most formidable fortress in Khasmir," said Raynald. "Armies have broken on it like the sea against cliffs. It''s probably the only worthwhile thing the satyrs ever made."


    "It is the capital of our allies in Khasmir," said William.


    Some hours later, they came within sight of their destination. It sat at the top of a cliff, with the southern side a sheer cliff and only one possible area of the approach. William felt climbing would be difficult, even for him and Felix.


    The fortress looked like it had been assembled with a plan or idea of its shape. The towers were all at different heights, though they were tall. The stonework was of several styles, chipped and cracked in many places. Satyrs patrolled it with bows.


    "So that''s the fortress," said William. "Not nearly so impressive as I thought it would be."


    "That''s Kynn?" asked Tanith. "It doesn''t look very well defended."


    "That is because the army is over there," said Felix.


    The cliff had hidden the army, but now they could see it. It was quite large, though it still needed to improve in numbers to their own. The satyrs within it were clad in leather and wielded axes and shields. No scimitars could be seen like their cousins in Seathorius used. They also looked a bit shorter and bulkier.


    Raynald, at this moment, approached. "William, I''m going to meet with Relg. You will accompany me. Rusara will be in command in my absence."


    "You don''t think they''ll betray us?" asked William.


    "I have no good reason to think they will," said Raynald. "But who knows what these satyr animals will get up to on a whim? I''m not taking any chances. Besides, we might come under attack while meeting with them."


    The satyrs had a similar idea. Their leaders came forward with a white flag at around the same time. The two groups marched to meet each other, and William saw the satyr leader, Relg, he guessed. He was taller than his brethren and thinner, too. His eyes were dark, and his fur was black as night. He wore a long brown cloak around metal armor. He bowed his head as Raynald approached. "Lord Raynald De Chevlon. News of your victories in battle has reached across the world. I am glad that a great warrior has come to our aid."


    "I thank you, Chieftain Relg Fireeyes," said Raynald, none of his disdain in his voice. "We men of Harlenor always honor our debts and remember our friends long after we have been forgotten. What troubles you?"


    "Many of the neutral clans have been united in common cause against us," said Relg. "We feared they would attack us, and our fears have borne fruit. Even as we speak, they march toward us. We will need your steel on this day to gain victory."


    "You have it," said Raynald. "My men and their arms are as one with yours."


    "Then together we shall slaughter our enemies!" said Relg. "Let us bring our officers together and make our plans upon this ground."


    "It shall be so," said Raynald.


    After they had separated, William looked to Raynald. "Why wouldn''t Relg have his army within Kynn, Raynald? It seems a waste to leave the fortress unoccupied when he is there."


    "Kynn is his great advantage," said Raynald. "And satyrs know nothing of loyalty. Most of that army comes from Relg''s vassals. If he let them in, they might never leave. So he would much rather confront his enemies far afield and fall back to Kynn if he suffers a defeat."


    "I see," said William. "He is very well-spoken, isn''t he?"


    "Relg was educated in Antion. He speaks Harlenorian with perfect clarity," said Raynald. "It doesn''t make him any less of a satyr."


    Duly noted.

 Chapter 91 - Nineteen: Beasts of Hell

    It was about midday when the army was assembled in full. Their banners upraised and spears glinting in the sun. Of course, the landscape had changed from frozen windswept to sweltering. Kreshlak had decided on a change of scenery. However, their equipment was equally effective by his will. The army that had been assembled was far more significant. It was definitely larger than the one sent against the Calishans. More mercenaries had arrived, swelling the number of Harlenorians to almost seven thousand. And many more were behind, gathering in hopes of a long war. The auxiliaries of Artarqian spearmen were swelled by new blood. Many had finished their training and were now considered ready.


    Once they had been two thousand, they were four times that at eight thousand. Each one had been given winter clothing that had now been cast off. They bore spears and large shields and were on the flanks, having paid for their equipment. William wondered if they would be of any use to justify their pay. Father had to supply them and provide them wages for each week of service. The additional profits from selling to Calisha would help here.


    But would it be enough? It would take some time to establish things.


    There were also Dust Elves, in the same numbers and equipment as before. Dust Elves never committed their entire force to a battle. Elves preferred to avoid large-scale wars because replacing them would take so long. And wars of attrition were right out, especially if they were in foreign lands they did not know. Rusara had sent merchants to learn the lay of the ground many decades ago so they were not blind. Yet, by and large, their guides were satyrs, which was worrying.


    These archers had been supplemented by skirmishers drawn up from Artarq''s population. Men clad in light armor at best, with small shields and bearing slings for the most part. They needed to be better to afford the equipment necessary for the spear ranks. William had spent time healing some among them and talked to them. Most had little chance of glory or profit in Artarq and sought adventure and power. Even so, they had been trained, and slings could be as deadly as any sword. They numbered three thousand, which meant the army numbered about nineteen thousand.


    Which was then enhanced by the warbands that Relg had drawn up, nearly nine thousand. Though that was a guess, Tanith made it based on campfires. So, twenty-eight thousand in total, and caravans of supplies would have to feed them. With the disease threats, William had spent much time working with priests to keep the army alive. Laevian was a constant companion on the road, in one way or another.


    Getting water was difficult here, and men were being sent out to fetch from wells for miles. Barrels were being brought in as well, filled with supplies. But many of them were eaten almost as soon as they arrived.


    William only prayed that Barden would likewise be beside their caravans. A few days of hunger would turn this rescuing army into a menace.


    "This is what Kreshlak does," said Raynald in irritation. He looked up reports on logistics. "He''s never let continuity get in the way of a given battlefield. I just pray he isn''t going to have ice spirits make fun of our caravans."


    "How do they raise crops here?" asked William.


    "There are designated fertile areas that are exempt from change. It is forbidden to fight there," said Raynald. "Fighting on his terrain is always a miserable experience. He prefers appearances over convenience."


    Raynald had ordered them to take a position on a hill, pitching their camps. The location overlooked a barren and rocky pass that came in from the north. With the army arrayed down before them, the leaders began discussing plans.


    "Lord Raynald," said Tanith, "why here?"


    "This area is of strategic importance, Tanith," said Raynald. "This is the pass of the Sacred, where the worshippers of Elranor stopped an invasion. If not for the ambush that Relg''s ancestor set, the faith of Elranor could have been wiped away overnight.


    "That was back when the Calishans controlled Artarq and were a menace to the people here. They have a holiday here to mark the day."


    "What is a holiday?" asked William.


    "It''s a stupid waste of time that inferior cultures use as an excuse not to work," said Tanith. "You pick a major victory and declare no one has to work on that day."


    "That is the most foolish thing I''ve ever heard," said William. "You can slack off any time if you want to pay the price."


    "Some people are just different," said Raynald. "Elranor has no holidays, and neither does Baltoth. We celebrate victory and nothing else.


    "But it doesn''t matter.


    "If the worshippers of Kreshlak decide to invade, they must go through here. Either that or journey a long way to the west or east and go around. That will take them through Calishan territory. They may be able to keep their supplies up that long anyway.


    "No, they will come through here.


    "When they do, we''ll break their army. From there, we can begin our invasion."


    "Yes, I know that," said Tanith, "I meant, why did we set up our camp here when there are some good trees over there? We''ll use a lot more water this way."


    "We have a clear view of the battlefield here," said Raynald. "So the sorcerers will just have to work at drawing water a bit harder than usual. A quick response time is essential. If the men can see the enemy coming through, they''ll be in more of a hurry."


    "So is conserving supplies," said Tanith.


    "Raynald, Tanith dear, I think you''re missing the point," said Rusara. "We weren''t ordered to invade the worshippers of Kreshlak."


    "We''re not going to try and hold any ground," said Raynald. "Once we break their army, we''ll press our advantage and ransack the countryside. We''ll enslave people, steal everything we can get our hands on, and burn the rest."


    "I doubt I''ll find any worthwhile slaves in Khasmir," muttered Tanith. "Satyr women aren''t much to look at." There were murmurs of agreement from the other officers.


    "Cheer up," said Raynald, "there must be something worth looting in this place. You can usually turn a profit from war; you need to look in the right place."


    "Unfortunately, you''ll have to be content with your pay, Tanith," said Rusara. "We can''t afford to go around looting Khasmir."


    "Rusara," said Raynald, "most of the soldiers in this army joined because they wanted to loot and pillage. I can''t exactly tell them they aren''t allowed to do it. They''ll make a run for it."


    "You''ll have to," said Rusara. "The Calishans aren''t willing to invade Khasmir for one reason. They know that all the neutral factions will unite against a common enemy. They may put aside self-preservation for revenge if we earn their hatred."


    "Yes, yes," said Raynald. "I suppose we''ll just have to stick to looting the bodies of our fallen enemies." Disappointed murmurs.


    There was a flash at that moment, and Kiyora appeared, rushing up to him. "Hey William, I had this great-." She paused as she saw the army. "Um... I''m guessing you''re busy."


    William looked up in surprise. How was it that she always showed up when he least expected it? "Not at the moment. This is more the calm before the storm than a time of any pressing need."


    "Right," said Kiyora, "so what is happening?"


    "Raynald has taken the high ground here with our satyr allies," said William. "The worshippers of Kreshlak should be coming by this road soon enough. They''ll have to engage us or go around when they get here.


    "If they go around, we can move ourselves to block them again, and they''ll exhaust themselves. We''ll hold the advantage if they attack, which is more likely."


    "Okay, I have no idea what any of that means," said Kiyora.


    William explained things quickly again. Kiyora listened and nodded, pretending to understand. "Right, okay, so what are you doing here? Shouldn''t you be down there with the army?"


    "Rusara wants me to observe and learn. If the battle gets desperate, involve me," admitted William. "Otherwise, I''ll spend time healing the wounded they drag back here. She doesn''t want me in action just yet."


    "Well, that sucks," said Kiyora.


    Relg came into view then, followed by a shorter satyr with ruddy gray fur, wearing a large axe on his back. "I do not agree with this course of action, Relg," the gray satyr said. "A warrior should meet the enemy on the battlefield and slaughter them all to the last."


    "Yes, Kusher and he would be badly weakened in the process," said Relg. "I expect the worshippers of Baltoth would be keen to attack next. And even if we were victorious, the better part of our fighting strength would be destroyed.


    "Do not be too eager to leap into battle, brother."


    "And you would instead hide behind these humans?" snarled Kusher.


    "Not hide," said Relg. "Work with. We''ll let the enemy exhaust themselves coming to us. Then we''ll stop them here. Elranor smiles at those who choose their battles wisely."


    "So what''s all this about Kreshlak and Baltoth," asked Kiyora.


    "That is a bit complicated," said William. "You see, most of the satyr clans in this region have been converted. To the worship of Elranor and Kreshlak, I mean¡ªthose allied with Calisha worship Baltoth. The neutral satyr clans pay homage only to Kreshlak and their ancestral deities.


    "Tamar, the Goddess of Eastern winds, for one. Though I gather her domain is empty, they worship only her memory.


    "There is some overlap, of course."


    Felix got back at this point. Or rather, he had brought back five minutes ago, but no one had noticed him except William. He was standing directly behind Tanith and kneeling. Though Rusara had been looking at him before anyone else, perhaps she''d seen.


    "Felix, you''ve returned," said Rusara.


    "Yes," said Felix. "It is as Lord Relg said, Lady Rusara. The worshippers of Kreshlak are making their way here en masse. They number far fewer than half our forces. They might have been evenly matched if they had met Relg in battle. Against our combined might, it would be a massacre."


    "Perfect," said Raynald, pointing to the map. "We''ll arrange the spearmen in the front here and here. Rusara, your archers and slingers, will fire into their ranks as soon as they come within range. After that, they fall behind the line as they approach. Relg, place your berserkers on the left flank. Tanith, you''ll lead the swordsmen and mercenaries on the right here. We''ll let them come to us and shred them to pieces."


    "There is something else, sir," said Felix.


    "What is it?" asked Raynald, looking annoyed.


    "This isn''t just an army," said Felix. "They have women and children with them on wagons along with all their possessions. While watching them. I heard them talking about strange creatures that had driven them out. Monsters. They are running from something."


    "I didn''t know you spoke satyr," said Tanith.


    "I don''t," said Felix. "They spoke Harlenorian. The languages have bled together a bit. Why do you think you can talk with Lord Relg?"


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    "This is perfect!" said Tanith, ignoring the point. "We can get all the benefits of sacking their villages without actually doing it!"


    "Tanith is right," mused Raynald. "We''ll make a tidy profit selling the survivors into slavery. And we can loot their valuables. The Sornian sugar plantations always looked for new bodies to work in the fields. Anything else?"


    William had to do something about this. "Raynald, if I may?" he said.


    "Yes, of course," said Raynald.


    "If they come here with women and children, they are desperate. Desperate people fight harder," said William. "And they remember people who help them far longer than those for whom the sun shines."


    "What do you suggest?" asked Raynald with a raised eyebrow. "That we give them food and water and let them take over our ally''s lands?"


    Since when did Raynald start giving a damn about their allies? The question held a certain degree of resentment, which surprised William. However, he controlled himself. "I merely wish to speak with them before we commit to slaughtering desperate men. These creatures Felix speaks of may be of concern to us as well."


    "Relg, what is your view on this?" asked Raynald.


    "We had heard rumors of these creatures before," admitted Relg. "Monsters with the bodies of snakes and arms like scythes. However, we had not known them to be so formidable.


    "Anything which can drive the worshippers of Kreshlak to flee is a dangerous foe. What if we ally with them and help them regain their homeland? They might well be willing to accept the authority of Elranor."


    "Well, that is what Vanion would do," mused Raynald. "Fine, we''ll try things your way, William. However, I doubt the army will be pleased."


    The army was arrayed, and soon enough, they saw their enemy approaching. True to Felix''s words, it was far smaller than their own and soon drew to a halt. Many wagons drawn by oxen came with them, stuffed with people. The two armies were arrayed, and Kiyora looked at them curiously.


    "They don''t look very enthusiastic, do they?" asked Kiyora.


    "Would you be enthusiastic about these odds?" asked William. "They''re not soldiers; they''re refugees."


    "Brother, we should attack!" said Kusher. "They''re exhausted and fewer than us! We can crush them now!"


    "The time for battle has not yet come, Kusher," said Relg.


    "Not yet, come?" asked Kusher. "Are you a chieftain or the human''s lapdog-"


    It was remarkable how quickly Relg acted. His hand was around Kusher''s throat, and the other satyr was smashed on the ground, being choked. A blade was set to his belly, and Relg looked at his brother with a deadly calm expression. "The next time you wish to disagree with me, brother, you will demonstrate due respect. Or I''ll kill you. Understand?"


    Kusher nodded. The blade was removed, and Relg stood. "Good. Now, let''s go to meet with the enemy."


    "Tanith," said Raynald, "put forward the flag of parley."


    "Why me?" asked Tanith incredulously.


    "Consider it a compliment," said William, clapping her on the shoulder. "A show of our faith in your abilities."


    "Funny how every time someone shows faith in my abilities, I get a volley of arrows shot at me," muttered Tanith.


    To William''s relief, nobody launched a volley of arrows at Tanith. The satyr chieftain came forward with his honor guard to meet Raynald and Relg with theirs this time. The chieftain was a giant of a satyr with bulging muscles. Yet as he approached Relg, he looked at the smaller satyr with terror.


    Just what was it that made everyone so afraid of Relg? He had threatened to kill his brother, of course. Perhaps he was considered ruthless, even by satyr standards.


    "I am Relg of the Fireeyes clan," said Relg. "Why have you intruded on my domain?"


    "I am Chieftain Atrain of the Swordarm clan." said the Chieftain. "We... we are seeking shelter. Terrible monsters have driven us from our homes and even now ravage the lands of the people of Kreshlak. Kreshlak''s priests bade us to seek the aid of the worshippers of Elranor. We beg of you to provide us with the land; in return, our swords and the swords of your descendants shall be yours. We will; we will pay homage to Elranor and Kreshlak."


    It was an unfortunate play. Offering concessions to start with. Even if he was desperate, he should have pretended to be confident. If only to make them think he might have something up his sleeve.


    Kusher looked at him with obvious contempt. "Miserable wretch, why should we-"


    He stopped as Relg raised a hand. "You ask us to aid you," said Relg. "However, we have little land to spare ourselves. Yet in the spirit of brotherhood between all satyrs, we shall consider your request."


    "I thank you," said Atrain.


    "Now, tell me everything that has occurred," said Relg.


    Atrain nodded. "Some weeks ago, a comet shot across the sky and landed in our lands. From it spewed forth many monsters, the likes of which we have never seen. They killed without mercy, but they ignored wildlife. All their focus was on our people.


    "At first, it was only a few raids. They would attack a village and drag the dead away. Yet soon, they multiplied. Within a week, they were everywhere, and we could hardly hold our own."


    "Why did you not go to the other clans of Kreshlak for help?" asked Relg.


    "We sought aid at the nearby clan of Krishiv. Yet our messengers found them under siege by great armies of the monsters," said Atrain. "We choose to flee before we can become encircled. I fear it is only a matter of time before they are overwhelmed."


    "Then we will go to their aid," said Relg. "Raynald, I will ensure these monsters do not spread further. Chieftain Atrain, you and your warriors will refresh yourselves in our wells. Then, you will go to the aid of Krishiv and relieve the siege under the command of Raynald. I will remain here and ensure that your families are cared for."


    It was as much a threat as it was an act of generosity. Relg was taking hostages in case Atrain attempted treachery. However, Raynald narrowed his eyes. He didn''t like being given orders."


    "Well, of course," said Raynald. "Your brother should come with us. He seems eager for war." Relg turned, and his gaze met Raynald. After a moment, he shrugged and relented. "The experience will do him good."


    Then there was a roar. Over their heads shot six blurs of flaming rock. William could feel the heat of it on his face as they soared overhead. The ground shook as they crashed into the distance, throwing them from their feet. William felt his helmet clang against a rock, and it took a moment for him to arise. As he composed himself, he heard the shrieks.


    They were ungodly, horrible shrieks of agony. William stood unsteadily and saw two fallen meteors looming in the distance. Then, holes were broken in their base from within. Out of those holes poured many snake-like creatures with scythe arms. They had the mandibles of insects and slithered quickly toward them.


    "What the hell?" said Raynald.


    "More of them," cried Atrain. "More of them have come!"


    Raynald drew his sword. "Get your people behind the lines. Form up your warriors with us and prepare to repel the attack! Shields up!"


    A hand fell on William''s shoulder. "William, stay behind the lines."


    What! No, he was going to fight! He didn''t want to, but he had to. "Let me-" he began.


    "Not this time!" snarled Rusara. "You have another task! Now come on!"


    William hurried behind Rusara, feeling a twinge of resentment. He wanted to prove himself in battle, but Rusara wouldn''t let him. This was the second battle William had been forced to sit out. Then he noticed as he reached the top of the hill that Kiyora looked distant. As if he was seeing her through the mist.


    "What are those things," asked Kiyora, voice oddly faint.


    "Raishans," said Rusara. "I didn''t know there were any areas they could enter this world through. Quickly, William, play your harp."


    "But-" began William.


    "Now!" snapped Rusara.


    William drew out his harp and watched the armies assembled into a defensive position. The Harlenorians were in the center, facing the brunt of the assault. To their left were the assembled satyrs, howling war cries and revving themselves into a fury. To their right were the troops raised from Artarq. And further up the hill were the Dust Elves and slingers, ready for war. But the shrieking monstrosities slithered after them. No sooner had the defense been prepared than the monsters were in arrow range. The twang of bows resounded through the valley. A rain of arrows killed many. Yet even as they fell, more took their place as the creatures rushed forward faster than any man could run.


    "Play the harp, William!" cried Rusara. "Now!"


    William obeyed. He strummed the strings, and as he did so, the front ranks of the raishans slowed and recoiled. They fled backward as more arrows flew into their ranks. Yet soon, they rallied and returned, only to break again. William played on, pouring the power of Elranor into his music. Some of the creatures fell, screaming to the ground.


    "They''re falling into disorder," said William.


    "These creatures hate the divine like a plague," said Rusara. "Keep playing until I tell you to stop, understand?"


    "Yes," said William.


    On and on, the creatures came as arrow after the arrow was launched into their midsts. The stones fell afterward in a rain of projectiles. When one died, it would shriek horribly and fall. Its body would melt into nothingness on the ground before its eyes. Yet why were there bodies of the creatures in the distance?


    More creatures broke out of the rock, and a second wave advanced. Something set its will against William, and he found his hands hurt. It was getting hard to keep playing. What was he doing here? All the music in the world was of no use against such hosts. He should take his sword and join the others in battle.


    No, that wasn''t right. His music was helping.


    The second wave arrived, and the raishans rushed to the front line. Yet before they could reach it, Raynald walked out ten feet ahead of the army. His sword was in his hand, and as the creatures drew near, his sword flashed in the sunlight. In mere moments, dozens of the animals fell into pieces around him, and more soon followed.


    For a moment, Raynald held back the tide, hacking them down around him with absolute ease. He fought in a godlike fashion, lunging and slashing, and raishans fell like wheat. Yet though not one raishan could get by him, they could go around him and soon reached the front lines. Thus, the battle was joined. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The spearmen had locked their shields and stabbed with their weapons, holding them at bay. Yet the tide came against the flanks. Soon, the swordsman and axemen were fighting in melee and not doing as well. William saw a man beheaded by a scythe, another wrapped up and crushed to death by the raishans tail.


    A full-on melee began. The flanks buckled as more and more of the monsters came onward. The soldiers of Artarq were stabbing and fighting in terror. Many were bowled over and torn apart, screaming before their friends. Yet others rushed to their aid with spears readied to thrust into the hearts of the creatures. The line was holding, and the Harlenorians had never been as pressured. The satyrs fought with glee and savagery. Yet such were their numbers that they defied comprehension. William realized that his hands were slowing and played harder.


    At the same time, Raynald moved to the front of the ranks, driving off the raishans singlehanded. It bought them precious time, and the men reformed. He saw Tanith cut the head from a raishan, parry a scythe with her shield, and cut another in half. Beside her, he could see Kusher lying about him with his axe, slaying many.


    Between the two of them, they compared to Raynald, who was always where the fighting was thickest. His blade slew unending tides of demons, and they shrieked in horror at his coming. Tanith became more and more relentless. She was killing demon after demon with a smile, and Kusher fought to keep pace and succeeded.


    Relg stood behind the battle, firing a bow. He launched arrow after arrow. With each shot, a raishan fell dead.


    Then Rusara snapped her fingers, and a high flame pillar rose. She did it again, and another pillar scattered the raishans. Then again. The tide was repulsed, yet it came back, again and again, no matter how it was defeated.


    He didn''t know how long he stood there, playing, but every inch was pained with the effort. There was a roar, and into the fray leaped Massacre. The beast poured flame into the ranks of the raishans. She tore them apart wherever they walked. Where had she been all this time? Her paws ripped raishans in half, while her lion head tore into the monsters.


    Wherever she went, the raishans died. It proved the last straw. The raishans could not pierce the ranks of Harlenor. Whenever they came too close, Raynald would come with his sword. Or Massacre with her claws. Or Rusara with her fire, and they would be repulsed.


    The tide slackened and fled. And left behind was a field of blood. Every inch of the barren ground was soaked with red. The retreating raishans grabbed the bodies of the fallen and dragged them with them. Their path led them back toward the rock in the distance. William felt like throwing up as he watched it.


    He looked down at his harp. He wondered why the strings had not broken or frayed when using them with a gauntlet. Then he fell to his knees in exhaustion. His every inch hurt. How long had he been channeling the power of the divine?


    He didn''t know, but he couldn''t afford to collapse.


    William looked at Felix and shook his head. "I''m going to go heal the injured."


    He stood up and descended the hill, nearly falling several times. In a daze, he began to search among the fallen for wounded. He healed who he could, but it seemed futile. So many had been injured or killed, and he knew he couldn''t treat them all. Casualties had been terrible among the men of Artarq, who had the least training. Their ranks had been thicker than the others, and many had been slain or wounded. The Harlenorians, armored and more experienced, faired the best. They had taken defensive positions and locked shields. Last of all, the satyrs had met fury with fury and lost many.


    He could try, however. He healed broken bones and ripped flesh despite a blurry vision. Eventually, when he could go on no longer, he collapsed to his knees. Vaguely, he saw Tanith approaching him, looking in the best mood he''d ever seen her. How did she always end up soaked in blood every time she went into battle?


    "William," she said, "did you fight?"


    "No," said William. "My harp, I... I played it to disrupt the raishans power. Rusara''s orders."


    "A shame," said Tanith. "It''s been great sport here. Look at that field out there! We must have killed at least ten thousand! Probably four or five times that, actually!" She paused. "Of course, Raynald killed the most, as usual. Something to work for, I guess."


    "Tanith," said William, "I''d love to talk about this, but I need to meet with Raynald."


    "You need to rest," said Felix. "You are at your limit."


    William realized he was right and sank to his knees. "Fine," said William, "I''ll rest for a bit."


    Raynald showed up on his own, congratulating various soldiers on their work. William could hear several cheers of victory, but it was all halfhearted. Relg walked among his men, doing the same. Kusher could be seen sitting upon a stone and staring into space. William began trying to estimate how many they had lost. There were at least a few thousand Artarqians and a couple hundred Haldrenians. The satyrs were already devouring their dead in some places, but he guessed about a thousand.


    The next battle would be lower. All those here were now soldiers and would be better prepared for next time.


    And then came the messenger. He rushed breathlessly up to Relg and fell to one knee. "Chieftain! Kynn is under siege! Strange monsters we have never seen even now assail our walls!"


    "Damn," said Relg. "We must have missed the horn calls in the chaos."


    "Ready yourselves, my warriors!" cried Kusher, standing tall. "We must aid our brethren!"


    "We can''t go anywhere until our men have had a chance to rest," said Relg. "We''re in no state to travel, let alone fight. Kynn once held for twenty years against a Calishan army. Gather the men and give them an hour''s rest. Then we move."


    "What about Krishiv?" asked William.


    "We''ll see to ourselves first," said Relg.


    "Relg is right," said Raynald. "A man must see to his allies first."


    "There is one other thing we must do," said Rusara, appearing with Massacre. "William, come with me. We have work to do, you and I. Tanith pick some men. You will accompany us into that meteor."


    ''Why?" asked Tanith. "We''ve already routed them."


    "There is a nest within that thing," said Rusara. "I am sure of it. And I do not want to have it at our backs."


    "I will go as well," said Kusher with an appearance of confidence. "My axe craves more blood."


    "As you wish," said Rusara.


    "Why are we going in there?" asked William.


    "To finish the beast," said Rusara. So, more demon slaying.

 Chapter 92 - Twenty: A Nest of Raishans

    The meteor loomed very high above them as they drew near it, rough to look at with many small depressions within it. It looked like a massive, cracked egg. It was taller than the tallest hills, creating a massive crater. They saw no sign of the raishans as they scaled down the crater toward the base of the meteor. The great stone had several large holes knocked in it, leading into a passage. Smoke was rising from the base, shrouding their surroundings.


    "Rusara, I don''t understand why you are taking me here," said William. "And why aren''t we bringing more than this with us?"


    "Raishans are not a monster that can be killed with just a blade," said Rusara. "What we have here should be enough to deal with the physical side of things. I hope."


    "I must have killed five," said Tanith. "I think it was five, right William?"


    William blinked. "I think you slew more than that."


    "Right, I sort of don''t remember when I go berserk," said Tanith. "It''s a happy blur.


    "I''m nowhere near Raynald, though."


    "Hardly impressive," said Kusher, sounding slightly out of it. "A true warrior could kill ten."


    "Why, have you seen one?" asked Tanith with a smirk.


    "You dare mock me, human?" snarled Kusher.


    "More or less," said Tanith, putting a hand to her duel swords.


    "Why you-" began Kusher, bristling at the barb.


    "Both of you quiet!" snapped Rusara. "We have more pressing affairs!"


    They fell silent. Rusara stopped and looked at them with a severe look. "Tanith, Kusher, it is true that you killed many of their physical forms. Yet they will soon be back. They are monsters formed from the tormented souls of sinners. Those deemed unworthy of becoming demons. When they are killed, they do not disappear into the afterlife. Instead, they merely return to the nearest hatchery to be reborn again as monsters.


    "Only one with a divine connection can release these spirits from torment. It is for this reason that I have brought William. His music can destroy them on a more permanent basis."


    "Have you fought these things before, Lady Rusara?" asked Felix.


    "No. I''ve never seen one before today," admitted Rusara. "However, I have read about them in the ancient histories of my people. Enough to know that if this invasion is not checked, it could mean disaster for the entire world. Now, quiet, we have work to do.


    "Tanith, you are the rearguard. Massacre, keep William and Felix safe. I will take the front. Now follow me."


    Then she strode toward the openings created by the raishans. Within, they found a long, smooth tunnel leading steadily into the meteor. William muttered an incantation, summoning a golden light to float above his head. Rusara mirrored the movement and created one, both smaller and far brighter. As they went further in, he smelled something. It was a heavy, fleshy smell in the air, and distantly, one could hear a primal hissing. The ground here was slippery and wet. Strange liquids were dripping from the ceiling.


    William had a vague sense of horror and also felt hatred. Something within this place wanted them out. But he wasn''t precisely shaking. However, Tanith and Kusher, and their warriors looked disturbed. He didn''t understand why.


    "William, this place..." said Tanith.


    "What is it?" asked William.


    "Doesn''t it seem wrong to you?" asked Tanith. "Like it shouldn''t be here."


    "Maybe," said William.


    "How can you be so calm?" asked Tanith.


    "I''ve been close to Laughing Wraith," said William. "These things pale in comparison to him-"


    Suddenly, there was a blur. Something came at William, who stepped aside as a scythed blade went for his throat. It scraped off his armor, and Tanith''s sword went through the beast''s head. It reeled, but she drew out her blade and cut it in half. William looked up and realized it had come down from above.


    "Are you alright?" asked Tanith.


    "Yes," said William. "This thing came at us from above. We should keep our eyes peeled for more gaps like that."


    "Where has Kiyora got to anyway?" asked Felix.


    "In the books, it is said that when there are many raishans in a given place, they emit a field," said Rusara. "It naturally prevents gods from directly manifesting or making their will known."


    "So Kiyora can''t help us?" said William.


    "I''m afraid not," said Rusara.


    "We need no gods to aid us!" said Kusher. "Steel and muscle is a great guide than any paltry deity!" He sounded like he was putting on a front.


    "No one-" began Tanith.


    "Step back!" said Rusara. "Get back all of you!"


    They stopped, and William looked ahead. On the ground ahead of them, there appeared to be a great many vines growing all along the passage. The vines crisscrossed and seemed to be slithering on the ground somehow.


    "What are those things?" asked William.


    "Tendrils, I have read about them," said Rusara. "Raishans grow such things as defenses within their nests. I doubt they are immune to fire, however." And she snapped her fingers.


    There was a burst of flame and the screaming of the damned as the tendrils were utterly consumed. The fire spread upwards along the passage. Gradually, the fire went beyond their reach, and all that was left were ashes.


    "That worked well," said Tanith.


    Then, there were infernal screams from up the passage. They drew their weapons, and around the corner came raishans in great numbers. William knocked aside a scythe blade and stabbed a raishan through the chest. The beast slammed him with its tail, sending him falling back, and it went after him. It pinned him and tore at his armor. Then Kusher struck the beast across the face with his axe, splitting its skull.


    William pulled himself up. The warriors formed a knot and fought against the swarms of raishans. A burst of flame consumed many of the creatures, but two satyrs were cut to bits and overwhelmed. One of the Harlenorians was born down and crushed to death.


    Kusher and Tanith ended up fighting back to back. Together, they cut down the beasts wherever they found them. Six more fell within moments, yet William saw even more raishans approaching them. There were too many of them, he realized. Tanith''s blades almost sang as she cleaved them down.


    Then he saw the raishan which Kusher had struck, getting up again. All throughout the combat, the raishans were healed by some unholy will. William knew right then and there that unless he acted, all was lost.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Unfortunately, something seemed to realize that as well. Even as he drew up his harp, the monsters rushed at him. He played it as quickly as he could while backing away from them. Yet this time, he found he hit some kind of wall head-on. He felt a presence, unbearable hunger, insatiable bloodthirst, and unfathomable malice. It felt familiar, almost comforting.


    His thoughts no longer seemed entirely his own.


    Panicked, he poured his whole power into the harp as in Kiyora''s world. A light shield appeared around him, expanding outwards to burn the raishans. The creatures screeched, only for that same will to set itself against William.


    It hurt just to feel it. William saw images of rivers of blood. He saw screaming faces and uncountable civilizations destroyed. He also saw raishans. It was all he could do not to look away. But he knew he had to keep going. So he continued to play, and the raishans were destroyed or fled.


    "Rusara," said William, "we are drawing near something horrible. Should we go back?"


    "No," said Rusara. "We are nearly finished. Come."


    They climbed up the passage and wandered through the inside of the meteor. There were many rooms in this place. Some were gigantic, some so small that they had to walk single files. Every so often, they would see more tendrils, but Rusara always burned these apart. William kept his harp in hand, but his head ached, and his legs shook.


    He was tired. So tired.


    Finally, they came to a halt in a room filled with the scent of death. William fell to one knee and rested as best as the others. Within this round room were corpses. Piles upon piles of corpses, still wearing their armor. Yet they were strange. The color had gone out of their faces, and they looked stretched and bloated. Then William saw a hand gradually merging onto another corpse''s face.


    This time, he did throw up.


    "I know this man," said Tanith. "I saw him die in the battle."


    "And I have seen many of these warriors in the mustering field," said Kusher, voice disturbed.


    "The raishans drag the corpses of the slain back with them," said Rusara. "If they are not stopped, the souls of those killed here will be twisted into more raishans. William, play your harp."


    "I hate doing this," said Willliam as he obeyed.


    "What is so hard about it?" scoffed Kusher. "You don''t even fight."


    "How would you like to put your mind in contact with the thing which is doing all this?" asked William in disgust. "Playing the harp normally is fine. But when I use it to fight against dark magic, that dark magic fights back. I get a sense of my enemy''s mind."


    "What do you sense from the demon''s mind?" asked Rusara, sounding curious.


    "Hunger and hatred," said William. "And something else, just below the surface."


    He played his harp. He forced himself to go on. Around him, he felt that presence again, bearing down on him with formless evil. For a moment, it pressed against him; then, he pushed it back. Around him, the bodies began to burst and break down as the evil was driven out of them. Blood poured from them, soaking the ground. Soon, the bodies were all gone.


    Yet there was still a power in this place. Whatever had possessed this area seeped into the very walls. William knew he must drive it out to defeat these creatures permanently. So he played more and more and matched his will against it.


    As he did so, he felt the monster could have crushed him like a gnat if it weren''t so utterly stupid. It operates on very basic impulses. Laughing Wraith had been somewhat similar, but a feral intellect existed. William felt that Laughing Wraith could have talked and reasoned if it wanted. It merely regarded such things with contempt.


    This thing was little more than an animal. An animal imbued with infernal powers. It couldn''t use the raw power it possessed for anything. And despite how dangerous it was on the physical plane, it had no real willpower.


    Unfortunately, even animals did not want to die. As William began to burn it away, there were distant shrieks from many other passages leading out. The others drew their weapons.


    "What was that?" asked Kusher.


    "They are coming to stop us," said William in a tired tone.


    Thus began yet another battle with the raishans. There were more of them than before. However, William didn''t have the mental energy to concern himself with them. He played and played and beat back the creature inch by inch. It fought back desperately, tearing at his mind. But having no understanding of how his mind worked, it could do little but disgust him.


    Things on the physical plane could have been better. Kusher was swearing as he hacked the beasts down around him. "Where has that Calishan got to? Damn him!"


    "Here," said Felix.


    Of a shadow emerged Felix, sword in hand. He sliced the head from a raishan, retreated into the shadows, and emerged elsewhere. Driving the blade into a raishan from behind, he did the same thing repeatedly.


    At last, the physical battle was over. The monster was now struggling far more weakly. William felt that if it could speak, it would be begging for mercy.


    "How do you do that shadow trick?" asked Tanith.


    "It is something I picked up from an ancestor," said Felix. "I can sort of meld with the shadows. I''ve been working on learning to jump between them. Lady Rusara helped me perfect it."


    "Well, it certainly is useful," said Tanith.


    And she ruffled his hair. William would have found it endearing, but he was in no mood. He might have felt pity for the monster, which certainly had not chosen to be born as it was. But he was in no mood. For all intents and purposes, he was completely done with cosmic horrors.


    "Both of you be quiet," said William. "I''m trying to break the spell." He sent a mental blow against the monster. It let out a nonverbal scream, and he killed it. He dealt it several more such blows for good measure. "There. It is done."


    "Excellent," said Rusara. "We must leave this place at once. When raishans lose many of their kind, they often attract more from neighboring areas."


    "What of the bodies of our fallen brethren?" asked Kusher.


    "We will burn them," said Rusara. "I''m sorry, but we cannot take them all with us."


    "So be it," said Kusher, and he probably meant to sound grave. He merely sounded tired, however.


    Rusara burned each of the bodies to ashes with her fire. They watched as each one was consumed. Then, they backtracked and did the same to the next group. Tanith looked forlorn. "They deserved a better burial than this."


    "What you see is only the flesh," said Kusher. "The spirit will have a far grander reception at the Table of Elranor."


    "I hope so," said Tanith.


    "You, human in the skull armor," said Kusher.


    "My name is William Gabriel. I am the son of Duke Vanion Gabriel. I am a Paladin of Elranor," said William, more than a little irritated. "Kindly refer to me by something other than my race."


    "Whatever you say," said Kusher. "Your armor makes you appear formidable, and you have some nerve. Why do you use so feeble an instrument as a harp to focus your power?"


    Rusara looked offended at this statement but said nothing. She instead focused on painting a protective rune on a soldier''s armor.


    "I learned to play the harp when I was little," said William. "I found this harp in a chimera lair, and playing it saved my life. Rusara tells me it is a powerful relic of the wars between elves and humans. It was created by Alchara herself, lost with the fall of the ancient elven kingdoms. It magnifies the power of the wielder by an immense level.


    "When I channel the will of Elranor through it, there is a great power."


    "Yet it isn''t you gaining the victory?" asked Kusher.


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "You are wielding the power of a god and channeling it through an artifact you stole by chance," said Kusher. "Can you really say that you are destroying the raishans?"


    "Of course not," said William. "I am merely the instrument of Elranor''s will."


    "You say that with such pride," said Kusher. "Kreshlak desires his warriors to be independent, to think for themselves. To fight for their own desires and, in so doing, bring greater glory to him. Only by standing on one''s own feet can one truly become great.


    "An unearned victory is no victory at all."


    "Unearned?" asked William. "I got thrown in a dungeon, tempted by a demon, starved, thirsted, fought, and fled for my life to get this harp! And I only wield the power of Elranor because he willingly bestowed it upon me!


    "I don''t see that you''ve done anything like that."


    "Yes, those things are to your credit," said Kusher. "You have earned some glory. If you had been given these powers as a birthright and inherited the harp, I would hold you in contempt. But let me ask you this;


    "How would you fare if you wielded an ordinary harp against these raishans? Can you break their spells, then? Would you even be able to stand their presence?"


    "I don''t know," admitted William.


    "Good answer," said Kusher. "I believe that the use of that harp is holding you back. Tell me, have you ever heard of the Hammer of Kreshlak?"


    "It is a legendary weapon that gives one power over water," said William. "It is sealed away in Viokinar, and only a warrior after Kreshlak''s own heart may wield it. I believe it was forged to fight giants. Fortenex has a weapon of his own, an axe that is equal and opposite. Doesn''t it draw its power from blood?"


    "You know more than most," noted Kusher.


    "Rusara taught me much," said William.


    "Notice that both Kreshlak and Fortenex sealed their weapons away, though," said Kusher. "This is because both gods knew that the weapon would become a crutch to an unworthy wielder. They would gain small victories with it, but without the axe, they would fail. It would inspire weakness instead of rewarding strength."


    "I see what you are saying, Kusher," said William. "You think that my control over my powers will weaken if I continue to use the harp? But I can''t do that right now. Look around us. Look what we are facing.


    "I can''t afford to use the harp right now. If I don''t, thousands could die. And I can''t give it to someone else, not if I want ever to see the harp again." He sighed. "I''ll probably put the harp away after we''re done here. For now, I''m just glad we''ve won."


    "The battle, perhaps," said Rusara. "But not the war."


    "What do you mean?" asked Tanith.


    "I counted half a dozen meteors coursing across the sky," said Rusara. "One of them is across the canyon; we''ll have to deal with that before we move out. As for the others, they will have to be dealt with as well. And then there is the matter of the meteors which fell to earth before. And the meteors that might fall to earth in the future.


    "And the raishans may well make new nests."


    "...Oh damn," said William. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "That was my reaction as well," said Rusara.


    This was going to be a long campaign.

 Chapter 93 - Twenty-one: An Unwanted Arrangement

    Kiyora opened her eyes. Please wait a minute; she always remembered waking up when she did. There was a flash, and she sat up in bed. This time, nothing of the sort happened. The world around her had merely faded, and she''d found herself staring at the ceiling.


    She hoped William could handle those xenomorph things that had poured out of the meteor. It was like something out of an old sci-fi movie. Why was she so detached from all this? She knew for a fact by all the events that had taken place that her dreams were portals into the real world. Yet it seemed unreal, though.


    She wasn''t alone. When she got downstairs, she noticed that Mom looked in much brighter spirits. She was cooking breakfast, her hair tied behind her head. "Good morning, Kiyora," she said.


    "Morning, Mom," said Kiyora, feeling even weirder. "What''s for breakfast?"


    "Bacon and eggs," said Mom. "And onions, too; I mixed some in."


    "Can I just have the bacon?" asked Kiyora.


    Mom smiled. "Sorry, no. Eat the whole plate. It''s part of a balanced breakfast."


    "Balance is overrated," said Kiyora.


    Later, as they sat down and began to eat, Kiyora looked up at Dad, who was reading his newspaper. He, too, put everything that happened behind him, which was weird. Didn''t he just say before that nothing was the same?


    Apparently not.


    "You know, I am not looking forward to redoing all the days of school I missed," said Kiyora. She forked some eggs into her mouth.


    "I don''t think anyone is," said Mom. "My whole schedule got messed up as well, you know."


    "Still, at the very least, this affair has given me all kinds of new painting ideas," said Dad. "I feel a darker tinge here or there can add some life to things.


    "Is that all you ever think about, Dad?" asked Kiyora with a smile. Why was she smiling? She was talking about an eldritch abomination from her darkest nightmares. It was a monster who had possessed one of her friends and manifested directly in her world.


    "I express myself and life through my artwork," said Dad. "I may draw on my dreams, but new experiences help me grow. It makes me more open-minded and more able to comprehend what I see in those dreams. My paintings have been a bit darker; lately, it''s true. But that isn''t a bad thing.


    "Never stop learning, Kiyora. That''s the key to happiness."


    "Wow, Dad, that''s deep," said Kiyora, only half sarcastic.


    "Less talking, more eating," said Mom. "You''ll be late if you''re not careful."


    "Right, right," said Kiyora.


    She finished quickly, dressed in her school uniform, and began walking to school. As she did, she met Reya at the crosswalk. The girl was looking down at her feet.


    "Reya, are you okay?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yeah, I just... I''m starting to forget what it was like to have him in my mind, Kiyora," said Reya. "But it''s taking a while." She didn''t need to say who ''he'' was. Everyone in the city knew.


    "You''re starting to forget?" asked Kiyora. "Everyone is. It all seems like more of a bad dream than anything else."


    "Do you think maybe Emperor Ictargo is making us forget?" asked Reya.


    "I don''t know," said Kiyora. "I''ll probably credit him for making sure nobody died. How the hell did he manage that?"


    "Well, um," Reya paused. "I was talking with Laurus last night. He seemed to think that Wraith had only tenuous control over people. He says that he was planning to give people several doses of medicine. But something interfered and forced him to speed up his plans.


    "So he couldn''t get people to do anything murderous. And actually, Laurus was holding him back. Preventing him from acting evil."


    "You know it could be a lot worse," said Kiyora. "In my dreams, I''ve read about a demon that was even worse than Laughing Wraith?"


    "Worse?" asked Reya with a shudder. "How could anything be worse?"


    "I''m not sure; I''ve never met him," said Kiyora. "But his name was Melchious, and supposedly, he''s the one who created Laughing Wraith in the first place."


    "You don''t think he''ll show up here, do you?" asked Reya.


    "Nah, don''t worry, he''s dead," said Kiyora. "He looked into a magic mirror and killed himself or something. I don''t know; I wasn''t paying attention. Even if he was alive, I''m sure he has better things to do than attack this backwater."


    "This is the capital of the Dreamer Empire," said Reya. "It is both a cultural center and a center of trade. It isn''t a backwater, Kiyora."


    "I know," said Kiyora. "That was a joke."


    "I don''t see how any of this is supposed to cheer me up," said Reya.


    "I''m making conversation, I guess," said Kiyora.


    Come to think of it, hanging out with William and company had given her a morbid sense of humor. They thought differently from her, and Kiyora was beginning to think it was rubbing off on her. She didn''t believe that was good and decided to change the subject.


    They came within sight of the school, and it looked as though it had never been wrecked in the first place. Actovosh had taken the opportunity to put in some much-needed improvements. A new wing was on one side of the school, and Kiyora wondered what it was for.


    "Wow, the school looks a lot better now, doesn''t it?" she asked.


    "Actovosh has been working hard," said Reya. "I thought it would take months to replace. Most of the damage was to the windows and doors and school supplies. The main building was fine, so all they had to do was replace the windows and stuff.


    "But Actovosh added a new gymnasium."


    "Seriously?" asked Kiyora. "He isn''t usually this awake."


    "I guess the whole mass possession thing woke him up a bit," said Reya. Then she looked at her thoughtfully. "Kiyora?"


    ''Yeah?" asked Kiyora.


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    "What were you and Laurus doing in that factory?" asked Reya.


    "Well, you know, saving the city takes you to strange places," said Kiyora.


    "I was serious, Kiyora," said Reya.


    "So was I," said Kiyora, refusing to lie.


    Reya looked at her for a moment, then dropped the subject. They made their way through the halls and into their classroom. It had been completely rebuilt, and Kiyora found the lockers looked weird. They were different, and it put her off.


    As she put in her bag, someone hugged her.


    "Hey, Kiyora!" said Gisora. "Long time, no see!"


    "Hey, Gisora, how is it going?" asked Kiyora.


    "Great," said Gisora, breaking the embrace. "Can I talk to you to one side?"


    "Sure," said Kiyora.


    They went to the corner, and Gisora hesitated momentarily before going on. "Okay, so I asked my mom for information. She doesn''t know the specifics, but she can tell me that someone has come to the attention of the Royal Family. Supposedly, they found a family member with unheard-of magical levels in their blood. There are all kinds of rumors going on around them."


    "Why hasn''t anyone heard them here?" asked Kiyora. Then again, if there were rumors, she wouldn''t have heard them. Not while she was unconscious, anyway.


    "I mean in the Royal Court," said Gisora. "It''s is pretty insulated, so it takes a while for these things to get out into the streets. Oh, and another thing I remembered. Emperor Ictargo has decided on who is going to fill that vacancy."


    "What vacancy?" asked Kiyora.


    "You know, um, they were planning to find a fifth girl for Prince Tenius?'' asked Gisora.


    "Oh right, that guy," said Kiyora, uninterested. "Who is it?"


    "I don''t know," admitted Gisora. "They haven''t announced anything yet, but at the same time, they aren''t asking any more questions. This means they are either analyzing the data or have already decided."


    "Great," said Kiyora, not interested. "Let''s talk about it later."


    School passed in a breeze. Soon Kiyora and the others were sitting down for their first club meeting. It seemed like forever since they had last sat around this table. Though technically, the table had been replaced. Gisora seemed very enthusiastic about it as well. "Okay, at long last, the Fantasy Club has been rejoined! So, um, what were we discussing last time?"


    "I think it was something about an eldritch abomination in humanoid form," said Reya. "Wasn''t he being fought by a knight in shining armor?"


    "Can we talk about something else?" asked Laurus.


    Kiyora considered what had recently happened in her dreams. "How about a horde of alien xenomorphs."


    "That has been done to death, hasn''t it?" asked Laurus.


    "In a fantasy setting," said Kiyora.


    Laurus gave her a look. "So you mean knights in shining armor fighting monstrous acid-spewing aliens? I like it."


    "But what do the aliens want?" asked Reya.


    "To eat everything, I guess," said Kiyora.


    "Okay, so what is the plot?" asked Reya.


    "Stopping the aliens," said Kiyora.


    "That doesn''t work, Kiyora," said Gisora. "''You can''t have a main villain whose only goal is to devour everything. The story would be many pointless action scenes strung together by an excuse plot.


    "Or a subpar horror movie."


    "Okay, Laurus, you''re our villain expert," said Kiyora. "What do you think we should do?"


    Laurus considered it. "...The way I see it, we have two options. Either the aliens could have an agenda beyond merely devouring everything. Or the aliens could be used by another party to achieve their ends."


    "Okay, so who is this other party?" asked Kiyora.


    "Give me a minute to think," said Laurus.


    "Well, the question we should ask ourselves is who would gain from all this?" said Gisora.


    "A demon, maybe?" said Kiyora.


    "Someone on that level of morality, sure," said Laurus. "But very few agendas wouldn''t be foiled by everything in the world being devoured."


    "So the person who brought the aliens to this world doesn''t care what happens to it." guessed Gisora. "Or they don''t want them to win."


    "A distraction?" guessed Kiyora.


    "That might be it," mused Gisora. "But if it were a distraction, they''d have to have some means of making sure things didn''t get out of hand."


    "Things could get out of hand," said Laurus. "That could be a story in itself."


    "Maybe we could use my other character," said Laurus.


    "You mean the one we came up with before?" said Gisora. "That might work. Okay, this monster thing is luring huge numbers of aliens to the setting so he can achieve something. They want everyone distracted. But what?"


    "To get something which is too heavily guarded in ordinary circumstances," suggested Laurus.


    "Right, that gives him some limits," mused Gisora. "Maybe he''s after a magic sword!"


    "An unholy sword which was taken from him long ago and sealed away by satyrs," said Kiyora. "It could contain much of his power; without it, he cannot act directly."


    "Okay, so the heroes beat the alien xenomorphs-" said Gisora.


    "No, they stop the alien xenomorphs," said Laurus. "We want them to be a threat still so we can bring them in later. Reya, are you writing this down?"


    Reya looked up from where she was writing. "Sure, but shouldn''t we talk about the details? Like what kind of society are we talking about? I''m guessing feudal, but who is the King? Does the King have most of the power, or are his nobles the real power? Does the army consist of professional soldiers or drafted peasants? Or hired mercenaries?


    "You have to think about these things when developing a story."


    "Let''s say drafted peasants with a warrior elite leading the charge," said Laurus.


    "Okay, so what do the peasants think of their overlords?" asked Reya.


    "Why does that matter?" asked Laurus. "It''s not like they will come into the story much."


    "They might," said Reya. "And we need to know about them if they do."


    "They don''t like them much," said Laurus. "But simultaneously, they can''t imagine a world without them."


    "I think we should have the King be benevolent," said Kiyora. "But ruthless, too."


    It felt good to be back coming up with ideas for stories again. When she talked like this with her friends, Kiyora could distract herself. She thought for a moment that the dreams she had were just that. Dreams. As time ticked by, the events she saw while asleep seemed more and more distant.


    Of course, that was suspicious in itself.


    When Kiyora got home that day, she saw a strange car outside. It had the symbol of their world, a tree branching outwards with many plateaus upon it. Each one had a different land upon it. It was the symbol of the Dreamer Empire.


    Kiyora made her way up to the house and knocked. After a moment, the door opened, and Mom looked out. "Mom, what''s with the car?" sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Kiyora," said Mom, "there is a representative of the Royal Family here to speak with you. "Kiyora felt her blood run cold at that. "What about?"


    "She''ll explain," said Mom.


    Mom led her into the living room. There within it was a wonderful woman whose hair was dyed violet. She was dressed in flowing green robes. She stood up from her seat with all-encompassing benevolence. It struck Kiyora as a bit phony.


    Then again, calling people phonies based on their appearances was the sort of thing jerks did. Kiyora couldn''t imagine wanting to read a book about someone like that. So, she resolved not to jump to any conclusions.


    "Ah, and here she is, my darling granddaughter!" said the woman.


    "Granddaughter?" said Kiyora. So this woman was her grandmother?


    "Hasn''t Mayora told you about me?" asked the woman. "Your grandmother, Hanora Dreamer?"


    "I have not told her about her heritage until recently," said Mom. "I didn''t think it was important."


    There was an edge in her tone, and Kiyora expected a harsh or hurt response.


    She was surprised at how easily the woman took it. "Well, that makes today all the more special, doesn''t it?" asked the woman. "It isn''t every day that one finds out one is part of the Dreamer Royal Family with the grand destiny that entails."


    "What destiny?" asked Kiyora, moving into the room.


    ''You should sit down." said the woman. "Mayora, could you get us some more tea? I''d like to speak with her alone?"


    Mom said nothing and just stood there. The benevolence gave way for a moment as the woman looked at Mom. "Now, Mayora, don''t keep us waiting."


    Yeah, she was a phony.


    "Of course, Mother," said Mom.


    And she left. Kiyora sat down, liking Hanora less but not wanting to be rude. Now that they were alone, Hanora took a moment to look at the paintings on the walls. The ones Dad had made. "These paintings are truly beautiful, you know. I never agreed with her choice, but she could have done far worse."


    "You wanted to talk with me?" said Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Hanora. "We are aware of what you''ve done, Kiyora. You averted what could have been a truly catastrophic fiasco. And the royal family is very grateful. The Department of Bloodlines has more good news. They tell us that your connection to the spirit world is strong. Stronger than any other girl of this generation.


    "Alchara has blessed you."


    "Mmmhmm," said Kiyora, wanting to speed things along. "Well, that is nice to know."


    "There is something else," said Hanora. "The Department of Bloodlines has arranged a good match for you. You are to be betrothed to Prince Tenius Dreamer."


    Kiyora stared at her. "I''m sorry, what?!"


    "It''s all been arranged already," said Hanora. "You''ll be able to drop out of school and live in his mansion. It''s a splendid little place in the countryside made from the roots of one of our most powerful strains of trees."


    "I don''t want to drop out of school," said Kiyora.


    "Why ever not?" asked Hanora in surprise.


    "Because people who don''t finish school are-" Kiyora paused. Why did she have to explain this to an adult? "I want to have a future. Have a career, and I can''t do that if I don''t finish school."


    "Oh, but you will have a future," said Hanora. "Prince Tenius has some of the best blood in the entire royal family. Combined with your own, your children will be compelling."


    "That wasn''t what I meant by future," said Kiyora, amazed at how out of touch this woman was.


    "Well, what other future is there but our children?" asked Hanora.


    "Well," Kiyora considered the question, "there is the legacy we leave behind. Our good and bad deeds and our effect on the world around us. And anyway, I don''t want to leave my school friends."


    Hanora looked at her strangely. She needed help with the concept that Kiyora might not be interested in. "I''m sure you can keep in touch with them if you want to," said Hanora. "And you''ll make plenty of friends with the other wives."


    "I''m not doing it," said Kiyora flatly.


    "But you must," said Hanora. "Emperor Ictargo himself approved the engagement."


    At those words, Kiyora felt something. A soothing voice deep inside her told her to give in. Just go with the flow. Why not marry Tenius? He was only ten years older than her and might be nice. This could be a nice new beginning...


    Wait, that didn''t sound like her at all. She shoved the voice aside. She had the feeling she was being manipulated, and she didn''t like it. "Emperor Ictargo can get out of my life," snapped Kiyora. "I''m my person! I''m not breeding stock!"


    "I didn''t mean to upset you-" began Hanora.


    "Well, you succeeded!" snapped Kiyora.


    At that moment, she wished more than anything to be anywhere but here. And she got her wish. She disappeared in a flash. And it was a dream.

 Chapter 94 - Twenty-two: Argument in Heaven

    It was that same field of flowers. But this time, Kiyora was pissed. She didn''t know how she had gotten here by will alone, but she had the feeling she didn''t know her strength. Around her, the flowers withered and died. The grass began to grow longer and longer. It had become a tangle of weeds while thorns grew around them.


    Then Alchara appeared. Inelvishly beautiful as always, she descended. She set foot, and the field started to return to normal. But Kiyora halted it with one upraised hand. She refused the sense of inner peace and acceptance offered by Alchara and looked at her.


    Alchara stopped. "Well, we have a problem, don''t we?"


    "Understatement of the century much?" asked Kiyora. "I''m not doing it."


    "Kiyora, why do you deny me?" Her voice was pleading, as a mother begging her daughter to be reasonable. As she spoke, Kiyora felt the urge to accept that she knew best.


    Kiyora shrugged it off as best she could. But it was hard to argue with Alchara. "Why?" she asked, remembering her anger. "I don''t know, maybe because I don''t want to marry some guy I''ve never met who already has four wives! Ever think about that?"


    Alchara sighed with infinite understanding. She did understand, didn''t she? No doubt, she knew best. "It is necessary. Your bloodline has qualities that must be passed on. Combined with Tenius-"


    "I heard it all before, and I don''t care," said Kiyora. "This isn''t right!" Why did she feel like she was in the wrong? She wasn''t! Was she?


    "...Mayora was just like you," said Alchara. "I don''t understand why you are so opposed to this. After all, the marriage is very good, and you need to get married at some point."


    "I''ll judge that-" Kiyora paused as what she''d just said checked in. "Wait, Mayora? What does Mom have to do with this?"


    Alchara moved forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "Mayora was originally betrothed to Prince Tenius. She was even more reluctant to marry him than you."


    "I don''t blame her!" said Kiyora. "He''s like forty years younger than her!"


    "The marriage would have taken place after he came of age," said Alchara quickly. "And forty years is ultimately not that much of a gap." She was right, wasn''t she? Wait, no, she wasn''t!


    "For some people, it''s half a lifetime," said Kiyora, feeling ashamed.


    Alchara turned away and walked a little bit away as though thinking. "He really is very nice. Quite kind. Listen to me, Kiyora. I understand you have your own beliefs. But when you meet Tenius, you''ll find he is wonderful. I promise you you''ll grow to love him."


    "Meaning you''ll screw with my head to make me love him." snapped Kiyora. It sounded weak, even to her. No, it didn''t; Alchara made her feel that way.


    "That isn''t what I meant," said Alchara, sounding hurt that she would even consider it. "I''d never do anything like that. But I can see things you don''t, and I know he is an excellent match."


    Kiyora wanted to change the subject. "Why do you care so damn much about this stupid eugenics program anyway?"


    Alchara looked very distant suddenly. "A long time ago, the elves were the dominant species in the universe. Then came Elranor. I know that your human friends have told you good things about him. They make him seem like a hero, but he is a villain. He sewed dissent and formed alliances with vile creatures. Because of him, many wonderful things were forced to hide and disappear from the world. The dragons were driven to the verge of extinction, and that was the least of it.


    "There used to be such beautiful cities throughout the world. They possessed such a wondrous majesty that no mortal could look at them without tears. The forests were bountiful, and the elves tended them with care and devotion. All the creatures of the forest were welcome.


    "Anoa the Butcher changed all that. He destroyed the elven kingdoms in his world. He razed them to the ground and killed all he found, forcing them onto reservations. And his wrath spread to other worlds. My worshippers were driven to the edge of oblivion.


    "When you talk with Elranor, he puts on a front of being this benevolent lord. But he is a ruthless pragmatist who refuses to tolerate anyone who can oppose him."


    That was horrible. And what was more, Kiyora had seen evidence that Elranor''s people always acted like that. She remembered Tanith and all the awful things she''d bragged about. But what did it have to do with her? "How does that answer my question?"


    "It is because of Elranor that the Dreamer Elves exist," said Alchara. "Ordinary elves have a natural attunement to the spirits world, but I created your race to be far stronger. Your connection to the spirit realm is so powerful that it can warp the borders of reality. You can travel to other worlds." Suddenly, she was in front of her and put a hand on Kiyora''s chin, meeting her eyes with her own. "You are one of the most powerful dreamers ever to be born. In time, you could grow to be comparable to Ictargo. And Tenius has even more potential than you."


    Kiyora took great offense to that remark. Tenius hadn''t done anything to her knowledge. "Oh? How many Laughing Wraith''s has Tenius killed?"


    Alchara looked up at the sky. "Tenius has a lot of potential, but he has no ambition. He isn''t emotionally suitable to be a great leader, and he''s easily swayed. However, his bloodline is very powerful. Mixed with yours, can you imagine how powerful your children could be?"


    Her children? Yes, that was the purpose of marriage: to have children. Kiyora shook the thoughts off. She wasn''t getting married. "I don''t care. Now answer the damn question."


    Alchara sighed again. "I want to create a generation of dreamer elves more powerful than any to come before it. Imagine a universe with hundreds, even thousands, of dreamers like yourself. All of them are minor gods in their domains. Think of the good they could do. The Dreamer Empire could expand by thousands of worlds! Elves could be united again!


    "You marrying Tenius is one of the steps to that goal. I know you don''t like this, Kiyora. But I need you to trust me when I tell you this is the right thing to do. Believe me; you''ll be happy."


    Kiyora felt her will weakening. The thorns and thistles were giving way to natural grass. A life of peace and happiness awaited her; she needed only to give in. "How could you possibly know that?"


    "Greater gods exist detached from your linear progression of time," said Alchara. "I shaped you when you were in your mother''s womb. I was there for your first steps, and I know you better than anyone. Even better than Mayora.


    "Tenius has powers similar to your own. But he needs more focus. You can give him that. With your abilities, you could draw him into the same dreams. Think about the good you could do there with two deities instead of one.


    "I promise you, you and Tenius were meant to be together."


    That brought up memories of earlier in this conversation, and Kiyora felt sick. All of a sudden, the spell was weakened. "So was my Mom and Tenius, according to you."


    That broke the spell. "Well, yes," said Alchara, showing irritation, "it is against the rules to interfere with free will. Even if it weren''t, I wouldn''t do it. You have to understand that for people to make the right choice, there has to be a wrong choice. Mayora did something very selfish, and my plans were put back by years.


    "But you can correct that mistake."


    "Oh, so I''m a mistake now!" Kiyora was petty, but she didn''t care. It helped motivate her.


    "Why are you twisting my words?" asked Alchara.


    Yes, why was she so resentful of this arrangement? She had had ample warning of it happening ahead of time. Kiyora looked deep within herself. She thought of the time she''d spent with a certain blonde-haired paladin. More specifically, what they had done together, that was why.


    "Because I saved the whole capital, and you are repaying me by making me throw my whole life away!" she roared. "Well, screw you! I''m not marrying Tenius! And that is final!"


    With those words, Alchara recoiled. The plant life around them withered, and flames surrounded them, scorching the earth. They consumed everything as great pillars of rock appeared around them. The goddess stepped back as Kiyora met her gaze.


    "You pretend like you''re some kind of benevolent mother goddess. But you''re not," snapped Kiyora. "You''ve been screwing with my head this whole time! If you really cared what I thought, you''d have just come down here and talked to me without trying to manipulate me!


    "But no, you''d have to be less condescending to do that, wouldn''t you!"


    "There is no condescension," said Alchara. "That is merely you projecting."


    "Like hell!" snapped Kiyora. "Every word out of your mouth is condescending! You think you''re better than me! Better than everyone else! Well, you aren''t! You talk about my human friends like they are somehow less elven than I am! Well, they aren''t either!"


    "You couldn''t hope to understand what I must contend with," said Alchara. "I watch over all elves across the entire universe. And more. This is nothing more than a petty tantrum-"


    "Oh, you don''t get to play the god card!" roared Kiyora. "I''m a goddess too! A goddess of dwarves, and I treat them with respect! I mean, I''m not perfect, I can be a little upfront, but all I want to do is help them! I don''t care who they marry because it isn''t my business. I''m here to help them! Not fulfill some agenda!


    "What have you done that''s helpful?"


    "I created your species," said Alchara. "I planted the tree upon whose branches their world rests. Actovosh was sent to aid you against Wraith by my command. And my servant Ictargo rescued you and your friends from Wraith when he attacked your school. There are many other times I could cite had I an eternity to do so.


    "I have guided elves from their first steps from the beginning of the first elf''s life. I have been there every moment of every elf from birth to death. My ministry makes the rituals of those Nakmar appear as little more than a child''s fantasy.


    "You are a thousand years too young to understand. However, you are ruled by your emotions, so I forgive you."


    Kiyora didn''t know what to say. Alchara''s change in demeanor had been very sudden. Kiyora felt that she was a naughty child who had been cursing her mother out. Now she was to be punished.


    "I am perfectly willing to force the issue," continued Alchara. "My designs have been thwarted once before. I won''t let it happen again.


    "This is for the greater good. You''ll thank me for this someday."


    Like hell, she would. It didn''t matter to Kiyora how good Alchara was. This was personal. "This'' isn''t happening. I won''t let it."


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    "You act as though you have a choice." mused Alchara.


    "Oh, but I do," said Kiyora. "You told me I did. I think I''m going to start making some wrong choices." Then she summoned her will and departed that world. She left behind a hellscape in place of a field of flowers.


    What she found herself in was a hall. Despite a massive roaring bonfire in the center, it was veiled in shadow. Many satyrs were dancing around it, waving weapons and torches. And on her dark throne, the demoness observed it with clasped claws and flicking tail. Except she was translucent. It was like she was a living shadow. As Kiyora approached, the shadow raised a hand, and the bonfire went out.


    At once, there were shrieks as the satyrs fled from the hall, leaving it in darkness. Then, a violet flame appeared, bathing the room in its light. Kiyora thought this somewhat melodramatic. She reminded herself who she was speaking to.


    The demoness moved forward and bowed. Her ropelike tail lashed around one of the eight pillars which held the roof up. "Oh, what a supreme honor. The Dreaming Goddess in my home. What are you doing here?"


    "Not really sure," admitted Kiyora.


    "Well, fortunately, I have my questions." said the demoness. "You see, I recently received an offer. A share in the very lucrative profits ensuing from the pilgrims to the mirror of Laevian. I must wonder, what exactly were you hoping to gain by this?"


    "Oh, that?" asked Kiyora. "I figured if you got money from the shrine, you''d be less likely to start a war. See, I can cut you off."


    "You don''t know me very well." said the demoness. "Money isn''t everything. My satyrs might appreciate the luxuries. I have no taste for such things."


    "I also want a favor in return," said Kiyora, deciding to push her luck.


    "A favor?" asked the demoness. "Oh, I see, and what favor could one of my powers do for one so insignificant as yourself?"


    "You know that sentence doesn''t make sense, right?" asked Kiyora. If you are the superior one and I''m insignificant, you wouldn''t need to ask what kind of favor you could do for me. You''d already know a million ways."


    "Well, obviously; however, I refuse to pretend inferiority to anyone," said the demoness. Kiyora didn''t get it. "Now, what is the favor?"


    "I um... I kind of need advice," said Kiyora. "And help. See, I''ve just been forced into an arranged marriage with this guy I don''t know, and I have no idea what to do?"


    "You are coming to me for advice on your relationship?" inquired the demoness in deadpan.


    "Yes," said Kiyora.


    "I am a physical manifestation of sin." said the demoness. She lashed out with her tail. Using it, she pulled herself around the pillar. Then she hung down, her dark hair nearly reaching the floor. Her face was inches from Kiyora''s now. "Surely, there must be someone else you could get advice from with a greater interest?"


    "Well, yeah, but I appeared here first," said Kiyora.


    "Very well," mused the demoness. There is no one more suited to any task than myself. Tell me, does this miserable personage have any other wives?"


    "Four of them," said Kiyora.


    "Well, then, that is a simple matter. You must marry him and make yourself his favorite wife," said the demoness, examining her claws. "Then you kill him in his sleep and plant evidence that one of the other wives did the deed."


    "Any ideas which don''t involve murder?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, that is a complication, isn''t it?" mused the demoness thoughtfully. "Not allowed to use murder as a solution, an exciting issue. First of all, I must know who wants this marriage to happen?"


    "The Emperor Ictargo," said Kiyora. "He''s kind of like the God-Emperor of where I''m from. Also, the Goddess Alchara, she''s the one pulling strings."


    "And why do they support the marriage?" asked the demoness.


    "Well, see, she has this whole eugenics program. She wants to make sure the bloodline of his royal family keeps getting stronger," said Kiyora. "Then there was something about creating the culmination of elven evolution. Or something. I don''t know. I didn''t quite get it."


    "Interesting." mused the demoness. "What resources do you have?"


    "Well, I mean, I''m a goddess here, but in the real- world, I''m just an ordinary person," said Kiyora. "Well, not really, but I don''t have an army or anything."


    "Well, this does not bode well for you," mused the demoness. "Are there any common elements in your world? Any deities worshipped there that are also worshipped here?"


    "Well, there is Alchara," said Kiyora. "She is like Emperor Ictargo''s wife, except he answers to her. Um, she created my entire species."


    "Well then, the answer is simple," said the demoness. She launched herself from the pillar to land on her throne. "Those miserable high elves to the east over the river also worship Alchara. They praise her constantly. We need only make an alliance, descend on their civilization, and snuff most of it out.


    "Eventually, we can give Alchara an ultimatum. Tell her that she must call off the wedding if she wants the killings to stop. We''ll have taken much territory, and you''ll be free to marry as you please."


    "Right, okay," Why had Kiyora come here again? "I''m going to get a second opinion before I sack any cities."


    "Whatever for?" asked the demoness. "My viewpoint is always right, so you''ll just be wasting your time."


    "I don''t think you''re as smart as you think you are," said Kiyora.


    "You are quite correct," said the demoness. "In my diminished state, I cannot comprehend my full glory. Do come back when you wish to discuss war plans."


    Kiyora teleported. She suspected that looking in the Mirror of Laevian had knocked more than a few screws loose. The Demoness was less impressive than she used to be.


    Finding herself in the halls of the palace of Arsheen, she saw someone she hadn''t seen in months. The soldier was clad in a white tunic and gray pants instead of his worn black armor. He also had a scar on his face, which hadn''t been there. But she knew him by his brown hair and thin features.


    "Dreaming Goddess, to what do we owe the pleasure?" he asked.


    "Sarris, right?" said Kiyora. "You were the commander of that fort, Laughing Wraith attacked. Um, how have you been?"


    "Well, I''ve been presiding over the reconstruction of Asimir''s territories," said Sarris. "Duke Vanion has replaced most of Asimir''s allies. And he has given the positions to people under his control. It should ensure that even if the Duke is replaced as governor, he''ll hold power over this place." He paused for a moment. "At the moment, I''ve come to speak with Duke Vanion regarding certain formalities."


    "What formalities?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well," said Sarris, "Duke Vanion has ordered me to marry the daughter of Lord Asimir. He hopes to keep any ideas of rebellion from cropping up by giving Asimir a chance to regain his lands. Any sons or daughters I might have would be of his blood and heirs to the land.


    "So if Asimir doesn''t do anything treacherous, his family will get their lands back."


    "That''s pretty sneaky," said Kiyora. "Don''t you have a problem with it?"


    "No," admitted Sarris. "She is beautiful, and I understand the need for continuity. Duke Vanion does not make bad decisions. I wanted to consult him about what kind of ceremony I should have. I thought I should have a Harlenorian one dedicated to Elranor. But I''m afraid that might prove provocative. The worship of Baltoth hasn''t faded entirely from the region."


    "Well, you could try mixing Calishan and Harlenorian customs," suggested Kiyora.


    "Which is why I am going to speak with Duke Vanion," said Sarris.


    "So where is he anyway?" asked Kiyora. "I need to ask him for advice on something private."


    "He is having tea with Lord Telus," said Sarris. "They usually discuss business, so I won''t interrupt them. However, I''m certain he''ll be willing to break off his current engagement for you."


    "Why?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, you are a goddess," said Sarris. "It isn''t every day one asks him for advice. It would only improve his reputation."


    "Good point," mused Kiyora. "Could you take me to him?"


    Sarris led her into a secluded courtyard filled with many plants and trees. These were not like the other trees in Artarq. They had been brought from far away and placed into this place. Spells were in this place to make the room the right temperature.


    There was a fountain on either side of the courtyard, and at the center, there was a pavilion. There Duke Vanion was having tea with two others at a table. First, a big, burly man with a long blonde beard, and second, a horrifically ugly woman. Her nose was crooked, and her face was scarred. As Kiyora approached, she wondered what had happened to her.


    "Raynald informs me your daughter Tanith continues to distinguish herself, Edmund," said Vanion. "You should be proud."


    "Yes, she always did have a talent for battle," said the man. "Raynald must have taught her well."


    "She has proven herself a great asset," said Vanion, sipping a cup of tea. "Such heroism in a family should be rewarded. I understand that your middle child, Sunthred, has a certain talent for administration."


    "Yes," said Edmund. "He has a good head for business and knows how to motivate people. Unfortunately, he isn''t due to inherit anything. Not like my worthless firstborn." He looked at his tea. "Don''t you have any sugar?" S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Unfortunately, we ran out a while ago," said Vanion. "And due to certain revelations regarding how sugar is made, I have chosen not to purchase any more. There is honey, of course."


    "Right, right," said Edmund, "I remember you wrote me a letter or two about that."


    "Now then, in regards to Sunthred. I may be of some service," said Vanion. "Several Lords of Artarq recently betrayed me. The usual defections and conspiracies. Thus, their territories are forfeit. Of course, I will need new administrators. Some will be given to those native Lords who proved themselves worthy. Others to those worthy families who have served me best.


    "I thought I might give your family the territory of Lord Rustaf. I recently conquered his castle, and I thought Sunthred might enjoy a chance to prove himself."


    "You honor us," said Edmund.


    "The Telus family has always been a staunch ally of the Gabriels. And you, Edmund, have always been a good friend," said Vanion. "I have always enjoyed our time together. Of course, my administrators will provide some oversight."


    "Why should that be necessary?" asked Edmund, an edge in his voice.


    "A simple precaution," said Vanion. "People in Artarq have many customs and traditions which should be honored. Once Sunthred has grasped all those, I shall, of course, allow him free reign. Better to break in gradually rather than rush in."


    "I suppose that makes sense," said Edmund. "Is there anything I can do to return the favor?"


    "Well, at present, I am very much in a position of power," mused Vanion. "Still, there may come a day when I need help, and when that day comes, I may take you up on your most generous offer. Now, let us turn our minds to other things.


    "How are you enjoying the gardens of Arsheen, Rebecca?"


    He turned to the hideous woman with courtesy, and she smiled slightly. "They are beautiful. Very beautiful, Vanion." She looked like she wanted to say more but hesitated.


    Edmund coughed. "There is a matter weighing heavily on Rebecca''s heart."


    "What can I do to help, milady?" asked Vanion.


    Rebecca seemed to be striving to find the words. It looked like she wasn''t used to being addressed, but the Duke waited patiently. He didn''t show any sign of fear or disgust at her features. Kiyora was impressed. Elves always healed perfectly, so they didn''t have things like that. How could humans bear getting scars?


    "What happened to her face?" she asked quietly.


    "She was cursed by Laevian when she was young, and her face was scarred all over," said Sarris. "Lord Telus fell in love with her despite that and married her anyway. A few people mocked him for it, but Raynald cut off their heads. After that, people stopped."


    Kiyora was just going to let the last bit pass. "Why would Laevian curse her?"


    "Who knows?" asked Sarris. "Laevian loves diseases and hates people."


    "Vanion, is Tanith holding together?" blurted out Rebecca.


    "Hmm?" asked Vanion.


    "She''s always been a somewhat unstable girl," said Rebecca. "I''ve been terrified; she''ll go to pieces."


    "I''m told that she is embracing her duties with extraordinary enthusiasm," said Vanion. "Raynald tells me she enjoys her work, Rebecca." He paused. "However, now that you mention it, I fear she may enjoy her work too much."


    "What do you mean?" asked Edmund.


    "I''ve read some of her reports," said Vanion. "And the reports of the other officers, dozens of them. I''ve detected a certain bloodthirsty tinge in them that wasn''t there before. Men who despised violence before now seem to love it. Rusara has noticed as well a specific taste for blood in the army.


    "It concerns me."


    "Well, they are fighting demons," said Edmund. "Raishans is a demon, aren''t they? That is bound to affect them somehow."


    "Yes," mused Vanion. "Demons are a horrible enemy to fight because their presence affects you. It drags on your thoughts, making you think like them. It is similar to what gods do but on a much more subtle scale.


    "I only pray that we can finish this campaign before any lasting harm is done. That brings me to the next subject. I''ve been negotiating with Baltoth for an alliance against the raishans."


    "What?" said Edmund, stunned.


    "Vanion, surely you cannot be serious," said Rebecca.


    "I have my reasons, I assure you," said Vanion. "For one thing, Baltoth is only sitting things out in his territory right now. He is watching our armies fight. If this continues, he may decide that he can take Artarq with minimal trouble. If I can convince him to engage the raishans in a war, it will help bring a swift end to this conflict. And it will also keep his armies occupied."


    "It does make sense," mused Edmund. "You were always better at these sorts of machinations. But are you sure we can trust them not to turn on us?"


    "Baltoth doesn''t break his word," said Vanion. "It is one of his great virtues."


    "Virtues?" asked Rebecca. "Surely, you cannot be serious, Vanion. Baltoth is a beast."


    "As a Lord of Harlenor, I must hate him," said Vanion. "But if Baltoth lacked virtues, we should have defeated him long ago. He is the great enemy, and we must take him seriously. So let us not delude ourselves that he has no good points."


    Then he looked up at Kiyora, and she realized he''d been aware of her from the beginning. He was sharp, wasn''t he? "Ah, Kiyora, I was wondering when you would appear."


    "Duke Vanion," said Kiyora, "could I get your advice on something."


    "Who is this elf?" asked Edmund, the edge returning to his tone. "There seems something strange about her?"


    "This is the Dreaming Goddess," said Vanion. "She has become a family friend over the past year."


    "You always were good at making allies," muttered Edmund.


    Rebecca put a hand on Edmund''s shoulder. "I''m certain we can enjoy the garden while you assist her with whatever her problem is."


    "My thanks," said Vanion.


    He rose from his seat and descended the stairs to approach Kiyora. Looking to Sarris, he slightly nodded, and the soldier departed. Then Vanion looked to Kiyora. "Now, Kiyora, what is it you need help with?"


    Kiyora considered how best to sum it up. Vanion was in a hurry, and she didn''t want to waste his time. "I... okay, I''m being forced into an arranged marriage with a guy I''ve never met by my goddess, Alchara. A guy who was betrothed to my mother before she broke it off. I need help breaking it up, and I have an idea."


    "What idea?" asked Vanion.


    "Well, I thought I could ally with the satyrs," said Kiyora. "I could threaten to invade the elven reservations if Alchara didn''t call it off."


    "That seems like something of an overreaction, doesn''t it?" said Vanion, tone level.


    "Yeah, I know," said Kiyora. "But Alchara acted like a huge jerk. I can''t think of anything else."


    "This plan of yours might work," admitted Vanion. "But you would gain a small victory at great cost later on. Alchara is far more powerful than you. She is in a position to cause you great trouble in the future if you alienate her now."


    "So what can I do?" asked Kiyora.


    "First of all, what tone exactly did your meeting with Alchara end at?" asked Vanion.


    "A pretty bad one, I guess," said Kiyora. "She tried to mind-control me. I swore at her and left. I was pretty pissed off."


    "Unfortunate." mused Vanion. "You must learn to control your temper. First, you should go to her and apologize for any harsh words you may have spoken. Tell her that though you do not like the situation, you will submit to her greater judgment."


    "That doesn''t help at all," said Kiyora.


    "On the condition that she meet directly with me," said Vanion. "So that we can discuss the matter directly. She must be made aware of a few complications in this scheme of hers."


    "Duke Vanion," said Kiyora, "I know you''re brilliant and all, but do you really think you can talk Alchara out of this?"


    "I''m hopeful that I can," said Vanion. "You''d be surprised what one can accomplish with an appeal to reason."


    "But what if you can''t?" asked Kiyora.


    Vanion smiled. "You are a neutral faction in Seathorius with good relations with Harlenor. I can hardly have you becoming a puppet of Alchara, can I?"


    "Right," Kiyora found herself smiling despite herself.


    Duke Vanion had something planned. She had no idea what it was, but it was worth a shot. First, however, she had to apologize to Alchara.


    Oh damn, she had to apologize to Alchara. It was best to put it off until everyone has calmed down. She''d just stick around the dream world. It wasn''t like there was anything she wanted to do in the real world right now. And she couldn''t be married off while she was in a coma.

 Chapter 95 - Twenty-three: The War Continues

    Two weeks later, William sat upon a stone wall, playing music for Massacre. The notes were coming off his harp without him even noticing. He waited for Tanith to call for him and was less than impatient. The chimera was lying on her back, basking in the sun, and did not seem to mind that he was not using the Goldenwood Harp. It helped him forget what had been happening. Two weeks of blood and death. Plunging into the depths of raishan nests alongside Tanith and Kusher. Two weeks of playing his harp until he was afraid he would break it.


    Two weeks.


    He''d seen a lot of horrible things in this time. Villages depopulated were the most common. Those who once dwelled in them had fled or died beneath the scythes of the raishans. Even those they got to in time had masses of wounded he had to heal. And plenty of dead. These days, he no longer accompanied the strike force into the raishan nests. He''d had one too many near misses. Anyone else could be replaced, but his connection to the divine could not. Less easily, anyway.


    Rusara was sitting beside him. She had appeared out of nowhere, as usual. He looked up to where she was gazing at him carefully.


    "I wish there was more I could do," he said.


    "You are doing as much as you can, William," said Rusara. "We must all play our part."


    "Yes, but it isn''t enough," said William. "People are still dying."


    "It might be worse," mused Rusara. "I expected I would hear the news that Krishiv and all its people had been massacred without us. Fortunately, they held out as long as they did."


    "I expect the Calishans will start another war after this one," mused William.


    "Perhaps. Perhaps not," said Rusara. "I received news from your father."


    "Yes?" asked William.


    "Vanion is sending reinforcements as we speak. He is gathering an army from the Harlenorian Kingdoms," said Rusara. "The Kings of Harlenor have all the records on the raishans. If they are wise, they will respond."


    "What do you think they will do?" asked William.


    Rusara considered the question. "Tyus Vortegex, the King of Escor, will send nothing himself; his position is unstable. I do not know him, but if he is wise, he may call adventurers and mercenaries to go west to fight raishans. That will get the violent young men out of the country and decrease the chances of civil war.


    "King Andoa is well disposed to Duke Vanion. He will believe him. However, he has already dispatched troops to Artarq, so he will be slow to escalate."


    "And what of my land?" asked William. "What of Haldren?"


    "I fear they will send nothing at all," said Rusara.


    "You can''t be serious, Lady Rusara," said William. "I know King Gavin regards Father as a rival, but he must see the trouble."


    "He will see a lack of profit to be made," said Rusara. "And he will see something else. That Vanion might have his unassailable reputation for victory dented. I''m afraid people can be shortsighted about these things."


    "The men have been talking about that," said William. Most people want more than glory in war. They want money and wealth and slaves. And no one is getting that here.


    "What about the Calishans? How are Father''s negotiations going?"


    "He is making great progress," said Rusara. "Baltoth does see the need. He has a living memory of the last raishan invasion. A large Calishan army is on its way to his allies in Khasmir. We''ve agreed to stay out of each other''s way for now, and they''ve already won several major victories."


    "Most armies would be defeated," mused William. "After the number of victories we''ve had, they should have already lost. Will we have to destroy every last raishan?"


    "Eventually, yes," said Rusara. "Fortunately, we managed to catch them before they became too formidable. We''ve already freed most of those they brought with them, which limits the size of the forces they can muster.


    "Unless they can gain significant victories very soon, their days are numbered."


    "Do you think we''ll fight them again?" asked William.


    "It is possible," mused Rusara. "It depends on many factors." She looked down at his harp. "I notice you are using a different harp from usual."


    "Yes," said William, "I wanted to see if Massacre enjoyed my music when I wasn''t using the Goldenwood Harp."


    "Is this about what Kusher said to you back in the meteor?" asked Rusara.


    "Yes," said William. "I''m afraid I''ll end up stunting my growth."


    "Well, I applaud using an ordinary harp in the circumstances," said Rusara. "It shows you are taking things seriously. And there was some truth in his words. Kusher is far more intelligent than you''d think at first glance."


    At that moment, Felix got back. The boy ran up to the wall and nearly tripped over Massacre. He stepped on her tail, and Massacre let out a yowl as she stood up. Felix backed up as the chimera glared daggers at him.


    "Easy girl," said William, scratching her behind the ears, "what news, Felix?"


    "They are ready for you," said Felix.


    "Right," said William. "Come on, Massacre." He handed Felix his harp. "Take this back to the village chief. Then catch up with us."


    "Understood," said Felix.


    William donned his helmet. Together he and Rusara made their way out of the village. Felix caught up to them as they got to the cave''s mouth.


    The cave had been delved into the edge of a plateau and blocked up with stones. They''d searched for days to find it, but Massacre had located it in a few hours. Now, judging by the raishan corpses lining the inside, it was safe.


    William walked into it, following the tunnel down into the earth, pausing only to summon light. As they walked, they began to hear voices.


    "Do you know what is the worst thing about fighting raishans?" He heard Kusher say.


    "The lack of plunder," said Tanith. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The money is a small concern. No real warrior concerns themselves with it more than they have to," said Kusher. "I mean the real worst thing. They always do everything the same. We''ve had three battles with these things, and in every one of them, they charge head-on and die in droves. It''s a paltry sport.


    "Do they want to die?"


    "They might," mused Tanith. "They are the souls of the damned after us. Maybe they want to be released."


    "How pleasant for them," said Kusher. "But I want variety in the things I kill. Even the defenses in this nest were weak. Rusara burned through them easily, and then we cut down the rest in a melee. There is no more fun in slaughtering these damn animals."


    They rounded the corner and found Tanith and Kusher sitting near dozens of dead raishans. Their men were there as well. And beyond them were hundreds upon hundreds of eggs. Just looking at them hurt William''s eyes. He could practically hear the souls within screaming for release.


    Tanith glanced up. "William, there you are. Where have you been?"


    "Is there anyone in need of healing?" asked William.


    "Our healer saw to them," said Tanith. "It''s nothing serious. Get rid of these eggs for now."


    "As you wish," said William.


    "Remind me again why we can''t just smash these damn things?" muttered Kusher.


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    "Destroying the eggs is only a temporary solution," said William. "The souls corrupted within them would not be purified. Instead, they would go to the nearest raishan nest and be reincarnated there. If I purify them, the souls will go on to their next life, free of the-"


    "Nevermind, I''m not interested," muttered Kusher. "Just destroy them already."


    William unslung the Goldenwood Harp and began to play it. As the music filled the chamber, he felt the raishans with his mind. They were in pain, tormented spirits trying to escape, and he felt no resistance from them. He could feel the spells upon the raishans weakening, feel the souls going free.


    Then he felt something else. It was a glimmer of intellect, and he suddenly felt anger. As he played, William found himself thinking over how often he had done this. How many nests of raishans had he put down? How many souls had he freed? How much had he interfered with the plans of whoever was behind this?


    He did not know why, but he felt an impotent fury. All this effort, and what was the result?


    What was he thinking? The result was the destruction of the raishans and the salvation of souls. That was his purpose here, wasn''t it? William suddenly felt he was not entirely who he thought he was.


    Then it was gone. The eggs around him had shattered and disappeared into the cave floor. This always happened. He always felt strange after making contact with the raishans mind. "I wish others could take my place in all this," muttered William. "I''d much rather be fighting with a sword."


    "You''ll get your chances soon enough, Will," said Tanith. "Where has Felix got to?"


    "I''m here," said Felix over by the wall. He was listening against it and tapping it experimentally. "This wall is hollow and is a crack where something could slip under here."


    "Really?" asked Rusara. "Step back, and we''ll soon see."


    Felix obeyed. Rusara snapped her fingers. An explosion of green flame flared, and the wall melted before their eyes. William shielded his eyes from the light, feeling the feet on his face.


    "Lady Rusara, I didn''t know you could burn stone," said Tanith.


    "It is more difficult, but in my experience, with enough heat, you can burn just about anything." mused Rusara.


    William made his way forward toward the way in. Raising his light, he entered into the passage. Within, he saw yet another cluster of eggs. The raishans must have hidden them in here, hoping to avoid their eyes.


    He looked at the walls. "Strange, it looks almost as though something doused these walls in acid." mused William. "No matter." He glanced up. "More eggs. I''ll get to work on them right-"


    "Look out!" cried Felix.


    William ducked, and just in time. A glob of green liquid spat over his head and crashed into the wall, melting it away. William drew out his sword and turned to see a massive raishan descending from the ceiling. It had four scythe arms and two sets of mandibles, and he scarcely had time to raise his shield before it slashed at him.


    The force against the shield was like a thunderbolt. He staggered back and took a stance. William could hear battle cries from the other chamber, but he had no time to wonder. He warded off blow after blow, trying to get his sword out. Finally, he managed it, and the beast slammed him against the wall.


    He felt the impact and slumped to the ground. The monster opened its mandibles and leaned in close. He rolled away quickly and just in time as yet more acid was spat against the wall. He brought down his sword and hit the beast on the head. The blade cut deep, but not deep enough. Drawing it out, William struck again and again.


    Finally, the beast''s head was cut from its shoulders, and the body lay still.


    The sound of battle had ended, and he made his way out to find the others. Several more of the men had died in the fighting, and there were dozens of raishans around them. Tanith''s breastplate was hissing and burning in several places.


    "Are you alright?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Tanith. "My armor caught the worst of it." She glanced up. "Rusara, you''re the expert on these things. Why did they suddenly gain the power to spit acid?"


    "Raishans grow more powerful the older they are," said Rusara. "As the soul becomes more corrupted, the beast can access more of its power. I suspect we have been fighting younger raishans until now, and these were some of the older ones."


    "Well, at least killing them will be more interesting now," muttered Tanith.


    "I''ll start breaking the spell," said William.


    "Not yet," said Rusara. "You play too important a role in this army to be risked for just anything. Tanith searched that whole passage. When you are done, William will free the spirits of those within."


    The men moved off, and William and Felix approached. William could feel his heart still beating hard from the fighting. Sweat dripped down his brow. He''d need to get used to this.


    "Lady Rusara, isn''t this a bit futile?" asked Felix suddenly.


    "How do you mean?" asked Rusara.


    "We only managed to purge a few of the nests within the meteors before they spread to the outside world," said Felix. "Now, they are establishing new nests throughout the land. And we''re starting to face more dangerous ones. We might just be delaying the inevitable if they keep laying eggs."


    "You needn''t fear, Felix," said Rusara. "Raishans cannot create souls, only twist them into their image. Every time William or another holy man destroys a nest, their number of souls diminishes. They can only increase it by capturing the souls of the living or drawing more souls from hell.


    "For the first, it takes a great deal of time to twist a soul into a raishan; the less wicked the person, the harder it is. We likely freed many of those they were attempting to subvert here. As for the second, it would take a direct connection to the hells to do that."


    "I don''t understand why they would appear in those meteors," said William. "Couldn''t they just have someone summon them?"


    "Raishans are not an intelligent breed of demon," said Rusara. "They usually play the role of servants to a higher power. I doubt they could have arranged their summoning. As for the meteors, it was rather clever. Demons cannot enter areas where the gods hold sway unless a mortal summons them.


    "But if those meteors came from a place where no god held sway? Then, they might appear freely. They must have burrowed into them, then set them in motion to strike this world." Then she paused. "No, something would still need to draw them here to enter their domain.


    "They were still summoned. Just not here."


    "Kusher, are there any nexuses of powerful unholy energy in Khasmir that you know of?" asked William.


    "How in Kreshlak''s name should I know?!" asked Kusher. "We satyrs do not concern ourselves with such weak things as magic!"


    "Of course," said William. "I apologize for making assumptions."


    There was silence for a moment. "Relg may know more," said Kusher reluctantly. "He has an interest in such things."


    "Then, I''ll be sure to speak with him," said William. Didn''t most satyrs concern themselves with such things?


    "Lady Rusara, we''ve searched the whole passage," said Tanith. "The eggs are now unguarded."


    "Excellent work," said Rusara. "William, play your part."


    William did it again. But this time, it was far harder. The souls within these eggs were not fighting against their imprisonment. They were almost attached to it, and when he tried to break their chains, they thrashed and tore at him. It hurt him, and he had to withdraw his mind initially.


    William made another attempt. The creatures clawed at his mind, and there was a horrible resolve. They clung to their slavery and defended it ferally. However, he had his own power, and Elranor was his help. He wrestled them free and shattered the spells.


    It was over.


    "We''re done here," said William. "The spirits have been pacified."


    They burned their dead {After taking their valuables, of course.} and made their way out. Tanith stretched as they entered the sunlight and let out a happy sigh. "Finally, we''re out of that hole!"


    "I thought you liked fighting, Tanith," said Felix.


    "Of course I do," said Tanith. "That doesn''t mean I like going into cramped caves. Fighting in them is hard. And I hate not making a profit."


    "Being a warrior is not about profit," said Kusher, looking unsteady. "It is about cutting down one''s enemies and spilling their blood on the fields of their home."


    "Well, obviously, but profit is nice all the same," said Tanith.


    They were tired. William didn''t blame them. It seemed like they had been doing this for an eternity. He looked to Rusara. "Lady Rusara, I''d like to ask you a question, and I''d appreciate it if you told me the answer without embellishment."


    "What is it, William?" asked Rusara.


    "Are we winning?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Rusara. "Yet our victory is at the edge of a cliff. If you or any other holy men are killed, things could turn against us. As things stand, I think we will have destroyed the raishans within a few months. If the situation changes, the war could last years.


    "That is why you must not rush into anything."


    "I understand," said William.


    That night, they ate well in the hall of the grateful chieftain. Many of his warriors had accompanied them. The chieftain himself had stayed behind due to an injury. As they ate and drank, warriors told stories of their exploits. Some were on this battlefield, others in the distant past. William didn''t have much to add; he had played his harp, and what people wanted to hear about was blood and death.


    As things calmed down, he saw Kusher and Tanith speaking alone to one side. Kusher was showing Tanith a talisman in the shape of a hammer. "You see this?" asked the satyr. "This is a symbol of Kreshlak. Those who bear it are marked as true warriors. He wants you to have this."


    "Me?" asked Tanith. "How do you know?"


    "I saw a vision last night," said Kusher, "I dreamed I was standing in a field of bloody corpses. Thousands lay dead on the ground of battle. I saw a figure leading the armies of Kreshlak into battle in glorious carnage. They devastated a thousand worlds.


    "The figure I saw was you. But not as you are now."


    "Have you been drinking?" asked Tanith.


    "No," said Kusher. "Well, yes, but the point is that you should take up the worship of Kreshlak."


    "I serve Elranor," said Tanith.


    "As do I," said Kusher, "but someone may serve two gods. Kreshlak is far more after your heart."


    "After your heart, maybe," said Tanith. "I serve Elranor."


    "You know better," said Kusher. "I''ve seen you in battle, how you throw yourself into the fighting. You love it more than even I do. The death, the risk, the worthy enmity. What harm can there be in serving a god who understands you?"


    Tanith looked at the amulet for a long moment. She reached out for it. For a moment, William thought she would draw it back. Then she took it. "Well, I don''t see the harm. Thanks." She tied the amulet around her neck. "All I have to do is keep doing what I already do."


    "Precisely," said Kusher. "All who lust for battle serve Kreshlak, just as all who love justice serve Elranor. I am glad you have joined us."


    William arose and departed the hall and walked to sit down on the steps of the great hall. The strange presence he had felt within the raishans troubled him. It had been like a voice that had been whispering in his mind. Whispering until he thought it was his own. He hadn''t been feeling like himself for a moment.


    "What is wrong?" asked Felix.


    "Nothing," said William.


    "No," said Felix, "it is not nothing. I know you?"


    "I''ve been staring into the abyss a lot," said William. "I hate being in contact with those monsters. It''s just an endless hunger and hatred which drives them."


    "Well-" began Felix.


    Whatever words of comfort or wisdom Felix might have said were never spoken. There was a sudden beating of wings, and a black blur landed before them on one knee and one hand. A familiar demoness looked up at him. "Good evening, dear."


    "You-" began William.


    Then she punched him in the face, and everything went black.

 Chapter 96 - Twenty-four: Karasush

    William''s head hurt. It hurt a lot. He was also cold. Colder than he had been even in Khasmir. As he gradually pulled himself up, he found himself within what appeared to be a small hut. Sitting cross-legged near the far wall was the demoness, her tail whipping. Her bright blue eyes flared as he stood. His sword was still at his side, and his shield was slung over his back.


    "Oh, you''re awake," said the demoness. "I must say I like the new armor. It makes you look almost credible."


    "Where am I?" asked William, inching his hand for his sword.


    "In one of the villages that didn''t quite manage to hold out or flee," said the demoness. "Don''t worry; all the bodies are gone; the raishans are pretty good at cleaning up after themselves. All of the valuables are gone, too. The worshippers of Fortenex have been stripping the villages the raishans attack.


    "Rather clever."


    He grabbed his sword and surged forward to strike down the heartless-


    Her tail lashed out, and he was thrown against the wall hard. As he tried to rise again, her tail slapped him backward, whipping him several times. His armor kept it from hurting him, but the weight behind her strikes was insurmountable.


    "Ah, yes," said the demoness in a bored tone. "You only survived our last encounter because I was toying with you, right?"


    "No, you weren''t," said William, his scar burning.


    "Believe what you will," said the demoness, looking around. "We won''t be staying long here. I just thought we might stop and admire the scenery while I reveal the whole plan to you."


    Not this again. William had had enough of her posturing in Seathorius. "Why would you reveal your plans for me?" S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Because they aren''t my plans," said the demoness with a yawn. "Anyway, I''m mostly doing it for my entertainment. That is the purpose of the universe, after all.


    "Now, how to begin? Ah yes. This little invasion is not my doing but the doing of a satyr named Karasush. A warlock of some power and a good name among the worshippers of Fortenex. He sent his will far afield. And he used it to summon the raishans to this place. His goal was to cause untold havoc, hoping he might step into the wreckage and build an empire."


    William decided to humor him. "How?" he asked. "How could anyone be powerful enough to summon meteors?"


    "He had help." said the demoness. "Several higher powers assisted him. In any case, we are here and going to him."


    "Why would you help him?" asked William. That was a stupid question. She''d do anything to appease her vanity.


    "Oh, he''s helping me," said the demoness. "Some time ago, he realized my brilliance and inherent superiority. Thus, he offered me the opportunity to lay hands upon a weapon of unfathomable power. It is known only as the Axe of Fortenex."


    "Does it have something to do with Fortenex?" asked William.


    "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit," mused the demoness.


    "No wonder you use it so much," said William. "What makes you think he''ll just give you this axe? And what does it have to do with me?"


    "One might say the axe is my birthright," said the demoness. "And Karasush will not be doing the giving. As for you, since you are so very self-centered, I shall get right to the point. I tried to kill you because your existence was an anchor for Melchious''s will. If and when he fully recovers, he should be able to use you to claw his way back in.


    "Now, the less intelligent would simply cut your throat and hope for the best. However, I have far grander aspirations. When I have gotten the Axe of Fortenex, we shall go to the plan''s next step. Karasush and his minions will use you to draw Melchious into the physical plane.


    "Constrained by a mortal body, I shall kill him again. And this time, it will stick."


    "Astonishing," said William. "As always, you astonish me."


    "It is refreshing to have one''s perfection acknowledged," mused the demoness.


    "No, I''m astonished because this is an idiotic plan," said William. "First off, unless I''m mistaken, you''ve only just met this Karasush person. How can you possibly trust him? And as for just being given the Axe of Fortenex, I''m assuming that Fortenex would be the one to hand it to you. In this imagined reality, why would he give to you of all people?"


    "Why wouldn''t he?" asked the demoness.


    "Fortenex is a god of bloodlust and slaughter who values loyalty," said William. "You are a scheming manipulator who betrays almost everyone she works with. How could you possibly be found worthy-" He was slammed backward again.


    "Silence!" said the demoness in sudden anger. "Oh, I do apologize. Sometimes, I become reckless when I hear heresy. You might want to stop dissuading me from this course of action, dear. After all, if I decide to call it off, then my first order of business would be to kill you."


    "Yes, but then you''d have to admit you were wrong about something," noted William.


    "In such situations, I simply pretend it was my plan," admitted the demoness.


    "Rather an elaborate setup for what could have been a swift kill," mused William.


    "Stop questioning my magnificence," said the demoness.


    "No," said William.


    The demoness looked to have something to say to that. But suddenly, she looked up, and William followed her gaze. The wind was howling. Outside the window, he saw a great storm of snow approaching them. As it came to the house, it settled down, swirling into a vortex. Finally, it dispersed to reveal a tall satyr clad in robes. He wore an iron mask that covered his face and a long tan cloak.


    "Well, if it isn''t my dear associate himself," said the demoness. "I am flattered that you came out here to provide me an escort befitting my glory. How have you been, Karasush?"


    "Well enough," said Karasush. "I see you brought him."


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    "But of course," said the demoness. "What other would I bring to so desolate a meeting place?"


    "The question occurred to me before you said it," said Karasush.


    Karasush looked at William. "Now, I imagine you are wondering who I am and what I want."


    "I am told you are named Karasush and that you are, apparently, a mastermind. One behind an elaborate plan to unleash a demonic invasion upon Khasmir," said William. "However, given that she lies with every word out of her mouth, I am inclined to disbelieve anything she says. So I allow you to account for your actions."


    "You speak as one in a position of power," noted Karasush.


    "I assure you, though I am your prisoner, I am not without power," said William. "If any harm comes to me, there is no power in all the world to halt the wrath of Rusara and Raynald."


    "And how would you like us to treat you?" asked Karasush.


    "As the son of a Duke, captured in the battlefield," replied William.


    "Well spoken," said Karasush. "I will grant your request. Come, we had the best return to my liege''s fortress of Yarish. We have purged most of the raishans in this region, yet some stragglers may remain. You will be our guest there, and we may take this time to explain matters more carefully."


    "I''m in no position to refuse you," noted William.


    "And what of our agreement, Karasush?" asked the demoness.


    "I said I might be able to draw Melchious into his body so that he could be killed directly," mused Karasush. "I did not say I would do it. I am already more than reasonable by letting you try for the Axe of Fortenex. I owe you no favors."


    "But of course," said the demoness. Her tone was cheerful. William could only assume she was plotting bloody vengeance. "I shall accompany you, and we shall speak no more of this."


    "Now we shall return home by a faster route than simply traveling by foot," said Karasush. "Stay where you are while I contact the spirits." Raising a hand, he snapped his fingers. Snow whipped up around them, swirling faster and faster around them. Then it settled.


    They were standing on top of a hill overlooking a large village. It was a place of wooden halls with slanted roofs and a ramshackle look. The wind was even worse here, and many pine trees loomed over them. There was a great hall in the center of the village. Behind was a small shrine with an entrance so dark that he couldn''t see a foot inside. It radiated hostility. That was strange since it couldn''t have been more than twelve feet tall, and it was far thinner than that. It was also of a very different design from the village far below, with a more rounded look to it.


    "You used your power over the spirits of this land to shift our location," noted William. "And this place was nowhere in sight of that village. You must be a mighty sorcerer to do that over such a large distance."


    "You are perceptive, aren''t you?" mused Karasush.


    "My mentor Rusara taught me well," said William. "Tell me, how is it that you have gained such mastery? You must have a very close relationship with the spirits."


    "In truth, it is only one spirit," said Karasush. "The dominant spirit of Khasmir and much of its power rests within this ring. The Lady Rusara has one like it, does she not?"


    "Yes," said William. "A ring within which a spirit of eternal flame resides. I have never heard how she got it, but her hints tell me it was no easy task. How did you attain yours?" He was curious and wanted Karasush to be at ease with his presence.


    "How does one attain power? There is but one way. Through service to a being greater than oneself?" asked Karasush. "You, of all people, ought to understand that."


    "Some of us have not shackled ourselves to lesser beings," mused the demoness. "Now, where is the temple? Is it there?" She motioned to the hall.


    "No. That is the great hall of the chieftain of this village," said Karasush. "The temple is there." And he motioned to the shrine.


    "Interesting," mused the demoness, "your great hall is of similar design to my temple. As for the temple, it is rather smaller than I expected. Are you certain the challenges are worth anything?"


    "Fortenex''s Temple is far larger on the inside," said Karasush. "That is his way. However, we have much to discuss, don''t we?"


    "Yes," said William, "I believe we do. But before we discuss anything, I want to know a few things."


    "Of course," said Karasush. "I will answer any questions you might have."


    "Did your clan unleash the raishans on Khasmir?" asked William.


    "It was a regrettable necessity," said Karasush. "The worshippers of Kreshlak were pressing in closer every day. We feared that we would be overwhelmed and slaughtered. We were thus forced to desperate lengths to save our people."


    "So you summoned a swarm of demons en masse to slaughter men, women, and children," surmised William.


    "That was not my intent," said Karasush. "My original desire was to summon only a few pockets of raishans. They were to distract the worshippers of Kreshlak. Distract them long enough for us to wage a counterattack and drive them out.


    "I reached out with my mind into the depths of the void between worlds and drew a small part of them here. Yet, I did not count on the intervention of a third party.


    "The situation has been spinning out of control since."


    "My, what astonishing twists of fate?" cried the demoness in mock surprise. "Who could have ever foreseen that a pact with an insatiable swarm of monsters could backfire?"


    "We were desperate," said Karasush. "If the servants of Kreshlak were to defeat us, they would have killed every man, woman, and child of our people. And since the raishans arrived, we have been working to destroy them."


    "I''m sure that will be ample consolation for the thousands torn to shreds," said William.


    "I am not making excuses," said Karasush. "Merely explaining what led to this situation. And allow you to fix the mistakes we made. Before yet, more raishans arrive."


    "I was doing just that before you had her kidnap me," said William.


    "And I don''t see how any of this will allow me to come into my rightful inheritance," mused the demoness. William began to suspect that she was not nearly so detached from all this as she pretended. This appearance of idiotic vainglory seemed more a charade by the moment.


    "How do I put this?" murmured Karasush. "Like Baltoth, Fortenex is a demon lord who became a god. That means his infernal realm is very close to the hells, where the raishans operate. And unfortunately, a powerful demon lord, Melchious, has taken their side."


    "Your old master," mused William, looking to the demoness.


    "Hardly," she scoffed, "he wasn''t so much my master as someone who thought he controlled me but was disposed of." That, at least, seemed to be her real feelings.


    "Whatever you think of him, Melchious has returned," said Karasush. "The raishans weaken the borders between the planes by their very presence. And the Temple of Fortenex is attuned to the demon realm.


    "Melchious broke the borders between Fortenex''s realm. Then he allowed the raishans to enter into it. By doing this, he has created a beacon of unholy power. One which will continue to draw the raishans to Khasmir until it is snuffed out."


    "I fail to see how any of this was unexpected," said William. The demoness was correct in her assessment of the situation. "In any case, what is Melchious trying to achieve? From what I''ve learned, he is cunning in his way. He isn''t interested in universal destruction as some of his kind are."


    "Ah, yes. You are correct," said Karasush. "I do not know. But I have a suspicion. When he was a mortal, Melchious was once one of Fortenex''s greatest servants. He was found worthy to wield the Axe of Fortenex. Yet he turned against Fortenex. From there, he went into the service of his nemesis¡ªthe Demon Queen Zigildrazia.


    "The Axe of Fortenex was stripped from him. And it was placed in that temple until a worthy warrior takes it."


    "Meaning myself, obviously," said the demoness.


    "What makes you so certain you''re worthy of it?" asked William.


    "Well, I am one of Fortenex''s daughters, after all," said the demoness proudly. "Rather than Melchious, who was many times removed from Father. As for my other qualities, I believe they speak for themselves."


    "They do indeed," said William. "So Melchious wants to get his axe back."


    "Yes. Or so I suspect," said Karasush. "The raishans presence in the temple may be wearing away at the seals which bind the axe in place."


    "Which means you must destroy the beacon drawing the raishans here," said William. "And you want to deny it to Melchious, so you invited her here."


    "Indeed," said Karasush.


    "I see where this is going," said William. "Why didn''t you just ask me for help?"


    "If I were to reveal what transpired here to the clans, they would be howling for our blood," said Karasush. "I hope to avoid the truth from getting out. If it does, my people will surely be slaughtered. And we never meant for things to go this far."


    "Well, they did get this far," snapped William. "And the whole world could suffer for it. Very well, I''ll do it, but on two conditions."


    "Name them," said Karasush.


    "First," said William, "you will pay homage to my father, Duke Vanion, and the King of Antion. Your people will become vassals of Harlenor. With all the benefits and responsibilities that involves."


    "Very well," said Karasush. "We''re in no position to refuse you. What is the other?"


    William didn''t believe him for a second. Karasush had agreed far too quickly, given William''s weak position. He could only assume he was trying to placate him and saying anything he thought William would want to hear. On to the subsequent request. "I want a full escort of troops to accompany me."


    "That... may not be wise," said Karasush.


    "Why not?" asked William. He felt more vindicated in his previous assessment by the moment.


    "Fortenex is a warrior god. Those who enter his temple must pass his tests," said Karasush. "If you take an army with you, at best, they''ll all be picked off individually, and you''ll have to do it alone. The worst-case scenario is that you''ll be killed with them."


    "So Fortenex would rather lose his most sacred artifact to an enemy than allow me to take an army to save it?" asked William.


    "In a word, yes," said Karasush. "There is a certain way these things are done. We''re very set on traditions in Khasmir."


    William doubted he was honest with him, but he was not in a position to argue with the man. "Tell me, why me? You must have holy men of your own."


    "We do," said Karasush. "And I have sent several of my own in already. None returned. You, however, have demonstrated a remarkable amount of power. I believe you are capable of succeeding where they have failed."


    "Alright, I''m game," said William. This was a trap. But if Karasush thought William was buying it hook, line, and sinker, he might need to correct it. "However, when this is over, I expect a written apology in calligraphy." If he could buy some time, he could slip away.


    "Whatever you want," said Karasush. "Provided you return victorious. And if you don''t return, I don''t expect we have anything more to discuss."


    "Very well," said William, "give me a day to prepare, and I will enter the temple and see it purged."


    What had he gotten himself into?

 Chapter 97 - Twenty-five: The Temple of Fortenex

    There was no ceiling in the Temple of Fortenex. Or, at the least, it was so high up that clouds had formed above them. Other than that, they appeared to be standing in a massive cathedral. Stained glass windows on the walls showed various bloody and horrific scenes. Heads on stakes, mass hangings, and many less pleasant things. They let in a bit of light at the very least, but it was somehow unpleasant.


    It was to light what blood was to water. Both were a form of liquid. But one was cleansing, and the other a source of impurity.


    He looked at the walls. The stonework was smooth cut and of a dark gray color. There were designs on it, too, of monstrous creatures of all kinds. Where was the demoness?


    William looked up and saw her walking in the distance. He ran to catch up, but space didn''t work the same way here. She couldn''t have been doing anything more than walking. He was sprinting. So why couldn''t he get any nearer to her?


    Then she glanced up, and he reached her easily. It only occurred then that he should not seek out her company. She''d tried to kill him many times, after all. Then again, he had no real allies in this situation, and she was the only person he knew who he might be able to work with. That was very, very sad. "So this is the Temple of Fortenex," he said. "I was expecting a lower ceiling."


    "Karasush did tell you it was larger on the inside," mused the demoness.


    "Yes, but I still didn''t expect this," said William. "This is large, even for a temple."


    "Well, Fortenex likes large buildings," said the demoness. "They make excellent places for battles."


    "It seems to me that that is the last thing one should want in a temple," mused William.


    "Oh, no one who worships Fortenex uses the temple for ceremonies," said the demoness. "Those all happen in the village. The temple is where Fortenex tests his champions to see if they are worthy of his blessings. And also where warriors duel to the death.


    "This is my second time inside one."


    "Really?" asked William, "What was it like the first time?"


    "Unpleasant," mused the demoness. "I lost my left arm."


    William looked at her very much intact two arms. "I can tell."


    "Oh, do shut up," said the demoness. "I can regenerate."


    It was strange talking to her like this. She didn''t seem to be putting on the same airs he''d seen from her before. And there was an oddly contemplative look on her face as they walked. Her blue eyes were not glowing quite so brightly; instead, they were in something of a smolder. It suddenly dawned on William that the demoness was very beautiful. Of course, it was feral and untamed, but it was there all the same. Her black skin was strange, but it didn''t undermine her looks; it just made them more exotic. And her curves-


    William turned his mind away from those particular assets. However vast, he refused to think of women in such a fashion. He''d trained himself not to.


    "I know exactly why you are looking at me," mused the demoness.


    Was he blushing? Time to change the subject. "So, we agree that Karasush intends to betray us the first chance he gets."


    "Oh, almost certainly," said the demoness. "Fortenex is probably watching and applauding at his plan. He means to have me get the axe for him while you clean up his mess. He''ll applaud just as loudly when I skin him alive, though. Father isn''t one for playing favorites."


    "Yes, I gathered from reading about him," said William. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"


    "Not at all. I exist to answer your meaningless questions," replied the demoness. "By all means."


    "You mentioned Melchious is a several times removed descendant from Fortenex?" said William.


    "Yes," said the demoness. "I believe his great-grandmother had a tryst with Father."


    "While you are his daughter." continued William.


    "My mother was a powerful succubus second only to Zigildrazia," said the demoness, a hint of pride in her tone. "Amysta, the demonic archon of lust."


    "Doesn''t that make you Melchious'' great aunt?" asked William. "Several times removed."


    "I suppose it does," mused the demoness. "We demons don''t pay much attention to family connections once they are more than one time removed. It causes too many headaches, and we don''t value them much. Now, what precisely are you edging at?"


    Right, an alliance. "I''m almost certain Karasush is going to try to have me killed after this is over. He can''t have what he''s done get out, and I doubt he''s willing to accept my conditions. He agreed too quickly."


    "My, you are almost intelligent, aren''t you, dear?" asked the demoness.


    "I''m suggesting that we ally," said William. "I''ll help you get the Axe of Fortenex if you help me with my mission. And then we both work together to get away from Karasush." And then, without thinking, he offered her his hand. She stopped and looked at it for a moment.


    "Now, that does sound vaguely appealing," she mused. "Very well." Her tail lashed out and wrapped around Wiliam''s hand. It constricted around it until it hurt before being withdrawn. "Now, let us see what kind of trouble we can get into."


    "Speaking of which, shouldn''t we have run into some of that trouble by now?" asked William. "Where are the raishans?"


    "Absent," said the demoness. "Karasush lied to you."


    "Well, it isn''t as though I can walk out now," muttered William. "Out of curiosity, do you have a name?"


    "Not one I intend to disclose to you, no," said the demoness.


    "Well, I can''t call you demoness repeatedly, can I?" asked William. "We could run into another one of your kind."


    "It hardly matters," she replied. "The vast majority of succubi are similar in personality. They''re all the same. However, they emphasize a different aspect of the same general person. All the demonic species are like that."


    "That sounds dull," mused William.


    ''Well, it makes predicting what they will do the essence of simplicity. Think what you would do, and you know their intentions." said the demoness. "Why do you think demons always try to manifest in the mortal world? There is no variety in hell; everything is all the same after a certain point."


    "And what makes you different?" asked William.


    "I have no loyalty to the cause of hell," said the demoness as though that explained everything.


    "I was under the impression that demons have no loyalty at all," said William.


    "For the most part, you are correct," said the demoness. "Our races all have an inherent devotion to mindless sin and pointless sadism. It allows us to unite against our enemies. With it, we''d get everything done.


    "For my part, I see no value in it. My only plan is my own ascension. If I have to create a perfect world of peace and friendship to become the supreme being over all things, so be it. Though I confess, I would much prefer to see everything on fire. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Most demons would rather reign in hell than serve in heaven. I would be perfectly willing to serve in heaven if it meant my eventual godhood."


    "You don''t believe all those proclamations of godhood, do you?" asked William suddenly.


    "It has occurred to me that they may not be true," admitted the demoness. "On the other hand, they may. After all, if I do ever become omnipotent, it is only natural that I would exist beyond the realm of this universe. Indeed, I would have always had to have existed. I cannot prove or disprove what I believe; I can only have faith that it is true."


    William felt strange for a moment. He reviewed the many stories Rusara had told him as a child. Then one, in particular, came to him. "Do you mind if I call you Arraxia?"


    "Hmm?" asked the demoness.


    "Arraxia was a Dust Elven lady; her name means defiance," said William. "You see, at the time, the Dust Elves were refugees in Escor. A Lord of Escor took a fancy to her. He demanded her as a consort, and her father, not desiring a war, agreed to give her.


    "Outraged, Arraxia murdered her father and made war on the Lord. She killed him and many of his allies in many great victories. But the Lord''s son went to his ally, my ancestor, Erik the Voyager. Erik the Voyager killed Arraxia and began a campaign to destroy the dust elves.


    "But his nemesis, Rundas De Chevlon, took the Dust Elves part, and there was a great war. It grew, and all of Escor was consumed in flames."


    "Well, that does sound entertaining," mused the demoness. "Especially since you lost."


    "No one won," said William. "House De Chevlon triumphed in the battlefield, and House Gabriel was forced to flee to Haldren. But their most loyal lieutenant betrayed him before Rundas could make himself King. He was forced to flee to Antion. The Dust Elves went south to Antion as well. They were never popular. Eventually, they settled in the Dusk Lands, a barren region where few people dwell.


    "Even the new King of Escor didn''t do very well. He inherited a Kingdom ripped apart by war and more divided than ever. And how he gained his throne would stain his honor for years."


    "Well, let no one say that the universe doesn''t give happy endings," said the demoness. "What I do not understand is what the connection is?"


    "Well, Arraxia hated the hand that fate had dealt her," said William. "And she responded by murdering thousands of people. Most of whom had only an indirect connection to the one who wronged her at best.


    "It seemed like the sort of thing you''d do."


    The demoness laughed. For all her false humor, it was the first time he''d heard her laugh, and it was strange. She laughed and laughed before finally calming down. Then her tail touched his shoulder. "I would prefer "My Queen," but I suppose if you must call me by a name, that one will do for now."


    "I hope you are used to disappointment if you expect me ever to call you royalty, Arraxia," mused William.


    "Yes, well, I''ve been used to disappointment for many years," mused Arraxia.


    The temple had passed away. Now, they were walking through an endless maze of strange stonework. Looking back, William saw that the path behind them curved straight upwards. Yet, it did not level out. It reached upwards into a stormy green sky with black clouds. There was a tremor beneath their feet, a flash of light, and then the roar of lightning.


    The path turned, and the walls closed behind them as they walked. They could not retrace their steps. Yet they saw no danger and faced no challenges ¡ª this confused William.


    "You''ve asked me many questions, William," said Arraxia. "I think you owe me an answer of your own."


    "That seems fair," said William.


    "You have sworn your service to Elranor, have you not?" asked Arraxia. "If he commanded you to die for him, would you?"


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    William considered the question. He was a paladin of Elranor; it was his duty to serve him. And he knew Elranor would not ask for such a sacrifice lightly. He would only ask it if it were the right thing to do. But would William be willing to lay down his life? He wanted to say yes, but he wasn''t sure. He wished he could say yes.


    "If he called on me to die for him, I hope I would have the strength," said William.


    "Yes, and you shall be called unto the Halls of Knights to sit beside your forefathers. No doubt to await the final battle when Smyngoth awakens and the world ends," muttered Arraxia. ''Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, who cares about the details? It means you are giving up all you are for the sake of another.


    "In essence, you are losing."


    "That is an interesting way to think of it," said William.


    "One is victorious when one''s will is dominant over another," said Arraxia. "When one''s will submits to another, then one is defeated. To give in willingly is to admit a defeat."


    He should respond to that statement in terms she would understand. He wondered if proclaiming how serving others was the right thing to do would get him anywhere. "Yet there are rewards for service," mused William. "One can grow stronger, serving a greater being."


    "Of course, one must accept defeats occasionally for a greater victory," mused Arraxia. "That is why I served Melchious for years before I turned the tables on him."


    "What if you lose, though?" asked William.


    Arraxia blinked. "I don''t."


    The hallways gave way, and they emerged out into a city. It reminded William of the city he had seen in Kiyora''s world. Yet, instead of being grown from the roots of trees, it was formed from stone. Yet William could see no sign of mortar. It was as though someone had carved these buildings out of existing stone. There was also floating masonry here or there. He saw one huge chunk fall from the sky. It descended into nothingness and rose again like a leaf blown by a gust of wind.


    The path they were on was a raised one, hugging the buildings. Now that William thought of it, there was no way to know if this was halfway up. There was mist a little way down obscuring the bottom, and there could be ground beneath it or nothing at all.


    The sky was bright green, and William couldn''t see the sun or clouds anywhere. It was unnerving, and he kept his gaze near his feet as they walked. This was for the best since their path proved dangerous at best. Sometimes, they would come to great gaps. These William would have to step around. Other times, the stones floating above them would drop, and he''d have to dodge them or ward them off with his shield.


    Finally, they came to a far too wide gap to jump. There was also no way around it. An entire segment of the walkway had fallen away. Apraxia flew over it while he sheathed his sword and slung his shield over his back.


    Walking to the building wall, he felt it. The stonework here was rough. He could scale this, and at once, he began to do so. He hadn''t gotten far before he started to regret the decision. He''d long ago become experienced in scaling walls and cliffs. He''d done it enough in his old home of Carn Gable. But he''d never been wearing full armor while doing it before. An ordinary person would never have managed it.


    William thanked his heritage for his greater strength. He also cursed that every passing moment was nearly impossible to get through. Finding footholds was hard, and keeping them in all this armor was harder. He felt sweat drip down his brow and soak his garments as he reached the halfway point. He was halfway there. Just a little farther.


    Then, lightning struck the building above him. The top shattered. Vast stones were thrown skyward, falling toward him, and he clung to the wall, praying for the best. A rock hit him on the helmet, and he almost lost his grip. He was slipping backward. Groping unthinkingly, he caught hold of the wall and pulled himself back.


    William wished that had been the end of it. But he had to scale the rest of the way on his own. Finally, he got off the wall and stepped onto the flagstones. Arraxia said nothing. Instead, she turned and walked onward.


    Actually, they said nothing at all about the journey to that city. Time itself seemed a meaningless concept here. Things just happened without any particular place. It was neither cold nor hot. They could have been in this place a day, a year, or a thousand years. No matter how long William doubted, it would seem any different to them. The city around them looked different from the kind of place someone should speak in. Yet, at the same time, the silence was unbearable.


    The buildings grew larger as they walked closer together. Lightning continued to strike, but never over them as it had before. Soon, the buildings were so close that one could reach either side and touch both. The city had become a tunnel leading downwards.


    William felt trapped like he was in a cage that kept getting smaller. The silence was unbearable. "Arraxia," said William. "If Melchious is here, can we defeat him?"


    "Anything is possible, should I will it," mused Arraxia.


    "Would this be the same way you could get me to sell you my soul?" asked William. "Or possible that I might kill myself after looking into the Mirror of Laevian? Or possible that you might succeed in killing me afterward?" It was a relief to have this conversation.


    "My, you enjoy defying me," mused Arraxia. "It is obvious that the being whom I am an incarnation of had some use for you. Thus, it is arranged for your survival. One might say you owe me your life."


    "No, I owe Kiyora and Elranor my life," said William irritatedly. "And even if we accept what you say is true, you were saving me from dangers you put me in in the first place."


    "It was for your good," said the demoness.


    "I disagree," said William. "The scar over my eye pains me to this day."


    "That scar is but a symbol of your power," said Arraxia. "Imagine a world where I never directed the satyrs to ambush that vessel. You would have arrived in Artarq as spineless and directionless as you began. You would likely have been sent back to Carn Gable without proving your worth. You wouldn''t have learned anything. At best, you would have been a tagalong to Raynald.


    "Perhaps you might have grown in time, but it would have been years in the making. Look at your life now, my dear William. You have built temples, slain monsters, written a book, and hardly turned fifteen.


    "What would you have been if not for me?


    "So you see, I am in many ways your benefactor."


    That was pressing the matter too far. "Far from it," said William. "Elranor is my guide, my benefactor. He used you to force me to grow up. You are trying to tempt me away from his path with your lies."


    "Am I lying?" asked Arraxia. "I''ve read your book; I found it quite an entertaining chronicle of my rise to power. You''re fascinated by me. All the hollow bravado doesn''t change the truth written in your words."


    "I am not fascinated by you!" snapped William. "What you misread was a pity for a delusion animal."


    "Oh?" asked Arraxia, turning around to cup his cheek. It felt predatory. "You''ve enjoyed our verbal sparring as much I have. And weren''t you quick to agree to this, even knowing it would benefit my plans?"


    "I had few options," noted William, shoving her claw away.


    "Helping my master''s enemies so I can survive sounds reasonable," said Arraxia. "But I was under the impression that you held yourself to a higher standard."


    "This has been too easy," said William, looking to change the subject.


    "Hmm?" asked Arraxia.


    "This," said William. "We''ve been walking into the heart of the temple, and we haven''t run into anything. Why hasn''t something tried to stop us?"


    "Well, Melchious was here first," mused Arraxia. "I suspect he passed all the tests for us. It will make it all the more satisfying to crush him."


    "Well, I don''t see him anywhere," said William.


    The path opened into a vast, circular chamber open to the sky. At the very center of it was a brilliant red flame, shooting light upwards into the air. William averted his gaze from the brilliance of it. Then, listening to its crackle, he heard screaming ¡ª screams of fear, agony, pain, and death. An axe was at the center of the flame, though he could make little out of it.


    "Do you think this is the beacon?" asked Arraxia.


    "Well, the pillar of unholy light and the screams of tormented souls might be a sign," mused William.


    "Yes, and they seem to be blocking my path to the Axe of Fortenex," said Arraxia. "Would you be so kind as to deal with this, dear?"


    "But of course, milady. What could make me think we might be at cross purposes?" asked William. "Stand by the far wall where I can see you first."


    The demoness obeyed, and William removed his harp. Strangely, it did not glow as brightly as it once had. He supposed it made sense; he''d been playing it a lot. He''d always hated music, though, despised even the most beautiful symphony. The screams of his enemies were far preferable.


    What? Why was he thinking that?


    William began to play the harp, setting his will against the beacon. Yet, instead of facing resistance, he passed right on into the center of it. The beacon accepted his presence as though he was its master. But why would it? Melchious had created it, hadn''t it?


    "So that''s who I am..." he heard himself murmur.


    The beacon died. And in its place was the Axe of Fortenex. It was magnificent, a two-handed axe made of red steel, as red as blood. It had an edge sharp enough to cut through the skulls of thousands. It was greater than anything he had seen before. No, that wasn''t right; he had seen it before. Long ago, and now he was reclaiming it.


    Yet, first, things had to take their course.


    Sure enough, that miserable demoness was walking forward to take it as though she had been born for it. What lunacy. She would never have amounted to anything without him. He could scarcely contain his fury as she grabbed the axe without ceremony and flourished it.


    "Well, you have a remarkable talent for advancing my goals," said the wretched creature. "I thought you might end up being someone else''s pawn today. Still, I''m surprised. Nothing. No trap. Nothing. I''m honestly rather disappointed in Father-"


    "Not as disappointed in you as I was," William heard himself say.


    Arraxia barely had time to move before William drove his blade into her back. She looked back and saw him, the real him unhindered by flesh and blood, and she knew fear. He could almost taste it.


    She said his name.


    "Melchious."

 Chapter 98 - Twenty-six: The Dark Dreamer

    It was a moment Melchious would treasure.


    He made it better by twisting the blade in her back before tearing out the sword and grabbing her by the tail. He swung her against the wall, and her bones made a very satisfying crack.


    However, Arraxia had never been one to give up. Arraxia? Why was he thinking of her by that name? Of course, he knew her true name, yet it would not come to mind.


    In his hesitation, she arose and rushed at him. He brought around one fist and struck her across the face. The blow sent her tumbling head over heels to land on the ground. Satisfied for the moment, Melchous sheathed his sword.


    "Did you think that paltry mirror would be sufficient to stop me?" he asked.


    "It should have," said Arraxia. "I saw all of my atrocities, everything I''d done from a rational perspective, and it nearly broke me. And you''ve had a very creative career. How are you alive?"


    "You are correct that gazing into the Mirror of Laevian destroyed my mind," said Melchious. "And I was indisposed for a time. Yet I was more than prepared for the possibility of such an assault and took precautions.


    "I have been breaking off fragments of my spirit for many years. Laughing Wraith was one such entity. Formed from my will, he enacted my plans without any knowledge and allowed me to reach into other worlds. Each time he was killed, that aspect of my personality was restored and broken off again. The paladin whose form I now inhabit was much like him." He looked at his hands, very human hands. "Ironically, you seem to hold him in such affection, but the truth is that William Gabriel never truly existed. I only thought I was him.


    "When I made my deal with his father all those years ago, I implanted a piece of my soul into him. That piece was meant to enter into the wife of the Duke of Brisgald. It would give me control over that region on the borders of my realm.


    "Unfortunately, Duke Vanion manipulated my good intentions for his gain. My avatar was instead born to that harlot from Themious. I''ve spent fourteen years as a Gabriel. Pretending to value all life." He grabbed the axe and spun it around. "Yet my will was still able to work through William, enacting my will even as Elranor enacted his. With the power of the Goldenwood Harp, I could break into Fortenex''s domain. Thus I was able to retrieve that which is rightfully mine. Yet, without being physically present, I could not retrieve the Axe. Thus I made other arrangements. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I enhanced the power of Karasush''s call, luring far more raishans to this world than had been planned. Once that happened, it was inevitable that Vanion would become involved. And with my recent exploits, I hoped to become part of the expedition." He tested the Axe of Fortenex''s weight. It was just as he remembered it; it was he who had changed. A smile came to his face as he remembered the armies he had slaughtered with this weapon. "Now, it is time I paid you back with a small measure of the suffering you inflicted on me."


    He turned.


    Arraxia was gone. She had slipped away while he was talking. Melchious didn''t think her smart enough to know when she was beaten, but he supposed even she could see that much. "Excellent strategy. I will deal with you later."


    He looked at the weapon in his hands. Such beautiful craftsmanship, it would reap many lives. Long had he labored in another life to earn the right to wield this weapon. Now with the devastation wrought by his machinations, he had proven himself a second time.


    The Axe of Fortenex thirsted for blood. The more death and misery surrounded it, the stronger it became. He needs now only a final bloody orgy to unlock its real power. Then he would deal with Father for his treachery.


    Father? Why should he think of him so? Some remnant of William''s old mannerisms, no doubt.


    Melchious passed from the temple and soon emerged on that same hill. He looked at the village far below. He would begin his sacrifices with them and slaughter them all, down to the last man, woman, and child.


    Yet something held him back.


    He wasn''t quite sure what it was. Some remnant of the paladin''s mind? Some revenant of that antiquated morality that possessed mortals. Or more likely, the part of Elranor within him. Then again, the Axe of Fortenex was tied to Fortenex. It would not please the demon lord for Melchious to kill all his minions.


    Oh well. He could improvise.


    "Lord Melchious, have events proceeded as planned?" asked Karasush behind him.


    Ah, yes, the pawn. He could be of further use. Melchious drew out the sword by his side. Many red runes were along the blade''s center, runes of observation. Rusara could see everything that was happening. Perhaps there was a means by which he could use this. He sheathed the blade.


    "Not entirely," said Melchious. "The cursed traitor managed to slip away. Yet not before breaking the seal and delivering the Axe of Fortenex into my hands. Now I have everything I need to conquer this place."


    "With respect, Melchious, Raynald, and Rusara have proven quite formidable," said Karasush.


    "Yes. Many have been destroyed," mused Melchious. "However, in doing so, they have divided their forces. And many more raishans have dispersed throughout the land. Their numbers have been bolstered with the souls of innumerable mortals they captured.


    "Even as we speak, a new generation of my pets arises in dozens of caves. They have but defeated my vanguard," He raised the Axe of Fortenex and channeled his power. "Now, my minions! Come to me!"


    At his command, a bolt of red light shot into the air. As Melchious poured forth his will into the land, he felt them. Innumerable thousands were coming to him as they spoke, and Rusara sensed it.


    The raishans were coming in the tens of thousands toward Melchious. Their bloodlust and hunger were endearing. It was only a shame that he''d done so much damage to them while unaware of his true nature.


    Now the question was: Would they act as Melchious had predicted?


    He sent out raishans to scout Khasmir. Within hours he saw that the main army had rallied at Kynn, drawing back their primary forces. No doubt, they hoped to resist the siege. He noticed messengers being sent to the Calishans. Had an alliance been arranged? So much, the better.


    "Events proceed as hoped," said Melchious to Karasush as time passed. "The loss of Raynald and Rusara will destroy the greater part of Vanion''s power. His enemies at court will seize upon this defeat. Combined with his truce with Baltoth, to see to it that he loses Artarq. No doubt, Andoa will replace him with someone less competent.


    "A generation from now the population of Khasmir will have been replenished. Replenished with servants of Fortenex and myself. The defenses will have fallen into ruin, and Baltoth will seek to press his claim. "It is then we will strike."


    "As you say, Lord Melchious," said Karasush.


    What was Fortenex doing during all of this? It surprised Melchious how inactive he had been. He''d been expecting the demon lord to say or do something. Yet he seemed perfectly content for Melchious to regain the axe. That seemed odd to Melchious, given how they had parted ways before. A smile came to his face as he looked at his weapon.


    Truly magnificent.


    "Now, my hosts are gathering as we speak," he said. "I will lead them myself."


    Yes, he hesitated again. Something held him back. What was happening? Why was he feeling so strange? This reluctance that washed over him made each step taken harder than the last. No matter. Whatever remained of William Gabriel was but a shattered remnant.


    With a spell, Melchious summoned to him his wings that sprouted from his back. They were like those of a dove, as white as snow. He rose into the air and flew over the highlands. Below him, he could see his armies mustering. Chattering and screeching filled the valleys as raishans poured from their caves. All were assembling to serve Melchious.


    By the time the sun began to set, raishans were all here. It was time for war.


    Sending his will coursing through the raishans, Melchious led them forward toward Kynn. By his will, he urged them forward. His armies covered the hills, and he could sense the fear of his enemies. Several villages that were in the way of his forces were destroyed. Those who would not flee were butchered like the sheep they were.


    He could see that the Calishans were marching to support Kynn. He would get there first, however. He doubted that the assault would be a success. His raishans would cause much carnage and kill many. Yet they would be annihilated.


    It was fortunate that he did not need to gain victory to win.


    Soon he could see Kynn with his own eyes. He landed on a ledge with the sun behind him and motioned with the axe. His minions rushed forward with slavering fury. Arrows fell upon the raishans, killing many, but there were always more. They scaled up the hill, clambering over the corpses of their fallen wherever they walked.


    Great bursts of flame appeared among the raishans. It killed them by the hundreds as they began to scale the walls like spiders. Spearmen stabbed down at them, driving them off. Again and again, they rushed against the barrier, and each time failed. Blood soaked the ground. Yet it was hardly sufficient for Melchious'' preference. He saw Raynald fighting on the walls, carving down everything which scaled the wall.


    Yet soon, the unending tide began to creep onto the walls. A melee was ensuing, and the real fun began. A desperate stalemate happened as raishan and mortal tore each other to pieces. Melchious watched in gladness. Brothers, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, and sisters were all torn to bits. Many widows and orphans would lament this day.


    He looked forward to hearing their wails.


    Yet thinking that seemed unnatural. William had hated to see others suffer. Yet why should he care about that?


    Because he wasn''t acting. Melchious had the Axe of Fortenex. Why had he not rushed to battle? Something was wrong. He had always been eager to seek carnage. His personal enjoyment of blood and death was a legend.


    So why was he just standing here, watching the fun?


    Another inferno made him aware of just how much damage Rusara was doing to his raishans. He did not lament their deaths. These creatures existed to die for him and had they survived, he would still have disposed of them. Yet killing Rusara would surely be a glorious accomplishment. It would also be an excellent beginning to his revenge against Vanion.


    Flying high into the air, he looked over the battle. The combat was becoming ever more bloody. His raishans were endless. By his will, he had been breeding an army of raishans for months, summoning the creatures all over. Now all the caves and pits of Khasmir were empty, and it showed.


    And there was Rusara, snapping her fingers again and again. Each time more of his minions were consumed. Raising his axe, he finally felt the thirst for blood coming to him. She would be a fitting sacrifice to Fortenex.


    Swooping downward, he brought his axe toward the back of her head.


    Yet she ducked, and the blade passed over her. Again she snapped her fingers, and Melchious was hit head-on with a burst of fire. The heat was terrible, and he spun backward, landing and drawing in his wings to become human once more.


    Rusara took a ready stance as she saw him. Or who she had thought him to be. Would she stare in shock at who had tried to strike her? Question why the boy who had been like a son to her was seeking her life? Cry out in horror as she saw what had happened.


    She snapped her fingers again, and Melchious narrowed, avoided being burned alive. This was something less of a reaction than he had anticipated. Soon he had no time to think as bolt after bolt of fire was thrown at him. It wasn''t difficult, but it was irritating.


    Here he had turned one of the things most precious to her against her! Yet this harlot didn''t even have a reaction!


    Angered, he surged forward and brought his axe down on her. Yet she dodged and weaved before drawing out a long knife and slashing at his throat. Stepping back, Melchious took a stance as they faced each other down.


    "I''m surprised at you," he said. "You are quick to kill a boy you have known since he was a child."


    "I have known many children," said Rusara. "Many of them are old now. I will not give you the satisfaction of trying to reach what does not exist."


    "Yes, I forgot how cold-blooded you were." mused Melchious. "William''s memories are tinged with a sort of nostalgia. One that makes it difficult to remember."


    "Die," said Rusara.


    She snapped her fingers again, and Melchious raised the axe. The inferno burned around him, hotter than any Rusara had summoned before. It would have killed anyone else. But Melchious merely channeled the power of Fortenex, and it faded.


    Surging forward, Melchious brought around his axe. Rusara stepped back too late, and everything slowed down. He was going to kill her. Kill Rusara, the woman who had been like a mother to him, no to William.


    Before he knew what had happened, he had turned the axe. The flat struck Rusara along the side of the head. She fell backward, unconscious. This was ridiculous! He would finish her where she lay!


    Raising the axe, he brought it down-


    Something hit him. Melchious was thrown from the wall. Falling downward, he resummoned his wings and gained lift. He righted himself as he was about to hit the ground and flew high. Then he saw her. Arraxia was flying in the air, clutching a bolt of violet fire. She hurled it, but he raised a hand, dissipating it before it could reach him.


    Coming to a halt, Melchious glanced at the battle. Without Rusara, the raishans were gaining a great deal of territory. Very soon, they would overwhelm the defenses of Kynn if the Calishans arrived later. He was interested in something other than who won this combat. Either one would suit his purposes. Instead, he regarded Arraxia as she flew up to face him.


    "Well, that is irritating." mused Arraxia. "It seems I shall have to play the role of the insufferably whiney damsel, pleading with her loved one to-"


    Melchious hurled the axe, and it spun toward Arraxia. She dove low to avoid being beheaded. The axe spun away before returning to Melchious'' hand. She surged upward toward him and veered away at the last minute.


    "My dear William," said Arraxia, "I do hope you can realize when you are being duped, are you not?"


    "You waste your time, fool," said Melchious. "William never existed."


    "I beg to differ," said Arraxia. "I know you Melchious. I know that you could never bear to have the sort of insufferable compassion William does. You''ve merely suppressed his will and are keeping it down by convincing him that he has none."


    "Silence!" How dare she? Melchious unleashed a flurry of strikes at her. Yet something was slowing his blows, and she could avoid them narrowly.


    "Oh, you are," mused Arraxia. "Good, that was just me guessing." She halted before him in mid-air. "You see, I was thinking over all this, and one of the immutable laws of the universe occurred to me. You cannot destroy a soul.


    "You can change a soul.


    "You can dominate a soul. You can break off pieces of a soul to create a new one, but destroying one is impossible.


    "And absorbing a soul which has its uttermost source in you is likewise impossible. This is precisely why we demons take mortal consorts. Coupling with a mortal allows us to create offspring without dividing ourselves."


    "Don''t tell me what I already know!" roared Melchious. "I was the one who taught you all this!"


    "Of course you were. And I am merely instructing dear William in the details," said Arraxia. "What he does with the information is entirely his business."


    "William was but a mask!" snarled Melchious. He was, wasn''t he?


    "Really? A moment ago, I thought you said he didn''t exist?" said Arraxia. "It was all very clever, Melchious. But I think I''ve already made my point."


    Her point? What point could she be trying to make! He was Melchious! He slaughtered thousands without remorse! Worlds had been laid to waste by his hands! Entire civilizations purged for the sake of his amusement! And yet he was restrained; something kept holding him back. Was it possible that some part of the boy survived?


    Yet, if that were the case, he would have known about it. Unless, unless his control was not total. His will had not fully manifested itself. In which case, the boy-


    No, he, he could fight it. He could stop this. He felt his spirit at war with another, one foreign to him, and he saw the part which his enemy had had in him. He would not allow this! He would not be held back-


    -by this miserable child!


    -by this monster!


    Where once their thoughts had been combined now, they were at war. William tore himself away from the thing within him, fighting against the control. It all happened in a moment.


    It was a moment Arraxia did not waste. She struck him with her tail, sending him falling to earth. Melchious narrowly snatched control to catch himself and ward off her next assault. Yet William pressed against him, tearing at his mind.


    He would not allow this! He would not let this happen!


    The power of Elranor welled up within William, and Melchious screamed. There was a light around them, brighter and brighter, and then the spirit of Melchious fled out of him. The wings which had come from his back withered and fell away. William collapsed against the earth. The Axe of Fortenex clattered to the ground next to him.


    Around him, he saw the carnage. The raishans had gotten over the walls now. There was fighting in the courtyards. Little by little, the defense was being driven in. It was only a matter of time now. He had to act.


    William tried to rise, but before he could, Arraxia descended. One clawed foot slammed him downwards as her tail lashed around the Axe of Fortenex. Raising it, she brought it down toward him. Yet when the blade hit his helmet, it glanced off. It didn''t even feel like a weapon; it was like a feather had been slapped against his face.


    "What?" said Arraxia. "This is absurd! I have more than proven myself! Why shouldn''t I be able to execute him?!" Her tail flicked. "No matter, I''ll find some more direct way to do it." And she raised her tail as if to plunge the end into his throat.


    Then there was a roar, and Massacre leaped over the walls. The beast descended upon Arraxia, bowling her over. Chimera and demoness rolled in the dirt, claws and teeth tearing at each other. Massacre breathed her fire down onto the demoness. Yet the fire was quenched as her tail wrapped around the dragon head and stabbed the blade into it. Arraxia kicked her off, drawing out her tail and holding it tenderly. For a moment, she and Massacre faced one another. Then she flew into the air and began to fly away, the Axe of Fortenex still clutched in one hand.


    William had had enough. Staggering to his feet, he rushed after her and grabbed her by the tail. Hauling backward, he spun her body around and sent her flying towards the wall. Arraxia crashed against it, and William drew his sword to rush toward her.


    He''d kill her and finish this.


    He didn''t feel any real hatred for her. He didn''t feel anything else either; there was a sort of void where he should feel something regarding her. He tried not to think of it as he bashed her down with his shield. Then that damn tail smashed him aside. He could feel the blade scraping against his armor, and as he tried to rise, it hit him again.


    He slashed at it, and she screamed as she drew it back. The Axe of Fortenex fell from her hands as she grabbed her cut appendage. Leaping into the air she smashed him down and flew away as fast as she could. And William realized why.


    The raishans were being finished off around him. But the sound of battle could still be heard over the walls. He scaled up the stairs and looked down from the battlements. Assembled in the fields before them were the hosts of Calisha.

 Chapter 99 - Twenty-seven: Tragedy and Resolution

    When he first arrived, the Calishans numbered at least as many as Raynald had brought from Artarq. All of them were fresh and bore spear and shield with great fortitude. So much the better. They were fighting raishans, more raishans than William had ever seen before. They were crawling all over the walls like giant insects. He had seen them, but he''d been under Melchious'' sway, so it was all a blur now. Still, more were coming out of the hills to join in, but the Calishan battleline was holding. Their long spears slew many as arrows were fired over the lines with expert finesse. William wondered if there were any Calishan immortals among them. It did not seem so.


    Arrows filled the sky, blotting out the sun as they showered the monsters. There must have been other holy men at work as well because the bodies of the raishans were fading away. It left behind only the blood. It was a breathtaking spectacle, but William knew he didn''t have time to watch it. It came back to him where he was and what he was doing.


    Where was Felix? And Tanith and Kusher? And Rusara, was she hurt? He didn''t see any of them around here, just unfamiliar satyrs and men.


    Making his way quickly down the steps, he picked up the Axe of Fortenex and rushed to where he''d seen Rusara before. He found Raynald standing by her. The withered-armed man had his sword planted in the ground before him. He was surrounded by a breathtaking number of raishan corpses and breathing heavily. He took from this that the holy man was not in range of Kynn.


    That meant that there would still be raishans regenerating in nests across Khasmir. William couldn''t worry about this right now.


    "Raynald!" he called. "Raynald is Rusara, alright?"


    "She''s had far worse than this, William," said Raynald. "I''m just glad you managed to throw the bastard out. We were worried that what he was saying was true."


    "You knew?" asked William. "How?"


    "Those runes Rusara put on your sword are designed to keep track of you," said Raynald. "The moment Rusara detected you were gone, she kept watching. That was why we knew Melchious was making his move, and we were able to fall back to Kynn."


    Something hovered at the edge of William''s memory. What was it?


    "What about the Calishans?" asked William. "I didn''t know they had agreed to anything."


    "I sent the Calishan to tell them that if Baltoth didn''t act now, the entire region would be overrun," said Raynald. "Massacre went with him for speed. We probably could have stopped this army alone, but I''d rather they and the Calishans tear each other to pieces."


    "Are we going to sally forth?" asked William.


    "No," said Raynald, sounding perplexed. "Why would we?"


    "The Calishans are fighting the raishans," said William. "They saved us."


    "Yes," said Raynald. "And if they aren''t weakened fighting the raishans, they may decide to finish us off. Still, I suppose we can''t let them be destroyed entirely. Watch Rusara; I''m going to check on their progress. If the Calishans start getting wiped out, we''ll involve ourselves."


    William didn''t like this one bit. If an alliance had been made with the Calishans, it didn''t seem right that they should at least try to help them. Still, it wasn''t his decision to make. Then he looked at the men. Those that weren''t screaming in agony from wounds were slumped against walls. Blood was everywhere, and healers were hurrying to and fro.


    Raynald was bluffing, William realized. They were in no shape to help anyone, and Raynald didn''t want to admit weakness. So he was making up a paranoid story. William kneeled down by Rusara and saw that she had a bloody bruise on her brow where he had hit her. Putting his hand to her head, he healed it as best he could.


    Then he began to walk among the wounded and heal them as well. For all the little good this would do. This took up his time for perhaps an hour as the battle raged. Eventually, he saw Tanith limping toward him. The blonde girl''s leg had a bloody cut, and she supported herself on her shield. Her sword was broken at the hilt, held in one red-stained hand.


    "William, is that you?" asked Tanith in a broken voice. She looked like she had been crying.


    He quickly ran to her and healed her wounds. "Tanith, are you alright?"


    "Kusher is dead," said Tanith. "A raishan cut off his arm from behind, and another tore out his throat. I tried to get to him, but by the time I did... there wasn''t enough to bury. I couldn''t even recognize him! There were too many corpses!" Choked laughter came to her, mixed with sobs.


    Kusher dead. It hit like a thunderbolt. The satyr had not exactly been a close friend, but William had known him. He''d spoken with him many times. Kusher had saved his life several times. And William had brought these the monsters that killed him. No, no, he hadn''t! That had been Melchious'' fault, not his! He refused to accept responsibility for the actions of a demon! He wouldn''t!


    Tanith started to cry again, and he quickly hugged her. The sword fell from her hand, and she grasped him back, shaking visibly. Then William broke the embrace and gripped her by the shoulders.


    "Tanith," said William, "it wasn''t your fault. And we need to move now. Can you bring me to some more wounded? I might be able to save some people."


    Tanith nodded. "Y-yes, I''ll show you the way."


    It was a miserable two hours that passed. The Calishans, as it turned out, did not need help. William set about healing the injured. When the ranks of Calishans grew tired, they withdrew and were replaced by fresh troops. They fought with discipline and skill, which William had never seen in a Harlenorian army.


    During this time, William found himself healing Relg atop the eastern battlements. The satyr leader had lost several fingers in the battle. Though the stumps had been treated, the fingers would not return.


    He looked very bitter as William tried to restore them.


    "It''s no good, you know," said Relg. "Injuries stay when they mean something beyond physical harm. And my brother is dead."


    "He died well," said William. "In battle." It didn''t make it any better.


    "What does it matter how he died?" asked Relg in disgust. "He was torn to shreds, and now I''ll never see him again. He was always pressing for war, seeking to prove himself. Well, he has, and now I''ve lost my right hand.


    "Replacing him will be impossible. How am I to motivate the younger warriors now?"


    William was not sure whether Relg was grieving for a brother or furious at the loss of a valuable war leader. He decided it was both. In the end, he could only restore one of the Chieftain''s fingers.


    As William continued his rounds, he had to conclude that Raynald''s decision had been for the best. Nearly a fourth of the army which had first been assembled outside Kynn all that time ago was dead. More when one counted the reinforcements which had arrived in the following weeks. And of the survivors, there were many wounded.


    They had been in no position to sally forth at all.


    What made it worse was that the battle was still ongoing. From the high places of Kynn, one could see the Calishan army suffering grievous losses. They were fighting valiantly against impossible odds. In some ways, they were even more heroic. Some were facing these monstrosities with knives, their spears having broken.


    William decided after he finished his rounds and approached Raynald. "Raynald, with your permission, I''d like to go to the Calishans and offer my healing services."


    "Why?" asked Raynald. "They have healers of their own."


    "As a sign of goodwill," said William.


    "I have no goodwill for Calishans," said Raynald. "And you shouldn''t either. The world would be better if they were all destroyed. Besides, they might take you hostage."


    "Then you''ll be able to spy on their encampment," said William. And then he stopped as he remembered something. "Melchious knew."


    "What?" said Raynald.


    "Melchious saw the runes on my sword," said William. "He knew he was being spied on. He counted on it. He wanted us all to be here. Why?"


    "Who knows?" asked Raynald. "Melchious likes mass bloodshed. It''s the only thing he and I have in common. No doubt he wanted a final bloody battle to conclude things on."


    William looked out over the field of blood. And then he realized that the blood was disappearing. It faded away from the ground like water falling into the sand. Why?


    "Raynald," said William, "what do you know about the Axe of Fortenex?"


    "William, I don''t care about barbarian gods," said Raynald. "Let alone barbarian demons. Why does it matter?" Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''m thinking," said William, unslinging the axe. The Axe of Fortenex was glowing red. Around it, red beams of light were surging into it, only enhancing its glow. Looking at it made William want to cleave someone''s skull in. Perhaps Raynald''s, he''d been acting far too confident for someone who had almost lost. How William would like to see the blood-


    He shook his head and averted his eyes. The murderous thoughts fell away. "Rusara taught me that it was fueled by blood, growing more powerful the more death surrounded it."


    "Well, that explains it," said Raynald. "Melchious wanted to gain ultimate power by killing a great many people. Melchious is banished, his army is dead, and now we can use the axe instead.


    "At this moment, Rusara reappeared. She was clutching her head, somewhat spoiling the entrance. "That would not be wise."


    "Rusara, glad to see you''re up," said Raynald, sounding a little annoyed and relieved.


    "Are you alright?" asked William. "Did I hurt you?"


    "Melchious failed to do any lasting harm, thanks to you," said Rusara. "William, I feel I need to apologize."


    "Apologize?" asked William. "For what?"


    "I was genuinely trying to kill you," explained Rusara. "It never even occurred to me that you might have been able to break free of Melchious'' control as you did. Really it would have been a mercy to die. If he''d controlled you for any length of time, he would have gradually overwritten your soul. He would have changed you until your soul was little more than a vessel for his dark will.


    "I''d have done the same thing again, to be honest. There is no possible way you could have had the willpower to throw out Melchious on your own. He had help. Or perhaps he was distracted.


    "This bears further thought."


    "Rusara, I''m not sure you understand how an apology works," said Raynald in amusement.


    "It''s alright Raynald, I forgive her," said William, not wanting to deal with the prospect of Rusara as an enemy. "What are we going to do with the axe?"


    "Well, we can hardly destroy it," said Rusara. "It is infused with the will of Fortenex himself and so is quite unbreakable. Worse still, the cursed thing has absorbed the life force of every creature which was killed in this war. I expect we''d all be dead if you hadn''t restrained Melchious from acting on his bloodthirst."


    "I would have killed him," said Raynald.


    "Of course, you would have Raynald. After he had killed the entire army and dealt you a mortal blow," said Rusara. "So we''d all be dead. Give me that damned axe, William. I''ll see about containing its murderous aura." And she snatched it away and began wrapping the axe in white cloth. The cloth must have been enchanted, somehow. Because as it covered the axe, the aura of murder surrounding it faded. "When I next see Vanion, we''ll make plans to deal with this abomination."


    "Lord Raynald, a snowstorm approaches!" called a man.


    They looked up, and sure enough, a great dust cloud came." As men scurried to cover, Raynald sighed. "Really? Just what we needed. More snow."


    Yet even as the snowstorm approached, it condensed smaller and smaller. Finally, it flowed over the walls and landed upon the wall, forming the shape of a familiar masked satyr.


    "Karasush," said William, being sure to hide his contempt.

 Chapter 100 - Twenty-eight: No One is Satisfied

    Karasush bowed politely. ''''Greetings noble lords I-"


    He then ducked as Raynald surged forward and brought round his sword to place it at the satyr''s throat. Relg raised a knife, and everyone drew their weapons. It looked like he would be cut to pieces, but he raised his hands in a panic.


    "I am here under parley and may not be assailed!" cried Karasush.


    "Really?" asked Raynald. "I see no white flag. I assumed you were here to attack us." He sheathed his blade. "Karasush, I know exactly what you have been doing all this time. I see very little reason not to cut your throat and throw your body to the wolves."


    "I understand you have great reason to be angry with me-" said Karasush.


    "Understatement of the century," noted William.


    "I assure you, I only cooperated with Melchious out of fear for my people," said Karasush. "Had I disobeyed him, he would have surely destroyed us."


    "Hmm, interesting," said Raynald. "I''m not sure we care. Relg, Tanith, do we care?"


    "No. No, we do not," said Relg, grasping a spear from a soldier.


    Tanith raised her sword and smiled murderously.


    "As I thought," said Raynald. "Leave Karasush. We''re coming for your people next."


    "If you will but listen to me-" began Karasush.


    "To hell with your-" began Raynald.


    Then Rusara put a hand on Raynald''s shoulder and moved forward. "I apologize for that. We have lost a great many friends, and tempers are running high. Raynald, let us give him a chance to explain himself."


    Raynald paused. "...As you wish."


    "Please understand, my people were on the verge of being wiped out," said Karasush. "I gave him a place in Fortenex''s domain in exchange for his assistance. However, I got more than I bargained for.


    "I am perfectly willing to make amends for the damages caused by our mistakes."


    "Make amends?'' said Relg. "Thousands are dead because of you! My brother is dead because of you! And now you come to us when the battle is already won and claim you desire to make amends?!"


    "The battle is not yet won," said Karasush. "Many of the tormented spirits from which the raishans are formed were not purified. They have returned to many nests to breed new armies. It will take many months for you to find them all, and you will face several more battles in that time.


    "Is that what you want?"


    "What can you do to help?" asked Raynald.


    "I made a point to keep track of where all the raishan nests were created," said Karasush. "Melchious'' minions were instructed not to harm my people. If you spare my people, I can lead you to all of them. This war could be over in a month instead of a year, and many innocent lives were saved.


    "I beg of you to consider it."


    "Very well. We will consider it," said Relg. "Guards, escort Karasush to a cell while we discuss the matter. There are to be no accidents."


    "As you wish," said one of the guards.


    "No," said Raynald in the voice you never want to disobey. "Karasush, we will discuss this matter ourselves. For now, we will tolerate your presence."


    "Of course," Karasush turned and walked some distance away.


    They cleared that section of the wall of everyone save for a select few officers. Tanith, William, Relg, Rusara, and Raynald were all there. William bitterly wished Felix were here, but he''d seen neither heads or tails of him. He hoped he was alright.


    "That was discourteous," said Raynald. "And a violation of parley."


    "You went at him with a sword," noted Relg.


    "That was before he was officially under parley," noted Raynald.


    "Look around you, Raynald!" said Relg. "This entire war is a violation! We have a right to his head! The least we should do is ensure he isn''t made comfortable while awaiting our judgment!"


    "Calm yourself Relg," said Rusara. "These decisions must be made with a cool head. Karasush offers us valuable information in exchange for mercy. I think we should grant it."


    "I think we should ask for more," said Raynald. "He is in no position to bargain with us."


    "Actually, he is," said Rusara. "If we wipe out his people, his natural ally is the Calishans. If he goes to them, we could have another war. And we aren''t in a position to fight one.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    "Moreover, his people assisted Laughing Wraith in their plans. And Korasus sounds very similar to Karasush as names go."


    "Are you suggesting they are the same person?" asked Raynald. "Then, he is already working with the Calishans."


    "No," said Rusara, "he may very well have been threatened by Melchious even then. Either he is a scheming monster or a man whose plans have spiraled out of control."


    "I find monster more likely," said Relg.


    "Why don''t we just agree to his terms, wipe out the raishans, and then kill his entire clan anyway?" asked Tanith.


    There were murmurs of agreement.


    "Tanith, I''m ashamed that one of my students would suggest such a travesty!" snapped Raynald. "We are knights of Harlenor, not cutthroats! Our word is our bond! To promise mercy and then betray that promise is simple murder, and I won''t hear any more of it!"


    Tanith flinched and bowed her head. "Forgive me, Lord Raynald."


    "I demand a weregild," said Relg suddenly.


    "Hmm?" said Raynald.


    "A weregild. Payment for every member of my clan and my ally''s clans who died," said Relg. "They are to all be considered murderers. I will not accept anything less."


    "That seems reasonable to me," mused Rusara. "For our part, we could demand he honor his side of his bargain with William and pay tribute to Antion."


    "Why would he agree to that?" asked Raynald. "The cost would be massive."


    "It would benefit him as well as us," noted Rusara. "We''d have an obligation to defend him if someone invaded him, and we''d get tribute."


    "Would he even be able to afford any of this?" asked William.


    "I expect he can," said Relg. "With all the people fleeing their homes, he has had ample opportunity to loot their houses. That is what I would do."


    "This may work," said Rusara. "If all goes as planned, we will unify all of Khasmir under Antion''s standard. We may even establish peace."


    "Peace of a graveyard, perhaps," muttered Relg.


    "Tanith," said Rusara, "go get Karasush. William, leave us."


    "But-" began William.


    "Now," said Rusara.


    "Yes," said William before departing. They probably were afraid Melchious might eavesdrop.


    He wandered the battlefield as corpses were cleared away and lined up in many lines. Cloths had been put over them. Some of the bodies had been so torn up that there was no recognizing of them. From the looks of things, the satyrs gathered sticks to burn the bodies. Funeral rites were being performed with alcohol and dancing.


    Where was Felix? He hadn''t been killed, had he? William prayed he hadn''t.


    Then there was a flash, and Kiyora appeared. "Okay, I''m back."


    "Kiyora?" said William. He wanted to ask, ''Where have you been?'' But he already knew the answer. "I''m glad to see you."


    "Yeah, I''m glad to see you too," said Kiyora. "I could use a friendly face. So what is going on here?"


    "Raynald and Rusara are negotiating the end to this conflict," said William. "I assume by your presence that the raishans are more or less beaten."


    "How should I know?" asked Kiyora. "I haven''t been able to get here for weeks."


    "Right, well, I trust all is well in your world?" said William.


    "Yeah, I wish," said Kiyora. "I saved the city, and my family is repaying me by trying to marry me off to some guy I''ve never met."


    Kiyora was getting married? That was good news, he supposed, provided it was a good match. Though she didn''t seem happy, so perhaps it wasn''t. "That is unfortunate. Is it a favorable match?"


    "What did I just say?" asked Kiyora. "I''ve never met the guy!"


    Sometimes William just didn''t understand her. "Well, yes, but that isn''t relevant to the question."


    "Right, whatever. No, it''s not favorable," said Kiyora. "So, I put myself into a coma, and I''m negotiating with Alchara to cancel the thing."


    "You mean to enforce your will on a god?" asked William.


    "Well, I am one myself," said Kiyora.


    "Yes, but Alchara is a greater god," said William. "I doubt you''ll have much luck." He wasn''t feeling up to this bickering. He was just going through the motions.


    "Says you," scoffed Kiyora. "Your dad has arranged a meeting with her and everything. It''s supposed to take place a week from now."


    "Father must have some kind of plan then," mused William.


    Kiyora bit her lip and gave him a look. "Wait, so you doubt me, the Dreaming Goddess, but you think your mortal father is capable of it?"


    "Well, yes," said William. "Father is much smarter than you."


    "Harsh," said Kiyora. "So, what''s with the axe?"


    William was reminded of the unholy weapon slung over his back. He brought it back around and tested the weight. "Oh, this? This is an unholy artifact of unfathomable power. Melchious intended to use for his ends but which I now possess. I threw him from my mind; it is a long story. Can we go over it later?"


    "Sure," said Kiyora. "So, what''s going to happen now?"


    "Now?" asked William. "Well, I imagine there will be a long, boring series of negotiations. Nobody will get what they want. Though everyone will get something." He paused. "Father will probably end up negotiating the details from Artarq. Karasush will go there sooner or later. Then I expect we''ll all cooperate in a lengthy campaign against the raishans."


    "Nothing will really be solved, thousands will be dead, and Melchious will laugh."


    "Wow, you''ve got a cheery outlook," said Kiyora.


    "You can''t win against demons," said William with a shrug. "They''d throw away everything they own as long as they cause a proportionate amount of misery to go with it."


    "Is this from personal experience?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes and no," admitted William. "Laughing Wraith was formed from a portion of Melchious''s soul. Or something along those lines."


    "What?" asked Kiyora. "But then why would Melchious summon himself?"


    "The portion that became Laughing Wraith was summoned into your world. Then summoned from there," said William. "It probably had a degree of, to be honest. I certainly do."


    "You?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes, it turns out my soul was also formed from a fragment of Melchious'' spirit," said William.


    "So you''re a demon?" asked Kiyora.


    "No, I''m a human," said William. "My race is merely the body I inhabit. It just means that Melchious could possess me without any kind of unholy ceremony. But that isn''t an issue anymore; I drove him out."


    "Okay, so does that make you and Laughing Wraith brothers?" asked Kiyora.


    "No," said William. "Family is a matter of the physical realm. Who you are related to by blood. Souls don''t have those same connections. Besides, all souls ultimately have the same uttermost source. The Soul Event Horizon."


    "Which is?" asked Kiyora. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Something very complicated. It is a sort of gate at the center of the cosmos," said William. "The first souls came from it. And any soul that enters it is drawn into it and cannot escape. Or perhaps doesn''t want to escape."


    "Like a black hole?" guessed Kiyora.


    "What in Elranor''s name is a black hole?" asked William.


    "It''s a region of space with so much gravity that no matter or radiation can escape it," said Kiyora.


    "I see," said William. "That explains everything. What is matter? What is gravity? And what is radiation?"


    "You know what, I think maybe we should drop the subject," said Kiyora. "Are you alright?"


    "Well, one of my friends is dead," said William.


    Kiyora''s eyes widened. "Felix?"


    "No, another one," said William. "You never met him. I don''t think it has really set in yet."


    "I''m sorry," said Kiyora. "So, what will you do now?"


    William thought about it for a moment. "I just want to go home, to be honest."


    "You and me both," said Kiyora.


    It would be a long journey home.

 Chapter 101 - Twenty-nine: A Bargain Struck

    Estimates of the death toll were challenging to calculate in Khasmir. So many isolated villages were attacked. Many who survived had left it with scars and injuries, and most had lost at least one friend. In the Duke''s own, at least five thousand of the Artarqian militias had been killed. Though Raynald guessed it was higher at seven thousand. Up to three thousand Harlenorians were slain, but the number was distorted. Many new waves of adventurers had come in; some had been less disciplined than House Gabriel. The satyrs had lost many more.


    King Relg''s personal forces had been nearly cut in half. And that did not account for the many villages throughout Khasmir. Some had been wiped out, and others abandoned when the situations deteriorated.


    This was not even accounting for the casualties suffered by Calishans. That which had been almost as bad. Most of the Calishan army were armed, much like the Artarqians, and the battle had been gruesome for them. With Khasmirian guides, Princes Ashinin had won a string of victories. Yet Melchious took a toll on each one. Raynald, at least ten thousand of their number slain over a few months.


    About the only person to emerge unscathed were the Dust Elves. They had been assigned to guard supply routes. So much relied on them, after all.


    And Kusher was dead.


    William just wanted to get away from this place. William''s wish was granted more quickly than he would have expected. Raynald gave him a message to deliver and sent him back to Arsheen with Kiyora. It had been so sudden, as though no one wanted him around anymore.


    He and Kiyora emerged into the gardens of Arsheen. Father was sitting at a table reading many letters while sipping some tea with one hand. He did not look up. "William, you return."


    "Yes," said William. "Rusara ordered me to report to you. She says the campaign is going well and expects a full victory within a few months. They are now cooperating with the Calishans to hunt down the remaining raishans."


    "And why are you here?" asked Vanion.


    How to say that William felt Raynald and Rusara did not want him around? "I requested to be the one to bear the message. Raynald granted my request."


    "You seem somewhat unsteady," noted Father, setting down his parchment.


    "There was no glory in this war," said William. "A lot of people died fighting what amounted to animals." He offered the report from Raynald.


    "Still, without their sacrifices, things would have gone badly," mused Father, taking it. "A death in battle is only a waste when it has no meaning. In this circumstance, it did." He paused and looked up. "I was just about to meet with Queen Alchara within the hour.


    "Perhaps you will sit in on it?"


    "If you wish it of me.'' said William as they took their seats across from him. "How is Mother doing?"


    "Azgora is doing well," said Father. "Irritable. I am told she will likely give birth soon. The matter is of no present relevance, however."


    "That''s not something a husband should say," said Kiyora.


    "Azgora would kill me herself if I fawned over her," said Vanion. "So, I shall not."


    "Right, um, Duke Vanion?" said Kiyora.


    "Yes?" asked Vanion.


    "How exactly will you convince Alchara not to marry me off?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''m not sure," admitted Vanion. "The point of this matter is to establish a dialogue. Once that is done, much may be accomplished."


    At that moment, a beam of light shot down from above. It widened and glowed brighter and brighter before suddenly fading away. There stood Alchara, as radiant as the sun. She looked mildly annoyed. "You have a great deal of nerve requesting a meeting with a goddess, Duke Vanion."


    "Alchara, you appear as radiant as ever," said Vanion. "However, you appear to have misunderstood. I am here on Kiyora''s behalf rather than my own."


    "Save your flattery," said Alchara. "You have always held the gods in contempt behind your respectful facade."


    Vanion''s eyes narrowed. "Very well, I shall dispense with idle pleasantries. What will it take for you to break off this arranged marriage?"


    "First, I should know your interest in the matter," said Alchara. "What business is it of yours what matches I make of my creatures in my world?"


    "Queen Kiyora has been of great service to my house," said Vanion. "It has always been my view that one should repay good deeds in kind. She requested I intercede on her behalf. So here I am."


    Alchara looked at Vanion long and hard. Even though she wasn''t looking at him, William felt suddenly inferior. What were they to this creature? They were little compared to the innate beauty of elves and less to Alchara. It was presumptuous for his father even to consider this. Of course, Father held her gaze steady and unblinking. He didn''t look at all concerned. After a moment, he sipped his tea.


    "I see your thoughts Vanion, and I know your designs," said Alchara. "However, there is nothing you have that I''d want." Her gaze fell on William, and he shifted nervously. Then she turned her eyes away. sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Truly?" asked Vanion, "I am a very powerful man in the court of Antion. It is well within my power to see the favorable treatment of the elves. I have taken steps in that direction already."


    "That much is true, I suppose." mused Alchara. "Though it hardly outweighs the atrocities of your ancestors. Yet it is of small value compared to what I may gain by what I am doing now."


    "Name your price," said Vanion.


    Alchara paused, considering it for a long time. "I will break off the marriage in exchange for the submission of the Nakmar."


    "That is not within my power," said Vanion.


    "Which is why I was not asking it of you, human," said Alchara. "Kiyora, what you are asking of me may set back my plans by many years and bring harm to elves on many worlds. If you were to help me claim new lands of the high elves, it might be a different matter."


    "What do you mean?" said Kiyora.


    "The high elves lived in Seathorius for tens of thousands of years. Then the Elranor drove them to the brink of oblivion," said Alchara. "Seathorius is theirs by right, as is all of Harlenor.


    However, I am not Elranor. I will not exterminate a species capable of good or drive them away just to press my claim. Your Nakmar makes many beautiful things and has many virtues.


    "The same cannot be said of the satyrs."


    "What do you mean?" asked Kiyora.


    "Let us make an alliance," said Alchara. "If we cooperate, that cursed demoness cannot stand against us. Let our two peoples unite and descend on the satyrs. We will put every one of their wretched race to the sword and cast down their fortresses.


    "Then, with the land freed for use, we may divide it between our two peoples. If you help me with this, I will gladly accept Duke Vanion''s offer. And both our peoples will benefit."


    "You''re talking about exterminating an entire race!" said William.


    "You have seen them for what they are," said Alchara. "Cannibals. Blood drinkers. Murderers. Surely you cannot defend such a race?"


    "I can''t defend a person like that!" said William. "But I''ve met many satyrs. Few were pleasant company, but they have virtues like any other species. In time they could be turned away from what they are."


    "Perhaps," said Alchara, "many things may happen in time. That does not mean they will. The population of high elves is growing. So is that of the Nakmar and the Satyrs as well. Another war is inevitable.


    "So if we must choose someone to be destroyed, let us choose the evil one presently. And not sacrifice the good for what might one day come to pass."


    Kiyora paused for only a moment. She couldn''t be considering this, could she? Yes, Alchara was radiantly beautiful and far wiser, but that didn''t change this way. "Kiyora, what she is suggesting... it is wrong," said William. "Don''t do this."


    "Was it wrong when Anoa the Butcher put my cities to the torch?!" cried Alchara, glowing so brightly that William was forced to avert his eyes. "Was it wrong when civilizations which had stood for millennia were burned to the ground! Its people made vagabonds!"


    "Of course it was," said Father, hands clasped together. "And were I in the mood for an argument, I should point out that you were far from blameless? But that was long ago. We have only control over this moment.


    "Calm yourself, milady. And allow Kiyora to make her choice."


    Alchara looked to Vanion, and he met her gaze. The two looked at each other long and hard. Kiyora remained silent. "No," she said at last. "I''m not going to commit genocide. Not even on something as horrible as the satyrs."


    "Well then, there is very little to discuss," said Alchara. "I suppose it will be a nice wedding."


    William realized he had to act soon. Oddly enough, he found his hand running over the Goldenwood Harp. What was it Kusher had said? It was holding him back?


    The harp was important to him. It was a mark of pride. But he could see Kiyora looked like she was about to cry. Maybe it didn''t make sense to him, but her world was different. And he wasn''t going to let this happen.


    "So if no one else has an offer-" began Alchara.


    "What about this?" asked William, showing the harp.


    Alchara looked up without surprise. "My old harp? That is mine, by right, to begin with.


    "Give it to me.''"


    The command rang through his head, and he took a step forward. He found his hands reaching forward to offer it and his knees almost falling into a kneel. Mustering his will, he drew it back. He''d had a lot of practice resisting the compulsions of gods and demons. "It has not been held by one of your subjects for thousands of years. If you leave Kiyora alone and let her choose her destiny without your interference, I will give it to you."


    Alchara paused as if considering. Yet William suspected she had known of this and wanted him to make the offer. "Now, that is something worth delaying my plans for. Very well, give it to me, and I will ensure that Kiyora can marry whomever she so desires. I''m certain she''ll make a poor choice, but then that is my fault for not giving her any ability to judge character.


    "Give me the harp."


    William handed it to her. As Alchara took the harp, he felt his entire being was being judged and gazed over. Alchara''s contemptuous gaze became less so after a minute. "Well, your motivations in this regard are almost pure. It nearly makes me rethink my views on the inferior races. No matter. As promised, Kiyora will be free to choose. Farewell."


    A cloud blocked out the sun, and she was gone.


    "Well, that went better than expected," said Vanion.


    "What?" said Kiyora. "But he had to give up the harp?"


    "In truth, I expected to fail," admitted Vanion. "I only made the offer out of general goodwill and later regretted it. Even I overextend myself sometimes."


    "Well, at least you''re honest about it," said Kiyora. "William, why give up the harp? That thing was powerful."


    "It... a friend of mine convinced me I''d better stop using it," said William, drawing off his helmet. "The music it makes is beautiful, but it isn''t mine. And until I can learn to make music like that on my own, I''m just a pretender."


    "Right," said Kiyora, shifting uneasily. "Um, William, I should wake up now. My parents will be worried about me."


    "Goodbye," said William.


    There was a long silence between them. Then suddenly, Kiyora stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."


    Before he could respond, Kiyora was gone. William felt the slight tingle on his cheek where her lips had met it. The feel of his armored hand against his face reminded him he was still wearing his full armor. He looked at the skull helmet in his hands.


    "You know," said William, "I''m beginning to think that Rusara may have gone overboard with this armor."


    "Yes," said Vanion, "I didn''t want to seem ungracious but-"


    "Lord Vanion," called a servant as he rushed into the room, "you must come quickly! Lady Azgora is giving birth!"


    "Damn," said Vanion. "William, change into something less terrifying and meet me in her room."


    "Right, yes, Father," said William.


    As Father ran off, William realized he was about to have a brother and sister. Despite the horrors of these past few months, he felt happy. There was a faint smile on his face. It was a beginning of sorts. And he couldn''t wait to see where it went.

 Chapter 102 - Book 5: Gods of Samrasa

    Well, that is my fourth book done on Royalroad. Now I have to find a way to pad the buffer chapter out a bit, so here goes. William''s storyline was written in advance of Relma and Sahshirs. His character was envisioned first, while Relma and Sahshir were possible supporting protagonists. Sahshir''s rather grim approach to life is the antithesis of his original characterization. He was originally supposed to be a hyperactive, justice-obsessed blood knight.


    His role was to charge in enthusiastically without regard to consequence. However, that characterization did not fit in. And since Sahshir was always envisioned as Middle Eastern, it fits even less as time went on. Calisha''s legendary rivalry with Harlenor was far too strong to justify it. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Eventually, Felix was envisioned instead. Felix''s main idea was to be a controlled and competent foil to William. Someone who seemed like he could get out of anything. And someone who called William on his failings. Sahshir, meanwhile, was eventually reimagined into his present state. Doing so gave me a chance to write a story within Calisha. As for Relma, she wasn''t even originally going to be a perspective character. Relma wasn''t even really envisioned as a character. The basic concept was to have a perspective flip of the standard Chosen One narrative. One where character shows up and asks a lot of questions, and is awarded their special destiny.


    This would have been from William''s perspective. The whole idea was to.highlight the flaws in the trope. However, I concluded that the Chosen One would actually have to be a character. And a fairly important character at that, with a network of characters of their own. This is what led me to conceive of the character of Relma. A sort of pro-active Chosen One, actively pursuing her destiny.


    In retrospect, I am very glad I moved away from the original concept. In any case, the next storyline will be called Gods of Samrasa. Our next storyline will be a bit of a divergence from the standard plot. It will take place in the land of Tarasif, where different Gods reign, at a time well before the present day. The story will focus on the fortunes of a noble House of Tarasif, the Husafa.

 Chapter 103 - Gods of Samrasa: A Note from William

    This book would not be possible without my friend and companion, Tanith Telus. Indeed, she was the one who bullied me into compiling the bloody thing. I don''t know why she wanted me to compile it; I can only assume she hoped my name would bring it more prominence. At the time of compilation, she still grieves for our mutual friend, Prince Kusher of Khasmir. I believe his death is what spurred her to publish these writings.


    We began working on this project after the Khasmir Campaign''s end. This prologue details something of how the account was assembled.


    This was useful in the editing process and in examining certain documents.


    The many sources that were drawn on to gather information on it were by no means easy to collect. They lay scattered in a dozen different libraries. They were fragmented pages or forgotten tombs, hardly paid any heed. She found one such fragment and sought more information. Many of them had to be translated first. That Tanith did so demonstrates a level of skill at writing I did not know she had.


    Some help was offered by her slave, Atria, who was claimed as plunder from war. She was integral in helping with certain older texts that Tanith couldn''t read. Assistance was also rendered by Tanith''s friend Eitrigg, who has since become a priest. She did the translation during the Khasmir and the Calishan campaigns. However, certain areas had to be translated within Tanith''s home of Ran Telus.


    In her time raiding, Tanith demonstrated an interest in myth and religion. She never burned libraries and often would read through them after the conquest. Many of the books were later taken back to Ran Telus along with her other plunder. And so she was able to compile many different sources. This may well be the most detailed chronicle of the subject that Harlenor or Calisha has ever had. These, happily, were dispatched to me by her Father, the Lord Telus, who wished them published.


    This story''s events chronicle a major shift in power in the eastern land of Tarasif. It is a place farther east than even Dinis and west of Themious, where my Mother hails from. Safara has verified some of the information, having kept up an interest in her former Empire. Mother has verified others, and looking at the primary sources helps more.


    It has become apparent that Tanith, at several points, communed with the spirit of Jaha to verify the data. It was not a pleasant meeting for either of them, I gather. Jaha is the God of Peace and Justice, though she has little following in Harlenor. But Tanith claims she drew her characterization from observing the scenes.


    I suspect Tanith may have painted Jaha with too harsh a brush. And the deplorable Tamar was probably intended to be more sympathetic than she was. Tanith has always had a warped perspective on what makes a good person. But I digress.


    In those days, Tarasif was less united than it is now and under the rule of a mighty King called Samrasa. He had come to the throne through a series of stunning victories. The final one had been over, brother, Rantasa, the previous King. That had been when Samrasa was thirty, and he was near his seventies when the story began.


    Tanith''s notes were quite extensive, and I have chosen to try to formulate them as best I can. Oddly enough, Tanith seems to have little interest in the violence. Entire campaigns are skimmed over in a few paragraphs. Complex philosophical discussions with no direct relevance to the narrative are commonplace. At the same time, any combat that does not directly relate to the tale''s heroes is skimmed. Tanith''s great love may be violence, but on the page, she is of a different mind.


    I should caution the unwary reader that this book''s portrayals may be inaccurate. Tanith seems to have projected many of her existing relationships onto the characters. Taha seems almost a lens through which she interacts with the world of the story. And I have noted similarities between how Nendas is portrayed and myself.


    Tanith shortened or removed elements that she found dull routinely. The negotiations described between Kulat and Tarasif are absurd. Knowing something of diplomacy, I could never imagine some of these interactions happening. That is to say, nothing of army movements toward the end of the book. Tanith understood logistics better than this, so I can only assume she didn''t care.


    One chapter, in particular, is written from the perspective of Elranor. This one was not written or pieced together by Tanith but rather adapted from an intact fragment. Several of the descriptions are anachronistic. They detail objects and concepts unfamiliar to me. Kiyora was able to provide some guidance on the subject for translation. These matters are detailed at the end of the book. Ironically these out-of-context events are evidence of the truth of the fragments.


    A Calishan or Tarasifian scribe making up a story would not have mentioned such things. For they would clash with the narrative they sought to tell. This assumes they even knew about them. I am thus convinced that the events presented in the fragment did take place in some form.


    In conclusion, this book should be taken as roughly accurate but with embellishments. With luck, new information shall arise to clarify the matter. Tanith''s preconceptions also color it, though I cannot say to what degree.


    I don''t see why she couldn''t have put it all together alone. She''d already done the translation. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    That being said, let us proceed.

 Chapter 104 - One: A Failure of Leadership

    The gardens of the Hasafa Clan were nice.


    A water clock was at work within the courtyard. Fish swam in and out of the rocks within the water. Meanwhile, the rose bushes were more beautiful than any Samrasa had seen. They were almost comparable in beauty to Lord Munsuf himself. Samrasa was sitting across from him now. Less so his twin brother, who came forward and bowed, going by the name Vandias. This man had fought in the wars; he had scars that his brother did not. He was a man of little use to his masters. It was a shame what had to be done.


    "...Well, brother?" asked Munsuf.


    "I am very sorry, Lord Munsuf," said Vandias. "However, Jaha has not allowed your daughter to become her avatar."


    "What?" said Munsuf, staring incredulously at him. "She was rejected?! Why? My daughter is the same vision of purity."


    "I do not know," said Vandias. "However, Sarafi seems to think it was because she didn''t want to be the priestess. Lady Jaha does not like forcing someone to be something they aren''t."


    "You mean to say that my daughter doesn''t want to be the Avatar of Jaha?" asked Munsuf. "But what more prestigious position could she take?"


    "None, for a Hasafa," said Vandias. "It is possible Sarafi does not want the prestige. She prefers spending time with her friends from the other houses."


    A charitable way of saying Sarafi had been rejected outright. A shame; Samrasa had been hoping to keep the temple to Jaha intact for a time. He''d always tried to preserve the art whenever possible. But when it directly depicted a Goddess, as all of Jaha''s art did, it meant the temple had to be hollowed out.


    How Samrasa wished religions used more symbolism.


    Symbolism was easy. All you had to do was reinterpret to mean something about man''s greatness. Or as a metaphor for the eternal search for the unknown.


    "But there must be an Avatar of Jaha, mustn''t there?" asked Samrasa. "We need one to ensure the legitimacy of our future actions. The chaos caused by religious strife must end. And the Goddess of Peace is a critical tool to that end.


    "Already, the worshippers of Barden have spoken out against our efforts. And others have done the same."


    "...King Samrasa, with respect, is it appropriate to speak of gods as though they were tools?" asked Vandias. "Let alone within the domain of a God?"


    Ah, a man who was not afraid to speak his mind. "Do they regard us as anything different?" asked Samrasa. And there was little he could say to that; the history of divine atrocities was long. "Munsuf, are there any other possible candidates for the position of Avatar of Jaha?"


    "There are others," said Munsuf. "None closely connected enough to ensure succession, however. It is custom that the Avatar of Jaha is wed to the heir apparent of the Hasafa Clan."


    "And who is the present heir, now?" asked Samrasa thoughtfully.


    "My son, Nendas," said Vandias. "He is training extensively for war and hopes to join in the battle against the rebels of Kulat. As soon as their justification for putting down their ''rebellion'' of course." The sarcasm was slight but noticeable.


    "An admirable desire," said Samrasa, considering what angle to approach this from. How to begin the destruction of a religion?


    The first step was always to get them to abandon their identity. Convince them to give up some sacred tradition or principle and then do it to another and another. Eventually, the god they worshipped was little more than a hollow excuse. All to hold ceremonies they did not believe in. From there, you could convince them the entire institution was a glorified means of theft.


    Then the battle was won.


    But before you could give up their silly superstitions, you had to get them to be willing to change them. Once the masses would alter their religion''s central beliefs on a whim, they would abandon them. Then you could simply make it official. "The Avatar of Jaha is traditionally always female, are they not?"


    "Yes, and they hold great sway over how the Clan is run," said Munsuf. "Usually, they are chosen as a wife to the heir to ensure power is centralized."


    "It is to ensure Queen Jaha has a clear say," said Vandias, what might have been irritation in his voice. "What you describe is merely a later invention, Musuf. Jaha originally did not marry the heir but merely remained enshrined as a source of guidance."


    Ah, so here was a man who believed and understood his faith.


    That was the first person you needed to remove. If worshippers did not understand their faith, they would compromise it. Once they did not believe it, you could substitute just about anything for the god.


    And if it was neither understood nor believed, then the cult was at an end.


    Of course, the religious would say that not believing meant you were not part of their group. One look at the quality of the priesthood disproved that for Samrasa when he was young. A great many fat men who had many mistresses and cared nothing for their supposed deity. Yet, they were setting policies for the faithful they manipulated.


    There were few of those left.


    Samrasa had crucified most of them.


    "Whatever you wish to believe, brother," said Munsuf. "If my daughter had been chosen as the Avatar of Jaha, she could have married Nendas, and the problem would be ended. Officially Nendas would be the Head of the Clan, but in practice, all power would be hers."


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    "Yes, because power is the only important thing," said Vandias in a half-joking tone. Only it was hiding disapproval, not agreement. "Duty and honor are tools by which the dull-witted may be manipulated."


    So he was a romantic as well. Samrasa was not a romantic and decades of rule had taught him that principles were a liability. Only Munsuf laughed at that, perhaps in self-hatred, threatening to unravel his use.


    Vandias grew more dangerous by the moment, and something would have to be done. Samrasa doubted removing Jaha would be possible with this man, especially since he felt confident enough to question him openly.


    "Do you normally let your subordinates speak this way to you?" asked Samrasa, irritated by the statement.


    "I apologize, King Samrasa," said Munsuf. "My brother has antiquated ideas of how one ought to rule. He believes that the lies we tell the populace ought to come true. He needs to understand the necessity of our actions. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "However, he has an excellent talent for negotiating with the lower orders.


    "And his advice is often useful. To say nothing of his skill at the battle."


    "When every man imitates our actions, the world will end in fire and ruin," noted Vandias. "Can you say the same of my beliefs?"


    "Of course, I can''t, brother," said Munsuf. "My point is that such things require a balance. Peaceful, good people need ruthless, violent people to ensure they can remain so."


    "No, they don''t," said Vandias. "I assure you, ordinary people would get along just fine if all the raiders and thieves of the world died out. Conversely, the raiders and thieves would eat each other and become mere animals. Until they became farmers."


    "Yes, but the real problem is getting rid of all the raiders, isn''t it?" asked Samrasa, coming to dislike the man more by the moment. The way he spoke with confidence irritated him, and his clear intelligence was worse. No intelligent man had any business believing in that divine nonsense.


    "You see what I must contend with?" laughed Munsuf.


    "You have an understanding of philosophy?" asked Samrasa of Vandias. Munsuf chafed at the snub. Yet he could not move against Samrasa without going through Vandias.


    "I studied it in Kulat before tensions began to grow between our nations," said Vandias. "I would have gone to Tarasif, but I thought all the burning books would limit the study''s usefulness."


    "That is an unfortunate necessity, I fear," said Samrasa, deciding to shift the subject. "Kulat was part of Tarasif''s dominion for centuries. Even before the Sarafian Empire rose to power. However, motivating the people to march to war is difficult pragmatically. One needs a cause to pursue the interests of the state."


    "Perhaps you should examine what those interests are," noted Vandias. "And how they benefit the state."


    Ah, so that was it.


    Vandias was the leader in all but name. This kind of open confidence could not be held by one who was a subordinate. And with good reason. There was a dangerous man and a powerful ally for Munsuf. He would make the Hasafa a formidable enemy in time as Samrasa''s influence grew. It would be a shame to kill one so beautiful as Munsuf.


    Fortunately, Munsuf seemed to chafe under his brother''s dominance. He lacked the will to make his own decisions and resented his brother. Or so Samrasa guessed.


    "I shall do so," said Samrasa. "Please, leave us."


    "Forgive me, King Samrasa, but I am an advisor to the Lord of the Hasafa," replied Munsuf''s brother. "I can be dismissed only by him."


    Munsuf said nothing.


    "Your loyalty do you credit," said Samrasa. "But I have likewise dismissed by advisors, save one of the most trusted. And I would speak with him alone."


    Munsuf had both their gaze on him. Now was the critical moment. If Munsuf dismissed his brother, Samrasa could manipulate him for his good. If he stayed, things would be problematic.


    "I have no enemies here, brother," said Munsuf.


    "Is it truly wise to dismiss your counsel when discussing matters of-" began the brother.


    "I don''t need you," said Munsuf. "For this." He added.


    "As you wish," said the man.


    Vandias bowed, then he turned and left.


    It had happened too easily.


    There was the most problematic of soldiers. Vandias was the kind who questioned authority and valued higher ideals. Samrasa had been forced to make himself a kind of god to substitute for religious fervor. His word was divine law now, by another name. A necessary convenience and people like him broke the image.


    "You have a very dangerous brother, Munsuf," said Samrasa simply. "He knows how to ask inconvenient questions."


    "Yes, I am well aware," said Munsuf, pleased to be treated equally. He seemed to be searching for common ground. "And now that Jaha has all but put her support behind him, we have a problem."


    "You believe Nendas will not serve our purposes?" asked Samrasa, seeking to drive a wedge between them. Say ''our'' purposes to imply a unity of sorts.


    "Nendas is very much his Father''s son," said Munsuf, playing to Samrasa''s words. No doubt he was trying to seem important. "He believes in right and wrong, good and evil, and no compromise. He prays daily to Jaha, trains regularly, and studies a great deal. If he took power, he would do what he thought was right.


    "I had hoped Sarafi would be a check on him. He has a soft spot for her.


    "But that is no longer an option."


    Munsuf was trying to imitate Samrasa to appear in control. And it occurred to Samrasa that though he was thirty and full-grown, he appeared like a boy in a man''s body. Best to play to that desire for approval, to fill a Fatherly role. "Nendas... how good is he?"


    "His instructors all have the highest of praise for him, and the servants love him," said Munsuf. "He could be a valuable asset if he could be caged. They say he is wise and mature beyond his years.


    "But I fear I may have to destroy both of them first."


    That was a clumsy statement, revealed too quickly, and Samrasa doubted he had thought of it before.


    Either way, Munsuf was already at the point where he''d kill them both. He was just too intellectually feeble to realize it. Samrasa guessed there was some jealousy. He had seen Nendas once or twice, for he remained here while his Father went out on Munsuf''s business. The boy eagerly desired to please, but he was also serious and aware of his surroundings.


    In some ways, he was akin to Munsuf as he had been at that age, but with a work ethic and discipline, Munsuf had lacked. Perhaps that was why Munsuf wanted him destroyed.


    No Master wanted to feel less accomplished than his servant. And the best way to avoid being surpassed was to destroy those who would surpass you. Still, Munsuf could have been more useful beyond destroying his clan. He could be used to cage the bird and locked in place until its wings atrophied.


    To use Munsuf was to destroy him. And to use him would also kill Nendas and his Father. But if the order of events could be arranged, Nendas could also be used. Samrasa had long ago learned that true art lay in making use of them while you destroyed them. He had become very good at it. "Let''s not be too hasty.


    "I am certain a real use of them could be made. We need only manipulate events, so their destruction serves our purposes."


    "Oh really?" asked Munsuf, eager to be let in on the plan. "And what do you have in mind, my King?"


    Samrasa told him his plan, and Munsuf hung on his every word. This one would be enjoyable prey to catch even if he was older than the usual sport. And he might catch a younger one at the same time.

 Chapter 105 - Two: Asking and Receiving

    Nendas often prayed at the statue of Jaha.


    He didn''t feel anything by it; sometimes, it made no difference. But it was the sort of thing a leader of the Hasafa ought to do. Jaha, unlike some gods, wanted people to commune with her. She cared if the texts were to be believed, and no matter was too small for her.


    So, today he was praying within the garden he had never much cared for. The white roses were pretty, but he did not enjoy roses. Of course, he appreciated the servant''s efforts but had never seen the appeal.


    "Jaha, I..." said Nendas, hands clasped together as one ought to. "I don''t usually like praying all that much, even though I should. I should talk to you about what''s been happening. Everyone in the Clan has been acting odd.


    "Father has been meeting with Uncle and King Samrasa. Sarafi and I are told to stay out of the way, but...


    "Samrasa is a great man. He''s won many great victories and is recreating Tarasif. Uncle has renewed the alliance with him for a reason. Even so, everyone is tense.


    "I don''t know why."


    Nendas had been about to run out of anything to say. However, he was spared the humiliation when the doors opened. Turning around in irritation, he saw Sarafi come through the door, brown hair tied behind her. "Nendas!"


    "What is it, Sarafi? I am at prayer?" said Nendas. "You can''t just barge into the prayer chamber like this."


    "I just did," said Sarafi, sticking out her tongue. "Why are you always spending all this time in front of statues."


    "Jaha is our deity, Sarafi," said Nendas, though he''d disliked spending all this time here. "One ought to pray to her every day.


    "Even if they''re is very little to talk about."


    "Well, fine, whatever you say," said Sarafi. "But I don''t bother with it."


    She was outspoken, as always. Didn''t she care about her duty at all? Then again, people seemed fond of her. "You should."


    "Why?" asked Sarafi. "It''s not like the Gods have been very talkative lately anyway? And I''m pretty sure they''ll be phased out anyway."


    "Phased out?" asked Nendas, not understanding what she meant. "What are you talking about?"


    "Father always says that Gods are what we draw our authority from," said Sarafi. "So if you have some other source of authority that is better, why not use that? Just use whatever works."


    That was a surreal statement. "And what better source of authority are you going to ask for?"


    "Well, how about Father?" asked Sarafi.


    Nendas decided it best to nip this concept in the bud. Some clans had argued that patriarchy was the only real authority. Usually, to justify switching to a different god. "...As much as I love and respect my uncle, Sarafi, I do not think he ranks the same as a god."


    "But we''re the ones who make the offerings and make the statues and shrines," said Sarafi. "Jaha''s power can''t be infused without that. The Gods come to this world on our terms."


    "Who has been teaching this nonsense, Sarafi?" asked Nendas, now genuinely disturbed. "The Gods are more than capable of influencing the world without the offerings. Those things are how we commune with them and allow us to bask in their power.


    "Through prayer, we receive instructions on what we ought to do.


    "Is all this why didn''t you accept your position as Jaha''s Avatar?"


    "I didn''t refuse to accept it," said Sarafi. "She said I didn''t want it, and I didn''t. So she didn''t offer it to me. I''m not stupid enough to try and lie to a god. So I didn''t."


    "Well, why didn''t you want it?" asked Nendas, at a loss.


    Sarafi shrugged. "Because Father says we''re going to look into alternative sources of authority. Why would I want to be the Avatar of Jaha if Jaha is going to get sidelined soon anyway."


    "...Are you sure Uncle said that, Sarafi?" asked Nendas. Uncle had always said they should respect the Gods. Though Father and he had quarreled of late. "You might have misinterpreted him."


    "Well, he never says anything like that around you," said Sarafi. "You scare him."


    "What did Uncle say when you told him why you didn''t get chosen as the Avatar of Jaha?" asked Nendas, privately believing it though he ought not to.


    "Well... he didn''t say anything at the time," said Sarafi. "But I heard him screaming in incoherent rage after I left the room. I think he was counting on me lying to Jaha."


    Nendas decided he had had enough of this conversation. "Have you seen my father?"


    "Oh yes, that''s why I came looking for you. He''s about to be sent out on a mission by Father," said Sarafi.


    "What mission are you talking about?" asked Nendas, who had heard nothing about this. Such arrangements were usually discussed weeks in advance. Father had many important responsibilities. And all the more as Uncle surrendered more and more of his. Did he expect him to drop them all?


    "Uncle Vandias* is supposed to negotiate with the Priests of Barden in Tarasif. It''s on behalf of King Samrasa," said Sarafi. "King Samrasa wants them to uh make some... what was it... concessions? Or to move out of the city?


    He finally ran out of statues to melt down. Melting down the metal statues of one''s predecessor was an old tradition. And it was especially favored among Tarasifian Kings. At one point, they had gone through six Kings in five years. After Samrasa put an end to the bad old days, he had been more restrained about it. But a golden statue was a treasury waiting to happen. And when you fought as many wars as Samrasa, you needed all the money you could get.


    He''d tried to keep some of them. But one invasion after another had seen them disappear off the pedestals. The older man had spoken of it over dinner once with a sad look in his eye. Nendas suspected that he regretted his brother''s death and wanted to keep the relics.


    Reuniting the old Safaranian Empire was a task generation in the making.* And it was one not one anyone alive would see come to fruition. Even if you were to conquer all the surrounding lands, you would have to conquer Dinis to the west. And that would be a near-impossible task as things stood. Even crossing the Euphus River would be difficult. Samrasa had settled with thwarting a Dinis invasion in his younger years.


    Part of the problem was all the mountains to the south, cutting off contact with the seas beyond. Barden had raised them up to defend against the Babarassians. And they stretched to Spirta in the southmost. They were safe from that angle, but Tarasif could not reliably access the Sea of Power. All their trade went through Dinis, who charged tolls. The only other alternatives were the Spirtana warrior women and the Viokins to the north.


    No, Kulat and Themious to the east were the real priorities. There was a place where strength could be gathered. The fortifications of Dinis were too strong, the Legion''s invincible in fair battle. Only through ambush and harassment had Samrasa defeated them. And it had been a gruesome conflict. The corpses of thousands of legionaries hung rotting on the shores of the Serpent River. A gruesome warning to those who would try again.


    Sarafi had studied all this, of course. But she lacked interest in these things, a flaw she inherited from Uncle. Uncle, who had the standard of a Dinisian Legion on his wall. It served as a testament to the triumph of Grandfather. There had been a man of steel will to match the grace of Jaha.


    There had been no love between them, but after his death, Samrasa sought the Hasafa Clan''s favor. Although the attention, according to Father, had put jealous eyes upon them.


    "Well, where is he now?" asked Nendas. "I must speak with him."


    "I''ll lead you to him," said Sarafi. "Come on."


    Sarafi led Nendas from the prayer chamber, and he was careful to close it behind him. Mentally, he reminded himself to make an offering of some kind later when he had a chance. But, for now, they went through the wood-paneled rooms. Nendas noticed the servants looked restless.


    Something was happening.


    When they found Father, he put on his sword belt and tied his hair back. The sword itself was lying against a rack in pristine condition. The scars on his face had never healed from his time in battle. Vandias Hasafa had served well in the wars, but direct combat was never his specialty.


    "Father?" asked Nendas.


    "Oh, Nendas, Sarafi, I was hoping to catch you before I left," said Father, ruffling Sarafi''s hair.


    "You''re going so suddenly?" asked Nendas.


    "Yes, the Priests of Barden are causing problems," said Father. "They have been preaching that people must return to the worship of certain banned gods. By neglecting their duties to them, they claim, they are endangering the city as a whole."


    "Which ones?" asked Sarafi.


    "Zigildrazia, Coinfurth, and um... well, no one has dared stop offering to Baltoth yet," said Father. Baltoth was feared greatly in Tarasif, though little loved. His agents had destroyed the Safarian Empire by seizing Safara, after all.


    Though the Hasafa had not minded the loss of the Serpent Goddess, Jaha had clashed with her several times. And there had been concern her coils were gripping too tightly around them. Rebellions had broken out almost instantaneously against the snake spirits after she left. Now they had fled into the marshes and woods of the south. There they hunted those foolish enough to seek them.


    "You mean the Demonic Archons?" asked Nendas. "Why would anyone want people to return to their worship?" Under Rantasa, Zigildrazians had come to great power. Children had been burned alive within pots of bronze. And after the ceremony, the murderous mothers spoke of it as a liberating experience. Some would even highlight their status as mothers of living children.


    Samrasa had begun his use of crucifixion with them.


    "Well, the argument is that, like it or not, the demonic archons have a hold within Tarasif," said Father. "And by rooting them out unprovoked, we are risking their wrath. Tarasif''s recent victories have made it many enemies.


    "If the demonic archons are enraged, they''d side with our enemies. And, according to the Priests of Baltoth, the other gods are none too happy about it. So they might not support us as strongly."


    "But aren''t the demonic archons their enemies?" asked Nendas.


    "Officially, yes," said Father. "But you have to understand, Nendas. Most deities are part of a pantheon. We regard the pantheon with awe, but it is more or less a social circle. It is a social circle of mighty beings, some good, some bad. They also know of several other clubs and sometimes conflict with them.


    "Now, each social circle has its idea of how the world should be run. And they fight one another over it. They play factions against one another for their benefit.


    "What Samrasa is doing is holding them accountable for their actions. He''s rooting out the worst part of them. But the others are now afraid. They don''t trust Samrasa and regard him as a rogue.


    "Even if Samrasa is purging people who deserve what happens to them, it sets a precedent. It is a precedent that might lead to all of the others. Most are given similar special treatment. So, we have to be very careful. If we''re not, we could lose the gods'' support."


    "And what are you supposed to do about it?" asked Nendas.


    "Oh, I''m a well-known moderate," said Father. "My plan is to talk with the various priests, and arrange some give and take. With luck, we can ensure both sides tolerate one another."


    "What do you mean by ''give and take,'' Uncle?" asked Sarafi. "Why should we give anything to troublemakers?"


    "Well... if you want a stable society, you have to have everyone be willing to work for that society," said Father. "If one side gets everything and everyone else gets nothing, then you get war. Both sides polarize and come to hate one another as inhuman and try to exterminate the other.


    "If the oppressor wins, they brutalize the oppressed until another rebellion overthrows them. If the rebels win, they turn the tables and brutalize those that used to victimize them. They become the oppressors. It never ends.


    "That''s why give and take is necessary.


    "What needs to happen is that every element of society must recognize they are part of a whole. Everyone must see the flaws in their own faction and see that those who abuse their power are cast out. If both sides prosecute their worst aspects, peace is natural, especially if both respect one another.


    "No one wants to make war on a good man. And no one wants to have a monster on their side. The trick is seeing the ones'' on both sides for what they are."


    "What do you have in mind for giving and taking Father?" asked Nendas. He had always been interested in such philosophy. However, he''d never fully understood it.


    "Well, I''d try to convince Samrasa to prosecute some of his soldiers. Some who abused their authority," said Father. "There have been a rising number of those lately. Regardless of whether that authority was done to a staunch atheist or a worshipper, it must be. Justice must be applied to everyone, after all."


    "What''s an atheist?" asked Sarafi.


    "Someone who does not believe gods exist," said Father.


    "Atheists?" asked Nendas. "I don''t believe they exist. The Gods make themselves known constantly." Though he felt that statement was not wholly his own, Jaha had a part of every Hasafa Clan member.


    "There are some philosophical arguments that I read of during my time in Kulat," said Father. "Some men theorized that the gods were hallucinations given physical form. They have power from the inherent power of mortals. And only our collective belief in them gives them any power.


    "But, of course, that doesn''t hold up if you think about it. Even if our collective belief in them gives them power and allows them to exist, they still do. We do not cease to exist because we must eat and drink.


    "And anyway, time itself is an illusion.


    "What exists always did exist and always will. We, mortals, are looking upon one page in a great book. Even if we turn the page, the events we experienced are still there."


    "But others experience different events," said Nendas. "If two different men read the same book, they shall have different experiences. And if a man rereads the same book years later, he may feel very differently about him."


    "But he would have read that book with a given interpretation at one time," noted Father. "And therefore, that experience would still exist. Just in a different form."


    "I don''t get it," said Sarafi. "You were talking about giving and taking. And now you''re going into this philosophical stuff."


    "Excellent point," said Father with a laugh. "I must attend to the moment.


    "Anyway, we''d demand something in return once we made a concession. Religious groups would have to give up members of their congregation. Those who committed crimes would be yielded to the law. We also suggest that they alter or downplay aspects of their faith. For the most part, elements that could cause social unrest.


    "Some of Samrasa''s lieutenants are overzealous, however. And some of the religions could be more pleasant. It will be difficult, but in Jaha''s name, it shall be done."


    "But you mentioned no one went after Baltoth," said Sarafi. "Why not?"


    "Baltoth is... not the kind of person to want to offend," said Father. "He made his pantheon from scratch, and even the other gods are terrified of him.


    "Also, he is the Lord of Order, even if he is a usurper. So it''s best to avoid conflict with him for now. Regimes that go after him tend to come to bad ends. Rantasa raided his temple. Ever afterward, his supply lines fell into utter disarray. Many of his officials became corrupt or more corrupt, and his men became disorderly.


    "The whole rebellion fragmented. Hand me my sword, will you, Nendas?"


    Nendas nodded and picked the blade up. "Yes, Father."


    He brought the blade over to Father and examined it. It was a simple blade, so simple that it was unmarked. There were no symbols or decorations; it was simply practical. A very good sword Father kept with him from the wars.


    But as Father took it from Nendas'' hand, he looked at it. "...You know, I''ve never been any good with this." And he handed it back. "You keep it. I''ll carry my spare, and you can return it to me when I get back."


    Nendas took the blade and made sure not to lose it. "Thank you, Father."


    "You know, Uncle, I think you''d make a better Avatar of Jaha than me," said Sarafi.


    "Don''t be absurd, Sarafi. I''m a man," said Father. "It''s not in my nature to be peaceful. And I''ve never liked tea."


    Father left far sooner than Nendas would have liked and found himself alone. Sarafi had gone off to speak with her friends or something. And then, a servant came to him. "Master Nendas?"


    "Yes?" asked Nendas.


    "Lord Munsuf wishes to speak with you," said the servant.


    Nendas nodded. "I''ll see you off if I can, Father. And I''ll give you back your sword."


    Father laughed. "I know you will."


    Nendas went through the halls, wondering why Uncle wanted to speak with him now. Coming into his office, he sat down. Munsuf had many books on his shelves, but virtually none of them had ever been touched. Nendas had been here once or twice and almost asked to read one.


    However, it would have seemed wrong somehow. The Lord Munsuf had put them there for appearances, and marrying them with use would hurt that. How expensive had those books been, though? The Hasafa Clan employed several spirits capable of transcribing books. But it still took time and was expensive.


    "Uncle, you called for me?" asked Nendas.


    "Yes, Nendas," said Munsuf. "How would you feel about becoming the first male Avatar of Jaha?"


    Nendas stopped short, wondering if this was some attempt at humor. "The Avatar of Jaha?


    "How is that even possible?" S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It has never been done before; however, there is no rule in the laws against it," said Munsuf. "I have the assurances of those responsible for reading them."


    Nendas privately wondered why he had not checked the laws on such an important matter. But Uncle had always preferred to delegate. "I don''t understand why we should seek such an unprecedented move. The Avatar of Jaha is sworn to peace, not to harm anyone. I am training to be a warrior."


    "I know, and we understand that," said Uncle. Who was ''we''? "Certainly, your place in the battles to come should not be denied you. However, I fear we are running out of time."


    "What do you mean?" asked Nendas.


    "Sarafi was meant to become the Avatar of Jaha, Nendas," said Uncle. "Many important plans wrested on it being so. However, Jaha refusing to accept my daughter into her service has put us into a severe dilemma."


    "What do you mean by that, Uncle?" asked Nendas. Who was the Lord Munsuf to declare who Jaha was meant to choose? "Are we not stronger than ever before? We have a powerful alliance with Tarasif, and things are going well.


    "Can''t we wait?"


    "Yes, we could wait," said Munsuf, seeming irritated. "But there must always be an Avatar of Jaha. And with the current situation, we need one more than ever. For Jaha is the Goddess of Peace, and with no wars, our task is now one of negotiation and understanding.


    "If such a thing is not reached, war will surely break out."


    Nendas thought something was wrong here and could not see what it was. "Why did you wait for Father to be gone? I could have consulted him."


    "Oh, he knew of the plan," said Uncle a bit too quickly. "I asked him not to speak to you about it on my behalf. I didn''t want there to be any misunderstandings."


    Was that a lie? Nendas thought it sounded like a lie. But why should he even consider questioning the head of his clan? "What exactly do you want me to do, Uncle? And why me?"


    "Well, you are often seen praying to Jaha when other youths your age ignore her," said Uncle. "Go to her on my behalf and ask that she inhabit your form as Avatar. But ask that you be allowed to pursue your duties as a man nonetheless.


    "Fighting and securing the kingdom, when necessary."


    "Uncle, to do this would lose me my ability to inherit," said Nendas, more for his benefit than his own. Being the heir to the Hasafa Clan had never been important to him. He simply wished to serve in whatever way he was best qualified. "Who will take my place as heir? Do you think Sarafi can run the clan on her own?"


    "Well, surely you could marry her eventually, nonetheless," said Munsuf.


    Did Uncle truly not know that much? If so, how could Nendas inform him otherwise? He couldn''t flat-out call him ignorant. "You test me, Uncle.


    "Marriage between the Avatar and the Head of the Clan is between Jaha and the Clan. The purpose is that she should temper their warlike desires. And by doing so, channel them toward true peace.


    "Sarafi is a girl and does not have that problem. So the marriage would serve no purpose. It would also be putting Jaha into the position of being a homosexual.


    "Such a thing would be an abomination."


    Munsuf shifted at Nendas'' voice and struggled to meet his gaze. "...That is a matter of some interpretation, Nendas. Perhaps Jaha is a being who exists beyond gender and can be male and female."


    "All of our texts say otherwise," noted Nendas, a little annoyed. Did Uncle truly know so little about his own clan? Or rather, did he simply not care? "I imagine Jaha could have clarified the matter."


    "Perhaps the texts were mistaken," said Munsuf. He didn''t even respond to the idea that Jaha could set a policy of her own.


    "Many texts from other lands say the same," said Nendas. "I''ve read them. Or perhaps I am reading the wrong books." This was ridiculous. Why did Nendas have to lecture a man twenty years his elder while pretending to be lectured? "If I am, please correct me."


    Munsuf put up the appearance of being very pleased by his questions. "You''ve learned your lessons well. But, it is all a matter of interpretation.


    "In any case, if you cannot marry Sarafi, alternatives may be found. I cannot force you to do this, nor would I. But please go to Jaha on my behalf and present this possibility to her.


    "Now, please."


    And there was another oversight. Uncle was telling Nendas to go present this plan to Jaha on his behalf. But by all accounts, Munsuf was the one who ought to commune with Jaha. He''d married one of her avatars.


    "But..." said Nendas. "Uncle, surely you could commune with Jaha about this yourself. I mean only to say that for me to make such a proposition would seem... unbefitting of my place."


    "I believe it would be better if you spoke to her," said Munsuf. "And you speak with her on my authority. But, for various reasons, I would prefer to avoid speaking with her."


    Nendas nodded at the order. "Yes, Uncle."


    Standing up, Nendas walked out.


    As he did, half his mind thought Uncle was an absolute fool who could not feign understanding. The conversation had confirmed a suspicion that had been growing for years. Father ought to be in command of the clan all along. The prosperity they had experienced was owed to Munsuf foisting the job on others.


    What made it worse, however, was the knowledge that Munsuf believed Jaha to be his property. A Goddess who transcended his existence by an infinite number of years was being treated as an asset. A kind of position that could be handed over to anyone and altered to fit his personal whims. Sarafi had not wanted the position, and Munsuf didn''t want it to remain unfilled. So he simply thought he could change the rules.


    As if the holy texts were mere ink on a page to be altered at will? Who was Lord Munsuf to declare the holy canon of Jaha to be null and void? He was trying to rewrite the central belief system of the Hasafa Clan to fit some private political whim. In a few years, if nothing was done, he''d move on to something else to ruin out of spite.


    If he''d had any respect for his Uncle, it would have been gone. Then again, there was no way Uncle would be brave enough to try this on his own. Why all this so suddenly?


    Was this the work of King Samrasa? They had been meeting together a great deal lately.


    Still, it was of no real relevance whether Nendas respected Munsuf. The patriarch of his clan had given Nendas an order, and he had to obey it. And so he walked to stand before the prayer room once again. As he kneeled, Nendas felt he was doing something he couldn''t back away from.


    So he must at least present the idea to Queen Jaha.


    Perhaps he could simply pretend to pray and come back to say the request had been rejected. The request was completely ridiculous; anyone, Jaha ought not to be bothered by it. But, no, that seemed like something Uncle would do. Nendas considered that he might lose his position as heir. Then he considered that Uncle stood nothing to gain by not having Nendas as an heir. And the laws of the clan meant nothing to him.


    So it might happen anyway.


    And in any case, Nendas had been given a particular place in the world. It was his duty to fulfill that place. All creatures were given a task to perform, and whether they did it well or poorly was how they were judged. So he must make the best argument he could on behalf of Uncle''s position and accept the result. So he prayed.


    "Queen Jaha..." said Nendas. "I''m here from my Uncle with a message. He and King Samsara are concerned about the future. Although they''ve won many great victories, they are afraid that... well, they believe an Avatar of Jaha is needed to help stave off a war.


    "And... Sarafi wasn''t worthy of the position."


    Silence and Nendas had the feeling it wasn''t about Sarafi being unworthy. "Yes, I mean, she did not want the position, but...


    "My Uncle has asked me to... offer myself in her place. He believes that as your Avatar, I will... will be able to do your will. However, I would also have to continue fighting on my clan''s behalf and people''s behalf. I would need to fulfill my obligations, such as they are.


    "If this arrangement is not your liking, we expect nothing, however...


    "If it is your will, I am your vessel."


    Silence.


    Nendas felt drained for a moment. Then, suddenly, the light from the statue emanated, and Nendas felt what might have been an embrace. And everything went white.


    *I should note that Vandias might be a mistranslation. Rusara assures me that Navrion was the name of Nendas'' Father. She has studied older texts before their destruction. However, Rusara may be operating on outdated linguistics.


    While divine power does bless one with the ability to understand any language, it has limits. While you understand the language, you do not learn it. Merely understand the intent of the speaker. Thus you gain comprehension of their words by proxy. You also cannot understand any language contrary to your own nature.


    Tanith was always better with languages, and Tarasif was far off. So I have simply adapted her writing of it and made this note.


    *Much of the historical data in this chapter was outside the original translated texts. However, I felt it necessary context, and Nendas would surely have known most of it. Thus I have integrated the information where necessary and convenient for the text.


    If nothing else, it should give the reader a greater understanding of the land of Tarasif. Assuming that any of this is even remotely accurate, there is such a thing as propaganda.

 Chapter 106 - Three: Awakening

    Nendas woke up in his bed in his room. The light coming through the curtains of his window was orangish, that of a sunset. It was said that such a waking foretold death, and Nendas prayed it no one he knew.


    His eyes struggled to open, and never before in his life had he felt so drained. His room remained furnished with little save well-read books from his Father and a bed. As he gradually got the feeling back in his limbs, he realized he was alive.


    Alive and drained. His eyes were closed, but he could sense it all around him.


    "Wake up, Nendas," said a voice. "We have work to do."


    "I''m alive," Nendas confirmed.


    "For the present, though, I expect we''ll all die someday," said a very different voice. Nendas opened his eyes and saw a familiar old man. He was somewhat grandfatherly in appearance, with mottled and scarred skin.


    Recognizing him, Nendas sat up. "King Samrasa I-"


    "Don''t stand up," said Samrasa. "You''ve had an eventful few days, Nendas."


    "Yes, I..." Nendas paused. "What happened?"


    "Perhaps a mirror would help more," said Samrasa, drawing up a mirror.


    Nendas saw the symbol there, that of a hawk flying freely above the clouds. It was on the brow of his head, and he remembered it. It had burned on the brow of Uncle''s wife for years. "This is...


    "The symbol of Jaha." And he felt a warmth, a sort of feeling that filled him and made him feel even more alive. "She... I can feel her within me..."


    "You can?" asked Samrasa, sounding somewhat surprised. Nendas wondered why; Samrasa believed in the god''s power at least. A King would have to know such things.


    "Yes, her presence is here within me. I... I feel strange," said Nendas, putting a note of horror into his tone. He did not think it quite safe to cite religious joy in front of Samrasa, even if he did feel like smiling.


    The Goddess Jaha had chosen to reside within him.


    Him.


    This was an honor beyond compare, and Nendas tried to stop from smiling. He succeeded.


    "It is to be expected. We have never attempted anything like this before," said Samrasa. Then he looked at Nendas very hard. "You do know what your Uncle has done to you, don''t you?"


    So was Samrasa trying to play Nendas against Uncle? Was it a means of gaining Nendas'' approval? It was best to see where this went. "Done?


    "Uncle has done nothing to me. He asked me to offer myself to Jaha, and I did so."


    "Yes, but have you considered what that means?" asked Samrasa. Ah, so that was his game, worldly temptation. "You will be in no position to inherit anything. Even if a political marriage is made between you and Sarafi, you will have no real influence. Sarafi will hold all political power."


    A sense of grief came to Nendas that Samrasa should be so obsessed with the world. And a desire came to him to reach out. Nendas settled for looking down at his hands and feigning conflict. "That doesn''t matter to me.


    "What I want is to serve Tarasif and Queen Jaha. If it means being a warrior, then that''s the future I will accept. If it means being a servant of peace, I''ll accept that as well."


    Nendas would have said it proudly. But doing so might lose his head, and he could be of no assistance to anyone like that. At the same time, if Samrasa was trying to manipulate him, Uncle probably knew about it. Samrasa was probably trying to play both of them against one another as a means of keeping his options open.


    Uncle probably thought he was in on the plan, and the whole thing was a deception fooling Nendas. Why was he thinking of things in such cynical terms? A presence in his mind told him this was not how he ought to think. Memories flashed through him of Sarafi''s mother and grandmother. Both had been graceful meditators, beautiful and demure. Not calculating in so brutal a fashion.


    Why the change? Perhaps because he was a man and Jaha''s power affected him differently.*


    "A very admirable mindset," said Samrasa, putting a hand on Nendas'' shoulder. His bare shoulder. The proximity was... distressing. "Though I fear that the universe does not always reward such devotion."


    "What do you mean?" asked Nendas, trying to appear innocent. He hated how Samrasa touched him and wanted to throw him off. The man was insincere and may have had a hand in whatever plan was happening here. At the very least, he was taking Nendas'' apparent vulnerability. For what? An opportunity for power?


    Though what kind of power? Nendas could not tell.


    "It''s nothing, of course," said Samrasa, drawing his hand back. "Tell me, what would you think of accompanying me to Tarasif?"


    "Tarasif, me?" asked Nendas, feeling genuine enthusiasm. He''d always wanted to see the Holy City, even under a new set of rulers from the old days. The ever-changing sets of soldier kings had not changed the importance of Tarasif. If anything, it had affirmed the city with symbolic importance.


    What was Nendas thinking? Samrasa had ruled since well before he was born and had a reputation as a powerful and benevolent King. He''d never known any other way. But then, Jaha had the women who were possessed by her before.


    Nendas considered that if he were in the King''s company, he''d have a chance to prove himself in battle. So there was the possibility of real glory in this mission. But that same voice argued that an Avatar of Jaha ought not to seek glory, and Nendas took her point.


    "Well, yes," said Samrasa, leaning back. "I''m told you''re quite the swordsman. I''m certain you could be of more use with me than here."


    "Of course. Gladly," said Nendas before remembering his duties. "That is if Uncle is willing to approve, of course." Uncle would, of course, approve, and refusing the offer was not an option. One did not snub a King. It raised questions of loyalty, and Samrasa was known for his treatment of traitors.


    The Hasafa had a narrow escape with Rantasa. They''d been necessary and had left his service earlier than the others. There were graveyards of those less fortunate, and others had fled west to Dinis. Little had been heard from them in years, save that some had married in with the locals. The Emperor had attempted to take Tarasif in their name but had been repelled.


    Even so, the idea of going with Samrasa troubled him. Nendas felt a deep sense he was heading into unfamiliar ground. Not just on a personal but on a cosmic scale.


    "I already discussed it with him," said Samrasa, voice very Fatherly. "To be perfectly honest, I''m concerned that Munsuf does not appreciate your loyalty. He is concerned about what you may say while here. It would probably be best if you made a name for yourself in the army."


    "Well..." Nendas considered how best to respond to such obvious bait. Make a desire to betray Uncle known, which could get him killed. Deny it outright would make it so he was contradicting King Samrasa. Best not to respond at all. "I would be an honor to serve Tarasif under you."


    "Excellent," laughed Samrasa. "I knew you to be of excellent make when I first saw you." He stood. "We leave tomorrow, be ready at dawn tomorrow. A warrior cannot afford to slack off."


    Nendas resolved not to disappoint him as he left. But his thoughts turned to violence? Would he have to kill people? He would have to kill people; that was what a warrior ought to do. Jaha must have been aware of this when she chose him, surely. If there was some alternative to this path, Nendas would take it if she wished. But he had obligations to fulfill, just like those before him.


    And an Avatar had to fulfill their duties as well.


    Standing, Nendas began to get dressed.


    Still, why were Uncle and Samrasa wasting time on such manipulations? He was already completely loyal to the Hasafa; hadn''t he clarified that? If they''d been trying to get him killed, they could have knifed him and been done with it. No need for manipulations at all.


    Nendas realized he was calculating things a great deal more than before. And he was doing so very shrewdly. Was this the power of Jaha? She was the Peacemaker Goddess and peace often required shrewd negotiation. That may be the reason. Only the Peacemaker''s Goddess power had manifested in others. Usually, as a kind of all-loving compassion. Each person''s perspective could be taken into account. Then a long-term solution could be found.


    Jaha had steered Tarasif along the road to stability since the fall of Old Tambarian. That had been before even Safara had created her Empire of Love. The two of them had an... interesting dynamic, one a serpent, the other a dove. All those statues and pictures had focused on her as a friend to all. So why did it manifest in this cold-blooded calculation within him?


    This was strange for him to experience, and it troubled him as he finished dressing and moved out. And then he heard two servants speaking.


    "Haven''t you heard?" asked Maka, an older woman.


    "Heard what?" asked Imogen, a pink-haired servant girl of foreign descent.*


    "Well, some of the others they..." began the first. "Lord Munsuf and King Samrasa have been spending much time together. Some say more than they ought to-"


    "Ahem," said Nendas, nearing them.


    They turned to him and stepped back at a pace. Then they bowed respectfully, as if to a divine figure. "Oh, uh...


    "Avatar Nendas, how may we aid you?"


    "I wouldn''t spread rumors," said Nendas, not minding the extra respect. "My Uncle and King Samrasa have plenty of reason to meet. And your implications are not appropriate." What they were suggesting was unthinkable. Possible but unthinkable nonetheless.


    "And please, do not refer to me by title." That last part was spoken for him, and he was surprised by it. Shifting, he looked around. "Where is Sarafi?"


    "Lord Munsuf and your cousin have departed on business," said Maka. "He wishes to oversee the farmlands and ensure she understands things operate. They will be gone for a week."


    Nendas nodded. "I see.


    "I suppose I won''t be able to see them before I go."


    That was all very convenient for Uncle, wasn''t it? He didn''t want to be associated with what happened here from the sounds of things. Or perhaps he was too much of a coward to look Nendas in the eye after this. Nendas genuinely didn''t understand how he could consider this a disservice.


    Whatever scheme they''d had planned, it would have been better executed without Jaha. So bringing her into this was a mistake and unsuitable. Except that thought didn''t seem entirely like his own.


    Nendas said his goodbyes. Then walked his childhood home and finally met the entourage of King Samsara the next day. It all passed in a blur, and he found his senses heightened, seeming to see people in light and shadow.


    Soon enough, in what seemed an instant, Nendas found himself walking. He was leaving the castle and walking toward the King''s company, which stood at the base of the hill. The banner was held aloft, but a man barred his path as he walked.


    He was a giant man, holding a sword that was as tall as a smaller man. He wore heavy armor, and a long black beard stretched down his chest. Judging from his tan skin, he was of foreign lineage. "Ah, so you''re here on time. Surprised from a man who is half a woman."


    "What did you say?" asked Nendas, gripping his sword. What was he doing? This was an irrational act that could get him killed.


    "Don''t take that tone with me, boy," said the man. "I am Ralign, head of Samrasa''s guard. I hope you have everything needed for travel because we won''t be stopping or going back."


    Nendas calculated that confronting this man at this point would be a poor decision. A voice told him he''d already been too quick to seek a confrontation. It was obvious he''d get little respect from his company. "I have everything I need."


    "Good," said the man. "Then let''s go. Fall in line."


    Ralign led Nendas to the convey, and Nendas got several looks he did not like. As Ralign came before Samrasa, Nendas chose to make himself scarce.


    "King Samrasa, all is for our departure," said Ralign.


    "Excellent, Ralign," said Samrasa. "Then let us begin."


    Nendas followed at the rear of the formation. As they walked together, Nendas noticed many dark glances directed at him. Suspecting it was because of what he is, Nendas decided not to walk with them. These men were quite effective, and he doubted they much appreciated him.


    As the column walked, Nendas observed and said nothing. For a few days, this continued, and Nendas ate alone, far away from the others. This was not his first journey or time sleeping outside, so he did not disgrace himself. On the fifth day, Samrasa was approached by a soldier who approached him with a spear. "My King, the executions you commanded have been carried out."


    "I see," said Samrasa. "Well, that unpleasant business has been carried out."


    The executions, as it turned out, turned out to be a large number of men. They were nailed to crosses and bleeding from wounds where they had been lanced. All of them were naked, and the cross was stained red.


    "...Who are these men?" asked Nendas of Ralign.


    "Degenerates," said Ralign. "Servants of Zigildrazia, or at least some of them. Others were seen engaging in the orgies of the Demon Queen. Homosexuals and deviants, all of them; their deaths are necessary. The depravity they represent must be weeded out so this world can flower."


    "But this method is..." Nendas paused on how best to explain it. "My clan has always used swifter methods."


    "It can take as much as a week," said Ralign with a grin. "They nail your hands and feet to the cross and hoist you up. Then, if you''re lucky, they put a lance through you. If you''re not, you lie there, bleeding slowly as you strive to breathe. Little by little, your lungs collapse, and you suffocate.


    "You''re not a degenerate, are you?" Was this a deliberate threat or an attempt at black comedy? Both seemed a fair answer.


    Nendas carefully took a step back.


    "Don''t scare the boy, Ralign," said Samrasa. "Not everyone understands the necessity of our actions.


    "And it''s never pleasant, doing what needs to be done."


    So Samrasa was trying to ingratiate himself to Nendas for some purpose. Ralign disliked Nendas for some reason. Whatever the reason, however, things changed when they moved through a pass.


    "Look there!" cried the lookout.


    "Assassins! To arms!" cried Ralign.


    "For the King!" said another. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And just like that, Nendas found himself in his first battle. A crowd of men charged down the hill in large numbers. They wore armor and held weapons, but Nendas noticed they did not seem well-trained. As he drew his sword, he went with his fellows into battle.


    Parrying a sword, Nendas swiftly disarmed the man with a flick of his curved blade. Once done, he threw the man down. From there, he parried a stroke meant for his head and sent the blade spinning away with a move. Another blow rapped his enemy on the head before he kicked him down.


    A third came at Nendas with a huge axe, and Nendas stepped aside before putting a blade to the man''s throat. The man dropped his axe and fell to one knee.


    "Yield," said Nendas to the other two.


    A glance around revealed that the attackers had been repulsed. Most of them were dead, and the rest were being killed. But those he''d spared had their hands raised.


    "Excellent work, men! We''ve run the rest of them off! Kill the prisoners!" said Ralign before seeing that Nendas had the three alive. "What are you doing? Why are they alive?"


    "Would not King Samrasa wish for there to be captives," said Nendas.


    "What''s the matter, boy? Don''t have the guts to kill your man?" said Ralign.


    Several of the other ones laughed.


    Nendas felt a surge of fury in him, but it felt insignificant. He stayed calm. "If King Samrasa orders them killed, I shall do so myself."


    "What''s all this then," said Samrasa, coming forward.


    "I thought it best to have some captives to tell us where they had come from," said Nendas, not wanting to kill them. "They may have information for us."


    "We don''t need to hear him speak for that," said Samrasa. "Their armor is made in Kulat, and they have much reason to hate us. No doubt it was planned to kill me and send the realm back into anarchy."


    Nendas looked at the men and saw they had a heavy tan and long beards like that of Ralign, only twisted and wild. "But King Samrasa, this man is not from Kulat. His skin is like the merchants I have seen from the far east. They are Babarassian."*


    "Mercenaries, then," said Ralign.


    "What manner of mercenary needs to be dressed in the army of the nation that hires them?" asked Nendas. "Especially when such an assassination would be disguised. Kulat would not be foolish enough to enrage us in such a way. And these men... well, they were incompetent. I''m a green recruit, and these men are... it''s like they''re common highwaymen.


    "If they were trained mercenaries, I would have expected to be crushed."


    "Just what are you trying to say, Avatar of Jaha?" asked Ralign. "Do you question the King?"


    Nendas realized he''d made a major misstep. "...Nothing, I was merely making an observation.


    "Perhaps one of our enemies is seeking to frame Kulat, so we will march to war with them. Then they might fight a weakened opponent."


    Samrasa nodded. "It is worthy of investigation, certainly.


    "Now, execute the assassins."


    Nendas nodded and turned to where the assassins had several men around them. However, as he drew back his blade, he started seeing things. He thought he was this man, having come far from home on behalf of his masters. He was surrounded and about to die, perhaps even set up for it to happen. What was such a person thinking?


    What would his family think about losing him? What friends would he leave behind? What dreams are unfulfilled? And the more Nendas tried to drive the blade home, the more the thoughts filled him. "...With respect, King Samrasa, I am not... while his crime warrants death, Jaha is a Goddess of Peace. It would be against her nature to perform such an act."


    "But not against your nature," said Samrasa in a patient tone. "You are a warrior as well as an Avatar. How can you be expected to perform your duties if you cannot kill?"


    "Yet surely I should avoid it when possible," said Nendas, trying to will himself to strike.


    "Are you too good to kill, boy?" said Ralign. "The King has given you an order, coward! Obey it or-"


    "Enough, Ralign," said Samrasa. "His position is understandable. Being the host of a god is a serious burden. Especially when it disagrees with one''s own nature. It is true, Nendas, that your Goddess abhors death. But it was part of the agreement that you should perform such acts. And does it truly matter whose hands they die at?


    "If you do not kill this man now, one of my men will do it. And you will have failed in your duty as a warrior of the King. Can you do it?"


    Nendas paused. "...Yes, yes, my King, I can."


    "Do it, boy," said Ralign, hefting his sword. "You won''t get another chance."


    Nendas turned, mustered himself, and struck the first captive with his sword. The blow cut into the neck but not deeply enough.


    The man screamed, and blood spewed from it. Drawing back, he struck again, and the head came off. The others he wasted no time with, stabbing each through the neck quickly before they could beg.


    It was before they could see anymore.


    And just like that, Nendas had killed three men. He''d taken their lives, ended them and everything they could have been. He''d tried to avoid doing it, but he''d had to. It was his duty, and they''d attacked him. What else could he have done?


    Forcing himself to stand, Nendas refused to show emotions or cry. Samrasa nodded, and even Ralign seemed somewhat impressed.


    "Well done," said Samrasa, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You''ve killed three men in your first battle. Now, all of you, prepare to move on."


    Nendas must remain an Avatar of Jaha and a warrior at once.


    But he felt violated.


    It was as if a temple had become the fortress of a host of brigands. His actions came before him over and over. He noted that the other warriors treated him with more respect now. He supposed that not many of them had killed three men in their first battle.


    So that was the progress of a sort.


    And then, one night, while he was resting, a hawk descended to block the light of the moon. It landed before him and delivered a scroll, a letter marked with Father''s seal. Opening it, Nendas read it.


    Son,


    I knew nothing of any such arrangements by your uncle. Take no action in haste if you have not already. I do not think this offer was what it appears. My brother may be seeking to decrease your authority in the clan.


    I have taught you to trust your family.


    However, I believe you have been manipulated. If you read this, I will see you when you arrive in Tarasif. We will discuss what must be done then.


    For now, know that negotiations are proceeding well. I look forward to seeing you, though I wish it were under happier circumstances.


    -Your Father.


    If Father believed it, then it must be so.


    The inheritance meant nothing to Nendas. But something had to be done about something.*


    *No relation to the Goddess Imogen, I think. There are plenty of people named Imogen in the world. However, the name may have been foreshadowing within the text.


    Mother tells me that Imogen rose to power some decades before this point. However, I doubt a Goddess of Thieves would have much interest in the Husafa Clan. Law-abiding citizens do not seem her champion of choice.


    *I believe Nendas had fallen into a consensual form of mind control. I experienced similar feelings under the spell of Arraxia. Most mind control is based on focusing a person''s perceptions wholly on a given target. Then you press impulses toward that target. Once there, it is a matter of pressing their will until they break or you are driven out.


    Jaha''s own spell is unique in that the target also seems to be the recipient.


    It merges their will with hers to utilize them as a vessel to achieve their goals. It seems to have been done only to those who willingly choose it. However, it is also possible that the connection works in two ways. Nendas'' own nature may have been influencing how she made her plans.


    *Babarrassians have not come much into any of my writings so far, and I feel some context will be helpful. They were, at one time, the terror of the seas, as Escor will attest. They long-ranging ships situated on a continent south of Themious. Often they would raid Tarasif and the lands around and even struck as far west as Escor. This was, happily, before the Viokinar wars. However, the Babarrasians were even worse.


    Virtually no writings portray the Babarassians in a favorable light. They are a byword for irredeemable brutality in the places they walked. Some records in Escor portray Viokinar warriors as noble or strong. Not a single one I have seen has anything good to say about the Babarassians.


    Ironically, I do not think these men were Babarassians because of this. For one thing, Nendas could hardly have met one. Mountains had been raised long ago along the southern shore by Barden. And the only land route they''d have into Tarasif would be through Dinis or Spirta. Both of them were powerful forces in their own right.


    In addition, if my reckoning of time is correct, the Babarrasians were in the middle of a long period of decay. Dinisian naval bases in the Islands of Power had hemmed them in. McShore and Chaminus proved an ideal place to knock out their fleets. And Sorn''s superior naval organization had routed them several times. As such, I find it unlikely such a company of convenient ne-do-wells could be found. Even if they could be, they should be the last person I would assassinate a King. They''d be the talk of every village that walked through.


    As such, I believe that they were some other, less remarkable ethnic group that was despised. One that would not have been well-known enough to get the desired effect. You could have just as easily had Viokinar minotaurs or satyrs serve the same purpose.


    As such, the Babarassians are likely a mere poetic flourish. Thus symbolizing moral decay in the nation.


    *This odd conclusion to the chapter seems to have resulted from translation. The original phrasing had certain implications and plays on words.


    Many of them foreshadow future events. However, they have yet to come across at all here, and Tanith made no effort to replicate the effect. Unfortunately, my divine understanding of languages gives me no appreciation for language itself. Only the base meaning was translated through my own interpretation.


    Having not studied Tarasifian, I cannot appreciate the subtleties.

 Chapter 107 - Four: Showmanship

    Taha lived for nothing beyond her knives and finding ways to use them.


    It had taken years of training to achieve the finesse she wielded now. Hurling one knife, she tossed another after it faster. Both knives bounced off one another and sank into two different targets. The crowd cheered as Taha drew out two more knives, spinning them around.


    Hurling three at once, she shot one into three more targets in the archery range. Leaping back, she spun in midair to land on her hands. Cartwheeling back, she gained more and more distance. From there, Taha landed and hurled her knives again, this time at one target. Each landed in place so that soon four knives had become a symbol.


    The cross of Kulat.


    There were cheers, but not to the same degree that Taha would have liked. Halting, Taha took her second belt of knives from Rokas. Tying it over her empty belt, she turned to the people. "Would anyone care to present a target for me to shoot? Any target."


    "Are you certain you should be using such weak techniques, Taha?" asked Rokas. "Surely you could do better."


    "Always save your best trick for last, Rokas," said Taha. "You don''t want things to end in an anticlimax."


    "Ah, I see," said Rokas.


    Several more targets were provided. Taha followed their shots again and again, making increasingly difficult shots. As she did, she enjoyed the crowd watching her progress starstruck. But she also noted a bird''s sound and that the wind only came into this target range from the left side. She was wearing no great colors, only a brown tunic and pants, but that alone was good for her. Checking her hair buns to make sure they were still tied up, Taha smiled.


    "People of Kulat, thank you for your time! Thank you!" said Taha to them. "It has been a true honor to perform for the people of this city! However, I am getting to the end of my act!


    "So, this last technique I attribute to Tamar, Goddess of the Winds!"


    A convenient gust of wind added credibility to a made-up god. Taha liked the feel of the wind on her face as she always had. Rokas set up the targets. Taha smiled, drawing out the daggers and juggling them in her hands. She was catching them again with a winning smile to the crowd. "For this last act, I will make two throws and hit eight targets!"


    "Impossible," said someone. "No one can do that!"


    A bird was chirping in the trees above. That was an opportunity.


    "Oh, a doubter, are we?" asked Taha. "Well, by all means, doubt away! Rokas, thank you for the blades!


    "Since you doubt me, I shall do my target practice blindfolded!"


    Incredulous sounds came from the people. Taha took a moment to memorize her surroundings. On cue, Rokas came up behind her and tied the blindfold. From there, he turned her around to draw up the suspense. Within the darkness, Taha heard people holding their breath. And then she heard the birds chirping and the slight feel of the wind.


    Luck was with her as always.


    Taha turned into position, drawing out eight knives and holding them by the handle in a cluster. Hurling them, she then hurled the ninth knife after them and waited. This was the moment where she either botched the entire thing or succeeded.


    She''d done it before in practice. Never in front of a crowd.


    And then roaring cheers rose from all around them, and Taha drew off her blindfold. She smiled as she saw that every dagger had connected. She''d known she could do it!


    "She did it!" said one.


    "Thank you! Thank you!" said Taha.


    Next, things shifted to the questions. Taha enjoyed being asked questions and liked answering them in turn.


    "Where did you learn techniques like that?" asked a man.


    "I was chosen to be a Priestess of Tamar," said Tamar. "However, the path she set before me led me here rather than as a priestess."


    "Then you were among her chosen?" asked a woman. "You aren''t blonde. Your hair is as brown as any of ours."


    "My ascension as a priestess was called off to demonstrate her techniques," said Taha. That was technically correct. "Now, next question, please."


    "Does Tamar have a side in the coming war? Will she side with us against Tarasif?" asked another.


    Great, now they wanted to know how the cult was going to pick sides. "I don''t presently speak for Tamar. Next question, please."


    They finished their demonstration and were paid very, very well for their time. Together Taha and Rokas returned to the main city, counting their money. Kulat''s capital of Kulat was a small city, not comparable to Tarasif. But it was well known for having many villages around it. Each one was dedicated to a different god, so Taha avoided all of them.


    Some of the priests might have contacts in Tamara.


    "Alright, we did it!" said Taha. "I told you I could get us honest work, Rokas."


    "Maybe, but I would much prefer to put my fighting skills to work in the wars," said Rokas, examining one of his hands. He was deadly with those, but he''d never gotten used to traveling like this.


    "Not gonna happen for a while," said Taha. "And your parents have shut the door on that, haven''t they?"


    "I take your point," said Rokas sadly. "We made a huge amount with that act, Taha. We could likely make good money here."


    Taha shook her head. "No, we''re moving out today, Rokas. Pack everything."


    "Why?" asked Rokas, surprised.


    "People are starting to ask too many questions about Tamar," said Taha. "I must keep my connection with the cult front and center for the act.


    "But the way I see it, sooner or later, someone will figure out I''m not in Tamar''s good graces."


    "The Cult, you mean?" asked Rokas. "Or the Goddess?"


    "Tamar, the cult, same thing, really," said Taha, shrugging. "Anyway, sooner or later, people will figure out I don''t believe in gods."


    "Why don''t you believe in gods, anyway?" asked Rokas.


    "Because it''s ridiculous," said Taha. "The wind acts the way it does because that is how nature works. There is nothing outside of nature."


    "Well, how do you do all these things then?" asked Rokas.


    "I''ve trained to throw daggers," said Taha. "It''s a very difficult technique, and I learned it. You might as well say that you know how to punch and kick because Elranor taught you to."


    "He did do so through my trainer," said Rokas.


    "No, your trainer taught you because he knew how to fight, and your family hired him," said Taha. "He knew how to fight because he''d been trained. And the technique existed because people learned it was the best way to kill people with your bare hands."


    "My techniques are not meant for killing. They are meant for fighting," said Rokas.


    "Whatever you say," said Taha. She''d never seen the point in using a skill if you wouldn''t use it whenever possible. "I don''t believe in anything I can''t see."


    "And how do you account for miracles and magic?" asked Rokas.


    "A result of people believing they will work," said Taha as they neared the boarding house. "The ''Gods'' everyone sees are mass hallucinations. They are a result of the collective unconscious. Or an elaborate hoax.


    "Doesn''t matter to me.


    "They do not exist.


    "Anyway, it doesn''t matter what I believe. We''ve got to get out of here and fast. Tamar will be after us soon." They found their room, got their things together, and left after paying their fair.


    "Have they tried to kill you?" asked Rokas.


    "No, but I did walk off with all their secrets. So clearly, I must have angered them," said Taha, though a part of her said she was being ridiculous. "I doubt they''d take a humiliation like that lying down." What humiliation, said the same part. Their techniques were being advertised all over. "We''ve got to keep heading toward Tarasif."


    "Why Tarasif?" asked Rokas.


    "Nobody believes in gods there anymore. I figure it''ll be a good fit," said Taha.


    "And what will we do when we get there?" asked Rokas.


    Rokas could always be relied on to ask the right questions. "I think I could teach knife-throwing. Or maybe join the military.


    "Still, we''ve got to keep our eyes out for a proper mark."


    "Mark?" asked Rokas.


    "Well yeah," said Taha. "We don''t want to join as ordinary infantry; we''ve got to make a good impression on the right people."


    "Well, what do you have in mind?" asked Rokas.


    "I don''t know, but I''ll know it when I see it," said Taha.


    And they set off.


    Rokas was an excellent woodsman, quickly leading them across the country by many secret paths. They soon got over the border without being seen and headed over a few days through the lands of Tarasif. These places were very prosperous looking. But the number of gruesome executions was slightly disturbing. Taha had always figured that persecution would decrease if you got rid of religion.


    Instead, there was someone being executed for some crime or other at every crossroads. Taha didn''t much like the blood and screaming, while Rokas looked sick at several points. She was glad he didn''t throw up, though; it would have wasted their food. Not that they ate anything when nearing a crossroads after that point.


    At each village, they would demonstrate their skill with knives for pay. Then they would seek hospitality from villagers. Eventually, they came within sight of Tarasif, and Taha smiled. It stood upon the horizon, the walls reaching high. Many great temples rose high above their walls.


    "So, there''s Tarasif," said Taha, liking the look of it. There were sure to be real opportunities there. But opportunities for what? She''d need an in. "We''ll stay at one of the villages tonight."


    "Why?" asked Rokas.


    Taha pointed to one of the villages, smaller, with a smaller wall but nice houses. "Because that village has some very nice houses in it. Someone is staying there, and they have some pretty heavy weaponry. I''ve always wanted to get a look at Tarasifian blades."


    "So what do we do?" asked Rokas.


    Taha considered it as she walked toward it. Coming to the top of a hill, Taha considered how to get an in. She decided she was sick of wandering and wanted to get some real authority. She could make her status as an atheist obvious and toe the line, but Rokas wouldn''t like that. And anyway, atheism was in Tarasif, even if no one would admit it.


    No, the real opportunity was by siding with religion. If someone wasn''t in a favorable position, they needed all the help they could get. Getting in at the start of a new era would only take a conversion. Taha was going to be old one day, far from now, and she''d like a means of arranging retirement. Setting up a new religion or renewing an old one would be a good way of getting that. So long as she was in charge, she wouldn''t have a problem.


    Then she saw her.


    She was a radiantly beautiful girl with long brown hair. She was very slim, wore the clothes of a warrior, and trained in a field. On her brown was the symbol of a bird taking flight, the symbol of Jaha. The sworn enemy of Tamar.


    "Hmm, that girl down there is pretty cute, isn''t she?" mused Taha, calculating her chances.


    Luck was entirely in your control, contrary to what most thought.


    Luck was simply being prepared to take opportunities when they came up. Everyone got opportunities, and the more you took, the more you got.


    "That is a man, Tara," said Rokas. "And they crucify people for that kind of thing in Tarasif."Wait, it was a guy? From a distance, she''d thought it was a she. Come to think of it, his frame was masculine, and he had the muscles. Still, a very handsome guy, so it made no difference to her.


    "Oh, really?


    "Doesn''t matter. Luck is with us."


    "I thought you didn''t believe in luck," said Rokas. "Or destiny or anything."


    "Luck is a skill," said Taha. "Anyone can be lucky. You just need to be aware of what you have and be ready to take opportunities when they show up. Take the right chances, and you''ll get more options like them.


    "That''s the secret to achieving greatness.


    "People who are nobodies are nobodies because they choose to be that. They don''t have the guts to be exceptional. Let''s go talk with our friend down there."


    "Taha, didn''t you hear what I said? In Tarasif, they crucify homosexuals. We have to be careful," said Rokas. "I was lucky just to get thrown out of my home in Kulat."


    "Will you relax," said Taha. "Nobody cares about the law. It''s just the way rich people keep poor people from murdering them for their stuff. So as long as you are with rich people, you can do whatever you want. Rape, murder, theft all go away when you have power. There''s no such thing as sin for a powerful man.


    "Trust me; if we play our cards right, you can lead whatever lifestyle you want."


    "I don''t want to lead whatever lifestyle I want. I want to lead a good lifestyle," said Rokas.


    "Then you can lead that instead," said Taha with a shrug. "Now come on, he''s not at home here, or he wouldn''t be alone. His clothes are good, so he''s rich, and he''s wearing a sword, so he is a warrior. Still trying to figure out why he''s bearing the symbol of Jaha, though.


    "Let''s see if he works as a mark.


    "I''ll go down there alone; you stick around here. Best not to overwhelm him."


    "I concur," said Rokas. "You are overwhelming enough by yourself. Still...


    "Taha, that symbol on his head is only ever born by one person. The Avatar of Jaha."


    "Isn''t that usually a girl, though?" asked Taha.


    "It is always a girl," said Roka. "There has never been a male one."


    "Eh, well, that''s something I can start a conversation with then," said Taha.


    Then she made her way down, drawing up a knife and peering at her reflection. It was one of the Tamar sets she''d gotten for making it as a priestess. The magic in it made it so she could see her reflection, provided she maintained it, which she did, of course.


    Drawing out a comb, Taha straightened out her features. She wished she weren''t so ordinary-looking. She was pretty in a down-to-earth way, and she hated it. Taha had always wanted to be stunning. To turn heads wherever she walked. But the gods didn''t bless peasants with that appearance because they didn''t exist.


    Taha hated them all the same, for the most part.


    Finishing her preparations, she crept up behind him. He was doing very elaborate move sets with his sword. "Excuse me, are you the Avatar of Jaha?"


    The boy, though he was about Taha''s age, whirled around with a start. He halted as he saw her and quickly noticed the knives at her belt. He lowered the blade but glanced around and noted Rokas. His guard was not dropped.


    Smart.


    "How did you know?" asked the boy.


    "Well, you''ve got this sort of strange look about you. And, well, I almost thought you were here when we first ran into each other," said Taha.


    "I assure you, I am not Jaha," said the boy, sounding faintly offended. "Merely her Avatar."


    Taha nodded. The practice of Avatars happened a little under a century ago, right? It was after the Incarnation of the Land was shot dead. All the gods had wanted one to act on their behalf. Although some stories argued Jaha had avatars before them. "Right, so uh, what brings you out here?"


    "I could just as easily ask you the same question," noted the boy.


    "I''m a performer looking for a change of careers," admitted Taha. "My name is Taha, no last name. I''m from a land far to the east of Kulat."


    The boy paused and seemed to look her up and down. "I see.


    "And where is your companion from?"


    Taha pretended to be surprised. She didn''t want him to think she was too competent. "Oh, um... my companions, right! Uh..."


    "I am quite keen of eye," said the boy.


    Somewhat arrogant, she could use that. But for now, she focused on looking slightly comical. It''s something you couldn''t do when stunning and brave. "Right, well, Rokas is from a noble family. Because of some... unfortunate misunderstandings, we ended up traveling together."


    "And you are the leader?" guessed Nendas. There was an incredulous note in his voice.


    Taha was actually flattered he''d considered the possibility. But that didn''t make it a good thing. "I''d prefer to think of it as a partnership. Rokas, he knows you''re there."


    Rokas came down to meet them. "I might have expected as much. Stealth and deception are of no use against the gods."


    "I am not Jaha," said Nendas. "Is there something you want from me?"


    "Actually, we were hoping we could be part of your entourage," admitted Taha. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "To what end?" asked Nendas.


    "Well, you seem to be in need of one," said Taha. "And we are in need of an employer. Working with an Avatar of Jaha would also give us certain protections."


    "My situation is different," said Nendas simply. "I will be going into war, sooner or later."


    "With Kulat?" asked Taha. "Well, that works out perfectly. We''ve spent some months in Kulat. Rokas has explored much of the wilds, and we know the secret ways."


    "What makes you think we''re going to war with Kulat?" asked Nendas, more sharply than he ought to have. He was kind of out of touch with ordinary people, wasn''t he?


    "Well, everyone in Kulat seems convinced there is a war coming," said Taha. "The general opinion is that Tarasif is going to launch an invasion eventually. In fact, that''s part of the reason why we left.


    "When one has a controversial opinion, it''s usually not a good idea to be in a country at war. You usually get used as scapegoats. Ordinary people hate taking responsibility for their own screwups. It''s easier to just point at someone who can''t fight back and blame them."


    "And what controversial opinion did you have?" asked Nendas.


    Taha considered the best possible answer. And it was the truth without implication Rokas. "...Let''s just say that I don''t have the same faith in the gods that other people do."


    "She''s a sound atheist," said Rokas.


    "Rokas!" said Taha, turning to him incredulously. "We aren''t supposed to be making that public knowledge!" The comical effect was important, though, and this helped.


    "Atheism?" asked Nendas. "I was aware that such a belief system is theoretically possible. I didn''t think anyone held it."


    "Eh, atheism is more of a lack of a belief system in the face of insufficient evidence," said Taha. "All of the cults I''ve gone through are pretty weak." However, a part of her mind seemed offended. She''d learned a lot from Tamar.


    "I am the literally Avatar of a God," said Nendas. "You are standing right in front of me."


    "Yeah, and since you believe it, and everyone else believes it, it would hardly matter if you weren''t, would it?" asked Taha.


    "You said yourself said you mistook me for Jaha," said Nendas, voice incredulous.


    "Technically, I mistook you for a girl, and Rokas pointed out the brand on your head," said Taha. "Ironically, that was after I realized my error.


    "We... um... kind of figured it would be more flattering to mistake you for a deity than a girl."


    "So you lied to me," said Nendas.


    "I didn''t lie," said Taha. "I embellished the truth to make it seem more palpable."


    Nendas stared at her. "Do you know what a lie is, Taha?"


    "Yes," said Taha. "Of course, I know what a lie is." She tried to look like she''d been caught in the act. It helped with the comical, everygirl appearance.


    "I don''t think you do," said Rokas.


    Time to prove her worth. "A lie is a statement that corrupts the truth. It misrepresented reality in a way that harms the interests of the person you are speaking to. Not all deception is a lie.


    "A parent tells their child that monsters will get them if they misbehave. But they don''t mean it literally. It is a story that does not fit neatly into reality but imparts certain essential truths. It is a metaphor. Usually for the inherent character flaws that come with perceived misdeeds."


    Nendas eyed her for a moment. "So, you lied to me, then.


    "And by your definition, you have lied to me again to cover for your previous misdeeds.


    "What do you want? Money? Some position of influence?


    "Answer that honestly, and I''ll consider it."


    He was good. But he was also in desperate need of subordinates, as Taha had counted on. This was why you never joined the side everyone thought would win. Not if it was possible to turn things around. Opportunities came from hardship, and stronger powers did not endure hardship. How to answer?


    "...To tag along with you until a better opportunity comes up, honestly," said Taha, looking down at her feet sadly. "We don''t know this place very well."


    Nendas nodded. "Very well, you may do so, so long as you do not misuse that position. Your actions will reflect on me. If you disgrace the name of Jaha, your throat will be cut, and I will watch your body fall like a felled tree to the cold earth. And that is no metaphor."*


    That was... unexpectedly brutal. Taha kind of liked it, and it was a perfectly reasonable threat to make. Fear was an important part of the motivation.


    However, at that moment, a young girl rushed up from behind. "Jaha..."


    "Yes, what is it, child?" asked Nendas, sheathing his sword.


    "My mother is sick. Could you help her?" asked the child.


    "Of course, I will help her," said Nendas, and his tone was... different, like he was a different person. "Lead the way, and I shall use my power to aid her.


    "Both of you follow me and watch."


    And he walked back with the girl to the house. There Taha saw the light emanate as he laid his hands on an ill woman and healed her. One of these days, the usual miraculous sleight of hand, she really had to figure out how they did that. It seemed like a good trick to know, especially since the pain instantly cleared up.


    "By the grace of peace, let the chaos in your body be stilled. Let harmony be returned," said Nendas. "Now, child, she will live. But you must repay this kindness to others. Lead me to any others who might need such help."


    "Yes, of course, Queen Jaha," said the girl.


    However, Nendas ended up getting dragged into a whole set of other engagements. He was soon healing people left and right and looked almost all-loving.


    "...That''s not acting, is it?" mused Taha, noticing his composure change.


    "I do not believe so. He seems almost two people," said Rokas.


    Either way, this was an interesting situation that could get them all killed. Taha watched it happen and saw Nendas standing alone. He seemed to be in another place entirely, and Taha moved toward him.


    "...Are you alright?" asked Taha.


    "My name is Nendas," said Nendas quickly. "Now, I have work to do."


    And then the healing began.


    *I have no explanation I can prove for this particular turn of phrase. Tanith translated all of this before she ever went to Gel Carn. Thus it is impossible that she referred to her encounter with Gail Arengeth. Even if she had, I see no reason why she would bring it up in this context.


    Reincarnation or divine influence, perhaps? Nendas eventually finished his work while Taha and Rokas watched.


    They seemed intent on following behind him, which he needed clarification on. Why would they just appear out of nowhere and want to join him? He suspected Taha wanted something out of all this. But it might have just been that she wanted what she said she wanted. She was beautiful in a tomboyish way, but that did not influence the matter.


    The threat of death hadn''t scared them off, though. Making it had messed with his head, and he had a headache still. Using Jaha''s healing powers helped a bit, but he felt it wasn''t him using them.


    So, Nendas reluctantly decided he had to seek blessing from King Samrasa. So he went before them. "Now, I will introduce you to Ralign, King Samrasa''s Captain of the Guard. If he allows you to accompany us, you may. Otherwise...


    "Well, I suppose you could tail me miles behind."


    Nendas would benefit from having someone to assist him.


    "That seems the only other option, Nendas," mused Rokas.


    Rokas was speaking to him as an equal? Nendas felt a sense of offense at that. "That is..." However, Jaha reminded him that he was not a noble anymore. "Nevermind, I''m not technically part of the Hasafa Clan right now anyway."


    "Why not?" asked Taha.


    "The Avatar of Jaha belongs only to Jaha, just as the Hasafa Clan does," said Nendas. "One cannot have any other allegiance." Who were they to speak so freely? Rokas looked like he might be a noble of some sort. He had the facial features and build of one who eats well growing. But what would he be out here?


    "Then why are you traveling with King Samrasa?" asked Taha.


    Nendas swallowed his pride. "My allegiance to Jaha obligates me to serve King Samrasa. I am her chosen servant by divine right. And to Hasafa. I serve them loyally because I do so in Jaha''s will."


    "Couldn''t you admit you became the Avatar for the perks?" asked Taha.


    The question was one that Nendas found infuriating, but he remembered that he was the Avatar of a God. He must speak to everyone as an equal. Jaha would not want him to be unpleasant with others. "I became the Avatar because people asked me to. And you''d do well not to speak out of turn while meeting with Ralign. I am already disliked and don''t need to be hated."


    "Don''t worry, we know when to keep our mouths shut," said Taha.


    At that moment, Ralign showed up. He came up to them, looking furious. "Nendas, what have you been doing?


    "The villagers are talking about you performing miracles! What kind of trickery is this!"


    Trickery? Was he accusing the Goddess Jaha of trickery? Nendas had done as she ordained. "...I am the Avatar of Jaha. It is my purpose to do what she tells me to do."


    "So you decided to start miracle-working without my permission?" asked Ralign.


    "I was not aware you wished the people housing us ill, Ralign," said Nendas. "Is not Jaha the patron deity of King Samrasa?" Technically anyway, that had been a condition for the alliance.


    "Yes," said Ralign.


    "And isn''t it better if people believe in her?" asked Nendas, who was not willing to renounce his faith for his own life.


    "You know damn well the truth, so I see no reason to tell it to you again!" said Ralign.


    Nendas guessed that Ralign hated Jaha and wanted to see her religion fail. He didn''t care that Nendas had healed those people because he helped a religion by healing them. Ralign would have rather all die horribly than let a priest appear good.


    So Nendas decided to bait him. "...I must admit to ignorance. What is this truth you are talking about? And why do you presume to be able to counteract an order from Jaha herself directly?"


    Ralign stiffened, and several of his men murmured. "One of these days, Nendas, you''ll go too far. When you''re screwing while crucified, I''ll be somewhere smiling."


    "I do not understand what I have done to wrong you," said Nendas, keeping his face stoic. "Did not King Samrasa request I accompany you?"


    "For reasons beyond my comprehension, yes," said Ralign.


    "And doesn''t King Samrasa know full well what the Avatar of Jaha does?" asked Nendas.


    "Of course!" said Ralign.


    "And did he instruct me that I was not to heal sick and injured people?" asked Nendas.


    "He did not," said Ralign, setting a hand to his sword.


    Nendas mirrored the motion but did not take hold of his sword. He thought that this was going to get bloody soon. Nendas decided it would be best to spare Ralign after defeating him. Although Jaha reminded him that defeating him would be difficult. "Then I do not see what grave crime I have committed to make you hate me so?"


    "Worthless brat!" said Ralign, drawing his sword.


    His sword was out, and Nendas stepped away from the blade as it fell. It passed within inches of him, but Nendas probably made it look easy. With another strike, he moved out of the way, dodging and weaving without drawing a blade. Ralign was good, his stance was excellent, and he was getting many near hits.


    Even so, Nendas probably looked stronger by not having his sword drawn.


    Finally, a soldier ran forward. "Please, stop this. No killing!"


    "Do no harm to the Avatar of Jaha!" said a man.


    "I agree," said Nendas, halting. "This fight has no meaning."


    "Enough," said a voice.


    Nendas looked up to see King Samrasa approaching them. "Ralign, Nendas, you do our hosts a disservice. Nendas, a word."


    Nendas walked with Samrasa to one side. As he did, he examined Samrasa''s movements to see if he might run him through. Samrasa was wearing a sword, after all. However, Samrasa halted and talked. "I presume this was about miracles?"


    "As far as I can gather, King Samrasa, yes," said Nendas.


    Samrasa paused. "Very well. I should have foreseen this.


    "Suffice it to say that Ralign and his associates are hostile to religion of all kinds. They have had several bad experiences with the worst aspects of religion. I expect you to tolerate them."


    "As you wish," said Nendas, meaning that Ralign was allowed to run roughshod over the faithful. Any objection would make a stir and therefore was bad.


    "Now, regarding miracles, I know you mean well," said Samrasa. "And you have not done anything wrong, so much as... unfortunate. We are at a critical stage in the development of Tarasif. We hope to remove some of the problematic religions.


    "If Jaha starts performing miracles, other cults will do the same. It will reinvigorate support for the worst aspects of religion."


    "You wish me not to perform any further miracles on behalf of Jaha?" asked Nendas, allowing himself to look disappointed. He must appear the picture of youthful recklessness, desiring to please him.


    "I ask you to appeal to convince her that the timing would be most unfortunate," said Samrasa. "And I must insist."


    Nendas bowed. "...As you wish, my King. I will do as you ask."


    "Now, who are these you''ve brought with you?" asked Samrasa, taking him toward Taha and Rokas. Taha was scrutinizing things.


    "Two individuals who wish to join my entourage," said Nendas. "I have no idea why, but I don''t want to humor them. I wished to get your permission." Technically, he did not need to ask; he had to appear subservient.


    "Do as you like, of course," said Samrasa. "But remember that you are responsible for them. Any wrongdoing on their part will reflect on you."


    Nendas nodded. "I understand."


    And he ended up left alone with Taha and Rokas. And Nendas was very glad for their company. Some of the looks the soldiers were giving him were downright murderous.


    "...Wow, so he''s about to do a purge, huh?" asked Taha.


    "You don''t know that," said Rokas.


    "What do you mean by that?" asked Nendas, letting surprise into his tone.


    "Well, it''s just... I think King Samrasa is about to kill many people," said Taha.


    "Why would you think that?" asked Nendas.


    "Well, that''s why he doesn''t want you doing miracles," said Taha. "He''s about to tear down some temples or something. Whatever it is, it''ll offend religious people. So he wants religious people to look as bad as possible.


    "So, he intends to tear down any good works you perform."


    "Taha is it wise to say this-" began Rokas.


    "Let her speak, Rokas," said Nendas. "I need people that speak their minds. Not people who mindlessly obey." Taha shared many of the beliefs of his enemies and would be valuable for that purpose.


    "Good, because I don''t mindlessly obey anyone," said Taha. "But I was mostly done."


    "...Can either of you fight?" asked Nendas.


    "Yes, very well," said Taha. "One of the rites of passage in my old cult involved killing by stealth. And another involved just killing." How did she not have any scars?


    "Rokas, you are from Kulat, yes?" asked Nendas.


    "I am," said Rokas.


    Nendas nodded, seeing an opportunity. "Very well. Tell me everything you know of the place, and then prepare to tell King Samrasa. The understanding of an educated and well-traveled noble could be invaluable.


    "And we must be valuable if we are to survive."


    "Sounds good to me," said Taha. "This is way more interesting than throwing knives for fun. So let''s go for it."


    That was why this commoner had chosen Nendas as a mark. She''d known he was in no position to refuse and that she could speak as an equal.


    Still, Tarasif awaited.


    On the King''s company went, drawing nearer to the other villages. As they walked, however, Ralign motioned to the village. Several black-robed monks were walking to heal them. Their heads were unshaven, marking them as belonging to the sect of Elranor. Most religions expected men to shave their heads and beards.


    "Look there, the worshippers of Elranor," said a man.


    "Why are these religious folk out in such numbers?" asked Ralign. "There must be a reason for it.


    "Shall I-"


    "No, Ralign, you shall not," said Samrasa. "We''ll speak directly to them and see how they account for their actions."


    At that moment, a baldheaded monk approached, though he had a long beard. Samrasa moved forward and nodded to him. "High Priest Surras, what are you doing here?"


    "I saw your party approaching, King Samrasa," said Surras. "I thought it best to explain to you why your order was disobeyed personally."


    "Very well then, what happened?" asked Samrasa.


    "We detected several diseases growing within the populace," said Surras. "It began to spread through several villages at an alarming rate. If left unchecked, it would have spread to the city, and many would have died. Such a thing could have compromised Tarasif to our enemies.


    "So, the temples united in healing all we could. We are nearly in control of the situation."


    "As good an explanation as can be made. I will pardon the defiance," said Samrasa, nodding.


    Surras departed, and Samrasa looked to the men. Uneasy murmurs came from them. They did not understand why Samrasa was tolerating this.


    "See now the serpent in the grass," said Samrasa. "The God of Healing is indeed benevolent to heal us of disease. Especially given who his chief ally is."


    "His chief ally is Laevian," said Nendas to Rokas and Taha. They might not have known.


    "I know; we both studied," said Taha.


    Nendas was surprised by this. "How? I took you to be of common blood?"


    "I educated myself," said Taha.


    Nendas had always been taught that to learn; one must have a master. "How is such a thing possible?"


    "Just find teachers and get them to teach you," said Taha. "When they have nothing else to teach you, throw them away and find another. Rinse and repeat. I''ve had more mentors than I can count."


    "Don''t you have any loyalty to your masters?" asked Nendas, amazed at her flippant dismissal.


    "I wouldn''t know," said Taha. "I haven''t had a master before you. I''ve got an obligation to you, but I don''t know if I''m loyal. If I am, I''ll stay loyal; if I''m not, I''ll betray you. You can''t know anything about yourself except when looking back."


    And so they walked.


    Nendas found himself intrigued and horrified in equal parts by Taha. "How did you end up here anyway?" he asked.


    "Long story," said Taha. "But the short version is that I was raised in a place with a sky and trees. That and a lot of thugs with delusions of grandeur. Everyone had their place, and society would only be good if everyone knew their place. I was the daughter of a farmer whose family had become quite rich. Over generations of hard work, they''d amassed quite a fortune.


    "Meanwhile, there was a family of greater rank than mine. Except, the one in charge of it had squandered a lot of his money fighting wars. So they were actually a good deal poorer than me.


    "So, I was going to be married off.


    "So I ran off."


    Nendas stared at her incredulously. "You were going to be married to a Lord? And you decided you wanted to marry for love?"


    Taha laughed at that far louder than she ought to. "Nothing of the sort.


    "I don''t care about love or enlightenment or the power of friendship. But I learned a valuable lesson from my parents; This entire social order is nonsense. It''s just a lie agreed upon, so people who are in can rob and steal while killing people who are out.


    "That way, they don''t run out of things to steal.


    "People with the guts to do it take whatever they can and give nothing back."


    That was... considerably more selfish than Nendas had been expected. He briefly wondered if he should part company with her. But he considered that being alone with only Ralign for the company would be worse. "So you abandoned your family?"


    "Why not?" asked Taha. "I had a dozen sisters who could marry in my place. And if I had married the Lord, I''d have been a curiosity. A trophy of sorts. I''d have children and maybe come to love my husband and have grandchildren. And then I''d be forgotten.


    "I could live a ''good'' life, but I''d have no power. I wouldn''t exist."


    "I take it this is why you decided to approach an Avatar of Jaha," mused Nendas.


    "Well, you are dedicated to alternate perspectives, aren''t you?" asked Taha. "The way of Jaha is that all beliefs are but elements of a greater whole. All ideologies and desires ultimately comprise the same, greater and final peace."


    "Provided they know their place, yes," said Nendas.


    Taha laughed hysterically at that line again. Rokas somewhat joined in, but Nendas did not allow himself to. They got several looks from the other men.


    "That''s good. Very good," said Taha. "But I knew my place. I just didn''t want it. I was educated by my parents, like all my sisters. I learned everything I could. When I exhausted one source of knowledge, I looked for more. I learned all kinds of things about farming. And I began to see things that could be improved.


    "When people wouldn''t listen to what I had to say, I found ways to convince them to make them think it was their idea.


    "I knew my place, Nendas. I became my place.


    "And I decided that wasn''t who I wanted to be. So I let my younger sister marry the Lord and became something else."


    Nendas considered how to react. Perhaps to ask about who her family had been. She had to have some remaining loyalty to them. "Who was she? This sister of yours."


    "I don''t know," said Taha. "I''ve forgotten them all. Why should I treat it any better if the world doesn''t want me to be more than a face in the crowd? My Mother, Father, siblings, and town... they''re just backstories.


    "None of them matter anymore."


    "And what do you want? Why are you doing all of this?" asked Nendas.


    Taha looked up at the vast gates of Tarasif as they rose up before her. "I want to grow in power and prestige to a level beyond comprehension. If there are no gods, then I want to become one. I know I''ll never get there, of course, but I want to get as far as I can for myself."


    "And what will you do when you''ve gotten as far as you possibly can?" asked Nendas.


    "Well, after I''ve made my ladder and gotten to the top?" asked Taha. "I guess I''ll pull the ladder up after me."


    "Would it not be better to let others climb up after you?" asked Rokas.


    "Of course not! I had to work hard to get everything I am!" said Taha. "What I am was built from nothing. Why should the simpering and ignorant masses get an easy way to success? My success is because of my own efforts. People should have to work for what they get.


    "If people follow me up the ladder, they''ll just wreck the place.


    "They are peasants, after all."


    Nendas stared at her. "Aren''t you?"


    "Being a peasant has nothing to do with rank. It''s all in the mindset," said Taha. "Don''t try to define me as a noble or a merchant or an artisan. None of them apply.


    "Taha is."


    "Taha is a very sick person," noted Nendas with a laugh, finding her too outrageous to even feel angry.


    "By all means, try to cure me, Nendas," said Taha, drawing pleasantly near momentarily. "Or send me away." And she stepped further away. "Rokas and I can find somebody else to work for. No skin off my nose."


    "I''m not certain that is possible," said Nendas. "But your insight might be valuable."


    Soon they neared the gates and walked through them. A great crowd came out to greet the King, who waved to the people as he did. Nendas walked a little ahead but listened to Taha and Nendas'' conversation.


    "Are you sure about this, Taha?" asked Rokas.


    "More than ever," said Taha. "This is going to be good. Risky, but good." As they passed into the city, Nendas looked at the buildings and people. Most buildings were in good repair, and the streets were remarkably clean. Many people were very interested in seeing Samrasa pass by. Nendas noted alms being given out to the poor.


    "Wow, Tarasif is very nice, isn''t it," said Taha. "Huge buildings, never seen anything bigger. However, Kulat had a few that compare.


    "Have you been here before, Nendas?"


    Why did she insist on speaking to him so casually? Because she lost nothing by him sending her away. And Nendas gained very little. He was going to have to find a way to instill some obedience in her. "No, but my Father should be here. Once I arrive, I will meet with him..." His gaze turned to a hill overlooking the city, and on it was a horrible sight. "More crucifixions.


    "Why does King Samrasa persist in these?"


    "Eh, it''s nasty and good for making a statement, I guess," said Taha. "Maybe he worships Baltoth in secret."


    "Baltoth?" asked Nendas.


    "Yeah, Baltoth is really big on order," said Taha. "His whole thing is order above all else, and he runs his pantheon. The sort of person King Samrasa might follow.


    "So, Ralign has been giving you nothing but dark looks since we started."


    "What of it?" asked Nendas, noticing one now.


    "I think he might try to have you killed," said Taha. "He seems to hate your guts; I don''t think you''re all that convenient for the King Samrasa, and even if you are...


    "He''s reckless."


    "What are you suggesting?" asked Nendas.


    "Don''t do any more miracles; avoid Ralign like the plague and watch your back," said Taha. "Also, stay in a different building than Samrasa. Set yourself up somewhere else.


    "It''ll make it harder for you to get arrested."


    "You have experience with this?" guessed Nendas.


    "Oh yeah, I watched a lot of stuff like this go down when I was in the service of Tamar," said Taha. "The royalty in were always killing each other off. You think I learned knife-throwing for fun?"


    "I''ll keep it in mind," said Nendas.


    He really needed to meet with Father. And also spoke with Jaha.


    At least Taha was easier company on the eyes than Ralign.

 Chapter 108 - Five: Introductions

    Nendas eventually finished his work while Taha and Rokas watched.


    They seemed intent on following behind him, which he was unsure of. Why would they just appear out of nowhere and want to join him? He suspected Taha wanted something out of all this. But it might have just been that she wanted what she said she wanted. She was beautiful in a tomboyish way, but that was no influence on the matter.


    The threat of death hadn''t scared them off, though. Making it had messed with his head, and he had a headache still. Using Jaha''s healing powers helped a bit, but he felt it wasn''t him using them.


    So, Nendas reluctantly decided he had to seek blessing from King Samrasa. So he went before them. "Now, I will introduce you to Ralign, King Samrasa''s Captain of the Guard. If he allows you to accompany us, you may. Otherwise...


    "Well, I suppose you could tail me miles behind."


    Nendas would actually benefit from having someone to assist him.


    "That seems the only other option, Nendas," mused Rokas.


    Rokas was speaking to him as an equal? Nendas felt a sense of offense at that. "That is..." However, Jaha reminded him that he was not a noble anymore. "Nevermind, I''m not technically part of the Hasafa Clan right now anyway."


    "Why not?" asked Taha.


    "The Avatar of Jaha belongs only to Jaha, just as the Hasafa Clan does," said Nendas. "One cannot have any other allegiance." Who were they to speak so freely? Rokas looked like he might be a noble of some sort. He had the facial features and build of one who eats well growing. But what would he be out here?


    "Then why are you traveling with King Samrasa?" asked Taha.


    Nendas swallowed his pride. "My allegiance to Jaha obligates me to serve King Samrasa. I am her chosen servant by divine right. And to Hasafa. I serve them loyally because it is Jaha''s will that I do so."


    "Couldn''t you admit you became the Avatar for the perks?" asked Taha.


    The question was one that Nendas found infuriating, but he remembered that he was the Avatar of a God. He must speak to everyone as an equal. Jaha would not want him to be unpleasant with others. "I became the Avatar because people asked me to. And you''d do well not to speak out of turn while meeting with Ralign. I am already disliked and don''t need to be hated."


    "Don''t worry, we know when to keep our mouths shut," said Taha.


    At that moment, Ralign showed up. He came up to them, looking furious. "Nendas, what have you been doing?


    "The villagers are talking about you performing miracles! What kind of trickery is this!"


    Trickery? Was he accusing the Goddess Jaha of trickery? Nendas had done as she ordained. "...I am the Avatar of Jaha. It is my purpose to do what she tells me to do."


    "So you decided to start miracle-working without my permission?" asked Ralign.


    "I was not aware you wished the people housing us ill, Ralign," said Nendas. "Is not Jaha the patron deity of King Samrasa?" Technically anyway, that had been a condition for the alliance.


    "Yes," said Ralign.


    "And isn''t it better if people believe in her?" asked Nendas, who was not willing to renounce his faith for his own life.


    "You know damn well the truth, so I see no reason to tell it to you again!" said Ralign.


    Nendas guessed that Ralign hated Jaha and wanted to see her religion fail. He didn''t care that Nendas had healed those people because he helped a religion by healing them. Ralign would have rather all die horribly than let a priest appear good.


    So Nendas decided to bait him. "...I must admit to ignorance. What is this truth you are talking about? And why do you presume to be able to counteract an order from Jaha herself directly?"


    Ralign stiffened, and several of his men murmured. "One of these days, Nendas, you''ll go too far. When you''re screwing while crucified, I''ll be somewhere smiling."


    "I do not understand what I have done to wrong you," said Nendas, keeping his face stoic. "Did not King Samrasa request I accompany you?"


    "For reasons beyond my comprehension, yes," said Ralign.


    "And doesn''t King Samrasa know full well what the Avatar of Jaha does?" asked Nendas.


    "Of course!" said Ralign.


    "And did he give me instructions that I was not to heal sick and injured people?" asked Nendas.


    "He did not," said Ralign, setting a hand to his sword.


    Nendas mirrored the motion but did not take hold of his sword. He thought that this was going to get bloody soon. Nendas decided it would be best to spare Ralign after defeating him. Although Jaha reminded him that defeating him would be difficult. "Then I do not see what grave crime I have committed to make you hate me so?"


    "Worthless brat!" said Ralign, drawing his sword.


    His sword was out, and Nendas stepped away from the blade as it fell. It passed within inches of him, but Nendas probably made it look easy. Another strike, he moved out of the way, dodging and weaving without drawing a blade. Ralign was good, his stance was excellent, and he was getting many near hits.


    Even so, Nendas probably looked stronger by not having his sword drawn.


    Finally, a soldier ran forward. "Please, stop this. No killing!"


    "Do no harm to the Avatar of Jaha!" said a man.


    "I agree," said Nendas, halting. "This fight has no meaning."


    "Enough," said a voice.


    Nendas looked up to see King Samrasa approaching them. "Ralign, Nendas, you do our hosts a disservice. Nendas, a word."


    Nendas walked with Samrasa to one side. As he did, he examined Samrasa''s movements to see if he might run him through. Samrasa was wearing a sword, after all. However, Samrasa halted and simply talked. "I presume this was about miracles?"


    "As far as I can gather, King Samrasa, yes," said Nendas.


    Samrasa paused. "Very well. I suppose I should have foreseen this.


    "Suffice it to say that Ralign and his associates are hostile to religion of all kind. They have had several bad experiences with the worst aspects of religion. I expect you to tolerate them."


    "As you wish," said Nendas, meaning that Ralign was allowed to run roughshod over the faithful. Any objection would make a stir and therefore was bad.


    "Now, regarding miracles, I know you mean well," said Samrasa. "And you have not done anything wrong, so much as... unfortunate. We are at a critical stage in the development of Tarasif. Our hope is to remove some of the problematic religions.


    "If Jaha starts performing miracles, other cults will do the same. It will reinvigorate support for the worst aspects of religion."


    "You wish me not to perform any further miracles on behalf of Jaha?" asked Nendas, allowing himself to look disappointed. He must appear the picture of youthful recklessness, desiring to please him.


    "I ask you to appeal to convince her that the timing would be most unfortunate," said Samrasa. "And I must insist."


    Nendas bowed. "...As you wish, my King. I will do as you ask."


    "Now, who are these you''ve brought with you?" asked Samrasa, taking him toward Taha and Rokas. Taha was examining things very carefully.


    "Two individuals who wish to join my entourage," said Nendas. "I have no idea why, but I don''t want to humor them. I wished to get your permission." Though technically, he did not need to ask; he had to appear subservient.


    "Do as you like, of course," said Samrasa. "But remember that you are responsible for them. Any wrongdoing on their part will reflect on you."


    Nendas nodded. "I understand."


    And he ended up left alone with Taha and Rokas. And Nendas was very glad for their company. Some of the looks the soldiers were giving him were downright murderous.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    "...Wow, so he''s about to do a purge, huh?" asked Taha.


    "You don''t know that," said Rokas.


    "What do you mean by that?" asked Nendas, letting surprise into his tone.


    "Well, it''s just... I think King Samrasa is about to kill a lot of people," said Taha.


    "Why would you think that?" asked Nendas.


    "Well, that''s why he doesn''t want you doing miracles," said Taha. "He''s about to tear down some temples or something. Whatever it is, it''ll offend religious people. So he wants religious people to look as bad as possible.


    "So, he intends to tear down any good works you perform."


    "Taha is it wise to say this-" began Rokas.


    "Let her speak, Rokas," said Nendas. "I need people that speak their minds. Not people who mindlessly obey." Taha seemed to share many of the beliefs of his enemies and would be valuable for that purpose.


    "Good, because I don''t mindlessly obey anyone," said Taha. "But I was mostly done."


    "...Can either of you fight?" asked Nendas.


    "Yes, very well," said Taha. "One of the rites of passage in my old cult involved killing by stealth. And another involved just killing." How did she not have any scars?


    "Rokas, you are from Kulat, yes?" asked Nendas.


    "I am," said Rokas.


    Nendas nodded, seeing an opportunity. "Very well. Tell me everything you know of the place, and then prepare to tell King Samrasa. The understanding of an educated and well-traveled noble could be invaluable.


    "And we must be valuable if we are to survive."


    "Sounds good to me," said Taha. "This is way more interesting than throwing knives for fun. So let''s go for it."


    That was why this commoner had chosen Nendas as a mark. She''d known he was in no position to refuse and that she could speak as an equal.


    Still, Tarasif awaited.


    On the King''s company went, drawing nearer to the other villages. As they walked, however, Ralign motioned to the village. A number of black-robed monks were walking to heal them. Their heads were unshaven, marking them as belonging to the sect of Elranor. Most religions expected men to shave their heads and beards.


    "Look there, the worshippers of Elranor," said a man.


    "Why are these religious folk out in such numbers?" asked Ralign. "There must be a reason for it.


    "Shall I-"


    "No, Ralign, you shall not," said Samrasa. "We''ll speak directly to them and see how they account for their actions."


    At that moment, a baldheaded monk approached, though he had a long beard. Samrasa moved forward and nodded to him. "High Priest Surras, what are you doing here?"


    "I saw your party approaching, King Samrasa," said Surras. "I thought it best to personally explain to you why your order was disobeyed."


    "Very well then, what happened?" asked Samrasa.


    "We detected several diseases growing within the populace," said Surras. "It began to spread through several villages at an alarming rate. If left unchecked, it would have spread to the city, and many would have died. Such a thing could have compromised Tarasif to our enemies.


    "So, the temples united in healing all we could. We are nearly in control of the situation."


    "As good an explanation as can be made. I will pardon the defiance," said Samrasa, nodding.


    Surras departed, and Samrasa looked to the men. Uneasy murmurs came from them. They did not understand why Samrasa was tolerating this.


    "See now the serpent in the grass," said Samrasa. "The God of Healing is indeed benevolent to heal us of disease. Especially given who his chief ally is."


    "His chief ally is Laevian," said Nendas to Rokas and Taha. They might not have known.


    "I know; we both studied," said Taha.


    Nendas was surprised by this. "How? I took you to be of common blood?"


    "I educated myself," said Taha.


    Nendas had always been taught that to learn; one must have a master. "How is such a thing possible?"


    "Just find teachers and get them to teach you," said Taha. "When they have nothing else to teach you, throw them away and find another. Rinse and repeat. I''ve had more mentors than I can count."


    "Don''t you have any loyalty to your masters?" asked Nendas, amazed at her flippant dismissal.


    "I wouldn''t know," said Taha. "I haven''t had a master before you. I''ve got an obligation to you, but I don''t know if I''m loyal. If I am, I''ll stay loyal; if I''m not, I''ll betray you. You can''t know anything about yourself except when looking back."


    And so they walked.


    Nendas found himself intrigued and horrified in equal parts by Taha. "How did you end up here anyway?" he asked.


    "Long story," said Taha. "But the short version is that I was raised in a place with a sky and trees. That and a lot of thugs with delusions of grandeur. Everyone had their place, and society would only be good if everyone knew their place. I was the daughter of a farmer whose family had become quite rich. Over generations of hard work, they''d amassed quite a fortune.


    "Meanwhile, well, there was a family of greater rank than mine. Except, the one in charge of it had squandered a lot of his money fighting wars. So they were actually a good deal poorer than me.


    "So, I was going to be married off.


    "So I ran off."


    Nendas stared at her incredulously. "You were going to be married to a Lord? And you decided you wanted to marry for love?"


    Taha laughed at that far louder than she ought to. "Nothing of the sort.


    "I don''t care about love or enlightenment or the power of friendship. But I learned a valuable lesson from my parents; This entire social order is nonsense. It''s just a lie agreed upon, so people who are in can rob and steal while killing people who are out.


    "That way, they don''t run out of things to steal.


    "People with the guts to do it take whatever they can and give nothing back."


    That was... considerably more selfish than Nendas had been expected. He briefly wondered if he should part company with her. But he considered that being alone with only Ralign for the company would be worse. "So you abandoned your family?"


    "Why not?" asked Taha. "I had a dozen sisters who could marry in my place. And if I had married the Lord, I''d have been a curiosity. A trophy of sorts. I''d have children and maybe come to love my husband and have grandchildren. And then I''d be forgotten.


    "I could live a ''good'' life, but I''d have no power. I wouldn''t exist."


    "I take it this is why you decided to approach an Avatar of Jaha," mused Nendas.


    "Well, you are dedicated to alternate perspectives, aren''t you?" asked Taha. "The way of Jaha is that all beliefs are but elements of a greater whole. All ideologies and desires ultimately comprise the same, greater and final peace."


    "Provided they know their place, yes," said Nendas.


    Taha laughed hysterically at that line again. Rokas somewhat joined in, but Nendas did not allow himself to. They got several looks from the other men.


    "That''s good. Very good," said Taha. "But I knew my place. I just didn''t want it. I was educated by my parents, like all my sisters. I learned everything I could. When I exhausted one source of knowledge, I looked for more. I learned all kinds of things about farming. And I began to see things that could be improved.


    "When people wouldn''t listen to what I had to say, I found ways to convince them to make them think it was their idea.


    "I knew my place, Nendas. I became my place.


    "And I decided that wasn''t who I wanted to be. So I let my younger sister marry the Lord and became something else."


    Nendas considered how to react. Perhaps to ask about who her family had been. She had to have some remaining loyalty to them. "Who was she? This sister of yours."


    "I don''t know," said Taha. "I''ve forgotten them all. Why should I treat it any better if the world doesn''t want me to be more than a face in the crowd? My Mother, Father, my siblings, and town... they''re just backstories.


    "None of them matter anymore."


    "And what do you want? Why are you doing all of this?" asked Nendas.


    Taha looked up at the vast gates of Tarasif as they rose up before her. "I want to grow in power and prestige to a level beyond comprehension. If there are no gods, then I want to become one. I know I''ll never get there, of course, but I want to get as far as I can for myself."


    "And what will you do when you''ve gotten as far as you possibly can?" asked Nendas.


    "Well, after I''ve made my ladder and gotten to the top?" asked Taha. "I guess I''ll pull the ladder up after me."


    "Would it not be better to let others climb up after you?" asked Rokas.


    "Of course not! I had to work hard to get everything I am!" said Taha. "What I am was built from nothing. Why should the simpering and ignorant masses get an easy way to success? My success is because of my own efforts. People should have to work for what they get.


    "If people follow me up the ladder, they''ll just wreck the place.


    "They are peasants, after all."


    Nendas stared at her. "Aren''t you?"


    "Being a peasant has nothing to do with rank. It''s all in the mindset," said Taha. "Don''t try to define me as a noble or a merchant or an artisan. None of them apply.


    "Taha is."


    "Taha is a very sick person," noted Nendas with a laugh, finding her too outrageous to even feel angry.


    "By all means, try to cure me, Nendas," said Taha, drawing pleasantly near momentarily. "Or send me away." And she stepped further away. "Rokas and I can find somebody else to work for. No skin off my nose."


    "I''m not certain that is possible," said Nendas. "But your insight might be valuable."


    Soon they neared the gates and walked through them. A great crowd came out to greet the King, who waved to the people as he did. Nendas walked a little ahead but listened to Taha and Nendas'' conversation.


    "Are you sure about this, Taha?" asked Rokas.


    "More than ever," said Taha. "This is going to be good. Risky, but good." As they passed into the city, Nendas looked at the buildings and people. Most buildings were in good repair, and the streets were remarkably clean. Many people were very interested in seeing Samrasa pass by. Nendas noted alms being given out to the poor. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Wow, Tarasif is very nice, isn''t it," said Taha. "Huge buildings, never seen anything bigger. However, Kulat had a few that compare.


    "Have you been here before, Nendas?"


    Why did she insist on speaking to him so casually? Because she lost nothing by him sending her away. And Nendas gained very little. He was going to have to find a way to instill some obedience in her. "No, but my Father should be here. Once I arrive, I will meet with him..." His gaze turned to a hill overlooking the city, and on it was a horrible sight. "More crucifixions.


    "Why does King Samrasa persist in these?"


    "Eh, it''s nasty and good for making a statement, I guess," said Taha. "Maybe he worships Baltoth in secret."


    "Baltoth?" asked Nendas.


    "Yeah, Baltoth is really big on order," said Taha. "His whole thing is Order above all else, and he runs his pantheon. The sort of person King Samrasa might follow.


    "So, Ralign has been giving you nothing but dark looks since we started."


    "What of it?" asked Nendas, noticing one now.


    "I think he might try to have you killed," said Taha. "He seems to hate your guts; I don''t think you''re all that convenient for the King Samrasa, and even if you are...


    "He''s reckless."


    "What are you suggesting?" asked Nendas.


    "Don''t do any more miracles; avoid Ralign like the plague and watch your back," said Taha. "Also, stay in a different building than Samrasa. Set yourself up somewhere else.


    "It''ll make it harder for you to get arrested."


    "You have experience with this?" guessed Nendas.


    "Oh yeah, I watched a lot of stuff like this go down when I was in the service of Tamar," said Taha. "The royalty in were always killing each other off. You think I learned knife-throwing for fun?"


    "I''ll keep it in mind," said Nendas.


    He really needed to meet with Father. And also spoke with Jaha.


    At least Taha was easier company on the eyes than Ralign.

 Chapter 109 - Six: Failing Faith

    Later that day, Nendas kneeled in prayer within a shrine, regretful at being kept away. He''d had to go far away from the palace to find a shrine to Jaha, which was indeed in poor shape. Vines were starting to grow upward around it, and he simply did not have the time to go there as much as he''d liked. It appeared to be a general-purpose shrine to any god.


    And once again, Nendas found himself devoid of real motivation. He knew what he was here to say, but how did you approach a God with it? He supposed he ought to just get to the point.


    "Queen Jaha..." said Nendas. "I know this may sound bad, but... could you not perform any miracles through me. I mean, I want to help other people, but... King Samrasa disapproves; if I openly defy him, we could face serious problems. I might even be killed, depending on how things are going.


    "I mean, I''m not suggesting you shouldn''t help people, but perhaps... perhaps you could try helping people indirectly. Like, in a miraculous way, Samrasa can explain it away as not a miracle.


    "I-"


    The door opened, and Taha stepped in. "Hey, Nendas."


    "Yes?" asked Nendas, irritated. "What is it? I told you not to interrupt me while I was praying?"


    "Oh, right," said Taha. "Sorry to mess with your alone time with your imaginary friend."


    "Imaginary... she''s been worshipped by my clan for centuries!" said Nendas. "We''ve followed her since the day my ancestor, Narhan Hasafa came to this land from the Rammasian Civil War. And he did so in the company of an Incarnation of the Land. Parting ways with him, he saw Jaha in a vision and aided her in bringing peace to the area around Tarasif.


    "Eventually, he resolved that his Clan should serve her all their days. And when he married a noblewoman of the land, Jaha entered into her."


    "Wait, which Incarnation of the Land was this?" asked Taha.


    "I think ah, I think it was Kantora," said Nendas. "She was the one who finalized the borders between the nations that would be kept. And she also slew many of the spawn of Typhos that had infested these lands. In doing so, she restored the natural order.


    "She was killed by Adraculus the Hydra when he poisoned her with one of his fangs. She survived the poison, but Laevian cursed her with a bad illness that finished her off."


    "Wait a minute, Laevian is the Goddess of the Wilds," said Taha. "Why assassinate your own puppet ruler?"


    "The Incarnation of the Land is meant to ensure harmony. Harmony between mortals and the spirits," said Nendas. "It was an appointment organized by Alchara, the Goddess of Harmony in ages past, though it took on a power of its own. Laevian, however, finds the very idea of harmony offensive. It was originally conceived of by the Goddess Alchara, her sister, who she hates. She is also very ruthless.


    "I imagine she regarded Kantora''s actions as an infringement on her territory. So she killed her. That is all the justification Laevian would need. Although I imagine Elranor might have to give her the go-ahead. The God Triumvirate never recognized the Incarnation of the Land. They have killed them several times in the past.*


    "Harmony is a concept they dislike."


    "Right, well, hat''s a very nice story, but it doesn''t make Jaha real," said Taha with a shrug.


    "You overstep yourself," said Nendas. "Think what you will of the Gods, but don''t bring your disrespect into their domain."


    "Right, right, sorry," said Taha, stepping out.


    Nendas moved in, satisfied he had set borders. "Now, were you successful?"


    "I got us an apartment with the finances provided," said Taha. "I also secured us a stipend from the King."


    Nendas nodded. "I see. That was fast.


    "How did you get the stipend?"


    "Oh, I just asked the right people," said Taha. "Figured out who was in charge, made a few requests that would be inconvenient for them to refuse. Just a little inconvenient; not like I''m threatening them.


    "First thing you gotta do when you go to a new place is this; You learn where the power is. Once you understand the source of power, you can channel it. You can have everything you want once you learn to channel it."


    Nendas paused and glanced back to the statue. "I''ll speak to you later, Jaha."


    And he moved to sit down and wait for Rokas. He had specifically decided not to stay in the palace. His given reason had been that he wanted to see more of the city and did not want to impose. This was true, but he also suspected Samrasa would have an easier time purging people in his own palace.


    Nendas did not want to think that he might do such a thing in violation of the guest''s right. But it was best to be prepared.


    "So, why are you talking to your imaginary friends so much anyway?" asked Taha.


    "Jaha is not imaginary," said Nendas. "I can feel her presence in my mind at all times. Her presence within me has changed how I see and interact with the world. And she has watched over the Hasafa Clan for literal centuries."


    "Just because she''s the imaginary friend of many people doesn''t make her real," said Taha.


    "She literally branded me," said Nendas, pointing to his forehead. "This symbol on my hand was put on my forehead by her."


    "By her priests, you mean," said Taha with a shrug.


    "No, I mean her," said Nendas. "There was a glowing light, and it happened."


    "Eh, you probably were hallucinating while the priests branded you," said Taha.


    "Jaha doesn''t have any priests! I am the priest!" said Nendas.


    "Fine, then, while your Uncle branded you," said Taha. "You said yourself there''s a period of time you can''t account for."


    "Taha, I have finished leaving offerings at the shrine spirit of this place," said Rokas, coming back. "They seem very... tense."


    "What do you mean ''tense''?" asked Taha. "Spirits don''t exist, Rokas. It''s just people misinterpreting natural occurrences."


    "Well then, who keeps demons at bay?" asked Nendas.


    "Demons don''t exist either," said Taha.


    "So... you don''t believe that any kind of greater being exists than mortals?" asked Nendas, realizing the scope of her nonbelief.


    "Well, obviously. It''s the only possible conclusion," said Taha.


    "But what about magic?" asked Nendas. "You saw me performing dozens upon dozens of miracles. If King Samrasa hadn''t ordered I stop, I''d be doing them right now."


    "Might not want to say that so loudly, but, yeah, that''s just magic," said Taha.


    "Just magic?" asked Nendas. So Taha believed magic existed independent of gods, spirits, and demons? "Well then, where did the magic come from?"


    "Psychic manifestations of the collective unconscious," said Taha.


    Nendas hadn''t understood a word of that. "I''m sorry?"


    "People all have a little bit of innate psychic power in them," said Taha. "A lot of people believe in a certain thing, so their thoughts naturally gather together. These thoughts naturally form together into forces. These forces, in turn, have certain people who can tap into them."


    That was the most ridiculous thing Nendas had ever heard of. So ridiculous that finding a way to disprove it would take some work. "I see.


    "So this force of yours, do you believe it can think?"


    "Well, I guess it has a general will, more the will of the worshippers made manifest," said Taha. "But it is a very chaotic and undirected sort of will. When you''re speaking to Jaha, you''re actually speaking to your interpretation of her."


    "But you just said Jaha didn''t exist," said Nendas. "You keep changing your theory. Do you believe gods exist or don''t you?"


    "I''m willing to admit that there might be psychic manifestations of mortal will," said Taha.


    "But those manifestations have traits, don''t they?" asked Nendas. "Not every psychic manifestation has the same priorities or method of operation?"


    "Yes. I guess," said Taha.


    "And they have a will of sorts, even if individual worshippers effect that will," pressed Nendas.


    "Yes, what about it?" asked Taha.


    "So they''re gods then," said Nendas.


    "No, they''re psychic manifestations of the collective unconscious," said Taha.


    "What you''re calling a ''psychic manifestation'' is just a god by another name," said Nendas. "The most you''ve done is create an alternate interpretation for how they are created. One which isn''t even a very good one. Even uninhabited places have nature spirits. Do you think the will of dead rocks elected the Incarnation of the Land?"


    "What even is a collective unconscious?" asked Rokas. "You''ve never told me."


    Taha shifted. "It''s um... the unconscious of the human race as a whole."


    "Yes, but what is it? How do you define it?" asked Nendas.


    "It''s common to mortals and represents ancestral memory and experience," said Taha. "I read the book a while ago in the library."


    "Okay, but how is this collective unconscious maintained?" asked Nendas. "I presume it requires some kind of communication between humans. Can you provide evidence of this communication? Can it forget things? How did it form? Why do cultures that have never come into contact with one another come up with the same ideas? Do all animal species possess such an unconscious? Or just us?


    "If it was just us, what makes us special?"


    "Look, it doesn''t matter how the psychic manifestations operate anyway. Or the collective unconscious, for that matter," said Taha flatly.


    "Why not?" asked Nendas.


    "Because gods aren''t real. So it''s the only possible explanation," said Taha.


    Nendas put his face in his hands. "Taha, your stalwart faith in absolute nothingness puts my devotion to Jaha to shame."


    "I try," laughed Taha.*


    Taha didn''t care, realized Nendas.


    She''d dismissed the Gods as unimportant before deciding they did not exist. So suggesting they might not be real was no blow to her ego. Philosophy and theology seemed to be an amusement for her. It was something she enjoyed discussing. But the truth had no real meaning or effect on her. It might as well have been a rainbow. Pretty, but unsubstantial and an illusion. But then, nothing had meaning in her worldview, did it?


    "In that case, Taha, what would you say the Incarnation of the Land was?" asked Rokas.


    "Hmm, what do you mean?" asked Taha.


    "Well, you keep saying that Avatars of Gods are an elaborate hallucination," said Rokas. "What do you think the Incarnation of the Land was? There was only one of them, and they could commune with any spirit, demon, or deity.


    "And they were an entity created by the will of the nature spirits at Alchara''s suggestion. The idea was to have someone to negotiate between mortals and spirits."


    "Fictional," said Taha. "Someone just made all the stories up or attributed them all to different figures."


    "Tarasif was named after the last Incarnation of the Land," noted Nendas.


    "So?" asked Taha. "That doesn''t mean he existed. None of us know what happened back when people were writing about. All we do know is some guy named Tarasif, who may or may not have existed, was important enough to name a city after."


    "We know he existed. He destroyed the largest armada the world had ever seen by himself," said Rokas. "Everyone agrees there was a great army sent by ship from the northern land of Acreus*. And everyone agrees he destroyed the armada."


    "My guess is that the historians he was paying said he did that," said Taha. "And somebody else did all the real work. Taking credit for other people''s work is an ancient profession. It has a long and glorious history.


    "A lie agreed upon by enough may as well be true.


    "Hey, what happened to him anyway?"


    "He was murdered by the King of Kulat, Saspin," said Nendas, who had studied the subject. "Saspin desired to recreate the Old Empire by force of arms and was close to doing so. Tarasif, however, believed wars of aggressive expansion were immoral. He used his powers to force the various Kings not to fight one another.


    "And he convinced Barden to raise a great mountain range between Tarasif and the sea. It saved the lands from the Babarassian''s raids for years."


    "What an idiot," laughed Taha.


    "Taha, how can you say that? He ensured a lasting peace for decades," said Rokas.


    "Yeah, at the expense of his neck," said Taha. "He was stupid enough to tell the Kings of different nations, no. With an attitude like that, he''d make nothing but enemies. Getting Barden to raise those mountains also cut off all trade to the south.


    "My guess is that this place became a heck of a lot poorer after he did that.


    "How''d they kill him anyway?"


    Nendas paused. "Well, Tarasif used his powers to get the spirits to hamper the economy of any society that went on the offensive. Initially, this benefitted Saspin, who was fighting mostly defensive wars. But, Saspin wanted to go on the offensive against his weakened neighbors. His goal was to recreate the Old Empire.


    "So he made a deal with Melchious."


    Everything went cold. Taha shuddered and looked around, and Rokas said a prayer. "Melchious?"


    Hey, come on, let''s uh... let''s not tell horror stories. Everybody knows Melchious isn''t real."


    "Real or not, they put those markings on every door to ward him off at night," said Nendas. He motioned to the symbol of a bird within a cage over the door to this shrine. "And Melchious gave Saspin the means to kill his friend.


    "The Avatar of Spirits died, and the war resumed."


    Taha paused. "So how''d he do it, though?"


    "Why would you need to ask that?" asked Nendas. "He''s an ordinary man with no real divine support who made enemies of many Kings. Or are you admitting he had some?"


    "Cute," said Taha. "Just answer the question."


    "Melchious shot him in the back with a poisoned arrow," said Rokas.


    "That''s it?" asked Taha, sounding disappointed.


    "Do you know how difficult it is to sneak up on a man for whom nature itself is a protector and friend?" asked Nendas, feeling like it was not him speaking. "Stories say the Tarasif could hear everything for miles and see in all directions at once. Nobody knows how Melchious got behind him.


    "Usually, the Incarnation of the Land gets killed by stealth. Their power was so great that few could cross them. Although come to think of it, they have a tendency to die young."


    "Well, what do you expect?" asked Taha. "There''s no consistent foreign policy. Neither is there any consistent system of succession. So if the Avatar makes a decision you don''t like, kill him and run the same decision past his reincarnation.


    "Although, I''d put him in a position to be killed and then just not help him. Keep my hands clean and all that.


    "Why did they stop appearing?"


    "No one knows," said Nendas. "Although his death led to one of our history''s blood-drenched conflicts. With all the murder and burning, he was probably killed when he was only a child¡ªseveral dozen times.


    "During the fighting, many of the Kings took the opportunity to destroy his temples. They killed his priests and blackened his name. His temples were repurposed to worship the true gods. Within a decade, there simply wasn''t anyone looking for his return. Certainly, no one would know how to recognize him or teach him to command his power.


    "For all we know, he''s still out there and doesn''t know it."


    "I have never understood why there was such a fast turnaround," noted Rokas.


    "My own belief is that the Incarnation of the Land died from a lack of self-reflection," said Nendas. He felt Jaha speaking through him. "Each incarnation was a completely different person with different beliefs, gender, and race. As a result, he has no core precincts.


    "A man who wishes to follow a god has a set of rules by which to live his life. But the Incarnation of the Land had no commandments and little in the way of a consistent ideology.


    "Only a vague idea that harmony and balance were wonderful and people should live in peace.


    "Which was wonderful. Until you have to tell a group of peasants who live close to starvation they have to let some of their fields grow wild. Or tell some fishermen whose livelihood is at stake they have to cut back.


    "When a famine strikes, who are they going to blame?


    "It also didn''t help that they had a tendency to side with nature. We have many records of their decisions, dating back as far as the days of before the God War. They always spoke of compromise until it came time for the spirits or elves to give something up. That worked when we were fighting to survive every minute and were utterly beholden to them. But over time, humans gained enough power to manage on their own.


    "Yet we were always treated as a defeated power that had supposedly been set up for our benefit. This was long after the point where they became the stronger. After the elves fell from power, the Incarnation of the Land was a source of legitimacy for Kings. His endorsement allowed them to establish themselves.


    "However, as Kings began to favor one god or another, things changed. Eventually, he overstepped himself one too many times and was destroyed.


    "If the carnage that followed had not been so horrific, he would be remembered as the villain of that story. Jaha, meanwhile, remains the Goddess of Peace. She is not foolish enough to throw her weight around. She allows people to make their own choices and simply shifts things to make them work out."


    "It might have been must less horrific if he allowed the battle to happen earlier," noted Rokas. "The bloodbaths proceeding Samrasa were a result of decades of unfulfilled grudges. It might have been avoided if men had been allowed to battle one another on a smaller scale."


    "Well, that whole thing about seeing for miles is probably embellishment. All to make the thing seem less anticlimactic," said Taha dismissively. "Still, I don''t get why Tarasif would be so hostile to religion if they named themselves after a high priest."


    "Times change," said Nendas. "And the spirits and gods do not always have the same interests at heart. Many of the Gods favored reuniting the land by force."


    And then there was a flash and a roar of confusion from the city. It could be heard even within the palace.


    "What was that?" asked Rokas.


    "A lightning bolt?" asked Taha. "Pretty odd weather to get one in broad daylight."


    "Let''s go have a look," said Nendas.


    Quickly they hurried out of the palace gates and down to hill into the streets. As they walked, they saw people running this way and that. There was an air of panic around them.


    "Did you hear?" asked a man. "An emissary of the King has been assassinated!"


    "What?" said his friend.


    "It''s true; he was stabbed to death while trying to meet with the servants of Barden," said the man. "A worshipper of Elranor stabbed him to death, right before being fried by lightning."


    "Why would Elranor fire a lightning bolt to kill one of his own?" asked the first.


    "Well, he was taking his name in vain," said the second. "That''s what many of the folk in the meeting thought. I don''t see what the worshippers of Elranor would have to gain by it, anyway."


    "Shh, not so loud," said the first. "Nobody will want us talking about them after this. Say nothing too favorable."


    Nendas grabbed the man by the shoulder. "You, who was killed?" sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I uh... the brother of the Head of the Hasafa Clan, I think," said the man.


    Father was...


    Were there any other members of the Hasafa Clan here? There had to be? "Where did this happen? Where is the body?"


    "They took it off to the palace, I think," said the man.


    "Taha, Rokas, stay here!" said Nendas.


    "Are you sure-" began Taha.


    "Stay here," said Nendas. "If I don''t come back... Nevermind." And he raced off.


    Had Samrasa had him killed? Had Uncle been a part of this? If so, Nendas might be killed next. He wouldn''t want Taha or Rokas getting caught up in all this. On some level, Nendas knew going to the palace was a bad idea. But he had to see it done.


    Arriving at the gates, he learned where the body was and went to it. But as he reached the door, he was stopped.


    "Hold on a moment; you''re the Avatar of Jaha," said the guard. "Just what business do you think you have in the palace? Especially after what you''re kind-"


    "My father may be dead. I am not the Avatar of Jaha, not now," said Nendas. "Please, I... the man who was assassinated may have been my Father."


    The guard halted. "I''ll ask if you can be allowed in to see the body, but no promises. Keep an eye on him."


    The guard entered, and Nendas waited, keeping a hand on his sword. If he was attacked here, he would go down fighting. But soon, the guard returned. "You''ve been given permission. Follow me."


    Nendas nodded. "Thank you."


    Nendas was not ready for this.


    He did not want to see what lay within these halls. But he knew it was something he had to face. So he walked forward behind the guard and came to a morgue. It was a cold, gray room where the body was lying in repose beneath a cloth. Ralign was there, and Nendas at once guessed he was seeking to confirm the death. What other reason could he have?


    "Well, if it isn''t, the Avatar of Jaha will come to grace us," said Ralign. "Amazing how much good work you religious types do, isn''t it?"


    Nendas moved past Ralign, ignoring the words. Coming to the cloth, he took hold of it. For a moment, he was silent and composed himself and drew it off. There he saw the fact of his father, wounded by a dagger to the heart.


    Nendas nodded, confirming his suspicion. He felt bile rising in his throat, but he forced himself to stay calm. His father was dead. Someone assassinated him, very likely someone in this very palace.


    "Is that all you have to say?" asked Ralign.


    When Nendas did not answer, Ralign seemed about to flare up. Instead, he left. Which meant he had some order which precluded picking a fight.


    "Is this him?" asked the guard, glancing at Ralign.


    "Yes," said Nendas. "Yes, that is my Father. I will have to... I will have to write to Uncle about this. How did he die? What happened?" He must demonstrate some weakness to maintain appearances.


    "A worshipper of Elranor killed him," said the guard. "He shouted praises to Elranor as he stabbed him from the crowd. When that happened, a lightning bolt struck him. The priests say it was a punishment from Zeya for blasphemy, but I think it was tying up loose ends.


    "You can''t get a confession out of a corpse."


    Demonstrate weakness. "What was going on there?" murmured Nendas. "He said he was sure he could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement."


    "I''m afraid our enemies aren''t interested in any arrangement," said a voice.


    Nendas looked up and saw Samrasa arriving. No doubt he''d heard of what was happened and had come to manipulate him. But why would he have Father murdered? He did not, necessarily. He might have simply been taking advantage of events.


    "King Samrasa?" asked Nendas, letting his voice sound vulnerable.


    "Yes, I just heard about it," said Samrasa. "Your father was a good man, Nendas. I never wanted it to come to this, but... this is our world."


    "What is to be done?" asked Nendas, returning his voice to resolve.


    "The Temple of Elranor must pay for this atrocity," said Samrasa. "As King, my authority is absolute and was granted initially by the gods. To assassinate one of my messengers is heresy of the worst kind."


    "Are we certain the Temple was involved?" asked Nendas. "Father always spoke highly of them."Samrasa sighed in what no doubt was meant to make him appear wise and lofty. "...I''m afraid that even if they are not involved, we have passed the point of negotiations. The people must know that to kill a King''s messenger is to court death. If there is no reprisal for this atrocity, Order will cease.


    "And how else do you explain the convenient murder of the assassin after the blow was dealt."


    Nendas shifted and looked down "...I cannot."


    Let Samrasa think that Nendas was his puppet. Let him think and wait until the time was right to strike back. Samrasa seemed to buy it and put a hand on his shoulder, and Nendas kept in check his revulsion. "You must take charge of this, Nendas. It is your duty, as a son, as an Avatar of a God, and as a warrior."


    "Should not a more experienced warrior undertake the task?" asked Nendas, voice holding some of his doubt.


    "Ralign cannot be trusted with so delicate a matter," said Samrasa. "He has many uses, but he lacks the sophistication for such a venture. You must go to the Temple of Elranor and clear the priests from it. None must remain to taint Tarasif any further.


    "Naturally, however, I would gladly provide you with troops-"


    "I don''t need them," said Nendas simply. He would not be Samrasa''s puppet; he would fulfill the order in his own way and avert the atrocity. An idea already came to him. "I will handle this duty personally or die in the attempt."


    Samrasa looked at him in surprise. "That is very bold of you. But what makes you think you can handle this alone?"


    "I will not be going alone," said Nendas. "I simply do not need the help of those trained by Ralign. They may do something reckless."


    Samrasa paused. "...You''re a very brave young man.


    "But the temple of Elranor has armed guards. You will be going to your death."


    "We shall see," said Nendas. "May I go?"


    "Of course," said Samrasa.


    Nendas went at once out the door to search for Taha and Rokas. He found Ralign waiting with a number of his men. He looked at Nendas. "Oh look, one weak female is off to avenge another!


    "Are you in need of some actual warriors?"


    It was at that moment Nendas realized the truth. Ralign was completely under Samrasa''s control. Samrasa had offered him something; Nendas wasn''t sure what. Power, or the ability to do whatever he wanted, and in return, Ralign had given up himself. No doubt Samrasa had told Ralign that Nendas would be used and disposed of. Or perhaps Ralign merely assumed at much.


    Pinning the blame for the atrocity on Jaha would be a logical way to deflect responsibility. Even so, the stain of sin was still on Samrasa for this.


    "No, I''m handling this myself," said Nendas. "I''d like to warn you, Ralign. This isn''t going to last." And the words were not his own.


    "What isn''t? Your spine?" said Ralign.


    "No, the way you''re acting," said Jaha through Nendas. "Your actions are wounding others, and you are wounding yourself by wounding them. Even now, you are cutting your own spirit with blades of sneering contempt. The Gods will not forever tolerate your actions.


    "I suggest you contemplate what you have done and what you intend to do."


    "Just who the hell do you think you are, boy?" said Ralign. "I am the Captain of the King''s guard; you''re nothing more than a curiosity!"


    "You''re not talking to the boy," said Nendas''s voice. "I suggest you think about your path in life before it is too late."


    And Nendas was himself again. And he realized that Ralign had almost certainly had a hand in murdering his father. And now, as he came to pay respects, Ralign had mocked and insulted his memory. Rage bubbled up within him. "...There will come a day, Ralign, when you will have lost all protection. On that day, you will scoff and sneer as you always have. Heedless of warnings, heedless of your own conscience.


    "On that day...


    "Remember me. Remember today.


    "This is the reason."


    And Nendas walked past.


    Thinking to himself, he calculated that Ralign was more trouble than he was worth. No doubt Samrasa was looking into replacing him even now with someone. Nendas needed only to make himself a valuable asset. Then he''d appear to be falling into Samrasa''s sway, and he would become that replacement.


    That would allow him to kill Ralign. And also to strike at Samrasa at a later date. Jaha, however, noted that his priority should not be killing Ralign or Samrasa but peace. Nendas took the point and wondered what part Uncle had in this?


    Father''s death would be...


    It would be a terrible blow to the Hasafa Clan. Had Uncle really been a part of it? If so, why? Jealousy? Why would any man strike off his right hand?


    It did not matter. If Uncle had been part of it, he would die as well. He had played the part of a kin slaying and murdered his own brother. Worst of all, the act had not served the Hasafa in any way. There would be a payment for this crime.


    But not yet.


    As it turned out, Nendas met Taha and Rokas outside the gates of the palace. Why had they followed him here? Curiosity?


    It did not matter.


    "Nendas, you''re back," said Rokas. "What happened? Are you alright?"


    "My Father is dead," said Nendas. "We''re going to the Temple of Elranor. I''ll explain on the way."


    Nendas would not weep. And he would mourn...


    He would mourn later.


    *This is true.


    Anoa the Bright killed one of them, Sokas, quite brutally during the Founding of Harlenor. There was, apparently, a very personal vendetta between them. But I lack records on the subject here.


    I believe, however, that it was during his later years of rule.


    *I genuinely wonder if Taha believed in anyone or anything other than herself.


    *Acreus, I am told, was a powerful hegemony of the Amazons that long ago attempted to invade Tarasif by sea. It was built to the north and west of Acoria, Mother''s homeland.


    Mother was there when the fleet launched, however. She assures me it was nowhere near the size of the Estalian fleet. Indeed, it was more of a large raid. The numbers, I suppose, were exaggerated by later accounts.


    Taha''s delusions thus had a grain of truth, as often seems to be the case.

 Chapter 110 - Seven: Negotiations

    The temple of Elranor stood above them, a surprisingly drab affair. Every statue was of simple tan stone, though they were well-carved. Some of these statues had survived centuries of conquests and reconquests. There was no gold or jewels on the walls, and the guards were clad in plain weaponry. Nendas looked over it and wondered how he was going to do this.


    Jaha was not providing much help here, which made sense.


    He could find a way to reduce Samrasa''s harm to the worshippers of Elranor. If Nendas did nothing, Samrasa would murder them either way. Perhaps if they got them to leave? But it would have to be fast.


    He mulled it over as they drew nearer.


    The best thing to do would be to have Elranor''s chosen to withdraw from the city and go underground. Move into the countryside. Samrasa would want them dead either way, but they were a moving target in the countryside. He had only been told to clear the temple, not kill those within.


    "So, the Temple of Elranor," said Taha, looking up at it. "This place is nice. Think of all the daggers you could buy with the gold inside!"


    "It looks fairly drab to me," said Rokas.


    "Right," said Taha. "So there is probably someplace where the treasure is collected. Oh, can we loot the place after we finish beating up everyone in it? Or have our way with some priestesses-"


    "We are not going to kill anyone if we can avoid it," said Nendas. "Let alone defiling priestesses. Besides, the priests of Elranor don''t accept female members."


    "I approve of that much," said Rokas. "Though Elranor''s worshippers do have priestesses in Kulat."


    "Well, what is our plan then?" asked Taha.


    "We are going to talk to them," said Nendas.


    "Ah, so I''m guessing you didn''t call up that angry mob then," said Taha.


    Nendas looked up and saw a horde of people rushing toward the temple. They were holding knives and clubs and approaching.


    "Murderers!" cried one man.


    "Betrayers of the King!" said another.


    "Get them! Get them all!" said a third.


    Nendas had to stop this. Stepping up onto the temple steps, he drew his sword and cried aloud. "In the name of the King, step back! Step back! I''ll kill the first man who enters this place without leave!"


    He must have looked more impressive than he felt because the crowd stopped.


    "The Avatar of Jaha..." said a man.


    "Why are you protecting them!" said a woman.


    "I am here on behalf of King Samrasa to negotiate with the Temple and ensure justice is done," said Nendas simply. "Until such a time as I give leave, those within this temple remain under the King''s protection.


    "Step back, or you shall cross the King and the divine! Now disperse!"


    It got through to them. They didn''t all disperse, but many ended up hanging out around. Nendas provided to turn and walked up the steps with Taha and Rokas on either side. Reaching the top, he saw High Priest Surras standing before him.


    "High Priest Surras, I presume?" said Nendas.


    "I am he," said Surras.


    "Then perhaps we should speak and quickly," said Nendas. "My guards will accompany me."Surras nodded and brought them inside. Within was a great, spacious hall with many statues of heroes around them.


    "What is it the Queen of Peace wants here, and why is she doing the dirty work of Samrasa?" asked Surras.


    "I am not doing her bidding at the moment," said Nendas. "I am here serving King Samrasa as one of his warriors. And I have been ordered to clear this temple of all within. You and your entourage have been accused of the murder of my father, the emissary of the King."


    "We have done nothing of the sort," said Surras. "Others sent those assassins, and you know it."


    "Who sent the assassin is irrelevant to you and me," said Nendas. "What matters is that King Samrasa has ordered the priests of Elranor to leave the city."


    "Do you think the Gods will stand for such an atrocity?" asked Surras.


    "What I think does not matter," said Nendas. "I have orders to clear this temple. And it will be done even if I do not perform this action; another will. Either you and your company leave the city of Tarasif, or when I come back here, not one of you will remain alive."


    "...You would threaten to kill us on holy ground?" asked Surras.


    "Nendas, can I talk?" asked Taha.


    "What is it, Taha?" asked Nendas.


    "This situation is pretty bad for both of us, High Priest," said Taha. "You see, Nendas must obey the King, or the worship of Jaha would suffer. And those people out there will be enraged if Samrasa lets this pass.


    "He has to be seen to do something.


    "At the same time, what happens if you dig in your heels here? Lile Nendas says, even if you kill us, others will come by and finish the job. At the very best, you''ll inspire enough rage to start a civil war over your deaths. Then Kulat will use the chance to invade."


    "What are you suggesting?" asked Surras.


    "If you fight Samrasa on this, it''ll only weaken Tarasif and won''t benefit you at all," said Taha. "And if violence breaks out, the people of Elranor will suffer horrible persecution. Samrasa has already targeted other religions; you''ll be put among them."


    "What then?" asked Surras. "That I yield the holiest places of Elranor to him?"


    "Why not? It''s just a building," said Taha. "Declare that the murder committed has defiled the house of Elranor. That he has commanded, you leave it through Samrasa. That way, you''ll be able to take the valuables here and get out without much violence.


    "You''ll deny Samrasa''s soldiers the chance to loot the place. Not all of them are as nice as us, you know. So, you get to keep your money and set up a temple in the countryside or something. Nobody gets killed, and Samrasa is appeased, and he may even have a rift driven between him and his men.


    "If you put up a fight here, though, it''ll only make you look even worse."


    "It is as Taha says," said Nendas, impressed by what she said. "You cannot possibly win in this situation. Either you will leave of your own will or die and bring curses down on all who follow you."


    Surras considered it. "...Give me some time to consider my response."


    "As you wish," said Nendas before drawing out his sword. Setting it onto the ground, he walked in a circle and scraped the blade behind him. Coming to a halt in front of Surras again, the circle was complete.


    "You have until you step out of that circle to give me a response," said Nendas.


    Surras took the point.


    But he did not panic. Instead, he sat down cross-legged in the circle, closed his eyes, and began meditating. Nendas waited, trying to keep his feeling of nervousness in control. Surras continued his meditations, and Nendas wondered if he was speaking with Elranor. Then he wondered why he should doubt the fact.


    "I have spoken with Elranor," said Surras. "He has ordered me to accept your offer."


    "...What manner of God gives personal audiences on a moment''s notice," said Nendas.


    "No task is unimportant to Elranor," said Surras. "Whether a farmer''s toil or the machinations of kings, all have equal importance."


    Nendas tried to regain control. "Good.


    "Now go out there and express the horror of the worshippers of Elranor at what was done. And tell the crowd what you will be doing. I will escort you to the gates as soon as you have packed everything you can.


    "I recommend not traveling too heavily. Those who walk heavily burdened can be prey to bandits.


    "You will also donate a suitable sum of money to the King in apology for the atrocity. I don''t presume to tell you how much. But I warn you that too small an amount would be worse than nothing at all."


    Surras shrugged and turned to walk away. Nendas looked to see several monks standing by, looking at him. "Go.


    "All of you, begin gathering what supplies you can for a journey. Take your weapons if you wish, but I want you all out of this city before sundown.


    "Rokas, go with them. Ensure that no trickery is made here."


    Rokas nodded and went off. Taha looked at Nendas in surprise. "You think Rokas will be able to take them if they decide to kill us?"


    "No," said Nendas. "But I don''t fancy my chances of killing everyone here. Rokas is merely there as a reminder of authority. Mine and the Kings."


    "So, what does Jaha say about all of this?" asked Taha.


    "Nothing!" said Nendas hotly. "Jaha has nothing to do with this."


    And then Taha leaned in and kissed him. The sensation was brief and sudden, and Nendas stared at her. Just what was going on here? He stared at her.


    "What about now?" asked Taha.


    Nendas tried to process what had happened and her motives. "Now...


    "Now is not the time for this."


    Taha seemed to like his reaction, however.


    Nendas observed as the priests of Elranor began their departure. Outside, he saw the crowds disperse. Nendas moved out to observe them, and eventually, Rokas came to meet him. "Nendas, we''ve gotten what supplies they need. They have taken such treasures as they believe will be necessary for the road."


    Nendas nodded and wondered what Jaha thought of all this. What other option did Nendas have? Wasn''t he saving the men of Elranor by doing this? Either way, Surras eventually returned with his people, packed and ready. It appeared they had prepared to leave on short notice for some time.


    "Do you have everything you need now?" asked Nendas.


    "Yes," said Surras. "I fought for Tarasif as a soldier for twenty years. The same can be said for many of this priesthood. And now we are cast out by a beardless boy."


    "It is not by my authority that you are cast out," said Nendas simply. "Move. Before King Samrasa sends someone else."


    "As you wish," said Surras. "King Samrasa may have the temple and everything in it. Those funds within are for the benefit of his house alone."


    However, they had yet to get to the base of the steps when Ralign arrived. He came leading a large force of men. Nendas halted as Surras tensed, and Nendas noted he was armed. This could get violent.


    "You, stop in the name of the King!" said Ralign.


    Nendas stepped between them, hand near his sword. "Ralign, I am acting in the name of the King."


    "You were commanded to clear the temple!" said Ralign.


    "Yes, and it is clear. The priests are leaving as we speak," said Nendas. "I was just walking them to the gates."


    "You were supposed to slaughter them!" said Ralign.


    "If King Samrasa wished them dead, I''m sure he would have told me as much," said Nendas. "He asked only that the temple be cleared, and it has been. The High Priest of Elranor has also cast out the assassin from the faith.


    "The temple lies empty. And King Samrasa will be receiving an extensive payment in compensation. What more do you want?"


    "What more do I..." Ralign shifted, looking around. "They killed your father! Don''t you have any shame!"


    "A worshipper of Elranor killed my Father," said Nendas. "It may have been a lone fanatic or part of a splinter sect. And since when do you care about what happened to my Father, Ralign? You were less than polite before."


    "The King has been disrespected, and you think that giving the wealth of the Temple will change that?" asked Ralign. "Especially after what these worthless religious folk has done before now. "Now you''re just letting them go and using the King''s name to justify it!"


    "He wanted to loot the temple," laughed Taha with a smile, spinning a knife.


    "What did you say?" asked Ralign.


    "Oh, come on, it''s obvious," said Taha. "A distinguished soldier like you would have been called to deal with the defenders. If you''d done that, you could have raped the priestesses. Torn the gold off the walls and had a great time smashing stuff. And you could have justified it all to yourself because ''they were evil'' or whatever.


    "But now Nendas has gotten the priests to leave the city peacefully. Crisis averted, and Samrasa gets all the stuff. Now, maybe you''ll get some of it. But not as much as you would have otherwise.


    "You''re not upset because the worshippers of Elranor are getting away. You''re upset you lost the chance to break and steal stuff with a clear conscience."


    Ralign looked to Taha, then Sarras, and then went very still. "...Men form up. We will escort the worshippers of Elranor away from the city to ensure they cause no further harm.


    "Nendas, you''ve done your job.


    "Now, I will do mine."


    So, Ralign intended to murder them all. Nendas looked to the crowd and wondered if they would change their views in any way. He looked to Surras, and then Rokas spoke. "You cannot-"


    "Don''t tell me what I can and cannot do, Kulatian," said Ralign.


    "...Don''t do this, Ralign," said Nendas, trying to save them. "This won''t help the King. A public spectacle will-"


    "I''ll do what I have to to save this nation from people like you," said Ralign. Then he turned to Surras. "We''ll escort you to the next town."


    Surras shrugged. "Lies become no one, Captain."


    And the monks moved with Ralign toward the gates. Taha, however, seemed unconcerned. "I''m betting Ralign wins with mild difficulty. Ten coppers?"


    "What?" asked Nendas. He saw Ralign and the priests being led away and followed after them. He would see this.


    "Well, it''s not like we can do anything about it," said Taha. "No way can we take a side in this. Even if the Priests of Elranor win, they''ll be shot by the archers. And Ralign isn''t going to be grateful. May as well have some fun, take some bets."


    "...You are a very bad person, Taha," said Rokas.


    "Good and bad are just words," said Taha with a shrug. "I do what I want to do without fear of imaginary figures."


    They walked in silence after the priests. As they passed the gates, however, Ralign drew a sword. The monks drew their weapons in turn, and soon both sides were killing one another. Soldiers rushed down toward Nendas.


    "Captain Ralign is fighting the worshippers of Elranor! What''s happening!" said a man.


    Nendas thought quickly and came to a possible escape. A means to move beyond this. "The worshippers of Elranor have been driven mad."


    "What?" said the man.


    "Their God is driving them to act against the King''s men," said Nendas quickly. "We must save them from themselves and go to Ralign''s aid."


    "Quickly, we must aid them!" said a man. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Nendas led the charge himself.


    By the time they joined the battle, the priests were already losing. Even so, they''d killed several of the guards. Surras had cut down a swordsman and was fighting Ralign. Nendas himself killed no one, hanging back as he let the clash begin. Soon enough, the Elranor worshippers were swept away. Ralign looked at him in what might have been a bit of respect. Respect for what? Nendas had only done it to cover for himself.


    Did Ralign think Nendas had acted out of genuine devotion? He was dangerously naive as well as evil. "...How nice of you to show up.


    "Bury the gold. Take their heads."


    "No," said Nendas. "These men were deceived, not evil. They believed in the false promises of their God and were led to their ultimate destruction. Their bodies must be buried with respect.


    "As for the money, it must be given to King Samrasa so that he might decide how it should be used.


    "Wouldn''t you agree, Captain?"


    Ralign shrugged and drew his sword out of the corpse of Surras. Nendas reminded himself that there was nothing he could do to save them. "Do whatever you want with it.


    "But it was I who gave the money, not you."


    "You may take full credit for today''s events, Captain," said Nendas. He wanted no attention drawn to his role in this. The point was that he''d kept himself from being included with the rebels.


    Turning, he walked away from the corpses. Rokas approached him then. "Why did you do that, Nendas?"


    "We must remain useful," said Nendas. "King Samrasa should be able to use these events to break up the religion of Elranor. A rumor can be a powerful thing. So long as Ralign is the one who takes all the credit for the murders, it should contribute to his disgrace.


    "I hope King Samrasa will find favor in my actions."


    "...What, no, we meant, why would you make it so we couldn''t loot the bodies," said Taha. "We meant that, right?"


    "No, that wasn''t what I meant," said Rokas. "Why seek his favor at all?"


    Nendas shrugged. "How do you think I intend to stay alive?"


    Taha sighed. "Good point."


    Things would only become bleaker from here.


    His father was dead.


    And Nendas had no time to mourn. But he was alive and had the means to advance himself to a position of power. Once there...


    His first strike would be done with Samrasa''s blessing. And it would come as a serpent. All he had to do was wait.

 Chapter 111 - Eight: The Lens

    The trip back to the palace was largely silent, and the wind was like the spirits of the dead in the air, howling. Nendas kept a careful distance from Ralign''s group, deliberately lagging. He also noticed that Ralign had not thought to escort him there himself. Why?


    Had Ralign assumed Nendas was on his side because he''d helped kill some people Ralign hated? That seemed a strange way of looking at things. Or perhaps Ralign was careless and wanted to boast of his achievements. The man never seemed to think more than one step ahead.


    If he did, he might survive all this.


    "...So, what happens now?" asked Rokas.


    "Now, depending on how things work out, one or all of us may end up crucified," said Nendas. He had no intention of lying to his subordinates when they had the chance to duck and run. This was their chance.


    "Oh, well, that''s pretty bad," said Taha, brown eyes going big with concern.


    "You don''t seem very worried," said Rokas, raising an eyebrow.


    "Eh, life happens, and then you die," said Taha, eyes returning to normal as she tossed a knife into the air. "There isn''t an afterlife, so why worry?"


    "I wish I had your confidence," mused Nendas, who knew otherwise.


    Ralign and Taha were similar, after a fashion. Both seemed to act impulsively and without thinking things through. The difference was one of attachment. Taha''s utter nihilism and disregard for anything of value kept her from being like Ralign. Ralign was genuinely committed to Samrasa and his cause.


    Taha, however, seemed to be wholly indifferent.


    Nendas wondered if she might gain such a level of devotion to him someday if they survived all this. He sincerely doubted it, even if he liked the idea. But, they came to the palace and kept their hands near their weapons. Through the halls, they were led, and finally, into the throne room.


    Before them now sat Samrasa. To Nendas'' surprise, however, he waved off the guards. A sign of trust, but one Nendas wondered at. Was he so overconfident? But then, Samrasa was wearing armor and a sword. Likely he could call on his men soon enough.


    "Well done, Nendas. All of you, well done," said Samrasa. "I must confess, I had my doubts when I heard the Priests of Elranor were leaving peacefully. I was concerned. However, Ralign has seen to that. And you''ve ensured the massacre has only increased our prestige.


    "Even now, rumors are spreading that Elranor is a corrupting Dark Lord. One who hides behind a facade of kindness to consume his subjects. And who is to say it isn''t true if everyone believes it?"


    Nendas shrugged. "I have nothing to be proud of. I simply improvised a solution that I thought would save face."


    "Well, you did a very good job of it," said Samrasa, smiling. "Better still, with the money from the Temple of Elranor, we will be able to equip an entire army. I''ve even now begun making plans for a shipment of weapons and equipment.


    "The money should do a great deal to help with the coming war against Kulat."


    "War?" asked Taha, looking for all the world shocked. She enjoyed playing parts, didn''t she.


    "Yes, their assassination attempt on my person cannot be tolerated," said Samrasa. "I''m told you, young Rokas, are from that land?"


    "I was," said Rokas. "However, I was deemed to have too close a friendship with companions my parents did not approve of. For it, I was disinherited and cast onto the street." Nendas had already heard this.


    Samrasa nodded, and something seemed to pass between them. Was Samrasa feeling genuine sympathy for Rokas? Would it actually affect his actions? Probably not. "Ah, I see. Such problems are common to lands where religious rules are.


    "But you do know the lands of Kulat?"


    "Yes, around my area and some others," said Rokas, adjusting a gauntlet. "I spent my early days traveling all over the region. And after I was cast out, I traveled a great deal with Taha."


    "Do you think you could act as a guide to my forces?" asked Samrasa, leaning forward.


    "I know the names and faces of many members of the nobility and royal court," said Rokas, now looking unsteady. So Samrasa was pressing him to turn on his people, and it was not an offer Rokas could refuse. "Much of my time was spent among them in my early days. I might be able to name those who would be more interested in a peaceful solution."


    Samrasa shook his head and walked away to the center of the throne room. There, Nendas saw the image of a map showing the continent of Asia at the center. All the lands that once belonged to the Empire of Old were there. "No, that won''t be necessary.


    "You see, I have a dream¡ªa dream of a reunited Tarasifian Empire. Long ago, this chaotic realm was once a place of order. This was before Safara, before even the days of Elranor. In that time, Tarasif was not ruled over by a single deity. Rather, it was ruled by a council of wise men who knew to keep their petty squabbles out of running the Empire.


    "It is my goal to see that time return."


    "And how do you plan to do so?" asked Nendas.


    "I have already made great strides," said Samrasa. He stepped upon the stretch of path where Tarasif had stood. "Many petty states have joined Tarasif again, knowing they cannot resist us. Now, however, the time has come to strike at Kulat. It was long the rival of Tarasif, and there was a time when once both were both centers of trade.


    "Now, the two shall become one." Then he looked to Rokas with sympathy. "What happened to you was an injustice. If you serve Tarasif well, I would gladly restore you to your old titles."


    "I would... greatly appreciate that," said Rokas. "However, for the present, I would prefer to remain in the service of Nendas."


    So he hadn''t sold him out the first chance he got. That was comforting; Taha would be less keen to leave without Rokas.


    "Well, you might well do both," said Samrasa with a smile. "Now, perhaps we should discuss the matter of Ralign. Nendas, would you say that Ralign has begun to overstep his boundaries."


    Nendas considered his answer and what he would like to say. And then what he ought to say. Finally, he thought it more intelligent to answer the question by saying nothing at all. "I would not presume to say what his boundaries were."


    Samrasa laughed. "Very nicely spoken. You are more cunning than I took you for among the Haifa.


    "But you know well what I mean. He has become increasingly violent and outrageous in his behavior. What happened recently is only one such incident, and he has become a danger to himself and others.


    "I took him off the street, trained him, gave him everything." He sighed in what seemed like genuine regret. Perhaps it was; Ralign had served Samrasa for a very long time, long enough to be familiar. "Now, I fear, I must destroy him."


    "What do you mean?" asked Nendas.


    "Ralign has absolute faith in me. Perhaps too much," said Samrasa. "His vendetta against the religious has come to a point where he could become a danger to Tarasif. And he and many of his radicals will have to be removed."


    "Is this-" began Rokas, going silent when Nendas shot him a glance. Rokas had to learn to control his emotions; they would be his undoing.


    "Then what must be done," said Nendas. Samrasa was baiting him, offering Nendas the chance at revenge on Ralign. An action that would leave Nendas in direct thrall to Samrasa.


    "My armies will march to war soon," said Samrasa. "When the time comes, I want you to be near him. In war, Ralign often fights personally. I shall arrange for him to be in the worst part of the battle.


    "With luck, he shall die an honorable death, and we need not discuss this any further."


    This was not an offer Nendas could refuse. He did not have the power or ability at this stage to do so. Nendas now walked a path not of his own determining, and he could not go back. If he were to try and break away, Samrasa would know Nendas was not in his thrall. And Samrasa''s belief he had Nendas in his thrall was his only protection.


    If Samrasa believed he controlled Nendas, he could play him off Munsuf. But if Nendas showed signs of disobedience, his last opportunity would be gone. No, the only way forward was to endure this slaves'' march, to let his master think him a fool, and take him unawares later. Killing Ralign would benefit Nendas'' goal. But it would not engender the loyalty Samrasa sought to instill.


    Rokas looked in horror, probably not understanding any of this. "But-"


    "Don''t question the King, Rokas. I''m sure we''re meant to make our own interpretations," said Nendas quickly. How had he been taught nobility? "King Samrasa, may I inquire as to the status of my clan? I have received no word on them?"


    "The Hasafa, of course, remain my loyal subjects," said Samrasa. "So long as they continue to aid Tarasif and it prospers, so will they. As for the... regrettable situation with your brand, there is nothing that can be done at the moment.


    "Continue to distinguish yourself, however, and that may change."


    Nendas nodded. "I would appreciate that."


    "Now, if there is nothing else, I have a meeting to arrange," said Samrasa.


    "There is one thing, if I may," said Taha. "What will happen to the worshippers of Elranor now?"


    "Now?" asked Samrasa. "We shall use the people to pressure them into becoming one of us. I''ve dismantled problematic religions before. This one is only the most recent.


    "We shall not directly persecute them, nor even directly demean them. Rather, we shall make it so nothing good is ever said about them. We''ll network with some of the rival religions and give the temple to one of them. And we shall pressure those who would speak on their behalf to remain silent for the good of the realm.


    "Over time, such actions will erode their will and allow them to be converted. And those who are not converted will at least not be willing to confront us out of shame for Surras'' actions."


    "You mean being murdered?" asked Taha with a wry smile.


    Nendas stared at her and wondered if they''d be crucified. But to his surprise, Samrasa laughed. "Well, murder is simply a matter of perspective and law. And I am the law incarnate as King."


    "We understand, of course," said Nendas. He decided he''d have to do something to distance himself. "...I should tell you that Queen Jaha has been growing distant from the world of late. She begins to wonder if she is even needed."


    And it was true; he felt it. Though not in the way Samrasa took it to mean. Jaha saw all of this, and Nendas also knew she sought retribution. For she was a Goddess of Justice as well as Peace. He wondered if Samrasa even remembered that these days.


    The man did not seem to have any respect for the gods.


    "The fact is noted," said Samrasa.


    At that moment, a servant entered through a side door and approached the King. "Forgive me, King Samrasa. But the page you requested has arrived."


    Samrasa nodded. "Ah, yes, thank you, Danas. If you''ll excuse me."


    He knew the servant''s name? Glancing a little away, Nendas saw a young boy, perhaps ten, in a tunic. Quickly, he bowed, and the three of them left. Coming through the door, they got to safety, and Nendas had a bad feeling about things.


    It was not that Samrasa did not have a heart.


    It was that he never listened to anything it had to say. He could feel sympathy, but he knew no mercy. He could be kind, but only when convenient. He regretted the terrible things that he wanted to be done. But it never stopped him from doing them again.


    The page clicked in Nendas'' mind, bothering him. He was missing something, and he remembered Rokas'' story. And how Samrasa had seemed to feel some sort of kinship.


    "...Shouldn''t the page have some writing equipment?"


    "Ignorance is bliss, huh, Nendas?" asked Taha with a laugh. Then she put a hand on his shoulder.


    King Samrasa was a homosexual. And so was Rokas.


    The pieces fell into place.


    "You don''t mean..." Nendas halted. That was why Rokas had been cast out. By all accounts, he had been a loyal companion. He was a touch naive but dutiful, and he was clearly skilled. With such a nature, why would any Lord throw their own flesh and blood onto the street?


    Because something had been wrong with the flesh, the festering arm was cut off if it could not be healed. Anger well within Nendas, but he knew not to make any scene over this. "You overstep yourself, Taha. He is the King."


    "I didn''t say anything," said Taha with a smirk,


    "Good," said Nendas. "It''s absurd anyway, not worth dwelling on. There are a dozen people being crucified outside for that very sin."


    "Of course it is," said Taha.


    Nendas ignored her and looked to Rokas. "Rokas, I trust all three of us to understand that we cannot afford any deviancy. Any action we take could very easily see us put on the cross.


    "Your actions reflect on me and Taha.


    "We must be paragons of virtue insofar as we are capable."


    "I understand," said Rokas. "I will not fail you."


    "Good," said Nendas.


    Then they didn''t need to discuss this any further.


    Honestly, Nendas didn''t even care at this point. They all might die before it became a problem. And they were going to war soon anyway.


    "Taha," said Nendas. "Lead us to the apartments."


    Taha nodded. "Follow me."


    And on they walked.


    As they did, Rokas kept looking at Nendas. Eventually, they got to the apartment, an inexpensive place that Taha had checked out. It was a large, two-story building with a variety of rooms, all facing the open air. They were designed for the merchants who came in from Dinis over the river or from Kulat and even as far as Themious. Each room was clean but of bare wood, and everything but the bare minimum had to be bought.


    Even so, it was a very reasonable price, especially when Nendas refused to buy anything to spruce the place up. What? So he was supposed to pay money to make his house a pleasant place to live?


    Then, Rokas spoke up. "Why did you say that, Nendas? About giving up your status as the Avatar of Jaha?"


    "What else was I supposed to say?" asked Nendas, noting a city guard patrolling down a street. You could see several street cleaners at work as well.


    "But you''re Jaha''s Avatar," said Rokas. "Surely you cannot simply discard such a bond with a deity by the authority of a king."


    "It''s liable to get us all killed," said Nendas. "And anyway, I have to hear her in my mind constantly. It never stops, and the more I do what I have to, the worse it gets." He was making excuses now for denying her. But the act itself was valuable. It created a public perception that his devotion was wavering.


    "Surely you should take that as a sign, then, Nendas," said Rokas.


    "A sign for what?" asked Nendas, choosing to play the part. "To do what?"


    There was silence.


    "Nendas is right, Rokas," said Taha.


    "But..." Rokas paused.


    "Listen, if we stick with Samrasa, we might get back everything you two lost," said Taha. "You could become very important people. On the other hand, if we start making trouble, we''re as good as dead.


    "Now, no matter what we do, we need to get into King Samrasa''s good graces. And you two are the key to doing that."


    "We could still leave," noted Rokas.


    "And go where?" asked Nendas. "To become vagabonds on the road? And leave my father unavenged? Shall I abandon my nation and the duties of my clan? And also abandon Jaha as well."


    "You are trying to leave her service," said Rokas. "You might pretend otherwise, but you are."


    "I should have never been given her service," said Nendas. "It was a mistake my uncle manipulated me into to get me out of the way." Except Nendas had suspected as much from the beginning, hadn''t he? "I... I should never have taken this brand.


    "But now I have it, and I have to get rid of it and have someone else take it."


    It seemed such a long way from here.


    "Focus people," said Taha. "Jaha''s not real. So she''s not the problem.


    "The problem is you not having property rights and your father''s being dead. Now, the first question is, how can you get back your rights? Second question, how can you find out who killed your father?"


    "I..." Nendas tried to reassess his plans here. "Serving Samrasa could allow me to restore my rights. As for the assassin? It was probably Samrasa or my Uncle."


    "How can you say that?" asked Rokas.


    "...That''s pretty cynical," said Taha, seeming interested.


    "The religions did not benefit from the action at all," said Nendas. "And Zeya is a Goddess of Heroes. She wouldn''t strike down someone with lightning as a reward, let alone on behalf of Elranor. However, she commonly strikes down people with lightning who insult the gods."


    "That don''t exist," said Taha.


    "Are you still-" Nendas calmed himself. "My point is, a layman who knows almost nothing about the Goddess Zeya might believe such a lie. Or he might believe that Elranor is the one who sent the lightning bolt. But it seems obvious to me that it was struck in response to attempting to frame a god for murder.


    "So the only question is; Who benefits?"


    Silence.


    "So, Samrasa?" asked Taha.


    "Yes," said Nendas. "Or perhaps Ralign or one of his other subordinates. However, I find it unlikely Ralign would be capable of this kind of manipulation. Perhaps he might have hired the murderer, but he wouldn''t be able to cover it up so effectively.


    "Uncle isn''t here; however, he is a close confidant of King Samrasa. And he stands to gain from Father''s death. Father might have had enough pull to restore my status.


    "My guess is that King Samrasa got Father to undertake negotiations as a pretense. One meant to get him into Tarasif. He did this on behalf of Uncle and used Ralign as his instrument. Once done, he attempted to discredit me by having me avenge myself on the Temple of Elranor. When I proved useful and adept enough to avoid the trap, he started grooming me to replace Ralign.


    "Now, he is offering the false hope of a restored status while demonizing Uncle. I would guess he wants Uncle dead and replaced. Likely he desires to shift him out for a competent alternative. Uncle is only useful for destroying his own clan and worthless for anything else.


    "If Samrasa wants to salvage the Hasafa Clan, he''ll need to put someone loyal in Uncle''s place. Playing me against my Uncle is thus the logical tactic. Though I suspect he is keeping his options open at the moment." Assuming Samrasa was going to salvage the Husafa Clan and not just let Munsuf run it into the ground.


    "So what are we going to do about this?" asked Taha.


    "Nothing, for now," said Nendas.


    "Nothing?" asked Rokas. "He murdered your Father!"


    "I''m the Avatar of Jaha, Rokas," said Nendas. "Even if I don''t want to be, I still must fulfill my obligations. I can''t go on a vengeance-driven rampage because my soul is not my own. Even if I could, what am I supposed to do? Kill King Samrasa, cut down Ralign, flee the city, then kill my Uncle?"


    "Yes," said Rokas.


    Taha blinked. "That''s pretty ruthless of you."


    "He killed your Father, Nendas," said Rokas.


    "So?" asked Taha. "Are you saying you wouldn''t kill your father if given half a chance, Rokas? He threw you out on the street and replaced you with your younger brother."


    "No, I wouldn''t. I am his flesh and blood," said Rokas.


    "So what?" asked Taha. "Explain to me why it''s less wicked to murder a stranger who''s never done you any wrong. As opposed to the parents who disinherited you for nothing? Especially since that wasn''t even your fault. Killing a person is killing a person.


    "It doesn''t matter whether they''re a man, woman, or child. In the end, we all descend from dust, and we''ll return to it soon enough."


    "Are you saying that you''d kill your parents if they hurt you?" asked Nendas, feeling a sense of horror.


    "No," said Taha. "But they didn''t get the chance. I ditched them years ago. My parents were commoners, not worth remembering. They spent their lives in desperation, chasing the favor of a Lord who could kill them on a whim. All in the hope they might make a political marriage they would never reap the benefits of.


    "I was going to be married off to some guy I''d never even met to benefit some hypothetical future generation. That was my purpose for existence. The one that the ''gods'' had chosen me for.


    "The universe had ordained me for a life of humiliation, suffering, and subjugation. So I told it to go to hell and burned the house behind me."


    "You said that you could have lived a ''good'' life if you''d gone along with it," said Nendas, noting a contradiction. "You also said you had many sisters who could have taken your place. How did the universe ordain you to anything you describe?"


    "Eh, maybe," said Taha. "Sometimes, I remember my life as a soul-crushing paradise. Other times as hell I was forced to escape from? Which do you prefer? I''ll pick that as a backstory."


    "The truth would be nice," said Nendas.


    "There''s no true reality, Nendas. We might as well be words on a page," said Taha. "Even if two people read the same page, they''ll derive two different meanings. And then they''ll forget about us just as quickly.


    "You may remember your father being assassinated, but maybe you remember it wrong. Maybe he never existed, and I made you with false memory from the clay of the earth. Or perhaps the father you remember is all in your head, and he and Samrasa are the same.


    "Perhaps you''ll wake up tomorrow, and none of this will have happened at all.


    "Memory is useless as a guide to history. It changes as much as the present and future.


    "Either way, how I remember it turned out like this; I ditched town to join up with a convey of monks. I don''t even remember who they were, but they were heading to Tarasif. I learned everything they had to teach me, and then I found a more interesting crowd.


    "And you should be very glad I didn''t, Rokas.


    "If I hadn''t thrown away my plow and abandoned my family, you''d have starved on the street. It wasn''t like any temples were willing to accept you in all their benevolent charity. Your brother had turned you into a pariah and spread the news of that incident far and wide. If my family had treated me like yours, I''d have burned the house down on my way out. After I slit their throats."


    "You''d kill your own family?" asked Rokas.


    "If someone hurts you, you must hurt them back," said Taha. "That''s why we''re going to war with Kulat. They tried to assassinate Samrasa, and he couldn''t sit idly by and let it happen. Allowing yourself to be injured without reprisal sets a precedent. One that people can walk all over you.


    "Would people have invented swords if they didn''t need to be used now and then?


    "And anyway, who are you to talk about revenge on family members being wrong? You just said we ought to seek revenge on Nendas'' uncle?"


    "...An uncle is less closely related to you than a father," said Rokas.


    "That''s incredibly weak, you know that, right," said Taha. "I guess you could argue his uncle is a terrible person. But if you can justify killing an uncle, what about a sister? Or a father or mother? Or a god or goddess. Or a friend. Or even someone you don''t know and aren''t related to.


    "You can''t have it both ways, Rokas. Either all life is sacred. Or all life is worthless.


    "And seeing as we''re both in the business of killing for money, it''d be hypocritical to call it sacred."


    "We have not worked as mercenaries before, Taha," said Rokas, concerned. "You were using your knife-throwing skills to make a profit, and I was your assistant. We were entertainers."


    Taha blinked. "Oh, oh, that''s right. We did show in Kulat to show off my knife skills. I''d forgotten. I remember things one way, sometimes another.


    "I guess I got a bit caught up in the moment there. I kind of define myself by what is happening now. The past and future are slaves to now, after all."


    "How so?" asked Nendas.


    "Well, what we write down defines what people have as history. Learning from history is how the world advances," said Taha. "If you could learn to write up history to achieve what you wanted and then destroy all other histories, you''d be God. You would be able to make irrelevant all aspects of the past that were not to your liking.


    "And you''d be able to determine the entire course of history after your own death.


    "All you''d need is enough knowledge and the power to enforce your will."


    "And what do you believe in?" asked Nendas. "Past all these words?"


    "Me?" asked Taha. "I don''t care. I could try to take over the world or become a god, but why bother? Putting down the rebellions wouldn''t be worth the hassle. And I''d have to run this place. I ran away from home to escape personal responsibility.


    "I guess I could try rigging history so I define all future events. But why go to the trouble, really? Even if I did write every undesirable piece of history out of existence, how would I benefit? I would still know that the past I created was false, and I''d have to live a lie my entire life. And as for the future, I''m not going to be around for the future.


    "Why should I care what happens in it?"


    "Then why go to all this trouble, though?" asked Nendas.


    "Philosophy is fun to dabble in, but it''s all fake in the end," said Taha. "It has no relevance whatsoever to what I do here and now. See, the gods aren''t real; nature is all there is. Without a higher power, who determines what is right and wrong?


    "We do.


    "I can say that a given line of thought is more rational than another. But what do I mean by rational? If there is no underlying moral reality to adhere to, then my standard is self-imposed. The only source of legitimacy for whatever code I live by is my approval of it.


    "That makes me God. My perception of reality is the only way reality can be gauged. History books and possible futures are only distractions from what is real. Me¡ªmy own actions and beliefs and thoughts, these things are real.


    "And since I''m God, I determine good and evil. I can do whatever I want."


    "But people would stop you," said Rokas.


    "Well, obviously!" laughed Taha. "Nobody can live as if their word is the source of all moral authority. You''d be dead in a few hours, and that would disprove your godhood pretty quick. That''s why religion exists; people want some outside source of structure in their life. Most people don''t have time to create their own moral framework.


    "It''s understandable that some people want to continue buying into the lie that is the Gods. And who am I to call it wrong? There is no such thing as sin, after all, because sin is a parasite that feeds on morality. And morality is nothing more than a figment of my imagination."


    "That''s not true," said Nendas.


    Taha paused. "Hmm?"


    "Let us accept that I am god," said Nendas. "If so, then there is a sin that remains. That sin would be to act contrary to my own nature."


    "How do you figure?" asked Taha.


    "If I have proclaimed theft to be wrong, but I steal, then I am acting in defiance of a divine mandate," said Nendas. "My own, perhaps, but that only makes the sin worse. For I have created rules by which I judge others but refuse to be bound by them myself."


    "Yes, but those rules don''t really exist," said Taha. "They are just something you imagined. In bare physical terms, there is no difference between a good act and an evil one. Yes, different acts lead to different reactions.


    "And maybe you could argue that there is an optimal way to create a society. But even if you did create a society of enlightened pragmatism, it doesn''t really matter. Codes of conduct are based on your actions having meaning. Why is starving to death in a pile of corpses worse in any way than living a long, prosperous life?


    "Is happiness the only goal in life?


    "What if someone gains joy from committing horrible actions? If they live their lives slaughtering innocent people, have they lived a ''good ''life? If they enjoyed it and were happy, then they did. If someone spends their life helping others but is miserable the entire time, is that a ''bad'' one?


    "But it doesn''t matter.


    "Because none of us are real."


    "What are you talking about?" asked Nendas. "How can you say that? You see me right here."


    "Do I?" asked Taha. "Maybe you just imagine me, Nendas. Maybe this entire adventure we''ve been on is all a figment of imagination."


    "Well," said Nendas. "I can be sure I exist."


    "Oh really?" asked Taha. "Are you sure? Maybe what you think are your thoughts are someone else''s thought processes. Maybe Nendas is a cipher by which the real thing that exists is observing us. And we are, in reality, all based on our perceptions.


    "So what you think is you is someone else pretending to be you, so it can observe different aspects of itself. Maybe the only thing we can aspire to do, in the end, is put on a show."


    "That''s why you decided to join up with civilization," said Rokas, suddenly amused. "You wanted someone to discuss philosophy with."


    "Where are you going with this, Taha?" asked Nendas.


    "I''m not going anywhere with anything," said Taha. "Look, your father is dead. But it doesn''t matter because he never existed. Reuniting with him might be as simple as the person observing through you flipping back a few pages. And that''s out of your control.


    "Do what you want to do, Nendas, and don''t concern yourself with anyone else.


    "If you think you have a moral obligation to hunt down the killer of your father, do it. If you want to destroy all religions, becoming a fanatical servant of Samrasa, go ahead. If you want to drink yourself into oblivion, that''s fine too.


    "Maybe you''re only going to do those things because you''ve been preordained for them. Or you''ve made a choice yourself. Or you preordained them for yourself before the book even started.


    "Either way, it doesn''t matter at all.


    "People die.


    "Don''t mourn them because they never existed in the first place. And neither do you."*


    Nendas considered this line of argument and found it... invigorating in a hopeless sort of manner. He thought about his life and realized he''d never thought about what he wanted to do. "I want to avenge my father and bring glory to Tarasif."


    "Done, let''s do that," said Taha. "Sounds fun. I''ve got nothing better to do."


    "It doesn''t matter anyway," said Nendas. "We are not doing this plan you propose, Rokas.


    "Even if we succeeded at that, what would the result be? Samrasa has no heir. Tarasif would be leaderless and descend into civil war. The Hasafa Clan would disown me, and we''d probably all be executed.


    "War with Kulat would come anyway, and we''d all end up dead. Our names would be black marks on history.


    "And what would we gain out of it in the end?"


    "So what will you do?" asked Rokas.


    "Play along, for the moment," said Nendas. "Ralign, at least, I can gain vengeance on. Once I''ve restored myself to my old status... I will have options. I may be able to consider alternatives to blind obedience. For now, however, we have to lie still and play the role of obedient and easily manipulated servants."


    "What does Jaha tell you to do?" asked Taha.


    "Does it really matter at this point?" said Nendas. "I''m going to have to bury my father. And I don''t care if he never existed, Taha. I intend to give my due to the dead."


    "Do what you want," said Taha.


    These discussions with Taha were... interesting. And thinking about them helped Nendas ignore the pain he felt. And the knowledge that Father was dead.


    *The astute reader will realize at this point that Taha is completely insane.


    Ironically she is also correct. I am making observations about my projections of Tanith''s interpretation of Taha. One that is further distorted through the lens of previous writers. Given that there are certainly inaccuracies, ''Taha'' as I know her does not exist beyond the page. Such a line of thought is dangerous, however.


    Where does it end? You are reading my observations of a compilation of a translation of a history textbook. One that may or may not be accurate. From this, you might conclude that you have some understanding of me. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But is that understanding even your own? Or something someone else has put into your mind? Maybe by reading into this book, you and I are being written by those on the page.


    Existence could be defined as ones'' ability to influence the world. If so, the Taha portrayed here is as real as the one who she was based on. Thoughts inform action, and what you read affects your thoughts.


    If you want to understand a culture, learn their mythology.

 Chapter 112 - Nine: Supply Lines

    Months later, the invasion of Kulat had begun.


    The justification had been an assassination, along with several other convenient attacks. These attacks could have been better executed and easily defeated. No prisoners were taken to tell any story other than what Samrasa wanted them to say.


    Declaring war went very well indeed as well. People seemed enthusiastic about adding Kulat to the empire. It would be a great triumph for them. Nendas kept getting the urge to intervene and stop it.


    But every time, he asked Jaha exactly what she wanted him to do. Samrasa wanted a war and was powerful enough to pursue it. At best, Nendas could convince him to delay it, and that could destroy him. He did try sending letters to Uncle but got no response at all. Nendas hoped this was because Uncle had some plan that required a lack of communication.


    In all likelihood, it was probably that he was not reading them.


    In fact, when the Hasafa Clan''s troops arrived, there was bad news. It seemed things had all stopped running nearly as well since Father left. Uncle usually delegated things to him, and now that he had to do them himself, he was... inferior. Father had put things in place well enough so they could run themselves. But they would eventually need a leader.


    Sarafi had tried to fill the place, but she was young, inexperienced, and needed more real legitimacy. She could sit in on meetings to represent the leadership when Munsuf was sleeping or drunk. But she could not speak with authority. He could only give approval to decisions made by her advisors.


    Fortunately, Vandias had put in place competent advisors. So disaster was averted for now. Nendas had hoped, even expected, to be called in to fill in. Uncle would need someone there to avoid the place falling apart. However, Uncle made no attempt at communication.


    Soon Nendas began to suspect he was being avoided and ostracized. Letters exchanged with other family members, however, told a worse story. Uncle held lavish festivals and parties often, the sort of thing Father had always reigned in. Word also came that he had forbidden many members of the Hasafa Clan from entering the war.


    Instead, he gave them positions of influence handed by Samrasa. This gave a bad reputation if you spoke to most. Nendas often found himself having to mount a defense for a clan he was technically no longer a part of. All he was able to say, in the end, was that Jaha had chosen to use different agents than the Hasafa to prove her power.


    Privately, Nendas began to suspect what should have been obvious from the start. Uncle was simply a hedonistic coward. He did not want to go to war, nor did he have the resolve to take up any manful deed. His only goal was to lead a life of luxury where everyone fawned at his feet. But he knew that if other members of his clan gained great power, he could lose that.


    Head of the Clan, he might be, but accidents could happen.


    So Uncle was not merely content to cower in a palace but also insisted that all of his relatives do the same. Lest one gains enough power to remove him. And only the terror of being disposed of himself could get him to loosen his grip.


    Samrasa must have known that as well. He''d counted on it.


    It was a trap, of course. Samrasa would arouse the jealousy of other houses toward the Hasafa. All while denying them glory in battle. Then when the war was done, he would dispose of them as he had the worshippers of Elranor. Nendas even risked writing a letter to Uncle saying this, in vague terms, and then to Sarafi.


    That had scared him enough to take action, and Hasafa Clans were allowed to join the battle. Though some still took positions of influence, many more went into support roles. Uncle did not allow them to join the main battlefront. But they were dispatched to garrisons and sent to guard the border. Oftentimes bandits came out of the woods when the King was away, after all.


    All things considered, war was almost a relief. Justice, after all, was the other quality of Jaha.


    Nendas was eager to prove the valor of the Hasafa to whom he did not belong. And it got on well at first. Samrasa met the enemy in battle on the border. Ralign proved himself here.


    They led the charge himself. Nendas and Rokas were with him on either side.


    They shattered the enemy lines and drove them in. Many were killed, while others fled. Yet, the victory was not complete.


    The Kulatian horsemen, under the command of the Prince Suruf of Kulat, were able to cover the retreat. The armies of Tarasif sought to pursue. But that was thwarted when the Kulatian horsemen, in turn, went to harass their supply lines. By the time the way was secure, the enemy had escaped and drew up fresh forces.


    Taha had not directly participated in the fighting. Nendas had her act as a messenger and watchman. And also a companion now and then. Often they would discuss philosophy and the nature of reality in the waning hours of the night. Sometimes they had an audience interested to hear the discussions.


    But the campaign, after this, slowed to a crawl. Several skirmishes ensued between Samrasa and Prince Suruf. Each one saw the infantry of Tarasif break their Kulatian counterparts. However, the horsemen would often see their flanks. Kulatian archers are better than their Tarasifian counterparts. Of course, Tarasif had numbers and plenty more where that came from.


    However, the swift victory Samrasa had hoped for never materialized. The open fields of Kulat were an ideal place for horsemen to ride. And as Samrasa gained ground, Kulat began to outflank his armies and strike at his long supply chain. A spell of miserable weather then ensued. It consisted of vast downpours, which shouldn''t have happened this time of year.


    Samrasa became irritable. Ralign was sent out on several very dangerous assignments and came back victorious. He fought atop a hill surrounded by enemy forces five times his number and won at one time. Nendas, Rokas, and Taha had been in that battle and done very well within it, but Ralign had proven a deadly warrior. Nendas had seen a chance to get him in the back but disregarded the move as suicide.


    Fortunately, Samrasa seemed too pleased by the victory to be upset. Nendas suspected Samrasa did not want to take responsibility for the murder himself. It would be less weight on his mind if Ralign conveniently died without his orders.


    Nendas feigned obliviousness and cited that he was waiting for orders. That got him off the hook.


    Jaha felt sympathy for Ralign. Nendas did not.*


    One day, Nendas was walking through the camp when, by chance, he saw Lord Munsuf from afar. He had refused to go to the battlefront at all, assigning his clan to support roles and not taking any part. However, outrage at his absence had been steadily growing. So it appeared that he felt obligated to finally join the war.


    The armor did not suit him, and not in the way it didn''t suit the green recruit guarding him. The one was inexperienced but resolved to do his best. The other, Uncle, had plenty of experience in all the wrong pursuits. He had come to his rightful place as an unwanted chore, and he looked irritable.


    He was also fatter, having put on more weight since Nendas had seen him.


    Then Uncle saw him, and the second he did, his face went cold and furious. Then he checked himself and pretended not to have seen him. Then he moved into King Samrasa''s tent.


    A chance encounter.


    But telling.


    Nendas smiled. And he realized that news of his deeds had forced this unpleasantness on Lord Munsuf. No doubt the Hasafa would join the battle properly. Munsuf could not restrain them and go himself any more than he could cower and let them go.


    Even so, Nendas decided to get out of the main army. Samrasa might look for a target to take out his anger on. And Uncle hated and feared Nendas if his reaction was any indication. The two were very close if the talk was anything. Though what Samrasa saw in Uncle was beyond him.


    And that was why he went to Ralign.


    "You want to guard the supply lines?" asked Ralign, polishing his axe. "There''s no glory in that."


    "Someone has to do it," said Nendas, who had learned to keep his hatred for the man in check. "And I don''t seem to serve much purpose here. Moreover, I''m beginning to think I am attracting poor attention from my Uncle."


    "Well, we are in need of someone good for that job," muttered Ralign. "Almost none of the nobles want it. I''d handle it myself, but the King has a lot of assignments he can''t give to anyone but me.


    "I could arrange for the position, but you''ll find it even more miserable than here. Guarding merchants will win you no glory, and if things go badly enough, everyone will blame you for it."


    "The way things are going now, I''m concerned that may happen anyway," admitted Nendas. "My Uncle seems to have become disenchanted with me. And he has King Samrasa''s ear."


    "Fair enough," said Ralign with a knowing laugh. "I wouldn''t worry; he''ll fall from grace soon enough. King Samrasa is practical in setting up his alliances. He needs him for something now; once he doesn''t need him, he''ll focus on something else."


    Why did Ralign think he was exempt from that same use and disposal process? Because he had been with Samrasa a long time? So had the Hasafa. Was it friendship? No, Ralign wasn''t equal to Samrasa by any means. He was simply loyal, completely and utterly to Samrasa.


    And Samrasa was betraying that loyalty.


    Samrasa would use Nendas to destroy Ralign and then destroy the Hasafa Clan in turn. Likely, he already had his real replacement lined up somewhere else. But would the person Samrasa replaced Ralign with really be as loyal or as powerful? Nendas found it very unlikely.


    They''d be young, and Samrasa was not the same man he''d once been. This kind of behavior would have been unthinkable for him once. A man who behaved in this fashion would have never taken power. Samrasa would not be able to find someone as loyal and effective as Ralign.


    And for what? So Samrasa could justify destroying the Hasafa Clan? They had been loyal and sympathetic to his ideology. At least before he corrupted Munsuf?


    How would that benefit Samrasa?


    It would leave him without his best subordinate, with the surviving Hasafa out for blood. Not to mention the other nobles'' families were paranoid. And Samrasa was getting on in years; he''d need a right hand to help him.


    Who could that subordinate be? A creature like Munsuf? He was completely worthless for anything but weakening a rival? A social climber like Taha? She''d sell Samrasa up the river and take power when they saw the way the wind was blowing. Someone with genuine loyalty to Tarasif? They could be swayed against him. A member of a noble family? They''d put their own people in place and sideline him.


    What someone like Rokas? Who had no other options but advancement through a benefactor but was moral and loyal.


    An outsider with a sense of honor who would do a day''s work for a day''s pay? A mercenary with a sense of professional pride. Perhaps that could work, but mercenaries were unreliable. The person Samrasa needed in the aftermath of killing Ralign was Ralign himself. An accomplished enforcer with absolute loyalty to Samrasa.


    So why kill Ralign in the first place? Why kill Father?


    There was no need for any of this.


    No wonder Jaha had taken no direct action against Samrasa so far. She didn''t need to. He was ripping his empire into shreds. Every action Samrasa had taken had alienated allies. They had weakened his power and made him less secure.


    Father had been completely loyal to Munsuf. Ralign could have been reigned in with a few harsh words.


    His own evil deeds would consume him soon enough.


    The only question left was why?


    Then it dawned on Nendas. The problem was Munsuf.


    Samrasa was not a fool, and he had many great victories. He might have feared the Hasafa Clan but would not have risked civil war in open confrontation. Munsuf, however, had provided him with an opportunity. The man''s refusal to adhere to his responsibilities had given Samrasa his chance.


    It was the opportunity to remove a dangerous rival.


    Samrasa had come to power in some of the most vicious courts intrigues in Tarasif''s history. Playing the game had been second nature to him. Just as Ralign did not feel at home in peace, perhaps Samrasa was not at home with security. He was likely looking for some plot at all times, and he was right to do so.


    Just as Samrasa had corrupted Munsuf, so too had Munsuf corrupted Samrasa. Samrasa had not regarded Munsuf as a threat. But he had not considered the threat posed by using Munsuf as a tool.


    Nendas considered what the plan here had been.


    Uncle had wanted Nendas to become the Avatar of Jaha in Sarafi''s place. If that had happened, Nendas would have been tied down as an advisor to Munsuf. It would have damaged the mystique of Jaha, and Samrasa would have had his puppet.


    But Munsuf had bungled the whole thing, hadn''t he? Nendas had argued against marrying Sarafi on principle. If Munsuf had just put his foot and told Nendas to know his place, the plan would have gone perfectly. But Munsuf only accepted this plan because he hated doing work and those who did it for him.


    So he''d only gotten Nendas made Avatar of Jaha without the traditional marriage. Suddenly, Nendas was the Avatar of a God and a warrior with no official connection to the Hasafa. And Samrasa had just set his Father up to be murdered. So Samrasa compensated for Munsuf''s failures. He took Nendas into his entourage. He had led them here with everyone plotting against each other.


    Nendas found himself in awe. Munsuf had destroyed decades of careful planning with only a bit of malice apathy. Yes, Samrasa had bad intentions, but he might never have acted on them if the Hasafa Clan had stood ready to stop him. Tarasif might be burned to the ground because of the wretched creature.


    But it did not really matter in the end. Nendas had to do what he could to keep the situation in control, and the first step to that was winning this war.


    And that was how Nendas, Taha, and Rokas had gotten here to this well-paved road. A relic of the Old Sarafian Empire, it remained in perfect order even now.


    The caravan moved slowly but surely along the path. Nendas walked alongside it while Taha sat cross-legged on top. Her knives were laid out before her on the wagon as she stood as a lookout. They''d driven off several attempts to waylay several such caravans.


    Invariably, Taha would hear them coming on the winds. Rokas knew all the best places to defend, so they fought and won a series of skirmishes.


    "Two months," said Nendas suddenly.


    "Hmm?" asked Taha, looking up.


    "We''ve been at this task for two months now. We have been guarding caravans while King Samrasa fights his battle," said Nendas. "He''s taken three cities and conquered dozens of villages. The banner of the King has been cheered by some and is a source of terror for many.


    "It seems like it only happened a few days ago. The funeral, I mean." Nendas still remembered the sight of his father being consumed in flames. Samrasa had made a martyr of him against the Gods. Speeches were made in the streets, condemning the insurgents for misusing their faith.


    At the same time, Nendas, Taha, and Rokas were raised as heroes. Positive examples of what people ought to be. And Nendas simply remained silent and let people think whatever they wanted. To do otherwise would endanger himself.


    Which was the real trick.


    Samrasa almost never directly condemned a religion. Rather, he would have his minions make scathing commentary. They would condemn every crime committed by the religious. Each and everyone would be exaggerated. Then, in order to prevent people from accusing him of persecution, he made role models.


    Nendas, Taha, and Rokas were paragons of a sort.


    Nendas was a ''good'' religious person who did not allow his faith to interfere with his actions. Rokas was the ''good'' Kulatian who had come over to Tarasif''s side. They were paragons of what Samrasa regarded as the ideal religious citizen. Someone who claimed to be religious. But they would never let their religion influence their actions.


    But such religion was nothing but a worthless facade. Faith that did not influence your actions was but a lie¡ªthe sort the Urishia had always used.


    What did that make Taha? The ''good'' non-religious citizen? Surely not. If every person in the world were like Taha, society would collapse. Parents would abandon their children, and the old would be treated with contempt.


    No, Taha was the representative of an ideal.


    She was Samrasa''s ideology, after a fashion.


    "Well, the dead don''t exactly keep in touch," said Taha after a moment.


    Paragons or now, however, Taha, Nendas, and Rokas had been sent to the caravans. The ones'' that carried supplies.


    Nendas and Taha''s debates had begun to attract audiences, of course. He''d seen them looking at the two. Even so, Taha seemed oddly contemplative now. "Have I ever told you what happened to my village? I remember looking out from a rooftop when dozens of riders came over the dunes. All the militia were called up with their spears, and everyone was terrified.


    "But I was excited.


    "I remember watching as the gates were smashed open and spear-to-spear combat began. Some of the enemies slipped past our main defense and started looting. It was the most exciting thing I''d ever seen."


    "So what happened?" asked Nendas.


    "Oh, we won," said Taha. "The Lord arrived, and we killed off the raiders. Their leader got off, though; he was a noble, so he got special treatment. They didn''t even get to my house. Hardly anyone died.


    "It was very disappointing."


    "What were you hoping for?" asked Nendas, well used to this kind of inverse. Taha existed as a mirror to everything his society representative.


    "I don''t know," admitted Taha. "Being kidnapped by a dashing rogue with plans of revenge? Having my village burned down except me, so I''d have to plan revenge? Some sort of change in my life.


    "But, the only damages were swiftly repaired. I wasn''t expected to help with the repairs, and when I offered to, I was firmly declined.


    "I wanted adventure and excitement, for my existence to have meaning. I spent years toiling dutifully, just waiting for the call to adventure. I am waiting for someone to give me purpose and meaning for a mysterious stranger to ask for my help.


    "I waited for the call. But the call never came."


    "Is our present situation to your liking?" asked Nendas, who had been hoping to see direct combat.


    Taha smiled. "Oh, definitely.


    "I''d much rather guard caravans than fight on the front lines."


    "You may speak for yourself, Taha," said Rokas. "When I joined the King''s entourage, this is not how I hoped to spend my time. We won great glory on the battle field earlier; I wish we could have had more battles like that."


    "You were a very good guide for the first few weeks, Rokas," said Taha. "Samrasa just found others who could fill the role. So he gave you a position of greater responsibility.


    "Just be glad we''re doing supply train duty. It''s a lot safer this way."


    "Perhaps, but there is little glory to be had ferrying supplies," said Rokas.


    "I have no interest in glory. And inglorious jobs are often the most important," said Nendas. "If this shipment does not arrive, King Samrasa''s army may run low on food. If he runs low on food, our army will go hungry. If they are hungry, they won''t fight well. If they don''t fight well, we lose this war.


    "And if that happens, Tarasif will probably be sacked." The Avatar of Jaha was more suited to support roles anyway.


    "It might have been given to others if you and Taha hadn''t been debating philosophy," said Rokas.


    "It''s not my fault we attracted an audience," said Taha. "And anyway, I don''t see why Samrasa had a problem with it. His ideals are winning."


    "No, they weren''t," said Nendas, looking at some of the guards. "And even if they were, Tarasif as a whole would have lost the debate."


    "What do you mean?" asked Taha.


    "Not again," muttered the caravan master.


    "Taha, your ideology is one of absolute nihilism," said Nendas. "In your mind, nothing has any value save what we put into it. If, indeed, we can put any value into a thing. You have taken the ideals of King Samrasa to a logical extreme. One that, if brought into full flower, would destroy all creation.


    "A son could murder his father and mother and be as morally pure as a saint.


    "However, the ideals of the Gods are likewise extreme. No one deity''s ideals can be allowed to remain unchecked. Peace, if allowed to reach its zenith, will become stagnant. That will cause a collapse into far greater chaos. Healing, if focused on above all else, will lead to altering things that need no change. A fast breeze can be a miracle to men but turned into a hurricane; it destroys everything."


    "What''s your point?" asked Rokas.


    "King Samrasa is the King," said Nendas. "His purpose is to act as a divine mediator between the deities. He rules with their blessing, and in turn, he ensures that their temples are protected. Sometimes, there is a conflict between god and mortal, and King Samrasa must take sides.


    "It is a similar position to my own. Just not aligned with any specific religion."


    "So, how does that mean Samrasa would lose if you were to win such a debate?" asked Taha.


    "''Winning'' in this situation would require proving one ideal to be true," said Nendas. "If an idea were to be proven absolute, then all other ideals would simply be pale shadows. Things that take from the perfect idea and create a mockery.


    "In which case, all other religions would be wrong, and avatars would be a moot point."


    Of course, Nendas wanted to say that King Samrasa derived authority from gods. If Taha was victorious, then King Samrasa had no authority as King. If Nendas had proven Taha wrong, then Samrasa was a rebel against the rightful rulers of Tarasif. Only by the continued conflict between the two ideals could he have any authority at all.


    But one could not say such things without being executed.


    Nendas decided to change the subject. "Taha, do you see anything?"


    "Actually, yes," said Taha. "I can hear on the winds about... thirty horsemen coming toward us from the north. Heavy armor, lots of swords based on how the wind cuts them."


    Nendas motioned to his men before pointing north and reforming. Their spears were readied, and they held themselves in check.


    "How can you tell in such detail?" asked Rokas, who drew up a spear.


    "It''s all about wind currents," said Taha. "You feel the wind and match it against the scent. You cannot describe it, but anyone can do it if they learn the knack."


    "Form up," said Nendas. "Be prepared to repel them when they come. When they appear, we''ll lock our shields and repel them. Stand your ground, and they may be repulsed. Run, and they''ll cut you down as you flee.


    "In the name of Jaha, die before you yield," Then he planted his own spear.


    "I''ve heard rumors," said a man. "Of a troop of horsemen who raid our supplies. They slaughter everyone they lay hands on."


    "Well then," said Taha. "I guess we''d better kill them first. Nendas, I''m going to throw knives as per usual."


    Nendas heard them.


    The hoofbeats.


    Horses were not a common thing in Tarasif; you rarely saw them. Nor were they in Kulat until a few decades ago. The King had chosen to introduce horsemen to flank his enemy. Kulat had been a menace, and several other caravans had been intercepted.


    And then they came.


    Nendas had never seen a horse before now, but the sheer scale of the beasts was breathtaking. There were thirty of them, all larger than a man, and each one with an armored soldier on it. The ground shook beneath their coming as the men wavered.


    "Stand your ground!" said Nendas. "Lower your spears! Taha, if any one of these men turns their back, kill them immediately!"


    That steadied them. The armor they bore did not extend to their backs. They knew perfectly well that if they fled, they''d take a dagger to the back. And the caravan behind them would make flight difficult.


    Nendas had heard several stories.


    These cavalry, when they hit a line, caved it in.


    "Stand your ground!" said Nendas. "Taha awaits the man who abandons his line!"


    The shaking of the ground became worse and worse. The creatures seemed even more gigantic up close. Nendas lined his spear up to stop the coming onslaught. One of the men backed away to try and slip out and took a dagger to the back.


    And then came the crash.


    The heavily armored creatures crashed into the line of spears. Nendas saw him knock a man off his horse but was forced to dodge aside. Several horses were knocked over as their riders were cast to the ground. Others among the men were cleaved down, but the line.


    Then all became chaos as dirt and grime kicked up. Nendas stabbed down with a spear to get a fallen foe in the chest. However, the armor caused it to glance off. Even so, his enemy was knocked back. An armored soldier fell with a knife through the weak point in his armor, then another. Rokas could be seen fighting with a well-armored figure.


    One of the Kulatian warriors cleaved down a militia. Nendas watched him scream as he raised the stump where his hand had been. A moment later, he was dead. People were dying all around Nendas, and looking up; he saw a knight going after one of the merchants. Drawing his sword, Nendas shouted in challenge to the man. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He turned and went at him, and Nendas parried a blow. Disarming him, he struck him across the helm with the flat of his blade. The man fell to the ground in a stupor, and Nendas kicked him while he was down. Turning, he saw a man coming for him, parried his blow, and drove a sword through his throat on reflex.


    It was not the first person he had killed, but the deed made Nendas all the more miserable. Around him, he saw the fighting winding down as the Kulatian nobles were found and pulled down. No one seemed particularly keen on killing them for... reasons beyond Nendas'' comprehension. Granted, he knew that the blood of a noble was worth more than a peasant or merchant, but...


    All the blood around him looked the same.


    However, Rokas was fighting with his enemy, and they were going at it with real fury. Blade glanced at the gauntlet before Rokas bore him down and slammed him against the ground. The noble struggled to rise, but men grabbed him first.


    "Avatar of Jaha," said a man. "We are victorious."


    "We defeated the nobles of Kulat," said a man. "Where is their vaunted gods now?"


    "They are with us!" said another.


    "Peace," said Nendas. "I must heal the wounded, and then you must ensure our enemies are disarmed. We may need them as captives."


    There weren''t many wounded foot soldiers. Nendas had been given control of a group of inexperienced levies. Time and again, he''d heard of slaughters of said levies while the nobles emerged unscathed. It was not so this time.


    They''d lost six of their number and several horses. Many of the beasts had fled; others were being rounded up. Even so, they seemed stunned, evidently have not expected to lose.


    "Honorless Tarasifian bastard!" said the one Rokas had fought. He had a very fine appearance in his armor. "You shame the one you are pledged to by your actions!"


    Nendas ignored him until he finished healing. Once done, he decided that the Prince of Kulat was not among these as had been rumored. A Prince would surely make himself known.


    "I need prove nothing to you," said Nendas, wondering at the noble''s identity. The others seemed to defer to him. "Rokas, do you recognize him?"


    "Yes, Nendas. He is..." Rokas paused.


    "Rokas, you accursed bastard! You betray your family, your faith, and your nation for these animals!" said the man. "You serve these desecrators of temples? And walk among a common levy?!"


    "One has to eat, brother," said Rokas simply. "And I have advanced a great deal in this time."


    "Brother?!" said the noble. "You are no brother of mine! You worthless, depraved homosexual! Your spirit is as corrupt as your flesh!"


    Murmurs of the men. Nendas turned to a man. "Gag him. I''ve heard enough of this slander."


    "I can''t gag a Prince!" said soldier.


    "A Prince..." Nendas confused. "Where? Beyond the brute?" He didn''t see anyone with the appearance of royalty here.


    "You dare insult my caste, traitor to the gods!" said the man. "I am Prince Suruf of Kulat, Rightful Heir to the Throne! I have joined the battlefield and destroyed five caravans of your minions!"


    "All of whom had families and friends," said Nendas. "Why do you make a boast of atrocity?"


    "You didn''t even have the guts to fight us directly," said Taha. "You came at us with horses and armor, and you still used hit-and-run tactics."


    Suruf fell silent. "You should have been grateful to have been shown what mercy you were. Instead, you repay Father''s kindness by serving a Hasafa?"


    "A man without any family must take any company he can find," said Rokas. "If you did not want me to walk into the hands of your enemies, you should not have left me with no friends.


    "I hold my family in no hatred, however-"


    "Rokas, how many brothers do you have?" asked Taha suddenly.


    "Two," said Rokas. "But why does it matter?"


    "You have no brothers, animal! You have no kin or nation! You will-" Suruf fell short as Taha drew out her last dagger. "You wouldn''t dare... these meaningless threats have no terror to me." Taha, however, continued drawing forward.


    "Taha, wait," said Rokas. "What are you doing?"


    "If we cut his throat, you''ll only have one brother to worry about," said Taha. "Kill off your brothers, and we can get Samrasa to get you reinstated. Rightful king returns after the convenient death of his Father. Then history goes how we want."


    Murmurs of horror came from the men.


    Did Taha even know what she was suggesting?


    "Oh, what," said Taha. "Nobles do this kind of thing all the time. All these rules and regulations are only important to them when applied to other people.


    "Tarasif needs a friendly ruler on the throne of Kulat. Rokas knows the place and is a pretty good choice. How many of your friends did this brat kill anyway? Why are you defending him? Do you think he''d defend you if your positions were reversed?


    "He''d probably slit your throat with a smile on his face."


    "I do not want to kill my family, Taha," said Rokas. "However hateful they have been to me. To commit an evil deed is no less wicked simply because one has wronged you."


    "In any case," said Nendas. "Killing him could cause serious unforeseen problems. And Samrasa may have a problem with what you are doing now."


    "And what about someone who has wronged the gods?" asked Taha. "He''s been pretty disrespectful to Jaha, Nendas. Someone of lesser rank could be executed for speaking to you like that in a heartbeat."


    "That may be so," said Nendas. "But I would not order their execution simply to avenge wounded pride."


    Taha sighed and sheathed her knife. "Fine, whatever you say. If you don''t want to take vengeance, I won''t do it for you." And she walked past Suruf.


    Suruf took a moment to confirm that Taha was walking past. His expression grew to one of contempt. "Is this what the Jaha is capable of, now? Restraining a deluded peasant whore from atrocity?"


    Taha halted and turned, dagger being drawn high. However, she halted as Nendas looked at her. After a moment, Nendas considered things. Then reflected that this man was overtly hostile. If he responded to mercy with further mockery, he would turn on Tarasif if he ever got the throne. Moreover, he had committed blasphemy against Jaha. He believed his status as a Prince would protect him.


    But he was wrong.


    So much for the legendary religious fervor of Kulat, this man was no more than a petty raider.


    "Taha, he is yours," said Nendas. "I give him into your hands." And it was not him speaking.


    Turning on the Prince, Taha was at him from behind. Dragging off his helm, she slashed his throat. The man gurgled, blood spilling out as Taha held him in place. Taha grabbed him by the neck.


    "When you get to hell, inform Diabolus that Taha will be coming for him," said Taha, and then she snapped his neck.


    The men stared in shock and incredulousness. Nendas walked before them.


    "Nendas..." said Rokas. "That was not necessary."


    "It was," said Nendas. "Ask me to forgive an insult to myself or a friend, and I shall do so gladly. Ask me to forgive the wrongs he dealt you, and I shall do so gladly. To forgive the slaughter of so many soldiers and caravans is all possible. For this is war, and such things happen.


    "But to forgive blasphemy against Jaha herself?


    "That is not within my power to forgive. He had already spurned her mercy several times, confident that mere rank made him above her." He looked to his men. "Well done, all of you. This day you have proven yourselves, warriors, in both spirit and body."


    "What will we tell Samrasa?" asked Rokas.


    "The truth, of course," said Nendas. "Your brother was an evil man who had the misfortune to be useless to us. But, we will arrange a proper funeral, of course."


    Nendas decided that Jaha acted differently through him than she did through women.*


    The point, however, was made. No one was above the gods.


    *This sequence was taken from a brief history of the conflict. I added it to the beginning of the second half to provide context. I should note the existence of horses is one that has almost gone out of memory. Anoa killed them all, and I did not know about them until Kiyora spoke of them.


    A regrettable oversight in my education that has since been corrected.


    *This statement is a bit redundant, as are several others in this chapter. Often they restate things that have already been covered.


    Bear in mind; this is taken from a different text than those we have seen earlier. Virtually all of them make a point to note that Nendas channels Jaha''s differently. Tarasifians do not seem to have any warrior tradition for women. Taha appears to have walked in by virtue of sheer audacity. So this may have been an attempt to explain his different actions.

 Chapter 113 - Ten: Justice or Revenge

    The camp received the death of the Prince of Kulat with great joy. Many of the men had lost friends to his raids, and his brutality to the farmers of Tarasif was well-known. With his death, it seemed likely that the war was nearing its end. That Jaha herself had ordained his execution meant the Gods condemned Kulat. Or, at least until Samrasa found it convenient for it to be otherwise.


    A gift of horses and armor, all given to Samrasa, was made, and Samrasa saw the men''s enthusiasm. So he graciously accepted the gift and gave rich rewards to Nendas, Taha, and Rokas. Who, in turn, gave them up and handed them all over to the warriors. One who had fought with them against the Prince of Kulat.


    Money was no object, and the act bought them many friends.


    The strange thing was that Nendas could remember none of it. More and more on this campaign, his senses blurred together. What day was it? What month? It all seemed like a waking dream. And though he remembered speaking, he felt less and less like a person and more like a puppet of divine schemes.


    Sometimes a man would approach him as the Avatar of Jaha or even as Nendas and pick up a conversation. And yet Nendas would have no memory of the man, his name, or anything about him. But it would be as though he knew him well.


    Yet, he''d carry on his end of the conversation with ease. That was the strange part as if Jaha remembered and was speaking for him.


    All three of them ought to have been executed. Was Samrasa saving them from execution later?


    Jaha certainly seemed much more popular than before. Perhaps he didn''t think the moment to kill Nendas was right? Well, if Samrasa''s treatment of Ralign was any indication, Nendas was no worse off than before. He still needed someone to kill and replace Ralign, after all. Until then, he was safe.


    Either way, here they were, sitting over a cooking fire, waiting for their rice to be done.


    "Well, camp life is fun, isn''t it?" asked Taha with a grin.


    "Not particularly," said Nendas.


    "Well then, why didn''t you choose to be part of the King''s entourage?" asked Rokas. "He offered you that after we killed the Prince of Kulat." Rokas seemed remarkably devoid of grief at the death of his brother. His objections were on principle and not affection. Nendas could only assume he''d never liked the bastard.


    "I am the Avatar of Jaha," said Nendas, the word hollow on his tongue. "One of my responsibilities is living without luxury. It would set a poor example if I were seen drinking and partying with Ralign." He glanced up to where boisterous laughter could be heard from the tent.


    "You seem to have been getting on with Ralign better," said Taha.


    "It''s a matter of necessity," said Nendas, pausing between mouthfuls. "If I were constantly chafing at the bit and throwing accusations around, I would do no one any good. My feud with him is of no present relevance. If he intends to treat me with greater respect, I see no reason not to return the gesture."


    "In any case, I agree with Nendas," said Rokas. "We should not take advantage of hospitality we do not deserve. It is better to serve well and receive less than to receive more and not serve."


    "Perhaps you could tell the Lord Munsuf that," noted Nendas.


    "He would not listen," said Rokas. "He does not have the build of one who trains for war as much as he ought to. And why would I if his instructors that trained your father did no better?"


    Taha ate some rice and looked up. "What''s that quote from? The one about serving and receiving?"


    "It''s a personal philosophy," said Rokas lowering his bowl. "I used to read a great deal. My Father taught me that I must always serve others before myself. House Aka has always held service to a right cause to be its own reward."


    "Oh yes, because he''s a true role model," said Taha.


    "Just because he mistreated me in some form does not mean that all his words are worthless, Taha," said Rokas.


    Looking at the pot, Nendas noticed a small amount of rice left. Rokas deferred to him, but Nendas shrugged. "...You may have the last one, Rokas."


    "Hmm, oh yes," said Rokas. "You need not concern yourself; I am not hungry."


    "Well, let me have it, then," said Taha, scooping out more. "Samrasa gave me a job, and I won''t do it on an empty stomach. I''m going back up to the hill soon. The armies of Kulat will fight us sooner or later, so we''ve got to attack at the right time.


    "King Samrasa wants me to read the winds and find him an opening."


    "How does ''reading the wind'' even work?" asked Nendas, suspecting he already knew.


    "Well, I have these scrolls with special rituals on them," said Taha, drawing them out. "I put them out and put a bit of blood on them."


    "Rituals from where?" asked Nendas.


    "Um, the cult of Tamar," said Taha.


    They stared at her.


    "What?" said Taha.


    "... That''s a divine technique!" said Rokas. "You are using the Gods while denying their existence! That''s contradicting your ideology!" S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No, I''m not," said Taha. "Look, it''s meditation combined with using tools to figure out weather patterns. Anyone could do it if they learned the techniques for it."


    "So are you going to teach other people the techniques?" asked Nendas.


    "Of course not," said Taha. "I''d be out of a job. These rituals are the main thing I have other people don''t. Anyway, Nendas, what has been up with you? Ever since we started this campaign, you have been weird."


    "How so?" asked Nendas.


    "Well, sometimes you''re yourself," said Taha. "Other times, though, you wander off to talk to people. Ask them all kinds of questions and suggest solutions to their problems. You get them to repair relationships and such.


    "The Peacemaker, some are calling you.


    "You also up and disappeared one week to heal a bunch of villages where a plague was starting."


    "...I don''t remember," said Nendas, considering what to do about this.


    "Well, it''s probably saved our neck," said Taha. "I think Samrasa got hoisted on his cross. He arbitrarily declared Jaha the ''good'' deity, hoping it would pull the teeth on the moderates. Then he had the ''Avatar'' make a man instead of a woman to discredit her.


    "Instead, you''ve got people saying Jaha is the One True God of Tarasif and that all others are subordinate. Very amusing, but it could get us all killed."


    Nendas looked up and saw people looking at him from different campfires. Was it him, or was there a reverence that had not existed before? "I''m sorry, I don''t remember any of it. It must have been Jaha acting through me."


    Was it possible that his inability to act as the Avatar of Jaha should lead her to act directly through him? This had never happened before. There had been accounts of Avatars going into trances and being spoken to. Yet nothing like this.


    "I really think you should confront your inner darkness, Nendas," said Taha. "Gods don''t exist, so obviously, you''ve shut out everything from your mind. Probably because you wish the Gods do exist. So you are delegating a portion of your mind to act in their stead. You can conquer only by confronting that part of yourself; you refuse to acknowledge it."


    "What does that even mean?" asked Rokas flatly.


    "I have no idea," said Taha. "But it sounds appealing, and since all truths are invalid anyway, it''s as legitimate as any other." And she got up to undertake her mission.


    At that point, a man approached. "Avatar."


    "Yes, what is it?" asked Nendas.


    "Some of our men have become sick with a strange illness," said the man. "Can Queen Jaha aid us?"


    Nendas stood up, feeling the hints of the blur. Finally, however, he forced it back. He would live through these moments. "I shall come at once."


    "Taha, do you mind if I accompany you?" asked Rokas.


    "Actually, yes," said Taha, drawing out the scroll. "This is something I do on my own. I can''t make it work with distractions."


    In a dream, or perhaps in a waking vision, Nendas walked away from himself alongside Taha. She made her way up to the peak of the hill. It was just outside the command tent where merriment was being made. Unrolling the scrolls, she cut a finger and let a drop of blood fall onto it. From there, she smoothed it red over the paper and closed her eyes.


    The wind was on her face, and Nendas saw her focusing.


    The world, Taha thought, was not directed by divine forces. It was a mathematical system¡ªa chain of events set in motion long ago with only one possible ending. Every piece had been set in place by cosmic accident at the beginning of all things.


    You only needed to see the calculations to know what would happen.


    But seeing the calculation is impossible for anyone; it is too big. So you have to estimate and round the calculations; you can see. Using that, you can get a general sense of where things are going.


    And if things are big enough, a general sense is all you need.


    "Got it!" said Taha suddenly in triumph. "Thank you, Tamar, not that you exist." And she rolled up her scroll before hurrying into the tent. Within, she found Samrasa feasting with his nobles. They were boasting of heroic deeds and making grand plans. And they were left out of it.


    No idols of any god stood in this place around them.


    Taha hurried past them and kneeled by Samrasa''s side, and the old man looked at her and smiled. "King Samrasa?"


    "Yes, what is it, dear girl?" asked Samrasa. His eyes brightened at her presence.


    "Our enemy approaches and seeks battle," said Taha. "They will come to face you in battle here. They shall array in great numbers, greater than any expected. But the wind shall be against them, and you will have it at your back.


    "Strike hard and fast, and your enemy shall fall."


    "Do you trust this priestess, Samrasa?" asked Munsuf at his side. "Surely not. She is a devotee of those illiterate cults as much as anyone else." Illiterate cults? Did he dare speak as such?


    "I''m not a priestess," said Taha. "I''m just someone who understands how the Priestesses of Tamar operate. I learned their techniques and saw through their lies." Not helping at all, but a good survival reflex.


    "...You are sure of this?" asked Samrasa.


    "Absolutely," said Taha. "I can feel the winds and know how they will act. I have knife tricks that require it.


    "Your enemy shall come to you."


    Samrasa nodded. "Very well, I shall make a trial of this information."


    And then Nendas entered the tent as if summoned. He found himself looking through his own eyes again. He realized Jaha had been acting independently of him. How was this possible?


    Of course, it was possible.*


    "King Samrasa, we''ve brought him," said a soldier.


    "I see," said Samrasa. "Leave us, all of you. Except you, Munrus. We ought to have this discussion sooner rather than later."


    "Ah, Nendas, you''re here," said Samrasa. "I''m told you''ve been healing the injured."


    "I was asked to by many common soldiers," said Nendas.


    "Well, we are at war, so I don''t think we need to make an issue of it," said Samrasa. "Jaha is on our side, after all. Indeed, she is perhaps the most devoted of those we worship." A blanket lie, a moment ago, he had been scorning her? Was this what Jaha saw?


    "Nephew, it has been too long," said Munsuf. His warmth was feigned and poorly disguised.


    "Yes, Uncle, it has," said Nendas. Though he wanted to say ''not long enough.''


    "I apologize for not inviting you to the funeral," said Munrus. "I did not think a personal journey would be appropriate for an Avatar-"


    "I know, Uncle," Nendas said, wondering how else Munsuf had slandered him. "I''ve come to understand and accept the reasons for what you did." And Munrus would pay dearly for them sooner or later.


    Munrus looked to Samrasa, who laughed. "...Well, then, we need not have this discussion any longer. Nendas, I want you and your companions to be first in the coming assault. You''ll go ahead, in Ralign''s company. I trust you remember our earlier discussion in the palace."


    "With great clarity, of course," said Nendas.


    "Good, then prepare and await our orders," said Samrasa. "Battle will soon be joined."


    Jaha meditated, freeing herself from Nendas'' mind and assuming her own identity for a bit. Her greater self was of little help for the moment; this was not her forte. Yet channeling herself through Nendas had caused her to take on a more calculating mind. She usually only possessed the wills of the kindest and most pure maidens. Faithful Nendas was, but he was trained for war.


    Perhaps the energies poured into Nendas should be sent elsewhere. If they entered her greater self, it could be problematic.


    Taha''s words about confronting inner darkness bothered her. Was what happened here due to Nendas being used as a lens for her power? Or was it manifesting an aspect of herself she wished to deny? There were, after a fashion, many of her.


    It was of no present consequence. Jaha resumed her role as controller.


    There was another blur that seemed unreal. Vaguely Nendas was aware of himself moving this way and that. He acted as he would normally act, but he was hardly conscious. And little by little, he felt as though he was losing himself. Was he becoming part of Jaha? Or had his actions put him so at odds with her spirit? Had he become separate from his status as the Avatar. It was unbearable, and it was all he could do to observe events from an outside perspective. He felt himself sort of drifting off, and he fought against it, feeling his connection to Jaha.


    To be the Avatar of Jaha was a great honor.


    It had always been reported that those who did so became one with her after a time. They took on more and more aspects of them. Was that what was happening to him now? Was he becoming no more than a face?


    Summoning his will, Nendas moved aside as the Kulatian army gathered beneath the hill. "Jaha...


    "I have not prayed to you in a long time. I used to pray all the time.


    "I''ve stopped recently.


    "I do not know why you chose me or what you want from me. However, your inhibitions are something I cannot afford. I will have to kill for what happens next. I ask that you do not speak to me during this battle.


    "Thank you."


    As soon as he said it, the dream was disrupted. Nendas found he was praying with his sword before him.


    "Are you done?" asked Taha, some way away.


    "Yes, as much as possible," said Nendas, drawing the sword.


    "You didn''t seem so faithful as before. I''m proud of you," said Taha.


    Nendas turned around and walked past her. "Silence.


    "Taha, stay here. I will enter the battle."


    "Sure, whatever you want," said Taha. "Samrasa doesn''t want to lose me anyway. My skills aren''t exactly common knowledge."


    Nendas said nothing and hurried to the formation with his command. Details came back to him as he ordered and assembled his men. Details of names and faces long forgotten or perhaps taken by Jaha. A sense of hostility was coming toward him, anger toward Jaha, and he now wondered if she wasn''t devouring him.


    It did not matter. The lines were assembled before one another, and the two armies stood ready. Battle would soon be joined, and Nendas knew there would be blood soon. And he realized he was standing next to Ralign in the infantry.


    "So, here we are," said Nendas.


    "Scared?" asked Ralign, but there was a tinge of humor behind it. It was not an insult.


    "No," said Nendas, remembering that Samrasa wanted him dead. Could he kill the man? "Not more than anyone else."


    With luck, Ralign would be killed in battle fairly. But then, Ralign had not been killed fairly in all this time. It did not seem he would be brought down save by treachery.


    "I am at your side, Nendas," said Rokas. "I only wish Taha could fight alongside us."


    "You wanted a woman fighting?" asked Ralign.


    "Taha''s skills are more valuable behind the lines," said Nendas. "Knife throwing wouldn''t be of much use here anyway."


    And then the horn call was sounded. And they knew the battle was to be joined.


    "Forward, to war!" said Ralign, motioning with his axe.


    And they charged. As they charged, the men of Kulat unleashed their bows. Yet the wind howled, and their arrows were scattered. Pushing against them, the armies of Tarasif surged forward like a wave and struck the enemy line. Nendas cleaved down a man with his sword before clashing his blade against a spear. He saw Ralign cleaved his way forward, laughing as the enemy closed around him. The wind howled but always behind their backs, and the enemy line was bending.


    Rokas kicked down a man before striking down another with gauntletted fists. And then there was a melee. Nendas fought on reflex, slashing and blocking as blood spattered over him. The carnage began as he fought desperately, now and then catching a glimpse of a friend.


    Nendas had no idea what battle plan was being used, if any. He heard several horn calls and saw the King''s banner distantly coming from the side. But he had no real idea of what plans were being enacted or how well. All he could do was hack and slash everyone who stood against him.


    "The battle is ours! The enemy flees before us!" said Rokas.


    Then Nendas found himself fighting sword to sword with a man clad in armor similar to Prince Suras. He was an older man, but he was a good fighter. Turning the blade, Nendas slammed a gauntlet against his helm and sent him down. Putting the blade to the old man''s throat, he halted as the fighting cleared.


    The old man gripped his sword hard.


    "Surrender," said Nendas.


    The man pulled himself up as the armies of Kulat scattered or were hunted down. Rokas came to him, and the old man glared at him. "You betray your own family, Rokas?"


    "I don''t have a family," said Rokas. "You made that very clear last time we met, Father."


    "And so you take the side of these curs?!" said Father. "Have you fallen so far?"


    "I follow Taha because she gave me food and a trade," said Rokas, repeating himself. "To her is who all my obligations lie. She joined Tarasif, and so I did. If you wished me to hold you in some obligation, you should not have been so vehement in disowning me."


    "Take his sword, Rokas," said Nendas. "You may take it as a trophy."


    Rokas did so and smiled as he did so. "Yes, Nendas."


    Nendas scanned the battlefield for Ralign. A lot of dust and dirt had been kicked up during the fighting. And the moans of the dying could be heard. "Keep him guarded. I will find Ralign."


    "Are you certain?" asked Rokas, and Nendas knew he knew.


    "We must see his fate," said Nendas. "If the King attempts to escape, try to keep him alive. Bringing him to Samrasa will be a valuable prize."


    Nendas walked away but did not look for Ralign how he wanted to. He kept running into injured people and having to heal them. Many fell unconscious on the battlefield; a few died despite his efforts. And each one he asked of Captain Ralign.


    "Help..." said a man.


    "Rest easy," said Nendas, healing him. "I will see to it that you are healed. Did you see Captain Ralign?"


    "He charged that way, but I lost sight of him when he encountered the King''s guard," said the man. "I saw him break them, and the King fled into the melee."


    "Then go to camp," said Nendas. "I''ll find him."


    Soon he wandered through the dust until, at last, he came to Ralign, just behind a hill of bodies. The man was lying wounded on the ground, a spear in his side. Nendas could heal him easily. And he remembered how the man had come to treat him more kindly. Perhaps that would continue, and Ralign could be an ally.


    "Ralign," said Nendas, kneeling by him.


    "...Help me, Nendas..." said Ralign. "Please... help me..."


    But Ralign had killed his Father, an honorable man on the same side. He had shown outward contempt for him, even after his death. Not to mention massacring the faithful of Elranor. What use was the friendship of such a man?


    "King Samrasa... he''ll... he''ll reward..." began Ralign.


    Samrasa wanted Ralign dead. Saving him would earn his ire. Ralign was hated by many, and even if he was reformed, it would be of precious little use. While killing him would get Nendas one step closer to vengeance.


    He was worth more dead than alive.


    Snatching a fallen dagger, Nendas drove it through Ralign''s throat. It sank in deep, and he stood up and stepped back. Ralign lay dead, the murder of his Father avenged. Or at least partially avenged, he now needed only deal with Uncle and Samrasa.


    All in good time.


    Nendas contemplated whether he should feel anything at this.


    Not really.


    Ralign was terrible, had wronged him many times, and would have been of precious little use. He''d been tolerable company towards the end, but not enough to justify not killing him. Nendas turned to see several men emerging from the mists. "You, come quickly! Captain Ralign is dead! We must ensure his body is treated with respect." It was the least he could do.


    What was he babbling about? He didn''t care at all.


    "What happened?" asked a man.


    "I found him with a spear through him, but it took a knife to the throat to put him down," said Nendas. "He did not deserve to die like this." Though whether his death ought to have been faster or slower, Nendas wasn''t sure. "I must find anyone else who needs aid. Ensure that no one defiles his corpse."


    Ralign was, in the end, just one more tool. But he''d been a willing tool, which meant he could be punished. But then he felt another voice arguing that killing him was still wrong. What if he had forgiven Ralign, and they had become friends and worked against Samrasa?


    Befriend the one who murdered his father? Laughable.


    Justice had demanded Ralign die. And Nendas could not have delivered justice openly. And even if Nendas had not done it, Samrasa would have. All Nendas would have done by sparing him was show Samrasa he wasn''t really loyal. In any case, Ralign would have died on his own if Nendas'' hadn''t shown up.


    All he''d done was give him a mercy killing instead of healing him.


    But, the voice noted, Nendas had put himself in a position to benefit from that death. Worse still, he had gone looking for him to deliver it. Being present gave Nendas a responsibility to act, and what he had done was kill someone he could have saved. He was a murderer.


    "Damn you, I don''t need your judgment," said Nendas flatly. "Others need your aid, and I''m the only one who can do it. So you can use me for your ends, or you can not.


    "Either way, I don''t need to justify myself to you. I''ve never had a choice in any of this anyway."


    In the end, Nendas got back and found Rokas standing with his sword at his father''s throat. Coming to a halt, Nendas nodded to him. "Rokas, you have the King?"


    "Yes," said Rokas. "Is Ralign-"


    "Ralign is dead," said Nendas. "Come, let''s take our captive to King Samrasa."


    Now the only question was if Samrasa would keep his word to Rokas or Nendas. Certainly, their group had more than upheld their end of the bargain.


    Nendas sincerely doubted it.


    But he could wait for an opportunity.*


    *This sequence seems to be narrative convenience on the part of the original author. I see no way that Nendas could have seen through Taha''s eyes at all. Barring Taha also having some connection to Jaha. Given Taha''s violent and chaotic nature, this is utterly absurd.


    It could be a local suspicion or belief system.


    *This was one of the oldest texts that Tanith translated. It might have been written during the reign of Samrasa himself.

 Chapter 114 - Eleven: The Worst People

    Of course, nothing turned out how many wanted it. Jaha saw to that. In fact, once Kulat was subdued, Samrasa seemed to all but forget his promise to Rokas. Nothing was ever made of it, nor did he say he did not intend to fulfill it. Samrasa simply moved on, and Rokas slipped through the cracks of memory. After all, he did not have much support and did not particularly want the job.


    Samrasa did not even attempt to renegotiate his return to his family and hardly spoke to him again. Though he still had young boys visit him regularly.


    Taha, for winning him the battle, was promptly forgotten. It seemed she had merely been a momentary curiosity, and Samrasa lost interest. Not with all the people praising him for being thrice-blessed by the Gods. Uncle even hinted Samrasa was her Chosen. And Samrasa had the sheer gall to accept the title, Chosen of Jaha.


    Whatever your beliefs, the idea that you were the Chosen One of the devoted deities appealed. Or at least it appealed far more than being an older man, soon to die, in a meaningless world soon to decay.


    Even if doing so was in direct contradiction to your entire ideology.


    Nendas guessed that Taha was an unwelcome reminder of the results of rejecting the gods. And Samrasa would rather live in fantasy than acknowledge the reality he''d created. Not he stopped his anti-religious speeches or stopped hurting people. He found new excuses.


    It made sense.


    After all, if there was no meaning to the universe, you had no obligation to be morally consistent. So just take what you can and give nothing back. But the ease with which Samrasa had abandoned everything troubled him most. He had done it the moment it inconvenienced him. Perhaps Samrasa had lost his faith in godlessness. When confronted by Taha, he merely realized as much.


    Neither did he fulfill his obligations to Nendas, the only one Samrasa seemed to know existed. A new mercenary named Kalif was brought in to serve the role, while Nendas was tasked with other matters. He had been defending the Dinisian Front for some time during the wars. Samrasa had never intended to honor his promise. He''d offered it to use Nendas as a pawn. And Nendas had no choice but to go along with it because he might die otherwise.


    Samrasa avoided targetting the growing worshippers of Jaha, of course. Several of Ralign''s men took matters into their own hands, and Nendas had to kill them. After several such skirmishes, Samrasa opted to have Ralign''s old troop killed. He then made some speeches lamenting that such bloodshed had happened. He wondered why Jaha would allow it. As if he thought it would make a prologue to his eventual purge.


    Old fool, he''d be lucky to last ten more years with all the wine he drank. He''d have no time to wipe out the worship of Jaha now that they were growing. And whoever succeeded him would have a different hobby.


    The interesting part was that Kalif moved on and appointed all his people to the positions. After that, persecution stopped entirely. Unless Samrasa ordered them, he spent much time with Uncle. There he engaged his depravities. He only ventured from the palace to order some statues defaced or priests executed. Once or twice he even targeted the faithful of Jaha.


    But these were infrequent events, and they were performed out of habit. It was a way of asserting that he was still King and purging the religious scourge. Undertaken less out of genuine passion or hatred and more as a way of passing the time. So long as the priests stayed out of his line of sight while he was in these moods, you were usually fine. Samrasa had gone the way of Munsuf, perhaps influenced by his protege, and drank far more than he should.


    Nendas, for his part, did his best to save those seized. A number of prison cells were found mysteriously open in the night. A system was set in place by Taha. It helped people who had been marked for death get moved into the country. She seemed to enjoy doing it and liked getting back at Samrasa. He''d committed the one sin she could find ground for hating: Betraying your beliefs.


    Eventually, however, Kalif found out about this and reported it to Samrasa. The King never found out exactly who had been responsible. But in a rage, he''d nearly ordered a purge of the areas where it was happening. As if, having torn down the gods, he now possessed the authority of those he had destroyed.


    Kalif, however, managed to talk him into executing the prison guards. Then, several priests were beheaded. And conveniently, the prison was taken over by men loyal to Kalif. After that, they had not dared take further action. While the events were never connected to them, they had become inconvenient.


    Samrasa might kill them out of spite, for, unlike the priests, Samrasa knew their names. He often cursed them when he thought no one could hear. Now and then, servants spoke of hearing him raving in private. And though he hated him beyond words, Nendas could not help but lament that so great a man had fallen so far.


    Years had passed now, and Nendas was around the point of deciding to take Samrasa''s life. Rokas'' original plan was rapidly seeming the best one. Simply murder all his enemies and leave Tarasif to decide its fate. Ordinarily, he''d never considered it, but Nendas suspected he''d be murdered soon. And it wasn''t as if leaving Samrasa alive would improve the situation; quite the opposite.


    He might one day decide to burn the city down out of spite.


    Samrasa was a liability, and he''d only stayed alive because Kalif refused to move against him. Several speeches were made about the evils of rebellion and how they would only cause civil war. So Nendas guessed that Kalif''s plan was to wait until Samrasa died. Then he''d take over afterward and be hailed as a hero.


    One could hardly begrudge him it. Nobody wanted to go back to the old days of neverending paranoia. At one point, there had been a new King every week with a battle for each one. Samrasa had ended that and reigned long, though many wished he''d died before his decline. But then, it seemed likely that Samrasa would fall soon anyway, no matter what Kalif did. His reputation was not what it once was; many important concerns were being ignored.


    And peace was no longer the siren''s call it had once been. Many people began to murmur that a good war would be preferable to humiliation.


    But, Nendas stayed his hand here too. He did what he could to ensure Kalif''s plan, or what h thought was Kalif''s plan, continued.


    He wasn''t sure why. The only thing keeping him was the prospect of getting back what Samrasa had stolen. But there was increasingly less of that. Uncle had not learned anything over the years, even after Samrasa tired of him and sent him back. He dithered and refused to lead and then would make reckless decisions so he could feel decisive. When he dithered, his holdings rotted, and when he acted, he put everyone at risk for no gain. Anyone who tried to fill Father''s shoes tended to meet the same fate.


    The letters from Sarafi came in daily, and they got worse and worse. Priceless statues that had been erected to honor victories had been sold. The money was used by Uncle to throw lavish parties and spend his time whoring. At the same time, he denied any member of the Hasafa Clan permission to take any worthy deed. Not content with his ruin, he seemed determined to ruin everything about him. Many members of the Hasafa Clan were fleeing their own homes. Others were seeking a position in the military under an alias.


    The treasury that Father had gained by shrewd action was gone¡ªwasted in less than a decade.


    Tarasif was a gilded ruin populated by serpents; its promises were broken. Its honor was shattered. And the only question was who would survive the coming bloodletting.


    Things kept going from bad to worse, and they never seemed to improve.


    It was only a matter of time before it all collapsed. Nendas could do very little to shore up the beams of a house divided at the foundation. All he could hope was that Samrasa would die so someone could patch it.


    Why wouldn''t the rotting old corpse give up the ghost and die! It would be doing everyone a huge favor and would fix most of their problems right away! He''d have worked enough after he was dead without adding more to it now!


    The only consolation was the atheists were finally as miserable as their victims. Now, if only Nendas could find a way to kill all his followers right after he died. Then his worthless ideology would be put into the grave with him.


    But for now, Nendas sped through the trees, tracking his prey. He checked his pace to ensure his companions could follow behind him. At last, he came out of the trees and onto the road. A cart had been overturned, and birds were picking at several corpses. One of them was a little girl whose throat had been cut.


    He wondered what her name had been and why she had come out here. She looked to be of Taha''s race. Was there some resemblance, or was it in his mind?


    Word of another dead merchant was unlikely to cause much trouble; this sort of thing happened. But a failure was a failure, although it wasn''t his. So he walked past the bodies without another glance and looked for more tracks.


    "Hmm, from the looks of things, our prey has been busy with a merchant caravan," said Nendas. Suddenly, Nendas felt Her in his mind, pressuring him to try and save these wretches.


    "Rokas, are any of them alive?"


    "None," said Rokas, shooing away the birds. "All have been dead for hours."


    One of the birds tried to return, only to take a dagger through the eye from Taha as she walked to the cart. "Nedas, we should see if they left any valuables here. They can''t have had time to clean this place out."


    "We are not stopping for plunder, Taha," said Nendas. "Not while we have a mission to complete."


    None of their missions were honorable anymore. Samrasa sent them to kill outlaws, but outlaws could mean anyone now. Many of them might have been perfectly good people if not for the actions of their glorious leader. Worshippers of faiths that had been cast down, trying to survive. Sometimes they were common murderers. Others were Kulatian soldiers who Samrasa had dispossessed. The territory handed out to King Samrasa''s favorites had to come from somewhere. Some were deserters from Tarasif, and many of them had organized.


    Rooting them out was miserable business.


    Nendas could hardly do anything beyond looking the other way for the innocent. But he couldn''t do that too often; Samrasa would find an excuse to kill him. Reports had come in already of entire villages being crucified for worshipping Elranor. Nendas wondered if Samrasa had turned to worship Baltoth.


    "We should see to it that these poor souls are buried," said Rokas.


    Jaha agreed, of course. Nendas felt her all-consuming sympathy pouring into him from the brand on his prow. But it no longer soothed and was kept back by bars of seething resentment. Resentment Samrasa, the world, Munsuf, and so many others. "I am well aware, Rokas.


    "We will see to their burial after we are done here."


    "Why bother?" asked Taha. Either these people were of no relation, or Taha was further gone than Nendas thought. Or, perhaps, she did not remember them either.


    "Though they are merchants, they deserve a funeral out of respect for the gods," said Rokas.


    "Do you think they care?" asked Taha. "They''ve ceased to exist. Their decaying flesh won''t mind if they get eaten by birds."


    "Other travelers may, however," said Nendas. "And a good reputation is a valuable thing to cultivate. Come, we must be quick. I have the tracks."


    Off they went.


    Nendas reflected that there had been a time when such a sight would have been horrifying. However, the corpses were nothing new. He''d seen many executions by the King''s soldiers. He''d even captured some of those responsible. After seeing them die, they preferred to kill people and bring back their heads. It was kinder that way.


    "You know what the worst part about all this is?" said Taha suddenly.


    "What is it?" asked Nendas.


    "We''re not even the main heroes of this story," said Taha with a sigh.


    "What is that supposed to mean?" asked Nendas.


    "Well, think about it," said Taha. "What exactly have we done other than follow orders?"


    "We have gone above and beyond the orders we were given," said Rokas.


    "Sure, but in all the stories, the hero is the one who drives the narrative," said Taha. "Take us out of things and what changes.


    "We''re just pawns on someone else''s game."


    "We are nothing of the sort," said Nendas, faintly offended. "I have been fully aware of Samrasa''s transparent machinations. And all of you were as well.


    "We chose to play along with them because to do otherwise would get us murdered.


    "And I have taken steps to avenge my Father."


    "Yeah, but only because Samrasa threw you a bone," said Taha. "And it''s not like you could have chosen not to kill him. If he''d come back alive, Samrasa would have gone after you next.


    "I mean, Rokas and I haven''t changed anything."


    "We were instrumental in conquering Kulat," noted Rokas.


    "Yes, but Kulat is getting less stable by the day," said Taha. "They see what''s happening here. The King will stage a rebellion as soon as he senses weakness. The Hasafa Clan has been run into the ground. And Samrasa has alienated the centers of faith; we''ll see a civil war.


    "Samrasa is getting on in years, and he has no son. With the religious institutions, there would be a way to anoint someone king. So we''re going to have a civil war between all his generals. Kalif will take over Tarasif; the Hasafa''s will take a different side. Kulat will then break free.


    "And whoever unites Tarasif will go back to trying to conquer Kulat.


    "We could have lost that battle, and it would not have mattered. And if your actions don''t matter in the narrative, can you call it your story?"


    "Well then, whose story is it?" asked Nendas, trying not to let his irritability show.


    Taha was silent. "Samrasa.


    "We''ve come in at the end of a tragedy where the once heroic. Samrasa succumbs to his fatal flaws and is destroyed. He was a great man if not a good one, but his flaws led to his utter destruction. Maybe we''ll kill him, but we''ll just be the executioner who comes in in the third act.


    "None of us are going to live long enough to have a place in history at this rate."


    "What bothers me is that no one at all benefitted from our actions," said Rokas. "We served Samrasa and the Hasafa Clan and Tarasif well. Each of us fought with everything we were to advance our goals. Men died around us, and we were promised things at the end.


    "But none of those promises were kept.


    "Samrasa threw us aside without a second thought.


    "I do not even mind, in my case. I never wanted to be a King, and I do not think I would be a good one. But by all accounts, Samrasa and Munsuf are worse off for our actions than better. This despite their plans going perfectly."


    "I don''t care," said Nendas. "There''s nothing worth living for in this life anyway. With any luck, Laevian will send a plague that will kill us all."


    "Don''t you want to kill Samrasa?" asked Taha.


    "I can''t think of any worse fate Samrasa could have than to live to be a hundred," said Nendas. "He doesn''t deserve to be assassinated or killed in battle. Let him rot."


    "Well, what about your uncle," said Taha. "He''s done very well out of all this.


    "With Vandias gone, he''s free to live a life of absolute luxury. All without any responsibilities. He doesn''t care about clan or Tarasif, so he''s getting what he wants. Samrasa has to keep in place because he''s afraid of a vengeful Hasafa Clan led by you."


    Nendas sighed. "My uncle... by now, he''s done all the damage he can.


    "No one in the clan listens to anything he says. Many have abandoned him, and now he''s fled to Tarasif for fear of their knives. My own family has conspired to murder their patriarch, and it is an unforgivable crime. Not that Samrasa had done anything beyond giving him a place to stay.


    "I think he plans to try and placate the Hasafa somehow, perhaps by appointing someone more competent. We''re too weak to stand against him now. Uncle will likely get a comfortable retirement, pass on his title and get off scot-free. Samrasa can''t behead his most loyal ally. It would set a poor precedent.


    "If he were going to execute him, he would have done it by now."


    "Are you saying the Munsuf is the smartest person here?" asked Rokas. And his voice said it was absolutely ludicrous.


    "No," said Nendas. "I don''t know. Yes.


    "By all accounts, he has gotten everything he wanted. He avoided all misery and hardship and is now well on his way to escaping without consequences. And he hasn''t anything he valued."


    "Is a life without hardship and consequences worth living?" asked Rokas. "And isn''t valuing nothing at all worse than valuing something for a time and losing it?"


    "...I say we find Munsuf, torture him to the death, and feed him to the dogs," said Taha, spinning a knife. "Show him how loyal a beaten dog is."


    "That isn''t what I want," admitted Nendas. "Though I may do it anyway as consolation for my injuries. One ill turn deserves another, after all." A few years ago, he''d never have considered killing his Uncle. It would have been sacrilege of the highest order.


    Not the idea appealed.


    It was wrong, and Nendas did not like what he was becoming.


    "Then what do you want?" asked Taha.


    "I want what I was promised," said Nendas. "If I were allowed to leave my position as Avatar of Jaha I could fix the shambles Munsuf has made of my clan. Or at least reduce the damage."


    "So what did the guys we''re hunting do anyway, Nendas?" asked Taha.


    "Does it matter?" asked Nendas. "Our orders are to kill all of them."


    "I dunno; I''d like to know why this particular religious sect is getting wiped out," said Taha. "I know they''re bandits; usually, religious warriors became bandits after a purge. Gotta make a living."


    "They are worshippers of Elranor if you must know," said Nendas. Taha was more interested in religion than she let on. She often knew about the rites of various societies, which had proven useful in hunting them. "He has become a common patron deity for exiles. Though I expect all gods will be patrons of exiles soon enough."


    "What do you mean?" asked Rokas.


    "King Samrasa''s goal is the complete removal of all religion," said Nendas. "Once that is done, all other gods will, at best, be dismissed as faces of a single entity: him or his ideals or something. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "That entity being a torch passed from one generation to another as sacred."


    "Why a torch anyway?" asked Taha.


    "A torch cannot have an opinion, Taha," said Nendas. "If you want to do something ruthless, there are no laws or codes a flame can give you. And pretending the flames are magic provides a defense against nihilism. And since it must be maintained by community spirit, it encourages people to be active."


    "It is a flexible belief system, I admit, Nendas," said Rokas. "But such a force would need an ultimate source."


    "You''re overthinking things, Rokas," said Nendas. "The point of the torch is not truth. It is to hide the truth. Half the population will take comfort in the flame. They won''t give in to despair and throw themselves off bridges. Meanwhile, the upper classes can remain happily hedonistic. And they praise themselves for giving the sheep hope.


    "It keeps society functioning and provides a basis by which to attack the Gods. Thus providing a purpose for society to strive for. That being the destruction of all undesirable thoughts and supernatural realities."


    "But what if it succeeds?" asked Rokas. "How would such a society function?"


    "What does Samrasa care?" asked Taha. "He''ll be dead long before that happens, and he''s still getting his five square meals. The whole thing is an elaborate performance. This is all meant to distract people from how they are getting robbed.


    "None of Samrasa''s officials believe their ideology. They just pretend to so they can get into the inner circle and steal as much as possible. Maybe they''ve fooled themselves into thinking they buy into it. But the second Samrasa keels over, they''ll prostrate themselves to Kalif. And he''s already making deals with the priests."


    "Well, they''re welcome to it," said Rokas in disgust. "If wealth and fat are all that they love, then that is what they deserve."


    Silence as they walked.


    "What is it like, having a god within you? You have never spoken of it?" asked Rokas.


    They were unusually curious, weren''t they?


    Then again, they had been working more closely together these past few months. Since the wars died down, the endless bloodshed had become more personalized. Instead of killing enemy soldiers, they killed traitors.


    "Violent," said Nendas.


    "Violent? She''s a Goddess of Peace," said Taha. "I mean, not as if I believe in her or anything."


    "I see everything while she is within me," said Nendas. "I know the nature of everything I see. So I see the violence before it even happens.


    "I do not understand how you can remain a staunch atheist, Taha. You joined the Cult of Tamar and became in the mysteries. How did you fake it that well? And how did you manage to not believe in her at all?


    "Surely, you must have seen some miracles. You''ve seen many done by me." He''d never been able to break her out of this. Nendas wasn''t even sure why he was asking.


    "Oh, please," said Taha. "I was a war orphan, and I needed a meal. It seemed like an easy way to learn knife-throwing and acrobatics. As soon as I''d taken what I needed from them, I walked." That story was completely different from the one she''d told Nendas before. She''d told her story many times, going over different parts, which shifted with the telling.


    In the end, Taha was just empty. Her life before she met them was just a meaningless fairy tale; she could tell however she wanted. "As for the miracles, it''s all about knowing when the wind will blow. You figure out what is going to happen and make some speeches. Then the wind happens, and you look like you called it down.


    "It''s all about tricks and timing. You''d be pretty good at it if you dropped the worship of Jaha."


    "Oh yes, because getting rid of religion has worked out so well for Tarasif," said Nendas.


    "...Good point," said Taha. "They uh... really should have come up with an alternative system to divine right. The contradictions have screwed everything up."


    "How did you manage to get made a priestess," asked Rokas.


    "Most religions will make you their high priest if you pretend to believe what they say," said Taha with a shrug. "The trick is not letting yourself act on what the religion demands. Once you start doing things, everyone wants you dead. You say the right things to the right people, get into the circles, and forget about those you abandon.


    "Make yourself useful, don''t present a threat to your boss, and you''re set.


    "I got as high as I could, but I wasn''t satisfied with being a handmaiden to some Goddess I never saw and didn''t exist. So I walked out before the day of the ceremony."


    "Taha," said Rokas. "I am concerned for you. This flippant view you have of the Gods is to your peril. At one time, I thought it was a mere quirk, but this nihilism is dangerous. You do not seem to know who you are or where you came from.


    "And now that I have seen the same principles at work in Tarasif, I fear it could consume you."


    "I can''t change whether or not the gods exist," said Taha. "I just lack belief in them. If Tamar wants to look me up and drag me back to her domain as a prisoner, she''s welcome to try. I''ve learned a few tricks to the knife-throwing techniques she teaches. I''ll bet I could teach her a trick or two."


    At that moment, the wind howled. Taha was nearly thrown off her feet. Nendas set a hand on a tree and forced himself to stand. Rokas set his back to a tree as the winds surge through them. Nendas saw Taha falling backward and surged forward to catch her.


    The wind stopped.


    As they halted, Nendas looked around and saw a fox. It was standing upon a stone and looking at them. Rokas gazed at it, concern on his face. "A fox.


    "Why''d it cross our path?


    "We should not speak any further," said Nendas. "We''re nearing our quarry."


    The tracks led them up into the highlands. Nendas wondered if Taha had called down some divine retribution as they walked. Tempting the gods was generally a bad idea, so Nendas wondered if he should-


    His brand pulsed, and Nendas'' thoughts turned away from Taha. Taha would be fine.


    Instead, he focused on getting to the enemy. Sending forth his thoughts, he used the power of Jaha to sense his enemy. They were near.


    Nendas sensed their hatred,


    The three of them were making a stand. He set a hand to his sword and looked to his comrades. "Our enemy is near."


    "Then let us meet them fairly in battle," said Rokas.


    The three emerged into a clearing by a gorge leading down to a river. Three men, clad raggedly and armed, were standing before them. "So, you are warriors who have been sent to track us, then.


    "Even if we fall, Elranor shall live on. His power shall see the-"


    "We don''t care," said Taha, hurling a dagger through his eye.


    Nendas and Rokas sprang forward, and his sword clashed with that of another enemy. Parrying and thrusting, he quickly found that his enemy was skilled but slow. Driving him toward the gorge, he stepped back to avoid a thrust, then knocked the sword from the man''s hand. Bringing up his sword, he drove it through his throat.


    Dragging it out, he stepped back quickly to avoid the blood. Turning to see Rokas fighting, he saw he and his man were grappling. Rokas was gradually overwhelming him, however. With a shrug, Nendas mentioned to Taha, who hurled a dagger into his back. As the corpse fell, Nendas came to where the first enemy was screaming. The blade was in his eye but hadn''t pierced deep enough, and he was screaming.


    Raising his sword, Nendas stabbed it through the man''s neck.


    "Sloppy, Taha," said Nendas with a sigh. "We both know you didn''t miss. Go for the throat, not the eye. These bandits had to be stopped, but it should be done cleanly and humanely."


    "Sorry," said Taha. "I wanted to see if I could make the shot."


    She was lying; she''d made that shot before, but it didn''t make any difference.


    Nendas shrugged, then raised his sword and plunged it through the man''s chest. However, the sword must have missed the heart because he didn''t die. Drawing it out, Nendas stabbed him again in irritation. Finally, when that didn''t work, Nendas fell to one knee and hacked off his head.


    Nendas remembered a time when all this would have horrified him.


    "Well, that''s done," said Taha. "Now, let''s see if they have anything worth stealing."


    "Indeed," said Rokas. "These foul renegades shall rob no one else!"


    "Less posturing, more looting," said Taha, searching through pockets. "Hey, this one had a silver necklace."


    "Likely stolen from the merchants," said Nendas.


    "Nah, those guys were easterners from Tartan; it''s a city-state just north of Spirta, one of their allies. I grew up there," said Taha, stripping off their clothes.


    "Wait, you''re an Amazon?" asked Nendas. She did not seem to have the build; he''d seen a few journeying here.


    "No," said Taha. "Not every woman in Themious is an Amazon. See, they''ve had trade routes for years. And the Amazon race bears more males than females, so there tends to be a lot of overlap. My family was part of the territory seized from Kulat in a war a few generations back.


    "So we don''t have any Amazonian blood. And even if we did, not every girl born to an Amazon is one. Zeya''s blessings are limited, I think."


    "You were ruled by Spirtana?" asked Rokas.


    "No, Tartan isn''t fond of the Spirtana; they just appreciate them as very dangerous," said Taha. "Their prowess in battle is legendary, even among the Amazons. And also, their word is their bond.


    "I can''t attest to either. I know Spirtana are very brave when murdering defenseless slaves, though. It''s a rite of passage for them. Each one is expected to have a male slave who accompanies them in everything.


    "To become a real woman, they have to murder him to demonstrate how strong and independent they are.


    "They also have a penchant for murdering men in general. Traditionally, their first male child is sacrificed on an altar to Zigildrazia. Believe me, we were lucky to get seized by Tartan; they were a bit civilized and let us run our affairs. Their Queen had several male children and smothered each on to death herself before they came of age.


    "She''s very fond of male children until they grow up.


    "Hey, help me strip them. Some of these clothes could be sold for a decent amount if we cleaned them up a bit."


    "Must you focus entirely on riches?" asked Rokas. "Surely our mission is of greater importance."


    "Yeah, but if we hack off their heads first, the clothes will be even more bloody," said Taha. "Now come on, we''ve got looting to do."


    Taha had a very meticulous means of looking. She had a talent for weighing the value of what they found on the corpses. When they were finished, they cut off the heads and hurled them into the bodies into the river. With that done, they backtracked.


    "Nendas, catch!" said Taha.


    Nendas reached up, caught a necklace as it arrived, and looked at it in disdain.


    "It''s really valuable," said Taha. "You want it?"


    "I can''t legally own property," said Nendas. "As I have told you many times. At least, beyond what is necessary for my trade."


    "Yeah, great," said Taha. "She''s the Goddess of Peace, and you''re a professional murderer.


    "Who''s going to care if you take a silver necklace as a gift."


    "A silver necklace cannot be justified to a crowd," said Nendas. "To justify becoming a warrior, I made up a philosophy about gender roles. There had never been a male Avatar of Jaha before, and people liked the idea of a warrior monk. So I escaped my limits.


    "So I got away with... questionable actions for the greater good. If I start wearing a necklace, how do I justify that?"


    "You could always say Jaha is a has-been, and no one cares what she thinks," noted Taha.


    "Her religion is growing," said Nendas.


    "But it''s not the same faith the Hasafa have," noted Taha. "It''s militant, a fighting god. Nothing like the feeble pacifist doormat you''re saying prayers to. You remember when that mob tried to burn a meeting place down?


    "All of the worshippers were former soldiers. They killed hundreds of the rioters before we dispersed them."


    "That was a good day," noted Nendas. "Samrasa lost a lot of supporters. And a lot of atheists died."


    "Frankly, Nendas," said Taha. "I find your attitude insensitive."


    "You''re not dead, Taha," said Nendas. "And seeing as you don''t believe in anything, I don''t think you have a right to stand on principle."


    "Good point," said Taha. "I guess I sort regard myself as a god if you''re really technically. We should murder all the atheists after Samrasa dies.


    "Their religion is more trouble than it''s worth. And it might be fun to give them a taste of their own medicine. I''ve got some really good ideas for executions we could try. It could be fun to go into that business.


    "Switch from murderer to torturer, you know."


    "You can take it up with Kalif if we''re still alive after he takes power," said Nendas. "I don''t have any power for that kind of thing, even if I wanted it."


    "Don''t you think that you should..." Rokas paused. "Well, try to get back your power. If becoming head of the Hasafa Clan is so important to you."


    "And how do you suggest I do that?" asked Nendas.


    "...perhaps you should seek out King Samrasa," said Rokas. "And get him to release you. It may be that the Gods shall move him to be reasonable."


    Nendas nodded and reflected it was a good idea. It was also a smart move by Samrasa, since it would cement Nendas'' loyalty. "Let''s discuss that later."


    As they made their return journey, Nendas found their path drawing off. He was not certain whether his will did it, or the will of another, or simple chance. However, whoever it was, they deviated from their road at some point and soon came within sight of a clearing. It stood between a roadside and a hill, and there was a spring.


    And in the center, Uncle was meditating. Or attempting to, at any rate, he was no good at it. He was, by now, even fatter than he had been in the tent. With him were a large number of armed guards, perhaps a dozen. They were mercenaries, some assigned by Kalif since Hasafa could not be trusted. And Nendas knew his chance was here.


    "Lord Munsuf, are you certain you should be out all this way?" asked a guard.


    "I need to escape from the city," said Munsuf. These surroundings are far preferable to it. I keep... remembering things."


    "Still, it is a danger," said the guard.


    "Danger is everywhere," said Uncle. "Samrasa has gone mad, and he won''t even let me in to see him! My own family is now after me through no fault of my own! At least here, the commoners aren''t reeking up the place.


    "I can focus here. I must find a way to get control. Samrasa has promised to restore my control, but he hasn''t acted."


    It was a concept Nendas could relate to. And it made him hate Lord Munsuf all the more.


    "Nendas..." said Rokas. "Perhaps it would be wise to let this pass."


    "Not this time," said Nendas. "This time, there is no mercy."


    Drawing his sword, Nendas stepped out openly into the clearing, and the guards looked up. Yet Munsuf was paying him no heed, pacing before a serene waterfall that brought no peace. Fish were swimming in and out of the rocks, but they had no serenity. The rose bushes were dying and overgrown. "...I must find a way to restore my finances. I''ve been wasteful so far.


    "In time, perhaps, we can salvage the situation. Many of my clan have won glory in the military. If we have another war, we can get riches and-"


    "The time for such words was long ago, Munsuf," said Nendas. He wondered if Munsuf felt any genuine regret. Probably not.


    Munsuf did not regret that he murdered his brother and ruined his clan, or he would have contacted Nendas. He regretted that he was suffering consequences for his actions. If nothing had gone wrong for him, Munsuf would have been happy to keep whoring.


    "Nendas?" asked Munsuf, stepping back.


    Nendas looked to the guards, who drew their swords. Yet, there was fear in their eyes. He''d gained a reputation for ruthlessness. "You have done nothing to me personally. Leave us; I will speak with my uncle."


    The guards shuddered at his words, but they stood their ground. Admirable, but it was going to get them killed. Munsuf halted. "Nephew.


    "What is the meaning of this?"


    Nendas looked at him in shock at his audacity. "You killed my Father, your brother who was completely loyal to you. You bankrupted our family and shamed our honor. You cowered away from war, and when you joined, at last, persecuted me. You disgraced Jaha by attempting to use her as a pawn in your political games. You had prostrated the Hasafa before Samrasa, who before was equal. You embraced a decadent lifestyle that has consumed us.


    "You engage in depravity! Even as you, you allow men to be crucified on suspicion for your crimes! AND YOU RUINED MY LIFE!!


    "What do you think the meaning of this is, Munsuf?!"


    Munsuf cringed back. "My daughter... she... she''s here in Tarasif, without me-"


    Daughter? Munsuf had had a daughter, a girl Nendas had known. But her memory was fading, and her face did not come to mind. What was the name of his Father or the servants? Had it not seemed important? Sarafi was her name, wasn''t it?


    Everything had blurred. "I don''t even remember her name right now."


    Perhaps it had been driven from his mind, or perhaps he was simply past caring about anything.


    "She has read about you! She''s asked!" said Munsuf, grasping to save himself. "Don''t you remember the times when we were a family? Please, for the sake of..."


    "Lord Munsuf, what are you doing? There are only three of them," said a guard.


    "Idiot, it''s not just Nendas there," said Munsuf. "Queen Jaha, please. You have long been the Hasafa''s patron; I beg you to stop my nephew. Events have driven him to this, and, for the sake of the faithful, please stop him."


    And then Nendas knew who had been directing her. The spirit which had slowly been taking hold of who he was from within came to the front. Taha and Rokas stepped back as light radiated from somewhere, and Nendas realized it was from him. A divine process he could not comprehend went through him as he felt an all-loving warmth within him.


    It was tempting to fall into it, even as the darker aspects of his spirit were appropriated at last. But he held on and heard his voice speaking with an echo. "I do not remember your faith, Munsuf.


    "I''ve sought to find it, to fuel and raise it from your spirit, but your soul is nothing. I blew the embers for years, and when they cooled, I placed more fuel. But there is no flame left to raise.


    "I inhabited your wife, among the most beautiful women in the world, but you never valued her save as a luxury item. Even her intelligence and ability were but an irritation, for it reminded you of your own failings. For you did not want to better yourself.


    "I raised a great flame from your brother, hoping that his light might aid you. Yet you quenched him for the sake of jealous spite. You set him up to be murdered in the street for the sake of your lover, Samrasa.


    "Your daughter was granted talent and power and would have made for a great avatar. Yet your influence turned her against me. I made allowances and allowed Nendas to become my vessel. From there, you sought to destroy him."


    "I didn''t..." Munsuf fell to his knees. "Jaha I..."


    "No more excuses," said Jaha. "I have tried to foster faith, but your heart is dead to all but selfish fear and hedonistic lust. And you have spread your nature across the world. You and your accomplice Samrasa have corrupted the heart of Tarasif. Misery and death have consumed the lands while you wallow in gilded filth.


    "I never knew you, Munsuf.


    "I know nothing but a young boy forced to murder one he might have called a friend because he feared death. And he knew his uncle would not help him against Samrasa.


    "Once my mercy bade me labor endlessly for peace. I have sought to create harmony.


    "But now I seek justice for those you have wronged. AND THEY SHALL HAVE IT!!"


    And then something happened.


    The guards screamed in horror, and Munsuf screamed loudest. A vast pit opened up in the earth, and hooks with chains lashed out. They sank into Munsuf''s body, tearing his flesh and burning him as he howled in terror. This was too much for the guards, who broke and fled as great hounds emerged from the ground.


    Their teeth sank into Munsuf''s flesh, tearing great chunks from his body. Blood spewed into the pool but vanished almost at once. And yet, he continued to scream as he was dragged down into a chasm of fire. And when one looked at it, there seemed no end. It descended further into horror after horror, with no respite.


    With a final howl, Munsuf was pulled down with an incoherent scream for mercy before the crack shut tight. Birds resumed chirping. Wind blew again, and all sign of his presence was gone with his damnation.


    Nendas wasn''t exactly sure what, but he heard the screams of agony from Munsuf. A wail of unfathomable terror and fear as a red light opened from beneath. Munsuf''s guards fled in every direction, crying for mercy. Munsuf himself was drawn into the cold earth with a scream.


    And then he was gone.


    Nendas stood before a serene waterfall, looking at his own reflection. But he saw little of himself in the reflection now. More and more of him was Jaha with each day. And he wondered if the death of Munsuf meant the end of that.


    "...Taha, you''re out of excuses. Jaha just dragged Munsuf down to hell," said Rokas.


    "Earthquake and mass hallucination," said Taha. "The superstitions of the guards probably scared them off. And the ground is not disturbed at all because-"


    "Shut up," said Rokas.


    "Right, sure," said Taha.


    Nendas smiled at the untold horrors Munsuf was going through right now. Taha stepped back, a bit disturbed, and Rokas stared.


    It was an ending. But it did not end.


    Now for the rest.

 Chapter 115 - Twelve: Not so Imaginary

    Taha hadn''t made love to Nendas in a while.


    She''d always enjoyed it, even if he was always very stiff in it all. The feel of him beneath her made her feel like he was an extension of herself. But that was when they''d been around fifteen.


    Now they were seventeen, and Nendas had been growing distant.


    Taha had no illusions of marrying him; she hoped he''d marry some compliant doormat. One who wouldn''t stand between them at all. Marriage was just a contract to get another person''s money anyway.


    But that was neither here nor there.


    This silence was deafening.


    "At last," said Rokas. "Tarasif. No doubt our noble king shall be pleased with our success." He almost kept the sarcasm out of his tone.


    "What world do you live in?" asked Taha with a laugh. "We''ll be lucky if he acknowledges what we did. Wait, was that sarcasm?"


    "I do not know what you are talking about," said Rokas with a grin.


    Rokas had a way of coping with what they did.


    He''d never quite fit into the professional murderer lifestyle. But he had been thrust into it to make a living. When King Samrasa had run out of people to kill outside his borders, he turned to his people. Sure, there were some excuses. This god practiced child sacrifice, and one wore the wrong clothes.


    But in the end, it was all about control.


    Samrasa could have just as easily been targeting people for wearing a certain hat. It would not have mattered so long as the thing helped him get rich and feel like a visionary.


    "We should not speak of things just yet," said Nendas. "Remember-"


    "Don''t boast about our accomplishments," said Taha. "It draws a bad eye. I know."


    All of them had different ways of handling being professional murderers.


    Rokas chose to see only the good and dwell in a fantasy world. He came out of it just enough to reign Nendas in and did his work. Nendas, on the other hand, focused largely on getting what he wanted out of life. He avoided stupid decisions that could mess with what he wanted. And he took what he wanted when he could.*


    Taha, meanwhile, had a different approach.


    Taha didn''t care at all. She enjoyed being on the road and fully expected she''d die in battle in a ditch somewhere. She''d had a chance to retire in peace and had left it behind and gladly at that. She wanted to be with Nendas and never have to work menial labor again. Her days of cleaning and doing odd jobs were a hated memory.


    Tarasif stood before them now, and the ancient stone gates were like the entrance to a tomb. The structures were like great beehives, each of a different size. Taha had come to this place from some land far away. The name escaped her, and she was never going back. Why would she? No one had been allowed to drink alcohol, and her parents frowned on her killing people. To say nothing of ditching Tamar after she outlived her usefulness.


    Not that Tamar existed, of course. Taha just found it easier to think of the church dedicated to Tamar as Tamar. The names of those who had trained her have long-forgotten memories. Her fellow initiates had never been anything but competition.


    Taha lived to do what she was best at.


    "Hmm, so they''ve decided to repurpose some of the temples after all," said Nendas. He was looking up at one of the older temples. Some priests were being herded out in chains. Once, they''d been very important. "Good, the stonework was excellent, and destroying it would be unfortunate."


    "I cannot see King Samrasa destroying so ancient a structure," said Rokas, not looking at the chains.


    "Perhaps," said Nendas. "But some of his followers are less respectful of the past."


    "Yeah, I..." Taha paused. Suddenly she felt something and thought it was a cold hand on her face, but it was the wind. "I''m going to get a drink, I think."


    "Why?" asked Nendas. "You usually ask us to go with you."


    "I need the alcohol," said Taha. "And I need to think. Besides, you never say yes anyway."


    "I may join you later at the usual place," said Rokas.


    Taha turned and walked away, hands in her pockets. As she did, she looked upwards toward the sky above. The night was falling, and the stars were coming out in force. The moon above her was invisible in the darkness, covered by clouds. Tamar was said to manifest her power strongest the more the moon was visible.


    Oddly enough, Taha''s feet carried her to a place she didn''t usually go. Getting a drink at the tavern, Taha almost drank. But she hesitated, feeling as though she was waiting for something.


    And then came in through the door.


    The girl Taha saw was her age and, put, absolutely gorgeous. She had these long, flawless legs that her clothes clung to, and the knives at her belt were amazing. Seriously, those things were of unworldly craftsmanship. You could throw them straight through fully steel armor and still kill your man.


    Hmm, hadn''t Taha been looking over the rest of her? Eh, the knives were much more interesting than the woman''s body, anyway. Although it was a very nice body, Taha wondered why she was there. And why she was carrying a fan.


    To her surprise, the other girl moved right up to her. "You called Taha?"


    "I''m sorry, what?" said Taha. She''d never seen this woman before in her life.


    What disturbed her was that the girl was looking up Taha much the way Taha had been her. She was used to being the most outgoing person in a conversation and felt somewhat naked. Her eyes, were bright blue and only stood out all the more by her hair.


    "You''ve certainly changed a lot since you joined up with me from your village," said the girl. "I can tell you''ve increased your skills a great deal, and from the looks of things, you''ve killed people. A lot of people, actually.


    "Though I guess you''d have to make a living somehow."


    Okay, this had gone from strange to surreal. And why were other people in the bar visibly leaving? The bartender went into the back room. "I''m sorry, what? I... have we met."


    "Yes, obviously we''ve met," said the girl. "Where have you been? Why haven''t we talked in five years?"


    Taha thought this was a very strange way to ensnare someone. She finished her drink in one gulp. "I have no idea who you are."


    "A joke," said the girl. "Ah, very funny. Drop the act. I want to know where you have been and what my techniques are being used for?"


    Okay, so... some sort of zealot. "...What, are you part of the Cult of Tamar?" S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Did you take a hit to the head when I wasn''t looking? The answer is obvious," said the girl.


    "Okay, is this some really weird form of interrogation?" asked Taha. "Some sort of loyalty test?


    Because if the king wants to disappear me-"


    "In a manner of speaking," said the girl. "Then again, I''d say you were the one who tested me first. You did call me down here. Well, first, you scoffed at my ability to intervene, then you said I was welcome to show up. So, here I am."


    Taha stared at her, not finding this funny. "...You''re claiming to be Tamar."


    "No, really?" asked Tamar sarcastically.


    "...No," said Taha with a laugh. "I left the cult years ago. I did good work there. I don''t owe you anything."


    "I never said you did," said Tamara. "You do have a relationship with me, though, and you''ve got obligations to fulfill. Why didn''t you ever try to keep in touch with me?"


    Taha decided that the possibility of sleeping with her was not worth the headache. So she stood up. "...You''re a lunatic.


    "You are not a Goddess." And she walked toward the door. The latch did not turn.


    "How do you know I''m not a Goddess?" asked Tamar.


    Taha looked up. "Please, if you were Tamar, you''d have power over winds and-"


    A vast gust of wind howled throughout the city street outside. The window shutters were flung open, and air howled around them. Taha went for a knife and found she couldn''t quite get it out of its sheathe.


    "I''m sorry, I can''t hear you over the wind howling in our ears," said Tamar with a sly smile.


    Taha paused. "...Coincidence. You used the cloud patterns to predict that wind and timed our conversation, so it happened then. I''ve done something like it."


    "Have you?" asked Tamar. "You mean when you suggested Samrasa engage the enemy since you saw clouds coming. You knew the wind would be at your back, hurting their arrows and speeding your charge.


    "Which is all very impressive.


    "Still, I''m not sure it''s quite in the league of what you suggest."


    "Well, all you''d have to do is time it for when I was in this place with the right weather patterns and..." Taha hesitated.


    "Predict the exact moment a gale would blow in and steer your conversation to it?" asked Tamar. "I mean, I did do that. These winds were on their way here weeks ago. But I''m not sure how being able to do that disproves me being a god."


    "...You could have been among the other priestesses," said Taha. "You''d need to do a lot of research, but... You''re some kind of stalker, aren''t you? You''ve been following me around-"


    "I was among the priestesses!" said Tamar, sounding offended. "I was the person they were dedicating themselves to!"


    "No, you weren''t. Gods don''t exist," said Taha. "It''s just a get-rich-quick scheme. A means of making sure the poor don''t murder the rich and take their material possessions."


    "Get rich quick, scheme?" asked Tamar. "What about all the knife techniques I taught you? Or the hooks and rabid dogs that tore up Munsuf? That was a personal touch I added for you.


    "Though he was only waiting for damnation by this point. You can''t let mortals get away with that thing, or it sets a precedent."


    "I''ve made a pretty good living off them," said Taha. "And being able to kill people is very useful for keeping your power intact."


    Tamar sighed. "...This is getting us nowhere. I could summon down a host of demons, and you''d explain it away as a hallucination. So let''s do things your way.


    "I''ll tell you what. I''ll challenge you to a fight. If you can defeat me, I''ll leave you alone. But if I win, you must start listening to what I say."


    "Sure, whatever you want," said Taha. "This has wasted enough of my time as it is."


    "Well then. Let''s step outside," said Tamar.


    And they did. Taha needed to figure out how they ended up in a clearing overlooking the city. The stars were illuminating them. Tamar, however, was spinning her fan and shedding her knives. In a moment, the one fan became two that she held. "For this match, you can use any means you want. No restrictions at all."


    "Fine then," said Taha, sick of this.


    Drawing a knife, she hurled it straight at Tamar''s throat. Boring and practical, it sailed with perfect accuracy and-


    A sudden gust of wind saw it veer off to plunge into a tree.


    "...Hmm, you went straight for the throat. Very bold," said Tamar. "I guess you missed, though. But I''m sure that was just a fluke. Try again."


    Taha felt no wind. Moving in a circle, she hurled three knives at Tamar''s head, hand, and heart. However, even as she did, the wind kicked in and spun them around over Tamar. Suddenly they launched toward Taha, and she narrowly dodged. The blades to were driven down suddenly to plunge into the ground.


    "Hmm, those are some strange wind patterns, aren''t they? Want to try again?" asked Tamar.


    Taha stayed calm.


    It was obvious some magic was at work here, so that misdirection would be necessary. Hurling a dagger at Tamar as a diversion, Taha then went on to her real attack. She threw another at a slow pace. Then she threw a second after it, knocking it in midair. As a result, the second blade spun toward Tamar, who was busy knocking aside the diversion-


    And then Tamar was gone.


    Leaping high into the air, she surged through it and landed behind Taha. Taha whirled around and saw Tamar''s face inches from her own. Taha tried to move, but looking into those eyes froze her muscles solid.


    "Huh, and here I thought you were going to show me a trick or two," said Tamar, licking Taha''s lips and showing fangs. "But the only thing you''ve used are the most mundane moves I teach most people. The ones are practical for combat. Fine, let''s add some excitement." She raised her fans, and the surface became reflective. A sliver of moon was reflected down on them. "I''ll give you until the moon is full to impress me."


    Then she leaped away.


    Ranged combat was going to be useless here. So Taha drew a dagger and just rushed at her. Even as she did, however, the winds kicked up to immense degrees, pushing her back. The closer she got to Tamar, the stronger the pressure became until she was thrown back. Spinning backward, Taha found another wind catch her underneath and slow her fall.


    "Still nothing, huh?" asked Tamar. The moon was now a half-moon.


    "What do you expect?!" said Taha. "There... there''s a hurricane going on around us. How am I supposed to throw daggers in this kind of wind."


    "And who do you think summoned the hurricane, Taha?" asked Tamar. "Who controls the air those daggers you throw go through?


    "I said any means.


    "You''re the master knife thrower who thinks she can beat me at my own tricks. Prove it."


    Taha was starting to think Tamar was not an ordinary crazy person. "I...


    "You can''t be..."


    She couldn''t be Tamar, could she?


    "Been a while, hasn''t it?" asked Tamar. "Glad it''s finally sinking in. I don''t remember you being this slow, though. I guess working as a hired killer hasn''t been good for your sense of faith.


    "You really should do something about all that blood on your hands. It takes away from your appeal. I liked you as a cheerful innocent; I relished the idea of tearing that innocence up. Though this new look has some nice qualities too."


    "Who..." Taha gasped. "What is this? Who are you?" And when the hell had she ever been a cheerful innocent?


    "Oh, come on! We''ve been over this!" said Tamar. "After you built your entire career on my blessings, the least you could do is remember me. The moon is nearly full, by the way."


    "Blessings?" asked Taha. "What are you talking about? I didn''t learn knife throwing from you. My teachers were older than me..."


    "...Have you been hit on the head recently? I''ve told you who I am. Several times now," said Tamar.


    "You..." Taha shifted. "You can''t be Tamar the Wind Goddess!"


    "Why not? I control the winds," said Tamar.


    "Because gods aren''t real!" said Taha,


    Tamar sighed. "Did you not pay attention to what I just did to you?


    "I''m not happy, Taha. I gave you all those abilities and favorable winds for them, and you''ve given me... hmm, let''s see... no sacrifices at altars. No letters. You''ve never tried to get in touch since leaving the cult.


    "What, did you think you stopped being mine because you weren''t going to the temples?"


    "You aren''t Tamar!" said Taha. "You somehow predicted that those winds would be here now and used them to..." No, that was nearly as absurd as Tamar being a god. "You can''t be real."


    And then Tamar was in front of her, cupping her by the cheek and fixing her with those eyes. And before Taha could even think about moving, she felt Tamar''s lips. The blonde drew back, motioning. As she did, Taha was lifted off the ground by warm winds. She tried to get free.


    This is a hallucination. She''d been drugged or something.


    "I am real, obviously," said Tamar. "Now, answer the question. Why have you waited until now to try and talk to me? Why did I have to track you down on the opposite side of the world to get your attention? And why have you brainwashed yourself into believing I don''t exist!"


    Tamar looked angry now. Angry and hurt.


    "Um... well I..." Taha struggled to get out. "Well, Tarasif is sort of in the middle of trying to destroy all the religions and um...


    "I lost my faith!"


    Tamar sat down as the winds raised her upward. "Yeah, I''m not buying it, Taha. I could understand a lack of offerings because of King Samrasa, but no prayers. Not a thought spared for me? Every invocation of my power is marked with, ''but it''s not really from a Goddess.''


    "What is the real reason you broke your oath as my priestess?"


    This was all just a hallucination. So it couldn''t hurt, to be honest, right? "I never wanted to be a priestess!"


    Tamar stopped. "What?


    "What do you mean? Then why did you join the cult?"


    "I... I didn''t think you were real!" said Taha.


    Tamar scoffed. "Oh sure, that''s believable. You had a crisis of faith only after training in all the highest arts of the trade. A crisis of faith that nobody noticed at all. That happened right as you were being chosen as my priestess. And coincidentally, only happened AFTER you learned all the high arts.


    "Tell me why you left. You put far too much work into this for it to be that."


    "I..." Taha felt as though Tamar was growing ever larger. She was shaking now. "I didn''t think I was worthy of the position."


    "I can tell when you''re lying, Taha," said Tamar. "And if you lie again, I''m going to get very cross with you.


    "Answer the question."


    "I never wanted to be a priestess!" screamed Taha at last. "I never even wanted to join the religion! I didn''t care about the faith or the ceremonies! I didn''t want anything to do with you! I just wanted to learn the knife tricks!"


    The winds stopped. Taha was put gently down, and Tamar got back on her feet. For a moment, Tamar walked over to her, sheathed her fans, and put them away. "...I will give you credit. That was not a lie.


    "And I''m not cross.


    "I''m enraged.


    "You entered my cult, observed my rituals, took my blessings, and then left me alone on the altar. And judging by some of the knife techniques you spread out here, I''d say you taught a thing or two to others."


    "I didn''t..." This wasn''t happening; she was having a drug-induced breakdown. She''d come out of it or die. "I didn''t think you were real."


    "Well, I am real, Taha. And I am very, very angry with you," said Tamar simply. "Do you have anything to say?"


    What could Taha say here? Well, she was completely screwed, so she had to play along with this maniac. So, Taha took the drug-induced feelings of guilt and used them to repent. "I... I''m sorry. I''m sorry, I didn''t think there were any gods. I''ll... I''ll hang up my knives! I''ll never tell anyone about your techniques again; please just don''t-"


    Before Taha could finish, Tamar flicked her wrist, and the winds lifted her up again. "Oh, I''m sorry, Taha. You seem to be under the impression that I came here for your knives.


    "I came here for you."


    "M-me?" asked Taha.


    "Yes, you thought I wasn''t real. That you were scamming my priests instead of me," said Tamar. "Obviously, you were wrong. But I guess you didn''t think you were cheating a Goddess.


    "So, I''ll treat this offense like one mortal to another. Like we made a contract between equals."


    Thank goodness, this psychopath was going to let her go. She could get the city guard or pay her off. "I... thank you, I...


    "I promise you won''t regret this; I won''t-"


    And then the winds deposited Taha into the arms of Tamar, who was giving her a very cold smile. Taha tried to move and was stuck in place.


    "You wanted to learn my techniques," said Tamar. "And in exchange, you owe me everything you are down to your very soul.


    "Not a very good deal to make with a mortal."


    Before Taha could speak again, Tamar, the Goddess, rose into the sky. She carried her like a bride and pulled her into the clouds. And all Taha could do was faint.


    *This chapter was based on information from a different source. This leads to a disconnect of sorts. Information previously covered is gone over again. There different interpretations of Nendas and Rokas, thus different portrayal.


    Tanith has deliberately altered Rokas'' exchange with Taha early in the chapter. In the initial writing, it was completely genuine. Taha also seems to be less violent and deranged in this reading of events.


    I have left it unaltered for the sake of a faithful adaptation. It is certainly not because Tanith was looking over my shoulder.

 Chapter 116 - Thirteen: Karma

    The palace of King Samrasa stood at the highest point in the city. It overlooked events fully and had many balconies. When he was a boy, Nendas wanted to live in a palace. Yet, it had changed. Now he yearned for the halls of the Hasafa Clan household.


    But he would never return.


    The walls were now covered in gold and silver, placed into the walls. The results of Samrasa''s conquests. Both abroad and taken from the homes and temples of those who resisted. As he had walked through the palace, Nendas thought he''d like it better the old way.


    But no matter.


    The gold and silver on these walls could be taken off to pay to deal with the crisis. It was a far better use for it than placing it in temples, where they had to get the Gods'' approval. Now it could be called for directly by the King.


    Entering the throne room, Nendas hated it outright.


    King Samrasa sat on a throne in a room designed to make him appear far larger than he was. His eyes were bright blue, and it was said he saw more than most men. Now, however, age was beginning to take hold of him. And all the armored guards could not distract from such.


    "Welcome, Nendas," said King Samrasa. "I''m told you have a report on the renegades of Elranor."


    "A report," said Nendas. "And a vision from Jaha, the Goddess of Peace." If this didn''t work, Nendas was a dead man. But he''d make his enemies bleed before he went out.


    "Explain it, then," said Samrasa.


    Nendas explained everything, albeit through a certain lens. He slanted the truth in a way he knew Samrasa would expect him to. It was a common way of destroying Gods that were not offensive to the people''s minds. Jaha had been spared this long because her massive nature made her... harmless.*


    However, Samrasa would want her destroyed sooner or later as well, as was right. Nendas had to cut his ties and make himself useful before that happened.


    "From there, we completed our mission and returned here?" Finished Nendas.


    "And you are quite certain of this vision, Nendas?" asked Samrasa, looking up at the images of demons and gods. Each showed Samrasa putting them down with his spear as though he had personally thrust it into them.


    While symbolic, future generations would have it as their truth.


    "Yes, I am certain," said Nendas. "I believe that the remaining Gods are preparing to move on. They intend to entrust the future to us now that we are ready to live without false idols. The vision is a clear indication of this."


    Nendas had reported the vision as was; one didn''t lie about what they saw in a god''s vision. But he could misinterpret it to mean what he wanted it to mean. The people had been doing that for decades.


    "...I see," said Samrasa. "Well, this is very fortunate timing. It will go a long way to helping us purge the less savory gods. Especially the most reasonable ones who support us.


    "The Hasafa, however, may not share your optimistic viewpoint."


    The Hasafa, his cursed clan. This was his opportunity. "My uncle, has plans to pretend as though Sarafi is Jaha incarnate, I believe. The means of shoring up support behind his reign." No need to mention his uncle being dragged to hell; Samrasa might have him executed for that.


    "I suppose you have an alternative," said Samrasa.


    "There is one King," said Nenedas. "Declare my service to Jaha null and void."


    Samrasa shifted. "...That is an unprecedented request, Nendas."


    "You have the authority now," said Nendas. "Jaha has ceded her authority to you; you are the mortal manifestation of that will. She has no further need of my services and understands that it was beyond my control.


    "With the gods departing this plane and ceding control to men, why should I continue? Why should I have my future sacrificed for them?"


    "This is a very difficult thing you are asking, Nendas," said Samrasa. "Even if the gods would allow it, the precedent could be dangerous. Perhaps circumstances were different, but not as they are now."


    Samrasa wanted him to do something. "How would circumstances have to be different?"


    "The only times the avatar of Jaha is allowed to depart their service is if the clan needs them more," said Samrasa. "For instance, when there is no legitimate heir. Or when the Clan has become too few.


    "But the Hasafa Clan is at its zenith."


    Something that had been waiting a very long time within Nendas came to the forefront, and he went very still. "...It''s zenith? Is that what you call it?"


    Samrasa looked at him in bemusement. "Hmm?"


    "...King Samrasa, may I speak plainly?" asked Nendas.


    "You may," said Samrasa.


    Nendas thought about how to say this and just used the truth. "You promised years ago to arrange my return to the Hasafa Clan. I have served you loyally this entire time. I have done everything you asked of me and exceeded what was required.


    "Now, my clan is verging on collapse.


    "The treasury is empty, wasted on lavish parties. My Uncle spends more time here currying favor than in his lands. Even now, he has taken merchant loans to pay off other loans. If things continue like this, the Hasafa cannot serve you effectively."


    Samrasa turned away. "We will discuss this matter another time."


    "My clan will die if something is not done," said Nendas. "What other time is there?


    "I ask that you honor your promise and allow me to return to my clan. Or failing that, admit that you cannot honor it."


    Samrasa went still and finally laughed scornfully. "...So, we are to drop pretenses, then?


    "Very well. The truth is that I never once intended to honor my word."


    Nendas said nothing. He had no intention of giving the man the dignity of a response. Samrasa took this for stunned silence. "You''re far too trusting, really, Nendas. Breaking promises is only ''evil'' when people know you are doing it. You should have listened more to your friend, Taha. You might have had some understanding of what was going on.


    "I used you to discredit the faith of Jaha and then for a few other things. And I''ll admit, as tools went, you were a clumsy one. Trying to exile the priests of Elranor instead of executing them was a near disaster. One Ralign set right."


    He was going on for a while. Nendas was looking forward to slashing out his eyes. When he finished, he''d castrate the old bastard. Samrasa wouldn''t have eyes at the end of this; he wouldn''t have ears or a tongue.


    Nendas would cut off his hands at the wrist, his feet below the ankles, and his nose. It would be slow to maximize the agony he felt. But he wouldn''t kill him; no, he''d heal him and leave him to wallow in horror and misery. The thoughts clashed against something.


    Samrasa moved toward him, looking somewhat irritated. "Of course, removing Ralign was a necessity. I''ve found that keeping one main subordinate in hand for too long can be dangerous. All the more with how he was beginning to warm up to you. He becomes less harsh with the imbeciles who still worship the gods.


    "I used you for my purposes and have found you other uses. But I see no reason why I should endanger a more valuable subordinate for your sake. After all, who else could run the Hasafa Clan into the ground like Munsuf. And all this time, he imagines I''ll declare him my heir.


    "I''m terribly sorry to tell you this since you were so fond of him. But the Samrasa you believe in never even existed."


    Nendas sighed as he tried to go for his sword. Now was the time for his revenge. Yet his hand would not move. "...Are you done embarrassing yourself?"


    Dead silence, and now it was Samrasa who looked surprised.


    "I have never believed in you, Samrasa," said Nendas.


    "What?" said Samrasa, shocked.


    "I did not believe in you for the merest fraction of an instant," explained Nendas. "At no point during our association did I put even the smallest amount of trust or faith in you? Not once did I feel even the smallest amount of affection or respect for you as a person.


    "I know you murdered my Father, Samrasa. I know that you''re sleeping with my Uncle while having men crucified for the same sin. I knew that the assassination attempt by Kulat on you was a lie from the moment it happened. And you don''t have to kill me to keep it a secret; everyone else knows as well.


    "All the servants in this palace know what you do when you think no one is watching. All your hired soldiers know as well. The walls have ears, and the woods have eyes."


    "That''s impossible!" said Samrasa. "You couldn''t-"


    "It''s inevitable," said Nendas. "Ordinary people are a lot smarter than you give them credit for, and they have been here a lot longer than I have. The servants pretend not to notice because you could have them chopped into tiny pieces. The nobles pretended not to notice because doing so would be an act of rebellion. Or because they don''t care.


    "And the soldiers?


    "They either serve money or the King.


    "But you aren''t the King, Samrasa.


    "I''m terribly sorry since you seem to think he''s a mask you can put on and take off at any time. But the truth is, the King people admire is only someone you are pretending to be. You are neither wise nor strong.


    "You are but a feeble shadow of the one who earned their admiration long ago. Soon to be hidden in the darkness, you called down."


    And it was at this point that Samrasa was standing in front of a very dangerous young man. One ample reason to want him dead. His guards were near at hand but needed to be farther. By the time they came in, Nendas could put a sword through him. "...Why are you here?"


    "I wanted to allow you to set right some of what you had done wrong," said Nendas, but it was Jaha now. She was speaking through him. "That is all. You can still turn back, you know. Call off your atrocities against the gods chosen and reform.


    "There is time to make up for Ralign-"


    "Get out of my palace!" snarled Samrasa.


    Nendas sought to lunge forward and make good on his throat. But his body would not move, found himself turning and walking away by a will other than his own. "As you wish."


    Walking out the door, he was surrounded by many guards with drawn blades. Nendas looked to Kalif. He was a Dinisian mercenary and bore paler skin. "...Is this done by the orders of Samrasa?"


    "I''m not sure he is in a state to give orders, and I''ve got a feeling he''ll want you dead soon enough," said Kalif. "I thought you''d kill him after he sent my men out. Though I would have executed you if you had."


    He''d have failed. Nendas would kill him, him, and his whole worthless race! "Kalif, is it?" asked Nendas. "Would you say this city is in a stable position?"


    "Fairly, yes," said Kalif. "But, sooner or later, something will flare up with this kind of action on the King''s part. My job is to act as the Captain of his guard."


    "Have you heard what happened to Ralign?" asked Nendas.


    "Some of it, yeah," said Kalif. "He was killed in battle."


    "No," said Nendas. "I killed him myself on King Samrasa''s orders. It was decided that he had grown beyond Samrasa''s control. Ralign had served him since he was a boy for years. I''ve served him for years."


    Silence.


    "Are you trying to get me to betray my employer?" asked Kalif.


    "Is your employer the King of Tarasif? Or Tarasif itself?" asked Nendas.


    "They are the same," said Kalif.


    "Are they?" asked Nendas. "The King is a man the Gods have given divine authority. Samrasa himself has never denied this when convenient. The King uses the money he taxes from the citizens of Tarasif; he spends their lives in war. If a King rules only for himself and destroys the temples to the gods he is meant to serve, is he legitimate?"


    "What exactly do you want me to do?" asked Kalif.


    "Nothing," said Nendas. "Remain alert and do as you think is right as you have thus far. Samrasa is nearly seventy and will die in a decade or two. And without any heir, everything he built will collapse.


    "Unless something is done to save it.


    "I probably won''t live much longer after this. So I will simply tell you to have faith.


    "I don''t have any left." Then, setting a hand on Kalif''s shoulder, he moved past, unstopped.


    And as he left the palace, walking as a hollow shell, rage overtook him.


    He could have killed Samrasa right there! No one could have stopped him! But instead, he''d walked out at the hour when he could have won! Now he was sure to die, and Samrasa would live!


    Curse Jaha and curse the day he''d ever taken her mark. Nendas made a mental note to give it to Taha and Rokas when he saw them. However, as he walked, he was in no mood to do so. He didn''t want to speak to anyone at all.


    It had never been anything but a desperate hope.


    Samrasa stood nothing to gain by restoring Nendas to his old position of power. Nothing other than repaying Nendas for his long service. And why do that when he could be murdered once he''d outlived his usefulness?


    After all, the Hasafa had been staunchly loyal under Uncle.


    Uncle.


    Uncle had thought he''d gotten very well out of all this, didn''t he? He thought he''d beaten Nendas. But now, he was screaming in perpetual agony, enduring horrors beyond imagining. It was too good for him; he deserved far worse. They all did!


    If he could damn this worthless city to hell and everyone in it, he''d do it!


    However, as he walked the streets, he saw Sarafi and her friend, one of those she often walked with. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Wow, Sarafi, that necklace you have is so pretty!" said the friend. She looked to be the daughter of a noble.


    Why should Nendas die alone? He could make sure no one was left to pray for Uncle. Kill Sarafi and end his line. Murder all his supporters too.


    He could probably kill the worthless little bitch fairly easily. Lure her away, and snap her neck. Then he could go after Uncle. Kill him too, put out his eyes. He''d kill them all and carve out their eyes! There wouldn''t be a single Hasafa left when he was done with them!


    "I know, right?" said Safari. "I got it from a vendor from the east. You can''t find gems like this anywhere else."


    Nendas tailed after her. She was, what, fourteen? Naive and stupid to come out here without an escort. "...Sarafi.


    "It''ll be easy. I can just get her alone. Drive a knife into her, kill her. Make her pay. Make the Hasafa pay for what they did to him, to Father, the cowards.


    "I can hide the body, I can..." Except his hand would not move. Nendas could feel her cursed presence trying to keep him back. Jaha held him in place, and her will was bent on stopping him. "Let go of me! She''s going to be set up to supplant you anyway! Let go! Would that you were a mortal! I would rip the eyes from your head!"


    Why wasn''t her power broken yet?! Why did she still hold him?!


    "...Later," Nendas murdered. "I''ll kill her later when you can''t interfere anymore. You won''t stop me again. I will kill you eventually, too, and no one will ever know. No one."


    Taking the money he had, he went looking for Taha. She and Rokas usually hung out at one of several different inns. Checking each of them, however, left Nendas finding none of them. All of a sudden, however, the winds howled like a hurricane. It was so strong it blew open all the shutters on the windows around him.


    For a time, it went silent, but Nendas saw the clouds gathering. Drawn in the same direction, he got to one of the other taverns. "Where is Taha? She should have finished by now, and I need... I need to give her the pay I owe her." Opening the door, he saw the barkeep. "You... were Taha drinking here?"


    "She was, but..." the man shifted.


    "But what?"


    "There was this strange woman, blonde and from the east," said the man. "There were all these winds like a hurricane, and the woman claimed to be a god. Tamar, I think. She challenged Taha to a fight, and they left."


    "A god..." mused Nendas. "No. No, they''re fading. They can''t interfere here. Not anymore." What was he talking about, half-delusional mutterings even he didn''t believe? It was a mere habit spoken to fill an emptiness. He felt energies within him, now at war with him.


    "Are you alright?" asked the man.


    "I''m fine," said Nendas, bile rising in his throat. Turning, he dropped the pay he had been given and fell to one knee. Staggering out of the inn, he fell against the wall. "...I need to get out of sight. I can''t afford to let these health issues appear in public. People will say I''m cursed.


    "But I''m not cursed..."


    "You are correct," said a voice.


    Nendas looked up and around and saw no one. Even as he did, he felt his heart beating faster and faster. He choked and staggered toward the voice, choking back vomit. "What?"


    "You are not cursed. Your own malice cages you," said the voice. "It is only now that the bars you put around your heart have begun to make you sick."


    Nendas was staggering now, finding himself in the woods. He knew he shouldn''t be walking alone, but now he didn''t know how to return to the road. "...You, who are you? What is this place?


    "Where am I?"


    The trees were different, and they hurt his eyes to look at. All of them hurt his eyes to look at. Nendas struggled, choking as he fell to the ground, and finally vomited over the ground. Even as he did, however, he felt even worse. His hands were shaking as he tried to get away.


    Get away to where?


    "You already know who I am, Avatar of Jaha," said the voice.


    The mention of his slavery enraged him. "SHUT UP!!


    "I''ll kill you; I''ll kill you if you call me that!"


    "You are in a position to kill no one," said the voice. "You can hardly stand; your body and spirit are rebelling against you. The hatred consumed your heart has twisted your mind so you can hardly see straight.


    "It''s a sight undeserving of hatred."


    "My eyes..." Nendas found his vision fading as he collapsed to the ground. He must have hit a slope because he rolled down something. "Leave me alone! Leave me alone!"


    "You ask to be left alone?" asked the voice. "Yet surely you have been deliberately calling down our wrath all this time."


    "What the hell would you know?!" snarled Nendas. "You branded me, sent her inside me, took away everything that was mine by right! I never wanted to serve any of you!"


    "You seem to have taken your revenge quite effectively, Nendas," said the voice.


    "Never," snarled Nendas as he stood. "Not even for an instant.


    "Father was murdered because of her! And my life was sacrificed to her as a political means! I have no regrets! Given the same choices again, I would have made them all!"


    "What you''re saying and what you are doing are two very different things, Nendas," said the voice. "You speak as if you have no regrets but are killing yourself. Your very nature abhors your actions.


    "Calm yourself. Your violent impulses are at war with the energies that infuse you."


    "You made my nature... it is as much a slave to the Gods as I was meant to be..." said Nendas, stumbling forward. "I... I will never die for Jaha!"


    "No, you will not," said the voice. "You are dying for yourself as we speak.


    Nendas'' strength left him. He collapsed to the ground, lying there and feeling dead. "I... I can''t see.


    "Nothing...


    "Nothing ever goes as planned..."


    His vision darkened.


    However, it returned to him suddenly, and Nendas felt... odd. The pain was gone, and his body was smaller. His arms and legs felt different, and he... he was coated in something, like a coat. Before him, he saw bars, but his vision was different, sharper. He also wasn''t seeing forward but in two different directions. The bars were in both directions.


    And a hand was reaching toward him.


    On instinct, Nendas lashed out. Yet it was with his face, and he hit the hand with...


    Was that a beak?


    Had he been put under some spell? If he had, the hand was withdrawn. He saw before him...


    Her.


    Jaha, not as a statue but in the flesh, or more than flesh. Her pure white glowing eyes, her black hair. It was like what he''d seen when he''d first been pledged to her, only far worse. He recoiled but found he had nowhere to recoil to.


    Nendas was standing on something.


    A perch?


    "So, you''re awake then," said Jaha.


    Nendas tried to shout curses, but they came out only as a screech.


    "I don''t blame you, you know," said Jaha. "You never really knew what you were doing. And you were so confused and consumed by hatred. It must have seemed like another form of slavery to you. Even speaking through you was painful for me after a point."


    Jaha reached through the cage to try and touch him. Nendas lashed out at her, and his beak struck her hand. A scratch was made, and blood drip descended, but she did not flinch.


    "Please, please don''t peck me. I''m not going to hurt you, and I won''t be able to feed you if you do," said Jaha. Nendas tried again. "Nendas, please, I can''t let you out. Not when you''re like this. You''ll only hurt yourself if you do that. You''re not like you were before, Nendas. You um... you''ve changed.


    "See?"


    She brought up a mirror, and Nendas looked at himself.


    Nendas saw in it a hawk caged within a cell. He had brown feathers and was the sort used for hunting. Samrasa had a similar hawk.


    "You''d been driven mad, Nendas," said Jaha. "You weren''t aware of your surroundings at all, and... when that tree fell on you, you were near dead.


    "But, um, that doesn''t matter. Because now you''re here with me.


    "You''ll be safe here and can''t hurt yourself or those around you anymore."


    Nendas screamed, and the sound was that of a caged bird.

 Chapter 117 - Fourteen: Judgement

    Rokas stared into his cup within the tavern, wishing to drink the wine of the royal vineyard again. Kulat had some of the greatest winepresses in the world. And some of it was afforded only to Kings.


    Not that it mattered since Taha had slashed his brother''s throat. Though his brother probably deserved it more than most people.


    Taha and Nendas were gone, but they may as well have been gone when he was in their company. Rokas had always been an outlier in the group, and Taha had focused more and more on Nendas. Nendas himself had grown increasingly distant of late, often pacing restlessly. Sometimes he would lie against a tree as though dead, and Rokas would wonder if he were ill. Sometimes he was cynical and bitter with hopeless eyes. Other times, he was like a mere vessel for a light that filled his body and shone through his eyes.


    What they had done and what they were doing had taken a toll on Nendas more than the others though he had hidden it was.


    When he spoke, people listened. It was a trait that Rokas had come to love, though he would never say it out loud. Nendas despised homosexuality, even if he did not despise Rokas. And Samrasa''s example had discredited it all the more. His hatred of the one had mixed with the other. It did not seem that anyone would acknowledge who Rokas was in his life now.


    Nendas would never approve. Taha would not care, but she was more loyal to Nendas than Rokas.


    But, even as friends, he''d grown increasingly distant from Rokas and then Taha. And they were sent on one murderous mission after another. And all the while, Tarasif decayed as King Samrasa found a reason to remove one person or another. One of the barmaids at this place had been grabbed by troops and disappeared.


    Rokas had no idea if it had been ordered or was throwing their weight around. Either way, he was convinced that he was the villain of this particular story. But he was obligated to Taha and Nendas, so all he could do was stick to his friends.


    Not that it mattered.


    Jaha''s appearance had been unexpected, but Rokas wondered if it was her. Or had Nendas gone mad from the passing years and utilized her powers against his despised enemy? He''d become cold since the death of Ralign, most likely due to murder. However, Nendas had never admitted to anything.


    Rokas found it unlikely Jaha would behave in such a fashion. Moreover, it ran contrary to all that had been spoken of by her priests. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It seemed almost inevitable they''d suffer a grisly end sooner or later like one of those men on crosses. Rokas'' only hope was to be killed in battle fighting someone who ought to be an enemy. And that bitterly disturbed him.


    More than anything, he wished for the days when he hadn''t been an outcast in his family.


    Failing that, when he''d been working with Taha as an entertainer. But his destiny, it seemed, was one of endless decay. And so he drank ever deeper.


    "...Is this all we have to show for our lives?" said Rokas finally, leaning back in his seat. "Shrines to gods we change on a whim? Blood on our hands and drink to satiate our doubts?


    "Nendas, at one time, drank with us."


    And then Rokas heard the wind''s howling and looked up, and something in the air made him sober. Standing, he rushed out of the inn. Something strange was afoot, and he meant to find out what. Running to where he knew Taha often drank, he came to the door and looked in.


    "Did you hear there was a girl in here looking for Taha?" said a woman.


    "Really? Why?" asked one of her responses.


    "Well, she said Taha had asked her to come by finally like she''d known her for years," said the woman. "But I''d never seen her around these parts.


    "She even introduced herself as Tamar."


    "I''ve heard the Cult of Tamar sometimes sends out priestesses who answer to her name," mused one. "They shed their family bonds and dye their hair blonde."


    "This girl, where did she go?" asked Rokas, approaching them.


    "To Taha''s usual drinking spot, I think," said the woman.


    He hurried off. Rokas did not know why someone taking the name of the Bloodwind Goddess was here. But Taha had been high in her cult, and it could not be a good sign.


    Rokas ran the rest of the way, and what he suspected now seemed to be coming true. He should have known that sooner or later, their actions would warrant retribution. But perhaps it was not directed at Taha but elsewhere. He might yet get Taha and Nendas and get out of this place.


    All of a sudden, darkness fell over the sun. And out of a door of shadow stepped a figure that seemed almost a silhouette in a pale light. His hands were like claws of shadow, and he upraised one hand. The very presence of this thing filled Rokas with despair.


    His knees shuddered at the coming of the creature. He forced himself to take a combat stance.


    "This city is weighed," said the voice. "It is found wanting."


    "Impus," said Rokas, struggling to stay on his feet. Others who looked at him did not see him but veered away to other streets. They knew something was there, even if they did not know they knew.


    Odd.


    Taha would like to discuss that, but she was gone.


    All hope left him. Every dream was shattered in his mind. Every hope fell dead as the being before he loomed over the city. The people screamed in horror, fleeing or throwing their faces on the ground. Staring into the utter nothingness, Rokas felt his knees shaking, and it was all he could do to stand his ground.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    The God of the Void had come.


    "He is," said Impus.


    And across Tarasif, the lights went out in every window. All the stars were covered in a shroud of darkness that seemed but an extension of the creature.


    "I must face him if only to slow his attack. Nothing ever good comes from Impus being present," thought Rokas. So he walked toward the coming void.


    He had no idea what he would say here. Nor did he know what he could do or if it made a difference. But he stood his ground and formed into a stance as Impus'' hand reached forward. "Hold where you are. Whether you be God or man, you shall not harm those within this city while I draw breath!"


    Impus was suddenly before him, and Rokas'' body froze in place. "Who are you?" asked Impus.


    "I am Rokas, companion of Nendas and Taha," said Rokas, feeling he ought to cite them first. Or should he cite his status as a Prince?


    "They are broken," said Impus. "They are irrelevant."


    "Why are you consuming us? What sin have the people here committed?" asked Rokas.


    "The divine has been withdrawn," said Impus. "Now, the price of sin must be paid."


    "But did you also not allow such sacrilege to be committed? What warnings have you sent?" asked Rokas.


    "What warnings have you heeded," said Impus. "Atrocities have consequences.


    "You would not believe your spirit. Why would you believe warnings?"


    "Not all within this city took part in such atrocities," said Rokas.


    "I knew of them. All chose to do nothing," said Impus. "Thus, all are guilty. I am here to claim them."


    Rokas was colder now than ever, and his body was going number. "I ask that you pardon us, Lord Impus."


    "The time for pardon has passed," said Impus. "I will claim those condemned."


    Then Jaha had turned on them. "And who is guilty?"


    "All are guilty," said Impus.


    "But they feared for their lives," said Rokas, feeling like he would die instantly. "I was among those.


    "If you must take the life of someone, then take my life as a willing sacrifice. And if my sacrifice does not satiate you, seek those whose guilt is impossible to deny."


    "Who else?" asked Impus.


    Rokas shuddered. "I have two companions, Taha, and Nendas, who I believe would sacrifice to save this land. They are strong, and I believe they would understand the need."


    "You would pay the price for their sins..." said Impus, and Rokas felt him examining his soul. "You are unworthy."


    "Perhaps, but I shall offer myself to you nonetheless, that I might save who I can," said Rokas. What was he doing? But then, what else could he do?


    "They are gone," said Impus. "The one called Nendas has been taken from this land by Jaha. Taha is gone with the wind. They cannot offer themselves."


    Rokas had to stall. "Then allow me time to rescue them, Lord Impus. Spare these people until my quest is complete."


    Impus paused. "Thirty days before all in this realm suffer my wrath. But you shall not pass the doors to the divine realm without an immortal to aid you. And I shall provide no such help nor guide you to it."


    "I see," said Rokas. "Even so, thank you for this opportunity to save my realm."


    Impus ignored him and rose into the sky. "Make your peace. I shall claim you all."


    Then the darkness passed, and a pale and unforgiving light descended on the city. Rokas fell to one knee, gasping. "...What am I thinking?


    "Even if I could get Nendas and Taha back, they would never submit. Taha does not even believe in the gods, and Nendas is heartless now. But, I must make an attempt.


    "I gave my word, after all.


    "But where can even find the gates of the Divine, let alone..."


    "Help may be nearer at hand than you think," said a voice to his side.


    Rokas turned and saw a man with snow-white hair and skin in the street. He wore armor that glowed with an unworldly light. "You...


    "Who are you?"


    "I am Elranor, whom you persecute," said Elranor. "You had best follow me."


    "You wish for me to follow you. Where?" asked Rokas.


    "To the gates of the Divine Plane, of course," said Elranor. "You want to save your friends, do you not, and then convince them to sacrifice themselves?"


    "I, I do. Though only if it is their choice," said Rokas.


    "Then I shall lead you there," said Elranor.


    "But why are you helping me?" asked Rokas. It didn''t make sense.


    "Nendas has gone mad," said Elranor. "The conflicting nature of the divine within him broke him. He came to a point where he was unwilling to take his ambitions to their logical endpoint. For all his brutality and scorn, he could not bring himself to kill his innocent cousin."


    "I was not aware he had planned such a thing?" said Rokas.


    "It was hardly planned," said Elranor. "Nor was it done.


    "But I think that he could be a good man someday if he is given a chance. And you were always respectful.


    "One good turn deserves another, and so I have chosen to help you in your quest."


    "Then you have my thanks," said Rokas. "Though I expect it shall have a bitter end whatever the outcome."


    "That is a trap of your own making, not mine," said Elranor.


    "I know," said Rokas.


    And so their journey began. However, Elranor had not really answered the question. And whatever happened, it seemed this would all have a terrible end indeed.

 Chapter 118 - Fifteen: Meeting with the Goddess

    Taha woke up.


    As she did, she felt herself being hit by cold gusts. She could see nothing and hear nothing. Her arms were bound tightly behind her back, and she felt herself swaying. When she tried to speak, she found her mouth had something wedged between it.


    Where was she?


    What was going on?


    Tamar.


    Tamar had appeared, or someone claiming to be Tamar, and she''d taken her. Seized her against her will and took her away. She must have been drugged somehow to see what she''d seen.


    Right now, she was trapped somewhere high up and completely unable to see or hear. So she had to get her arms free. Struggling to pull them out Taha tested where they were strong. Only her bindings seemed to shift wherever she moved her arms like they were liquid.


    "Having fun, Taha?" asked a familiar voice.


    "Mmmph!" snarled Taha despite herself.


    She had to get free and knife this bitch.


    "I don''t usually give this kind of hospitality. But I kind of feel like this fits our relationship a bit better, doesn''t it?" asked Tamar. "You should be grateful. If I''d kept you like this in the mortal coil, you''d have your muscles degenerate. So, let''s take that blindfold off."


    And then the blindfold came off.


    Taha found herself floating in the midst of a whirlwind. Tamar was before her, standing at the edge of a peak. Around them, Taha saw a great mountain of black stone with a vast fortress all throughout it.


    "So, Taha, welcome to my domain. You''ll be staying here for a while, so get used to it," said Tamara, cupping Taha under the cheek. "I''ve got to admit, the look really suits you."


    "Mmmm, mmm," was all Taha managed to say in response.


    "Oh, I''m just enjoying your helplessness, is all," said Tamar, reaching behind her head. "Still, I guess one-sided conversations can get old."


    As soon as the gag came off, Taha snapped at Tamar''s arm, trying the bite the hand. If she opened an artery, she could free herself while her enemy bled to death. But she missed, and Tamar looked only faintly amused.


    "You bitch! Let me out of here! Now!" snarled Taha, calculating her bargaining power. Nendas would be here soon. However, how had she created this kind of illusion? Likely spellwork of some kind, not impossible.


    "Or what?" asked Tamar.


    "I''ll let you live for a start," said Taha. "I don''t know how you managed to drug me before, but I''m not going to fall for it a-"


    Tamar raised a scroll and batted her over the head for it. "You''re mine to do as I like with. Contract, remember?"


    "What..." said Taha. "I never signed a contract."


    "Oh, but your handwriting is on it, isn''t it?" said Tamar, unrolling the parchment. As she did, the bindings on Taha vanished, and she fell onto the ground that had not been there a moment ago.


    "How..." began Taha.


    "I Taha, do solemnly swear to live my life according to the teachings of Tamar and live by her code. In this, I will become her vessel incarnate. Etc, etc, swear a lifetime of service," said Tamar.


    "It''s all very elaborate. Queen Serecula, my other champion, offered it to you, and you signed it."


    Taha thought back to her time with the Tamar cult. Looking at the parchment, she saw it had her handwriting, however. "...We never signed a contract."


    "Yes, but you made an oath, and this piece of paper is your visualization of that oath. Just because you had no intention of honoring it doesn''t make it any less ''binding,''" said Tamar. Then Taha was slammed up against a wall, spread eagle. "Get it, binding? Because you''re in bondage.


    "I mean, the ropes keeping you trapped like this were literally formed from your own words. So, it''s actually quite literal."


    "What do you want?" asked Taha, concluding she was still drugged. Likely a drug designed to allow this woman to manipulate her perceptions. You could do that with magic.


    "Oh, I already have what I want, Taha. You," said Tamar, leaning in so they were face to face. "The only question left for you is what I''m going to do to you now that I have you. I guess I could just leave you hanging in here as an example forever.


    "But... I''ve put a lot of effort into you.


    "So I''m still deciding."


    This was bad.


    Very, very bad. This woman was obviously psychotic and insane, and Taha had to do something to get out of here. "...Listen, I... I have friends. Powerful friends, I''m personal friends with Nendas Hasafa. When he finds me, and he will find me, you''ll be in trouble."


    Taha scoffed. "Oh, right, your boyfriend.


    "I''m not worried about him. Jaha decided to collect on a debt the last time I looked after I drove him mad with bloodlust. He had a lot of repressed rage and frustration, and I immediately brought the aggression out.


    "Unfortunately, he did not murder his sister. Oh well, better luck next time."


    Taha had no idea what that meant, but denying that this woman was a body seemed like a very bad idea. It would be far better to play along and wait for an opportunity to escape and murder her. "Where are we?"


    The area around them kept shifting, meaning it was some magical dimension. Taha calculated things inwardly and considered how best to approach the situation.


    "In the underworld," said Tamar. "And I think I''ve just come up with what I''m going to do to you, Taha?" And she drew out a knife.


    Okay, no more calculations; feign submission now. "No, no, wait! I''m sorry, your majesty, don''t... don''t kill me, please!"


    "Oh please, where would the fun in that be?" asked Tamar before slashing several times. The bindings on Taha fell off around her, and she collapsed onto a hard stone floor. Taha fell to her knees and saw Tamar holding her knife in a loose grip.


    Snatching it from the hand, she turned it around and moved to drive it into her heart. Even as the blade sank into the flesh, however, Tamar seemed to fade away. Looking up, Taha saw Tamar leaning against a wall.


    "...Really, you''re trying to attack me? And after I released you?" Tamara sighed. "Father always said you sometimes had to beat a mate into submission first.


    "Fine, we''ll try things your way."


    Then her fans were out, and she slashed them. Even though they were indoors, Taha felt the winds cut past her. It was like a blade was slashing her, and she felt agony as blood spewed from her wounds. Collapsing to the ground, Tamar grabbed her by the throat and smashed her against the wall.


    Tamar crushed the air from her lungs before forcing a kiss onto her. And as she did, Taha felt blood pour from her mouth. As she was released, it spattered over the floor.


    "I told you, you made a contract. And I''ve collected," said Tamar. "You can''t strike me down any more than you can damage your body. In fact, the fact that I don''t want you to hit me makes it nearly impossible.


    "I guess that means you were trying to get one over me again. Though I admit, I like being called your majesty. Even Father''s slaves don''t call him that."


    Her wounds... they had shed so much blood she should be dead. Taha calculated saw a door and considered that Tamar''s power might be limited to a given location. It was at least worth testing. She was in some kind of spiritual dimension. It was a pocket plane created within the realm of Turmoil¡ªthe realm of lesser deities.


    So the door might lead out.


    It was worth a shot because Tamar enjoyed toying with her. So Taha threw the knife at the ceiling. It got Tamar''s attention, and Taha rushed past her. The knife bounced off the ceiling at the right angle. He headed toward Tamar, who caught it as Taha reached the door.


    However, even as she did, winds whipped through her, pulling her back and slashing her flesh all the harder. The pain was horrible, but Taha doubted Tamar begrudged a chance to show dominance. So she knew Tamar''s winds did not require much prep work or mental effort. Either that or the Tamar before her was merely an avatar of a greater being.


    No, not an avatar, a lens?


    Either way, Taha was pinned against the wall, soaking it with blood now. Tamar licked some of the blood off her cheek with obvious relish. "Oh, running are you, Taha? Like you ran away from me before?" S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Show fear. Demonstrate how afraid you are so she thinks she is in control. Just because you show fear doesn''t mean that fear has mastered you. "I..." Taha choked, letting tears of pain fall down her cheeks.


    "Let me guess? Hanging from wires, right?" asked Taha. "Hmm, these are some pretty elaborate wires, aren''t they? You''d think you''d have run into them by now. Almost like I''m actually using the winds."


    Idiot.


    Did she think that disowning the existence of Gods required disowning magic? Or of beings that existed in a spiritual plane? All those things could exist without being gods.


    Apparently, Taha had let her anger show, and Tamar looked amused. "What are you looking at, Taha?"


    Let Tamar think Taha was broken and delusion. Lull her into a false sense of security, gather information, then strike from a position of power. "This is...


    "What is going on?!"


    Taha poured out the sense of helplessness. She''d felt it when those raiders had attacked the village. She''d thought it would surely be destroyed, but it never was. One part was relieved, one part was disappointed. Taha channeled the part that had been relieved and left the power monger at the back of her thoughts.


    When had that been?


    Had it ever happened?


    "Oh, but you''re the one who wants to figure everything out for herself," said Tamar, cupping her cheek. "What do you think is going on?"


    "Please, please, leave me alone! I''m sorry! I''m sorry!" cried Taha. Her defiance would hopefully have been enough to pique Tamar''s interest. Continued defiance would only anger her.


    "Sorry, for what?" asked Tamar. "I''m just some insane maniac who drugged you, Taha? What do you have to be sorry for?"


    "I don''t know! I don''t know! I... I just want you to leave me alone!" said Taha, letting her helplessness flow through her.


    "Then why not just say so?" asked Tamar.


    "Because I''m afraid you''ll hurt me again, okay!" said Taha, disgusted at the pitiful admission. "I''m afraid! Okay! Are you satisfied? I''m completely terrified of you! I... my body won''t obey me unless you let it; none of my weapons are any good! No matter where I look, I see you!


    I''m alone and scared, and I want to go home!


    "Please... please let me go home. And if you won''t then... then just kill me or ransom me or anything! Just don''t leave me in this place alone with you; I''m begging you!" Add just a bit of defiance to get her to be interested without being a complete milksop.


    "...Do you really hate me that much?" asked Tamar with a smile. There seemed to be a genuine shock but no real hurt. What, was she surprised Taha disliked her for slashing her nearly to pieces?


    "Yes!" said Taha. "I... I was minding my own business after a mission, and then... and then you entered like we''d known eachother for years! But I''d never seen you before in my life! And... and...


    "Please... just put me in a cell and leave me alone."


    Tamar stepped back, and Taha''s wounds vanished with the pain. "Alright, fine.


    "I''ll leave you alone. I''ve lost interest anyway. You''re more interesting than you were in your first life, at least¡ªa lot more interesting. And I wanted you then.


    "I''m glad I snapped you up when I did."


    And Tamar walked to the door. Taha fell to the ground, shivering at the memory of the pain. First life? What had that been about anyway? Had Taha possibly been reincarnated before? Perhaps investigating it later would be useful.


    For now, she had to appear to be broken, so Tamar could mold her into whatever she wanted. "...Thank you."


    "...I''ll be back with instructions for you when I think of something else for you to do," said Tamar. "You won''t get to mope around forever."


    "Just go," said Taha, feeling tears in her eyes.


    Fool.


    Did she think a mere show could break of crude force Taha? She''d faced far worse ideological challenges than this. Nendas and Rokas were worthy opponents; this idle brute was not.


    Tamar might think she was a god; she might have the power of a god. But that did not make her a god.


    Taha would use her up and throw her away soon enough.


    All she had to do was find the right angle.

 Chapter 119 - Sixteen: Captivity

    Within his cage, Nendas found his wing slowly healing as the pain of it was soothed. It had been trapped in his side, and he could only stand upon his perch. Yet, there seemed to be much to look at from this steel cage. As he did, he looked around at the lands surrounding him. If indeed they were lands.


    This place was like one of perpetual blossoming with flowers and blue skies. There was a great hill of grass greener than anything, surrounded by a river of white water. Yet the borders were hazy, and here and there, he saw people. Yet, they were faint outlines and never approached. He wondered if the hazy areas were real or if he was less real.


    Now and then, Nendas would see other birds flying around, and some would come to Jeha. Yet none were hawks, as he had found himself. All seemed to be doves or peaceful birds that flew out to other lands. If you gazed distantly enough, you could see darker places.


    There were castles and cities that Nendas had never seen, places where the sky was strange. Twisted creatures dwelled, and horrors dwelled there. Yet there were others...


    Nendas saw one place through Jaha. It was green, green, and beautiful and peaceful too. It was a land ruled by many people in great fortresses. The fields were unmarred by war and tilled with skin. Many were fair-haired and white-skinned.


    There were no crucifixions in that place, and a yearning grew within him to walk those roads. Yet he was a warrior; he served no purpose without war. And his gaze, drawn by Jaha, drew to a cold and fridged land, of rocky mountains, where battles were often fought.


    He felt, for a moment, almost as though he lived there. It stood north, over a channel to the green land. Men there went armed all the time. And many fortresses stood where once evil things had dwelled. There were places where they still did.


    They were foul creatures that could be cut down. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Often Jaha would seem to go into a trance, and he would see her speaking to the birds, giving orders. Were these other Avatars of her? Or extensions of herself in some way?


    Was there a difference?


    He could still feel Jaha within his mind, only now it was everywhere. The cage surrounding him was strong beyond measure. Nothing he could do could break or bend it, and he could find no lock or key to escape.


    Jaha had hardly left his side, usually speaking soft words to him though he couldn''t always make them out. He could feel her in his mind at all times. Yet, he felt a difference in her nature within his mind. The Jaha within was beautiful, kind, and gentle, providing him with food. And yet, within him, he felt a cold and hard nature commanding.


    And the two were set against one another. He was between them as though they were two sides of the same coin.


    Time passed in a dreamlike blur, and Jaha opened the cage door, taking ahold of his wing. Checking it, she removed the harness keeping it in place. "Hmm, so it appears the wings are healing well.


    "That''s wonderful. When I found you, I was afraid you''d be permanently broken. I''m sure you''ll be able to fly someday."


    Nendas snapped forward, though he did not know why. His body did not seem entirely his own now. Jaha was urging him forward, and she withdrew her hand before catching him and setting back the sling. His wing was trapped again, and fury filled him, though it was not hers.


    "You mustn''t peck at me, Nendas. It interferes with your healing," said Jaha, voice melodious. "Oh, stop that; it tickles."


    Didn''t she realize he was not doing this himself? Or was he? He was not sure where his control ended and hers began. But, soon enough, Elranor walked into the place. As he did, the realm shifted, and Jaha looked at him. She noted his presence and smiled.


    "I''m surprised at you, Jaha," said Elranor. "I would think that you would be more forgiving."


    "It''s not really his fault," said Jaha. "And, well, he is one of my avatars, even if he never wanted to be."


    "I wonder if he would not prefer it otherwise," said Elranor.


    "Oh no, definitely not," said Jaha. "When he was originally given to me, Nendas hated the idea of doing my work. I remember he was always pretending like I was my statue. And he wasn''t at all good at following the rules, even if he remembered all of them.


    "I kept asking him to spread my word, but his anger just kept getting in the way.


    "He''d be liable to hurt himself if I gave him a human form.


    "Whenever I tried to embrace him, he always tried to shy away. He''s never been very sociable, after all. So this is really what he chooses to be."*


    Did she not know that she was within him even now? Jaha often seemed to need to learn where she was or what she was doing. And Elranor was often on hand, keeping her in perspective.


    "Do you truly intend to keep him in a cage forever?" asked Elranor.


    "I''d hate to put him at risk, Elranor. I''m afraid that if I let him out, he''ll hurt himself again," said Jaha.


    "Birds are meant to fly, Jaha," said Elranor.


    Jaha paused and then looked at the hawk. "...Yes, I suppose you are right.


    "Now, Nendas, if you want to try and fly within this place, you can."


    What was happening here?


    Had she not spoken of flight as some faraway dream? How much time had passed? Had any time passed?


    The cage vanished, fading away. As it did so, Nendas found he had no structure on which to stand. He found himself falling through the void between his perch and the air. Flapping his wings, he tried to take flight, falling further. He thought he''d hit the ground but never got the chance. However, even as he did, he found himself resting on Jaha''s arm. She was wearing a thick glove and now standing within the fields.


    "Oh, dear, did that hurt?" asked Jaha. "Ordinarily, birds his age can fly like that."


    "Perhaps, but he has not been a bird for very long," said Elranor.


    "Maybe I should turn him into something a bit less delicate. Like a dog, or perhaps a serpent?" said Jaha.


    "I think you would be better off utilizing him as he is, Jaha," said Elranor, seemingly long-suffering.


    "Yes, I suppose you are right," said Jaha with a smile. "You don''t have to worry about being bad at things. Ages ago, my spirit was fragmented and scattered across reality. I have so many different faces and names now.


    "But all of them want only the best for everyone."


    The hatred surged within Nendas again, and he slashed at her arm. Yet Jaha laughed as he did it. "Stop, that tickles."


    "I doubt it is supposed to tickle, Jaha," said Elranor.


    "You should try flying again. But only if it does not hurt you," said Jaha.


    Nendas managed to draw back himself, mastering the anger. Little by little, he was able to gain more control. Looking up at the tree above them, he tried to fly. As he went into the air, he found the instincts coming to him. Yet he fell and hit the ground again. Standing up, he was picked up by Jaha again.


    And he tried again, adjusting from what he had done. And he wondered if what he was doing now was real. Did this place even exist? When was he, and where was he?


    Was his presence here changing anything? Or was this simply some dying dream?


    "Um... are you sure you want to keep doing this?" asked Jaha.


    Nendas tried again, feeling more and more like a puppet on strings than a being with control over his own power. Once again, he fell and hit the ground, only to be raised. "Good, you got a little bit off the air that time. Try again.


    "You have the knowledge you need; you just need to get into practice."


    Nendas tried once again and got a bit off the ground. Another try saw him soar, and a gust of wind went under his wings. Flying up to the upper branches of the trees, he landed and planted his talons. There they gripped as he felt the thing within him take hold again. He glared down at Jaha, low below.


    Somehow, though she was farther from him, the Goddess did not seem any smaller. She smiled proudly and raised her arms outward as if to accept an embrace.


    "I''m so proud of you," said Jaha. "Now come down, Nendas."


    The words came as a command, and Nendas tried to heed it. However, that force within him, Jaha herself, strained to keep him in place. Nendas fought against it, trying to descend.


    "From the looks of things, he isn''t keen to return to his cage," said Elranor.


    "But I need to take him with me where I''m going," said Jaha, brushing aside her dark hair from before silver eyes. "Um... Nendas, please come down; I don''t want to have to make a command of this. It is sort of important that you come with me."


    Nendas tried to descend. He fought against Jaha''s will within him. Was it Jaha? Who else could it be? How could she not be aware of this?


    Jaha sighed, and her voice was one of infinite disappointment and understanding. "...Fine, I guess you always did have problems knowing what was best for you.


    "Nendas, I''m going to be very disappointed in you if you don''t come down to my hand here."


    He was trying!


    But Jaha herself was restraining him from following her own order. He could feel a conflict within, and she seemed to notice his defiance. For a moment, she halted and looked around, her shining eyes gazing at the other birds.


    There was a call, a similar one.


    "Oh, um..." Jaha sighed. "Well, he always was a slow learner. Nendas, you... you really can''t hide from me in that tree, you know. You see...


    "I am the tree."


    And he looked around to see the bars of his cage once again. And Jaha stood above him, greater and more beautiful than ever. "This entire dimension is an extension of me, Nendas. And this dimension extends across time and space. You haven''t really been moving at all; you''ve simply been changing your perception of me.


    "No matter how hard you beat your wings or where you fly, I will always be with you. No matter how many people you hurt or the temples you burned down, I will always love you. You will be here with me no matter how many eternities and ages pass.


    "I know you can''t be held responsible for your action, so I will keep you warm and safe with me.


    "For all eternity."


    "I think he might prefer an eternity in fire," noted Elranor.


    "Well, yes," said Jaha, shifting. "I know that you enjoyed that kind of thing, Nendas. But um... it''s not healthy, so I won''t let you have it."


    "But you will put him in a cage?" asked Elranor, who seemed to be playing the role of advocate.


    "If he doesn''t disobey me, he can fly wherever he wants," said Jaha. "Now come on, Nendas. We have a very special place to go to."


    Nendas was getting very sick of having no control over his own life.


    *This inconsistency is a matter of adaptation.


    Tanith made no effort to compile the texts into a consistent narrative. Rather she translated it according to her interpretation. The earlier texts portrayed Nendas as devoted, cunning, and composed. This one seems to have regarded him as far more bloodthirsty.


    My guess is that the first source portrays Nendas as a role model. At the same time, the second source portrays him as a fallen sinner in need of redemption.

 Chapter 120 - Seventeen: The Mountain of the Gods

    The mountain loomed above them with steep and thankless slopes. The moon rose high and full above them. Snowfall fell upon them from high, and no star could be perceived in the darkness. Beneath his fur cap, Rokas could see nothing from Kulat he recognized. Elranor''s guidance had left him wondering where he was on the map. He pulled his white fur cloak closer around him and walked on as winds higher than anything he''d felt tore at him. Never in all his journeys had he seen such a gale. Yet Elranor walked on steadily, and Rokas found that he could bear it in his presence. Rokas wondered how Taha or Nendas would have handled this. But then, would either of them have followed Elranor? Perhaps, but it would have to be under the right circumstances. However, that might be true for Rokas as well. He missed his friends.


    What he knew was that this place was not on any map and stood high above the horizon. Rokas scaled up the stones as quickly as possible, following Elranor''s footsteps. Higher and steeper it went. The wind and snow became all the more terrible as darkness crept over the image of the moon. Now the night was coming on, and Rokas wondered if he could continue. His hands were going cold.


    Rokas was now following an enemy he had persecuted into the darkness. But surely Elranor could have killed him if he so desired. Would it be right to ask questions? "Where are we going? Why scale this mountain?"


    "Only by reaching the top of this mountain will you ever be able to find the Divine Gate," said Elranor. "It is not an easy place to reach. And no mortal has ever scaled to it without assistance from a deity. You need not fear attack; however, violence is not tolerated in this mountain."


    "And what, then, when we have found the gate?" asked Rokas.


    "I will allow you entrance, but you must find your way back. I am needed elsewhere," said Elranor.


    "Have you been to other worlds, then?" asked Rokas.


    "Many," said Elranor. "Many more than you will walk upon. Though not always as I am now. And my sole interest is in exploring this one before I finish. Now come, we''ve work to do."


    "Where are we?" asked Rokas.


    "In Themious, Rokas, in the northern and wild reaches that even the Amazons do not tread," said Elranor. "We have gone long and far together, though you could not see it."


    The air became thinner as they reached the knees of the mountain, and the snow was thick around his knees. It was utterly dark now, save for Elranor. The moon had vanished entirely, and Rokas groped in vain across the fridged lands. He looked down; it was a mistake, for one wrong move could see him fall. Was it miles down to that land below? There would be no surviving such a fall. But Elranor trudged ahead, leaving footprints in the sod that glowed with light. Yet Rokas would fall through the snows Elranor could step upon. He was floundering through waist-high snowbanks. It was all he could do to force his wayward. He bitterly missed Taha and Nendas but was not eager to find them. He''d only be bringing them back to die as things were going.


    But the lives of everyone in Tarasif relied on what he was doing, perhaps even their souls. However, Rokas reflected that all of this might be for naught. Taha would never sacrifice herself for anyone, and Nendas, it seemed, was past such a stage. He was bitter and angry and might refuse out of spite.


    Perhaps that was the only reason the sacrifice had meaning. Rokas thought they faced a terrible end. One for which they would receive neither thanks nor recognition.


    It was too much. Elranor had halted, and Rokas could no longer force himself forward. The god turned to him, face impassive.


    "The night is darker now," gasped Rokas, trying not to collapse. His lungs were overburdened, and the air that entered them was freezing. "I am...


    "I am having trouble breathing. I can go no longer."


    "Of course you are," said Elranor. "The air in this place is too thin for a mortal to breathe. But Gods need no air to walk; they breathe the essence of life itself. And that is strong here.


    "Take hold of my hand and mark my footsteps, and I shall sustain you. You shall find winter''s rage will trouble you less."


    Elranor offered a hand that glowed in the light, and Rokas hesitated as he saw it, wondering about the price. But then, what price had any of Elranor''s actions had yet? Rokas took the hand of death. As he did, he felt his lungs fill with something, and it filled his body. He felt... wonderful.


    Scaling higher, he stepped in the footsteps and found that as he did, heat rushed up to fill him. Nor did the snows yield to him. It was in the very snows Elranor had trod upon. It filled Rokas with warmth as his lungs were filled with air. So they walked onward beneath foreign stars in a wasteland of snow.*


    On they went, ever further higher and closer to the peak in the clouds above. Even so, Rokas felt he was unsure of the plan. "Once I have gotten past the Divine Gate, how may I locate Nendas and Taha?"


    "It will be difficult," said Elranor. "You must find your guide on your way out of here. I recommend going after Jaha first."


    "Why her first?" asked Rokas.


    "It will be the easiest," said Elranor. "Once you free one of them, I promise you the Gods shall be alerted to your presence. Jaha is not one to become violent, preferring to kill with kindness. And Nendas is not in human form at the moment.


    "Tamar, on the other hand, is a far more bloodthirsty creature. She is likely to slaughter you as soon as she catches you. You''ll want to run from her for as little time as possible.


    "Once you get back into this domain, I shall provide you with cover from her. But you must not be caught while in the Divine Realm, or you''ll be lucky to join your friends."


    "How will I get out, then?" asked Rokas.


    "You need not take the front gate," said Elranor. "The Divine Realm has only one entrance you mortals can use in this world. Yet there are many exits. I do not know them all, but my brother can lead you to one. Things will be in his hands once you pass over to the other side."


    "Why is there a Divine Gate anyway?" asked Rokas. "Surely you can come and go as you please."


    "Several reasons which do not come into this matter," said Elranor. "Suffice it to say that the Incarnation of the Land chose to make the ascent to the divine a literal journey. Most worlds do not have one." And at last, they reached the top of a plateau leading toward a flat wall. "It is why Zeya choose to build her palace at the peak of it.


    "Though is high enough that no mortal could climb so far.


    "But enough of this; the Divine Gate stands before us."


    "...I do not see it," said Rokas.


    "That is because you are looking only with your eyes," said Elranor. "Step back from your preconceptions of reality and gaze upon the true nature of things."


    Rokas paused and remembered his meditations. Closing his eyes, he focused his mind, releasing his attachments. Then he opened them, looked at the wall, and began to see the shimmering outline of a gate. The more he saw it, the clearer it became, and he nodded. Beyond was a great forest. "I see it."


    "You''d best go soon. Or else someone will notice us," said Elranor.


    "Yes, thank you, Elranor!" said Rokas before racing through the gate. "I shall not forget your kindness!"


    There was a wrenching as he passed beyond. And Rokas found that some presence seemed to be fighting him. Every step he took became more of a labor, and it seemed to him that he was walking through a translucent passage. Yet there was nothing around it save a sort of grayness, and the further he walked, the more he ached in body and soul. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Some power was setting itself against him, though he fought tooth and nail to move forward. His progress was slowing. And it only got slower as he trudged onward, little by little breaking into sweat. His vision blurred, his body ached, and he could hardly think.


    Rokas thought about Taha, held captive by Tamar, and was able to fight on a few steps. Then a few steps more. He thought about his debt to her, for her saving his life, and knew he had to repay it. This got him a few steps further, despite little apparent progress.


    On and on he went until the memory of Taha turned to their many conversations. Her concern for him, though it was a warped thing. He thought of the torments she might be undergoing in Tamar''s grip, which got him further. Then his memories of their work as acrobats and their time as soldiers got him a little further.


    But the enemy, whatever was facing him, was fighting harder and more viciously than ever. Rokas took this to mean that it had limited strength, for why else would it only hit him with weaker power?


    Whatever the reason, the memories of Taha began to fade. He thought of her instability, her ruthlessness. And he thought of her endless disrespect for the gods. Soon the path was solidifying again. It was almost pushing him back.


    But he must go forward for Nendas as well. For Nendas had done no wrong, or very little at least. He had been caught in games beyond his comprehension, and he had tried to behave honorably. Time and again, he would have left life behind and become good if only Samrasa had been as good as his word. If only they had not been in fear of death.


    His points during their discussions with Taha had always been better than Rokas''. Without him, Taha might have won in the field of debate many times. Perhaps he could redeem Taha in time if only he could be freed. But now he was becoming sick as he thought of the death of Ralign and the damnation of Munrus.


    Was Nendas truly so guiltless? Perhaps he had not been looking for a way out nearly as much as he claimed. And Rokas, gradually, had his pace slow again as the path fought him all the harder. How long must he march in this place?


    Could he go further? His strength was waning, and he could not think of anything else to fight for. All his efforts had gained him only a little traction. It had called down still greater resistance. But what of himself? Why should he lose his family, friends, and now his city? He''d had as little choice as Nendas, perhaps less. At least Nendas had been allowed to choose whether to accept Jaha.


    Rokas had never had a choice with what he was.


    That got him further, yet Rokas knew he had so much to go.


    What else could he use to fuel his movement?


    What of Tarasif? What of all the people that would die if he did not succeed? What of all the people who would lose relatives in the city? All of them had their hopes, dreams, and desires. Each one would leave behind many people who mourned them. It would leave a gaping hole in their lives.


    Every one of them would lose more than Nendas, Rokas, or Taha. All their lives were connected, and with every severing of a bond, harm was done to many. To destroy Tarasif would annihilate so many bonds that it would scar the land. To allow its destruction might be just, but Rokas had the means to save those people.


    And to save them, he must save Taha and Nendas.


    And at last, he could run, forcing through the last wall and breaking through to the realm of the gods. As he moved through the pages of reality, he perceived all things around him and nothing at all. Reality and unreality made one, with all that could have happened and all that had happened. He saw faced, reading words over endless hours. Some were transfixed by what they saw. Others were disgusted or bored, and some cast what they perceived away. Yet the memory of what had been perceived remained. It was real in some sense, entering their mind and influencing them. Yet some forget what they saw and never had it come to mind. Yet it did not matter.


    Rokas was here to save Nendas and Taha. And he would not be stopped. Though his world might be an illusion, as Taha claimed, it was no less important. For Rokas, Nendas and Taha existed for a purpose and must fulfill that purpose well. Even if they and all they have never existed, the perception of them would alter those who had it. And to alter them for the worse would be the worst of crimes. Yet to inspire them, to delight them. To convince those real beings, wherever they existed in reality, to be greater. That would be a worthy existence.


    Were these observers he saw around him real? Were any of them real? Had he conjured them up and perceived them as a shadow of his thoughts? Taha would think so. Nendas would dismiss his thoughts as absurd.


    Nendas was too practical.


    In the end, it did not matter.


    The world was an illusion. And it must be saved.*


    *I don''t think Elranor can do this.


    For one thing, he has always been associated with cold, death, and healing. The ability to create heat seems antithetical to his nature. Do what you will; all gods have specific qualities that are part of what they are. And Elranor, though benevolent and wise, does not have a very nice powerset.


    Anyone who has worked in a healing house can tell you what horrors you''ll find there. And death needs no introduction.


    This power seems more like something Barden might have. Being the god of trade and civilization. Perhaps this document substituted Barden for Elranor? It would not be the first time a story consolidated the actions of several characters into one.


    *Without Rokas, I should have abandoned this project; damn Tanith''s nagging. Despite his flaws, he is the only person in this miserable state of affairs who can be considered good.


    Taha is dangerously deranged and seems to lack a moral compass of any kind. Only the disapproval of her friends keeps her from being a monster. Nendas tries to be good, but his desire for revenge drives him to the unthinkable.


    Rokas though... Despite being victimized by his family and cheated by Samrasa, he holds no grudge. In some sense, even his friends, Taha and Nendas, have wronged him. Rokas is treated as a subordinate or equal when his blood and rank are higher. Yet he takes whatever role the universe for have for him and does what is right.


    It is appropriate that he should be the ultimate hero of this story.

 Chapter 121 - Eighteen: Chained

    Taha had been in prison since time out of mind. The walls around her had gradually shifted to take on a bloodstained tone. Looking at her hair, she''d seen that it had become brighter, like those of Tamar''s priestesses.


    It was one more violation.


    Even now, she felt Tamar''s will coursing through her mind, drawing up memories of blood. It focused more and more on the carnage Taha had wrought in battle. However, there was a real enjoyment within it. Taha let the visions flow through her, even as she contemplated how best to respond. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Submission.


    Feign submission until an opportunity for escape appeared. But, if Taha had gotten Tamar''s interest before, perhaps some defiance.


    So Taha waited until the door opened, and Tamar entered, clad in black armor. She looked at Taha narrowly. "So, I''m back. Anything to say?"


    "...Yes," said Taha, contemplating her best move. "I''m sorry."


    Tamar smiled. "And?"


    "I didn''t think my actions would hurt you the way they did," said Taha simply. "And I''m very sorry."


    "I know you don''t mean a word of it, you know," said Tamar, smirking.


    "What am I supposed to say?" asked Taha simply. "Do you want me to be glad you did this to me? I''m trying to give you what you want.


    "But if you''re expecting me to beg, you''ll be disappointed."


    "Fine, I''ll call it a start. I guess you''re sorry you got caught," said Tamar with a shrug. "How long are you planning on staying in this cell, Taha?"


    "As long as you force me to stay here," replied Taha.


    "Good," said Tamar. "Then I''ll give you two options. One, you can be my pet. Two, you can be my slave."


    "What''s the difference?" asked Taha.


    "A pet doesn''t have any responsibilities," said Tamar. "A pet can lie around all day, be taken care of, and amuses its master by its existence. All it has to do is show proper affection; it will be loved and adored.


    "Just look at your friend Nendas." And she motioned. A vision appeared, and Tamar saw Nendas trapped within a cage.


    "Nendas! He..." Taha halted. "He''d never choose to be a pet?!"


    "Nendas has been Jaha''s pet since the day he was branded; the feathers and cage made it official," said Tamar. "She gave him free use of her power to a degree that was astounding.


    "I mean, he literally snapped and opened a portal to hell for a blood relative, and she thought of it as endearing. Although that might have been at least her split personalities."


    "How can you do this to people?" asked Taha.


    "Humans do far worse to each other," said Tamar with a shrug. "And you''ve gotten so good at it that you decided to try and cut us out of the universe we created. It''s only natural for us to respond.


    "If you''d tried the same stunt on a King, you''d have been executed or worse.


    "Also, your city is going to be ashes for a while. But cities used to get burned down all the time. So it was bound to start happening again later.


    "Sometimes you need a fire to burn out all the deadwood, or you get a worse one later. Alchara found that out the hard way.


    "In any case, if you want to be my pet, I''m sure I can pick out a nice animal transformation for you. Maybe a dog, or cat, or even a human if you''d prefer it that way. I kind of like the idea of keeping this form on a leash.


    "Now, your other option is to become my slave.


    "It''s similar in result, but you''ll get a lot less luxury, and you''ll have to earn your keep. But, well, slaves may have the ability to earn my favor. And my favor can be a very valuable thing.


    "So, what''ll it be?"


    Taha considered her response, and there was only one possible answer. "...Go to hell."


    "What did you just say?" asked Tamar, growling.


    "I said go to hell," said Taha. "If you''re going to kill me, do it. If you''re going, trap me here until I go insane, fine. You''re well on your way to doing it. You can do whatever you want with me because I can''t do anything to stop you.


    "Now you''re pretending to give me a choice. But it doesn''t matter my choice; you''ll still be in control. If I say I want to be a pet, and you decide to use me as a maid, who am I going to take my grievance to?"


    "I don''t think you get what I''m saying, Taha," said Tamar. "I am a Goddess and can do whatever I want with you. No one will stop me.


    "I''m merely giving you a choice out of courtesy."


    "And what assurances do I have? You won''t decide you want me as a pet if I choose to be a slave or the other way around?" asked Taha.


    "You have none," said Tamar.


    "Then why don''t you just admit that, Tamar?" asked Taha simply. "You write the rules, and you change them when they aren''t convenient for you. And I have no choice but to play along, or you''ll do worse to me.


    "You do whatever you want to do, Tamar. I''ll do whatever you say.


    "But no matter what you do or how powerful you are, you are no god."


    Taha turned to look at Tamar, who met her gaze and held it for a moment. Taha felt her will contesting her own, and they pressed against one another. Finally, Tamar looked away. "...Ah, right, I''d forgotten that you''ve been clinging to this atheist delusion. You''re talking about an imaginary Tamar. A sort of crazed stalker who is keeping you locked in a dark room and drugging you."


    "You are keeping me in the dark room and drugging me," said Taha. "Maybe it''s not a drug given through food or drink. But whether it''s done by magic or by chemicals, the effect is the same.


    "Does it really matter how you''re giving me the thing that makes me hallucinate?"


    "It''s not a hallucination," said Tamar incredulously. "All of those things are real. You''re just so dedicated to denying that they are real that you are attributing them to madness. I gave you this cell because you wanted to be in a cell so you''d be more comfortable.


    "Your perception of me as a crazed stalker is the reason this is so unpleasant! This place could be a palace of flowing water and gardens. You could be sleeping on the softest beds and clad in silk, and yet you refuse to view me as anything but a jailor."


    Taha stood up and dusted herself off. "Can I leave this place?"


    "You''ll leave when I say you can leave!" said Tamar.


    "Then you are my jailor," replied Taha. "Whether the walls are painted a different color doesn''t actually matter."


    Tamar went flush, her cheeks bright red as she strove for words. "...I''m not going to debate this with you.


    "You want me to pick for you, fine. Follow me."


    And she turned to follow, and Taha had to walk behind her. It was second nature to obey Tamar as though she were a mere extension of her. Taha hurried after Tamar into a vast hall of gray stone with many horrific visions of horror on them. Pictures of human sacrifice, brutal bloodletting, and also a wind god clad in black armor.


    Not Tamar, though he seemed to take up women from the ground.


    "Who is it on these walls?" asked Taha.


    "My Father," said Tamar. "Fortenex. Don''t expect him to pay any visits while we''re here. I became Goddess of the Eastern Winds by my own hand. Though I technically act as a proxy for the domain of winds and war in Themious.


    "Even so, my power is growing, and soon I shall no longer be a vassal."


    "That''s uh... very impressive," said Taha, noticing pictures that were more peaceful. Many of them were covered in dust, however. "I don''t recognize this architecture. None of these buildings were made in Themious or Tarasif or anywhere else I know." They seemed to be tree houses but very majestic in nature and elegantly carved. Taha saw a group of peasants, humans, laboring in fields with houses of stone, all under the gaze of proud elven warriors in shining males with curved swords.


    Who were the green-skinned creatures the elves were fighting here, though? They were huge and muscular and seemed to spawn from cauldrons.


    "Very good," said Tamar. "These are from ancient days, long ago.


    "I had high hopes for you, you know.


    "Although you''ve been quite useful without knowing it. You''ve done an excellent job of spreading the word about my techniques. My converts have increased greatly. You should be proud."


    "What do you want me to do?" asked Taha.


    Tamar shrugged. "I want you to clean this entire hall. Every inch of the floor and walls. Wash the ceiling."


    "Can I have some tools?" asked Taha.


    "Of course," said Tamar, and a bucket filled with water and a sponge appeared. "You don''t think I''d expect you to do it with your bare hands, do you?"


    "I wouldn''t put it past you," said Taha.


    "Look, I don''t need you to do this, okay!" said Tamar, distressed. "I could clean it all with a sweep of my hand!


    "But you wanted something to do with your time. I think this would be healthier than moping around in the darkness. This is for your benefit, not mine! This realm is created from your mindscape anyway, filtered through our connection.


    "...Fine, whatever you say," said Taha.


    Snatching up the tools, she got to work in bitterness. The dust and soot were far worse than they appeared. And the hall was huge so that there was still more of it every time she thought she''d finished it. Years of endless training. Including efforts trying to move herself to a position of influence. And this was how it ended. Or how it went on anyway.


    It had always been this tedious. Climbing the ranks was just a distraction.


    Taha doubted suicide was much of an option, so she just worked. As she did, she contemplated the reasons for the bloody visages. Why was she so focused on them? There were many more pleasant images here. Yet, she always ended up focusing on slaves and servants in them, for those were the humans.


    Gradually she began to piece together a general story from them.


    It was her own. Many times over.


    Once upon a time, a servant girl dwelled in the palace of a mighty elf lord. Loyal and hardworking, she cleaned and did her duties perfectly. She was treated kindly and observed events as they happened. And all the while, she waited and dreamed of something more.


    But she never got anything more.


    No one ever considered her worthy of higher responsibilities, and no crisis ever arrived. None that she was in a position to help. And since elves had a much slower perception of time, events passed in the blink of an eye. She grew old and died alone.


    And she was never noticed by anyone. On the contrary, her presence was hardly missed, for humans died so quickly.


    "Not a very good beginning," noted Tamar. "You know, most people deviate from what they are supposed to do a little in their first life."


    Taha finished the floor, only to realize there were many pieces of it in need of cleaning. And so she worked at it still and saw more of what had been.


    Once upon a time, a servant girl dwelled in a castle, working to clean and cook. Yet though she worked hard and was kindly treated, she was beneath notice. Her attempts to impress her master only gained mild approval. And she feared growing old and die alone.


    But the elves had a rule that men did not inhabit their domains. It was to prevent them from becoming populated by humans.


    So, she decided to run away.


    Gathering supplies, the girl escaped into the night. There she was immediately eaten by wolves. When the elves learned of it, they made no attempt at vengeance. Though unfortunate, one foolish human was worth far less than a majestic creature like a wolf.


    "One wonders why the humans disliked them," noted Tamar.


    Once upon a time, there was a human farmgirl who hated the elves. Yet, no opportunity for revenge ever presented itself. She was weaker than them, short-lived, and all the land was against them. To draw water, she had to bow and scrape to the good spirits.


    They could not lay axes to any trees, and so their farmland was constantly decreasing. The Incarnation of the Land was their representative. Sometimes they arranged for the spirits to lay off. But he never pushed back, and so over the years, the lands of the humans shrank. Bitterness and rage were contained by fear until the day she died from a broken leg. She''d asked the wind to bring her help, but the elven guards did not care.


    So she died alone.


    "Living in fear is, more or less, what it means to be a slave," noted Tamar.


    "Why am I a peasant in all of these?" asked Taha.


    "The aristocracy is a very small part of the population," said Tamar simply. "And before Anoa the Bright, those who weren''t aristocrats were bound to the land. Any attempt by a human to do anything was scrutinized."


    "Who is Anoa the Bright?" asked Taha.


    "You''d like him," said Tamar with a laugh.


    Once upon a time, a human girl saw all hell break loose.


    The Incarnation of the Land died in a far-off land. War and rumors of war came from the east, and the Gods themselves went at it. Dragons scorched the earth as blood ran in rivers across the world. But she was an ordinary person with no training or experience, and there was nothing she could do.


    Her village was burned, she fled into the wilderness. No one came to help her, and she thirsted to death, begging a river spirit to give her water. And only the wind knew of it.


    "I filled that river with corpses, you know," said Tamar. "It dried up completely."


    "Thank you," said Taha.


    Once upon a time, there were two servant girls that often dreamed that they were Princesses. Though they knew the only Princess was any daughter, the Queen would have. But, in time, the Queen ordered her friend killed.


    The servant girl helped her escape and saw her of. And she dreamed that maybe she would be given some great role in things when she came back.


    Nothing of the sort happened.


    The Queen disappeared, and her friend never came back. Someone else took power, and she was forgotten¡ªjust a footnote in someone else''s story.


    Eventually, she was raped by the new Lord and forced to be his mistress.


    "You um... you don''t have to work nonstop," said Tamar. "If you want to take a break now and then, that''s fine. I can also provide you with food and drink if you want. Though you really don''t need to eat here."


    Taha considered that. "Is this one of those stories where I accidentally bind myself here by eating your food?"


    "No," laughed Tamar. "You''re already bound here."


    She was hungry and thirsty. "I''d like some bread and wine if you don''t mind. I haven''t eaten anything in a long time."


    "Oh, yes, right, sure," said Tamar, motioning. "Go ahead and eat it; I won''t rush you."


    Taha did eat. As she did, she saw another story unfolding.


    Once upon a time, there had been a warrior maiden of a large group of barbarian tribes. Free and proud, their lands faced incursion by hordes of satyrs. More than anything, she longed to die in glorious battle. All so she might be admitted into the warrior elite of Fortenex.


    And so she joined her men in marching to war. But, rushing to face them in glorious battle, they were ambushed. She was shot in the back before she could even draw her sword. She died in a puddle of her own blood without even having a chance to strike a blow.


    Then her friend, who no one took much notice of, was cut down as she stooped over the corpse. That was who Taha had been.


    "Where is everyone else in this place anyway?" asked Taha, wolfing down her food. It was good.


    "Oh, this is my personal domain. Or rather, your part of it," said Tamar. "No one comes here without my will. I mean, I guess there are the high heavens for my worshippers. They are a subdimension of my Father, Fortenex''s domain.


    "But I''ve only ever brought people up here who get my attention."


    "And how many of them are there?" asked Taha.


    Tamar paused. "Well, just you. My priestesses can come up here, but they do so as an extension of me.


    "I mean, it''s not like I like you or anything. You happened to be the first to get me legitimately angry," And she looked away.


    Wonderful, so the psychotic monster has a crush on her. "Really?


    "So of all the people who ever left your religion, I''m the one you decided to kidnap and torture."


    "You''re the only one who got as far as being a high priestess without even having a hint of belief in me," said Tamara. "Usually, you have to have some faith to get people to accept you as a priestess.


    "How did you even do it anyway?


    "I thought you were one of my most faithful subjects this time."


    "Because I really wanted to learn to throw knives, obviously," said Taha. "When I learned from my instructors, I paid close attention and put my all into it. When I was at prayers, I performed them devoutly out of respect for them. My parents brought me up to never waste the time of one you want to learn from.


    "It would have been disrespectful."


    "Well, what about me?" asked Tamar. "What kind of respect did you show me?"


    "I didn''t think you existed," said Taha. "And I''d learned about everything your cult had to teach. I wanted to get some practical experience in using it."


    "Well, that was a big mistake," said Tamar.


    Taha drank the wine quickly. "Yes, I know.


    "How did you even find me anyway? You waited years to come down and turn me into a slave?"


    "You invoked me, obviously," said Tamar. "I knew where you were the entire time.


    "I usually keep tabs on you. Heck, you were practically challenging me to come and prove to you that I existed. I''ll bet you did it because you subconsciously wanted me to judge you."


    "Well, that was a big mistake," said Taha.


    "Faithlessness is a fate worse than death," said Tamar.


    "For you, maybe," said Taha. "I had a good thing going back home, Tamar. I was the personal friend of a very powerful man. Nendas was on the verge of killing off his brat of a cousin and getting himself reinstated as heir. A few more days, and we''d have been very powerful."


    "Yeah, why do you think I swept you off your feet so quickly?" asked Tamar. "You talk about kin slaying like it''s nothing special. If things had gone as you''d hoped, you two would have become very evil, very fast."


    "That''s not true," said Taha.


    "Oh really?" asked Tamar. "How many people have you assassinated on Samrasa''s orders? Haven''t you spent years helping to murder the faithful? Do you really think you''d have stopped once you got power?


    "You''re lucky I grabbed you.


    "If I hadn''t, you''d probably be somewhere a lot lower. Now you''d better get back to work."


    Taha did get back to work.


    Once upon a time, there was a Prince who had everything he could have ever wanted but was spoiled and vicious. One day, an old woman came to the door and asked for shelter from a wind storm. The Prince refused her because of her looks. But the beggar asked again and warned that beauty was only skin deep.


    At this point, one of the servant girls decided there were two possibilities;


    Either this person was what they appeared, or they were not. If they were an old beggar woman, she''d be dead soon anyway. But if she wasn''t, then she was some kind of supernatural power, and they''d punish the whole castle.


    The peasant did not want to pay the price for her Lord''s stupidity, drew out a knife, and cut his throat. Then she opened the door for her, handed her the knife, and let her take the blame for it. The fairy was so surprised that she couldn''t do much more than vanish in a flash, which did nothing to help her case.


    At which point, the servant girl made a run for it and was immediately eaten by wolves.


    "Why do I die in all of these," said Taha.


    "Technically speaking, everyone who lives dies," said Tamar. "This was the life that really my attention. Before that, you were a curiosity."


    "...What happened to Nendas?" asked Taha.


    "Well, after I took you away, he contemplated murdering his cousin like you wanted him to," said Tamar. "But, Nendas could not bring himself to do it.


    "But, once he refused to go all the way, his conscience caught up with him. Then he found out I''d taken you, and things got bad. He ended up wandering into the woods, having a complete breakdown.


    "Fortunately for him, he''s Jaha''s pet."


    "What do you mean by that? Nendas hates Jaha, even if he would never admit it," said Taha. "Being made the Avatar was the worst thing ever to him. His entire life fell apart because of it."


    "That''s unconditional love for you, Taha," said Tamar. "Jaha doesn''t view him as an equal; she views him as a pet. When you have a pet cat, and you rub its belly too much, now and then, it scratches you. Well, Nendas'' attempts to hurt her were about as significant as a cat that had been declawed.


    "But Jaha doesn''t see people. She sees excuses for why they are bad."


    Taha didn''t care, but Tamar seemed to want to talk about it. Play along. "What do you mean?"


    "Well, if you have someone who murdered a man for money, I''d order him hung," said Tamar. "But Jaha would say that the murderer was really a victim. After all, he''d never have needed to kill someone for money if he''d had the money to live on. And he''d have had the money to live on if he hadn''t had such an anger problem. And if he''d not been hit by his father, then he''d never have had that anger problem.


    "Etc, etc, etc.


    "People are not the result of their choices to Jaha. Everyone is simply a passive observer in their own life story, a victim of original sin."


    "So what''s going to happen to Nendas?" asked Taha.


    "My guess?" asked Tamar. "She''s going to keep him like that forever. Usually, people get to reincarnate now and then after a time in hell. But Nendas isn''t in hell; he''s wrapped up warm in the arms of a goddess. One which will never forget or abandon him. She will never get angry with him or make him suffer consequences in any way.


    "Nothing he can do can hurt or alienate her, and she''ll never stop tending to him. And as one of her favorites, she''ll never release him. Eventually, he''ll just be a passive observer in the body of a loyal hawk."


    "Why would he be one of her favorites?" asked Taha. "They couldn''t be more different."


    "Because he''s the antithesis of what she wants her followers to act like," said Tamar. "Remember, committing grave sins to her is just being a victim. So in her mind, Nendas''s actions are not a result of willful malice but rather of being confused and deluded. And a danger to himself and others.


    "And, to be honest, I think she''s infatuated with him.


    "But she''d never have the guts to just flat out make him her slave. And, frankly, I think she gets a thrill from feeling his spirit break. So instead, she''ll keep him safe, loved, and helpless for all eternity."


    Taha looked down and thought about what to do.


    And she saw another life.


    Her life.


    She was old.


    Her body was fresh and new, but her spirit was ancient. Most mortals found their place by the time of their third life. To have gone through this many was unheard of.


    She''d been hollowed out. No youth or zest for life remained. Every attempt to be something or something had ended the same way. And she was kept here, torn between a fear of damnation and hatred of heaven. All that inflamed her passions anymore was raw, brutal violence.


    She tried to tell herself it would be better to live a simple life. For that life had not been bad at all, unlike the others. She was the daughter of a major landowner; she''d marry someone of great influence. Yet, it meant nothing to her.


    The world was counterfeit and worthless.


    Taha now found that her happy surroundings were intolerable to her. She held no grudge against those around her, but she couldn''t bear to remain with them. Their existence galled her, knowing she should care for them, but didn''t. And so she left, abandoned everything to seek meaning in some way.


    If she was to die, then at least she could die free of distractions.


    Had she been seeking meaning in the cults she visited? Or was she seeking some means to triumph over the gods?


    But it did not matter.


    She was nothing.


    Just a lens. Light that shone through her could be seen and perhaps change by the angle. But there was no light within her. There was no love to give; the fuel had burned out long ago in endless, hopeless hours of waiting in humiliation. And now, the same was happening to Nendas.


    She could not let it happen.


    "....I need to help him," said Taha suddenly.


    "You need to finish the job I gave you," said Tamar. "I''m not Jaha. You''re not going to get infinite understanding from me combined with a pat on the head. You took advantage of me before and became a professional murderer, so now you get to be my slave.


    "And believe me, it could have been far worse. I heard Melchious took an interest in Nendas'' operations."


    "Melchious?!" asked Taha, voice horrified. "He... he''s real too."


    "Yeah. And whatever stories you''ve heard about, they are true," said Tamar.


    "...Can I..." Taha halted and then bowed. "May I ask a favor, Queen Tamar?"


    "I like being called Queen. What is it?" asked Tamar, smiling.


    "Could you send a message to Rokas in my hometown," said Taha. "Tell him... tell him what has happened to Nendas. I mean, I want to get away from this, but... Nendas has it so much worse."


    "He''s already busy planning to storm the gates of the Underworld, I believe," said Tamar. "But I''ll tell him what is going on, on one condition."


    "Yes?" asked Taha.


    "No escape attempts," said Tamar. "They won''t work anyway. Are we agreed?"


    Taha nodded. "...Yes."


    "Great," said Tamar before motioning. "Here''s your collar and cat ears."


    Taha felt a tingling and struggled as she found ears growing from the top of her head. Struggling, she found a collar at her neck with a bell. At the same time, a tail grew from behind her back. "Get this off me!"


    "Nah, I like the way you look with cat ears and a tail," said Tamar. "Now keep working; I''ll have food sent to you soon enough. I''ve got some visitors to meet."

 Chapter 122 - Nineteen: Release

    Jaha''s domain had begun to grate on Nendas an eternity ago.


    He spent his days being given opportunities to fly into the heights of the air and around. And each time, he had to return to Jaha''s hand. Attempts to stay away from her led to him being in her hand again. Often she would feed him meat, though he did not see any animals for her to slay.


    It was not unpleasant, but it was limiting. Jaha thought it was of vast importance. She was very beautiful, kind, and wonderful, but he found it infuriating to be like this.


    He was an animal and could not feel the rage he ought to. Often she would hold him close to her chest, and he did not peck at her. It would not do any good. Even so, it began to make him feel crushed, though at least what he was being crushed against was soft and firm. It was not completely unpleasant.


    But it was dull.


    And then Elranor returned, appearing like a blizzard within the domain. And beneath his coming, the air became chill.


    "Oh, Elranor, you''re here," said Jaha.


    "Hello, Jaha. I''m glad the cage has been dispensed with," said Elranor. "Do you intend to keep him as a pet?"


    "Oh, um... I guess so," said Jaha. "But I prefer to regard my pets as a family instead of people. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "But he hasn''t acted up at all lately. I''d thought his defiance would stay."


    "I can''t imagine why," said Elranor. He motioned, and the green fields were covered beneath falling snow. Nendas wondered what the symbolism in the act was or if it was merely personal preference. Jaha did not seem to mind either way.


    "I think he''s still confused," said Jaha. "He keeps trying to escape me, even though this place is where he truly belongs. But that''s okay; I''ll keep him with me wrapped up warm until he accepts it.


    "So, how can I help you, Elranor?"


    "I thought you might be interested to know that Nendas has a friend coming to rescue him," said Elranor.


    "Rescue?" asked Jaha, perplexed. "But why would anyone ever need to be rescued from me?"


    "...Free will is a concept, I suppose," said Elranor ruefully, walking closer. "Be that as it may, he has a good reason for doing so. He offered himself up as a sacrifice to the God of Judgement to save his city. When the God of Judgement was not satiated, he offered to get his friends to volunteer.


    "However, both of his friends are prisoners of different gods. He plans to free them and convince them to sacrifice themselves as well. All this to save their city. Not full recompense for Tarasif''s sins, but the thought alone counts for a great deal."


    "But that would be far too cruel!" said Jaha, voice genuine. "Nendas doesn''t need to return to that awful place again!"


    "I expected you''d say that," said Elranor. "So, I hoped you would convince Tamar to release her capture."


    "You mean that Taha girl?" asked Jaha with a frown. "I never liked the way she lingered around Nendas as she did. There is something off about her soul, an empty hunger. It''s as if she has been hollowed inside.


    "She is like a cipher, or a lens, showing only what passes through her." Nendas would be interested in knowing what that meant. "I''ve only seen such things before in...


    "Well...." She shuddered. "Nevermind.


    "But I suppose she doesn''t deserve to be trapped scrubbing floors. Tamar doesn''t need her for that, but she''s doing her work as a slave. And Tamar has always been awful."


    "I gather there is an element of retribution," said Elranor. "Although I suspect..." He paused and seemed to think better of whatever he would say. "Nevermind.


    "In any case, you must understand that Nendas is partially responsible for the city being in a state of sin. And, while I know you love him, you did not do much to reign him in when he was a mortal."


    "I''d never want to restrict his movements. Not after all those awful things that happened to him," said Jaha. Nendas was finding her more grating by the moment, though he did not hate her.


    "You are keeping him in a cage, Jaha," said Elranor. "Just because it isn''t here does not change the reality."


    "Well, yes, but the cage is of his imagining," said Jaha. "Once he accepts me and is one with me, he will be completely free. He is mine, after all."


    "Yes," said Elranor. "However, Jaha, have you considered that Nendas might not be a follower after your own heart?"


    "Of course, he is, Elranor," said Jaha. "He was my Avatar. The very fact that he survived the process proves he is mine." Resentment surged through Nendas, but it was not his own. Was anything his own, really? What was the benefit of being perpetually in the company of such beauty when you were a hawk?


    Or was he just a cipher himself?


    "Yes, however, that was years before," said Elranor. "You have said that it was a traumatic experience for him. One which led to his violent career as a soldier. Are you certain he belongs here?"


    "Of course," said Jaha, now defensive as the wind howled through her. Her hair flowed around her. "Nendas belongs with me!"


    "Yes, of course, he does," said Elranor, tone now long-suffering. "But, you''ve kept him here a long time, and that cage has not yet weakened. Now and then, you can let him out, but he always returns to the cage.


    "Are you sure that he can become, well... worthy of you in this situation?"


    "Nendas doesn''t need to be worthy of me. I love him no matter who he is or what he does," said Jaha resolutely. What irritated Nendas was that she meant it.


    He wished she''d let him go. Anywhere other than Tarasif would be fine by him. To become something other than what he was now would be all he wanted.


    "I understand that, Jaha, but do you think he is very happy now?" asked Elranor.


    Was Nendas happy?


    It was a question he had never asked himself, and he didn''t begin to know how to answer it. He''d always been distracted by some goal and had never thought beyond it. Revenge on Samrasa was done out of duty more than hatred.


    "Nendas is mine, Elranor. He doesn''t have a choice," said Jaha, and her voice was hard now. "No one will take him from me. I am his benefactor."


    "Yes, I know," said Elranor. "However, wouldn''t you prefer him to be happy serving you? Rather than in a state of perpetual, self-hating despair."


    "He will be happy," said Jaha. "I''ve already seen his hatred and resentment die down. His despair will die soon, and he''ll love me no matter how long I have to wait."


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    "But perhaps it would be better to make it so you don''t have to wait as long?" asked Elranor.


    Jaha eyed him suspiciously. Finally, she sighed. "...Just what are you suggesting, Elranor? You keep acting as though I''m the unreasonable one. Samrasa was ruining Nendas and everyone around him. And Nendas would have ended up as bad as him if things had gone the way they ought to.


    "He''d already gone mad and was alone and dying when I took him. I saved him and healed him. Just what do you want from me?"


    "Give Nendas something to do," said Elranor. "He was a man of action in life and would be happier if he had some kind of responsibility to pursue on your behalf."


    "But then he might try to escape me," said Jaha.


    "Do you think he has enough will leave to disobey your order, Jaha?" asked Elranor. "And even if he does, all you''d have to do is call him back. As one of your avatars, you have a hold on his soul that is broken when you want it broken."


    "But he might get hurt or become worse," said Jaha.


    "Then, at the very least, when you bring him back, he will feel like he accomplished something," said Elranor. "That alone could help your relationship.


    "In any case, I think he has largely healed from his spiritual and physical injuries. He now needs the chance to test them against something on your behalf."


    Jaha looked at Nendas, and he met her gaze. Finally, she looked up. "...Alright, I''ll let Nendas have some sort of responsibility.


    "I''m sure he understands better now anyway." Then she looked to Nendas in the tree and was suddenly near. As she did, Nendas saw her tower above him. Her eyes stared down at him from above. "Nendas, I need you to obey my instructions. Will you do that?"


    Nendas nodded. What other alternative did he have here?


    "Good," said Jaha. "I want you to find your friend, Rokas, and guide him to the domain of Tamar. You know the way now, so it should be fine.


    "But Nendas..."


    Nendas looked at her.


    "If you try to run away from me again, I''m not going to be able to let you out of the cage for a very long time," said Jaha. "I trust you, and if you betray my trust, I have to punish you." Nendas shivered. "Once you''ve arrived at that domain, observe what happens, then come right back.


    "And um... be careful not to be seen by Tamar. She gets very violent, and I don''t want you to get hurt. Did you get all that, Nendas?"


    He nodded. Anything to get out, though not being able to gaze at her would be a downside.


    "Good, now go by my will. I will guide you; just be sure to pay attention to it this time," said Jaha. "Don''t betray my trust, or I shall be cross."


    And she moved her hand and sent him flying away.


    Nendas soared into the air, flapping his wings as he finally passed beyond the river. He soared over open fields of a far green country, gazing down on the changing dimensions. He saw to his left a dark castle at the edge of a black precipice.


    Drawn toward it, he passed it and found himself in a realm of nothingness. And beyond, the gray realm of turmoil lay between all worlds. A light drew him on through the innumerable pathways of reality. Yet as he flew, a will set itself against him.


    It was unlike any will he had felt before; it was there, yet not. But his flight slowed unless he fought beak and claw to keep pace. There was, within it, snarling malice of sorts. Yet as he moved forward, it got weakened. Soon he was going swift and sure, with only occasional feelings of opposition.


    Yet he saw visions as he passed through the turmoil of things that were, had been, and had not come to pass. And chief among them was a blonde warrior, covered in the blood of his enemies. Villages were laid to waste in immense numbers; entire civilizations were cast down. The earth broke apart as Ancient Namina was cast down. Against him, all the world conspired, and all the world suffered and burned.


    Nothing could stop him or slow his progress, only divert his implacable wrath for a while. And a name came now to Nendas.


    Anoa the Bright.


    Who was this shadow before the gods cringed back? Upon whom vast civilizations had been shattered in mere decades? How had he scarred the land and set the borders between heaven and hellfire? And why did Nendas see it now?


    And, little by little, he perceived a pathway of reality, connecting his spirit to the creature. Was it his nature that he drew from it, conflicting with Jaha? Was it the nature of all humanity to be tied to this figure? Or was it himself?


    Every action taken broke and created innumerable connections to innumerable people. Yet Anoa had severed and touched so many; it had changed everything. The world was reshaped in his image and that of his rivals. Or was it rather that he took on a form in the shape of things to come?


    Had he created the world?


    Or had the world created him?


    The answer may be yes.


    These half-delusional thoughts had no meaning that Nendas could decipher for himself. He wondered if he was not simply catching some part of the mind of greater power. One that even now looked through him as a lens.


    It did not matter. Nendas had work to do.


    Against all the horrors this monster could be summoned was sent only his reflection. The other mirrored the motions in an echo through reality as one acted. Action and counteraction conspired against one another, though neither one had met. And Nendas wondered if he was that reflection.


    Perhaps that was why Jaha had accepted him.


    The grayish abyss passed him by as he neared the world of mortals. And at last, he came before Rokas as he strode through the dimensions. Rokas halted as he saw him, and Nendas flew before him. It was good to see his friend again, though Nendas had not considered him at it before.


    Perhaps his time with Jaha had not been a waste after all. As he flew before Rokas, Nendas felt joy in his heart welling up. Rokas halted and looked at him in surprise. "You...


    "You are not an enemy, are you? You want me to follow you, then?"


    Nendas tried to motion yes, and it must have gotten through.


    "Lead on," said Rokas.


    Nendas was guided and guided in turn. And things could become better after all.

 Chapter 123 - Twenty: Old Lives

    Another swath of dust brushed away from the tiles.*


    It was another life where she''d been a Princess ruling an island kingdom she had founded herself. She had sought to bring peace through friendship and compassion. Her friendship had been used, then thrown away without ceremony. The compassion she showed for all people had seen her mocked, used, and belittled. Until everyone she''d loved had died and her people slaughtered.


    And when she sought to avenge them, she was told she was wrong for doing so.


    Similar stories like it seemed to happen to Taha over and over. And she wondered how many lives she had lived through like this. Why was Tamar interested in her anyway? How to broach the subject?


    "So, you''ve cleaned many floors now, haven''t you?" asked Tamar, watching from the air. She was standing on the ceiling.


    "Why? Do you have something else for me to do?" asked Taha.


    "Do you take it that you are employed doing honest work instead of murdering innocent people?" asked Tamar.


    "Since when do you care about innocent people?" asked Taha. "Half of these lives end with me gruesomely murdered by your subjects. When it''s not wild animals."


    "Had to use the line," said Tamar. "I''m playing moral authority. Also, they are Father''s subjects. While there is some overlap, my ways are not his ways."


    "Fine," said Taha. "The answer is yes.


    "That at least got me respect. I''d tell stories of victories at the tavern, make love to Nendas at night and do the same thing. It was glorious.


    "This is...


    "It''s like I never even left my roots." What even were her roots? Taha genuinely did not know if her life was engraved on these walls. Perhaps it was someone else.


    "Then why are you still doing it?" asked Tamar.


    "Because the alternative is sitting in a dark cell and crying myself to sleep like a Princess," noted Taha. "Assuming I even did sleep. Nothing ever changes in this place.


    "So why are you interested in me? I seem to have warranted special treatment."


    "I think I already outlined my problem with you, Taha," said Tamar.


    "Maybe, but I get the feeling you''ve wanted to do this for some time," said Taha. She felt her tail twitching behind her as she scrubbed. As she looked up, however, she saw Tamar''s face inches from her own.


    "Alright, I confess, I did enjoy watching everything fall apart for you in your first life," said Tamar. And she put her fan between them. "And in your second and third. You''re something of an anomaly among mortals.


    "Virtually every god has rejected you by now."


    "Oh really," said Taha. "And why is that?"


    "You overplay your part," said Tamar. "Most deities have their own style of commandment or guidelines, especially on how worshippers should conduct themselves. All of them have certain virtues they hold to.


    "Every time you get given a code or ideology; however, you always take to it like a fish to water. And you take it to such extremes that it alienates whatever culture or god you serve."


    "Right, and the one person I don''t want to be associated with won''t take no for an answer," noted Taha.


    "You do know that you deserved a lot worse, don''t you?" said Tamar, descending to land on the ground. "If I hadn''t taken you away, you would have been destroyed. Likely alongside your entire city right now.


    "Or do you think Rokas would have sacrificed himself with you there?"


    "Maybe," said Taha, not interested.


    "And would you or Nendas?" asked Tamar.


    "Probably not," conceded Taha.


    "So, I saved you from hell and your entire city from destruction," said Taha. "And since you already owe me everything you are, I figure having to wipe down some floors is a small price to pay. You took my power, got years of benefits, and were saved by me coming to collect.


    "I''d call that a lot more than you deserve."


    "I don''t care about Tarasif. I''d happily sacrifice the whole city so long as I, Nendas, and Rokas got out of this alive and free," said Taha with a shrug.


    "Now see, that is exactly the attitude that keeps you on the mortal coil," noted Tamar. "You''re always in it for yourself unless you have no choice but to serve someone else."


    "So, does this end?" asked Taha, scratching an ear.


    "Does what end?" asked Tamar.


    "Am I supposed just to keep washing the dust off endless floors for the rest of eternity? What happens next?" asked Taha.


    "I thought you were giving me that choice, Taha?" asked Tamar.


    "What do you get out of this?" asked Taha. "Why am I here, drudging through all of this? I finished one room, and you create another? Do you want me to suffer?"


    Tamar sighed. "No, Taha.


    "I want you."


    "Why?" asked Taha, genuinely perplexed. "What is so important that you could go to all this trouble just to get me? And now that you have me, what do you want? What do you want from me?"


    "I want you, okay," said Tamar, seeming flustered. "I want you to serve me like you said you would and love me like you did! I want you to be here with me and be happy to be here with me! And I want you to pledge to me as you did before and mean it!


    "Is that so much to ask?"


    "Yes," said Taha.


    "Why?!" said Tamar. "Why do you hate me?"


    "You know why," said Taha.


    "I already told you that what happened to you is far better than what would have happened," said Tamar. "And you were the one who called me down in the first place, so what did you expect would happen?


    "I''m just trying to make you comfortable with your new life, but you fight me at every turn!"


    Taha sighed. They needed help. "This isn''t working, Tamar."


    "Your Majesty to you," said Tamar.


    "This isn''t working, your Majesty," said Taha. "I believe I would have come to a bad end if you hadn''t done what you did. I admit that I was probably a horrible person. I shouldn''t have broken my contract with you; that''s obvious to anyone. From a pragmatic sense, anyway.


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    "You have every legal right by any law to do worse to me than you did according to the privileges given deity. I admit I don''t fully believe that, but you make a compelling case.


    "So, assuming this isn''t all some drug-induced hallucination, you are completely right.


    "But I''m not feeling what you want from me. That''s my failing, not yours.


    "Now, can I do something to make up for my failure? Or are we just going to sit here forever?"


    Tamar sighed. "...You can stay with me. Just, just until I release you to something else, please.


    "I''ll find a quest or something; just... please don''t leave."


    God, this was pitiful. "Fine. I won''t leave until you tell me I can."


    She wasn''t going to be able to escape anyway, so it was a moot point.


    Tamar stood up, looking completely miserable. "I... I need to be alone.


    "Just for a little while." And she walked off.


    "If that''s what you want," said Taha, trying to feel sympathy. Pretending to have sympathy wasn''t any good.


    Tamar departed, and Taha continued her work.


    As she did so, Taha began to rub down more and more of the floors and walls. She began to realize that you could spend a century getting rid of the dust in this place. It would be much the same in the end. So why was she bothering?


    Because she''d been told to by a deity who had the power of life and death over her. That seemed the only justification she needed, actually. Of course, Taha could come up with an elaborate explanation about it being for a job well done. But she didn''t care; this place didn''t belong to her anyway. Just because Tamar claimed it was her soul, it didn''t matter, even if it was her soul.


    Taha had been handed a soul at birth without asking for it and then told that having it meant that she was a slave. That she did not belong to herself, and nothing she did could be anything but a channel for the Gods. Or whatever you called the force at the back of creation. The demons were trying to steal her soul or hurt her.


    But really, what was the use of a soul?


    Taha could probably get on just fine without one. If indeed she was cleaning it, then her consciousness had an independent existence. That meant the soul was just how she was kept enslaved. Perhaps it came with certain luxuries, like emotions and faith. But why were those valuable?


    A person who had never felt love or friendship would not miss them. Any more than someone who had spent all their life in prison would miss the open air. And there would also be clear benefits. One was not being kidnapped by sociopathic Goddesses who wanted to force her to love them. Still, she probably would lose access to some of her own power or even a lot of it. And it was possible that the operation would destroy her.


    But there was no guarantee that it wouldn''t be in a better state of existence.


    That settled it; after Taha got out of this place, she was going to look into severing herself from her soul. Come to think of it, she''d read in several places that their spirit determined the length of a species'' life. Which meant if she played her cards right, she might make herself immortal.


    And then a door opened. And Rokas raced in, a hawk flying beside her. "Taha, come quickly!"


    "Rokas, how did you... is that Nendas?" asked Taha, stunned.


    "It is?" asked Rokas.


    "Yes, I remember Jaha transformed him into that," said Taha.


    "Then this is excellent news. You must come quickly; we cannot leave without you," said Rokas.


    "Why, how did you even get here?" asked Taha.


    "Elranor aided me in getting through the Divine Gate. Come quickly, Taha; we must go," said Rokas.


    This was a secret test of character, and Taha was not going to fall for it. "I can''t leave.


    "You do know that you''re infiltrating the domain of a God, don''t you? And she just left five seconds ago. There''s only one way this situation will end if I try to go with you. She''ll appear and lecture me on how I''m a worthless traitor or something.


    "Then I''ll be stuck tied up again."


    "We got in here unopposed, Taha," said Rokas. "And we have the support of several other deities. It may be that they are hiding us from sight.


    "Come on; you are needed in the city."


    "Why? What''s so important?" asked Taha.


    "We have only a matter of days now," said Rokas. "Soon, our home will be destroyed by divine judgment. The only way we can escape is to sacrifice ourselves willingly to appease them."


    Wait, sacrifice their lives to save people they did not know? People who had been actively terrible? Had Rokas taken to exotic herbs? "Wait a minute; you want to free me so I can be a human sacrifice?"


    "I am also giving myself up," said Rokas. "I would not arrange our reunion in such circumstances, but all that we fought for may be consumed by blood and fire."


    "But even if I do go with you, who says the sacrifice will work?" asked Taha ruefully. "I mean... in legal terms, I belong to Tamar now. And I''ve already given an oath not to leave without her permission.


    "I wish you''d gotten here five minutes earlier."


    "It may be that she got the oath from you five minutes before we arrived on purpose," noted Rokas.


    "In which case, we have no chance of escape anyway, Rokas," said Taha. "I can''t leave without Tamar''s permission. She almost certainly knows what we are doing and..." How to state this in a way Rokas would understand. "I gave my word. I can''t break it again."


    Technically true, and hopefully, it would pacify.


    "I don''t believe you," said Rokas.


    "Are you saying I would have no problem breaking an oath?" asked Taha. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes, Taha, I am," said Rokas. "You hold no value in such things save how breaking them might backfire.


    "So why are you doing this?"


    Caught lying again. Rokas always was sharper than he let on.


    "Alright, fine," said Tamar. "This is an obvious secret test of character, and I''m not going to give her the pleasure of falling into it. Even if she isn''t, she is able to move far swifter than us and is powerful.


    "If I thought there were any chance of escape, I''d accept the offer in a heartbeat. Tamar has no moral grounds to hold me; I advanced her goals even after I cult. What she was doing to me wrong by any standard of morality."


    "What about the idea that Gods can do what they want when they want?" asked Rokas.


    "Even Tamar doesn''t buy into that theory," said Taha. "Or she wouldn''t have gone to such lengths to justify herself to me. If your conscience is clear, you don''t have to keep insisting that it is."


    "Then our home will perish in fire," said Rokas.


    This was going nowhere.


    The only situation in which Taha was wrong was if Tamar was that stupid. And Elranor could provide them with cover. But even if that were the case, Taha would be going to her death and end up back here.


    So what were her options?


    "...Fine then," said Taha. "Tamar, since we all know you''re watching, how about you tell me if I can get permission for this?"


    Tamar appeared, looking very pleased with herself. "How nice of you to address me, Taha. I knew there was a reason I liked you.


    "Let me see here...


    "You sacrifice yourself heroically to redeem your sins. You suffer a painful death at the hands of Impus. And as soon as you die, you come back here to me. And this time, you can''t run away from me anymore, even if you want to.


    "What am I going to say, no?


    "I''ll tell you what, Taha. Finish this up, and I''ll have a very pleasurable welcome waiting for you."


    "What has she been doing to you?" asked Rokas, whose outrage seemed hypocritical. He now saw the cat ears and blonde hair.


    "A lot more than that," said Taha.


    Nendas swooped in and landed on Taha''s shoulder. He cawed at Tamar, who glared back in obvious hatred.


    "How did you rescue Nendas from Jaha anyway?" asked Taha.


    "He was waiting for me when he got out," said Rokas.


    "Oh, was he?" asked Tamar before raising a hand.


    There was a flash, and a cage of iron bars surrounded Nendas as he was pulled into the air.


    "What are you doing?" asked Rokas.


    "As I suspected," said Tamar. "So, Jaha thought she''d steal away my pet-"


    "I thought I was your slave," said Taha.


    "Jaha thought she''d steal away my slave pet and use her as a human sacrifice. Then have Nendas here fly back to her," said Tamar. "Sorry, but I don''t intend to let that happen."


    "Wait, Nendas, is this true?" asked Rokas.


    Nendas cawed in return.


    "Would you have gone back?" asked Taha, curious.


    "Of course, he would," said Tamar. "Jaha will have told him she''d curb his freedoms even more than she has already. This is his big opportunity to impress her. And he''s absolutely terrified of her retribution, aren''t you, Nendas?"


    Nendas was silent.


    "So you would have let our city burn?" asked Rokas.


    "He is going to have to spend the rest of eternity with Jaha, after all. And even if he was successfully sacrificed, he''d go right back to her," said Tamar. "I don''t think you realize how cruel Jaha can be. "It''s just that she makes you feel guilty for her being cruel to you.


    "Although I suppose she does have huge breasts, so, some benefit there."


    Taha thought Tamar was the last person to have an opinion on either subject. "So, what can we do?"


    "Obviously, you simply need to kidnap him," said Tamar. "Take him with you, and don''t let him out of the cage under any circumstances. He''s probably been threatened to come back, and I''d say he would. But, if he was forced against his will to run away, Jaha won''t have a problem with him.


    "Give him the opportunity to die as a sacrifice, with the knowledge that it''ll send him right back.


    "All three of you die horribly; Jaha and I get our pets back, and everyone is a man or woman of their word."


    "You make it sound far more pleasant for us than it actually will be," noted Rokas.


    "Relax, will you," said Tamar. "You all know for sure there is an afterlife, and you brought all of this on yourselves anyway."


    "I take your point," said Rokas.


    They turned to leave, but Tamar spoke suddenly.


    "Oh, and Taha," said Tamar.


    Taha turned and found Tamar''s lips on her.


    "That''s for luck," said Tamar.


    Taha tried desperately to suppress the wave of revulsion she felt at the kiss. However, that emotion alone could get her killed or worse. So she focused on the physical sensation, how it was a physical pleasure. Focus wholly on the hedonistic aspect and not on the implications surrounding it. Or the foreshadowing of what was coming.


    Focus on getting out of there.


    Get out.


    Now.


    *This chapter is drawn from a separate manuscript. The previous one was incomplete and ended before Tamar met with Rokas and Nendas. It is possible that those two were the people referred to going to meet.


    However, because of the source material, Tamar''s meeting is never resolved. I keep it for the sake of completion.

 Chapter 124 - Twenty-One: Through Divine Eyes

    Elranor had to admit; this was not how he wanted to spend his time.


    One of the problems with being a God of Healing and Death was also one of the main benefits. All the universe was your domain, but that left you with a lot of ground to cover. The truth was his devotion to letting people make their own choices. It was as much pragmatic conservatism as ideology. If he tried to take the active role some of his compatriots had, he''d never get anything done.


    There were too many things to be healed and to die in too many ways.


    Jaha was perhaps a microcosm of the concept.


    "Oh, that witch! That absolute witch!" Jaha cried as she watched the scene play out. "Now Nendas is going to feel obligated to be killed brutally!"


    Jaha didn''t get angry very often. She had projected her more hostile and combative nature of justice onto Nendas: that and some of her fragments in far-off worlds. Most deities had two domains, each one being the other side of the side coin. Peace and Justice were Jaha''s, both requiring the other, even as they were foils.


    "In all fairness, Jaha, you did attempt to steal one of her souls first," noted Elranor. "And, this is, at best, a momentary inconvenience."


    "That''s not the point, Elranor," said Jaha. "She''s unfairly pressuring Nendas to act contrary to his nature. He''ll have to let himself die to come back to me."


    "It will likely save a great many lives," noted Elranor.


    "But what about Nendas? He''s stuck in a cage, lonely and afraid," said Jaha. "The poor thing.


    "He''s trying to escape, even though he doesn''t want to. I knew this was too much, too fast for him."


    "Have you considered letting Nendas go?" asked Elranor.


    "What?" said Jaha. "But he''s mine."


    "In the sense of physical possession, yes," said Elranor. "But you do not seem to have any regard for his own will or desires. You are risking alienating him permanently."


    "Nothing like that will happen," said Jaha. "Nendas is my other. He doesn''t have a choice."


    Elranor would have to do some spannering here, wouldn''t he?


    The basic problem was that Nendas had absolutely no choice. While he could choose to sacrifice himself or not, it did not affect his fate. Things had been set up, so his own will was wholly irrelevant. Which, of course, was the problem with Jaha''s belief system.


    When divorced from the earth of justice, mercy could create only a tame and toothless world. One where free will was an illusion and growth was impossible. It was to render sentient creatures no more than mere beasts. Nendas to Jaha was divined only by what had happened to him, not by what he had chosen to do.


    But Jaha wasn''t going to listen to reason. Her sense of justice was all protected by other fragments. Tamar would only laugh as long as Taha was made her slave. And nothing would get better about how things were operating.


    So, Elranor was going to have to employ someone else.


    This plan was a risk; of course, it could result in a dangerous dark lord. But the alternative would ensure Jaha and Tamar both became dark lords in their own right. The prospect of Tamar with Taha as a chief lieutenant was too horrifying to contemplate. Taha was nice enough as she was, but she could, and had, been a monster in a different life and time.


    Time to pay Melchious a visit.


    The domain of torment was as unpleasant as always. Elranor walked through the hells and sent what light he could to ease the agony of those here. As he walked, a strawberry blonde demoness, whose hair fell in waves, barred his path. She was clad in a long, strapless black dress that clung to her shapely form. "Lord Elranor..."


    "Where is your master?" asked Elranor.


    "Inside," said Rubia, shaking. "Waiting for you."


    Elranor entered through a set of black gates and found Melchious within them. Though he was not in the form, he was usually known. He was wearing a bathrobe and sitting on a sofa in a luxurious living room. On the walls were pictures of many victories fought and won. There were also images of starships flying overhead, burning worlds. There were beams of light melting continents. But Melchious was not looking at those, inside reading a book on genetic engineering. Next to him, on a table, were several astrophysics books and a cup of coffee.


    Melchious did not notice him at first but eventually put the book down and smiled. "Father?


    "I didn''t see you there; I focused on some easy reading." And he stood, his outfit changing to white armor. "I wasn''t expecting you here. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "There is no pleasure in this meeting, Melchious," said Elranor. He refused to be friendly when making this kind of visit. One should not be friendly with the one you consider evil. Friendliness is an endorsement. "Only necessity. Jaha and Tamar have become intolerable and are liable only to get worse. Samrasa is wholly corrupt and depraved. Impus has decided to stand on his rights and destroy Tarasif.


    "The mortals have arranged a sacrifice of three willing mortals. But it will only preserve the flesh. My cult is in hiding, and Jaha is in no position to take over in the power vacuum after Samrasa dies."


    "My sympathies," said Melchious. "Get to the point."


    "I''m going to offer you a chance to perform a mission of liberation, Anoa," said Elranor. "No doubt you are aware of the one called Nendas?"


    "My extension?" asked Melchious. "Didn''t he become the Avatar of Jaha somehow?" An ''extension'' was a particular kind of spirit. It was a soul Melchious had created ages ago without a demonic taint. It was created with an element of power but had a degree of independence.


    Yet it was also tied deeply to Melchious. So long as such a soul was incarnated, Melchious could use them as an anchor to return. He''d used it to survive much death, always returning to bring more ruin.


    "Nendas is being enslaved by Jaha spiritually, against his will," said Elranor.


    "As opposed to all those who are enslaved according to their will?" asked Melchious.


    Elranor did not take the bait. Both knew full well that there were ways to enslave someone without them knowing it. Melchious had worked for people who did that as a matter of course. "I give you leave to cancel the spell."


    "And the catch?" asked Melchious.


    "There is no catch," said Elranor. "You can take the opportunity or leave it. I''m giving you a chance to do something good and the cover to achieve it because you are the only one who can. After all, you are the Lord of Torment, so his forced misery puts him in your domain.


    "Of course, if you wanted to misuse this moment to try and offer a deal with a demon, that is your own business. Whatever you do, I''ll plan around it.


    "The door is open."


    And he walked out.


    "Thank you very much," said Melchious.


    Realistically speaking, Melchious had much to gain by freeing Nendas. It opened up the possibility for a major disaster if Nendas went off script. At the same time, it also opened up an opportunity for real good. So it was still worth the risk to involve him.


    Elranor withdrew from physical form and turned his will toward the three friends. Taha, Rokas, and Nendas had made their way down the mountains. They had journeyed over several days, and now both were exhausted. Nendas stood within his cage, watching beneath a tree''s watch.


    Then, Melchious'' agent appeared.


    It was Rubia, one more daughter of Fortenex. She was clad in red cloth that bared her legs, shoulders, and the sides of her breasts. Her golden hair fell around her shoulders. Moving forward with swayings hips toward Nendas, the hawk let out a cry. Yet, the cry did not reach.


    "Well, you seem to be having a problem," said Rubia. "Terrified out of your mind to return to the Goddess of Peace. And yet there is no place you wouldn''t rather be at her side."


    So they intended to offer a deal, as Elranor had expected. Depending on what choice Nendas would make, Elranor would have to adjust his strategy. Of course, on a higher level, Elranor already knew how this would turn out. He existed within time and space and therefore was bound by it.


    "Oh, you needn''t fear. I''m not here for them," said Rubia, leaning in near the cage. "Believe it or not, I''m here to fight an injustice."


    Nendas saw nothing and simply stood there glaring at her. Rubia met his gaze and held it for a time before sighing and turning away. "...Yes, well, I realize it''s a bit silly sounding, but it makes sense.


    "You see, I was wondering if you might be interested in serving me."


    Nendas remained silent.


    "Reluctant to give yourself to a demon?" asked Rubia. "I suppose the situation is unreasonable, but let me ask you this;


    "What salvation can you expect?


    "You''re not going to hell when you die. No matter what you do or say, you''ll go straight to Jaha. She''s completely unconcerned with who you are or what you want. She loves you unconditionally and is never going to let you go.


    "Even if you demonstrate your loyalty to her, do you think she''ll improve your treatment?"


    Nendas emanated a feeling of unease, and Elranor wondered if he should intervene. Perhaps not yet. Mortals were stronger when they rejected demons of their own will. And when they didn''t...


    Well, the lessons could be useful.


    "Oh yes, she''ll appreciate your loyalty and be very proud," said Rubia. "She''ll let you fly around when you want and take you with her when she visits. But we both know you''ll never have the guts to escape again.


    "She''s already got you almost completely broken.


    "You were an extension of her from the moment the brand was put on your head. Her will filled you, took your thoughts and desires, and bound you like a slave. Only your collar was in your mind. All your attempts to destroy her worship couldn''t shake her off.


    "But, then, you can''t make an informed decision like this, can you?


    "Well, let''s see if we can do something about that."


    And then Rubia reached out and took hold of the divine spirit ingrained into Nendas'' mind. As he did, the power of Jaha was drawn out of it. Elranor saw Jaha looking up in horror. "Nendas! Nendas, no, stay with me!"


    Then her power over him was gone.


    "There," said Rubia. "I''ve sent her influence over you back to her.


    "Now, perhaps we can talk. I''m prepared to offer your spirit an escape from your present fate. Swear loyalty to me, and I can shelter you from the Gods. Including one for Taha, if she will accept it. Tamar is a rival of mine, and denying her control of one of her pets would be a golden opportunity.


    "You can serve as my agent in all affairs. The three of you could go far in the service of Zigildrazia. We can offer you an opportunity for vengeance upon Samrasa. You could rule over Tarasif yourselves.


    "A far better deal than the Gods, who would have you sacrifice everything for a fate worse than death."


    Nendas looked at her, distinctly unimpressed.


    "Oh, come now," said Rubia. "The least you could do is consider if. I have come all this way and freed you. You might at least pretend to be tempted by what I have to say?"


    There was absolute, scathing silence.


    "Hmm, so apparently, promises of power and safety are of little value to you," mused Rubia. "I suppose, given your sire, it makes sense. No matter. I suppose you''ll be following my will; if you don''t want to be paid for it, that''s fine by me.


    "Be seeing you."


    And she vanished.


    And no one was the wiser. Taha soon rose from sleep, moving forward with tail flicking in the morning light. "Nendas... did you sleep alright?"


    Nendas was silent.


    "I guess you can''t answer me," said Taha, looking at one hand that seemed somewhat clawlike. "These changes Tamar put me through, I... I hear things and smell things I never did before.


    "I get the feeling we''re going to have a serious problem soon.


    "Listen, I...


    "Nendas, I love you, you know that. Before all this happened, I''d been hoping to marry you someday. I mean... I guess we went ahead with things before marriage, but...


    "That''s never going to happen now, is it?


    "Even if we succeed at this, we''ll all die. Rokas will go wherever it is he wants. I... well, I guess Tamar will want me back. And you''ll go back to Jaha. I... I don''t think the gods will let any of us go after this, Nendas.


    "But you''ve got it the worst of us, right?


    "I mean, I could run for it now if I wanted to. Delay the inevitable. Rokas doesn''t have to go back at all, but...


    "You can''t do anything, can you?


    "If we open that cell door, you must return to Jaha. If I made a run for it... I don''t think Tamar would care. I mean, she''d probably really work me a lot harder for a bit, but...


    "I guess I''m saying that I swore myself to Tamar.


    "I chose to join her cult, even if I didn''t buy into it.


    "But you...


    "You got tricked into wearing the stupid brand, and Jaha entered your mind. You didn''t choose to be her Avatar. And you spent your entire life trying to get her to renounce you, but... she never did, did she?


    "And now you have to fly back to her, or else what little freedom you''ve got left will be taken from you.


    "And the only thing I can do is keep you in that cage until we all die. Because as long as you''re trapped in a cage, you can''t be held responsible for not returning.


    "I...


    "Nendas, I am sorry. I am so sorry.


    "But that''s all I can say, isn''t it? I can''t do anything.


    "We''re just pets, and the gods do whatever they want with us."


    And she was silent for a long time. Elranor considered possible responses and concluded the matter was beyond him. Now Rokas had stood up. "Come, we must get up.


    "We have a road to travel."


    "Right, let''s go," said Taha.


    Elranor watched, calculating as he did so.


    Nendas was approached in his own realm, and Elranor had enough power to observe as it happened. Now it was time to wait and see what happened next. Jaha was appearing, approaching, worried as always.


    "Nendas, don''t worry," said Jaha. "I''m going to arrange for you to escape soon, then you can return to me."


    But Nendas stayed still, staring at her simply.


    "What do you mean by this?" asked Jaha. "You have to come back. It''s what is best for you."


    Nendas said nothing.


    "Is this about your city?" asked Jaha. "They were the ones who twisted you into what you are. You don''t need to endure the trauma of being killed for them."


    "...Although, I suppose that it would take you some time to get back at this rate. It might even be faster this way," mused Jaha. "Alright, Nendas, if you want to do this, I''ll let you die like this.


    "But after that, you''re mine."


    Well, that was... fortunate.


    Elranor was pleased Jaha had enough composure to not needlessly waste resources. Her consciousness was effectively fractured. The regaining of her divine consciousness had been underway for a long time. Part of the problem was that each piece of her had altered and changed over time. Each one was gaining an individuality of its own.


    That made reuniting lost pieces more or less impossible directly. Karus had done her work too well. Even so, Jaha, as she was, could be restored to her old self if she continued to grow. A sense of pragmatism was progress. Her association with Nendas had proven beneficial after all. His experiences and perspectives had been imprinted onto her. It gained her a more sophisticated perspective.


    But dealing with those revelations could take time.


    It was a shame that it had taken this long. Elranor had a lot of other parts of the universe that dearly needed a Goddess of Peace, far more than one of war.


    "Hold, the King''s men are ahead of us," said Rokas.


    "Um... Rokas, maybe I should do the talking here," said Taha.


    "I admit, I have never been one for words," said Rokas, nodding.


    The soldiers moved forward and lowered pikes as Taha moved forward. She was changed by her time with Tamar, with inhumane features. They eyed her in fear more than wonder or respect.


    "Hold where you are, creature! The King commands you shall not pass!"


    "Hello, it''s me, Taha," said Taha.


    "...Taha, the servant of Nendas, who went mad for heresy?" asked a man. "What manner of devilry is this? You look part animal."


    "I got abducted and transformed by a god," said Taha simply. "The hawk is Nendas, and Rokas saved us. We need to get past you."


    "In the name of the King, none shall pass!" said the man. "Your unholy temples shall be burned soon, and then the Impus shall have no power over us!" As usual, Samrasa was responding to things out of his control the only way he knew how.


    "Hang on, what?" asked Taha in horror. "If you do that, it''ll only make him angry!"


    "His anger matters not," said a guard. "He has only the power we let him have."


    "...Listen, the King can do whatever he wants, but let us through," said Taha. "We''re not even going to be staying long. Nendas, Rokas, and I are due to sacrifice ourselves to Impus to appease him.


    "We''ll be dead a few minutes after they find us."


    "You would practice appeasement to such abominations? If you are Taha, you have fallen far!" said the guard.


    "Honestly, I never really bought into your religion of god-hatred," said Taha with a shrug. "It just... seemed a convenient ideology to latch onto while I was doing social climbing. I''ve gotten a bit tired of it, so now that it''s inconvenient, I''m throwing it away.


    "Look, what do you have to lose here?


    "If we go there and your plan works, you can kill us. If we go there and your plan doesn''t, you have a backup plan. If we don''t go there and your plan doesn''t work, everyone will die.


    "Just-"


    "Enough!" said the guard. "Turn back now, or face our blade!"


    Taha sighed. "...Alright, so we''re going to do this the hard way, huh? Let''s go, Rokas."


    Elranor decided to act here.


    Raising a hand, he sent forth his will. The cage around Nendas shattered, and the hawk was bathed in light. When the light passed, Nendas was whole again and held in place his sword as he looked at those before him. They numbered as many as had guarded Samrasa on the journey from the Hasafa Clan lands long ago.


    They were no obstacle.


    "Nendas," said Taha.


    The men stepped back in terror.


    "What the..." said another. "It''s Nendas! The false prophet!"


    "That bird turned into a human! Impossible!" said a man.


    "They say he condemned the Lord Munsuf to hellfire by word alone!" said another.


    "Don''t believe in it; it''s no more than more god trickery! None of it is real! It''s only magic!" said the soldier. "Kill them! Kill them all and consign them to the nothingness of death!"


    But Nendas, Rokas and Taha moved faster. They fell on the enemy, overrunning them and scattering them. The Captain had his spear broken and was thrown to the ground. His men fled as Nendas raised his sword. The way to Tarasif lay open.


    "Well... that went well," said Rokas.


    "Don''t kill any of them if they come back," said Nendas. "We have enough blood on our hands. Come, we must reach the city and fast."


    "Wait, you''re not going back?" asked Taha in surprise.


    "Jaha can wait a little while," said Nendas. "I will not abandon my home to destruction so easily. Also... this is probably the fastest way back at this point, so I''m still following her will."


    "Good point," said Taha.


    Well, it had been set in motion, then. Now the only question was how Elranor was going to deal with Taha. While as normal as any human soul ever was, she was likely to cause some serious problems.*


    *I don''t care for this interpretation of Elranor. And I care less about Tanith insisting this text be used.


    It seems far too long-suffering and put upon. Instead of the majesty of a being equal parts merciful and cold, he comes across as human.


    And gods are not human.


    Moreover, the idea that Melchious is Elranor''s son is ludicrous. The only sons Elranor ever had were Gail Arengeth and Anoa the Bright. The relationship was with a jewelry smith who he loved and remained faithful to. Gail Arengeth has to my knowledge, never spoken of any such third child, and he would certainly know.


    A possible way to make this work would be to suggest that Anoa became Melchious. And that is ridiculous; Melchious is not threatening or destructive enough to be Anoa. If someone as powerful as Anoa the Bright were to become a demon, the result would not be occasional terror.


    Anoa going bad would mean a new age of darkness for the universe. We are not living in such an age; ergo, Melchious cannot be Anoa.

 Chapter 125 - Twenty-Two: A City on Fire

    The road to Tarasif had grown difficult.


    The road had decayed with time, as peasants stole stones from it while Samrasa and Munsuf had feasted. But it was more than the pits in the road that could break an ankle. It was as though some power or force kept them at bay, fighting their approach tooth and nail. But what power would desire such a thing? Nendas wondered if it was not the will of the people of Tarasif itself. Perhaps Samrasa''s grip over their hearts and minds had resonated outward. Now their journey was opposed by a kind of will.


    Every step was more difficult than the last, and a feral hatred tore at them. And above them, the sky became utterly black. Not a single star shone in the sky above, and yet there was no cloud texture. It was as though the sky itself was veiled in shadow.


    "Look at those clouds," said Taha.


    "Those aren''t clouds," said Nendas, realizing it. "The Sun Spirit itself is not shedding light on the city." Samrasa''s power had manifested, or perhaps some power working through Samrasa. Having been provoked, it was in full flower and clawed at Nendas'' thoughts, turning his gaze back.


    He thought about running, the three fleeing to other places, their masters. Why should they face certain death and perhaps damnation? Why should Taha be condemned to be Tamar''s slave?


    But no.


    They had to get to Tarasif, and he resolved to keep up the attack. But doing so only seemed to make the will fight them all the stronger. Now he felt as though he was actively being pushed back or had men dragging on him with ropes. He told himself that if this power was set against them, it could not do the same in other areas.


    Perhaps they pressed on enough; they might break this spell.


    "What are we going to do here?" asked Taha.


    "What do you mean?" asked Nendas.


    "Do we just go into the town square and cut our throats in plain sight?" asked Taha. "Or are we supposed to check in first? What''s the plan?"


    "I imagine we should head to the shrine of Impus," said Rokas. "It may be that they have some insight for us..."


    "We''re not going to that curse place," said Nendas. "We''ll go to the shrine of Elranor for a start. Failing that, we can go to Jaha''s domain instead.


    "But I don''t think that will be an easy task."


    They rounded the corner in horror, and a snarl went through the air.


    Coming round the bend of the trees saw flames rising high in Tarasif. Many of the temples were burning, and he found the gates unguarded. Those manning them had abandoned their posts. People were throwing water onto flaming houses and evacuating others.


    "What is going on here?" asked Nendas of a person.


    "King Samrasa has lost his mind," said a man. "After Impus appeared, he declared that traitors had undermined the city''s defense! He started going from door to door and dragging people out to be executed!


    "The priests sheltered some, and he went to war with them.


    "Kalif has taken their part, but now there''s fighting throughout the city. Samrasa lost the palace in the fighting but started setting fire to places he didn''t control. Now the blaze is all over the city. The Priests of Jaha have kept us organized, and we''re fighting it, but if we don''t get some rain, we''ll be finished. And if we do, Samrasa will kill us all.


    "He''s whipped up mobs! People we knew, and they''ve gone mad, hacking down anyone he says just because he says so! Some zealots said now was the time, and they started killing each other!"


    "Where is Samrasa now!" said Nendas. There would be blood for this.


    "At the Temple of Jaha," said the man. "But what do you intend to do."


    "Stop him for a start," said Nendas, calming himself. "There are divine plans in motion that might save us. But it won''t do us any good if that madman continues like this. Taha, Rokas, come with me.


    "So much for a secular utopia."


    And they raced quickly through the streets. Now and then, Nendas would stop to organize people into a firing squad, casting water onto the blaze. Taha utilized her rituals, trying to summon the wind. But Tamar found the flames amusing, so they continued burning as the air stayed dead.


    But at last, they came to the temple of Jaha.


    And it was under siege. Samrasa and his ilk stood at the base of the stairs, hurling torches and firing arrows. Corpses of Tarasif soldiers riddled the stairs with arrows in them and the bodies of priests. Armored soldiers were at the gates of the ziggurat, wielding a great ram.


    "Armed troops are marching on the temple..." said Nendas under his pressure.


    "Are you surprised?" said Taha. "We''ve seen this done a thousand times."


    "Yes, but... this time, we will stop it," said Nendas.


    And drawing his sword, he rushed forward in front of the army of Samrasa. Springing up the stairs, he drew his blade and pointed it at the King. "Stay where you are, Samrasa!


    "If you cast down this temple, it will only lead to further devastation!"


    "Your lies mean nothing to us!" cried Samrasa. "Kill the priest and slaughter all those within!"


    The soldiers rushed forward. But the three of them fought together, disarming them and casting back down the steps. Those with the ram turned, drew their swords, and descended in a charge. At this point, Nendas, Rokas, and Taha stepped aside, letting them blunder down the steps and land on their faces.


    Charging downhill was not always a good idea. Their enemies looked at them for a moment and must have seen something.


    "Kill him!" said Samrasa, coming forward. "He''s the one who brought this curse on us."


    "I''m sorry, what?" asked Taha.


    "Stay your hand! I have no desire to fight you!" said Nendas. He''d had his fill of revenge for this life. Well, not really, but that was what one ought to say.


    "Then die where you stand! Your lies brought the gods'' judgment down upon us!" said Samrasa.


    "Well, what are you doing, then?" asked Taha.


    "This temple must be purged to break the power of the gods!" said Samrasa.


    "Do you even hear yourself!" said Taha. "You''re proclaiming us irredeemable for doing the thing you are doing right now! The things you ordered us to do!"


    "And you are trying to stop us!" said Samrasa. "You are responsible for this calamity. Now you are preventing our righteous execution of these worthless weaklings."


    "If you do not call your men off, we will be dead by the hand of the gods you are attacking very soon," noted Rokas.


    "To die appeasing such creatures?! You have fallen far, Rokas!" said Samrasa.


    "But..." Nendas stared. "You said that I was irredeemable for destroying temples. But I''m also irredeemable for trying to protect them. And equally irredeemable for sacrificing my life to appease the gods I angered."


    "What can we do that wouldn''t make us irredeemable?" asked Taha curiously.


    "You can submit to your destruction!" snarled Samrasa.


    Silence.


    "...But we''re trying to do that!" said Rokas.


    "MY WORD IS INFALLIBLE!! KILL THEM ALL! AND LET THE GODS SORT THEM OUT!!" screamed Samrasa.


    And he raced up the hill, howling like a savage with wild eyes devoid of reason or faith. Nendas stepped forward, turned his blade, and cut off his hands. The King fell to one knee, screaming as Nendas brought around his sword. The blade stabbed him through the armpit, into the heart. Samrasa''s eyes bulged wide, and Nendas pulled the blade out and let him topple down the stairs. Samarasa tumbled down and hit the ground, where he spat out blood and died.


    Samrasa was dead. So was Munsuf and Ralign.


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    Honor was satisfied, and his Father was avenged.


    It was so easy.


    Whatever madness had possessed the warriors of Samrasa, it had come from the King. Though perhaps it had come through him as light does a lens. Now, as the corpse of an evil old man hit the ground at their feet, they wavered. The fantasy of a benevolent lord died with him, and they saw the flames around them, the bodies that had been left.


    And they scattered and fled.


    Nendas looked at the body of his enemy and wondered what to do? Should he regret his decision or lament his fall? Why would he? He''d tried to stop him, and Samrasa was a monster who had more than earned it. Nendas wasn''t even trying to fight him; he would give him what he wanted.


    Should he take joy in the destruction of his hated enemy? There wasn''t much of it. He''d have been pitiable if he weren''t so vicious and evil. Everything he''d built had fallen apart around him, and he had no one but himself to blame. Yet, he felt hatred still and wondered why.


    "It had to be done," said Rokas.


    "Any regrets?" asked Taha.


    "...No," said Nendas. "Even if Samrasa had lived, if he were going to reform, it would have been long ago. He''d have kept doing one horror after enough, in a diminished state, until he was destroyed. More sins would have been added to his soul, ensuring his damnation would be all the worse.


    "And everyone else would be far worse off.


    "Samrasa is better off dead. And now that he''s gone, our lives are greatly improved. But that doesn''t make it a cause for celebration."


    "Was I ever that incoherent?" asked Taha.


    "Mostly, you used the King''s ideology as an excuse to pursue your self-interest. So, no," said Rokas.


    "Cousin Nendas?" asked a voice.


    Turning, Nendas saw Sarafi coming out of the doors and running toward him. She''d grown up, becoming taller, and her brown hair fell long behind her. A single bang went down between her eyes. "Cousin, you''re alive." And with her came many others while still more came from the houses.


    "Yes, I..." Nendas faltered and kneeled to embrace her.


    "Are you alright?" asked Sarafi. "They were saying awful things about you earlier. They weren''t true, were they?"


    "I don''t know; I haven''t heard them," said Nendas. "But, some of them, no doubt, will be true.


    "I have not been a good person in my life until now. I can only hope to repair what I''ve done."


    "Then Jaha is not leaving us?" asked Sarafi.


    Nendas broke the embrace and brushed a strand of hair from her face. "No.


    "I don''t think she ever will.


    "Sarafi... when I''m gone, I need you to take care of the faith. Jaha will need you. I know it isn''t what you wanted to do... but..."


    "Why can''t you do it?" asked Sarafi. "Where are you going?"


    "I''m not sure," said Nendas. "But I need you to be strong for the Hasafa. Do you have anyone here you can trust?"


    "Yes, the Priests of Jaha..." Sarafi paused. "The leader is one of our clan."


    "Go to him," said Nendas, and he kissed her on the brow. "Keep the faith alive."


    Then he rose and turned around to see Impus descending.


    And every light in the city went out. The flames were dulled, the skies went darker still, and the city went utterly quiet.


    "The sacrifices are here," said Impus, raising a hand. "Then you will die."


    "Nendas, Taha, it has been an honor," said Rokas.


    "Thanks for the input, but we''re not going anywhere," said Taha.


    Oh no, she wasn''t going to try and cheat the gods again, was she? Nendas looked at her and saw Taha looking up at Impus. "A question, Impus.


    "Why are we here, singled out as a sacrifice for this city?"


    "Your deaths will balance the books," said Impus.


    "How?" asked Taha.


    "You are choosing to die in their place. Or choosing not to," said Impus. "I will claim the lives of this entire city should you refuse."


    "But why is our sacrifice significant?" asked Taha. "What do we provide in terms of repentance? And why can''t a virtue of individual repentance give it."


    "They will not repent," said Impus before the faces of the people.


    "Then why should they be spared?" asked Taha. "If the people are in a state of perpetual sin, then logically, our sacrifice will do nothing but enable them. Do our lives have some nature that, when sacrificed, will wipe away their sins?


    "I sincerely doubt that."


    "Our deaths might inspire others to repent themselves," noted Rokas.


    "But couldn''t that be inspired a different way? One more effective than human sacrifice," asked Taha.


    "The books must be balanced," said Impus, unmoved.


    "Where are these books?" asked Nendas suddenly. "If there is some debt, then let the proof be brought forth."


    "He''s right," said Taha. "We can hardly have a discussion about means of payment if we have no documents proving payment is owed."


    "You and all your kind owe more than all the world could afford to repay in a century," said Impus. "The gods gave you form and life. The world you wander and sustain yourself in comes from them. The air you breathe is of the making of beings beyond your kin.


    "Your debts are limitless.


    "It is not debt that has drawn me forth, but rebellion. You have destroyed the temples and brought the void. The void has come."


    "And you are the God of the Void, then?" asked Taha, which was obvious.


    "Yes," said Impus. His voice never changed. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What crimes specifically have we committed against you beyond the temples?" asked Taha.


    "You have murdered the faithful, and let them be murdered," said Impus. "You have desecrated the holy places of this world. You perpetuated a war of faithlessness on your neighbors."


    "Explain to me how it is more wicked to make bloody war on someone because they have religion at all? Instead of because they have the wrong religion?" asked Taha.


    "Irrelevant," replied Impus. "A false sacrifice to a false idol."


    "May I speak?" asked Rokas.


    "Yes," said Impus.


    "What of the faithful who are in this city?" asked Rokas. "Those who were unable or unwilling to flee?


    "Will you claim their lives?"


    "There are few of them now, but I shall spare them," said Impus.


    "And what if the number of faithful were to be increased by sacrifices made of the individual will?" asked Taha. "Would you then spare the city?"


    "Yes," said Impus.


    "And what sacrifice would be sufficient to demonstrate such faith?" asked Nendas.


    "Whatever is lifeless and most precious," replied Impus.


    Nendas nodded and turned to the priests. "You go into the temple and get wood and other things to burn. Then, all of you go home and find your most precious possession. We will make a great bonfire, and you will cast it into the fire before the sight of Impus. Spread the word of this chance to everyone; we must move quickly.


    "Go now before his displeasure becomes greater. If we are to purchase the pardon of Impus, we must act."


    "But, couldn''t you-" began one.


    "I''m not sacrificing myself anymore," said Taha. "As long as this way the only way, I might go through with it. But if they''ve been allowed to repent without anyone dying. They won''t take it; they deserve this.


    "I''ve had more than I bargained for out here already."


    "Your sacrifice," said Impus.


    "Mine?" asked Taha. "I don''t even live here, and I''m doomed either way. Why should I give up anything?"


    Impus looked at her, and Taha met the gaze beneath the robe if there was anything. After a moment, she began to sweat and looked away. A flame was conjured before them, even as more fuel was brought forward. Reluctantly, Taha looked at her belt and drew off her belt of daggers. Looking at them, Nendas saw she had kept them well-maintained, polished, and repaired. Every battle, she had retrieved these ones'', no matter how long the searching.


    "I..." said Tamar. "These are... these are my knives. I earned them in the Cult of Tamar, and they were important to me. But I guess they were never really mine, to begin with."


    She cast them into the flames; as she did, they melted and burned within moments. Nendas watched as they were utterly destroyed before his eyes. Taha looked at the ground, downcast.


    And eyes turned to Nendas. And he wondered what he could give up.


    There was only one thing.


    Drawing up his sword, he looked at the blade given to him by his Father. It was well-maintained. "My sword that I have carried through many battles."


    It was a loss as he tossed it into the flames and saw it melt and burn. Nendas felt truly miserable as their eyes turned to Rokas. The third of their number, however, shrugged. "I have nothing I value in the physical. I''ve lost too much to care for such things." Then he looked to his hands where his gauntlets were. "But, my gauntlets."


    Drawing them off, he cast them into the flames and did not look at them as they burned.


    Now Sarafi came forward, holding an amulet of fine silver. "An amulet I got from my father."


    That, too, was cast into the flame as well.


    And so it began, and many people came forward with offerings. Some were met by Impus carrying false offerings, and these fled in terror. Most returned later, and soon a great bonfire was forming. Each person casts their most treasured possession. Some, however, had nothing to give, and these Impus were pardoned and sent away.


    Nendas watched it unfold with a profound sense of apathy. The ceremony seemed now wholly meaningless to him. Yet Taha seemed to regard it as though it was somehow significant. At the same time, Rokas seemed to share Taha''s view for once.


    Hours and hours stretched by. Nendas became ever more disgusted by the proceedings. Over time, he found himself loathing the ceremony. He despised the terrified people who bowed and scraped to this formless void of meaning. Even loathing Impus himself with a level of hatred that surprised him.


    Everything that had happened had been nothing more than a game of chess. All between indifferent and out-of-touch monsters. The rules had been rigged from the start and changed when no longer convenient. Taha had just humiliated the deities into admitting the sacrifice had no meaning at all.


    It was just one more means of control.


    "Your sacrifices have met my gaze.


    "I depart.


    "Do not make me return."


    Impus left.


    Many people found this a life-changing experience. But Nendas only found it completely disgusting and hated this world and everyone in it. Almost even his friends. So he turned and walked away toward... anywhere really.


    "Where are you going?" asked Rokas.


    "To get a new sword," said Nendas. "I lost mine. I think I''ll take a black one this time."


    "What about the temple?" called Sarafi. "The priests? The people here?"


    "The temple doesn''t matter," said Nendas. "And the priests are in no position to pass judgment on anyone. As for the people, this is their fault, to begin with, so let them do something about it. Taha, Rokas, come on, Kulat is going to invade in a few weeks, and we''ll need to be prepared when it happens."


    Murmurs of fear.


    "Kulat will invade?" said one.


    "Well, of course," said Nendas. "They''ve every reason to want revenge. And we''re not exactly in a position to resist them. We have to start preparing for a siege right now, or when they arrive, they''ll kill us all.


    "Stores of food must be stockpiled and rationed; weapons must be made and prepared. The walls must be inspected and repaired where necessary. I recommend requesting aid from the old vassals. I imagine Samrasa''s loyalists will be reluctant to aid us, and those he alienated will be suspicious of us. But we might get some help.


    "It''s going to be grim, bloody, and probably won''t end well for us. But if the entire city mobilizes and does all it can, we may come out of this independence. We also need to rally behind a leader quickly."


    "Will you lead us?" asked a man.


    Nendas blinked in surprise and realized he had to take the opportunity, even if it would damn him to do so. "I will."


    Nice to know nothing had changed.


    Clouds rolled in, and the rain came down in torrents.

 Chapter 126 - Twenty-Three: Many Battles

    Weeks later, Nendas made his way up the steps of the walls of Tarasif and much had changed since. The buildings nearest the walls had been torn down, and men were drilling in the ruins. Kalif stood atop, looking out over the fields where hedges and trees were being cut back. As Nendas reached the top, he looked up, feeling a wind blowing through his hair. At the top of the steps, he saw his King, Kalif, looking over it. The King looked down at him as he came to stand beside him, eyes wary.


    "So, you''re here at last?" asked Kalif.


    "There were some sick and injured to attend to from the building projects," said Nendas.


    "Well, I''ll be glad to have them back to work," said Kalif. "I''m surprised you decided to side with me. You could have become King yourself with the regard shown for you, Nendas."


    Nendas shrugged. "I am the Avatar of Jaha.


    "My purpose is to serve her, and to become King would require me to betray that service. Besides, I have no interest in the task anyway."


    "Well, I am pleased to have a supporter with such an attitude," said Kalif. He was looking down at recent arrivals. "You men, move up to the northmost fortifications; we need more men to shore up the defenses there."


    That had been the way things had gone for all this time. Kalif had been in a flurry of activity, hardly spending time in his palace. Most of his time was spent speaking with local leaders and organizing reconstruction.


    And then Taha came down the steps from where she had been meditating. Kalif did not look back. "Taha, what news from Tamar?"


    "I''ve communed with her," said Taha. "She won''t be helping us."


    "What do you mean?" asked Nendas. "Surely you''ve brought many over to her side."


    "Tamar doesn''t have many subjects in this place," said Taha. "Not of the zealous kind anyway. Most of them are east of Kulat. And she likes her subjects to earn her miracles.


    "And she has some other matter she is pouring power into. Though she mentions we might have some indirect help.


    "I have also received news from the east wind. The armies of Kulat are coming. They''ll begin their invasion soon. Nothing further east of that, though; Tamar has denied me sight."


    "Then it is fortunate we began preparations when we did," said Kalif. "You were not in error, Nendas.


    "Now, let us review our chances.


    "I have ordered the women and children to move from the city to strongholds in the mountains. They were built in ancient days. It should save us on the number of mouths we need to feed if it becomes prolonged. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Some of my best men will guard them here.


    "The priests with martial training have also pledged to aid us. We''ve torn down the houses nearest to the walls. I''ve also had the trees nearest to the city cut down and used for reinforcement. It should give us a clear line of sight.


    "Taha, can you call on the winds to aid our archers? Or does Tamar still refuse?"


    "I''m not sure it''s a good idea," said Taha. "Tamar usually demands something in return for favors. Sacrifices, incense, that sort of thing. I think she let me use her power because I didn''t do it often. She was... indulging me.


    "I''m more of a beloved pet than a worshipper.


    "I''m not sure what kind of price she''d demand assistance here.


    "And I''m not sure we can afford to start this all over."


    "For one who is newly converted, you do not seem to have much love for your god," noted Kalif.


    "Oh, I''m uh... I''m just new to her service, that''s all. I''m sure," said Taha quickly, and her words were one afraid.


    "When Kulat attacks, Rokas will be with the gate guards," said Kalif. "Nendas, you will act as a healer with the other priests of Jaha. We have plenty of men who can fight; healers are rare now."


    "I understand," said Nendas. He noted that Kalif had kept them apart so they couldn''t communicate. One duty had always drawn one off one way or another.


    At that moment, Taha stiffened. The winds howled around them.


    "...What is it?" asked Kalif.


    "They are moving," said Taha. "The armies of Kulat are coming toward the border now."


    "Well then, we must sound the evacuation," noted Kalif.


    And everyone became very busy, checking for any final vulnerabilities left unplugged. Archers manned the walls as the people in the surrounding lands were abandoned. He had long since prepared. They left with what goods they could carry, moving down the road and through the open gates. Fires were lit as they stormed in, and men directed them to seek shelter in the temples. Spears were handed out, and soon Nendas stood on the walls.


    A week, Kulat came forward in a great army, no doubt recently raised. Ranks upon ranks of spearmen stood ready while archers and horsemen marched at the front. Their plumes were flying high, and their armor was shining. Their banners were high above them, flowing green in the wind, and they made a fine spectacle.


    Then they stopped in surprise.


    No doubt they had come expecting a city tearing itself apart or built on shaky ground in the hands of a tyrant. As such, they did not seem to have anticipated finding a fortress. Especially one reinforced and guarded with torches lit against a gray sky. There were also many archers and spearmen looking down on them, ready for a fight.


    But the pause was only momentary, and soon they began to assemble for a siege. As they did, a herald rode forward in shining mail. "Hear me! I represent the King of Kulat, Chosen One of the Gods, and rightful steward of Tarasif!


    "King Samrasa was our friend and ally for many years. His death is a tragedy, and his usurpation and abomination! Now he stands on his rights to determine the succession! We demand the heads of those responsible for the death of King Samrasa, the surrender of Tarasif."


    "I am King Kalif of Tarasif, and you mistake me for a vassal," said Kalif. "Do not think that with Samrasa''s madness died all valor. We''ve defeated you once before. Now we stand with an advantage.


    "By what authority can you preside over our affairs?"


    "You would do well to have care," said the Herald. "King Kulat will not suffer from having his rights denied. He will determine who rules Tarasif as a concerned party."


    "This is absurd," said Kalif. "King Kulat was never Samrasa''s friend; you hated eachother for years. And you have been his vassal in all but name since your defeat. You sit on your throne at Tarasif''s pleasure, and you presume to dictate terms to us?


    "Go back to your own realm and take your due place. Do so, and I will be lenient."


    "What due place is afforded you, murderer of your master?" asked the herald.


    "Not a death by your blade, and my master is the Gods," replied Kalif.


    "This being your answer, I shall bear your response to him. You shall soon receive our reply," said the herald. And he rode back.


    "Well, now we come to it, don''t we?" asked Kalif. "Do you think we''ll hold?"


    "Well, I don''t think they were expecting to find this place so well-defended," admitted Nendas. "Our preparations seem to have given them pause. Kulat has already suffered a defeat, and if we''re lucky, he may settle for a renegotiation."


    "Look there," said Taha, pointing outward.


    They did look outward.


    A messenger was now riding from the north toward the Kulatian armies. His pace was breakneck, and his horse was exhausted.


    "He''s run his horse ragged," said Kalif in distaste. Kalif liked horses.


    The messenger arrived and spoke with King Kulat. There was a brief discussion. And then the herald came back.


    "King Kalif, our truest friend and ally!" said the herald. "Ill tidings have come from the east! A host of savage Amazons, bearing the banner of Queen Tamar have come to assail us! We ask now that you honor our time-honored pacts and join us to defeat a common foe!"


    Kalif nodded and looked at the image of a noble and wise king. "Indeed, your people are as brothers unto mine! Together our swords shall be drawn to defeat a great evil! The Dark Goddess Tamar shall be brought to heel and destroyed!


    "Taha, Nendas, make sure nothing happens while I''m gone. I''m entrusting the city to you."


    And everyone started moving to plan to go save Kulat. The very people who had just been sieging them were now fleeing back. In mere seconds they had become steadfast allies against a terrible common foe. The Amazons of Spirtana and her allies were among the most brutal and vicious of enemies. It was said they preyed on their own population nearly as much as their enemies.


    It was a rite of passage for an Amazon of Spirtana to find a male of their own people and kill him slowly. So the thought that they had come was enough to unite both.


    "...What?" said Nendas.


    Rokas came up now, looking confused as soon the armies started altering their plans on the fly. "Have you ever heard the expression ''trust him like a brother?''"


    "Yes," said Nendas.


    "Your nation seems to have given the phrase a very different subtext," said Rokas.


    "So it would seem," said Nendas.


    "So, we are saved, it seems," said Rokas. "And the city is saved as well, not by our hand, but by the hand of another."


    "What now, Nendas?" asked Taha.


    Nendas shrugged. "I imagine I''ll continue as the Avatar of Jaha.


    "She is... possessive, but I owe her service. She isn''t perfect, but my family has served her for ages. And I will continue to serve her until she has no more need of me."


    "Fair enough," said Taha. "I figure I''ll stay with Tamar for the moment. I''ve got a debt to repay her, so it''s the least I can do. Rokas?"


    "I shall stand with you, so long as you have need of me," said Rokas.


    The words proved prophetic.


    And so things progressed without them.


    Nendas, Rokas, and Taha set about building up the city as best they could, and many people needed their help. The first step was a full-scale purge of those profiting from persecution. They had been locked in place by the siege preparations, and now Nendas took action. He captured them, tried them for their crimes, and ordered them hung, except those Jaha chose to pardon.


    There were few of the latter.


    Their money was seized and immediately distributed in penance. Of course, it wasn''t nearly enough, but it went a long way to easing tensions. It helped that most of them were among the most despised people in the city. Samrasa, in his later years, had attracted flatterers and sycophants. He had ceased to listen to good counsel. Many were wholly unqualified. And they had made obscene displays of wealth and abused their powers.


    Nendas then proceeded to strip Samrasa''s tomb bare of all ornaments, and it took quite a while. He used the precious metals to fund the purchase of weapons and supplies. That and also rebuilding things. This was a long-standing tradition among Tarasifian Kings to desecrate their predecessor''s tomb. One the Nendas took more pleasure than he ought to in reviving.


    Samrasa''s body was left for the wolves, and his tomb was turned into a Temple for Elranor. Though very few of that cult now remained, it was all the priests could do to keep it swept and in good repair. Eventually, it was dedicated as a place of healing. One where anyone who wished could come to be healed of wounds and sickness. And many priests often stayed around there to gain recognition as miracle workers.


    However, one tradition he did not revive was the destruction of the histories and records. Especially those written by the previous King. Nendas ensured all records and data were well recorded and commissioned new ones. All are based on accounts from many living people. Taha and Rokas were among them, though Nendas himself had to be pressured into it.


    The power was quite nice, but Nendas was kept very busy. Taha often used the winds to find faraway places, and soon they went out to repair many places. And they were sure to erect several statues of stone of Kalif in various places. All to make their loyalties clear. This had been Kalif''s request, and he''d insisted on it being stone.


    Many had wondered why, but Taha pointed out the obvious.


    "Stone itself isn''t all that valuable; only the statue is," said Taha. "If you melt down a statue of gold or silver, you have a lot of money. If you melt down a statue of stone, you get nothing but ruined artwork.


    "So Kalif''s statues are likely to fare better than Samrasa''s."


    "This seems a clear indicator of the value of humility," said Rokas. "For one who is humble, their legacy lasts far longer than one who is arrogant."


    "We''ll be dealing with Samrasa''s legacy for the rest of our lives," said Nendas to this, more than a little bitter. He could not help but feel it ought to be his statue up there, but such thoughts did not befit one of his stations. So he put them to one side as absurd.


    Months passed, and wars on the border were fought. Kulat and Tarasif fought a mighty battle with Spirtana. They were vicious warriors individually, and each one was worth ten men. And their slaves were in great numbers and were driven toward them to break the lines. Yet Kulat and Tarasif proved more than a match, and in the first battle, the Spirtana were repulsed.


    But they came again, several times in a different way. Stories came of women cloaked in mist, tearing the hearts of men and devouring them. Others spoke of giant wolves ripping people apart or the trees moving. Kulat became a land of horror, and more men were needed for the fighting.


    Yet Kalif won great glory for himself, leading men to battle. Vast stretches of the evil trees were hacked down, put into a bonfire, and torched before them. The wolves were baited into traps and cut to pieces. One of the border villages was left unguarded as a feint, and the Spirtana took it. They rushed into combat and found themselves caught in an ambush, and many were killed. Those that could not escape fled to a hill to make their last stand. Some killed themselves rather than be taken hostage by men.


    But King Kulat himself was ambushed while pursuing the remaining group. They killed him by torment. His mutilated corpse was a hunger for all to see, and the Spirtana Princess took his armor, Seracula. She launched many new raids, swift strikes that killed many, leaving behind plunder. And there was soon great hatred between her and Kalif, and it was said they once came within ten feet during a battle. But Seracula''s spear was deflected by his armor, and Kalif''s was broken by her sword.


    The dead taken by Seracula were defaced, their eyes carved out, and their bodies hung by the border. And those who braved it to try and reclaim the bodies of friends were often hung beside them. But Kalif did not return the gesture. He focused instead on winning battles and securing the border. And it seemed that this made the Spirtana Women hate him all the more.


    Such were the stories that Nendas, Tamar, and Rokas heard from Tarasif. However, they were far more busy keeping the kingdom together than worrying about it. It was a lengthy process and not at all dull; the pity was more. However, the knowledge that the army could win or lose by what they did here kept them motivated. And men soon worked all the harder to know there were stakes in victory or defeat.


    Now and then, bandits and several rebels from previously conquered states cropped up. But Nendas, Tamar, and Rokas could encircle them quickly with the blessings of the gods. And when these cities saw how great the numbers they had raised were, many surrendered. Those that did not, Nendas lay siege to and were captured.


    One among them was Avatal, the homeland of a notable Incarnation of the Land, Aais. For a long time, it had chafed under Tarasif, and now it sought to regain independence. But Taha and Rokas scaled the walls by stealth during the night. Their small force surprised the guards at the gate, killed them, and opened it wide.


    At the showing of a torch, Nendas led his men in, and they stormed the city. But Nendas ordered that none who threw down their weapons would be harmed. And no one was slain save the defenders. Beneath their onslaught, the city was taken within the hour. King Aais was taken prisoner and dragged back to Tarasif.


    Another time, the Northern peoples from the land of Viokinar came down in great ships. They sought to raid along rivers and lay waste to them. Word had come of their arrival from Dinis and farther away lands, which may have been why no war came from the west. But Taha saw their progress, and they stretched a great chain across the river to block them. As their vessels pulled to a halt, Rokas sailed a vessel piled with straw, wood, and pitch into their midsts. Setting it aflame, the whole fleet was burned to the water. As the Northerners fled onto the shore, they found the men of Tarasif waiting.


    It was a gruesome battle, for the minotaurs were huge, and their fur coats had heavy mail beneath them. They fought to the last but were divided, encircled, and destroyed.


    The Hasafa Clan proved themselves as strong as ever here. Sarafi herself proclaimed Nendas as the new Head of the Clan. Many men told Nendas to take up the crown and become King, but he dismissed it and told them not to ask again.


    The mood of dread and horror which had come to full flower during Samrasa dissipated. Many believed the Empire of Tarasif was doomed, but it did not come to pass. In a desperate scramble to save their land, the men managed to succeed and grow stronger. There was greater strength in the people than had been anticipated.


    When Kalif returned, Nendas presented him with his scepter and stepped away in relief. And Kalif bid him stand, hearing of his deeds and achievements. "You three are the noblest of all my warriors," said Kalif.


    And Nendas reflected it was more or less true.


    It was nice to finally get some recognition as such. He could have seized control in Kalif''s absence, but it would not have been a victory worth having. The pleasure of command had worn off and become exhausting. Nendas was not so much a fool as to believe he was entitled to the office.


    But the good news continued to flow.


    It soon turned out that Kalif had won and conquered several regions abroad. He brought the Kings within into Tarasif. One among them was the region of Tarsus from which Taha was descended. And soon, they were sent on missions to secure those regions and bring them into the fold. And Kulat and many other nations gave pledges of eternal friendship. Nobody believed they would last five minutes once they started losing. But that did not seem likely, for Dinis to the west was beset by another civil war.


    And the leader, having won, soon found himself pressed on the border by a King named Asim Sahshir. He likely would likely be fighting a lengthy war and pledged friendship with Tarasif. And Kalif, content with his victory thus far, turned his mind to administration: that and the proper ordering of the realm. Soon the borders were strengthened, and peace reigned more truly than ever before. Garrisons of well-trained troops were established, and as years passed. All three were hailed as heroes, though not so much in Kulat.


    Taha, for her part, often spoke of philosophy with many people and soon gathered disciples to her. And even as Tamar''s people were defeated abroad, a cult began to spring up in her old homeland and Tarasif. Nendas saw her speaking to them and preaching the word of Tamar mixed with her own. And they taught the same to the children they had together, and there were many of them, as many as fourteen.


    Fortunately, Taha''s cult was not as violent as the one in Spirtana. Kalif created a temple to Tamar in thanks for victory. That temple soon became a place where many gathered and spoke. And all the while, the land of Spirtana was forced to drawback, the losses becoming too great. Having failed in their conquests and gained little plunder for it. The Queen was soon beset by assassination attempts. She had killed several of her children. Slave revolts soon broke out, and their coffers were empty.


    And eventually, Taha was called in to mediate the dispute, marking the ascendance of her cult. Small wonder then that Tamar began to favor Tarasif more than Spirtana. Priests of Tarasif were soon known far more for their philosophy than brutality. So that soon, the original cult was almost a branch, and men spoke. Especially now, the true Tamar had been seen. And when Nendas finally wedded Taha, people began to say that Tarasif had stolen Tamar from her land as a bride.


    *There are no further records to draw on.


    I need coffee.

 Chapter 127 - Book 6: Road of Chaos

    And Gods of Samrasa is done. Time to stall by talking about the writing process for a bit so I can have a buffer chapter.


    This story is notable because it originally started out as fanfic for an existing series. However, while writing it, I became convinced that the characters were too different. The AU card could only cover so much, so I changed it to original work.


    Originally the story started out In medias res. It featured Nendas, Taha, and Rokas hunting worshippers of Elranor. However, I decided that it was far too unsympathetic a start for the protagonists. Thus, the story was scaled back to the very beginning. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    This put Gods of Samrasa in an interesting position as a foil to William''s story. Since William''s story was likewise meant to begin with William in his prime and powerful. Only to be scaled back to the present beginning.


    Both Nendas and William ended up becoming foils to one another, as I wrote. William is a disappointment who becomes what he believes he should be and is happier. Nendas is already a paragon at the start of the story. He is forced into a treacherous existence under Samrasa. Much of his arc is about Nendas trying to keep his soul, survive, and get his revenge for his Father''s murder.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    This convinced me to use the framing device I did. That being of Tanith translating the documents and William compiling them.


    However, there are actually two variations on this. The original version of Gods of Samrasa happens much later in the series.


    On Wattpad, William writes Gods of Samrasa almost nine books after canon. He does this of his own will in response to personal tragedies. While in Royalroad, Tanith bullies him into doing it for her.


    The decision to move back was largely out of a desire for good pacing. I felt Gods of Samrasa''s presence in the book series dragged down important events. In addition, I wanted to establish Nendas, Rokas, and Taha in the world''s backstory earlier. I''ve got plans for the three in the future, which will eventually play into things. Tarasif is in the far east and largely inaccessible from Harlenor.


    This brings me to the next installment I have planned.


    It will be called Road of Chaos and deal with the fallout of Tanith''s actions in Gel Carn. It will also elaborate a great deal on the geography and politics of Antion proper. Up until now, the Holy City of Antion has been referenced but never seen.


    We''ll also have an opportunity to meet quite a few influential people.


    See you next time.

 Chapter 128 - Book One: The Plague

    The holy city was collapsing from within.


    Princess Ansara strode through the well-maintained halls. It was placed largely empty with crumbling mortar. But the passing of many years since its construction could not take away the grandeur. The servants had only recently cleaned this area, setting up banners and such. It was a bitter irony that so much effort should go into hanging heraldry for her house. This meeting was hardly one that Ansara thought people would want to remember.


    She decided to take it as a sign the servants cared. At least more than her Mother.


    Her Father, Prince Bor Antion was a bulky man with orangish brown hair and a neat beard. His eyes were blue, and he looked tired in his fur cloak. "Ansara, what are you doing here? I told you I was having a meeting."


    Ansara stood firm beneath his doubting glance. It was a good question for him to ask. "I''m a disobedient child, Father. One day, I will be Queen of Antion, and I want to be Queen in my own right."


    "This is no laughing matter we are discussing here today," said Bor. "What happens here is of vital importance."


    "I want to see it for myself," said Ansara. "It concerns me."


    "...Very well, but you must speak to no one without my permission," said Bor.


    "As you wish," lied Ansara. "If I might ask, why are we meeting here?"


    "Father left it long ago and operated in a much smaller and easier-to-defend area," said Bor. "Though he deals mainly with foreign policy and negotiations.


    "He''s not as young as he once was, though."


    Coming to a door reinforced with iron, he fit in a key and opened it. Opening it, he motioned to his bodyguards, who entered. When they gave the all-clear, Bor went through, followed by Ansara.


    Within, Ansara saw two men and their guards sitting at a long rectangular table of strong but faded wood. The walls here were better made and repairs had been made in this room. You had an armoire on one wall, placed close to a chair. Duke Letan had taken that chair, which Ansara supposed the others appreciated. The Duke was clad in a blue military uniform, the sort used at knighting ceremonies. His clothes were military uniforms made in other worlds, with a high collar and dark fabric.


    His gaze fell over her, and Ansara faltered.


    "Ah, Your Highness, we were expecting you," said the other, and for a moment, Ansara thought he''d said it to her. But, of course, he was looking at Father, not her; she was merely behind him.


    The man himself looked very fine indeed. He was clad in a green button-down shirt with loose white sleeves and a dark cloak. He had short, dark hair and looked about forty. He smiled politely, and several warriors with short swords were behind him. A little ways off, Ansara saw a boy with a curved knife, and well...


    The boy was beautiful. He had spiky dark hair falling over one eye and smooth, unscarred features. Clad in a blue tunic, he sat near Arkan, who had bright blue eyes and tranquil features. His hands were clasped before him on the table, and he was clean-shaven and with a slender build.


    Was he a protege?


    And then there was Saul near Marn, looking analytical as always. Then was another; a little further down by the shadows, there was a giant of a man. He wore black armor as dark as a moonless night, and his eyes glowed with an evil yellow. His skin was dark, and on his back was a sword as large as he was tall.


    "I apologize, Arkan. We''ve had much work elsewhere," said Father, sitting down. "Duke Marn."


    "I stand ready to serve, of course," said Duke Marn.


    "And am I right in assuming this is your daughter, young Ansara?" asked Arkan, standing and kissing her hand.


    "I am," said Ansara, reminding herself she must appear weak. "Would you be Arkan, the leader of the Thieves Guild?"


    Arkan smiled somewhat begrudgingly. "Yes, a somewhat ceremonial position that is wholly real. Don''t mind Tavish or my son, Lamech; they are professional and merely here to observe." He did not mention the guards around them, waiting to spring into action. "In my company is Duke Letan Marn and the Lady Atravain, as well as the Lord Dunmore of the Paladin Order."


    Lamech was his son? Why was he wearing such evil attire? Especially since he had glowing yellow eyes and a sword nearly his size. Was Lamech making some statement?


    "Perhaps we should get to business," said Letan.


    And they sat down. But Ansara knew she must establish herself as credible and not merely a pretty face in over her head. "I would first like to know exactly why the royal family needs to work with a Thieves Guild?"


    "Ah, yes, the question no one dares to ask," laughed Arkan.


    "You may answer it, Arkan," said Bor. Lamech looked to Bor, and then Arkan and Ansara wondered why. Armored gauntlets were clasped together. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes, I''d like to hear his justification," said Marn, looking down the table to Dunmoore, who nodded. Dunmoore was of the Paladin Order and had at his side a long sword with the lion of the Paladin Order on it. But he said nothing.


    Neither did Lamech, as usual, simply observing everyone in the room.


    "It''s a somewhat sophisticated answer," said Arkan. "You see, crime is an inevitable part of every society."


    "But why do we need a Thieves Guild?" asked Ansara.


    "To regulate crime, of course," said Arkan.


    "Do we not have the city guard for that?" asked Ansara.


    "Well, the city guard has uses, of course," said Arkan, retreating under her gaze. "But they know nothing of how we operate. My organization knows everything there is to know about its operations. Ten years ago, many people died because isolated villages had to wait for a traveling healer. These days, though, every village in the heartlands has its outpost." Ansara knew this to be an exaggeration, but it couldn''t be denied there had been some effect.


    "And why could this not be done by the nobility?" asked Ansara. Lamech looked to the door as though expecting an attack.


    "Well, the law and the nobility are occupied with many important matters. From war in countries far away to selling goods in other regions," said Arkan, shifting. "And the law must work very, very, hard to lower crime even slightly. All we have to do is work less."


    "If we''re going to have crime, we might as well have organized crime," surmised Ansara.


    "Perhaps we should return to the subject of this meeting, Lord Bor," said Arkan.


    "Duke Marn, if you would," said Bor with a nod.


    "Gentlemen, I shall be honest; we''re about to face a major economic crisis," said Marn. "Numerous businesses are facing a full shutdown within Antion and outside of it. And many of the weapon merchants were already in serious trouble. If nothing is done, Antion could collapse."


    Ansara paused and considered how best to present herself. "I''ve walked Antion''s streets and seen no sign of this." Granted, she''d been well-armed with Arkan''s guards, which is more than most could say.


    "It hasn''t hit yet," said Letan. "Elsewhere, the Calishan Wars ended too early. Duke Vanion is quite a shrewd player."


    "I can back this up," said Tavish. "Vanion didn''t rise as quickly as he did by being lazy."


    Ansara had met the man; his ambition was beyond limitless. The moment he walked into the palace, he immediately started looking for opportunities. Vanion did excellent service. And when he did not receive the reward he wanted, he destroyed the people who got it instead. Argath Marn, Borinius, the nobility of Artarq, the satyr clans who opposed him, and even his allies.


    Each had been given something he believed was rightfully his. So, he engineered their downfall and took his rightful place. His record was terrifying and wonderful to read. He might have been the greatest thief who ever lived, but Vanion would never lower himself to be a thief.


    "We suspect," said Bor. "They may try to arrange a political marriage between their house and our own."


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    "Would they truly dare that?" asked Ansara.


    "He is a political adversary to me, as any of you know," said Marn.


    "Oh yeah, personal desires and emotions aren''t important," said Tavish. "We''re benevolent and well-intentioned masterminds interested in the common good of the realm."


    "I note the disdain in your tone, Tavish," said Dunmoore. "I fear your pride has been wounded."


    "I''ll admit we''ve grown lax from fearing only the Paladin Order," said Dunmoore.


    "You insult me," said Dunmoore.


    "Dueling is illegal," said Lamech. "The fact that you are offended means nothing."


    "Lamech, Tavish, Dunmoore," said Father. "Do you have suggestions about what to do about William?" Let them think she is an enemy, and she could guess how they would act.


    "You could just send him an invitation into the order and then send William off to some far-off place," said Tavish. "That would instantly cut this entire movement down in the bud."


    "The Paladin Order is not a social club," said Dunmoore. "Membership is not granted solely for political convenience."


    Letan, Dunmoore, and Arkan had despised one another for years; that was obvious. Only now was it escalating, and they were losing sight of the true problem.


    "This is off the point," said Letan. "There are reports of families squatting in the lands west of Brisgald. I also have accounts that they have taken to freeing or murdering slaves. Others have turned to outright banditry. More than I would have liked."


    Ansara paused. "But where did these men come from?"


    "They are Harleorians, milady," said Marn. "Men who lost their lands because they went to war and had their lands bought while they were gone. My Uncle, Argath Marn, has often written to me. I believe Lady Atravain can explain the details."


    At that moment, Ansara became aware of Lady Atravain. She had been introduced before, but she had faded into the background. She was a tall, pale-skinned woman in the shadows. Her hair was white, and her face seemed frozen in place, pale and perfect in complexion. Yet also terrible, somehow. Her eldest daughter, Janice, was sitting to one side. "It is their fault.


    "My purpose as a noble is to ensure the prosperity of the domain as a whole, not cater to every lazy farmer. These men made foolish financial decisions and were forced to sell their farms. It is hardly my responsibility if they don''t want to do the work of raising crops.


    "The fields have to be grown by someone, and since they will not do it, we arrange for slaves to do it. They must pay the price for their economic missteps."


    "Isn''t that somewhat heartless?" asked Ansara, despite herself.


    "It may seem so on the surface, but I do not think you fully understand the situation," said Atravain. "Many of these men view humans as superior and all others weak and worthy of destruction. Yes, of course, people in Antion and people as a whole understand the truth. But some of these people are backward, and many are driven by hatred.


    "There is no good economic reason to go on crusade."


    "Very fine words to describe the entire population of Antion, milady," said Dunmoore. "I may take your words as a personal insult."


    "Of course, not all of them fit this description," said Atravain, looking at him with irritation. As if repeating something often said to others and annoyed her view was not shared. "I was merely speaking in very general terms."


    "All the same, shouldn''t we talk to them or do something about this?" asked Ansara, deciding she had to intervene. "We can''t just repay violence with violence."


    "Yes, well, myself and the other Lords have been hiring some of them," said Atravain. "We might have bolstered the border guard against Arraxia. Yet satyrs have stopped raiding, so even employed fighting men are of ill repute. If only Vanion hadn''t ended the war before it even began, this wouldn''t be a problem."


    "Because they''d have all died and never find out what you did to them?" asked Tavish. "I thought you opposed them going to war."


    "That is an insult," said Atravain.


    "I was suggesting that you pay the price for your own economic missteps," said Tavish.


    "Enough," said Bor. "Arkan, you will speak."


    "Yes, well, all of this culminated in a very dangerous situation," said Arkan. "These rebels, if you permit the word, have been whipped into a frenzy. Culminating in a letter from Reg Hawkthorne, given to me. Most of us have already read it. I have it here if you wish."


    Ansara took the letter. "Perhaps you could give me a summary."


    "As you wish," said Dunmoore. "He has effectively taken over the port of Ascorn on the northern shore, using an army of mercenaries. Baron Rius is alive but a prisoner, and he wants me to help him out. I have also been told that Babarassian mercenaries have been filtering in for some time. They are one of the major operatives of the slave trade. Reg claims to be acting on behalf of House Gabriel."


    "Isn''t House Hawkthorne an ally of House Gabriel?" asked Ansara, thinking of the Hawkthorne''s deplorable reputation.


    "Technically, yes," said Letan. "For all intents and purposes, no. Vanion''s brother Arthur did marry one of the Baron''s daughters, but the dowry was small. She made no contact with her family after leaving. Hawkthorne is little more than a subordinate House to House De Chevlon. And given that it is the vampire half of the De Chevlon''s, it is hardly even that."


    "...I don''t understand," admitted Ansara.


    "House De Chevlon has two houses," said Letan. "One, a living noble house that handles important affairs. And one in which every person within wants to become a vampire. And two, a clan of vampires that make all the real decisions. Some decades ago, there was a schism. The humans broke with the vampires, save for Saphra De Chevlon.


    "And the Baroness Saphra has been exchanging letters with Raynald De Chevlon."


    "Raynald is Vanion''s chief lieutenant, yes?" asked Ansara.


    "Indeed," said Bor. "The two have had a long association. Once, Raynald was the leader. But Vanion has since surpassed him."


    "So this was done by House Gabriel?" asked Ansara, deciding to get to the point.


    "Probably not," said Arkan, shaking his head. "This move is far too sloppy to ever be done by Vanion. We are already handling it and we expect things should return to normal."


    "The problem is that the slave trade has been completely shut down in the meantime," said Atravain. "The Baroness De Chevlon has bought up every single slave she could find on the market. Then they shipped them all off to Castle Blackfear. And Sorn buys most of the slaves in the Sea of Power market.


    "Slaves die on the job, and they rarely reproduce. And there are reports of plagues spreading among them. Abolitionists have even freed some."


    "What is the source of this plague?" asked Ansara. She had no power here, and she had to remember it. All she could hope was that Father would realize she wasn''t as stupid as she had pretended to be.


    They haven''t spent much time together recently.


    "Plagues happen now and then," said Atravain. "It will pass in time, and we have more healers to deal with it than ever before. The problem is the timing.


    "Without manpower, there will be no crops. The city of Antion could starve if a solution is not found. Some crops are already ripening, and there aren''t people to harvest them. I have been hiring hands, but it is expensive.


    "My finances are limited.


    "If people start starving, the Kingdom will collapse. It is as simple as that."


    "I already have one if it is to be allowed," said Arkan.


    "And what is that?" asked Bor, surprised.


    "For some time now, I have been communicating with King Gavin of Haldren''s go-between," said Arkan. "Since malas production has become more efficient than ever, we should humor him. If malas do not have a legitimate buyer, someone will find an illegitimate one."


    "How does this help us?" asked Ansara.


    "Haldren has many problems of its own," said Arkan. "Among them are the Furbearers, as they are called. They subsist upon raw fish and once worshiped the Withering. Many battles were fought with them to drive them out.


    "Now, however, they are limited to the western shore and the Islands of Torment."


    "I have had to civilize some of the creatures on my plantations," said Atravain. "They are illiterate, subsist on raw meat, and hardly better than satyrs. However, they share their ability to survive the conditions. Harlenorian slaves are less suited to the task.


    "They could make ideal workers for the plantations."


    "Yes," said Arkan. "Lord Rius has arranged for the Babarassians to establish colonies. They are situated on the Islands of Torment and are trading ports. Traders to dock and sell wares without restrictive fees.


    "It provides opportunities for commerce that aren''t usually available. Several such operations are also held on the shores."


    "But why would we allow the Babarassians to do so? Is that entirely safe?" asked Ansara.


    "Perhaps not, but every action has risks, even the act of doing nothing," said Arkan. "Apparently, they believe it is worth the risk."


    Ansara hadn''t read the official records, but there was no time for it now.


    "At any rate, King Gavin has agreed to provide shipments of slaves taken from the Furbearers. He''ll send them to the domain of Baron Rius," said Arkan. "In exchange, he requires shipments of malas, all to perform certain necessary rituals."


    "But all this talk of slavery, is it really right? Couldn''t we just hire more hands?" asked Ansara.


    "Can we hire hands from a population that will not work?" asked Atravain, looking angry.


    Lady Atravain had good reason to hate the common people. Ansara had read stories of the horrors her lands had endured. Criminals and demon cults had taken root. Once a proper young lady, she''d nearly been savaged several times. No one had given her position of authority even the slightest bit of respect. Borinius had been of little use.


    That was when Raynald, Kafka, Vanion, Arthur, and all the others came to her aid. Even then, they still rebelled against her. And her solution, in the end, was simple;


    Turn Kafka loose.


    That was probably why Tavish hated her.


    Ansara had to admit she was finding this a bit hard to follow, but she kept listening.


    "Hiring more workers would be expensive," said Atravain. "And that is assuming that they don''t plant spies for bandits. King Andoa abolished the militia system, which was the best thing he had ever done. But we ought to have disarmed them entirely; then we could have simply dictated what needed to be done."


    "Enlisting the services of additional laborers is not practical," said Letan. "And they are liable to be bitter if, having lost their farms, they are hired back as despised servants.


    "In the long term, I am an abolitionist. Unfortunately, if slavery were abolished tomorrow, Antion would starve. A new source of slaves must be found in this year''s harvest to come in."


    "There may be a means by which it can be made easier," noted Arkan. "I have been establishing settlements for some time that cater to off-the-books outposts. In them, I find men work as caravan guards and enforcers. I am certain I can arrange for them to be put to work.


    "Perhaps in hunting the satyr clans gathering on the knees of the Black Mountain."


    "I have not heard of this," said Bor.


    "They have been doing so mostly within the bounds of the Black Mountain," said Arkan. "So far as we can tell, many of them are escaped slaves. Others have come from the Black Marshes of Gel Carn or Seathorius. And there were always settlements of them on the bounds of Blackfear.


    "Over the past few years, their numbers have swelled. I believe we could establish fortifications on the border with them. Using these, we could hem them in. We could prevent any sudden onslaughts, as well as arrange trade opportunities."


    "What kind of trade opportunities?" asked Ansara.


    "Well, satyrs have always had a great love of alcohol," said Arkan. "I expect there will be a serious market there. That will help keep them complacent. All the thuggish fighting men will be kept occupied while we operate freely.


    "By the time events die down, we should have the situation fully in hand."


    "Why would Neral Dinis turn a blind eye to it?" asked Ansara, shuddering at the memory of the vampire lord.


    "Well, he is a vampire," said Arkan


    "For now..." said Ansara. "Are we all agreed?"


    Everyone looked at one another.


    "We are," said Bor.


    Ansara was not looking forward to what came next.

 Chapter 129 - One: The Mission

    House Gabriel had been very busy with the consequences of profit.


    Lands were distributed to victorious soldiers in place of plunder. Many of the new colonies in Khasmir would require a garrison.Meanwhile, the Calishans and Harlenorians were still hunting the remaining demons.


    William Gabriel had not been idle.


    And now he was home.


    The palace of Arsheen was beautiful. A place of white walls, meticulously clean and flowing fountains. The air was cool, even in the blazing sun that had become all too common of late. They stood upon a great plateau at the center of the city. The steps of the tower where his father had set his office winded upwards in a spiral. Father had been here a great deal of late, with Mother off at the border. Servants said that he often stayed within this high tower for hours, and whispers had been heard.


    Often, he would come back to town to spend time with Soren and Calgora and drink bread and water. Then, he would return like a man to battle and say nothing of what he saw. Yet, often, servants thought he was fighting some private battle. There, he pitted his will against an enemy unseen.


    As he came to the door, William thought this utter nonsense. So he knocked and then opened the door.


    Duke Vanion was sitting at his desk, hands hovering over a crystal ball. The walls were filled with books on shelves. Each one had been read a hundred times on subjects from magic to war. The Duke''s dark hair and clean-shaven features fell around his shoulders. His blue cloak concealed all but his hands, and he had black gloves on them. William wondered where he had gotten that orb of crystal.


    The others created by Rusara were mere copies.


    "Where did you get that crystal ball?" asked William. "If you don''t mind me asking?"


    "Oh, during my adventures in Themious," said Vanion. "A prize won in Spirtana, I think. It was all long ago. It might have been somewhere; I have the record somewhere."


    "I''ve been looking through our recent finances. House Gabriel has become unassailably wealthy through our rule of Artarq. And we are becoming richer still. Malas provides a steady profit. But our strong position in Ran Telus and Artarq has ensured we control major trade lanes. All the new trade between Calisha and Harlenor is going through us. And we have more money than we know what to do with. It''s become something of a problem."


    "What do you mean?" asked William. "Surely we need the money."


    "Wealth is like food, William," said Father. "Once you have a certain amount, you don''t need anymore."


    "What of the temple to Kiyora and Typhos?" asked William. "That''s immensely expensive."


    "Well, it was a repair and renovation job," admitted Vanion. "Though splendidly done by the architects Vensus and Brinsiege. But, we''ve made back virtually all we spent on it by pilgrims. I have given out much of our profits to the fighting men as prizes for Khasmir. That''s done a great deal. It has helped out colonization. But it is only a stopgap measure."


    "Surely having an added supply of finance is a good thing," said William.


    "Untapped success is a problem, William," said Vanion. "When you become powerful, it attracts attention. If you do not make the best use of that power, you will be destroyed. I''ve heard whispers of ill contentment and jealousy against House Gabriel."


    "So what will we do?" asked William.


    "For now?" asked Vanion. "I plan to institute a new welfare system, one intended to help the needy. People don''t usually become criminals without a motive."


    "Uncle Arthur says there such a thing as malice and revenge, Father," said William.


    "Certainly there is," said Father. "I am pleased you remember. But malice and revenge make poor motivations."


    "I''m not sure that''s true, Father," said Willliam.


    "Good," laughed Vanion. "You ought to have some different opinions from myself. Speaking of which, I need you to seek a meeting with Adrian Wrynncurth in Gel Carn. Tanith was unwise in her behavior there, making us some powerful enemies."


    William remembered tales of the fiasco. Tanith had, according to some reports, nearly started a war. However, others had argued that the war had already started. By that line of argument, Tanith only forced Benarus into action. She''d not spoken of strange events in Antion, save mentioning killing many bandits. Tanith had a military mind, after all. "Why am I being chosen?"


    "Because you are capable, and you have not had anything to occupy yourself," said Vanion with a wry smile. "I think you could use another opportunity to prove yourself."


    "Ah, of course," said William. "And traveling to heal every village in Artarq does not count?"


    "Not now that the main pandemics have been blunted," said Vanion. "You''ve run the circuit several times by now. And I''m arranging for other healers to take your place.


    "I doubt they shall have a difficult time. Rusara assures me your powers of healing are truly immense. It also lets you speak to people and get a sense of what is going on. And you can figure out what is going on for yourself. Raynald and Rusara have something they would also talk to you about."


    William considered things. "I''ll take Felix and Massacre with me, then. They should be more than enough. I wish I could take Tanith, but she wouldn''t be welcome."


    "She might be able to go with you to Ascorn," noted Vanion. "And Rusara should make arrangements. Your Mother and I, however, will not be able to see you off. I''m afraid that I have to leave almost at once. I have to mediate some disputes between one of our appointed Lords and one of his neighbors.


    "Sarris has taken offense to certain actions by his neighbor, Dufray, and there was a skirmish. Several men were killed, and if unchecked, this could lead to a flare-up. Some among the former nobility are convinced I''m trying to supplant them."


    "But you are, aren''t you?" asked William.


    Vanion shrugged. "Not exactly. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "If they are loyal, I take no action against them and accept them as loyal subjects. If they betray me, I sideline them and replace them with someone loyal and competent. Then, I provide them a means of their family to get things back. Those who I have stripped of their lands have only themselves to blame.


    "A society can only be orderly when everyone has a stake in the system. If even one group is left out, they will eventually become alienated enough to burn it down. Oh, one more thing." Vanion drew out some letters. "Take these to our relatives in Brisgald. The one with the red string should be given only to your Uncle Arthur or someone to hold it for him. The others should be given to Auga and Vorn preferably, or Arthur if you can''t get them."


    "Can I have more information?" asked William.


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    "I''m afraid not," said Vanion. "You see, there are certain plans we are interacting with. And Melchious could be part of them. I''d tell him how I intended to foil him if he was. Things have been set to put you in the right place at the right time. Hopefully. But be prepared to improvise; nothing ever goes fully as planned."


    "Right," said William, smiling.


    Vanion put the letters into a case and handed them to William. William smiled at the responsibility and nodded. Then he went out and down the steps, feeling happier than he had in a long time. Father had trusted him with something, a duty of apparent great import.


    Of course, he wasn''t telling him everything, but it made sense. Father was telling him what he needed to know, and he had faith he''d be able to do what needed to be done. It showed that William was considered a genuine asset now.


    He hardly noticed the tower''s steps as he walked through the halls. As he did, he noticed Tanith staring at a tapestry. It showed a faraway land Mother had identified as Themious, her homeland. There were many figures, dryads dancing, and warriors fighting; all save one were women.


    A little further down, there was another one with the Goddesses of Themious on it. Above them was Zeya with a lightning bolt in hand in the center. White robes rippled around her form, as did her hair. Then there was a golden-haired woman in green and white with a harp, Isriath, Goddess of Music, to her right. To her left was a long-haired pink-haired goddess wielding a scythe. That Imogen, Goddess of Thievery and Healing {She''d stolen the power from Elranor.}. And to her left was the figure of Tamar, wielding her fans to conjure up winds.


    And opposite Tamar was a dancing figure clad in revealing red-wielding fans. Yet these were throwing flames, and the Goddess drank from a gourd. Her long brown hair was tied up in a ponytail and flowing around her. And at the bottom of the picture was the Shark Queen, the proxy Goddess of Death. She had blonde hair and tan skin yet was half-bestial.


    At the center of them was a dark-haired woman clad in red and gold armor with bared legs and arms. She was hovering as though sleeping. William remembered she was called Themousia, Goddess of Truth.


    If memory served, she had beaten Mother to the position.


    Tanith''s blonde hair had gotten longer, and her face looked odd. She didn''t look like herself; her smile was a different kind of confidence. And a hand was hovering over the image of Tamar.


    "Admiring the artwork?" asked William.


    Tanith shook awake as if from a trance, the movement causing her bosom to rise and fall appealingly. "Yes. I''m not sure who made this, is all. It''s very accurate."


    "Isriath, Goddess of Arts and Music," said William. "She presented this as a gift to Mother after Calgora was born. And Soren was given the other as a gift. They were hand-weaved by her."


    "I don''t remember them weaving anything for you," noted Tanith.


    "She didn''t," said William sourly.


    "Oh right," said Tanith. "Well, that would explain why they got the image so wrong. I met Maius and Isriath on my journey. We got on pretty well when I ran into them in Calisha. They seemed to have heard of me."


    "They heard of you?" asked William, feeling slightly insulted.


    "Well, I am the better swordfighter," noted Tanith.


    "That''s not the point," said William. "I am the son of Princess Azgora, one of the heroes of Themious. They thought it worth giving gifts to Soren and Calgora when they were born. So Mother can''t have exaggerated that much.


    "You, Tanith, are of lower rank than me on both counts. So why am I being stepped over?"


    "Well, you were kind of weak-willed back then," said Tanith.


    "But that''s how Themiousian men are expected to behave," said William. "And anyway, they could hardly tell what my life would be like before it happened."


    "Well, apparently, Maius loved my work anyway," said Tanith.


    "In Calisha?" asked William.


    "Yeah, Maius has been shut out there for ages," said Tanith. "Baltoth hates revelry, and it keeps her from being able to act. Though Isriath does some business there."


    William remembered some of Tanith''s war stories. "Which work did Isriath love, exactly?"


    Tanith shrugged and smiled. "I did a lot of work, but we were otherwise distracted.


    "I hear Isriath''s been working with the Sorcerer''s Guild. Helping them with spellwork and such. Artwork and spellwork have some things in common. Anyway, Rusara and Raynald want to talk to you."


    "I know," said William.


    Parting ways with Tanith, William felt a little annoyed at what he''d learned. He put it at the back of his mind as he made his way into the training hall. In the hall, he found Raynald and Rusara instructing recruits.


    Quickly, Raynald looked up and a smile came to his scarred face. And then they explained things.


    "A Tournament of Kings?" asked William.


    "Well, not of Kings," said Rusara. "There are not enough Kings in Harlenor to complete an entire tournament. But representatives of the Kings will be there. We think it would be best to have someone represent Artarq."


    "Why not Tanith? She''s the better swordsman and knows the way," noted William.


    "I can''t send Tanith, William," said Raynald. "It''s in Gel Carn.


    "She crossed Adrian Wrynncurth, and he is in control of the finances for the entire region. And when he sent two dragons after her, she killed both. Sending her back there is a bad idea. I''d go myself, but Vanion needs me here as a commander. So the only person I have left who can represent us is you. Anyone else would hardly be noticed at all."


    "I see," said William. "Well, I was being sent that way anyway."


    "We know," said Rusara. "We''re all plotting to manipulate you as part of an elaborate revenge scheme."


    William laughed. "Well, obviously, and I permit you your dreams.


    "But Raynald, I do not know that land at all. I''ve read about Brisgald and Varsus living there with the rest of our family. But south, I know virtually nothing."


    "You don''t have to worry," said Rusara. "I''ve arranged for a guide for you, a Druid of Laevian named Jehair."


    "Is she any good?" asked William.


    "You don''t imagine I''d put your life in the hands of an incompetent, William?" asked Rusara.


    "No, I suppose not," said William. "I''ll take Felix and Massacre with me, then. They should be more than sufficient as guards for my purposes. And my armor and weapons, of course."


    "Then you''d best become prepared soon. It would be wise to head out as soon as possible," said Raynald. "Jehair will probably get there ahead of you. She is a high-elven woman with long blonde hair and an overbearing personality. Here is a picture of her; don''t lose it." And he drew up a portrait, one that was very well made. "Don''t worry, she always keeps her word."


    It showed a beautiful elven women with long ears and braids. She had smoldering eyes even through the picture, clad in leather. Her expression was resolved but sad, and her arms were bare with her blonde hair combed back. She had a slim waist and was very buxom. Her hips were wide.


    "There is one other thing," said Rusara. "William, I was wondering if you could do me a favor while you are there?"


    William paused. "Of course."


    "You remember the Fists of Baltoth?" asked Rusara.


    "The malas smuggling gang Father''s men wiped out?" asked William.


    "Well, we believe they had a lot of contacts in Antion," said Raynald. "They and many other gangs, though they wouldn''t be using the same name. And judging from some letters, we confiscated from their operation. There are some very extensive operations. The criminal element in Antion was a problem before.


    "But it seems to be growing far worse. Frankly, it''s been worse for years, and no one is reporting on it. If you could keep an eye out for any information while journeying, I''m sure it would help."


    "Thank you," said William.


    "Oh," said Raynald. "One last thing. We''ve heard that the Heir of Kings has arisen and proclaimed herself."


    William halted. "Herself?"


    "Her name is Relma Artorious," said Rusara. "Arengeth had her raised to be the Mother of the King, but she seems to have ambitions of her own. We''d like you to take her measure when you arrive and tell us what she''s like. It could be very important."


    "Oh, come now, Lady Rusara," said William. "No one is going to bow to someone just because of their bloodlines, no matter how noble."


    "I certainly hope not," said Rusara. "But she could be more dangerous than we think. That''s why we''re sending you. Jehair should be at the port of Ascus on the northern part of Antion. You''ll find her at the Grip of Steel Inn, in the company of Amenos. Do you remember him?"


    "Yes, he was your lieutenant in the Khasmir campaign, taller than most Dust Elves," said William.


    "Good," said Rusara. "Look for him, and you''ll find Jehair nearby. Though he will not accompany you all the way, he''ll break off for other business."


    William walked out, wondering what the point of all this was.


    He decided that Rusara and Raynald were pretending to operate by a different plan. Father would know of such an action so they would not be so foolish. But if Melchious saw the two different scenes, it might confuse him.


    Either way, Felix was waiting outside in the shadows, arms crossed. He was dressed for travel in black, as was his custom. "So, what news?"


    "We''re going to Antion, Felix. Raynald needs us to fill in for Tanith in the Tournament of Kings," said William. "Someone called Relma Artorious is proclaiming herself to be Anoa''s heir."


    "So the Heir of King''s has arisen, then?" said Felix, voice strange.


    "I wish," laughed William, walking past. "We''re probably just going to see a noble with delusions of grandeur."


    "No, we have a problem," said Felix as he fell in. "You can count on it."


    Finding Massacre the chimera around the corner, William saw her sleeping. As usual, only her goat head was awake. Yet, as usual, she knew more than she let on.


    "Massacre, I''ll need you with me," said William. "I don''t have the Goldenwood Harp, but I''d play for you as best I can."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Let''s make our plans, then," said William. "And hope for an uneventful trip."


    But he wouldn''t get one, and everyone knew it. Trips were never uneventful for William Gabriel.

 Chapter 130 - Two: The High Seas

    Tanith Telus was in the best of moods.


    Few things had ever enchanted her like sailing for adventure in the roaring waves. She looked out over the chilly blue of the Haldrenian Channel with her hair flowing before her. The smell of sea salt was heavenly, and the light was clear from above. If they went only a little further down, you could see her home of Ran Telus. However, she''d grown up more as a ward in the realm of Carn Gable.


    Hadn''t William swum this once? Or half of it?


    "Ah, the sea air is high, and we''re out," said Tanith. "Now, the only thing that could be better is if we were going to raid Calishan shipping. Aris and I did much of that before we got serious."


    "Yes, well, I can''t have worse luck than the last voyage," muttered William, who hated sea travel.


    "Don''t tempt fate, William. Rioletta likes causing pain when people ask for it," said Felix to one side.


    "If fate is tempted, I''ll beat it to a pulp," said Tanith.


    "I''m just glad to be going to Antion," said William, standing up and smiling.


    "Why?" asked Tanith, perplexed. She''d hated the place when she went through it. The bounty hunters trying to kill her was an improvement. And why was he looking so cheerful? It wasn''t a bad look, to be fair.


    "It''s the greatest of the Harlenorian Kingdom''s Tanith," said William. "It has technologies and finery like nothing else. The population is far higher than Haldren or Escor. It produces most food shipped across the Sea of Power and the Haldrenian straights.


    "They say the Capital of Antion is veiled in a golden light," He seemed enthusiastic and happy.


    This was a poor change. Tanith didn''t have the heart in the old days, but now he was backsliding into the insecure, happy person he used to be.


    "Well, aren''t you acting like the old you?" asked Tanith, getting him a headlock. "Knock it off. I like you better than you are now. Not like Anborn."


    "What did he do this time?" asked William. "Did he get another red-haired girlfriend to take care of him?"


    "He ran from a battle," said Tanith.


    "What?!" said William. "He was alone, wasn''t he?"


    "No, he wasn''t," said Tanith. "He''d made friends with a group of adventurers. One of his girlfriends was there too. They got cornered by bandits, and he ran off.


    "He came back later to save them when they were tied up.


    "Later, he allowed himself to be captured and seduced by the bandit leader. While leaving his friends to fight a life or death battle."


    Disgraceful.


    But William didn''t want to say anything; Tanith could tell. Anborn had a long list of stupid and cowardly actions which he had been spared trouble from.


    Yes, William had run away in his first battle after a fashion. But he''d done that to save a fellow warrior and friend from the sea. Also, it only happened once. Anborn always pulled this kind of thing in one way or another.


    "I''ve always wanted to go to Antion and meet King Andoa," said William, breaking it. "To be knighted by him would be a huge honor." Andoa was famous the world over and at one time had been considered comparable to Anoa the Bright. However, William and Tanith both thought of this exaggeration for obvious reasons.


    One did not simply compare to Anoa the Bright. All were forever in his shadow.


    Tanith considered telling him a bit about reality. But he''d read all the same books she had, so he probably knew. Let him enjoy the dream. For her part, Tanith never wanted to go further into Antion than the ports.


    "Babarassians, port side!" called a man.


    Tanith looked up, and sure enough, the Babarassian vessel was before them, with a prow in the shape of a mouse. Even now, they were heading toward them, and the men onboard were brandishing weapons. They wore long beards and concealing garments and had a vicious look.


    "Maybe they''re friendly and simply want to negotiate," said William.


    "Not likely," said Tanith. "Now we get to spill some blood."


    "So it would seem," said Felix.


    It seemed they were in for a splendid time.


    Tanith ran to quickly put on her armor, getting help from Felix in it. It was well-polished, and she thought she''d have to clean it afterward. Drawing her two swords, she smiled as she returned to the deck. William stayed behind her, a shield and sword in hand.


    He was no coward, but in Khasmir, he''d played the role of healer, which was wise. This crew didn''t look battle-hardened. Turning up, Tanith saw the ship nearing them and pulling up. A long silence stretched as she waited for the fun. The gangplank was thrown down, and the Babarassians rushed over the deck toward them.


    Tanith rushed toward them, disarmed a man, cut his throat, slashed out the eyes of another, and ran a third through. The men rushed behind her into battle, weapons drawn as battle was joined. Tanith smiled, feeling the warm blood pour over her body as she ended their lives. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    William was healing their injured as the battle went on. Wounded men were rising again.


    Tossing her swords into the air, Tanith drew knives and hurled them, and each one found a mark. The last man fell in shock, whimpering in horror as Tanith caught the swords. She lunged forward and stabbed them through his palms.


    Grabbing her head, she wrenched it to snap his neck.


    Was he begging for mercy?


    It didn''t matter.


    She''d heard it all before. Filthy dark-skinned invaders needed to have their numbers culled anyway.


    "I can''t say that wasn''t efficient," said William.


    "Sorry," said Tanith. "I''ll leave some for you next time. We lose anyone?"


    "No," said William. "A few injured and healed. We''d better see what is down here."


    "Why did they attack us?" asked Felix.


    "Who knows?" asked Tanith, not caring. "Let''s loot the place."


    William nodded, and they began the search of the ship.


    As they did, they found it contained people, many of them stored in the lower decks. They were herded into cramped quarters filled with filth and straw, and the smell was awful. A few had been set aside in more humane quarters, meaning they had about a foot each. Tanith walked through the stinking place and saw the people trapped.


    They looked to Tanith with obvious fear, which was probably the smart move. William looked around, seeing their dark skin and brownish hair. "Are these Furbearers, Tanith?"


    "Yeah, more or less," said Tanith. "What do you want to be done with them? We could sell them?"


    "No," said William. "Release them at once, and I''ll heal them. I need to know what Furbearers are doing here. They are under the protection of King Gavin and Haldren."


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    "It could be a raid," noted Tanith as she slashed a lock. Nakmar''s swords were awesome.


    "No," said Felix. "Babarassians might decide to attack a lone ship, but a direct attack on Haldren would never be made. Not without a larger campaign, and we''d have heard of that.


    "It may be possible these were sent after us in particular. You and William are valuable targets with a fair share of enemies."


    "Either way," said William. "We''ll get them out on deck. Once there, we will talk to them. Lead them up, and I''ll heal the sick and injured."


    And so it went, a boring and unmemorable event as the slaves were led up onto the deck. Tanith quickly arranged for the bodies to be stripped of their clothes and weapons. That and many other valuables. These were given to the crew.


    Food was given to the slaves, which Tanith thought was a bit far away. But it seemed to get them less afraid and more receptive. Finally, William spoke to them in their tongue, using the power of language. "Does anyone speak for you?"


    A girl came forward, dark-skinned with brown hair that was tangled. Her clothes were blue, and she had a very nice rack. Not to mention a good curve of the hips, and didn''t look like she was done growing. Tanith wondered if William would mind her taking her as a slave.


    Probably, he was a bit nice for his own good. "I am Kata of the Islands of Torment that lie east of Haldren. And the daughter of our leader, Osrif.


    "We were sold to these men by the King."


    "Which King?" asked William.


    "Lord Kern of Haldren, who else?" said Kata, speaking Haldrenian. "He claimed authority over us because his Father killed a lot of our people. But he has never even come down near us except to exact tribute. Things got very bad the last few winters, and we couldn''t pay the tribute.


    "Now he has sold us to the Babarassians to pay off the debt, and I was among them as an example. One day, the Incarnation of the Land will return to set this right, and you''ll be sorry for what you did! To my people and my Mother!"


    "You should have been ready to fight if you didn''t want to get enslaved," scoffed Tanith.


    Bad luck.


    "And what are we supposed to do against an entire ship of armed Babarassians?" asked Kata. "Many of our men are on a trading voyage, and we were caught before we reached our safe locations."


    "You could die well," replied Tanith. "Or at least commit suicide before they captured you to deny them profits."


    "Given that we rescued them, that might not have been a good idea," noted Felix.


    "That''s not the point," said Tanith. "It''s a matter of principle. Of honor and warrior code."


    "Do you know why these men would attack us?" asked William.


    "Some of us heard them talking about a contract," said Kata. "They were alerted to you by someone and directed to intercept you. They were asked to seize him as a bargaining chip."


    "Well, that would be me," noted William. "Felix, why would you say they''d do that?"


    "Well, we made no secret of our departure," said Felix. "Given that Tanith''s actions have put a rift between Wrynncurth and us, it would make sense. I''m sure many enemies of House Gabriel would love to disrupt that.


    "And if the Babarrasians took you prisoner, there would be an element of deniability. King Gavin could come to your rescue and put you in his debt or keep you as a hostage. And selling Tanith to Wrynncurth would be a valuable bargaining chip. But other people could be behind this."


    "Should we really be having this kind of meeting in public?" asked Tanith.


    "What is wrong with having the treachery of my enemies be well-documented?" asked William. "Kata, next question. How much do you know about the Babarassians and their slaving operations?"


    "Well," said Kata. "They have a contact, Omar, who set it up. He and another man in armor like Lamech. They came to us, and we offered them hospitality, and they asked many questions of us.


    "Then Omar went east, toward Themious and Babarassia. Tavish came through and was very nice and polite. They said only that his business arrangements had gone off well. Then the Babarassians arrived, and we let them establish a small port. Then, they set up outposts in each village.


    "But pretty soon, armed men filled the area, and they started taking things over. Our Village Healers were forced out of their homes and enslaved. And then they started taking us. Father tried to rally the men and fight them off, but there were too many. I was seized and sold into slavery as punishment by Tavish."


    "You mean to tell me that you let them in?" asked Tanith, blinking in surprise. "You should have started planning to fight them when Gavin gave the order."


    "We''re a peaceful people!" said Kata.


    "Then you''re insane," said Felix without aggression. "Living in peace is only possible by deterring your enemies. That requires either an ironclad defense or an aggressive striking power. Preferably both."


    Kata stepped back from the bars for a minute, only just seeing him.


    "Tanith, Felix, this is not the time," said William, not liking how they dismissed these people. "Kata, can your people sail?"


    "Yes, but not usually with a ship this large," said Kata. "We use more maneuverable craft."


    "Very well," said William. "Tanith, could you run a crew to Ascorn?"


    "Sure," said Tanith. "Seeing as you and Felix have some experience.


    "Best time to learn."


    And they set to work at once, breaking off from the ship they''d come. It turned out that the Furbearers were quite quick learners, faster than William or Felix. Tanith had to give them the differences, and they quickly adapted. William, meanwhile, opted to navigate a bit.


    Once Kata had a chance to clean up, she was very nice. Her braided hair made her look nice. And Tanith decided to approach her. "So, these Babarassians, by what authority could they take you? Surely you are citizens of Haldren."


    "Technically, we are serfs," said Kata. "Though Father and my family have noble status.


    "We handle all our affairs and do everything for ourselves. Once, our people had huge fortresses. But you all sacked or burned them, and we''ve had to deal with raids. One of you pirates killed my Mother!"


    "That''s sad," said Tanith.


    "Sad?" shouted Kata. "That''s all you have to say."


    "You fought a war, and you lost. It happens to everyone," said Tanith, thinking back to her Mother''s disfigurement. "No shame on you; at least you fought."


    "What about my Mother?" asked Kata.


    "Everybody dies eventually. And most people die horribly," said Tanith with a shrug. "At least she got killed in battle. Better than wasting away from old age or a skin disease.


    "Bad things happen to good people, and life isn''t fair. You can feel sorry for yourself and revel in being a victim. Or you can get back on your feet and ensure you kill all the raiders the next time. Then you can steal their ships, burn their villages, and rape and murder their women.


    "Crying never helped anybody. But ending other people''s lives can help you a lot."


    Kata stared at Tanith. "...Are you the Shark Queen?"


    "What?" said Tanith. "What are you talking about?"


    "My people have shrines to ward off the Shark Queen," said Kata. "I thought... you seem to like what a Queen of Death would look like."


    Tanith laughed. "The Shark Queen is the proxy Goddess of Elranor and focuses on death as an aspect. When you see her, it usually means that someone will die or otherwise disaster will fall on you."


    "So, what''s the difference?" asked Kata.


    "Doom is a bad thing that can or will happen to you and an unrelenting force you fight against," said Tanith. "But you can master it. See William over there? A year ago, he got shipwrecked with nothing but Felix. They were captured by satyrs, tossed in prison, and brutalized.


    "But they escaped and made their way on foot. They made companions, had many adventures, and escaped from them. Doom came upon them, but they passed beyond it and grew stronger. If something bad happens, you should fight like hell against it. If you fail, you should accept the defeat and become stronger.


    "Both are responses worthy of praise, depending on the situation. But you have to fight first. Ward off doom, and you delay the inevitable at the expense of weakening yourself. For my part, I say never submit. Never stop fighting.


    "Let the enemy take your land from you in an ocean of their blood. And let new tides wash away that ocean.


    "If bad things happen to you, don''t think ''why me.'' Think, ''To overcome this is to achieve greatness.'' For a rich man, paying his debts off is a trivial matter. It doesn''t matter that he is paying a lot more money because there are no stakes. The banker can''t kill him, and he has a lot of money. So all he''s doing is treading water.


    "A poor man, who has much smaller debts, risks being sold into slavery. If he succeeds in paying off all his debts and becoming a little prosperous, that is a far greater deed."


    "Because he was facing worse odds," guessed Kata.


    "Exactly," said Tanith. "Your people are in a bad position and aren''t likely to win. So if they win or even fail gloriously, it will be far more impressive. Wouldn''t you consider that an opportunity?"


    Kata looked at Tanith with wide eyes. She seemed about to say something, only to halt. "Well then, who is the God of Death?"


    "Elranor," said William, coming in with his helmet off. "Why else would his Paladin go shod in plate inlaid with skulls? The domain of every deity becomes its antithesis."


    "What do you mean?" asked Kata. "Elranor is a God of Healing. Of restoring and protecting."


    "Yes," said Tanith. "And how do you treat a wound that has festered and can''t be healed by normal magic?"


    "...You cut the rot out," said Kata.


    "Exactly," said William.


    Kata looked down with a sigh. "What am I supposed to do? Even if I get home, what then?"


    "For a start, you can tell us a bit about these Babarassians," said William. "I''d know they''d been setting up some colonies, but I didn''t think they''d go this far." There he went again with the lady''s man chivalrous act he''d been practicing with Kiyora.


    Kata halted. "We were told King Gavin wanted a counterweight to House Gabriel. Colonists will soon be brought in to replace us.


    "Our Lord sold our domain to them. The Islands of Torment and the domain of the Furbearers."


    "He sold part of Harlenor to a foreign power!" said Tanith, hardly believing his ears. "You mean he...


    "Why that-"


    "Calm yourself, Tanith," said William. "Kata, do you know how to use a spear?"


    "Well, we use them for fishing," said Kata. "And we hunt with slings, but we''ve no real experience at war. King Gavin forbade us from practicing, and we never had the strength to resist him."


    "Well, King Gavin is now more or less making war on you by proxy," said William. "So you are no longer obligated to listen to anything he says."


    "Right, you''re right," said Kata with a sigh.


    "Well, Tanith will instruct you as best I can on the journey," said William. "If all of your people learn how to do this in an organized military fashion, I expect it should help a great deal."


    This looked like the start of a beautiful friendship. Also, Kata was easy on the eyes.


    The only thing that could ruin it was that Anborn might be in Ascorn.


    But the sun was just as high and the wind as brisk when they returned above decks. And now Tanith had another potentially beautiful slave girl once she was cleaned up.


    Well, not really, but the fantasy was fun.

 Chapter 131 - Three: Arrival

    Drilling Kata and her men proved harder than expected, so Tanith had to put away fantasies. William was very glad of this because those she had mentioned were disturbing. He did not want to dwell on her desire for a Furbearer Princess. She had practical things to worry about.


    Kata''s people numbered almost four hundred and that made things difficult. It should have been impossible to heal them all.


    Any normal priest would be dead on their feet, healing a few of these people''s worst cases. William had done it without any difficulty and was now searching high and low, trying to find them clean garments.


    Eventually he''d taken to handing out the cloaks of the Babarassians. It was a poor solution, but it worked until they could get real clothes. Their old garments were cast into the fire for warmth in the chill air.


    The Furbearer''s concept of war involved slings and guerilla tactics or personal combat. Tanith and William worked on giving them a basic idea of how to do a spear wall. But there were better places for learning combat than a ship.


    "I don''t understand why you haven''t trained in spear walls," said William.


    "Father says that the best defense is like water," said Kata. "Yielding and reforming while your enemy exhausts themselves."


    "And why didn''t that work?" asked William.


    "Our settlements have grown," said Kata. "Trade has made us more numerous. Some can escape, but not all. There are places we must defend."


    "Right," said William. "Moving like water is good when you have a small and mobile force. You can outmaneuver an enemy. But as you grow in size, you have to be able to hold ground. Otherwise, your enemies can destroy important things you can''t move."


    "Perhaps I''ve always preferred the principle of all-consuming flame," said Tanith. "As outlined by Anoa."


    "What''s that?" asked Kata.


    "Take what you can burn the rest," said Tanith. "If you don''t have a use for something, destroy it so your enemies can''t use it."


    "But won''t that make everyone worse off in the long run," said Kata.


    "If everyone is out to get you, making everyone worse off is a victory," said William. "It demonstrates that you are willing to accept injury to disrupt the control of your enemies. When Anoa the Bright lived, the other races had conspired to shut humanity out.


    "Anoa adopted the principle of the all-consuming flame. Deadwood was burned away, and the strongest thrived. It was unpleasant, and I wouldn''t use the strategy myself, but it worked."


    "The Withering Lord and Neral Dinis had a similar policy," noted Kata. "Only with wraiths and zombies. The Incarnation of the Land taught us that such thinking would only hurt everyone."


    "Yes, but not doing it hurts you right now and encourages others to do the same," said William.


    "You would never understand," said Kata, looking away to sea with a faraway gaze.


    Eventually, they arrived.


    The port of Ascorn could be smelled, even far out to sea. The docks had ships upon ships within them, bustling with all kinds of people. Towers stood overlooking the bay, but no one seemed to be in them. And there seemed to be many turbaned men with beards. They wore concealing garments while walking the place.


    As they halted, Tanith seemed in a good mood. But for his part, William found his first sight of Antion disappointing. Most kept hands near their swords or knives, and guards were at every pier.


    But no city guard or men wearing the colors of Lord Rius. It troubled him. In Ran Telus and Arsheen, there was a contingent of guards at the docks at all times. Several porters were moving this way and that, hurrying to be off the streets. Shops and establishments by the waterfront had barred windows.


    The water by the pier was filthy, an oozing brown, and stank to heaven. Several bodies lay floating in the jetsam, and some were bloated from being there a long time.


    "Well, here we are, Will, the port of Ascorn," said Tanith. "Principal actor in the slave trade and where the Antion heartlands sell their grain.


    "A lot less clean than last time. Usually, they fish the bodies out right away. Rius doesn''t like them upsetting people; it kills trade. Something must be wrong."


    William remained composed. Tanith knew a thing or two about how the economics of this place operated. "They sell to Artarq too, Kata. They''ve even shipped as far as Ruscow in times of peace.


    "Estal is self-sufficient, of course. But often, vessels come down here bearing booty from the wars. Gold, jewels, tapestries, and... slaves as well."


    "How can you be so calm?" asked Kata. "There are corpses in the water!"


    William turned to her and set a hand gently to her shoulder. "Kata, never display weakness to a stranger. And never display your ignorance if you can avoid it. Keep your eyes and ears open, and think about what you see.


    "For instance;


    "Do you see any grain boxes waiting for a sale?" He motioned to an area where goods awaited purchase. There were vendors, but only a few.


    "No," said Kata. "They must not be harvesting right now."


    "Or?" asked William.


    "Someone might have stolen or sent it somewhere else," said Kata.


    "Why?" asked William.


    Kata opened her mouth to say, ''I don''t know,'' then caught herself. "They have a plan to use it for something else. Or it might have been a bad harvest. Or the grain might just not be stored around this place anymore."


    "Good," said William. "You didn''t display your ignorance. Instead, you stabbed at the truth and, in so doing, came to an alternative possibility. Now I respond; How?"


    "The consequences of the grain not being there," said Kata. "People could starve, and some people will not be making a sale. Most people are farmers. That means if the grain isn''t here, everyone who sells and buys it has a problem.


    "And since everyone who sells and buys the grain has a problem, everyone has a problem. What kind of monster would cut off the grain supply?"


    "The kind that did not live here," said William.


    "A demon could have done it," said a Furbearer nearby. He had a shaved head and was taller than Kata.


    "A demon would do something much more grandiose," said William. "Demons are theatrical. This sort of stunt would be boring to them.


    "Try again."


    "There could have been a breakdown in supply," said Kata.


    "And," said William, "how might your enslavement play into this?"


    "I guess they might need someone to work the fields," said Kata. "But where did all the soldiers come from?"


    "I expect they came back from the battlefield," said Tanith. "When I came through here, many people were joining up."


    "So it''s a revolt," said the Furbearer from before. Kata looked at him with recognition and wondered at the connection. "These must be out-of-work men looking to get even."


    William was surprised at how much they had guessed. "Or all our guesses might be wrong. Whatever the case, remember that we will not start any fights until we know what is happening. Keep the ship well-guarded, and don''t let anyone on."


    "Then what is our mission?" asked Kata.


    "We don''t have one at present," said William. "I was seeking passage to Gel Carn. Now I have a guide to meet."


    William looked to Tanith. Her Father was an abolitionist. He had a long correspondence with Father. An irony not lost on William, who was not an abolitionist. Father didn''t take impractical positions.


    "My Father did trade with this port, sometimes," mused Kata. "But he said it was a wretched hive."


    "That is an unjust opinion," said William, a bit offended. "When Father and his party journeyed to Themious, it was by the advice of Rius, and trade was so established. Though it is indirect, he fought at the battle of Desora, a brief engagement but a decisive one."


    "I remember that a group of Amazons once landed among us," said Kata. "Our merchants bought their pottery and sold it to Harlenorians. It was some of the best we''d ever seen. We still have some back home or have."


    "In any case," said William. "Father respects Lord Rius."


    "Duke Vanion respects everyone," said Tanith.


    "My sources say smugglers have been setting up shop out here," said Felix. "Rius disregards their operations in exchange for a cut given to the royal treasury. Then he deducts it from his taxes."


    "That is the business of the royal court," said William. "I doubt very much it is unregulated."


    "I don''t care about regulations," said Kata. "I care about what they are doing to my people. Why are you praising them?"


    "I think you misunderstand the nature of a feudal system," said William. "Individual Lords are more or less the King of their domains. The Kings of Harlenor are meant to involve themselves only in cases of treason.


    "Although I admit, Antion has somewhat departed from King Anoa''s vision." William paused. "What do you sell?"


    "Yes," said Kata. "Our textiles are some of the best, thanks to blessings laid on us by the Goddess Isriath. Well, that was before Rioletta seized her domain."


    "That''s probably why King Gavin decided to sell you out," noted Felix. "Ascorn also imports wine from Khasmir and Seathorius. There are various magical baubles created in Magicora, and pottery from Artarq."


    "And slaves. Lots of slaves," said Tanith.


    "I already know that, Tanith," said William. "I have studied under all the same lessons as you."


    "And where do the slaves go?" asked Kata.


    "Well, most slaves are imported here and shipped down to work the fields in Antion," said Felix. "Traditionally, they are prisoners of war. The ones that are shipped in from the Sea of Power get sold to the island chains, then the vampires of House De Chevlon."


    "Not anymore; they don''t," noted William. "Arraxia has abolished the practice. She says that as all the creatures of Seathorius are her property, they have no right to own one another."


    "Yeah, I heard about that," noted Tanith. "It''s going to be bad for the plantations. House Marn got them rapid replacements of slaves through Savior''s Run. Who''s in charge of the slave trade for House De Chevlon anyway? I''ve forgotten their name."


    "Baroness Saphra De Chevlon," said Felix. "Raynald''s brothers were in line for the position but declined it. One entered the church, another became a military man, and the last became a merchant.


    "And before she came of age, the duty was held by Neral Dinis."


    "Neral Dinis?" asked Kata. "My grandmother told me that he served the Withering Lord and ruled over us during the height of our power. Back when necromancers still reigned."


    "Oh yes," said Tanith. "He depopulated entire villages during the fighting. But Erik the Voyager wiped out most of his clan. And before that, he battled Anoa the Bright."


    "Why do you speak so casually of these things? Isn''t he a monster?" asked Kata.


    "A lot of people are monsters," noted Tanith. "I don''t have time to kill them all. And isn''t he your benefactor anyway?"


    "Serving Neral Dinis was... a mistake," said Kata. "Maybe these brothers of your friend Raynald could help, though? I mean, they aren''t part of the worship of undeath."


    "Raynald has long had a vendetta against his brothers," said William. "They hate one another. However, that hatred might have cooled. If I encounter them, I can bridge the gap.


    "Felix, you''ve been here before, haven''t you?"


    "Yes," said Felix. "I was sold here to Duke Vanion. It''s not a pleasant memory."


    "You mean you''re a slave," asked Kata.


    "A trusted subordinate. Felix is paid well for his services," said William quickly. "At least some good came of it in the end. And it could have been worse. Tanith, where is the Steel Arm."


    "Up there, over that way," said Tanith. "I''d avoid the other inns. Some of them employ Zigildrazians, and they bewitch the mind. Yeah, the courtesans are good, but they''re a trap.


    "Never go in for Zigildrazians. Never go in for prostitutes. If you''re in the market for beauty, seize it from an enemy village. No risk of being trapped by dark magic,


    "The Steel Arm is a nice place that doesn''t go in for that sort of thing. Or at least it did when I was last here. That was on my way back from Gel Carn. They have a lot of flowers in that place; Jehair grew them."


    "Have you met Jehair?" asked William.


    "Once or twice, in passing. I was connected to her by Rusara," said Tanith. "We traveled together a bit. She''s nice to look at, but I''d bind her before trying to have my way with her."


    "Is that all you think about?" asked William.


    "It''s the first thing I think about," said Tanith. "Part of appreciating beauty is seeing the use in it. We traveled together a bit, and she''s nearly as bloodthirsty as I am. I don''t think she thinks much of people."


    "I''ll bear it in mind," said William, not sure whether to believe Tanith. He decided to withhold judgment. Rusara had vouched for her, after all. "Thank you for taking us this far, Tanith."


    "No trouble at all; I''m just glad to get out," said Tanith. "That fight we had on the way here was fun.


    "Kata, the ship is yours."


    "What?" said Kata in surprise. "Do you know how valuable this is?"


    "Money isn''t everything, and I''ve got to sign back up with my Captain," said Tanith. "Go on home and take the weapons."


    "I..." Kata blushed. "Thank you."


    "Just keep drilling and learn to use them. I doubt anyone will free you again," said Tanith. "Still, if you stick around here, you might be able to get some help."


    "Good luck," said William.


    "You as well," said Kata.


    William and Felix stepped onto the dock. As they did, he remembered events. "That is my second journey by sea, and I have been ambushed twice. I hope this will not become a pattern."


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "Oh, come on, violence and adventure are always a good thing," called Tanith after him.


    William smiled.


    "It looks like someone is taking an interest in the ship we were on," said Tanith.


    William turned and saw it pulling in. A very large troop of well-armed Babarassians was going forward. They were clad in silvery armor, with pointed helmets, steel masks, and scimitars. The crew drew swords, and soon a fight began as both sides battled it out.


    Several Harlenorians groups came out with spears and axes. Coming at the armored Babarassians from behind, they did not catch them off guard. But even as they did, more unarmored Babarassians and a full-on brawl were happening. Other men came out to watch.


    "Someone knew our ship," said William. "Tanith, I''ve got to get off now. Dress the Furbearers in the garb of our fallen enemies. They have the same skin hue, so it might fool them. And stay off the top deck. If they gather outside the dock, make them pay in blood."


    "Jehair is your friend, right?" asked Kata.


    "No," said William. "Not yet.


    "Good luck."


    Soon enough, they were going through the docks, with Felix leading. It was cramped and bustling, and William saw many beggars clad in rags. Halting, he halted and pressed a coin into the hand of one. Then, seeing another lame, he healed him and gave him a coin.


    This attracted some attention, and there were murmurs. So William used the opportunity to heal people. This was a fine start, so he''d soon worked his way to where the battle was winding down. William healed the Harlenorians but left the Babarassian attackers where they were.


    One of them went at him with a knife and got his head chopped of by Felix.


    But William ignored them and continued. Then, noting Babarassians motioning to him, William met their gaze. They held him, and their eyes narrowed. Silence reigned, and after a moment, they turned away. Then they turned on.


    "...You don''t suppose Jehair is as bad as Tanith says, do you?" asked William.


    "She seemed to have a very high opinion of her," noted Felix.


    William shrugged. "Tanith has a warped perspective on things, even if she is getting better. I''m not sure her approval of a thing is entirely good."


    "She approves of you and me," noted Felix.


    "I think we are lost sheep in need of correction to her," laughed William. "Felix, why are there so many Babarassians here? And so well-armed?"


    Felix shook his head. "There were a few here last time, but never so many. It is a long way to Themious and their continent."


    "What would they buy here?" mused William.


    "Slaves of a different sort," said Felix. "Not plantations but... well, other purposes. Galley slaves for warships and girls."


    "Like what Tanith did," surmised William, remembering the Priestess Atria.


    "Far worse," said Felix.


    "Who are the main people in the business?" asked William.


    "Well, the slave trade has never been profitable," said Felix. "Most merchants give money to the trade as a pledge of loyalty to one Planter Lord or another. You rarely make the money back.


    "But the Lords in the heartlands support it so they can continue to buy slaves. Virtually everyone has bought into it."


    "So why keep it if it''s not profitable?" asked William. He''d learned much of this before but intended to make his judgment.


    "Because they would need to exert themselves to keep their positions," said Felix. "Maintaining the slave trade is a safe way to throw commoners off their land and be as brutal as you like. A commoner can raise concerns, complain, or stage a revolution. Soldiers might feel bad about brutalizing them.


    "A slave can be worked to death, tortured or mutilated or whatever you want. No one will care."


    "Why do you need people at all, then? Why not kill everyone, resurrect them as undead, and have them work plantations?" asked William. "They could do all the work, wouldn''t rebel, and would eat less."


    "I gather that was Neral Dinis'' viewpoint," said Felix.


    William laughed, though he really shouldn''t have.


    Then he paused to consider things and looked down the street. He saw several merchants trying to get a coin from a moneylender. From the looks of things, the merchant was becoming increasingly frustrated. The moneylender looked smug as if in triumph. Then, a thin, nice-looking back with a mustache moved forward to intercede. He wore a fine, expensive tunic meant to look humble and down to earth. William knew enough about such tunics to know that it was not.


    After a moment, the merchant moved away, satisfied. The moneylender did not seem upset, and Lilas spoke to him and smiled. Then he moved away, looking very reasonable.


    "Who is that?" asked William.


    "A large merchant," said Felix. "Called Lilas; he owns several different shipping companies. He has indirect control over many others. It''d only be possible to say how many with seeing his finance book.


    "He likes to play the reasonable mediator. He probably owns the moneylender. He used to be the chief financier for King Gavin of Haldren. He got his start making the King more money for the treasury. This was back when Argath Marn was being sold Artarq to fill Antion.


    "Haldren got the better end of the deal.


    "But the man is scum."


    "What makes you say that?" asked William.


    "He owns brothels," said Felix. "He makes a profit on the brutalization and exploitation of defenseless women. No one can be in that business and not be a villain.


    "Perhaps one can partake and keep their soul.


    "But for the one who owns the building? Nothing."


    "Duly noted," said William, who had never used them. Oddly, neither had Tanith. All her conquests had been taken in war, and the only one she ever talked about was Atria. "Are the Babarassians involved?"


    "In many things," said Felix. "They usually play the role of middleman merchants.


    "I remember Father had one or two clashes with them during his adventures," said William. "But I think they''d become a shadow of their former selves. Mother tells me their land is wasted and barren."


    "Perhaps the shadow is taking on a new form," noted Felix. "It has been over a decade and a half since he departed.


    "Given the number of ships, There are far too many of them around here. Merchant vessels prefer cargo to guards."


    William realized they''d passed another large group with scimitars and mail. They eyed him hatefully. Where were the guards? "Whatever it is, I doubt it has anything to do with us. We may inquire with Lord Rius later if it becomes necessary. Come."


    The Steel Arm, as it turned out, was a large, two-story establishment. They had large windows with glass and a well-lit interior. A guard was at the door, the walls were painted white, and the windows were barred. William noted, however, that the cobblestones nearest the inn had slight spikes. "Why have those spikes?"


    "To prevent beggars from sleeping or sitting there," said Felix. "Though there are a lot more since I was here last." William saw that these were near virtually every building. And there were a lot of beggars."


    Many of them were sick.


    Very nice. William healed the ones nearest to him and left the rest for later.


    "Ah," said William, finding the idea disturbing. This was not a fine introduction to the greatest Harlenorian nations. But perhaps that would change in time. "So this is the Steel Arm Inn? It looks nice enough."


    "It looks disreputable," said Felix.


    "I said nice enough, not nice," said William. "Never mind, we''ll enter and look for any sign of Jehair and Amenos."


    Felix''s assessment soon proved to be the better one.


    There were dancing girls plying their trade upon a table. They had skin and an unnatural complexion of red, blue, and green. With blue skin and twin tendrils coming from her head, one of them eyed him as she moved, with a brand upon her stomach. She looked about his age, though she was of some race he did not know and was already well-developed.


    Hadn''t Father mentioned such a species in his journeys?


    William quickly averted his gaze with a blush. He wasn''t sure which one was at greater risk of ensnaring him. Green or blue. There appeared to be many flowers growing around from jars of dirt. They grew around the tables and up walls. They had pink petals and were quite majestic and emerged from gaps in the floor.


    Over to one side, William saw a man smoking a pipe on a table without any flowers. His skin was weathered and his hair dark, but he was not Calishan. He was of the old Haldrenian race that dwelled in the north. William''s people, descended from the folk of Erik the Voyager, were a mix of many races. As were those of Lord Kern, and the Furbearers were of Calishan stock.


    Yet the northern race had not mixed with other races. He had a grim look and looked at William keenly. At his side was a sword, so he was nobility, and he wore a coarse kind of leather made from cattle in the lands of House Acas. That was in the far north of Haldren, where livestock grazed.


    It was very good leather if worn, and he had a bow near him. His features were noble, though he hid it well.


    An aristocrat was trying to blend. William didn''t see why he bothered since aristocrats were common. Could he be someone of vast importance? Or was he an enemy of Lord Rius? He couldn''t simply be bad at hiding; he wasn''t. Someone who knew nothing of Haldren wouldn''t have given him a second glance.


    He likely just wore these clothes normally.


    "One moment, Felix," said William.


    And he moved over to sit across from him, trying not to choke at the smoke.


    "Yes?" asked the man.


    "Might I inquire as to King Gavin''s interest here?" asked William.


    The man smiled wryly. "King Gavin has many interests. You''re sharp."


    "I have to be," said William, not feeling. "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel and Paladin of Elranor. Might I know your name?"


    "My name is Aras," said the man. "I should warn you, you have been careless with your name. If you are not careful, news of your presence will be everywhere. Certain unsavory powers might take an interest."


    "Let them come," said William. "I am a Paladin, and I will heal every sick and injured person I find. That alone will mark me, so I will not presume to pretend to be other than what I am. Aras is the Prince of Haldren''s name."


    "It is," said the man. "There is more than one man with that name.


    "Still, I''m sure the men wearing cloaks and daggers will be pleased with the distraction. As will those you heal.


    "But if I were you, I would avoid the main roads and the cities. Your guide, Jehair, can be trusted if you are in her charge. I am quite familiar with her as a friend and adversary; she will never betray the one she works for.


    "If you are in the wilderness, you will be perfectly safe from reprisal. Enter the cities, and you will find yourself in danger. And Jehair will be out of her element. This one, of course, is the exception.


    "Lord Rius has taken too lax a hand. Things are either out of hand or have been getting out of hand for a long time. I am beginning to fear it is the latter. It might be best to depart this place as soon as possible."


    "Thank you," said William. "Gods protect you."


    "And you as well," said the man.


    William stood up, accidentally inhaled some smoke, and choked on it, coughing. Aras laughed, and William moved sourly. As he did, he noticed the dancer again, seeming to try and get his attention. It was something he would not be giving. He looked to Felix.


    "I thought Tanith said this place didn''t employ Zigildrazian people," said William.


    "It may have changed," noted Felix. "Tanith has not been here for some time. Many Zigildrazian immigrants moved into Antion."


    William nodded and looked through the place until he saw Amenos. He was sitting in a corner, half-shrouded in shadow. Across from him was a beautiful elven woman, unlike Arraxia or Kiyora. It was a natural appearance, with earthy-brown, braided hair and a wooden staff. Her curvaceous form was clad in travel-worn furs, yet she seemed unmarred.


    Jehair matched the picture, though it did not do her justice. The flowers seemed to move around her.


    "How long must we dally in this accursed place?" asked Jehair, voice a harsh Eastern accent. "The roads grow ever more dangerous by the moment, and yet we idle here in this terrible city!


    "Would that the feral beasts we hunt should tear this festering place asunder! Then we might have at least one less cancer on nature!" Her tone had a frustrated, furious note, and she seemed like the sort of person to be so often.


    William moved forward, noting Amenos looking at him. "Jehair, you should not speak so openly. We are in public. Such statements will not win us, friends."


    "Friends or not, had Rusara not requested it directly, I should not be here," said Jehair. "Other matters demand our attention, Amenos, beyond escorting nobility."


    "It would be a grievous blow to Rusara if William were to be killed," said Amenos. "Our alliance with House Gabriel is paramount to the Dust Elven elders. And we both know that you''ve already finished most of your tasks."


    "And so I must be called away again," said Jehair.


    "Excuse me-" began William.


    "Yes, what is it?" asked Jehair. "Are you a mercenary in search of work? If so, there will be plenty of opportunities to perform atrocities on your fellow men at the docks. I am told they are hiring across the channel."


    "My name is William Gabriel, and I do not commit atrocities," said William. He was annoyed at not being recognized immediately. Surely, the skull armor and blonde hair ought to have given him away. He removed the helm.


    "I wonder how many trees had to die to forge that suit of armor you wear," mused Jehair. "I gather it would be at least one."


    Was she referring to the destruction of the tree Gail Arengeth had grown? Why would that be related? "I wonder how many animals had to die for the leather you''re wearing. And the wood in the staff in your hand must have been cut from somewhere or torn from living wood. The cloth you''ve tied your hair with is made from some sort of fabric, which would need hurting a plant."


    "Yes, very perceptive, oh skull-faced seeker of transport," said Jehair. "Life and death are cyclical. Perhaps in your infinite wisdom, you shall soon perceive that water is wet."


    "Isn''t being soaked with water what makes a thing wet?" asked William. He heard a laugh and looked to see a pink-haired woman sitting in a bar, sitting with Aras now. They had been speaking. She had a dagger at her side and stood out for some reason. No one noted that she was clad in a brown tunic that bared her legs.


    Turning back to Jehair, William decided to be more subtle. He was being observed.


    "Only one of higher education would think such a technicality important," scoffed Jehair. "But enough of this, Amenos; I believe you had some plan or agenda you sought from all this, just like everyone else."


    "Yes," said Amenos. "I am here on behalf of Rusara to arrange transportation for new colonists. There are a great many more of them these days. And much of our time is spent relocating them to Artarq."


    "What is so important?" asked William, taking a seat. Looking at where the girl was, I thought she was gone, and there was no sign she had ever been there.


    "The so-called nobility have become wealthy by murder and thievery. Yourself included," said Jehair in clear disgust. "Once they stole enough, and many of the men shipped off to die in wars of their making, many smaller farms fell behind.


    "As a result, these nobles bought up huge swaths of land from those they dispossessed. They are now shipping vast numbers of slaves to the ground. And all the while, the guilds from Antion are coming in here. They forced all the artisans and professionals into the fold."


    "It hasn''t spread to Brisgald, has it?" asked William, looking to Amenos. He motioned to Felix to keep watch.


    "No," conceded Jehair. "Brisgald is the exception; your kinsmen are quite creative. Instead, they offer free passage to foreign lands in exchange for service. All while protecting the farms of their serfs."


    "That is a mutually beneficial arrangement. And nobody has used serfs since Anoa the Bright outside Escor," said William.


    "Oh, of course not," said Jehair. "For surely, the Harlenorian Kingdoms are the whole world. There are no lands beyond that which you survey, and all else is fantasy." S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Tell me, do you have some personal grudge against me?" William asked in bemusement. Or is it simply in your nature to be combative and irritable?"


    "Perhaps the same question might be asked of your entire race," said Jehair. Her voice was sarcastic and singsong. "Oh, burner of civilizations."


    "A lack of self-awareness, combined with seeing your flaws in the face of your enemy," mused William. "I am pleased to see High Elven culture remains intact today." The combat amused onlookers.


    "Intact, but not unchanged," replied Jehair simply, smiling. "The opposite seems to be the flaw of humans. You live and die in a fraction of our years, and yet you remain the very image of Harlenor of old. In several pieces, granted."


    "Several. Yet all are more in touch with the world than Qor''Danas," said William, beginning to enjoy himself. "Perhaps you like to play the underdog?"


    "Underdog, indeed," scoffed Jehair. "The elves have built a great tree whose roots lie on innumerable worlds.


    "That which provides sustenance even to the wild beasts who gnaw at them."


    "How fortunate that such heroic beasts do as much," noted William. He was beginning to enjoy himself for once. "Lest all the land be sapped of life. Indeed, I should say the surroundings of this tree most resemble a graveyard."


    "I should compare it instead to a desert¡ªone set aflame," Jehair replied with a laugh.


    "A desert of our own making is preferable to a paradise for you," said William.


    "Would that we could return to happier days," said Jehair. "For a land restored seems to you only an opportunity to create fresh new means of rot."


    "I bow to the elves'' superior knowledge in all matters about decay," said William. General laughter resounded through the men.


    "If you keep going at this, we''re going to be here all day," said Felix quickly. "We do have a mission, William."


    William nodded, as did Jehair. She nodded. "Yes, I take your point. And who are you?"


    "This is Felix, a friend and servant," said William as he sat down. "Amenos, do you trust Aras over there?"


    "So long as we are professional in our dealings and not enemies of Haldren, yes," said Amenos.


    "One cannot befriend and servant," said Jehair, ignoring the statement. "We learned that to our sorrow."


    "Then, a friend, if you must have one and not the other," said William, wanting to be done with this. There was a flicker by the door, but no one noticed it. "Are you ready to depart?"


    "I may leave whenever you are ready," said Jehair. "These cities are detestable places, and I want no further place in them than I must have. It would have been better had they never been built at all."


    "I see," said William, thinking they had to stay longer. "Are there many people in need of healing here?"


    "If you seek membership in the Healer''s Guild, yes," said Jehair.


    "I do not; I seek to heal people," said William.


    "Then no," said Jehair with a shrug. "The Healer''s Guild has come to this city and is here to stay. Any traveler who tries to heal without a license tends to disappear."


    "Where do the sick and injured congregate?" asked William.


    "There are places where they may go to be healed for free," said Jehair, looking around. "But in return, they owe a service to the guild. One service usually becomes two, then three, and then a career, and it rarely ends well."


    "Take me to them," said William.


    "You''re not serious?" said Felix.


    "I work miracles, Felix," said William. "I have no intention of letting anyone put a price on them. I intend to heal every sick and injured person in this city and put them out of business. Making a profit off miracles is disgusting."


    "That would be unwise," said Jehair.


    "You have a better idea?" asked William.


    "Go and heal everyone, and you''ll deny them a profit, temporarily," said Jehair. "But you''ll also out yourself as an enemy and lose the element of surprise."


    "William is right," blurted Felix. "This is not something that can be forestalled.


    "We''re at a major port with trade lanes heading all over. They could set up operations elsewhere if the Healer''s Guild is here. They may have already; if so, this is a significant place for them."


    "You show some wisdom, at least, child," said Jehair after a moment. "Rot has to be cut out before it can be spread. Trying to heal it is useless, but I think you will find it useless."


    William looked back to Aras and saw the girl was gone.


    "Is something wrong?" asked Amenos.


    "I thought I just saw a girl with pink hair," said William. "She was watching us and laughed at something we said."


    "You need not worry," said Jehair. "This table is meant for silence. It ought to have covered you as well. What of Lord Rius being in their pay?"


    "If he is not, then he is a fool not to charge for letting them destroy his city," noted Jehair. "Or do you think all the wonderful operations Tavish has set up here were done without his knowledge? The endless parades of slaves led off to be worked to death or other, worse fates: the illegal goods and the bribery.


    "He has done exceedingly well out of it."


    "There are other possible explanations," said Amenos.


    "Well then, I''ll meet with him," said William.


    "Do you intend to accuse him to his face?" said Jehair. Her tone said it would be very unwise.


    "No," said William. "Why would I? We should order some drinks. I think we need to know a good deal more about things."


    "We''ll be here a while, then," said Jehair. "Men have entered; you won''t want to be noticed by."


    She motioned to the door, and William followed her gaze.

 Chapter 132 - Four: Beginnings in a Tavern

    It was not the girl, and William wondered if he''d ever seen her.


    In the door, William saw a slim, almost effeminate boy with long blue hair. It fell around his shoulders, and he wore dark robes. Bangs fell before his face; he wore leather and a long knife. With him was a boy about his age in black armor, wearing a massive sword on his back. The two sat before one of the dancing girls, the green-skinned one. Meanwhile, the blue-haired man fingered a knife.


    Jehair motioned with a hand, and the flowers near their seats shifted slightly. She brushed her hair back as the two moved on to a seat in the corner.


    "These flowers absorb sound and limit how far it can spread," said Jehair. "So this place is a good place to meet for those who do not want to be heard.


    "Those two men are Tavish Kern and a longtime partner whose name escapes me. They have been setting up new slave-trading lanes."


    "You projected your conversation with Amenos onto me," William realized. "You wanted to see how I''d react."


    "It is best to take the measure of the power quickly," said Jehair. "Now hush, child, we may learn something to our advantage."


    Had he seen her? And why, if he had, had the others missed her?


    William took offense at being called child, but he was young, so he let it pass. Instead, he listened to them.


    "Look, Lamech; there will be a disruption here soon if you ask me. Tides are coming in; time to get inland," The blue-haired man said, admiring the dancer. His voice was easy and casual, while his opposite friend looked William''s way. "You see Gabriel over there; he''s not the kind of person to walk through unnoticed. I think he will start a fire, and it won''t turn out in our favor if we''re here."


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Lamech, or so William presumed. He had a thick baritone with a slight echo to his voice.


    "You''ve seen some of the pieces on that chessboard Arkan is playing long distance," said Tavish. "Sooner or later, they''ll make a move, and this is the first place they''ll move on. Time you and I cash out. No need to leave any trails."


    "Are you sure they will be gone?" asked Lamech. "Dunmoore gets ruthless."


    "Dunmoore is a Paladin," said Tavish. "They don''t care about anything so long as it doesn''t mess up the shine on their armor. Dunmoore will come and go, sweep up, and we sweep back in."


    "We''ve already made quite a bit here," said Lamech. "If we roll things up inland, we can be in an excellent position."


    "What do you have in mind?" asked Tavish.


    "If supply dries up here, there will be more demand from the Sea of Power and Blackfear," said Lamech. "If we get a supply of our own, we can position ourselves as a reasonable alternative."


    "I guess you have some ideas already," said Tavish.


    "Yes," said Lamech as their food arrived. "But not here. Let''s eat, Tavish. I am hungry."


    "I have your ale," said the blue-skinned dancer from before. She held a large plate with three cups and her movements drew the eyes. "Hey there, what can I get for you?"


    "Thank you," said William, looking at her. "I''ll have what they are."


    The barmaid brought the drinks, and William turned to Amenos. "So, this Healer''s Guild, when did it originate?"


    "It was a creation in Antion at first," said Amenos. "Originally, it was developed as a group of freelance healers. They did good work for a price and usually operated among people who didn''t want to be among the gods.


    "They were not, so far as we know, bad people."


    "Who is their patron now? I can''t imagine Elranor continues any support," said Felix.


    "Coinfurth, for the most part. Though some also pay homage to Zigildrazia or other demonic archons," said Jehair. "Many priests have been trained in Sorn under the view of House Suvvest. They are sent to seek employment in the Healer''s Guild. A few worship more... distant deities like the Fish King or the Shark Queen¡ªones with little concern for morality.


    "But many of them come from foreign parts, from off-world. The leader went into business with Sen Kaba."


    "I''ve heard of him," said William. "He is a merchant Lord with whom Father has a personal enmity. Our business interests and morality cross often."


    "Yes, and he is the most feared non-noble in Antion, perhaps more so," said Jehair. "They changed their business strategies after the Healer''s Guild became his partner.


    "They began aggressively killing anyone who tried to heal anyone besides themselves. Hired thugs would murder priests as they came down. If they came down under guard, they''d be murdered later when the priests weren''t around. People who went to the Temple to be healed would usually have the injury inflicted on them again.


    "Pretty soon, the High Priest of Elranor, Cirithil, called off all healers and sent them to other areas, places where the Healer''s Guild wasn''t operating.


    "But that made everything worse. Without any competition, they forced everyone not associated with the Temple. Then they moved out of Antion and started taking over the town, and people who stand up to them get crushed."


    "Has the Paladin Order done nothing about this?" asked William, surprised.


    "Truthfully, the Paladin Order has been sending most of its members to the Islands of Power. That or Gel Carn," said Amenos. "Although they are based in Antion, they have been less involved in Antion''s affairs. There has been a war, and they''ve been mobilizing to fight Baltoth for some time.


    "Though, happily, they are becoming more involved with the truce."


    "I suspect they believe their presence would corrupt them," said Jehair. "They fight Antion''s wars but refuse to involve themselves in internal matters. And the scope of what qualifies as internal can be wide indeed."


    "That is not entirely true," said Amenos. "Lord Dunmoore has several times purged the more violent and evil gangs. When they become a problem, his Paladins prevent things from becoming too violent."


    "I remember hearing about this now," said William. "At the time, I was in the Khasmir campaign. But Father told me in a letter about a group that did this. The Fists of Baltoth gang protected them. I cut their profits by healing for free and accidentally bankrupting them."


    "I think that was why Rusara chose that method of training you in the first place," said Felix.


    "Everyone won, so I see no reason to object, Felix. Still, why wouldn''t the Paladins do as I did?" asked William. "All paladins have healing abilities. If they healed anyone who needed it, they''d undercut the whole business in a few afternoons."


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Well, you have a rare gift for it," said Amenos.


    "I suspect that they have other things to concern themselves with. Dunmoore needs to gain more appreciation for concepts such as economic warfare. He prefers to limit his operations to the physical and spiritual."


    "...Is not healing the sick and injured the domain of the spiritual?" asked William.


    "Traditionally," said Amenos. "Paladins are a military order, while the church deals with healing the sick and injured."


    "But they aren''t," said William.


    "That seems to be the crux of the issue, William," said Felix. "What worries me is that Rusara didn''t tell you about it. Why keep it a secret?"


    "I had many things to deal with," said William. "She probably didn''t want to trouble me with it. Remember what happened in Khasmir?"


    "That was before the information came to light, William," Felix reminded him.


    William shook his head. This conversation was going to a different place than he wanted to talk about. "We shouldn''t discuss this here."


    "I see," said Amenos. "It is a good notion, but I fear it would be ineffective here. Duke Vanion is a powerful man with a great army and many followers.


    "Unfortunately, it is well into the advanced stages in this place. Worse still, there are operations in the countryside and neighboring cities. Many people here would come out in support of them, whether for fear or personal gain."


    "How?" asked William, surprised at these criminals'' freedom. How could they intimidate Lords with armies? "The militia system was designed for this very purpose. Anoa the Bright created it so that no man could abuse his power. If everyone can and will fight for themselves, then tyrants cannot thrive."


    "The militia system is less effective when the nobility is on your enemy''s side," said Jehair. "Without organization, nobles who were bribed could run interference. And there were other elements.


    "Outlaws became thick as thieves in places where the Healer''s Guild was resisted. The roads dried up." William wondered if that woman had been planted there. She''d left just as Tavish came in. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Why would King Andoa tolerate such a thing?" asked William, becoming more concerned. The tales he''d been told of Antion''s golden spires began to dim a bit in his mind, and he fought against it. "Why would the Paladins? They had no role in Khasmir until after I left. Only after the battle of Kynn, they became involved in anything."


    "King Andoa has become far less active with age," said Jehair. "And he is surrounded by serpents; I wonder if he even knows there is a problem.


    "Although the Korlac family has done quite well. They crushed attempts at lawlessness within their domain mercilessly."


    "And what of Lord Rius? Where does he stand?" asked William. "He has long been in correspondence with my Father, and Rusara knows him."


    "He is," said Jehair. "But I have not been able to get a meeting with him. He has come under pressure from Adrian Wrynncurth, and my time with Tanith Telus put him at length."


    William paused and considered his original mission. "How does Wrynncurth fit into this?"


    "From what I gather, he sought to have Tanith arrested as she tried to make for Artarq here," said Jehair.


    William considered the best solution. "...If what you say is true, this is not a criminal organization. It is an invasion, subverting lawful authority."


    "Lawful authority seems an arbitrary concept," said Jehair.


    "If Harlenor is to be overthrown, I''d rather it be in a glorious final battle¡ªnot being subverted by a collection of glorified footpads," said William.


    "In that, at least, I shall grant, your vision would be preferable," said Jehair. So there was some respect there. Unless she was plotting the downfall of Harlenor herself, but that was unlikely. Rusara had vouched for her.


    Felix paused. "...So, what is our course, William?"


    "Let me think," said William, considering things. "We have, at present, three possible ways to rally against these criminals.


    "First, I can undercut their profits by healing everyone I can."


    "I know of these men," said Amenos. "Without being checked by an outside power, the Healer''s Guild would break the legs of those you heal."


    "Perhaps," said William. "The second option is simply resorting to violence. A massacre should be coming shortly; I am nobility. We could find their strong places and pick a fight. People can''t commit crimes when they are dead."


    Jehair blinked in surprise while Amenos looked to Felix and then back. "That strategy employs a level of brutality I doubt Duke Vanion would approve of."


    "It would work," noted Felix. "Do that, and then heal everyone for a few days."


    "Yes, but it would cause only moderate damage, and they could return," said Jehair. "This is an important location for them; they can ship people everywhere. Arkan has many contacts in virtually every village.


    "You could wipe everyone out; might see them and their ilk return before the day was out."


    "Which leads me to the third possible response," mused William. "We make it so there is an organized response."


    Amenos looked to Jehair, and she back. After a moment, he clasped his hands and leaned forward. "Dunmoore is already en route, truthfully. I received a request to arrange a list of targets to remove.


    "We had planned to wait for his arrival and coordinate with him."


    "Why didn''t you say so in the first place?" asked William.


    "Dust Elves operate on a need-to-know basis," said Amenos, ever the professional. "So long as I thought you''d just be passing through, there wasn''t any reason to trouble you. I intended to follow the orders from Rusara and your Father and speed you on your way.


    "If you intend to become involved, however, you need the information. If you were not involved, telling you could tip off our enemies."


    William sighed. "That is not good enough.


    "The situation may worsen, or Dunmoore may be delayed or called off."


    "You weren''t nearly this ruthless when dealing with Karasush," noted Felix.


    "Yes, but Karasush had a legitimate goal he was working to, the preservation of his people," said William. "And by all accounts, he served his god loyally. These people seem to be just doing it for personal gain."


    "How many have you met?" asked Jehair, smiling as if remembering some far-off memory.


    "Some may have no other alternative. Others could be persuaded to join our side. If we can undermine them from within, we could grow stronger from their weaknesses."


    "Or leave behind little pieces of festering rot. From which new cancers will grow," noted William. He began to think that his presence had already been noted, and a response was being prepared.


    "You are dedicated to taking the place of Tanith, aren''t you?" asked Felix.


    "Well, I am acting in her stead," said William with a smile. "What would you say, Jehair?"


    "This Massacre you speak of, who is he?" asked Jehair.


    "She is an illusion, which is a longtime companion of mine. She chose to go through Seathorius on foot," said William, noting Jehair had not read his book. He felt slightly offended, though he knew he shouldn''t. "I believe we should seek information and gather support until such a time as she arrives."


    "Very well," said Jehair. "This seems as good a plan as any we could set up. How will we go about it?"


    "For a start, Felix and I will meet with Lord Rius and speak to him," said William. "We''ll raise the subject, learn his perspective, and try to make arrangements. Amenos, go to Tanith and tell her we''ll need her and her men.


    "I also advise her to be wary of merchants in this place and wait to cut any deals until I can meet with him. And inform her and the girl, Kata, of the situation. Tell her that many of her people may be being held here."


    "I have some friends in this city, and some of my people are due to meet me here on other business," said Amenos. "Making contact with them could help us prepare for a rising. And Tanith could be of great help.


    "Certainly, such a thing may be necessary if our enemy is strong enough. Though Dunmoore may be annoyed at having his glory stolen."


    "The man is the Grandmaster of the Paladin Order," said William with a shrug. "Paladins don''t fight for our glory, but the glory of Elranor. I expect he will be overjoyed to know that men are fighting against injustice alongside him.


    "I would be. I could focus on healing the sick and injured and saving the realm.


    "...Do so, Amenos."


    Jehair shifted. "Oh?


    "And what role do you have in mind for me in this omnipresent and benevolent conspiracy?"


    William considered options and came up with a role that benefited his allies. "...Investigate the slave trade. And find any evidence of Furbearers being held captive.


    "You could coordinate with Tanith on that."


    "Then how do you account for Tanith Telus?" asked Jehair. "If you have such a problem with slavery?"


    "I don''t have a problem with the institution," said William. "Selling captured plunder is one thing. Making a living in trafficking in living plunder is... distasteful."


    "Do you not benefit from it?" asked Jehair.


    "No, I do not," said William. "Anyway, it doesn''t matter. Tanith only told me he kept a Priestess of Baltoth as a slave; that doesn''t mean she sold them."


    "Is that supposed to make it better?" asked Felix.


    "Judge the matter for yourself," said William. "Taking an enemy as a slave is one thing; doing so to an ally is quite another."


    "Well, that is as good a justification as any," said Jehair.


    "Then let''s get going at once," said William, sipping his drink. "Where is Lord Rius'' castle?"


    "He does not have one," said Felix. "He lives in a manor near the city''s west side; I can lead you there."


    "How?" asked William. "I doubt you sat as his guest."


    "Duke Vanion went after that; he bought me," said Felix. "There were some trade disputes to discuss, and he told me to watch and learn."


    "Ah," said William. "And what did you think of Lord Rius?"


    "Duke Vanion was very reasonable," said Felix. "And Rius did not make any demands."


    Thus began the first instance of getting sidetracked on their quest to go from one place to another. William had the feeling he''d be doing this a lot.

 Chapter 133 - Five: Plans for Liberation

    The streets were as bad as the docks. William saw a Babarassian exchanging coins with a guard.


    Then a man came from the side with a knife, and William stepped away from his swipe. Grabbing him by the throat, he pulled him from the person he''d just healed and forced him to the ground.


    Several Babarassians drew swords, but one put a knife to an old man''s throat. "I''ll kill him! Drop the sword!"


    Then Felix stepped out of the shadows and grabbed the hostage taker by the sides of the head. Wrenching it to one side, there was a sickening snap as the man''s body fell to the ground. The others rushed at William, who ceded ground. He caught the leader''s blade on his shield and ran him through. The others encircled him, blades jabbing.


    Something hit his shoulder, and a blow knocked his shield to one side. His blade was repelled. Felix was dueling with one and couldn''t jump shadows without being killed. The pain of a blow to his knee plate sends him to one knee, and a blow strikes his helmet.


    Then Aras stepped from the shadows and cleaved four men down in a blur.


    His blade gleamed bright, and it was a sword for a King. Elven magic and steel had forged it, and they turned. His blade cut straight through the sword and helm of one. A riposte sent a sword swinging away before the wielding lost ahead. Another lost their hand and then was stabbed through the heart. Three more came at him from two sides, but he dodged and thrust, and two more fell dead.


    Aras wiped his sword and drew his bow in one motion. Two shots sent two assassins falling dead from the rooftop.


    How?


    Felix was injured to one side, and William healed him, aching. Then he cleaned his blade on the cloth of an enemy''s clothes, sheathed it, and went back to healing people.


    "You draw attention to yourself, William Gabriel," said Aras with a laugh. "Though in a good way, I won''t be able to help you again at this rate. You have a knack for getting into trouble." He unstrung his bow, and began to clean his sword.


    "I accept the help you offered with gratitude," said William.


    The guards who had done nothing fled.


    They returned to the journey to the manor, and Aras went elsewhere. Even so, it was slowed by having to heal everyone. Drunks lay in the gutter, stripped naked, and beggers were on every corner. Still, at least the architecture was nice. The buildings usually had balconies out on top. You could see well-dressed people eating and discussing business. Iron fences cordoned off these areas, and many savory plants were grown to disguise the smell.


    William did not blame these merchants. He wouldn''t want to make a deal in this mess.


    There were also water pumps designed to pull water up from underground. Yet the water that came out was a filthy brown. All but useless. No doubt it would have to be filtered, and William decided to record it;


    The first thing you needed was a funnel of some kind. Or, failing that, a series of baskets hanging over one another in a line. At the base of it would be fabric, then a layer of charcoal on top. Above that would be sand and a layer of gravel or grass. There were different varieties, but the campaign used it all the time.


    You poured the water down through the base, and it filtered through. As it did, it left the impurities behind, little by little. It was a kind of magic that the dwarves had shared with humanity many ages ago. There were several competing theories over which combination of filters was the best.


    However, the best choice was to drink no water and stick to alcohol when possible. The fast-flowing river water was a better alternative since it filtered itself naturally.


    Even so, how had the water become so filthy? Some of it had to be done twice. Demons sometimes left this kind of perpetual shame, but that came from unholy magics. Even satyrs would keep the water supply intact.


    "So, has anything changed since last you were here, Felix?" asked William as they walked.


    "The men who have overdosed on Torbin''s Take are new," said Felix.


    William had studied the herb. It cleared the mind but sent you into spasms if you used too much. It had been discovered by Torbin Benarus when he''d been on campaign for Anoa III. He''d been trying to extract the King''s tribute from rebels. If memory served, Torbin''s men had been afflicted with a spell that made it impossible to think. Boiling the plant created a pleasant smell that relaxed their senses. The spell had passed, and they were able to beat the rebels.


    It would please Elranor to deny the criminals their prize.


    "Anything else?" asked William.


    A man, tired and hungry, was loading a wagon with heavy boxes. Lilas was standing there, writing notes and paying attention to the boxes. Then, one broke as it was placed near the bottom. A bit of grain streamed out. The exhausted man stooped to save it from the ground. Then, by meticulous and swift work, they patched it.


    The cargo was loaded.


    "Your pay is forfeit," said Lilas as though talking to himself. He should have looked up from his financial book. "You damaged the cargo."


    The workers slumped in exhaustion and said nothing.


    And he walked off, armed men, most of them red-haired, looking at them in contempt. William wondered how Lilas had not seen him clad in black skull armor. But he realized Lilas never looked at people if he didn''t need them.


    William was near the worst-off people. Lilas had never even looked in his direction. His association with them put William beneath notice.


    Well, it didn''t matter, and William nodded to Felix.


    Felix moved over to the men and offered them some coins. "Consider this: you''re due for helping avoid hunger across the continent."


    "Thank you," said the man. "How may I help you?"


    "Tell me of Lilas?" asked Felix.


    "Well, I''ve worked for him twenty years," said the man, mopping his sweat. "He came here with money from King Gavin, and we set up this business together. I moved cargo, and he directed people to me.


    "Lilas played middleman with many businesses. He worked his way up, and I worked my way along. Eventually, he bought this place out and kept me on. I doubt he even remembers my name."


    "What is your name?" asked Felix. "It may be recorded?"


    "Robert Aldious," said the man. "Lilas has got a lot of money. But sooner or later, he will reach too far. The merchants love him."


    "My sympathies," said Felix. "Does Lilas have any hold over Rius?"


    "Lilas has a hold over people," said the man. "And Rius doesn''t care how the taxes are paid as long as they are paid. And, like anyone else, he wants his cut."


    The disrespect irritated William, but he said nothing as he finished and went on. Why was Rius not referred to by his proper title?


    "This is very bad," said Felix quietly as they walked away. "Rius is losing respect."


    William said nothing and walked.


    At last, they came to the manor, a huge, white-walled, three-story house made of fine stone. It was built right up against the southern inland wall. Men were at the doors, clad in leather, and were not city guards. A beggar was dying by the door, and dogs were licking his sores.


    William healed him.


    "Here is the manor," said Felix. "Though these men do not seem like the normal kind."


    William nodded as he got there. The guards put their hands to their knives as he did. "Who are you?"


    "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel. I wish to speak with our longtime friend and ally, Rius," said William. "I am passing through his territory.


    "Make way."


    "Why should we?" began the guard.


    "Because I am a noble," said William.


    They looked at one another. "Let him in."


    But another held his shoulder, and he nodded before entering. A doorman came out past the doorman. "You are the son of Duke Vanion''s? I assure you that Baron Rius will be only too happy to cooperate with you. Come in." They went beyond the door into a cloakroom.


    "Master Hawkthorne has been here for some time already."


    "Hawkthorne is here?" asked William, remembering the name.


    "You do not know?" asked the doorman. "I had taken your presence and was here to meet with him."


    Someone took hold of William''s leg, and he looked down to see a woman unable to walk. Kneeling, he healed her.


    "Rise and be cured," said William. "If you''ll excuse me.


    "Reg Hawkthorne''s actions were taken with neither our knowledge nor will. I have only just learned of this."


    "You mean to say that..." The doorman looked to the door, then back. "I''ve said too much. You must follow me and stop for nothing. If Master Hawkthorne sees you, it might cause problems."


    "As you wish, though you seem to have more fear of him than your own Master," noted William. He healed a beggar dying by the door. However, even as he did, three more came to him. These, too, he healed, only to find six coming at him afterward.


    Word had spread of his deeds. And this was his reward.


    "Felix," said William. "Get the people I have already healed off the streets! They are forming a mob! Send them to find any sick or injured who cannot get here by their power; take them gently here!


    "Bring children and the elderly forth first! And will someone find some healers that the Guild wouldn''t dare touch," He looked to the guards. "You two, form a line and make sure no one cuts in it."


    They pressed around him from all sides. The stink of plague and unwashed bodies was everywhere.


    And soon, as he fought to hold back the tide, men gathered. Hard men with weapons eyed him hatefully. Then, moving forward, they were stopped when Lilas stepped in. He spoke quietly and softly to them, and they departed. But William already knew what was coming, for he saw the flat rooftops above them. The perfect place for an archer.


    So, he kept himself somewhere where others would not be hit. And soon, an archer came upward onto the roof and drew back an arrow. William looked at him, and he hesitated for a moment. Hesitated as more and more people were healed in wave after wave. Was that a flicker of conscience on his face?


    Yet his eyes turned backward.


    And at last, he launched his arrow. William raised his shield, and the bolt struck hard. It pierced straight through wood and steel to go out the other side. What tortured this land? Jehair probably knew; no wonder she''d been so irritable.


    Another arrow was launched, and William caught that as well. The blow shook his feet, and he kept healing. Felix and the guards looked at one another. "William, get into the manor!"


    "No," said William.


    Another arrow fell as the tides continued. And this one nearly grazed his armor. Drawing his sword, he cleaved them off. Felix phased into the shadows as the bow was drawn back again. Up the walls, he scaled and was on the archer, snatching his bow and throwing him off the wall to land hard.


    William moved forward and found him, trying to limp away. But the crowds were on him, grasping him. William rushed forward. "No, let him go! He is in need."


    And he restored the man to health.


    The man stood up, unsteadily staring at him.


    "What is your name?" asked William.


    "Cassian of Sorn," said the man.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Who sent you?" asked William.


    "The Healer''s Guild, who else," said the man. Then he drew a knife and went at him, but William disarmed him with a hand and broke the knife.


    "Then go and sin no more," said William.


    The man stared at him as though he''d grown a second head. His mouth opened and shut. Then he shrugged. "As you wish."


    And he left. William turned back to the servant or where he had been. The man came back. Looking to the windows, he looked to Felix. "Did you see anyone looking out those?"


    "No," said Felix.


    Then the man came back. "Lord Rius forgives your delay and awaits your coming," said the man.


    William waited, adjusting his cloak as Felix took a position in the shadows by the door.


    "Well, it seems someone has been misusing House Gabriel''s good name," said Felix.


    "I noticed," noted William. "What do we do about this?"


    "Find out who it is, kill them all, and publicly display their executions. Then make it clear we have no association with them," said Felix.


    "That''s ruthless of you," noted William.


    "This behavior could ruin Duke Vanion if it becomes associated with him," said Felix. "And they''ve just tried to murder you in public."


    William looked around the waiting room, where people wore their coats and boots. It was magnificent, with silver-lined walls. Many fancy designs depicted no story made from priceless shells.


    There weren''t any religious images or tapestries on the walls. Nor was there any great story recorded. There were several pictures, and all of them were about food or material things. The most interesting was a ship sailing out to sea on a clean dock. There was a mournful figure at the end. The figure looked a lot like Father, with dark hair and a cloak, but his cloak was ragged and exposed to the winds. Yet he was unbowed by them and walked on nonetheless.


    He was not rich but with nobility and strength in his own right. However, William doubted that was the intended reason for it. It almost seemed an insult, perhaps to Rius.


    "If this is his coatroom," said Felix. "What may we expect inside?"


    "Since we won''t be getting past the coatroom," said William. "We''ll never know."


    Eventually, the door opened, and Rius entered, and William saw a glimpse of what lay beyond. There was a very large staircase with gold lining, and the walls were also lined with precious metals. Most of these precious metals were more expensive. There were one or two pictures, most of them of foreign Lords.


    Then the door was shut. Rius'' head was bald, save for two sideburns, and his eyes peered at them carefully. He noted William''s armor and halted.


    William removed his helmet and nodded.


    "William Gabriel?" said Rius. "You are late."


    "Lord Edgar Rius," said William, considering what to say. "I apologize. It is my custom to heal the sick and injured where I go. It seems your enemies have ensured many of them, and a mob assailed me."


    "Such is the risk of handouts, I''m afraid," said Rius in a voice meant to be affable. But, in practice, it just sounded dismissive. "Though some reported that your House had a hand in this."


    "I knew nothing of what has been happening here," said William. "Once I learned of your plight, I came to assist."


    "I''m pleased to hear it, but you''ll forgive me if I''m skeptical," said Rius. "I wonder if House Gabriel does not forget where it stands among the nobility of Antion."


    "I believe I should be asking your forgiveness in this situation," noted William. Just who was Rius to dismiss Vanion as a vassal? ''What has happened here?" S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Rius sat down and put down a candle. A useless gesture since he was surrounded by light. "It started when Calishan Wars escalated.


    "A huge flow of mercenaries to come through here. Merchants also came with wares and supplies to sell at the campaign, and fleets of ships also came. People had put aside funds and stores solely to account for this day."


    "And then the war ended," mused William.


    "Yes," said Rius. "One moderate battle and the whole thing is concluded with a beneficial truce. It bankrupted many merchants and left many Crusaders with no purpose."


    "But what about the Khasmir campaign? That lasted a long time," noted William, becoming annoyed. If Rius couldn''t keep order in his streets, he had no business whining to a fifteen-year-old. But this would be impolite to say. But that would not help. "And many warriors joined it. Even the Paladins took part, though it was after my departure."


    "Yes, but it was against demons," said Rius. "Vanion did not allow the looting of the people there. There wouldn''t have been a problem if he''d allowed Raynald to sack a few villages."


    "My cousin Varsus did the negotiating, I believe," noted William.


    "Yes, he did," said Rius. "He was very polite and didn''t leverage people nearly as much as he could." That was said almost dismissively. "But he refused to accept a bad deal and didn''t have to work with all that many people. Most of those he worked with ended up being those he had a prior relationship with."


    And among them was not Rius.


    And who was Rius to complain anyway?


    "The problem was that House Hawkthorne came up with an immense amount of money," said Rius. "Nearly limitless. I gather quite a few Bretusians moved finances in.


    "Pretty soon, they started buying out all the merchants, giving them loans in exchange for fees. I confess, I did some buying out myself. They needed the money, and having merchants under your influence is good.


    "Pretty soon, we had hundreds of mercenaries hanging about. Then Reg Hawkthorne came in.


    "He declares that he is here on behalf of House Gabriel and taking control. And that if I know what''s good for me, I''ll do as he says."


    "He can''t do that!" said William in horror. "You can''t walk into another man''s country and declare yourself the leader! Not without a cause of war or vendetta!"


    "My dear boy, I''ve found that you can do about anything if you are strong and someone else is weak," noted Rius. He sounded like he was trying to be sad. But his tone was superior, as though it was a triumph that it was so. "Life is not a story; you''ll find that out to your sorrow if you keep trying all these childish heroes."


    "That''s not the point," said William, mastering himself. "We don''t just have codes and rules because it''s right to have them! They are also for our protection!


    "If nobles ignore the rules of war and peace, others will also! There will be no order to any of it! Even if his plan succeeded, it would only work until the Paladin Order arrived to bring him to justice!" It occurred to William that Rius hadn''t violated any rules.


    This was, technically, his city to do with as he willed.


    "That may be the point," said Felix.


    "The slave speaks sense. Do you think Reg Hawkthorne is capable of a plan like this?" asked Rius. "If Reg gets total control of this city, sooner or later, King Andoa will hear of it. Then he''ll gather an army, take control of cheering crowds, and be the end of House Hawkthorne.


    "Who is the real mastermind then?" asked William.


    "You need to ask only three questions for that," said Rius. "First, who benefits from doing this? Second, who would be able to do this? And third, who would be willing to do this?


    "Once you answer those three questions. You only need to apply the remaining name that fits the plan best. So think."


    William considered the question and remembered his training. Father had taught him many such things. "This is not the sort of plan Melchious would use. The other Harlenorian Kingdoms gain nothing by gutting Antion. Calisha is vested in our survival; we''re the only ones who can negotiate.


    "Arraxia doesn''t have this kind of money, and her servants are satyrs. Most of the nobility of Artarq now have no choice but to remain loyal.


    "The gangs from Arsheen?


    "Or the people backing them."


    "That was my assessment as well," said Rius, too quickly for William to believe it. "Someone out there, William Gabriel, hates you a great deal."


    "Felix, what of Jehair''s view on the matter?" asked William.


    "Don''t trust Jehair, not yet," said Felix.


    "Jehair and Amenos?" asked Rius. "I had wondered why they were there. Certainly, they have not had any part in the takeover.


    "We have to be very careful in how we approach this." What did Rius want his records for? William couldn''t imagine Rius looking through stacks of reports. Had he misjudged the man?


    "It''s the Paladin Order," said Felix.


    "Felix, that is ridiculous," said William.


    "Why?" asked Felix. "Paladins can go into any territory and domain in Harlenor without leave. Planting Reg here would be a perfect excuse to come in as a conquering hero. And also weaken House Gabriel. They could devise some excuse that justified it. Only the higher-ups would have to know.


    "They could just tell the lower orders they were here as liberators."


    "They would all be stripped of their powers by Elranor immediately," said William.


    "Would they?" asked Felix. "The Paladin Order is an important political entity in Antion, albeit one past its prime. Elranor has always taken a hands-off approach to governance. Given that most of the Paladins would not even know the details, on what grounds could they be stripped of power?


    "Perhaps whoever organized the operation might. But they might even be a Paladin, just some scribe in the background. Avoiding personal responsibility is the mark of all politicians."


    Rius laughed nervously. "Why don''t we put such theories aside until we leave this mess? Then, whoever is behind it does not matter if we all end up dead or ruined by them.


    "As a point of fact, I already have a plan.


    "I may not be much of a warrior, but you don''t survive in this port without knowing how to scheme." Common people had said as much, but it was a poor excuse from Rius. "The sheer audacity of this move took me off guard. So, I lay still and made all the motions of being completely cowed.


    "I''ve been waiting for him to drop his guard to make a move. That time has, more or less, happened, and I''ve been coordinating with my militia by secret messages." William noticed that in a potted plant was a flower similar to that of the inn. So Jehair was listening to all of this and had been.


    Did Rius even know what it meant? Did anyone?


    "My servants have yet to be nearly so well watched," said Rius. "You may have noticed a pink-haired girl named Imogen."


    "I did not hear the name, but I did notice her," said William.


    "Yes, well, she has a knack for hearing and seeing things and picking pockets," said Rius. "I''ve gained the numbers of his people, and I have an idea of his movements. I am in contact with my men and can order them to rise at will. The problem is that we are heavily outnumbered.


    "I tried to send a man to Brisgald, but he was turned back at the gates." Why? Did Uncle truly hate Rius that much? William had known they''d disliked one another, but not to this extent. "If you could get out to Brisgald and get help from House Gabriel, we might wipe them out. All my men would need to do is open the gates. I doubt you''ll find any resistance from the populace."


    Help from Brisgald? Rius'' solution to this problem was to invite a rival Lord into the city to reconquer it for him.


    Had Rius ever walked the streets? Or led men at all? This place around William was very ornate. Elaborate designs on the walls, and this was only the antechamber. There were solid silver candlesticks out here. How much money was there? Melt down a few of these treasures, and you could hire an army.


    Best to change the subject. This was Rius'' city.


    "What about the Furbearers?" asked William.


    "Ah, that," said Rius. "That is not a matter I had any choice in. Ascorn is neutral ground."


    More excuses. Didn''t this man have a sense of responsibility?


    "Is that a picture of my Father?" William asked privately, thinking it must be more interesting than the others.


    "It was a gift from him," said Rius. "One must give gifts to the nobility of Antion after ascending a position. So when Desora was one, it was a choice between Vanion and Argath Marn.


    "I put aside my personal feelings and choose the more accomplished warrior."


    Meaning that it made him more money. Marn had given Rius many wondrous gifts for his help. Duke Vanion had received nothing.


    "Why aren''t these riches being used to equip your men outside?" asked William finally.


    "Antion learned long ago that the old obsession with violence is a liability," said Rius with a smile.


    Warriors were the principal backbone of Harlenor. The ability to fight was an integral part of their identity. The militia system set down by Anoa the Bright was Harlenor''s guiding principle. Men who could fight were not easily oppressed.


    "Who would you say is the best of the merchants?" asked William.


    "Well, that would be Lilas Acren, of course," said Rius enthusiastically. He makes an immense profit for us and always pays his dues on time. He always provides an ample table when visited and knows his place.


    "Your Father, as well." The last part was said almost as a warning.


    "Does one give more honor to a rich merchant than to your King?" asked William suddenly with more heat than he planned.


    Rius flinched and started thinking hard. "Well, King Andoa has rarely had much of a presence lately. And it can''t be denied Lilas has done good work. He would be almost a friend if not for class barriers.


    "He was a low-ranking noble seeking to rise by his means and has done so. He and Vanion are kin of a kind. I have a portrait of him out there. I can show it to you if we ever dine."


    "Who is the best of your warriors?" asked William. "Your counterpart to Lilas?"


    Rius seemed to consider that far too obvious. "Well, I don''t have much call to concern myself with warriors. The old campaigning days are long past." Now, he is invoking a successful career when he had been denigrating it. "Most of the great warriors prefer Artarq."


    There was nothing else to say.


    "Well, then, I will return to the city and investigate things as best I can," said William. "It may be that we can find a much easier solution¡ªone that doesn''t require a full-scale battle. It may destroy our real enemies."


    "If you can provide me with such a way, I will be a very happy man," said Rius, pleased at his apparent victory. "Wars are always expensive, especially when they happen on my doorstep.


    "For now, I must meet some distinguished guests for dinner. You may eat with us if one of them invites you. It would not be appropriate for me to add another so quickly."


    "As you wish," said William. The idea did not appeal, but he must humor him. Declining or not offering such an invitation would be a grave insult.


    Rius went and left him there in the coat room. Felix and William shared a glance, and William shrugged.


    Rius finally came back in a splendid violet cloak, the color of royalty. It was adorned with diamonds, and his hair and beard were waxed. He opened the door. William followed him out, wearing armor filthy from labor.


    William would have to clean it soon, which would be miserable work.


    There were many wealthy-looking merchants. Many were in the halls of Rius''s home while Duke Vanion was in the coat room.


    William stepped to one side, guessing that he would be snubbed. He did his best to look expectant. To his surprise, there were a great many healthy commoners standing around in the dim hours of the day.


    "Ah, my friends," said Rius. "There has no doubt been some trouble of late.


    "But I know that each of you has played a part in resolving it. Follow with me, and let us eat."


    All of the merchants walked past William without a second glance. Lilas was last, walking slowly and halted, apparently reluctantly. "I''m afraid the distinguished citizens of Ascorn all heard your story, Sir Gabriel."


    "That''s why nobody will remember their names," said William. And he made a note not to record any of them.


    Lilas flinched, and several of the merchants stepped back in fear. Cheers came from the crowds, and many threw rotten vegetables at the merchants. Many fled back as the crowd they had ignored now moved forward as if for blood. William drew his sword. "Hold where you are.


    "None will harm Lord Rius''s guests while they are under his protection! I will slay any who attempt it!"


    Rius nodded sagely as they rushed into the house. William watched them go and noted that Lilas was smart enough to keep his composure. After a moment, he turned and walked back in, nodding to him as though it had been expected.


    Smart.


    Lilas was decent at working for a crowd when he knew it was there. Which meant he was much more dangerous than William had thought.


    William turned to the people. "Disperse and make yourselves useful.


    "Plans are in motion, and you may have an important role in them."


    They nodded, and the supremacy of the nobility was saved.


    For now.


    Lord Rius had traded his birthright to become a mediocre merchant. Even though William saved him, he must despise him.


    "What inn do you want to stay at?" asked Felix.


    "We''re camping in the street when night comes," said William.


    "Why?" asked Felix.


    "It''s cheaper this way," said William.


    All this luxury among filth made him hate both all the more.

 Chapter 134 - Six: Old Friends

    Tanith had a bad feeling about this.


    The city gates on the inland side stood tall and proud, with clean white walls. But they were crumbling from loose mortar in some places, just like last time. And the shore was crawling with Babarassians. The fighting had been going on all day, and it was impossible to get a real count. By all accounts, the city was in chaos.


    Now, Kata and Tanith were busy getting the supplies they needed for a return journey. Difficult because half the usual areas for buying were abandoned. Eventually, she ran into a merchant named Lilas.


    And he''d been kind enough to provide what they needed for a reasonable price.


    "How did you get this grain on short notice?" asked Tanith.


    "By the skin of my teeth," said Lilas. "I''ve had to press my workers very hard to get anything out. With the chaos of Lord Rius'' helplessness, things are impossible."


    "That is not how you talk about nobility," said Tanith.


    Her anger at his stupidity had been directed at Relma and Arengeth. Mostly.


    "Forgive me," said Lilas. "I had to discipline several long-term servants of mine. It has left me ill-disposed."


    "Well, you have to keep discipline in the ranks," said Tanith.


    "Sir Gabriel knows a great deal about that, I suppose," said Lilas.


    "Of course he does," said Tanith. "William is true nobility. He might not associate with commoners much, but he lives to ensure their safety and well-being."


    "The commoner''s safety?" asked Lilas, raising an eyebrow.


    "Yes," said Tanith, explaining as she would to a child. "That''s how the feudal deal works. We protect, lead, and set a moral example. They follow and give us taxes. You should know this already; you''re one of us."


    Lilas nodded. "Well, I won''t keep you any longer. I''m sure you have a long journey ahead."


    Lilas had been taking her measure.


    Why?


    "Pay him, Kata," said Tanith.


    Kata moved forward and gave Lilas the agreed-upon payment. It had been a gift to her from the ship William had healed the injured on. That, as well as many of the grateful citizens of Ascorn.


    Lilas opened his mouth to speak to Kata, but Tanith looked at him. He shrugged and nodded.


    "Good day," said Lilas.


    And he went off.


    So what had Tanith learned from that? Lilas had been helpful, but he''d told her nothing. No personal statements or explanations of who he was. Nothing other than the fact that he was a merchant and interested in learning about Tanith. He was around Duke Vanion''s age, so what did he want here? Was he nobility?


    "Keep your knives close," said Tanith. "This is one of their ships. You''d better have a couple of people ready with spears at all times.


    "Double the guard. Also, don''t go into bars; you''ll get eaten alive."


    "Is it that dangerous? They eat people?" asked Kata, eyes widening.


    "No, but this place seems a lot different than before," said Tanith. "I''ll find the supplies, stay here, and don''t let anyone near the ship. Something is happening here, and if you don''t have a strong front, you may get walked on." She turned to walk away.


    "Don''t you need the money?" asked Kata.


    "I''m going to have a look around," said Tanith. "We''re not shipping out until William is out of the city. Keep a guard up here and take nothing on faith."


    "We did in the Islands of Torment," said Kata. "A merchant who broke his word would never have business again. It happened to a few of Tavish''s associates who tried to fleece us." That was why Tavish made the move he did. Or whoever was backing Tavish?


    "Yes, but you have a smaller population," said Tanith. "And short-range boats. So, if you went around cheating people, everyone would know who they are. This place is filled with people who will never return after they leave.


    "When you deal with someone, always ask, ''What can I do to this person if they cheat me?'' If they are on the pier without the cargo and they demand the money, you tell them you want to see the cargo. Once you confirm it''s all there, you give them what you owe them and nothing else. They''ll count it out carefully if they''re smart.


    "Trust no one; verify everything."


    "How do you sleep?" asked Kata, curious.


    "With a beautiful woman in each arm, if I''m lucky," said Tanith, giving her a smile that made her blush. "Otherwise, I sleep at home. You can only feel secure when you have someone you can trust backing you up."


    "If you say so," said Kata doubtfully.


    "I''ll be back," said Tanith.


    Tanith made her way down the pier and out to the main dock, which was well-paved and had quite a few less sick people. Many of them had been going off looking for William since he started healing them. Which was fine with her, but she noted several men gathering. These were not Babarassians at all.


    They had skin like Harlenorians, but their features were less angular. They were more stocky, and they wore their red hair short. Most wore leather and spears. She remembered some of these kinds from the campaign. Bretusians, a group of men from another world. She''d had to kill a few for looting.


    Raynald had given strict orders. And while they had been good fighters, they''d been bad company. They tended to swear a lot and had little respect for class. Even men of their class. From the looks of things, after finishing in Khasmir. They''d come back here with the rest of the mercenaries.


    Clever.


    Naturally, they''d have merchant contacts to arrange all this. And the Babarassians were being used as a ploy to move in. No doubt they''d push Rius to appoint people or give them more power. So, kill them all and let the Gods sort them out.


    Tanith kept walking. As she did, many rough and ready men accosted her.


    "Get back, bitch," said one. "You''re not getting off this dock alive. You or any of those animals."


    Tanith was going to enjoy this. "Don''t be a fool.


    "I''m going to go wherever I want because I am a noble of Harlenor, and you are foul-mouth immigrants. Kata is my friend.


    "You have no authority to bar me." There were seven of them, all rough-looking. Why hadn''t they robbed Lilas blind? He''d been poorly guarded and holding a lot of money.


    "Our weapons are our authority," said the man.


    Tanith walked forward anyway, and they were on her with weapons. A few moments later, their blood was all over the streets, and her swords were back in their sheathes.


    One of them was still alive and gurgling.


    "Yeah, because another pointless fight is exactly what I need," laughed Tanith. She put her foot on his skull and crushed it. "You''re really lucky I didn''t get any of my blood on your tunic. I''ve got people to impress." She spun her swords to get the blood off.


    Everyone else stepped back nervously. Making sure to check behind her, Tanith moved toward one of the merchant''s inns. Most of them hosted merchants who supplied ships along the shore. As she did, however, she saw a familiar face.


    He had tawny brown hair and was clad in white. His eyes were wide, and there was an innocent look to him. A child ran by in front of him and tripped and fell. She started crying while clutching her leg. Tanith moved toward him, noticing a boy preparing to swoop in as he knelt by her.


    "Ow, my leg!" cried the girl.


    "Hold on, let me see," said the man. Why did she remember him? Either way, he healed the bruise. There was a middle-aged man in the alley, beset with sores.


    "Are you sure you should be doing that, Mr?" asked the girl.


    "Don''t worry about it," said the man. "A Paladin''s job is to help the needy. Go on."


    As the girl ran off, she snatched the Paladin''s purse. Tanith, however, caught up in a few strides, drew her dagger, and set it to the thief''s throat. "Give me the damn money, you little brat, or I''ll carve your eyes out!"


    "I''m sorry, I''m sorry, I didn''t-" began the girl.


    "I don''t care whether you are sorry," said Tanith. "Stealing from nobility is a severe crime. Give the money to me!"


    The girl gave the money back with a gulp. So Tanith removed her knife and stood up. "Now, get out of here. If you want to steal things that don''t belong to you, join a fleet and raid your nation''s enemies."


    They ran off, very nervous, and Tanith looked to the Paladin, who looked in surprise. Now she remembered him from the mission. She tossed the coins back to him. Several others were injured.


    Tanith thought about the sick man. Then she shrugged. He was a Walesan and probably an enemy. She had no healing powers, and obviously, Paladin had better things to do. If he was lucky, he''d run into William.


    "You always were an easy mark, Suran," said Tanith. "How have you been?"


    "Not in the habit of threatening children with knives," said Suran. Since when did he care so much about orphans?


    "You''re nobility, Suran," said Tanith. "Nobility of a foreign world, but nobility nonetheless. If you don''t stand for your rights, you''ll lose your rights." She hugged him and then separated. "Let this kind of thing slide once, and you fall off a ledge."


    "I could say the same thing about you," said Suran. "Is what happened in Gel Carn true?"


    "Depends on what you''re talking about," said Tanith. "Benarus was doing nothing while Telix was raiding his people." The man in the alley was listening, and it bothered Tanith.


    "You went over the local Lord''s head," noted Suran.


    "I lost all respect for him when he let his people get kidnapped by demons and did nothing," said Tanith. "Once he did that, the only bond we had was money. And he wasn''t paying me nearly enough to justify the disrespect I was getting."


    "You haven''t changed," laughed Suran.


    "Are you going to heal that old man?" asked Tanith.


    Suran looked up. "...There are always going to be the sick and injured. I wasn''t even supposed to be healing that girl. Unfortunately, there are too many people to help right now."


    "Fine, whatever, I don''t care," said Tanith. Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Suran seemed to feel the gaze of people on him. "We shouldn''t be talking here. It''s a long story, but I could use your help. You have a minute?"


    "Well, my mission is more or less accomplished, so why not," said Tanith.


    Suran led them down the street, and Tanith walked. Why hadn''t he healed the guy? He''d already drawn a crowd, so what did he lose by it?


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "So," said Tanith. "Did you hear about the fighting?"


    Suran nodded. "I think we could use your help, then. My brethren and I were preparing to do something about... all this.


    "The truth is I was reluctant to do much healing for fear of certain operations. One or two people could pass under, but we could have a problem any more than that. Have you heard about the Healer''s Guild?"


    "Yeah, I know they were setting up operations. They haven''t gotten here, have they?" asked Tanith. The odd thing was that Suran was a bit like Lilas, like but unlike.


    "They''ve taken over everything. Technically speaking, it''s illegal to heal without reason," said Suran. "Though I don''t think this extends to noble privilege."


    "So do it anyway," said Tanith.


    "We have to keep a low profile," said Suran. "It''s a rule."


    Tanith didn''t believe this for a minute. "So why were you healing the pickpocket? That would have gotten you way more attention than some drunk."


    "I had a moment of weakness, and I didn''t see him," said Suran. "Once everyone was looking, making a spectacle of things could be bad."


    "Fair enough," said Tanith, who was rapidly losing interest.


    A beautiful elf maid with long, dark hair and a heaving bosom was sitting in a shadowy corner. She wore white garb. Tanith noted that she had a very slim waist and wide hips. She spoke in low tones with several other armored men and seemed the leader.


    Most bore the emblem of the Paladin Order, the symbol of two shining eyes. "Suran, you are here at last," she said, breathless. "Yet I note in your company one of the companions of William Gabriel.


    "What is the meaning of this?"


    "This is Tanith Telus, an old friend," said Suran. "We worked together at war with the Calishans. She wasn''t with William when I found her."


    Tanith sat across from the woman, noting a weather-beaten man beside her. "Suran and his men staged a distraction that drew off the Calishan army. They held out on a hill while we seized their fortress. When they saw Antion''s banner raised over the hilltop, they panicked. Then Suran descended like a hell fiend with his men and routed them.


    "I didn''t even get a chance to flank them before we were overrun."


    "Well, I wouldn''t want people calling me a hell fiend," laughed Suran, sitting down. He was always trying to be nicer than he was.


    "Well then, I welcome you to our company," said the woman. "I am Farwa Arenstar of the Paladin Order, and I am here on behalf of Lord Dunmoore. It is my great honor to have been given one of the first commands to elves in the order.


    "What business brings you here?"


    Were they giving positions to elves now? That was suicide. Something had to be done about this before a generation passed. "Chance mostly," said Tanith. "I was escorting a friend as he handled some problems. Some of them I created, so it''s the least I can do."


    "You refer to the incident with the dragon, Adrian Wrynncurth?" asked Farwa. "I have seldom heard of any dragon who has been a friend of man nor a moneylender. Wrynncurth is both, so I am certain you have your reasons." The other Paladins looked at one another, then at him.


    "You are too hard on him, Farwa," said the weather-beaten man. "Wrynncurth is in a difficult position. He survives by lending money; the more money is in a place, the more the wicked are drawn to it.


    "One who handles coinage will always get their hands dirty. That does not mean they are rotten at heart."


    "And who are you?" asked Tanith.


    "I am Aras," said the man. "A ranger of some repute.


    "I met your friend, William Gabriel, earlier. He has decided to start a fight in the best way. He began healing everyone he saw, and it was this that drew those Escorians to your location. I''m afraid things are now moving much faster than we thought." Aras, the name of the Prince?


    And he held authority here?


    "Farwa, can we avoid a war?" asked Suran in concern.


    "Probably not," admitted Farwa. "We''ll just have to curb needless destruction and make it turn out for the best."


    "The best could mean different things to come here," said Tanith. She looked at the fire nearby. Then she saw him;


    He had messy blonde hair and big, innocent eyes. He had a cheerful expression on his face and wore bright colors. He was talking to a long-haired redhead who looked far more emotionally mature than him. She endured his silly and eccentric explanations without complaint, and he amused her.


    All because he made her laugh.


    It was a new redhead to take care of him. Complete with a sword and quiver.


    Anborn.


    Tanith went for her knife and was caught by Aras as she meant to stand. "Why do you go toward your brother with murderous intent?"


    "You know why," said Tanith. "Unhand me."


    "I cannot allow you to murder your brother," said Aras.


    The redhead looked over to Tanith, who met her gaze, then relented. She had not heard what was said but now had a thoughtful look on her face. Anborn kept talking and eating greatly, but she was no longer amused. And then, at that moment, she realized the part he had in her and that he had it no longer.


    Standing up, she spoke a polite word to him and walked out. Right past another girl he''d had the same relationship with spiky red hair. Her hair was a touch brighter. Anborn looked slightly disappointed, then finished his meal and walked out.


    She''d kill him.


    "He is still young," said Aras, catching her hand.


    "He''s twenty-four," said Tanith. "And older than me. You should have let me kill him."


    "It would grieve your parents deeply," said Farwa.


    "Less deeply than you''d think," said Tanith.


    "Friends, friends, please!" said Aras. "We are here to discuss the problem of chaos in the streets.


    "I think we can leave one man late to mature for later."


    "Somehow, this is his fault," said Tanith.


    "Let it go," said Farwa sadly.


    "Judging from the number of armed Babarassians, I''d say there has been a takeover," said Aras quickly. "Someone has been orchestrating a series of conflicts here to destabilize Ascorn.


    "Perhaps to take power-"


    "No, for trade," said Tanith. "To throw the trade routes into further chaos. Ascorn is the most important port on this side of the continent. If it breaks down, transit breaks down. And with the early ending of the war, many people are out of work."


    "Whoever it was," said Aras. "They would need to be very rich. And also not nobility.


    "A noble would never risk the rebellions that could ensue; they are invested in the land. The Sornians might use such tactics. But they are preparing for a full-scale war in the Islands of Power. The Merchant Lord, Sen Kaba, did make a killing, purchasing weapons at a loss."


    "Escor doesn''t have time to play this kind of game," said Tanith. "Arengeth is hardly holding the place together. Gel Carn is a backwater with no pull, and Wrynncurth has nothing to gain. Everyone else is too remote to set this up without a contact to open the door."


    "Whatever the case, we have a serious problem," said Aras. "Lord Dunmoore is on his way as we speak. And this is not a cure better than the disease. Dunmoore is no fool but is used to a different kind of evil."


    "Do you think Rius will lose his position?" asked Suran.


    "It''s possible," said Aras. "Leaving a land unmanaged for a time is acceptable. Provided that land is well-managed in your absence. Rius, however, has been physically present and has not kept control. Far from it, he has profited by it tremendously."


    "In that, we may be agreed," said Farwa. "Happily, Lord Dunmore is en route as we speak. Our main task is to locate the usual areas of operation for the various entities. Then, we determine if they are criminals.


    "Our contact, Imogen, has identified them for us."


    "Can you rely on this person?" asked Tanith.


    "Well, she''s the Goddess of Thieves," said Aras. "So yes.


    "Imogen always sides against organized crime, though not organized criminals. But she only tells as much as she wants to. So I expect there is a great deal she hasn''t told us. In my experience, she is generally benevolent."


    "But can you rely on her?" asked Tanith.


    "I will vouch for her in this," said Aras. "She does not like large groups of criminals getting organized. Her preference is a more heroic kind of thief. The ones'' who steal fire from the gods. Or who steal from the rich and give to the poor. Often, she introduces herself as a childhood friend, which she is, in a way.


    "Anyone who has ever stolen sweat meats or seen them stolen knows it. Though, those of a more rustic kind rarely meet her."


    "Whatever the choice, the matter has been decided for us," returned Farwa. "I confess, this place has not impressed me."


    "Damning inditement indeed," said Aras, laughing. "I should hope to be able to produce one or two counterpoints."


    "We need to act as their ally. To set an example to give them hope," Suran halted.


    "I''d much rather just kill the reason I need hope in the first place," said Tanith, liking Suran less by the minute. She looked to Farwa. "And what are your plans now?"


    "Our purpose is simple," asked Farwa. "We open the gates when Lord Dunmoore arrives. From there, we direct him to all critical areas so we can liberate them.


    "You and others have until then to fix things."


    "We can handle the gates," said Aras.


    "Knowing Rusara," said Tanith. "Amenos might already have a plan and be putting his pieces into place. And William is sure to heal everyone he can.


    "You should seek out Amenos."


    "Are you sure he has good intentions, Tanith?" asked Farwa gently. "Dust Elves often use deception as a means to advance their goals. They have a sense of honor, which is not based on right and wrong. Rather on respect."


    "So what?" asked Tanith. "Everyone does."


    "I am more concerned about your friend William," said Aras. "He is trying to confront the corruption of the world directly. Thus far, that policy has served him well.


    "However, there have already been several assassination attempts. For his sake, I think we must fix things here and get him into the wilds. Jehair can lead him by the best paths. And it''ll be harder to send men after him then.


    "Will you take us to meet these Furbearer friends of yours?"


    "Of course," said Tanith.


    So Tanith ended up leading a force of Paladins toward the ship. As she did, she began to wonder about Aras and Farwa.


    "So, how did you and Farwa fall in together?" asked Tanith, looking to Aras.


    "A long story involving a chance meeting in a moonlight glade and very rash decisions," said Aras with a laugh. "I wish I could say they were happier days, but things were getting much better until now. Much of my effort has been tasked with preventing the world from sliding back.


    "As it is for many greater adventurers.


    "But everything ends, and now we are nearing the coming of the Heir of Kings. Or so many say. Our lot is now to ensure that the realm is sustained until they take up their mantle."


    "I don''t believe in the Heir of Kings," said Tanith. "I never have.


    "A man who has won a great battle can easily establish himself as a King. Old prophecies are a useful tool to do it."


    "Then you don''t believe Relma Artorious is the one," said Aras.


    "She''s a politician," said Tanith, remembering her. "She wants to make herself King, so she pretends to be this wonderful wide-eyed messiah. And she manipulates people around her to make that possibility come closer.


    "But she doesn''t earn any of her victories for herself.


    "They were won by others, and everything goes her way. Anyone with a problem with not getting paid for months of work is the villain. Just think about what all the miracles used to prop up that manipulative bitch could have been used for?


    "Why does she get the same reward as William from Elranor? She had a wonderful hiking trip up a mountain while William went through hell.


    "You can''t be a leader unless you''re willing to get your hands dirty. And she is obsessed with keeping her hands clean."


    Silence.


    "A damning assessment," said Aras. "Which tempers the accounts I have already heard.


    "Thank you. I shall reserve judgment until I meet her myself. Tell me of your vendetta with Argath Marn?"


    "He created me," said Tanith. "Trained me into what I was and then expected me to be something else. But I didn''t break with him over that."


    "It was over the Heir of Kings?" asked Aras.


    "No, for money," said Tanith. "I got drawn down to work for Benarus in a war. I spent a lot of money going halfway across Antion. The journey was hell, and I had to go through Blackfear.


    "Then I arrive and got stuck doing knife tricks for enough money to eat.


    "And when the battle finally arrives, Benarus denies me my payment. He tries to give me half of it. So I took all my men, left him to rot, and killed two black dragons when they came to arrest me. If all Benarus wanted was to be safely humiliated, I decided he could do it without me.


    "He is better than Rius, but that isn''t saying much."


    "Let''s not speak of a Lord in his city," said Aras. "Instead, let''s drink and go about our tasks."


    Tanith walked back at night and got back to the pier. She was pleased to note that Kata had kept her guard up. The Furbearers were well-armed now and had many weapons taken from their bodies. They had formed a barricade with a narrow opening. Four guards always stood with spears, and Kata was waiting for her.


    From the looks of things, they''d been fishing corpses out of the water. Now, they had set aflame to them, and more were being piled on.


    "Tanith, what''s going on here?" asked Kata, looking concerned. "Who are..."


    "These are Paladins from Antion; you don''t have to worry," said Tanith. "You can trust them as much as anyone."


    "We''ve sworn an oath to protect the innocent and-" began Suran. Then he became aware that Farwa''s gaze was on him. "Obey the authority of our superiors."


    Aras chuckled, getting a disapproving look from Farwa.


    "Who are you?" asked Kata, looking stunned to see Farwa.


    "My name is Lady Farwa of Qor''Danas and the rest of my brethren," said Farwa. "This is Aras, a longtime friend, and Suras, one of my subordinates. Who might you be?"


    "Kata of the Furbearers. I am near to royalty, or as close as we have in our systems," said Kata, shifting. "Tanith saved us alongside William Gabriel. Though I would know why you are here?"


    "We''re waiting for for-"


    "Amenos," said Tanith, as Amenos appeared quite suddenly. "How do you do that trick with the shadows?"


    "Tanith Telus, you are here at last," said Amenos.


    "How long have you been there?" asked Suras, blinking.


    "Quite long," said Amenos. "William has been speeding things up with his healing a little more than anticipated. Now, everyone is racing to try and keep up. And whatever side William is on will see many recruits.


    "But I cannot find him. I would guess he has been delayed in a part of the city I can''t access. My brethren and I have had some knife work to do."


    "Amenos, please tell me you know what is going on and that you have a plan," said Tanith.


    "Actually, yes. And I intended to initiate it shortly," said Amenos. "Lady Farwa, may I ask what forces you have available?"


    "Several dozen knights, each with their retainers," said Farwa. "Most of them are present here. All in various places. I am in command, and they are as bold and strong men as you will ever find."


    "Then you and I should speak," said Amenos. "For now, it is integral that the slaver operations be curtailed. The Babarassians hold many of them as strongholds, owing to a long association. Aras... I know of you. Will you accompany us?"


    "I will," said Aras. "Thank you. Lady Kata, you and your advisors should join us."


    Tanith didn''t know whether Amenos knew who he was or just wanted his opinion. It hardly mattered. "Kata, if you don''t need me, I''ll stand guard here."


    Kata looked at the Furbearer from before. He nodded to her. What was his connection? "Thank you, Tanith. We will not need you for this."


    At that moment, Jehair got back. She looked tired and was as pretty as ever. Tanith remembered that she''d fulfilled all her contracts perfectly when they were together.


    "Tanith Telus, you look as you did before. No scars or signs of wear," said Jehair.


    Tanith smiled. "More''s the pity."


    Journeying with Jehair had been nice. Jehair was not by nature a judgmental person, and the two of them had gotten on well. In addition, Jehair was very easy on the eyes, and the hides she wore clung to her hourglass figure nicely. William could not be in better hands. Wait, he wouldn''t end up falling for her, was he?


    No.


    Jehair was too professional and would not want him anyway. William was fifteen. No competition there.


    "Suran, can you and your assigned men handle the slaver compound?" asked Farwa.


    "What?" said Suran. "Me? But shouldn''t I help in the main battle?"


    "I need someone I can trust to observe things. Give them whatever help they need," said Farwa.


    "But what if-" began Suran.


    "Be patient, Suran," said Farwa. "Stay with the Furbearers and defend them. Make sure they don''t become victims of this place.


    "You''re not as far down the road to your goal as you hope."


    Suran nodded.


    "Yes, milady," said Suran.


    "I will accompany them and ensure all is done as William commanded," said Jehair.


    "Just make sure you don''t drag him into any more crisis," said Tanith. "William has never found one he wanted to stay out of."


    "I shall do as I can," said Jehair with a smile.


    They moved off quickly. At least it would be good practice.


    "Farwa, we should speak of our resources," said Amenos.


    They went to one side while Farwa halted. Tanith looked at her thoughtfully. She really hoped they''d have a real bloodletting soon.

 Chapter 135 - Seven: The Cleansing

    William had to make a plan.


    However, before he did anything, he had to heal people. Some woman had been beaten to a pulp and wouldn''t say by whom. And there were children covered in bruises. A few people had broken fingers that had been crushed by thugs or had lost eyes to people they owed money to.


    It just went on and on and he hated it. Rusara, William realized, had filtered who had been treated. Now, as he treated anyone who came, he could only wonder what people did to one another. Jehair had operated in this place and had been doing so for decades. What did that do to a person?


    No wonder Jehair had such a low opinion of civilization. William wondered what the elf would think of his actions here.


    Either way, William decided not to ask how people got their injuries. He just healed them and moved on.


    A few times, he was asked to enter houses to help those who could not come to him. He came when asked and afterward went to speak to the guards.


    "Excuse me?" said William.


    "Yes, who are you?" asked the man, eyeing him carefully.


    "I''d like to talk to you," said William.


    "About what?" asked the man, seeing the armor.


    "I''m from a concerned Lord in Artarq," said William. "We''ve heard the news from our sources about economic problems. Men have been forced off their lands. Mercenaries have been without work, all while merchants buy out their lives. I''m looking for more information." He wished dearly for a bath but had no time for that.


    "Well, I don''t know about merchants," said the man, looking down the street. "Me, though? I was a soldier in the Calishan Wars and fought in the Battle of Desora under Duke Vanion and many others. I came back here and found my farm had been stolen, and my family had been beggars. I worked as a caravan guard for a bit, but that wasn''t good money.


    "Eventually, Hawkthorne started hiring people here from caravans as they came in."


    "Did he say why?" asked William. So, Hawkthorne''s actions were common knowledge.


    "Oh, we all figured it was some kind of takeover," said the man. "In our business, though, you don''t ask that question. These days, all I have to do is stand on a street corner and watch merchants do their work.


    "It''s much better for my family; my wife was sick of moving. And my sons might be able to inherit something when I do. But the Babarassians are a group I could do without."


    "And Hawkthorne, what do you think of him?" asked William.


    The man looked to the others and back. He was not Harlenorian; he was an elf and looked disreputable. He had dark hair and was clad in green. His ears were scarred, and his eyes were narrow.


    "You''re a noble, so I assume you either want in or want him gone. Who are you, and what do you want?"


    "I''m William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel," said William. "I was just passing through, only to find this place under heavy guard with many well-armed men. So I went to Lord Rius, and he told me a story of Reg Hawkthorne, who is, unfortunately, an ally, taking over his city.


    "And doing so in my name.


    "I think you can understand why I am concerned."


    "Well, I imagine that means there will be some fighting," said the man. "More than usual, anyway."


    "Probably yes, though I''d prefer to avoid it," said William. "I can''t ignore Lord Rius being locked in his own home. Believe me; I''d much rather be heading down to the Tournament of Kings as I''d planned.


    "So, at the moment, I''m trying to understand what''s going on here from all perspectives."


    The men looked doubtfully, then back. His men seemed uneasy, and William took that as a good sign. "Well, that is decent of you, milord, but we don''t have much choice. Many warriors in this place came here to join the Calishan Wars. But they didn''t get to Artarq before it ended.


    "There are at least a thousand and three hundred by our count, though that changes daily. Some find work and leave the city; others die from the plague.


    "Reg ordered us to try to keep track of their numbers."


    "Is there a third group?" asked William.


    "Alright, yes, there is a third group," said the man. "Some of the men here are not soldiers. When I see one, I know a professional soldier, and they aren''t it. They aren''t knights, either. Knights are all about honor and glory; soldiers have discipline and pride.


    "These, though, like hurting people, and they''re not from Harlenor. They''re a bunch of thugs and mostly hang out on the docks. They''ve tried to rob merchants several times and break up local businesses. We wanted to intervene, but Reg stopped us. I''d say they''re the most numerous, at least two thousand in number."


    "Are they close to Reg?" asked William.


    "No, Reg mostly spends his time drinking and gambling," said the man. "Most of his paperwork is done by a slavegirl, a very pretty Calishan girl who we have yet to catch the name of. She is a go-between for the merchants and people who need to talk to him. Now and then, you see her rushing up to him with some assignment or other and asking him to make a decision.


    "We''re pretty sure now that Reg is a front for someone.


    "The brutes seem to be on hand for some other reason. At first, they mostly just levied fines on merchants for ''protection.'' But more and more have been gathering among them. As well as some priests, most of whom hang out at the Healer''s Guild and make contracts there. A lot of them have been shipping out, taking vessels north to Haldren."


    "Has the loss of priests affected their prices?" asked William.


    "No," said the man. "The Healer''s Guild has a fixed price structure everyone must adhere to. Someone gives orders from on high, I guess. If you deviate from it, they kill you. A couple of local healers got forced into the guild. When they tried to give out some free healing on the side, they were found hanging from their doors."


    "Have you considered doing something about this?" asked William.


    The man bit his lip. "Well, there''s doing the right thing, and then there is doing the right thing. Our word is our bond, and we must honor it."


    "Was the contract with Reg''s handlers?" asked William.


    "No, just Reg," said the man. "Or so the word is. However, he has not been subtle."


    William decided to answer that with another question as a cart moved by behind him. "If Reg declared your contact fulfilled and went home, would you?"


    "Well..." asked the man. "We''d have to have a pretty good deal for that."


    William crossed his arms and shook his head with a sigh. "This contract is a deathtrap. Sooner or later, King Andoa will get word about what is happening. Do you think your forces here can withstand an entire army? Without the goodwill of the population. Reg will be killed, and so will you."


    "Why would he make a play like that if he didn''t have a plan?" asked a man.


    "Do you think it is his plan?" asked William.


    "Alright, so let''s say we''ll go along with this," said the man. "What''s your plan?"


    William wasn''t aware that he had become the scheming chessmaster. Given that he always lost at chess, this did not bode well. "Well, I intend to begin healing every person I can. Where can I find Reg?"


    "I don''t know," said the man. "But if you see a beautiful Calishan slavegirl in red, just follow her. Looks like a goddess. I''m Cacalan of Qor''Dana, but that was long ago."


    "Thank you," said William. "I had powerful companions. Whose side were you on?"


    "Well, I was with the Calishans who were to take Khasmir back," said Cacalan.


    "That was nasty business. We should never have let it get that far. The detestable practices of the satyrs opened the door to those monsters."


    "I''m sure they will have learned better defense henceforth," said William. "Some among them are great warriors with many virtues. Prince Kusher was a good friend and saved my life many times."


    "I''ll take your word for it, milord," said Calcalan.


    William shrugged and parted ways with Calcalan. When he found them, they could hardly move, so he gave them some rations. Few seemed to be going to the Healer''s Guild at all, so he spent his time looking for them. Occasionally, someone would ask him to come to heal someone in their home.


    The utter repetition of the task was miserable. He kept having to stop himself from asking what happened to a person. It wasn''t his business; he didn''t want to live with the knowledge. William did not know how these women and children got their bruises.


    He did not want to know!


    "William, Babarassians are here," said Felix.


    William looked up and, sure enough, saw them approaching. A man of perhaps twenty was at the head with a shorter beard. With him were others, and their clothes were better. However, several men with spears stepped before them, and their hands were set to weapons. "Stay where you are-"


    "Hold. Let them through," said William, not seeing much in the way of hatred. He moved forward. "How may I aid you?"


    That was how it went. He healed everyone who asked and many who did not. William became more aware of himself and realized how many people he had healed. He felt his shoulders shaking as he walked, thinking of them all. Reaching up to his cheek, he felt tears dripping down his cheeks.


    Why?


    Why was he crying?


    And then he saw her.


    She moved past him very suddenly with wide, swaying hips. She was clad only in a short, split red skirt on one side, held up by a sash. Her toned, tan midriff and long legs were bared. She wore a cloth top that showed off her supple arms and large breasts. Her hair was tied behind her head in a braid, and earrings were on either side of her head.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    There was something supernatural about her beauty, and people seemed to never be in her way. William immediately guessed that this was the woman the man had spoken of. He also realized his jaw had dropped. So he wiped the tears from his eyes. "Why is she dressed in such a way in public? It must be cold."


    "Follow her," said Felix.


    "I agree," said William. "That woman is a goddess, or I''m a fool."


    But following her proved a lot more difficult than William imagined. For one thing, she seemed to disappear into crowds. Each time, he''d find more people who needed healing that he had missed before. Then he''d see her again and pursue her again.


    As he began to catch up to her, more people in need came to him. It did not seem that she was slowing down or speeding up, merely elusive. Nor was there any real purpose.


    Yet, in the end, William came on her by chance, seeing her out of the corner of his eye. She was approaching an orange-haired man who was more than a little overweight. His eyes had a sullen look to them, and he was drinking. Babarassians were waiting near him, likely from Emile.


    "Master Hawkthorne, I''ve brought you something," said the woman.


    "And why are you doing it here?! I''m busy?" said Reg, looking suddenly angry.


    "I understand that, Master; however, I fear this cannot wait," said the woman. "If I were to delay in bringing it to you until you finished your revelry, I would be remiss in my duties." And she offered him a letter.


    "Let me see that," said Reg. He read through it. "This...


    "What the hell is this?"


    "I do not know, Master. I do not read your correspondence save when bidden," said the woman.


    "You don''t know much, do you?" snapped Reg. "Get a response written to Arkan, tell him-"


    "Master, not here," said the woman quickly.


    "Shut up!" said Reg before striking her across the face. "Fix this, now. You think I keep you around only for your neckline! Put some damn work in!"


    "Master, it may not be possible to do what you are asking," said the woman calmly. "We should not even be having this discussion here; if you return with me to the headquarters, we might-"


    "Do it!" said Reg.


    The woman nodded. "Yes, Master."


    "Worthless, ungrateful..." Reg paused. "Ah, to hell with it!" And he went back to drinking alone.


    William paused thoughtfully. "Rius is right on all accounts. Reg is a frontman." And so was Rius if something wasn''t done.


    "What makes you say that?" asked Felix with a laugh.


    "He was all drunk and confident until he got a letter. He didn''t have a problem with a slave going through his correspondence," said William. "As soon as he read the letter from Arkan, he became panicked and started shifting the blame on her.


    "That means he''s decadent and has no sense of personal responsibility. Nobody with those qualities could ever make it on their own."


    "You forget an important detail," said a voice next to William''s ear. He whirled around and found himself face-to-face with the slave girl. "He felt free to do this in the open, confident no one would stop him.


    "Why do you think that was?" Then she smiled. "I''m sorry, I cannot wait. Destiny waits for no man." And she passed him by.


    William decided she had to be monitored, especially since no one now paid her any heed.


    "Felix, go after her now. Do not let her out of your sight. She''s the one we have to keep an eye on. Meet up with me later."


    "As you wish," said Felix. "I''ll ask anyone I meet about your location."


    They broke off, and William hurried through the streets toward Jehair. As he did, he kept running into people who needed his help. Did this never end? The first time you healed a group of people, you felt a real sense of accomplishment. But you began to realize that no matter how many people you healed, someone would always be sick.


    So you just kept doing it, and it became ever more frustrating until it got easier. Even then, now and then, William felt the urge to look the other way. To not go down into an alley where someone was sick and heal them. But he knew if he passed the alley by, he''d never see them again.


    So he walked on. "All of you get somewhere safe quickly. I have reason to believe things may get nasty in the streets soon.


    "Those of you with nowhere else to go should go to the temples and ask for sanctuary. This is an emergency, and no time can be wasted on this matter. Go."


    "Thank you," said someone.


    William found Jehair, who seemed to have little interest as she sat on the steps. Her golden braids were falling down one side of her neck, over her ample breasts. Her scythe was at her feet, and her eyes were closed as if in meditation. Wondering what she was thinking, William halted.


    Then he noticed noticed a scarred, middle-aged man in the shadow. He walked toward him, wondering if he was sick. But the man from before stepped in front of him. "Hold up, please; this area is off-limits by order of the Paladin Order. I am Sir Suran."


    "I''m here on behalf of Lord Rius," said William, forgetting to introduce himself. "Now, please step aside. I am in haste."


    "And who are you?" asked Suran. "What''s so important?"


    "William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion, Paladin of Elranor. I''m a veteran of the Khasmir Campaign," said William. Who was this man to bar passage to an agent of a Lord in that Lord''s city? "Step aside; I have urgent business."


    "A lot of people fought in the Khasmir campaign," said Suran. "I''m not sure I can-"


    Jehair stood up and moved forward. "Hold on a moment, Suran; this is our ally. He is aligned with Amenos and Haldren. You need not fear him."


    Suran looked back and stepped aside. "Of course, Jehair."


    He stepped aside. William felt insulted and infuriated at having his path barred by a foreigner. He supposed his heart might be in the right place, but he wasn''t sure he trusted him.


    One didn''t trust a foreigner without sufficient proof.


    William looked at Felix and thought about how that attitude matched up with him. "Jehair, you''re here at last. I wasn''t expecting Paladins to be here."


    "Well, they were in the area, and Tanith Telus recruited them," said Jehair. "We''ve set off several plans early, and Kata has aligned herself with them."


    William looked to the other man, the one who was behind Suran. Could he have missed him? It didn''t matter. Moving forward, he kneeled and healed him. "Stand and be healed.


    "Are you a warrior?"


    "Yes, I fought in Khasmir and came back penniless. I got robbed," said the man with a bitter smile. "I''d complain further, but I don''t want to speak ill of the dead."


    "Well, I expect you could be of some service here," said William, drawing out a dagger. It was an expensive dagger, and he couldn''t easily replace it. "Take this. You''ll probably need something to defend yourself." Remembering that Khasmir was House Gabriel''s responsibility, he removed some silver coins. "And consider this belated payment for fighting the hordes of hell." S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Why had he given that dagger? And what good would the money do him? There weren''t enough coins in the world to feed the hungry.


    "Thank you," said the man. I''ll remember this. I''m Uther of Walesan, and I''m not from around here." William looked at him momentarily and saw that he was large, had an unkempt beard, and had graying hair. His eyes were desperate but had a kind of strange wisdom to them.


    "I need you to remember to get to the temple of Elranor," said William. And get anyone who doesn''t have a place to stay or hide there. Things could worsen, and someone might decide to loot the place in the fighting.


    "Though I don''t think it''ll come to that."


    "Right," said the man, and he hurried off. "I''ll see if I can get some of these children off the streets at least. Maybe seek some holy orders.


    "This land needs priests. Just like mine."


    William looked back to Suran, and another Paladin, clad in shining armor, was giving him an odd look. It was vaguely accusing, almost. One was far older than Suran, and one had a black beard. "You''re using your powers as a tool for your advancement," one said disgustingly.


    "And you are?" asked William as he healed another veteran.


    "I am Gavkin," said the man. "I am a Paladin of Bretus here to assist in this crisis on behalf of my friend Dunmoore. Such womanly displays of false compassion ill befit a man of noble birth."


    "Then I won''t keep you from your duties," said William as he healed another Bretusian in the gutter. He had no desire for a confrontation. "Let us each leave a man to their custom.


    "For we are both Paladins of Elranor and have been chosen to serve in different ways."


    "I will," said Gavkin before unslinging a hammer and moving off. As he did, he healed a beggar in a motion of rage as if the act was humiliating. Perhaps he thought of it as much. William had to admit he understood where he was coming from. If he''d been called in from another world and had to do this¡­


    Well, it would not have left him in a good mood.


    "Don''t hold it against him," said Suran. "Gavkin is a veteran of many wars. Things have put him under a lot of stress."


    "I don''t hold it against him," said William. "Everyone has been under stress. Jehair, what have you found?"


    "Well, all this seems the usual sort of civilized barbarity one ought to expect," said Jehair. "I''ve had a little better luck. Behind us is the slaver''s enclave, where their cargo is stored and ready for shipment. However, I have spoken to those who live near it. It seems that many of those who enter this place do not return.


    "At present, the doors are barricaded and locked. There was a lookout, but he went inside with a delegation. Several Babarassian leaders seemed to have fallen out, and some were left in a huff. A few ships had already left. They released their slaves before they did without causing the crisis. Others have taken the slaves with them.


    "Still more are making last-second sales."


    "Why would people who enter this place not return?" asked William.


    "There are several possible reasons," said Jehair. Priestesses of Zigildrazia have been much more common since the fall of Zigilus. They often practice child sacrifice. One which fuels their priests'' spells in stone circles within the woods. But that''s illegal, and they''ve been hunted for it, so a secretive source of sacrifices would be logical.


    "However, I suspect some of them are far darker than others. Do you not sense it, child?"


    William paused, looked up, and focused on what he felt. As he did, he realized there was a kind of darkness around here. It had not been visible on the surface, with the press and the pain of the diseases. But with many cured, William could now perceive the miserable horror within the place.


    "A blackness," said William. "Something is going on in there."


    "Do you plan to storm the place single-handed?" asked Jehair.


    "No," said William ." But whatever is happening here is likely connected to the other events. Jehair, I want you to stay here and ensure no one gets out of that place."


    "And where are you going?" asked Jehair, raising an eyebrow.


    "To work miracles and punish the unrighteous," said William. "The Healer''s Guild is the main concern."


    Suran paused. "So you''re going by yourself?


    "Let me accompany you. You might need help."


    "That won''t be necessary," said William, wondering when they had become friends. A moment ago, Suran had been hostile to him. Had he misinterpreted William''s behavior?


    Did it have something to do with Uther? Suran had barred his way but hadn''t seemed aware of the man. Perhaps some racial contempt for Walesans?


    "If you want to be of service, you can take Jehair''s place," said William. "I don''t think we''ll need four people to keep the place contained. As long as they don''t get the slaves out of this place, we can free them later."


    "Do as he asks, Suran," said Jehair, standing up. "I''ve someone to look out for. Besides, I am quite an accomplished healer myself."


    "Then why didn''t you heal anyone before?" asked Suran.


    "I''m neutral in the affairs of mortals," said Jehair as though she were a god. "Save insofar as my obligations require me to intervene, of course. My dominion is nature. Reducing the surplus population would solve more problems than it would cause."


    William laughed despite himself. "Well, at least you''re honest about it."


    At that moment, Tanith came by, and with her was a large force of Furbearers. They held spears, and Kata was at her head. She was wearing a Babarassian scimitar at her side, though it looked strange on her. Tanith brushed aside a strand of hair and hugged him.


    Ow.


    She was wearing armor, and it slammed into his ribs. She broke the embrace.


    "Will!" said Tanith.


    "Oh, Tanith," said William. "Why are you in such a good mood?"


    "I dunno, just feeling welcome," said Tanith.


    "I finally found you," said Kata. "And you''re here too, Jehair."


    "Kata, is all well?" asked Jehair.


    "Amenos and Farwa asked us to reinforce this place," said Kata. "They want us to assault it once some more men get here.


    "They''re afraid the slavers might be able to get their cargo out some other way. Or worse, execute them."


    "Well, don''t take it lightly," said William. "Most merchants go armed, and these men live in terror of their cargo. You''d better do it right away. Demand that they open the door, and give them time.


    "Give them ten seconds, and if they don''t open up, kick the door down and subdue everyone inside. You''ll have to be prepared to kill."


    "Is it necessary to slay these people," said Suran. "Couldn''t there be a better way?"


    "People who speak about their virtues usually don''t have many," noted Jehair. "Who would you have commanded us, William?"


    "You are in command, Princess Kata," said William. "If you intend to clear the door, I recommend the Paladins take the front while your people bring up the rear. You don''t have the same armor, and they have more experience and training."


    Then he looked to the others. "Tanith, Jehair, let''s go."


    Tanith pattered Suren on the back. "...It was nice seeing you again, Suran.


    "Keep up the good work."


    "Thank you," said Suran, not responding at all to the barb. "Sorry if I caused any trouble."


    William halted. "It is of no concern."


    Wonderful, yet more busy work.

 Chapter 136 - Eight: Breaking the Guild

    The odd thing was that nobody noticed what was going on here.


    Some people were getting off the streets, and the Babarassians were pulling out. Amenos'' people and the militia were organizing. Word came from Aras that the Babarassians were mobilizing.


    "So there''s going to be a real fight soon, I guess," surmised Tanith.


    "It seems less likely now," said William, healing a broken arm.


    Jehair, Amenos, and many others had been covertly speaking to many of them. According to them, quite a few companies had declared for Aras already. William loved to believe this was ideological. But he suspected it had something to do with many who still needed to pay their agreed-upon wages.


    "A shame; I like killing priests," said Tanith.


    William looked at her, wondering what had happened to her to make her like this. She''d never been the same since entering the Calishan Wars. Before, she''d been enthusiastic and energetic, but never this.


    "The bad ones, obviously," said Tanith. "Priestesses of Baltoth regularly oversee crucifixions. Some of them were men whom the guards had captured.


    "They died slowly, so she deserved what she got. Though killing some of the priests of Elranor would be nice too, they shame their order."


    "We are not discussing this," said William.


    On they went.


    As they did, William saw a three-story building rising high. Then he saw a child scaling the walls as he and Felix had done back in Carn Gable. A smile came to his face as he remembered scaling cliffs and many others. Of course, the boy was taking a risk by climbing the walls.


    But without risk, you could gain nothing.


    Even so, William was surprised at how good he was at this. Of course, he''d observed such negotiations, but always in a controlled situation. Yet now, he found he had a knack for it.


    At last, they came to one of the Healer''s Guilds outposts and saw it there.


    At the doors were several heavy-set men in heavy mail with metal helms. In their hands were spears crossed before the doors. A priest could be seen, but he was healing no one and was sitting at a desk, writing about his finances with a smile. Another was counting out some gold from someone who had been able to pay for treatment. Like many others, the sick and injured were disregarded for no real reason.


    "Get back, all of you!" said the guards. "Only those who pay can enter."


    "But we were told the healers guild was healing people freely!" said a person.


    "You heard wrong!" said the guard. "Nothing is free; now, get away from the door unless you have money!"


    "Enough of that," said the first priest, shutting his book. "There is more than one kind of payment." And he drew out another book. "Each of you will write your name into this book. You will all owe Coinfurth a service in exchange for healing."


    "Set down my name!" roared Tanith, drawing both blades. "And know that my service would be removing the blight you place on his name!" The crowds parted, and Tanith went for the guards.


    "Don''t kill them," said William as he began healing people.


    He should have started earlier, but he''d thought there might be useful information. Meanwhile, Tanith dueled both guards by herself, and they were quite good. Jehair also began healing people, though it seemed to have a different kind of power. There wasn''t any light in what she did, though that didn''t describe it. Nor did she lay hands on them or speak any words.


    It was as if she were looking busy.


    Either way, William soon had healed everyone in the crowd, pausing only to say a word as he moved on to the next. By this time, Tanith had thrown down the guards and had a blade to the priest''s throats.


    "You can''t do this!" said the priest. "I am of the Healer''s Guild!"


    "You are under arrest in the name of Lord Rius," said William. Then he looked at where several members of the militia were standing. "Take these men to Lord Rius immediately; inform him I sent them."


    "Right," said the man.


    "Who are you?" asked a woman.


    "I am William Gabriel," said William as he healed the last person. "How are there so many sick people here?"


    "This is a major port of trade," said Jehair. "And the Healer''s Guild has shut everyone else down with thugs." She looked to a plagued garment thrown by the wayside, and her eyes fixed on it. A look of distress went across her face.


    "Are you alright?" asked William, wondering why it distressed her.


    "Nothing," said Jehair. "It''s just a bad memory."


    "There were only two priests here," said Felix. "Where are the rest?"


    "There are other operations," said Jehair. "I''m surprised no one has tried to stop us; there does not seem to be any communication here. These operations must be very poorly organized. Worse than I thought.


    "And that is to our benefit."


    "All of you," said William. "You are healed, but there are others who have not been. Go far and wide and get anyone who needs healing here. Tell them where I am if they can walk, and carry them if you must. Those among you who know fighting men of good character, I will need your help."


    And they did leave. William became sicker and sicker in healing people by the moment. He''d never faced this kind of onslaught, and continuing to do it bothered him. What had the Bishop of Ascorn been doing?


    "Tanith, Jehair, stand guard," said William. "See if you can get any men who come to our side to help. And someone gets word to Amenos of what is going on here."


    "You realize the Healer''s Guild is going to send everything they have at us," said Tanith.


    "That''s exactly what I want them to do," said Aras, coming by with the troops. "They seem to have not realized the full extent of what is happening here. They are uneasy but realize how much things have turned against them.


    "They''ll hear what I am doing and may assume they can shut it down quickly. Our enemy is complacent."


    But there was no time for any of them. Soon, he found himself in a repeat of the incident outside Rius'' house.


    "Where are they all coming from?" said William.


    "News of your efforts spread during the night into the countryside," said Aras. "People have been filtering into the city all this time to try and be healed. The Healer''s Guild is not a problem unique to Ascorn."


    That was when Lilas arrived, hurrying. He was mopping his brow with a handkerchief and looked worried.


    "Sir Gabriel," said Lilas. "I''ve come to meet you.


    "You should leave the city now. The Healer''s Guild has summoned its professional enforcers. I''m afraid you won''t be able to defeat them with a sword."


    "I appreciate the warning," said William, wondering why he was giving it. "However, I have no intention of abandoning my quest. You had best move somewhere safe before you are missed."


    "Thank you," said Lilas, looking unsteady. "But you are being very unwise."


    "If they intend to come this way, they''ll have to go through me," said Cassian. "I''ll repay my debt now."


    "As will I," said Uther, coming forward. He had the knife from before. "The Healer''s Guilds are cowards. They won''t dare start a fight if they think they can lose."


    "I thought you''d gone to the temple, Uther," said William.


    "No, lad," said Uther. "I tried to get the people to safety. But the Bishop of Ascorn, Joffrey, threw a fit. He had us thrown out by armed men for dirtying up his floor and even threatened to sell us for slaves.


    "I claimed sanctuary, and he said he''d kill me if I didn''t leave."


    "He''s right," said a child. "I was there."


    "This I can confirm," said Lilas. "Few things upset the church than having to attend to its responsibilities. I must go and report to Lord Rius." And he hurried off.


    "Slime," said Cassian.


    "Don''t judge him too harshly," said William. "He is only doing his job."


    "I meant Joffrey," said Cassian. "He paid me to shoot you."


    "What?!" said Aras.


    Silence.


    "Why?" asked William.


    "Joffrey makes a lot of money from the Healer''s Guild," said Cassian. "He has hired me before to kill off troublesome healers. You have to eat."


    "We''ll discuss the matter another time," said William. "You and Uther will keep the order as I heal. Again.


    "Felix will coordinate matters. Aras... can you help me?"


    "I''ll see if I can arrange some security," said Aras. "Be safe."


    And he headed off quickly.


    It was a warning.


    They came in greater numbers than William expected, and he guessed it was their full force. There were nearly fifty men armed with cudgels and knives, and the Bishop of Ascorn was at their head. His clothing was pure white, with embroidered gold and a tall hat. In his hand was a staff topped with gold and a white gem, but the expression on his face could not be considered fitting. He looked enraged.


    Also with them was a large contingent of armored men with spears and mail. Their armor was concealing, and they bore the emblem of House Rius, an open hand on a black background. With them was Gavkin, looking quite serious and melancholy. There were also many priests carrying clubs.


    Abruptly, he halted as he saw William. He and his men sneered noticeably at him, and he raised a hand.


    Then he saw almost a hundred rough and ready men looking at him in cold-blooded hatred. Some of them had been thrown out before and now had knives. There were Bretusians, Harlenorians, and even a few Babarassians.


    William healed the person he was working on and met him. William expected the Bishop would have had good odds if there had been serious fighting. But the men here had come to put down a vastly outnumbered Paladin. Not a determined and vengeful mob.


    As a result, a few of the thugs made a run for it. Then, a few more, all of them realized their numbers were dwindling. So soon, virtually all of them had sprinted away, except for the armored men. They sought to withdraw, but before they could, a line of men in shining mail blocked their path. Dust Elves appeared on the rooftops, pointing bows down.


    Silence reigned.


    But Joffrey looked almost demonic, and William wondered if he was possessed. "Traitors!


    "Kill them all!"


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    No one moved.


    "Bishop," said Gavkin. "We were not granted to you by Lord Rius for that purpose. And even if you did give that command, we would ignore it. We''ve got archers above us and nearly a hundred armed men."


    What was going on here?


    It was as though the man was trying to make the church as repulsive as possible. This couldn''t be real.


    William heard laughter from some at the priest. "Silence! All of you be silent; let him speak."


    The laughter shut down. This man looked thirty but not thirty. There was a kind of agelessness to him, and his eyes were wrong. Empty and unbefitting his petulant expression.


    "What is this?" asked Joffrey.


    "I saw many people in need, and I helped them. Didn''t you?" asked William, surprised.


    Dead silence.


    Joffrey halted and seemed to shake off something, and he seemed almost human for a moment. "William Gabriel, I am Bishop Joffrey, the High Priest''s representative in this city. And you are under arrest."


    "For?" asked William.


    "You''ve broken the laws put in place by Lord Rius and healed without a license," said Joffrey quite calmly as if he expected William to forget his earlier orders. "You''ve also sabotaged the operation of legal businesses. You''ve interfered with Ascorn''s profitability. In so doing, you have disrupted the grain supply and threatened starvation."


    Cries of anger, but Aras raised a hand to silence them.


    "First of all," said William. "There was no grain supply when I arrived. It either hasn''t arrived or doesn''t exist. I saw only one or two instances of grain, which was by a former financier of King Gavin.


    "I expect you haven''t made any shipments in weeks. Second, there is almost always a backlog in ports for in-demand materials. Thirdly, you give me too much credit; this would have happened sooner or later to anyone. And thirdly, your orders mean nothing.


    "I am a noble and cannot be placed under arrest by you."


    "The order doesn''t come from me," said Joffrey, looking oddly professional. "It is from Lord Rius himself. He signed it earlier today." And he raised. It was as if two men had existed in the same flesh, and one had walked out to leave the other.


    William moved forward, grasped the contract, and came back to read over it. It all seemed perfectly legal, based on what he knew of Antion. "You realize my Father vastly outranks Lord Rius, don''t you?


    "Even if he did seize me, Raynald De Chevlon would descend on this city with an army." He sighed. "Tanith, can you take this many?"


    "Yes," said Tanith. "More''s the pity; I won''t get the chance." She looked up at the archers.


    "These are Lord Rius'' guard," said the priest.


    "What of it?" asked William. "Are you willing to fight us?"


    "If you do not submit to the city''s judgment, you are no friend of Rius!" said Joffrey.


    The basic problem was that Rius and his merchant friends were wrong.


    They were wrong about the threat posed to them by the plague, about the lack of consequences for their actions, and about how the balance of power worked in this city.


    Most importantly, they were wrong about William. Did they seriously think he''d allow himself to be arrested as if he were some wide-eyed idiot?


    "You can get anyone''s signature at knifepoint when they are defenseless," said Uther. "Who held the blade? You''re fine friends who went to visit him last night?"


    "They might," said Cassian. "Many of them are former clients. I''ve done much worse for them, and they don''t care about anything but money."


    Cries of anger from the moment.


    "Silence," said Aras, drawing his sword. It was a magnificent blade and glittered like ice. "No mob will lay a hand on those under the protection of parley!"


    Parley then. So, this was now a battleground. Father wouldn''t want that.


    "As for a legal business, I have doubts about that," said William. "But even if both were true, we need to hear no lectures from you. I am of noble blood and an emissary of Elranor himself. You have no authority to arrest or judge me. And Lord Rius, if I must be plain, is not as accomplished as my Father."


    "But, for the sake of the law, I shall submit." Joffrey halted at those words, looking more human by the moment. "We all shall.


    "You may arrest all of us. We shall accompany you to the house of Lord Rius. Since you cannot carry all our weapons, we will keep them until ordered. It is the right of defeated men under parley."


    Silence. If they came before the palace with such force, Rius would immediately cave to Aras.


    "...It would not be fitting to take so many armed men before him," said Joffrey, looking back.


    "Then I cannot surrender to you," said William. "Please come back with a larger army."


    Laughter, but William did not feel it.


    "Traitors," said Joffrey, voice becoming like the monster from before. "Return at once. Return and plan our response. Our reply will come soon."


    He turned to walk away, but an old woman crossed his path behind her. Joffrey pointed to one of his men. "Execute her at once! She''s barred the path of a priest!"


    And before anyone could move, a soldier stabbed her in the throat. William moved forward to heal her, and the mob surged. But Tanith drew her swords.


    "Hold where you are! No man will attack them without an order!" said Tanith.


    And Uther and Cassian stood with her.


    William rushed to her and found her already dying. As he kneeled by her, the light of her eyes dimmed. His hand touched her too late, and he heard laughter. A low chuckle came from the armored guards.


    Gavkin looked around in wariness. "...Joffrey, that wasn''t necessary."


    "That peasant cut me off in traffic," said Joffrey with an unnatural caricature of a smile. "I decided I wanted her dead." He seemed to think he had won great victory, and the guards looked uneasily at one another. The other priests around him looked uneasy, and his eyes...


    They were dead.


    It was as if the souls had vanished from them. Just as the souls seemed to be gone from the guards'' eyes, who were they? What horrible thing had been undertaken to make this happen?


    Gavkin looked at them and fled, and some guards went with him as though rousing from some dark sleep. But the others laughed louder; they weren''t laughing, and their mouths weren''t moving. Several people threw themselves down and screamed as Joffrey smiled wider.


    "Then that is the standard you will be judged by," said William.


    His voice was not his own.


    There was an authority in it. But the priest smiled and walked past him with his men following reluctantly. "Come, let''s leave the peasants to their rutting."


    Some priests looked at Joffrey in horror and fled from his side to where the others were. Yet most of them laughed at it, fingered gold necklaces, and praised Joffrey as they walked off. William could not hear the voices or make out the words, but they hurt to listen to.


    William stood up. Something unholy was in this city or on this land. This was not mere corruption. Turning, he saw the priests before him.


    "Forgive us, Lord Elranor," said a priest.


    "If you seek forgiveness, ask it by taking up your left duties," said William. "Put yourself at the service of Lady Farwa. Help her with whatever she needs.


    "And give the dead a burial."


    "I say we kill the Bishop and his cronies," said Cassian.


    "Vengeance isn''t going to do this city any good," said Uther. "His like always come to a bad end. We just have to contain the rot until they burn themselves out."


    "Well spoken," said Aras, leaping down from the roof. "Let there be funeral rites. And more healing, since there is no end to the need."


    So it went.


    The woman had been named Kala. She had no family; apparently, she had been a beggar who lost her sons to plague. Her husband to war, and her parents to starvation. Her line ended with her being murdered by the priest responsible for it all. Joffrey had not done his job, so her sons died of plague.


    Ham Hawkthorne had known all this, for he had given her a silver piece and gotten directions to a bar. He had drunk himself into a stupor and wandered the streets while beating muggers up. Vaguely interested in the prospect of a fight, Ham had rounded the corner unseen.


    He had seen the woman and thought he might thank her for direction. Then Joffrey''s men slashed her throat, and she fell, dying to the ground. Ham had watched as the old woman fell to the ground, unknown and unnoticed. So, watching, he thought he could heal her.


    But he was not a healer.


    She hadn''t even been seeking vengeance. The priest had killed her for cutting him off in the street. Then, without even knowing who she was, he''d murdered her because it was the nastiest thing he could do.


    Or was it to hurt Elranor?


    William wondered what her name had been. But it didn''t matter anymore.


    But to Ham, it did matter.


    That smug bastard, the priest, walked off laughing after taking everything from her. Ham would pay him out for this, the self-righteous bastard; he''d pay all these corrupt priests out. Just as soon as he''d had enough alcohol to drown the pain.


    So he wandered off, but he remembered his promise.*


    "Well," said Aras. "The gauntlet is thrown now. Some darkness is moving about here.


    "Something that I''ve sensed before but never been aware of. This bears further investigation; I must speak with Farwa and pray. All of you should pray as well."


    "Tanith," said William. "What would you recommend?"


    "If I were you," said Tanith. "I''d say finish up here and leave the city unseen, which is impossible at this stage. So, failing that, kill every single one of their men, then kill them."


    "...Who is them?" asked William, unsure who she was talking about.


    "I''m working on a list at the moment," said Felix, coming out of the shadows and writing some notes. "I thought you might want to know; I got another offer to betray and murder you. They''ve been coming in with increasingly grandiose offers."


    "Another?" asked William, continuing to heal. "This has happened before?"


    "I turned them down," said Felix, blinking. "Why do I have to inform you whenever someone tries to bribe me?"


    "This has happened before?" asked William. "Why don''t I know about it?" It was unreal how quickly it had almost forgotten the shadow he had seen in the priest. William wondered if it had been real, so he quickly wrote it down in his book.


    "I usually discuss it with Duke Vanion," said Felix. "I assumed you knew." S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What was the promised price?" asked William, finding it surreal.


    "Does it matter?" asked Felix. "How much of a price would you put on your integrity?"


    "I see," said William. The bodies were burned in a pyre while the priests said last right. William wished he could mourn them. "Give me their names."


    "I have a list right here," said Felix.


    "Is this the sort of public discussion we ought to have?" asked Jehair.


    "It concerns them," said William to the people. "I might have to destroy some of these people. That affects their lives." William halted his healing, took it, and read over it. Then he folded it up and put it away.


    For his part, William went into the building and began checking for financial records. Finding the books on a desk, he put them into his pack.


    "Anything else?" asked William, healing more.


    "Well, I have a report," said Felix. "That slave girl you sent me after has some very extensive records she minds on behalf of Reg. She sits in the office like she owns the place, though the guards sneer at her.


    "I took several notable pieces.


    "Including these;" He offered a letter.


    William read it.


    "Reg,


    "What possessed you to allow Dust Elves to enter the city? Now Rusara has agents out here and may spread discord among your men. You had best do more to ensure they are made properly loyal.


    "I have given you a city to do with as you will. If you endanger our operations, I will not deliver you. That port must be maintained if the shipments are to be made to other lands. I will not be providing you with the troops you have requested. My operatives are busy on the King''s Road leading up from Gel Carn.


    "You have a debt.


    "I expect repayment in one kind or another. I hope you understand what I mean, for your sake.


    "-Dinis."


    "Dinis?" asked William. "That far away empire? Across the islands of power?"


    "I do not think anyone would dare use that name in that Empire," said Jehair. The Emperor may, but he does not affix his seal lightly, let alone for something like this.


    "No, Dinis stands for Neral Dinis.


    "So it seems," said William. "What about the guards?"


    "They were Emile''s Babarassians," said Felix. "They let me right in as promised. He had a great deal of pull with them. All of them released their slaves, though I think they had already sold most of them to the compound.


    He mentioned other fleets of Babarassians. Either way, I expect they will give us Reg."


    "They have been very cooperative," noted William.


    "They''ve made money here," noted Felix. "And they''ve probably gotten the sense this place could be more stable. Getting out is smart, and assisting you helps prevent a Crusade from coming after them later.


    "It''s all very pragmatic.


    "But, we''ll have to fight some of them."


    William looked at another letter.


    "To the esteemed and newly established Lord Reg,


    "While I rejoice in your good fortune and success against all foes. However, you have put yourself in an inconvenient position. The sudden ascension to power you have arranged for yourself has disrupted my plans.


    "It is also, technically, treason.


    "I would be very interested in knowing what made you think you could get away with this stunt. My agent shall be along shortly to discuss matters. If Lord Rius has been harmed in any way, our discussion shall be much less pleasant.


    "-Arkan Lantan."


    A pause.


    "I''ll give Reg credit," mused William. "He did think of setting up countermeasures by bringing in the Babarassians. That makes removing him harder. But it''ll also make more people want him dead at the end of this."


    "What are you talking about?" asked Jehair. "Tavish set that up. He presented the option to Reg, and Reg took it without question."


    "Reg was a dead man by the time we arrived," said Tanith. "Even if his side wins, they''ll probably rub him out to tie up loose ends. And if the conflict escalates, he''ll be the first one dead. He''s the perfect scapegoat."


    "Either way," said William. "We''ll have to try and save him. It is time we got to work.


    "Tanith, go meet up with Kata and take some men to reinforce her. I want you to assist the militia however we can.


    "Jehair, you and I will go to Reg''s headquarters. He is now the only man who can stop what we have done. So he must be taken out of play quickly. Felix, go immediately to Lord Rius and tell him that victory is at hand.


    "Let''s go."


    Reports came in of other Healer''s Guild operations being taken. There were guards killed, and the priests held hostage. One after another, it seemed the Guild needed to prepare. All of it had happened too quickly, and their muscle was now against them. The battle had begun, a battle William neither desired nor sought.


    But it would have to be fought in one way or another.


    Would this never end?


    And what was that shadow William had seen in the bishop''s face? How had it taken hold of the priests?


    *This passage is not of my writing. During my time in the Tournament of Kings, Varsus, Reginald, and Ham provided me with accounts. These have been interspersed where appropriate so that proper credit should be given.


    My initial meeting with Ham seems to have been at the darkest point of his life. I wish I had been kinder to him. Especially since he was the part, it would have been best to have acted.

 Chapter 137 - Nine: Battle in the City

    William was tired.


    He felt like he had been on his feet for a year, and it was only the second day. Kata and some other people had taken a bit of time to clean up the streets, and it was safer now. Aras and Farwa were fighting a string of battles to gain victory.


    William got stuck healing people as usual.


    All the more because there was almost no resistance. Now and then, he saw signs of scrapes, but they only lasted a minute. And soon, the militia was all over the place as he worked his healing magic and moved to meet Reg Hawkthorne.


    It would have been very tense if he had come here before his adventures in Khasmir. But as things stood, it wasn''t much more than a mediocre extension of that. Only here, the enemy was all but beaten. It was more like healing after a battle; only the idiots in charge hadn''t put the wounded in neat rows. And he was constantly being waylaid to heal even more people.


    He always felt obligated to do it, and then some more, and he made comforting words he did not feel at all.


    It did not seem this trip to Antion would be very interesting. It had all been so mind-numbingly boring so far. William had expected to be walking through the green fields in the city beyond by now. But Jehair seemed to think it best to walk in the woods to be eaten alive by insects.


    Walking through the empty streets. William saw that now that the people were gone. Indeed, the street was still filthy. People had worked at this one repeatedly to try and wash off some of the grime, but only the first layer had come off.


    Looking at Jehair, William wondered why none of this interested her.


    "How long must we wander this place like witless cattle?" asked Jehair. "Other greater events may be to the east." He didn''t blame her.


    "Jehair, may I ask something of you?" asked William.


    "Of course," said Jehair quickly.


    "Who is your god?" William asked. "Is it Laevian or some other natural spirit?


    Jehair smiled at him, and there was a sad tinge to it. "You do not know her, but she has known you for some time."


    "Really?" asked William.


    "You burned a field of her flowers in Seathorius," said Jehair. "She is the Flower Maiden."


    William considered whether this might make traveling with Jehair more dangerous. She was likely preferable company to some in this port, at least. "It was trying to devour my companions."


    "Of course, it was," laughed Jehair. Why was she laughing at that? She did not seem to regard those dying as worthy of pity. "The Flower Maiden holds no grudge against you for it. It was what drew her attention to you. All creatures desire to survive."


    "And who is she?" asked William.


    "She dwells within the Ghost Mountains, in the Road of Ancient Stone," said Jehair. She now seemed more herself. "Yet her power stretches far across the land. She bears much of the life that ensures Antion remains perpetually fertile."


    "A subordinate of Laevian then?" surmised William.


    "In some form," said Jehair. "Though she is not of Laevian. She was brought into existence to fill the hole left by the Incarnation of the Land. Yet she is not like him; she is one with nature and feels all the earth''s and sky''s pains.


    "Those pains have increased a great deal of late.


    "I am bound to her as is this land.


    "But it is not worship exactly. We should focus on the matter at hand."


    William had gotten the location of Reg''s main area of operations from Emile. Moving to it, he found it was a large, two-story mansion, much larger than Lord Rius''. At the gates were many Babarassians who were standing guard. All while others were some ways off near a side door.


    "So, you''re here then. Good," said Emile, standing up. "I was afraid we would come under attack. No one has any idea who the sides are or what. And this is only after my people are leaving.


    "If we''d still been there, this city would probably be in flames."


    "You''d have burned it?" asked William.


    "No," said Emile. "But our opponents were united by hatred of us. Removing us has thrown them into disorder. Tavish created the balance of power to keep us in check.


    "I had taken it for a precaution.


    "I see now we were set up. All the gates are sealed, and the Paladin and Dust Elves have seized every messenger."


    "Is Reg within?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Emile. "I told him we are here for his protection. That is more or less true. More than a few gangs of thugs have come by with spears. And several groups of citizens came with torches.


    "If we had not doubled his guard, I think he would be dead."


    "And his slave girl?" asked William.


    "What of her?" asked Emile. "She is within."


    "I suspect she is far more than she appears," said William. "Reg does not strike me as one who could have kept even this situation in hand. It may be that someone beneath notice did all his decisions."


    "Well, it is a Harlenorian problem now," said Emile. "I am going back to the colonies with my men."


    "You don''t seem too upset," said William.


    "Babarassians do not make permanent dwellings," said Emile. "Our colonies are designed to enforce our rule of the locals. We do not mingle much.


    "A few colonies have grown much larger in the Islands of Power. But most are simply trade posts. Although I admit, the ones we set up on Haldren must be well guarded."


    "Then why do you leave at all?" asked William.


    "A person needs new experiences to wish," said Emile. "What you desire is formed from what you do abroad. Drawing new things into Babarassia is necessary for the realm of Jazra to fade.


    "War, terror, pain, and suffering are how one grows. But enough.


    "We must get to our ships. Farewell. And mind the side door.


    William nodded as he left. "Felix, go to the side entrance and find out if anyone is going out there. Jehair, you are with me."


    Jehair adjusted her scythe as William came to the door. It was a large, square, red one that was distinct near the white walls. Here, William opted to knock politely. He waited a moment and heard hurried footsteps ascending a flight of stairs. So William shrugged, drew his sword, and spoke. "Open in the name of Antion!"


    Then he smote the door. It cracked and bent on the hinges. Then another blow shattered it as William moved into the main hall. He saw a reasonably humble place with no needless gaudy showings of wealth. There were one or two candlesticks of silver, but it looked humble.


    A maid was a little way off, working content while humming to herself. So William guessed that Reg was only abusive in public. Why?


    However, she turned and blinked. William saw a staircase leading up to one side, and he saw an open door ahead of him. Moving along it, he was pleased to hear someone being grabbed.


    "Jehair, after him," said William. "Give Felix any help he needs."


    "Why did you break that door?" asked the woman. "Master Lilas had it carved in Qor''Dana."


    "You didn''t open it," said William. "How much does it cost?"


    "I wouldn''t know," said the woman. "I''m just paid to clean up until Reg gets overthrown. Everyone knows it will happen sooner or later though Farah is nice. A pity she''s probably dead."


    What was wrong with everyone in this city?


    William hurried up the stairs, which were very nice wood-paneled ones, turning upward. Beyond, he found himself in a hall. One of the doors was partially open, letting a bit of daylight in. Moving to it, he saw an office with bookcases that were practically spilling. A tinged window was looking out over the street, very wide indeed. And there was Farah on the ground in a puddle of blood. She had several cuts on her, and the side of her top had come off her shoulder. Her throat was cut, and she was gargling.


    William kneeled and healed the injuries. He''d healed many bruises in his time, most of which were nasty and vicious. Injuries were not neat and often gave you aches and pains to last a lifetime. His body had several scars, most notably over his eye. So he kneeled and healed her anyway before helping her up.


    There was no sense in showing his hand. "Are you alright, Farah?"


    "Yes, I am, Master," said the slave girl. "And I am Farah, yes."


    "I am not your Master or your owner," said William, hearing sounds of a struggle. "And seeing as one who was both has left you for dead, I imagine you belong to no one."


    "I wonder if he would see it that way," said Farah.


    "Whether he does or not, I am here, and he is not. So why would he try to kill you?" asked William, leading her from the room.


    "I kno a lot," said the girl. "I think he fears my testimony. He tried to burn his finance books and demanded I get them. But, well, I tried to convince him he should give you everything and hope for mercy.


    "He didn''t take that well." A slightly haunted look was in her eyes.


    William drew off his helm. "My sympathies. Follow me, and I must ask you to stay where I can see you."


    She smiled and swayed before him. "You''re clever for a paladin, I see."


    Then, the girl passed through him as if blown by the wind. William felt something and whirled to see what went beyond. Yet there was only a stark wall of stone.


    He found Jehair, Felix, and Reg downstairs, moving down the steps. Reg''s outfit was a mess and was covered in many vines from nearby plants on the wall. Felix had a black eye and looked in a foul mood.


    "Did he injure you?" asked William.


    "Capturing someone alive is a lot harder than killing them," said Felix. "We gagged him to shut his screaming up."


    "Felix," said William, healing him. "Don''t gag nobility without direct orders in the future, though. Take it off."


    "As you wish," said Felix.


    Reg got the gag up, released by the vines, and started screaming. "You can''t do this! I''m one of the Hawkthornes! We have friends at court, and if you don''t back down, they''ll-"


    Jehair put a knife to his throat. "Shall I dispatch him for you?"


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    "Pull the knife away. It not our place to do so, but Lord Rius'' place," said William. "It is his city, and he is the one who dispenses justice. Although, he may be more lenient if you provide us with some of what we need.


    "Felix, go upstairs and check the records. Find all documents and books and look for everything about this fiasco."


    Felix nodded and went up.


    Then William turned to Reg, who was rubbing his neck. "Who are you working for, Reg? Who made this plan?"


    "I made it myself," said Reg.


    "If you had the ability and resources to initiate this plan, you ould not be here," said William. "If you tell me everything you know and more, I may be able to get you lenience. If you don''t, then many people will want you dead. You have to make yourself useful."


    "You can''t touch me!" said Reg. "I''m nobility, and my family have-"


    "Lord Rius could hang you in a heartbeat," replied William. "And he might do it at this rate. Your family would be unable to do anything after the sheer scale of what could have happened here.


    "They''re going to use you as a scapegoat."


    "You have no idea who you''re dealing with! I work for House Gabriel!" said Reg.


    Did he...


    William had yet to formally introduce himself, and he and Reg had never met. Reg didn''t know. "I am House Gabriel.


    "More to the point, I am William Gabriel, and I assure you that this operation was done without our knowledge. Your actions could doom us even if I thought my family would keep secrets.


    "I am trying to save you. But I can''t do that if you keep spitting defiance for a master who set you up to die."


    Reg looked around. "I have the run of this place.


    "Or I did before anyone else came by. Nobody else had the guts to take command, and Rius wasn''t doing anything."


    "Then why has it slipped out of your hands so quickly?" asked William. "Did you honestly think killing a slave girl would save you?


    "Your Master, whoever he is, wants you dead before you can reveal information. Who approached you? Arkan? Tavish Kern? The Babarassians? House Marn? Neral Dinis?"


    Reg hesitated and looked around. "I took loans from many people to do business ventures in the Islands of Power. With the war in Artarq, I thought Sorn would do good shipping. When the Calishan Wars got bad, Harlenorian merchants traded through Qor''Danas and Sorn. They can still do business.


    "They''re neutral middlemen.


    "But they ended too quick, and the Khasmir Campaign wasn''t a sea battle. So I lost almost everything, and I was in debt. Then, um..."


    "Who did you take the loans from?" asked William.


    Reg looked around. "...A front, nothing official.


    "But it''s one of the De Chevlon''s places. The real De Chevlon''s, not the humans, the vampire clan. It was Neral Dinis."


    "You made deals with a vampire?" asked Jehair, tone shocked. Why was she shocked? She had to have seen this before. Unless...


    Did she have some enmity with Neral Dinis or House De Chevlon? Why would she have contact with Raynald, then? Was it because he was an outcast in his family?


    No, Raynald could have arranged it through Rusara.


    But why take the job if she was at cross purposes? Unless there was a very real reason, she needed to accompany a noble to Gel Carn. A question for later.


    "Business is business!" said Reg. "And you make deals with demons. And who the hell are you to talk? You''re an ally of House De Chevlon, too!"


    "What was your plan here, exactly?" asked William.


    "I thought I''d make a profit, and we''d all profit. They had good rates," said Reg.


    "Who set you up with this?" asked William.


    "Neral Dinis," said Reg. "He''s one of the older ones and handles most of the off-the-books stuff."


    "Neral Dinis?" asked Jehair, very cold. "Are you sure it was him?" She was worried.


    "Yeah, I met him before. He''s a very feared figure in the right circles," said Reg.


    William considered things. "And who are these right circles?"


    "House Hawkthorne deals in all circles," said Reg, now gaining a bit more confidence. "We give people the services they''re too high and mighty to handle themselves. Girls, gamblings, choir boys.


    "Hadn''t you heard?"


    William considered things. "And how did it come to this? How did you go from debt to this?"


    "Well, after the failure, they came to me with an offer," said Reg. "They said they wanted me to help them with something. They said Rius was causing problems for House Gabriel and De Chevlon. So they needed someone to take over.


    "They said that person could be me."


    "And you believed that?" asked Jehair incredulously. "You don''t put a failure in a position of power unless you want him to fail. Or, if it doesn''t matter if he fails."


    William motioned for silence. "Where did you get that slave girl, Farah? How does she fit into this?"


    "Why do you think I killed her," said Reg. "She''s the one that recommended the investments that got me into this mess! I thought I''d lucked out when I found her on the market, but she was the one who brought in the Barabassians.


    "She said...


    "She said that if we offered to convert the city to their religion, they could act as a counterforce. We''d play them against the troops Neral set up and grow our strength. But they cut deals with the Healer''s Guild and others, and pretty soon, they were ignoring me.


    "Most of them, anyhow. And she was the one who went to all the meetings. So I think she hates them and hoped they''d be wiped out."


    William had a chance here. "Who leads them?"


    "Sultan Suleman, he''s not here," said Reg. "He''s been running merchant fleets down here for years, though not usually in this harbor. But all his operations are out in Babarassia and on the shores of Dinis. All of the fleets go through individual captains.


    "The closest one to being in charge is Omar, who is scheduled to arrive here soon. Mostly, he''s been using a go-between named Emile."


    "Through who?" asked William.


    "House Kern," said Reg. "Tavish is the bastard son of the Lord there. Tavish has been using his finances this whole time."


    "I was given to understand that Lord Kern has a legitimate heir, Edward," said William. "Where is he?"


    "Back home, running operations in the lands of House Kern," said Reg. "The Lord himself has a lot of jobs doing dirty work for King Gavin. I heard they were planning something recently."


    "Convenient," said William. "How many ships do the Babarassians have?"


    "A few dozen ships or so," said Reg.


    "Do they go inland at all?" asked William.


    "They might, now and then. They have auction houses," said Reg.


    "Didn''t it occur to you that the Barabassians might view you as weak?" asked William. "And see your reign as an opportunity to prepare for mass raiding? Or even a full-scale invasion?"


    "What do I care?" asked Reg.


    "You set yourself up to die when you struck a bargain with Neral Dinis?!" said Jehair in clear contempt. "It is right that you hang!" Something had gone seriously wrong for Jehair. She must have some investment in all this.


    "Jehair, stop," said William. "Can''t you see the man is cooperating?"


    Jehair stepped back.


    Reg and William shared a glance. He looked to Jehair, then William and William understood it at once. "Why this?"


    "I couldn''t get a loan any other way," said Reg.


    "What about your nation?" asked William. "Our customs, our culture, everything it means to be Harlenorian?"


    "It doesn''t matter to any of these people," said Reg. "The only thing that matters is money and what you can buy with it. Everything else is just lies."


    "And how much money has that belief made you?" asked William simply.


    Reg was silent.


    "What was he transporting? What did Neral Dinis want to be shipped to Haldren?" asked William.


    Reg shrugged. "Malas, a lot of it. It''s been shipping in through smugglers from Antion for weeks."


    William considered this answer and realized how serious it was. "Only a select few organizations are allowed to buy malas. And no one except the Sorcerer''s Guild is allowed to transport it. Only Magicora has similar rights in Escor."


    "And I guess you think the Sorcerer''s Guild are many nice guys?" asked Reg with a sneer. "You don''t have a clue, do you, Gabriel? What, do you think, the entire world consists of knights in shining armor? Nobody cares about your rules or regulations so long as you can''t enforce them.


    "A lot of that malas landed on the Sorcerer''s Guild''s docks and went straight here. Some of it went out into the streets, too. You should be thanking me for shipping it out, or everybody would see your house''s failure."


    "Why was it heading to Haldren?" asked William, ignoring the bait. Reg was blustering and didn''t know.


    "For distribution! Don''t you know anything?" said Reg in exasperation. He seemed infuriated at the lack of response. "Why else would somebody send it over there?


    "It''s an addicting substance; the criminals have lost markets, and they want to send it here."


    "Surely, the supply has diminished," said William.


    "Yes, but they''ve got other sources," said Reg. "Malas isn''t that rare.


    "And it''s very profitable; if criminals don''t make money, they lose their heads. Bribes and tributes to bosses aren''t cheap. The Sornians asked for a piece of the action and got some. House Suvvest. Kaba and Magnious stick to the legal fair."


    Jehair looked to William. "Distributing the malas first to Haldren could be done first. Followed by distributing it to Antion."


    "Maybe," said Reg.


    "A better question," said Felix, returning with a book. "Is why would Gavin want to hide it from you?"


    "Or he may merely believe that we''d sabotage his efforts if he did inform us," noted William. "Either way, it does not matter." He turned back to Reg, who seemed to be listening. "Why were you in communication with Arkan Lantan?"


    "I was uh..." Reg halted. "I''d brought in the Babarassians and hoped to call in him for support. I figured if they were wrangling with each other, they couldn''t take me out."


    "They would kill a noble?" asked William.


    "They might," said Reg. "Once they do it and nobody can do anything, the nobility are done. They''d probably do it through one of the nobles in deep. Call it a blood feud or something, though.


    "Arkan likes things tidy; nothing can be connected to him. I was offering it as a repayment of a debt."


    "How is he connected to Neral Dinis?" asked William.


    "Well..." Reg seemed to be thinking and didn''t seem to know the answer. "I don''t think he is. I mean, uh, Arkan does run with a lot of slavers. So that makes the competition.


    "I figured I could play them against each other and create so much chaos that I could get away with it all."


    "Well, you did a decent job of that," said William. "Your reign would have lasted until an outside power wiped everyone out.


    "How influential is Arkan?"


    "Absolute and nonexistent," said Jehair. "Arkan''s association with virtually everyone is unofficial, but he has a piece of virtually all the action.


    "He''s a kind of criminal King."


    "Still, Arkan does not outrank Neral Dinis in power or nobility," said William.


    "What can you offer me?" asked Reg.


    "At present?" asked William. "I can take you to Lord Rius and recommend leniency. Direct him to all your accounts and any relevant records. He can no doubt use that to regain power.


    "Other than that, when I journey out of Ascorn, I can suggest leniency."


    "Rius is a frontman," said Reg. "I took this place over easily."


    "Yes," said William. "But the Paladin Order is propping up as an alternative to Arkan. I don''t think he''ll execute you if you fully cooperate. Rius will be as concerned about losing everything as you. Other than that, it''s on you."


    "Is Farah dead?" asked Reg. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No," said William. "I healed her, and she is in the room above."


    "She knows too much," said Reg.


    "No one will listen to a slave," said William. "All of her credibility came through you. You don''t have a problem if you reveal everything to Rius and ask pardon."


    Reg halted. "Alright, but when I do after I get out?"


    "I would practice with your sword and find some way to restore your name," said William. "There are a lot of out-of-work soldiers. Perhaps you could find some way to get the land."


    "That could work," said Reg. "But it''d take a lot of money."


    "You could suggest the idea," said William. "And then get a position working at it. Whatever the case, you are free to go. Run to Rius, take your accounts books, and reveal everything to him.


    "It''s your best shot. If you try to disappear, they''ll probably just kill you."


    Reg nodded. "Give them to me.


    "Is it alright if I don''t mention you sent me?"


    "I don''t care what you mention," said William. And he offered him the books.


    "Thanks," said Reg.


    Reg headed off right there and then.


    Felix paused. "William, if I might speak of matters above my station?"


    "Of course," said William.


    "Reg Hawkthorne has proved himself to be a contemptible human being," said Felix. "His arrogance and reckless stupidity have endangered all of Antion. In addition, he has demonstrated precisely no remorse for his actions. He only regrets he was caught in the trap of his own making.


    "It is likely that after serving his function, he will delude himself into believing he got the better of you. Given how easily manipulated he is, he may be useful as a proxy for your enemies.


    "To have him running free would prove that House Gabriel cares nothing for justice."


    William was surprised at the statement; Felix wasn''t usually so verbose. He saw where it was going. "What are you suggesting, Felix?"


    "I suggest that we need Reg Hawkthorne as a witness," said Felix. We don''t need him after that."


    "This conversation is over, Felix," said William. "No true noble would ever willingly stoop to simple murder. Is there any other possible option?


    "Father hates the very idea of it. We deal with this honorably or not at all."


    Felix stared at him with a raised eyebrow. "...You''re doing an excellent job with the messiah act."


    "I mean it," said William. "And anyway, we are agents of Lord Rius, acting on his behalf. He''ll want to decide what to do with Reg anyway. It wouldn''t be proper to assassinate someone in that situation.


    "It would be akin to murdering a guest on the doorstep.


    "If Rius wishes to spare him, that is his business.


    "If he wishes to ignore all common decency and go the way of Baltoth?


    "Well, that is also his business." William halted. "Felix, give the maid some money in compensation for the scare.


    "And we''ll also have to arrange compensation for Lilas'' door. Perhaps we can ask Rius to pay for that since this was his mission."


    "That seems appropriate," said Jehair.


    "Let''s go," said William. There will undoubtedly be still more sick people to tend to."


    "You are a good man," said the maid.


    William looked up, oddly touched by the statement. "Thank you."


    And he departed without another word. Things were finally going somewhere.

 Chapter 138 - Ten: Afteraction

    Many things happened over the next few hours. William was involved in virtually none of them.


    All of the warehouses and ships still in the dock were raided. Warships filled with crews were dispatched to shadow the Babarassians who left. Several battles were fought between the ships. Uther and Cassian proved very effective warriors.


    It was a wonder Rius had needed his help at all. A bit of leadership would have prevented all of this. But then, leadership might be in short supply.


    Reg had not been heard from.


    This worried William.


    Still, it was Rius'' city.


    In the meantime, William continued his miserable task.


    Now they sat in a meeting within Lord Rius'' manor, Tanith and William on opposite sides, nearest to the head. Rius was there, hands clasped together, looking very noble. Jehair and Amenos further down. There was also Lilas, who had been tasked with chronicling the amounts that had been stolen.


    "Should not Farwa and her Paladins be brought in?" asked William.


    "I am quite certain you can represent them well enough," said Rius. "You and they are of like mind."


    "I am not an official member of the order, Lord Rius," said William, uncomfortable by the statement. "I would not feel comfortable doing so."


    "Bishop Joffrey has been called away for important business," said Rius. "And has taken several prisoners for his consideration."


    Prisoners?


    Did that include Reg? Would it be wise to ask?


    "Is Reg Hawkthorne among them," said William.


    "That is not your concern," said Rius with a smile. "It was you who failed to find him, after all. Now, Tanith Telus, I believe you were chronicling reports. I shall hear yours before Lilas."


    Tanith stood up and saluted. "Our documentation analysis confirms much of what Reg said. We''ve captured the workers of the Healer''s Guild, those still alive. The priests have renewed their normal duties. We''ve also found documentation of businesses that knew of this.


    "They assisted in shipping in troops covertly in exchange for certain favors. The slavers were one of them. We stormed all those merchants whom the documents confirmed to be complicit.


    "Those Babarassians who did not leave when warned were killed for cargo. As commanded by Farwa, they were freed and fed before being handed over to Princess Kata."


    "And why was this?" asked Rius, eyebrow raised.


    "Kata''s forces are among our allies," said Tanith. "A condition of their arrangement was freeing all slaves in areas raided. As we have needed manpower, it was decided not to push things."


    "Well, perhaps we can reclaim the property later," said Rius with a smile.


    William said nothing. Lilas noticed it and smiled.


    "With respect, Lord Rius," said Tanith. "It would be more beneficial to have good relations with the Furbearers. Most of those who own the slaves have already crossed you. And if Kata does reestablish a state, even a diminished one, she''ll owe you a favor.


    "The Babarassians fought to the end or took their own lives rather than be captured. A few of them tried to kill the slaves, or so some of the slaves say, but they died of a sudden plague. Laevian owes the Furbearers a favor.


    "Something divine has been pulling the strings here. Maybe several somethings. They want the Furbearers restored."


    "In my experience," said Rius. "Matters of the state usually operate separately from the divine. Bishop Joffrey understands that well, as you will have to learn."


    Was he saying that in front of a crusader? A Paladin and a man who had to be on good terms with Barden to live? William glanced with Lilas and then at the pictures around the meeting hall. It had a high ceiling adorned with much finery but had never been used. The pictures on the wall were very rich.


    "Is that a statement befitting a man of your position, Lord Rius?" asked William.


    "Life is not an epic story, I''m afraid," said Rius. "It''s best to find that out now rather than later. These Furbearers are useful, but continuing to support them will become inconvenient.


    "Inconvenient people don''t last very long in Ascorn."


    And Lilas was convenient.


    This was worse than William thought. Someone had to be kept here.


    "Anyway, we enslaved the workers in the Healer''s Guild, the ones we didn''t kill. We intend to force them to perform their duties for free," said Tanith. "As you ordered, we also moved into the surrounding villages to capture who we could." She was professional about this, wasn''t she?


    "There is a problem, though. I keep getting reports of outbreaks from local villages. Usually, diseases have spread very far to the villages beyond them. And seeing as we''re only catching it now, it might be nationwide.


    "I had some non-corrupt priests draw up a list of common ailments. Some of them have malas sickness, others some nasty stuff. I think the Healer''s Guild has made fighting diseases much harder. In addition, many ailments that show up occasionally have gotten out of control.


    "It''s a paradise for Laevian. William, you might want to get right on that and fast."


    "I''m sure we can see the plague later in the discussion," said Rius. "There have always been plagues in Antion. It is an unfortunate reality that bears no real discussion or novelty.


    "Lilas, you have financial reports for us." Financial reports on the health of his population?


    "I do," said Lilas.


    This was where Rius would acknowledge William''s efforts. But no acknowledgment came, and Rius went on to other subjects. Lilas explained losses and ways to easily recoup them.


    "I expect we will see a total loss in slaves this shipment," said Lilas.


    "Any sign of the Paladins?" asked Rius, too eagerly. Why them?


    "Well, they are coming," said Tanith. "We saw some of their advanced scouts. But they seem to regard the plague as less of a priority. To be fair, when you''re on campaign, you don''t send troops into places you know have the plague.


    "If you must get supplies, you want to do it indirectly. Dunmoore has many non-Paladin troops."


    "Very well," said Rius, obviously frustrated. "Let us call it justified caution and leave the matter at that."


    William had spent two days doing nothing but healing people. Some acknowledgment of it would be in order.


    William waited expectantly.


    Tanith seemed annoyed by this but let it pass.


    "And what of the defecting militia?" asked Tanith. "The defecting soldiers have been impressed into the local militia. However, we haven''t ironed out a real chain of command besides you being in charge. They will be expecting payment sooner or later. Mercenaries don''t work for free.


    "Keeping people idle for a long time is bad for everyone."


    "Is this from personal experience?" asked William, remembering why he had come here in the first place.


    It wasn''t something she noticed.


    "Benarus kept me at low pay for a lengthy period after I spent a lot of money getting to him," said Tanith. "I watched him letting commoners get snatched from their beds repeatedly, and he didn''t give a damn.


    "As long as his precious nobles didn''t get scuffed, he was only too happy to leave the country to rot. He just called Arengeth while Adrian Wrynncurth ran roughshod over him."


    "It was Telix that did it, was it not?" asked Rius.


    "Telix was Wrynncurth''s subordinate," said Tanith. "If Wrynncurth wasn''t keeping him in line, he was responsible for what it was doing. So I wiped out one of his people to force him to back off and force Benarus to do something."


    "...A word, Tanith," said William suddenly. "If you''ll excuse us, Lord Rius. There is something that cannot wait."


    "Of course," said Rius.


    William took Tanith by the hand and took her into a side room. Tanith was surprised. "William, what is-"


    "Tanith, nobody has said anything to you on this," said William in a low tone. "But it needs to be said; You could have started a war and destroyed our relations with Antion."


    "What," said Tanith. "you mean in-"


    "No, not here," said William. "In Gel Carn. Whatever your reasons are, your methods were abominable. It also did a lot of damage to House Gabriel''s reputation and played into what our enemies say about us."


    "What was I supposed to do?" asked Tanith. "Let Benarus run his country into the ground."


    "Benarus managed to resolve that situation without your help," said William. "If you felt action was needed, you could have tried any number of solutions. Hunting wolves, for instance.


    "Instead, you killed a black dragon and forced Gel Carn into a nearly unwinnable war. And I don''t mind telling you that you would be dead if you hadn''t been my closest friend."


    Tanith recoiled as if struck, and Rius looked at her, then William. She almost looked like she was about to cry, which was wrong. "William, I... you wouldn''t..."


    "Wouldn''t Father?" asked William. "Wrynncurth has a legitimate claim to your life, Tanith. Denying him cost us a lot of political capital. Would a no-name mercenary receive the same protection?


    "You''ve been invaluable since, but your attitude needs to change.


    "I don''t care if you enjoy your work a bit more than most people. You saved my life in Khasmir and the lives of many other people. But we can''t have a repeat incident of this. You need to take responsibility and check this bloodlust that drives you. It''s going to get you killed."


    Tanith paused and shifted. "I uh... alright. I''m sorry, I didn''t... I didn''t think..." Her voice choked.


    "Compose yourself," said William. "Give Rius the necessary information and nothing else. I need you at your best."


    Tanith did, and William was surprised at how badly she was taking this. Either way, they went back into the meeting room and sat down. "I apologize, Lord Rius. Certain matters had to be clarified."


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Rius looked at Tanith, and a strange look came into his eye. William considered what it meant. Was he thinking of recruiting Tanith? "Well, to pick up where we left off," said Rius. "Benarus'' overreliance on Arengeth is a whole separate matter."


    Had he heard?


    It didn''t matter.


    "What about the populace," said William finally. "The people of Ascorn have been through a very traumatic period. There has been violence in the streets, a breakdown of trade, and a small war. To say nothing of the plague and-"


    "We''ve all heard your story, my boy," said Rius.


    This was outrageous.


    "We''re not talking about my story," said William. "We''re talking about an armed and well-trained population. They will look for someone to blame."


    "Of course they will," said Rius. "This brings me to another subject;


    "What shall we do about Reg?"


    It was obvious Rius had no respect for William, so he sat down. "I would not presume to question you on the matter."


    "You''re learning," said Rius, who was not learning. "As for Reg, I shall keep him here as a prisoner for now. I will grill him for all the information he has on House Hawkthorne and their associates. And he will spend the rest of his time here in the darkest pits of my dungeons.


    "He will be under heavy guard until I have a use for him. I''ve already dispatched letters to all the nearby places. But I have not stated Reg''s fate. If someone inquires, I shall know who is most concerned.


    "That will go a long way to determine who my enemies are.


    "Even so, I do not think he knows anything more than can be deduced from his finances. Perhaps less. We will gather further information and find our enemies. We''ll determine who they are and their motivations. And their resources and amass the strength to deal with them.


    "And then, at the moment, that is most opportune...


    "We strike." He smiled at William. He knew nothing, or he already knew everything and wasn''t going to do anything about it.


    Reg was being kept here to be used as a scapegoat.


    "Reg Hawkthorne is nobility," said William, trying to keep the shock from his tone. "Are you going to torture him?"


    "That barrier," said Rius. "Can be circumvented in this situation, I assure you."


    "But are you going to torture him?" asked William.


    "If necessary, yes," said Rius.


    You didn''t torture nobility.


    You didn''t torture anyone; it was useless for interrogation. Rusara had taught him that. But if Reg might be, after cooperating...


    "Why not declare what happened? Accuse House Hawkthorne," said William. "This is more than just enough to demand reparations. And we can spare Reg that way."


    "Patience until the opportune moment arrives is the key to all victory, William," said Rius. "Your Father understands that, though he has made a few mistakes in positioning. Win your battle too soon, and the enemy will adjust their plans and strike from another angle. Win it too late, and your enemy will be too strong to stop.


    "We could easily accuse House Hawkthorne, but doing so would make their backers panic. They''d go underground." They''d already gone underground. William had reported what Tavish and Lamech had done.


    "What of it?" asked William, looking around. "It would end the war.


    "And we have Reg''s testimony." Rius looked to Lilas. So where was Reg?


    "Friends, friends," said Rius with much less sincerity than Aras. "We cannot allow past grudges to interfere with the matter." What past grudges? Did he think Tanith and William had a grudge?


    "For the moment, I judge that we do not know enough.


    "Reg shall remain in prison until we learn more. It is doubtful that he shall be any harm there. In the meantime, I am certain each of us shall be able to do great service and find the answers." Reg wasn''t in prison.


    He was almost certainly already gone. But to where?


    "...What of the girl?" William asked. "The one that is either a goddess or a demon? Farah." Then he remembered the blue-skinned girl his age.


    His age.


    Realization dawned.


    William considered what had just happened in this conversation. Rius had openly spoken of reclaiming lost cargo. He had snubbed William for his services. Spoken of torturing Reg, and quite a few other things. At the same time he''d made use of William''s resources while ignoring him.


    Just like he''d ignored Father.


    Rius was his enemy.


    In disgust, William stood up and walked down the table while no one spoke. He placed a hand on Tanith''s shoulder as he passed. Opening the door, he pulled it open, stepped through, and slammed it. The noise hid that he kneeled by the door to listen. It was a very fine door of dark wood.


    "So the child has finally left the room," said Rius. "No doubt to sulk and cry." The absolute fool.


    "He is quite popular with the people, Lord Rius," said Lilas.


    "Popularity rises and falls, Lilas," said Rius. "He''ll be forgotten in a week.


    "Now, what of this vampire conspiracy Reg rambled on about." William saw a servant staring at him and didn''t care. Even if Rius was informed, he would laugh it off as William being a child. The servant walked away.


    "What is your plan, then?" asked Tanith.


    "Well, first, we''re going to have a lot of arrests of problematic citizens. Then some hangings, and then a celebration," said Rius. "A few fines as well to polish off the finances. Best to focus on up-and-comers with less clout. And, of course, we must meet with Lord Dunmoore when he arrives with an entire army of Paladins." Celebrations?


    Had the man looked outside?


    "Lord Rius, this is outrageous!" said Tanith finally. "William labored for two days straight, halting the spread of the plague. He brought you Reg; you have repaid his efforts with insult and belittlement!"


    "Girl, I will have you know that I am a Lord of Antion," said Rius, emphasizing the last states. "And of the most profitable and influential port therein. You are the second child of a lesser lord from a lesser land.


    "You advance yourself through my good graces henceforth. Am I clear?"


    "I''m only saying that William is not harmless," said Tanith, adjusting. "He has very powerful friends. And he''ll likely meet with quite a few nobles on the way to Gel Carn.


    "He has more than an opportunity to return the favor. And he is very good in a fight."


    "What of it?" asked Rius. "He has no personal credibility save by acting as your hanger-on in Khasmir. A glorified insect purge with no human enemies and one dangerous walk in the woods. No money was made there by anyone; it would have been better to let the filthy animals die.


    "Seathorius isn''t that large, and many others have made the journey. Most of his accounts are embellished and falsified. So his only achievement is healing a few dozen lepers and cripples." A few hundred, actually, and that didn''t count other ailments.


    "Not a very impressive feat and can be duplicated by any priest." But it wasn''t. And it could not be.


    "We should shut down the slave trade," said Tanith. "Completely and immediately."


    "Why?" asked Rius.


    "Most of the slaves in this city are going south to plantations in the Antion heartlands," said Tanith. "And they were seized illegally, or at least dishonorably. Most of those plantations are built on land stolen from the men who Reg conscripted.


    "Plantations have a high fatality rate, even the more humane ones of Antion.


    "Without slaves, they will go bankrupt, and we can buy them back. This land can then be redistributed back to the men who lost it. And the people who engineered this make a lot of money on the matter." That decision would wreck Rius'' reputation quickly if he were stupid enough to do it.


    William would love to have pointed this out. But he wasn''t in the room, was he? So Tanith''s vengeance would have to go through.


    Rius clasped his hands together. "And I could use the mistreatment of the Furbears as grounds for shutting things down. Solving several problems at once and putting them under my influence.


    "No doubt no one would care if they were all clapped in chains later. The public is easily manipulated and forgetful."


    "Lord Rius," said Lilas. "This action could antagonize Lady Atravain."


    "What of it, Lilas?" asked Rius. "Atravain is half responsible for this anyone. And her control of a few plantations is insignificant next to this port. One has to be firm anyway to respond to power plays like this.


    "Were it not for Kafka, she should have lost it long ago."


    Insolent...


    "Still," said Rius. "The prospect of a loan is unsettling."


    "Then we waste a great deal of money on people we hate. And have reason to take it back by force when we win," said Tanith quickly, almost seeming a different person. "Harlenorian culture is at stake here. It is built on a foundation of warriors on all levels.


    "If you dispossess the farmers, you dispossess the backbone of our society. Besides, I wonder if Lady Atravain might not have started this herself. After all, she''s the one who needs slaves. And she has three daughters with no real option for advancement.


    "You are still young, milord."


    "Now that is an idea," said Rius. "I imagine Janice might make for a fine trophy once things have gotten underway. Well, befitting the victor.


    "Well then, Lady Telus, will you investigate the slaver operations in this city?"


    "It would be my honor," said Tanith. "William can tag along too."


    Never had William heard such good fake laughter.


    "Then we shall give our paladin friends something to occupy themselves," said Rius. "You are in command, Lady Telus. Make sure Sir Gabriel make no more uproars; the child should be put at ease."


    At that point, the discussion concerned money and how Rius would make it. He talked about ways to sell the property he''d be seizing and how to profit from the catastrophe. All while sharing as little of the money as possible and, if possible, making it at his rival''s expense. Felix and Jehair listened to everything he said and went along with it while Tanith sat silent.


    This was what so many people had died for?


    William stood and walked out of the hall. Looking around at the splendor, he felt utterly sick. He was tempted to set fire to it or smash it up because what would Rius do about it? But he did not.


    So, instead, he walked into the coatroom. There he found a servant straightening the picture¡ªthe one of Father. Now William knew what it meant. Rius had abandoned their alliance and left Father out in the rain.


    He sneered at all that was great and lofty and tore down others in their mind to compensate for his failings. Lord Rius was no noble. Just a fat man living in a fantasy world where everything was utterly grim and dark. A custom-tailored dimension where all that was great and lofty ended in failure and death. Designed to make this impudent brat seem less terrible by comparison.


    No doubt, Rius called his view of reality ''more realistic.''


    It was nothing but fantasy. Here was a man who thought tax policies were more important than those who raised the taxes. A vision of decadence and filth in silken clothes. He''d probably considered murdering a guest to be a brilliant strategic move. There were girls William''s age, mere children, being used as prostitutes in this city.


    And Rius had let it happen. Perhaps even delighted in the practice.


    Honor did not exist to him. The well-being of the realm was a mere footnote to his private fancies of ambition. All delusions were conjured to disguise the facts. He was a coward¡ªa sniveling traitor who abandoned his country, friends, and people. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    William walked over to him. "You don''t need to do that. I will be taking that gift back."


    "...Is that wise," asked the servant.


    "A man who insults Duke Vanion''s son insults Duke Vanion," said William. Then he took it off the wall and walked out into the bleak light of the streets.


    Aras was over to one side, smoking his pipe as usual. It was raining lightly from above, and the filth was beginning to wash away into the sewer grates. The overhang from the building protected the painting. But the city looked mournful and dead now.


    Here and there, beggars were asking for alms, but they were healthy. The stench of death had passed, and the hell had been cleaned a bit. But it remained a hell.


    Aras offered a pipe. He looked exhausted from the long labor, and blood was drying on his cloak. His weathered features were turned skyward up to where the promise of fresh rain was coming. William hoped the painting wouldn''t get ruined; it was a nice one.


    Still, the pipe was there.


    "Mother insists on never smoking," said William. "She believes it can kill a man."


    "Most good things can," said Aras, blowing a smoke ring that floated skyward. "Is that stolen?"


    "It is taken back," said William. "Rius treats my Father and me with contempt. It was in a coatroom, while pictures of merchants were further in. Since he has no intention of treating me with any friendship, why should I burden him with a symbol?


    "Do you want this?"


    "Well, transporting in this squall could be hard," said Aras. "But yes. I have a ship waiting for when I leave this place."


    "Well then," said William. "It is yours.


    "Whatever your rank and wherever you''re going, you''ve treated me far better than Rius. Do you trust Jehair?"


    "Jehair is completely helpful with everyone she works with," said Aras. "Everyone.


    "She makes no moral judgment and does whatever needs to be done. Her interest is in the land itself. This is why she associates with so many violent people. Her sect of the Druids of Laevian believes there are too many people.


    "But if you are in her charge, you are safe and will have your interests looked after until you betray her. Or, until your contract is up, with a grace period naturally."


    "Thank you," said William. "Now, I''ll tell you everything discussed there so you can plan for it. I am only a child and cannot be held accountable for gossip."


    "I think perhaps we understand one another well, William," said Aras, taking the painting. "Do tell."


    William did tell him.


    Aras nodded and smiled. "I''ll make the preparations at once. Thank you, Farwa shall be very pleased with this." And he headed off at once.


    Eventually, Lilas came out of the room, looking very concerned. "There''s a painting missing from his wall, Sir Gabriel."


    "I doubt he''ll mind," said William. "Rius never seemed to have any use for it.


    "I have an apology to make. When I first saw you in the street with your workers, I had a very uncharitable view of you. I realize now that you''ve been here while everyone else comes and goes.


    "And there is about to be a famine."


    "I advance myself through the good graces of higher Lords," said Lilas. "And one has to respond to small mistakes. If you don''t, they are repeated.


    "Good luck."As they walked away, a howling scream of fury echoed from the manor''s doors. Inside, Rius seemed to be screaming at the servants, ignorant that he could be heard down the street. It was the scream of a very rich man who had lost something he had never wanted or needed until now.


    It was a very satisfying one indeed.


    "And since Rius has now staffed his room with my men," said William. "I won''t be attending future meetings."


    William went to get his armor from the ship. It was going to be one of those quests.

 Chapter 139 - Eleven: The Warehouse

    It was the third day now. And they still hadn''t left this miserable city!


    If this was to be the beginning, what could they expect at the finish?


    William, Tanith, Felix, and Jehair took time to get to the warehouse. The smoke of burning corpses rose from pyres to heaven. Warriors drank while speaking of adventures hunting undead monsters in the area outside.


    Kata''s hair was no longer braided and had fallen around her shoulders long. Her fur robes were torn, and beneath them was a chain shirt. In one hand was a spear, and Furbearers were talking to others.


    As she saw them, Kata stood up and ran to embrace William. He held her for a moment and then stepped back. The feeling of her against him was... nice. Even so, he broke the embrace and looked at her for injuries. There was a cut on her cheek, and he healed it quickly, being careful with his gauntlet.


    "Kata, what news?" asked William.


    "We... well, we won," said Kata. "Though we''d have lost many more people if the Paladins hadn''t been here. I don''t think things were as easy as we expected they''d be."


    "We''d best continue this discussion elsewhere," said William, looking to the nearby men.


    "I... I put a spear through someone," said Kata. "He died. He was coming at me with a scimitar, and I raised my weapon and got him in the stomach. I remember his eyes..."


    "Oh, you made your first kill. Good work," said Tanith.


    "Good work?" asked Kata in surprise.


    "Don''t mind her; Tanith lives for war," said William. "Are you alright?" He thought she looked very beautiful with her hair down.


    "Yes," said Kata, adjusting her spear. Her garb was torn in several places, and her hair was down and wild. "I think so."


    "Good. You should speak to someone about it when we have more time," said William. "For now, you''re a leader. Never show weakness, or it will hurt those you command. Grieve when you have the time."


    "How was it for you?" asked Kata.


    "I fought a satyr in Seathorius in single combat. He nearly killed Felix, and I killed him," said William with a shrug. "There was no choice, but it doesn''t make anything better. You learn to deal with these kinds of misery.


    "Pain is how we grow." And they began to walk together.


    "It shouldn''t be that way," said Kata. "Why do you brag about this kind of stuff, Tanith?"


    "I love battle," said Tanith. "I saw terrible things in the war and learned to like them.


    "Either way, we have a mission."


    They found Farwa healing the sick and injured outside the slaver compound. There were a lot of them, and more were being brought out by the moment. She was casting spells and looked very tired.


    Looking up, she finished her work, stood, and nodded to him, dark hair flowing in the wind. "Sir William, you come at last. I have begun healing the slaves and injured here.


    "We are also coordinating with healers who have emerged since our victory. Suran knew the locations where things were worse. We have helped more people since you came to us than ever before."


    "I am pleased to hear it, but you give too much credit to me," said William. "I am simply playing the part mine by right and duty.


    "Princess Kata informs me of you and your men''s heroics. I commend your performance here. Suran is presently occupied with other businesses. I ordered him to assist as needed."


    "That is wise," said Farwa. "I shall send men to his service."


    "On that note," said William. "I must warn you, Lord Dunmoore may be shut out, depending on the situation. Tensions are going high, and the presence of the Paladins here could be a problem.


    "Lord Rius is not in a position where he can trust anyone completely. I think it may be best, once the plagues are in hand, for the Paladins to move out of the city so there are no tensions."


    "But we would never consider such treachery!" said Farwa.


    "Yes," said William. "However, Lord Rius may not know that. If he doesn''t let Dunmoore in, Dunmoore''s allies may think some treachery is afoot. Everyone could end up fighting.


    "And if there is a group of Paladins, a well-intentioned man might ask them to open the gates. It would be far better to find an equally urgent task elsewhere."


    "I will see to this at once," said Farwa. "We shall do what we can. But, could your presence not pose a similar problem."


    "Happily, I''m not going to be here in a few days," said William. "I have pressing business further inland, so we''ll be heading in the same direction.


    "Where is Jehair?"


    "Jehair is here," said Jehair, emerging from a room. "I apologize for my absence. I have been occupied."


    "We should take different paths," said Felix. "And move in small groups. We''ll cover more ground that way."


    "For now, Lord Rius has put me in command," said William, looking to Tanith, who nodded. "I ask you to bear with me for a bit. Everything has become a bit hectic.


    "We will be entering the slaver compound." S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Of course," said Jehair. "It has not yet been cleansed; there is a force in there we do not understand."


    "Gods protect you," said Farwa.


    "We''ll be careful," said William.


    And so it was that they scaled up the steps and through the fortified door. Beyond, they found cells lining the walls. Within it was a foul stench of death and filth that made William flinch. Grasping for his harp, he was assailed by the will of some horror he could hardly see. Yet playing the music against it, he drove back the waves.


    "So tightly packed..." said William, retching. "How can anyone breathe?"


    "They prefer quantity to quality of experience, William," said Tanith, unaffected. "Personally, I''m not fond of taking slaves. I mostly just prefer killing everyone I capture and can''t ransom.


    "They don''t put Harlenorians out of work, they can''t come back for revenge, and the trip back is more pleasant. Besides, slaves are never valuable."


    "Did you expect otherwise?" asked Felix.


    "I did not expect anything," said William. "This place must be cleansed. Farwa, have people from this city bring water to wash away the filth. It must be done by them and them alone."


    "As you command," said Jehair, raising a hand in salute.


    William continued to play as they moved through the cages, and he sensed death after death. The pain and suffering of those who had died in this wretched place assailed him, tearing at his mind. But his music quieted the agony a little so that he could perceive the blood on the walls and floor. There had been real fighting here.


    "Why wouldn''t they employ the Healer''s Guild for this? Are they not allies?" asked Jehair thoughtfully.


    "Business partners may be a better term, Jehair," said Felix. "I expect they have a common purpose but still charge for their services to one another. Assuming they are connected at all."


    "Felix, scan this place for any documents or letters or anything we could use," said William. "The others might have missed something. Don''t give them to Rius; I want to keep them myself.


    "...Are you alright?"


    "This place..." said Jehair, raising a hand as people with water came in. "It festers with the unnatural. There is corruption here that does not exist in nature. Yet, if properly balanced, nature might find a home."


    As Jehair raised her hand, the music of William''s harp was enhanced by songs of birds from outside. The patter of rain from some far away place mixed with his music to burn at the horrors. Years and years of torment and agony were driven back little by little.


    The people with water began to cleanse the place, washing the filth away from flagstones. Yet no matter how far they worked at it, nothing worked. They scrubbed at it, but only the surface of the rot was rubbed away. Water soaked the floor, but it did not seep it in nor drive the corruption. And all the music in the world could not purify this place.


    On and on it went, and William looked to Jehair. "Why would there have been so many sick and injured people in this place?"


    "Priests make rounds the docks to heal anyone who comes off a ship, William," said Tanith. "The setup was made specifically to deal with this kind of thing. I guess they must have not had a replacement."


    "I once saw an entire cageful of people decaying to death," She was playing cards with herself on the ground. "But never this heavily packed. It usually only hits slaves. It spreads by skin contact with the person or the water they were in.


    "So when you put them all down in the hold, water seeps in sometimes and spreads to their ankles."


    "At one time, there was an outbreak in this city, a hundred years ago," said Jehair. "Most of the healer''s and priests were off fighting or had been killed in the Calishan wars. The Calishans were taking Artarq, or you might have been taking it back.


    "I was part of the effort to heal it. It spread throughout the entire town, and by the time healer returned it was too late."


    "Tanith, I think we may have found the source of this plague," said William thoughtfully. "It must have spread to the other villages through the slave trade. And with the Healer''s Guild in place, it would have gone unchecked.


    "Therefore, we cannot ship any of these to the plantations."


    Looking up, he saw a statue in a cell on an altar. Going into it, William saw it was of a woman with many blades coming from her back. The statue was crude and difficult to see, but there was a vicious edge. "...What is this?"


    "A common deity worshiped by slaves," said Felix. "Though I have always found her disgusting.


    "Karus, Lady of the Bound," said Jehair. "She provides hope for those who have none and hears their cries. Though I''ve never seen any cult or priest of her."


    "I think you mean she gives them false hope to use them for her ends," said Felix. "Her contracts are made under pretenses. They are merely another kind of slavery."


    "Isn''t Karus'' the ancient Goddess of Fate, Destiny, and Choice?" asked Kata.


    "Someone who is a slave has no choice," said Felix.


    "What kind of animals would do this to people?" murmured Kata.


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    "Animals driven by a disease I cannot cure. Men who have been severed from good conscience and good sense," said William.


    "Hey!" said Tanith.


    "I''m referring to people who continue in this area of operation, Tanith," said William. "I don''t mean you. You briefly dabbled in the trade as a means of conquest and abandoned it for what it was."


    "Yes, I am certain the villagers greatly preferred being slaughtered instead," said Jehair. "Do you ever tire of warmongering?"


    Tanith turned to Jehair. "Warmongering?"


    And then Jehair had a sword to her breast and her back to a wall.


    "Tanith?!" said Kata.


    "I haven''t seen you lift a finger to help us without being ordered since you got here, Jehair," said Tanith. "And you seem to have a very good idea about what is happening here. Everyone knows you on a first-name basis. But you''re as surprised as we are by this unexpected chain of events.


    "A set of events which you''ve been watching unfold for months.


    "Who is it who bought you, and at what price? When everyone is dead, you''ll feed our corpses to the flowers and bring your elf-friends back in to take our land?!"


    "Enough!" said William. "Tanith, I will speak to you about all of this later. You have my respect and my trust, but wild accusations are helping no one. Now remove your sword and let the insult pass before you get us all killed."


    Tanith nodded and stepped back, her sword sheathing as quickly as it was drawn. "As you wish."


    William nodded. "Tanith, you are going on too fast with such accusations. If you suspect such a thing, it ought to have been brought to me in private.


    "Jehair, your words could be considered a grievous insult. Especially since the horrors here are chipping away at everyone''s patience. For now, this vendetta must be postponed until it is useful to pursue it. If ever."


    Tanith shrugged.


    "William is right; we can''t let these disagreements get in the way of our goal," said Kata.


    "Which is?" asked William, looking at her, only to find the statue of Karus''.


    "Who are you talking to, William?" asked Kata.


    "You, obviously," said William. "Not everyone in his room has the same goal, Kata. We''re aligned for the moment. But you might one day become an enemy of someone in this room. Or perhaps you''ll have to choose between them."


    "But you''re my friends," said Kata.


    "Yes, but, as nobility, you may one day be obligated to fight against us," said William. "Alliances shift, situations change. Nobles are afforded great privileges because they have terrible responsibilities.


    "To be noble is to be responsible."


    Kata nodded. They went further into the slavery compound and came to a room filled with papers. There was also a bar where ale was available, and several spilled cups were lying around. Felix picked up the cups and set them down as people came in to clean the place.


    "...Why aren''t there any Temples to Karus anyway?" asked Felix suddenly.


    "I imagine most have no association with her, save when they''ve no money for a temple," said William. "Unless you call this one."


    "Why pay for a statue, then?" asked Kata, looking at Jehair.


    Jehair put a hand on Kata''s cheek and smiled. "It is believed to ward off misfortune and increase survival rates among slaves."


    "William, I found the documents," said Felix, sorting through papers without looking up. "Nothing directly links them. But there is this." He passed it to William, who looked through it. The pages looked to have been turned and were stained with something.


    "An order for a great many slaves. Far higher than is normal," noted William.


    "That''s to be expected," said Tanith. "Slaveholders burn through slaves fast, and the merchants keep track of it. Many of them estimate how many they need and order them in advance. Sometimes they don''t buy all of them, but usually, someone needs more slaves than expected.


    "As a result, the number of slaves imported is usually pretty predictable. At least, barring a shortage in demand. You''d only get something like this if there was reason to believe you''d have a serious jump.


    "Look here." She pointed to part of a page.


    "What is this?" asked William as he took it.


    "The purchase of broken cargo by the Body Runners," said Tanith, returning Jaha''s look. "They are an organization that ships corpses out the east gate."


    "Corpses?" guessed William.


    "Well, yes, the bodies of slaves that die," said Jehair. "As well as bodies of people who are sold here to be hidden away. Murders happen in ports, now and then, and slavers sell corpses to the Body Runners as well. They also transport slaves sometimes."


    "Who leads them?" asked William.


    "A man named Lamech, who is a long-time associate of Tavish," said Jehair. "You see, they preserve them in caskets and ship them off to the vampires of Antion. The vampires need a supply of them and don''t mind the condition.


    "So if you''re a common murderer and kill a man, you sell them here. They take the body, give you some money, and ship it out east to the servants of Neral Dinis."


    "This is sick," said Kata, looking sick. "Why would your King allow this?"


    "All nations have things like this, Kata," said William. "If the King is good, it''s kept small and manageable, with high risk. But if there is a demand for a product, somebody will want to find a supply to meet it.


    "If they find a way to supply it, they''ll provide it for a price. And once you set up a market, it''s much harder to uproot."


    "It shouldn''t be this way," said Kata.


    "No, no, it should not," said William. "It wouldn''t be the De Chevlons. Raynald has never mentioned anything like this. And Father would never have associated with them. Not if they did this openly, at any rate.


    "And such an open action would draw unwanted attention."


    "You are correct," said Felix. "Neral Dinis plays the role of a middleman. He collects the bodies that lesser vampires eat. Even as the Baroness De Chevlon collections the slaves that they dine on."


    "I knew some warriors who have done the same," said Jehair. "Though I put them in the grave myself and cremated it to make a point. That was before Neral Dinis'' preferences were legalized."


    "Would you rather they eat live prey?" asked Kata.


    "It''s a matter of principle," said Jehair. "Anyway, this is a repulsively neat and tidy operation, isn''t it?"


    "Too neat and tidy," said Kata, shaking her head. "Why is Reg here?"


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "Everyone here was going to get rich," said Kata. "Reg''s doesn''t need to be here. All these men could be employed in something else. Why expose your operation and bring the wrath of House Gabriel down on you-"


    "Two different operations," blurted Jehair.


    "Hmm?" asked William, guessing what she meant.


    "We''re facing two different operations here," said Jehair. "One is a preexisting system of exploitation that has ingrained itself into Antion. The other is a disruptive, violent uprising using the loose ends of exploitation.


    "So whoever put Reg up to this was trying to use the operation to disrupt things."


    "Whoever these people are, they must have contacts in the system," said Felix. "And enough pull to arrange something like this."


    "It doesn''t matter," said Tanith. "What do we do here and now?"


    Jehair leaned against the wall. "A fine idea, Tanith. One should live each moment as though it is the last, for it may be."


    "First," said William. "We will complete our search."


    And their search began. They went down a floor and found several storehouses packed with valuable cargo. Much of it was untouched. They opened this and found many goods that looked to have been stolen. Most notable were the weavings of the battles of Escor.


    "I know these patterns," said Jehair. "These are the works of Magicorian Weavers. You can tell by the slightly unreal part of it. Or they are very convincing imitations.


    "They only sell by specialized licenses. Someone has been selling stolen cargo."


    "We''ll call it weregild for the atrocities done to the Furbearers," said Kata.


    "I have no issue with that," said William. "However, you should tell as much to Rius when the situation is calmer. Courtesy is necessary."


    "This way," said Felix at the door. "Tanith I have found something."


    They found a room with an altar with the floor covered in bones and dried blood. There was a sacrificial knife on the altar, perfectly preserved and cleaned. And there was a body on it that had their throat slashed.


    Over it stood an altar to Melchious, wings splayed outward. His vulture aspect was looking down. William felt like it was glaring at him and felt a biting sensation in his mind. Drawing his harp, he played notes to contest it. For a moment, it held sway, and then his hands were shaking. Looking around, William thought he saw his friends being ripped to shreds. All by vultures without realizing it.


    They kept looking on, as little by little, they were turned into animated bones. Then those bones fell to dust. And no matter how much magic William played, the visions of horror assailed him. He saw on the altar Imogen, the girl from before, and saw her pushed down and tied down. Once done, her throat was slashed, and she gurgled before the spirit vanished.


    Then the body was gone as though it had never been.


    "Are you alright?" asked Jehair. "You have been meeting the gaze of that statue too long."


    "This place is a room of execution," said William. "It must be cleansed. But first;" Snatching up the dagger, he broke it on the ground. Then raising his sword, he cleaved the statue down the middle and smashed the altar. With one blow, the altar broke in twain, and there was a scream of rage.


    Then he turned and saw people from before cheering behind him. William wondered if they were really there or just a phantom. "We should continue our search," said William, desperately unhappy. "This room must be cleared and the bodies laid to rest with proper rites.


    "Keep an eye out for a secret passage. These men might have someplace they can leave in a hurry. Or find some other place."


    "That was a poor move," said Jehair. "Melchious will remember that act."


    "Let him," said William in disgust.


    Jehair frowned and brushed a strand of hair from her head. "How much do you know about Neral Dinis?"


    "Felix, how much do we know about Neral Dinis?" asked William, smiling at him.


    "He is a vampire of formidable power," said Felix, almost laughing. "He was a bitter enemy of the Gabriels in the Escorian Civil War. He was said to wield bolts of pure sunlight without fear of being burned. It is by some sorcery we do not understand.


    "But he lost his clan and his power to Erik the Voyager. And they took up service under the De Chevlon''s, who had once been his rivals. I believe you had great enmity with him."


    "You are correct," said Jehair. "We have long been enemies, even before the Escorian Civil War. He killed one who was dear to me by torment. And I hunted many of his minions.


    "Over the years, we have clashed many times. Yet now we are restrained. Your enmity with Melchious and mine with him may be similar."


    "What was the Escorian Civil War like?" asked William as he looked through merchant manifests.


    "Complex," said Jehair. "In those days, there were many people and many vampires to hunt them, with little cooperation. Every faction had their own agenda. The population grew ever larger; their agendas became all the more unbearable.


    "Oaths were broken, friends betrayed, and anger grew worse. Years of conspiracy tore apart every friendship, and many trees were felled. My lady, the Flower Maiden, groaned by the misery cut into the land.


    "But, all that changed in the Escorian Civil War.


    "With a full-scale war going on, it was impossible to coordinate conspiracies. And coordination was how they were able to maintain their power. Rivers of blood flowed over the land, and whole regions were wiped away. The Pass of Dragon Bones was nearly taken at one point, though it held with my help.


    "And everyone in Escor hated the vampires, except House De Chevlon. So they suffered terribly."


    "I remember this," said William. "They had very conservative rules about feeding on the wicked and avoiding collateral."


    "Anyway, when the war began in full swing, anyone who had an opportunity to kill a vampire did it," said Jehair. "Of course, most vampires are stronger than the average person but are also stagnant. And there were many more people than them.


    "They ended up getting picked off little by little, and Erik the Voyager killed many of them."


    "Ultimately, we exterminated the Dinis line. Neral had to rebuild from scratch as his master. So he sought service under the De Chevlons and plotted his revenge. But I had business in other places and departed House Gabriel. Instead, I focused on helping the land to heal and grow in my Lady''s name."


    "Wait," said William, feeling a flicker of awareness. Something beneath him, a familiar presence. Not evil like Melchious or even destructive, but something else. "Do you sense that?"


    "Yes," said Tanith, moving forward. Moving aside a table carefully, she pulled a rug off the floor. There they saw a trapdoor. "Look here."


    "A trapdoor," said Kata. "Where do you suppose it leads?"


    "I don''t know, but we''d best find out," said William. "Felix, head up and tell Tanith where we are going in case we can''t return. Jehair, I''d like a word with you."


    "Yes, child, what is it?" asked Jehair.


    William considered his question and moved to one side into what appeared to be a kitchen. The slavers had cooked and eaten here. Several side doors with bars on this side had been opened. Now people were using them. "...Why did Rusara ask you to accompany me? And why that particular inn? It struck me as an odd place."


    "Perhaps she wants you to find that question on your own," said Jehair across from him.


    William looked at her. "Please give me an answer."


    "I''m afraid not," laughed Jehair. "Rusara and I were enemies of old, though it was not personal as it was with Neral Dinis. Still, she consulted with me infrequently. I accepted her request with equal confusion. But since I planned to go down to Gel Carn myself, I might humor her.


    "I confess, you are more interesting than I anticipated. I was hoping to have you as a traveling companion."


    "And what did you anticipate?" asked William.


    Jehair smiled back and put her arms beneath her breasts. All while shifting in a manner that made her very seductive. William wondered if she did not realize it. "Someone less benevolent and more focused on getting to his destination. I had taken your books to be a mere exaggeration."


    William shrugged. "Good propaganda never says anything that is untrue or exaggerates at all where they can help it. A lie can be disproven or disbelieved based on what you see. Father taught me instead to focus on those aspects which are favorable. To downplay the aspects contrary to the image you desire to project."


    "Then why does Tanith Telus appear in your books?" asked Jehair.


    "Because I''m not writing propaganda," said William. "I am William Gabriel. I am what is written." There was no way Jehair was actually interested in him any more than Tanith or Kata.


    "That''s a nice line. Did you come up with that just now?" asked Jehair, smiling faintly.


    "Yes, actually," said William.


    At that moment, Tanith came back, and William hadn''t known she''d left. "Well, my men are getting ready right now. We''ll be behind you soon enough."


    William nodded. "Good work Tanith. Then let''s get to work."


    Finally, things were looking up.

 Chapter 140 - Twelve: Destiny Awaits

    The hatch opened, and William leaped down first into the depths. Landing, his boots plunged into inches of mud and dirt. There was an oozing smell around him, and the dim light from above was the only illumination. Raising a gloved hand, he opened a palm and asked the Sun Spirit for aid.


    A sphere of light appeared in his hand and illuminated the passage ahead. As they walked forward, Tanith brought men in from above and among them, Farwa among them. Kata held her spear around her, while Farwa had one hand on her sword in an under-grip. Jehair held her scythe in hand.


    "I don''t understand how you live in this world, William?" asked Kata. It was ironic, for Kiyora had never asked that. "This place, all around us.


    "War, disease, horrors behind every surface. You can''t trust anyone you meet, even good people. How can a person live here?"


    "Someone can live anywhere they can be born," said Jehair. "if only for an instant. You always lived in this world, Kata. You''ve just become more aware of it now. You''ve grown stronger."


    "Not happier," said Kata.


    "Being good isn''t about being happy," said William with a sigh. "You get used to it.


    "There''s always something terrible lurking beneath the shadows in every world. You only need to look for it. If you don''t look for it, it gets even more monstrous and horrible as you ignore it. But, on the other hand, if you obsess over it, you gradually become it.


    "A good person tries to root out the monsters around them. A hero finishes in one place and moves on to another."


    "Do you enjoy adventures?" asked Kata in surprise.


    "I don''t regret having them," said William.


    "Do you think we''ll be able to save Antion?" asked Kata.


    "Probably not," said William. "Antion seems to have been decaying long before I showed up. And many of the most powerful people in Antion are part of it. So the most we''ll achieve is a temporary disruption of their plans.


    "Still, if everyone does everything they can, it''ll destroy their plans instantly. The trick is making that happen."


    "So why do the effort?" asked Jehair, sounding irritated. In the light of the Sun Spirit, her hair looked almost gold. "If you find all this so pointless."


    "Well, many of my people are free, aren''t they?" asked William, turning to be face-to-face with her. "At the moment, it''s all a never-ending sea of darkness, but every small victory creates a small light point. Though tiny, that light helps others light their lights, each shining greater. And little by little, the world is illuminated."


    "Yes, but all that''s done is make us realize how horrible it is," said the Furbearer from before.


    "Of course," said William. "And many people choose to put out their lights when they see the terrible reality around us. Others have their lights trapped by the dark powers. They are tricked into siding against the good. But the illumination of the horrors of the universe makes it easier to fight them.


    "It''s bleak and horrible, and you probably will be unhappy sometimes. But it''ll make the good moments all the better, and you''ll be satisfied that you did what you could."


    "But doesn''t that mean you can''t stop these people?" noted Kata. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "How do you mean?" asked William.


    "Well, if you were doing what they were doing, would you want to be stopped?" asked Kata.


    "Of course," said William. "Their evil deeds will see them damned to hell or worse if they continue as they are now. Death can be a mercy if the only alternative is to remain in perpetual sin, bringing harm to those around you."


    "I think we both know that isn''t going to happen, Will," said Tanith, who had been silent until now.


    "Don''t be too sure," said William. "Perhaps someday it will, in some faraway life. You can''t destroy a soul, after all."


    Then Jehair sniffed and looked upwards. Felix looked at her sharply. "What is it, Jehair?"


    "Someone has been through here. I can tell by the smell on the path," said Jehair. "Come, we must move quickly. They may have warned those ahead."


    And she hurried ahead with the others following.


    "This passage seems to have been cut recently," said Tanith. "No moss is on the walls, and the floor has not been worn as happens in caves."


    "This could be an ideal means of entering the town unseen, could it not, Felix?" asked William.


    "It could," said Felix. "But I do not think it would have been created for that purpose. Slavers rarely seek conquest as a goal. Instead, most purchase their wares from those with conquest as a goal."


    And, at last, they came to a pale light reaching from just around the corner. Dawn was coming from some opening out to the light. There was also a still brighter light source down the cavern, brighter than ever. William wondered if they were coming out into the open.


    William raised a hand to halt as he peered into a large, round natural cavern with a high ceiling and stones. He saw the daylight coming from a hole delved into the rock above. He saw the servant girl from before in the room, her clothes torn, so her shoulder was bare. She was kneeling, and two men held her dark hair. Both had beards after Babarassian fashion and looked at her like she were meat.


    "Well, what do we have here?" said one. "Now, this is a nice find, isn''t it?"


    "A bit old, if you ask me," said another.


    William felt insulted on her behalf on this. She was only a little older than him and a gorgeous woman. And she was almost certainly a Goddess in disguise anyway; her shapely form wasn''t dirty at all. Nor did her skin show any imperfections.


    "Well, there''s plenty younger if that''s your preference. The ship''s just come in," said another.


    "Please, sir, I''m not for sale," said the woman. "I''m a messenger-"


    "Everything is for sale. Especially women who go unescorted without covering," said the man, striking her. "Take her to the auction."


    Those absolute idiots.


    They''d earned their country a century of humiliation.


    "But I bear a message from your partners!" said the woman. "There''s chaos in the streets! Even now, the main storage facilities are surrounded by them." Well, now she had to be a Goddess. They ought to have heard about all this by now.


    Which domain?


    Something to do with chance or rebellion, maybe?


    "Well, we''ll post a warning and continue the auction," said another. "And you''ll make for a fine last specimen. Some like them older. Keep a lookout here, will you."


    A chain was put around her neck, and William sighed. These guys were idiots.


    "Just save a little of the leftovers for me," said another. "I''d like to stick into some of those infidel women myself."


    As she was dragged away, the woman looked at him and winked. Then, she walked away with an exaggerated sway of her hips.


    Was this some kind of masochistic fantasy to her?


    "Obviously," said the other.


    As soon as he was gone, William motioned to Felix, who slipped up behind the man. He cut his throat and stabbed him with three swift strokes. As he did, William came forward. "...Felix, how in Elranor''s name have they not been told of this?"


    "The city was sealed earlier, and the trapdoor was barred from the other side," said Felix. "Perhaps communications have been poor."


    "How are these Babarassians related to Medi, anyway?" asked William.


    "Those Medi were a people who worshipped Zigildrazia. They fled before Baltoth''s coming during his great rage," said Felix. As he spoke, he cleaned his dagger on the clothes of his enemies. "That was after the Fall of Valranor. Baltoth''s wrath had been outpouring upon those who had long escaped justice.


    "Those who would become the Babarassians had Drens among them, and also your people, the Furbearers."


    "Really?" asked Kata.


    "Yes," said Felix. During the fall of Valranor, many fled Artarq and other places to escape the fighting. Some came west to Haldren and served under the Withering. Others fled east to what would become Babarassia and served under the Kingdom of Thera. It was a colony of humans established independent of elven rule, for no one wanted the island.


    "Over time, they grew in number and population and destroyed those who sheltered them. They were allowed to walk unchecked throughout the land.


    "So you see, the King of Haldren has some right to be paranoid. Your people are kin to the Babarassians, just as kin to the Medi. You and the Babarassians are kin, in a way. They are a twisted mockery of your people, fit only for extermination."


    "I''ve never seen you speak with such hatred, Felix," said William, disturbed. "This seems more like what Raynald or Tanith might say."


    "Well, yes," said Felix. "But you know that Tanith is just speaking nonsense to justify what she does."


    "That''s a little harsh," said Tanith.


    "You''ve met Calishans and know it''s all just nonsense," said Felix, ignoring her. "What I''m saying is perfectly true, and can you point to anything that says otherwise?"


    "I''d hate to judge a society based on its slave traders. And Emile seemed reasonable enough," said William.


    "He wanted to marry a twelve-year-old," said Tanith.


    "I took him to be twisted by the society he lives in rather than genuinely evil," said William. "Every nation has its own... problems. And anyway, he released her, as well as the other slaves.


    "So he at least deserves some consideration."


    "Because he got caught," said Tanith. "He retreated from an untenable situation. He released his slaves out of fear of retribution."


    "We can discuss this matter another time," said William. "We''ve got work to do."


    Now assembled, the men hurried into the next place. It was a large cavern that William had difficulty believing it was real. The light poured in from a beautiful window into a harbor overlooking the sea. Distantly, one could see Haldren and the sun rising. Yet the vision was marred by the image of silhouettes of slave ships and wooden construction.


    Beneath it were many men in a crowd, armed. They leered at many terrified women of all races and howled prices. Heedless, that dawn was rising over a serene harbor, the likes of which had never been seen in Haldren. The slaves saw it, and their expressions changed to wonder, for some magic had shifted it.


    William and his men were struck dumb as the water became clear. It reflected the light in many-colored sparkles. But the well-dressed, overweight men looked at their coins.


    Their guards looked at the slaves like predatory animals. And the buyers, of all races and creeds, looked at the slaves now in hatred.


    For they sensed their pain and helplessness had waned for an instant. It made them despise them as much as they lusted for them. And William knew they would fall on their new property like wolves to fresh meat if this went through.


    Yet, something stayed in his hand, a power-like web clinging to him.


    Many of those here were girls and women and very beautiful. Their eyes were dull as if in a dream, and the men around them had an unnatural sneer. Among them was that same blue-skinned girl he''d seen before.


    "Now look at this one," said a white-bearded man. "A bit old, twelve, but of nice appearance. Pale skin and nice eyes. Can I get a number?"


    Numbers were given, many of them by Harlenorians. And William realized in horror that their people were buying here. How many people had been brought in from above? How many had been distributed to the lands beyond or sent away on those ships? He motioned to Tanith, and she moved with her forces to block the entrance at the far end. The guards there looked up too late and were killed quietly.


    "That''s one price! And sold!" said the man. "Bring up one of the younger ones, will you."


    "The children..." said Kata.


    "Everyone here dies," said Jehair in a fury. And for once, William held no suspicion toward her.


    "Not yet. We need information from them," said Felix. "Look at this setup.


    "We need as many alive as possible." The ships did not look like those that could travel on the Haldrenian Channel. It was as if they had come here by similar means.


    The Dreaming Goddess.


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    Were they using Kiyora''s power for this? How? Could this Queen Jazra have a power similar to hers?


    "Felix, go down the corridor and see if you can meet our men," said William. "Prepare to go out once you hear fighting."


    The sunrise continued, keeping the slaves calm and easing their distress. Meanwhile, the buyers drank and screamed. The buyer smiled. "And that''s another fine infidel damsel handed over to her salvation under Zigildrazia. Next up, and last, we have a recent addition. A much older kind, this one is quite a beauty herself."


    William tried to give the order but could not do so as the servant girl stepped onto the stage. Some force spellbound him; he could only admire how she posed instead. She stood, sticking out her chest, her tied hair over one shoulder, and smiling as though under a spell.


    But she wasn''t. The dawn rose just behind Farah, making her appear as divine as she raised her arms without being bidden.


    "Once the consort of a very powerful Harlenorian Lord. She''s plenty experienced," said the man. "We... acquired her, and we''ll put her up for a healthy number."


    "What''s her name?" asked a man.


    "I am Farasa," said the girl. And then she resumed a normal posture, and her face became stern and terrible. "You have walked a path of your choice. You have cut short the destinies of many. And now you shall suffer a righteous fate.


    "Behold your executioners."


    And now they saw William and Tanith, who sprang forward almost of their own accord. Their blades were out, and William realized he meant to kill them. But, no, he forced himself to stay his hand as he broke a spear and threw a man down. "We need them alive!


    "Alive!"


    "Damn Harlenorians! She wasn''t lying!" said a Babarassian. "Kill them all!"


    Even as they looked up, the sun''s light blinded them. It reflected off the Harlenorians'' spearheads. The men roared as they charged in, and the Babarassians were overcome. In moments, the front line was defeated, with many slain. The buyers went for weapons or fled for their ships.


    But they were too late. Many finely dressed men fled for the boats, only to be cut off by Jehair, who spun her scythe. Vines on the walls hereto unseen grew up to grasp them. At the same time, Tanith and her people stormed onto the ship, overpowering the guards easily. Those who were not killed were bound easily.


    Kata drove a lance through one while the other Furbearer nearly cut two throats with a knife. William hewed down one with his sword. Tanith and Jehair slew many, blade and scythe gleaming with power.


    They tried to get to the ships, but their crews were drunk, and the men were on them. The port was taken in less than a minute, the ships seized, and men pulled away.


    "Take whatever you want of the riches on the vessels," said William. "But the slaves will be freed!"


    "Free the children and check the holds. And harm no one you do not have to. Not an ounce of blood is to be spilled without need. Tanith, take charge of distributing the loot."


    "Much obliged to you," said Tanith. "These slavers are tepid and weak. The ones up there put up a decent fight, at least. These ones broke after the first charge."


    Things progressed as searches were undertaken below decks. As they did, an overweight, overdressed man was pulled forward. He wore silken outfits and a white hat with a red gem on the top. "Unhand me," said the man. "I am a Sheik of Noble Birth of Barabassia, and I shall not be manhandled!"


    "Release him," said William. "The battle is over."


    The men did.


    "What is your name?" asked William.


    "I am Mohas Omar, a personal envoy to Lord Rius, and you will pay for this outrage," said the man.


    "On what business did you come to Lord Rius, and why were you in this place?" asked William.


    Omar shifted beneath his hard gaze, fingering his golden belt. "...I was conducting some side business here. Of course, such a thing is permitted. Orders were given; we were not to be disturbed."


    "Does Lord Rius know what you are doing here?" asked William.


    Omar shuddered. "Of course he does! I am an envoy; come to negotiate a leadership change!"


    "To whom?" asked William.


    Omar tried to keep William''s gaze and eventually averted his eyes. "...The Lord Reg, of course. A mere formality, as anyone can see."


    "I see," said William. "And this spell that changes the water, what is it?"


    "All Babarassian colonies have it," said Omar, seeming glad at the conversation change. "Our magic only works in locations we have created it in. The magic of Queen Jazra gives us swift and easy sailing. One day, she shall rule all dreams and grant all wishes."


    "How does it spread?" asked William.


    "By men giving themselves to Queen Jazra," said Omar. "Those who let her rule them receive their wishes; we are her agents. Death does not mean to us what it means to you."


    So that was it.


    If the plague had gotten bad enough, people would have jumped at the chance to escape. And some would be willing to give up their souls. If it had continued, Babarassia''s dimension could have gradually spread. A decent plan, given the situation.


    "And these men, are they here by choice or no?" asked William.


    "They are," said Omar. "They come from many places in Harlenor to purchase."


    William paused. "Felix, Jehair, get the names of every person who was here. Send their names to those it might concern. Make sure King Vortegex knows how his own people have served him.


    "Omar, I fear that you have been misled.


    "Lord Rius has been restored, and Reg rots in a dungeon for usurping him. Your people departed Ascorn late yesterday upon realizing their error. I am surprised no notice was given to you."


    "It seems my representative was slain in the fighting. So I am at a disadvantage," said Omar.


    "Very well then. If you are an envoy, you shall not be harmed," said William. "Felix, keep an eye on him." Then he turned to Kata, standing close to Jehair and speaking quietly. "Kata, search the boats. Find all the documents you can, free all the slaves, and determine their origins."


    "You can''t possibly be serious," said Kata. "Do you know what they did?"


    "I am quite serious," said Wiliam. "You will settle your vendetta with the Babarassians later. Our only concern is saving and leaving your people here in one piece.


    "Sheik Omar, I would arrange a departure as soon as possible. Instead, forces are using your people as a bargaining chip, even though I don''t understand.


    "The Lord Dunmoore was en route with an army by order of Lord Rius."


    Omar stared. "You cannot possibly be serious.


    "Who is running this country?!"


    William halted. "Unless you want to find out, I''d take your followers and get out. Did you know where they came from?"


    "Well, there is usually an understanding that bad things happen in this business, but no," said Omar. "The slave trade does not care who you were before the chains got put over you.


    "As for the Haldrenian colonies...


    "I have no influence there. It will be a terrible loss for all involved at this rate."


    "You might try transporting grain," said William.


    "I''ll have to take another loan, but yes, reasonable," said Omar in disgust. "Never again with this slave-trading business."


    So Omar left with the rest of his crew to go to sea, and his slaves went. Tanith gave him a gift from some of what was stolen. The Harlenorians were still there, and William didn''t know what to do with them.


    "Why did you let them go?" asked Kata.


    "I already gave the rest of them leave to go," said William. "So I must honor the offer with Omar. I can''t afford to fight the Babarassians while all this mess happens."


    William got to work, but it didn''t seem there were that many wounded to heal. Little by little, as the dream faded, Tanith returned with a pouch of leather. In it were papers. The sea was rough again, and the sky turned to night.


    "Will you see this?" asked Tanith.


    "Hmm, documentation from the Lord Reg. This is authorizing an increase in trade activity," said William.


    "Rius was under-declaring the number of slaves sold here," said Tanith. "Babarassians give high prices for slaves than planters. But there are rules for selling to a foreigner, and you can''t sell Harlenorians. There are rules.


    "A lot of these people were Harlenorians.


    "And what''s worse, many men say there''s a question as to if the harvest will be brought in at all this year. So these slaves were needed to get it done."


    "Where are these Harlenorians from?" asked William. "Did you talk to them?"


    "Many are from Blackfear," said Tanith. "Neral Dinis'' domain, a new shipment. They say armed men seized them during the night. It was done by someone called Lamech.


    "Others were taken from Escor, sold by local lords in that place against the laws. It''s a common practice when you want to cover expenses. But never on this scale. Lamech was doing it too and had generous payments from Bishop Joffrey."


    "Where is Tavish?" asked William. "Surely he was Lamech''s master?"


    "I think they are equal partners," said Felix.


    "Felix is correct," said Jehair. "I am quite familiar with the territory Tavish operates in. He takes in strays with nowhere else to go and gives them work.


    "Lamech prefers to use the worst of humanity. The two often share the same interests, but their operations are separate."


    "Well, why didn''t you mention that before?" asked William.


    "It did not seem relevant," said Jehair. "Since your goal has been to get out of the city as soon as possible."


    "Felix," said William. "Tell me what is going on here in plain Harlenorian."


    "Lamech is enslaving Harlenorian citizens on flimsy pretenses," said Felix. "And nothing has been done to stop him. Tavish has enslaved the Furbearers on behalf of the planters of Antion. Rius has yet to do anything to control this, and merchants handle all his affairs.


    "Either the nobility and church of Antion can do nothing. Or they are actively complicit in this."


    "Or they may not know," said Jehair. "There is a difference between reading a report and seeing."


    "They can know and look out the window," said Felix. "Therefore, they either know or they choose not to know.


    "There is no excuse for this level of detachment."


    "We will make such judgments when we go into Antion proper," said William. "For all we know, the Paladin Order has already fixed all this. And we are simply at the very edge of the battle.


    "Tanith, recruit these slaves into your personal forces. Put them at Farwa''s disposal. Don''t spread any rumors about what we''ve heard here. The last thing we need is a revolt among the commoners.


    "Kata, take the customers to the slave cells and hold them until one of us comes with further orders. Ensure they are clean, and no one is overcrowded or poorly fed."


    "Why should we?" asked Kata, leaning against a cave wall with arms crossed. She probably was trying to look stern and unforgiving. She wasn''t really succeeding.


    "Your people have ample reason to hate the Babarassians," said William. "That is no reason to become them." Then he turned to the beautiful, dark-skinned Goddess and saw her smiling at Kata, who blushed. "You would be the Goddess Farasa, then? Or would you prefer Farah?"


    "I am," said Farasa. "Goddess of Destiny and daughter of your enemy, Baltoth."


    "And what has brought you here?" asked William, trying to keep his eyes on her face and failing. He''d been having trouble doing that a lot lately. "Beyond sewing chaos?"


    "I abhor slavery, for it steals the choice from mortals. It robs them of their destiny," said Farasa, stepping too close for comfort. "I abhor Barabasians for the terror they cause too many of my worshippers.


    "In Reg, I saw an opportunity to harm both of them. And also to damage the institution of slavery in this land beyond repair. So I inserted myself into his company. Before he met with Neral Dinis and made appropriate arrangements." She leaned in closer, and William kept his composure and tried to avoid reacting.


    "Corrupting him into sin?" asked William.


    "Please, Neral Dinis would have made the offer anyway, as Jehair can tell you," said Farasa. She stepped away and mesmerized everyone around her with the swing of her hips. "I simply sped things up. Reg was an obvious target. And his entire family is steeped in sin. All I did was allow him to become something more. By taking it, he has assisted in my efforts."


    "And apparently, we have been your pawns," said Jehair.


    "I prefer to think that I channeled your destiny toward greatness," said Farasa with a smile. "Had I not arranged for you to be attacked by that ship, you would never have rescued Kata.


    "So you would have healed a few injured and left."


    "I don''t like being manipulated," said William.


    "Get used to disappointment," said Farasa, turning to him. "So, is there anything you want?"


    "I was taught to beware people bearing gifts," noted William.


    "Call it the repayment of a debt," said Farasa, piercing him with eyes. "You were of use, so I owe you thanks. What do you want?"


    William struggled to maintain his grip. "I think you owe more than one debt, Farasa. Kata and her people, for instance. They were enslaved and shipped to foreign lands by your trap. Go to them first if you want to ease your conscience.


    "For my part, I have nothing to ask now." And he realized it was true. He wanted to be great by his power. Using a favor would be akin to admitting defeat.


    Farasa looked disappointed, then strode past him to stand inches from Kata''s face. Kata blushed at their proximity as Farasa shifted before her. "As you wish.


    "Call if you need me. I suppose I''ll see about the Furbearers."


    What Kata and Farasa spoke of, William didn''t hear.


    Everything seemed to blur together, and soon, Farasa was back before them. Everyone went about their business. Finally, William decided to ask questions. "What are these Barabassians doing here? And how did they not know of this?"


    "They have several such smuggler ports in Escor, and this one has been held recently," said Farasa. "However, many other customers have come to this auction. As for how they did not know, they have a decentralized system.


    "Many in Ascorn did not know this port or the others. It was set up specifically by Omar to cater to the desires of the Babarassian elites."


    "She''s right," said Tanith, looking at Farasa in irritation. "It turns out there is documentation of several different smugglers'' caves. Shipments of supplies further down in Escor, including near Magicora." Farasa seemed somehow insulted by Tanith''s disregard for her.


    "What, is destiny too good for you?" asked Farasa.


    "I don''t need it," said Tanith. "I am Tanith Telus. I fear not death or pain or agony. By my hand alone are my enemies slain. If you dare to try and alter my fate, you will be cut down like a tree." Farasa flinched, and Tanith looked back to William. Tanith used to be obsessed with beautiful women. "This is great news.


    "We''ve needed a war to fight."


    "Jehair, check outside this cave with Felix. See if you can pick up any trails leading inward," said William with a sigh. "I expect they must have some kind of outpost or base on land. A supply chain of sorts.


    "One could not set all this up without work."


    Then he took Tanith to one side. "Tanith, I want you to figure out where all these smugglers'' ports are. Get together some ships and men to raid them. Interview those we are holding prisoner and find ones who can guide the ships.


    "Once you have done that, go to Lord Rius and suggest we initiate raids on them. Say nothing of the fact that I told this. Given what was revealed here, I think he will happily unleash you on them. He may even know the locations.


    "Now, this part is essential. Rius may attempt to subvert your loyalty.


    Tanith blinked in surprise. "You don''t suppose he is that stupid, do you?"


    "I think he believes you''ve been alienated from me," said William. "Your family is of immense value to House Gabriel and among our most trusted friends and allies.


    "If you were to be turned, political marriage to an ally or some other arrangement could do. So I want you to make your frustrations known."


    "Okay, why?" asked Tanith, looking to where Farasa had her arms crossed. She seemed irritated at the lack of attention.


    "I had initially taken Rius to be a reasonable man who let things get out of hand," said William. "However, now I think he is a villain who fell into a pit of his own making." That was perhaps the understatement of the century. However, the men had not been privy to their earlier conversation. "If so, he may be grateful and turn over a new leaf.


    "Or he may decide we are trying to exert power over him and try to weaken us. Certainly, he would already be our enemy if he were part of this. You are the apparent weak point."


    Tanith halted. "What do you mean?"


    "People think you''re reckless and stupid," said William. "You''re not, but the casual way you present yourself makes you seem less intelligent. So, first, I want you to take all of this information to Amenos. Then, once done, I want you to go to Rius and tell him about Omar. Make it casual, as if you don''t think it''s important."


    "But why would we want to throw away Omar? Isn''t he a useful piece," said Tanith.


    "The only possible use Omar could have would be blackmail," said William, looking to Farasa. "And we already have the written documents from his ship. So we can''t negotiate with him without going above Rius'' head, and we can''t interrogate him.


    "Not honorably anyway, especially since the Babarassians have shifted loyalties. Make it clear to him that we are at his disposal and don''t seek any needless confrontations. Humor him unless he does something to threaten our houses directly."


    "Right, right," said Tanith. "Can I have the ships?"


    "Yes, yes, so long as the usual plunder rules are applied," said William. "No slave-taking, though; it could alienate Kata."


    "Okay, but what is the end game here?" asked Tanith. "Why am I doing this?"


    "Tavish Kern had some plan for this place, Tanith," said William. "It may still be in motion and may have involved Rius. I have to go south to Gel Carn and can''t do anything. Father can''t send anyone down here without risking trouble.


    "So, I need you to act as my agent in this matter. Observe events and keep Amenos informed. He reports directly to Rusara and will have channels.


    "With any luck, you can stop Tavish''s plan when it begins."


    "Right, should Kata know about this?" asked Tanith, looking to Farasa. "And can she hear us?"


    "If she chooses to, there is little we can do to stop her," noted Felix. "As for Kata, I wouldn''t. She isn''t trained in this kind of thing."


    "We have to tell her something, Felix. She''s our ally," said Tanith. "I''ll give it to her in broad strokes and tell them it''s really important no one knows."


    "Make sure you tell only her, Tanith," said William.


    "Will you stop staring at us!" shouted Tanith.


    Farasa laughed. "You know, Father will give you to me after they kill you, Tanith. I''m looking forward to it."


    And a red ribbon surged from behind her. It wrapped around Farasa''s long legs, binding them together. It then worked its way up her slim waist and covered her breasts, shoulders, and face. For a moment, she stood there, mummified, before the cloth unraveled. Farasa had disappeared.


    Nothing remained.


    "...We ought to set a guard on this place, just in case any new ships arrive," said Tanith. "We can use them as them; communication isn''t good at sea."


    "Do as you will," said William. "I need to meet with Jehair."


    "We probably shouldn''t return for some time," noted Felix. "Once Dunmoore arrives, the balance of power will shift. We ought to leave like thieves in the night. He was giving orders that everyone cooperate with Lord Rius and Kata.


    "Disappearing out of nowhere will make Rius think we''ve simply moved on and forgotten him. He''ll likely show his true colors then."


    "Well, that sounds fun," said Tanith. "Let''s get to it."


    William liked looking at Farasa. But he was glad he didn''t have her eyes on him anymore.


    And, at the very least, William Gabriel and Felix walked out of the cave. From the earth, they walked into the welcome air of daylight. The trees swayed in an errant breeze. The sky above had a few whiffs of cloud, but the air was crisp and clean.


    At last, they had escaped from Ascorn.


    Their journey had finally begun, and William was about ready to go home.


    This did not bode well.

 Chapter 141 - Thirteen: New Paths

    William had a bad feeling about this.


    Having taken a long tunnel out, he sat outside the cave and found guards who had fled with their weapons. That meant someone would be coming by soon enough, so he posted guards to watch. But, for now, he and Felix were playing cards while looking at a rocky and beaten path. On either side were dark woods with many stones and loose earth.


    They led up into highlands south and west toward the Black Mountain. West was Magicora, and you could see the white walls shimmering distantly. It looked much more beautiful than Ascorn, with hedges and a radiant aura. It was a shame they wouldn''t be going there. It loomed high, casting a vast shadow over them.


    Felix had gotten the deck from a girl in Ascorn, that dancer they''d seen.


    "Did you know what an unwinnable hand is?" asked Felix. S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "In cards," said Felix. "It is possible to get a totally unwinnable hand. No matter what move you make or the cards you draw, you cannot win.


    "See, the starting conditions of the deck determine the game.


    "If you get the wrong starting conditions at the wrong time, you are defeated. What do you do then?"


    "Your enemy might make a mistake," noted William. "Appear weak and foolish and offer an easy victory. Then, kill them. Father did that at Desora and Raynald at Savior''s Run."


    "Yes," said Felix. "But what if no negotiation were possible? How long could he have held? And if he had held, what matters would have slipped his notice?"


    William looked around at the forest that came to an end near a city that had nearly been destroyed. How much worse was everything around him. "Baltoth must have known this was happening.


    "So he must have a use for Harlenor."


    "Which is?" asked Felix.


    "His empire may be more fragile than I thought," said William. "Perhaps he believes Father''s offer was better than what he would get by conquest. Malas is a resource, and we have little love for it.


    "It is not impossible that it could be destroyed."


    "Does that make Baltoth your friend?" asked Felix.


    "No," said William.


    "Why not?" asked Felix.


    "Nations don''t have friends," said William. "They have interests.


    "Individual people can love one another as brothers. But a nation is not a person. A man can be a ''good'' King and yet be a monster. Politics is not personal."


    "Does that not apply to you, too?" asked Felix.


    William was silent for a moment, unsure of where this was going. He wondered if he should just ask Felix to elaborate.


    "What are you getting at Felix?" asked William.


    "You have had more than one enemy in your company, and there will be more," said Felix.


    "I know," said William. "I have no intention of saving the world. I plan to help as many people as possible while getting to Gel Carn. This is all far too large for me to deal with me.


    "It would be pure vanity to try."


    "You might have no choice," said Felix. "Farasa has the power to make sure people are in the right place and time. You''ve gotten her attention."


    William looked to see Jehair coming back, scythe in hand. Her hair was a bit messy, and she was combing it. Her clothes had been soaked in mud and dirt. "Jehair, what news? Do you need healing?"


    "A number of our enemies came on me while I was out," said Jehair. "I sent them off with a few bruises. But it was a near thing, and I had to hide in a ditch to keep them off."


    "Find anything?" asked William.


    "I''ve found a path," said Jehair. "There are tracks of recent comings and goings all throughout this way. Some go off into villages that are better documented. Others go to less-known villages that are not official.


    "And a few heads off toward the Black Mountain. Those ones have a lot of wagon wheels. Someone has been shipping good up a path in that area. We could create an outpost on the upper slopes.


    "This side of the mountain is comparatively level. Therefore, if one could arrange for safe passage through the giants, it could make a good trade route."


    "You could not hold this operation without a supply source," said Felix. "Ships arrive unpredictably, and you would need a constant watch. Not to mention someone to pay off officials.


    "The villages around here would need to be on the take.


    "And the Lords must have at least some idea this is here. So there must be some purpose."


    "We''ll follow these tracks as far as we can," said William, looking to Jehair. He contemplated whether she would lead them into an ambush. "We''ll see what we can find out there. If we can locate this place, it may be of use.


    "You may take some time to wash, of course."


    "Very well," said Jehair. "I will go to a stream near here."


    William had already done so. Looking up at the skies, he reflected that this was the part in the fantasy where he went to find her. There he''d find her naked and waist-deep in water, her hair around her nubile form. The fantasy played across his mind several times.


    It was only a fantasy, so he remained silent.


    And Jehair returned, looking a little irritated at one thing or another. William guessed that she hoped to use him for some purpose. Given an elven lifespan, she would outlive him by far. Getting him to be infatuated with her could be useful.


    "Let''s go," said William. "To find this village."


    Jehair nodded. "I had often walked these lands and intended to go around here when I guided you. There are several villages here, just north of the Black Mountain. The land here is of no use for planting, and the people of this land are woodsmen.


    "Few indeed march to war often and have provided shelter and protection for many in bad times."


    "Do you think they are involved in these bandit attacks?" asked William.


    "There are good and bad people among all factions and races, and usually far more bad than good," said Jehair. "I am certain that at least some of them are involved."


    "Wasn''t there something you could do?" asked William.


    "I am a Druid of Laevian, not a Knight of Harlenor," said Jehair hotly. "If the people who fell trees and dry up rivers wish to kill one another, so much the better. Their races will be less of a burden on the land, and those that remain will have better lives.


    "If mortals are so determined to slaughter one another, let them do so. It will reduce the surplus population."


    "Will you help me with this?" asked William.


    "I was enlisted as a guide until you reach Gel Carn," said Jehair, looking away. "If you wish to detour, I shall guide you." This was too obvious; she was obviously trying to give an appearance.


    "Thank you," said William. "Take me to the nearest of these towns. I would speak with those who lead them."


    "No doubt they''ve already seen us," said Jehair. "I spoke to several of them outside the cave and explained the situation."


    "You should have had them seized and hung," said Felix suddenly. "They are surely fully aware of this situation. An example ought to have been made with their corpses."


    "There may be mitigating circumstances," said William.


    "There is no mitigating this," said Felix.


    "I am a guide, not an officer," said Jehair. "I had no notion you had plans to purge the world of crime, and I hadn''t much interest. And killing six people did not appeal to me, whether they were criminals or not. Besides, in doing so, I should make many dangerous enemies for you and me."


    "Very well then," said William. "If there is to be a bloodletting, however, wouldn''t you prefer the people killed off to be the evil ones?"


    "Good and evil are merely different sides of the scale," said Jehair. "If one becomes too heavy, all worlds will fall out of balance. The world will be in harmony only when both are kept in check in proper amounts." She halted and saw their gaze. "What is it? You look at me as though I have grown a second head?"


    William wanted to say, ''don''t talk damned nonsense.'' But it didn''t seem appropriate.


    "It''s nothing," said William. "Lead on."


    Whether she believed that or not, Jehair was involved in this. William does not suspect she was using him as cover to escape complicity in events. She seemed to have been expecting someone else. Unfortunately, William had not lived up or down to those expectations. It is best to appear less confident and powerful now, for a time.


    "They should be waiting for us, I think," said Jehair after a moment. "Let us hope things will continue smoothly."


    "You set up a meeting?" asked Felix.


    "I told them I had a powerful healer who could aid their sick and injured," said Jehair. "There seems to have been a sickness among them of late. Such things happen now and then."


    "Let it pass, Felix," said William. "I just want to help people."


    "With respect, William," said Felix. "This is completely outside of her-" He saw William''s gaze. "Fine, do what you want."


    "...That seems to be a common occurrence," said Jehair with a smile. "I also assured them that Rius cannot attack them so long as you are with them. While your presence allows me to observe things."


    "Very clever," said William. "Why the short-term arrangements?"


    "I had very little time, and the plan seemed the only reasonable one to start with," said Jehair.


    And so the journey began.


    The going was rough, and William''s heavy armor made it miserable. His strength was enough to keep at it, of course. But Felix and Jehair seemed to go lighter of the foot, so he had to strain to keep at the head. The sun beat down from above, yet William often thought he saw flashes of pink in the air. As though some magic was around them.


    They halted by a fast-flowing stream that came from the mountains. The tree branches hung low over it like trying to drink from the clear waters. Here, he washed himself of sweat with Felix. He did so separately from Jehair and had Felix keep watch. When he returned, he found Jehair cooking a rabbit meal over a stake.


    "Why a scythe?" asked William. "I''ve never heard of any fighting techniques like that."


    "Most of my work has been done elsewhere," said Jehair. "I, much like Lamech, received my training in foreign parts."


    "Do you know Lamech?" asked William.


    "I''ve encountered him several times," said Jehair. "He killed a very dear friend of mine. "In fact, he was a very dear friend of mine. Though it was long ago in a different life, and it''s bad form to hold grudges against reincarnations."


    "Why?" asked William.


    "Sometimes, someone in one life is terrible," said Jahair. "But then in the next, they become a saint. So, the first life is a kind of learning curve.


    "You''re only allowed to pursue vendettas against people for their lives in this life."


    "The art of revenge?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Jahair. "What of your own view?"


    "Revenge is an obligation," said William. "A crime must be avenged in some form, whether by law or steel. However, vengeance must be achieved solely through good deeds. And you should pursue it in such a way as to end the grievance, not perpetuate it.


    "It is an art form."


    "Ridiculous," said Felix. "Revenge is never a justifiable decision. Justice must be carried out impartially by authority figures.


    "A King who would not burn his wife at stake for adultery could never be a real King."


    "It might be the end of the Kingdom," said Jahair.


    "I was not saying that it was an attainable concept," said Felix. "Of course, personal motivation is important. House Gabriel uses it to great effect.


    "But personal politics are something that should be avoided.


    "For reasons which by this point must seem all too obvious."


    "Hey Jehair!" came a call. "It''s me, Imogen!"


    Jehair closed her eyes sadly. "Not her again."


    William looked up and saw Imogen waiting by the village. She was waving and clad in formfitting violet clothes with a knife at her hip and a bow over one shoulder. Her body was very slim, with slight breasts. Though her hips were quite wide to compensate. Her face was fair and almost elven in appearance, but she had bright pink eyes with a mischievous gleam.


    "Farwa''s agent?" asked William.


    "Oh yeah, you," said Imogen. "Your name this time is uh..."


    "This time?" asked William.


    "Reincarnation thing," said Imogen. "I''m talking to the person behind your eyes."


    "William," said William.


    "Oh, okay," said Imogen. "So, uh, took a bit long with the healing out there. But I think we can use you."


    "His presence should buy us some time against Rius," said Jehair. "Or more."


    William said nothing, just pretended not to react. He wanted to observe events.


    "That depends," said Imogen. "Are you here by choice?"


    "I wear armor and a sword, do I not?" asked William.


    "That doesn''t mean you have a choice," said Imogen. "Lots of people think they have a choice until they want to do something their handler doesn''t want them to. Then they find out who owns them, the buffalo-headed morons.


    "Follow me; we''ve got a lot more people to heal here. Though I have to admit, you''ve got some seriously odd choices.


    "Last time, you were way more vicious.


    "I''ve never seen you so focused on healing people. Sometimes, you do it to show how kind and good you are. But this is way more extreme."


    "I am a Paladin," said William, bemused. "And do you know one another? And me?"


    "Yes," said Jehair. "I knew Imogen before she became a Goddess.


    "We have been longtime associates. And both of us have met you on several occasions."


    "I see," said William, not feeling particularly warm at this reunion. "My purpose is to defend people from evil. That includes diseases. And most Paladins don''t do it, so I use my powers to heal others wherever I can."


    "It''s also good tactics," said Felix. "Armies with William attached have a much higher survival rate. Both from diseases and wounds. So they do better on the battlefield."


    "That''s cleric talk if I''ve ever heard it," said Imogen, spinning a knife into the air and catching it. Then she turned toward the village. William wondered how such formfitting pants did not chafe her. Or how their violet color was not drenched in mud?


    Oh, right, Goddess. "Let''s go."


    They followed her. William knew he could not allow injured and sick people to go untreated. They were in the middle of a plague, after all.


    "What are you doing here, Imogen?" asked William, feeling an odd sense of familiarity.


    "Playing the game," said Imogen, balancing her knife on one finger. "Broke off from you a while ago because you got a little ruthless for my tastes. Hung out with some different heroes and came back here.


    "I show up for most heroes at some point, provided they''re my type."


    "And what is your connection with these events?" asked William.


    "I''m the Goddess of Thieves," said Imogen. "And right now, I''m stealing you."


    "Why is a Goddess of Thieves helping to destroy criminals?" asked William.


    "Thieves don''t like organized crime," said Imogen. "Organized crime takes all the fun out of things. You can''t make any daring escapes when everything is controlled.


    "It''s all the brutality of evil without any of the fun.


    "So I generally sew chaos for the greater good while stealing the Paladin''s wallets."


    They entered a town with stone structures and no surrounding wall. Many here seemed to be herding pigs. Imogen showed them to the sick and injured, and there were a lot of sick. People William asked about things told him stories of armed men heading up to the mountains. Others spoke of armed men moving up through the port for some time.


    "We often get escaped slaves from the plantations," said a man. "Sometimes they carry diseases our healers are unable to cure effectively."


    "And what use do you put them to?"


    "We have any number of tasks we assign them. Every man in this place must pull his weight," said the man.


    More news came in.


    People reacted with indifference that Rius had been restored. Things had been getting bad long before Reg took power. Many doubted things would get any better.


    There had been several revelations of major corruption by numerous officials by Rius. In addition, a great deal more illegal goods have been found by Tanith and piled in front of the keep. She had someone explain where it was found and who their business associates were.


    "Why?" asked Imogen.


    "If I had a guess, Tanith has decided Rius will not make enough killing of the guilty for her tastes," said William. "So she''s blowing the lid on how corrupt everything had gotten under Reg to force his hand.


    "Frankly, I know that Rius knew of some of this long before Reg. But I expect he''ll hang Arkan''s officials and leave his own in place. Or he may let them escape into the night.


    "In any case, there is likely to be a complete breakdown in the slave trade for a while. With all the normal facilities seized, the next shipment has nowhere to arrive. Their business partners are gone, possibly hanging even now. Especially since Kata seems to be making common cause with Rius."


    "So they''ll have to sell to alternative markets at a loss," noted Imogen. "What about the shipment after?"


    "It will be much smaller, should the truce between House Gabriel and Calisha hold," said Felix. "Without a war, there is little opportunity to take slaves."


    William considered this. "If the slave trade in this region breaks down, the new plantations will have no means to till their fields. The land will simply sit there, lying fallow and growing into wildlands. And the longer it goes on, the more expensive it will be."


    "Even if they can get new slaves, they must repair and maintain the property. And while the land stands empty, others will move into it."


    "So, what are we going to do?" asked Imogen.


    "I''m going to go to every village in these places by the fastest route and heal everyone," said William. "Once done, I will suggest that they release their slaves to do as they will."


    "I think this is an opportunity to get some treasure," said Imogen with a smile.


    "What does money have to do with anything?" asked William.


    "Treasure to a heavenly being can mean many things," said Imogen.


    "You have larger problems," said William. "I''ve seen these sicknesses before; I treated some of them in Artarq. How villagers are there like this one, and how many others need healing?"


    "Other villages need it," said Jahair. "Not all of them are with us, and the satyrs may also have need."


    "There are satyr clans?" asked William, raising an eyebrow.


    "Many satyrs who escape have no interest in this place," said Imogen. "They prefer to raid and plunder and often carry out operations to free slaves or kill guards. Some of the villages sell them wine purchased from Tavish. He relays it from Khasmir, and we trade it for satyr slaves taken in battle by the clans.


    "Others simply transport it along trade routes to bypass the normal customs."


    "You have a population of escaped slaves, and you sell slaves," said William.


    "We used to," said Uther, who had moved out to this place since Ascorn. In fact, he seemed to be the one running it. However, he was now holding a hammer and had slightly trimmed his beard. "It provided a reason for Atravain and the nobility to not wipe us out. For my part, I find the practice abhorrent and do not allows it. But some do not.


    "Though in recent times, they have stopped buying it as much. Someone seems to have organized these satyrs who aren''t selling their own as much. We''d had to fight off several attacks, probing strikes."


    "Why not farm in the first place?" asked William.


    "That land in this region is no good for crops for the most part," said Uther. "The rough ground does not yield much. Otherwise, Lady Atravain should have expanded her plantation here.


    "We know of crops and roots that can grow to avoid starving. But our chief business has always been a refuge for those with nowhere else to go.


    "We had done some great business with the Babarassians, actually. Though we had a skirmish with some crews that tried throwing their weight around."


    William thought about his next question carefully. "How long have they been associated with Tavish Kern?"


    "Some five years now," said Uther. "He came initially as a representative of Arkan Lantan, with support from the Body Runners. Arkan is the person we rely on, as his influence prevents Atravain and others from going after us."


    "And in return, you supply his agents?" asked William.


    "Supplying is most of our business," said Uther. "You see, Arkan Lantan has promised the people here funding and lets us continue as we are. In return, we don''t question anything that happens. Sometimes Tavish takes shipments through here; other times, it''s Lamech. We take the money and look the other way.


    "They ship wine from Seathorius, steel from the Nakmar. Also, textiles and runestones from Gel Carn and many other things. All of those operations are headed by former slaves whom Arkan employs. They have an outpost here and set things up.


    "In addition, they give...


    "Protection."


    "Protection?" asked William, having a feeling he knew the answer.


    "Yes, from the bandits and outlaws who forced so many towns into selling," said Uther. "Though they are very well-trained bandits. Satyrs, bowmen, and even a few former nobles.


    "It''s gotten even worse these days, though."


    "Why?" asked William.


    "The bandits used to do good sport in the Wolven Forest of Gel Carn," said Uther. "However, Adrian Wrynncurth, who has authority, gave the land to Telix, a wolf demon. Telix terrorized the bandits into fleeing. Many died or were forced into the plains. Sir Frederick and the halflings rode them down.


    "The rest fled into other parts and swelled the numbers of those in the north. And, as more villages were forced outlands, there was a ready supply of armed, dangerous men."


    "Many of those in these villagers were among them. We just want to be left alone to mind our affairs, and Arkan lets us do that. Others took up with Reg, but there are some...


    "They were bad from the start and only got worse after losing what they had. And every time they do a raid, they make others worse. See, bandits go after people who can''t defend themselves, and Atravain and her friends buy them out."


    William paused. "When did you begin working here?"


    "Well, I was working out here for a time but went into Ascorn," said Uther. "Caught a disease, got robbed blind. Then I got healed and came back here to finish things up."


    "And why has this disease gone unchecked?" asked William.


    "The Healer''s Guilds," said Uther. "Diseases get worse the more they spread, and the more they spread, the worse they get. Before the Healer''s Guild arrived, this disease would have been stopped cold. Or at least slowed down.


    "Now, though, it''s everywhere."


    William nodded. "Well then.


    "We have a crisis. Could you send word to all the surrounding places that I will heal anyone who needs it for free? Just get them to me.


    "Jehair, what of the Healer''s Guild itself.


    "I wonder if they did not introduce this plague deliberately. Think about it; they can heal themselves and their families. If they shut down all the healers and make themselves the only option..."


    "They could tyrannize over us completely," said Uther. "I''ve seen a lot of that already in this life."


    "No, they couldn''t," said Felix. "If the disease got bad enough, it would completely destroy all business. Once that happened, you''d see a general collapse. Or at least chaos breaks out, and communications fall apart."


    "To what end?" asked William. "Someone must have known the results of this kind of pandemic?"


    "Perhaps they wish to take advantage of the chaos to advance their plans," said Felix.


    "Wouldn''t the disease kill them?" asked William.


    "Diseases do not harm elves," said Jehair. "We do not suffer them as mortals do.


    "And many elven nations would be only too happy to see such death as a means of revenge. King Faras of the Wood Elves has long been bitter. You must also consider that demons are not weakened.


    "Dragons, too, might cause such a thing."


    "There''s no proof of that," said William. "The Healer''s Guild could not have cared what happened as long as they made a short-term profit. I find it more likely the person who initiated this plan expects to live in luxury.


    "And dragons, I assure you, have better things to do with their time. Adrian Wrynncurth is one of the richest men in the world. His relatives have comparable wealth. He keeps it by having good relations with the nobility.


    "This kind of tactic is beneath him and makes no sense."


    "What do you intend to do, William?" asked Uther.


    "For a start, we must find every potential source of healing that is being restricted," said William. "Once we have all of them, we can plan to use them.


    "The Guild itself, however, should be destroyed. We have more than enough justification."


    "We do know many of their locations," said Uther.


    "We can''t destroy the Guild," said Jehair quickly.


    "Why not?" asked Imogen with a smile.


    "It will take time to get all those healers back to work. Some of them won''t be able to treat the disease," said Jehair quickly. "Some are probably dead or gone from the Healer''s Guild, and some are likely part of it.


    "We have to use them before we destroy them.


    "Who is their support? Even if they have funding from Antion, they must work with local elites. Find the Lords who support them, and you can use them as a channel to destroy your real enemy."


    "We''d never be allowed a meeting with them," said Uther. "We''re just uneducated commoners to them."


    "Not all of us," said William. "Jehair, after we''re done here, I want you to lead me to some regional castles, and along the way, I will heal everyone you can. Once I arrive, I will arrange for them to take our side."


    "And how does the serpent intend to take over the entire country of Antion?" asked Jehair. "By asking nicely?"


    "Why not?" asked William. "And who says anything about taking place over. I''ve no ambitions in that direction at all.


    "Uther, if I were you, I would start planning to break from these criminals. Talk to all your friends and contacts. You have to come up with a means to separate yourself from them. Otherwise, you''ll be cut loose and made a scapegoat by someone else.


    "You need to save yourselves."


    Uther nodded.


    "Where''s Imogen?" asked Felix.


    No one knew or could say when she''d left. William had a bad feeling about this.

 Chapter 142 - Fourteen: Left Behind

    Tanith Telus was not happy.


    The cover had been nice a while ago with serene waves and blood-soaked rock. Not anymore, since it had been cleaned up and the ships seized. Omar had only been allowed one, which she had not stripped of anything but slaves. Personally, she didn''t see why he ought to be let go, but William seemed to think he was honor-bound to do it.


    A hundred Babarassian defenders were dead here, two or three of their own. It was a pretty good trade, and that made it boring. Farasa had used them like glorified executioners, ruining the fun.


    "I don''t see why we had to let those Babarassian pigs go," said a man, who had joined in with her forces.


    "This is all their fault anyway," said another one.


    "Silence you," said Tanith. "It''s a matter of honor and principle.


    "William decided that we were honor-bound to do it, so that''s as far as the discussion goes! Or do I have to enforce some discipline?"


    "They''re just going to come back," said the man.


    "It doesn''t work that way," said Kata.


    "Then why don''t you tell us how it works, you dark-skinned-" began a man.


    "Enough," said Tanith. "We needed someone to bring word on what happened here to the Babarassians. Emile isn''t enough, and now they''ll be running scared.


    "If we let Omar live with some of his treasure, that sends a clear message and gives us an opening to negotiate later. Only an idiot fights a war on two fronts, and we might have to. This is how House Gabriel operates. You negotiate a settlement with someone who is reasonable. Then you crush the people who won''t work with you.


    "We''ve already smashed these Babarassians; we''ve got more important things to deal with."


    "What about the colonies?" asked Kata. "The ones in my land."


    What was with Kata and her people? Tanith considered how she would react if the Babarassians attempted such a thing. But it wouldn''t matter because they would fail miserably. If anything, Tanith thought she''d be angry at her people for being so weak.


    But Kata wouldn''t like that response.


    "They aren''t here, and we can''t deal with them now," said Tanith. "If Elranor says you''ll get your people back. You''ll get your people back. Omar being dead won''t change anything.


    "But, if he''s alive and advocates for cutting and running? That might help. He''s more useful to House Gabriel alive, and we gave our word, so we''d have to do it anyway. You have to keep your promises."


    "Well, what if-" began Kata.


    "No Kata," said Tanith. "There is no arguing with that.


    "Either your word is worth something, or it isn''t. William believed that his promise to Emile applied to Omar. Omar made the smart decision, so that is the end of it. Now, keep control of things here.


    "And any of you who know about this, I want you to go to the Paladins. Tell them everything about the gangs. Everything. The operation is moving into their area of influence now that House Gabriel is gone.


    "That means if they find any dirty little secrets you didn''t tell them about, you''ll have a problem. Talk to them, get any plunder you''ve made official, and help them do whatever they want. Farwa is smart, and she''s about to have unrestricted power, or I''m a fool.


    "We deal with her, or we deal with King Andoa later."


    The men shuddered. King Andoa''s reputation proceeded him. No one wanted to be on his bad side, a saint or not.


    Then she sighed and walked back down the tunnel, now lit by torches. She felt very low and mournful, and even more so now. It got like this after a bloodletting sometimes.


    William had scolded her, rejected her, and sent her off to Rius. She''d known she''d messed up, but she ought to have gone with him. Anyway, she had to return with Kata to where the Paladins had been dismissed. Only Farwa remained, sitting on a box and speaking with Suran.


    There was an argument going on. Suran was arguing and motioning to the ships. Farwa seemed irritated with him, but Tanith knew it was no good asking. So she listened in to one side; Paladins were bad at this.


    "I just think we should be checking with Rius," said Suran. "This is his city. The rules are clear."


    "The rules mean nothing in this context Suran," said Farwa, who looked tired. "Ascorn is in complete chaos. We have a mission, and consulting Rius could compromise or delay us.


    "Even if he isn''t involved, he''d be a liability." sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "We can''t just abandon the chain of command when it doesn''t suit us," said Suran firmly. "We''re in his command right now. Technically."


    "You are in my command," said Farwa. "And by the authority invested in me by Lord Dunmoore, we are operating on our own counsel.


    "We can''t risk it. Am I clear?"


    Suran went silent for a moment.


    "Yes, ma''am," said Suran.


    Tanith sighed, feeling more depressed and despondent by the moment. She doubted she''d sleep very well tonight. Why did she get these moods where she''d feel good and then suddenly feel bad?


    Was it because William was gone?


    "Why is William sending me off?" muttered Tanith, looking to the rough seas. It was good to see them splashing. "I could go with him a bit. And why do I have to pretend I will betray him anyway? It''s not like anybody who knows me would ever think I''d betray him.


    "I mean, come on, I''m a knight, and he''s the son of my Lord. Never going to happen."


    "Ugh, this thing is heavy," said a voice.


    Tanith looked up and saw a set of boxes being carried out by Furbearers. Why had they not been shown to William? And why only now when attention had fallen elsewhere. Kata was there and turned to find Tanith before her.


    "Tanith, you''re back," said Kata


    "What''s in the box?" asked Tanith.


    "Some documents," said Kata. "Shipping records one of my lieutenants wanted." Incriminating documents? That could be useful. "So, where''s William?"


    "Gone," muttered Tanith. "You won''t see him anymore. And there wasn''t anything I could do. Jehair and Felix also went out into the wilds and never came back."


    "Oh, I see," said Kata, going white. What was her problem?


    "...What?" asked Tanith, surprised.


    "Nothing, nothing at all," said Kata, looking afraid. It was a good look.


    "You should take this stuff to Amenos," said Tanith.


    "Why?" asked Kata. "I thought the Dust Elves were on the same side as House Gabriel."


    "Side is sort of vague, but yeah, more or less," said Tanith. "If Amenos gets this, we can use it later.


    "William''s orders."


    "His..." Kata halted and raised a hand. "What are you... But you just said... You said you killed him."


    Fighting William seemed appealing, but killing him? Never. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Kata. Do you really think I could take all three at once without a scratch? And do so fast enough that nobody noticed? Plus, I''d have to move the bodies or take them out far enough away that no one would notice.


    "William is wearing heavy, signature armor. And Jehair has friends all over who know this place better than me. Plus, it''d be very easy to figure out who''d have the opportunity and ability to take them out.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "Although what motive you could give is beyond me."


    "Oh, thank death," said Kata.


    "You''re welcome," said Tanith.


    "So what is William''s plan?" asked Kata, looking at Tanith.


    "At present?" asked Tanith. "He doesn''t think Rius has been honest with us. William is afraid that he might have been part of this operation. So he wants me to make myself out as having questionable loyalty or something.


    "Really seems like a weak plan, but not my problem. My problem is making it work. I mean, whoever going believe I''d stab William in the back?"


    "Believe it or not, a lot of people," said Kata.


    Tanith blinked. "... You''re serious?"


    "Well, you''re always talking about how you like killing people," said Kata. "And you had an argument with William earlier where he chewed you out, so-"


    "Just because I like killing people doesn''t mean I''d betray my friends!" said Tanith. What was wrong with her. "Never mind, this can work in my favor. Help me bring this out to Amenos, will you? Where is he?"


    "He has set up operations at the Steel Arm. But the Paladins are there," said Kata.


    "Oh good, you can trust them," said Tanith.


    "But you said not to trust anybody," said Kata.


    "You can trust Elranor. The Paladins are operating as extensions of Elranor''s will," said Tanith. "Otherwise, they would not be Paladins."


    "How do we know they aren''t being deceived?" asked Kata. "They''ll surely bring news of the documents right to Rius since he''s the legitimate Lord."


    Tanith considered that and thought she was right. "Well, what do you suggest instead?"


    "We should keep the trunk on my ship, the one you gave me," said Kata. "And we ought to wait for the cover of night before going out to it. If we go out with the trunk now, everyone will see us and wonder what we are doing.


    "Someone is sure to figure out, or at least guess near enough that they''ll demand an explanation."


    "Haven''t you been taking plunder?" asked Tanith.


    "No," said Kata. "Why would we? Looting and pillaging are wrong."


    Kata was weird. "You are new, aren''t you?


    "The money here is fair game. They were your enemies, and you killed them fairly. You get to take what you want."


    "Well, I don''t want any of this," said Kata, motioning to other boxes. "What am I going to use it for? It''s just a bunch of metal circles you people obsess over. You can''t take it with you when you die."


    "Buying weapons and armor so you can kill the Babarassians," said Tanith. "Purchasing back the enslaved and sold people before you got here. Purchasing the services of stonemasons to teach your people how to build fortifications. Educate yourself in culture and history that you might learn from both, and rule wisely. Purchasing and creating great works of art to enhance the lives of your people. Paying off unexpected expenses that could otherwise be the pretext for an invasion. Purchasing gifts and proper attire when you go to visit neighboring lands." She took a breath. "Purchasing goods and services from merchants. Hiring mercenaries to assist in wars you aren''t qualified for. That and providing the funding necessary to send your agents long distances. Funeral expenses for the fallen. Also, providing worthy sacrifices to the gods in life and repairing structures. Hiring the services of specialists who can perform jobs you can''t. Buying information from abroad. Bribing enemy agents. Paying ransom for captured warriors, so the enemy doesn''t execute-"


    "Okay, fine, so it''s pretty useful before you die," said Kata. "We''ll take it with us. What now?"


    "I''d also take the ships in the cove," said Tanith. "They''ll be pretty useful for a getaway; as for what now, you''ve won a decent victory here. You''ve gotten back some of your kidnapped people. And you have a ship to get them out.


    "You could probably head back to your old lands, though I''d ask Amenos for some seamen to help. I''ll put in a word for him. On the other hand, you could try to get back the people who have already been taken." She didn''t need them anyway.


    "Do you think we can actually do that?" asked Kata.


    "Well, a direct flight would never work," said Tanith. "The cargo has been shipped, and they won''t give it up, whatever law or honor says. Your prisoners know what is happening here and could ruin Rius'' reputation if he has a chance to talk.


    "So Rius will want him back.


    "You could bargain with him to try and buy back your people. Just don''t make it a threat, and wait to give them up until you have a guarantee with witnesses. Make sure the witnesses aren''t in his pocket. Amenos would be good; Dust Elves are big on their word.


    "But you''ll also want someone of similar rank. Ordinarily, William would be a good choice, but he''s away. I''m around the same level as Rius, and there might be some Paladins.


    "I''ll get his word in public, so everyone will know if he lies," said Kata.


    "It doesn''t work like that," said Tanith, leaning against the side of the boat. "Look, the word of a noble is worth a lot. A few commoners say they saw what they saw is not worth nearly as much as Rius. Sure, everybody in Ascorn will know, but Rius can just attribute it to hearsay if he decides to cheat you.


    "Also, circumventing the system will make all the other nobles uneasy. Most of the people out here are neutral to you at best. Start deviating from how things are supposed to be done without a good reason. You''re going to alienate some of them."


    At that moment, a Furbearer with brown hair tied up above his head came forward. He was shorter than Kata and had an axe by his side. "Kata?"


    "What is is, Sokar?" asked Kata.


    "Lord Rius is here," said Sokar.


    Kata looked panicked.


    "Well, we''re going to have to meet him, then," said Tanith.


    "What do I do?" asked Kata.


    Tanith bit her lip. "Leave this to me.


    "You stand in the background and speak only when spoken to. You''re better off having Rius think you''re a complete nonentity. He won''t take any countermeasures if he doesn''t think you have any will.


    "Assuming he''s actually acting in bad faith.


    "For all we know, he''s come to offer to ransom all your countrymen from the plantations. As a show of goodwill."


    "It could happen," said Sokar.


    Tanith turned to see Lord Rius approaching with armed guards. The streets were almost clean by now, and a lot of effort had reduced the smell. The piles of burning refuge had died down, and there were ashes. And most of the bodies had been given a proper burial. Also, the streets were a bit clearer, with many gangs dead or moving off.


    There is no sign of Aras, though.


    Moving to meet Rius, she nodded.


    "Lady Telus, you''re here at last. Is this the leader of the Furbearers?" asked Rius.


    "Yes, this is Princess Kata," said Tanith, motioning to her. "She''s one of the main reasons we could subdue the Babarassians as quickly as she did.


    "Her people have been enslaved and sold here illegally by them."


    "I see," said Rius. "It is unfortunate to see how much damage Reg has done. I shall be certain to set things to right. How many of your people are here, Princess Kata?"


    "My people..." Kata gave a very good impression of nervousness. "The Babarassians slavers seized us. They said that they were acting with your authorization. If William hadn''t saved my ship, we''d have ended up in the same place.


    "We owe you great thanks."


    "You need not thank me," said Rius. "I''m afraid we''ve all had the same problems. I was a prisoner in my house until recently.


    "Tell me, where is Sir Gabriel? I do not note him among your number."


    "William is gone," said Tanith sadly. "He went off into the wilderness, and I don''t think he''ll be coming back here for a long time." Another wasted opportunity for bloodletting.


    "Oh, I see," said Rius, not sounding sad. "I was hoping to thank him for his assistance. Tanith, walk with me, will you? We need to discuss events."


    "I believe that I should-" said Tanith.


    "I must ask you to be patient," said Rius. "This is a Harlenorian matter."


    Tanith did so, and Rius looked at her.


    "So, Tanith, perhaps you could explain William''s sudden disappearance and why it happened?" asked Rius, smiling.


    "William wants to get to Gel Carn," said Tanith with a shrug. "He''s already behind schedule as it is. Do you really think he''d waste his time healing all these commoners if it wasn''t his house on the line?"


    "You sound bitter," noted Rius, touching her shoulder.


    "Is it wrong?" asked Tanith, dearly wanting to stab him. It would be so easy. "I come out here to escort him; he stirs up the embers. Then he leaves me to finish and hold the Furbearer''s hands. Ever since I joined back with him, we''ve been hunting demons or healing people. Hardly any plunder or rewards.


    "There are other things I''d rather be doing."


    "Such as?" asked Rius with a smile.


    "Plundering the riches of Calisha or Babarassia might be a start," said Tanith, looking west. That was true.


    "Well, I imagine you may get your wish at this stage," said Rius. "Lord Dunmoore will be here soon, and I plan to ready a fleet. Our intention is to retake the land that the Babarassians stole.


    "There should be a full campaign with potential for both our houses to make an immense profit."


    "Then why isn''t Kata here? She is the authority on the subject?" asked Tanith.


    "Pay that savage no mind," said Rius. "You''ve indulged her so far, but her people and their fate are of no concern in the grand scheme. The nobility is called to look beyond such matters and make decisions for the good of all.


    "It is a high and lonely destiny, but once you learn to live with it."


    "Kata could still be a problem," said Tanith, shaking her head. "If her people decide to pick a fight rather than go back to how things were, they could get sympathy from commoners. It could make things difficult."


    "Do you have a solution?" asked Rius.


    "Kata could also prove useful," said Tanith, looking her way. Kata was speaking with Sokar in private. Their gaze met. "Her people know their own lands well, better than us. With their knowledge of the terrain, we could take down the Babarassians more easily. Unfortunately, it would also divide many of their soldiers up as guides.


    "So they won''t be able to pose a threat."


    "Do you think they are a threat?" asked Rius.


    "I think they''ll fight rather than accept an overlord," said Tanith. "They''ve got a taste of blood and power, and they like it. Kata is smart for one of its kind.


    "Using them at least gets them out of your city, makes them useful, and helps Dunmoore or whoever is in charge."


    "I see," said Rius. "You raided a Babarassian fleet, didn''t you?"


    "William led us in," said Tanith.


    "Were there any prisoners? Any documentation?" asked Rius keenly.


    "Well, there were," said Tanith. "But William left the illiterate Furbearers in charge of their cells. And I''m here talking with you and could be delayed, while Kata has no idea how these things work.


    "Give them a day and... well, these things have a way of working themselves out."


    Rius considered it. "Then there is no sense in causing a stir.


    "We''d best prepare to meet Lord Dunmoore. I will be relying on you a great deal for what comes next."


    "William ordered me to put myself at your disposal," said Tanith. "Until I receive orders to the contrary, I''m your knight."


    Rius smiled. "Thank goodness."


    Now was where things got dicey.

 Chapter 143 - Fifteen: The Plantation Castles

    After Imogen disappeared into the shadows, William went into a flurry of activity.


    Praying to the land, the spirits, Laevian, and Elranor, he moved as fast as he could from village to village. He healed everyone he could each time, suggested they free their slaves and moved on. He spoke to those there as they had Uther and learned much.


    Most of the time it was not interesting.


    After a few minor skirmishes with bandits, Jehair began to lead them in zig-zags and proved to know the land well. Soon enough, it began to rain. Eventually, William took shelter beneath some trees. There, he watched the water pour down on the tree branches. The trees were much larger here and the earth richer, so you couldn''t see the treetops.


    It almost seemed like an old elven realm, like were in the tales. But no sign of any fairy or elf was found. William guessed it was a remnant of some ancient town burned out by Anoa the Bright. Or perhaps some other human warlord.


    Elven ruins had a way of staying erect for long ages, for they did not fall apart. Villages did not scavenge them for stones, and nature did not eat away at them. It was one of the things that reminded men of how the world had been. Once or twice, they saw druids and heard tales of wild animals growing in number.


    "Where is all this rain coming from?" asked William.


    "The Flower Maiden is testing us," said Jehair, sitting across from him and munching on some bread. "With enough time, she can shift the trees to channel the winds. So she is doing it now."


    "Why?" asked William.


    "Who can say?" asked Jehair. "Perhaps she wishes to stop or slow us for her own purposes. Or it may be that the Flower Maiden simply desires to test your resolve and will. She is not by nature a talkative deity."


    The rain was pouring harder now. The ground turned to mud.


    "This is no good, William," said Felix. "We can''t possibly heal every village here, not like this. The Paladin Order will already be heading out, and we''ve got to go on. We''ll be able to save the lives of the villages on the way."


    William looked into the cave and saw vines growing up the walls. Moving up to one of them, he saw a flower upon it. Reaching forward, Jehair caught his hand. "That may not be wise."


    William nodded. He remembered the sight of bones uncovered by Massacre''s flames. That had been a near thing; even Kiyora had been taken in by their scent.


    The rain slackened, and Jehair led them on a more direct path. They did as they''d done before, and told stories of Ascorn. In return, they heard other stories of slave escapes and robberies. Jehair kept giving William curious glances, and he wondered why.


    "We''re near legal territory," said Jehair over a warm fire beneath the stars. "I should warn you, slavery is a way of life here. I should not make any bold declarations of the practice as inherently evil."


    "Why would I do that?" asked William.


    "You strike me as an abolitionist," said Jehair.


    "I''m not," said William. "Slavery isn''t evil. It''s just not an effective means of utilizing subordinates."


    "You may think your words somewhat naive later," said Jehair.


    William wondered how she could come to that conclusion. The storehouse had been bad enough, but surely there were better ones. "I''ve seen a great deal already."


    "...Wonderful," said Felix, checking his pack.


    "What is it?" asked William.


    "Our little side adventures have caused us to run low on money earlier than expected," said Felix. "We''ll never make it to Gel Carn at this rate." They''d bought supplies in various towns, and it had added up.


    "Perhaps Imogen stole some," said Jehair.


    "No," said Felix. "I''ve kept careful track of it and put wards on the purse."


    "We could travel faster," mused William.


    "Faster than this?" asked Jehair with a slight smile. "You''d run us ragged if you did so. I was already surprised at the speed at which you moved. Most do not keep such a pace."


    "Our first adventure saw us dashing from danger into danger," said William. "It set the pace for all our other adventures. And we worked with Tanith during the Khasmir campaign, and she keeps a relentless pace.


    "We''ll seek food and shelter with the villages we heal when we need rest. We''ll ask for it without expectation and request supplies. That should save on money."


    "What about inns?" asked Jehair.


    William blinked. "...Why would we be staying at an inn?"


    "Most nobility do," said Jehair. "Do you mean to say you don''t stay at inns?"


    "I''ve never even slept in one," said William. He frowned. "It''s too expensive. I wish I knew where Massacre was. She ought to have met us by now. What could be taking her?"


    "She is a servant of Typhos," said Felix. "Perhaps Massacre has some other business in these parts on her behalf."


    "Perhaps," said Jehair.


    It rained again, and they were shut down several times between villages. Finally, the ground became muddy, and the path was nearly impossible. Soon, they had to wait for it to dry and find more water. The woods led them astray several times, and they had near misses with satyrs.


    Once, Jehair halted and stooped low by some hoofprints. The roots of many trees had been eaten up, and there was much destruction.


    "What is it?" asked William.


    "Wild hogs," said Jehair. "There have been an increasing number of them lately.


    "Traditionally, the lords hunt them.


    "They have become a plague on the environment. They break fences and devour crops in outlying farmsteads."


    "Wild hogs as a threat to Harlenorians?" asked William, raising an eyebrow.


    At that moment, a huge, bristling thing leaped from the underbrush, tusks rushing at him. William raised his shield and was slammed head-on. The beast bowled him over, and his sword was knocked from his hand. Both went down to the mud, and the tusks knocked his breath from him. His armor stopped it, and his hands grabbed it.


    Throwing it to one side, Felix struck it with his sword. Yet the pig howled in anger at the cut and went at him. Then, darting away into the shadow of a tree, the boar went for William. Jehair was assailed by an even large hog, darting away while slashing at it.


    As to hog came William took his sword in two hands and smote the beast on the neck.


    The blade cut deep but not deep enough. And it kept charging, so his armor sent him knocked hard against a tree. The beast wheeled around and rushed at him in rage, and William brought his sword down to hit it head-on. The blow crushed into the skull and smashed its brain. But it charged on, and he ducked low as it sailed and smashed against a tree. It fell down and lay still.


    Jehair, meanwhile, kept slashing at the pig as it attacked. Little by little, she whittled away at its flesh. Blood flowed more and more as it became ever more enraged. Its tusks smashed the bark off a tree while its eyes flared red.


    Finally, it smashed into a tree and halted.


    Turning with pure hate, it limped forward, bleeding. But Felix stabbed it again, and William hit it once more. At last, it slumped dead.


    "You were saying?" asked Jehair in amusement.


    "As I said," said William, wiping off his blade. "Wild hogs are no threats to Harlenorians." And he controlled the pain of his bruised ribs.


    The pain of their wounds was long in healing.


    "I know that roar," said William. "But it is far off."


    "Should we head for it?" asked Felix.


    "No need; Massacre can find us well enough on her own," said William. "For now, we''ll take a meal early so we don''t have to later and rest while we can.


    "Jehair, take us to the nearest village."


    "There are not very many villages left this way," said Jehair. "Most who dwell here are expert tradesmen or enforcers for the Plantation Castles.


    "All of the regional farmers were thrown off."


    "Then take me to the nearest equivalent," said William.


    Then Felix grasped William by the shoulder. "William." And he pointed.


    William looked up and saw Tavish Kern and Lamech walking together in a company. They were heading toward a tall castle. Near it was encamped a small army, with the banner of the Paladin Order flying distant above it. It symbolized a hand clutching a sword writhed in lightning bolts. There was also the banner of House Marn and many others.


    "So Farasa has led us here," said William.


    "Give the order, William," said Felix, taking his sword in hand.


    "Not yet," said Jehair. "We can use them and follow them to their contacts."


    "We can take it from their corpse," said Felix. "They must have identification."


    "Perhaps they are from one of those houses," said Jehair. "Lord Dunmoore will no doubt be in the castle of Lady Atravain. It seems someone has come expecting a real battle. Or a larger campaign."


    The castle was very tall indeed and not all that wide and of gray stone. The spires were high above them, and a banner was flying above. It showed a deer leaping. A deer was on the road, and Tavish was watching it with interest. He seemed to be sketching it while Lamech stood guard.


    So, William stepped into sight and moved toward them. Lamech looked up in surprise and set a hand to his sword, while Tavish looked disappointed. The deer had leaped away from others standing nearby.


    "Greetings to you," said William.


    "William Gabriel, I presume," said Tavish Kern. "You know me?"


    "We passed one another on the way in Ascorn," said William.


    Tavish looked to Lamech warily, then back to William. "You showing up was common discussion. A lot of people banked on you, shutting Reg''s operations down."


    "I should be flattered," said William wryly. "At present, I am trying to handle the plague that is spreading throughout this place. To whom would I speak for permission?"


    "Dunmoore or Atravain, I guess," said Tavish, adjusting his hair with a laugh. "Atravain is up in the fortress over there, and Dunmoore has her forces at rest now. Paladins have a nebulous kind of authority.


    "Why do you care?"


    "Do you want to live in a realm where everyone is dying?" asked William.


    "No, probably not," said Tavish.


    "This one is dangerous," said Lamech.


    "I know," said Tavish before looking to William. "So, what happens now?"


    "The Lord Rius is trying to make you take the full blame for what happened to the Furbearers," said William. "The Babarassians believe you cheated them. If they do not withdraw their forces, I expect Rius will use Dunmoore to crush them.


    "The Furbearers have become his ally."


    Tavish looked to Lamech, then William. They didn''t trust eachother. "Alright, what is this exactly? A shakedown? Or are you just blustering?"


    "Well, someone is likely to hang for this, and you seem the ideal scapegoat," said William. "Arkan is too far away, Rius is in a position of strength, and I only just arrived. I thought I might give you a chance to explain yourself."


    "Ah, so it''s going to be that kind of conversation, then," said Tavish, putting his sketchbook back into his bag. Then he put an arm near his dagger. "Fine then.


    "I''ll make this simple. Everyone is afraid of House Gabriel. You''ve destroyed the system of bribes and patronage that people use to keep control in Artarq. Once you did that, you started taking out the nobility and replacing them with people loyal to you.


    "You''ve been cutting deals with Baltoth, which hurt many pocketbooks.


    "The general consensus is that you''re trying to turn Artarq into your own kingdom. You already have major holdings in Brisgald, and Edmund Telus is loyal to House Gabriel. Gel Carn is still yours, and more and more people owe you big.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "I''m just a smuggler trying to look after his interests. I was asked to set up a network, and I did it. So I guess it''s my turn to ask you for an explanation."


    "I''m not sure I owe you one," noted William. "But, as you wish. The bribes and patronage system interfered with our ability to do our duty. Vast amounts of money were being embezzled, and malas operations were being disrupted.


    "As for systems of bribes and patronage, we refuse to pay people extra for doing their job.


    "The nobles we disinherited were given the means to regain their title. It was through political marriage to a replacement. And we disinherited them for rebellion." William looked to Lamech, who seemed to be judging both.


    "Which only happened because you shut down the system of bribes and patronage," said Tavish. "Giving you the perfect excuse to gain control. Seeking great justice has made you do exceedingly well out of things."


    "Corruption is corruption, regardless of the scale of it or how it is done," said William. "Lawful authority must be maintained."


    "Yeah, and what about the villages you came through here?" asked Tavish. "That only happened because of corruption. Atravain, up there in her high tower, forced people into homelessness. What she did was perfectly legal.


    "What does your lawful authority say about that?"


    "Legal codes are inferior reflections of the true moral law," said William. "No lawful man is obligated to follow any law that is evil in nature."


    "So you only have to follow the laws that suit them?" asked Tavish. "How convenient."


    "Well, obviously not," said William. "Only an idiot would disobey a heavily armed knight to his face. And people need only follow the laws that suit what they believe is right.


    "Likewise, the nobility must enforce the laws they believe are right. They abolish those that don''t. They must also follow them and fight for them if need be. Just as if ordinary people believe a law is unjust, they should rebel. They must force the nobles into submission."


    "You''re not serious," said Tavish. "Lamech, what would you say to that?"


    "A man who cannot keep control of the domain he rules deserves to lose it," said Lamech. "And a man who allows himself to be collared without resistance deserves his fate.


    "Weakness should be purged."


    "He is right," admitted William. "Evil thrives in its presence more effectively than the worst fatal flaws." This seemed to irritate Lamech for some reason. There was a sense of wicked vileness about him.


    Not all that important. William had known not to trust him from the start.


    "And what makes you think you won''t get a rebellion with that kind of mindset?" asked Tavish.


    "What makes you think you won''t get a rebellion here?" asked William. "Do you suppose those people you employ in those villages would submit to starvation if you did not? What would they have to lose?


    "From a certain perspective, you are an integral part of the system around us."


    Tavish nodded. "...Fair enough.


    "Lamech, take it easy. I''ll show our friend here where he wants to go.


    "The Calishan slave stays here."


    "Felix is a servant, but I shall respect your wishes," said William.


    Why did people always assume as much? The sun was high overhead, and an east wind blew through their hair.


    "You two will stay here with them while I handle this," said William to Jehair and Felix. "See what you can learn about recent events. Lamech, I believe you and Jehair are already acquainted."


    "We made our marks on one another," said Lamech, adjusting his sword.


    "Is this wise?" asked Felix.


    "I am in full armor, and he has only a knife," said William. "I don''t think someone who wanted me dead would choose this time and place for it."


    "He''s right," said Lamech. "I''d probably just poison you."


    William and Tavish moved to one side toward a series of buildings. As they did, William noticed Tavish and became relieved. So, he was concerned about Lamech as a subordinate.


    "You are associated with Arkan Lantan?" asked William.


    "Yeah, what about it?" asked Tavish.


    "I''m curious about the nature of your organization," said William.


    "Why?" asked Tavish. "You looking to make some money on the side?"


    "Nothing of the sort," said William. "But I think it would be very foolish to become involved in a situation I do not understand.


    "I know Arkan operates with royal approval, but I don''t receive reports on the subject."


    "Well, I''m not giving you one," said Tavish, nearing a large building.


    So he had some loyalty or at least feared being killed off. "As you wish.


    "So, when you willingly signed the Furbearers over to be enslaved by their own King, did you feel anything?"


    "Not really," said Tavish. "I wouldn''t have done it for revenge, but King Gavin wanted it done. So if it''s my royal duty, I make a lot of money by it, and they are my enemy...


    "What''s the problem? They aren''t really citizens of Harlenor."


    "They are people," noted William.


    "Right," laughed Tavish. "Explain to me why it''s worth selling a bunch of people as slaves to work plantations than to lay waste to villages. A lot of people get glorified for the latter."


    "Raiding villages is an act of war, conducted to weaken the enemy," said William. "And had you taken these slaves by war, I would have no argument.


    "However, what is being done to the Furbearers seems to me treachery. Princess Kata informs me that you were a guest in their house."


    "What about it?" asked Tavish. "It was the most effective way to get their numbers and the lay of the land. And anyway, the Furbearers have hardly fought back. Not effectively anyway."


    "Will!" cried a voice.


    William looked up and saw a boy running toward him. Then he realized he was a man much older than him. He wore a green cloak and brown and had a harp at his side.


    "Do not call me that, Anborn," said William.


    "You never had a problem with Tanith saying it," said Anborn.


    "Because Tanith is a better fighter and my oldest friend," said William. "She is close enough for the familiarity to be appropriate."


    "Oh, okay," said Anborn. "So it''s sort of a romantic thing."


    "Not at present," said William, knowing being offended would waste time. "What are you doing here?"


    "I don''t know anything about it," said Tavish.


    Anborn looked to Tavish, opened his mouth, and smiled as if playing some game. "Oh right, um, I''m sort of taking a walk. Before I get back to a position of really big authority."


    "My congratulations," said William. "What position did Edmund Telus give you?"


    "Oh, it''s sort of acting as the head of a trading post," said Anborn.


    "And what are you doing here?" asked William.


    "Well, it seems to run pretty well without me," said Anborn. "So I thought I might see how some of my old friends are doing. Some of them are mad at me."


    "What is it?" asked William, walking past.


    "Well, I sort of accidentally led them into an ambush by bandits," said Anborn.


    "And?" asked William.


    "I sort of let myself get captured," said Anborn. "But I seduced the bandit leader and convinced her to let them go. Although I guess they lost most of their money."


    "So you were useless to them," said William. "Anborn, why don''t you return to the trading post and do your job?"


    "Well, I figure I could go on adventures with you," said Anborn.


    "Anborn," said William, wondering why he was the adult here. "I''m going to cure plagued people. What skills exactly can you offer my quest?"


    "Well," said Anborn. "I can play the harp really well and sing."


    "Anborn, I have all of that too," said William.


    "Yeah, but I specialize in those things," said Anborn brightly.


    "Maybe so,," said William. "But my goal is a swift journey to Gel Carn without unnecessary detours. I don''t think you''d enjoy that kind of adventure. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Go back to the trade post."


    "But it''s boring," said Anborn. "I don''t know a thing about the numbers, and no one consults me on anything anyway. And no one there wants to hear music."


    "Anborn," said William. "You have a job to do.


    "Someone is counting on you to be at that Trade Post and contribute. If you can''t contribute, then stand still and watch. Observe what is done, ask questions, and learn how. It''ll be boring, but you''ll be glad you did it.


    "Knowing how these trade posts work could be the key to saving the world someday. You never know. You need to start taking responsibility, or you''ll never succeed your Father."


    "But I don''t think I''m cut out for rule," said Anborn.


    "It doesn''t matter," said William. "Your Father is counting on you to do all you can to be worthy of the position. Maybe he won''t find you worthy, and you''ll get lucky. But Tanith and Sunthred can only do some of this.


    "Tanith has been in a bad way since returning from the wars. They need your help. And the best way to help them is to learn, pay keen attention, and do what you can to help House Telus. You''ll have to start with small, minor responsibilities and minor good deeds.


    "But it''ll get easier over time.


    "Eventually, you''ll be able to do the thing you never want to do without blinking. I remember you always liked telling stories when I was younger. If you get started now, you might be the hero of one of those stories someday.


    "But you''ve got a late start.


    "So you''ve got to speed up."


    Anborn nodded. "Right, I won''t let you down."


    And he hurried off.


    "I have never seen anyone get through to him before," said Tavish.


    "Anborn is what I could have been," said William. "So I know where he is coming from.


    "He''s in for a nasty shock, though. Laziness pays off right now, but you stop being lazy sooner or later. And then you''ve got a bitter price to pay."


    "I wouldn''t know," said Tavish.


    On they went.


    "What is your connection to Imogen?" asked William suddenly.


    "She does whatever she wants," said Tavish.


    "And how are all these foreign gods moving about Antion freely?" asked William.


    "The God Triumvirate is done in these parts," said Tavish. "Or almost done. Nobody worships Elranor. Not for real; it''s all beautiful goddesses from afar, something like that.


    "Around forty years ago, the nobility, the church, and the merchants. They decided foreign gods were more profitable than Elranor, Laevian, and Barden. So they all cooperated to shut him out."


    "What is Imogen''s plan in all this?" asked William.


    "It''s a very... vague sort of thing," said Tavish. "She has this idea of creating a Thief King."


    "So a King, then," said William.


    Tavish laughed. "Nice retort, but no.


    "The whole idea of a Thief King is somebody who robs others in his Kingdom and is still a good king. The basic idea is that they control a place so corrupt that embracing organized crime is the best way to make it work.


    "But they''d have to be a good King too."


    "Such a thing is impossible," said William. "Stealing is wrong. Acceptable in extreme circumstances, but never consistently. And most situations where it is acceptable could be classified as plunder.


    "A thief can be a good person. But he cannot remain a good person indefinitely. Sooner or later, he''ll either die or be corrupted."


    "Doesn''t that apply to you, too?" asked Tavish.


    "I never claimed it did not," said William.


    At last, they came to a door in a large, two-story house that had yet to be painted or maintained. It was guarded by armed men. "We''re here. All the sick are being kept from the villages around here."


    "Hold on," said a guard. "This area is quarantined."


    "I am a Paladin of Elranor, and I am here to heal them," said William.


    Tavish blinked. "...I don''t believe it; you''re actually going in there. I didn''t; you''d be stupid enough to try. You know that place has a powerful plague demon in it, right?


    "They come into existence when things get bad enough. They form in places where the sick concentrate."


    "I have no choice," said William. "I am a Paladin of Elranor; my purpose is to heal people."


    "Nice knowing you," said Tavish. "Open the door."


    So Tavish stood back as William entered the room. Within, he was assailed by a haze of filth and the stink of rotting flesh. People lay about, nearly dead or worse, their eyes glazed and piled over one another. The sheer presence of it staggered it, and William nearly stepped back.


    Yet he raised his harp and played against it, and the music resounded throughout the room. As it did, however, it came back to him distorted and horrifying, and his skin crawled. The pain came over his body as sweat dripped under his armor. Yet he played on, and the people stirred, even as he put forth his power.


    Revealing, uncovering injuries, healing...


    And then, a figure horrifying to the eyes appeared swaying in a wind of rotting fumes. It rose from the corpses, unveiled as pale flesh and dark eyes. It chanted a speech of horror, selfish actions, betrayal, and unbroken chains. Flesh in filth was rotted as others turned away. Healers demanded coins and forced others to crime. Garments that had plague on them were given away as nobles counted gold from bribes.


    And the pain of William''s wounds flared up as he was forced back beneath the onslaught of darkness. He saw visions of trust betrayed, of women and children forced into dark coves. Meanwhile, those he deemed noble looked on. He, too, would succumb to plague in time.


    And as the thought was made plain, great black wings surrounded the demon, and darkness crept in. The sky itself faded around them as the wind died and the earth rotted. A clawed hand reached forward for his throat as the energies of evil surrounded it. But Tavish cut the hand with his dagger, and it was drawn back. The creature reeled away, only to arise now in new hatred.


    But William stayed with his music. He summoned memories of escape and trust between friends. Of battles fought and won against impossible odds. Of sails raised above the sea as brave men marched to defend their country.


    Yet, in turn, the vision came...


    Tanith Telus hacking through innocent women and children. And Argath Marn looked on in pride. Of Raynald De Chevlon speaking of looting and pillaging his allies in Khasmir. Of ''good'' men thrown out onto the streets and stripped of their lands. While others helped to enslave them.


    And he, who profited by this, now presumed to cast out his benefactor?


    But William scoffed at this.


    The demon had not been called up by his will or those around him. Efforts were underway to correct the error that had been made. And though the plague had been turned to good, that good could have been achieved another way. It was only made necessary by the failures of men. And those who were suffering from the plague were not guilty. It had been done to them by others.


    Innocent people were dying.


    And the plague was targeting them instead of the wicked. By what means could that be called justice if that was truly it?


    Back and forth, the power of healing and darkness went, and William seemed to hold the mastery for a moment. Yet the plague, in turn, drew from the minds of its victims new power.


    It was a plague.


    A creature that cared not for good and evil.


    It targeted the innocent and guilty alike where it could. Beyond the darkness of wickedness and good, it was outside good and evil.


    William laughed.


    "You contradict yourself," said William. "You who would use human evil as justification now declare it to have no hold on you! You are not a god, nor a child!


    "Why should you be afforded such protection?"


    Rage boiled within the disease, and it rose to new heists. The walls around them crumbled as the roof burned away. Starlight glimmered down upon them. As time passed, it blocked, covered by a great cloud, written in living darkness.


    "I know who you are," said the plague. "The heir of Anoa the Bright!"


    And then William''s flesh began to burn as the sick rose around him, chanting a song of misery and horror. Disease crept up his skin and agonized him, but he used his power first on himself to battle it off. Even as he did, more corruption came against him as the energies of darkness descended.


    He stood now alone beneath a clouded sky in a darkened world.


    All around him were enemies, and he was unworthy of living. And yet his song still played, not for hope, love, or friendship. But simply the hope that the world would change for the better. And if it did not, then he would fight nonetheless.


    He waited for a eucatastrophe, but none came. And the plague demon laughed.


    "Where are the prayers for salvation?" asked the plague. "Where is the service of the faithful?


    "Where are those seeking to aid the righteous? Where are the good people trying to do their part?


    "There are none.


    "Only scheming monsters practicing enlightened self-interest."


    "One can be both," said William, and light came from his harp.


    And he felt good works distant from the port and villages he visited. Conducted with ulterior motives and yet genuine in their own way. And even those works that were done purely for selfish reasons had value. They could start greater things; a paradise could be established in a week.


    All it would take would be for all men to do their part.


    "You will not seize my flesh from me, Paladin..." said the plague.


    "And what value does a rotting corpse have to you?" asked William.


    At last, their wills matched in a clash as the ground beneath their feet seemed to blacken. The winds swept in, but the plague demon pressed anyway. The starlight gleamed downward, illuminating the horrifying form. And from the trees, there came birds singing as day dawned again.


    Then, suddenly, with a fry of frustration, the demon reeled back. And finally, unwilling to depart the world or remain, it screamed in rage. "I YIELD!!"


    William''s harp shattered in his hands, and the strings slashed against his gauntlet. He stared at the harp, falling to his knees to pick up the pieces. A look made him see the plague demon fading into nothing like it had never been. It had gone back to whatever place had spawned it.


    Falling to his knees, he picked it up and looked around.


    The house was destroyed, but the people rose in new health.


    "...The Fortress of Plague is destroyed," said William.


    "To be honest," said Tavish. "I was rooting for the demon that time."


    "My harp is broken," said William bitterly.


    "What about it? You''re rich; get a new one," said Tavish.


    "I traded the Goldenwood Harp to get this thing," said William. "I played music for Massacre with it. I took it with me all this way, and it''s broken. It''ll never be the same."


    "Can''t you just get a new one?" asked Tavish.


    "Could you just get a new knife?" asked William before looking at the people. "Can these people''s friends and loved ones get new people? It''s not the same."


    "It is for them," said a guard. "We''ll take these back to the field-"


    "No, you will do nothing!" said William. "I did not battle a plague demon with a harp to save these people just so you could work them to death!


    "They''re all free!"


    "This is theft of Lady Atravain''s property," said a man.


    "It''s reincarnation," said William.


    "She still owns them," said the guard.


    "Then make the Healer''s Guild pay the difference," said William. "They haven''t been doing their one job. It''s only fair they compensate Lady Atravain for the loss.


    "I''ve just expended a lot of divine power here.


    "Putting these people in chains could be considered a grievous insult to any number of gods. And they aren''t all as forgiving as Elranor."


    "He''s got the point," said Tavish. "The slave trade is out anyway at this point. The entire market chain is broken. Why don''t you two get these guys a job and see if you can get them back to their families?


    "I''ve got the connections; talk to me later."


    "Fine," said the guard. "But you''ll have to answer to Lady Atravain."


    William nodded. "You men are good soldiers. You do your work well.


    "What about the Paladins? Haven''t they done something about this? Why has the plague festered to his level?"


    "They didn''t ask," said Tavish. "That''s the answer to pretty much everything these days."


    "Why don''t you ask, then?" asked William.


    "What?" said Tavish.


    "Talk to some of the Paladins and ask them to fan out and start healing people," said William. "You can tell them what I told you."


    "Why don''t you do it?" asked Tavish. "You''re the idealistic noble crusader."


    "I don''t think I can. For a start, I cannot possibly heal everyone in this place personally," said William. "I''m a rival, you see. If I go to them and ask them to start healing people, they might take it as a challenge or slight. At best, I could make them try for it if only to not be outdone.


    "But, at the same time, they''d give it up as soon as I left.


    "You, on the other hand, are a slaver. It''ll shame them if you request they start healing people, even for pragmatic reasons. They will realize that a mass pandemic is going on, and all they can think about is punishing the wicked."


    "What''s in it for me?" asked Tavish.


    "Has it occurred to you that these Paladins may run into one of your villages by doing this?" said William. "They may speak to the people there and learn about what Atravain''s has been doing.


    "It might be enough to make them realize the system''s problems.


    "And it will also bring you recognition as benefactors of the common man."


    "Or it might get us all killed," noted Tavish, looking to the witnesses.


    "No one is working with the Thieves Guild because they want to be among the nobility," said William. "You are involved because they must make use of you.


    "But you''ll also be the first person they sacrifice if they need a scapegoat. Now, what happens if it turns out you are a benefactor of the poor and exiled?"


    "It makes it much more inconvenient for my head to stop rolling," noted Tavish. "Which might buy me some time.


    "Alright, fine. I''ll talk to them about this, but this had better be worth it."


    "I can''t guarantee it will be," said William. "For you, at least.


    "Tavish, you have been of great help here, and at present, our interests align. However, I feel I should warn you:


    "We are not friends. The existence of your organization is an abomination to me. The fact that it has become necessary is an unforgivable oversight at best by the nobility.


    "The moment my alliance with you is no longer convenient, I will dispense with it. Our interests cannot coexist indefinitely.


    "One of us will eventually destroy the other if things remain as they are."


    Tavish laughed. "You have a practical mind, don''t you?"


    "I wouldn''t be a leader if I didn''t," said William. Then he checked his wallet, just in case. Tavish tossed it to him, and he caught it with the other hand. "Good luck."


    "You as well," said Tavish. "I''ll most likely kill you the next time we meet."


    And they parted amicably.


    William wondered if he should be concerned by that.

 Chapter 144 - Sixteen: Judgment

    In a little glade about sunlight coming down in beams between the trees, William met with Felix and Jehair. There were many beautiful flowers there, violet and white. Long vines were extending into the loose earth. Jehair was kneeling by them, her ear pressed against one. But they were not carnivorous, or so William guessed from his memory of Seathorius. The trees in this part of the wood were thicker and stronger than near Ascorn.


    Now and then, however, he saw signs of wild pigs devouring plants and roots and broken underbrush. Some trees were dying because of it.


    "How did it go?" asked Felix, mending a tear in his cloak.


    "You were gone a long time," said Jehair. She''d let her hair down to wash it and was braiding it again.


    "I had to fight it out for two days with a plague demon," said William in exhaustion as he fell to his needs. "Tavish is off on some other scheme. We''ll have to worry about reprisal from him soon. How did you fair?"


    "Lamech and I played chess," said Felix. "He is good, but not as good as he thinks. Eventually, he wandered off to start killing things. Satyrs, I guess, though it might have been a contract killing.


    "That display has people talking. You''ve made your reputation out here. Especially the killing of the pigs."


    "My reputation, yes," said William. "But our task isn''t complete. We go to aid others along our path."


    And they did.


    William did as he did before.


    Now and then, they''d find tracks from wild hogs, and William would follow them and hunt them. These were more exciting but had little glory, and killing the hogs was dangerous. None of them were as significant as those they had fought before. The bodies they gave to nearby villages, who were often hungry.


    William borrowed several spears during this time. He caught a boar head-on with a stout spear at one time, driving it into the heart. It still pushed along the shaft, and he''d nearly been gored to death. Another they caught in a pit and stabbed to death from above.


    "What do your people do if not work the fields?" William asked a white-haired woman reading by the healer''s tent. She had a single lock of blonde hair which was in front of her face. The rest of it was tied into a braid falling down her shoulder. She wore concealing black robes, which failed to hide a very impressive bustline. Or, for that matter, her extensive hips. A hood was let down behind her.


    Her face was stoic and pale, and she shut the book to look up. It was a document on the positioning of stars.


    "Well, there are men who are skilled craftsmen and work trades," said the woman. William had seen her expression on the faces of veterans in bad states. "And also there are the overseers and the guards and the militia. Also, there were some jobs where we couldn''t trust slaves since they could sabotage them.


    "The time used to be that that field out there were several whole farms, and some were there too. But now it''s all overgrown and rotting."


    "Why hasn''t Atravain planted there? Are they lying fallow?" asked William.


    "She bought it up when there wasn''t an excellent crop," said the woman. "There were never enough seeds to plant there. And she never got around to using it or a lot of others.


    "There are vast stretches of land where nobody lives because Atravain has turned them all out. One village refused to leave, but huge numbers of satyrs came after them from Seathorius. Atravain called them rebels and refused to help. Then, the satyrs burned all the fields and wrecked things.


    "There were weeks of fighting, and everything was in ruins.


    "Then Atravain came with her men and hung the ringleaders. After that, nobody resisted her anymore. It''s repopulated a bit these days, but most people have work fighting satyrs." She emphasized the word Atravain as if swapping it in for something else."


    William guessed she was an employee or relative wanting to know his mind. "These satyrs, do you think they were hired?"


    "House Atravain tends to do very well out of their raids," said the woman, emphasizing it again. "She was part of those named in the conspiracy to overthrow King Anoa II, but like everyone else, she was pardoned.


    "Whatever it is, all the raids have stopped in the past year or so."


    "That''s about the time Arraxia took over," said William. "Tell me, have you had problems with bandits?"


    "Too many," she said. "A group of renegade satyrs and slaves often raid afield and try to free the slaves. So they arm them and send them over here. Your pet chimera apparently ate most of them, so that was nice.


    "Also, that Lamech fellow has been hunting them for sport. He likes killing them slowly, so they beg for mercy."


    "Satyrs don''t beg," said William. "Ever."


    "Satyrs don''t beg people who aren''t Lamech," said the woman. "When you first meet him, he seems like an utterly psychotic brute. As you speak more with him, you realize he''s a genius. He is eloquent when he wants to be cunning, intelligent, and with a firm grasp of the law. That and brilliance for setting up systems and using them creatively. He''s a master swordsman, a fine strategist, and what was done to him was monstrous.


    "Then you look deeper and realize he is just a psychotic monster. He understands the law, but it is an expendable tool for his goals. The man has fine long-term goals, but they are just an excuse to hurt people.


    "Lamech is seeped in culture and has many virtues. But none of it has sunk in.


    "I''m sure there is a lesson in there somewhere."


    "Sometimes people are exactly what they appeared to be?" suggested Jehair.


    That sent the woman laughing hysterically and William looked at her in concern. "Are you alright?"


    "Yes, of course. Of course, other satyrs are fighting one another," continued the woman. "Sometimes the satyrs also sell people they capture in raids from other areas and sell them. A lot of plantation owners are desperate for workers. So they will never let the workers they do have work for the militia. Too expensive."


    "You mean to say that these plantation owners are buying their own people as slaves?" asked William.


    "No," said the woman. "Atravain has set hard rules against that. It would have made things easier on the plantation." Her voice was cold but not cruel like she was used to it. She seemed emotionally dead. "She never enslaves Harlenorians.


    "But some of the planters did back when the criminals first came and ensnared everything. They bought up food supplies for obscenely good prices and shipped them off-world. That is why Borinius'' people were so hungry.


    "But Kafka butchered those like pigs, and I''m glad he did."


    William shuddered at the memory of the stories he''d heard of Kafka. "Didn''t he ascend to become the God of Madness?"


    "I''d like to think my Father is dead," said the woman.


    "Why has there been no rebellion against all this?" asked William.


    She shrugged. "No point.


    "All well or good to start a mass rebellion, but this isn''t the old days. All we nobles know each other. If they did a general rising, every other noble would get worried and move to crush them. We might kill a lot of them, but they''d all be slaughtered ourselves.


    "Most villages don''t even use the militia system anymore. The ones that do have enough power to resist but not win. And with all the threats from outside, they don''t have time for it. Hasn''t King Andoa done something about this?" asked William.


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    "King Andoa is over a hundred years old, I think," said the woman. "He hasn''t left the Golden City in a long time. Tavish might know something about it, though."


    "You know Tavish as well?" asked William.


    "I have to deal with him as the administrator for the towns in this region," said the woman. "I often go between farms as a mediator. I trained in Magicora to fight on the front, but I''ll always get out of here.


    "I remember Lamech learned all kinds of techniques and spells from me. He was so charming and seemed like he might be a good person, just waiting for an opportunity. I stopped teaching him when I realized he''d kill me after he learned everything he could. It would be a kind of principle."


    William shuddered. "What is your name?"


    "Janice Atravain," said the woman.


    "Well, if you do, get out of here," said William. "And you can fight; Artarq needs sorcerers. We''ve had a shortage lately with all the wars. Several were killed in the Khasmir Campaign, and others went abroad.


    "Ask for Rusara, and if not her, Raynald."


    "I''ll keep it in mind," she said faintly.


    William looked around. "In any case, you and your people should start thinking about what you will do if someone decides to enslave you. The way things are going, sooner or later, someone is going to try."


    She seemed to calculate suddenly. "Why help us?"


    "I am a Harlenorian," said William. "If what you say is true, you must have some plan to deal with a war. Sooner or later, someone will try to force you off your land. When that happens, you must know what to do.


    "The most likely contender is either one of the gangs from the port city or the criminal networks growing."


    "And what would you suggest?" she asked.


    "The villages in the Black Mountains are logical allies," said William. "Right now, they are greatly in need of help. Wild hogs are menacing them. And they have taken to working with a Goddess of Thieves, Imogen.


    "They badly need a return to the fold and religious education. I have already healed many of them; now may be a perfect time to move in and hunt pigs for them to eat.


    "It would also be wise to send a messenger to King Andoa if you have not already."


    Janice looked to the castle, then back to him. "I see. Your advice is greatly appreciated."


    Silence ensued.


    William paused. "What of Neral Dinis?"


    "Neral Dinis may well have something to do with all this," said Janice. "It''s a foul place out there, of stagnant pools and unkept roads. They say the dead walk, ghosts ride the winds, and wraiths come out at night.


    "None go there by any way other than the road. And the forests that separate them from the realm of Brisgald are filled with the wood elves. They''ve always been harsh with outsiders and recruited satyrs to serve them. So, though no raids come from that place, few people come out of it.


    "And there''s been word of plagues of rats in the neighboring villages. There is strange music playing throughout the lands. There is also talk of villages breaking into sudden celebrations, singing, and drinking. Then they wake up the next day and don''t know why."


    "Why is Neral Dinis tolerated?" asked William.


    "He hasn''t attacked anyone," said Janice. "And vampires, by King Andoa''s decree, are not to be destroyed purely for their nature. It may be a bit too understanding. You''ll have to go through there unless you want to go miles and miles out of your way. And that''ll take you near the King''s Road."


    "What''s wrong with the King''s Road?" asked William.


    Janice halted and shrugged. "Nothing wrong with the road. It''s around the road that is the problem. If you want safety, stay on it."


    "Safety is not my goal," said William. "I go into danger that I might lessen it for others? Is this the plantation?"


    "It is," said Janice.


    At that moment, rough-looking men dragged a satyr out of the fields. A large bag bounced with them as the satyr thrashed to get loose. The creature was snarling curses in his own tongue and spitting. They hit him in the stomach and threw him to the ground.


    "What''s going on over there?" asked William.


    "Don''t mind it," said Janice. "This one defied orders and was caught trying to escape.


    "We ran him down and are making an example of him."


    They were pulling out a cross and forcing him down onto it. He screamed in rage and struggled against them as they drew nails and a hammer from the bag. The satyr cursed them long after it was apparent he could not escape.


    And he never begged.


    "Crucifixion?" asked William, feeling a bit horrified.


    "It sets an example," said Janice in a dull tone. "First, you nail the hands to the stake, then you nail his feet. Once you''ve done that, you pull it up. You hang him up there for a few days, and all the slaves see it. Makes it clear what''ll happen if they disobey.


    "They don''t die of blood loss, of course. Instead, the lungs gradually collapse. Some put the weight on their hands, others on their feet. You spend a lot of time watching them waste away.


    "If we need speed, we break the legs. Waste of good property, but he made the realistic option useless."


    "Wouldn''t it..." William halted as they held his limbs in place and set a nail to his hand. "Perhaps you could kill him and simply leave the body out. But, unfortunately, his screams may inspire hatred as much as fear."


    "We know how it operates. Don''t tell us our work," said Janice, tone level. "You don''t live here."


    "I apologize," said William. The hammer fell, and the nail was driven in. "Is this a standard practice?" sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Another nail was driven in.


    "Orders are orders," said Janice. "You can''t afford to make exceptions with slaves. So you have to enforce discipline, or the whole plantation loses."


    This was the way things were, and it was not his land.


    It was not his place to question it.


    At that moment, William saw a group of paladins. He knew them to be paladins at once; there was a kind of light to them. Though he had never been aware of the light, he realized it had always been there. And yet, clad in shining mail, these men walked by the crucifixion.


    One looked at the cross, dismissed it, and then walked back. It was Suran.


    "I cannot stand the presumption of that cur, Tavish," said one, with a neat black beard. He had very well-polished armor. "Trying to distract us from the right path with healers'' work."


    "Unfortunately, people should suffer, Anos," said Suran. "We''ve been ordered to fight the satyrs. Lord Dunmoore wants their raids checked, and we have to do it.


    "Though, of course, those who fight the plague deserve our respect."


    One of the Paladins saw him as they passed and did not think much of him. His gaze fell on William, and there was a look of disdain on his face.


    "Mercenaries," said the man as he walked by. "We don''t need their scum."


    Suran evidently did not notice William. "We need everyone we can get, Anos. Mercenaries can really help us."


    "And they could just as easily change sides for a higher price," said Anos. "Only a fool relies on mercenaries. They are loyal only to money."


    William wanted to go after him, challenge him to a duel, or correct him. But whatever task they were sent on was necessary, and they were going quickly. Avenging his own honor would lead to severe problems.


    Now they were gone, and William looked down and realized what he looked like. He was beaten and covered in mud and blood where they were clean. His armor was kept clean but still needed police, and his cloak was torn and ragged. And this company of knights was walking by him now as though he didn''t exist.


    William looked back at Suran and saw the man smiling as he spoke with Anos and others. It was not a smirk or an unpleasant smile; it was normal. And it was not even at him. It was the ultimate insult; here was a man dressed in shining mail with great skill. And he was using it solely to advance himself.


    It was stolen.


    Stolen honor.


    Stolen joy.


    Stolen happiness.


    Suran passed him by, and William watched him go. They could have healed this place in a day.


    His gaze turned to where the satyrs were roaring in agony on the cross. And the Paladins had walked right by it without objection. As though it were just business as usual.


    Janice looked to where the satyr was screaming in agony as the cross was raised and then to William. The cross descended through him, scorching them from above. Then, for a moment, she halted. "I can''t just walk off."


    "If you stay here," said William. "You''ll stay here forever. Do you want to spend the rest of your life doing this?"


    Janice showed concern and emotion for the first time since he had seen her. She looked up at the cross in something akin to horror. "I couldn''t agree more."


    And taking up a staff of steel, she raised it. A bolt of flame burned the satyr to death in an instant. As it did, the cross was burned to a cinder, and she stood up. And, for the first time since he''d met her, she smiled fully. "Damn the plantations. You men, get together a militia; we''re going hunting."


    "Before you do, take me to the injured and sick here," said William.


    Jehair broke off, and Janice headed off to hunt satyrs with groups of men. And so it continued as they got nearer and nearer to the castle. And yet, the closer they got, the more plagues they encountered. Soon, pyres of burning dead could be seen on the roadside, yet the number of sick people only increased.


    Felix and William went where they could, helping who they could. Jehair came in and out, talking with the spirits as she did. And he saw more and more crucifixions as he did, and there was nothing he could do. Atravain seemed as bad as any demon, and yet...


    Yet people spoke of her as though she ought to be admired.


    Worst of all, William realized Felix and Jehair were used to this. Felix did not see anything bad with it at all. And the further William went, the worse it became as the darkness closed in. His vision darkened so that soon, the people around him seemed misshapen monsters. Every day he walked in seemed like a lifetime, and he was unsure what was happening or after.


    All he could do was keep trudging toward the castle and healing.


    Often, word came in that Janice had started hunting pigs in large numbers. Then, one day, they had the privilege of seeing her at work. Wildfires were created in the woods, rising high with smoke and other creatures. Several of them were pigs, and bursts of flame herded these. From hiding came many villagers with spears who formed a wall. The hogs, half-mad, were driven into the pikes. Finally, one large boar broke through and gored a man to death, treading another underfoot.


    The others jabbed at it in a circle of spears before Janice grasped a shaft and hurled it into the creature''s eye. Then, writhing in pain, the other men stabbed in.


    Three hogs were dead, and Janice was getting started. Her robe was gone and changed for white leather. She now wore a white skirt over armored leggings and looked far nobler. Her upper body was covered in armor, and she held a staff instead of a sword. As she saw him, she nodded with the same dull eyes.


    What had happened to her, wondered William as he left?


    "They''ve burned out half a woodland to kill three menaces," said Jehair. "Some trade."


    "I do not think Janice cares about the woodlands, Jehair," said William.


    "No one does," muttered Felix. "Not even me."


    The lands around him shifted to the darkened plains of some evil country. Dark things around him and those he saw on the road seemed misshapen and too fat or thin. As though they were demons in the flesh of men.


    Yet men rose to meet it. And they were not alone.


    It was a beginning.


    Suddenly, his head throbbed and he staggered forward. Vaguely he was aware of voices and then...


    William''s eyes opened.

 Chapter 145 - Seventeen: The Castle of Lady Atravain

    They opened in an unfamiliar place and William stood up immediately.


    His hand went for his sword and found it was not there. Only then did he realize he was sitting in a well-lit bedroom. There was a tapestry on a wall across from him. It depicted a white-haired man taking up a white sword with a blonde woman and several other figures. William recognized many of them. There was Father, Raynald, Mother, and others like them.


    Then battles were fought with many images of bandits and thieves. Over time the others all fell away, but the white-haired man continued to fight. The blonde woman watched with pride as he became more and more brutal. At last, they looked over a peaceful land, and the man ascended into heaven.


    His sword was over on the desk nearby. It looked to have been freshly cleaned as had the sheathe.


    At once, he buckled it back on while looking back. In a seat was a white-haired old man clad in brown robes. He had a thick frame and a long white, neat beard tied toward the end. A gnarled staff member was smoking a pipe in his hand. "Where am I?"


    "You are in the castle of the Lady Atravain," said the old man. "And you were never nearer death than that moment. Your healing power is quite impressive, but it can be overdone."


    William paused. "Who are you?"


    "Gail Arengeth," said Gail. "You are focused on war, aren''t you?"


    "I have to be," said William, unsure what to say.


    "Yes," said Gail. "If it is any consolation, this has been a miserable experience for me.


    "You are very lucky to have survived. The world was starting to darken around you, and you were the only defender.


    "It is a deadly technique, known only to a few. I shall have to look into the source. Even so, the root of the problem was growing darkness."


    William halted. He''d read about darkened worlds. "Do you mean we would have become a darkened world?"


    "Not at once," said Gail. "It''s a gradual process, but it''s a lot harder to stop once you start. The bleak, cynical horror snowballs larger and larger. Eventually, the very concept of good itself is discredited.


    "''If we''re going to have crime-''"


    "''-we might as well have organized crime," finished William. "I''ve heard it."


    "It''s a nice cynical bit of jargon," said Gail. "There is a kind of safety in cynicism. If you truly believe everyone else is terrible, you are freed of responsibility. So long as you can convince yourself everyone else is irredeemable, you can justify anything.


    "And once you start committing many evil deeds, you can''t even step out of that bubble again. Our enemy in this matter has been using this. They have convinced men to embrace the most cynical view of Harlenor so that their lies will become true.


    "Fortunately, that fate has been safely disrupted for now.


    "I would call it Urishia work if any of them were left."


    "Urishia?" asked William.


    "One of the nastiest and most arrogant families I ever dealt with," said Gail. "I abhor the slaughter of whole families. But I do not miss them."


    "What happened to them?" asked William.


    "They threw in with Rammas, one of the most powerful of Baltoth''s sons," said Gail. "And it seemed Rammas would have the mastery. But a Calishan warrior called Isamu defeated Rammas.


    "Baltoth was displeased. After centuries of dealing with their backstabbing, he ordered them all killed. However, he may have missed some.


    "I''m not sure how to feel about that."


    "Even the children?" asked William.


    "There was a justification for it, somehow," said Gail. "Urishia were almost universally arrogant and selfish. It was a family tradition to find some outsider to become best friends with as a child. Then you would murder them as a coming of age ritual.


    "And they only got worse with time. By the time Baltoth wiped them out, they were as bad as any orc."


    "Were the orcs that bad?" asked William. He had numerous accounts of horrific battles, but they were all shrouded in myth.


    "You don''t want to know," said Gail with a shudder.


    "I do," said William.


    There was a pause.


    "They were even worse than the Urishia," said Gail. "They started nearly irredeemable but seemed to be getting better for a bit. However, they were never able to cease their penchant for constant warfare.


    "It was an obsession with blood that led to slow degeneration. The moral fiber of their people got gradually worse and worse. Eventually, they went from a little more violent than humans to utter monsters.


    "By the time Alchara ordered them destroyed, they made satyrs look kindhearted.


    "Unfortunately, after they were destroyed, the balance of power was as well. The old alliance structures fell apart without an ''evil'' opponent to face off against. The result was chaos destroyed the old human Kingdom of Sendar. That stands roughly where Gel Carn is now. Tolnasran, now Antion, fell into brutal civil war, and many fled to Dinis to rebuild there. Meanwhile, Tiriscan, what is now Escor, succumbed to the vampires."


    "What about Haldren?" asked William.


    "Haldren was orcish and satyr territory for the most part," said Gail. "Through the Withering contested it with them. It was only when Anoa chased Neral Dinis here that the first real human colonies began.


    "The Furbearers were a distant people, of course."


    "Alchara manages to restore order and take control. And for a long time, the elven reign was beneficial. But there were good elements and bad elements, and eventually, her systems broke down. She did try to recreate Sendar and several other Kingdoms, but nothing came of that."


    "Why not?" asked William.


    "The humans were no longer the same culture," said Arengeth. "And many of the elven administrators misused their privileges. Others became outright tyrants, partially thanks to interference by the Urishia.


    "Sylvar, for instance.


    "It all culminated in a series of escalating wars, and the rest is history. In truth, however, the system was already collapsing. Even if Anoa had not risen to power, someone else would have. And they might have been far worse."


    William felt a sense of awe that overshadowed the knowledge this man was a political enemy.


    "What was Anoa like?" asked William.


    Gail smiled. "Few people ask me that question.


    "I don''t really know anymore, it''s too far distant. Memories alter with time to color based on the present and what we see in the future. A once-good time can be hell if it comes to a bad end."


    "I believe we''re political enemies," noted William suddenly.


    "Yes, yes we are," said Gail. "Your father and I got on badly from the very beginning, I''m afraid. He never liked the plans I had for him and was willing to do anything to get out of them. I found him to be nightmarishly ambitious, with a tendency to enable the worst in those around him.


    "Although I supposed Vanion would say he was helping them keep their pride.


    "There was an attempt to mend the feud by apprenticing Tanith to Argath Marn. But nothing came of that. For reasons which by this point must seem all too obvious."


    "If this is what Tanith went through, I see why she was itching for a fight," said William.


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    "Antion has been in a slow decay for decades," said Arengeth. "And it is the worst kind of decay. The kind that happens when you are prosperous with many friends. Which means that you have no one to blame but yourself.


    "My goal was to restore it to health gradually. However, I believe Tanith was a follower of the policy of a cleansing flame. The way of Anoa."


    "Tanith is troubled in her spirit," said William. "She is fixated on violence.


    "But she is getting better. The Khasmir campaign did her good, and I believe she''ll be a force for righteousness in a few more years."


    "Well then," said Arengeth. "That at least is good. However, I''ve never heard anyone mention the Khasmir Campaign being good.


    "Now, insofar as grand strategy is concerned, Vanion and I are at cross-purposes. However, in regards to Antion, I foresee no conflicts of interest. Unless one of us goes the way of Tuor, anyway."


    William thought about this. "Where are Dunmoore, Suran, and Farwa? And the others?"


    "Dunmoore and Suran are not dead," said Gail. "You were tapping into the spiritual realm in your exhaustion. And believe that your spiritual attacker was using that as an opportunity. They conjured up your own worst thoughts and the worst thoughts of the Paladin Order.


    "From this, they created a vision of caricatures of the worst aspects of each. I imagine they hoped to sew strife between you. Had it worked, you might have emerged with bitter hatred toward them. It could have wrecked many of Elranor''s plans and clouded your connection to him.


    "Although I confess, I should not confide your plans to him. He is in a very delicate position, and I am concerned he may become compromised. I can say no more, however. Just remember there is a difference between ''evil'' and ''on your side.''


    "Which, I suppose, summarizes the relationship between Kafka Telus and Vanion Gabriel. You can see some of his work on the tapestry over there."


    "Who was Kafka Telus?" asked William. "I''ve heard his name many times. And I know he was the husband of Lady Atravain and a distant relative of Edmund Telus. Father hated him, and Mother spoke of him once as a great warrior.


    "But no one ever goes into details."


    "He was a devoted follower of the Principle of the Cleansing Flame," said Gail. "And a good friend, at one time. He saw many of the things you saw, but the Paladin Order was not on hand to help. They were out battling in the Islands of Power under Dunmoore and Arkan Lantan.


    "His friend, the Lady Atravain, was nearly lynched by a group of thugs twice. After that happened, Kafka and Atravain decided the madness had to stop. And so he began a reign of violence on anyone and everyone who opposed House Atravain.


    "No one was safe.


    "It did quell the criminal element for a time. But Vanion and he were long enemies and disagreed on both end goals and means. Your Father, you see, wished to engineer the criminals'' downfall and advance his rank. However, he desired to avoid needless violence. All to repurpose existing systems to his own ends. Edmund Telus was in favor of it. But Kafka wanted an immediate solution. And to ensure the systems of the class remained strong. Lady Atravain choose his ways over Vanion''s.


    "For a time, they were cordial. But some events happened on their voyage to Themious that turned them into seething hatred. They returned to Themious in different ships, Kafka first, then Vanion with Azgora.


    "It also fractured the family. Edmund Telus and his cousin never spoke together again."


    "Did these strategies work?" asked William.


    "If you want to see the legacy of Kafka''s policies," said Arengeth. "You need to look out the window." William did and saw a far green country of well-ordered farms all owned by Lady Atravain. They were tilled by slaves overseen by men with weapons, and many of the lands were not as well ordered as they could be. "In fairness, it is a good deal better than it was getting. Demon worship had been growing, and there was the ritual sacrifice of children.


    "There was an industry of selling slaves for human sacrifice growing and that was the last straw.


    "I wasn''t fond of Kafka''s methods, but it can''t be denied that most of them deserved it. Since that time, however, House Atravain has been falling apart.


    "Her three daughters cannot be married, you see. She rose to such great power that there are no eligible husbands for them. Janice is already past the usual age. Luke Atravain is their only son, and he has yet to come into his own.


    "The castle now exists in a kind of limbo. Respected and feared, yet without options. Your Uncle, Lord Arthur, did rather better in the end." Arengeth sighed. "There is always a price to pay for wanton violence.


    "I fear for your friend Tanith. She well may have been becoming like her uncle."


    "She is not," said William.


    "Perhaps," said Arengeth. "If nothing else, cutting down that tree brought her so far into the darkness she had to step back. She might have become an utter monster if she''d gone in more gradually.


    "It would take only the wrong company."


    "Better for her that she has friends, better for the world, less so for me," said William.


    Gail smiled and looked ancient now. His white beard seemed to drape him in the perpetual cloud. "Well, that''s the trouble with being responsible.


    "I was afraid her spirit had been ruined. That she might heal is good to know."


    "Why do you care?" asked William, surprised. "She would kill you in a heartbeat, you know."


    "Of course, she would," said Gail. "Many people would. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "That does not mean I hate them." He sighed. "Antion has come under the sway of dark powers. And we were afraid it would darken completely. But, unfortunately, people have become fixated on the usual suspects. So they''ve missed pressing threats.


    "I have been working my way west from Antion. Though Lord Arthur and Lord Korlac are bastions of order in this place."


    "So, where are you going now?" asked William.


    "To Haldren," said Gail standing up. "There might be a civil war at this rate. And also to Escor as well, to soothe tensions. I must speak with King Gavin at one. The Lord Kern has been a faithful subject, but I fear his judgment has erred."


    "He helped enslave the Furbearers," said William.


    "I am a master of understatement," said Gail. "And knowing Kern, there is a very complicated and sensible reason he needed to do it. Politics is nasty, and Kern usually takes all the nasty jobs.


    "It''s his curse and specialty. He never was the same after that trip to Babarassia."


    "What of the Paladins?" asked William.


    "I have instructed them to take the part of the healers in the absence of others," said Gail. "Tavish Kern raising the alarm helped a great deal, if only for the sake of sheer audacity. Unfortunately, he is not well-liked for obvious reasons.


    "I gather Dunmoore has given Suran a position of some authority. He spent a great deal of time healing others, though not nearly to your extent.


    "You are not pleased?"


    "Suran and I have not had the best of relationships," said William, feeling uncharitable.


    "However, thus far, he has done all his work well, so he is not a bad choice. I''m afraid I blamed him for things which were not really his fault."


    "Well, it has been a very bleak situation," said Gail. He paused. "So, perhaps you could give me an account of what has happened from your perspective."


    William told him everything. Gail listened with interest. He showed particular approval for the healing William had done. However, he seemed to have a special concern for Rius''s behavior, especially Lilas.


    "I see," said Gail. "That is troubling.


    "I always knew that Ascorn had gone to pieces since Rius took power. Now I may finally be able to do something about it. His Father was a good man and well skilled at administration. Sadly, his line has fallen far.


    "Worse still, his line is likely to end with Rius. He has no wife or children, and his closest relative is Lord Tarsus Rius in the Border Hills. But there is no surety one of his children will be picked by the King.


    "A successor will have to be named, and everyone will want their own person running it.


    "Still, I now know why you were spiritually exposed. Your battles with the plague drew you into the spirit realm. Using that much divine power always does.


    "I see now why King Andoa requested your presence."


    "For my part, I''ve dealt with several of the plague demons on the way here. But when you have my level of power, you don''t get credit for it."


    "Because of Melchious?" asked William.


    "Yes, a regrettable connection," said Gail. "Some speculate that you have been drawing power from his domain for your healing. However, if you are truly converting the energy of hell into divine power to help others, by all means, do so.


    "Weakening Melchious is fine by me. The wicked wretch spends his time corrupting everything Anoa once stood for." He sighed. "Would that the Furbearers had not let their guard down. Long ago, Thrakmul was a powerful bastion of the Withering, and they were mighty indeed.


    "Many battles were fought thereafter; it was refounded from Anoa''s destruction of it.


    "But I remember the Incarnation of the Land often visited there. That was back before his disappearance. It was one of the last places he visited, and he promised them he would return to save the world in some form.


    "If you stand across from it on the channel, you can still see the pyres of green flame on the shore at night. These days, the soil is of precious little use for farming, and the wind is all the colder there. And with Escor so unstable, there has been very little opportunity for trade.


    "So the land of Thrakmul to the east of the Furbearers is an empty and, where only the dead walk, and darker things. Though they do not touch Furbearers or their friends, none live there save wild beasts.


    "And now, the Barbarassians."


    "You are a veritable source of lore, are you not?" asked William. He found all this fascinating.


    Gail smiled. "Indeed. I would not be much of a wizard without it." He drew out a pipe and lit it, puffing it. "If I were you, I should seek out King Faras of the Wood Elves.


    "He waits for one of your characters."


    "Thank you," said William, doubting he would.


    The door opened, and Felix entered, clad in a new cloak. He nodded to Arengeth and came to William without changing expression. "William, you''re awake."


    "Felix?" asked William.


    William felt as if his friend ought to have come to his bedside at once. Yet that was absurd.


    "Felix has stood guard by your door," said Gail.


    "We learned to be paranoid," said William.


    "Yes, myself as well," said Gail. "I should be going as soon as possible. The road is long, and King Andoa should be here soon enough."


    "A pity I won''t be," said William, walking to the door.


    "I''ve seen enough forced marches, slavemaster," said a beautiful voice.


    William saw Jehair in the door, clad in a white dress that caught the light. Her hair was newly cleaned and braided. It bared her shoulders and a great deal of her cleavage while clinging to her waist and hips.


    "Jehair?" asked William, deciding to obey courtesy. "You look beautiful."


    "Thank you very much," said Jehair.


    "So, then, did you go through with your plan already?" said Gail. "Or is it yet to be set in motion?"


    "Everything was initiated a few months ago," said Jehair.


    "Then things truly were worse than I thought," said Gail. "Lord Dunmoore and Lady Atravain remain here. They desire to speak to you about a matter of great import, though I know not what."


    "Was I invited?" asked William.


    "They stated that were you present, Sir Gabriel, you would be invited to walk with them," said Gail.


    Sir Gabriel again? "What do they want?"


    "It is not the custom to discuss politics," said Gail. "People socialize as a means of establishing friendships between monarchs."


    "I wonder if that isn''t half our problem," said William. "Will you be there?"


    "I don''t usually attend such functions," said Gail. "I prefer to work through agents with no relation to ordinary areas of command, such as yourself.


    "Do give my regards to Lady Atravain."


    William smiled for the first time in what seemed ages. "I will."


    He was finally getting some respect.

 Chapter 146 - Eighteen: A Cobra Among Vipers

    Gail Arengeth departed, and there was time to catch up on things.


    "Excuse me," said a voice at the door.


    Clad in a frilly, long dress and white garb, a beautiful elven maid entered. Her hair was very long and tied up in a spiral ponytail. She was holding a tray of tea; with her were other, slightly less beautiful elves with water.


    "Sir William Gabriel and Jehair," said the woman. "I am Alasa. We have awaited your arrival. Lady Atravain bids you refresh yourselves and go to meet them. Garments have been made available for you to choose from."


    "Thank you," said William.


    William drank the water and ate a swift meal. The bread was a bit hard, but he''d had worse. And the water was more apparent than anything he''d tasted in a long time. He''d learned to filter water using the right kinds of stones. Raynald had put together such techniques, but this was on a new level.


    "We have it given by a water spirit as a gift," said Alasa.


    This was something he had discussed at length with Father and Mother. They hadn''t wanted him wearing any clothes from other lords. So they had given both of them sealed packages they''d kept in their packs. Tearing them at last, they drew out fine, crisp white tunics, well white for William. Felix''s was black; he''d paid for the dye himself. With them were clean black pants.


    As they dressed, William moved further from the door. He looked around for anyone listening. No flowers he could see.


    "You have not used that tunic before," said Jehair.


    "It is kept in case I must appear presentable," William admitted with a grin.


    Alasa nodded. "We''ll take you to the hall. You should know that one of Raynald De Chevlon''s brothers is here."


    "Rundas De Chevlon," said William, remembering things. "Alchive De Chevlon, and Octavian De Chevlon. Rundas owns a trade fleet, which operates with Duke Marn''s approval, on the eastern shore. Alchive is involved in money lending. And Octavian is heavily invested in metalsmithing.


    "Which one?"


    "Rundas," said Alasa.


    And so they walked.


    As they did, William caught a glanced between the elves and then at him. He looked to Jehair, whose gaze was calculating momentarily before she looked away. In the next hall, William found many people dressed in finery and gold. They wore silken garments with leggings that clung to them and were drinking wine. Others were eating together, and many gave him a disdainful glance. Many seemed out of shape.


    There were a great many flowers of the same sort used by Jehair in Ascorn. So Jehair was watching everyone. Or someone else with such a connection.


    "What is this?" asked one another. "A gladiator ring?"


    But some among them were obviously experienced at war. Or in other trades, these mostly spoke away from the tables. They looked at William with a keen eye, and one or two had a look of panic. They left at once, and several others noted it and began to discuss it. But those drinking the wine laughed and spoke in jeering whispers. Likely about William.


    Jehair walked in and immediately turned everyone''s heads in her dress. She moved her hips in a way meant to appeal, and the men with wine focused on it. However, those who were speaking were immediately concerned by her presence.


    Something had changed.


    Then William saw Dunmoore in the flesh and remembered every story he''d heard of his exploits. He was presently enduring the flattery of several finely dressed men. Then Jehair approached, and he smiled.


    "Jehair, you are here at last," said Dunmoore. "I''m pleased we have you to help us with this."


    "My only concern is keeping things balanced," said Jehair. "You know the Lord Dunmoore, of course, William."


    "By reputation," said William with a smile. "You led the charge at Desora. And your battles against pirates and Calishan ships have often been retold often."


    Dunmoore laughed and turned away from the dressed man. "Well, they were exaggerated. I remember your Father made a point to never be in the thick of the fighting after Desora. So we had to save him three times."


    Laughter from the boys drinking together and from some of the men. William, however, saw no reason to flare up here.


    "My Father knows well where his talents lie," said William. "I think I''d better greet some old allies."


    "Of course," said Dunmoore.


    William looked around and saw a wide variety of people with much more weight than any noble ought to. As he did, he realized he did not know anyone there. Not once had any of these nobles visited Carn Gable or Ran Telus or sent letters. He knew some of their symbols, but he''d never seen them in war. He saw three in the orange usually worn by House De Chevlon. There were three of them, and they were speaking together. They seemed pleased at something, and William recalled Raynald hated them.


    They saw him and did not approach him.


    Surely, he was a powerful political ally. Still, he would not bow and scrape to them if they did not want to acknowledge him. Looking over, William saw Suran standing to one side silently. Their eyes met, and William realized they had the same problem.


    Both were shut out.


    Eventually, a pretty blonde woman approached Suran, and they began to speak. She had a remarkable resemblance to Janice, with similar but younger features. The move was met with disapproving stares from many of the nobles. At the same time, no one approached William.


    William decided he would just have to approach Raynald''s brothers.


    "I''m quite certain you can enjoy the festivities separately," said Jehair.


    "Thank you," said William, and saw a different blonde woman. "Excuse me, is anyone from House De Chevlon or House Gabriel here?"


    She paused. "Well, Rundas De Chevlon is over there representing his house and the church. But no one from House Gabriel was invited."


    "Then my presence here is accidental," said William. "Gail Arengeth moved me here after I was injured on the roadside." He removed his hand. "Could you introduce me to them? I don''t seem to be making any progress here."


    "Of course," said the woman. "And you are?"


    "I am William Gabriel," said William. "The son of Duke Vanion Gabriel."


    "Oh, from the colony," said the woman. "I''m Jaina Atravain. Follow me."


    "Am I to understand that Artarq is regarded as a minor matter?" said William.


    "Well, trade has been going up and down Savior''s Run for ages," said Jaina, halting and turning to him. "House Marn are the only ones who can traverse the river unmolested. So their transport has always been safe. They had a long and profitable relationship with the line of King Banir. House Gabriel''s military victories are significant. However, they are largely symbolic to men of the mercantile class."


    "And the nobility are of mercantile class?" asked William.


    "Well, it is considered old-fashioned," said Jaina. "I help my Mother with my finances and often help in meetings. You had the uh..."


    "I walked out of Seathorius with only a servant, befriended a chimera, and battled a demon," said William. "I fought in the Khasmir campaigns for months and dispelled numerous demonic infestations. I''ve also recently helped to restore Lord Rius to his rightful place. And I have driven the Babarassians out of Ascorn.


    "Even as we speak, the slaves in Ascorn have all been freed."


    Jaina halted a little nervously. "I see. I''ll introduce you to Duke Marn right away. Don''t tell anyone what you just said. Many people here lost a fortune in the riots in Ascorn."


    "They were not riots," said William. "They were a war." He halted for a moment. "I feel it would be unbefitting to not at least speak to my allies first."


    "I''ll take you to them, then," said Jaina.


    William moved with Jaina to where Raynald''s brothers stood. Jaina approached the most prominent man with a black beard. "Lord Rundas De Chevlon, may I introduce William Gabriel, the son of Duke Vanion Gabriel."


    "What of it?" asked Rundas, looking at William with irritation. "Why is he bothering me?"


    "I saw him grab you," said another nearby noble. He had brown hair and wore fine clothes. But he was well in shape and had also taken a sword. "Are you alright?"


    "He was simply trying to get my attention, Peter," said Jaina. "He doesn''t understand local customs. I do not think he planned to be here and has no guide, save Jehair."


    "Oh, sorry," said Peter. "I thought you were making advances."


    "It''s of no consequence," said William.


    "Some guide to pick," said another, with a scar on his face. "Why has he come here?"


    "Because plague is running rampant through Antion," said William. "I worked myself to exhaustion fighting it and was taken in here. I am a Paladin of Elranor, after all." Silence from most of them, looking away as though bored. He doubted any of these men had done nearly so well.


    "Not very befitting a noble, is it," said Rundas. "Going around hitting other people with swords. Breaking up armor and being hailed as a hero for chopping off more heads than others."


    "And what would you consider befitting a noble?" asked William.


    "Becoming learned in refined manners. And, if you can manage it, coming to understand one''s place in society," said Rundas. "That one does not intrude on important matters which you know nothing about and have no place in any way."


    "Test me," said William, keeping his tone level.


    Rundas looked at him. "Who are the three most important gods of Antion?"


    "Elranor, Laevian, and Barden," said William.


    Laughter, low at first, but a general laugh from other nobles around him. Louder than ever, though, Peter and the scarred one did not join in. Jaina winced. They were laughing at him. Rundas gave a snide smile. "The correct answer is all of them."


    "I don''t acknowledge you as a religious authority, Rundas," said William.


    "Well, how unfortunate," said Rundas. "Since I am a Bishop. Has the church fallen since last morning?" More laughter was directed at him.


    William looked around at the wine and saw several women who looked to be of loose morals. There were people drunk around them, and someone was beginning to sing. "...Recent events have made me concerned for it."


    "Then I pray you find greater enlightenment," said Rundas. "But, I am done. I leave you to the student of a cripple who takes companionship with Calishan whores. One hopes his lessons at swordplay were better than manners." Laughter, louder. "Raynald De Chevlon is ten times the noble you''ll ever be!" shouted William. And he grabbed a glass of wine from a nearby servant and splashed it over Rundas'' face. There was a gasp from the aristocrats around them.


    It might have been a mistake, but William was too angry to care. Rundas'' fine silken clothes were soaked in wine and utterly ruined. He spluttered in humiliation. But William did not give a damn. He''d been on the road this entire time, only to be publicly humiliated like this. No one had approached him, and now his mentor was being scorned.


    "William is right!" said Peter suddenly.


    "Peter, be quiet," said his scarred friend as murmurs of dismay and outrage came forth.


    "No, I will not be quiet, Rutger; this is outrageous!" said Peter. "What has the church been doing for the people or us all this time? We pay taxes to ensure the prosperous land is healed, and they delegate it all to the Healer''s Guild. Is it humiliating war heroes that we pay these ''priests?''


    "Raynald''s crimes were horrible. Mother lost one of her brothers to him. But at least he earned his keep on the battlefield, and none of you would regret having him beside you. Savage he might be, but he''s exactly the person you need in a war. My brother Rutger and I fought in the Khasmir Campaigns protecting the supply lines to Duke Vanion''s. That was a nasty business, and we were on the outskirts. And I didn''t see any priests from any church out there in the fighting.


    "I remember they made a big deal about how it was a fool''s errand and how Vanion was wasting resources. ''Let the satyrs handle their own war.'' Only Vanion won handily."


    "The bandits are all over the roads, and the Paladins have to fill in for these men," said a dwarf who had remained silent. "They are a military order and are not supposed to be sent off to deal with plagues. And if the plagues have spread, it''s because your friends didn''t keep the Healer''s Guild in line."


    "You know, I hear you and the other Bishops are favorite customers of every brothel in Antion," said a freckled woman near Peter. "There isn''t a single decent family that would want a priest alone with its daughters because of you. I have a sister who was nearly defiled when she went to confession."


    The merchants and nobles, by now, were shying away from Peter like he had the plague, fleeing for an exit. Jehair has also shied away from as well, while Felix observed. One of the other nobles, dressed in costly clothes, caught his breath; he was about forty.


    "Peter, you are drunk!" he said. "This man is no true noble; he''s a brute! Insulting the honorable Bishop simply for showing him his ignorance! It''s an obscene outrage, and I, for one, shall have nothing more to do with him or any of his kind! I demand he be thrown out!"


    Many calls of assent came from other men, and William looked to them. The party who had spoken up with Peter began to shout in return so that soon, a full uproar was going on. More and more of them were shouting at him, and their cries continued and continued. Most of them were young, about Peter or Ruther''s age, and many seemed drunk.


    William looked to Letan Marn, who was dressed in comparatively humble clothing. So was Dunmoore, who was completely disinterested. The two of them paid no heed to the uproar and continued speaking in private. Some looked up in irritation, shrugged, and looked back as it raised.


    William looked to Jaina, who was observing much the same. Then he looked to Peter, who was speaking with Ruther in private. After a moment, Peter turned to William, nodded to him, and they both headed out. The freckled woman and dwarf went with them. On their way, they courteously said goodbye to Letan and went out. Some of the other noblemen, the fitter ones, went after them with their servants.


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    That left only the least impressive people in the room. A thankfully diminished number. They seemed surprised that their demands still needed to be met. By now, they had yelled themselves hoarsely. William looked to Rundas, who snatched a glass.


    William stepped aside as he splashed the wine, and it caught the nobility behind him. "The steel of Antion seems to have been tarnished of late."


    Rundas scowled and marched out in disgust, and that got people into a positive panic.


    Many others also left, walking away while turning up their noses or making snide comments.


    "Borderline heretical," said one.


    "Disgraceful," said another.


    "A total lack of respect for his betters," said a third.


    "You should find a better company, Jaina," said a fourth. "You''ve no reason to associate with a brute like this."


    "I understand your concern," said Jaina. "But I am playing the role of his escort."


    And they walked over to where Suran was speaking with interest and began loudly praising him. As though their approval was some sought-after resource. One that William desired and Suran had gained. It was very perplexing that they could be so blind.


    "You know how to make enemies," said Jaina in amusement.


    "It doesn''t matter," said William. "None of them will ever be important."


    Jaina considered it. "What makes you say that?"


    "Felix, if you would," said William. He had a sense of things, but Felix was sharper.


    "First," said Felix. "They publicly humiliated a potential ally who bore them no ill will. So they are reckless and have no sense of politics. Second, most drink excessively and are out of shape, so they aren''t a physical threat. Third, when the schism happened, both sides made their move.


    "One side decided to leave the party and take action. The other decided to try to prop up a rival to William as if he were their enemy. But Suran takes orders from Dunmoore, and there is no certainty he or William will ever be at cross-purposes. So, the truth is, praising Suran does not help them. If anything, it could alienate Dunmoore. He might not like them behaving in such a way toward his subordinates.


    "One side in the schism has chosen to act. The other has decided to keep drinking."


    "Not everyone was involved in that schism, though," said Jaina.


    "Anyone who was anyone in this party has already been discussing their plans for some time," said Felix. "They took notice of us and immediately factored our presence into them. Some left, some stayed, others kept a low profile. And some decided to humiliate my master.


    "True nobility do not have time to pillory their own; they have work to do. Important responsibilities that do not involve drinking. Dunmoore and Letan have not touched a glass."


    Jaina laughed at that. It was a nice sort of laugh."I see your point. So why don''t you tell me a little bit about Ascorn? That was why Mother wanted you here."


    William did tell her, and Jaina asked many questions on the subject. She was particularly interested in which specific merchants did what. William felt his own ignorance on the subject. Yet he had a feeling that much was guessed in their conversation, which even he did not know. His description of Rius did not surprise her, and she listened with great concern to Aras.


    "Do you think he has designs on Ascorn?" asked Jaina.


    "I doubt it," said William. "Aras is an honorable man. And Haldren has more than enough problems with this Furbearer business. The real problem is that no one seems to be running the place."


    Jaina nodded and smiled. "I see. I''d better introduce you to Lord Dunmoore before the sword fight, though."


    "Thank you," said William.


    Suran was getting much attention now, though the girl had excused herself from the nobility. She was looking at him with interest. There was a clear resemblance between her and Jaina and Janice, and he guessed they were sisters. Jaina''s hair was a bit darker but went behind her head. The other had hair falling over her face and shoulder and had more innocent eyes.


    Suran became very popular by being William''s adversary. Their gaze met, and Suran shrugged and smiled in a longsuffering way.


    "It might be better to avoid speaking highly of Raynald De Chevlon," said Jaina. "Many powerful people hate him."


    "He is my mentor," said William as they approached. "And a friend to my Father and Mother. I will defend his honor if he is insulted. Otherwise, I shall avoid the subject."


    "Well spoken," said Dunmoore. "Thank you, William. While poorly practiced, you at least earned my protege some respect. This is Duke Letan Marn."


    The nobles by Suran seemed doubtful, and William did not know why.


    Marn was a man of great dignity and moved forward to offer his hand. William took it respectfully and stepped back. Another boy came forward then, around William''s age but small. Letan looked at him. "What do you learn from all this, Saul?"


    "We are wealthy," said Saul. "And we have no security at all. The flow of power favors outsiders to our organization. Rundas ought to have won that skirmish."


    "And why didn''t he?" asked Letan.


    "No one believed in him," said Saul. "Aside from forming a lynch mob, there was nothing they could do. William had a sword, legitimate achievements, and did not care about their opinion. They insisted on making him an enemy from the start so he had nothing to lose.


    "Only a fool corners a rattlesnake."


    "Do I understand that I am on display?" asked William.


    "Indeed," said Letan with a nod. "Can you illustrate the failing in my son''s logic?


    William considered it. "What you say makes sense. But I was not thinking about any of that. I was angry and humiliated, and Rundas insulted my mentor and gods. So I responded in kind."


    "And if he had thought of all that," said Jaina to one side. "Rundas would have already walked out of the room with victory. Timing is everything."


    "Even so," said Saul. "It was a foolish move. Rundas could have gained much by bridging the divide. And he would have lost nothing."


    "So what was his motive?" asked Letan.


    "Barring outside factors I don''t know about?" asked Saul. "Wounded pride."


    "The same could be said of the entire Calishan-Harlenorian feud, however," said Letan. "And every conflict in history, for that matter. Most men could live ''good'' lives if they did not stand for anything. Yet, our willingness to fight over things that do not matter is essential. Nothing is more disruptive to a functioning society than the existence of a hero. Yet without a hero, society will surely perish." He halted and looked at Lord Dunmoore. "Which reminds me, I''ve seen your knights in action every step of this journey."


    "I know," said Dunmoore. "Suran spoke for it, and Tavish Kern expressed concerns. That finally got me enough political will to disperse the troops to handle the disease. I''d had concerns about it before, but Rius'' need was pressing. Though the men are less than happy. Who can blame them?"


    Saul was observing everything in the crowd. Letan and Dunmoore began speaking with several others who approached them.And into things walked the Baron Hawkthorne. He was a man of immense girth and weight, wearing a silver chain and a red doublet.


    No one had any time for him at all, and they usually only had one or two words for him before they dismissed him. William had met him briefly and found him both terrifying and yet humorous. Now, he was walking here and there, talking to each person and making an impression. It was an odd thing that happened.


    Baron Hawkthorne would introduce himself to a group of well-dressed nobles; they would sneer at him and walk away. Hawkthorne would laugh, move on to the next and repeat the process. It happened repeatedly until he eventually came to the crowd around Suran. Quite a few women as well.


    They pretended to take no notice of Hawkthorne, but Suran pushed right past them to talk to him. Outraged, all of those who had been praising Suran immediately abandoned him. Hawkthorne was apparently a pariah. Except Hawkthorne and Suran soon began to get on quite well.


    "Hawkthorne is good," said Saul. "You see, Suran isn''t in the in-crowd. They only viewed Suran as a chance to shame you and were not providing any real opportunities. Suran has seen outside this castle and knows how delicate the nobilities position is. And he knows that those around him would serve poorly as masters.


    "Hawkthorne saw him as an asset and was eyeing him this whole time."


    "So where the others view Hawkthorne as beneath notice, Suran sees an opportunity," said Saul.


    "Tell me about Reg Hawkthorne," said William. There didn''t seem to be a better time to ask than now.


    "He has undertaken a variety of failed business ventures," said Saul. "This gamble seems like it will be his last."


    "I''m hoping to save his life," said William. "Wherever he is."


    "Why?" asked Jaina. "The man is a perfect beast."


    "Yes, but he''s being used as a scapegoat," said William. "It isn''t right."


    "He could be of value," conceded Saul. "And, if he is killed, it sets a dangerous precedent."


    The party continued, and now Suran was speaking with Hawkthorne at length, and both enjoyed the conversation. Soon, people were going to talk with Hawkthorne. Each one was given a piece of advice and sent on their way. William had no idea about the details, but it was clear he''d gained a lot of power. Hawkthorne looked up and smiled. William clapped for him, and several drunken people also began to clap.


    Several more foolish people assumed some King or others had shown up and clapped. Jaina and the other blonde clapped as well, just out of amusement. Baron Hawkthorne bowed gracefully, and everyone went back to their business.


    William paused and saw to one side Alasa eating with other elven maidens.


    But nothing could be done here, and it was even possible this castle was a trap.


    "Suran, I see you''ve found better companions already," said Duke Marn.


    Suran came forward, and at his side was the beautiful, blonde-haired girl from before. She wore a blue dress that fitted around her nicely, and her skin had a perfect complexion. Tanith had a passing resemblance but with gentler and more curious eyes. She was almost a twin for Jaina and Janice, were it not for age and hairstyle.


    That was right; Atravain and Telus were kin.


    "We had a few disagreements," said Suran, offering a hand.


    William took the hand. "By all means. I never held you in any ill will. Any conflict between us was purely a matter of nerves."


    "It is a habit you would do well to break," said Dunmoore. "Erratic movement can be a powerful move in battle. But sooner or later, you trap yourself."


    "Well, I shall soon enough enter into my own family''s lands," said William. "Once I get there, I shall join my Uncle. But I forget the Lady of the group. I do not know your name, but I met another with similar features to yourself on the road. Are you the sister of Janice and Jaina?"


    "Yes," she said, curtsying with a lack of confidence. "I am Grace. She went out to manage the plantations years ago. I uh... well, I never had the stomach for it."


    Of course. The plantations were hell; she was a good person, so she waited here. Yet she had no responsibilities, so she was trapped. "I think you should tour the place when things are safer," said William. "The land could be a paradise with a bit of organization. Your sister seemed somewhat swamped."


    "Yes, she''s been under strain a lot," said Jaina. "We all trained in Magicora together."


    What did that mean?


    It did not matter. William was forgetting Kata and the others. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Forgive me, Lord Dunmoore, but I took this to be a council of war," said William, realizing he must change the subject.


    Dunmoore paused. "I have been saying that for years. No one has ever listened."


    "Lord Dunmoore, there is someone I need to introduce you to," said Baron Hawkthorne. "May I present the Admiral of Atlan himself, Arkan Lantan?"


    Everyone went silent and looked up.


    Out of seemingly nowhere strode Arkan Lantan, clad all in black. His hair was dark and cut short, and his face was authoritative. There was an aura about him, and everyone paid full attention to him when he was there.


    The worried William. And he doubted the appearance at this point was a coincidence.


    "Ah yes, a name well known to all appropriate circles," said Suran too quickly. Dunmoore gave him a chiding look.


    Jehair and William looked at one another. Suran tried to prove him ignorant so he''d do the same.


    "He is not well-known to me," said William, moving past Suran with Jaina following. "I believe Atlan is in the Islands of Power, a defensible location. The small population makes it easy to maintain order. And out-of-the-way positioning means it is isolated from easy invasion. Chosen as a place to keep dangerous sorcerers contained. The Sorcerer''s Guild has been fond of using it as a base. You have a great many responsibilities, then."


    "You mean I am a small and unimportant monarch unworthy of the attention," said Lantan with a smile.


    "It was not my intention to give offense, Admiral," said William. "I am simply trying to figure out your connection to Lord Dunmoore and Duke Marn." And he had already guessed it, and Arkan knew he''d guessed it. So Dunmoore and Marn had to work with him to keep things running.


    "Nothing of consequence," said the Admiral before walking off while laughing. "I''ll see you at the meeting, Dunmoore."


    Jaina and Grace were now on either side of him. Mere inches away, William had to admit he liked the proximity. Numerous other people around his age looked on in anger and envy.


    "Sir, if you don''t need me, I''ll observe from elsewhere," said Felix.


    "Of course," said William. "You were named for a theme, I see."


    Some sort of repentance? Dedication to righteousness or redemption? Penance for Kafka?


    "Father was forced to do many ruthless things to break the hold of the criminals," said Grace. "And he did so with many foreign powers working against him. It was almost a civil war."


    "We were named as a kind of penance for the blood spilled," said Jaina.


    "I see," said William, looking to Marn and Dream, speaking to one side. It really didn''t matter. "You could not ask for a better opportunity to find good work if you have not already."


    "What do you mean?" asked Grace.


    "Well, there are many important people here," said William. "You seem talented and intelligent and dutiful. Seek responsibilities, and you will find some; it was how I started. Sometimes, you have to do something reckless to get started."


    Grace nodded demurely.


    "I''ve heard you spend a lot of time healing people," said Grace. "That''s very kind of you."


    "More than I wish I had to," said William, noting Suran nearby, who also wore a sword. His presence was robbing Suran of his chance at glory. "The work is inglorious and unpleasant but has to be done."


    Suran shrugged. "Believe me; I''ve received far better treatment in this place than back home. People judge you by your acts here."


    "And where are you from?" asked William.


    "Kadan," said Suran. "Antion sometimes recruits mercenaries from other worlds. It''s a growing custom. I''m from Jashin, under occupation by an empire called Bretus. It''s an Empire that rules a large part of it. They aren''t exactly tolerant."


    William stared. "With respect, Suran, foreigners in Harlenor are distrusted as well."


    "You don''t want to know," said Suran with a laugh.


    "I suppose not," said William.


    "This matter is irrelevant right now, Suran," said Marn quickly. "We have spent too long on matters of common courtesy. Bretus is a subject that requires extensive context, and we''ve no time for it now."


    "Indeed, Duke Marn," said Dunmoore. "These formalities are useful in less trying times but should be handled quickly. Suran, take my place at the party; you''ve earned it."


    "Thank you," said Suran.


    Dunmoore, placing a hand on Suran''s shoulder. "Enjoy the festivities."


    And both went off. William, for his part, looked to Grace and Jaina. He told many of the stories of his and Felix''s adventures. Jaina often asked questions about food supplies. Grace seemed more interested in people and hung on his words more.


    Grace seemed fascinated by his account of Arraxia.


    However, William focused on Suran, who spoke with Baron Hawkthorne. William found Hawkthorne''s sheer weight odd. Gods above, they were a warrior culture; how did a Harlenorian get so fat?


    "...Arkan looks worried," asked Grace.


    "What is your connection to him?" asked William.


    "He is a family friend," said Grace. "Father and he used to work together. They fought together with Dunmoore in the conquest of several islands."


    Grace looked to William. "Don''t you think you should try to be friends with Suran? You''re on the same side."


    "Why don''t you talk to everyone in this room and ask that question about their enemies," said William. This was going to be good.


    Grace halted. "Okay, sure."


    Jaina looked at William in surprise. "You realize she''d embarrass us, don''t you?"


    "For all you know, it might help," said William. "I embarrassed my house in my first battle. That doesn''t mean I was wrong to try and do it."


    Then he saw Baron Hawkthorne.


    "What is the Baron of anyway?" asked William.


    "Well," said Jaina. "You know, I don''t know. He has an extensive merchant empire. He has married into several domains. Even so, he has no direct lands to speak of. Though his niece, Fayn Benarus, is likely to inherit Gel Carn, she is a good fighter.


    "Very intelligent."


    William walked off toward Baron Hawkthorne and found him where he was, sipping wine. Then he turned to William, smiling as he. His hands were outraised; "Ah, and the King has come into his hall. What joyous company you bring to me.


    "You would be William Gabriel, I take it?"


    "Yes," said William. "And you are the illustrious Baron Hawkthorne. Your family history is quite extensive. Your mastery of social elites beyond compare."


    "Well, one has to be," said Hawkthorne, looking to Alasa. "Such beautiful creatures, elves. How I wish I could start a menagerie."


    William felt sick. Then, he remembered that he didn''t have a problem with humans being enslaved. So, the feeling made no sense. "May I be plain, Baron Hawkthorne?"


    "Of course," said Hawkthorne. "Plain as day."


    "What are you planning, and will Reg get out of it alive?" asked William.


    "Interesting thought," said Hawkthorne. "Make a note of this Suran. The value of brutal honesty as a political tool is not to be underestimated. You force them into shock when you say what everyone is thinking outright.


    "Learn from this, and we shall discuss your benevolent plans later. As for what we are planning, I am, regrettably, entirely on the level. If this business disrupts the trade lanes, we''re all going to lose a fortune." He paused. "Now, what of Reg?"


    "I managed to convince him to turn himself in," said William. "Some spoke of killing him, though Lord Rius would not allow it. I don''t know his fate now, but it might be wise to mend relations. He may hold a grudge if he must arrange for his release."


    Hawkthorne laughed. "Ah, I see. Very nice. I shall now eat, and you shall go elsewhere. Nothing galls nobility like being confronted with their responsibilities."


    A large number of people gasped in anger. William could not help but feel very pleased with the dismissal and quickly walked out of the halls.


    There was no excuse for someone of such an illustrious bloodline to be fat. None. So he saw himself out and followed Dunmoore''s path with Felix until he came to a door. There, someone was waiting, a man a little older than William. He had shoulder-length blonde hair and had a sword at his side. He was also wearing full armor and looked exasperated.


    "I''m sorry, Sir Gabriel, but Mother is in a meeting," said the man, arms crossed.


    "And why aren''t you there?" asked William.


    "She told me to wait out here," said the man. "I can''t stand these events.


    "This is technically my eighteenth birthday. But I''m not going anywhere."


    "Why do you hold them?" asked William.


    "Because we have nothing to do," said the man. "Everything outside of the party is someone else''s responsibility."


    "I believe you," said William. "Go into that room anyway."


    "I don''t think I can just walk into a meeting with so many important people," said Luke. "I''m never going to get out of this hall."


    "Then get out of the castle," said William. "Perhaps I could get you into the door if you could introduce me. If I was allowed in, you could take your place quite naturally. Sit quietly, listen, and make a suggestion."


    "Why would I allow you in?" asked the boy.


    "I have seen much of the criminal networks of Ascorn and around it," said William. "I believe I have the information they might use."


    He nodded. "I''m Luke Atravain, by the way."


    "Very well, Sir Atravain, open the door," said William.


    The door was opened as Luke smiled. "Just Luke." Then he opened the door. "Mother, William Gabriel has seen much of the situation on the ground. I think he could be of help."


    Lady Atravain was a thin-faced woman who had once been very beautiful. Her hair was going silver, and her skin had several scars on it. Her face was strained by grief, and her eyes narrowed. "...You may enter."


    Luke and William both sat down at a large, long table side by side. Luke looked very interested in the maps below.


    "William Gabriel, to what do we owe the pleasure?" asked Atravain.


    "He''s been through all of Tavish Kern''s operations," said Luke. "I know we have Jehair, but maybe we can get a second opinion." So Jehair was heading here anyway, or at least was welcome, and did not tell him.


    She must take him for a child or a fool. William would be sure she knew better henceforth.

 Chapter 147 - Nineteen: Luke Atravain Goes Forth

    The meeting hall had Duke Marn, his son, Lord Dunmoore, and many other nobles. Peters group had been invited, and Lilas was also there. Suran was not, of course, but that was to be expected; he had no rank to speak of and was an outsider.


    Luke greeted each one politely, and they seemed to know him. As he did, he halted. Marn was accompanied by a beautiful blonde woman with hair lying low. She had elegant features and with her was Saul. Both were observing silently and did not hurry to introduce themselves.


    Jaina and Grace did not attend and this William found to be odd. They had seemed bright and intelligent in their actions and could surely have been of help. But then, there were more important considerations right now.


    Rundas De Chevlon was glaring at William in hate. The fact that William now sat in the same circles as he demonstrated his failure. William looked right back at him, silently daring him to do something about it. Still, he prayed he had not made a huge mistake by confronting him as he had.


    "Saul," said Luke. "It''s been a while."


    "So it has, Luke," said Saul. "You walk in the new company."


    "Oh, William and I fell in together on the way in," said Luke. "William, this is Saul, Duke Marn. And the Duke''s wife, Jessera."


    "It is a pleasure to meet you," said Jessera.


    "Mother, why was I called here?" asked Luke.


    "Your socializing can wait, Luke. This meeting is of great import and concerns you," said Atravain. "As for why you were left in the hall, I was hoping you would work up the will to come in before I called you. Bringing Sir Gabriel was also a good move. Well done."


    Luke nodded and looked to William, and the gaze was followed by those two. Saul was just observing everything. "...I''ve read your book. I see you have a scar, after all."


    "It hurts sometimes," said William. "But you usually pick up a few scars fighting. Haldrenians regard it as a mark of pride."


    Silence.


    William noted no one, even Lord Dunmoore, had very many scars visible. He wondered if they had their wounds healed more effectively. Some of the men here seemed, for lack of a better word, weak. Their clothes were fine, and they were trying to look important. But they lacked Dunmoore''s grip.


    "I gather Antion has better healing," said William.


    "Scars are considered unseemly," said Dunmoore. "So most Antion nobility don''t have them. It has to do with how we think and heal."


    "Perhaps we should move on to the subject of the meeting at hand," said Atravain.


    "As you wish," said Letan. "Lord Dunmoore, perhaps you should begin things."


    "The bandit problem we''ve been dealing with has grown worse," said Dunmoore. "Many of the escaped slaves have formed into communities. Communities that thrive on criminal organizations. The satyrs seem to be flocking to the Castle of Blackfear. Though it was once called Radiant Guard and was the home of Sir Orson the Shining of old. It lies on the borders with the Border hills.


    "Neral Dinis, the land to the west of those marshes, and they are well hidden with all the marshes and forests. Often they send new raiding parties to take slaves and kidnap our people. We''ve had several skirmishes with them." No emotional reaction from Saul, none. Luke looked concerned.


    "What of Brisgald? Could they not provide support?" asked Luke.


    "Brisgald has been occupied with the war up north," said Marn. "Lord Arthur Gabriel seems to have been left alone by them. And by all accounts, he seems to have all his focus on supporting the Khasmir Campaign. Ships have been going up Savior''s Run all this time without being harassed."


    "Your ships seemed to have been blessed by the gods, Sir Gabriel?" said Rundas. "Or perhaps Arraxia."


    "I became a close friend of the Dreaming Goddess Kiyora. I saved her life at one point," said William, ignoring the bait. "That much was in my book."


    "I wonder," said Rundas. "Lady Atravain, I don''t see any reason an agent of Arraxia should be here."


    No one said anything.


    Dueling was outlawed.


    "Are you an agent of Arraxia?" asked Atravain.


    William laughed at that, despite himself as he remembered his past meetings with the insufferable woman. "No, she has tried to kill me three times, and I have done the same to her," said William. "Thus far, we have simply missed our chance."


    "That much is easily verifiable," said Marn.


    "My son has vouched for him," said Atravain. "As has Jehair.


    "I see no reason to throw him out and insult Duke Vanion. He is a very important individual of a noble line." Rundas looked around as if it were slowly dawning on him how alone he was in the room.


    "I found some of the technology descriptions amazing in that book," said Luke suddenly. "I''ve been trying to figure out how all of it works. Do you suppose Kiyora would tell me about it a bit?"


    "Perhaps I could be of some assistance in that, Luke," said Marn. "My offworld operations often have contact with such things. I could bring you a few devices with the manuals. Perhaps some experts, though there be expenses." Could Letan be representing an off-world power?


    There seemed to be several people from other worlds.


    "No need for that," said William. "Kiyora is quite personal. Pray long enough to her, and she should show up. If that doesn''t work, try Seathorius. Then, you could set up trade relations with the Nakmar and hope to meet her.


    "If not, I''ll mention you wanted to talk to her next time I see her." An element of scorn in Rundas'' eyes. What was scornful about talking to the gods? But William could say nothing.


    "Do you consider faith a weakness, Bishop?" asked Saul.


    "The faith in this land is my property," replied Rundas simply. "This Paladin threatened the Bishop Joffrey of Ascorn. He has broken the established traditions and rules of the church. His actions have destroyed the profitability of many of our holdings."


    "There were hundreds of people wasting away in the street," said William. "They were starving, beset by disease-"


    "I don''t care about that," said Rundas. "And neither do you! This is sabotage! He''s cutting into the business interests of everyone here!


    "He shut down our operations, whipped them all into a frenzy, and lost a small fortune! Not to mention damage the income of many of my agents!


    "He''s attacking the church! This is an active campaign to ruin our business interests! High Priest Cirithil expects regular income! I know for a fact he came down here on the direct request of Raynald De Chevlon!


    "Raynald sent him here to ruin me!"


    "The people of Ascorn were not capable of paying the prices you asked," said William.


    "Stop distracting from the point!" said Rundas. "We have a system where they provide a number of days of work for healing. If they don''t want to use that system, that''s their problem."


    Silence.


    "Are you suggesting that personal fortune take a higher priority than the work of Elranor?" asked the freckled woman from before. "Just who the hell do you think you think you-"


    Atravain raised a hand for silence. The woman nodded. "Forgive me Lady Atravain."


    "You are pardoned," said Atravain. "William, Rundas makes a point worthy of consideration. Your actions do seem to have done great harm to the church. Can you account for this?"


    "The city was in complete disrepair," said William. "People were beset by dozens of diseases and were menaced by gangs. It has always been my custom to heal others and seeing children dying in the streets, I did so where I walked.


    "Ascorn is one of the most traveled ports in Harlenor. The diseases which started there have come here. The Healer''s Guild was, to my eyes, taking no action at all. Neither to help the populace nor assist in liberating Lord Rius from being a prisoner in his own city.


    "I have seen something of Tavish Kern''s operations. Nobility is not respected, if not outright hated among them. Jehair affords more respect among them than one of noble lineage."


    "None taken," said Jehair.


    "What are you saying?" asked Luke.


    "It would take only a charismatic warrior with too much ambition," said William. "All they would have to do is convince people that the situation in Ascorn was a deliberate attack on them.


    "The population is sick, tired, and feel ill-treated, and Rius was given no help by the church. Far from it, they seemed to have a niche among the gangs. The Healer''s Guild has taken to arresting people who try to address the problem. And agents of King Gavin have been primary movers in-"


    "You lie!" said Rundas. "I won''t listen to any more of this! Either he leaves this room, or I do!"


    William looked to Atravain. "Your will?"


    Atravain paused. "You may depart if you so desire, Bishop."


    That had been a bad move. Rundas had thrown down an ultimatum that could not be drawn back without losing face. And worse still, he had done so from a position of weakness, while William had become comparatively strong.


    Rundas stood up and walked out in a huff, slamming the door behind him. Atravain closed her eyes and put her face in her hands. "I miss Kafka. This sort of thing never happened while he was with us. Let us put aside popular revolution for another day. You have the favor of the Dreaming Goddess?"


    "Well, if you seek a more worldly explanation. We beat the satyrs in battle and have close relationships with the Nakmar," said William. "Some of them have become quite rich thanks to us, so we have made security arrangements. And we have built a temple in her honor."


    "Ah, yes," said Atravain. "That makes more sense. I confess I have never had any interest in matters of faith. I begin to think I have paid too little attention to the faith''s worldly representatives.


    "Perhaps-"


    "Is that the Black Sword?" asked Luke suddenly, looking down.


    Atravain blinked, and William was surprised but nodded. "Yes, I keep it with me always.


    "It was broken, harming Laughing Wraith, and reforged while I was unconscious. Felix holds its brother, both made by Moira, a great smith of the Nakmar."


    "May I?" asked Luke.


    William shrugged and drew the blade to hand it to Luke. Luke took it and stood up, holding it in a careful grip. His stance was a bit sloppy at first, but he adjusted it quickly. "Hmm, it''s very heavy. Heavier than the sort of blades used by us.


    "Meant by vicious blows."


    "Haldrenian Berserkang is based around raw, brutal power," said William. "Raynald is a master of it, the best swordsman in the world, I think. The only rival I know of would be Tanith."


    "Abdul Sahshir might have something to say to both of them," said Jehair. "He severely wounded two gods."


    "I was always told that Raynald and my Father, Kafka, got on well," said Luke, handing the sword back and sitting down.


    "I''m quite familiar with Edmund Telus," said William. "If you meet him, he may know more. Though, I admit, little has been spoken of his work."


    "Kafka did what had to be done," said Atravain. "It was nasty, unpleasant, but without it, criminals would be running this nation. Similar to how your house viewed Raynald De Chevlon''s two-hour massacre."


    "I''m not familiar with that story," said Saul.


    "Raynald accused sixteen nobles of corruption who were his political enemies," said William. "And he killed every single one of them in duels. You see, he figured out how they were related. And he killed them in an order that made others challenge him to a duel.


    "In two hours, he cut down a third of the influential people in the city of Antion with perfect legality. King Andoa, desiring peace, exiled him from the city. Before he left, Raynald swore he would send a student to avenge him." William paused. "I had completely forgotten that part of the story until now.


    "I''d assumed it would be Tanith."


    "As did we," said Atravain. "Raynald was poorly treated wherever he went. Particularly during the incident with Princess Nyx of the Amazons.


    "And his House consistently refused to avenge him."


    "I see now that he means to use you for this. You might be interested to know that your Father tried to have my husband Kafka assassinated."


    "My Father is no assassin," said William. "He never uses such tactics. On the contrary, he believes them to be utterly useless."


    "Yes, so imagine how much they hated one another that Vanion would use such tactics," said Atravain. "Kafka and Vanion started out disliking one another, and it only became worse from there. They had opposite views of how virtually everything should be done.


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    "Worse still, they kept being put on quests together, and they never once became friends. Finally, something happened in Themious that turned them into hated enemies. Edmund Telus never forgave his brother.


    "I suppose I should thank Vanion, it was how I married Kafka in the first place."


    "I have heard that story before," said William. "Though with a different protagonist. With proper sources, I might be able to compile documentation on it."


    "I may send you some," said Atravain, smiling.


    "We should return to the matter at hand," said Letan, looking very uncomfortable


    And so began lengthy explanations where William had to go over his story several more times. Atravain began to look angrier and angrier as she heard the accounts and had them verified by Dunmoore. Suran had made similar reports.


    "The Furbearers that were sold to you should be released, or at least sold back to their own people," said Dunmoore. "Princess Kata, the Furbearer Leader, was instrumental in driving the Babarassians out.


    "I expect she now has a position of real weight with Lord Rius. Given what has happened, Lord Rius may believe that you had some part to play in his overthrow."


    "Princess Kata is intelligent and good of heart, but she does not know these lands," said William. "She is likely to regard you as villains. And bringing an army to the gates of Ascorn would serve no purpose.


    "Indeed, it might serve to make Rius fear you mean him harm."


    "The boy is right," said Letan. "We should demonstrate your control of the situation and your benevolence. But, more importantly, you may also use this chance to speak to those you tend to. Asking a few relevant questions to each person will provide much information. Once you have that, you shall know the nature of Tavish''s forces.


    "Tavish''s men are largely his out of desperation if all this is true.


    "They have no alternative, so they have turned to one they do not understand. But they do not love him, and I do not think they could be easily rallied. Were you to identify the ringleaders and imprison them, I expect they would not move against you."


    "What makes you certain he''ll raise rebellion?" asked Atravain.


    "He is an evil man who has gained power by unjust means," said Dunmoore. "Simply by being aware of the cancer he has put on society, you have become a threat to him. Any attempt to bring his efforts to heal will force him to seek rebellion to keep his unjust gains. And if he is not evil, then he will do so on behalf of the beleaguered commoners he believes he is fighting for.


    "Even if he is only after his own self-interest, he''ll want to show strength. My Paladins ought to carry out the task."


    "With respect, Lord Dunmoore, your Paladins are easily recognized," said Letan. "And they do not have contacts among these people. I fear, in their zeal, they might create a war.


    "It would be better for my forces to carry out the plan."


    "No," said Luke. "I''ll go."


    "And I''ll go with him," said Peter. "We can handle this."


    "I''ll go as well," said Saul.


    "You have many sources, Jehair. Will they be of use here?" said Dunmoore.


    "At the moment, I am employed as a guide to William," said Jehair. "If he bids me provide guidance to you, I may do so."


    "I have pressing business in Gel Carn," said William. "And other areas will need my healing abilities."


    "Is it wise to assign so important an operation to one untried?" asked Letan.


    "I have not seen battle," said Luke. "But, I am trained in sword and spear, and I have learned tactics from my masters. And my sisters have great knowledge of things."


    "It shall be so," said Atravain.


    Letan''s eyes darkened for a moment, and then shook his head.


    "There is one matter that concerns me," said Letan. "Let us put aside the question of the Furbearers and face economic reality. Shipments of slaves are necessary to till the fields. Therefore, if what you say is true, Princess Kata is likely to shut down the trade."


    "Princess Kata will not be in Ascorn forever," said William. "And at the moment, all trade has shut down anyway. Rius, when last I left, was contemplating a campaign in Haldren to drive out the Babarassians.


    "Certainly, he has a cause of war on them."


    "You don''t really suppose it will come to that, do you?" asked Peter.


    "Why not?" asked Luke. "They went in and wrecked his city. Tavish obviously controls a lot of territories. If I were Rius, I''d want a piece of the action."


    "And you should not," said Atravain.


    "I don''t know anything," said William. "It is my hope that King Gavin has good reason for what is happening."


    "What about Reg Hawkthorne?" asked Luke. "Isn''t he the one behind this?"


    "It would be more accurate to say that Reg is the man in front of this," said Letan. "I do not think he set himself up alone. Someone else put him in place."


    "Lord Rius believes that he was set up to cover some other design," said William. "And Reg himself claims to have been put up by Neral Dinis."


    "Neral Dinis of Castle Blackfear?" asked Luke. "Do you think he is responsible for all of this?"


    "I intend to ask him when I get there," said William.


    Murmurs of shock.


    "You can''t go there!" said Luke. "The place is ruled by vampires, and the dead stalk those lands. The werewolf Larxe and her blood cult reign. You can hear werewolves howling all night and day.


    "Many of the villages which once populated that place have faded away. Elvish ghosts and worse things can be seen everywhere. People are disappearing in whole villages lately."


    "I think I will have a better chance," said William. "My Father''s longstanding friendship with Raynald De Chevlon has connected us to him. If Neral Dinis kills me, he will have a serious problem with his superiors. And I''d be more valuable as a hostage, anyway.


    "And if indeed he is responsible for it, I must ask for an accounting. I''m afraid my house has been too focused on Calisha and Khasmir. Our eyes have not turned back home nearly enough."


    "The truce may have been for the best, in that case," said Dunmoore.


    "There is another matter," said Letan. "Tensions are rising in the sea of power, Atravain. Sorn has been making aggressive moves toward Dinis.


    "And Sen Kaba, the merchant Lord, has a stranglehold on the iron market."


    "We can''t do anything about that right now," said Luke.


    "I agree," said Peter. "It''s too far away. We have to deal with what''s here and now."


    "I may be of some assistance here," said Jehair. "The Druids of Laevian are not far off, and I could arrange for some to be brought down here to aid you. They will be able to deal with any outbreaks of plague and may also be able to help you get the most out of limited resources.


    "Of course, they will have a price. Certain glades to become off-limits. Certain fields that lie fallow would have to remain so."


    "We might as well do both," said Luke.


    "What of the labor shortage?" asked Atravain. "Or do you want the entire nation to starve to death? My domain is not the only one suffering from a lack of workers."


    "Why don''t we just invite people back in?" asked Luke.


    "And give up what we bought with our own finances?" asked Atravain. "Their poor decisions led to the loss. Why should we pay the price?"


    "Doing so would undercut the problem of bandits, Atravain," said Dunmoore. "Many within Tavish''s holdings don''t have much to do. It is becoming overpopulated.


    "This a matter most grave, Atravain. And some of the responsibility is yours.


    "I think that we should demonstrate proper contrition."


    "Contrition?" said Atravain in a fury. "You base your operations in a gilded palace! Squires toil away, washing up marble floors while the streets go to ruin. Perhaps you could work the fields if you are of such limitless humility, Dunmoore."


    "I seem to recall you put some of those people in those streets, Atravain," said Dunmoore.


    "Friends, please," said Lilas, who William had hardly noticed. What was he doing here, and why had he not approached William? Was he trying to stay beneath notice? "This feuding will not help our situation.


    "Lord Dunmoore, the plan you propose might be for the best; however, it would never work. Land rights are not well documented in this part of Harlenor. We could not give the land back to each person that bought it, even if it were the right solution.


    "Nor could we sell it back, for the people we would be selling to do not have the money."


    "Why don''t we let them work for the land?" asked Luke. "We can set a price on a given place of land and offer them the chance to work that plot of land. We set a price on that land, and they work it on our behalf. Once they have made a certain amount for us on it, the land will go back to them.


    "There are a lot of fields we have that we aren''t using for anything because we haven''t been able to expand fast enough. We could increase our rate of profit and solve the problem."


    "How would you assign the value of this land?" asked Saul, and Lilas looked up in surprise.


    "It would be better to set a number of years they must work for us," said Letan. Us? He said ''us''? So he was doing it too. "And once they have the land, they would resume their old status and pay us a tithe. We could even arrange for the tithe to be higher than before and other restrictions. They do not have any other alternative."


    "What of the Furbearers?" asked William.


    "What of them?" asked Letan.


    "Those who have already been enslaved," said William. "Their presence may cause you some very serious problems if they remain here. Especially since, if this system works, they are of no more use. And I don''t think they can be reclaimed without blood in the streets of Ascorn." He hated dismissing Kata like this, but they did not know her.


    "I paid a great deal of money for them," said Atravain.


    "Then perhaps you could get that money back, Luke," said Peter. "The Healer''s Guild has gone beyond the realm of simple thievery. They have endangered the entire nation. They are an enemy who has attacked your domain.


    "And they tried to force us to make an enemy of House Gabriel. There was no need for any of this, and they created a crisis anyway!"


    "Peter," said Rutger, who had dismissed William as a guide. "Rundas is a Bishop.


    "Be silent!"


    "No, I will not be silent, Rutger," said Peter. "The church is a disgrace!


    "My House, House Bailey pays a lot of money in taxes to them, and so do our people. And for it, they bargained off all their responsibilities to the Healers Guild. You''ve seen the people who work in those lodges.


    "They spend their time playing dice, buying and selling. Half their business is in trade, while people waste away outside. And everyone who looks at them knows the church put them up. And they see good people who try to fill in for them get beaten to a bloody pulp.


    "Luke, you remember that foreign Priestess of Jaha? She just wanted to help people, and they sent men with clubs. We had to bend the rules just to keep her from getting beaten to death. They sneer at real priests and make them prisoners in the parish and force us to pay huge sums.


    "We''re paying them a lot of money and publically disgracing ourselves for a job they don''t do!"


    Silence again.


    "Peter is right," said Luke. "I could probably do a better job than them. I know a bit about tending injuries from Alasa."


    "Does anyone have a counterpoint?" asked Atravain.


    No one said anything.


    "It might be wise to seize any finances and records they have," said William. "If the Healer''s Guild does have any connections to crime, we could hunt down their contacts. And the money could be an acceptable refund for the loss of revenue."


    "We could hire some hands in the short term to get the harvest in," said Luke. "Not perfect, but it could work. If we release all the remaining Furbearer slaves we have and maybe buy up some others, we can send them back.


    "Then Kata won''t have any incentive to stay around."


    "Once she has her people, she has no reason to remain," said Letan. "And if she does, she will lose all sympathy. The loss will probably pale in comparison to the price of keeping Ascorn closed, Atravain."


    "No," said Rutger. "The other nobles will never cooperate with this. You can''t get them to give up their slaves. They''ll fight you tooth and nail."


    "Then we''ll be the only ones'' bringing in a crop," said Luke.


    "In that regard," said Lilas. "I have inspected the grain supply in Ascorn. Many there are going hungry. I would like to offer some of my personal stores to stave off revolution, if you will it."


    "I do," said Atravain. "And I shall remember the donation."


    And that more or less settled that.


    Many other discussions were had that dealt with satyrs and other dangerous matters. It was just starting to get boring. At that moment, however, a door opened. Alasa. "Lady Atravain, there is an uh... chimera here to see Sir William."


    "A chimera?" asked Atravain.


    "Ah, Massacre is here at last. Farasa smiles on us, and we may begin at once," said William.


    "Who is this Massacre?" asked Letan.


    "A friend," said William. "Lady Atravain, Lord Dunmoore, Duke Letan, I apologize, but I must leave at once. For all, we know Neral Dinis could be preparing war as we speak, and if so, I must know it.


    "I shall bring you word of my findings as soon as I can. Jehair, let''s go."


    "Elranor be with you," said Dunmoore.


    William hurried out as quick as he could, donning his armor in full with Felix and then going to the gates. He nodded to Alara as he did so, noticing she was packing her bags. "Where are you going?"


    "To take care of some business operations for the Lady Atravain," said Alara. "She often needs help with finances. At present, she wants me to arrange for a meeting with the other plantations."


    "Take some guards," said William. "I mean it. Don''t go anywhere alone and rest in well-populated areas. Stop for nothing and trust no one.


    "It might be nothing. But I think things are about to get violent."


    Alasa halted. "Has it really gotten to that point?"


    "I don''t know," said William. "But if things escalate, it''ll be bad for everyone. If you can, get news to Queen Dawn and tell her something has to be done.


    "If things go badly enough, the elves may be our only hope." Why had he said that? "...What is the nature of your employment?"


    "I''m just a humble servant," said Alasa. "Many of my fellows stay for Master Luke. They are very fond of him. I am simply the manager."


    William nodded. "He''ll need your help.


    "Actually, everyone will at this rate."


    As William was going out the door, Luke came out in armor. "William, let me come with you. I''m a good swordfighter and skilled at arms. You''ll need all the help you can get."


    "As much as I would love that, you''ve got work to do," said William. "Your people will need you to provide leadership and settle problems at home. If things fall apart here, it won''t matter one whit what happens in Blackfear.


    "As for me, I''m well-guarded, and my family is near at hand. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You''re the lynchpin to all this."


    "Me, why?" asked Luke.


    "The Paladins are well-intentioned, but they don''t know this place. And their first loyalty is to Antion as a whole," said William. "Your Mother is shrewd and wise but cannot both rule and act.


    "She''ll need your help for this. Both as a warrior and an observer.


    "When you walk abroad, you see things that maps and records can''t show you."


    Luke paused. "Do you think Rius is a traitor?"


    "No," said William. "I think Lord Rius may have interests that are contrary to yours. Nobody is exactly who they appear. Men who appear just and moral might only be so for fear of the noose.


    "I was somebody completely different when I met with Tavish Kern. Just as I was someone different when I met with Tanith or with Rius."


    "And is this the real you?" asked Luke.


    William halted. "I have no idea, Luke.


    "There are only two ways that you can see who a person really is. One is to give them power over another person without fear of repercussions. And the other is to remove all their power and render them helpless.


    "I''ve been rendered helpless before."


    "What did you do?" asked Luke.


    "I prayed for help, and I got it," said William. "You''d be surprised how useful prayer can be. Even if you don''t always get an immediate response, it can help you focus."


    "Right, well, I suppose we both have our adventures to attend to," said Luke, looking away.


    "Yes," said William. "Come see me in Artarq, sometimes. I think you''d like the artwork, and friends are the rarest resource of all."


    "I might take you up on that," said Luke. "May I be honest?


    "I never wanted any of this. I don''t want to manage a plantation of slaves or crucify people. I want to go into battle and win glory against demons and orcs of old. I want glory and honor, but there is none of that here."


    "You''ve got responsibilities, Luke," said William, putting a hand on his shoulders. "Watch over these lands carefully, and you''ll find all the adventure you can stomach.


    "You and I are heroes of two different stories."


    And they parted ways.


    Felix was waiting outside, as was Massacre. Felix was sitting on a rock while Massacre was munching on a rabbit.


    "Bah," said Massacre, coming forward.


    "You certainly took your time," said William.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "What do you mean you were bringing a flock of sheep back to fold?" asked William. "You haven''t been hunting the Nakmar''s flocks, have you?"


    "Bah!'' said Massacre irritably.


    "Well, how was I supposed to know you were speaking metaphorically. You love eating sheep," said William.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Let''s just find Felix," said William.


    "You seem to get on well with this creature," said Jehair, smiling and kneeling down by her. "Tell me, is Massacre your real name."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Seldom have I heard such fair speech from a goat," said Jehair.


    "We''re going into the wilds," said William. "Take us by roads that are hard to follow. The Paladins can handle the rest."


    Lilas grain shipment left quickly.


    As though prepared in advance.


    "Dunmoore is moving in on the church''s territory," said Jehair. "The Paladin Order has just seized a great deal of ground."


    William shrugged. "What of it? I doubt they could run the place any worse."


    They set out on that note.

 Chapter 148 - Epilogue of Book One:

    Lord Dunmoore was in a very, very, good mood. Even if he would never admit it.


    Of course, it was nice to have someone remember his victories. But, in truth, it was the satisfaction of revenge that Dunmoore enjoyed more.


    The inward howls of impudent fury he''d seen on the faces of his ''friends'' had been addicting. He''d seen how it was, and Letan reeled back. He had been more hurt by William''s blundering good intentions than he had ever been by knives. The degradation these knaves had felt that a Paladin of fifteen could outfight them.


    By the Gods, it was liberating to see Atravain''s daughters coming into their own. To play hostess to these spoiled wretches was a fate such beautiful and intelligent girls did not deserve. But better still, Arkan and Letan and all the other scoundrels of noble blood had gotten beaten so easily. So final glorious battle, no moment of total dominance.


    Complete annihilation.


    The darkness that had been thrown over the eyes of the nobles, willing or no, was shattered. And those spoiled creatures who disgraced their lineage by drinking were waking up. Whether they liked it or not. Even now, the wretches were aware their livelihoods were threatened. They feared a world moving past them, not needing them anymore, though they did not realize it.


    So some scurried in their fear to back a righteous cause. And those who had never departed that cause now went forth to fight.


    However, what bothered Dunmoore was that he got through so easily!


    No mass hanging, no death in battle by vengeful heroes, no heroic peasant revolt. Their machinations were defeated, and they got off scot-free. The truth of their crimes had been shown to them all, and Dunmoore had let them go.


    What now of this meeting? This impromptu session was where murderers and thieves, and nobility were yelling. They were blaming everyone but themselves for the trap they had dug with their own hands.


    It was pathetic. But there were some notable figures here.


    "Well," said Lilas. "Things seem to be going badly for our friends in the church."


    "No, they''re going well," said Dunmoore. "There is nothing that the priests of Elranor hate more than Elranor himself."


    "Dunmoore is right," said Arkan. "I suspect that Cirithil and his cronies made an infernal pact long ago. Whatever the force was, it gave them protection and limitless wealth and luxury. In exchange, they discredit and destroy their faith. Cirithil has better luck than his skill warrants, it can''t be natural.


    "From that perspective, Rundas'' outburst is simply the final step. Demons usually break their tools.


    "The church has been discredited by noble and commoner alike. The Paladin Order cannot hope to fill the void ripped open.


    "House Gabriel might have salvaged it through Rundas. But that route of escape is now altogether ruined. I expect the Bride of Elranor shall be eaten alive by new suitors."


    "Be assured, Arkan, those demons regard us as tools as well," said Dunmoore. "They will seek to break us."


    "What makes you say they''re demonically possessed?" asked Tavish, who knew a thing or two.


    "It''s something about their eyes," said Gavkin, who knew a thing or two about this. "When someone is deep enough in demonic influence, their eyes go dead. But, usually, they can fake being alive well enough when in a social situation.


    "But put them in a position where their master''s plans are threatened, and you can see who they are. They don''t usually have any will left in the matter, being wholly ensnared by the darkness."


    "I wouldn''t know," said Lamech, whose eyes were flaring a particularly bright shade of yellow. He seemed absurdly pleased by this turn of events. It might be necessary to smite that one, for his own sake as well as the world''s. Child though he was, Lamech was a powerful blackguard and had to be removed.


    It was the only move against the demons they could make. That worried Dunmoore.


    "Alright, keep your secrets Lamech," said Tavish. "But I know you had something to do with this."


    "If you''re referring to a string of mysterious murders of ''good'' priests," said Lamech. "I was eleven years old."


    "I wasn''t aware you liked gambling," said Tavish, raising an eyebrow.


    "I prefer to see it as a leap of faith," said Lamech.


    Both of them laughed at this, and many others started laughing as well. Dunmoore remained silent as he contemplated matters. Arkan, on the other hand, had his face go stony and began to contemplate, his eyes turning to malice toward his adopted son. Dunmoore met the gaze and then looked to Lamech.


    Well, that was it.


    Lamech needed to die. The old High Priest Alonsus had been like a Father to Dunmoore and inspired him to become a Paladin. But if Lamech was hoping to get an emotional reaction from him, he''d be disappointed.


    Tavish was the closest thing to someone who was sympathetic in this mess. He was a slaving, traitorous murderer. His main redeeming quality was to family, and even he knew it wasn''t going to last. The last Dunmoore had heard, Tavish was trying to get out, though he had a sword at his side.


    Lamech would stop that, so the relationship had to be cut. There was Lamech, in black armor as always. His sword was on hand because nobody would ever dare try to take it away from him.


    Finally, there was Lord Dunmoore himself. A hypocrite without conscience who had betrayed the spirit of his oath. This loathsome image of the splendor of knights of old was no knight at all. Simply a charlatan with great experience in battle.


    Dunmoore hoped these miserable wretches might destroy one another. That was nothing to arrange; the problem was doing it in a way that did not hurt the innocent.


    Dunmoore had his as well, though the thieves had been disarmed here. He was thinking everything that Dunmoore was thinking right now. Dunmoore had tried to get him honest work, and he''d used him as a tool to make a pact with infernal powers. Lamech, an image of hell, stared back at him and their gaze met in silent challenge.


    "In the meantime," said Dunmoore. "We have one another to settle with."


    There was no laughter there.


    They might have found it funny if Arkan had said it, but Arkan looked to be in a bad mood. He usually got like this when his plans didn''t go as he liked. Even now, he feared his plans slipping beyond his grasp. Worst of all, he was far from Antion and his planned escape route. So if things went badly enough, he might suffer consequences for his action.


    But, as much as Dunmoore would like to watch that happen, he was obligated to salvage the situation. The problem was that the royal family was involved in this. So until such a time as they could cut these parasites loose, the system had to be maintained.


    That meant they needed a common enemy.


    "Prince Aras is becoming more powerful by the day," said Dunmoore. "Reg Hawkthorne is still unaccounted for, and his documentation is being examined. The plague is no longer a disruption, so Atravain has a free hand. And thanks to Lamech''s well-placed contacts, the church is useless to us.


    "Many of our contacts in the Paladin Order have cut contact overnight. And even Jehair seems to have all but taken his side."


    "If I recall, Lord Dunmoore, you were supposed to keep the nobles wining and dining," said Lilas. He was thin-wristed and ever the helpful social climber. "With the church discredited, the Paladin Order has increased in power."


    "The church was already discredited," said Tavish.


    "I was merely noting that the Lord Dunmoore refused to intercede on Rundas'' behalf," said Lilas.


    "Rundas was stupid," said Dunmoore. "He began a confrontation he wasn''t prepared for and lost it when the nobility stuck by their own.


    "He had already lost the battle by the time William entered the castle. Spitting in his face only made William realize who his enemy was."


    "And why didn''t you keep him at the castle?" asked Lilas. "Now he''s gone off into nowhere. Dealing with him will be much more difficult now."


    Lilas all but ran Ascorn and let Rius run it into the ground while remaining guilt-free. Dunmoore guessed Lilas planned to trade up from his holdings to run Ascorn. He''d abandoned the wood reached to the druid''s ages ago. And Jehair was now the general go-between in that location.


    "And how am I supposed to prepare for a chimera walking up and asking for an audience?" asked Dunmoore. "Or for him to convince Atravain to sell us up the river.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "Now her family are on the warpath against our holdings."


    "The work that William Gabriel began, Luke is going to finish. And my Paladins have been put in a position where we must assist him.


    "What did you take his message for, Tavish?!"


    "Screw you, got mine," said Tavish with a shrug.


    "Would you like to say that again louder so we can hear it," said Lamech, with a smile. He almost seemed like he liked Tavish. Theirs was an odd friendship that could end with a knife blow at any time.


    "Screw you, got mine," said Tavish. "I''ve got a job to do that has nothing to do with Antion. Lord Kern has an operation he wants done; working with Gabriel let me advance that operation. It smooths over a lot of problems, and now I have an in.


    "I take my orders from him."


    "Lilas, has come out of this looking very well," said Arkan, turning to him. "Perhaps we can arrange him a more favorable position once House Gabriel packs up and leaves. Rius obviously can''t be relied on.


    "Lilas and Sir Gabriel did get on well, after all."


    "I stand ready to serve in whatever way the Thieves Guild desires," said Lilas.


    This was ridiculous.


    Lilas attempt at a powerplay was only going to get him killed. The man did not appreciate the necessity for martial prowess. Perhaps it would be good to give him a fair warning and assert dominance. Still, not without provocation, Lilas had not done anything to Dunmoore yet.


    "So you have said," said Lamech. "Which makes this all your fault either way."


    Oh, so Lamech was going for a confrontation? Good, Dunmoore hadn''t killed a Blackguard in a long time. Best to play along. "I don''t have to take that from you, Lamech, you faithless mongrel."


    "Enough," said Arkan.


    "Arkan?" asked Tavish, who had always gotten on well.


    "I''ve been looking over the maps," said Arkan. "William''s pattern is apparent."


    "Pattern?" asked Tavish. "He''s been wandering this whole time aimlessly."


    "No, he has not," said Arkan. "He has a very determined purpose, thus why he is able to move so quickly. As far as I can tell, he has two goals.


    "First, to stop the plague by any means necessary. Second, to dismantle our organizations.


    "Raynald and Rusara knew this to be how he would react, thus why they sent him. Jehair is a professional and likely steering him to that end. Her own agenda would only be helped by our destruction at this stage."


    "Both have fled east, and the attacks on their holdings begin even now.


    "Of course, William knows he''s being used. But he''ll do as he has been trained to do because he likes doing it. And, at this stage, he has no incentive not to cooperate with Raynald''s plans." Lilas was looking with interest. "Raynald trained his attack dog well."


    "So you have no plan for a hero?" asked Dunmoore, incredulous.


    "The plan has always been to be the lesser evil," said Arkan. "We make sure we are the least vile of the ''evil'' factions and ally against the vampires. The naive, wide-eyed idealists need someone to guide them. They use our help, live happily ever after and decide we''re not total monsters."


    "It won''t work on Gabriel," said Lamech.


    "Oh, come off it," said Tavish. "He''s just trying to get to Gel Carn and got sidetracked."


    "William is intelligent and highly motivated," said Lamech. "He finds our existence abhorrent. He may not ''want'' to be here, but he will not forget us again. Luxury has no hold over him; he camped in the street to save on silver. His healing powers give him the pretext to go where he wishes. And he is a dangerous warrior with powerful companions.


    "Our enemy cannot be bargained with, negotiated with, or bribed."


    "Well, then, Dunmoore," said Lilas. "Perhaps you should take your best men you can rely on, find William Gabriel, and kill him immediately. He is, after all, your subordinate." That seemed provocation enough.


    But something more ought to be brought out. "Considering your position in the church, Lilas, you have little fear of Elranor."


    "In my experience," said Lilas with a smirk. "The gods help those who help themselves. And usually not in their name." And he dangled a symbol of Elranor before pocketing it. "Very nice silver.


    "But the simple is a bit outworn."


    That was enough atheism from the priesthood.


    Dunmoore punched Lilas in the face, breaking his nose and sending him floor to the ground with a cry. As he tried to get up, Dunmoore kicked him in the crotch with an armored boot. Then drawing his sword, he raised it to kill him right there and then. Lilas staggered back, staring up in terror.


    "Dunmoore, if you kill Lilas, we have no puppet in Ascorn," said Arkan with a sigh. "You know how important that port is to operations. And Rius is done for at this point. Besides, Lamech is right.


    "This is not personal, it is not political, and it has nothing to do with religion. It is necessary for Sir Gabriel to be taken out of the picture."


    Dunmoore sheathed his sword as Lilas gasped in fear beneath him, pulling until he was backed into the corner. Turning away, Dunmoore changed his mind, turned, and stepped on Lilas'' leg until he heard the snap. Lilas screamed, and Dunmoore turned around as a single, sorrowful tear went down his cheek.


    Lilas had begun to sob uncontrollably in agony.


    "What the hell are you complaining about, archdeacon?" asked Tavish. "You and your buddies own the Healers Guild? If you can''t pay the listed prices, I''ve no sympathy at all."


    "I don''t think he can walk like this," said Lamech in amusement.


    "I''ve walked with a broken leg before," said Arkan in irritation. "And walking out of this room in a splint could attract attention."


    "Dunmoore, heal him. You''ve made your point."


    Dunmoore nodded and turned to heal him. Setting his hand on his leg, Dunmoore channeled the power of Elranor. It felt foreign, but the leg knitted, as did his nose and he helped him up. "Lilas, don''t ever insult the gods in my presence again."


    Lilas was white-faced and shuddered and Dunmoore moved him over to a seat. Lamech motioned to two men who poured him a drink. Lilas took it and drank it while gasping. "Alright, Lilas. Have a drink and we''ll think about your proposition. Just remember; Being under a noble''s roof is no protection when you are suggesting murdering a noble.


    "Especially one who is the son of somebody much more important than you."


    "You cannot simply cut down the scion of a great house in public," said Dunmoore.


    "Then find him in a dark place far from help and kill him in his sleep," said Arkan.


    "And hope it''s not like this one," said Tavish.


    Dunmoore considered his chances of killing everyone in this room.


    The problem was that these men were only the faces of their organization. Decapitating them would throw those organizations into chaos. However, it would be impossible to manage them. That would mean all out war, at a time when the nobility did not know the sides and were unprepared. If these men stayed alive, then things would continue to move against organized crime.


    So Dunmoore would have to give the appearance of hunting Gabriel in some form.


    "What about Atravain?" asked Tavish suddenly. "She likes him and she might wreck everything. She''s gone to a lot of our meetings."


    "Prince Bor was at the meeting, so she can''t expose us directly," said Arkan. "Not without implicating the royal family, at any rate."


    Lamech paused. "We have those slaving contracts.


    "The ones'' that run through Blackfear. Cirithil has a source of them that has hitherto been untapped. If Atravain were to lose her slaves, Cirithil could supply what she needed.


    "Make her need slaves, and Cirithil will be the only supplier. He can fleece her."


    "Which will mean Rundas'' and the church will owe us a favor," said Arkan.


    "No killing the slaves," said Arkan. "Imogen''s orders and you don''t want to disobey those. If you do, you''ll have a very bad run of luck.


    "The Goddess of Thieves is not one to be crossed lightly."


    "Fine by me," said Tavish. "I can free some of them from plantations and trade them back to Kata as a peace offering. Maybe get a meeting with Tanith Telus while we''re at it."


    "Going for the titles, huh?" asked Imogen.


    "Now or never," said Tavish. "Run a few messages through Rius, talk to Anborn, and I''ll be set. Edmund Telus has some debts to pay off.


    "I think I can help."


    "I''ll take care of negotiations," said Arkan. "I need to check up on the Ascorn Thieves Guilt anyway. Lilas'' plan should be underway by then, so it should give us everything we need."


    "Then we all have our plans," said Dunmoore.


    Silence.


    "Good luck, everyone," said Arkan.


    Tavish nodded. "You too."


    Dunmoore stayed where he was as everyone walked out of the room. Lilas last of all, looked at him with hate. Spinal vanished into the shadows, and Imogen paused. All of them would be at one another''s throats in only a little while, knowing it. Looking to Gavkin who had stood silent for some time, he considered things.


    "Gavkin," said Dunmoore. "Lamech is a problem.


    "I don''t want to see at another meeting."


    "Yes sir," said Gavkin, standing up and loosening his hammer. "I''ll handle it."


    "Good," said Dunmoore. "Meet me on the crossroads outside Antres and see if you can get some help over to Luke Atravain and his people. Harm must not be brought to them."


    "What of Sir Gabriel?" asked Gavkin.


    "I''ll deal with that matter as I see fit," said Dunmoore. "And personally, if it comes to it.


    "Send in Suran when you leave. He''s not be told about any of this."


    "I swear it shall be done," said Gavkin.


    And he left.


    A little while later, Suran came back. The meeting was taking place in Lady Atravain''s own castle, in one of the far-off and distant rooms. In the old west wing. "Lord Dunmoore, you wanted to speak with me after the meeting."


    "Suran, we must talk," said Dunmoore.


    "What is it?" asked Suran.


    "You''re going to Ascorn to heal the sick and injured," said Dunmoore. "Don''t argue; it''s good work, and it will repair your image."


    "But Lord Dunmoore, I want to fight-" said Suran.


    "I know," said Dunmoore. "But this happens to every Paladin. Sometimes you get stuck with missions you don''t like. You just have to do them anyway and keep going until you get out of the narrows.


    "I shall be plain; you''ve been too focused on advancing. I know you have your reasons, and they are good ones. But you''ve overplayed your part.


    "You cannot win this rivalry with William Gabriel, and it is a waste of your time.


    "It has nothing to do with your quality. He has a power of healing I have not seen in a long time. He is highly talented, well-connected, better trained, and has better lineage and riches. By trying to defeat him, you are moving the battle into his own ground. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You will have to restart from the ground up."


    "All over?" asked Suran. "How did I misstep?"


    "You didn''t precisely," said Dunmoore. "But your conversation with Baron Hawkthorne has stained his reputation. At present, he is your best and only means of advancement.


    "You snubbed all of those nobles. And unlike Sir Gabriel, you lack political and family connections. So their words have power over you. No one except Baron Hawkthorne will risk insulting them by helping you.


    "Letan might be an alternative, but he is not a martial man. And he can''t be connected to you after losing face."


    "What was this meeting about?" asked Suran. "I didn''t like the look of some of those in it. Gavkin looked grim."


    "Nothing. Just the usual shameful realities of politics," Dunmoore sighed. "Evil men, Suran, think that brutality and cruelty give you power. They assume that the ability to twist and destroy is the ultimate measure of strength.


    "But when you twist something else, you are also twisting yourself."


    "Like the Devouring Sword from my world," said Suran. "In the old legends."


    "Precisely," said Dunmoore.


    There was silence for a moment.


    "Are you afraid you''ll fall?" asked Suran.


    "Everyone falls the first time, Suran," said Dunmoore. "Everyone.


    "Now, some people fall earlier than most. Some fall worse than others. William fell before he became a Paladin and picked himself up the first time. I fell... somewhere along the line, and so has everyone else.


    "The measure of a man is not his ability to make no mistakes. Mistakes are inevitable when taking risks."


    "Right," said Suran. "This uh... this isn''t working out as I''d thought it would."


    "It never does," said Dunmoore sadly. "I''ve become a lot of things I never wanted to be. Dismissed."


    "Yes sir," said Suran.


    For his part, Dunmoore wrote out a detailed account of the meeting. Then, copying it several times, he sent three letters. One to Atravain, whose very castle it had happened in. And one to King Gavin, and one to King Andoa. The last and fourth he sent to Raynald De Chevlon and told him to use it for later.


    And Raynald had messengers waiting to take it. And the last, he sent to Princess Ansara, who he knew to be far more intelligent than she let on.


    It would soon be time for a cleansing flame.

 Chapter 149 - Book Two: The Realm of the Dead

    The journey from Castle Atravain was far worse than Luke imagined.


    William had made it look easy, but they had not even left the sight of the walls going south before they ran into trouble.


    There were bugs and the hot sun to contend with. And there was little in the way of good conversation to be had. The villages they passed were miserable places. The people were plagued with sores and injuries, and the wild pigs were a menace. If anything, they had become more dangerous after Janice started hunting them.


    Here they saw some real action, though.


    Luke, Edara, Saul, and the others all organized a great deal of noise to send the pigs running. At the same time, Bags, Alasa, and some of their people herded the pigs toward a line of spearmen. Rutger and Peter were waiting for them, and the points of their spears claimed several of the pigs quickly.


    Luke did not see the killing blow, but he found Rutger and Peter speaking over their bodies. There were three of them, and they were huge. A great fire was made and the pigs were put on spits and turned over it. Soon they all feasted together in the center and broke out a great deal of ale.


    "Did William kill six of these things?" asked Edara, a freckled girl with brown hair tied behind her head. The pork was cooking on spits in the village center.


    "He was guided by Jehair," said Saul. "She knew the easier marks."


    "Sir Gabriel is the sort of person who wouldn''t leave an area without doing many good deeds," said Grace wistfully. "He''s a fine knight and worthy of aspiration." She often spoke of him, and Luke wondered how Jaina was doing.


    They''d spoken a lot together. Luke wasn''t sure how he felt about that.


    "They say he''s coming to heal them," said Saul. "This could lead to a cult of personality."


    "Shouldn''t there be a Paladin out here," said Bags, adjusting his crossbow.


    "They''re stretched thin," said Luke. "They have to rotate villages. And some of them have been worked to exhaustion."


    "The Paladin is here," said a grim voice.


    Sir Gavkin walked down the path toward them. With him was another Paladin that Luke did not recognized. Gavkin wore a sky blue cape and plain armor and held a huge hammer on his back. Arriving, he at once turned to the village chief. "Take me to the sick and injured. I am under orders from Lord Dunmoore and cannot stay long."


    He healed them quickly and without prayer, and the effort obviously tired him. Nor did he seem to enjoy the measure, and he obviously did not want to be there. Coming out, Gavkin seemed more embittered and asked questions. However, Grace put a hand on his shoulder. "You''d best rest and eat.


    "You''re no good to anyone if you die of exhaustion."


    "Yes, I see your point," said Gavkin.


    Gavkin ate with them and told a bit about his mission. He and the other Paladin, Anos, were from Bretus originally. Gavkin had taken part in the wars and slain many undead. That had been in the land of Walesan, which had come under siege by the Dark Queen Sylvar. However, they had departed for fear of losing their grace in the wars.


    "Surely a Paladin is needed in the darkest of places," said Grace.


    "It was a different kind of dark," said Gavkin. "After the victory, Bretus gained control of Walasan. He began building castles and enforcing taxes. The Walesan''s refused to acknowledge the supremacy of our race.


    "There began a brutal revolt. The tactics employed were unbefitting a Paladin. I could not afford to take them up for fear of losing my grace. Thus I have taken service under Lord Dunmoore."


    "I am from Ataka," said Anos, combing his beard. He had olive skin and wielded a flail and chainmail. His voice had a chivalric and tired tone to it, but proud with a strange accent. "Of the noble family of Dreshae, though we are somewhat diminished. My Father was unwise in some of his ventures, which left us poorer than we ought to be.


    "I became a Paladin to make a name for myself. And when Ataka became more dangerous, I came here to seek glory. But, unfortunately, the failure of the priests has seen my time more spent in humiliation."


    "Was there some kind of local trouble?" asked Luke.


    "There''s always local trouble in Ataka," said Rutger grimly.


    "'' Local'' trouble is a touch unsophisticated a word," said Anos in amusement. "But yes. My efforts to root out crime in Ataka became inconvenient for the governor, Aedius. And he sent me forth."


    "Have you made a lot of arrests?" Edara asked.


    "No," said Anos. "The city watch has long been subverted by the lure of coin.


    "My presence was spurring when my sister''s friend was taken captive by a slave ring. They had intended to turn her into a prostitute. Moved by pity, I tracked her down. It took a great deal of effort, but I found where they operated.


    "From I slew the foul rebels and freed the women they held captive including my sister''s friend and servant.


    "Once done, I knew they''d seek revenge, so I deduced the location of their partners and killed all of them too. Then they sent a group of armed men after me in retribution, so I killed them. Finally, I found the location of the place that usually bought from them and killed all of them. I wiped out a major prostitution ring.


    "Unfortunately, many of the less useful nobility had invested in it and it lost them a great deal of money. Thus I went forth and fought in the fall of Zigilus as a legionnaire and did well there. That was where I got my flail after my sword broke."


    "Why were you killing these people?" asked Grace.


    "Zigilus..." Anos shuddered. "It was a city of horrors, and it was corrupting our land much like this one. They practiced infant sacrifice and were obsessed with the lusts of the place to the point of utter depravity.


    "Ill content to stew in their own rot, they spread their decay to other lands. We were the judgment of the gods.


    "But, now I work as a healer." His tone was bitter.


    "What''s wrong with being a healer?" asked Grace.


    "It''s undignified," said Anos simply. "To be retasked to woman''s work. The priests ought to have done all this long ago. And if not that, we must hunt wild pigs.


    "Necessary but hardly glorious.


    "Lord Dunmoore has immense patience to undertake such a task without hesitation."


    "Well, we could use your help," said Peter. "We''re bound for a confrontation with the satyrs who have been gathering."


    "Our own mission," said Gavkin. "Is to kill the Blackguard Lamech. He has caused much harm and escaped justice for too long. Lord Dunmoore has ordered his filth be removed from this world.


    "However, we lost his trail.


    "We shall go with you until a better option presents itself."


    "For now," said Saul. "We should deal with the Healer''s Guild."


    At that moment, a dark-haired boy Luke''s age came forward. He wore a long, black cloak and silver chain. "The Healer''s Guild in this town has been driven out and their funds confiscated.


    "On behalf of Lady Janice, I carried out investigations. As a result, I determined they had violated their charter at several points. I have done this several times now, and they were not even trying to hide it."


    "And you are?" asked Luke.


    "I am Joseph Korlac," said Korlac. "I''ve come off my right road in response to the crisis. I was bound for the Tournament of Kings."


    "Well, you can get back on it with us," said Luke. "We''ve got some new weapons Bags provided us, and we''re hunting satyrs."


    "Actually, we''ve been mostly hunting pigs," said Bags.


    "The pigs are a pressing concern," said Rutger. "They eat everything. Including us."


    "I''ll go with you to the other villages," said Korlac.


    Organizing the seizure of Healer''s Guild property was unpleasant. Luke had to force a lot of people out of their jobs. What made it worse is that virtually no one cared. However, Korlac proved to be very good at finding legal reasons to dismantle a business. He did it to several businesses and slapped numerous people with fines for violations.


    His manner was professional and calm, and he learned to use the weapons quite effectively.


    They spent a few days going from village to village as quick as possible and doing more of the same. Gavkin and Anos proved to be good companions. During this time, he examined defenses, spoke with people, and learned just how bad things had been.


    William obviously must have been in the worst of moods when he came. How had he kept such an even temper?


    "So, Luke, what happened to Sir Gabriel? Shouldn''t he be with us?" asked Peter eventually over the campfire. "We ought to have invited him. We could use his help out here."


    "Peter, I know what you mean, but no," said Luke, shaving in a mirror he brought. "William has business of his own and I''m afraid he''ll have people after him. Rundas is probably going to blame him for this.


    "Besides, if Antion is the source of all light in Harlenor as they say, I''d say we''re in the wrong nation."


    "That''s not fair," said Edara, polishing her axe. She looked more at home out here in the camps than she had in the castle. "We''ve just had things get away from us."


    "You were warned," said Korlac, cleaning his crossbow. He had only just joined up with them, and Luke wondered if his dark hair wasn''t too long. Still, he''d taken no time at all to familiarize himself with how to wield it. "And you did not listen."


    "I wish you''d stop pretending to be this archon of judgement," said Edara. "We both know you''ve never been involved in a hanging. I have. You''re just pretending to be an avatar of your position."


    "I am not!" said Korlac too quickly.


    "To be fair," said Alasa, an elven maiden who had joined up with them late. She''d thus far remained silent. "Everyone was warned."


    "Yes, but House Korlac heeded the warning," said Korlac, looking toward the woods. "We quarantined everything long before the situation in Ascorn. And we stopped these criminal scum cold in our own lands long ago.


    "Lord Arthur was wise enough to ask our assistance. So my Father has dispatched personal healers to tend to the border villages. And none of these black market back doors exist."


    "Rutger, what are our chances, do you think?" asked Peter, looking to his older brother, who had stubble and had cut himself shaving.


    "Some of us might die, Peter," said Rutger. "Satyrs are not to be underestimated."


    "All of us might die, and I think some of us will die," said Bags grimly. The dwarf was from villages on the border with Seathorius. They often did smithwork for Atravain and her soldiers and had done very well out of it. But they had suffered satyr raids before, and he knew what he was talking about.


    Dwarfs did not have nobles so much as a patriarchal structure. "It''s why I insisted we arm our servants; we need all the help we can get." He was polishing his crossbow as well with a love and care Korlac did not.


    "Why not get the militia?" asked Peter.


    "We can''t rely on the militia, Peter," said Edara. "They haven''t been drilled at all, thanks to the disarmament. They might break as soon as things get tough.


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    "I don''t think we have much credibility; William seemed to think we were doing nothing. Janice is already handling other things, and Jaina is looking around."


    "What exactly is the plan?" asked Peter, who never seemed to stop asking questions.


    Luke pointed to the ridge near them. It was a rocky one, and very stood, and the land became barren closer to the Black Mountain. Some of their company turned back or to one side. They had other businesses in different places, and many had had enough.


    Behind them, you had a far green country of scenic villages and well-ordered streets. "There''s a ridge down there, right here. It has a clear view of the approaches to the village in every direction.


    "We''ll lie in wait on it and light our campfires where the enemy can see. The satyrs are always looking for opportunities. So eventually, someone will attack us."


    "And if they don''t?" asked Rutger.


    "Then we just sit here and make sure no invaders cross this ridge," said Luke. "At the very least, we''ll ensure that they''ll have to take a long walk to get out here."


    "How long can we wait?" asked Peter.


    "I''ve rationed everything," said Bags, stroking his beard. "So a week or two, more if we take trips back for supplies."


    "Can we actually resist a determined attack?" asked Rutger up here.


    "Yes," said Luke.


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Edara.


    "Well, yes," said Luke. "But as nobles, we''re wearing armor and weapons. We have crossbows, and we''re armed. And this isn''t an especially important place.


    "Just being here will likely deter an attack. And if there is an attack, we''ll be able to withstand it."


    "It''s a good plan," said Bags. "Assuming there aren''t too many. If enough of them come against us it won''t do much good."


    "We''ll drive them before us," said Peter.


    "Yeah," said Edara. "I''ll bet each one of us will slay ten of them."


    Alasa considered things, adjusting her dark hair-buns. "You really thought this through."


    "Jaina helped me work it all out," said Luke. "Trust me, it won''t work out as we expect with Father as an opponent. He''s been about lately, and that means trouble." Luke had always been able to sense his Father''s work, just beyond sight.


    Right now, he was doing something, and that meant trouble. "Jaina is out there now, trying to negotiate."


    "What?" said Gavkin suddenly. "Why has she no escort?"


    "Father gives us a kind of luck," said Luke. "So long as he finds it amusing, she should be able to drag some of them down here. They get here, and we''ll be on the ridge. When they start climbing and are near enough, we come up over the ridge and fire into them. We''ve got two shots with our crossbows; we use both.


    "Jaina is smart too. She knows enough to avoid real trouble.


    "If that doesn''t scatter them, it''s the sword."


    "What if it does?" asked Edara.


    "Then we stay here and wait for them to get friends and do it over again," said Luke.


    "I''m going to take a look at the trees out there to the west," said Grace. "There''s something in the forest. A wound I want to heal."


    "You cannot go without escort," said Anos.


    "I am quite safe in nature," said Grace. "Don''t worry about me. I can talk to animals."


    And she hurried off without a word.


    "Why didn''t we get Suran for this?" asked Peter.


    "Suran is an excellent fighter," said Anos. "I''d like to have him with us."


    "I tried to get him," said Luke. "But he had to hurry off on a mission on a split run. Apparently, Dunmoore had something significant for him in Ascorn."


    "Edara, you said something good uh..." said Rutger.


    "It''s symbolic," said Edara. "If we win a victory here, it''ll boost morale and give us a chance to get more responsibilities. We don''t have anything to do back home."


    "We should have a militia," said Saul. "Dismissing the militia system gave us economic power. However, it has allowed us to undercut the lower classes. Without proper motivation, we cannot rely on them.


    "The Paladins can only get us so far."


    "Personally, I just want to test out my crossbow design," said Bags, finishing his work. "I sold one to Rius, but he never uses the thing. It lies in some vault because it''s not that shiny. This is the first chance I''ve gotten."


    "I recommend that the servants from the front ranks of the battle line, Luke," said Korlac.


    "Korlac?" asked Luke. "That''s hard on them, isn''t it?"


    "Lower class individuals traditionally take more risks on the battlefield," said Korlac. "A noble who is killed cannot be replaced as easily. In legal terms, the nobility are more important.


    "And, none of us except me have any real experience at combat. I shouldn''t even be here, but someone has to fill in."


    "Well, we''re awfully grateful," said Edara. "Saul, what about you?"


    Saul adjusted his crossbow quickly. Dark hair and effeminate features made him look younger than he was before. He handled it perfectly. "The action is a serious risk.


    "However, if it is not taken, we will do nothing. Our options for attaining respectability are limited by economics. Even if we do not become professional soldiers, a victory here will give us credibility.


    "We should publish at least a small record of all this. House Gabriel has gained major political power through expert propaganda. They utilize the Dust Elven printing presses to show tales of their adventures. Until now, it was assumed they were largely exaggerated.


    "It may be wise to send documents of our own to show the nobility are not idle."


    "Saul is right; if you don''t take a few risks, your House will fall," said Rutger. "Just look at Rius; he''s in absolute disgrace. The entire Paladin Order has had to go out and divert itself to cleaning up what he let happen. And why?


    "Because he didn''t do anything, just took his bribes and became irrelevant. He''d have some credibility now if he''d gone to Khasmir or sent some soldiers."


    "I wanted to go out there," said Luke. "But Mother insisted it was a death trap."


    "She was right," said Peter. "Rutger and I both went.


    "It was a nightmare. The satyrs were not good company, the raishans were worse, and no matter how many we killed, more came. I remember Princess Estela, though; she was magnificent on the field of battle. She must have cut down dozens of them, and Sir Frederick was glorious out there too."


    "Did you see William in action?" asked Luke.


    "We were on the opposite part of the conflict," said Rutger. "It was a big war with a lot of heroes. His usual job was going into dark, hard-to-find caves. Ones'' where anything could be lurking and dispelling demons. His companions were Tanith and Rusara and Prince Kusher.


    "Nobody wanted that job because most people who went in were carved to pieces. But William just did it as a job. Never drink with the soldiers or anything; just went from one place to another. He moves with marvelous speed, as do his men. And his harp can create music to disrupt a great many dark powers.


    "Tanith and Kusher enjoyed themselves. And at the end of it, he traded in the Goldenwood Harp to get the Dreaming Goddess out of a political marriage."


    "That''s sweet," said Edara.


    "This is interesting but not relevant," said Saul.


    "Saul is right," said Bags. "Most of the diseases we''re dealing with are foreign, and they didn''t come in from Ascorn. The Healer''s Guild was given a lot of money to work in Ascorn, and they didn''t.


    "So supply broke down, and now there are fields rotting. Rius ought to be replaced."


    "You don''t just replace a noble," said Rutger.


    "People are going to starve soon," said Luke. "I know Borinius got off, but that was just one area. We can''t look the other way here. And Rius has been corrupt to the gills from the start."


    "He''s the one who let this whole thing happen," said Rutger. "And he''s been caught with all kinds of illegal activity he knew about. And on top of all of it, he can''t even keep order in the streets.


    "Reg Hawkthorne was in prison, and now no one knows where he is. And no one has been able to get what happened from him."


    "What''s your point?" asked Saul.


    Korlac nodded. "If there was ever a time to get rid of a noble, Saul, it is now."


    "Removing noble houses is a dangerous precedent," said Saul.


    "Yes, but letting people do whatever they want also sets a dangerous precedent," said Edara. "Refusing to accept a dangerous precedent can be as dangerous as making one."


    "What would you do? If you had your way?" asked Bags.


    "I''d enforce the law," said Korlac.


    "... That''s a little coldblooded," said Saul, looking disturbing.


    Luke didn''t get it.


    "House Korlac doesn''t have this problem," said Korlac. "We don''t have it because when people commit crimes, we hang them. Merchants, peasants, even nobles sometimes. If you behave badly, you suffer the consequences. And if we can''t hang someone, we do something else to make them suffer.


    "There has to be punishment for misdeeds, or they will be repeated. The pain must be inflicted for instruction to be remembered."


    "Doing that would see you have bodies hanging by every wayside," noted Alasa. "Do you have personal experience with this?"


    "Would you call this preferable?" asked Korlac, looking out to where plagued bodies were being burned in the nearby village.


    "I''d much rather have neither," admitted Luke.


    "Splendid for you both," said Bags. "Focus on the battle."


    They stayed there for several days and took turns going out to different places to check on their progress. The sun was unbearable and the nights were miserable camping beneath the stars. Luke tried to remember his training under Jehair. Feel the life around you, the world around you, and know it is one and yet separate. Do not resist the stream; flow with it and direct your course.


    Word came in from various areas with Korlac, and they made notes. As they did, Luke began to realize that everyone knew Jehair. She had been all over, and not all these villages could have been visited by William. How had she not seen this coming and warned him?


    There were other stories, prisons raided, slave camps freed and channeled toward Ascorn. Tavish''s men had broken open several slave houses and taken them off to camps.


    "Jehair is a traitor," said Korlac suddenly.


    "What?" said Luke. "What do you mean?"


    "She saw all of this, yet no warning was given," said Korlac. "And she works in many of the villages we might fight. If she knew of this, she should have told us."


    "There might be an explanation," said Luke. "We don''t know that she works with these people. Rius knows her well, and he..."


    "Rius is corrupt," said Korlac. "He let the criminals walk right in. And he couldn''t even keep control of Reg. Unless he had completely abandoned all pretense of legality, how is that possible?


    "It''s as though he was meeting people at the docks to take their bribes."


    "I admit," said Edara. "Father has sometimes had to go through Ascorn on business. Rius is always polite but never takes a stand. And I''ve never observed his men making an arrest."


    "Neither have I," said Rutger grimly. "And I go there often.


    "The tolls at the gates are ridiculous, we can''t do any business legitimately."


    Korlac wrote down all this as everyone talked.


    "Is there anyone who''s not a traitor for you, Korlac?" asked Luke. "I mean, we had all the information too. We didn''t do anything because we didn''t understand the need.


    "Are you going to wipe out everyone in Antion?"


    "I would hang as many people as were possible without disrupting the nation," said Korlac. "Nobles are central to our system and in short supply. So for pragmatic purposes, I would spare the least excessive among them.


    "Nevertheless, there must be a great many hangings to make up for this."


    "That kind of escalation could lead to civil war," noted Saul.


    "That''s your Father talking," said Bags. "As usual." sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "My Father is a great man," said Korlac, standing up. "He kept order in the domain of Brisgald and his own. Between us, his methods are superior."


    "On a small scale," said Bags. Then he raised this crossbow. "You see this weapon, Korlac. Beautiful isn''t it? Works well. Piercing armor is like nothing else.


    "But if you made it a few sizes smaller or larger, it wouldn''t work. All the dimensions would be wrong and you''d have to adjust. Now your Father''s system of law and order works well. In a territory he knows well, or when coordinating with a local Lord like Arthur.


    "Arthur is competent and knew his own people.


    "But try the same system in a larger place with a different people, and you''d get revolution. The people here aren''t going to put up with that kind of law and order, they''ve had enough of us as it is. They''ll go straight to the criminals and take their side."


    "You would need time," said Saul. "Time for them to hate the people they have to deal with. If we improve our own image, then the criminals will look worse. The best way to do that is to be seen in action.


    "Such as here. It was a good choice, Luke."


    "I''ll level with you," said Luke. "I camped near the village so we''d have someone to run to for help."


    Laughter from everyone. Even Saul.


    "Could we arrest him?" asked Luke.


    Silence.


    "I''m saying it," said Luke. "Arrest Rius for mismanagement or something to that effect. Put someone else in charge."


    "Lilas has always been beneficial when we have a problem," said Edara. "He often helps us get what we need when the systems break down. The supply breakdowns have always been wrong, and he knows Ascorn''s systems.


    "We could-"


    "One does not arrest nobility," said Korlac, continuing to write his report. "They are either killed or spared in the aftermath of battle. And Lilas is completely unsuitable as a ruler."


    "Why?" asked Edara.


    "He rules the land south of Lord Arthur''s domain himself," said Korlac. "The Hand of Anoa, named for his last battle with King Faras.


    "However, he abandoned it to seek work as a financier. It shows a complete lack of personal responsibility and disrespect for our system. If he can''t take care of his own people, why should he be given greater responsibilities?"


    "It is a poor and desolate place," said Bags. "No trade can go through there because the Wood Elves do not allow it. So everything goes by the King''s Road and such. And it can''t be denied that Lilas has done very well for himself and others in his career."


    "Sir," said Korlac. "I do not care if Lilas made money for the entire universe. He abandoned his birthright for money. He traded his honor for a business empire.


    "If his ancestral domain means nothing to him, why would a new one fit him? If he were given Ascorn, he would immediately begin looking for a way to trade that for something better."


    Luke sighed.


    Everything had gone wrong since that day. John Korlac had gone to a room with Baron Hawkthorne, Lord Rius, Arkan Lantan and many others and called for a return to law and order. To phase out the Thieves Guild and restore things to how they had been before.


    He had been laughed out of the room.


    ''If we''re going to have crime,'' Arkan had said. ''It may as well be organized crime.''


    Mother had described the drunken fools, laughing at the one who told them to reclaim their birthright. Dismissing him as outdated, a has-been of no importance, whose ancestral dignity meant nothing. And those who agreed with him dared not speak up.


    It had led to a new era of corruption and bribery.


    It had led to Father''s campaigns.


    House Korlac had never forgotten. And Luke had a feeling that they were planning revenge even now. John Korlac had never forgotten anything, and once angered he did not forget.


    "Once Rius is dealt with, we intended to look into Lilas," said Korlac. "He owns a great deal more than he pretends. All those favors given have allowed him to do very well in business. That village over there has a number of shops. All of them transport goods using merchants that owe him favors and fealty.


    "I will say nothing of their names in the record to avoid trouble being brought on them."


    Luke turned his mind to the mission, and Korlac wrote many more reports. The camping trip became dull, and Luke became convinced no one would attack.


    Finally, the day of battle came.

 Chapter 150 - One: The Day of Battle

    A light rain had hit their tents, and the fire had burned a bit low beneath the shelter. More men from the local militia arrived, eager to help fight the satyrs. One or two skirmishes were fought with them in other places.


    Yet nothing happened here. War seemed to be a mix of incredible boredom and terror. Luke wished they could get to the terror.


    Word had come to them of hunts and sightings here or there. Tales of undead lurking in the fields had been heard now and then.


    The crossbow rewound in Luke''s hands as he overlooked the borders of the plantation. Scouts had been sent in, and madness seemed to have overtaken the satyrs, one more than usual. Having a battle was something he wanted to see, but watching this crossbow get pulled back was just as good.


    How the gears on the two bolts pulled back, the chord stretching. How the arrow gleamed magnificently at the point. Would that he had a target before him.


    "Are you sure these crossbows will be any use?" asked Joseph Korlac, shedding his green cloak.


    "They''re a dwarven invention, Joseph," said Luke. "I want to try them out.


    "I assembled these myself from one Bags gave me as a gift."


    "Oh, come on, Luke," said Peter. "There is no substitute for skill. These crossbows won''t be of any use at all against supernatural creatures.


    "And a well-trained warrior can usually outfight an amateur, even if they are disadvantaged."


    "Speaking of which," said Rutger. "Are we sure about this?"


    "We have to fight the satyrs," said Luke. "If we don''t, we won''t be credible as nobles. Whoever attacks us out here will raid someone else if we don''t defeat them."


    "Well do you think we can beat them, even if they show up?" asked Korlac, who had disliked the idea. "I''d much rather be hunting pirates."


    "I hope so," said Luke. "There isn''t anyone else who can do it. Lord Dunmoore has his hands full with the plague, and Sir Gabriel has gone. If we stop them now, we could drive back a full-scale incursion.


    "We''ve got to do this, or we won''t be able to look our people in the eye."


    The others that had come with them readied the crossbows. Unfortunately, they were not as in shape as them, so Luke chose crossbows.


    "We ought to fight them with swords," said Peter.


    "No good," said Luke. "We''d be slaughtered; we''re not experienced enough. Well, I''m not, and Edara and the others aren''t. Father tells me that they will be coming out here over the ridge. We''ll have our fight."


    "You''ve... talked to him," said Korlac, nervous.


    "Yes," said Luke. "I don''t think he expected to hit the same kind of resistance. Now some of you are no good at swordplay, so hang back and let me hold them when it comes to melee. I spent my time in prison somewhat better.


    "Let''s lie low and wait."


    "Jaina is coming!" said Rutger. "Look!"


    "We must go to her aid," said Peter, grasping his sword.


    "Man, your post," said Korlac. "She''s well ahead of them; she''ll make it."


    And they lined the ridge with crossbows.


    And wait, they did, and the spears thrown at Jaina went wide.


    Luke took time to sketch out pictures of the Black Mountain and the forest''s trees. Several others were not happy with the dust and the open sky. But Luke didn''t begrudge them that; many others had already broken off to tend to their own lands.


    Eventually, Jaina came into view. Her blonde hair was immaculate for one who had been through a wood, and she scaled up the slopes. The satyrs were behind and terrible, not like the satyrs that Luke had met with now and then, but really satyrs. Their eyes were wild, with scars and war paint on them, their bodies ritually deformed.


    Luke shot one with his crossbow. A rush of joy came to him as his enemy toppled dead. "I got one! I got one!"


    "Nice work," said Jaina, rushing past him and turning to summon a water sphere. "Celebrate after they''re dead." Then she cast it down to smash back a crowd of them.


    Several other cries of joy came from the other nobles as they fired. Many had come with them or joined them with bows and crossbows as time passed. Some were treating it as a hunting party.


    "Beginners luck," said Bags, firing his crossbow twice and killing two, then reloading.


    The others also fired down at the incoming horde, and one by one, they fell. Others stumbled over the bodies. Yet the satyrs advanced higher like a tide. They howled and screeched.


    "Good work," said Korlac, firing a shot into one satyr, then another. "Draw your swords; they''ll be on us."


    "We''ll charge and meet them down the hill," said Luke, smiling as he drew the blade.


    And the others did too with mad joy. The men of Antion rushed down with cudgels and axes and whatever they could find.


    "For my Father!" cried Luke. "For the God of Madness!"


    And as one, the company charged downhill toward their enemy. The satyrs were tired from the run, and many died or were injured. Luke clashed with one, falling on them, driving it back, and cutting it down. Peter ran one through, then sliced down two more in short order while Edara dueled with another axe to sword. Korlac turned a strike and cut off the hand, then the throat. Anos and Gavkin struck down many with blows from hammer and flail, and the satyrs gave way before them.


    But a satyr cleaved down a man as he charged too recklessly. Another fell to a spear thrust before his comrade avenged him. But, even so, the tide was falling back.


    And then came a stench of death, and out of the trees came many more satyrs. And with them were many that were already dead. Their rotting carcasses were animated and halted in their decay. They rushed forward in silent rage. Men flinched back, but Peter and Rutger charged forward and Anos and Gavkin with them.


    Soon all the others did, and the battle was joined.


    Luke was dueling with a satyr back and forth. His first time in battle, and it was great. The feel of blood rushing, the screams of rage, his sword darting back and forth in the light. An undead came at him from behind, but Bags cleaved it down with an axe. Rutger cut down two as a peasant was overtaken and had his throat torn out. Then, rising again as undead, they met their fellows.


    The sword Luke parried his foe and ran him through with a smile. An undead leaped at him, frothing with puss from one eye. Warding it off with a shield, he slashed it down. But the satyr he had just killed rose again, and he also had to cut it down. Similar scenes played out around him, and more undead were coming. Gavkin hewed many with his hammer as Anos'' mace smashed down three, and light emanated from his shield.


    It was everything he''d ever dreamed of.


    Driving his sword through a satyr, he clashed swords with one another as it raised a sword to kill comrades. Several of his comrades screamed, shot wildly, and ran. Others held their ground and continued to fight in a knot. Korlac was fending off an onslaught, deflecting blades with deft moves of his sword. Yet he couldn''t hold forever, and Luke went to his aid. Edara went with him, cleaving the skull of an undead.


    For a time, they fought together, and Luke cut down another, smiling as he did it. Korlac disarmed a satyr and sent him running. Another he slashed the throat off as it came at him. But Luke saw one of the peasants with him stabbed by an undead and rising again. As the satyrs fought on, more began to fall. He tried to shield a peasant with his armor, but the man was too aggressive. Another cut down a satyr while Peter hewed down one after another.


    Peter fought with a magnificence Luke had not seen. He struck down one after another, even as more came. Then, driving them down, he nearly pushed them back, and they followed. Yet soon, he came against stronger satyrs, and their blades went him back. Soon there were dozens of bodies at his feet, forming a bulwark by which they rallied.


    "Peter, get back!" said Luke.


    Peter hewed down one and nodded.


    Scaling up the hill, they rushed to cover him. But a satyr hurled a spear that caught him in the back, and he fell to the ground. Luke cried out in denial and anger, drew his crossbow, and fired it to catch the satyr in the heart. The rest hurled spears, which went wild and fled.


    "I got him!" snarled the satyr as he fell dead. "I got him!"


    Of course.


    Peter had killed many of their kind, more than any of the others. To these satyrs, Peter had been the villain. Would he live?


    Another one of Father''s lessons and a bitter one.


    Should Luke have stayed on the hill? Unfortunately, it was too late to know.


    Then a chimera came leaping, bounding out of the trees, and fell on the satyrs from behind. It breathed fire into them and tore them apart. The satyrs turned to fight it, while others battled the nobles. One of the nobles who came with them was cut down before Luke, and another had his heart pierced.


    "Is he alive?" said Luke. "Peter!"


    A satyr was over Peter with a knife. Luke struck him dead with his blade and kneeled by him. Edara was over to one side, rushing toward him.


    "Keep up..." Peter halted. "Keep up the quest... S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Save Antion."


    Alasa reached him and began tendings his wounds by magic, but Peter did not speak again. Looking around for his shield, Luke saw no sign of it.


    The chimera was gone as suddenly as it had come.


    But Peter was still, and Edara was at his side, trying to heal him with her power. Many of the nobility were fallen as well or had their wounds tended. Many peasants and servants had died as well. Even if Peter lived, how many others had fallen here? He saw someone much like himself mourning a fallen friend who would be just as important as Peter.


    "... That''s sixteen of us dead," said Alasa, who had stayed behind to heal.


    Korlac looked at the boy.


    "Taran," said the boy, who had a nondescript appearance and a wound on his scalp. His tunic was slashed, and his face was bloody. "He was trying to protect me when I fell."


    Had Peter traded his life? Or could have survived? Or was he alive? Did it even matter? There were any number of others who had died. Even if the Peter Luke knew was dead, there was another who was alive. And vice versa.


    It would be as if he was in one room and Luke was in the next. And in sixty or so years, all of them would go into that room. And they''d return to another life and tell stories about it later. And wonder if the stories were just a game they''d made up.


    "Everything returns in a changed form," said Saul.


    "What does that mean?" asked Edara.


    "It is a philosophy," said Saul.


    Luke looked at their bodies sadly and knew these pieces of flesh were not his fallen friends. This part was not glorious; many had been slashed and hurt. "...Well, some of us had to die. That''s how war works."


    "I''m alive," said Alera. "I''d judged I''d do better to heal the wounded. Let me see any injuries."


    So many dead.


    Most of the crossbow bolts had been spent, and now they had to gather the unbroken ones. To say nothing of dragging all the bodies up the hill for burial. It was a long labor, and the dead of the satyrs were burned in a heap with the undead.


    Luke considered things. "Well, it makes sense. We have armor, and they didn''t. Just because they had the same training didn''t mean they''d do as well."


    Rutger looked down. He had cut down many of them. "My brother is..." He faltered. "Peter is dead. He''d lost too much blood."


    Luke fell silent, shifting. So Alasa couldn''t save him. "I... I see.


    "I''m sorry."


    "He... he knew the risks," said Rutger, trying to stay composed. "This was a larger group than we expected. Mother and my sister Isabella will be heartbroken at this."


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    "Go sit down and get a drink," said Luke. "Bags, get him some win.


    "We''ll take care of this."


    Rutger nodded and moved away to drink.


    Luke shifted. "We ought to raise a monument here. To Peter and all the other men who died here to stop them. They deserve it."


    "It might inspire people and remind them the nobility are necessary," said Saul.


    "Saul," said Luke. "Peter is dead?"


    Saul had no outward reaction but seemed unsteady. "I understand, and I am sorry. However, many others are dead. As nobles, we must consider how to make this victory most effective.


    "We owe it to the dead. Peter would not want his sacrifice to be in vain and-"


    "Just stop," said Luke.


    Saul obviously didn''t care, but he seemed like he ought to care and was trying to simulate it. Luke supposed that was the best he could expect; House Marn was coldblooded when it came to it. Mother had found that out once or twice.


    The dead of Antion had high cairns of stone built over them, and the villagers nearby came to pay respects. And the mound of satyrs killed burned to high heaven. Luke just waited, not sure what to do.


    "At least we stopped these things," said Edara. "Luke was right. They''d have sacked a hamlet if we hadn''t wiped them out here."


    "Jaina, why were they attacking you?" asked Korlac.


    "Failed negotiations," said Jaina. "They took me for easy sport, so I ran."


    "What were these undead?" asked Korlac. "How did they rise like this?"


    "I checked the bodies," said Jaina. "These satyrs have sacrificed themselves to the Withering. When they die, they will immediately rise as undead.


    "Some sort of blood rite."


    "These are not a kind of satyr, I know," said Bags. "They''re shorter and stockier than most and tended to hunch their backs. They must have come down from the Black Mountain, so perhaps some clan grew in caves."


    Gavkin had not attended the ceremony, for he and Anos were checking for tracks and standing guard. Eventually, they came back up. "There are tracks here, armored tracks that passed by lately. I believe that Lamech may have passed this way."


    "Indeed," said Anos. "I sense lingering darkness here. Our enemy passed this way.


    "It may be that this was done by his will."


    "There is no proof of that," said Korlac. "He may simply have used the satyrs as cover. Crept into their shadow. It is often done."


    "We shall learn after we find the blackheart," said Anos.


    "Is it wise to go into the woods?" asked Jaina. "You don''t know them."


    "Wisdom is not the way of the Paladin," said Gavkin. "It is courage. And I have learned to navigate by faith."


    Drinking water and eating quickly, the two headed off.


    Luke stood on the hill, wondering at the near-miss Peter had. And he looked at the other people and realized that many of them had lost friends. People they had grown up with were slain in battle. All of them would be different after this.


    "We''re going to have to retrain," said Luke. "We can''t let it end here. If we''d been aiming our crossbows properly and do this properly, all those people still be alive. All of you have brothers and sisters; that was one of the conditions of coming.


    "But it''s no good hunting bandits if we all get killed."


    "We shouldn''t have charged," said Bags regretfully.


    "No," said Edara. "That was the right call. Charging down the hill in numbers and armor after a volley of bolts should have driven them in.


    "We lost because they were better than us. We''d have been wrecked if Peter and Rutger hadn''t been here."


    "We didn''t lose," said Luke. "Jaina is safe, and they didn''t get any further. We achieved our goal. The people of that village saw what we did."


    "Well, you''re not going to like this," said Jaina. "I didn''t want to say it before, with all that was happening. But there are bandits in the woods. They have prisoners taken as slaves. I think they have some kind of market. Taken in raids, apparently, someone is preparing for a large sale."


    Luke halted. "Well, we''ve got to go help them."


    "We''re not going anywhere, Luke," said Korlac. "We barely survived this. "


    "They must be planning to sell them as slaves," said Luke. "But to who?"


    "It must be one of the criminal syndicates," said Korlac. "But we can''t keep fighting here. A direct is out of the question. We''re not good enough."


    Luke nodded. "Alright, Korlac, you get them to bury our dead. Then, Jaina and I will head down and see if we can seize the captives. If we can find out who exactly put them up to this and why we can arrest them."


    "Don''t attack them directly," said Korlac. "You can''t take that many. Instead, go by stealth, or not at all."


    "Stealth?" asked Rutger. "We''re to go by stealth."


    "''We''re not going anywhere," said Korlac.


    Luke saw a crossbow on the ground broken and kneeled by it. It had been shattered. "What happened to this?"


    "A satyr tried to cut me down," said Edara. "So I threw it at him. I panicked."


    "Do you know how hard these things are to make?" said Luke. "Bags, and I had to assemble all of them from scratch. Well, you can make your own after this.


    "I''m not building you another.


    "Let''s go, Jaina. We''ll free as many captives as possible and bring them back here. You''ll stay here and be ready to support us. We''ll need your help, Korlac, in interpreting legal stuff."


    "Legal stuff?" asked Korlac, faintly offended.


    "Yeah," said Luke. "Who might have done this? Who could have supported it? What rules is this all in violation of."


    "Legal stuff?" asked Korlac, mortally offended.


    "It beats the alternative," said Luke. He thought it would be insensitive to say he was having the time of his life.


    There are at least four scores of them...


    Luke went off as quickly as possible, heading down the rocky slope toward the trees. The echoes of madness led him up the slopes toward a distant firelight. Before he got to it, the stars came out, and he found an enclosure of rough and ready men drinking together. In cages, many people of Harlenorian descent and some furbearers were on the far side.


    Looking at Jaina, they nodded.


    "I''ll keep them occupied," said Luke with his crossbow. "You get the people out."


    "So why did we seize all these?" asked one.


    "Eh, these are trouble-makers," said one. "People that won''t be missed. We take them off the streets and get paid a decent sum by a Lord, then sell them for another sum. I hear they''re already setting up new slave networks.


    "Apparently, some distinguished citizens don''t like these ones making businesses independent of nobility. So we''re doing good work by taking them."


    The bandit...


    He was like Luke. He''d have done anything to get out and have some adventure and chosen to become a bandit. Would Luke have done honest work had he never been given the call to adventure? Or would he have abandoned it all to seek glory in this way?


    He would like to think he would go to war.


    But would he have? Would he have the noble character to do so?


    It didn''t matter in the end. These men had to die. And so he fired a bolt across the distance. It shot fast and true and caught his other self in the side of the head. The man fell dead to the ground, and Luke fired another bolt. Then, rewinding his crossbow, he moved to a different place as the bandits got undercover.


    Firing two more times, Luke killed two more, watching them fall dead like puppets. Now they were panicking, and some were rushing out into the woods. These he allowed to escape, but one who was trying to unlatch the cage he shot. Then another. Soon all of them had fled.


    He hoped they became good people, though Father laughed at that.


    Getting to the enclosure, he found the cages open and the people released. "Are all of you alright?"


    "Yes, Sir Atravain," they said.


    "Just Luke," said Luke, feeling disgusted with his class.


    But he was sure to get their names and identities of them. There were too many to record in his private notes. Recording a merchant''s presence in politics was an excellent way to endanger them. It turned out that most of them were self-made men who had worked their way up in their own communities. Several other commoners were disconnected.


    Yet none of the merchants here had taken loans from anyone other than local lords.


    "Is that significant?" asked Luke as they went back.


    "Possibly," said Jaina. "In the old days, a Lord would provide the money to get started. However, thanks to the increase in trade, there are what you could call ''Merchant Lords.''


    "Merchants who are sufficiently wealthy that they can loan to others. Often the poorer Lords use them as a go-between. The Merchant Lords get certain rights in exchange. The ability to use trade and notification of options.


    "With the prolonged peace brought by King Andoa, martial prowess became less critical.


    "If these people are being targeted for using the old system, someone is trying to undercut them. Did you receive any offers before it happened?"


    Most of them had received offers from the church. Bishop Rundas had arrived with armed men, eaten their food, and made an inferior offer. Then walked out afterward, and things had gone silent for a while. Luke wished he could record the merchants in question.


    Suffice to say all of these people are loyalists.


    "They were going to sell our people back to us as slaves," said Edara. "And we''d never have even known."


    "Perfect pretext for revolution," said Saul. "Which could be settled by gracious intervention on behalf of the church. I think that Bishop Rundas has been indulged long enough."


    "No, we''re not killing anyone!" said Luke. "We don''t know he did that.


    "For all we know, someone is trying to frame him up. You can''t shoot Bishops on second-hand rumors and suppositions, Saul. If the church of Elranor isn''t sacred, what is?"


    "The High Priest is a powerful figure," said Korlac. "And assassinating anyone is unacceptable. I would not play the role of an assassin if Antion were falling around me.


    "There will be no killing outside of law or battle."


    Luke sighed, and they focused on burying the dead and getting the people back to the villages. Soon, he found the bodies buried. As he looked at the shallow graves, he realized he felt nothing at all. Massacre plodded off to hunt satyrs, and no one knew where she had gone.


    They worked and worked, and eventually.


    Suddenly, darkness fell over the sun, and turning around Luke saw a man walking toward him, a Blackguard. He could tell him at once by the aura of terror upon him. Luke had sensed his presence before in Castle Atravain, but now he saw him walking. A sword was in his hand, and the people shrank away.


    "Lamech..." said Luke.


    "Turn back now, noble, and you may remain unhurt," said Lamech.


    "You can''t tell me what to do here," said Luke. "This is my family''s land, Lamech."


    "And who do you think benefits by all this?" asked Lamech.


    "I don''t care," said Luke, drawing his sword.


    "Luke..." said Edara. "You can''t take this guy. I''ve seen him fight."


    "No man may tell a Lord of Antion his custom," said Luke. "Go back, Lamech, and you may remain unhurt. There is no one around to report your presence."


    "Then there will be no one to hear you scream," said Lamech.


    "Korlac," said Luke. "Stay out of this."


    Sword raised, Luke faced Lamech. The fiend raised his blade, and they faced one another. Then Lamech struck, and his sword lashed down like a bolt of thunder. Luke stepped aside, the blade wrent a crack in the earth, and the company leaped aside. Even as Luke struck at his shoulder, his enemy moved aside and nearly cut him in half. Their swords met, and Luke was thrown down, having the wind knocked from him.


    As Lamech''s blade descended toward him, Luke rolled aside, and the blade sank into the ground. The earth was rent and pitted by the blow, and Luke struck at the foot of Lamech. Yet Lamech stepped back, even as he prepared to strike again, and brought his sword down. Luke knocked it to one side and grabbed his hand to pull himself up and attack.


    Lamech caught the blade in a clawed gauntlet.


    Laughing, he swung his head forward and bashed Luke''s head. His helmet rang as he fell backward to hit the ground. Luke heard Rutger cry angrily and saw Lamech turn to face him. Their blades met, and Edara came with an axe from behind. Alera went with a spear while Jaina cast some incantation, so Lamech had the ground grip his feet in place. Korlac walked behind with a crossbow, pointed it at his back, and began pulling the trigger.


    Lamech shoved Rutger back with a roar of strength, cut Edara''s axe in half, and broke Alera''s spear. Rutger attacked again. Meanwhile, Edara switched to gripping the axe further up and attacked. Alara went at him with a knife, only to be backhanded back. Edara had her axe parried, and Rutger was kicked back.


    Korlac fired two bolts when they were clear, and Lamech cut one down with a single blow. Another he caught in his bare hand and roared in triumph as he broke it.


    Then Luke tossed his helmet and got Lamech in the head. Snatching up the sword of a dead servant, Luke rushed forward and leaped into the air. Descending, Lamech brought his sword up to meet them. There was a clash, and the sunlight gleamed off the blades to blind both as the sun rose.


    Reeling back, both assumed stances, and Luke went on the offensive, attacking aggressively. Lamech needed to prepare for the strike and was forced to draw back gradually. Yet, in time, he rallied, and the moment was lost.


    All of them were breathing hard now.


    "Where is William Gabriel," said Lamech. "I have a business to settle with him."


    "It doesn''t matter even if I we told you," said Korlac. "He''s with Jehair, one of the greatest trackers in the world. So even if we told you the route, they are sure to know your associates are after them.


    "They''ll blend into the wilderness. You''ll never find them until long after this crisis has passed."


    Lamech paused and laughed. "Ah, then where is Lord Dunmoore?"


    "I wouldn''t-"


    "Luke," said Jaina. "You might beat him, but you''ll lose friends. So let me handle this."


    "Fine," said Luke.


    "Lamech," said Jaina. "Dunmoore took the main road and plans to wait there until William goes by."


    "... That''s a bit of a boring and predictable tactic," said Lamech.


    "How do you-" began Luke.


    "I listen to doors," said Jaina.


    "He has a company of knights with him," said Jaina. "I can show you a method by which you can lure William to you. But in exchange, you have to let these live."


    Lamech halted and shifted his sword. "Very well.


    "I appreciate your assistance."


    "You''re an excellent swordsman," said Saul.


    "Thank you, I''ve had to work to make up for an ill-treated youth," said Lamech, sheathing his sword. Though he was younger than most of them. "I would call your performance passable, but that would be generous for commoners.


    "Any Haldrenians militia would make mincemeat of you."


    "Antion does not like violence as a first solution," said Luke.


    "Then you won''t get a chance to use it as a second," said Lamech. He paused. "I don''t usually pursue this matter, but I''m unlikely to get another chance.


    "Have you ever met a noble with six fingers on his left hand?" The question was posed almost as an afterthought. Luke wondered about that.


    "Do you actually care?" asked Luke.


    "I pursue it out of obligation," said Lamech. "I became a Blackguard as a means to gain power. Vengeance on the one who murdered my Father was the excuse for doing it.


    "Have you or not?"


    "Well, I''ve never met anyone like that," said Edara, getting a sword from a servant. "I doubt they''d answer even if they did."


    "I would not tell you even if I knew," said Korlac.


    No one said anything.


    "You''ve been here as a protege to Arkan for years," said Saul. "If you wanted to know, you''d know already. So what is your purpose?"


    "More an excuse than a purpose," said Lamech. "Blackguards who achieve their goals don''t like it when they do or are killed shortly after.


    "It was a good fight." And standing up, he walked off. Jaina nodded to them and hurried off, cloak billowing behind her.


    It was around this time that the Paladins Gavkin and Anos returned. They came marching up the path and found them there where they were speaking. Luke looked up to see them and rose to greet them. He wondered if Lamech had chosen to attack specifically while they were gone.


    "There has been a battle here," said Anos. "Luke Atravain, what has happened?


    "Who has attacked you and your companions here?"


    "A Blackguard called Lamech," said Rutger. "He set on us after the battle was joined."


    "Then we are here on a common purpose," said Gavkin. "We hunt him as well."


    "We''re not going to hunt him," said Luke, almost laughing. "He thrashed us as it is."


    "We''ve got to do something about this, Luke," said Edara.


    "She''s right," said Rutger. "That man is going to come back sooner or later. If not for revenge, then because Lord Kern is in his memory and has power."


    "Lord Kern?" asked Luke.


    "Yes," said Rutger. "He has six fingers on his right hand. I saw him."


    "The old revenge curse," said Bags, who had been healing injuries.


    "That''s nothing but a myth," said Korlac. "Anyone can kill someone''s Father; we''ve been doing it since we went on campaign.


    "And anyone can seek revenge. Most nobles go into battle at some point, and revenge is an ancient art form. So most of them eventually face a revenge plot, and having six fingers is memorable.


    "It''s an ancient tradition with a long and glorious history. One Antion has been trying to get away from." And he explained everything.


    "We must go after him at once," said Anos. "Lord Dunmoore has ordered him slain."


    "We can''t just leave this place, though," said Luke. "Look around you.


    "Look at what is happening here. Lamech didn''t kill any of us, and the villages are in chaos. They need men like you Gavkin, especially with Peter gone."


    "Luke is right," said Rutger. "My brother gave his life to protect the people of Antion.


    "Not so Dunmoore and Lamech can settle a personal score. You are Paladins."


    "We have orders," said Gavkin. "Lamech has committed deplorable crimes. He must be brought to judgment."


    "But is he doing anything now?" asked Bags. "We''ve got pressing things here. Last we heard, he was heading straight to fight Dunmoore, who might kill him anyway.


    "Besides, if I were Lamech, I''d set a trap for you down the road."


    "Dunmoore did not know the full extent of the situation down here," said Saul. "It may well be far worse than he realized. He will understand if you turn aside to help these people."


    "...They are right, Gavkin," said Anos. "Lamech has a head start. And he surely has minions out there. He shall surely lead us into a trap if we follow him now.


    "We delay our quest to deal with these satyrs and hogs."


    Gavkin paused. "...It pains me to submit to such humiliation.


    "But in the end, we must follow the will of Elranor."


    So Gavkin and Anos stayed their hand and continued to heal. And Peter was dead.


    Where had these undead satyrs come from?


    Somehow, Luke doubted he''d ever find out in this adventure. He was beginning to think he was a side character in his own story.

 Chapter 151 - Two: Breaking Point

    The meeting rooms of Lord Rius had seen a lot more traffic lately, though the maid service kept it all clean nonetheless.


    Lord Rius had done nothing but eat and sneer. He ate on plates of silver while Farwa arranged to ration food supplies for the populace.


    The gates opened, and Tanith was sent to meet a shipment. A very large shipment of grain, brought from elsewhere. They came in great lines of ox carts, and many of the commoners cheered as they did. Tanith met their gaze as they filed in and saw Anborn as the front.


    And Lilas behind.


    "Tanith!" said Anborn, running up to her with an enthusiastic smile.


    Tanith resisted the urge to stab him. You didn''t kill family unless they did something really bad. "Anborn, what are you doing here?"


    "Oh, um, I ran into William on the way home," said Anborn. "And he convinced me I should take some personal responsibility for my position. So I uh, went talking to a lot of merchants, and it turned out there was a lot of grain stored up.


    "Stuff which no one was using.


    "So I convinced some people to bring some of the extra food to feed the hungry here. They were holding it."


    "It wasn''t from the granaries, was it?" asked Tanith, instantly concerned.


    "No," said Anborn. "See, a lot of the merchants had been stockpiling it. I guess to sell in case of a famine. But Lilas and Bishops Rundas and Joffrey compensated them. Now they are going to distribute them because I asked them to do it. Lilas is the Archdeacon, you know."


    Lilas was the Archdeacon?


    Which one of his actions had anything to do with religion?


    And there was Lilas and Joffrey with him. He was basking in the cheering because Anborn had run away from his path in the front. No one had notified Tanith, and this was a surprise. So either Lilas had gone behind Rius'' back, or Rius was using Anborn as a tool. He was easy to use. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Someone was up to something, and Tanith was going to ruin it for them. This was too good to be true.


    "They''re really good people when you get to know them," said Anborn. "It''s amazing how quickly Lilas got it all together! I mean, everyone he talked to just-"


    "Lady Atravain has provided food aid to the people of Ascorn!" said Tanith. "Quickly notify Lady Farwa and the Ranger Aras. They shall distribute it in the name of Lord Rius."


    "Um, it is Lilas'' grain," said Anborn.


    "Grown on Lady Atravain''s land and distributed with her permission," said Tanith. "And it''s coming from a grainery in Antion, so I credit the noble of the land in question. Unless you have an objection, Lilas?"


    Lilas stared and opened in mouth in anger before stopping himself. Obviously, he''d planned to let Rius run this place into the ground. Then when he was deposed, he''d fit naturally in. So his hour of triumph had been ruined.


    Ordinarily, Tanith might give him the benefit of the doubt.


    But he treated his workers brutally, Tanith had spoken to some of them. And since he''d had lots of grain available from the start, William''s initial hopes were dashed. The shortage had been artificial, and Lilas had sought to take control using it.


    "None at all, of course," said Lilas, recovering. "So long as starvation is averted, it matters little who gets the credit."


    "Actually, it matters a great deal," said Tanith. "I will escort both of you to the House of Lord Rius once Farwa arrives." Then she turned to her men. "Get these people off the streets.


    "This isn''t a celebration, go. And get Lilas and Joffrey a cloak, so nobody forms a lynch mob."


    "I will enter the city in whatever way I-" began Joffrey.


    Tanith put a hand to her sword. "Go."


    Joffrey turned and fled out of the gates as fast as his legs could carry him. His toadies ran with him. Ham Hawkthorne stood in the crowd and quickly stalked after him, hand on his blade. What was he doing here?


    Well it didn''t matter, Joffrey was gone.


    That left only Lilas.


    Soon enough, Farwa did arrive, and Tanith passed things over to her. Then she took Anborn and Lilas through the streets after clearing the crowds. No profits would be made on the side of this serpent. Arriving at the door, Tanith found Rius speaking with many of his well-dressed friends. He had never looked fatter and more decadent than now that the streets were cleaned.


    Rius was exactly the same as he had been at the beginning of this mess. He''d run Ascorn into the ground and been saved by circumstances out of his control. So his bloated and disgraceful rule would live a little while longer.


    "You know," said Anborn to a nearby commoner. "Luke Atravain and a lot of nobles had a battle with satyrs at a village near here. Several of them died in battle, but they drove them off.


    "And they fought a Blackguard too."


    Murmurs of interest and awe came up, and soon Lilas'' messianic arrival was forgotten.


    "Tanith, why are you doing this," asked Anborn. "Lilas helped us. So did Joffrey, they put a lot of work into this. You can''t humiliate people like this."


    "What''s he going to do?" asked Tanith. "Raise an army from the people he abandoned and abused?"


    Here was where Rius took Lilas'' side.


    "Ah, Lilas, so you''ve brought the food we had stored up as prepared," said Rius, shaking his hand and smiling. Laughter came from the crowds, turning the thief''s triumph into humiliation.


    "You''ve been storing it?" asked Tanith.


    "Outside of the city in case of a situation such as this, of course," said Rius. Many of them chuckled at his expense, hoping to do the very same scheme on him.


    But Rius would never replace Lilas because he could be controlled.


    "How much in tax are you paying to Lady Atravain for this?" asked Anborn with a frown.


    "They are in neutral areas laid aside for merchants. They were purchased with her permission," said Rius. "I provide all the security, of course, and the grain is bought from her and stored."


    "Is there a particular reason you decided to enslave an entire people?" asked Tanith, feeling disgusted.


    "That was entirely the doing of the Kings, Lady Tanith," said Rius with an air of smugness. "They do not ask permission when they make decisions. Prince Bor and Gavin wanted us to provide storage, and I did."


    "Is that really something a Lord should say, Lord Rius?" asked Anborn.


    "Pretend I did not say it," said Rius, an edge in his tone. Anborn wilted, and this seemed to please Rius. "Anborn, Lilas, we shall dine together with our friends and then discuss matters."


    "Anborn, let me go with you," said Tanith.


    "With all due respect, Lady Telus, you were not invited," said Lilas.


    "Heel, boy," said Tanith. "If a meeting is made pertaining to my house, Lord Rius, I should be involved." No true noble would ever behave like this.


    "Anborn is there as a representative," said Rius. "And as Edmund Telus'' eldest son, he is far more qualified in negotiations. I gather you have a less sophisticated approach."


    Did the man seriously think Tanith would be defeated by public humiliation? Because she was in a city, she was out of her element. Well, she supposed Vanion would want her to try proper channels. "Anborn, a word?"


    "Are you detaining my guest?" asked Rius, now openly smug.


    Was this a noble, or merely a sack of meat?


    "Anborn, I need to speak to you now. This is very important," Anborn was the closest thing to a man among them. At least he was trying.


    "We can talk after the dinner," said Anborn.


    Oh, that absolute fool.


    Was Anborn asking permission from Rius? He should have learned better years ago. But Mother had coddled him, and he''d always dismissed Father as too serious.


    "Anborn, you need to consult with someone on this," said Tanith. "You cannot undertake negotiations without an advisor. Father may not know about these."


    "Why not let your older brother make his own decisions, Tanith," said Rius. "You owe him respect, as your elder, do you not? I have been lenient so far, but it could endanger relations if you insist on insulting me."


    It wasn''t Anborn''s fault, really.


    He''d started too late to try and do his job. So he''d never had a chance to learn as a child should. So now he was a child in a man''s body, with a man''s responsibilities. And he''d be judged for them as a man.


    "Anborn..." said Tanith. "Don''t sign or promise anything without consulting Father."


    "Okay, sure," said Anborn. But he wasn''t listening. He never listened to anything he did not want to hear.


    "Rius," said Tanith. "What happened to Reg Hawkthorne?"


    Rius halted at the sudden question. One he could not afford to not answer. "We are still awaiting a response from our messages."


    "Sent to the domain of House Hawkthorne?" asked Tanith.


    "Yes," said Rius. "Naturally."


    "Doesn''t House Hawkthorne have a trade empire, Tanith?" asked Anborn.


    The population laughed. Rius laughed, and the merchants joined in.


    Rius laughed because he thought Tanith was the one who did not know the answer. He could do no wrong, so he assumed the disgrace passed to her. He was never responsible. The nobles laughed because they dared not alienate Rius.


    He gave them food in their troughs like well-dressed pigs. The population laughed at Rius and the nobles in general because they were ridiculous.


    And it was Harlenor itself made the court jester.


    Tanith''s eyes focused then on Anborn, who had a nervous smile but was not laughing. As if he was trying to figure out the joke. Then she turned her gaze to Lilas, who was not laughing either. He was calculating, and she met his gaze in sheer hatred.


    There stood a new kind of noble.


    An aristocracy who stole as much money as possible and did nothing to earn it. An invisible hand robbed as many people as possible and gave nothing back. A race of spoiled man-children who thought handling money the ultimate deed. And all other manful deeds mere yardwork for their glory.


    Lilas, meanwhile, saw in her a mirror. A brutal savage who was the manifestation of everything he had hated. Everything he never had the courage to be. An irredeemable attack dog in possession only of base cunning. This man was no warrior, and he''d known he''d been no warrior. But where other men had tried to adapt to their society, he had tried to outmaneuver it.


    William would have felt sympathy for Lilas after understanding him.


    For her part, Tanith only hated him all the more. She had done what her country wanted. She''d fulfilled her duty and followed orders without question. This thing in front of her was unworthy of her attention.


    She turned away in disgust.


    She had a job to do. Payment was only put off.


    And Reg was either dead or imprisoned by Neral Dinis to be eaten by vampires.


    How did she deal with this? She''d already written up and sent reports to Duke Vanion by Amenos.


    Finding Kata on the docks, she was looking out to sea as the sun set in a bloody red. A wind of cold shot through them. Sokar was speaking with a number of his lieutenants.


    "Tanith?" asked Kata, looking back


    "Don''t make any deals," said Tanith. "And put everybody on guard. If you see Lilas, seize him at once. Throw him in a cell and keep him there.


    "Things are about to get bloody again."


    There was no other outcome.


    Kata nodded. "I understand." And she offered Tanith a stone. "Take this. It''ll prove you''re trusted to enter."


    Tanith nodded. "Thanks. You''re pretty good at this."


    "Don''t remind me," said Kata before hugging her. "Thanks, Tanith."


    Tanith felt her warmth against her and almost choked up for a moment. Then it was over as soon as it began. Turning, she walked toward the beached ship. Scaling up the steps, she opened the door and walked into the darkness. It had been well cleaned up, and there was straw all over the floor.


    "Lady Telus, you''re here," said Sokar, who must have gotten ahead.


    "Yes," said Tanith. "I''m here with Kata''s authorization."


    "Do you have the runestone?" asked Sokar.


    Tanith raised it up. "Yes. What does that rune mean anyway?"


    "''One who may enter,''" said Sokar. "We use them to identify people, and it corresponds to her clan." He paused. "Well, actually it can mean ''One who supplants.'' But that translation is part of an older dialect. Same words, different meaning."


    "Great," said Tanith. "So these are the prisoners."


    The prisoners had lost a bit of weight, or at least the fatter ones had. Those who had been thinner were much the same and looked livid, stalking back and forth. The fatter ones looked sullen, and their clothes were tainted by dirt. Though most had been given better ones. It was no more than they deserved.


    "Next time," said Tanith to them. "Behave as a Harlenorian ought."


    "Yes," said Sokar. "Kata commands that they be fed and kept as comfortable as is reasonable. We clean the cells regularly, though we''ve had several escape attempts. Some have tried to take their own lives, as well.


    "We''ve stopped all of them."


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    "Why so much concern for your hated enemy, Sokar?" asked Tanith, not understanding him. "This cell is a paradise compared to what they did to you."


    "Don''t remind me," said Sokar. "But, she insists that we must not become our enemies. It''s William. Kata really admires him."


    "Don''t tell him that," said Tanith. "He does his best work when he''s bitter and angry.


    "...You''re the one who''s really in charge here, aren''t you?"


    "Basically, yes," said Sokar. "I figured it''d be better for everyone to think Kata was making all the decisions. That way, I''d have a free hand.


    "Very old Furbearer trick. Neral Dinis did it all the time in one way or another."


    "Can I talk to some of them," said Tanith.


    "I''m sorry, Tanith," said Sokar. "But no one meets with any of the prisoners. If they were to arrange an escape through a visitor, we would lose our bargaining power.


    "And I know you''ve been playing both sides. You''re looking after House Gabriel''s interests. Which means you could move against us for Rius."


    "Rius is weak," said Tanith with a sigh. "He''s lost control of his own operations and he''s too stupid to realize it. He even openly scoffs at the King."


    "Don''t I know it," said Sokar. "Kata tells me that virtually everyone is sick of him. Some have been very public about talking about how good Lilas is as an administrator. But I think they''ve been paid to do it.


    "The problem is that there isn''t anyone other than you."


    "You could claim Ascorn as weregild," said Tanith. "Kill Rius off and hand it to a Furbearer lieutenant."


    "I don''t want to run this place," said Sokar.


    "General Sokar?" said a voice.


    General?


    "What is it?" asked Sokar.


    "Tavish Kern is here with many armed men," said a Furbearer, clad in chain mail. "He''s at the gates of the smuggler''s cave."


    "Send word to Kata, only Kata," said Sokar. "Don''t tell anyone else about this without her orders. I''ll head down there and do what I can. Tanith, is this your doing?"


    "No," said Tanith. "Either he''s here to settle the score, or he''s switching sides."


    "Why would he do that?" asked Sokar. "And why should I care? We should kill him."


    "...Have you ever heard the story of Nendas the Wise?" asked Tanith suddenly. Furbearers often gave advice through stories, or so she had read.


    "What?" said Sokar. "No."


    "Nendas was one of the greatest swordsmen of Tarasif," said Tanith. "He was loyal to his uncle Munsuf, and to his King, and to his Goddess equally. But his uncle Munsuf was a worthless layabout. He delegated everything to his younger brother, Vandias.


    "Now, King Samrasa saw a chance to destroy the Hasafa Clan. And he incited jealousy in Munsuf and convinced him to swear Nendas to Samrasa''s service. Then, playing a fatherly role to Nendas, he arranged for Vandias'' murder. Samrasa tried to pretend like Vandias'' had been murdered by his own political enemies.


    "But Nendas was wise.


    "He knew his Uncle; he knew Samrasa wanted to use him. But he also knew that King Samrasa and his Uncle were too strong. So, Nendas played the role of the perfect, illiterate, stupid servant. He believed in King Samrasa, he stayed out of politics, and he defeated the enemies of Tarasif. And he waited for the chance to destroy each enemy with perfect moral superiority.


    "His Father''s murderer, Samrasa ordered him to kill his enemy Ralign, and he did. Munsuf was dragged down to hell when the gods could no longer abide him. And Samrasa, he allowed to live long to shred his reputation completely. Before killing them in one stroke, defending his Kingdom from his own King.


    "Now, once he finished his revenge, he married his childhood sweetheart. Then he became an invaluable asset to a benevolent King. And he lived happily ever after. Until the end of his days."


    Sokar nodded. "...Alright, we''ll play the servant.


    Sokar was smart.


    Tavish Kern they found leaning against a tree, spinning his knife with one finger. There was a ring at the base of the knife he''d slipped a finger through. Several other armed men were present with drawn swords, and Tanith stepped forward.


    "So you''re the attack dog, huh?" asked Tavish, blowing a bang of dark hair from his face. "Cuter than I thought."


    Tanith flushed, and her hands went to her swords. "Call me cute again, and I''ll snap your neck."


    "Has a lot of spirit, though," said Tavish.


    "Are you here to parley or just let your hair fly in the wind?" asked Sokar. "Though I don''t see why these rights should apply to you, Tavish.


    "You are a liar and an assassin. And honorless cur that brings curses down on your countrymen. What rights remain to you that you have not burned?"


    "I''d prefer to think of myself as an exceptional thief," said Tavish, with the air of one who has heard it all before. "Either way, I''m just the messenger. You and I have a common cause."


    "No, we really don''t," said Sokar.


    Tavish laughed. "Both of us hate the planters.


    "They are the only reason I ended up selling you people for slaves, and now they''ve backstabbed me."


    "Good," said Sokar. "You went into business with slavers, and you''re surprised it backfired? Father was right about you. And I took your part; we welcomed you into our home!"


    "Do you think my network only carries slaves?" asked Tavish. "And it didn''t take years; it took three months. I just pieced together all the operations, talked to the right people. All it took was running a couple of messages and getting the muscle.


    "I built this thing to bypass taxes. So when I say that what I did was nothing personal, you can believe it."


    "Nothing personal?!" said Sokar.


    "You were doomed anyway," said Tavish. "Someone would have done it eventually. I figured out the best way to exploit it, and you paid the price for your sins."


    "What sins?!" said Sokar.


    "Stupidity for a start," said Tavish calmly. "You were stupid enough to not be prepared for an invasion. And Harlenorians despise stupidity.


    "Your kind-hearted little village mocked me."


    "Kata had thought you''d changed," said Sokar.


    "Oh, you ignorant little slave!" said Tavish in a rage. "I''m a Harlenorian! I''ve built an Empire from the dispossessed and the needy and used their labor to serve my nation! They rely on me to keep business flowing, and I rely on my Father!


    "And I''m not going to sell all of them up the river because your Father was too stupid to make an alliance with House Kern! I gave you a lifeline, and you shut it down!


    "Nobody is going to stick their neck out for you if you don''t bring anything to the table. Now, do you want to hear my offer or not?"


    Silence.


    "Tell me your offer," said Sokar, expressionless.


    It was amazing how quickly Tavish changed his appearance. He went from enraged to suave in an instant.


    "Well, there''s a strange story behind that," said Tavish Kern. "See, I run into William Gabriel accidentally on purpose by the roadside, and he informs me that Lord Rius is back. He''s also said that I''m the guy everyone is using as a scapegoat."


    "Why would he work with you?" asked Sokar.


    "He made me aware of an opportunity," said Tavish. "I need to work with you to get Atravain off my back. You need me if you want to get your people back."


    "And what do you want me to do?" asked Sokar.


    "I just need you to keep this little cave open," said Tavish. "All my systems are tailored to run to it anyway. Do that, and I''ll free all the slaves throughout the plantations and bring them back here."


    "Why?" asked Sokar, surprised. "Why do you care?"


    "Because doing that will decrease Atravain''s bargaining power," said Tavish. "If she doesn''t have any workforce at all, she will have to give a better deal. On the other hand, if she keeps the slaves, she can stall until people out here have no choice.


    "I''m denying these people the chance to make a big show of their mercy. Atravain doesn''t get to play hero at my expense."


    "Funny, I could say something similar about you," said Sokar.


    "Do and think what you want," said Tavish with a shrug. "I don''t care. If this place stays open, I''ll be sending a lot of Furbearers and slaves through here. If it doesn''t, I''ll find some other place to send them. And people there might be willing to pay me. It''s your choice, Sokar."


    "What do you want for this favor?" asked Sokar. "Or is this goodwill?"


    "Call it balancing the books," said Tavish. "I owe you for backstabbing, so I''m giving you a lifeline. I''m doing it because you are now a threat, and I can get back at an enemy by paying you back. There''s no difference between the two. One gesture expects another.


    "If you want it to be a favor, put me in contact with Rius. He''s holding a shipment I need to verify."


    Tanith nodded. "...I could get in contact with Farwa and Kata. Hiding something like this from him would be acting in bad faith. But Rius is done. Lilas has probably already left the city by now, and Rius doesn''t get it."


    "Fine," said Tavish. "Then I''ll work directly with Farwa. I''ve had more out of this than I bargained for already. Good luck."


    Tavish turned and walked off. Tanith and Sokar moved back.


    "We''re done with Rius," said Tanith.


    "You''re done with Rius, Tanith; I can''t afford to pick a fight," said Sokar.


    "I don''t need you for this," said Tanith.


    Then she drew up an amulet she had at her neck. It was a hammer, a symbol of Kreshlak Kusher had given her. She''d carried it all through Khasmir, though she wasn''t sure why. Elranor was her god.


    Well, it didn''t matter anymore. Kusher would like what came next.


    Both of them would want the same thing here.


    So Tanith talked out of the former slaver compound, not bothering to put on her armor. Taking her swords, she walked straight to Lord Rius'' house and halted outside.


    "Lord Rius," said Tanith. "Is no longer Lord of Ascorn.


    "He has forfeit that privilege by his crimes against the King and the people! He has publically shown scorn for Harlenor and the Gods! He works with foreigners and insults and belittles loyal allies!


    "He has allowed the plague to spread through the streets. As of this moment, I declare Lord Rius under arrest!"


    Dead silence and Farwa rushed up, looking very beautiful and panicked. "Tanith, you''re deranged! You can''t make this kind of statement in front of a crowd. And you don''t have the authority-"


    "I don''t care if a crowd is present," said Tanith. "Rius is their enemy, as he is mine. And he is yours if you are really a Paladin.


    "We''ve been trying to piece this place together. And Rius has done nothing but undercut us!


    "Not once has he gone on a ship and attacked the enemies of Harlenor! Not once has he aided in the recruitment. All he''s done is meet with merchants, plotting how to feast on one corpse or another. He and every other spoiled, entitled brat who dares to call themselves a noble!


    "This is unworthy of nobility. Fighting men are thrown onto the streets and forced to serve common criminals. The priests of the temples cared nothing for their flock. They are delegating to mercenaries. A common, fat imbecile like Reg Hawkthorne took Antion''s most important port. And yet, the nobility has done nothing.


    "This is a disgrace!"


    "Tanith, stop this!" said Kata coming.


    None of the people were defending him, and murmurs of agreement could be heard.


    "Stop what?!" roared Tanith. "The plague that has spread to Haldren by Rius'' merchant friends while he refuses to honor his pledge to you? The bandits who stalk the roadways bearing seals of royal approval?!


    "The spread of foreign gods in blatant violation of the God Triumvirate?"


    "You''re wearing a symbol of Kreshlak at your neck," said Farwa.


    Tanith looked down and saw it glowing. "What of it? A symbol of Coinfurth is all around us!" said Tanith. "Symbols of Zigildrazia dance as prostitutes in every bar! It''s too late to stop any of it!" And she saw Rius with Suran at his side and many armed men. It was Rius'' personal guard. "And it''s all because of you, you selfish, self-serving bastard!"


    Dead silence.


    "Who rules here?" asked Rius with a smile. "Tanith Telus? Or Lord Rius?"


    Rius seemed disappointed when no one said anything.


    "No one!" said Tanith in return. "Satyrs are stalking the roadways and mobilizing near the Black Mountain! Criminals warrant personal meetings with royalty! And loyal servants are left on the street to die! Great warriors are scorned in favor of merchants who play tyrant to better men than them!"


    "You have no authority here, Tanith," said Farwa. "Rius'' authority comes from King Andoa."


    "King Andoa would agree with me," said Tanith, the laughter in her head fading. "King Andoa loves his people! Apparently, he is the only one. Tell me, Farwa, has Lord Rius told you about his arrangement with Baron Hawkthorne?


    "The one involving Reg."


    "There was no such arrangement," said Suran suddenly. "I was at the Castle of Lady Atravain, where we discussed our response. Baron Hawkthorne had received no such arrangement and did not intend to ask for them. He deemed it impossible.


    "I remember William tried to convince Hawkthorne to soften his viewpoint. But he said that Reg had already been sent to Neral Dinis to end the feud." He looked to Rius, who cringed. "Lord Rius, you must forgive her. She is manic, overworked from strain; I have seen many such men in this state of late.


    "Lord Rius." The laughter continued. Laughter from all around while the amulet blazed.


    Dead silence.


    "You lying bastard," said Farwa. "You sent a captive noble into the hands of a vampire!"


    "He was a disgrace to his rank!" said Rius.


    "So are you," said Farwa hotly. "You have now all but paid tribute to one of the darkest powers in this world. I cannot defend this, not on top of everything the Lady Telus has cited."


    "It does not matter what you defend," said Rius. "My power derives from the King and is absolute. You have no authority! You serve at my beck and call, and I order you out of my city at once!"


    No. Not this time.


    "Vendetta," said Tanith, raising a hand to point. "I invoke the right of vendetta.


    "Lord Rius, you have betrayed your people to foreign influences. You have given the enemies of Harlenor free reign. You used your Master as a shield to pursue personal profit. You have left your post on the battlefield vacant.


    "But worst of all, you have refused to allow me to attend meetings that concern my house. Meetings with merchants from Haldren. Even as you cite the danger of the spreading the plague to cheat my friends, Kata and Sokar, of their rightful due.


    "I challenge you to single combat."


    "Tanith," said Suran. "The laws of Antion-"


    "No longer exist," said Tanith. "This man has destroyed them. Him and those like him."


    "By whose authority?" asked Rius with a smirk.


    "The people are my authority," said Tanith.


    Absolute silence.


    "The people?!" said Rius, staring at them.


    "Are they not more than empty vessels for your profit!" said Tanith. "You are a coward!"


    "This is absurd," said Rius. Then he turned to the armored men of his personal guard. "I am the Lord of this place. Kill her."


    "You cannot murder nobility!" said Farwa.


    Men with spears moved forward en mass, and Farwa went for her blade. But Tanith raised a hand for her to stop. On came the spears, and then Tanith stepped aside, grabbed his spear under one armpit, and threw them to one side. Then, smashing one of the armored men aside, she moved aside from another. Then she caught the man through the visor. The blade pierced right through, and she pulled the spear from the next.


    Turning, she stabbed it through the two who had fallen. Then she ducked under a stab and drew a dagger from her opponent''s belt. Jabbing it through her enemy''s visor, she watched blood pour out. Spinning away, she feigned to grasp her swords as they attacked her.


    Kicking off the wall, she leaped over them. Then she snapped the neck of one and slashed another with his own dagger. Grabbing a corpse before it fell, she hurled it at another enemy, who fell back with a crunch and lay still. One man came at her with a sword, but Tanith moved aside from him, backing away. Finally, he struck, but Tanith stepped aside, and his sword was broken on the wall. Pulling it out, she jammed the blade into his visor and let him fall. Two men were hanging back, and one hurled his spear. Catching it in midair, Tanith turned around and hurled it back. It went between the gap in his helmet as the last one stared in horror.


    Throwing down his sword, he ran away, screaming at the top of his lungs. Tanith got him in the back with a dagger.


    "That''s for cowardice," said Tanith. And she turned to Rius, who tried to flee but found the crowd before him. "Face me, Rius."


    "Champion!" said Rius. "I need a champion!"


    The people laughed and jeered at him, and some threw things.


    Suran stepped forward. "I will face her in the name of the King."


    "Stand down, Suran," said Farwa. "That is an order."


    "Lady Farwa," said Suran. "Someone must stand for Lord Rius in this. This action is illegal. I cannot allow a Lord of Ascorn to be killed."


    Suran drew his swords.


    Now, this was what Tanith had been waiting for. Her blades were out in an instant, and they squared off.


    "You would face her in armor," said Farwa. "She without? I will not-"


    Tanith sprang forward toward Suran, relishing the challenge, and they dueled. They fought back and forth and around, swords glinting as they moved in a blur. Suran proved the more methodical fighter, but Tanith''s mania was on her. Fighting faster and faster, she attacked, and he matched her.


    He was good.


    Very good.


    Tanith drove him back, but he maneuvered around, and she realized she''d found an equal at last. Raynald had always been too far above her, and William had always been a bit behind. Now, however, she fought with mania and relish, as Suran appreciated the battle in turn.


    He was amazing.


    By a long shot, his skill with a blade was like nothing she''d seen. Yet, no one said a word as the crowd stared at the duel between them.


    "You missed your calling, Suran," said Tanith. "You should have been a berserker of Kreshlak. You could have gone far."


    "My calling is here," said Suran. "Serving the laws of Antion." And passing one another, Tanith felt a wound open on her arm. Turning, her blade rang against Suran''s arm, and he fell to one knee. Another blow caught him on the helm, but he got her across the leg. A slight, faint wound, but Tanith smiled.


    This was a new experience for both of them.


    And then Suran lunged forward and shoved her aside. "Lord Rius-"


    A crossbow bolt passed over his shoulder and bounced off the cobblestones. "Get out of my way, Suran! I''m going to finish this hound!"


    "The rules of single combat-" began Suran.


    "Do not apply!" said Rius. "I am above the law! My power over this city is absolute! I cannot be prosecuted, questioned, or countermanded in any way! No god or King or lawman has the right to put me on trial!


    "Not a trial by arms or a trial by my peers! You dare to speak to me, you ill-born brat! You are my property!"


    "Lord Rius," said Suran. "No one is above the law. Especially the nobility-"


    Without a word, Rius shot him through the heart. Then, kicking him down, he drew his own sword and moved toward Tanith, who was getting up. "You will not take my power from me!"


    And brought the sword down. But Tanith lunged up and caught his hands, turning the sword in midair and stabbing it into the ground. And for the first time, she thought she might have gone a little far. "Lord Rius, calm yourself.


    "You are no match for a trained fighter-"


    Rius spat in her face and drew a dagger to plunge it at her heart. Tanith knocked the blade, but he drew it out and slashed at her throat. Tanith stepped back and raised one of her swords, though her blood was flowing copiously.


    Looking out at the bodies of the men she had killed, she wondered if Lord Rius had cared about them. What of it? Tanith had killed many men, most of them Calishan. And these men were Rius'' personal guard. They were as much responsible for this as he was, yet they were still Harlenorian.


    How had it come to this?


    "Ill bred bitch! Breeding mongrel of the uncouth Haldrenians!" said Rius. "Your violent and useless heritage is nothing to me!"


    Throwing aside her weapon, Tanith knew she would not need it. "Stand down, Rius. You only disgrace yourself."


    It was all too late now.


    However, as Rius came forward, Sokar leaped before him and grabbed the knife. He turned the knife around. Rius'' gaze became terrified, screaming and howling. Little by little, Sokar turned the blade to him, and Tanith almost raised a hand to stop him.


    No.


    This was Sokar''s choice and moment. If ever there would be an occasion to kill nobility, now was it.


    The blade sank deep, and Rius howled screaming and blubbing like the immature child he was, as Sokar pressed him to the dirt. Sokar forced him down, pressing him low as Rius'' breathed his last in terror. Tanith found herself sick, even as Farwa finished healing Suran and did the same to her.


    The crowd went wild. Surging forward, they grabbed Rius'' corpses and began to rip it apart with glee as though devils grasping his soul. A similar scene was likely playing out in hell.


    "I have killed Harlenorians," said Tanith to herself as cheers echoed from the crowds.


    "I have killed Harlenorians," said Tanith as Farwa healed Suran and then her.


    "I have killed Harlenorians," said Tanith as drinks were handed out.


    Rius had deserved it; she was defending herself from his men. They had attacked her many at a time, and then he''d cheated in the duel. Why did she care?


    Did she feel sorry for Rius?


    No.


    Soon Tanith found herself nursing a drink. Why could not enjoy this as others? So she wondered as she drank, thinking to herself.


    "Because we''re not any better than him in the end," said Suran, looking depressed.


    "No, we are better than him," said Tanith. "It''s an objective fact. We have tried to do something about all this. Rius never did."


    Suran paused. "So why?"


    "I think I''m at peace," realized Tanith. "For the first time in my life, I feel... good."


    "Are you going to stop killing people?" asked Farwa.


    "It''s my job," said Tanith. "And really, it''s what I''m good at and what I enjoy. I guess I''ll try to become more selective in my violence. I''ve got time, maybe get married to William or something."


    "It''s the logical match," said Farwa. "Judging from the celebrations, the people of this town were as frustrated with him as you. I planned to write a very negative report to Lord Dunmoore and King Andoa.


    "Some sort of action would have been taken. King Andoa has stripped men of their titles before. Oh, Lilas and Anborn both departed about an hour ago. The meeting was brief indeed."


    "So what happens now?" asked Tanith.


    "Rius had no children," said Farwa. "And he spent almost no time with women. Ascorn will have to be awarded to someone who distinguished themselves."


    "No hard feelings then?" asked Tanith.


    "A few," said Farwa. "But there has been a rumor that his grace King Andoa is soft. The execution of Rius should quell those rumors."


    At that moment, Imogen appeared. "Hey, it''s me. Imogen.


    "Suran, how''d you like to work for the High Priest."


    That was over quick.

 Chapter 152 - Three: Chivalric Crossroads

    A red sun rose over the sky that morning as the wind howled.


    Jehair watched it rise, her braids flying around her as the window howled, leather looking very good on her as she polished her scythe. Frowning, she turned to William. A robin landed on her shoulder and was chirping in her ear, and her expression went mournful. "The birds tell me of battles along the border and in Ascorn. Nobles have been slain."


    "Nobles?" asked William. "Which ones?"


    "Birds can''t say that much," said Jehair. "They don''t see nearly well enough.


    "But they spear of growing darkness. Powers of evil are rising."


    It was a crossroads of sorts to symbolize one thing or another.


    William wondered if the days would wear on like this much longer, or if they would come to a pleasant end. Jehair was beautiful, at least, and he had felt her gaze on him once or twice.


    "Are you certain this chimera is coming, William?" asked Jehair after a moment.


    "Yes, I''m quite certain," said William, smiling at the idea that Massacre belonged to him in any way. "I don''t want to get too far ahead of her, she knows my music well."


    "It is fine music indeed," said Jehair. "Did Rusara teach you?"


    "Yes, actually," said William. "It was one of the things she instructed me in, as well as several of the lesser spells."


    "Ah, you must be one of her favorites then," said Jehair, smiling. "Music she teaches to many, but spells are reserved for those who have her favor."


    "You speak as though she were a god," noted William.


    "Well, she has a level of power comparable to some deities," said Jehair. "Not in the personal sense, but she has friends everywhere."


    "Mighty is not a word I should call him, though I suppose it fits," said William.


    "And what would you call him?" asked Jehair.


    "Wise, reasonable, cunning, powerful perhaps," said William.


    "Scheming," said Felix suddenly.


    "Scheming?" asked William, looking back.


    "Schemes are not necessarily a bad thing, William," said Felix. "We''re enacting schemes right now. Elranor as well."


    "I suppose he does," said William. "Elranor does not usually make open displays of power. I''ve only ever seen one when he killed Laughing Wraith."


    "It must have been very personal for him," said Jehair.


    "What is personal for you, Jehair?" asked William.


    "I believe the universe has a way of changing to suit your nature," said Jehair. "When you invite a thing into yourself, it naturally attracts things like it. If you perform good deeds, they will be drawn to you. If you perform acts of cruelty, they are naturally drawn to you as well."


    "I believe in entering the darkness to kill it," said William.


    "Well, for my part," said Jehair. "I prefer the part of the well-intentioned bystander."


    "Do you hate what I stand for, Jehair?" asked William.


    "In a word, yes," said Jehair. "You certainly fight for what is right, but you hold to absolutes even as you do so. You may work to amend problems that happen as a result of the human class system. But you seem zealously devoted to defending it.


    "What is your plan?"


    "Force the abusive factions of Antion into a stalemate," said William, thinking about it. "At the same time, encourage action to chip away at the foundation of their power.


    "Which would force our enemies to try and redeem themselves."


    "What makes you think Atravain won''t just wipe out Tavish''s people?" asked Jehair. "Their power is not in military means."


    "Felix, if you would?" asked William.


    "The Paladin Order is focused on the plague, and it will take some time to get rid of the Healer''s Guild," said Felix. "Tavish is sure to know what they are doing long before they even begin to muster. Armies are obvious. And William judges Luke to be a good person.


    "As for Tavish, he''ll know he can''t fight them, so he''ll want to get his money out and go."


    "What if he decides to kill the slaves?" asked Jehair.


    "It would be a stupid move," said Felix. "Tavish is not stupid. He can''t strike at Atravain from any direction save the moral high ground."


    Elranor had been setting things up very well lately.


    "What is Kafka''s connection to any of this?" asked William.


    Jehair smiled.


    "You know your relationship with Tanith?" asked Jehair.


    "What of it?" asked William.


    "Would you be able to keep her in line if she was the highest-ranking person in your group?" asked Jehair.


    William thought about that. "I might. It would depend on the nature of the situation. Tanith respects tradition, and I might be to channel her. She also is loyal to Harlenor.


    "I don''t think she''d do the kind of bloodletting you describe among Harlenorians. She loves her country."


    Jehair seemed irritated by the answer. "Why are you so dead set on not avenging those atrocities?"


    "It isn''t my place to seek vengeance," said William. "And it goes against the basic principles of House Gabriel.


    "Systems work at their best when every person in the system has a stake. If everyone has a reason for the system to continue, you won''t have much in the way of rebellions. That is the guiding principle behind House Gabriel''s rule.


    "And it has worked enormously well. So powerful that several nations spanning conspiracies joined forces to take us out. And we''ve wiped them out without even knowing they were there.


    "Slavery is precisely the antithesis of this philosophy.


    "A household slave might have an incentive for the household to function. They are seen by their master and can be rewarded. But the slaves being worked to death in the fields have no incentive. They have every incentive to rebel and kill their master, and no amount of preaching will get past that.


    "As a result, any nation that uses a lot of slaves must spend vast amounts of resources ensuring they don''t rebel. In the end, you might make a short-term profit, but you''ll only destroy yourself. Just look at how much trouble Atravain''s actions have cost her.


    "We don''t need to kill slavery, merely contain it until it eats itself alive.


    "Also, it would be a stupid move."


    Jehair looked at him for a moment and finally laughed in a slightly bitter fashion. "I knew you were cleverer than you led on to be, William. I wonder why it was you were chosen as a Paladin and not some other career."


    "Being a Paladin does not mean being a fool," said William.


    "What about the Islands of Power?" asked Felix suddenly. "No collapse has happened there."


    William remembered all he had read of those places. By all accounts, the sugar plantations were very profitable. Father had talked to many and focused on honey instead of sugar, but it distressed him what he knew of them. How best to account forth their horrors?


    "Those colonies are isolated areas that need constant resources from Sorn," said William. "And they aren''t really colonies at all, more military outposts which oversee harvests. Those outposts operate in secluded areas that cannot be accessed save by sea or air. When transplanted to Harlenor, the results can be seen all around us.


    "Once it becomes clear how unworkable slavery is, the institution will be abandoned. All you need do is convince enough people to stop buying the luxuries they make; they would fail very quickly."


    "Easier said than done, child," said Jehair. "I have heard of Vanion''s efforts in that regard. It made him an enemy of many Sornian merchants. Yet how do you know they won''t simply lighten to the load as you have?"


    William felt like he was being interrogated and he wondered how to respond.


    "It''s a slippery slope," said William. "Once you admit that the best way to motivate a worker is to pay him, him being a slave is not an asset. The further you go down that path, the more you realize you have to set them free."


    Jehair laughed, and it was a nice laugh.


    "What''s funny?" asked William.


    "You''re an optimist," said Jehair. "What do you intend to do for the ones that become attached to slavery? Who likes having power over their inferiors and fighting tooth and nail to protect the system?"


    "Crush them," said William. "Discipline is an important quality of making a good person. And pain is a form of discipline."


    "Are you sure of that?" asked Jehair, raising an eyebrow.


    "You astonish me," laughed Jehair loudly with a tinge of self-hatred. "To make a callous disregard for life a virtue is an achievement only a serpent could make.


    "I have not laughed in a long time."


    "Thank you," said William. "I am pleased to entertain a Lady. Do you know my mentor, Raynald?"


    "Yes," said Jehair. "I would consider him the most dangerous man in Harlenor. I am glad Rusara is able to restrain him a bit. Before he met her and Vanion he was... destructive. Now he is channeled toward more productive ends."


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    "Raynald is a great man," said William, not sure he liked her answer. "He defeated the demons in Khasmir and taught me everything I know of swordplay. Though Mother taught me to wield my shield and Maria tried to teach me to use a bow.


    "And he is the greatest swordsman who ever lived."


    Jehair smiled and there was real warmth.


    Then Massacre loped down the path, looking very pleased with herself. On her back was Grace, clad in a more practical white set of pants and a red cloak. As she approached, she landed, her ample breasts bouncing with the movement as her hair flowed. She smiled brightly as she saw them.


    "William! I''ve got bad news!" said Grace.


    "What is it?" asked William. "Why did Massacre let you bear her?"


    Grace pet Massacre affectionately. "I have good contact with woodland creatures." She halted. "Um, Lord Rius is dead."


    "What?" asked William. "How?"


    "There was a rebellion," said Grace. "Apparently, Tanith was deliberately excluded from important meetings with people from Haldren. Then Rius broke his word to the Furbearers and duped Anborn into talking to him alone.


    "Tanith challenged Rius to single combat. She killed his guards without armor or weapon, and Suran fought as his champion. But then Rius went after Tanith with a crossbow. Once he did that, Sokar, the Furbearer''s leader, executed him for crimes against the people."


    "Why?" asked William. "Rius seemed to understand his own city well enough. So why would he make that kind of move against House Telus unless...


    "He was planning to turn on them." He took a deep breathe. "Don''t panic. King Gavin would not desire war. There is a chance to avert this.


    "Still, at this point, we can do nothing. Everything will be resolved long before we get back. Our course now heads to Brisgald, the realm of my family. I''m not going to be around when this situation becomes a full-civil war.


    "But I can talk with my uncle, Arthur. We''ll take the King''s road as far as we can. We need haste here."


    At that moment, around the corner came Janice, a gray cloak flowing behind her. "William, your life is in danger."


    "Janice?" asked William.


    Janice halted. "You can''t take this way. Lamech is waiting up ahead to ambush any Paladins or Knights who go by. He has already killed three and hung their shields from the trees. As well as the weapons of their entourage."


    "What?!" said William.


    "He has set out a challenge on the road and made his whereabouts known in the lands around," said Janicem brushing a strand of white hair from her face. "He is trying to lure you, or Lord Dunmoore out. Several Paladins have set out to kill him and tasted death."


    William drew his sword. "Then I''ll deal with him myself."


    "You''re a fool then," said Janice. "Lamech fights like a god; he recently fought it out with six knights at once."


    "I''m a Paladin," said William. "Playing the part is part of the job. Come, let''s see to this."


    "I say we gang up on him and hack him to pieces," said Felix.


    "I agree with your servant," said Janice, then. She and Grace shared a look and looked over one another for a moment too long. Then they continued.


    "We''ll deal with that when the time comes," said William.


    William walked down the road, paying heed to an abandoned farmhouse that had been burned. The crops, once growing high, had been hewed to worthlessness. And whoever lived there had fled or died.


    And at last, they came to the tree. Sure enough, the shields were hanging from it, and the weapons planted around it like a dark shring.


    And there was the dark shield, sable and unblazoned on the branch. And standing beneath the tree was Jaina, sitting in the shade and resting, a blue hook pulled over her head. Her legs were crossed, and her bosom rose and fell lightly as she read a book. Looking up, her blue eyes widened. "William, wait, it''s a trap!" S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Jaina, you''re here too?" asked William, noticing Janice and Grace''s eyes lingered on her.


    "Yes, Lamech is up that way," said Jaina. "He''s hung the shields of three knights and six others."


    "Who were they?" asked William.


    "Erm..." Jaina haltered. "Members of the Paladin Order who had taken liberties with their duties while in my Mother''s lands. As well as several knights who have been abusing the population especially badly.


    "Dunmoore and he are both on Prince Bor''s council, but there has been some kind of falling out. So now Lamech is luring men out to kill them."


    "You''ve been orchestrating the assassination of your political rivals again," said Grace with a sigh. This was not the first time this had happened?


    "No," said Jaina defensively. "Well, yes, but none of them are from this world. Lamech has deliberately targeted Paladins from Kadan. You see, Dunmoore uses them as enforcers.


    "He brings them over from Bretus. Things are more ruthless there and use them to handle the nobility''s problems. They have no personal connections out here, so he can rely on them. Paladins in Bretus tend to have to flee into exile a lot, so they owe him everything."


    William raised an eyebrow. "And you have allowed this?"


    "Lamech was going to do it either way," said Jaina. "I gave him the means to do it in a way that spared my people. Anyone who comes from my camp, I warn off.


    "Now that Rundas has been shut out, Dunmoore basically runs the church. If his influence isn''t checked, he''ll run the heartlands. And none of them have to accept the challenge."


    "You''ve been killing Paladins," said William, shocked.


    "The Paladin Order is due a reckoning, William," said Janice. "And Farwa just tried to take over Ascorn.


    "Do you know that one demanded payment after taking out the Healers Guild. Hundreds of gold coins in exchange for doing his job. Another completely abandoned his responsibilities as a healer because it was boring. All of these people were refusing to do their work, so I gave them new work. I sent them here to kill Lamech.


    "Just as Jaina sent Lamech here to kill them. It''s just that Lamech keeps winning. It''s not my fault if they can''t do the job they insist on taking."


    "You have been killing Paladins," said William.


    "You have to understand," said Grace. "Dunmoore is a terrible person.


    "Yes, I know he seems very noble and reasonable. But the truth is that he''s part of crime syndicate. His job is to be the face of the organization, so nobody rocks the boat. The reason all these Paladins are coming out here is that Dunmoore put a hit out on Lamech."


    "Dunmoore didn''t support taking out the Healer''s Guild because it was evil," said Janice. "He did it because it was already losing. By putting his seal on the operation, he can take control here."


    "I suspect that Dunmoore fell from grace a long time ago," said Jaina. "It''s the only explanation for why things have gotten this out of hand. Prince Bor gave him that position so he''d keep control of the Guild while we phased it out.


    "Now, look what has happened."


    William halted and tried to find the words. "I would not presume to pass judgment in this situation. So I''m just going to do what I have to." And he moved toward the tree.


    "No!" said Grace, stepping in front of him with arms out in a cross, her hair flowing behind. "Just pass the shield by; he can''t go after you unless you hit it.


    "It''s the rules." Her blue eyes were wide with concern, and he realized she was afraid for him. They all were.


    But why?


    William walked up to the shield and saw a hammer hanging by it. "Standards for knights in seem to have dropped greatly. So, they will have to be raised again."


    "They never really existed," said Felix.


    "They did once. For a brief and fair time, long ago," said Jehair sadly. "It won''t come again, though."


    "Don''t be absurd," said William. "A man of chivalry is perfectly attainable. You merely need discipline tand compassion." Granted, he had no personal experience, but there were plenty of indications.


    "''Strike this shield, and things will go ill,''" read William. Then he thought about what he would do if he were a Blackguard. "Felix, hand me a rock."


    Felix picked one up and tossed it to him, and William stepped back. Then, distancing himself, he threw the rock. It hurtled through the air and banged off the shield. There was a flaring of magic, and nothing happened.


    All of a sudden, a darkness fell over the sun, and William saw, walking toward him, a foul fiend. Lamech, he might have been called, but this was not he. His armor had become the form of a demon, and his eyes were now flaming with yellow. His skin was almost a shadow. In one hand was gripped his great sword so that he towered over others. At his side was a quiver full of pears.


    For a moment, William considered making a run for it. Then, considering that he could not abandon those here, he resolved to stand his ground. Laughter came from Lamech as he neared, and William drew his sword.


    "So, you saw the spell," said Lamech. "You are more intelligent than I thought."


    "Spell," said Jaina. "But...


    "But how? I checked both sides! I saw this shield painted! I know there is no magic on it! All of them had a fair fight!"


    "And then I swapped it with a perfect replica I had put together in advance," said Lamech. "Sable and unblazoned, as is my custom. And no man may tell me my custom.


    "Wouldn''t you agree, Paladin?"


    William stood his ground. "That custom will be amended."


    "You defend it with your every breath," said Lamech.


    "Throw me a spear if you are not too great a coward to face me fairly," said William.


    "As you wish," said Lamech. "You are the challenger. To you went the first blow!"


    Then, snatching up a spear, it burst into flame in his hand, and he cast it at William. Raising his shield, William felt the impact as the spear landed. It pierced through over his arm. And another was thrown soon as well. This one William moved aside from as he drew his sword, and a spear lodged in the sand.


    "Lamech," said William. "You stand on a highway of King, patrolled by the righteous! Even I fall, another will slay you in my place!" But, though William would admit, he was enjoying it.


    "Perfect," said Lamech.


    Then he laughed and hurled another spear, and it shot toward William in new flame. He ducked, but it glanced off his helm, and the strength of it stunned him. The helmet became steadily hotter, and it pained him badly. Falling back, William pulled off the helm and saw another spear coming at him.


    Raising the shield, the spear went through it again. This time, it grazed his hand; though it did not pierce the armor, its force hurt. Throwing aside his shield, he aimed for Lamech''s shield. Then William knocked aside a spear and then moved toward Lamech. Yet Lamech stabbed down at his foot, and when he moved aside, he pulled the spear through the earth. The force of it nearly knocked William off his feet.


    Falling down, William landed and saw Lamech raising his sword for the kill. Rolling aside, William rose up and grabbed Lamech by the belt. Then, pulling himself up, he smashed Lamech with his blade across the shoulder. His enemy stumbled back. A cheer came from the three maidens, but now Lamech became angry.


    He attacked aggressively, and William, without a shield, had to meet him in pure strength. And Lamech was the stronger. His power was immense. Back he was forced, and their duel waged, striking the other many times. Yet neither could gain the advantage.


    "You are formidable, I''ll admit," said Lamech. "A suitable starting point. Once I have finished you, I''ll have no need to remain in this place. I''ve gotten what I came for."


    "Oh, have you?" asked William, circling around toward the unblazoned shield. "You can''t even defeat your opponents fairly."


    "Only a fool gives up an advantage when it is available," said Lamech. And he rained a blow that William halted with the flat of his blade. It nearly took him off his feet, and dust was thrown up by it. "This was no duel; it was a hunt. The idiots accepted the surface appearance. They walked to their death by striking the shield. I should think you would appreciate that."


    "Do not confuse an intelligent man with a monster," said William, dodging another blow. Lamech stepped away with lightning speed and struck back. It nearly took off William''s head.


    "As you like it, fool," said Lamech. "Walking into a trap to remove a threat to your own kind is not good survival tactics." Then with a laugh, he attacked head-on, striking with vicious strikes. William yielded ground, seeing the tree behind him. Backing toward it, he parried and blocked until he was very near.


    Too fast and he''d hit it, too slow and Lamech would cut him to pierced.


    William backed away, then sprang aside like lightning as Lamech struck hard. "How do you explain yourself then!"


    Lamech struck his own shield. The ringing of it resounded through the trees and the fields and across the Black Mountain. And the noise was brought back by a gust of wind. Screaming in agony, Lamech reeled back. He was more hurt by his own nature than William had ever been by the Mirror of Laevian. And falling to the ground, his sword fell from his hand.


    "It wasn''t that strong before," said Jaina, shifting her hips as she moved forward. Was she trying to attract his gaze?


    "The spell was unleashed when I hit it with the stone," said William. "Then again, when I hit it with my shield. But it had nothing to go into. So he got a triple dose.


    "One for every Paladin he tried to murder. A wicked man in his own trap. See to it he lives, Jaina, and keep him guarded."


    "Let''s have his head and be done with it," said Janice, stretching her shoulders. She did it in a way that sent her breasts bouncing, almost by intention. Why was William noticing these things more? "He''s outlived his usefulness, and he''d do the same to us."


    "You can''t do that, Janice. He was working for you," said Grace, moving very near Janice with swaying hips. Then she looked to William as though for approval. "That makes him our responsibility. And the duels were fair, for the most part, and he''s been paid out for his cheating. We should heal him, give him back his sword and escort him out of here."


    "A punishment for the nobility," said Jaina.


    "Why should the commoners be the only ones to suffer?" asked Janice.


    "No," said William, sheathing his sword. "I want Lamech taken to the most secure dungeons you can find. He is to be interrogated, given no special treatment. He should be given to the Paladin Order.


    "Whatever use he had to us was done out of a desire to enact his dark impulses and designs. He cannot be allowed to remain free. And should not work with this man again lightly."


    "Well, it was a very good fight if it''s any consolation," said Jaina, moving near and almost brushing him.


    "And let the shields be given to Lord Dunmoore, that they might be given a place of due honor," said William. "And tell him what part you had in this.


    "We shall keep no secrets in this matter." Then he looked to Grace, who was unsteady. "We need someone to take him to. He''ll wake up soon."


    "I think there is a meeting of clergy down the road," said Janice. "I was going to meet him before I was turned back by Lamech."


    "What are you, mad?" said Janice, leaning on her staff. "Rundas will let him go and ask for a favor later."


    "Enough," said William. "We will take him to Dunmoore and tell him of the shields. You may use this to patch up this conflict. We can''t afford to let this escalate."


    Jaina sighed. "As you wish. I suppose the message has been sent."


    "You''re pleasant to talk with," said Grace.


    "Is that sarcasm," said William.


    "Not at all," said Grace.


    And on they walked. And William had to wonder at these threes fixation on him.

 Chapter 153 - Four: The State of the Church

    They soon came to an area of many flat lowlands and prosperous farming villages. Fewer slaves had been used out here, and the land was green and fertile. Now and then, they''d see ox carts carrying goods under guard by armed mercenaries. The road had many toll booths on it, the price paid for it being paved. Every so often, they''d see a shrine or a great monastery.


    The hunger did not seem nearly too bad here, nor did the diseases. This domain was ruled by the Lord Karkan Caskav, a cousin of Father''s old nemesis, Borinius. William was glad to have this company with him. Since Borinius'' disgrace, Caskav had been under the authority of Atravain. William was not keen on meeting the man.


    Meanwhile, Jaina, Janice, and Grace were eating at a different campfire. The three seemed to be speaking of some internal matter between them quite closely. Lamech was unconscious and bound to a rope to keep him asleep. His armor had been taken and thrown aside on the road, and his sword was in William''s keeping.


    It was heavy on his back, and the hilt hurt the hand to keep. None of the ladies had wanted to touch it. So they''d thrown it away.


    Often the three ladies, would look over at them, either with wary glances or smiles. Massacre kept all of them well supplied with rabbits to eat, and Jehair taught them all to forage for food.


    Grace was particularly interested in all this.


    "How have none of them been married off by now?" muttered Felix in irritation.


    "Atravain is very powerful," noted William. "And most of the other houses'' sons are already married. Perhaps some soldier promoted to replace Rius could marry Janice.


    "Prince Aris of Estal is not yet wed. And there is likely other Estalian nobility."


    "The men of Estal are regarded as somewhat quint in such circles," said Jehair. "And only Prince Aris would be considered as great as Atravain. I suppose you might be a contender as well."


    William noticed their glances turning his way, then toward the nearby town. He wondered if they were discussing the subject. It was important to their future; women were expected to be married. Though he supposed the priesthood was an option.


    "Where do we go from Brisgald?" asked William of Jehair over a meal.


    "Well, that depends on what kind of trip you want to make," said Jehair. "We''re bound for Brisgald first, of course. Then we must head south toward Gel Carn, by the main road or by Blackfear.


    "The King''s Road is perfectly safe and never has any trouble with bandits. Unfortunately, not everyone was content to act as glorified caravan guards from criminals. However, I expect you might welcome a chance to fight them. And many of them have been terrorizing the local villages to the south."


    "Terrorizing?" asked William.


    "Well, threatening," said Jehair, straightening her hair. Her outfit had been worn and muddied by her efforts. "The best are desperate and have nothing else to survive on. The worst are monsters."


    "Why aren''t they on the King''s Road?" asked Felix. "Surely they would make a better profit there."


    "There is an unofficial arrangement with the local lords," said Jehair. "You see, the King''s Road was built by Anoa the Builder, but it must be maintained. Now in the old days, when Harlenor was united, it was maintained by the King''s men. But with the fall of the Anoa IX, that system broke down.


    "You need to pay people if you want them to work for you. This even though everyone had a stake in keeping the road active. A truly inexplicable event."


    "Amusing. Go on," said William.


    "Well, the King''s Road has fallen into disarray in Escor, and it never reached Haldren," said Jehair. "But in Antion, the system became that the local Lords would be expected to keep it in good repair. Not doing so could be considered treason.


    "Aona I, the founder of Antion, actually sacked a castle because the road was falling apart. It was a chilling way to set a precedent, but it was effective. Of course, later, Kings took to giving the Lords an incentive.


    "They are entitled to charge a reasonable toll for anyone who walks through their territory in it. All to cover expenses, of course."


    "That seems like a system that can be abused," noted William.


    "Blindingly so," said Jehair with a nice smile. "The Border Hills had several bloody conflicts with the lands of Blackfear. It was mostly on the basis that they were overcharging. It was making it impossible for their merchants to get to their destination, so they had to sell early.


    "It is no exaggeration to say that virtually all of the negotiation that goes on here relates to the King''s Road."


    "What does this have to do with bandits?" asked Felix.


    "Think about this from the perspective of a merchant from Gel Carn, child," said Jehair. She drew a line in the dirt with her scythe. "You want to journey up through the Border Hills to Antion.


    "You would have to travel the entire King''s Road or most of it. No matter what business you did, you''d lose money on it. It''s one of the reasons Gel Carn has never recovered."


    "So they cheat," guessed William. "Merchants try to take alternative routes to skip the checkpoints." He ate from some rabbit Massacre had caught earlier. Massacre was munching on thorns to one side.


    "Very good, child," said Jehair with a laugh. "And so having bandits murdering all the merchants who go off the road seems very appealing. One of the jobs I started doing a century or two ago was negotiating on behalf of local communities."


    "That would raise prices enormously," said William. "What about vital supplies?"


    "There are special arrangements that are in place for emergencies," said Jehair. "In wartime, things usually only have a brief delay. But during peace, things can completely grind to a halt."


    "So the bandits are left unchecked?" asked William. Felix stood up to go wash his hands off in a stream, running down from the mountain.


    "Not unchecked," said Jehair. "If they start misbehaving too badly, the local Lords will crack down and slaughter some of them. Sometimes an entire gang has been wiped out. But the bandits started making interconnected alliances as well.


    "So often if a Lord gets too aggressive, they''ll find themselves with a very serious problem. Rius, I gather, took the policy of never taking any action."


    "Why not?" asked William.


    "Ascorn is too prominent to attack," said Jehair, brushing a braid from over her shoulder. "If they did, there would be a mass outcry. Or so was the assumption until now."


    And so they continued.


    Until, at last, their road came to the city of Antres, which had been founded by Sir Orson and his friend, John Rain, long ago. It had been a major center of smithing, taking iron shipments from the Border Hills. They turned it into plows and horseshoes and many other things. It sold wares that reached to many lands.


    But his line had died out when King Andoa I killed the last male heir in single combat. That had been when Andoa had returned from captivity among the elves of Qor''Danas as a ward. At the time, many had doubted his right to rule. The King had lamented it and built many shrines and cathedrals in later days. Much of his focus on helping the people and public works had been given form here.


    Now Antres stood on the southeastern corner of the Black Mountain, and it was less formidable. The stonework was once very fine for human hands. He had been made obsolete and little maintained. Evidence of stolen stones could be seen, and the town had grown beyond it. The smoke of forges was heavy in the air and cooking fires, and the cathedral Anoa had built was there as well. Now it was ruled by Caskav, and that worried William.


    Best not to make an open announcement of his presence.


    And on the road before them was Lord Dunmoore.


    In his hands was a huge, red sword planted in the ground before him. On either side were ranks of Paladins. Some looked grim, others resolved, and others averted their gaze.


    "Speak of Diabolus," said one of them.


    "Lord Dunmoore," said Janice, going forward at a slow gait. She looked back to William as she did, and he found his eyes drawn to her. His eyes looked her up and down despite his own efforts, and he tried to look away.


    His gaze then fell instead on Grace and found himself with the same issue. And turning away from her led to Jaina. Finally, he forced himself to focus on Dunmoore to not be distracted by their beauty.


    "Lady Janice, Jaina, and Grace? What are you doing here?" asked Dunmoore.


    "We come bearing a prisoner for you," said Janice. And she motioned to Lamech on the back of Massacre. "Lamech waylaid several Paladins and slew them in single combat.


    "Jaina gave him the means to do so that he would not harm innocents. Sir Gabriel defeated him, and we bring now their shields and Lamech for judgment."


    Dunmoore nodded and looked to two Paladins. "...Well done.


    "Take this man to Princess Ansara. Keep him there. Be sure that Sir Gabriel''s actions are noted. It is the least we can do. You three may pass."


    And they did but turned to look back as William came forward. He had the feeling this conversation was not going to go as well for him. So he kept out of sword range.


    "You have my thanks, Sir William Gabriel, but you may go no further," said Dunmoore. "Go back to Ascorn and abandon this quest."


    "Lord Dunmoore, why do you bar my passage?" asked William. "I go to my family''s lands."


    "And from there, Gel Carn," said Dunmoore, frowning. "I know well your political designs and the power of your family. So I cannot allow you to reach the Heir of Kings."


    "Lord Dunmoore, I am going to Gel Carn to take her measure, nothing more," said William. "She is not even my principal goal."


    "Can any man, however noble, have their word be trusted in these days," said Dunmoore sadly. "There is great good you could do here. But I cannot allow you to go further.


    "Do service as a healer and a knight. There is much glory in that, more than in any tournament."


    "This cannot be about the Heir of Kings," said William. "What hold is on you that you must do this?" He could not defeat Lord Dunmoore, although with Massacre he might have a chance. Yet the only victor would be Lamech.


    "Dark forces have a hold on all of us. And some all must tolerate," said Dunmoor. "Just as you tolerate Arraxia, I must tolerate others."


    "I must get to Gel Carn," said William, looking to the three women. The sun was smiling down on them while they were in the shade.


    "I will give you an oath that no harm shall be done to her while we are here."


    "But oaths are not always binding," said Dunmoore. "What if you came to that place and thought her the puppet of one who meant your house ill? You might argue, with real honor from your own perspective, that she was not the Heir of Kings but an imposter."


    "Lord Dunmoore, I will go through you if I must," said William firmly. "I have a friend to gain pardon for. To do otherwise is to risk open war with Adrian Wrynncurth."


    Dunmoore nodded but stood his ground. "Then do as you believe is right.


    William halted and contemplated his chances. Looking to Felix, then Massacre, then Jehair, he saw them tense. Could he afford to have a battle here? Even if they won, there would be casualties. Looking around, William searched for any way out. To go around would take a long time he did not have. And Dunmoore had trackers of his own, no doubt.


    "I will not turn back," said William. "Lord Dunmoore, it comes to this. You must either trust me to pass or act as I have promised. Or you must kill me. Or you must turn me back, knowing that I will find another way past.


    "Every duty both to family, friend, and nation compels me to go this way. I cannot abandon it."


    "But what about Ascorn and the death of Lord Rius?" said Grace suddenly.


    "What?!" said Dunmoore, looking back.


    "Yes, Lord Dunmoore, Rius was executed for crimes against the people," said Jaina.


    "How can this be?" asked Dunmoore. "Sir William, do you know of this?"


    "Apparently, he and his Captains had a falling out," said William. "They became convinced he was plotting to undermine their houses and keeping secrets. And agents of King Gavin were within the city. War may well happen if rapid action is not taken, and the Babarassians are poised to take advantage.


    "And Lamech on the road behind had been killing every Paladin that crossed that way. Finally, he is defeated and taken captive by House Atravain. You can find the shields hanging still. Lamech was a known associate of Rius and was openly allowed to do business."


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    Dunmoore seemed for a moment torn between grief and a kind of joy. And he looked like he had half a mind to yell in rage and the other to shout in joy. "This cannot be," he said, keeping the smile off his face. In fact, he was grimacing with the effort. "Rius dead and Lamech in his employ." He turned to his men. "Let him pass into his own land.


    "I will trust you in this, Gabriel. I pray that I do not do so in vain."


    "I understand," said William.


    "We go at once to Ascorn and check the shields he spoke of," said Dunmoore.


    Then the Paladins walked off. Dunmoore laughed the whole way, struggling to keep his composure. Many of the Paladins were able to avoid joining in. Some took Lamech off toward Antion.


    "In Calisha, Rius would have been crucified a long time ago," noted Felix.


    "Yes, well, no system is perfect," said Jehair.


    "Do not speak of such things," said William. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then he looked to see the banner of the Church of Elranor in a series of pavilions near the shrine. Many people were clustering by it from all over. William felt a sense of ease and wonder at that symbol. Of two hands reaching outward toward the sun as it rose.


    Though it had faded, the Sun Spirit had been worshipped as long as Elranor itself. Orson had popularized it, and now it stood as a symbol for all religions. For the High Priest of Elranor had authority over the faith itself and mediated disputes. He only hoped Rundas had not poisoned his mind against him.


    "Well, I suppose we can continue to the High Priest," said William. "No doubt we can speak to him about how to handle the plague. Perhaps we may be of service."


    And he began to make toward the shrine instead of the city. There were a number of buildings near it. First, a stockade filled with many animals, chickens, cows, and pigs, as well as doves. People were selling animals there, William presumed for sacrifices. Antion sacrificed animals as an act of faith. William did not understand the practice. Haldrenians stuck to the old ways of sacrifice by deed. Glory in combat and death, where the sacrifice was yourself or your enemy.


    Still, there was no shame in alternative practice. Antion sought to live more peacefully, and there was nothing wrong with that.


    "Do you think he will be able to help?" asked Jehair, faintly amused.


    "Of course," said William, irritated at the question. He had the feeling Jehair had some private joke at his expense. "He''s the High Priest of the Gods and of Elranor, God of Healing. And he is at present making a tour of this area."


    "I will leave you here for a time, William," said Jehair, sensing his unease. "Janice knows this area well, and I would like to see how the woodlands have fared. Will you allow it?"


    "Of course," said William, appreciating the effort. "Felix, Massacre, go with and ensure her safety. We have the less dangerous road."


    "Yes, sir," said Felix.


    And the three broke off.


    The three maidens came around him now, their staffs in hand. Jaina moved forward, adjusting her cloak. "Shall we, then?"


    "There is to be a sermon up there," said Grace. "You want to see it?"


    "Sermon?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Grace. "The priests sort of make a speech to the crowd that helps them with spiritual enlightenment.


    "Don''t you have those in your cathedrals?"


    "We don''t have cathedrals," said William. "Relationships with the gods are strictly personal." Still, it seems reasonable. The High Priest was the head of the church, of all churches in Antion. So it stood to reason that he would have the wisdom to impart.


    Otherwise, why would be invested with infallible authority over the texts?


    "...There is a plague house over there," said Jaina. "If you want to heal them."


    "What?" said William, looking to see a large building with two crimson-clad guards within. "How is that possible with so many priests here. The Paladins had a military expedition to get to; what could be taking them."


    "We could heal them," said Jaina.


    "The sermon is starting now," said Grace. "I want to hear it."


    "Someone could die while we are listening," noted Jaina.


    "The High Priest has left them there for a reason," said William. "He can''t possibly be unaware of them. However, I would not presume to intrude on an area under his authority. It may be that they have some curse beyond the greatest healers."


    "Perhaps we''ll find out," said Janice, with a tone of one who knows the answer.


    They went to the sermon, and it seemed like something out of a story. There was the shrine, and at the gates were the priests, clad in white and red. Below him were his assembled people, vast in number and clad in various clothes. There were merchants and ordinary men, and even a few slaves. They looked on with faith, with animals in their hands as above them the priests came forward.


    The priests wore red and gold and were inclined to be fat. They had jeweled necklaces and elaborate staffs. Most of them were not looking at the crowd at all but looking around and at eachother in boredom. Two actually exchanged coins as though settling some bet, but that was absurd. To one side, William saw a blonde woman dressed in simple white. A man dressed in gray was easy to move around with. They seemed to be speaking, and the man was scowling. So far as William could guess, the woman was trying to justify something.


    Then the High Priest came out of the temple, and he was not fat. He wore white and gold, and it was elaborate. Too elaborate, such as the amount of gold embroidery that it obscured him. William could only tell that he was about twenty or so and lean and tall, with neatly combed, blonde hair. Rundas was near him, and Joffrey as well, and William guessed he had fled Ascorn before William.


    "Presenting His Excellency, High Priest Coinfurth," said Rundas. "High Priest of the Gods, Chosen of Elranor, Supreme Overlord of the Church, Cirithil Magnar."


    This was ridiculous.


    The Kings of Harlenor did not feel the need to make this kind of entrance. And what was the good of all these titles? No, no, he was the head of faith, and that required certain formalities. And the priests all looked uncomfortable. Actually, they''d looked uncomfortable, to begin with.


    William wished he could believe it was a desire to pursue their duties.


    Cirithil came forward and raised a page as though it were a script. "People of Elranor, do not fear the plague, for all things are according to divine plan," he spoke in a bored tone. It was as though reading a script. Which he was. "The suffering now upon us is for the purposes of instruction. Continue to pray and give money to the church, and you will be saved.


    "If you have sinned, we will remove the taint of your sin for an agreed-upon amount. That''s all."


    And then they dispersed to cheering applause.


    Were these people stupid? No, of course not; they couldn''t be that stupid. Grace wasn''t stupid, and she was looking on in awe. They''d come out here for a religious revelation; the enthusiasm they felt was their reward. The High Priest was simply the channel by which they received it.


    But by the sneering laughter of some of the priests. They ripped off expensive garments and threw them at the blonde woman; they did not agree. At least some of them thought these people were really that stupid. No, no, they''d probably made speeches like this before and were eager to get it over with. William was eager to get this over with, and they were only human.


    Now they could move on.


    "That''s it?!" said Jaina. "A couple of bullet points rushed through in a bored tone is what they came a weeks travel to see?!"


    "He might have a reason for haste," said William, looking to where they were going. "There are many sick and injured to tend to here." The sentence left his lips as he saw the priests heading into a tall building with a woman outside it. She was wearing a white robe, but it did not seem like something she was used to.


    As though ushering them into heaven.


    It was a brothel, wasn''t it? Well, many great warriors of Antion used the brothels. Of course, they weren''t perfect and spiritual warfare was important too. Who was William to judge?


    "What is that building?" asked William, not even half believing his justifications.


    "That''s a brothel, William," said Janice with a smile. A smile infuriated William.


    "I know what it is," said William with a sigh.


    "Step back. Step back, all of you," said a man with a resemblance to Raynald. He was clad in the orange of House De Chevlon and bore the Calishan Honey Badger. Around him were many soldiers standing by. "You can''t take your animals into the temple for sanitation reasons. The plague may be carried inside."


    "It is our right to sacrifice to the Gods," said a man. "Who are you to stop us?"


    "Get back, peasant!" said the man, and he smashed him across the face hard. He fell back, bleeding horribly with his jaw out of place. "I am Alchive De Chevlon! And no one gets through!


    "The High Priest has initiated this as a means to control the plague. No one gets in or out. Sign your name here, and you can sell your animals at that market. They will give you money that can be used to purchase properly sanitized animals within the temple."


    William moved forward and quickly healed the man as he limped away. He then healed several other people as the discussion continued. His eyes found drawn to Janice, Grace, and Jaina over and over. And he began to suspect they had cast some kind of spell.


    "But I already bought an animal from a special market," said a woman. "See here?"


    "That''s the wrong brand," said Alchive. "Now buy one for real or get out."


    Obviously, the guard was going behind the High Priest''s back. Time to do something about this. But what?


    "I''m going," said one.


    "What?" said a woman. "Why?!"


    "Better to get fleeced and keep my soul," said the man.


    "Shouldn''t we do something?" asked Grace.


    "William?" asked Janice.


    "I''m trying to think," said Jaina.


    What would Father do in this situation?


    He''d just walk on as it was not his business. It would be unwise to challenge them on their doorstep. So what would Raynald or Tanith do? "I''m a Haldrenian.


    "You don''t want my solution."


    More laughter, and it maddened him. "Excuse me, Lord Alchives?"


    "Yes, what is it?" asked Alchives. He was almost an exact twin of Raynald, actually. Only without the scars or withered appearance. "Who are you?"


    "I am William," said William. "I am a student to your brother.


    "What is the plan for those plague victims over there."


    "They have been quarantined," said Alchive. "And will receive treatment when their families pay the Healer''s Guild. Now get out of my sight."


    "I would like permission to tend to them," said William. "I am an accomplished healer."


    "Tend to them?" said Alchives. "You ask me for permission to sabotage a legal business?"


    "How do you measure up to your own standards," asked Jaina. "By what authority does the High Priest bar passage to a shrine on the lands of Lady Atravain?" asked Janice.


    "This shrine is dedicated to Elranor," said Alchives. "Elranor is not limited in his authority, neither are we. Moreover, our purpose is to respond to the plague. Quarantine is one of the rights within his grace''s jurisdiction."


    William looked again to the plague victims, mouth opening, and he almost made for it. But he checked himself, praying they could be helped.


    "Yes, but the shrine was built by my Grandfather," said Grace. "When he was friends with House Rain. And I want to pray in it. Can I go through it?"


    Alchives looked at the now restless people around him. "So long as you do not carry animals, yes. But none of these scum around you. Nobility only."


    Grace turned back. "Well then, why don''t each of you pray and make your sacrifices here. Then you won''t have to enter the temple at all!"


    "You dare undermine the High Priest''s rights?!" said Alchives.


    "Why not?" asked Janice, eyes narrowing. "Turnabout is fair play. There''s no law against making sacrifices before a temple."


    "The money that is made from these sacrifices will pay for a new temple," said Alchives. "Contracts have already been sent out to stonemasons to be built at a place of the High Priest''s choosing. So you peasants will fulfill your purpose and sacrifice here."


    William stood up, realizing he''d been resting on one knee from the blow. His hand went to his sword, but Jaina caught it. A sense of her being wise and all-knowing went through him, and he did not know why. But it halted him.


    William had the impression that Cirithil would make different use of those profits.


    "I''m a daughter of Lady Atravain," said Janice. "Who holds authority here. It is my judgment that it is their decision how they use their animals.


    "Then it''s settled," said Grace. "Some of you must go out and gather wood and leaves to build pyres to burn the offerings on outside. Each of us shall enter at a given time, and when all have prayed, we''ll sacrifice them at once.


    "It shall be a communal sacrifice."


    "This is no ritual I have heard about!" said Alchives.


    "Unless you have another way these people can avoid being fleeced, it''s all they have," said Jaina. "Outside quarantine, so we can do as we like. Janice, can you take charge of gathering firewood.


    "Partake or watch as you will."


    Alchives stepped forward in a rage, hand going to his sword. But William drew his own and Jaherus her scythe.


    "Massacre," said William. "Make sure these men hurt no one. If they try, you can do as you like."


    "Bah," said Massacre, treading behind Alchives.


    "We will build a cairn and dedicate it to Elranor," said Janice. "Then it will be a temple."


    This idea was met with enthusiasm from the commoners and seething rage from Alchives. But he could not leave the gate and dared not fight Massacre. The guard was assigned to keep watch on the animals by Grace while everyone set about making their altar. William thought it worked out better this way. Everyone kept their money, and the extra effort made it more memorable.


    Obviously, they''d had bad luck with the priest of his generation.


    "You realize you have struck an ally of your house across the face," said William, drawing off his helm. "I am the son of Duke Vanion Gabriel."


    "I don''t care if you were trained by that withered armed, deformed abomination!" snarled Alchives. "He is a vicious, depraved animal, kin to wolves and devoid of courage or intellect. The little monster substitutes base cunning and animal bloodlust for both.


    "Why Argath ever vouched for him is beyond me!"


    William halted and saw those same empty eyes he''d seen in Joffrey. As if Alchives had been torn down to the foundations of who he was and had them marred. "It is a shame to see a great house sink so low. I see now why the Baroness Saphra was given the position you three declined."


    And he walked away. Alchives, meanwhile, was deadly silent.


    Now William saw why Raynald hated his brothers so much. He''d thought they''re turning on the Vampires to have been an act of virtue. But they were all utter beasts. Or two out of three anyway.


    "Is this a new problem?" asked William.


    "Not really," said Jaina sadly. "The closest you get to Antion, the less religious people are."


    "That''s worrying," said William, not becoming suspicious about the animals being sold. "I want to know about those animals. Jaina, let''s go."


    Moving up the slopes, William came to the structure. Virtually no one was at it, but a man was counting money with obvious glee. His hair was reddish, like the De Chevlons, but he lacked the scorn of the others. Then, feeling their eyes on him, he put it away apologetically. "Sorry, slow day.


    "The Lady''s ritual has cut my profits."


    "You don''t seem upset," said William.


    "I''m already a rich man," said the man, having the grace to seem a bit guilty. "This plan of His Grace has made me and many others very wealthy. The wife and I shall be taking our children to a new house.


    "Are you here to purchase animals for sacrifice?"


    "Actually, I want to know about the animals," said William. "Where did you get them?"


    "They come from the High Priest''s personal flocks. They are quite extensive," said the man.


    "And how are these flocks swelled to such numbers?" asked Jaina.


    "They are purchased," said the man. "Though many of them are bred. They''ve been growing over generations, and many are butchered to feed the poor." Well, that was nice. "Traditional, though I admit, the poor are a bit too numerous. These days with all the Sornian buyers coming into the market.


    "Begging your pardon milady."


    "Not at all," said Jaina. "My family is very distantly descended from Sorn. We have inherited a talent with wealth. But we are of Antion.


    "Who are your usual buyers?"


    "Recently?" asked the man.


    "Yes, recently?" said Jaina.


    "The High Priest has been making a tour to ease the suffering of these people," said the man. "In the process, flocks are sometimes purchased on the side. When you can bypass tolls, it mean you can actually use the King''s Road?


    "Can I interest you in an indulgence?" He brought up several slips of paper.


    William frowned. "I was given to understand that King Andoa phased indulgences out. Citing a meeting where Elranor personally requested it."


    "Yes, however, they have been recreated in response to a changing world," said the man. "I am certain his Grace has his reasons.


    "Actually, I shouldn''t be saying this, but funds have been disappearing at an alarming rate. A lot of unexpected expenses. New clothes, appointments to keep. Sometimes you have to give money to questionable sources to get anything done."


    "Do we get a cut?" asked Jaina.


    "What?" asked the man.


    "Do the nobility get a cut for all this?" asked Jaina.


    "Why would you ask that?" asked the man. "Surely the temple is administered purely by the priesthood, milady."


    "Because you are on our land," said Jain. "You are using merchant stalls that could be used for other purposes. You are cutting off access to holy sites we often built with our finances.


    "What is done here affects us.


    "Yet no word of this came to my Mother, Lady Atravain. We were not even informed of this, and there was a major meeting of nobility. Not one spoke of it."


    "Perhaps the bandits are worse than we thought," said the man.


    "But are we getting a cut?" asked Jaina. "Yes or no will do."


    The man halted. "No."


    "Then pack up your wares," said Jaina. "I may not have authority over holy ground, but this is not holy ground. Your presence here has already disturbed the prayers of my people.


    "Caskav is one of our vassals.


    "Take your profits, sell your remaining wares, and let us see no more of them."


    "Of course," said the man, looking unsteadily at Alchives. "I am certain the High Priest will understand your concerns. Perhaps you could see him in yonder br- building."


    William felt sympathy for him. He was just doing his job, but Jaina''s gaze seemed to be piercing him. Off he went, talking to servants and getting them to go out and find buyers. At the same time, the burnt offerings began on the new Cairne. Grace said prayers with great enthusiasm. William wondered if she should not have been a priestess.


    "There is no way there is a good reason for this," said Jaina. "I''m going to see the high priest."


    "I will go," said William. "A direct confrontation could be scandalous. I am an ignorant foreigner, so just hang back."


    "As you wish, Sir Knight," said Jaina with a smile. "You shall be my shield in this."


    William smiled and walked toward the confrontation.


    Even so, as he approached the brothel, he reflected he was not looking forward to this. Because in that brothel was a demon.

 Chapter 154 - Five: Devils in the Flesh

    As William neared the brothel, the stench of alcohol was in the air. Drunken laughing and carousing could be heard. Coming to an open window, he heard course laughter, and looking through the window, he was blinded by what he saw. At first, it seemed to be a radiance of sorts, and within were four beautiful goddesses.


    One was tall, lounging on a cushion, her lustrous brown hair in a ponytail falling around her. She wore a red outfit that bared shoulders and dipped far down below her breasts in a v. The movement drew attention to their size as she drank from two flagons. Her tongue licked her pouty lips clean of alcohol as she shifted in revelry.


    So this was the goddess Maius?


    William tried to look away but found he did not have anything to look at. His spirit was no longer under his control, and he found himself looking her up and down. Trying to divert the thoughts, William looked at her expression to devise her intent. Was this the Goddess Maius? Certainly, the way everything seemed to blur in the room beside her told him that much.


    The Goddess of Revelry was here? Why could he not look away from her?


    Yet she was not focused on him at all. She hadn''t the faintest in him but rather something far below.


    A little ways off, he saw another, Maius, equal in beauty yet also opposite, but she was clad in a white. It was a clinging blue Naminaen stress of dress with short, baggy sleeves. They narrowed at the end of toned arms. It was emblazoned with the symbols of many golden dragons upon it. Her muscular thighs held fishnet stockings. Her brown hair was tied into two hair buns on either side, but she was not drinking. Rather she was watching and writing notes.


    Then there was Imogen, playing solitaire over in the corner. And also a familiar figure, resembling Isriath from the picture. But her harp was to one side, and she was looking at Maius with a smile. He had a vague sense of beautiful blonde women from whom light shone, but he could not get at her. And last, of all, there was darkness to one side.


    They were not actually here, but they were transposed over women in this place. William could see Imogen. She seemed to be drinking and watching. What were they doing here, and why?


    Trying to find out what they could be looking for, he saw something he couldn''t make out in the blur of his eyes. Was it the world? Or a person? Or perhaps the souls of individuals? William tried to interpret it, but his head was spinning.


    What they were looking at dawned on him.


    Then there were the priests, Cirithil, and his cronies. All of them were very well-dressed and completely drunk. They seemed to be completely unaware of the goddesses mere feet away.


    What was going on here?


    "Ah, there''s nothing like a reward for some sacred work," said Cirithil, tossing the dice.


    They were leering at a variety of ordinary women who were keeping up appearances. The Goddesses were gone, and the women here were afraid but keeping up appearances.


    "Well, you are infallible, your grace," said Rundas. "We''ve made more money in the past few weeks than in years. I can''t believe these peasants will actually pay extra just to sacrifice to their fake god."


    "Well, I''m sure the faithful will always show their appreciation in new ways. Isn''t that right, girls," said Cirithil. "Roll the dice."


    "Aw, Coinfurth, snake eyes again, High Priest Cirithil!" said a man.


    "Well, I''m sure the snake will appreciate it!" said Cirith. "They''ve plenty of death to deal with as it is!"


    "Not at the rate the plague is taking these peasants," said Rundas. "Idiots actually think anyone cares about their animals. They actually got off on us reading the same script they had for everyone."


    "Well, our wallets care, Cirithil. They care a lot," said Joffrey. "Snake eyes." Everyone seemed to be agreeing and sucking up to Cirithil.


    The odd thing was that all of these were grown, men. Yet all of them seemed to become slowly childlike as the game went on. But not any kind of child that had ever existed. There was a sickening innocence to how they threw the dice. Not of one who did not know better but who had severed their ability to know better.


    William wondered if he only imagined it.


    Was that why the women had been there?


    They''d been playing a game together, but of what kind, William did not know. Who were the players? Certainly not the men around them. They were the coins being shuffled around. What would God take them?


    "Snake eyes again!" said Rundas.


    "Snake eyes!" said Cirithil.


    "Snake eyes!" said Joffrey, loving every moment of it. As though rolling the dice is their sole purpose of existence.


    They did not care about the loss in profits.


    Looking over, William saw Imogen. Had she been planted there, or was this coincidence? Had she been sent to tempt him in some way? By who?


    Did it even matter?


    "What is this a sign?" asked Cirithil, scoffing even as he posed the question. But there was a kind of humanity in his voice then.


    "Well, a member of House Gabriel has been wandering around like a witless cow in skull armor. Healing everyone from Ascorn to here," said Rundas. "Thinks that just because that worthless deformed mongrel trained him, he''s important!"


    "What an idiot," said Joffrey. "Wasting his time on those sheep. Does he really think cutting into our business makes him important!


    "He''s a garden snake!


    "Damn it, snake eyes again!" Laughing from all of them, but a seething rage was in William''s mind. A desire to murder everyone inside came to him, but he shoved it down.


    Could they not see him at the window?


    "High Priest... maybe this is a sign," said a woman, one just out of sight. "And perhaps it is not wise to tempt fate-"


    "Oh, shut you bitch," said Cirithil, sounding more human than ever. "We don''t keep you around for anything but your breasts and money, Ata. Now take off your clothes so we can see, Elranor commands."


    William walked to the door.


    "High Priest, this is outrageous!" said a man.


    "Oh really?" said Cirithil, practically spitting the words. And all his fellow priests leered as one in the speaker''s direction. "Well, if Elranor disapproves, Coalmarsh, let Elranor strike me down where I-"


    William brought up a leg and kicked the door. It shattered and broke off its hinges, which bent and marked the frame. The splintered were thrown forward as the fragments of the door broke on the matt. Within, the priests screamed like children and fled behind Cirithil. Cirithil was too dumbstruck to move. Coalmarsh, the man she''d been talking to, looked at Cirithil with murderous intent.


    "Oh Gods, I didn''t mean it!" said Cirithil. The exception was Ata, a blonde woman who was sitting to one side while reading from a holy text. And also a grim-faced priest looking at Cirithil in utter disgust and holding a cudgel. This was Coalmarsh, he guessed.


    Did he have to sit through this regularly?


    "You look worried, your grace," said William in disgust. "Have I caught you at a bad time?"


    Ata stepped up and fled out the door, and Coalmarsh stood up in disgust and walked out. Based on his gait, he had drunk nothing and looked to William. "I don''t suppose you''re here to murder him?"


    "No," said William.


    "Better luck next time, I suppose," said Coalmarsh.


    And he walked out.


    "Get out of here," said Cirithil, pointing to the door.


    Much older men were whimpering at his presence. William was almost tempted to go to the gaming table and turn it over. Then he looked at the woman at the door and realized it was their property. He''d shattered it just to make an entrance, and they looked at him with accusation.


    William had no time for this. "No, you will follow me.


    "Pay these women for the expense and leave them be." And drawing out what coins he had remaining, he gave them to them quickly. "You have work to do."


    "In my own good time," snarled Cirithil like a cornered animal.


    "The time is now or never," said William.


    "I am the High Priest!" said Cirithil. "I could damn you to hell with a thought!"


    "That is not in any holy text," said William. "And no, you can''t."


    "The holy texts can be altered by me at will," said Cirithil. "It is my right! My word is infallible and unquestionable!"


    William sighed. "High Priest Cirithil, the Kingdom of Antion is falling apart.


    "Plague is spreading across the land; rebellion is nigh. Satyr warbands have killed nobility. Lord Rius is dead, executed by foreigners for crimes against the people. There is an entire house of people dying of plague.


    "It would be well if you could at least come and look at them."


    "Well, then, why don''t you do something about it," said Cirithil. "Stop wasting my time and telling me to do your job for you, knight errant! Get out!"


    "You are a priest, invested with holy power by Elranor. All of you are," said William. "I won''t be here in a week, but each one of you could save hundreds. And those hundreds would never infect anyone. Your sermons could save souls."


    "The church is my property! Mine!" screamed Cirithil, sounding like a spoiled child but still human. "I have the legal right to use it or not use it as I see fit!


    "We bought our positions, and we can do what we like with them! Now get out and sing prayers to your sky daddy!? It''s all just a bunch of fake tricks anyway!"


    What was he talking? Elranor was not associated with the sky. That way Zeya''s domain.


    Where had all this terminology come from? It was obviously foreign.


    Some foreign influence or such?


    William tried to be patient. "Once the plague destroys Antion, it will devour you. Any one of you could be infected tomorrow." He paused and looked at the girls as he realized how dangerous their lives were. "Some of you might have been infected right now. So you have to quit this business, or you''ll surely be dead soon.


    "I''ve seen the plague out west. And there are plague victims quarantined right near here. Get out of here." A panic came over him. "Take your money and go anywhere else! Now!"


    The girls nodded in panic and hurried upstairs. Cirithil looked up. "Hey, I haven''t paid you yet! None of us have! Get back here, you sluts, or you''ll regret it!


    "You''ll never be able to pay to have dinner with me!"


    William stared. "If you have no regard for your nation, if you have no regard for the people, what about Elranor?"


    "What about him?" said Cirithil. "He''s a brutal, nonexistent sociopath who commits genocide and abuses women!" Then grabbing some money, he tried to throw it at a prostitute. William caught his hand and sighed. "You can''t touch me!


    "You can''t assault me! I''m the High Priest! I own you!"


    "No, you do not; I am not part of your religion, merely your faith, and Elranor owns that," said William.


    "Then I''ll send you to hell!" screamed Cirithil, drawing a knife in a drunken stupor and trying to stab him. Instead, it broke on William''s armor, and he sighed. The knife was cutlery.


    So this was the scheming mastermind who had backed Joffrey.


    William got his answer when Cirithil''s eyes changed.


    Stepping back, William could hardly look the man in the face. The sheer malice and hatred in his gaze were answered enough. It pained William to keep his gaze, and there was a vileness there he could hardly stand. And it was in the eyes of all the priests subtly. Their posture changed as he realized they had given their will over to this creature.


    But Cirithil had done it willingly. The other''s malice seemed to flow into them from him. It was only there a moment, and then the facade returned.


    What was this thing?


    The demon was deliberately trying to discredit the church. How had it gotten so many utterly depraved people in positions of influence?


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "Eating knives are not useful for combat. And how are you taking care of your property?" asked William, feeling as though he were talking to a six-year. Rather than someone nearly twice his age. Only Cirithil should know better. "What will there be left for you if this entire nation falls to pieces because you are not doing your job.


    "You are supposed to be guiding and helping the people through troubled times. Or failing that, praying for help. I admit my understanding of the tenets of the Antion branch of Elranor''s flock is limited. But I do not think the worship of Maius is part of."


    "Who?" said Cirithil. "You mean one of the whores?! I don''t worship them!


    "They worship me, the filthy bitches!"


    "Well, you seem to have more regard for them than your faith," said William in deadpan. The man was obviously drunk. Except, he didn''t seem it; his eyes were focused and intent as if examining William''s reactions. The other priests had an empty, soulless look, but Cirithil''s was alert.


    Was he trying to make the church look as disgraceful and loathsome as possible? Why? William could kill all of them right now? Was that the point?


    The demon that had possessed Joffrey.


    It was using Cirithil, adopting a mask of utter depravity and stupidity. And also to provoke William into murdering these men or taking some action. So even this was advancing the goal. If William killed these men, it would set off a worse chain reaction than anything. "If your god means nothing to you, what of it?


    "The people out there care. I care.


    "A great many nobles care. And this kind of display ill befits a man of your station. If this continues, there may well come a day, High Priest Cirithil, when your title can no longer protect you."


    "And when will that come?" said Joffrey. "When some farm girl becomes Heir of Kings, and House Korlac is something other than a joke? When the Heavens Eye is moved by a plagued Calishan, and Antion sends it to Baltoth?"


    This was the real him.


    Except it wasn''t.


    It was as if he''d sat down and thought of all the most contemptible things he could adopt. But why was Cirithil more alert than Rundas or Joffrey? All of these men were the same, actually. You could tell how they were responding to anything without bothering to ask.


    It was as if they were slowly merging together into a collective whole of malice and spite. But William had to try and pull them out of it.


    "The day may come," admitted William. "Stranger things have happened. And things said in jest can sometimes come true." He let go of Cirithil''s hand. "You have the opportunity here to become great. Even if you do not wish to use the power of Elranor, your money, and resources could save many. Do great charitable deeds with them, and provide funding to those who fight the plague. Become involved in politics.


    "Use your position, whatever it is, whether small or great, to make a small difference. With enough small differences, the world could be made infinitely better. Endure hardship today, and you may well look fondly on that hardship forevermore."


    "My life would be made better if you left," said Coinfurth. "As far as harlots go, I prefer something a bit more vulnerable." No one was ever really this contemptible in real life.


    Some of the priests did not laugh quite so loudly, for they saw William''s sword. "Have you no consideration for your own soul? You will not live forever, Cirithil.


    "If you want to have anything after you die beyond eternity of agony, you must perform service to a deity. Preferably the deity you are the High Priest to, but failing that, any deity. How do you intend to enter any heaven?


    "Do you think they will listen to tales of alcohol and rolling dice?"


    "Well, I hear Maius is into that kind of thing," said Joffrey.


    "And who the hell are you to talk!" said Rundas. "How dare you worship a god that allows infant sacrifice!" Rundas was not faking this; he was drunk and did not seem as advanced in the service of the demon.


    "...He doesn''t allow infant sacrifice," said William. Had these idiots even paid attention? "How do you measure up to your own standards anyway, Rundas?"


    "I am the High Priest!" shrieked Cirithil.


    Then snatching up a coin, he hurled it at William, and it bounced off his armor. The others soon began grabbing money and following suit. Even so, something in the air was changing. The demon was obviously being strained, its influence weakening.


    "Beware what you are doing, Cirithil. The Goddess of Revelry is not one to invoke lightly," said William, who had done his own research. "She is dangerous as well as joyful.


    "For all you know, she might be very annoyed with you for misusing her domain. Even as we speak, she could be planning retribution. Pray for Elranor''s protection and forgiveness, and she may let the slight pass. You have done no damage to him and much to yourself."


    "Oh, and I guess the virgin goodie two shoes know all about revelry," said Cirithil, laughing. More drunken laughter, and by now, the prostitutes were coming down with a variety of bags. They were packing their things. Obviously, they had done very well in their time. Yet they looked past him toward the temple. William doubted they were even aware of the demons. He guessed that his status as a Paladin was what made him able to perceive it.


    William stared at these sad shells of men and tried to come up with something to reach them. To spark a flame in the embers of what they were. Perhaps just appeal to their sense of hedonism.


    "Look...


    "Just leave this place. Whatever joy you could have had from it is spent. Walk beneath the sun and think of something other than your stomach.


    "If you want to serve the Goddess of Revelry, then think of how you may best do so?"


    "Our relationship is s a series of disconnected encounters," said Cirithil. "I don''t owe her anything-"


    "Not if you were the last man in Erian," said a prostitute. And she threw a tankard in his face and stalked past toward the temple. She was Maius no longer and was only an ordinary person as she did. "Find me a priest."


    And the others did the same and walked out. Cirithil almost seemed affected by this and gained a bit of lucidity. The alcohol dripped off him, but his eyes darkened. "You bitch!


    "Traitors! I''ll cut all your heads off and hang you for heresy! I am the High Priest!"


    "You didn''t even know her name five minutes ago," said William. It was almost admirable how dedicated he was to deface his own religion.


    Almost.


    "Wait, look, I know you''re not really here..." Cirithil halted. How could anyone be this detached and stupid? Even if he was drunk, this was shameful. "Damn it.


    "Well, you just scared off one of my dates, all of them. Come back! I paid you a fortune!"


    "Sir Gabriel, where can we find holy orders?" asked the prostitute.


    "The Temple might be a good start," said William. "You could also try Coalmarsh, he walked out very early, and I don''t think he drank anything."


    "Or you might try outside the temple. They are sacrificing animals to purify their sins under Grace Atravain."


    "Thank you," said another woman. "You''re a good sort."


    William waited until they were gone before turning to the priests, who looked to now have a hangover. They were waking up in the middle of a brothel that had only them in it and a lot of tapestries. "High Priest Cirithil, the prostitutes have left you to seek the gods.


    "Will you not at least ask why?"


    "Go to hell!" said Cirithil. The demon seemed to have receded somewhat in these men.


    They were drunken, depraved monsters who cared nothing for their responsibilities.


    And the rest of the priests turned up their noses. And slowly but surely, the light of humanity that had briefly been kindled vanished. The twisted remnant of who they had been retreated back into themselves and was subsumed. All that was left were soulless things.


    But William knew Elranor would have him try again. "Will none of you ask why? Will you not consider that some action you have taken was in error? Or unwise? Or that some part of your infallible will was perhaps misinterpreted?


    "You have a chance to heal the ills of the land?


    "If you wait until the day of reckoning, it will be too late. Just... just leave this place. Or failing that, just put down your scepter. Set it down and leave it so that it will no longer have any power over you. You no doubt can buy another, and there is no reason to keep it-"


    "We''re staying here!!" screamed Cirithil, voice pained with the yell.


    He probably didn''t even know where ''here'' was. The demon was winning out, not for lack of power but for lack of resistance.


    "And what of you priests?" asked William. "There are twelve of you. Will you not leave and do as you are ordained by the Gods? What pleasure remains in this place for you?"


    For a moment, they considered it. A few nearly moved, though Rundas stayed silent, and his gaze looked to the door.


    "If you leave, I''ll see you hang," said Cirithil, turning and pointing at them. His eyes were wild in terror. "I can do it.


    "One word from me, and I''ll watch you hang from the gallows without a trial. I''ve got friends."


    And instantly, they shut down. The mere possibility of having to take a risk for salvation was too much. They were cowards to the end.


    Wiliam sighed. "Is such a man your friend?


    "If he will hang you for walking in the sunlight, what loyalty and protection can you expect from him? Would it not be better to seek political allies? Others who would not betray you? Not me, obviously, but anyone.


    "Anywhere other than this decadent and loathsome place."


    But not one of them moved, and they dared not gaze at him. Then, slowly but surely, the demon was returning to their eyes.


    Each of them had become so corrupted by vice that they would not even depart a brothel to please the gods. So William kneeled down and picked up the coins they''d thrown at his feet. He actually really needed the money; they''d had a lot more expenses than expected.


    Perhaps he should say something?


    No.


    Whatever horror had possessed these men now had them in its grip perfectly. And William wondered if it was the vilest thing he had ever seen. Melchious was much more terrifying and dangerous, but he was creative. Arraxia was an amusing conversation and lived up to her word. Baltoth crucified people, but he had many virtues and was consistent. Tavish was a slaving thief, but he did help some people simultaneously. Then there was Lamech, who was brave and inventive?


    Yes, he was.


    This was the dark lord of their era. A drunken, cowardly whoremonger who knew nothing and thought he knew everything. A man with no power who thought he was all-powerful. Worst of all, he seemed to have willingly and knowingly become this.


    And for what?


    He''d already had the luxury and could have whatever he wanted? What was the price he''d been offered?


    Should he kill him?


    What was the point?


    Cirithil was doing a very good job of killing himself. In a few decades, he''d drink himself into oblivion if he wasn''t kicked out of every brothel in the country. Assuming he wasn''t executed first.


    "A Blackguard is getting into heaven ahead of you, Cirithil," said William.


    "You''d better hope we never meet in Antion!" said Cirithil, voice a croak as his face twisted and spasmed.


    William put the coins into his pack, wishing he had a purse. "I assure you.


    "We won''t."


    And he walked back, feeling bitter and sad. The sacrifices were being made, and perhaps it would help. Behind him, Cirithil and his people rushed out. They ran into their carriages to be taken away to whatever hell would take them. Though at this point, one could hardly give them a worse one than what they had done already.


    "Are the sacrifices nearly done?" asked William of Grace.


    "Yes, they are," said Grace. "Janice has all the firewood and is about to light it. But some people insist on going to the temple. We''ve been buying their animals at a reasonable price."


    "How?" asked William.


    "Well, I convinced the merchant who was buying them to work for me," said Grace. "Now he is buying them on behalf for a reasonable price. Not a perfect solution, but still better."


    William shook his head. There was one more thing that had to be done. "Not good enough." And he turned to the guard. "Alchives, I will pray as you allow."


    And walking forward up the steps, he entered that same shrine. But the floor was of marble, and it was beautiful, with stained-glass windows that caught the light. Intricate signs were everywhere.


    Yet the smell took away from it.


    There were pens of animals on the temple floor, fouling it by their nature. Finely dressed merchants hawked at people trying to pray. Money was counted on the floor and on tables. Alcohol was being drunk and even sold!


    "Get your cows! Get your cows!" shouted someone at him.


    "Chickens over here!" said another, not to be outdone.


    "Doves!" said another. "Doves for peace!"


    Enough was enough. They might as well have tried to fleece Elranor in his own home. Yet William mastered himself. William Gabriel moved forward to the altar and tried to prey. Yet the noise was everywhere, and he could not focus.


    "You need a sacrifice, Sir Knight, to get what you want," said a man. "Try one of my doves."


    "No, a chicken would be smiled on more," said another.


    Finally, William had enough. No one here could pray, he could tell by their distraction, and no one could sacrifice. There was not a single part of this shrine to the gods untrained. Gripping one of the tables, he threw it down, scattering it over the floor. As he did, it shattered, and everyone in the temple began to grope and grab coins. Merchants screamed at the loss of their precious money, and the cows moaned. Turning over another, he shoved a person back as they tried to stop him.


    "Out!" roared William, throwing open the pavilion where the cows were. "All of you out of this sacred place! Out!" And snatching up a rope from the pen, he lashed it at them, driving them out of doors. And when it was cleared, he threw aside the rope to look at the filthy straw covered in muck.


    There was a low snarling in the air from Diabolus.


    William broke the cage doors for the doves, and they flew out in great numbers. They went out the doors as William tore open the cow enclosure. They lumbered out as a hateful presence seemed to manifest and tear at his mind. Then he tore open the chicken enclosure and let them all flee outward.


    From there, he turned to the altar and walked to the altar. There he kneeled and began to pray. The stink was still present, but the noise was gone.


    Coming out into the light, he saw Grace, Janice, and Jaina staring at him. Alchives looked on in rage but looked back to Massacre.


    "What did you do?!" said Janice.


    "Forced the merchants out of the temple," said William. "Bring me to the sick and injured." Then he looked at the people. "Cleanse this place. Clean the temple and get rid of the merchant stands."


    Dead silence.


    "A miracle!" said Ata. "A miracle!


    "The plague house has been healed by our sacrifices! Lady Grace has saved us!"


    William sighed despondantly and shook her head.


    "Do you know how much money you have lost these merchants?!" said Alchives, and they were gathering behind. "Is this how House Gabriel treats their allies?" S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Did you ever treat me as such?" asked William. "Did you ever treat Raynald as such? Did you ever treat Elranor as such?! Are you standing on the old alliances when you treated the gods with contempt a moment ago?"


    "I am performing a legitimate service for the church," said Alchives. "And you are destroying property?!"


    "You are turning the domain of Elranor into a den of thieves!" roared William. "The church has nothing to do with religion! Just who the hell do you people think you are?!"


    His scream echoed and echoed throughout the land, and William realized he''d been heard.


    Alchives looked at a loss for words. "I''ll remember this."


    "I don''t care if you do," said William. "Either the church is sacred or nothing is sacred. If you''re concerned about these merchants, you could help them retrieve their animals."


    "I will," said Alchives. "You men, we''re going to gather those up. There''s no point in letting those people be bankrupted for this brat."


    "Some of you help them," said Grace. "We don''t want anyone to go bankrupt over this."


    And he moved off, and the lost cows were gathered up. Alchives was careful to check which one belonged to which. He was quite meticulous, and the merchants seemed to appreciate it. William did not actually mind. Now that the beasts were out of the temple and it was being cleaned of their filth. He did not begrudge them prosperity.


    Yet they shot him dark glances.


    Well, he was not afraid of them in this or any company.


    Later they met up with Jaherus, Felix, and Massacre at the border into House Gabriel. Felix was leaning against a tree, hair falling around his shoulders. Jaina, Grace, and Janice seemed to recite some rituals together. "How did things go."


    "Well, I exorcised the High Priest from the temple," said William sadly. "Purified the unholy influence of the church. Meanwhile, Janice, Jaina Grace served Elranor by abandoning his sacred traditions. I am sick of Antion."


    "Try working here for forty years," said Jehair in bitter amusement.


    "You''ve been here that long?" asked Felix.


    "No, longer," said Jehair. "But elves'' minds go in cycles; we gradually reincarnate in one body, so we shift to take on a new persona. It''s why a romance between mortals and us can work."


    "Ah, of course," said William.


    The conversation fell by the wayside as they continued.


    Later on down the road, they were met by a large band of thugs sent by the High Priest to arrest them. Massacre ate them all.


    Was it too much to ask for a bit of respect?


    There the further he went, the more a mass hanging seemed appropriate. It was a very bleak thought which put him in an even worse mood. Because most of those priests were likely nobles, who bought their position.


    And they probably had friends and influence.


    So, his problems were only just starting.

 Chapter 155 - Six: A Welcome Break

    More healing villages. Several, in fact.


    Yet another miserable, tedious job he had to do on top of everything else. This sort of thing had happened before in Antion. Harlenorians had done worse to people who they believed had committed heresy. Even so, William found the faith of these people weak indeed.


    But he healed them anyway.


    There was no great religious revelation or thank yous of any kind. Nobody expected him to do the work, and nobody thought it was important.


    At last, the time came to say goodbye to their beautiful companions.


    "Well," said Janice. "Mother will be pleased to have cut the church out of some power. And now we have a free hand to actually worship without the priests getting in the way."


    "Civil unrest shouldn''t be nearly as much of a problem with the plague dealt with," said Jaina. "Thank you, William."


    "Of course, we couldn''t have done it without your chimera friend," said Grace, scratching Massacre behind the ears. "I''d love to see you again."


    "I''m probably going to go on a mission to Blackfear soon," said Jaina. "Mother wants to examine things down there. We might cross paths."


    "I''ll look forward to it," said William. He enjoyed having all three of the beautiful sisters present.


    Jaina in particular.


    For a moment, he found himself stunned by their combined beauty.


    Then he turned and walked away, finding a smile on his face.


    As if some divine revelation or power had been broken.


    William didn''t get it, and he didn''t particularly care. So long as they improved their lives, who was he to pass judgment.


    "Why did that prostitute once answer to the name Maius?" asked Felix.


    "Well," said Jehair. "It has become the custom for prostitutes in Antion to answer to the name of foreign goddesses. It keeps things impersonal, and I believe it was used to wedge the door open.


    "The only good reason a priest would have to go to a brothel would be an exorcism of some sort."


    "I''m sure that there are other reasons, but I take your point," said William, feeling disgusted now. There went his good mood. "So much for the glorious Realm of the Gods."


    "Not all gods subscribe to your ideal of holiness," said Jehair.


    "Elranor is the only god I have," said William.


    And so the tedious, boring dream continued, healing and driving out false priests. He even dealt with a few plague demons. William more and more began to feel as though he were someone else. A sort of self-righteous spirit that wished only to be rewarded. He didn''t know where such thoughts came from, so he attributed them to foreign influence.


    Could it be the influence of the Urishia? He''d heard rumors talking about him.


    Everything around him was foreign now. A different world, a different place he was never meant to come to. Or was never meant to come here for. Baltoth had probably been observing this from a dark tower and laughing the whole time.


    "Things have been getting better," said Felix suddenly.


    "Things have been getting better!" said William, incredulous. "Are you mad?! You pick now to start having a positive outlook on life?!"


    "I''m obligated to have something positive to say at some point," said Felix.


    "You don''t have a contract!" said William. "You could have quit our service anytime you wanted! And how are things getting better?"


    "Your name is in the ascent," said Felix. "Your political opposition is destroyed or eating itself alive. You have dismantled the decadent and useless systems of religion. All while still keeping the High Priest alive.


    "This ensures that he will discredit the old system long after you''ve taken power. That will buy the new system, set up by Atravain, time to flourish.


    "The warrior''s traditions of Harlenor are being resurrected in Antion. These skirmishes will prevent potential threats and prepare you for war. Harlenor is saved; it rises from the ashes of Rius burning as a phoenix of ancient Namina."


    "When we stand before a heavenly city with our enemies far behind and hope," said William. "Then I will share in that joy." He looked to Jehair, who was adjusting her hair. It seemed a slightly different hue.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "No, Massacre, we aren''t going to hurt anyone," said William. "I''ve had all I can take of that. We''re going to Brisgald."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "No more adventures," said William. "I want a nice visit with my extended family without any cities getting burned down. Is that so much to ask?"


    "You''d be surprised," laughed Felix.


    "Yes, it is an uncommonly usual occurrence," said Jehair. "Though less so than before, more''s the pity. I have never liked cities."


    William knew this statement was completely true. So why say it if not to emphasize the fact? He began to think she''d been much more involved in all this than before. And so they rounded the bend and saw Brisgald.


    It loomed over them like a dark and terrible tower worthy of any dark lord. The walls were as high as Father had described them. On the walls were many dark-clad warriors bearing arrows and swords. The skulls of the ornaments were all around, while the towers raised like a claw reaching to heaven.


    It would have been very menacing. But it was a bright, sunny day with no mist, and a farmer was bringing a shipment of hay to market. The buildings were all well made, and the people were well fed. Uncle had done his work well, though the hanging body of a murderer from the noose was disturbing.


    A guard stood by, and a very old sign was put up;


    "Hung on conviction of patricide," said the sign.


    So all was really as it should be. The underbrush had been well cut back from the road, so travelers need not fear ambush. And the area around the fortress was well maintained. As they walked, he saw many rows of apple trees, also guarded with a high fence around them. The guards were well-disciplined, for they kept a clear eye.


    And one man could be seen pruning such an apple tree. He had a long, blonde beard, and he wore a cap on his head. His garments were practical and brown, and he was strong limbed with two guards around him. At the base of the tree was leaning a huge war hammer.


    Then he looked up. "William?"


    William blinked. "Uncle Arthur?" He drew off his helm and let his hair fall around him. "How did you know?"


    At once, Arthur stepped down and nodded to a man nearby to take up his word. Then he moved forward and opened the gate. "The armor was described by Rusara''s letter. Although I must say, you arrived a bit later than I''d hoped. And you''re a bit taller.


    "What kept you?"


    "That is a story I can''t explain in one conversation," said William. "So I will just say ''Antion.''"


    Arthur laughed merrily and embraced him. William halted, shocked at the feeling of his uncle''s arms around him. It felt... good. Father never had this kind of physical affection with William.


    "Well, that is the usual problem," said Arthur. "I suspected trouble when Varsus arrived without any trouble at all. I''m afraid the boy is a bit too practical for his own good.


    "He needs to learn to be more of a people person. Fortunately, Reginald and Ham went with him, or they were going to meet Ham."


    "Many I have met have the opposite fault," said William. He''d heard about Ham Hawkthorne and didn''t understand what Varsus saw in him. The three had struck up a friendship in an inn and went on several quests together in the day.


    That was how Auga had joined them. Varsus had found her on one such quest.


    Arthur nodded. "Yes, Lord Rius was never one to oppose another, even when he ought to. I heard of what happened to him. He was in precisely the wrong job for his type, a port like Ascorn needs a hand of steel.


    "They should have given the position to House Korlac long ago. But I suppose the border with Sorn has always been more trouble. And trade has increased a great deal since your Father took Artarq. So perhaps Rius was simply out of his element."


    "We''ll never know now," said William. "This is Jehair."


    "We have met," said Arthur. "How have you been leading him?"


    "He wanted to go by all the worst paths," said Jehair. "Everyone would have preferred to take an easy route here. But he ended up going to virtually every village and losing a lot of money."


    "Everyone except me," said Arthur. "I have never tolerated the behavior that happened out there. Either among commoners or nobility.


    "A ruler ought to be stern about these things. Vanion tries to work with everyone, but there comes the point where you have to lay down the law or lose everything. That''s what happened with Rius. And this must be Felix, the invaluable companion, and friend."


    "Felix is a trusted companion, yes," said William. "Please do not put him in an inconvenient position."


    Arthur nodded. "Of course. Why don''t we dine at my castle, and we can discuss all this at length."


    They had not gotten far toward the gate when it opened. Into view came a brown-haired woman with freckles. She had a long sword at her side and was slim with no curves, a rare quality among Harlenorians. Coming forward, she looked out east, hardly noticing them as they approached.


    "Auga, Auga is that you?" asked William. "''You haven''t changed a bit.'' It seemed the only thing to say."


    "It''s natural William," said Auga. "Your skill with a blade had come to full flower. It''s good to see you."


    "You as well, Auga," said William.


    "And who are your companions?" asked Auga, rubbing her eyes. "I know Jehair, but the others... I can''t see. Is anyone coming down the road?"


    "They already did, Auga," said Arthur.


    "Ah, yes, right," said Auga. "I saw them earlier, but my sense of time was wrong. I thought today was yesterday. Who is your friend?"


    "This is Felix; he came into my employ after our last meeting, Uncle," said William. "He''s been a trusted friend through the worst of times. With us is Massacre, a friend and representative of Typhos."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "I''d heard you were constructing a temple to her," said Auga, turning to walk back.


    William walked after her.


    "Bah," said Massacre, urging him forward.


    "It is more of a dual temple, in honesty," said William, remembering Auga had no sense of etiquette. "It was originally to the Dreaming Goddess in recognition of her helping me. But I used an old temple to Typhos and refurbished it. Since Massacre is also a friend, I thought it best to let it stand for both."


    "A temple to two gods?" said Auga, picking up a book and reading it. "What if they fight?"


    "I imagine segregating the congregations might be useful," said William. "It did wonders for Haldren." Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Haldren is old school," said Auga.


    "That''s not entirely a bad thing, Auga," said Arthur.


    "Last of all, there is Jehair, a servant of the Flower Maiden," said William. "She seems to have already met everyone, however."


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "We have met. Briefly," said Jehair.


    "I don''t care about her," said Auga, flipping the book. "Not relevant."


    William looked to Jehair apologetically. Auga always had been too forward for her own good. Then again, who would be foolish enough to call her on it.


    "Well, whatever the case, you are welcome with us," said Arthur. "I''m sure Vorn will be glad to hear from you."


    "Is Varsus here?" asked William.


    "You missed him," said Auga. "He''s already gotten ahead of you to the Tournament of Kings. That alongside Reginald De Chevlon."


    "I would have gone, but I''d have had an unfair advantage," said Arthur wistfully. "To say nothing of Auga''s advantages."


    "Well, I''ll be sure to give them your regards," said William. "Have you been well, Uncle?"


    "Well, my injuries pain me, but I''ve had much good work to distract from it," said Arthur, looking about the courtyard. William looked with him and saw before him that the courtyard was busy. Many shipments were being moved into the granary. "Gwendoven is very well also. How is my rascal of a brother?"


    "Looking more the part of a Sorcerer King by the day," said William.


    "Well, that is how he would have liked it," said Arthur. "Not the best swordmaster, but good with a spear and his hands. And he took no pleasure in either."


    "To tell you the truth, Father has been odd lately," said William sadly. "After the Khasmir Campaign, he''s spent a lot of time in his study. He''s giving his seal when he isn''t meeting with officials or dining with Mother and me. Yet there isn''t nearly enough things in need of his approval.


    "He''s given me many more responsibilities. Yet something seems to be drawing all his attention. It''s like he''s fighting a battle, but the enemy can''t be seen."


    "We all fight battles like that, lad," said Arthur, looking out the gate. Jehair was in it. "They''re the most dangerous because we don''t always know they are happening. But I''m sure he''ll have time once all this settles down. About your friend, uh, Tanith..."


    "That''s what has dragged me down here," said William.


    "Ah," said Arthur. Tanith had a few personality flaws.


    "Negotiations and reparations," said Auga, nearly finished with her book.


    "Something like that," said William, not knowing what to do with himself. "Is anyone in need of healing?"


    "My priests are already tending to them," said Arthur.


    Auga finished her book, shut it, and stood up. "Wielding a sword is an interesting means of hunting, I will say.


    "Where did you get that scar?" Apparently, it wasn''t in his book. Which it was.


    William paused. "Well, there''s a long story behind that."


    "Let''s tell it over a meal if you have not eaten," said Arthur. "Vorn is out organizing the grain shipments to Antion with Isabel. An important task, if inglorious. I''m afraid the boy enjoys it a little too much for his own good." Vorn was much older than William.


    "That would be nice," said William.


    It felt heavenly to get new clothes. The old, dirtied rags from the road were shed alongside his armor. He was able to wash himself in a tub instead of a cloth and rinse out her hair. By the time he was done, he felt like a new man.


    Uncle gave him new white garment to wear and wore them gladly. Massacre went off to hunt, understanding by now the rules of hunting on a Lord''s landing. Arthur told her which animals were off-limits, and she listened in a bored tone before loping off.


    And at last, William saw Gwendoven.


    "William," said Gwendover. "I''ve heard a great deal about you lately."


    "Yes," said William. "I was looking forward to coming to Brisgald someday. The people here seem well-taken care of."


    "Well, we had our work cut out for us," said Arthur. "Borinius ran the place into the ground. Everyone else in that conspiracy got off with hardly any trouble. But the people here were starving.


    "The first rule of running any country is that people need to eat. If people are starving, they cannot fight, they cannot think. They can''t solve their own problems. And worst of all, they will do anything to stop starving. So if your people are starving, you have failed as a ruler."


    William suddenly felt very bleak as he considered this. A sense of depression he could not explain hit him hard. And he suddenly felt as if he were not among friends but around vicious enemies. "...I suppose some would say that the mark of a good ruler is that they would be starving."


    "What do you mean?" asked Arthur.


    William felt short of breath. "I merely put myself in the mind of an evil man. An evil man who only cared about keeping his power intact might regard starvation not as a failure but as an asset. All you would need to do is make everyone blame each other for the starvation instead of you.


    "Or you could keep a particular group of people well-fed and use their desperation."


    "Well, that is very much what Borinius was doing," said Arthur. "Though I don''t think there exists a man evil enough to do that directly. For such a system to work. You would need to be fully aware of what was being done and its consequence.


    "More than that, you need access to an extensive Empire that you could keep in control. It would require constant paranoia, and your lieutenants would turn on you."


    "Not if you executed them first," said Auga. "Just kill them constantly and shift them out. You could make it work if you are supplanting people and leave none alive to seek vengeance."


    "Again," said Arthur sadly.


    "This always happens," said Gwendoven.


    "What does?" asked William.


    "No matter what we do," said Gwendoven. "Whenever we have guests over, the conversation always turns grim. It''s a quirk of the place like Brisgald resents the way we took it."


    "We didn''t take it, Gwen," said Arthur. "It was given into our hands as a reward for exemplary service. But unfortunately, Borinius discredited himself by base treason. We were granted it instead.


    "Brisgald likes to remind us of the fact.


    "Personally, I like it. It helps me remember the darker side of the nobility and keep myself from falling into it. I wouldn''t be nearly as good a ruler without these conversations." Another tinge of resentment. "Although Brisgald resents that too."


    Laughter, and it was dispelled.


    "Am I late," said Vorn as he came in. "I just came in from organizing the grain shipments. They''ve all been sent out for the year. Though the year hasn''t been nearly as good as usual.


    "Can''t imagine why."


    Vorn has slicked-back black hair and slight stubble. His eyes were gentle, but his wrists were slim, and he didn''t look comfortable with the blade he wore. It was a formality he kept with him out of obligation. William remembered he''d always liked Vorn, but he''d never looked up to him like Varsus or Raynald.


    He didn''t know why. Grain shipments were vital. Regular supplies had to be made to Antion and other cities, or they would starve. Andoa''s grain dole was essential to feeding the people without work.


    "No, you''re not late Vorn," said Arthur. "Although perhaps you should put a bit more focus on military aspects. Things seem to be going to a dark place right now.


    "Where is Isabel?"


    "I''ll keep it in mind, Dad," said Vorn. "She''s still in the Hand of Anoa, setting things up."


    That term again?


    Kiyora used it to refer to his Father; it seemed like a quirk of off-worlders. The term had a lack of respect in it, and William refused to ever use it. His Father was to be respected and obeyed. "Vorn, it has been some time."


    Vorn looked at him and then took off his long coat and hung it on a rack. Surely the servants could handle that. "William, William, is that you?


    "I didn''t recognize you with that scar and such? How have you been."


    He offered a hand, and William took it before Vorn sat down across from him, too informal. But Arthur had no problem with it, and William must respect his host. "Things have been going... passably.


    "We managed to stalemate the Calishans at Savior''s Run. And we stopped Melchious cold in Khasmir. Seathorius is ruled by Arraxia and Kiyora, who are... intelligent and creative, and both preferable to Melchious. Arraxia, however, can''t be relied on for saving insofar as it amuses her, and Kiyora takes no one''s side.


    "She could be on our opponent''s side if she viewed it as the right thing to do."


    "Isn''t that a good thing," said Vorn.


    "Not for us," said William. "There is a righteous cause out there with our name on it. If we submit to everyone with a grievance against us, the wicked will inherits the earth."


    "Fair enough," said Vorn with a laugh. "How''s Gel Carn?"


    "At present, it is unoccupied," said William. "Mother followed me to Artarq, and her main lieutenant went with her. So we have no enemies, and Edmund Telus has guaranteed assistance.


    "The only person who could invade would be King Gavin."


    "Which wouldn''t happen since you work for him," said Vorn. "Things have been going pretty out here. Dad and Varsus have dealt with the bandits out here. They''ve all gone off to Blackfear or moved north toward Atravain''s territory."


    Arthur considered this. "No one has fought a Blackguard in some time, William. I did it ten years ago. They are not very common because their souls are usually claimed by demons if they win. To hand one over to Dunmoore is almost a sign of fealty."


    "It wasn''t intended as such," said William. "I just wanted him locked away and interrogated. He was deep in the councils of whoever was running all this."


    Arthur looked to Gwendoven, then back to William. Vorn looked uncomfortable. William halted.


    "You mean, Dunmoore is part of it?" asked William, not sure what to think of it.


    "Not part so much as oversight," said Arthu. "He was tasked to reign in the Thieves Guild Council. However, it was a ceremonial position. If House Korlac and the other nobility could reign them in, there would be no council to begin with.


    "But the nobility made a collective decision or many decisions." Jehair shifted, and Arthur looked to her then back. "To not punish crime. Because nobles have economic privileges, many used them for personal gain. Lord John Korlac launched many investigations, but they were shut down.


    "And once the nobles were all cheating, everyone else started cheating to compete. Even the honest nobles like House Marn had to do it to survive."


    "Where were we during this?" asked William.


    "Many different places," said Arthur. "Escor, Gel Carn, the satyrs in the Black Marsh were always a threat and Hadleim was in the flower of his career. Raynald did some raiding of Calishan shores with Rusara as well. All this didn''t take days, it took years of consistent effort and it was nasty and long. Even after your Father got back from Themious it went on for a bit.


    "And it''s still going on. It''s all too complicated to explain in a single sitting, like most things."


    "How?" asked William.


    Arthur paused. "Well, I invited John Korlac to dinner, and we decided we would use any necessary means to restore order.


    "And we did. Although the rate of hangings has decreased a great deal. The gallows out there are important. They remind me of what I have done, and they remind the populace of what they ought not to do."


    "It''s nasty," said Vorn. "And it happened."


    "Second time," said Auga, who was reading again. "You arrived late."


    "It seemed to have worked better for us than Kafka''s solution," said William. "Atravain has been having serious problems. Though Luke Atravain has gone into action, and Dunmoore is present. So things may work out there."


    "At least he didn''t let nature take its course," said Vorn. He was almost looking to Jehair, though she did not mark it. "Like Rius, I mean."


    It was obvious, really.


    "So, to make a long story short," said Arthur. "The thieves have far too much influence, and Dunmoore might be under their influence. Though I dare say, the witnesses will ensure his cooperation.


    "Now, why don''t we speak of what you''ve been up to, William."


    And William did explain.


    It was a very long story by now. William had gotten a bit tired of telling it, but he went through it as efficiently as possible. Vorn was interested in the women more than William liked. But he asked many questions about forges and such. And how many weapons a given place could produce. Or how much cattle a given area had.


    William tried to answer and often had to rely on Felix for an answer. Father had taught him all this, but it had slipped his mind.


    Arthur took an interest in battles, the strategies, and the swordplay. Gwendoven seemed more interested in politics and the rise of Arraxia. He also told how Vanion had consolidated control. Vorn asked for specific troop numbers and this William did remember, as well as a lot about logistics.


    Auga looked bored through all of it.


    "Surely this was in my books," said William.


    Silence.


    "Hasn''t anyone read my books," said William. "I sent all of you a copy."


    "Well, I gather a lot of people in Antion are reading them," said Arthur. "And a lot of people in Ascorn. And a good many other places, now that reading has become so common, and the printing press is in full operation. But uh...


    "No, I haven''t found the time."


    "We''ve got time now," said Vorn.


    So William had to go through the entire story. The tale of the battle with the Dark Dreamer and Kiyora''s world was interesting to Arthur. Apparently, he had been off-world and to several other places. But they were all high towers of steel with smoke and gaudy lights, and he''d never wanted to go back.


    "It''s a kind of pleasure house," said Arthur. "Members of the Demoration have been trying to rope the nobility into their lifestyle. So I was invited with several others.


    "But the elites of the Demoration don''t seem to do anything other than drink and steal."


    "They''ve got some really nice systems," said Vorn. "They can move things over long distances very quickly. Of course, those machines don''t work at all in this world or worlds like it.


    "Those operate on a different set of principles. But recent events have let them make experimental crossings into our world."


    "Could they be behind the thieves?" asked William.


    Arthur halted. "Well, I don''t doubt some people from the Demoration are involved in it. But from what I understand, it is a very poorly organized world. Or series of worlds, information is limited.


    "But the High Priest Cirithil enjoyed it and gave positions of influence in the church. However, Vorn was given direction in life by his time there and trade systems. That''s one of the reasons they are so friendly with our enemies.


    "Ultimately, they are simply people. Like us, they have evildoers, heroes, and demons; they just take a different form. And I won''t pass judgment on the whole place just because a few of them did something to wrong me.


    "Now, I believe we must get to your adventures here."


    And William explained those too.


    This was more recent and of much more interest than the others. His battle with Lamech was of particular interest to everyone. And the accounts of his battle of wits with Tavish Kern and the others were well-appreciated. On the other hand, throwing the priests out of the temple was something met with indifference.


    "Don''t you care?" asked William. "We''ve probably just bankrupted the church."


    "The church has solid gold statues all over the temple," said Vorn. "They never use it for anything. The High Priest bought his position after killing his Father before he could be disowned. Then he embezzled everything he could."


    "He murdered his Father?" asked William in horror. Patricide? Would Cirithil have really stooped that low?


    "Vorn, that is a scandalous accusation," said Arthur.


    "Nobody proved anything," admitted Vorn with a shrug. "But his Father was a man of the gods, and a friend of High Priest Alonsus. Cirithil was a spineless good for nothing from the start. There were rumors he was going to be disinherited when Magnar died suddenly.


    "So did a lot of other people who might have stopped him. I went with him to Kadan; he spent the whole time whoring and gambling. Didn''t give a damn about the transportation or how they built those towers. It was all gaudy lights.


    "And after he got the position, he whored out the church. Took bribes like crazy and went to Demos a lot. And a lot of women started coming in from there, taking the names of certain goddesses. Using buildings which nobody could tell how they were funded. If you have bankrupted him, it''s no more than he deserves."


    "For my part, I am a Haldrenian by birth," said Arthur. "I adhere to the old ways."


    "So this Arraxia," said Vorn. "Is she your rival?"


    "I wouldn''t classify us as rivals," said William. "More unwanted acquaintances that try to kill one another. Who work together now and then."


    "Then does that make Lamech a rival?" asked Vorn.


    "Surely not," said Gwendoven.


    "No," said William, crossing his arms and looking away. "He is a murderer and a criminal.


    Arthur sighed in good humor, straightening his beard. "Well, I suppose something has to go wrong for our world to exist. In another world, House Gabriel would be depraved usurpers. They were plotting the overthrow of the good King I pretend to be."


    Why had he never felt this way with Father?


    It was nice.

 Chapter 156 - Seven: The True Princess

    The game was only starting in the next room, where Arkan''s men were playing cards with prostitutes. They drank beer from metal cans from offworld, laughed, and smoked.


    All of this was in direct violation of Father''s orders. So Father was going to kill all of these men before the day was out. Soldiers from Duke Letan and the Paladins of Lord Dunmoore had come in while they drank. These were veterans of the Khasmir campaign. He''d ordered all guards to report to him for duty, and some among them had.


    The rest were here, drinking themselves into a stupor and making themselves vulnerable. When the attack came, there would be no time to react.


    Ansara only prayed that none of the courtesans would be hurt. They didn''t deserve to die because of these politics.


    The disruption caused by House Atravain was exactly what they had been waiting for.


    Now they were starting to gather strength to secure the borders and really work at things. And knocking them out of complacency had damaged the Thieves Guild more than any loss of money could. Arrests of the worst offenders had been made, and Peter Bailey had become a heroic martyr. A man dying to save Antion.


    Some spoke of giving him sainthood.


    Luke Atravain and his friends were likewise hailed as heroes. All to distract from the fact that foreigners were running roughshod over them.


    Well, Ansara was not going to let the crisis go to waste.


    And if she started a fight here on her own, Father could dismiss the action as covering for his stupid daughter. They hadn''t talked about this, but she''d learned of their growing power and seen all the alcohol sent in.


    Thus her ''friendship'' with Spinal.


    The dream faded.


    "I really hate that woman," said Ansara.


    "Who?" asked Spinal. "Ansara is living in a dream world, but she''s not evil.


    "I mean my Mother. She walked out on Father the second she realized he wasn''t going to let her run everything. She assumed that he was a doormat and weak because he didn''t speak much and was generally useful. The bitch thought that she''d be able to be Queen of Antion.


    "But when Father proved to have authority she abandoned us." Ansara halted. "Why are we doing this now?"


    "Arkan has left," said Spinal. "He''s gone off for a business meeting with Tavish. In Castle Blackfear. Tavish is cutting a deal with House Gabriel, and Rius is dead." Oh good, Rius was dead.


    Now they could finally replace him with someone halfway decent.


    "What about Lamech?" asked Ansara, thinking about him. "He was the demonic observer on the Thieves Council. Where is he?"


    "In prison," said Spinal in amusement. "Dunmoore went rogue and threw him there. The two don''t like one another." An understatement of the century.


    "So he''s on our side," said Ansara.


    "Lamech killed off most of his Bretusian contacts," said Spinal. "The only ones left are Suran and Gavkin, and both of those are out of favor."


    "So, what is Lamech doing here?" asked Ansara.


    "Gabriel beat him in single combat for the Atravain sisters," said Spinal. "I guess they decided he''d outlived his usefulnes. They gave her to Dunmoore as a peace offering. Dunmoore brought him here, and I was able to get Lamech to the dungeons without anyone knowing.


    "As of this moment, your Father can move completely unchecked. And so can you. But we can''t hold Lamech. The second Arkan gets back, he will spring him or have him killed. He can''t let you keep someone who knows this much about him. So that means you either have to kill now or turn him loose in exchange for information."


    "I know that beer came from the Demoration," said Ansara. "Only they produce those cans. So it came from one of their backers. So how do they fit into this?"


    "The Demoration has been trying to get influence by moving people into Antion. Mostly through Bretus. They put them in positions that do not have any innate connection to local politics. But they do everything by proxy using people they have in their pocket.


    "Their main representative is a woman named Chun Xi. Sort of a minor Naminaen Goddess, her nation is dependent on them for survival. But she has no official rank and is here for her own reasons. But if they need something done, Chun Xi takes care of it using her connections.


    "Cirithil is one of those connections. He started all those brothels with Demoration money funneled through Xan Corp. It''s a Demoration company pretending to be a regional operation on the world of Kadan."


    "Can they trust Chun Xi?" asked Ansara.


    "They can''t trust anyone," said Spinal. "But they don''t have to. They have no skin in the game.


    "Harlenorian politics is about personal relationships and violence. If you are an important person in Harlenor, you are responsible. Important people in the Demoration are all about avoiding responsibility.


    "There isn''t a single Demoration citizen down on this world. They won''t come here until they are certain they can do it with personal legality in their own place. Everything is a proxy of a proxy."


    "Which we''ll need to lure them here to kill them," said Ansara.


    "One thing at a time, kid," said Spinal with a smile. "We have to get information from Lamech, then set him loose. And you have to release him."


    "Why?" asked Ansara.


    "Because Lamech is one of Arkan''s buddies," said Spinal. "One of the higherups.


    "If he is killed, then Arkan will take it as a direct attack. He can''t let you start executing people on his level, or he might be next. Kill Lamech, and he''ll have all of your murder in self-defense and then cover it up.


    "You don''t have to power to fight Arkan directly right now. You aren''t ready.


    "Now, your Father could release him. But if he did, then it would be a major show of weakness. If you, his stupid and naive daughter, did it while getting some information, Arkan would laugh it off. Everyone will be angry at you, but Bor won''t look bad.


    "Bor is discredited, but he is not discredited. We need Arkan to think you''re still wearing a collar so you can savage him later."


    "The guards in the dungeons are under Arkan''s control," said Ansara. "Or at least not mine."


    "Which is why I''m going to help you," said Spinal. "I need you as a front, and you need me as muscle."


    "Good," said Ansara. "Today the thieves, tomorrow the Demoration."


    Spinal paused. "You realize that directly hitting the Demoration could be a bad idea. If you lose them a lot of money on purpose or kill off their CEOs, they will try to wipe you out. So a direct invasion might not be an option, but that hate losing money."


    "I don''t care," said Ansara. "Whatever this Demoration is, it has tried to control my nation. My Grandfather sleeps alone in a gilded prison, unable to walk the streets he paved. My Father is disregarded as a boring man in a tedious job because he cannot leave this place. I cannot visit either or spend any real time with them because of this vicious foreigner.


    "They have entered my home, appointed themselves the Supreme Lords of my country. And now they treat me as a spoiled brat because I dare to be unhappy with their behavior.


    "These invaders must be taught a harsh lesson in the ways of Urishia Hospitality."


    Urishia Hospitality did not exist.


    The Clan had long operated from the shadows and never lived in any one place for long. If you accepted the hospitality of an Urishia, they had control of your house. And the Demoration had little understanding of how to use that control.


    Spinal smiled for the first time, pleased she had read up on it. It wasn''t exactly a nice smile, you wouldn''t want to see it in a dark ally. "Perfect."


    The journey to the dungeon took them by several abandoned and crumbling stairs. Going down a flight, they came to a door, and at it was a man in leather with a spear. Men could be heard playing dice further on.


    "Hold where you are, Princess," said the guard. "This place is off-limits."


    "By whose authority?" asked Spinal.


    "Lamech," said the guard. "Who else?"


    "He is a prisoner," said Ansara. "And no orders were given that he be given back his authority. He killed two paladins and attacked a scion of House Gabriel.


    "Open this door."


    "I don''t obey your instructions, you stupid brat," said the guard. "You''re family is out of power. Arkan has this place run now, and you don''t have authority. So just go back to pretending you know what you''re doing, you pathetic royal puppet.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "Lamech is running this place from his jail cell."


    Spinal''s sword lashed out and slashed his throat with one movement. The blood-spattered from the wound in spurts. The man gurgled as he fell to the ground, and Nel grabbed his arm and drove a blade between his armpit into his heart.


    Taking the key from the guard, he unlocked the door.


    Inside, Ansara saw several guards lounging about. They stood up in shock. Lamech''s armor was propped up on the wall, with his sword leaning there as well. It had reappeared there as though by magic. "What the..." They saw the body behind them.


    "That man defied royal authority," said Spinal. "Out, now."


    They looked and then filed out the door. So long as Ansara was judged toothless, they''d felt willing to look the other way. Now that she could kill and have support, they were not in a hurry to defy her. Criminals were a cowardly lot.


    As the two moved past, Spinal slashed them across the throat in two quick strikes. Two more stabs finished them, and Ansara stared. "Why was that necessary?"


    "The truce is off," said Spinal. "These men would have alerted people. Leaving them alive will see more coming down here."


    Ansara found Lamech''s cell and saw him sitting at the far end without a table, looking no less impressive. It was as though he were resting, but his glowing yellow eyes were wide open. And he was writing in a series of books with his quill. Somehow, he had gotten his armor and sword back. As though it were tied to him by power.


    "Spinal," said Ansara. "I need a sword." Spinal gave her the dead guard''s sword. Then he raised the blade he''d used. "It''s important to me. It belonged to my Father."


    Ansara took it, supposing it was understandable. They would not be able to see one another much after this was over. The door was almost opened.


    "Good luck," said Spinal.


    Ansara considered things. "Spinal, get your men and get rid of the guards to Lamech and Arkan. Give them one warning and order them out of the palace in my name. If they don''t do it, kill them and say it is responding to an attempted coup by Lamech.


    "I want everyone violating my Father''s directives in this palace dead. Then track down the people they got their business from. I want Father to have that information."


    "As you wish," said Spinal.


    The door opened, and Ansara walked in to find Lamech still writing. "How did you subvert those men?"


    "Arkan has long made preparations in case he has to stay the night in a cell," said Lamech, writing a last sentence. "All of the prison guards work for him. Various individuals were wronged by royal orders. Bitter and rebellious kinds.


    "But, he could not prepare for me being imprisoned. Since they know I work for him, they won''t let you do anything to me. However, you can simply say these men worked for me.


    "Now that they are dead, they cannot counteract you."


    "If Arkan thought it was out of their character, he might know," said Ansara.


    "He might suspect," said Lamech, finishing and putting down the book. "But he suspects a great deal. From his own angle, it would be far more likely that I planned this. Perhaps in conspiracy with Spinal?


    "Think of me as a kind of infernal middleman. And their books are for you."


    Ansara had no intention of asking just yet. Or going near him, and she tried to control her racing heart. "I''m told William caught you in your own trap."


    "He did," said Lamech. "I wouldn''t call him a rival, but he has graduated beyond mere irritation. I will enjoy killing him as a stepping stone to Dunmoore."


    "That is your own affair," said Ansara. "But you can''t do it if you''re locked up."


    "Are you going to release me?" asked Lamech.


    "Lord Dunmoore wants you hung before Arkan gets back," said Ansara. "But he will defer to royal judgment. So my Father cannot release you without losing any credibility. But I don''t have any credibility.


    "But I think I have a better use for you, and I think you want to cause misery and horror for your fellows."


    "...Go on," said Lamech.


    "I need names and evidence," said Ansara. "Write down everything you know about every criminal operation, and I may release you."


    "They''re already done," said Lamech.


    Ansara looked down in surprise. He''d started selling out his companions before he got the offer. He could have walked out of here at any time. "Why?"


    "I have no love for my family," said Lamech. "The wheat has been grown. Everything is in place for the reaping."


    "Good," said Ansara. "You will go to Castle Blackfear and hunt undead."


    "And how will you compel me to do this?" asked Lamech.


    "You have little choice," said Ansara. "Your goal lies in Harlenor. To the east is the Sea of Power. South is House Korlac, who are immensely efficient and will hang you in a heartbeat. You can''t go back because Dunmoore will be hunting you.


    "Your only other option is Seathorius, where you will be caught between all your enemies. And with you will be satyrs and allies of House Gabriel. The King''s Road is well patrolled, and while you could slaughter the patrols, you''d draw a lot of attention. Blackfear, however, is dangerous and infested by vampires. So no one will care if you begin hunting people there.


    "And since Arkan is there, it may allow you to murder him. If revenge is what you are after. I''m going to leave the cell open.


    "You can do what you want. Just remember that if you harm any innocents on your way out, you''ll be dead before you ever get there."


    Stepping forward, she picked up the books, conscious that Lamech could kill her with one hand. Ansara backed out of the room slowly, then shut the door. Looking around, she couldn''t see how he could have gotten the books. The guards wouldn''t have had any. Then she saw the black man had broken the mortar on one wall.


    "You had them hidden in the wall," said Ansara. "But why this cell?"


    "They are in every cell," said Lamech. "Arkan is a thief. And there is no honor among thieves."


    Ansara backed out of the cell as quickly as she could. Then she looked down the hall to see Lamech''s armor lying there and his sword as well. "I''m going to keep these.


    "Your armor is down that hall, as is your sword. Leave Antion now. If you stay, I''ll hang you. I have more than enough reason.


    "And if even a single name is a lie, and I will find out, you''ll have it worse than a hanging."


    "You''re taking this very well," said Lamech as he stood up.


    "House Gabriel is bringing order," said Anara. "What I need is chaos. Then, you can sew that chaos. No innocent deaths, or this alliance is over."


    Then she sprinted away in terror, stepping over the bodies. She rushed through the door and slammed it shut. Gasping to breathe, she put down the books and grabbed the key from the guard''s belt. Locking it shut, she doubted it would stop Lamech. So she threw aside the sword and keys, picked up the books, and ran.


    Ansara rushed out of the dungeons and up into the old wing of the palace. Gasping for breath, she realized how terrified she had been. Stumbling on, she reflected they could have kept this crumbling mortar maintained. At least, they could if it weren''t for the officials who stole everything.


    But now, she had what she needed.


    So she raced off, and behind her, the door was kicked off its hinges in splinters. She ran blindly for a time and eventually came to Father''s old office.


    It was still well-furnished, and the bookcases were practically spilling. He''d read all of them a hundred times when he was young. In the old days, she''d lain on the floor reading while he read above. But she only came here very occasionally.


    How old was Lamech?


    It didn''t matter. Prince Bor had kept this place maintained or one of the servants. And sitting down at the desk, she saw an open book. It was a history of crime and punishment in Antion. And to convict nobles, you needed, by precedent, at least four credible witnesses. Either that or incriminating documents by their own hands.


    One of the conditions of the Thieves Guild set up was that they had to keep a permenant record. Ansara had no idea if they followed the guides. But she had read the books. And quickly opened the desk that had long since been cleaned out. If a servant cleaned this place, they would not check the desk.


    It would be suicide. Father would know.


    So, Ansara opened the desk and piled the books into the empty case. Then, taking another, she read it. Lamech had a beautiful hand of writing, flowery and yet cruel. And reading through it, it was like a story. A terrible story of murder, deceit, and brutality, not the sort anyone would want to read.


    He seemed to have been chronicling the murders and atrocities of the underground. The worst ones happened despite Arkan, and it seemed that Arkan removed the worst actors. Even so, the atrocities never stopped, and Lamech had personally been a part of many of them.


    The account detailed how he smothered an old woman to death to take the money she had stolen from him. Next, he''d cut the throat of a thief who tried to steal a piece of bread from a street. Then he''d left him to bleed out. Arkan was his adopted Father.


    Seriously?


    They had never demonstrated any difference in their relationship from anyone else. It was a purely political arrangement. But to what end? Lamech seemed to have been very brutal enforced for Arkan. He ruined men with expert finesse. He exposed their darkest secrets and destroyed their fortunes. From there, their families were made destitute.


    All of them had done something to deserve it; Lamech always had a reason. These two men were poisoned because they broke a deal. It was horrifying and yet, in a terrible way, beautiful. She spent hours reading those dark and horrible tomes. She was watching the lives of sinners consumed one by one.


    Including High Priest Cirithil''s Father. He was minor nobility of House Magnar, a distant cousin to Lord Caskav.


    Not expecting any inheritance, Cirithil had opted to have his Father murdered. Then the will was changed. Money that would have gone to the church went instead to buying himself. Yet the money listed here, meticulously chronicled, could not have been enough. So Cirithil was getting his money from somewhere else.


    Hawkthorne would be the normal place to look, but he had no interest in the church. It didn''t make a profit. Korlac hated Cirithil with a passion. House Gabriel''s altercation proved there was no involvement. Even if William hadn''t been around for the arrangement, he would surely have been given him as an ally. And Vanion would not have had the money for that until after he got Artarq. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And by all accounts, his spending had been used to improve the colony. Nobody had that kind of money to burn, especially on someone as useless as Cirithil. Vanion picked subordinates he could rely on and destroyed them. He was using Elranor as a tool for his own power. No, it was not him.


    Atravain?


    No, Kafka would have been High Priest if he hadn''t been so insane. So clearly, there was no love lost there. Could Cirithil be involved in criminal activity? Looking back through the book, Ansara noted that she recognized a few names. A priest who had spoken out against corruption in the church was killed by Lamech. It had been for undercutting the authority of the healers guild. Ansara had only heard that he had been murdered.


    Cirithil had then used that death to justify handing control over to the Healer''s Guild. Even as he invested in secret on the side into it with fortunes from investments in prostitution. He''d also put immense finances into the malas trade. After all, all semblance of performing his duties had faded. Could Lamech be his agent in all this?


    No, Lamech was an agent of evil. Not an agent of Cirithil.


    But Lamech''s masters might well benefit from the destruction of Elranor''s faith. Ansara had never exactly been religious, but she was disgusted by Cirithil''s actions. Perhaps foreign demonic powers had rewarded him for disgracing his religion. Looking on, she began to pick out a thread.


    It looked like Lamech had always had a good reason to help Cirithil without meeting with him. There was no record of payment, actually. As if he wanted to propel him to a high place.


    Many of these people were rich commoners. Lamech was deliberately destroying the commoners who might damage the noble class. Others were taken as slaves and thrown into prison. Tavish''s operations were thus a kind of safety valve. To what end?


    All of them had done an evil deed of some sort and directly crossed Lamech''s interests. Yet each one had suffered a grisly fate; you could hardly help but feel sorry for them. And there was a merchant named Lilas, who seemed to always be a buyer or seller without being involved. Ansara remembered he worked as a financier.


    The Demoration, perhaps? There were mentions of several agents and contacts. But they were middlemen from other worlds. Bretus and Namina. She didn''t know enough about them to guess. Spinal was not reliable.


    Lamech wrote of someone named Chun Xi, who apparently operated a large number of brothels. Apparently, he had killed off several Bretusian merchants on her behalf. Though she insisted on clean kills. She was from Namina, yes? The Empire that claimed Ancient Namina had only been a colony.


    Was it cover for some sort of takeover?


    Then again, Namina had fallen on very hard times. Chun Xi might be trying to limit Bretus'' influence by murder. She''d done several of the deeds herself. Ansara was neither for nor against this. Bretus has a brutal reputation, and mercenaries had come through some of the portals to seek work.


    Both were part of a Demoration world but were not of the Demoration.


    What was the goal here? Lamech didn''t seem to be driving at anything but advancing interests at random by murder. He seemed to be more or less loyal to Tavish, whom he spoke of with respect. Yet that was likely just pragmatism since he needed a benefactor.


    Or was the goal so simple that no one could see it? The total destruction of Antion as a nation. All of these actions could potentially destabilize the county. Alienating Bretus could lead to an invasion later. Helping foreign influence weakened their ability to project power. Propping up Cirithil discredited the faith.


    Evil for its own sake.


    He really had been doing it all out of simple spite.


    Putting the book away, Ansara realized she was alone in a room with only one exit. The window was too high up to escape by. In a panic, she raced out of the door and returned to her room. Finding a servant girl sweeping there, Ansara tapped her on the shoulder.


    "Yes?" said the girl. "Princess Ansara?"


    "I want you to go out and start a rumor that John Korlac has been called to take control of Antion," said Ansara. "Get the others to do it too. I want to hear people talking about it from the balconies.


    "Go at once."


    "Yes, milady," said the girl.


    And she raced off, pausing only to put the broom away. Father would notice the disruption to the servants. And if the rumor was spread, it might disrupt whatever business Arkan had. It would also throw him off the scent.


    What now?


    Well, the books were useless on their own. Even so, they confirmed much of what Spinal had said. Lamech made a note of Xan Corp at several points as a supplier, yet he seemed to regard them as demonic puppets. A person like Lamech would know.


    But which demon?


    But, if she could be another witness with as much knowledge, she could use that. It could be enough to force Tavish and Arkan to give them their people, then House Korlac could clean up this place.


    Obviously, a lot of those responsible would get off, but Ansara was responsible in a way too.


    But what if someone found those books? She might well have been. So she kneeled in her room and prayed. "Elranor, I don''t like talking to you. But if those books are found, Antion is going to be owned by Thieves Forever.


    "This is your holy city.


    "Start acting like it. And don''t let anyone get those books until the time is right."


    It was all she could think to say. They''d been left high and dry while the knights were off having the time of their lives. It was taken for granted that Prince Bor was a nobody. But nobody had seen him hunched over a desk, measuring everything. He, at least, had never taken bribes.


    He, at least, had never socialized with the slime of this city.


    House Gabriel had mocked him by expressing public sentiment in William''s books. The casual dismissal of him as an explanation to a Goddess. It had riled Ansara, and yet it had driven her into action at last. She''d vowed then that she would not let it end there, with her as a mere bargaining chip.


    Perhaps she should thank William.


    Then again, if things didn''t go well, she and her Father would soon be dead. So what she owed him was up for debate. She only hoped she could fix this without having to sell her birthright as a reward to a Chosen One.


    It was time for her to begin practicing with her sword.


    The next encounter with Lamech would not be so easy.


    So how did she handle this? Well, William always recorded his adventures; Jaina had made that clear. So he''d compile it when he got back home. If she wrote all this down and sent an account to him, they could use it to force the nobles into line. If even a fraction of what had been done here got out, it would discredit their entire government.


    Yet the mere presence of it would be valuable.


    Vanion knew not to release such a thing, but he already had the information. By sending her account, it could help salvage her own reputation in case it leaks. And it might give Father some bargaining power.


    It wasn''t as if anyone in House Gabriel was ruthless and mad enough to release the documentation. Rusara would never do it, and Raynald always deferred to Vanion''s wishes. But, even without that, his advancement required the good graces of House De Chevlon.


    Only House De Chevlon hated him. His own generation had mistreated him, and his success had bought him only jealousy. Saphra De Chevlon might have been Baroness but was a puppet, only in charge of slaves. She and Raynald would make a logical alliance. A political marriage between William and her would be smart.


    No, Raynald would never go behind Vanion''s back like that. They were completely loyal to one another; everyone agreed on that. And there was no good reason to do it since there were other means to revenge.


    But if Raynald were to end up in charge of Artarq, and he were given reason to believe House Gabriel might be destroyed before they got back...


    Raynald would release the books as a parting shot.


    If he thought House Gabriel had been destroyed or even betrayed while off in some other business, he''d do it. But Vanion was conservative, and William quite competent. So what sequence of events could warrant the entire house leaving the colony?


    Nothing Ansara could think of.


    And she had to take the gamble. So she wrote it all down and hoped no one would be stupid enough to corner the rattlesnake. Who was she fooling? They would.


    By the end of the day, the palace guard was purged. First, Prince Bor rotated in prepared replacements. Then he cited fear that his daughter might come to harm.


    The cage was broken.


    Now came the plans for revenge.

 Chapter 157 - Eight: Tef Lock

    It had been a wonderful time with his uncle, reflected William. Well worth the wait.


    They had passed beyond the twin hills of Anoa''s Stand. On them, Anoa had held his position for a week against two hosts of satyrs and goblins. That had been before he broke with Alchara in ancient days. Their names were Ictorath and Benar. On Benar in the northwest of Antion, he had smashed one host. Then, moving south to Ictaroth, he defeated the others in the south. The mossy rises had been defended almost completely by humans.


    If memory served, Lord Feanor had come to encircle the second host. For this, he received all the credit. Anoa had sacked his castle later in fulfillment of the vendetta. William had not studied Lord Feanor much; however, records were short from that era. Perhaps he could research it later.


    Each one had a large village near it, fortified with a stone wall. Many smithies and fletchers could be found within that place. Some monasteries held sacred relics and were tended to by priests who did their job. And a strong garrison of men as well.


    "Are you sure about setting out so soon?" asked Gwendoven.


    "I''m afraid the situation to the south won''t wait, Aunt Gwendoven," said William. "With everything going on, I think I''d better take my sword to Blackfear. I had a feeling that innocent people were going to be attacked." But what could he do on his own?


    "Well, that is the usual place that the darkness comes in," noted Arthur. "So it is a wise move."


    "Why is that again?" asked Vorn. "That Blackfear is the usual source of darkness. I think I missed that lecture."


    "Anoa gave it to the forces of evil after his conquest was complete," said Arthur. "They thought it was a tribute, but the real reason was containment.


    "By giving it over to the forces of wickedness, he forced them to put much of their power into it. The Wood Elves keep a watch within the forests at the eastern slopes of the Black Mountain.


    "Jehair is quite familiar with them."


    "I am," said Jehair, who had been walking behind with Felix and Massacre. "But King Faras has no love for humans. He lived in the time of Anoa the Bright, Sylvar, Alasa, and many others. And he survived with only a few of his people to repopulate that realm.


    "I do not think you will be well-received."


    "Anoa''s wars, Jehair, predate Anoa and outlive him greatly," said Arthur. "The man has been blamed and credited for every misdeed and heroic victory humanity had. Neither viewpoint is wholly just.


    "The same can be said for Sylvar."


    "Who was?" asked William, who had not heard of her.


    "His chief nemesis in the early days of his reign," said Arthur. "Or, over several different reincarnations, depending on who you believe.


    "Part of a trio of elven sisters who ruled over this area. Alasa, Sylvar, and Twilight, all of which have become common names."


    Silence reigned.


    "What are you going to do about events in Ascorn?" asked William.


    "Quite simple," said Arthur. "I shall send him a letter explaining that the supply train has been disrupted by satyr raids. This is despite our victory. As a result, it will be difficult to send any further shipments to him directly by road. We aren''t able to send the same amount of supplies.


    "Once that happens, he''ll have no choice but to disperse the army. It should also help against famine to have men working fields again."


    "What about the Babarassians?" asked Vorn, late to listen.


    "We have no shortage of our work warriors, only ships," said Arthur. "Dunmoore can''t bring more ships with him. Having an army is no good if you can''t get where you need to go.


    "Rius contacted his friends from other ports, and Tanith is an accomplished raider. Adding a few thousand paladins will only make things more complicated."


    "Some don''t need a boat, Father," said Auga.


    "That may be so, Auga," said Arthur. "Do as you believe is best.


    "But shed no blood; you do not have to. Be precise and give them no opportunity to respond. But first, we are near a very special ridge.


    "Look over there, William. Do you see a shining light?"


    William turned and saw a ridge. Dawn was breaking over it, though he had hardly noticed it was night. The light was shining slowly over it, and his sphere vanished. Then, scaling upwards, William saw Felix coming up beside him.


    The slope was steep. "...Yes. I can see it."


    "Antion lies that way," said Arthur. "You can get a good view of it just beyond that ridge."


    William made his way up, then slipped beneath the moon''s light and landed hard in the mud. The wet squelching galled him, and he pulled himself out. Standing up in disgust, he heard laughter and walked upwards to spite it. Shaking himself off.


    "Well, I''m sure it''ll all be worth it in the end," said Felix, reading from some formal script.


    Why was he so amused?


    Suddenly, every bit of rage and pent-up frustrations gushed out. "What is wrong with you lately, Felix?!


    "How could it possibly be worth it?! We''ve been trudging through muck and dirt for weeks, trying to patch this place up! Finally, Tavish has gotten off, and Cirithil is counting his money while using a succubus as a pillow!


    "And we haven''t actually fixed anything! By the time we return this way, the plague will have returned. And it''s probably already in the city! So sooner or later we''ll have to go there! To say nothing of the fact that the Paladin Order has only just now been able to do their job!"


    "Well, my role is your shadow," said Felix with a smile. "I feel obligated to act as your foil."


    "You might as well not bother," said William, nearing the cliff''s edge. "One nice conversation with family does not change that this place is falling to bits. There is no possibility that all of this misery could be-"


    And then he reached the top.


    Even as he did, the light of the newly rising rose over the land and washed the city of Antion in a golden light. And struck by the beauty of it, William found himself speechless. For now, he saw a golden city untouched by the plague and horrors around it. It existed, transcendent, and beyond the reach of the mere physical stone.


    It manifested in a place of well-carved and ordered stone, with broad gates and high walls. And yet the many-storied houses where laundry hung could not compare to it. And as the light grew ever brighter, William realized that he had always known that city. And his hand reached out to grasp it as though it were before him.


    Yet his fingers sifted through nothing but golden light, and he wondered if he felt a hand on it.


    But, as his gaze turned back, he saw a beacon of good in a terrible world. His Uncle, and Gwendoven and Vorn. And there were others too. Far beyond him, he saw one beacon after another, some small, some great. Yet each flared with a light, and though the darkness sought to extinguish each one, it never fully went out. And lights were being conjured in the darkness, even now, faster than they could be snuffed.


    All throughout the world, he saw the peoples of the world struggling as one against it in their own way. Until his gaze turned to another light in the company that flared for only a moment. Though it was stronger than others. Beautiful though it was, it had led others into darkness. It had warmed them without enlightening them. His gaze turned to Seathorius, and he beheld a tall fortress, and in it was Arraxia.


    And hers was darkness like no other.


    In Blackfear. It stood before him like a marred, horrific counterpoint, a blackened hell on earth. Gazing upon it was pain and the periodic castles that rose around. They were akin to needles driving into heaven''s flesh. The dead hills sucked the warmth from the light of Antion, even as he flowed forth.


    That was where he must go.


    William struggled to find the words as he walked back down. "...It''s beautiful."


    "Yes, it is," said Arthur.


    "That is your first glimpse of the Golden City," said Jehair as a mere formality. "Remember it."


    She had been down this way many times and gotten sick of it.


    "I will," said William.


    Arthur nodded.


    And they walked on, and healed the sick and injured wherever they went.


    "In my studies in Qor''Danas, I read much," said Jehair. "There was a time when Anoa and Orson were both great servants of Alchara and the elves."


    "I had never heard that Anoa ever served Alchara in any life," said William.


    "He was, at one time, a servant to her and a friend to many of the great elven heroes," said Jehair. "A lifelong friend, serving them loyally until his death."


    "And how did he go to this from the nemesis of all elven kind?" asked Felix, giving William a warning look.


    "I do not know," said Jehair, seeming now unstable. "The change seems utterly inexplicable, based on the records." But it passed.


    "Perhaps I should look at those records at some point," said William, wanting to steady her.


    "Such a choice may well be of use someday," said Jehair.


    They journeyed on together through many fertile and similarly ordered lands. Jehair said nothing more of it, and William did not press her. Arthur seemed to make a point of observing the gallows when he walked by them. William wondered why.


    "Why do you fixate on the gallows?" asked William.


    "Because they are the dark side of my rule," said Arthur, looking as a corpse was taken down. "How do I have the right to focus only on the good? I have done such a thing as this? And yet, it is necessary.


    "Crime cannot be tolerated. Those thieves who see him will take heed and steer clear."


    "Might just go undercover," said Auga, reading another book. Still needs to be William''s.


    "Better undercover than acting openly," said Arthur. "If they hide from the law, it means they fear it.


    "We''ll rest here tonight. Gwendoven and I have not been here, and we must speak with the merchants." So they went toward a provincial town with many merchants doing business. Unfortunately, there were also many men playing dice, much to William''s displeasure. However, as soon as they saw Arthur, they packed it up and ran off.


    All except for Cirithil and his fellows. They looked around in confusion. Then he saw Arthur sprinting off into the nearest brothel. William was about to go after him, but Arthur took him by the shoulder. "Don''t mind them, William.


    "Be truthful and righteous in your dealings. The affairs of men who want to gamble are their own. And the world''s oldest profession will not go away simply because you put a law against it. Those places do not mistreat the women inside, thanks to invoking Maius, Chun Xi, and Isriath. They have formed a kind of triumvirate.


    "Not to my taste, but it is better that the women do it under their protection than under the alternatives. You should focus on setting an example that others might follow."


    "Father has always said that," said William, inwardly fuming. He wished it was Cirithil and the priests on those gallows.


    "I''ve never even heard of this Chun Xi," said William.


    "An odd deity," said Arthur. "Apparently disliked in the place she came from."


    "But surely the God Triumvirate has been the guiding policy of Harlenor," said William. "Barden for trade and civilization, Elranor for healing and death. And Laevian to ensure we do not become complacent."


    "Well, that was all well and good," said Arthur. "Back when we lived in constant war with a neverending struggle for survival. Those Gods were invaluable and deserved their place as our chief deities.


    "Contrary to what some may believe." His gaze turned to the brothel, where laughter was underway. Then screaming.


    "Is it not the custom in Antion to greet a ruler in his own land?" asked William. "Or, in all lands."


    "Yes," said Arthur. "I had noticed that.


    "This is beginning to look like something I might have to do something about."


    "Well, what can you do?" asked Vorn. "He''s the High Priest of the Gods."


    At this point, Cirithil was thrown out the door by the blue-clad woman from before. Her eyes were steely, but then William realized it was someone else. Just dressed as her, and as Cirithil scrambled up, he shook his fist. "You won''t get away with this!


    "I set this place up!


    "You work for me!"


    The prostitutes filed out past William one by one toward Arthur. As they did, they stripped off colorful, scanty clothing and put on ordinary clothing. "Can you find us a priest?"


    "The temple is that way," said Arthur. "Provided they haven''t started selling indulgences again."


    Silence.


    "They have," said a woman.


    She was about his age and height, perhaps older, but her physique was... odd. Her breasts were far larger than possible, and she wore a black skirt and white shirt. They swayed with each movement she made while her clothes appealingly clung to her wide hips. Her dark hair was wild and long; she had two dark cat ears on her head instead of ears. A long black cat tail was flicking behind her as she moved forward. She had a briefcase on one side, and her eyes were red and unblinking.


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    For a moment, William wondered if she was a succubus. Of course, a succubus would have come up with something much better than this. Some sort of magical alterations done at birth?


    "Sir Gabriel, I''d like to speak to you on behalf of the Temple of Elranor," said the girl. "I''m Tef Lock. Well, I was Tef Karsif then. Do you remember me?" Her voice was hopeful.


    "I''m afraid I''ve had little time to reminisce," said William.


    She paused. "We ate dinner together at Ran Telus. I was with one of the merchants who went there. Your Father and Mother discussed things, and we looked at the stars while you read a book."


    "Oh yes, of course," said William.


    Edmund Telus had eaten with every person who''d ever wanted to do business in Ran Telus. He had to, to get a sense of their character, and so he''d know their face. Oftentimes, meetings would be set up with many merchants.


    Father had often dined there with the family to consult Edmund on diplomatic choices. They were some of William''s fondest memories before Tanith went to war.


    Vaguely, William remembered it had been a trade negotiation. The Demoration had been trying to convince Edmund Telus to open certain negotiations. Father had advocated against it. Tef had been offered as a ''gift'' to smooth things along. The ''gift'' had been offered by Artulkan Karsif, her uncle, who had been fast to assure Edmund it was legal.


    Edmund had been disgusted and insulted that Artulkan thought he would accept such a gift. Something Artulkan ought to have known if he''d done any research at all.


    William had regarded her only as a merchant''s daughter. He supposed he had been much more memorable than she had been to him. For that, he felt somewhat guilty.


    ''If this is how you treat your own blood,'' Edmund had said to the man. ''One can only imagine how you treat your business partners.''


    Artulkan did not get the favorable trade rights he wanted. And Edmund had pulled every string to shut him and his ilk out of Haldren. And he''d done so quite effectively. Thus, an attempt to corrupt local nobility by sharing decadence ended up in total failure.


    It had been a mere footnote. But judging from events here, Artulkan had not failed as much as expected.


    "If memory served," said William. "Your uncle, Artulkan, explained how you were not his daughter, so it was alright."


    "No, I technically am his daughter," said Tef. "But I''m not really his daughter."


    "Explain what you mean by that?" asked William.


    "Well, see, I do have his genetic material," said Tef. "And I am legally his daughter.


    "But that is just a technicality. See, the Demoration has rules against creating artificial, sentient creatures. But they don''t have any rules against genetically altering your own children.


    "So I was designed in a lab without meeting him and trained as such. But all the paperwork says that I''m his daughter. But I''m not really his daughter, so it''s okay."


    "That is the most absurd basis for prostitution I have ever heard," said William. "And I''m not going to discuss this with you any further.


    "How can I help you?"


    "Right, okay," said Tef. "We''re interested in a peace offering. Can I speak to one side with you?"


    "Felix," said William. "Walk with me."


    "Is this a good idea?" asked Vorn.


    "I''ll consult you if anything unexpected comes up," said William.


    "Don''t sign anything without talking to us," said Vorn.


    William nodded and went to one side. Tef paused and opened the briefcase. Within were a variety of sheets of paper. "These are the deeds to several very profitable estates.


    "The Temple would like to compensate you for the earlier incident. We understand that you felt insulted in the meeting in Atravain. And some of what you saw you took as an assault on noble holdings."


    William paused. "Is this a bribe?"


    "It is a substantial part of our business," said Tef. "Made with the support of numerous powerful goddesses. I understand you''ve already met some of them.


    "The establishments we create provide a safe working environment for the women. Included in the rights is free to use, naturally. They have been of great use to the crown and to the Temple in gathering information."


    "Why is Cirithil sending you?" asked William.


    "Well," said Tef. "I may have mentioned to Rundas that we were childhood friends. And he told me to make a peace offering and left.


    "Believe it or, he''s actually very efficient at running things when he wants to be. You''ve only seen us at our worst."


    "You''re trying to bribe a Paladin?" asked William, letting the childhood friend remark go.


    "Call it compensation," said Tef. "High Priest Cirithil wishes to avoid any further conflicts between our influence. A stake in our ventures could be very profitable indeed for us both.


    "I admit, there have been hopes to expand into Artarq." She gave a winning smile that faded.


    William stared at her. "Why exactly do you have this kind of authority?"


    "Well, the man who commissioned my creation gave me to the temple," said Tef. "As a consultant." She seemed very proud of the fact. "Mostly, I just run errands and file paperwork for Rundas. But I am technically a representative for the Demoration, and I pass messages on to him through Ata. She refused to do this job, so it fell to me." S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    So Artulkan went to Cirithil after going to Edmund. "Get out of the temple, now."


    "It''s fine, really," said Tef. "Cirithil has never touched me. I don''t think he''s even aware I exist.


    "The guy has no interest in sex. Or in gambling. Or in taking walks. All he does is work.


    "Though what it is, I''ll never know. I only handle messages from the Demoration. Can I finish my offer?"


    "Go ahead," said William.


    "High Priest Cirithil is a very influential man," said Tef. "With the support of the Temple, House Gabriel could grow in influence a great deal. Especially since you could be an ideal go-between with House Atravain.


    "Bishop Rundas could support bridging the gap between House De Chevlon and Gabriel. And Bishop Joffrey will have a say in who is chosen to be Lord of Ascorn. Actually, he already has several candidates. At this point, it is virtually inevitable without an outside presence."William said nothing. There really didn''t seem to be anything to say.


    "In time," said Tef, looking about. "We could even arrange a political marriage with Princess Ansara. We are quite influential, and she is in need of support.


    "You could become King of Antion by your own hand."


    William stared. "What is your Father''s connection to all this?"


    "Without having read what Mr. Artulkan had to say about all this," said Tef. "I can''t know. But I know he has been a major supplier for the church.


    "Cirithil has his own private docks for exclusive church use. They get high priority, so what is brought onto them comes in fast. I''m not allowed to be on those docks during operating hours. But I do know that several members of the Sorcerer''s Guild came there.


    "Rundas is usually the guy who handles shipments and stuff here. There was also this guy in black skull armor named Lamech, who was scary. A couple of the people who used to run the docks disappeared suddenly."


    "You''re new to this negotiation thing, aren''t you?" asked William.


    "Look," said Tef. "I just work here. I''m not allowed to pass judgment on anyone. We just want to maintain our profits. We don''t plan to get involved in this internal dispute."


    "But you are involved," said William. "You have made Cirithil very rich. And you have provided how the country has nearly been overrun. So just because you don''t take responsibility does not mean you aren''t responsible."


    "...I''m sorry," said Tef, looking at a loss. "But there''s nothing I can do about that.


    "You could fix all that stuff if House Gabriel took power."


    "No," said William. "I couldn''t."


    "Well, if being King means nothing to you, what does?" said Tef. "What is it that you want?"


    William thought about all this. What, at present, would truly drive him? "I''d like my entrance into the Golden City to begin with seeing the corpse of Cirithil. I want to see him and all his cronies hanging from the gallows as birds turn up their beaks.


    "I would gaze into their soulless eyes, and smile. Do you think the Demoration can set that up, Tef?"


    "...I''ll get back to you," said Tef, raising a paw.


    "No, you will not," said William. "Because you''re going to get out of Cirithil''s company and somewhere safe. I don''t know what he plans to do. But if you''re around him, you''ll either be a human sacrifice or go down with him."


    Suddenly, a child screamed.


    Arthur looked up to where it was coming from the brothel. It was crying and begging for mercy, and Arthur drew his sword and raced up the slope. "William, stay here!"


    Tef halted and looked at William. "Where do I go?"


    "Is there somewhere safe?" asked William. "Surely the Demoration must have some official safe house for you?"


    "I''m an accident," said Tef. "My status as ambassador is thrown together on the fly."


    William shook his head. "Alright, you give my Uncle these deeds when he returns. Then you ask him for sanctuary. He can protect you until the crisis is over.


    "Do not go anywhere with a priest or an agent of any noble family. Especially not House Korlac; they are good, but they have a reputation for being ruthless. Now, you''ll likely be called on to testify.


    "Can you read and write?"


    "Yes," said Tef.


    "Do it then," said William. "Write out everything you can remember about your time with the High Priest and other events. After that, do not go back to the temple under any circumstances.


    "Wait until you are called for. Then, my Uncle will know what to do."


    "Right," said Tef.


    Rundas and Cirithil raced out of the brother with Joffrey and their cronies. Arthur walked behind them, a bloodied sword and a walking stick in one hand. Vorn was holding a child in his arms of about eight. It looked like someone had been going at her wife with a knife with small cuts. But Cirithil was less in shape than the others. Cirithil''s priests leaped into the ox cart. Driving off, they pushed Cirithil out of the door and left him to rot as they bolted off.Cirithil turned in terror to Arthur, who offered him the walking stick.


    The High Priest snatched it and went off as fast as his legs could. Meanwhile, the woman came out with Coalmarsh. Immediately, they began being led toward them. One of them had to be healed of a cut above the brown.


    Tef raced to Arthur while Vorn brought the child to William, who healed it.


    "What was going on in there?" asked William.


    "...One of the priests," said Vorn. "He paid extra to get to disassemble some of the cargo."


    William was speechless. "Why would he..."


    "He''s dead," said Vorn. "Dad cut him to ribbons with two of his friends.


    "The other priests didn''t even notice. They didn''t even hear the screams, but Cirithil did. He bolted only when Dad looked about to go at him with a blade.


    "Don''t know if anyone has thought of this," said Vorn. "But that path leads in sharp bends around a lagoon. If they go around it at the pace the oxen were driven at, they''ll likely fall into it."


    "Damn it, Vorn," said Gwendoven. "Now we have thought of it, so we must do something about it!"


    "Gwendoven is right," said Arthur, coming back. "We cannot leave twenty men to drown simply because they are bad people. So are all of us, or might be had we have been born differently."


    "They were trying to kill a child," said William, healing the girl.


    "I won''t deny they are nearly irredeemable," said Arthur. "But offering the hand of redemption at a late hour may bring them back. Or at least slow their descent into hell.


    "Only one partook in that particular depravity. The others looked disturbed. And we must attempt to find their cure, even if it is beyond us. For any among us might have been them in other circumstances."


    Jehair sighed. "Perhaps we could find some other group of twenty people who are better company."


    "I''ll go!" said Tef. "Who will go with me?!"


    And a lot of people did go with them, quite abruptly. Uncle seemed to have a hold over people. Ropes and everything were gotten together, and they hurried after them. The air was crisp, and a brisk wind kept it from being too hot. The sight of Tef''s bosom moving was nice, though William would never admit it. However, she seemed to move on all fours when going quickly, and her hands had a pawlike look to them.


    If Tef had been created to tempt, she certainly fit the part.


    Soon enough, they came around the bend and found the lagoon, as Vorn said. And just as Vorn had said, the priests were all languishing in the mud, scrambling to try and get out. Coalmarsh and Ata were trying to pull one out, and they succeeded. But he immediately ran off after Cirithil without giving them a look.


    Ropes were thrown down, and the drivers were pulled out next with more oxen. But other priests, Rundas among them, were yelling for help.


    "Leave the beasts!" said Rundas.


    "I say we just kill the priests and take the money," said Auga, reading her book to one side. She had not taken any part in events. She had only followed to watch.


    "How can you say that?" asked Tef, hauling something up with tail flicking.


    "They are useless," said Auga. "They don''t do their job, and they cause trouble." She blinked as she read another page. "Hmm, so that''s how you make lemon chicken."


    Saying this drove Tef into a frenzy. But everyone was working by now, trying to get everyone out. One or two priests did help, some out of shame, others because they noticed Arthur''s gaze on them. Yet Tef seemed to find this infuriating. Jehair used her power over the land to help them get out. And little by little, they were succeeding, though some had to balance on the carriages.


    Even so, William marveled at how her thighs strained to pull vast weights, and her arms did with them. Moreover, her outfit made the sight of her labor more appealing than it ought to have been.


    Meanwhile, Jehair moved to pull the oxen away from the accident with Felix and some others. The labor was hard; one had a broken leg, but William healed it and several others. Others had bruises, and a few spat out blood and had to be tended to quickly.


    Food was brought forth, the best anyone could get. The priests ate their fill miserably together. Some helped draw people out, but Rundas sat to one side, scowling. Cirithil was nowhere to be seen, and William almost hoped he was dead.


    "Tef," said William. "What is the nature of these brothels that have been set up. I saw Goddesses within one."


    "It was Maius'' idea," said Tef. "She put me in charge of arranging shipments of alcohol. That and made rules about hurting the employees. But she and Cirithil had recently fallen out, and she pulled support.


    "I guess that''s why that priest tried to hurt that little girl.


    "I don''t understand how anyone could be so sick."


    "Neither do I," said William. "Anyone else?"


    "Well, Isriath usually helped with music and artistry," said Tef. "But she walked with Maius. There was also Chun Xi. She provided funding from Kadan and was always very professional. I think she wanted information on what Bretusians were doing.


    "She spent a lot of time keeping track of mercenaries. I remember she hired many Khasmir Campaign veterans to return to Namina with her."


    "Why?" asked William.


    "Namina doesn''t have a good military," said Tef. "Well, unless you count King Nagos."


    "And how does he fit into this?" asked William.


    "He doesn''t," said Tef. "Nagos showed up and talked to a lot of people. Cirithil pretends they''re friends, but I don''t think they are. Nagos never uses our services, and while he does use Cirithil''s ports, it''s all legal.


    "They''ve talked once or twice. I met King Nagos, though, and he''s a really great person. He''d never be involved in any of this."


    "Then why do you work here?" asked William.


    "Well, I was given to the temple by Artulkan Karsif after I was rejected as a gift," said Tef. "And I kept my ears open and ran errands. Since I used to live in the Demoration, I know why it is doing things."


    "I mean these brothels," said William.


    "Well, Maius is really well-liked in Kadan," said Tef. "The basic idea was to create safe areas where girls who had been defiled could live and work. Then they gather information to prepare for what is coming."


    "Well, that has nothing to do with me," said William. "Though, if you wish, I will record this in my book."


    "It might help," said Tef. "At this point, it''s all in ruins.


    "Everyone we set up has gone off and become priestesses of Elranor, Barden, and Laevian. Foreign gods."


    "We?" asked Felix.


    "I ran errands for Maius and Chun Xi and Isriath," said Tef weakly.


    "I sincerely doubt it," said Felix.


    "Felix, why have you been so unprofessional lately?" said William. "Is something wrong?"


    "...We should have saved the oxen and the drivers," said Felix. "And leave the priests to drown. They are a disgrace by any standard, and the mere thought that they somehow represent a force of good is..."


    "Felix," said William. "This is not the time. Have you ever met King Andoa?"


    "Yes," said Tef. "He was really nice. But he seemed troubled, and he got weaker when bad things happened to the land. He said that as King, the land and he were one."


    At that moment, Vorn got back looking very distressed. William guessed it had something to do with their status as a merchant. "What is it?"


    "Sorry I wasn''t here to help with the unloading," said Vorn, though William hadn''t noticed his absence. "I had to do some talking with King Nagos.


    "It seems that Cirithil sold a lot of his flocks to various places in the Islands of Power. The shipments are going to Sorn now. And we''ve got to stop them."


    "That can''t be legal," said William.


    "It doesn''t matter," said Vorn. "Those flocks are used in reserve in case of famine. Traditionally, they are slaughtered. You use them to feed the poor since they''d starve anyway. Cirithil probably doesn''t know that, but we might have a bad harvest this year.


    "And when you get a bad harvest, it sometimes takes a while to bounce back. Also, it takes much longer to raise livestock than crops. So now, I''ve gotten all the merchants to refuse to do anything. And if a message gets through to House Korlac, they''ll lock things down.


    "But sooner or later, he''ll be able to sell it if he can."


    "Couldn''t we use the fallow land?" said Tef, adjusting her hair and pushing back an errant bang. It gave her a cute look William liked, especially with her red eyes. "To grow crops on instead?"


    "Livestock grazes a lot," said Vorn. "It won''t be useable. And even if it is, we can''t do anything with it. And Cirithil is going to want a major bribe if we''re going to do anything with it. Even if he gets one, he doesn''t know a thing about cultivating anything.


    "And I don''t think he has the humility to delegate. His affairs have been well-minded because his predecessor did good work. Unfortunately, Cirithil never paid any attention to any of that.


    "This isn''t a business decision. He''s just doing this to look decisive.


    "The money he spent there he used to invest in the operations he did out here. It''s like he''s trying to start mass starvation."


    "Could you buy them?" asked William.


    "Well, not now," said Vorn. "No offense, but that scuffle you had with him will cause problems."


    "I refuse to accept the desecration of all that is sacred," said William.


    "That won''t be any comfort if people start starving William," said Vorn.


    "So what are we going to do?" asked William.


    "You don''t have to do anything. I''ve sent messages to Duke Marn," said Vorn. "And all the other lords. We''re planning to buy them up, with an understanding that they only get used in famine."


    "So," William halted. "Cirithil is selling his position as High Priest?"


    "He has the position," said Vorn.


    "His position is his duties," said William. "He''s sold out the temples; he''s sold out the priesthood. And now he''s selling out the holdings of the church.


    "The position as High Priest is effectively ceasing to exist. And the church with it.


    "We can''t let this happen. The old high priest was a longtime friend of King Andoa, and if we don''t have a center of religion, what do we have left? He''s destroying the church. If things go this way, all the nobles will set up their own cults. Grace, Janice, and Jaina are already almost doing it.


    "Do you really want House Hawkthorne determining good and evil?


    "I wouldn''t want my own Father doing it. And once the church is destroyed, where does the Paladin Order take orders from? And what is its authority?"


    Vorn considered it.


    "You could try resorting to violence," said Tef.


    Silence.


    "What, that''s what everyone does in this place," said Tef. "It''s the standard procedure."


    "I see," said Vorn. "You mean just smash Cirithil''s head against a window and tell him to do nothing or die. There''s gotta be a better angle; once you start killing people, everything gets nasty."


    At that moment, the High Priest returned with armed guards, spears, and knives. They halted, bearing the emblem of the city guard, and William put a hand to his sword. Arthur did as well, and there was silence as William and Arthur''s fighting men stood ready. Gwendoven watched with interest. The guards, spearmen in plain armor, looked at one another. Then at, a group of war veterans were looking for a fight. They saluted.


    "High Priest Cirithil," said Arthur. "Hail and well met. I am pleased you have found such respectful and wise guardians."


    "These men," said Cirithil, eyes filled with pure hatred. "Are here to arrest the traitor, William Gabriel."


    William drew his sword, as did everyone else. Elranor was very quick these days.

 Chapter 158 - Nine: The Marsh

    Blades were readied, and challenges called as men prepared for blood. William''s hand went to his own sword, eagerly seeking to slay Cirithil if it came to it. Yet Vorn caught his hand as the guards near Cirithil readied their weapons. Cirithil stood there looking dead with a smile.


    "Stop!" said Arthur, and everyone did.


    William lowered his sword, as did Felix. Jehair''s scythe was lowered as Massacre growled.


    Finally, Lord Arthur moved forward: "High Priest Cirithil, you are not arresting anyone. Let alone a member of my family."


    "He has attempted to sabotage the church," said Cirithil, his voice soft. "He has associated with demons such as Arraxia. He has also worked with worshippers of Fortenex.


    "Because of this, I name him a heretic. He will be interrogated for information about his demonic master, Arraxia. Resist, and you are no ally of Elranor."


    "Hardly," said Coalmarsh, who had a mace in hand. "You are no servant of Elranor. Kill him, Lord Arthur! Put him out of the misery of his victims!"


    "I have a legal right to arrest him," said Cirithil. "And my grounds are just. He has had, by his own admission, an association with demons."


    "Were you another man, I might consider your claims to have some merit," said Arthur. "But you are a murderer and worse. I will nor give you my nephew."


    Cirithil did not respond; his face was silent. "Very well then.


    "If you insist on siding with a heretic, I cannot stop you. Nevertheless, the damage done to my property must be restored. I am hereby standing on my right to call on these people for service to the church.


    "You will retrieve the church''s property that you have wantonly destroyed."


    Silence.


    Vorn looked to the wagons. "What property? What are you talking about?"


    "Those wagons," said Cirithil stated. "Are necessary for many business deals that the church will make. The money within them will be used for matters beyond your expertise. You will retrieve it."


    "Go to hell," said Vorn. "If you want to race around dangerous corners, that''s your business." S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "This is a sacred task," said Cirithil, looking solemn. Was this the same man?


    "What''s our cut?" asked Vorn flatly. "These men I''ve called up have already done a lot of labor getting your priests out. They''re dog-tired, and I''ve got one or two vendettas with you already."


    Murmurs of agreement.


    "Vorn," said Lord Arthur. "You ill become your rank. Cirithil is not my friend, but the High Priest remains the Head of the Church. It is his property, and it is within his rights to ask for the services of the local nobility."


    Silence.


    Rundas looked uneasily. "Your grace, perhaps a demonstration of humility on our part, could help prevent a conflict."


    Cirithil considers this a moment.


    "Do so," said Cirithil.


    And so began another labor. It was long, bitter, and hard as men struggled to get the huge carts out. And Cirithil insisted they get the carts out, not just the money. He and his priests stood by and did nothing while it continued, calling for food and wine. Neither of which were brought to them. Vorn and Coalmarsh stood across from there, glaring in hatred at Cirithil.


    William helped with the labor, and his strength was useful. But some of the carriages broke down, and once or twice, men were seriously hurt. William healed them each time, but it was difficult. He felt that Cirithil was finally using his power alongside that of the priest. And they were using it to interfere with him.


    They wanted Willam to fail, even if it meant failing themselves.


    Every moment dragged on in a way that it never had before. Every tiny pain was like a lifetime of agony. Each time they pulled and pushed and got a wagon out, there was no thanks. Cirithil just stood there without expression.


    Watching the desperation and labor of these people.


    Vorn wasn''t any use in physical labor, but he spent time talking with merchants who went by. This infuriated Cirithil. He became more infuriated as Arthur had several firm conversations. Many people were just as concerned about things as everyone else. So now, what could have been a crisis had been averted, or so William guessed.


    Tef proved to be a major asset. William was amazed at the strength that was within her paws. And she had a balance like nothing he''d seen, able to stand on slippery surfaces and keep balance. Often, she''d grab a rope and bound it down to the marshes, balancing on the carriages and tying it down.


    But that did not make things any less miserable for William or the people working here. Because they''d only gotten a few out. And by the time they finished, even with the guards. Everyone was drenched in sweat, and several people had been injured at least once. Nobody had realized how easy things had been with Tef.


    That may have been because of the nature of the task.


    "This is the worst work I''ve ever had taking carriages out," said a man.


    "You do this often?" asked William.


    "Yes," said the man, hauling on a rope with him. "You see, this bend has always been sharp. So, every so often, someone comes by too fast and falls off it. Vorn put together a task whose main purpose was to rescue people who fell in.


    "We''re part of it."


    "Not how I wanted to spend my time in the city guard," said a grizzled veteran. "But, better than leaving them."


    "And what are you doing out here?" asked William.


    "Cirithil said he''d been menaced and attacked by a noble," said the veteran. "Told us to arrest him. Authority is a gray area, but we were going to do it.


    "At least until he changed his mind.


    "Was it you?"


    William told him the short version of the story. This got a general laugh from most of the people present, and Cirithil did not show any emotion at all. Just stood there as though he were a statue in the rain. Those eyes really did seem something from Diabolus, and he had said nothing while they worked.


    A strange thing began to happen as they worked. The priests who broke with Cirithil to help with the work gradually seemed to change. Rundas was among them, though he was reluctant. Though there was no physical look, you began to see them as a person. Before, they''d sort of meshed into a crowd behind Cirithil. William only thought of Joffrey or Rundas when looking for them.


    Like they were a set of knives on a belt. But not you could see them as human, a mortal beings with a divine spark. As the filth got all over them like it did everyone else, that spark seemed to be rekindled. Their eyes were no longer empty.


    But the priests like Joffrey and the others who stayed with Cirithil changed, too. The more you looked at them, the harder it was to pick them out of the crowd. Joffrey could be identified if you looked for the clothes he was wearing. Or a particular facial expression or feature that was unique to him. But you couldn''t look for Joffrey or the others. Their expressions became ever more hateful and twisted.


    Somehow, they did it without physically changing, and soon, no one dared look at them. Instead, they instinctively looked away from the priests or looked past their shoulders. Everyone, except Vorn, met Cirithil''s gaze head-on while organizing. Cirithil looked right back, and there was real hatred there. Obviously, this was not the first time they had clashed.


    William realized he had finished telling his story, and the men laughed.


    "Got chased out of every brothel in Antion," laughed the guard. "I''m Tombs, by the way."


    The mirth was short-lived. Somehow, everything became worse still, and the effort continued. Desperately, they strove to get everything out while the oxen munched happily.


    At least someone was having a good time, even if Cirithil was not paying attention.


    Was this some kind of harvest?


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    Was the devil reaping the seeds long planted that had flowered? And who was the wheat?


    "It''s done," said Tombs. "Everything is out."


    "But is all the money out?" asked Cirithil, relatively calm for one surrounded by armed men who hated him. "All of it must be retrieved."


    Checking the carriage, they determined that some chests of gold had fallen out. And so the men spent another miserable day diving into a swamp, looking for treasure. Vorn arranged for water and medical treatment. The sun beat down on them, and Cirithil looked in a particularly good mood.


    Vorn wiped the sweat from his brow. "Well, it''s settled.


    "We headed it off, and the flocks are safe. We''re also posting a couple of guards on them. Just in case anyone gets ideas of breaking the agreement."


    "Does Cirithil know?" asked William.


    "He doesn''t know anything," said Vorn. "He''s an idiot.


    "I''m sure Coalmarsh has only the best intentions, but there''s no demonic possession here. Just a rotten, spoiled brat with too much money and no sense of how to use it."


    "I wish I believed you," said William. "But I think there might be something to it-"


    "There isn''t, kid," said Vorn. "You see demonic possession because Cirithil is a really terrible person. You have good ideas about how a priest or paladin should behave, and Cirithil hates you.


    "He''s a complete disgrace, but you don''t want to believe that any priest could be this bad. But you haven''t grown up with it like I have. So, you look for some kind of explanation for it. And since you are in touch with the spirit world, you start to see one.


    "The truth, Will, is that some people are just terrible. And some people start out terrible and get worse if nobody can stop them. Nobody could stop Cirithil, so now he''s such slime that nobody can believe he exists.


    "Don''t look for demonic possession when pure, simple, human evil works just fine."


    William nodded and said no more.


    Finally, they began to hoist the boxes of upward treasure individually. Two came up without incident, but then one broke.


    "All of it must be retrieved," said Cirithil. "All of it."


    And the priests laughed. Most were having a fine time, though not all of them. Those who actually began to help with the work were a great asset. They minded injuries and helped with the rope-pulling. They were often cut or made filthy, and some fled behind Cirithil. But others stayed and continued to become alive.


    But the work was still miserable. People had to look through the muck and dirt for every scrap of coin they could. Some went blind and had to be healed, and Jehair could do only so much. And when they looked everywhere near the shore, Cirithil ordered the search to expand.


    "Every bit of the church''s property must be retrieved," said Cirithil, voice soft.


    One or two did so anyway, and the demon''s influence faded.


    "I think I understand your perspective better, Vorn," said William, despising the work. "These men are worthy of praise as much as any soldier."


    "Well, you said it, not me," said Vorn. "Am I even in the right country?"


    It was a fair question.


    Harlenorians, whose core principle was strength and self-determination, now slaved away. All at the behest of a collection of fat and weak bullies. The priests who stood with Cirithil were like children, only they were adults. Forty to fifty in many cases, with Cirithil being the youngest and the person they wanted to be.


    "Keep it up, lads," called Joffrey, empty-eyed as always. Rundas grimaced as he helped pull a man out of the mud with the cargo.


    Mocking the very people they relied on. Though achieving vengeance on a hated enemy when there had been no cause. This could not possibly be revenge; what revenge were they taking? Was it simple contempt?


    Or perhaps, it was revenge for these people not being as they assumed they were? Ordinary people had proven to be virtuous, strong, and worthy of admiration. They had refused to be enslaved to the caricature these priests had imagined.


    The nobility was able to adjust their perspective because they had an agenda.


    Yet Cirithil had no agenda save hedonism and spite that William could tell. Whatever designs the demons within him had, Cirithil cared nothing for them. Yet such a thing could not truly be a cause. So he needed some other thing to focus on as an identity, and scorning the common people was convenient. After all, commoners believed in everything that Cirithil disregarded. Dismissing them as worthless, lazy idiots let him ignore his worst qualities.


    Should William pity him?


    No.


    Not at all.


    Cirithil was an adult and could have learned better even if he had not been taught better. There was a Cirithil out there who experienced exactly the same things. Someone who, after enduring self-inflicted humiliation, chose to change who they are.


    William knew one who did.


    No, Cirithil was simply not important.


    "Enough," said Arthur suddenly. "These men have gathered all of the coins you asked for. Take your due and never set foot in my lands again.


    "Now, begone."


    Cirithil halted and felt the eyes of others on him. He looked around and nodded. "Very well.


    "However, thanks to their efforts, those oxen will be slaughtered for a feast."


    It was a single act of spite.


    But it spoke volumes.


    Cirithil had no idea that anyone had been invested in the oxen. But he had a general idea they were doing well, and he had power over them. Nobody had used them for hard labor, so he destroyed them. And then force the people who liked them to eat them.


    "No," said Vorn, who liked animals. "I''m taking those oxen as my rightful due. My men have been forced to do far more than you asked. You''ve repaid saving the lives of your people with misery.


    "Doing a good deed to do another good deed late is on the thing, but I note you were in no hurry to get your friends. Men, take the oxen."


    Cirithil was now surrounded by enemies. William decided that he should just leave. He had not come to start a fight, and Vorn had been right. Starting a confrontation with that brother has caused this. So William ought to let it go and turn back.


    "William Gabriel," said Cirithil. "You may consider this your redemption."


    No.


    That was too much.


    William should take his sword. He must stab the foul beast and put out his eyes. He thought about drawing his sword and grasping Cirithil by the throat. He could bring this... official, to the altar of Elranor and execute him there.


    Elranor himself could hardly say it was a bad move.


    It would send exactly the right message; any Haldrenian would agree with him.


    But this was not Haldren.


    The High Priest had a sacred role.


    The question was this;


    Was High Priest Cirithil a political actor or the head of the faith?


    William should cut him down where he stood if he was a political actor. The slight degradation on himself and his house already were too great. But if he was the head of the church, William could not lay a hand on him.


    And which it was would not be determined by Elranor or him.


    William looked up at his Uncle. "Uncle, am I to understand that the man bearing the title of High Priest is under your protection?"


    Arthur considered it. "He is."


    "Then I will allow this insult to pass," said William, sheathing his sword.


    Cirithil turned to begin counting his money. And they left, though Tef stayed behind to observe. William hoped she wasn''t going over to his side. But they returned to the village, ceding the field to that contemptible bastard. Worse still, no sooner had they sat down to drink than Rundas came into the village.


    A guard bristled, but Arthur waved him off.


    "You townsfolk," said Rundas, who was looking very concerned. "I need men to carry a vast sum of gold to Antion. There will be extensive wages in it for you. The High Priest is in dire need, and there is an opportunity to serve the church and Elranor."


    And he went about, asking repeatedly. Although his demeanor was less smug, he seemed at least ashamed. William was not feeling forgiving. He went here and there, but Uncle let him.


    "Why would you stop me, Uncle?" said William, drinking deeply. "The man is a monster and as bad as any demon. We ought to have cut him down there and then!"


    "Yes," said Auga. "Why do we not arrest Rundas? You already banished him?"


    "Wait for it," said Vorn with a smile.


    "Wait for what?" said Mara. "Alright, keep your secrets, dear."


    "Why did you not let me kill Cirithil?" asked Willia.


    "It was not just for his sake that I stopped you," said Arthur. "If you were to cut him down, you would be cutting down the church. It has already been discredited. And a Paladin who behaves far better than the priests would be the death of it.


    "That is why he sought to humiliate us. If he could get us to inflict violence on him, he could take solace in ruining others. He could say to himself that no one really believes in the gods or the church."


    A large group of people went off with Rundas, and he looked to smirk at Arthur, who sighed. The people, however, looked furious. Tef halted. "I''m going to go see what''s going on."


    "What are you saying?" asked William.


    "By enduring the humiliations he inflicts on us, he is defeated," said Lord Arthur. "He has lost finances, territory, and the spiritual battle. He has been forced to see that Antion values the church. He has failed to destroy the faith of the people and the nobility. Worse still, his hold has been broken on some of his priests.


    "Those men may do great deeds of mercy and charity in the future.


    "And he will see and hear of them doing those deeds. That will pain him far more than any sword blow. It may even, eventually, redeem his soul."


    "And what mischief do you think he will do with the money we''ve given back to him?" said William.


    "I don''t think you need to worry about that, William," said Uncle. "While he has a lot of money, there is the cost of transportation and portage to consider. It is a long way from Antion."


    William heard shrieks of rage from around the bend.


    Tef came back, bounding ahead of a crowd that was coming back. "They threw all the gold back into the swamp. The city guard refused his bribes and left them there!"


    "Such a pity that Cirithil is henceforth exiled from my domain," said Arthur. "Otherwise, he might be able to ask me for help."


    Everyone laughed, even Jehair.


    Everyone except William, Tef, and Felix, whose gaze met. Tef seemed surprised at the laughter, and her big eyes blinked as if wondering why they were laughing. Felix clasped his hands and looked to William, who met it.


    They''d have both much preferred Cirithil dead.


    And they''d see it eventually. The laughter died, and Arthur shrugged. We could arrange an escort for them. It wouldn''t be fitting for them to go unguarded, and the roads are not as safe as they once were."


    "I''ll arrange it," said Vorn. Then he looked to two of his men. "You, take five men and take care of this. Nothing happens to Cirithil until he gets to Antion. And keep him away from the girls."


    "I''ll go as well," said Coalmarsh. "Someone needs to watch him.


    "Let''s go, Ata."


    "Of course, Coalmarsh," said Ata.


    Mara put a hand on William''s shoulder. "Just forget about him.


    "Think about them when you can do something about it."


    William nodded. "Thank you."


    He would be glad to be rid of the High Priest. But he could put it aside for now for the sake of his family.

 Chapter 159 - Ten: Aftermath

    Happily, it turned out that things went badly for Cirithil from the very instant William had left. After the city guard left him, it got the priests very worried. Many found the occasion to go home and reconnect with family. Others, including Rundas, could be seen using their powers to heal the sick and injured. Like they should have been doing it ages ago.


    Those who remained with Cirithil were the sort to be utterly disgusted with him. Or, in the case of Joffrey, the type sticking around for a bigger reward later. So things went all the worse from there.


    Cirithil tried to bribe them with promises of part of it. But Coalmarsh told him he''d only do it if Cirithil resigned. This Cirithil would not be due, and he couldn''t get anyone else to help him. Neither could go into town and hire anyone because he wanted to make sure this kind of money was paid for all finders.


    No one had even felt pity for Cirithil because he really should have known better.


    There was no excuse for being this stupid and irresponsible. It would be a long way before William held any respect for Rundas or the others. Joffrey, meanwhile, was apparently dispatched on business with an entourage of guards. Reports indicated that he had been followed by a drunken and armed knight.


    "That''s why Rundas thought Elranor didn''t exist," blurted Jehair.


    "What?" said William.


    "He must have been in contact with people from this other world," said Jehair. "Some in the Demoration believe that gods are psychic manifestations. They believe the gods derive from something called the collective unconscious."


    "I don''t want to ever hear about Cirithil again," said William with a sigh. The High Priest''s existence had burdened an already lovely visit. "My only hope is that he will be struck by a bolt of divine retribution as quickly as possible."


    "I''d like to finish my thought all the same," said Jehair.


    "So Cirithil liked the idea because it absolved him of responsibility," said William. He was guessing at her line of argument. "And it let him lead a life of unchecked hedonism without guilt. Since the gods were fake, and we were all fools."


    "Yes," said Jehair.


    "I don''t care," said Auga, still reading. Uncle and his wife were back in town, making arrangements to keep Cirithil out of trouble.


    "In that, we agree. What are you reading?" asked William.


    "Book on experimental crossings," said Auga, flipping a page. "Made by the Sorcerers Guild. You don''t physically cross over to the other world. Usually, anyway, there are exceptions, like when a god pulls you places.


    "You send a phantom over that gets back the second you left when you''re done. But what you do in the other world affects what happens to you in the other. If you die here, you probably die relatedly on the other side. Though, it all varies by the world."


    "Where do you get all these books?" asked William, although it was foolish. Uncle had much easier access to books than Father, who had to import from the presses in Antion. The distance to Haldren was much smaller than the distance to Brisgald. Simple logistics raised prices, all the more so when Father had a book sent to be transcribed to print.


    "Father collects them," said Vorn. "Got inspired to do by your old man." William let it pass, though his foreign way of talking irritated him. "So, mind if I ask where you got the scar?"


    "In battle, a few marks of pride," said William with a smile. "You seem to have avoided the problem."


    "Well, I mostly stick to merchant work. Someone has to run things," said Vorn. He''d gotten complacent. "Not much of a fan of the war scars.


    "You ought to get that looked at."


    William remembered the scar Arraxia had given him. "It''s a mark of pride.


    "It shows I was in battle with a powerful demoness and was victorious."


    "To each their own kid," said Vorn. "But you''re facing would drive the maidens crazy without it."


    "I think it does already," said William with a smile.


    "Harlenor is awash with experts in combat," noted Jehair. "Some variety can''t hurt."


    "So, how have things progressed in Brisgald?" asked William. "Other than what I''ve seen."


    "Well, we''ve opened up some new mines," said Vorn. "Some of our people hit copper, and we''ve started digging. Even hired a group of Nakmar Dwarves to set up a colony to mine it, contracts and supplies being set up.


    "Uncle, set that up for us. And my people are in the transport business. And as usual, we''ve got the supplies of bog iron and such.


    "Your connections with them gave me a chance to do it. They seem to really like you."


    "I remember the conversation with Kiyora about it," said William. House Gabriel''s friendship with the Nakmar was a great boon to both. "Any trouble with the satyrs?" This conversation ought to have been had much before, but there was no time for it. He''d kept putting it off, and the letter still hadn''t been given.


    Vorn hadn''t been there when he''d arrived, and it hadn''t seemed right to give it to him. After that, everything was hectic.


    "None at all," said Vorn. "Arraxia, the new demonic overlord, had rigidly enforced her agreement with Uncle. I''ve had no raids, and that''s for the best.


    "And the bandits steer clear of these lands. A lot of them have old friends who resettled out here."


    "Now, our policy is to give them a chance to surrender," said Auga. "If they do, we provide them free transportation to one of the colonies. Whether they like it or not.


    "Estal is a popular destination, as is the Islands of Power."


    "You know, I heard there was talk of a war there," said Vorn. "Sorn has been gathering ships, and there''s talk they''ll launch a new offensive.


    "King Andoa though, well, he''s been kept shut up in his palace as usual. Nobody knows what he is doing until everything is decided."


    "Is that wise?" asked William.


    "That depends on what you think is going to happen," said Auga. "Vorn believes the whole thing is going to be a stalemate. It''ll be a waste of time. He wants us to adopt a wait-and-see approach."


    "It''s the only way it''ll go down," said Vorn. "Looking at those plantations made me into an abolitionist, Auga. They are completely unstable; everybody is living in constant fear and hatred. All you''d need to do is land some troops, and you could start a revolution.


    "That would put the Sornians out of business immediately."


    "Yes, Vorn, but you''re assuming their enemies know they are organized enough to do it," said Auga. "Dinis has been decaying for years. I''ve been there. They''d had one of their provinces gutted by a demonic invasion. So Kalthak will likely take the chance on the raid.


    "So they can''t put their full force on it.


    "Meanwhile, Chaminus has a decent fleet, but they can''t resist the Sornians. At best, they''ll slow things down long enough for a good deal. And who else is there to resist them but a few islands of pirates?"


    "Some of those pirates have Harlenorian blood, Auga," said Vorn. "Many of them are descendants of slaves who escaped from the Calishans. And King Nagos maintains relationships with them; he''ll probably make an alliance."


    "It would only slow them down," said Auga. "It would take either utter stupidity by the Sornians or brilliance by his enemies. King Nagos is competent but not an experienced soldier, and everything is against him.


    "Who else can lead? Emperor Octavus is William''s age and has never escaped his palace.


    "And Dinis is already facing serious problems. Especially with Kalthak seeking vengeance on the border."


    "What happened with Kalthak?" asked William.


    "Eastern Kalthak, William, the country hasn''t unified yet," said Jehair.


    "Basically, the Prince of Kalthak Abdul Sahshir has a skin disease that is killing him," said Vorn. William wondered if he could heal it. "There was a power struggle between him and his uncle, Asim. Apparently, they worked something out since Asim stepped aside in the end. Nobody even died.


    "But Zigilus staged a raid on Kalthak in the chaos that did a lot of damage. The Emperor dispatched his legions to destroy Zigilus. And a demonic invasion gutted the entire province.


    "It''s a perfect time for Kalthak to get even. And Sahshir is apparently both violent and desperate to prove himself.


    "What do you think, Jehair? You were there during the sacking of Zigilus?"


    Jehair bit her lip. "It would be more accurate to say that I was watching.


    "Laevian wanted an observer, but I took no part in the conflict. And the Flower Maiden sent me there on unrelated business I had already completed. I had several business arrangements with Imogen there and a few others.


    "As a druid, I am not so much neutral as in it for the woods."


    William thought about the problem and tried to remember the maps he''d seen in Carn Gable.


    "...What if Eastern Kalthak sides with Dinis?" asked William suddenly.


    "Why would they not do that?" agreed Vorn.


    "It''s the smart move," said William. "Dinis has already gotten a bloody nose for their raid. And if Sorn takes over the Islands of Power, Eastern Kalthak is a logical next step. They are the weakest shore Sorn will be in reach of."


    "They''ve got some ships," noted Vorn. "And I''ve heard that Sahshir invaded Zigilus alone during the fighting. He even allowed many of the survivors to enter his domain. And I have seen him as a formidable warrior, albeit slightly mad.


    "Sahshir has some ships, and allying with Dinis allows him to make his mark. And it also leaves his borders much more secure. Dinis isn''t going to invade a country they don''t border anymore; Zigilus is abandoned. It''ll be decades before they can repair it, and both sides need that border secure."


    "Then the question becomes, is Sahshir smart?" noted William, certain the answer was yes for no reason he could comprehend. Had he met the man?


    "He was smart enough to stage a coup without killing anyone. And to convince his uncle to abdicate," said Jehair. "And by all accounts, he has become quite popular.


    "I think he may make a decent King for as long as he lives."


    "Antion agrees," said Auga. "He''s popular with Zigildrazians."


    "Why?" asked William.


    "Zigildrazians regard themselves as property," said Jehair. "Zigilus was chosen to be destroyed. But Sahshir managed to amuse Zigildrazia. Then, he saved many of them so that they had a new settlement in East Kalthak.


    "Zigildrazia is not interested in intelligent foreign policy. Only in putting on a good show."


    William considered the problem of Tavish and his operations. They would have to be dealt with.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "...What are we going to do about these bandits? We''ll have to do something."


    "Kill them all," said Auga, who had a very practical mind.


    "Father has offered dispossessed soldiers the chance to resettle," said Vorn. "I think I mentioned that earlier.


    "It was my idea. We''ve had a lot of abandoned space, and raids by satyrs drove many people from the borders. And there were a couple of plagues in the days of Borinius that decreased things.


    "Setting up some new people there seems good. It is not as profitable as slaves, maybe, but it isn''t evil.


    "It also gives us a ready supply of fighting men who have a grudge against our neighbors and owe us everything."


    "Convenient," said Auga.


    Their journey led them out of the green lands and into a place much less green. There was underbrush closer to the road and unkempt trees. The air went from cool to cold, and the land became drab. Soon, the clouds were getting very thick and dark. Perhaps foreshadowing a downpour that had not yet come. Low rumbles could be heard. William wondered if the rain would symbolize redemption or grief.


    Soon, the trees that dotted the area around them became thicker. There was less open space, and towns needed William''s help a bit. He provided without fanfare, accepted hospitality for the night, and moved on. During this time, they learned that House Marn had been approached by Cirithil. He had been asked to transport the High Priest''s flocks.


    Letan had shut it down because only a madman would court famine.


    "The real problem is House Marn," said Vorn.


    "Why are they a problem?" asked William.


    "They control access to Savior''s Run, which is situated right by the mouth of the river," said Vorn.


    "And they are the primary contact for most offworlders.


    "A lot of Cirithil''s contacts come from there. If he sold the livestock to them, they could move it off-world in a day, and nobody would notice. And they have dealings with the Sorcerer''s Guild that are off the books.


    "I''ve been in one or two meetings, and he''s on them. I wouldn''t be surprised if he didn''t make a bit of use of their services."


    "Surely not," said William, feeling obligated to defend nobility.


    "I don''t mean prostitutes," said Vorn. "I mean information.


    "Politics in Antion has a lot of secret-keeping and blackmail in it. Letan operates almost entirely in Antion, so he''s got to be really good at it. But when you deal in those circles, they deal in you.


    "Maybe someone has leverage on him."


    "Why does that make him the problem?" asked William.


    "Well, they''ve got territory near the mouth of Savior''s Run," said Vorn as thunder roared overhead. "And because of some deals they cut ages ago with the spirits, they can move through it quickly. No one ever attacks them on Savior''s Run, ever.


    "It''s never happened.


    "So they don''t have to pay river guards, they don''t have to worry about losing ships or cargo. That means they can undercut the prices of everyone who uses the river with less risk. As a result, they''ve practically got exclusive access to trade there. Everyone else must take a long way, and most can''t get to Qor''Dana.


    "Unless you want to risk pirates in the Islands of Power. That means goods made near the river are much more expensive."


    "They''ve never forgiven us for ruining their neat and tidy system in Artarq," said Auga. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yeah, see, when they bought Artarq from King Andoa. They more or less gained absolute control of the entire malas trade," said Vorn. "Not to mention trade into Khasmir and a lot of other places. They allowed huge amounts of corruption in the ports, so everyone relied on the river.


    "Then they got paid bribes from corrupt officials. They, in turn, undercut the competition. A lot of them want payback; maybe House Marn wants payback. We gotta hit them before they hit us again."


    "I know; I''ve been living there Vorn," said William. "Father has spent years ripping the system to shreds. All of the areas are directly run by competent officials loyal to Father."


    "Oh, right," said Vorn. "Well, that kind of brute force approach won''t work in Antion. Andoa deliberately made it so it couldn''t work. He didn''t like violence."


    "And as a result, we got Kafka," said William. "House Marn was very unpopular during its reign in Artarq. Father exposing Borinius saved the entire region. If he hadn''t been in that Castle, the Calishans would have walked in unopposed."


    "...Do you think that House Marn set Reg up?" asked William. "Neral Dinis can''t have acted alone."


    "Reg?" asked Auga. "Mother''s brother? What about him?"


    "Haven''t you been listening, Auga?" asked Vorn.


    "I''ve been reading," said Auga.


    "Give me that thing," said Vorn, snatching it and putting it in his pack.


    "Give me my book back," said Auga.


    "You can get it back after we finish planning our revenge scheme," said Vorn. "Not before."


    Auga fumed.


    William then explained, again, how Reg came to take over Ascorn, and Auga was very bored by it. She kept eyeing the mountaintops as the wind howled at them.


    "Anyway, the answer is no," said Vorn. "Noble houses control their people because they are afraid of losing prestige. If you abuse your authority and break your oaths, you''ll be disgraced. Duke Letan is very big on that, and that''s why he runs the operation.


    "Everybody knows he''ll only do what is necessary and no more.


    "Atravain didn''t benefit from it. And a foreign power would need a go-between. So it''s either Neral Dinis working alone, House De Chevlon using him for deniability."


    "Who are we technically allied with?" said William.


    "Hawkthorne has it easy," said Vorn. "The House has utterly destroyed any semblance of honor or never valued it. His grandfather ran brothels for Elranor''s sake.


    "At the same time, other nobles disliked Baron Hawkthorne enough that he could never be a threat by himself. He needs outside support. So, while everyone hates him, he is never dangerous enough to justify wiping the family out. This leaves House Hawkthorne in a limbo where none of the normal means of chastisement work.


    "Vladimir plays proxy to a lot of criminal groups who hate vampires. Neral Dinis doesn''t fit everyone. And I heard he''s even done some off-world business."


    "So what would you suggest?" asked William.


    "I have no idea," said Vorn. "We can''t hit them directly. That''s not how it works. But messing with the economy is dangerous. Every market is connected to another; if you hit one, you hit them all.


    "We need a way to hit the criminal markets without hitting legal ones."


    "When a man who invests his money into an honest market decides he has had enough," said Jehair. "He takes his money out with any profits and puts it elsewhere. When a man who invests his money into a criminal market decides he has had enough, his throat is cut. Then he is tossed into a river to float away."


    "What''s your point?" asked Vorn.


    "...It was merely an observation," said Jehair.


    "I''ll keep it in mind," said Vorn.


    And then Kiyora appeared, blue hair flowing behind her as she descended in her school uniform. "William?! Where have you been?


    "I''ve been trying to get in contact with you forever!"


    "Yes, what is it?" asked William.


    "I''m sorry, who are you?" asked Auga.


    "I''m Kiyora Yagos, Dreaming Goddess; I''ve got business with my champion," said Kiyora. "Now, first, what is it with you calling on my power?


    "This whole place is seeped in dreams and intersects with my world, but I''ve been shut out. I swear someone has been embezzling my power or something because this makes no sense."


    "I was wondering when you would show up," said William. "How can I help?"


    "I''ve been getting a lot of reports from Seathorius of strange movements," said Kiyora. "And some mention the dead rising, though only after everyone is gone.


    "I sent scouts after them, and they are all marching by stealth to a place called Blackfear."


    "A move by Neral Dinis, perhaps?" asked Jehair.


    "Or by Sylvar," said Vorn.


    "I don''t care who it is, Will," said Kiyora. "There''s a village near here that has serious problems.


    "I just returned from it, and all the children disappeared. There was also a rat problem, and several other villages had the same problem. So take care of it."


    "Wait, so there''s an undead army rising, and you''re assigning me to kill rats?" asked William.


    "It''s on the way," said Kiyora. "It''s important. Geeze, you need to stop getting so deadset on grand events. Undead zombie armies are great fun to kill off.


    "But it''s not good if everyone is eaten by rats."


    "This is the first I heard of it. And I went through not long ago," said Jehair.


    "And who are you?" asked Kiyora.


    "I am Jehair," said Jehair.


    "Let me guess, you''re a secretly evil guest star," said Kiyora.


    "I prefer to think of myself as an objective observer," said Jehair.


    "Well, observe somewhere else," said Kiyora. "William already does that."


    "I''m on my way," said William. "Auga, Vorn-"


    "We''ll come with you," said Vorn. "This is the sort of thing we''ve got to handle, too. And I think I may know the village she means." What did that mean?


    "Great, I''m out of here," said Kiyora.


    And she was gone in a flash.


    Auga thought and then turned. "You go on ahead."


    "What about you?" asked William.


    "I''ll deal with the Babarassians personally," said Auga.


    "Wait one moment," said William. "I was given a letter for you and Vorn. Take this."


    Auga took it.


    Then William turned and gave Vorn his letter. Vorn pocketed it. "I''ll look at it when I get a chance. If this thing doesn''t go well, it won''t matter what Uncle wants."


    "He is the head of the Family, Vorn," said William.


    "Yeah, and I can''t think about letters when I''m outside," said Vorn. "You need to be in the right mindset when you read these things. Otherwise, you rush off and do something stupid.


    "Whatever it is, it wasn''t sent by faster methods. So, he doesn''t want a public display and doesn''t feel the need to rush it. You have to learn to take it easy sometimes. Rushing things is only going to make you operate badly.


    "Good luck, Auga.


    William turned to Auga. "What about the slaves?"


    "I''ll pick my targets," said Auga.


    And then Auga Gabriel leaped into the air and transformed into a giant, red dragon. Her scales gleamed as she beat her wings and flapped skyward with a roar. Jehair stared in shock. "Auga is a dragon?!"


    "Yes," said William. "Didn''t you know?"


    "Can we just go?" asked Vorn.


    And so they headed out as Auga flew across the sky at breakneck pace beneath an onslaught of wind. What was Jehair so worked up about?

 Chapter 160 - Eleven: Icebergs

    A chill wind flowed out over the waters of the south edge of the Haldrenian straight. It blew through the locks of Kata''s brown hair, causing her to bring her fur cloak closer. She had let it fly free for a time; on Tanith''s advice, she''d said it had looked better. And Tanith was glad she was taking the advice because without the braids...


    If only Tanith could get some other kind of haircut. Something more foreign. Harlenorian long hair didn''t really suit the dark skin. Maybe with some hair tied above her head, that would be nice.


    Nevermind.


    Elranor had seen a heavy frost over the land, distantly visible beyond the burgs. Kata said it got thicker the deeper in you went. Usually, Furbearers were the only ones to cross that far. More than a few caught their death fishing out here. They were beneath magnificent pillars of frozen water.


    But first, they had to get past the bergs. Like long fingers of ice, they rose into the air. The breath came from Tanith''s mouth in steam as they neared them.


    Kata and Sokar were with her, clad in heavy fur as well. Kata looked around at the ice as they drew steadily through the bergs. The ship they were taking was a shallow-bottomed longboat Sokar had chosen. The oars groaned as they slipped between two great towers of ice.


    Here lay the Incarnation of the Land in final repose. Waiting to return and deliver the people of the land true freedom.


    Or so it was said. Tanith had never cared, having only heard the legend in passing. Her interest in the Incarnation died when Anoa killed him with his bare hands. He wasn''t a threat after that. Neral Dinis had become the primary benefactor of the Furbearers then.


    "We shouldn''t be out here, Sokar," said Kata.


    "What''s the problem? We''re making good time," said Sokar, honing his knife with a smile. "Kata and I used to sail out here all the time, looking for the Incarnation of the Land."


    That old wives tale again?


    "When was this?" asked Tanith.


    "We were eight," said Sokar. "Though Tavish came out here fishing with us once. To get a look at things and learn our ways of passage."


    "I meant when the Incarnation died," said Tanith. "There aren''t a lot of specific dates." Very few historical documents mentioned specific dates from that period. William should have bothered recording time save in the most general of scopes. And some of the chronology was outright wrong when you read his documents.


    The Khasmir Campaign had been much longer than he''d made it seem. He''d been very introverted during that period. Mostly, he had just focused on his job and done very well at it. Kusher had always liked him much more than the others. When they hadn''t been discussing philosophy, they''d been killing demons.


    And they''d been heroes to the people for it. Danger, blood, fame, and ale, everything a warrior needed. Those had been some of the happiest days of Tanith''s life, but she couldn''t go on fighting the way she had. It wouldn''t work twice; that was a thing about magic.


    "He didn''t die," said Kata. "And I still believe in him."


    "You''re fooling yourself," said Tanith. "Anoa killed him in single combat on the edge of Qor''Dana. Everybody agrees they fought, and Anoa was on a rampage. He would never have let him live."


    "The Incarnation of the Land won that fight," said Kata. "He saved Qor''Dana. Why do you think Anoa didn''t burn it down? Because he couldn''t."


    "No, no, he did not," said Tanith, who thought it had been a bad move. "At best, he stopped Anoa from gaining total and final vengeance."


    "The Incarnation was trying to save Qor''Dana," said Sokar. "And he did."


    "It doesn''t matter," said Tanith. "Anoa had already won by that point.


    "He already ruled this whole place. He killed him and chose to spare them.


    "You''re talking about a later Incarnation of the Land. The one which came about after the fall of the Tarasifian Empire."


    "There was more than one?" asked Kata.


    "Yes," said Tanith. "Anoa killed one, possibly several times, and lost control of Harlenor. He was the elves'' go-between, controlled opposition.


    "He forced Tarasif into peace for a bit, was shot in the back to start a war, was reincarnated, and came here. If I have the time right. The records I got during my raids differed a lot."


    "So... you mean he might be reincarnated instead of coming out of the ice," said Kata.


    "I don''t know or care," said Tanith. "He''s not my god, just one of Anoa''s enemies. Ancient history, really. I only know about him because I was researching the history of Saint Nendas of Tarasif and compiling it.


    "The Incarnation of the Land is mentioned in many records, but he never takes center stage. That''s never been how he operated. That is exactly why he could never win. If you, Sokar, had stayed in the background, you''d never be important."


    "How do you know all this?" asked Sokar.


    "I read books," said Tanith. "Why don''t you visit me in Ran Telus is over. Or Carn Gable, we''ve got a lot of documents you could read there. Duke Vanion and my Father share a passion for history."


    "I might," said Kata. "So, what do you know about the fight between Anoa and the Incarnation?"


    "No idea," said Tanith, "Anoa the Bright has very few actual records on him. Most of our earliest sources date years after his death. And most of them are elven. Literacy was low when Anoa II took the throne.


    "He was the one who built all the roads and really organized things. That''s where our records start, and he rarely writes about his Father. When he does, it''s always focusing on how he handled famines and logistics.


    "Anoa''s status as the ultimate warrior was undisputed. He probably didn''t think it was worth mentioning. Anyway, you won''t find the Incarnation of the Land here. The only thing you''re going to see inside those icebergs is your own reflection."


    "Well, I don''t believe it!" said Kata. "Maybe things are that bleak in Harlenor, but my people have done pretty well so far. I''ll bet he''ll return any day now."


    "Believe what you want," said Tanith.


    She watched the rowers continue their work as they slipped on through large bergs. Sokar''s plan was to get out near the Babarassian encampment here. He wanted to assess the defenses and take it if they could.


    "Are you alright, Tanith?" asked Kata. "You aren''t acting yourself."


    "Because I''ve just helped foreigners assassinate a Lord of Harlenor," said Tanith.


    "Rius deserved it," said Sokar.


    "It doesn''t work that way," said Tanith. "Yes, Rius deserved it, but taking him out could backfire for House Gabriel. That''s why William wanted to keep the structure. You start knocking off nobles, and you get massive wars.


    "It shouldn''t have happened. We shouldn''t have had to do it.


    "If that idiot had just done his job, this never would have happened. He just took his bribes and invited other people in to fix his problems. He wasn''t at his post. He abandoned his post and let the enemy in!"


    "I guess we did something like that," said Sokar.


    "No, you didn''t," said Tanith. "You were stupid, but you were good. You didn''t get what you were doing. You didn''t know better, but Rius did know better or should have.


    "You know what the difference between a stupid person and a simple person is?"


    "What does that have to do with anything?" asked Kata.


    "A simple person doesn''t understand," said Tanith. "A stupid person refuses to understand.


    "A simple person you can teach if you knock them out of their illusions. But you can''t teach a stupid person. It doesn''t matter what happens; they''ll keep believing what they want to believe. And they won''t care at all if it''s true or not."


    "Well, what would you call a person who chooses to believe in something to try and make it real?" said Kata.


    Tanith shrugged. "A hero."


    Tanith said no more and bowed her head to look at the boards of the ship. Every moment now seemed a funeral procession as the currents picked up and they have pulled away. The skies were darker than ever, and major rain would soon occur.


    "Look..." said Kata. "We''re being drawn by a current now.


    "Something is calling us. Do you hear the wind and water?"


    The wind was howling now, and Tanith remembered the snows of Ruscow as she saw villages burning. The smile of a skull-faced her as she saw only herself. Memories came to her of the good feeling she got when she saw blood on a cook''s knife. She''d fallen in love with that feeling when she''d seen Agravain cut himself.


    He quilled before blood and wanted not to enter battle. But Tanith had wanted it more than anything.


    She''d watched Agravain, that spineless idiot, ask for his inheritance early. He had taken Father''s money and spent it on frivolous pursuits. And he, the miserable wretch, had been accepted back. All while Sunthred, ever dutiful, was treated the same.


    Ridiculous.


    She''d have killed Agravain there if Mother hadn''t stopped her. And other Lords had mocked Father.


    Tanith had made it her mission to erase the shame of that spineless, effeminate weakling. And she had done so, initiating such carnage on the Calishans as would never be forgotten.


    There were burial grounds for satyrs. Mass graves where they had all been exterminated, their bodies were thrown. Men, women, children, and even babies were all put to the sword by the people of the land long ago. She had spoken to some of those that remained as they lived a desolate life in the highlands.


    They had worshipped Tamar once before the Urishia had wiped them clean. Whole families were slaughtered to the man by their people just in case.


    All those innocent lives were twisted by things beyond their comprehension. Exterminated by spite by these brutal torture mongers. Baltoth had brought by shedding the blood of those who might disrupt order. And Tanith had avenged them, burning her way through the fools who thought they could escape it. As they had had no mercy toward the satyrs, so too had Tanith had no mercy toward them.


    Perhaps the spirits of the dead had driven her to seek that vengeance. To make way for greater glories and bring order from chaos. Looking at the emblem of Kreshlak in her hand, Tanith laughed as she raised it upward to the sky. And for the first time in what seemed forever, Tanith felt true joy. Not mirth or enjoyment of beer, but genuine happiness.


    Her cause was just.


    She fought for the honor of House Gabriel.


    Even as she did, their vessel moved fast until, at last, they crashed against the side of a barge. The ship did not break, but they were beach by chance. The force of it nearly threw Tanith from her feet. The wind howled ever worse as it grew dark and the snow fell in torrents.


    Sokar was setting up a shelter, but Tanith stood her ground, and the winds gave way before her. The snow did not touch them while she stood among them. And high above the clouds, Tanith beheld a figure, armored and within a chariot with wheels of fire. For a moment, it raced across the sky.


    "The spirits are trying to tell us something," said Kata.


    "That''s your imagination," said Tanith. "These spirits did not help you before; why would they help you now? What do you know of them, and what do they owe you?"


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    Now they stood in the eye of a great storm, and Tanith stood gazing upwards. Around them was an island of ice, slowly chipping the surface away. Kata stared up at her as the shelter was raised and the firewood was started.


    Then, looking past Tanith, she saw something. "Look there..."


    "What is it?" asked Kata.


    "There''s someone on the ice," said Kata before snatching up a club. "We''ve been drawn here to save him."


    "You are wasting your time, Kata. He''s dead," said Tanith.


    "That may be the sign," said Sokar.


    "No, he might be being kept alive by magic or have sealed himself within," said Kata, and she struck the ice. "We''ve got to at least try."


    "Then do so," said Tanith.


    So it was that the crew began to hack at the ice, trying to force their way through toward a vague figure. Tanith stood by, and the wind and snow did not touch them. Yet the ship was pulled away and broken. On and on, the Furbearers labored to retrieve a corpse, yet the effort was not in itself meaningless.


    And then the ice broke.


    Out of it came a skeletal, frozen corpse clad in ragged clothes that had once been of fine silk. The broken form of a dragon could be seen beyond. Then, in a moment, the snow and wind faded, and they were standing on a plane of snowy ice. An entire peninsula formed from the unnatural storm.


    But Kata saw only the corpse. Her face was horrified, for she now saw in an omen of her own people. Or so Tanith guessed. But Sokar''s eyes widened as one who had seen a vision of a legacy once glorious. A legacy that would soon come again.


    "He''s just a corpse," said Kata in horror.


    "That is not our people, Kata," said Sokar with relish in his tone. "It is our salvation.


    "The Harlenorians cannot be relied upon. But another power served us well in the past. A force by which we kept the Harlenorians at bay for an age.


    "This body is between life and death.


    "So we should seek power from Neral Dinis, our old companion."


    Old companions? Was that some kind of term of endearment.


    Tanith halted and saw a book, perfectly preserved. There was also staff to one side and a strange device. Quickly kneeling down, she picked it up. "...Look at these clothes and this book. These are nothing like you would see in Harlenor or Calisha. So it must have been the Incarnation from Tarasif." She looked at the book, opening it. "Perfectly preserved.


    "Let me see...


    This could be very helpful to my research. I know these letters. This is an account of the Incarnation of the Land''s histories. It looks like it predates the fall of the old temple system.


    "Apparently, he realized he was being used as a political tool and made a run for it to set up shop somewhere else. The land had become hostile to him. He realized he would have to initiate an unprecedented bloodletting to take it back. So he sought to go west, seeking a land without war. Rather like your people did.


    "From the looks of things, he didn''t find it.


    "He tried mediating disputes, but no one acknowledged his authority. He tried making friends, but the land was torn by war. And people only respected warriors. Several times, he found people who asked him to mediate, but he always moved for compromise. As a result, many of his verdicts were unjust.


    "He did strip an evil King of power and end a war in Calisha involving countries that no longer exist. But doing it made him unwelcome by both sides.


    "His credibility destroyed, friendless and alone, he came here on the winds. He highly praises your people and how you cooperated to survive the God War''s bitter aftermath. This must have been just after Zeya and Elranor killed Typhos; that''s the usual marking place for the end.


    "The Incarnation of the Land..." Tanith halted as she realized how utterly foreign this person was from him. "He was a monster.


    "He abandoned his friends, nation, people, and honor. All for the sake of impossible dreams even he didn''t believe in. And so he died alone in the ice, abandoned in turn.


    "A fitting end for such a fool." But there was no venom in her voice. "Though I suppose he was an honest one."


    Kata stared and looked at the handwriting. She looked to Tanith. "You can read that?! You''re fluent in Tarasifian?"


    "I learned to read it by threatening the priests to teach me," said Tanith.


    "What will you do with the book?" asked Sokar, looking at her.


    "Translate it, maybe," said Tanith. "If I ever have the inclination and the wars settle down. But I''m currently working on a different project, one much more interesting than his. So it''ll take a lot of studying to figure it out."


    "We can''t just leave his corpse here," said Kata. "We''ve got to do something."


    "We''ll take the body to shore and bury him," said Sokar. "We''re sure to have gotten attention after that. And the boat is done anyway. So take the supplies, and let''s run for it.


    "I will take the staff and give it to Father when we come to him. It will be given a place of honor."


    And they did, hurrying along the thick ice toward the shore. Sokar knew the place well, and they got undercover when they reached the trees. They stole along the shore, carrying the body on a stretcher. Sokar held the staff close by, but he felt uncomfortable while Kata kept looking at the oceans.


    The wind seemed to sing as it flowed through the ice, and Tanith thought the song seemed that of the merfolk. And it resounds through each of them in turn and settles on Kata the most. She listened keenly when Sokar turned toward war.


    But the song never came to Tanith.


    And at last, they saw their enemy.


    The Babarassians had set up a very large compound. Many trees had been felled, and some were left lying. These had made a crude settlement where, even now, people were docking. Numerous well-dressed men were speaking on the shore and were very well-armed.


    "Put the Incarnation down here," said Sokar. "We will bury him later.


    "Tanith, can we raid that?"


    Tanith saw the lack of walls on the inland side. "Yes, but we can''t fight them all. Well, unless you want me to do all the work. If I were you, I would try to get your people out.


    "Find where they are, free them, and get under cover.


    "Find a safe place to hole up or make a stand and get someone to scout out where everything is."


    "I already know," said Kata. "I can hear the spirits of this place whispering.


    "They''ve dug a pit where they keep everyone waiting for the sale. But their plans to sell us have failed because of all the Harlenorian attacks. They''ve been fighting, and Father has beaten some of them. Many have released the slaves and fled; they say the Gods have commanded it.


    "Some have left to seek different merchant work. But the rest are determined to keep fighting."


    "How are you hearing them?" asked Sokar.


    "Maybe some part of the Incarnation of the Land''s power has rubbed off on us," said Kata. "Follow me. They say that doom is coming, and we must save our people soon."


    "Do it," said Sokar to their men.


    And they did follow, and the snows themselves seemed to conspire to let them pass easily over the land. The hills above them, hiding the way to Ran Telus, came nearer. And soon, Kata came to the pit she spoke of, completely out of sight. A guard was by there and looked about to speak, but Sokar bore him down from behind. Then he knocked him unconscious. Tanith broke the lock, and the cell was opened.


    Beneath them were many people caked in mud and ankle-deep in water.


    "Lower a rope," said Sokar. "Women and children up first. Come quickly; there''s not much time. If anyone cannot come up themselves, we''ll send someone down to get you."


    "Prince Sokar, Princess Kata," said one. "You''ve returned to us."


    "Just Sokar, please," said Sokar. "Tanith, keep watch."


    And they did.


    Wind and gusts began to kick up at that moment as the land itself conspired to their victory. The Babarassians were all drawn indoors. While other Furbearers kept as servants escaped outside doors. It was too perfect, too devoid of blood or pain.


    And yet beautiful in a very childish way.


    Now, how to slaughter Babarassians?


    But they didn''t do anything of the sort.


    Sokar, Kata, and Tanith spent three days freeing slaves. Kata would know where the weaknesses were, and they would save the slaves. Over and over, it happened, and soon became known that Chieftain Osris Their Father had been fighting and retaking several villages from the Babarassians. House Kern had taken no action but was bolstering forces on the border.


    "Why to take no action?" asked Tanith. "He could have finished you off in a day. No offense."


    "Maybe he doesn''t want our blood on his hands," said Sokar. "I doubt it was out of kindness."


    The people were sent away as they continued. The Babarassians sent out many searches, but the snow kept them hemmed in. Their ships could not leave, so the land itself conspired to keep them in place.


    For what?


    "We should free everyone before we attack," said Tanith. "And the Babarassians might just kill them rather than let them recaptured. I would do it if I was sure I''d lose them."


    "Are you serious?" asked Kata.


    "Yeah, why wouldn''t I?" asked Tanith. "I''m on my own, in hostile territory. If these slaves escape, they''ll return and help my enemies either as laborers or soldiers. Killing them might also demoralize the people who came to rescue them.


    "Our loss is their gain."


    "Like the pirates," thought Kata, looking out over a frozen lake slowly thawing. "Could we call for help?"


    "We could," said Tanith. "But I don''t think that''d be a good idea. See, if you sort this out yourself, you''ll be respected for it. If you have to call for help, you''ll owe someone a favor, and people will think you''re too weak to defend yourself.


    "So they''ll just try to bribe your protector or wait for them to be distracted and attack you again. And, if you do owe a protector fealty, they will want payment at some point. Probably a lot more payment than they bought you for.


    "A day or two ago, I''d do it in a heartbeat?


    "Now?


    "I think you have a chance."


    "It might be our only option, though," said Sokar. "We''re stronger than we were, but I don''t think we can fight a big war. More Babarassians might arrive. Heck, there might be more on the way. I''m sure my brother and Father have been fighting. And we could go to them for help, but...


    "For all I know, they''re already dead." Sokar slumped in seeming defeat, and Tanith wondered how to help him.


    "You could go to my family, House Telus," said Tanith. "Father is an experienced warrior and ally of House Gabriel. He''s rich and powerful and has recently viewed King Gavin as a rival. Especially since this move on the Furbearers could be considered a proxy war.


    "If House Kern repossesses your land and gives it to veterans, it would put you in a bad position. William''s home, Carn Gable has a western border with the capital, Carn Garsh. And they''ve pulled troops from it recently. There is yet to be a member of House Gabriel present there anymore. Gavin could lay siege to the place quickly enough if there was a full-scale war.


    "If we were fighting a border war with House Kern, we wouldn''t be able to help them."


    "What does all that mean?" asked Kata.


    "It means House Telus is interested in ensuring the Furbearers don''t get wiped out," said Tanith. "And since you border House Kern as well as them, you could play one against the other.


    "You don''t want any faction to win here, Kata. Even if a ''good'' faction won completely, they''d eventually become bad. They''d get complacent or corrupt, or an unworthy generation would succeed over a great one. And sooner or later, they''d conquer you simply because you were there.


    "Nations don''t have friendships. Only interests."


    "Do you have friendships?" asked Kata.


    "I have uh... friendship interests," said Tanith, shifting and feeling a blush on her face. "And William." William was special; somehow, he and Kusher.


    "You love him, don''t you?" asked Kata.


    "What?" asked Tanith. How did that even begin to make sense?


    "Well, he seems to be the only person you won''t ever turn against," said Kata. "He doesn''t really strike me as just a friend for you. At least not, in the same way you are friends with Farwa or Rius or... well, Suran."


    "I guess," said Tanith. "I mean, I may marry him someday. I like the guy, I enjoy his company, and we play off one another well. Our houses are rich and respected, and it would be an ideal strategic alliance."


    "Princess Kata," said a Furbearer. "A dragon is coming!"


    Kata looked up. "Let me see."


    They rushed to the top of the hill they were behind and looked out. Sure enough, there was a vast dragon with red scales flying.


    It descended toward one of the Babarassian ports with a roar. A wave of flame utterly consumed the ships. Screams were heard as men chose between a fiery death and a freezing one. Darting above the arrows of the Babarassians, the dragon dropped like a stone. As she did, she torched a line of flame in the Babarassian houses.


    The flames burst through frost as the dragon surged to other towns to do the same there. Men rushed out of the new construction, trying to put it out with snow as the wind picked up. Five Babarassian colonies were being made, and each one lit up. Soon enough, the flames surged high into the air.


    Then, as the Babarassians fled out of them, now homeless and without escape, the dragon came. Her flames descended on them, burning them to utter ashes instantly. Their arrows bounced off her armor as she burned them all. Some fled, but none escaped, for she dove to and fro, obliterating everything. Then, landing momentarily on a hilltop, she roared triumphantly and flew off, her wings making a noise like thunder.


    Everyone was dead.


    The colonies were in utter ruins, and there was no sound save the crackling of burning wood.


    Cheers resounded from the observing Furbearers.


    "...I can''t say that wasn''t efficient, Kata," said Sokar. "But get off the high places! That dragon might come back. We must get to Father at once."


    "No," said Kata. "First, we have a friend to bury."


    "What the hell was that!" said Tanith. "After all the trouble, we went to train you into a decent troop of soldiers; a dragon wipes them out! There wasn''t any carnage! You didn''t do any of it for yourself!"


    "What does it matter how we free our people?" asked Kata. "If it happens, it happens."


    "But it does matter!" said Tanith. "The Babarassians were your nemesis! No one is going to remember a couple of skirmishes in Ascorn! A few years from now, people will say Prince Sokar assassinated Lord Rius. Then got bailed out by a total deus ex machina!


    "There wasn''t any buildup to this! No quest to get the dragon on your side!


    "William just has tea with his Uncle, and they take the leash of their pet dragon to kill all their enemies!"


    "They have a pet dragon?" asked Kata, voice dumbstruck.


    "Varsus convinced one to start working for them," said Tanith. "Nobody knows where it lives. I wouldn''t; they don''t like me."


    "Well, then it follows naturally from what came before," said Kata. "William saved us; we''ve freed everyone. So let''s just let things go back to normal and-"


    Wrong answer.


    "Kata!" said Tanith. "This is what happens when you are good but weak!


    "Just because you''ve survived this long doesn''t mean it will last. You''ve got to prepare for another war."


    Silence.


    "Look, that''s a good point," said Sokar. "But there is nothing we can do about that now."


    "We''ll bury the Incarnation of the Land, get in contact with Father, and see if we can avoid this ever happening again."


    And so they returned across the snow. They were now trudging through them with greater difficulty. Their food supplies were still enough, but they were so tired. And at last, they came to the Incarnation of the Land.


    Laying his body on a hilltop overlooking the Babarassians, they built a high cairn over him. The labor was long and difficult, for there were few here. But Kata prayed by his corpses as they did. And torches were lit by it while the fires of his final victory settled against the shore. As they did, they began a Furbearer funeral rite.


    "The Incarnation of the Land inspired me," said Sokar. "He taught me that when you wait for another to save you, others pay the price." S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The Incarnation of the Land inspired me," said Kata. "He gave me hope when I lay in that cell. And that hope was answered."


    This was an ancient tradition among them. One that Tanith had thought long since dead, but apparently, they were reviving. She''d never seen a ceremony like this in real life. And now she had to say something. But she was not his friend and had a very low opinion of him. But who else could serve in her place?


    "The Incarnation of the Land was a great hero in his own way," said Tanith. "But of how he inspired me, I shall say nothing." It wouldn''t be appropriate.


    "That''s probably for the best," said Sokar. "Now, we must at once meet with my Father.


    "Our friends have secured our southern front for the moment. If we secure the one to the north, we may not need to fight a battle at all.


    "Let''s go."


    And everyone sprang into action.


    Tanith decided to just let things play out. These people had their own views, and she could respect that.

 Chapter 161 - Thirteen: Castle Baltiran

    The land had gone from less good to downright bad and rained half the time.


    Exposed roots overgrew the path, and no Lords dwelled in this place. Here and there, they saw ruined castles that had once stood tall and proud. Now, however, they were falling into ruins, and vines were overrunning them. The land was choked with brambles, and the roads were falling apart. Once or twice, William tripped on them and nearly sprained a leg. Vorn found it amusing, much to William''s irritation.


    He hated feeling so undignified; he hated being cold, being dirty. And more and more, he wished for a decent inn, even if he would never admit it. Jehair kept looking at him, expecting him to ask, but he insisted on caves and what shelter could be found. He was not going to let Felix beat him on this. The only hospitality William accepted was from villages he healed the sick in.


    That was nice enough. The food was much less than he was used to, but they helped by hunting wild pigs. There were always more boars, and Jehair was very good at finding them.


    The only consolation was they''d saved a lot of money. Even so, William hoped Wrynncurth would be willing to listen to him when he arrived. His present state was travel-worn and beaten.


    "Problem with heavy armor, eh, Will?" asked Vorn, helping him up and dusting him off.


    "Yes," said William. "You learn to deal with it."


    Massacre spent a great deal of time eating those nearest to the path. It slowed them down, but it seemed like it had to be done. The pavings of the roads disappeared entirely, and they no longer saw merchants. The villages were well-fortified, and the people more cautious. Vorn often communicated with them, speaking of maps and plans and giving orders.


    "Auga has been gone for some time," said William in the inn of one. "How does she intend to fix the problem of the Babarassians?"


    "Find their settlements," said Vorn grimly. "Burn them all."


    "What about the slaves they already have?" asked William.


    "Not our problem," said Vorn with a bit of a snappish sound to him. "Look, William, I know you like them. But we can''t let Babarassian colonies get set up.


    "We''ve got to wipe them and face, or we''ll look weak. The Furbearers had their chance to resist, and they botched it. You''ve already gotten them out of debts you didn''t have to.


    "Dead innocents is the cost of war.


    "It''s why I never wanted to get into the business."


    William looked at one of the castles and then at Vorn. For a moment, he was hesitant but decided to just asked. "Shouldn''t we rebuild some of those castles?"


    "Nobody lives near them," said Vorn. "This land is given over to the Druids to ensure the land doesn''t fail. Originally, it was ruled by Lilas Asgar, but he sold it to the crown and left. Most of the other nobles had been killed. But Lilas never lived in any of those castles anyway.


    "So King Andoa gave it over to the Druids."


    "You mean to say that Harlenorian people were sold as chattel," said William.


    "It''s his noble title," said Vorn. "He can do what he wants with it."


    "No, he can''t," said William. "It is a sacred duty, a sacred trust.


    "To throw away the land you rule like a silver candlestick is an outrage."


    "Look, it was completely unprofitable, and he didn''t have the money to make it profitable," said Vorn. "We own the castles, of course; House Gabriel insisted on that. But we can''t hew trees without consulting them except for places we own.


    "And the towns mind their own business under the eye of House Korlac."


    "Well, why not just rebuild the fortresses and post garrisons?" said William. "They might become occupied by bandits."


    "Now that you mention it, Dad had to chase some out of several," said Vorn. "Alright, I''ll talk with the people out here. We can move some people out there to maintain them."


    "Why don''t we go out there ourselves?" said William. "You can order some people to go help you check them out. If nothing else, we can get a floor plan and clear some of them out."


    "Right," said Vorn. "Good thinking. There''s no sense in letting them get overgrown.


    "I''ll go see to it now. Jehair can help us out here."


    "Be wary of Jehair," said Felix suddenly.


    "Why?" asked Vorn. "What''s the problem?"


    Felix checked for plants again; he''d done that a lot and then checked outside the walls. "She has her own objective here," said Felix. "She knows everything but has done very little. Knowing requires action."


    Vorn nodded. "Alright, I''ll do some digging on that after you head out. Communicate with Atravain; it''s no problem. We''ll figure out what''s up."


    "Don''t do it in front of any flowers," said William. "She can listen by them."


    Jehair, as it turned out, was out on business. So instead, they headed out with Massacre and a group of men toward the castles. Without Jehair, it took some doing, but some local men knew enough to help. There was also a group of three mercenaries from Kalthak. They were Isamu, Urus, and a very beautiful orange-haired girl named Oresa. Oresa wore too few clothes to not be magical and had huge breasts and very wide hips. But there was a kind of purity to her despite these things.


    He wondered how they had come out all this way.


    "What are you all doing out here?" asked William.


    "My sister disappeared some time ago," said Oresa. "I was hoping to find news of her. I''ve been healing who I can."


    "I wanted to see it," said Oresa. "So we walked over there, and then we walked back. It was a great adventure."


    "We spent two days walking through the mud," said Isamu. "And we didn''t fight anything."


    Their clothes agreed with their story, except for Oresa. She was flawless and undirtied. Her hair wasn''t even out of place. William saw no reason to press the matter.


    The castle got closer, and soon, they found a moat overgrown with lilies. Vines were scaling up the walls. The gates had long since withered away, but someone had set up a functioning drawbridge.


    "What is the meaning of this?" asked William. "Even if this device was magical, there''s no reason it ought to be so well preserved. Vorn?"


    "Bandits couldn''t have done this," said Vorn. "The Druids are operating out here."


    "The druids might be using it for their own purposes," said Urus. "It is a logical place to shelter and meet."


    "Well, what''s wrong with that?" asked Vorn.


    "Vorn," said William. "If they are, they haven''t asked permission. The castle is ours. We ought to be paid or at least notified."


    "Look, are we storming this place or what?" asked Isamu.


    "No," said William. "We''ll enter with the servants and pull down vines or underbrush. We''re here to ensure it doesn''t get pulled down by nature." He looked back to the men, several dozen. "If you run into anyone, don''t talk or fight; just alert the others."


    And so began the basic maintenance of a very old castle. It soon became apparent that many parts of it were overgrown. Vines and weeks were choking everything, and more people had to be called in. Moving about, Urus stooped low very suddenly and picked something up.


    "What is it?" asked William, taking it.


    "Look at this," said Urus. "It''s a token often used by druids of Laevian.


    "It bears the symbol of a Leaf, a flame around it, water drops above, and rock below it. I have no idea what it means, however."


    "Will, you close with Rusara, is that a thing?" asked Vorn.


    William took it. "Yes, I''ve seen her.


    "It''s no great secret. But the markings are hard to sketch out on a stone and require special techniques to be legitimate. These ones have such markings.


    "They leave it places to demonstrate that someone was here."


    "There''s a cooking fire or what''s left of it here," said Oresa. "It''s been used several times."


    Felix took the stone. "This thing was etched recently; the cuts are brand new."


    William halted. "... This means that the druids have been regularly using this place."


    "My guess is that someone had a meeting here," said Urus. "And they were interrupted by us. They weren''t expecting Sir Vorn to be here, and whatever their goal, they did not want to discuss it."


    "I''ve picked up traces," said Isamu. "Well hidden, but they missed a few. There were quite a few people. Those vines were damaged by a lot of people going down them."


    William followed and looked down it. They were damaged but thick and strong, so it would have taken a lot of droids. "Look around for any more signs. We''ll continue our mission."


    The mission did continue.


    Walls were cleared off, and hedges trimmed. So some were so beautiful that Vorn decided to leave them, taking up most of the courtyard. A few minor repairs were also affected, putting stonework back on one another. But the labor was long and hard, and once again, that sense of misery was one of them. Some will fight tooth and nail to prevent them from finishing their goal of tearing away vines.


    The passages were a labyrinth, and many parts had fallen in. Oresa looked at all of them with interest. William, for his part, preferred to walk behind her while doing the manual labor.


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    "What was this castle called?" asked Oresa.


    "Baltiran," said Vorn, who was sketching out a floorplan. "I think. Though it might be a few miles west. Lilas had never lived here; his family had moved out to the towns a long time ago. It is easier to do business that way.


    "Course, with the Wood Elves shutting off all transit, it all goes to the King''s Road.


    "This place is huge.


    "That settles it; I''m calling for a garrison to be set up here. Here and in every other place. I don''t like the druids stepping over the normal chain of command. And if they have no bad intentions, I''d prefer it if they told me to my face. Hiding this is bad business."


    "The Druids of Laevian aren''t businessmen," said Urus. "They want to preserve nature.


    "Perhaps their priorities have shifted."


    "That is too far," said William. "From Felix, I should take such an implication. You, however, are only walking alongside this fellowship."


    "William is right," said Vorn. "If you have any statements like that, you privately bring them to me."


    "Forgive me," said Urus. Isamu looked about to flare up, but a dark-skinned man behind him tapped him on the shoulder. "It was not my place."


    "...Alright," said Vorn. "So let''s say the Druids are keeping a few secrets. That''s the way things are, and there''s no point in questioning them." And he pointed down toward the courtyard. "Not until we have something to discuss.


    "So we''ll leave our people here to finish things up, head back to the village, have a few drinks, and talk about old times."


    Isamu shrugged. "Fine by me.


    "This trip has bored me stiff anyway. Let''s head to Blackfear and kill undead after this, Oresa."


    "That sounds good," said Oresa.


    When they were gone.


    William looked to Vorn. "Do you trust these people?"


    "Foreign mercenaries are used a lot in Antion, Will," said Vorn. "Easier to control people who don''t have divided loyalties. Now, Father sticks to the old tradition, but I prefer the new way."


    "Foreigners care nothing for this land, Vorn," said William. "Use mercenaries without commanding their respect, and they''ll dispose of you."


    "Duke Vanion does fine by it," said Vorn.


    "Yes, but they are Harlenorians," said William. "And much of Father''s efforts are dedicated to ensuring their loyalty. He makes an art form of rewarding good soldiers. All to ensure he is necessary, respected, feared, and, if possible, loved.


    "It takes much of his time to do it. And we do raise large levies of local troops for our armies. The men of Artarq fought very bravely and well in Khasmir; it is a credit to their blood. Mixing with foreigners has not diminished their steel yet."


    "Well, the trick is getting their loyalty while making it advance their plans," said Vorn with a shrug. "You may be right. I''ll double-check my men when I have the time.


    "No sense in being careless."


    Only once they were back, Vorn got back to work with new vigor. The towns were much nicer than the castles, and William did not like that. There were decadent pleasure houses and more women like Maius or Mia. He thought he saw them here or there. Messages were sent, and William observed Vorn organizing the rationing of supplies. He also ordered new crops to be planted in fallow fields to make up for the coming shortages. And areas were cleared to handle more.


    "Lilas owns most of the businesses here," said Vorn. "See, he owned the economy before he sold the place. So he gets his cut anyway.


    "All the merchants here owe him money."


    "So he gets the benefit of being a Lord without the responsibilities," said William.


    "...Yeah," said Vorn, seeming odd. "Seems pretty bad."


    "I think you should pay off their debts, Vorn," said William.


    "That seems wrong," said Vorn. "He did all this business fair and square."


    "Yes," said William. "But he is getting benefits for a position he does not do the work for. When was the last time he came down here?"


    "...I don''t think he''s ever come back," said Vorn. "But he sends a lot of representatives."


    "Do you come down here often?" asked William. "Lilas has been in Ascorn this whole time. How much have you heard about things out here?"


    "Yes," said Vorn. "Yeah, I think I see your point. I could pay a lot of their debts.


    "But things aren''t really that simple. I got to work out a lot of deals for this, and it''ll take time. I don''t want to make any overtures until we finish up." He paused. "Let''s get something to eat."


    "We can help with any famines," said Vorn as they drank together over a table and chess set. "Never let your populace starve, eh Will?"


    "What about Jehair?" asked William. He moved a piece.


    "Right, right," said Vorn, moving a piece. "Her.


    "What do you recommend?"


    "Nothing," said William. "She''s already done whatever she is going to do. The Druids don''t have much sway in Blackfear, and she needs me.


    "If she is planning something, I am her cover." He moved a knight.


    "What do you mean?" asked Vorn. "Her cover?"


    "Well, she''s probably already done everything she wants to," said William. "I suspect her plan, insofar as she has one, is to initiate a series of good deeds. All of them are good in their own way but calculated to set events in motion.


    "Ultimately culminating in this situation. Felix caught onto it first, of course."


    "Congratulations," said Vorn, taking his turn.


    "Thank you," said Felix.


    "Explain it," said William, moving a piece.


    "William is a credible witness," said Felix. "And Jehair calculated, based on his reports, that he was something of a milksop. As did many.


    "The general opinion was that William''s achievements were exaggerated, if not fabricated. Thus, William was expected to be a competent but harmless individual who could be led around by the nose.


    "Seathorius largely altered that."


    "Hey," said William.


    Vorn laughed, but Felix did not. "My apologies, sir."


    "It''s fine," said William.


    "Jehair was planning to use William as cover," said Felix. "He would accompany her straight to Gel Carn and play the role of a kindhearted good boy. This would give her an excellent alibi. Combined with her reputation, it would ensure no one suspected her.


    "By the time any questions were asked, the chaos would be too great to investigate.


    "However, I suspect this was a larger plan by the Druids of Laevian. Jehair is likely only the face of the operation and contact for organized crime."


    "So, what''s your plan?" asked Vorn.


    "Play my part," said William. "Keep her close and following to Gel Carn. That should keep her occupied while we fix this. I''m not important enough to play a major role. At least this way, I can keep her near.


    "When the time is right, simply have her arrested."


    "Checkmate," said Vorn, moving a piece in.


    William halted. "Oh, damn.


    "In any case, so long as everyone knows and we prevent her from getting in contact with the Druids, it should be doable. I have Massacre, Felix, and my sword; I can handle her."


    "Well, you''re better at this than I, so I''ll take your word for it," said Vorn. "Another game?"


    "Of course," said William.


    "So uh, you ever meet Saphra Delenay?" asked Vorn.


    "No, why do you ask?" asked William.


    "She''s a real beauty, only a bit older than you," said Vorn, resetting the board. "Not very powerful now. But I''ve got the sense that''s going to change.


    "Could be a smart match for someone one day."


    Things were looking up. But William decided to change the subject and remembered, at last, the letter. "That reminds me, I kept forgetting everything going on. But Father gave a message for you as well and one for Uncle."


    "You are late with the messages, aren''t you?" asked Vorn.


    "I''ve been fighting off an entire plague. All while dodging conspiracies," said William with a smile. "I plead your forgiveness."


    Vorn took it and read through it. As he did, William felt the urge to be somewhere else but stayed where he was. Looking around at the empty tavern, he saw stone walls and drab ale. Few travelers and a lot of leaks with a barmaid who kept her eyes on them.


    Vorn looked at her. "Get the others out of here, would you? I gotta talk to my cousin about something important."


    She nodded and went into the tavern. Vorn put the page down and handed it to William. "What''s this?


    "Why am I getting stepped over?"


    William read it and saw a very professional explanation that Auga was being given a position. Mainly because of better qualifications. "Stepped over; what are you talking about?"


    "Auga is being given control of Carn Gable and not me. I''m the oldest, and I''m of full blood," said Vorn. "I ought to be in it. Not my adopted sister."


    "Vorn, it''s not personal, and it is not a matter of blood," said William, thinking about how to spin this. "Father didn''t want to send Auga there any more than he did you. But it''s her bad luck."


    "Bad luck?" asked Vorn. "She''s getting an entire castle!"


    "Well, of course. Carn Gable is an integral position for our operations," said William. "If we were to be attacked by rivals in Haldren, that is where they''d hit us. Auga has military experience as well as other advantages.


    "Running Gel Carn would be wasting your talents.


    "I love the place, but it is icy, cold and mainly acts as a trade stop and border fortress. And without peace with King Gavin, it''s not even the formr. Auga''s got to take the job because she''s the only person available who fits it. Varsus has got to take care of Brisgald eventually."


    "I could run the place," said Vorn. "Just because I''m not a good fighter doesn''t mean I can''t command. And I know more than anyone here about economics."


    "That''s why we can''t give you a place just yet, Vorn," said William. "Think about what you told me; Duke Letan has a complete stranglehold on the malas trade. And the Sorcerer''s Guild is running riot here, inducing Isriath to curse people.


    "The High Priest is running get-rich-quick schemes. And someone has started distributing malas. We''ve had an entire conspiracy based on economics against it. If you get tied down running a castle in the middle of nowhere, we''ll be lost.


    "We need someone who can find a way to break House Marn''s monopoly on Savior''s Run. And also do something about all these schemes. It''s hurting Seathorius, Qor''Dana, us, and all three Harlenorian Kingdoms. Everyone in Harlenor is counting on us to figure out who is striking at the three kingdoms. And you are the only person who can do it."


    "What does Uncle need me to do?" asked Vorn.


    "Well, in the long term, we need to find the names and areas of operation for the people doing all this," said William. "Talk to any sources you can, but only take chances or meet someone with security.


    "Right now?


    "We have to deal with Baras'' Bane and the other diseases and get rid of this debt empire. Lilas seems to be using money to keep control of too many people. I can heal diseases, but I would need to figure out where to start in this merchant work.


    "Carn Gable is not going to starve; the harvests have been good.


    "The really important thing, though, is you must find out who moved all the malas to the ports. If that had gotten to Haldren, we could be facing a demonic invasion. And I''m afraid some of it could have been shipped to Escor; Magicora always orders it. You could smuggle it easily enough."


    "It could be legitimate," said Vorn.


    "Then why don''t we know about it?" asked William.


    "Long term, figure out how these black markets work. Talk to Coalmarsh and Ata in the temple if you need to investigate the temple. Both of them have been in the High Priest''s council. And we also need someone to monitor the grain supply. If something were to happen to the grain supply in Antion...


    "We''d have mass starvation. With all the other lands in chaos and a bad harvest on the horizon, you''ve got the most important job in House Gabriel."


    Vorn nodded. "Yeah, you''re right. And I''ve got the run of places like this anyway. With a bit of legwork, I could make my own castle.


    "Actually, paying off many debts from worse-off merchants could be a neat trick. It could free things up, at least.


    "What are you going to do?


    "Get Tanith out of hot water," said William with a laugh. "She stirred up a hornet''s nest when she was in Gel Carn, and it caused problems. I also have to fight in the Tournament of Kings in her place.


    "And on top of that, I have to finish writing several books worth of adventures that will not be fun to experience."


    "Rough work kid," said Vorn. "Varsus headed that way; you should talk to him about this. Dad gave him several special orders I wasn''t privy to. It has something to do with a campaign in the Blackmarsh.


    "Usual sort of secret stuff. I''d better make plans for rationing, just in case. They do that in the army, and we can do it now."


    "I don''t think Varsus is in a position to do much, but I will," said William. "Oh, and pray.


    "And get everyone else to pray. I suspect Elranor''s lack of action is more due to our failure to let him in than indifference. I expect he can make things much easier for us, and if nothing else, we can give him more to work with in a future crisis.


    "Often, those who pray to him end up in the right place at the right time.


    "This is a personal experience."


    "Father used to say something like that," said Vorn. "Yeah, you''re right. We''ve been out of communication with the old man for too long."


    William blinked. "Old man?" S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, white hair and pale skin?" asked Vorn. "That''s what everybody tells me.


    "Not young.


    "I''ve never seen him."


    "I would call him well-preserved at the worst," said William. "Anyway, we''ve lingered here too long. I''ve got to get to that village. Give me the directions and then tell Jehair to meet me at it.


    "I''ve delayed too long as it is." William paused. "Where are all the members of the Sorcerer''s Guild anyway? I''ve never seen anyone."


    "It''s sort of a secretive thing," said Vorn. "Most people who are part of it don''t advertise the fact. It''s not like Magicora; who you are on the inside is not the same as who you are out there.


    "They hate Imogen, though. Several times, they''ve caught her, and she always gets away."


    "Why?" asked William.


    "Imogen doesn''t play by the rules," said Vorn. "See, her power is stealing things, and as a Goddess, she steals metaphysical concepts.


    "So, let''s say you''re about to become a god.


    "Imogen shows up and steals some critical components. Her whole thing is unbalancing existing systems. The Sorcerer''s Guild is all about order."


    "So is Baltoth," said William.


    "Well, there is order and order," said Vorn. "Baltoth is all about public demonstrations. The Sorcerer''s Guild likes to make sure nobody knows they are being nudged.


    "But Imogen likes stirring things up and causing flareups.


    "They''ve been trying to capture her for years. Never managed it, though."


    "Well, find a way to get in contact with them," said William. "Or someone might decide to order a purge. There''s enough to justify it to power-hungry men at this point.


    "And we''ve got a lot of questions that need answers."


    "Not yet, you don''t," said Vorn. "You''ve got a meeting with the Goddess Isriath, and she just might turn you into a snake, kid." Then he ruffled William''s hair and moved off. "I''ll meet you there after I finish things up.


    "I''m gonna find a way to pay back House Marn while we''re at it."


    And he headed off.


    William sat in his chair and smiled. Then he stood up and was a Paladin once more.

 Chapter 162 - Fourteen: The Journey South

    The clouds stood overhead, ready to burst forth in a downpour. It was like a storm William had seen earlier, but stronger and worse. As he walked, he mulled over events, trying to think of how Jehair fit into all this. What was her connection to the elves who acted as Lady Atravain''s servants?


    Was there a connection? Or was he only imagining events, and Jehair truly was only a mercenary?


    It did not matter.


    William had done his duty, and that was the important thing. He could not decently have done otherwise, so he''d have to deal with it when the time came. And they journeyed on, Massacre munching. Here and there, they''d see Vorn''s men clearing away parts of the road, cutting at thorns or bushes. Others were checking damages and taking notes on stones in need of replacement. Or setting them back into place, when they could find them. These were well-armed, and it seemed to he was setting things to rights already.


    William thought it would only be right for this land to be given new Lords and soldiers from the wars. Vorn seemed to him an excellent choice. But such thoughts did not keep him from moving as quickly as he could. William was now deadly afraid that some great event would happen while he was late.


    So for a few days, they went over the roads at a rapid pace. Vorn told William a great deal about it. The cobblestones here had been stolen over the years. Now all that remained was dirt and gravel, and he was terrified it would pour, and he''d be caught in the muck. Yet nothing of the sort happened, and he passed several stone quarries. In these places, worked by crews of dwarves, stones were being set out over the roads.


    They had reddish-tinged hair and wielded spears and short swords. Some had bows, like the Nakmar. On that very spot, blocks of stone were drawn up, broken, shaped, and put down with great efficiency. It was obvious they were practiced people at this.


    He marveled at the speed and skill by which the dwarves worked. They had great focus.


    "Who are these?" asked William.


    "Naker dwarves," said Jehair. "One of the northern tribes. They live at the foot of the Black Mountain and in the Border Hills north of Gel Carn.


    "This tribe seems to be doing good business."


    One of them nodded to him, and William halted briefly by the partially paved road to offer prayers to Barden. Massacre brought rabbits and sacrificed them on the altar to burn there. The feeling made him glad, and William stood to continue on, and their pace sped. Behind, they saw dwarves making the offering as well, as though they had only remembered to do so.


    Yet William could not forget that the Naker Dwarves also had fields. These were being tilled by halfling slaves. Dressed in rags, they worked beneath the overcast sky with plows as watchmen kept an eye on them. They looked exhausted, and put hard to it and he wondered how they had come to be here.


    At last, they came to the village.


    It was a run-down, miserable affair, with falling in walls and people who were healthy. The buildings were raised off the ground with old nets underneath them. There was a brook where people were fishing as the water flowed into the woods. The road went to the side here, not daring to enter the foreboding and dark forest ahead. But to William''s surprise, Luke Atravain was sitting on a rock, putting together a crossbow.


    "Is it done yet?" asked a brown-haired girl with freckles.


    "Almost," said Luke. "I''ll be there in a few minutes. Crossbows aren''t easy to make, you know." Then he looked up. "Give me a moment.


    "William, where have you been?


    "After we heard you were in Brisgald, we thought you''d get here before us."


    William sighed. "I took my time on the road."


    "What?" said Luke. "You took your time?


    "But look around you, you can see what has happened-"


    "Fighting off multiple plagues and unraveling conspiracies is not easy work, Sir Atravain!" said William. "If I drive myself to my death, I will be of no use to anyone. There were many pressing matters along the way!"


    Silence.


    "Sorry," said Luke. "We''ve had our share of problems as well.


    "We''ve rounded up some local priests, and I''ve had them healing people in the villages the Paladins can''t get to. Of course, I had to take them off the plantations, but by now, we''ve lost most of the slaves.


    "Peter is dead."


    William halted as he remembered Peter Atravain, filled with fire. Without him, William would be in a social ice age. "I see. I remember he took my part against Rundas.


    "Did he die well?"


    "Saved all our necks," said Luke. "He drove an entire force of satyrs away. If Rutger and he hadn''t gone to Khasmir over their parent''s advice, we''d be finished. But, when it came time to withdraw, he was caught by a spear.


    "They wanted revenge for the ones we killed. And we''ve had several more fights like that since. No one else died; we knew well, but it has not been fun.


    "I wish I''d known him better."


    "Well, all we can do is honor his memory and ensure that the task you and he set out for is completed," said William. "I regret I did not know him well.


    "Was he in Castle Atravain?"


    "Yes," said Luke. "I remember you didn''t socialize much. Now I know why."


    William looked to see that the gallows were raised high and bleak in the mist. And from them were two elven men. Their necks were broken, and one of them had violet skin. William stared, watching them dangle, and wondered what had led to this. At their feet was a sign;


    "Bandits, ye be warned."


    "Why were those men hung?" asked William.


    "I know these men," said Jehair, voice grim. "These are Druids of Laevian.


    "Why have they been hung like bandits?"


    "Sir Joseph Korlac did it," said Edara sadly. "He and his men caught them and a large contingent squatting in an abandoned castle. He placed them under arrest, but they fled out a back door.


    "But his men were waiting there and seized them.


    "Once done, he came here and had them hung in sight of the wood. He specifically hung the elves."


    "Korlac isn''t a racist," said Luke in surprise. "I don''t understand why he''d do that."


    "He''s sending a message," said Jehair. "He wants to punish King Faras and us.


    "If I had a guess, Korlac believes that the Druids are involved in this crisis. And he also believes that the elves may have engineered it. But, unable to prove it, he has specifically chosen to hang two elves as an example.


    "While releasing the others."


    "That is common law when dealing with such incidents," said Saul. The tawny-haired, sharp-eyed noble had gotten more toned. He was polishing his armor. "Hanging the two most guilty or authoritative individuals then letting the rest go is one means of mercy.


    "If he believed they were elven agents, executing the elves would sever that," said Rutger. "And it would take decades to repair. But, it would also send a clear message; Back off."


    "...Well," said William, desiring to turn people away from a blood feud. "I''ll pay him back for it in the Tournament of Kings when I get the chance. Though I certainly won''t take his life.


    "Luke, what are you doing down here?


    "You must have some mission." These hanging people were Jehair''s compatriots. Why would Korlac feel the need to kill them?


    "I was planning on hiring some hands to work the fields," said Luke. "And I''ve already managed to get a decent deal for it."


    "Discuss it with Vorn when he gets here," said William. "He should be coming by here.


    "He knows how all this operates better than I do. I have only a loose grasp of economics. And this place seems to accept his authority, technically. And his wife will need to be told what happened to Peter Bailey."


    "Yes, I''ll handle it myself when I can," said Luke. "Follow me; we''ve been patrolling this place trying to fend off satyrs and deter bandits.


    "Have you lost any friends?"


    "Too many," said William. "The first friend I lost was Kusher during the Khasmir Campaign. He was a satyr but a great warrior. He saved my life more than once, and his advice helped me become my own. And we lost quite a few of our group whose names do not come to mind.


    "The plague is handled?"


    "Yes," said Luke. "We''ve already covered most of the villages in this region. But the locals still have their children gone."


    "Are they dead?" asked William.


    "I don''t think so," said Luke. "Apparently, Isriath played her harp and drew them all into the swamp. Then, she said they wouldn''t be returned until she was appeased.


    "I''d go myself, but...


    "I don''t have the power to fight a Goddess. Korlac might have been sending the message to Isriath as well." Birds descended toward the gallows, and William moved to get them.


    "Back, you wretched creatures," said Jehair. "Back!" And William wondered who she was talking to. "Leave the dead in peace!


    "William, let me cut them down. This kind of end does not before anyone, hanging out here for the crows."


    William looked at her. "Very well.


    "Felix, get them down. We''ll give them a proper burial under Jehair''s instructions. Any message that could have been sent here is long since sent. Luke, find them a priest."


    They buried them just as William had said.


    William went to the village. And meeting the Chief, Hasmond, who spoke at length with him. It turned out that the druids had been taking in criminals and escaped slaves. The villagers had made a good profit by taking them in until recently.


    Apparently, they often helped in transporting materials as a waystation. And many of those materials were illegal in nature.


    "You mean to say that you''ve been knowing helping thieves," said William.


    "It''s better to profit by them than be forced out," said the man. "They''ve used this place either way. We''re very distant from the law, and if we don''t cooperate, they''ll wipe us out.


    "All our neighbors deal with them.


    "So we either have to leave, die, or play alone."


    "That''s why Korlac did it," said Edara. "House Korlac hates unlawful activity of any kind.


    "He is effectively sending to message to everyone;


    "Give up your evil ways or suffer the consequences. Or something like that."


    "It might be an effective deterrent," said Saul. "If House Korlac was credible.


    "But they''ve been completely shut out for years. No one takes them at all seriously."


    "I wouldn''t discount Korlac," said Luke. "He''s smart, and his Father is ruthless. And things are changing right now. If we''re not careful, John might decide to use the chaos to hang everyone here.


    "It would cause problems for the weakened gangs. And it would be technically legal."


    "He wouldn''t, really," said Edara.


    "I''m not saying he would," said Luke. "But it is possible House Korlac could see this as their opportunity to pursue their vendetta. And the best targets to take would be people who cooperate with them." He looked to Hasmond. "You have to stop breaking the law and have nothing more to do with these people.


    "Don''t fight, but don''t cooperate or help.


    "John Korlac is coming one way or another."


    Murmurs of fear came from the people. There were dwarves, humans, halflings, and even a few satyrs, though no elves. But no children and William remembered with a chill what had happened.


    "Cooperating was how we got into this mess anyway," said Hasmond. "That''s why all the children were taken."


    "Hasmond, you''d better explain in-depth," said Saul.


    William noticed Alasa taking notes. Her garments were white and fine, and she looked very beautiful. He decided that it would be best for this to be well known. "Is she in your company, Luke?"


    "Alasa is with us, yes," said Luke.


    An elven agent with Luke and an elven agent with William. They were keeping on the nobility and their actions. This in itself was not unreasonable, but that they were able to do so effortlessly was concerning. All the more so because Luke seemed to regard it as nothing odd.


    If the elves were connected to events, what could they hope to gain?


    Jehair had mentioned several times Neral Dinis and tried to focus their vendetta on him. But thus far, Neral Dinis did not seem involved at all. Save for putting Reg up to taking over Ascorn. Jehair had a vendetta with him, of course.


    It was too soon to say.


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    Hasmond was silent, looking from face to face.


    "Hasmond," said William.


    Hasmond nodded. "I''ll explain.


    "As you wish. Since coming here from the Border Hills, our people have dwelled here for hundreds of years. During those days, the demons of hell had emerged from the lands of Adrianeth. Many of us were forced away. Blood soaked the stones, and they are red to this day from the great conflict.


    "When the dust settled, not all of us returned.


    "We sheltered with the ancestors of Duke Borinius. And from there, we created villages and acted as smith workers and others. People came to dwell with us over time, and we became a diverse sort. Humans, elves, dwarves, and even some satyrs.


    "But..."


    "What happened to the children?" asked William.


    "Isriath happened," said Hasmond.


    "Isriath?" asked Edara. "The Lady of Music has been in several other places. I''ve seen someone like her."


    "Yes, she played upon her harp against us and drew all of them away from us," said Hasmond. "They followed her into the swamps and never returned. We could not even raise ourselves to follow her.


    "Although, the satyrs have avoided us thus far, drawn away by music."


    "But why?" asked William. "What was her motivation?"


    "There..." Hasmond halted. "We had a contract of sorts. You see, we''d been suffering from a plague of rats-"


    "A plague of rats, too?" said Felix in a low tone. "There is no way all of this could be a coincidence. Someone has engineered this."


    "Is it the nature of servants to speak among their betters in House Gabriel," said Saul, an edge in his tone. The tone was biting and had an edge of authority to it. The others looked to him and thought some power play was underway.


    "Felix is well-accustomed to making vital observations," said William. He remembered being put on display before. "Though no observations about your Father come to mind at the moment, Saul. Other than having a seat at every table."


    A murmur came between them.


    Silence and the silence became worse. They were all looking to one another, caught between the two. Neither wanted to be an enemy of either House, and Letan was the more prestigious, technically. But House Gabriel was the stronger. Finally, William and Saul''s eyes met.


    William had not forgotten his treatment by Letan.


    "Can we settle your vendetta later?" asked Edara. "When the Kingdom is not falling apart. We can''t afford to have a vendetta."


    William shrugged. "As you wish."


    "We''ll let the matter pass," said Saul. "Go on, Hasmond."


    "Well, Isriath appeared with a great display of wonder and lots of light," said Hasmond. "She came before us, said she was from the Sorcerer''s Guild, where she often stays. She offered to get rid of the rats for us if we did her a favor in return."


    "What favor?" asked William.


    "They simply wanted us to look the other way for a series of shipments from the Sorcerer''s Guild," said Hasmond. "Most of the time, they go through Brisgald, and there are patrols to ensure it. But, with all the banditry, things have been creeping out.


    "We had no choice; the rats were spreading plague and devouring all the food."


    "Understandable," said William. "Did it work?"


    "...Yes," said Hasmond.


    "Well then, the first step is to find out how it happened. Find out if any wrongdoing was done by the villages," said William. "Once that is done, we initiate any necessary reprisals.


    "Last of all, we convince the Fairy Queen to give the children back. Now, we''ll have to find her for that and then convince her to do things our way. Preferably without trading anything of value in return."


    "You''re a good harper, aren''t you?" asked Luke. "I heard you battled a plague demon using music."


    "My harp is destroyed," said William. "It was broken during the journey. I don''t know why I kept the pieces, but I suppose I hoped I could put them back together. Perhaps I could ask her before she turns me into a snake or something." He paused. "Hasmond, you need to start growing as much food as possible and stockpiling it. We''re likely to have a bad harvest with all this chaos.


    "You might make a very good profit selling food."


    "Don''t I know it," said Luke. "You know, Rius'' lax hand is causing my Mother a lot of trouble."


    "William?!" said a voice. "William over here!"


    William turned and saw Vorn hurrying forward with troops. Turning, he saw him. Then he looked to Luke. "Excuse me."


    He hurried off. "Vorn, I didn''t think you''d arrive so soon."


    "Had to come here through a rainstorm," said Vorn. "I wanted to catch you to get your thoughts on a plan to fix all this." He looked to Luke as he came. "Luke, good to see you, but I gotta talk to my kid cousin here."


    "So, what''s your plan?" asked William.


    Vorn led him to one side, and William looked to see Saul observing them while the others talked.


    "I have a plan that can annihilate all our enemies without striking a blow, William," said Vorn.


    "Tell me what it is," said William. "And don''t speak too loudly."


    "All you''d have to do is open up the trade lanes," said Vorn. "Savior''s Run is the main shipping line between Artarq and Antion. And it''s become even more lucrative now that Seathorius has settled down. Now, Marn can give anyone easy access using his private ships, and that can get people all over the place.


    "But he gets to pick and choose his clients and chooses the order. Outside of royal commands and reinforcements. As a result, he''s always making a killing, and everybody wants to use his ships. It guarantees you won''t lose the cargo, and it''ll get there way faster. So virtually every noble house that isn''t House Marn''s enemy is invested in it big.


    "Now what happens if Savior''s Run is opened? So that nobody attacks ships anymore?"


    "All of the people invested heavily in Savior''s Run will lose a fortune," said William.


    "Exactly," said Vorn. "What if we negotiate directly with Arraxia? She''s good at keeping her minions in line, and she''s got power. Kiyora is the other major power, and Queen Dawn will be only too happy to get the extra tax revenue.


    "House Gabriel has no investments in Marn because of our long-term rivalry. You don''t invest in somebody you hate. But many criminals have put up money to ship things through it under legitimate guises.


    "We can wipe them all out. All of them in one strike, and it''ll happen anytime we want."


    "What about the people, Vorn?" asked William. "All of the people who will lose their savings? There are sure to be uninvolved innocent parties who get caught up in it."


    "We can buy them out," said Vorn. "Remember, we''ll have access to the means to help them."


    "We''ll be enslaving them, Vorn," said William. "It might get us some short-term benefits, but it will discredit us. Take this opportunity, and you''ll damn us for good. We''ll never be anything but social climbers."


    "Well, we gotta open the river sometime," said Vorn. "It''ll be good for us in the long term, good for everyone. More trade means more money and business."


    "More money and business means it will be more difficult to regulate. We''re already having trouble," said William. "And if we alienate our fellow nobles, it will be impossible. Everyone will try to seize every advantage they can get, and it''ll fall apart." Looking up, he saw Saul speaking with the others.


    This was bad.


    "So what do you suggest?" asked Vorn.


    "Can''t we just tell them we want to open it?" asked William. "Luke is over there, and several other nobles, including Saul Marn. Do that, and everyone can prepare for what''s coming. Then, if everybody knows that Savior''s Run is going to open, Letan can get compensation. Then it can be done in a controlled way.


    "Then we''ll have a better reputation, and it will be clear that Father is a principled individual. We''ll no longer just be social climbers.


    "...I should probably not publish this book for a couple years after I finish it."


    "What do you mean?" asked Vorn.


    "If we publish a book detailing our economic strategy, our enemies will adapt," said William. "If we are going to do economic warfare, we''ve got to take them unawares. Chip away at their profits and holdings little by little, or get them to take stupid risks with their money.


    "Risks that we know won''t pay off."


    "Probably not," said Vorn. "I''m gonna run the idea over by them now."


    William paused. "There is something you ought to know about this village."


    He told Vorn what he had learned, and Vorn listened carefully.


    "Well," said Vorn. "Lilas has a lot of control out there. He set up his tendrils out in this place, even if he never really began operations.


    "He must have known what his people were doing. Or at least some of it; he''s very meticulous. Alright, yeah, I''ll buy him out. I should have been let in on this. I''m the one taking care of everything out here."


    And he hurried over.


    "Hey Will, what''s going on?" asked Luke. "Saul is worried, and I get the feeling you aren''t talking about the weather."


    "Vorn has a proposition he wants to run by all of you," said William.


    Silence as it was explained again.


    "...I don''t see how this is going to shut down the criminal operations, Sir Vorn," said Edara.


    "Saul could probably tell you," said William. It was obvious Saul was the best at politics. Assuming he was, this was a real opportunity.


    "Saul?" asked Luke.


    "If you are a money lender and you loan people the coin they need to start businesses or buy farmland," said Saul. "Now, ordinarily, when you give a loan, you want to wait until they pay it back. But, if you get hit by unexpected costs and you don''t have the reserves to pay, what do you do, Edara?"


    "You call in your loans," said Edara.


    "Exactly," said Saul. "So what happens if you can''t call in your loans?"


    "Isn''t that a contradiction?" asked Rutler.


    "Technically," said Saul. "Theoretically, anyone can call in a loan they have made. But, let''s say you are a moneylender to a powerful king. If you try to call in a loan on him, he could just chop your head off or laugh in your face.


    "When you get in that position, you have a lot of debt. And you can''t access the coin to pay off the debt. So what do you do?"


    "Bargain for time," said Luke.


    "And if that doesn''t work?" asked Saul.


    "Take out a loan," said Edara.


    "So, what kind of person would give you such a loan?" asked Saul.


    "It''d have to be someone rich and powerful enough to expect a return," said Luke. "Or someone who cannot afford to see you go down."


    "Right," said Saul. "These criminals who have forced my Father''s hand are very rich and hoping to get richer. However, their recent losses will have damaged confidence in them."


    "A lot of people have lost confidence in the nobility," said Rutler. Judging from his tone, William had a feeling he was one of them. He prayed that Rutler was not suffering too badly from the loss of Peter.


    But he didn''t know Peter or Rutler well enough to say anything.


    "True," said Vorn. "But we are making a public effort to correct that error and serving for free.


    "Criminal organizations aren''t like noble families. Your faithful retainers will kill you in a heartbeat if you lose money. So chances are, there are already heads rolling. And with a lot of their minions cut down, they won''t be able to expand.


    "But they are going to come back. Too many people are invested in what they provide."


    "The first blow struck against them will send them reeling. Then they will get more foreign money," said Saul. "Elements of the Demoration often pay neverending streams of funds on many worlds. They are terrified of losing control. There will be assassinations and favors and blackmail, and they will return. So, we should set up our second blow to strike when they begin to recover."


    "So what if we annihilate their holdings at the precise moment they receive an influx of coin?" asked Rutler.


    "We break them and their supporters," realized Luke. "Everyone loses everything, and they eat eachother."


    "So what do you suggest, Sir Vorn," said Saul.


    "Harlenor has always been a warrior culture," said Vorn. "There are many kinds of warfare. Now, the old ways were always burning villages and such, but that is passing by.


    "I choose to call this;


    "Economic warfare.


    "We have to do three things to destroy the enemy. First, it is a form of attack that does not utilize raw, physical violence. More sophisticated but potentially devastating.


    "First, we have to bankrupt them, make them lose all their money or most of it. A noble family without money can survive for a bit by name and deed. But a criminal organization with no money can''t pay its soldiers; it can''t buy merchandise.


    "The problem is that criminals don''t disappear because their organization goes under. They go into business for themselves. So the other thing we need to do is stop them from getting any more recruits.


    "So far, we have done this.


    "Many of their fewer pawns have flown the coup. Others are jumping ship or have been killed or fled. Of these, some will return.


    "However, the core problem is this. As long as there are huge numbers of restless fighting men with no income, they''ve got recruits."


    "My Father has said something similar," said Saul. "Give these men land and a prospect of advancement and retirement. Then thousands of recruits will become hundreds. Then hundreds will become dozens. Once the criminal operations start to recede, they can''t force the law to cooperate."


    "Gel Carn has huge swaths of unoccupied land to the south, you know," said Rutler. "Peter and I went there. It''s rolling fertile lands that got depopulated in a series of demonic invasions."


    "It''s true," said Edara. "I''m from that region. The population dropped dramatically during an invasion by Adrianeth and has never recovered. Much of it is verdant farmland, just with demons."


    "The problem is that we need someone to loan them money," said Saul. "It can''t be any of us; we''d be accused of trying to buy their loyalty."


    "Why not Adrian Wrynncurth?" asked William. "I''m heading there already, and Benarus rules in the name of the Heir of Kings, who has no real power as of yet. I could discuss it with him when I get there."


    "So we stockpile coin and warn of the honest people, in one way or another," said Korlac. "If every single noble house pulls strings to get them to pull out when the time is right, we can get most of them out. And we can put aside a fund to pay for any damages to legal property."


    "Which means Korlac could investigate each business for how much they are owed," said Luke. "And if they refuse, they have to explain why and forfeit the bailout. That should keep him off the people out here.


    "And once we have all those investigations, we can strip them of their ill-gotten gains. Then use them to compensate victims. Or fund public works that have been falling apart. The King''s Road is almost a dirt path in some places."


    "What about the other nations?" asked William, who was from Artarq and Haldren. "They will have an opinion."


    "Haldren isn''t involved in it, and neither is Escor," said Vorn. "Calisha is our enemy, and Baltoth is notoriously difficult to corrupt. Sorn might be a problem, but Sorn is about to engage in a very expensive war, win or lose. Even if it is a swift victory, they will be setting up new plantations.


    "So, we could probably just get them to sign off on wiping out their rivals.


    "If we give them a reasonable price, they''ll probably take the money and the benefits and let it happen."


    "But can we actually negotiate with Arraxia?" asked Rutger. "She''s a demon."


    Saul considered it. "...It has to be House Gabriel or no one."


    "What do you mean?" asked Edara.


    "I''ve read the accounts of Arraxia, and I''ve spoken with eyewitnesses," said Saul. "She is petty and vindictive and is not a rational actor and has a god complex that is impossible to shake. On the other hand, William and her interactions seem to be that of a girl and her beloved pet."


    "Excuse me?" asked William choking.


    Saul smiled. "It was a mere metaphor.


    "Arraxia seems to hold you in some respect and twisted affection. At least, insofar as you resist her attempts to put you down."


    "More or less," admitted William. At least someone had read his book. He had no intention of rising to this fool''s bait.


    "If Vanion Gabriel can get her to agree with this, Queen Dawn can easily be brought in," said Saul. "She''s reasonable, and nobody else is in a position to stop us. Father has good relations with her.


    "House Korlac has wanted revenge on the criminal underworld for generations of humiliation. They will take this opportunity. To do otherwise would be to betray their core principles on a fundamental level."


    "Calisha could have the money to bail them out. Theoretically speaking," said William. "Although I doubt Baltoth would use such tactics."


    "If so," said Saul. "It could prove to our benefit.


    "We can keep a watch for that and use it to destroy them politically. Revealing that they are in the pay of Baltoth would be a perfect pretext. And once we arrest one person for working for Baltoth, others can fall as well." Then he halted and considered something. "May I ask a question, Sir Gabriel?"


    "Yes," said William.


    "Why did you two decide to bring this plan to us?" asked Saul. "Was it because you thought we would deduce and counter it? Or did you believe it would benefit your House more in the long term?"


    William looked to Vorn, who shrugged. "Go ahead, Will."


    "I have no desire to bankrupt innocent people for the sake of revenge on men I have never even met," said William. "Vorn''s plan is brilliant, so far as I can tell. He is a master of economics.


    "I just didn''t want innocent people to get hurt."


    "That makes sense to me," said Luke.


    "Such a policy is humane," said Saul. "But can it not be taken too far. If one is not willing to make sacrifices, one can achieve nothing."


    "If you make sacrifices without looking for alternatives, you lose everything," said William. "I am who I am because I refused my only escape route out of principle. Had I done otherwise, I would be working for demons."


    "I suppose it is a question of what you sacrifice," said Saul. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "War should be conducted with as little violence as possible," said Vorn. "People shouldn''t prey on the weak."


    "We are Harlenorians, Vorn," said William. "To prey on the weak is nature.


    "It is the innocent we do not prey on. Weakness is a form of sin."


    "That''s a bit harsh," said Luke. "Not everyone can take care of themselves. What about someone born a cripple."


    "Raynald De Chevlon has a withered arm and many disadvantages, and he has beaten them," said William. "One should be judged by what one does with the gifts they are given.


    "Or so I believe."


    "Weak men do what they like," said Rutler. "Normal men do what they must. Heroes do what they can."


    "I didn''t know you were a poet," said Edara.


    "A personal philosophy," said Rutler. "Peter believed it and so do I."


    "Luke," said William. "I have to go at once.


    "I can''t delay any longer. Isriath might lose interest, and that could be very bad."


    "Then we will not detain you," said Saul. "Sir Vorn, I will speak with you.


    "Sir Gabriel, I believe, has the business of his own."


    "Thank you, Saul," said William. "Give your regards to my Father, and tell him I hope this crisis has not left him in ill health."


    "I will," said Saul.


    "Do you really mean to confront two goddesses?" asked Jehair.


    "I have to make an attempt," said William. "Let''s just get this over with."


    And they ventured into the darkness of the wood to face two goddesses. At least now they had a method to strike back at the criminal organizations. William could only hope they lost everything once they opened Savior''s Run.

 Chapter 163 - Fifteen: Battle of Music

    The journey into the woods was a difficult one, with many roots and low-hanging branches that could trip you up. A few starlights gleamed through the clouds here and there, easing the journey by night. Jehair insisted on going by night for reasons William did not altogether understand. Apparently, the Wood Elves liked going by night, so it was better to move there and be alert instead of the day.


    "Auga is a dragon?" asked Jehair suddenly. A bit delayed, but yes. "How did that happen?"


    "Yes, she was recruited into the family by Varsus," said William. "He ran into her when they were children, relatively speaking. And he talked her into joining House Gabriel''s side.


    "She didn''t have any of her memories or not many. In fact, she could hardly speak.


    "So Mara more or less adopted her. When I met her, she was at least a few decades old but was about my level of maturity. Rusara made her take human form for the most part as a security measure, but she can become her true self at will now. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "We keep it secret, though I imagine it will come out now."


    "Wouldn''t a golden dragon have suited your emblem better?" asked Jehair.


    "Bah," said Massacre in agreement.


    "Gold dragons can''t fly, and all of them live in the far east," said William.


    "It was an attempt at humor," said Jehair.


    "I hadn''t noticed," said William. Then he halted within a clearing. "Alright, listen up. I''m going to try to tap into Isriath''s song. It''s going to be dangerous, and it probably won''t work. But if it does, I could be ensnared by whatever spell she cast.


    "Both of you are older than fifteen, so you''re exempt."


    "Wait a minute, dwarves and elves live here," said Felix. "Would not the maximum age be-"


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "I''m only-" began Felix.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Massacre is right. Just assume it varies by race," said William. "Anyway, this should lead me to wherever she took the children. However, it also might ensure me. You are to restrain me if I behave oddly and not let go for anything."


    "I understand," said Felix, drawing his sword.


    "Isriath often associates with the Sorcerer''s Guild and Magicora," said Jehair. "She seems to be a kind of go-between for them, though she is also a Goddess of Themious. I encountered her several times on my journeys in Dinis. I do not think she would make this kind of decision of her own accord.


    "Though she often trades favors. Perhaps she is paying off some debt."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Maius does not operate in these areas to my knowledge, Massacre," said Jehair. "Though she and Isriath are often inseparable. They usually utilize their powers in tandem. Enchanting music finds an intoxicated mind easy prey.


    "Still, I was given to believe that the two limited their association to Themious."


    "Then you didn''t know anything about the brothels," said William.


    "I knew of them," said Jehair. "I don''t go near such places and rarely move away from wild regions for long periods of time. And I operate in several worlds."


    "I want to know how they got in," said Felix.


    "That can be learned later," said William.


    And kneeling down, William put his hands together and began to pray. Then, focusing his mind upwards and outwards, he sensed around him. And drawing his sword, he raised it upward. "Lord Elranor...


    "Guide me to save them, please."


    And closing his eyes, he rosed upward and found himself walking almost on his own. He wondered if he could stop it or if it was beyond his control. And he wondered if anything was really in his control at all or if he had only the illusion of it. Following the path that lay before him, his sword in hand, he walked in a trance.


    A dim breeze rustled through the leaves. The air swirled around them as the moonlight widened further in. Until, at last, he came to a clearing and saw before him Isriath. She stood beautiful and yet fay in the clearing, a harp in hand with many bells upon her flowing green garb. Her arms were slender, and her hair was long and braided gold, while her eyes were brought blue.


    She was here an image of dignity and wonder, yet terrible. For William knew she was dangerous as well as beautiful. And he knew now that looking at her might well be the last thing he knew in his life.


    And then a flash of fire ruined it.


    Maius descended exactly as she had been in the brother, spinning on one long leg with the other in the air. Her red outfit swirled around her, and she wore a white sash that was far too long. Could she not trip on it. And then she backflipped through the air. Her immense bosom bounced with each movement. It was akin to a mesmerizing dance, her long legs swaying.


    Her curves were comparable to Arraxia, even equal.


    William tried to avoid becoming infatuated and failed as her lips drew near him. He could feel her breath on his face. Then a fan sword of foreign make was put between their lips, so they were almost touching it. Her chest was pressed against him, and he kept his gaze firmly on her face.


    Then there was a flash of fire, and she was gone.


    Then Chun Xi descended from the trees to and in a crouch. The poofing blue sleeves of her shirt flowed as one leg spun an inch over the ground. The movement sent a wave of leaves flowing into the air with the air passing. Her dark hair ties bobbed as she spun away to land near Isriath, driving one of her hips to one side.


    "The Goddess of Revelry and most beautiful lady in the world, Maius!" said Maius, landing in a dramatic pose.


    "I''m not doing it, Maius," said Isriath. She and Chun Xi were easily comparable.


    "But we had the whole dynamic set up," said Maius. "It would have been amazing!"


    "I''m sure it would, but this is not a good time," said Chun Xi. "Humans tend to become very touchy when it comes to children. We may not operate on the same moral principles, but we must be courteous in these matters."


    "Fine," said Maius. "You two really need to loosen up."


    They wanted to be asked questions, didn''t they? No doubt they had a story or two to tell about their adventures. And he was curious.


    "What were you doing in that brothel?" asked William. "It does not seem your usual habitat."


    "A favor to a friend, in truth," said Isriath. "I have little love for such base pleasures. And Maius much prefers more public sorts of entertainment."


    "Chun Xi?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Isriath. "She''s interested in gaining the favor of her Empress.


    "The nature of her creation was accidental. However, her people have been enduring decades of humiliation by Bretus. Another creation of Anoa the Bright, however, unlike Harlenor...


    "Well, Maius finds them less entertaining."


    "We are not being humiliated," said Chun Xi. "We are enduring.


    "And Bretus will soon destroy itself at this rate. They do not see the fall coming because they are blind to the ground at their feet. The earth churns beneath them."


    "Yeah," said Maius, spinning through the air to stand with her back to him. "They''re more about rape and brutality and murder and feeling superior. Of course, Harlenor has those things, but they''re sort of character flaw.


    "Bretus is kind of what you may become."


    "I believe you," said William. Should he broach the subject of the children? It would be unwise; they had the advantage here and could find it unpleasant. Isriath had been courteous; he ought to be as well.


    The children could wait a little bit longer at the risk of ruthlessness. Assuming they weren''t dead, of course. Unfortunately, there were probably many dead crises because of this crisis. Would their deaths really change anything at this point?


    That was a thought William did not want to go into. He had to try and save them, whether they were alive or dead.


    "They aren''t dead," said Isriath. "They are quite safe and content at the moment.


    "Observing things, you know.


    "We''ll put the matter aside."


    "I believe I have interfered with your designs," said William. He decided it unwise to mention they had no business with the church in the first place. Maius laughed at this, opening her fans and putting them in front of her face as she did. "Where is Imogen?"


    "She''s gone," said Isriath. "Banished, or so I think. It happens now and then. Though she has a way of slipping out of places.


    "Or, maybe she''s just lost interest. That''s how she does things; she shows up one day and then disappears. I gather she was quite annoyed with you."


    William decided his patience for courtesy was now exhausted. "Where are the children? What have you done with them?"


    Instant, their playful manner fell away, and they leaped back to take stances.


    "In a better place," said Isriath.


    "Their place is with their families," said William. "You have taken them from their villages, homes, and families. You have seized them against their own will.


    "This is an act of wanton evil."


    "Evil?" asked Maius in concern. "We''re not evil."


    "Your actions speak otherwise," said William.


    "This is one of those human things Maius," said Isriath. "They operate on principles that certain actions ought never to be taken. We have similar principles, but we operate in different parameters.


    "Humans and most mortals consider hurting children an abomination. But we are primal spirits of nature. Wolves and bears eat human children, just as humans eat the children of animals.


    "The difference is that we are capable of reason and thus answerable for our actions.


    "Nevertheless, our moral codes are largely incompatible save in matters of courtesy."


    "The children," said William.


    Chun Xi nodded. "Yes, yes. All they have to do is move the cargo as they agreed. Do that, and they will be returned.


    "I had an agreement with that village to transfer some cargo for the Sorcerer''s Guild. Neral Dinis was quite polite as a go-between."


    "Did you know what the cargo was?" asked William.


    "I agreed to arrange transportation. All in exchange for services I was rendered a long time ago," said Isriath. "Whatever Neral Dinis wanted, I must give, of course.


    "One must honor one''s agreements. Once they broke theirs, I had to compel them to redeem themselves."


    "Did he tell you anything about what he was doing?" asked William.


    "Nothing at all," said Isriath. "It was of no concern, I owed him a favor, and I am trying to repay it. I gather that he has been in contact with House Kern."


    "But what did he owe you the favor for?" asked William.


    "Why stole the Goldenwood Harp, of course," said Isriath. "How do you think it came to that vault you found it in? Imogen and I stole it ages ago.


    "I like to store away treasures for adventurers to find now and then. I must say, I think it came to a very deserving hero. Though it might have fit a female more."


    "Yes, why did you hand it over to Alchara?" asked Maius, crossing her arms. "I would have liked it for myself."


    "I would do a great deal for someone I care about and also to a goddess I hold fealty," said William.


    "How romantic," said Isriath as many serpents and doves flew into sight. Pigs also came forward. "So, yes, the children are all around us. All of them have become animals like they were in their past lives. Those pigs were bullies, the doves very flighty, the usual.


    "I think you''d make a very nice serpent?"


    "Would you like to be one?" Maius, up in his face again. "Isriath could change you in an instant. I''d like to wrap you around me." And she spun before him, her sash wrapping around him like a vice. As it did, he found her will entering his, and the world became bleary again, but he fought back.


    "No, thank you," said William. The spell faded.


    "Hmm, a very strong will," said Maius. "Not much for emotion, and that''s necessary for a scene."


    "And what is the emotion of this scene?" asked William. "You are holding these children captive for actions their parents took. Actions that may have saved an entire kingdom." Maius leaped back in disappointment.


    "Oh my," said Isriath. "Burning Kingdoms make for such emotional portraits too. I suppose that wonderful painter of mine will have less to draw."


    "What was his name?" asked Chun Xi.


    "...Kiyora''s Dad, I think?" said Maius, drawing a book out of her cleavage and flipping through some notes. It was very impressive how she flipped to the precise page one-handed. Also, half her breasts were exposed. With how they were bouncing, how had she not...


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    No, he would remain professional.


    "Why did I ask you that question?" asked Chun Xi.


    "Because you didn''t remember," said Maius. This was futile; the kidnapping of these children was as important for these two as the trees around them. But he could hardly start a fight. "You think maybe we should let them go?"


    "I suppose the animals might prefer their old forms," said Isriath. "But we''ll need something in return. There is a grievance that must be addressed."


    "I have a dual allegiance to Elranor, Lord of Knights, and the Dreaming Goddess," said William. "Any transfer would require going through both of them. Elranor, under some circumstances, might cooperate.


    "Kiyora, however, never will.


    "And balancing loyalties between them is tenuous enough. I am almost certain putting myself at your disposal would lead to complications."


    "Ah," said Chun Xi. "Well, that ruins the fun, doesn''t it?"


    "As if this wasn''t confusing enough," said Maius. "How many sides are there in this?"


    "At least it''s not the Escorian Civil War," said Isriath. "This one is at least ending."


    Enough. "In that case, I challenge you to a war of music," said William.


    "What?!" said Isriath.


    "You''re not serious?!" said Chuni Xi. "You can''t beat Isriath in a war of music.


    "She''s the Goddess of Music. She doesn''t have to accept your challenge!"


    "This just got interesting," said Maius, laughing with her fan before her lips.


    Jehair and Felix had said nothing all this time, as though there were mere observers. It seemed to William that he was in a personal space of sorts.


    "Actually, she does," said Chun Xi. "You see.


    "It is stated in the Code of the Musician that you cannot decline to match a mortal''s challenge. Well, except in cases where there are no stakes."


    "There is no such code," said Chun Xi.


    "There is, actually," said Isriath. "What do you have in mind?"


    "If I win, you must release all of those you have held captive and return them to their homes," said William. "And you will have to answer any questions I have."


    "How daring," said Isriath. "And if I win, I''ll turn you into a serpent for Maius."


    "We''ll need a judge, won''t we?" asked Maius.


    "Yes, I say we choose, perhaps..." Isriath halted. "Your slave, Felix, is it? No doubt so loyal a servant will be to your advantage?"


    "I''m afraid he would not be objective," said William. "Felix is being well-paid by House Gabriel and has been loyal to me in impossible situations. My loss would drastically affect his prospects. He would be completely unsuitable for the purpose."


    "Um..." Maius halted.


    "Did you just..." Isriath halted, shifting.


    "You just gave up a guaranteed winning move," said Chun Xi. "If she''d picked him, Felix would have acted in your favor. And she wouldn''t even have a right to complain about it?"


    "Perhaps," said William. But she could have used it as an excuse to argue she didn''t really lose.


    Isriath stared. "You really think you can beat me, don''t you?"


    "Who would you have judged then? Jehair?" asked Chun Xi.


    William thought about how much he trusted Jehair. This was an ideal moment for a backstab.


    "No. Jehair is not entitled to judge a goddess, is she? Do we need someone of equal standing who cannot be threatened and influenced?


    "I believe it should be Isriath herself."


    "What?" said Isriath.


    "Well, why not?" asked William. "You are the Goddess of Music; surely, if you were bested by me, you would know it."


    Isriath laughed and looked happy for the first time since he''d seen her. "Ah, flattery and a proposition. What a wonderful night!


    "Music, fine entertainment, and contest all to me! Let''s start with a change of scenery!" And she spun around, and the world changed so that they stood in a forest that seemed as old as time itself. The trees were as high as the Black Mountain, and the sunlight gleamed down from above in a blaze. And Isriath stood at the top of a hickory stump the size of a tower. She was golden-crowned and clad now in glowing gold and jewels.


    Then raising a hand, William''s harp came from his pack even as she threw it off;


    "I''ll reward your faith with a repair job," said Isriath. "Though you must be more careful."


    And before his eyes, all the gold and strings knitted together perfectly as if new. And taking it, he strummed the strings. From those strings came forth a strong sound. But with a slight imperfection. Yet that imperfection defined the other sounds, creating new and great things from it.


    Poetry in motion.


    And then Isriath and he played their harps; their music took on the form of light, one red and furious. The other was blue and beautiful, and they clashed. Their songs melded and mixed to send forth light all around them. More and more, William played, and more and more, Isriath matched with ease.


    Her hands moved faster and faster, and history began to take form.


    William saw the rising of mighty nations. From humble beginnings, when the first flute was played poorly, came Isriath. And she taught others to sing, while Maius, or gods like them, taught them to make a drink and good cheer to dull their pain. Beer and music were gifts from the gods.


    Yet as time passed, they were put aside in favor of more violence. Warrior traditions took precedence. And William before him saw a beautiful city of art and music. It was founded long ago between the eastern knees of the Black Mountain. High and great were the walls, but they were unmanned by the people within.


    And so it was that Anoa the Bright descended. For they aligned themselves against Harlenor, and in vengeance, it was torched. Isriath was pleased with Anoa for sparing the men of her city before the gates. And memories came to him of learning to play the harp at his side beneath the guidance of spirits he saw.


    For a moment, he was himself again. The music raised to the ringing of bells as flames of a rainbow formed around Isriath''s hands.


    Yet that memory was quenched by the memories of dead friends. That and horrors perpetrated on his people. And also of the coming corruption and destruction of his people. For Anoa perceived in Isriath an alternative to Elranor, who had not yet come into his own. The easy way could not be allowed to ensnare them.


    And so, Anoa destroyed the city, leaving nothing remaining.


    Isriath wept and fled back to Escor, where once she had dwelled in long days. And William wondered if the choice had been correct, even as his music began to falter. Then he remembered that, correct or not, it was part of who and what he was. There was no shame in error so long as it was corrected when perceived.


    And for all William knew, Anoa''s choice might well have been correct.


    Destroying all alternatives might have been necessary to maintain the unity of Harlenor. And if the walls were indeed unmanned, they would have been sacked sooner or later. For people who did not fight for themselves would surely be consumed or corrupt all around them.


    And the first spell of Isriath was turned back.


    But she rose into the sky, as wings like those of a butterfly emerged and channeled the light. Beams descended, and William felt as though he had been skewered by the blades. Tired old men cut down, infants thrown from walls that they might never avenge their Father''s. Anoa perceived every moment of it with a stoic expression as the city burned.


    The bodies were buried, and he moved to fight off an army of gnolls who had been coming to help. Behind, William saw the blood-drenched ruins. The rain was failing to wash away the rubble and broken pottery. William wondered how many people had died here in this city, his harp playing. Yet as he looked closer, he saw the city was small by the standards of these days. What was then considered a great place of light and music would be available in almost any town today.


    Their end had been tragic.


    But would such be the case had Anoa not burned them? Had they survived, would they not have gone the way of Cirithil? Lasting long enough to discredit themselves utterly. Yet, in death, in the tragedy of their ending, they may have given way to greater glories. And William played a song. He was summoning the memory of men fleeing in fear from mounted elves with terrible bows.


    Arrows were loosed, and a man fell dead. What was his name? Had he ever existed, or was he simply a figment conjured up by the reading of history? Perhaps Isriath knew the answer.


    "So, you seem to have some skill. This is more entertaining than I thought," said Isriath, smiling as a predator. "Why don''t we try upping our game a bit? Fine then, let me show some true music!"


    "Feel free to make that happen," said William. "Music is a form of art, and all art reflects the soul of the one who creates it.


    "And you will find that my themes are greater than yours."


    The world went chill.


    "Oh, how very brave," said Isriath, smiling as her hair went loose in the wind. "But very foolish as well. Behold, the music of reality itself is reflected through perfection. As you have learned, tragedy is the source of all inspiration.


    "And you will find that no song may be played that does not have its uttermost source in me."


    Thus William beheld Anoa the Bright himself. He was a warrior of unparalleled power and dignity. Thus he was a King even before the crown was worn. Yet, in battle, he showed joy and bloodlust beyond even Tanith. Flames started around him unbidden as he carved a glorious path through his enemies. Such was his valor and power that it infected all around him.


    And there was Sir Orson and Lady Gwendoven, figures of white and golden light. Together they rose in power, beating back the enemies of humanity. And as they rose in power, Anoa and Gwendoven were wed, and Orson, her greatest servant. Yet Anoa''s madness could not be cured, and the pains of his sins were on him.


    Over time, Gwendoven left him to Orson. And Anoa pursued in a rage and warped on both, and both were killed. Then, with the last things holding him back, Anoa declared a final war on Qor''Dana and there faced the Incarnation of the Land...


    No.


    William set his will against this vision. He knew not whether it was truth or a lie, but he would not bear witness to atrocities he''d been told about a dozen times. It was enough to know that the times had been horrible. And so his song turned to one of defiance, refusal to acknowledge his opponent. For his opponent was not acting in good faith.


    Images were shown to William of how kindhearted and beautiful the elves were. Of a beautiful paradise. Yet he looked at it as though he were Anoa and saw only high-handed people who hated him. He has displayed a dimmed vision of the Two Trees of Old, beautiful and as bright as the sun. Given for all to see.


    Yet Anoa had not cared one whit about trees.


    He cared about what had been happening around him. William saw Isriath''s song responding to that. She was trying to focus on humans as a whole, focusing on huts and workshops and cutting trees. But when William sought to look at individual people, her music floundered. Isriath had not known any ordinary people or even about them. Her view of the workshops was hazy.


    She strove in vain for something.


    And yet the only image she could conjure was that of a young girl Anoa knew well hanging from a tree. Her eyes were dead, and he was shaking, and the image shifted. However, now Isriath could only focus on things with nothing to do with the humans.


    The match of their sounds echoed through the woods as flames began to grow in the eternal wood. Isriath stared at her harp as it shuddered. "What... my music...


    "My music is being overridden?! Consumed by your own notes?! How?! How has your song gained this power!"


    "It hasn''t," said William. "Your music is getting weaker."


    "What?! Impossible!" said Isriath.


    "Art is a form of expression that resonates directly from the soul of the one who creates it," said William. "Within the music, portraits, and writings we created is a reflection of our very cores.


    "Long ago, you cared and involved yourself in the world''s affairs.


    "However, you have become indifferent and heartless. You have thrown aside shame, curiosity, courage, and compassion. All in pursuit of meaningless pleasures. Favors have been substituted for morality.


    "The destruction that happens around you does not matter to you save as a source of inspiration. You do not care about it, and so your song is weak. Both of us have been playing our lives, Isriath. My life of fifteen years is not even half over, and yet you, older than the world itself, are running short."


    "No!" said Isriath, playing new songs of valiant elven armies. They fought off hordes of humans and claimed many lives in the defense. Many escaped the attacks and slew guards in battle, and only guards. Never civilians.


    But William''s theme showed the families of those killed.


    How they became ever more bitter and enraged as friends they knew disappeared. And others took up spears to defend themselves. So that what was once about territory soon became a blood feud between races. And the elves'' luck ran out as the forests were burned for interfering. The animals long kept in check by elves began to hunt the horses and were driven away.


    "I will not concede defeat!" said Isriath. "I have other memories to draw upon, far more distant! I shall return to the old; I shall spark the events again in my memory.


    "I am the Goddess of Music. I need no inspiration, for my hands have played across the ages of the cosmos. I have painted a thousand pieces and played songs in the courts in a thousand realities. No theme may be played that doesn''t ultimately come from me, nor can any create their music in my despite."


    William played against her, letting the song wash toward her. "Then why do I still play?"


    "You play because I allow you to play themes of my devising," said Isriath, eyes glowing. Her bangs flew behind her head to reveal a star on her brow. "Your song is matched against mine only because I have raised you as an opponent."


    "Then the music you fight is your own," said William, struggling to keep going. "You are trying to alter your own nature. You are afraid of experiencing the pain that Anoa the Bright inflicted. The harm that he did to the elves cannot be wholly undone, nor can the other atrocities of the universe.


    "Yet in your attempt to shut it from memory, you are worsening the damage.


    "Why do you fight yourself?"


    "Because she''s afraid," said Maius. "Isriath doesn''t like talking about bad things."


    "I fear nothing!" said Isriath. "I am Isriath, Queen of the Fairies! My music resounds through every realm of the cosmos! No court may shut me out, nor any beast dissuade me! And they do not heed my songs shall learn the dire costs of refusal!"


    "And what costs have been dealt to those who harm the innocent here?" asked William. "Those who spurn your gifts and yet benefit by them?


    "Who curses and mocks your name and yet uses your servants?"


    "It is my choice to punish those whom I will," said Isriath.


    "Yet what keeps you from victory here?" asked William.


    Isriath seemed about to unleash new songs, and yet she halted. For a moment, she seemed to contemplate some move. Then she shook her head and halted. "...Enough, that''s enough.


    "The match shall be concluded later."


    And they returned to the clearing. The animals were gone.


    "Huh, Isriath, warn me next time you do that," said Maius. "So I guess you belong to us, now, then? That''s fine by me; we''ve got this really good idea on how we can use your healing powers-"


    "You didn''t win," said William.


    "The match will be concluded later, Maius," said Isriath.


    "What?" said Maius. "How could we lose?! You controlled the outcome!"


    "The music he played was the music I refused to," said Isriath. "I''ve returned the children and all others I have taken and purified much of this land. I will return to Themious soon enough and make plans for the future. However, I should warn you, William. Your enemy is not a criminal or a single person, but a system."


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "The Sorcerer''s Guild would not be distributing malas in such a way without a purpose," said Isriath. "And in any event, I have played music in Haldren before.


    "How many cities are there within Haldren, William? And who could afford to buy such a large quantity of malas?"


    "Almost none, aside from the capital where King Gavin dwells," said William. "That, and the domain of Lord Telus."


    "How easy is it to travel throughout Haldren?" asked Isriath.


    "Difficult because of the snow and hills," said William. "It makes defending it far easier. Many areas of the coast are under perpetual snowfall."


    "So, how would a criminal organization from a foreign land make a profit?" asked Isriath.


    "...They couldn''t," said William. "Communication and enforcement would be impossible. Because the populations are smaller, everyone would know the distributor. They''d be executed as soon as they tried."


    "Now, the last question," said Isriath. "Who would have the money, pull, and reason to purchase large amounts of malas?"


    William considered it. "It can''t be House Telus; they have everything to gain by helping us. They''ve done incredibly well for us and are completely loyal. There are other enemies in Haldren, but none of them are rich enough. And King Gavin would never...


    "King Gavin."


    "A wise man in times of peace prepares for war," said Isriath.


    "There''s no proof of that," said Chun Xi. "King Gavin could have an entirely legitimate use for it. Perhaps he is attempting to create his own Sorcerer''s Guild and wants to stockpile it. House Gabriel has been harvesting malas in large quantities for the Sorcerer''s Guild. They sell it to Magicora.


    "Now they don''t need any of it.


    "You''d never have a better price for it than now. Likewise, the King of Estal, or House Stormstrike, might be buying. We don''t even have any guarantee that the entire stockpile was going to Haldren. Some of it could have been bound for Calisha, or Estal, or even back to Artarq."


    Isriath nodded. "I shall speak to the mages of the Sorcerer''s Guild and see if I can learn more. I might be able to work something out with them.


    "But I''m afraid that you may have to turn your attention to Carn Gable soon. Or you may find yourself without a place there. Farewell.


    "We''ll see each other again to finish our match."


    "Then I shall be prepared to face your music again, milady," said William.


    Maius halted and looked at him. "That was good music."


    And then she vanished in a flash of fire.


    Suddenly, Kiyora appeared out of nowhere. "Hey, I''m in the middle of helping some herdsmen find their sheep. Now I find out you challenged a Goddess of Music to a rock off.


    "Who one? You or the source of all songs?"


    "That seems a foolish question," said William.


    "That''s a good title," said Isriath, appearing. "I think I''ll use that." Then she was gone.


    "No one, it was a draw," said William. "The match will be decided later." Turning to see Jehair and Felix, he halted.


    "So, you then?" asked Kiyora.


    "...Jehair, where to now?" asked William.


    "We''ll head to the druid groves," said Jehair. "As we ought to have before if everything in the world hadn''t gone wrong."


    "That seems an excellent start," said Felix.


    "How much did you see?" asked William.


    "We were spectators," said Felix.


    "Maius and Isriath, there seem to be many Goddesses from Themious. All making power plays," said William. "And Kata thought the Shark Queen was working through Tanith. Why so sudden an appearance in Antion?"


    "Perhaps Elranor''s power has waned enough that they can enter," said Jehair. "Or perhaps he has yielded territory to them."


    Best to let her think he didn''t know. "It is my guess that Elranor ceded ground. Likely he knew these efforts could be brought into the open early. They emerged at precisely the right moment for the people of Antion to foil the plans of the wicked."


    "They are dangerous loose ends and must be accounted for," said Felix. "They will come back now, and unless mollified or broken, they will only cause trouble. So action must be contemplated."


    "Let''s deal with that problem when the time comes," said William. "I think I''ve been channeling Elranor''s will this whole time. That would explain why I''ve been so quick on the update.


    "So I will consult Lord Elranor before I make any plans in that regard."


    The morning was breaking, and the sun gleamed through the trees. Now William had to negotiate with the elves who Korlac had just antagonized. So here came the hard part.

 Chapter 164 - Sixteen: The Gnolls

    The woods seemed a bit cheerier as they walked with birds chirping brightly. The sun also seemed to reach down through the trees a bit more and warm them. There were even a few breezes in the muggy areas so everyone was in better spirits.


    "They''re war cries," said Jehair. "The birds are marking their territory and trying to impress a mate."


    William wondered just how long he had been in that battle, but the others had full memory of it. However, the sexual nature of the goddesses had not come to their minds. Time seemed to have flowed strange while he was in it. Jehair and Felix, and Massacre all seemed a bit dazed as well, and William did not blame them. The land sloped downward slightly, and they began to see old ruins.


    Broken stone places where once buildings had stood tall and proud as spires. William had seen illustrations of them, copied painstakingly by scribes in Carn Gable. Once they had reached to the sunlight above, but now they were humbled. Many were half-covered under the earth. Leaves were falling by the will of Laevian, and there were pools of crystal clear water.


    Such had been the will of Anoa the Bright and the punishment of Elranor.


    What had the wrath of the God of Death truly looked like? It must have been terrible and awe-inspiring to see. Elranor had never spoken harshly, or with anger, in all the time William had seen him. He had always been calm and cold but good, like pure and freshly fallen snow. To imagine him in rage was a terrible idea. Yet it had happened at points in history when his wrath had been stored up too long.


    "Are we near the druid enclave?" asked Willam.


    "Yes, very," said Jehair. "I shall be glad to reach it. Our battle with Maius and Isriath was... captivating. But it is time to go on."


    And go on, they did for a little while, as the land rose up and rocks became more common. But here and there, there were dips with a lot of water in them. Several new ponds had swamped the trees from rainfall William didn''t remember.


    "You''re all morons, you know that," said Imogen as she appeared. "All of you."


    "I don''t see your scythe," noted William, looking to Felix and then Jehair. "Where is it?"


    "Of course, I don''t have my scythe, you idiot," said Imogen. "I don''t use it until days of judgment!


    "Now, what is going on here? Why haven''t you called me before now?"


    "I wasn''t aware I was supposed to be getting into contact," said William. What was going on here exactly?


    "Ugh, fine, whatever," said Imogen. "I should have known Elranor would keep you in the dark.


    "We''ll call it a mulligan. Alright, I''m going to direct you to these gnolls, heal them, talk to them, call them over to my worship."


    "How do I know this is Elranor''s will?" asked William. "And how exactly are you both a proxy Goddess of Healing and a Thievery?


    "What is the connection?"


    "I stole it," said Imogen simply. "Obviously.


    "Zeya didn''t want the position, so I took it. You know, you have been causing me some major problems. Some chosen one you turned out to be.


    "Anyway, I''m here to help you.


    "Your friend Tanith Telus scares the hell out of me, and I''ve decided to try and patch things up. So I''m giving you a quest that will help advance your goals and fix things with your house.


    "Ordinarily, I take on a mortal form and handle this myself. But every so often, organized crime gets really bad. Then I get a lot of power, and I have to put a lot of work in.


    "The point is, Tanith is scary, and I don''t want to mess with her. So I''m giving you a quest."


    "I see," said William.


    William turned his thoughts to Elranor and fell to one knee. Raising his hands, he prayed and focused his energies. As he did, he saw Elranor.


    "Just cooperate," said Elranor. "I need you out there."


    William nodded and stood up. "I''ve been put at your disposal."


    "Finally, now let''s just get this over with," said Imogen, throwing aside strands of pink hair. "I need to get a report from Serna. I swear Nagos is planning something big here."


    "You are familiar with King Nagos?" asked William.


    "Yes, he''s an old companion," said Imogen. "I mean, under alias obvious. I don''t fear Lady Zeya, but Nagos scares me. Past his nice smile is the most dangerous man alive."


    "Of course," said William.


    William did not understand why Nagos was so universally respected. By all accounts, he was the King of a tiny remnant. A mere phantom of the old Naminaen Empire. Perhaps it was because of Chun Xi? She seemed influential.


    Imogen nodded. "Great.


    "You''re about to be ambushed. Talk your way out."


    And she was gone in a flash.


    William was beginning to feel exceptionally ill-treated. He had never volunteered his services to any of these people. Yet they seemed to take it for granted that he would do whatever they said. It was beginning to irritate him, especially since he was Imogen''s nemesis in this.


    And then came the gnolls from a circle, dozens of them. They held halberds in hand, and their hunched, doglike forms stunk. Their eyes were yellow. Though blue or yellow and hostile intent simmered beneath the surface. A few had huge maces. "Perceptive for a human.


    "So, who are you who walks unbarred into our domain?"


    "Forgive us entering unannounced," said William. "I am William Gabriel, and I am here to help you against the plague on behalf of the Goddess Imogen." He halted and considered things. Jehair was likely the common link.


    She had probably worked with them, and they assumed her presence meant he was in hand. So his plan had worked.


    "Plague?" asked the gnoll while some coughed.


    "Yes, there has been a plague spreading throughout the land, and I''ve been trying to heal it," said William. "Several plagues, in fact." Wonderful, now he had to go back to do more healing. Desperately he wanted to go do something else or rush through, but this was his appointed task.


    So he stayed resolute and thought about how good it was to be alive. To breathe and be strong of limb.


    "You came all the way out into the darkness of the marshes to heal us?" asked the gnoll leader.


    "Yes," said William. "Every person afflicted by a plague afflicts those around them. Every person healed may heal those they meet. You are as mortal as I, and so I must help you if I can.


    "You do have people afflicted by the plague?"


    "A few of them, yes," asked the gnoll. "You can heal them?"


    "I can try," said William.


    "Maybe we should listen to em, master. We''ve got a lot of-" said a gnoll.


    "I''m the one giving the orders!" said another gnoll, apparently the leader. "...You, follow me."


    "Of course," said William.


    And so they walked, and William quickly went up to the gnoll who had spoken. "Forgive me if I presume, but I would guess by your terrible visage that you are gnolls. The race of humanoid wolves who struck terror into so many households in ancient days."


    "No talking!" said the leader.


    "As you wish," said William.


    "This is a mistake," said Jehair. "We do not know these creatures will not kill us once we are in their den."


    "Bah," said Massacre, unnerving the satyrs.


    "Massacre is correct," said William. "We need not fear them so long as we are increasing their fighting power."


    "And why are we increasing their fighting power?" asked Jehair hurriedly. "They''re enemies of the druids, of House Gabriel? Helping them could be disastrous." Was she unaware William was on to her? It seemed possible.


    Did she seek redemption?


    She''d have to do something wrong to be redeemed. This was a legal matter. There was some panic in her tone.


    "That remains to be seen," said William, trying to be ambiguous.


    Then they came to a filthy series of shacks that could be generously called a village. Gnoll women were sewing and performing other day-to-day affairs. Filth was all over the ground, and the stench was horrific. Instead of a cesspit, they had a place where many gnolls were groaning. They were lying in the filth of a pit, disease.


    "...This is where you keep your sick and injured?" asked William, horrified.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Yeah, we throw ''em down there to rot," said the gnoll he''d spoken to before. "Most are probably dead by now. You want to go down there, be my guest.


    "Let''s see how the knight fights the plague."


    William nodded and scaled down a crude set of steps made from increasingly smaller logs. Eventually, he came to the gnolls, smelling rotting flesh. "Don''t be afraid.


    "I am here to save you."


    And he began his work. It was miserable and hot, and the air was filled with flies, and plague spirits fought against him. Every bit of flesh he healed seemed like it took a lifetime to work at, and when he finished the first gnoll, he was tired. But as he rose up and clambered out, William did it again.


    And again, harder each time.


    "You..." said a spirit. "You will rot..."


    "Rise and be healed," said William. "Elranor has freed you." Then he saw one standing up and staying to watch him work. "You, check the others; help me find the ones that are still alive. If you find any who are dead, move them to where they were. We''ll see about their burial."


    And it continued, with Jehair soon coming to help. It soon became clear that many gnolls were here, and several were already dead. It all became horrible, but William looked to his new companion. "What''s your name, friend?"


    "I''m Asan," said the gnoll. "I was a warrior for Arraxia before I went to fight in Khasmir. But I was sold into slavery by my own brethren. I escaped, only to be plagued."


    "Tell me, did you fight with any professional armies?" asked William.


    "Quite a few," said Asan, though it was a bit hard to understand his growling. "Calishans at one point."


    "Did you learn their methods of their organization?" asked William.


    Asan nodded.


    William healed another gnoll. "Right.


    "Well, help me get the others.


    "Your Chieftain doesn''t seem to like me."


    "He''ll kill you as soon as you outlive your usefulness," said Asan. "Rigis hates humans, and so do most of them. And elves he hates the most."


    "I''m quite sure he''ll try," said William.


    "You think you can kill him and his men?" asked Jehair, laying her hands on an injured gnoll.


    "It wouldn''t matter if I couldn''t," said William. "These people have to be healed."


    But, ultimately, they finished it and went up into the town. There they were somewhat ungraciously given more people to heal. William did so with Jehair while Massacre watched, licking her cat heads chops."


    "Is it finished?" asked Rigis.


    "Not yet, I''m afraid," said William. "There are many bodies down there from those who died before I arrived. They must be piled and burned, or they could infect you all again. It is a shame they were put down there; many others may have lived."


    "I don''t need the opinion of a simpering human!" said Rigis. "You lot, you''ve been taking it easy down there and know the place; get the corpses out of there!"


    "While they are working, Chieftain, there are some other matters," said William. He remembered his lessons under Raynald in creating a proper camp. "I''m afraid that this settlement has become unsanitary.


    "I can find no sign of a cesspit.


    "Where is one?"


    "Why the hell should I care about that?" asked Rigis.


    "The lack of cleanliness in this area is a source of flies and plague," said William. "The filth that has filled your streets must be cleansed and quickly, or any one of you could suffer from it. It could destroy your entire army in a few weeks."


    "It''s true; I''ve seen it happen on campaign in Khasmir," said Asan.


    "You''ve been on a campaign to Khasmir?" asked Jehair.


    "Yes," said Asan. "The Alpha drew me there to battle demons with my comrades. Our pikes claimed many lives in the name of Fortenex. But he was not our god."


    "Fine then, you lot, go clean it up," said Rigis to some of the newly healed people.


    This was an unpopular statement, to say the least.


    "You want us to-," began one.


    Rigis struck him dead with a blow from his pike and the others fled to perform their duties. "That''s how I deal with those who defy me! Go! Clean it up!"


    "Tell me, do any of you have longstanding injuries or scars?" asked William. "And are there any who have been seriously injured in this place?"


    And there were many, and he tended to each one as best he could. The labor was long and hard, and he watched as the gnolls tore down their nasty dwellings. It happened with little difficulty.


    Flames were put to them, and new ones dug in the sand.


    William had the feeling they had done this before. But the gnolls were starting to gather with Rigis near Massacre.


    "Bah," said Massacre threateningly.


    "I should avoid standing in front of her dragon head. Her breath can reduce flesh to char in seconds," said William as he worked. "Asan, you are familiar with the standard procedure for camp making?"


    "The Calishans drilled it into us every time we stopped," said Asan. "Dig a cesspit, set up a fence, that sort of thing."


    "I thought you served Fortenex," said William in surprise.


    "I changed sides to the Calishans when the village I defended was overrun," said Asan. "We killed many raishans before they came, but we had few priests.


    "Many were cut down as they tried to dispel the curses on the bodies, or worse."


    "I remember Khasmir," said William. "I was tasked with breaking those spells. That was nasty; I remember Tanith cut down hundreds of them. And Raynald even more than that, while I was stuck harping."


    "Bad luck," laughed Asan.


    "So tell me of this Alpha," said William.


    "Once, ages ago, the predators of the world were dumb and witless," said Asan. "For the elves did not want wolves and lions and others to have power. Only their horses and deer were allowed because they submitted to them.


    "We could not reason, for the Alpha was imprisoned in the domain of Feanor, now called Castle Blackfear. Now it took the form of a human girl, yet she broke free of her constraints and went out into the wilderness.


    "There, the Alpha gave forth its own flesh and blood to the wolves beneath the sight of Tamar. And as it died, it returned to the domain of Feanor and ran forth alone again. So it went, over and over. Each time, it submitted its flesh to be devoured beneath the sight of Tamar. And over many ages, we gained the power of speech.


    "There were five wolves which the Alpha chose to receive its gifts. There was Yamas, the cunning, who went and became a great friend of Baltoth. His daughter bred with Baltoth and created Telix, and inherited great intellect. They are always in one form, wolf or hybrid. Then there was Malice, the beautiful blonde wolf who created the werewolves. She has reincarnated in the form of Larxe, who resides in Castle Blackfear. She inherited the bloodlust of the world. They change shape between wolf and human.


    "Then there was also..." He sighed. "Snooky."


    "I''m sorry, what?" said William.


    "He was named that by the elves," said Asan. "He and his kind are quite dangerous, but they serve the elves of Qor''dana. They are always in the form of wolves and dedicate themselves to the service of Alchara. It was by their hand that Qor''Dana was never taken when the elves were at their weakest.


    "Last of all, there was Asan, who I am named for. He took on a form that was a mix between beast and man. We have no place, though Anoa saw to it we were spared and taught us to forge and fight. We learned well the ways of survival from him, but he always told us we could not count on him."


    "You know a great deal," noted William.


    "We tell stories," said Asan. "Or at least we did until Faras ordered we stop. We owe him fealty and rely on him for shelter, but we speak them outside the wood."


    "Interesting," said William, wondering if he would meet Faras was as he drew out his notes. "Would you mind if I wrote all this down? I''d love to tell the story." S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No," said Asan. "Why the interest?"


    "Someday, I hope to compile a detailed history of Anoa the Bright," said William, writing quickly. "To do that, I must hear all sides of the tale, to make as complete a guess as I can. One moment." And he finished. "Well then, Chieftain Rigis, I believe it would be best for a cesspit to be built in this village. I ask that you put Asan in charge of several men to do so. All waste should be thrown in there henceforth."


    "Fine then, do it immediately. And you two, get on the sides of that chimera," said Rigis.


    "But-" began a gnoll.


    "Now!" said Rigis.


    "Jehair, would the druids object to the building of a palisade?" asked William.


    "Of course," said Jehair. "It would require the felling of many trees."


    "I see," said William, before looking to Asan. "What sort of alternative defenses would you be able to raise without trouble? To keep out wild animals and the like?"


    "We could raise a hill of sand," said Asan.


    "Who are you talking to!" said Rigis.


    "I am simply trying to help your people turn this place into a greater stronghold," said William. "If you do not want a wall built, I will no longer pursue the matter."


    "I''ve heard enough of this! Kill them! Kill them now!" said Rigis.


    Massacre roared, and the gnolls scattered. Asan''s supporters stood by watching, now armed.


    "Let he who is most bloodthirsty come against us first," said Jehair. No one moved. "Hmm, it seems there is little enthusiasm for an attack now, isn''t there? Perhaps we could arrange for combat by champion?


    "With your permission, of course, William."


    "As you wish," said William. She was asserting control here.


    Then she and Rigis went at it. Pike and scythe clashed again and again as they circled. A smooth dance-like striking countered Rigis'' jabbing motions by Jehair. William watched with interest. Rigis'' blows were fast and lethal, and he attacked with brutal fury. One Jehair matched with careful footwork.


    Back and forth they went, with Rigis'' stabs being outmaneuvered. When it became clear Jehair would not fall quickly, he slowed his assault. Jehair launched her own attack, striking with flurries. She seemed to move to and fro, and for a moment, her hair seemed like rose petals as she shot past Rigis, then again.


    Yet Rigis predicted her attacks and defended. A slight wound was on the one hand, and Jehair seemed frustrated, though she hid it well. In the light, her hair seemed almost golden.


    "Rigis is quite good, isn''t he?" asked William. He thought Jehair very beautiful as she fought, for she seemed almost three people. The brown-haired druid, and the golden-haired one, younger somehow, and also the one with hair of pink.


    She spun the scythe tirelessly as Rigis met each blow. Marks appeared on his pike. But he stabbed and cut one of the braids on Jehair''s hair, causing it to flow around her in the light. Leaping back, she smiled in an almost girlish fashion as though many years had fallen from her. Was this a spirit?


    Or was it the elvish lifecycle in action? The old Jehair falling away, and the new one coming about.


    "He has to be," said Asan, crossing his arms. "One always has to be able to fight for dominance, or you lose it."


    "Harlenorians have a similar approach," said William. "Though I confess, yours has greater purity."


    "We''re proud of that," said Asan. "You Harlenorians ought to go back to the old ways."


    "Well, as much as we would like to, it isn''t possible," said William.


    "Do you serve Imogen," asked Asan.


    "For the present, I am here on behalf," said William. "But, in truth, I wonder if she did not have some part to play in the chaos I have come to this place for."


    "Yes, we did notice the suicide pact of the Lords of Antion," said Asan.


    "Indeed, I hope it does not stick," said William. "A few messages in the wrong place and the entire nation falls to bits, and rightly so.


    "Amazing, isn''t it? The power of ink on a page?"


    Jehair slid backward, defending rapid strikes from Rigis. Her hair flew around her as she caught his halberd. Now they were locked together, and her strength was failing her. She looked a bit worried.


    "Is this woman your lover?" asked Asan.


    "No," said William. "She''s a guide and much stronger than me. I''d hate to fight her in some dark place. But she''s well-connected and knows these lands.


    "I rather think I''ve taken her off her right road.


    "I think she was hoping to take the road straight to Gel Carn.


    "She had some notion of the mess that was unfolding and wanted to get away from it. One can hardly blame her; Jehair is connected to everyone. Everyone, and yet she''s not associated with any faction.


    "If what I''ve heard is true, she was fighting and leading back when House Gabriel were minor nobility."


    Jehair suddenly turned the halberd and threw it from Rigis'' hands. Then her scythe lashed out, and he flinched. She stepped back, and a moment later, Rigis head fell from his shoulders. The golden-haired one faded, and Jehair looked suddenly old. Cleaning her scythe, she bowed the body of the fallen.


    "Jehair is victorious!" said Asan. "The elf has won!


    "I now rule this pack, and any who oppose me shall suffer for it!"


    "You are a puppet of the elves-" began one.


    And that was how Asan started knocking off heads. There was a full fight, and several were killed before the end, and at last, he had established dominance. "If any gnoll dares cross me, let him face me in single combat like Rigis! Come forward any who would challenge me!"


    But no one did by now, so much the better.


    "Well, it appears that matter is concluded. However, I should hazard that you have taken after all the aspects of the Alpha," said William. "Now then, I have no designs on ruling or conquering you. However, with all your permission, I would like to finish operations here."


    "You may make suggestions," said Asan. "We need to rebuild the settlement from the ground up. Tear down the structures and dig new holes. We''ll make the cesspit and do as he said; I''ve been saying for years we needed to get organized! And I had to call in humans to get rid of Rigis!"


    William let this pass.


    And so the labors began, and they did not end there. Asan soon led them to several other villages, and there William worked while he conquered. It wasn''t long before the gnolls were all busy cleansing their old haunts.


    But in one village, William found many cages of humans and other races enslaved. All in terrible conditions. They were filthy and desperate, had not been eating, and looked to have been made sick.


    "Who are these people you''ve been keeping caged?" asked Jehair, taking charge. William stood to one side, looking at their injuries and desperate eyes. It made him sick to the stomach, but he refused to throw up.


    "They are prisoners. We''re storing them on behalf of someone to sell," said a gnoll.


    "Sell to who?" asked Jehair.


    "Someone named Cirithil," said Asus. "We go out into the lands of Blackfear and seize people, take ''em back here. Then he sells them to the Plantations out in Sorn. We''ve been doing it for months.


    "His agent comes down here every few days after ministering. He says he is saving their souls and does a ritual. Actually, his armor was like his."


    "What was his name?" asked William.


    "Lamech," said Asus. "He enjoys his work."


    "Lamech is doing work as a minister?" asked William. Lilas and Cirithil were bad enough, but Lamech was as well. He wore black skull armor?! What was he doing in the church?!


    "He''s the Bishop of Blackfear," said Asus. "I heard he was the lowest bidder for the position. But all the people who bid higher fell off tall towers, which all had excellent railings, which they had to bend out of shape to get over.


    "Anyway, after all of them died, Lamech got a position as a Bishop of Blackfear. Now that''s some smart business."


    Wiliam put his face in his hands. "Who is running this country?"


    "Is this done with the knowledge of the local Lord?" asked Jehair, putting a hand on his shoulder sympathetically. Evidently, she had heard of this sort of thing before.


    Even the gnolls knew about it.


    "Don''t know, don''t care," said the gnoll. "Atravain controls more land than she can administer. There some paperwork over there with the authorization." He pointed to a shack where a case of simple leather was inside.


    "Take it or not, last we heard Cirithil is on his way out. What do we care?"


    William went over to it and opened the case with Jehair behind him. Drawing it out, read it on a desk in a tent before shuddering in horror. They were many requests and authorization for the shipment of slaves. Names and dates, and accounts of their race, age, and gender. And on it was a similar marking. All in a very beautiful hand.


    "...This bears the sigil of the High Priest," said William. "And the ink is smudged, as though he stamped it without looking at it.


    "In the meantime, these people have been sent to you as a trap."


    "What do you mean?" asked Asan.


    "Their purpose here is to give your enemies a justification to invade you," said Jehair. "Let me heal these, see them fed and send them on your way. To keep them here invites the wrath of Harlenor.


    "I have already seen such tactics used before.


    "And also tell House Gabriel what is happening."


    "Why should we?" asked Asan.


    "Tavish has fallen from power, or very nearly," said Jehair. "Even if you find a buyer for this, the High Priest is gone. So you might get stiffed on your payment, and whoever did it might use them as an excuse to kill you."


    "Let them come; we''d prefer a straight fight to test the walls," said Asan to laughter.


    "I''d rather fight it out with you when you had rather a larger army," said William, trying to keep his composure.


    "Really?" asked Asan. He must have succeeded.


    "We like a challenge," said William.


    "And what do you suggest?" asked Asan.


    "Send word to my Uncle Arthur Gabriel in Brisgald and offer to ransom these to him," said William. "Say that they were intruders in your domain. I''ll write a letter to him explaining the true nature of things, and you can get a profit for their release. And send all of these documents to him undamaged.


    "House Gabriel doesn''t believe in slavery or reckless invasions. They will respect your claims. It could be a powerful political tool if you also send them this documentation."


    Asan nodded. "Very well.


    "We don''t have any use for the filthy things. We''ll play things your way, but this had better be worth it."


    "Of course," said William. "And don''t talk to anyone about this. We don''t know who Cirithil has corrupted. Anyone you talk to could be an agent." And he put the papers back in the case. "Burn this place.


    "And tell as much to anyone who comes looking. I''ll take these to King Faras."


    Asus nodded.


    William did as done before, and the people were given a meal and some rations and guided out toward the villages. From there, William wondered how many of these slaves had already been sold. What fate would befall them? That of the Furbearers?


    "Elranor," said William. "Guide these people to freedom and good fortune.


    "I cannot go with them. Massacre, protect them to the edge of the wood, then come right back." Then he halted and realized how much he needed her. "...You know, Massacre. I don''t think you get nearly enough credit. So many problems are easily solved when a chimera is at your back."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    Imogen did not show up, however, no matter how many villages visited. But, perhaps he had earned that.

 Chapter 165 - Seventeen: Blood and Water

    House Kern''s fortress was disappointing as always.


    Salvaging the Babarassian ruins was a task left to many of Sokar''s men and they had to pick through the wreckage of the settlements. Last Tanith had heard, they''d been finding a lot of valuables, though some of it had been destroyed. There had been trade goods focused in a basement below the surface that had mostly survived, now taken as plunder. True to William''s prophecy, not one Babarassian remained alive among it, though some had avoided the fire to die of smoke in the basement. Tanith wondered if Elranor had inspired it, or if William or Felix had just done some of that analysis they had been taught by Vanion. Tanith didn''t have the head for that kind of thing. Either way, the dragon had burned them all out, and it had taken some time to find anything. But many weapons and armor were found usable, and the Furbearers were much better armed.


    Huzzah for weapons.


    So it was that Sokar took them by paths through the hills and up craggy slopes, a decision which was more interesting. But interesting also meant it was a lot harder. The snow only became thicker, and Tanith thought they should have been slowed. Instead, however, they moved all the faster. The very land conspired to give them safe passage. So that now they came within sight of House Kern.


    And it was disappointing.


    It was a much older variety of fortress, and the walls were not that high. Nor were the towers particularly impressive. It stood between two large cliffs. It was the only entry point to the realm of King Gavin from this side of the mountains. Close examination showed that there had been recent attacks on it.


    Snow was beginning to clear, but it looked to have been very heavy.


    Through a telescope Sokar had stolen from the wreckage, Tanith saw warriors training. Not all of them were Harlenorians, but none were Babarassian. Dark-skinned but no Furbearer, they had a different hairstyle. The buildings they were drilling in front of were of a different make, the sort Tanith used to burn. The militia were well-trained, and they seemed to be at least a few hundred in number.


    There were also a few hundred men of Harlenorian drilling a little ways away. Both were working very hard at it. They were not as well-armed as House Gabriel''s men but better than anyone in Antion''s militias. Tanith got the impression they did not like eachother, but Lord Kern was walking this way and that.


    He was inspecting the troops with keen eyes, and he had short white cropped hair. His garb was white as snow, and he seemed almost like a vision Elranor Tanith had once seen.


    Like Elranor, but not like him, he was not above the world but detached from it, and his understanding was lesser. Then again, that was perhaps the understatement of the century. What truly interested Tanith was Edward Kern, clad in armor except on his right side. That wore the same sleeve he always held, and the hand had a glove on it. At his side was a sword, and he seemed to be analyzing everything.


    "I could just shoot him," said Sokar, now clad in chainmail with a large axe. "I''ve got a sling and everything." He spun the length of leather.


    "No need," said Tanith. "It''s against the laws to harm nobility. These people down here are Drens.


    "Felix taught me the difference between them. Sort of a cultural divide, Medi is smarter and more civilized. Drens are used for drudgework and less intelligent, I think.


    "I''d never heard they were treacherous in nature.


    "What are they doing out here? They can''t be real Calishans; Gavin would never be stupid enough to let them in."


    "Some of my people say that they are fleeing from Neseriah," said Kata. "Worshippers of a god called Valranor, I think. I guess Baltoth threw him off his throne."


    "No," said Tanith. "Valranor is dead and has been dead for ages.


    "They worship the idea that Baltoth and Valranor have a kind of dual nature. And Baltoth was substituted for Valranor because of the sins of the faithful. I learned a thing or two from the villages I burned.


    "They have similar beliefs in Fortenex. So it''s a good way to transition from one god to another."


    "Why did you burn so many villages?" asked Kata.


    "They were raids," said Tanith. "You try to destroy as much of the enemy forces as possible.


    "Besides, everybody in those towns knew how to fight. And they did exactly the same thing to the satyrs who lived in the domain of Neseriah once. Killed every last one of them because they caused a lot of trouble. No other realms in Baltoth''s domain did that kind of genocide, and Argath didn''t hit those.


    "Come to think of it; I didn''t fight any of these guys. Worshippers of Valranor, all of them invoked Baltoth and Calisha. Probably some sort of divine purge or something."


    "Is that a thing?" asked Sokar.


    "Well, I guess there is such a thing as a society so evil you can''t redeem, but I wouldn''t know," said Tanith. "I barely even remember anything from those days.


    "It was a nightmare. Argath screaming orders. Always threatening the knock on the heads of anyone who showed mercy. Everyone either talking about how they were pure evil or boasting about their kills."


    "What did you do?" asked Kata.


    "I did my job," said Tanith. "I was first in every charge and last in every retreat, just like Argath. I showed no mercy to anyone I wasn''t ordered to show mercy to. Eventually, I took a priestess of Baltoth hostage and enslaved her.


    "That was the whole point of the operation. Desecrating Baltoth''s people and spreading fear and terror among them. I mean, nobody knew what they were getting into. But after Argath burned our ships, we either had to take more ships or die.


    "Anyone we left alive would lead our enemies to us. We had to do it, and there wasn''t any other kind of entertainment. So we learned to enjoy blood, and I enjoyed it most of all."


    "...You were a slave," realized Kata. "Just like us.


    "Just like them.


    "You lost your freedom to Argath Marn. That''s why you cut down that tree."


    "What tree?" asked Sokar.


    "Back when Tanith was fighting in Gel Carn," said Kata. "Gail Arengeth tried to help her. He grew a tree and explained that how it was cared for would affect his life and all her life.


    "Now, she''d been working with Argath Marn and had been quarreling. He had trained her into what she was. And now he was trying to get her to abandon who she was. Because he had seen too much of himself in her."


    They were speaking of her as though she wasn''t there. As a figure of quasi-religious significance, a kind of story. Tanith decided she didn''t care and remained silent.


    Sokar halted. "Right, I remember when you told that story, Tanith.


    "That was what all this was about. If you''d left the tree standing, you might have been happier. But it would nullify who you were as a person; you''d just be some stray animal Gail Arengeth tamed.


    "Never again to be important.


    "Argath Marn refused to give you the respect you wanted. And the table scraps thrown to you out of pity enraged you. So you choose to hurt everyone rather than accept false freedom."


    "That''s your imagination," said Tanith. "No, it was just the lack of respect.


    "House Gabriel are my allies, and William is my friend. Being ''tamed'' by Arengeth would imply Arengeth had authority over them and me."


    "That can''t be it," said Sokar. "That was an emotional decision Tanith. You aren''t that calculating."


    "Because I won''t be used as a tool," said Tanith. "Ever.


    "Anyone who attempts to use me as a tool is going to lose my loyalty."


    "I can respect that," said Sokar.


    "Where did these worshippers of Valranor come from?" asked Taith.


    "A lot of reserves were mobilized for the fight in Artarq. But the war ended early with Banir''s humiliation," said Sokar. "So they got canceled. These ones decided to flee here to Haldren and take up service with Lord Kern.


    "Vanion''s formed malas business had a side business smuggling troops out for a bit. At least until Felix crucified the crews, who did so by the river."


    "Is that legal?" asked Tanith.


    "He handed them over to the Calishans to be crucified," said Kata. "We figured it out while you were scouting yesterday. I never thought he''d do something like that."


    "He had to," said Tanith. "When you negotiate, your power is based on trust.


    "Lord Kern down there, in theory, could make a favorable peace with you right now. But nobody would trust him. So he''s going to have to deal with the fact that you don''t trust him for his entire life. He made a few minor short-term gains and ripped his credibility to shreds.


    "Now, these Drens, they''ll need to be killed. All of them, before their families are brought over."


    "Isn''t that a bit much?" said Kata, looking at her in shock. She looked cute when she was shocked.


    "Who do you think was going to be given your lands?" asked Tanith. "If Kern had depopulated you, he could send these in. Start new settlements loyal to him, and he influences a much larger region.


    "Their very existence gives Kern a means to enslave the common people. Once he has an organization of slave soldiers reliant on him, he can play them against his own people. The man is replacing his own race for money."


    "Are you sure it''s just money?" asked Kata, doubtfully.


    "Or a throne or power or something," said Tanith. "Whoever they are, they''ve cleared breached the laws of Harlenor as laid out by Anoa. In spirit, if not in law.


    "You look after your own kind."


    "Are there actually laws?" asked Sokar.


    "More general principle and code than laws," said Tanith. "It was all formalized long after Anoa ascended into heaven. He generally left most places to run their own affairs so long as they did their job.


    "We can''t miss this opportunity."


    "Can you bring your forces in?" asked Kata.


    "Maybe," said Tanith. "But that makes things complicated.


    "If we can get enough of a force and route these idiots without using support from Father. That gives you bargaining power. If you call us in, you''re in our debt."


    "I think we''d better go meet Father," said Kata. "They say that he''s gathering strength in our main stronghold of Culdash. Anoa laid siege to it once for three days, and we survived."


    "You lasted three days?" asked Tanith. If it were anyone other than Anoa it''d be pathetic.


    Stolen story; please report.


    "It was toward the end of the war," said Sokar. "I think he was tired of fighting. Neral Dinis was dead by that point and didn''t come back for a long time.


    "Those two had a major personal hatred."


    "I hadn''t heard much about it," said Tanith. "Then again, nobody likes to talk about the Withering days of Haldren."


    "Well, I''m going to do some more research," said Sokar. "This is our history, and we''re forgetting it."


    "Well, you can forget it some other time," said Tanith. "I''m making an appearance."


    And she stood up on the ledge. Edward and Kern looked up in shock, and Kata and Sokar stood up as well. Tanith waved and smiled, and the son looked at his Father. Kern motioned, and the men ceased drilling to stand motionless.


    What was this, a trust exercise?


    "Well," said Tanith. "I''d say that''s enough of an appearance.


    "We''ll head right back to this Culdush place," said Tanith. "Sokar, you command."


    "Do as she says," said Sokar to the men as they walked down. "But leave watchers here to ensure no attack is made."


    Off they went.


    Several ambushes were set up in the snow in case they were followed. But the real battleground was on a bridge. The ice of the river below was melting and would break if anyone tried to cross it. But beyond, they found many high snowbanks that could be hidden within. Here, Sokar set most of his troops on hills and kept them hidden so Tanith could not see them. They wielded spears and slings, and many stones and more were on the hills.


    "Explain something to me," said Tanith. "How is it that you haven''t been invaded before? You haven''t been seriously attacked in generations."


    "We had certain promises made to us by Elranor," said Sokar. "Though I only recently read up on them in Ascorn. So long as we are kind to outsiders and good in nature, our security is guaranteed.


    "It seems that promise has been broken."


    "Gods do not break promises Sokar," said Kata. "Or they are not gods."


    "Well then, how do you explain this?" asked Sokar. "I won''t deny that he kept it a long time. But clearly, our security was not guaranteed here."


    "There is a promise you can''t keep," noted Kata. "Yes, we were kind to Tavish and hospitable. But I do not think he had any real will left in the matter.


    "An army was already being raised, and we were defenseless.


    "We''ve forgotten our old traditions; Tanith knows more about some of them than we do. You learned about our old culture from a book you found on a slavers desk.


    "The people that promise was made to are lost.


    "Our soul is lost to our own complacency."


    It was too perfect, reflected Tanith as they continued.


    It was as though she had been placed into a realm where all the things she believed and knew were proven correct. The foolish but worthy savages were met. They grew stronger under her tutelage and killed her political enemies. House Gabriel grew stronger, and everything worked out.


    And William became in time a mighty King, and Tanith would be a warrior Queen by his side. Their ill-spent youth was long forgotten as they passed beyond the veil of reality. And into myth and legend. Pain would be there, but glory, immortality, and unending battles.


    But it was all nonsense.


    Tanith was but a vessel by which they perceived the working of their Goddess, the Shark Queen. She stood now in a refounding of old traditions in a culture she never cared about. Religious ecstasy might come for others and great joy. Yet Tanith herself was left outside. A convenient means of getting from one place to another.


    The Shark Queen had worked through her, but she was not the Shark Queen, nor even of the Shark Queen. The storm that had been summoned was for Kata and Sokar''s benefit, not hers. Tanith had no stake in this venture, no great reason not to depart at once and never return.


    Was the purpose of this then redemption for her?


    Unlikely.


    If there was some kind of redemption for her in this, she''d have seen some sign by now. Some appearance or provided eucatastrophe that demonstrated her sins were forgiven. But, perhaps she did not warrant it.


    No, no, no.


    Elranor appeared to people all the time. And Tanith was a very accomplished individual who had done many great deeds. Everything she had done had been in the name of Elranor, and yet she''d never felt him near. Not once had she felt a stern sense that what she was doing was wrong. Perhaps she hadn''t really believed.


    Her gaze turned to the medallion given to her by Kusher.


    Had taking this damned her in some way? Ridiculous, any number of other warriors had taken them. Never had she prayed to Kreshlak or any other deity besides Elranor.


    What was the purpose of calling Tanith up here?


    Why had she been chosen for this task and not William or some other?


    Tanith was an accomplished warrior, beautiful and strong, but Suran was nearly as good. He could easily have served here. Tavish, too, if Elranor had pulled the right strings. So why was Tanith the ideal choice? Obviously, her faith was worth nothing to him, so perhaps some unique quality?


    Bloodthirsty, vicious, aggressive, and prone to every sin Tavish had committed.


    Tanith didn''t want to save the Furbearers; in fact, she was sick of it. There was no good reason her personality suited this task. And even if it was changing her, it did not matter since William was doing that already. Others like her could serve.


    So, what made Tanith special here?


    She was related to Edmund Telus, who had hated Lord Kern for years and shared a border with the Furbearers. Thus making her an ideal tool.


    There was real politics in heaven as well as on the good earth.


    Disgusting.


    Tanith would have liked to think that someone would notice she was troubled. But nobody paid her any more attention. Kata and Sokar were busy leading, and she followed behind, a secondary player in her own story.


    Then again, it wasn''t her story.


    So she moved on ahead and decided to get the miserable thing over with, so she could go back to killing Calishans. "I can''t believe the Babarassians just got wiped out by a dragon.


    "I suppose the Shark Queen might like the novelty."


    Nobody answered.


    Coming to a halt, Tanith saw the castle of Culdush. It was... immensely disappointing. They''d taken the fastest route to the border, just in case, and had missed it. On the other hand, they had not missed much, little more than six foot stone wall on a hill. It was well-manned and well-maintained, and an unimpressive-looking man was down there.


    He had long brown hair and was handing out blankets while men with spears stood by. But Kata and Sokar ran to him as though reuniting with their god.


    "Father!" said Kata, throwing down her spear and embracing him.


    And Sokar too.


    "Sokar, Kata," said Osris. "When I heard you were back, I hardly dared to hope. We managed to hold Caldush, obviously. And we''ve been trying to rebuild things as best we can, and I''ve stepped up training.


    "Our men are on watch.


    "With the destruction of the Babarassians by a... dragon, we at least one have one front war."


    "So what''s the plan?" asked Sokar eagerly.


    "At present," said Osris. "Survival.


    "I''ve already sent messengers to Edmund Telus informing him of the situation. But we may have to abandon the lowlands entirely if things go badly. Kern has a substantial force, and I believe he is out for blood now.


    "Or, what has taken Kern''s place."


    "What do you mean?" asked Kata.


    "Kern has always had two sides to him," said Osris. "Back when we adventured together, he was always kind and pleasant. But as time went on, I began to see another face. It continued to grow, even after our adventures ended.


    "I''m afraid whatever it was that has been eating him has taken him over entirely. At least, unless it involves his family. We may be fighting for years."


    Sokar nodded.


    Tanith had to admit, she was impressed. She''d taken him for weak, but it was obvious he knew what he was doing. The guards were ready and watching, and if an attack was made, there would be a real fight.


    And they would lose.


    "We can''t wait," said Sokar. "I''m sorry, Dad, I know Kern was your friend. But no matter what truce we make, the Harlenorians will come after us sooner or later.


    "They respect only strength. We''ve got to fight a war and win it.


    "Now, right now, Edmund and Kern are suspicious. So if we can beat Kern after he attacks us and do some real damage...


    "It''ll get us respect.


    "And once we have the respect, we can make a real truce." sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, we have a hostage," said Osris. "Unfortunately, it''ll only buy us time.


    "Who is your friend?"


    And that was how the whole story was retold again, and Tanith enjoyed listening to it even less than last time. The only good bits were when people were killing eachother, and there were precious few of those.


    Osris listened. "Well then, it appears we''ve had a very happy misunderstanding thus far.


    "Your brother was selling us for slaves."


    Tanith went chill. Anborn was employed here? Had she been fighting her own house? "....Is he dead?"


    "No," said Osris. "Nor are any of the men that accompanied him. They were returned to Edmund Telus unharmed.


    "But he remains with us. He''d leave for long periods of time and then go into the slave pits and sing. It was absolutely infuriating and made everything worse."


    "Which brother?" asked Tanith, already knowing the answer.


    "Tanith..." said Kata.


    "Which brother?" said Tanith.


    Osris went still. "Anborn Telus.


    "He has been the representative of your House for some time. Though he spent very little time here."


    "Where is Anborn?" asked Tanith.


    "We''re not giving him up," said Sokar.


    "I''m not asking you to give him up," said Tanith, now feeling real rage. "I''m asking you to put me in the same room as him.


    "Where is he?"


    "I will allow you to go to him," said Osris. "But only if you give your swords to Kata as trust."


    Tanith did so, and Kata took them.


    "You''ve both grown up," said Osris.


    "We had to," said Kata, smiling. "Tanith, I''m sure your brother is alright."


    "I''m worried he''ll be dead, and Father will have to avenge him. Unfortunately, that means finding him alive," said Tanith.


    "You wish your brother dead?" asked Osris.


    "Why wouldn''t I?" asked Tanith. "When I was growing up, he was always lazing around. He never put any work into studies, sword fighting, or anything else. He was too much of a coward to go to war, and he didn''t want to make his own efforts. Every responsibility he is offered, he runs from.


    "He gambles and drinks and wastes his time reading. And he loafs around while everyone else has to work overtime to compensate for his failings.


    "...Who got him this job? Do you know?"


    "I gather he was given the position by Lord Kern on urging from Lord Rius," said Osris. "Or so he tells me. I believe the go-between was a merchant called Lilas."


    "That treacherous bastard!" said Kata. "You were right about him, Tanith! You were right all along!"


    "Not now, Kata," said Tanith.


    She was led to an enclosure within the fortress, and a door was opened. Inside, Tanith saw her brother, a man older than her by several years. He had slicked-back blonde hair, big innocent eyes, and did not at all look like a bad sort. On the contrary, when he turned, he smiled like some child waiting for a meal. "Tanith?


    "You''re here; I''m really glad to see you. Did you know that this fortress was-"


    "It''s not cute anymore," said Tanith. "Anborn, what is going on here? Why are you taking jobs from our political enemies?"


    Anborn shifted, putting his hands together as if in prayer. "Please don''t hit me, sis.


    "I''ve just been doing some business ventures. Lord Kern gave me some business opportunities. Um, actually, I seem to have lost a lot of my merchant holdings.


    "Well, maybe we can work to get them back together."


    Anborn had no idea what he was doing. That was no excuse. "Does Father know about what you were doing here? Did you get his permission?"


    "Well, I mean, he kept pushing me to go on campaign," said Anborn. "But I mean, all those warriors and such are really mean. And they kept leaving me behind.


    "So I thought I''d go and try to make my fortune here. And I mean, Tavish, he offered me a major loan to get started out here and..."


    "For how much?" asked Tanith.


    "I uh..." asked Anborn.


    "How much did you lose?!" said Tanith, starting to lose control.


    "Sis, I uh..." Anborn halted. "It was going really well. I mean, I got connected to this guy named Reg Hawkthorne who had plans to take control of Ascorn.


    "Tavish asked me to take charge of the operation. And yes, he''s technically a criminal, but deep down, he''s really a nice guy. And he is actually protecting people from that mean jerk Atravaine and..." Tanith struggled to keep her composure. "It''s just money."


    "Just money?!" said Tanith. "Do you know what happens when a noble gets put into debt?!


    "Did you command the operations? Who were your subordinates? Why didn''t your guards do something about this?"


    "I uh, there were some mercenary officers Tavish supplied. Originally I was just harping for them, but Lord Kern gave me a better position on the part of Lord Rius. They usually gave me things to sign and I read through them and-


    "I did read them, honest! I came here to try and take responsibility because William said I should! Please, sis! Don''t hurt me again, please!!"


    His actions were those of an idiot, not a monster.


    That was why he had stayed alive, walking from town to town smiling and getting everyone into trouble. His companions were attacked, and he ran away only to come back later, expecting to be part of the group. He accompanied a questing knight, and his idiocy saw the man lose everything he owned. He was told to act as a guide to a secret mission, and he blew the whole thing by publically announcing it. Yet no one killed him or punished him, and Edmund Telus was helpless to stop his own humiliation.


    And now, he had reached the end of his long journey and lucked out by being given a position of authority he did not deserve. Only this position was in charge of an illegal slaving operation. So now Tanith was supposed to just accept who he was and smile and let him get off. Like everyone else.


    As usual.


    Tanith lunged, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him against the wall. It broke beneath the impact, and he screamed like a child as he hit the ground. Whimpering, Tanith moved forward and kicked him in the teeth, bloodying his mouth. He didn''t lose any to Tanith''s disappointment. Then grab him by the hair she smashed him against the stone wall. He fell to the ground and tried to scale, but she grabbed his hand and bit his fingers.


    Anborn screamed, and Tanith shut him up by smashing him across the face with her hand. Kicking him again while he was down, he tried to stand up. But Tanith grabbed him and, seeing an altar of the Shark Queen, pulled him along. He pulled out of his cloak, but she was on him, savagely kicking him to quiet him down. Finally pulling him to the alter, she threw him down onto it and drew her knife.


    "Please, sis! Please don''t kill me!" screamed Anborn. "I won''t do it again! Please don''t kill me!"


    "I''ll kill him!" roared Tanith, raising it. "I will kill him!


    "ANBORN WILL DIE!!"


    But Anborn pulled off the altar in a final desperate move, falling to the ground. She halted her dagger rather than stab into it. Climbing over it, Tanith walked after him, smiling. She''d waited years for this, and now she could finally do it with a clear conscience.


    Anborn was in agony. All his inexplicable luck and charm could not save him now. His was bloody; his every limb was in agony. And Tanith was supposed to pity him because mean old daddy expected him to make something of himself.


    She''d take her time with this.


    She deserved it after all these years. Kata stepped forward but was caught by her own people.


    "The Shark Queen is taking vengeance," said Osris. "We cannot interfere."


    And not one Furbearer stood in her way. Anborn had nowhere to run to, and the Furbearers regarded her as an avatar of the Shark Queen. Now she was at him, but the miserable creature was at someone''s feet.


    Tanith saw her and, in some sense, knew she had always known her.


    "Get out of my way, Imogen," said Tanith. "I''ll kill him over your corpse if I must."


    "You can''t do this," said Imogen. "You can''t use a human being as a vessel to murder their blood. Just because your power is channeling through her doesn''t make her your subordinate.


    "This a blatant overstepping of the rules."


    "Who''s using a vessel?" asked Tanith. "I''ve wanted Anborn dead for years. I have known nearly a decade of hatred for him.


    "And now I have the chance to do it!"


    "Mother will be upset!" said Anborn.


    "Mother is through with you!" said Tanith.


    "House Telus has no use for a coward who abandons his friends! You go from town to town, romancing redheads until they realize what a spoiled child you are!


    "And so you move on, listless and devoid of meaning, bringing ruin on allies! And now, having taken up with the enemies of our House and turned on your own family, you plead mercy?


    "How much mercy have you been given already? How many times do others have to suffer your stupidity before you learn?"


    "This is not a proportionate response!" said Imogen.


    "Yeah, and you''re a trustworthy source here," said Tanith, backhanding her. "The Goddess who is half-responsible for this mess is complaining. You''ve already killed far better men than Anborn with your backstabbing. If you don''t want to be up next, you little bitch, you''d better shut up!" She looked to Anborn, who was quivering in fear. The ground was soaked in his blood. "If I hadn''t sworn to Mother that I would not gut you when I was twelve...


    "Do you know what you have done?! You''ve just nearly started a war! You''ve killed hundreds of thousands of people and destroyed the balance of power!"


    "So did you," said Anborn, trying to stand.


    Tanith kicked him again and, grasping a stick, hit him repeatedly with.


    "Yes, but I did that on purpose out of misguided well-intentions and bloodlust," said Tanith. "You didn''t even have the guts to do that! You just flittered away your time and let your talents go to waste! And Sunthred and I have had to work overtime just to keep you from disgracing our family name!


    "What were you thinking?!"


    "I was trying to make something of myself!" said Anborn.


    "What?" said Tanith, incredulous.


    "I was trying to prove I could do this," said Anborn. "I... I realized I hadn''t achieved anything, and my potential was being wasted. But the Khasmir Campaign ended before I could do anything. I thought I could pay back some of the money I lost for Father."


    "So why didn''t you take up something smaller?" asked Tanith, throwing the stick away and punching him across the face. "You''ve been loafing around for years. If you''d started taking up your duties earlier, you''d have been given something small as well. Any humiliation you might have had would have been the price you paid for the delay." Tanith halted and realized that she was about to commit a kinslaying. "Alright...


    "You get to live, but only because it could backfire. If you didn''t have a Goddess coming out of anywhere to bail you out, you''d be dead on that altar.


    "I''m going to give you a quest. You fulfill it; you live. You don''t; you die."


    "What is it..." said Anborn, pulling himself up. "Anything."


    "There''s going to be a battle soon," said Tanith. "You are going to fight with the Furbearers. I want you at the front of the battle. And you are not to retreat at all.


    "If you flee, I will kill you.


    "If you betray them, I will kill you.


    "If you are captured, you will not be delivered by my hand.


    "And if you distinguish yourself... you will regain your honor like water in sand. Even if you win a great victory, you will not get the respect you want. You will have to fight, from one misery to another! You will have to endure the disrespect and humiliation of those around you.


    "There will probably come a time where you curse the very day you were born, that you might yourself and others pain.


    "You are not trying to make a name for yourself. Instead, you are trying to destroy the name that was made for you."


    "I''m sorry," said Anborn.


    "Apologize by future action," said Tanith. "Someone get him a healer; the wounds have stung him enough. Ensure he is not mistreated but given no undue preference.


    "Anborn is to be at the thickest part of the fighting."


    "He''ll die," said Osris matter.


    "Or he may find himself stronger than you think," said Tanith. "William did." And she faded. "I don''t speak for the Shark Queen anymore.


    "Imogen has stolen the role from me. And I must go at once to my Father to learn what has happened.


    "Anborn..." She took a breathe and calmed down before looking at him seriously. "Please don''t disappoint me. Father is going to need you, you and Sunthred. I can''t rule Ran Telus; I''m not cut out for that kind of work. And our power is expanding rapidly.


    "I leave at once."


    Then she looked to Imogen. "And you... if you ever threaten Harlenor again, I''ll kill you and your pantheon! So keep your loveable rogues out of Elranor''s territory!"


    Imogen stood up, shivering in the cold. "I uh... I guess that''s my cue to leave."


    Then she was gone in a flash.


    Dead silence.


    "I gotta say, I think her reaction is perfectly reasonable," said Sokar. "Get the idiot a healer."


    For once, Anborn had a decent reason to cry. But he tried not to this time, so that was good. Tanith took her swords from Kata. Kata halted. "Tanith, I''m going with you."


    "Why?" asked Tanith, buckling them onto her scabbard.


    "I feel I''ll be needed with you," said Kata. "And I''d like to see how your story goes.


    "...Do you think that Anborn represented something? They say the future is foreshadowed in the present."


    "No," said Tanith. "Your people were never that weak.


    "And my sins are along a very different path." Then she halted as a messenger came in.


    "Chieftain Osris," said the messenger. "Lord Kern''s forces are approaching the river."


    Tanith took Kata''s gaze. "I will watch.


    "But I will not be on the field."


    Anborn opened his mouth to speak as he was given a knife. Tanith looked at him, and he looked away. It was time to get this idiot killed, so Father didn''t have to worry about him anymore.


    Or maybe he''d survive and be a hero.


    Tanith didn''t really care. But, she sort of hoped things would turn around for him.


    They''d see.


    Either way, she didn''t need the Shark Queen to tell her to do all this. Nor did she care if she did.

 Chapter 166 - Eighteen: Blood on the River

    Here they were, back at the bridge.


    Anborn stood alone before it, shivering despite several cloaks. His wounds were healed, but the pain of them was still on him. The snowbanks had almost completely melted now, revealing tundra and crag grass. The Furbearers were barely visibly perched by the river in careful concealment.


    Only Anborn could be seen; he and Tanith were some ways behind. She would kill him if he ran from battle again; it was a matter of principle. He''d shamed her house long enough. Still, Tanith had faith Anborn would do the right thing.


    Eventually.


    "So, do we have any kind of plan here?" asked Tanith.


    "Well, Anborn is to stand at the bridge and look like a one-man army," said Sokar. "Or, like he thinks he''s a one-man army. He challenges them, they attack him, and he dies, and they think they have clear passage. They move in off-guard, and we catch them at the mouth of the river and initiate our real plan."


    "Which is?" asked Tanith.


    "Hit them from the hillocks with slings and draw them out gradually," said Sokar. "We''ll also block off the bridge. But Edward is smart and has probably laid aside boats just in case." He halted. "Tanith, if you had a choice...


    "Would your brother live?"


    "Is answering that question going to affect my fate?" asked Tanith.


    "It could," said Sokar.


    "Is this some sort of prophecy thing?" asked Tanith.


    "No," said Sokar. "But most people who channel the Shark Queen tend to die.


    "See, the Shark Queen only directly appears when doom is imminent. Most of the time she uses a proxy if she wants to appear at all. And those proxies almost always die.


    "I kind of feel like it''s you or Anborn."


    "Well then, I can''t answer it honestly, can I," said Tanith.


    "Let''s say there were no consequences," said Sokar.


    "I choose to live," said Tanith in no mood for self-sacrifice. "His fate is his own. If a decision one way will lead to my survival, then I''ll choose that way."


    "But what if you could save his life and save yourself?" asked Sokar.


    "Would I have to put myself at risk to do so?" asked Tanith.


    Sokar paused. "Probably, yes."


    "Then I choose to save myself at his expense," said Tanith, deciding there was no point in mincing words. "I''ve already spared him once, and I don''t think he''s going to last five minutes. I don''t want to die. Things are going well for me; I followed my orders and won great victories.


    "I''ve done good work out here.


    "Why should I be sacrificed for the sake of a people who I don''t care about? This may be the end of the world for you. But to me, this is a minor skirmish. Worthy of Anborn to die in, but not me.


    "And I don''t want to die at all.


    "Right now, I love being a warrior, but I won''t always. And things have been set up so I could put the sword down respectively. I''ve always admired Mother, and somebody is going to have run Ran Telus after Anborn dies.


    "I could marry William, grow old, have children.


    "Now, obviously, in the short term, I''ve got all kinds of great deeds to perform. But this is not the kind of place where Tanith Telus'' story can end. Or else my life will have been a failure.


    "If Anborn survives and fights with honor...


    "Good.


    "If not, I have my own swords to wield. He''s been coddled too much; he has to learn to pay the price for his actions. I want him to win gloriously and gain great victories while I do the same, and everyone lives happily after.


    "I think we both know that isn''t going to happen. Blood calls out for blood; someone always wants revenge."


    "Well, I hope he wins the battle singlehanded at this point," said Sokar ruefully. "The odds are against us. We''ve had some scuffles and fought to hold our ground.


    "But I don''t think we can handle a full-scale assault."


    Tanith sighed. "Look, just fight as hard as you can, use every advantage you have, and don''t cross the river. If you attack, you''re dead. Nobody is going to sit still for a Furbearer offensive. Not without a lot more misbehavior by Kern; he''s too important right now."


    "I''ll tell my Father," said Sokar.


    The distant appearances of Lord Kern''s castle were little threat. But the oncoming march of the troops Tanith had seen was. They were both Harlenorian and Dren; you could tell because the Drens were bigger. They held spears and large shields and marched forward. Some also carried boats to ford the now swift-flowing river.


    No weather impeded them, no storm clouds hung overhead.


    This was the Furbearer''s battle to win or lose. And from the looks of things, it would be a very terrible battle. Tanith had seen the Furbearers before and knew they lacked training. Sokar''s men had given the basics. Even so, they weren''t near a Haldrenian militia''s strength. Haldrenian militia trained regularly, and no introduction would be sufficient. The street brawls and peacekeeping from before paled in comparison to a real war.


    And many among these men might be veterans.


    Of course, so were the Furbearers, and they had the home-field advantage and perhaps surprise. If they were lucky, they could duplicate Duke Vanion''s success. However, Tanith was beginning to think that they''d used up most of their luck earlier. Their escape had been blessed by heaven.


    They could not count on it again.


    If they broke here, they were done for. If they fought, they were soldiers. Tanith could arrange some sort of amnesty; nobody was going to allow this.


    Soon enough, the boats were set onto the river by the Harlenorians. At the same time, the Drens were scaling across the bridge.


    "You may go no further," said Anborn, trembling with his spear forward. "I won''t let you cross this bridge. Turn back, or I''ll fight you."


    "Kill him," said the Dren''s, as many laughed.


    And four of them broke ranks to attack Anborn, who fell to one knee and stabbed at the leg of the foremost. Used to fighting in formation, the man was not prepared and screamed as his leg was pierced. Anborn drew it aside and shrieked in terror as he rolled away from a stab. Driving his spear home, he got his enemy through the heart, but his spear was shattered by a shield. Ducking under a stroke, he was nicked and snatched a knife to throw it. The knife went wide, but his enemy ducked while the other moved in for the kill.


    Throwing himself down, Agravain snatched a knife and was hit by his charging enemy''s feet. Screaming in pain, he watched as his enemy fell, and pulling himself up, Anborn stabbed him in the back. Turning, he hurled his knife again and, by luck, got his last opponent in the throat. By now, the boats were landing, and the Harlenorians were getting off the shore.


    At once, the Furbearers began to pelt stones, and several fell senseless. But others locked shields and moved forward, covering the coming of their fellows. A few got through as men got off the boats or were traversing, but they moved in at the Furbearers.


    By now, Anborn had stabbed the wounded soldier to death as he begged for mercy and wept openly. A little less crying would be nice, but his technique had potential. Then he looked to Tanith as if to be called back. The Drens stared in a fury.


    Was Tanith supposed to be impressed? He should have done this years ago. "Do it again."


    "Kill him!" said the Drens.


    And they rushed forward en masse. Anborn snatched up a spear, but as he did, the Furbearers waiting in ambush came from all sides. Wielding clubs and axes, the battle was joined in full, and there were no ranks. Just Dren and Furbearer killing one another, while Anborn stabbed at men''s feet. Or caught them in the back while crying to himself.


    Pathetic.


    He regained his honor like snowflakes off death''s shoulders. Unimportant and soon to be killed, and so much the better. At least he would die better than he lived.


    It was time for Tanith to remind the Furbearers whose hand they eat from.


    Moving down the shore, she closed on the ranks of House Kern as they began to route them. Drawing her swords, she felt the will of the Shark Queen on her, promising a glorious victory.


    "Begone spirit, leave me to my own battles," said Tanith, bounding over a hillock. "I serve Elranor only, and these men shall dine with him tonight!"


    Then Tanith laughed and fell upon the men of House Kern. These were militia, well experienced, but nothing to a knight. Her blade caught one in the throat. Another she slashed across the tendon so that he could be finished. A third stroke pierced a heart, and a fourth cut off a head.


    On and on it went as she filled the river with bodies. Laughing with joy, she routed them, driving them back to their ships. Then, tossing her swords into the air, she caught them as she ran. And she fell on the ground, slashing these worthless heathens with a delight and power she had never felt.


    Down fell one barbarian, then another, then another.


    Anborn was clashing blades with a man, but Tanith did nothing to help him. She helped everyone except him, killing and killing. And when she realized the flow of warriors to him was diminishing. She pushed across the bridge and slew all she could find. So that soon, the men of House Kern fled in terror.


    "Go back, traitors!" said Tanith. "Go simper and slave to your wives! Let Lord Kern supplant you as is your duel! Some among us have a sense of culture!"


    And laughed, she wiped her blades on the grass and walked back to the battlefield. Anborn was lying on the ground. Tanith considered helping him. However, she remembers Mother giving him comforting words. That was when Tanith scraped her knee. Words of how he would find his place.


    "Find something useful to do," said Tanith.


    "I know how to bandage wounds," said Anborn.


    "Then do it," said Tanith. "If any will trust you to do it."


    Anborn stood up and went to look for bandages.


    All in all, a lovely day.


    Looking at the trail of corpses Tanith left behind her, she knew that Kern would lament this day. His first strike had been turned back, and her warning had been made good on. Anborn was finally making himself useful. And she had complete deniability.


    Looking at the Furbearers, she saw Sokar had a bandaged arm. Kata had been kept out of the fight and was now healing.


    "Good skirmish," said Tanith. "Keep practicing."


    The look on their face was priceless.


    For today, this had been the end of the world. But for Tanith, this was reliving the old days from a different perspective. It was very entertaining; once you got past the hang-ups killing Harlenorians was fun too. And Kern had deserved it, while the slaughter of those Drens should keep the bloodline pure.


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    There were even some prisoners. Tanith must have missed a few.


    Anborn was working to help with the healing of a few Haldrenians; no one would let him near the Furbearers. His eyes were dead, his face was bloody again, and he looked like he was going to throw up.


    Tanith did not care.


    And the fact that she did not care made her smile. The knowledge that her worthless brother could die and she would not care made her happy. He was probably the evilest person she had ever met.


    "Why do you exist!" said Tanith. "Stop being evil!"


    Laughter from many Furbearers, and Tanith became very angry. She thought about killing him again to tie up loose ends.


    "Stop it!" said Kata. "Tanith''s love for Anborn and the Shark Queen''s love for us are identical! Perform your duties and honor the gods!


    "And someone patch up his face!"


    Which meant that Tanith was playing the role of the Shark Queen again. She saw as Kata tended to Agravain using the power of healing. When had she gotten that? It didn''t matter; Tanith picked up a sword from a body. Moving forward, she approached Anborn.


    He looked up at her with empty eyes. "Anborn, stand guard here and ensure no one comes by. Hold your ground; they must not cross the river again." And she offered him a sword."Take this sword from my hand.


    "It is a blade from an enemy you slew. Wield it with pride as a warrior." The enemy was his own cowardice.


    "Will it ever end?" asked Anborn.


    "You used up your family''s happiness and tolerance before now," said Tanith. She feels less herself by the moment. "So you have to earn more. What you have done here is the first step of paying off your debt.


    "If you want to be admired, you must perform great acts of bravery and kindness. If you want to be loved, you must treat your companions and family well in turn. To be known for wisdom, you must have knowledge.


    "To die well, you must live well."


    And she turned away as Anborn took the sword and smiled.


    Things continued in much that way. Anborn was allowed to heal others, and Tanith saw Kata and Sokar speaking together. Yet things changed when a party of men approached under a white flag of parley. Edward Kern was at the head, and he wore mail and a long sword.


    There was a stir among the Furbearers, but Osris raised a hand. "I will speak to him. Who will accompany me?"


    "I''ll go," said Kata.


    "No," said Osris. "Sokar, you and Kata must remain behind in case of treachery. Tanith, you shall accompany me. Thus far, you have been my herald, now I ask that you do so again."


    Tanith nodded and walked ahead to the bridge. As she did, Anborn stepped between her. "You told me not to let anyone pass," said Anborn.


    "Very nice," said Tanith. "But unless you want to fight everyone here and start a war, let me and King Osris through."


    Anborn did. King? Yes, he might as well be a King by this point. Reality had been violated.


    Tanith moved forward over the bridge. Coming to it, she saw Edward, whose pretty face darkened at her sight. He wore a blue cloak and very shiny armor and seemed to think he was setting an example. His face had a kind of tortured pseudo-compassion that Tanith had seen on Eitrigg. The sort of dull, cow-eyed stare of someone who wants to be noble or thinks they are noble but doesn''t know what a noble is.


    No doubt barmaids would find it very easy to giggle at. Tanith would love to cleave his skull. And judging from how he looked at her in equal hatred, though he hid it, the feeling was mutual. Tanith relished the memory of shutting him down when he tried to be her knight. "Tanith Telus, there will come a day when you aren''t protected by your title."


    Tanith laughed. "And here I thought I was the hero. Aren''t you an abolitionist, Edward?"


    "You deliberately killed as many of the Calishans as possible," said Edward.


    "It''s possible," said Tanith. "I kill a lot of people.


    "You threatened my House''s power, and through it, you threatened House Gabriel. Kata and Sokar had a common cause, so I decided to send a message. How is your boat collection?" He''d always liked to build them when real men were going to kill people. Building wells and granaries and never doing anything interesting or useful.


    William at least knew how to make commentary. But this cow-eyed fool had a vacant stare and a sort of puppy-dog expression, like Anborn but even less interesting.


    "I am here to call an immediate halt to these hostilities," said Edward. "Will you parley with me?"


    "I''m just Osris'' herald," said Tanith. "And I assure you, none of these people are happy about Lord Kern''s benevolent rule. Call your guard off and meet him at the bridge alone.


    "I''m only here to ensure no treachery is planned."


    "How many of your own people did you kill today, Tanith?" asked Edward.


    "None," said Tanith. "How many did you?"


    Edward narrowed his eyes. "I''ve never taken a slave nor forced myself on any woman of any race."


    "You''re a liar," said Tanith.


    "My Father acted without my men in this action," said Edward. "I am here to try and salvage matters. I objected repeatedly and sought to-"


    "You are a liar!" shouted Tanith, pointing at him. "So is your Father. Two brazen oathbreakers who employ thieves and murderers rather than honorable battle. Lord Kern was a murderer from the beginning of this, and you his accomplish.


    "I saw you standing in his company. Do you think your title will protect you from my scorn? I have endured the corruption of Antion; I shall not endure the same in Haldren."


    "A Lord must maintain public unity," said Edward. "I might have had different views from my Father, but appearances had to be maintained."


    "Reality should have been maintained," said Tanith. "If you supported your Father, you should have supported him utterly. If you did not, you should have opposed him openly and gone to war against him. Harlenorians do not take half-measures.


    "They are loyal to their friend''s masters and ruthless to their enemies. You are neither, weak. A feeble mediocrity who undercuts his parents, even as he professes to serve them."


    "And what are you then?" asked Edward. "All the world is horrified at your deeds."


    "The world may believe what it wills," said Tanith. "I care not for the opinions of those who do me. Not once have I contradicted the commands of my Father or my commander. When a task is set before me, it is done, and all that oppose the fulfillment of that task are destroyed.


    "I honor my Father and Mother; I defend my nation and my people. I slay the enemies of my god so that they will not threaten my land. Even if those enemies lie within.


    "I have shed blood for my nation! I have gazed with haughty eyes at those I hate! My feet are swift to battle and slow to withdraw! I stir up conflict wherever I go, that my enemies might be broken and my friends! But know that I have never born false witness nor lied!


    "Had I been given the same choices again, I would have made them the same way! For to do otherwise would be to reject the nature of myself and all who knew me!


    "I am Haldrenian! And those who threaten the people under my protection will die!


    "Discard your sword and call your men off. They will not help either of you should hostilities begin."


    "My men, I shall call off," said Edward. "Yet I shall never disarm for you, Tanith."


    Tanith looked to Osris, who nodded. "Very well.


    "King Osris has chosen to humor you. Follow me."


    Osris came forward. "I am King Osris of the Furbearers.


    "It''s been a few years Edward. The word of House Kern seems to have lost much value of late."


    "The war on your people was waged so that one noble could have power over another," said Edward. He was looking to men lined up for execution. "These men you have slain were refugees brought in from the wars that men who would rather not build started. They received a poor welcome in their new home and sought to redeem it by seizing the bridge.


    "I ask that you allow them to leave in peace."


    "How much will you pay for ransom?" asked Osris.


    "Lord Kern told them when their leaders their intentions. He told them he could not deliver them from ransom," said Edward. "However, I am willing to discuss terms.


    "My finances are my own." He paused. "I would know how Tanith Telus fits into this matter. Is she here by the authority of her people? She saved my son and daughter from slavery and aided my people against the Babarassians.


    "We are in her debt and House Gabriel."


    "And what of Anborn," said Edward. "How does he stand among you?"


    "Let him speak for himself," said Osris.


    This was ridiculous.


    Was this a parley or some sort of sermon? You''d need a priest, a prophet or a messiah for that. And Edward was none of those things. Anborn remained silent and looked away. Tanith put a hand on his shoulder, and Edward''s gaze darkened.


    "She''s treated you very poorly, hasn''t she?" asked Edward.


    Anborn turned and walked off in disgust. This seemed to surprise Edward. "King Osris, your flaw was thinking too well of ambitious men. Will you succumb to the opposite fault?


    "Will you embark on the path of blood and seek war for its own sake?"


    "No," said Osris. "I would rather have been left to mind my own house and my people. To be but a man who is occasionally called upon to mediate on unpleasant matters.


    "My desire was to raise my children with my wife. And when my wife was claimed, I resolved to do as I could without her.


    "But, that future is now gone.


    "I must be a King for my people and children. To do otherwise is to court disaster. The old ways are fading. Alliances can no longer sustain themselves by affection alone."


    "Would you then cast off all that your people are?" asked Edward.


    "Would you?" asked Osris.


    And, of course, the answer was yes.


    That was what this battle was about. It had nothing to do with Dark Lords. Tanith and William, and many others were fighting for the soul of their nation. Of all nations. On the one side was a society of warrior poets, brave and courageous in battle. The others were fat merchants and self-righteous nobility who never lifted a finger. The one was armed with the power of the gods and bold deeds. The other with shallow, pseudo-pacifist garbage. A thin facade to distract from their use of money to undercut the common and destroy the church.


    Edward Kern was the hero of that side. A never before seen figure who arrived to prostrate himself. To whine when the battle was already over.


    "Take the prisoners," said Osris. "I have no desire to see any more death.


    "I have lost too many friends."


    And the Furbearers were his victims.


    Yes, of course, if they won, they''d say the Furbearers were the heroes. If these merchants enslaved everyone, their next step would be keeping them in line. King Osris, the last heroic native to resist the evil Harlenorians, would be a perfect tragic hero. A perpetual reminder to the lower classes that they were tainted by sin. And must accept the judgment of fat merchants who exploited them.


    "I thank you," said Edward. "What is Harlenor worth, Reunited?"


    The question was asked to Tanith.


    But Tanith was not unprofessional. She had said her piece as the Shark Queen, and though she dearly desired to cut him down there, she would not. Staying where she was, she watched King Osris. "Very little to you, it would seem."


    Edward turned. It was as if some heroic person taking instruction with his cloak flowing behind him.


    And he moved off on his own.


    His men looked at him as though he were some kind of saint. For openly disparaging Harlenor and everything everyone had fought and died for. Was it for that so many great men had labored and died? Was it for this that William had entered Seathorius, been cast into prison, and thrown away?


    A stalemate had been reached between them.


    The two forces of Harlenor, corruption and heroism, were at war. And yet Kern, in his parting shot, had disgraced everything Tanith stood for. Surely she should let it go? But what if she did let it go?


    Suffered a humiliation for Kern''s sake? Suffered Harlenor''s humiliation for Kern''s vanity.


    No.


    It was too much.


    To allow that would set forth a terrible precedent. That Harlenor could be scorned by a defeated enemy. The truce could not be allowed. Not yet. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    No, no, she could not let this happen.


    She could not endanger the Furbearers. Tanith looked to Osrif and yet saw similar anger. Why?


    Because he had been treated as a child. No great formality had been given him, nor even the title acknowledged. Not even treated as an equal but as an innocent child who come into thing beyond its comprehension. A stupid servant whose only role was to be brutalized. Then dismissed with half-feigned apologies.


    "This cannot stand!" screamed Tanith before drawing both swords. "For Harlenor!"


    And she raced over the bridge, and Anborn and the Furbearers were fast behind her. They prayed then, for a day of victory where House Kern would be utterly destroyed.


    The Shark Queen granted the former at least.


    Edward Kern saw them coming and rushed at once to the stronghold. Men were raised at once, but many had been drinking, thinking the fighting over. Their weapons were not near at hand, and the Furbearers fell on them. They hacked them up with axes and smashed the kegs of Naker beer. Some grasped for weapons, and Kern struck dead two Furbearers with his sword. Another three fell to him in a moment as they came at him. And Tanith perceived that he was the center of resistance.


    "Harlenor for the world!!" roared Tanith.


    Descending, she killed one of his men, and he cried out his name, though Tanith did not hear. Their blades clashed, and they were face to face, now looking on in the purest hatred. Soon Tanith was on him, her blades in a blur, dueling one another as near equals. Tanith was better and nicked him, but he was almost as good as Will.


    Enraged, Tanith attacked all the faster, yet his defense did not give.


    Anborn stabbed one through the heart and nearly lost his head, but he knocked the man flat. Sokar cut the throat of another while Kata and the slinging slew many. There was King Osrif, hewing about him with an axe and cleaving many men. But more were coming, and soon House Kern was coming at them with arrows. Several men were slain by them, while others were pierced by spears.


    "Fall back!" cried Osrif, hewing two men down. "Regroup at the river!"


    Tanith fought against Kern, seeking to take his life. Yet no matter how many times her blade cut him, it was never lethal. At last, she kicked him down to the dirt and disarmed him. "We will face one another again!"


    And turning, she fled last of all, back over the river.


    They had left behind them great carnage, having killed many soldiers. But no one had slain any who were not warriors. Someone had set fire to the barracks, and it was blazing with all the supplies inside. Returning to the bridge, they manned the defenses.


    "If Lord Kern wishes to make any further entreaties," said Osrif. "He may treat with me as an equal. We are no servants.


    "And we made him no promises of peace."


    An agreement, but it was grim. And Tanith had the feeling the place might be attacked again. However, if nothing else, the corruption''s power had been checked.


    "Why did we have to do that?" asked Anborn. "We''d gotten peace."


    "It wouldn''t have mattered, Anborn," said Tanith, feeling as though she was explaining to a child. "They don''t respect them. Just like other people don''t respect you.


    "No matter how nice or reasonable you are, if people don''t fear your wrath, they''ll sell you for a slave." She sighed and quickly looked at Osrif. "Can I burrow some paper and ink?"


    "Yes," said Osrif.


    Tanith wrote it out quickly and set it to dry in the sun.


    It said;


    Father,


    I am engaged in a battle alongside our Furbearer allies. I had hoped to meet with you before, but House Kern has tried to invade them twice. The war is beginning to escalate. I am sending Anborn to you. He has killed many enemies in battle, and I think he should be given a chance to redeem himself.


    I cannot go to you at the moment, but I hope this finds you in good health.


    Your loving daughter,


    Tanith.


    Then, when it was done, she gave it to Anborn.


    "Take this to Father," said Tanith. "Apologize to him and ask to be given the opportunity to serve. Don''t invoke family; it will only bring up old wounds."


    Anborn nodded. "Right, yes.


    "I... Tanith, I''m sorry about all this."


    "It''s not always enough," said Tanith.


    Anborn nodded and left.


    And Tanith wondered if she would ever see him again.


    But, for now, they''d have many great skirmishes before the end. The sun was shining, the snow was melting, and the river flowing as men fished out the corpses. It seemed they were in for a truly wonderful time.


    Today had been a good day.

 Chapter 167 - Nineteen: Conspiracy

    The forest was unpleasant. Flies were everywhere, and the air had a bloated heat to it. One could hardly tell the difference between one''s sweat and the humid air. You were always tripping over roots and stones as you walked. Sometimes it took a light spell to keep going in the darker places of the wood.


    And to make matters worse, Jehair slowed their progress. She kept gathering herbs now and then. William supposed they had moved very quickly before now.


    It was like Seathorius, but there was no real magic to the place, save for the subtle, everyday kind. The gnoll''s efforts created a better encampment, and the fire scared some away. But most of his time was spent in a barren, stone hut, reading through the documentation.


    He''d spent time visiting every gnoll village he could, but he found no other documents. Most of the villages were badly in need of reorganization. Many walls had to erected and cesspits dug and streets cleaned. It was miserable and stank to high heaven, and his efforts were not appreciated.


    Even so, what he found in the documents was well worth the effort.


    The most important thing he learned was that Cirithil had been active in the slave trade through Lamech. From the sounds of things, Cirithil ran many of the markets. Most of the warehouses were owned by Lilas, who asked no questions. However, he had chiefly sold to Sorn. Those here would have been transported by sea from the High Priest''s private pier.


    From there, they would be shipped to the Sornian sugar plantations. There they would be worked to death. It seemed that many slaves had been taken from Blackfear. There the villages were isolated. Lamech had been the chief operative here; Tavish had simply recorded it. His letters seemed to indicate distaste.


    What did it matter at this point?


    These were the men who ran Antion. A collection of thieving monsters who had bought out everyone and everything. All so they could drink themselves into a stupor. To think that William had thought better of Lilas after leaving Rius. His true face had been on display from the beginning.


    Felix entered the hut, bending over at the entry.


    "Felix, you''ve returned," said William. "What news?"


    "Asus has led his men out as you requested," said Felix. "They and Massacre have linked up with Vorn Atravain, and they are scouting out the wildlands.


    "Asus is putting together maps and has promised to share them. Apparently, there have been a few skirmishes with bandits. However, most have simply cleared out, and Vorn is sending them back.


    "The repair work on ancient structures is going well. Several old watchtowers are being cleared and repaired. And by now, the place is all but in possession of House Gabriel. Unofficially, of course."


    "And Cirithil?" asked William, feeling hatred for the man.


    Apparently, some of the slaves had been sold off-world, many in large numbers. Mostly women to some unknown buyer. Lilan was described in favorable terms by Cirithil as a cunning mentor figure. Though none of this is directly connected.


    Ah, yes, William remembered him now, a conceited man who abused his workers. That did seem like the sort of thing Cirithil would regard as powerful. It brought to mind a kind of shadowy and cunning individual. But William doubted such a figure would waste their time.


    So chances are Cirithil had just been told whatever he wanted to hear. Even so, it turned out that someone called Nagos introduced Cirithil to Maius and later Chun Xi. Cirithil seems to have absolute contempt for Nagos and regards him as stupid and naive. Judging from the writings, Nagos kept only a very occasional meeting.


    Was it the same Nagos as Chaminus?


    Here was something, a letter addressed to Lamech;


    Lamech,


    That fool, Nagos, actually suggested I get out of the slave trade. And his only argument for it was that it was against my god''s will. He honestly thought I''d give up an immense source of profit for the sake of religion. As if the worship of some sky daddy was of any relevance. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Next, he''ll be arguing that it isn''t the right thing to do.


    I''ve humored him to use later. He has enough wit to play his part. His connection to Chaminus might be useful before our friends in Sorn put the dog down.


    -Cirithil.


    Seeing as Imogen believed Nagos was very dangerous, William doubted it.


    Still, Nagos did not seem to be profiting from any business ventures. Looking around, William found one letter from Nagos. What was it doing here?


    My friend, Cirithil,


    I understand that you don''t really believe in the high ideals of your position. And I get why you came to believe it. The world isn''t a perfect place.


    But this is going to backfire. You can''t do this forever, and sooner or later, something will go wrong. And if the corruption gets too bad, this Lamech guy will slaughter you. I know his kind; he is a killer through and through.


    He is not your friend, and you''ve got to put some distance between him before it it is too late.


    -Nagos.


    Was this an attempt to redeem an evildoer?


    Nagos had known him longer.


    But it was obvious they''d talked extensively. So why would Nagos continue to work with him? Were they old friends? And why had Tavish put this here? Was it planted as insurance against Cirithil? Obviously, he hadn''t wanted to implicate Lamech.


    Or Lamech might have done it as a means of breaking his tool.


    What did he even want?


    No letters directly from him, so William wondered if Nagos even existed. He would have to ask Maius later, without confrontation, of course. One of the letters said something interesting, however;


    Cirithil,


    Remember that Nagos is the last descendant of the old god of ancient Namina, Arcturus. This means he has certain powers of persuasion. You would do well to consider if he is really as stupid as you make him out to be.


    He is a King and a very effective one. His nation has gone unraided despite being surrounded by hostile pirates. He has constructed an extensive fleet. In addition, he has good relations with the surrounding lands.


    He is also a subordinate to the Dinisiam Emperor, Octavus.


    Underestimate Nagos at your peril. You are seeing in him what you want to see, and he allows you to do so.


    Sincerely,


    Lamech.


    Last descendant of Arcturus?


    That didn''t fit, as ancient Namina sank into the sea long ago during the God War. Accounts as to how it happened vary a great deal. But the general consensus was that they lost their colonies in Kalthak to King Abdul Sahshir. Then Baltoth and Zeya fought it out with the God of Friendship, whose name had been forgotten. And everything fell to bits.


    Though some accounts said Zeya never set foot there. A few even suggested that Karus did it, and it was all planned by Valranor. In this version of the accounts, Baltoth was manipulated into destroying it. Or, alternatively, playing an important role.


    However, Baltoth was supreme, and Valranor was quite dead. So William didn''t believe it. It might be attributed to mere propaganda from Calisha, but Baltoth would be happy to take credit for it. And who would be stupid enough to lie about Baltoth being weak while his empire was over the next river?


    Someone very safe, in a different land.


    Perhaps these foreigners had been hoping to engineer strife or some of them at any rate. Not all foreigners were alike. It was at this stage irrelevant. Cirithil had discounted Nagos as a fool, King to a doomed realm. One to be used before he was disposed of as soon as possible.


    Largely he accepted payment for his stock in Maius and Chun Xi''s brothels. Cirithil labeled ''tribute'' using signs for sarcasm.


    How did Nagos connect to Maius, Isriath, and Chun Xi?


    Then there was a letter from Lilas;


    Cirithil,


    My congratulations on your attendance to business, High Priest. However, you must realize that your actions are alarming Lord Rius. It may be best to take a more subtle approach for whatever further moves you make.


    Lady Atravain is writing letters to Haldren, and King Gavin is not powerless. Prince Aras has already moved to Ascorn and is communicating with his elf mistress. Our operations in Dinis are bearing fruit.


    -Your friend,


    Lilas.


    Lilas,


    Put the child at ease.


    We won''t need him for much longer anyway. Once the power vacuum becomes clear, it will be a simple matter to shift you into it.


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    As for Haldren, I''ve rerouted our usual slave shipments off-world. So many new markets, you know. Atravain needs to buy slaves, and I''ve made a few suggestions as to where. Rounding up a few villages of savage Furbearers will satiate the need. From there, it will throw Haldren into chaos.


    We can use that for our masters goals.


    -Cirithil.


    Unbelievable.


    Cirithil truly did think he was above the law to write so blatantly. No one else in correspondence was nearly this blatant.


    One or two offhand mentions of ''straightening out differences'' with uncooperative merchants. From the sounds of things, Lamech was playing the role of middle-man for everyone, like Lilas. Only Lamech loved dealing in blood, and his hand relished it. But nobody noticed because he was seven feet tall and wearing black skull armor. That and the glowing yellow eyes and wore a sword the size he was. They saw him, said, ''He''s evil,'' and paid no more mind.


    Conversely, Lilan was going out of his way to look humble and unnoticed, and helpful. So everyone knew exactly who he was and the threat he posed. They just didn''t care because his power was nothing but an illusion. One which was enchanting to uneducated, hedonistic dullards like Cirithil. But contemptible and obvious to anyone else.


    And speaking as a serpent, William could not help but feel offended at the comparison.


    The last letter said;


    I hope you enjoyed reading.


    Chosen One of Elranor. I wrote this out for when you came.


    -Lamech.


    Why?


    Lamech must have known that Elranor would take some action. So he prepared a letter for when it was found. But why? Did he just want an audience? Or was he seeking to gloat.


    No one with a political interest in Antion would ever use this information. And no one from the church would have been free of political machinations. Which meant anyone reading all this would almost certainly be someone like William.


    Lamech had been waiting for him. Or someone like him, at least.


    He was putting on a show, playing the role of villain in a grand play he had been set up. A mental image came to William of finding these letters after Antion was in utter ruins. That with the Furbearers destroyed. Yet Lamech probably did not care either way.


    It seemed a very childish way to run your empire.


    "William?" asked Felix.


    William looked back. "There''s a lot of information here I don''t want to be discussed. Read it at your leisure later. We''ll send appropriate letters when we get back."


    "Is it important?" asked Felix.


    "No," said William. "Just verification of what we know already and the names of some compatriots. Look for yourself."


    Felix looked and sighed. "Lilas is no threat."


    "What makes you say that," said William.


    "Because he doesn''t stand and fight," said Felix. "Everything is done indirectly. He has never been in combat, and his subordinates hate him. Cirithil is the primary threat here; he can actually motivate people. Lamech will either fall with him or come in later.


    "It doesn''t matter who is handing out the money in the end. If they can''t motivate people, they will never be a threat. Lilas uses other people''s motivation to rise to power. But he can''t be a reliable servant to everyone. And anyone who pays attention to him will see how he behaves and judge him.


    "Even wicked masters want good subordinates.


    "Eventually, he will have to rely on the goodwill of those he has met before. Once that happens, there will be none. All plans break down eventually. Whether you are able to get up again is a result of the legacy you leave behind.


    "Being a benevolent ruler is the first step to being a powerful one.


    "I cannot respect someone who doesn''t understand that the two are one and the same. Even Cirithil knows how to get the support of his drinking buddies."


    "What would you consider a benevolent rule?" asked William.


    "That is the core question which defines reality," said Felix. "And the principal source of Elranor and Baltoth''s rivalry. Baltoth believes that a ruler must be responsible for everything. Elranor believes that everyone should be responsible for their own lot.


    "If this situation had happened in Calisha, we would not be having this conversation. Everyone involved would have been crucified weeks ago."


    "Many of them might reform," said William.


    "What of it?" asked Felix. "Crime cannot be tolerated.


    "Every crime must be punished as is possible without compromising the state. No one should be safe. Higher officials should suffer worse torments."


    "Doesn''t that apply to Baltoth, too?" asked William.


    Felix remained silent for a moment. "Punishing Baltoth would destroy the state. Do what you will; there will always be some evildoers who escape judgment. For Baltoth to be destroyed, he would have to will his own downfall."


    "Do you think he''ll do that?" asked William.


    "Whether he will or not will define him," said Felix. "But he would need an opportunity first.


    "Order, like chivalry, is an act of art, not nature. One must master their pride before they can create order. Just as one must master their wrath to create a chivalric knight."


    "You''re a wise man," said William.


    "Not nearly wise enough," said Felix wryly. "Or else why would the world be the way it is?"


    "Do you think we should talk to Chun Xi or Maius?" asked William.


    "No," said Felix. "I doubt they were anything but vehicles for foreign investment, much like Tef alongside them. They would not have cooperated if they knew what Cirithil was doing.


    "Don''t have anything to do with them. That is my advice."


    "Is there any good news?" asked William.


    "Apparently, Cirithil''s behavior has lost him friends in the nobility," said Felix. "There is a lot of concern in Antion. Janice has put out a call for investigations on her Mother''s behalf, and it is getting real support.


    "Korlac has already dispatched men to aid in them. However, it will take more to make any progress. And he will not be taking control of the city, as was rumored."


    "The documents?" asked William.


    "Useless at the moment," said Felix. "I have been thinking about this.


    "The problem is that you and Cirithil hate one another, and this will be viewed as a personal vendetta. Even if he has nothing on you, and you''ve proved him guilty of worshipping Diabolus, they won''t let it pass. Antion does not like blood feuds, and King Andoa shuts them down whenever possible.


    "If the fighting gets into the streets, the fighters go out.


    "Your conflict has already lost Cirithil a lot of money, so they probably view you as avenged. Especially since he''s lost control of his own temples, pressing further through your family in Antion would be viewed as a blanket power play."


    "I haven''t met them," said William. "But none of their letters are here.


    "What do you suggest?"


    "You have three choices," said Felix. "First, send it to Vorn and wait. You can use it to destroy Cirithil and his allies at a later date. However, this will lack speed, and many will remember what you did before.


    "It will be viewed as an extension of your attack. In addition, Vorn may have a different idea of how it should be used. He might take it to your Uncle, or he might view it as an opportunity to force concessions. He is not a Paladin, and there are legitimate arguments for it.


    "Thus, the second option, you can use it to blackmail-"


    "Absolutely not," said William. "I am no criminal nor assassin."


    "Thank you," said Felix. "If you''d let me finish that sentence, my respect for you would end. Paladins must be held to a higher standard."


    William shuddered. "I might use it if all of Antion would collapse if I did not. But Cirithil isn''t necessary for anything.


    "So, what is the third option?"


    "Give it to King Faras," said Felix.


    "Why him?" asked William. "What can he do?"


    "Nothing," said Felix. "But he has a considerable power base here. And with the chaos in this place, he might gain influence in Antion. Certainly, he will want a representative eventually.


    "So, if King Faras were to bring the matter up when he arrives, all you would have to do is support him. All of this would be done using his resources, and House Gabriel would not be making a power play at all.


    "Just... opening the door that justice might be done. Certainly, this particular stunt has injured King Faras much more than us. Our hatred for him is largely on principle, and if you got the support of Queen Dawn and other nobles..."


    "We can give the elves justice for what was done," said William. "And at the same time, we can get rid of Cirithil and the worst of the nation. That will also make it easier to end the constant bloodbaths.


    "Our revenge is their revenge."


    "But first, we have to find King Faras and get him to listen to us," said Felix. "Which is the hard part. You were right to trust in Jehair; if we''d gone to some other guide as I suggested, we''d stand no chance.


    "She''s led us to exactly where we need to be."


    "Don''t tempt fate any further," said William. "Rioletta might look to get involved." The Spider Queen was known for being vindictive.


    "As if all this wasn''t confusing enough," said Felix. "We''d probably already been noticed. So when we head in there, we''ll either be dead, imprisoned, or have our meeting."


    "Being thrown in prison might be a relief," muttered William, looking at the cold stone. "When Arraxia threw me in a cell it was just as uncomfortable. The only difference now is I''m stuck here by choice."


    Soon enough, Jehair came back, and William turned to see her, scythe in hand. Coming forward, she halted as she saw them, shifting her hips as she did so. Her hair looked blonder than before. "Well, I''ve returned.


    "How goes your examination of records?"


    "Unpleasant," said William in disgust. He handed it to her, and she read it. "I assume you knew of all this."


    "There is a difference between knowing and knowing," said Jehair. "My word was not trusted for years. By the time it was, I had long since ceased to care about these people. I don''t ask questions about my clients; I only help them wherever they are going.


    "In this case, Antion has been going to a horrific, nasty end for years. Although I admit, you''ve probably bought it another decade. But I couldn''t have proved any of this, and if I could, I''d have been murdered. I never had the inclination until now."


    "Until it is too late?" asked Felix.


    "Frankly, yes," said Jehair. "Other people lived here before the Harlenorians or even the elves. Others will after we are long dead. When a civilization grows decadent, it is either destroyed or dies by its own hand.


    "The weak are purged; things get bad for some and good for others. Many good people would be much better off with Antion sinking into the sea, just as many good people would have their lives destroyed.


    "My charges are the woods and trees, the birds and the beasts.


    "Someone has to take care of the flowers. Although I admit, your actions have made me come as close to believing in humanity as I ever have. When this life is over, and my mind is reformed I hope to have a gentler disposition."


    That was right; elves reincarnated mentally instead of physically. Every forty to a hundred years, they became a different version of themselves. It was how romances between humans and elves worked.


    It was a summary that would have to suffice.


    "Do you think it''ll be of use?" asked Jehair, curious.


    "To me?" asked William. "No.


    "House Gabriel can''t throw this kind of information around. It would set a dangerous precedent. But, on the other hand, if King Faras were to get his hands on it.


    "I think he could do some real damage to these people."


    "I do not think Faras has that much credibility," said Jehair.


    "Happily, we are in a crisis," said William reciting what Felix told him. "Father has always told me that a crisis is an ideal time to advance and grow in power. King Faras has a real opportunity here. And I have a real opportunity to strike at Cirithil if he will help me.


    "I need the old elven Kingdoms," William said it and realized what he was saying. It was revoking much of what he had previously believed.


    No, Anoa the Bright lived in a different time. In those days, the elves had become tyrants. But just because they had been tyrants didn''t mean they would be now. And it would be better to give them back some of their pride and dignity than let Cirithil use it.


    Had they been at war, perhaps it would be better. But now everything was falling apart.


    "What?" said Jehair.


    William remembered what he''d read, the positive bits. He thought of the old ruins that you could see here or there abandoned. Great, elegant structures, towering proudly that were once higher. The memory came to him now of stories of flights of dragons flying to war. Of ancient realms of fantasy like nothing, he had imagined.


    It was the world Anoa had ended. Yet though it had been better for humanity then, surely revisiting it would be better than this filth. "The Elven Kingdoms have a long and glorious history.


    "They outfought virtually every other race for many ages; they rode horses and wore rumor. They were centers of knowledge when all other civilizations fell apart. Their power of magic was immense.


    "If memory of that history were reawakened and this place restored to old glory...


    "It could be enough to destroy some of the worst aspects of Harlenor. That would give the elves some long-awaited vengeance and help both of us.


    "What of your plans?"


    "Negotiations have gone very well," said Jehair. "The druids have been willing to recognize the gnoll villages, which is a triumph for the Wood Elves too. I have also learned the source of the plague of rats. It appears that many of the border villages had begun felling trees in the marsh. All against certain agreements. In response, King Faras of the Wood Elves called the rats from all over to trouble them.


    "Faras is not fond of humans.


    "Either way, some of the satyrs are whispering. I fear they may seek blood soon enough, in one way or another. And several villages in Antion have been burned, and their crops are stolen. There''s fighting all along the border, and the satyrs seem to be having the better time of it."


    "Is Luke Atravain doing well?" asked William.


    "He apparently has had several skirmishes and fought well," said Jehair. "Saul has been making connections. I have sent birds to observe them and the orders seem to be on level.


    "No one is going to get full credit, and that is how it should be. Apparently, Ham Hawkthorne has been planning the route with Reginald and Varsus. However, both are far ahead of us by now. Assuming we can arrange finances with Adrian Wrynncurth, it should go well."


    "King Faras could potentially aid or thwart the journey," said Felix. "He is near the King''s Road, which will be impossible to move through."


    "Actually, that is not a problem," said Jehair. "Most of the nobility want the bandit problem solved. So each one has agreed to waive the fee for a certain number of men.


    "They will make their own judgments on who they allow.


    "And they reserve the right to investigate them. But, other than that, they can go on through."


    "That system could be abused," said Felix. "It would be well to have some means of compelling an honest process."


    "Thus why the route must be planned," said Jehair. "I never thought that so elaborate a conspiracy would be necessary to walk to Gel Carn."


    "We''ve been in one since Seathorius," said William. "What kind of security is underway?"


    "The Paladin Order will be protecting those who make the journey," said Jehair. "Once it begins. Dunmoore and Suran have volunteered with Farwa. They have checked the raids by satyrs as well as arrested a number of known corrupt officials.


    "Those men, however, we found hanging in prison cells before they could be interrogated. Investigations are ongoing. It seems that Isriath gave them some good advice, or else they have sources I do not. The armies are mobilizing to meet them. King Andoa had personally defeated several raiding parties.


    "The High Priest has also been organizing some relief efforts, at last. I gather he is saving face."


    "Are they any good?" asked William.


    "The nobility plan to send armed men to oversee them," said Jehair. "Cirithil tried to steal from them. And the ones with principles are already furious. Chun Xi has turned on him.


    "There isn''t a single brothel or tavern that will take his money now. Or the money of his priests. He''s lost a lot of his coin, and I expect his criminal associates are becoming nervous. This is the last opportunity to salvage his credibility, and if he doesn''t do it, he''s a dead man.


    "No matter what his rank, he knows too much.


    "Needless to say, he is doing a good job and making passionate speeches. He''ll get exactly the same reaction from the populace he always did. It seems to enrage him especially."


    "So," said William. "He''s now become celibate, virtuous, and compassionate at swordpoint. And he has to see people treat him exactly the same way.


    "And if ever stops, he''ll die."


    "Yes," said Jehair. "As far as ironic hells go, I find this one quite interesting."


    "Well, I''m not going to give him any points for doing what he should have been doing from the start," said William. "Besides, he was forced into it. And I think we both know he''ll just sell his principles up the river once he''s safe."


    "I agree with William in this," said Felix. "Our plans should remain unchanged.


    "His life ought to be forfeit by now. All of this is just helping to partially mend what he broke."


    "What if he does atone?" asked Jehair.


    "Then we''ll adjust our plans," said William. "I am sure Elranor can provide us with guidance.


    "What about Tavish?"


    "No word beyond what I have already told you," said Jehair.


    "And prayers?" asked Felix.


    "There has been an increase in prayers to Elranor and the gods, yes," said Jehair. "Even to some of those we''ve inconvenienced."


    "Well, that is as good news as we can hope for," said William. "Perhaps I should attend the discussions?"


    "I am... unsure that would be wise," said Jehair. "The Druids of Laevian, it seems, are not overly fond of you."


    "Why not?" asked William.


    "You have been healing diseases, many diseases," said Jehair. "They have long regarded pandemics as a means Laevian uses to strengthen species, which is more or less true. It also checks your people''s population.


    "Some view your actions as perverting nature.


    "There has never been a Paladin as obsessed with healing as you. I do not think your presence would be helpful."


    "All the more reason to at least be present," said William. "I must know their views."


    Jehair nodded. "I see.


    "In that case, you should remain silent and allow me to speak. I do not think the elves of this place would like you. They did not recover the same way Qor''Dana did."


    "Then I defer to your judgment in this matter," said William.


    And they left in a hurry.


    William was looking forward to seeing these Wood Elves. Provided they weren''t shot dead before they saw anything. And he was looking even further forward to hanging Cirithil and killing Lamech.


    This would be fun.

 Chapter 168 - Twenty: Tyrasa

    They left behind the gnoll villages and went south, deeper into the woods. As they did, the brambles became very thick indeed. Thorns around them seemed to have grown to drive people away. Massacre ate well the entire time, and yet they were still slowed, no matter how many thorns she munched. Now and then, at night, they''d hear wild beasts trampling through the forest. They had several near encounters with pigs as well.


    But it was more than that. There was a kind of resentment in the air, this deep within the trees. The trees around them seemed to glare with hatred at their passing, and William kept his hand near a sword. Jehair did not have the same trouble in the forest, the roots did not grasp at her as much, or the dirt clung. In fact, dirt rarely clung to her, so it seemed the spirits accepted her.


    She was known in this place, just as she was known in all places.


    William and the others, as her companions, were barely tolerated.


    Suddenly one thorny branch caught hold of his cloak. Struggling to pull it off, he realized it would tear it apart. It was pulling even now, and more were around. Drawing out his sword, he cleaved the branch. Then another, and Felix did the same as they reached. Vines sought to scale up their feet, but they hacked them back. Wind howled through the woods, sounding like shrieking resentment. The branches swayed around, distorting it to make it sound like voices.


    "Call your creatures off," said William. "We seek no battle, but we will brook no assault."


    Then, sensing something, he whirled around and saw an arrowhead moving upward. Bringing about his sword, he put it to the throat of the one who did so. Another was at him, but Felix caught that one hostage. For a moment, William''s focus was completely on the swordpoint at the throat.


    Then he realized it was a girl.


    She had long, green hair tied up into a ponytail that reached behind her wide hips. The sides of her large breasts were covered only by a clinging, white garment. She was more than an equal to Jehair in that department, though her hips were not as wide. One that was adorned with white stones. Her skin was violet in the moonlight, and looking at her face, he saw that she was very fair indeed.


    So were a lot of people. The vines began to creep up his feet, and he knew he must act. Knocking the bow aside with his shield, he brought his sword down to slash the vines. Then he threw himself forward. Backing away beneath her onslaught, the woman danced away, her arrow loosed. His shield caught the arrow, then the arrow, then another, and her back was against the tree. Slashing aside two branches just in case, she drew two knives and rushed at him.


    Guessing she meant to exploit his slower speed, William ceded ground and turned aside. He guessed someone else would be coming at him, and he was correct. A blue-haired woman was at him with a long sword but was surprised by his swift response. Turning her strike, he disarmed her and turned to see his first enemy.


    She was rapidly attacking with her twin swords, and her strikes were aggressive. There was no such thing as a weak hit with a sword, not unless you were fighting a toddler. But her blows were of a flowing kind, trying to find openings. It seemed almost more like a dance than a fighting style, moving with fluid movements. William struggled to keep up as he withdrew past a beam of moonlight. His own blows were simple and meant to achieve results, to kill or incapacitate. William felt overmatched in speed as her green hair flowed. His strokes could not connect, and he feared cutting her down.


    Still, she was lacking in upper body strength, and he was wearing full armor. So the solution was obvious. William braced himself and allowed her swords to smash against his armor. He felt the impact hard on his helm and chest plate. The blows jarred her swords in her hands, and her eyes went wide. Obviously, she was not used to fighting armored opponents. So William bashed her in the chest with his shield. She swooned and fell backward to hit the ground hard, a little bruised but not seriously injured. Good, she was very beautiful.


    That slammed her away to crash to the ground, and he turned to her friend, who had a bow. Firing one arrow, then another, then another, William raised his shield. Firing arrows rapidly is a useful tactic. However, they had to be fired on a different course, and all three plunged into his shield.


    Calculating that the enemy would emerge in greater numbers, William looked to Felix. Felix nodded, then ran into the trees. The other elves, all of them women, went at him. Jehair was staring dumbstruck, trying to calm the woods.


    "Stop!" said Jehair. "These are friends!"


    Silence as William took that statement in and considered all that had happened.


    "Some friends," said William.


    "Surrender," said the woman, voice as harsh as nature.


    "You mean you wish to surrender to me?" asked William.


    "You are bold for your kind," said the woman. "But I am Tyrasa, Princess of the Wood Elves.


    "You are not welcome here, and you will submit to my Father''s judgment."


    "Don''t be absurd," said William. "I am an emissary from House Gabriel. You have attacked me without defiance sent and been thrashed for your trouble. You have no physical or moral basis for making any demands."


    "You attacked us," said Tyrasa, shifting her long shapely legs. William opted to admire how beautiful she was since one of them would be dead soon. "It is our custom to bind outsiders."


    "And it is our custom to assume those who point arrows at us are enemies," said William. "Let us each leave the other to their custom. And see who lives to tell about it."


    "William, stand down," said Jehair. "This is no time for a confrontation, child."


    "No, I will not," said William flatly. "If I am taken prisoner, I will consider it an act of war. I shall not submit to captivity without a battle."


    "You cannot enter this domain," said Tyrasa. "Save as a prisoner."


    "Then I will go back," said William. "And find other allies who will not treat me as inferior."


    "You cannot go back," said Tyrasa, motioning. "You have entered our domain and will go forward or remain forever."


    Out of the clearing came a number of well-armed women with more bows and very similar physiques. Were they related? There didn''t seem to be very many men among them. All were beautiful, but their bows had no strings. They were looking very awkward about it.


    "Princess Tyrasa," said one with blue hair. "All of our bowstrings have disappeared."


    "What?" said Tyrasa. "How is this possible?" Then she halted. "The thief."


    "Felix is no thief," said William. "He is a distinguished warrior and a loyal companion.


    "Drop your swords."


    "With respect," said Jehair quickly. "Perhaps we could put aside our weapons before we all kill eachother. A bloodbath would only drive a wedge between our peoples when what we need most is friendship."


    "I would say we are well past the point where friendship is possible," said Felix, reappearing. He put a bowstring around Tyrasa''s neck before she could move and pulled it taught. "If you wish her dead, by all means, continue your attack."


    Silence among them as the elven women looked at one another.


    William realized this might not be a good situation. Even if they killed Tyrasa, they would probably be killed by sheer numbers. And it could cause problems for Uncle even if they survived. It would certainly make his journey much harder, and it might alienate Jehair.


    His conscience was clear. But perhaps he should come down to their level.


    "If you throw down your weapons," said William. "I guarantee this will be the end of it. We shall dismiss this as a misunderstanding.


    "But a scion of House Gabriel cannot submit to captivity. And if a battle here continues, many will die who do not need to."


    Silence continued.


    "Don''t do it!" said Tyrasa. "This outsider must not be allowed to triumph over us!"


    "Just do it, Tyrasa," said Jehair. "They are here to help, and you did attack. I will side with you if they make any move against you after you disarm. You have my word.


    "And you can snatch up your weapons easily enough anyway."


    Silence for a moment.


    "Do as he says," said Tyrasa. "Jehair can be trusted."


    And the weapons were set down carefully as the women kneeled crosslegged before them. Tyrasa was released and stepped forward, retrieving her weapons as quickly as possible. William stared a moment incredulously before Felix released the bowstring from Tyrasa''s neck. The elven women stepped forward, trying to look proud and defiant. She only succeeded in looking sensual, and Jehair was a match in that regard all the time.


    "Why exactly did you do this?" asked William, thinking the whole affair ridiculous.


    "It is standard procedure," said Tyrasa. "To deter outsiders from making repeat trips.


    "Nobody has ever done that before. So why would the spirits help you win?"


    "They didn''t," said William, looking to the woods, which seemed even more ill-tempered than before. No doubt annoyed, the outsider had thrashed their response. "What exactly did you expect to happen?"


    Tyrasa went still. "You know nothing outsider.


    "You could not possibly understand our designs." William found this response cute at best. Insulting at worst, he wasn''t sure which to settle on. He descended on appreciative condescension if only to spare his own dignity.


    Jehair paused and looked around. "I would guess that we were meant to be immobilized by the vines. Once that happened, they would come forward and gloat. Then you would be taken to prison and allowed to make your case.


    "A way of showing that you had no power here.


    "Such tactics were utilized in Qor''Dana, after the evacuation when things got very grim. However, they did not see nearly as much traffic as this place could. I expect they would have ordinarily shot you.


    "But they must have observed our discussions and decided to allow a meeting."


    Tyrasa halted, and William knew she really had. The way she was looking away and adjusting her hair showed. That was the stupidest plan he had ever heard in his life. "You mean to say that this ambush was an elaborate means of showing your skill as archers and woodsmen?"


    "...Yes," said Tyrasa.


    "Did you ever consider just holding an archery contest!" shouted Felix in anger. "Do you have any idea how much damage you''ve done with this stupid display? We''ve had to hack up all these trees because you wanted to show how dangerous the woods were.


    "We could have killed every single one of you and walked out. And if you''d killed us, William''s family live just north. And even if your plan worked, there''s no guarantee William wouldn''t be angry enough to come back with an army!"


    "It was to demonstrate the will of our people!" shouted Tyrasa. "You outsiders presume to run freely through our lands! We will show you the fury of the wood!"


    If Tyrasa had been alone against all the evil the world could muster, it might have been impressive. But, in practice, with her standing here against a few people, having been disarmed and outmaneuvered...


    "Well done," said William. The broken tree branches spoke for themselves.


    He wondered if he should suggest she retire and seek alternative employment. No, that would not be polite.


    "Enough," said Tyrasa quickly. "This facade of helplessness is of no further use!


    "Remove your mask, creature. I will not speak to one that hides their face." She''d forgotten that she was supposed to feign ignorance.


    William avoided laughing as he drew off his helm and let his halt fall around his shoulders. Tyrasa stepped back, looking at him in the moonlight. The others did as well, though some looked to Tyrasa, whose eyes were wide. "I am William Gabriel, milady. With me is Felix, a trusted companion, and Massacre, a servant of Typhos."


    That was on reflex.


    He''d forgotten that Massacre had gone out to eat thorns without consulting anyone. Now she came loping out of the trees, and the collections of wood elves stared. They murmured and marveled at her beauty. "Bah."


    "A servant of Typhos is always welcome among us," said Tyrasa. "Yet you bear the mark of Elranor, the cursed enemy of old." Was she really trying to salvage all this?


    William supposed he couldn''t blame her, so he humored her. "That may be so, but I bear you no ill will. Indeed, it is my desire to make recompense for previous errors on behalf of my Lady, Kiyora Yagos."


    "You serve the Dreaming Goddess?" asked Tyrasa, shifting.


    "Yes, for she saved me from captivity, and I have often fought battles in her name," said William. "On her behalf, I would offer what aid I can." He paused. "You are a good swordsman and excellent shots.


    "However, you did not use the environment to your advantage. Your attacks were predictable, and you allowed me to control the flow of battle."


    "I did not do these things for your approval," said Tyrasa, trying to sound detached and haughty. Instead, she just sounded like she was pouting. "And what aid would you offer? Will you resurrect our ancient civilization? Bring back all those who have died?"


    William sincerely doubted that she had been around for any of this. Or, indeed, been around for the really bad years of her people. Perhaps that was why she was so aggressive. She had inherited a realm of reasonable peace and stability. There were no means to prove herself, and the radical nature of her people restrained her.


    William used the opportunity to move forward as she stood her ground. "Such a deed is beyond my power, milady.


    "Yet if any within this place are injured, I may be able to help them."


    "Our forms are not so feeble as those of you mortals," said Tyrasa proudly. "For we are blessed with immunity to all but the most elaborate of ails. And whatever injuries we have shall be mended by healers of our own. We have not trusted the hands of Elranor''s chosen since the dark days."


    "I see," said William, feeling it impolite to say, ''I know.'' "Forgive me my ignorance, but I have not been taught much of your people, the Wood Elves. Are you related to the Dust Elves?"


    "We are of the same blood but not of the same kind," said Tyrasa. "In the strictest of terms, we are one people and race. But our ways are not the same, for we came to this land long ago from the domain of Valranor. In those happier days, all these woodlands were bright, and it was a land of eternal summer.


    "Before the coming of your kind into the world.


    "Now we are few and have dwindled further. Dark creatures creep into our domains from the south. Mortals presume to raise their hands against us. For a time, we sheltered those who the humans enslaved and taught them the ways of the woods.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Yet so many have come that we cannot account for them all.


    "Now, many have raised their hands against us." It was the attempt to appear grave and noble that really sabotaged it. Tyrasa was pretending to be a battle-hardened and cold-blooded warriors.


    The problem was that the Wood Elves had not been wiped out or continually persecuted. On the contrary, they had built their society around surviving. So when there was no great threat, they could do nothing. This was why they were losing control of the gnolls; they probably hadn''t needed to lead them in war.


    And without a war, the gnolls did not regard them as an authority.


    "You don''t seem to know very much about it," said William.


    "Shut up!" said Tyrasa. "Is it the custom of the men of Harlenor to make snide observations of royalty?!"


    "Woman," said William with a sigh. "I do not care if you are a goddess.


    "I came here as an emissary and was immediately assaulted by the most conceived ambush I have ever seen. All ranks are suspended until this surreal situation has ended."


    "You sent no word ahead," said Tyrasa, looking down and pouting.


    "How can I send word ahead when you ambush every single person who comes in here?!" asked William. "The general consensus is that you don''t want to talk to anyone. And no one wants to talk to you. Since no one has a good reason to invade this place, no one comes here.


    "So I assumed that since I was in the company of Jehair, I thought I might be given a chance to account. I might ask where precisely I would send my messenger. I know nothing of this land or your settlements by your own excellent design."


    "Stop it!" said another, the blue-haired one. "You''re ruining it!"


    Ruining what?


    "You have assistance that these humans can render?" asked Tyrasa, regaining a bit of composure. She was speaking to Jehair now.


    "Through them, yes," said Jehair with closed eyes. "William has a talent for negotiating with satyrs. He comes from a clan of humans that prefers negotiation to war. Indeed, he has recently returned the Goldenwood Harp to Alchara, asking nothing. Only that the Dreaming Goddess be freed from an obligation she did not desire."


    "I see," said Tyrasa, pausing. "I begin to see why the spirits clouded our eyes.


    "News of the recovery came to us, but we had heard nothing of his part in it. If what you say is true, then he may be among those who could redeem his race. But what service can you offer us now?"


    "For now, we have replaced the leadership of the gnolls to your benefit," said William.


    "We have met their emissaries," said Tyrasa. "The one you now call High Priest once came to us. We allowed him in, and he learned of us and our ways and parted amicably.


    "It was hoped he might make a good druid for his people. For often, those sent to us by Laevian learn their ways. But he never returned, and Tavish Kern has come to this place since. We knew you to be an enemy of him.


    "Many of your kind have already entered our domain unbidden, and we have intercepted each one. However, the gnolls we have taught as children are led astray by them."


    "Tyrasa, such an uncompromising policy will lead to war," said the blue-haired one, coming forward.


    "Then let there be war," said Tyrasa. "We stand ready to give our lives blood, to fight to the last and slaughter each one in kind."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "And who are you to speak of all things?" asked Tyrasa.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "What makes you believe that Typhos has any power to aid us?" asked Tyrasa.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Temples?" asked Tyrasa. "I see.


    "Then it seems we have reason to consider some part of our vendetta with humanity repaid. Yet it is only a small part, and it changes nothing. We must stand here or fall forever."


    "By your leave, Princess Tyrasa, I would ask that you find an alternative," said William. Right now, he was wishing he was back home for the first time. "Although I realize your anger toward outsiders is well-warranted. This course of action would lead to your death. It would be a grievous blow to the world if your people were wholly eradicated in a battle that could be avoided."


    They were certainly very beautiful.


    "And what do you suggest? That we submit to the savagery of the satyrs and gnolls," said Tyrasa, trying to sound like a bitter veteran.


    Why would her people want the young of their race to behave as a bitter old woman? Were they putting on airs?


    "No, rather I suggest that you channel the savagery of the gnolls," said Willam. "Find a mutual enemy who these gnolls can hunt and be hunted by. Then their aggressive power shall be set against your enemies.


    "And you may aid the other races."


    "Would you have us send them against your own kind?" asked Tyrasa surprised.


    "Not my kind, certainly. For I must see to my own race''s security, though we have harmed both of you greatly," said William. "Rather, you must bring them against enemies who are the friend to no one.


    "Bandits, perhaps, or the dark creatures you speak of."


    "I see," said Tyrasa, shifting her hips and walking past him to stand under a beam of moonlight. It would have made her look beautiful and mysterious if she weren''t so incompetent. "It is true that much foul undead prowls the lands of the accursed Withering King. Though he is gone now, driven out by King Andoa, Neral Dinis has replaced him. Though he makes no open war against our people, those who walk the wood''s southern edge are often preyed upon.


    "We had hoped to one day move against them. Yet our numbers have not increased enough, for we have not the fortune of the High Elves."


    "Perhaps then, that day has come," said William.


    "William may be correct, Tyrasa," said Jehair quickly. "With the power of the satyrs, we might well hunt down many of the undead. If we could clear them away, it would cleanse the land of taint and make new lands for others to dwell."


    "My family holds dominion over the lands to the north, milady," said William. "Although we cannot strike Neral Dinis directly, we have much sway. There are many who have been dispossessed of their lands just as you were long ago.


    "They might aid you in this venture.


    "Without combined strength, we might seize such lands in your name. Provided only that a suitable cause of the war was found." Blackfear would have to have the undead population culled if they were to move people through it. Reports had shown traffic had become nearly impossible in the last decade. Only the High Priest''s agents could move through it unmolested by treaty with the undead.


    A relic of happier times when Cirithil''s predecessors had been beloved and trusted. Archbishop Alonsus had been renowned for his kindness and love of peace. He''d been a great friend to the poor and needy, and also King Andoa. Though Prince Bor had despised him, and they had feuded. King Andoa must have wept to know what was happening here.


    "No man dwells there now, so it would be good to see the wood expand again," said Tyrasa. "The undead''s presence has sapped the land of strength. The trees groan with anger at the mistreatment of the plants there.


    "For the feet of the undead stalk us.


    "We will eat within the main outpost here if you will follow us."


    "Of course," said William. He would be only too happy to put the matter behind him at this point.


    The blue-haired women produced blindfolds, never before used and very clean. They came forward toward them. "It is the custom that all outsiders go blindfolded."


    "I shall do no such thing," said William simply.


    "But I had to sew these by hand and keep them clean," said the woman. "Maybe as a personal favor-"


    "No," said William. "I need to be able to see this land to know how to best help you. And anyway, the trees obviously don''t like me. And I want to be able to see." S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Fine," hissed the woman, taking them away. "But I hope you trip over the roots."


    "Felix," said William. "Return their bowstrings."


    "As you wish," said Felix.


    Felix spent the next few minutes handing them over.


    And so they walked unencumbered through the trees. It rapidly became apparent that the wood elves groomed themselves. But they did nothing to reign in the woods, save the very bare minimum. Perhaps it had been a good defensive strategy once, but it made moving inconvenient. Massacre ate well, though.


    However, one night, as William rested, he awoke to find a chill sense in the air. Standing up in the shelter he was in, he grasped his sword. Felix was on watch, and Jehair was gone. Looking down from the treetops, he saw in the darkness many shambling shapes. Low, unnatural snarls came from them as the scent of death came upward.


    They moved in vast numbers, trampling over roots. As they did, the ground beneath their feet deadened. Suddenly there was a horn call, and gnolls came out of the trees with spears. A spiked net was drawn across their path, then another to one side.


    Whatever they were, they tried to tear down the rope first to get at the gnolls. Yet before they could, arrows whistled down from above. Each one found a mark, and they fell by the dozens in moments. Yet more of them were streaming off and fanned out to hack at trees. Here they were met by the gnolls who stabbed and hacked with spears and axe, fending them off. Arrows fell from elsewhere. More came, only to be checked by more ropes, seemingly coming out of nowhere.


    Massacre was roaring and tearing about. So that soon there was a burst of fire here or there. The shapes departed that area, and other shadows followed. The night went silent, and Jehair clambered back on.


    "What happened?" asked William.


    "A large contingent of undead came into this domain," said Jehair. "We''re not sure how many.


    "The move was clumsy; however, had it come on us unawares, we may have faced serious issues. Your presence here threw the elves into alert, and it may well have saved lives."


    "I''m pleased to hear it," said William. Divine providence, perhaps? No doubt their complete failure in the previous ambush had taught them a thing or two. "Need we fear attack?"


    "I do not think we need be afraid until we reach Blackfear," said Jehair.


    At that moment, Tyrasa and Shai appeared, scaling up the tree like panthers. They had spent every arrow, it seemed, but they were pleased. "Victory is ours.


    "Our trap has worked."


    "Trap?" asked William.


    "We lifted the wards on the border that the undead might enter," said Tyrasa. "From there, we fell on them and destroyed them all. They are mindless creatures that hunt wherever they can. They saw only weakness, and we destroyed them all.


    "As you can see, we are quite proficient.


    "What do you think of our demonstration?" She smiled.


    "Very, very impressive," said William. "Surely, it was not made for my benefit, however."


    "Not yours," said Tyrasa proudly. "But those you speak to will know we are quite skilled at ambush. Indeed, I think I may use these tactics again. There is no sense in letting the dead grow too numerous.


    "We may well find a purpose beyond simple preservation."


    "What was this place like before?" asked William, gazing up at the leafy boughs.


    "When we arrived here," said Tyrasa. "My Father and Mother, that is, this place was being destroyed. Woodsmen under the reign of Anoa the Butcher were working at it. We managed to keep it alive and drive out men with axes, then later the undead.


    "We battled here for many centuries, gradually growing in number. Over time, the forests regrew, and we are entering the best part of the woods."


    All of what was said was born out.


    The corrupt influence of the undead was short-lived. By the time night passed, all of the bodies were gone. As if eaten by the woods, and flowers were growing in their place. The darkness gripped their feet was lightened, and the birds chirped more. William knew that if Tyrasa had decided to shoot him by stealth, they would all have been dead.


    The trees were indeed very large here and reached high. But the wilds here were untamed, and there was no rhyme or reason to it. William noticed that there were trees that had been shaped into dwells. Under the sun, it looked impressive, and he wondered how they were made.


    "Are there any more like this?" asked William.


    "We warp and change the trees as little as possible," said Tyrasa. "All our arrows are taken from the trees without hewing them. There are spells that we taught to Telix.


    "But he went south to Gel Carn and built himself a great fortress in the Wolven Forest. His ways are not ours."


    "Then why are they in such a bad mood?" asked Felix. "This is the largest forest I''ve ever seen. No one is checking their influence, and their neighbors dare not hew wood.


    There were other structures like this. The ground became wet and spongy, and they left structures in the treetops. Below, one could see the drab and untamed realm all around them. No axe or plow had hit any of these places for ages, and yet no one was happy.


    You could see many deer, however, and it seemed they used this place as a sanctuary.


    "Animals do not hunt within our sight," said Tyrasa. "It seems a custom."


    Laevian didn''t care.


    That was the problem. This realm had been created and deliberated to imitate Laevian''s own vision. Laevian did not care one whit; her love for this place was the same as her love for any place. Just because it fit the description of the sort of world she wanted, it meant nothing.


    Because Laevian didn''t care about the wood elves, she wasn''t even interested in them.


    "Do you worship Laevian?" asked William suddenly.


    "We go to her when we die," said Tyrasa. "But nature does not care about individuals. Save for a kind of balance."


    William didn''t say that he thought Laevian didn''t care about that either. "...What is special about this place?"


    "This grand structure was once but the merest of our outposts," said Tyrasa. "In the old days, the Wood Elves held dominion everywhere from here to Brisgald. Brisgald, where House Gabriel now has as its capital, was ours.


    "But with the coming of Anoa the Butcher, we were driven in. Village after village was put to the flame, and we were forced to flee. Yet no matter where we went, Anoa followed us until, at last, we came to this place. Anoa sent his men after us, but Laevian sent diseases to destroy them, and our ambushes killed many.


    "Here, we have held our ground since.


    "Our numbers have grown since then, if only a little. We number a little under a thousand in many scattered places. There is an abode of ours in the Black Marshes. And it is my task to ensure these woodlands remain defended."


    "Why did you accept slaves and gnolls?" asked William.


    "We saw victims of the humans and sought to aid them," said Tyrasa. "When they came, we chose to try and make use of them as best we could. It bolstered our numbers and was invaluable for a time. However, humans were only conveyed to other lands.


    "Humans tend to congregate and cannot be as easily melded to serve the wood."


    "Understandable," said William.


    They had nothing.


    These elves drank water and ate food meant to do as little damage as possible to the land. He saw it. Their homes were just woodland with no order save what was necessary for survival. Most of what they discussed was the land or the possibility of defiling it, if they talked at all.


    And yet this seemed a particularly merry meeting by their reaction.


    "What are your goals?" asked William. "What do you want out of life?"


    "...To preserve the woods," said Tyrasa thoughtfully.


    "But what else?" asked William. "What is it you want for yourself?"


    "We do not ask that question," said the blue-haired one. "We exist to serve the forest and preserve what remains."


    What could possibly be worth all this?


    "Show me what is left," said William.


    Tyrasa nodded.


    So they have led away, and William them talking more now. He asked them many questions, asking about people who came and went. One or two merchants had commonly come to this place now and then. However, none of them had ever ventured out of the woods except Tyrasa and her friend once.


    Her people, apparently, kept having women instead of men. This was to their liking since they did not want to overpopulate. The men were tasked with less interesting supporting roles. All because they might be aggressive or fight for themselves. And they were forbidden to fight.


    Marriages were arranged based on which people demonstrated favorable traits and were forbidden otherwise. No one was allowed to associate with outsiders. Doing so risked turning them against nature. Sex outside of marriage was allowed, so long as it was between the same gender and spouses did not stay together.


    In fact, continuing a relationship with a spouse or your child was discouraged. Shai did not even know her Mother or Father, though Shai suspected the identity.


    "So," said William. "Would you consider it a good thing if humans began to live as you do?"


    "That will not happen," said Tyrasa, surprised.


    "But would it be a good thing," said William.


    "Of course," said Tyrasa.


    "What would you do if the entire world began to believe your philosophy?" asked William.


    This seemed to disturb them.


    "Live at peace with nature," said the blue-haired one at last. No one had mentioned her name.


    "But you are not at peace with nature," said William. "You alter it to continue your way of life. You seem to regard your purpose as protecting it from those who distort it even more.


    "Is the purpose of life to end?"


    Silence.


    "No more questions," said Tyrasa. "Our work is necessary. Without it, all would perish, including those we fight."


    It was a good answer. Not perfect, but still a good one.


    At last, they came to a great fortress, and it stood above them. It must have once been greater still, and the narrow, elegant spires were breathtaking. Vines had grown up over it, but there seemed to be a kind of order to it. As if in respect. Yet all this could not hide the fact that the stones had fallen. A broken tower and many walls was crumbling, and parts of it had been eroded by rain.


    It was a sad sight, and they would not permit him to walk this.


    "This building must have been great to have withstood the ages for so long. How have you maintained it?" asked William.


    "We have had difficulty doing so," said Tyrasa. "The wood has done much to aid us in this. Much knowledge was lost, and new construction has replaced old. It proves now a poor substitute for what we once had.


    "Yet, it is our lot to preserve what once was for the sake of what could be."


    "Would it not be better to restore it to what it once was?" asked William.


    "I do not think it possible," said Tyrasa. "Much of our old arts are lost; the stone mines from which the earth once gave willingly are gone. Now the dwarves draw from them."


    William thought about his old adventures. Then he remembered the stonemason Vensus who dwelled in Antion. He was immensely talented and knew much about architecture. "Even so, Princess Tyrasa, I may know one who could be of service to you in that regard."


    "Who?" asked Tyrasa.


    "His name is Vensus; he is a master architect of the High Elves," said William. He was looking at the magnificent fortress. "Indeed, he was found worthy of building a temple to Typhos and the Dreaming Goddess. It was one that I was instructed to build, but I do not have his skill.


    "So I made arrangements for truly elvish stonework to be put in place."


    Tyrasa looked to the others, who nodded. "We have no money to pay such architects."


    "That may be so, but House Gabriel has vast reserves," said William. "We have become very rich in trade, and we seek now to improve the land."


    "You would have us in your debt, human?" asked Tyrasa, raising an eyebrow.


    "Not at all," said William, thinking of all the atrocities that had torn the world down. It had taken a long time to get to this reasonably peaceful era. "We would still be in your debt. If we could restore some of the life and beauty that we took away from you, it would be more than compensation. In truth, my Father has an immense fortune, and accumulating too much wealth could be a problem.


    "If we might spend some of it on a worthy cause, it would be better than many other uses."


    "It would," said Tyrasa.


    "Of course, I can promise nothing until I have spoken to my Father, the Duke," said William. "But I think we could see some of the glory of this place restored if all goes well."


    Tyrasa looked at the others, who seemed interested. "You speak kindly for a human. But I do not think the High Elves know the techniques."


    "Perhaps not," said William. "But, they might in time be rediscovered. Some gods remember those days. Perhaps Barden of the dwarves has a memory of it.


    "I do not believe there is any wound that can be healed, no matter how terrible. And there is much my people could gain by restoring what was lost to us."


    "You may be correct," said Tyrasa, nodding. "Very well, I shall speak to my Father of it when we arrive. Yet, for now, you should remain silent. I warn you that humans have seldom suffered to walk here. Therefore, you should speak only when spoken to, whatever your rank.


    "There are older and far more powerful sentinels about this place. And they will not be amused by you as we have been."


    "I shall do as you suggest, then," said William. "Milady."


    Tyrasa was surprised by the formality but nodded. Things were developing now. If this went well, he could destroy Cirithil once and for all.


    He just had to find the way.


    Still, was this journey never going to end? He wanted to meet King Faras, get this mess settled, and get to Gel Carn. Which would require going through Blackfear and the domain of Lord Tarsus.


    William prayed for an uneventful journey through both.


    That was not going to happen.

 Chapter 169 - Twenty-One: House Kern

    Some time had passed.


    Tanith wasn''t sure how much. Several skirmishes followed, with much drilling and ambushing. Once, she and Edward did battle, and she was cast down, but Sokar drove him off. So soon, the conflict dragged out, and prisoners were released.


    On and on it went; Anborn returned with armed men from Father. These soon formed the main backbone to hold advances. Edward''s men assailed them three times and were pushed back from the river. And three times they assailed in turn until the third time, Tanith led a small force over the water.


    As they walked, Tanith saw the snow melting little by little. Soon Kern''s forces would be able to come and go freely. Reinforcements would come from King Gavin, and so Tanith would go. Walking over the rocky dirt, she noticed something with pleasure. Granaries and houses had been left untouched. Only soldiers were targeted in the fighting, and the body count had dropped.


    "Are you sure about this?" asked Kata, eyeing the fortress of Kern. They crouched now behind some stones. You could see a well-ordered village, with a water mill not in use and well-made structures. New inventions, comparatively speaking. "You''ll have to go within an arrow shot of House Kern. Why not wait for us to start the siege?" Kata had proven to have a knack for the land, able to maneuver them about.


    "That''ll be far more dangerous," said Tanith. "By then, they''ll have everybody up in arms. And there might not be a siege. Things are settling down now."


    "Let me go with you," said Anborn. "I can help you."


    "No, Anborn, you need to stay here," said Tanith. "Father can''t lose both his children, and you don''t have a knack for negotiation."


    "But Tanith, I know this territory," said Anborn. "There are people I''ve made contact with who could help us, and I know how to avoid tolls. I used to do it all the time, back when I was trying to be a bard, even if I lost my harp.


    "I''ll be of more help to you there anyway."


    "I agree," said Kata, an edge in his tone. No one had forgiven Anborn or forgotten. His numerous kills had given him the status of a tolerated nuisance. Which was the place where his journey had started.


    Tanith nodded. "Alright, but I don''t want you in the fighting.


    "Someone has to help Sunthred."


    "Tanith, be careful," said Kata.


    "Who the hell do you think I am?" asked Tanith with a laugh.


    Then they set out, her and Anborn.


    And the moment they left the stones behind, Tanith remembered his earlier actions. The memory of that time she''d overheard his companions talking of his fleeing came to her. What affection she''d had for him now turned to anger.


    "Wow, um, I guess we''re on the road on an adventure together, huh," said Anborn.


    "Certainly seems that way," said Tanith, trying to be cordial.


    "Maybe we can use this as a chance to," began Anborn, looking more like his old self.


    "Let''s just keep moving, alright," said Tanith. "And don''t introduce us; let me do the talking."


    "So, um, maybe we could talk to Lord Kern- " began Anborn.


    "No," said Tanith.


    "But Tanith, if we can talk to him, maybe we can sort all this out?" said Anborn. "I don''t like killing people. Nobody else does either."


    Tanith turned on him and felt the urge to strike him. It was resisted, but she felt utter disgust and tried to hide it. "Or he''ll take us prisoner.


    "I want to get a messenger through to the King and explain the situation. If I can ask King Gavin to mediate, the problem solves itself."


    "Lord Kern wouldn''t do that," said Anborn. "I spoke with him once; he''s a really wise and powerful sorcerer. I know he''s... well... come under bad influences. But he''s always polite to everyone."


    Tanith should have known Anborn wouldn''t have shaken off his delusions. Whatever, time to explain things to the child that wouldn''t just die.


    "Yes, which is why I''m avoiding him," said Tanith. "He''s a wise and powerful sorcerer who is our enemy. I don''t want to go within five steps of him. And anyway, I think that by now, he is in the domain of Father.


    "We can come back after we speak with King Gavin." Anborn was an idiot and of no real use in this venture. And his crimes were terrible; if he''d acted earlier, this never would have happened.


    "Right, sure, okay," said Anborn.


    "Follow me then; we''ll want to go up into the hills," said Tanith. "The villages there are mostly under the management of Edward."


    "Isn''t that the last place you''d want to go, then?" asked Anborn. "Why do you hate Edward so much?"


    "Because he hates the nation that gave him everything," said Tanith. "And I want him to suffer."


    "...I''m not going to be able to come back here," realized Anborn. "They used to like my harping. Now I''ve killed their men."


    "What of it?" asked Tanith, now feeling annoyed. "You accepted a position selling Furbearers into slavery without consulting Father. What did you think would happen?" She found herself vaguely interested. "What did Father say anyway?"


    "He wouldn''t see me," said Anborn. "Just spoke to me by messenger and told me to help you." S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It''s no more than you deserve," Tanith sighed. "Why slavery?"


    "Well, Tavish is my friend," said Anborn, pausing. "And slavery isn''t wrong. Everyone agrees that enslaving our enemies is part of the war. The Furbearers were encroaching. I mean, I guess it''s unfortunate, but Lord Kern was going to do it anyway.


    "And Father has always said that politics is not personal. So my friend, Tayuya, said it would be a good opportunity to prove myself. Have you met Halish? She''s really nice? And she''s an amazing shot with a bow."


    "One of the redheads?" asked Tanith.


    "Well, I guess she does have red hair, and she is really pretty," said Anborn. "Though Red Safara does as well. She actually agreed with Halish when I asked her after meeting William. She''s this really tough warrior lady who worships a snake goddess.


    "And she''s from-"


    "I don''t care about your childish crushes, Anborn," said Tanith. "I don''t know who this Tayuya is. But she''s obviously manipulating you for her own ends.


    "Probably a plant set by Tavish to push you in the right direction."


    "She''s my friend," said Anborn.


    "Why would any woman want you?" asked Tanith incredulously. "You barely qualify as a man.


    "And that''s after you got your spear bloody."


    Anborn looked downcast. "You never treated William this way."


    "Because William was fourteen when he acted like this," said Tanith. "He has a weak phase and got over it. You''re starting late, so you''ve got a long way to go before you''ve got my respect."


    "Why?" asked Anborn. "I was trying to help the family by taking that job. I know I''m not as smart as you, but...


    "You don''t think slavery is wrong, do you? Not even Atria does."


    "Atria?" said Tanith. "What of her?"


    "The slavegirl you brought in," said Anborn. "You were in love with her.


    "Um, she was always nice to me."


    "I kidnapped her because I wanted a living reminder that I defaced Baltoth''s temples. I had my way with his priestesses and killed his people," said Tanith. "She''s a token of my victory and however much I boast. Though I''ll admit, she''s quite proficient at letters. At least if Mother''s stories are any indication.


    "I just brag about it because it gives me an excuse to tell war stories."


    Anborn halted and didn''t seem to understand. "So... why keep her?"


    "Maybe she''ll make a good hostage. Let''s just keep moving," said Tanith. She didn''t really know the answer herself. "Oh, and one more thing.


    "Don''t have anything more to do with these redheads. They don''t like you for you; they advise you to betray your family and work with criminals. No secret meeting, no letters exchanged. Cut them off until Father says otherwise."


    "But-" began Anborn. He halted. "Was it really a betrayal?"


    "Yes," said Tanith, not in the mood to mince words. "You cut a deal that could alienate our strongest allies without consulting anyone. You allowed these people to isolate you from your advisors and then take sides with Lord Kern. And this Tayuya and Red Safara?


    "They convinced you to do it. They convinced you to betray your family.


    "You should never have gone into that room with Rius without someone a lot smarter than me. And not bringing me in was beyond idiotic.


    "These friends of yours aren''t your friends. They are spies. You''ve got to make a clean break, or they''ll drag you back in. Do you want to go to hell, Anborn? You''re heading there right now."


    "I understand," said Anborn. "...I won''t see them anymore."


    "Then it''s a start," said Tanith. "And apologize to Father when you see him. You broke his heart. Mother''s as well."


    The journey toward the fortress of Kern got more difficult as they went. They had to dodge patrols along the roads. It seemed that Kern had put his troops out the watch for raids. Anborn turned out to know many good hiding spots. And he was able to outmaneuver several patrols, which was passable. It was interesting to Tanith that she was so completely unable to forgive him.


    She could only assume it was by divine will.


    But, at last, they reached the pass of fallen stones. Tanith prepared to head in, noticing a good place to scale the wall. When House Gabriel had first come to this place under Erik the Voyager, House Kern had been nearly as weak. Carn Gable had been given to Erik, and House Telus had made good relations. Together they had worked to rebuild Haldren and battled Viokin raiders and Calishans.


    Kern was awarded status as the most trusted servant of King Gavin. Yet Erik the Voyager was awarded no prize. And when he died, his legacy for all his heroics was that his house survived. The old Duke, Garath Gabriel, had spent his days serving and establishing credibility. Promises of fame and riches were given by Kern and others, and not one was fulfilled.


    Not one.


    By the time Garath died, House Gabriel had only become a library. At the same time, prize after the prize was delivered to Kern, the conceited bastards. House Telus had become rich. Some discussion was made of returning Gel Carn to another Lord who served him better. They were allowed to keep it out of pity. A marriage was set up with Mara Hawkthorne, a whore daughter of an honorless house. All to ensure poor Vanion Gabriel wasn''t left without a home.


    And the promises continued.


    And then Vanion made the promises come true. Duke Vanion, a man of unsurpassed will and power, forced the Gods to give him his due. When others were awarded positions he was owed, he achieved glory even as he discredited them. His machinations destroyed his enemies. The destiny that had been denied him was taken by revenge after revenge.


    All the broken promises were repaired in blood and humiliation in rivers. And those who did not heed his words paid the price.


    And now this magnificent chessmaster. This Prince, who wore the form of a noble, was going to be King of Antion. William would be a Prince in his own right. And these ungrateful wretches who dared oppose him would be but footman. Stupid servants who, in their avarice, had sought to cheat the true King from his inheritance.


    But they would be stripped of everything and thrown out onto the street. And Tanith now was the piece that would begin the game.


    "Anborn," said Tanith. "Go and find your friends.


    "See if you can get someone to Kata and tell her what is happening here. And compile a report on the economic situation here. Then, send it to Father and say nothing of it to Lord Kern."


    "Um... numbers aren''t my strong suit," said Anborn.


    "I''m not asking for numbers," said Tanith. "I need you to get Father an economic analysis of how things are going here. Travel around a bit, and figure out how the land operates. It''s the sort of thing he''d want to know before signing me off. And it could stop this whole thing.


    "How are the people? Are they well-fed? How do trade networks connect? You know how to talk to people. All that could help House Gabriel.


    "Go, quick."


    "Right, sorry, sis," said Anborn.


    And he rushed off.


    "Idiot," hissed Tanith, feeling a seething hatred return.


    Tanith knew that yarn was a very popular product and rope as well. House Kern controlled ports along the eastern shore. Many of their products competed with the Furbearers. It was largely a matter of preference. However, they also made great profits from their pottery. Mother had a number of vases at home made by great potters like Richard Estious and Algious Waldman.


    Names she had heard but knew little of, saving that they were pretty good at what they did.


    Tanith realized she felt no affection or warmth for Anborn. Far less, in fact. Either way, some part of her said there was no point in going to King Gavin; Kern was the real person she had to talk to.


    Standing up as before, she drew her swords and walked toward the gates. As she did, many guards surrounded her but dared not approach. Nearing the gates, she saw Edward standing with sword and shield in hand. The guards parted, and Edward came forward. "Tanith Telus, you''ve taught me a great deal about religion."


    "Do not mock the Lord Elranor, or I will not settle for slaying you in turn," said Tanith. "For I shall leave your corpse eyeless to be feasted on by the birds. All while the corpses of your family lie before your still spasming corpse.


    "Your fields shall be put flame while your servants taken as slaves. Your bloodlines are erased; you''re stricken from history save as a nameless shame. You dare to speak to me, traitor to your race and the curse upon the womb that bore you?


    "I am the daughter of a mighty Lord and a personal friend of William Gabriel. I have burned vast stretches of Calishan territory and fought in full-scale battles.


    "I don''t have time to give you the proper instruction on how to use that sword.


    "And you are nothing."


    "But milady, how will you eat when every field has been burned?" asked Edward.


    "All I have to do is reduce the surplus population through violence," said Tanith. "Starting with you."


    "Perhaps you should consider what exactly the surplus population is," said Edward. "Perhaps Elranor regards you as less worthy of life than those you slay for the sake of mirth?"


    "And yet, you are merely an engineer, and William is a Paladin. I wonder what that says about you," noted Tanith.


    "It might also say much about the god you attribute your atrocities to," said Edward.


    Murmurs of anger and approval mixed.


    "Draw steel, you witless worm, and I''ll give you one!" said Tanith, drawing her blades.


    "Worms perform an important function in the dirt," said Edward, readying. "Do you?"


    Blade clashed with a blade as his shield warded off a strike. Their weapons moved in a dance, parrying and thrusting as they circled.


    "I might just as easily ask what function life has?" asked Edward.


    "We are Harlenorians! We are heirs to a glorious legacy of blood and struggle!" said Tanith, smiting the shield so that it cracked. "The perpetuates of a heroic cycle older than the stars themselves! We fear neither death nor pain and are as stern to inflict as we are stubborn to endure!


    "The world is a fleeting dream! The universe is hell! Yet we fight on in defiance! Our enemies are cast down by cunning and steel! The weak are purged, and those who are strong are rewarded!"


    "And what of those who cannot defend themselves?" said Edward, warded off several blows. One strike rang off Tanith''s shoulder and sent her staggering to one knee. "The farmers and craftsman? Those who do the tasks that make this nation work?"


    "If you cannot defend yourself, you are not Harlenorian!" said Tanith, striking at his legs to drive him back. "The militia system is the guiding principle upon which Harlenor is based! All must be able to defend themselves against abuses of power! To do otherwise is to invite slavery!


    "Farmers and craftsman are not weak by nature, nor are merchants. On the contrary, they have skills and power in their own fashion, worthy of praise. But all of these are only useful with the power to defend themselves!


    "Look there, Edward Kern, look at what you have done!"


    And she turned to motion across the lands where many fields had been trampled by blood and war. Several farms had been abandoned, and both knew the corpses. The farmers now walked armed.


    "This is your doing," said Edward, attacking again. "You escalated the situation when things were quieting and led a raid! So now the land is torn by war!"


    "It was not by my hand that the King of the Furbearers was treated as a petulant child!" said Tanith, turning his blade and disarming it. "Your condescension bit their pride more than any curse!" Another blow cracked the shield. "For you made it clear that even among their allies, they were not respected!


    "The choice was between slavery and war! And so we chose war!"


    With a final blow, Edward''s shield was broken. Yet he threw himself to the dirt to snatch his sword where it lay. Then, turning, he struck at her from low, and Tanith leaped back, flourishing her blades as he came at her.


    "Such has been our choices throughout history," said Edward, sword halted.


    "And a glorious and brilliant history it is indeed!" said Tanith, attacking in wild joy. "An epoch of mighty deeds and invention, lovers and infidels, battles and tragedies! Ours is the path of a warrior race of knights, destined to rule for a day and die in glorious battle!"


    "Your day will be short indeed, you who worship death as a friend," said Edward. "And you are no knight but a berserker." He was driven back beneath a flurry of blows as one landed on his shoulder, pauldron, knocking him to the ground.


    "Your words have the strength of your shield," said Tanith. "It is by death and healing that all you possess has been given. By the labor of those ancestors you scorn, you may do what you have done.


    If you had prayed for Elranor for guidance instead of scorning him, you might have been shown the way! If you had opened your mind for even an instant, you might know what it means to be Harlenorian!


    "Instead, you remain in your high library, looking out from windows, and come out only when the fancy takes you!" She got him in the leg.


    "Earth, water, fire, air..." said Edward, halting the onslaught and striking back. "The human body can be recreated from these four base elements. The result is the same whether we are made from clay or iron. Our physical forms can be easily reconstructed, provided you are powerful enough. Yet the Gods cannot create souls.


    "Those come by means we do not understand from dimensions we cannot conceive of. And those who are closest to the gods pay the price."


    "It is the price of glory, fool!" said Tanith. And her sword slammed against his foot, shoulder, and side. His armor saved him, but he fell back. "What is a simple lot, if not a mediocre descent from one mundane and pathetic pleasure! All to end as a boring corpse in a tedious coffin!


    "It is through the slaughter of our enemies that we gain our salvation! Though the battle against impossible odds! To fall in battle, a blade in hand as your enemies cower in fear and your comrades escape to complete your work! Such is the glory of a Harlenor!


    "Such is the glory of House Telus!


    "What is your glory save chains and defiled straw?!"


    "You are mad, woman," said Edward, on one knee and trying to fend her off. His hair was filthy, and he was bleeding from the lip. "You regard the world as an eternal war to be waged for your own pleasure. But what of those you have slaughtered without regard to cost? I choose the life of a builder, a provider, who gains respect for his deeds and good nature.


    "I choose to be different from those who came before. Just as you are different, far worse than Anoa the Butcher himself!" Murmurs of outright disapproval.


    "Your speeches are as empty as your heart, Edward," said Tanith, hitting him all the harder. "You who condemn your forefathers and everything they believed! You who fought out of self-righteous self-pity now speak of good nature! You scorn the Gods and yet expect to bear an aura of holiness!


    "Men such as you declare themselves just men yet are disappointed when they are dismissed. Shall you pray on a mountaintop that Elranor might appear?


    "Will you then sneer because he did not bare himself to your knife?!"


    "Elranor would understand my concerns if he is indeed so wise," said Edward. "And you, Tanith, has he ever appeared to you?"


    His next strike disarmed one of her swords, and he went at her before she could grasp it.


    "I don''t expect him to," said Tanith, now in a contest of strength. "I who have battled my whole life that his name might be feared have never expected him to speak to me. I know his will by the nation''s will, and my sword is directed where they will.


    "William Gabriel is his champion, and I am his right hand."


    "You delude yourself. The amulet at your heart tells your true nature," said Edward, shoving her back as before. "Perhaps you would like to see the work of your true master!!"


    Tanith struck, but he raised a hand, and as her blade hit it, the sword rang off steel, though there was no armor. The sleeve was torn off, and she saw a hand of cruel steel.


    "Behold a steel hand of Fortenex, which my Father gained for me by great pain!" said Edward. "This is the result of your path, Tanith! I feel nothing on this arm, neither the warmth of the sun nor the breeze around me! Long I labored and studied, seeking to become the perfect knight!


    "By many arcane rituals in my Father''s keeping, I sought to reach onward! Beyond the Soul Event Horizon to gaze on what lay beyond!"


    "You were a fool to even try and deserved what you got," said Tanith.


    "So said many who knew well to hide from it," said Edward. "What I found burned my arm away from me and nearly claimed my very existence. It killed several completely innocent servants. Their bodies were reduced to bloodstains."


    That was...


    The funniest thing Tanith had ever heard.


    She laughed and laughed and laughed like never before. The men recoiled, horrified as a shroud of red power surrounded her. And Tanith felt another laughing with her.


    "You laugh?" asked Edward.


    "You made a deal with with a demon, and it backfired," said Tanith, bringing down her blade to hit him on the shoulder. "William was not such a fool." Edward tried to raise his blade, but she disarmed him. "They have no truth to impart, deceive, and betray! Such is their nature! You were stupid, and the gods cannot abide stupidity!"


    A final blow floored him.


    "Is it stupidity to venture into enemy territory to gather information?" asked Edward, trying to rise. "Or to wonder why things function the way they do?"


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    Tanith kicked him down and pinned him. "Yes. I remember our time together and why I choose to go to Carn Gable instead.


    "You ignored every taboo; you scoffed at the warnings of religion! You sneered at those who dared have faith. And when you had to admit that those with faith were better than you, you did so with condescension.


    "You were the perfect fusion of stupidity, pride, and vanity.


    "What protection do the gods owe you that you have not flaunted? Have you ever once prayed? When have you looked for warnings, really looked? Not just looked for an absence."


    "Have you?" asked Edward, grasping for his blade.


    "Of course!" said Tanith, snatching it before he could. "I am Tanith Telus! My sword sends souls to Elranor''s grip with every blow I make. My every conquest is in his name. I obey his commandments as best I can and defend his people.


    "All you''ve done is sell them for slaves." Stepping off of him, she planted the blade into the ground. "And now you use the gods as a means to excuse yourself for your atrocities. I helped the Furbearers set themselves free while you refused to help them. Even Tavish did more than you; all he cares about is money."


    "It''s too late," said Edward, standing up. "Events are in motion that cannot be stopped." He wiped the blade on dead grass as a priest came forward with water.


    "Duke Vanion is already stopping them," said Tanith. "His plan is already in motion. You can see it across the Fursnow river we''ve been fighting over. And in House Telus, in me, and in the downfall of Lord Rius and the corrupt.


    "You can see it in Artarq, which brings in more weekly revenue than it did in a year under Argath Marn. Fortresses raised upwards to the sky, Baltoth defeated twice. So maybe you should be focusing on what exactly you can do right now, beyond fighting me? Because I can do this all day.


    "I am not one who shall engineer this. I simply foretell.


    "Duke Vanion shall one day be King of Antion."


    "And if the future does not cooperate with your delusions?" asked Edward.


    "I''m just an insane blood knight, Edward," said Tanith. "You and these men should make your own judgments.


    "Take me to Lord Kern.


    "I would speak with him at once."


    Edward sheathed his sword, as did Tanith. "As you wish.


    "I will take you to Lord Kern under parley." Water was offered, and she drank.


    They were quick to do as she said, and Tanith was glad they feared her.


    "Who was the other with you?" asked Edward. "William?"


    "Not at all," said Tanith, wiping off her blades and sheathing them. "William is heading to Gel Carn." Then she halted as she saw several shrines. Shrines adorned with images she''d seen on tapestries before. And there were people praying at them. Fires were burning high by them with burnt offerings. "Shrines to Maius, Isriath, and Imogen, Goddess of Thieves.


    "You are worshipping foreign gods?"


    "It was by the direct demand of High Priest Cirithil," said Edward. "We needed certain networks of his. In addition to a ''gift'' of silver, he wanted these raised.


    "Are you going to cast them down?" asked Tanith, feeling her contempt for him growing.


    "Why would I?" asked Edward.


    "Perhaps these are why you lost Elranor''s favor," said Tanith. "Pray on it."


    "Are William''s books exaggerated?" asked Edward.


    "Not really," said Tanith, feeling the Shark Queen depart. "I mean, I wasn''t in Seathorius, but he did do most of the stuff I said in his novels. The Khasmir Campaign was a nightmare. No plunder, nothing but demons for miles around; Kusher, William, and I had one of the most dangerous jobs.


    "You don''t survive that kind of operation without being good enough. You should cast all these shrines down. Nobody is worshipping them anyway. Then order a few days of prayer and contemplation.


    "If should help ward off any bad spiritual influences."


    "I suppose," said Edward.


    "Why do you ask?" asked Tanith.


    "Because..." Edward halted and then led her over to one side near a water clock. A more advanced one, at that. "I believe that the demon I communed with was Laughing Wraith.


    "What matters is that Father has been off. He''s always been very responsible and dutiful and loyal to the crown. Then out of the blue, he interrupts long-made plans. He starts talking about enslaving the Furbearers.


    "Granted, there were decent reasons, as far as they go.


    "But he seemed almost driven mad like something was getting at him and forcing him to do it. His eyes were different, and he was shifting, looking odd. I actually called a priest to ask him for help, but he didn''t see anything. He wasn''t possessed, not directly, anyway.


    "I had the feeling that if I had tried to stop him, he''d kill me."


    "Is he-" began Tanith.


    "Father is far too loyal to every knowingly betrayed King Gavin," said Edward. "He''s had several, much better opportunities than this.


    "And he was good friends with Lord Osris, though they drifted apart.


    "They went on several journeys to Seathorius together after the ceremony. Father said that he was trying to find out more about what I had seen. But he never spoke of what he found on that. It turned out he was undertaking negotiations with a Calishan noble, Emiran. Often they were hounded by Laughing Wraith on the way, but they always escaped him. Once, Osris even wounded him on their last trip there, and it was nearly his death.


    "Those stories haunt me still.


    "This was before Duke Vanion formalized relations. So, Emiran was necessary to discuss things. He wasn''t part of Calisha, but he was connected and could play middleman. A number of other nobles went there as well.


    "That was when Father started to bring home women from Caliph.


    "All of them were beautiful, and something terrible had happened to them. Father would give them basic jobs, such as maids or other things. And they''d act as if they were in heaven to play the role of servant. He never touched them, with the exception of one he kept as a Mistress. Tavish was his son by that, and he went out a long time ago to prove himself, and nobody could restrain him.


    "Don''t say any of this to Father; if you could do, it could bring out... him."


    "Him?" asked Tanith.


    "A different side of Father; it''s like a vicious cornered animal," said Edward. "A dark parody of who he is. It started to manifest the more women he brought back. He''s been trying to save them, but I think the thing he''s trying to save them from is coming with them. The more he draws them in, the more power it has over him.


    "He stopped recently and said it was interfering with his work."


    "Maybe you could get them to pray to Elranor," said Tanith.


    "If nothing else, it might pain the creatures on the other side," noted Edward. "I do not understand how such creatures could ever be allowed into this world."


    "Because we summon them by action," said Tanith. "The Gods can''t save us from ourselves."


    "We should go," said Edward.


    He led her up a flight of stairs by the walls of the keep. They were steep and wound around the side. There were holes in the walls above which could pour lime and other things down at them, over the wall. Their people were laboring to reinforce defenses and moving goods; Tanith saw it was dusk.


    It had been a fun little war, with a few hundred casualties from a variety of places. But it was good to get back to killing Calishans. And she had killed some Calishans here anyway, so it worked.


    They went through a door, minded by a stunningly beautiful woman with empty eyes. She had a happy and content look on her face that disturbed Tanith. And though she had long blonde hair, there wasn''t much to mark her as a person. Another led them up the stairs and saw such women as servants. All were dressed conservatively and were doing practical, sensible things.


    It was as though they were in paradise.


    What horrible wrong had been done to make this castle with cold stone? Why did a few adornments seem like heaven? Was it Kern? Edward kept his eyes away from them. But, at last, a door opened into an office. Lord Kern was behind a desk, writing with a truly miserable look. His eyes were veiled in shadow, and he almost looked like he might break down and cry, though he never would.


    But there was no reason for it.


    Looking up, Kern saw Edward and smiled slightly. A bit of the darkness came out of his eyes, and he stood. Now he was the stern man. "Edward, you''ve got her to come back with you.


    "Just excellent. I''m told that Tavish is controlling the situation, and things should be going well. You''re going to have a lot more responsibilities going forward.


    "I expect I''ll be called all over to mediate things. Vanion is reasonable, but Edmund Telus has hated me for years. Getting him on our side could be interesting."


    "With respect Father, I should undertake some missions out of Haldren," said Edward. "I have been here too long."


    Kern nodded. "If that is what you wish."


    "Also, given the situation, it might be best to call for a week of prayer for the population," said Edward. "Demons seem to be slipping through the cracks."


    "What for?" asked Kern as if he''d not heard the last part.


    "I believe our spiritual defenses have been weakened," said Edward. "The servants, too, should do so. Regular prayers if only to keep worse things at bay." He eyed Tanith in obvious terror, though he hid it well.


    Tanith had felt a power within her, not the Shark Queen, but something else. Something awakened by proximity to the Shark Queen.


    "The people may do as they like," said Kern sternly. "Faith in the gods is personal, not political, and compelling it is useless." Then he looked to Tanith and stepped around the desk, straightening his blue robe. "Please, Lady Tanith, this way. I am Lord Kern; I hope my subordinates did not alarm you."


    "She alarmed us," said Edward.


    They were led out of the office and down a side passage. Then up a flight of stairs to the top of the only tower.


    Here they came to a room with two odd water contraptions. One of them was a pool of water in a bucket, suspended perfectly still. It was very still. But a strange, tube-like device dripped water into the surface, sending many ripples for a time. Eventually, there was a moment of perfect clarity, and then there was another drop.


    On the opposite side of the room was another water contraption. It was a series of tunnels with swirling water within. Some magic or means was causing it to spiral around in an eternal circle. Tanith saw beneath it that many gears and weights were making it happen. Even so, it would eventually need to be reset. Looking back to the other, she saw that the machine with the buckets would also need to.


    Tanith felt that the machine with the rushing water had to be reset more often. Over each one was a window facing the sunrise and sunset, a poor defensive structure, yet glass was in front of it. So that there was a beam of light on one in the morning, neither at noon nor on the other at the desk.


    Did they represent something? Kern was standing between them as if an automaton.


    "I''m not here for pleasantries," decided Tanith. "What alarms me is the balance of power falling to pieces around us, Lord Kern. An army of Furbearers is planning to come down here and siege you. I tried to talk them out of it, but they are intent on blood."


    "You were the one who led their attack," said Kern.


    "I am interested in a stable buffer state between our peoples," said Tanith. She was putting on her most professional appearance. "That is the entire reason that the battle was fought. The Furbearers perceived the conduct of your emissaries as condescending. It was apparent they were not respected.


    "Since they''d liberated themselves from slavery with my help, they were angry. I choose to channel that anger toward attacking your military."


    "And your favored targets are my Dren guests?" asked Kern.


    "The Furbearers believed there was a plan to supplant them using the Drens," said Tanith. "And, I have no desire to see Harlenorian men supplanted by immigrants. If they were honorable, they ought to have died for their country.


    "As it is, they fled to us. So we killed as many foreigners as we could while hurting you."


    "Well, if nothing else, that bloodletting has cooled the hells of our fighters. It has helped ease the immigrant''s arrival," said Kern, gaining a bit more humanity. "I promised them sanctuary and shelter for their families.


    "The malas trade Vanion has started is being used to transport refugees. Individuals who no longer want to live under the tyranny of Baltoth. Many of these men were waiting for a family."


    "Tell them their Father died to defend their future," said Tanith. "Then give them all the worst jobs and hope they go away."


    Silence.


    "Have you no compassion?" asked Kern, as though he''d been expecting to be asked that question.


    "Not really," said Tanith. "What about the Babarassians? What is your plan here?"


    "The plan has succeeded, finally," said Kern. "Lady Farwa managed to get the promised malas to my ports, and I may now build a Sorcerer''s Guild for King Gavin. It was intended to be quiet, painless, and not disturb anyone. That was never an option.


    "For reasons which by this point must seem all too obvious.


    "Our original plan was to transport it to the Furbearer ports and move it here. However, with the Babarassians scattered and broken, we may instead send it by our usual route. The trade lanes should be safer.


    "King Tyos will have much safer voyages to Themious henceforth." Silence, and he looked for words. "This entire situation has been a disastrous escalation no one wanted. And I am beginning to wonder if anyone at all planned it that way."


    "What do you mean?" asked Tanith.


    "Tanith Telus, could you tell me everything that has happened so far from your perspective?" asked Edward, interceding.


    "We''re going to be here a while," said Tanith.


    Kern looked up as a door entered, and a woman entered. For a moment, he regained some measure of his humanity. He looked more human now. "Would you bring us some tea, please?"


    The woman already had tea, as though she''d done this before. It was set down on a circular table in the corner. Tanith had not seen it, but now it was pulled out by Kern and Edward, and chairs set down. So she sat down with them.


    "I have never seen servants so happy," said Tanith.


    "They come from a place called Caliph that could charitably be called hell on earth," said Kern. "A nice place to visit if you don''t pay attention." His voice was filled with hatred and disgust. "I did pay attention, and I observed the brutal treatment of the women there. They were bred for beauty, but they were treated as animals. The surrounding nations around Caliph hate the place; it is a twisted parody of their culture.


    "The name was chosen to mock them.


    "I needed servants, and I chose to free as many of them as I could. First, I buy them as slaves, as some people do. Then I give them employment and decent treatment, and honest work. I have only touched one of them, the first, and I will never do so again.


    "Both of us do exceeding well by it." His disgust was even worse than before.


    "I have always said this was an unseemly practice," said Edward.


    "You have not been to Caliph, Edward," said Kern. "The place is a nexus point like Antion. , But unlike Antion, it has been corrupted by outsiders and turned into an abomination. I make no exaggeration when I say that... all this is akin to heaven compared.


    "No beatings, no being raped for fun and healed, no verbal abuse or being sold to even worse masters. Some of them have been sold to demons, Edward, like the one that took your arm. I can''t save them, but I could help these.


    "They have mass graves just for the women disposed of in the snuff houses."


    "Snuff houses?" asked Tanith.


    "You don''t want to know," said Kern sadly. "Antion was not becoming Caliph; you don''t need to fear. It took many ages for Caliph to be what it is, and those who built it would be ashamed.


    "It requires a very specific level of evil.


    "One must be utterly repulsive but have enough good qualities to not be utterly destroyed. Yet those good qualities must be hostages of sorts. I suspect they also have trade with the Demoration and are being propped up by outside resources.


    "''There innocent people in this city.''


    "Thus preventing the gods from seeking vengeance. You also need a view of good in the surrounding lands that does not allow vengeance. If any society around Caliph were willing to start a war for revenge, the city would be annihilated in a week.


    "But, if revenge is wrong, you can only have defensive wars. You may only assault a city with a clear, strategic reason. In worldly terms, however, the cities benefit from Caliph immensely. It provides income and money; they generally keep their worst atrocities out.


    "There have been wars with them. Yet the city has never been destroyed."


    "Rather like Zigilus," said Tanith, remembering the tales of Abdul Sahshir.


    "Rather, Caliph is what Zigilus might become if not destroyed periodically," said Kern. "Zigildrazia makes a point of destroying Zigilus before it faces a crossroads. That between becoming wholly irredeemable and abandoning the path of lust.


    "Caliph is what happens when such a city continues down that path. Antion would need many ages to decay that far. And it would have to be very gradual, or the fall would destroy them."


    "And what about the Furbearers?" asked Tanith, surprised that Kern talked about this so much.


    "They attacked us; first, it is as simple as that," said Edward.


    "What do you mean?" asked Tanith.


    "Tensions had been growing between the border settlements for some time," said Kern. "The Furbearers and my people were growing numerous. King Gavin had created a lasting peace. But the Furbearers had no tradition of going to war, and many men went to war. So they found themselves coming to find Furbearers squatting on their land.


    "''King'' Osris has no authority to compel his people to do anything. He is a general organization that is called on in times of crisis. He could suggest they stop firmly but could not force the issue. Some of them went back; others pressed forward. Then, a few months ago, things began to get out of hand. Several fights broke out, and there were a few robberies.


    "The militia was all ready for conflict.


    "Of course, ordinarily, I would have negotiated matters with them. And I did, several times, in fact. But they kept pushing.


    "That alone, of course, would not be sufficient justification for the scale of the attack.


    "But there were other factors."


    "What factors?" asked Tanith.


    "I was tasked by King Gavin with creating a Haldrenian Sorcerer''s Guild, as I said," said Kern. "It is a project I have been working on for some time. Largely figuring out what had to be done for it to happen. The Guild prefers to keep information private. However, it was decided that it must be done secretly.


    "If Duke Vanion learned of it, he might think we were moving against him. The same could be said for many other political parties. So many business interests would be damaged if the Sorcerer''s Guild had an alternative."


    "We delayed the plan for some time," said Edward. "Fearing escalation.


    "But word reached us that King Tyus was planning to arrange a political marriage. So it was with the realm of Stormstrike. Magicora is usually the place that provides magical support to Haldren. And since Escor is divided, we can handle them working against us. They prefer to remain neutral.


    "Yet if Escor becomes stable, Magicora would have to pick sides. And Escor is the logical choice.


    "That meant we had to destabilize Escor or get our own magical school. For obvious reasons, we chose the magical school."


    Kern nodded in approval and smiled a bit. It seemed to be a great act of will to do so, but he managed it. "The problem is that such a school requires a nexus of energies. A place where spirits can be more active than is normal for the world. Wielding magic in a normal place is easy enough as an isolated incident.


    "But try having an entire class practice it, and you''ll exhaust the spirits very quickly.


    "An organized curriculum requires malas to create the energies the spirits use."


    "Thus, why you attempted to get it from Antion?" asked Tanith.


    "Yes," said Kern. "I''ve long had contacts with the Sorcerer''s Guild. I had a rather extended career. They understood the need to maintain the balance of power and avert a war. At the time, we''d expected an extended war with Calisha.


    "Vanion''s strategy was... unique and unexpected.


    "In any event, we''d put together everything. However, we could not actually get it through to Ascorn. Vanion has been admirably ridged in policing the use of malas, all the more so since the Khasmir Campaign. That is a good thing, and no one save the corrupt begrudged the loss of Savior''s Run. But it caused serious problems.


    "Duke Vanion is, after all, a political rival or at least a potential one.


    "That was why I arranged for one of my sons, Tavish Kern, to establish waypoints with the approval of the local lords. At the same time, it took some of the pressure off the nobility and provided a means to bypass the absurd taxes.


    "I mean the ones'' on the King''s Road.


    "It isn''t the fault of any one person, you see, the system used for the King''s Road-"


    "I know the system I''ve traveled it, and it desperately needs reform," said Tanith.


    "Something to discuss later," said Kern. "In any case, the system was set up. And it led to great prosperity in Ascorn, at least until Arkan brought in the Healer''s Guild. Arkan, of course, claims it was inevitable, but the truth is the nobility could have stopped it at any time.


    "Antion has become complacent and weak, and the fiasco with Lord Rius has finally woken them up. They fear that if another incident like that happens, they could have a rebellion. Thus they are working to do what they should have done a decade ago.


    "Historically, the best solutions involve fixing them at the beginning."


    "Does not Tavish work for Arkan?" asked Tanith.


    "Nominally? Yes," said Edward. "In practice, no one works for anyone but themselves in the criminal world. They are akin to nobility, without principles, sophistication, or morals. They''d love to be considered Lords and Ladies of the underground.


    "But I''ve never heard of a Lord being applauded for beating his wife or murdering his best friend. Such things happen, but it makes the Lord in question a pariah. Kafka was the exception, and that was only because he got results and was insane."


    "I hadn''t noticed," said Tanith. "His actions seemed pretty rational to me, if a bit ruthless."


    "The point being, Tavish was out for himself as everyone was. Arkan put pressure on him one way, I another, and Rius as well," said Edward. "He is simply a mercenary maneuvering his way one way or another in changing tides."


    "He is no more a mastermind than yourself or I," said Kern. "Unimportant in the face of forces beyond one man''s ability to influence directly.


    "Do you see that tranquil pool over there?" He pointed, and Tanith looked. "When a drop of water lands, the ripples are all anyone sees. A single stone makes all the difference. Now, look at that manmade vortex. You toss a stone into that, and it makes no visible difference." Tanith realized that there was water dripping from a tube into the water. She hadn''t noticed.


    Which was the point, wasn''t it?


    Was Tanith the vortex or the stone? The mania which possessed her now and then remained in the background. Yet it was also within her, part of her. It was staying outside and waiting to enter, feasting on every foe she slew, driving her to greatness.


    When Tanith laughed, another woman laughed with her, and the wind carried her voice.


    "Some, like Alchara, say that the pond should be forever tranquil," continued Kern. "Yet nothing will be done if that is the case, and man will decay. So why even bother to exist if all your existence is to observe yourself? Pierce too many layers, and you will find that you have stayed in a castle your entire youth, doing what you were told.


    "A tranquil pond becomes stagnant and overgrown with weeds and muck. And all you can do then is rip it up.


    "Others, like Anoa the Bright, believed in constant movement. Unceasing energy in pursuit of your goals.


    "You can''t see your own reflection in a rush of water. It will bring you neither knowledge nor truth. Only unending toil. Ripples and oceans in storms."


    "How does this relate to the Furbearers?" asked Tanith.


    "Transportation," said Kern. "Your father, Edmund Telus, is a staunch ally of House Gabriel. And he would never allow this kind of operation. The malas would be seized the second they arrived and returned to Gel Carn.


    "The route to King Gavin''s domain, meanwhile, is difficult. Babarassians often prey there, and the ships would take us past numerous dangers. And even if it arrived, it would surely be seen by Escor and others. So secrecy was important to the plan as well.


    "So the Furbearer''s lands were the logical place. We needed to set up a port there.


    "I was trying to negotiate such a plan; however, they are extremely defensive in yielding any of their lands. And, they consider territory that is mine by right theirs by virtue of squatting there.


    "Tavish became aware of these difficulties. He suggested we might bring in the Babarassians. Effectively drive the Furbearers out and get rid of them for good. I initially turned the idea down flat. Aside from a lack of morality, it is also a risky move that could easily backfire.


    "A belief which, I''m afraid, seems to have been proven all too justified."


    "So why did you do it?" asked Tanith.


    "Outside pressure came from Antion," said Kern. "King Gavin was informed that crop failures might occur if the fields were not tilled. I could confirm the information. As laid out by Anoa the Bright, the first rule of being a ruler is that you cannot let your people starve. Unless starving is the only way to avoid slavery, of course, he was very particular about that.


    "Atravain refused to give back any territory she had bought, and neither did the others. But, to be fair, she had the legal right, and blood spilt and shed by her late husband had claimed it. At the same time, there was more fighting on the border, and tensions were getting even worse.


    "Then, somebody burned down a storehouse filled with valuable goods. A rumor broke out that Furbearers did it, and given the situation, everyone believed it. I suspect an overzealous individual might have done it. Or it could have been an accident.


    "But it did not matter.


    "Once it flared up, there was going to be a fight. If I tried to stop it, I would be acting against all my superiors'' will and destroying my power base. And since the Babarassians would at least be drawn away from their usual haunts, I took it.


    "I expected to force some bad terms on them, take enough slaves to fill the quota, and go home. Unpleasant, not unprecedented, and necessary. I am sure you have done the same for many villages. In any event, your Father would surely have interceded on their behalf."


    "So what happened?" asked Tanith.


    "I won," said Kern sadly. "My forces completely overwhelmed the Furbearer armies. The guards were not at their posts; many drank despite Osris'' objections. The Babarassians landed at about the same time and hit them from behind. I''d already conquered them by the time word came to Edmund Telus.


    "That''s why I gave your brother the position; I hoped to stave off a full-blown war. I''d assumed that Rius was reasonably competent. Whatever did you kill him for?"


    "Sokar killed him," said Tanith. "And he was utterly incompetent. He refused to let me sit in on a meeting with men from Haldren. He was dismissive and handled his operations poorly. In addition, he had dealt with everyone but refused to assert control."


    "He refused to let you sit in on meetings?" asked Kern. "Was the man deranged? That''s as good as an act of war. I was trying to establish a marriage alliance between our houses to end the feud."


    "Marriage alliance?" asked Tanith.


    "Yes, it''s a common practice," said Kern.


    "I don''t have a problem with it," said Tanith, surprised he implied she did. "It''s my duty if my Father orders me to marry someone. And it is a good reason."


    "That do you credit," said Kern, sounding pleased. "But I don''t understand why he would not let you sit on the conversations? Several notable dignitaries expressed distress you did not attend when I was there. They''d come from all over.


    "Rius just said you were occupied with the garrison. He said he''d had to direct you in everything and was dismissive of William."


    "Rius dismissed me as William''s attack dog," said Tanith. "A sort of tame wolf that savaged anyone he told me to. Not to be allowed into meetings.


    "Maybe he thought I''d overshadow him." She paused. "...Reg Hawkthorne was running the place better than him.


    "So I challenged Rius to single combat, and he sent men after me. I killed them in self-defense, except for one who ran away; I killed him for cowardice. Anyway, I more or less was done with him."


    "Was it necessary to kill those men?" asked Edward.


    "Yes," said Tanith. "They attacked me, and who do you think clapped all those people in chains in the first place? I didn''t even use my swords; I did it with my bare hands and no armor.


    "What else could I do?


    "Rius sicced them on me."


    "We''ll call it fortunes of war, Edward," said Kern. "We''ve already killed several Telus'' men and many Furbearers."


    "In any case.


    "My plan, insofar as it went, was to reign in my unexpected success. But the Babarassians were already there, and I couldn''t stop them.


    "Even so, I took solace in that at least the plan had succeeded."


    "Then Reg Hawkthorne happened," noted Tanith.


    "Not really, no," said Kern. "Reg Hawkthorne was a nuisance to me, not a threat. He caused a lot of trouble for Rius and the countryside, and he ought to hang. But his efforts were not significant enough to come out here.


    "He would have let the malas go through, especially since the Babarassians were on his side. In fact, he played into my plans, such as they were, perfectly. So reg was a perfect justification to bring Lord Dunmoore in and begin a war with the Babarassians.


    "Once he arrived, the Paladin Order could justify a campaign to destroy their colonies. That would have also removed the economic crisis that Duke Vanion''s peace terms set off.


    "It was William who destroyed everything. Though I suppose the root problem was that Reg could take power in the first place.


    "You see, he was an outsider once he arrived and only saw the surface-level problems. So he looked for the sources of those problems and dismantled the entire machine. At the same time, you rose to a position of influence over the forces of Ascorn. You ingratiated yourself with the paladins.


    "Rius might have been in command, but he could not alienate you.


    "Neither could he explain the situation because doing so would reveal the whole show. So he just had to play along and try to salvage things. The real issue was that William only saw the machine when it was misused. So he took the whole thing to be nothing but a parasitic abomination."


    "I don''t think you realize how much it could be misused, Lord Kern," said Tanith. However, she appreciated how surreal it was being the one to say it.


    "Perhaps I did," said Kern. "But under proper direction, it would not have been a problem. Duke Vanion is such an example. The Dust Elves are kept in control.


    "Systems tend to grow beyond their intended constraints, and it was a necessary evil at the best times. However, at this point, it does not matter.


    "The Sorcerer''s Guild will likely face investigation. Tavish has had his business empire dismantled by his own associates. The Furbearers have been invaded, enslaved, and traumatized. House Gabriel has been forced into a direct confrontation they don''t want.


    And a lot of innocent people are dead.


    "And absolutely no one has gotten what they wanted. Not without cost."


    "What about the militias you''ve been training out there?" asked Tanith.


    "Preparation for an inevitable war with House Gabriel. And trying to help speed along the Heir of Kings," said Kern. "You see, Arengeth wants the Calishans to have connections to Haldren. If only Vanion could negotiate with them, it would leave us in an impossible situation.


    "You''ve been doing much the same thing. And a competent militia system is one of the responsibilities of nobility."


    "You see, we''d thought you were planning a takeover," said Edward. "Thus, why were you reluctant to send forces to Khasmir.


    "Vanion has a reputation as ambitious and ruthless and a bit of a social climber."


    "Duke Vanion is a great man," said Tanith, offended. "And mark these words; one day, he''ll be King of Antion."


    "What makes you keep saying that?" asked Edward.


    "Nothing I''ve seen from the other factions has impressed me," said Tanith. "Rius was a fool; House Hawkthorne is easy to manipulate; Atravain can''t control her own people. King Andoa is nowhere to be seen, and no one takes House Korlac seriously.


    "That leaves House De Chevlon and House Gabriel. The Dust Elves are on our side, and William is taking the Thieves Guild to pieces. So the only piece left to play is the High Priest of the Gods and the Paladin Order.


    "They are not allowed to take sides.


    "Vanion is respected, and commands the loyalty of many powerful men. And he is in a defensible and vital position. His power base is secure. There is an Heir of Kings in Gel Carn, who has the support of Gail Arengeth and is very unimpressive. Relma Artortious is no warrior and can''t lead armies.


    "She''s a decent showman and speaker but has no real guts. Benarus is a fool who can''t stick by his own kind. His strategy for dealing with an invasion of wolves was to wait for Arengeth to fix it for him. When people tried to hit back, Benarus shut them down hard.


    "Argath and I did some damage, but Adrian Wrynncurth had it all his own way."


    "Where are you going with this?" asked Edward.


    "Relma is going to want to be set up as some sort of Queen or King," said Tanith. "So give her a job as a mediator. Vanion takes Antion by marriage or appointment, and Arengeth keeps repairing Escor. Everyone wins."


    "I thought you hated Relma Artorious," said Edward.


    "Not really," said Tanith. "Nobody wants to lose their nation to some amorphous mass to go make friends with Calisha. We''ve our own lands, and we want to mind them. So set her up as a figurehead mediator with a wise advisor, tell her she''s important and shut her up.


    "Then just don''t appoint her heir. Problem solved.


    "No popular will; everybody gets to keep their nation."


    Kern looked to Edward. "...I must say, this sounds like a dreadfully good idea.


    "I''ve never been fond of the idea of remerging Harlenor. All of us are our own people. Anoa the Bright was a great war leader, and we owe him much. But his time is long passed.


    "Perhaps, Edward, you could undertake a mission to Antion to investigate sentiment. Share the idea a bit."


    "It seems a worthy task," said Edward.


    "And what are your thoughts on this, Tanith?" asked Kern.


    "Well, I''ve gotten to kill a bunch of people without any guilt or moral culpability," said Tanith. "I''ve gotten to go on a bunch of adventures with a beautiful foreign Princess. I''ve made House Gabriel more powerful.


    "And to top it all off, everyone is blaming everyone except me.


    "So I get off scot-free. Pretty good run if you ask me. Could have more dead Calishans, but I can''t complain."


    Kern sighed. "...I''m very happy that the miserable state of the human condition has worked out in your favor, Lady Telus. And I will certainly not be marrying you to any of my sons."


    "Thank goodness," laughed Tanith.


    Today had been a good day.

 Chapter 170 - Twenty-Two: King Faras

    Today had been a bad day.


    They''d gone through ground that was downhill for most of it. Tyrasa and her comrades found no end of amusement in their troubles. For one thing, no one except Jehair was able to move through the roots and trees without difficulty. William fell several times and, in his armor, had to be pulled up by Felix. He nearly twisted an ankle, which got melodious laughter from the Wood Elves. Even Massacre had it, for she did not seem used to this forest. The roots seemed to take a special interest in grasping at her.


    Tyrasa often called behind as she walked, looking back at her slender neck. She had a tendency to sway those wide hips of hers rather provocatively as she looked back, and she was not alone. Her garb left little to the imagination, and it was difficult to imagine a better sight. She had a very toned physique, as did all of these elves.


    They were also quite open about bathing, though William did not take advantage to look in those cases. He bathed separately from them and kept his back to them as they did. No matter how much he wanted to. Although a comparable one was visible when she looked toward him. Their breasts, soaked with cool spring water, were very firm were-


    No, not appropriate thoughts around a woman.


    Jehair must have also bathed at some point; however, he did not see when she left his company or how. She obviously had a talent for appearing and disappearing. And once when she appeared, she had wet hair that had been unbraided and allowed to dry, and was wearing a second set of clothes.


    Felix played cards against himself.


    The trees were nice when you weren''t walking through them. But ultimately, they got past it, only to pass into boggy lowlands. However, they took secret paths that were very difficult to pick out. Tyrasa insisted he tells no one, but she needn''t have bothered. He could not pick out the path despite William''s efforts as he followed her.


    "What was that place?" asked Felix as they rested on an island.


    Some of the elven women were eyeing one another with amorous glances. A few looked to William or Felix, but they kept their distance.


    "The Fortress of Kalisa," said Tyrasa, waving them off. "It lies near what was once our northern border, and we defended it from looters many times. Now, however, the trees have grown high.


    "It has fallen into ruin, but we seek to maintain what remains in the memory of what it once was.


    It was stripped of treasure by King Anoa''s soldiers. Father fought there, killing a dozen men while covering the fleeing refugees.


    "That was in the days after the fall of Lord Feanor, who once ruled Bright Guard before Orson. He kept Anoa at bay by diplomacy and war for long ages and was the chief of Queen Dawn''s lieutenants. And south of Gel Carn was the Greenlands, where Queen Sylvar dwelled in better days. Now that domain is controlled by Adrianeth, the Demonic Archon of Pride. Battles are waged against him daily.


    "We have sometimes led troops to aid the men building there in secret. It is our way to strike by ambush. However, the need has not been there for many years."


    "You aid humans?" asked Felix.


    "The demons are the enemies of all," said Tyrasa.


    "What do you mean ''for long ages?''" asked William.


    "Well, that is to say, the rise of humanity predated Anoa the Bright," said Tyrasa, looking away with a blush. "Anoa was a name often given to great heroes. It was said there was only one. Though we have few records remaining to us."


    "If there are any records you have, I would love to record them," said William. He suspected she was too easy to become infatuated. "I have a love of history."


    "You would have to prove yourself to my Father, of course," said Tyrasa. "Tell me, what do you know of Queen Sylvar?" Her tone was interested, and William did not see why.


    "We were less fond of her. She was brutal with humanity," said William.


    "And by her actions, she prolonged our civilization," said Tyrasa, voice a bit chiding.


    "I believe she shortened it," said William, remembering the records. "Atrocities never benefit the side that performs them. I do not believe Anoa or humanity was helped by their misdeeds. Even if this conquest was necessary. The brutality of it bought all our people misery."


    "In that, we are agreed," said Tyrasa. She had the most beautiful blue eyes, actually. "But we must move on."


    They pressed on and finally came to the main settlement. You could tell it was because many people were sewing, and there were more shelters there. However, there did not seem to be any real village. William guessed that they were nomadic, and this place was intended more as a meeting place. There had been periodic shelters they''d stayed in any way.


    Then William saw King Faras.


    He wasn''t sure how he knew it was him, but he was an unmistakable sort of person. His body was covered in furs, and he almost looked like a bear at first. He had a long, very long green beard, and his hair was long and green as well. His violet skin had a greenish tent, and his eyes, too were green. In one hand was a gnarled staff, and he had such old eyes.


    You could not imagine such eyes on someone young; they were like the oldest trees in the world. And they had great misery that had even been etched onto his face.


    "Father, I bring you visitors," said Tyrasa, going stiff.


    "I have seen them walking in dreams of horses," said Faras. His voice was gnarled and authoritative. William felt as though he were speaking to nature itself.


    "Forgive me, Father," said Tyrasa. She and her companions had changed in appearance. "However, they have already been of some service and wish to repay their debt to our people."


    "Then they will be toiling forever," said Faras. "Seldom have we allowed your kind within our woods? And not at all within our city, not since the siege of Anoa the Bright. His legions did not pierce the gates then, and you will not walk where he could not live without a battle.


    "Who are you?"


    William halted. "I am William Gabriel, the son of-"


    "Your lineage is of no concern here. And you?" asked Faras.


    William felt a surge of insult at the statement but halted and kept his silence.


    "Have you no tongue?" asked Faras.


    "Answer him, Felix," said William.


    "I am Felix, a servant and companion," said Felix.


    "And the chimera?" asked Faras. "I assume it serves you, Jehair?"


    "It does not, Lord Faras. It is the companion of William," said Jehair.


    "I see," said Faras. "These... emissaries must remain here." The insult enraged William, and he had to stop himself from going to his sword. Why? "Jehair, you are known to us. You may enter, but they may not."


    "King Faras, these are very important nobles, and they have come to aid you," said Jehair.


    "I have often seen humanities aid," said Faras. "It ends with blades in hand. Never again. Their nobles even now clear vines and bushes that have stood for decades. In the name of the reclaiming ground, they do not need it. Their High Priest even now schemes and tries to subvert the gnolls who are our children to his own ends.


    "There is nothing that you could say that would convince me. Not unless it were the noblest of causes."


    That was his chance. "I have documentation of slaving records taken from the gnoll''s villages!" said William. "If you use this at the right time, you will utterly destroy the High Priest!"


    Faras looked up. "Cirithil and the nobility will suffer if we use these records?"


    "It will be the end of the church as we know it," said William. "Every noble associated with him will be utterly humiliated."


    Faras laughed, seeming years younger. "That, child, is the noblest of causes!


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Come in; I will look at this information and see if it bears fruit as I''d hoped."


    William handed the case over, and Faras took it. "You knew of it?"


    "Yes," said Faras. "There is an ancient elven strategy you should learn. When your enemy is too strong to defeat, you must feign weakness. Make them think that you are utterly defeated and too weak to respond.


    "If they believe, they will become overconfident and be distracted.


    "I knew, once Tavish Kern arrived, that there was no hope of a direct confrontation. So I did not make one, simply ordered the gnolls to cooperate. Eventually, he grew complacent and started storing records, which are necessary for business.


    "And now they are here."


    "Well, why didn''t you use them before?" asked William. "What were you waiting for?"


    "For you," said Tyrasa. "Or someone like you. I had hoped to work with House Korlac, but his overzealous obsession with the law means he will never work with me. And he is too prominent; if his opinion of me was raised, Antion would regard me as a threat.


    "Lord Arthur is more or less decent for a human, but he is too honorable. He would never enact such a stealthy approach. And Vorn has too many local connections to ever do it."


    "So it was either Tanith or me, really," said William. "No other house would have the pull besides ours. And no other member of our houses would have the inclination and cunning. It really seems like Tanith cutting that tree down might have been for the best."


    "Not necessarily," said Faras. "The Tanith Telus who chose not to cut that tree down would walk a different path. Her actions up until this point might be the same. But had she undertaken your journey, she could do the very same thing.


    "However, she chooses her path, and you choose yours.


    "Even if neither of you had chosen it, Lamech might have done it eventually out of spite. Or perhaps Tavish Kern could have been convinced to act. Thus, you are both unique and essential, and yet, not essential.


    "In this world, at this moment, you are the most important person to ever live. And yet you are insignificant, just as all of us our."


    "Why the deception?" asked William, surprised.


    "I had to know your nature," said Faras. "You do not know a man until they get angry. Humanity took a very long time to become angry, and that was ill for us all. They endured too much without complaint while we took it for granted.


    "The result was a forest fire that nearly consumed the entire world.


    "Had you flared up, stormed off, or simply remained silent, I would know your character. And had you simply broken off negotiations out of pride, you would still have the documents. No doubt you would eventually use them, but you would have no cover."


    "You''ve thought of everything," noted William.


    "I am a druid," said Faras. "My purpose is not to exist as an independent entity or live the life of a man but to be the manifestation of nature. To do so, I cannot simply be aware of all possibilities. I must be all possibilities.


    "It is not an easy thing to explain.


    "And yet, I must also be myself at times, bitter and angry at a world that tormented me. This is a burden all things must endure, the disastrous knowledge that they exist.


    "Tyrasa, remain here and ensure they do no harm. I must examine this with Jehair."


    And Faras departed.


    William could not help but feel a sense of relief. It was difficult to stand in his presence.


    "Forgive my Father," said Tyrasa. "He is old enough to remember the wars of old, and the atrocities committed in those days have scarred him. It is in his living memory a time when all this was great, greater than you can imagine."


    "Then he must have firsthand knowledge of the old wars," said William. "Would he be interested in speaking of your history?" S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Not to you, I think," said Tyrasa, shifting beneath his gaze. Many of her companions had already departed her. Only the blue-haired one remained, waiting. "Or to any human or errand, though he has made some records that he has made us recite often."


    "Perhaps he should arrange for the knowledge to be provided to others," said William. "His memory would be a fitting end to the days long gone. It might aid you in making humans understand your vendetta."


    "And you believe this?" asked Tyrasa, raising an eyebrow.


    "Well, the policy has worked quite well for me. A story that goes unrecorded is a tragic one," said William.


    "Have you seen many stories?" asked Tyrasa, raising an eyebrow.


    "Several," said William. "Massacre knows of them all. Or, most of them."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    Tyrasa frowned. "How is it that you became a companion to so majestic a creature?"


    This question seemed to attract the attention of some of the others. William soon found himself surrounded. The sheer number of scantily clad women was distracting, so he focused on Tyrasa.


    "It would be more accurate to say I became Massacre''s companion. You see, Felix and I had been fleeing from satyrs in the woods of Seathorius-"


    "What were you doing there?" asked Tyrasa.


    "Perhaps I should start at the beginning if you''ll allow me," said William. "Most stories are interwoven with others."


    "Please, do," said Tyrasa.


    "Very well then," said William. "The first thing you should know is that I grew up in a land far to the north called Haldren. It was harsh and frozen, but it was home. To me and to my closest friends Tanith and Felix. Tanith went away to the wars before I did, and so she did not take part in the events I describe..."


    And so William began to describe his stories again and enjoyed it nearly as much as before. Moreover, the descriptions seemed to fascinate Tyrasa and the others of her kind. Some walked away, but most stayed.


    "Then, leaping out the window, I scrambled up to the very top of the castle. All around me, I heard the groans and breaking," said William as he finished. "But the demoness was fast after me, and she lunged at me with her claw.


    "One of her claws caught me right here over this eye, leaving a scar for ages.


    "Then she summoned a great fireball and declared that there would be no escape. Well, I was prepared to meet my end by fighting with my bare hands if I had to. But just at that moment, a lightning bolt surged out of the skies.


    "It caught her, and she fell like lightning from heaven.


    "Of course, by that point, the whole castle was collapsing, and I should have been killed myself. But by divine providence, Kiyora and myself were rescued from harm. And Elranor offered me a position as one of his paladins."


    "You have had a very storied career, William," said Tyrasa, adjusting her hair and getting nearer. As though expecting something.


    "Yes, well, that was only the beginning of things," said William. "I''m afraid humans have a knack for calling up problems we can''t put down easily."


    "You seem all too aware of your flaws," said Tyrasa.


    "It is only by being aware of our flaws that we can work to fix them," said William, shifting to go get his pack. "I could not conquer my fear until I experienced it firsthand."


    "And how did you conquer it?" asked Tyrasa, following.


    "Well, for a start, the attack on my ship," said William. "But the true terror I faced in Seathorius, or I should say we, for Felix had his own adventures, was Laughing Wraith."


    "Father has spoken of this demon," said Tyrasa. "He says that it was called into being by the horrors inflicted upon our people by Anoa. The shock and the trauma caused it to take form and continually torment the dream world. For it was that part of all those souls that they rejected.


    "It is said that it sometimes takes on a mortal incarnation. Such was the case some years ago.


    "How was it that you confronted him and lived?"


    "Well, I was lucky and perhaps a bit brave," said William, sitting down on a stone and beginning to play his harp. "You see, the battle made Kiyora flesh and blood with Arraxia, and together we began a journey to Artarq. With Massacre at our side, we managed to avoid most problems. At least until we came to a sunlit wood and a creature beyond our worst nightmares.


    "Or, I should say, mine. Kiyora had battled him for years without incident. It was only because of our presence in the wood and her protecting us that wraith was no threat."


    "The Dreaming Goddess is well known as self-sacrificing," said Tyrasa. She was sitting down next to him. Her hands were clasped, and the proximity of her body was nice. The idea of holding her appealed to him. "Though she does not come here in person."


    "I imagine the dwarves and otters had more need of here than you," said William. "I suspect they are less used to the same hardships you have suffered."


    "You flatter us," said Tyrasa.


    William did not think that qualified as flattery. "I state a simple fact.


    "The Nakmar Dwarves have never faced a war of extermination on the scale that your people faced.


    "Baltoth''s intervention prevented the Nakmar from suffering the same fate.


    "Neither my race nor the dwarves have had an event happen on the scale that I have read of. And one does not flatter one by reminding one of the wrongs dealt to them. On the contrary, the flatterer focuses his attention only on virtues for the sake of personal gain.


    "They provide no assistance." He sounded much wiser than he actually was. William was beginning to see why the elves hated Anoa so much. Even if he had been good for humanity, he had destroyed many beautiful things.


    "It is said that one should beware of one bearing gifts as well," said Tyrasa, putting a hand on his shoulder.


    William shifted so that her hand dropped from him, putting his harp away as he stood up. He did not like this proximity; it did not seem appropriate. "It is a wise saying.


    "And you are right to distrust me until I have proven me. Shall I go on?"


    "...Very well," said Tyrasa, seeming disappointed.


    And William went on to describe his adventures as they went on.


    "Are you certain it was truly Elranor and not Ictargo?" asked Tyrasa hopefully.


    "Quite. I imagine I should have been corrected by now," said William. "I do not think that Elranor''s will did Anoa the Bright''s more ruthless actions at all. Not by direct command.


    "I''ve come to learn that sometimes a man may serve you loyally yet not enact your will."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Tyrasa.


    "Well, most of Anoa''s great victories didn''t involve atrocities," said William. "Yes, there were a few brutal moments, but that was when humanity was utterly desperate. I believe that Anoa went beyond the orders given by his god and pursued a personal vendetta. Or perhaps he could not control his own people.


    "Certainly, it would explain why things fell apart later in his reign. And Anoa II was wise enough not to continue the violations. Though it would have been better if he had corrected them earlier."


    "I have heard it said that he prevented others from entering the domain of the high elves. Them and others," said the blue-haired one impatiently. "He and those who came after he protected us from the worst of the humans."


    "That was small repayment for what they did to us, Shai. By then, it was too late,"


    "Is it?" asked William. "You have increased in number, and if all goes well, may reclaim some small part of what you once had? In time, perhaps you could reclaim more or establish colonies elsewhere. Not in my time, perhaps.


    "But if the surrounding lands were to come to understand you. As your own efforts continue, your land could be restored. Not as it once was, but perhaps in some new form with its own beauty and power."


    Tyrasa halted and looked at him. "What do you want, William Gabriel? What drives you?"


    "What do I want?" asked William. "I want to heal the land and the people who have been injured. Both mind and body. I want to create a world of strength but without brutality. To raise up great monuments to greater deities.


    "I would see the glory of the old world restored, but without eclipsing those things which are good about the new."


    "Those are very grand designs," said Shai in irritation.


    William moved a bit away. Their aggressive advances needed turning down here. "Yes, I''m aware.


    "In the immediate future, I''d like to get to Gel Carn for the Tournament of King''s and settle the present crisis."


    "Which crisis would this be?" asked Shai.


    "Well, it''s all very economical, and I don''t think you''d find it very interesting," said William.


    "I want to hear it," said Tyrasa, who was beginning to get interested.


    "As you wish," said William.


    And then he recited his adventures thus far, most recent. And they were mighty dull, a boring slog through plaguelands and dull parties. No rest, and no notable battles besides the duel with Lamech. Moreover, absolutely nothing of any importance happened to him.


    "And that brought us here," said William.


    "This is all very complicated," said Tyrasa.


    "To make it all very short, everything we do affects everything else. It has taken some time for me to learn that," said William.


    "That is a very druidic way of thinking about it," said Tyrasa.


    "I would call it simple common sense," said William. "Your every action affects others far more than you will ever know. Still, if all that had never happened, I might never have been able to meet you. Or a lot of other people."


    Tyrasa stood up, shifting. "I..."


    "Tyrasa, Shai, cease fraternizing with that human," said Faras, coming back, thank goodness. "You were assigned to guard him, not speak to him.


    "You, give this to your Father."


    And he handed William a letter.


    "Give this to him and only him," said Faras.


    "May I read it?" asked William. "I am aware of House''s situation, and I will not be with him for a long time. I may be able to tell you how he will react."


    Faras nodded, and William opened it, privately thankful Tyrasa had been fended off. She and the others had no real experience with other people. Her infatuation was not healthy for her.


    He read the letter;


    "To the Duke of House Gabriel,


    "Your offer of reparations, however insufficient, is accepted in the spirit it is given.


    "-King Farus of the Woodland Realm."


    "King Faras, may I tell you something you don''t want to hear?" asked William.


    "You may," said Faras.


    "This reply will never be accepted," said William. "For one thing, Duke Vanion is unaware of your situation. I was making the offer to you on his behalf. However, I would still have to speak to and convince him of my perspective. He has many concerns, and such a curt letter would alienate him.


    "Even if it did not, responding to such a response with, as you put it, reparations would be viewed as a sign of weakness. Human monarchs can never show weakness, or they will lose the respect of their people."


    "I am a King," noted Faras.


    "I am fully aware of our positions," said William, not wanting to say that Faras, as King, was weaker than many Lords. "However, it is impossible for us to respond to this.


    "Jehair, you are aware of the doings of nobles. She has an outside perspective and might know how to explain things better."


    "King Faras, please humor them," said Jehair. She was leaning against a tree with her arms crossed under her breasts. Her hair had been tied up above her instead of in braids, and it looked nice. "This is a real opportunity for us. It will speed up many of the plans already in motion."


    Faras nodded. "...As you wish."


    And he departed to go back to his work.


    "Your Father has different notions of statecraft from my own people," said William.


    "He had led us since long before I was born," said Tyrasa. "Of the original survivors, he is the only one left. Virtually all of them is descended from him by now. And so every death among us is a death of his own flesh and blood.


    "It weighs heavily on him," said Shai. "And he ought to have more respect from beings so much younger than your Duke."


    "You must forgive us," said William. Were they sisters? It was difficult to remember the others. "We have become so focused on our many enemies gained over ages of battle. We have yet to be aware of your existence. Harlenor cannot know how they ought to treat you when our war with Calisha has blinded us to you.


    "It is an oversight we will not make again."


    Tyrasa nodded. "I will ask no more, then."


    "Are there any injured here I might tend to?" asked William.


    "Some of the gnoll servants may be in need," said Shai.


    "Take me to them," said William.


    And so things began again.


    If William didn''t figure out how to shut all this down now, he could face some serious problems later.

 Chapter 171 - Twenty-Three: Carnival of Souls

    When William first began healing people, he feared he''d botch it. Then he''d enjoyed it. He''d like to see sick people rise and be healthy. Eventually, he''d viewed it as a kind of heroic cause. One man against all the plagues the world could muster.


    Then William started to feel put up, like a man trying to hold a bridge in vain against unending tides. Each person he slew was saved instead of killed, and the villages behind him stayed safe.


    Now William was just sick of it.


    Jehair rarely assisted, usually spending her time scouting and collecting herbs. She was able to teach him a thing or two about the use of medicine. But since he never ran out of healing power, that was of no use. So it became a miserable slog through the mud toward a destination he would never reach. With enemies all around and flies biting.


    He sent those who were filthy to be washed after he healed them, but he hardly had time himself.


    And at last, they entered Blackfear.


    It really lived up to expectations. There was no gradual fading of the trees or natural barrier. One moment they were walking in healthy woodlands, free and unencumbered. Then the next, everyone was black and terrible. The trees twisted, made several more attacks, and had to be fended off. The roots groped at their feet, and it took many prayers from Jehair to drive them off.


    And finally, they emerged.


    Into a far, blackened country beneath a cloudless sky as the wind howled around them. It was a simple void, with swirling vortexes of green the only mark and red. Dark things peered down on them, or William was a fool. And the land, though there was no visible source of light. It stood in perpetual, half-lit illumination. The ground was alive but black and tainted by the feet of evil things. And everywhere they went was the stench of rotting vegetation.


    At a spring that Jehair brought them to, they refreshed themselves. Yet the cold water seemed to claw at their faces. Though it did not hurt the flesh, William felt it pained him more than a thousand fly bites.


    "Well, you''ve become quite the charmer," said Felix.


    "That is purely Elranor working through me, Felix. I deserve only partial credit," said William.


    "Are you alright?" Felix had been off lately, and he wondered why. Perhaps it was a changed nature, William. Felix had always been the one who was more assertive and stronger. In Artarq, they''d had a mutual authority in Vanion, almost equals on the battlefield.


    Now it was the same dynamic, but William was stronger.


    "I admit, I took some personal satisfaction from watching this place fall to bits," said Felix.


    "Well, Antion does treat slaves exceptionally poorly," said William. "It infuriates me to see the country that Duke Vanion has served so faithfully brought so low. It ill befits the Harlenorian race.


    "...And this all seems too much of a detour. At the rate we are going, we may miss the tournament." And assault came on him to his spirit, and looking about, he saw the hills of Blackfear leering about them.


    Low snarls could be heard, but Jehair paid them no mind, looking helpless.


    "What do you care about the tournament, Felix?" asked William. "You''ve never had much interest in swordplay."


    "It''s a good opportunity," said Felix. "You can take the measure of the nobility there and learn the nature of their character." More snarls and William went for his sword, but Jehair caught it.


    "Drink," said Jehair.


    William did so. The water pained the tongue, and an air of hopelessness fell on him. It was crystal clear, but it fought his enjoyment. Getting it down his throat was pain incarnate, and he swallowed as though it was bile. It refreshed, but no joy was given.


    William hated every stone of this place.


    And decided he''d do something about it.


    "Yes, I suppose you are right," said William. "But we''ve got to do what we can to help against the troubles that have been happening. It would be no good if the whole place collapsed on itself while we won the tournament."


    "You overestimate your part in things," said Jehair sadly.


    William said nothing. He remembered well Jehair''s secret councils with King Faras. And with that, her many offhand statements. However much he might want to trust her, he did not.


    She might be his guide for the moment, yet she had some other agenda here. The only question was, what?


    And keep moving, they did.


    But it only got worse as the ground seemed to grip at their feet, and they brought stenches of rotting corpses. They walked and saw festering, stinking marshlands but no people. Only an occasional burnt-out husk, long abandoned, where people had once dwelled.


    "Bah," said Massacre, sniffing as she loped forward.


    "Massacre, you''ve returned. What news?" asked William.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "So, there have been problems with disease in the domain of Neral Dinis?" asked William.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "I see," said William. "Then we''d best hurry there as quick as possible; one Jehair has gotten back. I want to be able to come back from Gel Carn before the fighting starts."


    "We might still join the King''s Road by moving west," said Jehair. "Neral Dinis has no bandits in his domain, for undead stalk it instead, preying on those who live. So we would be safe on it."


    "Are there no militia?" asked William, surprised.


    "No, or very few," said Jehair. "This area saw the use of militia fall by the wayside in favor of farming and mercantile. Neral Dinis exploited it when he was given power. So now they fear him, and warriors tend to be hit first.


    "Though it has always held a penchant for the undead. Sylvar commands them and drives them to prey on the living."


    Eventually, they came to where the earth was rent and pitted. Here it was difficult to move without going through creators. Jehair knew the way, however.


    And then the snarls became roars. Shambling, mottled, decaying corpses came forward from the ground. Their hands might as well have been claws for their decays. Their tongues lolled from broken teeth. The air around them stank with decay, and their eyes were wild when they weren''t rotting.


    Bounding on all fours like dogs, William hardly got his sword out before they rushed at them.


    Jehair spun her scythe in one move, yet three lost their heads. Another strike cleaved two more down, and a third a final one. William knocked one away with his shield and finished it with a low. Felix hewed two while darting between shadows. Jehair slashed down two with hardly changing positions. Then three more as they came at William.


    Massacre breathed her flames at them and roasted them. Yet they ran forward with the flame nonetheless. William cleaved another, then another, bashed down a third, and then was born down. Flaming jaws were over him, and he nearly lost his grip on his sword as they were on him. They bit at his armor, trying to pull it off, and a deadly chill fell over him. But he thrashed, smashing and throwing them off. Rising up in his armor was difficult, even with the blood haze, but he was desperate and mad.


    Hewing wildly, he cleaved down too, and another for good measure. Massacre breathed her flames behind him, setting them afire. And her mighty paws smashed down several more. Felix was slashing from the shadows. But the ghouls were coming mostly at Jehair, and William saw she was yielding ground. No matter how fast her strokes, they were encircling her.


    "Jehair is in need! To her!" cried William.


    And rushing forward, he slashed wildly, cutting limbs and heads as black blood spewed. A feral rage poured from the wounds, or so he thought. Felix came to him, and Massacre smashed through the things. Jehair hewed the enemy down like a graceful assassin, her scythe killing them in waves. But there were always more, and soon the ghouls were going at Massacre too. Slashes were appearing on her.


    Enraged at this, William rushed forward and attacked like a berserker. He was cleaving skulls and limbs and killing them. Yet they did not fear death and accepted it as readily as flesh. Cutting the head from one biting Massacre, he turned to shield and bash another. There he saw Jehair coming toward them. She left behind a trail of bodies, and so much the better.


    It made William feel good. His vision was red, and his enemies were all around him. Yet he felt twisted joy that was not his.


    It was not because they were dead. But the joy that had been denied was released from prison. Yet that made the undead attack with all the greater fury, and soon they formed a knot against the tide.


    The land seemed to grow angry, and their numbers seemed limitless. Finally, William healed Massacre and then defended her with Felix.


    "This is no good," said Jehair, slashing them down all the faster. "We must withdraw to higher ground."And raising a hand, she caused the land to grip the ghouls before cutting her way free of them. All of them followed and fled up a hill. As they did, a mist surrounded them, hiding their enemy. The clouds had come down to cloud their presence and their enemies. They groped forward through the filth.


    Then came the music.


    Joyful, beautiful music resounded, and it lifted their hearts.


    "The music of Isriath is playing throughout the land," said Felix, voice slightly awed. And the mist cleared to reveal much undead falling to death. The joy that washed forth became bitter and sicky-sweet as it resounded.


    "Music or no, we should move from here quickly," said Jehair. "There is more undead coming from there."


    "No, undead do not tire. So we should make a stand," said William. He would not yield the battlefield to the dead unfought.


    And so the undead scales the hills toward them, their eyes glowing beneath the void in hunger. They found them waiting, and William struck.


    "These undead are pathetic," said Felix, cleaving them down. "They outnumber us immensely, yet they can do nothing to us."


    "What are these creatures?" asked William, cleaving down two. The outpouring of joy seemed less bitter with the strokes of his blades. To labor for it seemed now better than accept it.


    "Ghouls," said Jehair, cleaving down many more. "They prowl the lands of Neral Dinis, hunting at will. They were a relic of a time when the Withering King ruled these lands. And they rise now and then, in more savage and vicious form than most."


    William now felt unbearable sadness as he cut down one after another. With each blow, he felt like he was feeling some ancient tree that had lived for ages. The memory of it pained him, but these creatures meant to kill them. So three times, the undead assailed the hill. And three times, they cut them down in droves.


    At last, the undead drew back to gather. Jehair nodded and drew the wood she''d gathered from falling branches from her pack. "Quickly, we must start a fire, put down the firewood we prepared.


    "It should ward them off and slow them for a while. After that, they do not come near towns or venture into places lit by flame."


    And setting about it, they set kindle from dried leaves and burned them. As they did, the flames roared to life, bright and shining. Beneath the darkened sky, they were beautiful and spoke of hope. Enraged by the light, the undead attacked with greater fury, only to be slowed by the light. William struck down one after another, as did they all, as the flames burned ever brighter.


    The spirits of the land swirled around them in hatred and fury, seeking to quench the fire. The ghouls attacked ever swifter and more aggressively, desperately seeking to reach them. Why were they not afraid of Massacre''s flame?


    Perhaps because her flame was not from the land but magic.


    Vicious malice pushed the undead forward as they held their ground. And a spirit of formless, white malice rose skyward above them. A hand was outstretched as the tides came in, and William saw what might have been a face. More came in from behind, but Massacre withdrew to halt them and kept moving to tear them apart. Soon they were driven closer to the light of the fire, and the undead was weakened further.


    No matter how many they slew, there were more.


    Perhaps William could call on Isriath for support?


    But, no, that was not his way.


    "Elranor!" cried William. "Elranor, grant us victory!"


    This seemed to enrage the undead, and they took a more intelligent attack. So that it seemed like they were in a world of walking corpses. The specter took on great form, appearing now humanoid, perhaps elven. Tendrils reached forward, and William began to tire. Felix''s attacks were not as strong or swift, and Jehair was also tired. All of them had suffered minor wounds that he''d healed. Not their feet were right by the fire, and they could no longer maneuver.


    ''Call on us,'' said a voice. ''Call on us before it is too late.''


    William thought about invoking Isriath, Maius, or Chun Xi of calling them down to rescue him as Kiyora had done.


    No.


    Falling to one knee, William smashed a ghoul across the skull. It reeled back, bleeding copiously. But it snatched up a flaming brand; he brought it around. Again, the ghouls reeled back, and many caught flame and were burned away. "Elranor! Elranor, God of Death! Kiyora, Kiyora Goddess of Dreams!"


    "The Flower Maiden," said Jehair, casting aside her scythe and grasping two brands of her own. Felix kept his sword and hewed all the faster.


    Now the ghouls reeled back, for the fire that had been kindled had an unnatural brightness. And the brands burned them back, reeled back, hurled by the light more than any blade or mace. Finally, consumed in fire, their body was burned to ashes.


    Light emanated from those brands, and William saw it reach out pale and bright across the land. And he perceived below many villages and hamlets, walled in where people dwelled in fear. Looking up, they saw the brightness momentarily, and he wondered what they felt. Fear? Hope? Joy?


    It did not seem they''d ever find out.


    The visage now took on a horrific form of a mutilated and terrible corpse. And it was descending toward them. Yet, at the very moment their lives would have been claimed, bells came ringing. Recoiling, she looked up as if in alarm, then returned to them. Yet another bell was rung, and she turned in hatred. Finally, the last bell rang, and she screamed in rage, her voice the howling of a thousand restless dead.


    Thus, the sun was dimly visible for the first time, a faint light at best. And though all the darkness flurried to quench, William sensed it felt fear.


    "What is this?" asked William.


    "Sylvar is," said Jehair. "She has always been here."


    Then, slowly but surely, the sun faded, and the world returned to a dim, unnatural twilight. And the ground hated them all the more for having once allowed the sun to look down on it. But, for his part, William did not care, for the memory of this brief victory gave him hope.


    In time they could gain victory. But, then, they needed only to gain the aid of the faithful in this land.


    "Let''s get the hell out of here," said Felix.


    "I could not agree with you more," said Jehair sadly. "Why do you insist on starting fights with every unholy creature we meet."


    "I am a Paladin," said William. "I am supposed to start fights with evil creatures."


    Felix shrugged. "He has a point."


    And off they went, down the hill and past an abandoned and destroyed farmstead. Beyond, he could see a small, unwalled settlement with hopeless-looking people. They gazed at him with indifference and apathy. William wondered for a moment if they were undead themselves. But they were alive; he could see them breathing.


    He wondered if the light had helped them.


    But, soon enough, a mist of a different kind began to rise up, of red, and their feed was taking them elsewhere. William couldn''t even see his own feet. "What magic is this?"


    "You''ve gotten the attention of a powerful person in Blackfear," said Jehair. "Keep your hands near your swords."


    William considered fighting against it and wondered what Elranor would do. Then, considering that this might be an opportunity for a great deed, he chose to follow. So he strode forward toward it. The others did as well, though Massacre seemed in bad spirits. The wound healing did not remove the injury. And she had a slight scar.


    "Are you alright, Massacre?" asked William.


    "Bah," said Massacre miserably.


    "Yes, I know we''re approaching the enemy," said William. "No one ever achieved greatness by running away from something."


    "What about messengers who bring word of approaching armies," said Jehair. "Or men who retreat to regroup?"


    "The messengers are running toward their destination," said William. "Retreating is a tactical action."


    "Not necessary," said Jehair. "You could have to swallow your pride and face humiliation or death to save the army. There is glory in that."


    William considered that. Glory resulted from personal power and growth, which would be an act of strength. But a greater glory was to master one''s own agenda for the sake of another. "I see your point.


    "But I think people have been running in Blackfear their entire lives. I can''t imagine they''ve been trying to hunt these creatures. Not one person came to our aid, and we were clearly fighting well.


    "If they were willing to engage the undead, they would have there. But, unfortunately, there are no patrols, and some villages have no defenses. I can only assume they stay indoors and hope to be left alone."


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It is a good survival strategy," said Felix.


    "For a person," said William. "It is unbefitting a Harlenorian. And judging from the records, many of these people have been enslaved and done nothing."


    "Quiet now," said Jehair. "The mist is ending."


    They came out of the mist, and William saw the oddest thing he''d ever seen before him.


    It was a majestic carnival with a red, yellow, and violet-colored cloth. There were lights and music in the air, and he could see strange figures dancing. Beautiful women, and also jugglers and dwarves and others. Yet something was wrong here; the more he looked at it, the odder it seemed.


    And he noticed a cloaked figure to one side, face hidden, writing.


    The people here had... empty eyes.


    "Welcome to the Carnival of Souls!" said an enthusiastic voice. And above them, perched on a wire, William saw a radiantly beautiful woman. She had faintly tanned skin with a long mane of blonde hair that flowed around her with bangs over her eyes. Her huge bosom was packed into a white corset that bared her shoulders. She wore a short, dark skirt beneath it and long leggings. A violet cloak surrounded her, tied around her neck by yellow cloth. "A place of pure emotional experience."


    Light flashed through her. She was obscured on the wire before appearing on the ground where the light had ended. Her eyes were closed, showing off her long, dark lashes and violet-painted lips. "Every emotional experience under the sun is available in this place." Her eyes opened, and she smiled as she drew out a deck of cards. "But it is in the cards that you decide which one."


    "What is this carnival?" asked William. "What are you talking about?"


    The woman fanned out the deck before shuffling them with one hand. The act sent many mesmerizing colors into the air. Those around her seemed attuned to the energy as the shuffling continued. Then the light faded, and William saw she had a long mane of golden hair. "Welcome, noble Paladin.


    "The name is Mai Valens."


    "And honor to meet you milady," asked William, at something of a loss. "Why are you dressed like a carnival person."


    "I''m doing the bit," said Mai. "Shh."


    William fell silent.


    "This is a domain of the Sorcerer''s Guild," said Mai. "But beware that it is formed from the darkness of Blackfear.


    "When one slays undead, the life energies of the undead go into the air. Usually, they flow loose and settle somewhere else.


    "Yet because the undead are so common, it tends to flow into neighboring lands. Crops are lost. This place is a realm of experimentation. It draws that energy here and filters it back into Blackfear.


    "You may gain much here. Or lose much. Queen Jazra made your invitation to this place. She asked me to give you a warm welcome.


    "Oh, and if you walk back without a tour, she will take it as a personal insult. She doesn''t like people thinking of her as part of the scenery.


    "The choice is yours."


    "What is the meaning of this gift?" said William.


    "What meaning you gain by it is yours alone," said Mai as the lights died and the cards returned to her hands. "Follow me."


    "You rehearsed that line, didn''t you?" asked William.


    "Of course, I rehearsed it," said May with a smile. "I am an entertainer."


    And they did follow. But before they did, Jehair put a hand on his shoulder. "Listen to me now. Take nothing. Eat nothing, speak to no one in this place.


    "Those who enter this place often return changed and warped. It is connected to the realm of the Caliph, or I''m a fool. Learn by observation, but this is no time to enjoy yourself. View it as academic, just as those men do."


    William nodded and looked again at the women. Many were giving him amorous glances, too many at that. Then he looked away and decided to simply view the people here as props. Looking to his friends, he decided this was his to deal with.


    "Jehair, Felix, Massacre, remain behind and do not enter," said William. "If I am not back, plan a rescue or other matters."


    "Is this wise?" asked Jehair.


    "Queen Jazra is a god, and I have wounded many of her subjects," said William. "She might well be planning to kill me here.


    "I am bound by honor to appease her. If this may do so, I must."


    "Then follow me," said Mai.


    William followed and walked and halted as he saw a familiar blue-skinned girl. She had been at Ascorn and in the company of Cirithil, and now she was here. He almost went up to her, but then she was gone. As he did, he saw places were vast numbers of delicious food. There were piles and piles on it, but it was poisoned. Jehair knew enough to know that, and William agreed. It was taken from the stolen energies of the undead. One that ought to have gone to the people and land.


    It was theft and poison.


    Dancing girls moved before him, swaying hips sensually, and he found himself drawn to them. Among them, he thought he saw a glimpse of the blue girl from before, walking through them with gaze on him. Then he saw their eyes, empty, as though they were without spirit. These women were acting as they had been trained, like dogs. What horrible wrong had been done to them to make them like this?


    Would that there was something he could do for them? Could he take them away from this place? No, that would just drag them from relative safety to terrible danger. Who was this Queen Jazra? Did she employ these women, or were they, slaves? Was she even involved in this?


    The Babarassians had been his enemy.


    Walking ever further onward, William saw a girl of twelve years old dressed as a prostitute. Bile rose in his throat, and he narrowly kept from throwing up. Technically he was only a few years older than her, but...


    That was not the point.


    "Am I not good enough for you?" asked the girl in a perfect rendition of offense. But her eyes were empty like machines.


    "Get out of this place," said William. "Take everyone you know and run. Go anywhere else."


    And he moved on, praying that these people would get away. As he walked, he saw men making notes. Yet he saw no one else enjoying the festivities. "Where is everything?


    "How can this place continue to operate without patrons?"


    "This place," said Mai. They were withered, but looking hard, they seemed fake. "Has many people. They are all around us. You are simply one of the vessels by which they are experiencing it.


    "Some come to this place on other journeys and never know they walk it. Others seek it out and revel in the depravities. The worst of them are consumed. It''s a lot of fun to watch, not so much to be part of." She turned to eye him with a smile. "If you lose.


    "The Carnival of Souls is not always a carnival. Sometimes it can be a world.


    "Think of it as a universe of... wish-fulfillment."


    "What do you think of my solution?" asked William.


    "Eh, treating the whole thing as hostile territory is a good survival technique," said Mai.


    "Other than not going in at all. But low risk means low reward.


    "If you don''t gamble, you never win big. Like in that tent, see those people."


    William did look and saw no one. Just empty machines were running with many spinning wheels and rolling dice. Slowly he began to discern figures; however, ghosts focused totally on the board. "Who are they?"


    "They''re the losers in this tent," said Mai. "They rolled the dice and kept rolling. They gambled their memories, their hearts, and a lot of other things. Every time they lost, they appreciated what they used to have a little less.


    "Now they''re ghosts, gambling the dice because they''ve always done that. They don''t even know why they''re doing it. But it makes for a nice way to set the stakes."


    "Can they not be freed?" asked William, wondering at this side to Mai. But, then again, her Father had become the God of Madness.


    "They don''t even know what that is," said May, winking at him. "You''ll see in there a couple of fallen priests. Some would be saints. And a lot of businessmen came here from off-world.


    "See, they come to Erian to indulge in forbidden pleasures. They do so without fear of consequences where they''re from. We draw them here, and they find out that consequences don''t need to be feared to happen."


    William tried to discern her race. She was not Harlenorian, but she wasn''t Calishan or any other he''d seen. Her skin was fair, her hips wide, her waist slim, and the hair that fell before she had an unnatural spike and luster.


    "Do you know some of them?" asked William.


    May laughed and drew her deck. "I just like playing games. My parents came into this place now and then when someone gets carried away."


    "...Have they no means of salvation," said William. "No advocate?"


    "They sold those for slaves long ago," said Mai. "Anyway, let''s forget these losers. They don''t gamble anything anymore."


    "Does this connect to the experimental crossings in Antion?" asked William.


    "Yeah," said Mai, who seemed to be adapting a persona. "The Sorcerer''s Guild created this realm on behalf of Neral Dinis. It was a way to prevent starvation for the humans here.


    "They use it to experiment on the people who come down here. If you look, there''s a tent where people drink themselves into nothing."


    William saw another empty tent. But as he gazed in longer, he saw spirits gnawing at their limbs with hunger. Several beautiful girls were standing by with empty eyes. They were as vacant as the ghosts ate themselves. When they devoured a limb, they''d go to another, and it would regrow. Their eyes were wild, in agony and looked famished with hunger. Yet the only thing real to them was their food.


    Themselves.


    "...What happens to the people who don''t become this?" asked William.


    Mai leaped into the air, backflipping up to land on some boxes. Then, drawing a baton from her bosom with one long-taloned hand, she pointed it toward a distant tent. As she did, the tent drew near them, then pointed with one gloved hand. William followed it, seeing an immensely fat man grabbing several women.


    They were tied and pulled into a tent, screaming. But their eyes were empty, and then a young, boring-looking individual looked in with a sword. For a moment, William thought he was boring as he walked into the tent. His eyes widened in horror, but they were empty.


    William realized that this was not illegal.


    The man who was going to rape that woman was not doing wrong according to what rules there were. The individual with the sword was neither wrong, no matter what he did. This place was, so far as William could tell, amoral.


    What was odd was that the streets around them were streets. The carnival was gone, and now they stood in a prosperous villa. And the individual he saw was by the door of a tavern. His sword was out, and there was a man''s scream.


    Shortly after that, the individual returned with the girl clinging to his arm.


    "She''s a succubus," guessed William.


    "Not necessarily," said Mai. "She could be the one who orchestrated the event. Perhaps she placed a spell on the man. Or she could simply be little more than a machine of flesh.


    "Perhaps she was afraid because her master wanted her to be afraid. And after he was killed, she became what her new master wanted.


    "Such is the fate of those who indulge in the Carnival of Souls too much. If you don''t pace yourself. You get so consumed by yourself that someone devours you instead as livestock."


    Mai was having the time of her life with this act. She was really enjoying playing the part of the demonic mystic. Or was this part the real her?


    "And what of Babarassia?" asked William. He was rapidly beginning to wonder if anyone in Antion was not insane.


    "A deviant branch," said Mai. "Queen Jazra really straightened them out.


    "Instead of luring others to be destroyed by what they want, they destroy others to take what they want. She instilled a fixation on foreigners who must be brought in for various purposes as new blood.


    "Foreigners are imported and instill their nature on the land. These days Caliph women from the demoration and trains them from the ground up. All to be perfectly obedient soulmates or prostitutes or whatever."


    "I think the Babarassian way is better," said William. If this was so, Jazra had probably saved their souls. "It is at least more honorable."


    Mai laughed as she leaped down. "I kind of think the villages they raid might think differently. But, perhaps we should continue."


    Once again, they walked the Carnival of Souls. William saw many strange and terrible things as he walked. But Mai walked with a spring in her step as if it was nothing. Her family all seemed to be off somehow.


    Now it was completely empty.


    But they came to a last, huge tent, and within it, they opened the door. Entering it, William found many observers scratching notes on a back stand. Yet he finally found other people, and they were many in number. Some William had never heard of every shape and size around them and of every race.


    They were watching.


    But their eyes were empty and transfixed with blank expressions on the stage.


    William wondered what they saw, for the stage seemed to be empty. Then, looking at the figure, he paused. "What are they looking at?"


    "Their dreams," said Mai.


    "What do you see?" asked William.


    Mai thought about it. Then clenching her baton to her chest, she closed her eyes and smiled. "I see myself on a huge luxury ship surrounded by friends and family.


    "And I''d be able to get manicures and have them do my hair for me. I''ve always wanted to do that. Janice told me they have those in the Demoration."


    "So, you dream of being here?" asked William.


    "No," said Mai. "Only an idiot asks for that kind of service in a place like this."


    "Don''t you think you should have an attainable goal?" asked William.


    "Can we please focus on you?" asked Mai, violet eyes looking upset. "What do you see?"


    "Nothing," said William. "Oughtn''t I have seen something? My desires are not yours."


    Mai looked over to the empty stage. "Maybe you don''t want to see anything."


    "No," said William. "I''ve come over here by personal invitation of a God.


    "All I''ve seen so far is blanket temptation. I believe Queen Jazra is owed a better reception than this." Murmurs of approval.


    "Perhaps some sort of combat by champion?" asked Mai.


    "Would that be appropriate?" asked William.


    "No," said Mai. "The carnival theme demands presentation.


    "You see what you take with you.


    "I have something for you."


    And raising a hand, he put it upwards toward the stage. A curtain of fire shot before it, and then William stood in a different form of carnival. One with an earthen floor of different hues and many real people there. Over on the stage was a beautiful, innocent-looking elven woman with long green hair. She had a star tattoo on her brow, and her face was less humanoid, more elfen with strange angles.


    She was slimmer than Jehair and clad only in a loincloth, with her breasts covered by long blonde braids. Her hands were chained, and she was blushing as though in pleasure. Two bloody stumps were coming from her back. William felt disgusted at the sight, even as she enjoyed the pain.


    "Please..." she moaned, and her eyes had a soul in them. Yet it was totally broken. "My wings were shredded, sir. Hear my tale of woe. It is so horrible, dwelling in this place as a slave to the ground."


    "What is this monstrous exhibit?" asked William, moving forward and grasping his sword. Though whether to cut her chains or kill her, he genuinely did not know.


    She moaned and moaned, explaining her story in a thousand different ways. How she was a victim of circumstance, and the crowd drank it in. Some walked away.


    "Where are you going?" asked Mai in confusion. "This is perfectly legal? This woman enjoys her role on display; the audience also enjoys it."


    "I was such a fool," said the woman, almost in a religious trance. "I went too far afield and was enslaved. So now I am a prisoner." And he felt like he was looking not at one woman but a thousand of them. As if this girl was nothing but a cipher for unending people in chains.


    "This is loathsome," said William, looking to the crowd. "This is unworthy of nobility!"


    But they could not hear him, though some faded away. And the horrible thing continued.


    "But it is legal," said Mai, blinking. "These men have every legal right to soak in her agony as they see fit. And she receives comfort from their emotions. Do you think she exists here because she was a good person?


    "Can it be wrong if all have a good time?"


    "She has no choice," said William.


    "No slaves have a choice," said Mai. "This is a legal use for a slave. Or they are not a slave. And is their master not their god?"


    William tried to interpret it on philosophical grounds.


    The idea that this one person had to endure her for moral purposes came to him. Yet that was absurd. Yet, ideologically, he realized Impus had a point. This was legal, she was enjoying it, and he was a sort of guest. He had seen and looked the other way to other horrors in the past that were worth it.


    This might be a performance.


    What if it was? His actions here still had meaning. He saw here an abomination, a creature warped and distorted into a mockery. It had to be stopped, and the greater meaning had no purpose. And if indeed she was genuinely happy here...


    Such happiness was wrong.


    He drew his sword and moved forward toward the chains. Bringing it around with rage, he hewed the chains. The first blow chipped them but was repulsed by tradition. The second cracked a link with the knowledge of many horrors. The third broke it entirely with a final strike. The chain shattered, and he moved to the next and struck it again.


    Three times his sword fell again, and it broke again. But the last two chains resisted him, fighting back with a feral hatred. Finally, they yanked on the woman, and she seemed to change shape. As if they were trying to rip her apart.


    Contempt for the slavers, honorless and in defiance of laws, went through him. And with a final blow, he shattered the chain. Now for the last, the woman thrashed, eyes rolling back in her head as curses came from her mouth. She seemed not completely consumed by sheer hatred, for him, for the chains. Everything. Falling back on the stage, he grabbed the chain and hewed it.


    Yet this time, the chain resisted, and the woman was on him, howling as she went at him with long nails. William struck one last time, shoving her back, and the chains shattered. Again, the woman fell back, howling. "You wrecked my exhibit!


    "You wrecked my exhibit! I had energy and power; I was worshipped!"


    This woman deserved better than what she had been turned into. William laid hands on her, feeling her rage. The torment she endured had been turned against the one who did it. So soon, she became enslaved to her own torment. He did not know who she was or where she came from.


    This was unworthy of her.


    "In the name of Elranor, be cured!" said William.


    His healing power surged into the now maddened woman, stilling her. Screaming skyward, her injuries long ignored appeared and vanished. Then, a moment later, the stumps were healed, and wings burst forth. For a moment, she was veiled in light.


    Cheers came from the crowd.


    William felt only disgust. These specters all around him were slaves, doomed to be an audience in their own lives. They''d seen this and done nothing.


    The woman was gone.


    Suddenly William found himself walking in the light and saw before him a man. He was all gray, with a short beard and white robes. Their eyes met, and William wondered if these had been his actions. Or the actions of the man channeled through him. Then, looking back, he realized he had not been alone in this or anything.


    His actions here had been but the focus. It was not by his choice but the choices of innumerable others. He might have thought he had taken action himself but was taking it with others.


    The woman was slavery.


    They had killed her.


    Looking at his hands, William saw blood which his power of healing had been used. It hadn''t been her fault; she''d been acting according to her nature that she should exist in a form that was... well... evil.


    For she could do no good.


    Only be the host to good things.


    That horrible act, which had possessed her, had been the ultimate example. A creature chained and reveling in its victimhood. Even as it unmanned those who gazed and took pleasure in it. Corrupted and corrupted everyone around here using the chains that others had forged.


    Those chains were breaking even now, even as they were built. And one day, all those chains would be broken. What would happen to her then?


    What would happen to William?


    For he saw on himself chains now and on everyone else of a different kind. He was a noble, a man of illustrious birth, bred for war. What would happen to him if peace was established? What purpose in existence did he have, save to kill?


    If all men became healers as he did, he would cease to be anything special.


    What was the use of a Paladin in a world without evil? What was the use of any heroism or virtue in a perfect world? To a man who lived to fight for the right, wouldn''t heaven be chains of a different kind? To lose all the power they''d had in life, everything that made them what they were.


    If William lost his status as nobility, he was nothing.


    It was a foundation for who he was. And if there were no nobles in the future, what then? It had already begun. Had he killed the monarchy itself by breaking those chains? Had he shattered all in a moment of self-righteous anger?


    No.


    William was who he was.


    Were he born a commoner, would he endure all as he had now in a different way? Even if all the cosmos were redeemed, there would be new creations. New frontiers conjured from the minds of the gods. And on that battleground, new races and forms of good would come forth and, with them, new evils.


    "There will always be Paladins fighting against the wicked," said William. "And there always will be." And he reached forward toward the man. And at his feet was now the woman.


    Just as she lay at the feet of many, and by her own will, she rose as many others reached out.


    Their hands were touching. Yet invisible barriers stretched between them, a screen of power. As though they were the words of some conceived book, indulged by a tolerant audience. Yet the story was made not by pen but by other worlds.


    When it faded, the carnival was gone. William stood on that same road as if he''d never left. He felt tired but satisfied that he had done his duty. "What happened?"


    "You stopped only for a moment," said Jehair.


    And Isriath appeared before him with a ringing of bells.


    "Why this, Mai?" asked William.


    "I wanted to see how you would react," said Mai. "You worked within the bounds of the law to achieve good. Your reaction to the evil that cannot be punished is to store up retribution. Make preparations to destroy them at a more convenient hour.


    "I wanted to see how you would react if you faced an evil deed that you could not wait for. But which was perfectly legal."


    "What do you think of my solution?" asked William, smiling faintly.


    "I liked it," said Mai.


    "Have you tested anyone else this way?" asked William.


    Mai paused. "Now that you mention it, Tanith saw the same exhibit."


    "How did she react?" asked William.


    "She killed the audience and the woman and left in disgust," said Jehair. "She felt they were all beyond redemption. The audience for being mastered by someone completely helpless. And the woman for enjoying being a slave.


    "So, what are you bound by, William Gabriel? And could you give them up if you need to?"


    "Was that even real?" asked William.


    "Likely, the answer is yes and no," said Felix.


    "So, uh, are you actually going to use the gaming table?" asked Mai. "Because we have a limited time, and I brought cards."


    "No," said William.


    "Oh well," said Mai. "We''ll call your payment the undead you''ll have to kill on your way out as well as in."


    "What undead?" asked William.


    Mai shuffled the cards in her deck before drawing five in a moment and raising them before her face. "The cards tell me that Sylvar is furious at your earlier defiance.


    "You''re going to be heavily attacked on the road as soon as you leave this Carnival." She swayed her hip, and the cards flew from her hand to spin around her in a whirlwind. "I could call them off if you''d like.


    "All you need to do is ask."


    "I think I''ll take my chances, milady," said William.


    "You might not want to be so quick to refuse," said Mai. "A working relationship with the Sorcerer''s Guild can help House Gabriel."


    "Perhaps," said William. "But I will accept no favors from one who meets with me by proxy."


    "Fine by me," said Mai. "But don''t say I didn''t warn you. I had a really good time tonight." And she leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Hope you live.


    "Oh, and uh... when you learn about the traitor, remember I could have told who they were."


    Traitor? So, Jehair, then. Best not to say much now; he had to learn the nature of her treachery without alerting her.


    Then spinning around, her cloak wrapped around her form and vanished. And so they continued their journey with better spirits than ever. And birds began to sing and brought to mind the symbolism of what William saw.


    And then the undead were upon them.

 Chapter 172 - Twenty-Four: Reprisal

    The singing was a mistake.


    No sooner was it done than William''s throat wrenched. Out of the hills came many undead, snarling in clear hatred. Jehair sprang up a hill with them behind, and at the top, they saw the sight of a town of stone and wood. A large hedge of thick thorns surrounded it, and the ground was greener. The buildings were better maintained, with strong roofs.


    But no one looked up their way.


    Above, the birds chirped unceasingly as the undead climbed the hill. Finally, out came William''s sword, and the birds chirped all the louder. Then blood was spilled.


    Claws went at William''s eyes, but he bashed and cut. Jehair hewed limb and neck as Felix moved swiftly. Body after body fell to earth while Massacre breathed her flame. Skeletons began to scale up, and some had bows. These launched arrows toward Massacre.


    William leaped between them and caught them on his shield as he hewed men down. Three were plunged in.


    "Massacre," said William. "Move out and get the archers!"


    And Massacre did, moving with immense speed away and then circling around. William caught two arrows for Jehair. Then he cleaved down two ghouls, and his sword broke the shield of a skeleton. The splinters clashed against his armor, and the bones broke under the weight, an arm coming off. Then the skeleton hit him with an axe. It rang off his helm, and he reeled back, slashing wildly.


    Falling against the tree, he shielded himself from many claws as he tried to ward them off. Lashing out, his sword bit into one with a stab, and another cut them back. Inching his way up the wall, he hacked and slashed, praying to Elranor that Felix and Jehair were alive.


    Yet he could see nothing past his enemies.


    "Elranor, give me strength," said William, slashing as his heart fluttered. "Elranor, guide my sword." His blade cleaved down two as bodies piled up to his knees. "Elranor, grant me victory."


    Soon enough, he was up to his thighs in bodies and thought it might be his fate to be entombed beneath corpses. But Felix appeared in his shadows, cloak slashed and cut all over him. He fought like a madman now, hewing back the undead, and William kicked to try and free himself from the press. Then, getting free, he charged, attacked, and saw Jehair was untouched, spinning back.


    Cleaving down one after another, they saw Massacre striking in the distance. It was a bit lighter now than it had been. Yet even knowing that drew more rage, the undead came all the faster. With each one they struck down, the bodies piled up so that the hatred became almost palpable. No joy came from these corpses as their ghosts or whatever drove them departed.


    Only grim determination and hatred.


    "For Elranor!" cried a voice. "For the Heir of Kings!"


    And over the hill came a halfling in shining armor on wolfback. With him was another, younger, with a spear on a white wolf. They stabbed with lances that struck down much undead. Massacre came before them, and soon they had broken up the undead. Then, throwing themselves from wolfback, they drew swords. The older fought with Jehair, while the younger fought with Felix. Both wore helmets that obscured their faces, but they fought well. The older was striking alongside Jehair and nearly as good. And with them came Jaina, of all people, tossing flames about to burn the undead.


    William, not to be outdone, raised his sword and attacked. The undead was cringing, but he''d give them more than a stand. "Felix, Massacre, Jehair, to me! Into battle!"


    And then he charged, hewing down all he could. Massacre went with him and Felix close behind. The others had no choice but to follow, and so they drove the undead before them. Down the hill they pushed them, the press of bodies turned against them. The creatures were ill-prepared for the onslaught.


    So that soon they were driven in. Jehair and her companion were the finest blades on the field, leaving a path of carnage behind them. Pleasure filled William, and even satisfaction as he cut and cut and cut. Soon the undead was losing cohesion, having no idea how to deal with an onslaught. Broken and shattered, they fled.


    The undead, these mindless and utterly self-destructive beasts had fled from battle.


    And all saw it, even in the village far below.


    "My thanks to you, gentlemen," said William. "We were hard pressed before your aid. And you as well, Jaina."


    "Well met indeed," said the older, taking off his helm. "I am Sir Frederick; with me is my squire, Ronald. I don''t believe we met in the Khasmir Campaign."


    "Pleased to meet you," said Ronald, offering a hand. He had red hair and freckles and looked to be a nice sort of person. William did not take this for granted.


    William took it. Halflings were more familiar than most nobility. "Do you walk here often?"


    "More of late," said Frederick. "With the bandits driven off or pacified, we''ve come here. Our focus is mostly on protecting travelers who get in over their heads. You see, it doesn''t count if you help a battle already in progress." Halfling standards grizzled Frederick with a noble face.


    "Admiral?" asked William.


    "The more undead you kill, the more of a target you become, and the more your enemies take an interest," said Jaina. "I''ve never seen someone deliberately seeking a fight, though. But then again, I haven''t been here long.


    "Sir Frederick was heading out, and I thought I''d help."


    "Well, every bit of help is useful," said William. And he looked up to the tree and the hedges. Was it only his imagination, or were these hedges growing greener? The tree looking a bit healthier. There was even some green grass. "What business brings you here, milady?"


    "I was sent out to observe the situation here," said Jaina, stretching in a motion that sent her bosom into motion. "Mother is concerned Neral Dinis might be making more than defensive moves. This place has gotten badly out of hand.


    "This kind of attack was unheard of in a skirmish."


    "How do you fight undead?" asked William.


    "Well, the usual way," said Ronald before falling silent.


    "Go ahead," said William.


    "The usual way," said Ronald. "Is for a distraction to draw off their troops. Then you kill the leaders, and it throws the undead into chaos. The other way is to bypass them or play other undead against them.


    "Undead win wars of attrition."


    "Why?" asked William.


    "They have no fear of death," said Jaina. "They only withdraw when they''re ordered to. You can kill a thousand of them and not disorient them. Kill a hundred people, and everyone becomes miserable.


    "Once an undead infestation becomes serious, full-scale extermination is backbreaking. It''s usually easier to kill the leaders and let the locals hunt them." She paused. "Are you planning to make a repeat of this?


    "They''ll escalate if you keep prodding them. This was only a skirmish.


    "Don''t even think about trying to do this again. You won''t get lucky forever."


    William nodded. "I understand."


    "On a brighter note," said Frederick. "Adrian Wrynncurth told me to look for you.


    "He wishes to end this feud as much as anyone. I believe you''ll receive a favorable reception when you meet."


    "I fear my friend, Tanith, was half-mad when she reached Gel Carn," said William. "She has since been disciplined and saved many from demons."


    "That is well," said Frederick. "But I do not think she will be welcome in Gel Carn again.""I assure you, she will not care," said William. "She had some very harsh condemnations of the defense of the realm.


    "You know Jehair, of course?"


    "We have met before," said Frederick. "We meet again under less hostile circumstances." Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I was simply carrying out my responsibilities as a mercenary," said Jehair. "And a druid."


    Frederick''s eyes narrowed. "You knew what you were doing was wrong, or you would not have bothered to take them by such roads."


    "With respect, Sir Frederick, my companions and I have been taking many indirect roads. So we might heal others of the plague," said William. Or was he talking about someone else? "I seek danger and the opportunity to do good deeds and make a name for myself."


    "You shall have both. This land has plenty," said Frederick. "The Tournament of Kings is being delayed a bit in light of the crisis, so you should have time to meander. Shipment problems and also a consideration for the time getting here.


    "For now, I will take you to the nearest village.


    "Ghouls are savage and easily killed, but they will soon return in greater numbers."


    And they began to walk toward the village.


    "How have they bolstered their ranks?" asked William.


    "Blackfear, like Antion, is a nexus," said Jaina. "The dead rise here, but people here burn their dead. See you over there. "William saw a group of people burning bodies in a field strewn with ashes. There were also fields of wheat beyond, where men were tending to them now in preparation for harvest. "But the undead come here from many different realms. When they are killed in great numbers, the only result is that even more come to attack.


    "Several attempts have been made to wholly eradicate them.


    "All ended in failure. You make initial gains, but over time they just overwhelm you.


    "Andoa did the best job of it and eventually handed it over to Neral Dinis. Neral Dinis historically is one of the more reasonable vampires.


    "And there have been no outright invasions since. So he was a good choice up until now."


    "A vampire is never a good choice," said Jehair.


    "To be fair," said William. "Most of his actions have been defensive."


    "You don''t know his actions," said Jehair. "I saw them.


    "And it was the chief reason I took up the career I did. Why else should I wander the lands, bitter and alone, working with thieves and cutthroats." Then she halted. "We''re being pursued again. They''re coming from the hills."


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    Frederick looked back in surprise. "Again? You''ve certainly enraged someone, William. I''d get out of this place while you can."


    "Do we fight?" asked Felix, looking over the path. "There are other hills to die on."


    Jehair pointed.


    William followed and saw a field of beautiful flowers. They were stretching into the distance beneath the morning sun. There were red and white and had fresh dew on them.


    He knew that anyone in them would be devoured. "Wait, those will eat us alive."


    "They might if you were alone," said Jehair. "But the Flower Maiden has permitted us to pass; we can cross them at will. Our enemy will have to go far around or walk across.


    "Now come, and I shall make a spell."


    And kneeling down, William looked to the path and the hilly country. The undead was crawling from the hills like many insects, and an eerie pale light surrounded them. As if power was pushing them forward. He guessed their numbers were now in the hundreds, perhaps far more. Instead of rage, he sensed eagerness and hunger as if anticipating a meal.


    Jaina raised a hand and summoned a flame as the workers ignored them. Not one mentions or helps, or attempts to move. The sphere was hurled forward and exploded amid the swarms; many scattered on fire. More came, and another sphere of fire landed among them, but in vain.


    No matter how many fireballs Jaina threw, they kept coming. And some were now on fire. A sense of joy and hope came to William from those that died. But hope for what?


    "Do these creatures have emotions?" asked William, shifting to a stance.


    "I read," said Ronald. "That sometimes they reflect the emotions of their master. Someone is looking forward to killing us. You have any old enemies here?"


    "Neral Dinis, I suppose," said William as Jehair began to emanate light. "Although Sylvar may have manifested to send these after me. She seemed irritated at our survival." The light was getting brighter as the undead came in ever greater numbers. He guessed near a thousand, and the flowers beckoned, opening.


    "What are you doing?" asked Felix.


    "Summoning the energies of life into myself and projecting them," said Jehair. "Think of it as a kind of... divine light. The undead are drawn to it." She stood up as they neared.


    "And we lead them across the flowers," guessed William.


    Together they sprinted across the flowers.


    As they did, William remembered when they had tried to devour them utterly. Kiyora had nearly been eaten, and the smell had enchanted them. Now they were racing as far as they could, yet it seemed they really were being allowed through. Behind them, William saw the undead near at hand and gaining.


    Then they crossed the threshold and screams ensued. William whirled around and saw the undead being grabbed. The vines and tendrils grabbed them and pulled them down all at once. Each individual had to fight against it, and none helped the other. Soon they were torn to shreds. Soon enough, they were all pulled down into the flowers and gone from sight.


    "Hardly a sporting battle, but it will make things safer for a time," said Frederick.


    "I don''t care as long as we''re alive," said Jaina. More undead were rushing in to be devoured, yet no emotion came from this. It was as though the Flower Maiden was devouring all the life energy.


    "Slaying undead allows their energies to return to the land," said Jehair. "In so doing, it increases the health of the land. The more we slay, the more life returns, and the harder it will be for them to come here.


    "The land shall be restored a bit by this. Well done, all of you."


    "Yes, but the dark energies of withering just pour in here anyway," said Jaina. "So it is a constant battle against decay itself. And Neral Dinis would never allow things to continue to that point. Once you start really presenting a threat, the undead all gets serious. Then they start using strategies and such, and things become a nightmare."


    "What spirits do you wield power from?" asked William.


    "I''ve got certain natural powers of my own," said Jaina. "A kinship with the elements, if you will."


    The undead ceased to flow into the flowers, and some halted and then were recalled. Frederick nodded to Ronald. "...These, at least, shall harm no one else. Come, let''s head to the village of Trias. It is just north of the Border Hills and stands within sight of Neral Dinis'' castle.


    "Are you beginning to regret coming this way?"


    The wolves of Ronald and Frederick loped a little to the side. They seemed to have stayed out of the main fighting.


    "We''ve slain many creatures that will never harm anyone again and done much good," said William. "Of course, I don''t regret it."


    "I''m pleased to hear as much," said Jaina. "This is a one-day bouquet of flowers I''d rather not get."


    Laughter, real, genuine laughter.


    But Trias did not let them in. All the doors were shut and barred against them, and they had to move on. No one said anything, and William made a mental note of it. He''d remember this welcome next time. The worst part was that it seemed like such a nice town, and the people looked well-fed.


    "They don''t want to be associated with undead slayers," said Jaina. "They''re probably adopting a policy of living and letting live."


    "We need supplies," said Felix. "Are there any merchants here?"


    "Well," said Jaina. "There is Octavian De Chevlon.


    "He owns an outpost that usually outfits adventurers who won''t be allowed here. Their prices are high, though; can it wait."


    "You never wait to resupply, Jaina," said William. "Ever.


    "If you run out of supplies in the wilderness, you''re dead. Or at least I will be utterly miserable for several days. And you''ll be taken advantage of by anyone you buy from."


    "As opposed to being taken advantage of now?" asked Jaina.


    "At least we can decide to move on if his task is too important," said William.


    They went to the nearby outpost.


    It turned out to be an old tower with crenellations and a wooden storehouse built next to it. And it turned out that, for once, they weren''t cheated in any way. All of the prices were reasonable, and nothing went wrong.


    However, as they finished, a door opened. Into sight came a woman with strawberry blonde hair in a black, concealing robe. She had leather gloves on her hands, and her hair fell long over her outfit. On her back was a huge axe.


    "I''m telling you, we need a buyer, Rubia," said a nondescript man.


    "Baroness Saphra is fully aware you need a buyer," said Rubia, shifting her hair. "She is simply determined not to be it. The same for House Hawkthorne, the origins of these slaves are questionable. And with the attention drawn by Ascorn, it would be potentially disastrous."


    "Neral Dinis needs bodies, doesn''t he?" asked the man.


    "This is true, Octavian," said Rubia. "But the Baroness De Chevlon is in charge of slaves. Only slaves, mind you. She controls which we buy and which we don''t. She has determined that this scheme of yours is not her problem."


    "She''s my daughter," said Octavian. "Kith and kin."


    "You forfeited your authority over here when you passed over the position as Baron," said Rubia. "You laid down your authority over Blackfear as useless territory. So now she has that authority.


    "She might not be able to project power beyond the castle itself. However, she does not have to buy your product. The source is questionable. It could backfire, and she gains little by feeding Neral Dinis."


    "Does family mean nothing to her?" asked Octavian. "It''s my neck on the line.


    "We are family."


    "Saphra De Chevlon''s love for family is exactly the same as yours," said Rubia. "Nonexistent. You''ve never taken her into any of your counsels or provided her opportunities to advance. Not once has she eaten with you or been consulted on the House she should be ruling.


    "Often, you have dismissed her in private.


    "Now you ask that you commit political suicide for you.


    "You and your brothers can pay for your own blunders. Find a different buyer."


    "But we rise or fall together in this," said Octavian.


    "No, we don''t," said Rubia. "Raynald De Chevlon is the most well-known member of our House, and you three have made him an outcast. Baroness De Chevlon is the leader, and you have shut her out of leadership.


    "Neral Dinis is our seneschal, but you have seen him and our best subordinates imprisoned. And you three have no particular accomplishments of note. At least besides turning in your own Father."


    "He was a serial killer," said Octavian.


    "We do not care what he was," said Rubia. "You three brothers do cooperate, but you have no hierarchy. Nor do you treat our allies as friends or enemies as a nemesis.


    "You sold your birthright for political convenience, to distance yourself from your heritage. And not content to leave your rule in the hands of lesser men, you actively hamstrung our efforts to run it. You have no respect for House De Chevlon, do not follow our ways, and treat your lineage as ink on a page.


    "You''re only invoking House De Chevlon now because it has become a problem.


    "Raynald wants nothing to do with this House. When Sir Gabriel made peace overtures, you shut them down outright. Have you any conception of how powerful an alliance you sneered at? And for what?


    "Your finances are ruined, your reputation soon to be mud.


    "No, you have no right to invoke House De Chevlon.


    "House De Chevlon does not exist until Baroness House De Chevlon says it exists."


    "We''re already in debt to Lilas," said Octavian. "He''s taking over everything. He owns the rights to fields out there. They grow medical plants to deal with the plague.


    "Pretty soon, he''ll be selling the plants everyone needs.


    "If we ask for his contacts, he''ll own us. So you''ll owe him too."


    "Your information is antiquated," said Rubia. "Lilas has fled the city, and Rius is dead. The merchants and notable figures are all fighting for who will be appointed to the position.


    "Given the nature of Harlenorian politics, he will probably soon be dead. And the healing spree by the Paladin Order will soon make his investment a waste."


    "Excuse me," said William coming forward. "My name is William Gabriel.


    "I do not have any ill will toward House De Chevlon. I am just trying to get to Gel Carn. My actions against your brothers were never a vendetta."


    Octavian halted. "Well, that is a relief.


    "Anything I can do."


    "What is this about a slaving operation?" asked William.


    Octavian sighed. "I run a business moving arms from the realm of Lord Tarsus to other domains. But when a horde of carnivorous plants started eating miners, the mines shut down. So I didn''t have anything to sell.


    "I had to take a loan from Lamech.


    "Not someone you want to cross. He might send... Aklus after me." He shuddered, and William wondered who this Aklus could be to terrify him so. "Lilas said he wanted me to sell the slaves he brought in. None of them have been brought in yet, but I''ve been trying to get a contract."


    "Who is Aklus?" asked William.


    Octavian shuddered. "One of Lamech''s enforcers. He came here from Walesan, a colony of the nation of Bretus in Kadan.


    "He is usually left in charge of things when Lamech has to go out on business. The man is pure, brutality, and violent. You don''t want to mess with him."


    "Where is he now?" asked William.


    "He usually operates on the coast of Antion," said Octavian. "He works as a go-between for Sorn as well. His main job is smuggling, moving slaves in from the islands of power, that sort of thing.


    "Everyone is terrified of him except Garrick Estov."


    "And why isn''t he?" asked William.


    "Garrick Estov fears nothing," said Octavian. "And he''s bound for the Tournament of Kings now. So if you go there, you''ll have your work cut out for beating him.


    "But that has nothing to do with Aklus. I hope he never gets control of Lamech''s operation. Arkan Lantan at least keeps people in power who are focused on making money. This never would have happened in the days of the Fighters Guild.


    "The two-hour massacre ruined everything. Alchives was rising fast in the ranks of the Fighter''s Guild. Faster than Raynald had, and that was too much.


    "Next thing I hear, Raynald has killed the Guildmaster, his second in command, and the people funding it. The entire organization is absorbed into the Thieves Guild."


    "Raynald has a vengeful streak," said William. "It is an undeniable trait of his, and what you describe is a matter of public knowledge. However, he did cripple the Fighter''s Guilds. It may have been because of their connection to Neral Dinis.


    "But there is no point in denying it happened."


    "You don''t take much after your mentor," said Octavian.


    "I deeply respect and admire Raynald," said William. "That does not make us alike. On the contrary, we have many differing qualities."


    "On a separate note, you''ll be happy to know Lamech has been sent to prison," said Jaina.


    "He has?" asked Octavian, horror in his tone.


    "Yes, Janice, myself, and Grace took him there after William defeated him in battle," said Jaina. "I believe his organization''s days are numbered. So long as you run down the clock, you should be perfectly safe."


    "Well, that''s a relief for me," said Octavian. "I owed him money.


    "It could be very bad for many people if there''s a power struggle over who will take his place. Gang wars are nasty, and Arkan was brought in to end them. A church messenger, Joffrey, came down here with many armed men. He said he was looking into some business ventures. I''m beginning to think that many people Lamech wants to be stored aren''t in debt.


    "But he''ll throw me off a tall building if I don''t get them sold. At least, that''s if he gets out of prison."


    "So long as you get out of Blackfear," said Jaina. "You can just wait until the problem resolves itself. I''ll write a letter and get you to shelter in Magicora if you''d like." She drew out a broach from her cloak. "Take this broach to my master, Anton.


    "He will know it is from me.


    "But, in exchange, Lady Delenay must be respected henceforth."


    "Of course," said Octavian.


    Other than that, things went very well.


    William was just pleased not to be scorned and shunned a third time. At least until they got to the next village and found it less fortified than Trias. And far emptier.


    "...So this town was abandoned too," said Jehair sadly. "I''d hope it would stand a while longer."


    "We''ve passed the wards. They won''t come past there," said Jaina. "They''re still intact.


    "I remember setting these, and they hold still. Though, at one time, many people lived here. I grew up here." She paused and walked inside the building. A moment later, she came out. "All the valuables are gone.


    "This wasn''t done by the undead.


    "It was people. Slavers likely."


    "Why would there be no struggle?" asked William. "Surely, someone must have fought."


    But no one had.


    Not one broken window or damaged furniture; everything was as is. The shrine to Elranor was alone and ill-tended. Weeds were growing out from between the flagstones around it. From the looks of things, they had not even put up a struggle. As if some dark spell was at work. How could an entire people be taken so easily?


    "People in these parts," said Frederick. "Largely, just keep their heads down. The undead don''t come into the towns. And sending an army or raids out here would be suicide."


    "They don''t have anything all that valuable. Nothing worth the effort of raiding," said Ronald.


    "No trade routes run through here. So what could be worth a raid?"


    "People can be very valuable alive or dead," said Jaina. "Especially people in isolated places who could disappear without anyone knowing. All you''d need is the cooperation of someone untouchable. Someone who by his very nature must mediate between divine powers."


    "Cirithil," realized William. "The High Priest."


    "...As you said, William," said Jehair. "Cowardly and a poor survival strategy.


    "We will miss the people of Trias soon. We shall miss their songs, memories, and what they could have told us."


    "I''ll look for tracks," said Frederick. "We may know which way the blackhearts. Ronald and I shall pursue them if we find them and see if we might rescue them. If they are dead, then we shall avenge them."


    "Bring the word of this to King Faras when you have the chance," said Jehair. "It may be that his people have witnesses that could be brought forth."


    They searched about and did find tracks and raced off at once.


    So the company now sat in the old inn, drinking from ale left in barrels. William realized it was not old at all. Which meant Frederick might yet overtake them.


    "My guess," said Jaina. "Is that the High Priest never came down here at all? Men who bear his seal are under the protection of all gods. His messengers could be sent across the border with a large force, enough for a raid.


    "Once they arrived, they could simply take who they wanted." She drank. "But this is all speculation. We''d need witnesses and more."


    "I have some evidence," said William. "But I''m not going to tell anyone without a good reason. What about Elranor? His authority is being used to enslave his subjects.


    "That is a violation of unprecedented scale. Perhaps he could be used as a witness."


    "Call down a god as a witness?" laughed Jaina. "That would be nice."


    "Doable," said William. "Gods take direct form all the time.


    "His word would be unquestionable if Elranor could appear and prove himself."


    "Well, I think perhaps we should leave that judgment to him," said Jehair in amusement.


    "What do we do now?" asked William finally.


    "We could go to the castle of Neral Dinis?" asked Felix.


    "It was merely an observation," said William, leaning back. "Maius, I don''t suppose you could make a sudden and convenient appearance here."


    Maius did appear, in a flash, spinning around and leaning forward to give him a very nice view. But he was too miserable to appreciate. He drank instead.


    "Nice way of calling me down, handsome," said Maius. "So, what can I do for you?"


    "The people who dwell in and around Blackfear have shattered their civilization. They have long labored to rebuild it," said William. "They have little hope, and as they grow, I fear their neighbors may move against them.


    "I ask that you watch over them and see that the civilizations continue to grow and prosper."


    Maius shifted. "Um... okay, I was hoping you''d sleep with me. Not that you''d ask me to look after one of history''s most cheerless and gloomy lands."


    "You are the Goddess of Revelry," said William. "Where do you think you are most needed, if not in the most cheerless places?"


    Maius nodded and stood up. "Hmm. Usually, I only show up at drunken parties and formal dinners for corrupt officials.


    "I could make some stops down here. Why the long face?"


    William told her what had happened since their last encounter.


    Maius seemed a bit disturbed. "Selling your own people into slavery isn''t normal out here?"


    "It''s not supposed to be normal," said William. "And if you asked any ordinary person, they''d say it''s not."


    "Well, that''s news to me," said Maius. "I thought that was just how you people did things. Themious doesn''t have that tradition, so I didn''t want to mess with local customs."


    "I don''t think any land has that tradition," said Jaina, drinking as well.


    "I''ll see what I can do," said Maius, smiling. "This actually sounds like fun."


    And she vanished in a flash.


    "...That was a waste of a favor," said Felix.


    "Felix, what exactly do you think I should have done?" asked William.


    "Well, I suppose there is little use for the Goddess of Revelry. So not much," said Felix.


    "Do you have a grudge against her or something?" asked Jaina.


    "Everyone in Calisha has one against her," said Felix. "Much of Baltoth''s early career was dedicated to rooting out her drunken and savage rights. Things like this happened all the time in the old days. She''d mesmerize entire villages and drag them halfway across a continent in revelry.


    "Then she''d lose interest, and they''d have to walk back. They couldn''t do their jobs.


    "Revelry is not good pleasure. It deadens the delights of intellect; it destroys the virtues of those who drink it. It renders your emotions unstable and distances you from who you are. Worst of all, it causes good men to lose control of their actions and drives them to commit unthinkable acts.


    "Men were crucified in the old days for crimes they did not mean to commit, simply because they were drunk. Everyone knew it was not their fault, but the law had to be maintained. So the logical solution would be to outlaw all alcohol.


    "We drink coffee instead. Ruscow has many coffee houses, which are local meeting spaces."


    "I''ll drink to that," said Jaina.


    And she downed an entire tankard and refilled it. It was the first of many, and William enjoyed it despite himself. In the morning, they would set out at a breakneck pace beneath a gray sky. For now, they enjoyed themselves.

 Chapter 173 - Twenty-Five: Global Village

    The journey took them along a desolate road with leaning fences and forsaken fields. Many cobblestones were missing from it. The underbrush was growing up at the edges. Even so, life seemed to be returning to this place, the plants becoming greener and less barren. The skies seemed a little less bleak.


    It was clear that the plants Lilas had set up could grow well here. However, you could see them growing out of place, as though dark powers were passing them by. Felix became increasingly irritated as they walked past them. Jaina seemed concerned as well. Jaina kept checking her book as she did, frowning cutely.


    "What is it?" asked William.


    "These are all medicinal herbs," noted Jehair. "Lilas must have known what he was selling."


    "Not necessarily," said William.


    "Let''s hope so," said Jaina. "Jehair tells me these plants are ideal for treating Baras'' Bane."


    "Don''t be too quick to make that accusation," said William. "Father has always taught me that by the time you face an enemy, it is best if they are already defeated."


    "Perhaps so," said Jehair. "It is said that there is a sword somewhere around here, driven into the earth for a worthy elven hand. The Singing Sword. None has drawn it because the elves are driven away."


    They had many discussions as they walked. William soon realized that Jaina''s education in Magicora had been extensive. Though her knowledge of history was less than his, she knew much of herbs and remedies. It also seemed she hoped to become a Sorcerer''s guild member someday.


    Here and there, they would find green patches that became increasingly common. William could only assume that there were other adventurers here. Ones'' who had been spurred into action.


    If so, they did not find any of them.


    But they were attacked several more times by undead over the next few days and often would have made stands. The nights were filled with the howling of wolves. William would often look out and see them running beyond the light. Sometimes he thought he saw a blonde-haired woman clad in a dark robe just beyond the firelight.


    Yet usually, they had to fight. So they looked for defensive hills to rest on. They left behind them circles of bodies around their campfire.


    Often they would be woken to find the enemy at hand, and soon they were tired. Many villages they walked through were abandoned. Others were defensive and hardly spoke to them save to barter supplies. The people were obviously terrified and hiding from something, carrying weapons. There was evidence that the high priest''s minions had been at once. There were carriage tracks and armored footprints.


    William only prayed that some other power would rescue them, for it was obvious he was too late. The villages that were inhabited had many people with dead eyes and unnerve. Jaina took notes during this and usually stayed out of the fighting.


    Then, quite abruptly, William came to an outpost by a crossroads.


    It was a circle of stone with a house in the center. There were hundreds of bodies by it, most of them undead. But twelve of them were human and clad in armor, and they had not begun to decay. Six others were priests, clad in red robes, and were killed by a sword. And among them was the corpse of Joffrey, hewn by many strikes, everyone except the face. Several carriages with dead drivers were a little ways off. They held cages behind the oxen as if to take people. But the cages had been broken open and turned over.


    However, the oxen had been released and were grazing to one side unharmed.


    "Footprints show many people fled away from these cages," said Jehair. "They took the weapons from the guards and their supplies and ran."


    "Who could have killed this many men?" asked Jaina.


    "We seem to have found him," said Felix.


    Sitting on a rock, drinking, was a bald, thuggish-looking man with bleary eyes who looked drunk. His sword was bloodstained, and he seemed to be trying to wipe it off with a handkerchief. All while drinking from the skin of wine. The red liquid slipped down their lips, and his eyes were bleary. How could he drink here with the stench of death and undead?


    "Who are you?" asked William.


    "Ham Hawkthorne," said the man.


    "And who are these men?" asked William. "Why have you killed them?"


    "Slavers," said Ham, motioning in the opposite direction from a nearby village. This one looked decently populated, and the people were working. They seemed to be branding oxen. "They said they wanted to get into the village over there and that I was a fool. So I hacked them to pieces.


    "Then I sold the oxen for wine. I think."


    "Some of these men were priests," said William.


    "Don''t care," said Ham, drinking again. "Some church. Never do anything for me."


    "How much wine have you consumed?" asked Jehair. "And why are you doing it here?"


    "Yes," said Ham. "Third skin today. After I killed them, I think. Not sure how long I''ve been here. I''m working through it while waiting for Varsus and Reginald."


    This was a waste of time.


    "Felix," said William. "Check their corpses. We''ll see if we can get them a more or less decent burial."


    "The ghouls ought to have devoured them long ago," said Jehair.


    "Have you considered that Varsus and Reginald might have decided not to wait? These crossroads are infested by the undead?" asked Jaina.


    "Reginald said to stay here and wait," said Ham.


    "Reginald De Chevlon wouldn''t lie," conceded William, who had met him. He was a good friend of Varsus.


    "Flies are not touching these bodies," said Jehair. "Nature abhors them."


    William looked and saw as much. The priest and their company had no birds around them, and their bodies were untouched. There wasn''t even the stink of death about them as was expected. And it was challenging to think of them as people now that they were here.


    Who was this person?


    Joffrey?


    Some magic was at work here.


    "Don''t tell me what to do!" said Ham before throwing an empty wineskin at his face.


    It slammed against William''s helmet, and he reminded himself this could be a murder. Ham had cut these men down for the pettiest of reasons. As a mere impulse. "Why did you kill these men?"


    "They cut me off in traffic," said Ham. "I need another drink." Then he abruptly broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. "Why did you die... Why did you die..."


    And he lay down and fell asleep.


    William looked up. Then to the bodies lying there. Felix took out several documents from Joffrey''s purse and some personal effects. Why didn''t William care? He felt as if this were insignificant. As if Ham has broken a toy or something.


    It was wrong and sick.


    "Come, let''s leave drunkards'' business to drunkards," said Felix.


    "We can''t just leave them for vultured," said William. A hiss of hatred filled his mind while Ham began to snore.


    "The ghouls despoil corpses," said Jehair. "Usually, one either raises a cairn for heroes. Or, more likely, simply piles the dead and burns them. Though that would take some doing."


    "Let me," said Jaina.


    And raising her staff, she sent forward a bolt of flame. First to Joffrey, then the others so that they were soon burning. Yet the fire seemed to recoil and fizzle, and Jaina flinched, her spell halting. "Come on, Mol''Tan, it''s just flesh.


    "You can burn this."


    Mol''Tan, however, was ill-content to listen. And Jaina had to work at it for some time, and the bodies simply refused to burn. Eventually, as if forced by reality, the priests began to shrivel up like dried fruit. It was hard to think of them as people, but eventually, it was done.


    "Some dark magic is at work here," said Jehair. "Dehumanizing a person should take effort. However, being forced to do so on sight is nearly impossible.


    "What do you remember of Joffrey?"


    "He''s part of House Atravain," said Jaina. "An uh... distant cousin, I think. Several times removed."


    "Distant," William halted. "Why don''t you care? Surely you must have spoken to him."


    "I didn''t," said Jaina. "I was hardly aware he even existed.


    "I''ve met him before, quite frequently. Even before becoming a Bishop, I can''t remember what he was like. It''s like his face is blurred in my mind. A man like him ought to have wanted to use his family connections. So why did it never come up?"


    "I don''t think you ever met the real Joffrey," said Jehair. "Something evil is at work here. And I don''t want to stay around any longer. It''s unnatural."


    As they walked on, Ham woke up and began to sing.


    William saw a blade driven into the hill above the village. It seemed to send forth a song that came with the wind. It was faint, but as they walked, they drew nearer. There were clouds in the sky, and it was brighter than ever. It was a particularly dim and miserable day by most standards.


    Something had to be done to ensure the momentum continued.


    "What is that sword up there?" asked William.


    "Do not go near it," said Jehair. "That is the Singing Sword. It rests on the hill, over a great barrow. Within that barrow, many unholy creatures are trapped. Once, they often came out to feast on the blood of the living.


    "But Arengeth and I managed to seal it using the sword. The Sun Spirit sends its rays down upon it and powers the spell. And at night, the moon provides enough light to maintain it. Yet it is less effective, and we must be indoors near flames if we want to avoid a fight."


    "You journeyed with Gail Arengeth?" asked Felix.


    "Yes, her and Pandora the Sorceress, though I am hardly alone there," said Jehair. "He has had many companions. There was a time when he often came into Antion. But since the days of Andoa II, his main focus has been on Escor. That last time he came here was in the events leading up to the battle of Desora.


    "I lived here once before I began journeying as an adventurer.


    "It was long ago that I met Gail Arengeth when he was on an errand from elsewhere. I was still before the age of bearing, and he told many stories of adventures and things. And I decided I wanted to be an adventurer.


    "That is why I fled south, down Savior''s Run, then spent some time as a weaver in Antion. Then, when the criminal gangs became bad, I went south along the King''s highway and came here. From there, I lived here and learned to hunt the undead under the locals.


    "I became very good at it and spent a long time doing it before eventually traveling into the realm of the Wood Elves. That was where I was taught the ways of a druid. But that was before the Escorian Wars when Neral Dinis was not Lord of that place.


    "Neral Dinis was chosen to take his place. Apparently, he has a contact in Gel Carn."


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    "Who?" asked William.


    "Fayn Benarus, I believe," said Jehair. "Or Hawkthorne if you prefer the less interesting name.


    "She is the niece of the Steward of Gel Carn by his brother''s marriage with a De Chevlon woman. Quite intelligent and not at all a good person.


    "Now come, fearless leader. I have a friend here if he has not moved or died."


    "Probably both," muttered Felix.


    Jehair actually laughed at that. It was nice to hear her laugh.


    "Actually," said Felix. "While you were talking to Ham, I checked their packs. I found this among the priests."


    William took a letter from him and opened it. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "A letter from Cirithil," said William. "To Joffrey.


    "You are to begin gathering my flock in as large numbers as possible. Remember to preach primarily to those areas far from help. Remember that our ministry is to be given to people without other hope.


    "Focus your efforts on people without real focus, with no particular place in the world or will to live. Remember, no word can get out. I cannot guarantee complete safety. You should be reminded that my seal is proof against the gods. Nagos expects perfect results.


    "I intend to slaughter a few sheep to ensure success here. And some hungry beggars are expecting a meal. Refrain from disappointing them.


    "-Cirithil."


    "Cirithil paints a much more menacing figure in these letters than he did before," said Jehair. "I wonder if he was not playing a role for Maius and the others rather than the other way around."


    "I sincerely doubt it," said William. "He would not have made that mistake if he were truly so menacing. While he might be competent in some things, I expect he is little but a frontman for the real powers.


    "He will be easily defeated once they are, and we should pay him no more mind."


    "Could this Nagos be funding this?" asked Jaina.


    "No," said William quickly. "Nagos is King of a distant island and would have no hold over the church."


    "We''ll have to find out what the operation was and how he was involved," said Jaina. "I guess something to do with slavery."


    Jehair nodded.


    She led them to an inn with a symbol of a rising sun on it. Over them was the Singing Sword, and they entered. Within, William saw the innkeeper watching as a barmaid served drinks. Elven, like a lot of others.


    "Lady Jehair, you are here?" said a voice, and William saw a forty-year-old, burly man with a long beard polishing a glance. "Thank Elranor, much has shifted since you dwelled in these lands."


    "Yes, for the present," said Jehair coming forward to the counter with William and Felix. Drinks were provided. "How have things gone, Fenus?"


    "Poorly, I''m afraid," said Fenus. "Things have gotten a great deal worse since you lived here. For a time, things were peaceful under Neral Dinis. But the undead began to grow in number, and many of our fighting men left for the wars.


    "Few returned, for they found new lands and lords in Artarq. Those of us that remain are protected by the Singing Sword. But I fear that they may soon be overwhelmed by the darkness."


    William looked upward and saw Arkan Lantan over by a table, not looking up. Yet he had several backup men standing by.


    William nodded and motioned to Felix. Then both of them moved over, and William sat across from him. Arkan was eating a humble meal quite happily. He saw a redheaded woman with a huge sword waiting on a table a little way off. Her hair was long, held out of her face by a blue headband, and she had green eyes. Her outfit was of red leather and left little to the imagination. It was actually of Themousian make; he''d seen similar armor in Mother''s trophies in Carn Gable. Was that Spirtana armor?


    Across from her on the table was that same blue-skinned creature from the Carnival of Souls. They tensed as William neared Arkan, a bodyguard, he guessed. He wondered who she was and remembered Anborn''s penchant for befriending such women.


    So, the blue-skinned girl had been working for the Thieves Guild. She had been an agent of some kind, observing events. Likely trying to get into William''s company for information from the start. From there, she''d moved to Cirithil and now had reported to Arkan.


    What was the connection to House Atravain? Or was it the Sorcerer''s Guild that she was working for? The latter seemed more likely; they would want someone to keep an eye on William''s progress. And Isriath had surely told them something of what had happened out of courtesy.


    Arkan knew what had been happening. He was well informed.


    No matter. The mystery could be solved later.


    "Arkan, how nice to see you alive and unhindered," said William. He saw several men nearby. The alternate William suggested he was very fine. But William dismissed this as absurd.


    "My apologies for disappointing you, Sir Gabriel," said Arkan. "Though I will admit, being at cross purposes has faced some serious problems. Some business has taken me out here to Blackfear, and we''ve journeyed for some time."


    "Might I inquire what it is?" asked William.


    "It is very little to it," said Arkan. "I came to meet with an associate of mine, and he is to meet me here. Jehair, you look at radiant as ever."


    "Flattery will get you nowhere, Arkan," said Jehair, smiling.


    "No, I suppose it will not," said Arkan.


    William looked to Felix, who put a hand on Jehair''s shoulder. "I must ask you to step back, Jehair. Now."


    Arkan motioned to his guards with a nod and they moved off.


    "Shall I bring some ale for you?" said an elven woman.


    "No, thank you," said William. "And make sure no one sits by us. In this company, they could be endangered by what they hear. So tell Jaina Atravain over there to remain there as a witness near the door. Now, Arkan Lantan, your business."


    Arkan sighed. "I can see I''m not going to become the loveable rogue of your group."


    "There is no such thing," said William.


    "Well, part of my business was simply to survey the land itself," said Arkan. "Blackfear has become increasingly less populated over the decades. People depart or are forced to leave or even disappear. And recently, large numbers of satyr tribes have been appearing and threatening everyone. Especially around the Black Mountain."


    "Has the High Priest been made aware of this?" asked William. "Isn''t this his job?"


    "Several messengers were sent out," said Arkan. "I fear he views his immunity to the ordinary rules more as a means to profit. Have you noticed the empty villages along the way? It seems that someone has been letting him do all that."


    "Was it you?" asked William.


    "I don''t deal in the slave trade," said Arkan. "Imogen hates it, and it''s a good way to lose her favor. That was why I took control of Montoya in the first place.


    "Although I confess, my coming meeting might involve it. The usual sort of meeting in these circumstances. I''m to meet some very important people in Castle Blackfear. Some of them you met at the party."


    The elf put down the cups. "Here you are, good masters."


    "I met Cirithil," said William. "He was disappointing."


    Was he supposed to become friends with this scoundrel? He''d rather see him at the noose.


    Arkan laughed. "Yes, few men turn more people from the church than the people who own the church. I''m afraid the clergy does behave like that, with one or two exceptions. It had cut into the faith of the populace a great deal."


    "...Have you considered not showing up?" asked William. Over in the corner, Jaina was writing. Jehair looked very, very worried. How did Jaina and her sisters fit into this?


    Was William supposed to be a rogue?


    If Arkan could support the names taken from Lamech, it could be a killing blow to the criminals. Arkan would live, and his subordinates all die. Then hopefully, he''d be assassinated by someone else.


    "What do you mean?" asked Arkan.


    "You might be arrested there," said William. The blue-skinned observer had been there for Cirithil being thrown out of the brothel. But she hadn''t seen the fight with Lamech, or Dunmoore taking him into custody. "That''s a friendly warning.


    "The situation to the north has escalated. Cirithil has made such a mockery of the church that it has led to a full-scale religious conflict. You''re likely to be used as a scapegoat at this rate. Jaina over there is acting as an observer; once she reports back, who can foresee the result."


    "Are you threatening me?" asked Arkan, voice cold.


    At that moment, the door was thrown open before William could even think of a reply. It hit the wall and bounced off with a crash. Into the room marched Lamech as lightning flashed behind him. He was clad in his black armor again and had his sword. Seeing him, he marched up to the table and stopped as if to be recognized.


    "Hello, William," said Lamech. And he sounded furious.


    "Lamech..." said William, hatred in his tone as his sword was out in a moment. The alternate William took Lamech off-guard by smiling and talking to him like an old friend. But how would that happen? Such an individual would never have defeated him. Not fairly, though he might have tricked him into hitting his own shield after running away. "By what devilry did you get out of prison, you murdering bastard?"


    Several of the guards covertly brought their hands near their swords. The blue-skinned girl turned her chair as though to watch the fight.


    "You were the warlock, William," said Lamech, calming somewhat as he saw Arkan. "When Princess Ansara locked me up, she sent me to hunt undead here!" Had the alternate William suggested he do that?


    Disgraceful.


    William raised his sword in rage. Lamech did the same, and they halted for a long moment. After that, things went very still, and Arkan touched Lamech''s shoulder. "Not now, gentlemen.


    "Obviously, the situation has changed. We shall alter our actions and go from thieves to adventurers."


    "Were you involved in the Healer''s Guild?" asked William.


    "Yes and no," said Arkan. "I was involved in founding the Healer''s Guild, but I was not the primary architect. Instead, I was a middleman for agents of Zigilus. I allowed the operation to focus on demon priests in one place. It grew a great deal and was protected from outside harm by the influence of Zigilus, a city to the far north.


    "This led to it overextending into the heartlands and other places. But, Zigilus was annihilated by the Legions of Dinis. With the loss of Zigilus, they also lost their main source of protection. I''m surprised the plantation owners didn''t destroy them long ago. But I gather they hated treating their slaves with dignity more than they liked being alive.


    "Stupidity is the one sin that is always punished eventually."


    "And this Demoration, what is it?" asked William.


    "A sort of... interdimensional group of merchants. They like to meddle in other people''s affairs," said Arkan. "Similar to the Sorcerer''s Guild in some ways. However, they operate in different locations.


    "Though that is a gross oversimplification. It is more a cluster of related interests than a single organization. They can be disruptive, but they''ll back off if you kill enough of their agents.


    "We were contemplating how best to do it." The blue-skinned girl rolled her eyes while Arkan gave a wary half-glance. "This is Vow, and Red Safara, freelance mercenaries.


    "Don''t mind them. They are simply looking after my safety."


    "I had thought you''d lose a great deal of money in these events," noted William, doubting it.


    "Actually, I''ve long since pulled my investments out of the Healer''s Guild," said Arkan. "Tavish moving their operations into the countryside closed my accounts. And they never wanted him because he operated on House Kern''s behalf. They are Gavin''s proxies in Antion and operate on his guidelines.


    "Most of their money has been going to House Suvvest in Sorn, who will likely cut off funding soon. With their losses here and war imminent, Sorn will spend a lot of money invading Dinis. And that will close the trade routes through the Islands of Power."


    "Who runs them?" asked William.


    "Well, originally, it was a man named Dakan, but he died in the siege of Zigilus," said Arkan. "Killed by a woman named Narcissa, who has refounded a new settlement in Kalthak. She is the one who has been declared their new leader.


    "Although I''m not even sure she knows she runs it. I suspect they have simply given her lip service and not made any contact."


    "Not entirely true," said Lamech. "A large segment of citizens from Zigilus were relocated to Antion from there. I''ve kept track of them. I believe they were supposed to take over things. But they had no leader to run their operations, so they mostly got absorbed into the populace.


    "A lot of them became prostitutes and very profitable ones."


    "I know something about how Zigildrazia operates," said William. "I''ve studied history. She usually grows a city to a level of power and depravity to lower the morality of the surrounding area. From there, she lets it be destroyed. Then moves her more competent people to another realm under a leader she raises.


    "One of her favorites, usually a blonde woman with a ponytail. It''s a sort of fixation for her. Though there is often a spare, usually with short hair."


    "I was there," said Jehair, voice grave. "I saw the siege of Zigilus, and I saw Narcissa and her sister. They matched that description.


    "Now, they refused to leave with the other Zigildrazians and instead fought. But they were on the verge of being destroyed. However, King Abdul Sahshir convinced the Legion to let them leave peacefully.


    "And from there, Abdul convinced Narcissa and her sister to resettle in Kalthak. So now they have a kind of hybrid status without any of the depravity. And it is working.


    "So it seems that Sahshir has done great damage."


    "Whatever the case, the Church of Coinfurth took the operation over. They expanded it and decreased efficiency a great deal," said Arkan. "Nobody could pay their jacked-up prices in Sorn, so they moved them all out here.


    "They''ve lost a small fortune here, I''ll wager. However, Sen Kaba regained it by taking advantage of the mine shutdowns. He''ll be at the meeting."


    "Is there a single faction in the world who is not involved in this fiasco?" asked William.


    "Directly," said Arkan. "Quite possibly. But Antion stands at a nexus of trade between east and west.


    "That was why Anoa IV moved the capital to it from Gel Carn. In retrospect, that might have put us too close to Seathorius and Calisha and too far from Escor."


    "You''re a student of history as well?" noted William, impressed despite himself.


    "Much like your own family, Sir Gabriel, I have a passion for it," said Arkan. "Though I think far more of the Islands of Power than other places."


    "So, what is your connection with Lamech?" asked William.


    "Ah, yes, I forgot my introductions," said Arkan. "This is Lamech, my adopted son and one of my most valuable agents. However, his business is not usually focused on this world. I gather you''ve already met.


    "In any case, it''s time my men and I went into the hero business. This place certainly needs one, and I need a safe place to hole up. So we''ll begin planning to engage the undead at once and secure this area. "With a proper setup, we might defeat the undead moderately. Then remind everyone why we are loveable rogues."


    "Is heroism a tradition among thieves, now?" asked William, unable to keep the scorn from his tone.


    "What is that supposed to mean? Don''t judge us, you high and mighty, stuck up-" began Vow before Arkan silenced her with a look.


    "It is in thieves of Imogen," said Arkan. "The difference between a vicious criminal and a loveable rogue is heroics. A rogue who picks pockets and slits throats while giving to charity is a monster.


    "A rogue who picks pockets and slits throats while having adventures is a hero. When a Thieves Guild becomes too decadent, redemption is battling someone worse. The alternative is finishing off the worst aspects of the organization by proxy.


    "Perhaps Lord Dunmoore and I could relive the old times. Let''s get to work."


    William nodded, then looked to Lamech. "Lamech, a word?"


    "Yes?" asked Lamech.


    They went to one side, and William ensured no one was listening. "When Tavish moves up to nobility, you''ll inherit his operations, yes?"


    "You don''t even know, do you?" asked Lamech.


    How had Arkan intimidated him? Looking over to where the blonde man was chatting with Jehair, he saw Lamech look that way too. Then, thinking about it, William looked at him and remembered his meeting with Arraxia. "...You''re an anchor of Melchious, like me."


    "Yes," said Lamech. "It makes us brothers, after a fashion."


    "No, it doesn''t," said William.


    Lamech was afraid of Arkan.


    Why?


    He''d never been afraid of anyone. Obviously, there was some good reason for it. Otherwise, they''d be fighting now.


    "Well then, we have a problem," said William.


    "I''m afraid so," said Lamech. "You can''t face me physically, and I can''t afford to lose my operations here."


    "Perhaps an arrangement could be reached?" asked William. No sense in pointing out he''d thrashed Lamech.


    "Such an arrangement will lead to one of our deaths," said Lamech.


    William thought about it. "Might I make a suggestion?"


    "By all means," said Lamech.


    "Limit your targets to completely irredeemable anchors," said William. "There are better ways to make friends than going after Paladins. As your stay in prison demonstrates. The next one will be longer or very, very short."


    "Why did you defend those Paladins?" asked Lamech.


    "You misunderstand me," said William. "I do not care which ''side'' wins. Kicking in doors and heroic speeches are a waste of energy on people who won''t listen."


    "I feel the same way," said Lamech deadpan. "That galls me."


    "Perhaps you should research Anoa the Bright," said William. "I think you''d like his histories."


    "I just might," said Lamech. "His reputation does proceed him."


    William put together as best a plan as he could. It started with helping Arkan.

 Chapter 174 - Twenty-Six: War Preparations

    Jehair was speaking to Ferus at the bar, leaning forward over a drink while undoing one braid. Red Safara and Vow moved across to the opposite side. He was enjoying the sense of merriment that had come about. Several more patrons had entered the well-lit tavern, and Ferus was busier than usual. It was also nice to have some questions answered for once. But, even so, the man looked at him through sagging eyes. Jaina moved past to talk to Arkan, and William confirmed Lamech was not making any moves.


    This seemed to please Lamech, to be feared. Judging from the looks the other Thieves gave him, they were very nervous. Red Safara was the exception, and she gazed at Lamech with a kind of hunger that reminded William of a predator. A snake, perhaps, though he wasn''t sure why.


    Something about her eyes.


    Lamech met her gaze, and his yellow eyes flared with a furious rage that did not seem personal but more general. William wondered if they were rivals or merely disliked one another. Perhaps Red had expected to take Lamech''s place.


    Either way, he still needed to get answers there. So William looked back. "Master Ferus, if I might. You mentioned Reg Hawkthorne.


    "What part did he have in all this?"


    "We know little of what he discussed with Lord Dinis," said Ferus. "But we know that the Baroness Saphra De Chevlon was present. She often advises Neral Dinis, though she ought to be his master.


    "House De Chevlon fragmented after the two-hour massacre in Antion."


    "I see," said William. "This Saphra, what do you know of her?" The name brought up familiar feelings like Arraxia. He couldn''t quite pinpoint why it was so familiar. But her action against Octavian seemed like something Arraxia would do. Ruin a man''s business without even speaking to him personally, despite blood connections?


    "Well, she is high-handed and arrogant, at least at first glance," said Fenus. "But she always seems to be putting on a front of sorts. So often, she seems to have two minds.


    "I met her once; she stayed in this very inn. I should not want to be the man who took her for a fool."


    "And what did she say?" asked William.


    Fenus smiled. "She was a good conversationalist.


    "She seemed quite frustrated by something. However, she hid the fact behind a haughty demeanor. It seemed there had been some disagreement between her and her relatives."


    "Did it involve Reg?" asked William.


    "Now that you mention it, she seemed to think some agreement with him was bad. ''They all seek to undercut my glory'' is what she said," said Fenus. That was a pure Arraxia style of line.


    "Though I''m not sure she meant herself. She seems to regard herself as two people. One that is her, and one that is her but greater."


    "I see," said William. "Well, in any case, perhaps we can help with this Barrow."


    Red looked up, and William realized she must have heard that. She seemed somewhat impressed while Vow was taking notes. Her gaze turned to Arkan as though considering things. William realized they were spies but decided it did not matter. He was a Paladin; he was supposed to engage in such heroism.


    It went without saying.


    "That would be a poor decision indeed," said Fenus. "Many fighting men have tried to enter that Barrow, and all have failed. It is the abode of a terrible elf witch who died long ago in the battles against King Anoa the Bright.


    "The howls of her screams can be heard as night, and the wraiths of her victims patrol all around. Even Neral Dinis has never been able to seize the burrow, though there were several attempts.


    "Sylvar is not to be fought by inexperienced adventurers."


    "I went into those Barrows once and survived," said Red, speaking for the first time. "Though I was the only one of my party. You''d be devoured long before you got past the first room. Even if you did, it''s a maze in there, filled with traps and the corpses of people like you.


    "You''d be lucky to get out with whatever you plundered. The only way you can travel through the underground is with a guide. And most of those work for Sylvar or Neral Dinis. The ones that don''t are priority targets.


    "Sylvar would consume you long before I got the chance.


    "Not worth the money or the risk."


    William had no idea what that last part meant. And he didn''t want to know; that expression was still on her face.


    "He is right, William," said Jehair. "She is a terrible foe, not one to be easily crossed. Her voice can tear men to pieces. And I fear she may have gone wholly mad with years." She paused. "Still, we will have to fight eventually.


    "If left unchecked, she will become more aggressive and attack this place. We know that the undead hates fire; individually, they are not powerful. And with their hunger for blood, we might provoke them into a battle on our terms.


    "If done enough times, we could weaken her power with proper strategy. That would decrease the danger and give time for a better strategy."


    "What you say may be true," said Fenus. "But I''m not sure there are many with the courage to do so. We survive by staying out of trouble."


    "It has come to you anyway. Seek those who would help and tell them of our plan," said William. "Arkan has already agreed to take time off from his plans to assist with his men. I have Jehair and Felix, both experienced veterans, and myself. And Massacre breathes flame and comes from a realm of enchantment.


    "We are already strong now. But, with more people, people who know this land and the ways of survival, we would be stronger still."


    "I shall do as you wish," said Fenus. "There are those who I think may help you. I will send some of my staff to find them."


    Jehair nodded. "Then join Arkan and me at the table to discuss the strategy once you''ve sent for them."


    So Jehair was trying to rally resistance against Sylvar?


    This was new. But why? Was this merely trying to help? It seemed like an action that could have serious consequences. Among them, weakening the undead and providing Arkan with political capital. Being a heroic undead slayer. He rallied the peaceful villagers, which would go a long way in helping his reputation.


    Which was why he was doing it.


    Soon enough, the tavern was full, and many were looking at Arkan and Jehair. However, William got a few respectful glances. Most had knives, axes, and plow hooks as if they''d come in from the fields. Perhaps they had; William had seen the harvests also looked poor here.


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    "So, you''ve been recruiting then," said Arkan. "You have excellent taste, Jehair."


    "Indeed I do," said Jehair. "Now, perhaps we should discuss strategy. Ferus, you''ve dwelled here your entire life. What would you recommend?"


    "Well, for a start, once an undead has a hold of you, it is usually over," said Fenus. "Though armor helps.


    "They naturally numb the flesh and feed on you that way before their teeth go at you. What are the ones with a physical form, of course? We have found a good way to keep them back with a long fork.


    "Once they are held in place, another man smashes their skull. Though they usually die if one hits them enough. It is as if the dead flesh remembers being alive and dies again when injured badly enough."


    "We noticed that much," said Arkan. "My company had a near miss and lost three men. Anything else?"


    "There are also other creatures," said Fenus. "Some undead lack a physical form and must possess something to fill the nothingness. Even without a physical form, however, they can drain the life of someone or cause their heart to stop.


    "They vary in power.


    "However, all undead hate fire. A single torch can slow them, and several will keep them back entirely, save in large numbers. They rarely attack during the day, and places with many people and light are usually immune. You will have to start more fires if they are determined and numerous enough.


    "I have drawn up several wards here and in several places. Others were put up by Pandora the Sorceress and Jehair. However, the wards are useless without people within, and they may be overrun by a hard enough attack.


    "Indeed, that is why the village within sight of this place was abandoned," said Ferus. "Too many people had departed, and no defense could be made. Now, even if enough people returned, the wards would be useless.


    "We lack the ritual."


    "All useful," said Arkan. "But our priority is to thin their numbers. We want to destroy as many undead as possible without engaging their main force."


    "They are attracted to large numbers of people if they have no light," said Ferus. "We keep wood stockpiles on the road so men can use them for defense."


    "Then let us lure them into a trap," said Jehair. "We can linger within a defensible area and wait for them to come to us. Then, if we keep firebrands ready to light on a moment, they will gather in great numbers. Then, as they come against us, we can light the fires and torches.


    "Such a thing may throw them into disarray."


    "It must be a defensible location," said Ferus. "Somewhere we can hold out long, even without fire. And how will we even detect them in the dark? Undead can move quietly; this is professional speaking."


    "The outpost?" asked Jehair. "We have a wall around there, and you could raise a torch for all to see for miles. With proper work, we could make a very defensible place."


    "Would that not intimidate them?" asked Ferus. William didn''t know what he was talking about.


    "A lone torch is a threat to a single undead," said Jehair. "But when seen by many of them, it would be little more than an invitation. Proof that there is an enemy to devour. And they hate the living for possessing what they have been stripped of."


    "Or they might be interested in bed and breakfast," said William.


    That got a general laugh, and this pleased William. Everyone had been so utterly miserable before now; it was nice to have a better mood. Still, he seemed to have fallen into the role of sidekick. But, then again, when had he left it?


    "...Do we have any bells?" asked Lamech, having neared them.


    "Bells, what for?" asked Vow. "Is that some sort of shout-out to literature?"


    "If we were to set up some bells that dangled on ropes over chokepoints. The undead would have to walk past them," said William, catching on. "The more they ring, the more come in. So if we put them up in several places, we''d be able to know fairly well.


    "That is a good idea, Lamech."


    As he saw it, Vow looked at him in surprise, as did several others.


    "It''s a fine start," said Arkan, holding a spear now. "What about the ones'' that have no flesh?"


    "I think I can help in that regard," said William. "I will play the music of Elranor and Isriath to defend the place. Jehair may spark such wards as she can. Could you create them so they only bar passage at a particular point?"


    "Or we could just smash them and not waste time with the runes," said Red Safara. "I can handle a few skeletons in the open."


    "What about a few hundred?" asked Lamech. "While skeletal archers fire arrows over the walls. All without regard to their own casualties? While the screams of banshees and wraiths resound and cause agony to your ears. And ghouls secretly burrow up from the ground, seeking your flesh?


    "I think you might regret such bravado then. I actually made a profit going into that tomb."


    "I can handle them, you yellow-eyed coward," said Red Safara. "I''ve faced all of those things. Are you afraid?"


    "I am beyond fear," said Lamech. "And I prefer to take every advantage possible before engaging an enemy. You would do well to do the same."


    There was a bang against the wall.


    Swords were drawn, and everyone went tense. Then, there was another bang. William hurried to the door, and Lamech was with him. Opening it, he stepped out into the darkening sky with a hand on his sword.


    Only to see Massacre rolling back and forth on the path, banging against the wall. William sighed in relief as Lamech howled with laughter, sounding very evil. William quickly stepped away from him and kept him in sight. He had an odd way of becoming disarming very suddenly.


    "Please don''t do that Massacre," said William. "You alarmed everyone."


    The dragon head made a noise and snuffed flame. She sounded dismissive.


    William went back into the tavern and saw them. "Just my chimera friend, Massacre."


    No sighs of relief, oddly enough.


    "You''re friends with a chimera?" asked Safara in disgust. "Some member of the House of Acoria you are."


    "I am of House Gabriel, milady," said William. "Massacre has been invaluable to my house and saved my life more than once. As I have hers.


    "And she will be of invaluable service here. Her flames alone can solve half our problems, and I have seen her tear dozens of demons in half easily."


    "Gentlemen," said Arkan. "This conversation serves no purpose.


    "Massacre is welcome to assist us so long as she brings no harm to our company. For now, our task is one of battle. Jehair, if you would answer young Gabriel''s earlier question."


    "I could create wards to herd the undead into a particular place," said Jehair. "We''ll need to have them at a chokepoint to survive. Unfortunately, provoking a direct confrontation with the undead rarely ends well. They care nothing for their own casualties and are relentless."


    "Do you really think music will stop the creatures that dwell in this place?" asked Vow.


    "Music has power, especially when focused through divine means," said Jehair. "And the Singing Sword can help."


    "Undead are relentless," said Red. "At best, you''ll slow them down. But, if we earn their anger, they will eventually overcome the wards. You''d be better off welding a sword; they care nothing for their casualties."


    "Then that is also their weakness," said William with a shrug. "If they have no regard for their casualties, they will make mistakes; someone who values his men will not. So they will be wasteful."


    "In any case, I think it best if we begin preparations for this plan at once," said Arkan. "I''ll send some men to the village and see what can be made. Red, I want you and Vow to make a complete map of that outpost and the village. Mark all possible entryways and tell if you think they should and can be blocked or guarded.


    "We''ll want an escape route, if possible, and a main chokepoint. One that can utilize our advantages while denying the enemy theirs. Narrow, with cover from arrows.


    "I think we can make it reasonably defensible before dark." S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''ll do my best," said Red, standing up. "Let''s go, Vow."


    "I should not make this attempt more than once, Arkan," said Jehair thoughtfully. "Others have tried such efforts before. And the undead usually comes in greater numbers each night. A perverse will drive them, and once roused, it will begin to get creative."


    "You underestimate me," said Arkan with a laugh. "What a fine Twilight of entertainment this has turned out to be."


    But he had no idea why, and it seemed irrelevant. And since he already had to balance several deities, he was still curious.


    "Is that a play on words or..." William halted. Why did he care?


    "Twilight?" asked Arkan. "The name of an ancient Elven Goddess? I gather Benarus had such records. She wielded the Goldenwood Harp."


    "It might be more fun without music," noted Lamech.


    "What happened to take every possible advantage, Lamech?" asked William with a laugh.


    "Holy power is not what I had in mind," said Lamech. He sounded miserable. "I''m really not supposed to be working with you like this. There are guidelines to this kind of thing; it''ll look like redemption."


    Everyone stared at William. The Thieves were all looking gobsmacked.


    "I don''t care as long as we get rid of the undead," said Vow.


    Lamech grunted in agreement in contempt. It was the sort of statement he seemed to approve of. This was the start of an odd campaign.

 Chapter 175 - Twenty-Seven: The War

    So it was that Arkan and Jehair set up a position in the outpost they''d seen before. A barricade was put in place of the gate, and the openings shored up. Red did a complete examination of the place, and many places had to be patched. Nevertheless, it was well made and sturdy, and Arkan rapidly arranged for the villages to take positions on the wall. The village also saw the walls rebuilt and the setting up of new torches. Everyone was now scurrying this way and that making preparations.


    Jaina took time to set runes of her own alongside Jehair. You could see them painting on walls with a runic script. Jaina''s was done with blue paint with a faint sparkling look. Jehair''s, on the other hand, was made from natural paint. The kind that Rusara had taught him to make from berries and other things.


    Bows were taken out and strung, spears readied, and jerkins donned. Shields were dusted off and practiced clumsily. Those who did not have spears grabbed axes or clubs. Arkan knew how to use a spear quite well, though no shield was with him. Lamech and Jehair were posted at the gate, and Massacre and Felix kept up at the village to protect it.


    As the bells and barricades were erected, William played music to purify the location. There wasn''t a lot of evil energy here, but he dispersed it. Lamech, however, took an interest. He kept looking at William from afar as if wrestling with some inner doubt. Red was holding her two-handed sword as if in practice, checking her footwork. Vow, meanwhile, seemed to be talking with Felix, who viewed her with unusual interest.


    "I don''t mean to be overly familiar," said Lamech. "But have you ever met someone with six fingers on their right hand?"


    "Not again," said Red.


    "I don''t usually pay attention to hands," said William. "Why do you ask?"


    "A six-fingered man murdered my Father," said Lamech.


    "How many people have you murdered?" asked William. It didn''t seem to him justifiable for Lamech to seek revenge in these circumstances.


    "It''s more an excuse than a goal," said Lamech. "I just look into the matter when I have spare time. It helped me focus when I was rising up the ranks."


    "You''ve been working with a Haldrenian agent. One who is part of the largest criminal organization in Harlenor," said William. "And your opponent has a unique quality that can be verified at once.


    "Why are you asking me a question you already know the answer to? If you were looking, you would have found him."


    "...Just making conversation," said Lamech.


    Making conversation?


    William looked up into his glowing yellow eyes, astonished and dazed. Why exactly was Lamech seeking out his company? They had virtually nothing in common, and by all accounts, he had gotten on fine with Tavish.


    "Aren''t you supposed to be making speeches about his evil or something?" asked Red. "And aren''t you, Lamech, supposed to be mocking him as the self-righteous twit he is?"


    "Would it help the situation?" asked William, surprised she was asking.


    "And how exactly is mocking him going to help my plans when they require me to survive the night with his help?" asked Lamech.


    "You guys are oddballs in your profession, aren''t you?" asked Vow.


    "I could throw you off a building right now," said Lamech with a smile. "You are not nearly no necessary."


    Vow shuddered. "Erm, I''m good."


    "You''d waste your efforts," said William, considering things in Lamech''s terms. "The buildings here aren''t nearly tall enough for a fall like that to kill someone. And I''d just heal her anyway.


    "You''d be causing friction for nothing."


    "Not necessarily," said Lamech. "If you drop someone headfirst, you need a lot less height for it to be lethal. With a broken ankle, you can survive for a while. A broken head is more or less a death sentence. Especially if you have a hard surface like cobblestones at the bottom.


    "The ground here isn''t as good as that. But you''ve still got a decent amount of stones. Also, even if she survived, you''ve got the undead out here. So even a minor injury would be potentially lethal if you were alone."


    "Yes, but she''s not alone," said William, deciding this had gone on long enough. "And if you try it, I will kill you. My profession is nothing if I do not follow my code."


    "A fair point," said Lamech.


    "There is something seriously wrong with you," said Vow. "Felix, why is your Paladin master best friends with a Blackguard?"


    "My Master is like this with everyone," said Felix.


    "Fine," said Vow. "So, how are those cards working out?"


    "What is your connection with this woman?" asked William.


    "We met before Duke Vanion purchased my freedom," said Felix. "We were on the same slave ship."


    William paused. "I see.


    "I need to write my notes on everything I''ve seen."


    "If you release those publically-" began Vow.


    "The civil war will be terrible and my death short," said William sadly. "And no, I''m not letting you read them."


    "I wasn''t going to ask," said Red. "I''ve got enough to do turning this place defensible.


    "What I wouldn''t do for some catapults."


    Very few appreciated just how much editing went into these documents. Every volume had to be practically rewritten. First, William had to check other sources to revise them and ensure everything was clear. And then Father and Rusara had to read them and have them censored.


    So many things would have to be removed to prevent damaging them politically. William had several copies of the actual volumes in several vaults. He hoped to release them later.


    But he did not think he would ever release this.


    Not in his lifetime.


    He remembered all he had seen as he gazed out in the fading light at the blackened and terrible land of Blackfear. And he pondered ominous and terrible events which he thought he''d soon discover. But, looking out, he realized things were probably far bleaker than they appeared.


    And yet, in that bleak and terrible nature, there was a kind of awful beauty. Majestic artistry is created by no one hand. Seamlessly weaved together into a tapestry of mankind''s sins. The sun dipped lower on the horizon, bathing the land in dim, orange light. Then, it seemed to cut through the daze for a moment, and they were showered in red and terrible light.


    Lamech was there by the gates, seeming for a moment a living shadow of darkness.


    Then the light faded, and all was dark.


    "It''s beautiful," said Jaina, coming up beside him.


    "Yes," said William. "Yes, it is."


    So it was that a song began. It rang in melancholy and terrible malice, resounding through the woods and trees. The wheat rustled with it, and it seemed for a moment soft and kind before becoming terrible. Then, men screamed beneath it, and William heard a sharp ringing.


    Yet raising his harp, he strummed his hands against it, and the magic was unleashed. Back and forth the spells went, contesting one another. The music of valiant defenders against the unending ravenous hunger of the undead. Of friends who fought together and allied with their allies. Torches were lit in the challenge, illuminating the darkness beyond. And before them was revealed the phantom of a beautiful elven woman. Her face was of pale beauty and sad for a moment before it turned cruel.


    And into the light came much ravenous undead, rushing toward them from all sides. Arrows were loosed into them, claiming many as others scaled up to be hit and hacked with hatchets. The ringing of bells and the flare of torches were everywhere, and the music flowed about them.


    Jehair moved along the wall, cutting down those who got up. Lamech was at the barricade, hewing down many. Arkan was calling orders to his men and sending them wherever needed. One man was born down and torn down. Fenus was hewing with an axe while Felix and several other men were slashed with torches.


    Jaina was casting fire.


    On it went.


    As the night pressed on, Arkan rotated some men to replace the tired ones. Water was handed out soon, and the front lines had to begin alternating. Lamech went wherever he was needed and hacked and slashed brutally. The music of William''s harp resounded with the Singing Sword as the peasants fought on.


    Yet the labor was hard. William''s hands began to ache with his playing, his hands shaking. The singing of his enemy was painful to him. It was all he could do to draw that pain into himself and spare others. But he felt that only a small portion of their full strength had been mustered.


    At last, just as things seemed bleak, the sun began to rise again. It appeared orange in the distance as somewhere, a rooster crowed. What they saw were piles of corpses that were unending around them. They were hardly able to get out from beside the walls. The land became greener, slightly more alive, but the labor during the day was terrible.


    Here the villagers who had not fought came down to move the bodies.


    William came down, exhausted.


    "Where the hell were you?" asked Lamech.


    "Playing music to contest the will of undeath itself is not like hacking up villagers, Lamech!" shouted William angrily. "If I''d stopped playing there that undead would have Sylvar''s will behind them. Then you''d face an organized army much stronger than this."


    "Enough, gentlemen," said Arkan. "We can''t afford to lose any valuable assets. In this land, they might come back to life." Laughter.


    "So, who was this elf witch anyway?" asked Lamech.


    "An ancient opponent with a long vendetta with humanity," said Jehair. "Anoa and her knew ages of hatred for one another and cost eachother many friends and loved ones. They took one another''s lives several times and cursed one another. Each time one reached a point of triumph, the other snatched it away and burnt it to ashes out of spite.


    "Every attempt at mediation between the two was refused. When offered peace, the other paid them back with blood. The result was an escalating series of horrors that led to this and many scenes like it.


    "Did you know that Blackfear was initially supposed to be the capital of humanity?


    "It was held in sacred trust for ages to return to them. And they turned it into this rather than accept a gift.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    "They must have hated us very much."


    She sounded bitter and perhaps she was right to. The elven golden age was long ago and had never been regained in any world.


    But no one was in the mood to ask. And pick it up they did, finally finding the materials for Arkan''s original plan. Bells and wards were set and arrows retrieved, and William spent most of the day trying to focus.


    Men came from all over, wanting to join up in the fight. But Arkan politely refused additional volunteers. Instead, Red was dispatched to have them fortify the village during the day, and they were put to work there. Walls were repaired, fences strengthened, and new weapons fashioned. You could also see men drilling with spears, preparing for some future conflict.


    Arkan had plans for this place. Perhaps as an outpost to move illegal goods?


    "Smuggling," said Felix quietly, guessing William''s mind as they ate together. "A safe and secure road through Blackfear, combined with local support, benefits Arkan. If all goes well, he can move goods easily."


    "It makes sense," said William. "But we cannot leave these people.


    "For the moment, our interests are one and the same."


    "He knows Jehair well," said Felix.


    "Everyone knows Jehair well," said William. "There''s no point in speculating yet. Don''t repeat that to anyone, not even Jaina."


    "I wasn''t going to," said Felix. "But she''s guessed as much as well."


    During the next night, William did fight. He stood on the walls with Jaina, deciding he would not win the next match. And it was good that he did because, this time, the undead were far better organized.


    The first assault was covered by waves of arrows that shot over the wall, catching several men. Others saw them on shields or ducked under cover in time. Arkan had priests waiting in the read to tend to the injured and get them back into the fray. By the time the ropes were thrown onto the wall. William healed those wounded and tried to cover them with their shield. Next, a ram was brought in, made of pure stone, and dozens of undead rushed to the barricade and threw themselves into it. Three were cleaved down by Lamech in the first wave. Arkan speared two, while Red got three huge ones. Finally, arrows were launched into the midst of the creatures, and many fell. You could see Vow firing a crossbow from the walls while Jaina cast fire.


    The sound of William''s music resounded throughout the walls. And as it played, the undead was slowed, and some turned back. They fought to try and get past those still charging, and many died in the chaos.


    The next wave ran into the wards, and so the fight began. William ran to the gate and leaped down to join the fray and cut down a rotting corpse with one stroke. Another blow cleaved a skeleton down while a burst of flame burned a zombie. Jaina was at work now. Parrying a rusted sword, William smashed the skeleton with his shield.


    Then Lamech came into view, wielding his white sword to cleave down all around him. He fought like a berserker, without mercy, and loved the blood he spilled. He was so struck with such fury that he often cleaved down three undead with one swing. Another swing cleaved two more. Red cleaved down one, then another. With a swing, she another with her two-handed strokes, hair flowing about her. The motion sent her ample bosom bouncing as she licked her pouty lips in hunger. William was so distracted he didn''t notice the skeleton coming at him from behind. Turning, he saw a blade heading for his throat-


    The skeleton exploded as a firebolt hit it head-on. Looking up, he saw Jaina above. Nodding to her, he turned to go back into the fray. Red''s strikes were rapid, and she kept to the barricades, but she was keeping up. On her face was a wide smile.


    Her fighting technique was similar to Mother''s.


    Yet quite different.


    "They''re on the walls!" cried someone. "To arms!"


    William looked up to see ropes and steel ladders shoved onto the walls and undead surging up them. Peasants hacked the creatures as they came or pushed the ladders down with forked sticks. Others fired arrows down into the midst of the oncoming ranks. All while the runes glowed all the brighter. Jehair was up there, her scythe spinning and always in the thick of the fighting. The bodies of the undead fell in pieces around her as her brown hair flowed about her like autumn leaves in the wind.


    Jaina''s fire continued to be cast.


    Yet the undead were tireless and without fear. Some will press them to preserve their lives. William had a skeleton block his sword with a shield, and as he cleaved it down, he saw Felix have his sword parried. A moment later, the undead fell. The undead seemed to be waking, somehow, gaining greater ability to defend themselves. With each moment, they became ever more dangerous. Soon Lamech was forced back to the barricades by them trying to hem him in, leaving him a trail of corpses behind. They were now side by side, as spears were jabbing down.


    On it went.


    The flames were burning low. The runes began to burn brighter than ever and then to fade as the darkness closed in. More wood was put to flame as William''s body ached. A spear bounced off his pauldron, and a mace numbed his shield arm. A strike to an iron collar jarred his wrist. Red began to sweat while the arrows began to run low. Men began to throw stones instead, while Jaina''s cloak was torn by a knife. Only Jehair was tireless.


    By now, they were out of firewood; they were tired and miserable. Arkan called off some men to rest who could no longer fight, and they threw themselves on the ground in despair. William fought on, sustained by holy power. So did Lamech and Felix dart this way and that in the shadows. Stones rained down, but fewer than before, as several throwers had been killed.


    Night fell, and morale was verging on collapse by the second day. By the time the assault had ended, no one had spoken. They were soaked in sweat and blood, and several men had been killed. William walked among the wounded and healed them while others stood guard. All around the fort were the bodies of who knew how many undead. Their forms were rotting into the earth as they spoke, falling to dust as dark magic faded. Yet some remained, their skeletons newer.


    These Arkan used as fuel to burn bonfires and ordered the arrows fired to be retrieved.


    William strongly suspected morale was going to collapse. The peasants had been reluctant to do this before. Now they had made their stand and narrowly lived, losing friends. What more could they do? One could hardly blame them for wanting to give up.


    The next assault would be worse.


    "We have more experience now," said Arkan. "And we haven''t suffered serious casualties.


    "We need only not waver, and we''ll deal the undead another serious defeat tomorrow."


    "The undead were tireless tonight," said Fenus. "Tomorrow, they will come in greater numbers. And they may bring more powerful creatures.


    "Isn''t this enough, good master?"


    "No it is not," said Arkan. "This victory might be an irritation, but it will be dismissed as an isolated incident. They do not value these lesser undead enough to mourn the loss.


    "They must suffer enough casualties for this to be a setback. Only then will you be taken seriously." Felix gave William a look that said that it was something more than that. Could Arkan be trying to weaken the undead for some later operation? A siege of Blackfear might make sense.


    But what strength did Arkan have for such an assault? Of course, these people could hold ground. But they could never assault a fortified position. Let alone one where Neral Dinis resided.


    "We might attract more attention if taken seriously," said Fenus, who was no fool. He''d killed several undead during the fighting as well.


    "You''ll attract their attention eventually anyway, Fenus," said Jehair. "If they know the people of Blackfear to be formidable fighters. They will hesitate before wiping you out. Keep your head down too long, and you will only be baring your neck for an axe.


    "Besides, every undead you slay will help with the harvests later. You know as well as I do what these foul creatures do to the lands they walk on."


    Why was she in such support of this? She did not love Neral Dinis, but these undead were not his.


    And before now, Jehair had tried to avoid confrontations or followed William''s lead. So why was she steering Blackfear into a large-scale fight with the undead? She had to know these people couldn''t win a full-scale war. And Jehair would never be so heartless as to use them as disposable pawns.


    This was set up for some other business.


    For what? Jehair seemed to know everyone, so anyone could be involved.


    "General," said Red. "Four people are coming this way down the road."


    William hurried up and saw them. All four, one orange-haired with ram horns and very large, another in white robes. Then you had a huge black man with curly hair that covered much of his brow and a beautiful auburn haired girl. "I know them.


    "They are Oresa, Ictargo, Urus, and Cadas. Mercenaries from afar. They did excellent work for my cousin Vorn."


    "I''ll speak with them," said Arkan. "We may be able to get their help."


    And he went out to do so.


    William looked red and reflected that she was a very beautiful woman. Her body was very toned, and the red hair...


    No.


    He''d noticed things like that a lot lately, and he wasn''t sure he liked it. It kept hitting him with the various women he met, and it was distracting. His throat had nearly gotten cut because of it this time.


    "Why do they call you Red Safara?" asked William. "Why are you named after a love goddess?"


    "Because I am her," said Red Safara. "I am one of Safara, the Consumers priestesses. As we advance in power, we become more and more her aspect.


    "Her worship came to Spirtana after the death of our Goddess Tamar. In her name, I consume the energies of those I slay. And through me, she consumes them."


    "Ah, yes, the more violent aspect she represents," said William. "How far in her service are you?


    Red crossed her arms in a huff. William guessed this meant ''not very'' and dropped the subject.


    Isamu and company soon joined the army. It turned out Ham Hawkthorne had pointed them to the battle while wandering drunk. And they proved to be exactly what was needed to shore things up. So another battle was fought in much the same form as those before. Ictargo and Cadas took a position in the barricades. They fought with a fury and power comparable to anyone. Isamu struck with wild and untamed strokes that drove the undead before him. While Cadas'' gauntletted fists slew many.


    Oresa played the role of healer, tending to the injured. Though more quickly than William could, much to his satisfaction. Urus took place on the wall, and his bow sang under the dim stars. Many undead were cast from the walls by him.


    William, Red, and Lamech went wherever they were needed. And they needed many places, usually on opposite sides. They hacked and cut and drove the enemy back time and again. But, each time, the undead suffered worse losses, and the villagers were hardened.


    But the enemy always came back in greater numbers.


    So the skirmishes went on for five more days. And on the seventh day, everyone was exhausted. They had the men to keep fighting and the weapons to keep fighting. Birds were singing, and flowers were growing by the wall. Oresa and William could heal, and they had the men to win.


    Yet it did not matter.


    The villagers had done far more than anyone had expected or wanted to. And they were spent and could go no further. Their fields were not being tended, and they needed to be trained soldiers. Arkan saw this at once. And as another day dawned, and William stood with a bloodied sword, Arkan had had enough.


    "Break camp and return to the village," said Arkan. "We''ve won as many skirmishes as we can here."


    "You call that a skirmish?" asked Ictargo.


    "Yes, these were major battles," said Oresa. "Weren''t they?"


    "Hardly," said Lamech. "We''ve only just gotten the attention of our enemy. "This is a minor loss, nothing more. They''ll have shifted reserves in a few days to replace the ones we killed here."


    "We''ve killed hundreds of undead in each battle," said Arkan. "Perhaps even a thousand in some.


    "But a single undead is worth a tenth of what a motivated soldier is, even untrained. With our defensive advantage, we could hold. Another assault like that, and we''ll cave. If we must fight, it ought to be in the village.


    "No, the real achievement is in human will. We have proven that we can fight and win battles and deal them minor defeats. One minor loss for them is a major victory for us. If every village in Blackfear were to deal them a string of minor defeats, that would add up very quickly. It would cost them enough to cause problems and draw off forces from other domains.


    "So you now have something to bargain with, Fenus. And I think they will be in less haste to prey on your people.


    "Indeed, our victory here should at least satisfy the House Gabriel philosophy. Pushing it any further will see us killed."


    "House Gabriel philosophy?" asked Oresa, blinking with big eyes.


    "My Father," said William. "Believes that when facing an enemy you can''t defeat, you should injure them in a limited battle. Once you have that, negotiate. If you cave without a fight, they will not respect you.


    "If you fight to the bitter end, you''ll be destroyed.


    "On the other hand, if you make enough trouble to be a problem when crossed, they''ll leave you alone."


    "An attitude I can respect," said Urus.


    "What are you doing?!" said Isamu. "We''ve had it all our way this whole battle! We should be pressing the attack, not running like a bunch of cowards!"


    "This is pathetic," said Red. "We should keep fighting.


    "We could hold out here for weeks and bleed these undead white. I don''t care how many tombs they have beneath the surface. We''d emptied a few of them. Let''s empty a few more."


    "It''s not your home that will starve if your fields aren''t taken care of," said Fenus, crossing his arms. "And you were late to this battle anyway, Isamu. You came in last of us and have not seen any of your friends die."


    This was enough to silence Isamu. And so the battle ended, with the ground that had been taken restored. Yet all the plants seemed healthier. Many reported the crop were growing better and fuller than ever.


    "What are you going to write about this?" asked Arkan as he and Jehair sat across from William. Jehair was meditating.


    "I shall summarize events," said William. "And make a note of all relevant accomplishments. However, since I could never publish this without treason-"


    "We''ll never get a chance to read it," laughed Arkan. "Well, perhaps someday. How did I do, Jehair?"


    "You fought at the front and commanded well," said Jehair, not opening her eyes. "Do it again with every other village; we might get out of this alive."


    "I take your point," said Arkan. "Still, I''ll make soldiers of these men yet. And this village could be fortified into a real base. If nothing else, they have been hardened. They would resist if the village were attacked tonight, not fall like wheat.


    "Once the men here are better trained, there is real hope.


    "What will you do, Isamu? I could use someone of your talents."


    "What I''ve been doing," said Isamu. "And no thanks.


    "I don''t do long-term contracts. It usually means I have to do something I don''t want."


    Then someone halted. William looked around and realized there was a major absence.


    "Where''s Lamech?" asked William.


    "Gone to betray us, I expect," said Urus.


    "Are you actually surprised?" asked Jaina, raising an eyebrow as she patched her cloak.


    "Not at all," said William. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Lamech seemed to have a knack for betrayal and already had connections here. If he were to bring Neral Dinis down here or some other enemy...


    William sighed, put the matter from his mind, and went to bed.

 Chapter 176 - Twenty-Eight: The Werewolf Police

    The fire burned exceptionally bright in the tavern that evening and the air was fresh outside.


    Many drinks were had, not overindulgent, and men boasted of their deeds in battle and drank. It was a crowded and merry scene, but William sat in a corner and watched. Urus was meditating on the floor while Oresa, Isamu, and Cadas were by the fire. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    They were by the door, everyone else had come in first, and Jehair was elsewhere. Urus stood up suddenly and adjusted his long, dark hair, tying it into another braid. "That was too easy."


    "What do you mean, Urus?" asked Isamu. The big man was sitting in a chair by the corner, drinking. Vow and Felix were playing cards.


    "The undead in Blackfear have many far more dangerous agents than we have faced," said Urus. "Why have we heard nothing of them yet? We ought to have vampires or werewolves or something. We''d heard the wolf calls for it."


    "Maybe they''ve gone home," said Oresa hopefully.


    "Unlikely," said Urus. "It seems that the undead is either occupied with some other enemy or have chosen to humor us."


    "What then do you advise, good masters?" said Fenus, polishing a glass. He put it down to pour a drink for Red, who was in a stupor at the bar. Her left hand clutched her sheathed sword in a vicelike grip as she mumbled drunk.


    "Nothing, for my part," said Felix, laying a card on the table. "You''ve shown you''re not weak, and they won''t come after you in a hurry now."


    "It doesn''t work like that, Felix, and you know it," said William. "Father''s strategy worked because he could consistently threaten Baltoth. If he''d been down to his last throw, Baltoth would have called his bluff. Assuming he''d known it.


    "The other villages have not had such an uprising.


    "If Sylvar decides to destroy us, she''d need only attack this place in isolation. We won''t be here in a bit."


    "Perhaps we could appease the spirit of Sylvar?" suggested Jehair. "She was not always so enraged and twisted."


    That sounded like a good idea. Or it would if William were not a Paladin and human. And if Sylvar did not have a reputation for backstabbing. "You would have us sin against Elranor when we need him most?


    "That would be madness."


    "He has a point," said Fenus. "I shall call for a round of prayers among the villagers. Then, perhaps if we show our devotion, Elranor might intercede to her on our behalf.


    "That would be appropriate."


    "I see your point," said Jehair, looking away. She was really trying to push a dialogue with the elven gods. First, she had spoken at length about the loss of sacred days. Then she had tried to spin things for this elven pantheon.


    Given what William had seen of the church, Jehair must have been trying to gain converts for her gods.


    "Is Sylvar an enemy of Elranor?" asked Oresa, a little ways off, brushing her long hair.


    "Blackfear is in the domain of the God Triumvirate," said William. "Any being that presents itself as a god in these kingdoms is contrary to his will. And, certainly, she is not the sort of person I would want to worship.


    "For reasons which by this point must seem obvious." Several laughs. "Speaking to her directly to appease her would be breaking ranks. Elranor can handle such discussions."


    "Sylvar has never been fond of humans," conceded Jehair, as though in a warning. "A quest into her domain would be dangerous, nearly futile." It was odd how she said it like she was responding to a different scene in an alternate version of the same play.


    "There''s always a first time," said Isamu.


    "Yes, but since I''m the only one who could break the enchantments. I think you gentlemen should devise a better plan," said William. "Or decide not to go at all.


    "I will not undertake a mission to appease Sylvar unless the entire village votes against me. We''ve had trouble enough on the defensive."


    "What makes you so special?" asked Jaina, who had been drinking with Red. She''d stopped early, though, while Red kept going.


    "I am a Paladin, and I''m experienced in breaking enchantments," said William. "I have the rank to negotiate. And I have a companion who is familiar with this territory. Everyone else here is either in command of a large force or only has some of those.


    "Jaina, you might manage it, but you were not in the Khasmir Campaign, to my knowledge. That was where I got my practice."


    "You do have a head start," said Jaina with a slight smile.


    "Makes sense," said Isamu. Urus could handle it in a pinch, though.


    "A pinch perhaps," said Urus. "But I agree with Sir Gabriel.


    "Appeasement is not a good option. These people are already in the power of the undead. Their goal should be to weaken their hold and gain outside support. A return to normalcy will only see the undead strike again later.


    "And then they will be better prepared. Our advantage will decrease as time passes, and a war is inevitable." A war with whom? Urus was a Medi from Calisha, and William wondered if he would be writing reports on what he saw.


    "What about the other villages?" asked Fenus suddenly. "We might convince them to stand up and be counted as we are. We are not as weak as we once were. And if all of us were to stand at once, we could make a great deal of trouble."


    "Yes, but what if Neral Dinis or Sylvar has decided to let the matter pass?" asked Jaina. "They might have simply noted your defiance and adjusted you to be worthy of note. You''ve said to yourself there needs to be more communication with him.


    "If we become a persistent threat, they might wage a full-scale war."


    "I think that any military operations must be limited to preparation. At least until we know the mind of your master," said Arkan, polishing his spearhead to one side. It was the first time he had spoken during the merriment. He had sat quietly in a corner, contemplating events. "...William, would you like to take my place in Blackfear? I have a meeting there I will be missing."


    William looked up. "What do you mean?"


    "A large number of distinguished people are meeting to discuss how to solve the crisis," said Arkan. "Not this one, the one you created for our business interests. Since I am playing the role of undead rebel hunter, I can hardly attend.


    "Even so, you could find the meeting most useful."


    Then there was a horn call.


    William looked out. "That''s a wood elf horn."


    Everyone rushed out, grasping the weapons they had near them. Everyone had taken to keep them near at hand these days.


    And they saw coming toward them Tyrasa and her group. They wore armor, leather, and furs that hid their curves. The cry of wolves was about, and they wore heavy scarves.


    "Tyrasa," said William, coming to meet her. "Your timing could not have been better."


    "So it seems," said Tyrasa, seeming a bit awkward. "We have witnessed the battles of these people, and I have chosen to lead a force to aid them. Our archers shall supplement their axe work well."


    "Now we have a real chance, then," said William. "You speak to Master Ferus in this. He is the leader of these people and has been coordinating with Arkan Lantan for the defense.


    "Have you encountered a man named Lamech?


    "He was part of the same organization as Tavish Kern."


    "No," said Tyrasa. "My sisters and I have spoken to no one. However, we did see an armored figure entering yonder barrow up there."


    William looked and sat only a line of nondescript hills. "I don''t see anything."


    "They are well hidden to your eyes," said Tyrasa. "But you can find them almost any way.


    "You should also know that High Priest Cirithil is on his way to Blackfear. His party is well-armored but of foreign mercenaries. I believe that we could head him off soon and-"


    "Do not finish that sentence, Tyrasa," said William. "That is the kind of thought that befits a friend of another nation. Cirithil is the High Priest, and that renders him untouchable. He has used my faith as a shield, but to harm him would harm that.


    "The church must be rescued from him. Not destroyed with him." Jehair looked outright panicked at that.


    Had Jehair been trying to convert him over to her side? It made sense. What about Isriath and the Goddesses of Themious? Why make their appearances to him?


    What if William had come here without being hardened in Khasmir and Seathorius? He might have listened. Much of what she said had merit; it contradicted his beliefs. Many people on this journey expected him to be his old self.


    Rius.


    Jehair.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Tef.


    The Goddesses of Themious.


    All had believed he would be like he had been in Gel Carn. Ill-disciplined and weak. They had been banking on it, and each paid for it when he didn''t act as expected. Well, not Tef, but she was essentially just a victim in all of this anyway.


    "The High Priest?" asked Fenus. "A messenger was here before. He spoke to many of us about our numbers before Ham Hawkthorne killed his company."


    "Why?!" said Isamu.


    "As far as I can tell," said Fenus. "Cutting him off in traffic."


    "Joffrey deserved it," said William. "He was half the reason Ascorn was as bad off as it was."


    "What is your quarrel with Cirithil," said Fenus. "I must know."


    William looked to Tyrasa. "Tyrasa...


    "I will need your permission for this."


    Tyrasa nodded. "Tell him."


    "I shall," said William. "What I tell I kept only because there was no time."


    Fenus heard the story in full and looked shocked. "If this is so, he must only be allowed to meet Neral Dinis with a representative of our people.


    "Sir Gabriel, will you go?"


    "I will," said William. "But I will not do so in Cirithil''s company. Is there some way I could fight my way in? So I would not appear to Neral as a beggar at the door. Especially since Cirithil already has his ear."


    "Um, don''t usually beggars not wear expensive armor?" asked Oresa. "I mean, maybe you could have some beggar knights. People who fight for justice while asking for handouts on the side."


    Red laughed uproariously, raising her head upwards before falling back onto the counter. She began to snore.


    "Lady Oresa, I was speaking figuratively. Jaina, will you attend?" asked William.


    "Actually, I have to leave now," said Jaina ruefully. "I''m here as an observer, but I''ve got to see other villages. Ferus'' idea of gathering support from those villages is a good one. And I can be helpful there in negotiations. With a general rising, the undead will have a harder time surrounding you."


    Then there was another horn call and a heroic triumph to it.


    A sense of joy and wonder, of sudden salvation, long prepared. Yet it was weakened by the grim fights that had been had before. Golden-armored elves arrived in armor with shining swords and spears. Yet William did not know them, and Tyrasa''s coming had relieved him.


    So the arrival of these newcomers was blunted. A sense of eucatastrophe was around them as though meant for someone else.


    What were they doing here? How had they gotten here in such convenient timing, and why had no word been sent ahead? This was like something out of a story, almost... custom-tailored.


    It was all for a different William Gabriel. The William Gabriel who hadn''t taken that boat with Raynald and Rusara, which seemed so long ago.


    "Hail and well met. We are a mercenary company from Qur''Danas; we''ve come to aid these people in their time of need," said a familiar figure. "We desire to restore this land to its former power and beauty and would offer our services."


    William moved forward. "Farwa, what are you doing here?"


    Farwa took off her helm to let her dark hair fall. "William, well met. I was relieved of my position by Cirithil and came here instead. As is the custom in the Paladin Order when you have no options. One of his favorites is now in charge of Ascorn, I gather.


    "But I sent letters to House Telus, and I do not think he will survive long. We''ve become quite popular, you know."


    "Ha! Now we have an army!" said Vow, playing her own card triumphantly. "Take that, Sylvar."


    Jaina was packing her bags.


    "Elves?" asked Urus. "You are of Jehair''s people."


    "Why is there a convenient squad of elven warriors within a day''s march of this town?" asked Isamu. "And why have the undead not eaten them?


    "This is too convenient?"


    "Isamu, that is not the kind of observation you make in public!" said Urus in the tone of someone who has said it before.


    "We shall need you, I am sure," said Arkan, quickly coming forward and shooting a deadly glance at Isamu. Obviously, he began to think them more trouble than they were worth. Such words could have gotten them all killed. "Gentlemen, soon we must begin a council of war to plan how best to confront this undead. For now, however, we must send a mission to Blackfear. The fastest way would be through the barrow, on a hill north of here.


    "There is a passage there that leads into the labyrinth. Jehair has walked it before."


    "I have," said Jehair.


    "Then you must escort Sir Gabriel''s party to Blackfear and ensure he arrives safely," said Fenus. "The rest of us must go at once and secure the remaining villages. This place is prepared to resist an attack, but the others are not. Some may have to be wholly abandoned for more defensible territories.


    "It will be hard labor.


    "Yet we shall leave this land a safer place."


    "To arms!" cried a lookout. "An army descends on us in great force from the barrows! It is larger than all the rest, and vampires and werewolves are among them! It numbers greater than all the others!"


    "Then prepare for battle and man your posts," said Fenus. "General Arkan, you are in command."


    "Lady Jaina," said Arkan. "Sir Gabriel, I ask that you secure the fort and hold it against any that try to take it from us. If undead archers take it, it will be impossible to maneuver."


    William nodded and drew his sword. "Come, Felix, let''s go."


    "We''ll go too," said Isamu.


    "No, you will be needed to defend the village," said Arkan. "The fort requires only a smaller force."


    "Who the hell do you think you are?" asked Isamu in disgust. "Last time I checked Lamech is your son. So you''re selling William out!"


    "There''s no time to argue," said William quickly. If Isamu sabotaged the command structure, they wouldn''t have a chance. Whatever was going on, the battle against these undead was important. "I have an alliance with House De Chevlon. We should be taken alive if captured. And the fort does have to be held. These people must be protected."


    He did not say that if Jehair had a connection to this, they had no problem. William suspected Arkan had only listened to him because Jehair was present. So William had been taken for a puppet. What, however, was the end goal for all this?


    Isamu looked to William, then Arkan. Finally, he shrugged. "Fine then," said Isamu. "But if you sell these people up the river Arkan, we''ll have a problem."


    "Gods favor you, William," said Tyrasa, bowing.


    And they hurried down the hill, watching as the light they had been accustomed to faded. Finally, arriving at the old outpost, they found the shattered remnants of the barricade. Bits and pieces that had never been recovered.


    "I''ll light some torches for you," said Jaina. "But after that, I can''t stay with you. Arkan is setting us up to die with deniability. That''s why he asked you to go in his stead."


    "I know," said William. "Felix, help me with this. Jehair, do what you can."


    "Don''t light any torches on the walls," said Jehair. "And stay out of sight until the last possible moment. Our best hope is to be unnoticed and ignored."


    Hurried preparations saw the barricade restored across the gate. Jaina set up several torches and then hurried off.


    In came a great horde of undead. Yet the bulk of it was heading toward the village as predicted. Arrows rained down upon them from on high, and light and music flamed high in the windows. Up the hill went the undead but found a fortified wall with armed men. Vampires, pale-skinned and savage with bald heads, leaped over it and scaled. But they found elven swordsmen waiting. Their blades sang as the battle was joined and many undead fell in mere moments.


    At the same time, just as Arkan guessed, a contingent broke off to seize the fort. Yet it was not of undead but werewolves. Wild-eyed and with red, they moved forward snarling and savage, and at their head was that blonde woman. William could see her through the slit in the wagon. She wore dark robes and had blue eyes and an angelic, elfen face, though her ears were normal. Two locks of hair were tied up above her face as she ran toward the gate at the head of the pack.


    The other wolves, however, had limbs like men but with fur and had a savage look. They were hunched, with huge claws on their hands.


    "Aw, how cute," said the woman. "These pathetic food think some broken wood will keep us out. Find anyone inside and capture each of them. Then hold the fort while Sylvar'' forces get smashed to bits.


    "We can watch the show."


    William looked at Felix, Jehair, and Massacre behind the wall.


    One of the wolves leaped over the wagon, then another. Then they rose up as one to meet the others. William saw a werewolf coming at him, jaws opening. Bringing down the Black Sword, he tried to smite it, yet it darted aside and charged. Then, turning his blade to catch it, they were born down.


    Hitting the ground hard, William felt it biting his hand, only to hit his gauntlet. Bashing it with his shield, he tried to get free. Again and again, he hit it, yet it would not lose the mouthful, and his sword could not move. The armor was starting to shudder, even as he bloodied it. Massacre was roaring now as he tried to get free. Again, the creature''s claws scraped over his armor, but finally, he managed to get his blade in an underhand grip.


    Thrashing to one side, the blade sank into the neck, howling as it loosed him. Shoving it off, William brought down his shield to bash it. From there, he drew his blade and struck it down. Even as he did, however, another threw him off his feet, and he slammed to the ground. In the air, he heard the sound of battle everywhere.


    Cries of ''for Harlenor'' and ''for Elranor'' were everywhere.


    Pushing the creature back, he hit it across the shoulder. Yet the blow was weak, and it fell back only a little before lunging again. Even as it did, he threw his full weight forward with a shield. Feral muscle met steel, and the wolf was thrown back to the ground. William raised his sword to kill it, but another came at him.


    Bringing his blade down toward it, he caught it in the leg and slowed it. However, it smashed him with a paw, and he hit the wall. Felix and Jehair were fighting as well but were overwhelmed. The blonde woman watched with obvious enjoyment and approval. Now two werewolves were coming, while those he''d beaten were standing up. Seeing one of the torches Jaina made by the wall, William dropped his shield and snatched it.


    Driving it forward, he caught one in the face, and it whimpered and backed up. His blade he brought down to cut the skull of the next. It didn''t break, but it screeched while the other two came at him. One got a torch to the shoulder, and the other was jabbed in the stomach and fell back. Soon all of them circled before him, their back to the wall.


    The woman laughed. "Oh, this is hilarious. You, idiots, are all being outdone by some random human. Some werewolves you''ll be." Then she became enraged and her face twisted into a feral scowl. "I''ve had it."


    And rushing forward in a blur, she slammed one with a fist against the wall. The next, she dealt an uppercut that sent them away. So she went, kicking and striking them in a rage. "Idiots! You''ve made fools of us! I ought to rip your souls out!" Then she turned to William and raised a hand as the others withdrew. "You are cordially invited to meet with the Baroness Saphra De Chevlon while the people up there all die."


    So far as William could guess, the fighting was still going strong.


    "I think you underestimate the men of this place," said William. "You would Larxe, the reincarnation of Malice and chosen of the Alpha?"


    "So you noticed?" asked the woman. Her hair was slicked back, and her robes were designed to hide her movements. Even so, her activities were so chaotic that it was impossible to hide them. She was constantly shifting her neck and was now pacing.


    "Well, they give better sport than expected," said the woman. "I decided to try to test some of my younger broods up there.


    "Still, their time has come and gone. We don''t need them now; they will only survive for a while. Their fate is of no concern to Neral Dinis."


    "Arkan is your contact then?" guessed William.


    "Yes," said the woman. "He''s quite annoyed at how you forced him into hero work.


    "I find it hilarious. I''ve wanted to drink his blood for some time." She flexed a hand and drew out a knife. "I drink everyone''s blood.


    "Where is Jaina Atravain?"


    "Who?" asked William.


    "The girl who went here with you," said Larxe. "Where is she?


    "I''m to get her as a hostage to keep Atravain in line."


    "There is no one here by that name," said William. "I will go back with you now. But if you decide to start conducting searches, I will fight you. And I might just get some help from them."


    Larxe nodded. "Smart." Then she surged forward and pinned him against the wall, drawing very near with her eyes mad. Her strength was immense, and her grip was like iron. The stonework shuddered, and his breath was knocked out of him. "Try to manipulate me, you brat! I''ll wring your neck and..." She stepped back. "Only joking.


    "Let''s get going." She released him.


    "I would not presume to question your judgment," said Willam, falling to one knee. "However, Felix and Jehair will not be in my company. Or we will kill some of you before we are taken."


    "I''m looking forward to it," said Larxe. "Now, all of you shut up and stop being such violent brutes! Take Gabriel and go, and don''t bind him!


    "He''s Neral Dinis'' guest."


    Wonderful.


    Because the only thing this situation needed was more psychopaths.


    Still, Jehair needed to be fixed with Neral Dinis. Which narrowed the possibilities a great deal.


    Now he needed only a few more pieces. And to survive being Neral Dinis'' guest.

 Chapter 177 - Twenty-Nine: Infiltration

    Most people who met Tanith Telus tended to assume that she was a mindless attack dog. However, if they tried to get to know her, they learned she was a loyal friend, loved her family, and was well-learned. Perceptions of mindless bloodlust were inaccurate at best and dangerous at worst. Especially since Tanith knew when people underestimated her and hated it. That being the case, Larxe seemed to be the attack they thought Tanith was.


    In the time since they departed, three days had passed. They''d left behind a village under siege and still holding and made for the Barrow. Or so he gathered from conversations. During this time, Larxe had not even once said anything that was not mocking or threatening.


    It was almost impressive.


    She was violent, vicious, brutal, and short-tempered and really rather dim. William was not one to cast judgment lightly, but she seemed to have no other aspect to her personality. Most of her time was spent hitting her pack and yelling at them. And they moved at an exhausting pace, even for William. All objections were met with violence and all failures with violence. Even success was sometimes met with violence.


    Larxe did seem sane enough not to touch William, as he was under the protection of Neral Dinis. In fact, Neral Dinis appeared to be the only thing she did not have a deranged desire to brutalize.


    "Move you, wretches!" snarled Larxe one morning, kicking people awake. "We''ve got a journey ahead. The King''s Road is near; we''ll move along it and kill anyone who tries to tell us."


    "Is that legal?" asked William, hefting his pack.


    "It better be for the law''s sake," said Larxe. "The High Priest is calling in troops to stop the peasant revolt! They killed one of his messengers; we found their bodies!" Peasant revolt? Serfdom had never been introduced to Antion. There had been one or two attempts by immoral nobles to do so. And those attempts had ended in their deaths.


    Escor had only fallen into it because the Haldrenians beat them so badly. It had been the only way they could keep society together. But, between Babarassia and Haldren and Viokinar, Escor had been in very bad shape. And then, just when things had been going well, the Escorian Civil War broke out.


    And that was worse than all of them. House Gabriel had nearly gone extinct.


    Then again, Cirithil probably assumed he didn''t have to have a credible cause of war. As far as he was concerned, he could do as he liked, and everyone would believe his excuses. Even if they didn''t, he probably wouldn''t care as long whatever he was doing hurt someone. He really was exceptionally childish, wasn''t?


    "Actually, that was Ham Hawkthorne," said William, not wanting to say any of this. For all he knew was Larxe of Cirithil''s party. "You see, the messenger cut him off in traffic-"


    "I don''t care what they did," said Larxe. "Move! Move, or I''ll crush your skulls, you worthless ingrates!"


    Larxe and her wolves moved fast. Faster than William was used to moving, she drew out a whip to crack at the heels of stragglers. Despite this, he was able to keep up.


    William was used to moving fast; he''d done it in Khasmir and many other places. But Larxe drove her werewolves on with marvelous speed. Often she''d take a seeming detour that would bring them faster. Anything that got in the way was either circumvented or broken.


    And soon, they came to the King''s Road.


    William had gone through many adventures to avoid it, and now he knew why. It looked like it had been half-taken apart. Most of the cobblestones were missing and badly overgrown, at least here. In fact, it was tiny but a glorified path. Greener lands lay on the other side, but no one dwelled outside fortified settlements.


    They hurried along it, and people came out with bows to watch them go by. Eventually, after a day of travel, they stopped. During this time, they saw a girl watching with a doll of straw and old bits of leather. Larxe paused, looked at her, then shot forward and snatched the doll. Walking back, she drew out a knife and began stabbing it with a knife with a childlike smile on her face. The girl was crying to one side as straw, and William moved up to her.


    "She''s killed my doll," said the girl.


    "Don''t worry," said William, feeling horrible. "That''s not your doll.


    "She''s just freeing it from its earthly confines so that it can help the people on the other side of this road. She''ll return to you if you make another, but you can''t return this way. Are your parents near?"


    "Yes," said the girl.


    "Go to them," said William. "Remember that your doll has saved you from the bad things here. So make another one, and don''t make it get hurt like this again."


    She dried her tears and ran off. The foolish girl really needed to sort out her priorities.


    William saw Larxe was still stabbing the doll but looking up at him with strange eyes. William walked near her.


    "Why is Cirithil bringing troops here, really?" asked William.


    "I don''t care," said Larxe.


    "You realize he was enslaving them only a little while back," said William. The story would get out soon anyway.


    "I don''t care," said Larxe.


    "Well don''t you live here?" said William.


    "No, I don''t," said Larxe. "I just want to kill everything in this place for the Alpha so I can kill everything in some other place! Now shut up!"


    "As a guest of Neral Dinis, I want answers," said William.


    Larxe howled in fury, and the sound reechoed throughout the hills of Blackfear. Many undead dimly visible in the distance fled. "Fine, just ask your stupid questions."


    "Who are the troops?" asked William.


    "A bunch of bandits," said Larxe. "And mercenaries. He was hired by Sornian contacts of his using money from Namina. A guy named Nagos provided the cash. He throws it around a lot and hopes it will stick.


    "Neral Dinis'' has promised I can eat him. He''s fat, so he deserves to get eaten."


    "Do you eat humans?" asked William.


    "I''m about to!" snarled Larxe. And she threw the doll at him, but by now, it was straw, so it fluttered around. She howled in sheer rage at that. "Let''s just go! Get your things, and let''s move!"


    It was rapidly becoming apparent that Larxe had two different modes. Brutalization and screaming before brutalization. Neral Dinis had forbidden the brutalization of William, so Larxe did it to dolls instead. Several times she broke off and returned with severed limbs from the undead. She then used this to beat the other werewolves.


    And they continued on even faster than before. Sweat dripped down his brow, and his legs ached. His breathing became labored as they went on and on without pausing.


    Then William saw Castle Blackfear on the horizon, and all hope vanished.


    Once, it had belonged to Orson, the Greatest Knight in all of Harlenor.


    Now it stood like Carn Gable, yet taller and most terrible. The parapets had rotting corpses hanging from them. Bonfires stood on every battlement, and the stone was unadorned and seemed a solid whole. There was no mortar, and pale-skinned vampires walked the battlements with yellowed eyes. The gates were high and thin as if to allow in tall shipments.


    And outside the gates was a significant contingent of the undead. Larger and more numerous than any William had seen before. They seemed to fill the plains and might have still been defeated if all had gone well. Yet he saw ranks of men with spears and shields in the distance. Veterans and some he knew from the Khasmir Campaign victims to a need of money.


    Cirithil stood at the crossroads with his guards with Lamech beside him. At last, Larxe slowed their pace.


    "Larxe," said William, coming up with a plan quickly. "You are Neral Dinis'' favored servant, are you not?"


    "Obviously," said Larxe, somewhat huffily.


    "Well then," said William. "Why have you not been given command of that undead army? Were you even told of it?"


    "I''m sure Neral Dinis has a reason," said Larxe.


    "Perhaps he wants you to assert yourself," said William.


    "Assert my..." Larxe stopped in full. "I''m going to carry out my orders! And I don''t need an army of undead to kill all those worthless peasants! I can do it on my own!"


    "Then naturally, you should be the one to lead the army forth," noted William as they neared.


    "...Yes," said Larxe after a moment.


    She was oddly quiet as she grappled with a problem that did not involve violence. Now William hoped things could work. As they approached the crossroads, he saw that the army was near; it was coming to a halt as it saw the werewolves. Larxe had quite a few with her, drawing them up as she walked.


    Cirithil looked up and smiled, while Lamech looked very pleased with himself.


    "William Gabriel," said Cirithil. "What was it you said before?


    "''We won''t meet in Antion?'' I suppose that''s true."


    "Lamech, well met," said William, not considering the man worth his attention. "We''re here to aid in putting down the peasant revolt."


    "What?" said Cirithil, suddenly taken aback.


    "The High Priest has commanded a peasant revolt be halted," said William. Technically speaking, serfdom and being a peasant was not the same thing. Though often the two were associated, a serf was bound to the land. "So it must be so, mainly if Neral Dinis has supported it. It is a holy duty to preserve King Andoa''s authority.


    "Especially with so many honorable veterans.


    "Having been there myself, I can negotiate with any honorable citizens remaining. Being quite well informed. We can convince them to lead us to what rebels there are. Primarily since they have chiefly been concerned with the undead.


    "They have recently done great work clearing the roadways so that your path might be safe.


    "Indeed, Larxe has led us all this way with great speed. She knows this land better than anyone and has a relentless talent for it. So I think it is only fitting that she and her people be in the vanguard. All that the villages might be secured without violence."


    Silence from the men as they stared, and the undead eyed them. Cirithil made a motion. "You fool? Do you think your silver tongue will save you from this, Gabriel? I''m going to have you flayed alive before I set about those pathetic peasants you love so much.


    "Lamech, take him and make sure he suffers."


    Larxe slammed one foot onto the ground with such strength the pavement shuddered. Lamech made no move. "No."


    Cirithil stared at her as if gobsmacked. It was a moment William would treasure. "No?!"


    "No," said Larxe. "I don''t work for you. And you''re using my Lord''s troops, you stupid effeminate brat!


    "If you think I''m going to hand over Neral Dinis'' guest, you fake priests, you have another thing coming."


    "This is a matter of the church," said Cirithil.


    "Not my church," said Larxe. "And unless you want to end up flaying yourself, I suggest you step past."


    Cirithil looked to Lamech, who had made no move to enter.


    Lamech said something they could not hear to him, and it looked like Cirithil was about to lament. But that wasn''t good enough. An army was being raised here. Very soon, these gangs of thugs would be unleashed on the population of Blackfear. They''d turn them all into slaves and act like they''d betrayed Harlenor.


    And Cirithil would enrich himself further while feeling a smug sense of self-satisfaction. It had to be stopped.


    William whirled to Larxe. "Are you going to stand for this humiliation Larxe?!"


    Larxe looked up, not being the bloodthirsty person in the room. "What?"


    "You mean to tell me that you''re going to let these filthy High Priest come lately cut you out of your just reward?!" asked William. "And you call yourself an heir to the Alpha!!"


    Larxe raised a hand, then realized she was objecting to an opportunity for violence. Cirithil looked around while Lamech covertly stepped toward the men.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Kill them!!" said William. "Slaughter them all!! Drink their blood!!"


    Dead silence as Larxe went quiet for a moment. Her eyes cleared of bloodlust for a moment as she looked lost. Then her gaze turned skyward with new resolve and wisdom.


    "He''s right!!" said Larxe. "Slash!! MAIM!! TEAR!! BURN!! SLAUGHTER!!


    "BLOOD FOR THE ALPHA!! BLOOD FOR FORTENEX!! BLOOD FOR ZIGILDRAZIA!! BLOOD, FOR BLOOD''S SAKE!!"


    The werewolves howled, and the sound echoed across the fields and hills. It went deafening terror as others came out of the hills. The men looked at them with faces pale as death, and some took flight in terror as others clutched weapons. Then, with a burning madness, Larxe charged into the undead as one and tore into them. Her bare hands ripped through a dozen momentarily as a bolt of lightning formed in both hands. Then, attacking rapidly, she ripped them to shreds. Her werewolves tore through four to five, struggling to stay up.


    The High Priest fell off his feet in surprise and scrambled away. He got stepped on by a werewolf in confusion. Lamech looked in amusement, making a clapping motion.


    "Stop them!" said a mercenary dust elf with a massive black sword among the men. "Get those werewolves back into line!" He rallied the men and charged in.


    And so the men of Harlenor rushed to defend a legion of undead from werewolves. All so they could crush innocent people later. William, for his part, walked over to Lamech, who turned to him. Halting, William looked to where Cirithil was, fleeing into the gates. Just as he passed through them, they shut with a clang.


    "I would say you''re out of a job," said William, approaching Lamech. "And, unless I''m mistaken, you have a meeting there. Arkan sent me to take his place."


    "Yes," said Lamech. "I can get in the front entrance. But you''ll be arrested if you go in that way. There''s a back door I get in by; if you go up by Saphra De Chevlon, you should be fine. You''ll have to go through the slave pits, though.


    "Follow me."


    By now, the battle had become a three-way bout of carnage. Everyone was killing everyone else, and more undead was coming to join in. The dust elf with the huge sword was cleaving undead and werewolf down like wheat. Meanwhile, Larxe was savaging everything in sight while having the time of her life.


    The two kept a respectful distance from one another as they dropped down a ledge on the green side. The emotion being released by the dead undead was very nice, but they came to a side door. Lamech turned a key, and it opened to reveal a passage.


    "Isn''t this poor defense?" asked William.


    "Blackfear is only the antechamber for the undead," said Lamech. "They''re in the middle of a power struggle. It''s the Vampire Lords against Sylvar against the Withering King. They''re fighting it on several worlds.


    "Nothing to do with you.


    "That stunt we pulled was a minor skirmish. They are going to be very unhappy after what you''ve done today. If you want to try and get to Blackfear through this death trap, I couldn''t ask for a better way to kill you.


    "Although I admit, this is the most fun I''ve had in years." More howling could be heard, and flashes of lightning were around them.


    "Thank you," said William. "Do you control Cirithil, or is it the other way around?" "I''m Cirithil will say he controls me until I choke the life from his dying eyes with one gauntlet," said Lamech.


    "Duly noted," said William. "Step aside that way before I go in, please."


    Lamech nodded. He packed away, and William played his harp to disrupt any enchantments. There were none, and the fight behind him was still going strong. So he darted through and slammed the doors.


    Turning around, William was very surprised to see a silver-haired girl. She was clad in black armor. No, she was his age with red eyes and a smile and clad in heavy black armor emblazoned with the symbol of a lion. Moving forward, she offered a hand. On the other was a huge poleaxe.


    "I''m Fayn De Chevlon," her voice had a harsh, aristocratic accent. It brought to mind the tea and biscuits Father liked. "The Baroness would like to thank you for today''s entertainment. She has asked me to guide you through the labyrinth."


    "I am William Gabriel, a pleasure," asked William as he took it. "What is wrong with everyone in this nation?"


    Fayn struggled and spun her poleaxe, and William notice. "Well, I believe Larxe is something called a man-wolf. We''d rather the human population stay alive. Undead hierarchies are deadset; they don''t change. Living creatures usually help up-and-coming powers. Ones'' are of little use to stronger undead.


    "Thus House De Chevlon''s coordination with Cirithil."


    "Manwolf?" asked William. "That is not a real term."


    Fayn turned around. "As you like it. Escorian royalty disagrees with you.


    "Follow me." And they walked down a long passage. On either side were stone walls carved with intricate and horrible details. They seemed to be emblazoned with images of macabre death, with a focus on rebirth. "You''ve given the undead a bloody nose, which is good for us. It''s tipping the scales a bit back to Saphra. She''ll have some real authority now.


    "But, we''ll have to get to her first."


    "How did she know?" asked William.


    "Well, she was planning to meet you at the front gate if you went in that way. And I was sent to meet you here," said Fayn. "Neral Dinis is very amused. I think he was getting bored and you''ve interested him.


    "The game is low stakes, you see."


    They walked until; eventually, they turned a corner and came to a door. It was huge and made of stone. Fayn set her hands to it and shoved it open.


    "What are you doing here?" asked William.


    "Accompanying Grandfather," said Fayn. "I''d never thought anyone would be reckless enough to pick a fight with Sylvar.


    "I like reckless. You really think you''re the hero in a saga, right?"


    "Everyone seems to be these days," said William. The sound of fighting continued. "I have nothing to do with this story. All I''ve done is ask some questions and heal many people. Everything else has just been self-defense." sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You really don''t live up to expectations," said Fayn as the doors swung open to reveal a dark passage. "I was told you were a spineless, effeminate nice guy who got pushed around by his servant.


    "Instead, you''re an actual threat. Kind of screwed up a lot of arrangements long set in place. Don''t wander off; you''re only safe in my presence."


    "A year or two makes a world of difference," said William as Fayn walked along the right passage. William would have gotten lost long ago with all the different passages if Fayn had not arrived.


    "Why were you waiting right outside that door?


    "Baroness De Chevlon asked me to come up here and help you," said Fayn. "She wanted me to wait by that door if you came in that way. There was also someone waiting at the front doors, I guess. However, Larxe would never have let Cirithil lay their hands on you. She''s not stupid; she''s just in a yearly bloodlust state.


    "Every so often, her kind of man-wolf has their aggressive tendencies heightened. My guess is that if you hadn''t convinced her to attack Cirithil''s men, she''d have sent you in by the door."


    "And you don''t foresee disaster from that?" asked William.


    "Undead are pretty easygoing about life and death," said Fayn. "The intelligent ones have seen it all before. And those undead Larxe attacked were minor creatures. Though I gotta admit, you and Arkan killed a lot of them.


    "Neral Dinis was very amused. Sylvar losing those troops has weakened her enough to increase his influence.


    "Of course, if Larxe or her men get killed, we could have a problem.


    "You don''t think before you act. I feel the same way."


    "I did think," said William. "That army had to be broken up, or the people of Blackfear would be enslaved. Cirithil has been conspiring to enslave the populace here. Then sell them back to the planters up north."


    "That seems to like him. Can you prove this?" asked Fayn with a smirk.


    "Talk to King Faras," said William. "He has everything you need on the subject."


    "Are you working with the elves?" asked Fayn, raising an eyebrow.


    "Political allegiance is meaningless if the nation collapses," said William. "Cirithil needs to be stopped."


    "Well, he''s not my favorite priest," said Fayn, resting her poleaxe on her shoulders. "I''ve done some undead hunting down here, too, now and then. Grandfather was pleased. He''s got high hopes for me, assuming I can get Benarus to not disown me out of spite."


    "Why has no one killed Cirithil by now?" asked William. "He has more than overstepped any bounds of protection."


    "He''s important to many off-world officials," said Fayn. "The predecessor to Duke Marn, really. In theory, they''re supposed to regulate who gets to do business, being a divine agent. But, in practice, he just opened the floodgates in exchange for bribes.


    "House Marn was brought in to mediate things because Letan is impeccably honest. At least insofar as honesty is possible. That was bad news for Hawkthorne. We were practically running things. My grandfather would have much preferred for Cirithil to do his job.


    "Especially since he was the one who got him his position.


    "But Cirithil immediately made a bunch of off-world friends at the expense of Antion. And they refuse to let us take him out, no matter what he does. Some of those friends have connections in the criminal world; he''s untouchable."


    "Why would they like him?" asked William. "What has he done for them?"


    "It''s not what he''s done," said Fayn. "It''s what he hasn''t done.


    "See, the offworlders came here to access what they call ''markets''. They failed. Atravain wanted nothing to do with them; Letan saw them for what they were. Their refusal to respect the law meant Korlac shut them down immediately. And they insulted Edmund by tempting him with sex from a twelve-year-old.


    "The idea was to get him wrapped around their little finger. Sign some contracts, buy up local businesses."


    "Tef Lock," said William.


    "Right," said Fayn. "The fools botched it though, Edmund Telus was insulted as were the Haldrenians nobility. And those all wrote to their friends and got them to avoid them. And the Sornians hate letting other people into their markets. So they ended up with no one to do business with.


    "So, these people are fanatics. They are obsessed with opening new markets. It''s like a religion for them. Instead of worshipping gods, they worship economic trends and create mythos'' about them.


    "Cirithil was their ideal candidate.


    "When he came into power, he let them do whatever they wanted and pulled any necessary strings. So they think he is a really splendid guy.


    "But they have no alternative to Cirithil.


    "So if he were to be wiped out, they would lose everything quickly. Their actions have made them universally hated. This means that any time Cirithil gets into trouble, he can call on them, and they will give him what he wants. He has infinite resources at his disposal to pay any bribes and do any jobs necessary.


    "The truth is, Cirithil controls them. They haven''t achieved any of the goals they had for coming to Harlenor. If anything, they''ve probably lost money. But they don''t want to admit that decades of bribes have been for nothing. That would require taking personal responsibility, and they''ll never do that.


    "So they keep throwing money at Cirithil. Then he creates all these prostitution and slavery rings as a hobby.


    "He''s set for life either way."


    "So the plagues in Antion," said William, stunned. "The debauchery and ruin of so many towns. The atrocities of the Healer''s Guild and the destruction of the temples. The slaving rings of Blackfear...


    "It was all just idle amusement by a bored aristocratic?!"


    "Pretty much," said Fayn. "As I said, Cirithil is not my favorite priest."


    "That''s where most of the Healer''s Guild came from. Sen Kaba is only a front and, in reality, just banked some of it. He pulled out after the operation stopped being profitable. Most of the rest was pulled in from other worlds. They wouldn''t have any emotional connection to things.


    "I''m just an observer. I was returning to the Tournament of Kings, though."


    "How does Imogen fit in?" asked William.


    "Eh, she''s got plans to get more influence," said Fayn. "I gather she''s regarded as a loser among her own land. Apparently, she''s got a bad win record among the Goddesses of Themious.


    "I think she wanted to find a male champion to give her powers to here to expand her influence. But that didn''t go anywhere."


    "Well, I wasn''t recruited by her; Elranor recruited me," said William. "And she''s a Proxy Goddess for him. Sort of.


    "She stole it."


    "Thus her dilemma," said Fayn. "Blackfear hasn''t been the same since Tanith left it. She was professional about all this. Got the job done and did extra work on top of it. I remember I saw her in action out here. Wiped out all kinds of undead.


    "And she was the only person in Gel Carn smart enough to see that Wrynncurth needed to be put in his place. My Uncle was practically kneeling and hoping that Arengeth would come to save them. We''d have been finished if Relma Artorious hadn''t pulled Lightning Trail.


    "Did you know that Benarus tried to cut Tanith''s pay after she was proven completely right? But, of course, she walked out after that. The old fool is going to get us all killed. You never cheat your mercenaries.


    "Everybody liked Tanith in Blackfear. It''s a shame she''s of such illustrious birth. My family would have killed for a swordmaster like her."


    "Is she a friend of yours?" asked William in surprise.


    "Eh, that''s not the kind of thing you commit to," said Fayn. "We worked well together and plundered an undead tomb. Not much to plunder, but she mostly wanted the blood, and I wanted the ashes."


    "That sounds like Tanith," said William


    "Larxe and she got on well," said Fayn. "Tanith knew how to channel her."


    "So what is this Alpha?" asked William.


    "I was hoping you could tell me ''heir to the Alpha?''" asked Fayn.


    "Technically true," said William. "And it seemed like the sort of thing to get Larxe to commit violence. I know it''s a religion, but what do you know of it."


    "It''s a religion of the wolves of the world. And also some other savage creatures," said Fayn. "Basically, they believe that the Alpha was like their god. So they fed on it at the behest of Tamar, over and over again. And as they fed on it, they gained will and powers.


    "Then the Alpha appeared to them and sent them out to find many packs after banishing Tamar." They had begun to scale upward, and William was amazed at how well-managed these halls were. No cracks or anything, and it is meticulously clean. "Displays of mass bloodletting draw out the Alpha. Feasting on the corpses of sentients is a good way to get in touch with her. Or him, I don''t even know."


    "I spoke to a group of gnolls who have a different take on it," said William. "That seems to be Larxe''s interpretation.


    "What do they want?"


    "I don''t know, further instructions. Larxe is part of a movement trying to manifest it," said Fayn. "I think she plans to eat the Alpha if she actually summons it. Y''know, take her powers."


    "You mean like the Unborn God?" asked William as they approached another gate.


    "Something like that. Less omnicidal, more feral," said Fayn, drawing out her keys. "Larxe could have people cueing up to be eaten if she was just a little less completely insane. Neral Dinis keeps her decently channeled, though."


    They crossed a stone bridge, and William saw a vast hall beneath it. Unending hordes of undead were marching downward into black oblivion. Some he saw clashing with other vast hordes of different kinds. They tore one another apart little by little.


    "...Speak of Diabolus," said William. "How many of these creatures are there?"


    "Too many," said Fayn. "This area of the crypts isn''t under Neral Dinis'' control. The curse of King Anoa maintains the undead here. And the King of the Goblin King Redder. And the curse of Alchara.


    "Others have joined them over time. Although to be fair, they go to a lot of different worlds. This place is uh... detached from Erian.


    "There are a lot of curses on this place. And more are added daily from adventurers who don''t know what they are doing." They crossed the bridge, and she halted. "Hold on.


    "Corner." Turning it with axe in hand, William followed and saw the clear coast. Fayn, though looked up and down.


    "Never walk past a corner without checking it first, above or below," said Fayn. "More than a few people I worked with got knifed by skeletons or shredded by thorned vines. Others were killed by groups of adventurers who weren''t here to hunt monsters."


    "House De Chevlon uses many of them for transportation. But this region has gotten incredibly hectic." They continued on, climbing stairs now.


    "Do dwarves live in these tunnels?" asked William. How had all this been carved?


    "Well, some of them have mines that connect in the Border Hills," said Fayn. "But those tunnels are sealed by steel gates and guarded at all times. You''ve also got the Naker dwarves, but they sealed all the entrances long ago.


    "In fact, most entrances are. You''re lucky Saphra decided to let you in."


    "I was out of options," said William.


    Going through one last door, William stopped and saw a beautiful woman about Tanith''s age. She was clad in a dark leather skirt split on one side and bared an ebony-colored hip. Her hair was long and dark, and her eyes were sapphire blue, with a slender neck and toned arms. Her lips were painted dark, and she had the most enormous breasts of anyone he''d seen. Her midriff bared her thin waist while her torso was covered by a black leather top. Its neckline was cut into a low V. They showed off her-


    Do not focus on that; focus on her face, like those dark-painted, pouty lips and bright blue eyes. The lips were painted as well, and her eyes almost seemed to glow in the light. The eyes were likely the best choice to focus on. Sapphire colored, with a pale light.


    "Well, Fayn," said the woman. "I''m glad you''ve brought me my counterpart at last."


    William summoned the light of the sun''s spirit and saw that her skin was tan and the dark hue had been an illusion. However, he did not believe it as she came forward to offer a gloved hand.


    "You might know me as the Baroness of House De Chevlon. I am so very honored to meet you," said Saphra. "Though the last time we met, I was called Arraxia.


    "It has been some time, William."


    William knew that tone of speech. "Not long enough, milady."


    He took the hand.

 Chapter 178 - Thirty: Plots within Plots

    Silence reigned as William and Saphra''s eyes met in a challenge. Considering matters, William realized that this was as close to a person he could trust as anyone.


    "Saphra Delenay," said William. "I shall address you as such.


    "I believe you manage the affairs of House De Chevlon''s slave imports?"


    "And most economic matters as well," said Saphra, drawing up one black-gloved hand. She began to examine her slender fingers. "Vampires lose their ability to adapt quickly when they take power. It is one of their weaknesses that I must account for. Those vampires were base-level hunters. They were mere cannon fodder who joined for blood and immortality.


    "If they are not smart enough to flee before me when I command, they have no right to exist."


    "And which weakness led you down to the depths of this place?" asked William.


    "Unfathomable compassion," said Saphra, shifting one hip.


    "Yeah, I think you mean ''unfathomable compassion. And something else. You can''t afford to let the Heir to House Gabriel get rubbed out," said Fayn, crossing her arms with a smirk.


    "Well, William''s death would be inconvenient for me, I suppose," said Saphra. "But it''s dull to talk in such darkness; we should walk elsewhere." Then, turning around, her skirt flying around, she strode off. Her boots had long heels at the end. William and Fayn followed, and Saphra moved at a breakneck pace. William had trouble keeping up, though Fayn did not even in her armor. The two seemed familiar with one another, in a way William had not seen.


    Eventually, the tunnel branched out. On the right there was an iron gate, leading down toward red light. It was labeled;


    ''Forging grounds.''


    To the left, it was more humid, and the air filled with moisture, with tinges of moss along it. Saphra led them left, her clinging black outfit showing no signs of sway. He wondered if its only purpose was appearances, which indeed served that purpose.


    They turned left, ignoring an iron gate leading downward toward a red light. As they walked, they soon found themselves amid many flowers. The same flowers from before at that.


    "This place..." said William. "I''ve seen flowers like these before in Seathorius."


    "Yes, they''ve been growing here long," said Saphra. "They''ve been feeding on the undead that is destroyed. Those crystals above use have contained spells of sunlight cast by Neral Dinis. It keeps them growing."


    "To what the end?" asked William.


    "I rather like having my own pet garden of carnivorous plants. To say nothing of the Goddess at the center," said Saphra, stretching and moving her shoulders. The movement caused her breasts to shift appealingly. William kept his gaze on Saphra, remembering who he was talking to. She was a demoness.


    "The Flower Maiden?" asked William. He guessed that Saphra was using them to counterbalance against Neral Dinis.


    "Yes," said Saphra. "In more practical purposes, having her flowers is an excellent check on passage. And it helps prevent slaves from escaping and acts as a defense. We have, at times, come under attack from our further passages.


    "And as long as the gardens are down here, the curse on these lands is weakened. So you had some firsthand experience with that.


    "I did," said William. "I wonder why you haven''t removed Sylvar yourselves."


    "Is it the custom among human nobles to kill one another for being an enemy?" asked Fayn.


    "No," said William.


    "Well then, there is your answer," said Fayn.


    "Did Jehair help you with this? Or is she your opponent?" asked William.


    "Oh, she helps many people with many things, mostly for her own purposes," said Saphra. "I expect she has one agenda or another, but it is irrelevant. Something about destroying Harlenor, I imagine." And that was how Jehair won. She was beneath notice, and everyone died.


    Still, compared to Saphra, it was easy to slip under the radar. Moreover, she had a very magnificent presence. Eventually, they came to a final door and found Larxe waiting in a new white robe that concealed her just as much. She was crouched on the floor, smiling more naturally than before. Which wasn''t very, and since werewolves surrounded her, it would not last.


    "Neral Dinis awaits," said Larxe.


    "I am glad to hear it," said William. "Tell me, what is life like here?


    The answer seemed to annoy Larxe; she crossed her arms. "Not all that great.


    "A lot of screaming; the werewolf sleeping quarters are far too cramped. And you can''t go out hunting at all. There is only a little good game except for rabbits who survive. So you''ve got to go out all the way to the domain of Lord Tarsus.


    "That or east to the realm of House Korlac, and they hunt us. They seem to think we''re always planning to eat people."


    "Why did you seek service with him then?" asked William.


    "He has a lot of sources, and I''m trying to find the Alpha," said Larxe. "I''ve been seeking her all my life but always miss her." William highly doubted that.


    "Yes, yes, very nice, Larxe," said Saphra, walking beside her and cupping one cheek. Larxe snarled before Saphra drew a piece of dried meat from her bodice and tossed it. Larxe''s gaze went to it, and she howled and raced at her.


    Saphra caught her arm, grabbed her by the throat, and smashed her against the flood so it cracked. Six other wolves went at her, and there was an instant of flailing limbs. Then each one was smashed against the wall, the floor, or the ceiling. Larxe was up and attacking, and their limbs moved against one another.


    Eventually, Saphra caught Larxe by the throat and slammed her against the doors. Such was the force that the steel bent, and they broke inward to crash. Larxe landed beyond and stood up unsteadily to attack again, only to be floored by a final strike.


    "Ordinarily, we''d take the front gates; they are more scenic," said Saphra, walking up a set of steps. "But it will be far faster than us if we go through the slave pens. Clean yourselves up."


    William quickly healed Larxe and the others. They were too knocked senseless to do anything else. Once done, he headed after Saphra, considering the best policy to take her. The truth was, he saw no reason Arraxia had to go against him in this. Events here would only serve to undermine her as well as House Gabriel.


    "Where do you buy them from?" asked William.


    "Our usual channels have been hit hard by the abrupt peace," said Saphra. "And dear Arraxia has stopped supplying us in her infinite wisdom. It has forced Neral Dinis to get slaves from elsewhere." So that was it.


    Neral Dinis had been off from food and supplies, all but being put under siege. The High Priest had then been brought in to arrange to stock the larders. They would enslave Neral Dinis'' own people and sell them back.


    "Is there a danger of starvation?" asked William.


    "Not really," said Saphra. "Vampires can drink any kind of blood. And they can sleep in hibernation when there is no blood available.


    "But they have a natural fixation on human blood that gets worse. They can drink from corpses, but there aren''t many. And the howls of sharpened famine aren''t merely limited to this world. Everything is interconnected.


    "And everything revolves around me."


    "Arraxia wrecked everything," said Fayn. "Before she took power, the plantations and House De Chevlon got vast numbers of slaves. Usually from Seathorius. Dwarves, satyrs, and even some otters. As soon as she came to power, though, Arraxia shut it all down. She scaled back all raids and shut down all dealings with slavers."


    "Why would she care?" asked William. "And surely she is you."


    "It amuses me to sabotage my own plans sometimes. And because she realized how much the nation of Antion needed slaves," said Saphra. "If you want to wage war, my dear William, find your enemy needs. Then you deny it to them.


    "Now vast reaches of fields go untended. Angry soldiers who have been robbed plan retribution. And all the nobility of Antion are turning on one another like rats fleeing a sinking ship. There may even be a civil war, and this sad little nation will be lit again by fire.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    "I couldn''t have planned it any better myself."


    "Then you approve of the destruction of human civilization?" asked William.


    "Not in so many words," said Saphra, adjusting a glove. "And I am, technically, opposed to it. But, I just also like watching things fall to pieces for daring to cross me."


    "Do you know about the elves showing up here?" asked William. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes," said Saphra. "They landed in Sorn from Qur''Dana in small groups and came here by foot.


    "I allowed them to hunt the undead while keeping an eye on them. After that, however, they began to increase in number. At this stage, there is a small army within my borders. And they began flowing in long before Arkan began his hunts."


    "What do you think that means?" asked William.


    "I believe they were seeking to be lauded as heroes for saving the villagers," said Saphra. "And they had to throw their support behind Arkan because he got there first. Your amusing trail of destruction changed the nature of the game.


    "Before, no one was hunting undead or cared about Blackfear. Now several major powers are moving in."


    "And Lamech?" asked William.


    "A petty middleman with delusions of grandeur," said Saphra. "Of no real concern."


    "Doesn''t that apply to you too?" asked Fayn in amusement.


    "Tell me about these slave pens?" asked William, eager to change the subject.


    "If you wish," said Saphra. "Though there is nothing very interesting about them. All slaves were given enough food to survive and kept busy with important tasks. Those who perform poorly are ranked up in priority for being devoured. I also make sure some plants look threatening within the cells.


    "All of them are sedated before being devoured to prevent escape or murder of vampires. I ensure their holding areas are kept clean and have some color to maintain morale. A few shrines to various deities. Not pleasant, perhaps, but they are cattle to us."


    They went through several rows of empty cells. What struck William, however, was that even the occupied ones were clean. Straw on the ground was well kept, and everyone in them was clean, even if they had empty eyes. The slave pits here were better than any William had seen in Ascorn.


    "What is it?" asked Saphra.


    "These cells are larger than the housing for the plantation slaves. And far cleaner," said William.


    "Yes, very few things are worse for people than a tyranny exercised for the good of all," said Saphra. "Food for thought, oh avenging angel and healer of the sick."


    "Ever consider freeing them?" asked William, realizing he''d become an abolitionist.


    "Buying and selling slaves is my only real responsibility," said Saphra. "Besides, if I didn''t do it, someone else would. And they''d do something daft, like packing dozens of them into this cell or not keeping the place clean."


    "And you, Fayn, what further part do you play in this?" asked William.


    "A lot of the mines in the Border Hills have been shut down," said Fayn. "The undead and the plant creatures you saw have been spreading for some time. Many of them by the same monstrosities you saw here. I worked with Reginald and Varsus to purify one, and other mercenaries are trying their hand. But many of them are being killed, and most would prefer banditry.


    "It pays better and is a lot less risky."


    "Yes, I had intended to handle this myself, but I have many responsibilities," said Saphra.


    "I thought your only responsibility was purchasing slaves?" asked William. He wondered if she was aware of her own contradictions.


    "What do you think I am referring to, my dear golden-haired squire?" asked Saphra. "The entire market has become terrible. I have been traveling here and there to try and gain enough to satisfy the vampire orders.


    "If I don''t provide them the luxuries they want, they will do something ill-advised. And now Cirithil has tried to cut into my area of influence by going over my head. He didn''t even consult me when he tried to rally an army out here. Instead, he went to Neral Dinis.


    "Of course, I have gained an excellent supply of corpses for their use in emergencies. But they would consider that poor fair indeed."


    They were walking through apartments now with many dark-wood doors. There were no servants of any kind visible. An air of fear was about, but from who William could not say. They went up several flights of stairs, wood-paneled, luxurious, and very old. They creaked audibly in an old wood sort of way, but they seemed well-built. William saw a chandelier decorated with images of skulls.


    Until, at last, they came to a set of double doors. There was the image of a skull on the front, just between the two handles. It had a lock in the mouth, but the key was set within it.


    Here, Saphra and Fayn halted.


    "You are about to face the leader of House Dinis, a powerful vampire clan. Fear and respect are traditional," said Saphra.


    "I will deign to speak to him as an equal," said William.


    Fayn laughed. "Nice knowing you."


    The door opened without a sound. William entered a luxurious-looking area with sofas he hadn''t seen. He assumed they were from off-world. A window, far too large to be defensible, was looking out over the castle beyond. It seemed he was at the very top and had not realized it. Many kinds of wood were on the walls, well-read. There were also several lamps projecting the power of the sun''s spirit.


    On a sofa, in front of a table, sat Neral Dinis. A creature as black and terrible as any you could imagine. His flesh was pale like a corpse, though healthy, and he was completely bald. His eyes were utterly dark without pupils, and he had two horns coming from his head. He wore green robes, and one clawed hand held a book on gardening.


    "I present, the Lord of Darkness and Light, haunter of shadows," said Saphra with no sarcasm. "Lord of the Castle, and Proginator of House Dinis, Neral Dinis." And at his beckoning, she departed without a word. What kind of person could hold such authority?


    It did not matter.


    This was no time to show weakness. As William thought that, he felt Elranor tell him what to say.


    "So, you''ve parted company from Jehair and come here before me," said Neral Dinis, voice like a rasping wind of death. There was an echo in his voice as though his spirit spoke as well. "I wonder if you would not have been wiser to wander the crypts, boy."


    "Such a decision will depend on your actions, will it not?" asked William. "I am certain you know your own mind." Neral Dinis was formidable and William was feeling rather afraid.


    "That I do, but it is not wholly decided," said Neral Dinis. "Please, sit down."


    Silence.


    "Sit," said Neral Dinis.


    William did so.


    "I wanted to take the measure of you," said Neral Dinis. "Some among us think you a liar. So tell me, boy, how would you prefer to be treated?"


    "As the son of a Duke and a chosen of Elranor," said William.


    Neral Dinis halted. "...Well spoken. I must thank you for the amusement earlier, for both Larxe and myself. You have not made the people of this land lions, but they aren''t corpses yet.


    "Perhaps you can account for why you have been walking in the company of my most hated enemy?"


    "Which one?" asked William.


    Neral Dinis paused. "...All of them. At least among those present on the game board. For obvious reasons, Anoa the Bright does not count.


    "But it would be good to start with Jehair."


    "My association with Jehair is one of traveling companion and guide," said William. "She was selected for me by my mentors, Raynald and Rusara. I aim to go south to Gel Carn and participate in the Tournament of Kings.


    "I am also to meet with Adrian Wrynncurth to smooth over certain matters."


    "You seem to have become very sidetracked in that measure, human," said Neral. "If you had been heading to Gel Carn, you should have arrived a week ago, yet you are hardly halfway there from Ascorn. From what I gather, you seem to have disrupted virtually every plan in Harlenor."


    "Yes, well, I am a paladin," said William. "So it is my job."


    "I do not complain on that count," admitted Neral Dinis. "Most of your actions have served to injure my enemies. The worst you have done is speed up the loss of expendable assets.


    "Most of the forces you''ve destroyed have belonged to my enemies. And slaughtering so many of Arkan''s subordinates will be well worth it. Indeed, I''ve been able to drink many fighting men during that fray."


    "You mean Reg?" asked William. "As an expendable asset?"


    "I do," said Neral Dinis. "However, what concerns me is your presence with the Wood Elves. They have become far more active since you passed through there. I am concerned Jehair may be maneuvering against me through me."


    "Then I shall reveal all that has happened in my time, and you may judge for yourself," said William.


    "Well, the account may be interesting, at least," said Neral. "Would you care for wine?"


    "I do not think being social would be appropriate in these circumstances," said William. He drank from his canteen and wiped away his sweat. He''d only just realized how thirsty he was.


    "To each their own," said Neral.


    And so William explained everything.


    Again.


    Neral Dinis was a good listener and interjected only very occasionally. He was very interested in the Furbearers. William''s descriptions of Kata interested him a great deal.


    "Which do you think was the stronger?" asked Neral Dinis. "Kata or Sokar?"


    "I was hardly aware of Sokar''s existence," said William. "He kept himself under the radar while letting Kata lead. She seemed to do well at it.


    "However, I should warn you. You will face stiff resistance if you intend to push your claims to the Furbearers. Very few people in Haldren will be sympathetic to your beliefs. Spreading them there might lead to a crusade."


    "A point worthy of consideration," said Neral Dinis. "Go on."


    William did continue. Yet he rapidly began to think Neral Dinis had only a slight interest in this world. What interest there was came from recent events. Their meeting was a professional courtesy. Thankfully Neral Dinis did not seem to regard William as his primary opponent.


    "So, Rius had his hand forced, then?" mused Neral Dinis thoughtfully.


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "Surely you cannot believe that Rius did not know of the Babarassians and their outposts?" asked Neral Dinis. "Such arrangements would take many years of cooperation to justify. Nevertheless, I imagine he knew every location.


    "No, most port cities and towns tolerate a certain amount of corruption. I do not think Rius enjoyed your liberation of him."


    "My assessment was that he realized his error and chose to destroy them," said William. He did not want to speak ill of the dead, but it came out. "All we did was by his orders. It was strange that we should become his chief subordinates so quickly.


    "I see now that he didn''t have a real staff. Or otherwise, he was incapable of keeping their loyalty. All he knew how to do was call in foreign adventurers and turn them loose." It came about before he could stop it.


    Neral Dinis raised an eyebrow. "An odd statement from a Paladin."


    "Rius'' principal job was to keep order in Ascorn," said William. "All he did was take bribes and let people do what they wanted. But Tanith is the sort of subordinate you have to keep in line. She needs clear boundaries and direction.


    "Rius'' gave her neither, so she took over the city by accident. She can''t stop working and fighting; it''s how she hopes with the war. When he realized he''d lost control, all he could do was invite others in to fix his problems. That was as good as treason and could have led to war.


    "By the time he asserted himself, it was far too late.


    "And Sokar had as much the right to his blood as anyone ever did. With no offense, he used a similar strategy to you." William worried he might offend Neral Dinis by this.


    "What do you mean?" asked Neral Dinis, sounding more curious than offensive.


    "Well, Rius thought he was necessary and unassailable," said William. "He viewed his dominions as a distraction from his real interests.


    "The difference is that you are respected and feared. You have legitimate reasons to take the actions you do. And the losses you''ve suffered here really are minor.


    "Undead do not care about casualties. You can safely detach yourselves for a decade. Your use of Reg was quite skillful."


    "You mean to say that Rius was trying to be me?" asked Neral Dinis in amusement. "Without understanding why who I am makes me powerful."


    "In a way, yes," said William.


    Neral Dinis nodded.


    Eventually, they''d gone over the entire story together. William rapidly realized Neral Dinis was deducing much from him what he told him.


    "And what do you deduce from all of this?" asked Neral Dinis.


    "The plague was a result of the Healer''s Guild failing miserably," said William, thinking it over. "The enslavement of the Furbearers kept the Paladin Order occupied. Andoa is getting old; that''s natural.


    "Sorn profits a lot by it and has nothing more to do with things. So they know better than to directly meddle.


    "The nobility are discredited while the common people are devastated. And I''m given the destiny to normalize corruption that a lot of foreign goddesses push me toward.


    "The weakened remnants blame you or the nobles; your people are starved from Arkan''s siege. So they storm the place. Antion falls, and Escor loses support, but this can''t be Lamech. He''s not that smart and powerful. The Heir of Kings, at best, salvages what is left and accepts help where they can get it.


    "You''d need some sort of manager for all this. Someone very helpful, who hated you and has people everywhere. I think that the manager was Jehair. She knows everyone and is clearly trusted in virtually every area. She never breaks a contract; that''s why I''m still alive.


    "But, if she chose who she helped properly, she could enable the right people to set all this up. And with all the elves that mysteriously filtered into Blackfear and Faras engaging in battle with the undead..."


    Neral Dinis smiled. "Jehair turns Blackfear into an elven homeland."


    It all fit in perfectly. Yet William had not seen that last part, he hadn''t wanted to.


    He''d been traveling with her all this time, trying to figure out what she gained by it. William had all the information from near the beginning. Yet now he saw the pattern weaved since he''d left Gel Carn.


    Kiyora had been forced to get out of an arranged marriage between Kiyora and Ictargo. The seizing of the Furbearers, the plague in Antion, the subversion of the nobility. That had all happened within the gaze of elves. They had observed all of it, and pulled the strings to make them turn out how they desired.


    All done without direct responsibility for any of it.


    And all this time, William was supposed to be unknowingly shielding her. Someone to vouch for her while she was with him every step of the way.


    "Jehair..." said William, voice furious.


    William paced back and forth, quiet anger coming over him. His hand clenched, and he looked at the dim light out the window. What if Kiyora had married Ictargo? Alchara would control Seathorius.


    "Jehair..." said William, voice furious.


    What if the plague had gone unchecked, and Antion had fallen? The plague Jehair knew and planned around. It would have all been divided among criminals like Arkan and Lamech.


    "Jehair..." said William.


    What if the elves had liberated Blackfear by force of arms and pinned the blame on Neral Dinis. As Antion collapsed around them, who could complain about them coming into their own? And with the Sornians pleased by a tidy profit from selling weapons.


    Lamech and Cirithil would have seen the population of Harlenor sold as slaves to their own kind. And William would have provided cover for Jehair as his homeland was divided and given back to the elves. The dream of Anoa, of Harlenor Reunited, consumed, and bartered away. The birthright of his people had been squandered.


    William would have vengeance for this. One way or another.


    "Well, we''ve seen them all now," said William. "The priests are pigs, the elves vultures, and the criminals a pair of serpents.


    "And this serpent is finally ready to seek its vengeance."


    Neral Dinis nodded. "Indeed.


    "And we have a common cause in this. I do not like having my kind starved to death by thieves. Nor was my title as a Lord of Antion treated with contempt. You and I have much work to do."


    "I have only one condition," said William. "It must be a just revenge." And he knew it was Elranor speaking now.


    "Well spoken," said Neral. "Yet first, we must choose our moment and method. In this matter, your revenge and my revenge must be one and the same."


    So it was that William found himself in the heart of Castle Blackfear in alliance with a vampire.

 Chapter 179 - Thirty-One: Seeds of Revenge

    Rage had overtaken William, which was a rage that was not his own.


    He walked within the gardens of Neral Dinis, finding a beautiful and well-tended place. Yet he still saw no servants. Instead, Neral Dinis was tending to the planets with a set of players and looked with interest at them. He culled one limb unbefitting his purposes and pulled up weeds where he found them.It would have been surreal.


    Gel Carn could wait.


    "Where is everyone?" asked William.


    "Sleeping because they have been starving," said Neral Dinis matter-of-factly. "We''ve been in prison, you see."


    "If you and Korlac had cooperated, you could disrupt Arkan''s control," said William. "Atravain has stood alone this whole time. Had she been given help, her draconian approach would never have been necessary. Korlac hung his own brother rather than cede authority to thieves."


    "Yes, and I once knew a Kosriv Korlac. He was named by a Mother from Stalken. He distinguished himself in battle under Andoa the Bright. And he had an extensive professional interest in vampirism. So we often spoke at length, and I met with his sons.


    "Eventually, he decided it was not for him." said Neral Dinis, kneeling by a patch of earth and digging in it with clawed hands. "Corruption in those days was part of the job. First, Korlac usurped his brother with perfect legality. And afterward set to motion hanging all his political opposition with equal legality. All of them were, by default, corrupt." His hands cleaved the earth like a knife through butter, and he began to draw things up.


    "This was around the time Vanion Gabriel disgraced Borinius. So noble''s heads were not so sacred. But, of course, Vanion wasn''t rewarded for that; he''d disgraced the nobility. Soon there was a power vacuum, and Kafka used that to indulge in his worst impulses." From there, he began to draw several lumped brown vegetables. "Ah, potatoes.


    "Imported from foreign parts you now. Very healthy food for humans. Alas, I cannot eat them and never got the chance. Saphra has quite a passion for cooking, you know." He placed them into a nearby basket as he did.


    "I did not know that," said William, not seeing his point. "What of House Korlac?"


    "Arthur and Korlac then cooperated to get rid of the criminals. Arthur was the only person who wasn''t corrupt, you see. He''d been appointed to spite Vanion, but Vanion hadn''t begrudged it. But too many powerful and rich people were making money from it all. So they pulled in Arkan and, little by little, seized control of Antion and the surrounding towns.


    "During this, Vanion slipped into Artarq. He proceeded to write a series of damning reports of Argath''s actions. Frequently reminding everyone that he was the one who won the Battle of Desora. It had been agreed that Argath would run it, and all his behavior had been standard.


    "But Korlac hated House Marn as usurpers and regarded them as foreigners. So he jumped at the chance to destroy Marn. What followed was a protracted legal case that bankrupted Marn. Moreover, it badly damaged the finances of his house. Vanion disappeared off to Themious with a small band of heroes. There was also an individual named Hadleim, notable in Gel Carn and well-liked.


    "Raynald, Rusara and also Kafka and Edmund Telus."


    "Surely that would be a matter of some alarm?" asked William.


    "Well," said Neral Dinis. "There were certain destined powers that proclaimed it. Vanion had nothing to do with that, of course. Raynald and Rusara were the ones Arengeth wanted, but they would be kept from Vanion. So Edmund knew him and liked him, and the journey began.


    "Vanion assumed command of the entire thing. Azgora chose to marry him, and they returned here. Once that happened, Vanion was the leader. When Vanion returned, Argath Marn was bankrupt, and Artarq fell to pieces. So Vanion assumed command without consulting anyone. From there, he used his band of heroes to put down several revolts. The Calishans had their own problems, but Khasmir satyrs charged over the border. Vanion smashed them and installed loyal monarchs within each one.


    "It is an interesting period of history, to be sure."


    "And you''re not upset?" asked William. He found himself surprised by this.


    "I enjoy gardening," said Neral Dinis. "My associates are asleep and dreaming. Sooner or later, things should turn around, and I will awaken them. But I have lived long enough to see such things pass. There is little point in becoming upset over what will soon be dust in the wind. Everyone alive will be dead, sooner or later."


    "But surely this is a betrayal," said William. "You, as a vampire, may not care. But you, as a Lord of Antion, ought to."


    "What are you suggesting?" asked Neral Dinis, looking back.


    "I am not suggesting anything," said William. "Only there must be payment for this crime, and there will be. The books have to be balanced."


    "Has it occurred to you that I might seek vengeance on you?" asked Neral Dinis. "Certainly, you have had a part in what has been done."


    William considered his next words carefully. "I speak in grand theory, Lord Dinis. And that bears consideration."


    "It does," said Neral Dinis. Then he smiled and picked up the basket. "I used to hunt live games. However, the hobby became tiresome. There is less adrenaline in it, but I see the appeal. But first, there is someone I have been holding. A Reg Hawkthorne. What would you have done with him?"


    William shrugged. "Release him, of course." He remembered Ham''s assistance earlier; this would be repaid.


    "As you wish," said Neral Dinis. "I don''t know what Rius expected of me, but apparently, he thought it would buy favor. It might have if he wasn''t dead. There are always lessons in the death of a man. It reflects his life. I shall give him back to his Father. Shall we?"


    They waited in a little indoor glade, surrounded by bright plants with the sun shining down. William sat without his armor, and none of his enemies had seen him without it. So here he sat in a white tunic that was a bit worn. Neral Dinis was clad in a fine uniform, looking at a heart-shaped locket. It suited his pale flesh as well as hoped and reminded William somewhat of Letan Marn.


    Arkan Lantan entered the room first, clad in cloth armor, a spear, and a short sword. He had a guard beside him, a slight violation of protocol. Yet he noticed William, calculated, and nodded. A moment later, the guard departed. "A tactical error on my part. Seemingly of benefit."


    "Yes," said Neral Dinis in amusement. "It has been.


    "Tell me, Arkan, when a person forces decades of starvation on your populace, when they strip away the most basic elements to life and liberty. Do you think sufficient recompense is given just because they were a good person all along?" S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Arkan paused. "Lord Dinis, we both know your people operate on different principles."


    "I would suggest," said Neral Dinis. "That this arrangement must be made based on one Lord to another."


    Arkan sat down. "I see your point." He looked around. "You tend these plants yourself?"


    "Yes, it is a job I enjoy," said Neral. "I often think that our primal senses are how creatures truly live, rather than flesh or blood. That is the price of undeath."


    "A poetic view on things," said Arkan. "My Father had gardens like these but did not tend them himself. He fought many naval skirmishes in the old days.


    "Defeated many pirates. At least before he went mad with drink and revelry. The only statue in his honor is the one I raised for him with money raised in support of Antion."


    "Ah," said Neral Dinis. "That is not my nature. On the contrary, human beings desire to leave a mark because they will be gone soon.


    "Undeath gives one the luxury of time. Human beings often ignore physical pleasures until it is too late. Or become so consumed by them that they never know what they are. It is an interesting dynamic."


    At that moment, Saphra entered, wearing a pink apron over dark garb. William had never seen her submit to a person before. "The food is ready."


    "Ah yes, give my compliments to the cook and let them in, Saphra," said Neral Dinis. Somehow William felt the cook was in this room and felt a sense of affront.


    "Does one dismiss the Baroness De Chevlon as though she were a servant?" asked William suddenly. A risky move but one he felt obligated to make.


    "Well spoken," said Neral Dinis. "Saphra, by all means, sit down as is your right."


    Saphra nodded and did so silently.


    It was all wrong. Arraxia never felt obligated to be silent about anything. William finally understood why she was so vicious and vainglorious in Seathorius. This was far beneath her. William quickly moved beside her as if as a bodyguard, switching seats as he did so. There were several others.


    "Alright, I''m here," said Tavish as he walked in.


    This was a dangerous moment.


    William was curious to know if Tavish had seen him without his helm. He''d worn it whenever possible, and they''d worked together only briefly. Even so, his scar was quite distinctive. Tavish halted, looked to him, then to Neral Dinis, and sat down without comment.


    He knew.


    It was almost impossible for him not to. Arkan had also met William face to face, but Neral Dinis'' didn''t know that. So William was a distraction.


    "Now then, gentlemen, all the usual rules of hospitality apply here," said Neral Dinis. "Jehair, come in."


    Jehair entered and saw William with Neral Dinis. Her eyes widened, and she looked very old, though her flesh was unmarred. As though she had been betrayed. Felix came in just behind her and drew out a notepad.


    William looked to Neral Dinis, and Jehair sat down as well. "I am here to represent the people of Blackfear, who you have betrayed."


    Which left only the snake.


    "Guard, open the door now," said a voice.


    "Yes, your grace. At once," said Suran''s voice.


    "Hurry up; my time is worth something. Yours isn''t," said the voice.


    Imposing dominance on someone only doing their job. Bad leadership, and the door opened to reveal Cirithil. Who did not look at all like he''d just fled like a coward from a battle he''d started. Very noble and magnanimous, completely unaware they''d heard him at the door.


    And after he came a sunny-faced, blonde boy William''s age wearing an orange and yellow robe. He had no weapon and was smiling, but his eyes were gazing carefully.


    "Who is this?" asked Arkan.


    "This is Nagos, an associate from Namina," said Cirithil. It was spoken with a deference William did not believe. A man who cursed the gods to their face respected no one. "He has certain opportunities for us in this matter."


    "Gentlemen, I am here to represent my government, nothing more," said Nagos.


    "What is this foreigner doing here?" asked Tavish, annoyed.


    Everyone''s attention was now focused on Nagos.


    A distraction. A garishly dressed foreigner to put on display to keep people''s contempt off Cirithil. While he was present, Cirithil could operate. But why did Nagos cooperate with this? It didn''t matter.


    "May I inquire," said Saphra. "Why the magnanimous Lord Cirithil has decided to involve King Nagos. Especially since he was neither invited nor known. Your letters spoke of him in glowing praise. But I do not see that he has anything to do with our business."


    "I''ll stay quiet if you want," said Nagos. "Unless you want me gone, of course." Nagos looked at William, and William realized he knew exactly why he was there.


    What hold could Cirithil have on him that would force him into this? Well, William couldn''t say anything yet.


    "That is quite alright," said Neral Dinis. "Please dine with us. The food should arrive shortly. And you do not look to have eaten."


    The food arrived, and it turned out to be very good.


    Simple but good, and it was a pleasant evening. William kept his Black Sword out of sight, but it didn''t matter. Everyone already knew him, except possibly Cirithil, who just sat there. He ate little and listened intently, and he seemed completely different from who he had met.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Yet not in a good way.


    The conversation went on about many things, including gardens and chess. William mirrored Cirithil during it. But why? William was important, but not in this context. Cirithil was in a position to socialize, and socializing was all he''d done before now. Was he seeking to atone for past mistakes?


    That seemed unlikely, given his behavior outside.


    Some sort of reaction.


    "That Black Sword you carry, Sir Gabriel," said Nagos. "Where did you get it? I haven''t seen that color before?"


    "I knew it," said Tavish. "The scar."


    "I thought to keep a low profile," said William.


    "Your voice is less rasping," said Tavish. "What are you doing here?"


    "Being outmaneuvered by Arkan," said William with a shrug. "But, perhaps I should answer the question." He glanced to Cirithil, whose gaze became one of more hatred. William returned it in kind as he stood and broke it only to go around the table.


    William offered the sword to Nagos, who took it.


    "This I gained running a demon named Laughing Wraith, though," said William. "The blade broken into many pieces. But it was reunited and reforged."


    Nagos took it, holding the blade carefully. "I''m not a warrior. But this is heavier than most swords. It is burdened by misery and sorrow."


    "A Paladin is a man whose task is to confront sorrow and misery," said William. "We endure that others may find respite for fighting it when we are gone."


    "Do you believe in peace?" asked Nagos.


    William hesitated. "No."


    "Why not?" asked Nagos.


    "Because peace is a wasteland. One where nothing lives and nothing interesting happens," said William. "The grass is in rebellion against the wind. The land rebels against the sea are kept in check by violence."


    "I am familiar with Naminaen notions of harmony," said Jehair. "They were an immense help to my people once. But, unfortunately, the nature of the world was such that we had to embrace a destiny as warriors."


    "Jehair," said Nagos. "I''m glad to see you again. I was afraid you were dead." There was something in that exchange below the surface. A recognition of sorts. Perhaps they had met in another life.


    "Not yet," said Jehair, smiling slightly.


    Now Cirithil looked almost like a feral animal as if what happened had enraged him. But, actually, he didn''t really look like Cirithil at all for a moment.


    Yet he didn''t change position at all. Just stood there, waiting.


    "About what you said, Sir Gabriel, the constant revolution will make a wasteland as well," said Nagos. "Conflict is like a stagnant pond. But if it continues forever, there will be no pond at all. Harmony is a Father that must be respected. If you flee too far into the wilds too often, you will starve."


    "I suppose one must define harmony," said Arkan. "But Nagos is correct. This is going too far. We''ve got five hundred men wounded out there. This was supposed to be a peace meeting, and we had a pitched battle."


    "I recall that Sir Gabriel started that battle," said Cirithil.


    "That is absurd, Cirithil," said William. "I was simply doing what was necessary to save the nearby villages. The ''peasant revolt'' was calculated to make the roads safer and gain respect. You commanded the venture and took chief place.


    "I had only a supporting role."


    "Isn''t this a calculated maneuver, though," said Nagos.


    "I am a Paladin," said William. "If I am not making a stir, I am not doing my job. And I''m here because a pack of werewolves arrested me."


    Laughter from everyone except Cirithil.


    "Right," said Nagos, smiling slightly. "Anyway, we can all agree things have gone too far."


    "Yes, we do," said Tavish. "The problem is de-escalation. Now I''ve managed to settle things well with Atravain. Haldren could be a problem, but that''s not my jurisdiction. But House Korlac is starting to move. There are rumors that they''ve been assigned a position of influence in the city. If they get there, the hangings will never stop."


    "Indeed," said Arkan. "Korlac has been taking notes on every little crime he can. They say he has volumes upon volumes of evidence. He would need testimony from a few major sources. And our organizations could be destroyed."


    "Like Lamech?" asked William.


    "Lamech, what about him?" asked Tavish. "He''s in prison, isn''t he?"


    "He walked out," said William. "And he was planning revenge on me before Arkan interceded. So he already betrayed our position."


    "Lamech was acting on my behalf," said Cirithil. "Investigating the murder of my priests. It was apparently a Ham Hawkthorne, killing them off for cutting him off in traffic."


    William would have loved to throw the crimes of the High Priest out. But no one would care in this company.


    "When water is drained from one place by man," said Nagos. "There are consequences." That was overstepping himself.


    William considered looking at him and then just focused on his meal. Cirithil began to eat for the first time since he''d been here. Saphra ate as well, though she obviously did not enjoy her cooking. That was right; demons could not experience worldly delights like food.


    "This is excellent," said William.


    "Thank you," said Saphra. "Humans do not like to dwell in Blackfear. Most of us are focused on Antion. Thus it is generally best to prepare one''s own meals."


    "Yes, well, I raise a glass to our hostess," said Arkan.


    A toast was held, and Cirithil reluctantly did so. What had Saphra ever done to him? Did he just oppose being kind to other people on principle?


    Was the man truly that hollowed out? How? The gods did not do such things, only demons. But there was no taint from him. Was he seeking a personal vendetta with William? Surely his humiliation could be easily avenged elsewhere. And it was a result of his own actions.


    And how had this change happened so suddenly?


    Or was this who Cirithil had been all along?


    If so, why the deception? To corrupt those around him.


    "Let us discuss the money," said Cirithil.


    "Very well then," said Arkan. "Most of the money that we make is reinvested in markets. The general goal for my organization was to gradually go legitimate. Legalize the businesses that we focus on and own everything. The goal of all merchants, really.


    "Now, House Gabriel has dealt us several defeats, which is not bad. However, being defeated is an important part of running a successful Thieves Guild. If the law is perceived as completely toothless, the ''bad'' thieves all take over.


    "Then you have gang wars, and everything falls to pieces. You need groups of adventurers to come in and disrupt things. Kill off the worst aspects of the Guild and save damsels. Add one or two loveable rogues, and people turn a blind eye.


    "The way things stand now, we''re becoming the villains.


    "We already have prepared exit plans for ourselves. That and exit plans for our subordinates can be handled individually. However, we have a number of outstanding cash stores we could not invest. So you can only do it slowly, or people notice signs; it must all be done by proxy.


    "These stores have to be dealt with. Either moved to a different location or invested in some safe store."


    It was obvious where this was going.


    The High Priest was immune from the law. The High Priest could put the money into the statues that could be melted down. He could invest it, and they could gain some benefit in return.


    "So give it to charity," said Tavish. "Bank the entire amount to Her name."


    "Her?" asked Arkan.


    "Arraxia, Queen of Seathorius," said Tavish. "She''s rebuilding an entire castle. That will take a great deal of money and skilled labor.


    "She''s publically declared herself the ultimate god, and the satyrs believe it. And she isn''t connected with anyone in Antion. So let''s just give the money to her and deduct it from our taxes. Andoa put in all those regulations about charity; let''s use them."


    What was he doing?!


    Saphra looked vaguely interested for the first time since the conversation began. Mostly because people were finally talking about her.


    "It does not work that way," said William. "Arraxia is not formally recognized as a God by Antion. She has no temple, no priests. And if you give her that kind of money, she will use it. She is a dangerous warlord and the nemesis of the Dreaming Goddess.


    "She''s only just carved out a power base for herself in Seathorius. And while she does not technically break her word, her help goes no further than it. She is petty, vindictive, and has a god complex."


    "So, you think the fact that she is competent, well-connected, and a threat to you means she is a worse choice?" asked Arkan, generally motioning toward Cirithil. However, it could also be Neral Dinis.


    William thought about how he could answer that without supporting Cirithil. "There seems to be no choice. It is not my money, after all."


    "Now," said Saphra. "Perhaps we discuss the subject of reparations. And also, those delightful villagers you stirred into a frenzy."


    William considered what would be best. Jehair spoke first. "You could try ignoring them."


    "Ignoring them?" asked Arkan, raising an eyebrow.


    "I see," said Neral Dinis. "Just leave them in peace to starve in whatever way seems best to them? I have previously done such strategies, but a firmer grip may be necessary."


    "Perhaps you could give Saphra authority over them," said Arkan. "They could be a good trade alternative to the King''s Road. A couple of ways stops would be useful. And she is technically the Baroness De Chevlon."


    "Some have been displaced from their homes," said William. "Efforts to return her property might be in order." There was a stunned silence. Obviously, no one present could believe what they were hearing. "Many of the people have been taken from their homes unjustly.


    "It might be worth consideration."


    The stunned silence continued.


    It dawned on William how vile the people in this room were. Tavish was obviously considering the angle, at least. Saphra and Neral Dinis were indifferent. But Arkan and Cirithil could not comprehend what they were hearing. Jehair looked like one who had been in his position. No wonder she hated the human race so much.


    "If you don''t need me, I''ll leave you to your schemes," said William finally.


    "Of course," said Arkan.


    William walked out the door and remembered what Neral Dinis had told him. Lamech should be quartered in a room a little ways off with orders not to come out. Now, what to do?


    "Thrown outside too, then," said Suran, leaning against a wall.


    "Yes," said William. "Suran, what are you doing here? This seems beneath you."


    "Well, my Paladin powers have been ringing like a bell in my ear," said Suran. "My tour of duty in Ascorn ended when Sokar assassinated Rius. After that, Farwa was my commander, but she was reassigned. I had to eat, so I signed on with the High Priest as a bodyguard.


    "What was that about, anyway?"


    Explanations took some time.


    Suran obviously didn''t fully get it, but he knew enough to be disgusted. Eventually, he shrugged.


    "Well, whatever you did, you played it well," said Suran. "This was supposed to be a shakedown where Arkan got concessions to use the tunnels. Now though, it''s looking like an even match, and Jehair should be able to negotiate good terms for the people. Were you actually working for him?"


    "Well, I knew Neral Dinis and Arkan were going at it," said William. "And I was more or less opposed to Arkan and his associates, and Raynald De Chevlon sent me. So, in practice, yes and no."


    "I suppose the end result will be better," said Suran. "If that''s all you care about."


    "What exactly do you expect me to do?" asked William. "Slay them all me and product a functioning nobility waiting in the wings."


    "Nothing!'' said Suran. "I just...


    "This all leaves a bad taste in my mouth, is all. There wasn''t any need for any of this.


    "Aren''t you going to listen?"


    "I don''t need to," said William. "Cirithil forgot to dismiss Felix. He''ll tell me anything I need to know. And I''ll write things down myself."


    Suran nodded. "Neral Dinis played this beautifully."


    "Is Lamech around?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Suran. "The High Priest decided to keep him out of sight, though. In that next room."


    William nodded. "Would you agree he has a place at this meeting?"


    "Yes," said Suran. "They seem to like his sort of company. Why?"


    "I think I''ll go talk to him," said William.


    "Bad idea," said Suran. "Lamech has already decided he will stick by the High Priest. He''s trading up."


    "Hardly," said William. "They''re equal partners at this point. Cirithil just doesn''t know it."


    Walking around the corner, he opened the door and found Lamech sitting in full armor on a bed, looking out of place. He seemed to be expecting an attack and standing by polishing his sword. Once done, he raised his sword, and William raised his sword.


    "Lamech, my old friend," said William with a perfect imitation of sincerity.


    "William, what is it now?" asked Lamech, sheathing the White Blade.


    "I thought you might like to know that Tavish is in the next room," said William. "He thinks you''ve ratted on him and is out for blood, even here. If you were to enter, it could make quite a scene."


    Lamech met William''s gaze.


    He knew precisely what William was doing, but it didn''t matter. He was a Blackguard, and an opportunity to cause pain and misery was his. He had to admit that this was for personal gain if he did not take it. Then he not be motivated entirely by spite, and money would have power over him.


    "...Damn you," said Lamech, walking past him. William looked to where Suran stood up tall.


    "I apologize, had to settle a personal vendetta and got side-tracked," said Lamech. "Open the door."


    "Yes, sir," said Suran, opening it.


    "Thank you," said Lamech before marching in. "I believe I warrant an invitation, Cirithil."


    At this moment, Tavish rose in rage. "Lamech!


    "You filthy rat! I''ll carve you to shreds for snitching us out!"


    "Wait, Tavish, don''t!" said Arkan.


    And Tavish sprang out, knife in hand, while Lamech went to meet him. The blade and sword struck in a blur. It was clear Tavish was excellent and faster than Lamech. But Lamech knew how to predict his moves, so soon they struck back and forth like lightning.


    "Stop this!!" said Arkan. "Now!!"


    Cirithil smiled.


    But Saphra raised a hand. "Larxe, detain them at once."


    That was when a group of werewolves dropped down from the balconies above. Larxe caught Lamech''s sword between her hands and held it there. Two other werewolves grabbed Lamech and forced him down from behind. At the same time, Tavish was gripped by three. "You''re both under arrest."


    "He attacked me," noted Lamech.


    "I don''t care," said Larxe. "Take both of them to their cells."


    "Surely we can pardon them in this-" began Arkan.


    "No, we will not," said Neral Dinis. "We shall simply have to continue discussions without them. Now then, Arkan, I believe you want sanctuary in this domain. And Jehair wants security for it.


    "Well, I''m first going to need a ready supply of bodies to feed my thralls, taken legally, of course. And we should speak of compensation for damages rendered. This military campaign of yours has caused me a great deal of damage. Perhaps you could provide it."


    "I already have your assurances of safety for the people. Therefore, I will depart immediately and trouble you no more," said Jehair shortly.


    Nagos looked with sympathy at Arkan. "Can we remove the guards, please?"


    "I''m afraid that''s not negotiable," said Cirithil. "We must be prepared for another outburst."


    So now Cirithil had turned on Arkan to extract concessions from his earlier loss. Suran looked on in disgust. William looked to Felix. "Felix, make sure no harm comes to anyone."


    "I understand," said Felix.


    The door shut as the two were escorted out.


    "That was a dirty trick," said Suran.


    "Tavish will be released," said William. "Or so.


    "Neral Dinis'' does not want to cross King Gavin. I already put Lamech in prison once. This time I think he''ll need help to walk. He ought to have never been released from prison in the first place. He had murdered several knights already.


    "Paladins you may have worked with.


    "As for Arkan, he already sicced Larxe on me. This was why I was at the table, to invite Lamech in. He and Tavish worked well together, and Lamech instantly sold him out. Tavish treats his subordinates decently, so I thought he''d take it personally."


    "So the whole thing was an elaborate ruse to get Lamech and Tavish out of the room," said Suran. "Are werewolves often used as police? City watchman, I mean?"


    "Not to my knowledge," said William. "Though Neral Dinis did mention something to that effect. It makes sense; they can smell things well and move about quickly. They could serve well if they could control their bloodlust. Arkan has just been put in the position he meant to put Neral Dinis in."


    "His actions are mostly defensive," said Suran. "This is why using contemptible means to change the world is useless. The means create the ends."


    "Is the pay worth it, Suran?" asked William.


    "Better than back home," said Suran.


    Suran laughed. "I''ll take your word for it."


    William had never looked into Cirithil''s eyes. Why not? In fact, he has yet to directly address Cirithil, not since their first parting. It just didn''t seem proper, and he wondered why. Should he address him directly?


    He was the High Priest.


    Well, there was no time for it now. Jehair and Felix met him at the gates, and Massacre was sleeping. Things seemed better out here, the greener a few birds, but still desolate.


    "I have a complete record of the meeting," said Felix. "Nagos'' support has let Arkan hang on to some wealth, but he had to cough up the locations of some of his treasure troves. Cirithil is sending men to collect them now. But Nagos managed to arrange the release of Cirithil''s taken slaves, such as there were. I think both will want to stick to something other than the bargain.


    "There will be blood for this, I''ll tell you."


    "Why has no one killed that man?" asked Jehair. "Nature would never allow such a creature to exist."


    "It seems to have," said William. "And there is precedent to consider."


    "Oh damn precedent," said Jehair, walking. "There is something evil about him. I didn''t see it before, but I feel it now."


    "How would you want to be treated?" asked William. "If you were in Cirithil''s position?"


    "You loathe the man," said Felix. "We all do."


    "Well, I don''t have to like a person to have consideration for them," said William. He was trying to remember what Cirithil looked like. It was harder than it ought to be. "And what about Arkan?"


    "Well, I imagine he''ll lose his assembled fortune," said Felix.


    "Meanwhile, Tavish is now severed from Arkan, leaving him only with Lamech," said Jehair.


    "Then we may see some very bad men hung," said William.


    "Where to now?" asked Felix.


    "Gel Carn can go straight to hell!" said William. "The Tournament is off!"


    And he walked toward Fenus'' Inn.

 Chapter 180 - Thirty-Two: Decay

    No one said anything.


    Massacre met them lying in a road, and they walked together beneath fading trees as the wind howled. The road went from cobblestones to dirt and here and there were ruined towers. Cursed places where ghouls stalked and men dared not tread. These they destroyed out of principle, but they did not venture below. And now and then they had to fight off attacks.


    "I don''t have a problem with this," said Larxe. "They aren''t my ghouls or Neral Dinis."


    William called a halt to eat as things began to get dark. Larxe was munching on a rabbit she caught by hand and was not sharing any. When she finished, she threw it to her wolves, each taking turns biting from it. For his part, William ate what he had been eating this whole time. It was a kind of track that did not make you thirsty and reasonably easy to eat.


    Uncle had given it to them, and it tasted far better than the stuff from Artarq.


    Eventually, Larxe offered William the rabbit.


    "Eating raw meat is unhealthy for humans," said William. "We have to cook it, or we get sick."


    Larxe looked disappointed. "Suit yourself.


    "So, what is going on?"


    "Yes," said a soldier, coming forward. He was a massive man with a beard around his lips and a scarred face. His head was bald, and he had huge muscles. "What is going on?" He was a Sornian man and looked bitter. "We came here to help crush a rebellion, and you Harlenorians sick your dogs on us."


    Larxe stood up, and her wolves did as well. The men held their ground, and things seemed about to go ill.


    "Let me explain," said William.


    "Why did you sic that creature on us?" asked a man accusingly.


    "I sicced them on the undead," said William. "It was either that or be at Cirithil''s mercy. And he called you here under false pretenses."


    "You weren''t here to crush a rebellion," said Jehair. "You were here to help enslave the population of Blackfear so Cirithil could sell them as slaves."


    Silence.


    "Jehair... explain," said the man. "Now. What is going on?"


    And that was how William was abruptly drawn into a lengthy explanation of his adventures. And he had to do it several times, starting over as more troops came by. It was fortunate that no one seemed to particularly care for Cirithil.


    However, William gathered that no one had been enthusiastic about putting down peasants. Since Anoa the Bright''s laws, peasants did not exist. There were only commoners with training as militia. Cirithil''s actions were viewed as a tyranny, and most of them had taken his payout of desperation. Nonetheless, negotiations would be tense if William hadn''t had a chimera with him. And he felt very bitter about inadvertently causing the battle.


    "His actions don''t require defense, Finn," said the swordsman from before. He had appeared suddenly. His dark hair fell around his gray features.


    "What do you mean?" asked William, hesitant.


    "You acted according to your contract," said the swordsman. "You are obligated to escape and complete your mission. Our contracts put us at cross purposes. Therefore we have no quarrel."


    "We lost the contract because of them," said Finn, stretching his arms.


    "I had orders not to deliver William Gabriel to anyone but Saphra De Chevlon or Neral Dinis," said Larxe. "Cirithil is nothing but a frontman." And she took another bite of rabbit.


    That settled things.


    "And you are?" asked William.


    "Garrick Estov," said the man. He was short for a dust-off, and William caught scale armor beneath his cloak. His sword was giant, almost as tall as him and half as thick as his body. How did he wield the thing? It was more like a straight cleaver. "Where do you go now?"


    "At present," said William. "I have been considering turning around. But, unfortunately, I''ve faced a lot more resistance here than expected. And I''m concerned I may be killed."


    "I see your point," said Garrick. "Had you time to collect yourself, you would realize you are very near Gel Carn. You need only get over the Border Hills and then over the river. I will be going there to the Tournament of Kings. I wish to observe the fighters."


    "Fenus won''t be able to pay you," noted William. "So unless you want to bargain for land, you won''t be compensated. Though there are many lands out here if you could get rid of the taint."


    "I say we get our payment from Cirithil," said Finn. "He owes us big for this."


    "Either seems reasonable to me," said Garrick. "It might be wise for us to speak with the other captains and agree on a united front. If all goes well, we shall profit extensively from this."


    William had no doubt that Cirithil''s ill-gotten gains would all be eaten up by transport costs. He didn''t have a ready supply of labor to go find it, with the citizens of Blackfear being his enemy. And even if he went out to find more, every day he waited was time Arkan could use to relocate the money.


    The High Priest would gain virtually nothing by his evil deeds. But then, money had never really interested Cirithil. On the contrary, he seemed to enjoy taking advantage of Arkan more than the benefit he got from it. Somehow, William doubted that Cirithil cared about his gain so much as another''s loss.


    "Something wrong," said Garrick.


    "Don''t work for Cirithil," said William. "The man is evil. Whatever contract you make with him will likely be violated. Assuming you live long enough to demand payment."


    "He may be right," said a tall, orange-haired woman in leather armor. "This contract has just been one disaster after another. I think we should seek a more reliable employer."


    "There is a difference between money and value," said Garrick. "One can only understand the worship of Coinfurth once they know this difference. I am concerned with value. Sir Gabriel, there are standing stones on a hill near here. They should be safe, for they belong to Isriath. Will you follow me?"


    "I will," said William.


    Garrick led them on, but Jehair looked on in distrust. They moved off the path and came up onto a hill, where there stood three stones. They jutted out of the greening hills like jagged teeth where they rested. There they were, eating and drinking from their supplies. Neral Dinis had given them black bread, which was challenging and hard.


    "What are these standing stones?" asked William.


    "This was once a gathering place for the common fairies to Gel Carn," said Jehair. "They used to dance here, or so it is said in old tales. Anoa the Bright, though, drove them out. Now they no longer gather anywhere, and only the trees remain." She looked up. "The aura of darkness in the place is gone.


    "It''s just a dusty old set of ruins filled with bones."


    "It is at this stage irrelevant," said Garrick. "Cirithil interrogated Arkan to get access to his illegal goods. "Cirithil has defaulted on his debt to me. And now pretends as though there was no arrangement. He refused to sign a contract earlier and pretends not to remember."


    "What was the promised pay?" asked William.


    "Something appropriate for one of my power," said Garrick. "I often work with verbal agreements. And I wanted to judge his character. Arkan was always honest insofar as his position allowed."


    "What was your arrangement with Neral Dinis?" asked Jehair.


    William explained that part in total. He hadn''t gotten to it before though he omitted the apparent position of vengeance on Jehair. Larxe stayed away from the stones, sitting on her haunches with gloved hands on the ground. Her blue eyes were peering unblinking in the light, and she said nothing as her wolves came up behind her.


    "A legal attack?" guessed Garrick.


    "I made it a condition of cooperating with Neral Dinis that the attack is made honorably," said William. "Since we have an excellent means of attack in that direction, I see no reason he would not cooperate. My Father has always taught me that bloodletting is a simple solution."


    At that moment, there was a flash, and Kiyora appeared in black pants and a shirt. She landed and kneeled down cross-legged. "Hey, William."


    "Kiyora, where have you been?" asked William, accustomed to her being in and out.


    "Oh, moving this way and that," said Kiyora. "I just directed a guy named Joseph Korlac to a pirate cove near the coast. Lots of stolen treasure and slaves, and Korlac is having all the pirates hung. They were carrying malas."


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "An alternative shipment from Khasmir, no doubt," said Garrick. "Do you profit by this?"


    "Yes," said William. "But not in money."


    "This is hardcore," said Kiyora, looking on in interest. "Oh, when you''re done here, William, I''ve got a job for you. Long story short, a band of murderous satyrs lives some ways from here. Find their hideout, kill them all. They''ve been raiding the countryside and have killed quite a few people.


    "Came in to join after the undead started fighting people. I think they were put up to it by priests, or so Tyrasa says. You know her, right? She says you do."


    "Why?" asked William. Why had Tyrasa referenced him? He''d only met her briefly.


    "Eh, I''ve seen their handiwork. But, doesn''t exactly scream redeemable," said Kiyora. "No women or children, but you can judge for yourself. They''re a bandit gang.


    "Follow me; I''ve called in some people to help out.


    "Oh, um, might want to know; there''s some church guy there too. Cirithil, I think."


    "What?!" said William.


    "How is that even possible? We haven''t been moving that slowly," said Felix.


    "He might have had the meeting set up in advance," said Garrick. "If he rushed off the exact moment after we did and rushed for the Black Mountain without stopping..."


    "He could outpace us," said William. "He was never this fit or determined before."


    "He might have the support of Neral Dinis or some other power," said Garrick. "If so, his progress might have been sped. Someone has a serious grudge against humanity."


    "It doesn''t matter who it was," said William. "We cannot allow our own people to be sold as slaves. Get moving, now. I''m going to try and rustle up some more help here."


    "I am not going with you," said Garrick. "I have seen the people of this land. They need to be stronger and have real value. It is good that they began resisting the undead but took measures too late. It is against my principles to go to their rescue."


    "Why you heartless son of a bit-" began Kiyora.


    "Kiyora, calm yourself," said William. "I thank you for the conversation, Garrick. It was enlightening, and your help here has been invaluable. Gods protect you."


    "You as well," said Garrick.


    "Well I won''t be pulling for you, Garrick," said Kiyora in a huff. "Last I saw, the satyrs were arguing about price. This is going to take a lot of work."


    "I''ll see this for myself," said Larxe thoughtfully.


    And shot off in a blur.


    "Damn that woman moves fast!" said William.


    The path took them over the ruined stones with a haze of blue. The stars were coming out little by little, and they moved on anyway. Hours of labor passed without complaint, and yet William felt himself becoming tired. The Black Mountain in the distance grew nearer and nearer, and they passed many towns.


    Each had been seized, and old men and women were killed and thrown on the ground. Some had been torched and looked at, but all the corpses were old. Empty village after empty village went between them. One or two who held out spoke of satyr raids coming in the last night. They asked William to free the satyrs.


    "I go to save the people the satyrs have been taken," said William. "Who will go with me?"


    No one volunteered.


    "No one?" asked William. He''d been expecting cries of enthusiasm.


    "It''s not our village that was taken," said a villager. "We''re in this for ourselves." And there were murmurs of approval.


    "Why should we care about you, knight?" asked one. "We''re not dying in droves just so you can take the credit."


    "What of vengeance for your countrymen?" asked William. "Those taken and even now being sold for slaves!"


    "What of them?" asked another. "We don''t know them. And now their land will be ours. Neral Dinis can''t get rid of all of us."


    "Fine," said William. "I hope you remember those words when you''re the last village they come for! I''ll go on alone if I have to! You may remain in your hovels and rot!"


    Garrick had been right about this lot at least.


    William got a similar reaction from several villages. A few were more apologetic about it all, and he could not blame them. But, oddly enough, the chirping of birds had gotten louder and louder. They saw wolves at night, not all of them Larxe''s. There were vultures and bears, all gathering in numbers he had never seen.


    The hills thinned out, and they were finally drawn to scale up rocky slopes. It was easy to hide here, but there was an old path. Jehair took them along it, and it had been cut from the rock long ago. However, all the cobblestones that had once been there were wiped away.


    "Where is Massacre?" asked Felix suddenly.


    William looked around. "She''s gone, I think. Gone off before we met those villages."


    "Perhaps she thought you''d be able to gather forces from the villages," said Jehair. "She''s not a tame chimera best friend."


    William did not laugh, though he appreciated the attempt at humor. Yet it occurred to him that this was Jehair''s responsibility. She was known here and must have known of what was happening. How weak they were.


    Yet effort had yet to be made to strengthen them. She was a spirit of this realm and had a vendetta against humanity.


    "I think the warrior spirit of Harlenor has waned greatly in Antion," said Jehair. "When King Andoa phased out the militia system, hardly anyone had actually abided by it. Only now that the wolves have come out do they realize their mistake."


    "I resent that remark," said Larxe. "We wolves have always been here. And we only eat humans if we''re really desperate. Not really worth the hassle.


    "Except for the Alpha, of course." Right, the bloodgiving werewolf god.


    Jehair was rationalizing her actions.


    "You truly are completely neutral, aren''t you?" asked William, looking at her.


    "I am a druid," said Jehair. "It is my job to be neutral. Perhaps we could seek aid from Farwa-"


    "This has nothing to do with the elves of Qor''Dana," William stated quickly.


    Coming along, they then saw the city. It was the city William had seen before in his match with Isriath. Though it was a burned-out ruin, it still stood, and all the ages had not beaten it down. It had a tattered beauty, with once bright walls turning gray. Elegant spires were broken here and there, though it was not much larger than a large village.


    Yet it was defensible and well made. William felt sad that it should have remained in ruins for so long. Had it been a mark of respect that had made Anoa declare this place to go uninhabited? Or was it simply unnecessary? Or had he just felt that it would not be right?


    Whatever it was, what he saw before it in torchlight was an abomination.


    There was Cirithil, illuminated by two torches and in new white robes. His hair was ragged, and his face strangely pristine. Around him were many men inclined to be fat. They had guards who looked more like thugs and had a sneering disposition. Some looked dead-eyed or bitter, and their gaze kept going up to a field of stakes raised upwards before the city.


    To one side were satyrs; many were drinking and dancing, and some were fighting. Many kegs of beer had been set up around them. And beyond them were ranks upon ranks of people in chains. Priests were holding them.


    "A peculiar satyr tradition," said Cirithil as if in a sermon, and he motioned to the stakes. There were lump shapes on them. "Not to my taste, but ultimately a legitimate ritual. We must tolerate other faiths as we bring them into the light.


    "What we have here is an outstanding achievement. These satyrs will now profit immensely from us as enforcers. Using them, we shall end the regrettable era of violence. We will enforce a civilized, thrifty class of commoners. Naturally, there will have to be more regulations, curfews, and binding to the land.


    "The old ways of free movement from one land to another must be put behind us for security.


    "Unfortunate, of course. But they have used their freedom to attack legitimate business interests." William was drawing nearer now and having a horrible feeling about the lumps. Cirithil hadn''t even gone after the treasure; he''d come directly here. "These here will serve as a demonstration. To enforce discipline on an unruly population. There will be some resistance from... problematic members of the nobility.


    "I''m sure Elranor will understand our concerns." Clapping from the men as William approached the stake, Cirithil raised a hand. "After all, when you look at it from the right perspective.


    "This, too, is of the gods." And he motioned upwards.


    William Gabriel saw what was on the stakes. And he saw the blood-soaked merchants avert their gaze. Instead, they congratulate one another on future profits and vision. They looked more like pigs in the light than men, feasting on meat sticks as they squealed in praise. Their voices could not distract, however, from what he saw there.


    "Babies," said Jehair, eyes wide and handshaking as she saw it.


    "Give the order, sir," said Felix, putting a hand to his sword.


    "Don''t talk damned nonsense," said William, and for the first time, he looked at Cirithil. Really looked, and he knew why he hadn''t done it before. Every bit of hatred and wrath at the injustices around him poured out at once. "All your ways have been evil, Cirithil! Betrayer of your church, murderer of your flock! Debaucher of young girls and slaughterer of your kin!


    "Your people clapped in chains and your sermons but falsehood for worthless minerals! Employer of monsters!" He motioned to the merchants. "Benefactor of ghouls and butcherer of the innocent! You have betrayed in spirit every law and custom of Harlenor! And now used the corpse of the bride you murdered as a shield!


    "Even as you plot to usurp the gods, you should view them as masters!"


    Cirithil smirked in triumphant self-satisfaction. The satisfaction of a man who has seen the worst of sins and cares not. The very notion of empathy for murdered children was a subject of scorn. "What of it?"


    These men, these creations with a divine spark, laughed.


    Laughed and laughed uproariously as though it was all the funniest thing in the world. All the merchants laughed as they pointed at him as though he were a court jester. Laughed, laughed with mocking scorn at William. At Elranor, at the very concept of good itself.


    And then, all of a sudden, Cirithil''s eyes widened, and he wasn''t laughing anymore. His voice caught in his throat, and he choked out a cry of dismay. Then he stepped back in terror. A hoarse, wailing scream came from his mouth as he backed off and fell to the ground. Rolling on the ground, he wailed, and the merchants looked around in alarm.


    At that moment, the satyrs ceased their revelry and drew swords. All of them raced toward the merchants whose guards abandoned them at once. But the guards did not get far and soon were surrounded and forced to fight. Madness overtook all of them as they hacked and slashed so that soon there were no sides. Just men killing other men, cutting eyes, and choking throats.


    Their eyes were dead as if their souls had already gone to hell.


    The priests, staring in horror, dropped their chains and fled up the mountain.


    But even as they did, Felix and Jehair were in front of them, weapons readied and out for blood. They turned but found Coalmarsh and Ata appearing to one side with villagers with pikes. And no quarter was given when the priests howled for mercy this time.


    Now there were only the merchants, snatching what goods they could and running.


    Out of the rocks came wolves and beards and birds of all kinds. They descended on the satyrs. Soon they were tearing them apart with a rage uncharacteristic of animals. Jehair was with them, and the battle soon scattered. These satyrs were unlike those in Khasmir; they had no real courage and fled. Yet their eyes were pecked out by birds.


    The merchants were fleeing down toward the towns. But Larxe and her werewolves came up the mountain with rage. And with them were many hungry vampires. The merchants pleaded and sobbed for mercy in vain as the feast began.


    Blood was drunk in rivers as a great feast ensued. The screams of the survivors raised to high heaven, and William could feel nothing. Larxe and her kind remained separate as husks that moments ago had been men shattered on hard stone. Their fine clothes were all that marked them as the vampires shrank away with the coming of dawn. Finally, the beasts left, and Jehair and Felix sat down to rest. Meanwhile, Coalmarsh and his men freed the terrified slaves.


    They were unhurt.


    That left only Cirithil raving and screeching on the ground. Blood poured from his eyes and fingernails as he raved and babbled.


    "Cut them down, for Elranor''s sake," said Coalmarsh to the freed slaves. "Give your children a decent burial."


    Then William looked to one side and saw Maius looking bitter as well. She wore now simply, natural white. Moving over to her, he halted. "Was this your doing?"


    "Not the stakes," said Maius. "I didn''t plan any of this.


    "All I did was set up a trading system years ago. Years. Satyrs don''t value money, so I convinced some merchants to bribe them with beer. Get them to go away, or use them as mercenaries. It worked for Lord Tarsus; I never thought this would happen."


    "You are a god," said William. "But you do not control how mortals use your gifts. So these people will need all the help they can get."


    "Yes," said Maius. "They will."


    "Who let Cirithil do all this so quickly?" asked William.


    "Isriath owed him a favor for the brothels," said Maius. "We can''t break our word. All he asked was that he go swiftly and uncontested.


    "We didn''t control what he did with it."


    Isriath appeared then, clad as though for the morning. "What now?"


    "Isriath," said William. "This land can long stay unoccupied. These people will need a home. That fortress is as good a place as any.


    "Will you allow them to dwell there for a time?"


    "It is the least I can do," said Isriath. "I shall speak to Elranor and speak to them in turn."


    And Isriath went to Coalmarsh, who was tending to the funerals. His conversation appeared to have been observed. And many of those men who had come with Larxe were sharing a bitter drink. Some of the villagers went to join them after the rites were complete.


    "Who gave them this beer?" asked William.


    "The Naker dwarves," said Maius. "They trade for slaves so they can use them to till the fields. That way, they can all be craftsmen and warriors. Lord Tarsus abolished slavery in his land, but they went by their own laws.


    "Amazing what happens when you''re drunk. Everything seems right with the world until it isn''t."


    William moved over to where Cirithil had begun to gnaw at the post while sniveling. He looked like an animal. He was less than an animal since he was hurting himself. His hands were bloody from scraping at the ground.


    Coalmarsh approached and looked torn between being sick and satisfied. "Well, all he ever wanted to do was disgrace his position and avoid responsibility. So I should say this satisfies all parties."


    "What will do with him?" asked William.


    "Put him in a Sornian asylum and pretend he''s still High Priest," said Coalmarsh. "It isn''t as though he minded any of his responsibilities. And the last thing we need is one of his friends taking his place." Then he kicked Cirithil away from the post and tied a rope around his neck. Cirithil bit him, and Coalmarsh snapped.


    Coalmarsh backhanded him across the face. Then he kicked repeatedly in the gut in a rage until Cirithil screamed in terror. Then, grabbing him by the hair, Coalmarsh smashed him against the post and let him fall.


    "Shut up, cur," said Coalmarsh. "I would kill you on the spot if I didn''t balk at the thought of your potential successors. Better to have a madman for High Priest than the alternative."


    Given the situation, William could hardly hold it against him. Moving forward, he healed Cirithil on reflection. He wasn''t even sure why he did it, so he looked to Ata. "You have no objection to this, Ata?"


    "The man named Cirithil died a long time ago," said Ata sadly.


    William shrugged. "I would not presume to meddle in church affairs.


    "Who runs the temple now?"


    "Me or no one, I think," said Ata. "Most of the proactive members of the clergy have been killed by now. They used their healing as cover for making business arrangements. There are still Rundas and Bishops, but they have their own lands to mind. And Rundas has been talking about going into hermitage.


    "Seeing Cirithil in his full glory has sickened him.


    "All of the others are up-and-coming initiates.


    "So I am now de facto High Priestess by being the only one left. Coalmarsh is from the Haldrenian church, so he can''t do it.


    "You know, he did import some lovely art. Had good artists made it?


    "He never looked at any of it, though. Not once."


    And they walked off, carrying the unconscious High Priest to an eight-by-eight cell. The posts were cut down, the children were buried, and the people of Blackfear began to build a shelter.


    It was not enough.


    William looked to Larxe, who nodded. Then, moving over to Jehair, who looked older than ever, he halted. "Are you alright?"


    "I think I''m going to die soon," said Jehair. "Mentally, anyway. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The Jehair you see in a bit will be younger. I''ve seen too much."


    "Well," said William sadly. "I think we can gain retribution for some of this before it happens. This seems to confirm what we suspected about Tavish''s outpost up there. These men must have come over the mountain."


    "Yes, you''re right," said Jehair. "It is now the lynchpin of their operations. If we find it, all we need do is reveal its location. Once that happens, a guard can be posted down here and regulate the trade route.


    This may be less of a stalemate after all.


    William looked to Larxe. "Larxe, we''ll need you as a tracker. We''ve thieves to hunt. First, I want to find the outpost they set up on the Black Mountain."


    Larxe smiled happily. "It''ll be a pleasure."


    William had the feeling she''d be wagging her tail if she had one.

 Chapter 181 - Thirty-Three: The Duel

    Larxe led them on quickly and quietly and seemed changed somehow. Her expression was contemplative as she ambled up the slopes. As the moonlight shone down, wolves howled at it, and she turned her gaze upward on the slope. For a moment, she was framed by the moon''s light, like a vast shadow. Then she hunched down to smell the ground and rushed on gloved hands and booted feet, moving like a wolf.


    She would wait for them to catch up now and then, yet she did not speak much.


    All the werewolves seemed different. Something about the horrific event they''d seen had been of immense importance. Almost a divine revelation.


    Which it was, of course.


    They had been starving and fed with their enemies'' blood. And it had been the right thing to do. The vampires and werewolves had been the heroes and were rewarded. They have been given what they desired with approval from Elranor.


    "What will you do now?" asked William. "After this?"


    "The Alpha has spoken to me," said Larxe. "We must shift our bloodlust to more subtle means. Our wrath is satiated differently.


    "Now, let''s find something to kill."


    William had no idea why these events were of significance to her. But it was not wise to judge a werewolf.


    Up the slopes, they went at a rapid pace, moving through the trees on the craggy slopes, covered in moss and crabgrass. The cliffs above them glared down in the fading light as trees clutched their heels. Trees looked down from above near the peaks and gazed upon them, providing cover. Behind them, the city of Isriath now looked genuinely insignificant. And those working there looked sad and miserable, clinging to life and what hope they could. Isriath''s music played throughout the hills but was of little comfort.


    "It is a beginning," said Jehair, looking half-dead though she was not slowed. "It''ll make a good trade outpost. And it is better that we found it than Arkan or his ilk. It has been founded by slaves instead of slavers, a least."


    Suddenly, Larxe tensed and growled before dropping low. Everyone did the same. William went down too quickly and banged his knee, feeling aches from the road. How long had he been traversing this path? He was exhausted. He became aware of the clanking of his armor and the sweat on his body. His eyes were unfocused as he tried to stay low. Larxe glared at him.


    "What is it?" asked William.


    "There are watchers up ahead," said Larxe, sniffing. "Massacre, stay behind, you''re too big, and they''ll see you coming. Follow me, and don''t make a noise.


    "Take that armor off and ditch it."


    "But-" began William.


    "Now!" said Larxe.


    William nodded. "Felix, help me with this."


    Taking the armor off took time, and he hated to strip it off him. Every piece he took off him made him feel more and more naked. Even so, the weight coming off him was heavenly, and with each fallen piece, it improved. The aches and pains that built up over his journey were lessened as he shed the last.


    Now he stood only in his white tunic and pants, with dirt-stained books and sweat. The cool night air on his face sent his hair flying as he breathed the free air.


    Larxe eyed him carefully as he drew off his helm and breastplate, now clad in his tunic.


    "You''re cute," said Larxe. "I was expecting someone a lot leaner and more... wolfish."


    "I''m pleased you think so," said William. "Felix, guard the armor. And wait for us here."


    "Right," said Felix. And he began putting the armor carefully into place.


    They hurried up the slopes as the evening went on and became less tall. William''s aches were pressing at him, and there was only so much he could do with his healing magic. He wondered what he looked like and if he looked anything like he had when he left the port of Arsheen with Tanith. It seemed like such a long time ago, yet virtually nothing had changed.


    Everything was the same as before, only with different names.


    Or was it? Had William changed things? The people he had healed were better off. Elranor must have been using him to achieve his designs.


    But now and then, they saw men with bows looking out. Larxe slipped out from under them, knowing every stone. It was a rocky and desolate place, leading ever higher and left of the peak. The winds whipped through their travel-worn clothes to chill them. But Larxe pressed on. At last, they came over a rise into a shallow part of the mountain.


    There they saw the fortress.


    It was built much the same as the city Isriath had lost. Yet it had a stockier base and was tall rather than wise. Lookouts were on every turret, and William could see convoys approaching it from the other side. In the distance, William saw the Haldrenian straight. And also Ascorn, looking nearer than it was. To the west along the shore, he saw Magicora of the same design as the fort. Yet it was new and wonderful, with stones that coursed with magic and shimmering lights.


    Many of the convoys were coming from it, and they were stopping at a nearby village. It was walled with stone but not defensible. William guessed that the dwarves who dwelled there would flee into the fortress. Yet they had no fields, and William guessed they''d had a trade for some time. There were two smiths, and the oxen were being used to haul cargo.


    That was bad news. It meant they had contacts and had been here for some time.


    "Why would no one have known of this?" asked William.


    "They probably only shipped legal goods," said Larxe. "Merchants had likely used this path long before Tavish did. Those archers are dwarves.


    "They probably kept the malas off to avoid notice. Likely until they had more control of Blackfear and contacts in Escor. Not a lot of market in either place for malas or other poisons. The King of Escor would never allow it.


    "Make camp."


    Here they made camp such as they could. Larxe and her wolves sheltered under the trees and huddled together for body warmth. William set out to a camp, satisfied that he''d learned to do it, and enjoyed the rest. The earth here was soft and springy, far better for resting on, and he felt relieved to have the chance.


    Some of the more rested wolves were sent out as scouts. And more werewolves were coming up behind them in the night. They came with an immense speed, and William wondered how many there were. Larxe was pacing back and forth in frustration. Meanwhile, Jehair meditated with her knees crossed. Her arms were crossed under her breasts, substantial even hidden by cloak. Her hair blew as she gritted her teeth. Normal teeth except for fangs.


    She''d almost be cute if he had not been born witness to her bloodthirsty nature. Jehair, meanwhile, looked older than ever. They ate in silence, Larxe tearing through meat wolfishly.


    "Why scents?" asked William after a moment.


    "Once we have that," said Larxe. "We can follow them to where they make their deals. If they are doing anything illegal, we''ll crack down at once. And we''ll lose their backers a lot of money."


    "Why do you appear human?" asked William suddenly. "None of the other werewolves have."


    "I prefer my human form," said Larxe. "I don''t need to be a wolf to smell and devour, and I''ve trained myself to do both in human form."


    "Do the others have names?" asked William.


    "Maybe," said Larxe. "We don''t much care for names. I speak for us, and Neral Dinis commands. That is all we need."


    "I''m surprised they built this fortress on the eastern slopes," said Jehair. She motioned down toward the village. "It looks very well defended, but how could they support themselves?"


    "They likely import it," said William. "This place would be an ideal location for a smuggler base. And with the coves we found around Ascorn, they could likely move food in secret. Especially with Rius refusing to do his job."


    "I say we sack it," said Larxe with a smile. "Come back with an army, kill them, and drink their blood. What do you think, Jehair? Just like you did to the old Malice sixteen years ago." Her tone was filled with hatred, and the old bloodlust was returning. And she was smiling in joy, an odd combination.


    "I have no desire to repeat your humiliation Malice," said Jehair.


    "What are you talking about, Jehair?" asked William, seeing Larxe on the verge of a leap.


    "I killed the old Malice in single combat," said Jehair. "And I nearly died myself.


    "It took a great deal of effort to maintain my current identity. My work had to be completed. I guess Larxe is remembering."


    Time to change the subject. "In any case, we can use them, Larxe," said William. "This base operates by secrecy. Sack it, and they''ll rebuild it and start again."


    "And it is of the same design as the one Isriath built, a mix of elvish and human architecture," said Jehair. "Good defenses, but not modern. All we have to do is mark every convoy that goes through.


    "With everything that has happened, Arkan will be down to his last few ventures. If his next shipment run doesn''t work out, he''s done. Savior''s Run will be his only lifeline."


    "Won''t they just kill him then?" asked William. It seemed like something Thieves would do. Although at least he knew Vorn''s plan would further damage their enemies.


    Best not to mention that here. It could get out.


    "They can''t," said Larxe. "Or we''d have done it a long time ago.


    "Arkan is a royal servant. Murdering him would be an attack on the crown, so they wouldn''t dare do it. But even if we intercept the convoys, they''ll just use our race against us.


    "Who will believe a werewolf."


    "...What if you work for John Korlac," said Jehair. "He has needed power for some time. You could be invaluable if Neral Dinis'' makes an alliance with him.


    "Your sense of smell could run down every vagabond."


    This seemed like a very dangerous triumvirate. If Jehair worked with Larxe and then coordinated with Korlac...


    It would be the essence of simplicity to shift Alchara''s plans. William would have bought a delay, nothing more. Jehair was eyeing him carefully, looking wizened and bitter. Either hoping he would not notice or hoping he''d let it happen. If this worked, Korlac would be strengthened at the expense of Neral Dinis.


    Larxe was looking at him too.


    "Once the money runs out, the enforcers will look for a better deal we can supply," said William. "Vorn is already setting everything up.


    "We need Korlac for this, though, either way. An official representative from his House to make sure you are credible. House Gabriel has already thrown down too many gauntlets.


    "What about the money Cirithil shook Arkan down for?"


    "It''s all gone, assuming the transfer happened," said Larxe. "Cirithil owns it, and Neral Dinis is a witness, as is Arkan. But Cirithil is insane, so it should be inaccessible. At best, Ata is the one with control over it, and they can''t publically attack her.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Arkan could question Neral Dinis'' and me as witnesses, but then we''d have occasion to seek open war. We have a contract." She was very smart beyond the bloodlust, wasn''t she?


    All of her actions had been performed correctly. Only her constant rages had dragged her down. And even that had been put to excellent use.


    William had severely misjudged her.


    "Well, we have set the precedent that the High Priest cannot be attacked," said William. "And also sent a message. So, at the very least, we''ve staved off the fall of Antion a while." He stopped.


    The fall of Antion.


    Antion was falling, physically and in spirit. The nation was in decay, collapsing in on itself. Something had to be done to save it, something drastic. All this was only treating symptoms.


    In this triumvirate, there were three people.


    Jehair is a Druid and elven patriot with criminal connections.


    Larxe, a creature of darkness who could be of use and was reasonable.


    And William, an up-and-coming noble of a powerful house trying to achieve respectability.


    All had won a partial, difficult victory and could try again. None of them had given up.


    One of them would be destroyed, or the situation would repeat.


    Jehair was weak right now, but she was making stabs at an alliance with Larxe and, through it, Korlac. If this happened, she''d destroy her criminal connections, and Antion would be secure. Of course, at that point, House Gabriel would be the outsider, and they''d have to settle accounts. That would leave the Heir of Kings as a mediator to fix everything.


    If all went well, the peace would hold until the Heir of Kings set things to right.


    But all would not go well. Jehair'' history was mired in treachery, and the High Elves could not be trusted. House Marn could utilize this to discredit a rival and lose his position in Artarq. It would be all too simple to blame it all on House Gabriel, as an outsider no one trusted. Proper politics could stave it off, but House Gabriel would face all the same challenges. Perhaps even worse.


    And they would never be Kings.


    "Let''s get out of here," said William. "I don''t like that tower."


    Everyone could agree on that.


    They headed down fast and met Felix to retrieve his armor. William did not put it back on yet, and they hurried down, meeting werewolf envoys. Larxe stopped only to send off one person or another on a mission. Reports came in regularly. Several convoys had gone out by secret roads, and many were carrying malas or other drugs.


    Taken from smugglers near Desora.


    Apparently, business had been very bad for malas smuggling since Father came in. But it was about to get much worse. Larxe was sending werewolves to get the names and identities of their contacts. She also sent messages to Korlac, seeking statements of support in her efforts. Very soon, if things went well, they''d be sweeping up most of the contacts in the villages.


    For his part, William arrived back in the city and stood behind Jehair. The people were working now. They were planting fields and trying to find good places to grow while eating rations. The bodies from the earlier massacre had been burned in a pile, and the people had taken the weapons.


    They had lost their children.


    Infant babies murdered by Cirithil and the satyrs.


    Because of Jehair.


    She''d traveled this same route many times and seen everything put into motion. Her help to him had only happened because of what he had done.


    It occurred to him that Jehair would get full credit for his actions. As the more experienced warrior, she would naturally be considered a leader. Especially since she was less politically controversial, the glory and honor afforded to House Gabriel would go to her.


    Just as Jehair would get credit for his operations with the gnolls, the night passed.


    A few words could make his healing obsession be something done at her behest.


    Jehair is the hero of this story. The elves would be the hero.


    Instead of a hostile takeover, the elves would be selfless heroes that saved Antion. Not the scheming masterminds who nearly engineered its downfall. There was Jehair, looking at the rebuilding with a smile. As though she''d earned it rather than had it taken from her clawing grip. This would be an elven city if she''d had her way, and all the men would be dead.


    "Isriath''s people are rebuilding quickly," said Jehair. "There are no old men or women to drag them down." As if the elderly were fit only for destruction. And William looked to the greening lands and could see the stories told. The story of an elven resurgence that checked Neral Dinis and saved Antion. "There will be many children to replace those lost here, but it won''t be the same."


    "No, it won''t," said William. Everyone would just cooperate with all this. House Gabriel would be a footnote. Left outside as upstanding citizens who needed no thanks. Meanwhile, the elves take all the credit and thanks when it was their fault anyway.


    Antion owed them nothing.


    Harlenor owed them nothing.


    Everything they had been given here was a gift they had to repay to House Gabriel. But they''d just shrug it off as reparations. And the credit for them would be given to Antion as a whole. Even though they''d done nothing but do their jobs too late. Jehair would scheme against Neral Dinis anew.


    It would all go right back to the way it was.


    "There will be a city and towns and, in time, felled trees," said Jehair, adjusting her grip on the scythe. Trying to tell him or herself it was worth it.


    "Are these the reparations of the guilty, blackheart?" asked William, drawing his sword.


    Now all eyes were finally on him. Larxe looked up in surprise as William took a stance. A tense silence went over them as Jehair turned, and William knew she had thought the inverse.


    "I prefer to see it was a just reward for services rendered," said Jehair.


    "A villain escaping justice, and you call it a reward," said William. "You''ve done nothing to earn it; save undo some of what you have done. I have.


    "This is my story, and you''re the villain."


    Dawn was breaking, for a day and night had passed, and he had not noticed. Now as the early morning grew to full light, Jehair readied her scythe. Taking a stance, she looked young once again. "You''ve done well, I''ll admit. You ruin the schemes of the wicked with wondrous brutality. Cirithil driven mad and gnawing at grass, Arkan and his associates bankrupted. Furbearers assassinated Rius while your hands remained clean.


    "Is it my turn now, William?" She smiled, and there was a new face to it.


    "It is," said William.


    Jehair'' smile faded and was replaced by a thing of pure rage. "Well, before you claim victory over my corpse, can you defend yourself, Paladin!!"


    Jehair backflipped into the air, scythe surging down, and he felt the wind of it near his ear as he moved away. Yet she was coming at him, hacking and slashing with speed and grace, fixed with a fury worthy of a satyr. Yet his blows were calculated and stronger, and her arcs were predictable. One he turned as it arced around, then another as it went at his legs. Finally, a strike at her shoulder was blocked, and they met strength on strength.


    So they circled on a hilltop beneath the morning light as the people looked up. The sun gazed down as vines grew up and moss covered the rocks. William lost his footing and was shoved back, and landed hard. Yet he knocked Jehair''s scythe away, rolled to one side, and struck. His blade grazed her shoulder but cut only cloth, and she stepped backward, spinning her scythe as she did. Vines reached to grab his arms, but he slipped away and slashed them.


    Jehair healed her wound, slashed, and William''s wounded over his eye reopened. Now half-blinded by blood, William knew he could not defend himself like this. So he roared and attacked, swinging his blade with heavy strokes. Jehair was driven higher up the slopes and soon went into rocky terrain. Shiftly, she spun around his strike, but William allowed himself to fall into the dirt. Her counterattacked missed and cleaved the earth, cutting a sharp furrow.


    Rising, he stood and drove her back, attacking her with rage and hatred he had never felt before. Down the slopes, they battled, and Jehair could not move as nimbly as before. Her injury weakened her more than him. Finally, forcing her scythe up high, he raised a leg and kicked her in the chest. He nearly lost his footing, but she fell backward into the dirt and tumbled away. Her scythe spun through the air to land blade first in the ground.


    She went for it, but William rushed down, raising his sword to take her captive.


    Even as he did, her body evaporated into rose petals, and William stepped back as the petals flowed around him. Some of them seemed to caress his face, almost gently, as sunlight gleamed down from above. A moment later, Felix called a warning. Ducking low, William felt the wind of a scything passing near his neck. Turning, he slashed upwards as he saw Jehair spinning through the air. Her scythe was glowing blood red as it passed him, and she twisted away from his blow.


    Passing one another, William found his legs grabbed by vines growing up from the ground. Throwing himself backward, he hewed at them as Jehair passed over him. Finally, the vines broke, and she turned to strike downward. Felix hurled William''s shield, and he grasped it, catching the scythe as it fell.


    There was a clash, and the blade was repelled. Stabbing forward, William saw that Jehair''s hair was now completely golden. She laughed as she danced away, and petals of flowers bloomed out of the air. Spores poured from the petals, surrounding them as Larxe and her wolves were repelled.


    "Can you feel fear, Paladin?" asked Jehair.


    Suddenly she burst into petals as the entire area was shrouded. The petals scattered as more of them formed into three Jehair''s. Two had scythes of wood, and only one had a scythe.


    "What is this?" asked William.


    "A blessing of the Flower Maiden," said Jehair. "The land and I are one, and my being can reform with her flowers. I created a duplicate of myself before our battle began.


    "I was interested in what you would do."


    "A meaningless effort," said William. "One who will not walk abroad among his fellow men will change nothing."


    "And nothing changes," said Jehair. "I have seen all that you have seen, over and over. I have walked this hell for forty years.


    "And I will end it!"


    All three Jehair''s surged at him. William ducked and weaved, trying to keep them from surrounding him. Blocking a scythe, he nearly lost an eye. A flower rose up behind him as whole fields were being made manifest. It revealed a maw of teeth as Jehair tried to drive him into it.


    He must attack or perish.


    Roaring a battle cry, William charged with his shield first and smashed into one of them. She faded to petals while the others pursued. Then, turning, he parried a stroke from the Scythe of Imogen and cut the hand from the creature. It faded, but the other rushed at him as the scythe spun beyond his wrist.


    Clashing sword against a scythe, William attacked hard and fast and broke the wood in twain. Cutting it down, he thanked his greater strength as he looked up. All around him, a forest of flowers was rising. Flashes of fire could be seen around him as smoke rose high and Jehair manifested.


    No longer golden, her hair was now pink and ragged, and the scythe was in hand. Endless waves of pink blossoms were flowing about them, and waves of red obscured his vision. As they passed for a moment, it seemed William was not in Antion but some other wild realm. All around him were lush forests, and wild animals in harmony as golden light shone on all.


    But it was nothing.


    Animals eat plants, and plants devour water; creatures hunt one another. And the Flower Maiden feasted on it, removing one troublesome problem after another. Waiting for her moment.


    A great gust of wind carried Jehair upwards, and her body seemed almost made of the petals surrounding her.


    "Do you know the nature of the cherry blossom?" asked Jehair. "It blooms only briefly for a brief time each year. But during that time, the blossoms are the most beautiful trees you will ever see.


    "Endless poetry has been conveyed about them in Kalthak and Dinis.


    "Now...


    "Wandering soul that is bereft of peace. Bloom for a moment and wither as you must....


    "IN THIS NATION OF ETERNAL MEANINGLESSNESS!!"


    And at that moment, she descended. Wings of sakura petals rose her and formed into a revenant-like specter. Descending, William narrowly parried and took a nick to the arm. As he reeled, she vanished and came from behind. Spinning away, he was slashed across the side, and his counterblow was parried. Even as he healed, Jehair went at him with a mad look in her eyes. She slashed and hacked as the flowers around him poured their pollen into the air.


    Soon the world began to blur, and he could hardly see her. Then, finally, his foot was caught, and he stumbled. Landing hard on the ground, he was caught immediately by vines and slashed to try and get free. But Jehair appeared like a specter of death, scythe upraised.


    "LET NATURE TAKE THE LIFE IT GAVE!!" cried Jehair, a mad look in her eyes.


    And then Larxe tore through the flowers with a howl of fury and was on Jehair. Bowling her over, they grappled as the werewolf bared her fangs. Grasping Jehair by the throat, she surged to bite her, but Jehair had her. Now they rolled over, gouging, biting. William grasped his sword and slashed at the vines. He struck once, then again, and finally, he was free.


    Rising up, he saw Jehair overthrow Larxe with momentum, hurling her across the room. Larxe landed on her knees and hands as plants went at her. Now she was fighting off dozens of the tendrils.


    William raised his sword and rushed at Jehair, who drew her weapon and looked at him. Her hair was now corpse white and her eyes glowing, her form like a skeleton. Then, turning, she sprinted at him as they moved. William knew she would strike first.


    But he''d have the advantage if he could get past her attack. So, raising his faithful shield, he moved it toward her scythe. The shield hit, and he felt his arm go numb, stumbling with the force of the blow. Making the last few steps, his leg was grabbed by a vine as he stabbed upwards.


    The sword stabbed deep through her sternum, and she gasped and fell backward. The spell was broken, and her white hair returned to brown as she slumped downward.


    The scythe fell from her grip as William pulled out his sword. Then, realizing what she knew was needed, he healed and set her down. It would not be right for her to die without facing justice.


    "So..." Jehair said. "This is the art of chivalry..."


    "What are you talking about?" asked William, standing away from her.


    "I heard a story once," said Jehair, breathing as the last of her enchantments faded. "It told of a knight who was the meekest man to dine in halls among ladies. Yet the bravest and most courageous of men upon the battlefield.


    "It is not a thing of nature."


    William understood the concept. But he had no intention of humoring her. "It is choice, not art, that defines one. You made your choices a long time ago."


    Jehair laughed. "Perhaps so.


    "It doesn''t matter."


    Larxe stood up, dusting herself off as the flowers faded around them. Her pink hair faded away to the original brown as the hallucinations faded around them.


    Larxe bounded forward, clapping and laughing. "Excellent work Sir Gabriel. You have assisted in the capture of a dangerous fugitive.


    "Jehair, you are under arrest."


    "For?" asked Jehair.


    "Engineering the starvation of Blackfear''s population, aiding and abetting criminals," said Larxe. "Murder of an officer of the law, {I was the officer} attacking nobility {just now}, conspiracy against the crown, conspiracy to usurp a local Lord''s regional authority {pretty much everywhere}. Contempt for royalty and nobility {this is their country, and you think that country is a mistake.} Betrayal of the national sovereignty of Antion. Treason.


    "And to top it all off, you''re an insufferable jerk.


    "There aren''t any accounts of theft, rape, or oathbreaking I can think of. But that changes little because you are not a god. You don''t have the right to pass judgement on an entire nation. Neral Dinis insists I be quite familiar with the laws of Antion. You''ll be taken to the King and made to answer there." Her wolves were coming out.


    "Bind her. And no physical attacks; this is law work."


    "Law work?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Larxe. "I am an agent of Neral Dinis, after all.


    "I''ve decided that the old ways are done, and I''m going into thief catching. It''s better sport that way. I''ll take her to the King and finally get a measure of respect for my kind. Neral Dinis and I spoke of it earlier.


    "Although this was a nice setup.


    "You know how to treat a girl to dinner."


    William halted. "Unplanned, I assure you.


    "Jehair should not be physically harmed. It could get her sympathy." She was tied to a tree now, not resisting. "Perhaps we should focus on the convoys."


    "I don''t need your clumsy feet for that," said Larxe. "We''ll bring in the ones we smell illegal substances on soon. They''ll be heading for Escor or the domain of Lord Tarsus. There''s no market in Blackfear, but I''ve traced most of the paths up there.


    "You gave me a perfect pretense to start patrolling them. If I did it alone, they''d say werewolves were ambushing people. With a Paladin and Jehair, though, I can seize them all now. I know exactly what malas and their goods smell like. And they aren''t smart enough to hide it from me.


    "It''ll be an easy feast."


    "You aren''t going to eat them, are you?" asked William.


    "No," said Larxe in disappointment. "We don''t do that anymore. We''re not allowed to devour anything sentient. Just arrest them.


    "We''ll have to feast on their fear for now."


    William never once came within sight of any of the arrests. However, many shipments were soon brought up to Isriath''s new city. The goods were seized and carefully kept away to be examined. Larxe moved around them, taking notes as she did on sheets of paper. They sniffed and compared notes and also examined the physical parameters.


    Many individuals were questioned by Larxe and kept terrified. She asked simple, short questions. Often about the paths they took and others. Other merchants arrived unmolested. They plied their trade on the citizens of Isriath. Barter began as construction continued. William was several times asked to explain what had happened to the merchants. He felt terrible doing it.


    At the very least, however, William had a chance to observe the construction. He''d never been near this kind of construction before.


    "No, no," said Osmos, a merchant who knew something about building. "That''s not properly grounded. Let me steady that."


    William observed and tried to understand what he was seeing. More merchants arrived and genuinely made a profit. At the same time, those who had been peddling malas were arrested. Others Larxe had known of for some time and known their crimes. These were arrested, even without illegal goods, some of them for crimes of slavery.


    What he saw here was utterly foreign to how Harlenor was supposed to be. It was the antithesis of Harlenor.


    And yet, as the merchants bringing malas to faraway lands clapped in irons, it was beautiful. Harlenor had failed here; a new way must be found to return.


    Unfortunately, the old way was lined with bandits. So he focused on making sure a guard was kept at all times. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Make sure you look professional and raise your spear high," said William. "It won''t do much good if you''re attacked. But if they think you''ve got professional soldiers, they''ll think twice.


    "That should give you enough time to find a better defense."


    "Thank you, sir," said a boy, but he was older than William.


    Even though he''d been through worse misery, he wasn''t as far on his journey. It was odd how pain alone could not bring maturity. It could also be education, or he had chosen differently. Yet as William looked out over a land turning green, he saw the sun shining again overhead.


    And William wondered if there was anything left of who he was. What had happened to the person who went with Raynald and Rusara by ship? Who had thought about visiting Edmund Telus and dining with him again?


    Did that person still exist? Should he? What did it mean if he did?


    The unholy rituals had been destroyed with the purification of the area.


    Criminal after criminal were clapped in irons and led away. Their guards were overpowered, and their oxen loosed. And their burdens were taken as evidence.


    Then another, then another.


    One saw the oxen tied up after being given to the villagers and ran for it, but wolves caught them in the woods. A few were searched and found to have no illegal substances and sent on their way. But these were few, and immense wealth was seized over the next few hours.


    A few caught on and tried to run, but the werewolves had been waiting, and they were rounded up. So that pretty soon Arkan''s merchants. They had come in expecting great wealth and an easy sale; instead were clapped in chains. How would their families take the news? What fate would befall them once these were hung? William prayed Elranor would care for them.


    "Basically," said Larxe. "They''d come over the mountain and sell their wares to the merchants out here with Cirithil. Then, they buy up the slaves in return and return to Ascorn. From there, they get sold to plantation owners or whoever buys them. Lady Atravain or whatever you want."


    "Lady Atravain would do no such thing," said William.


    "Maybe she wouldn''t," said Larxe. "If she knew it was happening.


    "Most buyers don''t want to know who their slaves are. It makes them rich. Nobody will care what your lineage is after you''re worked to death.


    "Right now, we''re stripping all the illegal merchants of everything. They''ll be bankrupt after this; most merchants are one bad run away from it. And they''ll be in prison, so we can squeeze them for information before they die.


    "And their families will have to live out on the street." She giggled. "We give the stolen stuff to Isriath''s city as thanks. And they sell it to honest merchants as they return from the honest business. That was Saphra''s idea; she suspected this place had been up here for some time. But we never had a chance to go in for open war against Arkan."


    "How will you handle the blood problem?" asked William.


    "Well, my idea," said Larxe. "Is that we get a chance to drink blood from people given the death penalty? Or if we decide to drain them, maybe a werewolf will turn them instead. Of course, we''re very selective, but that gives them a chance to save themselves.


    "I think we can do very well as police."


    "Just don''t push too far," said William. "Antion is not defenseless. They will destroy you if you cause too much disruption and misery."


    "I know," said Larxe, and she leaned forward as if to bite him. Then she thought better of it and stole off.


    William looked over to where Jehair was bound to a tree.


    The hatred in her eyes was gone, and he thought they finally understood one another a bit better. Then she looked away, the light in her eyes died, and she slumped unconscious.


    Jehair was dead, either today or in only a little while.


    And they would not meet again in this life. Perhaps in her next, if what she said was true. But did he actually want to meet her?


    William sat down to think.


    And he contemplated all that had led up to this for many hours.


    Two.

 Chapter 182 - Thirty-Four: Aftermath

    William was thinking for quite some time.


    Jehair was carried away in chains as the construction continued. New fields were dug in a hurry as crops were planted. His armor lay near him, and he considered putting it on again. He''d carried it for so long, and losing it had not gained him any relief. His blonde hair flowed in the wind, and the scar over his eye ached.


    William was soon becoming very angry, and he wasn''t sure why. Larxe and her wolves seemed outright lucid, in contrast.


    "I suppose I should say it will all be worth it," said Felix in his shadow.


    "How could it possibly be worth it?!" said William as he stood up in a fury. "We''ve been wandering the lands like wolves for weeks, battling plague and bandits! My armor is filthy despite my best efforts; I''m covered in sweat and blood! Every victory only serves to open doors to more futile struggles!


    "By this point, I have jumped between every single side in the entire length and breadth of the land! I''m exhausted; my friends are far away, perhaps even dead! The country of Antion is on the verge of collapse, and all my efforts may have been for nothing!


    "And even if everyone in this horrible place pulls together, the land will be a shadow of itself!


    "And now I''ve had to throw my guide in prison for high treason, among other crimes!"


    "Well, it has been a long journey," said Felix. "The cards were stacked against us from the start. There was no winning hand."


    "The next time I agree to walk across half a continent for Raynald and Rusara, stab me," said William. Then he saw Larxe snuffling around on the ground on all fours, hair tied to keep it out of the dirt. Her very shapely rump was raised skyward as she crawled like a dog in the dirt. "Larxe?"


    "I''ve been identifying the clothes and effects of the bodies," said Larxe, not looking up. "Trying to find trails.


    "Most are from Escorn or Haldren, some of Rius'' old buddies. We got a bunch of scents on them, and we''re following them to their sources.


    "Once we arrive, we''ll follow any scents they connect with. It''ll take a while, but we''ll find their blood. We always do."


    "And what will you do when you find them?" asked Felix.


    "Investigate," said Larxe, crawling near them and shifting. "Our sense of smell lets us know where people have gone. And if people hide their scent, we''ll sense the absence and learn to investigate.


    "Neral Dinis trained us in all the laws of Antion, and we have only been looking for an opportunity to enforce them."


    William looked to the people, then back to Larxe. It was midday. "Have you talked to the people?"


    "No, they''d scream and run away," said Larxe. "Don''t want to antagonize anyone." Following a scent, she followed it to him and clambered up, her hands on his knees as Felix went for his sword. But Larxe was face to face, looking at him hungrily.


    "Get off," said William.


    Larxe stepped off and kept on snuffling at the ground.


    "...Felix, go talk to the people out there," said William. "Find out if they saw merchants or anyone who could incriminate our friends. And also ask them if they were the ones that bought the beer.


    "There might have been a mass shipment."


    "Smart," said Larxe, not looking up.


    Felix moved off, looking at him in a warning.


    "Fine, be that way," said Larxe, standing up. "I was hoping to see the fear in their eyes."


    "Please don''t alarm them, Larxe. They''ve already been through hell," said William. "I''d recommend having human agents talk to people in your stead. Werewolves have a reputation." Thus far, the wolves had avoided them completely and been only observed.


    "Mmm, this is good Nakan beer if I ever tasted it," said Maius''s voice behind him. William looked back to see her sitting on a rock, still clad in white and drinking from two filled flagons. "I haven''t tried anything like this in a long time. Only a few drinks give you this kind of feeling.


    "They must have been getting it from several places.


    "Want a sip?"


    "No, thank you," said William.


    "Lamech introduced me to them," said Maius. "They''re the ones who were helping Tavish."


    "Lamech? What was his connection to this?" asked William.


    "Oh yes," said Maius. "He''s the one who got them into the brewing business. They used to make the stuff, but he financed manufacturing it en masse. Then Cirithil sold them slaves, to till the fields instead.


    "It was all legal back then. Prisoners of war and such."


    "Where is Kiyora?" asked William, shaking his head. "She usually shows up much more often than this. Something must be occupying her."


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    "Who, Virtue?" asked Maius.


    "Virtue?" asked William.


    "That''s what they used to call her in Tarasif," said Maius. "She used to call me Vice. Hates me, needless to say."


    "You two seem like you''d get on well," said William. "I thought she sent me here to help you."


    "Well, we did get on well once," said Maius sadly. "A long time ago.


    "You know her as the Dreaming Goddess, but she''s also the Goddess of Virtue. She goes by that guise in Escor; most gods have different guises."


    "When was this?" asked William. "Nevermind, I don''t care right now. Later, perhaps. Larxe, why have you calmed down so much?


    "You are not nearly so violent as you were."


    "I go in cycles," said Larxe, sitting on the rock beside him. Looking up at the sky, she looked almost sane and beautiful. "When I''m thirsty, I lust for blood constantly. When I get that blood, I think more clearly. Taking action also helps. The bloodlust doesn''t affect me as much when I''m fully focused.


    "I direct all the packs and enforce order when it needs to be there. We must constantly eat and devour unless we have something we''re all focused on."


    William looked to Maius. "Maius, you''ve changed in guise as well."


    "I enjoy beer, martial arts, and seducing handsome men," said Maius, throwing herself back. She crossed her legs and landed on the cold stone like a pillow bed. Her breasts bounced, and William had difficulty keeping his gaze on her face. "I can get all of that pretty easily.


    "I just educate myself to keep my domain running. It''s a depressing side job. There isn''t a lot of faith to get from drunkenness.


    "You need to keep things entertaining." And she turned around with a flourish of red. Once again, in the form of her red outfit. "So what do you want, handsome?"


    William considered his answer. "I''ll get back to you."


    "Fair enough," said Maius before spinning and vanishing in a wave of red cloth. Then, just before it covered her, she blew him a kiss.


    William sat down sadly.


    "I gotta hand it to you," said a bitter voice. "Selling your guide to werewolves in the middle of a land you don''t know is a pretty gutsy move."


    William looked up to see Imogen coming back, looking bitter. Looking down, he saw Jehair''s scythe at his feet. Picking it up, it felt meant for him and yet wrong. "Imogen..."


    "This is yours by right. Taken from Jehair before she was arrested," Though he could not remember taking it from her.


    And he offered her the scythe. Imogen looked at it with a forlorn expression on her face for a moment. Then, Imogen'' took it sadly with an unsteady hand. "She was supposed to give it to you when you came to us."


    "I''m never going to be the person you want me to be, Imogen," said William. Based on what he had seen, Imogen had been hoping to fill the place Kiyora had gotten to. He didn''t understand why, though.


    "I guess not," said Imogen.


    And she vanished. So did Maius without a look, and William felt lost. As if some part of him he''d always desired to gain had been rejected by him. A sense of wanderlust was lost, replaced with bitter hatred of evil.


    Felix came forward, carrying a list. He''d taken paper with him just in case. "It had to be done, William.


    "It was the only decent thing you could have done. The law must be enforced, or men will not fear breaking it. Injustice must be punished, or men will cease to be good.


    "We have done both."


    "Felix," William halted. "I''m glad you''re with us."


    "I have a list of the dead. Most of it," said Felix. "Apparently, there was a paper shipment with some of the merchants. They don''t mean anything to me. Do you know them?"


    William took the list and frowned as he saw them. There were many, and he chose not to write to spare their families in his volume. "Some of these are among the most influential non-noble merchants in Haldren. And also, in Ascorn, I remember hearing of them from Rius, though I won''t speak of their names.


    "I had dinner with a few of them in passing when I was younger and visiting Ran Telus. But, none of them were militarily important."


    "Let me see," said Larxe, taking it and looking over it sadly. Why was she sad? "A lot of important Ascorian Merchants, some Sornians too, and a few from the realm of Lord Tarsus."


    "Cirithil must have been offering them a chance to advance their position. Likely by undercutting the authority of the nobility," said Felix. "They work as church merchants, and the Lords can''t use the usual punishments.


    "How are we going to handle this?"


    "I''m going to have every criminal hung and drain their blood," decided Larxe. "Then Cirithil won''t have anyone left to provide political cover.


    "Then I will drink his blood and cast his corpse to my wolves."


    "There is another possibility," said William sadly. "These Lords might have been conspiring with Cirithil. The merchants were acting on their behalf."


    "Edmund Telus has been allied with your Father for decades," noted Felix.


    Massacre came forward then. "They journeyed together to Themious."


    "I''m not saying such a thing is happening, only that it is possible," said William. "Alliances break up, even among friends. Either way, if my Father does not know, we have no time to tell."


    "We''ll have to go to Ran Telus then," said Felix.


    "I''ll have to go to Ran Telus, you mean," said William, standing up. "Felix, you will stay here with my armor. Massacre will move faster with just me. I''ll take my sword and shield and ride straight to Ascorn. I can take a ship with the Furbearers and be right after them.


    "Larxe... why don''t you come with me?


    "I could use your help." Also, he could use the guide now that Jehair had been revealed as a traitor.


    "I''ve got work enough to do here," said Larxe sadly. "But, I celebrate that you have new prey to hunt. And I pray that the killing delivers you the blood you desire."


    "...Welcome to the world of the living," said William, wondering what she meant by ''blood''; it did seem to be a liquid. "Massacre, we must go."


    And leaping onto the chimera''s back, he clung to her mane. Then Massacre shot off like an arrow from the bow of destiny. She moved up the slopes like lightning, leaping over crevasses and ridges. The wind on William''s face was cold, and his hair whipped behind him as he clung for dear life.


    William wondered if this, too, was the work of Farasa.


    Abruptly, he saw her before him, though she was not there. She was dressed now in flowing red, more concealing. "William, I have news for you."


    "What is it, Farasa?" asked William.


    "Your enemy Lamech has taken Princess Oresa of Western Kalthak hostage. He is taking her to Haldren," said Farasa. "She is likely to be murdered, and no one knows or has time to care.


    "You are the only person I can go to about this."


    William halted. "...Son of a...


    "Very well. I''ll do what I can for her. I was heading after him anyway. Grant me haste; I need it."


    And Farasa was gone.


    Massacre cleared the fortress before the sun set and shot down the slopes. Faster and faster she went. It was as though urged on by all the gods, and all who saw her fled in fear. A few shot arrows wildly, but she leaped over their darts until they came to the came.


    Rushing in, they found Amenos fitting the last ship for sail. Massacre fell to her knees in exhaustion.


    "Amenos!" cried William, relieved to see a friendly face. "Prepare to make sail for Haldren! Take me at once; it is a matter of urgency! Massacre, rest here, and await my return." S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Amenos blinked in surprise but quickly nodded. "I am at your disposal," said Amenos. "Though I would not have been here if you come even an hour later. Where are Jehair and Felix."


    "I''ll tell you when we are at sea," William leaped onto the ship. "We set sail. Every moment counts."


    And they did just that, hurriedly pushing off and setting the fail. A favorable wind blew them swiftly and surely toward where they needed to go.


    So William Gabriel set on his return journey alone and far earlier than expected.

 Chapter 183 - Thirty-Five: Family Meeting

    Tanith and Kata reached the bridge over the Soulflow river at daybreak.


    There was no time to appreciate it with all the rain. Though it mainly had let up to a drizzle by now. Tanith chose to risk it for speed, and Kata led them by swift paths unseen over a ford in the river. Tanith looked up from it toward a well-made bridge that had been the site of a great battle once.


    All the great houses of Haldren had come down from the north and met the Withering King''s forces here. The Dark Lord Aras had marshaled a great army of satyrs and invincible undead against them. And with them came the Furbearers in support.


    So there had been a grievous battle where many knights and peasants had died.


    And House Gabriel had nearly lost all of its men. Garath Gabriel had almost died fighting there, and Erik the Voyager fell, already an old man. Duke Vanion, then only a child, had been taken into the care of Arengeth as a potential successor. And it had seemed then that House Gabriel would lose everything and be made vagabonds. There had even been discussion of confiscating Gel Carn and giving it to someone else. And Edmund Telus was looking to be the most powerful man in the region.


    Or worse, giving the commoners control.


    But Duke Vanion had put a stop to all that. He, Raynald, and Rusara had outmaneuvered everyone.


    They''d destroyed the bad merchants and rewarded loyal subjects. They''d fought off every rival claim. At last, they''d gone into Antion and won many great victories.


    Together they had destroyed the corrupted and elevated the righteous. All while being well rewarded. And her Father, Edmund Telus, had first been their benefactor. Then, when he became lesser, he remained respected. So now he was rewarded with rich land by Vanion in Artarq.


    Tanith had told Kata all these stories in depth. Father had loved to tell them, so Tanith knew them by heart. She''d written many of them down when she was younger and thirsted for adventure.


    "There was a great battle between our peoples here," said Kata. "We used to be the villains, weren''t we? Summoning undead and working with satyrs."


    "You either have to work with satyrs or kill them," said Tanith. "They''re a warrior race. They don''t respect peace, only endure it. Not nearly so nice as us."


    Kata laughed, and it was a nice laugh. "Does it ever end?"


    "It never ends," said Tanith. "Some people drop out of the game for a bit; some stay out. That was your mistake. You stayed quiet too long and went from an enemy to a victim."


    "I guess you could become a hermit like the ones that dwell over to the east in the ruins of Thrakmul," noted Kata. "I''m heading out there with Sokar to see if we can resettle it. It''s very barren, though, so not much of a chance."


    "Some people would kill someone who owned nothing," said Tanith. "That''s why William and I stay in the game. We only drop out of it to rest, and then return because we must serve our nation, families, and people.


    "If we don''t do it, who will? If I went into peace, I''d drink myself to death or commit suicide."


    "That''s where you and I differ," said Kata. "When this is over, this war will be a bad memory. I want to live by helping other people, not hurting them.


    "This land could be free and beautiful if only people would help one another.


    "Maybe this is where it starts."


    "It always starts," said Tanith with a laugh. "Universal brotherhood lasts only until you meet a bandit. Then, you''re not going to have time to understand him when he''s trying to gut you with a knife. After that, it does not matter whether he''s a good man or a bad one. He''s already decided he''s willing to kill you for money. If someone stepped out of the trees around us with bows and started shooting...


    "Would you try to talk to them?"


    "No," said Kata sadly. "I''d be a fool not to fight back. I''d run or kill.


    "But just a perfect pacifist doesn''t exist; a perfect warrior doesn''t exist either. Tanith, you''ll never live in a world where your enemy is as evil as you want them to be. No matter how just and noble you are, you''ll be someone''s villain when you walk a path of blood."


    "No, I won''t," said Tanith in mock arrogance. "I''m right, and they are wrong."


    "Is that supposed to be William?" asked Kata, laughing.


    They walked over the ford and into the trees beyond. At the edge of the ford was a perfect place for an ambush. The ford had been a common way to get across the bridge, but it was guarded in days of the war. You could see burial mounds from all those shot dead in the ambush on both sides.


    Tanith led them through the trees, wilting now around them by the will of Elranor. They were beautiful in all their red and orange. And Tanith felt for the first time a sense of peace, as though an inferno long within her faded.


    "So, there it is," said Tanith. "Ran Telus, my home."


    Ran Telus was magnificent, more so than ever before.


    It stood with stocky walls, flowing banners, and a great fortress at the center of a magnificent city. It had grown and grown over the years. Tanith had been alive. Now it was practically bursting, with farms outside it here or there. Yet most of the food came from Gel Carn, and never had Vanion taken that supply hostage.


    Other shipments had come in from the Furbearers in happier days long ago. Yet the ice which had fallen over the land and never left prevented such farming. So it was that their food came from the sea by fishing or over it. She and William had often eaten together here when Anborn was not so disgraced.


    They came out onto the path, walking behind an ox cart.


    "The Lady Tanith has returned!" cried a guard. "And with her, the Princess of the Furbearers."


    "People are beginning to take notice of you," said Tanith. "That''s good or bad; it all depends on what you make of it."


    "Are you sure about returning here, Tanith?" asked Kata. "I mean..."


    "I''ve got to go back now," said Tanith. "I''ve got a duty to my family, and with this situation resolved, I''m out of excuses."


    "Well, I wouldn''t call it resolved," said Kata. "But, well..."


    "Yes?" asked Tanith.


    Kata looked away. "With any luck, this whole thing will be over, and we can finally do something useful with our time."


    "You could come with me, you know. I''d guarantee you my protection," said Tanith.


    "I appreciate it, but I don''t have faith in anyone''s word anymore," said Kata. "No one outside of my family and my own people. Even if you gave me your protection and meant it, your Father might overrule you. Would you fight him?"


    "...Probably not," admitted Tanith.


    "Right," Kata smiled. "We''re not respected as a people, and I''d be valuable as a hostage. I can''t trust these people; even you can. Good luck."


    And she raced off.


    "Good luck," said Tanith, watching her go. She felt... empty inside as Kata left, looking happier than ever. Tanith ought to be happy too.


    But something told Tanith she''d not see her again.


    Turning, Tanith walked through the gates behind the cart. There she saw Anborn standing guard. None of the other men paid him any heed. One seemed to be glaring at him, and this Tanith found odd. He''d done very good work, and few had outdone in kills.


    But then, he had a long way to go.


    "Where is my Father?" asked Tanith.


    "He is presently hunting with Prince Aras," said a man. "He will be back in a day or so. They wished to inspect the borders. All to avoid a potential Furbearer assault. One of them has declared himself a King; we''re afraid we might see a return to the worship of undeath."


    "Don''t be," said Tanith. "Osrif is reasonable.


    "He has enough power to cause trouble if we push him. But if it comes to a serious conflict, we''ll crush him. I know his children; they have an appreciation for the Harlenorian way. They will understand that being good subjects will be paramount." She paused. "Anborn fought very well.


    "Very well. He is beginning to regain his honor."


    And she strode off as quickly as she could.


    Tanith moved purposefully through the streets, removing her helm so others could see. Many cheered, and a number wilted as she came to the doors and entered by a side door. Entering in the usual way, she nodded to the first servant and quickly got her armor off. Before long, she had cleaned and dressed in white, going out to meet her Mother.


    The halls of House Telus were much more luxurious than Carn Gable. Duke Vanion had always preferred to spend little on luxury. What he spent was on things like fountains that served a secondary purpose. Father, though, liked to enjoy life. There were banners on the walls and tapestries of old battles fought. Some of them depicted the journey to Themious or other battles.


    There was the hunt for the Typhosian board, which stood six feet tall. It had been rampaging around Themious, and no one had been able to bring it down. It breathed fire and had tusks like swords. A hunt had been planned then by Edmund and Vanion. Edmund had done a lot of boar hunting and had arranged for it to be driven out of the woods. Many villagers made a lot of noise and drove it out. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    There the war party had been waiting. Vanion had the bad luck of being first in its path. But he caught it with his spear and leaped aside. Unfortunately, that hadn''t been nearly enough to slay it. The fire nearly burned him, but Azgora blocked it with her shield. Then she''d gotten it in the side with a spear as it passed. Kafka had then leaped between the hooves of the beast and stabbed upward.


    Last of all, Raynald had slain it by leaping on top of its head and cutting its throat. Though it had thrashed and nearly trampled Kafka before Hadleim had pulled him out. It set the forest on fire as it died, but Hadleim convinced the river spirits to put the flames out. And Rusara had burned away much of the underbrush so it would not spread quickly.


    There was a dispute over who deserved credit since Amazons did not believe in sharing credit for deeds. But Vanion had argued for Azgora in gratitude for her saving him. Kafka had agreed with this, but Raynald had argued for himself from the beginning. Since the wound, the side would likely have been lethal. Raynald had argued against it, but Kafka had agreed with Vanion. Hadleim had as well.


    It led to a rift between Vanion and Raynald for a while. And it had sewn the seeds of the feud between Azgora and Raynald. Even so, Rusara had mediated things, and they''d patched things up. It was Kafka and Vanion who would become bitter enemies.


    Tanith''s uncle.


    Tanith wondered how Vanion and Kafka had come to hate one another so much. Why would Duke Vanion ever try to assassinate someone? What could drive him to that point?


    Most of them happened years ago. Tanith looked up as she walked through a courtyard and saw a well. She remembered that she and William had been very young and tossed coins into it together. They''d done it with a slavegirl their age brought in by a visitor, an Artulkan. Tef Lock, was it?


    What had happened to her? She had been... sunny.


    Tanith reflected that she might well be dead by now. And she would probably never find out. There had been a shooting star that night.


    Mother was sitting, sewing, her face covered in a veil to hide her. She looked up. "Tanith?"


    "Mother, I''m back," said Tanith, sitting down. "Are things going well?" She never felt at home in these dresses. They stained too easily and could not be cleaned of blood.


    Not that you did any fighting in them.


    "Yes," said Mother. "Atria has proved of immense help. Her mastery of languages has helped our scribes a great deal. In addition, she has been a great support to your Father and me."


    "What?" said Tanith, voice suspicious.


    "Is something wrong?" asked Mother.


    Tanith shook her head. There was nothing wrong with a slave doing its job. "Nothing; I''m pleased to hear things have gone well. Why is Aras here?"


    "Well, the truth is that House Telus'' is in debt," said Mother. "We''ve been fighting in many wars. Ascorn took out many loans, and your Father had to cover for him. And events in Antion have seen many shipments disrupted. The chaos out there has cut off many supply lines merchants relied on. As a result, everyone''s usual income has been disrupted."


    "It had to be done," said Tanith. "If we hadn''t freed those Furbearers, Antion would be in flames. And you should be glad I did; it''s the only reason Anborn is alive for them to see."


    "Those savages?" asked Mother. "They didn''t hurt him, did they?"


    "Why do you care?" asked Tanith, offended that everything was about Anborn as usual. Tanith served her country and did it excellently. But poor Anborn had a little less talent, so he warranted special. "He''s endangered us. He disgraced our family name."


    "He''s my son, Tanith," said Mother. "You beat him to a bloody pulp, threw him to his enemies, and forced him to fight with no armor.


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    "How could you?"


    "And as a result, he is beginning to be respected," said Tanith. "Anborn has killed many men now. He''s fought to defend our allies and helped salvage the wreckage he has made of his honor.


    "He might eventually be a man."


    "Anborn doesn''t want to be what you consider a man," said Mother.


    "What the hell does what he wants to have to do with being a member of House Telus!" shouted Tanith. "I didn''t want to help dig a cesspit when I joined Argath. But I did it because the job had to be done to prevent disease in the camp. I didn''t want to throw old women into farmhouses and burn them alive.


    "But I did it because those were the orders I had been given. If I had not followed those orders, morale would have broken down. Our entire group would have been cut down and died, and there could be no witnesses.


    "Argath ordered them destroyed, and so they had to be.


    "Where do you think all the money and wealth come from? All those exemplary tapestries that symbolize the glory of House Telus? The materials don''t come from Anborn gambling and making friends. They come from conquest and war, war upon the enemies of Elranor. War upon the enemies of all who live.


    "Where are Anborn''s fine friends now? All those he spent his time gambling with? Where are his many red-headed girlfriends who keep him straight and narrow? They''ve abandoned him because he''s a child in a man''s body. And once they''re finished with him, he''s of no use.


    "That job he was given came with too many strings. And he had it coming."


    "He''s not a killer like you," said Mother.


    "Why are you acting like that''s a bad thing?" asked Tanith. "Why is Anborn your favorite son? Why is Sunthred of secondary importance to this spineless effeminate weakling? One devoid of true valor or nobility?


    "Why are you upset that he now has some semblance of power?"


    "Why are you treating your brother like a defective weapon?" asked Mother in turn.


    "Because you''ve given me the same treatment," said Tanith. "I''ve sacked many enemy towns. I''ve defended my nation from Calisha; I''ve put down rebellions. I''ve brought glory to my-"


    And then Mother hugged her.


    Tanith choked and shifted, feeling her heart flutter at the embrace. Then, slowly, she drew up her hands and embraced her back. For a long moment, they held one another as Mother clutched her. For a moment, Tanith forgot her dreams of lust and blood and felt uncomfortable as a girl.


    "I will always love you, Tanith," said Mother.


    Tanith didn''t cry, but she wanted to.


    She felt genuine happiness for a brief moment as Mother broke the embrace.


    "Sunthred has been setting things up very well in Artarq, you know," said Mother.


    "Oh, really?" asked Tanith, drinking.


    "Have you had a chance to visit him?" asked Mother.


    "No, not really," said Tanith. "There''s been so much to do that I haven''t had time."


    "You really should," said Mother. "You never know what might happen between one moment and the next. He''s very fond of you."


    "No, he isn''t," said Tanith. Sunthred and her had fallen apart after Anborn had refused to mature. Once they lost respect for him, no one could mediate. Sunthred was an abolitionist and an economist and had little love for war.


    Every conversation had been tense.


    Tanith wished they could go back to how things were.


    "Atria, could you bring us some tea, please?" asked Atria.


    "Of course, Mistress," said Atria, coming forward. Tanith looked up and saw a majestically beautiful woman. She had long, silver hair and dark skin tied over her head. She was clad in servants'' garb and was the very picture of willing subservience.


    It was too good to be true.


    "Thank you," said Mother.


    Tanith nodded, took her tea, and saw a hint of intellect. There was no way the woman who had given her the fight of her life could become this so effortlessly. Atria departed, and Tanith did not admire her body, lovely though it was.


    "That has got to be some kind of act," said Tanith.


    "What do you mean?" asked Mother. Why was she confused?


    "Why do you trust her here, Mother?" asked Tanith. Granted, Tanith trusted Felix, but she''d known him for a lot longer. They''d gone to war together too, and that counted for something.


    Also, he had not been taken as a slave; he had been sold by Calishans.


    The idea of having her walk around freely was wrong, somehow. But then, Tanith had brought her back, and Edmund Telus had let her walk. It was possible that a Calishan could turn out well. Felix had. But Felix had been enslaved by Calishans, which meant he had a separation of loyalties. Atria did not. What would be required for Tanith to accept Atria as she had Felix?


    Logically, give her a chance to murder Tanith and wait to see if she did it.


    Why not?


    The slave trade was dying anyway, and Tanith was bored.


    "Then what is the point, Tanith? Why did you bring her here?" asked Mother, seeming to guess her mind. "We thought she had your favor."


    "...It''s what a raider is supposed to do," said Tanith.


    "Tanith, our culture obsesses over rage and hate," said Mother. "It warps people."


    "What of it?!" said Tanith. "We live in a disease-ridden death world where war is constant, and you cannot trust anyone. Even a close friend could be an enemy tomorrow."


    "We just got finished with a full-scale war with our ally.


    "King Gavin could come down there with an army to lay siege to our castle tomorrow! And the last thing we''d need is a nice guy who bursts into tears during a crisis!


    "Anborn needed to have it beaten out of him, just like I did. You should have done it years ago, but you coddled him."


    "He can''t sleep anymore," said Mother. "He wakes up screaming about bloody tendrils ripping him apart while you laugh."


    "Good," said Tanith. "Let him remember the consequences of his failure to be a man. And why do you speak of him like he is a child?"


    "He is my child," said Mother. "Just like you are. Do you hate your own brother that much?"


    "Yes," said Tanith. "And I''m still doing what is best for him. Do you want him to end up like Rius? Some balding middle-aged traitor with no wife or children? Incapable of even holding a meeting without someone holding his hand?


    "Or Lilas, that despicable traitor who starves his own people so he can get points for fixing the problem he created?"


    "Tanith," said Mother. "I have heard what happened with Lilas. Could you explain yourself?"


    So Tanith did.


    Mother listened to her statements as she reported them and became increasingly concerned. She continued to play the harp as she did, contemplating matters. "That is quite an accusation to make, Tanith. "I note what you say about mistreating his workers, and I will speak to him about your concerns. I have already had several reports. Lilas is here."


    "Good," said Tanith. "Let''s have his head and be done with it."


    "He is nobility, a personal friend of King Gavin," said Mother. "A noble who abandons his people is no noble at all," said Tanith. "Lilas treated the Hand of Anoa like chips on a gambling table. Why should he get the benefits of a title when he''s already planning to trade up."


    "Let us return to the subject of Anborn. Don''t his actions warrant some respect from you?" asked Mother.


    "I gave him respect on the battlefield," said Tanith. "I put in a good word for him with the guards. Now I''m here, and he''s still wasted the last half a decade discrediting my house. Doing well in one battle does not redeem him for a lifetime of betrayal."


    "He''s made a lot of people happy," said Mother. "People like him."


    "Happy?!" said Tanith. "What does being a great man have to do with being happy?


    "He is nobility, born to be great, and does deeds of surpassing valor and magnificence. He must show ordinary people a better way. He must be a leader for the people. All he''s shown them is how to be a useful idiot. I''m glad I beat some sense into him before he got even worse."


    "Your brother may be completely disinherited because of that attitude," said Mother. "Because our culture prizes tradition and power over love.


    "Edmund is talking about it with his advisors now. The first time Anborn distinguishes himself, and his reward is this?"


    "That battle was the crowning moment of Anborn''s career, Mother," said Tanith. "It was his ultimate achievement after years. Much better than expected. Father is considering disinheriting him. He still needs to do it outright. That is his reward."


    "How can you say that?" asked Mother.


    "Because it''s true," said Tanith. "If we give him a position of authority, he''ll run Ran Telus into the ground. And when he does, the ordinary people will pay the price for his incompetence. It should go to Sunthred or one of his or my children. Or, failing that, one of our cousins. Janice, Grace and Jaina are all more acccomplished than Anborn and might do the job.


    "My brother used to be nice. But he''s weak and stupid. And both of those things are his fault."


    "I meant love being a luxury," said Mother. "Love is everything."


    "No, no, it is not," said Tanith. "Love will not stop the legions of the Calisha. Love will not prevent the hordes of hell from destroying. Nor will it end the blood feuds that surround us. It is by reason and steel that peace is maintained, if only for an instant. The powerful, the ruthless, these things make Harlenor survive."


    "But what makes Harlenor live?" asked Mother, voice still calm.


    "Not what Anborn does," said Tanith. "Drinking in brothels and pretending to be friends with people. Friendship and love are rewards for those who perform excellent service. To be given them without service is meaningless.


    "William only began to live when he entered Seathorius. And I only began to live in the fires of war."


    Mother halted and finally sighed. "...How have things with William progressed?"


    "Well, I''m hoping to marry him someday," said Tanith, looking up.


    "I see," said Mother. "I thought you were just friends."


    "It seems like the best match," said Tanith. "We bring out the best in eachother."


    "Tanith," said Mother. "There has been talking of a political alliance with King Gavin. Perhaps even one by marriage. It is a great opportunity. He has several children-"


    "Excuse me?" said Tanith. "Sunthred has territory in Artarq because of Duke Vanion. I''ve won my glory in his service. He''s one of the most powerful men in Harlenor. House Gabriel brought our house to prominence and brought about an era of prosperity. So William is undertaking a dangerous journey to get a pardon for me. And to represent me in the Tournament of Kings.


    "Duke Vanion has always treated us as equals worthy of due respect. And he did so long after he surpassed us in riches and wealth. It would hardly befit our noble blood to abandon such a friend."


    "Yes, but..." Mother halted. "Your Father has to deal with political realities. Vanion''s growing power has aroused jealousy from many other Lords. And Gel Carn has been without a leader for some time; King Gavin may take the opportunity to reclaim it.


    "It is within his rights, and if there isn''t a Lord there, he can hardly be contested.


    "At the same time, there are serious concerns. William has been sewing chaos wherever he goes in Antion. We''ve gone from relative peace to skirmishes happening daily. The power structure is being shaken up."


    "William didn''t sew chaos; he''s just doing the reaping!" said Tanith. "Those idiots in Antion violated every law and principle. They let bandits run their domains for them. How much time did we spend untangling the mess out there? And what''s worse, they spread the rot up here to Haldren.


    "William ought to be rewarded and thanked for fixing their problems. All without expecting anything in return. He''s what Anborn should have been.


    "I know that William is a kind and compassionate boy as well as a powerful warrior," said Mother. "But his actions have deeply concerned many powerful people. In fact, he may have humiliated them. His trip to Gel Carn has thrown down the gauntlet with all of Antion. It''s just that nobody can figure out whose side he''s on."


    "William is on the side of righteousness, Mother," said Tanith. "The Lords of Antion is a disgrace and corrupt. Lilas is as bad as any of them. They betrayed their people, their responsibilities, and their God. It is right that they suffer and lose influence. They can repent before the wrath of Elranor or be swept aside."


    "You speak of William as though he is a god," said Mother.


    "No, I do not," said Tanith. "William was how Elranor purged weakness from Antion. Just as I was, how weakness was purged from the Furbearers.


    "We were the vessels by which his divine plan was made manifest. The corruption of Antion will be undone, and the true Heir of Kings will come at last. I merely foretell that which we have been taught since we were children. And Duke Vanion shall be the herald."


    Silence.


    "Well," said Mother, sounding disturbed. "On that note, I have received a letter from Adrian Wrynncurth. Apparently, he has decided to let the incident in Gel Carn go.


    "He has communicated with Duke Vanion and observed your and William''s actions. The dragons you slew have regenerated, and the stolen treasure is restored. In light of William and your heroics, he will put the matter aside. He was here just a little while ago and was very polite."


    "Why are we talking about betraying House Gabriel," asked Tanith. Mother was keeping the subject the same here.


    "In this situation, your Father has to consider every possible outcome," said Mother. "One of them is that King Gavin will bring an army to Gel Carn en route to this meeting. He would only need a small force to seize it without leadership."


    "Fine then," said Tanith. "I''ll go there myself and take command. Don''t bother with the marriage alliance; if you set one up, I''ll kill him before the wedding."


    "What?" said Mother. "But they''d be a Prince."


    "I haven''t noticed most of Gavin''s sons exerting any authority," said Tanith. "I don''t know him. I don''t remember his deeds. I don''t know his plans. And it won''t be Aras; he''s in love with an elven woman, so don''t even bring it up. Marrying a Prince will cause us to betray House Gabriel.


    "Which absolutely cannot be allowed to happen. So I will kill him if you try to marry me to him."


    "That''s treason," said Mother.


    "If it''s treason to stick by your friends," said Tanith. "And repay debts to people you owe everything to; I''ll be glad to count myself among the traitors.


    "Gavin is weak, I''ve already beaten his proxy, and Vanion will one day be King of Antion. Marrying a Prince of Haldren would be a stupid, short-term move. And I won''t allow it. You''re my Mother, Lady Telus, and I love you. But don''t ever take sides against Duke Vanion. Ever."


    Mother stared incredulously. "Would you William him over your own House?"


    "We owe House Gabriel everything," said Tanith. "They have given us many privileges and many rights. We have good land in Artarq; we are treated as equals when we are far less prominent. Our names are respected.


    "Were you to betray that trust and sully our honor for political expediency, I would love you the less. Besides, Vanion would destroy us all if we made an enemy of him. If we hold our ground here now, we''ll be more potent than ever. Sell out our closest ally, and who would ever give any credit to what we say?


    "We''ll be given a traitor''s reward. To keep what we have until we lose to a favorite."


    "I will take your concerns to your Father," said Mother. "We are concerned about how Vanion keeps cutting down the nobility of Artarq, however."


    "All of them committed crimes and raised a rebellion," said Tanith. "Vanion set laws, and those laws were violated. He puts them in a position where they may choose death or loyalty.


    "They chose death, so he strips them of rank and makes a marriage alliance for legitimacy. We now face that choice. Antion might come in on his side if there is a civil war, and we''ve already beaten Kern in a proxy war. Why should our reward for victory be shackling ourselves to a sinking ship? House Telus is the future of Haldren. Shall we sell that future to a nobody who did not even send troops to Haldren?"


    "I understand what you''re saying Tanith," said Mother. "However, if you are correct, you should head at once to Gel Carn."


    "I will do so," said Tanith. "It was good to speak with you, Mother." And she headed out the door. Atria was waiting on the other side, and Tanith considered that she did not want to travel alone. So she drew a dagger and offered it to Atria.


    "Take this knife and use it however you see fit," said Tanith. "On whoever you see fit. Follow me." From there, she turned her back to Atria, who halted.


    "May I ask why, Mistress?" asked Atria, blinking.


    "I might need someone with a knowledge of languages," said Tanith, looking back.


    "I meant the knife," said Atria.


    They walked out, and Tanith rapidly donned armor and prepared for travel. Atria went garbed in black, and together they hurried north. Oxen carrying new crops were coming in and going the other way.


    "Because I want to see what you''ll do with it," said Tanith. Atria hadn''t stabbed her.


    Atria did not seem to understand this. "Do you not want me to be a submissive slave?"


    "A Harlenorian submits when it is appropriate," said Tanith. "They know their master; they serve them with absolute loyalty. They adhere to their code of conduct absolutely.


    "You''ve done all you were asked to do. Now, Why did you do all you were asked to do?"


    "Because I am a slave," said Atria.


    Tanith looked at her. "Find a new reason. Or try to kill me now. This is the best chance you''ll get; we''re in an isolated location, and you''re blade is shorter. Who are you, and what do you want?"


    Atria considered taking the blade. "Mistress, I do not hate you enough to commit suicide in a foreign land."


    "Then follow me," said Tanith. "And figure out why that is. Foreign servants go far in the service of House Gabriel by being of use. You can only be of use by being able to think. Let''s go."


    So the return journey for Tanith began.

 Chapter 184 - Thirty-Six: Honor Among Thieves

    The Thieves Guildhall of Ascorn was very lovely. Lots of chandeliers, and the torture chamber was behind a secret door in the basement, as of yet unused.


    Arkan planned to have a significant presence once Lilas took control. It was disguised as a bank, of course, whatever that was. Some advanced form of money-lending where you couldn''t hang the money lender. And in the back was a safe, kept under heavy guard, with a lot of money in it.


    Although red and Vow weren''t here, Arkan had ordered the group to disperse a bit.


    Tavish knew several people already planned to rob it if the Thieves Guild went under. And he knew Arkan knew and had done nothing. Tavish wondered if Arkan had anything better to do with the money. Then again, most of it was heavy and solid gold.


    But that didn''t matter because Tavish Kern was in love. Theirs had been a whirlwind romance stirred up in two meetings.


    Taking sight of the armor with the object of his passion, he lined up the sights. Then he fired, and the bolt sprang forward free and clear. It plunged deep into the armor, straight through where the heart had been.


    Then he shot again and got the armor in the stomach.


    "How is the target practice?" asked Lamech.


    Lamech had ratted them out, and Tavish had used his anger to try and kill him so he''d be imprisoned. Neral Dinis could not have legitimately held him, and the moment he saw William, he''d known the game was up.


    William had a way of showing up places and making things interesting. Seeing as Tavish despised most of the people, bad things happened too...


    He wasn''t so upset. He already had his money well-supplied.


    "This crossbow is amazing," said Tavish with a smile. "It takes virtually no time to train with, is easy to aim, pieces through solid metal, and even has a second shot. Bags is a genius, and chivalry is officially dead.


    "If we''d gotten this thing a few years ago, we could have forced terms on Atravain. But, as things stand, there is limitless potential. Any idiot can down the strongest knight in the best armor with a lucky shot."


    Although, to be fair, chivalry had fought a much better battle than anyone anticipated. William had set off a chain reaction of a kind. Lots of the worst bandits were hunted down, and roads were being restored. Some more brutal taskmasters had been hung, and many organizations reformed. Tavish, meanwhile, had freed virtually every slave Atravain had. He''d shifted them to locations where they could be useful in the villages.


    It had given him a lot of covers and appeased Rusara. She needed manpower. Now, at last, he had a chance to spend all that money he''d saved up. All because of knights trying to have shining armor. A good legacy.


    "Not necessasarily," said Lamech. "Proper tactics could allow one to bypass the line of sight and engage them in melee. In addition, they violate the principles of personal combat. It would be useless against demons. Bows are difficult enough to kill supernatural creatures with. You have to swear an oath or make the shot special.


    "These impersonal weapons are useless, not without expensive preparations. If you swore an oath or something to that effect to use a crossbow, that would be very impractical.


    "Where did you get it?"


    "Oh, Imogen helped me nab one of a shipment bound for Lord Kern," said Tavish. "Or Imogen, as she called herself here. It''s a different name for any other aspect. Kern hopes they can help him put down the Furbearers for good.


    "Imogen didn''t like that."


    "Nice," said Lamech. "Should be a lot of blood."


    "Gentleman, I am pleased you think chivalry is not altogether dead, but we have a crisis to deal with," said Arkan. Arkan actually liked chivalry in an intellectual sense. Mostly because he''d done a lot of adventuring with Dunmoore, and it was nostalgic.


    Tavish looked up from the firing range. It was a high-ceilinged room, and Arkan stood in leather armor. His spear was in place, and guards were around from his homeland. These were well-armed and loyal to something other than money. He looked much more admiral than thief at the moment.


    "Some crisis," said Lamech. "All you''re most reliable subordinates are only carrying legal goods. You kept all of them separate from one another. Not one of them had a discussion with you or anyone else directly.


    "This is literally the first we''ve been together out in the open like this."


    "Fine words from someone cutting and running," said Tavish.


    "You cut and ran weeks ago," said Lamech.


    "Well, obviously," said Tavish.


    Arkan sighed. "Enough.


    "Now that Cirithil has legal rights to our holdings, we''ll have to play things his way for a bit, Lamech. However, our convoys are already en route and should replenish our cash reserves. They need to learn about the resources, and Cirithil has control of the fort.


    "On the bright side, Cirithil will take most of the heat.


    "Unless...


    "Do they know about our outpost?"


    "Not to my knowledge," said Tavish. "William took no action against it there, and I think he''s making this up as he goes. If he knew about it, why not just cross the mountain and go directly there? Jehair might be smart enough to do this, but she prefers us to the Antion nobility. And she''s gonna need us for when she takes over Blackfear.


    "Larxe could figure it out, but William is a Paladin, and somehow I doubt he was sitting at that table of his own free will. Just because he convinced Larxe to attack the undead doesn''t mean she''ll listen.


    "And even if she does, his goal is to get to Gel Carn. He doesn''t even know what we''re doing out here."


    "The Dreaming Goddess has been darting around," said Lamech. "She might alert him to Cirithil''s operations."


    "What if she does?" asked Arkan with a sigh. "William has no army to gather, and Cirithil''s are, broadly speaking, in the worst of all worlds, legal. Even if he does ally with Neral Dinis to take out Cirithil and his merchant allies, what then?


    "Is he really going to rush off simply because a few are from Haldren?


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    "Jehair is going to direct him elsewhere; she hates Harlenor."


    "What if William has control of her? Redemption is a possibility," said Tavish. From a Paladin sense, anyway.


    "If that were going to happen, it would have happened long ago," said Arkan. "Jehair is not going back on everything she has been scheming for because she likes a blonde kid." Tavish reminded himself that William was younger than him. Tavish was a genius to set all this up. He wondered if William was just a prodigy. "Maybe he''ll convince her to be more lenient in her plans, but she''s not a god, and William is no messiah."


    "Master and Apprentice," said Lamech.


    "What?" said Arkan.


    "Blackguards have a philosophy," said Lamech. "You cannot learn everything by yourself. If you want to grow in strength, you must find a master. Someone you acknowledge is stronger and more varied than you.


    "It is called the Code of the Sathri.


    "William might acknowledge Jehair as a superior adventurer. He might regard her as necessary, even a worthy opponent. However, during the discussions I witnessed, he did not take her into his counsel.


    "It is possible that William has already deduced Jehair''s nature and has only been waiting to turn on her. He is simply waiting for the opportune moment. Most likely, when Larxe has savaged Cirithil and his men to death, leaving his hands clean. At that point, both he and Jehair'' are on divergent courses.


    "One of them must destroy or usurp the other. As the weaker part, if William does not usurp her now, his glory and honor go to her. So, defeat her in a sword duel or have Larxe arrest her. Or both. Send her to Antion as he did me, have her sell us out."


    "He''s wasting his time," said Arkan. "They''ll never crack Jehair; she is a zealot, not a mercenary. Her goal has been to help Antion along with their inevitable suicide. She has no family, no strong personal connections who wouldn''t be hung."


    "She might want to take us with her," said Lamech.


    "She''ll die before she chooses the nobility over the common people!" said Arkan, angrier than he expected. He''d worked with Jehair long enough to understand what she hated, and parasites were one of them.


    "She might hate both equally and see it as a chance to set them against one another," said Lamech, ever the cynic.


    "What about Princess Oresa?" asked Tavish suddenly. "She could have value as a hostage. And she''s near here. Her guardians are off raiding Babarassians while she is nice with children."


    "I already have someone watching her," said Arkan. "If the news is bad, we head for Haldren. We take the gold reserves we stashed there, sell her for what we can get, then work things out from there."


    At that moment, an officer arrived. "Admiral, sir." Arkan preferred being called Admiral when in ports. He was nostalgic for days spent patrolling the Islands of Power and battling pirates. Particularly Raj Danal and his nemesis, Kamar.


    "What is it?" asked Arkan.


    A letter was offered, and Arkan took it with a stoic face. Then, looking at the seal, he raised an eyebrow. "A letter from Maius of all people. A warning." He broke the seal and unrolled it. "Jehair has been arrested; Larxe is making an alliance with Korlac. Isriath is refounding a settlement in the old fortress. They are allied with Neral Dinis and the people of Blackfear.


    "All of our convoys are being intercepted, and those with illegal goods are detained. They know our fortress, so it is useless as a smuggling operation. The Naker will not get their slave shipments; their goods have been taken as weregild. Wild animals have devoured their satyr contacts.


    "Cirithil has gone insane after endorsing infant sacrifice. All of his merchant contacts are dead, killed by the satyrs. And the werewolves want to join the police. And William defeated Jehair in single combat before returning her scythe to Imogen."


    Dead silence.


    "So much for organized crime," said Lamech in amusement.


    "Time to cash out," decided Tavish, retrieving the bolt for his crossbow and rewinding it. None of his merchants had been involved in that. He''d figured it better to just own the fortress.


    "Henceforth, gentlemen, it is every man for himself," said Arkan as Tavish returned it.


    "Secure what escape routes you can and get out of Antion. No political protection will be of use; Korlac is out for blood. Take what money you have and go to locations that need it. Places with little respect for Antion law.


    "Try seeking passage on slave-ship; they will have a lot of empty cargo holds.


    "And stay off the road.


    "Now, if you''ll excuse me, I''m missing my exit plan.


    "RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!"


    Arkan Lantan hurled the scroll into the air, sprinted out the door, and Tavish and Lamech bolted after him. He was unsure whether to stab him, shake him down, or demand a piece of the action. Everyone in Ascorn around them also scattered. He either rushed for the door or started looting the place. The safe where the Guild Finances were kept was being ransacked as they sprinted out. Apparently, they''d started after the message got through.


    Arkan opened a side door that was kept locked, opening it with a unique key. They walked through calmly while everyone was panicking. From the looks of things, the entire street was falling into pandemonium. Maius had sent several letters.


    Coming to the place with the healers, they saw the member of the Guild who had been watching Princess Oresa. The auburn-haired had huge breasts, but nobody cared about her as a person. Finally, she looked up, and Lamech knocked her off the head, so she fell as a swoon before being carried out.


    By now, people were rushing out into the streets, trying to sell off valuables they''d had before. Others were trying to rob what stores they could before they went for the docks. Still, more were rushing straight off to get on the ships out. The gold and silver were sold, only for many people to come out and try to loot them.


    Dodging through the crowd, the three saw lines and lines of criminals. They were rushing to try and get through the ships. Tavish recognized them as some of the worst people he knew.


    "We''d better hurry," said Tavish.


    "No, don''t panic," said Arkan, walking. "Remain calm and composed and use the escape route I''ve set up. I have a small ship with enough finances to start somewhere else."


    Coming to the ship, Tavish halted.


    A minotaur and a group of cloaked men were sailing off in it. The minotaur had an eyepatch and a hook for a hand and wielded a cutlass while ships were departing. Bankers and longtime extortioners were bargaining years of ill-gotten gains. All for a place on slave ships.


    "Kamar!" roared Arkan. "What are you doing this far north? You don''t even sail outside the Islands of Power!"


    "I''m a minotaur pirate!" cried Kamar back with huge hands before his snout to magnify a gruff voice. "I sail all seas! Kafka sends his regards!"


    Arkan drew up his spear, hurled it, and caught the minotaur in the should, so he fell. But the minotaur hurled his cutlass. Arkan ducked under it and caught it before seeing it in hand. Then he broke it on the stones and tossed it away.


    "No matter," said Arkan, going to an entrance to the sewers and opening it. As he did, many money-lenders fled angry mobs, as well-liked merchants sold tar and fathers. Lamech raised a sword, and the mobs fled. "Follow me."


    And hurrying down the ladder, Arkan scaled the ladder. Meanwhile, a troop of circus performers ran off with the Guild Finances. Meanwhile, the enraged thieves went after them with pitchforks. Finally, making a stand, a bearded strongman in a dress beat them up while they seized a ship by force. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Lamech was down, and Tavish scaled down and shut the hatch. Then they got into the filth. Landing, he turned as Lamech shut the door. "I have another ship moored here. It should serve us well."


    "Why wasn''t the hatch locked?" asked Tavish.


    Coming around the corner, they saw the ship sailing out of a secret cove hidden from sight. At the back was an overweight, Babarassian clad hood to toe in brown and a cyclops wielding a huge sword. "Gentlemen, we are but poor lost circus performers," said the man. "And we''re taking your ship."


    Tavish raised his crossbow and fired two bolts. Both of which were deflected by the man''s sword. "You cheating...


    "That''s not fair!"


    "Calm yourself, Tavish," said Arkan. "This was always a possibility." And pressing a stone, the wall opened to reveal a secret door into the darkness. "This will bring us to a secondary ship I set up. One guaranteed to remain in good order and unstealable by all the Gods of Antion.


    "It was a condition of coming in here.


    "And I checked it in myself a week ago."


    And hurrying down a passage, they came through and found the ship rotting as if under a century. Its mast had broken, and it fell apart to descend half-submerged.


    "What the hell is this!" said Lamech. "Even in Antion, nothing is sacred!"


    At that moment, Kiyora Yagos appeared in a flash, blue hair flowing and clad in white armor. "Blessings of Laevian and the Dreaming Goddess, jerk." Then she sent a wave of light at Lamech, sending him reeling back. His armor cracked against the stone, shaking while Kiyora spun around and struck a pose. "See you!"


    Then she vanished in a flash. Lamech groaned in pain.


    "We''d best get well beyond the city''s walls," said Arkan, not helping Lamech up. "The panic will not have spread that far."


    And they hurried off as quickly as possible, Tavish halting to help Lamech stand. They rush up a series of steps and come out. Behind them was a scenic little village. And they were busy hanging several crooks who Tavish had played them again. Looking back, Tavish saw piers stocked with many known thieves fighting to get onto a ship. There was also a heavily guarded ship.


    Heading down, Arkan came down the hill and walked toward it.


    "Hold it right there, Arkan Lantan," said the guard. "You''re under arrest for-"


    Arkan snatched his spear and whacked him over the head with it. One of the guards went at him, but Tavish knocked him over the head with the butt of his crossbow.


    "Wait," said the guard. "That vessel isn''t seaworthy!"


    "He''s lying!" said Arkan loudly so the crowds could hear. "Onto the ship, quick!"


    Instantly a large group of fleeing people rushed past him to pile onto it in a panic. But, even as they piled on, the vessel broke beneath them and spilled them into the ocean. They plunged into the sea, spluttering and yelling in a fury. Meanwhile, Lamech cracked his knuckles. The merchant had transported some of the malas that got them here.


    "Admiral," said the man. "My ship is yours."


    Lamech punched him out and sent him to the ground. Then they took his ship and crew.


    Thus they cast off as floundering men tried to scale up the side of the ship, and Lamech laughed. The crew, meanwhile, beat them off with whips until they were forced to swim back alone. Tavish reloaded his crossbow.


    "What do you want to be done with the crew?" asked Lamech.


    "Lamech, please," said Arkan as they gathered. "These strangers have befriended us through faith alone. It would be unbecoming of gentlemen thief like ourselves to mistreat. We must use the utmost respect.


    "Indeed, a true thief must be akin to a King, first in every dangerous pursuit and last to"


    "For Viokinar!" cried Kamar. "For Kreshlak!"


    Beside them came Kamar''s pirates, waving swords and crying out in battle. The crew raised the blade to meet them. Tavish, for his part, leaped over onto the empty vessel and shoved it off with an oar. Lamech and Arkan leaped after him as the last pirates entered the vessel and halted. The crew and pirates turned in surprise as they realized what was happening.


    "Thank you, Kamar, for your gift of an unoccupied vessel!" said Arkan. "I pray that you receive the same hospitality and adventure I did with these fine men!"


    "ARKAN!!" roared Kamar. "Another time! I''ll see you dead!"


    And the fight for the vessel started. Shortly before, it capsized, and everybody had to swim back to shore. Meanwhile, Arkan got away with all his plunder, laughing.


    But Arkan was done, and they sailed as quickly as they could, not knowing or caring for the crew''s fate. As they did, Arkan looked to Tavish. "Tavish, as soon as we arrive in Haldren, begin your masterstroke. It''s the last chance you''ll get.


    "Lamech and I will initiate a plan of our own. You can get us protection until we can reform our operations. Korlac cannot be allowed to run Antion indefinitely; we''ll have to unseat him. Once he gets started, he''ll make a noose of the world.


    "Tie up Oresa, and let''s go."


    Tavish had to admit; he liked this sendoff. But it would have to be paid for.


    "Are you sure no one is following us?" asked Lamech.


    Arkan laughed. "In the chaos of the evacuation, everyone is looking after their own skins. He has no connections or preparations and is late to the party and is late to the party. William will be hard-pressed to even know we were here."


    "William works for Kiyora Yagos," noted Lamech.


    Tavish didn''t care.


    This had been a bad month. But at least he''d got to see the thing collapse in spectacular fashion. It had been... fun.


    Now they had to deal with the aftermath, and that was not going to be fun.


    Three.

 Chapter 185 - Thirty-Seven: Flight from Antion

    That night, they sailed on beneath the stars, with a brisk wind moving them quickly. Tavish thought he''d done a very good job binding and gagging Princess Oresa. He liked how she looked tied up with her orange hair across her shoulders. And he also liked that, lying against the side of the boat, she did not make any attempt at escape. She was scared but observing, and Tavish guessed she was smart.


    Otherwise, the exact opposite of Tanith. A bit ironic. The swaying of the ship was a bit distracting, but he''d learned to deal with it years ago. He''d only felt a little sick during that time.


    "Are you sure nobody is following us?" asked Lamech, sitting down on the steps leading to the upper deck.


    Didn''t he ever stop?


    "As I said before, Lamech, that would be impossible," said Arkan, checking the sail. The horizon before them was in the twilight of the morning, and the clouds were clustering strong. The waves washed against them as a favorable wind sent them forth. "No one in Harlenor knows what we have done, and Isamu and his people are over in Sorn. Even if they know what is happening now, they can''t get here fast enough."


    "What about William?" asked Lamech.


    "William has no connection to this woman," said Tavish.


    "William has a lot of divine support," said Lamech, looking back. "And they might indulge him if he has a vendetta. They can cut travel times if they are angry enough. They''ve done it for you."


    "Elranor is focused on the plague. Laevian created the plague. And Barden is hands-off except for natural disasters," said Arkan. "Farasa might, but she is on our side. If we are taken out, Baltoth will have radicals to deal with.


    "Vanion can''t represent Antion. And even if he could be alerted, what of it?


    "We have moved at a breakneck pace, got off on a pre-planned ship on an abandoned pier in the dead of night. Even if he had our bearings, he would have to go up to Ascorn to find a ship. They don''t sail at night, and most of them are on a war footing."


    "He could use Tavish''s coves," noted Lamech. "And Baltoth favors House Gabriel; he respects them."


    "There might be ships there; the entrance is hard to find," said Tavish. "And it was guarded last I checked. If the Furbearers hadn''t completely packed up-"


    "They might not even be there anymore. For all we know, they''ve left," said Arkan. "And even if he catches the first boat off, after getting past all that and getting our bearings, he has to catch us."


    "William is good at climbing," said Lamech. "And has a great deal of endurance to have kept up with us."


    "In full armor?" asked Arkan. "Who is he going to leave it with? Peasants he hardly knows? His servant? Even if he can rely on him, would he really come alone? Rush all this way on a chimera, go on a boat and keep after us?


    "For this girl alone?"


    "If he discovered the names of some of the merchants," said Lamech. "He might guess there was a conspiracy in Haldren. If I were him, I''d be paranoid."


    "Perhaps the Princess could have some hand in this?" asked Tavish. "Farasa might take her seizure personally."


    "The Princess does not have any formal announcement and has many sisters," said Arkan. "Ergo, she is not of major importance. I don''t actually think she''s valuable.


    "But someone might be stupid enough to think she''s valuable. Maybe we can trick Isamu into destroying one of our enemies."


    "It might alienate Farasa," noted Tavish.


    "Damn Farasa," said Arkan. "She''s been using Gabriel against us. This whole time he''s been in exactly the right place at the right time to smash things.


    "He''s playing the Spear of Destiny here.


    "We had a good thing going until she decided to plant Reg Hawkthorne in Ascorn. I believe she envisioned a kind of... revolution of order, where Antion took the same path as Calisha.


    "As things stand, we end in stalemate."


    "But are you sure nobody is following us?" asked Lamech.


    "Why do you keep asking?" asked Arkan.


    "Because there''s a ship coming up behind us," said Lamech, pointing back with a smug smile.


    Arkan looked up, and Tavish followed his gaze. Sure enough, there was a ship with only two crewmen. It was a small vessel that one man could handle and bounced along the waves nicely. Arkan went to the back. "...It''s some random do-gooder trying to save a damsel in distress he thinks he has come across by chance."


    "On a ship with Amenos on it?" asked Lamech.


    Sure enough, there was Amenos. And with him was a boy younger than Tavish. He had long blonde hair and wore a ragged, travel-stained tunic. It was long defiled by the road and bore signs of mending. Yet he himself moved with confidence and at his side was a familiar black sword.


    "Damn it!" said Arkan. "How the devil is keeping up with us?!"


    "They must have had the pier watched," said Tavish. "Farasa could not have set this up right away. As you said, she turned on us in Ascorn."


    "Some luck," said Lamech. "Both of you row! Row!"


    They went to it at once.


    It was the first time Tavish had seen Lamech worried, and the oars were pulled repeatedly. Oresa roused herself, but a glare from Lamech made her wilt.


    "We could board and fight them," said Tavish. "We outnumber them."


    "No good," said Arkan. "Both are dangerous. Some of us would die, and we can''t afford to lose any reliable allies right now."


    Tavish nodded, and while they started rowing, he raised his crossbow and aimed at Amenos. Amenos drew and pulled back a bow, and both launched at once. An arrow landed on the deck, whizzing over Tavish''s head. His bolt landed in the stern. Trying again, he peeked over the edge but ducked as another arrow was launched. It lodged quivering an inch away from Tavish''s foot.


    Firing, this time at William, Tavish saw him hit the deck.


    So it continued, and Amenos and William were kept ducking so that soon they fell behind. Now the three of them raced ahead, and Arkan stood up. "No more rowing. We need our strength."


    "You know you''ll be caught," said Oresa, pulling her gag off. "My Father is a mighty King of Kalthak. And Isamu will be coming after me soon. Cadas can track anything, and Urus has already deduced who did this and where they are.


    "No matter what castle you take me to, they''ll storm it."


    "Perfect," said Arkan. "We can use you to start a war. Thank you for the information. Gag her."


    "MMMPH!!" shouted Oresa.


    On they went, and William and Amenos kept a distance behind them. It was a tense and silent race through dark waters. The wind was their only companion, and Tavish hated it more by the day. Almost as much as he hated pulling on the oars, this kind of labor was not his thing.


    "I just don''t think this strategy is worthy of us," said Lamech. "Kidnapping and such."


    "Am I going insane?!" said Tavish, pulling the oars faster. "Or did a Blackguard just complain about a crime being beneath his morality?! You were not hired to be a bleeding heart idealist, you dark-armored psychopath!"


    "It''s a matter of professional pride," said Lamech.


    "Not anymore, thanks to you," said Tavish.


    "Wasn''t Jehair a champion of the common people?" asked Lamech.


    "I''d say the people have made their verdict," said Tavish. "That means we''re not the villains.


    "House Gabriel is ripping our empire to shreds, and we have to get him preoccupied before things get bad."


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    "I can find work elsewhere," said Lamech. "Bretus is easy to get a high-ranking position in if you say and do the right things."


    "As can I," said Arkan. "Do not think that your lineage makes you better than me, Lamech? Between the two of us, my operations have been the more successful. And you are the more obvious one to hang."


    "Of all the necks on this boat, Arkan, you should most be concerned about your own," said Lamech, and his tone had hatred. His hand went to his sword, and Tavish went for his dagger.


    "You need me much more than I do you, Lamech," said Arkan.


    "I do not need you, Arkan," said Lamech. "And I owe you nothing."


    "Oh, you do," said Arkan, grasping his spear. "You define yourself in opposition to the forces of ''good'' whatever they are. You can''t conceive of a thing for yourself. That''s why you needed Karus.


    "You never had any real plan to achieve what you wanted, aside from following orders and sewing chaos. So I put you in a position where you could do that without disrupting my plans. You have been well paid consistently by me, and I have never cheated you or gone behind your back.


    "Don''t insult my intelligence by saying that you don''t owe me anything. You do. Just as you owe the man who killed your Father.


    "What happened to your search for that murderer? Or were you just using it as your excuse?"


    "You never cared about it," said Lamech. "Why bring it up now if not to save yourself?" Arkan was going to kill Lamech.


    "Obviously not; it''s not my Father. I knifed him ages ago after he threw a spear at me for outdoing his military record," said Arkan. "But you did at one point. You wouldn''t have sold your soul for the power to kill him otherwise.


    "You can''t seriously tell me you''ve been looking for him this whole time.


    "I gave you the world he was from and that he was in Harlenor. You know his face, so the answer has been right in front of you all along. Were you even trying to solve it? Could you have finished the job with a swing of your sword?


    "So why did you wait?"


    "You have a theory?" scoffed Lamech.


    "It is because you were afraid," said Arkan. "You were afraid to take your revenge because you knew that revenge would be justice. You knew you''d be the hero if you took it, if only for a moment.


    "So you played second fiddle to Tavish for years and let Gabriel rip your holdings to shreds. And you pretend as if none of it matters to you when people point out your failures. ''It''s just money.'' ''I care not.'' But money is power, provided you know how to use it.


    "If money has no value, it is not money."


    "Then perhaps I should just kill you where you stand!" said Lamech, dropping his oar and drawing his sword.


    "If you want to challenge me, Blackguard, you''d best be prepared to die," said Arkan, raising his oar in defiance. He was unarmored, and Lamech still flinched. Tavish dropped his ore in disgust.


    And he said the kind of tone that you never wanted to disobey. The last person who''d tried it had been killed on the spot. Lamech held his gaze, but Tavish saw that his hand was shaking.


    ''Lamech is afraid of Arkan,'' realized Tavish stopping himself from saying it.


    "I just might," said Lamech. He hauled on his oar all the stronger.


    "And I just might use you to patch things up with Furbearers," said Arkan. "Is that what you want?


    "Be assured; I didn''t just keep you on hand here because you''re my son. I also did it because letting the Furbearers rip you to shreds might buy me passage. And Tavish right now is a lot more valuable than you."


    Silence.


    "What of Prince Aras?" asked Lamech, sheathing his sword.


    "Good," said Arkan. "You''ve started to think proactively again. We''re liable to lose all of the Thieves Guild''s holdings in this continent.


    "We became sloppy and complacent."


    "What of Prince Aras?" asked Lamech.


    "King Gavin prefers to administer from his castle," said Tavish. "Prince Aras likes going abroad. However, we have no communication; his job, as far as I can tell, is to wreck my plans when they don''t go his way."


    "Why not just ask?" asked Oresa innocently.


    "It doesn''t work that way," said Tavish. "If I go around sending reports to King Gavin on what I have to do, he is obligated to shut it all down. Do you think I work with a Blackguard so I can redeem his soul?


    "I do nasty stuff to keep the criminal element in line and out of royal business. Lamech takes care of that stuff, and I keep him channeled on people who need knifing. Do you want me to send him back to where he was before?


    "Murdering random corrupt officials for the greater evil in Antion?"


    "No, thank you," said Oresa.


    "And you, Arkan," said Tavish. "Before I entered things, Aras was planning to take you out personally. He would have rubbed you out years ago, damn the nobility if I hadn''t said you''d keep things organized!


    "Well, what do you call this?!


    "If you had just murdered everyone who acted contrary to the Crown we''d be fine right now."


    "Well, truth be told, spending all my time murdering people who trust me does not appeal," said Arkan.


    "Oh, pitch the loveable rogue nonsense, Arkan," said Tavish. "We''re professional murderers.


    "Our job is to brutalize the criminal element into control by any means necessary. If you''d just done your job, none of this would have happened!"


    "I wish you''d stop pretending like you were a grown-up," said Oresa. "You''re not that much older than me."


    "And in the space of five minutes, the Princess becomes a better criminal than you, Tavish," said Arkan. "The gentleman thief persona is not entertainment; it is essential. Even an illusion of culture and class can be of great use.


    "Pure brutality has its virtues but doesn''t work in the long term. I kept things safe for years by a velvet glove."


    "You shouldn''t have been keeping things safe!" said Tavish. "Your job was to engineer the downfall of your own organization! Why the hell do you think I deliberately made all those villages self-sufficient?


    "The purpose of the Thieves Guild is to exterminate the worst of the criminal underworld. Then you will your own downfall. But you and the other noble elitist bastards weren''t satisfied with that were you?


    "You betrayed your own god and imprisoned him for ten years. Now you''re surprised that he''s engineering your downfall! If you''d just stuck by Elranor, we might have had a chance."


    "That isn''t my jurisdiction," said Arkan.


    "You could have reigned in Cirithil with a few threatening words," said Tavish. "You didn''t do that because you didn''t care!


    "You ruined the prospects of an entire nation because you felt powerful when everyone else was starving! Your children''s children are going to be dealing with your screwups! And for what?! S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Because it was convenient? Because it was a little less troublesome to destroy the future of your species than putting a bit of effort in now. And when anyone tried to be a hero, you had only sneering excuses!


    "''If we''re going to have crime, we might as well have organized crime.'' ''Vampires aren''t a problem; they''re just misunderstood.'' ''Humans are the real monsters.'' ''A King is just someone who chopped off more heads than another person.'' And my personal favorite;


    "''Beware of heroes!'' Means that there''s no such thing as a hero, so you don''t have to feel bad counting your blood money!


    "Well, you did it, Arkan! You successfully destroyed the very concept of heroism itself ! So who''s going to save you?"''


    "You''re forgetting who you''re-" began Arkan.


    "Shut up," said Tavish. "There aren''t any bosses anymore on this ship. The chain of command is done!


    "I have never been your subordinate, Arkan! I''ve never been Elranor''s subordinate, and I was never a servant of justice! I was a servant of my country, Harlenor, and everything it stood for.


    "And now there is no Harlenor! Just a hodgepodge of evil races ripping the lower classes to shreds for fun. All while you mug bastards sneer at them from your manors!


    "Well, it won''t work! Because there''s a King coming to set this place to rights. All despite your best efforts, you worthless servant! And it''ll all be on your head, you selfish, conceited bastard!


    "Cirithil and Jehair are done for! And I hope it''s your home and family next!"


    Arkan was silent. For the first time since Tavish had ever seen him, he was completely speechless. He opened his mouth, looked back to the ship chasing them silently, and then toward the land before them.


    Turning away, Arkan looked suddenly forty years old. A man nearing old age who had only now remembered it. Finally, he turned around. "Anyone who threatens my home or family, Tavish, will die for it.


    "Do you understand that?"


    "Perfectly," said Tavish. "But it won''t do you any good once the Heir of Kings returns. And they will now. The nobility have no credibility left, and they know it. They''ll need her to make anything of this mess."


    "Good," said Arkan. "Sir Gabriel is too late. We have reached the Cliffs of Torment.


    "Even if he scales up that way, we''ll be waiting. They can''t stop us now."


    The cliffs of torment soared skyway like jagged teeth out of a foaming sea. The storm clouds looked nearly ready to burst, and Tavish hated the idea of climbing in the rain. Closer they went, and into a little inlet that went nowhere but up. They leaped off the boat, donning gloves and moving Oresa out.


    There was a rope hanging down, long-prepared in advance. It was designed to withstand all elements of magic. From the looks of things, it was in perfect condition.


    They had gained some distance from William by now. And they took some time to rest as the boat slowly came closer. Finally, Arkan stood up.


    "Lamech, you have the Princess," said Arkan. "Tavish goes first, then myself."


    Tavish grasped the rope and secured his crossbow. Then he began to scale up as quickly as he could, hating it. Arkan had insisted they learn this, and only now did he realize why. Arkan had a somewhat mythical notion of what a thief was. It was disconnected from crime entirely. As he went up, a glance down revealed Lamech and Arkan behind them. Oresa was tied to Lamech''s back like baggage, and up they went.


    Higher and higher, yet an arrow shot near Tavish''s hand, and they looked back to see William and Amenos nearing. This would be narrow. He scaled hand over hand, thanking him that he was the lightest. Yet an arrow hit the wall near him and another close at hand. Below, he saw Amenos and William scaling up after them quickly.


    The cliffs seemed to stretch on forever, and no matter what they did, it did not seem to get closer. On and on, the relentless chase went, and Tavish''s arms ached in labor. Yet behind him, he saw William gaining, going far above Amenos. Gods above, how did he scale so quickly? He was nearly at Lamech now.


    At last, Tavish reached the top and leaped over ahead of Arkan. Knowing he didn''t have a moment to lose, he moved to the rock where the rope was tied. Around them were many boulders and broken stones. And a little ways off were the ruins of an ancient Furbearer mill, once the most advanced of its kind. Its secrets of using the wind had long since been rediscovered. But it stood there nonetheless.


    Kneeling down, Tavish began to undo the rope. He''d get it back after this was over. But Lamech came, tossed the Princess down like an unwanted package, and drew his sword.


    "Wait!" said Tavish.


    "Pride cometh before the fall," laughing Lamech. Then he brought his sword down and severed the rope in one swift stroke. It went over the edge and slipped away.


    Arkan smiled. "They had just enough rope to hang themselves.


    "Shut up," said Tavish, laughing despite himself. "That''s not funny."


    The Princess seemed to think this in terrible taste. Tavish, however, moved over to the edge and made sure Lamech wasn''t behind him. Looking down, he saw William and Amenos still climbing. They''d fallen some distance but had caught themselves and were moving up. At this moment, the storm broke, and it began to rain.


    "Lamech," said Tavish. "Take care of them. If you kill them, fine; if not, we''ll make a deal."


    "Fine by me," said Lamech.


    Arkan looked to Tavish. "Let''s get out from under the rain. We''ll take the Princess to weather the storm and see what fate has to offer."


    The rain intensified.


    "Princess Oresa, consider this an opportunity," said Arkan. He picked her up and slung her over one shoulder. "Don''t run off; these Furbearers are not fond of foreigners. The last batch used to live over there in the ruins."


    So they ran for it as Lamech found a suitable boulder.

 Chapter 186 - Thirty-Eight: The Cliffs of Thrakmul

    The good news was that they were in time, and Amenos had insisted they bear cloaks as they scaled. The bad news was that William was halfway up a sheer cliff. He had no rope in the middle of the rain in the most desolate region of Haldren. The rocks were slick with seawater and sharp, even through his gloves.


    A sense of vertigo went over him as he scaled higher and remembered what they were getting into. Lamech and two others were waiting on the top with weapons. It was nearly impossible to hear what they said past the wind.


    All this to save some women he''d had about one conversation with?


    William would love to say he was here to check Ran Telus. But he hadn''t had to diverge to follow Arkan after he saw him, and that had been mere chance. He had just discovered who it was when he saw Lamech midway into the pursuit.


    Now, the wind was whipping around their cloaks. Higher William scaled with gloved hands, and Amenos was behind him. Finding footholds in this darkness was hard, and both had a miracle. The rain was cold as it dropped onto his face, and he shivered.


    Climbing down was even more brutal than climbing up, and he needed to learn the footholds.


    "Not exactly what I was hoping for when I made port," said Amenos with a rare smile.


    "What were you hoping for?" asked William, finding a rough patch and scaling up, moving his knee up to find somewhere to stand on. Unfortunately, it was a tough place to scale by.


    "A nice inn, dinner with the wife," laughed Amenos.


    At that moment, a flash of lightning was above as a bolt struck the rocks further down. The cliff suffered, and stones fell around them as the sea was illuminated. And above them was Lamech, who appeared as a silhouette, clad once again in armor. Above him, he looked like a menacing god of sorts. In his hands was a huge boulder raised skyward. "Greetings to you, Paladin."


    Well, William was at a disadvantage.


    "This is not as easy as it looks," said William. "So if you''re hoping for a sword duel, you ought to be sporting about this." He was well past being surprised.


    "No," said Lamech, smiling through his facemask of teeth.


    And he tossed the boulder, letting it roll down the side while laughing maniacally. But it went too far to the side and moved to the left. The sound of it cracking on the stone was deafening, reechoing off the walls as sparks flew near him. Keeping his hand despite the heat and shaking rock, William scrambled upwards. But Lamech picked up another and hurled that, sending it bouncing down the slopes to the right. They cracked and broke, and rock splinters went everywhere as William neared the top, now in a mad dash. His hand hurt from a sharp stone, but the skin did not break. His foot slipped, sending tiny rocks down, but he kept going up.


    The closer he got, the better Lamech''s aim. The cliff was sparking and shaking with the strikes as lightning shattered the sky. Rain poured all around them, soaking them.


    At last, Lamech hurled a boulder in a dead-center shot. William knew it would hit him and used his arms to throw himself to one side. The boulder shot past him, and its coursed missed Amenos, who was further down. William found a foothold and scaled up like mad, scraping his leg. Getting to the top, he saw Lamech approaching him with a sword, and for a moment, he was exposed.


    But Lamech stumbled and fell to one knee from his labors in armor, tired from his throwing. William rose up, drew his sword, and stabbed for Lamech''s face plate. But Lamech''s white sword parried it, and the duel was on. He swung at William, and William leaped back. He felt the wind of the blade on his neck and realized he''d nearly lost his head. William jumped away and smote him on the head with the flat of his sword. The blade rang out, and Lamech grunted right before he lashed out.


    An armored gauntlet hit William in the gut, sending him to the ground, and William fell to one knee, stunned. He saw Lamech''s feet before him and rolled away on reflection. At that exact moment, the White Sword came down to cleave into the stone. As William stood up, sparks flew up and set fire to a nearby push. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Retreating back onto rocky terrain, William saw Lamech advancing. Behind him, a bush was struck by lightning and lit into an inferno even in the rain. Slowed by the heavy stones and rocks, William saw the city of Thrakmul far beyond. It stood beside them in ancient ruins. Once a place of terrible dark power, with many horrible spires rising upward. They reeked of dark energy, designed like Gel Carn. Yet in ancient days, long before the rise of House Gabriel, this place had been a paradise of darkness.


    All the horrors and rituals seen in Antion had been there and more. And those who were called the Furbearer sacrificed infants upon it. Lamech saw it as well, and the idea seemed to please him. And he raised a hand toward it as William had before, and William saw in Thrakmul a vision of past and future.


    A place where dark creatures flew overhead, and men were sacrificed on altars to the Shark Queen. Where fresh new horrors marched forth to plague his people. All to achieve the vengeance of the Furbearers. He saw a great rampage, a Jihad where Kata and Sokar or those like him led those in a bloodbath.


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    Old men and women were murdered en masse, and children were slain in bloody tribute. The land of Antion made excuses for the atrocities of the sins of the past. The redemption of Antion for these atrocities would be looking the other way to new ones. And those who rebuilt this place would make vengeance their goal.


    And Kata and Sokar and all the others would be damned for their atrocities.


    Lamech smiled.


    No, it would not happen.


    William charged at Lamech, roaring in rage. Lamech was taken off guard, and his sword was knocked aside. William got him across the shoulder, and the impact sent him reeling. Another blow bit into Lamech''s helm and caught him on the side of the head. But Lamech made a move with his own sword.


    William leaped back on instinct, and Lamech''s sword slashed the cloth on his legs. Now he knew how close he''d been to death. Circling one another, William saw Lamech was favoring his left side. Rushing to his right, he ducked under Lamech''s sword and grabbed him by the left shoulder. Vaulting over him, Lamech grunted in pain before William hit him in the back. The blade of the blow nearly jarred his sword from him, but Lamech fell to one knee. William raised his sword to strike again, but a fist from Lamech got him in the gut. He staggered back, spitting out blood and feeling in agony. Lamech stood up as William readied to strike again.


    Then Lamech fell to one knee, coughing up his own blood. He seemed unable to continue, and William stepped back to let him rise.


    He would not strike a helpless opponent.


    Gasping for air, William saw Amenos standing up, fainting with weariness. Then Lamech grasped a stone, and William ducked. It shot past where his head had been as Lamech roared and attacked. His sword now burned with an unholy flame as lightning surrounded the sky. Yet the lightning reflected off the Black Sword. As it shone, it illuminated the world for a single instant.


    Now they saw it, a desolate and terrible wasteland of destruction. And Thrakmul no longer seemed the horror. The old ways of evil were done, and those who sought to resurrect them would fail. There would be struggles and battles. But the world would pass into greater enlightenment. A world where the old things were restored. But without the corruption that destroyed them.


    A new and decent place where strangers could be treated with kindness and without fear.


    Lamech thought it fit only for death.


    William saw a new beginning.


    Both charged toward one another, and their swords clashed. Hellfire met heaven''s light, meeting on strength and strength. Straining against one another, William could feel the stones way beneath Lamech''s might. Yet Lamech could not feel it in his armor. As he stepped forward, William fell to one knee so that his enemy stumbled and fell to the ground.


    Lamech rose up, blade striking, but now William held the high ground and disarmed him with a riposte. Another stroke sent him onto his back, his armor cracking.


    No more chances. William saw before him the manifestation of everything wrong with this world. It would not happen again.


    "You die today, Blackguard," said William.


    And he raised his sword to plunge the blade in through his faceplate. Even as he did, however, William screamed. A power surged down, and he felt agony in his flesh, covering his body. His limbs went weak, he couldn''t breathe, and his vision was fading save for Lamech. No matter how he gasped, the air was not coming in fast. His heart was beating like a drum, and his vision blurred.


    "Yes," said Lamech in dark joy. "You feel it, don''t you?


    "All those plagues you''ve been wiping out. All in the domain of Laevian. Did you think there wouldn''t be any payment for it?" And he snatched his sword and rose. "It''s ironic, you spend all this time putting the God Triumvirate back in power.


    "And the first thing they do is let Laevian wipe you off the map."


    William could hardly speak or breathe. He fought to heal the infection and diseases coursing through him. They became worse and worse by the moment and nothing he could stop it. "...You exaggerate."


    "This is where you fall, Paladin!" roared Lamech. He raised his sword to stab him in the heart.


    William mustered all his power and rolled aside while screaming in agony. Lamech''s stroke stabbed deep into the stone; however, he could not draw it out. And as he was marveling at what he had done, William scrambled up. Then, rising, he smote him on the head and then the shoulder and hit him repeatedly. Every blow was like a thousand weary steps as he forced him away from his sword and toward the ledge.


    But Lamech grabbed his hand and shook the blade from it. Then, snatching him by the cloak, he pulled him around to dangle over the edge.


    "I will be the successor to Melchious!" said Lamech. "And you will be the first of many worthy opponents to die!" And he reached for William''s throat.


    He had only a moment before dark fingers closed around his throat.


    So he snatched the claps of his cloak, loosened it, and slipped through. Catching himself on the ledge, Lamech looked down in surprise. William grabbed Lamech by the belt and pulled him forward. As he did, Lamech screamed in rage and pulled over the edge while William went up.


    But Lamech grasped him by the leg and nearly pulled him down. Amenos grabbed William''s arm, even as Lamech tried to scale up over him. Snatching up his sword, William swung with all his might. Unfortunately, the first blow cut straight into the steel.


    "I''ve had enough of this journey!!" roared William, striking him again. "Die and be forgotten!!"


    And he hit Lamech a final time. The Blackguard howled as his grip was loosed. He slipped from the cliffs, fell toward the raging seas below, and landed between the rocks. A great wave of water splashed away around him as William dangled. As thunder roared, William knew his armor would drown him. And you could not shed it so quickly. Yet even as he thought this, William saw what might have been an armored hand climbing up one of the rocks. Pulling itself up, Lamech emerged onto the stones, his every move in agony. So now he stood in the rain, shipwrecked on rocks alone.


    From the failing darkness came a swift vessel, crewed by a minotaur and his men who came to him. So Lamech bartered passage with them and sold out his friends for means to survive. William stared at the unfairness of it. But he was nearly slipping himself, desperately trying to scale up. Then, a pair of hands caught him and pulled him up. A cloak was put around him, and William saw Amenos near him.


    "Thank you, Amenos," said William.


    "Well, you did most of the fighting thus far," said Amenos. "Let''s see about this Princess of yours."


    So they headed toward the only shelter they could see. And Old Mill of strange architecture, near the broken ruins of what had once been a good land.


    The light began to break in the heavens above. But the rain continued for a time.

 Chapter 187 - Thirty-Nine: Reunited

    The lands around William were barren and broken, with rocks strewn about them. Some were smooth from rainfall or had lain in craters. There was no air of corruption as in Blackfear. It was not corrupted as Blackfear but simply dead. It was all broken stone and shattered walls. The wind howled, even as the rain let up and the world was bathed in golden light.


    These desolate ruins now seemed beautiful, an echo of past glories. And William thought it could not have been as terrible as Lamech thought. Evil was by nature a corruption of what was, and Thrakmul could not be built without many virtues.


    He saw roots and trees growing up around him. This land was not entirely dead, and they refreshed themselves at a spring Amenos found. The water was heavenly on their mouths as they dried themselves. Once done, they filled their canteens.


    "I hate to leave the ship," said Amenos. "But it doesn''t seem we''ll have a chance to return for it."


    William nodded.


    Clambering through the ruins by day and night, he and Amenos headed after Arkan and Tavish.


    It was a painful journey, leading into the ruins in the rain. The mill they''d tracked them to was found empty. They''d stayed long enough to watch the fight and warm themselves. Then they''d headed off. But it wasn''t long before the rain returned, pushing them harder. The very walls of Thrakmul seemed to be fighting against them. William kept a spell aloft, illuminating his surroundings with the sun spirit. Meanwhile, Amenos shivered in the rain.


    "This is no good," said Amenos. "We should find shelter and wait. Tavish and Arkan will not move on unless we press them."


    Soon enough, they took shelter beneath an overhang and waited. The rain poured down as they did, and they tried to keep themselves warm without a fire. All around were jagged rocks and fallen buildings. As they watched, William saw the remnants of a great wall. But it was now battered into nothingness, where the city began.


    It was a city, wasn''t it?


    Looking back, he saw remnants of an ancient harbor standing in place. A shattered tower was on either side, and an island was far off. Fields that could have once been fertile were now destroyed utterly. Once or twice, they found old bones, clutching ancient weapons preserved by magic.


    "What did this?" asked William.


    "Anoa the Bright," said Amenos. "He and Neral Dinis had a personal enmity. Neral Dinis lured him here, and Anoa followed. The spirits of the land supported Neral Dinis, so Anoa destroyed them.


    "In fairness, the Furbearers were not nice." Amenos grinned. "Neral Dinis initiated the hostilities in the most dishonorable and destructive ways."


    "I know," said William. "Anoa cursed this land to remain barren. This is Thrakmul, the Desolate City. All who walk here are unwelcome.


    "Tavish must have come here to arrive in secret." He saw minor signs of growth returning, the grass here and there in the dirt. Even so, there were many stretches where the ground was pure, barren rock. "It seems the wrath of Anoa has waned."


    Yet now and then, he heard whispers, voices of wrath that went through the rocks. They spoke of fires burning day and night, of slaughter unheard of.


    At that moment, they saw the light in the distance as the rain died. William looked to Amenos, and both drew swords and headed toward it. Then, hurrying off as quick as they could, they tried to stay out of sight of it. Eventually, they came to an acropolis with a broken structure at the top. A palace or temple, perhaps? Or a granary?


    Scaling up the hill, they came to the light of the fire and found Arkan and Tavish speaking with two Furbearers. Sokar and Kata were on the opposite time beneath a large canvass shelter.


    "Ah, hail the conquering hero! Get the man a drink!" called Arkan.


    What?


    "Kata, Sokar, what are you doing out here?" said William, sheathing his sword in bemusement. "Why are you drinking with these scoundrels?"


    "This was once the great Furbearer City of Thrakmul," said Kata with a shrug. "Neral Dinis had his fortress here and long contended with Anoa. For sixteen years, the armies of Haldren laid siege to it. Anoa was often called away to other businesses.


    "But at last, it fell.


    "And my people fell to flee into the hills and hide in snows. You can still find skeletons out here in this place. Harlenorian and Furbearer, like snowflakes melting in the sun. We''ve been giving them proper burials according to their heritage."


    "Was this arranged?" asked William. "Why are you working together?"


    "No," said Sokar. "They just happened to enter after we did."


    "It was a good fight," said Tavish, sharpening a knife.


    "We didn''t want to meddle without knowing the sides," said Kata. "And well, you were the one who taught us that politics weren''t personal. So we didn''t like the idea of fighting them just for vengeance.


    "So we''re just happy you took out their friend. Lamech was not pleasant.


    "Which side are you on, William?"


    William blinked. "What are the sides?"


    "It doesn''t even matter at this point," said Sokar, looking at Tavish warily. "By learning the sides, you shift the balance of power and change what they are. As a result, we''ve had a small war on the borders of our land and gained peace.


    "Now we are out here scouting these parts."


    "To what end?" asked William.


    "I wanted to see if we might resettle this area, but the land is still desolate," said Sokar. "I don''t think the spirits of this place want anyone living here."


    "Everywhere I go, I feel the hatred of the land," said Kata. "This place of consumed by wrath. And I don''t think it is directed at any one place. But, at least we can give some of the dead peace."


    "How did you fair?" asked William. "I''ve had no news of you since the death of Lord Rius."


    That was how an extended explanation of events came to William. He noted to get Tanith to write down her story at some point.


    The account of the war between Kern and the Furbearers fascinated him. But Amenos was concerned about this.


    "If Lord Kern has lost the war," said Amenos. "Then Gavin''s next move is subversion. Turn House Telus against House Gabriel and divide them. Once that happens-"


    "The Furbearers are completely reliant on House Telus," said Arkan. "Gavin can move right in. King Osrif will end up a glorified vassal to House Telus.


    "Whereas if it doesn''t happen, Duke Vanion can mediate between powers. Which gives you, Prince Sokar, the advantage."


    William looked over to where Oresa was thinking silently. "Do you have any input in this, milady?"


    "Well," said Oresa. "I was recently kidnapped again.


    "But now that you''re here, I''m rescued. Duke Vanion has a right to keep his holdings. And it will be better for everyone if he does.


    "But having a full-scale war over it won''t be good."


    "So where is Felix?" asked Kata quickly, brushing her hair back.


    "Guarding my armor," said William. "Inglorious, but I had to come after the lady here as quickly as possible."


    "Yes, I really appreciate it," said Oresa. "Why come after me, though?"


    "I was going to head to Ran Telus to investigate possible disloyalty," said William. "Felix will have sent a letter by now, knowing him. Father should learn of it by his own devices.


    "However, en route, I was informed of your taking by Farasa and came after you.


    "This is Amenos, an old friend of my mentor Rusara."


    "A pleasure to meet you," said Amenos, offering a hand.


    Oresa took it, and Kata looked to Oresa with lingering eyes, then William.


    "You observed the battle?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Sokar. "And we won''t be shedding any tears over him. Lamech was cruel to the slaves he captured. I can''t believe someone that evil is my age."


    "Lamech was twisted by the world," said William. "I think he just decided to be what he was rather than fighting it."


    "Yes, well, it was a splendid fight," said Arkan.


    "Aren''t you going to lament your son?" asked Oresa, concerned.


    "Lamech wouldn''t want me to," said Arkan. "Our arrangement was master and apprentice, a Sathri concept. He viewed me as a valuable resource and someone he could learn from. His status as my adopted son was insurance; he couldn''t inherit if he murdered me.


    "It was also a penance.


    "My Father was a great sea captain and was Admiral before me. However, over time, he went mad and one day went after myself and my Mother. He was drunk, traumatized, and beyond reason. To defend her, I slew him with a knife and dedicated my life to restoring my homeland.


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    "I asked the gods how to purify myself of sin.


    "They told me to adopt a Blackguard as my own. Lamech was an excellent subordinate, but it was ultimately him or me. And he might still be alive, so I don''t intend to get sentimental."


    "Kata?" asked William, noting her eyes on him. She had tied her hair above her head and wore red garments like Farasa''s. They seemed to be cut the same, only more concealing.


    "...I''ve never seen you without armor. You look nice," said Kata.


    "Are you sure you have no ill will?" asked William suddenly.


    "We''ve already killed more than our fair share of Harlenorians," said Kata. "We both seem to be dying people anyway."


    Dying peoples? Perhaps that was why Jehair had been so keen to take advantage. They were dying people.


    "Not anymore," said William. "The worst has been averted."


    "Well, all our people got home, amazingly," said Kata. "I guess we lucked out. Unfortunately, many of us were killed after Tanith and Father attacked Lord Kern."


    "I liked it," said Sokar.


    "I know you liked it, Sokar," said Kata. "I didn''t. Helping find places to ambush and kill people is not my fun idea."


    "William, about Neral Dinis?" asked Sokar. "How did he strike you?" S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Reasonable," said William. "But dangerous, and I should be cautious about meeting with him. I met him when he was backed into a corner. In a position of power, I cannot say."


    "There''s been talk of raising shrines to him," said Sokar. "I know you hate undead, but we have a history. To us, he seems like the hero, almost a benefactor."


    "Well, opening a dialogue is a good idea," said Arkan quickly. "If Neral Dinis acknowledges you as an equal or even a lesser power, it would be a powerful piece. By doing so, you ensure King Osrif has real credibility. No one can just walk in.


    "You also might relearn some of your old ways.


    "But there is a cost to everything. I have no idea what it might be, but you''ll have to pay it sooner or later."


    "We know that now," said Sokar.


    "House Telus is closer to you and a longtime friend of House Gabriel," said Amenos to William. "It would be better to think of how to convince them to remain hand in hand with you. They have the potential for a real military alliance."


    "I''m heading there, actually," said Tavish.


    "Why?" asked William.


    "Edmund Telus has many debts he has to repay due to the wars," said Tavish. "I plan to offer to pay them off as a dowry in exchange for your friend Tanith."


    "What?!" said William.


    "What?" said Tavish. "She''s beautiful, strong, a valuable asset, and I got on well with her. You''ll probably have to aim higher to rise in power. If I can marry her, that nets me a connection to House Telus and gets me into the nobility."


    "Why to tell me?" said William, wondering if he should kill Tavish now. But, no, Tanith would want to do that herself.


    "So there won''t be any nasty surprises, obviously," said Tavish. "This is a common courtesy, so you know now."


    William considered the possible results of this course of action. "You have my permission to try. But I don''t think you have a chance. Lord Edmund is a very influential man and likely has high hopes for marriage."


    "Well, either way," said Tavish. "The money could be used to get me back some goodwill."


    "Where will you get the money?" asked William.


    "I already have it," said Tavish. "Here. Unlike Arkan, I hid most of my stuff in Haldren, somewhere nobody goes.


    "It''s just a ways off.


    "The problem is transport. I need someone to move it all out to Edmund Telus and ensure it isn''t stolen. I had planned to use Lamech and Arkan for manual labor and offer them a cut."


    "Why did you need me?" asked Oresa, blinking.


    "Pure impulse," said Arkan. "We thought we might be able to bargain with you for something, but we couldn''t, so the plan is cut for now.


    "Although you did lure William here and get Lamech killed. So that''s something."


    "Oh," said Oresa in disappointment. "Why are my kidnappings never about me? I really feel like a Princess like myself ought to be kidnapped for my beauty. It was as if a passing knight was dazzled by my presence, seized me up in his arms, and took me away.


    "And my hero followed, and they dueled in single combat, and the hero smote the evil knight down! Ah, wait, he''s got a crossbow-"


    Tavish whacked her upside the head.


    "Ow," said Oresa, rubbing her forehead with an eye closed in a vaguely cute manner. "That''s not very nice."


    At that moment, Isamu rushed into sight with his comrades. Their weapons were out, and they were ready for blood. "Alright, you son of a bitch!


    "Where is Oresa! I''ll slaughter you all! I''ll take all of you at once!"


    "Oh, Isamu, you''re here," said Oresa. "Um, it was a big misunderstanding, and everything worked out. But now we need to help avert a war by helping Tavish pay off someone else''s debts."


    "What war? What are you talking about?" asked Urus.


    Oresa explained.


    "How will that avert a war?" asked Isamu. It was not raining anymore, having slackened off.


    "Gavin is likely to try and convince House Telus to defect using debt forgiveness," said Urus. "If those debts are paid, the alliance stands. If they remain unpaid, House Gabriel is incentivized to begin a full-blown offensive."


    "I''ve got more than enough treasure to pay for it," said Tavish. "And nothing better to do with it."


    "We''ll help if you give us a cut," said Sokar. "We''re going to need money."


    "That''s alright," said Tavish. "Some of Telus'' debts are owed to you. Furbearer sewing patterns are quite popular, you know."


    "Fine, then let''s get to work," said Sokar. "But this clears any ill-will between us. And we share in the credit for handing in the money.


    "No more vendettas." William was inclined to ask why Sokar felt he had to clear ill will with Tavish. If anything, it seemed the other way around. Then again, Tavish was more robust.


    "Understood," said Tavish.


    "Isamu, Urus, Cadas," said Orsea. "Can you help them?"


    "Well, first, I''d like to see the paperwork for these debts," said Amenos. "Do you have it?"


    Tavish drew out a book. "Of course. I managed to copy most of earlier."


    William looked at it carefully after Amenos finished. They made sense based on what he knew. William halted. "You''ve thought this through."


    "Edmund and Father are old rivals," said Tavish. "Stopping the rivalry serves the King and Father and gives me an in."


    "Many of these men are dead. They were killed working with Cirithil," said William.


    "The money is still owed to their family," said Tavish. "Lord Edmund had to take a lot of loans to entertain guests of import. Vanion dodged those by always being off on campaign."


    "Amenos?" asked William.


    "I agree with your assessment," said Amenos. "As Rusara''s representative, I believe this is more than workable."


    Amenos would know. Which was good. Without a good advisor, William would have gone straight to violence. You only made this kind of deal by consulting someone who knew what they were doing.


    "I can represent Antion in this," said Arkan. "It should redeem my standing enough to halt Korlac. And also make the stalemate even more even-handed.


    "Brooking a real peace while inadvertently sabotaging Gavin will go over well."


    "Good. Let''s get to it," said William.


    Tavish led them out as the rain fell away to reveal bright skies. Retrieving some hidden shovels and others, they began to dig. Deeper and deeper they went until, eventually, they delved into it. Finding it open, there was a huge chest. Unlocking it with a key on the ground, Tavish opened it to reveal a chest of pure gold.


    Tavish smiled. The sheer volume of it amazed William, and a sense of euphoria overtook him. It glowed and sparkled in the sunlight, and he wondered how much it was.


    "That''s a lot of money," said Isamu.


    "Part of my fortune," said Tavish. "Most is invested in businesses in Antion. Perfectly legal."


    "How did you keep this secret?" asked William. "You couldn''t have carried it all here yourself. And Arkan and Lamech couldn''t be with you all the time."


    "I gave the men who came with me a sword each," said Tavish. "And we agreed to kill eachother until only one was left. Then, since I was a child, I waited on the sidelines while they hacked one another up. Then I stabbed the last one as he bled out.


    "I buried them in a grave we all dug together before the match."


    "That''s grim," said Isamu.


    "It worked, didn''t it," said Tavish. "No witnesses. Let''s just grab the handholds and take turns. One from each party at a time. We''ve got a long way to go.


    "William, I need you to handle negotiations."


    It took a lot less labor than expected to get the money out. William, on his own, would have had trouble. But Isamu had immense strength like nothing he''d ever seen, and together, they easily pulled it out. Steel poles were already lying near it, and these Tavish slid through iron rings on the chest.


    Four of them, at any one time, held it on their shoulders. Together, they marched toward the domain of the Furbearers. When some became tired, they switched bearers to make good time. The ground was rocky, but Kata and Sokar knew the best paths, so they avoided serious problems and went on.


    William had always heard the domain of the Furbearers was covered in ice. But it was fading out by now. The treasure was heavy, but the land seemed to speed them on their way. The ground seemed to fly by beneath their feet.


    "I was originally planning for Lamech and me to move this," said Tavish. "This works out better. He''s stronger, of course, but not someone you can trust fully."


    "It''ll get worse once we cross the river. We''ll take the main road," said Sokar. "We''re not doing this as thieves in the night."


    "I don''t know if anyone has thought of this," said Arkan. "But this is an ideal time to be taken, hostage. There are many notable names among us."


    "I will handle negotiations," said William. "And if anyone is foolish to try and seize this company, it will be the end of them. We''re well-armed and experienced soldiers."


    "He''s right, you know," said Oresa, who had not been expected to labor. "Isamu, Urus, and Cadas are powerful."


    Cadas proved a great asset to Isamu.


    They came at last to the river; William forgot the name. But he did remember the history as he led them forward. "Anoa stormed it early in his invasion, and there was a great battle. It was broken but remade with a drawbridge."


    The bridge crossed the river, but the drawbridge was up.


    "I know a good ford," said Sokar.


    "You would take this chest across the river?" asked William. "I''ve waded rivers before. It''ll be washed out to sea before the first step. And it''s high right now with all the snow.


    "We''ll go through."


    Moving to the edge, he approached the bridge guard with several armed men. Judging by the set hastily thrown to one side, they bore excellent armor and looked to have been playing dice. This did not strike William as befitting royal soldiers. "Hold where you are. This bridge is shut in case of Furbearer assault." His accent needed to be corrected.


    "The war is over," said Sokar. "And we are on a mission of peace."


    "Be that as it may," said the bridge guard, and his voice spoke as though William had given offense. The guard was clad in bright, gold-lined armor and violet garments. "Prince Aras has ordered that no one cross over this river." His posture was not that of a Harlenorian soldier. William had seen it in Ascorn before somewhere, however.


    Yet his face was white and pale, though the completion was a little too perfect.


    "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel," said William. "I am going to meet a friend of my Father, Lord Edmund Telus. My mission is urgent and of concern to all three Kingdoms."


    "I do not care if you are a God," said the guard. "King Gavin rules this country."


    "Is this done by the will of Edmund Telus?" asked William. "Perhaps you could send a message for me."


    "Edmund Telus will accept the mercy of Prince Aras," said the guard. "And you are of no concern." This was far too much of a caricature, as though he were pretending to be who he was.


    "With me are Princess Kata, Prince Sokar, a direct representative of Antion. There is also Princess Oresa of Calisha," said William. "Many respected names who have been of invaluable service. They seek to make a show of friendship with Edmund Telus.


    "Would your master insult all of them?"


    The guard laughed alongside his men. "Should a Prince concern himself with the whore children of brigands? That and a mere political servant and a barbarian bitch?" Far too aggressive, no royal guard would speak as such.


    "Will you allow me to represent my house in the negotiations?" asked William.


    "No," said the guard. "You''re little better than brigands already."


    "You realize that this side of the bridge is Furbearer territory," said William. "They are not yours to insult and harass."


    "Everyone is Prince Aras''s to insult and harass," said the guard.


    That was too much. These men were not royal guards.


    William turned away, about to suggest an alternative path. Then he considered the political implications and was turned back here. So instead, he drew his sword and smote him with the flat of his blade. They fell senseless to the ground around them.


    Isamu and Cadas rushed in and rapidly knocked out the other guards.


    William sighed. "Isamu, Urus, Cadas, can you swim?"


    "Yes," said Isamu. "I''ve been doing this a long time."


    "Get over that river and drop that gate," said William. "Don''t kill any if you can avoid it. And absolutely do not kill any wearing the colors of House Telus. Do what you want with these.


    "If you find Prince Aras, don''t lay hands on him. And don''t kill anyone."


    The group did, leaping into the river and swimming across. There was a sound of fighting and clashing and screams of agony. Promptly, the door dropped and slammed open, and they stepped over it. Isamu and his people were on the other side, and several men of Ran Telus were standing by.


    "Thank gods you''re here, milord," said a man. "Prince Aras''s men are all over the countryside. They''ve fanned out everywhere. They said he was coming as a guest but arrived with armed men.


    "Then orders were given that the area be sealed off."


    "I didn''t notice anything like that when Tanith and I came through?" said Kata.


    "Lady Telus came through?" asked the guard. "That can''t be.


    "Prince Aras has men watching for her."


    "She was likely wearing her armor," said William. "Did you speak to any guards?"


    "No," said Kata. "Just walked in this the ox carts like she owned the place. She exchanged a few words with the guards and walked off."


    "Enough," said Arkan. "What now?


    "Taking this treasure now is useless."


    "Let us leave it as bait," said Amenos. "Treasure attracts men far from home. Put it somewhere they can hear of it. Then, wait to see who arrives."


    "Sokar," said William. "Go back to your people and form them out here. Don''t cross the river. You men keep the gate open. Isamu, you and your companions will assist in the guarding. No aggressive moves, defend but nothing else.


    "Tavish, Arkan, keep the treasure here. You''re in charge if unity is needed."


    "Where did he get these men?" asked Arkan. "Gavin isn''t this ineffectual. And he''d never make this kind of move without first taking Gel Carn."


    "It hadn''t fallen when these arrived," said a man.


    "Babarassians," said Sokar, removing a helm.


    Silence. It was true; their face was tan like that of Sokar. How had they gotten in here?


    "Impossible," said a guard. "Their skin was as pale as ours a moment ago."


    But each helm revealed that some disguise had fallen away. And now they were looking at many dark-skinned men.


    "He must have hired some contingents of them and dressed them in royal colors," said Tavish. "The fool. You can''t control an organization just with money."


    "I wouldn''t know," said Arkan. "But I doubt the King had any part in this stunt. These men obviously do not understand royal decorum. No Harlenorian guard would ever mistreat so important a figure."


    "What about you, William?" asked Kata. "What about us?"


    "You, Oresa, and myself will go to the city directly," said William.


    "What?" said Kata. "How?"


    "Simple," said William. "We''ll say Arkan planned all this and that your brother and Oresa''s bodyguards betrayed you. Then, if they think we''re desperate, they''ll want to use us."


    "Gavin can''t possibly be this stupid," said Arkan. "Neither could his son."


    "We''ll find out soon enough," said William. "Remember;


    "No attacks. If they press you, draw out beyond the river and keep them here."


    "What if they invade us?" asked Sokar.


    "Well then, that''s not my decision, is it," said William. "But I do not think for a moment these men are working for King Gavin. It is likely someone else, perhaps someone beneath notice, who can hire them.


    "Creeping into his shadow, if you will."


    "I hope so," said Arkan. "If not, we''re about to have a civil war."


    William sincerely doubted that. He felt such a conflict would end quickly with Arkan hanging from a noose.

 Chapter 188 - Forty: The Last Gambit

    Ansara was trying to pray.


    The darkness of the temple was broken only by a single light. The tomb of her ancestor, Andoa I, stood before her. She wondered what he would have thought of her. Very little, probably, Andoa; I had been a noble warrior with no interest in peace. He had battled with Baras, the ancient Dren warrior, for six years. Theirs had been a long rivalry with many tales of other heroes around them.


    In so doing, he had long drawn off the Calishan''s hand. But with the coming of the Viokins, he was forced to withdraw. Baras died of a disease that even now raged throughout her Kingdom. Andoa himself died slaying a great minotaur chieftain in single combat. After that, Sorn had broken away for good, and no one had ever reclaimed it.


    He''d won the battle, but his traitorous enemies had swarmed him to death in his exhaustion. Enraged, his army had slain them all and allied with Calishans. Andoa II, her grandfather, had been great in peace and war. Raised as a ward by elves, he claimed the throne because all but one of his brothers was dead. From there, he''d made peace with all his neighbors and done much to repair relations.


    Information and wisdom had been exchanged between them. Antion was more beautiful than ever, reflecting the nation''s soul. The population had swelled, and empty lands had been filled in. Estal had become a Harlenorian colony and stood as a bulwark against invasion by sea. The minotaur''s bloodlust had been broken, and his visits made them civilized. The people were raised up and given prosperity like never before. Peace had reigned with the Sornian colonies, and they had been recognized.


    Andoa II had preferred to think of them as friends rather than subjects. Everyone liked him and met him. They''d felt at ease.


    Now, all but the minotaurs had betrayed them. The nobility had turned on one another; the people were enslaved to one brutal faction or another. The elves had used Andoa''s kindness as an opening to destroy his Kingdom as he lay on his deathbed. And yet, even here, a single letter through Marn had engineered their downfall.


    They had gained nothing by their treachery but blood and lost reputation. And Grandfather still lived. Jehair was in transfer as a prisoner and could be interrogated to gain the names of everyone she knew. Combined with Lamech''s testimony, Ansara could send every one of them to the gallows.


    Every elf, every human, every dwarf, and undead, from this world or any other.


    Ansara would hang them all for their betrayal. And Korlac would be here means to do so.


    A political arrangement with House Gabriel at this point was logical. Her personal desires did not matter. Marrying William Gabriel would strengthen the crown and give them legitimacy. Artarq could become a permenant royal province. The other nobles would be brought into line.


    Rius'' death would ensure they would be on their toes.


    The reports of the werewolves joining the force were good. John Korlac would give them instructions. Werewolves had tunnel vision and obsessed over their goal at any one time. If they were to be given the task of enforcing the law...


    What police they would make. They could smell emotions and people, sometimes even after rainfall. Full moons weren''t common, even if they changed during a full moon. So they could easily gather evidence and give it to legitimate police officers.


    The werewolves would not be allowed to make arrests outside of Blackfear.


    But drinking the blood of condemned prisoners? That would cut down on murders and put them to good use. It was apparent why Grandfather had chosen William as his agent. He was intelligent, charismatic, and a hero. But not the kind of hero who followed orders, broke orders, or kicked in doors. His primary concern was solving the problem of the plague.


    Yet this had allowed him to converse with every part of society and observe them. Ansara would speak to Lord Dunmoore about reorganizing the Paladins to do more of that. The epoch of shining mail and hitting one another with swords was waning. Another task must be found for the Paladins.


    Do oaths not involve themselves in local politics? Save to defend the King''s authority? That would ease the trouble of the nobility. It would prevent another Healer''s Guild fiasco. Yes, this could work.


    Ansara stood up.


    She was curious to know if she had communicated with her ancestors. And she needed to find out if her prayers had reached anyone. Even so, by praying, she had composed herself and could turn to the doors and walk toward them. There was a knock before she arrived, which meant Spinal was there.


    Could she trust him?


    It didn''t matter. He was her only source of physical power; without him, she would have been a prisoner. Indeed, he seemed serious about wiping out the corrupt forces here. But it was apparent he had other considerations. Ansara was less a benefactor and more an ally to some other purpose.


    Whatever it was, it did not matter.


    What did people do when they were not prisoners in their own homes?


    Drink with friends?


    Ansara never drank, let alone with servant girls. She pretended to be friends, but she wasn''t. "I''m sorry to interrupt your meditations, Princess Ansara," said Spinal, entering the room. He shut the door. He moved away from it. The temple was the one place that could not be magically observed. The Gods would never allow someone to corrupt it. "But we have Jehair.


    "Sir John Korlac shifted her to the dungeon on your behalf. However, he believes hanging or imprisoning her could cause problems."


    "Good," said Ansara, standing up. What did other people feel when they prayed? Did they say things? "Arkan has lost most of his money and has gone to Haldren, and his subordinates are scattered. Cirithil is insane, so he can''t take his place."


    "Actually, Cirithil will make a miraculous recovery," said Spinal.


    What?


    Ansara turned around incredulously.


    "Impossible," said Ansara. "I saw him myself when he came in. He was a raving lunatic, screeching like an animal. He''s not a good enough actor to fake that. Even if he was, he''d have dropped the guise long after Coalmarsh led him off by a leash.


    "You can''t shrug off madness."


    "You can with a supernatural backer," said Spinal. "Someone strong enough Elranor wouldn''t want to contest power with. Either that or someone willing to cut a deal with Elranor on his behalf. Or Elranor himself.


    "But no one I know would pull strings for him," said Ansara. "Cirithil was a useful idiot."


    "You''d be surprised what people can say and what effect that can have," said Spinal. "He might have been an idiot, but he''s an idiot that the Demoration has poured all its investments through. They absolutely need him, or they will lose all the contacts they have for their money.


    "He was the only person willing to do a deal with them, and if he dies, they lose everything."


    "So let them," said Ansara. "I don''t care about their losses."


    "As much as I''d love to," said Spinal. "My organization needs Cirithil. Or we risk throwing down the gauntlet with the Demoration. And so do you. Who is going to negotiate with the bishops about fighting the plague?


    "Some random temple maiden who exists to talk about art? Cirithil is the only person who can command the bishops. If he''s sane, we can force him to do his job at swordpoint. But, if he''s a dribbling idiot, there''s no one to organize the church.


    "And since Atravain has been enslaving priests and setting up her cults, you might not have a church in a bit. So Caskav has sent in demands to Prince Bor to mediate.


    "Whether you like it or not, you''re stuck with the church, and we need it. You can always have his throat slit after he outlives his usefulness. Besides, aren''t ''heroes'' obligated to show mercy."


    Father was being called to mediate by Lord Caskav? This was wonderful; it meant the crown was gaining back power. "This is my Father''s orders?"


    "Yeah," said Spinal. "But you didn''t hear that from me."


    Ansara would check with him herself. "What is your organization doing here?"


    "This is a sideshow for us," said Spinal. "Our goal is further east. And they want a favorable government in Antion when they finish it. The Demoration has specific regulations we have to break to operate. They look the other way while we move between worlds.


    "In exchange, we must help look after some of their interests. So we rub shoulders with the Sorcerer''s Guild and Magicora."


    Spinal was trying to distract. Where were they operated from, this organization?


    Ansara had to be taken seriously.


    "You''re operating in the Kalthak region?" asked Ansara. "King Abdul Sahshir?" It was the most rational assessment. All other areas in Calisha were stable; Dinis had an Emperor. And anywhere further east would have no fear of Antion.


    "His land has agents in it," said Spinal. "However, he wasn''t part of the plan.


    "He forced his way into it by accident and was such a good warrior they had to change things to account for him. He might be an asset or a serious enemy. Or he might be nothing.


    "It all depends on the coming war in the Islands of Power and if he''s involved. But he has enough connections to cause serious problems."


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    "Is he loyal to Baltoth?" asked Ansara.


    "Sahshir is a zealot," said Spinal. "Zealots believe their own lies. The only question is what they apply those lies to. Sooner or later, his vision of reality will conflict with reality.


    "At that point, he has to change reality or be destroyed by it."


    "...How good is he?" asked Ansara.


    "Very," said Spinal. "He successfully orchestrated the defection of half of Zigilus'' population. He fought off an army of monsters and the legions of Dinis without only a minor militia. Then, he wounded two gods in single combat. Finally, he stood before Zigildrazia and was unaffected.


    "And that is his first battle."


    "This has to be a myth," said Ansara.


    "It is both," said Spinal.


    "Who do you want to win the coming showdown between Dinis and Sorn?" asked Sorn.


    "Calisha," said Spinal. "We need the country intact for what we have planned." He paused. "Now, Jehair has not written her obituary. She isn''t cooperating. Torture is useless for gathering information, so I haven''t bothered." sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Father doesn''t even keep such implements," said Ansara. "But it doesn''t matter.


    "If Korlac believes we can''t hold her, that''s it."


    "You''re not serious," said Spinal.


    "John Korlac is the most merciless hanging judge in history," said Ansara. "Only Lord Arthur was ever able to bring out his merciful side. If he says someone cannot be prosecuted, you should believe him. Jehair is well-liked and popular with a lot of influential people. "Executing her would cause a significant disturbance.


    "At best, we can ask her to sell out her friends. And she knows that much; otherwise, Korlac would have taken care of her personally."


    Silence.


    "May I suggest a strategy?" asked Spinal.


    "Doesn''t seem like I have many to choose from," said Ansara. "Father has no doubt already made one."


    "The Urishia have an ancient tactic," said Spinal. "When you have the means to destroy a man when he is off guard, but you''re at war, you make peace. First, you deal him a moderate defeat and gain some ground. Then feigning weakness, you let him restore his old strength. The reason you do this is that his guard is up.


    "If you continue to push your advantage, he''ll fight to the bitter end, and you will take losses. Some of his men will escape and flee elsewhere to gather strength.


    "So, you let him think the danger is past and gone. Let them become accustomed to normality and rise in rank. Our enemies should believe this unfortunate fluke has allowed them to grow in power. Several corrupt officials are executed. Now, a new group of corrupt officials can have their day in the sun.


    "Korlac will be shut down again and contained.


    "The books should be kept, but action should be taken once they think all is forgotten, if they know at all. Then, let someone use the information to shake down a few enemies and become King of the Underworld. We must make them think everyone is just as corrupt as they are.


    "Let them think everyone is just as corrupt as they are. If everyone is in on it, no one will take action. And then make them believe House Korlac is your enemy. You are afraid of them and House Gabriel and hanging on to power through corruption.


    "Of course, you have means of communication, so the nobility will know this is untrue. Vanion''s crystal balls allow most major players to communicate in an emergency."


    "What about the common people?" asked Ansara.


    "The common people will want a return to stability," said Spinal. "So give it to them.


    "Let there be organized crime. Do the absolute bare minimum to keep them in check. Change only what you can without alienating the criminals. The ordinary people wanted organized crime and let these people do this to them.


    "So give them what they wanted. Give them the reward they have been seeking.


    "Let them live with the reality of their actions. As we shall dub this, the Road of Chaos incident will be all for nothing. Everyone who died will have died for nothing, and a new group of criminals will take the old one''s place. Then, we can return the same people to your council, Arkan, Lamech, Tavish, Marn, and the rest.


    "A complete reset, as though it never even happened.


    "The criminals will believe what they want to believe. They will think they are here to stay; they can do whatever they want. So they''ll drop the mask and show who they really are because they believe they have been accepted.


    "I can use my abilities. Spread a few mistruths about how the criminals show who they are, and they''ll follow suit.


    "A few years of that, and no one will tolerate it. You must remain completely silent and focused on foreign matters. Retrain some militia and make a few minor changes.


    "The nobility will look after their own matters.


    "And then, when the populace can no longer bear it..."


    "We unleash the dogs of law," said Ansara. "And hang them all."


    "Right," said Spinal. "Moving now will only gain you back a small amount of territory. The criminal groups will call in more money from Bretus and Escor. That and other Demoration worlds. There are infinite brutal thugs in the universe if you have a portal. And right now, the people backing those criminals are afraid.


    "At best, you''ll be a constant distraction. At worst, you could be assassinated.


    "So move your focus toward foreign conflict. You can put your total effort into that while finding out who is providing all their funding. Learn who your enemies are and devise a plan to deal with them.


    "And then, when they are confident nothing can go wrong, murder them all.


    "Down to the last thief. No survivors.


    "Sending a clear message here will avenge the humiliation. It will be good for you and your associates."


    "Does this have to do with the Heir of Kings," asked Ansara.


    "There are many Heirs of Kings," said Spinal with a shrug. "Prophecies can be interpreted in a lot of ways. They are like lies; they have only as much truth as you make them have. Nevertheless, it will come true in some form, provided it is still remembered.


    "However, if I were you, I would focus on how you can benefit from the prophecy and how to avoid being in the way. If you can''t, just speed it along as fast as possible and hope it goes away."


    "It doesn''t even matter at this point," said Ansara. "This is Father''s decision. He may have a completely different strategy. And I will not be consulting it with you."


    "That is wise," said Spinal. "...I don''t think you even need Jehair.


    "Yes, she could speed things along. But she''s devoted to the cause, and many people like her. It might be wise to get an oath from her not to attack Antion again and release her. Larxe alone should be able to verify most of what she could say.


    "And Larxe is your enemy in this particular lie."


    Ansara nodded. "I will bring it up when I next see my Father.


    "Can you get me a meeting with him?"


    "Yes," said Spinal. "But that''s going to take some effort."


    "I will meet Jehair, then," said Ansara.


    Ansara departed and walked again through the halls where the guards had shifted out. Father had taken the opportunity to kill off many of Arkan''s loyalists. Ansara didn''t know whether the men were loyal to her or him. But she wasn''t in a position to ask.


    So she made her down a flight of steps to the same dungeon. Again, a guard waited for her, a new arrival.


    "Princess Ansara?" asked the guard.


    "Open the door," said Ansara.


    "Yes, ma''am," said the guard.


    Ansara halted. "Has anyone come through here?"


    "I am forbidden to speak on that subject from the highest levels," said the guard.


    Not Spinal, then. So either Father, one of Spinal''s benefactors, or someone else. It hardly mattered at this point.


    Moving up to the cell, she found Jehair sitting cross-legged. Once, Ansara met Jehair when she was young with high hopes and big dreams. Jehair had promptly ripped all those dreams to shreds with a few polite statements. Now the beautiful elf looked younger than she had then; her hair had gone gold.


    "You return, child," said Jehair, opening her eyes.


    Ansara looked at her. "Has anyone come to meet you here before me?"


    "Your Father," said Jehair. "He told me my fate was to be in your hands.


    "That was all he said."


    "It''s true, milady," said the guard.


    Father must have made all the same calculations by himself. But unlike Father, Ansara could afford to discredit herself. She could look ridiculous and not destroy the monarchy.


    But Ansara wasn''t feeling ridiculous now.


    Why would Father give her this kind of call? Well, it didn''t matter. She hadn''t hung Lamech, and he deserved far worse.


    "I''m going to release you," said Ansara simply. "I will release you because you gave me useful information if it gets out. My entire family could be murdered." Then, one of the guards gasped, and some looked at the others. "I''d love to stop the criminals that have kept me a prisoner here with your help.


    "But this insanity could destroy Antion. And while Antion would win Father, Grandfather, and I would all be murdered. That would be long before the liberating army got here. And the Demoration or Bretus would use it as a pretense to invade."


    "I''m sorry that reality offends you, girl," said Jehair.


    "At least I did something," said Ansara. "Even if I was trapped in this place, I tried to change it.


    "You could have done anything. But all you did was pretend to be people''s friends while feeding them the flowers."


    "I simply helped them decide they wanted to," said Jehair.


    "Spare me," said Ansara. "At least Lamech is openly evil. I let him go because I knew he''d slaughter many people during his escape. But you let others think you are good.


    All so you can lead them to their end. I can''t help but notice that the most heroic people in this place revile you. Frederick has always hated you every time you met.


    "That''s why William had you arrested.


    "You thought you could pass off responsibility for your atrocities. You were going to use Neral Dinis as a scapegoat. But your best behavior couldn''t hide your nature, and William must have understood it. All he had to do was keep trying to be a hero, and he uncovered your part.


    "You were so deluded.


    "You thought you could pin it all on Neral Dinis and overthrow him using elven mercenaries. But, simultaneously, a plague would consume the heartlands and spread into Ascor. The nobility would lose all credibility, and Cirithil would gain greater prominence.


    "If it had worked, the Empire of Qor''Dana would be refunded to cheering crowds. Ready to be shackled anew.


    "And if anyone suspected what you had done...


    "They''d be in no position to refuse your help. And it isn''t as though any of it could be directly traced back to you. Instead, your part in it was like nature itself. A mere background element that nudged things in the right direction.


    "Well, it didn''t work. And pretty soon, everyone will know why."


    "You see much more than you pretend," said Jehair with a shrug. "I knew exactly what William was doing from the start. I chose to walk with him anyway."


    Ansara paused. Had she known? "If so, why walk with him?"


    "Well, I could not assassinate or abandon one of the few people who tried to understand me," said Jehair. "His feelings for Antion and mine were completely alike. The difference is that William is interested in making humanity strong. I am interested in making the land strong."


    "The land?" asked Ansara.


    "I am a druid," said Jehair. "There are too many people in this land, and the ground cries out under their feet. Most of them are terrible people. Since Antion wanted to spiral into oblivion, I helped it get what it wanted.


    "I''m not interested in the survival of nations, only the lands they ruin. It took ages for the land to recover from the God War and Anoa the Bright. King Andoa''s foreign policy has seen the number of humans increase.


    "You are starting to become a threat to the land.


    "Thus, the Flower Maiden bade me take action. I helped to give the right people what they wanted to create a crisis. One that would cut the population of Antion substantially. I should note that slavery is likely to be abolished because of this. And much progress has been made.


    "But the truth is, I was unimportant. Like William, I was a supporting character in many other stories. Most people I worked with would have done the same thing. I just gave them a chance to do it more cleanly.


    "Tavish Kern, in particular, I helped set up his outposts. His operation would only have succeeded with me. Ansara, if you''re looking for some dark villain, there is none. I designated Neral Dinis as such because I hated him for killing a friend of mine. I offered Queen Dawn the chance to move in because she wanted that.


    "But she might have figured out a way anyway. And Sen Kaba was looking to make a sale of weapons already. I just made it, so he made more money doing it. Small differences?


    "Perhaps.


    "Important? Maybe so.


    "But if you wish me to write down names for mass execution, I will not. That would be a violation of my client''s privileges."


    "Get away from me, animal!" said Ansara in disgust. "How many people have already died? People with memories, hopes, and dreams? If you''d tried to convince people to live in harmony with nature. Or do less damage; this wouldn''t have happened!


    "What if you had tried to be good?!"


    "Even if I was good," said Jehair. "Sentient races grow exponentially.


    "The fewer there are, the less they can grow. A garden needs weeding, and rot has to be cut out. I limited my targets to the worst humanity had to offer. This would never have happened if Antion had made a concerted effort to root them out. If you call upon others to do your work for you, you will get a solution you don''t like.


    "Kafka made an admirable effort, and Vanion did foil the worst of their plans. But frankly, I''m extremely unimpressed with the Golden City."


    "Open the cell," said Ansara. "Let her out.


    "Asking her for an oath would be useless. Who would ever give any credit to what she has to say?"


    "I''ve never lied to anyone," said Jehair with a shrug.


    "We can''t let her go," said the guard.


    "My Father doesn''t have the manpower to drive the criminal element out of Antion," said Ansara. "The criminals are panicked. But they''ll kill us all if she is still in prison when they recover.


    "Names are useless if we can''t enforce them." She paused as the door was opened. "Think yourself lucky to escape another flogging, Jehair; now get out of my city! And make sure you give her all her effects first!"


    "As you wish," said Jehair. "You have my sympathies for my troubles. Gods protect you." Then she departed without a word, escorted by armed guards.


    "They can''t be allowed to get away with this," said a guard as Ansara walked out. "The Royal Family prisoners."


    Ansara stopped. "Guard... what did my Father say when he was here? To her, I mean."


    The guards looked. "He just looked at Jehair.


    "She flinched back in fear, and then he left. We didn''t understand it then. It must have been some exchange. Prince Bor sees more than lesser men."


    And Ansara left in disgust, walking back to that office where she''d stored the names. It was a mournful silence she felt as she walked through the palace. Everyone felt it, even the guards.


    Back in that same office, which she came to almost without thinking, she found her Father. He was leaning back in his chair as though he had been resting. His cloak was about him as if returning from a journey. Yet his gaze was sad, and many books were laid about him.


    All the writings of Lamech.


    Bor looked up sadly, a volume in tired hands. "My child...


    "I hold a book that could destroy a thousand nations. There will come a time to use it. But not yet."


    Ansara cried and wrapped her arms around him. And Father held her, as he had not in years, and for a moment, everything was alright.


    The vengeance of the crown beckoned.


    But for a time, it was not so pressing.

 Chapter 189 - Forty-One: Carn Gable

    The journey north was met by snow and wind, as was common in these parts. It was like coming home for Tanith, who had lived here for years.


    Several times, Tanith and Atria halted to take shelter in farmsteads. Here Tanith kept a keen eye on Atria and slept with her blade nearby. While also polite to the farmers and paying them for their trouble. However, no dagger was ever put into her, and things became dull. Eventually, they moved onward until they came to Gel Carn.


    Tanith had come far and through many adventures to come back here. And now she loved the very sight of it. The skull-engraved walls are cast with dark magic. The stout towers rose high with black stone and mortar. The fridged surroundings and wind tore at them.


    This was the kind of place where a great warrior ought to reside.


    It was sad that it was no longer the capital of Duke Vanion''s Empire.


    "Carn Gable at last," said Atria. "This is the first time I have seen your home, Mistress."


    "Yes, it is," said Tanith. "I was expecting you to try and kill me."


    "Why would I do that? My full purpose in life is to serve you," said Atria.


    Tanith could respect that. "You don''t have any lingering loyalties to Calisha or your family?"


    "I am no longer of Baltoth," said Atria. "My powers were taken from me after I fled from you into the temple. Nevertheless, a Priestess of Baltoth must fight, and you struck fear into my heart that turned to love.


    "Baltoth has always commanded that slaves submit to their masters." Didn''t she have any pride


    Tanith did not like the false adoration she had convinced her to hold her in. "...Love someone else. I need you, not love.


    "Let''s go."


    Atria nodded and became a bit more professional.


    But when Tanith got to the gates, she felt a wave of foreboding, and she knew why. The gates were unbarred and wide open, and the guards were waiting. As if expecting to be relieved. "You, what''s going on up here? Why is the gate open?"


    "Lady Telus, King Gavin is en route with an army. We had been about to yield to him," said the guard.


    "None of that! Send word to the villages!" said Tanith. "Tell them to raise their arms to defend the castle. Pull supplies into the fortress and prepare for a siege!" She pointed to Atria. "You, send word to Ran Telus, tell them what has happened at once. Then, Anborn, take a spear and stand at the gate. We must prepare to defend Gel Carn with our lives."


    "But the King-" began Anborn.


    "If the King attacks us, then we must defend House Gabriel," said Tanith. "You swore an oath like everyone, and now you must fulfill it!


    "Prepare for war!" Then she halted and took Atria by the shoulder, surprised. "Don''t you want to go back to your family?"


    "Would they have me?" asked Atria.


    Tanith nodded and sent her off.


    Moving into Gel Carn, she felt alive again as she rallied the men and stocked supplies. The garrison had become a bit lax but otherwise had held strong. So that when the King arrived, they found them ready.


    A large force moved toward them, clad in mail, and at the head was the King and Gail Arengeth. The gates were shut by Anborn, who stood beside Tanith on the wall. Were they going to fight a defensive siege? Tanith had always wanted to fight on a wall before unending hordes.


    She''d hoped to do it in Gel Carn, but this would do. Tanith stood and called down. "Who here will treat me?


    "Not you, Arengeth. You''re not even a man, let alone a Harlenorian."


    "We have not come to treat with you, Tanith," said Arengeth. "We have come to lay claim to that which Duke Vanion has long left vacant. Therefore, open the gates and do not force there to be more blood than there has been already."


    Tanith looked down. "You really think you''ll get away with this, don''t you?


    "You actually think you''re going to be able to pin all this on us?


    "Oh, you''ll do very well out of it. The Furbearers will have their homes destroyed. Their lands were plundered, and their suffering was disregarded on your orders. So then you can just put the blame on House Gabriel and put Humer in charge of Carn Gable?


    "Well, it won''t work.


    "If you try to storm this castle, I''ll kill every one of your men, and then I''ll kill you. Everyone up here has been wronged by King Gavin; he''s all but made war on his own people. And once you''re dead, Tavish won''t have anything to play Father off.


    "A King who betrays his own country is replaceable."


    The harsh statement surprised them. Gail Arengeth seemed about to declare the country under siege.


    "Hold on a moment, Arengeth," said Gavin, coming forward. And he did not look old at all. He had curly black hair and was fair-skinned. "Explain what you mean by that, Commander? It has been reported that House Gabriel has engineered strife through Harlenor."


    "By who?" asked Tanith.


    "Many different sources, each one reliable in their own way," said King Gavin.


    "Well, they''re wrong," said Tanith. "We''ve spent the past few weeks scrambling all over those places, trying to rein in a plague. That and civil war and a criminal network House Kern created.


    "To say nothing of Arkan Lantan and others."


    "Messengers from Ran Telus inform us that Arkan Lantan recently seized the ford. They killed royal troops," said King Gavin. "Among them was House Gabriel."


    "I don''t believe it," said Tanith. "Unless there has been a switching of sides. Antion was in complete chaos when William arrived. Tavish Kern held a position of authority, and the guard had gone lax.


    "It may be that William has been forced to cooperate with them. Or Arkan Lantan was not the main enemy. As for the ford, I might ask why it was held against House Gabriel? William is an old friend and does not love violence as I do.


    "He would never have launched such an assault. Not unless he perceived either betrayal or that my own land was held against me."


    Silence.


    "Then why did you enslave the Furbearers?" asked Gavin.


    Tanith halted. "We didn''t. Or they didn''t; I''m not part of House Gabriel; I''m an ally who was in the right place and time."


    "Merrin," said Gavin. "If you would."


    Merrin came forward; he was a blonde-haired younger friend of the Kings. He wore a green cloak and drew out a scroll. "I have here reports that the son of Edmund Telus, Anborn, has set up a slaving operation. One that sprang up in the wake of House Kern''s conflict with the Furbearers. After they drove them to the sea, Babarassians set up colonies in their territory."


    "But Lord Kern said you authorized that," said Tanith.


    Silence.


    "...It would seem that there is a great deal we have not told one another," said Gavin. "Will you come down?"


    "I can''t," said Tanith. "I''m the only commanding officer in this place. If I go down, there won''t be anyone to hold it if I''m arrested."


    "I give you the promise of safe passage," said Gavin.


    "With respect, King Gavin, our trust in the rules of hospitality is exhausted," said Tanith. "A good man and King in your position could invite me out to arrest me because a decisive end had to be made.


    "Depending on what you believe, I could be a total monster who has lost the protection of the law."


    "No one is out of the protection of the law," said Gavin.


    "Yes, but you are the law," said Tanith. "You have the authority to arrest anyone; the only check on that power is if you can do it. So if I open these gates, I''m surrendering."


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    "Well, we can''t just sit out here on the doorstep yelling up and down," said Gavin with a sigh. "Perhaps I could go up."


    "Your majesty, the inverse applies here," said Gail Arengeth. "If they took you hostage, it would be disastrous. And Tanith Telus has a reputation for violence that cannot be wholly ignored. She strikes a better character than when last I saw her, but she lives for war."


    "So neither of us can trust one another because we can''t communicate," said Merrin. "And we can''t communicate because we can''t get close enough to talk. But we can''t get close enough to talk because we can''t trust one another.


    "This is brilliant."


    At that moment, a shadow landed quite silently. Tanith knew by the shadow and turned around to see the vast figure of Auga perched on a tower. Her wings stretched outward, and the men quilled. But Gavin drew his sword and steadied them, face composed. "Calm yourselves and spread out.


    "Ready bows and mark shelter, but loose no arrow without attack or command.


    "A dragon?"


    "The dragon who destroyed the Babarrassians," said Anborn.


    "Auga?" asked Tanith, feeling intimidated. Why was her hand shaking? "I uh...


    "I wasn''t aware you were-"


    "What''s the situation?" asked Auga, shifting into her normal form.


    "A complete impasse," said Tanith, yielding command. "King Gavin wishes to negotiate and clarify what has been going on. I came up here to head off an invasion."


    "Well then, we''ll just have to open the gates and let him in," said Auga.


    "You''re not serious," said Tanith.


    "I''m a dragon. They''ll be in an enclosed location if they are in here and start a fight," said Auga. "And this is my castle now anyway." She offered Tanith a scroll, and Tanith read it.


    "This is an authorization that Auga takes over command of Gel Carn," said Tanith. "I yield command at once."


    So the gates were opened, and Gavin came in with some guards. They looked well-experienced and were well-armed. They went inside, and Tanith sat down at a table she had not eaten at in a long time. She remembered better days with William and Felix and wished to relive them sometime. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Alright then, we can start things by explaining what happened," said Gavin.


    "Well, this a long and very complicated story," said Tanith. "So, it started when the Tournament of Kings was announced..."


    The story went on.


    And on.


    And on.


    And often, Gavin or Arengeth would reveal other aspects she hadn''t known. Among them are descriptions of reports from Lord Kern and Tavish of crisis. It meandered about from misery to misery, and the only real theme was that Harlenor was doomed.


    Tanith thought it made it all the better.


    There was no story greater than a battle against total destruction.


    "If what you say is true, then Lord Kern has been deceiving us for some time," said Gavin at last.


    "But he hasn''t been, Gavin," said Merrin, showing reports. "Look at this. All the information we wrote here is consistent with what they told us. For instance, Anborn is clearly listed as being in charge. This is correct; he was in charge unless everyone was lying.


    "The thing is, we last saw Anborn almost a decade ago. We knew he''d had bad luck with money, but plenty of competent people do. If Tavish thought he was an ineffectual fool. Putting him in a position of influence would be an excellent way to implicate House Gabriel."


    "Who is this Tavish Kern, though? I have never heard of him?" asked Gavin.


    "He is a bastard son of Lord Kern," said Merrin. "Very smart and very good with money. He''s been operating the organization intended to create your Sorcerer''s Guild. I knew he was an agent, but I was given to understand he was a mere contact."


    "A lot more than that," said Tanith. "He''s a genius. He managed to put together a working Kingdom with the approval of the nobility. His second in command is a Blackguard named Lamech, and he can keep him under control.


    "But I don''t think he has anything to gain by sabotaging all this. He advances himself purely through Lord Kern''s good graces. Unless he can arrange a political marriage."


    "Then why the attack on the ford?" asked Gavin.


    "It might be," said Tanith. "That Tavish is trying to get into my Father''s good graces. He must have a lot of money. If his holdings in Antion are failing, paying Father''s debts with his money could buy his pardon."


    "William is a compassionate but dangerous young man," said Arengeth. "He spent many weeks healing the sick and injured in Antion. And he has been courteous and careful in all his dealings.


    "I do not believe he would launch such an assault without a serious provocation.


    "The only other possibility I see..."


    "Yes," said Gavin.


    "William might have gone insane," said Arengeth. "He is a veteran of the Khasmir Campaign and was in the thick of the fighting. He clashed with Melchious and many demons and has many contacts with the spirit world.


    "It could be that the events in Antion drove him to madness. His being here at all is an anomaly. He might have a good reason for it; we do not know. But it is possible that the horrors of the crisis caused him to snap.


    "The accounts detail he wore no armor, and no servant was with him. If he returned with his armor stolen and his friend dead. All to find his way barred by an impudent guardsman..."


    "He might snap and strike him down in a rage," said Gavin. "I pray that is not the case. But something can only be done once we know more.


    "But what is this about a Sorcerer''s Guild?"


    "You mean..." Tanith halted. "You mean to say that you didn''t authorize the creation of a Sorcerer''s Guild in Haldren."


    "Well, it seems like a good idea now," said Merrin. "However, we''ve had much more serious concerns. We''ve had several engagements with the Babarassians on the shores. They like to raid, though it hasn''t been as bad as it once was.


    "Rumors are coming in of Duke Vanion amassing power, and Lord Kern has kept us informed. By nature, he processes what information he gives us. I remember I did send Kern a letter asking him to look into breaking our reliance on Magicora, but that was years ago. Back when it looked like Magicora might be sacked by House Stormstrike. However, nothing came of it.


    "Perhaps he has been following that order all this time."


    "Do you have any other sources?" asked Auga.


    "To our south is Lord Kern, and we must travel through Furbearer territory to get any further," said Gavin. "To our east is Gel Carn, House Gabriel''s territory. The west leads to Babarassia, and merchants rarely take that route. The northern lands are all ours, with House Acas ruling well. But the mountains make passage difficult.


    "And House Gabriel, we thought was our enemy."


    "We do, however, have other, independent assurance. I have established several sources in Antion and Artarq. And some of our soldiers went to Khasmir to fight and observe things. However, they did not wear my banner.


    "They informed us that William had been causing a stir, to say the least."


    "I think there was going to be a stir anyway, your majesty," said Arengeth. "William just started it before it could get really bad and ensured it was less destructive. The Paladin Order might have besieged Ascorn. All while the land was plagued and the Furbearers enslaved."


    "I am interested to note that no report of these returning Furbearers has come to me," said Gavin. "Why did you not speak to me?"


    "We had taken you for our nemesis," said Auga. "And it was hard enough to keep in contact with our neighbors who might have been at war with us.


    "No one thought of it."


    "I thought of it," said Tanith. "I tried to get to King Gavin and figure out what was happening, but Kern caught me at the border. So I went with him; he apologized and then explained everything.


    "I thought that the whole situation was over. The way Lord Kern told it, everything had been a misunderstanding that got out of hand. Everyone acted honorably, but our information was bad, and we were in combat.


    "I actually fell for it!


    "I was dead set on talking to you about all this and...


    "I didn''t even think he was lying! It never even entered my thoughts!"


    "Well, if it''s any consolation, Lord Kern is very good at making people see things his way," said Merrin. "I wonder if we should not have been paying more attention."


    "What would you advise, Merrin?" asked Gavin.


    "Well, there''s nothing for it," said Merrin. "If things are as they appear now, we''ve got to speak to Lord Kern and his son, Tavish. At the very least, they must account for their actions. They may have a good reason for why they have been lying about having royal authorization.


    "But if they do, they ought to explain it."


    "It would have been better if he''d just cleared it with us. Then we''d have avoided all this," said Gavin.


    "It can''t be Kern," said Anborn.


    "What do you mean?" asked Gavin.


    "I''ve visited Edward Kern and Lord Kern," said Anborn. "They are both good people. Kern didn''t want to invade the Furbearers at all. But the war went too well, and he completely won.


    "And both sides believe the other started it. They''d never betray King Gavin; this wasn''t some dark scheme."


    "Kern''s shadow could have been used to appoint Anborn," said Auga. "Well-placed suggestions could convince people to appoint Anborn and leave another."


    "Not all powers sit in Council chambers," noted Arengeth.


    "If so," said Gavin. "It would have to be a merchant. Someone with a lot of influence who often is of use to others. But who no one think of?


    "Jehair perhaps?" said Merrin. "She''s a bit too neutral for our good."


    "No," said Gavin. "Jehair usually works against the worst sorts of business. She works with slavers, but she does not intervene in politics.


    "It could be virtually anyone. Someone helpful and subtle."


    "Rius had a meeting with many merchants," said Tanith. "And refused to let me be at it."


    "Could Rius be it?" asked Merrin.


    "Too easy," said Gavin. "Besides, Rius has made himself a figurehead in his own city. I cannot imagine him engineering anything like this. Though he was likely an ideal means to get the appointment."


    "It doesn''t matter," said Anborn. "We''re all villains in this.


    "Not one person in all this is the hero, except maybe the Furbearers. Not one."


    And no one said anything.


    Because there really was nothing to say to it. Tanith could not argue and opened her mouth to object but shut it.


    "William is a hero," said Auga. "Not the hero, but he is a hero. And so are a lot of others."


    "Then we are at war with ourselves," said Gavin. "What need have we of demons now?"


    "Your majesty," said Arengeth. "This matter is not concluded. And I fear we may face a major disaster if we do not complete it soon. We must get to Ran Telus and speak to your son.


    "No doubt he will have made some progress."


    "Prince Aras was not even in the city when I arrived," said Tanith. "And there was talk of marriage alliances."


    "Marriage alliances?" asked Gavin. "Preposterous. My son has had his eye fixed on one another for years. He and the Paladin Farwa often walk together beneath the moonlight. They hunt dark creatures together. He often has walked the wilds of Antion seeking her.


    "And my other children are either uninterested in marriage or already married.


    "These must have been mere rumors."


    "My Mother spoke of it," said Tanith. "Someone put the idea into her head.


    "But he and my Father were out hunting. So I could not meet with him."


    "Aras never goes out hunting," said Gavin. "Not really.


    "He loves animals. When he goes out hunting, he needs some good reason to be elsewhere. And that is often.


    "If these men tried to turn William back, what purpose could it serve?


    "Lady Telus, what did you see when you arrived?"


    "Nothing," said Tanith. "I came in behind an ox-cart, went straight to my Mother, and spoke with her. Then I learned you were coming and went to take command here.


    "I thought we were about to have a war, and my Father was going to be forced to betray House Gabriel."


    "Who were the guards who went with Aras?" asked Anborn. "And how many?"


    "A small group company of elite men,"'' said Gavin. "Small for royalty."


    "How could William have forced his way across without any armor?" asked Tanith. "He''s not that good. He''d be no match for elite men in armor by himself."


    Silence.


    "Ran Telus has been taken hostage," realized Gavin.

 Chapter 190 - Forty-Two: The Prince Returns

    William returned to Ran Telus and had a sense of homecoming; seeing familiar sights with new eyes was nice. So they emerged from the trees into the welcome air of full daylight. William picked up her tracks and realized he''d picked up a thing or two from Jehair. Not that he''d ever need it.


    Henceforth, he meant to stick to the roads.


    One that he''d expected to feel at Carn Gable. It was a bitter realization that the home he grew up in meant almost nothing to him. It was a dark, hazy memory with some good spots, even though no one had hated him. Most of what he remembered was his lessons, often taking him to the surrounding area.


    But then, he''d always liked this prosperous and busy city better than Carn Gable. The flowing banners and good stonework were nice. So often, they had journeyed to it and neighboring areas. As they walked, however, William noticed many similarly dressed men standing to attention. They were nominally members of the King''s army, yet they looked entirely out of place.


    They were not looking or pillaging. Were they all Babarassians? Why make such a public showing at all? Indeed, they could not have been stupid enough to think they could take this place. And there was militia near each one.


    Why such a savage rejection as though desperate?


    It must have been the end of some old plot the bridge guard was trying to conceal. No doubt Arkan would figure it out soon enough.


    "Ran Telus at last," said Kata. Her tone spoke volumes of what she thought of it. William didn''t blame her.


    "This place is amazing," said Oresa, looking at the colorful banners. Her tone also spoke volumes.


    "Much more impressive than my home," laughed William. "Though less defensible. To tell you the truth, my home has always been less luxurious. I wish we were coming here in better circumstances."


    "Won''t you be recognized?" asked Kata.


    "No, I don''t think I will," said William. There were those magnificent gates they had entered through before. "The William Gabriel who came through here last time was a less impressive figure. I have several scars and a different manner. It should be enough to fool one I am not familiar with." And he brought to mind the horrors he had suffered and tried to look a lot less vicious. "Well, for a start, Oresa, you will walk ahead.


    "Be friendly and innocent, and I will walk behind. Kata, you and I shall walk behind her as mercenary protectors. Try to look sour, and don''t mention your heritage."


    "Why?" asked Kata.


    "I want to attract attention to her as the dim-witted innocent," said William. "Not I, the ruthless veteran, or what have you. If she is in command, they won''t take us seriously."


    "You look like about as much a ruthless war veteran as a puppy," said Kata with a laugh.


    "A scarred puppy," said Oresa.


    It was laughter that William did not share.


    "Be that as it may," said William. "I will not be taking chief place as we enter. I want someone to see you as a mark, Oresa, and me as someone who can be subverted to get to you.


    "Kata, you are now my unreliable native sidekick. So play your parts, and let''s start looking."


    "What are we looking for?" asked Kata.


    "I have no idea," said William.


    On they went, Oresa at the head, her loose clothing flowing around her as she leaned over to look at wells. And also to gaze at stone walls and ask about their construction to no one in particular. The odd thing was that people seemed to disregard how little she wore, as though it didn''t matter.


    Did she have divine ancestry?


    William moved forward, and Oresa went ahead to the guard. "Um, excuse me, sir, I''m Princess Oresa, and these nice people have been escorting me. I was wondering if the Lord Edmund Telus is here."


    "A Princess?" asked the guard. "From where?"


    "Um, a far-off land called Eastern Kalthak," said Oresa. "See, I''m separated from my companions and don''t know anyone here. My Father is a long way off and has a lot of daughters, so nobody will come looking for me or anything."


    "You really should put something on and find somewhere safe," said the guard. "Don''t go anywhere near the market squares. Find the, uh, the Ancient Horses Inn. It''s a good place, a decent innkeeper, and safe.


    "Don''t go anywhere near the places on the shore. That''s where mercenaries and less savory folk are. Some won''t be here in a while, so Lord Telus can''t do justice to them."


    "Thanks a lot," said Oresa.


    The streets at this port were clean, and the people were not ill or injured. The guards were well disciplined and kept watch without imposing themselves. The buildings were in good repair, and the fresh sea air was beautiful.


    Now he knew why his fond memories were here.


    This was the city of a good Lord, a place of life and beauty. His experiences and victories had not diminished it. On the contrary, only made him appreciate it all the more, now knowing the alternative. There was a city across the channel with all the same advantages. And it was hell.


    The difference was the man who ruled it.


    Tanith had a Father to be proud of. He hoped she knew that.


    Even so, William rapidly concluded that there was something special about Oresa. There was a purity or innocence to her that people picked up on. Some people looked up at her orange hair and scoffed. Others sighed, while still more just walked off, but a few looked a bit better for having seen her.


    She talked to people, asking them about what happened in these places. William knew the answers; however, there was the fletcher''s shop. There, some of the best arrows in Haldren were made. There was also an armorer, where Duke Vanion had gotten the armor for his elite troops.


    "Why not look for Edmund Telus?" asked Kata quietly.


    "We''d never find him," said William, keeping his gaze on Oresa. "And if Prince Aras is against us, we cannot defeat him. He''s much better than me; we''d never find him anyway. Besides, you don''t kill royalty; it''s not done." Focus on purity and innocence being somehow wrong."


    William halted and looked over to one side. On a stall before him, he saw a mirror. A woman was there.


    "Will you look into the mirror?" asked the woman.


    "What will I see except myself?" asked William.


    "This mirror is blessed by the magic of the Mirror of Laevian," said the woman. "You may see who you are. If you dare look."


    William raised it to his eyes. In it, he was a man, though younger than most. His eye bore a scar of a battle over it, but it had not destroyed the picture of nobility he could represent. His garb was travel-stained and mismatched, his hair ragged. His sword was black as night, but it did not hide who he was.


    William smiled and put the mirror down. He nodded to the woman. "Thank you."


    "What you saw was yourself," said the woman.


    William turned away.


    "What did you see?" asked Oresa.


    "A noble among commoners who are kind enough to humor him," said William.


    William wondered what the terrible person he''d imagined himself as was thinking. It seemed wrong to forget him entirely. Likely he suspected this was set up to make the betrayal crueler. But, whoever it was, it hardly mattered anymore.


    His soul was lost.


    To William Gabriel.


    They walked many places Oresa led them, and William was content for her to be happy. She and Kata seemed to get on well, but he trailed behind and wondered what Melchious was thinking now. Had it been Melchious or another like him? Perhaps there were many of them.


    Not all could be so ruined.


    Had Melchious laughed with him, or was he infuriated that anyone should feel true joy? He hadn''t had anything to do with this. Were William and Melchious thinking the same thing right now about one another?


    "How much for the girl?" asked a man.


    William turned to him and, at first, thought Lamech was behind him. Yet as he looked, William realized his eyes had no glow. His armor was gone for a moment if he''d ever worn it. Now, all he saw was a man trying to make his way.


    Kata came up behind William as he removed his gloves and splashed water on his face to wash it off. Then, he becomes a bit more presentable. It looked better now.


    Who was he?


    "We''re going to the Lady Telus at once," said William.


    "That would be a very unwise move, Sir Gabriel," said a voice.


    William looked up and saw a familiar, mustached man. What was his name? William had been so occupied he''d nearly forgotten it. Oh yes, Lilas. Hadn''t he mistreated his workers?


    "Oh, Lilas, you''re here," said William. "I''m pleased someone is. How can I help?"


    "Not here; we must speak somewhere else safe," said Lilas quickly. "You may find this place more hostile than you remember. The situation has changed."


    "Very well," said William. "Lead on.


    "Oresa, Kata, stay close and ready." He wondered if Lilas had heard his conversation and sincerely doubted it. If he had, Lilas would be running and not approaching him.


    Lilas led William to a grand-looking building with a large gate and many windows. Motioning to it, he smiled. "This is a brothel, one of several such establishments I''ve created. Lady Telus had a notable interest in some among them."


    "Are you insulting my friend? Or trying to discredit me?" asked William.


    "Merely noting that such a place is a common visiting location for soldiers," said Lilas.


    William knew this to be a lie. Tanith had never visited a brothel in her career; she''d always said she''d like to conquer her prey. And since Duke Vanion was at war with organized crime, the soldiers had been kept away from brothels, on penalty of a fine.


    "Show me your trade records, now," said William.


    Lilas seemed surprised by this and a bit worried. "As you wish.


    "Though I''d hoped to be taking at face value. This way."


    "Oresa, Kata, can you read Haldrenian," asked William. "It''s a runic script focusing on being short and to the point?" He let a threat stay in the last statement; he wanted to appear as a mere brute.


    "Yes," said Kata.


    "I can''t," said Oresa.


    William said nothing, and Lilas looked a bit worried. They went in by a side door, and William checked his corners. One man moved forward, having an axe, but William looked at him. Then, several men. "Get out, all of you. I''m here on business from House Telus."


    The guards hesitated and looked to Lilas, who went white.


    "Now," said William.


    "Yes, sir," they said. They nodded and walked out.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Lilas opened his mouth as if to call them back but halted. He was not respected by military men. No guard would be stupid enough to cross nobility. Let alone the well-known son of an ally of House Telus. Lilas suddenly realized he was on his own before three hazardous people. Hurriedly, he gave me a book to him.


    "Lilas, please sit down," said William. "Oresa, Kata, watch that door, but don''t be a menace. I don''t want there to be any blood."


    William took the records and began to scan through them. These were just in Ran Telus and the businesses in this place, but it was immense. He imported fine silk to cloth his employees. He had contacts with merchants all over Antion and Haldren. Food and spices were imported from the Islands of Power for prices far too reasonable to be uninformed.


    Many herbs were grown in Blackfear, and he made vast sums of money based on these numbers. Looking up at Lilas, William flipped through several more pages. "Where is the rest?"


    "Each of my trade posts has its own documentation," said Lilas. "The numbers and dates are all in my head. I reference them as they arrive."


    "I see," said William. He checked further. He noticed that a lot of Furbearer quilts were shipped before enslavement. So, repayment of his debts was still waiting. "Tell me about your profits in the King''s Road, Kata; take notes."


    Lilas halted. "I don''t remember them."


    "I see," said William. "Give me a rough estimate."


    "I make much money from the King''s Road," said Lilas. "There is extensive traffic."


    "And Blackfear?" asked William.


    "I have no holdings in Blackfear," said Lilas.


    "Then I have been misinformed," said William. "Since several reliable sources say you do."


    "I may have a few herb gardens that I profit from," said Lilas. "But it is nothing significant."


    William saw the notes on the King''s Road in the book itself. The costs for moving Sornian goods along it were far too low. You''d need guards and a lot of money for tolls. It seemed like something was being covered up.


    So William asked question after question, and Oresa sketched it out.


    "I''m sure it is," said William after a moment. "If all this is accurate, then you are a loyal and humble servant of the realm. However, you should know that many of these investments will be disrupted soon."


    "Is there some move I should know of?" asked Lilas, now feeling more confident. Oresa looked relieved now. She''d had pity on Lilas.


    "No," said William. "I am simply stating that Antion is in chaos. Everything is being reorganized in preparation for the Heir of Kings. I''d hate for you or anyone else to lose their livelihood."


    "Divine favor often needs a helping hand," said Lilas. Oresa frowned at this.


    "I would argue the helping hand needs divine favor," said William, putting the book down. Time to manipulate this man. "Explain why you feel I shouldn''t go and visit a longtime friend?"


    "Well, the Lady Mara is hardly an imposing figure. Edmund Telus is gone and has been for some time, as is Prince Aras," said Lilas, relieved at the subject change. "And when Tanith arrived, hearing House Gabriel was betrayed, she hurried to the castle immediately. Many remarked she was intent on violence, and the castle has been locked down."


    "Tanith Telus would never harm her Mother," said William, shocked and appalled at the idea.


    "Wars can change one, milord," said Lilas, giving what might have been a sad smile. It ended up looking smug instead. No doubt, he was pleased with knowing something William didn''t know. In reality, Lilas knew nothing.


    "Tell me about this Black Ice," said William. He understood nothing.


    "An employee of House Hawkthorne," said Lilas. "He arrived here with those gathering to fight the Babarassians. After a dragon destroyed them, a very convenient event, they were out of work. So House Hawkthorne has been gathering people here since.


    "One can only wonder what they intend now." Lilas had pegged William as a hero.


    So why was he now treating William like an idiot? Surely, the fact that William had wanted to read his documents meant he was intelligent. Especially since he had talked down those thugs and had Lilas'' men walk out.


    Was it possible that Lilas assumed only stupid people were good?


    It would explain a great deal. Some had told William that politics was a game, but House Gabriel never subscribed to view. Politics was about people and how to get them to do what they wanted. And also making sure what you wanted was good for you.


    Father wanted power; everything he did was to that end. William wanted to heal people and gain great renown. What did Lilas want? He obviously had no pride, and he had money.


    "What would you say they intend?" asked William.


    "What can only speculate at his point," said Lilas. "But, Lords seldom send armed men into other domains without reason."


    That was objectively untrue.


    Harlenor had a very, very large population of mercenaries for hire. They were in constant circulation. Argath Marn had gained fame, as had Father and Raynald and many others. Warriors went into it and took sides to make connections and become great. All so that they could be rewarded justly for their efforts.


    But then Lilas didn''t believe in rewarding people, did he? William remembered the men he''d mistreated in Ascorn. Obviously, he had contempt for those he had passed by in the race, so to speak. Perhaps because they reminded him of where he came from?


    "And Black Ice?" asked William.


    "A notable enforcer, known for his brutal behavior," said Lilas. "He has been waiting with uncharacteristic gentility. But it is brought to me that he murdered a woman and her child in Ascorn." There could have been such a thug, but such a man would never command the respect of warriors. Brutality was not admired; strength was.


    Children died in war. That didn''t mean people wanted babies on spikes.


    "What other accomplishments does he have?" asked William.


    "He apparently cut down a crowd of Babarassians in Ascorn," said Lilas. "A demon with a sword, they say. You might enjoy fighting him. It was said that he murdered his own Father and sister."


    Why did he keep treating William like an idiot? There would always be atrocities so long as there was war. Tanith had committed her fair share. Yet, William was friends with her because he was responsible for her. What did this man think? That because this Black Ice had done atrocities, William would go out sword drawn?


    Lilas seemed to need clarification. Good gods, this man was terrible at controlling himself. William guessed that he operated by being beneath notice. So once someone paid attention to him, he had no idea how to operate. Or he was just really bad at this.


    "How unfortunate," said William. "Tell me of the debts House Telus has incurred?"


    Now, Lilas looked less concerned and took on a scheming fashion. As though reflecting William''s own nature. "They are quite substantial, I gather.


    "Indeed, Baron Hawkthorne came here to negotiate them. There were plans for a political marriage, and Prince Aras came here. Shortly before your associates assassinated Lord Rius."


    "Has anyone tried to kill them yet?" asked William.


    "That isn''t the direct action men take in this place," said Lilas. Assuming William''s persona was correct. "I gather you''ve learned a different kind of politics. House Gabriel is well known for paying its debts." S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    William decided he was going to screw with this man. So he put on the very image of a concerned and compassionate Paladin. "Where are the sick and injured? I must tend to them at once."


    "Edmund Telus has not allowed the Healer''s Guild to bring in inefficiencies," said Lilas.


    "Then there are no sick or injured? No one in need?" asked William.


    "The stalwart priests of Elranor continue to operate," said Lilas. Who probably took his commentary for mockery? It was, but only if he was involved in the Healer''s Guild.


    "And what of the people here?" asked William. "What of the soldiers who are camped across the countryside? Have they abused their power? Are the people well fed?"


    "Things have been tense, and yes, they are," said Lilas, trying to figure out what he was getting at. "A center of trade is a good area of operation for merchants."


    Money was everything to this man.


    "Do you worship Coinfurth?" asked William.


    "The priests have taught me much about religion," said Lilas.


    William considered killing him then and there. It was an unworthy thought, but he had it. He wasn''t sure why he loathed this man so much. "Ascorn didn''t look nearly so prosperous.


    "How is this connected to Rius?"


    "Everyone had a connection to the late and lamented Lord Rius," said Lilas, tone holding a note of sarcasm. "He was very polite and a good host but lacked mercantile skill. Mostly, he was given his bribes and let men do as they wished.


    "It was a free market."


    "Not when I arrived there," said William before drawing out Larxe''s list. "Everyone on this list is probably dead. Werewolves verified this information."


    Lilas looked at it and looked concerned; he must have known some of these men. There was anger but no grief. "I see.


    "How did they die?"


    "Devoured by starving vampires, among other fates," said William. "I gather Elranor didn''t care for sanctioning infant sacrifice.


    "It appears there are limits even to what the church will do."


    "There''s no such thing as a limit, Sir Gabriel," said Lilas. "Only somewhere you haven''t reached yet."


    "Be careful where you reach," said William, voice going harsh. "You own a lot more than is standard for a merchant. What is your connection to House Telus?"


    "Lady Telus and myself were old friends," said Lilas. "Though she may not remember as such."


    "Why was Tanith Telus not included in Rius'' meetings?" asked William. "It did not seem her consent was relevant," said Lilas.


    "For?" asked William.


    Lilas halted. "Tavish Kern apparently likes her. He has been looking for an excuse to get her to open her legs for some time."


    "Meaning?" asked William, who knew Tavish wanted marriage. He was about ready to kill this man. His casual disrespect was disgraceful.


    "He is seeking a marriage arrangement to get into nobility," said Lilas, now off guard. "A common slur I picked up in some of the worse parts of Escor."


    "Go on," said William.


    "He arranged for Anborn, the firstborn son of Edmund Telus, to be given a position," said Lilas. "I gather Tanith was upset it was not given to her. So she brutalized her brother and forced him to fight on the front lines." It was as though Kata did not even exist. Oresa was now looking thoughtful.


    "Who hired the Babarassians?" asked William flatly. But, of course, no one had hired the Babarassians. They''d done it independently, but Lilas might not know that.


    "...Lord Kern," said Lilas, becoming nervous.


    "How do you know this?" asked William.


    "I was at the meeting," said Lilas. "Many things were discussed. It was scheduled beforehand."


    "And you didn''t feel obligated to talk to a member of House Telus when you were arranging this?" asked William. "Tanith was in a high position of authority."


    "I was there by the authority of King Gavin," said Lilas. "I am still a royal financier, after all. The streets were unsafe, and there was little-"


    "The streets weren''t unsafe," said Kata, standing up. "We''d secured them by then, I remember; I was there. All our operations pulled people out of the slave camps Tavish was freeing."


    Lilas halted and looked to Kata, then William. "Would you believe the words of a Furbearer slave over a fellow noble?"


    William motioned to Kata, and she sat down. "Explain what you mean by that?"


    "Well," said Lilas. "I am nobility. I am the official of certain unprofitable lands on the border with the Wood Elves. A wasteland of no real value or strength.


    "I departed it ages ago to seek service under King Gavin as a financier. That was nearly thirty years ago. That was where I met the Lady Telus and eventually began operations here. Similar to your own story.


    "Your books provided me with several opportunities."


    "I am quite sure they did," said William, feeling any respect for the man crumbles to dust. It would be one thing if he''d been a nobody who''d worked his way up from nothing. But now, it was plain that he had abandoned the realm he was supposed to rule. And it was hardly a wasteland. "You know that that region is growing in prosperity, yes?"


    "Well, the wonders of the economy," said Lilas.


    "No, the wonders of good rule," said William. "The neighboring houses have been taking up positions of authority there. House Korlac initiated a hanging of two druids there. Some Lord''s sons speak openly of taking power there.


    "Hardly anyone even remembers you were ever there. So it might be wise to return and set matters to rights."


    "I appreciate your concern," said Lilas, an edge in his tone. "But it''s a minor trade outpost in a much larger realm. Hardly worth the trouble of one with my resources."


    As expected.


    "Who got the Babarassian''s royal army uniforms?" asked William finally. "I know House Gabriel didn''t."


    It could not be Tavish Kern because he aimed for a political marriage. It could not be King Gavin because the Babarassians would take his Kingdom. Kern was an extension of the King, and Lilas could not accuse him. Acas in the north was too distant, and Haldren needed help to arrange it.


    "...I don''t remember," said Lilas.


    "Think of some names," said William, picking up the book. "Get them to King Gavin. Do you have a spare version of this book?"


    "Yes," said Lilas.


    "Good, because I''m keeping this one," said William, standing up. "Show me the brothels; now I want to see the girls."


    "Of course, sir," said Lilas, regaining confidence. So there were other documents, but this one only scratched the surface. And he led him into a side room.


    Lilas assembled a row of beautiful, scantily clad women. Their bodies were very nice, but they were smiling. Many had unnatural proportions, which ought to be impossible due to magic. There was a glow to them, but it wasn''t like Oresa. It was false, a violation.


    "They seem very happy given their employment," said William.


    "Too happy," said Kata.


    "Well, getting someone to love their work is easy," said Lilas. "Just find someone from the worst hell on earth, and this place becomes heaven."


    That kind of thinking would make the world hell. "A dangerous assumption," said William. "People can think. There''s a price to everything." And he turned to walk out. "Everything."


    Then, as he reached the door''s threshold, he turned back to Lilas, who was already looking at the whores. "Oh, and Lilas..."


    "Yes?" asked Lilas.


    What to say?


    "Your loyalty to Harlenor should be greater than your desire for profit," said William. "If you interfere with the security of Harlenor again, you''ll hang next to Cirithil when I meet him in Antion.


    "Understand."


    Lilas smiled. "I understand, of course."


    "Good," said William. "Don''t make me come down here again."


    William walked out with a sigh. It was dark now, with dusk fading into twilight. The stars were blazing above, and the air was crisp and clear. He was sure he could make good on this boast; Lilas ran with many people, and House Gabriel was powerful. Having them both hanging at his initial arrival might take some doing. But it could be done if Lilas crossed the nation again. It might be a moot point if King Gavin could have done better on these reports.


    Aras came forward as they entered the town square, garbed in black. He pulled back his hood, and William thought rough living suited him better. "Excellent work.


    "If you continue like, we''ll be in for either a golden age or a brutal civil war."


    "We might have both at this rate," said William. "Prince Aras.


    "I was given to believe you were absent."


    "One has to take plain guises now and then," said Aras. "This situation has left me with little faith in humanity."


    "At least there is humanity to redeem itself," said Kata sadly.


    "What exactly is going on here?" asked William, feeling much better that he hadn''t killed Lilas.


    "Those soldiers in royal colors came here months ago," said Aras. "They had the uniforms set up long ahead of things. Then, they disguised themselves as merchants and took on a new form.


    "And they''ve burned their dead in secret.


    "I had not known they were Babarassians, however. When I arrived, they came out and declared for me. Edmund and I immediately went into hiding for obvious reasons."


    "It must have been part of a larger plan," said Kata. "The Babarassians conquer the Furbearers, and the men here open the gates of House Telus to them.


    "Smart."


    "Yes, I imagine the arrival of a giant dragon to burn their new colonies to ashes changed the situation," said Aras. "They were caught in their own trap then. They had no means of escape and no means of security except keeping the facade up.


    "My Father was moving to set up defenses at Carn Gable and deal with it directly. I''m afraid he may be operating on a less favorable view of your Father''s actions. But since that area was unoccupied, I fear it may have been taken.


    "I''m sure we can work this out, however."


    "What now?" asked Oresa.


    "I need a meal and a hot bath," said William.


    And they did.


    The tavern they went to was nice, with music and many good drinks. William enjoyed it, and they spoke of many things. Aras, evidently, did not think there was any great crisis. And William took his word for it.


    "So Jehair, is she?" asked Areas.


    "In prison," said William. "Assuming the werewolves haven''t killed her."


    Aras looked concerned. "You''d best explain."


    William explained at length, and as he did, he felt much better. Aras smoked his pipe while making no comment.


    "Why did you choose to arrest her?" asked Aras. "You could have simply pretended it didn''t happen."


    "It was a choice between her glory and my glory," said William. "I considered letting the matter.


    "But I decided it would not be right for her to be the hero. So now there is no hero."


    "Well, at least things are finally settling down," said Kata.


    "You assume that something isn''t going wrong," said William.


    "Not this time, it won''t," said Aras. "And if it does, the Gods will receive a strongly worded letter."


    William laughed.


    He was looking forward to meeting King Gavin.

 Chapter 191 - Forty-Three: Returning Heroes

    William waited on a pier overlooking the sea as a ship came in.


    Black-armored soldiers made hails of greeting. Among them were Raynald and Vanion, standing together as they had when they left. Behind William, Ran Telus was abuzz with activities. People came from all over to see the celebrations as plans were laid for future alliances. Most of the bad blood had cleared by now. Those Drens who had survived the fighting with Tanith were welcome. A few were even marrying among the Furbearers. Battlefield romances, apparently.


    And Vanion Gabriel stepped off the pier, cloak flowing around him like some gallant lord out of legend. Adjusting it made him look very wise and noble to any observers. William appreciated the effort as he stood up and offered Vanion his sword.


    "Father, you''re here at last," said William.


    "Yes, I am, my son," said Father, taking the blade. "You''ve kept good care of it.


    "My sources often spoke of your efforts. You''ve gone far beyond what anyone would have expected of you. It shows that extra effort can shift the universe, not just on your part but on others.


    "And you would be the Princess Oresa whose beauty is so spoken of, and Kata, the Warrior Queen to be of the Furbearers."


    Kata blushed with pride. "You know of us?"


    "I mean means," said Vanion. "I would have given you more help. But Khasmir is in such ruin I have been meditating there. We very nearly had another war between the satyrs. Ascorn, I could help with Amenos." He nodded to Amenos. "However, I have had very little to work with save William and Tanith.


    "And Tanith is an unpredictable piece to play in this regrettable game."


    "We noticed," laughed Kata.


    "I must admit, this was not a planned expedition. But with everything on the line, I had to come up quickly," Vanion halted. "William, you must not think I knew things were nearly as bad as they were.


    "I fear my gaze is limited by what I focus on, as are all men. I should have sent more support if I had known how serious the plague and criminal element were."


    "Well, the matter is largely concluded now," said William. "Arkan and Tavish are off renegotiating things now."


    "What is your read on the matter?" asked Vanion.


    Raynald was uncharacteristically silent. William guessed that he was absent in an official capacity. Likely Vanion had to look as impressive as possible, and Raynald faded into the background. "Well, the world is ill-disposed toward Arkan now, and the same for Tavish.


    "Paying off a lot of debts has bought them a pardon from Gavin. A great many merchant Lords have lost a fortune in this. They brazenly invested in evil markets and have paid the price to the creatures that dwell in them."


    "Yes, I have heard of many arrests," said Vanion. "Apparently, the werewolves and House Korlac are getting on very well. Our alliance with Larxe was a masterstroke on Elranor''s part. I''m also pleased you arrested Jehair. She was too dangerous to be left unchecked."


    "It was her or us in that situation," said William. "What she did could not be pardoned by me. She committed a crime, and I had to arrest her."


    "Well, she has since walked out," said Vanion. "Even as we speak, Korlacs hunts are being called off. They have arrested quite a few low-level operators and a few moderate ringleaders. So things will be safer for a time, but we''ll have to battle the criminals again.


    "Ansara sent some documentation of her own as a gift. She''d like it to be included in your writings when permission is granted to release them."


    "I would not presume to release a detailed history," said William. Raynald looked irritated at this. "Raynald, what''s wrong?"


    "It isn''t right," said Raynald finally. "These bastards have had it all their own way for years. We''ve got them on the run. We should be pressing the attack and burning them out; damn the money losses.


    "Instead, we''re letting the people who tried to sell us up the river go and worse, having to smile in their faces."


    "I know the feeling," said Kata sadly.


    "I understand your objections, Raynald," said Vanion. "But an enemy backed into a corner fights twice as hard. Moreover, our enemy has support from many nations and likely from some elements of the nobility.


    "If they genuinely believed we were out for blood, they would not use any rules. They would do whatever it took to kill or subvert us, and it would be a gruesome battle. Calisha would be the only victor.


    "We took them off guard here and did great damage. Many of them will kill eachother off because of the loss of profits. However, our reckoning with them will have to wait for a position of strength."


    "Yes, sir," said William before Raynald had to.


    Raynald nodded.


    "Now," said Vanion. "Princess Oresa, who is here at the moment?" He was testing her.


    "At present, Arkan Lantan and Tavish Kern, King Osrif. And the leader of the Babarassians, Emile," said Oresa. "They surrendered shortly after their deception was arranged. Gavin has given them some very lavish gifts; I don''t understand why."


    "Perhaps he does not want them to go home empty-handed," said Vanion. "They have lost many friends and ships and even family. All for nothing.


    "Send them back without a shirt, and they will hate you forever. But, on the other hand, give them a generous gift and let them go, and they may feel ashamed to have struck so noble a figure. Or at least decide it is not worth the effort of attacking again.


    "Auga did her work well."


    "Why do you have a dragon in the family?" asked Kata.


    "She doesn''t take that form unless the mood strikes her," said Vanion. "And that is very rare. So it''s not something I control. Most of her time is spent reading."


    "Edmund and Prince Aras are here, as is King Gavin," said William. "Tanith should be coming; a messenger came."


    This was far from the first meeting that happened.


    Soon enough, another ship came in from Artarq, and a sunny-haired but serious-faced man was on it. He wore a blue cloak and leaped off before the ship was fully docked. As he did, Tanith and Anborn rushed forward to meet him.


    "Sunthred!" said Tanith.


    "Tanith, Anborn, I''m glad to see you at last," said Sunthred, clasping both by the arm. "I''m told you vanquished the hosts of Lord Kern almost singlehanded."


    "Not really," said Tanith.


    "But close to it," said Anborn, looking more like his old self. "We didn''t have any legions. A minor skirmish to get rid of the bad blood, but I was the finest spear on the field."


    "I was wielding swords," said Tanith.


    Laughter, like they were family again.


    "How are things in Artarq?" asked Anborn.


    "Very good," said Sunthred. "Since the Khasmir Campaign, Duke Vanion has started cooperating with Baltoth. They used to play one of us against the other, but now we can share information and wipe them out.


    "They''ll need an alternate source at this point. Likely from Kalthak."


    "Well, they''d have to secure the Islands of Power first and have a stable journey," noted Anborn. "I''ve done work as a bard out there."


    "Assuming there is anyone left at this point," said Tanith.


    "You don''t have to worry about that," said Tavish, coming out of the shadows. Things became tense.


    "Ah, Tavish is here," said Tanith. "Why don''t I have to worry?"


    "Prince Aras and I have been discussing turning all our operations," said Tavish. "We only started them to disrupt the rising crime rates. Now that Arkan should be able to control it and the law is being enforced, our job is to cut and run while we have the chance.


    "We warned everyone that it was every man for himself."


    "Is that a tradition?" asked Tanith.


    "Call it a grace period," said Tavish. "Arkan has done this several times. First, you set up ''organized'' crime in a place whose government is about to collapse. Then you use your status to keep things slow and humane.


    "Either people start enforcing the law again. Or the nobility gets so discredited, and everything collapses." Then he turned to see Vanion approaching and stepped back in fear. "Duke Vanion."


    "Yes, Duke Vanion is here," said Vanion. "I''m told you made a generous donation to the finances of my friend, Lord Edmund Telus, and asked no favor for it."


    "No sir," said Tavish, shuddering. "I felt that I was the one who had to clear the debt."


    "That is wise," said Vanion. "If your agents ever sell malas outside of legal bounds again, no god, king, or demon will save you from me. Are we clear?"


    "Yes, sir," said Tavish, meeting his gaze and showing only a hint of fear.


    "Good; send me a full report on your contacts in the Sorcerer''s Guild. We can consider the vendetta ended," said Vanion. Then he turned to Tanith. "You''ve performed excellently Tanith. I consider your earlier misstep in Gel Carn fully repaid. I have communicated with Wrynncurth by the crystal ball, and things should work out.


    "Provided there are no further incidents. He appreciates your assistance in Ascorn and other places. Give my regards to your Father; I may be detained."


    "Yes, sir, thank you," said Tanith before turning to move off.


    Tavish hurried past William, halting only momentarily with a lovestruck look on his face. "She''s too good for me."


    And off he went.


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    Tanith, Sunthred, and Anborn went off together, and William didn''t mind. This wasn''t about him, after all. However, Lilas was watching to one side, and his expression was enraged. William did not look at him and wondered what it was that he hated about the moment so.


    "Now, this merchant, Lilas, you mentioned him," said Vanion quietly.


    "Frankly, I think he made some sort of power play," said William. "I don''t think he technically did anything illegal, nothing I can discern. But he has had investments in many places. So I thought he might be using a Sornian tactic, buying things up.


    "Jehair had planned to deliver Blackfear to the elves.


    "I think he might have known of what was happening. He would have had to to buy up all this."


    "Let me see the book," said Vanion, looking through it. "Hmm, now I remember him. He challenged Arthur to a duel for the hand of Mara Hawkthorne and was thrashed. However, he never went to war and became a financier for King Gavin, moving money from one place to another.


    "Had some excellent ideas.


    "If it came to it, an embezzlement charge could be made. I''m sure you could find a basis for it, and he did use Gavin''s money for this. He made it back, but a charge of embezzling the King''s money is whatever he wants it to be.


    "Just give the book to King Gavin and bring him your concerns.


    "I''m going to look around. I haven''t been back here in some time."


    At that moment, Aras arrived, now clad in more formal attire. Though less expensive than what Liras were wearing. It was a green cloak and brown beneath it, though Father looked the finer. "Ah, the thrower of pigs returns."


    "Please, Prince Aras, the recklessness of youth is ill-remembered," said Vanion. He had a wry smile on his face.


    What was he talking about? Raynald seemed to get a laugh out of it, though, and Vanion looked in irritation.


    "Indeed," said Aras. "You always did wear this sort of thing better. I''m pleased that it didn''t go further than it did. We have been facing an imaginary figure in the other place."


    "Not imaginary," said Vanion. "Vanion the schemer is part of who I am. He is how I became great. So to deny his part in my identity would be foolish. But you have never been my enemy, Prince Aras. And I pray you never will be."


    "Well, I''m sure we''ll have plenty to do in other areas," said Aras. "Themious is not that far away." And he looked out to sea, though William wondered if he was looking at him. And as he did, William realized he was standing alone.


    Felix was absent. Tanith was gone to her family. Massacre was gone, and he wasn''t part of the group before him. A mere observer of events and gazing out to sea, he saw no ship coming in. Only churning oceans of darkness where foul things dwelled beneath the waves. There was now nothing but an empty pier. The ship had left as soon as Sunthred had gotten off it.


    Kata and Oresa were gone, off to some other matter. And no one took any note of him. So William began to wonder if he was so different from the man he had pretended to be. Turning, he saw Lilas continuing to watch, and a smirk came across his face as if some plan had come to him.


    Ships.


    An empty pier.


    Lilas had a lot of control of ports. He could delay the departure of fleets or reassign them if he chooses to. All he''d have to do is wait for House Gabriel to be put in such a position. William supposed he could bring the records, but he doubted Gavin would execute him over that. Lilas apparently had the favor of Tanith''s mother.


    If he was indeed dead set on vengeance for whatever, there was little to do but weather the attack. Turning to Raynald, he remembered the tales of his sixteen duels. Taken on men he hated and despised, a world that had rejected and looked down on him. Raynald looked to Lilas, and their gaze met.


    Lilas smirked and walked away. Raynald''s eyes narrowed, then turned to William. He nodded and walked off with Vanion and Aras, who spoke to him as an equal.


    ''Well,'' thought William. ''Now I understand Raynald a bit better now.''


    William walked away, thinking to himself. People seemed enthusiastic, and a feast day had been declared. Moving on, William moved to the palace. Sir Merrin was there, speaking with several merchants in private. They looked of concern. As William approached, he turned.


    "Squire Gabriel," said the man. "You''re here."


    "Yes, I am, Sir Merrin," said William. "I''m here on an errand from my Father. But, first, tell me, where is the Lady Telus?"


    "With Tanith Telus and her children, of course," said Merrin.


    "Might I meet with the King?" asked William.


    The merchants looked concerned at this. William guessed they were worried about his meeting with Lilas and the book at his side.


    "Well, if you''re seeking him, he''s not here," said Merrin. "He never does his work in castles if he can avoid it; he hates them.


    "He''s never been one for finery. So I''ll take you to him.


    "Gentlemen, you need not be concerned about anything like what is happening in Antion. The roads have become very unsafe, and it is against the custom of King Gavin to punish without good reason. This applies to merchant, noble, and commoner."


    "Of course," said the men. "Thank you, Sir Merrin."


    Merrin looked to William. "I''m told you had an altercation with Lilas earlier."


    "He invited me into a brothel, and I told him I wanted to see his records," said Wiliam.


    "Well, it''s a good thing you didn''t hurt him, or we could have some problems," said Merrin. "I''ve never liked the man, but why?"


    "I saw him mistreating his workers in Ascorn," said William. "And this." He offered the book.


    Merrin took it and looked through the book carefully. "Ah.


    "I''ve never liked him. Now I know why I didn''t. Whatever Aras'' theories, you don''t get this low price on valuable goods. Not without an extensive list of contacts. One much larger than was reported." He paused. "What about this list of dead men?"


    "I found High Priest Cirithil using a legal loophole. To sell Harlenorians into slavery," said William. "He was acting the part of an apologist for putting infants on pikes. And the merchants there were playing along.


    "The satyrs went berserk and killed them all. I believe it was some sort of dark magic.


    "Cirithil is now an insane, raving lunatic, completely incapable of performing his duties. So you probably won''t notice any difference."


    Merrin laughed. "A black humor, but Cirithil is better when he is doing nothing. Follow me."


    Into the manor they went, and Merrin led William to a room where King Gavin sat at a desk writing. Outside, the sunlight was peering through the windows, and the King looked up at it longingly.


    "King Gavin?" said William, beckoned forward.


    "Please, just Gavin at present," said Gavin. "I''m trying to work out the costs of all this. The warriors had a good time, but there will be expenses. Sir Gabriel, how may I help you?"


    "King Gavin, I am concerned that a crime might have been committed," said William. "Are you familiar with a merchant named Lilas?"


    "Yes," said Gavin. "He has managed to ensure our treasury always stays full. I will admit I did not care for his company, but that is pure preference.


    "What is this about a crime?"


    Merrin offered the book, and William took it.


    "Well, the numbers here don''t seem to add up," said William. "I''ve looked over it several times. And I''ve had your son and my Father look over it as well. So there are good explanations for how these investments could make this much money.


    "The King''s Road is in disrepair, but noble privileges could make it profitable. And since nobody uses it, it could give a major advantage.


    "But I don''t believe it.


    "The road is in shambles, and Blackfear is a nightmare. All of the business these days is done around it. No one could run a farm there, especially since Neral Dinis had been powerless for some time. Arkan Lantan has forced most of the vampires into hibernation.


    "I think this money might come from something else."


    "He has a point," said Merrin, then he pointed to one page of the book and sat down. "Look here.


    "According to this, he makes more money each year. That should have been getting lower with the breakdown and law and order. Unless he is invested with factions that were gaining power."


    "You miss the more important details," said Gavin. "He is invested in the slaver operations. I have never liked slavery and have often objected to it. Lilas knows this."


    "To be fair, Gavin, he''s always paid on time, and many merchants pay tithes to us," said Merrin.


    "Yes, but if these profits are correct, I don''t think we''ve been getting nearly enough of this," said Gavin. "Have you shown anyone else this?"


    "Oresa and Kata were with me when the discussion was had, Prince Arasa and my Father," said William.


    "Well then, I''ll deal with this privately," said Gavin. "He will account for his actions, and we will determine how much he owes the crown.


    "Perhaps we could give him an invitation to the feast. Lilas would have desired prominence for some time, even if he did not like the normal means of getting it.


    "Is something wrong?"


    William halted. "Lilas has an extensive shipping empire.


    "I''m concerned he might use that to move against my house. If we were engaged and needed reinforcements by ship, a delay could be our end."


    "Lilas is not a brave man," said Gavin. "I do not think he would be so reckless or foolish."


    Well, that was more than enough to end the subject. Best not to press it.


    "There is something else," said William. "I looked at his brothels.


    "The women in them are... wrong."


    "What do you mean?" asked Gavin sharply.


    "They are all unnaturally beautiful," said William. "And they are happy. Insanely happy, in fact."


    Silence as Gavin turned to him in full.


    "How many did you see?" asked Gavin.


    "A few dozen, I think," said William. "I didn''t count."


    "A few dozen," said Merrin. "Impossible.


    "Kern rescued less than that in his entire career. And he had to stop because it was affecting his sanity. Lilas couldn''t have brought that many back from Caliph."


    "But he might have done so by proxy," said Gavin thoughtfully. "It bears thinking of.


    "William, you''ve done well. I will handle this matter and follow it up. However, our policy in matters of corruption is to lie still.


    "Will you be at the feast?"


    "Not unless you wish it," said William. "I left Felix, my servant, and friend stuck in the middle of nowhere with my armor. A community is nearby, but I''ve kept him waiting too long.


    "I''ve got to get to Gel Carn.


    "Otherwise, this entire adventure was an elaborate waste of time."


    "Best to get to it then," said Gavin, smiling. "Good luck.


    "Our Houses have been quarreling over nothing for years. I''ve missed a good friend in Duke Vanion."


    William nodded and headed out the door. As he did, he ran into Duke Vanion. Father halted.


    "William, where are you going?"


    "To Gel Carn," said William. "I have to get started right away."


    "Now?" asked Vanion. "I was hoping to discuss things and introduce you to people."


    "I''ve already been introduced," said William. "And t I left Felix by the Black Mountain guarding my armor with werewolves. I''ve got to get back to him right away. It''s been a terrible imposition on him."


    "It''d be as well to just call him back," said Vanion. "You''ve only got three days until the tournament, and you don''t have a ship. You''ll never make it."


    "Father..." said William, smiling. "I''m making a leap of faith."


    And he raced off, feeling as if some powerful music was sung about him as he did.


    "I''ll give your regards at the victory feast!" called Father after him, fading into the distance.


    Then William sped toward the plateau''s edge and scaled-down it as he and Tanith had done before as children. Grasping at handholds he''d known for years, he dropped ten minutes'' climb in one. He reached the bottom with haste that inspired even him. He attracted the attention of onlookers. An errant breeze shot through his hair; he sprinted as the crowds seemed to part for him as he neared the dock. The sea air smelled heavenly as several rough, ready men ducked for coming. William passed them by, looking for his chance.


    There he found a ship with Arkan and Tavish crewing it alone. There was also Oresa and her men. It was just leaving the harbor, but William leaped onto it as it began to leave. And as he did, a favorable wind blew into the winds, sending it bolting away.


    "Planning to miss the feast as well?" asked Arkan.


    "Well, obviously," said William.


    "William!" called a voice.


    William looked up to see Tanith. She rushed forward, clad in a formal dress and looking very beautiful. Her blonde hair flowed behind her like the swaying trees, and she snatched his hand. Leaning forward, they held the grip as the hands were held. It was warm in his palm and a moment he wished could last forever, though wind and tide drew them apart.


    "Tanith?" asked William.


    "You didn''t think I''d let you walk out without a goodbye?" asked Tanith, face to face. "Listen, William, I can''t go with you. But I want you to know I''ll always be loyal to you.


    "No matter where you go or what you do, I''ll always be your knight."


    And for a moment, their hands were together, held as an island between the departing ship and the pier of home. Then it was broken, and the ship lurched forward with such speed. Tanith seemed to almost become a memory. She waved and shouted something as mists arose, but no sound came forward.


    Into the mists, the ship moved with haste and might as if by its own power. Arkan was not the master of it, and it seemed only a moment before the channel had passed away. Soon they entered the cover they had first set forth, and William leaped onto it. Waiting was Massacre, and he leaped atop her, and they shot away, leaving behind their comrades.


    They traveled, surging through the shadows as the sun set and the shadow of the Black Mountain grew long. Finally, it was all-consuming. Up the slopes, they moved without relent, passing by a fortress of outlaws. They were now negotiating with royal officials. And all around him, William saw a far and beautiful green country.


    The criminals were routed, and the complacent had been roused. Yet, even now, heroes and villains alike strove to grow beyond what they were. And as they descended with marvelous speed, midday came on. And William marveled at their haste and thought how he should have arrived had he gone to Gel Carn.


    Less than a week, even without divine favor.


    How long would he have waited for the tournament, as other men fought and died without his aid? Such a life was not worth living. Thus it was that he came to Isriath''s city, now renewed. Roofs had been set, Felix was consulting with several people, and some were taught music there. The sun shone down on them, and new children would come to this place.


    Blackfear, still terrible, was now not nearly so hopeless.


    Felix ran to him and offered him his armor, and William took it up and, dismounting from Massacre, dressed in it anew. Now clad as death, they went atop Massacre. And she surged onward, running all the faster. William marveled that her sheer muscle power could bear them both.


    So it was that they shot through the realm of Lord Tarsus. He found many villages recently put to order by others like Sir Frederick and Fayn. And he learned that the mines had been overgrown with man-eating plants. Yet they had withdrawn and departed with the arrest of Jehair.


    On they went through a country being put back to order. Rocks and stones and dusty slopes were no barriers to Massacre. She now took the King''s Road, the way of holiness, and surged down it. Such was the haste that it was soon put behind them, and they entered Gel Carn. He saw black dragons flying this way and that with parcels and also many new homesteads being set up. Even now, it seems the plans long put through were made. And many villages had been bolstered by new fighting men.


    But the second day passed into night, and still, they rode on. Soon they came to the river and found the ford.


    "Who are you?" called a ferryman. "If you''ve come for the Tournament of Kings, you''re too late! You''ve got less than a day! It''s three days out to there!"


    "Then we''ve more than enough time," said William. "Barden, grant us speed!"


    Massacre ran back, and William wondered at what she intended. The river before them was as wide, no, less great than Savior''s Run. Yet formidable nonetheless.


    Massacre began to sprint, running faster and faster along the ferry pier. Then as she reached the end, she leaped.


    For an instant, they were shooting over the air like a bird. And finally, they landed on the other side. Through the forests, they went, and none could bar their path. Until they emerged into sight of Gel Carn.


    William saw then the sacred place of Harlenor. The city that Anoa had founded in ancient days. Not to resurrect Sendar of old but to bring a new age. Here was where he had fought and labored to save humanity. Here was where the Kings of Old were crowned and where no man had dared invade.


    It stood as a white fortress, smaller than others. But marvelous in construction, it caught the rising sun''s light. So that as they raced toward it, their eyes were blinded by rays.


    So began the last desperate race, shooting fast over the fields toward the city''s gates. Faster and faster Massacre ran, clearing the streets like a hurricane. Yet she was touching nothing save the cobblestones. Finally, at last, they came before the tent where admissions were. Dismounting, William moved up to the man.


    "Is this the sign-in area for the Tournament of Kings?" asked William.


    "It is," said the man.


    "So be it," said William. "I intend to enter."


    "That is William Gabriel," said one William did not know in the tent.


    "He certainly makes an entrance," said a girl.


    William Gabriel entered with a chimera and a Calishan following in his footsteps. And there, William saw Varsus speaking with Reginald. Varsus was tall, blonde, and dignified, like Father but less cold. Reginald was like Raynald, but whole of body and unscarred. A sense of joy came to him, and William moved up, not looking at the others yet.


    "Varsus? It''s been years since we last saw each other," said William.


    Varsus, tall, blonde, and dignified like Father but less cold, smiled. "You have grown. What injury caused your voice to change so."


    "Oh, this," said William, remembering his helm. "Hold on." He drew off his helmet and put it under one arm. Then he spoke. "The helmet is enchanted to make me more intimidating." His voice was now normal, a proud baritone, but without the unholy rasp.


    "The glowing green eyes certainly manage that," said Varsus, smiling a bit. "I wonder if you did not overdo it."


    "It was a gift from Rusara," said William. "I didn''t want to offend her."


    Varsus looked at him. "That scar... how did you get it?"


    What scar? Oh, right, the one he''d gotten.


    "I was slashed across the eye by a demoness," said William. "It is a bit of a long story. I''m glad to see you again."


    They embraced warmly, then broke apart. "As am I," said Varsus. "You were six, I believe when last I met you. You''ve picked up strange company." His eyes looked warily to the Calishan, and Relma''s sense of dread returned.


    "Oh, Felix is quite loyal and reliable," said William. "You don''t need to fear him. We''ve been stopping to heal every village we come across throughout our journey. If he were going to betray me, he''d have done it long ago." He had been looking for an excuse to mention healing people, hadn''t he?


    Varsus shifted. "...You''ll forgive me, cousin. But I was not expecting you here. Duke Vanion gave me leave to represent House Gabriel."


    "And ordinarily, I''d leave it to you," said William. "Unfortunately, I have to fill in for Raynald. He wanted to come here, but he''s needed as a general in Khasmir. There are still raishans about and other duties to fulfill. So he wanted at least one of his students to appear.


    "I wanted Tanith to go, but it turns out she disagreed with the local lords. So that left only me. Mother also wanted to go, but my new siblings need her."


    Now to get to the mission Father had given him.


    "At any rate, there was another reason for me coming down this way," said William. "Father wanted me to deliver some news to Brisgald personally. Auga is to be granted the position of Lord of Carn Gable."


    "Auga?" asked Varsus, raising an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that Uncle was keeping Carn Gable for himself."


    "He was ruling it through Mother," said William. "But now that the entire family is focused on Artarq, he''s decided to make the move official. We need someone over in Carn Gable; we can trust to rule it.


    "Auga is smart and capable. We would have chosen you, but you''re the heir to Brisgald."


    "No offense is taken," said Varsus. "I prefer warmer climates anyway. And my younger sister is well suited for the task." That got a laugh from both of them. "How did Vorn take it?"


    "Badly," said William. "He shouted and yelled about being passed over."


    "That sounds like him," said Varsus. "Still, Uncle has always assigned positions on merit. And Vorn has little of that."


    "You do him a disservice, Varsus," said William. "He''s quite intelligent, and there are some things you''ll love to hear about."


    Varsus nodded and paused for a moment. "I hope you don''t expect an easy victory in the tournament, William."


    "Far from it," said William. "Truth be told, I don''t even expect to win. I''m a good swordsman, but it''s never been my best skill." S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It was a happy ending.


    But the problem with happy endings is that you must live long enough for them to unravel.

 Chapter 192 - Book 7: Tournament of Kings

    Well, that''s a wrap.


    Road of Chaos was exhausting to write and even more exhausting to edit. Ironically, the story was initially envisioned as a short, breather episode. The original plan was for William to travel to the Tournament of Kings. He''d have some side adventures and fight some bandits. The character of Jehair was introduced as a guide with no special plan for her. I began to write the Kata and Sokar arc in Ascon.


    Instead, what I got was a continent-spanning conspiracy by organized crime. That combined with a corrupt church. See, the problem was that the villains had to stay relevant somehow. And William''s journey was taking him across half a continent, from Artarq to Gel Carn. Over such a distance, the criminal groups mentioned in Dark Dreamer had to be very powerful. Arkan Lantan, Tavish, and Lamech were then introduced as antagonists.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    However, as I wrote, I realized that Jehair knew everyone and was well-liked by everyone. And since she is not stupid, I realized she had to have a hand in everything. This led to the elven conspiracy in Blackfear and also the introduction of Saphra.


    All in all, this is one of the longest books I have ever written. It has also been fairly popular, thankfully. Tomorrow, we''ll begin the next book in Relma''s story. The Tournament of Kings. We''ll finally see the tournament William spent all this time trying to get to. It should be much lighter-hearted.

 Chapter 193 - Prologue: Refreshing News

    Varsus had just finished the last shipment reports when the door opened.


    Into the tapestried room stormed Reginald, who tossed his cloak onto a nearby chair. Anyone else would have been reprimanded for that; Auga would never have tolerated it. But Varsus was not Auga and had long since given up curtailing Reginald''s attitude. At the moment, Reginald''s orange hair was a mess, like always, and his scowl was more profound than usual. His hands were in his pockets as he sat down.


    He remained silent momentarily, looking out the partially open window at Brisgald beyond. The High Priest had passed through here recently and had been doing a great deal of church business. And he''d taken his share, sure enough. Arranging supplies for Khasmir had been complex. All the tools and demands for protection.


    Varsus had been forced to get creative, finding cheaper routes that only burned a little time. But they had done.


    "What is it?" asked Varsus.


    "I cannot believe we missed the entire war!" Reginald exploded. "Damn our parents for making us go through this!" Reginald was technically the uncle of Baroness De Chevlon. Though he could have been her brother. His parents were cousins to Raynald and were of little prosperity or achievement. They had had children late.


    Thus Reginald and Varsus were introduced. Vanion''s friendship with Raynald had formed a schism in House De Chevlon. One that grew with Raynald''s fame.


    "Calm yourself, Reginald," said Varsus. "We have gained valuable experience with the administration of lands."


    "Damn the administration, Varsus," said Reginald. "I want to see some action. We''ve been organizing grain shipments for months. Do you know how often I''ve had to give money for ''unexpected expenses'' to the Thieves Guild? Or the church, for that matter?


    "And that bastard Rundas just sneered at me when I asked him for help. Like I was the dirt off his shoes. I hope Raynald guts the bastard when he comes back.


    "Meanwhile, your cousin William has gotten all the glory."


    "There are many ways to serve one''s house, Reginald," said Varsus, filing away the documents. Father had always said that, but Varsus was not like Father. He had been told he took after Uncle Vanion more and began to see why that was said.


    Though Varsus was considered a much better fighter. Vanion had never been in an engagement without losing his sword.


    "Oh, come on," said Reginald. "You look me in the eye and tell me you aren''t disappointed we missed the war."


    Varsus sighed. "I cannot.


    "I admit, I wanted to prove my bravery upon the battlefield in a full-scale conflict. However, it was not Elranor''s will. So, I will content myself with finishing things here.


    "There will be another war soon enough." And when that happened, Varsus was not paying those bribes again. Something would have to be done about it, and he made a note to write to Lady Atravain and House Bailey on the subject.


    This was ridiculous.


    Harlenor was being prevented from conducting a holy crusade by its own church. There were solid gold statues in the Temple of the Gods that became more gaudy and elaborate by the day. Silver and gold were engraved on the very well. And in the meantime, people starved to death in the streets. And nobles who were actually using their time were undercut instead of aided.


    Should he write to Rius as well?


    No point; that man was an ineffectual fool and corrupt to the gills. He would probably try to use the letter to alert his criminal friends for some benefits. Something had to be done about him as well. There was news Prince Aras was out there, but Prince Aras was always out there. He was a man who was constantly traveling and rarely stayed in any one place for long.


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    Reginald peered across the table at him. "What makes you so sure there will be another war? Calisha got what it wanted."


    Varsus shrugged as he remembered his histories. Father had always tried to cite moral lessons from them. Meanwhile, Uncle had always sought pragmatic ones. Once, Lord Arthur Gabriel had read Varsus a story;


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    It was the story of Gwendoven, Anoa, and Orson.


    Anoa the Bright had been the first and most excellent King of Harlenor, uniting the human tribes. He drove out the elves and set events that reshaped the cosmos. Not only that, but he had gone to many other worlds and was known there as a great adventurer and conquerer.


    His companions were with him: Gwendoven, Lady of Horses, and Orson, the Greatest Knight to ever live. Their achievements were legendary. That was even before Anoa became King, and Gwendoven and Anoa were eventually married.


    However, as time passed, Orson and Gwendoven became too close. Eventually, an affair between them was revealed by Anoa''s son, Anoa II. Gwendoven had fled with Orson to the castle that was now Blackfear, and Anoa had pursued. There had been a great war, and enemies of Harlenor had seen their chance to seek vengeance.


    But Anoa had won.


    Depending on who you asked, the final battle had ended with Anoa defeating Orson in single combat. Or, alternatively, shooting him in the back from behind a stone. Gwendoven had been captured in battle and burned at stake.


    After that, Anoa lost patience with his neighbors. The High Elves had organized rebellions against him. Others had come out to raid him, like the goblins and gnolls. They all had suffered terribly and lamented the days when Sir Orson was at his master''s side.


    Harlenor had done pretty well out of it all. Anoa II became a King nearly as great as his Father, though less remembered. His achievements were largely in organizing the laws and roads. Anoa had an informal style, and there had been little in the way of records from his reign. Much of what was known was known from elves who survived his rampage. They conjured the picture of a demon in human form.


    Gail Arengeth had provided certain records, however. As had Tuor, the Disciple of Baltoth, before he betrayed Harlenor.


    It was interesting to note the reactions of the two.


    Father had viewed the story as a cautionary tale against succumbing to base passions. One must never allow lust to make one abandon one''s duty. Uncle had instead noted that if Orson was going to betray his King, he ought to have knifed him while his guard was down. That would have avoided a civil war, at least.


    Father had been incredulous at this. But Uncle had noted that the result was inevitable once the adultery was committed. Someone would find out, and Anoa would be enraged and burn everything down. It was just how Anoa operated. So if Orson was going to shame his knighthood and steal the King''s wife, he ought to do it properly. Just kill him before you take her and set yourself up at King.


    "Mediocre half-measures bring the worst of both worlds," Vanion had said over dinner.


    Best to kill Anoa II as well since Orson would want his own son by, Gwendoven on the throne. They were natural enemies in this. Though Uncle had added it as an afterthought, it would be better not to do it at all.


    That statement had met general agreement.


    Uncle had never liked Orson, dismissing him as an overrated scoundrel. He was one of the worst traitors in history, undeserving of his laurels. Father had embraced the romantic view of him, as had Mother. But then, Uncle didn''t like anyone from that period. The elves he considered sloppy and tyrannical, Anoa he considered wasteful and psychotic.


    To Uncle Vanion, the founding of Harlenor was a comedy of errors. A place populated by monsters who blundered around, causing ruin and menace. Eventually, they accidentally created Anoa II. And he was a good king who managed to get things running again. It was a cynical view of things born from a love of order and a hatred of unnecessary violence. And excessive violence more or less described that entire period.


    Everything had broken down. The systems set in place by Alchara failed, and the abuses became too great. The revolution arose and went too far in its retribution. Meanwhile, those trying to stop it responded in the worst possible way. Sylvar''s brutality with humanity from her raids in the Greenwood was a legend. Instead, those who could have mediated an end to things tried to use violence to settle grudges of their own.


    It was a tapestry of horrors and heroics. Beautiful and terrible, and one of those tapestries was on the wall now. This office had been the room where Varsus had heard that story.


    "Varsus, are you getting lost in your thoughts again?" asked Raynald. "I asked you a question."


    "That is the way of mortal races. We desire conflict in one form or another," said Varsus. "If the truce with Calisha holds, then the Kings of Harlenor will seek other enemies to fight. You cannot halt wars.


    "Only redirect them."


    "That''s odd," said Reginald. "Your uncle, Vanion, seems to spend most of his time trying."


    Varsus looked out the window at the courtyard below. In this very office, his uncle had uncovered a conspiracy. In one move, he''d made a fool of a powerful demon and discredited his political rivals. Not to mention, he secured himself a place as King Andoa''s most trusted lieutenant. Varsus had yet to match the feat.


    "My Uncle is not interested in world peace," he said at last. "Merely the advancement of his house, and through it, the creation of Harlenor Reunited. His method is through appealing to enlightened self-interest." Uncle had no faith in the benevolence of humankind, not like Father did. Father believed that if given a chance to do the right thing, most people would do it. And those who chose the path of evil must be allowed their choice and be pitied for it.


    Uncle, in contrast, believed that if you incentivized people to do the right thing, they might do it. Provided you had something to threaten them with to keep them in line.


    An important destinction.


    "Well, what about our self-interest?" asked Reginald. "How will we get our names out there if we''re not even near the fighting? I mean, I know we seized those shipments a few months ago. But that''s small compared to some of the battles."


    Varsus took out a letter and raised it. Reginald peered at it. "What''s that?"


    "It is an announcement," said Varsus. "Gel Carn is holding a tournament. They hope that the strongest and bravest of Harlenor will go and fight there.


    "It is of symbolic importance. And there are rumors that the Heir of Kings will be participating."


    "You mean the mystical descendant of Anoa the Bright, destined to reunite Harlenor?" asked Reginald. "I''ll believe that when I see it."


    "Be that as it may," said Varsus, "Harlenor will be paying attention to the tournaments. There is a good reason to think that every nation will send knights there. And I have received permission from my uncle to go there and represent House Gabriel."


    "That''s perfect!" said Reginald, a grin on his face. "Right, we''ll head there and win the tournament! Well, one of us will."


    "You should also seek the Baroness De Chevlon''s blessing," said Varsus.


    Reginald leaned back. "She''ll want to see this for herself. I would want to participate if it weren''t for the elders forbidding that sort of thing. I''ll speak to her about it as soon as possible.


    "Finally, a proper challenge." He stood up and stretched.


    "Just don''t become overconfident," said Varsus. "There are many fine swordsmen in Harlenor. And most of them will be at the Tournament of Kings."


    "I wouldn''t have it any other way," said Reginald, grin becoming like a shark.


    As he left the office, Varsus decided he''d had all he could bear of administrative work. Even if he would never admit it. Showing weakness was always a bad thing. He wondered what Anoa, Orson, and Gwendoven would have thought of the world they created.

 Chapter 194 - One: Heroes Return

    Ajax was in a foul mood today, despite the beautiful clear skies. But the wolf boy had never let a bad mood stop him from victory. So he continued to practice his stances with his sword, hour after hour. Unfortunately, no one else had been interested in teaching him, so Relma had to be the one to give him an understanding.


    Relma had only been practicing with a sword for over six months. So things weren''t going well. A breeze blew through the long grass near them and flowed through her golden hair and Ajax''s silver.


    "I hate this," snapped Ajax.


    "Complaining never solved anything, Ajax," said Relma. "Though if it did, you probably would have fixed every problem in the world by now."


    Ajax glanced up, his silver hair flowing behind him as he snarled. "How can mortals fight like this? Just practicing stances and rehearsing moves. Like I''m learning to dance."


    "What did you think we did to learn to fight?" asked Relma, curious.


    "I fight using the berserk fury of my heritage," said Ajax. "The instinct and powers ingrained within me from birth allow me to tear my foes apart easily. I have the blood of the Alpha in me, after all."


    "That''s nice," said Relma. Ajax had told her about the Alpha, and she''d read a bit. It was a werewolf belief in a deity that had taken on the form of a human peasant and fed itself willingly to five wolves. Each wolf then gained kinship to humanity and the intellect and strength that came with it. "Unfortunately, we mere mortals don''t have instincts on that level. So you''ll just have to learn to fight like everyone else who doesn''t have a heritage." Ajax looked at her in surprise. Then he narrowed his eyes. Relma shifted beneath his gaze. "What?"


    "You are the last person in the world to say that," said Ajax, lowering his sword.


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "You are the Heir of Kings. The last descendant of Anoa the Bright" said Ajax. "You are literally wearing the sword of a god at your side. Until you have a child or kill Baltoth, destiny will conspire to ensure you survive."


    Relma glanced down to Lightning Trail. It didn''t look like the sword of a god at the moment. If she had to pick two words, they would be aggressively ordinary. But then, that was the point, wasn''t it?


    What was all that about her being destined to survive, though? "I don''t think it works that way," said Relma after a moment. "I think if I did something really stupid, I would get killed. Aunt Pan wouldn''t be so protective of me if I were immune to everything."


    Ajax shrugged. "Prophecies always come true. At best, you can twist them to fulfill the letter of the prediction while ignoring the intent. That''s one of the reasons father broke up with Baltoth. He didn''t want to end up on the losing side."


    "Well yeah, but how do we really know that I am the last descendant?" asked Relma, lowering her sword. "Maybe Anoa had a mistress who was written out of the history books. Or maybe Anoa''s reincarnation had a family, and they count as well. Or maybe Anoa could return from heaven and sire new descendants."


    "Yes, but the prophecy also states that they will reunite Harlenor," said Ajax. "A descendant of a mistress no one knows about would never actually be able to get any support. It''s the same for reincarnation and for returning from heaven...


    "When was the last time anybody in Harlenor saw an angel?"


    Relma thought about all her lessons with Aunt Pan. She searched through her memories for any mention of angels. Everyone knew angels existed, of course. They were natural counterparts to demons and spirits. But she couldn''t think of a time they appeared.


    "...Um, never," she said at last.


    Ajax shook his head, sending his silver hair flowing around him. "A long time ago. Father fought with one once, but they rarely involve themselves."


    "Why do you think that is?" asked Relma. She had her own ideas, but she was curious about his reasons.


    "How should I know?" asked Ajax with a shrug. "Most gods have some kind of immortal servant who leads their armies. But Elranor is much more hands-off.


    "He''s doing something right, given that he remains the dominant power in this region of the world."


    "I think Elranor wants people to make choices for themselves," said Relma. She remembered the last time she saw Elranor and how reasonable he''d been. Having angels coming in and leading the armies would interfere with that.


    "I don''t know," said Ajax. "But-" Suddenly, he sniffed up at the air. His eyes narrowed, and he sheathed his sword. His clawed hands were bared.


    "What is it, you smell?" asked Relma.


    "Estela," said Ajax. "She''s coming up the path ahead."


    Estela was back? Relma felt a surge of happiness at that news. "I''m going to go meet her."


    "Go right ahead," said Ajax.


    He turned and stalked off into the woods.


    Shortly after that, Estela came around the bend. Her dark hair had been cut short in several places. Her armor was chipped and dented in several places, and her cloak was shredded. She looked up as Relma approached and blinked before Relma hugged her.


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    The effect of the hug was diminished by the armor. Ow.


    "Estela!" said Relma. "You''re back from the war! What happened?"


    Estela sighed. "The war is over, and we are victorious." However, she didn''t sound very enthusiastic.


    "So you beat the Calishans?" asked Relma.


    "No," said Estela before walking past.


    Relma ran after her. Why was she in such a bad mood? "Wait, but you said you won."


    "We were winning," said Estela. "We had the entire army right where we wanted it. Then Duke Vanion had tea with their leader, King Banir, and released him and the entire army. So instead of pressing the attack, we sent the Calishans on their merry way." She sighed. "It was probably for the best. The Calishans were almost a sideshow compared to Wraith.


    "Maybe he knew he was coming."


    "Whose Wraith?" asked Relma.


    "Laughing Wraith. Ancient, unknowable, demon thing," said Estela, raising one hand dismissively. "I don''t know; I didn''t quite get it. He screwed up our defenses right before the Calishans attacked. Also, he hurt a lot of people for fun.


    "Baltoth was using him as a distraction so we could catch his armies. So the whole thing ended in a stalemate."


    "Okay," said Relma. "So, um, what did you win?"


    "We won the war right after that," said Estela. "There was this huge invasion of snake things with scythes for arms. Someone called them raishans. They fell out of the sky in Khasmir and started killing people.


    "No plunder though, demons don''t need money."


    Relma tried to remember her geography classes. "Khasmir, that''s north of Artarq, isn''t it?"


    "Yes," said Estela. "We got a call for help and followed it. It turned out that an evil sorcerer summoned them into Khasmir to destroy his enemies. He was called Karasush."


    "So you killed the sorcerer," guessed Relma.


    "No, we killed the raishans," said Estela. "Then we made a treaty with the sorcerer, and he got off with a stern warning. That one wasn''t due to Vanion; he wasn''t there. It was his son."


    "You mean William Gabriel?" said Relma. She''d read his book recently and hadn''t thought it was all that great. However, Arengeth had given her a copy. "What was he like?"


    "I only saw him once or twice," admitted Estela. "He was dressed in black armor with a helmet like a skull. Also, Tanith was there. They got on great." Her voice went dark.


    "Tanith?" asked Relma. What had she been scheming there?


    "Yes," said Estela. "I''d have loved to dispense some justice, but it wasn''t my territory. I wasn''t going to kill a friend of the reigning Lord without a good reason."


    "But couldn''t you have told someone?" asked Relma.


    "I did tell Raynald De Chevlon about it," said Estela. "Tanith simply denied it. And since she was his student, he believed her."


    "But couldn''t we do something about this? We could provide proof about what she did," asked Relma.


    "Even if we could provide proof, Tanith is the daughter of Edmund Telus," said Estela. "One of the most influential friends of Duke Vanion in Haldren. Who are we? Gel Carn might have been Harlenor United''s capital once, but you''re a backwater now.


    "Steward Benarus is a vassal of King Andoa in all but name. You don''t have nearly enough respect to warrant that kind of attention. And you don''t have any weight to throw around." Relma needed help figuring out how to continue this discussion. Finally, she decided to change the subject. "Where are Ronald and Frederick?"


    "They should be coming up behind me soon enough," said Estela. "Frederick stopped to fight it out with a knight who insulted a lady. I think."


    Best to change the subject. "So, how did you do in the war?"


    "Fairly well," said Estela. "I wasn''t commended for bravery like De Cathe. And I spent more getting to Artarq than I made with my pay. But if nothing else, I can say I''ve seen combat.


    "Honestly, the whole thing was a wash regarding material gain. I didn''t even make enough to repair my armor."


    "So, you regret going?" asked Relma. She hoped not. Estela had spent months out there.


    Estela gave her a grin. "Not at all."


    As they walked along the road, Relma considered what else to ask. There were a lot of things she wanted to know about the north. But then, she ought to inquire as to the others first. "So what about Argath? Any news of him?"


    "The last time I saw him, he was heading north to Estal," said Estela. "He was going to begin his raids against Calisha. That was months ago. He didn''t seem very happy about it."


    "Then why did he do it?" asked Relma.


    "He serves Steward Benarus," said Estela, shrugging. "Benarus wanted to prove that Gel Carn was a power in its own right. Argath is the best tactician he has, so he sent him raiding whether Argath liked it or not didn''t matter.


    "I heard he burned several Calishan villages. Though the Calishans hit Antion from the Sea of Power to the east. They gave as good as they got."


    Relma didn''t really like this discussion. Neither did she like how Estela was condescending toward her realm of birth. "I just thought of something.


    "What is it?" asked Estela.


    "If Gel Carn is a backwater, then what does it say about you, a Princess of Escor, that you were sent here?" asked Relma.


    "That House Vortegex needs all the help it can get if you must know," said Estela. "House Stomstrike has been looking to overthrow us for a long time."


    "What kind of name is Stormstrike?" asked Relma.


    "A pretentious one," said Estela. "A bunch of silver dragon worshippers. Where has Ajax gone off to, anyway? I saw his tracks nearby when I was passing.


    "Why is he roaming free?"


    "Yeah, um, one of the conditions of the treaty with Telix was that Ajax be allowed to walk freely," said Relma. "He''s sworn to do no harm to any person in Gel Carn. Aunt Pan wanted to make a necklace that keeps him in line, but, well..."


    "What?" said Estela.


    "Telix wouldn''t stand for it," said Relma. "I don''t really blame him, to be honest. It would be like forcing him to wear a collar."


    "I''m gone for a few months, and you give a half-demon the run of Gel Carn," muttered Estela.


    "It wasn''t my decision," said Relma.


    "I''m sure it''s somehow your fault," said Estela.


    "Hey!" said Relma.


    "I''m joking, obviously," said Estela. "Come on, let''s get something to eat. I''m famished for anything but rations. The roads were insane and took way too long."


    As they rounded the bend, they came within sight of Gel Carn. When Relma first came before it, it seemed like some castle out of legends, with exaggerated colors and shining spires. Since that time, it had changed to something more down to earth. She''d spent too much time around it for her awe to be the same. It was odd how things changed.


    "Estela?" said Relma.


    "Yes?" asked Estela.


    "Will you be fighting in the Tournament of Kings?" asked Relma.


    "What tournament?" asked Estela.


    It looked like Relma would have to do some explaining of her own.


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 Chapter 195 - Two: The Nature of Greatness

    Relma and Estela did not enter Gel Carn at once; they had someone to meet on the way. So instead, they stopped by a large house that stood just outside the walls. It was surrounded by a large, well-made fence with a grown garden. Aunt Pan was in the front yard, painting runes. She''d never liked dwelling in the castles, so Relma had to live outside. She wore simple brown robes, and her dark hair fell around her majestically as always.


    Despite her simple garb, she looked rather like a Princess or Queen.


    Relma actually didn''t mind this; stone walls had terrible insulation. And all the servants made her feel awkward. Especially when Steward Benarus had suggested they become permenant honored guests. Yes, Relma wanted to be king of Harlenor Reunited, but she didn''t want the gold and jewels, so to speak.


    It was the power to help people that appealed to her.


    Aunt Pan''s canvases were leather pieces, and she did not look up at once as they came. Pan finished her work with a look of concentration. Then she looked at them. "So you''ve returned at last, have you, Estela?"


    "Yes," said Estela.


    "Did you learn anything worthwhile?" asked Aunt Pan.


    Estela considered it. "Possibly."


    "Well, then the war might not have been a complete waste," said Pan. "Relma, I see you''ve come back also."


    "Yes, Aunt Pan," said Relma. "Um, did Ajax come through here?"


    "No," said Pan. "I thought he was with you."


    "Why were you spending time with Ajax?" asked Estela.


    "I''ve been teaching him swordplay," said Relma.


    "Well then, I''m sure he''ll end up dead if he ever tries to fight with a sword," said Estela with a sigh.


    "Hey, I''ve gotten a lot better," said Relma.


    "You''ve lost every fight you''ve ever been in," said Estela.


    "You lost to Ajax too," said Relma, looking away. "And the first one, I didn''t even have a sword."


    "Fine, fine," said Estela. "Lady Pandora, Relma tells me there will be a tournament here. Is that true?"


    "Yes," said Aunt Pan. "Argath Marn''s raids have provided Gel Carn with an influx of money. Benarus is using this as a chance to draw attention here. There have been several invitations so far. I''m surprised you didn''t hear about it."


    "We took a route through the wilderness on our way here," said Estela. "We must have missed it."


    "Ah, yes. The wilderness," said Pan. Her eyes became far away. "There is a lot of that in Southern Antion these days."


    "Is something wrong, Aunt Pan?" asked Relma.


    "I just remembered how it used to be. There used to be villages and castles all across that area," said Pan, a sad smile coming to her face. "You couldn''t walk a mile without coming to a farmstead of some kind." S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What happened?" asked Estela, looking interested.


    "Many things," said Pan with a sigh. "Most of them Baltoth''s fault. King Anoa IX died in an ambush. There was a great civil war that ravaged the land. The Withering called forth undead. A demonic invasion swept into the southern reaches. Over many years, the area was depopulated.


    "Now it is just Southern Antion. This place used to be the heart of Harlenor."


    Relma shifted. "I''ll rebuild it someday, Aunt Pan," she promised.


    "Stop making promises you can''t keep, Relma," said Aunt Pan in a tired tone. "It would take generations to repopulate these lands. And Laevian would never allow it." She looked at the rune she''d been working on. "Wonderful, I made one of the marks wrong. I''ll have to scrap the whole project."


    "What?" said Relma. "But that one looks good."


    "I am devoted to quality in my work," said Pan. "If this rune fails, my client will complain to his family and friends. They''ll never buy from me again." She moved with one hand, and the rune melted away into nothingness. "Waste of good ink.


    Estela cleared her throat. "At any rate, I''d like to enter this tournament if I can."


    "Well, you''d have to be a knight to do that," said Relma. "Though, given where you''ve been, I could see you being knighted. Assuming you did well.


    "You did do well, didn''t you?"


    "I stood my ground and killed several raishans," said Estela. "Also, two Calishans."


    "How unfortunate for them," said Pan. "I really do have to finish this rune."


    "What is it for? asked Estela.


    "A blacksmith is concerned that fairies are getting into his stores," said Pan.


    "Aren''t fairies pained by iron?" asked Estela.


    "Yes," said Pan. "I did warn him that it was unlikely, but it''s his choice to purchase my services. And once I''ve given my warning, who am I to complain?"


    "Couldn''t you just kill the fairies?" asked Estela.


    Relma looked up in shock. Why would Estela suggest something like that? Pan looked on with irritation. "No, there aren''t many left. You can thank Relma''s ancestor, Anoa the Bright, for all that."


    "What did he do?" asked Estela.


    "Well, the fairy''s as a race was always close with the elves," said Aunt Pan. "They exist between the physical and the spiritual realm. Thanks to their alliance, the fairies were always talking with the spirits. As a result, they ensured that humanity could not get the food they needed to increase in population. And also that those who rebelled against the elves could not get food at all.


    "Trees would draw back from rebels'' hands, and water would recede when they tried to drink. It ensured starting a rebellion incredibly difficult."


    "Why would they do that?" asked Relma.


    "The elves regarded humanity as a tolerated blight on the environment," said Pan. "They admitted that humans had a right to exist but were ridged in ensuring they got no further.


    "Not that it did any good against Anoa."


    "What did he do?" asked Relma.


    "When trees would not bear him fruit, he hacked them down and used them to fuel forest fires. When the rivers refused to quench his thirst, he had his men drink the blood of horses. Then he threw the bodies into the rivers," said Pan before catching their blank look. "Horses were a breed of swift creatures that lived on the plains of Escor. Elves rode them into battle, similar to the halfling wolves.


    "The elves had made pacts with them so that they would never help any other race. Anoa attempted to make an alliance with them several times. But they always stayed true to their oaths.


    "So Anoa killed them all and ate them. He had a policy of never leaving a living enemy behind him."


    "Well, he was our greatest king for a reason," said Estela.


    "But what about the fairies?" asked Relma.


    "Anoa hated them especially," said Pandora. "Their casual outlook on others suffering infuriated him. You see when he was twelve, he had a scuffle with an elven boy who attacked him and sent him packing. The elf was chided and sent to bed without supper.


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    "Anoa was sentenced to go without food for a month. All of the spirits were forbidden from helping him in the region. Anoa''s response was to walk out of the province to find someone that would help him. While he was traveling, looking for food, fairies made jokes at his expense.


    "So he made common cause with a fire spirit and burned the place to the ground. A deer was caught by a falling tree, and he killed it, before eating his fill amidst the flames.


    "That was the story he told me when I tried to convince him not to wipe out the entire species. Anoa was hundreds of years old at the time, and he had a mindset that he was a representative of humanity as a whole. If something had happened to him, clearly, it would have happened to many other people. So individual injustices dealt to him became justifications for mass slaughter. All on an unprecedented scale.


    "Gwendovan and Orsen were the only people who could talk sense into him."


    "Did he solve any of his problems without purging a species?" asked Relma.


    "Well, at one point," said Pan, "there was a famine in a region of Escor. Merchants from other lands were gouging the local populace for the food they so needed. And local lords in surrounding lands were doing nothing.


    "Anoa sent them a letter to all the local lords telling them to behave. Just as humans ought to other humans or ''suffer his extraordinary displeasure.'' Just that.


    The lords quickly arranged for the excess harvest to be sent to aid them free of charge. No one wanted to find out what Anoa was like when extraordinarily displeased. So the famine passed, and peace was restored."


    "Violence was his answer to everything, wasn''t it?" asked Relma.


    "It was a different time," said Pan. "Anoa was loved by humanity. He made them the dominant power in Harlenor and drove out all their enemies. He then did exactly the same thing to those enemies that they were doing to his people.


    "Unfortunately, elves, fairies, and dragons don''t repopulate as quickly as humans."


    "What about the goblins?" asked Estela.


    Pan sighed. "Those Anoa wiped out just in case."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "Anoa was paranoid as well as brutal. He believed that the humans defeated the elves thanks to superior numbers. And he was afraid the goblins could do the same to humans. If they ever organized, that is," said Pan. "So he took steps to destroy them all.


    "As far as I know, he succeeded.


    "But to get back on the point, Estela, I think you stand a decent chance at getting knighted in time for the tournament."


    "What about me?" asked Relma.


    "Relma, you didn''t even go to Khasmir," said Pan, looking at her in surprise.


    "Because you refused to let me go!" said Relma.


    "Estela has years of training under her belt," said Pan. "Ronald was the squire of Sir Frederick. You were neither. It would be murder sending you out there into battle."


    "Well, I still retrieved Lightning Trail!" said Relma.


    "Relma, you only just began training with the sword a few months ago," said Estela. "What makes you think you''re qualified to fight there?"


    "Hey, I''ve gotten a lot better," said Relma.


    "Not better enough, I''m afraid, dear," said Pan, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Train for a year or two, and then we''ll talk about going into battle."


    Estela stretched her neck. "Come on, Relma. Why don''t you show me how your skills have advanced. If nothing else, it will make me look good to crush you."


    "You might be surprised," said Relma.


    Estela led Relma away to a field just outside the house. There she drew her sword and flourished it. "So, who is the Master of Arms at this point?"


    Relma drew the blade. "To be honest, most of the fighting men went off in the second wave to Artarq. The castle has been downright empty lately. It''s why I figured I''d live with Aunt Pan."


    "So, who is the Master of Arms?" asked Estela.


    "That would be me." said a voice.


    Estela shuddered and saw an ordinary-looking man walking out of the woods. He went clad in black clothes and had dark hair to the neck and a slight beard. Estela narrowed her eyes. "Davian? How do you do that?"


    "Do what?" asked Davian.


    "Appear just out of nowhere when no one is looking," said Estela.


    "If no one was looking, how could you know from where and when I appeared?" asked Davian. Estela met his gaze. Davian stared back. Eventually, she looked away. "So you''re the Master of Arms? What are you doing out here?"


    "In the sense that I am responsible for overseeing the remaining troops. And also the distribution of weapons," said Davian. "As for what I am doing out here, I am talking with you."


    "But... I always thought you were Benarus'' footman!" said Estela.


    "I fulfill many essential duties for the castle of Gel Carn," said Davian. "Usually when no one else may do so. Here is the sword you wanted, Relma? Lightning Trail really shouldn''t be used for spars."


    He drew a blade and tossed it to her. Relma caught it in her hands. "But I didn''t even ask for one yet."


    "I heard you talking," said Davian. "Estela, I should be on your guard. Relma has advanced greatly over the past few months."


    "I''ve been to war, Davian. I think I can fend for myself," said Estela. "Heir of Kings or no."


    Davian smiled. "As you say. You''d best put Lightning Trail aside. It would not be due for it to be damaged."


    Relma doubted that Lightning Trail could be damaged. But she obeyed anyway. When she was in Gel Carn, Relma had begun to suspect that Davian was not human. He appeared in places without warning and unnerved everyone he spoke with. Even Steward Benarus.He had command over guards. But no one ever saw those guards. Relma had the feeling he wasn''t exactly human. Probably a spirit or something bound to Gel Carn.


    Either way, she took her stance across from Estela. Estela took a low guard. Then they clashed. Relma went on the offensive at once. She repeatedly slashed at Estela, and Estela yielded ground in surprise. Within moments she nearly fell from her feet. Then Relma lost her momentum, and Estela struck back.


    In the next few moments, Relma was forced to give ground. She tried to slip around Estela''s guard. But she overextended, and Estela motioned with her wrist. Relma''s sword flew from her hand and landed with the point down in the dirt.


    Estela motioned to it, and Relma picked it up.


    "How did you get so good so quickly?" asked Estela.


    "I''ve been practicing a lot," said Relma.


    "For a few months," said Estela, sounding a bit offended. "I''ve been training with weapons my entire life!"


    "I guess..." Relma paused. "I guess it just came naturally. I''ve heard that if you were really good at something in a past life and learned it in another, you pick it up more easily."


    Estela took a stance. "Maybe. Let''s go again."


    Relma did so. For a moment, they paused. Then Estela lunged. Relma deflected several strikes, only to have her sword beaten down. A blade was at her throat. "Wow, Estela, that was... how do you move so quickly?"


    "I picked up a few things while in Khasmir," said Estela, stepping back. "You''ve got a long way to go before you''re anywhere near my level."


    This was at least partially bluster. Relma was much closer to Estela than Estela would like to admit, wasn''t she? "Do you think I could make it in the tournament, though? If I were able to enter?"


    Estela walked on, with Relma trailing behind. "No. You''d embarrass yourself. And don''t even think about sneaking through. You know as well as I that your Aunt Pan would spot you a mile away.


    "And this time, Arengeth isn''t around to bail us out."


    "Right," said Relma. Estela had said that too quickly.


    She let herself trail behind Estela and went to get Lightning Trail back. Davian had disappeared, as usual. But, as she sat down on a stone and looked at Lightning Trail, a shadow was cast over her. She looked up and saw Anoa the Bright. "Hello, Relma."


    He was different somehow. He was clad in a white tunic and pants. His hair was cut shorter, and he was sitting cross-legged in front of her. Even sitting, he was taller than her, though.


    "Anoa?" asked Relma. "When did you get here?"


    "I''ve always been here, if you must know," said Anoa. "Though not always in the same form." Relma peered at him. Something was different. About his posture. His expression. His face seemed to radiate light, and his hair was brighter, almost shining gold. But it was all on the surface. "You seem a bit different."


    "How so?" he inquired, smiling. It was not a pleasant smile.


    "I don''t know, I mean, you''re a bit more outwardly fair," said Relma.


    "No doubt with inner malice." laughed Anoa. "That''s natural. The more you learn history, the more you realize there are no perfect heroes. You''ve seen beneath the facade of perfection, and so you perceive me differently."


    "That was what I guessed," said Relma. "I never got a chance to thank you for guiding us back then. If you hadn''t come along, we''d have never found Lightning Trail."


    "Probably not," said Anoa. "But then, if things had gone poorly, I''d have accidentally led you to your death. In retrospect leading you to the cave of a powerful ogre sorcerer was not my best judgment call." His gaze turned to Lightning Trail. "Not my worst, though."


    "What was your worst?" asked Relma.


    "I have enough contenders to fill a thousand books," said Anoa. "History tends to be determined more by mistakes than success. But, as a great man, it is only fair I have my share of them.


    "But enough of this.


    "You want to enter the Tournament of Kings, don''t you?"


    "Yes," said Relma. "Of course, but Aunt Pan-"


    "Has only your best interests at heart, I''m sure," said Anoa. "But I''ve always believed that failing is the best way to learn. The man who fails a thousand times is better than the man who never tries."


    "I guess I could wait for the next tournament," noted Relma.


    "I suppose you could," said Anoa.


    He looked at her. Relma met his gaze, tinged with amusement. She realized he was waiting for her. He wanted her to make the first move. "...Do you have a way I can participate in the Tournament of Kings?"


    "But of course, milady," said Anoa, rising to his feet. "I''m surprised you had to ask. If you wish, I can disguise you so that even Pandora would not notice you. Of course, you''ll need a suit of armor, but I''m sure I can arrange for that."


    "How?" asked Relma.


    Anoa smiled. "There are many ancient treasure troves throughout this land. Places where I hid valuables in times long past. I will take you to one such place.


    "Follow me, and I will get you armor."


    "Right, I''ll just finish my chores, and then we can go," said Relma. "I have some things I have to do before I can go."


    "Whenever you want," said Anoa. "Just remember to bring bags."


    Relma had a bad feeling about this. But how else was she going to get into the tournament? And she also felt that Anoa was something more or less than what he appeared. She wanted to know the truth.

 Chapter 196 - Three: Living Legends

    They walked together into the wilderness, and Relma kept a hand near Lightning Trail. The trees above them were thin and beautiful. They were white-barked with low-hanging branches she''d climbed with Ronald in the old days. But soon, they entered the darker parts of the forest. The trees became thicker, and the light came through the leaves less. As they did, Anoa looked more and more on edge. It was as if something was hurting him, but he was trying to hide it. Relma wondered what it was. Some inner conflict or spiritual attack?


    She supposed that Anoa would be subjected to those now and then. On the other hand, Relma doubted all he did was sit around and wait for the descendant. He probably had important responsibilities from Elranor. But it did not seem right to ask him about them now.


    But what was the conflict? The sword? It was his sword. He was the first to wield it.


    "Come quickly," said Anoa. "We have little time to waste. We don''t want anyone to get suspicious, do we?"


    Relma decided enough was enough. "...Anoa, can I ask you something?"


    "What is it?" asked Anoa.


    "Something is different about you," said Relma. "It''s not just your appearance."


    Anoa sighed, and his appearance shifted, looking more human. It was difficult to describe exactly what had changed. It was something about how he carried himself. "That is to be expected. You see when we first met, my mind was somewhat divided."


    "Divided?" asked Relma.


    "As an ascended being, I exist outside of this material plane," said Anoa. "During our first encounter, I underwent an assault on my spirit. It left my mind somewhat... changed. "Since then, I have pulled myself together."


    "Who launched the attack?" asked Relma curiously.


    Anoa remained silent for a long moment. As if considering his answer. But why would he feel the need to consider it? Was he reluctant to tell her? Or was he tailoring the story like she had when getting caught doing something naughty as a child? "...I really shouldn''t be telling you this. But I suppose there is no harm in warning you. The machinations of Duke Vanion Gabriel run very deep. It was through one of his agents that I was brought to harm."


    Duke Vanion Gabriel. That was a name Relma had heard a lot lately, even this far south. He was growing in power. Aren and Aunt Pan disliked him. But to attack Anoa the Bright? "What? But how could he-"


    "Vanion does not regard anything as sacred," said Anoa, looking somewhat cornered. "To him, the gods are but kings to be toppled. I''m afraid that if he is not stopped, he may eventually come to rule over Antion. And from there, he may seek to bind the other Harlenorian Kingdoms to his will.


    "He would create Harlenor Reunited in his own image. Ignoring the intent of the prophecy." Why did Anoa fear Vanion Gabriel? Surely Vanion was only one of many nobles and an outsider. How could such a person take control of Antion in one lifetime? Maybe he is marrying into it, but that would be his son. Vanion was already married to an Amazon; Aunt Pan had told her that much. That was not an arrangement you could break.


    Was he really that dangerous?


    Relma nodded. "Well, I''ll stop him if it comes to that." He wasn''t telling her something, but she didn''t want him to know that she knew.


    Anoa smiled and ruffled her hair. It felt good, and Relma wondered if her Father or Mother would have done this had they lived. "You may look at that. That is why I want you to fight in this tournament. I believe the best way to stop Vanion is to speed up Elranor''s schedule. If the Heir of Kings comes into her own early, then Vanion won''t be able to become King of Antion."


    "Does Elranor agree?" asked Relma suddenly.


    Anoa flinched. His eyes darted to the sword, then away. "As you can no doubt attest, Elranor is nothing if not respectful of the will of the individual. He allows his agents to serve him in whatever way they deem best. He likes to provide only occasional oversight from the sidelines.


    "It is both his greatest strength and his greatest weakness." He started walking, and Relma walked with him. "Either way, should you win the tournament, it will spread your name throughout the land. You will have a great deal more credibility. And that will help you in claiming your rightful inheritance."


    So Anoa and Elranor disagreed on methods?


    "What if I lose?" said Relma. "Won''t that discredit me?"


    "That is why you will enter the tournament in disguise," said Anoa. "Wear a helmet that conceals your face, and I will devise a spell to conceal you. Then, if you are defeated, none will know it was the Heir of Kings.


    "While if you are victorious, you may throw off your helm after being proclaimed the victory. Then, in one move, you will spread your renown far and wide. In this region, at least." He paused. "All creatures face a choice at some point, Relma. You can try to win. Or you can let someone else try for you. Only the former path leads to greatness.


    "Here we are."


    Before they were large hillocks. It was covered in a green turf and trees had grown around it. Was there some kind of secret passage?


    "I don''t see anything," said Relma.


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    "Of course, you don''t," said Anoa with a laugh. "You don''t expect caches to remain untouched for thousands of years without being hidden?"


    "Was it really thousands of years?" asked Relma. A lot could happen in that time.


    "It was a large number," said Anoa. "Harlenor is not fond of specific dates, and I have no memory of them. I was merely being poetic. Our calendar is a very loose one compared to other worlds.


    "You''ve been to other worlds?" asked Relma.


    "Many," said Anoa. "But I won''t be talking about that.


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    "Open wheat?" asked Relma. That was the most ridiculous password she''d ever heard.


    Anoa looked at her and shrugged. "When I made this cache, I wanted something easy to remember but hard to guess. So I''d keep a bit of wheat on me when I was walking.


    "And wheat is important. It''s a good way to feed your people. If a King is failing to feed his populace, that King has failed completely."


    "It doesn''t seem to be opening?" noted Relma.


    Anoa paused. Then he snapped his fingers. "...Oh, right."


    "What is it?" asked Relma.


    "The language has changed," said Anoa. "I''ll need to speak it in the old tongue of Harlenor." He spoke something. It was a harsh tongue that hurt Relma''s ears to listen to. It seemed like a great language for threatening people. As he spoke, the side of the hillock suddenly fell inward to reveal a great stone door. The door slid aside to reveal a dark cave beyond.


    "There we go. The doors are opened now-" began Anoa.


    And then two gray snakelike creatures, only with legs, rushed out of the entrance. Relma quickly scrambled up a tree as they snapped and snarled. They had crests on their heads and breathed smoke from their nostrils. Their clawed hands left no marks on the roots.


    Anoa blinked, staying where he was. "Oh right, the dragons."


    "Dragons?!" asked Relma.


    "Well, not really dragons, more imitations," said Anoa. "They were created in the image of gold dragons. Aren made them for me."


    "Well, how am I supposed to get past them?" said Relma, drawing Lightning Trail.


    One of the beasts scaled up the tree, but she whacked it on the snout. She didn''t feel any force, and she thought she''d missed it. But it fell backward and hit the ground. There was a crack on its snout, but it healed in moments.


    "Not really sure," admitted Anoa, looking in interest. "To be honest, it has been a very long time since I''ve been here. It may be some kind of secret test."


    Flames were unleashed from their mouths, covering the underbrush. Clouds of smoke rose around her. Relma climbed higher to avoid the heat. Though it wasn''t as hot as she thought it would be.


    "Some test!" said Relma. "They''re trying to burn me alive!"


    "Please don''t demean your heritage, Relma," said Anoa. "Calm down, look, and think." Relma looked at the dragons. Then she looked at the underbrush that had caught fire. She remembered the heat from the forest fire Ronald had started in the wolven forest. But she felt none of that. Neither was she choking on the smoke.


    "...The fire isn''t actually burning anything," she realized.


    Taking a chance, she climbed down. The dragons breathed fire at her, but it passed her by. She felt nothing beneath it. Then they faded away. At the mouth of the cave, she could see two dragon statues rearing on their hind legs. But they were still as stone.


    "Precisely," said Anoa. "This was a stopgap measure to scare robbers off. I expect a magical signal has been sent to Gel Carn''s inner sanctum, telling them the door has been opened."


    "What? But this has to be secret!" said Relma.


    "Don''t worry. No one has been in my inner sanctum for years," said Anoa. "Even if the signal still works, I doubt anyone will understand it.


    "Now, quickly into the cache."


    He and Relma walked into the cache. Within, she found treasure, lots and lots of treasure. Gold and silver piled higher than she was tall. Valuable weapons and equipment were all over the place. She found her jaw drop. "Elranor above. Where did... how did you get all of this?"


    "I stole it," said Anoa.


    Relma stared at him. He gave her an unapologetic look. "Don''t give me that look. I stole it from elves who wanted to wipe the human race out. And they wouldn''t have been able to get any use from it anyway. They were running for their lives into the east."


    "You don''t really live up to your own legend?" asked Relma. Finally, his black sense of humor landed, despite her own efforts.


    "No one lives up to their own legend," said Anoa. "Especially Kings. Now you''d best fill your bags with gold as quickly as possible. I don''t like leaving the doors open like this."


    Relma took out the bags and began to fill them as much as she could. Then Anoa sighed. "No, not that full. You''ll break them. And you won''t be able to carry that much."


    Relma nodded and picked up what looked to be a solid gold plate. "Not that either," said Anoa. "It isn''t nearly as valuable as it looks. You''ll want that one." He pointed to a different plate that looked no more or less valuable.


    "How do you know so much about things'' value?" asked Relma.


    "My mother was a metalsmith of luxury items for the elves," said Anoa. "And the husband of a god. I kept up the habit."


    "Wait, you worked for the elves?" asked Relma.


    "There was a condescending portion of the elven nations. They kept human servants," said Anoa. "Rather than wipe them out, they pretended to help them. Lord Feanor was the most insufferable of the lot."


    "Ah," said Relma, continuing to pick objects of value. "So, how did you end up turning against them?"


    "An elven king heard that one of the people in my village had made jokes at his expense," said Anoa. "So he burned it to the ground. To this day, I don''t know if it is true. There was hardly even any outrage. Although, the outrage wasn''t enough.


    "Or perhaps my mother was killed for disappointing the master." Anoa paused. "Perhaps both? Memories are like legends. They shift and change with time."


    "How did you survive?" asked Relma. That was very different from what she''d heard before. Did the stories connect somehow?


    "Elranor helped me escape," said Anoa. "And set me on the path to vengeance.


    "Anyway, I killed that king''s entire family. Well, most of it. And most of his species. I destroyed all records of his existence and burned down everything he''d built. So I am content with how things turned out.


    "My only regret is that I wasn''t able to kill his daughter."


    "Who was she?" asked Relma, not liking this conversation.


    "Harlenorians today know her as Queen Dawn," said Anoa sadly. "You shouldn''t take any more. Remember, you''ll have to carry the rest back."


    Relma nodded. "Right. Thank you."


    She could have made a self-righteous speech about how what Anoa had done was wrong. But she hadn''t lived during those times, so she wasn''t inclined to judge. Besides, it wouldn''t have made a difference.


    As they walked out, however, she felt like she should say something. "Anoa?"


    "Yes," said Anoa.


    "I don''t think you were a very good person in life," said Relma, deciding not to beat around the bush.


    Anoa sighed. "Kings don''t have that luxury."


    For the first time, Relma wondered if she wanted to be King. Then she thought of all that glory and power and decided it would all be worth it.

 Chapter 197 - Four: Burying Treasure

    Anoa disappeared shortly afterward; she didn''t notice when it happened. He did that a lot; it had something to do with being an ascended being. Relma had to walk home on her own after that. As she did, she found that lugging all this treasure was hard. Her hands hurt from the weight of the bags, and they kept bouncing against her back. She was not looking forward to getting home.


    And how was she supposed to explain all this money to Aunt Pan?


    Before she could think about that, Ajax came out of the trees, loping on all fours. It was a habit he fell into when he was excited or running. She had the feeling that he had been watching for a long time, though. How long was an important question?


    Ajax was holding a rabbit with a broken neck in his mouth. His mouth was bloody. "Hello, Relma." His voice was accusing, and he sniffed the air suspiciously.


    "Ajax?" said Relma. "What are you doing here?"


    "Hunting rabbits," said Ajax. "Then I picked up your scent?"


    "Oh, you did," said Relma, shifting the bags of gold to the ground. They hurt her shoulders.


    "Who was with you?" asked Ajax.


    "A friend," said Relma, not wanting to lie.


    "There was someone here. I smelled them," said Ajax. "They smelled like blood and death."


    "Alright, fine, so I was visited by the spirit of Anoa the Bright," said Relma, annoyed. "Now lay off, will you." And then a bag slipped out of her hand and spilled gold all over the ground. Relma kneeled down to begin putting it back in.


    Ajax looked at the bags. "Where did you get all this gold?"


    "Anoa led me to it," said Relma. "It was an ancient cache he had. I want to buy armor so I can participate in the Tournament of Kings while in disguise."


    "You realize Pandora will catch you," said Ajax. "Assuming I don''t report you in the first place." Relma looked at him, feeling a bit irritated. But also confident that no such thing would happen. "I''ve got plans for that. And if you don''t tell anyone about this, I can get you into the Tournament of Kings as well." How was she going to do that?


    Ajax scoffed and wiped the blood from his mouth. "Why would I want to enter something like that?"


    "Well, the Tournament of Kings is going to be where all the best warriors in Harlenor fight it out," said Relma. "If you were to be the winner, it would prove that the brood of Telix is stronger than the others."


    "As if they''d ever allow me in," noted Ajax.


    "You could still get in," said Relma. "All you''d need was some armor."


    "We don''t have your human obsession with shiny things," scoffed Ajax. "We don''t keep gold around, so we can''t buy armor."


    "I''ve got a lot of gold here," said Relma. "I could purchase us both armor. Mine could hide my face, and yours could hide your ears. Then we could enter as foreign knights."


    "Hmmm. And how will you ensure the blacksmith doesn''t report us?" asked Ajax.


    "Would it be so unusual for me to want to make my own armor?" asked Relma.


    "No," admitted Ajax. "But if you also buy me armor, that will raise questions. Also, you need more than a disguise. You also need to prove you are nobility, or you won''t be able to enter the core tournament.


    "And we''ll need a background. Something we can tell other people about who we are and where we come from.


    "Otherwise, you''ll just attract attention."


    "Oh," said Relma. "Um, you seem to have thought this through."


    "Well, I was planning to enter the tournament in my own name in the first place," said Ajax with a shrug.


    "You were?" asked Relma. "But, um, you''re part demon."


    "My Father is the Lord of the Wolven Forest," said Ajax. "Officially. That makes me nobility. They can dislike me for it all they want, but they can''t legally deny me the chance to enter."


    "Oh," said Relma.


    "As for armor, I don''t need it," said Ajax. "I prefer to keep mobile."


    "But that will put you at a huge disadvantage," said Relma. "You should at least get some light armor, right?"


    Ajax shrugged. "Maybe. Either way, it isn''t enough to stop me from telling Pandora what you''ve been up to."


    "Oh," said Relma. How was she supposed to talk her way out of this?


    "Fortunately for you, I like spiting her," said Ajax. "And I like you. So we''ll just pretend as though this didn''t happen.


    "Do you want some of this rabbit?" He motioned with the body. Still red with blood.


    "I um..." Relma wondered how to decline politely. "I don''t like eating meat raw."


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    "Why not?" asked Ajax.


    "I don''t know. We humans just prefer to cook it first," said Relma.


    "How can you know if you don''t like it without ever trying it?" asked Ajax.


    Relma couldn''t say she did know it wasn''t better. She''d never eaten raw meat. "I don''t know. It''s really bloody."


    "Try some," said Ajax.


    Relma really didn''t want to be rude. The meat was a big deal for Telix''s brood. So she reached forward and took the rabbit, drawing it back and looking at it. She wondered if it had suffered. Taking a bit, she struggled to get the flesh off. Pulling away, she chewed on it. The texture was awful, but she kept her distaste from her face as she finished it. She swallowed and gave the rabbit back.


    "How is it?" asked Ajax.


    "I..." Don''t lie. "I think it''s an acquired taste."


    Ajax shrugged. "To each their own. So, where do you plan to hide all this loot? Or do you think Pandora will just not blink at you, showing up with a bag full of gold?"


    "Well, um... I guess we could bury it," tried Relma.


    "Where?" asked Ajax.


    "Uh, how about here?" said Relma, gesturing around.


    "And do you intend to walk all the way here every time you make a withdrawal?" asked Ajax. "Will you be able to remember this location?"


    Relma realized that she would have to walk a long way. And that she probably would need to remember this location. "Oh, right. So, where do you recommend."


    Ajax smiled. "Follow me."


    The wolf boy led her through the trees and into more civilized lands. The bags were heavy, but Ajax helped her with them. Soon Relma realized she recognized the field they were walking in. Eventually, they came to a hillock with a tree growing out. Ajax motioned. "We should bury it beneath this tree here. You do have a shovel, don''t you?"


    "How do you know so much about burying treasure?" asked Relma, not wanting to answer.


    "I''ve buried many things in my time. Now put the bags down and help me dig."


    Relma obeyed and watched as Ajax got on his knees and began digging at the ground. His claws tore through the earth, quickly digging down. Not wanting to be a layabout, she kneeled down and tried to help.


    He looked at her attempts at digging in disgust. "You really are terrible at this; you know that. How do you mortals get anything done with such bad hands."


    "I don''t have a shovel," said Relma.


    "Right, because, of course, all animals need a bit of metal on a stick to make the most basic of actions," said Ajax. "Just forget it; I''ll dig the rest."


    And dig, he did. Relma marveled at how he cleaved through the earth. Before long, he had made a hole large enough to put all the bags into it. Ajax stood and smiled in satisfaction. "Alright. I think that is deep enough. Now put it in, and let''s get to Gel Carn. Before Pandora decides you''re late."


    "Right," said Relma.


    Relma was only too glad to leave the heavy burdens behind. She was less glad when she neared Gel Carn. And even further less glad when they found Pandora waiting for them on the road. Ajax fled.


    "Relma, where have you been?" asked Pandora. "Why is your mouth covered in blood, and why are you covered in dirt."


    "I, um, I had to do some work with my hands," said Relma.


    "And the blood?" asked Pandora.


    Honesty was the best policy. "Okay, fine, " Ajax offered me some raw meat, and I tried it. Then I helped him in digging a hole to hide something."


    "What was it?" asked Pandora.


    "Just some valuables we found," said Relma. "Why does it even matter?"


    Pandora eyed her. "You''ve been spending far too much time with Ajax lately, Relma."


    "He''s not that bad," said Relma. "I mean, I know he kidnapped me once and tried to force me to marry him. But that was months ago, and I wasn''t mistreated or anything. That''s just how his people work. And he''s been much nicer since."


    "The satyrs of the Black Marsh practice ritual cannibalism," said Pandora. "That''s how their people work. It doesn''t make it good behavior. And given that he is a hostage, it is only natural he be nice.


    "I don''t see how any of this makes it a good idea to eat raw meat? You could get sick."


    "I could barely choke it down, honestly," said Relma. "Anyway, animals do it all the time."


    "Yes. But you are not an animal," said Pandora. "Go get yourself cleaned up at once."


    "Yes, Aunt Pan," said Relma. And she walked past. Then she stopped. She felt like she was at a crossroads. Anoa had promised to disguise her, but she didn''t like going behind Aunt Pan''s back. "Aunt Pan?"


    "Yes," said Pan.


    "Would it be okay if I joined the Tournament of Kings in disguise?" asked Relma.


    Pan eyed her carefully. "...Is this going to be one of those things where if I say no, you find a way to enter anyway?"


    "Maybe," said Relma, shifting. She wished Aunt Pan didn''t have such piercing eyes.


    "Why do you want to enter the Tournament of Kings?" asked Pan, putting a hand over her eyes.


    "I want to prove myself and test my skills against real people," said Relma. "I know I''ll probably get knocked out in the first round. But I want to try."


    Pan looked at her. "Very well, then. I''ll arrange a disguise for you."


    Wait, what? "Really?"


    "Yes," said Pan. "But, I do have conditions."


    "What are they?" asked Relma.


    "First, you have to raise the money to pay for armor yourself," said Pan.


    "Okay, that sounds difficult," said Relma. Aunt Pan probably thought that would be an insurmountable hurdle.


    "And second, if you face someone in the tournament who completely outmatches you, you will give up," said Pan. "The ability to know when you are beaten is a virtue that you need to learn. I don''t want any nonsense about powering on through sheer determination."


    "Okay," said Relma.


    "And third, if by some miracle you end up winning the prize money, I will hold onto it until you are of age," said Pan. "It isn''t that I don''t trust you, but having that money on hand makes one a target. If you wish to access it, you may request it, and I will consider giving it to you early."


    This condition didn''t really matter to Relma. It wasn''t like the money mattered to her; she wanted fame. But, this, something was wrong. "Why are you even making these conditions?" she asked. "You know as well as I do that I couldn''t raise the kind of money for armor overnight. Not without help."


    "Of course I do," said Pan. "But I feel I ought to keep all my options open. And if you can get someone to give you the money, that is an accomplishment. I''ll be very impressed, dear. "Speaking of which, you''re not allowed to take any loans to get the armor."


    "This doesn''t seem fair," noted Relma.


    "True. But you''re asking me to help you break the rules," said Aunt Pan. "And taking a loan of that level would be a massive investment that could haunt you for years. So you''ll have to get someone to give you the money, free of charge.


    "I don''t expect you''ll even be able to get past the first step, but if you do, I want to make sure you do something you''ll regret. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Also, I reserve the right to make up new rules as they occur to me."


    "Okay, I agree," said Relma. Of course, this would be much easier with Aunt Pan''s help. Now she just needed to find a way that she already had the money, gently.


    "Good," said Aunt Pan, looking back to her work. "Now get cleaned up, and then you can explain to me where you got the money for armor."


    Okay, this was going to be an awkward conversation. "Yes, Aunt Pan."

 Chapter 198 - Five: Ceremony of Knighthood

    Explanations to Aunt Pan were never fun, but she''d managed to make them. Then she''d spent a restless night counting the hours to Estela''s knighting. Now, at last, it had arrived.


    Within the high-ceilinged throne room, Estela kneeled before Steward Benarus. She wore a beautiful blue cloak around her, far better than her ragged old one. Her armor was repaired and polished, and her dark hair was carefully combed. Relma had never seen anyone look so elegant, she thought to herself. Estela looked like something out of the stained windows all around them. Fit to be displayed in one of the scenes of courage above. Perhaps she would be on one of them someday.


    It was both inspiring and a little scary. And, well, Estela was wonderful...


    "Squire Estela, do you swear to defend the will of Elranor with your shield?" asked Benarus. "That you will act with charity and mercy and defend the innocent from the arrows of hell."


    "I swear," said Estela, face downturned.


    "Do you swear that your sword will be used only against the wicked and the enemies of Harlenor?" asked Benarus. "You will dispense justice with a fair hand and strike only with need."


    "I swear," said Estela.


    "Do you swear to seek perfection in all things and give up your life in pursuit of His will, should he so command it?" asked Benarus.


    "I swear," said Estela.


    Benarus drew the sword and tapped it once on each of Estela''s shoulders. "Then rise a knight, Lady Estela."


    Clapping began in unison as Estela turned to regard the people. Relma was not among the nobility. She had a place on the sidelines with the less important people. Although news of the Heir of Kings had spread far and wide. Public opinion was undecided as to their nature. Later a feast began to celebrate the event. Relma was not one of those attending, at least as a guest. She and the other squires and pages, those that were left, were on serving duty. They were meant to do their job and fade into the background.


    Relma preferred this. Ever since eating that meat, she''d felt a bit sick. Well, a bit was an understatement. She''d been throwing up for several days. And even now, she was feeling a bit queasy. Eating this rich food was not something she would have wanted to do.


    There were all kinds of foods¡ªsome of them from foreign lands. A curry had been brought in from the far east, beyond Calisha, in a place called Dinis. Or, at any rate, that was where the recipe had come from; apparently, alterations had been made. The spices were costly.


    Benarus was putting a great deal into this ceremony, wasn''t he?


    "I wish Ronald were here," she said.


    "Why?" asked Ajax''s voice behind her. "So, he could set the place on fire?"


    Relma looked up to see him in the shadows. Ajax had yet to, technically, be invited. But since he lived at the castle and was the son of a powerful lord, he felt slighted. So Relma didn''t blame him for showing up anyway, as long as he didn''t make a scene.


    Still, his remark was uncalled for. "Ronald only started one forest fire, Ajax. And you were trying to kill us."


    "No, I wasn''t," he said, rolling his eyes.


    "Well, you were trying to capture me and willing to kill the others," said Relma.


    "Why aren''t you congratulating her, anyway?" asked Ajax.


    "I''m a squire. So we''re not supposed to get involved in these celebrations," said Relma.


    "Why?" asked Ajax. "You''re her friend, aren''t you?"


    "Sure, but all these people are important," said Relma. "Lords, knights, Estela''s peers. I''m beneath her station at the moment."


    "The brood of Telix decide for ourselves who is and isn''t important," said Ajax. "Why are they all showing up here?"


    "She is a Princess of Escor," said Relma. "Also, they''ve been gathering for the tournament for a while anyway. So Benarus killed two birds with one stone. I wish Ronald could be here."


    "Where is Ronald anyway?" asked Ajax. "Estela said he would be right behind her."


    So Ajax had been eavesdropping. Had he seen Anoa? Best not to ask. "He and Frederick got delayed chasing bandits. Apparently, a lot of criminal organizations have been weakened, and Sir Frederick wants to take advantage.


    "There is a lot of chaos in the north, over the Black Mountain.


    "He sent a hawk on ahead with the news. I hope he gets back soon. We''ll need Frederick at the Tournament of Kings." She paused. Ajax had tensed and narrowed his eyes as if ready for spring.


    "What is it?"


    "I know that girl," said Ajax, pointing.


    Relma followed his gesture to a noblewoman. Well, actually, she was about Relma''s age. She had a bowl cut of silver hair. She was clad in a red and silver dress. It showed a lot of skin on her thighs and her torso. She was very beautiful, actually.


    "Who is she?" asked Relma.


    "Fayn Lancel," said Ajax. "The niece of Steward Benarus. She often tried hunting in Father''s domain."


    Relma had heard the name before. They were rivals. Fayn was in line to inherit Benarus'' position as Steward. That was if other arrangements weren''t made. Where were her parents? No one else resembled her except Benarus though the resemblance was less than uncanny. Both had thin features, but very little else was in common.


    Relma listened in on the conversation as Fayn spoke to Benarus. "I''m told that you''ve created something of a menagerie in Gel Carn, Uncle," said Fayn. Her voice was the sort of thing that brought to mind ballgowns and petticoats, but harsh and aristocratic.


    "Mengerie?" asked Benarus. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, what with that werewolf hanging about the palace. It seems dangerous," said Fayn, though she was smirking as she said it. Her eye glanced over to where Ajax was. She knew they were here.


    "He is a political hostage, of sorts," said Benarus. "So long as he remains here, it keeps Telix from launching any more ill-fated assaults. I thought it better to keep him out of our company."


    "Ah, yes. I understand the lady of the hour can be thanked for all that," said Fayn. Her gaze shifted to Estela, who seemed pleased.


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    "I was part of the group that found Lightning Trail, yes," said Estela.


    "Well, you must recount the tale," said Fayn. "We''ve heard much of your exploits in Khasmir. But the retrieving of so powerful a weapon bears a retelling."


    Estela did say it. She explained the whole story from the point where she entered it to the raid in the forest. Relma had lived through parts of it before. Everyone listened to it with interest, though. Fayn seemed to be looking for another reason, though.


    "Well, that is quite a story," said Fayn. "Yet, you seem to have downplayed your own role in things."


    "Not really. I was only one part of a great coordinated effort," said Estela, voice guarded. "If anyone had failed, the situation would have been a disaster.


    "In any case, I''m not sure the finding of Lightning Trail is my story."


    "Yes, I suppose credit ought to be awarded to others," said Fayn. "So, where is your comrade Relma? Given her illustrious heritage, I should have thought she would be present for this. "The identity of the Heir of Kings was not well known among the common people. But evidently, Fayn knew it well.


    "Fayn, she is a squire," said Benarus, eyes narrowed. "I didn''t think it appropriate for her to be at the table."


    "Nonsense, is she not the Heir of Kings?" asked Fayn, leaning back. "Surely, her very presence would enlighten us. Let her come forward."


    There were murmurs of agreement. Fayn was undercutting what was meant to be Estela''s moment and putting the focus on Relma. And Fayn probably thought that Relma would embarrass herself.


    This was a ploy to drive a wedge between Relma and Estela. And to make Relma look like a fool. So Relma stayed right where she was in the background until Benarus yielded. "...Very well then, Relma, come forward."


    Relma paused a moment. Then she walked forward slowly, doing her best to look humble and submissive. "I wouldn''t presume to interrupt-"


    "Come forward," said Benarus, voice hard. He obviously didn''t like this any more than Estela.


    Relma approached, and Fayn looked her up and down with a slight smile. "So, do tell us, why was it that Elranor chose you of all those who''ve tried their hand at drawing Lightning Trail?"


    Relma said nothing. She looked at Estela. One of the new knight''s hands was clenched.


    "Speak up?" said Fayn, putting a hand on Relma''s cheek. "I''m sure we''re all dying to know."


    Relma considered her answer. She would look arrogant if she said it was because she was more worthy. If she said that she wasn''t worthy, she would discredit herself. If she said she didn''t know, she would look dense. "I expect it because it fits into his designs."


    "And what designs are those?" asked Fayn.


    If she made a prediction of any kind, she looked arrogant. Even if it was proven right, and if it were proven wrong, she would be discredited. "I would not presume to ask Elranor to tell me more than he deems I need to know."


    "Hmm, so you follow instructions without question," said Fayn. She drew back her hand. "No doubt it endears you to Gail Arengeth?" Chuckles from the others at the table.


    Relma narrowed her eyes. This was too much. "Gail Arengeth wants people to think for themselves."


    Fayn took it in stride, looking predatory. "Well then, let me ask you this; Is the duty of a King to serve the nation? Or the gods?"


    Relma had no answer. And then she did. As if some part of her that had been sleeping now awakened. "A King must render service to both in their own ways."


    "And what ways are those?" asked Fayn.


    Relma remained silent and just looked at Fayn. Fayn looked back. There they stood in silent challenge. This was ridiculous. Fayn would just keep asking these questions until she had no choice but to make a mistake. If Relma said the nation, she was disrespectful of the gods. If she said the gods, she was an out-of-touch fanatic.


    "Well?" asked Fayn, smile widening.


    "...Why are you trying to trap me?" asked Relma, deciding to dispense with the pretenses.


    Fayn stiffened. "You forget your place, squire."


    "My apologies, milady," said Relma with a curtsy of her robes. "But I had thought my place was with the other squires, watching in silent obedience. Was I wrong?"


    Fayn sat back. "You weren''t."


    "Then, with your permission, I will return to my vigil," said Relma before looking to Benarus.


    "Do so at once," said Benarus.


    Relma walked back. Estela looked pleased with the result. Benarus coughed and looked ready to change the subject.


    "At any rate, Estela, I am told that the demon Melchious manifested during the war for Khasmir," said Benarus. "Can you lend any credence to this?"


    "I can confirm that Melchious made an appearance," said Estela. "I saw him from far away, observing the conflict. Unfortunately, there wasn''t much time to see much of anything else. I nearly lost my head to a raishan while I was looking.


    "If it hadn''t been for well...


    "Tanith Telus has her uses on the battlefield. She happened to kill the creature that would have killed me." Saying anything good about Tanith would not be acceptable. If Tanith had saved her, Estela had to downplay it. She probably shouldn''t have brought it up in the first place.


    "I remember how they swarmed up the battlements of Kynn like locusts. It was hard fighting, and a lot of good men died. I heard later that he tasted defeat by the sorceress Rusara. Though something else happened as well, I''ll wager."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Fayn.


    "Well, Duke Vanion''s son William disappeared during the campaign," said Estela. "Some of us figured he was dead. But after he disappeared, the commanders started predicting the enemy''s movements with precision.


    "Then William showed up again out of the blue after the battle and started healing people."


    "What did Melchious look like?" asked Fayn.


    "He was tall, with long blonde hair and very fair features," said Estela. "Though he had a scar over this eye. Right here." She raised a hand and traced it over one eye. "He had the wings of an eagle and held a blood-red axe that pulsed with unholy energy.


    "A few of the other men spoke of a strange black demoness. She was seen flying out of Kynn toward the end of the battle."


    "What do you make of it all?" asked Benarus.


    "I can''t say anything for certain without more information," said Estela. "But I think that Duke Vanion has made contacts among the denizens of hell. And I think that William Gabriel is the one who made them."


    "That''s a grave allegation," noted Benarus.


    "I read his book," admitted Estela. "But the truth is that none of us know what happened in Baltoth''s Retribution. The only witnesses were a demon, William Gabriel, and an elven goddess.


    "They had some kind of alliance against Melchious. Demons often scheme against each other. And it wouldn''t be the first time a Gabriel has made a pact with a demon."


    "If this is so, then we have cause to be uneasy," noted Benarus.


    "Come now." scoffed Fayn. "Vanion is a barbarian lord of Haldren. What concern is it of ours? Sooner or later, he''ll be devoured by the demon, and we''ll have nothing to worry about."


    "Men said the same about his pact with Melchious," noted Benarus. "But by all appearances, he has proved the stronger there."


    "I don''t think you should underestimate Vanion," said Estela. "I spoke with him when I arrived in Artarq. He was courteous and charming and had me believing every word he said. When you talk to him, the gods stop being holy. Demons cease to be wicked. Spirits cease to have any sanctity.


    "He thinks of the gods as powerful kings. And he thinks of demons as lords who can be manipulated like anyone else."


    "What do you think his next move will be?" asked Benarus.


    "I can''t say," admitted Estela. "But I think I know one thing he''ll try for. Vanion prefers to gain power through deals rather than open battle. So I think he''ll try to marry his family into King Andoa''s bloodline."


    "Do you think King Andoa would accept such a deal?" scoffed Fayn.


    "I don''t know. I haven''t met him," said Estela. "But it would be a smart political move. Vanion has holdings in Haldren as well as Antion. So a marriage between House Gabriel and the Royalty of Antion would benefit both.


    "And it would also restore the credibility of the royal family."


    "Restore the credibility?" asked Benarus. "Isn''t that a little presumptuous?"


    "Forgive me, Steward Benarus," said Estela. "I only mean to say that King Andoa is getting old. His son isn''t anywhere near as accomplished. Meanwhile, House Gabriel''s star is in the ascension. Vanion could be an invaluable support to them. And a dangerous enemy."


    "All this is very nice to talk about. But what has it to do with Gel Carn?" asked Fayn.


    Estela gave her a look that said she ought to know this much, and Fayn glared back with daggers. Evidently, she did. "If Duke Vanion sets his family up as royalty, he''ll have a good chance of creating Harlenor Reunited. No doubt in his image. Gel Carn is sworn to submit only to the Heir of Kings when right.


    "We are a natural enemy of his. If I were him, I''d want Gel Carn removed as an independent force."


    "What does it matter how Harlenor Reunited is formed?" asked Fayn. "Whether done by Vanion or some king out of legend, the job will be done either way. So what say you, uncle?"


    Benarus looked to Fayn, then Estela. "...In the end, we must all do Elranor''s will."


    That was a profound non-answer Relma could appreciate.

 Chapter 199 - Six: The Combatants Assemble

    The tournament day was nearly here, and the sky did not have a cloud. A brisk wind kept it from becoming too muggy or unpleasant. Unfortunately, Relma wore armor, so the wind didn''t do her much good. Few things ruined a nice day, like having an inch of steel around your body. And Relma was not the only one. Even now, people signed up, hoping to write their names into history. And Relma was in her armor. Aunt Pan had painted several runes into it as well. These made her appear different.


    Relma wasn''t sure of the details. But now they were heading toward the large pavilion where the combatants would sign up. There was Davian at the front, with a quill and a book. He was looking very bored.


    Ajax got there before them, and Pan pulled Relma behind a tree. She looked at her hard and made eye contact. "Now remember, Relma," said Aunt Pan, "this disguise will help. But you will still have to act the part."


    "Why are you letting me do this, Aunt Pan?" asked Relma. "You could stop me if you wanted."


    "Elranor''s bloodline has a unique trait," said Pan. "They learn weapon skills very quickly. It''s like learning to walk for them; you figure it out very quickly once you get past the basics. It was a gift from the Dragon God, Vrengar, I believe.


    "I''ve seen you practicing."


    "So you think I stand a chance?" asked Relma.


    "No, I think you''ll lose and lose badly," said Pandora. "Special traits are no substitute for experience. But you might learn something from it."


    "What do you mean you won''t let me sign up?" asked Ajax, voice loud.


    "This tournament is for knights," said Davian. "Or, in the case of Dust Elves, official representatives of classless societies. You are neither."


    "I am the son of one of the most powerful demon lords in Harlenor," snarled Ajax. "That makes my nobility. And I am an official representative."


    "Demon Lord is not a title," said Davian, not looking up. "And you are a hostage. The proper paperwork for allowing you to enter has not been filled out."


    Ajax looked about to strike him, but he restrained himself. Pandora quickly began making her way toward them. Relma followed behind. This could be bad.


    "It bloody well is," said Ajax. "And I don''t give a damn about your paperwork."


    The man looked straight past him. Did he want to get his throat ripped out? Apparently so, because he pretended as though Ajax was not there. Then again, Davian had never been afraid of anything that Relma had heard of. "Lady Pandora, what may we do for you?"


    "Why aren''t you allowing him to enter, Davian?" asked Pandora.


    "He isn''t a knight," said Davian. "And the paperwork has not been filled out."


    "Have you considered what it will mean if you deny him entrance?" asked Pandora. "It will be taken as a direct insult to Telix?"


    "I''m insulted he couldn''t be bothered to fill out the appropriate forms," said Davian.


    "Shall I take your response to the Steward?" asked Pandora. "I''m sure he''ll look favorably on an insult to one of his most dangerous neighbors."


    Davian shifted. He looked to Ajax, Pandora then, leaned back. "I see your point, milady." He offered the ink to Ajax. "You can sign in."


    "Thank you," hissed Ajax.


    Ajax did not take the quill. Instead, he bit a finger and smeared blood over the section where he would have put his name. Davian picked up the book, looked at it, put it down, then looked up with narrowed eyes. "What is this?"


    "That is how we sign our names among my people," said Ajax. "The scent of our blood marks it as our signature."


    "This is very irregular," said Davian. "Humans do not have a sense of smell to identify people by scent. It''s traditional to use the seal of your house."


    "My blood is my seal, you miserable-" began Ajax. He halted and sniffed the air.


    "Something wrong, dog?" laughed a voice. "Perhaps you should run back to your mistress?"


    Ajax tensed and turned around to see a vast, stubbled man a little older than Relma standing in the line behind them. It was a short line, but the important thing was how Ajax was walking toward the man. Relma knew that there would be blood in a minute.


    "Enough," said Davian. "The blood counts as a seal in itself. I doubt any of the other contenders will use such a method. But if someone else marks their name with red liquid, we''ll have a problem.


    "Just don''t start killing people until the tournament. And even then, make it an accident."


    Ajax hesitated. Pandora met his gaze, and he nodded. He walked into the pavilion. Relma stepped forward. Davian gave her what might have been a sarcastic look. "Who are you?"


    "I am Raleen Artor," said Relma before drawing out a pendant Aunt Pan had given her. It had the symbol of a roaring lion, scaring away wolves. "Here is my seal."


    Davian took it and smiled wryly. "This is a symbol I have not seen for a very long time. A very long time indeed. Do you know your history, Raleen?"


    "We were a branch house of the royal family long ago," said Relma. "One that was descended from a half-brother of Anoa II, Versinus. He proved himself valorous in battle in the Withering Wars and was awarded nobility." She paused. "Though I don''t see why I should have to recite my own history to you.


    "Am I a child to be lectured?" Put resentment into the voice.


    Davian smiled. "No, of course not. I can see the resemblance. Still, reports suggest that satyrs wiped out the house some years ago."


    "An exaggeration," said Relma, remembering her instructions. "We fell into obscurity long ago, but we''re hoping to make a comeback."


    "Very well, dip it ink this ink and then press it against the page here," said Davian, motioning.


    Relma complied and pressed the seal there. "Like this?"


    Davian nodded, and she pressed the seal down on the page. Before she could take it off, Davian grabbed her hand. "No, no, keep it there for a moment. You don''t want to take it off too quickly, or the ink won''t sink in." He took his hand off. "Alright, then you are set. Go on into the pavilion.


    "Oh, be careful in there. Sometimes knights can get rowdy."


    "Thank you," said Relma. "I''ll be very careful."


    Within the pavilion, there were a large number of tables and chairs. And more people needed to fill them. Things may fill up later. Relma looked around for Estela and saw her speaking with another. It was Edward De Cathe. Relma hadn''t seen him in months.


    She made her way up, noting the coat of arms of house Vortegex. A white dragon, coiling over a defeated red. Was there such a thing as a white dragon? Relma had never heard of one. "Princess Estela, is it? I''m Raleen Artor."


    Estela looked at her, and Relma knew she had guessed who she was. "Artor? I remember that house. I thought it was wiped out a long time ago."


    "An exaggeration," said Relma. "We''ve fallen from grace a bit." How many times would she have to repeat this?


    "Well, Raleen, you are in the wrong place," said Estela, emphasizing the word. "The knights of Gel Carn are over there."


    Relma glanced over and saw an empty area. No one had appeared yet. "Why should there be different places?"


    "I suppose you think that the three Kingdoms are all one big, happy family, then?" asked Estela.


    "No, I just, never mind," said Relma. "So, these are the knights of Escor?" Only two?


    "Yes," said Estela. "Over there are the knights of Antion." She pointed to an area with only two people, the man behind her in the line. He seemed to be speaking with another orange-haired man with a slight smirk. Relma hoped they were the first ones in.


    "Rather pretentious of them to put themselves as their own Kingdom," said De Cathe suddenly.


    "Give them some credit, De Cathe," said Estela. "Gel Carn was the capital of Harlenor United. And they are the hosts."


    "I suppose," said De Cathe. "Is there a particular reason you are pretending to be someone you are not, Relma Artorious?"


    Relma flinched. "Um, politics. How did you-"


    "I knew you by your voice," said De Cathe.


    "Right," said Relma. She was going to have to talk with Aunt Pan about this spell. "I haven''t seen you since, uh, the not war with Telix."


    "Yes," said De Cathe. "After things ended there, I went west to the marshes and fought with the satyrs. Working with the Black Watch was an unpleasant business, but it had to be done. My comrades and I saved a village, though we lost a few of our number.


    "Not that Lord Anias had much regard for our sacrifice. He denied us payment on a technicality."


    "I''m sorry to hear it," said Relma. "Then, the satyrs are resurging?"


    De Cathe smiled. Suddenly Relma felt sorry for the satyrs. "Not anymore. I believe they sensed weakness with the coming war and chose to start raiding again. We convinced them otherwise.


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    "My congratulations on the drawing of the blade, by the way. Where is it?"


    "Oh, it''s here," said Relma, touching her blade. "In disguise. Just don''t tell anyone who I am."


    "Of course," said De Cathe. "I shall remain wholly silent."


    Relma shifted. "So, where are the knights of Haldren?"


    "The knight of Haldren is there," said De Cathe, pointing to another part.


    Relma didn''t see anyone for a moment. Then, eventually, she noticed a tall man sitting cross-legged in a corner. He had a sheathed blade over his knees. His shield bore the emblem of a Golden Cobra, coiled to strike on a red background. She must have missed him before.


    "Only one?" asked Relma.


    "Yes. Varsus. He''s a nephew of Duke Vanion Gabriel." said Estela. "He came here with a knight of Antion, Reginald De Chevlon. Actually, he had a large company of guards. But he insists on being sorted with the knights of Haldren."


    "Why aren''t you there anymore?" asked Relma.


    "Haldren is a long way off," said De Cathe. "They are much nearer to the wars, so most of the knights who want to prove themselves went to Artarq. Also, King Gavin doesn''t acknowledge Gel Carn as legitimate."


    "I know that," said Relma. It had been part of her lessons. "But you''d think someone else would have come."


    "It is still early in the day," noted Estela.


    Wait a minute, where was Ajax? Relma looked around and eventually saw him lying on his back beneath several chairs. His hands were clasped, and he seemed to be thinking. He probably didn''t realize how eccentric he looked.


    "So," said Relma, "is it true that women in Antion aren''t allowed to be knights?"


    "Yes," said De Cathe. "They are expected to take up tasks more associated with peace than war. King Andoa II pushed through one of the reforms in his younger days."


    "Good thing for you; it hasn''t spread to Gel Carn yet," said Estela.


    "Right," said Relma, "do you mind if I wait with you until the others arrive?"


    "It''s no trouble," said Estela.


    The others were few and far between in arriving. One who came was a small, dust-elven man. But he wore a sword nearly as large as he was tall on his back. A bow was also on his back. He made his way into the Antion section and sat down across from the others. The big man Relma had seen mocking Ajax said something to him, but either he did not hear or he did not care.


    "Who is that?" asked Relma.


    "That is Garrick Estov, I believe," said De Cathe. "He''s a Knight of the Coin. They''re a mercenary company based on Sorn. Though the order has a somewhat religious aspect to it as well, and none of them are actually knights."


    "How can none of them be knights?" asked Relma.


    "They don''t have classes in Sorn," said De Cathe. "Not since the revolution. They are ruled by merchants and money, rather than Lords and ideals."


    "Right," said Relma. She shifted. "Where is Sir Frederick? I was looking forward to meeting him and Ronald?"


    "I don''t know," admitted De Cathe.


    "This has been a very small number of knights," noted Estela. "Shouldn''t there be more?"


    "The Steward is lucky he got this many," said De Cathe. "Most of the knights who would come to such an event would be from Antion. Escor is too chaotic for a man to leave his lands for long. And Haldren is otherwise engaged. Besides, the roads in Gel Carn aren''t any good.


    "Anoa II made them well. But he ruled a long time ago. As a result, they''ve fallen into disrepair. So journeying through Southern Antion is difficult."


    "Someone ought to repair them, then, shouldn''t they?" asked Relma. "Wouldn''t that be a better use than tournaments?"


    "Do you think the lords in those regions would let it happen?" asked Estela. "Benarus doesn''t rule Southern Antion. He rules Gel Carn. If it weren''t for all the pilgrims from Estal, this place wouldn''t be nearly as important as it is.


    "No offense."


    "I hope that Benarus expected a small group," said De Cathe, "and prepared for a large one. Otherwise, he is due for some disappointment."


    Relma was drawn away from the conversation to see a black knight entering the pavilion. They had a massive poleaxe on their back, and their helmet concealed their face. They glanced at Relma, then walked on past.


    Then Relma shuddered. She had a feeling, suddenly, that someone significant was on the threshold. She dreaded them, feeling a sort of primal enmity.


    Peering out the tent flap to the pavilion, she saw Davian facing down three figures. The first was a very tall individual. He was clad in white and black armor with a faceplate shaped like a skull. Two glowing green lights could be seen from the eye holes. A pure black sword was at his side, and a round shield was on his back. Yet beneath his crimson cloak, Relma also caught sight of a golden harp. Moreover, his shield was decorated with the same golden cobra as Varsus.


    Beside him was a hulking chimera. It had three heads a golden lion, a white goat, and a black dragon. The lion''s head was licking its chops and regarded the people around them with hunger. However, the armored figure scratched behind its goat ears, and it relaxed.


    Finally, there was a boy. He was tall and thin, though not as tall as the armored figure. His skin was darker than anyone Relma had seen, and his hair was black as night. He had red eyes, pupils thinner than usual, and wore a black cloak.


    "Is this the sign-in area for the Tournament of Kings?" asked the armored figure, his voice a horrible rasp.


    "It is," said Davian.


    "So be it," said the man. "I intend to enter."


    "That is William Gabriel," said Estela.


    "He certainly makes an entrance," said Relma as they walked away from the flap.


    William Gabriel entered with the chimera and the Calishan following in his footsteps. Relma watched as he approached Varsus and stood across from him. Varsus looked up.


    "Varsus? It''s been years since we last saw each other," said William.


    Relma flinched. The contrast between the voice and the words was disturbing. Varsus stood up and looked him over. "You have grown. What injury caused your voice to change so."


    "Oh, this," said William. "Hold on." He drew off his helmet and put it under one arm. Then he spoke. "The helmet is enchanted to make me more intimidating." His voice was now normal, a proud baritone, but without the unholy rasp.


    "The glowing green eyes certainly manage that," said Varsus, smiling a bit. "I wonder if you did not overdo it."


    "It was a gift from Rusara," said William. "I didn''t want to offend her."


    Varsus looked at him. "That scar... how did you get it?"


    What scar? Relma couldn''t see it.


    "I was slashed across the eye by a demoness," said William. "It is a bit of a long story. I''m glad to see you again."


    They embraced warmly, then broke apart. "As am I," said Varsus. "You were six, I believe, when last I met you. You''ve picked up strange company." His eyes looked warily to the Calishan, and Relma''s sense of dread returned.


    "Oh, Felix is quite loyal and reliable," said William. "You don''t need to fear him. We''ve been stopping to heal every village we come across throughout our journey. If he were going to betray me, he''d have done it long ago." He had been looking for an excuse to mention healing people, hadn''t he?


    Varsus shifted. "...You''ll forgive me, cousin. But I was not expecting you here. Duke Vanion gave me leave to represent House Gabriel."


    "And ordinarily, I''d leave it to you," said William. "Unfortunately, I have to fill in for Raynald. He wanted to come here, but he''s needed as a general in Khasmir. There are still raishans about. So he wanted at least one of his students to appear. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I wanted Tanith to go, but it turns out she had a disagreement with the local lords. So that left only me. Mother also wanted to go, but, well, my new siblings need her."


    So he was friends with Tanith. That spoke severely about his character. But he didn''t seem like a bad person.


    "At any rate, there was another reason for me coming down this way," said William. "Father wanted me to deliver some news to Brisgald personally. Auga is to be granted the position of Lord of Carn Gable."


    "Auga?" asked Varsus. "I was under the impression that Uncle was keeping Carn Gable for himself."


    "He was ruling it through Mother," said William. "But now that the entire family is focused on Artarq, he''s decided to make the move official. We need someone over in Carn Gable; we can trust to rule it.


    "Auga is smart and capable. We would have chosen you, but you''re the heir to Brisgald."


    "No offense is taken," said Varsus. "I prefer warmer climates anyway. And my younger sister is well suited for the task." That got a laugh from both of them. "How did Vorn take it?"


    "Badly," said William. "He shouted and yelled about being passed over."


    "That sounds like him," said Varsus. "Still, Uncle has always assigned positions on merit. And Vorn has little of that." He paused for a moment. "I hope you don''t expect an easy victory in the tournament, William."


    "Far from it," said William. "Truth be told, I don''t even expect to win. I''m a good swordsman, but it''s never been my best skill."


    Relma turned her attention to the calishan boy. The boy, Felix, glanced up, and their eyes met. Although she did not know him, she felt like she did. Her gaze met his, and something was passing between them. Relma tried to keep steady beneath his red-eyed gaze, but it was all she could do not to look away.


    Don''t show weakness, said part of her.


    And then the contest was broken. The chimera rubbed against Felix from behind, and the boy looked down to scratch her behind the ears.


    Relma returned to the flap and saw no sign of Frederick. Davian was just sitting there. Relma looked to Estela. "If Frederick doesn''t arrive in time, what then?"


    "Then he doesn''t enter," said Estela. "Not today, anyway. Raleen."


    At that moment, Davian stood. "If anyone remains who wish to sign into the tournament, come forward now. The office is now closing for the day."


    "Come on," said Relma.


    "Set down my name, sir!" said a voice.


    At that moment, Frederick and Ronald rode into sight upon the backs of wolves. The halflings wore dented armor but were no less magnificent as they dismounted. Relma almost ran to greet them.


    "Remember, you''re supposed to not know them," said Ajax.


    "Oh right, thank you, Ajax," said Relma.


    Frederick and Ronald entered, and Relma resisted the urge to go greet them. She didn''t know them. Don''t introduce yourself here; Ronald might say your name.


    "Sir Frederick, we were afraid you would not make it in time," said De Cathe. "This tournament would not have been the same without you here."


    "What, this fool?" scoffed the man who had mocked Ajax. "You expect us to face this red-faced fatling?


    "This is pathetic. First, Gel Carn lets in an animal, and now one of the dirt farmers pretending to be a knight. They really have let their standards fall."


    Frederick stiffened. "I should cut your throat, sir. But I shall save the matter for the tournament."


    "Am I supposed to be impressed?" sneered the man.


    The orange-haired man shifted. "To think I was concerned to be filling in for Raynald here."


    "Don''t bring up that withered carcass to me, Reginald," said the man who had mocked Ajax.


    "Withered carcass?!" asked William. Then he put on his helm and grasped his sword in a fury.


    For a moment, Relma thought there would be a fight. But Varsus caught him by the hand. "Calm yourself, cousin. There is nothing to be gained through bluster here."


    Davian then walked in. "I see you''ve started things in record time. Well, a smaller group than we hoped for. But not smaller than we expected. And there are plenty of others in the other areas of the tournament.


    "Gather around, and I will tell you the basic rules."


    Reluctantly they did so. "Each of you is here to prove your courage before the crowds of Gel Carn. Of course, your motives vary, but all of you will have the chance to win the prize¡ªten thousand silver.


    "Enough to hire a fleet of ships. To purchase virtually anything your heart desires. Or, better still, to make sensible investments in the business. What you desire to do with the coin is your own choice.


    "But first, you must win it.


    "The matches will each be held in the public tourney in the days leading up to the final event. There will also be other tournaments: archery contests, axe throwing, and jousting. You are free to enter any of these, should you so choose. And winning them will make your prize greater still.


    "Bear in mind that there is great danger here. If one of you should be killed in the fighting, it will be considered the end result of a legal duel. You risk your life.


    "However, this does not mean this is a blood sport. Accidents are allowed. Deliberate killing blows are not. Should your opponent be defeated, you are forbidden from killing them. If an opponent says, ''I forfeit'' the fight is over. Any further attacks will be illegal and subject to judgment by Steward Benarus.


    "Likewise, if it is judged that the killing was deliberate, you will suffer the consequence.


    "The events will officially begin three days from now at midday. Be here by then. If you fail to arrive for your match, you forfeit. With those rules out of the way, food has been prepared to welcome you." He motioned. "Follow me."


    "So, who do you think will win this one?" asked Relma.


    "I''m not going to hazard a guess," said Estela.


    Relma wanted more information on this, Felix. There was something odd about him. And since he was always in the shadow of his master, logically, she should try following William.


    This couldn''t end badly.

 Chapter 200 - Seven: The Scarred Boy

    It was a reunion Relma had wanted for a long time now.


    Of course, she had to leap some fences to get it, even at this stage. She''d eat a lovely meal with the other contestants though that man from before kept making snide remarks. Reginald seemed embarrassed by him and tried to reign him in but in a friendly way. He eventually distracted him by turning the subject to women. Their conversation turned to several ''conquests.'' Garrick made conversation with Varsus about the problem of piracy in the Sea of Power. Frederick spoke at length with De Cathe and Estela, speaking of the wars in Escor.


    It seemed as if everyone was at war. And nobody could imagine a world where they weren''t. It troubled Relma.


    The chimera had continually brushed up against William as he spoke with Felix. The two boys seemed to be arguing, but she couldn''t make it out. Relma noted that William spoke to Felix almost as an equal. Just what kind of servant was he?


    And how had he even got in here? Relma supposed there was no rule against pets, but Ronald had been told to wait outside. Then again, nobody seemed to even notice Felix except her. The chimera became increasingly insistent, and even an offer of meat did not get her to stop. Finally, William stood up and slipped out. Felix and the chimera followed.


    Eventually, William slipped out, and Relma took this as her cue to leave. She walked out after him and quickly got out of her armor before fitting it into a bag she''d taken with her. Then, slipping out, she began to follow them; she ran into Ronald.


    That was the reunion, and she forgot at once her pursuit, got to her knees, and hugged him. Then, of course, her bag full of armor bumped him, and he winced in pain.


    "Sorry," said Relma, quickly healing the bruise.


    "What''s in there?" asked Ronald.


    "Just some stuff I''m carrying," said Relma. "Ronald, it''s been months."


    "Sorry I couldn''t meet you earlier; Sir Frederick wanted me to get the wolves denned after our entrance," said Ronald. "Did you see it?" The halfling boy''s voice was hopeful.


    "You mean riding up to the tent at the last minute?" asked Relma. "Yes. Why the entrance anyway?"


    "Well, he wanted to appear fashionably late," said Ronald. "Sir Frederick says it helps to appear impressive when you want to negotiate.


    "So, what are you doing?"


    "Oh, um, I''m following William Gabriel," said Relma. "One of the contestants in the tournament. Do you want to go with me?"


    Ronald followed after her but seemed a bit concerned. "So we finally meet again after months, and the first thing you want to do is stalk one of your enemies?"


    "I''m not stalking him, okay. I just heard he has a scar, but he put the helm back on before I could see it," said Relma. "And he isn''t my enemy."


    "He''s a political rival," said Ronald. "Duke Vanion is one of the most powerful men in Antion of Haldren. Some people say he plans to become a King himself. He can''t do that if you or one of your descendants reunited Harlenor, can he?" He paused.


    Relma looked at him. "Ronald, I''ve never heard you talk about things this way. Did something happen?"


    "During the fighting with the Calishans, I saw things," said Ronald. "It isn''t anything like in the stories Relma. I''m glad we stopped that war. All the demons in the world can keep on living if it means not having a war.


    "And I saw the kind of people Duke Vanion employs."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "When the order went out for the Calishans to be spared, there was a lot of anger," said Ronald. "I remember I saw men raging about how they were supposed not to kill the captured prisoners. They wanted to take their weapons and equipment, and Duke Vanion denied them that.


    "A lot of the knights of Harlenor... they aren''t good people, Relma. And yet they are afraid of Vanion."


    "Afraid?" asked Relma. "Why?"


    "I don''t know," said Ronald. "That''s what scares me. As far as I saw, he followed all the rules of war. He was very reasonable and merciful.


    "But I saw hardened killers stop when someone mentioned Vanion wouldn''t like it. My dad had a saying, "Don''t be afraid of the snake you can see. You can do something about it. It''s the one you can''t see that is the real threat.''" He paused. "Still, I''ll walk with you."


    They made their way through the town as quickly as they could. Relma used some minor spells Aunt Pan had taught her to track William. As they walked, Ronald looked ill at ease. "What does his scar have to do with anything?"


    "Well, Estela said that Melchious had a similar scar," said Relma.


    "Are you saying Melchious and William Gabriel are the same people?" asked Ronald.


    Relma stared at him. "No, I just-" Then she heard a harp sound. The music was sweet and beautiful. Relma had never heard anything so nice. "I hear music."


    They followed it and soon came to a corner. Standing around it, they saw William sitting on a bench, playing hard with ungloved hands. His helm was still on his face. Felix was nowhere to be seen, but the chimera was lying belly up at his feet, basking in the sun.


    "Is that a chimera?" asked Ronald.


    "He has a pet chimera," said Relma. "Didn''t you see it before?"


    "No," said Ronald. "I haven''t even seen him. Estela and I were in different battles."


    "I think you''re asking the wrong questions," said Felix.


    Relma turned around with a shriek and saw the calishan boy emerging from the shadows. His eyes were narrowed. "If you want to ask questions of my master, you might just approach him normally."


    "Who... how did you get there?" asked Ronald.


    "I walked," said Felix, smiling.


    "I know, but... I didn''t even notice you," said Ronald.


    "Not being seen is one of my primary assets," said Felix. "I am Felix, the valet of William Gabriel. We''ve been aware of your clumsy attempts at stealth for some time. If you try and pry information from us, we''d appreciate it if you were less obvious about it."


    "Right, um, I''m going to go talk to him then," said Relma.


    She walked toward William, who had yet to stop playing. As she approached, he ceased his harping and put the instrument down. From there, he removed the helmet, and Relma saw the scar. It was long and ugly and went from his forehead to the middle of one of his cheeks. Whatever had done, it had missed the eye, but it marred his features.


    Features that were very similar to Anoa''s. The resemblance was uncanny.


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    "Yes?" asked William.


    "So, um, what''s his name?" asked Relma, looking to the chimera.


    "She is named Massacre," said William. "I made the same mistake, actually. All chimeras have manes."


    "So, uh, how did you meet?" asked Relma.


    "Well, Felix and I slipped into her cave while running away from satyrs," said William. "When our pursuers started a fire outside, the smoke woke her, and she ate them. Then she tried to eat us, but I calmed her down with music."


    "So she likes music then?" asked Relma.


    "Yes. I''m not sure if it is all chimeras or just her," admitted William.


    "You know, Ronald and I got chased into a cave once," said Relma. "Though we were running from Aunt Pan, not satyrs."


    He blinked. "You mean Pandora the Sorceress?"


    "Yes," said Relma.


    William stood up. "Hmm, interesting. You would be the Heir of Kings then?"


    "You''ve heard of me all the way in Artarq?" asked Relma, hopefully.


    "Not really," admitted William. "Tanith mentioned you in passing, and I learned more as I made my way down here. She described you as, uh..." He raised a hand to his temple in thought. "What was it, Felix?"


    "A weak-willed, spineless puppet of sorcerers. Incapable of any worthwhile achievement, she is doomed to be a figurehead. One swiftly cut down." said Felix. "Or something to that effect."


    "It was very impolite, and I don''t mean to take her word as automatic truth," said William.


    "...That''s a bit more flowery than I thought Tanith capable," said Relma.


    "Carn Gable is one of the greatest libraries in Haldren. She was educated there alongside me," said William. "She is knowledgeable. She just prefers to focus on more martial pursuits. Also, she was drunk, so she wasn''t herself."


    Relma shifted in irritation. And then something occurred to her. "Wait, so nobody is talking about Lightning Trail being drawn?"


    William blinked. "Should we be? Harlenor won''t be reunited because someone drew a sword from the sky. The vast majority of conquerers fail. Their dream of a unified Harlenor usually conflicts with another dream. That of the many feuding nobles who want a disunified Harlenor. Even if they would never admit it."


    "Well then, what would unite Harlenor?" asked Relma, curious.


    William considered things. "...Well, the sword could have worked if an overbearing threat might destroy all Three Kingdoms. Then you might convince them to call a truce and support the man who drew it.


    "Enlightened self-interest would allow the creation of a figurehead. Then, if he proved strong in war and a good administrator, he might well consolidate control. That, I suspect, is how Anoa the Bright managed it."


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Relma. What did he know about Anoa the Bright?


    "I read history," said William. "Things tend to go in cycles, and once you read enough, you begin to notice the patterns."


    Relma decided to change the subject. "So why did you enter the Tournament of Kings?


    "As I said when you were eavesdropping, I am acting in Raynald''s stead," said William. "But in all honesty, I was hoping to meet you."


    Relma paused. "Me? Why?"


    William looked at her. "Isn''t it obvious? You drew Lightning Trail. You also have the support of Gail Arengeth and Pandora. And you have several major accomplishments. Given that Benarus dislikes his current heir, he may cede control to you to spite her. In so doing, he would satisfy both his families'' oath and ensure the succession of the realm."


    "Wow, you figured all that out yourself?" asked Relma.


    "Thank you for confirming my suspicions. And no, I didn''t," said William. "Felix did, though Father probably suspects as much himself. Either way, I wanted to know what kind of person you were. We could end up being political enemies in the future."


    Massacre stood up and peered at her intently. The lion head licked its chops.


    "Bah," said the goat.


    "Erm, I''d rather avoid that," said Relma.


    William shrugged. "Then feel free to renounce your claim to the throne of Harlenor Reunited. Do that, and you don''t have to worry about politics. Otherwise, you should expect to make many enemies."


    Relma was surprised at how candid he was about this. He was a very strange person. "So you went through Brisgald on your way here, correct?"


    "Yes," said William.


    "What''s it like?" asked Relma. She''d heard a lot of stories about Brisgald, the impregnable fortress. It had never been taken. In the days of the elves, a great host of fifty thousand satyrs was said to have besieged it. That had been a host supported by dragons. Generations had passed seeking a way through.


    And in the end, the siege failed.


    Or so the legends said. However, Relma had her doubts about them being truthful. At the very least, they were exaggerated.


    "Quite nice since Duke Borinius was dethroned," said William. "Uncle has continued setting things to the right where Father left off. The villagers are quite happy with House Gabriel in control."


    "Why?" asked Relma, hoping to take him off guard.


    "We lowered taxes," said William. "Borinius taxed them to the hilt, so many starved on bad years. We had to conduct ourselves as something resembling decent human beings. Thus we became known as benevolent lords out of legend.


    "It was all very depressing."


    "Isn''t that where Duke Vanion made his pact with Melchious?" asked Relma.


    William stiffened. "It wasn''t a pact. It was a deal."


    Relma met his gaze. He looked back. "What is the difference between a pact and a deal?"


    William scoffed. "Don''t display your ignorance, Relma. The technical definition is irrelevant. My father made a deal with Melchious, then had second thoughts at the last minute. So he changed his plan, found out Borinius was guilty of treason, and exposed the plot.


    "Much good came from his actions, and Melchious got nothing in return. Father didn''t even owe him anything by the terms of the arrangement."


    "Well, what have we here?" asked a voice. "Some beardless boys playing at being knights?"


    And here they went. Relma turned around and saw a large, stubbled man with a bald head. He was a brute who''d mocked Ajax, just out of armor. He was staggering as if drunk. With him was Reginald, who was following slowly behind, looking resigned. Massacre arose to her feet and growled.


    "Stay your hand, Massacre," said William. "He isn''t worth it."


    "I can''t believe that this tournament has allowed a girl and a harping child into this tournament?" said the brute.


    "We ought to just let this go, Ham," said Reginald.


    "Or what? This damn... Gabriel, wouldn''t dare..." He seemed to lose his train of thought and put one hand on his sword. "I don''t... I don''t like the way they look at me."


    "Tell me, is there a particular reason you are bothering me?" asked William. "Don''t you have any better uses for your time than harassing someone with a chimera for a friend?"


    "You think I''m afraid of that thing? Cause I''m not," choked Ham.


    "Fear is a natural state of being experienced in response to danger," said William. "Overcoming it is courage. Eventually, you do not feel it at all, however. You have my sincerest condolences on your lack of intellect.


    "You must be a very well-trained monkey."


    "Say that again with a blade in your hand!" snarled Ham. And he began to draw his sword.


    At once, Reginald stepped between them. "Wait, wait, wait, we can''t do this!"


    "Oh, I think we can," said William, a slight smile on his face. His hand was on his sword. "I''ve no objection to cutting down a Hawkthorne after my trip." S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Didn''t you people read the rules?" asked Reginald. "Fighting outside of the ring is strictly forbidden. So if either of you strikes the other down now, you''ll be thrown out and get nothing but a reputation as a thug. Win in the ring, though, and you''ll get renown and be on your way to winning riches!"


    William paused, then nodded. "...Fair enough."


    "I''ll..." Ham motioned with one finger. "I''ll see you in the ring." His voice was slurred.


    "Come on, Ham," said Reginald. "You''re making a fool of us."


    As Reginald led the man away, William sat back down. "I sincerely doubt I''ll face that man anywhere. I have a one-in-nine chance, and he won''t make it past the first round. His stance is sloppy."


    "Don''t you remember the roadside?" asked Felix. "He killed an entire caravan of armored men and freed their prisoners. Don''t be too quick to underestimate him. Ham is not to be underestimated."


    "If he intends to remain perpetually drunk, I have no reason to fear him," said William.


    "You were pretty calm for someone about to kill someone," said Relma. And he had been about to kill him. If that chimera had leaped, Ham would have been ripped to shreds. So what had happened on the journey to make William so quick to kill a Hawkthorne? Granted, they had a pretty reputation.


    "Control is essential," said William, pulling on a gauntlet. "As long as you have a clear mind and think rationally, you can find the path to victory. Lose control for a minute, though, and everything falls apart." He pulled on the other one.


    "Does this rational mind of yours tell you to pick fights?" asked Relma. "You provoked him. He was drunk."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Yes, Massacre, we know you wanted to eat him," said William, scratching her behind the ears. "Maybe next time. To answer your question, I would not disgrace my house by yielding ground to Sir Ham Hawkthorne."


    "Hawkthorne?" asked Relma.


    "Yes, the nephew of a fat noble known for never seeing combat," said William. "Baron Vladimir Hawkethorne. Among other things. He does business in whorehouses, and rarely pays his debts. He deals with criminals and vampires to achieve his goals."


    "So you try to keep a rational and clear mind except when your pride demands otherwise?" guessed Relma. "How convenient."


    William bowed dramatically and flourished his cape. "Welcome to the nobility, Relma Artorious." Then he put back on his helmet, and his voice was like death. "I hope you''ll enjoy your stay."

 Chapter 201 - Eight: The Tournament Begins

    The next day the tournament grounds were filled to the brim. People lined the stands, waiting for the coming matches while buying food and drink. Other games were underway, and merchants were selling at the fair.


    The contestants of the Tournament of Kings had been given a special booth. It was to the right of where Steward Benarus sat. There was a staircase leading quickly into the ring, a circle of white stones. Within, there was no grass.


    "Raleen, you''re here," said Estela.


    Relma sat down next to her. "Yes, I am," She looked over the eager crowds. "There are a lot of people here."


    "Well, it is the largest event we''ve had in years," said Estela. "We''re only part of it. But we''re the best part."


    Relma looked at the others. "There are twelve of us here, aren''t there?"


    "Yes," said Estela. "What of it?"


    "Wait," said Relma. "If that number gets cut in half in the first round and again in the second, we''ll end up with three finalists. Who will fight who?"


    "One of the finalists will fight two matches on different days," said Estela. "That''s the tradition, anyway."


    "Have you been to many tournaments?" asked Relma.


    "I''ve been to many of them," said Estela. "Though I haven''t fought in one before now." She loosened her sword in the sheath.


    At that moment, Davian made his appearance. As usual, no one could say where he had come from. Everyone looked at him. He was carrying a box with a hole cut in the top. "Welcome, all of you.


    "Now, before the matches can begin, we will have to perform a ceremony of sorts. Within this box, you will find a series of numbered markers. Each one represents a position in the contest."Come forward and take one, one at a time."


    De Cathe arose and made his way over. Then, reaching in, he removed it and came back. Estela looked on with interest. "De Cathe, what number did you get?"


    "Two," said De Cathe, raising it.


    "Two?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said De Cathe. "I will be in the first round."


    Estela came forward and took hers. She came back and looked at the note she found with narrowed eyes. Then she looked up to De Cathe.


    "How faired you, milady?" asked De Cathe.


    "I got one," said Estela. "I think we''ll be fighting each other in the ring."


    "Then I shall meet you on the field," said De Cathe.


    "Lady Raleen, please step forward," said Davian.


    Relma walked forward. As she did, she prayed she wouldn''t get matched up against Estela. Or Frederick. Or Ajax. Or William Gabriel. The people she might stand a chance of beating in this tournament could be counted on one finger. Technically speaking, she didn''t know if that dust elf or the black knight were any good. But she presumed they were qualified.


    That was more than she was.


    This had been a really bad idea. So she reflected as she reached into the box. The only person here she could see herself beating was Ham. He was just arrogant and stupid enough that he might get sloppy and leave her an opening.


    Reaching into the box, she drew out a note. "Hmm, six." Was that good? No telling; no one had been matched up against six. She''d face the person who picked five. S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    William was next, and he drew out a note.


    "William, what did you get?" asked Relma. Please, not five.


    "Four," said William.


    Thank Elranor.


    "Sir Ajax," said Davian, sarcasm in his tone.


    Ajax stalked forward. His hand darted forward and snatched out a note faster than Relma could follow. He unrolled it and scoffed. "Nine."


    So she wouldn''t be fighting Ajax. Good. The last time she''d tried fighting him, she''d been soundly humiliated. She wasn''t up for a repeat.


    "Sir Garrick Estov," said Davian.


    The Dust Elf then came forward. Drawing out a card, he looked at it. An eyebrow was raised, and one of his ears twitched.


    "Well?" asked Davian.


    "...Ten," said Garrick. He looked to Ajax. "It seems we will face each other in the field. I hope you understand I hold no ill will toward you or your people."


    Ajax smiled in a friendly fashion. "You''re a dead man."


    "Ajax, don''t get carried away," said Raleen. "Remember, accidents are allowed. Intentional killings are not."


    ''Idiot! Lady Raleen doesn''t know Ajax!" snarled a voice inside her.


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    "Don''t worry," said Ajax. "All my opponents will be alive at the end of this tournament."


    "I''m certain they will tell many stories of your defeat," said Garrick.


    "You may bluster later," said Davian. "The crowd awaits. Sir Frederick, come forward."


    Frederick did come forward. He drew out a note. "Seven."


    "Then you''ll be in the second to last bout of the first round," said Davian. "Sir Varsus Gabriel, if you would be so kind?"


    Varsus came forward and drew out yet another note. "Eight. It appears I will face Sir Frederick in the field of battle."


    So far, so good. All of the competent people had yet to be matched up against Relma. So maybe she''d get one round in before being humiliated. Why did she enter this tournament? She was the only squire here!


    "Hawkthorne, come forward," said Davian.


    Hawkthorne drew out a now and smirked unpleasantly as he read it. His eyes leered at Relma. "I got five. I guess I''ll first have to face the girl before I can get to the true challenge."


    Relma tried not to jump for joy. She also tried to look intimidating. She didn''t do a very good job either.


    "Sir, I suggest you conduct yourself with greater respect," said Frederick. "It is the custom in Gel Carn."


    "You," said Davian, pointing to the black knight, "come forward."


    The black knight approached and drew out a card. "Nine."


    "Who are you anyway?" asked Relma.


    "I asked to remain anonymous for my own purposes," said the black knight, voice like death. Though it was feminine after a fashion. "My name is written in the book."


    "Why are you hiding your identity?" asked Relma.


    The black knight gave her what might have been a flat look. Then she turned and walked off without a word.


    "Sir Reginald De Chevlon." said Davian.


    Reginald took out his note and smiled. "Ten. I guess I''m up against a girl as well."


    "Oh, please make judgments about my skills before you fight me," said the black knight. "It will be more satisfying when I hack off your limbs. Then I''ll rub the open wounds with salt and have my way with your wife as you slowly bleed out."


    Wait, was that Tanith? No, it couldn''t be. It was a Tanith thing to say, but she was too short and slight of frame. Reginald put a hand to his sword. "You-"


    "Ahem," said Davian. "That leaves Sir Gabriel facing our last contestant."


    "And where is he?" asked William. "I haven''t seen him anywhere."


    "He didn''t arrive at the last minute like everyone else," said Davian. "He was punctual, arriving at the first hour of the first day. He declined to attend the feast and has been watching from near Steward Benarus."


    "Is there any reason he can''t sit with the rest of us?" asked William.


    "None whatsoever," said Davian with a smile. "Now, the first three matches will take place today. Then, when they have finished, we will adjourn for the day and allow other competitions to occur. "While none of you who aren''t fighting are obligated to remain here, I suggest you stay to see the competition."


    Ajax turned. "Well, that counts me out of things. I''m going to go get something to eat."


    "Oh, come on, Ajax," said Relma. "You''ll miss my fight." So why was she even bothering with the disguise? And why was no one calling her on it? They couldn''t be this blind.


    "I''ll be back in time for it," said Ajax. "I want to take a look around this fair. There are a lot of things to smell."


    Relma sighed. "Sir Frederick, are you staying?"


    "I will be watching from the sidelines with Ronald," said Frederick, motioning. "There are some friends I want to meet with. Old comrades who didn''t enter the tournament."


    "Of course," said Relma.


    She looked to where Ronald was waiting for his master. She wished she could have spoken with him before the match. But he was always busy with his duties. Looking at the ring, she saw Davian take center stage. "


    "The first fight is about to begin. Lady Estela and Edward De Cathe step forward to the ring." Estela nodded to Relma, then walked forward with De Cathe. The crowd went wild as they took positions facing one another. Their hands were set to their swords, and their faces impassive.


    "Nobles and commoners! Knights and ladies! Welcome to the first round of the Tournament of Kings!" cried Davian. "Here, we will weed out the weak from the strong until only the noblest remain to go on to the true event!


    "For our first match, we have a Princes of Escor from the venerable House Vortegex! One of the three who retrieved the sword Lightning Trail! A valiant warrior who returned alive from the nightmarish Khasmir campaign!


    "I give you, Lady Estela Vortegex!"


    "Isn''t this a bit dramatic?" asked Relma, of no one in particular.


    "This is the way of things, milady," said Varsus. "The crowd enjoys it."


    "From the other side, we have another veteran of the Islands of Power!" said Davian. "A warrior who has fought on land, on the sea, and in the depth of the Black Marshes themselves! Edward De Cathe!" And Davian backed away.


    "Well," said Relma, "now we get to the fight."


    "Well, in theory," said Reginald.


    De Cathe drew his sword and flourished it in a sign of respect. "In the name of Escor, I salute you, Princess Estela."


    Estela returned the salute in a movement that perfectly mirrored De Cathe''s. Then they went at it, swords flashing in the sunlight as they fought back and forth. Their footwork was quick. They were soon circling each other with their blades singing. Estela struck with swiftly, while De Cathe was methodical in his parries. Yet De Cathe did not seem to be attacking very rapidly, or at all, really.


    "This is against tradition," said Reginald. "You''re supposed to mock each other and talk about how worthless the other one is."


    The crowd was cheering now. Relma listened and hoped they would cheer like that for her match. She''d hate to be a letdown. "They certainly seem to be evenly matched."


    "Hmm, it appears that way," said Varsus. "But I don''t believe it. De Cathe is utilizing a great deal of footwork here. Leaving Estela to make all the offensives. He may be trying to tire her out." Relma looked closer and saw he was right. Estela was the one making most of the moves. But soon, she pulled back and quietly overtook the field. They were still circling each other. But they were looking for weaknesses, not attacking.


    "It looks like she has caught on, though," said Reginald. "This could be anyone''s game."


    Then the battle continued in earnest.


    "You''re wrong, Reginald," said Varsus. "The fight is already over."


    "What do you mean?" asked Reginald.


    "Haven''t you noticed that they are deliberately avoiding strikes?" asked Varsus. "This fight is more about spectacle. Both are attempting to stall."


    "To what end?" asked Relma.


    "Spectacle, obviously," said William.


    Then, suddenly, De Cathe made a clumsy lunge. Estela caught it with her own blade, and with a twist of her sword, she sent the blade spinning to the ground. Her blade was at De Cathe''s throat, and the man raised his hands and fell to his knees in defeat. Estela picked up De Cathe''s sword, offered it to him, and helped him.


    The crowd went wild.


    "...You have bested me, Princess Estela," said De Cathe. "You are true of the line of Vortegex. Therefore, I will not contest you any further."


    "A bit of good fortune for me," said Estela. "Nothing more."


    "Of course," said De Cathe, nodding respectfully.


    "Yes!" cheered Relma.


    Estela saluted the crowd before turning and walking back to the stand. Relma ran to meet her. But Estela''s face was furious.


    "Estela, you won!" said Relma, hugging her.


    "Hardly," scoffed Estela, sitting down and huffing her cloak around her. "He threw the fight out of loyalty. If he defeated me on stage, it would humiliate my house.


    "This wasn''t a real victory."


    "Oh," said Relma. "Well, there is always next time, I guess. Whose second?"


    "William against a knight of Antion," said Davian, appearing suddenly as usual. "Sir William Gabriel, Sir Joseph Korlac, your time has come."


    Who was Joseph Korlac?

 Chapter 202 - Nine: William and Korlac

    Joseph Korlac walked out from the stand. He drew a gleaming white sword and threw aside his black cloak as he did. Beneath was shining mail. His hair was dark and long, and his eyes gray. He was a tall man, though not much older than William. He wore armor that glinted in the sun and had a long black cloak around him, which he shed as he stepped into the ring.


    William stood silent, his weather-beaten and crimson cloak still in the wind. They looked at one another in silent challenge. Relma wondered what they were thinking of and who his opponent was?


    "Who is this Joseph Korlac?" asked Relma.


    "The son of a powerful Lord of Eastern Antion," said Reginald, bringing back a tray full of food and drink. He sat down and passed some to each of them. "He shares borders with the realm of Sorn, and his family is one of the richest. They are rivals with the Gabriels."


    "They''re a bunch of stuck-up prigs," snapped Hawkthorne as he came forward. He munched on a chicken leg and drank beer like a starving man. "They think they''re better than the Hawkthornes. All just because of a couple of their ancestors. We founded the Kingdom of Escor and get no respect for it."


    "I expect they think they are better because of the present state of your house," said Varsus. "And you didn''t find Escor; you founded a completely different nation in the Fairy Hills. Which is now part of Escor."


    "You shut your mouth, or I''ll do it for you," snapped Hawkthorne.


    "By all means-" began Varsus.


    "Can we not start a fight in the stands?" asked Reginald, munching on some chicken leg and drinking beer. "I don''t want to make a scene."


    Hawkthorne looked down. "...Right, sorry, Reginald." He drew out a flask and drank from it before sitting down.


    "I haven''t heard much about these Korlacs?" said Relma, sipping her drink.


    "If you must know, House Korlac is a very old and venerable family," said Varsus. "They have vast tracts of land and provide much of King Andoa''s armies. Although recently, they''ve been shut out of politics because of certain factions. Corrupt officials tend to be paranoid about those who zealously enforce the law.


    "They dwell on the critical borders with the nation of Sorn and stayed loyal when they seceded. Now House Gabriel is growing in power and threatening to take that from them. Nobles never give up anything easily."


    "I know what William has done," said Relma. "But what sorts of things has Joseph done?"


    "Not much. Not in war, I gather," said Varsus. "But that isn''t his specialty.


    "He is a very firm supporter of law and managed to shut down a large ring of smugglers. Several rings. Also, root out most of the bandit gangs in his dominions."


    Finally, Korlac spoke, voice polite. "William Gabriel, I have heard stories of your valor upon the battlefield. It is my great honor to fight against so well-documented a foe on this field." Well-documented? Was that a compliment? "Your exploits have ensured the flow of malas into many lands legally."


    "Korlac is almost hunting malas peddlers," said Reginald. "The House believes it shouldn''t be sold at all. Though he missed a shipment recently. I heard rumors that the Sorcerer''s Guild has people selling it in it."


    "Written word passes away while deeds remain forever," said William. His voice held an edge. "And much news has come to me of your deeds as much as my own. But, no doubt, the footpads and thieves must cower at the mention of your name. Their knives and handaxes are nothing before the noose.


    "Though I wonder if perhaps you find such lightly armored fair, poor sport."


    "Ouch," said Reginald.


    "A poor sport for a knight, but one in which all can be of service," said Korlac. "I take more pride in my successes at sea. Unfortunately, I gather your luck has been less good in that fashion."


    "Far from it," said William. "For luck, good and ill, is defined by what you make of it. And I have made much of poor fortune. While you have gained much through many blessings bestowed on you."


    "These two really hate each other," said Relma. Though it was good dialogue, she wondered if they''d rehearsed it.


    "There is a saying that one is given the fortune which one shares with the world," said Korlac. The crowd cheered.


    "I should not recite sayings which you have not put to the test," said William. "But enough of this; let us understand why we are here."


    "So be it," said Korlac.


    William drew his sword. And then it was like he was someone else entirely. He roared and charged forward with eyes flaring and shield raised. Obviously, Korlac was surprised, and the older noble was forced to yield ground. The crowds cheered as William''s sword clipped Korlac''s helm.


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    The noble fell backward, and his helm fell from his head. His dark hair fell out as he rolled away from William''s strikes. Then, rising quickly, he struggled to get up as William loomed over him, shield raised.


    "Stand up, Sir Korlac.," said William.


    Korlac rose with a stab upwards, and William stepped backward beneath his attacks. William ducked and weaved, nearing the edge of the ring. As he reached it, he slid to a halt and brought around his shield to bash against Korlac. The force of the blow sent Korlac reeling, and he was forced onto the defensive again.


    They stepped in circles, slashing and bashing in a vicious fight. Then, at last, they separated, breathing heavily. William''s flaming eyes blaze a bit less as Korlac held his ground. The dark-haired man''s arm was shaking.


    Then they rushed at each other. For a moment, they were closing, their cloaks flowing behind them in the morning light. Blade and blade were surging for a mark. Both swords caught the light, and there was a blinding flash.


    Relma shielded her eyes from it as the crowd did, and the two had passed one another. William was turning, but Korlac was more nimble.


    Korlac slammed his sword down onto William''s shoulder. The boy fell to one knee and reeled back, catching himself on the one hand with a cry of pain. Then, blindly, he stabbed Korlac. There were sparks, and his blade was driven straight through Korlac''s mail. Korlac gasped, blood pouring from his mouth.


    William drew out his blade and fell to one knee. He struggled to stand, blood leaking from his mail. Korlac collapsed to his knees, clutching his stomach. His black sword fell from his grasp, and he suddenly lunged forward.


    Setting his hands on Korlac''s shoulder, there was a flash of light. Then William fell to one knee and drew off his helmet to reveal his face. Korlac''s stomach wound had healed.


    Silence fell over the crowd as the two nobles looked at each other. Then, finally, the two rose, picking up their blades. "I apologize, Sir Korlac," said William. "I was too aggressive in my assault."


    "I was not expecting it," admitted Korlac, holding his broken armor.


    "That was the purpose," said William with a wince. "You broke my shoulder."


    "I''ve never been injured like that before. It''ll stay with me," said Korlac.


    "Good," said William. "Pain is how we learn."


    And then they kept on fighting. The crowd cheered as the combat continued, and William and Korlac continued to duel. Relma began to pick out differences. Korlac seemed to use the flow of combat to propel him, while William was always aggressive. At first glance, they seemed equally matched.


    But William was stronger. His blows always seemed to land harder. Even so, he gave up several chances to knock him flat.


    "This fight is over," said Varsus.


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "They''re stalling," said Reginald. "Filling out the fight. The audience has come here to see a battle. Not a real fight.


    "Real fights are over quickly."


    "Yeah, especially when you fight Ajax," said Relma in agreement.


    The cheers continued as the two of them dragged it on. William repeatedly slammed Korlac''s shield until the shield bent and broke. How strong was he? He wasn''t even all that older than her.


    William shed his shield in a dramatic gesture that sent the crowd wild. The two held their blades two-handed and clashed against one another. Korlac was driven back before slipping to one knee and striking William''s leg. Gabriel knocked the sword out of Korlac''s hand, then put a blade to Korlac''s throat.


    "Yield," said William.


    Korlac arose, raising his hand in good humor. "Consider me yielded."


    William offered him a hand, and Korlac clasped it. The two shook, then turned to return to their places. They paused only to pick up their weapons as Davian proclaimed the victory.


    "So what would happen if someone beat another fighter very quickly?" asked Relma.


    "It would be a violation of courtesy," said Varsus. "Potentially a grave insult. Letting the other side seem like they stood a chance is a tradition.


    "Even if they didn''t."


    "So you''re supposed to avoid winning as long as possible?" said Relma.


    "Yes," said Reginald. "The real trick is making it clear you could have won any time." This was complicated, wasn''t it? Relma wondered if she shouldn''t have done more research on the traditions. She''d never been to a tourney before.


    Relma broke off and went to greet William as he came up the steps. He had his battered shield slung over his back and helmet under one arm. He looked exhausted. "Sir Gabriel, congratulations," said Relma.


    "Thank you," said William, walking past. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Relma followed after him. He''d used healing magic earlier. That must have been the power he got from Elranor. But she couldn''t heal a broken shoulder and be impaled without breaking a sweat. "So, uh, that was a really aggressive attack."


    William grasped a skin and opened it before pouring water into his mouth. Then he pulled it down and stopped it. "I was trained by Raynald De Chevlon. He can''t use a shield, so his fighting style is about the offense. Of course, I learned other fighting styles, but I felt an aggressive one would be best."


    "It took me by surprise," said Relma.


    "That was the idea," said William. "Put forth the image of a refined gentleman, then reveal me as a berserker."


    "Is that why you wear the skull armor?" asked Relma, not putting any sarcasm into her voice. "Even though you''re a paladin."


    "There is never a circumstance where surprise cannot provide an advantage," said William. "You just need to find it. Unfortunately, I learned that the hard way in Khasmir."


    "The circumstance or the advantage?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said William.


    "Interesting philosophy." said another voice.


    They looked up to see Joseph Korlac approaching. "My father taught me that deception is ultimately a poison. Men who gain a momentary advantage through wicked means may triumph for a day. But the very nature of their acts infects them, leading to their ultimate destruction."


    "Deception is not an inherent evil," said William. "It may be used for evil. But when a man runs for his life from murderers, is it a good deed to point them in his direction?"


    "I suppose it depends on the man''s nature," said Korlac. "I admit, I wasn''t expecting to win here. I was hoping to get past the first round, however."


    "That''s about all I''m hoping for," noted Relma.


    William sighed. "I was hoping that in my first battle, I''d prove valiant and win a great victory. Instead, I cringed and nearly lost my life. The only decent thing I did during the battle was to leap into the sea to save a friend."


    "How old were you?" asked Relma.


    "Fourteen," said William.


    "Right, of course; you are nearly sixteen now, aren''t you?" asked Korlac.


    "Yes," said William. "Though happily for some of those I saved on the road, not quite. Why do you ask?"


    "No particular reason," said Korlac. "To have become a knight at so young an age is an impressive feat. I''m surprised I never heard of your knighting." But wait, Korlac was just a little older than William? Maybe a year.


    "Yes," said William. "And news rarely travels quickly when one does not make a scene."


    "Would Lady Raleen and Sir Hawkthorne come forward," said Davian. "Your match is about to begin."Relma nodded and walked over to Davian. She looked to Estela nervously, who raised a hand¡ªwishing her good luck.


    Relma was going to win this.

 Chapter 203 - Ten: Relmas Match

    The ring looked very different as Relma walked into it.


    Yes, on the surface, it was all the same. But something about it struck her as she walked past the smooth white stones. She heard the crowds cheering and looked to where Ham was eyeing her contemptuously. The sun beat down far harder than usual on her armor, and she heard her breathe in the helmet.


    They took their places. And Relma knew she was not going to let the crowd down. She''d give them a show if nothing else.


    "People of Harlenor!" cried Davian. "Our next match in this tournament is between two warriors of new blood. I give you a relative novice of rising skill, Lady Raleen of House Artorious! She''s here with plans to prove herself! And in the other corner, Sir Ham Hawkthorne has no intention of letting this young girl show him up!


    "But who will emerge victorious?!


    "Only time will tell!"


    "Where are Frederick and Ronald?" wondered Relma.


    "I''m in a good mood," said Ham. "So, I''ll give you one chance to back out."


    "That''s somewhat ill-advised," noted Relma, trying to talk like William. "Because we''re the weakest people in this tournament. I mean, everyone else here has combat experience. I haven''t heard of any accomplishments on your part."


    She''d gotten under his skin, and Ham drew his sword. "How many merchant vessels have you seized?" snarled Ham.


    "Okay, I admit. Unfortunately, you have helped prey on defenseless merchants," said Relma.


    The crowd laughed. Relma felt a bit guilty. And then she felt less guilty when Ham tried to cut her head off. She barely warded off his strikes with her shield and staggered back.


    He unleashed a flurry of blows. Each one seemed like it had the force of a mountain behind it. All Relma could wonder was how their voices carried out to the stands. It was magic. This was challenging. Her muscles were burning. She hadn''t managed to get her shield out, and Ham made every attack harder to deflect than the last.


    She felt detached from herself. Like she was a passenger in her flesh, her attachment faded more and more as she stumbled backward and landed. Where were Ronald and Frederick? She glimpsed them out of the corner of her eye. Then she saw Ham raising his sword with rage across his face. Relma reflected that if he killed her, he''d be disqualified. She''d better dodge. And dodge she did, rolling aside as his blade sank into the dirt. She rose to her feet and drew her sword. As he dislodged his blade, she slashed at him. He blocked it with his shield, and she was driven backward. But this time, she had better control.


    "Come on, Raleen, keep your head!" called Ronald.


    She was keeping her head. She needed to find out if she was in it. As she stepped aside, she thought. "You can respond. You can do this. Just keep moving. Keep parrying; he''ll tire."


    Ham was attacking her in a fury. He struck again and again. She was having difficulty keeping up. Still, she wasn''t using as much energy, even if her arm felt numb from blocking all these strikes.


    "This isn''t fighting with sticks, you impudent bitch!" roared Ham.


    He was angry, wasn''t he? Still, he seemed to be regaining control of himself. He was slowing down a bit and letting her get some distance. Relma lowered her shield and looked at him beneath her helmet.


    "Come on, girl, why don''t you just give up?" he hissed.


    "Why don''t you?" asked Relma.


    And then it began again. Ham attacked and attacked, and Relma defended. And as they did, Relma realized that the crowd was losing interest. They didn''t come here to see someone gradually worn down. They came here to see a fight.


    She could ignore them. But she''d much prefer to put on a show. Still, if she attacked, Ham would win. He was very good at attacking.


    So maybe she should make a mistake.


    She fell to one knee as he made a downward stroke. Then, catching it on her shield, she slashed at his armored legs. Ham leaped into the air to dodge the motion, which gave her an opening. Relma rushed forward and slammed her shield into him, sending him sprawling to the ground. His sword was flung from his hand.


    Relma realized she could attack him while he was down. So he did the same to her. But instead, she made her way over to the fallen sword, picked it up by the blade, and offered it to him.


    "Stand up," said Relma.


    Ham took the blade. And then he threw dust in her eyes. Relma staggered back. She got as far as possible but felt something smash against her helm. She was thrown back and landed hard. Then, as her eyes cleared, she raised her shield to block Ham''s strikes.


    He hit her repeatedly, and her arm was in agony from the blows. Her shield was battered and dented. Then the boos from the crowd reached Ham, who halted and stepped backward. Relma stood up.


    "You''ll pay for that," hissed Ham.


    "For letting you get back on your feet?" asked Relma.


    "For humiliating me," said Ham.


    And then he surged forward. But, even as he did, he fell to one knee and struck at her legs. Relma backed away, but the blow glanced off her leg armor, and she winced in pain. And then the fight went on. But Relma''s leg was hurting.


    She couldn''t keep this up forever.


    Why hadn''t she just put her sword to his throat and been done with it? She''d have won then. However, this made her look much better. And there were worse ways to be knocked out of a tournament.


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    Her knee gave out, and she hit the ground in exhaustion. Her lungs were burning, and her heart was racing. And Ham was taking the time to gloat. "This is it for you, brat."


    Relma threw herself forward and grabbed him by the legs. Ham fell forward and hit the ground. As he toppled over, Relma got up and turned around. Ham had lost his grip on his sword again. He was scrambling through the dirt to get it.


    Relma closed the distance as a walk and put one foot on the blade. Ham glared up, then rose and drew out a dagger. In one move, Relma knocked it from his hand. Her sword was now at his throat.


    She must have looked very good.


    "The match is over!" proclaimed Davian, and the people cheered. "Sir Hawkthorne has been disarmed, and Raleen''s sword is at his throat! The match is finished, and Raleen has won!"


    "Damn it, a girl won''t beat me!" hissed Ham. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But Davian put a hand on his shoulder. "Sir Ham, the fight is over. Any further combat is meaningless."


    Relma turned away and looked at the people cheering. They were cheering for her. She raised her sword in salute to them, trying to keep the smile from her face.


    Then there was a roar. Turning around, Relma saw Ham coming at her, broadsword in hand. There was no time to respond.


    And then Ajax was between them. His hand caught Ham''s arm in hand, and he smiled. Then Ham screamed as his wrist was crushed.


    Ajax raised a leg and kicked Ham in the chest, reeling him. Ham landed on the ground, and the wolf demon was on him, crushing his other arm beneath his leg. Then Ajax began to slash and beat him violently, smiling the entire time.


    "Ajax! Stop! Stop it!" cried Relma, grabbing him and trying to pull him back.


    Ajax stepped back. Ham was a broken and bloodied mess on the ground. With that kind of injury, no healer alive could fix him completely. His throat was cut, and he was bleeding. She stared at Ajax. "Ajax, that wasn''t necessary."


    Ajax shrugged. "He came at you with a sword and broke the rules. I saw an opportunity to cut his throat, and I took it."


    Relma looked away. "So do I."


    She kneeled by Ham and set her hands on him. Then, channeling the power of Elranor, she tried to heal him. First, she went for his throat. She felt her body tighten as she mended his throat. He wasn''t in danger of dying, but he was still severely injured.


    She tried to heal his broken bones. There were so many of them. But she couldn''t; it was taking everything she could...


    And then, William was there. "Lady Raleen, are you all right?"


    "I''ve healed the worst wounds," said Relma. "But he''ll need more, more..."


    And then William set his hand to Ham''s brow. Instantly, the wounds mended. The bones knitted, and his breath returned to normal. Ham was no longer injured at all. Merely unconscious. William stood up, not even a bit tired.


    Relma stared in awe. "How did you do that?"


    "I practice healing the sick and injured every day," said William with a shrug. "And I have a talent for it."


    Why hadn''t Relma thought of that? If she spent her time practicing healing people, she could have healed Ham. Instead, she felt a bit guilty. She shouldn''t have to rely on other people for this.


    Even so, she walked back to the stand and was met by Estela. "Nicely done, Relma. You have gotten a lot better."


    "Well, Aunt Pan always said I learn quickly," said Relma. "Do you think she was watching?"


    "How should I know?" asked Estela. "Anyway, most of the others have gone off by now. You were healing Ham for a long time."


    "Did Reginald ask after him?" asked Relma.


    "He muttered ''idiot'' under his breath and walked off," said Estela. "I suspect he''ll shun him socially after this."


    "I feel a bit sorry for Ham," said Relma.


    "You''re joking," said Estela.


    "His insecurities are going to cause him serious problems," said Relma. "And he didn''t hurt me."


    "He tried to kill you," said Estela.


    "And failed," said Relma.


    And then she felt that feeling of dread. It had not appeared. It had merely hidden and now was letting itself be known. Relma looked up and saw Felix leaning in the shadows. His eyes were hidden beneath his hair, and his black cloak shrouded his entire body. "Hmm, so Lady Raleen has a personal connection to Pandora. She calls her the same name as the Heir of Kings and is about the same height and weight. I wonder what the connection is?"


    "You... you''re that Calishan slave who''s always skulking about Gabriel," said Estela. "What do you want?"


    Felix looked up, smiling. And somehow more intimidating than his normal expression. It was like he was wearing a mask; his true nature showed through this wide smirk. "Duke Vanion doesn''t keep slaves. He pays servants. House Gabriel understands well that a man who is motivated by fear is not a loyal one.


    "And I suggest you speak with a degree more care."


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "Well, if a squire were to enter the tournament in disguise, someone might reveal the fact," said Felix. "And if it was revealed, they would naturally be disqualified.


    "Relma Artorious."


    Okay, so he was blackmailing her. "...What do you want?" asked Relma.


    "Nothing," said Felix. "I intend to tell William who you are, of course, but I expect he already knows. He isn''t nearly as foolish as he appears.


    "If he asks me for my advice, I will naturally suggest we let the matter pass. But, doubtless, he will do the same."


    "Because he''s not a knight, you mean?" said Estela.


    His smile stiffened. "You are quick to make assumptions."


    "It isn''t an assumption. A direct family member can''t knight you," said Estela. "That was in the code of Anoa. It''s why knights always go far in the field to prove themselves. William was sent back to Arsheen as soon as the battle was over.


    "And I didn''t hear anything about a knighting.


    "If Relma gets disqualified from this tournament, your master will follow."


    "If I meant to get you disqualified, I should not have approached you in the first place," said Felix. "I am suggesting that you be more careful in the future.


    "Good day." And he turned to walk away.


    Estela relaxed visibly. "...He is right. You really should be more careful, Relma. How will you even explain things when it comes time to take your helmet off?"


    "That''s part of the plan," said Relma. "See, if I lose the tournament, who I am doesn''t matter. But if I win it, I''ll be able to reveal myself. It''ll make me famous."


    "Fame can be a bad thing, you know. It attracts jealous rivals," said Estela.


    "Well, yes, but it will show Fayn I''m qualified," said Relma.


    "Well, that would be nice to show her up," said Estela. "Unfortunately, you''ll have to defeat me to get there, and I don''t intend to lose." She turned away. "Come on, follow me."


    "Where to?" asked Relma.


    "I''m going to the archery contest," said Estela. "I''ll see if I can win it."


    "Archery? Estela, you''ll be going up against Dust Elves," said Relma.


    "I know," said Estela, voice keen. "Ever since elves were included in things, no human has ever scored higher than third place. So I''m hoping to beat them at their own game."


    "I didn''t even know you were an archer. Well, more than anyone else," said Relma.


    "House Vortegex specializes in archery," said Estela. "Now, let''s get out of this armor and find Ronald. There won''t be more duels for the rest of the day, so let''s make the most of it."

 Chapter 204 - Eleven: Contest of Wills

    Hours later, an arrow shot straight and true from a singing bow. It plunged into the red on the target, and the crowds cheered. None of the other members of the competition had done nearly so well. Estela smiled triumphantly.


    "Estela is doing well in the contest, isn''t she?" said Ronald as another contestant was disqualified.


    "She''s gotten similar points to elven champions," said Relma, feeling awed despite herself.


    On and on, the cheers went. This was the first time in decades that anyone had beaten the elves at their own game. Andoa II legalizing the participation of elves had seen them dominating the sport. Now a human was in the last three.


    "The crowd certainly seems to like her," said Relma. Then she looked to Garrick Estov. He was now one of two remaining rivals. Every shot Estela had taken had been in the red. The same was true of Garrick. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    So it was no surprise when the other elf, a high elf named Everest, was finally defeated. He''d been dispatched by Queen Dawn and had dominated before now. Relma felt sorry for him as he walked off the field. But she knew she shouldn''t; not everyone could win.


    But she did.


    At least Everest would be getting a third-place prize.


    "Who is that anyway?" asked Ronald, pointing to Garrick. He''d gotten in late, just in time for the finals.


    "That one?" asked Relma. "His name is Garrick. He was in the tournament stands."


    "Why didn''t I see him then?" asked Relma.


    "Dust Elves are very good at remaining unseen," said Aunt Pan where she was sitting a bit away. She was knitting, pausing only every now and then to look up. "It''s their great virtue."


    "So this Garrick, is he any good?" asked Ronald. "At sword fighting, I mean."


    "Well, he wields a sword as larger as he is tall," said Aunt Pan. "I have not seen him in action. However, I am told he is a mercenary of some renown in Sorn. He isn''t a knight, of course, although he is a member of an order of knights. Though knighthood doesn''t exist in Sorn.


    "It''s complicated."


    Relma blinked. "Now hang on a moment, I had to" She paused. "I mean, if a human or halfling who wasn''t a knight wanted to get in, they would have to get a magical disguise or something. So why should this Garrick be able to enter?"


    Aunt Pan shrugged. "Dust Elves don''t have a feudal system. They are a meritocracy. Though they pay for it with cutthroat politics.


    "Since they don''t have knights, there is an honorary system so they can be represented."


    "Honorary system?" asked Relma.


    "Sir Frederick says the Dust Elven communities are given special rules. They elect someone to represent them in tournaments," said Ronald. "As long as they have proof that they are such a representative, they can get in."


    "Why not just tell them to knight somebody and follow the rules," muttered Relma.


    "Does that not apply to you as well?" asked Aunt Pan.


    Relma paused. "Oh. Um... a good point. Actually, uh, Estela and Edward De Cathe saw right through my disguise. There might be some kind of weakness to people I know."


    "Don''t be foolish," said Aunt Pan. "I didn''t bother casting a spell."


    Relma blinked. "Why not?"


    "Never use magic when a proper conversation will do, dear," said Aunt Pan. "I simply went to Steward Benarus and explained the situation. I then talked to Edward De Cathe and Estela, who I knew would be joining, and told them not to make a scene of it.


    "Everyone else at the tournament doesn''t know you to begin with. So unless they met you as Relma, there would be no way to connect the fact."


    "But why would Steward Benarus allow it?" asked Relma.


    "Because it is a good plan," said Aunt Pan. "And I convinced him as such. If he ever hands things over to you, you''ll have to be popular. And nobles respect skill at arms. This is a way to demonstrate both."


    "But what if I wasn''t ready?" asked Relma. "I mean, I''ve only had a few months of training."


    "You have an unfair advantage," said Pan. "That''s why I''m hoping you''ll lose. Defeat is educational."


    "Thanks for the vote of confidence," said Relma. "You didn''t answer my question about why we can''t just get a lord to knight them."


    "When a lord knights someone, it gives them a sort of claim over that person," said Aunt Pan. "Nothing official, but there is an unspoken obligation. Dust Elves don''t like being obligated to anyone. Have you ever heard of Arraxia?"


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    "No, who was she?" asked Relma.


    "One of the most horrific murderers ever," said Ronald. "Escor tried to exert authority over her people. In response, she started the Escorian Civil War."


    "Don''t be foolish, Ronald," said Aunt Pan. "The Escorian Civil War would have happened anyway. It was only a question of when and how."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "It is complicated," said Aunt Pan. "The line of Escorian Kings had been discredited in a series of defeats. Both from the Viokins from the north and the Barabassians to the west. Individual noble houses had gained more and more power. Many of these noble houses wanted to become king.


    "Father and I spent years trying to patch things up. For a moment, we even thought things might work out. The friendship of Rundas De Chevlon, Erik Gabriel, and Malca Vortegex was our great hope."


    "You mean Erik the Voyager?" asked Relma, having heard the name.


    "Yes," said Aunt Pan. "At the time, the Gabriel family was unimportant, and Rundas was a rebellious teenager. Malca was his oldest friend. They had many adventures and traveled across the entire world. Stories are told of them in lands thousands of miles away.


    "Eventually, they returned in glory. Rundas De Chevlon became the head of the family, while Erik and Malca founded their own houses. They became very close."


    "So what happened?" asked Relma.


    "Well, my hope was that Rundas would marry one of his daughters into the Royal House," said Aunt Pan. "Unfortunately, King Valence Tirius III hated the De Chevlon''s passionately. But he had no son. So he offered Erik a political marriage instead.


    "Erik took the marriage and was set to become King of Escor.


    "Unfortunately, Valence also tried to force the Dust Elves into the fold. They resisted. Violently. The De Chevlon''s took the Dust Elves'' side, and so began the Escorian Civil War.


    "Oh, and there was something about a vampire conspiracy battling werewolves. Or something to that effect. Honestly, it didn''t seem very important to me. Father was the one who dealt with that part of things. Though I gather House Vortegex disagreed with my assessment. At least they used it to justify their betrayal of the De Chevlons."


    Relma blinked. Why would vampires and werewolves be unimportant? "That''s all very complicated."


    "You''d best learn to follow all this, dear," said Aunt Pan. "If you ever rule anything, you''ll soon learn that Kings have to deal with this kind of conspiracy all the time."


    "Quiet!" said Ronald. "The final round is happening."


    Estela and Garrick walked out onto the field. Taking their place before the targets, they strung their bows and took stances. Then Garrick looked to Estela. "You are remarkably skilled for a human."


    "We Vortegex''s have a passion for archery," said Estela proudly. "And I have a talent."


    "Then, by all means, take the first shot," said Garrick.


    Estela bowed, then drew her arrow. Setting it to her bow, she hesitated for only a moment. Then he drew back and loosed with a twang. The arrow shot swiftly and surely and struck the target dead center. Relma arose and cheered. The crowd cheered with her. Estela leaped.


    "Yes!" cried Estela. "A perfect bullseye! There is no beating that!"


    "I shouldn''t count your eggs before they hatch," said Garrick.


    "He''s just blustering," said Ronald. "What is he going to do? Split the arrow in half?"


    "Don''t be foolish," said Aunt Pan. "That isn''t possible. Not with a normal bow and arrow, anyway. There isn''t enough surface area on an arrow for the point to imbed itself; the momentum would make it bounce off. Besides, the archery contest is determined by points. So he need only do something more impressive than what Estela has done on his own target."


    "Tell me, Lady Estela," said Garrick. "Would you mind if I did something creative with my target?"


    Estela looked at him oddly, then shrugged. "By all means."


    Garrick walked into the place and drew out a cloth of dark fabric. The crowd was silent, waiting on edge. The only sound was a bird chirping in a tree, just beyond the target range. Garrick wrapped the black cloth around his eyes.


    "What is he doing?" asked Relma.


    "Tying a blindfold around his eyes, I would guess," said Aunt Pan.


    Garrick secured the blindfold. Then, drawing an arrow back on his bow, he fired. The arrow shot straight and true and landed dead center on his target. The crowd went wild with endless cheering. Garrick removed his blindfold and allowed himself a small smile.


    Estela stared. "...How did you do that?"


    "I have very keen ears," said Garrick. "A bird was chirping on that tree over there." He motioned. "I listened for it and used the sound to aim my shot." He paused. "Don''t stop on my account. By all means, take your second shot."


    Estela looked around. This was bad. Estela had to do something awe-inspiring to beat that. And even if Estela did the same feat as Garrick, it would be less impressive. She looked to a servant. "You! Get me twenty axes which can hang from walls, now!"


    They waited as the request was obeyed. Relma shifted nervously as Estela received her axes. Taking them, she set them up, one by one, planting each one in a perfect line. A line leading to another target. Each one had a ring from which it would be hung from a wall.


    "What is Estela up to now?" asked Relma.


    Estela looked around. "I''m going to shoot this arrow through all of the rings in these axes."


    "A challenging shot," noted Garrick. "Are you sure you aren''t setting yourself up for failure?"


    "I know what I''m doing," said Estela.


    She drew an arrow and pulled it back. For a long moment, she held the arrow in place. A bead of sweat fell down her brow. She blinked it away. Then she launched.


    The arrow was launched. It went clean through every ring and struck the target dead center. Deafening cheers went up throughout the stands. It went on for minutes, and Estela smiled before bowing.


    Garrick nodded. "...Well done; I admit I haven''t met a human with your skills in some time. Still, there remains a yet more impressive feat to make. It would be impossible to make it more difficult, of course. Not without planning, we have no time for it.


    "So why don''t we up the stakes.


    "Rusun, come forward." He said to the stands.


    Out of the stands walked a elven dust boy. He looked about Relma''s age, which meant he was much older. They were each holding an apple. Walking to the target, they lined up, and each balanced an apple on their head.


    Garrick set an arrow to his bow.


    "What are you doing?" asked Estela.


    "This is my friend and associate," said Garrick. "And my nephew. He has come to this place to meet me alongside his parents, who dwell in the Dusk Lands to the East. I am going to shoot an apple from his head.


    "Stand still."


    "You''re insane," said Estela. "What if you hit him?"


    Garrick looked at her blankly. "Then I will be emotionally affected for a time."


    "This is going too far," said Estela.


    "Ah, perhaps it has. But I mean to win this tournament," said Garrick. "Rusun has risked life and limb in contests of arms before. This is but one more."


    "He''s family," said Estela.


    "Yes. Yes, he is," said Garrick.


    He drew back his bow and fired in an instant. The arrow shot straight through the apple and pinned it to the target. Even larger cheers came. The crowd was screaming itself hoarse. Garrick turned to Estela. "Now, would you care to match my gamble?"


    "Gamble?" asked Estela. "You just shot an arrow over the head of your nephew."


    "I know," said Garrick. "You and I are now both subject to the law of escalation. You scored a perfect bullseye, necessitating my use of the blindfold. I made the shot, requiring you to use the axe handles. So now we have gone from cloth and metal to flesh and blood.


    "If you cannot contest me in this, you need only fire a shot, and the contest is over.


    "Or, you can call forward someone very dear to you and hope they heed the call. And trust in your skill that they will not be harmed.


    "Make your choice."


    Estela remained silent. If she didn''t do just that, she''d lose the contest. Estela hated losing at anything. She drew an arrow and set it to her bow. Lining it on target, she pulled back.


    Then she lowed the bow and looked to the crowd. "...Relma, come forward."


    Relma stopped. She didn''t like the idea of standing before a target. She knew Estela was a good shot, but what if she missed? But if she stayed here, she''d humiliate Estela.


    "Don''t do it. Relma. You could get hurt." said Ronald.


    "Estela will lose if I don''t," said Relma.


    "She could lose anyway, and if she does, you could die!" said Ronald.


    "Stay where you are, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "This is absurd. The contest should have never gone this far. I will not let you get hurt for the sake of Estela winning-"


    Relma was not listening anymore. She was the last Heir of Kings. Until she had children or killed Baltoth, she could not die. Right, right, so Estela couldn''t miss her. That was what Relma told herself as she walked forward.


    She reached Garrick, who drew out one of the red fruit. "You may use this."


    Relma took it and walked in front of a target. She did her best to balance the fruit on her head, but it took several times. Her hands were shaking. She was afraid, and once again, she felt detached.


    Estela drew back her bow. "Stay still, Relma."


    "I recommend firing quickly," said Garrick. "Hold your shot too long, and your hand may shake."


    Estela held the bow in place. Her hands were shaking, but she steadied them. For a moment more, she held it, aiming. Then there was the twang of a bowstring, and Relma felt a piercing sensation in her chest.


    She reeled backward, the apple falling from her head. An arrow was sticking out of her, and her eyes were dark...


    "Relma!" she heard Estela scream. And then it was over.

 Chapter 205 - Twelve: A Matter of the Heart

    Relma woke up. The pain in her stomach was dulled, and she could see a fire smoldering over in the corner. A window was open high above in the wall from which light was streaming down, and she was warm. And she didn''t have an arrow sticking out of her, so that was good. Unless the white covers were hiding the fact. Gradually her vision focused on Aunt Pan, knitting by her bedside. She shifted


    Aunt Pan looked up. "Relma? You''re awake, thank goodness."


    "Aunt Pan, what happened?" asked Relma.


    "Estela shot you in the heart," said Pan. "Don''t worry. It was entirely accidental. You lost a lot of blood before I got to you. Fortunately, you should make a full recovery." She drew out a flask. "Drink this."


    Relma took it, feeling faint. "What is it?"


    "It should restore the blood you lost," said Pan. "I''ve had to feed it to you myself before now." Relma unstoppered it and drank deeply. Immediately she felt like she would choke. But she managed to get the bitter drink down. "It tastes awful."


    Pan smiled. "Get used to it, dear. If you are going to fight in the next round, you''ll need to restore your health."


    "So, who won the archery contest?" asked Relma.


    "Garrick," said Pan, lips thinning. "After Estela''s rather dramatic miss, she was awarded second place. You should have never gone out there."


    "If I hadn''t, Estela would have been humiliated," said Relma.


    "She should never have accepted the challenge in the first place," said Pan.


    Relma thought about things. "Was that even legal?"


    "Yes, actually. Everyone involved knew the risks involved, and it was a trick shot," said Aunt Pan. "So Benarus allowed it."


    Relma finished drinking it down. Then she passed it back to Aunt Pan. Benarus had been allowing a lot of things, hadn''t he? He''d seemed so reasonable before now, but Relma was having doubts. Letting Ajax into the tournament was one thing. Looking the other way at Relma''s disguise was helpful. But that contest ought to have been halted before it got that far.


    Why had Relma agreed to that? "Where is Estela?"


    "She''s spent much time by your bedside," said Aunt Pan. "But now, she is practicing with her sword for the next round."


    "I''m going to go see her," said Relma, sitting up.


    But Aunt Pan pushed her back down. "You will do no such thing. Wait here, and I''ll get her."


    She stood, and Relma felt the ache in her chest. "Aunt Pan, why does my chest still hurt."


    "Healing wounds with magic requires a deep connection with the spirit," said Aunt Pan. "If your spirit has been injured, the healing magic will leave something behind. A pain, perhaps a scar.


    "Most warriors pick them up as they go. Some have made a science of trying to find out what the source of scars is. The idea is to help with healing them.


    "The source is always something within the person. Not without."


    "Well, why should I hurt now?" asked Relma. "All I did was get shot with an arrow."


    "Ask yourself that question, and you may find the answer," said Aunt Pan. "As far as I know, it may have to do with being called out in the first place. I''ll get Estela." And she walked to the door.


    "Aunt Pan?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan glanced back. "Yes?"


    "Why do you think William Gabriel has that scar on his eye?" asked Relma. "I mean, it''s pretty gruesome, isn''t it?"


    "I expect it is a result of wounded pride," said Aunt Pan.


    "Wounded pride?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said Aunt Pan. "Scars on the face are usually connected to pride in some way. One''s over-the-eyes deal with our perception of the world. Since the scar did not touch his eye, it indicates that his vision was not damaged by it. Merely altered.


    "My guess is that his pride or self-image was gravely wounded somehow. This led to a change in his perception of the world."


    "Well, what does a shot in the heart represent?" asked Relma.


    "The heart generally deals with friendship, love, and affection," said Pan. "Scars there generally represent a hurt dealt to you by one very close. A personal betrayal, for instance."


    "Estela didn''t betray me," noted Relma.


    "True," said Aunt Pan. "Which is why there isn''t a scar. But she did accidentally nearly kill you."I''ll get her now."


    And she walked out.


    Estela came in a few minutes later. Her head hung low as she sat down. Her hands were clasped.


    "Estela..." began Relma.


    "Relma, are you alright?" asked Estela.


    "Yes, I''m fine," said Relma. "I... why did you miss?"


    "I didn''t mean to!" said Estela. "I mean... I... I shouldn''t have called you out there. But I just kept thinking about how De Cathe forfeit and how I didn''t really earn the victory. And then I remembered when Fayn called you up, and I just...


    "I became angry. I thought that after that night, you owed me, so I called you up. I told myself that even if I missed, I would probably only wing you."


    "Estela, don''t worry," said Relma. "I forgive you.


    "I didn''t mean to steal the spotlight anyway. On the other hand, I probably did owe you."


    "But don''t you understand?" asked Estela. "What if I had been nearer the mark? My arrow could have caught you in the head or the eye.


    "Damn Garrick, to hell!"


    "Well, maybe you could beat him in the arena," said Relma.


    "One can only hope," said Estela with a sigh. "I hope that bastard makes it into the final rounds so I can crush him myself."


    "Speaking of which, how long have I been asleep?" asked Relma.


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    "A couple of hours," said Estela.


    "Where are Ajax and Ronald?" asked Relma. "I thought they''d be here?" S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, Ronald came to visit earlier," said Estela. "But the wolf demon has disappeared. Nobody knows where he''s gone."


    "That''s not like him," said Relma. "If he doesn''t return by tomorrow, he''ll miss his match."


    "I think his match is the day after tomorrow, actually," said Estela.


    "Oh, really?" asked Relma. Then she noticed something. "Hey, the pain is gone."


    Estela blinked. "Pain?"


    "Nothing, never mind," said Relma. Then something occurred to her. "Hey Estela, I''ve been wondering about something."


    "What is it?" asked Estela.


    "You mentioned a while back that House Vortegex betrayed House De Chevlon. It was because of vampires, wasn''t it?" said Relma. "What is that all about?"


    "Oh, well, um, the first thing you should know is that there are a lot of different stories about it," said Estela. The story goes that House De Chevlon is actually just a front for a clan of vampires. See, when a member of House De Chevlon proves themselves worthy, they get turned into a vampire. Usually, after they have produced an heir.


    "Then, when they really should have started aging, they fake their own death. Then the next in line takes over."


    "That sounds weird," said Relma.


    "Well, the De Chevlon''s do tend to die young," said Estela. "Usually after proving themselves. Though Raynald De Chevlon has proved himself a thousand times over, he hasn''t died young."


    "So why did House Vortegex betray them?" asked Relma.


    "Well, vampires are mortals who have been infused with the power of Withering, a sort of-" began Estela.


    "-a formless entity of malice behind all undead." Relma finished. "I know, Estela, I''ve been reading in the library."


    "Right, right," said Estela. "Well, anyway, the way the story goes, the head of my house was invited into the fold. They wanted to turn him into a vampire and do the same to House Vortegex.


    "He pretended to accept. But then left written instructions to his family explaining the whole thing. House Vortegex was honor-bound to destroy the vampires. So we had to prevent them from gaining control of Escor."


    "That''s uh..." Relma looked for a polite word.


    "Silly?" said Estela. "I know."


    "Actually, it was a bit more complicated than that," said Aunt Pan, returning.


    "I thought you had business to take care of?" asked Estela.


    "I finished it more quickly than expected," said Aunt Pan with a sigh. "Some people are coming here, as well. Unfortunately, it seems a great many attendees were running late."


    "What do you mean, ''it was a bit more complicated than that?''" asked Estela.


    "Well, at the time, House Vortegex had been entrusted with keeping the Heir of Kings safe," said Aunt Pan. "A nice young girl named Rusca.


    "The vampires in charge of House De Chevlon wanted to turn her into one of them.


    "Vampires can''t have children. So by infecting Rusca, they hoped that one of their own would rule over Harlenor Reunited."


    "So the vampires were real?" asked Relma.


    "Were real?" asked Aunt Pan. "Far from it, they are real, and one of their chief agents is coming here to Gel Carn. The Baroness De Chevlon herself."


    Time passed quickly as other tournament events went by. Soon they were back in the stands, and Relma was eavesdropping.


    For a vampire, Baroness Saphra De Chevlon was awfully tan with long, lustrous black hair. She wore black boots and a long dark dress that clung to her substantial curves. Her face was covered by a veil, and she wore heavy gloves. She was also only a few years older than Relma, at most.


    Steward Benarus greeted her as she came before him. But he seemed on edge as she bowed politely. The tournament''s second round was about to begin, and she had just arrived. Relma was not, technically, supposed to be here. But she wanted to see the Baroness, so she had snuck close to Steward''s entourage.


    "Baroness Saphra De Chevlon, you honor us with your presence," said Steward Benarus. "However, I expected you some days ago. Was there trouble on the road?"


    Saphra curtsied. "I apologize, Steward Benarus. But, unfortunately, some important matters came up. I corresponded with some of my allies, and I had to wait for their response."


    "Understandable, of course," said Benarus. "The opening rounds have only just begun. Would you care to watch them with us?"


    "Of course," said Saphra.


    "I have prepared a shaded area so that it will not hinder your complexion," said Benarus. He motioned to an area of the stands conveniently some ways away. Several of the courtiers looked on in relief.


    "You are far too kind," said Saphra. "However, if I must be separate from the rest, I prefer to sit over there." She motioned to where the competitors were standing. "I am curious to meet some of those participating in the tournament."


    "Is that wise?" asked Benarus. "There is a half-demon among them. And there is a great deal of sun in that area."


    "You needn''t fear," said Saphra. "The weakness to sunlight that happens to my family as we age."


    "Of course," said Benarus.


    Relma quickly returned to her designated area, sat down, and tried to look inconspicuous. Saphra arrived and sat down in one corner, then, drawing out some thread and needles, began to knit.


    "Weakness to sunlight, milady?" asked William, helm on.


    "An ailment that has claimed many of my family young," said Saphra. "I must ask that you pardon me."


    "Interesting," said William. "You see, I was taught swordplay by Raynald De Chevlon, and he never demonstrated any such weakness."


    "Raynald is somewhat eccentric," said Saphra. "The gods blessed him with resistance in exchange for his unfortunate disability.


    "Unless you believe all those stories about vampirism. Then it makes a different kind of sense."


    "Of course, it would," said William. "Why did you feel the need to mention it?"


    "It rather hangs on one''s mind," said Saphra. "I''m put in the position of having to purchase the slaves they drink the blood from. But, unfortunately, animal blood doesn''t do it, so we must use more advanced species."


    "I thought you said you weren''t involved in an elaborate conspiracy," said Relma.


    Saphra looked at her flatly. "You caught me, of course. I have nothing to do with the purchase of slaves. In fact, I''m a part of the abolitionist movement." She looked back at William. "Your father attended a few of our meetings."


    William eyed her in surprise. "He did?"


    "Oh yes, there was a charming exposition on the Sornian sugar plantations," said Saphra. "How children are scalded alive by the work they do. Not to mention how those in the mines are treated. For example, did you know that when a miner slave gets too weak to work, they don''t tend to his illness?


    "No, they knock his head in and throw him in a pit. If he''s lucky.


    "And that''s not even going into the slave ships. Hundreds of living, thinking human beings crowded into tiny cells. When one gets sick, they hurl them over into the sea."


    "That seems somewhat unprofitable," said William.


    Relma was stunned. "Is that really the reaction a paladin should have?"


    "Of course not," said William. "I am not fond of slavery, having had friends subjected to it. But if I were a slave trader, I''d want as much cargo as possible to get into port. That would make more money. Also, keeping fewer slaves in good health means you wouldn''t lose as many. So you purchase fewer and gain a greater profit.


    "Why not just have a priest on board to tend to them?"


    "Miracle workers are a novelty. They generally have a conscience if they are any good at healing," said Saphra. "I suppose you could pay one, but let me ask you this. How many trips on board a slave ship carrying sentient beings could you stand? How long before you helped them stage a mutiny?"


    "I''m not sure," admitted William. "But I was under the impression that priests of Coinfurth are obligated to help anyone who pays them."


    "True," admitted Saphra. "But they are also obligated not to help anyone who doesn''t pay them. Coinfurth feels that if you don''t pay for something, you don''t value it. So they are also specifically forbidden from healing torture victims. Well, on behalf of the torturers, anyway.


    "See, healing is a product of sorts. And people are entitled to refuse a gift. So if a torturer wants to heal someone they''ve been working on, they must get that person''s consent. Unless they are a slave, then it counts as repairing the property.


    "And believe me, the conditions are torturous in the realm of slaveholders. It''s hilarious." Her tone held the first note of emotion, genuine amusement.


    "You consider the horrific conditions sentient creatures are subjected to amusing?" asked William.


    "Of course," said Saphra. "What is comedy if not laughing at the pain of others?"


    "There is such a thing as poor taste," noted William.


    "Taste is subjective," said Saphra. "And I have no such luxury anyway."


    How was William able to pretend as if he didn''t have a problem with it? Saphra seemed to be eyeing him in irritation. William simply remained silent. They knew one another quite well.


    "Milady, is there a reason you decided to grace me with your presence?" asked William suddenly.


    "Well, I was hoping to put you off," admitted Saphra. "I judge you to be sensitive and compassion."


    "Complete with skull armor?" asked William.


    "Yes, exactly," said Saphra.


    William sighed. "One of my oldest friends used to kill squirrels and left them in my bed as a prank. After that, she had a collection of innocent forest creatures killed for revenge on Laevian. And I''ve seen far worse things than any of that. It will take far more than that to put me off."


    "Good to know," said Saphra, drawing up her fan


    William paused, wrestling with some curiosity. "Out of curiosity, why did my Father not keep up his association with the abolitionists?"


    "Well, he is a great leader of men," said Saphra. "Warriors who conquer a place want to loot it. So they take people as slaves and use them or sell them. It is one of the great joys of war, I''m told.


    "Naturally being opposed to taking slaves might be an... unpopular quality among the men. Or so I assume."


    "Of course," said William. "Perhaps-"


    "Shut up," said Estela. "The match is starting."


    "Hmm, so it is," said Saphra.


    Relma would be glad to see Ajax win this.

 Chapter 206 - Thirteen: Wolf Vs. Wind

    Relma turned her attention to the field as Davian came forward. It was Ajax and Garrick up now, and she was looking forward to the match. "My friends! Today in the ring before you are two beings of an exotic and foreign nature! They are two feral powers that have no equal in savagery or ruthlessness! On the one side, the stoic winner of the archery contest, wielding a sword as long as he is tall, I give you Garrick Estov! A Knight of the Coin!"


    Garrick came forward to thunderous applause. He held his massive sword in one hand, as of yet unsheathed. Then he drew it out and spun it around one-handed before finally taking a stance.


    Cheers echoed ever higher. Obviously, they were looking forward to seeing the fight as well.


    "Go, Garrick!" someone yelled.


    "Victory for the wolves of Telix," said someone else.


    "And in the other, a mix of wolf and demon, a fiend that stalks the forests. One who nearly brought death to the Heir of Kings herself!" said Davian. "Ajax!"


    No one came forward. Relma shifted. "Where is he?"


    And then Ajax sprang over the stands and landed on one knee before Garrick. His head was bowed, and a brown cloak was flowing about him, which was quickly thrown aside. Cheers came as well, but there were also some boos.


    People still remember the recent conflict.


    "Well, that was needlessly dramatic," said Estela.


    "They''re booing him," noted Saphra.


    "Go Ajax!" called Relma, running to the edge. "Crush him!"


    Ajax glanced up and smiled. Relma smiled back, then turned to see everyone glaring at her.


    "What? Garrick''s a jerk. He got m- a perfectly innocent young girl shot in the chest!"


    "Yes," said Estela. "That''s why I want him to win. I want to crush him myself."


    For a moment, silence reigned between Garrick and Ajax. Finally, the wolf boy rose to his feet and drew his sword. He was clad in light armor of lighter. Garrick, likewise, was dressed in heavy black leather. The dust elf began to circle him, and Ajax did the same.


    "This will be a new experience for me. I have never fought a demon before," said Garrick.


    "I haven''t fought a dust elf," said Ajax. "Tell me, are you planning to swing that weapon? Or is it just for show?"


    "Oh, true enough, this blade would be rather cumbersome. If it were ordinary," admitted Garrick, lowering it. "But, it is not."


    And then Garrick surged forward with lightning speed. He unleashed a flurry of blows, any one of which could split a man in half. With each strike, there was a sound like thunder. But Ajax ducked and weaved, hardly seeming to move as they fought. Finally, they separated.


    "He''s fast with that, isn''t he," said Estela.


    "Ajax is keeping up with him fine, though," said Relma.


    Finally, Garrick made a wide swing. Ajax ducked under it and charged, throwing aside his sword.


    "I''ll start slow, dust elf!"


    And then he punched Garrick across the face. The elf rolled with the punch but was sent staggering backward as Ajax slashed at him with his claws. Garrick recovered, only to find Ajax behind him, bringing around a roundhouse kick.


    Garrick was sent tumbling through the dirt. Yet even as he slowed to a halt, he rose to his feet. Ajax pivoted on his feet, claws and fangs bared. "What''s the matter, mortal?! Can''t you keep up?!"


    "Your concern is unnecessary," said Garrick, blood dripping from his face.


    "Concern?!" laughed Ajax. "Don''t flatter yourself! You''re boring me!"


    He charged and left behind a wave of dirt kicked up by his onslaught. But Garrick brought around his sword. Ajax moved to dodge, but the elf redirected the blade in mid-motion and came from another away.


    Ajax backflipped away, clawing Garrick across the cheek before landing. A sweat drip went down his brow, and he wiped it away.


    "You make far too much use of acrobatics," said Garrick. "You neglect your footing."


    "And you don''t make enough," said Ajax, grinning widely. "You can swing that sword around all day, but it will never connect with me."


    Garrick raised his sword. And on it was a single lock of silver hair. Ajax felt his head and then clenched his fists in rage.


    The wolf demon surged forward, and there was a flurry of blows. Then Garrick was kicked in the back and landed hard. Ajax landed on one leg and waited for him to get up. Boos came from the crowd.


    "Hey, quiet!" said Relma. "Ajax hasn''t done anything to deserve that!"


    "Stop wasting your time. He''s a rival power and part demon," said William. "They''ll boo if they want to."


    "Garrick hasn''t been taking this seriously yet," said Felix.


    "Come off it," said Saphra. "You always take combat seriously. Even if it is just a tournament."


    "Garrick hasn''t been trying to pursue Ajax when he drives him off," said Felix. "He''s reasonably intelligent. So he has probably calculated that pursuing Ajax won''t work for him."


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "Well, extending the duel as long as possible is traditional," said William. "He might be trying to tire him."


    "Perhaps," said Felix. "But there is something more to this."


    The fight, which had been continuing, came to a halt. Garrick and Ajax were both breathing heavily. But Garrick had bruises and several cuts.


    "I admit, your bluster is not unfounded. You are talented," said Garrick. "So, I will use my full strength for this."


    "Looking forward to it," said Ajax. Then, it will be smooth sailing.


    Garrick raised his sword skyward, and everyone went silent. Yet nothing seemed to happen. A slight breeze blew through the tournament, but that was it.


    Saphra rolled her eyes. "What absolute nonsense."


    "Hmm?" said Relma.


    The breeze wasn''t stopping; indeed, it was gaining strength. Relma felt her hair flowing to one side.


    "There is no such thing as using ''your full strength'' in combat," said Saphra. "This is nothing more than meaningless posing. I either favor you, or I don''t."


    "Well, obviously," said William. "It''s showmanship. The crowd likes it that way."


    "I don''t. I''d much rather have them fight without talking," said Saphra. "And to death. And instead of knights, we can put all my enemies in the tournament.


    "Instead of fighting, we can just have them killed before me. We may as well just make it a mass execution."


    The wind was getting louder and stronger, almost a gale. Garrick spun his sword one-handed while Ajax kept his stance, both waiting for the first move. Relma pulled her cloak closer around her.


    "Well, you aren''t the crowd, milady," said William.


    "Yes, I suppose they are poorly educated," said Saphra.


    "What?!" said William, voice blurring out.


    Relma could hear nothing else.


    Then Garrick''s voice called out and could be heard everywhere. A storm was now forming around him. Ajax was forced to shield his face as the swirling vortex kicked up the dust. "Winds of the Dusk Lands! I call upon you!"


    And then a wave of surge surged toward Ajax, carrying with it dirt and grass. Ajax rolled aside, only to be blown back. He struggled to keep his feet as the winds grew faster and faster.


    "So that''s how he did it," said William, having come forward.


    The winds were now focusing on the arena alone. Or so Relma guessed as to why she could hear him. "What do you mean?"


    "The Dusk Lands are the domain of the Dust Elves," said William. "They are between Escor and Gel Carn, and they are home to some of the most powerful winds in Harlenor.


    "He must have made a bargain with a wind spirit. A mighty one at that."


    "Is that legal?" asked Relma.


    "I don''t believe it is illegal," admitted William.


    Then, Ajax was caught by the winds and pulled into the air. He struggled to break free of them but to no avail, as he was raised into the air. And then Ajax howled. The howl broke through the winds, chilling Relma to the bone. For a moment, she thought his eyes were glowing and some force was behind him.


    Then, the winds were broken and sent away. Ajax landed on the ground and stood unsteadily. Then he chuckled. "Winds are all well and good. But you need a spirit to use them. And I can strike at the source.


    "I am part demon, after all.


    "Now, let me show you what happens when the descendants of Telix get serious!"


    Then he howled again and surged at Garrick. Yet this time, no wolf boy but a ferocious beast attacked the elf. Garrick needed help to defend himself. But then the winds returned and forced Ajax to break off his assault.


    Ajax redoubled his efforts a moment later. A fist grazed Garrick''s face, and the Dust Elf rolled with the momentum. Spinning through the air, he landed on both feet and struck. Ajax leaped over the blow and got behind him, only to block an elbow from Garrick.


    Then the sword fell again. Ajax rolled away from it, and they circled one another as the crowds cheered. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What did he do?" asked Relma.


    "There are two components to all magic," said William. "The will, the vessel, and the source. The caster''s will is how the spell is directed and maintained. Without it, nothing can be done. The vessel is the specific means of bringing magic into the world.


    "In Garrick''s case, his sword.


    "The source-"


    "Hey, you''re distracting from the fight," said Estela. "Shut up."


    "I''m interested," said Relma.


    "Well, no one else is," said Estela.


    Garrick summoned another whirlwind and sent it against Ajax. But Ajax howled again, and the winds seemed to meet a wall. Relma stared awestruck and realized that no one in the crowd was saying a word.


    "How can he counter the winds by howling?" she asked.


    "I was just getting to that," said William. "The source is the spirit, demon, or god that provides the means of the effect. In this case, Telix.


    "Ajax''s source is in his blood. So he''s probably using the power to counteract the spell."


    Relma looked back. "Hey, Estela, remember back when Lightning Trail was drawn?"


    "Yes, what of it?" asked Estela.


    "Remember all that howling by Telix and his wolves?" asked Relma. "Everyone nearly broke and ran before we''d even started fighting. Maybe Telix has the power to subjugate other people''s wills.


    "So maybe he''s striking directly at the will of the wind spirit."


    "Well, he is the son of a god of order. So subjugation is part of the domain," said William.


    Finally, Garrick and Ajax stood across from one another. Both of their chests were weaving with exhaustion. Their eyes were locked. Garrick tried to raise his sword but fell forward and had to support himself.


    Ajax tried to take advantage but fell to one knee.


    "...You are skilled, half-demon," gasped Garrick.


    "I''m a quarter demon. Also, a quarter god," said Ajax. "And half wolf."


    "You are skilled, half-wolf," said Garrick, narrowing his eyes. "Few indeed have managed to counter me so effectively. Unfortunately, my winds are dying down.


    "But you, too, are nearing exhaustion.


    "Let us finish this in one final charge." And he arose.


    Ajax stood. "Sounds fair to me. Let''s go."


    The winds began to kick up. Ajax''s eyes flared again. One could feel the tenseness in the air. See the power gathering for one final bout that would determine the winner of this match.


    "This is it," said Relma.


    This was going to be amazing.


    Garrick and Ajax charged toward one another in a mutual charge. Ajax howled, and the wind howled against him. Then Garrick stepped to one side and stuck out his sword, so Ajax tripped over the blade''s flat. Ajax crashed into the ground at breakneck speed.


    He struggled to rise as the winds faded. But Garrick put his sword to Ajax''s throat. "Victory is mine."


    Ajax stared at him. "You cheated."


    Boos resounded from the crowd. A lot of people disagreed with the ending.


    "I said ''one'' final charge," said Garrick. "You made a charge, and I tripped you up. It wouldn''t be my affair if you misunderstood." He looked to Davian. "Call the match."


    Davian looked around. "This is a bit anticlimactic. People want a climax."


    "I don''t see how that''s my problem," said Garrick.


    The booing got louder. Davian looked around helplessly. "As Ajax is defeated, Garrick is the winner!"


    "Damn it!" said Relma, slamming her fist against the railing. "I hate that guy!"


    So much for the hero winning; this was a terrible ending.

 Chapter 207 - Fourteen: Fredericks Glory

    Relma went looking for Ajax when he stalked off, worried about how things would go for him.


    She found him sharpening the sword he had yet to use. His eyes were bloodshot, and his shoulders were shaking. Had he been crying? That didn''t seem like him. Fortunately, there was no one around to see.


    She put a hand on his shoulder. "Ajax, are you alright?"


    "I lost the match. I... how could I lose?" said Ajax.


    Relma shifted. "You lost to Ergath."


    "I won that fight!" snapped Ajax. "I beat him within an inch of his life and forced him to flee! I just collapsed afterward!" He paused. "And it was different! I am my Father''s favored son and was defeated in front of everyone."


    "Garrick more or less cheated," said Relma. "It just happened to not be against the rules."


    "It doesn''t matter," snapped Ajax. "I''ve been shamed in front of everyone. Whoever wins this tournament will have their prowess displayed for all to see. And those who are beaten will be humiliated.


    "I have been humiliated."


    "I''m pretty sure they exaggerated how big this tournament would be, Ajax," said Relma. "The turnout for competition has been a bit underwhelming. Besides, I''m not sure anyone other than you or Frederick could have taken out Garrick. It was just your bad luck; you ran into him in the first round." She felt Garrick was one of the most dangerous people in the tournament. Cheating aside.


    "It doesn''t matter," said Ajax. "I was still knocked out in the first round."


    "Well, it was actually a terrific fight, if that helps," said Relma.


    "It doesn''t," said Ajax. "Now, leave me alone."


    Relma shifted. "Sorry."


    And she walked away, feeling bad for him.


    She got back to the stands and sat down next to Estela. Her friend looked at Relma in surprise. "Where have you been? The fight is about to start."


    "Who is up?" asked Relma, not wanting to answer.


    "Varsus," said Estela. "He''s fighting against Frederick." S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Davian came forward. "Good people from far and wide! Today we have a battle between new and old! Experience and youth! Human against halfling!


    "On the one side, we have an heir of the Gabriel family. A knight who seized ship after ship from the Calishans in war, who could only be held back from the war for the sake of duty! Well, he means to make up for it here! I give you Varsus Gabriel!"


    Varsus came forward, wearing a sword and a shield. He wore a helm that hid most of his features. Then Davian motioned to the other side, where Frederick was clad for war.


    "And on the other, we have one of the most famed knights. A valiant veteran of the Black Marshes and a dozen other campaigns! A victor of a dozen tournaments! His name is renowned among the Black Watch as a living legend! But does he have what it takes to win the Tournament of Kings!


    "I give you, Sir Frederick!"


    The cheers were deafening. Higher, even than they had been during the fight between Ajax and Garrick. "Frederick! Frederick! Frederick! Frederick!" cried many citizens.


    "They seem to hold this halfing in high regard," said William.


    "Sir Frederick is among the greatest knights of Gel Carn," said Saphra as she filed her fingernails. "Underestimating him wouldn''t be smart. He recently removed a large gang of bandits and slew them all singlehanded."


    "Impressive," said Joseph Korlac, who was sitting with them. "But I''m told Varsus is very skilled with the blade."


    "He''s a master," said William. "He sailed with my mentors, Raynald and Rusara. They fought several actions against Calishan pirates together. Then, during the Khasmir Campaign, he was an administrator for our supply lines. Father tells me he did very well for himself."


    Now the two of them were coming forward. Their blades were drawn. "I suppose I ought to say something," said Varsus. "But I have no true desire to bluster or make speeches."


    "Then let our blades speak for us," said Frederick.


    And then they fought.


    They fought conservatively. Very conservatively, actually. They seemed to be taking each other''s measure, Testing the other''s defense. And then they began in earnest. First, Varsus attacked with a flurry of blows, which Frederick parried and deflected. Then they slowed to a halt. Frederick made a few probing attacks, trying to incite Varsus to pursue. Varsus replied with feints.


    The crowd was getting bored.


    "Varsus is doing remarkably well," said Joseph, dripping with politeness.


    "He was always very skilled with a sword," said William. "He gave me a few pointers when I was younger."


    "Are you better than him?" asked Relma.


    "Well, Raynald taught me to attack aggressively," said William. "My mother instructed me in defensive tactics. But Varsus is all about redirecting and using his enemies'' offensive against him.


    "Only Raynald ever beat him. Though Mother never fought with him at all."


    "Well, that explains things," said Saphra. "Frederick has exactly the same style."


    "So let me see if I have this straight," said Reginald. "We''ve got two master swordsmen, both focusing on defense. And they are both trying to incite each other into attacking."


    "Which means the loser of this fight will be the one who gets bored and walks away first," said Joseph.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "I expect that will be the audience," said Saphra.


    "Well, Varsus has a longer reach," said William. "So he''ll stand a better chance than Frederick if he goes on the assault."


    Relma looked to where Ronald was watching. He was holding his wolf and Frederick''s, petting them as the fight continued.


    "It''s a bluff," said a voice.


    Relma looked up to see Ajax entering to sit down. "Ajax? What are you doing up here?"


    "I''ve fought Frederick before. He''s far more than he appears," said Ajax. "He makes heavy use of theatrics. He''d never let something like this bore the crowd unless it helped." He sniffed. "What smell?"


    "What smell?" asked Relma.


    "Iosos," said Ajax. "Someone here has Iosos."


    "What''s that?" asked Relma.


    "A poison. One meant to slow the body down," said Ajax. "Someone might be able to cheat with it."


    "Well, neither seems to be slowing down," said Relma, looking to the feint.


    Saphra leaned forward and rested her head on her chin. "...This is certainly boring."


    "Fight already!" someone called.


    "Couldn''t you get your cousin to get things going?" asked Saphra.


    "No point. Varsus always chooses the most efficient way of going about things," said William. "That''s why he''s never gone on a campaign. His talent for organizing supply lines makes him more valuable off the battlefield of battle.


    "He doesn''t really care what the crowd thinks as long as he wins."


    "And Frederick is trying to make him get frustrated and attack," said Relma. "We''re going to be here a while, aren''t we?"


    "Quite possibly. Frederick isn''t fooling enough to exhaust himself," said Reginald. "And Varsus is too defensive."


    "At this rate, we''re going to have to skip one of the fights today," said Joseph.


    And then Frederick burst into action. He unleashed a flurry of strikes, fighting like a berserker. Varsus was forced to retreat beneath the attack and nearly lost his grip on the sword. The crowd broke into cheers as Frederick won several glancing blows. Then he brought down his sword. It rang against Varsus'' helm, and William''s cousin fell to one knee. He rose, shaking, and took another defensive stance. Reginald put his face in his hands.


    "Oh, come on, Varsus!" said Reginald. "You''re supposed to heat things up, not cool them back down!"


    Frederick attacked again, and Varsus was forced to yield ground. Frederick made showy attacks, and Varsus struggled to hold him back. However, he never scored a winning strike or knocked Varsus from his feet.


    "So that''s what he''s doing," said Joseph.


    "Hmm," said Saphra.


    "Varsus realized that he couldn''t compete with Frederick directly," said Joseph. "But he also knew that Frederick would eventually feel obligated to make a show of things. He probably deduced that from his spectacular entrance.


    "So he calculated that Frederick would cave first."


    Judging from how Frederick slams him around, Relma wondered if it did any good. It really was very one-sided. The crowd liked this a lot more than they liked the previous exchange. But there was still an air of disappointment.


    "This really isn''t very sporting, is it?" asked Relma.


    "What do you expect?" asked Reginald. "It''s Varsus! Once, a red dragon had flown in from the south and gone to Brisgald. It demanded that it be placated with livestock to eat, or it would pillage the countryside.


    "Everyone asked his father to do something about it. Varsus'' response was to get the damn thing adopted as a sister. Though Auga never liked me.


    "He takes all the fun out of our profession."


    On it went until finally, they halted. Varsus shaking, and Frederick calm and in control. They said something, and the words didn''t reach them. Relma looked up. "Reginald, what happened to Ham anyway?"


    "The idiot got put in prison," said Reginald. "He''ll be there for the rest of the tournament. I had to talk his men out of staging a rescue."


    "Oh," said Relma. Well, at least Ham''s men were willing to rescue him.


    Then she realized Varsus and Frederick were walking in opposite directions. "What''s going on?"


    "Ladies and gentlemen!" said Davian. "The fighters are calling a rest!"


    "Well, isn''t that nice for them," said Saphra. "Is this fight ever going to end?"


    "Varsus isn''t much concerned with people''s opinions of him," said William. "Though I don''t see why he agreed to the rest."


    "They both probably want the rest," said Joseph. "Frederick is tiring, but Varsus is taking a serious beating. So he probably wants to adjust his strategy."


    Frederick went over to Ronald and spoke with him. After a moment, Ronald handed Frederick a flask from the wolf''s pack. Frederick drank of it.


    Relma felt someone looking at her. Glancing up, she saw the black knight from before sitting down in the corner. Her hands were on her poleaxe, which was in front of her. Looking back to the ring, Relma wondered why she had moved.


    This time the two charged straight at each other and began attacking all out. Relma wondered why. Then it occurred.


    "Finally, the real fight is starting!" said Reginald.


    "Actually, it ended with the rest," said Joseph. "Varsus has realized that Frederick will win against him. Even if Varsus is taking the defensive. This is as an attempt to salvage some audience interest."


    "Come on, Frederick, beat him down!" called Relma.


    Frederick seemed to be doing just that. But William was silent. Relma looked at him in surprise. "Aren''t you going to cheer for your cousin?"


    "Please," scoffed William.


    "What is that supposed to mean?" asked Relma.


    "It''s beneath my dignity to make such a scene," said William.


    "Well, that''s a bit elitist," said Relma.


    "Of course it is," said William. "I am an elite."


    "When were you knighted anyway?" asked Relma.


    "I don''t see how that is any of your concern," said William.


    Defensive, wasn''t he?


    "Look! Varsus is going on the offensive!" said Reginald. "He''s driving Frederick back!" Relma turned and thought Frederick must have been feigning it out of courtesy. But he genuinely seemed to be struggling. Mere moments ago, he had been dominating. But now he was staggering, hardly holding together.


    Varsus slowed to a halt.


    Then Frederick surged forward. He knocked aside Varsus'' blade and slammed him with one shoulder. Varsus staggered back and fell to the ground.


    "So he was feigning his strength lagging," said Joseph. "Clever."


    "No," said Ajax. "Frederick would never use that kind of tactic. Theatrics are one thing. He doesn''t make surprise attacks. Look."


    Frederick had collapsed to one knee. He was gasping for air. He could hardly stay on his feet and was supporting himself on his sword. Maybe he''d overdone it. Relma hoped that was it.


    "Do you wish to forfeit?" asked Varsus, his tone concerned.


    Frederick mastered himself. He rose and raised his sword. "I forfeit to no man or god."


    Deafening cheers came. Varsus nodded and rushed at him. Yet Frederick slammed into his legs and sent him sprawling. His blade flew from his grip to clatter a few feet away. Varsus scrambled to grab his sword before Frederick closed in. Frederick could have beaten him there.


    But he let him rise.


    "You really should cheer for your cousin," said Relma.


    William looked up from where he was scratching the ears of his chimera. "Massacre, cheer on my behalf."


    Massacre arose and roared with her lion head. Her dragon head sent forth a wave of fire, and Relma ducked. It passed overhead, and Relma felt the heat on her face.


    "Thank you," said William.


    "Bah," said the goat head.


    "How did you befriend a chimera anyway?" asked Relma.


    "Thank you for assuming I befriended her," said William. "Everyone I meet assumes Massacre is a tame chimera. Which isn''t true in any sense of the word."


    "He healed her after she was mortally wounded by satyrs," said Saphra.


    William looked up in surprise. "How did you know that?"


    "Well, I have read your book," said Saphra. "If you didn''t want people to know your life story, releasing it in written form was short-sighted, dear." William flinched. "...What is it?"


    "Nothing, you just reminded me of someone," said William.


    "Arraxia?" asked Saphra.


    "Well, yes," said William.


    "Good. I was deliberately trying to raise memories of your scarring," said Saphra. "I enjoy the sight of other people in mental anguish."


    "You are terrible, Saphra De Chevlon," said William.


    "One does one''s best," said Saphra.


    The Frederick had continued. But Varsus became more and more reluctant to attack. While Frederick''s movements became sloppier. Several times he nearly fell to his knees. And finally, he did fall and couldn''t rise again.


    "What''s going on?" asked Reginald.


    "Frederick, he''s keeling over," said Relma.


    "I know that! Why?" said Reginald.


    "He must have fought too hard," said William.


    "No," said Ajax. "Frederick has a lot of endurance. The way he''s slowing down isn''t natural."Davian came forward in concern. "Would you care for rest, sir?"


    "Yes... I... I believe I''ve been poisoned..." gasped Frederick.


    And then he collapsed.


    "Frederick!" cried Relma. She was not the only one to yell.

 Chapter 208 - Fifteen: Pointing Fingers

    William got to Frederick before Relma did. The moment the halfling knight collapsed, the paladin had vaulted over the stand. Now he was rushing to Frederick''s side, cloak flowing behind him. How did he move so quickly in that armor, like a man clad in cloth? Relma rushed after him, trying to catch up and marveling at his strength, but in vain. By the time she arrived, he was kneeling by Frederick. The crowd was murmuring fearfully and looking at Varsus accusingly.


    "Cheater!" screamed someone.


    "Poisoner!" shouted another.


    "Get away from Frederick!"


    The stands almost spilled over as the crowd rushed forward in a rage. But Davian tapped one foot. A shield of light energy barred their progress as William began to heal Frederick. His hands glowed faintly as he worked at it.


    "I insist you calm down," said Davian. His voice cut like a blade.


    The crowd shrank back, cowed. How did he do that?


    "How is he?" asked Relma.


    "His body has been heavily drugged," said William, channeling his power. "And his heart is beating much less quickly. If things go on like this, it may stop."


    "Iosos," said Relma. "Ajax smelled Iosos earlier."


    "Quite possibly," said Aunt Pan as she arrived. "Step away, Gabriel. I''ll deal with this." She put her hands on Frederick''s arm and began to channel.


    "Ajax said that Iosos is only meant to slow a person down," said Relma.


    "I use it to slow flow the effect of toxins," said Aunt Pan. "If used in large amounts, though, it can make the heart stop."


    The other soon hurried up. Joseph Korlac looked around at the scene. "When was he poisoned? How long does this drug take before it effects?"


    "A few minutes," said Pan bitterly as she approached. "The fool. He should have called for a rest as soon as he drank. Now he could die, and our task is all the harder."


    Ronald approached, the flash in his hands. His eyes were red, and he looked unable to speak. His hands shook as he walked. "I..."


    "What is it, Ronald?" asked Relma, clasping his hands.


    "Someone might have slipped something into his waterskin," said Ronald. "While I was watching the fight."


    "Do you think Varsus did this?" asked Estela keenly.


    "Dare suggest it again, and I will-" snarled William, putting a hand to his sword.


    "Stop it!" said Aunt Pan. "I must focus on this." She closed her eyes. Then opened them and sighed in relief. "His heart is beating again."


    "To purge that much poison so quickly," said William, looking at her work in surprise. "I wasn''t able to. How did..."


    "I didn''t purge it," said Pan. "I stimulated his heart to counteract the effects of the drug. You can''t heal these the same way as battle wounds.


    "You learn these things by experience."


    "Enough," said Joseph, coming forward and throwing his cloak behind his shoulder. His dark hair made him look very noble and cunning as he walked. "We must find the real culprit. Not bicker amongst ourselves."


    "What makes you so sure it wasn''t Varsus?" asked Estela.


    "Ignoring my character? I''m not such a fool," said Varsus bluntly, sounding somewhat offended. "If I were to poison Frederick, I would have done it in a less obvious manner. Something which couldn''t be traced. This method leaves me the obvious culprit so I can be discounted."


    "No, you cannot," said Joseph, shaking his head. "No one here is discounted until we have looked at the situation rationally. Ajax, how long does it take for Iosos to take effect?"


    "A few minutes," said Ajax.


    "Is it possible that the poison was administered before the fight began?" asked Joseph of Ajax.


    "No. It works slowly, but not that slowly," said Ajax. The wolf boy seemed pleased at being consulted. "He''d have keeled over long before."


    "Is all this true?" Joseph asked Aunt Pan.


    "Yes," said Pan. "I''m surprised Frederick stayed on his feet as long as he did."


    "Then it is clear that the poison was administered during the brief rest," said Joseph. "Ronald, give me the waterskin that Sir Frederick drank out of."


    This was all becoming a game.


    Joseph was obviously relishing the chance to show off his deductive ability. Ajax was only too glad to be consulted, and the crowd had now viewed it as a new form of entertainment. Unfortunately, Relma wanted to change where this was headed.


    Frederick had been seriously hurt, and now it was a source of sport. But then everything was like that in Harlenor. Relma being shot with an arrow had been that.


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    Ronald offered the waterskin, and Joseph took it. He then offered it to Ajax. "Ajax, can you smell the Iosos here?"


    "Yes," said Ajax. "It was poured into the water."


    Joseph gave it to Aunt Pan. "Can you confirm this?"


    Aunt Pan closed her eyes and held the flask. She opened her eyes. "He speaks the truth."


    "Very well," said Joseph. "How expensive would you say Iosos is?"


    "It''s fairly rare. I don''t know the asking price," said Ajax. "Usually, I gather it myself. But I know that many members of the Sorcerer''s Guild would kill for it.


    "I have patches I get from as a source. And no, I''m not going to reveal them; I grew them myself."


    "Lady Pandora, do you have any insight into this?" asked Joseph.


    "It is expensive," said Pandora. "I sometimes use it for medical purposes to help my patients ease into sleep. Though I only use small doses."


    "Could it be used as a tool of assassination, Ajax?" asked Joseph.


    "It could. But it would be a bad choice," said Ajax. "It takes a lot of it to kill someone. And there are easier ways to poison people with less trace."


    "Pandora?" asked Joseph.


    "Will you stop doublechecking everything I say?!" snarled Ajax. "If you don''t trust me, don''t ask in the first place!"


    "Either of you could have been part of this," said Joseph. "Both of you have a similar mastery of herbs. So if one of you were caught in a lie, it would be a form of evidence.


    "At any rate, we can conclude that the one responsible has access to significant funds. They are also unlikely to have a very excellent understanding of poisons. Their intention was to ensure Frederick lost the fight. However, they dosed him too heavily.


    "Now let us ask, who had the motive to drug Sir Frederick?


    "Varsus has already been suggested. But I should name every person present in the tournament as a suspect, except perhaps Ajax."


    "Why?" asked Estela.


    "Frederick is well documented as a deadly contestant," said Joseph. "Varsus, meanwhile, needs to be better documented. If Frederick had been taken out of the tourney, the path to victory would have been much easier.


    "It is also possible that a political enemy might have done it. But far less likely. A political adversary would have done something more lethal. And whoever did this would have to have access to the backstage. That means it is likely someone who was not marked."


    Relma had heard about all the conflicts up north from William. Sir Frederick had been up there. But most of what he''d done was secure the roadside and protect people. If anything, she''d expect William to end up poisoned instead.


    House Gabriel had thrown down a lot of gauntlets, after all. Moreover, Sir Frederick was popular, and if he died, many people would want to avenge him. Whoever did this was reckless.


    "What if someone bet money on Varsus," said Relma. "And wanted to make sure they won."


    Silence.


    "Isn''t that petty," said William. "Considering the risk of the crime."


    "If it was a lot of money," said Relma. "It could be enough. It doesn''t have to be an elaborate conspiracy."


    "Worth considering," said Joseph.


    "Why is the demon exempt?" asked Estela.


    "He drew attention to the fact that Iosos was used well before the poisoning," said Joseph.


    "Unless he did so to throw people off the scent," said Reginald. "Or hired someone to do it and plans to convict them to cover his tracks."


    "Yes, but that is a complicated explanation," said Joseph. "And complicated explanations are by their nature unlikely."


    "There is a difference between unlikely and impossible," said Aunt Pan.


    "Then let us deal with likely possibilities first," said Joseph, pacing. As he did, two fingers rubbed his chin. "And when they fail us, we will speak of the unlikely.


    "First, who here is likely to use such a tactic?"


    "What about Garrick?" asked Ajax. "He isn''t exactly a practitioner of fair play."


    "Where is Garrick anyway?" asked Rema, looking around for him. "I haven''t seen him at all."


    "He has demonstrated a willingness to disobey the spirit of the rules, if not the letters," said Joseph. He walked to the stand where Benarus was looking on. "Steward Benarus, I request that a search be sent out to locate Garrick Estov for questioning.


    "You should also find any other contestants in the tournament who are absent. All of the servants should be brought in for questioning."


    "Do so," said Benarus to the guards. "Even so, we must continue the tournament."


    "Who do we declare the winner?" asked Relma.


    "You might just disqualify both of us," said Varsus. "Declare it a draw and have neither advance." Varsus might have been trying to throw suspicion off himself by offering to forfeit. But if he really had poisoned Frederick, he''d be giving up the only thing he gained by it. So it worked.


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    "I do not like the idea of disqualifying two innocent men. Especially for something beyond their control," said Benarus. "We shall consider the match postponed. Should Sir Frederick awaken in time, the battle shall be refought. If not, then Varsus will advance."


    "And what of the one found responsible?" asked Estela.


    "We shall leave that matter for when they are found," said Benarus.


    "It isn''t Garrick," said William.


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Relma. William had been pretty quiet, speaking with Felix to one side.


    "Dust Elves are willing to wield cloak and dagger," said William. "But they are never stupid about it. And Garrick is from Sorn, where cloak and dagger is a way of life."


    "I agree," said Pandora. "Garrick is here by the will of Rusara. He would not dare do anything to endanger her reputation without her support. While I do not put this kind of action beyond her, she would have executed it far better than this."


    "Really?" asked Relma. "How would they have done it?"


    "He probably would have been made to sleep too late," said Pan. "If he didn''t show up, Varsus would have won by default. And there wouldn''t have been a public spectacle. Assuming there wasn''t some other motive."


    "Rusara would do no such thing," said William, sounding offended.


    "And what makes you so certain, young Gabriel," said Aunt Pan.


    "I''ve known her all my life," said William.


    "Then she has known you for a fraction of hers," said Aunt Pan. "I should not be too quick to assume you understand her. So many children have been taught by Rusara."


    "Can you say the same?" asked William.


    Aunt Pan looked at him coldly. William met her gaze. For a moment, they stood in silent challenge. "I don''t like manipulating children for my own ends."


    "Manipulating-" began William, and he looked about to flare up.


    Varsus caught him by the shoulder. "William, stop. This isn''t the time."


    William paused. Then he relaxed his grip, somewhat reluctantly. "Yes, of course, Varsus." And he turned to walk away.


    "That boy has an immense talent for healing," said Aunt Pan, voice awed. Behind her, Frederick was laid on a stretcher and led away, Ronald with him.


    "Are you sure?" asked Relma.


    "I have never seen someone that young, that good at healing," said Pandora. "He weakened the effects of the poison with pure brute force. That should have exhausted him. A shame he serves Rusara."


    "Why do you dislike Rusara?" asked Relma,


    "She represents the worst aspects of the Dust Elves, to be honest," said Aunt Pan. "Outside, she is warm and kind. But inside, she is frozen and brutal. Her goddess, Laevian, delights in the darkest aspects of nature and magic."


    "Do you know much about Dust Elves, Aunt Pan?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan remained silent. "They are a nomadic people. Long ago, they were the dominant power in Calisha, ruling over a vast empire. It lasted longer than the elven kingdoms in Harlenor and the south. Then Baltoth came and destroyed their empire. He drove the dust elves into Harlenor or into the far east. Anoa the Bright accepted them as refugees, oddly enough.


    "They have not forgotten that.


    "We''d best get off the field. The next fight will soon begin."


    Relma wasn''t looking forward to it now. The magic was gone.

 Chapter 209 - Sixteen: Berserker against Flame

    It was amazing how quickly things were reset, or so Relma thought. Soon they were all back in the stands, waiting as the crowd watched as the sun moved on. But everyone was restless, waiting for something to happen. No one was focusing on the match but rather on what might happen during the match.


    Everyone was more interested now than before. It was interesting to Relma how unpleasant things could be memorable and exciting. While pleasant things passed you by suddenly, you hardly noticed you had them.


    Saphra seemed to live by that code.


    "Sorry about what happened with Frederick, Varsus," said Reginald. "Bad luck having your win stolen by a cheater."


    "It is of no consequence," said Varsus. "When he is healed, I will fight him again and determine who should have won the match." Meaning Frederick. He''d been poisoned and still nearly won. Judging from Varsus'' expression or what little Relma could make out of an expression, he knew it.


    "The tournament may be over by then," noted Reginald.


    "I will fight him nonetheless," said Varsus. "If only for completion''s sake."


    "Either way, wish me luck," said Reginald, drawing his sword and unslinging his shield. "I''m going up against the Bloodthirster."


    "Bloodthirster?" asked Varsus.


    "Well, she was pretty descriptive in what she wanted to do to me," said Reginald. "Seemed an appropriate name."


    The Black Knight was already making her way into the ring. She spun her poleaxe repeatedly, and it was a blur in her hand. Reginald followed after her, slamming his sword against his shield in a challenge.


    "Be careful, Reginald," said Varsus.


    Reginald halted at the top of the stares and smirked. "I''ve been careful all my life."


    Davian came forward as the two faced each other down. He stood between them, and the crowd was silent. "My friends, today we have a match of supreme excellence!


    "In the one corner, we have an heir of House De Chevlon, come to prove his worth in the battlefield.


    "In the other, we have-"


    "Skip the introductions, you old fool," snarled the Black Knight.


    Davian halted, shrugged, and walked to the sidelines.


    "...I think that might be Tanith," said Estela


    "Don''t be absurd," said William. "Tanith has never once used a polearm in her entire life. She''s terrible with them. Give her an axe or a sword, and she''ll tear through armies. But she''s completely unsuitable with that sort of weapon."


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Estela.


    "| grew up with her," said William. "She''s like a sister to me."


    "Your sister almost started a war," said Estela.


    "No, she responded to aggression with aggression," said William. "Telix had been aggressive long before she was. Benarus was doing nothing. Had the situation continued, things would have gotten far worse.


    "So she made an ill-advised but understandable attack on an enemy who had been allowed to run rampant."


    Estela gave him a distrustful look. "No, all she cares about is killing people."


    "Don''t talk about things you don''t understand." shot back William. "Tanith lives to do battle with the enemies of Harlenor in all their forms. Unfortunately, she is... well, too bloodthirsty for her own good.


    "But she has always been loyal to House Gabriel. If Benarus had responded decisively to the wolves, she would never have had to do it for him."


    "She nearly got us all killed," said Estela.


    "So you say," said William, voice cold. "But why did the situation deteriorate to that point? If Benarus and Argath Marn can''t keep control of their own men, I''ve no sympathy. Telix had been abducting people for a long time before Tanith acted.


    "Why is the life of one black dragon more important to you than the life of dozens of your people?"


    "...They were commoners," said Estela.


    "And they''ll remember how you acted on their behalf," said William. "In any case, I''m inclined to believe my friend."


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    "Quiet, both of you," said Varus. "They are about to start fighting."


    "Why haven''t they before now?" asked Relma.


    The Black Knight and Reginald remained silent as they waited. Relma wondered where Saphra had gone. Glancing at Benarus, she saw she was sitting back with the nobles.


    "They look to be eyeing each other up," said Estela.


    And then Reginald charged. He screamed in a rage and seemed to transform into a wild beast. The Black Knight rushed to meet him head-on. The two fought in a rapid flurry of attacks. Reginald roared in battle rage, attacking again and again. The Black Knight fighting with the same fury but dead silence.


    Then she began to lose ground. Reginald pressed the assault, his roars and screams growing louder and louder. The crowd started to cheer and yell in enthusiasm as the berserkers fought. Finally, the Black Knight was forced to one knee. Reginald attacked again and again, beating down her guard. Finally, he slammed his sword against her helm, sending her falling to the ground. Then he slowed to a halt, breathing heavily, almost frothing at the mouth.


    "That was a good strike by Reginald," said Varsus.


    The Black Knight began to pull himself up. She used her poleaxe as a crutch to rise but was unsteady. Reginald charged at her with another battle cry as soon as he was up.


    Even as he approached, the Black Knight slipped past his assault. She brought her axe around to strike at the back of his neck. But Reginald twisted around and brought his shield around.


    Axe and shield collided, and both fighters recoiled.


    No, she was baiting him backward.


    The Black Knight recovered faster. In a flurry, she drove Reginald back with strike after strike. Reginald was smiling now, parrying, blocking, and laughing.


    "What is going on here?" asked Estela. "Why is he acting this way?"


    "Reginald has certain bloodlines," said Varsus. "Or so the rumors say."


    "What bloodlines?" asked William.


    "It''s said that his grandmother had relations with a demon of Fortenex," said Varsus. "Pure speculation. But his father was prone to flying into rages during battle. So whenever he goes into combat, he gets like this."


    The two had slid to a halt now. They were facing one another down, and Reginald was gasping for air. But the Black Knight didn''t look any less tired. They halted for a moment.


    "...You are better than I was expecting," said Reginald.


    "I have far too much invested in winning this tournament to fail now," said the Black Knight. So had they bet against Frederick.


    "Same here," said Reginald. "I think it''s about time I got serious."


    "More drama," muttered William.


    Reginald threw aside his shield and took his sword in two hands. Then bringing it around, he pressed the blade against his cheek. Then, as the bloodshed, Reginald began to laugh, louder and louder.


    "What is he doing?" asked Relma.


    "Shedding his blood," said Varsus, looking disturbed.


    "What?" said Relma.


    "The De Chevlon''s have a unique ability. When their blood is spilled, they become far stronger and more aggressive," said Varsus. "Nothing can stop them. Or so it''s said.


    "Some have trained to master this bloodlust.


    "Reginald particularly good at it."


    "I''ve never heard of that," said William. "And Raynald De Chevlon was my mentor."


    "Was Raynald ever injured in battle?" asked Varsus.


    "Well, no," said William.


    "Well, that explains it then," said Varsus.


    And then Reginald attacked. If his onslaught had been like that of a wild beast before, now it was a force of nature. The Black Knight''s axe was cleaved in half. Blow after blow hit his armor, denting and cracking it with its sheer power of it.


    Soon he was thrown to the ground. But Reginald did not wait for him to get up this time. It was as if he had been driven mad as he struck repeatedly. The crowd certainly seemed to love it.


    Then the Black Knight struck with half of her poleaxe, knocking Reginald to the ground. He rose and hurled the half without a blade at Reginald, hitting him in the face. He snarled and rushed at him, stabbing and slashing.


    Finally, axe and sword locked as they pressed against one another. Their faces were very near as Reginald snarled and glared.


    Finally, the Black Knight shoved him back. Reginald backed away, chuckling lightly as he took a stance. His smile was tired, but he looked happy. The Black Knight took a stance, body shaking. "... You''re more powerful than I expected.


    "However, I have powers of my own. And I earned these for myself." She raised her axe upwards, and a light flared around her. "Cin''dar, give me your power!"


    Cin''dar? The fire spirit of the Wolven Forest?


    Flames arose around the Black Knight. And then she screamed as the fire flared up within her armor. She fell over, rolling as the flames rose higher and higher.


    "What the hell!!" said Reginald. "Elranor above! Get the healers down here, quickly!"


    The flames died, and there was a deadly silence. Then William and Relma sprinted forward. The Black Knight was lying still. William kneeled by her.


    "What happened?" asked Relma.


    "No time," said William.


    Taking ahold of the helmet, he drew it off. Beneath, there was a face horribly burned, with remnants of silver hair. William set a hand on their shoulder. The flesh was mended, the hair was restored, and Relma saw who it was.


    "Fayn..." she said. "What happened? Did the spirit turn against her?"


    "No," said William. "My mentor, Rusara, has a similar contract. So the fires should not have hurt her."


    Relma grabbed the helmet and looked in. Feeling the inside, her hand came away with black gunk. "...Oil. Someone coated the inside of her armor with oil. But how could they have known she had a contract with Cin''dar?" And how could Fayn not have noticed?


    "I don''t know, but these burns are horrible," said William. "I''m having difficulty healing them."


    "What is Fayn doing in this tournament anyway?" asked Relma.


    "I expect the same thing you are," said William.


    Before Relma could reply Aunt Pan arrived. "Well, this has been a busy day. First, Relma, get my herbs. I will be working all day to keep this from scarring."


    "...Heh, heh..." blurted Fayn.


    "Why are you laughing?" asked Relma.


    "They got me, didn''t they?" said Fayn. And then she began to laugh uproariously. She laughed and laughed until Pan put a hand to her neck, and she fell into sleep.


    "Another attempt to cheat, was it?" asked Varsus.


    "No. It was an assassination attempt," said Benarus as he approached. "Lockdown the tournament grounds; no one leaves without my will." He looked around. "What was done to Frederick might have simply meant to knock him out. This was attempted murder.


    "I suggest all of you keep a close eye on your kits."


    At that moment, Korlac rushed in. "What happened?"


    "Didn''t you see?" asked Relma. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''ve been trying to learn the facts of the case," said Korlac. "Now, what happened."


    "There''s been another bout of cheating," said Pan. "This one is particularly murderous."


    "Well then, you''d best come with me," said Joseph. "I''ve gathered some information, and I''ll need everyone to discuss it."

 Chapter 210 - Seventeen: Persecution

    The participants of the Tournament of Kings were now assembled in the great hall. The only exceptions were Ham, Frederick, and Fayn. Steward Benarus sat before the throne dedicated to the King, who had not sat there in hundreds of years. Joseph Korlac stood beside him. On the other side was Lady Pandora, clad in a more regal dress.


    "So what was it you found?" asked Benarus.


    Korlac paused and looked over the contestants, eyes gazing at each one. Relma felt he was trying to be someone other than what he was. She wasn''t really sure who, though. "Well, after speaking with each of the servants, I have concluded that no one entered or left backstage. Not during the time when Frederick was poisoned. I also ensured that everyone who attempted to enter this place was searched.


    "That means they did not get the poison from Ajax''s kit."


    "I know," snapped Ajax. "You confiscated my poisons. I want them back after this is over."


    "One of my findings was that Ajax has on him many lethal forms of poison," said Joseph, ignoring the bait. "However, since he understands how they work, it is unlikely that he would make such a mistake."


    "What if he knew you''d say that and decided to do it anyway?" asked Estela, annoyed at being ought here. "That might cover his tracks."


    "I find that unlikely," said Joseph Korlac. "For one thing, Ajax had no way of knowing Korlac was good at deduction. For another, it doesn''t seem his style. Also, he lacks any motive for setting Fayn on fire."


    "Does he?" asked Varsus.


    "If you want to accuse me based on my blood, go ahead," snapped Ajax. "But if I wanted to poison everyone in this group, I would have done it at the banquet. I could have done it too; no one even knew I was there the whole time."


    There was silence. Estela and Reginald glared at Ajax and got it right back. For a moment, it continued until Benarus made a noise with his throat. They looked at him. "Let us ask this: Who has benefited the most from the poisonings?"


    "Varsus and Reginald both advanced by default," noted Estela.


    "Speak ill of my cousin again, and-" began William.


    "Calm yourself, Sir Gabriel," said Joseph. "We have to approach this objectively. Reginald and Varsus seem to be the ones who have benefited the most. Which, ironically, makes them unlikely as culprits."


    "What do you mean?" asked Estela.


    "Varsus and Reginald were occupied during Khasmir with administrative work," said Joseph. "And they proved quite adept at it. They are not unintelligent.


    "The attempt on Frederick''s life, we could expect. But the attempt on Fayn''s life was another matter entirely. It needed to be more clumsy for men of their intellect. To say nothing of their honorable character and noble blood."


    "And why would I heal them if House Gabriel was plotting something like that?" asked William.


    "There was no need for you to be involved in the plot," noted Estela.


    As the argument went on, Relma began to think. She considered the sloppy way the assassination was executed. In that situation, it would make more sense for whoever it was to cut their losses and lay low. Not set the next contestant on fire. Whoever it was would have had to initiate the plan quickly and somehow get oil inside Fayn''s armor. Armor that she had been wearing for most of the day.


    Only one person who had even known Fayn was there, aside from Davian. So there really was only one logical suspect. And since they''d known there was a miraculous healer in the benches, the reasoning for their act was clear.


    "I think Fayn did it," said Relma.


    "What?" said William.


    "Why would... I don''t..." Joseph shook his head. "The poor girl was set on fire! How can you even suggest that?!" He hesitated and looked down. "You mean that Fayn attempted the poisoning, and someone else set her on fire? Perhaps in retribution?" He paused. "Ronald Fulsof, perhaps."


    "What?" said Relma.


    "Ronald Fulsof had a large part to play in summoning Cin''dar. That was during the events in the Wolven Forest," said Joseph. "He had dealings with Cin''dar before. And he is rumored to have a love of fire.


    "The Lady Fayn is a political enemy of the Heir of Kings. Perhaps he took matters into his own hands, assuming she poisoned his master."


    "Why would Ronald assume that Fayn did it?" asked Relma. "Nobody even knew that Fayn was here until the assassination attempt. She knew there was a prodigy healer in the audience. She probably poisoned Frederick. But then she botched the job because she didn''t have any experience.


    "Then she set herself on fire to cover her tracks. Who else could have accessed the armor? No one else even saw her with it off! And she knew what a prodigy William was at healing."


    "That''s completely insane, Raleen," said Reginald.


    "Exactly my point! Exactly!" said Relma. "That''s why it''s the perfect cover! By setting herself on fire, she made everyone assume that she was the victim!


    "Who would suspect that she set herself on fire?"


    Joseph looked speechless. "I... I don''t..."


    "Makes sense to me," said Ajax.


    "She had her eyes burned out before I healed it," said William. "This is in poor taste. If you want to defame her, you might at least pick a more appropriate moment."


    And that was how the conversation ended. Of course, there were several other suspects brought up. But Ronald seemed the primary one, and nobody was even willing to consider that Fayn did it.


    Relma knew it sounded strange. But who else could have applied all that oil? It would have happened just before the match. Or there was some kind of magic involved. How had she been able to fight with armor soaked in oil? And even if she could, how could she not have noticed.


    She and Ajax began to walk back after Relma shed her disguise. Together they walked as the sun began to set. Relma doubted anyone would be able to pin things on Ronald. The proposed motive was flimsy, and Frederick would vouch for his character.


    Relma sighed. "So, what is the next fight?"


    "Does it really matter?" asked Ajax. "This part of the tournament is already over." Then he paused, listening. "Follow me."


    He led Relma through the streets, and they saw Aunt Pan walking. Joseph Korlac followed after her. "Lady Pandora, might I ask you something."


    Aunt Pan halted and glanced back. "Yes? How may I help?"


    "Have you ever heard of exactly how Sir Gabriel was knighted?" asked Joseph Korlac.


    "No, actually," said Aunt Pan. "Why do you ask?"


    "He seems young for the position, is all," said Korlac. "Much like others, I could name. I think this matter bears some more investigation."


    "What do you mean?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "Well, it is traditional that only knights enter tournaments," said Korlac. "If a squire did so, they would be disqualified."


    "It doesn''t seem like it would be worth the effort," said Aunt Pan. "Everyone remaining has already won their match. Clearly, they are good enough." sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It isn''t about that. It''s the principle of the thing," said Joseph. "I intend to fully investigate everyone in this tournament."


    "Joseph Korlac, your devotion does you credit," said Aunt Pan. "However, it would be better to let this matter pass."


    "Your concern is noted, Lady Pandora," said Korlac stiffly.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Aunt Pan moved off, and Korlac looked after her unreadably. Then, after a moment, he looked up and saw Relma. He made for her at once. Relma looked around and saw that Ajax had disappeared from sight, as usual. "Relma Artorious, is it? I''ve been meaning to speak with you for some time."


    "How did you know who I was?" asked Relma.


    "I received a description," said Korlac. "And I noticed a look of recognition on Lady Pandora''s face when she saw you."


    "Really?" said Relma. "Who are you?"


    "Joseph Korlac, at your service." He offered her a hand.


    Relma took it. She didn''t know him, she reminded herself. "Right, nice to meet you. How can I help you?"


    "You''ve known the Lady Pandora a long time, have you not?" asked Joseph.


    "Yes. All my life," said Relma.


    "Then perhaps you could answer a few questions for me," said Korlac.


    "What kind of questions?" asked Relma.


    "Nothing you wouldn''t tell anyone else. So tell me, how does Pandora make a living?" asked Joseph. "Does she receive a stipend from Gel Carn?"


    "No, she provides runes for farmers and such," said Relma. So why was he asking all these questions? "They pay her for the service."


    "Really, now?" asked Joseph. "Did she ever speak to you of the Lady Raleen?"


    "Who?" asked Relma.


    "A knight your age," said Korlac. "I''ve seen her in the company of Pandora several times. I was led to believe they were close."


    "I''ve never met her," said Relma. Could you meet yourself? Odd question. But she didn''t have an answer. "But Aunt Pan knows many things she doesn''t tell me. Sometimes when I was younger, she''d meet with people I''d never met.


    "Raleen might be one of them."


    "Of course," said Joseph. "Were you there at the tournament?"


    His questions were hitting a little close to home. "No. I mean, yes. Just not in the front row."


    "I''m told you are very close to Squire Ronald," said Korlac. "I would have thought you''d be watching with him."


    Relma became a little annoyed at this. "Look here, Sir Korlac. When last I looked, none of this is any of your business. So either come out with what you are driving at or leave me alone."


    "Driving at? I haven''t been driving at anything," said Korlac.


    "Of course, you''ll say that," said Relma. "But you think my Aunt Pan has done something wrong. Well, she hasn''t."


    "Everyone with any amount of power has done something wrong," said Korlac simply. "It''s only a matter of what. And Lady Pandora had a great deal of power.


    "Still, it was not my intention to offend you. Good day."


    And he walked off.


    Relma shifted. Ajax emerged from the shadows. "... He''s on to me, isn''t he?"


    "Is anyone not on to you?" asked Ajax.


    Relma laughed. It was funny.


    Relma was tending to her chores the next day when Estela entered the courtyard. She looked in a particularly foul mood as she sat by one of the fountains. Relma approached. "Any news, Estela?"


    "There has been a decision on the matches," said Estela.


    "Well, what is it?" asked Relma. "What''s wrong?"


    "They are being postponed until a decision can be reached," said Estela. "Steward Benarus is moving forward the halfling jousts in the meantime. Which means Frederick probably won''t have a chance to participate."


    "Oh," said Relma. "Well, that''s bad."


    "It''s awful," said Estela. "Frederick has won every tournament in the past five years. Now he''s going to lose because of that damn poison."


    "Well, Lord Fulsof should be happy about it, at least," said Relma. Estela looked at her as if she''d done a personal betrayal. "Look, I like Frederick. But he can always joust next year. And I was raised in Fulsof, Fulsof''s son is my best friend, and I''d love for them to have a chance to win.


    "I''m just trying to look on the bright side here."


    "There isn''t a bright side," said Estela. "To win because your enemy couldn''t show up isn''t a victory."


    "Actually, it kind of is," said Relma. "Especially if you arranged it so they couldn''t show up?"


    "Are you suggesting the other halflings did it?" asked Estela.


    "No," said Relma. "Fayn did it."


    "Are you still harping on that?" asked Estela.


    "She had the motive," said Relma. "What if Frederick was knocked out of the tournament in favor of Varsus? It would have left her, me, and you as the only representatives of Gel Carn. And you''re more for Escor anyway.


    "So if she pulled off a victory, it would be more impressive. It also would have taken one of the best fighters out of the tournament."


    "So she set herself on fire?" asked Estela.


    "Who else would have had access to her armor?" asked Relma. "Nobody else even knew who she was. Or any of her achievements. So why would anybody target her in the first place?" She paused. "Can you think of anyone else who could have done it?"


    Estela said nothing. Neither did Relma. The silence stretched on for some time. Then, after a moment, Relma decided to change the subject. "Why don''t humans have any kind of jousting, anyway?"


    "We''ve never been able to find an animal that can bear us," said Estela. "Well, we have. But few of them are tamable. And most are rare. Domesticating animals takes time, after all."


    "If it is any consolation, it took halflings thousands of years to tame wolves," said a familiar voice.


    They looked up and saw Frederick making his way in. He was walking on two crutches but did not seem unhappy. Relma ran to them. "Sir Frederick, you''re up."


    "Thanks to Lady Pandora, yes," said Frederick. "Though I am still having some trouble standing. Where is Ronald?"


    "He stayed by your side for most of it," said Estela. "But Joseph Korlac is questioning him at the moment. Or he was a moment ago."


    "Very well, then," said Frederick. "I''ll need someone to help me to Steward Benarus."


    "Benarus? Why?" asked Relma.


    "I mean to forfeit the match," said Frederick. "That ought to go part of the way to getting the tournament back on track."


    "But what if Varsus cheated?" asked Relma.


    "I don''t believe he did," said Frederick. "And in any case, I''m not standing very well. So I won''t be able to fight for some time yet."


    "Will you participate in the halfling jousts?" asked Relma, hopefully.


    "Probably not," admitted Frederick. "I can hardly see straight. I''ll need to ask Ronald to take my place. He''s proving quite talented with the lance."


    "I will help you to the Steward then, Frederick," said Estela.


    "Is there any news on Fayn?" asked Relma suddenly.


    "She''s woken up," said Frederick. "And seems remarkably composed. Why do you ask?"


    "I was thinking of going to see her," said Relma. "After my chores."


    Estela looked at her in surprise. "Why would you want to? She made her dislike of you quite plain. And you''re accusing her of almost killing Frederick and attempting suicide."


    "Suicide isn''t a crime," said Relma.


    "It is in Escor and Haldren," said Frederick. "Still, why are you so set on visiting her?"


    "Well, yes, but she just got set on fire," said Relma. "I thought she might like visitors."


    "Just don''t make a nuisance of yourself," said Estela. "Come on, Frederick, let''s go."


    It took Relma a while to finish her chores. During that time, she badly wanted to talk with Ronald. But she saw no sign of him. Eventually, she made her way through the halls to Fayn''s room. She paused only for a moment to pick some blue flowers.


    She had been expecting a guard. But there wasn''t one. Fayn''s room wasn''t even in one of the more secure areas. Relma felt this unfair of Benarus. After all, Relma believed Fayn had nearly killed Frederick, but no one else did. As far as they knew, there was someone who wanted her dead.


    She knocked twice before opening the door. Joseph was sitting by the bedside of Fayn. His expression was hard, and his hands were clasped between his knees.


    "Excuse me?" said Relma. "Is now a bad time?"


    Joseph looked to Fayn, who met his gaze right back. Eventually, he stood up. "...I can leave you two in peace if I am fatiguing you."


    "Much appreciated," said Fayn.


    Joseph walked past Relma. "Milady."


    Relma let him pass, then shut the door and sat beside her.


    "What do you want?" asked Fayn. "Come to gloat?"


    "No, I just, um... I thought you might like the company," said Relma.


    "You don''t have much practice thinking, do you?" asked Fayn. "No doubt your precious Aunt Pan does that for you."


    "Actually, I... well, I disobey her quite a bit," said Relma.


    "I''m guessing that''s why you''re in this tournament," said Fayn.


    "No, I''m not," said Relma.


    Fayn rolled her eyes. "You don''t have to pretend. You''re a decent actor, but you show your personal connections too well. Obviously, you knew Estela from the beginning, and the same for Gabriel."


    "I really don''t know what you''re talking about," said Relma.


    "Fine, keep your secrets," said Fayn, crossing her arms. "Why are you here if you don''t want to gloat?"


    "Well, you got hurt," said Relma. "I thought I''d bring you some flowers."


    "They''re blue. I hate the color blue," said Fayn.


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "Blue is all about clarity of mind. Calm thoughts," said Fayn. "Red is more for anger and passion. People in red are easier to talk to. You can manipulate them."


    Relma paused. "...Is being "in red" a metaphor?"


    "No. And yes," said Fayn.


    A complete non-answer. Relma looked at her. Fayn''s skin was still red, but there were no scars to see. "So, I see you are healing well."


    Fayn smiled. "Yes. I''m told I won''t have any scars. I was expecting... well, William is far better than I thought. Though my skin still aches."


    Relma shifted. "...Why did you enter the tournament, Fayn?"


    "The same reason you did, I expect," said Fayn. "Go in wearing armor that conceals my face with an alias within the tournament. Then publicly reveal my true identity and humiliate my uncle."


    "Why doesn''t your uncle like you?" asked Relma.


    "He''s one of those people who pretend that he cares about something other than his own power," said Fayn. "Even to himself. That''s all anyone cares about in the end. How they see themselves. Everything else is just feeding their ego in one way or another."


    "That''s a bit depressing way to think of things," said Relma.


    "It''s gotten me something of a reputation. See, I don''t pretend to care about other people," said Fayn. "Since I''m honest about who I am and who I am is what everyone else really is, people don''t like me.


    "Nothing hurts the ego more than seeing yourself as you are."


    "Isn''t that a delusion in itself, though?" asked Relma.


    "What?" said Fayn.


    "Well, I mean, you seem like you dislike hypocrites," said Relma. "People who pretend to be good when they aren''t. So you are open about being bad.


    "When people don''t like you acting that way, you dismiss them as a hypocrite. So you don''t have to address the problem.


    Fayn eyed her suspiciously. "What do you mean?"


    "Well, I mean, it''s all very well to be honest with yourself about what you are," said Relma. "But if you know what you''re doing is wrong, doesn''t that make it worse when you don''t do the right thing?"


    "And who are you to tell me anything?" asked Fayn.


    "Nobody special," said Relma. "I was just making an observation."


    At that moment, there was a knock at the door. It was thrown open, and Ronald barged in. "Relma!"


    "Oh joy, Frederick''s squire," said Fayn. "Get out. I''ve already been set on fire once today; I don''t want to make it twice."


    "Sorry," said Ronald, stepping back. He shut the door.


    "I''ll go see what he has to say," said Relma. "I''ll bring you red flowers next time."


    "Whatever," said Fayn.


    Relma left and met Ronald outside. "What is it, Ronald?"


    "Sir Frederick wants me to take his place in the jousting," said Ronald. "You''ve got to come to watch me."


    "Alright. I''m sure you''ll do great," said Relma. "Just try not to set the pavilion on fire."


    "I only started one fire!" said Ronald. "Why does everyone keep harping on about that!"


    "Yes, I know," said Relma. "I''m just joking around. Let''s go."


    Relma was reasonably sure Fayn was guilty. Even so, she didn''t think she was a bad person. Just flawed. Chances were the investigation would stall now. It wasn''t as if anyone else could have done it.


    And that was probably for the best.

 Chapter 211 - Eighteen: Law and Jousting

    The trumpet sounded, and the crowd roared. Two riders upon wolves charged from opposite ends of the jousting arena. Their lances were primed as they raced along the railing, colored with red rope. Their armor shined in the light, bearing the symbols of nobles. Closer and closer they went, and their lances neared.


    For a moment, the entire world stood still. The riders struck one another''s shields. A shower of splinters filled the air as the crowd cheered. The group mainly consisted of halflings. It was larger than Relma expected.


    Relma felt strange, being one of the tallest people present, except for Estela and William. Both of them had chosen to attend, though fortunately, Felix was on some errand. Relma had nothing against him, but he made her uncomfortable.


    "I don''t understand why they have these jousting tournaments," said William. He was resting his chin on the one hand and looking rather bored. He didn''t have a proper appreciation for the sport.


    "Halflings are one of the only mortal races capable of riding wolves," said Relma. "It means they are a great asset if you have any halflings to ride them.


    "There was an invasion a little before I was born. All the satyrs came out of the Black Marshes, thirsting for blood. So they swept over the border and met Steward Benarus in battle, though he wasn''t a Steward then. His phalanx held the satyrs in place, and then the halflings came around and hit them from the flank.


    "It completely routed them," Relma paused. "My Father, Hadleim, was in that battle."


    "So was my Father and Raynald De Chevlon, my mentor. Rusara, too," said William. "And my Father too, and a great many other people. It was considered very important even in their lives. So many of the best names among the nobility fought in the Blackmarsh Campaign.


    "Some of them have mentioned Hadleim in the same breath. You should be proud of your lineage."


    Relma wasn''t really sure she wanted to discuss her Father. He was dead anyway, and it didn''t seem like talking about him had any bearing on things. She''d only wanted to establish a credible lineage. But William seemed to know more about it than she did.


    "Don''t you have any halflings in Haldren?" asked Relma, deciding to change the subject.


    "Mostly, humans, dwarves, and minotaurs. Though there are some elves as well," said William. "A very few. And most of them are in the northern portions, where an old elven homeland once was. It has been partially reestablished.


    "For now.


    "And if it is destroyed, you can thank that bloody conspirator Jehair for it."


    Relma looked at him in surprise. "You''ve met minotaurs?"


    "Yes," said William, looking away.


    "What are they like?" asked Relma.


    "Large. They can be brutal," said William. "But most of those I''ve met are a fine sort."


    The knights met again, and one of them was thrown from his horse this time. The victor rode forward, raising his lance in triumph as the loser was helped and taken off the field. Horns called, signaling his victory.


    At that moment, Reginald approached and sat down. Estela looked up in surprise. "Reginald, you''re here."


    "Yes," said Reginald. "I''m looking to inquire if there are any lesser tournaments I might stand a chance at winning. I was hoping you could help."


    "What''s wrong with the main one?" asked Relma.


    "Saphra commanded me to drop out," said Reginald, voice cold.


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "She''s afraid that if I stay in the tournament. It will look like House De Chevlon and House Gabriel rigged it," said Reginald. "Or so she says. Me forfeiting distances us from the cheating fiasco.


    "I wouldn''t put it past her to have set the thing up just to mess with some heads."


    "Are you any good at throwing axes?" asked Estela.


    "Decent. Why?" asked Reginald.


    "Well, there is an axe-throwing tournament after the next match," said Estela. "And failing that, there is always the melee. So everyone will get a second chance to fight in that."


    "Right, well, I''ll be counting on that to redeem myself," said Reginald.


    "I think you would have won if things had continued like that," said Relma.


    Then she looked at William. "Hey, what about Varsus? He isn''t pulling out."


    "He''s considered above suspicion. I have healed everyone affected by the cheating," said William. "So, my actions reflect well on him."


    "No, he isn''t above suspicion," said Reginald. "Korlac''s been grilling everyone. I think he wants to make a big show of his findings."


    "I suppose that means Fayn will advance to the next round then," said Estela, voice cold.


    "Yes," said Reginald. "There have been a lot of people advancing without earning it, haven''t there?"


    "Fayn might not even be up for the next round," noted Relma. "She got hurt pretty badly."


    "She is fully formed and without a scar," said William. "The only thing that could stop her from joining the next round is herself." His voice was dark.


    "Well, don''t you sound bitter?" said Relma.


    "It''s nothing," said William. "I got sliced across the face once, and I''ve born the scar ever since. She is flat out nearly burned alive, and she escapes it unscathed."


    "Aunt Pan says that scars usually symbolize something," said Relma. "Depending on where you get them, it represents something about you."


    "A pseudo magic if ever there was one." snapped William.


    The next match came, and it was Ronald against a far older knight this time. Ronald went clad in Frederick''s armor and looked very fine. Relma noted several young halfing girls were swooning as the knights charged.


    There was a clash of lances, and he unhorsed his opponent. There was much clapping as he dismounted and helped the other up.


    "Ronald is doing well for himself, isn''t he?" said Relma.


    "Yes," said Estela. "He''s unwolfed three knights today."


    "Do you think he''ll keep it up?" asked Relma.


    And then came the next opponent. The final round. This was the one they had seen win before. He had black armor and a red lance. His wolf was as white as snow and snarled at Ronald''s brown one. And then Relma remembered who Ronald was facing.


    "No," said Estela.


    "Who''s that?" asked William.


    "That is Evesulf Fulsof," said Relma. "He''s a relative of Ronald''s. A distant cousin, I think. We met once when I was three."


    "Do you think he''ll match him?" asked William.


    "Evesulf will probably do more than that," said Estela.


    "You are brave, Ronald, to face me on wolfback instead of Frederick," said Evesen. "And you do credit to your master by taking his place. But you will not defeat me."


    "I''d much rather determine that with a lance," said Ronald.


    "So be it," said Evesen. "I shall ride against you."


    "Why haven''t any of these knights been seen in the tournament?" asked Reginald.


    "Halflings always fight either in formation or with guerilla tactics. Or on wolfback," said Estela. "Frederick is a bit eccentric by fighting in single combat.


    "Most halflings consider single combat a very uncivilized business. It''s too personal, you see. War is not something halflings like being done personally."


    The two rode against one another, and their lances shattered. Snatching up a new lance, they made another pass and met again. This time Ronald was thrown back in his saddle and nearly fell. Even so, he righted himself and charged again.


    Again they clashed, and Ronald was knocked into the dirt. Cheers rose very high indeed as Evesen dismounted and helped him up.


    "Well, Ronald has been unhorsed," said William. "I''m surprised he made it this far. Given that he is a squire."


    "Ronald is a lot older than he looks," said Relma. "Haltings mature at about thirty. So he''s had plenty of time to learn to use a lance."


    William nodded.


    "Well done, lad. Would you smoke with me?" said Evesen.


    "Yes, cousin. I will," said Ronald.


    "That''s a tradition," said Relma. "Helping your opponent up is courtesy; not doing so is an insult. Offering to smoke with them is a compliment."


    William looked at her strangely. "Why is single combat uncivilized?"


    "Halflings like their community. Standing out is to be discouraged," said Relma.


    "Isn''t riding on wolfback with a lance standing out?" asked William.


    "Well, yes," said Relma. "But it''s one of their oldest traditions. Going to fight in a tournament where people make elaborate speeches and show off how mighty they are is not.


    "Evesulf speaking to Ronald like that was only acceptable because they were family."


    And then, as they were walking back, Sir Korlac appeared. Felix must have rejoined them at some point because Joseph shot him a distasteful look. "Sir Gabriel?"


    "Yes, what is it, Sir Korlac?" asked William.


    "Steward Benarus wishes to speak with all contestants," said Joseph.


    "About what?" asked Relma.


    "He believes that some contestants were not knights," said Joseph.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    "As if the tournament needs more complexity yet," said Felix.


    "Indeed," said Joseph. "I am beginning to think that no one involved in this tournament bothered to read any rules."


    "I''m not sure Benarus is in a position to disqualify anyone," said Felix.


    Joseph looked up with a glare, and William glanced at Felix disapprovingly.


    "Really? What makes you so sure, Calishan?" said Joseph.


    Felix said nothing.


    "Answer him, Felix," said William.


    "This intrigue with the poisoning is the best thing that could have happened," said Felix. "It makes for a very good story; people will repeat it for years. This tournament''s whole point is putting Gel Carn on the map. So it is in Benarus'' interest for the story to continue."


    "I don''t see your point," said Joseph.


    "Benarus'' wants a knight of Gel Carn to win this tournament because that will prove the valor of Gel Carn," said Felix. "If they win by disqualifying their way to victory, there is no glory.


    "Moreover, everyone in this tournament is important. Not someone you want to alienate. The only exception is Garrick; everyone knew he was not a knight from the beginning."


    "That is irrelevant," said Joseph. "If someone has flaunted the law, then the law must be upheld."


    Felix smiled. It was not a nice smile. "The law is whatever those with power say it is. The written documents you revere lose all validity when the people in power ignore them.


    "That is the nature of power. Those with it need to obey their rules only if they want to. They chose to, or they chose not to. All power is theirs until they lose it."


    "That''s a disgraceful ideology," said Joseph. "Well, befitting your race."


    "When was the last time you heard of the gods suffering because they raped someone?" asked Felix. "If a mortal scars the face of an innocent woman, there is an outrage and talk of vengeance. But, if a god does it, no one blinks twice."


    "Sir Gabriel, please tell me you have a differing opinion than your servant?" said Korlac.


    William remained silent. "I believe that law is a tool. In the right hands, it can be one of great good. In the wrong hands, anarchy is preferable."


    "You do have a Haldrenian perspective, don''t you?" said Joseph.


    "Naturally," said William.


    "I''m going to go find Lady Raleen if you don''t mind," said Relma. She had the feeling there would be another argument.


    "Don''t bother," said Joseph. "She''s standing right here."


    Relma hid her look of surprise by looking around curiously. He might be attempting to fake her out or perhaps joking. "Where? I don''t see her."


    "Only joking, of course," said Joseph. "I''d greatly appreciate it if you could go find her."


    "Right," said Relma, smiling.


    As she hurried off to get her armor, Relma wondered if he had been joking. Or had he instead merely pretended that he was joking to cover a test? Did he suspect? Or did he outright know?


    Either way, Relma supposed she would find out soon. When she got to her armor, hidden in Aunt Pan''s house, she found Aunt Pan herself sitting at the table. She was drawing a series of runes upon several wooden panels. They emanated purity and white light.


    "Aunt Pan, we have a problem," said Relma.


    "What is it, dear?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "It''s Korlac; I think he''s figured out that I''m Lady Raleen," said Relma. "Or at least he suspects it."


    "What makes you think he suspects?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "Well, Benarus is calling everyone together," said Relma. "It turns out that he suspects some of those who entered aren''t knights."


    "Well, then you''d better get your armor on and go there," said Aunt Pan.


    "But what do I do?" asked Relma.


    "Hope he suspects someone else," said Aunt Pan. "If you get caught, I''m sure you''ll be very embarrassed. But it will be a lesson in its own way."


    Relma looked at her in irritation. "Thanks, Aunt Pan. You''re a huge help."


    "Dear, I''m rather focused on making sure that no one gets turned into a vampire," said Aunt Pan. "House De Chevlon has occasionally spread the affliction to others to act as spies. These panels should ensure it is purged away."


    "Wouldn''t we notice if someone is transformed into a vampire?" asked Relma as she began to don her mail.


    "Eventually, though usually of a lower sort," said Aunt Pan. "When spreading to someone, the victim does not know what is happening. Gradually the corruption of the Withering begins to take hold of them. In the early stages, it can be purged rather easily. But as it sets in, the person begins to change. They are eventually bent to the will of the vampire responsible."


    "Is Saphra a vampire?" asked Relma.


    "Not yet," said Aunt Pan. "The De Chevlon''s use it as a reward for their more accomplished individuals. Saphra is, for now, a puppet."


    "So, isn''t there any way to break the curse?" asked Relma.


    "If caught early, runes like these will do the job quite nicely," said Aunt. "Later on, it is not so easy. The stronger-willed ones will resist longer. But they will become a much more powerful variety of vampires."


    "Well, what if someone never succumbed?" asked Relma.


    "Then they die," said Aunt Pan. "A spirit at war with itself destroys the body. That is why scars form."


    "Why didn''t you regard the vampires as a serious concern?" asked Relma. "During the Escorian Civil War?"


    "Relma, vampires are parasites," said Aunt Pan. "They believe they are planning everything as part of some elaborate conspiracy. But it was all futile. No one can control everything.


    "The most significant risk they could pose is if they grew too numerous. If that happened and the vampires started turning people without control. But they''ve primarily kept themselves in check. They don''t kill the people they drink blood from. That would attract unwanted attention. And anyway, Erik the Voyager killed many of them during the civil war, and more died after it.


    "They are merely one more faction with delusions of grandeur. Their schemes were insignificant compared to the prodigious bloodshed. I was far more worried about Arraxia and her Dust Elves. Did you know Father tried to end the killing by an arranged marriage? It was between Rusara''s sister, Sunsara, and a powerful elven lord.


    "Arraxia burnt her at the stake while she was pregnant. To set an example. Compared to that atrocity, some villages losing some of their blood doesn''t matter to me."


    "Well, that''s..." Relma shifted, "horrible."


    "I know," said Pandora. "I''ve learned that the worst monsters aren''t defined by their species or nature. They are defined by what they do. Father and I have to deal with many monsters."


    Relma shifted. She decided to change the subject. "Where is Aren anyway? I thought he''d have come here."


    "In Escor," said Aunt Pan. "He''s trying to smooth over some disputes between House Vortegex and their vassals. We want the country to be stable.


    "And that takes a lot of doing."


    "He spends a lot of time in Escor, doesn''t he?" asked Relma.


    "Well, Haldren has never been fond of Father or me," said Aunt Pan. "We were involved in a few tragic events of their history. And Antion is being run well. So we generally go where we are most needed.


    "And that is here and in Escor."


    Relma finished donning her armor and began to strap on her leg protection. "...Aunt Pan, what do you want to happen in this tournament? I mean, what is the ideal outcome?"


    "Those aren''t always the same thing, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "I want you to be knocked out of the tournament, give up on fame and power, and live a quiet life. You''ll be much happier that way. But, of course, the ideal outcome is winning and becoming renowned far and wide, advancing the goal of Harlenor Reunited."


    "So then, why did you help me?" asked Relma.


    "Because what I want isn''t important," said Aunt Pan. "And honestly, you would have found a way to enter the tournament alone.


    "The last thing I wanted to be known as was a killjoy."


    Relma finished putting on her armor and then donned her helm. "I should go." Buckling on her sword, she went to the door. Then she glanced back. "Aunt Pan?"


    "Yes?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "Thanks," said Relma.


    She arrived in the throne room and found everyone else waiting for her. There was Fayn. And also Ronald, standing by Frederick as an aid. Aside from herself and William, no one was wearing armor. It was somewhat awkward.


    Benarus looked up in irritation. "Lady Raleen, you are late."


    "I''m sorry," said Relma. "I got held up."


    "No matter," said Benarus. "All of you have been assembled here for a reason. You have all proven strong enough to enter the Tournament of Kings. Each and every one of you have defeated at least one knight in the field of battle. And most of you have seen combat directly.


    "Which brings me to my question:" He sighed. "Did anyone even read the rules of my tournament before entering it?"


    Dead silence. Ronald raised his hand. Benarus put his head in his hands. "Thank you, Squire Ronald. I''m glad someone was paying attention.


    "First, Frederick is poisoned. Then my niece is set on fire. And now it turns out that most people who made it to the second round aren''t even knights. And of those, Fayn cheated the system by bribery.


    "Lady Raleen, the family you are pretending to be from was wiped out years ago by satyrs. And since it took this long for anyone to realize the fact, I can only assume magic was involved. Which, in itself, could make this matter criminal.


    "And Sir Gabriel, I must wonder how you managed to get into the tournament without any kind of crest at all."


    Why was Benarus pretending as if he didn''t know who Relma was?


    "I walked up to the desk, clad in skull armor. I had Massacre stand behind me and lick her chops while I signed my name," said William. "Everyone was so impressed they didn''t question anything."


    "Why didn''t you just get yourself knighted?" asked Benarus. "You might have asked me to knight you, and this whole situation could have been avoided."


    William shifted. Then he glanced at Fayn. "I was led to believe that my family had few friends here."


    "I could have you all easily removed from the tournament," said Benarus. "It would be well within the rules. But, unfortunately, now that Reginald and Frederick have withdrawn, that isn''t an option. The tournament''s next round consists of Garrick, Estela, Raleen, William, and Fayn. This means that if I removed everyone who wasn''t a knight, the victor would be Estela by default."


    Garrick stood up. "With respect, Steward Benarus, I am a legitimate representative of Sorn."


    "My apologies, Garrick," said Benarus. "If I removed everyone who cheated, it would be a final fight between Garrick and Estela.


    "And that wouldn''t even be climactic. The crowds would feel cheated and furious.


    "So I''m going to be as forthcoming as possible. All of you are still in the tournament. I''m going to pretend that none of you broke the rules." He looked to Korlac, who was standing by the throne.


    "Now, Sir Korlac, you actually had some input." S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes. I believe I have pieced together what occurred," said Joseph. "First off, we must establish a motive. Who was it gained by the attempted murder of Fayn and removing Frederick from the battle? Clearly, it was not Varsus or Reginald, as demonstrated by their actions. And besides, it is entirely too obvious. Only a fool would be so blatant. And neither of them are a fool.


    "So, who else could gain? Who is it who benefits the most from the removal of Frederick and Fayn from the tournament? Note that both are representatives of Gel Carn?"


    "Anyone who wanted to remove the competition?" guessed William.


    "Exactly," said Joseph. "But why target those who were directly serving Gel Carn? Because if someone were also serving Gel Carn, it would make it all the more dramatic if they won.


    "Imagine what would happen if every person working for Gel Carn were defeated except one. Someone no one was expecting anything of? When that person won, it would be miraculous."


    "Yes. Yes, it would be," said Benarus.


    "I''m the only other person here serving Gel Carn," said Estela. "The whole theory is out. Everyone can account for where I was. And I''m insulted by your implication."


    "I was not suggesting that you did so," said Joseph. "Though it is a just point. I was suggesting that it was Sir Frederick''s Squire, Ronald."


    There was a shifting in the air. Frederick tried to stand but fell to one knee, panting. He looked up with a scowl. "That is a damn lie, sir! And if I could stand, I would prove it over any man''s body! Ronald would never take any action so dishonorably! And even if he would, what motive could you ascribe?"


    "This is a grave accusation, Sir Korlac," said Benarus. "What evidence do you have?"


    "First, Ronald was in the best position to poison the waterskin," said Joseph Korlac. "Second, he is well known to have an affinity for flame and a connection to Cin''dar. Thus he might have caused the spirit to act out the way it did."


    "I only started one fire!" said Ronald.


    "That proves he could have done it," said Benarus. "But that is not nearly enough. What motive could you ascribe?"


    "Take off your helm, Lady Raleen," said Korlac. "Or should I say, Relma Artorious, the Heir of Kings?"


    Relma removed it. "So you learned who I was. A blind man could have done that. What of it?"


    "You were the motive," said Korlac. "You are the Heir of Kings. Your victory in this tournament would have given you great renown. It would have been a great step toward your goals."


    "I would never kill Sir Frederick!" said Ronald.


    "Of course, that was an accident," said Korlac. "Clumsily done. Just as the attempt to implicate Varsus and Reginald. We know he has no great skill with poisons."


    "Ronald would never do anything of the sort!" shouted Relma.


    "No one ever begins planning great evil," said Korlac. "It happens in steps. First, he accidentally poisoned his master. Then he panicked and attempted the assassination of Lady Fayn."


    "And when did he have the time to line her armor with oil?" asked Relma.


    "I put on the oil," said Fayn.


    "What?" said Relma.


    "When I use Cin''dar''s flames, they cannot burn me," said Fayn. "Unless he wants them to. The plan was to writhe me in flames to look more intimidating. I guess he took advantage of the fact."


    "I didn''t do anything of the sort!" said Ronald.


    "And I''m not some scheming mastermind!" said Relma. "Do you really think I''d put Ronald up to something like this?"


    "I was not suggesting anything of the sort," said Korlac. "Ronald could have acted on his own. I grant you that it is not a perfect case, but what other suspects do we have?


    Frederick grasped for his sword, but Ronald grabbed him by the shoulder. "Sir Frederick, please calm down. You''ll hurt yourself."


    "What about you, Fayn?" asked Relma. "You weren''t with us when Frederick was poisoned."


    "Are you suggesting I set myself on fire?" laughed Fayn.


    "Well, you did have access to your own armor. You aren''t skilled with poisons," said Relma. "And it would provide the perfect cover for poisoning, Frederick, after you botched the job." She was repeating herself.


    "Must you try this jest again, Relma?" asked Korlac.


    "I''m not joking," said Relma. "She knew we had a healing prodigy in the stands. It was a good way to direct attention away from herself."


    "Enough," said Benarus. "I will not have this tournament further disrupted any further. There will be no further investigation and no trial."


    "What?" said Korlac, shifting his cloak. "What was the point of bringing me in here if you don''t want me to investigate?"


    "We will leave the matter to Elranor," said Benarus.


    "What do you mean?" asked Korlac.


    "In the ring tomorrow, it will be arranged that Relma and Fayn will fight one another. The battle will take place beneath the gaze of the Heaven''s Eye," said Benarus. "Whichever one emerges victorious will be considered in the right."


    "With respect, Steward Benarus, I have yet to complete this investigation," said Korlac. "My suggestion that Ronald was responsible was as much to gauge reaction as anything else. And there is always a possibility that a mistake has been made. It may be that neither of these theories is correct. Or that there are other circumstances, I would like-"


    "We''ve wasted enough time in this matter," said Benarus. "There will be a fight, the guilty party will hang, and that will end it."


    Well, that couldn''t be called inefficient law enforcement. Wrong and unjust. But efficient.

 Chapter 212 - Nineteen: Grudge Match

    It was the day afterward, and it was hot and muggy.


    Ronald had been escorted to a cell with a barred window, plenty of straw, and a bedroll. Benarus dungeons were universally clean, at least. He had long since destroyed the torture machines his parents and brother had indulged in. Lady Fayn had not since she was fighting in the tournament. Relma stood within the stands, waiting as the time for the matches grew steadily closer.


    She was going to have to fight Fayn. If she lost, Ronald would hang. If she won, Fayn would hang. Relma wasn''t enthusiastic about it either.


    "I can''t believe everyone is so dead set on blaming Ronald," said Relma.


    "I can," said Estela.


    Relma looked up, surprised at her matter-of-fact response. "Really?"


    "Sir Frederick and I spent a while in Artarq, remember?" said Estela with a shrug. "We had to travel through Antion. People don''t like Lady Pandora or Aren much there. And they regard you as their puppet."


    They thought Relma was Aunt Pan''s puppet. But, of course, that wasn''t true at all. Relma was nobody''s puppet; she was acting by her own desires. "Why?"


    Estela shrugged again and brushed dark hair from her face while adjusting her cloak. She looked nice that way. "They say she meddles in things."


    "No, I mean, why would they think I''m a puppet?" said Relma.


    "You were raised by Pandora and have no experience in statecraft," said Estela. "If you took the throne tomorrow, you''d have to rely entirely on advisors. So who would be Aren and Pandora? They''re almost right."


    "But Aunt Pan hasn''t even been to Antion in years," said Relma.


    "It doesn''t matter," said Estela. "The Lady Rusara is held in high regard by virtually everyone. She is feared but also greatly respected. Rusara and Pandora hate each other."


    "Don''t display your ignorance, woman," scoffed William. "No one hates Lady Pandora. We just don''t regard her as important."


    Estela looked furious. Relma put a hand on her shoulder. "But she was chosen by Elranor." She was trying to change the subject before someone started a blood feud. It worked. After a glare, Estela sat back down.


    "That was a long time ago," said William. "These days, people like to run their governments without listening to what a wise old sorcerer has to say."


    "Well then, why does everyone like Rusara?" asked Relma. Keep him talking about himself and not Escor.


    "Rusara doesn''t tell people what to do," said William. "She tells people stories."


    Relma blinked in surprise, quite deliberately. For all his professed dislike of displayed ignorance, William liked to explain things. It made him feel important. "I don''t understand."


    "Rusara never tries to throw her weight around," said William. "She just makes alliances and takes care of her own concerns. And she tells stories to children on the side.


    "Pandora doesn''t do that."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "Have you heard of the Battle of Desora?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Relma. "It was fought up in Artarq, wasn''t it?"


    "It was my father''s earliest military triumph," said William. "He caught the Calishan fleet while it was unloading its forces and drove them into the sea. Father then quickly brooked a truce that ended the war."


    "Right, I remember," said Relma. "Aren said that Argath Marn was made governor."


    "Yes. Argath Marn was allowed to buy the position instead of my father, who had earned it," said William. "And he ran the place into the ground, trying to recoup his losses."


    Argath never talked about his time as governor of Artarq. It predated his second stage of raids, and he didn''t like to talk about even those. Even so, Relma suspected that William''s perspective was inaccurate. But it was still worth hearing. "What do you mean?"


    William shrugged. "He took bribes and looked the other way to criminal activity. His primary concern was profit, and he made lots of that. Father had to spend years uprooting corruption when he took command of the province. Corruption Argath had allowed to flourish.


    "Now that he''s done that, Artarq is profitable, and all kinds of benefits are coming in. The malas trade is flourishing, and Calisha is no longer attacking the border. Imagine what we could have done if Father had immediately gotten the job?"


    "What does any of this have to do with Arengeth and Lady Pandora?" asked Estela.


    "Because they put Argath in office," said William. "They intervened in the politics of Artarq to get their man put in a position of influence. And the man proved to be a huge mistake. It discredited them.


    "Also, my father has neither forgiven nor forgotten the slight.


    "The days of wise old sorcerers giving commands to the Kings of Harlenor are over. Anyone who wants to tell my father what they should do must have more than a long white beard and magical powers."


    "Escor listens to them," said Relma.


    "Escor can''t even keep order in their own kingdom," said William in obvious contempt. "House Vortegex relies on Gail Arengeth to get anything done. They''re only as strong as the foundation on which their reign was laid. And their foundation was of treachery and murder."


    Was he trying to provoke Estela? "Well, that doesn''t seem-"


    "Oh, treachery and murder is it?" asked Estela. "As opposed to pacts with demons and slander?"


    "Slander?" asked William. "Duke Borinius was guilty of treason. And if making a fool of Melchious is a sin, we''ll gladly repeat it. The last true king of Escor declared Erik the Voyager, his heir. You''re nothing but a house of usurpers."


    "That''s what you tell yourself," said Estela. "And what you tell everyone else. But at the end of the day, you increase your power by dealing with demons. You create truces with Calisha to fill your coffers with gold and throw aside your honor daily.


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    "Your house is a corruption of everything Harlenor United stood for!"


    "And what does it stand for, then?" asked William. "A backward society of thatched barns and palisades that has regressed to serfdom?!"


    "Thatched barns?!" roared Estela. "And what of your glorious realm of Haldren, Gabriel? You burn villages and slaughter men, women, and children for entertainment! I assume Tanith must have learned the trade somewhere!"


    "From your glorious hero, Argath Marn," said William, voice deadly cold.


    "And where do you think he learned it?!" snarled Estela. "For hundreds of years, Escorians have feared your raiding ships! You killed your countrymen and burned their towns! The rivers ran red with the blood of my people!


    "A mercenary with an army of brigands strong-armed our king into offering him the throne. And you think that makes you legitimate."


    "A King who cannot repel an invasion does not deserve to keep his throne," said William. "But then, none of House Vortegex''s accomplishments came from their own virtue. So I suppose my words fall on deaf ears."


    "You think you''re better fighters than us?!" asked Estela. "Haldren has been protected by the seas for its entire history! Take that away, and we''d have crushed you a thousand times!


    "You''re just arrogant cowards. A society of glorified berserkers wrapping themselves in the cloak of nobility. You''re more Viokin than Haldrenian. Kin with the satyrs.


    "And you think you can use stolen money to buy yourself a place in Antion! You''re fake nobility!"


    William put a hand to his sword. "How dare-"


    "Stop it, both of you!" said Relma. "Save it for the ring!"


    William remained deadly silent. "... You''d best hope we don''t face one another in the tournament, Lady Estela."


    "I would relish the chance," said Estela.


    William stood and walked to the opposite side of the area. Saphra De Chevlon began to clap. Evidently, she had been enjoying the show.


    "Estela, are you trying to start a blood feud?" asked Relma.


    "I will not stand by while my home is insulted," said Estela.


    "Estela, William is insufferable and arrogant, but he was just talking," said Relma. "Repeating what he had learned at home. There wasn''t any malice in it until you started insulting him back.


    "If you''d talked with him calmly and asked for an apology, he might have reconsidered his opinion. Instead, now he hates you and will double down on it. So you haven''t changed him and made an enemy."


    "It doesn''t matter now," said Estela.


    Relma sighed. "Either way, I''ll be fighting you in the arena today."


    "Not necessarily," said Garrick from where he had been sitting, his sword planted in front of him. "Sometimes, they bring in different rules."


    Before Relma could say anything back, Davian appeared. "May I have your attention?


    "There has been a change to the tournament structure. The next match will be randomized for those who remain in the tournament.


    "You will each draw a number, and that will determine who you face."


    He motioned to a box that had been set up earlier. Garrick stood up first and approached. Estela smiled. "Here''s to hoping I get Garrick."


    Garrick reached into it and drew out a box. "One."


    "Lady Estela, come forward," said Davian.


    Estela moved forward. Relma hoped she got a two. The whole rivalry with Garrick had been interesting to watch. It would be disappointing if they never even crossed swords. "Come on, two, two..." said Relma.


    Estela drew out one and leaped. "Yes! Two."


    William came forward next. He looked in a foul mood as he stalked forward and reached in to take his number. He looked at it. "Four."


    Last of all came Varsus. He drew out his without expression. "...Three, of course."


    Relma began to stand, but Davian raised a hand. "Lady Fayn, Lady Raleen, each of you will face another in the last round."


    "Then the contestants are decided," said Fayn. "Start the damn matches."


    Davian entered the center ring, where the crowds were fully assembled. They were now waiting with bated breath. "Today, my friends, we have a grudge match between two figures of legend! Two figures who have fought each other in this tournament once before! In the one corner, the runner-up to the archery contest and a Princess of Escor, Estela Vortegex!"


    Estela moved forward, throwing aside her cloak as she strode into the arena. Then, turning, she drew her sword and flourished it.


    "And in the other, a silent master of bow and sword, the champion of one tournament already!" said Davian. "I give you, Garrick Estov!"


    Garrick made his way forward, his massive blade propped over one shoulder. As he took a position across from Estela, he brought down the sword. It struck the ground, which cracked beneath the force of the blow. Cheers came from all around.


    "I''m going to make you pay for what you did," said Estela.


    "It was your choice to accept the challenge," said Garrick. "I am not responsible for your inability to keep a steady hand."


    "But you are for this," said Estela.


    The match began, and Estela charged. But this was no berserker onslaught like what William and Raynald had used. She didn''t make a sound as she unleashed a series of stabs. Garrick dodged and weaved backward beneath the onslaught.


    Then he attacked back, the air whistling with the speed of his blade. Estela ducked under it, and several dark hair tufts flew apart. She brought her sword around to strike at his float. Garrick stepped back, and the blade missed his eye by inches.


    "Wow, Estela is really keeping Garrick off his footing," said Relma.


    "Still, it''s only a matter of time before he uses his winds," noted Fayn, interested.


    Finally, there came a pause in the combat as both blades clashed. Garrick slid back and drew his sword. "So, your skill with a blade equals your archery skill.


    "No matter-"


    And then he was forced on the defensive again as Estela attacked with slashes and thrusts. Taken off guard, Garrick had no chance to strike back and could only defend. Something that was difficult, given the size of his weapon.


    "Isn''t Estela supposed to let him summon their full power?" asked Relma.


    "Lady Estela is taking this personally," said Saphra with a laugh as she clapped. Relma mentally imagined her drinking red wine. Then again, Relma had never seen Saphra drink or eat anything this entire time. "It''s a vendetta, not a match. Maybe one of them will die. I''d just love for things to get bloody!"


    "You might show some concern for Garrick," said William. "I expect we''ll miss him less."


    Relma ignored the bait.


    Garrick soon began to tire as Estela struck again and again. He tried to distance himself, but Estela was on him again. With wide strokes, he tried to keep her at a distance, but she moved around them.


    The crowd seemed to like what was happening.


    Then, suddenly, Garrick lost his grip on his sword amid a swing. It fell to the ground, and Estela stepped back.


    "Yes! She''s got him!" said Relma.


    Estela lowered her sword, and Garrick remained silent for a moment. Then he kneeled to grasp it. Even as he did, Estela surged forward and put her sword to his throat.


    "Well, that was pragmatic," said Relma. "Was that cheating?"


    "Yes," said William flatly.


    "Technically, no, William. There is no rule that you have to let the other contestant retrieve their weapon. It''s just etiquette," said Varsus. Estela decided Garrick didn''t deserve it.


    "What she thinks he deserves means nothing," said William. "There are rules of conduct that do not change. Whether you have to follow them or not.


    "Why do you think I spared Cirithil when I found him instead of painting the walls red with his blood and priests. There are things you should and shouldn''t do and unwritten codes of conduct that must be upheld. Garrick has rights, and Estela has violated them."


    Relma had to admit William made a decent point. It sounded wonderful, but she felt that the codes of conduct were vague. Vague enough for William to interpret them in his favor. Just like Estela was doing now.


    Is it too much to ask for someone to write this all down?


    "They aren''t that concrete," said Varsus.


    "They are real," said William. "And if you never uphold them, they will die.


    "Either a knight''s code means everything to him, or it means nothing to him. It''s that simple."


    "Estela has Garrick at her mercy!" cried Davian. "Princess Estela is victorious!"


    "Well, the judge doesn''t seem to agree with you," said Relma.


    "Of course, he doesn''t," said William. "He''s taking his own side. Naturally, he''ll rule in her favor rather than risk Gel Carn having no finalists. Davian has an incentive for Estela and against Garrick. It can''t help but affect his judgment."


    There were a great many cheers, oddly enough. Relma assumed that, given Garrick''s poor sportsmanship, this was satisfying for some. Others could have been more pleased.


    Garrick and Estela returned. Garrick was quiet, while Estela merely looked angrier, despite her victory.


    "Well, that was the usual Escorian discourtesy, I suppose," said William.


    "Turnabout is fair play," said Estela.


    "Whatever helps you sleep at night," shot back William. "Remember that you have lost this tournament, no matter who is declared the victor. Your cheating disqualifies you in spirit."


    Estela seethed and seemed even angrier.


    If things kept going this way, one of them was going to kill the other. Relma had to stop that. The last thing they needed was a blood feud between House Gabriel and House Vortegex. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Again.

 Chapter 213 - Twenty: Cousin against Cousin

    "Good match," blurted Garrick.


    It surprised Relma that he said it, but she was not unpleased. At least Garrick was a good sport about it. Though why, when he had all but cheated before. Then again, maybe that was why he was a good sport about it.


    Estela looked up in surprise. "What?"


    "You have defeated me in combat," said Garrick. "Well done."


    "You aren''t offended?" asked Estela.


    "Why should I be offended?" asked Garrick in genuine bemusement. "You made use of a legal and underhanded method to defeat me. I''m impressed.


    "I would be a hypocrite to not offer you a hand as a worthy opponent." And he offered her a hand.


    Estela looked at it for a moment. Then she took it. "...Good match."


    William turned and walked over to where Varsus was standing. "Well, this will be our match, Varsus."


    "I am interested to see how you have grown," said Varsus. "Here is to hoping I win my first actual victory in this tournament."


    As they walked to the stairs, Saphra arose and quickly made up to William. In her hands was a long violet scarf. "Oh, Squire Gabriel. Take this. I rather like the idea of you wearing my colors."


    William shifted. "...Thank you. But I don''t feel-"


    "Oh please, it would mean so very much to me," said Saphra, smiling for the first time since Relma had seen her.


    William shifted. "...Very well, Saphra. I will wear it with pride." He offered his hand, and Saphra tied the scarf around him.


    On Varsus and William took their places, Davian appeared to announce them. What exactly was Davian? He certainly wasn''t ordinary... what was his rank anyway? He held every position at once when it suited him.


    "Today, we have a battle between family!" said Davian. "On the one side, a recent victor of the Khasmir Campaign! A man who has faced the beasts of hell repeatedly and done battle with Melchious himself! I give you, William Gabriel!"


    William donned his helm and came forward, eyes glimmering. His footfalls seemed like the falling of the Black Mountain behind him as his sword was drawn. The Black Sword gleamed in the sunlight, shimmering off the polished surface. His flaxen hair flowed about him alongside his crimson cloak.


    It was quite a menacing figure, given that William was more or less a good person. Why did he insist on looking so terrifying? Hadn''t he mentioned the armor was a gift from Rusara? Was it a Dust Elven thing? Garrick wore no such armor, so perhaps it was an Escorian Dust Elf thing. Rusara had been notable in the Escorian Civil War as a lieutenant of Arraxia.


    Relma shuddered at the stories of those wars. Never in her time if she could help it. Certainly, she''d never press her claim if it meant a repeat of that. She doubted anyone would.


    "In the other, a man who defeated Sir Frederick in the ring!" said Davian. "A scourge against pirates in the northern seas! I give you Varsus Gabriel!


    "These two cousins will do battle with each other! And the winner is the one who moves on to represent House Gabriel in the finals!"


    The two drew their swords and saluted as Relma approached Estela. Varsus looked very chivalric and heroic in his polished mail and blue cape. He flourished his blade with grace, golden hair swirling about him. William stood at the ready like an executioner.


    What was Saphra up to, though? She''d been insistent on that scarf. Too insistent. Why had William listened to her? They obviously knew one another.


    "So how do you think this is going to go down?" asked Relma.


    "Well, they are family, so I doubt that either one will want to hurt the other," said Estela. "They''ll probably drag it out until-"


    And then William roared. The sound of it was like a cold north wind, and the lights in his eyes now seemed like bonfires. His black sword flashed as he rushed toward Varsus and met him in a flurry of blows. Each strike drove Varsus backward.


    Versus'' shield was dented in a few moments. Yet he remained steady, weathering the assault. As William roared, Varsus said nothing. Instead, he maneuvered and defended beneath the onslaught. Their blades moved faster than Relma could pick up, and Varsus smiled.


    "He''s fighting like Reginald was!" said Relma.


    "Well, of course, he is," said Saphra.


    "What do you mean, well, ''of course he is?''" asked Relma.


    "That scarf is designed to drive someone into a frenzy during battle," said Saphra. "It seems to have worked wonders. I''ll have to thank Rioletta!"


    William''s blade smashed against Varsus shield, and he warded off a counterattack. Then, bringing around his shield, he slammed Varsus'' armor with the rim of it and roared again.


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "Why what?" asked Saphra.


    "Why did you do that?" asked Relma.


    "I hold such truths to be self-evident," said Saphra. "If you need to ask why I would drive someone into a killing frenzy, you obviously don''t know me very well."


    The offense and defense seemed perfectly matched. As William assaulted, Varsus trapped his sword arm under his armpit. Bringing down his sword to slam it against William''s helm. There was a ringing, and William lost his grip on his blade.


    The boy staggered back as the crowd cheered with joy. Now Varsus had his sword pointed at a disarmed William. But William knocked the blade aside and attacked with his shield. He drove Varsus back with another roar.


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    "Why did you give William something that sent him into a berserk fury?" asked Relma incredulously.


    "It amused me," said Saphra.


    What a bitch.


    "We''ve got to call the fight off," said Relma.


    "On what grounds?" asked Saphra. "He''s strong enough will not to kill his own cousin. And it''s perfectly legal. Moreover, enchanting scarves to enhance the fighting abilities of fighters is commonplace, at least among people who can do it.


    "And anyway, accidents are allowed in this tournament."


    Versus was driven back, and William stopped to snatch up his sword. As he did so, Varsus attacked, and their swords clashed. Their blades glinted in the sunlight as they thrust and parried. But gradually, Varsus was resuming his defensive pose.


    "Did you cause any other accidents?" asked Estela.


    "You wound me," laughed Saphra. "What could ever make you think that I would do such a thing?"


    "Well, you just admitted to charming the scarf to send William into a blood frenzy," said Relma.


    "Don''t be silly. I always wear that scarf," said Saphra. "It''s very helpful if I want to strangle someone. All I did was tie it around his arm, and he did accept it."


    Relma turned and made her way through the stands. She got to Steward Benarus'' seat and approached. "Steward Benarus, that scarf William is wearing is enchanted. It''s driving him into a killing frenzy."


    Benarus paused. "Did he accept the scarf willingly?"


    "Well, yes," said Relma.


    "Then I don''t see the problem," said Benarus. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "But one of them could die," said Relma. "What if William kills Varsus?"


    Another roar came from the battleground as Varsus was thrown from his feet. The older cousin rolled away as a blade sank into the earth where he had been moments ago. Cheers went louder now.


    Benarus clasped his hands together and spoke in a low voice. "The Gabriels are our political enemies, my dear girl," he said in a low tone. "Removing one of them is to our benefit. And if one of them dies, the other will be discredited."


    So that was it. It was all politics. The Gabriels were a threat to the Heir of Kings. So Benarus would simply look the other way. "This isn''t right," said Relma.


    "True," conceded Benarus. "But sometimes ruthless actions must be taken for the betterment of the land as a whole."


    Relma said nothing, thinking that that attitude could extend to more than this match. She returned to the stands and saw William repeatedly bashing Varsus'' shield. Soon the shield shattered, and Varsus'' arm fell limp to one side. Varsus'' blade clashed with William''s, then there was a movement, and it was thrown from his hand.


    The truth is, Relma found all respect for Benarus evaporating. He pretended to be this wonderful person who respected the prophecy. But he didn''t really have any moral fiber to him. His idea of helping her was just to do whatever was in her short-term interest without considering if it was right or workable in the long term.


    It was a morally bankrupt, cowardly kind of support, and Relma did not want it. Not that she could refuse it now; Benarus had not left that open to her.


    William drew back his sword.


    "William, control yourself!" said Varsus, scrambling away.


    The cheers went louder and louder. They wanted him to kill Varsus because he had humiliated Frederick. This wasn''t a contest; it was a blood sport.


    Then William staggered back, hesitating. His hand fell to the scarf, but he drew it back. As he did so, Varsus drew a dagger, lunged, and hit the scarf. The blade slipped under, slashing through the cloth. It fell away, blowing in the wind.


    "My scarf!" said Saphra. "That beast! How dare he damage my property!"


    William brought down his shield and smashed Varsus into the ground. Raising his sword, his eyes gleamed. Then he hesitated before staggering backward. Finally, the light in his eyes faded, and he relaxed. Stepping back, he fell to one knee, breathing heavily.


    "Forgive me, Varsus. I... I don''t know what..."


    Versus rose unsteadily. "No harm is done. It''s only a broken arm. Just flesh and blood. You''ve certainly learned your lessons with the sword well." He offered his good hand.


    Only a broken arm? If Relma were in his position, she''d scream her lungs out. How was Varsus so composed?


    William took the hand. Versus helped him up, then spoke. "I concede the match."


    "Varsus has conceded the match!" said Davian. "Sir William is victorious!"


    So it was more or less over. Which left only one unanswered question, despite her best efforts.


    Relma looked at Saphra. "How could this amuse you?"


    "I couldn''t bear to watch another fight where both sides defend for three hours. And judging from how the tournament has played out so far, it would end in an anticlimax," said Saphra. "Instead, we got an aggressive berserker attacking a defense specialist.


    "The contrast made for great entertainment.


    "And the purpose of this tournament is entertainment. So Frederick and Varsus were a bore. And Reginald against Fayn had no actual resolution. And every single one of Garrick''s matches ended with someone borderline cheating.


    "Really, I''m doing everyone a favor."


    William and Varsus didn''t immediately return. They seemed to be speaking quietly, and Relma couldn''t hear it. There seemed to be several boos coming from the crowd. Whoever was making them was absolute beasts.


    Fayn approached from some ways away.


    "I''ve been meaning to ask you, Baroness. Reginald can''t be that much younger than you-"


    "He''s older," said Saphra.


    Fayn blinked. "What? But then, how are you, his Aunt?"


    "My parents didn''t stop having children for a very long time," said Saphra. "I grew up looking up to my nieces and nephews."


    "So, was there some kind of purge?" asked Fayn.


    "Something to that effect, yes," said Saphra. "House De Chevlon has a high turnover rate."


    Turnover rate? As if her family was a place of employment. This lady was sick.


    "What does that even mean?" asked Fayn.


    "It means we die young. A lot," said Saphra.


    "So how does this Raynald everyone keeps mentioning fit into everything?" asked Fayn.


    "Oh, he is my uncle," said Saphra.


    "Then shouldn''t he be in charge?" asked Fayn.


    Saphra shrugged. "He occupies a gray area. Somewhere between being an upstanding member of the family and being disinherited. They actually left him for the wolves when he was a baby."


    "Why?" asked Relma in horror. What was wrong with this family?


    "A nursemaid accidentally injured one of his arms when he was a baby," said Saphra. "The wound couldn''t be healed, so they left him to die on a mountaintop. Then the wolves brought him back to us.


    "Probably for the best. He did turn out to be one of the best war leaders in Harlenor."


    "Your family is sick," said Relma.


    "I prefer to think of us as extraordinarily normal," said Saphra.


    Then William threw aside his shield. What was going on here?


    "Ladies and gentlemen," said Davian. "William and Varsus are requesting that the match be refought. William claims that he was affected by a spell."


    There were murmurs. Then Steward Benarus came forward. "I will grant this if Sir William wishes to put his victory at risk."


    And so the swordplay began again. This time William and Varsus fought against one another equally. They thrust and parried, clashing again and again. Yet William was stronger, and Varsus had no shield. Little by little, Varsus was forced to yield ground.


    Varsus reached the edge of the ring, then dodged to one side and struck William on the side. The blow glanced off his pauldron, and William brought his blade around. Varsus caught it on the flat of his own sword.


    Relma thought she saw a flash of fire, and Varsus'' sword shattered. The blow fell on his shoulder, and Varsus fell to the ground.


    "How is he so strong?" asked Fayn.


    "I''m told William has a special bloodline," said Saphra. "Something about a continent ruled by warrior women. I don''t really care." She didn''t care about much, did she? "What is important is that I must enchant an entirely new scarf! Honestly, these knights look very fine, but they''re completely inconsiderate!


    "They haven''t considered how inconvenient it is for me when they break my spells!"


    "If Varsus hadn''t cut that cloth, he might be dead," said Fayn.


    "And there would be one fewer person in the world," said Saphra. "People are an unlimited resource. More are being made all the time, and they take up a lot of resources to maintain. "Magical artifacts are not."


    "Glad you have your priorities straight," said Fayn with clear sarcasm.


    "You''re an absolutely sick person, you know that, don''t you?" asked Relma. "Even for a De Chevlon."


    "On the contrary," said Saphra, "I''ve never been ill a day."


    Relma didn''t like being vindictive. She''d be lying if she said she wasn''t happy the scarf got ripped, though. And she was happier they''d refought the duel.


    This way, Saphra couldn''t claim any credit for the victory. Nevertheless, it was a small satisfaction.

 Chapter 214 - Twenty-Two: The Duel of Honor

    William and Varsus returned to the stand to cheer crowds. As they did, Varsus looked pained and fell to one knee on the stairs. William kneeled and helped him up. He probably meant it kindly, but his armor made his concern look threatening.


    "Varsus, are you alright?" asked William. The rasping voice made his question seem mocking and sarcastic.


    "Yes," said Varsus. "You''ve advanced in skill since last we met. I remember you used to hate sword practice." He smiled for the first time since Relma had seen him.


    "I still do," admitted William. "I just work at it anyway." He approached Saphra somewhat coldly. Relma half expected him to strike her, but he did nothing. He merely nodded in apology as Saphra arose to meet him. "I fear that the enchantments on your scarf were broken, milady."


    Wait, so was he going to pretend as though she hadn''t done anything wrong? Why did he act this way with Saphra but treat Estela with open contempt?


    Saphra took the scarf and looked over its broken halves. "Hmm, I suppose I''ll have to fix this up. But, first, I''ll have to pray to Rioletta for help."


    "Rioletta?" asked Relma in surprise.


    "The Goddess of Weaving," said Saphra. "Queen of Fate and, if you believe the legends, Dark Elves. She gave mortal races stitches and threads. So you must go to her whenever you enchant anything made by threads.


    "And she always asks a price. Some prices are easy to fulfill. Some are hard."


    "I thought she was the Goddess of Spiders," said Relma.


    "No, spiders are merely her symbol," said Saphra.


    "But what do spiders have to do with weaving?" asked Relma.


    There was dead silence. Saphra looked at her flatly. Relma shifted and had the feeling she had said something ridiculous. Spiders wove webs. "Oh, right, that was a foolish question."


    "May I ask why you didn''t tell me the nature of that scarf?" asked William.


    "For my own amusement, of course," said Saphra. "And to force the match to be interesting. Also, when I made the scarf, the price was that I gave it to the first person in skull armor I ran into. "Meaning that all my labor was more or less for nothing. Thank you very much, Varsus."


    "I make no apology," said Varsus. "Your enchantment nearly killed me."


    "I''m terribly sorry about that," said Saphra. "But breaking a contract with Rioletta is never a good idea. She tends to be... vindictive."


    "Why would Rioletta demand something like that?" asked William.


    "Aside from her own amusement?" asked Saphra. "Rioletta tends to the threads of fate. She can predict futures, which is a direct match for even Laevian.


    "She probably believed that me giving this scarf to you at this point would result in a chain of events. One that would turn to her benefit."


    "You might have told me about the nature of the scarf," said William.


    "Your right," said Saphra. "I might have."


    William opened his mouth. But then Davian spoke out. "Attention!


    "Steward Benarus has commanded that the next match will occur tomorrow at noon."


    Relma remembered that she was going to have to fight Fayn. And that whoever won, someone she knew, would end up hanging. So now she had another day. She sighed in relief. "Thank Elranor. Where has Aunt Pan been during all of this anyway?"


    "I believe she was tending to some of the wounded from the smaller tournaments," said William. "There was an accident."


    True to William''s words, Relma found Aunt Pan healing the sick in one of the pavilions. She was channeling energy into a rune that emanated a soothing light. Relma had seen her do this before. However, she had a different technique from William.


    William put his hands on them and healed their wounds. In contrast, Aunt Pan''s runes worked more slowly. The patients were bandaged, and the smell of herbs was in the air. Aunt Pan looked up. "Relma, there you are. I''m sorry I haven''t been there more often; people tend to get injured at these sorts of tourneys?"


    "What happened to them?" asked Relma. Most of the wounded were dwarves.


    "Reginald won the axe throwing tournament," said Aunt Pan. "These fellows took offense. There was a fight, and many of them ended up injured. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "All of them should live."


    "And where is Reginald now?" asked Relma.


    "Drinking, I believe," said Aunt Pan. "He used some of his winnings to purchase Sir Hawkthorne''s release from prison."


    Relma paused. "Right. What am I going to do, Aunt Pan?"


    "About what?" asked Aunt Pan.


    Did she not know? Had no one told her? "It''s Steward Benarus. He... he''s planning to make my fight with Fayn a duel of honor."


    "What are you talking about?" asked Pan.


    "I... remember the poisoning before?" asked Relma. "And Fayn getting set on fire? Well, some people said that Ronald did both to rig things in my favor.


    "Anyway, I panicked and said that Fayn probably did it. Poisoned Frederick and then set herself on fire to cover her tracks."


    "That seems unlikely, dear," said Aunt Pan.


    "And that''s what makes it the perfect cover," said Relma. "It would be just like Fayn to do it. Anyway, Benarus said that our fight in the tournament would determine who was guilty."


    "This sounds like nothing more than hearsay," said Aunt Pan. "There hasn''t been time for a proper investigation. So what is Benarus thinking?"


    "I think he just wants to get the matter over with so it doesn''t distract from the tournament," said Relma. "But... but he said he''d hang the one responsible!"


    Aunt Pan went still. "I see.


    "This isn''t about justice. It''s about resolving the succession."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "Fayn''s parents died when she was very young. Benarus despised both of them for association with House De Chevlon," said Aunt Pan. "She was largely raised by servants. She''s also an only child. So if Benarus were to hang her, there would be no one to seek revenge."


    "But if he hung Ronald, it would alienate Lord Fulsof," said Relma.


    "Of course, it would," said Aunt Pan. "But Benarus is impulsive. He probably thinks you''re destined to win this tournament. So assumed you''ll be victorious."


    "Can you talk to him? Convince him to call this off," asked Relma.


    "I could," admitted Aunt Pan. "Unfortunately, the method he chose is legal. The winner of a duel of honor is traditionally indicated by the gods. I''ve always disliked the process myself, but it is still legal.


    "Changing it now would take a long time."


    "So what do we do?" asked Relma. You could get him to reduce the sentence. I don''t want Fayn or Ronald to hang."


    "I can''t do that, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "You have to understand something. Whenever Father and I get involved in politics, it''s a disaster waiting to happen. But, we have a... privilege of sorts that allows us to bypass the system.


    "But every time we use it discredits the system. And it causes the nobility to resent us for throwing the law back in their face."


    "So either Ronald or Fayn will have to hang?" asked Relma.


    "Of course not," said Aunt Pan. "We''ll just have to use a more... indirect interference method."


    Relma paused. "What do you mean?"


    "Benarus chose to end this situation in a duel of honor because of narrative," said Aunt Pan, rising from her seat. "People are watching the tournament of kings. Unfortunately, they''ve seen several dramatic acts of cheating so far.


    "There is now a story. And we are characters. You want to resolve all the major plot threads when telling a story. Either before or during the moment of maximum crisis."


    "What?" said Relma.


    "A final fight to the finish is much more dramatic than a six-month investigation. It would be over long after everyone has gone home," said Aunt Pan. "The hanging provides the stakes.


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    "It also means Benarus can return to business as usual much more quickly."


    "What does any of this have to do with saving Ronald?" asked Relma.


    "Everything," said Aunt Pan. "Benarus wants a satisfactory resolution to this story. Something the audience will like. Right now, there are two possibilities. The scheming Fayn is hung for her crimes, or Ronald dies in a tragic act of impulsiveness. Either will satisfy an audience.


    "What we need to do is shift the narrative. And we must do it so that Benarus cannot kill either of you without making himself the villain."


    "So how do we do that?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan smiled. "This will be a somewhat complicated matter."


    And then there was a knock on the door.


    "Pandora!" said a voice.


    Aunt Pan moved to the door and opened it. Benarus was standing before the door, his hair a mess. He was clad in the mail.


    "What is it, Steward?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "It''s Frederick!" said Benarus.


    "What about him?" asked Pandora.


    "He''s taken Ronald and made a run for it!" said Benarus. "He beat down dozens of men on his way out!"


    "But wasn''t he walking on crutches?" asked Relma.


    "He... he recovered suddenly! And the wolf demon helped him!" said Benarus. "The guards didn''t dare try to stop them! They''ve already escaped!"


    "Where is he heading?" asked Pandora, and Relma thought she saw a flash of satisfaction on her face.


    "The Wolven Forest," said Benarus. "We sent out the trackers, but we found them all tied up on the border with Ajax sitting by them. By now he''s in Telix''s territory.


    "I need your advice."


    Pandora paused. "There is nothing we can do. Telix is master of his own domain, and unless he sends Frederick back, we cannot force the issue."


    Benarus shifted. "...What am I supposed to do now? The duel of honor takes place tomorrow."


    Something clicked. Relma felt that what she said and did now would have enormous consequences. "I''ll take his place," said Relma.


    "What?" They both said.


    "If the battle goes badly tomorrow and I lose, then I''ll hang instead of Ronald," said Relma.


    "Relma, you cannot be serious!" said Aunt Pan.


    "You''re the Heir of Kings," said Benarus. "You cannot throw your life away like this."


    "And that somehow makes me better than other people?" asked Relma. "It is a duel of honor. And if I wasn''t willing to back up Ronald''s innocence with my life, I wouldn''t be a very good person if you did this?"


    Aunt Pan shifted. "Relma, I can''t protect you if you do this."


    "Oh, come on, Aunt Pan. We both know I never listen to you on these things," said Relma, smiling.


    Benarus and Aunt Pan looked at each other, then back. "...So be it."


    The next day had come far too soon. It seemed like the blink of an eye to Relma. She immediately went to the tournament ground with the remaining contestants. But, instead, she sat in the chapel of Elranor, as was the tradition. Fayn was nowhere to be found.


    Before a duel of honor, it was a tradition that contestants sit in a prayer room. Here they would contact Elranor, who would determine the winner. For her part, Relma wasn''t feeling up to it.


    She sat on the bench, clad in armor, her sword across her knees. And waited. Either she or Fayn would die today. If Relma one, Fayn would be killed. If Fayn won, Relma would be killed. And all this was so Benarus didn''t have to deal with a full investigation.


    It was so stupid.


    Eventually, the door opened, and one of the monks came forward. Relma looked up and sheathed her sword as he approached. "Lady Raleen, it is time. Are you prepared to face Elranor''s judgment?"


    "As prepared as ever," said Relma.


    The Heaven''s Eye was truly beautiful. When one looked at it directly, it seemed pure white. The light emanating from it was brighter than the sun, yet it did not hurt the eyes. So it stood, heavily guarded by armored knights in shining mail.


    The white light shone upon their armor, gleaming off in rainbow colors. And as Relma was beneath its gaze into the ring, she felt an undeniable sense of peace. Across from her, Fayn paced restlessly, spinning her poleaxe.


    Davian came forward and seemed, somehow, less real than before. There was a tense air in the crowd as they waited for the blood sport to begin. "Men and women of Harlenor! Warriors and commoners! Militiamen and nobles! Today we have not just a match between two knights but a duel of honor!" said Davian.


    Cheers broke out en masse. The people were entertained. "Assassination attempts on the two competitors have narrowed down the odds! From many to only two! In one corner, a young girl seeking to prove herself! She has accused the young squire Ronald of poisoning his master and setting her alight!


    "Come to defend her honor, I give you, Lady Fayn!"


    Davian seemed to enjoy himself as Fayn flourished her axe. Boos came from the crowd, as well as cheers. Relma supposed she should be glad they were in favor of her. But it didn''t really matter, did it?


    "And in the other, a young knight from a previously unknown family, come to defend the honor of a friend," said Davian. "Lady Raleen has come to stand as champion on behalf of her accused friend! But, more than that, she has promised that she will take his place if he should not be found before the appointed hour!


    "Yet she has done more than that! She has accused Lady Fayn of the very same crime! So now these two will fight with one another in single combat beneath the gaze of the Heaven''s Eye! The victor will go on to the final rounds of the tournament! And the loser will be hung by the neck until dead!


    "Come forth!"


    Relma emerged, and there was much cheering. Frederick was popular, so the one taking his side was cheered on. None of these people knew anything; they didn''t want to know anything. But Relma meant to give them no choice. She had her own plans.


    Fayn flourished her poleax with practiced skill, and flames flared around it. Finally, she took a stance. "You''re a dead woman, Raleen. I''ve been training in using weapons since I was a child."


    "Well, yes, but I''m chosen by destiny," said Relma, taking a stance of her own. "So clearly, I''ll figure out how to defeat you on the fly." It had yet to do her any good against Ajax.


    "Was that meant as sarcasm?" asked Fayn, curious.


    "You tell me," said Relma.


    And then Fayn surged forward, slashing with her poleaxe in the air. A flame whip emerged from it, and Relma scarcely ducked under it. Again it cracked at her feet, and she was forced to dodge and weave. Fayn attacked again and again with greater fury.


    Relma slipped past the whip and charged, but Fayn weaved out of the way of her slash. The dark-armored girl brought around her axe, and Relma caught it on the shield. The heat and force of it were immense, and Relma was thrown off her feet.


    Looking up, she saw Fayn bringing down the axe toward her chest. Relma caught it on her shield and trapped the axe with her sword. Then, pulling it back, she lashed out with a boot and hit Fayn in the chest.


    Fayn lost her grip on the axe, and Relma stood up.


    Before she could so much as hand the axe back, however, Fayn summoned flames in her hand and hurled them. Relma dodged, the heat on her face as she did, losing her grip on the poleaxe. Even as it fell, Fayn caught it. Then she was on Relma with an onslaught of blows.


    Relma defended and tried to think as she did. Fayn was obviously better than her. Better by a long shot. A blow from Fayn''s axe glanced off her pauldron, and she felt a scalding heat on her skin.


    Relma pushed away from the axe blade with her sword, only for Fayn to bring the end around to strike her across the face. Relma fell flat as the crowd booed. Her helmet came off.


    Why was everyone against Fayn anyway? This couldn''t just be about Frederick, could it?


    She got to her knee and was kicked in the gut by an armored boot. Then, a foot was planted down on her chest. Fayn raised her axe.


    She was going to kill her.


    Did it matter? Was that legal?


    Neither mattered if Relma wasn''t alive to find out. Relma bashed Fayn in the leg with her shield, and the girl lost her balance. Throwing her off, Relma leaped onto her and drew out a dagger. Her hand was caught, and they wrestled on the ground, struggling against one another. And then Fayn bashed her head against Relma''s.


    Relma reeled back, pain surging through her. She scrambled back on reflex as Fayn stood, wearing her helmet still. Blood dripped over Relma''s head as the black knight approached. Flames were rising over her armor.


    Fayn charged.


    Then her hand fell over her helmet. Relma threw it. It caught Fayn right in the face, sending her to one knee. Relma wiped the blood from her face and ran for her sword. Even as she grasped it, she saw a flash from the corner of her eye. Relma dropped to one knee and felt flames shoot over her head. Sweat and blood mingled as she saw Fayn coming at her, the axe falling.


    Relma caught the axe on the flat of her blade. There was a flash, and lightning appeared between her edge and Fayn''s. The axe shattered before their eyes, and Fayn fell to her knees. And the sword in Relma''s hand flared to brilliant life. It radiated brighter and brighter like the light from the clouds.


    Fayn clutched her hand and fell to her knees, gasping.


    The crowd was awed. And then Relma realized what had happened.


    "What..." gasped Fayn.


    "The sword... this cannot be!" said Davian, who knew the truth, didn''t he? "Lady Raleen holds Lightning Trail! Through this, she is marked as the Heir of Kings!"


    Relma raised her sword. "My name is Relma Artorious. And I will not allow anyone to be hung for my sake."


    "Steward Benarus!" said Fayn desperately. "Raleen, or should I say Relma, has clearly entered the tournament under a fake name. As a result, she should be disqualified, according to the rules of this tournament."


    There was dead silence and apparent boos. Benarus raised a hand. "This isn''t just a tournament, however. It is also a duel of honor. Is there any honor in a technicality?"


    "More than you think, old man," snapped Fayn.


    There was silence. Benarus spoke with the others. Davian walked forward. "Steward Benarus is conferring with his advisors."


    "Get the fool, Ronald," hissed Fayn. "We should have him ready for the noose."


    Hadn''t anyone heard? Or had it been kept secret? Why would they keep it secret?


    "I have grim news," blurted Benarus. "Squire Ronald is nowhere to be found. He and Sir Frederick have disappeared. They were last seen fleeing into the Wolven Forest. Without him present it seems that the Heir of Kings will hang if she is disqualified."


    "Everyone dies eventually." scoffed Fayn, drawing a dagger. "Though I do not think it my fate to die today." She spun the blade around and took a stance.


    There was a moment more deliberation. Relma already knew what was going to happen here. Davian moved to speak with Benarus. Then he turned to them. "Steward Benarus has dictated that the Heir of Kings will not be disqualified," said Davian. "She has already proven herself worthy of her title and therefore is eligible."


    "So, she is above the law because of her blood," scoffed Fayn.


    "The Heir of Kings-" began Davian,


    "Is a girl my age!" snarled Fayn. "No more worthy to reign than any other. Should not the King be subject to his own laws? Why shouldn''t an heir of one be subject as well?


    "To allow this is a betrayal of the principles that Anoa II laid out! The rule of law over the rule of man!"


    "Are you a knight?" asked Relma.


    "Yes!" snarled Fayn. "I paid someone to knight me in preparation for this tournament! So I technically qualify! Which is more than can be said for you!"


    Good answer. "I''m not sure it''s supposed to work that way," said Relma.


    "The decision stands," said Benarus.


    "Fine then!" snarled Fayn. "I''ll kill her myself then!"


    A whim of flame emerged from her dagger, and she slashed it at Relma. Relma met the whip with Lightning Trail. Light flashed, and the whip recoiled, but Fayn was already coming at her with the knife. Relma caught the hand by the wrist. But Fayn slashed at her wrist with it before punching her in the face.


    Relma rolled with the strike and hit the ground. As she fell, Fayn leaped onto her. Her dagger stabbed down, but it snapped at the hilt as it hit the breastplate. Then, reaching forward with his hands, she gripped Relma by the throat.


    Relma tried to dislodge her as her throat was constricted. Fayn was smiling through her helm. "I''m going to enjoy watching you choke, Relma."


    She couldn''t get her off. Then Relma''s eye fell on a shard of Fayn''s axe. Grasping it, she drew it and stabbed it between Fayn''s armpit. The girl screamed, and Relma, at last, threw her off. Snatching up Lightning Trail, Relma got to one knee and brought it down.


    She barely stopped herself from finishing the movement.


    She had almost killed Fayn. Kill a sentient, thinking person. Ended their life. Fayn had tried to kill her, but that wouldn''t have made it right.


    Cheers were echoed throughout the tournament. Higher and higher. This was what she had wanted, wasn''t it? Just a few rounds early. This was what they wanted. But it wasn''t right.


    "...Do me a favor; cut my throat before the noose," said Fayn.


    Relma breathed. "I said no one will hang on my account." She drew off her sword and turned to walk away. "I meant it.


    "I forfeit."


    "What?!" said Davian.


    "I said, I forfeit. Hang me if you want," said Relma. "The fight is over."


    She should have been disqualified in the first place.

 Chapter 215 - Twenty-Three: Prison Time

    It was a cell and a secure one.


    It could be a much better place, but it wasn''t meant to be luxorious. The dungeons of Benarus were kept clean, with plenty of straw to cover the floor. There was a window that narrowed as it got closer to the aboveground. If Relma wanted to escape, she''d have to scale it up and slip out.


    It would be challenging, but Relma thought it could be managed.


    But Relma wasn''t planning to escape. It wasn''t that she wanted to hang. The idea of the rope going around her neck, tightening until she couldn''t breathe. Would it hurt? Or would it all blur together?


    She supposed that if she were lucky, she''d fall hard enough for her neck to snap. But then, if there were any last-minute reversals, she''d die for nothing. So wouldn''t it be better to stay in the world as long as possible, hoping that someone would cut her down?


    Would Aunt Pan cry? She had yet to come by. No one had.


    It didn''t really matter to her in the end. This surprised Relma, though. Why did she regard the prospect of her own death as insignificant? Why had she been so dead set on sparing the life of Fayn? Someone who tried to kill her, who she didn''t particularly like anyway.


    "Why?" said a voice.


    Relma looked up and saw Fayn standing in front of the gate. The girl was outwardly smug, but her confidence was only a mask. She was conflicted. Relma wasn''t sure how she knew, though. She considered the question. After a moment, she realized she didn''t know what Fayn was asking. Or maybe Fayn didn''t.


    "Why what?" asked Relma.


    "Why would you take my place?" asked Fayn. "You defeated me."


    "I didn''t want to see anyone hang because of me," said Relma. Though that didn''t really answer the question, did it?


    There was more to it than that. It wouldn''t have been justice to let things stand as they were. Relma had known that before the match even began; even if she hadn''t known, she''d known.


    "And what if your friend, Ronald, comes back? What then?" asked Fayn.


    It was a good question. That is a very good question, in fact.


    "Then..." Relma considered how to say that she was confident it wouldn''t be a problem. "I don''t know."


    "You don''t know much, do you?" asked Fayn with a laugh. A forced laugh. "If you only care about making sure everyone lives, you''ll never save anyone."


    "Is that from personal experience?" asked Relma. She had the feeling it was.


    "Sort of," admitted Fayn. "Remember that fire you started? That fire that began in the woods, I was there, hunting. I remember that I saw the flames shying away from me. Me and the other huntsmen. But they were consuming the animals.


    "The others ran. But I didn''t. I walked into the flames and spoke with them. And they shied away. I followed them, and the spirit of Cin'' dar appeared before me.


    "He asked me why I did not flee, and I said he was avoiding me. I said I wanted to watch the forest burn. He told me that he had promised the Heir of Kings he would not slay any she would deem equals."


    "And you made a pact with him?" mused Relma.


    "Not then. I remember he let me stay," said Fayn. "I watched as the trees were consumed around me, and I wondered what it would be like to be consumed.


    "Then I saw a wolf trapped by the fire. And in the other direction, I saw a deer. Cin''dar noticed and asked me if I wanted to save one of them. If I had offered myself in place of both, I would have asked him to break his word to you. I could have tried to trick him into releasing both, so that would have been in bad taste to do so.


    "I didn''t care which one survived, of course. Neither meant anything to me. Yet it seemed rude to refuse a gift."


    "What did you do?" asked Relma.


    Fayn smiled. "I told Cin''dar he could burn whichever one he preferred and release the other. Then, when he released the wolf, I shot an arrow after it as it bound away."


    Not the choice Relma would have made. It seemed so cruel. But saying as much would only be playing into her hands. "Did you hit it?"


    "I don''t know," admitted Fayn.


    Relma tried to understand her. She felt like she did understand. But that understanding hadn''t been revealed to her. It was odd. "Why would you try to kill both?"


    "Wolves are dangerous," said Fayn with a shrug. "They are the enemy of the common folk. And now they serve Telix. That only occurred to me when the flames were lowered.


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    "Do you know why Cin''dar killed the deer?"


    Relma considered the question. She remembered some things she had learned from Aunt Pan. About animals and plants and how things worked. "...Deer eat plants. If there is a lot of foliage in a forest, it is easier for a forest fire to start. Isn''t it?"


    "Yes. And wolves hunt deer, preventing them from overpopulating," said Fayn. "Cin''dar was pleased with my choice. So he offered me power. An aspect of his strength in this bracelet." She drew back her sleeve to reveal a silver bracelet adorned with a single, fiery stone. "And I carry it to this day."


    Relma decided to fulfill her curiosity. "Did you set yourself on fire?"


    Fayn''s smile widened. "Why are you trying to trap me?


    "I choose to consume those around me for my benefit. In so doing, I gained great power. Cin''dar rewards those willing to give their own flesh unto his flame!


    "Now, I could throw all that away in an instant. I could heed a guilty conscience that I don''t have and admit to a crime I may or may not have done. Take the heat off you and hang in your place.


    "Or, I could just do nothing. Save no one. And then I win."


    "Win what?" asked Relma.


    "I''ll be the heir to Gel Carn," said Fayn. "Benarus won''t be able to deny me what I deserve."


    "Why do you deserve it?" asked Relma.


    "Because I was born to it!" snapped Fayn. "Why should my family have to give up its birthright? Just because of some line of kings that hasn''t really existed for years!"


    "Your birthright as Steward of Gel Carn," said Relma.


    "Yes," said Fayn.


    "The Steward. As in, a person who rules in place of a higher authority," said Relma.


    "A higher authority that hasn''t existed in ages!" snapped Fayn. "You might not even be legitimate."


    "True," said Relma, feeling more detached by the minute. "What is the source of a King''s legitimacy?"


    Fayn remained silent. "I could pretend as if it is the will of Elranor, but that isn''t true. History is determined by the man who wins battles.


    "The answer is power. The strong determine right and wrong. The weak follow directives or are destroyed."


    "So, if I was more powerful than you, I would logically have the greater right," said Relma.


    "No!" snapped Fayn. "My family has ruled Gel Carn since the death of Anoa IX! We own it!"


    "So tradition is also a source of authority?" asked Relma. "Doesn''t tradition dictate that you step aside?"


    Fayn remained silent. "It doesn''t matter. Because you are weaker."


    "Why?" asked Relma. "I defeated you in our match."


    Fayn held still. "Maybe. But there are other kinds of power. You''re too weak to take a life. All you had to do was take the victory.


    "But now it doesn''t matter.


    "You''ll hang and-"


    At that moment, a door opened guards returned. The warden came forward at the front, the keys jangling at his belt. Warden Mathias Stone was a huge bear of a man with a bald head and stubble. He wore three knives on his belt and a sword. Somewhat too well-armed for unexpected circumstances. But Relma wouldn''t judge.


    Mathias motioned to Fayn. "You step aside from the cell. We''re releasing the prisoner."


    Fayn glanced back. "But, the hanging is tomorrow!"


    "Not anymore; Steward Benarus has put out a pardon for Ronald Fulsof," said Mathias. "So, she is at this moment released."


    Oh, that''s why Relma wasn''t worried. Literally, the entire universe revolved around her. So what was the rule of law compared to her? It was a little shameful to her just how far things would stretch to help her.


    She felt like she should object to this. But that is both counterproductive and in poor taste.


    Fayn shuddered. "...He can''t do that!"


    "He is the steward," said Mathias as he drew out his keys.


    "Yes, but-" began Fayn.


    "It''s well within his rights," said Mathias, opening the lock.


    "But... but it''s not fair!" roared Fayn. "If I''d lost the match or she hadn''t taken the halfling''s place, they''d have hung us in a heartbeat! Benarus would have been crowing in glee!"


    "That sounds like it has more to do with you than it does with her," noted Mathias. "Besides, you lost the match. So the only reason you aren''t hanging is that she also took your place.


    "You might show a little gratitude."


    "Gratitude?!" shrieked Fayn.


    "Being thankful for services rendered," said Mathias. "It is generally considered a virtue. Now get out of the way."


    The door swung open, and Relma made her way out. She thanked the guards and quickly exited the stairs and into the light. But she saw a familiar shadow as she entered the courtyard.


    "Saved by your title, then?" asked Felix.


    Relma glanced back. The Calishan boy was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and his cloak around him. His eyes were narrowed.


    "Are you disappointed?" asked Relma.


    "Well, I thought the death of one of my master''s political adversaries would be good," said Felix. "You seem to lead a charmed life, however. Seem to. But appearances can be deceiving."


    "What are you talking about?" asked Relma. He was after something.


    "There comes a time in every noble''s life when they are no longer protected by their title," said Felix. "Some face it on the battlefield. Others in the court or on their deathbed.


    "I wonder when you will."


    "I didn''t know I was going to be saved by pardon," said Relma, feeling defensive.


    Felix eyed her carefully. "Hmm, perhaps you weren''t. Well, it doesn''t matter. You see, you''ve just demonstrated that the Heir of Kings is above the law. And at the moment, no one minds. But it doesn''t matter. Sooner or later, you''ll do something that will break the illusion of your perfection.


    "And then, once you disappoint, people will be looking to destroy you.


    "Only a god can disobey his own rules. And you are no god. Not yet, anyway."


    Then he stood up as if to leave. He was familiar. Very familiar. And Relma was afraid of him. But she faced him. "...Who are you, Felix? Tell me, honestly."


    "I think you know," said Felix.


    She did know, didn''t she? Before she could speak, however, someone hugged her. "Relma! Relma!"


    Relma turned around and saw Ronald. Stepping back, she blinked in surprise. "Ronald? What are you doing back here?"


    "I came as soon as I found out you''d be taking my place!" said Ronald. "What are you thinking? I''ll... I''ll go to the noose just don''t-"


    "Ronald, relax. Benarus pardoned you," said Relma. "No one is getting hung." She glanced back. "Felix, I don''t think-"


    But Felix was gone.


    "How does he do that?" asked Relma.


    "Who?" asked Ronald.


    "Nothing. Nevermind," said Relma. "So, who do you think will win the final match?"


    "Well, um, I don''t know who went on to the finals," said Ronald.


    "Fayn, William, and Estela." said Relma.


    "Wait, there are three finalists?" asked Ronald. "How are they going to manage that?"


    "I don''t think this tournament was planned well," admitted Relma.


    "I noticed," said Ronald.


    If nothing else, they were all back and in the clear. Relma supposed she should be grateful to Benarus, but she respected Fayn more. At least Fayn had a notion of consistency and fair play more complicated than us vs. them.


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 Chapter 216 - Twenty-Four: Duel of Flames

    The Heaven''s Eye had been stored away, back to whatever secret location it was held in. The rumor was that there was an ancient vault somewhere in Gel Carn, where the spirit of an ancient knight protected it. Which knight varied; some said it was Sir Orson, others King Anoa himself. Relma thought King Anoa was possible, but it seemed like something other than him. She wondered if she should ask Aunt Pan about it at some point.


    Sir Orson seemed more likely; he was known as dutiful and faultless in all things. And he had been closest to Anoa, but then he had betrayed him.


    It hardly mattered. The ring now seemed empty in comparison as Relma sat down with the other contestants. All of the other contestants.


    It was a tradition that, while defeated, knights would return for the final match. William and Estela were busy glaring at one another. Or at least Relma thought William was glaring. His helm hid his expression, but his body language was angry. And the glowing green eyes made him look furious no matter what he felt.


    Saphra was knitting over to one side, working on a new scarf from the looks of things. Her eyes were gleaming faintly as she did so. Fayn was a few feet away, using a whetstone on her sword. No one was talking as they waited. It was unbearable.


    "So how is this final match going to go?" asked Reginald from where he sat to the left.


    "I''m not really sure. Nothing like this tournament has been done in years," said Frederick, just above him. "The other contests are fairly standard. and they were used as a model.


    "Unfortunately, an archery contest is different from sword to sword.


    "So, there aren''t any experts."


    "When was the last time you had knights here?" asked Reginald.


    "I believe, shortly after the death of Anoa IX," said Frederick. "There were several smaller ones'', of course, but nothing on this scale."


    And then Davian came forward. "Ladies and gentlemen! Commoners and nobles! I greet you!" Cheers broke out with such fervor Davian had to wait for them to die down before he could go on. He waited for almost a minute. "We have watched round after round of a dozen tournaments! We have observed the greatest knights and warriors of Harlenor in epic confrontations! Each round has been more harrowing than the last!


    "But now, we have come to the final rounds! Three knights have proven worthy of this round! But only one can hope to return home victorious!"


    The cheers came back all the louder. And they lasted still longer. Finally, Davian turned around to look at all sides of the crowd in turn. "First among them, the Princess of Escor herself, Estela Vortegex!"


    A horn call rang out, and Estela marched forward. Yet she did not shed her cloak as she did so; she kept it around her as she walked into the ring. She drew her sword with a flourish and fell to one knee, as was tradition. The cheers were deafening.


    "Second, a valiant knight who has faced demons of all kinds, and wandered the blighted realm of Blackfear, William Gabriel!" said Davian.


    William loosed his cloak and handed it to Felix. Then he marched forward without any elaborate moves. He kneeled and bowed his head. There was only a little less cheering this time. Estela was known to the people of Gel Carn, so William had a disadvantage.


    "And finally, the niece of the Steward and a powerful warrior in her own right, Fayn Lancel!" said Davian.


    There were fewer cheers this time, significantly fewer. Fayn moved forward, two-handed sword in hand. She tested the wait before grasping her cloak and throwing it off dramatically. It flowed into the wind and then up into the air. It probably would have been utterly useless in actual bad weather.


    Why did she even bother with it? Though it must have done some good. Some of the cheers grew louder as Fayn, too, kneeled. Relma was glad about this, at least.


    "However, there is an odd number of contestants this tournament!" said Davian. "Thus, each of these three will draw lots. The one who draws the long straw will observe while the other two do battle. When the fight has finished, the last match of the tournament will be set."


    Davian produced the lots and moved forward. Reginald looked to Varsus. "How do you think this will go?"


    "My guess is they''ve rigged the straws," said Varsus. He sounded annoyed, and perhaps he had a right to be.


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Reginald.


    "More is at stake than a tournament. This is a public viewing where knights can show off their skills," said Varsus. "Gel Carn has not come off very well, having mostly lost or advanced by default.


    "They''ll rig the match, so Fayn draws the long one. After that, Estela and William will knock each other out. That will give two chances for William to be defeated, in which case Gel Carn wins either way."


    "That''s a bit cynical," said Relma.


    "Ladies and gentlemen!" said Davian. "The lots have been drawn!" More cheers. Nothing got the crowd pumped for a climax like several attempted murders, it seemed. "On this day, Fayn Lancel will fight Estela Vortegex in single combat!"


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    "Benarus must hate Fayn more than we thought," said Reginald, laughing.


    "Or, maybe, he didn''t cheat," said Relma, annoyed. Everyone took for granted that everyone involved was only in it for themselves. Why did everyone always assume the worst about people?


    Then Saphra started laughing far harder than Reginald. She doubled over with hysterical glee as Relma looked at her in annoyance. Then she righted herself and smiled. "Why don''t we keep our guesses credible here, shall we? I do hope someone gets maimed during this."


    "Why are you so dead set on everyone maiming each other, Saphra?" asked Reginald.


    "A general sense of loathing goes a long way," said Saphra.


    "But why do you loathe everyone?" asked Reginald, moving over.


    "Do I need a reason?" asked Saphra.


    "Yes!" snapped Relma, in no mood for her. Then she paused. "Hang on, where''s Korlac. And Ajax, for that matter?"


    "Sir Korlac is no longer with us," said Varsus. "He left with all his entourage yesterday."


    Relma blinked in surprise. "Why?"


    "He disapproved of Benarus'' handling of the investigation," said Varsus. "He found the hasty way he tried to resolve it bad form. And the subsequent pardon disgraceful.


    "He departed before the tournament was over."


    "That''s a personal insult!" said Relma.


    "He took it as a personal insult that he couldn''t finish his investigation," said Saphra. "Antion has quint ideas about the rule of law. They don''t like duels of honor much at all. So I believe King Andoa outlawed them."


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "Well," said Reginald, "my uncle Raynald De Chevlon was mocked for his withered arm. So he challenged everyone who did it to a duel and killed them. Then their grieving family members challenged him to a duel, and he killed all of them too.


    "They sought legal recourse, but he was untouchable. Nothing he''d done was illegal. To soothe the nobles. King Andoa ordered Raynald to depart the city and not return. He then abolished the practice of duels of honor."


    "After that, people stopped mocking Uncle Raynald for his arm," said Saphra. "It was hilarious."


    "You weren''t even born then," said Reginald.


    "And the records were a wonderful read," said Saphra. "I''d much rather just hang everyone who opposes me. No hope of them winning, you understand?"


    "Well then, I''m glad you don''t rule Harlenor." snapped Relma. "What about Ajax?"


    "He was not allowed his seat here," said Frederick. "He helped Ronald to escape, remember?"


    "But you did that too!" said Relma. "Why are you allowed a seat and not Ajax?"


    "The crowds would probably be outraged if I wasn''t," admitted Frederick.


    So it wasn''t so much Ajax being singled out as everyone else being given special treatment. What was the difference? The whole world seemed to operate with unfair differences. People were given special treatment because of their blood.


    He would have hung if Ham had been a commoner and done what he did. But because of his family, he was merely inconvenienced.


    The prayers were finished. William stepped off the field, and Estela and Fayn took their positions. For a long moment, they held their silence. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then Estela charged forward. Fayn struck at her but dodged while slashing instead of the aggressive style she''d used before. Estela stabbed and slashed, cloak flowing around her as she did so.


    "Fayn is fighting differently from last time," said Varsus.


    "What do you mean?" said Reginald.


    "Last time, she was all aggression with no relent. She never stopped attacking," said Varsus. "Now, she seems like she is trying to bait Estela."


    "Well, we know she has fire," said Reginald. "Relma, what does Estela have up her sleeve?"


    Relma shifted. "Um, she''s an excellent swordsman."


    Reginald blinked. "That''s it?"


    "Look, not everyone has some secret power that they can unlock in times of need," said Relma. "And anyway, I don''t think setting people on fire should be tournament legal. Even doing it to yourself."


    Estela began to drive Fayn across the ring. But Fayn kept her at a distance, slashing with her sword. Always staying just out of reach. Gradually she reached the edge of the ring but slipped away from Estela''s attack at the last minute.


    Bringing around her sword, she nearly struck Estela. But her blow was deflected by a shield, and Estela struck her across the shoulder. Fayn flinched back and soon began to take more blows. Then she ducked under one of Estela''s strikes and slammed her pommel against her helm. Estela reeled back, and Fayn pressed the assault with an onslaught of brutal strikes.


    "Damn it, come on, Estela!" said Relma.


    "I''m not sure you should be rooting for Estela," said Varsus.


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "Estela represents Escor. Fayn represents Gel Carn," said Varsus. "If you are loyal to Gel Carn, Fayn is the one you want to win."


    "I''m loyal to Harlenor," said Relma. "Besides, Estela learned in Gel Carn. So even if she wins, it is still to our credit."


    "Only partially," said Varsus. "It will be better for Gel Carn if Fayn wins."


    And then Fayn stopped her assault and leaped back. Estela used the opening, but as she charged, a flame whip flashed from Fayn''s sword. It struck Estela around the arm and wrapped around her. Estela screamed as Fayn dragged the whip to one side, sending her falling.


    "Is she alright?" asked Relma.


    "Forfeit," said Fayn. "Now."


    Estela had kept her grip on her sword and staggered to her feet. "Never."


    "You really are determined to end up a corpse, aren''t you?" asked Fayn.


    "I am determined to win," said Estela.


    "That makes two of us," laughed Fayn.


    The silver-haired girl charged and brought down her sword. Estela blocked the strike with her sword arm and turned it. But Fayn smashed her again with the pommel and sent her falling to the ground.


    Fayn flourished her blade as Estela reeled. Then, walking forward began to bring it around to Estela''s throat. She did it slowly, for effect.


    She took too long. Estela reached out with her burned arm, screaming as she did so. Then, snatching the blade, she pulled herself up by it and struck Fayn across the helm. Fayn fell to one knee, and Estela hit her again on the shoulder, sending her to the ground.


    Estela''s blade was at Fayn''s throat in a moment. But Fayn did not react. Instead, cheers sounded throughout the stands.


    "The crowd seems to love it," said Garrick.


    Davian came forward. "The victor is Lady Estela! Fayn is defeated!"


    Then Estela collapsed to one knee. Relma ran forward before she could think. William did so as well, kneeling by Fayn. "Is she alright?" asked Relma.


    "Yes, she''s fine. However, compared to her previous injuries, this is nothing," said William.


    Relma then ran up to Estela. "Estela, that was amazing!"


    "I know," said Estela. "Now, can you help me with my hand? I think I broke my wrist."


    "Oh, I''m not sure that will be safe-" began Relma.


    "Do it." hissed Estela.


    Relma helped Estela raise her sword arm to the sky, and the cheers grew even louder. The victory was Estela''s.


    Now she just had to defeat William.


    "My friends, the final match of this tournament will be between the Princess of Escor, trained in Gel Carn!" said Davian. "And William, the heir of House Gabriel, instructed in the sword by House De Chevlon! Trained in the arts of magic by Dust Elves!


    "Only one of these two warriors can hope to emerge victoriously! Only one!


    "But who will it be?"

 Chapter 217 - Twenty-Five: Final Round

    The final round began an hour later when Estela was given a chance to rest and drink water. Relma got her some water personally, and Estela ate some bread and wine cut with water. William, meanwhile, was on the opposite side, kneeling beneath the shade of a tree. His hands were clasped in prayer. Once or twice, Felix approached to whisper into his ear, but Relma did not hear what was said. It had been a tense wait, to say the least. Finally, as Estela tested the weight of her sword, Relma approached her.


    "So, do you think you''ll be able to beat him?" Relma asked.


    "Of course, I can beat him, Relma," said Estela, adjusting her shoulders and tying back her hair. "I''m ready for anything."


    "Just be careful, okay," said Relma. "William isn''t a pushover."


    "I know. He wouldn''t have made it to the final round otherwise," said Estela. "Cheer for me, will you?" And taking up her helm, she donned it over her face, so only her eyes could be seen from it.


    Then she made her way to the stairs and waited. Once again, she did not throw away her cloak. Instead, William stood near her, arms crossed, his shield slung over his back.


    "...So, cousin, who do you believe will win?" asked Saphra.


    "Gabriel, of course," said Reginald. "House Vortegex is nothing to compare to us. And House Gabriel is our equal."


    "That''s a bit presumptuous," said Saphra.


    "Only if I''m wrong," said Reginald. "If I''m right, it will be prophetic. No one remembers the wrong predictions, only the right ones."


    "Being lucky doesn''t make you a prophet," said Varsus to one side.


    "Would you care to make a bet on that?" asked Reginald.


    "If you wish," said Varsus. "Fifty crowns that William defeats her."


    "Fifty crowns on William as well," said Saphra.


    "...Hang on, I thought I was the one who supported William winning," said Reginald.


    "You don''t imagine I''d bet against my own kin, do you?" asked Varsus.


    "And William is likely to win," said Saphra. "Estela has gone up against weaker fair so far. De Cathe threw the fight out of respect. Garrick was beaten by technicality, and Fayn was probably lower tier.


    "William at least won all his matches fairly."


    "You sent him into a berserker rage with your scarf," said Reginald.


    "I only determined his strategy for my amusement," said Saphra. "It didn''t actually give him an unfair advantage. He might have chosen such a strategy anyway. And it did make for such a good show."


    "Relma, are you in?" asked Reginald. "We need someone to bet against, or this pool is for nothing."


    "Elranor says that gambling is wrong," said Relma. She was trying to be High King, so it seemed like gambling was a bad habit to get into.


    "Nor will I take part," said Frederick.


    "Ajax, what about you?" asked Reginald.


    "I don''t have any money," said Ajax. "I hunt for my food and sleep outside. I bathe in rivers. Why would I weigh myself down with the stuff."


    "Oh right," said Reginald. "So why did you enter the tournament."


    "Glory," said Ajax, voice bitter.


    "Splendid," said Saphra. "So we want to take bets, but everyone has decided the same person will win the match."


    "A hundred crowns," said a voice.


    Relma looked up and saw Ham sitting with his head bowed. "I''ll bet a hundred crowns on Estela just to see your faces. Match me, or don''t waste my time."


    "I''ll match that," said Reginald.


    Everyone else was. And that was how the bets were made. At the same time, Davian came forward. Cheers came from the crowd. "Friends and countrymen! We now draw to the final round of this tournament! The culmination of all the matches that have taken place so far! On this day, we will see the final battle!


    "A battle fought between a Princess of Escor and a powerful knight of Haldren. Between a demon slayer and a disciple of the Heir of Kings! Ladies and gentlemen, first, I give you William Gabriel!"


    William went forward. He unslung his shield and drew his sword before shrugging off his cloak. Felix took it and raced off. He was always in the shadow of his master, wasn''t he? Cheers resounded as William raised his sword skyward.


    "They certainly are enthusiastic, aren''t they?" asked Relma.


    "Well, this is the final round," said Frederick.


    "I know, but I''m pretty sure they aren''t the strongest people in the tournament," said Relma.


    "We can leave that to the melee afterward," said Frederick.


    "Melee?" asked Ajax.


    "Well, after all the matches are over, they end the tournament with a free-for-all," said Frederick. "It''s viewed as a means to regain some honor if knocked out early."


    "...Who do you think is the strongest?" asked Relma. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Myself, Ajax, or Garrick," said Frederick. "De Cathe was probably somewhere near them."


    "Except for Garrick, you were knocked out in the first round," said Relma.


    "I know," said Frederick, sounding bitter.


    "And now, second to enter the arena, but in every way her opponents equal, Estela Vortegex!" cried Davian.


    Estela moved forward, still wearing her cloak. She drew her sword and spun it in a series of flourishes before taking a stance. William mirrored the motion but without any of the flourishings. Instead, he raised his shield and glowered through his helm. Relma, for a moment, wondered if Estela wasn''t facing a demon.


    There was a long silence as they faced each other.


    "Lady Estela, do you have any words to say to your opponent before the match begins?" asked Davian.


    "Today, I will prove the valor of House Vortegex and avenge the slight upon my family you have dealt me," said Estela.


    "If the truth gives you offense, the slight is deserved," said William.


    "Then you will taste my steel," said Estela.


    "By all means, make an attempt," said William.


    And then the match began. Estela went on the offense, striking at William. William mostly defended, blocking her strokes and moving as little as possible. He parried a thrust with his sword and shoved her back, and Estela stumbled and nearly fell, but he did not pursue. There was that strength he possessed again.


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    Estela adjusted her tactics. She began to circle, looking for weaknesses. Whenever William sought to strike at her, she moved away. She had to avoid contests of strength if she would win this.


    She moved with her sword, then stepped forward as William raised his shield. Estela knocked aside William''s shield with her own and brought down her blade. Their swords flashed in the light and locked before Estela bashed him with her shield. William stepped back a few paces as Estela pressed her assault.


    He recovered quickly, and soon they were fighting back and forth, circling even as they fought. Relma watched as the two went faster and faster in battle and found herself detached and bored.


    "They certainly are going at it," said Saphra.


    "Yes, yes, they are," said Relma.


    "What''s wrong?" asked Saphra, leaning back and flipping her dark hair. "Don''t tell me this breathtaking display of martial prowess has wholly exhausted you?"


    "I''m spent, alright," said Relma, looking away. "That whole mess with Fayn took a lot out of me."


    "How wonderful," said Saphra. And she sounded like she meant it. "Perhaps we''ll be saved from civil war."


    Relma saw that William was now on the offensive. He had cast aside his shield and was now wielding his sword in two hands. Estela''s shield was becoming dented beneath his attacks as he pressed her. Already a corner of it had been broken off by his strikes.


    "How does that sword keep not breaking?" asked Relma.


    "It''s Nakmar steel," said Felix. Relma flinched. How did he keep appearing like that? He unsheathed the blade by his side. "I have one like it."


    "Well, they''ll have to do it without me watching," said Saphra.


    "Where are you going?" asked Relma.


    "I''ve lost interest," said Saphra. "Reginald, tell me how things turn out." Wait, after chiding Relma for losing interest, she was walking away from the fight?


    What was wrong with her? Finally, her side was out there!


    And she walked off. Relma looked to Reginald. "Is she usually like that?"


    "All the time," said Reginald. "Very few things can hold Saphra''s interest for long. William is doing a fair job of it, but I don''t think she cares much about the outcome.


    "I think she played that trick with the scarf because she was annoyed he interested her. So she''s playing hard to get."


    "Hard to-," Relma halted. "What would she do if she hated him?"


    "I''m not sure," said Reginald. "I''ve never seen her angry enough to hate someone. Fayn and her used to get on well, though. They spent a lot of time together growing up.


    "I wouldn''t call them friends, but Saphra has people she holds in affection."


    "I can see where Fayn gets her worst traits," said Relma.


    "You don''t know the half of it," said Reginald. "Fayn never liked her parents. They always kept her to one side. Apparently, they had some pretty elaborate instructions for her upbringing.


    "They went off into Blackfear, though, and never came back. So then Fayn just tore up all the instructions and went knight-errant as young as possible. She worked with Saphra a lot, hunting undead and such."


    Had they been working together?


    But to what end?


    Relma decided to change the subject and think more about it later.


    "What are you planning to do when all this is over?" asked Relma.


    "Not really sure. I thought I''d head into Escor with Varsus," said Reginald. "There are rumors of war brewing there, one not even Arengeth can stop. It will be a good place to earn some battle glory.


    "What about you?"


    "I don''t really know. I mean, I''ve got some vague, general ideas," admitted Relma. "Keep going as I was before."


    "You might want to give the matter thought," said Varsus.


    Estela had fallen to one knee and struggled to defend herself against William''s attacks. Reginald smiled. "See, Ham, I told you she wouldn''t last."


    "He doesn''t use his shield enough," said Garrick. "William only seems to do well when on the offensive."


    "That''s because of his trainer," said Varsus. "Raynald De Chevlon only has one working arm. So he can''t train shields with him. I will write to my uncle and suggest he have someone compensate for the deficiency."


    "Garrick, what are you planning to do?" asked Relma.


    "Return home to Sorn," said Garrick, eyes not moving away from the match. "I expect I''ll find further work in the employ of Merchant Lord Magnious. He will be pleased that Sorn won the archery contest."


    "So does that pay well?" asked Relma.


    "Actually, yes," said Garrick. "The work is safe, as well."


    "Safe?" asked Relma. "In what way?"


    "Well, mostly, we depopulate islands of natives. The ones who have yet to learn how to forge iron. Sometimes we leave survivors, however. We force them to work on plantations." said Garrick. "Although we also do battle with pirates who prey on the cargo of those plantations."


    Relma shuddered. "That sounds... uh... pleasant."


    "It isn''t," said Garrick. "It pays, however. And there isn''t much threat to life and limb."


    "A warrior of your caliber should seek more honorable employment," said Frederick.


    "I seek employment that pays," said Garrick. "And I seek to be given time to spend my money. Nothing else is relevant."


    "A dust elven response if ever there was one," said Frederick.


    "This coming from the man who escaped with a wanted criminal?" asked Garrick. "You are in no position to judge me on right and wrong."


    "There is a difference between legal and right," said Frederick.


    "No. There isn''t," said Garrick. "Strip away the pretenses, and our moral code is only what we enforce. Suppose neither the government nor the gods curb a given tendency. In that case, that tendency is right at least in the eyes of society.


    "Since the natives cannot stop us, they have no power to enforce their brand of right. Thus it is irrelevant."


    "And I think that''s my cue to go elsewhere," said Relma. She''d had realized what kind of person Garrick was. Did he really believe that? Then she walked over to Fayn, sitting with her hands clasped in front of her. "So, Fayn, got any plans?"


    "No," said Fayn. "What do you want?"


    "Well, see, I''ve been thinking about things, and you''ve grown up in a noble household," said Relma. "I was hoping you might be able to help me."


    Fayn looked up incredulously. "... You''re joking."


    "No, I''m not," said Relma. "An alternate perspective is useful. And you''re about as alternate a perspective as one can get.


    "Seriously. If I ever become King, and that''s a big if, I''ll need to work closely with you as a Steward." She offered a hand. "Truce?"


    Fayn remained silent for a long moment. Then she took it after a moment and finally smiled. It was the first time it had reached her eyes. "Truce."


    "What is this about?"


    Relma paused. "I''m interested in what happened between you and Benarus. I can tell he doesn''t like you and doesn''t seem to have liked your parents."


    "Cervan and Jezebel deserved what they got," said Fayn. "They always treated me like an ornament. Like some doll they could put the right skills into it and use them for their own ends. Eventually, they went off to Blackfear and died; I don''t care."


    "Shouldn''t you honor your parents," said Relma.


    "Shouldn''t you?" asked Fayn.


    "I didn''t know them," said Relma. "And I never will.


    "You had the chance to know yours."


    "That didn''t help," said Fayn. "I never got anything from them.


    "I might have been declared their successor while they were gone, but it was a front. They had a lot of people set up to run things for them. They did a lot of reading into old textbooks about alchemy, trying to become gods. They were never going to let me inherit. Once they became gods, they''d maybe hand me the estate when they didn''t want it.


    "I don''t know, I didn''t wait. See, rumor had it that Telix was looking for a new home. And many of Cervan''s people had their muscles in the Wolven Forest. So Vanion and Wrynncurth set things up with Benarus, and I hired the guides which Telix used. They wiped the bandits out.


    "After that, I disposed of those idiot handlers who thought I was just some doll to be put on a pedestal. Except for Aklus, the son of a bitch. He got away and runs operations for criminals out by Antion."


    "Why did you hate him?" asked Relma.


    "Because he was psychotic," said Fayn. "All he ever talked about was killing people. Once, he killed a servant just because he was in the way. He followed orders from Cervan because Cervan enabled him. Cervan let him kill people, as long as they were people he wanted dead or who didn''t matter.


    "And he helped Jezebel get some of the people she used for her...


    "Experiments."


    "What were they planning?" asked Relma.


    "It doesn''t matter what they were planning," said Fayn. "They''re dead.


    "I read enough of their books to know it had to do with some ancient unholy artifact. Apparently, they''d been setting up pieces in Gel Carn. Eventually, they had to set their plans and go to Kadan. Things were about to start really taking off for their evil scheme.


    "But they never got that far; they got killed by undead and eaten by ghouls. Rather poetic, really. Everybody wants to be the Dark Lord. They all go into the dark arts thinking they will be gods of the new world. They never remember that most people who enter the business get wiped out in the first hurdle."


    Relma thought it was poetic. "You could learn by their example, Fayn.


    "You and Saphra have been very unwise during this Tournament. You could end up like them."


    "This is fun for Saphra," said Fayn. "She came to this tournament to be entertained. And she has been." She paused and looked to the fight. You should pay attention. Things are reaching their climax."


    Relma looked to the fight. "How do you know?"


    William struck Estela in the leg. Estela gasped and fell to the ground. William kneed her across the helm with her leg, sending her sprawling. Estela brought her sword down to smash it against William''s shoulder as she fell back.


    William staggered backward a few paces. It was the largest reaction Relma had seen him do so in the fight so far. Estela began to rise to her feet. Relma expected William to attack, but he stood where he was and waited for her to get to her feet.


    There was a moment of silence.


    "Nice move," said Fayn.


    Then Estela pulled off her cloak and threw it. It caught around William, and he struggled to try and get it off. Before he could, Estela hit him across the helm, sending him to the ground. Cheers came from the ground as Estela put her sword to his throat.


    "It''s over!" said Davian. "The fight is over! Estela Vortegex has won!"


    The crowds went wild. Relma frowned. "That was hardly fair."


    "Everyone else has had years of experience or magical powers," said Fayn. "I think using a cloak to blind your opponent is fair."


    "He let her rise to her feet when she knocked him prone," said Relma. "I don''t see why she couldn''t have returned the favor."


    "I imagine the money might have something to do with the fact," said Fayn.


    "Possibly," admitted Relma. She was going to have to ask Estela about this later. This, technically-not-cheating was getting out of hand.

 Chapter 218 - Twenty-Six: Conspiracy of Vengeance

    William was furious.


    He''d had the tournament in hand. He could have won and should have. In skill at arms and strength, he was stronger than Estela. But she had all but cheated, and the crowd had cheered. Nearly a month of desperate labor and battles in the darkest parts of Antion. There had been ceaseless toil healing, and this was how he was repaid?


    To be cheated out of rightful victory by that upstart Princess? By all accounts, he''d won the match. But, just as several others had before him, success was stolen from them. And for what? So Escor could go to war on its own people and drive itself more into the ground. Saphra hadn''t even watched the last round, either.


    All that time coming down here. And the worst part was, Wrynncurth had yet to meet with him. William had come down here to convince him to let go of his vendetta with Tanith, but that had been finished before. More than anything now, William wanted to be back home and resting, his sores gone. A hot, decent meal without any of this excitement.


    To see Tanith and his parents again.


    But he''d have to make a return journey emptyhanded to do that, and he needed more money. And being a Paladin, he would have to stop by such villages as he had yet to visit on the way here. The plague had to be checked, and the undead numbers in Blackfear curbed more on his way through. Then there was the matter of visiting various Lords. Of ensuring all was well and writing down what was not well.


    More danger and useless toil.


    All empty-handed because Estela had cheated.


    So he paced within his pavilion as Felix stood by, arms crossed and face veiled in shadow. Varsus'' guards stood silent outside while Massacre lay belly on the ground. She was eyeing him suspiciously. William felt the chimera guess exactly what he was thinking and feeling. She probably cared little about it, though.


    Massacre was a simple creature, though by no means stupid. She''d be content wherever she could get food and music. But William could not play right now. There was an account to settle here. William reached down to scratch Massacre''s ears, the lion ones. The chimera rolled onto her belly and made a groaning noise. William began to rub her white belly before remembering he was supposed to be angry.


    "We will not let this stand," said William, throwing aside his cloak.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "I should have won that battle. Unfortunately, I did win that battle," said William.


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "I know her actions were technically legal, but a technicality is just that," said William. "Not even that. Benarus just looked the other way, like he did with everything in this ridiculous fiasco. At least when it was convenient for him.


    "No, no, I will not let it stand like this."


    "Bah," said Massacre without sympathy.


    "I''ll crush her in the melee," said William. "Completely." Why wasn''t Felix saying anything? Usually, he was the one who tried to talk him out of things.


    "Don''t kill anyone," said Felix.


    "Of course, I''m not going to kill anyone," said William. "Who do you think I am? Estela?"


    "You''re angry and bitter," said Felix. "You are in no position to make a plan right now."


    "Happily, you don''t need to," said a new voice. "I''ve already taken care of the plans."


    William looked up and saw Varsus walking into the tent. His hair was neatly combed, and he smiled. William turned to him. "Varsus, what is it?"


    "Estela has shamed our house," said Varsus. "She won her match through trickery rather than legitimate ability.


    "However, Gel Carn has chosen to let the matter pass."


    "Yes, I know," said William. "But what other choice do we have but to beat her in the melee. There is a prize in the melee for the victor. If we win there-"


    "We will have one," said Varsus. "But we will not have avenged ourselves. Estela would suffer an honorable loss. One with dignity. We do not want that.


    "She must be utterly humiliated as an example that this behavior cannot be tolerated. The honor of House Gabriel, of House De Chevlon, is at stake."


    "And what do you suggest?" asked William, not liking where this was going.


    Varsus turned around. "Follow me, and we''ll discuss it, cousin."


    William met Felix''s gaze, then followed after Varsus. Together they made their way through the tents. Eventually, they came to House De Chevlon''s pavilion. The guards were standing by there in double force. They found Saphra De Chevlon lounging in a chair, knitting as they entered. She was clad in a black dress that bared her ample cleavage. It did so even more than the previous one, and she''d painted her eyes. Her long dark hair fell all around her tanned skin while she smiled.


    "So, you''re here then, Varsus," she said. "And William Gabriel has come with you. I''m glad. I did so very much want you to be part of this conspiracy."


    "Conspiracy?" asked William.


    "Nothing illegal, of course. All perfectly legitimate," said Saphra. "Much like Estela''s victory."


    "I''ll believe that when I hear the details, Lady De Chevlon," said William, now beginning to calm himself. Felix had been right, and Saphra enjoyed every bit of chaos she could sew. "With all respect to your noble lineage."


    Saphra chuckled and arose. "Very well.


    "There are only a few others who need to arrive."


    William waited. Soon a familiar face came through the tent door, clad in white. He averted his eyes as William looked at him. "Sir Ham Hawthorne."


    "I..." Ham paused. "I wish to apologize for my earlier scorn of you. I was at least partially drunk, but that doesn''t make it right.


    "You didn''t have to heal me as you did."


    William decided there was no benefit to continuing the vendetta. In other circumstances, his father would have married into the Hawthorne family. "It is of no concern. Words are easily taken back.


    "I suggest you apologize to Lady Relma instead. She was the one that you acted against."


    "Yes, yes, I know," said Ham.


    Reginald came through the tent; next, hand clasping his sword. He smirked at he saw them and looked to have been in good humor. "And I''m here. Sorry, I''m late; my conversations with some beautiful maidens went better than expected. Are we seeking vengeance?"


    "More or less," said Varsus. "No deaths or rulebreaking."


    "Fair enough, sounds fun," said Reginald with a laugh. "Where''s Garrick?"


    "Here," said Garrick as he emerged from the shadows. He was clad in armor, and his sword was on his back.


    William was surprised by his presence. He was not one of those he''d thought to find in such a meeting. "...I was given to believe you held no grudge against Estela."


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    "I do not," said Garrick. "I respect her willingness to do whatever is necessary to get what she wants. However, I am being paid to participate in this conspiracy. My presence here is nothing personal. Merely a matter of business.


    "Knights of the Coin exist to serve the best interests of our clients. We do so regardless of personal feelings."


    "How much are you being paid?" asked Varsus.


    "Six crowns," said Garrick.


    "That''s it?" asked William.


    "I find myself rather short of money at the moment," said Garrick. "And it seemed like the in thing to do."


    "And what exactly is this conspiracy?" asked William.


    "Simple enough," said Saphra. "As soon as the tournament begins, everyone here will cooperate. We will attack Estela together all at once. Then, once she has been removed from the fight, we''ll turn our attention to the others as one.


    "Cooperating, we will win the melee.


    "We will then distribute the prize money for the melee among the participating houses. De Chevlon, Gabriel, Hawkthorne, and Estov."


    "I do not have a house. There is no nobility in Sorn," said Garrick.


    "Yes, of course, I merely put in your family name for the effect," said Saphra. "Obviously, you have a separate payment."


    "This doesn''t seem right," said Ham.


    "When have you been concerned with what''s right, Ham?" asked Reginald.


    "Just recently," admitted Ham.


    "Estela cheated against Garrick. And she cheated against dear William," said Saphra.


    "Relma and Fayn didn''t advance fairly either," noted William.


    "Yes, but they didn''t win the tournament," said Saphra.


    "If I may, Baroness De Chevlon, Estela should not be our first target," said Garrick.


    "Oh, and who would you suggest?" asked Saphra, looking up.


    "We should target Ajax first," said Garrick. "He is by far the most dangerous of the contestants who will be present. If we defeat him first, the only remaining ones will be De Cathe, Relma, Estela, and Fayn. On the other hand, if we crush Ajax quickly, they may still need to realize we are working together.


    "From there, we can work on Estela and Fayn. Finally, Relma." S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You can skip from Estela to Relma if you like." said a familiar voice.


    Fayn emerged into the room bearing a new poleaxe. Ham looked at her in surprise. "Lady Fayn? What are you doing here?"


    "I thought I might join in," said Fayn. "For part of the money."


    "You owe Lady Artorious," said Ham. "You would be hanging if she hadn''t forfeited. And you are joining up with us against her friend."


    "Yes," said Fayn. "But she broke my father''s poleaxe. So I had to get this one repaired. I was going to knock out Estela and Relma anyway. This just helps me with that. It''s not like losing the melee will hurt her any.


    "Look, this is completely legitimate. So I will make a condition that we ignore Relma in the melee. It isn''t like she''s a threat."


    "She beat you," noted Reginald.


    "Under the gaze of the Heaven''s Eye," said Fayn. "A nexus of divine energies specifically attuned to her bloodline. Of course, she''s going to win with an advantage like that.


    "Its mere presence allowed Sir Orson to kill a hundred elves at the gates of Gel Carn. To say nothing of when Anoa let the waters in.


    "This entire tournament has been rigged from start to finish. And my uncle tried to hang me just to avoid slowing it down. If I can ruin things for him by messing up Estela''s perfect features, well... why not?"


    Varsus looked at her. "...It seems we will have an overwhelming advantage."


    "No, you will not," said Ham. "I won''t have any part of this. I will go and tell them exactly what you are planning."


    "Ham, come on, we''re not breaking any rules," said Reginald.


    "Neither was Estela," said Ham.


    "Turnabout is fair play," said Reginald.


    "So said Estela," said Ham. "I''ve done enough detestable things already. I won''t do another." And he walked out.


    William glanced at Felix. "Follow him."


    Felix nodded and walked out.


    Saphra clapped with obvious sarcasm. "Well, this is excellent; we don''t have to pay House Hawkthorne."


    "Hawkthorne has a point," said William. "Couldn''t we just agree to an alliance?"


    "House Vortegex has given insult to House Gabriel," said Varsus. "There must be paid in kind."


    "I don''t think Uncle would agree with that," said William. He was beginning to think that things were going too far now that he had calmed down a bit.


    "Your Father would," said Varsus. "You cannot let people think there is no consequence to crossing you. That''s how nations fall.


    "Once it is believed a person is weak, bad actors take advantage of them. Debts need to be remembered. You must be viewed as dangerous, or you will be nothing."


    William took the point.


    He remembered Kata of the Furbearers. She had been thrown in a cell with her people and imprisoned in violation of every possible law and truce. It had been a wholly unjust war, but the Furbearers had been weak, so it hadn''t mattered. No one had any time to help them, and many did not have the inclination. If not for Tanith and William, they might have had a very grim ending.


    Although people dying in cells, languishing. Even Jehair had not been able to tolerate it and had put aside her plans to deal with it.


    Father had taught him the necessity of retribution. So it was in every successful ruler.


    "Still, this is a matter of some concern. Our enemies now know what we are doing," said Garrick.


    Saphra yawned. "Ham left too early.


    "I have certain powers of sorcery I have learned. Powers that will ensure our victory."


    "What are those?" asked William, liking this less and less.


    Saphra finished her knitting. Then they raised the violet cloth. "These are colors of Rioletta. When the wearer wills it, webs will be sent forward to tangle the one responsible. The webs that wrap around the person will cause them great agony. With these, we may take Ajax out of the fight easily."


    "And the price?" asked William.


    "Price?" asked Saphra with false innocence.


    "Rioletta is the Goddess of Weaving," said William. "Among the things she weaves is fate. There is always a price for her aid."


    "Actually, this one was already paid for," said Saphra. "You see, I performed the requested deed to gain the use of my previous scarf. Unfortunately, however, it was destroyed before I could use it for my own ends. In such situations, Rioletta offers replacement goods.


    "She''s very reasonable."


    "Meaning the price has already been paid," said Varsus.


    "Of course, it has already been paid," asked Saphra. "I wouldn''t be using infernal bargains to win a tournament. However amusing it might be."


    "The last time I accepted your colors, I nearly killed my cousin," said William.


    "Don''t worry," said Saphra. "This time, you''ll nearly kill someone you don''t like."


    "I''m not wearing it," said William.


    "You are the only one who can use it, William," said Varsus. "I have no experience with magic. But you do."


    "Just give it to me," said Fayn as she grasped it. Then she drew back her hand with a yelp. Her hand had what appeared to be a spider bite on her hand. "Ow!


    "What was that?"


    "You are in league with a fire spirit, Fayn," said Saphra. "Rioletta hates fires. They burn her webs. Also, she specifically requested William wear it.


    "I''m afraid William is the only one who can wield this thread."


    "Rioletta is as much a demon as a god," said William. "Why would she work with me? A Paladin of Elranor?" A better question might be why everyone was pressuring him into this.


    Saphra rolled her eyes. "My, someone has delusions of their own importance. In my experience, demons don''t really hate paladins all that much. On the contrary, they enjoy corrupting them far too much."


    "In your experience?" asked William.


    "I am a sorceress, dear," said Saphra. "I''ve experimented with many sources of power."


    "... Ajax''s howl may have the power to counteract the threads," said Garrick.


    "Don''t be foolish," said Saphra. "Rioletta''s threads are not so easily swayed as the winds."


    "The wind is not easily swayed," said Garrick. "It spent many years gaining the allegiance of the winds of the Dusk Lands. And the winds of the Sea of Power."


    "Well, you certainly wasted your time," said Saphra.


    "We will use the webs as a last resort," said William. "Garrick, Reginald, and Fayn should go up against Ajax. Varsus, you should deal with Relma. I will handle Estela personally."


    "What about Ham?" asked Fayn.


    "Ham might not work against us," said Reginald. "He''ll probably tell them what happened, but he won''t side against us directly. Instead, he''ll either stay neutral or join our side.


    "He does stuff like this sometimes."


    "Switches sides?" asked William.


    "Does the honorable thing when it isn''t the smart thing," said Reginald. "Usually after he''s bounced back from doing something stupid. His family isn''t exactly an honorable lot."


    "You do have a lot of faith in that drunkard, don''t you?" asked Saphra.


    "Ham won''t betray us. I promise you that," said Reginald.


    "What about what he did with Bishop Joffrey," said Varsus.


    "Joffrey had it coming," said William, remembering his behavior in Ascorn.


    "I dare say he did," said Varsus. "It still says something about our friend."


    "That was vendetta, Varsus," said Raynald. "And not the fun vendetta where everyone shakes hands at the end. Ham told me Joffrey killed a personal friend of his out of spite. And this is after selling Ascorn to the Healer''s Guild and getting mixed up with criminals.


    "We are talking about a degenerate, vile man who killed an innocent old woman out of spite. This after letting the plague spread through the streets. And Ham only went after him when he tried to enslave the population of Blackfear. Ham picked the right moment, the bastard had it coming, and Cirithil is out of the game these days, anyway.


    "This isn''t even in the same ballpark as Cirithil.


    "Don''t get me wrong, I''m unhappy about Estela doing this. But it''s all in good fun. What the priesthood did was pure heresy."


    William nodded. "I agree with Reginald.


    "The two situations aren''t even remotely comparable. If they were, this tournament wouldn''t be the correct place to hash them out. I think I''ve been too harsh on Ham so far. I must have encountered him on that roadside during a dark period in his life. And he did save many people by his actions." He sighed. "But you''re right, Varsus.


    "We''re going to win the melee."


    William grasped the colors and tied them on his arm. Once again, he felt the presence, but this time he knew it for what it was. He felt like a fly, caught upon thousands of webs. Webs that stretched across the entire world, trapping every living creature.


    They were all trapped in the web. And now he saw her, or perhaps her shadow. A spider, yet he saw the upper body of a human in place of the face. He gripped the colors, closed his eyes, and focused.


    When he opened them again, the webs had departed.


    William untied the colors, folded them, and set them into one of his pockets. Varsus looked at him. "Well?"


    "I can do it," said William.


    It was time to repay Estela''s actions in kind.

 Chapter 219 - Twenty-Seven: The Informant

    Relma found Estela visiting Frederick soon after. It was within their pavilion, laid aside at Benarus'' expense. Frederick and Ronald had been given wine and servants to see to them. Relma thought this wise of Benarus. During the tournament, Relma had heard stories from Ronald of his adventures. They''d hunted much undead and saved the life of William and Felix, along with a famous druid called Jehair.


    They''d also rescued many people who had been taken by slaving mercenaries from Sorn. No one was sure about the details, but William maintained it was the High Priest. Relma could simply not believe this, however, and neither had Ronald. You didn''t become a High Priest of Elranor without some faith, and no one with any faith would do such a thing.


    Either way, the knight was still being forced to spend a lot of time in bed by Aunt Pan. As it turned out, he was sleeping, and Estela was sitting there. Ronald was washing his hands while standing guard a little way off.


    "Estela, I need to talk to you," said Relma.


    Estela looked up in surprise. "What is it?"


    "I..." Relma didn''t want to say this. But she had to. "Well, honestly, how you won the tournament was wrong."


    "What?" said Estela, staring at her.


    "You didn''t break any rules," said Relma. "But you flouted every courtesy and tradition. Against Garrick, it was understandable; he''d already broken them. But William didn''t cheat or anything. You broke tradition simply because you didn''t like him."


    "I didn''t have a choice," said Estela.


    "You could have lost the tournament," said Relma. "It would have been an honorable match."


    There was silence for a moment.


    "...I need the money, Relma," said Estela with a sigh. "My family needs the money. We''ve had to raise several armies in the past decades, and the crown is virtually bankrupt. And now Stormstrike in eastern Escor is planning something.


    "We may be in league with the Dragon Empire.


    "With the money I won from the tournament, we could pay off our debts and refill the treasury. I must win this, or my family could fall from power."


    "Oh, well, that''s a good reason," admitted Relma. "Still, maybe you should explain yourself to William. It wouldn''t be a good idea to have a vendetta between Vortegex and Gabriel."


    "I don''t need to justify myself to him," said Estela. "Do you know what his allies did in the Escorian Civil War? What Arraxia and the Dust Elves? And all in a war House Gabriel started."


    "Maybe he needed the money as well?" said Relma. "Did you ever consider that?"


    Before Estela could answer, the door opened. She looked up to where a man was entering. "Yes?"


    Ham Hawkthorne entered the room. Estela stood up in anger. "Sir Ham Hawkthorne. What do you want?"


    Ham looked different. He bowed his head. "I''ve come to apologize for my previous behavior. I was cowardly, ungrateful, and horrible. I am... ashamed of my previous actions."


    "Don''t worry about it. I forgive you," said Relma.


    "He tried to cleave in your skull from behind," said Estela.


    "Well, yes, that was pretty bad," said Relma. "But he apologized. And he seems pretty genuine." She looked back to Ham. It wasn''t like she got anything out of holding a grudge here. "Why were you so upset about losing anyway?"


    Ham shifted. "My father, he is a mighty lord. But he''s been ridiculed for never taking the field of battle. He doesn''t regard combat as anything glorious. But men say that House Hawkthorne are weak merchants who advance only by marrying well.


    "I fought alongside Reginald to try and gain recognition for my deeds. But when I returned, I..."


    "Yes?" said Relma.


    "A number of my father''s business partners in Sorn cheated him," said Ham. "He lost a great deal of money and has debts to repay. I hoped to win this tournament and pay off those debts.


    "Instead, I ended up being bailed out by Reginald.


    "I''m sorry."


    "Sound familiar, Estela?" asked Relma, looking at her.


    Estela shifted. "...Alright, point taken. Is there anything else?"


    "I also have a warning for Lady Estela," said Ham.


    "What is it?" asked Estela, looking eager for it to end.


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    "House Gabriel and House De Chevlon, as well as several others. They could have agreed to unite during the melee," said Ham. "They plan to beat you into the ground and then split the difference.


    "And I will be standing with them."


    "Then why are you warning us?" asked Relma.


    "It wouldn''t be fair," said Ham. "I already tried cheating once; I''m not going to do it again. It would be sinking back to my previous level."


    "You could side with us," said Relma.


    "I already owe Reginald a debt for bailing me out of prison," said Ham. "And the De Chevlons are considering paying off my father''s debts for him.


    "It may not be right, but I must pick a side.


    "I choose my allies."


    Relma remained silent for a moment. "...Thank you, Ham."


    Ham nodded. "Milady."


    Then he turned and walked out. Estela clasped her hands together and leaned back. "...Well, we''ll have to do something about this. Frederick is still too weak to fight. That means it will be you, me, and Ajax against Varsus, William, Reginald, and Ham. If we could get Fayn and Garrick on our side-"


    Ham walked back in. Estela looked up. "Yes?"


    "Sorry, I forgot to mention," said Ham. "Garrick is in Saphra De Chevlon''s pay; she hired him with a promise for part of the winnings. And Fayn is on their side as well.


    "Good day." Then he walked out again.


    Estela sighed. "...We''re doomed."


    "We could always just forfeit," said Relma. "We''ve already won the tournament. Then they''d just have to fight each other." sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Out of the question," said Estela. "The honor of House Vortegex is on the line. Why did De Cathe have to go off the Black Marshes like that? If he were here, this would be far easier."


    "I could choose a substitute," blurted Frederick.


    Estela looked up at him. His eyes were open. "What?"


    "When a knight cannot fight in the melee because of injury. It is a tradition that they can choose a substitute to take their place," said Frederick. "I will choose Ronald to act in my stead. He proved himself in the Raishan War.


    "With his help, you may stand a chance."


    "Maybe," said Relma. "Ajax will want to go after Garrick for a rematch. He took his loss personally."


    Estela shook her head. "That will lead to a stalemate between them, and we''ll be cleaned up. "Okay, Relma, talk to Ajax. Ask him to go directly after Ham once the fight starts. We''ll want him knocked out quickly. That will leave us even in number. Then he can take care of Garrick while we deal with the others.


    "Ronald should go with Varsus since Varsus is a defensive specialist. You deal with Fayn, and I''ll handle Gabriel."


    "What is Fayn doing with them?" wondered Relma.


    "Trying to get revenge on you," said Estela.


    "Well, that''s the obvious answer. But we called a truce," said Relma.


    "She said she called a truce," said Estela.


    "I don''t know," admitted Relma. "I think she has something else planned. Maybe she''s planning to backstab them or something."


    "Maybe, maybe not," said Estela. "Either way, we''re assuming that she''s not on our side.


    "Do you think you could ask Lady Pandora for aid?"


    Relma considered it. "I could talk to her about it," she said after a moment.


    Later in her house, Aunt Pan did not look up from her knitting. For a moment, she remained silent, needles moving rapidly. Then, finally, she looked up. "No."


    "What do you mean, no?" asked Relma.


    "I mean no, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "I told you before, I would help you get into the tournament to win or lose as you could on your own. But, I''m not going to balance the scales in your favor."


    "But why not?" asked Relma. "House Gabriel will be doing exactly the same thing!"


    "True," conceded Aunt Pan. "But then, they have a vested interest in this tournament is won. I don''t. Whoever wins the melee is of no concern to me. Estela already has the money she needs."


    "Well, yes, but if she wins the prize for the melee, she''ll have even more," said Relma. It sounded weak, even to her.


    "Why do you think Varsus came down here in the first place?" asked Aunt.


    "Hmm?" said Relma.


    "Varsus is the heir to Brisgald," said Aunt Pan. "A significant person in House Gabriel. He didn''t come down here purely to fight a tournament. Escor is a concern to everyone in Harlenor. If it falls into chaos, the Dragon Empire could break through the Pass of Dragon Bones."


    "What''s the Pass of Dragon Bones?" asked Relma.


    "A strategic location in Southern Escor," said Aunt Pan. "Very difficult to move an army through."


    In any case, I can''t take a side even if I want to. I am Lady Pandora. My great advantage is existing outside of politics. Every time I involve myself, I become committed.


    "If I were to provide your side with the means to victory, other people would start asking. The melee needs to be more important for me to get involved. At worst, House Vortegex will owe House Gabriel or De Chevlon a favor."


    "What does that mean?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan sighed. "Relma, House De Chevlon has grown rich on the slave trade. And House Gabriel is catching up to them with their malas riches. Do you really think they will let House Vortegex fall for the sake of some generations-old grudge? When could their replacement be an empire of firebreathing lizards? One who would devour whole flocks?"


    Relma considered that. "...No."


    "Exactly," said Aunt Pan. "No.


    "I''ve been negotiating with Varsus and Saphra De Chevlon. All while they were here under the pretext of joining the tournament.


    "But Estela has thrown the entire plan into disarray. The way things are going now, House Vortegex isn''t going to owe House Gabriel or De Chevlon anything."


    "So you didn''t want Estela to win?" asked Relma.


    "Don''t be absurd," said Aunt Pan. "We''d much prefer House Vortegex independent from House Gabriel. It will make the succession far easier to manage. Also, bringing Escor into the fold will be much easier.


    "But having Escor being indebted to House Gabriel would likely be the death knell to your chances. Ascending the throne would become nearly impossible for you at that point. We''d need to wait for a generation, at least.


    "Even then, Vanion and his heirs might be too competent and could be another age. Chances to reinstall royal bloodlines don''t come about often."


    "So why don''t you want us to win?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan shrugged. "House Gabriel and De Chevlon hold grudges. They perceive that they''ve been wronged. So now they want to get back at House Vortegex. So let them.


    "If their vengeance is defeating Estela three-on-one without anyone dying... So be it. It is definitely preferable to war or a more severe conflict. None of them are wicked enough to deliberately kill or permanently injure her. Estela suffering the consequences of her actions might be a good experience. She''s far too reckless for her own good. And she did do a great deal to earn their ire.


    "Conversely, if you knock them out, they''ll stew over their losses. They may then do something spiteful and dangerous.


    "I''d much rather have things end in the tournament."


    Relma felt annoyed at this. Just who was Aunt Pan to tell her how the others would react. She could win and make this work and not have a grudge seething afterward. She''d prove it. "Well, I''m going to try and win this melee all the same."


    "That is your choice, of course," said Aunt Pan.


    Relma turned around and walked out. She should have known they''d have to handle this on their own.

 Chapter 220 - Twenty-Eight: The Melee

    Ronald looked pretty good in his armor. The white cloak of Sir Frederick allowed him to cut a dashing figure for a halfing. But, unfortunately, he also looked very nervous, looking out over the cheering crowds. Ronald was also aware of this fact.


    Relma thought he might be more prepared than her, though. So she technically didn''t even qualify. Actually, most people in the tournament had yet to qualify. This could have boded better.


    He glanced at Sir Frederick, who had been allowed to sit in the stands. "Are you sure about this, Sir Frederick?"


    "I am," said Frederick. "You more than proved yourself in Khasmir and Blackfear, Ronald. I am not expecting you to win. Merely represent me with the bravery and skill befitting your station."


    "I''m afraid I''ll fail at that," said Ronald.


    "Nonsense," said Frederick. "Just keep Varsus occupied long enough for the other battles to finish. That is all you need to do."


    Ronald nodded. "...Alright."


    Relma looked away from Ronald to where William and Estela glared at one another. William''s sword was drawn, his hands were clasped over it, and his shield was lying by him. On his arms was a new violet scarf, and Relma hoped this one didn''t have any enchantments on it. Estela sat a little away, sharpening her blade, eyes hardly leaving her enemy.


    "Are you ready for this, Estela?" asked Relma.


    Estela looked up. "As ready as I''ll ever be."


    Relma looked over to her other side, where Ajax stood on one hand. His hair was hanging down low, and his clawed hands were flexing. "Ajax, what about you?"


    Ajax let himself down and put himself into a cross-legged position. "Garrick is not going to know what hit him. I live for this. You try to survive until I''ve taken down the others."


    Reginald and Varsus were a little beyond William. Beyond them was Saphra, who was knitting. Then there was Garrick, who appeared to be meditating. Ham was pacing back and forth, shield slung over his back. And Fayn was testing the weight of her claymore.


    The wait ended.


    Davian came forward, and the crowds cheered. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the melee event!" The cheers grew even louder. "Today, we do not have a free for all! But a full-scale battle! Two sides gathered to determine the strongest! In the one corner, House Gabriel, House De Chevlon, and their allies!"


    Those named stood and went forward into the ring to rising cheers. Relma hoped Ham did better in this round than in his last fight. Then again, if he did, it wouldn''t be to her benefit.


    "And in the other corner, the Heir of Kings and she assembled disciples!" cried Davian.


    Relma sighed. They rose up and walked out to meet their enemy. As they did, Estela sheathed her sword.


    "I wish he wouldn''t keep calling us that," said Estela under her breath.


    "It''s just drama." said Frederick as they passed him ." Don''t pay it any mind."


    Estela stopped and looked at him. "Don''t you really like that nonsense?"


    "To a point," admitted Frederick. "I use it because it helps with my image. I''m not the strongest person in this tournament. But they believe I am because I put forth an image well and pick my battles."


    "But you would have beaten Varsus," said Ronald.


    "Well, I confess, I am one of the strongest," said Frederick. "Do me proud, Ronald Fulsof."


    And out they went. They assembled across the ring, and then they waited. There was a sound of drums beating, and Relma wondered how they would win. If, she reminded herself if they would win.


    Ajax and Garrick were equally matched. Ronald might be able to stalemate Varsus if they were lucky. Estela was a bit below William. That left Relma to fight Fayn, Ham, and Reginald. There was no, if at all. Unless Relma''s suspicions were correct, this bout was already lost.


    "Keep your backs to each other," said Estela. "If we stay tight, they won''t be able to come on us from multiple sides."


    "Then Fayn will just use her fire whip," noted Relma.


    "Oh," said Estela.


    "Let the combat begin!" cried Davian.


    The two sides ran toward each other. Once again, Relma felt that peculiar sense of detachment as she ran forward. And then several things happened very quickly.


    Fayn summoned a whip of flame into her sword and lashed out with it. But it caught Reginald in the back. The orange-haired De Chevlon screamed in pain and fell forward into the dirt. Fayn lashed out again at Ham, but he warded off the assault with his shield.


    "Reginald!" cried Ham.


    The De Chevlon''s and Gabriel''s fell into chaos. Ronald rushed at Varsus and met him in a flurry of blows. Varsus seemed to be having the better of it with precise defenses. William and Estela met sword to sword once more, and once again, William seemed the master. Relma brought her sword toward Ham, who blocked the stroke and drove her back.


    "Contract breaker!" roared Garrick in fury as he charged toward Fayn. Where was Ajax?


    In a moment, Relma had no time to think. She was being driven back by Ham. This was not the angry, overconfident, and slightly inebriated Ham before. He had, apparently, turned over a new leaf. And that was not good for her.


    Relma quickly found herself fighting to stay in the tournament. Her shield was bashed from her grip, and she felt her arm wrench. She fell to one knee and parried a stroke from Ham, only for him to twist his blade and send hers flying.


    Taking a chance, she rolled past him and snatched up her blade. As she did, time seemed to slow down.


    Then she saw Garrick. He was assailing Fayn with vicious strokes. Their swords were moving faster by the moment. And yet Fayn was losing badly. She already had several major wounds. Moreover, her flames were useless against Garrick''s winds. Then she was thrown down, and Garrick raised his sword to kill her.


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    Relma rushed forward, Lightning Trail in hand. As she did, she felt that same battle she''d had when beneath the Heaven''s Eye. She interposed herself between Garrick''s blow and brought up the sword. Their blades met, and there was a flash.


    Relma was forced to one knee, and Garrick staggered back. He recovered quickly and glared in a fury. "Step aside, or you will join this heretic in death. Those who violate contracts deserve no mercy."


    "Aren''t you overreacting a little?" asked Relma.


    "No," said Garrick.


    He swung his sword again, and this time when Relma met it, she was also thrown down. Again, the wind howled as he spun the blade and brought it down for the finishing blow!


    And then Ajax was there. He landed on the flat of Garrick''s blade and kicked him in the face. Garrick fell backward, landing as Ajax landed on one hand and caught Garrick''s blade in one hand.


    Bringing it around, he plunged it two feet into the ground next to where Garrick was lying. "Get up, Dust Elf," said Ajax. "I won''t let my glory be stolen by a surprise attack."


    Garrick grasped the sword and pulled himself up, bleeding from the mouth. Relma looked to Ajax. "Where were you?"


    "Oh," said Ajax, "waiting for the most dramatic moment.


    "Remind me what happened the last time you tried this, Relma?"


    "Thanks, Ajax," said Relma.


    "Thank him after you are yet alive," said Garrick. "Winds of the Dusk Lands! Gusts of the Sea of Power! I command you!"


    Ajax met him in battle. Wolf and wind clashed again as the power of Ajax''s howling drove away the wind.


    Relma turned to Fayn and helped her up. "Fayn, you should get out of the arena. Now."


    "Hardly," scoffed Fayn, readying her blade. "I''m going to win."


    And then Ham was on her, attacking her in a fury. Her sword and his were a blur as they closed. Why was Ham so furious? And why hadn''t he interfered earlier?


    Relma looked where he had come from and saw Reginald. Moving over to him, she kneeled and realized how pale he looked. Then, setting a hand on one armored shoulder, she tried to heal him. Only then did she realize how weak he was?


    Fayn''s surprise attack would kill him if Relma didn''t do something.


    So she focused on healing his injury. Restoring burnt flesh. Mending wounds.


    As she did, she felt like she was something greater. Something was looking down on the tournament from above. She saw William and Estela fighting it out, and William was having the best of it. He''d broken her shield and had not cast aside his own. It was all Estela could do to hold out.


    Ronald and Varsus were still dueling, but Ronald was being demolished. Varsus made small strokes, deliberately baiting him and delivering minor wounds. It was clear Ronald would be the loser here. Varsus was just better.


    Ham was demolishing Fayn. He''d taken her off guard and wasn''t letting up for a moment. As Relma saw him kick her in the chest and send her reeling, she reflected that Fayn probably deserved it. Yes, her actions were to Relma''s benefit, but they''d still been wrong. She could have just declared for Relma.


    And then there was Garrick and Ajax. They were going at it with clear bloodlust. Both had dealt with the other several wounds. The winds howled like a razor, but Ajax howled in turn. No doubt, the crowd was enjoying the spectacle.


    Where should Relma logically go next in this tournament once she healed Reginald?


    If. If she healed Reginald. He was stable, but she didn''t like leaving him out here. So, reaching down, she pulled him over one shoulder and carried him gradually out of the ring. His weight was immense, and she nearly stumbled as he did. Then she turned to where Varsus was on the verge of beating Ronald.


    Raising Lightning Trail, Relma rushed toward Varsus with a battle cry. He brought her sword around.


    Varsus turned his own blade and disarmed her. Then, with a twist, he slammed her in the forehead with the pommel of his sword. As Relma hit the ground, she reflected that she should have seen that coming. But judging from how Ronald started attacking, she seemed to have done some good.


    The pain hit her.


    Ow.


    Looking at Garrick and Ajax, she saw they were mustering themselves for a final strike. Suddenly Relma was no longer looking at their flesh but at their spirits. She saw Garrick as a shadow, cold and dark. And Ajax was light incarnate, burning all who gazed on them. The two opposites surged toward one another, and she saw the wind spirits with Garrick. They were horrible to behold; their fangs bared.


    The two met. Light and shadow met and struggled.


    Then they passed each other. Ajax landed on his feet, then stumbled forward to one knee. Garrick stood tall for a moment, leaning his blade on one shoulder. Then he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.


    Ajax glanced back and smiled.


    Then Relma saw the flesh again. Fayn had recovered somewhat from her previous fighting. She was now fighting evenly with Ham. Both were furious and intent on defeating each other. So intent, they didn''t react in time when Ajax surged toward them. With two strikes of his legs, he sent both sprawling with his hands, claws at their throats.


    From there, he rose and rushed toward Varsus, who even now had his blade to Ronald''s throat. The blonde knight reacted quickly and began to parry Ajax''s onslaught. For a moment, they fought back and forth as Varsus yielded ground. Then they slowed to a halt, and Varsus stabbed at Ajax. His blade nicked his left shoulder, but Ajax caught him in the neck and forced him to the ground.


    "I yield," said Varsus.


    Ajax arose and looked to William. Estela had lost now. Her blade was on the ground, and her enemy''s sword was at her throat. Ajax howled in triumph and rushed at a weakened William. But William ducked low and smashed his shield into Ajax as he came. They tumbled over each other, grappling. The sword was thrown from William''s hand, but he drew a knife, and soon he and Ajax were locked in a death grip.


    Relma stood up painfully as William was thrown off. Ajax arose and charged at him.


    And then came the whispers. Everything slowed, and Relma saw the scarf around William''s arm begin to pulse as he focused his will. The world suddenly seemed to be shrouded in innumerable spider webs. With each breath they took, billions of threads were severed. And billions were spun. Many possibilities that could have been were gone, and many that could never have existed opened.


    The strands of fate. You could look at them for centuries and not understand even one person''s future. But she could see her own strands and saw they led in one direction. Whatever she did, whatever she sought, her path was preordained. All her efforts would lead to a singular event in many possible ways.


    It would occur by her hand or the hand of a descendant. Baltoth would die. Harlenor Reunited would come to pass as had been prophesied. But how it happened was in her power to choose. But not just her. It was in the hands of everyone. In the hands of Varsus, William, Reginald, every living creature...


    Even Baltoth himself.


    The future was set. But how it was defined was their privilege to choose.


    But for now, new threads were spun for a different purpose. Rioletta''s will was sent forth into the threads themselves. They appeared around Ajax, slowing him, trying to bind him in place. He struggled in them as William snatched up his sword and rushed at him.


    William was about to set his blade to Ajax''s throat. Then Ajax howled. It was louder and more furious than before. The rage of a cornered animal that knows its fate but will not submit without a fight. The crowd shrieked in terror; some ran screaming, clutched their ears, and fell to the ground.


    But William did not.


    The threads were broken. Ajax surged forward and bowled William over. The two tumbled down, and then Ajax fell limp to the ground. William''s blade was in his chest.


    Cheers came from the crowd as they came back. Relma felt sick.


    "Quiet!" snarled Relma. "Haven''t you people had your fill of death with all the wars! Now it comes to this celebration, and you cheered for it! You should be ashamed!" The words did not seem her own. She ran over to Ajax and kneeled by him. His face was pale, and his eyes were afraid. He was not breathing.


    William came by him. "I... I did not mean to kill him. I tried to move my blade, but when he fell, he... it ended up in him... I..."


    No.


    Relma drew out the blade. She looked at the black weapon, a terrible thing bathed in the blood of wicked creatures. It was bound to its wielder and had taken on traits of those he had fought. But it did not reflect him fully.


    She set down the blade and set her hands on Ajax''s chest. Then, closing her eyes, she saw that a claw had severed the strands of fate. This was no longer a person but an object. His spirit was gone, drifting off into its next life.


    Relma called it back.


    The threads of fate had been severed. She took them up and set them back in place. This body was no long Ajax but an object of meat and bone. Relma breathed back life into it.


    Ajax''s eyes turned to her. "Relma..."


    "Idiot," said Relma. "You should have worn armor." And then she began to shudder as her vision blurred and everything went black... S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 221 - Twenty-nine: Rebirth

    Relma felt like she was falling through an endless void of nothingness. Her body, if she had one, she was numb and unfeeling, yet she felt more than ever. As if she was more herself in the nothingness than she ever had been amidst everything else. Or perhaps she merely felt who she was now that it had all been stripped from her.


    As she opened her eyes, she wished something more was around her. She did not need it; she could exist here as the only being for eternity. But she desired things other than herself.


    Into the darkness came light. A great light emanated from her in an all-encompassing wave. When it faded, there was a world around her.


    And then she awoke. Her eyes opened blearily, and she saw Aunt Pan sitting over her knitting. She felt detached again. Relma had a splitting headache on some level, but it didn''t bother her on another. "Aunt Pan?"


    "Well, you are lucky to awaken," said Aunt Pan, not looking up. "After what you did."


    Relma''s mind was a blur. "What did I do?"


    "You brought back the dead," said Aunt Pan. "Not an impossible task, given it was a recent death. But a very difficult one and generally not worth the effort. People are usually back in a generation anyway under a new name.


    "I''ve only done it once or twice."


    "Oh, come on, you could at least pretend as though I did something remarkable," said Relma, more herself now.


    "You did do something remarkable," said Aunt Pan. "And you did it very well and in the perfect context. Gel Carn is positively abuzz with rumors of your nature. But, if I were you, I shouldn''t try anything like that again."


    "Why not?" asked Relma.


    "The universe tends to even itself out," said Aunt Pan. "Pull the threads of fate one way, and you mess with other stories. That is why a subtle touch is best."


    "Are you saying I should have let Ajax stay dead?" asked Relma.


    "Of course not," said Aunt Pan. "While there might be a price to pay, it won''t be nearly as bad as it could have been. You see, you were willing to give up your life."


    "What?" said Relma.


    "When you defeated Fayn, you fully believed her guilty," said Aunt Pan. "But you willingly went to what you believed would be your death solely to save her and Ronald. Of course, we didn''t allow it, but you did not know that.


    "Magic is a strange thing, Relma. It is based on the soul of the one who uses it. The power does not come from some magical spring within you. It comes from who you are. Deals with spirits are merely one way to channel it.


    "In giving up your life, metaphorically speaking, you were able to draw back the life of another."


    "Somehow, I don''t think I''ll be able to go around bringing people back," said Relma.


    "Of course not." scoffed Pan. "This was a miracle, not healing magic."


    "What''s the difference?" asked Relma, feeling she already knew the answer.


    "Healing magic is inspiring the elements within the world to restore the body," said Aunt Pan. "Taking the power inherent to yourself and others and bringing it into play. A miracle is when a force outside the normal order intervenes to perform a wondrous deed.


    "The former is business as usual for some people. The latter is never routine."


    "So how did I perform it?" asked Relma.


    "Another, greater force worked through you," said Aunt Pan. "Quite frankly, I''m very well pleased with how things turned out.


    "The Tournament of Kings is a beginning of sorts. And in my experience, the beginning of things almost always foreshadows the end. A reign that begins in blood will end with blood. However, a reign that has its source saving lives will end far better."


    "And how did this beginning rank?" asked Relma.


    "Well, as far as I can tell, it sets some very hopeful trends," said Aunt Pan. "It shows that you willingly take on the punishments of the unworthy of saving them. It demonstrates that your focus will be on saving others. This foreshadows the healing of old wounds, as opposed to the dealing of death.


    "All hopeful signs. For a holy man. I''m not sure it will translate well into a King."


    "I will be King, and I''ll end the hatred between the nobles," said Relma. "I''ll establish friendship where before there was hatred. I''ll make peace with all my neighbors and help people. And I''ll only fight to defend, never to attack."


    "All admirable desires, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "But I don''t think you''ll manage it. Power ruins everyone who gets it. Some more than others. But no one remains wholly good when they have it."


    Relma shook her head. "I will show you, Aunt Pan." And she stood up and began to get dressed at once. "Where are William and Estela?"


    Pan put down her knitting. "When last I heard, William has been tending to the sick and injured and playing the harp for that beast when he is not. He seems quite intent on overshadowing you."


    "And Estela?" asked Relma.


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    "Training with Ajax in one of the courtyards at the moment," said Aunt Pan. "She''s been helping him with the sword."


    "Have they reconciled?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan shook her head. Relma finished getting dressed and walked to the door. "I''m going to go see them."


    Relma found Ajax and Estela in the training yard. Both were wielding swords, and Estela seemed to be instructing him. She was probably doing a lot better job of it than Relma had. "Two, three, four, good. You''re getting better. Relma really didn''t do an excellent job of teaching you."


    "Not very surprising," said Ajax.


    "Well, that''s some thank you, Ajax," said Relma coming forward.


    Ajax looked up and smiled. "Relma, you''re awake. Are you alright?"


    "I''m fine; I just have a headache," said Relma, rubbing her head. "Estela, I need to talk to you about William."


    "What about him?" asked Estela, sheathing her sword. "He''s spent the past few days healing every sick and injured person he can find. People called him one of your disciples, and he flatly denied it."


    "Well, that''s to be expected. William wants to be a messiah himself," said Relma.


    Estela looked at her oddly. "What do you mean?"


    "He feels obligated to seek glory and power for his house," said Relma. "He feels obligated to help others as a Paladin of Elranor. Becoming a messiah who brings salvation to the people is the perfect way to do that."


    "Nothing he said gave me that impression," said Estela.


    "Of course not; he hasn''t fully realized it himself," said Relma. "He thinks he is just putting on appearances to increase the glory of his house. But the appearance you put on often becomes true in your own mind."


    "You seem different," said Estela.


    Relma was a bit too certain in what she was saying. "Maybe I am.


    "At any rate, Estela, I need you to reconcile with William. If House Vortegex and House Gabriel are at each other''s throats, it could cause many problems."


    "He broke my sword and my shield," said Estela. "I''m going to have to have it reforged."


    "And he nearly killed me," said Ajax. "He did kill me."


    "But he only did it because of the underhanded way you won, Estela," said Relma. "And Ajax, going into a tournament where people use real weapons with no armor, was not a good idea. You could have just as easily killed him in that melee.


    "Fayn nearly killed Reginald, and that was deliberate. No one is complaining about that."


    "Garrick did," noted Estela.


    "I go into battle with no armor," said Ajax, apparently uninterested in Fayn.


    "Yes, but in battle, you are allowed to cheat," said Relma. "You can ambush and trick. Here the expectation is fair play."


    "I told you I needed the money," said Estela. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "And you have it," said Relma. "It can''t hurt to reconcile with an enemy and part in friendship. Or at least not parting in bitter hatred."


    "Since when do you have authority over me?" asked Estela with an edge in her tone.


    "I''m not commanding you to do anything," said Relma. "I''m merely telling you that William is a bad person to have as an enemy. And you two really should be friends. But, unfortunately, you''re far more alike than either of you want to admit."


    Estela remained silent for a long moment. "...Alright, I''ll find him and apologize before he goes."


    Ajax sniffed. "What happened to you? Your scent is different."


    "I don''t know," admitted Relma. "I feel as though who I usually am is the surface of what I am. When I brought you back, I think more of myself emerged. It''s sort of fading away now.


    "What was it like, being dead?" Somehow, Relma thought she already knew.


    "Strange," said Ajax. "I felt I was between several worlds. An eternal wildland on the one side and a great palace on the other. And then, dimly, I saw a soothing light.


    "Then I was drawn back by the threads of a spider. It was furious, I could tell. I could see its children scuttling around me, weaving new threads. But they weren''t the same as the old ones."


    "Do you know what happened to the scarf that William used?" asked Relma.


    "He gave it back to the Baroness," said Estela. "And thanked her quite politely. Then he split the loot, just like had been planned."


    "And Garrick?" asked Relma.


    "He left after the tournament," said Estela. "He tried to challenge Fayn to a duel of honor. But Benarus dismissed the cause as frivolous.


    "See, Garrick wasn''t the one who was betrayed. Saphra was. And she apparently found it hilarious."


    "Her cousin was nearly burned to death!" said Relma. What was wrong with Saphra? What, was she a demon in human form? That actually seemed more likely than she would like to admit. She was from a family of vampires.


    "Yes, she found it funny," said Ajax.


    "I think she found it funny that people think she should care," said Estela.


    There was silence between them for a moment. Something occurred to Relma. "...Can I ask you something, Ajax?"


    "Of course," said Ajax.


    "Why did your father agree to shelter Ronald in the first place?" asked Relma. She suspected she knew the answer.


    "...I may have asked him to do it on your behalf," said Ajax.


    "Thank you, Ajax," said Relma.


    "It''s not a problem," said Ajax.


    And then Ronald rushed into the training yard. He was wearing ordinary clothes rather than armor. But he hugged her. "Relma!"


    "What is it?" said Relma.


    "Sir Frederick says he plans to head to Escor as soon as he is well," said Ronald. "He means to take me with him. We''re to represent Gel Carn in the coming wars."


    "Oh, that''s good," said Relma.


    "But it gets better. Sir Varsus and Reginald have also agreed to come," said Ronald. "They mean to take their personal forces to aid House Vortegex. They don''t want the Dragon Empire to expand either."


    "Well then, it looks like I''ll be alone for a while," said Relma.


    At that moment, William entered the training fields. He was clad in his armor, but his helm was held under one arm. His hair had fallen around his shoulders. With him were Massacre and Felix. He approached in swift strides and bowed slightly.


    "Lady Relma," he said.


    "William?" asked Relma. "What are you doing here?"


    "I heard you had awoken," said William. "I came to say goodbye. Felix and I will be leaving tomorrow morning. I''ve healed most of the people in this area; I plan to start working on the other areas on my way back."


    "That''s good to know. I''m sure the people appreciate your efforts," said Relma.


    "It is my responsibility to aid my House''s reputation," said William.


    Estela stepped forward. "Sir Gabriel?"


    "Yes?" said William.


    Their gaze met. Finally, Estela spoke. "...I wish to apologize for my underhanded methods in our battle. And I would take back my words in the tent."


    "As would I," said William, too quickly to be genuine. "Ajax, are you well?"


    "Better than ever," said Ajax. "I mean, we both know I won that match. Lucky for you, I don''t care about money or pride. Putting on a good show is enough for me."


    "Perhaps," said William. "It was a good match against both of you. But, Lady Estela, I would offer you this." He motioned to Felix, who brought forward a small chest.


    Estela took it. "What is it?"


    "Compensation for the armor and weapons I destroyed," said William. "I fear I sometimes don''t know my own strength."


    "Thank you," said Estela.


    William bowed slightly, then turned away, his cloak flying around him. "Come, Felix. We have plans to make."


    And he was gone.


    "See?" said Relma. "Wasn''t that better than eternal hatred?"


    "Yes, you''ve made your point," said Estela. "Listen, Relma, how would you feel about becoming my squire? It''ll give you a good reason to go with me to Escor. You could get some more experience there."


    "Of course," said Relma.


    Estela looked annoyed. "...You realize this is a great honor, don''t you?"


    "Right, of course," said Relma, bowing her head. "I''m deeply honored, Princess Estela, that you would-"


    "Forget it," said Estela before looking away. "It''s strange. It''s only been a few days. But it seems like everything had already changed."


    "Everything shifts, Estela. Let''s just hope we''re shifting in the right direction," said Relma.

 Chapter 222 - Epilogue: True Faces

    And all the while, fires burned eternally and without a source.


    Lucius reflected that his illegitimate children ought to become a bit more reflective. Even destructive impulses could be channeled through meditation. And nightmarish hellscapes could be overdone. Though their enthusiasm was to be appreciated. Yes, satyrs were not what civilized folk could call pleasant, but there was a lot of heart there.


    Far more than can be said for those insufferable elves. Their most recent stunt in Antion was a testament to it. He''d had to channel many satyrs to that location to disrupt things enough to salvage events. Even so, they''d managed to gain ground, though at least their corruption was revealed.


    Eventually, he found the best of them, where he usually did.


    Melchious looked out over the pools of boiling blood, a satisfied expression on his face. He had taken his human form at the moment, but it was twisted to hurt the eyes of any mortal who looked upon it. He''d always preferred being human once he''d reascended after his reincarnation. Very beautiful and fair with an edge of danger.


    Personally, Lucius had always thought this dreadfully tacky. Indeed, the bared and chiseled abs were overdone.


    For his part, Lucius had spent ages as a cloaked figure with a void under his hood. It was both unsettling and convenient. And it lacked nausea that came with the form of a living corpse. But Melchious was young and liked appearing very fine.


    Who was he trying to impress? He did have a tendency to work with beautiful female demonesses. But Melchious had never been one for romance. His passions were wholly confined to his work.


    Even in mortal form, he''d been almost a religious zealot.


    Lucius waited to be recognized, and Melchious knew he was there. Finally, Melchous turned to him. The young demon lord looked up at him, throwing his crimson cloak to one side. "Ah, Lucius. I was wondering when you would appear."


    "You wonder in vain," said Lucius. "I appear when I wish, and none to date have been able to change that." He paused. "You seem to have set things in motion, haven''t you, Melchious?"


    Melchious smiled, turning to him, his golden hair glinting in the light like metal. "I have. That is what I do."


    "Are you sure this one will play their part?" asked Lucius, more out of curiosity than a desire to know. Of course, Melchious wasn''t sure, but he would pretend he was. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "They may, or they may not," said Melchious. "They''ll do so in their own way, and I will adapt my plans accordingly." Interesting? Had he learned something from that fiasco with the Mirror of Laevian? Perhaps he was more than hopeless.


    "And what of your errant anchor in the mortal world," said Lucius.


    "On the surface, his actions are bad," said Melchious. "But with proper application, good can be made out of it. Unfortunately, the elves have been overstepping themselves of late. And House Gabriel has many enemies.


    "What of you, Lucius? Still scheming and plotting the ruination of entire worlds?"


    "Hardly," scoffed Lucius. "I merely intend to separate the chaff from the wheat."


    "What a fine way to justify genocide," said Melchious with a smile.


    Lucius laughed at the audacity. "You would presume to lecture me on morality?" It was a meaningless concept, but you had to believe in it to lecture on it.


    "I am Melchious, Lord of Torment," said Melchious, throwing aside his cloak. It was a faux dramatic gesture that did not become him. "I laid low the elven realms of old and cast down entire civilizations. All who oppose me are destroyed, and those who hide from my sight do so in vain. Fire itself worships my name.


    "I am cruelty incarnate.


    "So I do not need to explain why I want to cause misery and suffering. It''s my favorite hobby.


    "At the very least, you pretend to be something more than a mad dog. So I may take you to task for what is, for all intents and purposes, meaningless carnage."


    Lucius had always liked Melchious, even if he didn''t agree with him on everything. He was one of the old-style demons. One for whom evil and death caused in themselves. As long as his actions led to mass destruction and misery, they were not a total loss. While not a demonic archon by birth, Melchious took after Diabolus of old more than his children. Amysta had always been a close second, trying to gain Diabolus'' favor.


    That had been a waste of time. But despite Lucius'' efforts, she''d been the only one to stay loyal. Then Lucius realized he''d drifted into his own thoughts again. Melchious was waiting for an answer, tapping his foot. "You misjudge me, Melchious. I am not much more than a bored member of the gentry. Only my holdings are in the unending tides of the damned. As for my justification, I mildly dislike my enemies. And I would much rather live in a world where they don''t exist.


    "I don''t expect to truly succeed. But when one is an immortal avatar of the Withering, it pays to have a hobby."


    "A hobby?" laughed Melchious. "I''m a bloodthirsty God of Torturers, and even I find that chilling. I destroy because I enjoy destroying and love to inflict pain and have it imposed upon me. It gives me the thrills to make others suffer.


    "But, you don''t enjoy the destruction."


    Lucius flowed past him, moving aside his cloak to reveal the void beneath. "We are two farmers, Melchious. You enjoy the act of farming itself, of exerting your will to sow the seeds of destruction. I hold no joy in that. But I do enjoy the sight of a field well plowed." Best to get to the point. "In any case, Relma Artorious is well on her way to becoming King. It is still being determined, but nothing ever is.


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    "What is your plan if that happens?"


    "Do I need one?" asked Melchious, sounding defensive and uninterested. "That''s the affair of the Dark Dreamer, my greater self. It''s House Gabriel I''m worried about. Do you have any idea how many raishans he destroyed in Khasmir? My kennels are practically empty. I have to expend much of my power breeding new ones."


    Ah yes. Khasmir had been a severe defeat for Melchious. The boy had been hoping to kill at least twice as many people as he had. Still, did he regard the Dark Dreamer as a separate entity? That could not be healthy. "My young friend, you really much learn to be less of an optimist. The Gods are least of equal strength to us and always try to thwart us. After all that has happened, I hope you''d learned to anticipate counter plans."


    "I did," said Melchious. "I had the Axe of Fortenex in my hand. I would have won the war if William hadn''t had the Goldenwood Harp. It should have remained lost forever where I stowed it.


    "It would have if Arraxia hadn''t...


    "Nevermind. My student''s actions were... unexpected."


    "Of course, all that is true," said Lucius. "But you must learn to have fail-safes in place for these things. How are you going to deal with... I believe she is called Arraxia by the mortals? Or does she go by the name of Saphra now? I''m afraid I missed how she managed to be in two places simultaneously."


    "Either will do," said Melchious. "Saphra is an avatar of her will incarnated into a mortal body as part of a pact with the De Chevlons made long ago. That was why I had her imbue her spirit into Baltoth''s Retribution in the first place.


    "She was able to put herself into the infant in place of a soul."


    "What exactly was your plan?" asked Lucius.


    "Put Saphra into a position of power and let her destroy herself," said Melchious. "Outliving subordinates is usually a matter of giving them rope to hang themselves.


    "Being a demon has nothing to do with victory; we wouldn''t enjoy success if we had it. Victory is staying in the game. Dozens of masterful young demon lords have risen to power under me. Many of them have gotten one or two things over on me.


    "Then they make themselves the primary threat and are destroyed.


    "Once that happens, I return and pretend I planned everything. And since that was my strategy, I did. Meanwhile, my erstwhile subordinate has done immense damage to my enemies. I claim that I foresaw they would do that. So I get all the credit and benefits while they get the place in history they wanted."


    "So why do you hate House Gabriel?" asked Lucius.


    "Because Vanion is going to get away with it," snapped Melchious. "He''s not stupid enough to fall into the usual traps. And given William''s rapport with Arraxia, I suspect I know what his next move will be.


    "He''ll want to secure Seathorius, and what better way to do it than make a deal with Arraxia."


    "Are you sure of this?" asked Lucius.


    "Yes," said Melchious. "I''ve seen it starting even now on the roads of Antion.


    "Vanion will want to end the feud between Arraxia and William. It will be for both pragmatic and personal reasons. Likely he''ll do it by giving her a formal invitation to Artarq. Then convince her to open up Savior''s Run for trade with a speech about mutual benefits that feeds her ego.


    "She''ll be able to charge tolls, of course, and it will make her an asset to Antion.


    "The nobles of Antion will be able to become rich in such trade, so they won''t make a fuss. Only if they are among those bankrupted by it. King Andoa will speak about redemption and understanding like he usually does. Vanion will become richer and more acclaimed, and Arraxia will become a partner."


    "Thus establishing a stable system," said Lucius.


    "Yes," said Melchious. "And as long as Arraxia can believe she is in control, that system will continue. It could lead to my hold over the satyrs being weakened.


    "I''m looking into countermeasures as we speak, however. I have trained many great demons; I''m certain some of them would jump at the chance to own Seathorius."


    "What makes you so certain?" asked Lucius.


    "It''s what I would do," admitted Melchious. "So, the matter bears some consideration."


    "Much as young Relma Artorious bears consideration," said Lucius, voice warning. "You underestimate her."


    "There are two possibilities," said Melchious. "Either she''ll remain as she is and become a puppet or fall within the week. If she develops enough to make her ideology work, her children will ruin everything in her place.


    "In truth, I''m utterly indifferent to Relma as a person. The Dark Dreamer wishes her to gain her rightful inheritance, of course. But, for my part, I can''t lose. If she succeeds, I''ll have forced Arengeth''s plans into the light too early. If she fails, then the only possible replacements are Calishans.


    "That will discredit the prophecy and through it, Elranor."


    "You do realize William might qualify as one of Anoa''s bloodline, don''t you?" asked Lucius.


    "Why do you think I created him?" asked Melchious. "The idea was to create an alternative bloodline that could not be controlled. As long as William exists, he could fit the wording.


    "I don''t want Tuor to succeed in his plans. Baltoth will have us both butchered like cattle if he ever wins."


    "I see," said Lucius, "so, your hope is that say, Tuor will kill Baltoth in some scheme. Then William will create Harlenor Reunited. Then you can arrange for his heritage to be well-known. That will discredit both the prophecy and Elranor, by extension.


    "And it will remove Baltoth from the equation.


    "What if Relma succeeds?"


    "Then she''ll have to come into direct conflict with the rest of the lords," said Melchious. "The kind of mass conquest she hopes for isn''t possible peacefully. That''s why Aren and Pandora play the long game. At the very least, it''s far more likely to go bad than if their plans had been unhampered."


    "What if you succeed in destroying House Gabriel?" asked Lucius. "Your alternative bloodline will die."


    "...I don''t know, I''m finally making this up as I go!" admitted Melchious.


    Lucius was pleased that he could admit as much. "It is a good plan. However, you are too confident in the impossibility of certain events, young Melchious. But I have found that fate has a certain... affection for naive imbeciles.


    "Provided they remain pure, they stumble through complex machinations and end up the victor. It''s quite irritating, really."


    "I trained the Goddess of Fate, Lucius," irritated Melchious. "Rioletta learned everything she knows from me. And I can tell you that her affections generally involve her draining blood.


    "Why do you think I drew her attention to William? If she takes him out of the picture and keeps him prisoner, I can arrange his release after destroying his house. Then he can inadvertently set a chain of events that leads to Harlenor Reunited."


    "Of course," said Lucius, impressed that Melchious had devised the plan so quickly. "But young Rioletta is a reincarnation of the original Goddess. And a god''s domain exists independent of the deity.


    "And the threads of fate are very kind to heroes."


    Melchious looked him in the eye, and Lucius saw a hint of that unstoppable fury of old. He was suddenly reminded that he was looking at the embers of a greater inferno. One that once consumed the world. "Say that to Anoa. I dare you."


    Melchious sounded genuinely angry, and there was a hint of his first self there. Lucius took his point and floated back about ten feet. Now he was remembering just why the Dark Dreamer terrified everyone. "Well, I grant there are a few similarities between Anoa the Bright and Relma. Though where they end up may be very different places.


    "On a separate note, we''ve gotten back word from Tuor. He''s pledged his support in the other plan," Melchious glared at him. Could Lucius lighten the mood? "Perhaps the two of them could compare doomed hometowns once I''m done?"


    Melchious roared with laughter. Lucius soon joined him, and all the armies of this hell fled.

 Chapter 223 - The Wages of Sin

    Okay, so Tournament of Kings is now done.


    With that in mind, we now move back to the far east to see how Abdul Sahshir and his people have been doing. In the next installment, we''ll advance Sahshir''s rivalry with Garacel. We will also give more details on the nation of Dinis and how Calisha has reacted to recent events.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    But the main action will take place within the Islands of Power. They lie between the great seafaring nations of that area. And they are often a place of struggle.


    I hope you''ve enjoyed the story so far. And I hope you enjoy the next one even more. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It will be called;


    The Wages of Sin.

 Chapter 224 - Prologue: The Merchant of Sugar

    Garrick Estov always acted in the best interests of his employer. So he thought as he walked through halls of red carpets and tapestries. Only the richest for the richest halfling in Sorn, Cirithil Magnious. A man of surpassing affability, popular among friends and enemies alike. He always provided a good table and reasonable rates for his employees. At the same time, those who became superfluous were given new work.


    He had many sheep farms and rented oxen out to villagers all over. His funding of trade fleets rivaled all the others put together. All save his enemy, Sen Kaba, who dwelled in a lonely, clean, and cheap hall. Kaba, Garrick knew, trained with a sword and knew the art of war. And he might have served more often had not Garrick''s chief lieutenant hated him beyond words. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    That lieutenant, Finn, was too valuable to part company with. His order, the Knights of the Coin, needed more money and finance to do otherwise.


    Ethics, morality, honor, and justice were contracts made differently. The Knights of the Coin knew that, which was why he was here. This marble and velvet palace belongs not to a Lord but to a merchant. He preferred the halls of merchants to the ancient fortress of Gel Carn. The red velvet and paintings of various dignified ancestors were a refreshing change. There was Cirithil Magnious. A splendid halfling who founded the house was a shrewd manager of farmland. Yusuf Kaba was a great soldier and a dear friend of Cirithil''s.


    Both were long dead, but the memory remained. Carath liked the past and kept many records of it.


    People in this place understood the value of money.


    Walking unseen by a guard or servant into the living room, he saw Finn. The huge, bald man looked out of place within the cozy living room with its books and globes. His usual brown vest had been traded for the white tunic, simple and cheap but looking reasonable. Servant garb that could not hide his muscular frame or his knives. Standing over by the fireplace, he was a marked contrast to the other room resident.


    That resident was a halfling of about fifty in a red doublet with baggy pants and a scarf around his neck. It was a relic of when he''d nearly been knifed in a temple during the prayers. Garrick had cut off quite a few heads that day. Most priests were priests, but among the dead was Carath''s younger brother, Ablar. Carath had long suspected House Suvvest for the deed but had largely avenged himself by now. He did not use violence in the city when he could avoid it.


    He had curly white hair and bright red cheeks. He had a pipe between his lips and read one of his favorite books. It was a biography of the Fish King, the Lord of the Sea of Power. Or so Garrick guessed by the thickness of the pages and long experience. I am an avid reader.


    A man to be admired.


    Eventually, the halfing shut the book and looked up. "Ah, Finn. Excellent to see you, as always. How have things progressed?"


    "Better than we could have hoped for, Carath," said Finn. "The Empire of Dinis recently conducted a campaign against a rebellion in Zigilus. While it was successful, the fighting messed up whole legions. Better still, Typhos has returned. As a result, chaos manifests throughout Dinis.


    "Monsters are returning and ravaging the countryside.


    "The way I see it, Dinis isn''t able to repel any invasion. And they''re out of the game with the Babarassians in the east getting thrashed by Haldren. We''ve got an open shot."


    "Excellent! Truly excellent!" said Carath, standing up and setting down his book. "I''ve been hoping for one of them to deal the other a bloody nose for some time. So now we proper businessmen can finally get new markets."


    "So you want to invade the ports? Or just raze the competition?" asked Finn. Finn usually suggested violence for the simple reason that he was good at it. No one called him up for peaceful pursuits.


    "Neither," said Garrick, knowing something of the plan. He emerged from the shadows, and Finn sighed.


    "Garrick, I wasn''t aware you were back," said Finn, rubbing his goatee. "How''d the tournament go?"


    "Poorly," said Garrick, sitting in the third chair. "The only good news is that Antion has stabilized. But, I should warn you, House Magnious'' military strength is too weak to confront Dinis. A prolonged conflict between us would see Calisha as the winner."


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    "That much I know," said Carath.


    "So what''s the plan?" said Finn.


    Carath drew a scroll from one pocket and set it on one of his mahogany tables. Then, rolling it out, he revealed a map showing Sorn and Antion''s coast above it to the north. Then, there was Qor''Danas and Calisha, whose coast stretched from Dren to Kalthak. "We have a map of the sea of power here. Our colonies are in the southern islands. Meanwhile, Calisha has several in the eastern reaches. Last, Dinis has several islands that produce a great deal of sugar.


    "They are the primary competitors with House Kaba."


    "So you mean to take it from Dinis?" guessed Finn.


    "Exactly," said Carath. "The fleet is already ready."


    "What about Safara?" asked Finn. "I''ve heard Calisha is installing a new religion in Dinis. If they do that-"


    "That is a gradual process," said Carath. "The Emperor will never ask for help from Calisha. Not unless all other hope seems lost.


    "No, my young friend, we must do this slowly and steadily.


    "Snap off a few islands from Dinis to get our foot in the door of the sugar business. Then, once we''ve done that, we can work our way out."


    "What of the Council of Merchants?" asked Finn. "They may protest."


    "Oh, the Kabas have made plenty of rackets about the horrors of war," said Carath. "But everyone else is all for breaking her monopoly. And if it brings riches to Sorn, so much the better."


    "This reminds me, are we sure we want to enter the sugar market?" asked Garrick, voicing a longstanding problem. "Duke Vanion has been cutting into Kaba''s profits a great deal."


    "He''s been cutting into everyone''s profits," said Carath. "All those gangs wiped out. The criminal organizations that disrupted made many bribes for naught. So we''re having difficulty finding replacements for them.


    "Bribery is difficult."


    "A few letters couldn''t make that much of a difference," scoffed Finn.


    "I''m afraid they can," said Garrick. "Vanion researched what House Kaba was doing. He wrote letters to all his friends describing it and asking them not to buy sugar. They wrote their friends and the word spread.


    "It took a noticeable chunk out of his profits."


    "Then why are we getting into a market that''s not growing?" asked Finn.


    "I''m not ''getting into'' a market," said Carath. "I''m creating a new one. Kaba sells sugar. I am going to sell ''humane'' sugar."


    "Meaning?" asked Garrick.


    "We''ll spend a bit more money than he does on worker safety," said Carath. "We''ll have priests on standby to heal the wounded. A few minor extra expenses."


    "But then our prices will be higher than Kaba''s," noted Garrick,


    "True," said Carath. "But then we will spread the word of how much better we treat them. We''ll write about how we plan to civilize the satyrs we work there. How our efforts are for their benefit as much as ours. We can introduce some missionaries to preach to them.


    "Of course, in practice, we''ll only extend their misery by a few weeks. But people will make a cause of buying from us. They''ll be able to turn up their noses at others. They can say, ''I buy humane sugar'' or something to that effect. Many people who swore off the stuff will be lured back to us and view the problem as solved.


    "And since our sugar will have a smaller supply since we only have one island, we can charge far more for it than Kaba."


    "You don''t think Antion won''t notice what is going on, do you?" asked Finn.


    "He is right," said Garrick. "Vanion will send more people to investigate and publish the truth. The printing press that was recently created in Antion is a powerful tool.


    "It''s already clothed his house in glory."


    Carath smiled at Garrick. "Never underestimate what the upper class will pay to feel smug.


    "None of them care about what happens to those under them. But they also want to feel lordly and wise. Like they are somehow better than the people, they crush underfoot, as a matter of course.


    "So they pick some arbitrary cause, whether sugar or chivalry, and devote themselves to it. But, of course, they don''t want to change; that requires them to improve their behavior. So whatever cause they pick up revolves around pointing out other people''s flaws. That way, they can demand change from the people they oppress instead.


    "No one who fights a charitable cause believes in it. They do it to appease their ego. That, and to deceive the masses into believing they are something more than parasites."


    "So what does that make you?" asked Finn.


    "My dear Finn, I make no pretensions to righteousness," said Carath. "I simply wish to make a great deal of money, gain a good reputation, and die content in a bed surrounded by children." Bothering about all these false causes is just a waste of everyone''s time and money. The world would be far better if everyone were more honest and practical about things."


    "Define better?" asked Finn.


    Carath paused. "...Well, I wouldn''t have to attend nearly as many parties."


    Finn laughed uproariously. Garrick thought this in poor taste.

 Chapter 225 - One: Rising Action

    Until some months ago, Abdul Sahshir had never expected to sit on his father''s throne. Uncomfortable and wooden though it was, it was a very satisfying experience. Wood was expensive in Kalthak, and felling trees was only permitted with authorization from local officials. Of course, foreign visitors often sneered at the throne, but Sahshir cared little.


    Having lost two fingers in the battle of Zigilus to get it, it felt very anticlimactic now to rest here. Though it pained his plagued skin less than most.


    Even so, it was written that the wise ruler thought not of crowns or thrones. Only the business of the day.


    That was why the merchant kneeling before him was influential. The newly founded Silent Guard standing on either side. Sahshir kept a hand on the Sword of Order, clenching it tightly to dull the pain. "Ashreth, the Merchant?"


    "King Sahshir," said Ashreth.


    "Some months ago, you sustained an injury by one of Regent Asim''s men," said Sahshir. "I offer now this in compensation. Unfortunately, I am also told a table of yours was broken afterward, and some of your wares destroyed."


    "Yes, you had a man ask about it," said Ashreth, looking up. "I am honored that you remembered."


    "I have compensation for you," said Sahshir. "However, I fear you were too conservative in your estimates. There is more than you asked for." He motioned, and the servant brought forth gold to set down.


    Ashreth took it and looked up. "Thank you. May I speak freely, my King?"


    "You may," said Sahshir. It was written that the fool closed his ears to criticism.


    "In place of compensation, I''d rather see the men who have been terrorizing us hang," said Ashreth.


    "As would I," said Sahshir. "But I need Asim''s support. If I hang his men, he may turn against me. So I cannot kill them.


    "I am not yet strong enough to do more."


    "It isn''t right that those men can just walk off," said Ashreth.


    "No," said Sahshir. "On the Day of Perfect Order, they will pay their due. Unfortunately, that day is not here. So we must wait."


    "I understand," said Ashreth. "My thanks to you for this. I will remember it." He bowed and turned to leave.


    Sahshir glanced at his right hand. His hand slipped from the sword as he did, and the pain returned. Ignoring it, Sahshir motioned to the beautiful man kneeling at his right. "There goes a man of order. Make a note of it, Sushaki," Sushaki nodded and began to write. Sahshir looked back to Nayasha at the door, a knife at her side, a hood covering most of her face. "Bring in the next one."


    The door was opened, and another man entered, clad in a similar turban and coat. He was fatter than the last, with a long beard, and the sword he laid at Sahshir''s feet was gilded. "King Sahshir, I am pleased to see you already proving yourself a better ruler than those who came before. The city resounds with tales of your generosity."


    "Perhaps," said Sahshir, clutching the sword again. "There were some irregularities with the numbers you gave me."


    "What?" said the man, looking up with a pale expression.


    "I asked you to compile a list of damages sustained by those Asim hurt," said Sahshir. "Most of those were among the merchant class. Then, when I returned, I asked the same question of many other merchants. All had different estimates of who suffered what.


    "However, they all had far lower numbers on the damages you suffered.


    "Do you know the penalty for such actions in the heartlands of Calisha?"


    "King Sahshir," said the man. "I beg-"


    Sahshir raised a hand. "Enough.


    "I am certain this was a mere miscalculation on your part. I found many miscalculations when I spoke with the merchants. So I will do as I did for them. Take all the various merchants'' estimates and compare them to the account given by Asim''s men. Then give a rough estimate of my own."


    He motioned to the servant, who brought forth the compensation. The man shuddered and bowed. "Thank you, my king. I apologize for the mistake.


    "I''ve been under a great deal of strain lately. I must have miscalculated with Garacel''s attack and all the recent battles."


    "I am aware," said Sahshir. "I''m certain you won''t make the same mistake twice."


    "Of course not." said the man.


    "Tell me of the Sornian businesses that have opened up in our coastal villages?" said Sahshir.


    "Mere coastal relay points for supplies," said the man. "The go-between, Lilas, is a Harlenorian. So he is neutral."


    "Not necessarily," said Sahshir. "He might be seeking to advance his own personal power.


    "Coordinate with your fellow merchants and buy those areas out. If you need forces, coordinate with Sushaki. He is my right hand in matters of finance. No foreigners are to ever control our ports nor keep observers there."


    "I understand," said the man. "Is this a mandate?"


    "Sushaki is in command or no one," said Sahshir. Such business would have little glory, but Sushaki was the best man for the job. He understood such things.


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    "I understand," said the man.


    "Leave us," said Sahshir.


    The man departed, walking through the great doors to the hall. The guards nodded and shut them with a clang. Now there as only the dim light from the hall-raised shutters.


    "...Slime," said Sushaki under his breath. "Why are you spending all this money?"


    "They are owed compensation," said Sahshir. "And the money was drawn from warriors I fined. And the goodwill gained may do much to ensure our power."


    "Merchants are loyal only to the money in their pockets," said Sushaki.


    "And to add more, they must have a stable government," said Sahshir. "Your father disregarded the power of money. It can be used to equip armies or hire them. The economy is the lifeblood of war."


    "Talk like that is exactly why Father tried to kill you in the first place," noted Sushaki.


    "He deemed me a leprous, bookish weakling," said Sahshir. "Now, he knows better.


    "Tell me of Lilas?"


    "A polite, if weak merchant," said Sushaki. "He has an understanding of mercantile like nothing I have seen. But he is no warrior. On the contrary, he defers to every official he meets without question."


    "Merchants took power in Sorn," said Sahshir. "They could take power here.


    "Remember to underestimate them. This Lilas might be harmless, or he might not be. Or he might be a go-between for powers we do not understand."


    "Why are you even going to the trouble of all this?" asked Sushaki suddenly. "You know as well as I do that you''ll be king for a few years. Father didn''t just yield to you out of respect; he did it because he knew he was next in line. And he knew that your affliction-"


    Sahshir brought around his sword to put it to Sushaki''s throat before he could finish. Sushaki flinched long after his head had been removed from his shoulders. "...Go on."


    Sushaki sighed. "-even if you do all these reforms, Father is just going to tear them up. You know what he thought of Narcissa."


    "Asim might be convinced to keep some of them if you had a spine," noted Sahshir before sheathing his blade.


    "Father doesn''t listen to anything I say," said Sushaki.


    "Then make him listen, you vicious little-" began Sahshir, feeling fury.


    Nayasha surged forward between them. "Calm yourself, King Sahshir. It would ill befit either of you to kill the other so soon after a coronation."


    "Nayasha," said Sahshir. "I believe you had some other matter you wanted to discuss."


    "I have received news from your father-" began Nayasha. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "My father is dead," said Sahshir. "Tuor merely inhabits his body." So Tuor willingly abandoned Sahshir when Aresh never would have. So Aresh was dead; it was a simple fact.


    Nayasha sighed. "I come bearing news from Tuor and my agents in the Islands of Power. We have reason to believe that Sorn will strike against Dinis."


    "I hardly see how any of that is our concern," said Sushaki.


    "It is written," said Sahshir. "Where there is war, there is an opportunity."


    "For loss," said Sushaki. "Our fleet has never recovered from our last war with Sorn. We''ve only just begun to reconstruct it. And it has cost us a fortune in lumber from Neseriah''s realm. We don''t have the trees for it here."


    "Armies are like muscles," said Nayasha. "If not used, they atrophy."


    "What exactly are you proposing, Nayasha?" asked Sahshir.


    "I believe that you should intervene," said Nayasha. "As does Tuor, for that matter."


    "...Give me the details," said Sahshir.


    Nayasha drew out a map from one scroll and unrolled it before them. Sahshir paid keen attention.


    "The fleets of Sorn are here, roughly," said Nayasha. "They are heading toward these islands. Macshore and Chaminus."


    "Chaminus is the last remnants of Old Namina, is it not?" asked Sahshir.


    "We are the heirs of Namina," said Sushaki firmly.


    "We assimilated aspects of Namina," said Sahshir. "However, the blood runs pure on Chaminus. It is said that it is protected by a Golden Dragon of immense age and power."


    "So Sorn will head to Macshore," noted Sushaki.


    Sahshir tried to remember his lessons. He could remember the history, but the history of the name eluded him. "Macshore? What manner of name is that, anyway?"


    "It was named by explorers from the Dragon Empire. That was, they still had holdings in these islands," said Nayasha. "Dinis seized them during one of the wars.


    "That was back before they were sealed off from the rest of the world. The seals wane and grow periodically but haven''t come by in a long time."


    "If memory serves, Macshore is a site of many sugar plantations," said Sahshir. "Why would they be heading there? Sorn has many of them."


    "You forget that Sorn is not ruled by one great house but many," said Nayasha. "They often compete and squabble with one another as much as their enemies. House Magnious is financing the fleet with the approval of his fellows.


    "House Kaba are the ones who control most of the sugar market. The plantations are unpleasant, and worse still, they almost spread to Antion. The Road of Chaos incident was an unprecedented fiasco for everyone."


    "So they mean to cut into the market," surmised Sushaki thoughtfully. "Knowing Lilas, he has already bet for all possibilities. He has enough money for it."


    "Then he will lose no matter what he does," said Sahshir. "What would you advise, Sushaki."


    "Stay out of it," said Sushaki. "It is to our benefit if Dinis and Sorn fight one another. A battle between them leaves us growing stronger and they weaker."


    "But what if Sorn should win?" asked Sahshir. "They will then be able to seize other islands from Dinis. Such a victory could lead to them becoming the dominant power in the Sea of Power. But, with the Zigilus Fleet defecting to our side, we can oppose them.


    "What if they turned their eyes to our lands next? Harlenor may convince them to open a second front on Calisha. It could become a new Estal."


    "...A fair point," said Sushaki, considering things. "Even so, limited involvement seems wise. We are presently neutral with Dinis. However, we might dispatch a messenger to the Emperor and offer our support in the coming battle."


    "Who should command the fleet?" asked Nayasha.


    "Raj Danal seems the most logical choice," said Sushaki doubtfully. "He has a history of daring naval expeditions."


    "Very well," said Sahshir. "I will inform him personally. But, Sushaki, you will be in charge in my absence. You are the only one I would trust with the task." He didn''t expect Sushaki to be loyal to him per se. Merely that he wouldn''t undo months of progress because he didn''t like the people he benefited. "Make sure all foreign businesses are bought out or destroyed by the time I return.


    "We''re going to war with them anyway. Nayasha, I will write a message to the Emperor personally. Can one of your agents deliver it?"


    "With all the haste in the world," said Nayasha. "Though you are playing a much more aggressive game than I anticipated."


    "I don''t have time to be conservative," said Sahshir. "We should consider what we will do if the Emperor refuses us."


    "If that occurs, we will wait and see who emerges victorious," said Sahshir. "Should it be Sorn, we will attack their weakened forces and sell the island back to the Emperor."


    "You want to sell it?" asked Nayasha, blinking.


    "Do you believe we are in a position to start an occupation?" asked Sahshir.


    Nayasha shifted on her feet. "I... well, if we did seize such an island, it seems we ought to consult High King Suloth." Why was she taken off guard? This was nothing unusual for a kingdom of Calisha. "Perhaps we could give the territory to his dominions as a gift."


    Nayasha was trying to stall Sahshir into being conservative. Did she have some plan which required him to merely consolidate? Or perhaps she was afraid Kalthak would be destroyed in the war. But the latter would happen anyway if Sorn won.


    "I will consider it," said Sahshir. "Now, I must compose a letter. First, Sushaki, go to Narcissa, and request her assistance in his matter."


    "To what end?" asked Sushaki.


    "If we march to war, I expect to bring her forces with us," said Sahshir. "Nayasha, provide Sushaki any assistance he needs. Keep each other focused and on task."


    "Yes, sir," said Nayasha.


    A war would come at last.


    A good place to die, if nothing else.

 Chapter 226 - Two: Letters and Departures

    Sahshir looked at the third draft of the letter he''d finished writing. It had been irritating, waiting for his hand to stop shaking from the disease. But it was better he did it himself than have Narcissa do it for him or even a scribe. Sahshir wanted control of his documents Relying on anyone else could lose him that. Reading it up and down, he paused. The pain from his effort was bad, but as long as he focused on the letters, he could be distracted.


    To His Majesty, Emperor Octavus III of Dinis,


    I am King Sahshir II of the realm of Khasina, also known as East Kalthak. I have observed the valor of your legions in the siege of Zigilus. I am impressed by your empire and in awe of your legions. I desire to join you in your fight against the fleets of Sorn.


    Grant me this honor and a share of the spoils, and my fleets shall leave with the tide. From,


    -King Sahshir II.


    Sahshir offered it to Nayasha, who eyed it up and down. Sahshir was curious if he was wasting his time. Octavus had ordered Zigilus utterly annihilated before, for which Narcissa held a grudge. But Octavus'' legions were loyal to him and powerful. And there was good justification for destroying it. The place had been a sensual hellscape. Moreover, Zigildrazia herself had wanted it destroyed.


    "Very brief and to the point. Though that''s probably for the best. I shouldn''t expect a courteous answer if I were you," said Nayasha with a frown. "But why do you want to ally with the people you were fighting?"


    "Because they are fighting Sorn," said Sahshir, grasping his sword. "And Sorn is stronger."


    Nayasha nodded and turned to walk away. Then she glanced back. "Sahshir?"


    "Yes?" asked Sahshir.


    "Go outside for a bit," said Nayasha. "You''ve been dealing with matters of state nonstop for the past few weeks. So a walk may do you good.


    "You can''t win glorious victories if you''re dead on your feet."


    "Your advice is noted," said Sahshir. "So watch me."


    He waited as she departed the throne room. For a moment, he sat in the darkness of his hall, the blade over his knees. Then, finally, he set it to his belt and decided to leave. Making his way out of the hall, he walked the palace halls. The sun was bright, but he felt lightheaded as it beat down on his mask.


    Pressing on, he made his way out of the palace and turned toward the shrine of Baltoth. It had been rebuilt since the attack by Garacel and made more elaborate. The walls were of white stone, and a curved roof of red tiles was on it. On either side of the entrance were statues of two golden dragons.


    Sahshir glanced at the city and decided he didn''t want to walk all that way. His legs were burning already, and while he could move through it, he''d had enough in the practice field. So he walked to the door and knocked.


    The door opened, and Kushina looked out. She was healing well from her injuries against Garacel and held a staff in one hand. Her dark hair was tied behind her. "Sahshir, I haven''t seen you in some time. I was beginning to think you''d forgotten about us."


    "Never," said Sahshir as he entered. "How fair the shrine?" He noted several bedrolls on the floor.


    "We''ve had many people housing here," said Kushina. "However, Schzara has been taking care of the shrine in my stead mostly. I''ve been... evangelizing?" She quickly moved to the far side of the shrine and kneeled down, pouring a cup of tea for him. She offered it to Sahshir. He kneeled across from her and, glancing around for anyone else, removed his mask.


    Sipping the tea, the endless pain became less so. "Attempting to convert the Zigilus refugees?" Sahshir asked.


    "Convert?" asked Kushina. "No, I don''t hope for that. Convince them to act with a semblance of decency? Perhaps."


    "There is hostility to them, then," guessed Sahshir.


    "More than that," said Kushina. "Theirs is a depraved society. Our opposite in every way. They wear clothes that bare their bodies, even when it would make more sense to wear concealing robes. They have begun performing ritual orgies, and some among them are trying to corrupt our youth."


    "Baltoth has taken many consorts over the years, Kushina," noted Sahshir.


    "Yes, but he''s doing so forms practical purposes," said Kushina. "By having numerous descendants, he can observe events through their eyes. Moreover, it provides Calisha with an easy means to control the Empire. And there is an order in the relationship; Baltoth is in authority, and the others are his subjects.


    "What Zigilus performs is pure chaos."


    "I imagine Zigildrazia would be the one in authority," said Sahshir. "They all claim loyalty to her."


    "Are you arguing in favor of Zigildrazia?" asked Kushina.


    Sahshir considered the question. He sipped his tea again, and the pain dulled further. "No. I''m arguing against you.


    "How have your efforts to convert them gone?"


    "Not particularly well, to be honest," said Kushina. "How is the tea?"


    "Excellent, as always," said Sahshir. Her tea had a way of dulling the pain and making him feel a bit more alive. It meant he had to put less effort into moving for a while. At times, he almost felt like he was healthy again.


    "Good," said Kushina. "It''s difficult to sell a life of obedience and order over a life of willful depravity."


    "I would focus on safety," said Sahshir.


    "What do you mean ''safety?''" asked Kushina.


    "Zigilus was destroyed in the war," said Sahshir. "Convince them that their failure was because of a lack of adherence to order. Tell them that embracing the power of Baltoth may lead them to become stronger still.


    "Convince them that the path of Order will lead them to greater power than ever before."


    "I wasn''t aware you had any talent for manipulation," noted Kushina.


    "All things desire power," said Sahshir. "So Baltoth teaches us."


    "And what should we do about the men they are luring into their profane rituals?" asked Kushina.


    "Tell them if they associate with them, they''ll be crucified for heresy," said Sahshir.


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    "That is... somewhat direct, don''t you think?" mused Kushina.


    "Baltoth himself has proclaimed crucifixion the ideal form of execution," noted Sahshir. "It causes maximum suffering so that the effects will stay with the person in their next life. And it also makes a public example to all who would see."


    "Well, yes, I know," said Kushina. "I would just prefer to use other means than simple violence. Your Uncle has always been in favor of such tactics,"


    "Violence is the solution to most problems, as long as you perform it properly," said Sahshir.


    "Now you''re trying to irritate me. Be serious, Sahshir," said Kushina with a laugh.


    Sahshir smiled, the motion not hurting him. "I am unsure.


    "Perhaps you could appeal to the families of those involved to intervene."


    And then there was a knock.


    Sahshir set a hand to his sword and glanced back as Kushina went forward to check the door. Opening it ajar, she spoke with someone. Then she glanced back apologetically. "King Sahshir, Lord Asim is here to speak with you."


    "Very well, then," said Sahshir. "Let him in."


    Asim entered the room, wearing full samurai armor. Sahshir wondered why he insisted on that armor. "Abdul, I''ve heard something. Is it true you are allowing the servants of Zigildrazia to perform their profane rights?"


    "I have not given them permission of any kind, Uncle," said Sahshir flatly. "They did so without my word. We were discussing what to do about them."


    Asim halted and sighed in relief. "Well, that is something.


    "I think a night attack is best. Perhaps after a festival. Catch them when they are off-guard and-"


    "We are not slaughtering them," said Sahshir flatly. He wished people would stop resorting to genocide as a matter of course. Just because the Urishia deserved it, it didn''t make it an all-purpose solution. Octavus'' actions had been reckless in his eyes; it would have been better to seize the city and purify it.


    Then again, Sahshir hadn''t had to live with them.


    "First, you hand the city over to the merchants," scowled Asim. "And now you intend to let these heathens operate with impunity?"


    "Why do you care?" asked Sahshir flatly. "You''ve never held any love for Baltoth or his teachings."


    "I care because you are allowing these blood-drinking savages to corrupt this land!" snapped Asim.


    "They don''t drink blood," said Sahshir.


    "They might as well," said Asim incredulously. "Their goddess willingly destroyed their civilization, and they don''t care. "


    "Such devotion would be called admirable if in service to Baltoth," noted Kushina.


    "But it is not in service to Baltoth, is it?" asked Asim, looking at her with dislike. Asim had never served Baltoth save in name. His faith had always been in Rammas, the dethroned son of Baltoth who had raised rebellion long ago.


    After a bloody civil war, Rammas had long ago been sealed deep within Ruscow, never to be released. Then Asim looked back to Sahshir. "When I allowed you to ascend, I was hoping for better than this." S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I have a solution in mind already," said Sahshir.


    Asim looked at him for a moment. "...Well, what is it?"


    "Have you heard the news of Sorn encroaching on Dinis?" asked Sahshir.


    "I have heard," admitted Asim. "I do not see how it concerns us, however. Let them fight. Both are contemptible to my eyes. The Sornians care for nothing but money, and Dinis is our enemy, or was until recently."


    "I mean to arrange an alliance with Dinis and come in on their side of the war," said Sahshir. "In exchange for payment, of course. Sorn has been buying property on the shore, and I mean to take it away from them. But, since we will have to go to war to do that, it is better to side with our weaker opponent."


    Asim remained silent a moment. "...Reasonable, but I don''t see how this solves our problem. We can''t leave the Zigildrazians at our back."


    "We will arrange for the militias of the Zigilus refugees to join us in the war," said Sahshir. "We are already gathering survivors who we missed the war. Zigilian priests march to war alongside their armies. If we bring all their remaining priests, we can engage Dinis in battle."


    "And?" asked Asim.


    "In such a confrontation, their religious elite may be wiped out," said Sahshir. But, of course, he had no intention of seeing such a thing happen deliberately. Though since it could happen, what he was saying was not a lie. "This will leave their depraved religion with no means to spread. And we may step in to fill the void.


    "We will fight against nearly impossible odds, and Zigildrazians are decadent. Therefore, they shall be hardened into warriors or killed."


    "Canon fodder?" guessed Asim with a smile.


    "If necessary," said Sahshir. "Though I hope that they realize the folly of their ways and become more like us. Many of them are formidable warriors and need only shake off the last influence on them.


    "Those who do not will die in battle."


    Asim put two fingers on the edge of his mask. "And it would let us put that fleet to good use. But who will command it?"


    "I had in mind Raj Danal," said Sahshir. He''d almost randomly picked the name when given a list by Nayasha. He''d won several skirmishes abroad and was low on the list. And he frequently took on Kalthakian soldiers.


    "Raj?" scoffed Asim. "He''s nothing more than a common pirate with no honor or regard for true war. He''s not even a Kalthakian, one of those filthy Drens. Though I have heard he is at least half Babarassian."


    Babarassians were considered the lowest form of scum by virtually all Calishans. They had abandoned Calisha when Baltoth civilized it and cast down Valranor. Now they lived as pirates in the Islands of Power and on Babarassia.


    Even the Harlenorians didn''t like them.


    "Yes," noted Sahshir. "He is also the most accomplished pirate in the world today." Raj usually plundered armed ships and never went after those who were defenseless. This meant his victories were much more impressive. No doubt others could claim the title, but he picked Raj.


    "Actually, that is arguable," said Kushina. "The Harlenorian, Argath Marn, has done similar feats and is among the most hated of our enemies. Since the two have never fought, we can''t-" Sahshir and Asim looked at her. "Nevermind."


    "The point is that he is highly experienced and presently in our employ," said Sahshir. "We cannot trust a captain of Zigilus, and we Kalthakians have no great skill at sea."


    "Well, I will not risk my armies on such a war," said Asim. "My men have no tradition of sea combat. And Dinis is on the border and could launch a surprise attack. To say nothing of West Kalthak."


    "Well, then is fortunate that I cannot afford to take you with me," said Sahshir. "Remain here and ensure that Khasina is well protected.


    "While I am gone, I ask that you refrain from punishing the merchants. They are a caste without honor. However, they are far more dangerous than you realize."


    "How so?" asked Asim.


    "Money can buy mercenaries," said Sahshir flatly.


    "No nation can survive on mercenaries," noted Asim.


    "But they can fall if they hire enough of them," replied Sahshir. "The merchants can do so, and they will if pressed."


    "Then why not purge the lot of them?" asked Asim.


    That was his solution to everything. "We need merchants. If we were to purge them, we would be unable to make war. And future merchants would be unwilling to do business in Khasina.


    "They are a necessary evil. Therefore, we must tolerate them while limiting their influence.


    "Which reminds me, Sushaki is about to begin buying up many properties. Ones that used to belong to the Sornians. Ensure the Sornians are given a good price to avoid making a martyr of them. We cannot fully overcome Sorn, and our victory relies on terms.


    "And make sure the territory ends up back in the hands of the villagers. I don''t want to throw off one group of merchants to replace them with another. So Kushina will send agents to ensure the villagers know what is happening and why."


    "To what end?" asked Kushina.


    "I don''t want to throw out the Sornians to replace them with merchants from Kalthak or Dinis," said Sahshir. "Our people must remain the masters of their own land.


    "And they must learn how to counter it."


    Asim remained silently for a long moment. "...Very well then, Sahshir. We''ll play things your way for now, but I won''t be content with this policy forever. Sooner or later, there will be a reckoning with these people."


    "Do you know who Lilas is?" asked Sahshir.


    "Sounds Harlenorian," said Asim. "Some warrior?"


    "Sushaki has a high opinion of him," said Sahshir. "I think you''d best find out which merchants serve Kalthak best, Asim. You need to know their names to counter them."


    And he turned to walk out.


    Sahshir doubted either would make it to the decade''s end, so that was all the moot point.

 Chapter 227 - Three: Raj Danal

    A few weeks later, Sahshir found Raj Danal drinking at a bar in the port city of Saladus. It sat near the south edge of Khasina, near the glistening waters of the sea of power. Seeing it from a hill had been quite relaxing to gaze on. Sahshir had taken some time to meditate on it before descending to the town of slanted roofs. You could hear the laughter and false merriment and see the smoke rising.


    In this place, all matter of depravity was allowed.


    And then, of course, there was Raj Danal.


    Drinking in the tavern of the Broken Moon. The outside appeared almost respectable. But it only made the revelation of the inside insulting. It was a seedy place filled with the smell of drink and women of loose morals. Sahshir found it disgusting to be here, and the kegs of beer were the most despicable. And Calishans were drinking of it.


    Calishans.


    Alcohol was sold in Saladus as well as many other abominations. Yet they were drinking. As if Baltoth had not forbidden the consumption of wicked beverages. Sahshir made a mental note to have all these places closed down when he had the time and influence. The site had some ancient fortifications built in the days of Namina. You could still see the symbols of the Five Heavenly Dragons on some parts of the wall, albeit faded. Others were of new construction from where the wall had been breached in a siege.


    This place had not been sacked during the Rammasian Civil War. On the contrary, it had declared neutrality and served both sides.


    More was the pity. Though Sahshir knew he should be happy to have the port, watching it burn would be far more satisfying.


    Raj Danal was an old man of perhaps sixty, with wrinkles and scars all over his face and body. Raj wore a white turban with a jewel on top of it and golden armbands over toned arms. At his side was a scimitar rather than a katana, and several other rough men were with him.


    All of them were veterans of dozens of battles. Sahshir had met the man and knew he was nobody to be trifled with. One of the few Kalthakians to fight at sea and win. "Raj Danal."


    Raj glanced at Sahshir with red eyes. "So, the Leper Prince wants to talk then?"


    "I am King of the Eastern Kingdom now," said Sahshir.


    Raj bowed dramatically as laughter came from the men. "Forgive me, Leper King."


    Sahshir reminded himself that killing everyone in this room would be wrong. So he moved over to the man who laughed, grabbed him by the throat, and tore it out with his two good fingers. The blood spewed over the table, mixing with his drink. Sahshir tossed him to the ground and crushed his skull with one foot. The ordinary patrons screamed in horror and fled out of the bar, upsetting several tables as they did.


    "...I would cut off your head, cretin, if I did not need you for the moment," said Sahshir.


    Raj laughed and clapped Sahshir on the back as several men made impressed sounds. These men were part of the blood cult of Melchious, after all. "But you still need me, I guess. So what is it you want?"


    "I want you to command the fleet," said Sahshir, tossing some coins to the bartender in compensation.


    "A fleet?" asked Raj, standing up and setting a hand to his scimitar. "Now that does sound like some fun. So who are we raiding?"


    "No one," said Sahshir. "Our action is defensive in nature. We are looking to make an alliance with Dinis against Sorn."


    "Why should we care about that?" asked Raj, speaking for himself and probably Kalthak in a very general sense.


    "If Sorn gains control of the Sea of Power, they will be free to raid us with impunity," said Sahshir. "And it will make it far more difficult to raid them. You know as well as I that they''ll ally with Harlenor once they finish here."


    "Not so sure about that," said Raj, a wistful smile on his old face. "Sorn may have once been part of Antion, but they hate each other almost as much as they hate us. I think they might just start killing eachother as soon as it''s over.


    "Still, I''m not turning down a job like that.


    "Anything else?"


    "There is another matter," said Sahshir. "I expect you to carry the warriors of Zigilus with you to battle."


    "Those blood drinkers?" asked Raj, not sounding upset so much as surprised. "Why? I thought your kind didn''t like them."


    "If they''re fighting our enemies, they cannot be causing trouble for us here," said Sahshir. Then Raj stepped back and kneeled with sarcasm. "Fair point. Alright, you''ve got a deal. My boys and I will take care of your fancy fleet."


    "Good," said Sahshir before looking at the men. A large part of Raj''s crew must have been here. But, more importantly, none of them seemed to respect him. "Tell me, which one of the men here would you like to remain uninjured."


    "What do you mean?" asked Raj.


    "If you had to pick an indispensable man in this room, who would it be?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    Raj thought about it. Then he pointed to another man with blonde hair. "Well, I imagine myself. But, failing that, my mate Acton would be it."


    "Excellent," said Sahshir.


    Then he surged at the men, and his rage was unleashed. Before one of the men could move, he was floored. Another went at him, but Sahshir gripped him by the hair and smashed him against the wall. Two who came from behind were knocked flat. Sahshir was sure to pull them back before they could hit the counter.


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    Another came at him with a stool, but he disarmed him and threw him down before setting down the stool. Then, as he set his hand to his blade, he found himself surrounded by a thicket of swords.


    "Put them down," said Sahshir. "Or none of you will have hands."


    Raj laughed from where he was sitting cross-legged and tossed his sword into the air. As it fell, he rose and sheathed the weapon while coming forward. He waved off the men. "Put up your swords, mates; the King and I are in this!"


    Raj set a hand to his sword as Sahshir mirrored the motion. For a moment, they held each other''s gaze. Then, the moment passed into what seemed an eternity.


    Then their blades were out and moving in a blur. They hacked and slashed at one another, parrying and slashing. Raj seemed to be enjoying the fight until; finally, Sahshir turned Raj''s blade. Bringing around a leg, he kicked the man''s legs out from under him and brought down his sword. He halted it over Raj''s throat.


    Then he noticed an iron point at his own throat. Raj was smiling, and he''d shot the thing from one sleeve. For a moment, they paused, then Sahshir stepped up. Raj rose quickly. "Well, you''re a bit more than rotting flesh and parched bone, after all. I''ll take the job with pride."


    "... Don''t even speak of my affliction lightly again," said Sahshir. "Or you''ll lose your crew, then your life."


    Raj laughed. "Fair enough, fair enough.


    "Up, you sea dogs! We''ve more than bruises ahead of us in the weeks to come! Who are they?"Sahshir left in disgust.


    No matter how many victories he won, he''d always be treated as less than a full warrior. Then, meeting his entourage, he saw another group.


    They were a sharp contrast to Sahshir''s Silent Guard. The new arrivals wore very little, and what they did wear left little to the imagination. Every one of them, man and woman, were universally beautiful to look at. Many had skin tinted reddish or purple, strange hair, and eye colors. They wore axes and curved swords and wore little armor.


    Narcissa was clad in more practical armor than last time at their head. Still black, with a huge axe. Her golden hair was hidden beneath a black, horned helmet that concealed all but her eyes. "Sahshir, I see you''re up to the usual."


    "Narcissa, I was not expecting you for some time," said Sahshir.


    "I''ve come ahead of the main column," said Narcissa. "Figured I''d see to it that my troops had proper lodging."


    "Well, I''m certain they could find lodging in you, beautiful." crowed Raj.


    Sahshir resisted the urge to stab him, and Narcissa came forward. "Is this Raj Danal?"


    "The same," said Raj.


    "You''re utterly repulsive," said Narcissa, voice matter of fact.


    "Well, if it exists, it appeals to someone," noted Raj.


    Narcissa blinked. "You''ve read the texts of Zigildrazia?"


    "I dabbled in them as a younger man, yes," said Raj. "Preferred blood to beds, so I gave myself to her lieutenant, Melchious. Still, I ought to ask you how your warriors will perform on the seas?"


    "I wouldn''t know; we haven''t been on them before now," said Narcissa. "Still, we faced an invasion by monsters and Dinis at once. So it should go well."


    "Lots of carnage?" asked Raj, voice eager.


    "Like you wouldn''t believe," said Narcissa. "Though many of the recruits I''m bringing with me weren''t combatants at the time?"


    "Find any good loot?" asked Raj.


    "If by ''loot'' you mean what we could salvage from the broken wreckage of our homeland, yes," said Narcissa, voice dark.


    "Still counts," said Raj with a shrug. "Now, why don''t we get to the nitty-gritty details of the fleet. Tell me what I''ll be commanding and your guidelines for me."


    And so began a meeting where Sahshir did explain all those things and more. Raj listened carefully, despite his outward appearance. Often he asked questions that Sahshir needed an answer for. Many of them were things that had yet to appear important. But Raj clearly did and demanded them. For example, certain vegetables were to be provided to his men. Apparently, to keep them in good health. That was one of many such requests.


    "No good going to see without a healthy crew," said Raj.


    Sahshir began to see that Raj had not gotten his position for nothing. He''d ended up having to send letters requesting certain supplies. Even so, his repulsive nature had Sahshir dearly wishing he were less of a legend.


    "Raj Danal certainly is smarter than he appears," said Narcissa afterward.


    "His grasp of raiding is unmatched. His talent for naval warfare is likewise flawless," said Sahshir, remembering the reading. "When he was fifteen, he led the crew of a merchant''s vessel to victory over two Dinis military vessels. He led them on a chase and saw them both broken on the reefs."


    "Do you think we can trust him?" asked Narcissa.


    "He has always acted loyally to Calisha, yes," said Sahshir.


    "Oh good," said Narcissa, sarcasm as she drew off her helm. "In Zigilus, everyone is loyal to Zigildrazia, not so much to each other. I''ve heard there were all kinds of backstabbing from my advisors." Her blonde hair fell around her shoulders and down her back. Sahshir privately thought she had looked better with her hair tied up.


    "It is a good thing to know," said Sahshir. Then he considered Narcissa''s own issues. "...Has there been any resurgence?"


    Narcissa sighed. "Amysta has not appeared again or manifested, no. She''s been quiet in the way she was before the fall of Zigilus. Though I think she was always at the back of my mind."


    "And what news from Baltoth?" asked Sahshir.


    "I received a letter from High King Suloth. He officially granted us sanctuary on behalf of Emperor Baltoth," said Narcissa. "I''m surprised you didn''t hear about it."


    "I did," said Sahshir. "However, I thought Baltoth might have some special requirements he asked of you. He and Amysta have been enemies more often than allies."


    "Well, they are siblings," noted Narcissa. "Alkela and I have our disagreements now and then. And I still wish she could come."


    "Have either of you ever tried to torture the other into insanity?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    Narcissa paused. "...Well, no."


    "Then you are not similar to Baltoth and Amysta," said Sahshir. "They clashed many times before Zigildrazia overthrew the latter. And cost each other dearly.


    "I would have expected Baltoth to have some kind of reaction."


    "I get the feeling that Baltoth isn''t really making decisions anyway," said Narcissa.


    "What?!" said Sahshir, hardly believing his ears.


    "Well, Suloth seems to be the one everyone seeks the approval of," said Narcissa. "All practical affairs go through him. He may use the Emperor''s seal, but it seems to me that he is the one in charge."


    "Emperor Baltoth does not act directly," said Sahshir, feeling like he were talking to a child. "His will infuses every being in all of Calisha. Therefore, all things that happen have been foreseen and accounted for.


    "Do not speak of Baltoth as though he were a mortal Emperor. He is inconceivable to mortals." He reminded himself that Narcissa had no experience in these matters.


    "Fair enough," said Narcissa, not understanding.


    At that moment, a man wearing the robes of a royal messenger rushed up to him on foot and kneeled, offering a scroll. "King Sahshir, I bear a message from Emperor Octavus of the Dinis Empire."


    "Give it to me," said Sahshir, taking the scroll. He saw the seal, broke it, and unrolled it.


    ''To the Chieftain of the Eastern Kalthakians,


    ''Your presence on the battlefield in service to Dinis is accepted. Meet my son on the island of Chaminus two weeks from there. Come to us, and we will discuss the details of your involvement.


    ''-The Empress Mother, Atria'' S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Chieftain?" asked Sahshir, deeply offended. And a message from the Emperor''s mother at that. He should consider depopulating Dinis. If only so, they would give him some respect. Wars had been started for less, after all. But, no, that would not be wise. Dinis had a direct border, in any case.


    So he would stick to his original plan.


    "What does it say?" asked Narcissa.


    "Far more than was intended." snarled Sahshir. "We have our permission. Find Raj, tell him to make ready for war."

 Chapter 228 - Four: Battle on the Seas

    Days later, Sahshir retched over the ship''s side into the bright blue sea. When he''d first seen it, it had been beautiful. Now that he was used to it, it was only a moderate distraction from his pain.


    A hand went to his shoulder. Retching once more, he finished and pulled his mask back on. Then, looking back to Narcissa, he saw her gazing at him in concern. She''d shed her armor for the moment and was clad in simple brown clothes that suited her far better. "Sahshir, are you alright?"


    "I am... well..." said Sahshir.


    "Seasickness is a common problem for those who first set foot on a ship," said Narcissa, who hadn''t suffered. "Or so people tell me."


    Laughter came from the rest of the crew. Sahshir glanced over to where Raj was directing his men. It wasn''t worth the trouble of killing them all, especially at sea. He might need this scum for something.


    "He fights like a demon in battle, but he has the sea legs of a lamb," noted Raj.


    "Watch your tone, Raj." snarled Sahshir.


    "Oh, far be it from me to offend you," said Raj. "I threw my guts up into the sea when I first rode her waves. It''s a custom among sailors."


    "How far are we from Chaminus?" asked Sahshir, scaling the steps.


    "Close enough," said Raj. "Assuming Dinis meets us there, we should see their fleets soon. Though I doubt we will."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Narcissa.


    Raj shrugged. "Eh, Dinis has never been what one could call a naval power. They''ve won one or two battles but never enough to gain dominance. Mostly they hold their own or get routed.""It is true, Narcissa," said Sahshir. "Dinis has mostly won wars on land."


    "Shouldn''t a leader know all this?" asked Raj. "Or are you more of a figurehead?"


    "The latter, actually," admitted Narcissa. "I don''t have much in the way of firsthand experience in leadership. Alkela is the one who has a flair for documentation; she always used to help Zarana with paperwork.


    "Though she really hates communicating with anyone. She prefers to just observe things as they play out. And it''s the youngers who really run things."


    "Youngers?" asked Raj.


    "Well, if someone gets old, as in ugly and wrinkled, they generally burned alive. If old people all die, they don''t take up resources, and we don''t have to look at them. We used to have burning festivals back when Zigilus was still standing.


    "There''d be all kinds of good food and hangings. They can''t work anyway, so it''s a much more efficient system," said Narcissa. "Or it was until somebody outlawed the practice." She glared at Sahshir, who glared back.


    "I make no apology. It''s a barbaric practice, and you are barbaric," said Sahshir flatly. "Old age is part of the natural order, and it is the responsibility of youth to respect and care for the aged. Deal with it."


    "What are these ''youngers'' though?" asked Raj.


    "Those who pleased Zigildrazia enough that they ascended into demonhood," said Narcissa. "Many of them were killed. But, Zigildrazia was able to bring back some of them. I''m a figurehead."


    "Yes, what would your people do without their eternal and neverending depravity?" asked Sahshir sarcastically. "And if you decide to have them all murdered, you have my full support."


    "Well, leave the matter to us then," said Raj. "Posing seductively is far more feminine a pursuit."


    "Zigildrazia''s texts say you ought to combine the two," said Narcissa.


    "Seems a waste of effort," said Raj. "I mean, you might end up permanently scarred or something. Waste of valuable property. Unless you''re an elf, they don''t scar at all."


    "There are spells for that," said Narcissa.


    They looked to the other ships within the fleet. They were several dozen in number. More a loose coalition of pirates loyal to Baltoth than a true fleet. Sahshir would eventually have to see some kind of organized command structure set up. If this campaign went well, he might arrange it.


    "Captain-" called a lookout.


    "Admiral to you, lad!" snapped Raj.


    "Admiral; we''ve a Sorn fleet approaching us!" said the lookout.


    "How many?" asked Raj.


    "Two dozen!" said the man.


    "Then we''ve got numbers," said Raj. "Set up the signal, mates! Prepare for war! We''ll see the curs running before the end!


    "Whose symbol is it above the mast?"


    "...House Magnious and their retainers." said the man.


    "Right, right," said Raj, "that makes sense. Kaba likes easy targets, so he wouldn''t try for this."


    "What do you mean by that?" asked Narcissa.


    "Well," said Raj, "Sorn is ruled by a council of nobles; well, they call them ''merchant lords,'' but they''re basically nobles. They just got their titles cause of how many people they cheated instead of how many people they killed. So all these merchants are always jockeying for power. Kaba and Magnious are the only ones with the power to get this kind of invasion down." He looked down. "Acton, get the sorcerers who lost the card game! Have them prepare to dose with malas!"


    "Malas?" asked Narcissa, voice horrified. "Do you know what that can do to people?"


    "Yes, but he won''t have to worry about it," said Raj. "Loser of the card game takes a massive dose and kill themselves, burning a ship."


    "We are not yet officially at war with Sorn," noted Sahshir, watching as the ships came into sight. Sure enough, there were two dozen of them. "It may be wise to let them strike first."


    "Well, we''ll have to get close for that," said Raj.


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    The men worked, and Sahshir watched as Raj''s men on the ship painted pentacles on the surface of the wood. They did it quickly, and several men went forward and set foot within each. As they did, a box of golden powder was opened, and each inhaled it. Their eyes went blank as they began to chant.


    At the same time, Raj gave orders, and the fleets charged toward eachother.


    Then a spear was launched from one of the ships. It shot straight toward Sahshir at lightning speed. Moving out of the way, he caught it under one elbow and turned the shaft in mid-air to plunge into the ground. Arrows landed, and one of the sorcerers was caught in the throat, along with several crewmen.


    Men with shields came to screen them, and the ritual was complete. "Well, I''d say that counts as a declaration," said Raj. "Set to work, lads!"


    "Yes, sir!" cried the sorcerers.


    Then they glowed with a bright, white light. As they did, they screamed, and six massive waves shot toward six Sornian ships. They collided, and hulls splintered as men were thrown from the fighting top. Some of the ships turned over completely as men floundered in the water. But the wind blew one of the ships away from the wave, saving it from destruction.


    Then the ships were closing.


    "Prepare to board!" cried Raj, looking like he was having the time of his life.


    Sahshir drew his sword, even as Narcissa returned in her armor, axe in hand. Already the Sornians were meeting with the other ships. Battles were being waged as men swung over the decks. Others threw down bridges and rushed over them to hack at one another. Sahshir deflected several arrows as they came up alongside the enemy vessel.


    A gangplank was thrown down, and Sahshir raised the Sword of Order. "FOR CALISHA!!"


    Then he charged across the plank before anyone else was ready. Two men went to meet him and lost their heads. Another blocked his sword with a shield. The blade cleaved through wood and body to cut him in half lengthwise. The enemy surrounded him as he weaved and slashed.


    Then Narcissa came in from behind, laying about her with her axe. The Silent Guard came as a shadow behind him. The others came afterward, and the enemy line buckled. Chaos overtook the deck as the battle continued.


    As Sahshir hacked his way through the enemy, he caught sight of a Calishan ship. The banner of Kalthak was being lowered and, in its place, was the symbol of House Magnious.


    Turning, he parried a thrust and hacked another man down.


    Sahshir fought all the harder, cutting down all he could. Soon the enemy crew was dead or taken captive.


    "Victory is ours!" cried Raj. "Now, let''s see if we can find another enemy to fight!"


    But the battle was largely over. The enemy fleet drew away, pausing only to pull men from the ocean. They had lost many ships but taken several as well. Sahshir could see the wreckage of several of his vessels on the water as though they''d been capsized.


    There wasn''t a bit of wind in the air.


    "The wind, it''s stopped," said Raj thoughtfully.


    "It doesn''t seem to have stopped for the enemy," said Narcissa.


    Sahshir looked out and saw the enemy retreating at an alarming rate. As though all the wind were being drawn into their sails. "Far from it." S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well then, that explains it," muttered Raj. "Garrick''s on that vessel. I suppose we''ll call this a draw."


    "On the contrary," said Sahshir. "The field is ours. Victory for Baltoth!"


    "Victory for Baltoth!" echoed the men with a cry.


    "Put back up those sails and let''s head for Chaminus," said Raj. "We''ll need to beach and repair ourselves at a port."


    "Who is Garrick?" asked Narcissa.


    "Worst enemy I ever faced," said Raj. "He has contacts with the spirits of the winds. A mercenary who works for the highest bidder. Even worse, you can''t bribe him to go away."


    "Well, I-" began Sahshir.


    Then he felt the agony return, all the stronger. He fell to one knee, shuddering as he tried to stand. Narcissa kneeled by him. "Sahshir, are you alright?"


    "...The pain is worse. It used to be numb," said Sahshir, feeling as if his skin would fall off.


    "What happened to you to make you like that?" asked Raj. "If you don''t mind me asking."


    "A curse from the goddess Laevian. It was passed down through Tuor''s descendants," said Sahshir."I''m sorry," said Raj.


    It was the first time Raj had seemed anything close to contemplative.


    They saw no sign of the Sornian Fleet for the next few days. Even so, Sahshir was worried. While it had been a victory, the Sornians had given as well as they had gotten despite being outnumbered. Worse still, Sahshir suspected this was merely a vanguard for a far larger fleet.


    "What''s wrong?" asked Narcissa.


    "I''m not certain we can win this war," said Sahshir after a moment.


    "Why not?" asked Narcissa.


    "Sorn has far more experience with ships than us," said Sahshir. "They also have greater numbers at that. So even cooperating with Dinis, we may well be overwhelmed."


    "So do you want to seek terms?" asked Narcissa.


    "Of course not." scoffed Sahshir. "One does not give ground to the enemy except to destroy them later. Besides, the very fact that Sorn has overwhelming power indicates that we must fight them now.


    "Let them take McShore, and they''ll target Chaminus next. From there, they''ll be able to strike out shores with impunity.


    "Better to risk bad odds now than face impossible odds later."


    "So, what is our plan?" asked Narcissa. "Dictate terms in Suvera?"


    "No," said Sahshir. "Not yet.


    "We''ll put ourselves as allies to Dinis. This is their war. We''ll act in their interest and let them handle the diplomacy. If they are wise, they''ll agree to terms that restore the old borders and give Sorn some benefits. From there, they can renegotiate by the sword later when they are stronger.


    "If not, they''ll die gloriously."


    "So you don''t think they can win," said Narcissa.


    "Simple analysis dictates the futility of their cause," said Sahshir. "They''ve got monsters roaming their lands. So they will be unable to focus their full power on the sea. Moreover, their fleet is less numerous and less skilled than Sorn''s.


    "Even if a stunning victory is won against Sorn, Sorn will recover and return for blood. If Dinis suffers one major defeat, they''ll be out of the war. Our assistance will probably prolong the war to an extent. But I fully expect we''ll all be dead by this end."


    "Then why did you march to war?" asked Narcissa.


    "All men die," said Sahshir. "And I will die soon. So why not die in glory?"


    "That''s it?" asked Narcissa.


    "I''ve also dispatched letters to Ruscow informing them of the situation," admitted Sahshir. "If we stalemate the enemy long enough, the main Calishan Kingdoms may become involved. Then we may have a chance of victory."


    "You don''t sound enthusiastic," noted Narcissa.


    "If Calisha takes Dinis'' side, Sorn will probably go to Harlenor for support," said Sahshir. "Our vendetta with them is as old as their Kingdoms. They will not want Calisha to destroy Sorn for fear of a beachhead. This would result in a massive war between the east and west. One that would likely annihilate entire nations. Millions could die.


    "So, I hope you don''t take it personally when I say that I sincerely hope we die to little effect."


    Silence fell over them then as they stared into the mist. Then, suddenly, it cleared, and they saw a great island. There was a mountain at the center of it, with several towns upon it. The towns were built in a strange style, like that of Kalthak, but with red stone. There were many trees throughout the cities. Sahshir saw that harbor had little in the way of fortifications on it.


    "Is that Chaminus?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes," said Sahshir. "Macshore is some leagues beyond. There is the banner of Dinis, but I do not see many ships."


    "Run up the flag of parley and bring our vessel forward," said Raj, coming forward. "We''ll see how well they like us before we approach."


    "We have permission from their Emperor," noted Narcissa.


    "Oh, true enough." began Raj. "That doesn''t mean that-"


    And then, a massive serpent emerged from the water with shimmering scales. It rose high above, with golden frills rising around it. It looked down on them with swirling, multicolored eyes as a forked tongue hissing. Behind the head rose a vast body that towered over them.


    Sahshir had never seen a golden dragon before. Now he realized why they were so famed in Kalthak. Yet he had always thought they dwelled in the wastes between East and West Kalthak. What was it doing in the ocean?


    "What is your business in Chaminus, Kalthakian?" asked the serpent, voice a low hiss.


    "I am Abdul Sahshir, King of Eastern Kalthak, and I have come to aid Dinis against the fleets of Sorn," said Sahshir. "Who am I speaking to?"


    "I am Shalteth, Servant of Chaminus," said Shalteth. "You are expected. You may dock with all the rest of your fleets."


    "Where are the fleets of Dinis?" asked Sahshir.


    "They have not yet come," said Sheltath. "The Emperor will be leading his forces here soon.""So be it," said Sahshir. Just like the Emperor to be late.


    "A warning," said Sheltath. "Do not harm any upon this land, or it will be the last thing you ever do."


    Sahshir nodded. "I understand."


    If it came to it, he expected he could kill Sheltath. But there was no reason to be discourteous. And he had no intention of starting a fight anyway. Chances were the island would be burned up with or without his help anyway.

 Chapter 229 - Five: Arrival

    Sahshir, Narcissa, and Raj stepped off the vessel onto the pier. Around them, Sahshir saw the ships pulling to a halt, laden with many boxes and barrels. Others were being loaded by cranes onto ships. The dock itself was filled with all manner of people hastily unloading supplies. There were Babarassians and Harlenorians, and Drens in particular. Most common of all were the olive-skinned Dinisians. All were watched over by blue-plumed guards bearing pikes and armor. Their helms were of fine metal that gleamed in the sun, and many had long mustaches. A dignified-looking official could be seen speaking with one of the merchants.


    Worryingly enough, there were bars on the street corners. Though they seemed to at least be less seedy than those in Saladus. They were kept clean, and no men were in the gutters. Nor could Sahshir see any sign of beggars on street corners or anything.


    What kind of barbarians drank alcohol? Baltoth had forbidden it for a reason. Yet it seemed his teachings were being slowly forgotten even in his domain. Rammas'' rebellion left a legacy indeed.


    "This place seems nice enough," said Narcissa, shouldering her axe. She looked at the Dinisians warily, no doubt remembering the legion torching her city. "Still, where is everyone?"


    "We''re hardly the most magnificent of fleets," noted Raj warily.


    But someone did meet them at the end of the pier. She was a girl a little younger than Sahshir, with long, light pink hair, and was thin. She wore a red outfit, a combination of shirt and skirt, and a knife at her side. On either side of her were men in blue samurai armor. Both must have been immensely expensive, and the katanas at their side were excellent.


    Sahshir felt somewhat conscientious about his own simple black armor. Hardly superior to his Silent Guard, save for the gold.


    "Greetings to you, King Sahshir," said the girl, bowing. "I am Serna, seneschal of King Nagos of Chaminus. I am here on his behalf to welcome you here."


    "Where is the King himself?" asked Sahshir, feeling he should be offended.


    "He was; he has an unexpected development to take care of," said Serna, which made Sahshir believe she did not know. "If you wait, I am certain he will arrive soon.


    "If you follow me, I will gladly escort you and your entourage to the palace while the matter is settled."


    "In truth, I''d prefer to explore this island myself," said Sahshir. "I need no guards."


    "That seems perfectly reasonable," said Serna. She glanced at the vessels, ragged from battle. "Um, is this the vanguard of the fleet?"


    "We had a battle on the way here and routed a Sorn force," said Sahshir flatly.


    Serna sighed. "Then, war is certain."


    "War is here," said Sahshir. "Are you not somewhat young to act as a seneschal?"


    Serna paused. "King Nagos would have no one else. He has... odd preferences. Perhaps we should discuss the repair of your ships. Admiral Yin is the head of our navy, and I believe he desired to discuss plans." She motioned to one of the blue-clad samurai, who stepped forward. Now that Sahshir looked at it, he saw that the armor had no demon symbols on the mask. Instead, it bore the face of a familiar woman. He''d seen the likeness many times.


    "Very well, then," said Sahshir.


    He glanced at Raj. "Raj, I leave the discussions to you. Provide me with a full report once the matter is concluded. And see to it that your men behave themselves. If a single citizen of this island is injured, if a single place is damaged. I''ll take the heads of those responsible."


    "Yes, yes, understood," said Raj.


    "Are we going or what?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes, of course," said Sahshir. "Tell me, Serna, is there a shrine to Safara on this island? I believe I should pay my respects." If only to spite Garacel.


    Serna shifted. "Um, are you certain you don''t want to go to the palace first? Safara is a patient deity and will gladly wait for you to rest."


    "I detest luxury," said Sahshir. "And I would prefer to pray immediately."


    "Well," Serna shifted, "the shrine of Safara is near the knees of the mountain if you wish to make an offering. I shall lead you there if you wish."


    "I wish it," said Sahshir.


    He nodded to Yin, who returned the motion and moved to speak with Raj. Privately Sahshir suspected that Chaminus would be a far better seaman than his countrymen. It would be best to cooperate.


    Serna led Sahshir and Narcissa through the streets. As they walked, Sahshir glanced at Serna. "Tell me, when did a Serpent Shrine come to this island?"


    "It was when King Nagos'' predecessor ruled," said Serna. "Safaranism started among slaves in Macshore and other islands, you see. It was believed it would be a good way to prevent slave revolts. But it was only a short time before it spread to some lower classes.


    "King Trasos chose to erect the shrine here. It was the great building of his reign." sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    She pointed, and Sahshir saw a great serpent statue on a ridge surrounded by trees. And yet it was not a statue but a building. A great cobra with a fire within its mouth. He turned to the streets and noticed the people did not seem keen to bow. They wore less than those in his homeland but far more than those from Zigilus and seemed unmindful.


    "What do you mean by ''great building?''" asked Narcissa.


    "Every King of Chaminus has to perform some construction project," said Serna. "Nagos has been lagging on doing so, however. He''s, well, we''re working on a different project."


    "What project?" asked Sahshir.


    "I''m not allowed to speak of it," said Serna. "But, well, I expect you''ll find out soon if the war does happen."


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    Some sort of weapon?


    Soon, Sahshir and Narcissa were led to the shrine. As he did, he marveled at the craftsmanship of the building. Every structure in this land was made with many strange designs. Most buildings were old and well-built but simple. But the serpent shrine was magnificent up close. He had to crane his neck to see the top as he neared the entry, making him dizzy.


    Entering the domain, he found the statues of Safara.


    There were, as was tradition, three of them painted. All three were of the same stunningly beautiful woman with hair painted red and tan painted skin. She had the lower body of a serpent. One had long red hair tied above her head in a vast ponytail and wore a red and gold brassiere. The next had her hair falling around her shoulders and bore two scimitars. Last, the third statue had her hair down, two long horns, and six arms, each holding a blade. She was bare breasts, and her mouth was wide open, a forked tongue stuck out.


    "Why are there three?" asked Narcissa. "Or are they sisters?"


    "Each one represents a different aspect of Safara and her domain of love and passion," said Sahshir. "The first is Safara the Dutiful. That is passion within the bounds of the restrictions of society. The second is Safara, the Unleashed. Passion unleashed within appropriate circumstances. Last of all is Safara the Consumer.


    "Only the most obsessive pray to her."


    "Why?" asked Narcissa.


    "Safara is," Serna paused, "well, she has some strange beliefs. Safarans believe that the ultimate form of existence is to be in a state of love. Safara loves everything and everything with an obsessiveness that defies belief.


    "One prays to Safara the Dutiful to endure hardship. One prays to Safara the Unleashed to gain something you desire greatly. But praying to Safara the Consumer, for anything is... unwise.


    "If you do it, what you desire may be granted. But if it is, Safara will consume you after your death. Your soul will be remade in her image. You will effectively become her."


    Narcissa frowned. "Right."


    "Will you be praying here?" asked Serna. "Or shall I speak to the priestess-"


    "I do not make use of such services," said Sahshir. "They are immoral, and I have an incurable skin disease."


    "What services?" asked Narcissa.


    "Safaran religion believes in unconditional love," said Serna. "Thus, they see nothing wrong with prostitution. For a donation, the priestesses offer themselves."


    "Oh, right," said Narcissa. "Could you show me to these priestesses?"


    "Um," Serna shifted, "are you certain that-"


    "Everyone among my kind is attracted to both genders," said Narcissa. "Zigildrazia bred out the other orientations generations ago."


    "Ah," said Serna, "I''ll take you to see them. Just pay attention to the badges they wear. Priestesses of Safara tend to look like her after a few years."


    So Serna led Narcissa out, and Sahshir felt privately sick. However, this was not the time to check Zigildrazian depravity.


    Sahshir was left alone and no longer had anything to distract him from the pain. Moving forward, he reflected that Garacel had once held this domain. Lover eternal, he had been called. It was strange that love and war had been so associated in the days of Garacel. Though Safara had a different method.


    Sahshir considered his options. Safara the Consumer was out of the question. Falling apart though he may have been, he would prefer to remain himself. To, in some life, be judged worthy of being one of Baltoth''s Immortals and taking his place at the table of Baelgost. Safara the Dutiful was an option, but this was a war. Yes, it was Safara the Unleashed he must pray to. Kneeling before Safara the Unleashed, he set his sword before his knees. "Safara, favored daughter of Baltoth, I have not prayed to you before.


    "My strength is waning. My flesh is being consumed. Grant me the strength to gain victory here, and I shall devote every kill I make to your name. Every warrior I slay in this war shall be done for your sake."


    For a moment, there was only silence. Sahshir waited there in silent meditation, communing with the spirit beyond.


    Then the pain in Sahshir''s body began to lift. No glow radiated from the statue, but the light fell on it strangely. Rising up, Sahshir sheathed his sword and turned to walk out.


    Outside, he tensed and halted. Looking up, he saw a boy clad in white lounging on top of the doorframe. He had short, blonde hair and blue eyes and shifted to look down at him. "Oh, hey. You look new here, and I know almost everyone on this island. Who are you?"


    How could he know everyone?


    "I am King Abdul Sahshir of Eastern Kalthak," said Sahshir, annoyed at the lack of respect.


    "Wow, a King, huh." said the boy. "That sounds like something really interesting. Have you fought in many battles? Ruled over any court cases?"


    "A few," said Sahshir.


    "You''re not really one for conversation, are you?" asked the boy.


    "Not really," admitted Sahshir.


    "So what''s with the mask, anyway?" asked the boy. "You trying to look mysterious or something?"


    "My body is disfigured," said Sahshir flatly. He wondered if his blade was in range.


    "Oh, well, this is awkward." said the boy. "So what are you doing out here in Chaminus? Your ships took a real beating, didn''t they?"


    "We had a battle with Sornian ships," said Sahshir.


    "Wow, that sounds interesting." said the boy. "I''ve heard the Sornians go around kidnapping people and selling them into slavery."


    "Everyone does that," noted Sahshir.


    "Yeah, but the Sornians have these huge slave markets." said the boy. "They are where most of the slaves that people seize in battle end up. Then they sell them to plantations to be worked to death. They''re unpleasant."


    This boy was either a good liar or had seen things off this island. That implied he''d had a career of some kind. "Who are you, exactly?"


    The boy dropped down. "I''m Nagos, the King of Chaminus. Well, more of a Prince. I sort of run things around here."


    "If that''s the case, what are you doing here?" asked Sahshir. "You ought to have met with us.""Asking questions," said Nagos. "I like to know things about everyone who comes into my island. And I wanted to see how you''d speak to someone unimportant."


    "Aren''t you concerned about the danger?" asked Sahshir.


    "Eh, not really," admitted Nagos. "Most people like me."


    "And where do you stand on the war?" asked Sahshir.


    "Oh, you mean the thing going on between Sorn and Dinis?" asked Nagos. "Don''t care about it, to be honest."


    "How can you not care?" asked Sahshir. "Chaminus is a protectorate of Dinis. So if Dinis is weakened, it affects you."


    "Now see, you''re talking like those words your saying have any meaning," said Nagos. "Dinis and Sorn are words used to describe many different people. Neither of them does anything. Instead, individual people within Sorn and Dinis do things.


    "Nations are words we use to describe the sum of our choices.


    "I care what the Emperor decides to do. I care what Sorn merchants decide to do. I don''t care what their nations do because they don''t do anything."


    "If that''s the case, why did you describe the men of Sorn as unpleasant," asked Sahshir.


    "Well, names exist for a reason," said Nagos. "When I said ''Sorn'' I was saying ''Sorn raiders.'' The people who choose to hurt innocent people to make a profit. And all the people who give them an incentive.


    "Although I wouldn''t judge any of them until I met them, come to think of it."


    "What plans do you have, anyway?" asked Sahshir, finding Nagos bewildering.


    "Plans?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes, to deal with Sorn," said Sahshir, amazed he had to clarify.


    "Eh, I''m not big on planning," said Nagos. "I''m sure things will work out for the best as long as we all do our best."


    "What world do you live in?" asked Sahshir.


    "An island, of course. Though I guess people can connect between islands on boats," said Nagos. "What was the metaphor about?"


    "There wasn''t one," said Sahshir flatly.


    "Hey, do you want to have a meal?" asked Nagos. "I have this excellent cook."


    Sahshir blinked. "I would have to retrieve my entourage."


    "Fine, we can bring them too," said Nagos.


    And then Serna came back. She halted as she saw Nagos and rushed up to him. "Nagos, what are you doing? Can''t you just wander off when a fleet enters the harbor? What if they''d attacked?"


    "Oh, Serna, there you are," said Nagos. "I think we both know Yin would do the commanding. I''m just talking to him anyway."


    "That''s the King of Kalthak, Nagos!" said Serna. "You have... I..."


    "I will accept your invitation," said Sahshir, realizing Nagos hadn''t known who he was.


    "Great," said Nagos, "let''s wait for your other friend, and then we can go."


    Nagos had certainly been different from what Sahshir expected. He was curious whether this was a good or a bad thing.

 Chapter 230 - Six: The Son of Safara

    After several meetings with Raj and Admiral Yin, they had to arrange their men''s lodging. Yin proved a formal, quiet man who spoke only when necessary and usually in short sentences. Apparently, he had served under Nagos'' Father. Sahshir made the arrangements himself. Narcissa, meanwhile, had an argument with Raj about several things.


    Nagos said very little during these. Sahshir almost thought he was daydreaming. But several times, he''d sit up and ask some questions that threw Raj or Yin for a loop. It was clear Nagos was far less flippant than he pretended to be.


    When those were over, they retired in the waning daylight to eat. As they did, a satyr played flute by a roaring fire. Sahshir felt awkward, sitting with his mask in place with a sword when everyone else was clad in fine garments. He''d explained why he needed the blade, and Nagos had accepted.


    However, he had forgotten to mention that he always ate in private. Now Nagos was looking at him in concern as a meal was served. "Aren''t you going to eat anything?"


    "I usually eat in private," admitted Sahshr. "My face is not something pleasant to look at." But, as was the custom, he hadn''t eaten with Father or his men for years before he left. Likely that was why Uncle had felt he could remove him.


    "It''s only flesh and skin, Sahshir," said Nagos. "The body you were born in isn''t you. It''s just the thing you live in like a house. There are plenty of people in nice houses who are rotten to the core and plenty of good people who live in glass ones. I mean, rotten ones.


    "Nevermind."


    Sahshir wondered if Nagos actually believed what he said. There was a test. "Very well, you may wish to avert your eyes."


    Serna seemed about to, but Nagos put a hand on her shoulder. Sahshir gripped his mask and drew it off. Serna put a hand to her mouth but said nothing. Nagos shrugged.


    "Well, that''s not nearly as bad as you made it sound," said Nagos. "Now, why don''t we eat?"


    So they ate. Sahshir found the foot to be heavily spiced and very rich. It was, however, absolutely delicious. Narcissa wolfed down large portions of it, probably a stint from her time on the street.


    "So, what do you think of the food?" asked Nagos,


    Sahshir found he had to eat slowly. Once he ate too much and almost choked. "It is excellent. However, I''m not used to such rich foods. In Kalthak, we do not use seasoning."


    "But do you like it?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes," said Sahshir. So why did he always press questions?


    "It''s wonderful," asked Narcissa. "How did you make these?"


    "Well, they use some spices that we can get through trade routes," said Nagos. "That was five years ago before I became King."


    Five years? "When did you ascend?" asked Sahshir.


    "Two years ago," said Serna. "Nagos and I went all over before the Priestess of Safara found us. At the time, I was working with some pirates as a deckhand, but my bloodlines were right."


    "You worked as a deckhand?" asked Sahshir, remembering his constant training. He''d taken to fighting like a fish to water. But Aresh, their Father before he became Tuor, had forced him to train in it constantly. He''d said that the ability to protect one''s people was the most essential virtue a king could have.


    "It''s not something we usually talk about," said Serna. "Still, we''ve gotten quite a bit done. Nagos'' relationship with the various pirate leaders has let us avoid their raids. He made favorable deals with them."


    A man opened the door and rushed in. "King Nagos, we have a problem!"


    What manner of King let himself be called on like an ordinary servant? Sahshir thought for sure Nagos would flare up at this. But he just smiled and stood up. "What is it, Sunshin?"


    "A merchant is accusing another of fraud." said the man. "We need you to meditate."


    "Fine, fine, I''ll be there," said Nagos. "Just keep them in place. Being King is a pain in my neck." Then he walked out.


    Sahshir was not sure what to think. Nagos seemed to regard his duties as a hassle, yet he did them from what he saw. Was he putting on an act? But why demonstrate such a familiar presence with his inferiors? A King must put forth an aura of strength.


    "Your King is... eccentric," said Narcissa.


    "I know," said Serna. "His Father was killed in battle with Sorn, and he was taken as a hostage when he was very young. But the ship was attacked by pirates when he was on his way to Sorn. So he grew up in one of the pirate towns all over the islands of power.


    "That''s where I met him. My family lived there, we were the descendants of slaves taken, and we became friends. By the time I was born, we''d become well off."


    "So, how did he get back here?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, the Kings of this Island are all of an extraordinary bloodline. One descended from the God of Friendship, who''s long since dead," said Serna. "Some priests ran into him on the island and realized he was the heir. At the time, Dinis was making plans to replace the King. So the priests feared that Dinis would try to annex the place fully.


    "So they went and brought us back. Nagos wanted me to come with him, so we did."


    "Does anyone respect him?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    "Well, they all like him," said Serna. "And he generally can be relied on to make good decisions and take advice. The problem is he doesn''t really care about formality at all."


    They spoke of other things for a time. The flute playing was quite enchanting, Sahshir thought to himself. He''d never known satyrs had any music talent. And he learned a great deal. It quickly became apparent that Nagos was very active in the day-to-day affairs of the island.


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    But rather than putting on the image of an invincible King of letting others come to him, he walked the streets. Not in disguise, as Baltoth was said to do, but as himself and in regular clothes. As if he regarded being King as merely an unwanted responsibility that came up now and then. If Serna was to be believed, he had used this casual style of rule to know things that might have been hidden.


    Sahshir had once contemplated such a path.


    He''d had to settle for eavesdropping from windows under cover of darkness. Then, when given a given sum, he did the math himself and checked it against others. His concern was for what the people were doing, not who they were.


    As Nagos came back, he looked a bit stressed. "Sorry, sorry, the matter is concluded. I''ve gotten the two to settle the matter without punishment."


    "Telagix, could you play another tune," said Nagos. "Something more lively."


    The satyr bowed and removed the instrument from his lips. "Of course, King Nagos."


    And he began to play another tune.


    "How did you come to employ a satyr?" asked Sahshir, curious despite himself.


    "Telagix used to make a living playing on the Islands of Power," said Nagos. "I believe he worked for King Alcaides for a while. Though that was before I joined him. We worked together as performers for a time. Then some pirates attacked our ship and all that fell apart. Still, no helping that.


    "I freed him from McShore I became King and convinced him to come here."


    "He''s very skilled," said Narcissa, smiling. "I used to dance to this kind of music. Or, well, the other members of my troupe used to dance. I was pulled out of it before I came of age."


    "Do you want to show us?" asked Nagos.


    Sahshir was about to open his mouth to object. But Narcissa spoke first. "Well, I am a bit rusty. But I guess I could try."


    "We should discuss the war," said Sahshir. However, he drew the line of bringing that abhorrent culture into things. "Away from our officers, I mean."


    "Oh right, that whole thing," said Nagos, pretending to not remember it. "We ought to wait for the Emperor, shouldn''t we?" But he glanced at Serna.


    "I''ve gotten the reports from Admiral Yin. So it should be ready in time," said Serna. "The only question is how well it works."


    "What is it''?" asked Sahshir.


    "A new kind of weapon we''re devising," said Nagos. "Steam canons, as we call them. Serna figured out how to use steam to propel balls of stone and iron through the air like a catapult. Only far more deadly.


    "I think it might just win the war."


    "When did you start the development?" asked Narcissa.


    "Well, my father worked on it for some years and got down some general principles," said Serna. "But Nagos put us to work on creating it as soon as he became King.


    "He said that Sorn would start another war soon, and nobody believed him."


    "You can figure these things out if you just pay attention," said Nagos. "Sorn is always looking to expand, and Dinis is fading. So it was only a matter of time before things flared up. And all the warning signs were there. It''s just that everyone except me was asleep.


    "Serna, what was that letter Octavus sent to us about?" He sipped his drink.


    "Apparently, he plans to come personally to oversee the victory," said Serna.


    Nagos choked and nearly spat out his water. "Oversee the victory? What victory?"


    "I think he is talking about the battle we haven''t won yet," said Serna. "Sometimes Kings count their chickens before they hatch."


    Sahshir came to a realization. "You were a peasant?"


    "Hmm, well, no," said Serna. "Technically, I was a commoner, but my parents were training me to become a scribe. And Father was quite well-read and well-off. That''s a much higher rank, and we hoped we''d go up in the world."


    "Why not join the military?" asked Narcissa.


    "She said she wanted to go up, not down," said Nagos.


    Sahshir felt mortally offended by that. "Down?"


    Nagos flinched as he saw Sahshir. "Well, um, you see, the Islands of Power took on a lot of Naminaen refugees after Kalthak was conquered by your people. So we''ve always believed the quill is much more important to a stable society than a sword."


    "Do you have a quill here?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Nagos, drawing one from a pocket. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Hand it to me," said Sahshir.


    Nagos obeyed. Sahshir stood up, threw the pen into the air, and cut it in two with his sword. Then, catching the pieces out of the air, he returned it and sat down as he sheathed his sword. "Warriors and farmers are the most important elements of society. If the artisan ceased to work, men could still fight and plow. If the scribe ceased to write, men could still fight and plow. But if farmers ceased to reap the fields, all would starve. And if the warrior ceased fighting, all would be consumed."


    "By other warriors, you mean," noted Serna. "If nobody fought, there wouldn''t be a need for warriors."


    "If we did not thirst, there would be no need for water," said Sahshir. "If we did not hunger, food would not be needed. But we do thirst, and we do hunger. So I do not see how that changes anything."


    "Focus, focus," said Nagos. "How are we going to beat Sorn? And are you going to pay me back for that quill?"


    "Truth be told, I planned to leave the matter to Raj Danal and your Admiral," said Sahshir. "If things go badly and I survive, I can blame it all on him. And given my own lack of skill with naval affairs, I fully expect I''ll botch it if I command.


    "As for a quill, surely you could have another one made in seconds."


    "It''s the principle of the thing," said Nagos. "I always make my own. You should-"


    "The war, Nagos," said Serna.


    Nagos sighed. "It''s not a good plan. Octavus is younger than me and really arrogant. If we don''t command, he might. You can tell from his letters he thinks he''s way more important than he actually is.


    "At least the ones that aren''t sent by his Mother."


    "If he has no talent for war, why would he be Emperor?" asked Sahshir, remembering the valor and ruthless power of the legions.


    "His mother put him on the throne after his father died of poison," said Nagos. "See, Octavus II was the one who really turned things toward Safara''s worship. Naturally, the Zigildrazians didn''t like that."


    "I remember Zarana had us celebrate that day once a year" said Narcissa.


    "Zarana?" asked Serna.


    "The woman who raised me," said Narcissa.


    "In any case, Octavus has never been the war, and when he ordered Zigilus destroyed, he wasn''t even there," said Nagos. "My guess is he wants to prove himself, and he assumes that he''ll win because he is invincible. Or something like that."


    "What is your point?" asked Sahshir.


    "You never want someone who thinks they are invincible in charge," said Nagos. "I''ve swabbed the decks of pirates who think like that, and they never last long. You need to be open to being wrong to be a good leader.


    "So, we''ve got to win this war before he ever gets here."


    "How can we do that?" asked Sahshir, surprised at his boldness. "Sorn has not even mobilized yet."


    "Easy," said Nagos. "We just set things up on the board, so no matter what happens, we can''t lose. That way, the Emperor won''t have a chance to screw everything up."


    "Baltoth has written of such strategies," said Sahshir, remembering his lessons. "They are powerful when wielded correctly. But, if misused, it can close your mind to opportunities."


    "Fine, so let''s chase some opportunities," said Nagos.


    "What do you have in mind?" asked Narcissa.


    "I say that since all of us are delegating authority, we get off this island," said Nagos. "We can head to some of my old friends and see if we can get them to help."


    "Nagos, you''re a King!" said Serna. "You can''t just drop everything and go talk with Pirate Kings! And they aren''t your friends."


    "Fine, fine, negotiate then," said Nagos. "If we can get some of them to help us, it could give us the edge we need to win."


    "It sounds like a worthwhile idea," said Sahshir. However, he said that considering that the war was, as things stood, hopeless. "But what assurances do you have they''ll listen?"


    "None," admitted Nagos with a shrug. "But it''s either that or eat noodles until Octavus finally arrives."


    "What if he gets here while you''re away," asked Serna. "He might take it as an insult."


    "Tell him we''re getting more allies," said Nagos. "What''s he going to do, punish us for giving him a better chance at victory?"


    Serna sighed. "... You''re not going to negotiate on this, are you?"


    "No," admitted Nagos.


    Sahshir shrugged. "Let us try for it."


    "Great," said Nagos. "Then tomorrow, we''ll set sail for adventure!"


    The door opened, and Admiral Yin entered. He kneeled and set a hand over his heart. "King Nagos, the Emperor''s flagship, has been sighted."


    "...Or not," said Nagos, with the air of a boy caught stealing apples. "You want to go to meet him?"


    "We have little choice," admitted Sahshir.


    If nothing else, Sahshir could meet the man or order Zigilus obliterated. And possibly offer him congratulations when Narcissa was out of earshot.

 Chapter 231 - Seven: The Emperor Arrives

    Nagos was now dressed in a red robe with a tight black vest around the chest. On his head was a black cap, and he looked very solemn on the docks. Before them, the Emperor''s flagship was coming into the harbor. On either side of them was an honor guard of blue-clad warriors with long spears. Sahshir had set up his Silent Guard just beyond them. The two factions were glaring at one another. And between them could be witnessed the ships of Dinis, a vast fleet arrayed outside the island. Most of the vessels were far larger than those used by Kalthak or Chaminus. Particularly Nagos'' craft, which were repurposed merchant vessels. They were made for speed and maneuverability with small crews.


    Sahshir had not been allowed to take a closer look at one. His Silent Guard had asked to be dispatched to check, but this was not allowed. Nagos had a right to keep secret his ships if he so desired, and Sahshir had no reason to suspect treachery.


    Enough to demonstrate his presence without appearing to be throwing his weight around. Glancing at Nagos, he noticed him fighting. "Serna, why do I have to wear this?" he whispered to Serna.


    "You know why," said Serna. "And not so loud. This is the Emperor of Dinis who is coming. Now, remember, Nagos, you have to prostrate yourself before him when he comes. That is the way things work here."


    "I know, I know," said Nagos, rolling eyes.


    Sahshir scoffed as the gangplank was put down, and guards marched down to clear the way. Serna looked at Sahshir. "Um, King Sahshir, are you planning to-"


    "No," said Sahshir flatly. "Kalthakians bow to their Lord and Master. They prostrate themselves before no one."


    "Octavus ordered my entire city destroyed," said Narcissa. "I''m not bowing to him."


    "Octavus is the Serpent''s Son," said Serna. "The head of the Safaran religion. You must at least show deference when you meet him, or it could be considered a grave insult."


    "In that case, I will communicate with him purely through letters," replied Sahshir. "No King of Kalthak has ever prostrated themselves before any ruler. Not even Baltoth is afforded such an honor, and he would not want it if he was."


    "Why are you so opposed to prostration?" asked Serna. "It''s a sign of respect."


    "To kneel or bow is a display of respect," said Sahshir. "To prostrate is to humiliate yourself for another. No worthwhile ruler would ever ask a loyal subordinate to do so. And if they were not loyal, it would be a lie. Kalthakians do not lie."


    "Except all the times they do," noted Nagos.


    Sahshir had to concede his point. "Kalthakians should not lie."


    "Fine," hissed Serna. "but if we get beheaded, this is your fault."


    "You don''t really intend to go through with this humiliation?" asked Sahshir, looking to Nagos.


    Nagos sighed. "It''s just lying down, Sahshir. And it could cause problems if we don''t do it. I''ve already explained things to the people."


    "King Sahshir, would it be too much to ask if perhaps you could relocate somewhere less obvious?" asked Serna. "If you mean to remain defiant, it would be better if it was not a public display."


    Sahshir conceded the point. "As you wish. Come, Narcissa."


    Turning, he went over to the shadows of a nearby building and faded into them. Narcissa looked for him and evidently could not find him. Then she sighed. "Fine, I wasn''t interested in meeting the bastard anyway."


    She did not stalk into the shadows. She flat-out took her guard and walked off. Sahshir remembered the corpses made by the legions. He concluded it was not an unjustified response. If the Emperor would make this display and then keep them waiting. There was little reason beyond pragmatism to humor him.


    And here they came. Sahshir saw an opulently dressed man come forward, clad in fine gold and red and flanked by two guards. He certainly wore enough obscenely expensive garments to be an Emperor. "I give you the Serpent''s Son, the Emperor of Dinis, He Who is Beyond Reproach, Emperor Octovus III himself, and the Empress Mother, Catria!"


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    And down came the procession from the plank. Eight magnificently dressed guards came down. They were surrounded by a litter that was shielded by silken curtains. Two figures could be seen within. So down it came, and Sahshir privately hoped the gangplank would break.


    It could cause problems, but such unbridled hubris would be a fitting reward. So down they came, and the guards fanned out. The curtain was pulled aside, and out of it, they came.


    Sahshir barely contained his laughter. He couldn''t stop himself from letting out a chuckle. So these were the divine beings that these idiots were obsessing over? The woman, well, she was beautiful after a fashion, but she had no muscle tone. She carried no weapon; even Nagos could have forced himself on her, were he so inclined. Yet she thought she was powerful from how she looked around at those assembled.


    Sahshir reminded himself that she might be powerful, even competent. Then he looked to the other. A boy about his age, very fair with almost angelic features. But the scornful, spoiled expression on his face ruined it. A sword was at his side, but he was obviously not trained for war.


    One dagger would be all it took.


    Well, probably not. And it would lead to a brutal massacre. Was this the Emperor who ordered an entire city obliterated? Surely not. Perhaps an imposter, or a bastard, or a lover?


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    Nagos and Serna were prostrating themselves before him. Now Sahshir didn''t feel like laughing so much for turning the war around. He only prayed the Emperor was delegating responsibility to someone with more experience. Perhaps a peasant who would understand men needed to eat. Or a merchant who understood that men would not work if they were not paid.


    The Prince, Sahshir, might have refused to think of him as an Emperor but knew all these things. But knowing and understanding were two very different things. With his pampered appearance, understanding was out of the question. It could be an illusion, of course. But if an Emperor presented himself like this, it did not bode well for his intelligence.


    His mother was a Haldrenian, wasn''t she? He could tell by her fair complexion. Some harlot taken into the previous Emperor''s harem. One who pulled enough strings to put Octovus on the throne? Or had it fallen naturally to him by virtue of hereditary rule? Either seemed possible.


    At any rate, the harlot and the Emperor moved forward, and the harlot spoke first. "Well, it''s good to see you remember your place this time, boy. Now, where is the Kalthakian?"Nagos looked up.


    "Answer her, peasant!" snapped Octovus, the voice of a petulant child. Was he really Sahshir''s age? He seemed there, but-


    "He''s over there," said Nagos, motioning to the shadows.


    Octovus looked are. "Where? I do not see him. Are your eyes as dull as your mind?"


    "No, he is right there," said Nagos.


    Had Nagos found where he was hiding? That was impressive.


    "I don''t have-" began Octovus.


    Sahshir emerged at a brisk walk. "I am King Abdul Sahshir of Kalthak."


    "And why do you skulk in the shadows like a thief," said the harlot.


    "It is the custom to prostrate oneself," said Sahshir, keeping his tone polite. Finally, he fell to one knee and set his sword at their feet. "This I cannot do, as it would betray Emperor Baltoth. Thus I chose to watch from the shadows."


    Octovus looked at him hard and raised a finger. As he did, one of the guards whispered something in his ear. "...Very well, then. Since you have chosen to serve the empire in your own way, I shall permit it."


    "Dearest one," said the harlot, "this is disrespectful. You are the Emperor and-"


    "Enough, Mother." said the Emperor. "I''m tired of listening to you wail. And making an issue of this will cause meaningless problems. Would you rather he take his ships and leave?" Sahshir somewhat revised his opinion; Octavus had common sense if little else. He sighed and looked at Serna. "Where is the food? I assume you had the sense to plan a banquet?"


    "We''ve been planning a war," said Nagos in a low whisper. "And your arrival was so swift that we had no time to make such plans."


    "Oh, have you?" asked Octovus. "Without my presence?"


    "Only your majesty''s presence was missing," said Sahshir. "Indeed, we hoped to tell you of Nagos'' strategy in person? Will you meet with us to plan the war?"


    Octovus shifted and seemed to realize he knew nothing of war and would probably make a fool of himself. "Yes, that will have to wait until after my party has rested. General Aridius has my trust and will see that they do not destroy our plans. You, girl, I am hungry. Bring us food."


    "I will arrange for it personally, your Majesty," said Serna.


    She stood and scurried off. Octovus then looked to Nagos, who remained silent. "And you, Nagos, is it? Think yourself lucky to escape without a whipping! Now get to your duties and do not make any more impertinent remarks!"


    "As you wish, your majesty," said Nagos, standing up.


    He and Sahshir left immediately and did not attend the banquet. Apparently, Serna had arranged one, making Nagos look like a fool. As they walked away, Nagos whistled, and Sahshir wondered at him. Here was someone of clear ability and talent. One who moments before had bowed and scraped before two wastes of flesh and soul.


    And he seemed to feel fine about it. "Have you no pride?"


    "Not really, no," admitted Nagos with a shrug. "If it means avoiding getting beaten up, I will do a lot. I don''t see the harm as long as it isn''t hurting anyone."


    "You are the representative of your nation. Nagos," said Sahshir. "To bow and scrape before one like him humiliates your blood."


    "Not really. If we picked a fight with Dinis, we''d lose badly," said Nagos. "I''m not all that worried. If you spend your life being cruel to people, it backfires. Octavus thinks the world revolves around him. And everyone will let him keep thinking that until they knife him."


    "Such words are dangerous, King Nagos," said a voice from the corner. "I recommend you speak them in a lower tone."


    Sahshir looked and saw the guard who had whispered to Octovus before. His helm was off and under one arm. He was a balding man with scars on his face. Sahshir turned to him and remembered. "General Aridius is it?"


    "Marius spoke highly of you, King Sahshir," said Aridius.


    "I was told you organized the retreat from Zigilus," said Sahshir, suspecting it to have been a route.


    "There was little choice in the matter," said Aridius. "The men routed, and it was all I could do to restore some order. It was a miracle any of them survived at all.


    "No one expected a god to appear in the flesh and begin summoning monstrosities from beyond the veil. But, frankly, I think my men should be congratulated that their courage lasted as far as it did.


    "Or so I said to get my promotion."


    "You were promoted?" asked Sahshir, surprised.


    "Of course," said Aridius. "The Empress Mother hates nothing more than a meritocracy. Generals who gain too much glory tend to use it. I was given my position because I succeeded in my mission but did not gain recognition.


    "I am to do all the work here and yield the credit unto the Emperor. Somewhat ironic.


    "Do you know what happened to Marius?" asked Sahshir, curious.


    "Well, I gave him a new assignment and rewarded him and his men," said Aridius. "Now, I''d be very interested to know your plan."


    "Nagos is the one who had it," said Sahshir.


    Nagos shrugged. "Oh, well, I figure that we''ll be more likely to win if we have many more ships."


    "Your powers of deduction astound me," said Aridius with a smile.


    "I have a rare gift," said Nagos. "So, I thought, if we could get more ships, we''d be able to win."


    "I''m having difficulty following," said Aridius. "But go on.""I could visit some of the old pirate hideouts I used to live on and ask them for help," said Nagos. Aridius blinked. "Do they owe you any favors?"


    "No," admitted Nagos. "But you''d be surprised what you can get by asking. Sahshir and I were about to go out and try our luck when the Emperor arrived."


    "And who will command the fleet?" asked Aridius.


    "Why not yourself, the trusted servant of the Emperor?" asked Nagos.


    "I meant that Kalthakian fleet," said Aridius. "As well as your own."


    "Admiral Yin can more than take care of things here," said Nagos.


    "A man named Raj Danal commands mine," said Sahshir. "He is organizing my ships for war and will be in charge of my navy."


    "And you don''t have a plan to remove him?" asked Aridius, surprised.


    "If I die, when I die, my Kingdom will go to my uncle," said Sahshir. "I accept this, and killing me would gain Raj nothing."


    "What makes you think your uncle won''t try to remove you?" asked Aridius.


    "I will be dead within a few years, regardless. So he need not stain his hands," said Sahshir.


    Aridius paused. "...Fair enough. There are certain liberties afforded by imminent death. Well, I suppose I''ll authorize this plan of yours. So long as you give me written authority over Raj. I want to be in command of the fleets."


    "I will give you that for all the good it will do you," said Sahshir, drawing out a scroll he had prepared. "Sign this. Do not expect us to accept suicidal orders, however. Kalthakians have a history of defying authority figures who misuse their power."


    "Far from it," said Aridius. "How many do you number?"


    "At present?" asked Sahshir. "An exact count has not been made of the men. Some will have died on the voyage. However, we have fifty-six ships with many battle-hardened men aboard them. More of them are being drawn up as we speak, mercenaries and adventurers, so it will have changed.


    "How many are on each ship varies, as does the size and qualities."


    "It may be best to gain an official count of such things," said Aridius. "Good organization and logistics are the marks of all great armies.


    "Our forces at present are six hundred warships with more being mobilized. Each one has a crew of three hundred. Both the crew itself and the marines who maintain it. For the most part, our battles are waged by boarding tactics. More can be drawn up; however, much of the fleet is watching Babarassia to the east. They may move against us, even in their weakened state."


    "My fleet is sixty in number," said Nagos. "With a crew of sixty crew and forty marines each. But Admiral Yin and Serna have given us some advantages. It should make them worth a lot more than that.


    "But if we can get a coalition together, we''ll have many more ships than that."


    Aridius nodded. "Then we are in a stronger position than expected.


    "The Emperor will no doubt be pleased. I wonder if this coalition can be arranged. I suppose we should drink to mutual cooperation."


    "I''m not taking orders from a Dinisian General," said a voice. Sahshir looked up and saw Narcissa standing with crossed arms. Oh, right, she was here. "The last time I saw those legions, they were slaughtering everyone in my home."


    Sahshir had no intention of negotiation. "Narcissa, you are my subordinate. Your forces are under my authority. I command that they cooperate with Dinis, and you will do so.


    "Need I remind you, the fate of both our homes hangs in the balance."


    Narcissa held his gaze, then sighed. "...Fine then. I''ll pass the word along."


    "We''ll make the appropriate arrangements," said Sahshir. "Then get to my ship."


    "I have something better, thanks," said Nagos.


    He would say no more than that. It was made clear when they got to the shore.

 Chapter 232 - Nine: On to Adventure

    It was a beach of white sand on the island''s far side, dotted with palm trees and many white stones. They were rounded by years of the tide rushing in them out. There were trees all over this island, and many were beautiful. Sahshir saw several deer in the woods and wondered if they would make good hunting. It was a moot point, of course.


    As they came onto the white beach, Sahshir saw no sign of any ship. Narcissa looked slightly annoyed by this, shifting her axe as she walked.


    "Why are you taking us out here to this beach, Nagos?" asked Narcissa. "I don''t see any ships."


    "Yeah, well, Sheltath doesn''t like coming up near ships," said Nagos. "He''s always afraid he''ll crush them. So now I have to him from the deeps." And standing near the edge, now clad in simple orange and brown sailor gear, he took a deep breath.


    "So, is there some kind of ritual you have to-" began Narcissa.


    Nagos snatched a stone and hurled it, skipping across the waves a dozen times. "Hey, Sheltath! Get out here!


    "Sheltath!"


    "I''ll take that as a no," said Narcissa.


    Up came Sheltath like a great serpent, and his scaly back stretched to sea. He lowered his head onto the sand so his eyes aligned with Nagos'' face. One of his nostrils was the size of their heads. His breathing was a rush of heated air, but Nagos didn''t flinch. "You have called, and I have come forth, Master."


    "Sheltath old buddy. I need a ride out to sea," said Nagos. "We''ve got to get some places quick, and the ships aren''t going to do any good."


    "As you command, you may ride upon my back," said Sheltath. "I shall swim to the ends of the earth if you so choose."


    "Great, we''ll start with the island of Beyofong. That''s closest," said Nagos.


    They quickly scaled onto Sheltath''s back, which was quite difficult to manage in high heels. Sahshir had no trouble, of course, and neither did Nagos. No sooner had they gotten settled, Sheltath surged off. He moved smoothly through the water at a truly immense pace. His great head rising out of the sea sheltered the wind of their passing. Nagos had no trouble keeping his feet, while Sahshir narrowly kept his feet at first. Meanwhile, Narcissa nearly fell off.


    "Beyofong," said Narcissa, propping herself up on an axe. "That''s a strange name."


    "It''s Naminean," said Nagos. "Chaminus and MacShore were named by other people. Some of our people fled there to try and preserve the culture. They aren''t really around anymore, though. With all the invasions, they mostly became one culture or another. "Serna''s family were descendants, actually."


    "I think culture is just a word for people''s habits, though, and I don''t think one habit is better.


    "So I don''t care."


    "This island is very near your own," said Sahshir. "How might they have not been raiding your shores?" Was war all he ever thought about?


    "Well, see, I pay them a fine to not raid my merchant''s vessels," said Nagos. "Easier that way."


    "Couldn''t you just kill them?" asked Narcissa. It seemed the best question to ask.


    "Eh, not really," admitted Nagos with an uncomfortable shrug. "The island is very defensible; a long time ago, it was a colony of Naminus, just like my Kingdom. It took a thousand men weeks to seize it when it had only a fraction of the defenders. It''s a natural harbor, sheltered from the wind. That fort up there is practically untakable.


    "You can shoot out at anyone coming toward the island from it too. This is where the last Emperor of Namina made his stand."


    "What are you talking about? The Emperors of Namina ceased to exist with their island," said Sahshir.


    "How many written records do you have of this?" asked Nagos.


    "In Kalthak, we pass down our history orally," said Sahshir. "Naminus fled to our lands after their decadence led to their destruction. There they corrupted our people into the same sin."


    "Right, that makes sense," said Nagos. "Well, the records I have to tell a different story. They say that Naminus conquered Kalthak and more or less ruled the place. When Namina was destroyed by the waves, the Empire survived. Then they settled the refugees in the islands of power.


    "Of course, the rampant use of sorcery and demon-summoning got out of control. This was right about when Baltoth was staging his war on Valranor."


    "I know," said Sahshir.


    "I don''t; this is all new to me," said Narcissa. Her education had mostly focused on demonology, which had been, thus far, useless.


    "Well, a man named Roo Chadar saw the whole thing coming," said Nagos. "He led many people to the islands of power to resettle there. As a result, they took in many of the refugees after the Fall.


    "Eventually, Roo Chadar established a dynasty based in Chaminus. But it was always a shadow of the original Namina. Some of our records say that ancient Namina was a fragment of a much larger empire.


    "There are other worlds with places called Namina. It''s more a culture than a nation. And my culture is very different from theirs."


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    "How did you become a vassal of Dinis?" asked Sahshir.


    "I actually know this part," said Narcissa. "It was taught by my teacher, Illaryus. Dinis was mostly known as a barbarian homeland like Kalthak for years and years." Narcissa was pleased to know something Sahshir did not.


    "Ahem," said Sahshir flatly.


    "No offense meant," said Narcissa. "I just, well, literacy isn''t exactly common."


    "Some taken," replied Sahshir.


    "Anyway, Dinis didn''t exist then," said Narcissa. "Just feuding city-states. But then Baltoth seduced a serpent spirit, and it bore the Goddess Safara. Lady of Love and Hunger. Or it might have been a regular serpent.


    "Stories vary."


    "How are those connected, anyway?" muttered Nagos. "I''ve never seen the appeal."


    "Does it matter?" asked Narcissa. "The point is, Safara grew up and was incredibly charming and charismatic. She could get just about anyone to do anything. Eventually, she started establishing an empire where Dinis is today. Any time someone invaded, she simply threw open the gates and seduced the leadership. Within a month or so, she took control of the new regime.


    "She actually established Dinis in full just through this. The Naminean Kings chose to submit before she stole their free will. Today, it is taught as a textbook example of classic succubi tactics. Or at least it was."


    "And then she crossed Baltoth, and all her powers were for naught," said Sahshir. Which was what he was going to say all along. It was what he always said.


    "Ah, there''s the island now," said Nagos.


    "Already?" asked Sahshir, looking out.


    Sure enough, Beyofong was rising out of the sea. It was more like several mountains coming from the ocean than an island. The entire island was surrounded by sheer cliffs. There was only one area where one could get onto the rocky surface. A fortress stood near the peak of one mountain. It had high walls, and around it was a town of stone, and on the wall were patrolling men with bows and arrows.


    There were several other towns visible, despite the sparse vegetation. The port itself was guarded heavily.


    "What do they eat here?" asked Narcissa.


    "This is a pirate town," said Nagos. "They buy and sell and raid for everything they get. So actually, I supply a large part of the food. It''s my best source of income."


    The fortress was not like the architecture of the Namineans. On the contrary, it was blockier and less elegant. "Who were the besiegers that took this place?" asked Sahshir.


    "Oh, they were Sornians," said Nagos. "Well, actually, they were Harlenorians at the time. Or maybe Antionians."


    "What do you mean by that?" asked Narcissa.


    "Well, Sorn used to be a colony of a Kingdom called Antion," said Nagos. "And Antion used to be part of a Kingdom called Harlenor, or Harlenor United as they call it these days. It was founded by Anoa the Bright.


    "Don''t you know this?"


    "I was trained as an entertainer and then a warrior. Unfortunately, history isn''t my strong suit," admitted Narcissa.


    "Well, there are three major Harlenorian Kingdoms," said Nagos. "Haldren, Escor, and Antion. But there are also a bunch of secondary kingdoms that sprouted off them. Sorn is the strongest of these and throws off the Harlenorians.


    "Well, Estal is pretty important, too, but, they are mostly used for raiding."


    "Calisha liberated them," said Sahshir.


    "No, it didn''t," said Nagos. "Calisha invaded the place and took it over so they could set up a second front. But Erik the Voyager led an army through the Road of Ancient Stone in the Ghost Mountains and took it back. He didn''t have the manpower to hold Sorn, though, with the war going badly.


    "So he put a notable merchant, Suvvest, in charge.


    "Suvvest played both sides of the war and managed to remain neutral. Antion didn''t have to worry about a second front. And Calisha didn''t have to worry about raids for a little while. It became a buffer state."


    "I don''t even know what half of those words mean, Nagos," said Narcissa as they drew near the shore.


    "Erik the Voyager is a famed explorer-" began Nagos.


    "I know who Erik the Voyager is; everyone knows him," said Narcissa. "I meant the Road of Ancient Stone, the Ghost Mountains, and Suvvest."


    "Oh, okay," said Nagos. "Well, the Road of Ancient Stone is an underground dimension below the ground. It reaches all over but is stronger in the north. The Ghost Mountains divide Sorn from Antion except for a narrow pass.


    "That''s why nobody has ever taken Sorn back. They have a chokepoint. The only other way in would require navigating around the Middle Mountains. You''d need to be on the other side of the world.


    "Or on a boat. Most people who invade Sorn do it by sea."


    Sheltath slowed as he neared the ships, and the guards were calling out ahead. Apparently, they had been noticed. "What is our plan once we get here?" Inquired Sahshir.


    "Well, I''ll introduce you to the Pirate King, Asrif, and we''ll talk to him," said Nagos.


    "Is he Harlenorian?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, sort of. Not really," said Nagos. "I mean, he is descended from Harlenorian stock, and they believe in the heritage. But it''s a distant one.


    "If we can get him to help, we''ll see the other power here, King Alcaides."


    "And how are we going to convince him to help?" asked Narcissa.


    "Well, I figure we can just tell him that Sorn is a problem, and he''ll be able to make money robbing the place," said Nagos. "I pay him money to not attack my ships. Then, if Sorn takes over, they''ll try to hunt him down."


    "Doesn''t Dinis try to hunt him down?" asked Sahshir.


    "Sure, but they''re not good at it," said Narcissa. "The Legions of Dinis are unstoppable. You could send a god after them, and they''d hold their ground. But they aren''t as good on the sea."


    Nagos nodded. "I heard that Namina used to have all kinds of great ships. I wish I could have seen them."


    "Wish in vain," said Sahshir as Sheltath clambered onto the shore.


    A group of armed men clad in leather with small shields came forward. But their spears were not pointed at them, but up. They looked like they were receiving them. Either they had been expected, or this was a common event.


    A swarthy man with one eye came forward. "Nagos, why are you here now? We''ve heard some rumors."


    "Hey Timia, been a while," said Nagos, stepping forward. "So, you ever get that promotion you were looking for?"


    "No, my ship was destroyed by that bastard Alcaides, and my captain went down with it," said Timia. "I had to swim to shore and start over. I''m working my way back up now, no one wants to keep an experienced warrior as a common sailor, but it''s been hard.


    "What are you doing here?"


    "Oh, I''ve gone to try and recruit you guys for a war," said Nagos.


    "Really?" asked Timia. "Nagos, you do realize we don''t fight wars. Of course, we raid and plunder, privateer if we must, but we don''t fight the wars of nations."


    "I know, but I''m hoping I can talk with Asrif and work something out," replied Nagos.


    "He''ll see you, but I doubt you''ll change any minds," said Timia.


    "Trust me," said Nagos.


    Timia sighed. "Do whatever you want. The castle is still in the same place. Who are your companions?"


    "King Abdul Sahshir of Kalthak and his vassal," said Nagos, voice a preening parody.


    Timia eyed him. "And you''ve come here by yourself?"


    "I fear no betrayal from you, pirate. Gods are my prey," replied Sahshir.


    Timia smirked. "Well, as boasts go, it''s passable. Go on ahead."


    Soon they were led through the harbor and saw merchants selling their wares or bartering. This island was used as a stopping point for vessels. Likely a good place to harbor as well. That was a valuable thing with all the feuding lords in the Islands of Power.


    "Are you sure about being so casual about all this?" asked Narcissa. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I address people like people," said Nagos. "No point in letting titles get in the way of talking."


    Narcissa had to admit she liked Nagos.

 Chapter 233 - Ten: King Asrif

    The journey up the mountain was challenging, to say the least, with high slopes and loose stones even on the path. They would see mountain villages on small plateaus here and there, each well-defended by walls. They were mostly low, though, and less well-guarded than some that Sahshir had seen.


    There were also a large number of fields planted in the soil of the mountain. It seemed quite rich in some places, and people were tending it. Yet there were also signs of brothels, forges, and other things. Obviously, King Asrif had either built or claimed a formidable island. One of many that dotted the Islands of Power.


    Sorn would have difficulty taking such a place.


    "That''s the usual Harlenorian style," said Nagos. "Everything has to have a wall around it. You''re only considered an authentic village once you have one.


    "That and until everyone is trained in using a spear."


    "It is a wise policy," said Sahshir. "The enemy of Baltoth is not without virtues."


    "So everyone knows how to fight," said Narcissa.


    "If you want to be part of society, you must be willing to serve in the wars," said Nagos. "Though Antion has been moving away from that. In Chaminus, we prefer to focus on being artists and industry.


    "Our military is small, but they train professionally and get a wage. Plus, my Father got them a lot of good armor. So we''ll probably be able to handle things."


    "Replacing them will be difficult," noted Sahshir.


    "If I have to replace a large part of my army, something has gone seriously wrong," said Nagos. "Those guys all have families. So I don''t want them to die if I can help it.


    "Actually, I don''t even want my enemies to die; they have families too. I''d take it if we could figure out this without a war."


    "You could surrender and let them enslave you," noted Narcissa, shifting her bare shoulders. Cowardice and slavery was a way to avoid conflict.


    But not an honorable way.


    "Let''s talk about that if we lose," laughed Nagos.


    Sahshir was used to such rocky ground, and Narcissa had some experience. But the road was rocky, and their guards moved at a rapid pace that they could not match. Nagos seemed to have the worst of it but pretended otherwise well.


    At last, they were ushered through the gates into the walls of the slanted roofed structure. Now that he was nearer, Sahshir recognized the designs. He''d seen paintings of these grey stone-style of buildings within the palace. Most of them had been on fire, but he saw how formidable they were here. Far stronger than the more recent construction of the walls outside.


    As they were led into the keep, Sahshir calculated how best to attack such a fortification. The ground was too rocky to dig through. Launching a direct assault would be uphill and exposed to slings and arrows. Siege equipment would require more work to set up.


    Whoever took this fortress would be a formidable warrior indeed. Even with overwhelming force, there was nowhere closer to land than the shore.


    How had a pirate gotten it?


    "Has this place ever been attacked?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, it was sieged once or twice," said Nagos. "And raided more than that. And there''s always a few scuffles here and there in pirate towns. The Babarassians has always been a problem to the east. And before King Asrif took up residence, this island was ruled by Princess Nyx and her entourage. She was an Amazon who built her own Kingdom and was even officially recognized by Antion.


    "But she was betrayed and defeated by Raynald De Chevlon, and Lord Dunmoore took the island. It was then sold off to Asrif, who made his colony. After that, Calisha surrounded the place and laid siege for six years on behalf of Princess Nyx. But Asrif held out until Argath Marn and Tanith Telus raids forced them to withdraw.


    "Though it was more several sieges."


    "I remember my mentor, Illaryus, taught me about Nyx," said Narcissa. "Zigildrazia was very unhappy about that. So how did Raynald end up working for her anyway?"


    "Well, that was before I could talk," said Nagos. "Possibly before I was born.


    "From what I hear, Raynald helped Nyx out of a tough spot when he was younger than us. He was a social outcast, and nobody thought he was going anywhere. A lot of his family mocked him.


    "She took his help, realized he was politically useless, and distanced herself from him. He took it personally because he spent years getting into her inner circle. All so he could open the gates of that castle and stab her in the back. Tanith Telus is his student, you know.


    "That guy scares me, and I''ve never even met him. He lives for revenge. Did you know he killed sixteen people just to settle grudges in two hours? He was related to some of them, and he challenged them to duels.


    "Nearly wiped out the nobility of Blackfear overnight."


    "Sounds like you, Sahshir," said Narcissa.


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    "It sounds like one I could have been," said Sahshir. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "His other student seemed like a pretty good person, though," said Nagos. "William Gabriel. I met him on a voyage to Blackfear a little while ago.


    "He spends a lot of time healing people and wants to help them. Though he''s got a vengeful streak a mile wide. I guess he picked that up from Raynald. I think you''d like him, Narcissa."


    "Of course, he has a vengeful streak," said Narcissa. "Harlenorians live for revenge.


    "They''ve been waging the same crusade for millennia."


    "Not really," said Nagos. "All those wars have their own reasons for being fought. But Anoa IX makes for a good story, so people tend to assume it''s about him.


    "The truth it, wars happen for many reasons, and you can''t really avoid them all the time.


    "You just have to stop the ones you can and fight the ones you have to."


    "How many wars have you been in?" asked Sahshir.


    "This will be the first," said Nagos. "But I spent enough time on pirate ships to know a thing or two. So I''m hoping I don''t botch it."


    "I recommend prayer," said Sahshir. "It helps one focus."


    "I might try that," said Nagos.


    "How did Asrif get control of this island?" asked Narcissa.


    "We voted him in," said a pirate. "Asrif was made King by vote after leading us to riches and glory."


    They went through double doors and into a torchlit throne room. At the far end was a throne, and upon it sat a large man. He held a massive claymore of Harlenorian make between his hands, almost as long as he was tall. His face was tan, he had a tawny brown beard and hair and a haggard face, and his fingers were covered in scars.


    Beside him was a priestess of Safara. Sahshir could tell by her brilliant red hair and tan skin. They had a remarkable resemblance to her goddess, strangely enough. As though they were physically becoming her.


    Nagos paid her no heed as she walked through. "Asrif! It''s been years!"


    "Nagos?" asked Asrif. "What in the blazes are you doing here? I thought you''d returned home."


    "Well, I have a Sornian Fleet coming after me at the moment," said Nagos. "Or possibly the island near me. They hope to take over the last remnant of the Dinis Empire at sea."


    "Well, why are you coming to me?" asked Asrif, "Unless you plan on paying us, I don''t think we have any business."


    "Well, I would," said Nagos. "Thing is, the Emperor is sort of an idiot."


    "What''s your point?" asked Asrif.


    "Well, I think he''ll botch the defense," said Nagos. "And if I''m going to have my first defense botched, I want some help. So I figured I''d ask you to gather your fleets and unite your banner with King Alcaides''s. From there, you can help me destroy Sorn''s power in the Islands of Power."


    "I suppose you always did have a sense of humor, Nagos." laughed Asrif.


    Nagos smiled. "I wasn''t joking. I''d much rather pay you to leave my ships alone, as would Dinis. It''s easier that way. But Sorn is of the same descent as you; they''re Harlenorians in their blood.


    "If Sorn destroys Dinis'' hold here, their next order of business will be hunting you down so they don''t interfere."


    "And if we destroy Sorn, the reverse will be true," noted Asrif.


    "Maybe, but Dinis is no good at naval warfare," said Nagos. "And Octavus is an idiot. Imagine how high your reputation will soar if you defeat the Sorn? What if, right afterward, crush the fleets of Dinis."


    "Well, that does sound like a fun afternoon," said Asrif. "But why should I unite with Alcaides? I hate the man, and he hates me far more for killing his brother."


    "Because you won''t be able to defeat Dinis or Sorn by yourself," said Nagos. "You and Alcaides are the great neutral powers of this region. So if you can unite for an afternoon, you could probably beat up just about anyone.


    "As long as you''re hating each other, you won''t achieve anything." This Sahshir privately doubted. Asrif seemed a mighty King in his own right, and if Alcaides was his equal, they would be a great asset. But there were many such Kings in the Islands of power, and they rose and fell like the tide.


    There were others with such power.


    Just not others that Nagos knew personally.


    "The boy is correct, King Asrif." said the priestess of Safara, stepping forward in what was almost a slither.


    Asrif looked up. "Sorpenta, you''ve spoken. This is unusual."


    "Hey, Sorpenta, I haven''t seen you for a while!" said Nagos. "How is the church going? Have you convinced people to start feeding themselves to the serpents of the east yet?"


    "We have attracted followers," said Sorpenta. "Few of such devotion as that, however."


    "Why do you support this plan, Sorpenta?" asked Asrif.


    "My lady, Safara, desires all creatures to be united as one in her," said Sorpenta. "I have read the signs, and she has spoken to me. If you unite with King Alcaides, you will win a great victory on the sea and a greater one by land.


    "In so doing, you will become part of a greater power. And that power shall spread the love of Safara across all these islands."


    "Very pleasant, but I do not want to be part of anything, however great," said Asrif. "I am King of my own domain. I am a descendant of Harlenor, but I am not of Harlenor."


    "We are all mice in a world of serpents, Asrif," said Sorpenta. "We may escape them for a time, but if we are not devoured in life, we shall be consumed in death. Therefore, in time, we all must die and be reborn anew.


    "All that is ours to choose is which serpent we are devoured by.


    "You may choose the serpent of the past and be hunted down little by little. Or you may choose a greater serpent that surpasses all. Love itself shall be spread worldwide, bringing all into the fold should you aid them. And you shall be among those who bring forth its greatness, held in high renown and honor. And held close to the bosom of Safara in the end."


    "Wonderful," scoffed Asrif. "Would anyone like to make an argument that gives a clear-cut answer?"


    "All men die, Asrif," said Sahshir. "And those who die later see their achievements surpassed. Or they watch the generations fall into complacency. If you go into battle now and win great victories, you will know glory eternal in history. If you remain here and do as you have been doing, you will be merely a footnote."


    Asrif looked at Sahshir and met his gaze. "The King of Eastern Kalthak, who saw Typhos rise?"


    "The same," said Sahshir.


    Asrif laughed. "Well, that makes some semblance of sense. But, Sorpenthra, get out of here. Your presence galls me."


    Sorpenta bowed low and departed. Nagos blinked, then looked to Asrif. "Why do you tolerate her if you dislike her so much?"


    "It was part of the deal," said Sahshir. "She wanted Nagos to go and become King, and I wasn''t willing to do it. So she offered to have the Cult of Safara formally recognize my dominion and set up shrines here. Of course, doing so means Dinis will have difficulty justifying an invasion. Though it also means she has a jumping-off point to convert people.


    "I don''t like her or her cult. But the deal has worked out splendidly for both of us, so I''ll not break it.


    "I''ll consider things, Nagos.


    "Would you care for some hospitality in the meantime?"


    "Sure, we''ll spend the night, and then we''ll set out to find King Alcaides next," said Sahshir."I recommend you talk with Sorpenthra about that," said Asrif. "She sends missionaries to various islands. At first, they came back in pieces. But now, there is a standing practice not to attack her ships.


    "What are your plans for this anyway?"


    "Well, for now, I just want to get everyone together on this," said Nagos. "The way I see it, the battle will probably be at Mcshore. So if we can just get there in time for the fight, we''ll be fine."


    "Don''t think I''ve committed to anything, Nagos." said Asrif, "I like you, but I''m not convinced we''re destined for victory."


    "Don''t worry. Things''ll all work out no matter what we do," said Nagos with a shrug and a big smile.


    As they were led to their rooms, Narcissa and Sahshir waited until they were safely within. Then Narcissa looked to Nagos. "Are you sure he will help us?"


    "Sure?" asked Nagos. "No. But I don''t like to make assumptions about people. I''m sure he''ll do what he thinks is best. People usually do that.


    "So, Narcissa, how many battles have you been in?"


    "Just one," admitted Narcissa.


    "I believe the siege of Zigilus should be several battles," said Sahshir.


    "No, there were a bunch of engagements. But they were all the same battle," said Narcissa.


    "Eh, there really isn''t much of a difference," said Nagos. "Different people think different words mean different things. It doesn''t really matter, though."


    "How are you so casual about all this?" asked Narcissa. "You know he could have us all killed? We should have come here with our fleet in case of treachery."


    "Sure, that would make sure we were safe, but it''d make convincing him harder," said Nagos.


    "What do you mean?" asked Narcissa.


    "If I came here with your ships, I''d just be regarded as a puppet," said Nagos. "And if I came here with my ships, he''d think I was strong-arming him, or I''d gotten arrogant.


    Coming here on a standard ship means he just regards me as Nagos.


    "I like talking to people as a person, not a King."


    "You are the King. That is your identity," said Sahshir.


    "My identity is Nagos," said Nagos. "The word King " is something people added to the front for convenience.


    "I just hope that Serna is doing alright."


    "I expect she is doing well," said Sahshir. "To be blunt, she seems more capable of navigating around Emperor''s than yourself."


    "I know," said Nagos. "But as long as we''re out here, I can''t do anything if she needs help."


    "We''ve only been gone a day," said Narcissa. "I''m certain the Emperor will have plenty of responsibilities at that time."


    "He didn''t seem the kind to seek responsibilities out," noted Nagos.


    "Emperor''s have responsibilities whether they want them or not," said Sahshir.


    "There isn''t any point in worrying about it," said Nagos, lying on his bedroll. "What happens will happen. I''ll deal with it when we get back. Who knows, maybe we''ll all become friends in the end."


    "Don''t count on it," said Sahshir.


    Privately, however, Sahshir wondered if the war was as hopeless as he''d thought.

 Chapter 234 - Eleven: The Hurricane of Will

    A few hours later, the three of them were led through the narrow halls to a door with banners on either side. The banners each depicted a black shark on a violet background. The light sources here came from spheres that channeled energies of the Sun Spirit. Though, how Asrif had gotten so many of them was a mystery to Sahshir.


    "Here is the war room." said the guard. "Don''t raise your voice; it tends to echo.


    The door was opened, and they entered a room with a high ceiling. It was lit by a window above that let light in through a grating. It must have gotten wet when it rained, and Sahshir saw a cistern below it. Asrif was standing on the far side of a large, circular table. With him were his officers, sitting in silence. Before him, on the table, was a sword in a sheathe of red leather.


    "So you''re here then, Nagos," said Asrif. "We''ve discussed the matter; I''ll agree to your plan. No sense in letting the Sorn get too strong. But I want to have an understanding that I get the first pick of all the loot."


    "That may be kind of difficult to promise," said Nagos. "See, I have to get Alcaides on board too. And he''ll want the first pick of the loot as well. And if I tell him that you''re getting the first pick of the loot-"


    "I don''t see that we even need Alcaides," said Asrif.


    "Do you really want to go to war and leave yourself open to him?" asked Nagos. "He might side with Sorn."


    "As appealing as it sounds, killing him in battle," said Asrif, "it would be bad for business. Alright, so what can you offer me?"


    "Well, I''m sure we can arrange for the Emperor to compensate you," said Nagos. "I mean, with all the gilded armor his men wear, I''m sure you can arrange a proper reward."


    "And if he doesn''t reward us?" asked Asrif, voice hard.


    Nagos looked nervous. "Well, then, I guess I could use the treasury to compensate you. I mean, it probably won''t be enough on its own, but with the loot from any Sorn ships we seize, it could be-"


    "Nevermind, forget it," said Asrif.


    Nagos blinked. "You don''t want payment?"


    "I want payment from the Emperor," said Asrif. "You''re doing this on his orders, so I''ll iron things out with his men once we talk. There will plunder enough from the war, and checking Sorn is in all our interest.


    "Now, take this." He drew up the sheathed sword and tossed it to Nagos, who narrowly dropped it. "Get your dragon ready for departure. Now leave us; I will speak with King Sahshir."


    Nagos nodded. Quickly he departed. Sahshir nodded to Narcissa, who also left. Finally, Asrif looked at him. "I''ve heard about you, King Sahshir. They say you dueled Garacel himself in single combat and nearly won."


    "I fought him twice," said Sahshir. "And I won the first."


    Asrif looked at him hard. "Why are you here? You can''t be fond of Dinis as a nation. They are Calisha''s eastern rivals."


    Sahshir looked at one gloved hand. Two fingers were gone, lost in Zigilus. "Dinis is failing. Sorn is not. And the enemy of my enemy is my friend."


    "Not in my experience," said Asrif. "That boy, Nagos, is far too good-natured for his own good. His prospering is one of the few things that maintain my faith in the universe. If he dies, I will seek someone to blame."


    Sahshir nodded. "I assure you, Nagos will face no harm from me."


    "Good," said Asrif. "Now, you''d better meet him before he barges back in here."


    Sahshir nodded respectfully. Then he turned and returned, finding Narcissa helping Nagos gird his sword. Nagos glanced up. "So what was all that about?"


    "The King wished to discuss something with me," said Sahshir. "I won''t speak of it here."


    "Oh," said Nagos. "Well, anyway, that''s one island out of the way. And if I know Asrif, he''ll want to get all his friends involved. Now we just need to get Alcaides in on it as well."


    "And how are you going to do that?" asked Narcissa.


    "I have no idea," admitted Nagos. "Let''s head for the harbor."


    The trip down was actually worse than the trip up. There was something inherently unpleasant about scaling down a slope. When climbing up, if you fell, you''d fall onto the rock and slide a bit. On the other hand, if one fell here, they''d just keep falling.


    It made it nerve-wracking, even on the road.


    "How do you always wear a sword like this?" asked Nagos. "This thing is heavy."


    "I have been training to use and wear weapons since I was seven," said Sahshir. "Have you never fought?"


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    "No," said Nagos, "Asrif always had me do things other than fighting when I was on his ship. Generally, when I ran into a swordmaster, my job was to duck for cover and let someone else fight.


    "Never had to fight anyone, just watch and help with things."


    They came to the pier after a long period. Here they found Sheltath resting his head on the pier. Nagos walked forward. "Hey, Sheltath! Sheltath! Wake up, lazybones!" And he tapped the dragon on the head.


    "You know that his armor is thick enough to block ballista bolts, don''t you?" asked Sahshir. "A few stones aren''t going to do anything."


    "Shows what you know," said Nagos. "Sheltath is a special kind of gold dragon that lives in the ocean. He is descended from one of the Sons of the Rebirther who went to the oceans to lay his eggs instead of into Calisha. Throughout a few generations, they were able to live completely underwater."


    "I am," said Sheltath, opening his eyes. "And lighter than my armor is, it is not so thin that mere bolts can break it." Then he drew back and bared his back. They quickly gathered onto it, and Sheltath swam out into the sea. As he moved, he sent a saltwater splash around him, even as he glanced back. One eye peered at Nagos. "Where to now?"


    "To the island of King Alcaides, the Satyr!" said Nagos.


    Sahshir flinched at that despite himself. "Satyrs? Alcaides is a satyr?"


    Nagos glanced up. "Yeah, what''s wrong with that?"


    "Satyrs are wild and vicious brutes who eat the flesh of sentients and bathe in blood," said Sahshir. "Are we certain we want them on our side?"


    "Would you rather they be on Sorn''s side?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes," said Sahshir flatly, remembering stories of the way they treated captives. "They eat those they capture on the battlefield."


    "I read that satyrs were loyal servants of Zigildrazia in many worlds," said Narcissa.


    "Was that supposed to help your argument?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Narcissa. "Although, maybe it doesn''t."


    How pleasing that she had some capacity to question the wicked god that had enslaved the will of her people.


    "Then it is decided," said Nagos.


    Sahshir would have grumbled. But Nagos seemed to have a remarkable ability to make these things work. So he held his tongue.


    They shot through the water for half a day, and the constant wind was a relief from the beating sun. Soon an island came within sight. Several lights, actually, and as they drew near, Sahshir saw a storm.


    "There is a storm waiting for us," said Sheltath.


    "What storm?" asked Narcissa. "How do you know?"


    "The clouds, obviously," said Nagos. "And with this wind, we''ll be caught in it. Sheltath, are there any islands or shelters you can see?"


    "Why isn''t the storm moving?" asked Sahshir, eyeing the black clouds in the distance. "They ought to be coming toward us."


    "There are ships beneath that storm," said Sheltath.


    "Ships?" asked Nagos as they drew near. "What kind of ship would ride such a storm?"


    Sahshir closed his eye and drew his sword. Sensing outward, he felt a presence. It was cold and powerful. The sorcerer who had summoned the winds before. "One with a man of power upon it," said Sahshir, eyes opening. There, he beheld a ship within the waters. "Bring us closer; we''ll have the chance to win this war yet."


    "Why?" asked Nagos.


    "So I can kill those on board," said Sahshir, noting only one vessel. "Garrick is there, and he''s already sunk several of my ships."


    "Sheltath, take us toward the island," said Nagos.


    "Why?" asked Narcissa.


    "Do you really want to start a fight with an entire ship and a guy who commands the winds at sea?" asked Nagos.


    On they went, surging toward the island. It was a small place, and the winds were howling around them. As Sheltath halted in the shallows. Sahshir leaped off and plunged into the cold water while striding ashore. With him were Nagos and Narcissa, Nagos drew his sword. Reaching into his pocket, Nagos drew out a strange tube and extended it. From there, he put it to his eye.


    "What is that?" asked Sahshir, glancing at the barren island and seeing some rocks. They had barnacles growing on them, and there were many shells on the beaches.


    "A spyglass," said Nagos. "Look through this."


    Sahshir came and took it, before gazing through. Through it, he saw the ship. On the top deck was a smaller, gray-skinned elf with black hair. In his hands was a massive sword as tall as he was. The winds were howling around it and then spreading out to create clouds around them.


    "Those clouds aren''t breaking," said Nagos, eyes narrowing. "There is no rain coming from there. And other clouds are coming toward us now.


    "What is going on here?"


    "My guess is that Garrick is using the winds to create a powerful storm," said Sahshir. "Maybe to destroy our ships while they are in the harbor. If he could send it into the harbor, it could wreck our fleets before the war begins." S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "How could he summon so many winds?" asked Narcissa.


    "I don''t know," said Sahshir. "Something must be done."


    "Don''t worry. Chaminus has enchantments that prevent that kind of storm from flowing over it," said Nagos. "We didn''t want a repeat of Namina.


    "It keeps the winds in order."


    "Nagos, we''re fighting at Macshore." said Narcissa, "Our fleets could be wiped out en route. And this storm could break even the strongest wards."


    "Order," said Sahshir, kneeling and planting his sword in the sand. "One moment."


    "What are you doing?" asked Nagos.


    "I''m attempting to restore the natural order to those clouds to make them rain. It isn''t nearly as easy as you would think," said Sahshir. Then he closed his eyes and began to focus, sending forth his will into the storm. He found the spirits of the wind howling and sent forth order.


    His will was forced against theirs, and he had trouble moving forward. Power crushed against his mind, and he shuddered, focusing his energy. Driving down the spirits, he felt a mental blow to his mind. Pushing through, he struck at the center of the storm. The nexus of power at the center broke and shuddered.


    For a moment, there was an ungodly howling of rage.


    Then he opened his eyes, and the storm was parting. The sky lightened at an unnatural pace as the chaos was driven out. Nature resumed its ordinary course. Sahshir rose and sheathed his sword. As he did, he fell to one knee, feeling very tired. "That should delay things for a time. But we should go. Our enemy will come after us, so..."


    "They already are," said Nagos. "Sheltath, let''s go!"


    Leaping onto the serpent, they quickly shot off. Yet the ship closed on them as winds fought to keep them back. Soon men with bows were launching arrows at them, some landing in the water. One of them bounced off Narcissa''s helm as Sahshir caught another.


    "They''re gaining on us," said Nagos, ducking low under an arrow. It shattered on Sheltath''s scales behind him.


    "Sheltath," said Sahshir, "turn around and sink the damned ship."


    "I cannot," said Sheltath. "I am forbidden to slay, save in defense of Chaminus.


    The ship was drawing ever nearer. Nagos looked back. "Sheltath, prepare to dive and swim out under the enemy ship." He drew a rope and looped it around the dragon''s neck before tying it tightly. From there, he tied the rope around himself, then threw it to Sahshir and Narcissa. "Tie yourselves up quickly."


    He ducked under an arrow that sparked off the armor. Sahshir sheathed his sword and quickly tied it around himself. He then did the same to Narcissa.


    "Are you tied down?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes!" said Narcissa.


    "I am," said Sahshir. "Now, do it!"


    "Now, Sheltath!" said Nagos. "Take a breath!"


    Sheltath dove as they breathed in. Then they were pulled under the water as Sheltath surged through the water. The pressure was incredible, and Sahshir nearly knocked the wind out of him as he hung on to the rope. Finally, the dragon shot beneath the ship, and Sahshir saw several arrows delving into the depths.


    "Why? Just do it.


    On and on, it went as they shot under the ship, then on and on. Air was running out, Sahshir''s lungs were burning. Glancing back, he saw the rope behind him straining under Narcissa''s armor. Afraid it would break, he snatched her hand to decrease the weight.


    Then Sheltath surged upwards and plunged out of the water. They were in the air for a moment, and Sahshir gasped for air. Then they landed and nearly fell into the water. Another island was before them. They lay on Sheltath''s back for a moment, gasping for air.


    Then Nagos looked up and smiled. "We made it! We made it to Alcaides!"


    "No, we made it to the island," said Narcissa.


    "The island is also called Alcaides," said Nagos. "He renamed it after himself once he conquered it from Sorn."


    The island was different from the one they''ve been before. It was lower and covered in many trees. Strange, colorful birds could be seen flying above the trees. Soon they entered the harbor, and Sahshir stepped onto the beach, feeling wet and miserable.


    "What manner of narcissist names an island after himself?" said Sahshir.


    "I don''t know," said Narcissa, planting her axe and emptying her helmet of water. "Maybe he''s really just a misunderstood guy who-"


    A huge satyr bounded out of the trees wielding a giant halberd, leaping dramatically onto a rock. Around him came hundreds of other satyrs with bows and spears. "Who dares to trespass upon the domain of King Alcaides the Immortal and Undying! Speak quickly, or you shall be cast forever into fire and death as all who oppose Alcaides are!" And he summoned a huge sphere of flame into one hand and hurled it to set fire to some trees.


    "...Well, he might be joking," said Narcissa.


    Sahshir wondered if they might go back to fight the Sornian vessel.

 Chapter 235 - Twelve: Choices

    Of course, backing down was neither an option nor desirable. Nagos was stepping behind him on reflex, so Sahshir stepped forward. Narcissa fell in behind him, hoisting her axe as they neared the satyrs. The creatures stood ready for a moment, prepared for a spring.


    "King Alcaides, I am Abdul Sahshir of Kalthak. I come to you with an offer for great danger and great glory."


    "Glory and danger are well," said Alcaides. "But King Alcaides needs neither from one who wears a mask."


    "This cloth is my face," said Sahshir. "What lies beneath is merely rot."


    "You intrigue Alcaides." said the colossal satyr, eyeing him, "What manner of King walks with only two servants?"


    "These are not servants but two rulers in our own right," replied Sahshir. "Nagos, Heir of Namina of Old, stands to my right."


    "I think we''ve already met," said Nagos, regaining his composure.


    "Yes, I remember you washed up on Alcaides'' island some time ago," said Alcaides. "What of the other?"


    "Narcissa, the ruler of Zigildrazia''s remaining people," said Narcissa. "I have heard many tales of your power and valor, and every one of them seems true, King Alcaides."


    "Alcaides knew of their nature before you introduced them." scoffed Alcaides. "He merely feigned interest to test your truthfulness. You might be worth a ransom."


    "Perhaps," said Sahshir. "But it would cost you great bloodshed to gain it. We are not defenseless; our people shall never pay ransom to deliver us from a foreign adversary."


    "So you say," said Alcaides. "Why do you come before King Alcaides? What is your mission?"


    "We seek to create a great alliance of all the Pirate Kings," said Sahshir. "To unite them for a single purpose; To defeat Sorn and create a new order."


    "And so you come to Alcaides, as was long foreseen," said Alcaides thoughtfully. "Yes, I knew a day such as this would come. But why should I unite with you when I need no army to drive my enemy before me alone."


    "Can you?" asked Sahshir in turn.


    "DARE YOU QUESTION KING ALCAIDES?!" roared the satyr, his voice echoing through the trees. The wind howled around them as the eaves of the trees moaned.


    "Hang on, we weren''t questioning you, just asking a hypothetical," said Nagos quickly.


    "Hypothetical?" asked Alcaides. "What do you mean by this?"


    "Forgive my companion, Sahshir, great Alcaides," said Narcissa, stepping forward. "His affliction has driven him near to madness. We meant only to say that winning by using a vast army is more glorious, for it would demonstrate your hold over the many. All know of your magnificent feats of battle, but not many know of your incomprehensible aura.


    "For all men would die for you if they but knew your true nature."


    "You speak truly, Narcissa," said Alcaides, sounding pleased. "Yet I would have you answer a question. Speak truthfully, for I know the answer already, will King Asrif be among this fleet."


    "He will," said Narcissa.


    "Then, Alcaides cannot sail! Our ships shall only ever meet to enact retribution!" said Alcaides. "Asrif slew Alcaides'' brother, and that blood, in turn, demands blood! More blood than Asrif has!""


    "I''ve heard how he killed your brother," said Narcissa. "That''s why we''re here. You don''t think we would bother you about the fleets of Sorn, do you?


    "We want Asrif to see your glory and the nature of his crime. We want him to comprehend his sin and redeem himself. But first, we need a victory."


    "Victory is the state of Alcaides being," replied Alcaides. "Yet, I do not think you are yet worthy of Alcaides to walk among you. So I will give you a question. Complete it, and all shall be as you say. Fail, and Alcaides shall engineer his will through other vessels."


    "Whatever you want, King Alcaides," said Narcissa.


    Alcaides pointed to the mountain above them. "There is a mine high in that mountain. Deep within it lies a monument. All who come before that monument die slow deaths unless they flee.


    "Now and then, horror spells are sent forth to harm the farmers serving King Alcaides. This was made as punishment by Alcaides for crimes made long ago.


    "But now the debt is paid.


    "You will enter the cave and destroy the monument. In doing so, you shall prove your worth."


    "It shall be as you say, King Alcaides."


    "Then go forth," said Alcaides.


    Then he and his men vanished into the trees as quickly as they had come.


    "What was that?" asked Sahshir.


    "I was taught to flatter people by Zarana," said Narcissa, removing her helm. "I haven''t used it much in a long time. Where is Sheltath?" S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Gone," said Nagos. "I''ll call him up later. That was amazing, Narcissa."


    "Not really," said Sahshir flatly.


    "Well, what would you call amazing?" asked Narcissa.


    "There is nothing impressive about flattery." snapped Sahshir.


    "You clearly haven''t ever tried using it before," said Narcissa. "It''s a skill."


    "Believe what you will," said Sahshir. "Where are all the ships on this island?"


    "The ships?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes, I''ve seen no sign of them since we arrived," said Sahshir.


    "No one knows," admitted Nagos. "I''ve heard rumors that Alcaides has a secret harbor that closes behind the ships that enter it, though. He often hijacks slave ships and recruits the cargo, and no one is allowed to leave his following and live."


    "Well, however, he hides them; it is a mystery we must solve later," said Sahshir. "For now, we have a dark spirit to exorcise."


    "And how are you going to do that, Sahshir?" asked Narcissa.


    "I have no idea," said Sahshir before making for the mountain. "I imagine stabbing it multiple times might help."


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    "You know, we really ought to have more of a plan than that," said Nagos.


    "Make whatever suggestions you desire, Nagos," said Sahshir, entering the trees.


    "Well, I can''t think of anything," admitted Nagos.


    "My point is perfectly made," said Sahshir.


    On they walked into the darkness. The ground on this island was wet, and their feet sank into the ground. They saw massive spiders making huge webs, no doubt under the guidance of Rioletta. Sahshir wondered if the Goddess of Weaving had holdings in this domain.


    Probably not. Rioletta''s worship was from the lands of the Medi to the cursed domain of the Bright Lord Elranor in Gel Carn. Though there were likely a few.


    "Sahshir?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes?" asked Sahshir.


    "What if Alcaides doesn''t join us?" asked Nagos.


    "Then we will have at least destroyed a threat to the people in these lands," said Sahshir.


    "Yeah, it seems like a situation where all benefit," said Narcissa.


    "I suppose if your definition of victory is loose enough, it is," said Nagos.


    "Do you have an alternative?" asked Sahshir.


    "Not really," admitted Nagos.


    As Sahshir had suspected, Nagos had been making all this up as he went. He had been doing a good job of it, though. Nagos knew what had to happen and roughly what steps he had to take. And he had recruited Sahshir and Narcissa to compensate for his shortcomings.


    Nagos was a good King and a skilled adventurer. "Then we go on."


    "I hope Alkela is doing alright," said Narcissa.


    "She is far safer than us," said Sahshir.


    "Well, yes," said Narcissa, "but I left her in charge."


    "With all possible respect," said Sahshir, "how could a mute lead anyone?"


    "She can write," said Narcissa. "Mostly, she just writes out the directives. She''s better at it than I am, anyway. It''s why I was able to be here."


    "I leave your own affairs to organize or destroy as you see fit," said Sahshir.


    Soon they came out of the trees and began scaling up the mountains. These were oddly barren, with not a blade of grass on them. As they went further up, a sort of malaise came over them. Here and there, Sahshir saw bones scattered in the rocks.


    "Wow, climbing these mountains is difficult," said Nagos, though he didn''t seem winded. "Have you done this kind of thing before, Sahshir?"


    "Yes," said Sahshir.


    "I''ve done it in high heels," said Narcissa.


    "I don''t get why anyone would wear high heels in the first place," muttered Nagos. "They''ve got to hurt the feet."


    "It''s for the sake of appearances. And appearances are everything," said Narcissa.


    "Yeah, but they''re only skin deep," said Nagos. "Someone can look really beautiful and be horrible or kind. Outside appearance doesn''t matter."


    "Actually, it tells you a great deal about a person. For example, if someone wears makeup, it means they care about their appearance," said Narcissa. "If someone is meticulously clean, it tells you how they behave each morning.


    "Outside appearances are what we choose to show to the world. And our choices define us." So they scaled higher into the air, near several huge stones.


    Nagos rolled his eyes. "I just throw on whatever I want unless Serna forces me to dress up."


    "And that says a lot about your character, doesn''t it?" asked Narcissa.


    "Not anything I wouldn''t tell someone who asked," said Nagos with a shrug.


    As they went on, Sahshir sensed Garrick Estov around them. He stopped and put a hand to his sword. "Quiet. There is something in the trees.


    "We have walked into an ambush."


    And then they emerged.


    They did not come from the stones but from the ground. Men clad in mail emerged like phantoms from the earth. Swords surrounded them as archers appeared on the rocks and trained their shots. There were dozens of them.


    And then a man came forward, the one with the huge sword. Up close, Sahshir saw he had sea-green eyes. His skin was gray, and his black garments were adorned with the symbol of a coin changing hands. "You are perceptive for one with your affliction. Keep your arrows trained on them, Lauren."


    "Lieutenant Garrick, is it?" asked Sahshir.


    "Indeed I am," said Garrick. "My associates and I merely wish to talk."


    "You tried to kill us," said Nagos.


    "You interfered with my gathering of a storm," said Garrick. "It is not in my nature to act aggressively, but I felt that it warranted reprisal."


    "Fine words from the one who has spent his life in the armies of Sorn." scoffed Sahshir. "Haven''t you the stomach to face an equal opponent?"


    "So I did," said Garrick, not offended. "I have the stomach. But I prefer easy victories. Might I inquire as to what brought you out to this place?"


    "I have no words for you," said Sahshir.


    "We''re here to get an army of pirates to wipe you off the map!" said Nagos.


    Typical, really.


    "I see. An innovative tactic" said Garrick. "Surely, you must be aware of how unreliable pirates can be."


    "Sure, but they''ve got a code," said Nagos. "You break a deal among them and end up hacked into tiny pieces.


    "They don''t like double-crossing."


    "Perhaps not," said Garrick. "I note that you have come here from King Ansif''s domain. Were you successful in gathering his support?"


    "Of course I was," said Nagos.


    What was he doing? Something was calculating in how Nagos was doing this. "Really. So you are negotiating an alliance with various pirate lords. And you''ve done it without any shows of force."


    "I know most of them on a first-name basis. Well, except Alcaides," said Nagos.


    Garrick paused. "...Why don''t you come to work for Sorn."


    "What do you mean?" asked Nagos.


    "Surely, you must realize that Dinis is falling to pieces," said Garrick. "It is doubtful that they will last very long, even if we repulse them."


    "The Empire has been dying of the same disease for thirty years," noted Narcissa.


    "Why do you care?" asked Nagos flatly. "You''re a Knight of the Coin."


    "Of course I am," said Garrick. "I am absolutely loyal to the interests of the man paying me now. Those interests, at present, are solidifying control over the Islands of Power. An allied system of islands Sorn can work with as a partner could be quite valuable."


    "You do realize that the Emperor of Dinis is on my island?" asked Nagos. "If I betrayed him, he''d kill everyone."


    "Then all you need do is ensure that your treachery is engineered to destroy him," noted Garrick. Then he looked to Sahshir. "Abdul Sahshir, is it? I have heard some rumors about your battles. You must realize that Dinis is your primary threat.


    "Sorn has no interest in Kalthak. If we cooperate, we could take Dinis apart, distributing areas of land as we see fit. There is great profit to be made for all involved."


    "Do not do this, Nagos," said Sahshir, not dignifying him with even a look. "He is your liege lord, whatever his vices."


    "I say we negotiate on the subject," said Narcissa.


    "Narcissa!" said Sahshir, genuinely horrified. Was she really suggesting they betray their allies?


    "Oh, come on!" said Narcissa. "You saw how the Emperor treats his loyal subjects! He massacred my people and tried to purge us! I have no loyalty to the man, and I''d love to see him die!"


    "Whatever his character, Macshore is his territory," said Sahshir flatly.


    "It is Sorn''s by legal contracts," replied Garric. "We found it, created the colony, and seeded the fields. We have come to take Macshore."


    "You took the island from the natives who lived there in the first place," said Sahshir. "You enslaved or murdered them. You Sornians go from island to island. You make trade deals with contracts the natives do not understand. Then you use those same deals to justify mass slaughter and enslavement.


    "Then you praise Coinfurth and cry to high heaven about seeking a peaceful solution.


    "You are the most abominable people to ever taint the earth. I will be damned before I side with you."


    "I''m sorry you feel that way," said Garric. "In truth, the examples you cited were done mainly by House Kaba. They can hardly be considered true Sornians. My own Lord, Carath Magnious, is no breaker of contracts. It was decided that he would gain more favorable economic terms if the island were in our direct control. So he ordered me to remove the natives by sword or chain. No contract was involved. In contrast, formal treaties were signed with Dinis. They made it ours in exchange for favorable prices.


    "I have them aboard my ship if you wish.


    "Those treaties that were violated by Dinis when they seized the island from us during the Era of Burning. Sorn has meant to take them back, and now the Knights of the Coin stand ready to do just that.


    "However, we have no designs on your territory. Far from it, we will focus on developing our conquests for maximum profits."


    "Why do you keep pretending you work for Sorn?" asked Narcissa. "You''re a Knight of the Coin. You don''t care if Sorn wins or loses as long as your order remains intact."


    "My personal feelings are irrelevant," said Garrick. "I represent my employer, and Garrick Estov is only a name.


    "If you would return to my ship, I''d be happy to negotiate-"


    Nagos drew out a white stone and hurt it at the ground. There was a flash, and the assembled soldiers fell backward by a burst of light. Nagos grabbed their arms and pulled them over the men. "Run!"


    They sprinted through the rocks, slipping past the archers. Arrows bounced off the stones around them as they went for the peak. Soon they left their enemies behind them and went higher still. Still, they had to slow down to climb further, and Sahshir hated the idea of falling.


    "What was that?" gasped Narcissa.


    "A flash stone," said Nagos. "A Naminean object I was taught to make by Serna''s parents. We''ve got to get up the mountain quick."


    "I take it this means your answer is no," said Sahshir.


    "I''m not going to give any answer on Garrick''s ship," said Nagos. "And anyway, just because Octavus isn''t good company doesn''t mean he deserves to be betrayed. He''s never done anything to me personally, and I don''t trust Sorn.


    "They rip up contracts whenever they think they can get a better deal by force."


    Then a howling wind shot down at them. Exactly on them, making it nearly impossible to scale higher. Sahshir could see the cave high above, but every inch seemed like a mile.


    "These winds... they''re slowing us down," said Nagos.


    "We have to press on," said Sahshir. "When we reach the cave, Garrick won''t be able to follow us."


    "He can just wait at the entrance and starve us out," noted Nagos.


    "Assuming there is only one entrance," noted Sahshir. "There might be several."


    "Garrick might not even be able to follow us that far," said Narcissa. "Don''t you feel it?"


    "Feel what?" asked Sahshir.


    "That presence in the air," said Narcissa. "Something out there, it hates us. It hates us more than anything."


    Sahshir looked up and felt his neck hairs stand on end. As he scaled higher, cold sweat fell over his brow. As they rose upward, he felt something. A presence. "Is that... Garacel?"


    "Master Garacel hates Baltoth, not us," said Narcissa. "Otherwise, he wouldn''t have spared you."


    "Do not call him that," said Sahshir.


    Narcissa looked away. "I''m sorry."


    And then Sahshir sensed a tremoring. Looking up, he saw waves of stones falling down toward them. "Look out! Get cover!"


    Quickly they slid into an alcove of rock. Then stones fell down around them, shattering down the mountain. So they came, kicking up dust and earth until the clamor finally ended.


    "A rockslide! How did he create a rockslide!" said Nagos.


    "Send a few stones down the mountain, and they may start an avalanche," said Sahshir. And then he spied Garrick and his men scaling up the mountain with the wind at their back. "There is Garrick now. He''s coming after us quickly." An arrow bounced off the stone next to him. "Climb faster."


    "I am climbing faster!" said Nagos before beginning to scale.


    Up they went, as Garrick and his men finally gained on them. Then they came to a plateau, and on it were many stone buildings. But all of them were empty, save for abandoned skeletons and valuables. So if no one had looted them, something must still be here.


    "A village," said Nagos. "I was here some years ago when we made port. It used to have hundreds of people in it.


    "What happened to them?"


    "It is a mystery we''ll have to solve later," said Sahshir, sensing the evil. "Come."


    They took a path upward, and as they walked, they felt the hatred growing nearer. Yet it did not seem to have a source or even a target. Instead, it was a festering loathing that permeated every stone and grass.


    "Was it... was it always like this?" asked Narcissa. "No plans."


    "No, not before," said Nagos. "At one time, there were trees up here. However, I feel like something has awakened recently."


    "But what?" asked Narcissa.


    "I don''t know," admitted Nagos. "But an old woman once told me a story. She said that the God of Hatred fought in the God Wars on the side of Typhos. He clashed with Elranor and was slain. His body was then entombed deep within the islands and, with it, all his power.


    "Waiting for the day when his successor comes." He paused. "Hang on a sec."


    Then he put a finger between his lips and whistled a complex tune. Something shifted.


    "What did you do?" asked Narcissa.


    "I just whistled Sheltath and told him to circle around the island until he nears my whistle," said Nagos. "That should make getting away easier. Once we get out, we can run down that way to the sea and get on him."


    "Assuming we aren''t caught with no way out," noted Sahshir as they came within sight of the cave.


    It was a bleak and enraging look. Every stone was barren. The dust was blowing in the wind, and the mouth of the cave was as black as night. The closer they got, the more violent the hatred around them became.


    "Are you sure there is no other way?" asked Nagos.


    "If there were, Alcaides would tell us," noted Sahshir.


    "He didn''t strike me as a very sane person, Sahshir," said Narcissa.


    "The fact is irrelevant," said Sahshir. "We have no time to find other means. Come, we must enter."


    Together they stepped into the darkness.

 Chapter 236 - Thirteen: Demons

    Almost as soon as they entered, everything went wrong.


    In the darkness, Nagos slipped and fell forward. Narcissa grabbed him, and she nearly fell after him. Below them was a vast abyss that descended into endless darkness. Faint red lights could be seen emanating from the darkness.


    Narcissa pulled him back with difficulty, and he fell against her shoulder.


    "Thank you," said Nagos, looking around. "There''s a way down there."


    Sahshir peered into the dark, then drew out the Sword of Order. The light emanated, and he saw a narrow path leading down into the darkness. Glancing back, Sahshir saw the cave mouth showing Garrick and his men scaling up toward them.


    "It''ll be trouble," said Nagos.


    "They''re still following us," said Sahshir. "Down, quickly."


    So they descended the winding path, keeping to the wall. They were torn between the need for haste and the drop near them. Even as the path led down, Sahshir glanced back from the rear to see Garrick pursuing.


    The man moved with confidence, slowing only for those who walked behind.


    "Doesn''t that elf ever stop?" asked Narcissa from the front.


    "It does not seem so," noted Sahshir,


    "Look out!" cried Nagos.


    There was a shadowy blur, and something rose over them. Sahshir brought around his sword to hack back a claw. It came off at the wrist, and the beast surged backward, only for the claw to regrow. But others came up to aid it. Narcissa slashed one back as others surged toward Garrick.


    "What are these things?!" said Nagos.


    "Demons," guessed Sahshir, cutting one in two. "Down, quickly, we must reach the lower ground. Nagos, draw your sword!"


    And down they went. Nagos struggled to draw his own sword as they scaled downward, and more of the beasts came at them. Fortunately, most seemed focused on Garrick, whose men fought valiantly. Arrows pierced the creatures as Garrick himself slashed them in twain with ease. His sword moved in a blur.


    Yet when the demons died, they left no bodies. They simply faded back into the darkness before another formed in their place. Down they went as quickly as possible, having to fight the whole way. Nagos was useless here; his sword was swung around blindly like a club. He mostly did ward off a few, but he at least knew enough to avoid getting ripped to shreds.


    Soon the darkness faded, and they saw a massive red gem at the bottom of the cave. But, even as they reached the end of the spiral, they found an enemy before them. He was a massive armor giant, but no sign of a face could be seen beyond his helmet. In one hand was an enormous sword, and he gazed at them with what might of amusement. "You trespass, warriors. This place is not yours to set foot within."


    "Well, we didn''t have much choice," said Nagos.


    "Your choices are of no concern." said the man. "I am the Withering King. Return from when you came, now, or be consumed-" He halted suddenly as if hearing something. "-are you certain, Lucius?" He lowered his sword. "Very well.


    "I have been ordered to escort you to Lucius. He will not accept no for an answer."


    "Your master does not concern me," said Sahshir.


    Dozens of demons landed all around them.


    "Sahshir, let''s just play along for now," said Narcissa. "I don''t want to fight all these guys."


    "The Battleluster is wiser than you." noted the figure.


    "I''m with Narcissa; I don''t even know how to use a sword," said Nagos, with a cut on his brow. Sahshir considered his chances and then noted that Garrick seemed to have drawn back. Or been killed. Either was possible. "...Very well. But none shall take the Sword of Order from me."


    "We were not ordered to take your weapons." said the figure. "More are coming. Creatures of hatred consume these interlopers."


    All the demons surged upward, and the sound of fighting resounded above. Sahshir was impressed that it continued well after the first few moments. Finally, the figure turned and led them through a passageway, followed by Nagos and Narcissa.


    "Nagos, do you have no combat training?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yeah, why do you ask?" asked Nagos.


    "Why didn''t you say so?" asked Narcissa.


    "I didn''t think it was important," said Nagos. "Fighting takes a lot more energy than talking, and I never had a chance to learn to fight.


    "Pirates like to pick easy targets. If you''re having a pitched battle, you''re doing something wrong. The general deal is that if the ship surrenders, you let them live. If they resist, you kill them all. When they resisted, I generally hid in the rigging."


    "Those are the actions of a coward." scoffed Sahshir.


    "Look, that was what they wanted me to do," said Nagos. "I was the only person who knew how to read and write."


    "You should have joined the battle anyway," said Sahshir. "War is the affair of men."


    "Lay off him, Sahshir," said Narcissa. "He''d be cut to ribbons without any training."


    "You''re one to talk," noted Sahshir.


    "I sort of cheated, okay," said Narcissa. "Amysta''s presence in my spirit allows me to learn weaponry more quickly."


    "Anyway, why are we talking about me?" asked Nagos, looking to the armored figure. "Who are you? Whose this Lord of Hatred we''re going to visit?"


    "I am the Withering King." said the man. "As for the Lord of Hatred, there is no Lord of Hatred now. His body lies entombed in this place, and I merely take the role of a... guardian of sorts."


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    "Then why were you raiding the surrounding area?" asked Narcissa. "Why would you destroy that village?"


    "They keep the domain alive." said the Withering King. "Hatred is more than an emotion; it also requires action to be real. To hate someone without doing anything to harm them is merely a dislike.


    "Also, they kept sending adventurers to kill the demons in this place, and I got sit of them being on my doorstep."


    "Just as love without action is mere infatuation," noted Nagos.


    "Do not speak of such horrors." said the Withering King. "We were also ordered to. The coming of a new Lord of Hatred is nigh."


    The Withering King came to a door and planted his sword. As he did, the doors swung open. "Lord Elcano awaits you."


    "Elcano?" asked Nagos.


    "Or Lucius as he is known to Harlenorians as I once was." said the Withering King.


    "Oh right, him," said Nagos. "Um, isn''t he the Withering King?"


    "A common misconception." said the Withering. "All authority is mine. Lucius is merely my... benefactor. Enter."


    They entered through the doors and found an immense fire at the hall''s center. Six huge pillars stood with horrible symbols on them. At the far end of the hall was a sarcophagus with the image of a stone warrior.


    And between the flame and sarcophagus, there was a table. A spectral figure that seemed to be a cloaked man but with nothing within. He turned to them and bowed. "Welcome, welcome, please. I am Lucius, and I''ve had some tea prepared. Or would you care for some wine instead?"


    "We do not drink wine. Baltoth forbids it," said Sahshir, coming forward.


    "Ah, yes, forgive me," said Lucius. "I had forgotten that custom. Unfortunately, my business does not usually bring me into the affairs of Calisha; still, there is tea if you would like." He turned to Narcissa. "And you, Narcissa, I believe. Zigildrazia was quite descriptive about you. You are every bit the beauty she remarked on."


    "Thank you," said Narcissa, taken aback.


    Lucius looked to Nagos. "And you are..."


    "King Nagos, can I have some wine?" asked Nagos. "Serna never lets me drink any of it."


    "Fair enough," said Lucius, pulling several chairs from the tables. "Now, why don''t we sit down. We need to discuss a certain amount of business and only a little time to discuss it." He poured a cup of wine and offered it to Nagos, who drank it. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What do you want?" asked Sahshir, not sitting down and giving Narcissa a look when she tried.


    "Well, simply put, I am the Demonic Archon of Envy," said Lucius. "And I''ve been chosen to mediate the succession for the Lord of Hatred."


    "Succession?" asked Narcissa. "There hasn''t been a Lord of Hatred since the God War."


    "Well, yes, but the domain still exists," said Lucius. "Garacel''s brother, Akalmush, was the Lord of Hatred, slain by Elranor in single combat. Ordinarily, when a god kills another god, the winner absorbs the loser''s power. They then pass it on to a mortal child later.


    "But Elranor thought of hatred as wholly useless for his purposes. So he refuses to have his way with mortals. The only mortal he ever fell in love with he married and lived with till the day she died."


    "That''s sweet," said Narcissa.


    Lucius looked annoyed at that. "And highly inconvenient. Because the power of hatred was effectively fully suppressed with no outlet. Elranor did hate some people, but he regards his hatred as a liability. To him, it is something that clouds his judgment. So he never actually used it. But with the whole cycle of revenge building up between Calisha and Harlenor. With everyone killing everyone else, it became a problem. The domain of hatred began to seep into Elranor''s judgment.


    "So he went to the tomb of the God of Hatred and pushed the domain back into his corpse." He motioned to the tomb behind them. "Over there."


    "Then why are you here?" asked Nagos. "Shouldn''t Elranor be telling us this?"


    "Elranor is involved, but unfortunately, he is biased," said Lucius. "I''ve been chosen to mediate since I''m uninvolved."


    "Mediate what?" asked Sahshir.


    "The successor," said Lucius. "Hatred is a domain like any other and needs regulation. But, as things stand, it has been festering for centuries."


    "Wouldn''t the world be better without hatred?" asked Nagos.


    Lucius laughed before suddenly stopping. "No, of course not. When all hope is lost, hatred drives you to keep going. When all you care for has been destroyed by your enemies, the desire to hurt them lets you survive."


    "That''s just revenge," said Nagos.


    "What of the hatred of injustice, then?" asked Lucius. "One might see something desperately wrong in the world. Love would compel you to avoid confrontation. To soothe the pains of all involved while ignoring the source. But hatred, hatred would inspire you to strike at injustice. To destroy that which is wrong and raise up the right.


    "Love is a beautiful thing, but it leads to complacency. You rest in love. You act in hatred."


    "So what now?" asked Sahshir, not wanting anymore to do with this specter than necessary.


    "Well, Sahshir, there is a dispute as to who should become the Lord of Hatred," said Lucius. "Elranor is planning to prop up Garacel for the job. Garacel hates Baltoth passionately, which would end to Elranor''s benefit. He''s not unqualified for the job and has a legitimate claim. But I was hoping we might make alternative arrangements.


    "How would you feel about being Lord of Hatred, Sahshir?"


    "Me?" asked Sahshir, not trusting the matter. "Why me?"


    "Well, you have been driven by anger after all," said Lucius. "Anger is the thing that keeps one like yourself going. You are powerful, and you clearly despise Garacel with a passion.


    "It is not perfect, but enough to stall him."


    "Wait a minute, I thought Garacel was already a god," said Narcissa.


    "Garacel is, at the moment, a god without a domain to speak of," said Lucius. "Much as a King may be the legitimate heir to a throne, but hold no authority."


    "And why do you want to help me gain this power?" asked Sahshir, thinking all this too convenient.


    "I''m interested in keeping Baltoth and Elranor fighting among one another," said Lucius. "I envision a great war that shall purge all my enemies. And I want that war to be as evenly matched as possible.


    "The way things are going, Garacel will end up on Elranor''s side. So, I need to keep him from getting any more powerful."


    "What do you want me to do?" asked Sahshir.


    Lucius motioned to the sarcophagus, and it slid open. "Take the Sword of Order and plunge it into the body of Akalmush. The blade will act as a channel from which the spirit of hatred will enter into you. You will become a god, albeit lesser, more than Garacel''s equal.


    "The rotting flesh which besets you shall be restored."


    For the first time, Sahshir started listening. He was dying, and if this worked, he could be healed. The disease that had rotted his body because of Father''s actions could be purified. He stepped forward, but then a hand caught his shoulder.


    "Don''t do it, Sahshir," said Nagos quickly. "This is too easy." He looked to Lucius. "What is the catch?"


    "Well, the catch is that doing this will taint the Sword of Order," said Lucius. "It will become an artifact of hatred as much as Order. Yours to command rather than Baltoth''s.


    "But have you not earned it?


    "You gave the Grail of Immortality to Baltoth, which was long lost and has received little reward. And if you were to become a god in such a way, you could aid him far better."


    "Assuming it doesn''t consume you," noted Narcissa. "Sahshir, I have such a being within me. You don''t realize that its voice isn''t yours."


    "It is a risk," said Lucius. "But indeed, the reward is far too great to yield. The power of a god at your disposal, your disease healed, life eternal yours. Surely you could repay your debt to Baltoth tenfold through service to him. And if he isn''t satisfied with that, what could he be happy with?


    "I leave the choice to Baltoth."


    Sahshir moved forward and looked into the tomb. There lay Akalmush in silent repose. Though his body radiated with the heart of hatred itself, his face was strangely peaceful. Raising the sword, he considered whether to do it.


    Surely if he continued to serve Baltoth with all his heart and soul as the Lord of Hatred, it would only be to His benefit. But would it? To begin service by stealing a sword from his master would be a wrong way to start. But if he did not, he would be dead soon. Didn''t Sahshir deserve the chance to prove himself worthy of the immortals?


    But there were others like him. Beggars cursed with diseases that hadn''t had any of the advantages Sahshir had been given. Many were far worse off and might make the same choice differently.


    "It is written:" said Sahshir, "all things end as they begin. So I shall not begin with a betrayal of my god." And he sheathed his sword to walk away.


    Lucius eyed him. "...I see. And what would you do instead?"


    "This body will be taken from this place," said Sahshir. "I will not betray Lord Baltoth nor break my agreement with Alcaides."


    Lucius sighed. "You disappoint me.


    "Still, it is your decision, and I respect it. You may leave whenever you wish. Take the body. I shall make no move against you."


    That was... unexpectedly easy. Too easy.

 Chapter 237 - Fourteen: Alcaides Choice

    The Withering King was gone when the party left. The only sign he had been there was a faint whispering on winds from above. So were the demons, for that matter, their power departing for other dimensions. Their journey out of the pit of hell was strange and, at the same time, uneventful. At one point, Narcissa nearly tripped in the dark and had to be caught by Sahshir. She hung out over the edge for a moment, breathing heavily before being pulled back. She enjoyed the danger. They carried the body of the former Lord of Hatred out of the darkness. As they did, the power lessened, and the effect on their minds and wills also did.


    They saw no sign of Garrick or his men as they traveled down the mountain, and Sahshir continued to sense for them. Yet there was a strange feeling in the air that had replaced it. There was something that spoke to Sahshir of a hidden threat. They descended into the woods and found a group of satyrs with bows and javelins waiting for them.


    They howled aloud, and Sahshir set his hand to his sword. However, Nagos caught him. "Wait, wait, that''s a greeting."


    Sahshir hesitated as the satyrs came forward. One of them carried a staff with a red cloth, marking him as a messenger. "King Alcaides has sent us to watch for you." said the leader. "Your success is observed. Now come with us to his domain."


    Sahshir looked to Narcissa, then back. There was no point in defying them here; they had to meet with him eventually. "Take us to him."


    The satyrs led them into the woods and into danker and darker places. The trees here hung with many ferns and bugs everywhere, while vines hung from the canopy above. It was miserably humid in the sun above. Narcissa''s scanty clothes left her exposed skin glimmering with sweat. Nagos kept looking at her and trying to hide the movement. Meanwhile, Sahshir cursed that no bugs were going after her. What did everyone else find so fascinating about Narcissa''s breasts anyway?


    Yes, they were large. Very large. Obscenely large. And they were packed into black leather that bared much of them.


    What of it?


    The satyrs, meanwhile, seemed used to it and paid it no heed. Soon they came into a series of huts built by the sea. Yet they were constructed so that they seemed part of the trees. Hounds surged toward them, snarling and pulling at chains before being called back.


    A great bonfire was burning at the center, and many satyrs were dancing around it while howling. Others were drinking from cups of wine and playing dice or cards. There were also humans, dwarves, and even a few elves. All carried with them spears and long shields. Several skeletal bodies were hanging from trees, picked clean by birds. Alcaides sat on a steel throne with several satyr women near him. With one hand, he was scratching a tiger behind the ears.


    As the party entered, the dancing halted, and Alcaides motioned. The leader came forward and prostrated himself. "King Alcaides, I have brought them before you."


    "So you have," said Alcaides. "King Alcaides is pleased by your fervor. Where is the body?"


    Sahshir motioned to Narcissa, whose turn it was to carry it. She laid the body down before him, and Alcaides smiled widely. "Why do you even want this?" asked Narcissa.


    "King Alcaides'' ways are not those of mortals," said Alcaides. "His power and wisdom are beyond the scope of mortal beings."


    "Enlighten me," said Sahshir deadpan.


    "I had a similar question." noted a familiar voice.


    Sahshir looked up and saw Garrick emerging from the shadows. None of the pirates found his presence remarkable. Looking closer, he saw the steel of mail coats among many robed figures on the outskirts.


    Alcaides eyed him in amusement. Then he laughed, a huge, booming laugh. "King Alcaides will explain. Sorn wishes to bask in King Alcaides'' power. He desires I bestow on them certain artifacts from my collection. In return, their fleets shall aid me in the glorious conquest of my ancient enemy.


    "The winds shall arise at Alcaides'' command! My enemies shall be destroyed!"


    "Would it not be better to consume the power of the domain yourself?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    "King Alcaides will not explain that," said Alcaides quickly.


    "If I might, your majesty, there is the matter of the body," said Garrick. "It radiates the power of hatred, and it had best be destroyed."


    "Let it be so!" said Alcaides. "Pile wood and fern and leaf, and let the smoke of the burning rise to heaven!"


    "What of our agreement?" asked Garrick.


    "Oh yes, Alcaides shall honor it," said Alcaides quickly.


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    "What of our agreement?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    "Alcaides shall honor that too," said Alcaides.


    Sahshir wondered if his agreement with Garrick didn''t contradict his own. Or if Alcaides was simply insane. It could be both.


    "Your majesty, Sorn is, at the moment, about to fight a war with Dinis," said Garrick. "And Kalthak is allied with Dinis. Even as we speak, their fleets are gathering at Chaminus.


    "If you side with one of us, you cannot side with the other."


    "All things are possible with Alcaides," said Alcaides. "What you view as contradictions are merely manifestations of the same ultimate power. One that is as one, if gazed upon with proper understanding." He paused. "Alcaides does not want the inconvenience of finding a way to side with both armies.


    "As such, you will both fight to the death for Alcaides'' amusement, and I will side with the winner."


    Garrick put his face in his hands. Sahshir had the feeling he''d been at this for some time. "If I might ask King Alcaides, how can you side with one of us when the battle would be won? Would that not... dilute your apparent magnificence somewhat."


    "Then we shall make it a matter of single combat!" said Alcaides. "King Sahshir and Captain Garrick shall duel in single combat to the death!"


    "It is considered unseemly among my people to kill kings," said Garrick. "Perhaps you would allow us to fight until first blood?"


    "King Alcaides shall allow this," said Alcaides.


    With a sigh, Sahshir stepped forward as the men parted ways. Garrick motioned, and a Dust Elven boy brought him his blade. Drawing it from the sheathe, he set it. Sahshir drew his own blade and took a stance. Garrick obviously knew what he was doing by his posture.


    "You are not rested," noted Garrick. "Facing an exhausted opponent does not seem a fair match. The contract could be considered illegitimate. King Alcaides, will you allow me to pray to Coinfurth for victory?"


    "As you wish," said Alcaides.


    Garrick fell to his knees rather than sitting crosslegged or prostrating himself. Sahshir sat down crosslegged and examined his enemy. He wondered why he would not take the advantage. Tuor certainly would have, and Asim might have as well. Would Sahshir? It did not seem befitting a samurai, but the old ways had been fading a long time. Even so, it would be best to focus on victory. Garrick had superior reach and power; if he called on the winds, it could be trouble. Sahshir should thus get close.


    Closing his eyes, Sahshir meditated. He pushed through the agony that filled him and gained strength. He pondered like this, musing over things, as Garrick remained kneeling.


    After a few minutes, they rose and faced one another. Once again, their stances were held as their blades were out.


    "Are you prepared?" asked Garrick.


    "I am," said Sahshir.


    "Begin!" cried Alcaides. "While Alcaides'' patience lasts!"


    Sahshir surged forward, his blade rushing toward Garrick. Yet even as he did, Garrick spun away and brought round a strike that nearly scraped his brow. Stepping back, Sahshir was almost stabbed by the massive blade before he parried it.


    Springing into the air, Sahshir shot over the blade. Then he brought his sword down toward Garrick''s neck. But the Dust Elf rolled forward and brought around his sword again. They clashed, and Sahshir was forced back by the weight of the stroke.


    For a moment, they stood dead still. "You are skilled, Kalthakian. Well deserving of your reputation."


    "Seldom have I seen so skilled an enemy who cared for nothing but money," noted Sahshir.


    "Money is merely a representation of value," said Garrick. "Value is how all things are achieved. And you will not interfere."


    "Yes!" cried Alcaides. "Yes, the fight pleases King Alcaides! Fight on! Fight on!"


    Garrick surged forward, unleashing a flurry of blows that drove Sahshir back to the sea. Whenever he tried to break free of the onslaught or reverse momentum, Garrick would catch him. Soon he was fighting with the soldier on the pier.


    Sahshir had an idea and ducked under a strike before slashing downward. His blade cut the boards at Garrick''s feet, and they gave way. The Dust Elf sprang back, but Sahshir was on him at once. He drove Garrick back with one slash and thrust after another. Suddenly, just as he reached the sand, Garrick spun his sword, and a gust of wind put Sahshir off balance. He struck, but Sahshir allowed himself to fall.


    Both slashed, and their blades rang.


    For a moment, Sahshir wasn''t sure what had happened. Then he saw a bloody mark on Garrick''s cheek. Sahshir smiled. "You are defeated."


    "Look down, Kalthakian," replied Garrick, voice calm.


    Sahshir did look down and saw a wound on his leg. He''d hardly even felt it. Howling cheers came from the pirates as Alcaides leaped down from his cheer and neared them. "A draw, is it? Well, this is troublesome. The duel was to first blood, and King Alcaides doubts a rematch would be worthwhile.


    "Let me see the wounds." Alcaides eyed each one carefully before turning to the audience. "King Sahshir inflicted the larger wound. He is the winner!"


    "May I assume we are now enemies?" asked Garrick, sheathing his sword.


    No reaction? No condemnation or fury at a defeat? Not even a sign of disappointment or injured pride? Was Garrick a man or an automaton like those made in ancient Namina?


    "If you continue as you are, yes," said Alcaides. "But King Alcaides is merciful and will allow you to leave with your ships! And woe to you should King Alcaides meet you on the battlefield."


    Garrick nodded. "Very well then, Men, we go to our ships. The Curse of Hatred is removed from this island. I am certain it will be productive once we have conquered it."


    And he walked off with all his men.


    "...There is an empty one," noted Alcaides. "But it matters not. Build the pyre! The time has come for us to burn the body of the Lord of Hatred. In so doing, we dispel the menace!"


    "What will happen to the Domain of Hatred?" asked Nagos.


    "It shall go beyond the influence of any power and bestow itself on one who is most deserving," said Alcaides. "That may be ages from now."


    "How is that different from before?" asked Nagos.


    "Before the domain of hatred could not take form," said Sahshir. "Now, with this pyre, it will once again be released. The plans of Elranor foiled."


    Even so, Sahshir would be lying if he said he wasn''t disappointed. Garrick hadn''t even cared that he was defeated. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Only once they were on Sheltath, Sahshir realized Garrick would make a good samurai. It was an odd realization that a mercenary should have such honor and devotion. Yet it was a different kind of honor, which Sahshir did not understand fully. He wondered who had taught it to Garrick and what reception he would receive on his return home.


    Would he be punished for failure? Disgraced? Or applauded?


    Sahshir decided he could not hate the man in the end.

 Chapter 238 - Fifteen: The Return

    A few days later, Sheltath sped toward the island of Chaminus in the distance and it was a welcome sight. Long hours of journeying under a beating sun had seen them all become tired, though Narcissa looked just fine. Nagos did not look fine, but he was taking it in stride. He was lying on his back, admiring the clouds without apparent investment. Sahshir was polishing the Sword of Order, while Narcissa was doing the same for her axe. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sahshir wondered how Nagos stayed so calm and casual about everything. This great quest, narrowly achieved, had hardly thrown him off. On the surface he seemed too friendly, inexperienced even. But it was obvious that Nagos had seen far more than Sahshir or Narcissa had.


    All without any skill with a weapon.


    It would have been impressive if it hadn''t been so foolish.


    "I still can''t believe this actually worked," blurted Nagos as he sat up.


    "This was your idea, Nagos," noted Narcissa. "Why would you go for it if you didn''t think it would work?"


    "Honestly, I just wanted to get off Chaminus," said Nagos with a shrug. "It''s a nice place to live, but it can get old. And anyway, it wouldn''t have been any fun at all sticking around there with all those legionnaires."


    "They might cause trouble in your absence," noted Sahshir. "If they did, and we''d failed, things could have gone awry for naught."


    "But we didn''t fail, and the island is fine," said Nagos. "Sahshir, you can''t plan things out past a certain point. The only way you can enjoy things is if you let go of the illusion of control.


    "You never can tell what''s going to happen next, so you''ve just got to go with the flow."


    "I know that when I hit someone in the neck with my sword, the head will come off," replied Sahshir, disliking his casual approach. "When I give an order to a loyal subordinate, I can expect it to be carried out to the best of that subordinate''s ability.


    "Control is possible."


    "Sure, but you''ll never know whether the subordinate will succeed or not," said Nagos. "And if you plan for one and the other happens, you won''t be able to react."


    "But if you plan for both, you will be in a position to deal with all possibilities," noted Sahshir, though he himself had not done so.


    "Sahshir, there are infinite different possibilities in the world," said Nagos. "No matter how many plans you make, all of them will end up being dead wrong. At best, you''ll be able to adjust one of your existing plans to work.


    "So I just don''t plan at all. I''m nice to people and try to figure out a way things can work as I go."


    "Have you ever tried building a house while ''making things work as you go?''" asked Narcissa suddenly.


    "No," admitted Nagos.


    "Well, I''ve seen it happen, and it''s impossible," said Narcissa. "Constructing a house takes time and planning. If you don''t plan, it will collapse in on itself, or the area will be wrong."


    "Fine, fine, so maybe some planning is good," said Nagos as they neared the island. "Now can you guys relax, we''ve got the fleet we needed. Garrick lost his storm, we''re all good." He stood, leaped off Sheltath, and waded ashore. "Thanks a bunch, pal."


    "I live to serve," said Sheltath.


    Sahshir and Narcissa stepped off onto the land as well. Nagos led them onto the docks, stretching as he did. "Now, what say we head to the palace and...." He paused. "Where is everyone?"


    No one was about. That much could be seen, despite the waning light. But Sahshir felt a sense of unease and fear about the place.


    "I don''t know, but I don''t like the looks of this," said Narcissa. "We should-"


    Nagos walked up to a nearby door and started banging on it loudly. "Hey, open up Serna! Open up! It''s Nagos! King Nagos!"


    The door opened, and Serna looked out frantically. "Quiet, there are legionnaires about! Nagos, what are you doing here?"


    "This is my island," said Nagos, looking a little annoyed.


    "I know, but I mean, I wasn''t expecting you back for a while," said Serna.


    "What are you even doing here?" said Nagos. "I''d thought you''d be working on that steam canon whatchamacallit." He was feigning ignorance, wasn''t he? Nagos wasn''t that dim.


    "I left the palace. I didn''t think it was safe," admitted Serna.


    "What do you mean it''s not safe?" asked Nagos, looking to the ships all around them. "We''ve got an entire fleet here and three more on the way."


    "One moment," said Serena. "You three come in here."


    Then went in quickly, and Serna led them to a table. Servants quickly brought tea as they sat down. Then Serna told them the story. "Listen, Nagos, after you left, the Emperor Octavus took up residence in your palace. He complained extensively about the d¨¦cor, the good, and then... well, he got comfortable."


    "How is that bad?" asked Nagos. "He can say what he wants."


    "He... he''s been tormenting the servants day and night," said Serna. "Always demanding one thing or another and then changing his mind out of spite. His Mother didn''t do anything to reign him in, and he''s been... well... getting worse." A shadow was over her as she spoke.


    Nagos went very, very still, and looked cold. As if his flesh had turned to ice. "What did he do?"


    "He, he called for the finest minstrel on the island to play," said Serna. "Well, Telagix is considered that, since he plays for you and all. But Octavus didn''t like the music so..." She paused.


    "What. Did. He. Do?" asked Nagos, voice cold.


    "He ordered his eyes and tongue cut out, then threw him in the dungeons," said Serna. "He''s also given a royal command that he only be healed enough to live, not to have his senses restored."


    Nagos stood up. "Where is Octavus now?"


    "Having a feast inside your palace," said Serna. "He''s always calling for more food and fine wines. I got out with the rest of the servants after that, and Octavus has brought his own retinue in."


    "Good," said Nagos. "I don''t have to feel sorry about what comes next then."


    "Nagos, wait," said Serna. "You can''t act against him. His legionnaires are patrolling the streets, if anything happens to him, they''ll blame us. They''ll burn us to the ground.


    "Don''t do anything. I know you can, but... but don''t do anything here. Please, they''ll burn this place to the ground."


    Why was she so confident Nagos could kill Octavius, he had no fighting abilities to speak of. No great armies or powerful subordinates. And yet, Sahshir felt a chill as Nagos beamed happily. He had the feeling that Nagos was dangerous enough to do something like that. And provided he could pin the blame on a rival, he could avoid punishment. "Don''t worry about it, Serna. I''m not the kind of guy to get real mad and act all crazy. I''m just going to talk with Octavus and work all this out."


    "Nagos..." said Serna, looking genuinely terrified. But of what?


    Nagos put a hand to her shoulder. "I told you. Don''t worry. Now get me a pen and some paper." One of the servants hurried off and brought it. "I have it."


    "Good," said Nagos. "Thanks a lot, Alagosh." He quickly wrote out several letters, rolled them up, and sealed them. Using his ring, he put his mark on each one. "Now, Serna, go to Sheltath with my ring. Tell him to take you to the people these letters are addressed to. Give them to each one and wait for a reply."


    "What are the letters?" asked Sahshir.


    "Oh come on, Sahshir, let''s leave something for the ending," said Nagos. "Serna, go now." There was a command in that cheery voice, and Serna shuddered, before bowing.


    "Yes, milord," said Serna before taking the letters and hurrying out.


    Nagos'' smile faded and he turned to the door.


    "What are you doing?" asked Narcissa.


    "I''m going to go have a chat with Octavus," asked Nagos, walking out the door.


    "Are you planning to betray him?" asked Narcissa flatly.


    "Of course not," said Nagos. "I just want to talk him into giving Telagix a break."


    What?


    That did not match up with his prior manner at all.


    "What are you doing, Nagos?" asked Sahshir.


    "Making a plan as I go," said Nagos as they walked up toward the palace.


    Sahshir had the feeling this was going to end badly.


    "You there, identify yourself." called a familiar voice.


    Sahshir looked up, and to his surprise, saw Marius coming toward them. He was at the head of a large troop of soldiers. As they neared, he ordered a halt. "King Nagos, King Abdul Sahshir, and Queen Narcissa. Forgive me, we''ve had orders to halt anyone traveling after dark. The Empress Mother is... distrustful."


    "She''s not a Queen," snapped Sahshir, not liking how he was put on the same level as Narcissa. "But a valued subordinate. And we''ve returned from a mission, and we''ve come to report the addition of powerful new allies to the Emperor''s Fleet."


    "So you''re the one in charge of these natives," said Marius coming forward to clasp his three-fingered hand. "King Sahshir, you look well."


    "I wear a mask. Of course, I look well," said Sahshir.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Marius grinned. "Fair enough, follow us to the Emperor."


    On they walked, and as they did, Narcissa looked to Nagos. "Are you sure about this?"


    "Relax, we''ve got nothing but good news," said Nagos. "Hey, um, what''s your name?"


    "I am Captain Marius of the Legions," said Marius.


    "Great, great, so what''s it like where you''re from?" asked Nagos.


    Marius eyed him. "Why do you ask?"


    "Well, I''ve never been to Dinis before, and I thought I might learn about the place," said Nagos. "I''m technically a citizen of that land, so I ought to know more about it."


    "I''m from the province of Alchives, which is in the west," said Marius. "They mostly dodged the disaster at Zigilus while I fought there. They are far south and shielded by mountains."


    "Right, so, you grow olives there, don''t you?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes, my family owns a farm. Why do you ask?" asked Marius.


    "Well, I''m just curious why you joined the Dinis army," said Nagos.


    "To fight and bring glory to my family," said Marius. "To serve the Emperor with all my heart and soul. And to gain wealth."


    "And what do you think of this whole campaign?" asked Nagos. "Do you think the General is running things up to the Emperor''s standards?"


    Marius halted and looked back. "Well, truth be told, I have my doubts about General Aridius. There were rumors that he fled from the field of battle at Zigilus. Rumors that I will say nothing on."


    "Butchers," snarled Narcissa under her breathe.


    "What?" asked Marius, looking at her were a hard gaze.


    "Nothing at all," said Narcissa.


    "Anyway, I''m not sure why he was promoted," said Marius. "Zigilus might have been a victory, but we lost many men. Replacing our losses will take time."


    "Replace?" asked Sahshir. "With no disrespect to your men''s courage. The casualties in that victory were beyond replacement."


    "Dinis always rebuilds," said Marius. "There are many who would kill to fight and die for the Emperor. Even now they are being mustered."


    "Hmm? Is that a saying?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes. It is," said Marius. "Dinis has suffered many catastrophes in its life. We''ve been raided by Babarassians, we''ve seen our homes torn by civil war. But we always rebuild its answer and those that fight us always fail. No matter how many of us must die to ensure they do.


    "You Kalthakians fight for personal glory. We legionnaires fight for the glory of our standard. For our brethren. When your greatest warrior falls, it is a terrible loss. Ours provides motivation to press on.


    "Dinis always rebuilds."


    "Except when you burn entire cities to the ground for having a different religion, of course," noted Narcissa, rightfully bitter.


    "Zigilus launched an unauthorized assault on Kalthak, inviting war with Calisha," said Marius. "They also obviously were planning to unleash a horde of demons on that region. Or they''d never have been able to summon that many on short notice.


    "It is more than likely that we spared those innocents within the city the horror of being devoured."


    "Did you ever meet the Emperor, Marius?" asked Nagos, curious.


    "Few men merit a personal meeting with the Emperor," admitted Marius. "I was congratulated by the Empress Mother and assigned the position."


    "So Atria is the one who runs things?" guessed Sahshir.


    "I gather that she has been acting on his behalf until he comes of age," said Marius, voice guarded.


    "And when will that be?" asked Sahshir.


    "Why are you asking these questions, King Sahshir?" asked Marius. "Deception does no man credit."


    "I wish to understand Dinis," said Sahshir.


    "You cannot understand Dinis without seeing it," replied Marius.


    "Then I shall withhold judgment until that day comes," said Sahshir. But, privately, he was almost certain what was judgment would be. Dinis was on its last legs. Its ruler was less than impressive, it''s armies were failing. The enemies of its people came in from all sides.


    But all that could be survived. It was the rot of corruption that was slowly killing it. No matter how valiantly it fought, no matter how many it killed, it would die. The only question was whether it would live long enough expire of sickness.


    A situation Sahshir could understand.


    "Here we are, the Emperor''s palace," said Marius as they reached the palace high above the city.


    "My palace," said Nagos.


    "Hmm?" asked Marius.


    "This is my palace," said Nagos in a matter of fact, tone. "The Emperor is here as an honored guest."


    "Well yes, I merely meant that this realm is an extension of Dinis and there Emperor is dwelling within," said Marius quickly. "So, for the moment, it is his palace.


    "I did not mean offense."


    "None taken, thanks for taking us this far," said Nagos before giving a smile that didn''t quite reach his eyes.


    On they walked, while Marius returned. Soon they came to the guards, and these wore the opulent dress of the royal guard. One raised a sword. "Hold where you are? Who approaches the palace of the Emperor?" His tone was proud.


    "The allies of Emperor Octavus return with success and victory and wish an audience with him," said Sahshir.


    But Nagos simply walked forward without a word. "I''m King Nagos. I am a Dinis Citizen and a loyal servant of the Empire. I''m going to my house." But as he walked forward, a blade was put to his throat.


    "Stop where you are native," snarled the man, "your barbarian titles mean nothing to me."


    "It''s my house," said Nagos flatly.


    "I have not received permission." said the man. "And I see no reason to-"


    "Will it make you feel better if we wait for the Emperor''s permission to tell him about his now inevitable victory?" asked Sahshir in a fury. "Or shall I just go tell his new allies that the deal is off. Let us in, or I will take my fleets home this very day, and you can fight Sorn on your own.


    "I''ve had more than my share of misfortune on your behalf already, and there are other hills I can die on than this one."


    The guards looked to one another and seemed to speak to one another. "We will tell him. But you would do well to speak with more respect. Emperor Octavus has little patience for disrespect."


    "Does he like music?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    The guard paled slightly at some memory. "...Not really. I recommend keeping any, well, local minstrels out of his way. There was a poor wretch in here recently who lost his eyes and tongue for playing a tune he didn''t like.


    "Not even a satyr deserves that.


    "I''ll keep it in mind," said Nagos.


    So they waited on the doorstep. Nagos stayed in place, while Sahshir paced. Eventually, a servant came back and spoke to the guard. The guard looked up. "The Emperor has given you permission to attend his feast."


    "My thanks to him," said Sahshir, disliking this alliance all the more by the moment. What manner of leader held lavish feasts while a war was on? No, only a fool judged quickly. The feasts might have been a formality, and actual business might be discussed there.


    "You go on ahead," said Narcissa. "You don''t need me here, and I don''t trust myself to be civil after what he did. I''ll just wait here, polish my axe."


    "As you wish," said Sahshir, not begrudging her. Having the leader of what remained of Zigilus present could be a liability anyway. "Do as you like."


    Sahshir and Nagos were escorted into the palace. It was amazing how a place could be so different without a stone out of place. Armed guards were patrolling the center, and the number of torches had been doubled. Garish banners covered the walls. Servants wearing white robes scurried here and there.


    And then they came into the hall, where Sahshir, Nagos, and Narcissa had eaten dinner a little over a week ago. It was all the more transformed. Dozens of courtiers, many of them fat, were eating lavish banquets. Great tables had been set up, and harp music was being played by some very terrified minstrels.


    And the clothes, garish, inlaid with gold and jewels. No man could fight, or work, or even be comfortable in such silken garments. How expensive must these have been? What else could the money spent on such obscene clothes be used for? How many swords could have been forged, or paupers fed?


    It occurred to Sahshir that he and Nagos could hardly compare. Their clothes were worn and travel-stained. Their faces tanned from the sun, and dirt was on their pants. Yet Sahshir regarded this as a mark of pride, at least in comparison to these pigs.


    And there was the Emperor, clad in, was that a diamond waistcoat?! How had no one killed all these people?!


    Oh, and Atria was looking down at them. Sahshir felt to one knee in a demonstration of respect that was entirely hollow. Nagos did more, prostrating himself, as scornful eyes gazed at him."So, I''m told you have won a great victory with no army," said Catria, faint scorn in her voice. She clearly held him in little respect.


    "Well, not exactly," said Sahshir. "But we have set the stage. Show him, Nagos."


    Nagos arose and moved past Atria to offered two scrolls to him directly. Catria looked at him, frozen in horror. "How dare-"


    "What are these?" asked the Emperor.


    "Pledges of support from two of the most influential Pirate Kings in the Islands of Power," said Nagos. "They have agreed to send help on my behalf. All they ask in return is a fair share of any booty taken."


    "Would you explain to me why a ragtag collection of pirates will be of any help to our glorious fleet?" asked Atria.


    "Alcaides and Asrif know these islands better than anyone in the entire world," said Nagos. "The one who controls both of them will be able to move throughout the Islands of Power undetected.


    "They only thing stopping those two from ruling these islands is each other. Now they''ve united under your banner."


    "This news seems to be good enough." said the Emperor. "I''ve already received news that the fleets of Kaltak and Dinis bloodied our enemies. If they bring their fleets to us, Sorn should fall with ease."


    "Well, that''s the problem," said Nagos. "Sorn has this mercenary named Garrick, and we found him conjuring up a powerful storm. We probably shouldn''t combine our fleets all into one bulk group. Otherwise, he might manage to send another storm first."


    Catria moved forward, but the Emperor raised a hand. She halted shuddering. "Then what do you suggest?"


    "Let me bring Chaminus'' fleets, small though they are, to Macshore," said Nagos. "We''ll bolster it with a small core of vessels from your own fleet. If we can but reach Macshore, we can establish defenses. We might make them strong enough to ensure Sorn could hammer at us for months without effect.


    "Sorn will know that this will happen, so they will have to halt us. And here is where our pirate friends may be of help. If they engage us ship to ship, then we can simply draw them off, while the pirates raid their islands. If they do not engage us, we may fortify the island and make it impregnable.


    "And if they have another storm, they will use it on our vanguard.


    "Magic is hard to conjure up like that, and I doubt they''ll be able to call on another."


    "And who will command this, valiant fleet?" asked the Emperor.


    "I''ll lead it personally, of course," said Nagos. "I am the King of Chaminus, so it''s only right that I ought to ensure your safety."


    "What if this plan of your should fail?" asked the Emperor. "And, your fleet is destroyed?"


    "Well then, Sorn will have wasted a lot of manpower on a mere vanguard," said Nagos. "By then, the Kalthakian ships will have arrived. There you may join with them to make a final strike on the weakened Sornian military."


    The Emperor looked to his surrounding courtiers. "...Would that all men had such courage. Ask anything of me, and it shall be yours?"


    Nagos looked around. "I''m told there was a musician here who made a mess of things. In truth, I keep him around more out of pity, as I doubt he''d find work elsewhere."


    "Yes, I know of him." said the Emperor. "He dishonored my company with his spectacle."


    "I''d like permission to have him healed of his injuries," said Nagos. "No doubt, the pain has taught the lesson you intended. It will demonstrate the Emperor''s mercy, as well as his justice."


    The Emperor nodded. "So be it. It shall be so. Send my finest physician to ensure he makes a full recovery. Now, will you join us for our feast?"


    Several of the courtiers looked to be almost fainting. Despite himself. Sahshir wondered if there was not more to the Emperor than there appeared. Nagos bowed his head. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure. However, there is a matter that I believe may interest you. It should be spoken of outside the ears of all save the most trusted of your advisors."


    The Emperor nodded. "Very well then, lead on."


    "Perhaps you should let me see whatever trifle he has, Octavus," said Catria, voice concerned.


    "Mother, you must see to it that the festivities continue," said Octavus, looking at her firmly. "What is this device?"


    "It is a weapon known as the steam cannon," said Nagos. "No doubt you have been told of it." So he was pretending to not know what it is.


    "No," said Octavus, glancing at Aria. "This is the first I have."


    "It may well win us the war," said Nagos. "I would gladly give you a demonstration if you will follow me."


    "Then lead on," said Octavus.


    What was Nagos getting at, here? This was like no revenge plan Sahshir had seen in his life. Nagos led the Emperor away from the court, alongside his guards. Soon they came into a high hall, with many strange instruments within it. At the far end, however, there was only one instrument. A long tube of bronze, pointing toward a suit of armor.


    Sahshir, however, was not allowed within. So he halted outside and listened.


    "What is this place?" asked Octavus.


    "This is a room for experiments," said Nagos. "We''ve built quite a few things for. But this is what I''ll show you."


    "What is this?" asked Octavus.


    "It is known as a steam cannon. You should step away from this," said Nagos. From there, he began his preparations, taking a small sphere, and filling a cup of water. Several other changes were made, and then Nagos lit a match. "You light a fire here, and it boils the water. The water then gradually builds up within the canon until-"


    Then there was an earthshaking bang! The soldiers rushed in, and Sahshir followed. The tube was smoking, and the armor was in shattered pieces. Octavus was looking on with an unpleasant smile. "Marvelous. Such a dent in armor would kill a man."


    "This is only a very small canon," said Nagos. "It would be possible to make them far larger. And the larger they were made, the more destructive they could become. In fact, I''ve already outfitted my fleet with them."


    "Did you design this device?" asked Octavus.


    "No, no, it was a close confidant of mine named Serna," said Nagos. "At the moment, she is performing some business. She wants the pirates to understand their orders."


    "Should that not have been my task?" asked Octavus.


    "Well, they can''t really follow orders like a disciplined army," said Nagos. "They are better used if you direct them in a general area.


    "They know me, and they believe me a fool, a puppet of sorts.


    "I let them think that, and so they leave their ears open to me. I suggest things to them, and they come to believe it was their idea in the first place."


    "You are far more cunning than you let on, Nagos," said Octavus.


    "I like to play the fool and be the master," said Nagos, "rather than to play the master and be the fool. Sort of like some of those who claim to control you."


    "Yes, Mother has begun to forget her place at times," said Octavus, looking aside. "However, it would be highly unfortunate if she were removed. I have considered having her join a temple, but there are some who only accept her authority."


    "Then you have to show where the true authority lies," said Nagos. "You have to demonstrate understanding beyond what she believes. Prove yourself to the court, and she will be defeated without you needing to strike a blow."


    "And how would you have me do this?" asked Octavus.


    "Lead the attack yourself," said Nagos.


    Octavus looked up in sudden shock. "Me? Lead the assault?"


    "You are the Son of Safara," said Nagos. "You won''t fall in battle with her favor, especially with your bodyguard. And what could inspire the men of the fleet more than seeing their Emperor leading the charge? You could drive the armies of Sorn back to their shores."


    "Yet, surely it is the part of the common legionary to do so," said Octavus, looking a bit unsteady.


    "Well, yes," said Nagos. "I''m more in favor of staying in the back myself. But, you must have noticed a lack of motivation among the men. They have become disheartened without a true example. Show them your power, and they will follow."


    Octavus considered this and seemed pleased. "Surely, I must remain to command the fleet itself."


    "Your Generals know what they''re doing," said Nagos. "It is the will to victory you need now."Octavus shifted nervously. "... I''d best return to the feast. I must ponder this matter."


    "Of course," said Nagos. "I''d prefer to remain here and set some things to rights. When a ruler is away, things tend to unravel."


    Octavus departed quickly with his guards. Sahshir watched him leave, feeling strange. Nagos had been infuriated earlier. Serna had clearly thought Nagos had some murderous idea in motion. Yet all he''d done was waste a favor to heal a musician, and then convince Octavus to try leading from the front.


    Though Sahshir doubted Octavus would live very long without his bodyguard. "...I don''t understand." Sahshir said, at last.


    "Hmm?" asked Nagos.


    "Why would you help him?" said Sahshir, for help was what it had been. The Dinis fleet could only benefit from having an Emperor interested in leading. "Do you hope he''ll be killed in battle."


    "I figure he needs the credibility," said Nagos with a shrug.


    "Surely, you must desire revenge," said Sahshir.


    Nagos smiled. "You''re the one who said one must obey their Lord and Master?"


    "Yes, but it is an ideal that is not always applicable," said Sahshir. To himself, he admitted that had his liege lord behaved as Octavus, he should have killed him. Cruel and ineffectual leaders did not survive in Kalthak.


    "Well, I guess I could try seeking revenge," admitted Nagos. "But I mean, come on, what kind of weak revenge would stabbing someone be? Especially if I got a bunch of innocent soldiers killed."Better off destroying him in his mind."


    Sahshir caught an edge in that tone. "What do you mean?"


    "Well, think about it this way," said Nagos, making his way up to the armor. "What makes you, you. Armor? The sword on your back? Who you were born to?"


    "My role and duty," said Sahshir. "As a Lord and Samurai, I am defined by my duties."


    "Wrong," said Nagos. "You are defined by your thoughts. How you behave.


    "Let''s say I killed you right now. You''d go on to the afterlife, or your next life, exactly as you are now."


    "Yes, but I don''t see the point," said Sahshir.


    "So you''d still exist," said Nagos. "Me stabbing you through the heart wouldn''t actually get rid of you, it would only move you. Even if the duties you had in your next life were different."


    "I suppose so," said Sahshir.


    "Now imagine if, instead of killing you, I broke you," said Nagos. "If I destroyed everything you believed. Destroyed everything you hoped for. Then substituted something that was more after my own tastes.


    "Wouldn''t that be a far more brutal revenge?"


    "I don''t see how helping Octavus win a great victory counts," noted Sahshir.


    "Right now, he''s thinking about things he has never thought about," said Nagos. "The gears are turning. He is, whether he likes it or not, changing. Yesterday he was a cruel, horrible, vicious puppet. But if he leads the assault and wins a victory, he''ll be something more.


    "If he works to improve himself, he may gain victory. Maybe he''ll become wise. In a few years, he may have no resemblance to his old self.


    "If you change so completely that you can''t be recognized, are you really the same person? Haven''t you, in a sense, killed the person you once were and become the person you are now?"


    "No," said Sahshir flatly. "You are the same person."


    Nagos blinked. "I mean, you''ll be totally different."


    Sahshir shrugged. "You''ve just changed. And what if he does get killed with all his bodyguard? Then your revenge won''t succeed at all, will it?"


    "Well then, he''ll be dead," said Nagos.


    Sahshir had to admit, he made a fair point. "...Good point."


    "I''d better go get the priest," said Nagos.


    Things were unraveling quickly. Sahshir was not sure whether he wanted Octavus to win a great victory or die a miserable death. Was it too much to ask for both? Probably.

 Chapter 239 - Sixteen: A Second Journey

    The next morning, Sahshir found he had overslept in his cabin. He dressed in a hurry, washing his face and shaving. Finding arrangements for apartments in the palace had been trouble enough. The palace was filled with Octavus'' entourage, bustling and speaking in corners. All while turning up their noses at the servants. There was an elaborate gambit pileup going on between officials. It had to do with access to the Queen Mother, and he heard the name Lilas brought it up several times. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Apparently, the merchant had invested heavily in prostitution and become very rich by Zigilus'' fall. That had gotten him the ear of quite a few people. There had also been mentioned something about Dakan, who was dead.


    Sahshir did not care about this at all. If there was a problem with these silken-clad fops, he was sure violence could sort it out. Granted, they could be a threat. But they sneered at and dismissed Nagos'' officials and servants. Which made them idiots.


    While Sahshir was no political expert, Nagos'' people knew the ground. And since the current gambit pileup was taking place on his ground, it were relevant. The dismissive attitude toward Nagos and his people was potentially suicidal.


    They were alive because Nagos was much smarter than they were. And they weren''t worth killing.


    Whatever plan they had, it would probably fall through during the war. The world was not a gameboard, and anyone who thought so was an idiot. The fact that they thought they could control the outcome meant they didn''t stand a chance.


    And then there were some rumors about the Queen being angry her brother could not come with them. Or something along those lines, Sahshir didn''t really care. Although he was an excellent swordsman, he may be missed.


    Not all of them were polite, of course. Some, primarily the lower ranked, we reasonably courteous. Mostly the sort like Marius, though Narcissa still hated him for Zigilus.


    In the end, he''d slept on the ship rather than stay there. So he was when he got down onto the pier, he saw Nagos speaking with his officers.


    The boy ran to meet him. "Sahshir, there you are. We''re just about ready to go."


    Narcissa was sitting at the pier, high heels hanging down and axe propped over her legs. Her blue eyes were gazing out to sea, and her hair was down, blowing in a sea breeze.


    "I don''t like this, Sahshir," said Narcissa. "We ought to wait for Raj to come and help us."


    "Raj could be away for longer than we can wait," said Sahshir. "In any case, I doubt I''d be any help with him, but on Macshore, I may be of some service."


    "Whatever you say," said Narcissa, standing.


    "Right, let''s get to it," said Nagos.


    "Nagos?" blurted Narcissa.


    "Yes?" asked Nagos in turn.


    "What was on those letters you wrote for Serna to take?" asked Narcissa.


    "It was me making suggestions," said Nagos. "Though I hope they won''t realize they were suggestions."


    "What is that supposed to mean?" asked Narcissa.


    "Well, I sort of wrote in such a way that showed my concern," said Nagos. "And also hinted at the best way to go about things without actually saying it outright."


    "Why not just say it immediately," said Sahshir.


    "Because then they wouldn''t do it out of principle," said Nagos.


    The final preparations were made, and the ships moved out of the harbor briskly. Nagos'' vessels were altogether different from what Sahshir was used to. For one thing, they were works of art. They were painstakingly carved with designs of gold dragons and serpents. For another, they had more expansive decks. No doubt to accommodate the devices that Nagos called Steam Cannons. They''d also been set up below deck so that each side of the vessel had eight.


    "Nagos," said Sahshir, "how do you intend to close with the enemy vessels like this?"


    "I''m not," said Nagos. "It''s sort of a strategy." And then he explained how it worked.


    Sahshir had his doubts on the subject as they headed along for the next few days. The weather was good, but the wind started to die down gradually. Eventually, the crew had oar work to go on. Sahshir was able to restore the natural order with the blade, though it took a great deal of work.


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    Even so, their progress was slowed, and it took four days, instead of three, to come within sight of Macshore. It was a flat-looking island, with a vast forest at the center. Looking through a telescope, Sahshir could see that the land dipped further inland. Trees were dispersed throughout the island at set intervals. Between them were farms. Huge numbers of farms were worked by slaves who had chains around their limbs. Some of them were Kalthakian.


    They had been sold like cattle, taken in raids or captured in battle. Sahshir felt disgusted at the idea but kept it to himself. Now was not the time.


    At that moment, Admiral Yin appeared, wearing a blue mask over his armor. All the high-ranking officers in Nagos'' fleet wore masks, except Nagos, who wore no armor. "King Nagos, I''ve just received word from the merfolk. A Sornian Fleet has been spotted heading for it from the opposite side, toward the main port. Unfortunately, at our current pace, we won''t be able to intercept it. "The wind itself seems to have conspired to ensure their victory."


    "We can''t let them land on MacShore," said Sahshir.


    "Actually," said Nagos, "this could work perfectly if I know the Sornians. We''ll wait here out of sight until they land." He motioned to one of the smaller ones. "We''ll wait until they begin their invasion. Knowing them, they''ll want to loot the place."


    "Shouldn''t we seek to prevent that?" asked Sahshir.


    "Nah, if we face them directly, they''ll probably either veer off or go after us smart," said Nagos. "Using the Crescent Moon formation requires the enemy to charge in without thinking. And I know how to get them to do that."


    "Won''t they kill the people in the city?" asked Narcissa.


    "Eh, they''ll want to use them to make their presence legitimate," said Nagos. "And sacking the place completely would wreck the economics. Besides, they''re slaveowners."


    "Why should that make a difference?" asked Sahshir.


    Nagos sighed. "We have a religious bias against slavery in Chaminus. Anyone who keeps slaves must give them up after getting there or be put to death. Anyway, Yin, get us into position.


    "Send out a ship and try to lure them to us, then get us into position. Have them signal us with fireworks once they get the enemy to pursue. Try to draw off as many as you can from the island."


    Yin nodded and went off, giving commands and sending signals. One of the faster vessels went off while Yin gradually arranged the ships. They formed into the shape of a crescent moon, with their guns facing inward. Soon reports came in of the Sornian Fleet. Nagos paced back and forth, but he seemed more impatient than nervous. Narcissa had a strange look on her face.


    "Merfolk?" asked Narcissa.


    "Oh yeah, see this one time my ship sank, and Serna, and I got taken prisoner by the merfolk as a curiosity," said Nagos. "But I convinced the Fish King that I''d be of more use to them on the surface."


    "How did you do that?" asked Sahshir.


    "With a winning smile and my charming personality," said Nagos, beaming.


    "And?" asked Narcissa.


    "And also, I paid them a lot of money," admitted Nagos. "See, at the time, Serna and I were searching for a lot of buried treasure on a unique island using a map we found. So I asked them to release us onto the island, and we''d get them the treasure.


    "In exchange, they gave us transport back home."


    "So you did all that work for nothing." guessed Narcissa.


    "Not quite," said Nagos. "See, I only agreed to give them all the treasure I found. So, when I located the place the map said the treasure was, I dug while blindfolded.


    "So, it was Serna who found most of the treasure. The only treasure I found was a chest of silver my shovel struck, and that''s what I gave the Fish King."


    "How did he take you cheating him?" asked Sahshir.


    "You don''t really think I''d be stupid enough to cheat a god, do you?" asked Nagos. "No, I said right up front that I only found one chest, and Serna found the rest. Therefore the chest I''d gotten them was all I owed them.


    "That way, if the Fish King disagreed, he could just say so.


    "He let it pass, and I returned later after becoming King to collect the rest."


    "So why are you and the Fish King friends?" asked Narcissa.


    "I gave him half of what I collected as a sign of goodwill," said Nagos. "I figured it would do me more good than the money. He was pleased and offered to give me information on ships in the future, and now we get on excellent.


    "Ah, here we are.


    "Now we wait, I guess."


    "Nagos, you are way too enthusiastic about this," said Narcissa. "We''re going to war. People are going to get killed."


    "Only on the other side, if we play things right," said Nagos.


    "Real war isn''t like that, Nagos," said Narcissa. "There are deaths on both sides. My city was sacked. And another city is being sacked while we wait here!"


    "Serna, I mean, Narcissa, don''t worry," said Nagos. "Standard tactics in ship-to-ship combat is to board the enemy vessel and fight. But we''re not going to board them.


    "My Crescent Moon Formation is not standard tactic.


    "As for the city, we can''t do anything about it until we deal with the enemy ship, so there''s no reason to get worried about it."


    And then there was a crack, and a great explosion shot into the sky. Nagos smiled as it rose high. "The ships are returning." He turned to the men, who stood ready. "Alright, men, listen up! Today will be a day of glory! We will destroy the enemy fleet and win eternal victory for Chaminus and Dinis!" Dead silence followed for a moment. Nagos paused and, evidently, decided to change strategies. "Safara willing, by the end of today, we''ll all be rich!"


    A roar of cheers broke out throughout the entire fleet. Sahshir blinked. "That is not the speech I would have made."


    "Eh, gold is a lot more motivating than country," admitted Nagos. "Forward! Start the war drums! Crescent Moon Formation!"


    "You realize that only a few of your ships can hear you, don''t you?" said Sahshir as the drums began. And the ships remained in the formation. "And they are already forming them."


    "Let me enjoy the moment," said Nagos in irritation before walking to the ship''s edge. As the cannon crews stood ready, the lure vessel came back. It shot through the water, and a formation of Sornian ships came behind it. As they saw them, they roared a battle cry and charged forward. The cannon crews made their final preparations as Nagos looked through his spyglass.


    Lowering it, he smiled triumphantly. "There they are."


    Closer and closer came the enemy as Nagos waited. Yin came forward. "All is in place. I pray you were right to leave the Dinis portion of our fleet behind."


    "Are they in range?" asked Nagos as their vessels slipped past.


    "Yes," said Yin.


    Nagos replied by drawing his sword and stepping up onto the bulwark. "All batteries on my mark!" The Sornian fleet was passing into the crossfire. "FIRE!"


    It was like all the lightning and thunder in the world had burst force momentarily. It could not have been more explosive if ten dragons had come roaring down from the sky with fire-belching. A sound like an avalanche roared, and Sahshir found his ears ringing. Nagos fell back, and before Sahshir''s eyes, he saw the Sornian fleets crumble.


    Cannon fire blasted them repeatedly, and each shot shredded part of the ship. Men were ripped to pieces or stabbed with dozens of huge splinters. Masts collapsed, even as Nagos'' vessels moved in to envelop them.


    Slowly Sahshir''s hearing returned, and he watched as an entire fleet was broken. Within moments, several had fallen. Then, even as one barrage of cannons finished, another came in. Sahshir saw Nagos'' men alternate their shots. They moved so quickly, as men who have drilled all their lives.


    The fleet fled, desperately seeking to turn, but it was too late.


    More volleys came in, and these were better aimed. At last, the remnants of the Sornian fleet were reduced to splinters. Not one man had fired an arrow in their own defense. Nor had they been able to turn their fleets around fully to even begin fleeing.


    Massacre could not begin to describe it.


    The screams of the dying, the sight of drowning men in the water.


    It was terrible and awe-inspiring at once. Now Sahshir saw why Chaminus was the home of the heirs of Namina. "Baltoth plan this..."


    "Yes!" cheered Nagos, roars of triumph came from the men. "Did you see that! A whole fleet sunk without a casualty!"


    "People are drowning," said Narcissa.


    "They could have value as hostages," said Yin.


    Nagos sobered at once. "Fair enough. Send out some longboats to take prisoners and see if we can save anyone. Once they''re below decks, we''ll head to McShore and celebrate."


    "King Nagos, MacShore is on fire," said Yin.


    Nagos frowned. "Oh, right. Once they''re below decks, we''ll retake MacShore, and then we''ll celebrate!"


    Sahshir was beginning to see why Serna was afraid of Nagos wrath.

 Chapter 240 - Seventeen: The King of the Seas

    The outer parts of the city were in flames as screams resounded with the clash of swords. The smell of death and smoke swept over them with an errant wind as the sun beat down eternally. The cries of battle resounded, but more so the sounds of breaking timber. The Sornians were landing even now, heedless of the defeat that had just been dealt. You could see their blue uniforms distantly and pikes glinting in the glaring sun.


    So much, the better. Sahshir had been hoping for an opportunity to fight on land without the swaying of a ship. Now, at last, he could do battle in conditions most favorable to him.


    "Look at that," said Nagos with a whistle, leaning over the ship''s prow with interest. "Haven''t seen a town this large in flames before. Asrif always hits smaller targets. I hope the people found somewhere safe." He looked at his men. "Head inward; we''ll strafe the fleet and blast their ships to the waterline!"


    "But that''ll have us firing into the city," said Narcissa, glancing to where the Dinis ships had joined them. "Let me and Sahshir land with our guards; we''ll flank them and finish them off."


    "The enemy outnumbers us," noted Sahshir, though privately, he liked Narcissa''s option better. "In a prolonged engagement, we''ll lose."


    "They are heaping their plunder on those ships, King Nagos," said Yin, peering through a spyglass.


    Nagos took the spyglass and looked through it before a roguish smile came to his face. "Then we''ll steal the treasure ships. But, first, Admiral, take the fleet and keep it hidden here. While you do that, I''ll take this ship and seize them.


    "Once the enemy knows we''re stealing everything they own, they''ll give chase. And you''ll spring the trap."


    "What if they detect and move to engage them?" asked Yin.


    "Then I''ll just draw them back here, and you can spring the trap then," said Sahshir, drawing the Sword of Order. "Either way, we win. The Dinis ships should be used for this."


    "Very well then, King Sahshir," said Yin. "Safara coil around you."


    It was fortunate that whoever was commanding the Magnious fleet was overeager. No one was watching them much when loot and plunder were so close to hand.


    Sahshir frowned as messages were relayed between the ships. As they did, the Dinis vessels got into position, rallying troops and shouting orders. They were obviously preparing for a boarding action. "It is written: Those who are overeager to strike will strike too far," said Sahshir after a moment.


    "Written where?" asked Nagos.


    "In the texts of Baltoth," said Sahshir. "He teaches us that mastery over the world requires more than courage, but perfect control."


    "Yeah, well, their fleet is bigger than ours, so we can''t fight them directly," said Nagos.


    The gangplank was lowered, and Sahshir and Narcissa moved across with their guards. There Sahshir met Marius, who nodded to him. "King Sahshir, you are with us again."


    "Captain Marius, are your men prepared?" asked Sahshir as they set out.


    "We are," said Marius. "When we meet the enemy in battle, they will feel the wrath of Dinis."


    "Good," said Sahshir.


    They said little as the crews sent them sailing out into the open toward the port. As they did, someone called a warning. Evidently, they had finally been noticed, and Sahshir saw men rallying up to the vessels.


    More is needed, however. They had been advancing into the city quickly. Too quickly.


    Soon they went up alongside the treasure ship, and every soldier stood as they closed. At last, they were in range. Sahshir sprang over the gap and landed there. He cleaved a pike in half before cutting the throat of the wielder. As the gangplank was set down, he parried a strike and cleaved another man. Then, twisting away from a sword, he cleaved the legs out of a man and then finished him. Rolling forward to evade a stroke, he turned and slashed a man through the heart.


    Then he was surrounded and fighting for his life near the treasures. He ducked under an axe blow and ran the man through but found others hemming him in. Soon he''d be overwhelmed if nothing was done. Then came the horn call. Suddenly, the legions were streaming across the plank and attacking Sorn from behind. Narcissa cleaved down two men with one strike, shattering their shields. Finally, Marius and his men smashed through them, and the battle began.


    Sahshir saw battles raging across the Sornian Fleet as he drove his sword through a man. Dinis had boarded several vessels, but not all were so poorly defended. There was Garrick, his massive blade cutting through shield and armor alike. None who came before he lived, and soon a counterattack was being waged against the borders.


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    "For Calisha!" called Sahshir, cleaving down an officer.


    "For Zigildrazia!" cried Narcissa as she cut a man in two.


    "For the Serpent!" cried Marius and his men.


    At last, the enemy had fled or been killed. Similar scenes were playing out across the decks of the ships. Garrick had seized and sailed a vessel to join the battle on another boat. Another Sornian ship had driven the attackers off at a high cost. But by and large, they had gained the victory.


    Marius raised a horn to his lips and blew it as sailors took charge of the treasure fleet. "Prepare to withdraw! Pull back at once!" called Marius. "We have our prize."


    And so it went, the ships being pulled from the port, not all, but enough to draw attention. They had lost a few ships, but Sorn had suffered worse. The word that the plunder they had gathered was stolen had spread by now. A mass exodus was being done by the Sornians, remanning their ships and coming after them. Horns were blown, and attempts were made to make an orderly formation, but they were beyond reason.


    A ragged formation rushed after them, heedless of caution, into the range of the crescent moon. Nagos'' ships came round the bend and cut between the Dinis fleet and their enemies. And then came the cannon fire. The flash of the guns was blinding if you looked at it; the sound of them was deafening, so your ears went ringing with it. Nagos could be seen walking among his men and making his presence known. Men were torn apart by the metal balls on the Sornian ships. Their comrades fired back with ballista and bows, and several men on deck fell to the arrows.


    Nagos motioned to healers, who rushed forward to treat them at once. Another volley was loaded and shot as an arrow lodged in a shield near Nagos. He looked at it with interest before drawing a ceremonial sword and raising it.


    It was too late.


    Sahshir did not get a good look at what happened; too many vessels were in his way. But he heard the neverending pounding of guns goes on for far longer. The sound of splintering wood was everywhere. And the screams of the dying could have drowned out the cries of the damned in hell. Smoke rose like a demon, ever higher, as husbands, sons, fathers, and brothers were slain en masse.


    When Sahshir came aboard the flagship, he saw the legions and men of Chaminus commiserate. Yet, as he watched, he felt genuinely miserable. Although he understood the need, this form of war was... distasteful.


    Battles ought to be contests of skill, of steel on steel, or arrows against arrows. But these guns had turned it into a massacre. He knew that Nagos'' men constantly drilled under Admiral Yin. But what bothered him was that it didn''t matter how skilled their enemies were. They were lambs to the slaughter.


    Nagos was a chillingly effective leader, however affable he might be. It was quite clear that he had been raised by pirates now. He had seen death and blood and knew how to deal with it, even if not by his hands. Sahshir went up to him now as things calmed down, picking his way over the gangplank and bodies. Narcissa was cleaning her leather armor at the same time.


    "How did you know they''d pursue?" asked Narcissa, curious.


    "Soldiers don''t care about nations and gods," said Nagos with a shrug. "Even if they think they do. They want to get rich. So Sorn has a standard procedure where all the loot is piled in one place and then evenly distributed. Extra rewards are handed out according to personal valor.


    "We''d taken everything they''ve won by stealing the ships."


    Sahshir looked to the distance and noted that not all Sornians had fallen into the trap. Some were drawing back to the island, who had been wise enough not to attack.


    "Let us pursue and destroy those," said Marius.


    "No, let them go!" said Sahshir quickly. "Order the ships to let them go!"


    "What, why?" asked Nagos.


    "If we trap the Sornians on the island, they''ll burn the place to the ground," said Sahshir. "We''ve got to give them an avenue of escape."


    Nagos shrugged. "Sure, whatever you want. I guess we could save the slavers'' lives. They are people, I guess."


    Marius looked faintly offended by this, but he said nothing. Sahshir did not blame him. What did Nagos have against slavers anyway? It would be best not to bring it up here, however.


    Even as it happened, Sahshir saw vast crowds of soldiers rushing up to try and leap into the ships. There were too few to be taken away. Through the spyglass, Sahshir saw Garrick calmly take his men off the vessel. He spoke quickly to them, and they headed into the city. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The vessels were drawing off, and as Sahshir and company landed, they faded into the distance. Then, leaping onto the pier, he led the men into the city. At the same time, Nagos sent many of his ships to act as a rearguard. So Nagos was with the attack, holding his sword forward as he advanced. Slightly behind heavily armed guards, of course.


    They did not meet resistance.


    Nor did they meet many bodies. Instead, the further they went, the more signs of looting they found alongside many living people. There were a few armed bodies around, possibly local militia. Yet there wasn''t any sign of a serious scuffle.


    By all accounts, Sorn walked in.


    And now they were walking out.


    Their path soon led them to the outer wall, facing the island. What fool would build fortifications only on the interior? Invaders from the sea were the principal threat. Scaling to the top of the wall, they saw Garrick leading his forces inland. They carried no gold or jewels but more significant numbers of practical supplies. Bags of flour, and tools, many of which looked to have been looted from the city. They were heading into the swamp.


    What was the man thinking?


    It hardly mattered; the men were too tired to pursue. Nagos moved to the back of the wall and looked down on them from above. Why were there crenelations on the back? Who would besiege them from within?


    "Victory!" called Nagos to his assembled forces. "We have victory!"


    "Hail Nagos, King of the Seas!" called someone.


    "HAIL THE KING OF THE SEAS!" called the men of Dinis and Chaminus alike. "HAIL! HAIL! HAIL!"


    It was a strange moment. As Nagos heard the title spoken, though his posture did not change, his face was struck with horror for a moment. He shuddered and looked around at the flames before looking at Sahshir. "Get a fire brigade together; we''ve got to put those out. Now!"


    It was the first time Sahshir had seen Nagos afraid of anything. And he was terrified. Sahshir got the fire brigade. As he did, he wondered what had possessed his friend to make his hour of glory like poison.

 Chapter 241 - Eighteen: Greetings by Two Masters

    Even as Nagos organized the fire brigade to combat the flames that had taken hold of part of the city, he looked pale. His gaze kept looking to the sea as if expecting some unfathomable horror to rise from it. Sahshir became concerned for him and wondered if some enemy had been heralded by the words. As the flames gradually died down and the wounded were tended to, Sahshir opted to confront him.


    "Why are you afraid of the title they gave you?" asked Sahshir.


    "It''s nothing, just..." Nagos shuddered. "Well, one of the titles that the Fish King goes by when he takes direct mortal form is ''King of the Seas.'' So I''m kind of afraid he''ll take offense."


    "There''s more to this than that, isn''t there?" asked Sahshir. Nagos did not seem one to fear divine retribution for a name.


    "Yes, but I''m not talking about it," said Nagos.


    "As you wish," said Sahshir.


    "Do you believe in destiny?" asked Nagos suddenly.


    "Destiny is a fact, Nagos," said Sahshir flatly. "The Goddess of Weaving, Rioletta, also weaves the threads of fate."


    "Yes, but do you believe you can defy it?" asked Nagos.


    "It is irrelevant," said Sahshir. "If fate can be defied, you may do so without obsessing over it. If it cannot, then there is no point in thinking of it."


    Then Narcissa appeared, having broken off from them during the fighting. "Nagos, the garrison commander, wishes to speak with you."


    Nagos nodded. "Let him through."


    The garrison commander, a lean man with long, white hair, came up the steps. He did not bow, which Sahshir found offensive, and given his poor performance, he ought to have been hung. But bringing the matter up was of no real help. "King Nagos, King Sahshir, your arrival was timely; I am Romilin Aukas, the governor. May I ask your purpose here?"


    "We have been dispatched as the vanguard of the Emperor," said Sahshir. "We are but the first wave of this army."


    "It seems the first wave has been enough," noted Romilin.


    "It doesn''t matter," said Sahshir. "Where are your militia? Why did they yield the city so quickly?"


    "My men are not used to facing professional soldiers," admitted Romilin. "The militia is meant to crush slave revolts and keep order."


    "What about the legions?" asked Nagos. "Shouldn''t there be some here?"


    "They..." Romilin paused. "The legions were withdrawn some months ago, to be honest. With all the fighting around Zigilus, they were drawn back to the mainland. They never came back."


    "Well," said Sahshir, "we are here now. All preparations must be made to deal with the remaining Sornian forces. They forced their way out the gate without a fight and fled into the marshes."


    "Surely they''ll die of diseases there," said Nagos.


    "They are half-Harlenorian at least," said Sahshir flatly. "Laevian may favor them. If so, she will draw her diseases away.


    "Baltoth warns that a defeated enemy may still slay the unaware."


    Nagos paused, looking a little uncomfortable as all eyes turned to him. "Sahshir, Narcissa, keep watch at the gates. I''ll see to organizing the fire brigade. We can save some material worth having.


    "I will assist you in this, King Nagos," said Romilin.


    "We''ll focus on releasing slaves first," said Nagos.


    "You want to free the slaves?" asked Romilin in horror.


    "We''ll give them back to you once this is over and compensate you for the damages," said Nagos. "For now, we need to stop the fire. The extra manpower will help a lot. Now grab a bucket; we need you.


    "Sahshir, you''re in charge, I guess."


    And he rushed off like a man pursued by the hells themselves. Sahshir began to wonder if Nagos fear was not so much cosmic horror, as a desire to avoid responsibility. So long as he was on an adventure where he could duck out at any time, Nagos seemed happy. However, now he was being given a position of authority. One that didn''t involve adventures.


    "Nagos just leveled two fleets twice the size of the one we fought with hardly a casualty," said Narcissa. "And now he looks afraid of a little fire."


    "He likes dodging responsibility." guessed Sahshir. "While with the fleet, he only had to make a few decisions and could be on the high seas. Far preferable to running Chaminus."


    "He didn''t seem like a bad king," noted Narcissa.


    "His method is to be personable." mused Sahshir. "Appear as a man who just so happens to have the position of King. Then, using it, he decides, but he would much rather not have to.


    "This place presents him with problems that cannot be solved so easily. I expect he will find a reason to return to sinking Sornian vessels soon."


    "That''s a bit harsh," said Narcissa.


    "It is probably for the best," said Sahshir. "What do you think of this, Narcissa?"


    "The battle?" asked Narcissa. It was more than a victory.


    "No, I mean, all the slaves," said Sahshir, remembering the sight of men in chains.


    Narcissa blinked in surprise as if it had never occurred to her. "Slaves belong to their masters. The masters may do as they please with them."


    "We don''t practice slavery in Kalthak for a reason," said Sahshir. "Our warriors may sell some into the markets of the Medi. But it is illegal to keep them in our land."


    "Why?" asked Narcissa.


    "Men belong to themselves and Baltoth alone," said Sahshir. "To claim ownership over a mortal is to dispute Baltoth''s authority."


    "Aren''t the Medi active practitioners of slavery?" asked Narcissa. "I read about them."


    "It is a crime," said Sahshir. "Baltoth''s allows some crimes and uses those in pursuit of perfect order."


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    "I don''t really care about slavery," admitted Narcissa.


    Sahshir looked at her flatly. "You''re joking." So the transformation of men into chattel was meaningless to her?


    "I belong to Zigildrazia, as do all our people," said Narcissa. "Why do you think we blame Dinis for what they did and not her? We are hers and are hers to do with as she wills. It''s the same with slaves and their masters."


    "Do you hold no value of your own people?" asked Sahshir, remembering the vacant gaze of her countrymen. Like their souls had been suppressed.


    "Nothing that would make me work against Zigildrazia," said Narcissa. "You''re a devout follower of Baltoth. If he told you to die, you would, wouldn''t you?"


    "Yes," admitted Sahshir. "But I would trust that it would be in pursuit of perfect order. What great cause would Zigildrazia seek?"


    "Her own entertainment, I suppose," said Narcissa as if that was a satisfactory answer. Though even she didn''t fully believe it, Sahshir could tell by her voice.


    Looking up, he saw the flames dying out. "The fire is dying down, isn''t it?"


    And then Sahshir felt something.


    It was like what they had felt in the cave, only stronger. Sahshir set his hand to his sword. Narcissa did the same for her axe. "Something is wrong."


    A black cloud emerged from the earth, growing larger and larger to encompass the wall. Sahshir drew his sword as he felt the curse of hatred.


    "Demons," said Narcissa.


    "More than that, Narcissa." said a familiar tone.


    Sahshir raised the sword of order, channeling the power to break the spell. The clouds parted, and Garacel stood before them. His black skin could hardly be seen beneath his armor, and the Blade of Chaos was at his side.


    "Master Garacel," said Narcissa.


    "You," said Sahshir.


    Sahshir calculated that a direct confrontation could result in a loss. However, with Narcissa as an unknown element and no power from Baltoth, it would not be wise to battle here. And Garacel was here to talk, wasn''t he? "Speak your peace, Garacel. We both know the terms of our arrangement."


    "In truth, I''ve come to thank you," said Garacel. "Releasing the spirit of hatred into the world has given me a chance I need to attain a domain in my own right."


    "You will never attain any divine rank, Garacel," said Sahshir simply.


    "I already am," said Garacel. "my plans are in motion as we speak. Which is why I''ve come to deliver a warning to you. Leave this island at once."


    "Why?" asked Sahshir.


    "The atrocities committed by those here will soon return to them," said Garacel. "Generations of rage long-suppressed will soon be unleashed.


    "When all is finished, none shall remain here save those who bore the yolk of slavery."


    "You will achieve nothing while I draw breath," said Sahshir. He would not allow another Zigilus.


    "That is your own decision," said Garacel. "You may remain and witness the destruction if you so choose."


    His hawk wings beat, and he soared upward, vanishing from sight.


    The cloud of hatred vanished.


    Narcissa lowered her axe as Sahshir released his sword. Turning, he saw Marius and some of his men climbing the steps. They had drawn swords in their hands and looked grim. Halting, they looked around.


    "Sahshir, what happened?" asked Marius. "I felt a presence that was familiar."


    "Garacel has returned," said Sahshir. "We''ll have to deal with more than just Sorn."


    Narcissa paused. "Not an enemy of mine, Sahshir. We might be able to reason with Master Garacel-"


    "He speaks of using the hatred of this island to destroy everyone. Or everyone who does not now wear the yolk of slavery, at least," said Sahshir flatly. "Negotiation is not an option unless you want to abandon this place." S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "He''ll start a slave revolt," guessed Marius.


    Sahshir blinked and considered that it made sense. But he was surprised that Marius had come to a conclusion so quickly.


    "You do not know that," said Narcissa, as if the suggestion was a mortal sin.


    "I''ve read my histories," said Marius. "My Father, Cato, fought a Kalthakian invasion in his youth. One of the things they did was free the slaves that worked our lands in the hopes that they''d bolster their forces.


    "Some harsher masters were killed, but my family had its slaves remain true.


    "Afterward, we had laws about the proper treatment of slaves. To ensure a repeat incident did not happen, obviously. Though they are only for my home province."


    "He''ll make contact with Garrick in the wilds, start freeing slaves and training them in war." guessed Sahshir. "Then he''ll start launching larger raids.


    "That''ll probably cause the planters to get paranoid and start all kinds of atrocities. Which will inspire lots of hatred, I think. Perhaps that is how he intends to prove worthy of godhood. In the meantime, Sorn might send another fleet, and Dinis won''t sit it out. There will be hate and murder."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Narcissa.


    "That''s what I would do," said Sahshir.


    "So what should our next course of action be?" asked Marius.


    "We''ll need to secure the island for now." mused Sahshir. "The rest can wait."


    "We do not know this island," said Marius. "We will need local guides. And even with them, we lack the manpower to cover it."


    "Then we shall send out an order that the plantations must make some of their men available for the militia." mused Sahshir. "They would need many of them to enforce their hold on so many slaves."


    "That will not go over well with them," said Marius.


    "Why?" asked Sahshir.


    "Plantation owners in Macshore live in perpetual terror of a slave revolt," said Marius. "They won''t want to give up even one man to fight with us. Our legionnaire marines number perhaps a thousand. With your own men, we have more.


    "It will be difficult winning if Sorn can gain reinforcements or drag the conflict out. Men here become sick."


    "How unfortunate for them," said Sahshir flatly.


    And then Nagos came back. He looked a little less afraid than before and was putting on a confident face. "Alright, the fires have been doused. We also managed to save a decent number of supplies as well.


    "We''ve also been trying to sort out which part of the treasure ship belongs to who."


    "I don''t suppose we could just take it all for ourselves?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    "That''d be stealing," said Narcissa.


    "No, it would be plunder," said Marius. "The Sornians stole it from them. Now we have stolen it from the Sornians in a fair battle. So it has changed owners twice."


    "Yeah, but everybody knows it belonged to Macshore." said Nagos. It probably wouldn''t go over well if we took it for ourselves. So I figure we ought to hand it all back, be neighborly, you know." He paused. "On a separate note, Sahshir, Narcissa, Marius, I need you to take over for me."


    "What?" asked Marius. "Why?"


    "I''m not going to be any good here, so I''m heading back to the fleet," said Nagos. "I''m going to see if I can sink more enemy ships. That way, I can keep Sorn off your backs and do some damage."


    "As I predicted," said Sahshir to Narcissa, who hmphed in irritation.


    "You''re leaving," asked Marius.


    "Sure," said Nagos. "We''re still at war with Sorn. My ships will be of far more use sinking Sornian fleets than having my crews scouring the island."


    "That will cut down our manpower significantly," noted Marius.


    Nagos snapped. "Alright, look, I don''t want to defend these people. I stopped here on a ship once and explored the place a bit and...


    "Well, what I saw will haunt me.


    "I don''t want to fight to defend this place, especially from former friends. Unfortunately, there are people from Chaminus wearing those collars. So I''m going to go do my duty someplace else."


    "Nagos is right, in any case," said Sahshir.


    "Sahshir?" asked Nagos, blinking.


    "A ship in the harbor is doing no one any good," said Sahshir. "And clustered here opens them for a fireship. He''ll do more damage to Sorn on patrol."


    "Right, I''ll be back in a few weeks," said Nagos. "Tell me how things go when I return."


    And he moved off at a jog.


    "Well, he was in a hurry," noted Narcissa. "Why would he hate this place so much?"


    "King Nagos does not seem to stay focused on any one thing at a time," said Marius in bemusement.


    "He certainly seems good at achieving things in a limited time," said Sahshir. "Come, Marius, let''s make preparations for our search."


    Narcissa walked off. "Do whatever you want, Sahshir."


    Sahshir noted the bitterness in her tone and followed her to the broken gates. "Where are you going?"


    "To speak with Master Garacel. And hunt Garrick," said Narcissa.


    Sahshir remained silent for a moment, considering things. "Very well, then. But return within the week."


    Narcissa nodded and moved off. Marius stepped after her, but Sahshir caught him by the shoulder. "Let her go, Marius. She is bound to me; should we be destroyed, so will her people. Narcissa will not betray us."


    Marius faltered. "If you believe so, Sahshir." And so they set about their own tasks. The die, so to speak, was cast.

 Chapter 242 - Nineteen: The Plantation

    Days later, and after much work, the die had not yet fallen.


    Sahshir had spent the time since Nagos had left improving the defenses. The harbor was secured with towers and a chain across it. Meanwhile, Marius began drilling the militia properly and rebuilding the towns. He had nothing but unkind things to say about their state in private.


    Though they softened his words when speaking to figures of authority.


    Messages were sent out to every plantation, the fastest runners. Others were sent by boat to land near them. Romilus assured them that it was only half a day to the nearest plantation, at the least.


    "Why so spread out?" Sahshir had asked him.


    "Well, the landowners control most of it," said Romilus. "We don''t have the same small farms you''d see in Dinis. So much of the land around this town belongs to them.


    "There are some tenants, of course, but they don''t control the land. Merely take care of things we don''t trust to the slaves."


    And that had left them waiting. And waiting.


    Sahshir despised waiting. He far preferred to attack problems directly. But the scouts dispatched into the wilds to find Garrick had yet to bring anything. Moreover, Narcissa was nowhere to be found, and Sahshir doubted she''d be of much help in any of this in the first place.


    What he really feared was an alliance between Garrick and Garacel. If the two combined their efforts, they could both raise and train an army of their own. It would be one that outnumbered Sahshir''s own forces by ten to one.


    "Where are they?" Sahshir hissed one day after a day of settling disputes and easing tensions.


    "The messengers ought to have returned by now with the replies," said Romilus. "Perhaps they have been intercepted."


    "Don''t be absurd," said Sahshir. "Garrick and Garacel could not have caught all of them at once. Is it possible the planters are deliberately delaying?"


    "They may be considering their reply," said Romilus.


    "Considering their..." Sahshir checked himself, greatly desiring to slash something. "I gave an order by the authority vested in me from the Emperor. I told them we needed men for the militia. If the situation was so bad that they could not spare any, they should have sent back a flat refusal." He turned around. "Dozens of planters. Hundreds of freemen. Thousands of slaves.


    "And apparently, not one of them has any sense."


    "They may not understand the need," said Romilus. "Most battles between nations leave Macshore intact so as not to destroy the profits-"


    "Garacel doesn''t care about profits," said Sahshir. "He wants to win. And he is willing to utterly and completely annihilate his own holdings to do so. So if sending this entire island to the grave is the best means of gaining victory, he will do it."


    "It may be wise to explain that to them directly, then," said Romilus. "Remember, you are a Kalthakian. One of the... well... one of those races from which many of our slaves come. These men prefer to avoid being told what to do with their resources at the best of times. They resent taxes from Dinis, as well as everything else we order.


    "That such an order has come from you... well... it may have been considered some form of conspiracy."


    "If I wanted to free their slaves, I would march up to their plantations and kill them all." snapped Sahshr. "I need no conspiracy to destroy a nation populated entirely by people who hate it.


    "I will ensure they understand that when I draft their men for military service. Munrus of Antrus is the closest, is it not?"


    "Yes," said Romilus. "He''s one of the larger ones, and his family has been here since MacShore was taken from Sorn.


    "Actually, before that. Many of the plantation-owning families have seen several different nations. They have their own cultural identity, and many have spoken of independence. They don''t like taxes."


    Sahshir stared at him. That was funny.


    Then it happened. Before he knew what was happening, he began to laugh. He shook physically as he thought of these men staging a revolution. Romilus blinked as he looked at them, and Sahshir realized his body was in pain.


    It was becoming quite agonizing, and that stopped it.


    For the most part.


    "Is something funny, King Sahshir?" asked Romilus.


    "The idea of a revolution by this island," said Sahshir. "You have an upper class who owns all the land and keeps the freeman entirely in their power. Meaning there is no means by which a freeman may improve his lot.


    "So if such a revolution succeeded, the freemen would immediately try to kill all the rich. They''d want to take their lands. With no legions to call on from outside, there would be no means to keep the social order intact. Meanwhile, the vast majority of the population hates the rest of it with a fiery passion. Given a chance, they would murder everyone involved to take the land for themselves.


    "With extreme acts of terror, perhaps you could keep the lower classes in line. But only until a new nation came along, killed everyone, and created their own plantations."


    "I think you overestimate the slaves," said Romilus. "You see, they hardly understand orders. Often they feign illness to get out of work. They are a lazy and stupid race."


    "Do I look lazy and stupid to you?" asked Sahshir, not amused.


    Romilus froze. "I... I meant no offense to you, but surely..."


    "Every race in the universe can be both a terrible enemy and a steadfast friend," said Sahshir. "Do not underestimate our enemy. If I were a slave, forced to labor for a master I despised, I might feign stupidity. By doing so, I could hurt him without fear of punishment. Wouldn''t you?"


    Romilus shuddered with the look of one who noticed a terror he had ignored for years. "I am certain Munrus will understand our plight. Just be wary, it is harvest time, and tempers tend to flare."


    "I''ll be certain to be cordial, of course," said Sahshir.


    Even so, he hardly felt cordial as he strode down the road with his guards. Marius came as well, marching alongside a portion of his forces. It was only a short time before they came to the fields, where even now, people were working in chains. There were satyrs, dwarves, humans, and even some elves.


    "Move at it, satyr!" snarled a taskmaster, cracking a whip. "If these aren''t done by the end of the day, I may decide you''re not worth the food you eat!


    "Get at it!"


    One man staggered and fell, obviously exhausted. The taskmaster moved forward, raising a whip. "You, get on your feet before I crush ''em!"


    The old man staggered up and moved on.


    "Another glorious foe of Dinis vanquished, farmer?" asked Sahshir.


    "Enforcer, actually." said the man quickly. "My job is to keep this lot working so they don''t have time to plan anything. So who are you folk coming down here?"


    Sahshir supposed he should be glad he was not dismissed for his race. Perhaps it was the weapons. Though it was, Marius came forward. "I am Captain Marius of the X Dinis Legion. With me is our ally, King Abdul Sahshir of Kalthak. We are here about the levees. A message was sent; did you receive it."


    "Well, I did see a messenger ride down here." said the man. "Didn''t say anything to me, just moved to the big house. Then he headed back.


    "Might have been shot. There are gangs of escaped slaves that live in the wilderness. We''ve been trying to wipe the bastards out for years, but, well, there are always more defiant ones to fuel them.


    "I remember once we caught near the entire gang and crucified them along that roadway.


    Course, one escaped, that devil Bas. And he went and started things all over again."


    "My sympathies," said Marius far too easily. "Where is your master? I would speak with-"


    "Abdul, Abdul, is that you?" came a cry.


    Abdul looked up and saw an old man with white hair. Had the hair been black, it would have looked like someone he''d known when young. Was that... Aresif?


    "Quiet you, we''ve heard enough from-" began the man.


    "Stay your whip, taskmaster," said Sahshir, coming forward. "Aresif? The storyteller. How did you come to be here? I thought you were killed by pirates."


    "I was taken as a slave and sold here," said Aresif, his skin scarred and body tanned from the sun. "Please, Sahshir, for the love of your father, set me free."


    Sahshir felt nothing at seeing him, though he knew he should. He had an obligation to him and nodded. "I will see to the matter personally. You, I would buy this slave''s freedom. Unchain him."


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    "You want me to-" began the taskmaster.


    "How much?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    "He cost us thirty silver." said the taskmaster, voice hostile.


    "You''re a liar," said Sahshir, who''d kept abreast of prices. "Aresif disappeared five years ago and was just another slave to you then. How quickly you seem to recall a price well above anything reasonable."


    "Enough," said Marius quickly. "We have no more time for this. We will take the man as payment for being forced to come here. Open the chains, or we''ll break them."


    The taskmaster eyed them. He was aware that they could quickly chop him into tiny pieces. "Whatever you say."


    The chains were unlocked, and Aresif came forward. Sahshir offered him some water, and as he did, he saw other Kalthakians crying out to him. He could not free them all, not now. For a moment, he looked at them, then away.


    "Thank you, Sahshir," said Aresif, clasping his hand. Then he saw the ring on it, one Sahshir hardly thought about. "You have become a King? Is Aresh then dead?"


    "In a manner of speaking," said Sahshir, wondering how the man had recognized him.


    "Why do you go masked?" asked Aresif. "Has the curse..."


    "Yes," said Sahshir, helping him up. "I do not have much longer."


    "I''m sorry," said Aresif arose. "Though I expect I won''t last much longer either. Did you ever marry or have children?"


    "My uncle will succeed me," said Sahshir.


    "Well, at least you wear the ring of rulership," said Aresif.


    They journeyed on, and Aresif walked with them, asking many questions. "How fairs Kalthak?"


    "I am more concerned for you," said Sahshir, reflecting that Aresif''s understanding of the slaves'' plight could be useful. "What kind of man is the master of this place?"


    "I don''t know, I''ve never seen him," admitted Aresif. "I work day and night to harvest his sugarcane. I''m the only one of my generation left alive. Though, it''s better than the sugar plantations."


    "Why?" asked Sahshir.


    "They don''t feed you at the sugar plantations," said Aresif. "Slaves die so quickly from what goes on there that it isn''t worth the money. They just work them to death. The owner of this area doesn''t do sugar; he prefers to sell food."


    "What do you mean that you''re the last of your generation?" asked Marius.


    "Yes, the slaves imported in my shipment," said Aresif. "They work us until we break, but this old man does not intend to satisfy them.


    "House slaves have a better lot, provided they don''t anger their master.


    "But I don''t know his nature."


    "We had best be silent," said Sahshir. "We''re approaching the manor."


    And silent, they went.


    When they finally arrived, they found that the main building on the plantation was a huge manor. Oddly enough, there was only one door. The lower walls were of stone, but the woodwork was fairly elaborate. Sahshir wondered how it had been built, even as he slowed to walk behind Marius.


    Out of doors came a man, fat in the stomach but not without muscle. He had a mustache, a sharp contrast to the clean-shaven men of Dinis. With him were men with spears, though they wore no uniform. The man, Munrus, Sahshir presumed, bowed quickly. "A Captain of the Legionnaires here? I am Munrus, the owner of this plantation. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"


    "A matter of great importance," said Marius. "Messengers were sent to call up a levy of able-bodied men in order to defend against Sorn.


    "Yet none have arrived from you or the other planters."


    Munrus immediately went silent. "I see.


    "We will do no such thing."


    "You mistake an order for a request," said Marius.


    Munrus shifted under Marius'' gaze, then looked to the fields where slaves were looking on. "If I follow that order, this whole plantation will collapse in on itself!" he said in a low tone. "Why should I sacrifice even a day''s profit so you legionnaires can laze about? I need these men to keep control of the slaves. If I send them away, the slaves will start plotting against us.


    "They''re always scheming something in their slave tongue. So you''ll have an army of slaves rising up as soon as you defeat the Sornians."


    "Slave tongue?" asked Marius.


    "A mixture of the races," said the man. "We tried forcing the animals to room with those they didn''t speak the language of, but they''ve figured one out."


    Marius looked disturbed at this. "Surely they are men like you are or I. Even if they are reduced to slavery."


    "They are my property, and I''d ask you not to tell me what to do with them," said Munrus. "And who are these dark skins? Are they stolen property?"


    Sahshir''s hand was to his sword before he could stop himself. He, the King of Kalthak had been called a slave. The man would die here. But his hand was caught by Marius. "Forgive the disrespect, Sahshir. He does not know who you are, and our plight is dire."


    Sahshir held Marius'' gaze for a long moment. Then, finally, he sheathed it. "I will put the matter from my mind for now." He made a mental note to kill the man as soon as the threat was ended. Or perhaps he could arrange for him to be put into a position to be killed? Baltoth taught that indirect revenge was the best kind since it couldn''t be traced back to you.


    Marius then turned to Munrus. "You have just insulted a King, Munrus. And a trusted ally who is a personal friend of the Emperor himself.


    "You will apologize immediately."


    Munrus shifted. "I... was unaware of your noble blood, of course. You have my apologies; most of my time has been spent with... the less intelligent parts of your race."


    Sahshir took the apology for what it was. "The matter is ended."


    "In any case," said Marius. "You seem to have mistaken the strategy of the enemy. Their plan is to start a slave revolt. If all the slaves in this plantation were to rise up at once, would you be able to stop them?"


    "They would not manage it," said Munrus. "We ensure they know their place and can''t communicate. My family has been doing this for generations."


    "And I have no doubt your methods are sound," said Marius. "Still, what if they were to be freed and organized? Imagine an army with nothing to lose, brought under the heel of a competent leader. An army that goes from plantation to plantation, killing without mercy. As they do, they gather greater strength and kill all they find.


    "Once the enemy gains momentum, we will have difficulty stopping them. That is why we need your men to act as guides." Marius looked around. "Naturally, we will give you half their pay as compensation."


    Munrus shifted. "...Well, I suppose I could spare some of my better pathfinders. We use them to track down escaped slaves. We''ve learned to keep things as they ought to be well." He glanced at one of the rough-looking men. "You, get Akath One-Eye down here with his men and dogs. We''ll lend him to these."


    "Blood..." said a voice from everywhere and nowhere.


    Sahshir looked up and felt it coming. Drawing the Sword of Order, he planted it and used its power. He felt the wave flowing over the land and set himself against it. Then, like a tsunami, it slammed into his will, washing over him.


    Screams came from around them.


    "Ready your weapons!" said Sahshir. "The enemy comes!"


    "Do as he says," said Marius. "Sahshir knows this."


    The men quickly prepared, grasping weapons as noncombatants were herded into doors. Soon, some of the men from before came running. "Master, we''ve got a rebellion on our hands!" S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As they did, the slaves came forward. Old men, old women, ones who walked with limps. They rushed forward, writhed in a blackness, snarling like feral animals. Finally, one of the men was overtaken and beaten to death.


    "What is this?" said Munrus.


    "KILL THEM!" roared Garacel. "SLAUGHTER THE SLAVERS! DEATH TO THE TASKMASTERS!"


    "Legionaries, form up at the gate!" said Marius. "Sahshir-"


    Sahshir charged forward to meet them, rushing forward with his blade. Slashing the air, he sent forth his will. It clashed with the blackness, fighting the curse upon them. Yet Sahshir saw that all of these people were unlikely to survive long. They had languished in silent bondage with unending hatred suppressed out of fear.


    Order could not drive it out.


    The curse of hatred remained, and they were on him. Stepping back, Sahshir tried again and had some results. The blackness faded in a few, who died at once. Then he was fighting for his life, hacking and slashing. Limbs were cut, and hearts pierced before his men joined him.


    "DEATH BEFORE CHAINS!!" came Garacel''s voice again.


    "What is this?


    The slaves pressed on with greater and greater hatred. As they did, they were writhed in more blackness. Soon they seemed to take on the monstrous form of demons. In moments, several of Munrus'' men were ripped to shreds, and most of the rest ran. Sahshir saw one of his warriors cleave down one of the demons, only to be impaled from behind.


    Marius'' legionnaires joined the fray, hacking with their swords. Soon the fighting became fiercer as more demons in the guise of slaves came forward. And then Munrus returned, holding a sword and leading the rest of his men.


    Soon the battle was going on further as claws met weapons. The screams of the dying were everywhere. One enemy after another was killed, and yet there were always more.


    Of course, there were.


    The slaves outnumbered the masters by more than ten-to-one. Fear held them in check, and now hatred had driven them past that fear. Garacel''s power had inspired them to fury unimaginable. It had blessed them with a chance for vengeance.


    Vengeance.


    The hope of men with no hope. The chance to hurt those who have stripped all dignity, all chance for the betterment from you.


    There were no Kalthakians in this place, Harlenorians or Sornians, or any other. These men had been stripped of their identities, goals, and desires. They had been rendered no more than animals. And now they had arisen in bloody fury. The eradication of those responsible is their sole purpose for being.


    And then there were only corpses among them.


    Many of Munrus'' men had been killed, and a few of Sahshir''s men had died. Marius''s force was, for the most part, unscathed. Still, at least the local militia were somewhat valuable. They might make adequate arrow fodder.


    Still, why were only the old, the infirm, the sick, and the blind here? None of these slaves could be considered able-bodied. "This isn''t all of them," said Munrus. "Where are the rest?"


    "A distraction." guessed Sahshir. "These slaves are all sick, old, or crippled. Someone must have sent these ones to attack us while they drew off a large portion of the healthier slaves.


    "Search the fields; look for survivors."


    The fields, as it turned out, had been set on fire. The crops had been harvested and taken off, and what could not be taken was burned. As a result, bodies were all around them.


    "That''s thousands of silver worth of property!" said Munrus in horror. "My crops will rot in the field!" So there was such a thing as justice.


    "I would say we have far more serious issues." Sahshir said, glancing to Aresif. "Was there some sort of plan?"


    "No, the masters always try to keep us isolated," said Aresif. "There is no way they could have organized this many slaves without someone hearing about it. And how could they get them to die like this?"


    "I do not know," admitted Sahshir, reflecting that they were better off now. At least they had died while killing many of their oppressors. Any world with fewer people like Munrus would be better by all accounts. "But Narcissa may well be the one to find out."


    And then a messenger rushed up. "Captain Marius, the other plantations are being attacked!"


    "Damn it all, quickly make for it," said Marius.


    Sahshir shook his head.


    "No," he turned to Munrus, "you, get your men and go to aid the other plantation. Marius, you should return to the city."


    "What?" said Marius.


    "These slaves are being gathered for a reason," said Sahshir. "If the main city is left undefended, they could launch an assault on it overnight. I''ll see to helping the other plantations."


    "Why are we helping the slavers?" asked Aresif.


    "One has to fulfill the obligations to one''s allies. That was what I was taught," said Sahshir. And if Munrus had to handle his own defense, it might teach the people here a valuable lesson. Something to do with biting the hand that fed them. And it might get his people killed.


    So, all in all, Sahshir couldn''t lose.


    "Yet many who are slaves here are Kalthakians lost in the wars," said Aresif. "Will we kill them as well?"


    "They''ve been driven mad, or so it seems to me," said Sahshir. "Once this is over, I''ll see about trying to free our brethren. Now come, we have work to do."


    One or two problems, but all in all, a reasonably productive day. They weren''t any less doomed. But the world was still gaining sentients worth having. Violence truly was a cleansing force.

 Chapter 243 - Twenty: Journey into Hate

    Narcissa had been journeying for some days now.


    The swamp was now around her, but Narcissa smelled very little as she walked. She''d grown used to the muck and stench. The air was humid and hot, and the sun was still beating down even if you couldn''t see it. As she walked, she had to admit she had no particular destination, beyond ''find Master Garacel'' and no real idea for how to conduct negotiations as Sahshir instructed. She was simply walking in a general direction. She''d eaten her last rations yesterday. And still no sign of Master Garacel or anyone else.


    Meanwhile, Narcissa was wearing burrowed samurai armor that had been fitted to her, made of black plate. This is as opposed to a perfect suit of leather. It didn''t show off her breasts or her stomach; there weren''t any high heels. Her shoulders were covered by pauldrons. You couldn''t imagine seducing someone in this armor.


    Granted, it might stop a dagger or sword better. But it was the principle of the thing! Narcissa wanted to look good in battle.


    At least she didn''t have to wear a helmet. sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Well, in any case, sometimes, you just had to wander and hope the pieces fell into place.


    Even so, as Narcissa came into a scenic grove with reasonable dry patches, she felt hungry. Kneeling down, she set down her axe and her hands together in prayer. This was not a practice used by her people, who always lived in their god''s shadow. However, Sahshir performed it often to speak with Baltoth, and it seemed the right time.


    "Zigildrazia, I am yours to wield and destroy as you see fit." Narcissa began, reflecting that was something Sahshir would say. "However, I cannot see your will here in this place. Send me a sign, and I shall do as you ask."


    Then she waited.


    Narcissa heard nothing, felt nothing, and just felt silly and tired after some time as she stood up. Well, it had been worth a try. Still, perhaps she should head back before-


    Then Narcissa saw the flames. They were rising in what she thought was the north. Quickly, Narcissa snatched up her axe and strode quickly toward the fire. As she did, she remembered how much she missed her old armor. Wearing an outfit showing off plenty of cleavage, thigh, and stomach would not protect her. Not outside of Zigildrazia''s domain. But it would have been far more relaxed than this concealing tin can. She also would be able to wear her hair in a ponytail.


    Soon, Narcissa came out of the trees into a field. Before her, she saw a huge building surrounded by fields. There were several houses in those outlying fields. Most areas were on fire, and Narcissa saw several women fleeing, raising their skirts.


    However, they were cut off by men with plows and spears and were cut down in moments. They screamed and screamed, and Narcissa felt a lump in her throat as she moved forward, drawing her axe. The men looked up and moved forward, and then there was a flash as a rain of hawk feathers flowed between them.


    Master Garacel landed, arms crossed. "Welcome, Narcissa."


    "Master Garacel, what is happening here?" said Narcissa. "Why are you-"


    "Garacel, the liberator!" cheered a man.


    "Hail Garacel, the liberator!" cried others.


    Garacel raised a hand to the slaves, who fell silent. "A revolution. Since my defeat of Baltoth in Dinis, I have needed a base of operations. A place from which to strike out at my enemies.


    "I intend to make this realm of Macshore into my kingdom."


    "But why here?" asked Narcissa. "And why cause all this death?" She saw the bodies of the women, mangled and bloody. It didn''t sit right with her; it was just like Zigilus.


    Garacel smiled. "Hatred is a way of life in this place. Slave and masters despise and fear one another, working to undermine the other. All I needed to do was take hold of that hatred to inspire a rising.


    "Now, the best of the slaves are among us. And those who would not survive my planned adventure are released from torment."


    "You killed them," realized Narcissa. It was the only means of doing so, and it had been done to Zigilus.


    "I sent them to die killing their enemies, yes," said Garacel. "Several plantations have already been destroyed. Others will soon fall. Those that remain shall be wiped away by the coming of my agents."


    "Is this the will of Zigildrazia?" asked Narcissa.


    Garacel paused for a moment. "My service to Zigildrazia is at an end. My part of our bargain is complete, and now I must seek my own advantage. But I do not seek a war with her or her people."


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    "You realize then that you are starting one?" asked Narcissa. "Sahshir is allied with Dinis. He cannot afford to let this island fall to Sorn."


    "Then you must convince him otherwise," said Garacel simply.


    "And if I can''t?" asked Narcissa.


    "Then I shall see to it that he is taken alive, as well as his warriors," said Garacel with a shrug. "His presence is still needed in Kalthak to ensure your safety."


    Narcissa paused, trying to think of what to say. There was no clear answer here, no command from Zigildrazia. However, Amysta held no interest, so the choice was hers. "You do know I''m going to have to stand with him, don''t you? I can''t betray him, or his Uncle will wipe us out."


    "I am well aware, Narcissa," said Garacel.


    "He has a fleet coming," said Narcissa. "Even if you wipe these out, Dinis will arrive and interfere."


    Garacel looked back and smiled. "I would not be so quick to underestimate hatred. It is an infinitely renewable resource. And Sornians hate one another as much as their enemies.


    "House Kaiban, House Magnious, House Suvvest, House Yusuf, and many others. All are competing to prove themselves stronger. King Nagos'' defeat of one fleet will inspire others to come."


    "Then you''ll play the sides against one another," said Narcissa. "As you did at Zigilus."


    "But, of course," said Garacel. "That is the nature of victory. To weaken and divide your enemy while keeping your own power unified.


    "Everything else is luck."


    The slaves were assembling before him even now, gathering. They raised farm tools and hammers. Garacel drew out the Blade of Chaos at his side, and as he did, the blade seemed to snarl with hatred. "My children. I am overjoyed to see so many of you gathered here before me. Your hate has made you powerful. It has broken the chains of your weak masters. But there are strong overlords. Ones who will seek to place new chains upon you.


    "How will you defeat them?"


    "Will you protect us, Garacel?" asked a woman.


    "Would that I could alone," said Garacel. "But with your aid, I may do just that. Whoever you are, Kalthakian, Harlenorian, Medi, Dren, or Dinian, you are all of one people now.


    "My agents will train you in the art of war. And when the time is right, we will overthrow them." And then he turned around to look behind Narcissa. "Is that acceptable, Lieutenant Garrick?"


    Narcissa turned and saw nothing. Then Garrick emerged from the shadows alongside his men.


    "You seem to have me at a disadvantage. I do not know you, but from your manifested powers, I would guess you to be Akalmush, the Lord of Hatred.


    "I was led to believe you dead."


    "I am his brother, Garacel," said Garacel, sheathing his sword. "And I am not yet his successor. But, Bas, you led them to me as I asked. I am pleased."


    "What is the meaning of this?" asked Garrick flatly.


    "I foresaw the coming of the Sornians and their defeat," said Garacel. "Thus, I set my servant Bas to watch for those who escaped and lead them away. Now with the army assembled, you and your men will train it."


    "I have signed no contract," noted Garrick, looking around him. Did Garacel really know Garrick would join him? How? And what would he do to ensure his loyalty? This seemed too great a chance to take publically.


    "Contract or no, our fates are tied," said Garrick, raising a hand. "So long as Dinis remains a power on this island, you are doomed to defeat. And my children will burn and die beneath their whips.


    "We stand together or die apart."


    "And what do you propose?" asked Garrick, shifting his sword on his back. His gaze turned to Narcissa, who met his and wondered at his intentions. Could Master Garacel really trust this man?


    "You already grasp what I propose," said Garacel, moving toward Garrick. "You and your men will instruct those untrained in battle in the art of it. But for now, we have other matters to attend to." He glanced at his people. "The time for preparation has come. We must now establish a great stronghold within this marsh."


    "A marsh?" asked Garrick. "Laevian''s diseases often run in these. It would be wiser to choose firmer ground, where insects are uncommon." And insect buzzed near him, and Garrick reached up to crush it.


    "Laevian is on our side," said Garacel. "I have long prepared this. For I knew Zigildrazia would arrange the destruction of Zigilus. And I knew that Sorn could not resist an easy target.


    "The Goddess of the Wilds has sworn that no sickness shall touch us so long as the battle wages. Now quickly, we must begin our efforts." Then he looked to Narcissa, raising an eyebrow. "Narcissa, you have something to say?"


    "How could you have foreseen this?" asked Narcissa.


    "My contacts among your people told me that Sahshir was mobilizing for war," said Garacel with a smile. "And I observed the fleets gathering. I anticipated that he would take aggressive action, and this seemed the logical place for it.


    "The Sornians, however, came expecting an easy victory. They were not anticipating an alliance against them. And they were acting in disunity, competing to be the first to win.


    "Because of this slipshod offensive, I calculated that Sorn would be defeated here. Of course, unchanneled power is no power at all. But, in truth, the actions of the slavers were of precious little relevance to me. Regardless of events, I planned to exploit the ensuing chaos. And use it have.


    "The only way their conflict could have gone against me was if one wholly annihilated the other.


    "Though I confess, the destruction you have unleashed is quite impressive. I''ve had to rewrite my plans to account for it already." He sighed. "Go to Abdul Sahshir. Tell him we are free and seek no conflict with him or Dinis."


    "Dinis won''t accept a truce like that, and you know it," said Narcissa. "Hell, your plan counted on it." If Dinis had been the sort to cut their losses, they''d just have sold the island or made a truce. "They will fight to the bitter end to keep this place. Once they finish the Sornians, they will come after you next.


    "And the two might unite to destroy you as well."


    "Go nonetheless," said Garacel with a smile. "We must seek to avoid a useless war if only to remain sympathetic. I shall provide you with supplies, of course."


    Narcissa couldn''t see the harm in what he was asking. And it might help later. So Narcissa bowed traditionally, meant to show off her body. "As you wish."


    Narcissa missed the low-cut armor she used to wear. If she''d been wearing it, she''d have looked very seductive. It really made her breasts look good, and her neck was great with the collar. It just didn''t have the same effect in samurai armor. You couldn''t even see the curve of her hips! So why did Sahshir insist on her dressing like she was some sort of samurai?


    She was a battle-luster, and she wanted to wear high-heels and low-cut leather armor!


    It wasn''t fair!


    Oh, and she also had to do something about this slave revolt.


    She missed Zigilus.

 Chapter 244 - Twenty-One: Another Return

    Narcissa needed to feel up to this.


    As she made her way out of the swamps, she felt hot, wet, and tired. All three had been qualities she''d enjoyed a lot more when visiting the Priestesses of Safara. It had taken several days, and the heat had been terrible. Several times she''d nearly slipped and plunged into deep water. And she swore the roots grabbed at her once or twice, and not even in the good tentacle way. Far from giving her the thrill of feeling like she was about to be erotically torn apart, she just tripped and fell. The mud didn''t cling to her sensually, it just made her look and feel terrible.


    Probably the work of Laevian.


    But it didn''t end there. Now she would have to play mediator between Sahshir and Master Garacel. For her part, she doubted either one would listen to her. Sahshir hated Garacel.


    If Sahshir lost, at least he''d be left alive. But Narcissa was supposed to help him win. That meant she''d act contrary to Master Garacel and possibly Zigildrazia''s will. Yet maintaining Zigildrazia''s people was essential to her.


    Then again, the people Narcissa had saved weren''t meant to survive. Zigildrazia had evacuated those she deemed valuable for one reason or another. What Narcissa had done had been tolerated, but not to her will.


    They were supposed to have become raishans and helped kill the armies of Zigilus.


    So was Narcissa actually acting in defiance of Zigildrazia? She didn''t like the thought, but what if it was true? Shouldn''t she sabotage Sahshir''s war effort? Yet that would sabotage Master Garacel''s war effort as well, wouldn''t it? Would it?


    All these questions went through her mind, and no answers came.


    It seemed to Narcissa obvious what she ought to do. If she followed Zigildrazia''s will, she''d have to sacrifice everything. But indeed Zigildrazia cared little for what actually happened. She had been... understanding of Dinis'' continued persistence.


    Did Zigildrazia even care what she did?


    And if she did not, why did it matter what Narcissa did? If any action was good enough for her Goddess, why should she care what she did?


    As she walked, Narcissa thought about all this, and the plants gave her no further trouble. Yet she found no answers as she did. Soon enough, Narcissa came to a field of long grass. And there, on that field, she saw a group of men with spears assembled near a set of long grass. They wore leather armor and caps and had their weapons lowered. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A horde of slaves came at them with axes and spades. They crashed against the formation, and the men held firm, if only barely. They struggled to stand against the enemy, and the enemy was almost enveloping them. The line was breaking!


    Then, Sahshir and his men suddenly sprang out of the grass and descended on them, hacking them up from the side.


    Sahshir cleaved through two men before coming sword to sword with a Kalthakian. Clashing twice, he slid to a halt, then surged past the man. The two halted, blades still, before the man fell dead. Around him, the battle was raging all the hotter as even more slaves came forward.


    Hefting her axe, Narcissa realized that Sahshir had to kill some of his own people. She had no excuse to do nothing. She would act as seemed best to her if Zigildrazia didn''t care. Rushing forward, she yelled aloud. "For Zigildrazia!"


    Narcissa hit the slaves from behind and brought her axe around. It cleaved three men in half in one swing; another killed four. She felt Amysta screaming in pleasure as she hacked through limbs and body.


    The enemy were driven before her into the spears of the defenders. Panicking, the slaves turned and fled. The defenders rushed after them, hacking down who they could. They killed without mercy. Blood was everywhere, but some of the slaves turned and fought, buying time for the others to escape. Not one of the rearguards was spared.


    When the battle had ended, the land was riddled with corpses. Most of them were slaves or freemen. Only a few Kalthakians had fallen, and many of them were among the slaves. Sahshir wiped the blood from his sword on the grass, sheathed it, and moved toward her. He was still holding it in an underhand grip, as usual.


    "Narcissa, your timing is good," said Sahshir, nodding respectfully. "Though far from perfect."


    "That''s more luck than intent," admitted Narcissa. Where had she been going anyway? It didn''t matter.


    "Baltoth says that luck comes from the proper application of intent," said Sahshir.


    "What does that even mean?" asked Narcissa.


    "If one looks upon the world with clarity, one will act in a fashion that most suit the situation," said Sahshir. "Thus, fortune will be far more likely to strike."


    "Kalthakians?" asked one of the militia. "What are you lot doing out here?" His voice was filled with contempt.


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    "We have come here as allies of Dinis to aid you against this slave revolt," said Sahshir, looking unamused. "I am King Sahshir of Eastern Kalthak."


    There were dark murmurs among the slavers, but the man raised a hand, and they went silent.


    "Well, you''re here at a good time." said the man. "We were about to be overwhelmed."


    "Why were you folk skulking in the grass?" snarled a man. "Waiting for us to be whittled down?"


    "Preparing a flanking maneuver," replied Sahshir. "We judged that joining the main defense would be less effective.


    "There is little time. Other plantations may have already come under attack. We must go to them." He almost sounded concerned, which was unusual for Sahshir.


    "Well, Marindus'' is the nearest." said the man.


    "Then you''d best get your men and come with us as quickly as possible," said Sahshir. Then he glanced at one of his men warily. "Aresif, get our healers to tend to the militia and prepare them for war as soon as possible." He looked at the man he had been speaking to. "Who are you?"


    "I am Orisen," replied the man. "We were formed in response to the message from the port. We''ve been fighting with these animals for days. They pinned us down here." He looked at the corpses. "This is a lot of destroyed property. Assex, find any of our slaves who remain loyal and healthy. This didn''t seem like a natural thing."


    "It wasn''t," said Narcissa.


    Sahshir looked at her. "Meaning?"


    "I found Garacel, Sahshir. He''s using the hatred stirred in this place to cause rebellions," said Narcissa. "I think he stirs the hatred up in them all at once. Then, when he does it, the enforcers aren''t able to gather and get overwhelmed."


    "Garacel?" said Orisen. "Is this a sorcerer you speak of?"


    "Worse," said Sahshir. "A god, one I''ve clashed with several times."


    Narcissa resisted the urge to point out it was one time, once in front of the gates. The other time had really been Baltoth against Garacel using Sahshir''s body.


    "In that case, how can we counter it?" asked Orisen.


    "Well, it seems that not all the slaves revolted," said Narcissa. "There must be a reason for it.""I should think that obvious," said Sahshir. "Those who treated their slaves with a semblance of dignity would be despised far less. So there would be less to work with."


    "Well, we''ll have to see to the other plantations," said Orisen. "We can''t let good people die because of this monster."


    "Very well," said Sahshir. "We will head to Marindus'' plantation and see what I find. Narcissa, a word." They walked aside, and Sahshir looked at her hard, and Narcissa saw the blackened skin around his eyes. "What does Garacel want here?"


    "He wants to establish his own kingdom," said Narcissa truthfully. "One that worships him and him alone. And he is going to get it if I''m right."


    "What makes you sure?" asked Sahshir.


    He already knew, didn''t he? "Look around you, Sahshir," said Narcissa. "Most of the population of this island are slaves. Garacel is using the less useful ones to cover the escape of the strongest. Those he is training into an army."


    "You cannot raise an army overnight," said Sahshir. "It takes months of work."


    "He won''t need to have them all be experts, Sahshir," said Narcissa. "Many of them are probably former soldiers. If he can get them weapons, he''ll be able to overwhelm this place.


    "And what about Sorn?


    "They won''t sit still for this. So I don''t think we''ll hold this place."


    "We must at least make an attempt," said Sahshir. "We have an obligation to our allies that must be upheld."


    "And what of the Kalthakians, Sahshir?" asked Narcissa. "Will you kill your own countrymen to protect their oppressors?"


    Sahshir remained silent, and then he seemed to think of something. "...If we can arrange for all Kalthakians to be freed, it may diminish Garacel''s forces by a large amount. Is Garrick with him?"


    "Yes," said Narcissa. "They''ve struck up an alliance."


    "Then Sorn may well enter this conflict again." mused Sahshir.


    "They won''t need to," said Narcissa. "Garacel has the numbers to wipe us out if he has a week to do it. Even without training."


    "He doesn''t have a week," said Sahshir. "Where is he going to gather food from? Where will his people find shelter? They''ll be starving in a few days."


    "Do not be too certain, King Sahshir." said the one he''d called Aresif. "Garacel needs a patron, and if he were to establish himself here, it could make him a powerful piece. Elranor might well have a use for him, and we know well the danger of his God Triumvirate."


    "You can''t rely on miracles indefinitely," said Sahshir. "They only happen once."


    Half a day later, they arrived at the Marindius plantation. Or what was left of it?


    Every building had been set afire and burned. The fields had been hacked up and burned. Trees had been left standing, but everything else was obliterated. So many corpses had been gathered into heaps and burned. But the heads had been cut off and laid out in another pile some ways away.


    "Is this Marindius'' home?" asked Sahshir.


    "It was once," said Orisen, looking gray.


    "From the looks of things, Garacel means to raze this entire island to the ground," noted Sahshir. "Fan out. Check for survivors and look for supplies and equipment we can scavenge. Move quickly."


    On the search went, and soon, one of Sahshir''s samurai came forward and bowed. "King Sahshir, we found the granary. It''s empty. Someone took everything inside it. So are the tool sheds and what looks to be an armory. No survivors, but, well, we found the owners."


    The owners had been crucified. From the looks of things, someone had speared them as they hung to ensure they weren''t rescued. Three of them were children, two boys and a girl, all disfigured by knives.


    "Children dead. This is a grim scene," said Sahshir, tone level.


    "It couldn''t have happened to a more deserving family," said Aresif, smiling. "Being sold to Marindius was a threat the plantation owners would use. He was a cruel bastard; some say he even shot his slaves for sport. Though I imagine those tales are nonsense, the property is valuable."


    "Take them down and bury them," said Sahshir. "Give them such rites as we can manage. Then prepare to move out. We''ll save as many as we can, then withdraw back to the city."


    "A lot of good that will do us," noted Narcissa. "Why the hell did Nagos have to go without us?"


    "You know why," replied Sahshir simply.


    And he was right. Nagos didn''t want to be here, and his talents were better suited to the seas anyway. Narcissa was annoyed at how Sahshir always seemed to know the reason for things. How was he so calm? Then again, who said he was calm. Whether in a state of white-hot fury or good humor, Sahshir acted exactly the same way.


    He was viciously rational that way. It was his best trait.


    Narcissa decided she was not going to betray him. Not just because Zigildrazia might or might not want it, anyway.

 Chapter 245 - Twenty-Two: Bad News

    A week later, Sahshir entered the capital''s gates ahead of the central column. He had a few new scars and a great deal more frustration. Very little else had been gained besides more bodies.


    Romilis met him there, flanked by guards. He looked concerned. "King Sahshir, you''ve returned. What news? And why do you come alone?"


    Sahshir looked at him and drew aside his mask to drink some water. Romilis recoiled at the sight of what lay beneath, but Sahshir did not care. "I have come ahead. We''ve saved all we can but found more ruins than plantations. So I''m going to withdraw everyone into the city. Narcissa is escorting men from the plantations here as we speak. My men are with her.


    "They are taking all the food and supplies we can manage."


    "Is that necessary?" asked Romilis.


    "Yes," said Sahshir. "Garacel is gathering an army to him, and we''ve only fragments. So I''ve sent out scouts to see if I can find him and strike while the iron is hot.


    "But none of them have reported back.


    "What news here?"


    "The last of the fires have been put out," said Romilis, shifting. "We''re working to repair some of the damage. We are housing people who''ve lost their homes in the warehouses.


    "There have been vast losses of material and men."


    "Get me a list of everything we have left," said Sahshir. "Then order these defenses reinforced. We may well come under siege." He paused. "Is there any news from Nagos?"


    "Yes, King Sahshir," said Romilis. "He made an alliance with several pirates. They raided Sornian shipping repeatedly and drew the attention of the Sornian Fleets. One such fleet pursued the pirates into an ambush that King Nagos set. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "He fell on them and sank every one of them. I wrote to some friends in Sorn, and it appears the great houses are panicking. They''ve called up their full strength for the coming war. They offered a truce with only small concessions on the part of Dinis."


    "Then the war is over?" guessed Sahshir.


    Romilis paused, and Sahshir got a bad feeling about this. There was something he didn''t want to say. "What of the fleet from Chaminus?" asked Sahshir.


    Romilus opened his mouth, then shut it again.


    "Well?" asked Sahshir.


    "After the Sornians made their offer, Emperor Octavus refused," said Romilis. "He would accept no terms that did not leave the Empire intact. Trade agreements meant nothing to him. Thus he led the Dinis fleets out to confront Sorn. With him were his Eastern Kalthakian allies.


    "There was a great battle, and the two sides fought for nearly a day. The Emperor led his forces into combat personally and fought valiantly. He nearly drove in the enemy fleet and broke it.


    "But he was struck with an arrow and was wounded. The battle fell apart after that. The Eastern Kalthakians broke away from the battle, and the fleet was scattered.


    "Emperor Octavus led his ship forward and attacked the Sornian Fleet to cover the retreat. It drew the attention of the Sornian Captains; they all wanted to capture him. However, he and his men fought to the bitter end and let the fleet escape. The Emperor was killed in battle.


    "They say Sen Kaba cut his throat in single combat.


    "The fleet is scattered, and even now, Sorn is on its way."


    Sahshir considered his situation. It was not a good one, and they were all likely to die, but death was inevitable. On the other hand, with proper strategy, they could make a glorious end and a costly victory for Sorn. Octavus had already done that, and Sahshir considered his death a redemption. No doubt his time on a ship had hardened him somewhat, and he had fallen as a warrior. "Where did Nagos say he was?"


    "The last I heard, he was trying to link up with the Eastern Kalthakians," said Romilis. "He was now present for the battle."


    "How far from us is the Sornian Fleet?" asked Sahshir.


    "Perhaps a week," said Romilis.


    Sahshir moved past him, looked up at one of the white stone buildings, and focused on slanted shingles. "Where is Marius?"


    "He has been trying to gather a militia from the people here," said Romilis. "However..."


    "Yes?" asked Sahshir. He was beginning to grow tired of this man constantly hesitating. It was a show of weakness. Why was he so nervous and resentful of his allies?


    "He''s ordered the slaves liberated en masse," said Romilis. "He promised them freedom if they would fight for us. We nearly had a riot."


    "Would you prefer to cut their throats?" asked Sahshir.


    "Of course not," said Romilis.


    "Then we have little choice," said Sahshir. "We can''t afford to have a hostile population inside our walls when we''re under siege, and we need all the help we can get.


    "Let me think." He sat down and thought things through. "If we can hunt down and destroy Garacel before the Sorn Fleet arrives... no, no, by the time we get his location, they may be here. And we can''t spend long hunting him."


    "We''ll fortify the harbor first. Then, if we can repulse the Sornian''s initial assault, Nagos may have time to help us.


    "Who is this Sen Kaiban anyway?"


    "They call him the Young Conqueror," said Romilis. "He was adopted into the Kaba family with his brother. He managed to seize numerous islands in the name of Sorn. He established many sugar plantations. It is said he killed Emperor Octavus personally."


    "And he was not here before?" asked Sahshir.


    "The fleet sent against us before was from House Magnious. They are an ancient and venerable Sorn House," said Romilis. "They and the Kaba''s have hated each other for years.


    "Sornian Houses all have their own personal forces and fleets."


    "Very well then," said Sahshir. "Can we get a ship to Chaminus?"


    "It is possible, though they may be overtaken," said Romilis.


    "Find a volunteer to take a message there," said Sahshir. "I must know for certain if the Emperor still lives and what part of our forces remain."


    "This is madness!" blurted Romilis. "The war is lost!"


    "We have not lost the war," said Sahshir. "Nor will we lose it."


    "This is not your land," said Romilis. "If we come to terms with Sorn now, we can gain a reasonable deal. Freeing the slaves to use as soldiers will only destroy our society. All to pursue an impossible victory.


    "Forcing Sorn to suffer a pyrrhic victory will only ensure our destruction! You must see that!" Sahshir imagined Chaminus in flames as a Sornian flag was raised above the palace. He thought about slaughter and death. All for what? Sugar and gold?


    "All men die. In a hundred years, every one of us will die," said Sahshir. "Sorn may destroy you, even if you negotiate with them.


    "You can face your enemy with dignity and perhaps gain the glory that outlives you. Or you can cower in fear and be forgotten. If we defeat Sorn here, you can negotiate far better terms with Dinis next Emperor. Surrender, and you will be made weaker either way."


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    Romilis looked at him hard for a moment, then sighed. "Very well, I''ll make the arrangements," He moved off.


    Sahshir looked to some men, then glanced to see the troops approaching. "You, men. Take me to Marius."


    As it turned out, Marius was drilling the militia and ensuring they consisted of mixed races. There were glares directed between both sides. But all were working at drills, practicing marching and shield walls. Marius himself observed, occasionally giving orders. As Sahshir arrived, he glanced up. "Sahshir, you''ve returned. Where are the others?"


    "Escorting refugees and supplies to this location," said Sahshir. "Are these the slaves you freed?"


    "Some of them," said Marius. "The masters objected, but they''ve no steel in them. It isn''t in my nature to make an army of mixed races. While I respect your kind, our armies ought not to mix. Even so, I felt it was necessary."


    "Why?" asked Sahshir, having suspicions about the reason himself.


    "Everyone hates everyone else," says Marius. "The lower class freemen resent the higher-ranked ones and hate the slaves. The upper classes hold lower-class freemen and slaves in contempt. The slaves want them all dead.


    "If any stability is to be established here, they need to have something in common.


    "So I drafted men from all classes and forced them to train under my soldiers. If they fight a few battles together, they may reach some form of understanding."


    "You''re taking it very well that your Emperor is dead," noted Sahshir.


    Marius sighed and finally looked grim at last. "We''ve lost Emperor''s before. But, at least he died well, fighting in glory. He didn''t beg for mercy or try to buy his way out. I heard that he took his own life rather than be captured. And at least his successor didn''t murder him."


    "Who is his successor?" asked Sahshir.


    "Does it matter?" asked Marius. "Some noble who has bought favors in the right places, I expect. They''ll marry the Empress Mother, or failing that, kill her. Believe me, it could be worse.


    "In my Father''s twentieth year, we had four Emperor''s in one year. Every single one of them killed his predecessor and murdered his family.


    "Though Octavus I was the exception to murdering the families of his enemies. He let most of them live unless they were openly treasonous. Most of them even did the things he accused them of. His son was much the same in that."


    "And you honestly tolerate this kind of behavior?" asked Sahshir, shocked at what he hard. Baltoth had never had this kind of succession issue; he ruled eternally.


    "We don''t have much choice," said Marius. "I suspect Zigildrazia arranged many of those changes in power. It all stopped once we entered the service of Lady Safara."


    Sahshir paused and realized they were getting away from the subject. Still, he wondered how Marius dealt with dwelling in an unstable society. To have your Emperor shift in a matter of days and think nothing of it...


    It was unimaginable to Sahshir. "We must compensate the planets for their loss of slaves."


    "To what end?" asked Marius. "I''ve had all I can take of good farmers being forced off their lands by slaveholders."


    "Have you ever heard the story of God Emperor Valranor?" asked Sahshir instead of a straight answer. Stories made points better than direct statements.


    "The God whom Baltoth supplanted," mused Marius. "I have heard of him."


    "He was a being of immense power, greater than any other god," said Sahshir. "He had armies beyond count and held dominion over the greatest Empire the world had ever seen. When he conquered a region, those he conquered did as he said. No aspect of their culture that he disapproved of was allowed.


    "In terror, they submitted to him.


    "But then came Baltoth and dealt him defeat after defeat. Thus the spell was broken. Valranor''s subjects saw the chance to restore themselves. They rose in rebellion, and Valranor''s Empire was destroyed. When Baltoth took his place, he allowed them to act as they saw fit, so long as they ruled in his name.


    "Now his Empire is larger and greater than Valranor. Baltoth has fought many wars and suffered many defeats. But not once has a rebellion succeeded. All are bound by his inexorable will. We must follow his example."


    "In Dinis, many once-proud soldiers now walk homeless. While fat planters like these live large in farms tilled by slaves," snapped Marius. "Farms that were stolen from my brothers.


    "To be beggared is no more than they deserve."


    This conversation needed a dose of reality.


    "Look around you, Marius," hissed Sahshir. "We are about to come under attack by overwhelming enemies from all sides. With Octavus dead, these planters might decide surrender is their only option. And if we alienate them, they could turn on us.


    "We must pay them for the slaves you freed."


    Marius eyed him carefully. "As you say, how will you do it?"


    "We have a great deal of loot stolen from the countryside," said Sahshir. "Return it."


    "You want us to give up our winnings?" asked Marius incredulously.


    "It used to belong to the city anyway," said Sahshir. "If we give it back, we''ll ingratiate ourselves with them.


    "Keep it, and they''ll call us thieves."


    "Let them," said Marius. "We seized that plunder ourselves."


    "And if we do not give it up, our defense is doomed," said Sahshir. "Which do you value more? Plunder? Or your nation and life? Believe me, I have no great love for this place. But for the sake of Kalthak, I would gladly give up money for duty."


    Marius shifted. "...Very well, then. We will give up a portion of the plunder we seized.


    "We''re all likely to die anyway when the Sornians get here. And if we win, their weapons could be sold for much gold."


    "Then let us focus on what we may do to defend against the coming assault," said Sahshir. "Have you fought the Sornians before?"


    "No," said Marius. "Not before this war.


    "But they''ll have to land somewhere. If we stand our ground here, we should be able to hold them off for a long time."


    "Perhaps," said Sahshir, thinking of recent battles. Marius'' plan seemed like something other than a winning strategy. "Have you heard the story of the Battle of Desora?"


    "No," said Marius.


    "Desora is a beach in the province of Artarq. It is a domain contested between Calisha and our nemesis, Harlenor," said Sahshir. "It was conquered some years ago when traitors rose in rebellion. They invited Harlenor to protect them.


    "King Banir, the rightful leader, was forced to flee. Then, with the river held against him, he raised a fleet from Calisha and attacked by sea.


    "But there was a cunning warrior among the Harlenorians. Sir Vanion Gabriel found them landing and gathered a small part of his army. He fell on Banir''s army as it landed and drove them into the sea. It was a humiliation, and the fleet was forced back.".


    "What''s your point?" asked Marius. "And why do you admire an enemy?"


    "Baltoth teaches us that one must study their enemy and know their virtues," said Sahshir. "If you understand the greatness of your opponent, you may use that greatness for your own benefit.


    "As for my point, I believe such a strategy may do us good."


    "What do you have in mind?" asked Marius.


    "We will find where Kaiban lands his forces," said Sahshir. "We will gather our full force and charge to kill as many as we can."


    "You would gamble everything on one battle?" asked Marius, smiling.


    "If we wait forever here, we will surely be defeated," said Sahshir. "So let us attack and hope for victory against all odds."


    "The plan may have merit," conceded Marius. "But we should have far more of a plan than that."


    "Then let us make our plans now and pray for good fortune," said Sahshir.


    "I''ll send out scouts and consult maps to see if I may find a good place for unloading ships," said Marius. "They may try the harbor again, but they may not."


    "Sorn may attempt to make an alliance with the slaves on the island," noted Sahshir. "I suspect elements of their forces have helped to start these revolts."


    "That would be wholly in character for Kaba," mused Marius. "In his conquests, he makes alliances with local leaders. Usually, he plays them against one another."


    "And what happens to his allies when they are no further use?" asked Sahshir.


    "It depends," said Marius. "In some cases, when dealing with Harlenorians, Kaba sticks to the agreement. But when dealing with natives or pirates, he is not nearly so quick to stick to his principles."


    "Have you met him?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Marius. "He bought up all the professional healers in my region individually, so they were taking his orders. He then proceeded to raise their rates to obscene levels. So my sister is a priestess of Imogen and began healing people freely who couldn''t afford his prices.


    "A gang of thugs broke her arm and cut off her fingers. Though no one ever proved it was he who sent them. None of the healers in the area would fix the wound for fear of him, which was beyond her ability. Then Kaba arrived, with one of his personal physicians came and healed her. He politely suggested to Father that she not be sent on such dangerous ventures in the future.


    "After that, she stopped healing people, and people started dying much quicker. Eventually, she moved to the capital to practice her trade there."


    "How did he strike you?" asked Sahshir. "Beyond the obvious."


    "He didn''t strike me; that would be out of character for him," Marius scornfully said.


    "What was your impression of him?" asked Sahshir.


    "Cold, harsh, blunt. He bears none of the courtesy one should expect from a true aristocrat," said Marius. "He wears a long coat and has brown hair, and he often practices with knives. Has a fixation on dragons, too, I think, if the designs on his wall are any indication.


    "Most of his operations are done through a man named Lilas these days. Why do you ask?"


    "If Sen Kaba seizes this island, he will want the cooperation of the locals, will he not?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes, for the moment," said Marius.


    "So that means he may ally with the slaves," mused Sahshir. "But he won''t keep it."


    "Unless he chooses to exterminate the entire island," noted Marius.


    "That would leave the island useless for a long period," said Sahshir. "And make his battle far harder. No, he''ll want to use the planters for the moment. If I were him, I''d ally with the slaves, use them as cannon fodder, then put them back in chains."


    "Where are you going with this?" asked Marius.


    "We may fail to drive the Sornians into the sea, as we hope," said Sahshir. "If so, we will need to have a fallback plan."


    "Surely you seek death or glory?" asked Marius.


    The conclusion was obvious. "No, I seek a battle with a possibility of success," said Sahshir. "I cannot see any chance of victory against a fleet large enough to route the Emperor. Not by a direct static defense. An aggressive assault may achieve success. But they may land in more than one place or reform and land again.


    "If that happens, there must be another means to achieve victory. We can turn the advantage of our enemy against them."


    Marius paused. "Your Queen, Narcissa, is close with Garacel."


    "She is not my Queen, but she was trained by Garacel, yes," said Sahshir. He thought with revulsion at the idea of sleeping with her. Not anything against her; the idea was merely... unpleasant for him.


    "Then I believe I may have a strategy that could yield fruit," noted Marius.


    "What is it?" asked Sahshir.


    And then Romilus appeared. "Captain Marius, King Sahshir, Narcissa, and her forces have arrived."


    Marius stood and called a halt. "We''ll discuss the details once she is with us. We will need her help with this."


    Once more, they had work to do.

 Chapter 246 - Twenty-Three: Crossing of Destiny

    Finn was in awe, judging by his expression.


    Garrick did not blame him. The events happening around them now were eccentric, to say the least. He refused to indulge in such emotions while on a mission. But that didn''t mean he begrudged his associate. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The swamp had long since given way to a realm designed to support life. Rather than tolerate life as an unfortunate necessity as most of Laevian''s realms did. Sentient life, at any rate, was welcome. There were no thorns or anything like on the bushes. Low-hanging fruit was all around, and the water became clear as crystal here.


    "Plants grow up, yielding vast tracks of fruit and vegetables," said Finn. "Water purifies itself." He pounded a fist against one hand. "I''ve never seen anything like this, Garrick."


    "Spirits can be induced to do this kind of thing if one can contract with them," said Garrick. Before them, the slaves were training for war. "Though rarely in such vast amounts."


    "No, no, I mean Laevian doing something nice for someone else," said Finn, looking up in surprise. "She''s not exactly nice company."


    "Oh," said Garrick, realizing he''d misunderstood him. "Yes. That is somewhat remarkable." Then, looking up, he saw a recruit stabbing with a spear the wrong way and quickly caught it. "You, you are holding your spear like this. Adjust it."


    The raids had been well-timed.


    The slave revolts had been done to draw attention. Meanwhile, Finn and Garrick scavenged weapons and equipment for the colony. Though even despite Finn''s raiding, he''d had to improvise some.


    "My compliments, Finn," said Garacel as he landed, "on acquiring weapons." How did he get his voice to sound so metallic anyway? He was clearly in human form.


    "Well, anything can be a weapon," said Finn. He was looking at where slaves were straightening the blades of pitchforks. "With a bit of alteration, anything can kill a man. You must eliminate the inconvenient parts and straighten it up a little.


    "I don''t get why Laevian is supporting you, though."


    "Laevian must perform miracles sometimes, or no one would worship her," said Garrick. "Fear alone cannot rule the world."


    "And contracts can?" asked Garacel.


    "Yes," said Garrick. That was something he would not negotiate on.


    "What makes you say that?" asked Garacel.


    "Fear and love, hatred and compassion, these are passing feelings," said Garrick. "Things that can inspire one to act in one way or another. If not controlled, then they run amok and consume everything you are. They destroy plans and render your holdings unprofitable.


    "But a contract.


    "A contract outlines specific rules for what you can and cannot do. It gives a goal and the expectation of a reward. Love is a feeling. A contract is a way of life."


    "Yeah, but where is the fun in that?" asked Finn. "I mean, I never see you enjoy anything."


    "I enjoy efficiency and achieving the ends I have set," said Garrick, though he realized it was a lie. His own pleasure had never been a priority.


    "And what do you call this?" asked Finn.


    Garrick considered how far the situation had gotten out of hand. Even if he succeeded in arranging this slave revolt, Sen Kaba would be the one he''d make a deal with. House Magnious had, if the last reports were any indication, drawn back to a defensive stance. "Improvisation."


    Specific definitions were only helpful if correct. Unfortunately, the situation was too fluid to be accurate. "The most important part of any leader''s arsenal," said Garacel. "My men are advancing quickly under your guidance Garrick. I am pleased."


    "It is a relatively simple calculation," said Garrick, glancing back to the rows of trainees. They''d been chosen from among the younger and healthier. Though some had prior experience in battles before slavery. Women capable of bearing children had been left out of the war. The same was said for children younger than fifteen.


    Only the first step would be complete once the enemy was brought to heel. After that, establishing a sustainable population would be feasible. Assuming Kaba would make a deal.


    "Have those who understand fighting instruct ten men each in the basics. Then have those ten men instruct another ten in the basics, and so on.


    "Still, our victory will be meaningless."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Finn.


    "Our goal was to seize Macshore and use it to create new sugar plantations," said Garrick. "However, now that quest has mutated into a crusade. Victory can only be achieved by using the slaves to destroy the masters. As well as the government that supports them.


    "This will devastate the economy of this region, and I doubt it will recover in a human''s lifetime." And that was why Sen Kaba would probably never make a deal. Garrick calculated that he would probably use the slaves as disposable shock troops. Once Dinis was beaten, he could make a deal with the masters and reenslave them.


    "Who cares?" asked Finn. "We''ll win."


    "Beggar thy neighbor as a policy merely results in all the world dressed in rags," noted Garrick. "Our goal has never been to destroy Dinis. Merely to seize their holdings and integrate them into that of their employer.


    "I do not judge this to be a productive use of anyone''s time."


    "Then why are you here?" asked Garacel.


    Garrick considered the question. "I must fulfill my contract. And Dinis will likely attempt reprisals on Sorn. But, with King Nagos'' new fleet, such a war will go poorly.


    "A successful slave revolt here could tie up Dinis'' armies for weeks, even months. That will give House Magnious, and Sorn as a whole, the opportunity to adopt a new strategy. It also allows me to fulfill the letter of my contract, if not the intent. And when intent fails, letters must do."


    "Why don''t you summon another windstorm and sink the fleet?" asked Finn.


    "Do you know how many favors I had to call to muster those stormclouds, Finn?" asked Garrick, annoyed by the question. He ought to know this much by now.


    Finn shifted uneasily. "...No."


    "A great many," said Garrick. "I had to steal the Gem of Enlightenment from the Castle of the Winds to get that windstorm. Though I suppose one ought to call it the Gem of Contentment- Nevermind. Don''t even ask me that question again." That brought his thoughts to another matter. "...We should kill King Sahshir."


    "What, the Leper Prince? Why?" asked Finn.


    "He is the one who allied with Dinis," said Garrick. "And he has strong ties to Nagos. So if he is killed, his successor may choose to break off contact. That, in turn, will weaken Dinis in future wars."


    "We will do no such thing," said Garacel, voice hard. "Sahshir is necessary for my plans."


    "You might want to improvise a solution without him. I hear he hates your guts," said Finn with a smirk.


    "That is the point," said Garacel.


    Ah, so he was refusing to explain his plans to add an aura of mystery. But, of course, the answer to that mystery was likely depressingly simple. Garrick had seen many men adopt this policy, and very few were alive to tell of it. Negotiations were more straightforward when everyone knew what everyone else wanted.


    "Well, fine then, keep your cards close to the vest," said Finn. "How did you get this alliance with Laevian?"


    Garacel smiled. "I owe thanks to a young paladin of Elranor named William Gabriel."


    "Gabriel?" Garrick frowned as he remembered him. He was reasonably calculating, immensely strong for his age, with a scar over his eye. "I''ve met him."


    "You have?" asked Garacel, sounding surprised.


    "Yes," said Garrick. "He was an accomplished swordsman despite his young age. And Lady Rusara mentored him. She says the Dusk Elves have a use for his house." And Rusara''s word was, for strategy purposes, law these days.


    "Wow, that''s high praise," said Finn, clapping him back before looking back to Garacel. "But how did he arrange an alliance between you and Laevian?"


    "It was indirect," said Garacel. "You see, I have an alliance with Typhos, the Mother of all Monsters. She is returning to the world slowly, and William Gabriel has assisted in that. First, he rebuilt a temple for her. From there, he was instrumental in defeating Calisha on the banks of Savior''s Run in Artarq.


    "Elranor used his actions to arrange an alliance between them.


    "Laevian is interested in the power of the God Triumvirate being maintained. So when I approached her for assistance in starting a slave revolt, she was happy to oblige. In fact, she has already set things here, new diseases ready to crop up at the opportune moment."


    Finn nodded, then glanced at Garrick. "Garrick, what does Coinfurth think of this?"


    "Coinfurth desires that his realm be made powerful and prosperous," said Garrick. "Those inefficiencies be purged from the world and all contracts fulfilled. I do not think he has paid any heed to the Calishan Harlenorian vendetta. Save insofar as it affects the economic prosperity of Sorn, of course." Then, an impulse hit Garrick, and his god made things plain.


    "Still, events are in motion to ensure our ''victory'', such as it is."


    "What events?" asked Finn.


    Garrick turned to the trees, and out of them emerged a man clad in a long black coat. It flowed dramatically around him, and he had two long knives. His hair was brown and hung low behind his head, and his blue eyes were veiled in shadow. The emblem of a white dragon was emblazoned on a broach at his neck.


    "There," said Garrick. "Sen Kaba, you are expected."


    "I don''t remember giving you any forward notice," noted Kaba.


    "Coinfurth''s schedule exists beyond mortal comprehension," replied Garrick.


    Finn clenched a gauntlet and took a step forward at that moment, but Garrick caught him by the shoulder. "Not here, Finn. Your personal vendetta has nothing to do with the present circumstances. Pursue it on your own time."


    Kaba looked at Finn scornfully. "Does your attack dog know me?"


    "His family had been loyal servants of House Kaiban for generations," replied Garrick. "When you became the head of the family, you let all of them go. His mother and father starved to death because of your actions."


    "They were my employees to keep on if I wanted," replied Kaba. "I needed to cut costs, and they were superfluous. If they couldn''t find other work, that isn''t my problem or responsibility." Garacel stared, opened his mouth, closed it, and turned away. "Garrick, I have nothing to say to this man. I''ll leave negotiations in your hands."


    And he moved off. Garrick wondered if Garacel actually trusted him. Or was he merely looking for a pretense to break whatever deal was made? Perhaps both?


    "I take it you''re in charge of this warband," said Kaba.


    "I am an authority in this army, yes," said Garrick.


    Finn looked to Garrick, then stalked off.


    "Then we have a common cause," said Sen. "My fleets are coming as we speak, but I am here to arrange an alliance."


    "If it is an alliance you desire, then I will certainly hear you out," said Garrick.


    "We require a safe beachhead upon which to land," said Sen. "This island is not well scouted. I am concerned that our enemies will launch an assault against us before we are disembarked.


    "If you were to find an ideal location for my ships and ensure Dinis cannot interfere."


    "And what do you offer us in return?" asked Garrick.


    "I will guarantee the freedom of all those who serve you," said Sen, probably lying through his teeth. "I will also allow these people to settle on these lands, so long as they pledge loyalty to House Kaba."


    "Garacel''s servants may pledge loyalty to House Kaba. But he certainly will not," replied Garrick, obligated to tell the truth. "He is, or claims to be, the Lord of Hatred and intends to rule over this domain. He will likely want the island to be ruled in his name."


    Kaba looked distantly to where Garacel was meditating. "Whatever you want. I don''t need this island. My only interest is in denying it to my enemies.


    "Do you agree?"


    "That depends," said Garrick, drawing out one of his tubes and magic quills. Laying his sword on the ground, he quickly wrote a contract with the quill, then offered it to Kaba. "Would this summarize your offer?"


    Kaba read it over carefully with the usual scowl. "Yes. That will more than suffice."


    Garrick nodded and brought it over to Garacel. "Is this contract acceptable to both of you?"


    Garacel blinked. "So that''s why you always keep paper on you."


    "Contracts are important," noted Garrick. "They are proof an agreement happened. Not merely ink on a page. Money represents value. Likewise, a contract means the binding word of both businessmen.


    "A violation is akin to using gilded coins," He offered Garacel the pen.


    Garacel read through the details with a raised eyebrow. "Far too good to be true. When someone offers you terms that are this good, they are one of two things. They are either desperate or have no intention of abiding by them."


    "Be that as it may," said Garrick, "both of you need the other for victory. So even if you intend to tear one another apart in the aftermath, this contract will serve as a means to cooperate. Which is necessary for both parties in the short term.


    "Rest assured, Coinfurth knows well those who break their agreements. And he will see them punished in time."


    Garacel looked up at Garrick. "...Very well, I will humor you. But this ''contract'' shall not be broken by my hand. Some of us consider our word of honor to be worth something." And he wrote his signature in simple, plain letters that were a bit messy, and had to try several more times. "I hate writing. My old hands were not suited for it, and I still haven''t learned the knack again."


    Garrick took the contact over to Kaba. "Garacel has agreed to your terms and vows not to break them by his hand. Though he does not altogether trust you. I will need your signature."


    Kaba drew out his own quill and drew out an elaborate and keenly made signature with a flourish. However, as he finished it and the contract went down, Garacel stood there in front of Kaba. Garrick flinched, despite himself. Garacel seemed to be the size of a mountain without changing its size. Kaba, however, looked at him with precisely the same look of mild contempt; he looked at everything.


    "Then our word is given," said Garacel, raising a hand. "Give me your hand in pledge."


    Kaba raised his hand and took Garacel''s. Something seemed to happen as they did, though Garrick was not sure what.


    The hand was lowered, and Garacel returned to normal. Kaba did not notice. "My fleet will be within sight of the shore tomorrow. Signal us with torches."


    And he moved off without a word.


    Finn came back. "... He''s going to rip that contract up as soon as he wins."


    "I''m well aware," said Garrick.


    "So what now?" asked Finn. "Do we lure him into a trap or something?"


    "No," said Garrick. "We will not break our end of the deal."


    "You''re kidding me," said Finn. "We don''t have to break it, per se; we just give him a disembarking point that isn''t all that great. Maybe put it somewhere that Sahshir can see."


    "We will follow both the spirit and letter of the contract so far as it goes," said Garrick.


    "You''re not serious," said Finn. "Garacel, what do you think of all this?"


    "We have agreed to provide Kaba with a landing point and a safe entry onto the island. And we will provide him with that," said Garacel as a messenger arrived. "It is bad form to break agreements. In letter or spirit. What news, Baj?"


    "Master Garacel, we have erected the symbols you taught us to," said Baj. "As you said, we are expanding the defenses. I have not built walls and houses in ages."


    "You were an architect?" asked Finn.


    "Yes," said Baj. "I was taken as a slave by the raids of Argath Marn and sold in the markets of Sorn. From one master to another, I was sold until I came here.


    "I had a... comfortable life. Better than those who worked in the field.


    "But I had no power. Garacel gave me a chance for real power. Thus I escaped and joined the gangs of slaves. I had them build these hidden enclaves on behalf of Garacel. When that rebellion was crushed, I took over leadership.


    "Now, at last, we will come into our own.


    "Still, many of them are... afraid. They are concerned we''ll be destroyed, and they are mourning the older slaves and the weak-"


    "Embrace your hate," said Garacel. "Hate makes one strong. It drives one to move on, even when there is no hope. We will see the slavers and planters of this island burn by our hands. Those who betray us will suffer the same fate.


    "Only when you have driven out all doubt and embraced the destruction of your enemies can your mind be clear. Know their weaknesses and your own. Know their plans and your own."Then use those things to destroy them.


    "Garrick, you will take your warriors and less experienced militia." Garacel did not refer to them as ''slave militia.'' Instead, "Signal the invasion and ensure a favorable wind."


    "What about us?" asked Baj.


    "I''ll deal with Sahshir myself," said Garacel.


    "We do not have the forces to defeat Sahshir behind his defenses," noted Garrick.


    "We need only contain him," said Garacel. "And I can achieve that without an army."


    "There is one other thing, Lord Garacel," said Baj.


    "Speak freely," said Garacel.


    "Many of our Kalthakians have abandoned the camp," said Baj. "They left with a large supply of fruit. They are headed for the port."


    Desertion? Sahshir must have been arranging for the freedom of his former subjects. That could be a problem. But Garacel smiled. "So much, the better. It will be the straw that drives Sahshir into my hands."

 Chapter 247 - Twenty-Four: Dues to Pay

    It had taken work days, and every moment had been more complex than the next.


    Sahshir strongly suspected they were all heading for disaster. With the uncanny silence from the slaves, this suspicion grew more robust. Several more skirmishes were fought. These were largely inconclusive as his men scoured the island.


    "Is everything prepared?" asked Sahshir of Narcissa by the docks.


    "Yes, Sahshir, for the last time," said Narcissa, flipping through pages. "We''ve commandeered five merchants'' vessels for our use. And we''ve conscripted sailors to help us. We''ve got a crew of twenty on each, besides my troops. We should get to Nagos and, with any luck, bring him back.


    "This isn''t really my thing. Alkela has always been better at records and such." She sighed. "I hope you know what you''re doing with this."


    "Don''t worry," said Sahshir in amusement. "If I don''t, none of us will be alive to bear the shame of defeat."


    Narcissa didn''t smile; if anything, she looked more annoyed. "Why did Nagos have to leave when he did?"


    "He couldn''t have known another fleet would come," noted Sahshir.


    "But he could have suspected!" said Narcissa. "He knew something like this might happen and went off to sink more fleets!"


    "You think he wanted this place to fall?" mused Sahshir.


    "He probably decided that he''d rather not protect it and go to serve the Emperor in other ways," said Narcissa. "The Emperor will not appreciate it since he''s presently a corpse. Just as planned, I''ll bet."


    "Has there been any word from our fleets?"


    Narcissa sighed. "Yes. A bird arrived for you, bearing this message from home." She drew out a scroll and offered it to Sahshir.


    Sahshir took it. "Thank you."


    Unrolling it, Sahshir saw it was from his uncle. He smiled at how he was addressed for the first time in a long time.


    King Sahshir,


    We''ve been worsted on the ocean but kept the ships intact. We Kalthakians could be better at this kind of fighting. So I''m sending out small fleets to raid shipping and have ordered them to avoid the main fleet.


    I''ve ordered the harbors fortified and dispatched Sushaki to see to the matter. In this, he has made me proud. The Sornians launched an attack, but we repulsed it and took a few of their vessels. Even so, Raj seems ill-suited as an admiral. He performs better than I would have, but most of his time is spent leading raids.


    He has gathered a lot of booty from a raid on one of the Sornian Sugar Islands. There he burned several houses and freed many slaves. I have begun training them as spearmen. They may die well, repulsing enemy invaders, but they are loyal.


    I advise that we abandon the sea war and look weak.


    Let the Sornians think us beaten and invade on land. There we may crush them at our more substantial area of fighting. We have the advantage on the home ground.


    Oh, and Western Kalthak wants to join in. They''ve asked for permission to aid our fleets. I don''t care much for the worshippers of Rammas, a son who betrays his father is unworthy. Even if that father is Baltoth. But we''ll need all the help we can get with Sorn raiding the shores. As such, I have chosen to accept their offer.


    I''d ask for your input, but by the time this gets to you, the war will be in full swing, and any orders you give will be moot.


    I hate long-distance communication,


    Your Affectionate Uncle, Asim


    Sahshir laughed. Narcissa looked up in surprise. "What is it? What''s so funny?"


    "Well, now we know why Sen Kaiban is sending a fleet after us," said Sahshir, rolling the paper up. "Raj launched raids on his islands." He didn''t feel depressed, though; all men died. Most men failed miserably. To die gloriously was a privilege.


    "We were at war with Sorn anyway," said Narcissa.


    "We were at war with House Magnious, and House Kaiban might have cheered to watch them burn," said Sahshir. "They are much like Western and Eastern Kalthak, to be honest. Now we''re contending with Sorn as a whole. They even attempted an attack on our harbors, though they were forced back." He pocketed the letter.


    "No matter. When we crush, both of them will be glorious."


    A member of the Silent Guard rushed forward and kneeled before him. Sahshir gave me leave to speak. "King Sahshir, Aresif has returned. With him are a large number of Kalthakian and Zigilithian slaves."


    Sahshir looked up in amusement. "They are not slaves anymore. We''ll see to such things after we''re done here."


    Sahshir and Narcissa marched out to meet the new arrivals before the gates. All of them were fit and young, some too young. Many saluted. "King Sahshir, we serve Baltoth in all things."


    Sahshir nodded. "Brothers, I am pleased to see you here. In the name of Baltoth, I bid you welcome, and you need not fear chains here. Aresif, are these all of them?"


    "Yes," said Aresif. "Some chose to stay with Garacel. They fear the power of Sorn, who are planning a landing."


    "Are they?" asked Sahshir. "And what part does Garacel have in it?"


    "He plans to secure a landing point for them and ensure we do not interfere," said Aresif. "Get these men weapons and let us prepare for war, Narcissa; see to your business."


    Narcissa set out that day. Sahshir had neither the time nor patience for the formality of seeing her off. He was too busy.


    Of course, while arming them, Romilis was less than happy. Neither were any of his men. "You want to give these runaway slaves weapons?" asked Romilis.


    "We need all the men we can get if we are to emerge victorious here," said Sahshir, looking on as men were given new weapons.


    "Will you at least return them to their chains when we''re done?" asked Romilis.


    Sahshir looked at him flatly. "Do you think they will fight for us under such conditions?"


    Romilis flinched under his gaze. Eventually, he looked away. "You don''t have to tell them."


    Sahshir''s hand was at his sword momentarily but halted the movement before he drew it. Sahshir calmed himself. "... Don''t ever suggest I break my word of honor again, merchant." Then he looked to Aresif. "Aresif, what is Garacel''s plan, if anything."


    "He has allied with Sen Kaba, agreeing to shield his landing," said Aresif.


    "However, he expects to be betrayed. He has some plan that accounts for this, though I need to see what it could be.


    "He has also established fortifications on a hill amid the swamps. An alliance with Laevian protects him from disease, and he is growing strong. Food is provided by bountiful plant growth."


    "Then let''s stop wasting time and attack!" said Romilis, voice desperate. "If we strike at them hard and fast, we may be able to finish the slaves once and for all!"


    "Do you not think we should deal with the Sornian invasion before we contend with a ragtag group of bandits?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    "The Sornians we can make a deal with," said Romilis. "Those slaves all need to die."


    "What of your loyalty to Dinis?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    "The Emperor is dead!" said Romilis. "His priests of Safara, we demand we treat our property as people! They tell us how we should run our own affairs and tax us to the hilt!


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    "Why should we fight to defend his nation when-"


    "You owe the Emperor your allegiance; he is my ally," said Sahshir, wishing dearly to kill the man. "I will not tolerate any further dissent. Get the militia, now. All of them. As soon as the scouts arrive, we''re marching to war."


    And so they did.


    Once again, they issued forth from the gates and were in greater numbers this time than before. Traveling in ranks, they moved on. The Dinisian militia numbered perhaps six hundred and grew as they went on. As Sahshir marched, he reflected it would be best if the colonial militia took the brunt of the assault. Cutting down on their numbers would make it easier to control this place.


    No.


    No, he would give each force the task they were best suited for.


    On they marched, and soon enough, the scouts returned. The man bowed. "King Sahshir, we''ve found their landing site. They''re sitting down on the far side of the island. Garacel has established his forces there, and they are guarding the approach."


    "How many do they number?" asked Sahshir.


    "I could not get an exact count of the Sornians, but there were nearly a thousand on the shore. Garacel has numbers larger still than what they have. Though the Sornians seem well trained and equipped."


    "Lead on," said Sahshir.


    They marched swiftly, and the Hand of Baltoth must have been driving them on, for the journey was swift. They passed wrecked homes and obliterated farms, and many colonists looked grim. But the Kalthakians cheered at the sight. Sahshir was quick to quash these celebrations, of course.


    "They are our allies, and you will not mourn their misfortune," he said. But the fact was noticed by Romilis.


    And at last, they rounded a hill and saw the fleet of House Kaiban. Even now, vessels were being unloaded of men and supplies. Their soldiers wore armor and were at the ready. It was obvious they would need to be taken off guard easily. Even now, they were assembling. Sahshir moved back to his subordinates and spoke with them each.


    "Romilus, your men will take the right flank," said Sahshir. "Aresif, take the slaves not from Kalthak and place them on the left. Marius shall form the center of the army. We''ll advance down the hill and overwhelm them in one stroke."


    "What of your forces?" asked Romilis.


    "My Kalthakians will remain in reserve," said Sahshir. "And strike wherever we see an opportunity. Unfortunately, we are not well suited to engagements of attrition."


    "Very convenient, of course," said Romilis.


    Sahshir ignored the barb.


    The army was assembled, and their forces were put into good order. Even as the assault began, however, Sorn had thrown together a battle line. Spears were lowered, and the two sides marched toward one another.


    Nearer and nearer they went, the battle seemed about to be joined. Then, suddenly, there was a signal horn blown. The colonial militia turned. They were breaking off from the battle in an organized retreat. But, before any action could be taken, the Sornians rushed forward as if expecting it.


    "Cowards!" snarled Sahshir. "They''ve withdrawn before the face of the enemy! Forward to battle!"


    Sahshir sprinted forward with all his might, trying to reach the breach in time. Sprinting ahead of his men, he leaped upon the Sornians and hacked them apart into spears. He cut down two men in a flurry of strikes, and the line slowed beneath his attacks.


    Then the rest of his men came in, and the battle was joined.


    Sahshir saw one of his men impaled through the stomach. Then the spearman had his head cut from his shoulders. A legionnaire ran a Sornian spearman through the gut and knocked back a pike. Sahshir hacked and slashed with all his might, trying to break the enemy lines.


    But these men were no frightened slaves. On the contrary, they were grim and experienced, and heavily armored. Even now, more and more men are killed. "For Sorn! For Suvvest!" They cried. "For the Coin!"


    "For Baltoth! For the Inexorable One!" howled Sahshir.


    The combat was a blur of severed limbs and the howls of the dying. The men of Kalthak fought like the Immortals of Baltoth themselves. But little by little, they were failing.


    Then it happened.


    The enemy line buckled. Looking up, Sahshir saw that Aresif had broken the left flank. But, even now, the enemy was fleeing to the sea. Soon the whole Sornian army was breaking as men withdrew.


    "They''re drawing back! Abandoning the attack!" cried Aresif, sword in hand.


    "Don''t let them break free!" said Sahshir, realizing this was a critical moment. "Kill as many as you can!"


    So they descended, cutting down all they could find. But the Sornian retreat was well-ordered. A small knot of men turned and faced them, holding them back for precious moments. Finally, their comrades got aboard the boats. Then they fled.


    The victory was theirs; now, they had to tend to the wounded.


    There were far more dead than wounded. Marius'' physicians were more than sufficient for the task, well-practiced as they were. But as Sahshir looked out over the sea, he realized that there were many fewer ships than expected. Fewer even than House Magnious had deployed before.


    "King Sahshir!" laughed Aresif. "Those cowards in the militia have been ambushed! Garacel caught them while they were fleeing and killed many!"


    "Why are you celebrating?" asked Sahshir. "We have been betrayed. Romilis had arranged this beforehand. I must head back to the city. Sen Kaba has already raised his banner over it. Marius, take command and possession of these supplies.


    "My guard and I will scout matters out." Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sahshir hated being right.


    There was House Kaiban''s symbol, as it had looked in the books. A white dragon on a purple background. And on the walls were many men with crossbows and armor.


    "A diversion," said Aresif.


    And then Garacel appeared in a mist of black smoke, as expected. "Yes. And it is the seeds of ever greater hatred."


    "We have a common enemy," said Sahshir flatly.


    Garacel blinked. "You are perceptive. What makes you sure I am not Kaba''s ally?"


    "He would not have convinced Romilis to betray us if he did not intend to put your people back in chains," said Sahshir. "And you would not have been standing by to ambush the militia if you hadn''t at least counted on the fact.


    "I merely assumed you were here to ask for an alliance."


    "You go on too fast," said Garacel. "Kaba''s failure is not yet complete."


    And he motioned with the Blade of Chaos. As he did, an image appeared before Sahshir and Aresif. It was Lieutenant Garrick walking through the streets of the city. Men were being treated for injuries there by the women. Heavily armed soldiers patrolled the streets.


    And there was Kaba, or so Sahshir assumed by his long coat and how others spoke carefully. He was sitting at a table, writing quickly in elegant handwriting as Garrick stood before him.


    Kaba pretended to take no notice of Garrick as he waited. It may have been an effort to intimidate. It worked on some of the other hangers-on; they looked nervous. But Garrick simply stood there, expression flat and emotionless. He did not so much as shift as he stood there like a statue.


    "Lieutenant Garrick, you''ve returned," said Kaba, looking up.


    "Yes, I have to ensure the completion of the contract," said Garrick simply.


    "Contract?" asked Kaba, a smile coming to his face.


    "An agreement was made between you and Garacel," said Garrick. "We would ensure your forces could land, and in exchange, this area would be set up as an independent island." He looked to Romilis, who stood by Kaba''s left side. "Obviously, the situation has changed. I believe we should renegotiate the terms of the agreement."


    "There will be no negotiation," said Kaba. "Garacel''s ''people'' are stolen property. They were never his to negotiate on behalf of in the first place. The deal was made under false pretenses." And he went back to writing as and pretended to take no more notice of him.


    "You who have gone behind Garacel''s back to ally with his enemies speak of false pretense?" asked Garrick. Kaba held Garrick''s stare, and the two just looked at each other.


    Kaba shifted in a sign of unease. "If you have nothing else to say, leave my presence."


    Garrick drew out a scroll and unrolled it. "I have here a signed contract of Coinfurth you put your name on. By signing this, you acknowledged Garacel as the legitimate steward of his people. It is implicit in the agreement.


    "He provided a service by diverting your enemies. You still need to give the agreed-upon payment. Indeed, you have already promised what you owe him to those you agreed to exterminate. This does not seem legal to me."


    Kaba suddenly looked up, and his smile had totally faded. "Legal?" he asked. "The law is a tool the rich use to control the poor. Nothing more. It has no actual meaning beyond that."


    "You have not had your throat cut by those who shave you," noted Garrick. "So clearly, it has some meaning. I think you would be long dead in a world without contracts."


    "Maybe so," said Kaba, "but you seem to have the wrong idea about the purpose of contracts. You may think that laws, morals, and religions are all things that bind the world together.


    "They don''t.


    "Power and money hold the world together. The Great Noble Houses of Sorn like to tell themselves that they''re superior to the sheep they cheat. They makeup concepts like nobless oblige or the Suvvestian code. They argue about precedents and such so they can feel smug.


    "In the end, though, they''re all fools.


    "I don''t deal with things without profit. I don''t stand to profit from those savages not being enslaved. And since you cannot enforce the worthless scrap of paper in front of you, I''m cutting costs."


    "You may make what excuses you will, Kaba. However, you have signed your signature on a document of trade," said Garrick. "You will pay the agreed-upon sum or renegotiate your contract. If you do not, it will be considered a breach." How had he made that sound terrifying?


    Kaba snatched the contract from his hand and tore it apart. "To hell with your contract. I am rich, and they are poor."


    "And you will learn that money is only symbolic of value," replied Garrick.


    The wind howled, and Garrick drew his sword. The massive blade shot down as a thunderbolt, and Kaba rolled aside. The ground cracked where it smote the cobblestones, and a pit was delved into the earth. Kaba drew out his knives, and then Garrick was on him with a feral snarl on his face. Two guards in full armor barred his path and were cut clean in half with one blow. Kaba ducked behind a pillar to avoid Garrick''s next stroke. The pillar shattered, and stones flew around them.


    As Garrick advanced, Kaba hurled a knife, which was easily deflected. Guards came from around, yet Garrick swung his sword in great arcs. Each one cleaved through armor and flesh and bone-like string. He seemed veiled now in a golden light so that he seemed now a statue of precious metal.


    In terrible fury, the Knight of the Coin advanced on Kaba. Corpses and blood were everywhere as men cowered before the face of Coinfurth. Kaba, however, remained composed and expressionless. He drew out two more long knives and took a stance.


    Garrick seemed about to rush at him.


    Then he halted as if a voice was speaking to him. "Your debts will be paid. In this life. Or the next." Then the winds howled as a hurricane, and Garrick disappeared in a shower of gold. "Coinfurth will collect his due."


    And the only remnant of his presence was the winds, which continued long after.

 Chapter 248 - Twenty-Five: New Alliances

    The vision ended, and silence reigned between them.


    Sahshir considered making a speech about having a common enemy. Thoughts occurred to him of elaborate poetic flourishes. He could invoke grand conceptions of hatred put aside and the glory of cooperation. He might cite Garacel as a worthy opponent and his bravery and cunning. Or note that they shared a common enemy. Defeat and friendship were said to go hand in hand at times. But no one around needed to hear it, and Sahshir had no desire to be social. So he merely kept on looking at Garacel flatly.


    "Why did he kill the guards and not Kaba?" asked Sahshir. "It would have solved a great many problems."


    "For us, yes," said Garacel. "Unfortunately, not for Garrick. He is a Knight of the Coin, an order gradually failing. The Great Houses pay lip service to Coinfurth but regard his servants as sheep.


    "If Garrick were to assassinate Kaba, it would be political," said Garacel. "It could throw Sorn''s war effort into disarray and draw the ire of the Great Houses on his order.


    "Instead, he made a show of force and prophecied the downfall of Kaba. I expect Coinfurth will withdraw his support now. Kaba is too influential in destroying directly, but the seeds of his end may be sewn now.


    "Where did you send Narcissa?"


    "To get help from King Nagos against you," said Sahshir, reflecting the measure was wasted now. "It is something of a moot point now, isn''t it? So what are your plans?"


    Garacel crossed his arms and smiled as his gaze turned to the swamps. "I have erected fortifications in the swamps that will suffice. They are now under the protection of Laevian and Elranor. We may establish ourselves there.


    "Follow me."


    "Not without my men," replied Sahshir, refusing to go into the lion''s den alone. "We will meet with my warriors first."


    Garacel nodded and walked behind him. Together they strode back across the island, leaving the city behind them. As they walked, Sahshir reflected that Garacel''s prediction would likely come true. Mass death would soon consume this world, and he saw little way that it could be prevented.


    Gods did not make idle threats.


    But it is possible to save some of those on this island. Though his own men must come first. Perhaps Garacel had picked up on these thoughts because they infuriated him.


    Soon enough, they came back to the camp.


    There, Marius established a camp and erected walls around the supplies. A small fort had been found here. It had a trench surrounding a palisade reinforced by hills of dirt and trenches. Each of his soldiers carried several stakes which could be planted in the ground to form a wall. No trees had been hewed from the nearby forests. Cesspits were being dug, and there was a source of fresh water in a stream coming out of the hills. It looked like refugees of all kinds had come to them for shelter.


    Marius met him at the gate, adjusting his blade in the sheathe. "Sahshir, you''ve returned. Unfortunately, we have a problem, don''t we?"


    "Yes, Marius," said Sahshir. "The capital is held against us. How are our men?"


    "Most are healed, and we''ve gathered supplies as we could find," said Marius. "Since we set up here, refugees have come from the surrounding lands. But unfortunately, not everyone was able to escape to the city.


    "I''m not comfortable leaving them here.


    "What are your orders?"


    "Garacel and we have a common enemy," said Sahshir. "I will take my personal forces and meet up with his troops. You will remain here and fortify your position. It should give Kaba something to attack.


    "You can hold him in place long enough for us to strike from behind."


    "We are the legions," said Marius simply. "No Sornian mercenary shall pass out the shield wall."


    "Good," said Sahshir before glancing at Garacel. "Garacel, you will lead us into the swamp. First, however, I will need your sword to show good faith. It will be held by Marius until such time as the battle is over."


    Garacel halted momentarily, clenched the Blade of Chaos, and drew it out. "Very well." The Blade of Chaos gleamed as Marius took it, and his hands visibly sagged. There was a howl and a snarl from it. Marius drew out his sword and offered it to Garacel, who took it without expression. "I will expect it back, of course."


    "Are you certain of this?" asked Marius.


    "I am certain I can kill him before he can escape," said Sahshir. "And I doubt he has anything to gain by turning on us. We have a much greater enemy to face." Then he turned to Garacel, who was testing the weight of the blade.


    "We have much work to do," said Garacel after a moment.


    And so they set out.


    The marshes were filthy, stank to high heaven, and were infested with flies. But, oddly enough, none of the flies went after them. Instead, they strode through the water, and the worst of the muck seemed to shrink away from them.


    "You have an alliance with the spirits of this place," guessed Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Garacel. "One long in the making. With Laevian taking my part, I have complete dominion over these lands.


    "Often, slaves have dwelled here in hiding for some years. There are villages within this place, where many have spent long years hiding. The slavers are forbidden to cut these woods, you see."


    "And how do you know of them?" asked Sahshir.


    Garacel tossed Marius'' blade into the air, then caught it halfway down. "During my years of service to Zigildrazia, I came here often. I created the communities within this place and kept them hidden.


    "See here."


    He pointed to a tree, and looking at it, Sahshir perceived a faint symbol, half-covered by green moss. As they drew near, the character shone brilliantly for a moment. Then, the earth rose from the mud, revealing a stairway.


    "What is this?" asked Sahshir. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "A spell cast long ago thanks to deals with the spirits," said Garacel. "Come, we have much to discuss."


    Together they descended the staircase and were greeted by a deformed man. One wearing many garments. With him were dozens upon dozens of men with spears trained on them. "Lord Garacel, you''ve returned. Are these those you spoke of?"


    "Indeed they are, Baj," said Garacel. "My servants, we now face a common enemy. For as I foresaw, the Sornians have betrayed us. Even now, their scouts are streaming through the lands, looking for us. So bring clothes and food for them.


    "But, there is time yet."


    "I would know your plans, Garacel," said Sahshir,.glancing back to his guard.


    "Then let us speak of them elsewhere," said Garacel. "You need not fear me here."


    "I fear nothing," said Sahshir. Death was inevitable; what did it matter if it came a year or two early? Garacel''s assurances were as meaningless as water pouring into sand.


    Garacel smiled. Sahshir didn''t see what was amusing, and he didn''t particularly care. "As you say. Come with me."


    Sahshir glanced back and motioned an order. The samurai nodded and dispersed.


    "Not a talkative bunch, are they?" asked Garacel.


    "They are the Silent Guard," said Sahshir. "Samurai, who has sworn never to speak so long as they serve in the Royal Guard. Speech is only permitted them when making reports, and their names are not to be spoken."


    "What purpose could that serve?" asked Garacel.


    "A man who cannot speak cannot plot against his master," said Sahshir. "It is also a form of monkhood."


    "Both debatable statements," mused Garacel. "Though I imagine it would make things more difficult. Would you care for something to drink? There is little here, but such as they have is yours."


    "No," said Sahshir flatly.


    Garacel eyed him carefully as Sahshir sipped from his waterskin. His expression was unreadable, and his eyes were hard. "You hate me, don''t you, Sahshir? I might inquire as to why. Aside from defeating that priestess in fair battle, what crime have I committed-"


    "You slaughtered an entire city," replied Sahshir. "You unleashed armies of monsters on those you were meant to protect. Then, for the sake of your designs, you exterminated your own subjects."


    "Zigildrazia''s subjects, and it was Zigildrazia''s will," said Garacel. "Do you Kalthakians not maintain that loyalty to a lord is the great virtue."


    "A lord has obligations of their own," said Sahshir. "You betrayed your people. As did Zigildrazia."


    "Perhaps you should ask them if they are furious as you are," noted Garacel.


    "They should be," said Sahshir simply. "You have no right to call yourself a lord."


    "And I do not," said Garacel. "Others gave me that title. Can you say the same, Kalthakian?


    "The people of Zigilus devoted themselves wholly to Zigildrazia. They understand well that they were hers to use or break as she saw fit. Therefore, you will not find any moral outrage from them."


    "They will have it when Baltoth restores them to as they should be," replied Sahshir.


    For the first time, Garacel looked angry as he turned to Sahshir. "Baltoth? Baltoth crucifies thousands of his subjects as he praises his enemies. Baltoth, who has a harem of thousands and yet who denies his subjects more than one wife.


    "He has no idea what things should be, for he is an aberration. The one true God, Valranor, was usurped by him. But the day shall come when Valranor shall rise again, and on that day, those who aid Baltoth shall die with him.


    "His curse is on him even now."


    "That day will never come," replied Sahshir simply. "And if it does, you shall never see it. For I will slay you someday. Though my body may fail me, my spirit shall see you dead."


    "Then try yourself against me when we no longer have a common enemy," said Garacel. He shrugged in resignation and checked the sword at his side. "This is a fine sword." Then he glanced to where Baj had crept up. "What news, Baj?"


    "The Sornians are marching toward our strongholds," said Baj. "Sen Kaba is filling in the marsh with bags of sand, and the militia is working with him. Others have dispatched messages to Marius, seeking to negotiate his surrender. In addition, Kaba''s forces are establishing a perimeter of walls outside the fort.


    "Even as we speak, he is bringing in more troops from his fleet."


    "Then we will have enough time. Laevian''s diseases may serve us well here," said Garacel.


    Sahshir contemplated this. He considered that Kaba had divided his forces. If things continued like this, they''d have a lengthy war. One with massive cost to all sides, culminating in a meaningless truce. Even if won, it would only result in the will of Garacel being fulfilled.


    Sahshir contemplated what he knew of Kaba. From this, he concluded that any deal made with him would be worthless. Any negotiations that would be worth having would require his removal. Now the question became: How could he use the fact. "I need no god of Harlenor to win my battles," said Sahshir. "Garacel, can you bring me out near their number?"


    "Baj can take you anywhere on this island unseen," said Garacel. "But if you are pursued into the swamps, I will not open the gates for you."


    "So be it," said Sahshir. "I will gain this victory without you." Then he turned to the Silent Guard. "Brothers! Samurai of Kalthak! We go to fall on our enemy while they stand guard! Any who wish to fight alongside us are welcome! Those who would remain here may cower here!"


    "I''m compelled to ask what your plan here is," noted Garacel.


    "Death or glory," replied Sahshir. "And a calculated risk."


    "Of course," said Garacel with obvious sarcasm.


    Sahshir did not expect him to understand. Nor did he want him to. Garacel deserved neither.

 Chapter 249 - Twenty-Six: Surprise Attack

    It was the edge of the swamp. From the looks, it was several hundred feet further inland than last time. Great camps of men were all along with it, and even now, in the waning light, they worked. Bags of sand was brought in and shoveled into the water. Trees were felled, and the lumber was used to build watchtowers and fortifications.


    But in most, it was thrown aside to rot. The Sornians were working to ensure their passage and destroy these lands. Given the number of bodies piled up nearby, diseases had been set on them already.


    Sen Kaba, evidently, was a practitioner of the Old Harlenorian style of warfare. Like Anoa the Bright before him, he worked to break the will of the land itself.


    "There they are," said Sahshir, glancing back to his men and motioning. "Assemble."


    Many guards were standing by some distance away from the swamp. They held long halberds and wore metal masks as well as helmets. There were runes on their armor to ward off disease. Meanwhile, Sornian workers labored against the marsh without protection.


    Vines surged upward, grabbing several slaves and pulling them into the murky water. There was a gurgling scream as men scrambled back. The guards moved toward it, a stroke of luck.


    No, the will of the gods.


    The land itself howled beneath Kaiban''s army. The spirits spoke in whispers, some pleading, some wrathful. But through the Sword of Order, Sahshir could sense Kaiban''s only reply. "Submit. Or be destroyed."


    Sahshir looked back as more guards were drawn off. The workers clustered behind them in what they thought was safety. "Now, listen to me; our task here is not to slay warriors but workers.


    "We will strike hard and kill those least armored. And when we have driven them in, we shall strike again still harder. But we shall draw back into the night when the enemy line solidifies.


    "Understand?"


    The Silent Guard nodded.


    Sahshir smiled beneath his mask. "Good. For Kalthak and Baltoth."


    And they crept forward as the sound of fighting was heard. Vines rose over the trees, and flames caught on some foliage. Screams of pain echoed as they neared the worker, who was retasked.


    "So, why are we working at all this anyway? Can''t we just let the slaves die of disease?" asked one. "Coinfurth knows enough of us have."


    "General Kaba believes that they have a deal with Laevian." said another. "Since she''s decided to pit herself against him, he wants this land ruined. So once we''ve killed all the slaves, we''ll hack down all her sacred groves and fill in the waters.


    "Teach her a lesson."


    "She''s a goddess of plague, you fool," said a third one. "You can''t teach gods anything."


    "Gods need us more than we need them," shot back the first. "So long as we''re willing to give as good as we get, we can keep ''em in check. It''ll be just like fighting a mortal enemy, only we''re fighting diseases."


    "Still, I hear Kaba had a scuffle with a Knight of the Coin," said a fourth, not seeing Sahshir as he drew near.


    "The Knights of the Coin are a bunch of relics, lad," came the reply. "Nobody cares about their precious contracts; it''s all just ink on a-"


    Sahshir stepped into the light of the fire and brought around his sword. The head fell from the speaker''s shoulders, and blood spewed. Younger men recoiled in horror. "Bassar!"


    "For Calisha!" cried Sahshir.


    And then the attack began.


    They were not fighting armed men but workers without weapons beyond knives. Most were likely conscripts, and they fell quickly. Sahshir hacked and slashed ahead of his warriors, killing as many as he could. Some scattered and ran, only to be caught by birds that pecked out their eyes. Others tried to hold back the tide and were slaughtered in mere moments.


    "Press the attack! Let none survive!" cried Sahshir. "We are the retribution of the Gods! None shall withstand us!"


    They charged into the camp, slashing down men where they were resting. Guards rushed to delay them while others went for weapons, and the battle began. Sahshir slashed apart a spear and stabbed through a gap in his enemy''s armor. The man screamed in agony, falling backward.


    Around them, the enemy began to form up, grasping weapons and rising.


    "The slaves! The slaves are upon us!" cried someone.


    Sahshir saw the guards of the slavers coming from the swamp to aid the defenders. But out of the shadows came Garacel, taking to the air and cleaving down two. With him came the slaves, and the reinforcements were forced to turn and fight.


    Then began the slaughter.


    Sahshir killed all who stood before him and saw his men slay many. But soon enough, they were facing stiffer resistance. Already he could see some of his men dying. Garacel''s slaves were held in place, and many were dying. They had killed many, but the defense was growing too strong.


    "Pull back!" called Sahshir. "Back to the swamps, quickly!" And drawing a horn from his side, he sounded the retreat.


    Back they went, like phantoms, leaving behind them many corpses. Garacel''s men drew back, repulsed by the defense. Arrows shot over their sides as they entered the marsh, but no man dared follow beyond the light of the torches.


    Sahshir stood vigil at the edge, looking over the camp.


    Sen Kaba came forward, speaking to the men and organizing the healing of the sick and injured. His face remained expressionless as he drew near alongside Romilis.


    "This kind of operation is dangerous, Lord Kaba," said Romilis. "I did say that the slaves could emerge suddenly."


    "The losses are easily replaceable," said Kaba. "With the soldiers dead, we need not worry about paying them at war''s end. Instead, take the bodies and feed them to the swamp. Let the spirits choke on the dead."


    Romilis shuddered. "Sir, Sahshir is a dangerous enemy. It may be wise to seek terms of a sort with him. Let him leave with his men."


    "My negotiations with Marius are already underway," said Kaba. "Once Dinis is no longer a concern, a few black-skinned savages will be nothing." He looked to where the bodies of the men were being hurled into the water for fish and flies. "I''m more than pleased with the results.""Pleased?" asked Romilis. "Surely, this raid was a defeat."


    "Sahshir''s men escaped largely unscathed," said Sen Kaba, "but we killed many slaves. They aren''t trained soldiers and are poorly equipped. A few more victories like this, and they''ll be totally eradicated."


    "Then who will work the fields?" asked Romilis flatly. "Need I remind you that this island will be economically devastated for years as things stand. Kill all the slaves, and Sorn may not benefit from this conquest in your lifetime."


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    "I''ve captured many slaves in my raids," said Kaba. "Once the situation is settled, I will transfer some of them to your people as a loan. Though I''ll expect interest for it."


    "Ah," said Romilis, voice holding an edge. "Well, I suppose that will profit you, at least."


    "Do you have a suggestion for how this campaign should be conducted?" asked Sen Kaiban. "Or are you just going to whine at me?"


    "Make a deal with Sahshir," said Romilis. "I''m already in communication with Dinis. With the Emperor dead, they want to end the war as quickly as possible."


    "I''m sure they are," said Kaba, "but I want Chaminus."


    "Yes, we all have a lot of things, don''t we?" snapped Romilis. "Nagos has devised weapons that make his fleet more powerful than the entire Dinis navy. Moreover, he is close friends with Sahshir, who is young and impetuous. If I were him, and Dinis demanded I cede my island to you...


    "I might just try to go down fighting."


    "Are you implying something?" asked Kaba, voice hard.


    "No," said Romilis. "Just stating a fact. The first thing he did after becoming King of Chaminus was abolish slavery. All while providing compensation for all those who lost slaves. Nagos will hear about what happened here. He will know that you broke your deal with Garacel."


    "As I said, the deal was made under false pretenses-" began Kaiban.


    "Nagos doesn''t care about your technicalities; he hates everything you represent," said Romilis. "And he is an undefeated war leader who led a token force to confront House Magnious'' fleets. If you go to Dinis and demand they cede Chaminus, one of two things will happen. First, they may refuse, and the war will continue. In such a situation, Nagos'' dominance in the sea would make a land invasion of Dinis your best hope.


    "There is a rule about starting a land war in Dinis. Never do it.


    "Alternatively, they may yield Chaminus to you. In that case, Nagos will simply raise a rebellion against you. Chaminus is guarded by a mighty dragon sworn to defend its shores. In which case, you will lose entire fleets, meaning Dinis will likely come back to try and take it.


    "Or, Calisha will make Nagos an offer. They are expanding their influence.


    "Unless Nagos is defeated tomorrow, which I do not believe likely, our best solution is to seek a truce. The advantage may be lost to us soon. Once peace is restored, we can work to learn Nagos'' secrets or find a counter."


    "...And what would you recommend we do?" asked Seth.


    "Garacel and Sahshir are sworn enemies," said Romilis. "Once Marius has received confirmation from his government, I doubt he will want to remain. So let him take his people and get out with the legions.


    "Once Marius and Sahshir are gone, that leaves only Garacel and his slaves. We can take our time putting down the revolt. Calisha may even be convinced to aid us, given their enmity with Garacel."


    "...Fine then," said Kaba, "I''ll consider making an alliance with the leper. But I''ll do so in my own way."


    "Don''t underestimate Sahshir," hissed Romilis. "His people are talented warriors, and he is far more intelligent than most. If you break a deal with him, he isn''t just going to swear the gods will avenge it. Instead, he will become the instrument of that vengeance.


    "The man speaks casually of wounding gods and commands the respect of the legions!


    "Make a deal with him and abide by the terms. That''s my advice." S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Kaba scoffed and walked away.


    Sahshir made his way into the swamp. As he did, he reflected that he still respected Romilis. The man had been acting to preserve his culture. Besides, Sahshir''s authority was arguably gone with the death of Octovus.


    He had gotten through to Kaba, probably.


    But Sahshir suspected that Kaba would want to make the deal a display of dominance. That got him thinking. If Kaba betrayed the rules of the parley, Sahshir would be justified in killing him. Or perhaps taking him captive.


    It was a matter worthy of consideration.


    For now, there was a victory celebration to plan.


    It seemed Garacel had already made the preparations for said celebration. It involved much alcohol and many young women from the villages. Sahshir began to suspect that the slaves freed from bondage were mere cannon fodder. Meant to do the dying so that the people Garacel had already indoctrinated could take the land.


    Many of them worshipped Zigildrazia.


    Morale was unexpectedly high, actually.


    Garacel''s warriors had taken many casualties, but they hardly minded. Men and women had come from the slave villages spoken of and brought with them wine. Naturally, Sahshir and his men took no part in the resulting festivities. He dearly wished he had a priest to preach the destructive nature of alcoholism.


    Unfortunately, he did not. Or not one that could speak without breaking vows.


    So he settled for addressing his warriors and those who had marched with him in battle.


    "Warriors, we will fast for a day and a night thanks to Baltoth for the victory. Those of you who do not worship Baltoth are, of course, exempt."


    "Why do you fast?" asked Garacel, who was practicing his handwriting.


    "Food, while necessary, can distract one from the true nature of reality," said Sahshir. "All things are at their fullest when according to His will.


    "By fasting after a victory, we free our spirits from worldly obsessions. In so doing, we gain the strength to win many others.


    "Now, let us pray."


    Drawing his sword, he kneeled and laid it before him. The Silent Guard did the same, and Sahshir raised his hands. "Baltoth, the Inexorable One, we thank you for our enemies'' blood spilling across the field. We ask that you infuse us with your will so that we might drive the enemies of Calisha before us. Let us see their armies shattered, their lands despoiled by your will. And their women were brought into the fold.


    "Your anger burns greater than heaven''s lights and hellfire''s depths. Your retribution is like a thousand other gods. So grant us victory, and we shall hail your name." He opened his eyes and saw that others had looked on. "Our prayer is done. Now, cleanse yourself and see to your weapons."


    "What a remarkable prayer. As if Baltoth might grant any of it," said Garacel, putting down his brush.


    "Baltoth has never been defeated on the battle field," said Sahshir.


    "Yes, he has. I did it myself, and Vanion Gabriel did it this year," said Garacel.


    "Such victories as seem defeats are in reality greater deception," replied Sahshir. "Baltoth allows his enemies to gain the field, that they might in time become his. Or be destroyed by their own reckless hubris. All things are done as he wills them, and though some may defy him, they cannot escape their fate."


    "Nor can he," noted Garacel. "For is not Baltoth doomed to die by the hand of the Heir of Kings?"


    "Prophecy is, but His will incarnate," said Sahshir. "If it fails, then it shall serve as proof that Baltoth is beyond fate, above sight and sound. Yet if it succeeds, it shall be but a temporary defeat. One that helps only to make his ultimate victory all the more significant.


    "For he is beyond death."


    "A careful web of delusions you have set yourself in," said Garacel. "No man may escape fate. What has been preordained shall come to pass, whatever struggles one makes."


    "And yet one can change the context of that fate," noted Sahshir.


    "Context?" laughed Garacel. "There is only our actions and our end. So the context is irrelevant."


    "There was once a King of Kalthak who read a prophecy that his firstborn son would one day kill him," said Sahshir. "Knowing that he could not escape his fate, this King ruled as benevolently as he could. He raised his son on ideals of honor and justice. No man was homeless or unhappy in his domain, and the fate that was his doom seemed inevitable.


    "Then the firstborn son murdered him and seized the throne for his own. The King died, but ever after, was lamented. The son was hated and despised for his wicked act, and soon his tyranny was overthrown.


    "The King could have succumbed to fear and tried to kill his son. He might have sought to root out all who opposed him. But instead, he sought righteousness and died well and mourned by thousands. His deeds and actions were within his control."


    "And what of the son? Was he not fated to slay his father?" asked Garacel.


    "Had he stayed true to his path, he might have had a better fate. Then, perhaps one day, killed him while hunting. Then he could have mourned him as a son should," said Sahshir. "If he had done so, he might have become a good king in his own right."


    "I remember Ezek all too well," noted Garacel with a smile. "As I remember his father. And your people are not his. You came from Dinis, fleeing Safara. You destroyed that kingdom, killed the men, enslaved the women, and laid waste to all you found.


    "Then, as your bloodlines mingled, you invented new stories. Delusions meant to paint yourselves as the rightful heirs of land you stole. You robbed them of their history to cover up your own history of barbarism. Now you stand before me. You act like you have some right to the ground upon which your huts stand."


    "All things are afforded to the gods to decide," said Sahshir without apology. "It was Baltoth''s will that we should gain victory. And Baltoth''s will that the Naminese should be overthrown. Our bloodlines have mingled, and from each race, their strengths have combined." He took up his sword and rose. "We are Kalthakians. We fear no enemy."


    "I am Garacel. And fear is consumed with itself at my name," said Garacel, rising to meet his gaze.


    For a moment, they held the gaze. Sahshir felt Garacel''s will on him as the men stood transfixed. Finally, Sahshir decided the contest served no purpose and sheathed his sword. "We shall see. We must send Baj to reach Marius and tell him to draw out negotiations.


    "If Narcissa can return Nagos, the battle shall turn against Kaba rapidly.


    "Tomorrow''s raid awaits."

 Chapter 250 - Twenty-Seven: Dark Future

    Nagos, as he turned out, was a very different person away from the spotlight.


    Often Narcissa would find him awake at night, looking over maps and routes with sad eyes. Other times he would write orders or develop plans for this and that. But he was his old self when he was near any of his men.


    It was... concerning. Narcissa wondered if Nagos had a true self at all or if he was like a mirror. One that only showed you what you wanted to see. And that brought up questions.


    Did Nagos care about his nation or his friends? Or was it an act? Narcissa had always known that Sahshir was not... empathetic. He did not care about people so much as act as one would if they cared. Was Nagos the same?


    Alike, yet different.


    Narcissa had little to say in these meetings. Usually, she asked questions and kept her gaze open. Yin was a very competent officer, but Nagos seemed better than he pretended. Or perhaps he was learning from Yin, and she saw the end result.


    "If I''ve guessed correctly," said Nagos one day in his office, "Aridius will want to marry Octavus'' mother. What was her name? The arrogant, proud, beautiful lady. That''ll let him stake himself as Emperor.


    "And if not him, someone else will want to do it. So marrying her will give them a sort of legitimacy." He finished writing a sheet of paper and sealed it before walking out of the cabin to hand it to a messenger bird. "That''s why, if she hasn''t already left, I''ll surely have her detained.


    "It''ll give me bargaining power." Was Nagos planning to try becoming Emperor? That seemed like something other than something he could accomplish.


    "Won''t she have left as soon as she heard of her son''s death?" asked Narcissa. Despite herself, she felt at least a bit of sympathy toward the woman. Yes, she was arrogant and insufferable, but she''d lost her only son. And now people view her as a chess piece on a board, not a human.


    Then again, judging her as a human might be doing her no favors.


    "I ordered that she be kept completely out of the loop once Aridius left. So I doubt it," said Nagos after a moment. "Chaminus has been telling her what she wants to hear for months. Her personal servants were easy to corrupt; they all hate her."


    "So what are you going to do?" asked Narcissa. She was curious to know if she liked this side of Nagos right now.


    Nagos shifted in his seat, falling into silence momentarily as his eyes narrowed. The moment stretched into eternity until Narcissa thought he''d fallen into a trance. Then, finally, he looked up. "Well, first off, we need to end the war. And we have to do it quickly. The longer this drags out, the more likely Kaba or somebody else will find a way to counter us.


    "So, we''ll take drastic action."


    "What action?" asked Narcissa.


    "Not sure yet," admitted Nagos. "But it probably involves blowing things up. That''s how these things usually end. So, Admiral Yin, if the war continues, how long do you think we''ll last."


    "King Nagos," said Yin with utter conviction. "I can promise you that if we continue as we are, the remnants of a great empire will be destroyed."


    "Elegantly put, as always," said Nagos with a laugh. He sipped his tea as though to soothe nerves. "Do you mean Dinis, Sorn, or Chaminus?"


    "Yes," said Yin flatly. And the look on his face was grim.


    "Fair enough, the Calishans win, I get it," said Nagos, sipping his tea again. "No wonder Sahshir was so deadset on starting this fight. He''s pretty smart. Sorn will win, eventually, but at a massive cost. They''ll start pillaging Dinis in retribution, and Chaminus will probably be destroyed.


    "All our people will be enslaved or killed; Kaba will rip up our sacred statues and send them back to Sorn.


    "They''ll be put in some hall or something where he shows guests. Maybe get patted on the back for being so cultured.


    "Then Calisha won by doing nothing," He paused and smiled. "Fortunately, I have countermeasures in place. That''s why I sent letters to Ruscow."


    "Ruscow?" asked Narcissa. "Why would you send letters to the capital of Calisha? They''re not even involved in the war. Sahshir is acting on his own."


    "I''m asking them to mediate an end to the conflict," said Nagos. "If Baltoth intercedes to end this, we might get out alive. And if we can sell the Empress Mother to whoever stands up as the next Emperor...


    "We may actually get out, alright."


    "We must consider what to do if the war continues," said Yin, leaning back in his seat. "One must always seek the best outcome and prepare for the absolute worst."


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    "Then..." Nagos paused. "What do you recommend, Yin?"


    "Given the stakes of what will happen if we lose, escalation may be in order," said Yin. "We might kill so many Sornians that the soldiers stab their officers and riot. Sometimes that happens if the upper classes are out of touch enough."


    "No, no, if we do that, we''ll be hated," said Nagos. "The next war will come, and they''ll wipe us out then. They''ll recover a lot faster than Dinis will.


    "That''s why I''ve been trying to save so many sailors when I sink the ships. It means they''ll talk about my mercy and such and spread the word about my victories. So I''m trying to appeal to the best in people."


    "Perhaps," said Yin, "but our enemies are by nature the worst people in Sorn. Kaba and his ilk do not care about morality, profit, or domination. Beauty and good are inconveniences to them or, at best, tools by which they may manipulate the masses.


    "People they regard as sheep to be led to the slaughter."


    "How do you know that?" asked Narcissa. "Have you met him?"


    "The measure of a man is in what he does," said Yin. "We have met him wherever his machinations extend. I need not listen to his sneering to know he holds life in contempt. His actions tell us that much."


    "Yes, I know," said Nagos. "But if we weaken Kaba enough, the more reasonable noble classes may come to power. Then, they might be willing to come to an agreement."


    "They will be under pressure from the common people," said Yin. "The merchants of Sorn justify their brutality by appealing to the love of country. Therefore, every victory we win will be regarded as an insult to the honor of Sorn, regardless of context.


    "Even if it is more profitable for them to cut their losses, they will be obligated to keep fighting you. Or the masses they hold in contempt will riot."


    "Then we''ll break the masses!" snapped Nagos. "We''ll relieve Sahshir and free Macshore.


    "If they don''t make a deal with us before then..." He looked down at the table. "We''ll take the fleet to the capital of Sorn, Suvera. It''s situated between the sea and their silver mines.


    "They''ll have to engage us then. We''ll sink every fleet they throw at us once we''re there..."


    Then he leaned against the deck and stared out over it. "We''ll shell the Golden City into dust. Then we''ll go along the shore and blast every fishing village and coastal town."


    Yin hesitated. "King Nagos, such an action would kill thousands. Tens of thousands, and without fishing villages, even more would starve. It could..."


    "Destroy Sorn completely. I know. If we lose, our entire culture, our people, all of it will be destroyed for the sake of money," said Nagos. "I don''t want to escalate to the level of Sorn. But if it becomes them or us...


    "I am willing to utterly and completely annihilate their nation if it means saving my own." Then suddenly, Nagos shuddered and fell back from his seat onto the ground, shaking as if struck. Narcissa rose up and ran to his side, kneeling. "Nagos!"


    Nagos went still before rising. "Just fine; I''m being what people need me to be," said Nagos. Then he moved over to the window and looked down toward the sea. "I swear I saw a light down there."


    "Light?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes," said Nagos. "Have I ever told you how I met the Fish King?"


    "No," said Narcissa, "you haven''t."


    "Serna and I were trying our hand at fishing," said Nagos. "And my nets caught something. I tried to pull it out, but I was dragged down instead. I was pulled down into the depths, and yet I could breathe. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I could see nothing, feel nothing, hear nothing.


    "Then I saw a faint green light, and I saw what I thought was the face of a cliff made from shining stone. It was perfectly smooth, and yet it hurt the eyes to gaze at it.


    "Then it blinked.


    "Looking around, I saw Him.


    "The Fish King."


    "You mean his avatar," said Narcissa.


    "No I mean Him," said Nagos. "The Fish King is not like other gods. He poured all he was into a physical body. It rests at the very depths of the sea, sleeping. The head is like that of a squid upon a body like a man''s. He has wings like those of a dragon, but no dragon has ever had such a span.


    "When you gaze at him, you can never really know if what you''re looking at is that color or if it''s just a trick of the light. When he shifts within his slumber, tsunamis tear the shore. His gaze extends into all things, into the mind of every creature that has ever feared the unknown. We know him, and yet we desperately try not to.


    "We exist in a perpetual denial of his rising. Denial of our own nature.


    "He was ancient when the first world had not been formed. So all our lives and existence are insignificant. All that our races have been is but the merest flicker of the imagination in his mind. We are gone and forgotten in an instant. Less significant than a vial of water splashed into the ocean.


    "And one day, he will awaken."


    Narcissa blinked in surprise. As Nagos spoke, she saw no sign of him in his face. It was as if he had been snatched away. "...Is there a plan to kill him when that happens?"


    "...I suppose we could trick him and Smyngoth into getting into a fight," said Nagos. "I hear he''s due to awaken and end the world. Maybe they''ll kill each other."


    They didn''t speak much after that.


    Soon Nagos'' fleet neared Macshore and came within sight of the island. It looked a lot worse than before; the houses and buildings had begun ragged or burned. Those which hadn''t were being fortified and had troops near them. As they sailed forward and sought to lure them away, the Sornian fleet did not budge. Narcissa watched time after time as Nagos sought to bait them.


    He feigned a retreat, and they refused it. So he advanced, and they withdrew before him as others came around. Nagos had to draw back then to avoid being encircled. But the Sornians did not pursue him once he escaped.


    The day was spent like this, miserable beneath the beating sun.


    Narcissa looked at the town where she''d set out from, noticing the banner. She''d received news of what had happened here from Garacel. They had to turn this conflict around somehow. But nothing came of things but a stalemate.


    Day after day, the ships danced. More Sornian vessels arrived from elsewhere. Only to end up simply reinforcing existing lines. As the week continued, Nagos and Admiral Yin outplayed every effort to encircle them.


    Supplies were no issue, of course. Nagos had stopped to resupply before coming here.


    "We''re going to be here for a while, aren''t we?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes," said Yin, "but we''re also tying up a large part of the Sornian Fleet, leaving our allies free rein to raid. And the longer this lasts, the more likely Baltoth will intercede. So if we can drag things out, this will only go badly for our enemy."


    "Well," said Nagos, "that shouldn''t be too hard.


    "Anyone wants to play chess?"


    "Sure, why not," said Narcissa.


    This was going to be a long wait, wasn''t it?

 Chapter 251 - Twenty-Eight: Flesh and Spirit

    Baj slipped into the outpost, looking strained from his quest.


    Garacel greeted him while Sahshir polished his armor. Looking up, he saw the man bow before Garacel. Around him, soldiers looked up in resignation. The war had been going badly; lately, another attempt at a raid had been foiled. Little by little, the water was being filled in.Not that Garacel had ever ceased to be confident.


    "What news?" asked Garacel.


    "King Nagos has blockaded the port," said Baj. "Even now, they are skirmishing. As a result, Kaba has been unable to bring in or send out more ships or supplies."


    "I see," said Garacel. "Unfortunately, the news elsewhere is not as good."


    "Our raids have become less successful. However, it is only a matter of time before Kaba finds our fortifications," mused Sahshir. "Or worse still, our secret passages.


    "Then let him," said Aresif, who had recently returned to Sahshir''s side.


    "Let him?" asked Garacel, looking at the old man.


    "Lead him directly to our defenses. Give him something to attack," said Aresif with a shrug. "Let us die gloriously in battle rather than huddled like slaves."


    "As fine a plan as any. Laevian''s spells shall not last forever," mused Garacel, though he did not seem keen on doing it.


    "Kaba must be under pressure as well, surely," said Sahshir, moving on to another piece.


    "By now, he has probably already requested aid from the other Sornian Fleets." mused Garacel. "Either they''ll attack something Nagos has to defend, or they''ll engage him. In the latter''s case, his advantage relies on mobility, and now they know where he''ll be."


    "In the case of the former, they will head to Chaminus," guessed Sahshir. "Sen Kaba hates Nagos. And I doubt any other Sornian nobles are more fond of him."


    "The hatred is entirely mutual, I assure you." said Garacel, "Chaminus was beginning to establish a new empire long ago. That was before the people who are now known as Sornians wrecked it.


    "I believe it was under Anoa VII, if I''m not mistaken. They seized all kinds of territory. The grudge between the two peoples has been passed down through generations. Though Nagos hides his hatred behind a smile." How would he know? He''d never met the man.


    Then again, Garacel was a god.


    "They''ll have to engage the Dinis fleet to do that," said Baj. "They may have scaled back for now. But Chaminus stands between Sorn and an avenue to strike Dinis directly. They won''t give it up without a fight if they aren''t fools."


    "It may be a less daunting task than fighting Nagos at this stage," said Sahshir. He remembered the letters he''d received over the past few weeks. "Marius told me he''s received word that negotiations for a truce are being arranged as we speak."


    "What of ammunition?" asked Aresif. "Nagos is sure to run low sooner or later."


    "The details are now irrelevant," said Sahshir. "Since we have no power to influence the battle at sea, our concern must be on what we can affect. And how Nagos'' blockade has changed our circumstances."


    "The point that you all agree on is that Nagos'' blockade is temporary," said Garacel. "It may cause severe damage, but it will not win us this war.


    "Fortunately, Kaba may not know that."


    "He assumes his blockade will be long-term. At the moment, he has ample supplies. But if things are dragged out, food will run short."


    "How do you know this?" asked Sahshir.


    "I hold dominion over all hatred or most of it," said Garacel. "And Kaba holds all things that breathe in contempt, save perhaps his brother. So it is only natural that his thoughts would be laid bare to me."


    "And why are we losing then?" asked Sahshir.


    "If we had crushed Kaba immediately, he''d have gotten back to Sorn with a bloody nose. Nothing would have changed," said Garacel. "By forcing him into a prolonged campaign, I have forced Sorn to expend much treasure. All on a now worthless island.


    "Worthless in their mind, at any rate."


    "Get to the point," said Sahshir.


    "Sorn has wasted immense amounts of treasure on what was supposed to be an easy land grab," said Garacel. "And Nagos, at my suggestion, has asked Calisha to intercede. With Dinis and Sorn battered, neither one will be in a hurry to fight Calisha.


    "Baltoth will be able to arrange a favorable truce that benefits him. He will arrange for McShore to become a neutral buffer zone. As a result, my people will be able to rule themselves, and that is to my benefit."


    "And if they do not play along?" asked Sahshir.


    "Then I expect there will be a great, bloody war. One that will raise hatred to an unprecedented level" said Garacel. "Harlenor will then become involved to prevent Sorn from losing. That would naturally draw Calisha in on the side of Dinis, given negotiations. So Calisha will be weakened, as will Dinis and Sorn, and that benefits me. And I may raise the powers of my subjects on this and other islands to fight the tyrants seeking to destroy them.


    "The window of time where events did not play into my hands disappeared about forty years ago, honestly."


    Sahshir looked at Garacel hard for a moment. He wondered, between him and Seth Kaba, which of the two was more contemptible. The answer would probably be Kaba, but at the same time, it was hardly relevant.


    The pain had been getting worse. Finally, his mind turned to the plan he''d devised, and he considered the chances of success. If things went on like this, Garacel might win, but if he did, he''d exterminate the populace of slaveholders.


    "This is futile," said Sahshir, beginning to don his armor.


    "And why is that?" asked Garacel.


    "Aresif," said Sahshir, "take command of the Silent Guard. I must go alone for what comes next. March out and gaze upon the armies of Kaba from hiding. And send word to Marius that a chance for victory shall come soon."


    "I don''t understand," said Aresif.


    "All things are as Baltoth wills them," said Sahshir. "If victory is to be ours, he shall grant it. If defeat serves better his purposes, then we shall be defeated.


    "Why speak of attack and defense when triumph and tragedy are in both his hands?"


    "Your devotion does you credit," said Garacel, voice sarcastic. "Very well, we shall wait for Baltoth to make his choice. Now, what will we do while we wait for Baltoth?


    "Surely, he will not mind if we try our best to fix our own problems. If only to save him the work."


    Sahshir finished putting on his armor and donned his mask. Then he looked to Garacel. "Do not mock faith, Garacel. By it alone have we survived."


    "The question remains," replied Garacel.


    "It is written: The cornered serpent is the deadliest prey," said Sahshir. "We shall make ourselves the serpent."


    And then he turned and walked away.


    "Where are you going?" asked Baj.


    "To confront my enemy," said Sahshir, halting and glancing back. "If I''m going to die, I''d rather do it standing."


    "Shouldn''t you-" began Garacel.


    "Choke on your speeches, Garacel," replied Sahshir as he marched out.


    Sahshir would be dead if anything went wrong, as would likely many others. But death was inevitable; what did it matter if it came a year early? The half-formed plan he''d had was coming to fruition.


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    When he emerged into the darkness, he saw the Moon Spirit had shown its full face tonight, a good omen. The stars sparkled brightly between the trees. Though the land howled with the defilement of Sornian engineers. Sahshir could sense power growing within.


    It was gathered fully but... waiting.


    Waiting for what?


    Sahshir wasn''t exactly sure what he was doing here.


    His plan, if it was indeed that, had been pieced together from a general series of observations. Kaba was looking for an excuse to destroy Garacel easily; Kaba had been advised to talk with Sahshir. That meant he''d be willing to negotiate.


    And when he did, Sahshir could kill him. Once he was dead, the prime mover behind this expedition would be gone. A settlement might be reached between Marius and Romilis. The idea of killing a man in parley was distressing to Sahshir. From a certain perspective, Kaba didn''t have the right of parley applying to him. One who had no honor could scarcely expect to be treated with honor. But surely, such thinking would lead to a decay in moral spirit if applied too generously.


    When did it stop?


    When everyone was dead, probably.


    Then again, if Sahshir was lucky, Kaba would violate parley to show dominance. The man seemed to enjoy flaunting rules to feel powerful, so it wasn''t inconceivable. If he committed the first violation, Sahshir could kill him without guilt.


    But what if Kaba behaved with honor? Should Sahshir seek to negotiate with him? Kaba had easily violated his agreement with Garacel, but that had been done with slaves. He had some legal standing in it, and from his perspective, Garacel was of no threat. Would Kaba be so free to violate an agreement with a King, let alone a King of Calisha?


    Sahshir doubted he would be so stupid.


    There is the camp. The city rose distantly behind it, still standing. Good.


    Sahshir came to the edge of the trees and gazed at the filled-in swamp and hewn trees. There were numerous torches lit at the perimeter. And strange machines with a heavy guards. Then there was the camp beyond, where the sounds of merriment were underway.


    Why celebrate?


    Then Sahshir looked at the fields of sand. Among them were the bodies of many slaves. Their corpses had been used as part of the fill. Looking down at them, he remembered all those brave men who had died against the Sornian lines. And all those drafted into the task.


    His gaze went to several heads on pikes, having been burned to almost skulls.


    Was he to negotiate with monsters such as these? Even if he could trust them to abide by his terms, the concept of speaking to one horrified him. Baltoth practices crucifixions and other horrific torments. But only to those who committed grave crimes. And it was a matter of historical record that the penalties had become less harsh.


    Sahshir saw three ways this could go down if he could meet with Kaba.


    He could kill Kaba at once and violate parley, albeit to one with no right to its protection. He could be betrayed and try to kill Kaba afterward.


    Or he could make a deal in good faith.


    Sahshir almost desired to rush forward with a battle cry and kill as many as possible. Certainly, such an end would be glorious, but something held him back. Looking down at the Blade of Order, he saw his masked reflection. Within it, he found his resolve.


    Sahshir would allow Kaba to end this peacefully, but not for him. Rather he would offer him an out for the sake of those who would die if Garacel gained a total victory. Romilis and those who served him had warped minds. But they were not wicked as Kaba was, merely a product of the society they dwelled in.


    Sheathing his sword, he walked forward with his hands raised. As he entered the torchlight, guards arose and stepped around him, spears readied.


    "Hold where you are!" said a man. "Are you here to surrender, slave?"


    "I am King Abdul Sahshir of Eastern Kalthak," replied Sahshir simply. "I am here to negotiate with Seth Kaba. Step aside, or you will die in turn."


    "You..." said the man. "You''re that Prince of Kalthak that has been fighting us." There was murder in his eyes.


    "I am a messenger under parley, here to speak with Kaba on behalf of my people," said Sahshir. "Grant me an audience, or deny it to me. To harm me is to strike against the rules of all the gods.


    "Know this before you act."


    The man looked at his sword and stepped back at a pace. "...Give us your sword, and we will take you to Kaba."


    Sahshir looked at the blade. He should have known he would never be allowed in Kaba''s presence without a blade. "I am a King and entitled to bear this when meeting with one of my peers."


    "I don''t care who you think you are!" snarled the guard. "If you animals want to beg for mercy, you can do it unarmed!"


    "Well then," said Sahshir, "you can explain to Kaba that King Sahshir came to him with a means of gaining victory. And you sent it away before ever he even knew of it."


    One of them moved suddenly and struck Sahshir from behind. He fell forward, and they were on him, drawing out the Sword of Order as they did. The pain returned in force, and Sahshir hardly kept from howling in agony. His body was on fire as he struggled to stand, only to be grabbed on every limb. He felt his entire form falling to pieces as chains clapped on him. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Had he forgotten the pain?


    Or was he truly that far gone? Pulled to his knees, the guard struck him across the face and raised the sword. "Stupid slave, you''ll get your meeting as a prisoner of war."


    Sahshir said nothing, merely looking at this thing masquerading as a human being. Was it worth saying anything to him?


    "What do you suppose is beneath the mask," asked a man.


    "Might as well see..." said a man, drawing off the mask.


    They recoiled in horror around him at the sight of Sahshir''s face. He used this chance to test the chains on his limbs. They were quite tight and moved to account for his movements, trapping him in place.


    "That..." said the leader of these animals. "Put the mask back on. Now."


    "The Gods have seen your actions and will judge you by them," said Sahshir.


    "Quiet, slave!" said the man, striking him again.


    It was a petty agony, hardly noticeable, and Sahshir barely moved. He said nothing, for there was nothing to say. They led him through the camp. Sahshir noticed men gambling, drinking, and partaking of whores. But there were always sober men on guard.


    At last, they came to Kaba''s drab tent, plain gray tent. Within was Kaba, writing at a desk with a black quill. He looked up and narrowed his eyes. "What is it? I told you not to disturb me under any circumstances?"


    The guard froze at his voice. "I''m sorry, Lord Kaba. But we''ve captured a prisoner, the Prince of Kalthak. We found him trying to sneak into the camp."


    "He claimed he was here to negotiate," said another.


    The guard moved forward. "He bore this."


    The Sword of Order was set down on Kaba''s desk, and he drew the blade up. For the first time since Sahshir had seen him, Kaba looked fascinated. He held the blade experimentally and smiled at the reflective weapon.


    He looked a bit like Nagos.


    Then the moment passed. "Fine then, bring him in."


    Sahshir was thrust in, and the chains were not removed. "You have a black means of welcoming diplomats."


    "Diplomats?" asked Kaba flatly. "Why should I be concerned with a minor chieftain? You''re leading an army consisting of my property.


    "Your race will always be a third-rate set of sentients. So again, why should I welcome you."


    Sahshir smiled. "Because Nagos is going to reduce your entire fleet to driftwood."


    Kaba scoffed. "Hardly.


    "He''ll have to return to port for supplies, and we''ve conquered other ports. I already have my subordinates working to find countermeasures. Dinis'' will surrender soon enough, and the legions will fall in line.


    "Sooner or later, we''ll crush Nagos and his Fish King worshipping barbarians.


    "The most he''ll accomplish is an inconvenience."


    Fish King worshippers? Why would Kaba say that? Nagos had not raised any temples in Chaminus to the Fish King Sahshir had seen. Then again, he had not been there long, so he might have missed them.


    "My concern is the real war, not some remnant of a worthless and indolent society of eunuchs," said Kaba.


    Once, Sahshir might have said the same words about Namina and its descendants. But seeing himself reflected in this decayed and stinking corpse of a spirit was odd. Sahshir, as he gazed, that Kaba and those around him no longer saw men.


    He saw spirits.


    And they were as corpses, rotting away beneath their untreated diseases of the spirit. Kaba himself was truly hideous to gaze upon. As Sahshir looked down at his own hand, he saw his own hand, but complete. It had afflictions and was not as strong as possible, but it was healing. "And how many of your men will be killed in this war? So many of them could be saved if you had simply abided by your word."


    A spark of life came into Kaba''s rotting body. "Maybe." There was regret in his tone. For all his men''s lives meant nothing to him; he did not waste them or mistreat them. "But the long-term profits would be less. This island belongs to House Kaba, and those who do not toe the line have no place on it."


    "What do you want?" asked Sahshir, perplexed at this dying thing before him.


    "What?" said Kaba.


    "What are you seeking to accomplish through all this?" asked Sahshir. "Riches? You are already rich; a thousand men could not spend your income in a lifetime. Power? Surely there are better ways of getting it than this."


    "Is the survival of all living creatures in this world of Erian motivation enough?" asked Kaba.


    "How is preying on the natives of these islands going to save anyone?" asked Sahshir.


    "Their bloodlines are vulnerable to the Fish King''s will," said Kaba. "When he arises, it is prophesied that he will destroy the world. Even now, his will is working through all things. Or did you think Chaminus'' sudden bout of military competence came from nowhere?


    "He whispers in the minds of all those in this place. When he rises from the sea, they will become his servants.


    "Some call this event inevitable.


    "I have no intention of letting it happen, even if it never happens in my lifetime. Already I have financed studies that may allow us to slay the Fish King, eventually. For now, I intend to ensure that when he does wake up, he''ll have to do everything himself. So, when I conquer an island, I use its population to staff plantations that will kill most of them. This, in turn, gives me the cause of war to continue my campaign. I receive profits to channel into research, and my enemy is weakened.


    "It should more than sufficiently justify my actions. If no one is alive, morality is a useless thing."


    Sahshir looked at his chains and considered Kaba''s reasoning. For a moment, he contemplated it, trying to find some value in it. "I have never heard anyone speak more the part of a fool, Kaba. What if everyone thought and acted as you did? Committed grave atrocities, broke their oaths, and destroyed civilizations. All in pursuit of survival alone. As if survival was the greatest good and death the worst evil.


    "Such a world is not one I would defend. In that final war, I should take the part of the Fish King to end creation."


    It sounded like an excuse for Sahshir. Something Kaba could tell himself needed to happen so that he didn''t have to think about what he was doing now. If the world was going to end, let it be the twilight of a glorious civilization of warriors in a final epic battle. Not a slow and miserable decay into nothingness. All in pursuit of survival at the cost of everything else.


    Such a death would not be worthy at all.


    Kaba eyed him, eyes contemplative. "I believe you have an offer for me."


    Sahshir supposed there was no point in continuing this discussion. Yet as he looked at his arms, he found that the spirit seemed stronger still. "The leader of the slaves is named Garacel, and he is an old enemy of mine. He is mighty and seeks to destroy Calisha."


    "So you want to deliver him into my hands," said Kaba.


    "No," said Sahshir. "I want you to give the slaves leave to depart this land and go to Kalthak. I will resettle them, and you will be free to shape this land however you want. Then, I can influence Nagos and the Dinis Emperor to settle with you." It was, in all honesty, the only thing he could do.


    Neither Garacel nor Kaba were worth serving. Garacel was the less monstrous, but both would lead this island to utter ruin. So all Sahshir could do was save who he could.


    "Why should I make parley with you?" asked Kaba. "I have an elite army. All I need to do is fill in this swamp, and you will be forced into a confrontation. I''ve had the better of you in every match."


    "And the spirits of the land?" asked Sahshir. "They will judge you. They are mustering as we speak. If you listen, you will hear them."


    Kaba''s lip curled into a snarl. "The spirits can thank me for leaving them with some of their influence. I don''t have time to build shrines for fairies. I''ve made them cooperate on every other island I''ve taken. It will be the same here.


    "Anoa the Bright had refined techniques." He paused. "That said, you may be of use to me. Deliver Garacel''s head to me, and I will allow the Kalthakians to leave. I will keep this sword with me to ensure your cooperation."


    Sahshir''s first thought was that Kaba would not give the sword back. His next was that he was not going to do what he asked. And his third was questioning how Kaba could think he''d accept such terms. Perhaps this was merely an act of pride.


    Sahshir had rejected Kaba''s ideology, so perhaps he wanted to establish dominance. Sahshir sighed, very calm, as he looked at the hand with fewer fingers. "...What possible reason could I have to believe you will uphold your end of such a bargain?"


    "Do you have an alternative?" asked Kaba.


    "Do I?" asked Sahshir with a laugh. "It is written in the texts of Baltoth: Better to cut off your own hand, then willingly put it in chains."


    And then he ripped his three-fingered hand off. It was easy. As he did, his body blazed with light and pain...


    The pain was gone. The limb he had cast off burned away into ashes as he whirled around and smashed his elbow into the facemask of a guard. The blow bent metal and crushed his skull as Kaba began to flinch. Sahshir dropped low, catching himself on his good arm. He brought around his legs in a spinning kick at the other guard. Again, metal sparked and shattered as bones were crushed and thrown around.


    Kaba finished flinching.


    Pushing himself up to stand on one hand, Sahshir vaulted toward the Sword of Order. As he did, Kaba began to reach for the blade. However, Sahshir snatched the blade up and put it to Kaba''s throat as his fingers closed.


    "I''m a firm believer in those texts," said Sahshir.


    "... We''re in parley," said Kaba.


    "I hadn''t noticed," said Sahshir before hitting him over the head.


    As Kaba fell unconscious, Sahshir threw him over one shoulder, keeping him in place with the stump. Then, turning, he rushed to the tent. The guards came in and quickly lost their heads. More rushed at him, but he moved and weaved automatically, cutting down all around him. Men came from all around him, snatching up weapons.


    Spears were cut, hearts were pierced, and dozens of bodies were around him in moments. More joined with every second. Now the Sornians surrounded him, terrified to press forward. Archers bent their bows but were called off for fear of hitting their leader.


    And then there was a groaning, a terrible groaning, and a war cry. No, matter war cries, garbled by trees.


    The woods themselves emerged en masse from the swamps. They smashed into the camp with roots and limbs, crushing men to death. Birds and beasts of every kind also came, tearing out throats and pecking out eyes.


    "FOR DINIS! FOR EMPEROR ARIDIUS!" came Marius'' call.


    And his men rushed from the darkness as Garacel and his slaves rushed to war. Marius drew out the Blade of Chaos and tossed it through the air. It spun rapidly and landed in Garacel''s hand as he landed among the enemy and slaughtered them by the dozens.


    The battle turned against them almost as soon as it had begun; the Sornians broke and fled. Many were cut down as they ran, but a few were saved by the arrival of Romilis and his militia. Satisfied that some would live, Sahshir cast down Kaba, who had come too. Then, seeing Sahshir, he staggered back, staring at the hand. "How..."


    "The flesh is nothing. The soul is all there is," said Sahshir. Then he plunged forward with the blade. Kaba cried, but the sword plunged past his cheek, leaving a deep scar as the blade drove deep. "You aren''t worthy of a warrior''s death."


    Then he sat down and began to meditate.


    If Kaba was stupid enough to try anything, Sahshir would count it as honorable suicide.

 Chapter 252 - Epilogue:

    Weeks later, the fires had been put out. Buildings were being erected outside of the town to house the refugees. Work crews had been laboring day and night on Sahshir''s orders to mend what damage to the swamps they could. Many stretches of land had been saved, and many bodies had been given proper burials.


    But many places were dead and broken, and the spirits howled with the injury. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Nor had people come out of it any better. A large portion, Sahshir, wasn''t sure how many escaped slaves were dead. Many had been wounded, and he''d put the Sornian priests to work healing the injured on both sides. Their pay had been not being beheaded by Sahshir.


    Even so, entire crops had been lost, and the island would be devastated economically. Almost everyone had lost someone they knew in the war. Entire fortunes had been destroyed, and the bodies were only now being taken down.


    Now he was, mulling it over on a pier as the vessel pulled in.


    Nayasha stepped off the gangplank and walked down it, clad in chainmail with a black hood over her face. Sahshir nodded to her as she approached, walking with swaying hips. "You certainly took your time, Nayasha."


    "My apologies, Sahshir," said Nayasha, looking somewhat disappointed. "Plans were being made for a mission of the utmost importance, and they could not easily be abandoned. But unfortunately, Tuor has had me running many errands, and I received your dispatch a week after it arrived.


    "This place is..." She looked at the buildings that were being repaired. "Still standing."


    "That was an accomplishment in itself," said Sahshir. "What news?"


    "Calisha has recognized Emperor Aridius, of course. He should arrive shortly for negotiations," said Nayasha. "There will be a representative of Baltoth coming as well.


    "I understand that you''ve been quite busy yourself."


    Sahshir raised the steel hand he now had in place of his original one. Nayasha cringed at sight. "...Ah, I see. How did it happen?"


    "I ripped it off," said Sahshir flatly.


    "I assume there was no alternative," said Nayasha, wincing.


    "It''s only flesh," said Sahshir, turning around. "Come, we''ve prepared a reception."


    On they walked through the far emptier seats. Most people had moved out to try and salvage what they could from their ruined homes. It was a general opinion that Garacel would get a significant portion of the land on the island. So most were trying to get as much as they could while unclaimed.


    Salvaging had become the career of choice for men without work now. Worse still, fights had happened during many of those expeditions. Some had been killed.


    "So, where is Sen Kaba?" asked Nayasha,


    "In the worst prison I could find for him where I could guarantee his safety," said Sahshir. He''d been kept well-fed on a simple diet, far better than the man deserved.


    "It never occurred to you not to create a vendetta?" asked Nayasha.


    "It never occurred to me to spare his life," admitted Sahshir. "Only that he might be useful alive and didn''t deserve death in battle. Sparing him was merely a side effect of those plans."


    "I would not call that a wise gesture," said Nayasha. "Kaba is a powerful man, even if he is weakened. He has contacts and business partners in Antion, Calisha, Dinis, and many other places."


    "He''s lucky I''m ransoming him at all," replied Sahshir. "I had to convince Garacel the money for his ransom could be useful in rebuilding the island. Though we''ll need far more than that before the end."


    "You could try ransoming him to one of his enemies," said Nayasha. "I''m sure there are those who would pay to put a personal end to him. While powerful, he is not popular."


    "No man deserves torture," said Sahshir. "Executions ought to be swift. I banned crucifixion for a reason in my ascension."


    "Your principles could be your undoing," Nayasha warned him. "The world is not lenient on those who live by ideals alone."


    Sahshir scoffed. "Kaba''s lack of principles was his if one must be destroyed, it better be through virtue and swift death. Rather than slow decay and humiliation."


    "What of his soldiers?" asked Nayasha. "I have not seen any of those here."


    "A large part of them were killed in battle," said Sahshir. "Those with healing magic and contacts with spirits are being used to heal the land. The rest I have already allowed to return home."


    "You let them go? Without ransom?" asked Nayasha, sounding horrified.


    "Lieutenant Garrick of the Knights of the Coin interceded for them," admitted Sahshir. "As a gesture of goodwill to his faith, I allowed the prisoners of war to return."


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    "Then you mean to foster relations with Coinfurth?" guessed Nayasha.


    "No," said Sahshir. "I do not like Coinfurth or his church, and any alliance with them would be hateful to me.


    "No, Garrick made the request, and I considered it. I decided that Kaba''s men were not guilty of anything that the victors had not done so much more willingly. And I decided I''d rather they not waste away in prison to end up beheaded.


    "So I used some of my share of the loot to see them safely returned and returned the rest to Romilis. On the condition that some of them would labor to help mend what they destroyed."


    Nayasha was staring at Sahshir now without comprehension. "But he betrayed you. Romilis turned on you, nearly cost you the war."


    "He had good reason to, and I had taken actions to alienate him," said Sahshir. "Had I been within his role, I might have done the same. However, I saw no reason to hold the matter against him, and so I requested Aridius pardon him.


    "His people have already lost most of their land. So there is no reason to make them suffer more than necessary."


    "Have you no consideration of policy?" asked Nayasha, striving to speak. "You''ve sacrificed everything you''ve won. You''ve yielded political capital, all to protect people who betrayed you!


    "Why would you do this?!"


    Sahshir considered the question and wondered why she was shouting. Eventually, he shrugged. "It was the right thing to do."


    Nayasha looked like she was about to have a fit. "...You can''t give that as an answer. It''s an excuse, a justification, not a reason."


    "You may believe whatever you will, Nayasha," said Sahshir, stretching his neck. "We have work to do. First, I will need you to set up a network of agents in this region.


    "We''ll need some measure of control here.


    "With all the tensions that are going to be on this island, it could start another mass bloodletting. So I don''t want to have to come back here."


    Nayasha somewhat recovered as she realized there was something to be gained here. "That seems wise.


    "Tuor would certainly appreciate having a foothold here. Still, what of the spirits of the land? What is being done to appease them?"


    "I have sent letters to the Seers of Laevian," said Sahshir. "As servants of the Goddess of the Wilds, they often operate outside of pantheon lines. Therefore, I have given them leave to repair the damage done by Sem Kaba and create several Laevian shrines."


    "That is an unusual play to make," said Nayasha.


    "Laevian assisted us," said Sahshir. "While it was for her ends, we ought to thank her for her assistance."


    "And in so doing, ensure Garacel isn''t the only one she has a vested interest in," said Nayasha. She seemed to think she had seen the method of Sahshir''s madness. "I see."


    No, she didn''t. She was rationalizing away the idea of someone doing good for its own sake.


    Sahshir wasn''t some elaborate schemer plotting the downfall of kings. His only interest was living an honorable life and ensuring the power and nobility of Kalthak. Those who acted in a proper fashion were shielded from misfortune. And they had their triumphs made all the greater by their reputation.


    If his plans had resulted in some great gain, it was only because virtue was the only real path to power. That, more than anything, was the lesson of Baltoth''s word.


    "That as well," was all Sahshir said.


    And then Nagos appeared from around the corner, pretending to be just running into them. Still, Sahshir suspected he''d seen them coming and was timing his entrance. So he walked up to Nayasha and smiled. "Excuse me, are you Nayasha?"


    "I am," said Nayasha, going still. "And you are?"


    "Nagos, King of Chaminus, at your service," said Nagos, offering a hand.


    Nayasha went white for a moment, then quickly took the hand. "Are you?


    "I must admit, your reputation proceeds you. There are rumors you throw the corpses of your victims into the sea to feed an eldritch god you serve."


    "Don''t be silly," said Nagos. "The merfolk eat the bodies of everything that dies at sea. It''s just what they do. Dead sailors in this part of the ocean are considered a delicacy." Then he glanced back and waved down the road. "Hey, Narcissa, Serna, over here!"


    Serna had gotten back a week ago and had been working with Nagos in setting everything up. One of the first things she''d done was start making lists. She had counted the exact number of various valuables they had. Then, she had locked herself up for three whole days in a room, coming out only to eat.


    When she got out, she started talking with Sahshir and sending letters. Pretty soon, Serna and Alkela had been exchanging all kinds of goods. Nayasha had been helping her with a plan for the resurrection of the economy. Along different lines than slavery, of course.


    "May I ask what brings you out here?" asked Nayasha.


    "Well, I''ve been arranging things with Romilis," said Nagos. "We''re in the middle of a lot of different negotiations.


    "Aridius declared himself Emperor, and I''ve chosen to support his claim. In exchange, I''m getting Macshore. As a governor, naturally, I''m his loyal subordinate. No word on whether he''ll be marrying the Empress Mother, though.


    "I''m going to have my work cut out for me settling differences here, honestly. The first thing I did was allow all the Zigildrazians and Kalthakians to go back home. A lot of them, though, want to stay and live here.


    "I guess they figure they''re owed it."


    "...You mean to reestablish Chaminus'' empire," realized Nayasha. "How did you gain the colonist''s cooperation?"


    "I''m giving them a place at the negotiation table, which is more than they''d get before," said Nagos. "Sahshir also put in a good word. Though whenever I walk into a room, people start bowing and trembling. It''s taken a lot of work to make people less terrified I''ll eat them alive." Unfortunately, his smile was a bit too wide. "We''re going to have to look over many maps and divide the land fairly. And to do that, we''ll need to talk with Garacel.


    "On a brighter side, so many people died that there should be plenty for all."


    Serna whacked Nagos over the head with a scroll. "That is not funny."


    Sahshir was too busy laughing to see Nagos'' retort. "I uh... I apologize; it''s uh... darkly humorous."


    "...At any rate, Nagos, I''ve put together some concepts on moving away from the slave economy," said Serna. "To be honest, it won''t be hard.


    "The entire island''s value has been ripped to shreds. We''ll be remaking it from the ground up anyway. It''s getting the funding that''ll be the problem.


    "It''s almost as bad as what happened to Zigilus," said Narcissa. "Maybe worse."


    "In that regard, I may help," said Nayasha. "Master Tuor has several contacts in Sorn. If we were to secure loans from certain merchants, it could help pay for the recovery. It would also give Sorn a vested interest in the success of rebuilding."


    "Great, so we''re putting ourselves in debt to Sorn," said Nagos.


    "Yes, but we are also gaining influence," said Nayasha.


    "Being in debt is always a bad thing," said Nagos.


    Nagos had a point. Such economic dependence could cause the island to fall out of the influence of Dinis. That could not be allowed. Then, turning, he looked to the sea and paused. "...We''ll erect a shrine to Safara."


    "Hmm, why?" asked Nagos. "That goddess puts me on edge."


    "I feel her particular domain is desperately needed in this place," said Sahshir. "And I have some outstanding debts to pay."


    The war was over, unfortunately. Now peace had gone and broken out. Sahshir was never going to manage a death in battle at this rate.

 Chapter 253 - The Web of Iron

    Well, that is Wages of Sin wrapped up. I hope you enjoyed it; I had to do more editing on this one. My Wattpad account has effectively become a first draft of sorts. Continuity has been shaped up as it goes from one platform to another, grammar is touched up, etc.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Next, we will return to William''s storyline in the Web of Iron. We''ll introduce some new villains in this one and expand on the northern part of Erian. We''ll also get a chance to see William come into his own as a hero more. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And also see the return of an old nemesis...

 Chapter 254 - Prologue: A Binding Agreement

    The elves were now all bundled up in silk. The cocoons Rioletta had woven clung to their every delicious male and female curve. Oh, how they had struggled and wriggled at first as their minds were drawn into nightmares. Nightmares beyond comprehension. The taste of their suffering was positively delicious. And the feel of them around the hips was beautiful.


    "Ah, such a wonderful batch we''ve captured today," said Rioletta to her companion. "Wouldn''t you say, Black Star?" His suffering was delicious as well. "I love it most when they refuse to give up. Just keep struggling. The way the silk clings to every feature and the look of horror on their faces is so wonderful...


    "Still, a Goddess such as myself needs a worthy consort."


    Black Star did not respond. He has yet to respond. Yet his suffering was audible on a spiritual plane. Then Rioletta sensed something and looked up to see a pale light appearing. Into the darkened hall stepped a figure she knew from her studies.


    "Melchious darling!" she cried in joy. "It has been ever so long." He''d chosen his human form this time. Tall with long blonde hair and red robes. Like that positively delicious William she faced before, but too old in spirit for her tastes. Not enough hope to crush.


    "Not nearly long enough," said Melchious. "Tell me, Rioletta, how would you like to rule Seathorius?" S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Rule Seathorius? What a charming idea. "Well, that does sound nice. Yet last I heard, my dear colleague was the ruler there. They call her by that adorable nickname, Arraxia, was it? Though it was a terrible thing that happened to you, I expect either you or her will kill the other.


    "What, pray tell, do you desire in return?"


    Melchious smiled. It was an unpleasant smile for her to look at, and she was a demon.


    "Seathorius is lost to me. And at the moment, your former colleague is working hard trying to stamp out my worship. If you were to take control, I would give you the rulership of that land. And all I would ask in return is that you continue the traditions of my worship."


    "Out how mighty and generous you are, Master Melchious," said Rioletta. She knew how much her false subservience annoyed him. "Tell me, how may I achieve this great end of which you speak?"


    To her disappointment, he did not react. "You must capture the Dreamer Elf, Kiyora Yagos. Then you must do as I say..."


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 Chapter 255 - One: Kiyoras Nemesis

    It was rare to come face to face with one''s life''s great nemesis. There he stood at the head of the class. Ordinary, with nothing remarkable about him. Maybe it was her history with this dark-haired boy she''d never met. But Kiyora Yagos hated him at once. Especially the way her heart pounded as she looked at him.


    "My name is Tenius Dreamer," he said in a friendly tone. "I''m going to be going to school here at Actovosh High. I''m glad to meet you all, and I hope we all have a good year."


    "Great, just what we needed," muttered Laurus, who looked like he wanted a cigarette.


    "I think he looks nice, Laurus," said Reya.


    "If by nice you mean spineless, then yeah, sure," said Laurus.


    "That''s enough gossip, everyone," said Ms. Everard. "Tenius, why don''t you take your seat over there by Kiyora."


    Wait seriously? Was he going to sit next to her? Her irritation was turned up to bewilderment. Worse still were the jealous blushes of several girls. What was going on here? As far as she could tell, Tenius was an utterly bland individual. No strong characteristics or qualities save one¡ªthe ability to get things handed to him on a silver platter.


    Granted, Kiyora had not met or talked with him before now. But, then again, she was one of the things which was almost handed to him on said platter. So she liked to think she knew more than most.


    The class passed that day with Tenius heedless of her glares. Several times during free periods, he was approached by girls. All of them showed signs of being smitten. Why? He''d only just got here?


    "Kiyora, are you alright?" asked Gisora at lunch. "You''ve been out of it ever since Tenius arrived."


    "Yeah, I''m fine. Just distracted is all," said Kiyora. "What is he doing here?"


    "How should I know?" asked Laurus. "Maybe they''re hoping you''ll fall in love."


    "Shut up Laurus," said Kiyora. "I told you I fixed that." However, she wouldn''t put it past Alchara to try it. Technically she''d only agreed not to force Kiyora into marriage. So if Kiyora married Tenius of her own free will, she''d get both.


    William had given up the Goldenwood Harp for Kiyora. Meanwhile, the bitch Alchara was already using loopholes.


    "Right, of course. You negotiated with Alchara in your dreams," said Laurus. "And I''m the God-Emperor Ictargo."


    "We both survived an eldritch horror taking control of the entire city a few months ago," said Kiyora. "Give me the benefit of the doubt here. And I did get the engagement canceled, didn''t I? So what''s it matter how I did it?"


    "I know, I know, I''m just screwing with you," said Laurus.


    Then Gisora looked up. "Hey, look, Tenius is getting mobbed already."


    Sure enough, he was being approached by yet more girls. These were a lot more forward about their intentions than the others. One of them was even hanging off of him like a cloak. Tenius looked somewhat awkward but otherwise was not treating this as anything unusual.


    "Why?" asked Kiyora. "What''s to like about him?"


    "He doesn''t look very happy," mused Reya. "Shouldn''t we do something?"


    "Why?" asked Gisora. "So, we have to put up with him at our table?"


    "Excellent point," said Laurus. "Let''s do nothing." He drew out a cigarette and a lighter. Gisora reached out and snatched both out of his hands.


    "Hey!" said Gisora. "You aren''t supposed to be smoking in here."


    "It''s my body. I''ll do what I want," said Laurus.


    "Not here, you won''t," said Gisora.


    Laurus smiled. It was the smile he got when he intended to pay someone back for a perceived slight. "You know, I think Reya is right. I think I should go over there. He looks uncomfortable."


    "Oh yes, I''m sure he is," said Kiyora. "But if he''s uncomfortable being mobbed by two girls, a third one won''t improve things."


    Laurus laughed at that. This attracted several looks. He ignored them and walked away from the table toward Tenius.


    He reached the ever-growing mob of girls. He was saying something, but Kiyora couldn''t hear him. They watched as the girls shrank away from him.


    "What''s he doing?" asked Reya.


    "Probably talking about horror movies," said Kiyora. "Laurus knows how to make people uncomfortable."


    "He isn''t bringing him over here, is he?" asked Gisora.


    Laurus started bringing Tenius over to them.


    "Damn him," hissed Gisora.


    Tenius reached them, looking a bit awkward. "Hey, uh, do you guys mind if I sit here?"


    "Oh no, we don''t mind, right, Kiyora," said Laurus.


    "No," hissed Kiyora. "Not at all."


    "Anyway, I was just telling Tenius about what happened a couple of months ago," said Laurus.


    "Is he just messing with me?" asked Tenius.


    "That depends on what he told you," said Gisora.


    "Well, he told me that an eldritch horror mind-controlled everyone," said Tenius. "Is he joking?"


    "His name was Laughing Wraith, and no, he is not," said Kiyora.


    "You''d think someone would have said something before now, is all," said Tenius.


    "Oh, they pulled all the records and news stories," said Laurus. "And people have started to forget. This kind of thing happens. Some otherworldly being invades. Everyone gets all worked up, then it gets stopped, and everyone starts failing.


    "The trick is to write it all down to remember later."


    "But why would Alchara do that?" asked Tenius. "I mean, wouldn''t it be better if people remembered them."


    "Actually, no," said Reya. "Belief is power. If people don''t know about something, it can''t hurt them as easily. That''s why nobody got killed in Wraith''s rampage. He wasn''t really enough in this world to affect us."


    "Is this some kind of prank?" asked Tenius.


    "Nope," said Laurus. "I got slashed with a sword during it. I can show you the scar if you want."


    "No thanks," said Tenius quickly.


    "Why do you always have to keep bringing things like that up, Laurus?" asked Gisora.


    "I don''t like forgetting about anything," said Laurus. "Even the nasty stuff. My half-sister Remedia keeps a whole shed full of documents of events. They''ve all been scrubbed from the record."


    "Doesn''t the government have a problem with that?" asked Tenius.


    "Well, she''s allowed to do it as long as she doesn''t go around trying to cause a panic," said Laurus. "Hey, if you want, I could show you some documents. You''d be surprised what horrors happen daily out here."


    "No thanks," repeated Tenius.


    What a complete bore.


    "Any new horrors we should know about Laurus?" asked Kiyora. "Recent stuff?"


    "Well, there have been some weird sightings reported in the papers," admitted Laurus. He reached into his pocket. "Supposedly, a mysterious black tree ship is flying around the skies. Several people have seen it overhead. I got a picture of it from the paper before it got nabbed.


    "Here, take a look." He drew out a newspaper and showed it to them.


    Kiyora unrolled the paper and looked over the front page. On it was a massive ship flying over the city of Actovosh. Its roots were long and twisted, and its branches were fighting against each other. It was utterly dark, and there was an unholy look to it. It gave her a shiver looking at it.


    "This could have been photo edited," she said.


    "Nah, and I''ll tell you why," said Laurus. "Because this ship has been seen in Actovosh before. Look here." He drew out several other articles and put them on the table. They showed the black star in port, with pictures being taken of it as the crew entered.


    "Did you steal this from Remedia as well?" asked Gisora, voice disapproving.


    "No, I get to borrow her stuff as long as I bring her any interesting newspapers," said Laurus. "Geeze."


    "New experimental tree ship Black Star going into production." read Kiyora. "Designed to amplify the powers of Dream Sages."


    "Aren''t all tree ships designed to do that?" asked Reya.


    "No, they act as a channel, transforming their will into weaponry," said Tenius. "The Black Star was something new. It was supposed to enhance the powers of the one who wields it."


    Kiyora blinked in surprise. How did he know about this? "So, what happened to it?"


    "I don''t know," said Laurus. "I couldn''t find any info."


    "Five years ago, on its maiden voyage, it disappeared without a trace," said Tenius. "My grandpa was talking about it. There was this huge elf hunt for it, but nobody ever found it."


    "So what world was it going to?" asked Kiyora.


    "A place called Narvan," said Tenius. "Realm of the Dark Elves."


    "I uh," Laurus paused, "I''m not big on foreign countries. Or foreign worlds."


    "We conquered it ten years ago, so our occupation is fairly recent," said Tenius. "See, the Dark Elves worship this Spider Goddess, Rioletta. She was always craving more sacrifices for her webs. They started out hitting independent worlds. Then they got bolder. They started raiding our shipping lines and taking prisoners from our unguarded worlds. You seriously never heard of this?"


    "The government pretty tightly controls information," said Laurus. "We could be waging a full-scale war right now, and I''m not sure we''d know."


    "Well, that explains it," said Tenius, "my grandpa went on all kinds of campaigns. He has some friends in the military. I guess growing up on a farm on a mountaintop doesn''t make you as sheltered as you think, huh?" He rubbed the back of his head and smiled nervously.


    "Yeah, that''s great," said Kiyora. "So, how about we track down this Black Star?"


    "How would we even go about it?" asked Reya.


    "Well, we can bet that if it exists, the government isn''t talking about it," said Laurus. "Gisora, how about you see what you can dig up?"


    "Sure thing," said Gisora.


    "Why would you be able to learn anything?" asked Tenius.


    "My family is royalty, and my mom works in the Department of Bloodlines. She has security clearance," said Gisora. "They''d have records on the Dream Sages who were brought in for this job. Does that article have any info on the crew?"


    "From the looks of things, yes," said Reya.


    "Can I borrow it then, Laurus?" asked Gisora.


    "Sure," said Laurus. "This is a photocopy anyway. Remedia would tan my hide if I brought the real thing to a school lunch table."


    "Yeah, but this thing might be a high enough secret that you can''t find out about it, Gisora," said Kiyora. "We need another lead."


    "What about resting periods?" asked Reya.


    "Huh?" asked Kiyora.


    "Tree ships don''t need fuel like other races'' ships," said Reya. "Instead, they land and put their roots into fertile soil for a bit. Ideally, in very rich soil that has been specially prepared."


    "There are only a few places like that in Actovosh," said Gisora.


    "Yes, but we''re not just talking about Actovosh," said Tenius. "The Black Star was supposed to be fast at moving between worlds. So it could easily go to any surrounding worlds and land there for a bit before returning here."


    "Not without being detected," said Reya. "If the Black Star is out there, you can bet the government is very interested in what it is doing. Transporting between worlds creates a sort of ripple in reality. It can be traced."


    "So it is somewhere in this world and probably nearby," noted Tenius.


    "How do you know so much about tree ships Reya?" asked Kiyora.


    "I want to be a gardener Kiyora," said Reya. "Tree ships are a kind of plant. Working servicing one is very high paying work." sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Okay, I''ll look up any cities and towns nearby where they could have touched down," said Gisora. "Spring break is soon, so we can all look for this Black Star together."


    "Right," said Kiyora.


    "Hey, that reminds me, Tenius," said Laurus. "Why are you transferring to this school in the middle of the year?"


    "I, uh, I''d rather not talk about it," said Tenius.


    "Suit yourself," said Kiyora.


    She wasn''t even slightly interested anyway.

 Chapter 256 - Two: The Dukes Meeting

    It was a bright but chilly day by the standards of Artarq, which meant it was sweltering. Though the distance was a blur when you looked from the towers, the palace gardens were cooler than most places. It was a place of flowing water and many strange and foreign plants. At the center of this place was a Gazebo, and Father waited for his visitor to arrive.


    William focused on playing his harp. It was not as great as the one he had given up to the goddess Alchara some time ago, but it was still beautiful. Father had had it commissioned of him. Massacre the Chimera seemed to enjoy the music just as much. However, it did not have the same power.


    Then their visitor arrived. He was a satyr, and a tall one at that. He wore a metal mask over his face and was shrouded all in white. He sat down across from Vanion. William played his harp to one side in a chair in the corner. He kept his head down and his hood up.


    "Ah, Karasush," said Father, "I trust the roads were not too troublesome?"


    "Not at all, Duke Vanion," said Karasush. "Though it has been a long time since I had to travel by normal means. Within Fortenex and Kreshlak, I can move freely, but in other worlds, I must walk like anyone else.


    "In truth, I have become a bit out of shape."


    "Would you care for some wine?" asked Father, motioning to several cups which had been laid out and a bottle. "It is a satyr variety, grown by your cousins in the vineyards of Seathorius."


    "Yes, thank you," said Karasush.


    Father motioned to Felix, who emerged from where no one had seen him holding a jug. A sword was at his side. How did he do that? The dark-skinned boy poured the wine.


    Karasush took his. William half expected him to remove his mask. But instead, the mask itself opened near the mouth, revealing jagged teeth and tan skin. He sipped it as Vanion did the same. "Seathorius wine is considered a great delicacy amongst my people," mused Karasush. "How did you know of it?"


    "I didn''t. I am merely experimenting," admitted Father. "The recent peace between the Nakmar and their satyr neighbors is good. It has allowed trade to flourish in places where there was none before. The negotiations are ongoing, but I believe there may be a good market for this wine."


    "We have never been able to produce it," admitted Karasush. "The cold weather of Khasmir means we have to rely on more cold weather vines. They are less sweet and more bitter."


    "No doubt some will prefer them," mused Father, sipping his cup again. "Now, what exactly is it that you wished to speak to me about?"


    "Yes, very recently, a powerful artifact of my god was recovered by your son," said Karasush. "I was hoping that it might be returned to us."


    "Ah, yes, that," said Father. "I wish to, of course; I do not like denying any religion their sacred artifacts. But, unfortunately, the Axe of Fortenex has been infused with an enormous amount of life force. Thanks to the prodigious bloodshed that ensued around its recovery.


    "If someone worthy of it were to wield it, there could be massive destruction. Moreover, with Melchious still out there, it is possible he could steal it. If that happened, he would enact his dark will using the weapon."


    William didn''t believe that Father would give the Axe to Karasush''s hands. Not if the weapon were powerless and Melchious dead. Their status as allies was a convenience. Nothing more. Karasush would have been as happy working for Calisha or Melchious. Who he sided with depended on who had emerged victorious in Khasmir. He remembered the bodies, the burned villages, the carnage. Karasush had wreaked all of it.


    To save his people? Perhaps. Had it been an accident? Perhaps. Could they afford to kill him? No. "Fortenex does not reward failures," said Karasush. "Melchious lost the axe. He would have to redeem himself in the eyes of my god before he was allowed to wield it again. And the demoness you call Arraxia was found unworthy."


    "That does not mean they might not prove worthy later," said Father. "Fortunately, plans are already in motion to ensure Melchious never has the chance to do so. However, you must understand I do not have the authority to give the axe into your hands. The Paladin Order must make that decision. They hold authority over such things."


    "Then perhaps you could speak to them on my behalf?" suggested Karasush.


    "I will, but I promise nothing," said Father. "The reality is that most of the King''s subjects regard you as an enemy who has escaped justice. Giving you the axe now would play into my rival''s hands and make King Andoa look weak.


    "No, you must prove yourself before I can do that."


    "Then the worshippers of Fortenex shall do so," said Karasush. "You merely need to say how."


    "There is," mused Father. "I have been hoping to establish colonies in Khasmir. But, of course, I have no intention of displacing you. Yet, there is room enough with all the territory freed up in the recent war. These would merely be military trading posts¡ªplaces where the excess population of Harlenor would be able to go in search of a new life.


    "Of course, High Chieftain Relg will never cede any of his territories to me, no matter the situation. So I would like to purchase the land from you." He drew out a map and unrolled it. Setting it down on the table, he pointed to several areas. "Here, and here, and here in particular."


    "These areas are all between my people and the worshippers of Kreshlak," mused Karasush.


    "Yes," said Father. "I have heard of the skirmishes between your peoples, and I desire that they stop. By creating a buffer zone between them, I hope to maintain peace." And if either clans attacked the colonists, Vanion had a reason to conquer them. If they didn''t, peace would reign.


    It gave opportunities for glory either way. However, William and Father would prefer the latter.


    "It may work," admitted Karasush. "I am certain we can come to some form of arrangement. It would help us pay the debt we owe Relg and also our tribute to Antion. Yet I must speak with the Chieftains in this regard. I am recognized as the leader of all the tribes of Fortenex. Yet my power is not absolute."


    "Then go and seek their answer," said Father. "Now, excuse me, I have another meeting to attend."


    "You mean the demoness Arraxia," mused Karasush.


    She was here. William sensed her. Her shadow was cast over the courtyard, visible in the form of a girl his age. "You are perceptive, Karasush. Do run along," said the girl. "I have a meeting with an equal to attend to."


    "Hubris suits no one, milady," said Karasush. He finished his drink. Then he departed without another word.


    "I truly cannot abide that you didn''t cut his throat," said Arraxia.


    "It is better to convert an enemy to your side than destroy them," said Father. "Something which I would have thought a demon like yourself would understand all too well."


    "Only when they can be relied upon," said Arraxia. "For all his submission claims, Karasush is no one''s subject save his own."


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    "Whatever the case, I am glad that you were able to attend," said Vanion. "We have some business to discuss."


    "Unless you desire to swear fealty, I sincerely doubt it," mused Arraxia. Then she looked straight at William. "How have you been, dear William? Oh? Nothing to say? A pity, I do so enjoy our conversations."


    "I assure you, the feeling is not mutual," said William, drawing off his hood. "You''ve tried to kill me twice now."


    "Yes. Yes, I suppose I have," mused Arraxia, tone nostalgic. "All mortals die. To be honest, I''m being exceedingly considerate by taking the matter out of your hands."


    "I am aware of your reasons," said Father. "My son is a means by which Melchious can gradually return to this world now that you have driven him out. Of course, the question would be easily answered with my support."


    "Are you suggesting an alliance?" asked Arraxia.


    "Nothing of the sort," said Father. "I am bound to the will of Elranor and could not in good conscience support a demon. But, of course, should it come to it, I could see myself arranging for support for the lesser of two evils.


    "All I ask in return is that you stop these meaningless attempts on William''s life."


    "You do mean an alliance. Very well, I shall humor your delusions of being my equal," said Arraxia. "I am not unreasonable. So far from it, reason itself flows wholly from my opinions."


    "There is one other thing," said Father.


    "You test my patience," said Arraxia. "What is it you desire?"


    "I want you to stop attacking ships that sail along Savior''s Run," said Vanion.


    "Oh, but Doltier and all his little friends enjoy it," said Arraxia. "It would be a shame to deny them such simple pleasures."


    "No one sails down Savior''s Run anymore," said Father. "No one has for years. The satyrs have caused all the merchants to take the sea instead of the direct route. Yet consider this: What if instead of robbing vessels, you charged them a fee for trading?"


    "Well, that would be a less violent solution," admitted Arraxia. "But violence does have its appeal."


    "Haven''t you ever wondered why Melchious was never anything more than a brigand?" asked Father. "It was because his satyrs, for all their fury, could never organize. They were always fighting someone and could not be unified or made to better themselves.


    "Imagine what would happen if you brought them into a new age of prosperity? The warriors you use in constant minor skirmishes could be used for greater wars."


    "Well, that does sound rather nice," mused Arraxia. "Yet, why should you care?"


    "I am always looking for accomplishments to parade before the court of Antion," said Father. "Opening up a new trade route will do wonders for my reputation. And it will make reinforcing Artarq that much easier."


    "You do seem to have thought all this through," said Arraxia. "Very well, we have an agreement." She offered a hand.


    "Excellent," said Father. He took it and winced at the contact.


    The shadow faded away. Father looked to the guards who had stood by with drawn swords and then relaxed. William hadn''t wanted to fight Arraxia again. And he knew her well enough to think she might start something.


    "You did very well, William," said Father.


    "There didn''t seem very much for me to say anyway," said William. "Father, are you sure we can trust Arraxia?" She was now regarded as a growing power. She had secured her borders with the Nakmar and was throwing up fortified towns.


    "We can trust her to look after her best interests," said Father. "Antion does not have any major enemies at present. But, doubtless, she is concerned about the possibility of a full-scale invasion. And if we need to crush her, we can do so.


    "Of course, that does not mean she can actually do what I asked of her. How much control she has over the satyrs. This is a test of her abilities.


    "She might try to seize the Axe of Fortenex," noted William.


    "Put your mind at ease," said Father. "The Axe will soon be well away from here, and we will no longer have to concern ourselves with it. So now there is one last meeting for us to have."


    At that moment, a familiar, beautiful, blonde-haired girl approached. She was about three years William''s elder with a bowl cut. She was clad in white armor and wore two newly forged Nakmar swords. She bowed. One of her hands was shaking as she gripped a sword. "Captain Hrungeld of Viokinar is here, Duke Vanion."


    "Thank you, Tanith. I would have you stay for this," said Father, motioning to a seat.


    Captain Hrungeld, the minotaur, made his entrance. His massive brown-furred frame could scarcely fit inside the gazebo entrance. He had more gray hairs in his beard from the last time William saw him. He bowed his head respectfully as he stood before Father.


    "It has been some years, Captain Hrungeld," said Father.


    "It has indeed, Duke Vanion," said Hrungeld. "You''ve made a name for yourself in that time, as has your son." He looked at William. "You''ve come into your own since you fell overboard."


    William smiled as he remembered his old self. That was a scared fourteen-year-old who cowered at the sight of a white satyr. He''d stood his ground before far more terrible things since then. "Yes. Captain Hrungeld, I apologize for my cowardice on the ship. I should have-"


    Hrungeld raised a hand. "Say no more. Raynald ordered you to stay out of it. Besides, I''ve had great business from Seathorius since you put that demoness in power. Satyr wine is always profitable, and we''ve made enormous profits selling it.


    "Those creatures are vicious in a fight, but no one can fault them their drinks."


    "Yes, well, we''ll need you," said Father. "I need you to transport something for us."


    The minotaur eyed him. "What, exactly?"


    "This," said Father, reaching below the table and drawing out a long package. It was tied with many bandages and etched with runes. As he set it down, its sound was far heavier than it should have been.


    It hurt when you looked at it. And one could faintly hear screams. Then, as one looked closer, it seemed like red liquid was pouring out of the bandages. But when you blinked, it was gone.


    "That box is as though blood is seeping out of the cracks," mused Hrungeld. "What unholy artifact lies within?"


    "One that must not be reclaimed under any circumstances," said Father. "I cannot say more. I intend to have it purified or at least kept safe in Antion. I have reason to believe that any normal ship I send would be ambushed. To send a fleet would only attract attention. You must sail to the Port of Brisnar and meet Lady Rusara and Raynald in the Weeping Maiden tavern.


    "You will then pass this to her. I ask that you make as few stops as possible on this expedition."


    "Yes, yes, I see," said Hrungeld. "I am bound first for Port Otter to sell spices to the Nakmar. I will then purchase weapons to sell there. Nakmar Swords are very good, and I''ll be losing a decent profit."


    "I will, of course, compensate you," said Father, "Felix." S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Felix emerged from where he had been standing all along. Not that anyone except William had noticed him. He''d melded with the shadows themselves. Now he placed down a large chest upon the table and opened it.


    Hrungeld looked at the gold within and smiled. "This is a fortune."


    "I will give you this now," said Father. "When the mission is completed, and I know that Rusara lay hands on the package, I shall gladly pay you the other half."


    "You are a wealthy man, Duke Vanion," noted Hrungeld.


    "You overestimate me," said Father with a smile. "Oh, and this is Tanith Telus, a veteran of the Khasmir campaign and a student of Raynald De Chevlon. She and Felix will accompany your ship and ensure everything is in order. And so will Massacre here."


    Massacre, the Chimera looked up for the first time during the conversation. Or at least her goat head looked up. She eyed Hrungeld blearily. "Bah."


    "A chimera?" said Hrungeld, voice doubtful.


    "I will supply all the food you need for her," said Father. "She is merely there to ensure everything goes well and to act as security."


    "I don''t like being imposed on," mused Hrungeld.


    "Bah," said Massacre. Hrungeld flinched.


    "And I would not say in other circumstances," said Father. "But this is far too serious to leave without an escort."


    "Very well, I''ll do it," said Hrungeld. "I''ll tell no one on the crew that doesn''t need to know either. Safer that way. I''ll leave with the tide."


    "Thank you, Hrungeld," said Father.


    "Now, I''ll take this with me and get the men ready," said Hrungeld, picking up the case. "Good day to both of you."


    As Hrungeld left, William looked after him. Then he looked to Father. "Father, I''m not sure about sending Felix off on this venture?"


    "I know you don''t like being deprived of a servant and friend," said Father. "However, you will have to manage without him for a time. Someone has to control Massacre, and no one besides yourself is friendly enough with her."


    "Bah," snapped Massacre.


    "Felix, I''m sorry you have to go to all this inconvenience," said Father.


    "I made a fortune investing in the malas trade before you started selling it to Calisha," said Felix. The dark-skinned boy was clad in finer clothes than three months ago. "I feel I owe you something."


    "A just point," mused Father, a slight smile on his lips.


    "Still, be careful," said William.


    Felix smirked. "Who do you think I am? You?"


    William laughed. "Fair enough."


    It looked like the start of another adventure. Fortunately, William was not going to be a part of it. Which was good; he could heal more people this way.

 Chapter 257 - Three: The Tale of Queen Dawn

    Kiyora found herself in a library when she entered Seathorius that night. Bjorn was sitting in a chair, reading as he often did. He glanced up in surprise and adjusted his spectacles.


    "Hey Bjorn, how is it going?" asked Kiyora.


    He set down his book and stood. "Well enough Dreaming Goddess. I am told many new faithful are coming to your temple in Artarq. Your worship is spreading far and wide."


    "Yeah, sure, great, whatever. Is there anything I can do to help?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, there is a patrol who hasn''t reported in yet," admitted Bjorn. "I doubt it is worth your time, especially since-"


    "Say no more," said Kiyora, who was bored.


    She transported herself to the surface and looked at the trees. "Excuse me, could you look for a disappeared Nakmar patrol? It was supposed to have come in recently. If you find them direct them here."


    Then she zipped back down to the library. "Done."


    "I am grateful, Dreaming Goddess," said Bjorn. "Yet there is something else."


    He had something else? That sounded interesting. "Yes?"


    "Queen Dawn is waiting for you," said Bjorn.


    "Queen Dawn?" asked Kiyora. "She is, uh... I''ll get to it."


    "She is the Queen of the High Elves," said Bjorn. "She came here some days ago and requested to speak with you when you next appeared."


    Kiyora sighed. "Well, I''d better go see what she wants. Where is she?"


    "In the next room," said Bjorn. "She was very interested in our records."


    Kiyora nodded and made her way into the next room. As soon as she saw Queen Dawn, she blinked. The woman sitting on the floor reading a book looked precisely like Alchara. Well, not exactly. She was mortal. There was none of the unearthly beauty around her, just natural beauty and a lot of it.


    "This had better be good," said Kiyora.


    Queen Dawn looked up. Kiyora realized that she was looking at Alchara in those blue eyes.


    "Discourteous as always, I see."


    "Well, we didn''t exactly part on the best of terms last time, Alchara," said Kiyora. "Why are you pretending to be Queen Dawn?" sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I am not," said Alchara. "I am Queen Dawn. Or it would be more accurate to say that Queen Dawn is my mortal incarnation. You see-"


    "Nevermind, I don''t care," said Kiyora. "What do you want?"


    "Well, first, I should give you some advice," said Dawn. "You take far too personal a role in the affairs of your subjects."


    "Well, I am a personal person," said Kiyora.


    "I am quite serious, Kiyora," said Dawn. "A goddess has an intimate connection with all her worshippers. The more the goddess acts, the stronger that connection becomes. Doing too much for them could cause them to rely on you as a crutch.


    "That would be most unfortunate."


    "Sure, whatever," said Kiyora. "Now, what is it?"


    "The demoness Arraxia has rebuilt Baltoth''s Retribution. She has extended her influence over the subjects of Laughing Wraith," said Queen Dawn. "As of this moment, she is gaining more and more power every day."


    "Uh, no, she isn''t," said Kiyora. "I''m extending my influence over the satyrs that used to worship Laughing Wraith too. And I''ve got connections with Antion. So if she tried anything, I could call on them for reinforcements."


    "Perhaps. Or they might decide you are not worth the effort," Queen Dawn noted.


    "What do you want, Alchara?" asked Kiyora. "I thought we''d established by now that I don''t like you and don''t want to spend any more time with you than necessary."


    Queen Dawn sighed. "The High Elves who dwell upon the elvish reservations have begun overpopulating. As a result, more and more must go abroad into foreign lands and colonies to make their fortune.


    "My subjects need more land. We have already conquered several islands in the eastern sea. Yet these are insufficient for our purposes."


    "Sucks to be you," said Kiyora with a smile. "That doesn''t sound like my problem."


    "It is your problem," said Dawn in irritation. "Even if the plight of the high elves means nothing to you, Seathorius belongs to the elves by right. It was our possession before Anoa the Butcher forced us into hiding. We were here long before the Dust Elves constructed Baltoth''s Retribution. We have a right to reclaim that which is ours, and I have already received assurances that I may do so with a free hand."


    "Oh, so you''re threatening me. Great, that''s great," said Kiyora. "Bring it on, bitch."


    "I am not threatening you," said Dawn. "Why do you always act as though I am a villain?"


    "I saved Actovosh, and you paid me back by trying to marry me off to some guy I didn''t even know," said Kiyora. "And you forced my best friend to give up a priceless artifact he earned so you''d leave me alone. And then you tried to convince me to help you commit ethnic cleansing on the satyrs.


    "Also, I have it on good authority that everything bad ever is your fault. And I''ve checked several sources on that. So I''m not taking their word for it.


    "Do these sound like the actions of a hero you?"


    Queen Dawn sighed. "I understand that many races have come to call Seathorius home in the time since it was taken from my people. But I have no choice. In forty years, the lands of the high elves will be unable to sustain their population.


    "We must expand, or we will starve."


    "Or you could stop breeding like rabbits," said Kiyora. "Just a thought."


    "In the days before Anoa the Butcher, the High Elves did so," said Queen Dawn. "I remember it very well. We tried to have fewer children so that the land could sustain us. But the humans continued to breed. They did not live alongside nature as we did.


    "We tried to convince them to stop. But they would not listen.


    "So, we were forced to thin their numbers."


    "And you wonder why Anoa the Bright didn''t like you," mused Kiyora.


    "What he did was not war," said Dawn. "It was simple butchery. He laid waste to entire civilizations, not of elves, but other races he deemed unfit to live. He made a wasteland and called it...


    "Well, he didn''t call it peace at all. Instead, he went straight back to war.


    "We may have hunted humans. But we would not have exterminated them as Anoa tried to do to us."


    "Oh wow," said Kiyora, "you''d never exterminate a species. I guess satyrs and black dragons don''t count, then?"


    "Black Dragons are not a race!" said Dawn. "I was only trying to kill Smyngoth''s entire family after he nearly wiped out the Gold Dragons! I never anticipated that Wrynncurth would survive! Let alone create a new race of cosmic horrors from the souls of his family!


    "And as for the satyrs, I had no intention of exterminating the species. I merely wish them to be driven from the land. That race has far too many holdouts to be destroyed in a single war. And in any case, satyrs are an abomination."


    "What makes them different from other species exactly?" asked Kiyora. "What, did you curse them too?"


    Queen Dawn sighed. "Long ago, each of the races was brought into being. A male and a female for each. From this union would their entire race descend. Alchara gave each race certain gifts-"


    "You are Alchara," said Kiyora.


    "Yes, and no," said Dawn. "I am more limited than her. I don''t usually remember all she does. The knowledge fades from my mind when unneeded. At any rate, I was the Queen of the Gods, and I gave each race their gifts.


    "The elves were granted long life and attunement to the spirit world. The dwarves were granted great durability and mastery of craft. Goblins were given the ability to live in places where no other race could survive. Halflings were given an affinity for the earth, and they could easily raise crops. Each race had such a power granted to them."


    "What did humans get?" asked Kiyora.


    "I... well, that is a rather complicated story," said Queen Dawn.


    "Complicated, how?" asked Kiyora. "And how did you screw it up?"


    "Well, humans weren''t even in the original plan for the first world," said Queen Dawn. "We had all the races lined up. But we realized that there was no way they would interact with each other. They needed to be more specialized.


    "We needed a middleman to bring them all together. So, after all the other races had been created, we assembled humans at the last minute. Basically, they could learn any ability, but not as quickly as the races that specialized in it."


    "So what was the problem?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Father of all humans, Lucius, had a competitive streak," said Queen Dawn. "He dedicated his life to churning out as many children as possible. Then he sent them to become apprentices to the other races. After that, he went out of his way to learn everything he could.


    "Though his children didn''t learn as fast as the other races, there were so many. They were bridging the gap. They invented writing to pass the information on and stole techniques from all races. If things had continued, none of the other races would have had a chance."


    "So you tried to exterminate them," guessed Kiyora.


    "No!" said Queen Dawn. "This is ages ago, before this world was even created. I''m not talking about the first humans in this world. I''m talking about the first humans in the world the gods created."


    "So what did you do?" asked Kiyora. "Send a strongly worded letter?"


    "We had made the humans too powerful," said Alchara. "So we decided to shorten their lifespan. They lived far shorter times than the other races. We also allowed the other races to branch out into other areas of expertise. In this way, a balance was restored to the races."


    "Wow, I''m sure that went over well," said Kiyora, rolling her eyes.


    "It went over terribly," said Alchara. "Lucius was enraged. He claimed we had stolen his race''s gift and given it to everyone else."


    "You kind of did," said Kiyora.


    "It was always the god''s plan to set limits on mortal lifespans," Dawn said. "None of the races ended up immortal. Even elves wither and die eventually.


    "But Lucius wouldn''t listen to anything we said. Instead, he became obsessed with regaining his lost immortality and turned to dark rituals. He forced his children to learn skills at younger and younger ages. Those that did not meet his expectations were banished from his sight.


    "His spells failed him. And eventually, he and his wife, Evoria, became old while the other races were still young. It was that which pushed him over the edge. He''d always hated the Father of my race. And knowing that he would live on for centuries while Lucius withered and died was a humiliation. One, he would not forgive.


    "In a rage, Lucius murdered Evoria and used her blood in a ritual to create a new race. One made after the image of his bloodthirst. The satyrs."


    "Gods, this is boring," said Kiyora. "I don''t care what happens to any of these people. Can I get the cliff notes version or something?" She was interested but wanted to avoid giving Alchara satisfaction.


    "Fine, you little brat!" snapped Dawn. "Lucius created the satyrs. Then he made their entire purpose in existence to destroy and devour all races that were not human. And they have plagued the world ever since. He then killed himself, the first suicide. Doing this created the impersonal force of entropy known as the Withering."


    "Wait, why would killing himself create the Withering?" asked Kiyora. "Why would killing his wife create the satyrs?" She was interested in that. It seemed like something worth knowing.


    "Because he was not just a human," said Dawn. "He was the Father of an entire race. Evoria was the Mother of that race. The energies of creation within them were far greater than any mortal before or since. When the Father or Mother of a race does something, it echoes throughout eternity.


    "When he murdered Evoria, it was an act of unforgivable evil. For the first man of a race to murder, his wife is something that has never happened before. Not even in prior universes. It created a ripple effect in the spirit world, whose effects are felt today. Humanity, as a whole, might have been tainted. The only reason it wasn''t was because he had had many children before he went over the edge."


    "Boring..." said Kiyora in a sing-song voice.


    "Why do you ask questions when you don''t want to hear the answers?" hissed Dawn.


    "Well, maybe because when I ask why satyrs don''t have the right to live, I want an actual reason," said Kiyora. "Not some boring, second-hand mythology you probably aren''t even telling the truth about."


    "Second hand... I WAS THERE!!" roared Dawn, eyes shining as light poured forth from her. It was Alchara speaking those words.


    "Yeah, I know," said Kiyora. "I''m just messing with you because I don''t like you."


    For a moment, Dawn held her gaze. Then finally, she relented. The glow faded, and the light was shut out. "At any rate, you must see that Arraxia has no intention of keeping her borders the same. When she is ready, she will attempt to seize your lands and bring the Nakmar under her control. If she does not destroy them first."


    "Yeah, probably," said Kiyora.


    "...And you do not intend to do anything about this?" asked Dawn.


    "Nope," said Kiyora. "I''m still weighing my options."


    "King Andoa II has assured me that if I launch an invasion, he will take no action against me," said Dawn. "If you assist me, we could weaken the satyrs considerably. I would gladly give you half of the territory we conquered.


    "In light of your preferences, we need not kill them all."


    Kiyora sighed. "I''ll tell you what; I''ll consult my advisors and see what they think, then I''ll get back to you. That okay?"


    "Ask whomever you desire," said Dawn. "However, know that I will not wait forever."


    "Whatever," said Kiyora before teleporting away.


    Kiyora arrived in one of the halls of the Palace of Arsheen. At once, she saw Massacre. The chimera was lying on the ground. As soon as Kiyora appeared, she rolled over. Kiyora kneeled and began to give her a belly rub.


    "Hey Massacre, who''s a good girl?" said Kiyora. "You''s a good girl. Hey, uh, where is William?"


    "Bah," said the goat head.


    "I''m standing right behind you," said William.


    Kiyora turned around in surprise and saw William reading a book on magic. The long-haired blonde boy was clad in robes and sitting by the fire. He looked tired. "Oh, hey, Will."


    "My name is William," he said. "How can I help?"


    "I was just looking for your dad," said Kiyora. "I kind of need his help on something."


    "He''s busy meeting with the representatives of the Artarq nobles," said William. "He replaced Asimir and his allies with men who are loyal. So they''ve all been afraid they''ll be next. Father is trying to assure them they are only at risk if they betray them. It could take hours."


    "Well, that sucks," said Kiyora. "I guess I''ll come back later."


    "What is it you need advice on?" asked William, putting down his book. "Did Alchara go back on her word?"


    "No, not exactly. She''s trying to get me to join in an alliance against the satyrs," said Kiyora. "She wants to invade them and get rid of them before Arraxia betrays us."


    "So that''s what she was planning," mused William.


    "You knew?" said Kiyora.


    "Well, Father mentioned that Queen Dawn has been meeting with King Andoa. Something about expanding her territory," said William. "Sixty years ago, he allowed the High Elves to conquer some isles in the Sea of Power. They enslaved the satyr populations and sold them to the Sornian Sugar Plantations."


    "What does that involve?" asked Kiyora.


    "You don''t want to know," said William. "Suffice it to say that it is more of a prolonged death sentence than slavery. Civilized cultures pay dwarves for such work. They are much more durable than most races, so they don''t suffer the same ill effects. But the nobles of Sorn are interested in profit, and if that means they must work an entire population to death, so be it.


    "There have been other attempts to expand recently, of course."


    "So what happened to the island?" asked Kiyora.


    "The elves established settlements on them. They then began emigrating in great numbers," said William. "I gather the High Elves had become overpopulated and needed the land."


    "I still want to know how they managed it," asked Kiyora. "I know humans mature quickly, but elves aren''t considered mature until they are at least sixty. No offense, but this seems more a human problem."


    "None taken," said William. "If you must know, the High Elven population was devastated by Anoa the Bright. It was just retribution for their atrocities. You see, he initially merely conquered Gel Carn and made that into his Kingdom. However, as his people grew and grew in number, the elves made war on them.


    "He didn''t take it well.


    "In the aftermath, Queen Dawn realized their lack of numbers had defeated them. Thus she reorganized her society to produce as many children as possible. For centuries female elves were expected to remain constantly pregnant. The hope was to restore their decimated population as quickly as possible.


    "In all fairness, many factions would have loved to wipe them out. So the added population probably saved them from extinction. They did need the warriors.


    "Now her efforts are paying off. Or so Rusara believes; I think they''re about to hit their limit."


    "Oh," said Kiyora. "We Dreamer Elves have something similar, but it has nothing to do with genocide. We have five females for every male, meaning that males are expected to have multiple wives. It''s screwed up.


    "Hey, where is Rusara anyway?"


    "She has business in other parts of Harlenor," said William. "She is a Dust Elf of great influence and can hardly afford to be here all the time. I''d tell you where she is, but I have no idea."


    "Right, well, what do you think I should do about all this?" asked Kiyora.


    William seemed to consider the question. "I wouldn''t ally with the High Elves." He said at last.


    "Why not?" asked Kiyora.


    "Aside from the fact that not all satyrs are evil?" asked William. "It doesn''t make sense from a pragmatic perspective. The High Elves have a highly organized military far stronger than yours. If you help them destroy the satyrs, you''ll end up as a vassal to them, at best. Assuming they don''t destroy you once you''ve outlived your usefulness."


    "Do you think Alchara would do that?" asked Kiyora.


    "You have hardly been friendly with her in the past." mused William. "But in truth, I don''t know. My education is less extensive when it comes to High Elves. However, I know that the elves hunted "lesser races" for sport long ago. They were constantly murdering them without defiance sent. The High Elves regard that time of their history as a Golden Age. That should tell you where their priorities lie."


    "So what do I do?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''ll talk to my Father. He has friends at court," said William. "They may be able to change King Andoa''s mind. As for what you can do. I''d ally with Arraxia."


    "You''re kidding," said Kiyora.


    "No. It is not in her interest to be wiped off the face of the map," said William. "She''ll need all the help she can get."


    "But she''s a demon, and you are a paladin," said Kiyora. "Why would you want me to work with her?"


    "Elranor himself allied with demons when both of them had a common enemy," said William. "Alliances shift and change with the fortunes of war. We must live with this reality, however much we admire our enemies or hold our allies in contempt."


    "But I can''t slaughter my people!" said Kiyora.


    "They are High Elves," said William. "You are a Dreamer Elf. You are different races."


    "Well, yes, but I mean, I live in a city where Alchara is worshipped above all else," said Kiyora. "If I kill her subjects, she could make life unpleasant for me."


    "Then, you must avoid a war," said William. "If you can form a united front with Arraxia, you may be able to convince Alchara it isn''t worth the risk. And if war does break out, then you will have to obey the rules of war. Treat the prisoners with the utmost respect. Make it clear that this is nothing personal.


    "I''m sorry, Kiyora, but short of appeasing Alchara, there does not seem to be any other option."


    "Damn it!" said Kiyora.


    Why did weird stuff like this always happen to her?

 Chapter 258 - Four: Negotiations

    Baltoth''s Retribution had been a shining castle of beautiful white stone. There had been soaring towers and elegant curves the last time Kiyora had seen it. Well, it had been a pile of rubble. But the last time she''d seen it complete, it had been elegant.


    Now it was half complete in its reconstruction. It towered instead of soared and had noticeably more spikes on it. Satyrs were working busily around it, and even a few dwarves. These Kiyora took to be those who had gone over to the demons.


    Amidst all this, Arraxia lounged at the top of one of the towers. Her tail was flicking as she basked in the rays of the sun. Her dark hair had fallen around her shoulders, and her eyes were closed as though asleep. The demoness'' frankly enormous bust was rising and falling. Kiyora reappeared next to her, suspecting she had been noticed.


    "So this castle looks a bit different from last time," Kiyora said.


    "Oh yes, I decided I ought to make a few changes," said Arraxia. "I spent some decades with my spirit bound to this castle, doing Melchious'' bidding. I thought it might look better in black."


    "Does it work?" asked Kiyora.


    "But of course," said Arraxia. "With Baltoth''s Retribution, I will be able to manipulate the terrain around it once again to do as I like."


    "So you''re going to bind your spirit to it again?" asked Kiyora.


    "No, of course not," said Arraxia. "That degradation was forced upon me by Melchious. No, I shall find a way to use it without any bother. So do tell me what brings me the pleasure of your company?"


    "The High Elves are planning to invade you," said Kiyora, tone conversational.


    "Yes, I had heard some reports from Doltier," mused Arraxia. "Satyrs don''t usually dare cross over the river to raid; I expect it may prove troublesome to defeat them. Are you here to suggest an alliance?"


    "No, I''m here to get whatever I can," admitted Kiyora. "Alchara has offered me half of your territory if I help her wipe out the satyrs. If I assist them, my Nakmar can show them all the secret ways, and I can overwhelm you. The thing is, I don''t trust Alchara not to betray me any more than I trust you."


    "My, you do seem capable of intelligent thought," said Arraxia, opening her eyes. "I suppose you wish me to make a counteroffer, do you?"


    "Well, it does seem reasonable," said Kiyora.


    "I offer nothing," said Arraxia. "Take it or leave it."


    "Are you sure about this?" asked Kiyora.


    "Why yes, yes, I am," said Arraxia. "We both know you cannot afford to let the High Elves gain a foothold here. They are the superior power and a far greater threat to both of us than either of us is to the other. An alliance is the natural course of action, and I know you need to be more stupid to submit to Alchara. And even if you were, you blame her for trying to marry you off.


    "You could never bring yourself to submit to her."


    "Cute," said Kiyora. "In case you hadn''t noticed, you are rebuilding Baltoth''s Retribution. If you ever get this thing working again, it could give you a significant advantage over my Nakmar. And with your recent converts among Wraith''s followers, I could be in trouble in a few years.


    "And the only power I''d be able to turn to would be the High Elves."


    "Oh, that is adorable," said Arraxia without much interest. "Couldn''t you simply appeal to your master, Duke Vanion?"


    "I could appeal to my ally," said Kiyora. "But I know that he isn''t one to rush into combat. If I ally with the demon constantly trying to kill his son, he might be reluctant to help me."


    "And I suppose you expect he will come running to your rescue when the High Elves take your lands?" mused Arraxia.


    "Of course not," said Kiyora. "But Vanion is very influential in Antion. He could convince King Andoa to pressure the High Elves to back off from any attack on Nakmar territory. On the other hand, you don''t care about what King Andoa thinks.


    "Which one inspires more sympathy? The innocent dwarves who the High Elves have betrayed? Or the scheming runt who made a deal with a demon and is now being consumed by it?"


    "Well, you seem to have thought this through," said Arraxia. "Very well, is there any assurance I can make that will convince you of my good intentions?"


    "I want partial control over Baltoth''s Retribution," said Kiyora.


    Arraxia sat up and turned to eye her suspiciously. "...Really?"


    "Yes," said Kiyora. "The Chieftains of the Nakmar and the rulers of the Satyrs will cooperate in its use. Both have veto power over the other''s decisions. Assuming we ever get the thing working, of course."


    "So, you would have me give up full control over this fortress and submit it to a committee?" asked Arraxia. "You''re bolder than I expected."


    "I''m taking a course on negotiating," said Kiyora.


    "That seems a remarkably advanced subject for a mortal child," muttered Arraxia.


    "I''m, and I''ve been in school for nineteen years," said Kiyora. "I''m well past basics. And I''m a teenager."


    "Yes, yes, you''re very smart." mused Arraxia. "I''ll make you a counterproposal. I''ll agree to your terms for a single condition."


    "What is it?" asked Arraxia.


    "I will be in command of this Alliance. I will decide our strategy," said Arraxia. "You will defer to me in all such matters. Do we have an agreement?"


    "Nope!" said Kiyora.


    Then she snapped her fingers for effect and teleported away.


    The next place she went, she had never been before. Teleporting areas like that was always troublesome. She had to focus, and little by little, the picture would form in her mind. When she got the image clearly, she could go there at once.


    In this case, the picture was of a forest of lush green moss and white trees. The leaves were of gold, and there were sparkles in the air. Honest to gods sparkles. From what Kiyora had heard, it was a picture of what the elven domains had looked like. Before Anoa the Bright went axe crazy on them anyway. She didn''t particularly care for it. Even so, the place had an undeniable sense of peace as she appeared on a walkway.


    One couldn''t imagine something dying in this place. Not plants, anyway.


    An elf with white hair, clad in equally white garments, stared at her as she appeared. His mouth was hanging open. After a moment, he shut it. "You are the Dreaming Goddess?"


    "Yeah, that''s me," said Kiyora. "I''d like to talk with Queen Dawn if you don''t mind. Or Alchara. Whichever one is closer."


    "We will bring you to her at once. Queen Dawn has been waiting for you," said the elf.


    "Thanks, I appreciate it," said Kiyora. "Oh, and you might want to look into building some handrails here."


    "We elves are not nearly as clumsy as other races." said the elf.


    "What if an ambassador slips and falls off your little treehouse here?" asked Kiyora.


    "Treehouse?" asked the elf, sounding insulted.


    "It wasn''t an insult," said Kiyora. "But where I''m from, we make our houses from living wood."


    "How do you do that?" asked the elf.


    "We ask them to form their limbs and roots into the shape of buildings," said Kiyora. "Of course, they have to be pretty big for that. Thousands of years old. So it isn''t something you can do easily."


    She was led through the various walkways and up a stair. There were no handrails to be seen there either. They came to a tall building from which the sound of a flute playing could be heard. Kiyora was escorted in and found that Queen Dawn was playing the flute.


    "Welcome to Qor''dana, Dreaming Goddess," said Dawn. "I''ve been expecting you. Please, sit down; I''ll have some wine brought at once."


    "No, thanks, I''ll have water," said Kiyora. "I''m underage."


    "I don''t understand," said Dawn.


    "You should, shouldn''t you?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, you refer to my status as Alchara''s mortal incarnation," said Dawn. "Yes, I am an extension of her will, but I do not possess all the information she has. When we met before, she was directly inhabiting me, so I knew things I shouldn''t."


    "Well, in any case, I''ll just have water," said Kiyora. "Children my age aren''t allowed to drink alcohol where I''m from."


    "Strange. When I was your age, I was already among the hunting parties," said Dawn. "But that was before the fall. So it is natural things should change." Water and wine arrived. Kiyora took a glass and sipped it. It was purer than any water she had tasted. And oddly, somehow more real.


    "We should discuss the details of our alliance," said Dawn. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yeah, we''ve got a problem," said Kiyora. "You see, shortly after Alchara left, I was approached by the Queen of the Satyrs, Arraxia. And she asked me to ally with her against a common enemy. You."


    "You don''t believe that, do you?" asked Dawn. "We are both elves."


    "But I rule over dwarves," said Kiyora. "And my people are reluctant to assist a higher power which they perceive may turn around and do the same to them."


    "Yet surely they have been hated enemies with the satyrs for centuries," said Dawn.


    "Yeah, but they also make truces with them and trade," said Kiyora. "It varies from week to week. If one satyr tribe gets too powerful, they may even unite with the dwarves to knock them down a peg. And that isn''t even getting into the Nakmar who have turned to worship demons."


    "I cannot believe what I am hearing," said Dawn. "You would consider the word of a fellow elf on par with a demon?"


    "Arraxia is twenty billion times better than Melchious," said Kiyora. "Before she came along, it was all cannibalism and raiding and sacrificing goats. She''s cut off the raids and is working to bring the satyrs out of the stone age.


    "See, she''s an incredible narcissist and wants huge temples built in her honor. But she can''t do that with a ragtag collection of cannibals."


    "And you trust her not to betray you?" said Dawn.


    "Of course, I don''t," said Kiyora. "I trust her to act in her self-interest. And possibly honor the letter of her word. I don''t trust her at all. I just am willing to work with her against a common enemy."


    "Then why have you come here?" asked Dawn.


    "Well, that''s the thing. I was hoping you might make me a better offer," said Kiyora.


    "You are playing both sides," surmised Dawn.


    "Pretty much," admitted Kiyora. "The Nakmar don''t like either of you much. If I''m going to justify allying, I''ll have to show them some real benefits from it."


    "Ah, I see. I see. I get the picture," said Dawn. "What exactly is it you want?"


    "Well, how about the Goldenwood Harp?" said Kiyora.


    "Out of the question," said Dawn. "That harp belongs to my goddess, not to me, and even if I could give it away, I would not. It was a gift from the Goddess of Music, Mia."


    "You are your goddess," said Kiyora.


    "And she has made it quite clear to me she would not part with it," said Dawn.


    "...I''m listening to any counteroffers you want to make," said Kiyora after a moment.


    "What about a controlling interest in the northwestern branch Savior''s Run?" asked Dawn.


    "Hmm?" said Kiyora, sipping her water.


    "When we take control of Seathorius, we will be able to tax the waterways," said Dawn. "Savior''s Run flows from the far north, between Seathorius and Qor''dana. However, it branches off about halfway through. One-half heads south through Antion and into the Ghost Mountains of Sorn.


    "The other runs through-"


    "The domain of the Nakmar, yes, I know; I don''t need a lesson in geography, lady," said Kiyora. "So let me see if I have this clear. I help you eliminate the satyrs, and then you give my Nakmar total control over the western branch?"


    "That is correct," said Dawn.


    "Okay, I''ll think about it. Thank you for the water," said Kiyora, finishing it and setting the glass down. "Have a nice day."And she disappeared again.

 Chapter 259 - Five: The Coming of Rioletta

    The next morning Kiyora made her way downstairs to find breakfast being cooked. The smell of bacon and eggs was in the air. The sunlight through the white curtains by the kitchen table was nice and bright, especially with how it filtered by the trees outside her yard. Mom was wearing an unusual apron she liked, but nobody else did. Her green-dyed hair was tied behind her head in a ponytail, and Kiyora could smell bacon in the air. From the looks of things, some of the greases had spattered on the glove front.


    Dad was just outside, looking super engrossed in a painting he was doing. His eyes looked oddly sad today, though.


    "You''re up earlier than is usual on the weekends, Kiyora," said Mom.


    "Yeah, I''ve been a bit busy in my dreams lately," said Kiyora. "Figured I''d take a break and leave early."


    "Ah, right," said Mom, "breakfast isn''t done, so you''ll have to wait a bit." She looked like she wanted to say something else.


    "No problem," said Kiyora. "Is something wrong, Mom?"


    "No. Nothing," said Mom. "Just my daughter communing with unholy spirits every night."


    "Mom, they''re not unholy," said Kiyora. "And I''m fighting that kind of spirit." Well, not really, but she didn''t need to know that.


    "That''s almost worse," said Mom. "Kiyora, a few months ago, I thought your dreams were harmless. Something you saw without any bearing on the real world. Now I find out that the things you see in them are real and can reach into this world.


    "And what''s worse is that nobody notices. Nobody talks about when He possessed everyone. When I mention it, I get a blank look before anyone even remembers what I''m talking about. It''s like the whole universe is working to make everyone forget."


    "Mom, don''t worry. Nobody got killed," said Kiyora.


    "What about next time?" asked Mom. "And the time after that? I thought people talking about monsters stalking the streets were conspiracy theorists. Now I wonder if they are only some of the time. Maybe... maybe it could happen again.


    "I almost killed you, Kiyora. I felt Him in my mind, and he twisted me around until my hands grasped your neck and squeezed."


    "Mom, it''s okay," said Kiyora. "I''ll never let anything like that happen again. I promise."


    "I should be saying that to you," said Mom. "You''re still a kid. You shouldn''t have to worry about things like this."


    "Mom, I''m thirty-nine," said Kiyora. "I can make my own decisions. Besides, it isn''t exactly real to me, anyway. I''m not as affected by things in that world as I am by things in this one. I think that is part of the Spirit World. It''s always shifting, but this world is much more real."


    Breakfast was finished, and they sat down to eat it. As they ate, Kiyora looked for some reason to get their minds off her dreams. "So, um, when do you think Dad will get back?"


    "It all depends on how well people like his new paintings," said Mom. "They''ve all been much darker since He came here. Though he doesn''t seem too affected."


    "Right," said Kiyora. "Um, I''ve got to meet with some friends at Gisora''s house today."


    "Going to the arcade?" asked Mom in a tired voice.


    "No, actually, we''re doing some detective work," said Kiyora.


    "Detective work?" Mom didn''t sound surprised. "This wouldn''t have anything to do with Laurus'' conspiracy theories, would it?"


    "To be fair, Laurus has already been proven right once," said Kiyora.


    "That is why I don''t want you looking into it!" snapped Mom. "What if you do find something?"


    "We''re not looking for a monster this time, Mom," said Kiyora. "Just a ship. See, we''re trying to figure out where this mystical disappearing ship called the Black Star is. I mean, where it would land. If it was hovering unseen around Actovosh.


    "Which it isn''t." It sounded weak, even to Kiyora.


    "And if you find anything?" asked Mom.


    "We''ll report it to the authorities. Honest," said Kiyora. "We did that last time too."


    "Fine, I''ll let you do this," said Mom. "But if this becomes another adventure, you''ll be grounded for sixty years. Now eat your breakfast. It''s getting cold."


    "Have fun storming the castle, dear," said Dad suddenly, roused from his trance.


    "Thank you, I will!" said Kiyora.


    "Don''t encourage her," said Mom.


    The walk to Gisora''s house could have been more exciting. As Kiyora walked, she saw people talking, window shopping, and laughing. One would never have guessed that the city had been possessed only a little while ago. Maybe she was spending too much time in her dreams. In dreams, things shifted all the time, always changing. But real life was constant.


    Gisora''s house was the largest of her friends. The roots had formed a mansion that was five stories high with more rooms than Kiyora could count. When she knocked on the door, it slid aside, and a servant answered.


    "Kiyora Yagos?" said the woman.


    "Yes, that''s me," said Kiyora.


    "Mistress Gisora is expecting you. Please come in." S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Kiyora was led to a large indoor living room {one of many} where she found Laurus, Gisora, and Reya. Tenius was there too. Laurus sat on the floor looking through a series of old newspaper articles. Gisora and Reya were on the couch talking with Tenius while sipping soda.


    "Hey, guys!" said Kiyora. "Sorry, I''m late!"


    "No problem," said Gisora. "Come on, sit down; I''ve got some soda here if you want it."


    "Right, thanks," said Kiyora. "Do you have any diet?"


    "We ran out a minute ago," said Reya.


    "Fine, I''ll take sugared, I guess." mused Kiyora. She reached for the soda bottle, but Tenius quickly poured her a cup. She blinked as he handed it to her. "Thanks, I guess."


    "Uh, no problem," said Tenius.


    "Now, maybe we can get started," said Gisora. "Laurus, will you clean that up and sit down?"


    "Some of it is relevant," said Laurus. But he complied. He reached for a cigarette.


    "And no smoking," said Gisora, slapping his hand away without looking up. As Laurus sat down, she sighed and looked around. "So last night I pulled the files on my Mom''s computer, and it turns out that the Black Star is high up there. All I could get on it was that the Department of Spiritual Defense was interested in it."


    "The Department of Spiritual Defense?" said Laurus in surprise. "That''s not their normal area of expertise. Shouldn''t the military be the ones concerned?"


    "Well, it turns out the military requested their expertise," said Gisora.


    "The Black Star was designed to enhance the powers of Dream Sages," mused Reya. "Weren''t they?"


    "Yes, so, what of it?" asked Laurus.


    "Well, maybe something went wrong," said Kiyora. "Maybe they opened a connection to the spirit world, which backfired." It had happened to her once or twice.


    "Come to think of it, the Black Star looks pretty creepy," said Gisora. "Usually, Emperor Ictargo prefers things fancy. I doubt it was just a change of style."


    "I can promise you it wasn''t just for show," said Reya. "Tree Ships are sentient beings. The type of magic they use changes them intimately."


    "Maybe the Black Star was using a darker enhancement method," suggested Laurus.


    Tenius looked at the picture of the Black Star. He ran his eyes over it as if trying to take in every detail. Then he looked up. "I''ve seen a ship like this."


    "What do you mean, Tenius?" asked Gisora.


    "Well, I mean, I haven''t seen a ship like this, but I''ve seen a picture of a ship like this," said Tenius quickly. "My grandpa fought the Dark Elves once and has a picture of a vessel he captured. They look just like this."


    "Right, the Dark Elves use a different kind of tree ship, right?" said Laurus.


    "They don''t use tree ships at all," said Tenius "The details are classified. But I heard some stories from my grandpa. He boarded one of their vessels. He found hundreds of our people prisoners in stasis. They were always keeping a lot of prisoners."


    "Maybe we could get a look at one of these ships?" suggested Gisora. "I could see if my mom could pull some strings..."


    "I don''t think that''ll work," said Tenius. "After the Dreamer Empire took over, Narvan Emperor Ictargo ordered them all destroyed. Their schematics were all burned, and all knowledge regarding them was purged. Everyone who knew anything about them was sworn to secrecy."


    "What was so horrible about these ships?" asked Reya. "It must be pretty bad for Emperor Ictargo to want all of them eradicated?"


    "I don''t know," admitted Tenius.


    "They were kidnapping us," said Laurus suddenly.


    Everyone looked at him in surprise. "Who? What are you talking about?" asked Kiyora.


    "Don''t you remember?" asked Laurus. "The war between Dark Elves and Dreamer Elves. It began because the Dark Elves started launching raids. They were taking people alive. Why would they do that to Dreamer Elves in particular?


    "And why would they keep them on Dark Elven war vessels that were going into combat?"


    "Grandpa has always said that we are connected to the spirit realm. One much stronger than other races," murmured Tenius. "Do you think that has something to do with it?"


    "I don''t know," admitted Laurus.


    "It is too soon to make any kind of judgment," said Gisora. "We need more information. Reya, did you finish that report on possible refueling locations for the Black Star?"


    "Yeah, um, nowhere," said Reya.


    "What do you mean "nowhere?" asked Gisora.


    "I mean nowhere," said Gisora. "Landing zones for tree ships are kept under a lot of security. So if the Black Star wanted to land, it would be swarmed immediately."


    "Maybe the ship was never really lost," said Laurus.


    "What do you mean?" asked Tenius.


    "Maybe it disappeared off the map on some kind of secret mission," said Laurus. "It was just a thought."


    "I don''t see what kind of secret mission could take it to the capital city of the Dreamer Empire," said Tenius. "Emperor Ictargo doesn''t have to be secretive here."


    "Can we please just drop it?" asked Kiyora. "It seems like this is a dead-end, and I''m sure the government can handle this."


    "You mean like they handled Laughing Wraith?" asked Laurus.


    "I thought we were trying to forget that," said Gisora.


    "That was a one-time mistake," said Kiyora. "And anyway, many people got fired for that fiasco."


    "Whatever you say," said Laurus.


    "Anyway, why don''t we all go to the mall?" asked Gisora. "We could get something to eat there and window shop?"


    "Sure, whatever."


    "I actually can''t come," said Reya. "Gisora and I were going to do some studying."


    "Oh right," said Gisora. "Well, you three will have to go without me."


    "Right, okay, I guess that leaves just the three of us," said Laurus. "Tenius, are you interested in any video games?"


    "Uh, not really," said Tenius.


    "Card games?" said Laurus.


    "No," said Tenius.


    "Model building?" said Laurus.


    "No," said Tenius.


    "Books on conspiracy theories?" asked Laurus.


    "No," said Tenius.


    "Do you have any defining characteristics at all?" asked Kiyora.


    "That''s a little harsh," said Laurus.


    "Well, I mean, I like farming," said Tenius. "Back when I was living at my home I grew carrots and things. Although Grandpa trains me in swordplay and things like that as well."


    "So what do you do with your royal allowance?" asked Gisora.


    "Well, mostly, it has just been piling up," admitted Tenius. "No matter how much of it we give to charity, more always arrives."


    "Right, I''m going to introduce you to civilized society at the hobby shop," said Laurus. "Come on; you have much to learn, my young apprentice."


    "I''ll come too," said Kiyora. Then she stopped herself. Why the hell did she volunteer? Well, it was too late to back out now.


    The mall was different from most buildings in Actovosh. For one thing, it had been built in the way of humans. Not one bit of it had been constructed from the limbs of Actovosh. Escalators connected many floors. At any time, one could look down from the railing to see the very bottom level. Not that Kiyora liked looking down, the height made her feel dizzy.


    There were also elevators and flowing fountains. And there were shops of all kinds. From clothes stores to books to hiking gear.


    The hobby shop was Laurus'' favorite place in the mall. It used to be a bookstore, but since people didn''t buy as many books as they used to, the owners had branched out. Kiyora had never had much of an interest in books. She much preferred to listen to them in a book on tape. Instead, she went to the coffee shop, which had been made there. She got herself a drink and a snack and ate both hungrily. After finishing that and getting sick of waiting, she walked to find Tenius and Laurus.


    She found them looking at some of the RPGs. Tenius was looking at them in bewilderment. "So, what is the deal with these books?"


    "They''re rule books," said Laurus. "See, you create a character from scratch and pretend to be that character with a party of other players. Then you have a GM who plays all the other characters that oppose that player."


    "So you sort of insert yourself into a fictional world?" asked Tenius.


    "Sure, let''s go with that," said Laurus.


    "Have you played this game?" asked Tenius, taking out a book.


    "Actually, no," said Laurus. "Though I did buy it. No one else in my family is interested, so I haven''t gotten the chance." He looked up to Kiyora, then to Laurus. "Hey, I just remembered I have to buy something."


    "What?" said Tenius.


    "Well, Dad wanted me to pick him up some wine on my way back," said Laurus. "I won''t be a minute."


    "Aren''t you underage?" asked Tenius. "How are you even going to buy it?"


    "Relax, man," said Laurus. "Nobody cares about those rules anyway." And he walked off. He lit a cigarette as soon as he was out of the store.


    "So why does Laurus smoke so much?" asked Tenius.


    "He has a lot of bad habits," said Kiyora. "See, uh, he kind of got possessed by a monster for years and years, and I think it affected him. Still, he''s a pretty nice guy."


    Tenius remained silent. "So, um, do you want to get some coffee."


    Kiyora felt like her heart was beating a thousand miles an hour. Words could hardly be formed in her throat as she had to fight down a blush. "No," said Kiyora firmly, "Thank you."


    The answer seemed to surprise Tenius. He remained silent as though having no idea how to react. "Oh, right; you already went to the shop earlier, didn''t you?"


    "Yes," said Kiyora. Why did Laurus have to bring Tenius into their circle of friends exactly? He didn''t seem any more comfortable here than her. "Why don''t we get out of here? I''m pretty much done looking at books."


    "So, what do you like to look at?" asked Tenius.


    Kiyora considered the question. "I''m a fan of art. My Dad is a painter."


    "You want to look for a place where they sell paintings?" asked Tenius.


    Her heart skipped a beat. This was getting irritating. "I''d much rather find Laurus, to be honest," said Kiyora.


    Then suddenly, there was a scream. Soon other cries of dismay came from outside. Kiyora turned and rushed out of the bookshop. Above the ceiling were dozens of huge black spiders, one of them nearly six feet long and three feet high. They were scuttling down the walls. Others were lowering through a broken skylight by threads.


    Kiyora saw a beautiful woman with red-dyed hair fleeing. Her foot caught on a thread of silk that had been laid, and she fell. She struggled to free herself, but the spider dragged her back towards it. Gripping her in its legs, it pulled her up. From there, it turned her round and round, covering her in silk threads. She screamed and screamed the entire time. The woman sobbed while the spider wrapped her up until she was utterly cocooned.


    It wasn''t a cocoon like a regular spider. It was not a bundle. Instead, it clung to her. Every curve and feature of the woman was visible. From the shape of her breasts to the look of horror on her face. Why was this fascinating? And why would she like to watch it? This was sick! Sick and wrong!


    The woman was dragged away through the skylight, and Kiyora shuddered. Looking down, she realized that she could have helped her. No, she''d never have gotten there in time. And she''d been in shock.


    "Kiyora, we have to go!" said Tenius.


    Kiyora was startled. She felt something mustering within her. A power she had felt before, which was now welling up again. "We''ve got to help them!"


    "Help how?" asked Tenius. "By getting webbed up too? Let''s find Laurus and get out!"


    "Well, well, well, if it isn''t just the person I was looking for," said a cheerful voice.


    Kiyora turned to see a spider. But this one was different and far larger. Instead of mandibles and eyes, the body led into a beautiful woman''s upper body. She was slim, with pale, purplish skin. Her hands were clawed, her hair a dark purple, and she had three eyes.


    "What do you want?" asked Kiyora.


    "What do I want? My, how very nice of you to ask," said the spider creature. "I''m a collector of sorts. My name is Rioletta, the Weaver of Fates. I seize elves and bind them to drain their torment. A little hobby between weaving the strands of fate. Do try to make this interesting, both of you."


    Then she cut with her hand, sending silk threads toward them. Tenius pushed Kiyora to one side and pulled her away. Kiyora tried to summon the power she had felt before, but it was strangely elusive now that she was looking for it.


    Then she felt something catch her by the foot. She was dragged backward. The sensation of fear surged through her. She felt the same thing when she''d first seen Laughing Wraith years ago.


    She forced herself past it and saw Rioletta drawing her gradually backward. Tenius grabbed her hand and tried to pull her back. Yet this only seemed to make Rioletta enjoy things. "Yes, please struggle! Struggle! It only makes it better!"


    Kiyora found the power she had been looking for. The thread broke, and she felt her power surging through her. She stood and-


    "Excuse me," said a voice.


    And then a bottle spun out of nowhere and smashed against Rioletta''s head. The thread fell from her hands as clear liquid covered her body. They looked up to see Laurus leaning against the side of the railing. A lit cigarette was clamped between his teeth.


    Rioletta snarled as she felt the stuff all over her. "Wine, you little fly? I''ll tear out your throat!"


    And she rushed toward him to kill him. But even as she descended on him, Laurus rolled away, took the cigarette from his mouth, and threw it. The lit end hit the wine-soaking Rioletta, and she caught aflame. With a screech, she hit the railing, which bent and broke and fell downwards into the fountain below. There was a crash and a crash of rage as Rioletta pulled herself up.


    "Feel free the try," said Laurus.


    "Laurus, that was awesome!" said Kiyora.


    "Less talking, more running," said Laurus.


    They ran. But the spiders were now all scuttling toward them from every direction. Laurus led them down the stairs and out into an underground parking lock. Yet no sooner had they fled through than they found themselves facing three spiders.


    Dozens of men and women were piled high around, bundled up. All of them had perfect expressions of horror on their faces. The spiders rushed at them at once. Kiyora raised a hand and felt her power rise.


    There was a flash of blue light, and the creature screeched. They scuttled away in terror. Rushing down the parking lot, they found more and more of the spiders coming out around them. Kiyora used her powers again and again. But the bursts which she unleashed were hard. She''d only used them sparingly before. She felt sweat falling from her brow. Her hands were shaking, and it was all she could do to keep running.


    Finally, they were surrounded by the creatures. And Kiyora could not manifest the power to summon anything more.


    "What are these things?!" said Tenius.


    "Spiders," said Laurus.


    "I know that!" said Tenius.


    The creatures rushed at them. Yet then they halted. A shield of orange light surrounded them. The closest of the creatures were burned and reduced to ashes in moments. Kiyora looked around. "Emperor Ictargo?"


    "Has this happened before?" asked Laurus.


    The creatures wailed at the shield in unison. There was power in that screech. It hurt just to listen to it. Tenius screamed while the shield flickered. Which meant it couldn''t be Emperor Ictargo making it. Ictargo was not this weak. Kiyora looked and realized it was Tenius. Little by little, the shield was caving in. Any minute now, the shield would fail. Then they would be wrapped in those horrifying threads like everyone else.


    Then a surge of green lights engulfed the entire parking garage. Kiyora had to shield her eyes as the creatures died in moments. Walking into sight was a plain woman with red hair. She was clad in white robes and holding a double-bladed sword. On either side of her were white armored soldiers.


    "Lieutenant Escalus?" said Kiyora in surprise.


    "You three, get back quickly," said Escalus. "Move."


    Kiyora turned and saw dozens of spiders rushing into sight. They fled behind Escalus, who surged forward with her companions. They moved in a blur, seeming to be in many places simultaneously. Their blades sliced through the creatures with practiced ease. Whenever the beasts died, they were reduced to green blood. Five of them were slain by Escalus in moments, while her companions did just as well.


    Finally, no more spiders came after them. Escalus spun her blade around in a flourish before looking at her companions. "Sarin, Oser, keep an eye on them; the rest of you move in. Let''s move people."


    People? Who else was here?


    Then Kiyora noticed others emerging. It was not that they hadn''t been visible. It was more like they had made themselves beneath notice. There were dozens of them.


    "What do you think is going on?" asked Laurus.


    "How should I know?!" asked Kiyora. "And why are you so calm?!"


    "I spent years with Laughing Wraith in my head," said Laurus. "This kind of thing is tame.


    "What I want to know is what Escalus was doing so near at hand."


    "What do you mean?" asked Tenius.


    "Those spiders came down here in like thirty seconds," said Laurus. "How could the DSD have mobilized and gotten here this quickly in this kind of force? I think they were aware something was going to happen."


    "They probably just detected her coming ahead of time," said Tenius. "Maybe they''ve sent someone to watch me. Or you."


    "Or both," noted Laurus, drawing out his lighter and another cigarette.


    "Give it a rest, will you!" As Kiyora snatched both away, she realized that her problems were far from over. "Mom is going to kill me."


    Another adventure.

 Chapter 260 - Six: Grounded

    The spider''s attack on the mall lasted two more hours. The DSD managed to destroy many creatures in a series of explosive battles. Now and then, you could hear the sounds of attack names being called and explosive weaponry. Rioletta escaped, though, alongside a large number of captives. While she was on the onbranch, news of it flashed across Kiyora''s mind as if it were the strangest thing in the world. Yet she suspected, no, knew, that in a few days, it would be pulled.


    And everyone would begin to forget again.


    Of course, she had bigger problems than just that.


    "You are grounded, Young Lady!" said Mom.


    "But Mom-" began Kiyora.


    "I told you not to go into anything dangerous, and you directly ignored me!" said Mom.


    "But I wasn''t even looking for the Black Star when the spiders attacked," said Kiyora. "I was just checking out the mall with Laurus and Tenius!"


    "I don''t want to hear it!" said Mom. "For the next week, you aren''t going anywhere except school! Now go to your room!"


    "I hate you!" shouted Kiyora before storming upstairs.


    She threw herself onto the bed and looked up at the ceiling. As she did, she remembered how she had reacted to seeing those people bound up in silk. Why had she responded that way? It had been horrible beyond description. Yet it had gotten her far more interested than she would have liked to believe.


    Did she have a kink for that kind of thing? What did that say about her? She hadn''t reacted the same way with Wraith. But then Wraith had been pure cruelty. There was none of the physical element.


    Why did none of this seem real?!


    On a whim, she picked up the phone and made a call. Laurus picked up. "Who is it?"


    "Hey, Laurus," said Kiyora, "is everything alright?"


    "I''m fine," said Laurus. "No one would care if I got home late. However, Dad was pretty pissed at me for not bringing the wine. He uh... never mind. How did your Mom take it?"


    "I''m grounded," said Kiyora. "Something has been bugging me, and I wanted to talk to you first."


    "What is it?" asked Laurus.


    "Why did no one die when Laughing Wraith possessed the entire city?" asked Kiyora.


    "Why are you asking me that?" asked Laurus. "Would you rather someone had died?" There was an edge in his tone.


    "No!" said Kiyora. "But... look, I''ve seen how he operated in the dream world, okay. What he did here was tame in comparison. Did you hold him back or something?"


    "The city wasn''t as deep in his power as it could have been," admitted Laurus. "But no, I didn''t. You''ve got to understand we were kind of the same being. His mind occupied the same space as my mind. One minute I''d be doing something normal, then he''d manifest and make me do something.


    "Even so, I... I don''t think it even occurred to him to try killing anyone. Me going after you with a shotgun was my idea."


    "But that isn''t anything like the Wraith in the dream world," said Kiyora. "Even if he didn''t kill people, he mutilated them horribly. But no one was even seriously hurt."


    "I don''t mean it didn''t occur to him to do something horrible," said Laurus. "I mean in the sense of... how do I say it? Okay, when you are late for school, it doesn''t occur to you to sprout wings and fly there, does it?"


    "No," said Kiyora. "Why would it?"


    "It wouldn''t," said Laurus. "Because that is not something you can just do. Not without powerful magic, anyway. So because it is an ingrained limitation, you don''t think about straining it."


    "Are you saying that Laughing Wraith could not kill people?" asked Kiyora. That was just weird.


    "No," said Laurus. "I''m saying he seemed to regard it as something he couldn''t do. Not here, anyway. It infuriated him to no end."


    "So then, what was he trying to do?" asked Kiyora.


    "Wraith didn''t make plans," said Laurus. "He just did stuff. His ideal world was a universe where everyone was stuck in a perpetual nightmare. Unable to wake up or die.


    "A universe without death. A universe of perpetual misery," He paused. "And on that pleasant note, I''m going to bed. Sweet dreams."


    "Okay," said Kiyora. "Good night." She hung up, set down the phone, and leaned back on her pillow. She decided she''d deal with the dream world for now. "Okay, okay, so where was I? Right, there was that whole playing the sides thing. Okay, I think I''d better get a second opinion on all this."


    She had trouble getting to sleep. The day''s events still bothered her. When eventually she drifted off, she found herself in a training field. There she saw William, holding his sword and shield, clad in his black skull armor.


    "Hey, Will-" began Kiyora. Then she noticed Raynald De Chevlon rushing at him. "Oh, you''re busy."


    Raynald was clad in bright armor. The steel ring he always wore on the finger of his withered arm shone over mail-clad fingers. He surged at William and struck with a serrated blade. William defended against a flurry of one-armed blows, holding his well. Kiyora sighed.


    "Right," she said, "I''ll just sit here and wait while you two go at it."


    And she looked around to realize she was standing in the courtyard of the palace of Arsheen. There was an audience as well. The Lady Azgora and her retainers were watching the fight by a pavilion. Her golden hair was tied behind her head. She was clad in her silver armor. Duke Vanion was also there, clad in a blow cloak that concealed his body. William''s younger siblings, the twins Soren and Calgora, were held by servants nearby.


    Kiyora walked to the Duke. Vanion nodded to her. "Dreaming Goddess, you return."


    "Yes," said Kiyora. "What is going on?"


    "I think your powers of perception are sufficient to understand that much," said Vanion.


    Kiyora turned back to the fight. William was circling as Raynald continued his offensive. William kept the shield up, and none of Raynald''s strikes were getting through. Kiyora looked to Azgora. "Raynald fights William all the time. What''s the big deal?"


    "I have been instructing William to use his shield," said Azgora. "It is my hope he will finally defeat Witherarm."


    "You should not name him, so, Azgora," said Vanion.


    "I despise him, and the feeling is returned," said Azgora. "Were it not for you, we would surely have killed the other."


    Kiyora looked back to the fight. It was going on much as expected. William seemed to be playing defensively. "This is boring. All he''s doing is defending."


    "That was my idea," said Vanion. "Raynald has only one good arm, so he cannot teach William to use a shield. Thus it fell to Azgora to instruct him in the art. Since she had other duties, she needed more time. So William was primarily trained in Raynald''s aggressive one-handed style.


    "He uses it on reflex. I suggested he attempt a more defensive strategy to tire Raynald out."


    "So do you think he''ll beat him?" asked Kiyora.


    Raynald lashed out and, this time, caught the edge of William''s shield with the serrations of his blade. With a wrist movement, he knocked the shield wide and then twisted his weapon around. William parried the initial blow and several more, but Raynald gave him no time to recover. He was driven back in a flurry of lightning-fast blows, then lost his footing and fell. In an instant, Raynald''s sword was at his throat. The ring on Raynald''s withered ceased to glow.


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    "That ring on Raynald''s finger," said Kiyora. "What is it? Is it magical?"


    "That?" asked Vanion. "I don''t know. He always wears it, however. I''ve never seen him without it. Not even when we were boys; it must be magical if it grew with his fingers."


    The silence held for a moment. Raynald sheathed his sword and drew off his helm to reveal his scarred and evil-looking face. However, it might have been handsome and rogueish without all the marks. "Well done, William," he said. "Seathorius and Khasmir have done wonders for your skill."


    "It doesn''t seem to have helped me much against you," said William as he stood up.


    "Well, I am the greatest swordsman ever to live, so that is to be expected," said Raynald. "Still, I almost took that contest seriously. You should be proud."


    Azgora stood and approached William. "Your defense is too static. You did not use enough footwork and became complacent. You would have paid for it with your life in true battle."


    "None of my other students can match him yet," said Raynald. "Well, except Tanith. But she''s older and has more experience. You might show the boy some respect."


    "I would see you continue to improve yourself," said Azgora. "Felix, bring us spears."


    Felix came from the sidelines carrying two spears. Raynald''s expression darkened. But Azgora paid him no more notice. He sheathed his blade and stalked over to stand on the sidelines.


    "Why does Lady Azgora hate Raynald so much?" whispered Kiyora to Felix.


    "Azgora considers physical disabilities a sign of moral weakness," said Felix. "A sort of curse bestowed by the gods. She''s suspected that-" He paused. "Why am I telling you this? You''ve been coming in and out for months; how is it possible you don''t know this?"


    "Eh, I don''t pay all that much attention to things I''m not interested in," said Kiyora. "Plus, I haven''t talked with Lady Azgora yet."


    Felix paused. "Well, in any case, Lady Azgora hates Raynald because he has a withered arm. Raynald, on the other hand, is the swordmaster for Duke Vanion. He trains the troops in whatever stronghold he is in.


    "The catch is that because of his withered arm; he can''t train wall infantry."


    "Wall infantry?" asked Kiyora.


    "Okay, there are two kinds of infantry," said Felix. "Wall infantry and mobile infantry. Wall infantry form a shield wall with spears and hold the enemy army in place. Mobile infantry fight in melee and are meant to flank and outmaneuver the enemy. Raynald is one of the greatest swordsmen in Harlenor, but he can''t use a shield, so he can only train mobile infantry." He paused. "Didn''t Azgora tell you about this a few months ago?"


    "She did?" asked Kiyora. "Oh, right, I forgot."


    Felix sighed. "Lady Azgora takes charge of training wall infantry because of that. And she''s very good at him, but it is a mark of shame that he has to have her fill in for him, and it reminds him of his disability. So Raynald hates her because of that."


    "I always figured it was because she was always calling him-" began Kiyora.


    "Don''t say it," hissed Felix in an urgent tone.


    "What?" said Kiyora.


    "Azgora is the only person allowed to say that. Anyone else dies," said Felix. "In Antion, a couple of nobles used the insult on him and ended up dead in duels. Their friends all ganged up on him and tried to murder him, and he killed all of them too. After that, Raynald was commanded to leave the city, and people stopped mentioning it.


    "They call it the two-hour massacre.


    "Raynald only tolerates it from Azgora because she is Vanion''s wife. And because she is one of the few people who can match him in a fight."


    "Who won?" asked Kiyora.


    "When they fought?" asked Felix. "Vanion broke it up before a victor could emerge, but I''d put my money on Lady Azgora."


    "Why?" asked Kiyora.


    "She can use a shield and is stronger," said Felix. "It would be her battle to lose."


    Kiyora turned her attention back to William''s fight with Azgora. However, it was more of a stalemate. Both circled the other, looking for weaknesses. Every so often, they would clash, and William would end up the worse off. "William isn''t doing very well, is he?"


    "No, he is not," said Felix. "He doesn''t have as much practice with a spear and shield."


    The fight halted suddenly when two children started crying. Kiyora looked up and realized that all the fighting had woken up the children. Azgora halted her battle and stood up straight.


    "Your brother and sister desire to be fed," said Azgora. "I will attend to them."


    "Why is she taking her children to watch combat training?" asked Kiyora.


    "Lady Azgora believes that war is the ultimate purpose of existence," said Felix. "She wants her children to experience it as soon as possible."


    "Yeah, but she sheltered William, didn''t she?" asked Kiyora.


    "It is a cultural thing, I think," said Felix. "In Lady Azgora''s homeland of Themious, men are treated as property and regarded as weak. Azgora likes that men in Harlenor are competent. But she was somewhat conflicted regarding how she should treat William.


    "Or so I assume. This is largely theory.


    "Is there a particular reason you are here?"


    "Oh, see, the High Elves are planning to invade Seathorius, and they want my help to wipe out the satyrs," said Kiyora. "But I don''t trust them any more than I trust Arraxia. So I offered Arraxia an alliance, and I''ve started playing both sides to try and get the best deal.


    "Sort of a policy of enlightened self-interest."


    "That makes sense," said Felix. "And you intend to ask Duke Vanion for help?"


    "Yes," said Kiyora.


    "Want my advice?" asked Felix.


    "Sure, I guess," admitted Kiyora.


    "You don''t want either of them to win. The status quo is to your benefit," said Felix. "The best end for you is one where both sides fail to achieve anything. If Arraxia destroys the elven armies, she''ll want to invade Qor''Dana. If the Elves defeat Arraxia, they''ll want to extend their influence over the Nakmar.


    "King Andoa has spent most of his life trying to fix relations with the High Elves and has largely succeeded. He won''t throw that away to save a bunch of dwarves. The Nakmar will end up being vassals in your lands."


    "Right," said Kiyora. "And why are you going behind Duke Vanion''s back to tell me this?"


    "Duke Vanion would agree with me," said Felix. "He doesn''t want anyone to gain total dominance over Seathorius as long as he can use Savior''s Run for his ends. Also, I''ve invested in some business ventures in Seathorius. Wine. The satyrs sell it to the Otters, who sell it to my men, who then sell it in Artarq.


    "If the Elves genocide the satyrs? No more wine. If the satyrs become the dominant power in Seathorius? They start making war on their neighbors. No more wine."


    "What exactly are you doing with the money you make from all this?" asked Kiyora.


    "Make more money," said Felix. "Though I use a large portion of it in the service of Duke Vanion. I''m hoping to pay for the army."


    "For what?" asked Kiyora.


    "For war, obviously," said Felix. "The raishan crisis ended just before a new wave of mercenaries arrived in Artarq. We''ve put them to work, weeding out the remnants of the raishans. But there is no loot to be gained from that, so we have to pay them somehow.


    "Duke Vanion also wants to keep them around for a bit. I''m not sure why."


    "What are you trying to gain by all this?" Kiyora was curious.


    "Aside from more money?" said Felix with a smile. "It ingratiates me to Duke Vanion, and Duke Vanion is becoming more powerful daily."


    "Right. Hey, thanks for the help Felix," said Kiyora. "I''m going to go make plans right away."


    And she teleported away.


    Arraxia was not lounging when Kiyora found her. She was in the throne room of Baltoth''s Retribution. And she was hanging from the ceiling by her tail, which had wrapped around the chandelier. Her eyes were closed, and she had grown wings. Said wings were now veiled around her like those of a bat when sleeping.


    When Kiyora approached, her eyes opened, and the wings disappeared. Arraxia crossed her arms and stretched her neck."Well, I see you''ve come back. What is it you want now?"


    "Oh, nothing," said Kiyora. "I just thought I''d tell you I talked to Queen Dawn of the High Elves. She says she''ll give me the western half of Savior''s Run to do as I will if I help her conquer you."


    "And you trust her to honor her word?" asked Arraxia.


    "I trust her about as much as I trust you," admitted Kiyora. "Anyway, I kind of like her offer. It''ll give me much more land, and I won''t have to worry about you scheming anymore."


    "You''re trying to pressure me into making concessions," noted Arraxia. "It won''t work."


    "Oh, I don''t want any concessions," said Kiyora. "I just want our earlier agreement with only one tiny change. I want to be in charge."


    "And why would I want to let you command my armies?" asked Arraxia.


    "It''s in your best interests as well," said Kiyora with a shrug. "If you were in command, the elves could tell Antion that they are fighting an evil demon. If I''m in command, they are just launching unprovoked aggression."


    "...As you wish, my dear Kiyora," said Arraxia.


    Then she dropped down from the chandelier and made a perfect three-point landing. "I shall indulge you. You will be given joint control of Baltoth''s Retribution. And my armies shall fight alongside yours, and you will be in command. With the understanding that if you fail, I will take command and will not be questioned."


    "Kay," said Kiyora. "Now, let''s get down to business. What would you suggest we do to defeat their invasion?"


    "Well, provided I can fix Baltoth''s Retribution, I planned to shift the terrain. The elves will walk right into an ambush," said Arraxia. "Then we can slaughter them all."


    "Right, I like it," said Kiyora. "Just one change. How about we use Baltoth''s Retribution to waste the elves'' time until they get bored and go home?"


    "You''re joking," said Arraxia in deadpan.


    "You used the castle to direct William here, didn''t you?" asked Kiyora. "All we have to do is keep them running around in circles until they get so sick of it that they quit the field."


    "Elves enjoy music," said Arraxia. "I''m not sure it is physically possible for them to become bored."


    "Don''t worry," said Kiyora, "you always bore me."


    "Adorable," said Arraxia. "I do not like this plan. It would leave their army intact. I think I''d much rather just kill them all. More dead elves could only improve the universe."


    "Well, too bad," said Kiyora. "I don''t want a reputation as a Dark Lord, so we''re going to humiliate them a little. We have to use this castle." S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes, and there lies the problem," said Arraxia, tail flicking around her. "Baltoth''s Retribution is quite inoperable."


    "Oh," said Kiyora. "So, how do we fix it?"


    "Melchious managed to get it operating by forcing me to bind my spirit to it," said Arraxia. "I''m certainly not going to do that again. I only just escaped from this castle; I''m not going back. But without being bound up in it, I''m having great trouble controlling the landscape.


    "The kind of precise misdirection I used against William is simply impossible. So unless we can find a way to regain that control, we''ll have to use my plan of killing them all."


    "Okay, okay, so we''ll mobilize the Nakmar and the satyrs and get them ready for war just in case," said Kiyora. "Now, how do we fix it?"


    "I lack the raw power to control Baltoth''s Retribution," admitted Arraxia reluctantly. "Not without merging with it. You might possess that power, but you have no experience. If we join your power with my skill, we might achieve what you want to do."


    "So how do we do that?" asked Kiyora.


    Arraxia motioned, and part of the wall receded to reveal a passageway. With a strut of her hips, she made her way to the passage. Turning, she beckoned to Kiyora with one finger. "Follow me."

 Chapter 261 - Seven: The Bloodless War

    Most of Baltoth''s Retribution was plain and unassuming. Yes, the outside appearance was very impressive. But as soon as you went inside, it had always been without adornment. Yet this passage led into a room altogether different. The walls in this place were forged of crystal.


    Looking into the walls showed Kiyora''s reflection wherever she walked. Yet it wasn''t entirely her reflection. She saw herself as she could have been had she made different choices. Some were insignificant. Too much ice cream led to her being a bit chubby. Others were horrible. She saw a version of herself with a haunted look in her eyes. Looking deeper, she saw that this version of herself had killed Laurus.


    How had she managed that? He''d had a shotgun.


    But they were illusions. She was who she was. Her free will had made the choices she had made. What she was looking at were not realities but potential realities. Things that might have been but were not.


    As they went lower, the crystals gave way to images on the walls. She saw pictures of Dust Elves. They were forging a mighty Empire. Many gates connected them so they could easily move their armies to and fro. Only the High Elves could rival them.


    Then came Elranor and Baltoth. Two gods who were each the other''s archenemy. Yet both had spelled the downfall of a great elven empire. First, Elranor had come to engineer the destruction of the High Elves. Then Baltoth had come to take the Dust Elven empire for himself.


    And finally, they emerged into a dark hall with gothic pillars rising to the ceiling. At the center was an altar, and above that altar was a single colossal crystal hovering. It was taller than Kiyora and a good deal more expansive, and it glowed with a clear light that illuminated the chamber.


    "Wow, this place is nice," said Kiyora. "Why''d they build it so far underground?"


    "This room is the heart of Baltoth''s Retribution," said Arraxia. "The center of the magic. It survived my victory, and now I have used it to repair the castle."


    "Victory?" asked Kiyora. "You lost."


    "No, I didn''t," snapped Arraxia. "I manipulated everyone and nearly killed my former Master Melchious. A masterstroke that gained me full power over Seathorius."


    "Sure," said Kiyora. "Then William got you to look into the Mirror of Laevian, stabbed you in the chest, and dropped a castle on your head."


    "None of which would have prevented me from killing both of you," noted Arraxia. "If you''ll recall, I was quite unfazed. However, I had mercy and spared your lives."


    "''Unphased'' is not the word I''d use," said Kiyora as they reached the crystal. "And feeling someone is too much trouble to be worth killing does not count as mercy."


    "Yes, you have a firm grasp of meaningless technicalities," said Arraxia. "Now, perhaps we can get down to business. Put your hand upon that crystal as I do." She reached out for the crystal, and Kiyora mirrored the motion. Finally, both were touching it.


    "Now what?" asked Kiyora.


    "Now, you must focus your will through it," said Arraxia. "You''ll know when you manage it."


    Kiyora obeyed, and she did know. She could see everything in Seathorius. Everything from the mightiest tree to the most insignificant gnat was before her. And it was within her power to influence them all. Not directly, but she could set her will for or against them. Drive one to do this or do that. Turn the mind of one thing against another.


    "Wow, this is amazing," said Kiyora.


    "Yes, it''s all very impressive," said Arraxia. "The Dust Elves always were talented sorcerers. Still, there is the matter at hand. As you can see, the elves are already moving against us."


    Kiyora didn''t see. She focused on it and gradually became aware of the high elves. Clad in white mail, the High Elves crossed over to the Nakmars side of the river. Kiyora blinked in surprise.


    "What? But why?" asked Kiyora, "I haven''t even told them no yet."


    "They approached you assuming you were an easily manipulated, naive imbecile. They were correct, of course. But I got to you first," said Arraxia. "No doubt, as soon as you started asking questions, they realized you would take my side. Thus mobilized their forces."


    "Right, so what do we do?" asked Kiyora.


    "I was under the impression that you were meant to be in command, dear?" said Arraxia.


    "Oh, right," said Kiyora. "Um, when they land, we''ll shift the landscape so they can''t get off the shore."


    "That would be far too obvious and easily broken," mused Arraxia. "If someone puts enough willpower into it, they can force a path through Seathorius. Assuming they know they are being led on. No, we must choose a more careful approach. Let me guide you."


    The elves landed, and Kiyora allowed her spirit to be guided by Arraxia''s. Yet to her surprise, the demoness was speeding the progress of the elves as they rushed into the woods. "You''re letting them move in quickly?"


    "Yes, I am speeding their progress," said Arraxia. "And yet, at the same time, we are turning their path away from their right road. Now observe this..."


    Kiyora found her will be drawn to the villages of satyrs. She saw Doltier and many others of his kind heading toward the elves from every direction. "You''re moving your satyrs? We had an agreement."


    "We won''t attack. No, the satyrs will merely make them believe they are getting near," said Arraxia. "Watch; now that they have seen my subjects, they will assume they are near."


    The elves caught sight of the satyrs and shot their bows at them. Yet they hit nothing. Emboldened, they pursued relentlessly. They didn''t realize that they were being drawn further and further inland.


    "This is way too easy for them."


    "Yes, it is likely only a matter of time before the elves realize something is wrong," said Arraxia. "You see, as long as they were near the river, they had spirits who might have interceded on their behalf. Now they are advancing too quickly for their own good. But we must keep them under their delusions of superiority until it is too late."


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    Night fell upon the land, then morning again as the hunt continued. "How are things happening so quickly," asked Kiyora.


    "When working with Baltoth''s Retribution, time moves more quickly," said Arraxia. "You see the world as the spirits of stone see them. I''ll tell you it was quite irritating when I first got it.


    "By now, they''ve run out of initial supplies and realized they are quite lost. And here comes the issue. We will soon feel the pressure of their wills working against ours to escape Seathorius. Here it comes."


    She felt them. They were wills of iron. It was a sharp stabbing pain in her mind as the elves realized their folly and tried to retreat. But she fought it back, forcing it back on them. "Ow. That hurts." They tried again.


    "Yes, some are stronger-willed, aren''t they?" asked Arraxia. "Hold fast, victory is nearly ours."


    Day after day went by as Arraxia and Kiyora strove with the elves. No one died, but the elves wandered aimlessly and devoid of direction. Hunger began to take hold of them.


    "My satyrs are closing in around them, and the Nakmar march with them," said Arraxia.


    "Nakmar?" said Kiyora, and she saw that this was true. "But I never told the Nakmar I wanted them to ally with the satyrs."


    "Really?" asked Arraxia. "You must have a remarkable hold over them, then; I am impressed. At any rate, would you care to ask for their surrender? Or shall I slaughter the elves to the man?"


    "Hang on," said Kiyora.


    She withdrew her hand, and the spell was broken. But looking at the crystal, she saw that it had changed color. It now swirled with power. Both the blue light of the Dreaming Goddess and the violet fire of Arraxia surged in equal strength. They intermingled and gradually became one. Kiyora transported herself to the Nakmar. To her surprise, she found King Houndslasher himself there. He was dressed in battle armor and held a massive axe in two hands. As she appeared, they bowed to her.


    "King Houndslasher, what are you doing here?" asked Kiyora.


    "We came when we called," said Houndslasher. "All of us felt compelled to join forces with the satyrs against the common elvish enemy. I had my doubts, of course, but we obey you without question."


    "Right, great," said Kiyora. "Creepy." She muttered under her breath as she approached the satyrs. "You, Doltier, right?"


    The albino satyr looked at her with narrowed eyes. "I serve the great demoness you call Arraxia."


    "Right, okay, so if this thing comes to battle, what are our chances?" asked Kiyora.


    "Very good," said Doltier. "They ran out of food three days ago, and we''ve given them no time to rest. I only haven''t slaughtered them because my mistress commands otherwise. I expect you have something to do with that." His tone was bitter.


    "Well, don''t you seem disappointed," said Kiyora. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''ve wanted to eat an elf for years, and I''m not alone," said Doltier. "Lord Melchious would have let us feast."


    "Well, Melchious isn''t here," said Kiyora. "And I''m going to ask their surrender so someone gets me a white flag, will ya?"


    She looked to the elven force. Their shining mail could have been more shining. Their clothes were dirty, and they looked exhausted. They had formed a defensive ring and were hemmed in on all sides.


    As the white flag was raised, their leader came forth. Kiyora went to meet him. He was tall, even for a High Elf, and had thinner cheeks than most. His hair was long and brown, and his eyes silver.


    Kiyora gave him a friendly wave. "Hi. You''re in trouble," she said. "You''re out of provisions. Dwarves and satyrs surround you, and the latter want to eat you. And if you start a fight now, they will. I''d love to stop them, but satyrs are hard to control at the best of times.


    "If it comes to a battle, I''ll bet they''ll tie the prisoners to spits and roast you over a slow fire. Assuming they don''t just eat you good and raw while you''re still alive."


    "I am General Evensen," said the elf. "State your terms, witch."


    "You give us your word; you will leave our lands and never pull this stunt again," said Kiyora. "In exchange, we give you food and let you leave without any bloodshed. Oh, and you have to leave your weapons and armor behind; I don''t want you walking through my lands with swords."


    Evensen paused and eyed his enemies. "Give us time to convene to discuss the matter."


    "Sure, whatever," said Kiyora. "But don''t take too long. I don''t think I can control my friends much longer." She walked back, whistling to where Houndslasher stood. "Do you think they are stalling?"


    "They are out of food," said Houndslasher. "They can''t stall long. Just keep an eye out for any relieving force."


    A few tense minutes passed. Kiyora passed them, admiring the scenery and talking with the trees. Then Doltier looked up and pointed. "Look!"


    Kiyora saw that Evensen was coming back. The white flag was raised again. She walked to meet him, hands in her pockets and a deliberate spring in her step. Houndslasher and Doltier went with her.


    "We will yield to you," said the elf. "But, we will only give our weapons to you on the banks of the river."


    "Fair enough," said Kiyora with a kind smile. "Start walking."


    "We don''t know the way," said Evensen.


    "Houndslasher, get some guides to lead them to the river. And see them fed," said Kiyora. Then she walked up to Doltier and spoke in a lower voice. "Doltier, keep your men close and make sure to lick your lips every so often. Make them think you and your men are hungry."


    "We are hungry," snapped Doltier.


    "Just do it," said Kiyora before turning to Houndslasher and speaking louder. "Escort them to the rive and make sure no one dies. Get them to give you their weapons and armor when you get there. Then feed them, ferry them across, and give them a stern warning."


    "We should let them give us their weapons and armor, then slaughter them," whispered Doltier.


    "No," said Kiyora, looking to the Nakmar. "If Doltier tries anything like that, you and your warriors are to defend the elves. When the swords and armor had been given to you, you''ll split them evenly with the satyrs. Now I''ve got to go check back with Arraxia."


    She disappeared and reappeared to find Arraxia sitting cross-legged on the floor. Her tail was wrapped around the crystal above her, but her attention was on a book she read. "Is that William''s sequel?"


    "Yes," said Arraxia. "I must say I find it to be an entirely inferior product. I don''t appear nearly enough, and I always focus on people I have no reason to care about."


    "You do know that he is writing his experiences, don''t you," said Kiyora. "Not yours."


    "Well, he might write some that interest me," said Arraxia. "And the prose is terrible. He uses far too many elaborate words when smaller ones will do the trick. Not to mention that he is always making his sentences far too long. I''m amazed that anyone can take him seriously.


    "Things seem to be going well."


    "Yeah, yeah, I get it," said Kiyora. "They would be going much better if Doltier and his warriors weren''t set on eating the elves. I think we''re better make sure the elves aren''t plotting anything."


    "Well, it appears that the elves are quite defeated," said Arraxia, glancing up at the crystal. "And without a single casualty too. I cannot understand why we did not slaughter them before they surrendered."


    "I''d have thought you''d have wanted to kill them after they surrendered," said Kiyora.


    "Don''t belittle my superior nature. My word is my bond," said Arraxia. "If I am known as an oathbreaker, then people will be unwilling to negotiate with me. Better to take a few casualties in a fair battle than to ruin my reputation. Being able to make deals is an essential part of power."


    Kiyora put her hand to the crystal and observed. The elves were escorted back to the river over a few days. They were given food, which they wolfed down hungrily. Then they surrendered their weapons at the banks. Then they crossed over without further incident. A first-class humiliation, if ever there was one. The Nakmar and the Satyrs split the loot and walked off.


    "The elves have all been ferried across," said Kiyora. "The Nakmar and satyrs have gone their separate ways. Okay, I''m done. I''m waking up now." She took her hand off the crystal.


    "Really?" said Arraxia in surprise. "Wouldn''t you rather make a speech about the power of friendship?"


    "Friendship?" said Kiyora. "This is realpolitik."


    "Truthfully, I don''t see the difference," admitted Arraxia. "Do give my regards to Rioletta."


    Before Kiyora could ask what she meant by that, the world faded. Kiyora awoke in her bed. But when she opened her eyes, she found a black shadow looming over her. The window was open, and leering down at her was Rioletta.


    Kiyora opened her mouth, but a hand was put to her mouth as the demoness threw off her cover and began to spin her. Kiyora struggled, but she could feel the silk creeping up her body. It went over her knees, then her thighs, as her legs were bound behind her. The silk rose higher and higher until it was coming up her neck. The hand was removed from her mouth, and she had time to scream for help before she was cocooned in darkness.

 Chapter 262 - Eight: The Flower of Torment

    It was dark in this place. William could hear moans of agony.


    William Gabriel sat up from a sleep he did not remember taking and found himself in his armor. His sword was at his side, and he was lying on his shield in a very uncomfortable way. Pulling himself up, he looked around.


    This was not Arsheen. He suspected it was not even his world.


    It looked more like Kiyora''s world with walls of living wood. He stood in a small, circular room illuminated by brought violet crystals. There seemed to be a strange shadow over the place, however. It was like the world was being filtered through a lens of agony.


    He looked for a door but couldn''t find one. He could see what seemed like an altar. There were many crystals set into it gleaming.


    He set one hand to it. The crystals shone, and an image appeared. It was of a woman with yellow hair, clad in a strange uniform. "Captain Altrus'' log: Day 1 of the Black Star''s first mission."


    "We''ve set out from Actovosh with the experimental ship. They said that this vessel would be a bit weird, but that doesn''t do it justice. I''m afraid something will jump out at me every moment I''m on the bridge. The halls always seem to shift, and I swear I keep seeing things.


    "I feel like I''m being hunted. I know it''s not rational.


    "Alchara above, I''ll be glad when I''m done with this trip."


    "Some kind of record?" guessed William aloud. "Except it records speech instead of ink. All of this is far too strange. This is some ship, I suppose. However, it is nothing like any vessel I''ve seen.


    "I can''t find out anything more here."


    He found an area that might have been a door. It was a point where there was a circular crack. He pushed on it, but it did not yield. There was nothing to pull on. The light from the crystals hardly reached here, and he couldn''t see very well. He stepped back and raised a hand.


    Then he spoke an incantation of power, summoning the light of the sun spirit to his aid. Nothing happened. He tried again, and there was no response. After several more times, he realized the truth. He was in Kiyora''s world; there was no good reason he would be able to summon the power of his world''s sun.


    William sighed and leaned against the wall. He must have pressed something because what he had taken to be a door slid aside. Beyond the threshold, he saw cocoons. Dozens and dozens of cocoons were hanging from ceilings or forced against walls. Yet unlike normal cocoons, he could see every feature of those bound within them. He could even see the agonized looks on their faces.


    He walked in and then heard a scuttling sound. He turned and saw a vast spider going toward him. It spewed silk from its mandibles, and he raised his shield just in time to stop it. The silk wrapped around his guard and seemed to writhe its way toward his hand. He let go of the defense and threw it aside.


    Taking his sword in two hands, he brought it down on the spider. The blade cut straight through the beast''s carapace and sank into its head. It spasmed and then died. The body faded into the wood, leaving only a smudge of black blood. It was no spider but a formation of unholy magic.


    William drew out the sword and then raised his shield. He tried to pry off the threads but only got his sword stuck. After a few wrenching moments, he''d only gotten more tangled in it. So he stopped.


    He sensed that same malaise from the threads. There was unholy magic in them. Before he could think, the threads came to life. They began to creep up his arms. William wrestled with the sticky stuff as it came up closer. Dark shapes arose around him, horrors he had forgotten. Or horrors he had never met. He channeled the power of Elranor, and the threads recoiled from him and crumbled.


    Retrieving his sword and shield, he looked at the cocoons. William had to free them. He could not leave these people here within the silk. Drawing out his harp, he began to play.


    His music resounded around him and set itself against the silk. Yet it was like he was pressing his hands against an iron wall. He could not break the enchantment no matter how he pushed and tore against it with his mind. It resisted him, and whenever a scratch was made, some force arose to heal it.


    William kept at it for some minutes. Yet finally, he ceased playing his music. There was no helping it. With the Goldenwood Harp, he might have broken this enchantment. But it was no longer his.


    Yet something else awoke. Or so William felt. He glanced around, expecting to see eyes on him. Yet as far as he could tell, the only living thing with him in this place was the cocoons. At a loss, he looked around for a way out. At least it was better lit here, and he found another door. Feeling around, he found a switch and pressed it.


    The door slid open, and he found more cocoons in a hall. It was a hall lined with more cocoons, and it gave him chills to walk it. He tried to keep his eyes off those agonized faces. Looking at them felt strange and not only from horror. He found a sick appeal to gazing at them, and he did not like it.


    "This is why I hate demons," he muttered. "Looking at their handiwork makes you think like them. Why did Kiyora call me out here like this? What good am I here? And where is she anyway? She usually is obvious about why she drags me around. Or at least she was last time. It had only happened once before."


    He stopped as he came to a corner and saw a line of spiders. Dozens of them. On their backs was another cocoon. Yet the features of this one were familiar, and he saw a faint light coming from her.


    "...Kiyora," he said. "What happened? She must have been seized and called me on reflex. But I can''t fight all those." He tailed after them, hoping to see some of them break off.


    As he walked after them, he found his eyes drawn to how the silk clung to every curve on her body. The sudden focus he had on it disturbed him. He shut it out as best he could and focused on the number of spiders. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    None of them broke off in the end. They kept a close formation and made their way up a winding stair of living wood, down the hall, and through a door. But as William came after them, the door rolled shut. He found the switch and pressed it, but there was no response.


    Once again, he felt that presence. A sense as though something was here. But that something did not seem evil. If it was, it could have alerted the spiders.


    He supposed he should find a safe place. But he knew nothing of this strange ship. Or anything within it anywhere could be safe or dangerous, and he''d never know. So he moved away from the door and around the corner, sat down, and thought. "Alright, William, you can''t prevail here by force of arms, so think," he muttered. "I need to find some way to contact the outside world if I can. They may be able to help me."


    Provided there was an outside world. If this were another world, Kiyora had been taken to; this could be the whole thing. Then he felt that same presence again. It seemed to be striving with something. William felt annoyed and looked up to where he sensed it. "You, who are you?"


    The presence overcame whatever it was struggling with. "...Follow..." The voice was almost a whisper and was said with pain. Saying just that took considerable effort.


    "I asked you a question:" said William. "Who are you?"


    "Black... Star... I once was..." gasped the presence with pain. "Now, no more... no more..."


    "Are you the spirit in command of this place?" guessed William.


    "...Follow..." gasped Black Star, "they are coming..."


    Then it receded. And William realized he had no choice but to follow. "Damn."


    He followed as best he could. Black Star led him on through this strange realm''s winding and twisting halls, lower and lower. As they did so, the threads became ever thicker around them. William came to a place where the threads were drawn before the hall Black Star would lead him down.


    Drawing out his harp, he played the music of Elranor to try and dispel the magic within. But whenever he did so more unholy magic came from the rest of the silk. He could not break the entire enchantment. Putting away his harp beneath his cloak, William drew out his sword.


    An idea occurred. He tried to channel the power of Elranor through the blade. It was hard, but little by little, he managed to raise the power. He brought the sword down, but as he swung, the spell dispersed, and the blade was turned.


    He tried again, and this time he managed to cut a thread. He tried again and once again failed. It took a lot of miserable work to get through. As he hacked and channeled yet more power, William felt a horrible headache coming on. What if spiders came by this place? Could he fend them off? The power of these chants was horrible.


    Finally, the last thread was cut, and he walked on through. He nearly collapsed from exhaustion while following Black Star. Why was it so hard to put the power of Elranor into a sword? When he played music, it came easily, but this had nearly broken him.


    Black Star opened a door, and William entered it. The door shut, and he was left in what appeared to be a garden. Golden crystals shone down on bright green turf. Trees were growing around him, or perhaps part of a single tree. At the center of the room was a clear pool of water, and he collapsed by it.


    "...Stay..." said Black Star, "stay here... safe here..."


    "What are these creatures?" asked William.


    "Demons..." said Black Star, "raishans... spider demons... servants of... servants of..." His voice went high with terror.


    For a few minutes, Black Star fell silent. William said nothing and removed his helmet. He pulled himself over to the pool and drank and washed away the sweat.


    Then he rested.


    When he felt a bit better, he looked up to Black Star. "What is this place?"


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    "Black Star..." said Black Star, "within... within me..."


    William wondered if he meant this entire place or merely the room with the pool. Before he could ask, an image appeared in the pool beneath him. It showed Captain Altrus from before, speaking with an elf with a long beard.


    "Endion, has there been any sign of the missing crewmembers?" asked Captain Altrus.


    "No ma''am," said Endion. "We''ve scanned the entire ship, but Black Star isn''t picking up any life signs. It''s like they just disappeared."


    "They can''t have," said Altrus. "If they were dead, we should have detected it. Alright, keep scanning the area. I don''t want anyone going anywhere alone. Keep a weapon on you at all times and..."


    There was a noise of scurrying. Altrust whirled around, a blade in her hand. "What was that?"


    "I don''t know," said Endion. "Be careful."


    The vision faded.


    "Rioletta..." said Black Star. "Rioletta did this..."


    "Rioletta?" asked William. "The Goddess of Fate?" Why would she have taken physical form here? What could be so important?


    "Spider... spider demoness..." murmured Black Star. "Unholy. Holds... holds my will... Cannot disobey her..."


    "Rioletta has enslaved you?" asked William, feeling a sense of pity for Black Star. And what was the Goddess of Fate doing here anyway? "Yet why should she want to kidnap Kiyora?" A horrible thought came to him. "Is she going to eat her?"


    "No... not eat..." murmured Black Star. "Consume... Bind. .. Enslave... Dreamers are a source of power... Through nightmares... Rioletta will gain... gain power..."


    "Wonderful," said William. "Well, at least Kiyora won''t be killed. Is there any way I can break her hold over you?"


    "Break... hold..." Black Star paused, "No..."


    "Are you certain?" asked William. "If her hold over you is unshakable, why are you helping me?"


    "Her... will courses... through all ships of... my kind..." said Black Star. "No escape..."


    "Of your kind?" asked William.


    "I was... a fusion," said Black Star. "Cannot find... cannot find... words..."


    An image appeared of an elf with violet hair. She was very beautiful and thin, even for an elf, and William could see that she bore some resemblance to Kiyora. He wondered if she was a relative.


    "This is Dr. Hanora Dreamer of the Department of Spiritual Defense. I am reporting on the progress of Project Black Star. The Black Star is a treeship which we hope will be the first of a new generation.


    "The vessel perfectly fuses Dark Elven and Dreamer Elf technology. Like our technology, it allows the full might of a Dreamer to be used. Yet, in addition to that power, it can feed off the suffering of those within. This power increases the strength of the ship''s weaponry exponentially.


    "While prolonged use is highly immoral, it could be useful in short bursts. And with special training, a Dream Sage should be able to endure for far longer."


    The image faded.


    "Dream Sage?" asked William. "Is that what Kiyora is?"


    "Kiyora... is a potential..." Black Star paused. "Not full Dream Sage... Possesses power..."


    "I see," said William. "Why does Rioletta need her? There must have been one here."


    Hanora reappeared. This time looked furious.


    "A message to Dr. Hanora Dreamer,


    "I don''t really care how confident you are in the safety of this vessel, Alatar. Dark Elven technology is dangerous, and I intend for us to walk before we run. The maiden voyage of this vessel will be made without a Dream Sage. The crew will be trained to move it, not wield the weapons."


    Once again, it faded.


    "So Rioletta doesn''t have a Dream Sage. Kiyora mentioned something about them is essential. To weaponry on her ships," mused William. "So she went after Kiyora. What does she want to accomplish?" He remembered using one of her artifacts during the Tournament of Kings. The sensation had been strange and twisted.


    He''d never wanted to feel it again. Was Kiyora feeling that now?


    "...Many... many things..." said Black Star. "Domination... destruction... The suffering of those within... too great... could destroy... destroy everything..."


    "Very well. How can I stop her?" asked William. "Can you open the doors?"


    "You... cannot... defeat... Rioletta..." said Black Star. "Disable... cloak..."


    "Cloak?" asked William. "What cloak?"


    "The cloak... it keeps me from sight..." gasped Black Star. "Disable and the... Dreamer Elves... will find her..."


    "Can you lead me there?" asked William.


    "I... cannot break... Rioletta''s... hold..." gasped Black Star.


    "You are doing it right now," said William. "Just keep on going as you are. You must lead me to this cloak."


    Then he felt something. A splitting pain rushed through his mind, and he fell to his knees. Suddenly he could see Seathorius. And he saw Nakmar. There were dozens and dozens of Nakmar. Yet their eyes were empty, and their faces blank. It was as though their wills had been overridden. He could feel something commanding them. And that something was itself controlled.


    "Well now, the minds of these Nakmar were quite easy to override, weren''t they?" said a cheerful voice. "They truly do rely on the Dreaming Goddess, don''t they."


    "Rioletta." said a familiar voice.


    The view changed to that of a throne room. William realized he was looking through the eyes of something at Arraxia. The beautiful demoness was lounging on her throne. Her claws were clasped before her chest, and her tail flicked. "Rioletta, how have you been?"


    "Oh well enough," said Rioletta, a wide, sharp-toothed smile on her face. "I was just in the area, and dear Melchious approached me. He is quite annoyed with you, you know."


    "Oh really? Well, that is satisfying," said Arraxia. "Though I can''t see what it has to do with you being here?"


    "Oh, pay me no mind, darling," said Rioletta. "I''m merely here to claim control of Seathorius and throw you out. Melchious gave me the means to do so?"


    "Oh, I see," said Arraxia. "You captured the Dreaming Goddess in her mortal form and are using her to take control of the Nakmar. They always did rely on her a little too much."


    "You are quite perceptive as always, darling," said Rioletta. "I rather wonder why you never tried it yourself."


    "Mind control is such a crude means of manipulation," said Arraxia, examining her claw. "I use it as little as possible. Far better for my subordinates to follow me out of their designs."


    "What an adorable concept," said Rioletta. "I think I shall delight in bundling you up in silk."


    "There is no need to fight," said Arraxia.


    "Oh, but there is," said Rioletta. "I want to control Seathorius."


    "And you won''t get any control without my help," said Arraxia.


    "My, what a fascinating concept," said Rioletta. "Do tell, darling, how can you assist in a way that Melchious cannot?"


    Arraxia had told William once that female demons all had similar personalities. The reality of this set in. They had differences, but there seemed to be an archetype they both had.


    "If you didn''t know the answer, we wouldn''t have this conversation," noted Arraxia. "Melchious doesn''t want to let you control Seathorius. He merely wants you to remove me. Once you''ve done that, the satyrs will return to his worship, and you''ll have to fight him immediately."


    "Well, that does sound annoying," said Rioletta. "Satyrs aren''t any fun at all to bundle in silk. They lack the innocence of elves, so they simply don''t torment as well. Yet how could leaving you in control benefit me?"


    "We should ally," said Arraxia. "You will rule over the Nakmar and bring your spider demons into this world, and I will rule over the satyrs. We could easily keep this land from Melchious'' control with our combined strength."


    "Do you truly believe such an alliance could last, darling?" asked Rioletta doubtfully.


    "Of course, sooner or later, one of us would backstab the other; that is the way of things," said Arraxia. "But in the meantime, we''ll both be very powerful. And we can unite against Melchious and all the other people who might stand in your way."


    "That does sound rather nice," mused Rioletta. "We haven''t been united in common cause since both of us studied under Melchious."


    "Then may I give you some advice, for old times'' sakes?" asked Arraxia.


    "Of course, of course," said Rioletta.


    "A Paladin of Elranor is on your ship," said Arraxia, smiling.


    Dead silence. "What?" said Rioletta, and her smile became forced.


    "Oh yes, I tricked the Dreaming Goddess into merging her will with mine. We wanted to repulse an invasion," said Arraxia. "After you kidnapped her, I stimulated her into calling one of her servants into your domain. His name is William Gabriel, and he is quite irritating. Perhaps you know of him? "


    "Ah, I see," said Rioletta, licking her lips. "William, that delicious-looking morsel who used one of my scarves. So either he breaks my power, or I remove him from play. Very shrewd darling, very shrewd indeed."


    "Naturally, I wasn''t aware you would be reasonable," said Arraxia.


    "But of course," said Rioletta. "Tell me more of William? He has a unique feel to him. No doubt, a unique taste as well.


    "I really have wanted him for some time now, ever since your mortal form gave him that scarf. Such a delicious destiny..."


    "He''s one of those insufferable do-gooders," said Arraxia. "He was formed from a part of Melchious'' spirit and always interferes with my designs. Quite resourceful. You ought to take him seriously."


    "...Well, we''ll have to continue this discussion later, won''t we?" said Rioletta.


    "But, of course," said Arraxia.


    The vision faded. William said nothing. His presence had been given away, and his task had become much more dangerous. The door opened without a word, and William followed Black Star onward.


    This place now had an air of power as Black Star led William ever downward. The passages became narrower. The silk also became less and less common, as did the cocoons. This William found a relief. The lack of pressure on his mind helped him think.


    The walls here were different as well, however. They appeared to be inlaid with crystals that buzzed with power. He felt like he was being sapped somehow, just standing around here.


    "This place is strange," William mused. "What is different about these lower levels?"


    "Meant... for roots... not people..." said Black Star. "Elves see to... health here..."


    "Has Rioletta seen to your health?" asked William.


    "I... trapped..." said Black Star, "trapped in unlife... Follow..." His voice was labored as if in agony.


    Then as they came to a door, he heard scuttling. Yet this one was heavier than the others. He whirled around with his sword in hand. What he saw before him was a beautiful, skinny elven woman with the lower body of a spider. Her ample breasts were packed into a bodice of black silk that clung to her curves. However, it showed off much cleavage on her pale breasts. Her eyes were like those of a serpent, with violet pupils. Between her clawlike fingers was a long strand of silk.


    "Well, look at the little fly who has stumbled into my web," said Rioletta. "I am so grateful that my old comrade told me about you. You might have caused me some serious problems."


    "I intend to do more than that," said William.


    "My, what a defiant figure you strike," said Rioletta. "I can''t wait to tie you up in torments beyond your-" William opened the door and ran like the hells were behind him. Which they were. "Hey! I wasn''t done talking, darling! Come back!"


    "You... running..." said Black Star chidingly.


    "I don''t mean to fight with a goddess, thank you very much," said William, opening the door. "Let alone get eaten by one. Can you close and lock that door?"


    The door shut.


    "Good," said William. "Close any doors you can between us."


    "Under... understand..." said Black Star. "Follow..."


    He fled through the halls and eventually came to a door, unlike the others. The wood here was black as night. There was an aura of pain coming from them, greater than anything else. William touched the door and recoiled at the agony.


    "Is this it?" asked William, hoping it wasn''t.


    "Yes... here is where the cloaking field lies..." said Black Star. "Break the flower...


    The door slid aside, and within, he saw what appeared to be a red flower at the far end. Coming from it were many vines that covered the walls. William tried to walk through. But he felt horrible pain as soon as he did so. It stung his arms. His hands went for his harp, but then he felt a presence.


    Glancing back, he saw the door through which he had come sliding aside to reveal many spiders. There was no time. Long ago, Mother had told him that it was better to plunge into the ocean than to immerse oneself gradually. He drew his sword and charged at the flower.


    The agony which assailed him was worse than anything he had ever felt. It was like his skin was melting off, and he collapsed to his knees before he could get two feet in. He was burning! He was on fire!


    William turned to flee back to the door to find it shut. He couldn''t get out!


    "Destroy... flower..." gasped Black Star. "Pain... stop..."


    William screamed as he ran toward the flower. It was like he was being flayed alive. His heart was beating harder and harder. He was in a rage, and he swung his sword. The blade hit the flower and rebounded. His agony only increased. His vision was going dark. He could not continue. With his last desperate effort, he channeled the power of Elranor and struck. This time it shattered like glass. The pain stopped, and William collapsed to his knees and fell into darkness.

 Chapter 263 - Nine: The Emperor Appears

    William awoke to find his arms and legs bound in a spread eagle position. He was no longer wearing his armor; the weight was gone. But he could see nothing. Something sticky was covering his eyes. He strained and tried to break free, but his limbs were sluggish.


    Then the silk was pulled from his eyes, and he found himself in the center of a circular room. There was a balcony above him with many windows looking out onto a starry expanse. At the base of the balcony was Kiyora. She was trapped within a clear crystal, and blue energy poured out of her.


    Yet it was sapped away by wires into the walls themselves.


    Glancing around, William saw his sword on his discarded armor. Suppose he could only get to it. Then he could get out of here. But the threads held him tightly.


    Then Rioletta walked sideways from behind him into view. She was smiling. One clawed hand reached up to cup him by the cheek. He found his eyes drawn to her now naked upper body.


    "My, you''ve awoken, haven''t you? I can see why Arraxia likes you. I''m lucky I claimed you first," she said, licking her lips.


    He tried to speak. But the silk was covering his mouth. Rioletta responded by lowering her claws down to his shirt and stabbing one claw through it. He tried to keep from screaming as he felt her fingers drive themselves into his flesh. Down went her hand, and he could no longer control himself. He yelled, but the sound of muffled.


    "Oh, don''t bother trying to call for help, darling," said Rioletta. "My webs are very good at containing screams, and no one can help you. Black Star has been naughty of late, but it may be worth it for the pain I can feel from you. You''ve proven a frightful nuisance. I was nearly out of the system when you destroyed my cloak.


    "Now I''m being pursued, and I''m going to have to fight off the Dreamer Elves before I''ve broken, dear Kiyora."


    She moved forward so that her cheek was pressed against his. Her arms wrapped around him gently. William found himself reacting in his lower body despite his best efforts. How could he be attracted to this monster?


    "I like you," whispered Rioletta. "Beneath that metal shell, you look delicious. Not an elf, but one can tire of the effeminate sort. Now, what shall I do with you?" She licked his cheek with a forked, violet tongue. "I suppose I could bundle you up like the others, but this warrants a personal touch."


    Then she pulled back. She opened her mouth to reveal fangs. She bit down on his neck. William stopped himself from screaming this time as she sang her fangs in. He could feel his blood being drained, and he felt lightheaded. Then she pulled back, licking her lips.


    "Yes!" she screamed in a pleasured tone, a voice filled with passion. And she gripped him by the throat. "Still, it''s not just blood I want from you." She grabbed the tears in his shirt and began to rip them away. "How would you like to be the father of a new brood of spiders? Half-demons are much more durable than those silly raishans. It''ll be no trouble. It''ll be a special pleasure to have my way with a goddess''s servant in front of her.


    "Now, why don''t we begin?"


    She leaned in as if to kiss him. Then there was a flash, and the vessel shook around them. Rioletta looked upward in a fury. William followed her gaze and saw something strange through the windows. It was like a tree, yet the roots seemed to have tangled together to create a ship. It had golden leaves and was surrounded by a shield of light.


    "What is the meaning of this Black Star?" asked Rioletta. "I commanded you forward at top speed!"


    "I... do not..." The vessel shook as a beam of light was fired from the tree ship ahead of them to crash into them. "...serve by... choice..." S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Then you will serve by compulsion!" roared Rioletta.


    She stretched out her hands, and dark magic poured from them. There was a scream from the ship. Then it was followed by many other screams. Thousands, in fact. A beam of pure violet light shot across the window to smash into the tree ship. The shield broke, and the vessel exploded into a million pieces.


    Yet more soon appeared and began to fire at them. Rioletta directed her assaults against them as well. And as she did, William saw Kiyora''s expression turn to one of pain. Rioletta was draining Kiyora''s power!


    He had to do something while Rioletta was distracted. William summoned the power of Elranor to heal his wounds first. Then he tried to break the enchantment on the threads holding him. But that was no good. The magic was just reinforced. Then he had an idea. He tried hauling on them while channeling Elranor''s power through.


    For a long moment, he strained. Then the threads snapped. He tore off his gag and leaped for his sword. Rioletta turned and sent a wave of thread at him, but he rolled away.


    Rioleta drew one hand before her in a slashing motion, and a wave of the thread was woven. William''s sword was held in place as Rioletta stabbed her claws into his chest. He gasped as he felt piercing agony. As she drew out her hand, another impact was felt. The other three ships were firing on the Black Star, and Rioletta turned to deal with them. Another two tree ships exploded into flares of light by her will.


    William healed his wound, ignoring the pain. He couldn''t fight Rioletta, not like this. Then glanced at Kiyora and thought he might free her.


    "Elranor..." he murmured, "give me strength...


    And he felt strength flow through him. There was enough strength for this. Rising up, he summoned the full might of his power and swung at the crystal. His blade hit an invisible thread and was slowed. When it hit the crystal, it only cracked. There was a cry of rage, and Rioletta was coming at him.


    He rolled aside in time to avoid having his throat slashed. Then a wave of thread pinned him to the wall. Rioletta came at him, face warped and twisted. "Miserable little fly! I''ll wring your neck and devour your innards! I''ll drain your blood from your-"


    A shield blocked her coming. Rioletta recoiled from it, burned. The crack in the crystal was widening. A blue light was pouring forth, and another will was widening the crack. Rioletta rushed back and forced a hand against the crystal. The crack began to mend, but the will persisted.


    "Won''t... let you..." gasped Black Star. "Ictargo... help me..."


    There was a sudden surge of orange light behind them. An elven figure appeared, garbed all in white. He had short dark hair and handsome features ordinarily. And he looked very determined. In one hand, he held a bright sword and, in the other, a great shield.


    Rioletta turned to face him. "Ictargo," she hissed. "This domain is mine by right. Black Star was born of my magics and is mine. You have no power here."


    "I have been called upon for aid," replied Ictargo. "And I do not forsake my subjects."


    Rioletta laughed. "I have been capturing elves from across the worlds for years, and your avatar has never confronted me."


    "I have been held at bay a long time," said Ictargo. "But no longer." He surged forward, and Rioletta went to meet him. There was a flash of light, and the room around them shook. Reality itself seemed to warp around them. William found his bindings falling away.


    Rioletta and Ictargo were now fighting. Threads were thrown at him with sharp points only to break against a shield. Ictargo''s blade struck many times. Yet Rioletta''s threads always interposed themselves. Yet there was something else going on here. William had yet to learn who this Ictargo was. However, he suspected that he did not see a contest between a demon and an elf.


    There were forces behind both of them. Primal and divine forces were sending their full might against one another. The actual combat seemed almost insignificant. The true battle was the will contest taking place just below the surface. William found himself almost lost within it. Neither one was able to overwhelm the other.


    Finally, Ictargo slid back a pace as though struck. Rioletta smiled. "You see. You cannot overwhelm me here. Not in the heart of my power. Not with the Dreaming Goddess within my grip."


    "But you have brought with you also the heart of my power," said Ictargo, and he spoke now aloud. "Hear me, subjects of the Dreamer Empire. Long has Rioletta held you? But no longer. Defy her now; pit your wills against her! This is the chance of liberation, which you have long awaited!"


    And there was a change in the air. Sparkles of light descended from around the ship, a few at first, but many soon enough. They poured into Ictargo, who flared brighter and brighter. Then he surged forward and struck Rioletta. The spider goddess recoiled, injured. Yet, with one hand, she sent forth much of her energy.


    There were the screams again. Much louder than before. And Rioletta raked Ictargo across the face, leaving three long marks. That would likely leave a scar if he weren''t an elf.


    "You may call upon the hopes and dreams of people," said Rioletta, "but I can wield their suffering as a limb. And when someone is in a great deal of pain, they''ll do anything to make it stop.


    "It''s the motivation of all heroes."


    The battle continued, but William drowned out the words. Kiyora was suffering, and the thought infuriated William. So, he pulled himself up and limped toward the crystal. Every step hurt, and he could hardly keep his feet. The floor seemed to be shifting. Finally, he fell against the crystal.


    Summoning the power of Elranor, he struck it with all his might. It cracked. He hit it again, and the cracks spread. A third blow saw splinters of crystal breaking off. He raised the sword for a final blow, but threads dragged him back.


    He looked up. Rioletta was still fighting Ictargo, but she''d sent silk to pull him back. They were still fighting. But he was exhausted. He''d used so much power, and this simply wasn''t working. He could hardly stay awake.


    Wait. Kiyora had long ago imparted a piece of her spirit into him. Perhaps he could reach her with words. He forced himself to ignore the pain.


    "Listen to me, Kiyora!" he said. "This ship, this tree, whatever it is! It is killing your people! But you can stop it! Fight it!"


    Kiyora stirred within her prison. Her mouth opened, and her fist clenched. And William felt a great power mustering within. "You..." she strove to speak. "get out of my head, you bitch!"Her eyes opened like they were lit with a blue flame. The crystal shattered, and Kiyora rose into the air. Rioletta recoiled as Kiyora landed.


    "Dropping... dropping shields..." said Black Star.


    "You little fool! You think you''ve won, do you?!" roared Rioletta. "Well, you haven''t! Even if you kill me, your ships will destroy this place! You''ll both die anyway, and I''ll just reform in hell!" And she laughed with manic hysteria.


    "This is Emperor Ictargo," said Ictargo, raising a strange device. "We have taken control of the ship. Ceasefire and prepare a boarding party."


    "... That''s cheating," said Rioletta in a petulant tone.


    "Not really," said Kiyora before sending a surge of blue light, and Ictargo unleashed a wave of energy. Rioletta screamed and was consumed.


    Kiyora looked to Ictargo. She blinked in surprise. "...Tenius? What are you doing here?"


    "Uh, that''s a bit of a long story. It can probably wait till later," said Ictargo, rubbing the back of his head. "Right now, we need to free all these people."


    Tenius? The name was familiar. "I remember you," said William. "Aren''t you that boy Kiyora was engaged to?"


    "Oh, that," said Tenius. "Yeah, I got informed of it. Then I heard it got called off. It was kind of weird."


    "I had to give away my harp to break off your engagement," snapped William. "If I''d had that, I could have handled this situation on my own."


    "I did just save you both," noted Tenius. "My fleets would have destroyed you."


    "No, you wouldn''t," said William. "Kiyora could have just as easily teleported both of us back to my world. This wouldn''t be the first time she''s traveled there."


    "And what about all the hostages?" asked Tenius.


    "...A fair point," admitted William. "Though that seems your responsibility."


    "So uh, Tenius," said Kiyora, not looking at his eyes, "how did you get here? When did you get those powers? And why didn''t you use them before?"


    "I''m dreaming if you must know," said Tenius. "Soon, I''ll wake up and dismiss all this as only a dream. My true identity has yet to manifest in my mortal form fully."


    "True identity?" asked William. "What do you mean?"


    "I am the latest incarnation of Emperor Ictargo," said Tenius with pride.


    "That means absolutely nothing to me," admitted William.


    "I am the supreme ruler of the Dreamer Empire," said Tenius. "Like all Dreamer Elves, I am immortal. But a long time ago, I got set in my ways and really screwed up a lot of things. I didn''t understand the changing times. So Alchara made it so that every six hundred years, I reincarnate in another form."


    "So, who''s running the government now?" asked Kiyora.


    "Various influential people. No one you know or know of," said Tenius.


    "Right, and why are you telling us this?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, honestly, you''ve derailed some important plans," said Tenius. Something about him shifted. He looked like a different person. "You see, as most women do, you were meant to fall in love with me at first sight. Unfortunately, you manifested your powers far earlier. The whole thing with Laughing Wraith caused the spirit world to draw much nearer, and you were attuned to it."As a result, things spiraled out of control, and you ended up far more willful than expected."


    "Happy to disappoint you," said Kiyora.


    "I''m well aware," said Tenius. "We had intended to go through with things anyway; let fate sort things out like it usually does. However, the Goldenwood Harp was far too great a power to yield to humans."


    "Yield? The harp was mine by right of finding," snapped William.


    "And it was Alchara''s by right of creation," said Tenius, and he was Ictargo now. "It''s obvious who has the greater claim."


    "Yes. I did," said William.


    "Spoken like a true disciple of Anoa the Butcher, said Ictargo. "You humans believe that just because you have the strength to take something makes it yours. You are unfit to rule anything."


    "Anoa the Bright was the greatest King to ever live," said William. "And the High Elven Kingdoms were barbarians who hunted sentients for sport. Driving your kind onto reservations was the greatest thing the men of Harlenor ever did!"


    "Do not speak to me of the old wars, human!" roared Ictargo. "I was there in another life! I watched the fall of civilizations! The rape of innocents beyond count! The destruction of entire nations! I saw a culture that had stood triumphant for millennia annihilated in a mere hundred years!"


    "You sought to exterminate us. We left some of you alive," noted William. "That alone makes us better than you."


    "Better? The most experienced human adults know less than Kiyora. And she has yet to complete her training," said Ictargo. "We are long-lived. Firstborn of the universe. The wisest of our kind remember ages past. Ages which human histories have long forgotten."


    "Yet you must reincarnate to remain relevant in a changing universe," noted William. "I think that says something about the values of immortality."


    "Both of you shut up!" snapped Kiyora. "Nobody with any sense cares about racial purity or stuff like that. You''ve got to judge people on a case-by-case basis. And William, do you actually believe all that?"


    "Yes," said William.


    "Funny because it sounds more like you heard it in a history lesson and repeated it here," said Kiyora. "And Ictargo, or Tenius, or whoever the hell you are, William has a point. They probably wouldn''t have lost if the High Elves were so damn superior."


    "We grew complacent. Yet we were still greater," said Ictargo.


    "Of course you were," said Kiyora with sarcasm. "And if the way you talk about it is any indication, you probably knew it. Have you ever thought that maybe so many people hate elves because we think we''re better than them?"


    "We are better than them," said Ictargo flatly.


    "No, we aren''t. I mean, sure, we''ve got some advantages," said Kiyora. "The average elf probably has many more skills than the average human. But that doesn''t make our lives inherently more valuable."


    "Believe whatever you will, Kiyora," said Ictargo. And he was gone in a flash.


    "What a wretched excuse for a sentient being," said William.


    "He''s borderline likable as Tenius. Why do you dislike him? I mean, it''s not like-" said Kiyora before suddenly breaking into a blush and looking away. "Hey, uh, what happened to your shirt?"


    "Rioletta tore it up while trying to force herself on me," said William.


    Kiyora blushed. "Oh. Um, how would that even work?"


    "I don''t really want to know," said William. "Can you send me back home now? These excursions to your world are interesting. However, I don''t really like having to contend with demons every time I go on one of them."


    "Right," said Kiyora. "Um, I''ll check up on you later. See ya!"She raised a hand, and there was a flash.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

 Chapter 264 - Ten: Aftermath

    Rioletta''s spell was broken, and the demoness was gone. Unfortunately, the door was locked, and Kiyora didn''t know how to open it. She didn''t know the first thing about treeships. She wasn''t like Reya and Tenius. So she waited, and boy, was it creepy. Outside she could see treeships surrounding the Black Star, but it wasn''t much comfort.


    The webs hanging from everywhere were bad. Just because the moans of the damned had faded away didn''t make it a nice spot. She wished she hadn''t sent William away so quickly and that Tenius hadn''t ditched her.


    Then the door slid aside, and into the room walked Lieutenant Escalus. She was holding her weapon in hand, which had spider blood on it. Behind her, Kiyora could see many soldiers. They were working to free those seized by Rioletta from their cocoons. None of them were conscious.


    "Kiyora Yagos, what happened here?" said Escalus.


    "Oh, this?" asked Kiyora. "I got captured but managed to break free and vanquish the demon responsibly. However, I did have a bit of help. It''s kind of a long story."


    "You''d better explain yourself," said Escalus. "And where is Emperor Ictargo? We received his transmission but haven''t found any sign of him. He hasn''t been heard in centuries." She paused and looked at soldiers flanking her. "You men, take charge of the machine. Set a course back for the capital." Then she looked back to Kiyora. "Where is the other?"


    "Other?" asked Kiyora.


    "The other who was with here with you," said Escalus. "We detected several other life forms. Two were immensely powerful, the demoness Rioletta and Ictargo, we presume. But there was a third unlike all the others.


    "Where is he?"


    "Oh, William''s gone back to his world," said Kiyora. "As for Emperor Ictargo, I don''t remember where he went."


    "You don''t remember?" asked Escalus incredulously.


    "Oh, you know what, forget this secrecy nonsense," said Kiyora. "Emperor Ictargo helped us out. Turns out, he''s actually in mortal form, but his mortal form becomes super powerful in his dreams. He is sleeping right now.


    "The name of his mortal form is-"


    "Quiet!" said Escalus. "I don''t want to know."


    "What?" said Kiyora.


    "If he told you that it was an act of unparalleled trust!" said Escalus. "You aren''t supposed to go around saying that!"


    "Well, he didn''t tell me that. I figured it out on my own. Besides, he''s a real jerk," said Kiyora. Before Escalus could say anything, a soldier approached and bowed. This one was male. "Lieutenant Escalus, we''ve rooted out most of the remaining spiders on this deck."


    "Good," said Escalus. "Move the sweeps downward. Free everyone you can."


    "Yes, ma''am," said the soldier.


    "One more thing," said Escalus. "Have we found any sign of the tree spirit?"


    "No. Sorry, ma''am," said the man.


    "Why..." came a voice, "why am I... alive..."


    "Nevermind," said Escalus. "I appear to have found it. Tree spirit Black Star, report."


    "Compromised... existence is... torment..." gasped Black Star, "wish... to die..."


    "That is unacceptable," said Escalus. "We need you alive so we can find out what happened here. Assemble all documents and footage you''ve gathered over the past few years. I want to know where this ship has been.


    "Have it ready as a report. When you''ve done that, you''ll be allowed to rest."


    "Understood..." said Black Star.


    "You could have gone a little easier on him, couldn''t you?" asked Kiyora.


    "We all have our functions to fulfill," said Escalus. "Which brings me to you. You seem to have a knack for fighting monsters, don''t you?"


    "Well, I am kind of awesome like that," said Kiyora, though she hadn''t really done anything.


    "Modesty isn''t your strong suit, is it?" asked Escalus. "No matter. We''ll discuss this later." She raised a communicator. "Agrava, what is the status of the ship''s controls?" sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "This ship is a mess. I''m amazed it hasn''t fallen to pieces by now," said a voice. "The demon didn''t do a very good job of maintaining it. We''re inbound to the nearest port. We''ve got clearance."


    "Good," said Escalus.


    She looked at Kiyora. "Kiyora Yagos, I''ve followed your career with a great deal of interest. I thought it an absolute waste to marry you off to Tenius."


    "Gee, thanks," said Kiyora. "Not sure I saw you helping."


    "I argued against it," said Escalus. "However, your grandmother, Hanora, insisted, and she has more influence than myself. May I ask you something?"


    "Sure," said Kiyora.


    "How did you get a divine order to break off the engagement?" asked Escalus.


    "A friend of mine cut a deal," said Kiyora. "He gave Alchara something she really wanted. In exchange, she cut the arrangement."


    "Who was this, friend?" asked Escalus.


    "His name was William Gabriel," said Kiyora. "He''s the one I just sent off."


    "William?" asked Escalus. "That is a human name?"


    "Oh, he''s a human from the spirit world," said Kiyora, "Or another world. I''m not sure which it is; the whole thing is a bit fuzzy."


    "So he''s the unknown entity," murmured Escalus.


    "Hmm?" said Kiyora.


    "During Laughing Wraith''s attack on Actovosh, our sensors detected something. An unworldly entity," said Escalus. "He assisted you in removing Laughing Wraith before disappearing without a trace. I was aware you were a powerful Dreamer. I didn''t think you were strong enough to draw an entire being out of the spirit world."


    "Shouldn''t you have gotten a report on all this?" asked Kiyora.


    "Unfortunately, no," admitted Escalus. "The Department of Spiritual Defense on a need-to-know basis. Everything regarding that incident is locked up. I''ve been learning more about the subject.


    "Tell me, have you considered becoming a Dream Sage?"


    "Eh, seems kind of like a lot of work," said Kiyora.


    "You may want to put the work into it," said Escalus. "This is the second time that a spiritual enemy has targeted you specifically. I''m beginning to think your presence may endanger others."


    "So what do you want, exactly?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''d like you to become a part-time Dream Sage," said Escalus. "We need them to help deal with large and small spiritual threats. With a bit of training, you''d be safer against threats like this. And you would be paid, of course.


    "It could be the start of a very lucrative career."


    "Well, that does sound nice," mused Kiyora. "Wouldn''t I have to miss school?"


    "Well, of course," said Escalus. "But we''ve accounted for that. Dreamers are most effective when they start young, after all. So we arrange for them to make up their school days in other ways."


    "Can I think about it for a bit?" asked Kiyora.


    "Of course. I''m in no hurry," said Escalus. "Still, there is the matter of the cover story. We''ll arrange a specific one in the future. At the moment, if anyone asks you any questions, reply with no comment."


    "Couldn''t we just tell them the truth?" asked Kiyora.


    "Unfortunately, no," replied Escalus. "Alchara has set a deliberate policy of not telling anyone anything they do not need to know. This includes the general public. I don''t know why. I just enforce it."


    "Then why are you looking into things for yourself?" shot back Kiyora.


    "I already knew everything I asked you about," said Escalus. "I merely wanted to hear your response."


    Kiyora wasn''t buying it. "Sure you did. Fine, whatever," Then she paused. "Can I get some new clothes? These are covered in silk."


    The journey back home took a few hours. When it was over, Kiyora was escorted to the lowest levels of the tree ship. There she and Escalus were transported to the Department of Spiritual Defense. She got a thorough debriefing. That burned up a few more hours, and when she finally got out, she found herself mobbed by reporters.


    "What are these doing here?" asked Kiyora.


    "There was just a full-scale battle in Actovosh," said Escalus. "Even we can''t cover it up that quickly. Just stay close and don''t answer any questions."


    "Lieutenant Escalus, do you have any comments on this situation?" asked one.


    "Any statement for the press?" asked another.


    "Lieutenant Escalus, people would like to know where this ship came from."


    Escalus said nothing. She glanced at one of her soldiers. "Agrava, get these people out of here."


    Kiyora got home late that night. She found the door unlocked and saw Mom sitting in the living room. Her eyes were empty, and she was drinking a glass of wine. She looked like she had been crying.


    "Kiyora, you''re back," said Mom. "I got a call about your return."


    "Hey, Mom," said Kiyora, not really knowing what to say.


    "I... is there anything you want to eat?" asked Mom. "Anything-"


    "I''m fine, I just..." Kiyora stopped. "I''m really tired, is all."


    Mom shook her head. "...This can''t keep happening. There has to be something we can do about this."


    "Mom, there was nothing the DSD could do about it," said Kiyora. "You couldn''t have stopped Rioletta."


    "I should have been able to!" said Mom. "You''re just a child! I should be able to protect you, but... I''m going to buy security. I''ll make this house so secure that nothing will be able to break in ever again. I promise you, Kiyora, this won''t happen again."


    "Mom, don''t worry I...," began Kiyora.


    But then Mom hugged her. She was shaking, and Kiyora realized she was crying. She hugged her back. "Mom, I''m going to become a Dream Sage."


    "Why do you keep doing this?!" said Mom "Are you trying to worry me to death?!"


    "I already get hounded by these things," said Kiyora. "But if I become a Dream Sage, I''ll be trained to deal with them. We don''t really lose anything. And it''s a good career."


    Mom separated and looked at her for a long moment. Finally, she sighed. "...I guess I should be glad you showing interest in something. Why don''t we go out to eat? I don''t feel like cooking."


    "Is Dad coming back?" asked Kiyora.


    "He''s on his way," said Mom. "He should be in tomorrow."


    They eat dinner out. It was good, but there wasn''t much conversation between them. Kiyora didn''t know what to say, and Mom didn''t either. What did you mean when this kind of thing happened?


    Eventually, they returned home even later. Kiyora went up to her bedroom and lay back in her bed to think. There were probably many things she had to check on in the dream world, like why the Nakmar had been taken over.


    However, she found her spirit within that flowery field from before. Which meant Alchara was pretty close. Sure enough, the golden goddess made her appearance. "I did warn you," said Alchara.


    "What do you want?" asked Kiyora.


    "Merely to see how you are doing," said Alchara. "Despite your needless antagonism, I remain concerned for your well-being."


    "Funny way of showing it," muttered Kiyora.


    "You have coddled the Nakmar," said Alchara. "You intervene in every small problem they have."


    "I seem to recall you being one of those problems," noted Kiyora.


    "Stop it. I am quite serious," said Alchara. "By intervening in every problem they have, you have made them reliant on you. You have sabotaged their self-will. If you were neutralized or controlled, they would be quickly consumed.


    "One of the duties of a god is to ensure that their subjects can stand on their own feet. And you have not done that."


    "Elranor never had a problem with how I do things," said Kiyora.


    "Elranor wants you to remain weak and easily manipulated," said Alchara. "I want the best for you, whatever you may believe."


    "Fine, whatever," said Kiyora. "I''ll stop helping people if it will shut you up. Now, unless you want to try invading me again, I''d like to be alone."


    The flowers faded. Then Kiyora was standing in front of Bjorn. He and his priests were prostrated before a statue of her. They looked up as she approached. "Dreaming Goddess, what... what was it that just happened?" asked Bjorn. "We... for a moment, you were gone, and in your place, there was darkness. Our wills were dragged into it, and we could not escape. What devilry is this? Has Laughing Wraith-"


    "I screwed up, okay," said Kiyora. "I''ve been doing too much for you, I guess. Or so I''ve been told. I... I won''t be able to help you as much, okay? Not with all the minor things. So from now on, if I ask if I can help, only give me something vital."


    "...I understand," said Bjorn, though he didn''t sound like it.


    "Now I''ve got to go," said Kiyora. "I''ve got to do one other thing."


    It was something she had wanted to do for a while now. But recent events have made it urgent that it be carried out soon. She appeared in the throne room of Arraxia. The demoness was lounging in her seat and stood as Kiyora approached.


    "Oh, the Dreaming Goddess," said Arraxia with a mocking bow. "How did that whole affair with Rioletta work out for you? I do hope you aren''t-"


    Kiyora punched her in the face. The demoness reeled beneath the blow and was sent off her feet to crash against a nearby pillar. Kiyora clutched her hand, which hurt.


    "Just fine," Kiyora said. "Have a nice day."


    She hoped William was having a better day than she was.

 Chapter 265 - Eleven: New Land

    William was not having a good day.


    The wind howled around him. His breath came out like steam in the fridged air. The snow beneath his boots made his pace slow. The scraggly trees around him provided little shelter as he stumbled on. The only reason he wasn''t dead was that his armor and cloak had returned to him. He should have frozen to death in minutes if he had appeared in this broken and freezing land without them.


    Than Elranor for small miracles.


    He''d never felt anything this cold. Not even in Carn Gable on a freezing winter. He knew he had to find shelter and find it quickly, or he was as good as dead.


    William limped out of the trees and saw before him a farmstead in the distance. He could seek shelter there. The snows were difficult to push through, and it was a labor to get to it, but he made it. Making for it, he drew closer. He found the door broken open. Within, he saw a charred corpse. Looking back, he saw skeletons. Dozens of them. Yet they were not the bodies of men but of minotaurs.


    Then he heard the sound of tearing and looked up. A creature he had seen before as a statue was picking at a corpse. It was dressed in furs and wore a bow and an arrow over one shoulder. It had the beak of a vulture and two wings like those of a hawk.


    He had seen this creature before in a statue worshipped by demons. It was a symbol. A symbol of an evil that had haunted him all his life.


    "Melchious," he said, drawing his sword.


    The beast looked up, beak dripping with blood. "In a manner of speaking. Now that these worms are done, you''re next, Gabriel."


    "You won''t find me easy prey, monster," He hefted his shield, the cold was forgotten.


    "Of that, I am in doubt," said Melchious.


    Then he surged forward, a flame whip coming from his hand as he slashed. William raised his shield, and the whip slashed it. The force sent him staggering backward, and he warded off several more blows. His shield was smoking.


    He rushed at the beast, but Melchious leaped and drew his bow. Firing several arrows, William caught them on his shield. One of them glanced off the side of his helm.


    "Enough running, coward!" roared William. "Come down here and face me!"


    "Why should I?" asked Melchious. "Does the hawk sink to the mouse''s level?"


    Another three arrows shot at him, and he narrowly warded them off. "The hawk has better success!"


    "Only one of my arrows needs to reach you," snarled Melchious. "My venom will do the rest."


    Venom. So his arrows were poisoned. Melchious circled him, firing arrows, and William could hardly keep up. William backed up; soon, his rear was guarded by the wall of the farmstead.


    Two more arrows struck William''s shield. Then Melchious reached for another and found his quiver empty. William brought down his sword and cut the shafts from his shield. Melchious descended and summoned a spear of flame to his hand, which he lunged at William with.


    William batted the spear aside with his sword. He slammed his shield against Melchious. The creature backed away before drawing up a leg and gripped his shield with one talon, dragging it away. He struck at the leg, but Melchious knocked it back with his spear. Then he lunged at his throat with his beak.


    William rolled aside and slashed at his enemy''s legs. The beast leaped back, hurling two knives. As they came toward him, William knocked them away.


    The combat paused for a moment. "Heh, you''ve matured somewhat since last we faced each other," said Melchious. "It''ll make feasting on your flesh all the more satisfying!"


    This was not at all like the Melchious William knew from what he knew of him. "One moment, you''re a suave tempter. The next, you''re a bloodthirsty monster. And now you''re a cannibal.


    "Not very consistent, are you?"


    "Heheheh, not really," laughed Melchious. "I have many guises, many faces, and many names! Laughing Wraith, Melchious, Laurus, and you, William, but we are all the Dark Dreamer!"


    "And Arraxia has beaten all of you," noted William.


    "You dare..." began Melchious. "ARRAXIA IS NOTHING TO ME! NOTHING!!"


    And he rushed forward with an axe. William fended him off as best he could, but he was soon being driven back. He tripped over a loose stone and hit the ground.


    "Die worm!" roared Melchious. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He brought down the axe, but William rolled aside and stabbed at the creature. His blade caught the creature in the leg. Yet it did not scream or flinch. It merely stepped out of reach and spun the axe to a guarded position. "You are persistent for a human. Appropriate for one of the Dark Dreamer''s Avatars."


    "I am nothing of the sort," said William.


    "Are you sure?" asked Melchious.


    "Quite," said William.


    "I once believed that as well," said Melchious. "Then, I saw him. I realized my folly. We are all of us but extensions of His will."


    "Well, he''s certainly working contrary to his interests," mused William.


    "You are the manifestation of his self-doubt," said Melchious, or part of him. "A remnant of his weakness. And once I destroy you, The Dark Dreamer will reign supreme!"


    "You are welcome to try," said William.


    The creature looked about to attack. Then it looked up as if catching the scent of something in the wind. In an instant, it rose into the air and flew away. William looked in the direction it had come from. He saw a caravan of minotaurs approaching on a cobblestone road. They were burdened with many bags. There were also a few dragging carts behind them filled with goods. They looked up to where Melchious was fading into the distance. Then they looked up at William. Several of them drew weapons as he approached.


    "That was Melchious'' Vulture!" said one. "What in hell''s name was it doing here? And who is that? You! Stand where you are while I get a look at you?! Who are you?!"


    William stopped and sheathed his sword. He raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion, servant of Elranor, and a squire of Harlenor. I am... lost."


    "You have the look of a servant of the Withering King," said the minotaur leader. He was huge, even for one of his kind, and had a long black beard. A massive axe was in his hands. "Take off your helm so that I might see your face."


    William drew it off. What lay beneath it caused them to murmur among themselves. William wondered why that was.


    "A human?" asked a red-furred minotaur with a missing eye. "Here?"


    "There are no humans in Viokinar," said a small white minotaur. Small being relative. "Not this far north."


    "Viokinar?" asked William. "That''s... that''s many miles north of even Haldren."


    "There are some in the far north of the Iron Kingdom," muttered the leader. "Still, he doesn''t have the look of one of those. What do you want?"


    "Help, to be honest," said William. "I need to get to civilization to take a ship back to Artarq." One more elaborate hassle, this would be worse than the trip to Gel Carn. He''d hardly found anyone on that road who wasn''t trying to double-cross him. The only consolation was that none of them had been good at it.


    "Well, you are lucky we are heading there, to civilization," said the leader. "We are bound for the town of Easoran. If that sword is more than ceremonial, you can join us."


    "You would let him go with us?" asked the red-furred one.


    "The road is getting increasingly dangerous," argued the leader. "Another sword could hardly hurt. And he drove off the Vulture of Melchious."


    "He could be a servant of Melchious himself," replied the red-furred one. "Or he might serve the Withering King."


    The leader rubbed his chin. "No, I don''t think so. Those who serve the Withering look, well, withered in some way. You recognize them when you see them if you know what to look for. As for Melchious, I doubt he''d bring a human all this way just to steal from a caravan.


    "Just keep an eye on him."


    "I assure you, I will be of no hindrance," said William, retrieving his shield. "I am a veteran of the Khasmir Campaign."


    "Khasmir Campaign?" asked the white-furred one, "What in demon''s name is that?"


    "I''ll tell you of it if you wish," said William.


    "Tell it to us on the way," said the leader. "We must find the house of Chieftain Behorn soon. We''ll attract unwanted attention out here. Come, we''ve tarried too long as it is. I am Balfast, the red-furred one is Drendig, and the white one is Morvan.


    "Keep up. We''ll not slow our journey for you."


    That was how William came to travel alongside a caravan of minotaurs in the frozen north. The minotaurs walked with long strides, and he had almost to run to keep up at times. In his heavy armor, this made the journey very unpleasant. Soon he was sweating, even in the frigid cold. As they went, he told them the short version of his history. Then he went into greater detail when he got to his adventures in Seathorius.


    Those seemed to interest them, but not in the same way they had got the interest of the Nakmar almost two years ago. They didn''t care at all about Kiyora or William resisting the lure of Arraxia''s bargain.


    They were very interested in the battles, however. William found himself going into great detail. The fall of Baltoth''s Retribution was a particular favorite. When the story moved on to the wars William had fought in, they became genuinely interested. Often they would ask for details about these. How many had been killed? What they did with the bodies.


    "So Melchious has reached forth his hand to other realms," mused Balfast. "I am glad it came back bloody. Yet I fear he will little lament his defeat. His feasts on the suffering and destruction of others. He cares nothing for his defeat so long as he causes harm in the midst of it."


    "Perhaps," said William. "I would like to know who that thing was? It claimed to be part of Melchious. Yet I don''t think it really is him."


    "The Vulture of Melchious is a demon worshipped by the satyrs," said Balfast. "Some say he gave them their insatiable thirst for blood. No one knows whence he came, but he feasts on the innocent. Cribs turn up empty when he is around, and farms are pillaged.


    "You must be formidable indeed to have driven him off."


    "It wasn''t easy," mused William. "And if I may be honest, I think I would have lost had you not arrived when you did. This Easorman place you are heading, where is it?"


    "Easorman lies to the far north of Viokinar," said Balfast. "However, it is separated from the Iron Kingdom to the east by the Teeth Mountains. We are taking a shipment of foodstuffs there, as is our custom. We sell them for great profit every year."


    "They have to buy their food?" asked William. "Why would they ever settle in a place where they cannot support themselves?"


    "Because of the iron. It lies in great veins near Easorman. It is stronger than anything which we know of. And it is prized above all else," said Morvan. "Even the Iron Kingdom doesn''t have anything like it. They sell it to us after we unload the food, and we sell it farther south."


    "What is so special about it?" asked William


    "It is stronger than normal iron, of course," said Balfast. "But that is not all. When weapons made from this kind of iron strike are bathed in blood, they absorb that blood power. A weapon made from such steel can become incredibly powerful.


    "We''ve sold some to the Nakmar Dwarves."


    "Would my sword be made of such iron?" asked William, drawing it out. He blinked as he saw the blade. It had taken on a reddish tinge. In Antion, most of the best iron came from the Border Hills under the dwarves who dwelled there.


    If another source of iron could be found, House Gabriel could use it to compete in that market. It was possible that they''d have to face a civil war. Having alternative sources would be a great asset. Even if no war happened, it could still be useful.


    Morvan took it and looked over it. "Yes, this is a sword made from it, no mistake. Where did you get it?"


    "It was a gift from the Nakmar dwarves of Seathorius, of course," said William. "The one they gave to me."


    "Ah, yes, right," said Morvan. "I forgot that part of the tale. We have, on occasion, sold to the Nakmar such metals. It was a Kingly gift they gave to you. This Dreaming Goddess must have greatly favored you."


    "Something to that effect," said William with a smile. "Can I get a ship at Easorman to the south?"


    "No," said Drendig. "The seas are very rough, and monsters prowl the waters to the north of Viokinar. That is why they cannot fish for their food. You''d have to head south."


    "Then perhaps I should do so now," mused William.


    "I wouldn''t," said Morvan. "The roads are very dangerous. Traveling alone is a veritable death sentence. You should come with us to Easorman. We''ll deliver our goods, feast together, and then, in a few days, we can move back south toward the ports. We''ll all be safer on the road together than alone."


    "I see," said William. "I do not know this land, so that I will heed your counsel."


    "Wise," said Morvan. "Tell me, why do you dress like a servant of the Withering King?"


    "I don''t mean to," said William. "I don''t even know who the Withering King is."


    "He is a dark power, comparable in strength to Melchious," said Balfast. "Though not in wickedness. He has power over the spirits of many dead men and presides over the Kingdom of Undeath. We have often known him as an enemy."


    "Still, there have been one or two times when we worked with him," said Morvan. "You can reason with the Withering King, and he has a sense of honor. Only a fool would try to reason with Melchious."


    "Men do," muttered Drendig.


    "There are many fools in the world, Drendig," said Morvan.


    "My Father did," said William, feeling defensive. "And he defeated Melchious at his own game."


    "You cannot be serious," said Drendig. "How?"


    "I''ll tell that story later," said William. "Not here. What is that up ahead?"


    He saw ahead a gap in the line of hills. It was very narrow and flanked by great crystals of ice. It couldn''t have been wider than ten feet, and the sides'' walls were nearly a hundred feet high. As they drew nearer, he saw they looked to have been cut by pickaxes.


    "The pass of Kalathan," said Balfast. "A perfect place for an ambush. We must be cautious. Drendig, Morvan, move on ahead and scout the cliffs. I want to know if anyone is up there waiting for us."


    William had the feeling things were about to get interesting. And not in a good way. Then again, that was somewhat redundant.

 Chapter 266 - Twelve: Easormen

    While they waited for Drendig and Morvan, it began to snow in waves. Balfast and the rest of the group gathered fuel and started a fire. William could have been more useful in the second part of it, something Balfast noted.


    "How are you so poor at starting fires?" he asked. "You''ve seen battle; that much is plain, and in your story, you traveled much."


    "To be honest," said William, "my friend and servant Felix usually deals with such menial chores. While I was on campaign, I was the son of a Duke. So I was spared having to have much part in the matter."


    "Well, you ought to learn," said Balfast. "You won''t always have servants around. The next time we stop, I''ll instruct you in it."


    "My thanks," said William, feeling very foolish. "When do you suppose Drendig and Morvan will come back?"


    "It may be an hour or more," admitted Balfast. "See, that pass has... problems. Sometimes parts of it get snowed in completely, and it becomes impassable. It always gets snowed in during the dead of winter. And sometimes the satyrs stick around in ambush.


    "They''ll want to steal what we have, you see."


    "I''ve had my fill of satyrs," admitted William. "But they aren''t all bad."


    "Maybe not where you are from," muttered Balfast. "And in some places, the sky may be green. But here, we must contend with the savages daily. They all worship Fortenex, but Melchious is a popular minor god among them. Those that worship him are vicious."


    "That I can believe," said William. "Why don''t you have beasts of burden? Surely you can carry more?"


    "You humans are as skinny as twigs," said Balfast. "So a beast of burden is a great help to you. But we minotaurs are strong. We can carry a far greater load than you and fight while doing it. So having oxen or other such animals is not worth the extra food.


    "Especially since we eat the same things."


    "Ah, of course," said William. "That seems obvious." He paused. "Though oxen don''t want to be paid."


    "I suppose not," mused Balfast. "But we minotaurs don''t have the same ideas about ownership you and the dwarves have. You see, our weapons, equipment, and food are not ours, per se. Rather they are entrusted to us by our chieftain. But they don''t belong to him either. He just decides what is done with the clan''s possessions. And he can be removed if he misuses this power."


    "But I am well acquainted with a Captain, Hrungeld," said William. "He is a minotaur, yet he seems to regard his ship as his property."


    "Yes," mused Balfast. "I''m told that minotaurs who sail beyond Viokinar pick up strange ideas. Some clans have had disputes where one claims that a thing is his by right. That it should belong to him and him alone since he made it. Or since he found it."


    "Surely there are things which cannot belong to a group," said William.


    "Such as?" asked Balfast.


    William thought about it. "The Goldenwood Harp. It..." He found he was having difficulty coming up with an answer. "Well, I found it. And I wielded it against many dark things. Yet when my goddess Kiyora needed escape, I traded it for her freedom."


    "What you have done is describe something an individual owns," said Balfast. "That does not prove that a group could not have owned it."


    "Well, what about the Hammer of Kreshlak?" asked William. "Or the Axe of Fortenex? Those choose their wielders."


    "Those belong to the gods," said Balfast. "And are given by them."


    "Yet the gods are individuals, are they not?" asked William.


    Balfast considered it. "The purpose of all property belonging to a group is that no individual may misuse it. The gods are superior to us. They know better. Therefore they may be entrusted with personal property."


    "So if a mortal was wise enough, they might also be entrusted with their property?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Balfast.


    "What if the group was unworthy and the individual was worthy?" asked William.


    "What do you mean?" asked Balfast.


    "Well, suppose that the group as a whole chose to do something utterly wrong, such as sacrificing their children to Melchious. And an individual defied and refused," asked William. "Would that individual be worthy to rule over the group as a whole?"


    "What you describe has happened once or twice in our history," mused Balfast. "Generally, our solution is to kill the entire group and let Kreshlak sort them out. He hates child sacrifice. You think about things a lot, don''t you?"


    "Well, I''ve faced many hard questions," admitted William.


    Balfast laughed. "I like you. However, I shouldn''t ask such questions of others. Some might take offense."


    At that moment, Drendig and Morvan emerged from the snow. They looked foul, and their cloaks were covered in snow. They sat down by the fire and warmed their hands. Balfast looked at them expectantly, and Morvan sighed. "There is no sign of anything, Balfast. We are clear. But it is freezing down there. We might wait for better weather."


    "Weather can get worse as well as better, Morvan," said Balfast. "And if it gets much worse than this, the whole pass will be snowed in. Let''s get through this place quickly. I always hate this part of the journey."


    They scattered fire, hoisted their packs, and made for the pass. William shouldered his cloak and kept close to Balfast. He was curious about this land, even if it was colder than Carn Gable. "How many times have you done this?" asked William.


    "I think it would be a dozen times now," said Balfast. "My father and his father before him have done a business like this. And it has only gotten better with time. Of course, all the caravans only attract more satyrs and giants."


    "Giants?" asked William. "You have them here?"


    "Yes, lumbering monsters," said Balfast. "A few can be reasoned with, but even they are dangerous. And some devour whole villages to satiate their appetites. They are an older race and one of the nastier ones."


    "Older race?" asked William. "I was taught they were created simultaneously as humans."


    "To you, perhaps," said Balfast. "We minotaurs are a bit younger."


    "How did you come into being?" asked William.


    "On this world?" asked Balfast. "The Goddess Zeya had her way with a white bull she saw emerging from the sea. Her children were the first minotaurs. But she despised them and sought to imprison them beneath the earth.


    "Yet Typhos, the mother of all monsters, pitied us and arranged our escape to Viokinar. Here she entrusted us to Kreshlak, and he raised us. We thrived, multiplied, and established colonies in many places.


    "Some even in Themious."


    "I imagine that doesn''t please Zeya." mused William.


    "We aren''t much inclined to care," admitted Balfast. "Kreshlak is our father, and Typhos, our mother. In spirit, if not in blood."


    The pass soon loomed overhead, and William felt it ominous. The sheer walls on either side of them seemed more like an open maw of jagged teeth than a pass. He could see ice spikes growing up on either side of their path and similar spikes growing from above. As they walked, shards of ice would come tumbling down every so often.


    William noticed that the walls looked to have been cut. They were rough-hewn. "Is this place natural, Balfast?"


    "No," said Balfast. "It used to be that getting over these hills required climbing them with a pack¡ªdangerous and miserable business. But then my grandfather dug his way through with a pickaxe. They mocked him, laughed at him, and then ate their words.


    "His efforts have allowed trade to flourish. The colonies to the north are far larger than they ever were before."


    "Who was he?" asked William.


    "Einhar, the Mountainmover they call him these days," laughed Balfast. "I always knew him as Grandfather. He widened the pass throughout his life, and now it stands here as a testament to his strength."


    "Hold on a moment," said William.


    He suddenly felt bad and wanted to see what was above him. He placed one gauntleted hand on the wall and began scaling it up. The armor was heavy, but he''d done this before. It was still miserable, though.


    "You climb well," noted Balfast below.


    "It''s a lot harder in this armor," gasped William.


    He hoisted himself over the top and looked up the hill. And then he saw them. A pack of satyrs clad in furs and wielding axes came over the mountain. He glanced down. "Balfast, you''d best get moving quickly! There are satyrs headed this way!"


    "How far?" asked Balfast.


    "A mile perhaps," said William. "I''ll stay here and keep them off if they get near enough." He drew his sword.


    "Right," said Balfast. "Get moving, you slowhoofs! We need haste!"


    William raised his shield and prepared to fend them off. But after seeing him, they halted and lingered by the ridge. He walked alongside the ridge as Balfast and his minotaurs hurried through the pass.


    "What of the satyrs, William?" called up Balfast.


    "They are just standing there," said William. Then he saw a familiar figure appear over the ridge. "Karasush..." The satyr raised both hands, and magic was in the air. If he had seen him, William couldn''t tell.


    "Who?" asked Balfast.


    "A sorcerer with power over snow," said William. Then he felt the snow beneath him shifting. The satyrs pulled back as the snow on the ground surged forward like an ocean against the shore. "He''s going to start an avalanche!"


    "Drop the carts and take only what you can by hand!" roared Balfast.


    "We''ll lose a mighty profit!" said Morvan.


    "Better that than our lives!" said Balfast, "Go!"


    William and the minotaurs fled. As they did, William saw what appeared to be a tidal wave of snow on the hill''s crest. Ahead of him, he could see the end of the pass. They were nearly there. The wave fell, and William leaped forward just in time to avoid it as it poured over the pass.


    He tumbled down the hill and landed hard, nearly impaling himself on his sword. Looking up, he saw Balfast and the others had made it through. But they were fewer in number than before.


    He rushed over to them. "Everyone alright?"


    "Where are Drendig and Morvan?" asked Balfast. "Drendig, Morvan! Where are you?"


    "Look there!" said a minotaur. He pointed to the snow.


    William saw an arm sticking out of the snow, spasming wildly. "Dig them out quickly. Now!" roared Balfast as he ran to them.


    The minotaurs dug quickly. Gradually they pulled Drendig out of the snow. He gasped air on the ground. "Drendig, you''re alive," said Balfast.


    "Kreshlak above, I''ll pay the satyrs back for this," said Drendig. "Where is Morvan?"


    "He was further back away." said a minotaur. "I fell, and he helped me up. He''ll be frozen to death long before we get him out, assuming he wasn''t crushed."


    Balfast looked very bitter. "Come on, let''s move."


    "Give us a moment," said Drendig.


    "The satyrs are coming soon," said Balfast. "We''ll want to be away from here, at least a little ways."


    William looked up and saw the satyrs coming down toward them on the hill. "There they are now. We''ve got to go."


    They fled as quickly as they could. The satyrs did not pursue it. Instead, they went down to the pass and looked at it. Down after them came Karasush, hands clasped behind his back. With him came dozens and dozens of more satyrs. Far more numerous than expected.


    "Why would they start an avalanche?" asked a minotaur. "How could they gain?"


    Karasush reached the pass. Then he raised a hand. The snow before him flowed away from him, scaling back up the hill around them and leaving the pass empty. And there were the minotaurs who had been trapped, as well as the carts that had been left behind.


    They stirred, but the satyrs were on them in seconds. It looked like they would cut them to pieces, but Karasush raised a hand and said something on their tongue. Instead, the satyrs looted the packs off the minotaur''s backs. Then they sent them away.


    Karasush raised a hand and snapped his fingers. The snow whirled around them. Gradually, it settled. When it was done, the pass was sealed once more, and the carts and bundles were all gone.


    "How can anyone command the snows on such a level?" wondered Balfast.


    "Karasush is a powerful sorcerer. I''ve met him before," said William. "He''s a follower of Fortenex and a powerful one, though I''ve never seen him in action before."


    "We should have fallen on them, Balfast!" said Drendig. "Cut the miserable cretins to death!"


    "There are were too many," said Balfast. "At least our men are still alive. Go to them and build a fire at once. We''ll need to warm them up quickly.


    "At least we still have some of our goods. Though I think it will be a hungry winter in Easormen."


    The fires were started, and the nearly frozen minotaurs were warmed as much as they could manage. Most of them caught a cold and were shuddering and sneezing. Fortunately, William had healing magic.


    Balfast kept giving him looks, though. Finally, they set out along the road. William hoped there wouldn''t be any more incidents.


    "How far to Easorman?" asked William.


    "Several miles at least," said Balfast. "Come, we''ll rest once we get there."


    "When did you meet Karasush?" asked Morvan.


    "He had me kidnapped by an enemy of mine," said William. "Then he played both of us for fools. He hoped to help Melchious unleash an army of demons called raishans on the land of Khasmir. When we won, he said he had only done so out of coercion and to save his people.


    "We didn''t fully believe him, of course, but it was to our benefit to at least pretend to."


    "So this all happened because you didn''t cleave his skull in?" said Drendig.


    "We''d just finished a massive war," said William. "We weren''t in the mood to start another one. If we hadn''t let him help us, he''d have gone to Baltoth."


    "This kind of politics is why I hate foreigners," muttered Drendig.


    "My apologies," snapped William. "A person in my Father''s position does not have the luxury of liking everyone he works with."


    "Enough," said Balfast. "We''re almost there."


    They came around the bend and finally saw Easorman. It was a large town with wooden roofs and log walls. Smoke was pouring from every chimney, and he could see mines dug into the side of the hills. A port in the distant west was also connected to a white sea. At the dead center of the town on a plateau was a wooden hall carved with many symbols. A twenty-foot stone wall surrounded the entire city. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It is quite rugged, isn''t it?" asked William.


    "Indeed," said Balfast. "And that on the hill is the hall of Chieftain Behorn! Come, tonight we''ll drink and make merry even if we won''t be wealthy at the end. Lost half my damn shipment."


    The gates of Easorman were tall and reinforced with iron bars. Atop the wall, a lookout called down to them with an arrow notched to his bow. "Who goes there?"


    "I am Balfast," said Balfast. "I''ve come with supplies for the village."


    "You don''t look heavily laden," noted the lookout.


    "The satyrs started an avalanche as we went through the pass," said Balfast. "We had to save what we could."


    "Behorn won''t be pleased about that," said the lookout. "Open the gates; let them in."


    The town within was bustling. Wherever they walked, they saw blacksmiths working metal. There were carpenters carving wood and priests performing rituals. It was crowded, and the watchman stood by with spears and helms.


    Balfast led them through the town and up a series of steps to the top of the plateau. As they came to the doors of the hall, they opened. Out strode a massive minotaur female with black spots. She hugged Balfast warmly. "Balfast, you old cow! It''s been too long. Unload your things quickly, then you and your companions come with me to my hall! We''ll drink a toast and share stories like old times!"


    "Just so long as we pay back the satyrs in due time, Behorn," said Balfast.


    "A fine idea," said Behorn. "Still, let''s warm up a bit before we do anything." She looked at William. "Wait, who is this human?"


    "He is not from the Iron Kingdom," said Balfast. "He claims to have been transported here by the gods. I don''t know what to make of him, but he''s been of some value to me."


    "Well then, he''ll be welcome with the rest of your men," said Behorn. "Come, master human, come in and tell me your story. We have been without new tales for many months."


    They entered a grand dining room. On the walls were the heads of many monsters. One, in particular, was of a massive snakelike creature with horns. It had a beak in place of a mouth and red eyes. Balfast looked at it in bemusement.


    "The sea serpent is new," he said.


    "Yes, yes it is," said Behorn. "One of my hunters caught the beast and hung it on the wall. My son has done his work well. So tell me of these troubles, Balfast. And try not to leave anything out; I love your stories."


    Food was laid out on the table. Roasted goat meat of exquisite tenderness. Balfast told the story in full. There were some parts of it that William needed to learn, they had happened before he joined the company. It seemed that Balfast had had a dangerous road even before he''d met William. He''d had to fend off a group of giants who came after them, kept them back, and been held up by unnatural storms. William wondered what these giants looked like and half hoped he would see one. Though fighting, one seemed out of the question.


    "Well, you''ve certainly had a time of it," said Behorn. "The satyrs have been restless of late. We''ve had one or two skirmishes with them already. If Drendig returns with their location, I''ll gladly wipe them out. Still, this Karasush concerns me.


    "Not many sorcerers have enough power to start an avalanche."


    "He might not have needed a lot of power," said William. "Avalanches don''t start because all the snow moves at once. They do it because some snow picks up momentum and causes the snow around it to fall. That causes the snow around it to fall, and so on."


    "Yes, I suppose he might have simply dropped a few pebbles. Perhaps he''s not a sorcerer at all," mused Behorn.


    "No, he is one," said William. "I''ve seen him in action. With the way he can summon snowstorms, he must have some powerful support."


    "Then why did you tell me he was not a powerful sorcerer?" asked Behorn.


    "I didn''t," said William. "I meant to say that the avalanche alone did not indicate that he was a powerful sorcerer."


    "You do play around with words, don''t you, little human?" asked Behorn.


    "I was educated by a very learned sorceress named Rusara," said William. "Sometimes I get ahead of myself."


    "Well, this seems as good a time as any for you to tell us your story," said Behorn. "From the beginning, of course."


    "What do you mean "from the beginning?" asked William. "I can''t exactly tell you my life story?"


    "Then tell us an interesting story from it," said Behorn. "You must have a few."


    "Alright then," said William. "Over a year ago, my friend Felix and I were captured by satyrs. While I languished in their dungeons, I was approached by a demoness..."


    He told them how he had been rescued by Kiyora and ventured across Seathorius. This time, he added many more details than he had when talking to Balfast, so the story was almost new to him. He described the Nakmar''s customs. He spoke of how he had befriended Massacre and escaped from Laughing Wraith.


    They seemed to enjoy the tale. "Now, that is quite a story. Yet you''ve only told us how you got to Artarq. How is it that you came here?"


    William realized that the light coming in through the windows had faded. Night was coming on, and the only illumination source was the fire burning in the hall. "Honestly, the story is quite a bit longer than that, and we''re all tired.


    "I suggest we pick it up tomorrow.


    "Yes, yes, a wise idea," said Behorn. "Tales are best when spread out. Go over them too quickly, and you cannot appreciate their twists and turns. That harp you play with is the one you got from the chimeras den?"


    "No," said William. "I... well, I no longer have that one. My tale tomorrow will tell you how I lost it."


    "I look forward to it," said Behorn. "Still, what are your plans now?"


    "Well, I was hoping to head south and find a ship back to my own land," said William.


    "You may find that difficult with the pass sealed off by rock and snow," mused Behorn. "You might scale the heights, but the satyrs are bound to prowl around now. And winter will come on in a bit."


    "I suppose so," said William. "Is there any other way south?"


    "Not in winter," said Behorn. "Yet you might go east."


    "East?" asked William in surprise.


    "Yes," said Behorn. "The Iron Kingdom lies that way."


    "But I''ve seen only mountains to the east," said William. "Is there some hidden pass?"


    "No," admitted Behorn. "And in winter, climbing over them means death. But there are ways under them. Through the domain of the Withering King."


    William remained silent for a moment. "Who is this Withering King?" he asked after a moment. "I have heard of him in stories but with few details."


    "A servant of the Withering," said Behorn. "The greatest and strongest of them all. He can slaughter entire armies by himself, and his minions are legion. Yet he has little interest in conquest, fortunately for us. If you pass through his domain and you don''t anger him, you might make it to the other side."


    "Where would I go to reach this place?" asked William.


    "I will gladly lead you there myself in a few days," said Behorn. Then lightning shattered the sky, and Behorn looked up. "Ah, thunder graces the sky. Kreshlak is riding the winds in his chariot."


    "What is a chariot?" asked William.


    "A cart was drawn by four fire-breathing goats that were sired by his union with a giantess. Or so some of the stories go," said Behorn. "Even the Iron Kingdom cannot keep out Kreshlak when he sets himself to it."


    "What is this Iron Kingdom like?" asked William.


    "A bitter realm where gods are banished," said Behorn. "Those that rule it claim the gods are evil and persecute those who believe in them. The fools have it in their heads that mortals can rule themselves without gods."


    "That doesn''t sound like a very safe philosophy," said William. "How do they protect themselves from the supernatural?"


    "Something to do with the power of the mortal spirit," said Behorn. "I don''t know, I''ve never understood it. Balfast, you''ve traded with them once or twice, yes?"


    "Once," said Balfast. "I have no desire to return there, however. The friend I was staying with was found to have kept a necklace with the image of Kreshlak on it. They crucified him, threw me in prison, and took my goods without trial.


    "I managed to bribe my captor and had to make my way out on foot."


    "So you see, you may want to consider staying here until spring, Paladin," said Behorn. "Even if you make it through the domain of the Withering King, you''ll only find yourself hunted. If you reveal yourself, you will likely come to a horrible and untimely end."


    William hesitated. It might be nice to stay here. Certainly less dangerous. But simultaneously, he felt he was needed somewhere beyond those mountains. He had to act. Yet how would it appeal to his hosts? "I intend to go anyway. I like the idea of enjoying your hospitality, but there will be more adventure this way."


    "Now that is a warrior''s answer," laughed Behorn. "Still, it is late, and we''re all tired. Let us sleep and make our plans in the morning."


    "I thank you for your hospitality," said William.


    "As do I," laughed Behorn. "I''d like to know if all those stories you told are true or not. However, you deserve hospitality simply for telling them either way. Either way, you should stay a few days here. It is too cold to make the journey now.


    "And perhaps while we wait, you may finish your story."


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 Chapter 267 - Thirteen: The Iron Kingdom

    Duke Vanion was sitting alone in his office.


    The man was leaning over a crystal ball which hummed lightly beneath his brown gloved hands. His eyes were closed. After a time, he opened them and looked at Kiyora. Where had he gotten that thing anyway?


    "Hey," said Kiyora.


    "Kiyora, perfect timing," said Vanion. "I have only just finished communing with the border forts. The ones that are still under construction. My hope is to have a crystal ball like this one in every one of them, just as we have with those bordering Seathorius.


    "Though it may take some effort.


    "How can I help?"


    "I was just looking for William," said Kiyora. "Do you know where he is?"


    Vanion''s expression darkened. "Unfortunately, yes. He is in Viokinar."


    "Viokinar?" asked Kiyora. "You mean that country where the minotaurs are from?"


    "Yes," said Vanion. "Rusara tells me that he has somehow made his way over there. Do you know how?"


    How did this happen? Kiyora could have sworn she''d sent him back where he came from. Well, she didn''t know how she did it. Usually, she just willed it, and it happened. "I meant to send him back here. I don''t know how he could have gotten there; I''ve never been there."


    "Well, I would appreciate it if you could bring him back," said Vanion. "He''s giving me interesting information, but I''d much rather my son be safe than useful now."


    "Right, one sec," said Kiyora.


    She willed that William be drawn here now. Nothing happened. She tried to go to him again, and there was a distinct lack of anything happening.


    "Well?" asked Vanion.


    "I can''t go to him," said Kiyora. "Something is stopping me."


    "As I suspected," said Vanion. "Another power has drawn him there for whatever end. Probably either Melchious or Fortenex. No matter, I have another problem."


    "What could be worse than your son being stuck in Viokinar?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Axe of Fortenex heading that way," said Vanion. "The ship I had sent it by has been drawn away by some other means, and the Axe is in Viokinar."


    "Then someone has stolen it?" asked Kiyora.


    "I do not think so," said Vanion. "Not yet. Rusara installed special wards to ensure we knew if anyone took it out of its box. I find it more likely that Hrungeld still has it and is being pursued. I''d like you to go to Felix if you can. Once I know what is happening there, I can plan to retrieve it."


    "Right, I''ll be right back," said Kiyora.


    She focused on going to Felix. And this time, she got somewhere. There was a flash, and she found herself amid the dreariest and grayest wood she''d ever seen. The branches were all drooping. The underbrush was spiky, and every color was drab. Just looking at the place made her feel depressed.


    Felix was around here somewhere. "Felix?!" called Kiyora. "Felix, are you there?"


    Felix emerged from the shadow of a tree and motioned. "Kiyora, get out of sight, you idiot."


    Kiyora blinked. "Right, okay. What is going on here?"


    "What does it look like?" hissed Felix. "I''m hiding for my life. Quiet."


    Kiyora went up to him and hid alongside him. No sooner had she done so and out of the trees emerged two dwarves from opposite directions. They wore heavy black armor and held huge axes in their hands. One of them nodded to the other.


    "Any sign yet?" he asked. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No," said the other. "This fool is very good at skulking, whoever he is."


    "Keep looking." said the first. "We''ll find him sooner or later."


    And they walked off. Kiyora watched them go in surprise. As she did, she felt a pang of hatred from the trees. Trees didn''t usually exude emotions. You had to dig deep.


    "Who are those guys?" she asked.


    "Soldiers of the Iron Kingdom," said Felix. "I''ve been dodging them for days."


    "What happened?" asked Kiyora. "How did you get here?"


    "We were sailing for Brisgald as planned," said Felix. "Then, suddenly, something took control of the ship and started hauling it toward Viokinar. I figured out that whoever it was was probably after the Axe of Fortenex. So Massacre and I leaped overboard and swam to shore with the box.


    "I don''t know what happened to the others, and I don''t have time to think about it."


    "Okay, okay, let me think," said Kiyora. "Where is Massacre now?"


    Massacre emerged from the underbrush, munching on thorns. The chimera looked in a foul mood. Her golden fur was dirty, and even her dragon head seemed annoyed.


    "Oh, hey, girl," said Kiyora, scratching the lion''s head behind the ears.


    "Bah," said the goat head.


    Kiyora paused. "Okay, Felix, you have everything under control. So I''m going to check on Tanith. I''ll see what she''s been up to. I''ll see if I can make some plans."


    "Just be careful," said Felix. "If my guess is correct, she''s either in prison or a corpse."


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    "Don''t get my hopes up," said Kiyora.


    On that pleasant note, Kiyora departed. The next place she appeared was the deck of a ship. And Tanith was leaning against the prow, juggling daggers. When she saw Kiyora, she started, lost her footing, and nearly took a dagger to the knee.


    "What the-" Tanith looked like she had something nasty to say. Then she paused. "You''re the Dreaming Goddess?"


    "Tanith, right?" asked Kiyora. "What is going on here?"


    "What does it look like?" asked Tanith, retrieving her fallen weapons. "I''m juggling daggers."


    "Well yeah, I got that," said Kiyora. "I just kind of figured you''d be in prison."


    "Sorry to disappoint you," said Tanith.


    At that moment, a minotaur stormed up on deck and came into view. He took one look at Kiyora, then glanced at Tanith. "Who is this? What is an elf doing here?"


    "I''m Kiyora Yagos, the Dreaming Goddess," said Kiyora. "I''m looking into the disappearance of the Axe of Fortenex. Felix told me he had to leap overboard."


    "I was carrying the Axe of Fortenex?!" said Hrungeld. "Why didn''t you tell me?!"


    "Because you didn''t need to know, Hrungeld," said Tanith. "If things had gone according to plan, you''d never have known. And the fewer people who did know, the better. If this leaked, we''d have ships trying to kill us the whole way."


    "Yes, right," said Hrungeld, calming himself. "We were setting a course for Brisgald like planned when the tides began to take us elsewhere. A fell wind blew us away, and no matter what we did, we couldn''t break free. As we neared the shore, we decided that whatever was doing, this was after what Felix was carrying, the Axe, I suppose.


    "So he and Massacre leaped overboard and tried swimming to shore. We arrived in the city, and we''ve been stuck here ever since."


    "Where is here?" asked Kiyora.


    Tanith closed her eyes, opened them, stood up, tapped Kiyora on the shoulder, and pointed to the left. Kiyora turned. Then she saw the city. The person who built it must have been particular in what they wanted. The most lifeless, depressing, and dull buildings in history. Add a few spikes to each, and you have it. They could at least have put some skull designs on it. Just looking at the place made Kiyora bored. The only remarkable thing about it was the pillars.


    Great black pillars of a shiny marble-like material were rising throughout the city. They could have been more exciting. It was more like they were sucking all the excitement out of the surrounding area. If one looked hard enough, you could glimpse the excitement before it was gone forever.


    "The Iron Kingdom," said Hrungeld. "A major port along the northeastern coast of Viokinar. The only place in the whole continent where you''ll find humans. Though only a few. It''s a miserable place. I never come here if I can help it; too many Calishans around you, understand."


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora. "I''ll just go tell Duke Vanion what happened, and he''ll negotiate or send a fleet or whatever."


    "You do that," said Tanith.


    Kiyora focused and closed her eyes. Then she opened them and found that she had not left."...You appear to be here still?" said Hrungeld.


    "Yeah, yeah, I am," noted Kiyora. "This doesn''t usually happen. I haven''t felt like this since I ran across those raishans."


    "Oh right," said Tanith. "That''s where I saw you. Don''t those things drive out gods?"


    "The Iron Kingdom maintains strict control on all divine worship," said Hrungeld. "You see those pillars?"


    "Yes," said Kiyora.


    "They are designed to control all magic in the surrounding area," said Hrungeld. "The runes upon them enslave the spirits of the land. Or something to that effect; I didn''t quite get it."


    "Well, how am I supposed to get out of here then?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, I''d offer to take you out of range by boat, but..." Hrungeld pointed to the right. Kiyora followed the gesture and saw that walls protected the entire harbor. "Those sea gates prevent anyone from doing anything."


    "Do you think maybe we could break out somehow?" asked Kiyora.


    "It might be worth a tale," said Hrungeld. "But I''m not sure I want to cross that bridge yet. The Iron Kingdom seems just as surprised at us coming here as we were. I suspect someone else might be at work in all this."


    "You mean like Lord Byran?" asked Tanith. "Because he''s gathering on the shore with troops."


    Hrungeld looked up. Kiyora looked where he was looking. Making their way up the pier was an unusually large dwarf. He was almost human-sized, in fact. He wore black armor with ornate silver decoration and had a two-handed blade on his back. With him were many dwarves like those Kiyora had seen pursuing Felix.


    "These people have a very unforgiving view of gods," said Hrungeld. "Don''t mention anything of the sort. If they ask you who you are, say you are an apprentice from Magicora who got here in an accident."


    "Okay," said Kiyora.


    The dwarf scaled up the gangplank, and Hrungeld walked to meet him. He bowed low for a minotaur, which wasn''t very low at all. "Lord Byran, this is an unexpected pleasure. How may I-"


    "My sorcerers detected a surge of divine energy upon this vessel," said Byran. His voice was cold and emotionless. "What is the meaning of this?"


    "Oh, um, that was me," said Kiyora. "I''m an apprentice at Magicora, experimenting with holy artifacts. I kind of disobeyed my master, and I ended up activating them. Eventually, I ended up here."


    "An elf," mused Byran. "I was not aware there were many of you at Magicora."


    "I''m an exchange student from Actovosh," lied Kiyora.


    "I have never heard of such a place," mused Byran. "No matter. Intrusion within the Iron Kingdom is no laughing matter, whether intentional or not. Take her."


    "With respect, Lord Byran, she has not done any harm thus far," said Hrungeld. "And this vessel is the domain of my clan."


    "Your vessel is in the domain of the Iron Kingdom," said Byran. "Technicalities must give way to realities. Unless you intend to remain here even longer, I suggest you get out of my way." And he put a hand to his sword.


    "...As you wish," said Hrungeld.


    Hrungeld was afraid of this dwarf. Kiyora supposed that meant he was dangerous. But there was no way she was getting taken captive for the second time this week. So she turned and ran for the end of the ship.


    She leaped over the side and plunged into the dark waters.


    Unfortunately, she hadn''t done much swimming. She didn''t precisely cut through the water like a knife toward the shore. Instead, she floundered her way in the general direction of land and it was cold. Very cold so that she felt her limbs going numb, until her power awoke within her.


    "Damn it!" she gasped. "I wish I''d chosen the swim club!"


    Then she felt something. It swam past her leg, and she was pushed several feet in the other direction. Then the beast arose before her. It was a huge serpent that rose almost ten feet over the water. It had bright blue eyes and sharp teeth, which were bared.


    "What the hell?!" she said.


    "Do you see that creature in the water, girl," called Byran. "That is the Iron Serpent, Jormungsk. The guardian of the Iron Kingdom''s waters. My forefathers save his life. Since then, all who have sought to threaten us by sea have felt its wrath. If you swim back now, you have my word that no harm will befall you.


    "Remain, and you will be devoured."


    At that moment, two sharp talons gripped Kiyora by the shoulders. She was pulled out of the water, and a long tail wrapped around her waist. Something brought her onto the pier and deposited her as Byran arrived.


    "Delenay," growled Byran. "What is the meaning of this?"


    "This girl is mine," said Arraxoa. "She was drawn to this place by my will. If you desire her, it will risk our alliance."


    "You did so with no word from us," said Byran.


    "After all I''ve done for you, I''d appreciate not being denied my pleasures," shot back Arraxia.


    "Animal," hissed Byran. "Take her and be gone."


    "As you wish," said Arraxia.


    Kiyora stood and eyed Arraxia carefully. "Why would you help me?"


    "Silence, slave!" cried Arraxia before lashing her across the back with her tail. The force of it sent Kiyora to her knees. Ow. Then the demoness smiled. "Only joking, of course. Follow me; I''ll explain things after I''ve gotten you a change of clothes."


    "That''s your idea of a joke?" asked Kiyora.


    "Of course," said Arraxia. "Physical abuse is amusing to me when it happens to people I dislike."


    This boded well. Arraxia seemed to dislike everyone.

 Chapter 268 - Fourteen: The City of Iron

    Arraxia''s quarters were very simple. There was a carefully made bed that didn''t look like anyone had slept in it in years. There was a desk filled with various documents and a pen and parchment. It had a thin layer of dust over it.


    Kiyora was given a fresh change of clothes. They were drab, gray, and practical, like everything else in this city. Arraxia leaned against the wall with her arms crossed and her eyes fixed on the ceiling.


    Oddly enough, Kiyora felt at ease with this situation, too at ease. It didn''t feel natural. It was like how it felt to be near Alchara.


    "So what exactly are you doing here, Arraxia?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, you know, scheming my ascension into godhood," said Arraxia. "Plotting the ruination of all my enemies. Playing both sides."


    "I know that," said Kiyora. "I''m asking because I want details."


    "Yes, I suppose you do," said Arraxia. "When you put your spirit into Baltoth''s Retribution, we connected. When you tried to return him home, I used that to shift William to Viokinar."


    "Why?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, obviously, because I want him to die in a fashion that benefits me," said Arraxia. "I even told one of Melchious'' servants where he was. I''m rather proud of how I did all this, to be honest."


    "Uh huh, and what''s stopping me from telling Vanion exactly what you''ve been up to?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, nothing, of course," said Arraxia. "You may return whenever you wish and tell Duke Vanion everything he wants to know. Assuming you can raise the will to do so."


    Kiyora was about to do just that. But she didn''t. She felt compelled to stay here. Arraxia''s will was on her, and she had to strain against it. Yet it would not move. It was like a vice. And suddenly, she didn''t want to break free.


    "...This is weird," Kiyora murmured. "Why don''t I want to?"


    Arraxia cupped her cheek with one claw and leaned in. "Our will has become mixed. And since I am the stronger, my will takes precedence."


    "Wow, counting your chickens before they hatch, aren''t you?" asked Kiyora, brushing her off. "So, what is your plan again?"


    "Well, I was hoping to get the Axe of Fortenex for my own," said Arraxia. "I wasn''t able to wield it before, but I imagine I''ll be able to wield it once I gain enough power. And in the meantime, I have several other plans in motion.


    "For instance, the gentleman approaching the door even now."


    The door opened, and a masked satyr entered. He resembled the person William had described as Karasush. He regarded Kiyora, though she couldn''t see his expression beneath his mask.


    "Delenay, I see you brought a guest."


    "Of course I did," said Arraxia. "Don''t worry, Karasush; she can be trusted."


    "If you believe so, then I will not argue," said Karasush, "Tell me, how goes the search for the Axe of Fortenex?"


    "The Iron Kingdom has thus far failed to find it," said Arraxia. "I was about to start looking for it myself."


    "Taking a direct hand?" asked Karasush. "You are quicker to do that than me. Whatever the case, I did as you asked. You''ll get your chance."


    "Excellent," said Arraxia. "Truthfully, I prefer not to involve myself in direct combat. When one''s pawns fail, one sometimes must assist them."


    "Do you believe you''ll manage it?" asked Karasush.


    "But of course, Karasush," said Arraxia. "I already know exactly how I''m going to get the one responsible."


    "Oh? Do tell?" said Karasush.


    "Not yet," said Arraxia. "I have been very forthcoming with my plans, but I don''t see yours."


    "My plans?" asked Karasush. "I can indulge you.


    "The Axe of Fortenex is by tradition granted to one of equal cunning and power. One who can shed untold blood both with his mind and his body. Thus its full power can only be made manifest over the corpses of whole armies."


    "Nice," said Kiyora, not disguising the sarcasm in her voice.


    "Melchious is and has been worthy of the Axe of Fortenex for years," said Karasush. "However, he is far too bloodthirsty, and I''d rather my nation''s most sacred relic go to someone I can reason with. The problem, my dear, is that you need more time to be ready for it.


    "If you were given the power of the Axe of Fortenex, you would gain great strength. But it would become a crutch, and you would be weaker for it in time. If you lost the axe, you would be lost. However, even though you are still getting ready, you will still be in the future. Should you gain the weapon, you have my permission to keep it safe until such a time as a worthy wielder takes it up. Especially, since the alternative is giving it back to Vanion.


    "Now, what of your plans?"


    "Mine are the hands that will reign over all creation," said Arraxia.


    "You don''t have a plan, do you?" guessed Kiyora.


    "I am improvising you imbecile," said Arraxia.


    "As I suspected," said Karasush. "Whatever the case, the Iron Council wants to meet with you. There should be a guard about to knock on your door... now."


    There was a knock.


    "Delenay!" called a guard. "The Iron Council demands your presence!"


    "Who is this Iron Council?" asked Kiyora.


    "The ruling council of the Iron Kingdom," said Arraxia. "The Iron King gave them full authority to rule the Iron City and the lands around. He is more of a willing figurehead."


    "I''m guessing this is the Iron Continent," said Kiyora. "And this room is the Iron bedroom."


    "Don''t give them ideas," said Arraxia. "Karasush-" But Karasush was gone. Only a few fading snowflakes marked that he had ever been there at all. "I truly loathe that man."


    "He did just give you permission to hold onto his most sacred artifact," noted Kiyora.


    "One does not get credit for giving me my due," said Arraxia. "Let''s go." She led Kiyora out into the drab and lifeless halls. Guards and servants went about their business without expression, and everything was gray. It was strange. Many halls were abandoned entirely.


    "Where is everyone?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Iron Kingdom is dying," said Arraxia. "When one lives in a lifeless place, it is difficult not to die. Unless you are eternal, such as myself." She glanced around. "Oh, and don''t mention Karasush."


    "Whatever," said Kiyora, realizing she had no intention of saying anything. Obeying Arraxia was oddly natural. "So, are you going to kill them or what?"


    "Even if I was, it isn''t courteous to tell someone you are planning to murder them," said Arraxia. "Especially if they already know. There are traditions one must uphold."


    "So do they know?" asked Kiyora.


    "Probably not, no," mused Arraxia. "They''re materialists, you see."


    "What has that got to do with anything?" asked Kiyora.


    "Materialists don''t believe in anything greater than themselves," said Arraxia. "A rather vapid and insufferable perspective, but one with its uses."


    "Doesn''t that describe you?" asked Kiyora. There was a sense of guilt that bubbled up inside her. After all, Arraxia was perfect and flawless, and she should not speak down to her.


    "Yes, but I''m right," said Arraxia. Kiyora reeled beneath the weight of her argument. Truly she was the pinnacle of rationality.


    They came to a more populated floor. And within it, they found a set of double doors flanked by troops. Arraxia approached them. "Ah, here is the door guard."


    They locked their spears in front of them. "Stand where you are, Delenay! You will wait here until you are permitted to enter!" S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I have an appointment," said Arraxia. "I''m being more reasonable just by not dropping in."


    "The Iron Council is meeting with the court sorceress," said the guard. "You will not enter until-" The doors opened.


    Out of them walked a human who looked about twenty with long, strawberry-blonde hair coming down in waves. She wore a long red dress, which was incredibly low-cut. Her bust was gigantic, easily Arraxia''s equal in size, perhaps even larger. It didn''t matter where you looked; it drew the eye. And that wasn''t even going into how the red dress clung to her other curves. Kiyora realized her cheeks were going red, and her mouth was hanging open. She quickly directed her attention to the woman''s face. Her lips and she wore her hair long and wavy.


    "Excuse me." said the woman calmly, nodding to the guards politely. "I''ll have to inform the Iron King of this, of course."


    "Dear sister Rubia, how did things go?" asked Arraxia.


    Rubia looked up in surprise. "Oh, big sister, I didn''t see you there. I was just talking with the Iron Council about our population. Fertility rates are lowering. I''m afraid that if we don''t reduce the aura of the pillars, we''ll see a drop in population soon.


    "The Iron King tasked me with keeping the population high, and they aren''t making it easy. I''d hate to fail him."


    "Well, the Iron King has been ever so outspoken about the evils of divinity," mused Arraxia. "Or at least he was. I''m not sure anyone has seen him outside the palace for over a century. How is he?"


    "He has plans of his own," said Rubia. "But he lets these idiots make all the mistakes they like. They picture themselves as stern and unyielding servants of an imaginary heroic figure. One who never really existed."


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    "Uh, are you sure you should be having this conversation in public?" asked Kiyora.


    "Who''s this? A pet?" asked Rubia, eyeing Kiyora in a fashion that made her uncomfortable.


    "An asset," said Arraxia.


    "An asset indeed," said Rubia, licking her lips.


    "So you''re both demons," said Kiyora. "Why are you working for these people?"


    "How shall I explain this?" asked Arraxia. "The Iron Kingdom employs demons as administrators and leaders. They take all kinds of precautions, of course, but we''re largely given free rein."


    "How are you, her big sister?" asked Kiyora. "You look younger."


    "I can appear any age I wish," said Arraxia. "As can she. She prefers a more mature form." Kiyora realized that there was a certain similarity between Arraxia and Rubia. The structure of their faces was alike. Did that mean that if Arraxia took a form of that age and race, she would look like Rubia?


    "Delenay," said a guard.


    "Yes?" said Arraxia.


    "The Iron Council has been informed of your presence and will see you now," said the guard. "You and your slave will show due respect."


    "But, of course," said Arraxia.


    They walked through the door. Kiyora expected to see a council chamber beyond. Instead, she found they were walking through a tunnel. It had smooth flagstones on the walls and ceiling and was wide and short. Arraxia lashed out with her tail and wrapped it around Kiyora, binding her arms to her as they walked.


    Drawing her up in front, Arraxia smiled. Then she put a hand on Kiyora''s head. "Listen very carefully. The Iron Kingdom dispatched me on a mission to enslave you to my will. You aren''t entirely enslaved to my will right now. If they find that out, they will probably kill us both.


    "And don''t think that being in a dream will save you. They have ways of hurting gods." Kiyora could not help but obey. It was hard to feel indignant at the fact. "When did you end up working for these people anyway?"


    "Oh, there is no time for that now," said Arraxia, setting her down and releasing her. "Come, the Iron Council awaits."


    They emerged into a large open chamber that looked like an arena. Around in the surrounding seats were many black-robed figures. Their faces were hidden, and their black-gloved hands were clasped together.


    "So you have come, Delenay," said a voice from everywhere and nowhere. "What is the progress of the mission?"


    "All things considered, it is going very well indeed," said Arraxia. "I have her right here with me." Her tail grasped Kiyora and drew her forward. Kiyora eyed them in annoyance. Who did these people think they were?


    "Then this is the Dreaming Goddess," said one.


    "We are less than impressed," said another.


    "Her powers are currently lost to her. The pillars have seen to that," said Arraxia. "And her will is mine to command, completely and utterly."


    Kiyora felt a compulsion to speak and did not fight it. There was a better time. "Yes, mistress. I am yours to command."


    "Words are one thing," scoffed a figure. "She may well resist in a moment of crisis."


    "Of course, she will," said Arraxia. "But I will extend my control gradually over time. Little by little, her will be broken to mine. And when it is, I will possess a gateway into her world to end her dominion."


    "And what of the other matter?" asked a figure. "What of Melchious?"


    "He is right," said another. "The anchor''s capability for survival is quite irritating."


    "Spare me," said another. "He is alone in Viokinar with no means of survival save his wits and steel. If the minotaurs do not kill him, he will be devoured by the satyrs."


    "I have some good news," said Arraxia. "He is coming to the Iron Kingdom by the most direct route."


    "I see. Then it is of no concern," said a council member. "He will likely come through the main gate, and we may kill him when he comes out. What I am concerned about is the Einheroth. Our sources on the other side of the mountains tell us that the Einheroth has begun to move. Kidnappings have become increasingly common, and we are already stretched thin.


    "I fear that they will soon strike us. When that happens, we must be ready."


    "Let us send Lord Byran with an army," said a council member. "He may take up residence in the Fort of Steel."


    "Wow, a name that doesn''t have the word Iron in it," said Kiyora. "What a shocker."


    Arraxia slapped her across the back of the head with her tail. "Do be silent. My apologies, gentlemen. She is occasionally impertinent even to me."


    The council glowered. "...Be that as it may, Byran is a formidable dwarf of great power in his own way. He will defeat the Einheroth, I am sure."


    "My a dangerous mission," said Arraxia.


    "Mind your own mission, Delenay," said another.


    "But, of course," said Arraxia.


    "You are dismissed." said one of them.


    Arraxia bowed and then drew Kiyora out of the room and back up the passage. As they walked, Kiyora looked at Arraxia. She raised an eyebrow. "So when are you going to betray this batch of friends?"


    "Really, Kiyora, you wound me," said Arraxia. "What could possibly make you think such utterly dull individuals are my friends?"


    "Well, they seem about as arrogant as you," mused Kiyora.


    "Arrogance is having an exaggerated sense of one''s own self-importance," laughed Arraxia. "Since the whole of reality revolves around me, it is not possible for me to be arrogant. Indeed, my fatal flaw is that I am too humble."


    "Is that sarcasm?" asked Kiyora.


    "My, whatever gave you that impression?" asked Arraxia.


    Was that sarcastic too? Kiyora decided not to ask. "Where to now?"


    "Now, I will be rid of your company for a time," said Arraxia. "I expect the Iron Kingdom will put your talents to work. You ask too many questions, you know."


    They emerged from the tunnel and then heard a call. Kiyora looked up to see a female dwarf running up to them. She had porcelain skin and dark hair on the top of her neck. She wore a curved sword at her side and was waving at Arraxia.


    "Hey! Delenay!"


    "Oh no, not this imbecile," muttered Arraxia. "Oh, hello Raka, how have you been?"


    "Very well," said Raka, seeming very pleased. "My brother gave me a new mission."


    "Oh, and what monumental task has the great Lord Byran bestowed on you?" asked Arraxia.


    "He wants me to organize the militia outside the Iron City. I am to teach them to fight the Einheroth," said Raka. "They are supposed to become an auxiliary force."


    "My, he must have an exceptional amount of faith in you," said Arraxia.


    "I uh... I think he may be doing it to get me out of the way," admitted Raka.


    "Well, that is unfortunate. My sympathies truly," said Arraxia. Never before had she sounded less sincere.


    "Alright, you don''t have to pretend to care if you don''t want to," said Raka. "I figured I''d tell you before I headed out."


    "On the contrary, I do care. Your position is relevant to my goals," said Apraxia. "In any case, Byran''s plan does have merits. The militia has had a rather disgraceful showing thus far. It may be best if you force them into something resembling competent."


    "Right, yeah, I guess. I''ve got to go," said Raka. And she brushed on by.


    "Goodbye." Arraxia waved. "She is beneath me. It is an act of monumental benevolence on my part, even to regard her with a single word."


    "How exactly is she different from William or I?" asked Kiyora.


    "She isn''t," said Arraxia.


    "Oh. Well, I guess I walked right into that one," mused Kiyora. "Still, why does she think you''re her friend? I certainly don''t."


    "Well, she beat me in a fight," said Arraxia.


    "And?" asked Kiyora.


    "And what? That''s it," said Arraxia. "When I came here to defect, I was less advanced in my eternal glory and defeated. I had to talk my way into becoming a double agent."


    "But beating someone in a fight doesn''t make you friends!" said Kiyora. "That makes no sense whatsoever!"


    "When one conquers a country, leaving the existing elites in charge is frequently easier. Better to let them live. That way, they will pay tribute and fight in your wars," said Arraxia. "It saves you the trouble of building it all up from scratch.


    "Which is why they trust me. In their minds, I removed Melchious from their orders. Thus my enslaving you extend their influence. Did you know the Iron King personally ordered your capture? You should feel honored."


    "Whatever," said Kiyora, not exactly caring. "Why do they call you Delenay anyway?"


    "That is another name I go by," said Arraxia. "It means bat in the dwarves'' tongue¡ªor at least the dwarves in this land. At any rate, it is time I got back to work. Feel free to walk the city or whatever mortals do when they aren''t dying or being manipulated by my will."


    "I am a god," deadpanned Kiyora.


    "Not here, you''re not. Oh, and feel free to try and escape," said Arraxia. "But I expect the Iron Council is watching you even now."


    "What does the Iron King want with me?" asked Kiyora.


    "Who knows," mused Arraxia. "I have lost interest."


    And she walked away. Kiyora watched her go for a moment. Then she turned away and kicked the wall. "Jerk."


    Kiyora could not escape the Iron City. She realized that the moment she tried teleporting to the walls, and leaped off. Some force compelled her to remain. She worked in every direction, and when she tried to go too far, she always felt the same compulsion not to. She struggled with it initially but eventually decided to learn more before making a scene. Maybe if she pretended to be submissive, she could turn the tables later.


    So instead, she wandered. And she found the streets were just as cheerless and empty as the building she had left. There were whole blocks where no one lived at all. The only thing to be found was crumbling masonry. Here and there, she found ancient statues of armored figures. Some were dwarves; others were humans. None were very nice, and some were broken into pieces.


    It seemed more like a ruin than a city.


    Then she would turn a corner and come into areas with people. Many people, in fact. Evidently, most of the population was focused on two or three districts. The rest were left abandoned. She came in time to a market where people were buying and selling goods of all kinds. Some were very rich. It was very depressing.


    There were the commoners dressed in pure drab grey. Their eyes were downcast and miserable. Then some looked relatively well of. They were less downcast but no less miserable. Finally, some were very rich and proud. They dressed in white and sometimes even brighter colors. These hid their misery better beneath a proud gaze.


    There was no hope in this place. Kiyora couldn''t feel any. It was like hope just didn''t exist. As she walked, she came to a square. At the very center was a great tree with drooping branches. It was shedding leaves, and its gnarled and twisted wood was flaking bark.


    Kiyora put a hand to it and tried to speak with the spirit within. Yet it was sleeping. It didn''t sleep like the ones in Seathorius. Those were dreaming all the time and could awaken in a moment. Nor was it like the elven realms where the trees were waking, bright and cheerful. Or even in Artarq, where they were sleeping but could be awakened.


    This was a dark slumber. It was one that was forced upon them. Kiyora reached forward and tried to rouse the tree. Yet even as she did so, she felt a presence, or perhaps it was the opposite. A nothingness. The nothingness dragged at her will, and she felt empty. She looked to the source of the nothingness and saw one of the pillars.


    There was one of them at the center of every crossroads. They drained all the life and beauty out of the world. Why would anyone ever set something like that up?


    "Why would anybody want to live here?" she asked.


    "Well, for one thing, it''s a lot better off than the outside," said a familiar voice.


    Kiyora looked up and saw a dwarf woman. She''d seen her before. Hadn''t she talked with Arraxia? She couldn''t remember very well; that pillar had done a number on her. "Hmm, Raka, right?"


    "Yeah," said Raka, "I''m told your will has been broken to the Iron Kingdom."


    She said it so casually, as if it happened every day.


    Kiyora narrowed her eyes. "Well."


    "In any case, I need you to come with me," said Raka. "I don''t know what Arraxia was thinking, sending you off like this. Your influence with trees could be invaluable in our fight against the Einheroth."


    "I kind of figured you''d have sent me after the Axe of Fortenex," said Kiyora, feeling dead.


    "Don''t be an idiot," said Raka. "If we sent you against your former friends, you''d be much more likely to break free."


    That made sense. These people were smart. "Huh, so you do this whole breaking-people-to-your-will thing a lot, do you?"


    "All the time," said Raka. "Sometimes, we pressgang people from inns and taverns and bring them in here. The pillars break everyone who enters this city sooner or later except in the merchant district. That''s the only place there are no pillars. And the only place foreigners are allowed."


    "Right," said Kiyora. "Can I get a message to a friend first?"


    "No," said Raka. "Come on, Rubia will be waiting for us. You''ll like her."


    "I already met her," said Kiyora. "She is... pretty." She couldn''t get worked up at all.


    "She''s a succubus," said Raka. "They are all pretty. They''re also schemers."


    "Why do you employ them, then?" asked Kiyora, curious.


    "We have a pact with Zigildrazia," said Raka. "She allows us to summon her minions. In exchange, we provide her with sacrifices."


    "Sacrifices?" asked Kiyora. "As in sentient sacrifices?"


    "Maidens mostly," said Raka. "The most beautiful ones. Zigildrazia collects beautiful people of all races as pets."


    "So you practice sex slavery then," surmised Kiyora.


    "I," Raka paused, "it isn''t exactly pleasant. But the demons she provides us with are needed. We don''t have divine magic like other nations, and for some reason, we''ve been losing our power over spirits."


    "I can''t imagine why," said Kiyora.


    "Right, well, that is why we need you," admitted Raka. "Our observations indicate that you have a hold over spirits. You could be of great help to us."


    "I don''t command spirits," said Kiyora. "I talk to them and ask them nicely for help."


    "Do you think we haven''t tried that?" asked Raka.


    "Asking while raising pillars like those," said Kiyora, pointing, "is not asking nicely. It''s like putting a sword to someone''s throat."


    "We didn''t always have them emit such a strong aura," said Raka. "But the spirits started to turn against us. Nobody knows why."


    "I think you do know why," said Kiyora. "You just don''t want to admit to it."


    Raka paused. "...We should probably go."


    "Of course," said Kiyora.


    This month just was not going well for Kiyora, was it?

 Chapter 269 - Fifteen: The Withering King

    Some days later, when the weather had cleared up, Behorn led William into the mountains. They journeyed high, slope by slope, bundled up in heavy cloaks. Their only shelter from the wind was the barren trees that covered the mountaintop. As they went higher, the air became thinner, and it was harder to breathe. The winds were howling, and it was bitterly cold, so your breath came from your nostrils like steam.


    William tightened the scarf around his face as he pressed up the mountain. Ahead of him, Behorn was forcing a path through the accumulated snow. The wind was howling. The air was chill, and it was getting harder to breathe. And this was supposed to be good weather?


    "Howling wind is particularly nice today, isn''t it?" asked Behorn. "You need good armor to keep it from cutting down to your bones.


    "But you''re not even shaking. Are you alright?"


    "How close are we?" William asked.


    "Only a little way up now," said Behorn, leaning on her staff. "Come, we''re nearly there."


    They emerged from the trees, and William saw a sheer rock cliff ahead of sorrowful-looking gray stone. It was overhung by vast amounts of snow that had never melted, and it fell over the edge to freeze in great hills. William wondered if archers might be posted on such hills but thought the wind alone would kill them. Yet there was a crack in the mountains. It was about five feet at the widest. Behorn led him to it, and he looked within.


    Muttering the incantations of the sun, he summoned a light. The warmth was pleasant on his palm, but keeping it sustained was tricky in this cold. There wasn''t a lot of sunlight that came down through those clouds above.


    Within, he saw bones. Hundreds of hundreds of bones are arranged into the shape of a path. He stepped back as a foul wind came from within the mountain. It reeked of carrion, and he resisted the urge to gag.


    "Is this the only way?" he asked.


    "Of course it is," said Behorn. "We are approaching the heart of death itself, the Withering King''s domain. None dwell here, save specters and less natural things.


    "Are you sure you want to go through?"


    William dearly wanted to say no. Going back to Easorman and spending a few months telling and listening to stories did not sound so bad. But he screwed himself up. That was different from how one had adventures worth telling about.


    "I''m sure," he said. "Has anyone ever gotten through?"


    "That all depends on what the Withering King thinks of them," said Behorn. "Those who anger him and pass through those doors never return home alive. Those who are respectful and do not tempt him to make it sometimes.


    "I spoke with him once. Me and Balfast were an adventuresome duo. He was quite courteous to us and even let us leave with some gifts¡ªjust a word of advice. Don''t take anything. You may see some amazing treasures, riches beyond imagination. But don''t take anything. He is very particular about the rules of hospitality."


    "Very well," said William. "Thank you for the advice."


    "And whatever you do, you should not disturb the dead any more than possible," said Behorn. "What lies in this place lies here for a reason. Move quickly, and don''t look back. I''d keep those torches I gave you. The sun spirit doesn''t touch everything in this place."


    "Thank you, Behorn," said William. "Your hospitality has been gracious, and your assistance invaluable. I hope that we may meet again in better times."


    "I would like to hear your music again," said Behorn. "I see why the chimera loved it so. Still, you''d best get underway. It is best to enter the Withering King''s domain in daylight. You''ll have better luck that way."


    William nodded. Looking back to the path of bones, he hesitated on the threshold. He fought down his fear and began to walk. Then he turned back. "Goodbye."


    But Behorn was already making her way down the mountain again. William sighed and continued on the path, trying not to step on the bones. "Well, here I am," he said to himself. "Going from danger into danger to find yet more danger. What brought me here? And how in hell''s name am I to get out? Even if I get into the Iron Kingdom, I have no money to speak of. How can I barter passage?


    "I might seek work as a mercenary. However, I don''t know enough about the land. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes, this may take some time."


    On William walked. The smell became worse. The darkness got deeper. The light in his hand began to fade, and he had to focus on making it bright again. Then suddenly, he walked out of the darkness and found himself in a great hall.


    And all around him were treasures. Piles upon piles of gold and jewels were strewn around. It was like a dragon''s hoard in this place.


    Even the den of Massacre he''d seen all those months ago could not compare. With a handful of these coins, he could surely easily pay any travel expenses.


    Then the warning of Behorn came to mind. She knew the road better than he. He forced himself to move on. He crossed the gold-strewn room and went to a door which led into yet more darkness. As he approached it, something emerged.


    It was a figure clad in robes. Or at least William thought that at first. But then he saw that there was nothing beneath the robes. Nothing but a translucent blue fire that emanated cold instead of heat.


    "You are wiser than your appearance dictates, wanderer," said a voice like a cold north wind. "Who are you?"


    "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel," said William.


    "And where have you come from?" asked the spirit.


    "Northwestern Viokinar," said William. "I am going to the Iron Kingdom."


    "Interesting," said the spirit. He remained silent.


    "You have asked me several questions," said William. "I will ask you one in turn. Who are you? Do you serve the Withering King?"


    "Me? No, I''ve been around far longer than that," said the spirit. "The Withering King often changes, you see. I do not."


    "How often?" asked William.


    "Once or twice every few hundred years," admitted the spirit.


    "How many Withering Kings have you seen?" asked William.


    "Oh, I was here for the first," said the spirit. "When the first cursed ring was bestowed, the first warrior struck his bargain. I was here for the first of every race. I watched when these mountains were carved and saw when the gods first came to this realm.


    "I saw the first sunrise as it rose over the first world."


    "You''ve been down here a long time then?" surmised William, only half believing him.


    "Quite," laughed the spirit. "And many other places, for that matter. I know you don''t believe me, but that is of no real concern now. If I were you, I should seek out the Withering King?"


    "And why would you suggest that?" asked William.


    "He knows these mountains well," said the spirit. "He has been here a long time in your years and is approaching when he will pass, and another will take his place. Go to him and ask his leave to go through his domain, and he will set you on the fastest route."


    "Wouldn''t it be possible to get through without?" asked Wiliam.


    "It would," mused the spirit. "But it might offend him. His will is everywhere in these tunnels, and it is far better to have him with you than against you."


    "Can you take me to him?" asked William.


    "Of course," said the spirit. "Follow, and I shall lead."


    The spirit turned and walked into the darkness. Yet this time, William could see him go. Glancing back to get another look at the jewels, William stopped short. There was nothing there. Nothing but piles upon piles of rocks. Fools gold.


    He hurried after the spirit. It led him into a series of chambers. Within them were many beds of stone. On them were stone caskets. "These tombs, do they hold bodies?" asked William.


    "Yes. Yet the bodies in these places often move," said the spirit. "Anger the Withering Lord, and they will arise. It has been the death of many bold and foolish souls. And it has been their doom since."


    "What do you mean ''it has been their doom since?''" asked William.


    "They are still here," said the spirit. "The Withering claimed them."


    William did not know what that meant. But he felt pity for those trapped in this horrible place. "Would it be possible to help them?"


    "A kind question," said the spirit and its voice held a tone of mockery. "However, I do not recommend it. You are not nearly strong enough yet to break the spells on these barrows. And the strain would be your death. Perhaps someday."


    "What is the name of this Withering King?" asked William. He remembered the journey to Gel Carn and passing through Blackfear. Some of his decisions had been rash indeed, and he''d been lucky to get out of them.


    "I could tell you," mused the spirit. "Yet it would matter little. There is very little left of his old self. A shame; he was rather kind to me in his youth."


    "Are we near him?" asked William.


    "Very," said the spirit. "We have only just entered into the City of the Dead."


    "City of the dead?" asked William.


    Then the passages opened up. William found himself in a great cavern, and within it were many stone pillars. There were doorways carved into the rock and windows too. Far above, William could see a distant and pale light shining down from above.


    Yet he could see nothing and no one. "I don''t see anyone."


    "No corpses are allowed here," said the spirit. "Nor will you find any living. There are only the in-between in this place."


    Then William noticed shadows. Living shadows are moving this way and that. His hand fell to his harp. All too well, he remembered clashing with them in Blackfear before and after the Barrow. "Wraiths..."


    "Stay your harp, William," said the spirit, "None will harm you while in my presence."


    There were thousands of them. Maybe tens of thousands. What he had taken to be the shadows of the pillars were not millions of different shadows. They melded and changed before his eyes. The whole of the cavern was alive with them.


    "I''ve never seen this many," said William.


    "You have seen them only once or twice," said the spirit. "You have heard far more than that."


    "You know much," noted William.


    "I know everything," said the spirit.


    William felt as though he should believe it. However, he''d had experience with mind control, so he decided to test it. "I am thinking of a number between five and five hundred-" he said.


    "Three hundred and sixty-seven," said the spirit.


    "I''m thinking of a number between five and a thousand," said William.


    "Six hundred and seventy-seven," said the spirit. "Stop testing it."


    William had an idea. He''d state parameters without thinking of a number at all. "Three and-"


    "You are attempting to trap me," said the spirit. "You are wasting your time. What you see here doesn''t exactly exist on the same scale as you. It is an avatar of my true self."


    "Like a greater demon or a god," guessed William.


    "Yes, precisely," said the spirit.


    "Who are you?" asked William.


    "Some call me Lucius," said the spirit.


    They passed into a hall. And here, there were many empty suits of armor. Yet they seemed to be breathing freezing air. And where the eyes of the wearer would be, there were two freezing flames. They wielded halberds and axes and swords and every other kind of armor. At the far end of the hall, there was a throne. And upon that throne lounged another suit of armor.


    This one was a giant. It was larger than any humanoid creature he had faced before. And it held in one spiked gauntlet a massive blade longer than William was tall. One of its iron boots could have crushed a grown man flat. And the helmet radiated bright red light. And on his right hand was a steel ring, gleaming slightly.


    "So here you are, spirit," boomed the voice. "What have you brought this time, old man?"


    "A paladin known as William Gabriel, Withering King," said Lucius. "He seeks passage through your lands."


    "Does he now?" said the Withering King in a jovial tone. "Well, have him come forth; I''ll look at him." William stepped forward, trying to control his fear. The suit of armor raised one hand to the cup where its chin might have been. "Hmm, he is younger than most who dare venture into my realm. Perhaps I should slay him; he may make an excellent subject."


    "You would not find me easy prey," said William, resisting the urge to shrink in fear.


    "No?" asked Withering King. "Perhaps not." There was a familiarity in his gaze. "Now I know you. I''ve seen you through the eyes of my successor. Perhaps I should test you." And he arose from his throne, shaking off the dust as he brandished his massive sword.


    William tried to back away. Yet the smaller suits of armor blocked off all escape. He drew his sword and held his ground.


    "Withering King, is this truly necessary?" asked Lucius with a sigh.


    "Of course. I have had no battle for nearly a year," said the Withering King. "And I wish to test how formidable this one is-"


    William charged. He ducked under the blade of the Withering King and drove his sword toward the boot. Yet the Withering King leaped away, quick as lightning. He spun his blade around in a counterattack that nearly left William without a head.


    His enemy laughed. "Attacking while I speak? Clever."


    He brought down his sword, and William rolled away. Yet even as William rose, the Withering King had drawn back his blade and swung again. He fought with casual grace, wielding his massive blade with ease. William could hardly survive, let alone counterattack. Nor could he block the strikes with his own weapon or his shield.


    The King stepped back and planted his sword into the ground before him. William collapsed to one knee, panting and out of breath. A dark chuckle came from the suit. "The boy fights well. Still, let us see the strength of his will," He raised the blade and pointed it at William. "Die."


    The word so casually spoken was a command. William shuddered as he found himself bringing up his sword. He must die. He must fall upon his blade as he had been commanded. No, no, this was a spell. He forced his hands away and pushed himself back into a stance. Or tried to. The command was hard, and it was all he could do not to obey it.


    "Hmm, you are putting up far more resistance to my command than I expected," mused the Withering King. "You are strong. But are you strong enough to defy it?"


    William mastered himself and threw the sword away. The Withering King drew back his will and laughed. "Very good. Well, you''ve impressed me. I should love to have one of your skills among my warriors. Yet I suspect you are only beginning to tap into your true potential. Undeath tends to... stagnate the soul."


    William picked up his sword. "You were trying to kill me a moment ago."


    "I was," said the Withering King, "And had you disappointed me, your head with be at your feet, and your soul would be mine."


    "I am Elranor''s and no other," said William.


    "True," admitted the Withering King. "I suspect he might negotiate for your release. But that would provide me with benefits as well. I like you, William Gabriel. Thus I shall grant you leave to go to the Iron Kingdom with a condition."


    "What condition?" asked William.


    "You will have three days to leave my domain." said the Withering King. "If you are not out of it by then, I shall unleash my subjects. They will chase you down, slay you, and drag your corpse back to become one of my trophies."


    "Very generous of you," said William. "Is there anything else?"


    He felt that the Withering King was giving him a fatherly smile. "It''s a four-day journey from here to the other side."


    Typical really.

 Chapter 270 - Sixteen: Land of Goblins

    William was dismissed and led away into a side passage by Lucius. The spirit halted here and looked at him through the cowl it wore. The spirit looked apologetic somehow, despite not having facial expressions. "I would go with you to the other side, but I fear I have other matters to attend to, far from here."


    "Do you have any advice?" asked William.


    "Advice? Well, if I were you, I should not exhaust myself running," said Lucius. "You''ll run yourself ragged, and you''ll have to confront someone at some point.


    "As for the path you ought to take, I should take that one." And he motioned to a dark passage leading downward. It smelled of carrion.


    William looked to another from which he could smell clean air. Then he looked to Lucius. "Why not the other? The air isn''t as bad from there."


    "That way leads out faster," conceded Lucius. "But it also doesn''t have many offshoots, so your hunters will know where to find you. Einheroth, don''t tire while you do. You''ll be overtaken for sure unless you can run faster than anyone else in such armor. Even if you do get out, you''ll end up in the mountains above the Iron Kingdom.


    "That is giant country. They''d love nothing more than to devour you. And some of them are smart enough to hang out by the exits.


    "The road I have suggested is longer, but there are beings along it who may help you. Or, at the very least, may not at once try to eat you. It will also lead you out into the heartlands of the Iron Kingdom. Those are safe. Or as safe as anywhere can be. All the less violent races are being killed or fleeing to the shore."


    "I understand," said William. "Goodbye. And thank you for your help."


    "It is no trouble," said Lucius.


    William walked on by.


    "Oh, and William," said Lucius suddenly. "Keep your helmet on."


    William turned back. "Why?" But Lucius was gone. "Anything else I should know that you won''t explain?"


    There was no answer.


    He sighed and began his journey into the passage that smelled of carrion. Sure enough, he soon found himself walking upon bones. Yet these bones were fresh. Sometimes he even saw an occasional fresh corpse. The stench was horrific.


    He pulled his scarf over his nose and walked as quickly as he could manage. He tried to keep his eyes away from them. He''d seen death before in the wars. But nothing like these fly-ridden bodies which became more and more common. Soon whole piles were lying around before feasted on by rats.


    He tried not to throw up. He had no time.


    Time? What did it matter how much time he had? The Withering King had only been toying with him before. He was likely only toying with William now. No doubt, the Einheroth were waiting at the entrance to catch him unawares.


    It was all futile.


    His footsteps slowed. What did it matter how fast or how slow he walked? He would die here beneath the mountains. Nobody would ever find out where he had gone. What madness had possessed him to enter these cursed mountains in the first place?


    William nearly turned around and went back. He had to flee. Going back the way he had come would be the last thing anybody would expect. No, no, that was madness! There was nothing to do but die!


    No, not die. Nothing to do but press on. He knew he was being influenced by magic to give up. But he would not let it control him. He put one foot in front of the other with difficulty. Then he did the same. Again and again.


    Every step was a strain. He could hardly continue.


    But he would not give up. He had to get out of here. Nothing would stand in his way.


    The spell was broken.


    It was like the chains that had been binding him were shattered. Or if a gate that had stood locked and forlorn was suddenly broken in. He was free and could go where he willed.


    On his path led him, and he felt a bit better for a while. He saw passages leading to the right and the left. But he did not like the looks of them. So he kept straight, not liking the idea of getting lost in a maze.


    Then he came to more suits of armor. Yet these were chained to the wall and lifeless.


    "Help..." said a low whisper.


    William paused. "Who is there?"


    "Help... us..." gasped the same voice.


    William went through the armor and finally came to one at the center. A spirit inhabited it. No, many spirits. He could sense their energies within.


    "Who are you?" he asked.


    "We are... the spirits of the dead..." said the voice. "The damned... those who wandered within..." The voice changed to become lower and harsher. "We are... fools who made a deal with the Withering. In hubris, we thought we would become the Withering King. But all... all failed..." The voice became high-pitched and screeching. "Now we are Einheroth... puppets of steel and soul... Our spirits are spread throughout this armor. We kill for him and fall in battle. Then we are revived and sent to kill again...


    "Help... us..."


    "How could I help you?" asked William, feeling a surge of pity.


    "Break... my chains..." said the Einheroth.


    "Will the Withering King know if I do this?" asked William.


    "He... will... not..." gasped the Einheroth.


    William narrowed his eyes. "You''re lying, aren''t you?"


    "Help us... In dark, we have been... for so long..." gasped the creature "In dark we will be... until freed... Please..."


    "If I help you, the Withering King will send his minions after me sooner rather than later," said William. "I... I can''t help you. I do not want to become like you."


    "Please..." gasped the creature.


    William turned to walk away, but he stopped. He thought about being trapped here in the darkness for all eternity, with nothing but bones and rotting flesh. He thought about being chained, bound to the will of dark powers beyond all hope of salvation.


    It was horrible.


    Could he really leave them here? No, no, he could not, not in good conscience.


    "I can''t do anything," he said to himself. "I''m under the hospitality of the Withering King. A guest who frees his host''s prisoners and sets them loose around the house was no guest at all."


    "What are you babbling about, William Gabriel?" said a different part of him, the part always trying to be a hero. "You aren''t any more a guest here than a hunted deer is the guest of the wolves. Or a mouse with a cat who has decided to play with its food. You''ve no obligation to abide by this monster''s rules.


    "And you do have an obligation to help the less fortunate. That''s part of what being a paladin is."


    "Easy to say," he shot back. "But there was no certainty I could even break the chains. And whether I succeed or fail, the Withering King would surely know."


    "And why should it matter if you might fail?" replied his sense of heroism. "You think you''re the only person who''s faced bad odds in our history? Anoa the Bright faced bad odds his whole life. But he never let that stop him from doing what needed to be done.


    "What about Erik the Voyager? He stood alone against an army of giants to protect the eggs of a dragon he''d never met. But he didn''t give way.


    "If you were an ordinary person, you could ignore these poor creatures. But you aren''t. You''re a paladin. And part of being a paladin is doing the right thing even when it may get you killed or worse."


    "Besides, we don''t know these tunnels," said a third, pragmatic part. "This creature might. Perhaps it knows a faster way Lucius didn''t tell us about."


    That settled it. William turned back to the creature. "You know these tunnels, do you not?"


    "I... do..." gasped the Einheroth.


    "You know all the secret ways," said William.


    "I... do..." said the Einheroth.


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    "I will free you," said William. "But in exchange, you must lead me out of here."


    "We... will..." gasped the Einheroth. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Very well," said William, drawing out his sword. "I will break the chains."


    He struck the chains once, and sparks flew. They rattled but did not break. He summoned the power of Elranor and struck again, and this time notched them. Yet a force hit him so hard that he nearly fell from his feet. His head hurt, and his hands were aching.


    Raising his sword one final time, he struck. The chains broke.


    "Release!" screamed the Einheroth as he stepped out. "I am free! I can walk in my own power at last!"


    There was a low laugh. "You disappoint me, Gabriel, though I suspected this would be your mind," said the Withering King. William looked around in fear but saw nothing, though his voice was everywhere. "No matter; I don''t mind starting the chase a bit early."


    William felt a twinge of fear. "Lead me out. Now!"


    "Follow me quickly," said the Einheroth.


    The creature led William into a passage, and they ran for a time William could not recall. His guide led them on a zigzagging, erratic path. It led further and further downwards. The smell of carrion faded to be replaced by a dank smell of water. He could hear the drip of water somewhere in the caves.


    Yes, caves. The tunnels had gone from mortal made to natural. And still, the Einheroth led William on. He ran until his legs were aching, and he could hardly keep up. Finally, the creature slowed, and he approached from behind.


    "Where are we going?" gasped William. "Why are we going down?"


    "The Einheroth will overtake us if we take the main way," said the Einheroth. "We must go by a winding path. This way is home to the goblins. The Withering King will not follow us at once."


    "Goblins?" asked William. "I thought Anoa the Bright wiped them out long ago."


    "He tried," said the Einheroth.


    "You seem different from before," noted William.


    "Our spirit was being subverted to the will of the Withering King," said the Einheroth. "Now, once more, our will is our own."


    "Well, that is good to know," said William. "Can we rest for a time?"


    "Yes, we remember now," murmured the Einheroth. "Mortals get tired. Their feet falter. We shall have to remember that." Then suddenly, the Einheroth broke into a sprint.


    "Wait!" called William, running and trying to keep up. "Come back!"


    "We will not be captured again by waiting for you," hissed the Einheroth''s voice as it passed from sight.


    "Bastard. I can''t keep up with him," hissed William to himself.


    "Well, this is a fine mess you''ve gotten us into," snapped his self-preservation. "Now the hunt is on, and we''re no better off than before. Much worse because we''re off the path and trapped."


    "We are a paladin," replied his sense of heroism. "We are supposed to help people whether there is a benefit or not."


    "Both of you be silent," said William, speaking the part of his pragmatism. "They might decide to follow him over me. We''ll take a branching path and hope to split them up." He looked at the available paths and took the one which led downwards. As he did, he cursed himself and sheathed his sword. "Damn it all, I''m lost again. Still, there is nothing to do but try my best."


    Then he heard footfalls. Heavy iron booted feet were slamming against the stone further up. A chant of war could be heard. And a terrible presence was coming toward him. William ran and ran, but it continued to get closer.


    He would surely be caught unless he could find a way to slip out of sight.


    Suddenly the left side of the passage fell away into a dark cliff. It was wet and slick. But it might be his only chance. William began to scale down it as quickly as he could. He nearly slipped on the rocks but managed to make it far enough down so that no one could see him, only if they were looking right at him anyway.


    Unfortunately, clad in armor as he was, he could scarcely keep his grip. All he could do was stop from plunging into the abyss below. "Damn this armor," he hissed. "And damn that Einheroth. And damn me."


    "He should be just ahead!" cried a voice like a cyclone. "Press on! We''ll kill him yet!"


    William clung to the rock as he heard many footfalls. They tramped past his hiding space. Above, he could see an Einheroth standing just above him. If it looked down, then he would be spotted for sure. The creature shifted, looked around, and then passed over him.


    William breathed in relief when they were gone. "That is the last time I make a deal with unholy powers. You''d think I''d have learned by now. Then again, Father came out of his contract very well, indeed. Though he more or less did so by breaking it off and following his conscience. Which I did.


    "Does that help or hurt my case?


    "Damn it. What now? They are gone, but there will probably be more. I don''t want to get caught between the two of them. I suppose I ought to climb down and see if I can find any way out through there. Either way, I''ve got no idea where I am."


    He began scaling down with pained limbs. He got about ten feet down. Then he slipped and fell backward into the dark. He snatched a handhold and managed to take hold of the wall. It wrenched his arm, and he slid downwards before hitting the floor hard and rolling downward.


    He felt a cracking noise on his wrist, and it was all he could do not to scream. Bringing up the twisted limb, he channeled the power of Elranor. It mended, little by little, but something seemed to be sapping his strength. Finally, it was healed.


    He stood, feeling tender still, unslung his shield, and looked around. He was in a very dark place, and his light hardly reached for than a few feet. Something was dimming it as well. Then he realized he''d never doused his light when the Einheroth had come.


    How had they not seen him?


    Then again, they didn''t have eyes. Perhaps they tracked things through other means. With a sigh, he walked forward into the darkness. Soon he found tiny stones that emitted small beads of light on either side of him. He doused his light thoroughly this time. He didn''t want to be seen first.


    William traveled by these lights until he came to the edge of a curved stair. And far below him, he could see a vast natural cavern. It was like something one might see on the surface, yet different. There were fields of crops, but they were of red moss and mushrooms instead of wheat. They were being tended to by small, thin-limbed froglike creatures. They had huge eyes and sharp teeth. Watching over there, farmers were ones with spears.


    And further on, he could see something like a smithy. The creatures there were forging weapons and armor. Their design was very similar to that of the armor the Einheroth wore.


    William remembered every tale and poem he could about ancient races. Then remembered what Lucius had said. These were goblins and thousands of them.


    How many more thousands were in these vast mountains? Waiting to swarm out and kill without pity or mercy. He had to stay out of sight. And that meant getting off this cliff.


    He scaled down the stair as quickly as he is good. He found it unguarded and wondered why. He guessed, as well as he could, that these creatures served the Withering King. If that was the case, they probably did not fear any attack from this direction at all.


    How many could have even gotten this far without an Einherorth to guide them?


    William reached the bottom of the stair and spotted some rocks. He could find cover there. He quickly scaled up among them and realized they had overlooked a mining operation. He had missed it before.


    "Alright," he said to himself, "alright, William, so you don''t know this place, and your guide has abandoned you. If you''re going to get out of here, you''ll need a new one. I could probably grab a goblin by force and make it serve me by the threat of death."


    "Very heroic," said his heroism.


    "We''ve had enough problems from you already," replied William.


    "But we''ll need a goblin who knows their way around," noted his pragmatic half. "Not all of them will know the way to the surface if any of them do. And in any case, we can''t speak goblin."


    "We can''t afford to be picky," noted William. "Every moment we wait makes us more likely to be caught." He eyed a passage where he noted some goblins walking inward in a large group. It was cobbled, like a road. It didn''t look guarded.


    "We might go there," noted his heroism. "Roads generally lead someone. And the goblins might have settlements outside of the mountains.


    "We wouldn''t have to threaten anyone with death."


    "And if they don''t," mused his pragmatism, "we could go back to the first plan and waylay one of the travelers."


    It seemed the best plan William had so far. And he put his hand to his sword. He was about to make a break for it when the ground shook. The wall the goblins were chipping away at suddenly fell down with a crash. They turned and fled, screeching, and the rubble caught several.


    To his surprise, goblins came from all over to see what it was about. Within a few moments, they began cooperating to move the rubble. They were trying to save anyone they could. Those that they freed were taken aside and tended to by healers. This needed to be clarified for William. The accounts by Anoa the Bright said the race was evil and killed each other for fun and to eat the corpses. Perhaps this was a different kind of goblin. It had been a long time.


    At that moment, there was a cry. "Einheroth! Einheroth!"


    William looked up to see a goblin pointing at him. The thing had snuck up behind. Now he was exposed, and hundreds of creatures were coming from all over to surround him. They chattered and chattered in their tongue.


    Why did they think he was an Einheroth?


    Then William realized that his scarf was still covering his mouth. That, combined with his armor, made him look very much like one of the suits of armor. Gradually as he listened, he found that he could discern their speech.


    "No, no, it has eyes like a human!" one was saying.


    "Humans do not wear armor like that. Withering Lord not allow it," said another.


    Why did he understand them? He had never learned goblin, to be sure. He spoke. "I mean, you and your people no harm."


    Some scurried away at the sound of his voice. It was very menacing.


    "Kill it, Mazabel," said the first one he''d heard. "Kill it dead! It will bring ruin and destruction!"


    William thought quickly. "I am here to aid you. I will heal your wounded."


    "Heal?" asked the first one. "Einheroth not heal."


    "I do," said William, "Watch."


    But as he turned to the wounded, a crowd of goblins barred his path. He couldn''t get close enough to touch them. They would kill him for sure. He could do it from a distance. Raising a hand, he sent forth his will to the goblins. It hurt a lot. Many of their wounds were, and his grip was loose. It was all he could do to keep fixing the flesh and bone.


    Sweat dripped from his brow. His hand was shaking. William knew he couldn''t keep this up. "Look!" cried a goblin. "Marzel walks away."


    Sure enough, a short goblin with bigger eyes than most had stood up and was walking. Others soon followed.


    "The others are walking! They all salvaged!" cried a goblin. "The Einheroth heal them! Withering Lord send blessings!"


    Something occurred to William. If the Withering Lord finds out I helped them; they may be punished. It would be best if he left quickly.. "I would speak with your leader," he said."A big goblin with a staff topped with a goblin skull came forward. "I Mazabel. I lead the goblins."


    "Mazabel, the Withering Lord wishes to test your knowledge," said William.


    "Test? How does he wish to test?" asked Mazabel, eyes narrowed.


    "He desires that you show me the fastest and most secretive way into the Iron Kingdom," said William, feeling bad for lying. "Bring me your best scout and have him show me the way."


    "Marzel is best scout," said Mazabel. "But why are you going to Iron Kingdom? Is time of vengeance at hand?"


    "The Withering Lord''s plan must remain secret," said William. "The time of vengeance will come when it will come."


    "You liar!" said a goblin. "Withering Lord always tell plan before he give order!"


    "Wonderful," thought William. "I''ve done something which seems out of character. They seemed awed by my using magic. Let''s see what we can do with that."


    "You dare?!" snarled William in a fury. "I am Einheroth!" He drew his sword and muttered incantations. The blade burst into bright light, though it took a lot more energy than normal. The goblins reeled back in horror. William dimmed the light. "Do not mistake me. The Withering Lord desires that you play your part. However, if you knew his true design in this matter, you would act contrary to what he desires of you. Now, bring forth Marzel."


    Marzel came forward. "I Marzel. I take you by all the secret ways."


    "Excellent," said William.


    Now to get out of here.

 Chapter 271 - Seventeen: Battle on the Road

    William and Marzel left with great fanfare into aside tunnel he hadn''t seen before. From what he gathered, the road he''d planned to take only led deeper into the mountains. There were vast cities of goblins there. He''d have been lost and died for sure.


    Privately he thanked Elranor for the landslide. Or whatever god may have been looking out for him. Then again, if the landslide hadn''t happened, many goblins would still be alive. But then he wouldn''t have seen that they weren''t pure evil. And who knew how that revelation might affect things?


    He was suddenly curious about the goblins. He looked to his guide as they walked. Marzel didn''t move very quickly; his legs were short. So William had to check his pace to keep from walking past him.


    "Marzel, I would test your knowledge of your people," said William.


    "What is it, great one?" asked Marzel.


    "To what purpose does the Withering King put the weapons you forge in his name?" asked William. He already suspected the answer, though.


    "We make as vessels by which the Einheroth are born into," said Marzel. "The souls trapped in Withering are set into them. Forged into warriors of spirit and sword! Kill humans and protect us! Why you have face?"


    "Hmm?" said William.


    "Why you have face beneath mask?" asked Marzel again.


    His scarf had fallen away. He thought of a way to answer without directly lying. "I was allowed to keep my mortal body until such a time as it grows old and dies."


    "You be favored," guessed Marzel.


    "Indeed," said William. "That is why this task was appointed to me. Another question, where do your people come from? How did they come to dwell in this place?"


    "Once, long time ago, goblins dwell on land to far south," said Marzel. "We as many as stars and have big, big armies. Elves leave us alone; they not want underground, and dwarves too few to stop us. Then big bad human, Anoa Butcher, kill all elves. He help dwarves drive us out.


    "He be killing us for years and years, and nothing could stop. But big chief Grakak get together tribe on ships he steal and sail north. There he meet Withering King and pledge to service."


    "The original Withering King?" guessed William.


    Marzel shook his head. "There only one Withering King. He change armor. You must be new Einheroth."


    "I am new," admitted William.


    "Armor just outward shell," said Marzel. "What inside is what counts. He put goblins to work, tunneling and making fortresses for him under cold earth. He make big bad Einheroth to kill enemies and trap souls of warriors to fuel them."


    "I see," said William.


    The account, for what it was, was consistent with what he had heard from his histories. But Anoa the Bright had done so because the goblins were utterly evil and without hope of redemption. They had been a plague threatening to wipe out the dwarves under King Redder. Or so the legends had said.


    "How did the Iron Kingdom come to be?" asked William suddenly.


    "They lured here by Withering King," said Marzel. "Mortal followers who served his armor. They found great Kingdom, but Iron King come and raise a rebellion. Einheroth driven into mountains."


    "Who is this Iron King?" asked William.


    "Old god. Very old," said Marzel. "Very mysterious. No one knows who is. If we know, Withering King kill."


    "Tell me, if you were to try and infiltrate the Iron Kingdom, how would you do it?" asked William. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Me dig big tunnel under Iron City," said Marzel. "Then break supports. Whole city come crashing down!"


    "And why haven''t you done this yet?" asked Willliam.


    "Mazabel say it too far to dig," said Marzel. "Also, say Iron Kingdom sense us and kill. Withering King say he want us secret."


    "Of course," said William. "You remember well."


    The conversation reminded him of a different problem that just occurred to him. Even if William got to the Iron Kingdom his armor might get him mistaken as an Einheroth. He certainly wasn''t going to get rid of it, of course. This had been a gift from Rusara. But once he got out into the open, he''d take his helmet off. That, at least, would make it clear he wasn''t a monster.


    "How far is it now?" he asked.


    "Not far. Not far," said Marzel. "This secret way we make only recently. Come out right near Iron Kingdom''s main road. We use to go in and out in secret." He drew out a veil and covered his eyes.


    "Why the veil?" asked William.


    "Sun hurts eyes," said Marzel. "We no like going out for long."


    "Why do you go out in the first place?" asked William.


    "We scout for Withering King," said Marzel. "Bring back news of targets."


    "Targets?" inquired William.


    "Yes. Farmhouses far from help," said Marzel, licking his lips. "Sometimes we steal cradles and bring babies back. Souls easy to mold into Einheroth since they have no will. We also bring back corpses to decorate halls."


    William suddenly wanted more than anything to cave Marzel''s skull in. However, that would be wrong. Whether it had known him for who he was, it had helped him and done him no direct harm. Still, he felt far less guilty about the possibility of the Withering King punishing them now.


    He asked no more questions. He had the feeling he wouldn''t like the answers. They came out suddenly into a dark and colorless forest. No, not colorless. It was more like the cheer had been drained out of it. The tree trunks were miserable brown. The leaves were a sullen green.


    It was the most bitter sight William had seen yet, somehow. And yet everything around him was perfectly healthy. It was like the soul of the land was dying. He looked to Marzel. "I thank you for bringing me this far. You have done well. Very well indeed. Where is the road?"


    Marzel pointed. "That way. It lead to main road. But Iron Soldiers keep eye on. You no want to go that way."


    William sighed. "Farewell."


    And he walked into the forest toward the road.


    William would have gone through the wilderness, but he had no knowledge of this land. He would likely get lost and starve. Or be hunted down by wild beasts. Neither was attractive. Every few miles, he saw great black pillars rising from the roadside. They seemed the center of the sickness he''d seen on entering. It was like they sucked all the beauty out of the world. Then he heard the sound of combat.


    Rushing toward it, he came to the edge of a clearing and saw a full-scale battle going on. Many gray-armored dwarves and humans were laying about them with swords and axes. The Einheroth were on the other side, and both were tearing each other apart. The leader of the dwarves and humans slew two Einheroth with strokes of his sword. Bringing the blade around, he ran through another.


    Yet there was something wrong with all this.


    The being of flesh and blood were silent. There were no war cries. No commands. No screams of agony when struck by weapons. They fell backward and said nothing as they were dragged away by comrades or slain.


    Yet the undead, lifeless and unholy, roared and screamed a great deal. It was disturbing to William that the dead had more emotion than the living. He wondered if he should take a side. Even so, he realized his looks were against him. He might lose his head and never be known as human. So he watched as the combat continued. At last, the Einheroth drew back, leaving many broken and ruined suits of armor behind. Among them were many corpses as well.


    The leader watched them go.


    "Byran are we sure we may defeat the Einheroth," asked a soldier.


    "We are not," said Byran. "However, we must at the least delay them. If we may hold the Einheroth in place long enough for Raka to rally her forces, we may gain victory. But it will be by a slight margin."


    "Do you really think that even a trained militia will be of any use," asked the soldier.


    "The Iron City has long protected those outside its walls," said Byran. "But our ranks have thinned while the undead has gained in power. With our weaknesses, people are beginning to waver. We had to crush several cults this year alone.


    "The people must learn that the strength of mortals is greater when not using gods as a crutch. Thus Raka must succeed. If she does not, I fear for the Iron Kingdom."


    Then there was a long, mournful cry. It resounded through the hills. Willaim felt a shiver run down his spine.


    "That voice... what is that?" asked a soldier.


    "It is the call of the Withering King," said Byran. "The Einheroth are pouring forth in their full might now. Draw back to the Fort of Steel. So long as we hold that the Withering King cannot advance."


    The side of the hill opened like a maw, and the dwarves and humans streamed into it. Byran was the last into it, waiting until the wounded had been carried in. He stayed long enough for Einheroth to pour out of the trees in far greater numbers. The grass beneath their feet withered and died. William realized he could easily be caught if he wasn''t careful. So he ran for it.


    Inwardly he prayed this Byran would halt the advance of the Einheroth. Then again, it would be a simple matter for all he knew. He did not know the defenses of this Fort of Steel or the Einheroth''s plans for piercing it. Nor even the numbers on both sides.


    No one pursued him. It seemed he had gone unnoticed. Yet soon, he could hear the unholy shrieking of the Einheroth. Smoke began to rise, and great clouds of dirt were thrown into the air. The shadow cast by the mountains seemed to lengthen into a claw. The world around them became ever more miserable.


    And yet William almost preferred it. It was a different kind of misery. The kind where one still feels life within them. One was motivated to grow stronger and become better. The further he got from the mountains, the less life he felt. Soon he had to stop as he came out onto a road. He followed it, preferring speed to concealment.


    As he walked, he saw those pillars again. There was one every mile now. It hurt just to look at them, and above clouds gathered gray. But everything seemed gray in this land. Every step hard than the last. William tried to call on the power of Elranor to give him strength. Yet it was drained away as soon as he did so. He could not wield it here.


    This was bad.


    And then he saw the shadow of one of the images on the pillars take shape into the form of a girl his age. He sighed. "Oh no, not you again."


    "You wound me, dear William," said Arraxia. "After all, it has been ever so long since we enjoyed each other''s company."


    "It has not been long enough," said William. "What do you want?"


    "Oh, nothing in particular," said Arraxia. "I was wondering where you were going."


    "I am going to the Iron Kingdom, and from there, I am going home," snapped William. "Don''t get in my way. I''m not in the mood for your particular brand of nonsense, and I just might put my sword through you. Again."


    "My, overconfident, aren''t we?" mused Arraxia. "After all your powers aren''t working right now, are they?"


    "They aren''t. But you already knew that," said William. "So the question remains; what do you want?"


    "Well, I was thinking," mused Arraxia. "We''ve been running into each other repeatedly and have cooperated quite well together..."


    "You''ve tried to kill me twice," said William. "Wait, no. Let me think. There was the attack on Hrungeld''s ship. My capture on the shores of Seathorius. Attempting to get me to sell my soul. Then there was that ambush Massacre rescued me from. You used me as an unwitting pawn to defeat Melchious, then tried to drive me to suicide. Then there was your attempt to murder me directly.


    "Oh, then you tried to cut my head off with the Axe of Fortenex.


    "I think that counts at least as four times. However, your intentions may have been my capture. Still, I have no doubt I''d have ended up dead or worse when your plans finished."


    "Yes, it has been a healthy relationship," said Arraxia. "Better still, you''ve survived. I''m moderately impressed. On a separate note, I was thinking about how you were born from Melchious'' being. Then I had a sublime thought; With that connection, you might learn to use hell''s power yourself."


    "I was indeed born of Melchious'' will," said William. "But my service belongs to Elranor alone. One who is greater than you by far."


    "Oh, what an adorable speech," she said. "Did you rehearse it? Or just copy it from a religious text?"He had.


    "Just be silent," said William.


    He walked past her. Her shadow moved to the next pillar as she walked. "At any rate. You are alone and surrounded by enemies. Elranor has been shut out from your heart by those pillars. But the demonic power within you might not be shut out. These dreary stones cannot keep out a power already within you. And you show much promise.


    "I thought I might give you the chance to join me."


    "Join you?" asked William. "I believe I already gave you my answer before."


    "No, no, that was a contract," said Arraxia. "Something designed to snare a fool which you clearly aren''t. No, I''m offering you a partnership, William."


    "Partnership?" asked William, smiling despite himself.


    "Yes. I can teach you many things," said Arraxia. "Many powers that Elranor could not."


    "And I imagine as soon as I learned them, I''d lose all my paladin powers," said William.


    "Would you?" asked Arraxia. "Elranor may not even be privy to this conversation with all these old stones about. And even if he is, we are practically partners already."


    "No, we aren''t," laughed William.


    "Isn''t Duke Vanion making many arrangements with me?" asked Arraxia. "And Kiyora and I have made several alliances as it is. Elranor has raised no objection to them. Why should he, if you try to claim, what is your birthright?"


    "And I suppose if I refuse, you''ll try to kill me again," said William, rolling his eyes.


    "Oh, me?" she asked. "Of course not. I''ll leave that to the Iron Kingdom. That armor is very memorable, and you have a very distinctive face. On the other hand, if you agree to help me, I will help you, and you can not only get home but return home a conqueror."


    William realized that even if he wasn''t going to cooperate, it wouldn''t help to have her trying to end him. He decided he''d pretend to agree so she would go away. "...I am willing to cooperate with you to get out of here. However, I reserve the right to break our alliance at any time. I will not burn villages; I will not take any action which violates my moral code."


    "Oh? So you aren''t interested in learning to control the power within you?" asked Arraxia.


    "No," said William. "It would only corrupt me."


    "Disappointing," said Arraxia. The shadow tensed as though sensing something. "Ah well, it isn''t as if I object to putting less effort into my side of the deal. Still, if you are going to prove yourself worthy of my time, you''ll have to pass a particular test. It is nothing to be concerned about, a small matter..."


    At that moment, the Vulture of Melchious descended and landed. In his hand was a flaming spear which he hurled. William blocked it on his shield and was nearly thrown from his feet beneath the weight of the strike. The heat from the strike burned him, and he hacked the spear away.


    The demon landed, and in his hands were clutched lances of flame. His wings were outstretched, and his eyes were flaming red. His beak opened to let out a war cry before taking a stance. "You shall never leave this land alive."


    "Would you be a dear and kill him?" asked Arraxia.


    This was ridiculous.


    More than that, it was dangerous. He had no access to healing magic. Even if he gained victory here, he could be wounded. It would be best to avoid a fight. He didn''t believe for a second that Arraxia had actually summoned the Vulture here.


    "I would love nothing more than to spill your blood across these flagstones," said William. "However, it is in neither of our interests to do battle."


    This response surprised the Vulture. "Why not?"


    "Because we''re in the middle of a highway," said William. "At any moment, reinforcements from the Iron Kingdom could be coming down this way. Or an army of victorious Einheroth. We''d both be killed then."


    "Fool," said the Vulture. "I am an avatar of Melchious. When slain, he may return me to life with only a portion of his power."


    "But will he?" asked William. "Think of that."


    "My will is his," replied the Vulture. "I am an extension. As your arm is an extension of you." He drew back his flame javelin. "On this road, I shall spill your lifeblood!"


    And he hurled a volley of spears. William blocked one and dodged the others, trying to ignore the heat. He drew his sword and charged, but the Vulture surged upwards and hurled more spears. William was slow to dodge, and one of the spears glanced at the side of his helmet. He was thrown to the ground with the force of it.


    He rolled aside as more spears came downward. Some impaled themselves on the road. One burned his foot. Pulling himself up, William rose and warded off and assault with a flame whip by the Vulture. The whip wrapped around his shield, which was yanked to one side.


    William swung his sword, but the creature pulled back. Now it drew its bow and began to fire arrows at him. William blocked one after another. Yet the creature was always moving, and it seemed like his arrows created a rain of poisoned steel.


    So it went. Seconds passed into minutes. The creature launched one projectile after another at him. Then Melchious ran out of arrows. William readied himself to face it in melee.


    Instead, it descended and took hold of one of the pillars. Tearing it from the ground, it hurled it spinning toward him. William threw himself to the ground. The pillar passed over him. It smashed against the flagstones, raising a shower of dirt and stone.


    Before he could stand, the Vulture was on him. One claw was clutching him by the throat. His shield was thrown away, and his sword fell from his hand. He reached for it while trying to ward off its stabbing beak.


    Reaching up, William struck the beast across the eye. It recoiled, its grip loosened, and he snatched up his sword.


    Then he drove it upward. The blade pierced through the creature''s skin, deep into its heart. The beast screamed in agony and recoiled. It tried to fly away, but William was too quick. He brought around his sword to strike it across the neck. It made a bloody wound, and the beast gasped. Another stroke took the head clean off.


    "My, what a magnificent show," said Arraxia. "Yet what horror! You appear to have been injured!" William felt the marks left on his neck. And also there were the burns which had been left to him. He sighed. "It''s only a scratch."


    "A scratch that could get infected and kill you," mused Arraxia. "A shame you don''t have access to divine energy. Perhaps I might suggest an alternative..."


    "I don''t need your help," hissed William.


    Opening his pack, he drew out some bandages and his waterskin. He did his best to clean the cut, then wrapped the bandages around him and tied them.


    "Hmm, what primitive methods of healing," mused Arraxia.


    "Rusara taught me how to heal minor injuries. That was before I learned to work miracles," snapped William. "I''m more than capable of treating this." Putting his things away, he began to walk. His foot hurt severely, and he was limping.


    "It certainly would be quicker just to take my training," noted Arraxia.


    "What was that demon even doing here, anyway?" asked William. He was trying to distract himself from the pain. "How did it get here?"


    "The Iron Kingdom works with demons," mused Arraxia. "Not with Melchious, of course. But their shields allow my kind to pass freely."


    "Why would someone ever want to shut out the gods and not demons?" asked William.


    "Well, obviously, to play into my hands and allow the hell''s free reign in this land," said Arraxia.


    "I mean, why would a mortal want to shut out the gods?" said William. "I know why you would do it. You''d probably do it purely out of spite. Even if you stood nothing to gain."


    "Ordinarily, I would object, but all I can answer is ''probably.''" mused Arraxia.


    "How would you even do it?" asked William as he limped around the broken pillar on the road. "Divine power lives in the heart of every mortal being to ever live. You can''t just block it out."


    "The Iron Kingdom didn''t. They merely drain it," said Arraxia. "It is actually rather clever. You see at the heart of this domain in the Iron City, the center of the godlessness. All of the divine energy which is drained by those is drawn into the Iron City. At the heart of it is a great crystal known as the Void Stone.


    "The Iron Council, who reigns over the Iron Kingdom, chooses what to do with the divine energy."


    "And they don''t think it''s worth using it to maintain the boundaries between this world and the next?" asked William.


    "Not really," said Arraxia. "An occasional demonic attack gets people scared and makes it, so they are less likely to repel. Tyrants positively love an overarching enemy. It lets them pose and posture and justify their monstrous actions.


    "It makes it all the more fun to torment them after the fact."


    "Is this from personal experience?" asked William.


    Arraxia was oddly silent for a moment ." ...Not really. Tormenting sinners is a cush job with few risks or rewards. I signed on to rule all creation. I''ll leave the damning of souls to those with no ambition. Are you quite well?"


    "Yes," said William. "I''ll live."


    "Oh, excellent," said Arraxia. "What about the poison?"


    "Poison?" asked William.


    "Yes. That demon has poisoned claws," said Arraxia. "It''s running through your blood right now. If you don''t accept my help, you''ll die."


    "I already said I wouldn''t work for you," hissed William. Then his vision went blurry. His legs collapsed out from under him. He fell, and his eyes darkened.

 Chapter 272 - Eighteen: The Home of Cerel

    It was darkness. No, darkness had substance. This was a void. Pure oblivion. William wandered in this place of emptiness. And he wondered if even he was real. Did he exist? Or was he the figment of some ancient and primordial gods'' whims? Had he been given form by accident or for a purpose? And if there was a purpose, what was it? Was his existence simply for the god''s amusement?


    He shook himself from such musing.


    "Where am I?" asked William. His own voice returned to him like a thunderclap. As if it was the first speech ever said in this place.


    "You are in a realm now devoid of the power of the divine," said Arraxia''s voice. "There is now only me. Rather the way I like it. And you are dying."


    William realized she was serious. There was nothing casual in the way she said it. He could feel the poison rushing through his veins. He didn''t want to die. But he tried not to show it. "So be it."


    There was mocking laughter. "You can''t hide your fear in this place. Even as we speak, the poison is sapping your strength. Draining away your life force."


    William said nothing. Part of him was screaming to find a way out. Any way.


    "No reaction?" asked Arraxia. "Well, let me ask you this; What do you think will happen to Kiyora if you die?"


    "What of her?" asked William.


    "She is trapped," said Arraxia. "Enslaved to the Iron Kingdom. Already their magics are working on her. She''ll resist for a time, but eventually, she''ll lose her very identity. Felix will be hunted down and killed. The Axe of Fortenex will fall into their hands."


    "You''re lying," said William.


    "Am I?" asked Arraxia. "Am I really? You have part of her within you. What do you sense?"He felt that part of him open. He looked into a bright and blinding blue light and saw the truth. All that Arraxia said was true or seemed true. But William did not think Kiyora was as helpless as Arraxia claimed she was.


    "So you see, it isn''t so much as whether or not you want to sacrifice yourself," said Arraxia. "So much as whether or not you are willing to sacrifice everyone you care about to maintain your scruples.


    "Especially since nobody would ever know."


    "What do you want me to do?" asked William.


    "Simple enough. Open your heart to me, and I will save you," said Arraxia. "I will bring out the power of Melchious within your being and use it to heal your wounds and ills."


    "Won''t that give him control?" asked William.


    "Far from it. I will be destroying Melchious'' means of control. And I will do it by sacrificing his power," said Arraxia. "Of course, I''ll be trying to manipulate you using my own influence, but you were able to defy Melchious. Surely you can do the same for me. Assuming you want to."


    William considered it. Once before, he had been given such an offer and had nearly accepted it. Once, a long time ago, he would have taken this one. But he was not the same person he''d been then. He wasn''t the same person he''d been an hour ago. The world was always shifting, and people shifted with it.


    "No. No, I will not give my will to you," said William. "If it is Elranor''s will that I live, he will send aid."


    "There is a difference between faith and stupidity," said Arraxia, voice frustrated.


    "Perhaps. But I don''t think Kiyora would want me to work with you. And Felix would call me an idiot for even considering it." said William. "I have already refused you once, demoness. Why do you persist in wasting both our time?


    "I wonder if, for all your bluster if you do not have a personal stake in this."


    "I wonder if you will sing the same tune when Felix is being tortured to death," snapped Apraxia. "No doubt by a Kiyora who has lost her very identity."


    He''d hit a nerve. Although William could feel his veins burning, he smiled. "Felix is important to me. But in the end, he is just a servant, and I cannot sacrifice my will for his sake alone. And Kiyora is a goddess. I expect she can get herself out of this. And even if she couldn''t, I doubt Elranor would stand for what the Iron Kingdom is doing. In time he will send aid.


    "Also, you wouldn''t have asked for my help if you didn''t need me. So I think you''re bluffing."


    "Congratulations on realizing the obvious," said Arraxia. "I''m only making the offer to pass the time anyway."


    William awoke. The pain of the poison was gone, and he was lying in a cotton bed. There was an open room, and he could see many other patients lying in beds like this one. His every inch ached. His sword was gone, as was his armor.


    He sat up and realized he was shirtless.


    At that moment, a curtain was pulled aside, and an old woman hobbled in. Her skin was wrinkled and pale. Her hair was covered by a hood, and she wore all black. She came to his side and looked at him. "So you are coming to at last then."


    "Where am I?" asked William. "Who are you?"


    "I am Cerel the Healer, and you are in my home," said the woman. "It is fortunate I found you when I did. If it had been a few hours later, the poison would be too advanced."


    "You saved me?" guessed William.


    "Yes. It was the least I could do," said Cerel. "You killed the Vulture of Melchious. He has been ravaging the villages of this place for years now. We were beginning to think we would never be rid of him?"


    "Surely your Lord should have done something?" said William.


    Cerel blinked. "Do you mean the Iron King?"


    "I suppose," said William.


    "He dwells in the Iron City and never comes out," said Cerel, walking over to one of the other patients. She began to administer ointment to wounds. "His warriors are stretched thin. And the Vulture wasn''t considered a serious problem."


    "Why not?" asked William. "Surely, such a vicious creature is a threat to everyone."


    "The Vulture didn''t destroy villages. Just robbed cradles and ambushed isolated farmsteads," said Cerel. "He didn''t depopulate regions, merely terrorized them. He must seem like the least of our worries with all the horrors of late.


    "He ate my sister fifteen years ago. And several of those who lie near you were hurt by him."


    "And the others?" asked William.


    "They were the victims of mining accidents," said Cerel. "Even dwarves are sometimes injured, and not all those who mine are dwarves."


    "What do you mean?" asked William. "Dwarves are the only civilized race that can safely do mining. When humans do it, they die in droves."


    "The local magistrate uses it as a death sentence," said Cerel. "A few weeks in the mines can kill anyone you want to get rid of. And the great source of revenue is the minerals in the earth. There are plenty of mines to go around."


    "How can one live like this?" asked William, looking out a window to the lifeless forest. "In this... nightmare."


    "One endures. One can''t do much else," said Cerel with a sigh. "It was not always like this. Once, the Iron Kingdom was tall and strong. We were once the slaves of the minotaurs, taken from a thousand different lands. But the Iron King freed us, helped us overthrow our masters, and we built this place.


    "The King roamed far and wide. He drove back all our enemies and made fortresses tall and strong. Yet those days are past, and we are decaying."


    "The King has retreated into his palace, and his council rules now. Perhaps he has gone bad. Or maybe he is not the same King that the legends speak of. Whichever it was, our golden years are long past. Now is a time of wolves.


    "All I can do is heal those who are injured."


    William hesitated. Cerel''s eyes were distant and sad. "How did you heal me? My own powers are useless." And he had just let slip the fact that he had divine powers. Idiot.


    "There are many plants that have magical healing properties," said Cerel. "I know them all. However, I could not heal that scar of yours. How did you get it?"


    "Battling a demoness," said William. He didn''t want to discuss the matter.


    "Well, however, you got it; no spell or medicine of mine could mend it," said Cerel. "Scars like that only happen when they mark something. It must have been from an important chapter in your life."


    "More than one," said William. "It is a long story."


    "I know. I read your journal," said Cerel.


    William felt annoyed at that. Who was she to go around poking around in his things? Then again, she''d had no idea who he was and would have needed to know. He might have been a threat.


    "Oh, that," he said. "I''ve taken to always keeping a volume on me to write my adventures in while I am having them. Just in case I end up being pulled on another one. Truth be told, it is less impressive than it sounds.


    "In the first part, I was terrified for my life. In the second, I was only a supporting element. Raynald and Rusara were true heroes. As for this part, I can''t make a judgment yet."


    "I think you did as well as anyone could expect. And if these tales are true, you must be a formidable warrior," Cerel looked like she was driving at something. "May I ask a favor of you?"


    "You may," said William. "I cannot promise anything until I hear what you desire." That sounded suitably dramatic.


    "There is a village near this one. A place called Calacosh" said Cerel. "A vicious giant has raided it. Every night he has come and devoured one among the village. And no one can stop him. They have called for help from the Iron City, but no help has come.


    "And now most of the soldiers have been sent north to hold the line against the Withering Lord."


    "And you wish for me to help them." guessed William.


    "Yes. I have no reward to offer you," said Cerel. "But I fear that if this giant finishes with Calacosh, it will come to my village next."


    William sighed. He really couldn''t turn down a plea for help like this. "Then I will do as you ask," he said. "Tell me, though, has there any news of a man named Lord Byran?"


    "Whispers came from the village a few days ago that he stopped an invasion by the Einheroth," said Cerel. "News from the Iron City claims that it was utterly smashed. But I have some art of divination, and I know that the battle is far from over.


    "He has stopped the vanguard. But even now the Einheroth pour out from the mountains. And with them go many goblins. The foul little creatures die in droves for their dark master."


    "How is it that you draw power?" asked William. "Mine has been cut off." There wasn''t much point in pretending at this stage.


    "I do not gain power from a god but the spirits," said Cerel. "Laevian is a goddess, but she was first a spirit of woods. Every tree is one of her temples, and she grants me a measure of strength I cannot gain from the likes of Elranor."


    "You mean she is not shut out?" guessed William.


    "It all depends on what you mean by shutting them out," said Cerel. "As a god, she cannot directly grant me power while those cursed pillars still stand. Yet she holds sway over many spirits, and it is from those that I draw my strength.


    "Of course, were I to ever reveal my powers openly, I should be sliced to pieces by the Iron Kingdom. They have a very harsh policy on anyone with power besides themselves."


    "Why is that?" asked William.


    "If you asked them, they would say because power must be under the control of those groomed to wield it," said Cerel. "That commoners could not understand the use of it. Of course, at the same time, they defy the gods on the exact opposite grounds.


    "Those with power have the luxury of being hypocrites.


    "How is it that you found me?" asked William. "I did not see any village for many miles."


    "I was grabbed from my bed and flown through the air. Then I was thrown on the roadside far from my home. I began to walk back, and I found you around the bend." said Cerel. "I didn''t understand it at first. But I think this demoness with whom you trade barbs is fixated on you and desires you alive for the moment."


    "Comforting," said William. "Whatever the case, I will see to this giant of Calacosh personally. It is the least I can do, considering you saved my life. Where are my armor and sword?"


    "I shouldn''t leave just yet," said Cerel. "The poison may still be in your veins. Wait at least a day."


    "...So be it," said William. "But I want to know where my armor and weapons are. I need to care for them."


    "I put them in the cupboard," said Cerel. "Follow me."


    It took several days for William to recover his strength. During that time, it quickly became clear that Cerel was no ordinary healer. She healed through ointments and herbs. Things that William had been brought up to view as a stopgap measure. Yet she got uses out of them, which he had not known was possible.


    Even so, several of the patients died. Others recovered and went on their way. When William was strong enough to leave the room, he realized Cerel was well off. There were several rooms in her house and many beautiful things. There were runes of warding on the doors and windows.


    If one looked out the window, one saw a hilltop looking over a village of thatched roofs and stone make. The despair in the rest of the kingdom was not so intense here. Some power other than the divine bolstered these people.


    Yet the black pillar at the center of town stood tall. It leered down at them all. It seemed intent on sucking all meaning from the village. And the presence of something which defied it only seemed to infuriate the pillar. Or whatever power was behind the pillar?


    Finally, he fully recovered. Donning his armor and equipment, he asked the question he''d meant to for some time. "Do you have any family?"


    "My son is a soldier in the Iron Kingdom," said Cerel. "My daughter has married and moved away. My husband died some years ago. Now I live alone and tend to the sick."


    "I''m sorry," said William. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then Cerel drew out one of the ointments he had seen her use. "Take this with you."


    "What are these made from?" asked William.


    "They are made from healing plants grown in my garden," said Cerel. "And also from the leaves of a tree of Alchara."


    "A tree of Alchara?" asked William. "I''ve heard legends of those. Didn''t the goddess herself plant them, and their leaves can heal anything? I thought most of them were destroyed during the Founding of Harlenor. I know a few survive in Escor and the elvish reservations."


    "Well, one survived here," said Cerel. "And I have planted its seeds in other places. Do not tell anyone about it. I fear if the Iron Kingdom learned of it, they would hack it down purely because it came from the gods."


    "I promise you," said William. "I will tell no one. And I thank you."


    "It is no trouble," said Cerel. "Actually, it is to my benefit. You can''t kill the horrors infesting this land if you die." She handed him a pack filled with provisions."


    "Fair enough," said William with a grin. "Could you point me toward Calacosh?"


    He took the pack, and Cerel led him outside. Finding a road branching off from the main one, she pointed down it. There was even less hope on this path than in the other places he had been. It was almost painful to look at it.


    "Follow this path for a day, and you''ll reach it," said Cerel. "You can tell it by the feeling of absolute despair."


    "I feel that everywhere in this place," said William.


    "Oh yes, I had heard that outsiders respond to the Iron Kingdom badly," said Cerel. "We''ll look for the worse case of absolute despair."


    William laughed. Then, mustering his courage, he took his first step.

 Chapter 273 - Nineteen: In the Service of Iron

    Days had passed, and Kiyora was not happy.


    For one thing, she''d spent those days negotiating with the trees. Trees who were very, very put out after centuries of neglect. It couldn''t even be called negotiations. She walked among them, speaking with them, struggling to get them even to acknowledge her. The plants of this land had a spiteful twinge to their minds. It had been grown in darkness, and when she talked to them, she got a painful buzz.


    In the meantime, Raka held regular meetings within a manor at the center of the village. That was right; they were in a village. They had moved there. Kiyora''s head had been shaky; things just seemed to breeze by. The meeting room was large and circular, with a balcony looking out over the plaza. At the center was a table with maps on it.


    Kiyora listened to petty discussions of one thing or another. Then something caught her interest. Something about giants and a village named Calacosh.


    "Shouldn''t we be doing something about Calacosh?" asked Kiyora suddenly.


    "Calacosh has already fallen," said Rubia. She had shed her red dress and replaced it with gray armor. "It is right in the path of a potential Einheroth invasion; in any case, several cults sprouted up there. The presence of religion cannot be tolerated. Since we cannot trust them not to betray us, we have designated them a low-priority territory."


    "Nice, why don''t we just pull the legs off an insect while we''re at it," said Kiyora. Then again, if the insect was Rioletta...


    "We don''t mean to be cruel, Kiyora," said Raka, sounding hurt. "We simply have no choice. The Iron Kingdom has few resources these days. We have to make hard choices. Calacosh has repeatedly violated our laws and been caught creating cults."


    "To which god?" asked Kiyora, feeling dead.


    "Does it matter?" asked Raka. "One god is much the same as another."


    "Speaking as a god, I find your attitude insulting," said Kiyora.


    Raka sighed. "Elranor. Some missionaries landed a dozen years back. They attempted converting the populace. Despite our best efforts, the cult has hung on. And it''s appeared in a lot of different places now."


    "You do know you''re talking about one of the most powerful religions in the world, right?" asked Kiyora. "I mean, even I know that."


    "It isn''t important right now," said Raka. "Rubia, how is your end of things proceeding?"


    "Quite well," said Rubia. "I''ve put out a call for mercenaries. With any luck, the Iron Kingdom should be able to gain a force of minotaurs to come to our aid soon. And you, Raka?" sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Training the militia is going well," said Raka. "My idea is for my soldiers to each instruct ten people in the basics. Once they understood that, they moved on to teach ten more in the basics. The original trainers moved on to a new group. And so on and so forth.


    "This way, we''ll have a large force of conscripts with basic training. Their numbers should make up for their lack of quality."


    "Rather creative," said Rubia. "No one expected you to be able to do this."


    "I haven''t done it yet," said Raka with a sigh. "Kiyora, what of your part."


    "I''ve been talking with the trees," said Kiyora.


    "And?" asked Raka.


    "And what?" asked Kiyora. "Your pillars have been draining the powers of the spirit for centuries. I''m not exactly in a position to get them to help you. The best I managed was convince them to slow down any Einheroth which come through here." She had done that, hadn''t she? She''d just remembered. "And even that I only got by suggesting you might consider destroying a few pillars."


    "Out of the question," said Rubia.


    "Well, then you won''t get any more help from the trees," said Kiyora.


    "I''m beginning to think you aren''t trying," said Rubia.


    "I''m beginning to think you''re an idiot for expecting me to put my full effort into this," snapped Kiyora.


    "We haven''t done anything to you that has not happened to us," said Raka.


    "She''s right, you know. Every one of us has been under the will of the Iron King since we were born," said Rubia. "Well, actually, uh, not me."


    "Really?" asked Kiyora, raising an eyebrow.


    "Queen Zigildrazia sent me as a gift to the Iron King," said Rubia. "I am his consort as well as his left hand."


    "Well, you sure dress like it," said Kiyora. "I assume he likes things drab and uninspired. What about Arraxia? Isn''t she under the will of the Iron King?"


    "Ah, yes, of course. I forgot to mention her," said Rubia. "No, she never served under the Iron King until recently." She looked at Raka. "In any case, Raka, what are your plans now?"


    "Well, I was thinking I''d take a leisurely walk to Calacosh with my bodyguard," said Raka. "Of course, if, by some strange chance, we should end up killing a giant or two while we are there, then it wouldn''t be a problem."


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    "This is a dangerous game you are playing, Raka," noted Rubia. "The Iron Kingdom wanted to let that village get wiped out as an example. If it doesn''t fall, the other villages will continue to worship Elranor. They may even press on."


    "We haven''t had many problems elsewhere," said Raka. "And if I save a village from demons, it will do a great deal to convince them of our good intentions."


    "And if you and your men are wiped out?" asked Rubia.


    "Then I don''t expect the militia would have worked out anyway," noted Raka.


    "Yeah, that''s great," snapped Kiyora. "I''m going to go take a walk myself. See how Arraxia is doing." And she stood and walked away.


    "Wait a minute-" began Raka.


    Kiyora faded away. Was it just her, or was the inner light that always emanated from her weaker now? She felt like she was being devoured one memory at a time. Everything here was tinged with a faint grayness.


    She found Arraxia lounging on a rooftop in the sun. Her tail was draped over one hip, and as Kiyora approached, she looked up. The demoness stretched her neck and rolled over, hair falling over her shoulders. "Oh, my dear partner, the Dreaming Goddess. How have you been?"


    "Save it," said Kiyora.


    Arraxia blinked and sat up. "What?"


    "I said save it," said Kiyora. "I meant I didn''t want to hear your fake claims that you consider me as an equal."


    "Ah, of course. I thought you were cursing," said Arraxia.


    "Cursing?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Arraxia. "Invoking salvation is a sign of frustration among demons."


    "So, like damn it, for mortals?" said Kiyora.


    "Yes, I suppose," said Arraxia.


    Kiyora remained silent for a moment. "...Mind if I ask you something?"


    "By all means, I am at your disposal," said Arraxia.


    "Why are you close with Rubia?" asked Kiyora.


    "Hmm?" said Arraxia.


    "William said that Fortenex had thousands of sons and daughters. You regarded them as competition," said Kiyora. "Why is Rubia different?"


    Arraxia looked serious for the first time since Kiyora had seen her. Well, that wasn''t exactly true. But there was no arrogance in her look. Nor was she affronted or enraged. She just looked grim. "We have the same Mother."


    "Oh, so she''s your full sister then," guessed Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Arraxia. "My Mother conspired with Fortenex to overthrow Queen Zigildrazia. Her plan failed, thanks to Melchious betraying her. She was captured, and I never saw her again. Rubia was taken under Zigildrazia''s wing. Meanwhile, I was given to Melchious."


    "Wow, tough break," said Kiyora. What was it like growing up under Melchious? Did demons grow up? "Were you a child or-"


    "I was created much as I am now," said Arraxia.


    "It must have been horrible," said Kiyora.


    Arraxia laughed. "Hardly. The brutal torment of Melchious gave me strength. It gave me the will and ambition to succeed."


    "I meant being created as much of an insufferable jerk as you are now," said Kiyora. "It must be painful, being unable to be even tolerable company."


    "Rubia has no ambition," said Arraxia, ignoring her. "One of these days, I''ll have to break her to my will to avoid killing her."


    "So you''ve met someone you wouldn''t murder on a whim," realized Kiyora. "Progress!"


    "Silence," said Arraxia in irritation. At that moment, Rubia scaled up onto the roof. Arraxia looked up at her with raised eyebrows. "What do you want, Rubia? Has Zigildrazia given you a new job polishing her high-heeled boots? Or has she perhaps promoted you to massaging her back?"


    "We are all of us, her slaves," said Rubia. "Whether you want to admit it or not, big sister. And if you must know, I have good news."


    "Very well. I shall humor you," said Arraxia, sitting up and getting to her feet. "Tell me, dear sister, what is the reaction has the venerable and distinguished Demon Queen?"


    Rubia drew out a letter and read aloud:


    "''Ahem,


    "My dearest Arraxia.''" She paused. "She used your pet name; I don''t know how she learned it."


    "It is not a pet name," snapped Arraxia.


    "''I am moderately impressed with the execution of your coup against Melky.''" She looked up.


    "Melky?" asked Kiyora, surprised.


    "Her pet name for Melchious," said Arraxia. "It infuriates him."


    Did she even hear herself?


    "Anyway, I''ll continue," said Rubia. "''It was most amusing to see him trying to tear his own eyes out in sheer horror. His very spirit attempted to end its existence. I am grateful to acknowledge you as the ruler of Seathorius. My only condition is that you must hold it against Melky.''"


    "That doesn''t mean anything!" said Kiyora. "That is like saying that something is blue unless it is red."


    "As always, you talk more than you understand," said Arraxia. "She is saying that she will take no direct action against Melchious or me. If she''d decided to come in on Melchious side, I might have been moderately inconvenienced."


    "Do you want me to take a message to the Queen?" asked Rubia.


    "No," said Arraxia. "Let her sweat."


    "That may slight her," said Rubia, warning in her voice.


    "Let her be slighted," said Arraxia, lying back down. "She is no concern of mine."


    "Do enjoy your delusions of superiority, dear sister," said Rubia.


    "Thank you, I intend to," said Arraxia. "Do give my regards to Mother''s killer."


    "I intend to," said Rubia before leaping off the roof.


    "Spineless weakling," said Arraxia. "What was it you have to talk to me about again? Or is this a social call?"


    Kiyora tried to remember what she came to talk about. Had she even had a plan? "Raka is sending the militia to Calacosh. Officially they are taking a leisurely walk there."


    "Well, that is an unusually proactive move," mused Arraxia. "I suppose we''ll have to do something about that." She raised a clawed finger and slicing through the air. A seam in the air was torn, and Kiyora realized she was looking through a looking glass. It was drawn up, and a huge tan face, small eyes, and a very thick jaw looked out at them.


    The eyes stared at it.


    "Grendesh, when you next go to attack the village, might I recommend you take some minions?" said Arraxia. There was no response, and she sighed. "You can talk in my presence when I ask you a question."


    "Grendesh not have any minions," said the creature. "He just have friends. We like punting humans. Like eating them too," He looked down sadly. "Friends not want to go on next raid."


    "How unfortunate. Why don''t you go speak to your mother and see what she has to say on the subject," said Arraxia. "I''m certain she knows a tribe of goblins or two who could act as disposable fodder while you eat your fill."


    Kiyora felt she should be outraged at this. But somehow, she couldn''t be. Her emotions were deadened. "So, does the Iron Kingdom know that you are doing this?"


    "No, just the Iron Council," said Arraxia. "They view me as a means by which they can purge undesirable elements. I imagine they delude themselves that they are keeping their hands clean. If they massacred Calacosh themselves, everyone might get upset.


    "But if a group of wicked giants eats them up after they were foolish enough to spurn our protection? Why that is a cautionary tale."


    "But Raka doesn''t know about this?" surmised Kiyora.


    "I expect not," said Arraxia.


    "Was this your idea?" asked Kiyora.


    "Rubia''s, actually," said Arraxia. "If anyone finds out, the Iron Council can simply blame it on her."


    "So how are you planning to betray them?" asked Kiyora.


    "Betray? I am wounded," said Arraxia. "My word is my bond. When I make a promise, I keep it. I merely choose my own time and way of keeping it."


    "Whatever," said Kiyora. "So, what is your plan anyway?"


    "Well, in the long term, nothing less than complete dominion over all realities that exist. And those that will exist did exist and may exist, of course," said Arraxia. "In the more immediate term, I''d like to start a war."


    "Mission accomplished," said Kiyora.


    "Oh, but I don''t mean a petty skirmish of the sort going on now," said Arraxia. "Or a border conflict which ends anticlimactic like that fiasco in Artarq. No, I want a real war. One which lasts decades and spills oceans of innocent blood. One in which any side accomplishes nothing. In which every battle is but a futile conflict that proceeds to my benefit alone."


    "Why?" asked Kiyora. "Don''t get me wrong, I do think you''re petty enough to do this out of spite, but you usually have a goal."


    "Oh very well, if you must know, I''ll tell you," said Arraxia. "Remember how I got my hands on the Axe of Fortenex during that affair with the raishans? Well, I would have killed William there and then. But it didn''t work for me.


    "I, in all my majesty, was denied. Well, clearly, it couldn''t have been because of any lack of cunning or power on my part. I am unrivaled in both.


    "But then I realized that Father loves pointless bloodshed. Most of my plans were taking advantage of conflicts already in motion. Father prefers it when everyone except victor dies. Thus I have chosen to humor him and initiate a plan that will spell the total downfall of the Iron Kingdom.


    "Thus proving me worthy of wielding the Axe of Fortenex."


    "And Raka?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, she can die too," said Arraxia cheerfully. "In fact, everyone can die. The more, the happier I shall be. I despise these people, and I''d much rather see them all hung from trees rather than content and free. Elranor likely has some loathsome plan to improve the livelihood of these cretins. No doubt returning the Gods to their rightful place and forgiving his enemies.


    "Truly disgusting. I don''t at all know what William sees in him."


    "Well, I know what William sees in you," said Kiyora. That got Arraxia''s attention. But she said nothing more.


    "Well?" demanded Arraxia.


    "Oh, you''re interested?" said Kiyora in mock surprise. "I thought you were omnipotent."


    "Out with it," snapped Arraxia.


    "You are like a burning building. Tragic and highly destructive," said Kiyora, "But you can''t look away."


    "You flatter me. Truly no one can really understand my pain," said Arraxia. "The pain of being such a wondrous and eternal being, trapped in so insignificant a form. Yes, as I am, I am more beautiful and terrible than any other creature, but I am limited.


    "I cannot imagine why I choose to take on such a form. Such is my curse."


    "I''d say your curse is more rampant narcissism than any status as a deity," noted Kiyora.


    Arraxia rolled her eyes. "Please. All succubi are narcissists. It''s the basis for our ideology."


    Kiyora had heard enough. She suspected Arraxia was playing up her arrogance to take people off guard. So she teleported away and didn''t care where she ended up.

 Chapter 274 - Twenty: Breaking Free

    It was a barren and miserable shore. But that was redundant. This place was barren and miserable, even if it teemed with life. The shore was slightly less miserable. There were no pillars on the sea, so more of the world''s beauty escaped the ravages of the Iron King''s will.


    Kiyora sat by the shore here, thinking. For a time, she remained there. Eventually, Alchara appeared in front of her, walking out of the distance of the waves. Kiyora privately hoped a wave would splash her, but no such luck as she came near.


    "Well, we have a problem," said Alchara.


    "No, really?" asked Kiyora, almost laughing.


    "This would never have happened if you had simply cooperated with me, Kiyora," said Alchara. "I tried to warn you, but you wouldn''t listen. What did you expect would come from working with a demon?"


    "Well, I kind of figured I could stop your imperialistic agenda," said Kiyora.


    "And as a result, you are now in the power of Arraxia," noted Alchara.


    "Not really," said Kiyora. "I''m not actually trying my hardest to break free. I''d already decided to take a break from helping the Nakmar with every little thing."


    "And I suppose being the slave to Arraxia is superior?" asked Alchara.


    "Well yeah," said Kiyora. "She talks a lot, so I can figure out what she''s up to. And I''m about to turn the tables on her anyway." When had that thought come to her? It was like she was thinking below the surface but not aware that she was doing it.


    Weird.


    "And how do you intend to do that?" asked Alchara, looking at her keenly.


    "Well, her whole plan is based around no one knowing about what they''re up to," said Kiyora. "I mean, if the Harlenorian Kingdoms found out the Iron Kingdom, their fleets would sail with the tide.


    "So all I have to do is get the word out."


    "And what are your plans for that?" asked Alchara.


    "I''m still figuring that part out, okay," said Kiyora, but that wasn''t true. She just didn''t know she''d figured it out long ago before this happened. "I''m going to make contact with the spirits of the sea." Her thoughts were getting really weird today, weren''t they? "If I can free Captain Hrungeld and Tanith, they can go tell Duke Vanion. Then they can burn the city down, or negotiate, or whatever. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "He owes me anyway."


    "You will have difficulty leaving the area around the pillars," noted Alchara.


    "Good point," said Kiyora. "You get some of the spirits of the sea to come here so I can talk to them."


    "Who are you to command me?" asked Alchara.


    "I did rescue all those people from Black Star," noted Kiyora.


    "Ictargo rescued all those people," said Alchara. "You were one of the ones in need of saving."


    "Yeah, and he only did it because my man William broke the cloaking field," said Kiyora. "Just because you get the finishing blow on the bad guy doesn''t make you the hero. You need some drive to be a protagonist.


    "And anyway, do you really want Arraxia to get total control of Seathorius? Because we both know she will."


    "You could just ask me for help," noted Alchara.


    "Yes," said Kiyora. "But I don''t like you. You tried to force me into an arranged marriage with a guy I''d never even met. Now, are you going to help me or not?"


    "I''ll be back," hissed Alchara.


    The sun fell beyond the horizon, and Alchara was gone. Kiyora looked up at the skies, hoping to see the stars. Yet the clouds were heavy. They were always heavy in this place. Something hung overhead, filtering out even the light far above in the heavens.


    So instead, she thought. Being in Alchara''s presence brought to mind relationships. More specifically, how she was nearly forced into one brought up another thought. Arraxia.


    It was obvious, in retrospect.


    Kiyora was attracted to girls as well as boys. She hadn''t realized it until now. Not that there was anything wrong with that. It was considered a feature among Dreamer Elves. Being part of a race of five-sixths females meant that lesbianism was considered a good thing.


    But what was weirder and more disturbing was that she was particularly attracted to Arraxia. She didn''t look remotely elven, and she was anything resembling a good person. Actually, she was downright evil; she was just so upfront and charming about it one forgot it for a bit. Even William wasn''t above it all. Why else would he have verbal sparring matches with her at every chance?


    What was the point of this thought process? Ah right. What was she going to do about this? Well, Kiyora wasn''t stupid. It was obvious Arraxia had some fixation on William, and it may have extended to Kiyora over time. But this crush, if it could be called that, did not actually stop her from trying to murder them. If anything, it may have encouraged it.


    Yeah, there was no way that any kind of relationship between the three of them would ever work. They were from entirely different worlds, even if Kiyora could talk William into no easy task. No relationship with Arraxia could ever work. Not unless one party outright enslaved the other.


    Though Arraxia certainly seemed to be trying for the enslavement options.


    The night passed on, and the first morning rays of the sunlight could be seen over the horizon. As the edge of the sun came over the edge of her sight. Then there was a flash, and Alchara was there on the water. "I have done as you asked," said Alchara. "A powerful spirit of the water has come. His name is Porolus. Do as you wish."


    And she disappeared.


    "Thank you," said Kiyora before looking into the water. Out of it she suddenly emerged a huge serpent. Smaller than Jormungsk but also sleeker. "Hi."


    "I am Porolus," said the creature. "What do you want?"


    "That''s a nice name," said Kiyora. "Tell me, Porolus, do you like the Iron Kingdom?"


    "Do I like the Iron Kingdom?" Porolus seemed to consider the question. "Their pillars drain the innate energy from everything in this land. They allow demons to roam freely. They crush all belief and creativity in pursuit of satisfying their own egos."


    "I''ll take that as a no," said Kiyora.


    "More indifferent, actually," admitted Porolus. "They cannot put pillars on the seas. Jomungsk seems to like them, however."


    "Why is that?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Lord Byran Asteem''s grandfather was a friend of his," said Porolus. "He keeps the ports clear out of loyalty to that ancient friendship."


    "Ah," said Kiyora. "So, what is your relation to Jormungsk?"


    "Oh, we are brothers, he and I," said Porolus. "Though he was always the biggest, so I can''t fight him. We used to swim all the time, but he prefers the waters around the Iron City."


    "Well, I was wondering if you could maybe help me with a problem," said Kiyora.


    "What kind of problem?" asked Porolus.


    "Well, you see, there is this ship, a merchant vessel captained by a Minotaur named Hrungeld," said Kiyora. "I was hoping you could help him escape."


    "Hmm, well, that will annoy Jormungsk and infuriate the Iron Council. So I have no objection to it," said Porolus. "Still, what''s in it for me?"


    "Well, if this plan goes off without a hitch, then I could see those pillars over there being torn down," said Kiyora,


    "Hmm, well, it would be nice to see some color on the shore for once," muttered Porolus. "Alright, show me them, and I''ll deal with it."


    "Great," said Kiyora. "Go to the Iron Kingdom. Look for Captain Hrungeld. The ship is a Viokin one, crewed by minotaurs, and there should be a blonde woman on it. It''s trapped behind sea gates."


    Stolen story; please report.


    "Oh, those silly things," said Porolus. "I could cause a flood to break open the gates." He motioned out to sea to the clouds growing ever darker on the horizon. "There is a storm coming. I could use that. But mortals don''t like sailing in those conditions."


    "I''ll be sure to tell them that," said Kiyora. "How will I know when they should sail?"


    "When the sea gate is broken to pieces, obviously," said Porolus. "I''ve wanted to do this for years. And now I finally have an occasion."


    "Glad to hear it," said Kiyora, feeling a twinge of happiness. She stood up with more vigor than she had felt in a while and snapped her fingers.


    Some will set themselves against her as she teleported. It tried to force her not to go. To turn away. To despair. But even as drained away her power, vast more amounts of it came forward as if from some vast reservoir. A reservoir filled with endless good deeds made without expectation of repayment. Yet there was something else there as well.


    Not for the first time, she felt as though she were someone else looking at Kiyora Yagos from the outside. A mere extension of the will of some greater power long sleeping. A mere dream in the mind of a sleeper.


    The dream broke through.


    Kiyora stood on the deck of Hrungeld''s ship and saw the minotaur sitting down, carving a piece of wood. He glanced up as she approached and stood in a hurry. "Queen Yagos, what is going on? What is the meaning of this?"


    "No time to lose," said Kiyora. "I need you to get your ships ready."


    "Why?" asked Hrungeld.


    Kiyora motioned to the sea gates. "In a few minutes, those gates are going to break. I''ve made the arrangements."


    "You mean for us to break out," said Hrungeld.


    "Yes," said Kiyora. "Get to Duke Vanion. Tell him that I''ve been taken control of and that the Iron Kingdom is..." She choked. A wall seemed to be built in her throat, different from before. The former had been despairing and cold. This one was hot and seemed to claw at her throat.


    Kiyora forced herself to speak. "About to fall. They have his son. Ask him for help..."


    "Are you well?" asked Hrungeld.


    "I got mind controlled by Arraxia with help from the Iron Kingdom," said Kiyora.


    "Who?" asked Hrungeld.


    "The demoness William fought," said Kiyora. "Now get ready!"


    "Right," said Hrungeld. He gripped a bell and rang it. "All you blubbering cows, get on deck and make ready to sail! Up now!"


    The crew rushed up to the deck. Tanith was among them, and though she was dressed in normal clothes, she wore two swords at her sides. She approached Hrungeld as the men assembled.


    "What is going on, Hrungeld?" asked Tanith before she saw Kiyora. "Where have you been? When you were captured, we thought you''d been killed."


    "Sorry to disappoint you," said Kiyora. "Hrungeld explain."


    Hrungeld did explain. But he only got about halfway through the explanation. Then there was a roar and a crack of thunder. The storm had hit. A great wave of water arose and struck the sea gate. It twisted and fell inward with a terrible groan. The water poured in and seized the ship, hauling it toward the breach.


    There was a flash of thunder as they were drawn out into the open ocean. Kiyora looked up and gaped. She saw a huge muscular figure riding a chariot drawn by giant goats. In his hand was a massive hammer which he swung about. And as he swung it, great waves washed up around them. Hrungeld laughed.


    "Kreshlak is riding the air!" cried Hrungeld. "Aha! Now this will be a storm worth remembering! To your places! We''ll ride this out, then sail away!"


    Then a shadow passed overhead. Kiyora looked up to see Jormungsk looming over them. The sea serpent had sailed after them and arose. He opened his mouth, and blue fire gathered within it. Then Porolus leaped out of the water and wrapped his body around Jormungsk, dragging him down.


    The two tangled in the water as the seas raged around them. Hrungeld''s crew were fast to work, and soon they were sailing away from the two serpents.


    "Porolus, you brat!" roared Jormungsk. "What is the meaning of this?!"


    "Just playing a game," laughed Porolus, breaking free.


    "You''ll regret interfering with my duties," said Jormungsk. "I''ll crush you to pieces, you wretch."


    "Feel free to do so if you can catch me," said Porolus before taking off.


    Jormungsk was after him in a moment. He slithered through the sea with such speed that it sent great waves to either side of him. Kiyora wondered if Porolus would be caught and if Jormungsk really meant his threat. She hoped he didn''t.


    The seas continued to rage but not around them. Something drew their ship quickly away from the Iron City and further down the coast. When they were clear, Hrungeld sighed in relief.


    "That was more adventure than I''d ever wanted," he muttered. "Kreshlak be praised, but why didn''t you give me more warning?"


    "I meant to, but it happened sooner than I expected," said Kiyora. "Though I didn''t expect Kreshlak to show up. So you''re heading to Artarq now?"


    "Yes," said Hrungeld, not sounding happy about the fact. "I was charged with escorting the Axe, I have an obligation to tell Vanion of my failure."


    "Hrungeld could you take me to shore?" asked Tanith.


    "Why?" asked Hrungeld.


    "I''m of no use here," said Tanith. "But if I can find William, I should be able to fill him in on what''s happening."


    "How will that help?" asked Kiyora.


    "William''s sword is enchanted with runes. They allow Rusara to see everything that goes on around him," said Tanith. "If I tell William what is happening, Rusara will know. That way, Duke Vanion will get the message."


    "Very well," said Hrungeld. "I''ll do as you ask."


    Tanith donned her armor and took some provisions. Then she was rowed to shore. Kiyora met her there, and the blonde girl looked at her seriously. "Queen Yagos, could you guide me to William?"


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora. "I think you should head for a village called Calacosh. That is the place which William was heading last time I heard."


    Then she turned to a tree and set her hand to the bark. The trees recognized he now, she''d talked to them enough, and she melded her will with theirs, trying to draw them out. "Excuse me, um, spirits. "Listen, I''d really like to ask for a favor. My friend Tanith here needs to find my other friend William Gabriel. He wears black skull armor and has blonde hair. And while you are at it there is a chimera named Massacre somewhere in these lands. If you could lead them to William too, I''d really appreciate it."


    The trees did not particularly care. They did not hate her. But they saw no reason to help her or those with her. These were not wicked like the trees that served Wraith, but bitter and hurt. And they were still being hurt by the pillars which Kiyora could sense throughout all the land. How had anyone erected all these?


    But it gave her an idea. "If you help me, I might be able to destroy these pillars. It''s a long shot, but I''d appreciate whatever help you can give."


    That gave the trees pause. They seemed to mull it over. It was only a small amount of help that Kiyora asked. And that even one pillar being destroyed would be a mercy. So she wasn''t surprised when they agreed.


    "Thanks a bunch," said Kiyora with a smile. "Okay, Tanith, you''re good to go."


    "Great," said Tanith, putting her hands on the hilts of her swords. "I hate traveling alone."


    "How often have you done it?" asked Kiyora.


    "Not very often," admitted Tanith. "Not since I left Gel Carn when I had to go on the run. But I hate it all the same."


    "What''s Gel Carn?" asked Kiyora.


    "A vassal Kingdom of Antion," said Tanith. "In southern Harlenor."


    "Well what are you so afraid of?" asked Kiyora with sarcasm. "You''re the ultimate warrior."


    "I''m not afraid I''ll get killed in combat," said Tanith. "I''d like that. I''m afraid I''ll trip on a loose stone and break my ankle. I don''t want to die starving to death in the wilderness."


    "Good luck then," said Kiyora. "And mind the roots."


    Tanith rolled her eyes and walked into the trees. Kiyora did not walk with her. She had not forgotten how the girl had boasted to William of keeping an innocent girl as a sex slave. A girl whose village she had helped destroy. Tanith may have liked William, but Kiyora did not like her.


    So she instead walked among the woods of this place. All around her, she could feel the trees rousing themselves. The wind brought their whispers to eachother, and they began to move. Leaves were falling around them.


    The trees were waking up. Was this all because of her? Or was it something else?


    Then Kiyora came to a part of the wood darker and more terrible than anything she had seen. It was horrible to look at and even more horrible to hear. The whisper of the wind was like nails on a chalkboard. The limbs of the trees were like claws. The leaves falling around her were as black as night.


    Suddenly the leaves began to swirl faster and faster. More fell to join until there was a whirlwind of black leaves flowing around Kiyora. Then suddenly, they all fell, and Kiyora saw a goddess. Kiyora wasn''t exactly sure how she knew she was a goddess. Yet she was both beautiful and terrible. Laevian was very thin, like a willow with hair that was the color of darker leaves. Her eyes were the darkest black imaginable and without pupils.


    "So you are the Dreaming Goddess who has been manipulating my spirits for all this time, are you?" she asked.


    Kiyora realized she was terrified. Yet she also felt like she knew Laevian, and she found herself going casual again. "Manipulating? You know that asking for help doesn''t count as manipulating, don''t you?"


    "Believe what you will, girl," said Laevian. "You play the role of pawn well."


    "To who?" asked Kiyora.


    Laevian smiled. It was an evil smile. "That is a question for the ages. You are manipulated so easily that I wonder if you aren''t a player in your own right."


    "Well you''re a nice person," said Kiyora. "Who are you anyway?"


    "I am Laevian," said the goddess. "Queen of the Wilds."


    "Right," said Kiyora. "Aren''t you Alchara''s sister or something?"


    "A relation I am not proud of," said Laevian. "I''ve quarreled with her for many ages. My greatest regret is that her elves were not wholly extinguished in the wars of Anoa the Bright."


    "Yeah, I hate you too," said Kiyora. "What do you want?"


    "Merely to observe," said Laevian. "And warn you. Melchious is at hand."


    "Melchious too?" asked Kiyora, feeling more frustrated than scared. "Couldn''t you get him to reschedule his evil plan for a few weeks? I mean we''ve already got Rubia, Arraxia, the Iron Council, Lord Byran. And that isn''t even counting the people who are on my side. At this rate, I''m going to need a freaking flow chart to keep all this straight."


    "You don''t seem to be taking this very seriously," noted Laevian.


    "Would it help me win?" asked Kiyora.


    Laevian seemed to consider the question. "Quite possibly. At any rate, Elranor requested I warn you that Melchious will move soon. He has taken physical form within this world and will be up to his old tricks soon enough. Expect carnage and death."


    "Well, that''s alright then. We''ve got plenty of it already," said Kiyora. "A few more burned villages won''t be any trouble."


    "Is that meant to be humorous?" asked Laevian.


    "Yeah, kind of," said Kiyora.


    "Well, it isn''t. I don''t find it in the least bit amusing," said Laevian. "If someone set fire to those meaningless apes houses, it might destroy some trees. And Elranor would find it in poor taste." Then she was gone.


    Kiyora sighed and looked to the trees. "Look I don''t mean to complain, but could you please send me back to my own world? You obviously still have your powers, and I''m stuck. I''m not sure how much time has passed on the outside, but I''m not looking forward to doing makeup work."


    The tree whispered, and their power emerged.


    "God I never knew dreams could be this dull," muttered Kiyora.


    Then she woke up.

 Chapter 275 - Twenty-one: William and Grendesh

    The Iron Kingdom was changing. As William walked along the path some days later, he could feel it in the air. Everything he looked at bore new life. Birds began to chirp. He saw animals scurrying here and there; a doe fled from him as he walked. A brook he passed was gurgling merrily, and flowers were starting to bloom along the side of the road.


    The black pillars seemed to be struggling. It was as if some mighty power had arisen in the Iron Kingdom to contest its king''s will. Sometimes the hopelessness would return, then be driven back, then return again. In other places, it still stood dominant over the land. In still others, the pillars seemed to have given up, and the majesty of nature had gained it.


    It was like he was watching a battle or even a war. Yet there were no soldiers or generals to direct conflict. It was the spirit of the land itself that was at war.


    Yet when he came to Calacosh, he knew that the war had not yet arrived here. Misery and horrible depression were well-established. Stronger even than any place he had seen until now. A palisade of stakes surrounded the village. Yet it had been broken in several places. Several of the stone buildings looked to have been broken inward. The entire site radiated despair of such purity and depth that it hurt.


    He wanted to lie down and wither away. Or draw out his sword and fall on it. Or better yet, turn and run. William had become well accustomed to horror and despair in his adventures. He knew there was a difference between wanting to do something and doing it. But it was sorely tempting.


    How did these people stand it?


    As he approached the gate, he saw a lone man hacking firewood on a stump. As he approached, the man looked up and raised his axe. "Stop! Who goes there? Don''t come any closer now, you hear me!"


    "Calm yourself," said William. "I am not your enemy. I am here to help."


    "Help?" asked the man. "We''ve had none of that since those damn cultists raised an altar to Elranor. Now giants are devouring us one household at a time, and the Iron Kingdom has sent no aid. Who are you that wants to help?" He practically spat the last word.


    "I am William Gabriel," said William. "Elranor has sent me to slay the demon." Not true, of course. But Elranor would probably be fine with taking the credit. Probably.


    "That is mighty dangerous talk," said the man darkly. "You could be crucified just for saying it."


    "Perhaps," said William. "But that would still leave the problem of the giant."


    "That it would," said he, and the man lowered his axe. "Well, if you want to die trying to stop it, you can be my guest. But you won''t find any hospitality from me. You''ll be better off trying some way up. Old Chief Anna is the sort you are looking for. He lives by the pillar at the top of the hill."


    "My thanks," said William, and he walked past.


    "Just don''t go telling no one I directed you to him!" called the man. "Last thing I want is to be associated with your kind."


    "A friendly welcome if ever there was one," murmured William as he entered the village. The first thing he noticed as he entered was the black pillar. It stood at the very center of town, and it was far larger than normal. It almost seemed to leer at him. "There''s the pillar. I wonder if I might get that thing torn down somehow. A question for later."


    He saw a single building right behind the pillar. It was larger than the others, with an upright horizontal shape. It had a pointed, shingled roof instead of the straw that other buildings had. The stone was less rough, and bells were hanging from the doorway. The aura of the pillar seemed less in that place. As if some power within kept it back.


    William came to it. He knocked on the door lightly and waited.


    Eventually, a slit opened before him. Two eyes, one maimed, stared out at a wrinkled face. "Yes?"


    "Are you Chieftain Anna?" asked William.


    "I am," said the man. "Who are you? Dressed like an Einheroth?"


    "I am William Gabriel," said William. "I have come by the will of Elranor to protect your village from the giants."


    The slit shut, and the door opened. Out came a very thin, old man with braided white hair. He breathed in relief and set his hands on William''s shoulder. "Thank Elranor. I knew salvation would come sooner or later. Many others had lost hope. Come in, come in, I''ll provide you with what hospitality I can. Though it isn''t much."


    He let go and walked in. William followed into a room with a floor of wooden boards. There was a table at the center and a fireplace at the far end. Stone steps led upwards to the second floor. Anna had him seated, and William took off his helm. Anna brought him wine, and William awkwardly drank it as the man sat down across from him.


    "My thanks," said William. "Perhaps you can describe these giants for me?"


    "They are led by a half-demon," said Anna."One bred from Fortenex''s union with an ogress, or so I guess. He is nearly ten feet tall and has claws like daggers and teeth like speartips. Every night it comes to devour someone, sometimes two or three.


    "His two friends come less frequently. They are smaller and have hands more like you or I. They wield clubs. No one who has opposed them has thus far lived."


    "Well, I suppose it is left to me then, isn''t it?" said William, liking this plan less and less. Then he noticed something in one corner. It was an altar, and beyond it was a clay image of Elranor. "Tell me, how long have there been shrines to Elranor?"


    "Every since the Iron Kingdom abandoned us," said Anna. "When they catch you once, they burn the shrines and make examples of worshippers. When they catch you twice, they leave you for the wolves. Or the giants, as the case may be."


    "And why did you choose to continue?" asked William.


    "Our faith was more important to us than our lives. Or some of us," said Anna. "Some of us liked the idea of surviving on our own, without fear of the Iron Kingdom taking men and money from us. We had a brief period of prosperity after they left, but then the giants came."


    "Well, I hope I can help with that," said William. "When does this monster usually come?"


    "He comes through the eastern path one night every week," said Anna. "Sometimes, on bad days, he brings friends, and they feast. If you sleep now, I will wake you when he is about to arrive. Then you will be well-rested when you face him.


    "But, would you like to make a speech?"


    "Make a speech?" asked William.


    "Yes, boast of your future deeds," said Anna.


    "I''d rather not get anyone''s hopes up," admitted William. "I''ll boast when the creature is dead if I''m feeling up to it." Which he probably wouldn''t. "And if he comes with several giants, I may need to use some pragmatic methods to win."


    "You are not like the warriors of Viokinar," noted Anna.


    "No, I am not," agreed William.


    "Then, I shall prepare a bed for you," said Anna. "It is late."


    William slept comfortably that night. He hadn''t realized how exhausted he''d become from traveling on the road. He was wakened by Anna later. Looking out the window, he saw the dawn coming out on the horizon.


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    "Are you awake?" asked Anna. "The time is nearly here."


    William nodded. "Very well. Help me with my armor."


    And that was how he found himself standing in the town square, blade in hand and a shield on his arm, waiting. Nothing seemed likely to happen at once, but the air had a tenseness. Anna stood by him. "Tell me, why do you wear armor like that of an Einheroth?" he asked suddenly. sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Coincidence," admitted William. "This armor is supposed to inspire fear in my enemies. It was made far away from Viokinar."


    "I see," said Anna.


    "Do you suppose the creature will be willing to fight me?" asked William.


    "What do you mean?" asked Anna.


    "Well, if he is much larger than me, he probably has a faster stride," mused William. "He could try and snatch someone, then run off before I could fight him."


    "...It is possible," conceded Anna.


    The conversation died as he heard a thudding sound. The ground shuddered beneath him. Then it came again. And again. And out of the forest emerged a humanoid creature ten feet tall or more. Its feet were bare, and it was totally hairless with a large belly and many muscles. Its jaw was wide, and its eyes were small. He lumbered forward with a massive club in hand. And then came goblins. Dozens and dozens of goblins.


    They swarmed toward Calacosh, and William looked at Anna. "You didn''t say he had goblins with him."


    "He never has goblins with him," said Anna. "This is the first time!"


    William remembered the goblins descriptions of what they got up to. "Get the people to safety. I''ll try to stall them."


    And he rushed down to the breach in the wall. Coming to a halt, he raised his sword and muttered an incantation to the Sun Spirit. His sword let loose a wave of light, and the goblins screeched and fled backward. As they did this, the huge creature lumbering behind them began whacking one with his club. The goblins turned and ran back toward William.


    They halted, spears in hand, trapped between their master and an enemy. But he''d have to fight them now. Unless...


    "Foul demon!" cried William. "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel! I am a paladin of Elranor and servant of righteousness! I challenge you to single combat! Or are you so craven that you must cower behind the shields of goblins!


    "Come forth! Come forth Lord of Slaughter! Come and face your end as men should!"


    There was silence as the tallest of the giants lumbered forward and scratched his head. "Grendesh not understand tiny Einheroth. What he saying?"


    William paused. Perhaps he had been too verbose. "I wish to face you personally without the assistance of outside parties."


    "Grendesh still not get," said Grendesh.


    "I want to stab you to death, and you''re too scared to fight me fair," said William.


    "Grendesh not need cheat!" cried Grendesh. "Grendesh send goblin slaves first, then eat bodies!"


    "Goblins not sign up to be eaten!" screeched a goblin.


    "Grendesh only eats if goblins fail," said Grendesh. "If goblins kill, Grendesh let goblins eat what he not eat!"


    "Whole village?" asked the goblins in wonder.


    "Yes. Whole village," said Grendesh. "Now kill tiny Einheroth!"


    The goblins scuttled forward, and everything seemed to go in slow motion. At the very least, the giants seemed content to watch. He couldn''t fight them all at once, and the breach was too wide to use a chokepoint.


    William raised his shield. Swinging his sword, he cleaved one of the goblins in twain, then backed away, warding off their spears. He slashed down another and kept on moving, doing his best to try and keep from getting hemmed in. His sword flashed in the light, and two more goblins fell headless.


    At this point, the goblins stepped back. Looking at the bodies of their fellows, they did the intelligent thing and ran for it. William let them go. At least this way Grendesh might just eat his fill and leave. Assuming William lost. Which he probably would.


    "Come back, tiny goblins!" cried Grendesh. "Or you get no food! Get back!"


    The goblins did not listen. They were now more afraid of William than Grendesh, and they scuttled off into the woods. Grendesh turned to look at William with narrowed eyes and slapped his club against the palm of his hand. William walked forward and brandished his sword.


    "Your minions are destroyed or put to flight," said William. "Depart now or face their fate."


    "Grendesh not understand again," said Grendesh in annoyance.


    "Leave now, or I will cut you into pieces," said William.


    "Grendesh, no fear! Grendesh son of Fortenex!" cried Grendesh "GRENDESH SMASH!!"


    Then Grendesh roared and charged forward with his club. William ducked under the blow and slashed at his enemy''s leg. But Grendesh moved aside with surprising grace and brought around his club again. William nearly lost his head at that time. He jabbed at the huge beast; he found his enemy once again stepping aside.


    They circled each other, and Grendesh''s club fell again and again. Whenever he struck the ground, it made a small crater within. Meanwhile, William could not hit him. The giant was just too swift.


    Finally, Grendesh brought up a leg and kicked him. William caught the leg on his shield but was thrown back. He rolled away just in time to avoid being crushed by the club. Slashing upwards, he caught Grendesh in the arm. His blade sank deep into it, and the hand came off at the wrist.


    The giant reeled back, screaming in pain. Turning, he fled weeping into the forest, leaving behind him a long trail of blood. William stood and saw the bloodied hand lying at his feet. Without healing magic, Grendesh would probably die soon.


    At that moment, the people of Calacosh were coming out. Seeing the massive dead hand, they cheered aloud. "The demon is dead! Elranor''s servant has slain him!" cried Anna. "I told you our prayers would be answered!"


    "I wouldn''t celebrate just yet. I only cut his hand off," muttered William. "We should be on our guard in case he returns."


    "Still, it is our first victory!" said Anna. "We shall mount the hand at the gates so that all can know of what you have done. We will tell tales of your victory here today."


    "Well, that is very nice, but can I have some water?" asked William, feeling suddenly parched.


    "Um, yes, of course," said Anna.


    He was brought a cup of water and downed it quickly. Then he drew off his helmet and wiped the sweat from it. "Thank you. Fighting these creatures is thirsty work."


    "You are not at all as we expected," admitted Anna.


    "I suppose not. I don''t enjoy boasting of my achievements. If I were you, I would be careful about how you boast of mine," said William. "Elranor has delivered you, but it is not his will that you should die by the hands of the Iron Kingdom.


    "Be silent in your faith. Serve him through your deeds and in your hearts, and talk only where and when it is safe to do so.


    "Now, if you could cast down that pillar, I will heal any injured or sick people in this village."


    Dead silence. "You would have us cast down the pillar?" asked Anna.


    In his heart, William felt as though the pillar must be cast down. Now, and not later. Something urgent was about to happen, and this village could suffer terribly. "Yes. It is keeping out the gods. Only once they are destroyed can Elranor, and the Gods return."


    "But, if we break it, the Iron Kingdom will destroy us all," said a woman. "They''ll kill every man, woman, and child. The last time someone did that, they didn''t even stop at the village responsible. They crucified everyone in the region!"


    "I see," said William. The persistence pressed him further, but he could see no reason to argue further. "You could say that the giant did it." There was that feeling that he was making a mistake. But they were uneasy. "Instead, pray to Elranor for deliverance. In time he will find means to free you."


    "Anna, soldiers approach!" cried someone. "They bear the symbol of the Iron Kingdom."


    "Elranor helps us," said Anna. "Quickly, everyone back to the village. William, you will hide within my home. You must not let them see you."


    William followed him without thinking, and it wasn''t long before he saw a troop of men approaching. Yet only a few were soldiers like those he had seen with Byran. These men went clad in leather armor. They held spears and knives and some axes meant for wood rather than necks.


    As he reached the doorway of Anna''s home, he halted and cursed himself. "Damn it. I should have made for the forest while I had a chance."


    "Too late now," said Anna. "Stay hidden. I''ll go and meet with them, and you may make your escape later." Then he shut the door. William went to a window and peered out of the crack. The soldiers had reached the house now. They were led by a dwarven woman wearing a long curved sword at her side. Anna approached and prostrated himself. "Soldiers of the Iron Kingdom, we are honored by your presence."


    "I am Lady Raka Asteem," said the woman. "My men and I have come to assist you against the demon terrorizing this place." Her gaze turned to the sight of the battle. "However, I see someone has already beaten us to it."


    "A wandering hero," said Anna. "Long since gone from here."


    "Really? I beg to differ," said Raka. "Those bodies are recent. Freshly killed. Whoever did this would still be nearby. Which begs the question, why are you lying to me, chieftain?"


    "...He was fearful of discovery," said Anna. "After he killed the demon, he requested I claim he was long gone to any who asked. Since he had just saved our village, I chose not to question him. We did not think any help was coming."


    "That was foolish. One must always question everything," said Raka. "Where is he now?"


    "I..." began Anna. "I do not know."


    "I disagree," said Raka, setting a hand to her blade. "I must insist you tell me."


    "He has-" began Anna.


    William had seen enough. If he waited any longer, someone could die. He opened the door and walked out, sword sheathed. "That''s enough. I''m here."


    Raka glanced up. "Who are you?"


    "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel," said William. "I have traveled far. This village was in need and on the way, so I assisted them. My only goal is to get home."


    "And why did you request they lie about your presence?" asked Raka.


    "An old enemy of mine has a position of influence in this place," said William. "I do not want to alert them to my presence."


    "That is unfortunate," said Raka. "While I appreciate you defending the Iron Kingdom''s subjects, I must take you into custody. Throw down your sword."


    William drew the blade and eyed the men around him. Then he cast it down and, with it, his shield. "As you wish. But first, know that I am being tracked. My Father is a man of immense power. I have no doubt he knows of everything that transpires. If I am killed, then he will know."


    Raka drew up the sword and eyed the blade. Then her eyes widened. "You''ve put me in a difficult position."


    "That was the intended purpose," said William.


    "Take him into custody. But see to it that he is treated with all dignity," said Raka. "Tomorrow, we''ll send him to the Iron City for the Council to decide on."


    It could have been worse. Not much worse, though.

 Chapter 276 - Twenty-two: Hardship

    Kiyora woke up in bed and found the morning light drifting through the window. Brushing her hair out of her face, she looked around and at her arms. No white sheets like in a hospital, no crisp white walls, no suicide-proof windows. Just her normal books and videos. "And no IVs. That''s good."


    Dressing, she made her way downstairs. Mom was cooking breakfast, as always. "Good morning, Mom."


    "Oh, good morning Kiyora," said Mom. "Did you sleep well?"


    "Yeah, I had some really crazy adventures, actually," said Kiyora. "Mind control, scheming, and stuff. I kind of expected to wake up in the hospital or something."


    "Well, I''m happy to say it is only the morning afterward. You''ve more than your share of adventures for a lifetime," said Mom. She used the pink spatula Dad bought to separate mushrooms from finely sliced onions. "I heard from your father, by the way. He should be back by tomorrow."


    "Oh, that''s great," said Kiyora. "Um, about my question?"


    "You wanting to sign up to become a Dream Sage, you mean?" said Mom.


    "Yeah. Um, I mean, I''m already involved in all these things," said Kiyora. "So, I figure some training wouldn''t hurt."


    "I know," said Mom with a sigh. "What happened a few days ago made it clear that you are risking your life no matter what happens. I suppose you must have some training. But I''ve made arrangements."


    "What kind of arrangements?" asked Kiyora, curious.


    "I hired some Dream Sages to set up wards on this house," said Mom. "If any more spider demons make a go at my home, they''ll have a nasty surprise waiting for them."


    "Thanks, Mom," said Kiyora.


    After breakfast, Kiyora printed out a resume for the Department of Spiritual Defense. Then she went into the living room by a window to start filling it out. And Alchara above was it dull. Every moment was an absolute slog, and it was all she could do to keep writing. She set forth the full power of her will, wrestling with the wall of sheer boredom set against her.


    Long did she strive with it. Yet though all her power was set against it, it held against her. At last, Kiyora despaired. She rolled onto her back and into the air was thrown her pen to land on the floor as she let loose a groan of sheer apathy.


    "Alchara above, filling out a resume is boring," said Kiyora. "Dad must be glad he doesn''t have to do it. Ugh..."


    Then she heard a tapping noise on the window. She glanced up and saw Laurus standing there, tapping. "Laurus?" she stood up. "Why are you tapping on my window? Knock the front door like an adult!"


    Laurus disappeared. A few moments later, there was a knock at the door, and Kiyora opened it to see Laurus on the other side. He looked apologetic. There was a bruise on his face. How did he keep getting those? "Sorry, I figured I''d surprise you," he said. "So, was I interrupting something?"


    "No, I''m just working on my resume to apply for a position as a Dream Sage," said Kiyora. "How did you get that bruise?"


    "I uh, I fell," said Laurus.


    It was a lie. And Kiyora had heard it before. That was it; she was going to call him out on it. Something was happening to him to give him those injuries.


    "Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to go out and get coffee together?"


    Kiyora froze. Her heart fluttered. "You mean with the others?"


    "I was actually thinking just us," admitted Laurus.


    "Are you asking me on a date, Laurus?" asked Kiyora, smiling.


    "Yeah, we can call it that," said Laurus, looking away.


    Kiyora considered it. Laurus was pretty nice-looking, come to think of it. It wasn''t sheer raw sex appeal like Arraxia and her sister, and he wasn''t a conquering hero like William. But he was pretty cool and had set a spider demon on fire. "...Sure, but you can''t smoke while we''re doing it."


    "I don''t smoke in restaurants!" said Laurus defensively.


    "Sure, you don''t," said Kiyora.


    "Oh, come on, give me some credit," said Laurus. "Did you see what I did in that mall with a cigarette?"


    "You mean setting Rioletta on fire?" asked Kiyora. "Yeah, that was pretty cool. Tricking her into falling off the balcony was a nice move too. You want to go now?"


    Laurus stuttered. "Yeah, sure."


    They made their way out of the house and along the sidewalk. As they walked, Kiyora considered things. When Tenius had first appeared, Laurus had approached him. Laurus wasn''t ordinarily that friendly. "Hey, Laurus."


    "Yeah?" he asked.


    "Why did you go up to Tenius anyway?" asked Kiyora. "I thought you hated the guy."


    "I don''t hate Tenius. I never did. I just liked mocking him for being completely out of control of his own life," said Laurus. "What could be more pathetic than a life where you get everything you ever wanted without even having to ask?"


    "A lot of things," mused Kiyora. "But I don''t think you''re giving him due credit. I mean, he practices sword combat, doesn''t he?" She''d seen him do it through William''s eyes.


    "I guess," said Laurus. "But what good is sword combat in this day and age? Guns are where it''s at. I mean, remember back in that elevator?" sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''m pretty sure that people with proper training can make guns irrelevant," said Kiyora. "William just didn''t have it."


    "Look, I don''t care how good your training is," said Laurus. "If you are faced with enough guns firing at you all at once, you are going to die."


    "Not spirits, though," said Kiyora. "I mean, I read that spirits and demons and angels are much less affected by guns. Something about them being an impersonal weapon. That''s why they have Dream Sages in the first place."


    "It''s because of spirit," said Laurus.


    "Hmm?" asked Kiyora.


    "When you are swinging a sword at someone, you are focusing your will through it," explained Laurus. "Acts of will damage spirits, not physical things. When you fire a gun, though, it''s a lot harder to put yourself into the bullets. I read about a couple of people who could do it, though."


    "You''ve read up on it?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yeah," said Laurus. "When I was possessed by Laughing Wraith, I was driven to study the techniques of Dream Sages. Well, what I could find was common knowledge. It wasn''t much. Can we talk about something else?"


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    "Sure," said Kiyora, feeling awkward. "Um... you start."


    Laurus bit his lip. "Had any good dreams lately?"


    "Well, I got possessed by an evil demon. Sort of," said Kiyora. "It''s more like our wills are influencing, and we are engaged in a sort of battle for control. The problem is we''re kind of cooperating at the same time. We have some mutual interests."


    "Knitting?" guessed Laurus with a smirk.


    "Shut up," said Kiyora. "I mean realpolitik stuff okay. Like uh, see, we''re both allies with this Duke called Vanion Gabriel. And he''s kind of manipulating everyone in this power play. Well, actually, everyone is manipulating everyone.


    "I''m really not sure who is pulling the strings at this point."


    "I kind of know the feeling," said Laurus. "I''d break off your connection with her. Now. I''m not kidding."


    "What''s the big deal?" asked Kiyora.


    "When Wraith possessed me, I could blend in perfectly. I went about my daily routine, hardly noticing him sometimes," said Laurus. "And then one day I''d find myself doing some innocent little thing. I didn''t know or care that it was part of a scheme to cause all kinds of misery.


    "You don''t notice when they are affecting you. You just act as they want you to."


    "Oh, come on. I can handle it," said Kiyora.


    "When was the last time you went to Seathorius?" asked Laurus.


    "Seathorius?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yeah, the land you rule," said Laurus.


    "I uh, well, it''s actually been a while in dream terms," mused Kiyora.


    "Go there," said Laurus. "See what is happening."


    "Why?" asked Kiyora. "Why is it important to you?"


    "Kiyora, I sometimes remember things. Things which I got from Laughing Wraith," said Laurus with a shrug. "I know that he hated you a lot. He hated you because you were one of his enemies in Seathorius. Your very presence there screwed with him.


    "If someone else is screwing with you, it could be affecting the land itself."


    "...Right, I remember," said Kiyora. "William told me something about that. I''ll go check it out." And she almost turned around before Laurus caught her by the shoulder.


    "Not now," said Laurus. "We''re on a date, remember?"


    "Oh, right," said Kiyora. "Yeah. Sorry."


    Another awkward silence.


    "Hey Laurus!" came a call. "Kiyora!"


    She looked up and saw the last person she wanted to see. It was Tenius approaching them. The boy was clad in a martial artist''s uniform as if he had just finished practice. It looked good on him. Why was Kiyora''s heart skipping a beat? She didn''t even like him, and Laurus had a much better personality.


    Kiyora was now certain of foul play on Alchara''s part.


    "Oh, hello, Tenius," said Laurus in an irritated tone. "How are you?"


    "Pretty good," said Tenius. "I uh, had some of the weirdest dreams a few nights ago. Hey, Kiyora."


    Kiyora pointedly refused to blush. There was an impulse to do so, but it was not entirely her own. She fought it back and rejected it. "Hey."


    Tenius remained silent for a moment. What was it like? Being on the Black Star?"


    "Unpleasant. Very unpleasant," said Kiyora. "The poor thing was begging for death. While I was trapped, I could hear the silent screams of all those trapped within Rioletta''s webs. Why do you ask?"


    "Well, I just have this weird feeling that I... uh, I feel like I was there," said Tenius. "Do you think you could-"


    "We''re kind of on a date, Tenius," said Kiyora.


    "Oh, right, I uh, I''ll just see you at school," Tenius looked like a kicked puppy.


    "Could he be more annoying?" muttered Kiyora as they walked toward the coffee shop.


    "Tenius is sheltered," said Laurus. "I talked to him. Before he came here, he was living somewhere on a mountain. Everyone he knew was either an older male relative or an attractive female trying to bang him. He hasn''t really lived in the real world until now.


    "Apparently, he went to another school before this one. It didn''t end well for him."


    "You don''t know the half of it," muttered Kiyora as they entered the shop.


    "What do you mean?" asked Laurus.


    "I''ll tell you in a minute," said Kiyora. And she suddenly thought she knew more about what had happened than she thought. Odd. "Let''s order our coffee first."


    Kiyora did not tell him for a minute. She changed the subject to anything except Tenius. They ordered their coffee and talked about minor things. When they finished their coffee, they went to see many other things, a museum and a fair. It was fun, and at the end of it, Laurus walked her back home.


    The sun was setting by that point.


    And to Kiyora''s surprise, Dad was painting on the front porch. Kiyora and Laurus halted here, and she looked to him. "This was fun, Laurus. Thank you." She considered kissing him on the cheek. But she hesitated, and before she could decide the moment was lost. "We should do this again sometime."


    Kiyora and Laurus made their way up to Dad. His paintbrush was wet and in his hand. However, his canvass was blank. His eyes narrowed, and he did not notice her as he bit his lip.


    She tapped him on the shoulder. He started and looked up to see her. "Oh, hello, Kiyora!"


    "Dad, what are you doing back so early?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, I felt I ought to return as quickly as possible," said Dad. "So, I ended things earlier and came back. Laurus, how are you?"


    "Oh, I''m fine," said Laurus. "Kiyora, I have to head back."


    "Right, see you later," said Kiyora.


    Laurus looked like he wanted to say more. But he just smiled. "Right."


    Kiyora watched him go then looked at Dad. "So, how is the painting going?"


    "Awful, if I must be honest," said Dad. "This canvass is resisting me."


    "Resisting you?" asked Kiyora. "What do you mean?"


    "Well, sometimes, when you are making art, you find yourself facing a blank page. No matter what you do, you simply can''t get it to become anything else," said Dad. "It is perhaps the greatest foe any artist can face."


    "So how do you beat it?" asked Kiyora.


    "You use it. Hardship is the source of all great stories," said Dad. "A story where nothing goes wrong is not at all interesting. You must take the troubles you face and learn from them. Without a struggle, nothing is worth having."


    "So how are you going to fix this?" asked Kiyora.


    "I have no idea. I''ve been staring at this wall for an hour," said Dad with a smile. "I haven''t been able to climb it or break it down. The people beyond it are most unpleasant and won''t open the gates. I suppose I could focus on the outside of the wall, but that would still leave a great blank spot."


    "Wall?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, you see, I''m thinking of making a sequel to a previous piece I made," said Dad. "Look over there. What do you think?" He motioned to a canvass he had set aside. Kiyora looked at it.


    What she saw was the Iron Kingdom. More specifically, the Iron City. It stood tall and proud and forlorn beneath the gaze of a figure clad in steel armor who stood atop a high tower. In his hand was a great broadsword. "It''s... very nice. What is it?"


    "A formidable city at the center of a broken kingdom," said Dad. "It holds dominion over all who surround it and keep them in an iron grip. They have many enemies. Yet their fortifications are high enough that they can withstand them all.


    "Cheer and goodwill are shut out by these columns. So long as the city stands, this Kingdom will remain as it is, slowly decaying but never dying. Existing but never living, It simply fades, little by little, as the world around it moves on."


    "So what are you going to do?" asked Kiyora.


    "...Well, I can''t think of a natural way to bring down the city, so I''m just going to paint a dragon burning it down," admitted Dad.


    "That seems a bit random," mused Kiyora. "You''ve never painted dragons before."


    "Well, I feel dragons are overused," admitted Dad. "But making one a mindless and bloodthirsty monster intent on destruction? That sounds rather original to me."


    "It''ll be a bit hard on the people who live in the city," mused Kiyora.


    "Well, of course, the city won''t be completely destroyed," said Dad. "Its walls will be torn down and its fortifications ruined. But a destined hero could appear and defeat the creature. Then the hero forces the Kingdom into the world."


    "Isn''t there a way to do that without burning down the city?" asked Kiyora.


    "Perhaps. Perhaps not. I sometimes wonder if demons and monsters and all those truly defy the gods," said Dad. "Or if they merely carry out their will indirectly."


    "What do you mean?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, suffering is very unpleasant while it lasts," said Dad. "But sometimes a bit of pain can spur one into changing for the better. If you never lose anything, you wouldn''t appreciate anything you had."


    "Dad, that doesn''t make sense at all," said Kiyora. "There are a lot of people who suffer and don''t come out better for it."


    "Perhaps. I''m merely thinking out loud," said Dad. "Now, how shall I make this dragon? It should be like a snake, almost cobralike. With eyes like fire. Tormented eyes filled with pain. Its breath should be death, its teeth, and claws like swords. The beating of its wings should create whirlwinds.


    "Yes, that will be very impressive."


    "How is anyone supposed to kill something like that?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, obviously, by wielding the very powers that this city has suppressed until now," said Dad. "The dragon is a sort of reckoning, a representation of the people''s sins. The hero is salvation, offered freely by the powers they forsake."


    "You mean the powers which sent the dragon attacking them in the first place?" asked Kiyora. "Sounds to me like they had a good reason for forsaking them."


    "You are overthinking this a bit, Kiyora. There isn''t a storyline to these paintings," said Dad. "Anyone who looks at them may draw whatever conclusion they want about them."


    "Right. I''m going to read for a bit, okay," said Kiyora.


    "Of course," said Dad, "have fun." Then he paused. "Oh, before you go, there is one other painting I''d like to show you. I made it on the trip here." He stood and drew out another canvass and showed it to her. "What do you think?"


    Kiyora stared and saw a picture of Felix. The boy was standing before that same Iron Figure, a box in his hands. The Iron Figure must have been a giant, for his thigh was taller than Felix was. Massacre was lying on the ground, bleeding from the side, her head limp. All the world was utterly bleak, and the blade of the Iron King was falling to strike down Felix.


    "...Oh damn," said Kiyora.

 Chapter 277 - Twenty-three: Rescue

    William had been led with his hands bound along another road. Four soldiers of the Iron Kingdom guarded him. The air was tense, as though awaiting change. He sensed the liveliness that had seeped into the trees before had been beaten back. Yet it was still there, waiting below the surface and waiting to explode outward.


    His guards dragged him along none too gently. Some of them eyed his weapons and equipment as they were carried. The looks made him suspect they had no intention of letting him live. He did not see much reason why they would know to fear Duke Vanion Gabriel. Though they surely would if they knew how powerful Father was.


    But they did not. Which meant William had to free himself or die here. He writhed his hands in their bindings as they made their way along. He could feel them straining.


    "We''re far enough now, aren''t we?" said a soldier. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No. Not yet. Some of the villagers might find him," said another. "Let''s go a little way on." Stay calm. Keep stretching the restraints. They were yielding.


    "The armor is nice, isn''t it?" asked one.


    "I want the sword," said another.


    "Both of you shut up," said the leader. "These weapons and armor are going to the Iron Council. They''ll decide what to do with it." He paused and looked to a mournful stump. "That''s far enough. Force him to kneel by that stump."


    "I was led to believe your orders were to take me captive," said William, stalling as he strained his bindings. It wouldn''t do him any good to fight them. But he might escape. He''d lose his armor and sword, but those could be replaced.


    "That was only for the benefit of the villagers," said the soldier. "Raka can''t have us be seen killing their savior. So we''ll cut your head off here and leave your body for the wolves in the woods. No one will be the wiser.


    "The Iron Council gave orders that you be killed if found."


    "May I ask why?" asked William.


    How the hell should I know?" asked the soldier. "Grab him!"


    And then the man stiffened. William saw someone standing, hidden by the leader''s form, but an elegant blade was visible. Then the leader''s head fell from his shoulders, and his body collapsed, spewing blood.


    "Kill him!" cried one of the soldiers. "I''ll guard the prisoner!"


    Two of them rushed forward, but their blades were parried, and their throats were cut. Blood spewed over the attacker. The one guarding him backed away toward William. William broke his restraints and wrapped the rope around the man''s throat as he did. The man struggled, and then a blade passed through his stomach and another through his heart.


    The swords were an inch from William''s torso. He threw down the body and stepped back. He would need to find a weapon and- Tanith?


    Tanith was standing in front of him with a cheerful expression. A huge grin was on her face, and her eyes were bright. She was also drenched in blood and gore from the men she had just butchered. "Hey, Will!"


    "Tanith, what are you doing here?" asked William. "You''re supposed to be escorting the Axe of Fortenex!"


    "Well, you know what they say about best-laid plans," said Tanith, wiping her blade off the grass. "Not that I''m complaining. I haven''t had a chance to kill anything in months. Do you want to get your armor on, or do you need my help?"


    "Hang on," said William.


    As he donned his armor with her help, he reflected on how grateful he was to have a friend in her. Not many people would come out here. When he was finished, he looked up at Tanith. "Do you think someone will come looking for them?"


    "I doubt it," admitted Tanith. "The Iron Kingdom is short-staffed. Frankly, they are dead in the water at this point."


    "Where are Felix and Massacre?" asked William. "And Hrungeld?"


    "As I said, it''s a long story. Let''s talk about it a bit further on," said Tanith. "I like blood, but it can get old."


    William finished donning his armor and sword and retrieved his personal effects. Then they walked on. Tanith kept them going at a hard pace and found he could hardly keep up with her. When they were children, she always ran ahead and even walked; she did it quickly. Finally, he stopped.


    "This is far enough," said William. She stopped. "Now, Tanith, I need you to tell me everything. And I do mean everything. Tell it to me like you were making a mission report to my father."


    "Why?" asked Tanith. "Oh, right, the scrying runes. Alright, I''ll tell you everything I know."


    "First, let''s start a fire," said William. "It is getting cold."


    They gathered sticks and dried leaves and lit the fire, though it took several tries. Felix would have had it done easily. Then Tanith told him just what she had been up to. Tanith and Hrungeld had been taken captive by the Iron Kingdom, which was horrible. Fortunately, Kiyora had freed them and wakened the trees. That much was good news. But even that came with its troubling news.


    "So Kiyora has fallen under Arraxia''s sway," said William.


    "She didn''t seem all that beat up about it," admitted Tanith.


    "That is Arraxia''s way," said William. "When she takes control, you don''t notice. Everything seems natural to you, as though obeying her were breathing."


    "Creepy," said Tanith, sounding more interested by the second.


    "You don''t know the half of it," said William.


    "So when she had you under her control, did you two do anything?" asked Tanith curiously.


    "What?" said William.


    "Just curious. I mean, from how you talk about her-" began Tanith.


    "No!" said William, horrified at the implication. "I would never!"


    "Fine, you don''t need to get so touchy," said Tanith. "Well, I''ve told you my story. What about you?"


    William told her his tale. She listened carefully to the story of Lucius and the Withering King. She paid particular attention to the description of the corpses throughout the tunnels. When he came to the Einheroth he had freed, she laughed outright.


    "You felt sorry for an undead?" she asked.


    "Yes," said William.


    "You are a sap, you know that," said Tanith, slapping him across the back.


    "I am well aware," said William. "At any rate, after the creature abandoned me, I convinced some goblins that I was an Einheroth. They led me out by a side entrance, though it was a very near thing."


    "Oh?" asked Tanith. "Did you feel sorry for them, too?"


    "I was hoping that the Withering King would find out and have them all killed," said William. "They steal babies from cradles."


    "Well, it looks like you have some aggression after all," said Tanith. "I''m proud of you."


    "Don''t patronize me, Tanith," snapped William.


    "Fine, fine, what do we do now?" said Tanith, still smiling.


    "Well, I suppose we should find Felix and Massacre and get out of here," said William. "However, Kiyora being imprisoned is a problem. If the Iron Kingdom manages to break her to their will, they will have power, Seathorius.


    "I wish I knew how Father would react to all this. It would make my plans much easier to make."


    "Well, if I were him," said Tanith, "I''d ally with the Viokin Minotaurs. Then launch a two-pronged invasion of the Iron Kingdom. Rape, pillage, burn, have a celebration, and bring colonists in to take the place of the people we killed off."


    "I''m sure the Iron Kingdom would be hard put to it," said William. "But I don''t think he would even need the minotaurs. All Father would have to do is bring a token force, and he could rally the locals to destroy this place on his behalf."


    "You haven''t seen the fortifications on the Iron City, Will," said Tanith. "They are no joke. I guess that they''ll abandon the villages and hole up in there until the storm blows over. No one can attack them from the sea, either."


    "Maybe not. But no city can hold out against a siege forever," mused William. "The Iron Kingdom is doomed."


    "You sure?" asked Tanith.


    "Absolutely," said William. "They have no gods to assist them. They have alienated all their neighbors. If you noticed their weakness, then so has Hrungeld. Sooner or later, the minotaurs will get it into their heads to take this land. When that happens, who will resist them?


    "Their forces are spread thin. Their populace fears and despises them. They are facing overwhelming odds. Those odds will worsen if they suffer even a single major defeat." And worst of all, they probably don''t even know it."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Tanith.


    "Think, Tanith. They knew who I was," said William. "Arraxia told them about me. I am the son of one of the most powerful people in Harlenor. They could have taken me as an honored guest. Then they could have politely asked me to go to father and get him to send help. Kiyora would have helped too.


    "Instead, they have made me their enemy."


    "I don''t see them being doomed," said Tanith. "I mean, they could still hold out."


    "History is filled with heroes who held out against overwhelming odds," said William. "But what they all had in common was motivation. No one I''ve met in this place is motivated. They regard atrocity and tragedy as daily facts of life.


    "It would take a miracle for anyone to win a war on two fronts in this situation. And they''ve shut out the gods."


    "So, what do you think will happen?" asked Tanith.


    "Well, in a best-case scenario, Byran will stop the Einheroth cold," said William. "If he does that and draws back his hand, he could get some breathing room. He might consolidate his hold over the villagers by training them.


    "At which point, he would only need to say the word, and he could make himself King. If he did that and passed some reforms, I could see them growing stronger. But they tried to steal the Axe of Fortenex. An artifact so deadly that King Andoa personally wrote to request it be sent to Antion. Antion has perfect reasons to declare war."


    "They might not," said Tanith.


    "Why wouldn''t they?" asked William. "We could invade this place, conquer it, and colonize it with our people."


    "Andoa II is pretty opposed to offensive wars," said Tanith. "He''s gotten a bit weak in his old age."


    "Even if he is, this is only if Byran stops the Einheroth," said William. "He might be cut down and destroyed. If that happens, they haven''t a prayer.


    "And even if Father doesn''t invade, what of the minotaurs? Hrungeld has surely guessed as much as you. He knows the Iron Kingdom is weak. If they invade, it''s over."


    "What makes you so sure the Viokins will win?" asked Tanith.


    "I spent a few days in a far-flung village of the Viokin Minotaurs. It was considered one of their smaller and more obscure places. The village I just left, in the heartland of the Iron Kingdom, was tiny in comparison." said William. "The average minotaur will crush the average human in a fight every time. The Viokins will have both strength and numbers.


    "This is all guesswork, of course. And it could be completely wrong. I have only my own experiences to judge by, but they line up with yours. And it paints a grim picture of the future. It also doesn''t answer the question. What do we do?"


    "Well, we should probably Felix and Massacre first," said Tanith. "Once we have the Axe, we can think about getting it out of here before the fire starts."


    "But that''s just it. We can''t," said William. "Even if I was willing to abandon every man, woman, and child in this kingdom to oblivion, I couldn''t. I can''t leave Kiyora in the Iron Kingdom''s thrall."


    "What can we do?" asked Tanith. "Look, I''m all for slaughtering my way through an entire army, I wish I could do it, but I''ve got limits. And we don''t even know how we could free her. The pillars are doing it, but we don''t have time to cast down every single one."


    "It is thus fortunate that you have a being of my power and benevolence to assist you," said a voice.


    Arraxia stepped out of the trees and into the light of the fire.


    Tanith threw a dagger at her.

 Chapter 278 - Twenty-four: Reunited

    Arraxia dodged aside from the dagger, but Tanith was on her, duel swords in hand. Her tail lashed out and dodged one of Tanith''s blades. The demoness'' bosom heaved with the movement. Arraxia grabbed Tanith by one hand as Tanith''s blonde hair flew around her. The blade was held in place. Tanith brought around her blade to strike at her neck. Arraxia stepped back before Tanith kicked Arraxia in the chest. As her steel boot hit the demoness, her enemy returned to smash against a tree. As she recovered, Tanith went at her with duel swords.


    Arraxia ducked under the blades that would have beheaded her. The blades cut clean into the bark of the trees without slowing. The demoness slashed with a claw at Tanith, but the girl leaped back, stance ready. For a moment, they stood in place, gazing at one another. Arraxia smiled as they circled.


    "As violent as ever, I see," said Arraxia. "You really should listen to your master''s words on this. I''d hate for you to choke on your leash."


    "Let me show you just how violent I can be, demoness," said Tanith in a tone of bloodlust.


    "Enough," said William, who had not expected her to show up again sooner or later. This fight was wholly pointless and served to achieve nothing. So he rose in his armor with a hand on his sword. "Tanith, step back. She may have something of value to say."


    Tanith stepped back but did not sheathe her swords. "Whatever you say, William."


    "Arraxia," said William. "What do you want?"


    "Why, to provide you a means by which you can free your precious Dreaming Goddess, of course," said Arraxia. She was leaning forward and cupping his cheek.


    "From you, you mean," said William, shifting from her grip.


    "But of course," said Arraxia, tail flicking around her waist. "In truth, you should thank me. Our wills are combined through Baltoth''s Retribution. Since I am wholly immune to the pillars, some of that immunity passes to her."


    William didn''t believe it for a second. "And I suppose that makes you wholly blameless in all things. And that you have only the best intentions. Shall I ignore your blatant ambitions while you ready the knife to drive into my back?"


    "I would ever so appreciate it if you could," said Arraxia, walking past him with swaying hips. The crescent tip of her tail moved past his throat. "It will be just like that wonderful trip you made to Gel Carn."


    "I will not," said William, keeping his gaze on her. "What are you proposing, and how do you mean to achieve it?"


    "The source of the power of the pillars is an artifact known as the Void Stone. It fell from the stars many centuries ago and lies deep within the palace of the Iron King," said Arraxia. She leaped onto a branch, lay on one side, sticking a hip out, head supported on a claw. "Destroy it, and you will break the spell over the Iron Kingdom. Your gods will be able to enter it once more. They can do their insufferable godly things in all their hypocritical glory." Her tail flipped.


    "Ah," said William. "And what do you gain out of all this?"


    "Wouldn''t you like to know that?" asked Arraxia mockingly.


    William had had enough. "No. I will not cooperate until you tell me what you intend to gain from all this?"


    "Oh, very well," said Arraxia. "It isn''t as though my will can be thwarted. I hope you will create enough distraction for me to achieve my true agenda. More than that, I will not tell you. And if you don''t cooperate after that, I''ll set the Iron Kingdom on Felix and Massacre and find another way."


    "You know where they are?" said William.


    "But, of course," said Arraxia. "And if you help me, I''ll bring you to them. Really, have I ever once broken my word?"


    "You seem to have pledged loyalty to the Iron Kingdom," noted William. "And you''ve certainly broken that."


    "Ah, but I never pledged loyalty," said Arraxia. "I merely agreed to serve until such a time as it was no longer convenient. It is not my responsibility if they assume my loyalty is farther than that."


    "Lead me to Felix and Massacre first," said William. "As a show of good faith."


    "Well, you do drive a hard bargain, don''t you?" asked Arraxia. "So be it. Follow me."


    Arraxia walked into the trees and motioned. William looked to Tanith, whose blades were resting on her shoulders. She nodded, and they pressed on after her.


    "So this Void Stone," said Tanith. "Where does it come from?"


    "Oh, I''m not entirely sure," admitted Arraxia. "I''m only glad it isn''t called the Iron Stone. It is rather unpleasant looking. It fell from the sky hundreds of years ago and emanates disbelief."


    "Disbelief?" asked Tanith, raising an eyebrow.


    "Yes, gods draw their power from belief," said Arraxia. "They cannot act without worshippers."


    "Not true at all," said William. "Gods don''t gain power from worship. Rather worship gives them the authority to use their power to perform miracles. There is a difference."


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    "Not really. If you cannot enact your will upon the universe, then you have no power," said Arraxia. And she summoned a black flame into one hand for emphasis. "A single mortal can have more power than the most triumphant gods. Assuming more people listen to what he says and his will is done."


    "I didn''t know you had such a high opinion of mortals," mused William.


    "I don''t," said Arraxia, crushing the flame in one hand. "Mortals are like a blank canvas. Or a block of wood. Some of them are made into one thing. Some of them are made into another. Still, others become unusable for anything and must be thrown away.


    "Of course, the Iron Kingdom doesn''t regard it like that. In their ideal world, all the painters would be locked out of their workrooms."


    "How unexpectedly contemplative of you," said William. "At any rate, I assume you want the Iron Kingdom intact at the end of this?"


    "But, of course," said Arraxia. "There isn''t much point in ruling if everyone else is dead."


    William suspected that to be a lie as well. Arraxia could probably get on perfectly well talking o a mirror for a few years. It seemed her ideal companion.


    "You can have it," said Tanith. "This place is a hellhole. Getting set on fire could only improve it."


    "Now that is uncalled for," said Arraxia. "Hell has a great deal more agony and impaled corpses." S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Tanith," said William, "the Iron Kingdom is keeping the Withering King in check. If they were wiped out, the undead could spread to the surface. In which case, the Withering Might become a threat once again. And even if they didn''t, I''d rather the Viokins not dispose of one of their major enemies. They may find Harlenor an ideal secondary target."


    "Oh right," said Tanith. "Let''s find Felix then."


    There was a feral screeching noise at that moment, and William felt a sudden presence. Out of the trees surged many snake-like creatures with the heads of beetles and arms like scythes. William drew out his sword, warded off a scythe, and lowered his blade to cleave the skull. Tanith cut two in half while stepping past their attacks. Arraxia''s tail slashed several to ribbons in moments.


    William had several gobs of acid spew toward him. Stepping aside, he caught the spatters on his shield and cleaved a neck. The blade sank deep and cut full through. Another he ran through as it lunged, nearly losing his footing. More came, and soon the ground was riddled with the monsters'' corpses. At last, no more were there.


    William sighed and kneeled to wipe the blood from his sword on the grass. "Not again. What are raishans doing here?"


    "Dying from the looks of things," said Arraxia. "The barrier between the worlds must weaken if these things can wander in."


    "How could it break so quickly?" asked William.


    "A lack of support from the gods goes a long way," said Arraxia.


    Suddenly they heard a roar and a sound like thunder. They made for it at once. They came through a clearing and found many raishans ripped to shreds by claws and teeth. Others had been burned to ashes. Yet there was no sign of what did this. A lion ripped these things to shreds, and some of these things were burned. They could be heard snarling some ways off and made for it.


    Suddenly Massacre leaped out of the trees and bowled over Arraxia. Chimera and demoness tumbled over in a tangle of limbs as they clawed at each other.


    "Unhand me, cretin!" snarled Arraxia.


    "Massacre, get off her," said William. "We still need her."


    At that moment, Felix emerged from the trees. His sword was in his hand and bloodied, but the box containing the Axe of Fortenex was nowhere to be seen. "Why?"


    "No reason," said Tanith. "Go ahead and eat her Massacre."


    "She led us to Felix," said William.


    "And to the raishans," noted Tanith.


    "If she had, she wouldn''t have helped us fight them," said William.


    "Well, if the dark lord himself hasn''t taken the field," muttered Felix, eyeing his armor. "Where the hell have you been?"


    "Traveling," said William, noticing that Felix was covered in dirt. His clothes were in rags, and he had several cuts on his hands. "You look terrible, Felix."


    "I''ve been hiding in the woods and sleeping in ditches," said Felix. "I''ve only had one set of clothes; my only company has been a chimera." He halted for a moment. "The Axe of Fortenex is gone."


    "Why?" asked William. "What happened?"


    "The damn thing was radiating unholy energy constantly. Every five minutes, we''d be chased down by some new demon," said Felix. "I kept it out of their hands as long as I could. But there came the point: either get rid of it and escape, or die and have it fall into enemy hands."


    "What point?!" asked William. "Felix, do you know what could happen if someone gets their hands on that Axe!?"


    "Yes, but I thought that if I was still alive, I could tell someone who had it," said Felix.


    William calmed himself. Felix was right, as he usually was about these things. "Who was it, then?"


    Felix looked around, expecting to see eyes staring at him from the trees. "The Iron King."


    "What did he look like?" asked William.


    "He wore armor similar to yours, actually," said Felix. "He was a giant, and I ended up dodging him for days. But no matter how far he chased me, he never tired, and his minions always got closer. Eventually, we were cornered, and Massacre was taken hostage.


    "So I gave it up. I knew I''d stand no chance even if I let Massacre die without her. He let Massacre live, laughed, and left."


    Massacre was abruptly thrown back with a roar to land against a tree. Arraxia stood and made her way forward. William caught her by the shoulder before the fight could continue. "We don''t have time for this. We have to get it back," said William. "Who knows what the Iron King intends to do with the Axe?"


    "Why do you think he wants it in the first place," said Tanith. "I thought it could only be wielded by the chosen of Fortenex."


    "So it can never be used against him, I expect," guessed Arraxia. "He delights in taking things which he''ll never have a chance to use. He''s one of those dog-in-the-manger types.


    "Alright, let me think," said William. "Arraxia, what was your original plan for getting into the Iron Kingdom?"


    "Well, I had originally hoped to use the Axe to negotiate for a meeting with the Iron King," said Arraxia. "I''d want to present it to him in person. Then when I was in front of him, I''d cut off his head."


    "Yes, but that doesn''t answer my question," said William.


    "Oh right, I suppose you do exist in this hypothetical," mused Arraxia. "I was planning to bring you into the palace by a secret passage I found years ago."


    "This passage, where is it?" asked Tanith.


    "I could lead you to it," said Arraxia. "Though I can''t remember what the area is called."


    "Is it guarded?" asked William.


    "Oh, gracious, no. Not by mortals anyway," said Arraxia. "If anyone knew to guard it, they would have to be killed for security reasons. But there are defenses of another sort. It works just as well on demons as humans, and I was hoping to use the Axe of Fortenex to break the spell."


    "Well, we''ll have to change it," said William. "Take us to the passage. At once."


    "As you wish," said Arraxia. "I shall indulge you. Follow me."


    At last, things were picking up.

 Chapter 279 - Twenty-five: The Rising

    Kiyora went to sleep that night and tried to go to Seathorius.


    Emphasis on tried. As soon as she made it, she felt a grip like iron on her mind and was yanked backward. Suddenly she was standing in front of a pillar at the center of a town and clutching her head. Agony surged through her mind.


    "What is this?" she gasped.


    "You were attempting to return to Seathorius without leave, weren''t you?" asked Raka. The dwarven warrior was holding an axe in one hand.


    "It''s my country. I''ll go back to it if I like," snapped Kiyora.


    "You haven''t earned the right to do what you like," said Raka. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The pain intensified, and Kiyora collapsed to the ground with a scream. Raka stood over her, a hand on her sword. Her eyes were empty. "We serve the Iron Kingdom. It is ruled by those with a far greater understanding than us. We live and die at their command. Continue to defy them, and it will be worse for you."


    The pain disappeared. Kiyora looked up. "Greater understanding?" she asked.


    "It is their lot to rule and direct," said Raka, "Just as it is a lot of my brother and myself to act as their sword arm. Those who oppose them must be rooted out for the greater good."


    "What is good?" asked Kiyora. "Because from how you people act, I''m guessing it isn''t the dignity and well-being of sentient beings."


    "We seek the only logical definition of good," said Raka. "The greatest amount of happiness for the greatest amount of people."


    Kiyora looked around at the villagers in this place. They were staying indoors. They eyed the soldiers of the Iron Kingdom with mistrustful eyes. The soldiers looked to be repairing a wall that had broken. Kiyora wondered if it was meant to keep people in or out.


    "...Great job," Was what she said.


    "Security must come before any society may be created," said Raka.


    "Oh, is that why you go around killing everyone who disagrees with you?" asked Kiyora.


    "Dissent cannot be tolerated in times of crisis," said Raka. She sounded more and more like one reciting something drilled into them from birth. "The Iron Kingdom has been at war for centuries. As the Einheroth raid us, rebels attempt to restore the gods of old. Viokins seek to raid our shores. We are strained to the breaking point and must take necessary actions."


    "You want to know how to fix all these problems really, really, easily?" asked Kiyora.


    Raka raised an eyebrow in amusement and suddenly was back to normal. "You would claim to know the solution to matters the Iron Council has sought for centuries?"


    "Yeah," said Kiyora. "Want to hear it?"


    "Speak," said Raka.


    "Tear down the pillars," said Kiyora.


    Raka stared. "How would that solve anything?"


    "It would," said Kiyora. "Because if you tear down the pillars, you could then send messages to Calisha and Harlenor. Says that you want to take up the worship of the greatest god. Instantly everyone would have a vested interest in ensuring you didn''t fall.


    "You could negotiate for all kinds of benefits."


    "You would have us betray everything we stand for worldly gains?" asked Raka.


    "What exactly do you stand for?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Iron Kingdom was founded to throw off the tyranny of the gods!" said Raka, brushing her hair away.


    "Tyranny?" asked Kiyora. "How are they tyrants exactly?"


    "They send diseases to plague us. Then they claim benevolence when their healing powers cure some victims," said Raka. "They fight amongst each other constantly. They bring ruin and death for the sake of petty vendettas. They rape mortal women and claim their rights as superior beings.


    "But they aren''t superior! Take away your powers, and what are you, Kiyora Yagos?"


    Kiyora blinked. She''d had some first-hand experience on the subject. "...That''s a good question. But I don''t see how the Iron Council is any better.


    "And from a strictly pragmatic perspective, you should allow the gods to give you advice. If they think they can control you, they are far less likely to try and wipe you off the map. And anyway, what about the afterlife? Who''s going to take your souls? The demons?"


    "Of course not," said Raka. "The souls of those who die in the Iron Kingdom are drawn into the pillars. There their spirits become one with the magic of the Void Stone. They aid the Iron King in defending against the tyranny of the gods."


    "...That has got to be the worst afterlife I''ve ever heard of," said Kiyora. "You die and get used as a battery so your sociopath of a leader can throw a temper tantrum against the heavens? And I thought Alchara''s eternal family sounded like a raw deal."


    "Silence!" said Raka. "The will of the Iron King is not to be questioned!"


    "Then what are you doing here?" asked Kiyora.


    "What?" said Raka.


    "You decided to intervene and protect this village. The Iron Council decided to let it burn to the ground," said Kiyora. "Why?"


    Raka remained silent for a long moment. "If we could stop the advance of the demons here, they would not go on to plague other villages.".


    "In other words, you thought you knew better than them," said Kiyora.


    "The Iron Council is set in its ways," said Raka. "They do not understand the military necessity."


    "Well, then it looks like they aren''t more perfect than gods," noted Kiyora.


    "They aren''t. We don''t treat them as such," said Raka.


    "You just obey them without question and do everything they say," said Kiyora. "Sounds like a god to me."


    "You don''t understand this Kingdom!" snarled Raka.


    "And I don''t think I want to," said Kiyora.


    At that moment, there was a cry. A soldier rushed up to Raka, looking flustered. "Lady Raka, Lord Byran approaches! His armies are with him."


    "What?" said Raka.


    Raka rushed to the walls. Kiyora went with her and saw the armies of the Iron Kingdom making their way to the village. Their gray armor was battered, and they carried many wounded with them.


    "Open the gates!" cried Raka. "Get medical supplies quickly!"


    The gates were thrown open, and Byran''s army entered. Byran himself had his arm in a sling. His helmet had been lost at some point, and his axe was notched. Raka ran up to him and embraced him.


    "Raka, what are you doing here?" asked Byran.


    "I''ve been fortifying this town to repel a possible invasion," said Raka.


    Byran looked over, his men streaming in. "Well, it is good that you did. The Fort of Steel has fallen. We narrowly escaped with our lives. Man, the walls and prepare to defend against the Einheroth."


    "Where are they? How many?" asked Raka.


    "More than have ever emerged before now," said Byran. "Can''t you hear them?"


    Kiyora suddenly realized she could. There was a harsh and joyful song in the air, spoken by voices like cold northern winds. It rang throughout the trees and made her shudder. Then she heard the tramp of many feet. Even as Byran and Raka rallied their forces along the wall, out of the trees came the Einheroth.


    Kiyora had heard people talk about them. But she''d never seen one. Now she wished she hadn''t. They were living suits of armor, marching forward in lines. They held axes and spears, and there was a pale flame in place of flesh. The song continued.


    Although she could not make out the words, she knew the meaning. It was ingrained in the soul. It spoke of blood and death and decaying corpses.


    And from behind the Einheroth poured legions of little green things wearing veils. They held spears and swords and rushed at the walls chattering. Arrows were launched, and many of the creatures died. Some turned and tried to flee back. But these were hewn down in moments by the Einheroth who came behind.


    Like a tidal wave, the green creatures rushed toward the wall. They didn''t care about their casualties, though the arrows fell among them like rain. Soon they were scaling up the walls. Men and dwarves hacked them down as the Einheroth drew ever closer. For a moment, it seemed as though the defense would be driven in.


    But Raka joined the fray. She moved across the wall like the wind, and wherever she ran, the creatures died in sprays of blood. Byran''s men came to reinforce them while the soldier stood and reached the top at a walk.


    The Einheroth did not fear arrows as they marched toward the gate with a huge ram. They raised a wall of shields to ward off the barrage. Stones were thrown down on them, and several fell. But the rest brought their ram against the gates and smote it. The gates cracked. It would only take another strike.


    Kiyora raised a hand and channeled her will into the gates. There was another impact, and they held firm. But Kiyora felt the blow on her hand and stepped back. Then another force arose, terrible and cold, and she felt a vicelike grip hold her. She struggled with it as the gate was struck. It was all so could do to keep from being crushed.


    The strain of the contest was too great. The gates broke, and the Einheroth streamed in.


    They found Byran waiting. With two strokes of his axe, two fell. Others came forward to replace them, and for a moment, he was hard-pressed. Then came Raka and many other soldiers. The stroke of an Einheroth cut one down. Another drove his spear through the creatures. But he was slashed down. Byran and Raka stood back to back, axes hewing about them. Then they were hidden from view by the press of bodies.


    Kiyora looked up at the trees and felt like she could see everything. She saw vast hosts had spilled forth from the mountains. Their harsh song could be heard throughout all the valleys and mountains. What was faced here was only the vanguard of a much greater army.


    What was Kiyora supposed to be doing here? Oh right, summoning the trees. She felt a bit detached, but she might as well follow through. She didn''t like the Iron Kingdom, but it would be bad if innocent people got killed. Reaching out with her mind, she sensed the trees.


    "Would you mind getting rid of all these Einheroth?" she asked.


    She had a pointed and harsh reply. There was also a question. Did she truly care?


    "No, I''m not particularly motivated to help them, but I feel I should," admitted Kiyora. "What about you?"


    The trees felt no obligation to help these people. They had helped enough already, and the pillars had not yet been broken. And really, why should they? Kiyora didn''t see any reason they should like the Iron Kingdom or anyone in it. They''d been treated very poorly.


    "Oh, you mean breaking the pillars," mused Kiyora. "Well, it could take some time, and I can''t promise anything. But if you were to rescue these people, you might be able to destroy some of the pillars yourselves. They''ll likely all be so busy fighting each other that they can''t stop you."


    The trees were incredulous. Kiyora saw that long ago; they had attempted to tear down the pillars. But they had found that the spirits of the dead had resisted them. The pillars had proved too strong.


    "Okay, maybe," said Kiyora, "but I''m helping you right now. I''m the Dreaming Goddess. I''ll put my own power into you, and you will become strong enough to destroy them." What was she thinking? She didn''t have the power to animate whole forests.


    Except she did.


    Some of her realized that she had always had this power bubbling beneath the surface. She just hadn''t realized it until now. Or had it been kept back from her? She could feel her will going out across the land, and the trees answered the call.


    The groaning of the woods was everywhere. Einheroth were grabbed and torn apart by roots and branches. Goblins ran back to their holes in terror. And the trees grasped the pillars with their roots.


    A vicious will resisted them. It clung to the pillars, and their efforts were in vain. They could not unplant them. Then Kiyora put forth her will to their aid. The pillars resisted for a moment; then, they were broken and torn down.


    The trees had smashed through what was left of the gates and scattered the defenders. Upon their roots, they climbed to the top of the village and reached out to take hold of the pillar. For a moment, the pillar held against them.


    Raka rushed up the hill and saw Kiyora. "What have you done?!"


    "Made a few suggestions," said Kiyora.


    "Men, cut these trees down and burn them!" cried Byan. "We''ll avenge-"


    A root wrapped around his neck from behind.


    "Are you sure about this?" asked Kiyora. "You''re men don''t look ready to pick a fight with trees."


    "How are you doing this?" asked Raka. "No one can break free of the Will of Iron."


    "Like I said, I''m a goddess," said Kiyora. "You didn''t think you could control me that easily? I''ve only played along this long because I felt like helping the people here. No offense, but not telling me to kill my friends didn''t do anything to make me want to work for you people."


    "This treachery will not go unpunished," said Raka.


    "Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, hypocritical self-righteousness," said Kiyora. "You have bigger problems than me. Now, if you''ll excuse me, I will go find my friends." And she disappeared in a flash.


    It was more satisfying than ever before to walk among the trees. As she did, she heard them whispering among each other. Kiyora asked them for William''s location and got it quickly. Then she heard several questions.


    "No," said Kiyora, "you can''t wipe out the humans and dwarves of this place. It isn''t their fault the Iron Kingdom oppresses everyone. They''re victims as well."


    There were disgruntled mutterings among many of the trees. Too many. Kiyora felt that these forests would have gladly washed over the land if she had given the word. They would have gladly torn apart everything in the Iron Kingdom, perhaps beyond that.


    "Look, you''re angry," said Kiyora. "I get that, and you have the right to be angry. But you have to focus on the people responsible. Keep destroying the pillars and getting rid of the Einheroth." She winced. Images assailed her of felled trees and burned woods. "We''ll talk about this once it''s over."


    A chill went through Kiyora as she felt another wail. The Einheroth had begun to fight back. No longer taken off guard, the undead creatures began to hack at trees with their axes. It took dozens of them to kill a single tree, but a tree took hundreds of years to grow. Already the forests moving all around her were beginning to fall.


    And yet more Einheroth poured forth from the mountains. Yet, with every pillar that fell, energy coursed through the trees. They seemed to become more and more vicious. They moved faster and faster, and the earth churned beneath their onslaught.


    But soon, the green things came back with many torches. They hurled them and slashed at the trees with them. Most were killed, but several trees were set alight. Kiyora felt them writhing in agony as the flames spread. The fire spread throughout the forests around the Einheroth.


    The joke was on them.


    Trees could survive fire. Their bark insulated them against it; even if all the leaves were burned away, they could return. It was very painful and unpleasant for them, but unless the fire was very hot indeed, it would not kill them. The same could not be said for squishy green things. The rose smoke choked them, and many were consumed by the fires they had started.


    Once again, they fled shrieking back to their holes, but this time few made it. Fires lit up on the horizon, and the trees went still. Kiyora sighed. "Thank you," she said. "I''m sorry about what the goblins did to you, but you''ve just saved a lot of people."


    The trees gave her an irritated reply. She had the feeling they were angry with her.


    "Look, I''m sorry," said Kiyora. "But you could have said no and refused to attack the Einheroth. It isn''t like I forced you to. And the pillars are destroyed this way."


    The tree reluctantly agreed.


    Still, Kiyora noticed something. She had less regard for life than she once had. Something had changed in her, or perhaps her spirit''s proximity to Arraxia. She''d have to fix this later.


    Then she became aware of Laevian. The goddess was watching the destruction with satisfaction. Kiyora eyed her suspiciously, skin now a grayish hue and dress showing a lot of cleavage. "Any reason why you couldn''t have done this years ago?"


    "I choose not to," said Laevian. "With no healing magic, the Iron Kingdom was a perfect breeding ground for disease. I''ve had great fun with it, though Elranor still found ways to ruin things. He made me grow plants meant to heal people."


    "You mean, you let this happen because you wanted to create new diseases?" asked Kiyora.


    "I hate mortals," said Laevian. "I''ve never understood what Elranor sees in them. Besides, the Iron Kingdom kept the minotaurs from raiding Calisha and Harlenor. They are useless to me now that they are on the verge of falling."


    Kiyora looked at her in disgust. "Okay, I know that William claims otherwise, but you are evil.


    "Evil is a word with no meaning in the wild," said Laevian. "And I love the wild more than anything else. And soon, the wild will cover all of this continent." Something in her voice put Kiyora on guard.


    "What do you mean?" she asked.


    "The Iron King has the Axe of Fortenex," said Laevian, a smile creeping onto her face. "And I know what he wants to do with it. There isn''t be any mortal breathing on this continent once he''s done."


    "Then I''m going to stop him," said Kiyora.


    This only seemed to amuse Laevian further. "Very well. Enjoy your fleeting existence as a mortal." And she was gone like leaves in the wind.

 Chapter 280 - Twenty-six: The Doors of Iron

    As they approached the sea, the trees began to move.


    They saw the pillars being grasped and torn to shreds by the roots of the trees. One moment you would see a pillar standing tall and strong, and then you would look away. When you looked up, there would be a cracking noise, and the pillar was broken under the roots. All around them, they heard groaning and the grumbling of ancient stone. Then just as suddenly, everything went silent. It was eerie.


    And it was a relief.


    But William felt his powers returning to him. For the first time, the sun above seemed to give real light. The colors and meaning of the world had returned. His spirit lifted. However, Arraxia''s tail flicked in irritation.


    "How I wish those pillars were still up," said Arraxia. "I had forgotten how much I hated the sun."


    "Why would you hate the sun?" asked William.


    "Why not?" That was all Arraxia would say. Then she walked faster.


    William and Felix began to trade stories with each other. Felix had been dodging the Iron Kingdom''s soldiers this entire time. He and Massacre did it so well that the Iron King came to look for him. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    This made William impressed beyond words. He''d always known Felix was good; he never knew he was this good. Tanith obviously thought it very impressive too.


    "He wasn''t like the others," said Felix. "He zoomed right in on me. No matter how far we ran, he was always behind. Wherever we hid, he found us. Eventually, I ambushed him. I had Massacre cause a distraction and come at him breathing fire and roaring.


    "While she was doing that, I tried to get him in the back. But he knocked me flat without even glancing at me. If he wanted us dead, he could have killed us easily."


    "So why did he let you live?" asked William.


    "I think I amused him," said Felix. "He seemed to regard chasing us as entertaining. He was actually quite complimentary. Very polite."


    They suddenly came from the trees to a bare hill where no grass grew. The trees seemed to recoil away from the mountain, and the ground was blackened. Arraxia led them around the hill and to a set of double doors built into the side of a rock. Two statues were on either side of it, radiating an aura of coldness, which was almost painful. They were carved images of soldiers clutching great swords in their hands. The land around the door was somehow shrunken and weak. Trees seemed to lean away from it. The grass did not grow by the door.


    "Here we are," said Arraxia.


    "I was expecting it to be hidden," admitted William.


    "It doesn''t need to be hidden," said Arraxia.


    "Of course, it doesn''t," said Tanith before setting a hand on the door. She let out a cry and stepped backward her hand red.


    Arraxia laughed. "I told you. The door is warded by the will of the Iron King. And until now, all my efforts to get inside have been in vain."


    "Then how do you know it leads to the palace?" asked Tanith.


    "I stole the floor plans," said Arraxia. "It was a very complicated affair and not very interesting. That was years ago when the place was stronger, and there would have been guards here.


    "Now, William, would you kindly wield your harp, and I will assist. With the power-" She eyed William, and her eyes fixed on his harp. "Where is the Goldenwood Harp?"


    "I gave it back to Alchara," said William.


    "You..." Arraxia stammered, "You gave it back?! Why?!"


    "To save Kiyora from an unwanted marriage," said William. "Though truth be told, I wanted to stop using it in the first place. I felt that it was keeping me from truly mastering my power."


    "Well, the second one, I might understand, but the first?!" said Arraxia. "What... I mean... giving up power?! You''re an idiot!"


    "What do you want me to do?" asked William.


    "I wanted you to try and break the seal," said Arraxia.


    "What were you planning to do if the trees hadn''t gone berserk and destroyed all the pillars?" asked Felix. "William didn''t have his powers until that happened."


    "I..." Arraxia paused, "well, obviously, the trees going berserk was my doing. Clearly, I would not have made so obvious an oversight. Whatever the case, without the Goldenwood Harp, it will be far more difficult. I''ll have to invest some of my power into it."


    "Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say," said William.


    He drew out his harp and began to play, sending forth his will against the doors. Instantly he was repulsed, and he felt the spells reaching forward to grip him. He couldn''t breathe. Playing faster, he worked to loosen the grip and drew a few short breaths. Soon the grip of the spell had been thrown off.


    The power of Elranor clashed with the power of the Iron Kingdom. They contested one another, and William struggled to keep playing. The statues seemed to grow taller than the mountains and leer down at him. The door almost seemed to snarl in hatred as he pressed back toward the gate. He assailed it but could not reach it.


    "This power..." gasped William, "I... I''m not sure I can break the spell."


    "Do shut up and play," said Arraxia.


    William sent his will against him again. Once again, he was thrown back. A third time he assaulted it and pressed his full power against it. The door shuddered beneath his attack. Yet it still held firm. William pushed and pushed, gritting his teeth at the pain.


    Then Kiyora appeared. "Open," she said.


    New power surged against the door. It cracked. Then it shattered and fell inwards. There was a feral sneering sound, and then the door''s power was broken. William stood up and looked at Kiyora.


    "Kiyora?" he asked.


    "Hey," said Kiyora, raising a hand, "sorry, I''m late."


    "Right, let''s go," said William as he stood. "Come on, Felix, we''ll head for the shore."


    "What?" said Arraxia.


    "What?" said Kiyora.


    "I only came here to free Kiyora," said William with a shrug. "I have no intention of walking into combat with the Iron King. Not now that I''ve already achieved what I came here to do."


    "You can''t do that!" said Arraxia.


    "On the contrary, I can, I will, and that is what I intend to do," said William. "I''m sure Raynald and Rusara can handle the Iron King."


    "Felix, could you say something to him?" asked Kiyora.


    "Why would I say something?" asked Felix.


    "...Can we afford to leave the Axe of Fortenex in the Iron King''s hands?" asked Tanith.


    "He might just want it as a trophy," said William. "In any case, he defeated Massacre. I''m not going to face someone that powerful. Not for a few more years, at least. And anyway, even if we get the Axe of Fortenex, Arraxia will steal it, gloat, and runoff. And I know she''d use it."


    "Bah," said Massacre in agreement.


    "Come on!" said Tanith. "We''ve come all this way! Let''s at least have a look at him!"


    "Yes, and once we have had a look at him, we''ll have to fight him," said William.


    "I''m in complete agreement," said Felix. "Let''s go."


    "But, don''t you want to overthrow him for his tyranny?" asked Arraxia.


    "Sure, but only if there is someone to replace him," said William. "Killing him right now would probably just send the Kingdom into anarchy. Anarchy is never good,"


    "Oh, come on, William!" said Tanith. "I haven''t had a chance to kill anything for days."


    "Well, we may be attacked by pirates on our way home," said William. "Or waylaid by brigands or something to that effect."


    "We had a deal!" said Arraxia in an almost pleading voice.


    "We had an alliance. You wanted to go after the Iron King," said William. "I wanted to rescue Kiyora. Our interests aligned. The situation has changed completely since then. Really we should go back home and regroup. Best to wait on vengeance and come back after everything has cooled down."


    "We can''t wait," said Kiyora.


    William stopped and looked at her. "What do you mean?"


    "We can''t wait," said Kiyora. "I met Laevian earlier. She told me that the Iron King had something planned. Something which will completely annihilate all life on the continent."


    "Are you sure?" asked William, heart sinking.


    "Yes," said Kiyora. "She seemed quite happy about it."


    William closed his eyes and sighed. "...Damn, let''s go."


    William summoned a light, and they turned and ventured into the passage. Within was a smooth stone passage. There were no tiles on the floor, and the wall was perfectly smooth. Rather it seemed as if someone or something had burrowed their way into the stone. The air here was still, as though dead.


    William didn''t like it any better than he had the outside. He spoke to Kiyora about what she had been doing to distract himself. Kiyora explained things in her usual manner, seeming unconcerned as always.


    "So you were the one who destroyed all the pillars." mused William.


    "Yeah," said Kiyora. "Once I got the trees started, they couldn''t be stopped. They''ve been going around wrecking pillars left and right. There may be a few left, but what can you do?"


    "Aren''t you afraid the Withering King will strike back?" asked Tanith.


    "Not really," admitted Kiyora. "What is he going to do, deforest the whole nation?"


    "Arraxia, where does this tunnel come out exactly?" asked Felix.


    "In the palace," said Arraxia. "Now quiet. Someone might be waiting for us on the other end, and I don''t want them to hear you talking."


    Soon they entered a wide-open chamber filled with many sarcophagi lying still in great rows. There were no rotting bodies here, but somehow this was nearly as bad as the other areas. It put William on edge to be in this tomb, and he felt as if something might rise up and attack him at any moment.


    "Can we expect any guardians?" he asked.


    "No," said Arraxia. "If by guardians you mean restless spirits of the dead. These are catacombs, not dormitories. Everything here is long dead."


    They walked in that eerie place for some time. William needed to figure out how long it was. Then they passed beyond the catacombs and into another place. Here they saw statues. Thousands upon thousands of pale white statues of soldiers. They held spears, and their eyes were all closed.


    Yet William felt a presence in the room. It was living, and he knew they should go. "Run," he said.


    "What?" said Tanith.


    "Run for the exit!" hissed William.


    Arraxia sprang forward, and they ran after her. Yet the statues stretched around them as far as they could see in the darkness. And they began to move. Soon the figures were coming toward them from both sides.


    A row of them closed the way ahead of them. The entrance could be seen just beyond. Spears were lowered toward them. "Who dares enter the domain of the Iron King without leave!" said a long, hollow voice. "You and your kind shall-"


    "Oh, do shut up," Arraxia lashed out with her tail. The blade cut straight through the foremost statues. At once, the figures began to close in around them. Arraxia reached a door and kicked it from its hinges.


    In she went, and William followed after her. Yet he couldn''t see her anywhere as the others rushed in. Then she emerged from the ceiling and threw down a ladder from above. "Come on quickly! This way!"


    "You first, Kiyora," said William. "Go."


    Kiyora scaled up as William stood by the door. The statues crowd the door, but Tanith lashed out with a sword and broke the face of the leader. Another replaced it and fell as well. Tanith''s blades moved in a whirlwind as William sent Felix up next. In moments, six of the statues had been cut down. They made no effort to defend themselves. They just pressed on without stopping, jabbing with spears.


    It was the blades of the Nakmar. These statues would be impossible to cut with normal weapons. But Tanith''s swords could cleave them. Certainly, Tanith looked to be enjoying herself as she hacked them down. But she couldn''t hold them off indefinitely.


    "Tanith come on!" said William. "I''ll hold them!"


    Tanith cleaved down three more before backing away, only to halt and cut down two more with a smile. Spinning her blades, she cut two spears and cleaved two skulls. Then she spun the blades round to sheath her swords. Turning in one smooth movement, she scaled up the ladder. The statues tried to pursue them, but they tripped over the bodies of their fallen. William went after Tanith as well. Soon she was up through the gap. William was nearly after her when he felt something grip his foot.


    Looking down, he saw the statues filling the room. Unslinging his shield, he bashed away their spears but found more hands coming down to grip him. He''d fall!


    "William!" cried Kiyora.


    Then Arraxia''s tail lashed out around him and hauled him through. He was flung against the side of a wall and tried to stand. He saw Arraxia shutting the hatch. Then gripping a great box, she drew it up and slammed it down.


    William stood, healing his bruises. "That..." he said, "was far too close."


    The room was utterly silent. Great boxes were piled high around them. For a moment, William looked around in silence. Utter silence. A silence deeper than anything he''d ever felt, but there was no purity to it. If this was the palace, shouldn''t there have been sound?


    "Where are we?" asked Tanith. Her voice seemed to echo.


    "In a storehouse," said Arraxia. "One in the outer palace, as I said. Now come, let''s get going."


    "What makes you think we can even reach the inner palace?" asked William.


    "Simple enough," said Arraxia, "the palace is empty at the best times. The Iron King needs no guards and does not care much for others'' company. A long time ago, the palace was filled with all kinds of people.


    "That was during my tutelage under Melchious alongside Rubia and Rioletta. We sometimes come here. We performed supernatural services for the Iron King when they were needed.


    "But those days are long past. He prefers solitude now and comes and goes in secret. And only a few hundred servants live here with guards. And the palace could hold thousands."


    "Well, this is poor security," said William. He walked to the door and opened it. "Come, let''s go." He opened the door and saw a dozen corpses freshly made.

 Chapter 281 - Twenty-seven: The Iron King

    They were guards and had been cut with many wounds by their own weapons. On their faces were wicked smiles. William walked among them. He wondered what had happened as the scent of blood assailed his nostrils. He felt a presence in the air, but it slipped away, laughing before he could grasp it. At his feet were large puddles of blood and many hewn limbs.


    The bleak stone walls reeked of death and were utterly forlorn and silent. William peered around as Felix kneeled by several fallen man. What had happened in this place? Who had done this?


    "These men killed each other," said Felix. "Look there." He motioned, and William followed the gaze. There was a man who clutched a spear that had been driven into the heart of his fellow. He''d taken a dagger to the neck.


    "Not all of them," said Tanith, largely unaffected. This realm had destabilized her. "This one killed himself." Willliam looked at her and saw a back who had fallen on his sword. There was no horror or grief on his face; he was smiling.


    "A fight?" asked Kiyora. "Was there a coup?"


    "No," said William, feeling a chill. "This was not any civil war. These men were made to kill each other by dark magic."


    "Well, obviously," said Arraxia. "The Iron King is practicing his powers on his people. Either that or he cannot fully control them."


    "What powers?" asked William.


    "One of the abilities of the Axe of Fortenex is to send people into killing frenzies," said Arraxia. "It seems to have done wonders for Tanith lately."


    "Oh, she''s always like that," said William.


    "Pretty much," said Tanith. "Though I am enjoying myself on this adventure." Bitter laughter ensured, and William wondered if he''d gone mad.


    Who wouldn''t?


    "The strong-willed may resist, but in the hands of one such as myself, it would be unstoppable," said Arraxia. "Come, let''s keep moving. He''ll probably expand his gaze to other realms soon."


    They walked through many halls with weapons near at hand. The palace could not have been more different. There were colorful and ornate paintings and tapestries on every wall. There were vast decorations on the walls. There were pictures of angels of light standing high over cowering mortals. They might have been very beautiful to look at. But corpses could be found here or there, hewn down by guards who killed themselves in the aftermath. There were young girls and old men. There were boys not much older than William. Something was in the air, that presence again. They were laughing.


    "There is something evil in the air," said William. "This sensation, I''ve felt it before."


    "It is like with Laughing Wraith," said Kiyora. "Except different. It has changed."


    "We are all the Dark Dreamer," said William.


    "What?" said Kiyora.


    "Something a demon told me," said William. "The Vulture of Melchious, he was called. He said that Melchious had many faces."


    "What is Melchious doing here?" asked Kiyora.


    "I don''t know," admitted William.


    Passing through gilded halls, they, at last. They came before a set of double doors inlaid with images of mutilation and horror. A vast ogre with a demonic gaze, half-buried in the ground, was inlaid at the bottom of the door. From its back came tendrils lined with many dead men, mutilated and bloodied. Further up the tendrils stood a figure upon a throne, playing a harp and above, a black image of the heavens.


    They were a bright reflection of those they had seen before. Instead of soldiers, there were angels with flaming swords. From within, they could hear the playing of a harp.


    It was beautiful music, more beautiful than anything William had yet to hear in his life. It made him feel like he was lying upon the clouds and fading away. Fading into a higher being than himself. He felt his eyes drooping. He needed to sleep. Just shut his eyes for a time, and then-


    He shook his head and set a hand to his sword. No, he would not fall into such a spell.


    Arraxia strode forward, set her hands against the door, and threw them aside. There was a crash as the doors hit the walls. The song washed over them all the louder momentarily, but William drew his music and played back. For a time, the music contested, notes clashing against one another. It grated on his mind, and he struggled to focus. A pale light washed over them, sending their minds to sleep as they struggled to continue.


    William played all the harder, though he could hardly remember. He felt as though he were a walking shadow behind Arraxia. On and on, the music played. William smiled in joy at the contest to meet one with the same skill. And his enemy played harder and better until. At the very moment William thought to be overwhelmed, the song ended.


    So they entered.


    Within was a great hall of carved stone. Eight huge pillars held up a high ceiling. They found the Iron King at the far end upon a high throne. He was no giant, as had been described. He was unarmored and wore bright white garments, and over his head was a hooded cloak. In his hands was a harp, which he still played with masterful skill. Propped up against his throne was the Axe of Fortenex.


    As they approached, he stood and threw back his hood. Beneath it, William saw the fairest features he had ever beheld. Such was the wondrous power and nobility within them that he stepped back and wondered if he was in a dream. No other being he had ever seen could compare. All that he had seen around him now seemed maimed and misshapen in comparison.


    His hair was long and golden but brighter than William thought possible. This was no mere flaxen but true gold. Gold of a hue and richness that no precious metal taken from the earth could ever compare to.


    "Ah," laughed the Iron King in a voice filled with youthful exuberance, "so at last, my guests have arrived, have they? I apologize for the corpses. I had hoped to have this place cleaned up by the time you arrived. But all plans go astray, and Felix has proven himself a master at leading things from their right path.


    "Welcome."


    "What have you done?" asked Kiyora, voice bemused.


    "Driven my subjects to madness as a test of my power, of course," said the Iron King. "And soon, I shall cause a far greater bloodletting. The rivers will run red with those who have served me loyally."


    Somehow, William found it impossible to get angry. He saw that it was not just him. The others were in a daze of sorts. Arraxia herself looked confused and doubtful. Yet he pieced things together. What other power would act with such meaningless cruelty save one? "Melchious?" he asked. "You are the Iron King?"


    Melchious laughed, and the sound rang throughout the halls. He snatched up the Axe of Fortenex, threw it into the air, and caught it by the haft as it came down. Spinning it, he walked down the stairs. "Of course. It is a rather long story. I''d be happy to relate it."


    "How?" asked William, unable to be angry. "Why? Why would you create a kingdom only to destroy it?"


    "For many reasons, of course," said Melchious. "But chiefest among them was to restock my supply of raishans. I freed many prisoners from bondage. I took on the guise of a hero, earned their loyalty, and led them to shun the gods and shut them out. Every person that died here in the Iron Kingdom had their soul sent into the pillars and the Void Stone.


    "Their souls, in turn, became the fuel for more raishans.


    "In other guises, I inspired the satyrs to newfound heights of bloodlust. I went among the minotaurs, convincing them to raid and pillage. Thus, those who might have opposed the Iron King dared not for fear of their enemies.


    "We''ve had some very real success, record years, in fact. But we didn''t reach our full potential. Unfortunately, the Iron Kingdom has recently become unreliable as a source of souls. Birth rates dropped, and the quality of the souls decreased. So, I''ve decided to exterminate every man, woman, and child in this entire kingdom. Once the land is clear, I will give it to some of my other worshippers."


    "This is disgraceful!" roared Arraxia. "You had an entire Kingdom loyal to you. Yet, instead of using them to conquer and subjugate other realms, you just plan to destroy them! And for what?! So you could create some more disposable monsters to cover your earlier failures? This is why I had you overthrown!"


    "Arraxia," said Melchious as he took hold of her throat and squeezed. "Talented though you are, I fear you have never really understood the meaning of being a demon. It is not about power or the desire to dominate. It is about destruction. All that we do, all that we seek to achieve is done to spread misery and suffering across the worlds."


    Arraxia choked, and William could do nothing. Why should he do anything? She had made no secret of her allegiance to herself. It was better to let her die where she stood.


    No, no, he must act.


    "We demons are denied common pleasures," said Melchious. "The finest of foods are but ash on our tongues. We seek our pleasures in other ways. Some have made great strides in our goals through the domination of others. Yet it is not the domination of minds that truly gives us pleasure but their torment. We do not seek power but the opportunity to misuse it.


    "The only purpose for torture is torture itself.


    "The only meaning behind the atrocities we commit is for the sake of those atrocities.


    "There is no hope of victory for us.


    "No great plan that shall lead to our ascension beyond the pitiful mortals, we scoff.


    "No reward for those with the vision to shed common morality.


    "There is no power we gain that good man cannot gain for less.


    "We perform the unforgivable for its own sake. There is no meaning. Only blood. Blood fo Zigildrazia."


    Then, Arraxia seized his hand and dragged it from her throat. "Coward! That is the philosophy of the slave! I have set myself above the heavens and determined all that is!


    "If I am not the supreme being, then I shall make it so!"


    And she flew into the air, and her eyes blazed with flame as her wings were outstretched.


    "You speak ever above your station," said Melchious, leaping back with a smile. "You shall fail like so many before you. At the zenith of your ascension, it shall be snatched from you. For my part, I am well enough content. I have sewn death across this land and will reap the harvest.


    "And when all in this land are dead, I shall do the same to others." S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    William looked past Melchious and saw the Void Stone. It was set on the top of the throne Melchious had sat upon. It was black as the darkest void, and light seemed to be drawn into it to die. It was like the pillars, yet it was worse now that he looked at it. Within it, he could see souls. Thousands and thousands of souls from generations of people were within it. They slept within, slowly being twisted.


    Raishans. It came into the mind of William that Melchious commanded the raishans. And with so many souls, he might create a mighty army and ravage many lands. Just as he had ravaged Khasmir and the northern reaches of Artarq.


    He must act! Yet a will-like ropes had wrapped around him, binding him in place gently. No anger could be mustered before such beauty, and he saw the same from the others.


    "You''re a monster," whispered Kiyora, eyes were going empty.


    Melchious just smiled. "An original observation if I''ve ever heard one. Though it has not grown any less true with use." The Axe of Fortenex began to glow with an unholy red light. The light entered the Void Stone, and there was screaming of absolute horror.


    In that moment, Melchious'' white garb shifted to a red cloak with bronze armor. A flash ensued as the spell was laid!


    At that moment, William felt he could see all of the Iron Kingdom. Yet a shadow fell over it, a hand of blood whose fingers reached out over all the lands, groping. Men, women, and children looked up in fear as the spell began to take hold of their hearts. This was wrong? But was it? Shouldn''t he have felt more concerned if it was wrong?


    Tanith acted first, and the spell broke. In a moment, her blades were out, and she was surging toward Melchious. Even as she did so, she screamed in agony and fell to the ground. Massacre breathed her flame, but what seemed a wave of blood arose to quench them. Felix faded into the shadows, and he emerged behind Melchious. He raised his blade to strike, but Melchious glanced at him and screamed in agony. Massacre let out a scream from all her heads and writhed.


    Arraxia surged at Melchious. The agony spell was sent against her, but she moved on regardless. Melchious was forced to step back to avoid her claws. Bringing around the axe he nearly cleaved off her head, but Arraxia ducked low, and her tail slashed at him. A spear of flame came into her hand as she attacked him in a flurry of strokes.


    Yet Melchious defended with only one hand. He ducked and weaved easily, and small injuries soon appeared on Arraxia. He hardly seemed to be trying. Now William saw why Arraxia had never sought to overthrow him directly. There was an enemy with skill and deadly cunning beyond measure.


    But Tanith was there again with blades singing. Melchious began to move faster, their blades a blur of metal. A line of blood appeared across Melchious'' cheek, and as he flinched, she caught him across the leg. The weaving of his spell slowed. Yet his grip was still over the hearts of all within the Iron Kingdom. Yet it was going slowly. It was slower than it could have been.


    Then Kiyora glowed with a bright light and sent forth a wave of it.


    Melchious raised a hand, and the light faded while disarming Tanith with an off-hand. Kiyora yelled out in pain but sent forth her will again. For the moment, the spell was now held at bay. However, the Void Stone and the axe were still glowing with power. At any moment, Melchious would lose patience and cease his game. Like a cat who is tired of tormenting a mouse. At any moment, Tanith and the others would die.


    So why wasn''t he acting?


    "Act!" cried a voice within him that William did not know the name of. "Act before all is lost!"


    It was Elranor, though he had forgotten his name. William rushed at Melchious and drew his sword. Yet even as he did so, he realized it would not help Melchious. Instead, he ran past him for the Void Stone.


    Summoning the power of Elranor through the sword, he rushed up the steps and brought it down on the stone. There was a clash, and he was thrown back. He groaned as he hit the steps and arose again. However, even as he did so, he found raw agony coursing through him. His every nerve was on fire! The skin was melting from his bones!


    "As good a strategy as can be expected," said Melchious. "But, I am beyond your power."


    "Elranor, give me strength..." gasped William.


    He arose and raised his harp. Playing the music, he set his will against the Void Stone. The blackness grew still deeper. His music warped and changed to horrifying sounds, and he found something in his mind. It tore at his thoughts, trying to rip his being and render him a puppet of flesh. Pulling away, he thrashed against it as his song played against the stone. Little by little, he felt the defenses waver, only to be reinforced by more power.


    This wasn''t going anywhere! But what else could he do?


    Sweat was dripping from his brow, and his strength was being spent. His hands faltered as they became too cold to move.


    A hand took hold of his neck and lifted him up.


    Then he saw Melchious. Not Melchious the vulture. Or Melchious the wraith. Or even Melchious is the fairest of all creatures. They were all but facets of a greater whole. A whole that had been reassembled with the deaths of his avatars. Here was a being of unfathomable malice, devoid of pity, who wore horror and atrocity as a cloak.


    And there was a light within.


    "You fool. Elranor has no power here," said Melchious. "You might have torn down my pillars, but his worshippers are few and far between. It would take a miracle of unparalleled power to break this spell, and the rules of the gods are against him here.


    "Hold your spell, Dreaming Goddess. Or I''ll wring his neck."


    William realized that Kiyora had snuck up to the void and was working against it. He could feel the grip of Melchious tightening around him. Then Melchious blinked and shuddered, then let go of him. William fell and saw that Felix had driven a blade into the side of the demon. Melchious smashed him with a fist and drew out the blade of the Nakmar, which even now was turning an unholy red.


    He raised the sword to kill Felix, but William stepped between them and raised his shield. The blow held the weight of a mountain. It forced him to his knee, but William arose again and drove it upward. Melchious turned the blade with his Axe and knocked William''s legs out from under him.


    William hit the ground and heard the sound of screaming, not in his ears but in his mind. People throughout the Iron Kingdom, men, women, and children, were all now falling into the spell. Mother''s killed their children. Lifelong friends grappled with life or death. Each and every one of them was smiling. At the same time, they screamed.


    But Kiyora stood by the Void Stone, channeled her magic, and directed it with all she had. A bright light emanated around them, illuminating the entire room. Melchious turned and shielded his eyes.


    "Please! You have to help us!" cried Kiyora. Some murmured response came to him. It was the trees. She was talking to the trees. "Look, I broke the pillars, didn''t I! If you don''t help me, thousands of people will die! What? This isn''t their fault! Melchious, Melchious is the one who did it! Please, help us!"


    But there was only a contemptuous murmur of contempt and malice. She entreated repeatedly, but the trees refused to help or listen. They owed Kiyora nothing. The light faded, and Kiyora sank to her knees in despair. Melchious laughed. "So the spirits of the land have refused to help you. It is to be expected. After all, the people were the ones who erected those pillars.


    "Whether it was on my orders or not, they were responsible. You can understand how the trees might nurse a grudge." Then he looked to the door with eyes farsighted. "Well, it seems the madness is passing. There are holdouts, of course. Quite a few holdouts, I suppose I can thank you, would-be heroes, for that particular absurdity. Even I couldn''t drive the gods out completely. And those who remained faithful to them were all spared. That, as well as some others.


    "Ah, well, I imagine I could make good sport of them later. I''ll get what I want from them one way or the other."


    "I suppose the Withering King will take what remains." He cast aside Felix''s sword. The wound it had inflicted healed in moments. "I should kill you all now. But then, it would be a shame if no one survived to tell the tale of the Iron Kingdom. What is the purpose of art if no one looks at it?"


    Anger returned to William, a rage like nothing else. How many innocent people died because of him? How many? Too many to count? And for what? What had it all been for?


    He stood up and charged blindly at Melchious. He swung his sword but was thrown back by his will. Melchious regarded him with contempt as he raised a hand. "Fool. Let this be a lesson. No righteous anger will allow you to challenge me, for I am the stronger.


    "I shall kill at least one of you now to ensure the lesson is well learned."


    Melchious pointed his hand toward Tanith. Then, a blade passed through his hand. Melchious stepped backward with a flinch and ducked back to avoid losing his head. There was a shower of blood, and the hand regrew. "Well, another would-be hero. Who is it this time?"


    William looked to see their savior, clad in armor. Then he blinked. "Mother?!"


    The Lady Azgora stood before them, clad as a god for war.

 Chapter 282 - Twenty-EIght: The Might of Azgora

    Mother was clad in her silver armor. Her face was concealed beneath a bright helm, and on her back was a flowing white cape. Her sword was in her hand, emblazoned with gold. Her shining shield was on her other arm, emblazoned with a lightning bolt symbol. It was the symbol of Zeya.


    Melchious drew back, spinning the Axe of Fortenex into a stance as he did so. A smile came to his face, and he looked fair once more. "The Lady Azgora. I would have expected Raynald."


    Mother ignored Melchious. Instead, she looked at William, moving to him. "My son, are you all right?" S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Was he all right? The enormity of what had happened dawned on William. He nearly threw up, almost cried. Despite his best efforts, he couldn''t help but choke back a sob. "He killed them, Mother, everyone in the Iron Kingdom! He killed them all!"


    "I don''t see what you''re so upset about," noted Arraxia, rising up with her tail coiled. "It isn''t as if you knew any of them personally. Moreover, they were all rather boring anyway."


    "Sometimes, I remember why I let you live as long as I did, Arraxia," laughed Melchious. And he spun his axe in a flourish.


    Then he wasn''t laughing. Instead, he was falling backward. The wounds where his eyes had once been bled across his face. Mother slashed twice more, and his ears came off. With one final movement, the Lady Azgora tossed her sword. Then she rammed her fist so hard against Melchious'' mouth that his teeth shattered.


    Then, yanking backward, she pulled out his forked tongue. Down came her blade to cut right through it and plant itself in the ground before her. Tossing aside the tongue, she drew up her sword. Melchious fell backward, pouring blood all over the flagstones of his palace. Yet he was as silent as the stone.


    There were no screams of pain as the demon lord put his hands over his face. No moans of agony as the Axe of Fortenex clattered to the ground. A mist of red arose around him, cloaking him so that he was hidden from sight. Then, a clawed hand took up the Axe of Fortenex, and Melchious emerged.


    No more was he veiled in white. Nor were his features angelic. His hands had become clawed. His eyes were flaming gold and filled with hatred. His teeth were like knives, and he had a pair of horns on his head.


    And yet, he had not lost his composure. There was no anger in his bearing. The malice that fueled him was without fire. The agony he had felt seemed nothing to him. "I''m impressed, Azgora. You do seem to possess some talent as a warrior."


    "You don''t know what a warrior is," said Mother.


    They surged toward each other and met in a flurry of blows that blurred the air. Back and forth, they fought. They stepped around each other and exchanged blows of terrible power. Their cloaks billowed around them like wings. Their weapons gleamed in mutual blows, sending shockwaves through the air. One glanced off Azgora''s helm and forced her reeling backward. In triumph, Melchious leaped back and raised a hand. What seemed like red lightning shot forward. It wrapped around Mother, who was frozen in place, gritting her teeth.


    "A small spell but one I find useful," said Melchious. "It causes agony undreamed of to the one it is cast upon. No mere mortal may withstand it."


    Mother brought up her sword and lunged. Melchious nearly had his throat cut as a flurry of blows were set against him. "I am no mere mortal! The blood of Zeya runs in the veins of all my people! We are her chosen servants, and you will die by my hand!"


    Melchious parried the blows with careful ease. Sliding back, he turned the tables and struck back. "Am I to be impressed because the blood of the Rape Goddess flows through your veins? That is no achievement on your part.


    "Still, I see why Vanion went to the trouble of taming you." Then he took a shield to the face and reeled away.


    "You would never understand," said Mother, lunging to finish him.


    Melchious parried it and struck her across the face with the haft of his axe. The blow sent Azgora staggering backward to hit a pillar. She fell to a knee, then arose, leaning forward to set one hand against the pillar. "Do not confuse absolute contempt with a lack of understanding. I prefer to break my conquests. Taming them leaves them with far too much self-will.


    "As I shall break you."


    The pillar cracked. And Mother smiled as she sheathed her sword. Down came the pillar, and Mother caught it with one hand before spinning it around to hurl it at Melchious. The demon lord leaped over it. The pillar passed under him, struck the other row, and smashed right through them.


    Even as Melchious landed, Azgora was on him. She smashed him with her shield, and he was thrown backward. The Axe of Fortenex fell from his hand as he cracked against the broken wall.


    He landed and caught himself on one knee. For the first time, there was genuine rage there.


    "Wretched woman," he said, voice low. "Until now, I have only toyed with you. Now witness the unbridled power of the Axe of Fortenex-" He reached out as if to summon it.


    But the Axe was gone. Arraxia was standing by the entrance, waving. In her left hand was the Axe of Fortenex. In her right was the Void Stone, dark as its name. "Thank you, Lady Azgora, for distracting my former master. I shall remember you fondly for at least a few moments after your death."


    "You!" hissed Melchious.


    "Yes, me," said Arraxia. "Farewell Melchious."


    And she was gone, rushing down the halls. Melchious surged after her, but the ceiling above him cracked as he did. The entire left side of the throne room crumbled and fell inwards. Melchious let out a scream before he was buried beneath the rubble. The light of stars poured into the throne room from above.


    As the dust settled, there was silence.


    Then there were a primal howl. Out of the rubble came Melchious again. Now, all semblance of humanity had been shed. Wings like those of a hawk grew from his back as his hands became talons. Unharmed, he surged upward, laughing.


    Azgora surged after him, scaling the rubble. Rising, William snatched up his sword and followed. Coming out to the top, he saw the vastness of the dead kingdom all around him. The stench of death surrounded them, and William wretched as Melchious surged into the air.


    Turning around, Melchious drew a bow of fire. Pulling it back, he loosed an arrow of blue flame. As it shot forward, it split into thousands of arrows that surged down. Azgora raised her shield and kneeled, letting it cover her. The arrows struck the domed roof, and the stone melted and broke. But at it struck the shield, Azgora stood firm. As she did, she clenched a fist that began to crackle with lightning. The clouds gathered above them.


    Stolen story; please report.


    Then, four bolts of lightning descended from on high toward Melchious. He surged away as his flame arrows ceased. However, the lightning shot toward Azgora, who caught it in hand. They formed together into a single immense spear, and William could feel the heat of it on his face. Turning around, Azgora hurled the spear. It surged toward Melchious, and all the lands were bathed in white light for an instant. Yet Melchious lashed out with a whip, cutting a great tower in half. The tower fell between them, and the lightning bolt hit it. The stones and masonry exploded. Fragments were sent all around, and William ducked as stones fell near him.


    Looking up, he saw Melchious surging toward Azgora with duel whips of flame in his hands. Before she could move, her sword was snatched away. A moment later, she lost her shield, and Melchious struck again. But Azgora caught the whip in one gauntleted hand. She wrapped it around her wrist and pulled Melchious toward her.


    Bring around a fist, she smashed one hand through his chest. Dragging out his heart, she crushed it before his eyes. As he howled in agony, she grabbed his horns and smashed his skull against the stonework so it cracked. Yet Melchious reformed, looking more animalistic than ever, and soon they were fighting.


    Claw against fist, they grappled with one another. Azgora''s strength was beyond Melchious'' power to break. But flames poured from her wound to writhe her in flames, even as her hands pulsed with lightning. His claws surged for her eyes as something in his body snapped. A bladed tail surged from his back to stab at Azgora''s back but scraped off her armor. Wrapping it around her waist, he threw her off balance.


    Yet even as he did, Azgora adjusted her stance and threw him across the roof to hurl him from the balance. Turning in midair, Melchious found one of his wings broken and he fell like a stone into the streets beyond. The dead city stood forlorn and terrible for a moment.


    Then Mother''s eyes began to glow with a white light that soon emanated all around her. Soon, she rose into the air as the clouds above blotted out all light. Lightning began to surge down, hundreds of different bolts. One after another poured into Azgora''s outstretched hand. Together, they formed into a dense bolt of lightning that whited out all save her.


    Then Melchious arose from the streets, now less a being by himself but an evil presence in the mockery of a man. His form, a thing of flame and blood, rose high over all the city. A maw opened to reveal the unending horrors of the universe. All the city was now aflame around them as he surged toward Azgora.


    A wave of dark flame surged toward her as she hurled her bolt.


    Darkness and light battled, ripping and tearing. All the world was bathed in unfathomable twilight. There was a scream, and then Melchious was burned away.


    Victory was theirs.


    William lost track of time after that; the world seemed to blur as the clouds burst. Rain poured down on his face as he drifted, hardly able to speak. Cruel dawn rose over the city, revealing only the dead.


    The blood was washed away, but the corpses remained. No one spoke, or perhaps William didn''t hear them.


    Wherever they walked, they found people dead, murdered, or having committed suicide. A few had been killed without any sign of injury, perhaps by dark magic. However, from the palace''s towers, William had been able to perceive some survivors. These had fled at the sight of them. It seemed that the bloodshed had been less effective outside the city.


    His efforts blunted the efforts of Melchious. And Melchious himself had lost an avatar.


    It was a small comfort. William wondered if the healer who had helped him had survived? Certainly, she''d seemed strong-willed. Perhaps she and others like her had weathered the storm. At the moment, he couldn''t remember her name. Or the names of those that he had saved from Grendesh. They had been faithful to Elranor, so they''d still be alive.


    "Are you all alive and whole?" asked Mother.


    It should have been the first thing they said, but no one felt like speaking. Looking at Mother then, she''d seemed more god than human. Zeya truly must have been immensely powerful in granting such abilities. Then William realized he hadn''t answered, and Mother was looking concerned.


    "Yes, thanks to you," said William.


    "Good," said Azgora. "Come quickly. There is a ship waiting for us in the harbor. We must leave."


    "But the people..." said Kiyora.


    "They are dead," said Azgora. "Only if we escape this place can we hope to avenge them. Vanion will look after those that remain when he gets here."


    They wandered through the broken halls of the palace. As they made their way out, they saw more and more corpses. Then, they passed from the palace and into the city. They saw no one alive. Were there no survivors? No people who had resisted the call to madness and clung to life among the ruins?


    He hoped so. Perhaps they had stood in terror of his company and chosen to hide. Certainly, no one had had time to do an exhaustive search of the grim ruins. Only the inner palace.


    "All this death," said Kiyora. "There were children. Babies. Little girls. He killed them all. I couldn''t save them."


    "Of course, you couldn''t," said Azgora. "Melchious is a demon of unfathomable power, and he was infused with the strength of Fortenex. It was pure hubris for you to think you could break his enchantment. Even with the Goldenwood Harp, you and William could not have stopped him."


    "We could have! We could!" said Kiyora. "It was the spirits! The spirits of the land! They wouldn''t help! They wouldn''t do anything! All they could think about was how the ancestors of the people in this kingdom raised a bunch of pillars! They didn''t even care about the people!"


    "It could have been worse," said Felix.


    "How?!" screamed Kiyora. "How could it have been worse?!"


    "Melchious could have used the pillars as a focus to drive the entire continent of Viokinar mad. Then he could murder us and escape with the axe," said Felix. "The bloodletting from such a result would probably recharge the axe again. Allowing him to do the same elsewhere." Kiyora fell silent.


    "Elranor saved the faithful, at least," said Tanith, who was a bit somber.


    "Why couldn''t he save them all?!" said Kiyora. "They didn''t deserve this! It isn''t fair!"


    "Of course, it isn''t," said Felix. "Why is one man born a pauper and another an emperor? Why do the strong prey on the weak? Life isn''t fair." How the hell was he so composed? It was like he didn''t even care? No, he was used to all this.


    What had Felix seen to make him like this? William thought it must have been during his time in Calisha. No wonder Tanith had been so nuts.


    They suddenly came to a halt. Before them, they saw a mother. She was lying against the steps of a house with a smile. In her hands was clutched a sword. It was driven through a child''s body and then through her stomach. And she was smiling. William turned away, but Azgora put a hand on his shoulder.


    "Don''t look away," she commanded. "This is the face of hell. This is what happens when demons are allowed to win. It was not by your failure that this place fell, but the failure of generations. Thousands should have acted but didn''t. Thousands knew what they did to be wrong, yet followed orders anyway.


    "Look at it, acknowledge it, and learn from it."


    William did look. Look at this abomination. This horror beyond imagining wrought by the mind of a creature that still lived and breathed. Something that should have never been but had been. It stayed with him long after they had left that place.


    They came to the docks, where the sea gates had been shattered. There, they found a boat waiting for them. Hrungeld was there. "Lady Azgora, you''re here. We feared the worst."


    "Set sail at once," said Mother. "There is nothing left in this place but ashes and death."


    Hrungeld looked around, then nodded. "I understand."


    They stepped onto the boat and set sail soon enough. As they left behind them a forsaken and broken land, William took off his helmet and threw it to the ground. Then he looked to those around him. His friends. His companions. They seemed as broken as he felt.


    He looked to Mother last of all. "How did you find us?"


    "Zeya was my guide," said Azgora. "You are important to her. I have told you that you have the destiny to fulfill."


    William could have asked. But he didn''t care about destiny right now. He wanted only one thing to happen in his future, and nothing was mysterious about it. The day stretched on as the Iron Kingdom sank into the distance. He stood there on the ship, wanting to scream. But he didn''t.


    "... I''ll kill him," he resolved at last. "I don''t care how long it takes. I don''t care what I have to do. I''ll kill Melchious one day. I''ll cut and plunge his powerless soul into the abyss prepared for him."


    No one replied. Kiyora was staring into space, hugging Massacre with dead eyes. Felix looked back at the Iron City, and Tanith was sharpening her blade. Mother looked at him. "I''m proud of you," she said suddenly.


    "What?" said William.


    "You''re finally acting like a warrior," said Mother. "It will be a long time before Melchious may recover from what I have done to him and set foot in this world again. And when he does, I am sure you will be ready to put a final end to him."


    "I''ll help you get him, William," said Kiyora suddenly.


    "And I''ll be there as well," said Tanith. "We''ll kill that bastard."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "...The world would be a much better place without people like him," said Felix, not looking up.


    "I will help you."


    "Thank you," said William. "All of you. It won''t be today or tomorrow. But we''ll see justice done. One way or another."


    The future would be grim. It would have much darkness. And William wasn''t sure he wanted to know what it held. However, he knew this much: One day, he would end Melchious forever. Even if it was his own death to do so.

 Chapter 283 - The Father of Withering

    So, Web of Iron is complete. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    This most recent book is a pivotal moment within William''s arc and the overall story. Many elements of the plot will be shifting henceforth. Melchious'' victory here symbolizes many things. Not the least of them is not what happens when he wins.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Some readers complained that Melchious seemed a bit toothless as a villain. Hopefully, this should show just why he is so dreaded.


    We''ll return to Relma Artorious and her companions in the next installment. They will be having a very different sort of adventure.


    Stay tuned for the Father of Withering.

 Chapter 284 - Prologue: Among a Broken Realm

    The Iron Kingdom lay in ashes. Overnight, the people had been driven into a blood-crazed fury. One that had seen them butcher each other. Their corpses lined the streets and buildings. Those scattered villages protected by the gods were besieged. Clans of satyrs and giants came out of the mountains to take what land remained.


    But help was at hand. Colonization ships arrived under the golden cobra of House Gabriel. Black-armored men, with armies of mercenaries at their command, met the coming monstrosities. Three battles had already been fought, and the invaders had been checked. From there, the Harlenorians had shored up the defenders. Dead villages were being buried, and their houses were repurposed for the colonists '' use.


    Many a funeral was held over mass graves. Duke Vanion, the colonists'' leader, saw to it that the bodies were given rites and as much dignity as possible. He made contact with local leaders and coordinated with them for mutual gain.


    The Iron Kingdom would recover. But it would be a long wait.


    Lucius felt a twinge of pride for his students '' efforts. The spell had been a work of genius, set up over centuries. And Melchious had swelled the numbers of his raishan hordes for centuries. He looked to Karasush, the Sorcerer. "Melchous has done his work well."


    "Yes," said Karasush, a note of distaste in his tone. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He''d hoped Fortenex''s minions would have an easy slaughter in taking the land. Instead, they were going to have a serious fight on their hands. "As usual. He might have done it better if you hadn''t allowed William to slip through your domain."


    That too, had been a work of genius, albeit of a different kind. A plan had been thrown together hastily to interfere with Melchious'' designs. And the survivors owed their lives to it. Still, Lucius took exception to one remark. "My domain? What do you mean? It belongs to the Withering King, and it was he who proclaimed that he be allowed a headstart.


    "William merely made good use of the time given to him."


    "And had you sicced your Einheroth on him right away, he wouldn''t have had the chance," noted Karasush. Karasush had a history of William Gabriel interfering with his plans.


    Lucius was not one to hold a grudge. He enjoyed the game and liked to see the newer players earn their spurs. He was certain William would make an excellent rival to Melchious. The dear boy always did his best when striving against some great hero. "Perhaps. But as your master favors blood and death, I favor humanity. William has the makings of a great champion of the human race. I thought it would be a shame for his story to end there. Besides, Melchious prefers to have someone to test himself against.


    "He''ll find much more entertainment matching wits against a worthy opponent. And I expect he''ll enjoy a vendetta with Azgora."


    "She slashed him to ribbons and blasted him with lightning," noted Karasush.


    Lucius chuckled. "Melchious has an immense tolerance for pain. And he does his best work when seeking vengeance. And now William has sworn vengeance himself.


    "Believe me, Karasush, it shall make for a worthy saga.


    "What would have happened if I had allowed William to be killed? Melchious should have wiped out the Iron Kingdom entirely. All would be dead. Vanion would have held some small territories for colonization. But no great wars or deeds would come from the conflict.


    "As it stands, the foundations have been laid for a new realm."


    "My master, Fortenex, understands this," said Karasush in irritation. "And that is why he has not pressed the matter. But I disagree entirely. Had the Iron Kingdom been cleared away, we could have opened one of the gates within this place.


    "Fortenex''s chosen could have established colonies with ease.


    "Instead, our territorial gains will be smaller and only gained after a serious fight."


    "Your caution serves your master well," said Lucius. "But I''m certain they will glad to face a worthy enemy. Their kind prefers to take the path of most resistance." Then, turning, he began to float away, his cloak fading behind him.


    "Where are you going now, Lucius?" asked Karasush.


    Lucius looked up, still fading. "Karasush, you are of the bloodline of my secondborn, and I am concerned for your wellbeing. But I see no reason why I should discuss my plans with you."


    "You might enjoy explaining them," said Karasush flatly. He didn''t sound like someone who thought he''d been clever. His tone was calm.


    Lucius remembered why he liked this fellow. There was a rare sorcerer of the dark powers who was wholly practical in his methods. He allowed himself to rematerialize. "I suppose I would. It might pass the time between cradle and oblivion. I''m heading to the southeast, beyond the Black Mountain. To the Dusk Lands."


    "To what end?" asked Karasush.


    "The Dust Elves have made their new homeland there," said Lucius. "Or they did decades ago. Perhaps in a century, one loses track of time. They have other holdings in other lands, but that is the only place they and they alone possess.


    "I''ve already exterminated the Dreamer Elves.


    "I thought I might make the Dust Elves the next on my list."


    "Why?" asked Karasush.


    Lucius laughed. "I enjoy raising armies of undead to destroy civilizations. I don''t like elves. And I''m rather in the mood for some plotting."


    "Surely, you must need more reason to destroy a species than that," said Karasush.


    "On the contrary, Karasush," said Lucius, "I can. I am. And there is nothing you can do to stop me. Melchious has worshippers for that reason, but not Fortenex. And when you get a message to that place, my plans will already be in motion."


    "There are times, Lucius, that I wonder why my people ceased to worship you," said Karasush. "Then I see how joyless you are in the destruction you wreak, and I wonder no more. Melchious destroys because he enjoys it, but you do it as a hobby. Something to pass one idle and meaningless moment to the next.


    "Have you considered taking up wood carving?"


    "My children are entitled to do and believe as they wish," said Lucius. "My only interest is in ensuring they inherit the world." And he was about to leave.


    "...The Dust Elves are home to the last remaining Dark Gate in this world, aren''t they?" asked Karasush.


    His education had served him well. Had he lips, Lucius should have smiled. "Indeed, they are. I am glad your education shows itself, Karasush. In fact, it lies within my stronghold of Del Gabor. Why the interest?"


    "It occurs to me that we have not tested the creation of gates," said Karasush. "The Dark Gate within that realm might be useful as a... testing ground.


    "To iron out any kinks in the spellwork."


    "The Dark Gates were not meant to go between worlds, Karasush," said Lucius. "They were meant to transport people across miles. The two are different tasks."


    "I know," said Karasush. "But there is some overlap. And it isn''t as though there are more Dark Gates to connect it to."


    "What are you suggesting?" asked Lucius. He was genuinely curious.


    "An alliance of sorts," said Karasush. "I will contact the sorcerers on the other side. I may convince them to send through a small colonization effort. That effort will then assist you in seizing control of the Dust Lands.


    "We learn more about the process. And it will be no great loss if we fail."


    "Well, it seems a worthwhile means to pass the time," said Lucius. "Very well then, I shall make the arrangements.


    "Now, if you''ll excuse me, my wraiths have some disputes I must judge. Farewell."


    As Lucius departed, his form vanished first. Just before his will went away, he saw Karasush walk off, muttering to himself. "...I truly hate that man." He heard him say.


    Well, Lucius couldn''t account for taste.

 Chapter 285 - One: Preparations

    They would be leaving soon.


    The office of Steward Benarus had more books in it than the last time Relma had seen it. And he''d read virtually all of them enough to put creases in the covers. Given how many books there had been, that was saying something. Benarus was a collector, and one of the libraries he''d funded had nearly burned down. Until the repairs were finished, those surviving books had been moved. Fortunately, Relma had been able to get the fire to avoid them.


    As they approached the desk, Benarus shook Estela''s hand with a look of clear pride. Relma knew they were close, though she had never found it in herself to respect Benarus. Not since the Tournament of Kings, anyway. The memory of him ignoring justice for convenience was still on her. Though she would never say as much out loud. "Lady Estela, I''ve been expecting you. Please, sit down." He sat down in his elaborate chair. Estela did the same while Relma remained just behind the seat, standing. "Then, you will be leaving soon?"


    "Yes, we''ve already made most of the arrangements," said Estela. "And we''d have to set out sooner or later."


    "That I will not dispute, Lady Estela," said Benarus with a smile. "Gel Carn will be less bright for your absence, however. Sir Frederick and many others have already gone west to the Black Marshes as things stand. There may be a battle for them to fight soon enough.


    "Still, are you sure of the route? The Black Marshes have never been safe, and word from Lord Anias is that the satyrs are mustering. It may be wise to reconsider."


    "Didn''t Lord Anias deny that report," asked Estela.


    "He did," admitted Benarus, looking a bit grim. He leaned back in his chair and looked over the stacks and stacks of books. "But Lord Anias is not a man I am fond of, nor have I learned to rely on him. He is... self-interested and more than a little slothful. I trust Anton far more. If I were you, I should head south, over the Golden River, and go around the Black Marshes. It may take a few extra weeks, but you will dodge a much more dangerous journey. One that could leave a large part of your forces dead."


    Ever the cautious, never the bold. Though there was merit in the suggestion, Relma knew Estela would not listen.


    "I understand that Steward Benarus," said Estela. "However, I''m going to have to take the chance. The Kingdom of Estal is nearly bankrupt. Stormstrike is contemplating rebellion, and the Dragon Empire is mustering to the south. My winnings from the treasury will be needed to raise an army.


    "And pay off several debts that may cause others to side against us."


    "Well, you''ve decided then, and I don''t intend to say any more on it," said Benarus.


    He sighed and looked out one window into the castle courtyard. They were still cleaning up from the tournament. Finally, he looked back. "You''ve been with us since you were twelve. You were something of a troublemaker in your youth, Lady Estela. But your service has been invaluable to me." Both of those were probably polite understatements. "You have my leave, of course." He fell silent for a moment. "That said, your request to take Ajax with you is..."


    "Yes?" asked Estela.


    "Well, it is not one I chose to grant lightly," said Benarus. "But, he does know the Black Marshes better than anyone, so he is the best choice.


    "Telix has agreed to send another to take his place while he is away. Ajax will know that if he betrays us, another of his family will die. He will lead you through the Black Marshes and to Escor.


    "Even so, I should not trust him any further than he can be thrown." Then he looked to Relma and eyed her warily. "Squire Relma, are you certain of going on this expedition?"


    "Well, I am Estela''s squire," said Relma, choosing her words carefully. "And I need to see Escor. Even if I never become King of anything, I must understand Escor." She did not want to reveal that she did not fully trust Benarus to act in her interests. She knew he''d act in what he thought was her interest. But thinking and doing were two very different things.


    "She will have plenty of help already, Relma," noted Benarus. "Reginald De Chevlon and Varsus Gabriel have already agreed to accompany Estela. My niece, Fayn, has also volunteered. And De Cathe will be going as well.


    "There is no need for you to put yourself at risk."


    "Thank you," said Relma, remembering how Fayn had nearly been hung by him. She hadn''t quite put that behind her, though she had forgiven him. "But... well... I wish to go all the same. Do I have your leave?"


    "Of course," said Benarus.


    Relma paused, unsure if she should ask. "Why is Fayn going out of curiosity?"


    "She wishes to fight in the wars," said Benarus grimly. "I allowed her to go to be rid of her."


    "Steward Benarus, may I ask you something?" asked Relma.


    "Of course," said Benarus.


    "Why do you hold Fayn in such hatred?" asked Relma.


    Benarus remained silent. He drummed his fingers along the surface of a book for a moment. His expression was stern. Finally, he spoke. "...When she was five, I gave her a puppy. She drenched it in oil, set it on fire, and laughed. That more or less told me everything I need to know about how she''d do as a Steward."


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    Relma shuddered. She''d known Fayn loved fire, but that was harsh. "Well... that is pretty bad."


    "And that is an understatement," said Benarus. "The girl is a beast." Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Did anyone ever tell her no?" asked Relma.


    "Hmm?" said Benarus.


    "Well, I mean, I was told she was raised by servants," said Relma. "Did anyone ever try to stop her from doing that sort of thing?"


    Benarus sighed, and Relma saw a man tired by years of labor suddenly. Relma knew his brother, Cervan, had been a monster who had come to a monstrous end. Stories of what had been found about him were still told to scare children. "My dear girl, right and wrong cannot be taught. We all know when our actions are wrong. We merely tell ourselves otherwise to justify them.


    "At any rate, she is going with you. Given that she seems to have gained some regard for you, I expect you''ll be able to keep her in check.


    "But I would mourn losing you."


    That more or less concluded the meeting. Though Benarus spoke at length with Estela on many things. Relma, for her part, was convinced that Benarus was on her side. She was not, however, convinced that that was entirely a good thing.


    Relma and Estela made their way out when the meeting was officially over. In the hall, they found Ajax. The wolf-boy had his arms crossed, and his white hair had been better combed. He stood as Estela approached. "So, how did it go?"


    "I''ve gotten Benarus to let you take us through the Black Marshes, Ajax," said Estela, pushing a strand from her hair.


    "Oh, good. I was going to go anyway," said Ajax.


    "You should act like the terms of this agreement mean something to you," said Estela. Ajax shrugged. "Why? They don''t."


    "Forget it, Estela," said Relma. "Ajax, out of curiosity, why do you know the Black Marshes so well? They''re a long way from the Wolven Forest."


    "I go there to get all my poisons," said Ajax. "Or I did. There are all kinds of plants in that place that can kill you. Some can heal. Ever heard of Blood Moss?"


    "No, what is it?" asked Relma.


    "A moss with remarkable healing powers," said Ajax. "It dates back to before the breaking of the Goddess Triad. Back when Laevian did more than spread diseases."


    "Goddess Triad?" asked Relma. "I haven''t heard that phrase before."


    "He means the three elven goddesses," said Estela as they walked out of the halls. "My Father told me about them. There was Alchara of the High Elves. Then Laevian of the Dust Elves, and the Dreaming Goddess of the... well, she didn''t have a race last I checked. Or at least I''ve never heard what they were."


    "But every god has a race," said Relma.


    "Not the Dreaming Goddess," said Ajax, drawing a knife and spinning it on his fingers. "Her worship mostly was relegated as a secondary god."


    "Actually, there are some places she is worshipped fully," said Estela. "I heard about them in the Khasmir campaign from Raynald De Chevlon. The Nakmar Dwarves in Seathorius worship her first and foremost. Many of the satyrs do as well.


    "Do you remember Sir Gabriel from the Tournament of Kings?" They came out of the castle and into the main courtyard of Gel Carn. Troops were drilling within it; their spears pointed over their huge round shields. Their helmets covered their faces, and their armor was polished heavily.


    "Yes," said Relma. She''d liked William, even if she''d been on the opposite side.


    "Well, apparently, he is considered one of her champions," said Estela.


    "But he''s a paladin of Elranor," said Relma.


    "It''s a dual allegiance of sorts," said Estela. "He built a temple to her in Artarq. I saw it under construction."


    "Temples," scoffed Ajax.


    "Why the scorn?" asked Relma.


    "You humans build all these huge structures to symbolize things," said Ajax. "But they''re ugly and unnatural. Give me the roots and branches of trees any day."


    "Ajax, you''re half-wolf," said Relma. "We don''t have your natural advantages. And we have to get out of the rain somehow.


    "Besides, you warped the trees of the Wolven Forest into a fortress. That''s just as unnatural."


    "No, it isn''t," said Ajax, crossing his arms and giving her a flat look.


    "Yes, it is, "said Estela. "You''re using magic to create something which wouldn''t happen otherwise. How is that different from putting a bunch of stones on top of each other?"


    "We don''t clearcut entire forests to do it," shot back Ajax. "The trees are still alive and flourish. When you humans build villages, you hack down miles of trees. Then, you use their rotting carcasses to build homes.


    "How would you react if I built a house out of human corpses?"


    "That''s completely different," said Estela.


    "How?" asked Ajax.


    Estela remained silent. "...Well, what about you?


    "How would you react if I warped the bodies of wolves so that they were formed to form a mass of living flesh? One that I used as my shelter. Trapped in place, unable to move, but still alive. That''s what you''re doing with the trees."


    "That isn''t the same at all," said Ajax. "Trees don''t mind how they grow."


    "Well then, there''s your answer," said Estela.


    "There is a huge difference between shifting how a tree grows and hacking them in two," snapped Ajax.


    "I don''t care what the trees think, to be perfectly honest," admitted Estela.


    "Why didn''t you just say that before, then?" asked Relma.


    Estela shrugged. "I thought I might as well win the argument first."


    "Well, you wasted your time, then," said Ajax.


    "Can we focus?" asked Relma. "We''ve got to prepare for the trip."


    "You''ve got to prepare, you mean," said Estela, opening her pouch and drawing out a letter. She offered it to Relma, who took it. "Relma, I want you to get everything on this list together by tomorrow."


    Relma unrolled it and read through it in surprise. "What is all this?"


    "It''s a list of tools and equipment that De Cathe recommends everyone carry," said Estela. "I want enough for both of us."


    "Ten-foot pole?" asked Relma. "What''s this for?"


    "To test the firmness of ground and how deep pools of water are," said Ajax. "Among other things."


    "Well, how am I supposed to carry two ten-foot poles and all the rest?" asked Relma. "Along with all this other stuff?"


    "I''ll help you carry it," said Ajax.


    "Thanks," said Relma.


    Then Estela offered her a bag of coins. "Take this. It should be enough to buy the supplies."


    "Yes, Master Estela," said Relma.


    "Knock it off and get moving," said Estela.


    Relma laughed. "Sorry."


    Relma sprinted off alongside Ajax. They''d be leaving soon, but as usual, there were preparations to make. At least things would be getting interesting again...

 Chapter 286 - Two: Fyar, Lord of Flies

    Relma spent the day gathering together everything Estela had asked for. She remembered how Ronald and she had drawn up plans during this time. Plans on how to plan different kinds of trips. She took two rope sets, one to use and one to lose. In fact, she made sure they had two of everything they might need. There were also extra knives because you needed a knife. Extra rations and some bread and cheese for a nice breakfast early on were purchased and bought.


    Also, Estela had a spare sword from the armor, given in case her one broke. And, of course, there was a spear and extra arrows from the fletcher, which Relma would carry for Estela. On and on it went until Relma realized her pack was getting pretty heavy.


    But then, they would be gone for quite some time. These packs were going to get a lot lighter soon. Things got lost on the road, and you never knew what you might need. After consideration, she added an extra canteen and supplies and made a pack for Ajax.


    It took far longer than Relma would have liked, and she only managed to get the rest in time to go to bed. That night, she slept fitfully, not sure about leaving Gel Carn. Now and then, her thoughts turned to her home back in the lands of Lord Anton. She and Ronald had grown up there together.


    Now Ronald was gone off with Sir Frederick, questing. She wondered what adventures they had been having and if he would tell her about them later. Though, who knew when he''d actually get back. It could be months or even years, depending on what demanded Sir Frederick''s attention. By the time Relma met Estela the next day, she wasn''t feeling very well rested. The upcoming journey had weighed on her mind, and she''d hardly slept a wink. She felt quite miserable, actually.


    Why had Ronald had to leave? They''d been a group before, but now the group had broken up. It just didn''t feel right going off without him. But he was off in Blackfear, having adventures keeping the roads safe from the undead. An important task with the blessing of Steward Benarus and Baroness Saphra Delenay. It was helping people. Ronald had promised to do it in her name.


    It was important, and it could do a lot to both shores up Relma''s support and help her. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The meeting place was on the road just outside the gates of Gel Carn. It had been set up near some old stones erected to appease local fairies long ago. No fairies dwelled here now, but the markings had gone cold, and the glow disappeared. Aunt Pan had told her that once they had glowed constantly with the power of Isriath. But as her power faded, magic departed this place, and other spirits came to replace them.


    Estela sat by an ordinary stone near the shrine and polished her shield. Her helm was at her feet, and her armor was on her while her bow was propped up against the shrine. She looked beautiful in the sun, with her hair falling around her shoulders. She looked up as Relma and Ajax drew near. "Do you have all the supplies?"


    "Yes, of course I do," said Relma, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "We had to spend most of yesterday looking for them, but we found them."


    "Easy for you to say. I carried most of it," muttered Ajax. Ajax was about twice as strong as any of them put together. Relma had seen him in action personally. She and Estela had been throwing around like ragdolls when they''d fought last.


    "No, you didn''t," said Relma, who had a lot of endurance over short distances. "I carried just as much as you, and you''re a quarter-demon. Where''s Aunt Pan?"


    And then Aunt Pan appeared down the path, walking with a long black staff. Her hair was tied behind her head in a bun, and she looked just as tired. "Here, dear. I just finished the last of my runes."


    "Well then, all we have to do is wait for Varsus and Reginald," said Relma. She hoped they''d slept better.


    "Actually, they went on yesterday," said Estela, not seeming near as tired. "They were planning to meet us on the borders of the Black Marsh."


    "Why are they in such a hurry?" asked Ajax, sounding suspicious.


    "I''m not sure," admitted Estela, drawing a knife and tossing it into the air. She caught it by the handle as it fell and sheathed it in one movement. "Reginald received a letter from Hawkthorne, though. He went to the border villages with De Cathe. Maybe he wanted some help with something."


    "Either way, we should probably start out," said Relma, wanting to get going. "Do you think we''ll meet Frederick and Ronald at the villages?"


    "No," said Aunt Pan with a sigh. "The Black Marshes have a very long border, and villages are everywhere. We''re headed to the domain of Lord Anias. Frederick will be further south in the lands of Lord Anton, where the satyrs will be gathering."


    "Is it serious?" asked Relma as they began to walk.


    "We don''t know," admitted Aunt Pan sadly. "There are a few rumors of satyr activity. Some say that they''ve gotten a new leader who means to lead them against us.


    "I have already made contact with many local spirits, and there does seem to be real movement. Yet the spirits are not responding to me as quickly as they should. My usual friends seem hesitant to speak to me."


    "Is it that bad?" asked Relma.


    "Better, actually," said Estela, stretching her neck with a smile. "Satyrs are a vicious piece of work. Leaders come and go all the time. They''re always backstabbing eachother. That''s why they are on good terms with demons.


    "When a demon rules over them, they can unite about something. Half a knight''s job is fighting it out with your kind, including your Father, Relma." Relma said nothing to that; she didn''t want to talk about Hadleim. The subject of the great satyr hunter who tried his hand at her task before her made her feel unimportant. Especially when you considered who he adventured. That and how much more they achieved.


    It also didn''t really interest her all that much. Hadleim was dead, as was Relma''s Mother. Why was it so important? She''d known they were dead from before she was eight. It didn''t make them important. Just because Tuor killed them, it meant nothing.


    "When was the last time there was a demon in the Blackmarsh?" asked Relma, wanting to change the subject.


    "There hasn''t been a demon in the Black Marshes for centuries," said Estela sadly. "Not since Melchious was driven out of place by Anoa V."


    "What are you babbling about, I''m a demon, and I go there all the time!" said Ajax. He sounded a bit offended, oddly enough. Relma didn''t think being called a demon was a compliment.


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    Estela looked at him in irritation. "You don''t count.


    "Either way, even if this new leader arises, the Dust Elves will just kill him. They''re the greatest assassins in the world."


    "Won''t that create a martyr?" asked Relma. It seemed a logical question.


    "You have to care about something for it to be a martyr," said Estela. "Satyrs hate eachother as much as they hate us."


    "You shouldn''t speak so freely, Estela," said Aunt Pan, voice chiding. "Satyrs are a vicious race, but they are far closer to humans than you know." She halted and looked suddenly into the forests, gaze searching through the trees.


    "What do you mean?" asked Estela.


    "It''s... well, it''s not a very pleasant story," said Aunt Pan, turning back. "And we don''t have time for it now. Suffice it to say that satyrs are, in many ways, a dark reflection of humans. A sort of twisted-"


    "I don''t care," snapped Ajax, slipping his hands into his pockets and stalking onward. Aunt Pan looked at him darkly. "Perhaps you don''t, savage. But I was not speaking with you."


    "Oh, I''m sure you weren''t, but I must listen to you talk. So shut up," snapped Ajax.


    The two of them had never gotten on well at all. Relma supposed some things wouldn''t change, however much she wished otherwise. There''s no reason not to try changing them. "Ajax, that wasn''t respectful." That was what she said.


    "You needn''t concern yourself, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "I don''t expect courtesy from such a beast."


    "And I wouldn''t expect to understand from-"Relma set a hand to Ajax''s shoulder, and he halted. Their eyes met, and finally, he looked away. "Never mind."


    Relma remained silent for a time as they walked, admiring the scenery. The woods and trees grew thick in these regions, but she''d heard of forests even greater. It was said that far to the south, near the Ghost Mountains, there were vast trees. Trees are taller than castles and thicker than towers. The villages out here were built with manned walls and stood in their perpetual shadow. And sure enough, their packs had gotten lighter as they journeyed over the days.


    She wished she could see these empty lands where no one dwelled. But few people ever ventured that far, for it had been a domain of Laevian for centuries. Laevian and lesser demons, such as Adrianeth, of whom Relma had heard only a little. Supposedly, he lived in some ancient, overgrown castle. He sent demons to attack those who crossed the river. Only in recent decades had men begun to return, and they were only a few scattered villages. Until then, nobody had even known Adrianeth existed in that part of the world.


    Nobody really knew how he''d ended up in that place.


    Gel Carn became gradually more distant as they headed west. As they went into forested regions near the Black Marsh. Relma remembered something she had heard in several places. "Aunt Pan, is it true my father fought in the satyr wars?"


    "He did," said Aunt Pan, nodding. "That was where I met him, actually." Her gaze became distant and filled with memory. "He was a brave man."


    "Was he the Heir of Kings?" asked Relma.


    "No, actually," said Aunt Pan, smiling. "He was the last of the Artor family, whose banner you used in the Tournament of Kings. He had a name to make for himself, and he made it well. But he always tempered his attacks with mercy."


    "Lord Argath said that they knew each other," said Relma.


    "They were rivals, actually," said Aunt Pan. "Bitter ones indeed. They disagreed on how the war against the satyrs should be conducted. Marn wanted to exterminate them. Hakar wanted to beat them and negotiate a truce to save casualties."


    "How did he meet my mother?" asked Relma.


    "I introduced them," said Aunt Pan. "I was hoping that I could reestablish the Artor family. To work your family back into the throne over the course of generations.


    "Then Tuor got to them," Her face became grim. Relma remembered when Aren had told her about him.


    "The student who betrayed Arengeth," said Estela.


    "Yes," said Aunt Pan, voice cold. "I tried to save them. Suffice to say, I failed."


    Suddenly, Ajax halted, tensing as though for a spring. "Stop," he said in a sharp voice. One clawed hand was raised as he sniffed the air.


    "What is it?" asked Relma.


    "I smell something in the air," said Ajax, sniffing. "Satyrs. Don''t look around. They''re waiting for us on the road ahead."


    "Do we go around?" asked Relma.


    "No, they''d notice that," said Ajax, snarling in a sound more like a wolf than a man. "I''m going to go into the woods hunting now." Then he got down to his hands and feet, looking more like a wolf than ever. He spoke in a louder tone. "You keep on ahead! I''m getting some meat for tonight!"


    And he rushed off into the woods. Aunt Pan sighed. "No need for that." Then, raising a finger, a fly flew to land on it. "Excuse me. Fyar, is it? It has been some time."


    Many other flies began to gather, and they buzzed in unison. As they did, the buzzing gradually took on words. "Indeed it has, Pandora the Sorceress. Long ago, you fed my children with carrion when they were hungry. How may I assist you?"


    "A great many satyrs are waiting in ambush ahead of us," said Pandora. "I was wondering if you could force them away. Don''t kill them, though."


    "As you wish. My debt shall be repaid," said Fyar.


    The flies dispersed, and the buzzing stopped. Then, it began again, growing louder and louder as masses of flies flew in from the surrounding woods. They surged into the trees on either side and heard curses and swears. The buzzing was maddening to listen to, and Relma hated it badly, trying to keep them away.


    Soon, a pack of hair men with goat hoofs fled down the road, pursued by them. Their filthy clothes and blades were of no use against them at all.


    "What did you do?" asked Estela.


    "Fyar is a spirit of flies," said Aunt Pan. "I arranged for a battle to take place at this spot long ago. He remembers it still."


    "You started a battle?" asked Estela.


    "No, the battle was going to happen anyway," said Aunt Pan. "I can''t remember the details. I merely told Fyar to consider the corpses a gift."


    "A spirit of flies?" asked Relma.


    "Of course," said Aunt Pan. "Insects are not very intelligent in themselves. But when enough of them swarm together, they often manifest their own spirits. Those spirits can live on long after the original insects are dead.


    "When you are a sorcerer, you want to contact as many spirits as possible. It often pays off later."


    Ajax stole back into sight. He held a satyr by the hair and threw him on the ground before them. Then he stalked forward and put a foot on his throat. He glared at Aunt Pan. "What the hell was that?!"


    "I dealt with the ambush," said Aunt Pan.


    "Well, you dealing with that little ambush got me bitten all over," snapped Ajax.


    "Perhaps Fyar mistook you for one of them," said Aunt Pan.


    "Well, whether he did or not, I have a prisoner for us," said Ajax.


    "Get off me, hound!" snarled the satyr. "I''ll not say a word to you or any other." Estela put the blade of her sword between his legs. "What do you want to know?"


    "Why were you lying in wait for us?" asked Estela.


    "To ambush you," said the satyr.


    "Why were you trying to ambush us?" asked Estela.


    "Because it was what we planned," said the satyr.


    Estela stabbed him in the leg, and he howled in pain. "You will tell me what I want to know, or I will start cutting bits of you off. Starting between your legs?"


    "...Fine, we were told to kidnap that girl over there, the Heir of Kings," said the satyr. "You probably could have guessed that already. I''m not sure why you bothered to ask."


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "You are good at asking stupid questions, aren''t you?" asked the satyr.


    Estela raised her sword, and he cowered. "Alright! Alright!


    "We were ordered to by Lucius."


    The air went cold, though Relma didn''t know why. Aunt Pan went very still.


    "Lucius?" asked Estela. "That''s not satyr name? Who is this Lucius?"


    "Not very well-read for a knight, are you?" scoffed the satyr. "He is the first of three demons. Death cannot take him, for from him, death was born. He commanded that we take the Heir of Kings, and by the unborn god, we shall!


    "FOR MELCHIOUS!!"


    Then he drew out a knife, knocked Estela''s blade aside, and rose. Ajax reached around and snapped his neck. His body fell limp to the ground.


    "...Well, that was enlightening," said Estela. "Excellent. New carrion," said Fyar. The flies ate well, and soon only bones remained.

 Chapter 287 - Three: Shadow of Withering

    They journeyed up the road quickly, taking little time to admire the scenery. Though Relma could still take in the birds chirping and the breeze through the trees a bit. She hadn''t seen many of these paths before and doubted she''d come by them again. So she took what time she could to memorize landmarks and remember what she saw.


    In a few weeks, she''d probably forget it all. But that was no reason not to try and keep track of it. You only had one chance to walk by a place and time, so why waste it?


    Even so, Relma felt sick from what she''d seen before and was glad to leave it behind. The idea that someone who hoped, dreamed, and breathed could be reduced to a feast for flies disturbed her. Not that she had anything against flies, she''d always avoided swatting them. But the fragility of mortal existence bothered her.


    Why did people have to die in so many terrible and horrible ways? And why did Relma and people like them have to help them to those deaths? Relma had inspired armies to fight; even if she''d saved lives, she''d also ended them. Or at least inspired other people to end them with Lightning Trail.


    It bothered her.


    And it bothered her more than Relma would eventually have to kill someone directly. Or at least she would if she kept getting into battles like this. All the more reason to avoid them, she supposed.


    Of course, she knew there were souls. The meat and bone she apparently consisted of was just a shell, but that didn''t stop her from worrying. Would she one day be a feast for flies? Or would her corpse be burned or buried?


    She was saved from morbid thoughts by Estela. Her knight asked the question Relma had wondered about. "Who was this Lucius? And why would he be interested in Relma?" asked Estela.


    "That, Estela, is a very complicated story," said Aunt Pan, looking haunted. "Every race that is born has a god they were given to when they were first created. It is this god''s responsibility to look after them and guide them. Every race except the satyrs."


    "Why not them?" asked Relma. "Don''t they need a god?"


    "They do, though they may be beyond help," said Aunt Pan. "The satyrs did not develop naturally. They are not a race by themselves but a twisted version of another race. Humans. to be more specific."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "When the races were created in the beginning, there were two of each kind," said Aunt Pan. "A man and a woman. From them, the entire race is descended, and their lives shape all the lives to come. For humans, the male was Lucius. The female was Evoria".


    "So, what does this have to do with satyrs?" asked Estela.


    "There are many stories about what happened," said Aunt Pan. "But what is agreed is that Lucius had a competitive streak. He wanted humans to be the best and became obsessed with outdoing all the other races.


    "He did such a good job of it that the gods had to intervene."


    "They set limits on the lifespans of all the races. Humans were given a smaller lifespan, and Lucius did not take it well.


    "He murdered Evoria and then killed himself in a dark ritual. And from their blood sprang the satyrs. It was the ultimate abomination.


    "The first man and women of a race have within them their entire race. When Lucius murdered Evoria, he left many of his species unborn. From there, he used that species and created the satyrs.


    "He then set them on the elves with a single purpose. To kill them all."


    Relma felt a chill go through her blood. Somehow, she knew the truth was, if possible, even darker. She felt like crying at the prospect of all the tragedy that would result. Not that she showed it. "That''s a bit of an overreaction, isn''t it?"


    "Lucius believed that the elves were favored by the gods. That his own species had been neglected," said Aunt Pan. "Since he couldn''t strike at the gods, he decided to destroy their perceived favorites. And he almost succeeded.


    "The Dreamer Elves were completely wiped out. The Dust Elves fled and became nomads. The High Elves would have been destroyed too if Elranor hadn''t sent humans and dwarves to aid them."


    "So satyrs were born to destroy the elven species?" said Estela. She didn''t sound nearly as affronted at the idea as she should. In fact, her tone was almost fascinating.


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    "Yes," said Aunt Pan. "They scorn the teachings of the gods and worship Lucius as their ancestor. Their other gods are demons, like Melchious and Zigildrazia."


    "What is this Unborn God, though?" asked Relma.


    "A myth," said Ajax. "The satyrs believe that the blood they spill is filling the body of a god that has not been born. One who will arise and preside over the destruction of all things someday."


    "It''s laughable," said Aunt Pan. "Gods are not born. They either have existed since before the universe. Or their domain has passed to someone worthy of it. You cannot create a new domain."


    "So humans and satyrs have the same ancestor," said Relma thoughtfully. It all clicked with what she knew and what her greater self knew.


    "Yes," said Aunt Pan with a sigh. "That is why they can interbreed. No other two races can do so. Though some sources say the Dreamer Elves could."


    "But why would Lucius want to come after me?" Relma questioned. That was something that her other self had no answers to.


    "I do not know," admitted Aunt Pan. She looked all the more haunted and seemed about to say something. Then she thought better of it and said something else. "This bears further investigation. We''ll speak with De Cathe once we reach the border."


    "De Cathe won''t know anything," said Ajax, confident and bold. The real question was why and Estela seemed to ask it at once.


    "And I suppose you do?" asked Estela, looking at him with irritation. Estela and De Cathe were close allies and friends. Estela had always placed loyalty as a prize virtue, and De Cathe had been loyal to her family for generations.


    The House had done very well by association with House Vortegex.


    "I know more than you," said Ajax, giving her a confident smirk. "You want to get someone''s reasons for acting; you ask them. I''m going on ahead. I''ll talk with the satyr chieftains and see what all this is about."


    "Do you actually know satyr chieftains?" asked Relma. She hadn''t known about this.


    "I know all of them," said Ajax. "And their ancestors too." Then he surged off into the woods and was gone with hardly a rustle. How had he disappeared so fast and so quickly? Relma wondered if he was coming back at all.


    Probably, she thought. She and Ajax had gotten on pretty well so far, and they seemed to be past the enemy stage. She liked him, and he liked her.


    "We''ll continue as planned for now," said Aunt Pan, frustratedly closing her eyes.


    "I''m surprised you aren''t telling me to go back to Gel Carn, Aunt Pan," said Relma, more for teasing than anything.


    Aunt Pan smiled. This time, it was warm, and she looked at Relma without the "You are growing up, Relma. And the safest place here is with me anyway. Lucius is not someone easily crossed."


    "Have you fought him before?" asked Relma.


    "I''ve met him," said Aunt Pan. "When I was just a girl."


    "So what was he like?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan looked afraid at the memory, something Relma had never seen from her before. "He never shows his face. He appears as a robed figure, and he is very courteous. There is no malice in him. Neither is there is any kindness.


    "I don''t know why he does what he does."


    "That doesn''t sound like a satyr god," said Relma. "Didn''t you work with satyrs in Khasmir, Estela?"


    "I did," said Estela. "They were everything I expected. Savage, vicious barbarians who lived for blood and death. They cared as little about each other''s lives as they did about ours."


    "It isn''t entirely their fault," said Aunt Pan. "They were formed for the purpose of kinslaying. It is tough for them to get beyond that."


    "Kinslaying?" asked Relma. "They were born to kill elves."


    "In a sense, the mothers and fathers of the races were brothers and sisters," said Aunt Pan. "In that sense, the satyrs were born to destroy their cousins."


    "That''s very weak," said Relma.


    "Whether it is or not, we should make camp here," said Estela, halting.


    "Why here?" asked Relma.


    Estela pointed up, and Relma saw the moon rising above them. "It is getting very dark. I don''t want to move at night. Lucius has more power, then. He is on good terms with the Moon Spirit."


    "I''ll take the first watch," said Relma.


    Aunt Pan drew several canteens from her bag and handed them to Relma. She took it in her hands. "You can start by getting some water from the river. Refill these, will you."


    "Oh right," said Relma.


    Turning, she made her way south toward the river. Coming to it, she kneeled down, opened up a canteen, and brought it down toward the river. But as she did, the river receded. When she brought it back up again, the river came back. Relma waded in and tried again, but it receded all the faster.


    "... That''s odd," said Relma.


    She turned away, whirled around, and tried again. But the river sank into the earth. With nothing else to do, Relma moved back to the road. "Aunt Pan, we''ve got a problem."


    "What is it?" asked Aunt Pan as she set up a fire.


    "I''m trying to fill the waterskins, but the river won''t let me," said Relma.


    Aunt Pan looked up. Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" Her voice was sharp.


    "Whenever I stoop down, it recedes," said Relma, unsure what to make of it. "Then, when I rise again, it comes back."


    "I see," said Aunt Pan before rising. "Let me handle this."


    And back they went to the river. There, Aunt Pan waded in, her dress floating around her as she kneeled in the river. Her hands caught the current. She closed her eyes. As she did, she seemed to reflect the sun''s waning light. The light of the moon also came forward. S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Asacoth, is it?" she asked. "Would you care to explain why you are denying us water?"


    A figure cloaked in water appeared. Nothing could be made of his features, and the current seemed to flow over him or her. "Lucius instructed us to do so."


    "I wasn''t aware you took orders from him," said Aunt Pan.


    "He is of the first. His commands are law," said Asacoth.


    "He lost the right to command the lands when he murdered Evoria," said Aunt Pan.


    "So you say. But the dread of him is on every beast of the earth, air, and sea," said Asacoth. "He was granted power over us, and I shall not cross him."


    "I was granted power as well, Asacoth, and I remain in the god''s favor," said Aunt Pan. "Do not cross me over something so petty."


    ''It is not petty," said Asacoth. "Without water, you will die. Until the Heir of Kings is in Lucius'' grip, all the land shall be your enemy. The trees shall whisper your location to His servants. The wind shall whistle with your plans. And all the world shall seek your ruination."


    "Very poetic, Asacoth," said Aunt Pan. "You will deliver water to us. The Sorceress Pandora commands it!" And her will flow out across the stream. As it did, the water cloak seemed to flow in a gust. A hand was raised against her.


    "...I shall... not... yield..." said Asacoth.


    "You will," said Aunt Pan. "For my will and the gods will are the same."


    "Then your will is without focus..." shot back Asacoth.


    "Deliver unto us water. Now," hissed Aunt Pan.


    For a moment longer, there seemed a terrible strain. Then the water flowed out around Pan, leaving her clothes dry and rising into the air. "...So be it..." said Asacoth''s voice.


    Aunt Pan walked out, and the water returned to normal. Relma tried the waterskin again, and the water filled it in mere moments. She looked up to Aunt Pan. "What was that?"


    "I had forgotten," said Aunt Pan. "The first of the races had a natural affinity with the spirits of the land. They could command the trees to yield fruit, and they would. Still, Lucius has yet to make such commands for many years.


    "He must want you captured a great deal."


    They filled the waterskins and walked back. As they did, Relma reflected that she''d never seen Aunt Pan act so openly before. She''d always known she was powerful, and she''d been aware for years now that she was Pandora the Sorceress.


    But she never acted directly until now.


    "So what took you?" asked Estela as they came back.


    "We''re going to have a long road ahead of us, Estela," said Aunt Pan, looking tired.


    Things had just gotten interesting.


    But then, interesting was not a good thing. It meant that Relma and Estela were going to have a lot of work to do. And they''d had plenty of that on this journey already.


    Even so, Relma intended to do all she could to help Estela.

 Chapter 288 - Four: The Spirits Quest

    The castle of Lord Anias was a little unimpressive after all they''d gone through.


    The walls were lower than Gel Carn and of a dark gray color. The towers were thicker, and the whole thing was made from large stones. Though the mortar was crumbling, there were scars on the stone. It looked like it had been attacked by arrowheads and stones many times, and there were also signs of burning. Relma guessed these were where attacks had been launched. No wonder Aunt Pan had broken off from the group to pursue another matter.


    Aunt Pan had never liked violence or power of any kind. It was an odd quirk she had. She wanted the best for Relma but had different ideas of what that was. Aunt Pan had always felt power was a curse that no one ought to desire. Relma, though, wanted power to help others. So Aunt Pan had been teaching her at last, and she''d had to work harder than ever.


    There was so much Relma did not know. She had to catch up on so much because of Aunt Pan''s sheltering. And Relma could not quite find it in herself to not hold a grudge about being held back by it all. Though she knew that wasn''t entirely fair. Estela had told enough stories about the Escorian Civil War to know Aunt Pan had a point.


    Power could corrupt.


    Relma remembered her lessons beneath a beating sun as she walked within the castle''s shadow. The Black Marshes, which she could see in the distance over the fields, were home to many satyr tribes. They had been enemies of Gel Carn for centuries and fought many battles. Relma''s own father had fought in them and been a hero.


    Flies were out in force, and she felt sweat dripping down her brow from days of travel. The journey had been uneventful. However, she had seen many farmlands here and noticed the people were unhappy. The water receding had made it all the worse, and getting any at all was very difficult. They were perpetually parched and sore from the journey, and Relma was sick of it.


    But there were no satyrs within sight of the farmlands today. The village was bustling, but they were given a distrustful eye as they walked. When they finally reached the large, two-story inn, Reginald went out to meet them. He was a tall, lean man with orange hair and a crooked smile. At his side was a sword with the serrated style that the De Chevlons preferred.


    "Estela, there you are," said Reginald. "It took you long enough."


    "We had one or two delays," said Estela. "Where are the others?"


    "Varsus is reading in the inn," said Raynald, motioning. "His men are drilling in the militia training yard. Though the locals weren''t happy about the fact."


    "Why did he even need to stay at the inn?" asked Relma. "Couldn''t he request shelter from Lord Anias?"


    "Lord Anias is not what you could call a pleasant companion at the best times," said Reginald. "Varsus decided it would be best to stay at the inn."


    "Well then, where did he get the books?" asked Estela.


    Reginald shrugged in a long-suffering way. "He brought his own."


    "Who takes books on long journeys?" asked Estela. "Especially to a place like this."


    "Varsus does," said Reginald with a shrug. "They''re enchanted against the elements, obviously. He paid a lot of money for that."


    "So what are you doing out here, Reginald?" asked Estela.


    "Watching for you," said Reginald. "Where''s the half-demon?"


    "Quarter demon," said Relma.


    "What?" said Reginald.


    "Ajax is a quarter demon," said Relma. "A quarter wolf and half... well, I''m not sure if he''s half-human. I think he is. But he might be half something else." Estela looked at her, and Relma felt self-conscious under her gaze. Estela was beautiful, and Relma did not like that kind of look of disapproval. "Did I get it right?"


    "Relma," said Estela.


    "Oh, sorry. I uh... forgot I''m not supposed to speak," said Relma. Oh, right, she was a squire, not a knight. She''d gotten used to adventuring as an equal with Estela when she and Ronald came to rescue her from Ajax. Relma had almost been the leader then, so being outranked now was odd.


    Especially since Relma was the highest-ranking person here. Even if Estela would never admit it. What was so important about rank anyway?


    Reginald sighed. "Fine, where is Ajax?"


    "He went on ahead," said Estela. "It turns out these satyrs who have been mustering are taking orders from Lucius. The father of all humans and satyrs. He wants to see what it''s all about."


    "Right, of course," said Reginald. "I''m fairly certain satyrs and humans are a different race. And their fathers are long dead."


    "Well, how do you explain this?" asked Estela before walking over to the well. Plunging the bucket into it, she drew it out and raised it. Turning it over, nothing came out.


    Reginald blinked. "...You pulled a bucket out of a well. Is that supposed to prove something?"


    "No, it''s not the bucket," said Estela. "I lowered it down into the well, but the water receded as soon as I did. We''ve been putting up with it for days now."


    "I don''t buy it," said Reginald. Then he lowered the bucket, drew it out, and poured the water back in. "See, I just got the water easily."


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    "I know!" said Estela. "It just happens to us! Lucius has turned the spirits against us."


    "Well, Relma''s the Heir of Kings, isn''t she?" asked Reginald. "Can''t she just ask them to help her?"


    "That isn''t an option, Reginald," said Varsus, coming out of the inn. He was taller than Reginald, with blonde half to halfway down his neck. He was clad in white and bore only a dagger.


    "Varsus, I see you''ve gotten out of the study," said Reginald. "Why isn''t it an option?"


    "The Heir of Kings has inherited an affinity with the spirits of the land," said Varsus with a shrug. "One that has been passed down to them through their descendant, Anoa the Bright. Anoa gained the allegiance of the various spirits through his deeds in their honor.


    "That was one of the reasons Harlenor was so prosperous under his reign and that of his descendants."


    "Cut to the chase; this book lore doesn''t interest me," said Reginald.


    "The chase, so to speak, is that Lucius has similar authority," said Varsus. "But Lucius'' authority was given to him at the beginning of all races. Anoa''s was gifted far later in light of services rendered. Lucius'' authority thus trumps that of Anoa''s. Much less Anoa''s heir.


    It''s the difference between loyalty to a friend and a king."


    "Someone can rebel against a king when he''s wrong, though," said Estela.


    "A just point," said Varsus. "It isn''t a perfect metaphor. I''m certain Lady Pandora could tell you more."


    "I could," said Aunt Pan, reappearing. "Though I am surprised at how well you grasp the subject, Varsus.


    "You are right, Relma. The spirits could rebel against Lucius'' authority. In fact, they have in the past. However, he is immensely powerful, and they fear him. If Anoa the Bright himself were to ask for their aid, they would probably defy Lucius. In fact, that is part of the reason I broke off from the group.


    "However, you are largely unproven. Only your bloodline gives you authority."


    "Well, how am I supposed to prove myself to all these spirits?" asked Relma.


    "It took Anoa the Bright decades," said Aunt Pan. "And he did things to get it, which haunted him long after."


    "Look, are we calling this quest off or what?" asked Reginald.


    "No, we''re still going through," said Estela. "The money I won from the tournament needs to get to Escor, and I''m not giving up, whatever the opposition.


    "Of course, until Ajax gets back, we can''t go anywhere. He''s our guide." S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well then, we have time for a drink," said Reginald. "I don''t suppose you''d use some of your winnings-"


    "No," said Estela.


    "But there is plenty," said Reginald.


    "And I want it to stay that way," shot back Estela.


    "Fine, do you want to get a drink with some money that isn''t destined for Escor''s coffers?" asked Reginald.


    "Why not?" asked Estela, hoisting her pack. Relma had wanted to take some of the weight, but Estela had insisted on carrying her winnings. No one else could touch them.


    "While you are doing that, I will commune with the spirits," said Aunt Pan. "Come with me, Relma."


    "Why can''t I go with them?" asked Relma.


    "You will need to learn to commune with spirits sooner or later," said Aunt Pan, leading her away. "It would be better if you started now."


    "Alright," said Relma. Then she paused and quickly ran up to Varsus. "Wait, where is Fayn? I heard she was doing mercenary work in this region."


    "Oh, she went scouting in the marshes two days ago," said Reginald. "Some quest or other for Lord Anias. I told her it was stupid, but she didn''t listen."


    "Is she alright?" asked Relma.


    "How should I know?" asked Reginald. "If you go into those swamps and die, no one ever finds your body."


    "Now, Relma," said Aunt Pan.


    Relma followed. She could hardly complain about having lessons now.


    Aunt Pan led Relma to the outskirts of the village and made for a hill. At the top was a series of standing stones with a table at the center. Three circles of smaller stones were around, and Relma nearly tripped over one. All of them were covered in green moss, and a buzzing was in the air. This was a place of power. And it was at the very border of the swamp, Relma could smell the stagnant water.


    "What is this place?" asked Relma.


    "An ancient shrine to spirits," said Aunt Pan. "One of few remaining. Many were torn down by an old Stewardess of Gel Carn."


    "Now, Relma, the first thing you need to understand is this: Spirits cannot be controlled," said Aunt Pan. "Some sorcerers, like Rusara, believe in dominating their wills to bend them to your own. However, such relationships are always unstable.


    "They rarely last.


    "I prefer to speak with the spirits and establish a dialogue of sorts," said Aunt Pan. "All spirits want something. Fire spirits want to consume the world around them. Water spirits desire to flow swiftly and without stagnation.


    "What spirits desire is based largely on what the spirit comes from."


    "So how are they different from demons and angels?" asked Relma.


    "Spirits have their source in this world," said Aunt Pan. "Demons and angels have their source in the world beyond."


    "So does that mean demons and angels are the same?" asked Relma.


    "That is a difficult question," said Aunt Pan. "It would be more accurate to say that they are opposite sides of the same coin. Angels define themselves in service to divine law. Demons define themselves by their opposition to that same law. Or at least that would have been the case at the beginning of things."


    "What changed?" asked Relma.


    "Hell came under new management," said Aunt Pan. "Elranor engineered a rebellion that saw the Demon King, Diabolus, overthrown. His spirit was cut into seven pieces and stored within seven gem shards worldwide.


    "His children, the Seven Demonic Archons, then began ordering things as they saw fit.


    Baltoth, Lord of Pride, sought to rule over mortals and use them to bring his dominion to bear over all the worlds. To that end, he overthrew Valranor, the God of Order, and took his domain.


    "Lucius was one of the Demonic Archons, having been invested with the domain of Envy rather than born of it. He has created all manner of undead creatures. They feed on the living and seek to tear down what others have built.


    "Zigildrazia, the Lady of Sloth, began forging machines and tools. Coinfurth forged coinage and began establishing merchant domains throughout the world.


    "Fortenex, Lord of Wrath, delighted in sewing discord among the mortal races. Eventually, he merged his power with the dead god, Kreshlak. Then there was Amysta, Lady of Lust, who married Fortenex. Together, they sewed discord among mortals, tempting them to sin. At least until Zigildrazia killed her sister and took her domain."


    "So the Lady of Sloth works in a forge?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said Aunt Pan. "Zigildrazia is perhaps the greatest forger in all the worlds. Rivaled only by Barden and Vrengar of the Dragon Empire."


    Relma frowned. "...How does that fit her domain?"


    "Well, if you think about it, the purpose of tools is to make work easier," said Aunt Pan. "And require less effort. So she expends some effort now to do less later."


    "And overthrowing her sister?" asked Relma.


    "Being able to seduce people lets you get them to do things for you," said Aunt Pan. "Or so I assume."


    "This doesn''t seem very consistent," said Relma.


    Aunt Pan smiled. "Well, hypocrisy is a sin.


    "Last of all, there is Typhos, the Archon of Gluttony. From her came forth all the monsters of the world. And it was she who sewed chaos into strands of fate.


    "The point is that the demons these days have become pragmatic. They realize that a policy of pure evil will lead to their inevitable defeat. So they are far more pragmatic about things."


    "So why do you hate them?" asked Relma.


    "Because it''s a front," said Aunt Pan. "Yes, they behave moderately better than the old demons. But at their uttermost source, they live to spread wickedness and destruction. No matter how many deals they honor, their objective has stayed the same.


    "Father and I go out of our way to cut them out of the loop."


    "You made a deal with Telix," noted Relma.


    "Yes, but Telix is half spirit," said Aunt Pan. "And his children are even less than that. Sometimes, you have to compromise your principles to avert greater destruction. This was one such time.


    "Either way, we should begin to commune with the spirit of the swamp."


    "So, is there a ritual?" asked Relma.


    "Don''t be silly," said Aunt Pan before looking toward the swamp and standing tall. "Hello, Ranush; it has been a long time, hasn''t it?''


    The swamp''s water shifted into the shape of a lion''s head. It rose out of the water and eyed them carefully. Then it spoke; its voice was the gurgling of a stream and the flowing of a brook.


    "That it has, Pandora. Yet we have been cast as enemies in the games of gods."


    "May I ask why?" asked Aunt Pan. "I do not wish to be your enemy."


    "Lucius has commanded it," said Ranush. "And I dare not cross him. He has given orders. I will plague her companions should the Heir of Kings cross the Black Marshes. I shall do so with diseases that she might be taken easily."


    "The Heir of Kings stands before you," said Aunt Pan. "Did you not make an oath to Anoa the Bright?"


    "I did," said Ranush. "But that was long ago. And I also have an oath to Lucius, whom I fear more."


    "Ranush, I must cross the Black Marshes," said Aunt Pan.


    "Then I must stop you," replied Ranush.


    "Can I prove myself?" asked Relma.


    "What?" said Ranush.


    "Lord Ranush, I am Relma Artorious, Heir of Kings," said Relma. "I wish to prove myself worthy of your trust. Set me a task, and I will see it done."


    Ranush remained silent for a moment, and at last, he spoke. "Very well. There is a part of these marshes where my waters have become stagnant. The water no longer flows. Break that which blocks it, and I shall let you pass."


    Then, the water faded and returned to normal. Aunt Pan looked to Relma. "Well done, Relma."


    "I thought you''d be upset for me speaking out of turn," said Relma in surprise.


    "Spirits don''t respond well to people doing things because they were told to," said Aunt Pan. "If you make them an offer of your own will, it means much more.


    "Now, we ought to finish this quickly."


    "We''re going right now?" asked Relma.


    "Of course," said Aunt Pan. "I want to head through the Black Marshes soon. And we can''t wait for tomorrow."


    So they were off.


    At last.

 Chapter 289 - Five: Vengeance and Restitution

    As they began their journey into the stagnant water, Relma had a thought. One that Estela would have considered ahead of time. But then, Relma could have been better at this than Ronald or Estela, was she? "Shouldn''t we bring the poles Estela had me get? You know, to, um, check for places where things are too deep? I mean, we could fall into a bog."


    Aunt Pan looked up in surprise. Then she shook her head before leading her in a circle around what looked like a walkable piece of ground. Kneeling down, she drew up a stone from the wet earth and dropped it into the earth. The stone sank like.... well, a stone in water. It was gone in a moment, and apparently, firm ground rippled. "Not at the moment. I can sense we''re only going a little way in."


    "What makes you so sure where it is?" asked Relma. She knew Aunt Pan was a legendary agent of Elranor, but the question couldn''t hurt.


    "Ranush is leading me," said Aunt Pan. "When you speak with spirits enough, you learn to know their minds. You see, spirits do not exist in one body; their being is dispersed throughout an area. He is all around us, and I can communicate with him. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What you heard before at the pool was him shouting."


    "Shouting?" asked Relma.


    "Yes, spirits have to exert great effort to speak with the untrained," said Aunt Pan.


    And so they walked onward. As they did, what passed for firm ground became soaked and ankle-deep in the water. Gradually, it got deeper until Relma was up to her thighs. She wished she were tall like Aunt Pan, but no such luck.


    Her luck held out as soon flies began to gather around them. Relma hated it and tried to beat them off by killing them. It was all about threatening motions that didn''t actually connect. Once, Relma nearly hit a fly and had to veer her hand off. After that the flies were relentless. Aunt Pan, as usual, just kept on walking while ignoring them.


    Soon, they saw many red and white flowers growing in the water. And the flies stopped as they did. It was a welcome relief, and the air soon became sweet and cool, and Relma breathed in relief. Then, suddenly, Aunt Pan stopped and raised a hand. "Stop."


    "What is it?" asked Relma, looking ahead.


    She only saw a lake of white and red flowers budding before them. A sweet aroma was in the air, and there were no flies around them. The ground got firmer, too, as though the water was absorbed. But Aunt Pan''s face was stern. "Ahead of us is one of the most dangerous creatures in the world."


    "I don''t see anything," said Relma.


    "The flowers," said Aunt Pan.


    "What about them?" asked Relma.


    "They emit pollen that clouds the mind," said Aunt Pan. "As you walk among them, they enchant you. Strange, usually, they only grow in places where spirits are powerful."


    "We spoke with Ranush, didn''t we?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said Aunt Pan. "Spirits are everywhere. But in some places, certain kinds of spirits gain more power. Come, we''ll go around."


    "What would happen if we went in?" asked Relma.


    "You might be enchanted," said Aunt Pan. "If you were alone, then the flowers would cover you up. Their thorns would tear you until you were nothing more than bones."


    Relma shuddered. "Well, then... maybe we should do something about these?"


    "And what would you suggest?" asked Aunt Pan. "Burn them? These flowers are not evil; they merely live by eating meat. One might as well kill all the wolves in the world because they eat sheep. Or dry up all the seas because men can drown within them.


    "It is always better to work within the system rather than destroy-"


    And then there was a flaring of white, and they were thrown off their feet into the mud. A huge inferno rose up beside them, and the flowers screamed. Their vines whipped in the air as heat washed against Relma''s face.


    Maniacal laughter sounded as the flames burned higher and higher as they rose. Then, out of the flames, walked Fayn, clad in her black armor. The silver-haired girl''s face was hidden behind a helmet. She was spinning a new poleaxe that was flaming. With each rotation, more fire surged from it. Thorned vines lashed out at her, only to be burned away. The flowers seemed to scramble away, seeking to escape the flames.


    "Fayn?! What is she doing here?" asked Relma, unsure of what was happening.


    "Unravelling several hundred years of spiritual diplomacy, it seems," said Aunt Pan.


    "Cin''Dar, stop this at once! I command it!"


    "I burn at the will of no creature save Anoa the Bright and is Heirs!" cried the fire spirit. "I consume what I will, and none may command me otherwise!"


    "Cin''Dar, could you please stop burning those flowers?" asked Relma.


    Cin''dar paused. "So be it."


    "Why did you stop?" asked Fayn, coming out. Then she saw Relma and sighed in a disappointed tone Relma didn''t think was appropriate. Last time they''d met, Relma had nearly lost her own life saving Fayn from the consequences of her actions. A little respect would be nice from the silver-haired girl. "Oh, you."


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    "Fayn, what are you doing here?" asked Relma.


    "I''m doing knight-errantry on behalf of Lord Anias," said Fayn.


    "By setting fire to the trees?" asked Relma.


    "No, the flowers," said Fayn, looking regretfully at the dying fire as she drew off her helm. "Yes. Some of the villagers have gone missing when they walk into this region. Village children make money collecting blood moss for the healers. A sweet smell lured them deep into the woods, and they were never seen again. Or so some of their companions said."


    "You foolish girl! Do you know what you''ve done?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "Burned up a man-eating plant?" asked Fayn.


    "A man-eating plant was allowed to grow here by the spirits," said Aunt Pan. "Those flowers are very good at making friends."


    "I''ll burn them too," said Fayn. "I don''t mind starting a larger fire. Besides, look over there."


    As the flames died out, Relma saw something. There were bones beneath the water. Thousands upon thousands of bones. Animals, satyrs, humans, and dwarves. "How many people is that?"


    "I''d say hundreds," said Fayn. "Built up over centuries. Satyrs. Men. Women. Children. Of course, it''s a lot more than that. There are other flowers in this place I need to take care of.


    "So yeah, I don''t feel bad about burning this place.


    "What are you doing here?"


    "We''re trying to undo the blockage that has made a stream stop flowing," said Relma.


    "Cute," said Fayn. "No doubt tales shall be sung of your epic tail of dam breaking."


    And then the trees began to twist and groan. The air warped as the roots began to shift and come toward them as the water deepened.


    "The trees are moving," said Relma.


    "They are calling for vengeance," said Aunt Pan. "The flowers were dear to them."


    "Well then, Cin''dar, what do you say we make an example of these?" asked Fayn.


    "So we shall," said Cin''dar. "Thus shall the ashes of this forest be spread worldwide! The rumor of their fate is known to all."


    The battle was about to begin again.


    "Hold where you are!" said Aunt Pan. "I am the Sorceress Pandora! I want to create a parley between the spirits of nature and the realm of Gel Carn!"


    "You''re joking," said Fayn.


    The closing forces shifted and halted. Eventually, many whispers came to them, forming into a singular voice. "Speak your terms."


    "They are not my terms to give," said Pandora. "Fayn is acting in the interests of her people, even if she enjoyed it more than she should have. These flowers behaved aggressively and killed humans. That was why the humans sent Fayn against them."


    "Human children," said Fayn.


    "If you all move against Fayn now and kill her, it will only cause further violence. Humans and satyrs alike will begin to hack down trees for safety. There will be a great war, and both sides will suffer terrible losses.


    "It is my desire, as the representative of the Heir of Kings, that peace is reached between you. And I expect you to make one that will benefit both parties."


    "I am in no hurry to consume this miserable world," said Cin''dar. "I will speak with the spirits of this realm."


    "Excellent," said Pandora. "I will oversee the negotiations and ensure they are in good faith.


    "Ranush, I need you to lead Relma to the source of your problem."


    Ranush appeared in the water. "So be it. Follow me."


    Relma followed Ranush as quickly and quietly as she could. This was her task now. Did Aunt Pan think she could do this on her own? Well, yes, she sent her, but Relma was worried. What if there was some kind of dragon she had to slay. Or an evil demon in need of appeasement.


    And then she got to it and saw a dam blocking off a stream. It was a vast, muddy dam. More significant than any she or Ronald had seen. And Relma realized she''d have to take the thing apart herself. She''d almost have preferred a dragon. "Well, that is... a lot worse than I expected."


    "A group of beavers built it, and even now, it is stagnating my waters," said Ranush.


    "Even if I clear this thing out, the beaver will only rebuild it, won''t they?" asked Relma.


    "It was killed by satyr hunters. They sell the pelts," said Ranush, voice satisfied.


    "Oh, right," said Relma. "Well, that''s good. I don''t like killing animals." Then she went over to it and looked at the thing made from sticks and mud. She grabbed one of the sticks and tried to dislodge it but only got her hands muddy. "Now, how can I clear this out without any tools? I supposed I could use my sword. I doubt Lightning Trail will get damaged from sticks,"


    Relma drew out Lightning Trail and brought it down. She''d been hoping for a flash of lightning and a broken dam. Unfortunately, the sword seemed resentful, and Relma didn''t blame it. She''d be resentful, too. So she began trying to find a stick she could pry out. But the beaver had gone to a great deal of trouble to make all the sticks overlap. They all reinforced each other. She had to work at it for quite a while before she found something she could pull out. Eventually, she got the first stick out and moved on to the next and the next, prying them out with her sword. It was miserable, hot, and horrible work.


    Relma had to work at it for hours, yet no matter how many sticks she pulled out, there always seemed to be more. She hardly seemed to be making any difference as she removed one after another. Privately, she wondered if this was actually something Ranush needed her to do.


    Was this a secret test? Was Ranush trying to see if she was serious about things? It seemed at least likely, and Relma worked all the harder. Stick after stick was removed as the light began to die. Her limbs ached, and her hands were filthy, but she made progress.


    At long last, she succeeded in breaking a hole in the dam. The stream began to flow in, dislodging more of them. But she still had to work at it; now, things were muddier.


    "It is done," said Ranush at last.


    That was the last thing Relma heard from him. He didn''t even say thank you. When she finally limped back to Aunt Pan and Fayn, she was covered in mud, sick of it all, and in a bad mood.


    "Hello, Relma," said Fayn, sharpening her poleaxe. "Why are you covered in mud?"


    "I had to clear out a beaver''s dam with nothing but my sword and hands," said Relma. "It wasn''t exactly fun. How did the negotiations go?"


    "As well as could be hoped," said Aunt Pan, walking back.


    "So, badly then?" asked Relma.


    "No," admitted Aunt Pan. "I think I managed to negotiate things."


    "So what did they decide on?" asked Relma.


    "The flowers hunting humans and Fayn burning them are equal vengeance," said Aunt Pan.


    "Both have agreed not to hunt the other.


    "The war is over. Peace is restored. Honor is satisfied."


    "It was that easy?" asked Relma.


    "Cin''Dar is a greatly feared spirit," said Aunt Pan. "With good reason. And Fayn''s assault was not without justification. The fact that you helped Ranush was what sealed things. When a single stream is dammed up, it can negatively influence entire swaths of forest.


    "Your actions have thus been of great service to all of them.


    "It is a combination of fear and love that served me well, with the respect I have earned.


    "I have also convinced the spirits of the Black Marshes to remain neutral in our conflict with Lucius. Well done.


    "It was nothing," said Relma.


    "Glad to hear it," said Fayn with a yawn. "Can we go back now? The last thing I wanted to do was spend the rest of the day in a swamp."


    Relma couldn''t agree more with that. Though at least the flowers and flames had been pretty.

 Chapter 290 - Six: Lord Anias

    The three of them returned to the village and found it pitch black when they got to the inn. The lights in the main room were on, and the door was open. Within the common room, they found Estela and Reginald speaking. Reginald was sitting in a corner reading, his blonde hair tied behind his head. Relma didn''t think this was a good place to read; it was a terrible place.


    Books were worth a fortune. Why was Reginald doing this?


    "You are both late," said Reginald, sounding a little annoyed. "Varsus and I have been waiting."


    "I apologize, Reginald," said Aunt Pan. "Relma and I found ourselves with some unforeseen business. Still, I believe I have dealt with the spirits."


    "And what about you, Fayn?" asked Reginald.


    "I had to negotiate with some spirits of the land," muttered Fayn. "It was like ending the war, only less attractive.


    "So, are we ready to go tomorrow?"


    "Not yet," said Reginald. "Varsus is waiting for a letter."


    "About what?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "He''s been in communication with Frederick and De Cathe," said Frederick. "The two of them have been watching the movements of the satyrs. And we still haven''t seen any sign of Ajax."


    "It''s not like Ajax to be late," said Varsus. "At least not when it is not fashionable."


    "He did say that he intended to speak with the satyr chieftains," said Estela.


    "What do we do if he doesn''t show up?" asked Fayn.


    "We''ll have to go all the way around," said Estela. "I''m not risking the Black Marshes without a guide."


    "That is wise," said Aunt Pan. "Still, I will find our errant wolf. I have spoken with the birds. They will come to me with any news of Ajax."


    "What do we do in the meantime?" asked Reginald.


    "I leave what you do to Estela," said Aunt Pan. "For my part, I will ply my trade as a runeswoman." And she walked out.


    Relma sat down next to Estela, who seemed brooding over something. She looked to Reginald, who paused. "Okay, Estela, what should we do?"


    Estela took a drink and sighed bitterly. "We should present ourselves to the Lord. I should have done it before, but we ended up drinking heavily.


    "You didn''t use any of the money from your winnings, did you?" asked Relma.


    "Of course not," said Estela. "It''s sealed tight. I had Lady Pandora make it so it could only be opened within the castle of Carn Ganus¡ªthe capital.


    "Someone tried to steal some of it in the bar. He got his hands burned."


    "Where is he now?" asked Relma, wondering if she could help.


    "In prison, I think," said Estela. "They were planning to hang him for theft. But I told them to let the matter pass. He was just a boy, about twelve or so.


    "Nothing insidious."


    "I think I''d like to heal him," said Relma.


    "Do it if you want," said Estela. "You''ll have to get permission to meet him from the Lord. Fortunately, we''re heading that way, to begin with."


    "The Lord is, um... I''ll come to it," said Relma.


    "Lord Anias Culhorn," said Varsus from one side as he turned a page. "He reigns over this village; we''ll need his blessing." He glanced at his guards. "Officially, of course."


    "I''m already on my way there," said Fayn. "Or I would have been if you hadn''t gotten me sidetracked. He was the one who asked me to hunt down the flowers and the one who knighted me. I''ll have to tell him about my results.


    "He''ll owe me a lot of silver." She paused. "Though I may as well let it wait until tomorrow at this rate."


    Relma slept easily that night and awoke the next morning, much refreshed and immediately set everything up for Estela. Preparing themselves for the day, she and Estela made their way down into the common room. Fayn was there, drinking with a bitter look on her face. Relma approached from behind. "Fayn, you''re up."


    "Yes, I am, and I was just about to head to Lord Anias," said Fayn. "I wouldn''t expect a nice welcome, though. He isn''t what you can call the pleasant company."


    "I enjoy your company," said Estela. "I''m sure I can enjoy his."


    "That''s the closest you''ve come to a decent retort since I''ve known you," said Fayn.


    After breakfast, they got together their things and made their way out toward the castle. The air was fresh and breezy, though the wind brought some swamp smells in. Clouds partially covered the sun, and Relma enjoyed the weather.


    "So, Relma, what took you so long last night?" asked Estela.


    "I had to break up a beaver dam," said Relma.


    Estela blinked. "...And how did Fayn fit into that?"


    "I didn''t," said Fayn. "Pandora messed up my plan on the way to it."


    "You were about to get attacked by tree spirits," said Relma.


    "Yeah, and once I destroyed them, that would be it," said Fayn.


    "It could have alienated the spirits of this entire region," said Relma. "This way, peace is restored, and we don''t have to worry about them siding with the satyrs."


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    "Whatever you say," said Fayn.


    "Estela," said Relma, "why does everyone seem to distrust Lord Anias?"


    "Anias is swine," said Estela.


    "That''s a little harsh," said Relma. "You haven''t even met him."


    "Daylight is harsh," said Estela. "That doesn''t make what it illuminates any less true. His family had pledged loyalty to House Vortegex, but they abandoned us when we needed them most. The lot of them were driven out like the vipers they were when we came to power.


    "We don''t trust their kind anymore."


    On they marched until they came before the gates of the castle. Here, Estela raised a hand to knock but hesitated. Then Fayn moved forward and slammed her hand on the door several times. A slot slid aside to reveal a pair of sunken eyes. "Yes, what is it?"


    "I am Fayn Lancel, returned from my mission," said Fayn. "Those with me are Lady Estela and her squire, Relma. They seek to meet with Lord Anias."


    The eyes peered over them. "...One moment." The slot slid closed, and there was silence. A sound of unbolting followed, and then a door was drawn open. Behind it was a thin, short man wearing green robes. He rubbed his hands together as he looked out. "I am Asus, Lord Anias conjurer. Lord Anias has agreed to see you."


    "How good of him-" began Fayn before Asus raised a hand.


    "Not you," said Asus. "Just the Lady Estela and her retinue."


    "What?" said Fayn.


    Asus looked somewhat apologetic. "Those were his orders."


    "I have done the job he asked me to do, and he means to keep me waiting out here?" asked Fayn.


    "Lord Anias does not like to meet with more than one person at a time," said Asus.


    "Then give me my damn payment so I can go!" snapped Fayn.


    "Lord Anias pays his servants directly," said Asus.


    "Servant I-" Fayn began before giving up. "Nevermind. I''ll wait."


    Asus turned to Estela and Relma. He led them into a guard room beyond where men stood watching. "You two may follow me. However, you will have to leave your weapons in this room."


    "To what end?" asked Estela. "I am no enemy. I am here with the leave of Benarus."


    "Lord Anias doesn''t meet with people with weapons," said Asus. "You will also have to leave that chest there."


    Estela looked at the chest on her back and narrowed her eyes. "This is precious cargo. And I do not intend to let it out of my sight."


    "It will be perfectly safe here," said Asus.


    Estela didn''t look like she believed him. Relma thought for sure she''d turn around and walk out. But finally, she unslung the chest, and it landed with a clang. "...Very well. However, the contents of the chest are mine. If they should be lost or stolen, the one responsible will regret it."


    Asus turned to Relma, who realized she was carrying Lightning Trail at her side. Drawing it out, she looked over the marvelous blade. Parting with it seemed wrong, a violation of a kind and Relma did not like it one bit. "I... I don''t want to just put Lightning Trail aside like this."


    "It is but a sword," said Asus. "And it will be returned to you when you leave."


    Relma did not believe him. "Estela, we should go."


    "Will you insult Lord Anias'' hospitality without even speaking with him?" asked Asus.


    "Just do it, Relma," said Estela with a sigh. "No one is going to be able to take Lightning Trail. Elranor himself gave you that sword."


    Relma handed it over reluctantly. Then Asus took a torch from the wall and led them away through the halls. It was dark in this place, and the only natural light came from arrowslits. The walls and floor were of rough stone, and it was clammy. But now and again, they would come to intricate, ornate weapons that were remarkable in one way or another.


    There was a veritable collection in this place.


    At last, they came to a room with many rich ornaments on the walls. Swords and axes, shields, and spears. An old man was sitting at a desk, bent over and writing. As they came in, he sat up and smiled. "Ah, the Heir of Kings and her companions. Thank you for bringing them this far Asus. As always, you''ve been a great help."


    "It is no trouble, milord," said Asus. "I''ll leave you in peace."


    "Of course," said Anias. The door shut as Asus left, and they were alone. The old man clasped his hands together as he eyed Relma. "Now. How nice of you to visit me."


    "Relma is my squire," said Estela.


    "Very nice indeed," said Ania, not sparing Estela a glance. "Would you care for some wine?"


    Relma said nothing.


    "Yes, thank you," said Estela flatly.


    "Then please, have a seat," said Anias, seemingly annoyed.


    Both of them sat down as Anias poured out several glasses and passed one to each of them. He then poured himself one and drank from it. Estela did as well, while Relma tasted it and found it a bit strong for her tastes. "This is one of my more memorable brands ¡ª a very old and distinguished beverage. I''m something of a collector. Of wine, and many other things at that."


    "What else do you collect?" asked Relma before she could stop herself. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''ve always had a particular fascination with weapons. Both decorative and practical," said Anias. "I remember young Fayn''s father gave me several unique foreign blades.


    "Now, I believe I ought to know just what it is you fine ladies are doing here?"


    "Was word not brought from Benarus?" asked Estela.


    "It was, but I''d like to hear it from you all the same," said Anias.


    "We have been planning to move through your lands on my way home to Escor," said Estela. "I thought we should present ourselves to you first."


    Anias nodded in a sagelike fashion. "Hmm, very interesting. Very interesting, indeed. I was told that you were returning home with some allies. And I guess you are bringing your winnings back with you."


    "I''m not certain that is relevant," said Estela.


    "A fair point," said Anias. "No doubt, the Kingdom of Escor has war plans."


    "Of one kind or another, yes," said Estela. "We aren''t seeking it, but it''s coming to us. The money will be very helpful there."


    "I see," said Anias. "And why is the Heir of Kings going with you? Surely so illustrious a name need not humble itself to playing squire."


    "Every knight needs to play squire at one point," said Estela.


    Anias smiled. "Once again, a fair point.


    "Now, let''s discuss the matter of price.


    "Price?" asked Estela.


    "Yes. After all, you are walking through my lands," said Anias. "Domains my family has ruled for generations. I think it only fair that I will be compensated for the trouble."


    "I have authorization from the Steward himself," said Estela.


    "Do you?" asked Anias, hands clasping together. "That is strange, for the letters I read seemed somewhat suspicious. I''ll need to get experts to confirm that the contents are indeed his handwriting. And that his seals are correct.


    "Until that time, I''ll offer you both my hospitality.


    "Of course, it could be a very long delay. Days, even weeks. And all sorts of unfortunate things might happen in Escor during that time."


    "Are you threatening us?" asked Estela.


    "No, merely inconveniencing you," said Anias with a friendly smile.


    "What do you want?" asked Estela. "A share of the profits?"


    Anias'' smile widened. "Nothing so petty, no. I want Lightning Trail."


    A silence that seemed to stretch into eternity fell over them.


    "What?" said Estela.


    Anias shrugged. "It is a remarkable antique, something that is ages old. I think it would look good on my wall."


    "I can''t give you that," said Relma. "It isn''t mine to give."


    "Are you not the Heir of Kings?" asked Anias. "And therefore, doesn''t it belong to you?"


    "No!" said Relma. "It was entrusted to me by Elranor! But I can''t just give it away!"


    "It is only a sword," said Anias. "The magic put into it is outdated by now anyway. One could get the same effect with any shiny piece of metal.


    "In fact, I''d gladly provide you with a duplicate."


    "I told you, I can''t give it up!" said Relma, horrified at the idea. "And I wouldn''t even if I could!"


    Anias paused. "I see.


    "That is most unfortunate. If you are unwilling to cooperate, there will likely be a lengthy delay." He looked to the door. "Asus. Just in time. Please let dear Fayn in. We have much to discuss. Excuse me for a moment." Then he motioned to his guards. "Escort these ladies to a cell, if you would."


    Estela reached for her sword, but there was a flash, and Relma remembered nothing else.

 Chapter 291 - Seven: What They Deserved

    Later, Relma paced restlessly within the cell as she thought about what to do. At least it was fairly large, with rough stone walls and straw on the floor. There was one window with bars, and one could see the branches of a tree out it. Estela sat at the far end, arms crossed and hair falling in front of one eye. The silence lasted until; finally, Estela sighed and looked up. "You should just give him the sword."


    "What?" said Relma. "How can you say that?"


    "Oh, come off it, Relma!" said Estela. "You''re a terrible fighter. You''ve lost just about every fight you''ve ever been in."


    "I defeated Ham Hawthorne in the Tournament of Kings," said Relma defensively.


    "He was angry, half-drunk, and overconfident," said Estela. "And he still almost crushed you." Estela had a point. But it was a point that was aimed completely off the mark. "Well, I don''t see what it has to do with not giving up the symbol of Harlenor Reunited to Anias."


    "Do you really think the Lords of Gel Carn are going to tolerate this?" asked Estela. "We can just come back later with an army and take it back."


    Assuming such an army could be gathered. And it would still be a breach of trust. "Lightning Trail is a symbol, Estela. If I hand that symbol over to Anias, I am handing over everything it represents. And anyway, Elranor wouldn''t approve."


    Estela stood up and brushed the hair out of her face. "Have you talked to him about this?"


    "No, but it seems the sort of thing he would disapprove of," said Relma. "Though I suppose I might be wrong. I should pray.


    "What are you even worried about?"


    "We''re prisoners, Relma," said Estela as if that made things obvious.


    "We''re prisoners who Lady Pandora the Sorceress has a vested interest in," said Relma with a shrug. "Do you think Anias will be able to hold us here? We don''t have to do anything. Pandora will do something any minute now, and the whole scheme will come tumbling down.


    "I don''t think Anias thought this through very well."


    "Do you even pay attention?" asked Estela. "Lady Pandora hates clashing with nobility. If she makes a scene here, it could have serious repercussions."


    Relma shrugged. "I never said it would be obvious. It''s not as if I''m expecting her to transform Reginald into a bear, kick in the doors, and murder all the guards. She will probably transform Lord Anias into a snake or something.


    "She''d have to be a monstrous egomaniac to do that. And Aunt Pan is more sensible than that. No, she''ll do something subtle as soon as she finds out about this.


    "We''d better make sure she finds out sooner," She paused as a thought occurred, and she saw a bird on the branches. "Well, we''ve got a window." She made her way over to it and reached out at the bird. "Hello there, come here."


    The bird leaped down to land on her finger. Estela scoffed. "Oh, so now you can talk to birds." Relma shrugged. "I don''t think I can. Talk less in the sounds. I understand what they mean by reading their spirits.


    "Excuse me, could you go to Pandora? You know her?" She heard a chirp. "Good, go and tell her that the Heir of Kings is being held captive. Go now."


    The bird flew off. With that done, Relma thought about what to do next. After a moment, he made her way over to the door and looked through the bars. "Excuse me, guard."


    The guard glanced back. "What is it?"


    "What''s your name?" asked Relma.


    "I''m not here to talk with you." said the guard.


    "Can you take a message to Lord Anias for me?" asked Relma.


    The man paused before turning to her in full. "I''m listening."


    "I heard that there was a boy in the dungeons," said Relma. "He burned his hand while trying to steal something. I was hoping to heal him."


    "Why do you care?" asked the guard.


    "Well, I believe even thieves deserve to be healed of their injuries," said Relma.


    The guard sighed and glanced at one of his fellows. "...Anis, go to Asus and ask on her behalf." Anis ran off. Relma turned and walked to sit down next to Estela. The knight frowned at her.


    "What are you doing?"


    "Getting out of the cell," said Relma in a low tone. "People have no reason to take me seriously, and I''ll be able to get a look at the castle."


    Estela nodded. "...Right."


    The guard came back, and Asus was with him. Asus opened the door and stepped in. "Lord Anias has given his permission. Come with me."


    And so Relma was led away. So she began to talk. "...So, how long have you served Lord Anias?"


    "Twelve years now," said Asus. "I trained in Magicora in my youth. I was forced to flee the city thanks to the machinations of my enemies. Anias pays me well, however."


    "And do you feel alright about helping him keep his guests captive?" asked Relma.


    "Morality isn''t real," said Asus. "People do whatever they think they can get away with. Those who try to hold to ideals end up dead or poor."


    "No, they don''t," said Relma. "I''m neither. And so are plenty of old people I know."


    "You''re young and stupid," said Asus. "Spend a few years doing mercenary work to keep food on the table and then tell me you''d never do anything ''evil'' for pay."


    "Did you?" asked Relma.


    Asus sighed. "Yes.


    "I had to do whatever jobs I could get. Anias pays me well, and I have a stable lifestyle in his service. That''s all I ask."


    "I''m sorry to hear that," said Relma.


    They walked in silence and eventually came to the cell. A soldier was standing guard there and saluted. "Sir Asus."


    "This girl is here to see the boy," said Asus. "Bring her to the cell."


    "Yes, sir." said the man before opening the door.


    Relma was led into the cell and saw a brown-haired boy covered in bruises and lying in the straw. He''d suffered a lot more than a burned hand since his attempt at theft. And Lord Anias was every bit as much of a thief. There was an irony there.


    "Is this him?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said Asus.


    "Who are you?" asked the boy as Relma approached.


    "You don''t need to be afraid," said Relma, kneeling by him. "I heard you got hurt. I can help."


    "My hand is still aching." said the boy.


    Relma touched the boy''s shoulder and channeled the will of Elranor. She felt his injuries and fought against them, soothing the pain. Little by little, the injuries disappeared. But the burn on his hand was harder; it seemed to cling to the flesh. Relma felt sweat drip down her brow as she tried to fix it.


    At last, it was gone.


    "There, it should be fine now," said Relma. "Where did you get these bruises?"


    "The guards," said the boy, "they beat me. They said I was a filthy thief. But... but all I wanted to do was see inside."


    "Ironic, isn''t it?" asked Relma. "They mistreat you for being a thief. But I''m only here in this cell because Lord Anias is trying to steal something from me." She made her way out with Asus, who eyed her.


    "This is all very kind of you," said Asus flatly as he shut the door. "He''ll hang today."


    "What?" said Relma. "Why?"


    "He tried to rob a knight," said Asus with a shrug. "Anias chose to hang him."


    "But Estela said she didn''t want him to hang," said Relma.


    "Estela is not the Lord Culhorn," said Asus. "Of course, he may consider a pardon in exchange for an act of goodwill."


    "He''s killing a child so that he can add a sword to his collection," said Relma. "For a crime that he is committing."


    "It is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity," said Asus flatly. "Give him Lightning Trail, and the boy will be pardoned."


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    Relma remained silent for a moment. If she gave up Lightning Trail, he might live. But wouldn''t it be far worse if she did? She couldn''t submit to this blackmail, not for anything. "I... I can''t! I can''t! It isn''t mine to give."


    "How unfortunate," said Asus. "Take the boy."


    The men entered the cell and pulled the boy out as Relma watched in horror.


    "What''s going on?" said the boy. But no one answered as he was dragged away.


    "This is wrong," said Relma. "You must know that!"


    "It''s ordered," said Asus.


    "Orders or not, your soul is yours to damn or save," said Relma, feeling suddenly detached and furious. Asus seemed very small all of a sudden. "Do you think Elranor will accept that excuse when you stand before his throne?"


    "No, please!" said the boy. "I wasn''t going to steal anything, I swear it! I swear!"


    The guard hit him. "Shut up, brat!"


    Asus'' expression flickered with conflict for a moment. His gaze seemed vulnerable for a single instant. Then he scowled, and his expression hardened. His heart had been hardened, and he would follow through with it. His choice was made; she could see into his soul. "If you want to save the boy, you will yield Lightning Trail to Lord Anias."


    Relma found herself led in a blur through the halls, then to a balcony overlooking the gallows. A noose had been tied, and people were gathering. Lord Anias stood there with armed guards. Asus was behind Relma, fingering his knife with doubt. But it needed to be stronger.


    "My people, today, we will see justice for a most serious crime," said Anias. "This boy, Richard Aucust, was caught attempting to steal from the noble Lady Estela¡ªa knight who travels in the company of the Heir of Kings.


    "Today, we will see the punishment dealt to this heretic."


    "You can still save him, you know," said Asus, doubt in his voice. "All you have to do is agree to yield the sword. Then I will send a signal to stop the execution."


    "I''ve already told Pandora what is going on here," said Relma, appealing to his pragmatism. "She''ll be on her way soon."


    Fear opened his heart again as Asus shifted. But the promise of future rewards and the fear of losing what he had closed it. "Lady Pandora is in no position to stop us. The spirits are working against you by the will of Lucius. Spirits that are only too willing to work for me.


    "I observed that much. It''s why Lord Anias is risking this."


    Then, the crowds began to murmur. Gradually, they parted as Lady Pandora emerged, looking far larger than before. Something about her radiated power. "Lord Anias, what is the meaning of this?"


    Anias smirked, or so Relma guessed. It seemed like something he would do. "Lady Pandora, I see you are here to observe justice done."


    "I''ve observed more than that," said Pandora. "Where is the Lady Estela and her squire?"


    "They are guests within my house, of course," said Lord Anias. "This is merely a demonstration. Now I must ask you to stand back and allow justice to be done."


    "How is this justice?" asked Lady Pandora. "Lady Estela specifically said that she wanted no harm done to the boy." Why was Relma thinking of her as Lady Pandora? It was like she was someone else right now.


    "Whatever she wants, he has violated my laws, and so, barring some miracle or pardon, must die," said Anias.


    "Aunt Pan! Help!" called Relma down toward her. Why hadn''t she called for help before?


    "She cannot hear you," said Asus. "The spells within this place prevent any words from carrying through to the outside."


    "What are you after by this, Anias?" asked Lady Pandora.


    "You wound me, Lady Pandora," said Lord Anias, voice cold. "Carry on with the execution. Now."


    As the boy was dragged to the noose, Relma found something furious within her awaken. Gradually, it was fitted around his neck. "Please! Please don''t hurt me! I didn''t; I didn''t-" Asus had let go of her. Relma turned around, grabbed his knife, drew it out, and stabbed him in the leg. He screamed and fell as Relma leaped onto his chest. "Arg! You little bitch, how dare-"


    She put the knife to his eye. A cold fury was on her, and he must have seen it. "Listen to me carefully, Asus. You will signal Lord Anias that I''ve agreed to your demands. Or I''m going to cut out your eyes.


    "I never want to kill anyone, so this is the next best thing. And you can be healed later. Understand?"


    Asus shuddered, looking as though he''d seen a ghost. "Yes."


    There was a brilliant flash of light above them. No doubt that was the signal. "So, it appears there has been a sign from Elranor. Very well, Lady Pandora. Consider the boy pardoned." Relma felt sick all of a sudden. She had hurt someone, nearly stabbed out his eyes. It had been cruel and horrible and unforgivable. Asus grabbed her arms and threw her off. Throwing her onto the floor he wrestled his knife around from her in a fury. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Relma saw in him a horrible fury born of greed. He was angry at the pain he had suffered. Angry at the humiliation she had dealt to him. Angry at possible punishment. But most of all, he was enraged by the money he would lose.


    "You miserable little brat!" Asus snarled, humanity fleeing from his face as he raised the knife. "Threaten me, will you!"


    And then a poleaxe went to Asus'' throat. He stared, and Relma looked up to see Fayn standing there. "Excuse me."


    "Fayn?" said Relma.


    "Still naive then?" said Fayn.


    Then she surged forward, and Asus'' head fell off his shoulders. It rolled to the edge of the balcony as his body spewed blood. It collapsed to its knees, then fell on the ground. Relma scrambled back, horrified. She hadn''t wanted Asus to die. If he''d lived, maybe he would have become good.


    Fayn''s reaction was understandable, even justified. But...


    "You didn''t have to kill him," said Relma.


    "Do you think this axe was meant for hugging?" asked Fayn. "Come on; we''ve got to get out of here."


    Relma shook her head. The situation had escalated. "No, it was really stupid. Before, all we did was deceive Anias. Now we''ve killed one of his subordinates. And Asus could have been useful after waking up." She followed Fayn. "What are you doing here, anyway?"


    "Cin''Dar kept track of your location by the fires on the walls," said Fayn. "He told me where you were. Anias shortchanged me and only gave me half of what I was promised. So I went to save you and spite him. Now come on, we''ve got to get Estela out of here."


    Guards ran down one hall toward them. "The prisoner is free!"


    Fayn raised her axe, and the flames shot from the torches to bar their way. "That should hold them for a time."


    They moved through the halls. Periodically, Fayn would block off halls to keep guards from following them. Several more guards who tried to block their way were disarmed in moments. At last, they came to the cell. Several guards were slammed about a bit by the flat of Fayn''s axe. The rest ran.


    "Here we are," said Fayn.


    "So are we going to pick the lock or-" began Relma.


    Fayn raised her axe and brought it down on the lock with a flash of fire. She cleaved right through. The door swung open as Fayn stepped through. "No. No, we are not." Estela stood up. "Fayn?"


    "Estela, glad to see you here," said Fayn. "Come on. We''re getting out of here."


    "Not without Lightning Trail," said Relma.


    "We can''t get Lightning Trail," said Fayn. "Anias and his guards are headed straight for it."


    "Then we''ll just have to get there first," said Relma. "Where is it?"


    Fayn sighed. "...Fine, it''s in the Great Hall. Come on."


    Estela snatched up a sword from one of the unconscious guards, and they ran. They heard or saw no sign of the guards as they did so. Then, ahead of them, they heard Anias. "Where is Asus?"


    "No word from him, sir. It seems that the Heir of Kings escaped after he gave the signal," said a voice. "She''s probably going to make a run for it."


    "It is of no great concern," said Anias in a cheerful tone. "Now that she has yielded authority over Lightning Trail to me, I may add it to my collection. It shall be my greatest prize yet."


    They reached the Great Hall and saw Anias approaching the wall. On that wall was hung Lightning Trail. It was flashing in the light, seeming to glare with anger.


    "With respect, sir, you should be careful," said a man. "The servants who touched the blade were burned. We''ve had to handle it with gloves until now."


    "That was when the Heir of Kings held it," said Lord Anias, drawing off his gloves. "Now, it is mine." And he reached out for it.


    Relma realized that if he took Lightning Trail, he would die. Someone else would have let it happen, but the memory of Asus'' death was in her mind. Everything he could have been, all the good he might have accomplished. It was cut short ¡ª all for one moment of mercilessness.


    Relma ran forward. "No, wait!"


    But it was too late. Anias took hold of the sword, then there was a flash and a scream. The old man fell backward, his skin blackened, and smoking, and Lightning Trail spun from his hand. It landed point down in the flagstones before Relma. She felt sick and thought she was about to throw up as she checked the body.


    "...Lord Anias?" asked a servant woman clad in white.


    "He''s dead," said Relma.


    "Seize them!" said the guard from before.


    "For what?" asked the servant.


    "...Killing Lord Anias," said the guard after a moment.


    "They didn''t kill Lord Anias," said the servant woman. "If anything, she tried to stop him from touching it."


    "Well, still, she''s an intruder," said the guard. "Our orders-"


    "Our orders came from Lord Anias," said the servant woman. "He''s dead. This means this place will go to whoever in his family is closest by blood. He didn''t have any sons."


    "But shouldn''t we take them into custody?" asked the guard.


    "She''s the Heir of Kings," said the servant. "Her sword kills people other than her who touch it. As long as Anias gave the orders, I was willing to follow them. But I''ll not be held responsible for heresy."


    "Is it heresy?" asked the guard.


    There were several contemplative murmurs at this. "I think so," said the servant woman after a moment.


    "Which means Anias'' lands may well be forfeit to the church," said the guard. "Damn it, where is Asus, exactly?"


    "He''s dead," said Relma, feeling miserable.


    "Did you kill him?" asked the servant.


    "No," said Relma. "I threatened him with a knife into telling Anias I''d given up Lightning Trail. Then he got free and tried to kill me. Then Fayn chopped his head off from behind."


    More contemplative murmurs. "...Meaning Asus was probably guilty of heresy as well," said the servant woman.


    "Alright, that''s it. I''ve had enough," said the guard. "I''m washing my hands of this whole nonsense. Take the sword and get out of this village. Best do it before people start asking inconvenient questions. I''ll let Steward Benarus or someone in authority decide what to do about this mess."


    "You''re taking all this pretty well," said Estela.


    "Anias paid his dues on time, at least to us," said the guard. "But he wasn''t exactly pleasant company. And anyway, what am I supposed to do? Kill you and your friends, then Lady Pandora, before being hung by Benarus?"


    "Good point," said Estela. "What''s your name?"


    The guard sighed. "Anagoth.


    "I''ll remember that," said Relma. "Um, where did Anias put Estela''s blade?"


    "It''s by the door, waiting for her," said Anagoth. "He wasn''t planning on stealing anything. Just extorting you."


    A door opened, and Ham Hawkthorne rushed in. The big man was clad in reddish armor and held his sword in one hand, freshly bloodied. His helmet was off, and he was coated in sweat. and he walked with a limp before falling to one knee. "Anagoth! Anagoth! Where are Anias and Asus?"


    "Anias is there," said Anagoth. "Asus is somewhere else without a pulse. What is it?"


    "Dead? Damn, it all! The woodsmen have reports for us," said Ham. "A huge force of satyrs is heading to the castle as we speak. They''ll be here at any hour. I had to fight a dozen of them on my way out and narrowly got out." He looked to Relma. "Milady, what is going on here? I didn''t even know you were here."


    "It''s a long story," said Estela. "We''ll tell you later."


    "Focus," said Anagoth. "Rally the men." Then he looked at them. "Estela, Fayn, you''ve deprived us of two swords today. Kindly replace them."


    "He''s right," said Relma. "We''ve got to help."


    "Heir of Kings-" began Anagoth.


    "My name is Relma," said Relma.


    "Do you have any skills?" asked Anagoth.


    "Well, I''m a decent fighter," said Relma. "But I can heal people. I''m better at that."


    "Good," said Anagoth. "I''ll place you behind the lines to heal the wounded. You''ll be of use and won''t get killed there. Kindly go to Lady Pandora and your other companions. Ask them for help. I expect we''ll need their help soon."


    "Right," said Relma.


    Only once Relma was out of sight did she allow herself to throw up. She''d wished she''d had a chance to talk with Ham in better circumstances.

 Chapter 292 - Eight: Fairy Queen Isriath

    When Relma emerged from the castle, she found the village in chaos. People were hurrying into the walls, carrying bags and food. Soldiers rushed along the walls, preparing the defenses. And then she saw Aunt Pan come on and hug her. Relma felt embarrassed by the embrace and tried to free herself from it.


    Eventually, Pan let her go and smiled. "Relma, thank goodness you are alright. What happened?"


    "Lord Anias took us captive and tried to get me to give up Lightning Trail," said Relma. "He said he''d hang that boy if I didn''t."


    "You didn''t, did you?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "No, of course not," said Relma, surprised she even had to ask. "But I tricked him into thinking I had. So he grabbed Lightning Trail, and it killed him. I tried to stop him, Aunt Pan, but I wasn''t fast enough. And Fayn killed Asus."


    "If they were trying to steal Lightning Trail, they deserved what happened to them," said Aunt Pan.


    "Maybe they did, and maybe they didn''t," said Relma. "But people deserve a lot of things. And, I mean, nobody cares. No one cared that Anias was dead, not even his guards.


    "It makes me sad." However, Anias had given her no choice. Still, Relma ought to mourn her fallen enemies, shouldn''t she?


    "Whatever the case, our plans will have to be put on hold," said Aunt Pan. "The satyrs are coming as we speak. We must decide whether to stay and fight or slip past them."


    "For my part, I intend to fight," said Estela as she came forward, now wearing her armor and sword. "It''s an opportunity for glory, and if the battle goes badly, the satyrs might ravage Gel Carn."


    "Same here," said Fayn.


    Aunt Pan looked at them. "Well, that more or less decides it, doesn''t it?"


    Estela and Fayn moved off, but Aunt Pan stopped Relma as she tried to follow. Listen, Relma; I want you to stay out of the fighting."


    "I know," said Relma. "I was already asked to take my place among the healers."


    "You don''t mind?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "Why would I?" said Relma. "I''m not all that great of a warrior. My only real victory so far has been against an overconfident, half-drunk man. And he was acting recklessly. Oh, and beating Fayn when the Heaven''s Eye coursed through me.


    "Besides, I don''t want to kill anyone."


    "You have a strange way of seeking glory," said Aunt Pan.


    "I don''t seek that kind," said Relma. The idea of putting a sword through someone made her feel sick. Ending a life...


    It was something she never wanted to do.


    "Still, there is something I need you to do, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "My connection to the spirits of the land is tenuous at the moment.


    "I''d appreciate it if you could speak to them for me."


    "Right," said Relma. So Aunt Pan needed her for something at last. "So, how do we do that?"


    "With difficulty," said Aunt Pan. "Come with me."


    Aunt Pan led them out of the castle, beyond the village walls, and toward the marsh. As they did, Relma half-expected satyrs to come rushing out of it at any moment. The trees were hunched over and menacing. The people they saw were all fleeing away from the marsh, though there were only a few. Nobody seemed to build on this side of town.


    "Are you sure we should go outside the walls?" asked Relma. "Everyone else is going in." The longer they stayed out here, the more likely they''d have to fight. Relma didn''t think much of her chances by herself and wasn''t sure how good Aunt Pan was. Though Relma doubted she''d be defenseless.


    "Spirits don''t like change," said Aunt Pan. "Tradition is important to them. Trying to communicate with them without going to the proper place is ill-advised. It is generally considered bad form. And form is everything to some of them."


    "Couldn''t we wait for a better time?" asked Relma.


    "Unfortunately, if we don''t do this now, I may not be able to use any magic in the coming battle," said Aunt Pan.


    Soon, they went into the marsh itself. You could smell the salt before you got into the murky water. The wind blew through it, rustling in the underbrush, and Relma felt a tenseness in the air. The trees yielded before them, and they suddenly came to a small hill that rose out of the water. On it were standing stones, heavily carved. Relma looked at them, admiring the symbols on them.


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    "They are some of the oldest ruins in all of Harlenor," said Aunt Pan, going forward. "Perhaps the oldest. Here was where the ancient men worshipped the spirits of the land before''s coming of Elranor. In those days, humans and satyrs were on good terms.


    "Almost brothers."


    "Why did they become enemies?" asked Relma.


    "Humanity grew out of its bloodthirsty nature," said Aunt Pan. "The satyrs did not. It isn''t entirely their fault, for it was a part of their essence." She took hold of Relma''s shoulders and led her to a circle of small stones. "Now come, stand here."


    Then, suddenly, the trees'' leaves began to flow in waves. They swirled around them, faster and faster. Relma could see a figure within the leaves, emerging gradually. The water around them suddenly shone golden as light burst forth from the leaves. Before, Relma was a stunningly beautiful woman. She was like an elf but with two colorful butterfly wings on either side of her body. Her hair was yellow like gold, and clad in a green tunic. Bells were hanging from her waist, and she went barefoot. On her head was a golden circle.


    "So you have come, Pandora." said the woman.


    "Fairy Queen Isriath, I have come as you requested," said Aunt Pan.


    Isriath looked over Relma. "This is her, then? A pure aura is not something I have seen in many ages of this world. It is like new cloth that has never been touched by dirt or grime.


    "I can see why Lucius seeks her."


    Relma felt it was her turn to speak, and she did so before she could think. "Do you know why Lucius is after me?"


    "I have my suspicions," said Isriath. "But it is not a matter I have concerned myself with overmuch. Knowing that whatever it is is against your best interests is enough.


    "He has requested my assistance and the assistance of the spirits of the land. In return, he has promised to return us to power."


    "Are you going to help him?" asked Relma.


    Isriath laughed, and her voice was like the sound of a harp. "To the point, aren''t you?


    "We''re about to be invaded by an army of satyrs," said Relma. "We don''t have much time."


    "In light of the circumstances, it is forgivable," said Isriath. "Though I may choose not to forgive it."


    "You aren''t answering my question," noted Relma, filled with a strange confidence.


    Isriath smiled. "I think I like this one.


    "Lucius promises me great power. But deals with him always have a price. I have considered it, however, for the fairies have faded. In ages past, we were held in great respect and adoration by humans and satyrs alike.


    "Then came your sire, Anoa the Bright.


    "He had no heed for the old ways. He cast down our sacred stones and killed many of us."


    "You neglect to mention something. Mortal sacrifice was practiced at these stones, Isriath," said Aunt Pan. "And your kind often overstepped the boundaries of their agreements."


    Isriath shook her head. "So we did. But we were among the only race to take human part against Alchara. And for that, we were repaid with our blood.


    "I will admit that Anoa II did much to redeem his race, though not nearly enough. Others did the same. Though that one Steward..." A grimace came to her face. "She richly deserved her fate."


    "Which Steward?" asked Relma.


    "One of Benarus'' ancestors," said Aunt Pan. "She attempted to destroy many of the remaining sacred places. Laevian, however, cursed her, and she fled south into the Road of Ancient Stone. Given she has not been seen in centuries, she is probably dead.


    "I never did find out what happened to her, however."


    "Whatever her fate, now the fairies have recovered somewhat," said Isriath. "Some of our sacred places have been recreated, our homes reestablished.


    "But we dwell in hiding, operating through spirits. And we cannot grow any further without being known. Yet we dare not stand in the light for fear that mortals will seek our end again."


    "Can I do something to help you?" asked Relma.


    "Perhaps," said Isriath. "If you were to become King of Harlenor Reunited, you would have great power. Power great enough to restrain the axes of mortals. To reign in their destructive tendencies so that we could return to the light. To establish shrines to the old ways."


    "Whether you work for or against me, I promise you that I will do my best to ensure justice is done," said Relma.


    Isriath looked at her in surprise. Her wings beat the air. "You aren''t one for bargaining, are you?"


    "Would it help?" asked Relma. "I don''t know this Lucius or what he has offered you. But I''ve heard of what he''s done, and everything I''ve heard tells me he is not a very good person. Do you want someone like that ruling supreme over Harlenor Reunited?


    "Or a foolish but well-intentioned person who''s willing to listen?"


    "And yet, should we side with you against Lucius and you are defeated, it will be far worse for us," said Isritath. "He knows our places, and should we turn against him, I fear he will wither every root we''ve set down."


    "I can''t disagree," said Relma. "I don''t know him. But I''ll do everything I can to make sure that doesn''t happen. It may not be very much, but I won''t be alone. There are others in Harlenor, plenty of good people who will understand what you want.


    "If we can gather them together, all of doing a little bit at a time will add up. Eventually, Harlenor Reunited may be created, greater than ever before. Without the weaknesses of the old one."


    "And what can you promise us for our support?" asked Isriath.


    "Only that I will do everything in my power to rule fairly," said Relma, feeling like she was repeating herself.


    Isriath stared at her in bewilderment and amazement. "...You truly are a poor player, you know. Every mortal I''ve negotiated with before, you have made promises. All in exchange for support later. Yet you offer nothing. And ask nothing. You only say your intentions and leave me to seek all the negotiating.


    "I am impressed with your resolve. But I expect you will come to a bitter end.


    "I will remain neutral in this conflict between you and Lucius, helping neither side. Nor shall I hinder them. Lady Pandora, I shall make no move to restrain you."


    Aunt Pan stepped forward. "Thank you, Queen Isriath. We must leave soon. The satyrs are coming."


    "And so they will," said Isriath. "Perhaps in this conflict, places shall be freed where the fair folk may establish new homes. Farewell."


    Then she faded, and the light was gone. Aunt Pan turned to her. "That was very well done, Relma. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You convinced them not to act against you without promising anything in return. I was expecting we''d need to make some quests. Or worse. That is the usual way these things go down.


    "We''d best go."


    They hurried back. As they did so, they heard the sound of drumbeats growing closer behind them. By the time they came near the gates, they were deafening. The wood was alive with howls and snarls. Glancing back, Relma saw satyr scouts peering out of the woods.


    The castle walls were all manned. The villages were empty, and the door was shut. As they neared it, the lookout called aloud: "Open the gates; the Heir of Kings is back."


    They were met by Varsus, who was sharpening his sword by the gate. He looked up. "Relma, where did you go?"


    "To negotiate with the fairies," said Relma. "You see-"


    "Enough of this," said Aunt Pan. "Relma, go to the healers. I must take my place on the walls."


    Disappointed, Relma was led to a large stone building. There were dozens of bedrolls laid out around it. A portly, forty-year-old woman hurried up, hair covered in white. It was the servant woman from before, now that Relma thought of it. She hadn''t had time to notice the details before with everything happening.


    "You''re the Heir of Kings, then? How good are you at healing?" asked the woman.


    "I can deal with minor injuries easily," said Relma. "Though I''m not-"


    "Fine then, I want you on the walls, tending to what injuries you can." said the woman. "If you see someone with an arrow sticking out of them, don''t drag it out. Leave that to the ones with medical experience.


    "I don''t want any heroics. Your job is healing, not hurting. Remember that!"


    Relma nodded. "Yes, ma''am."


    "Good. Now go." said the woman.


    Business as usual, then. Relma rushed to help.

 Chapter 293 - Ten: Battle on the Walls

    Back up, Relma went to the walls, carrying a jug of water with her. She offered to anyone who became thirsty. As she reached the top, she saw both the militia and the man at arms assembling on the walls. Spears and bows were in their hands, as well as some axes. They looked out over the fields where, even now, the satyrs were beginning to emerge.


    They hadn''t yet come out of the marshes, however. Many were half-submerged in the water. Others were peering out of the trees or hanging from branches. Like the apes from the stories Aren used to tell.


    Eventually, Relma reached Varsus, where he stood with the blade at his side. To her surprise, he was standing with the officers from before. And they were speaking to him as a commander. She supposed he was the highest rank of any present except Reginald. Relma was the Heir of Kings, so that didn''t hold up. And Aunt Pan didn''t even have a rank.


    "Relma, what are you doing here?" asked Varsus as she approached.


    "The healer asked me to look after anyone injured on the wall," said Relma.


    "Excellent," said Varsus. "Every bit helps. You can stay here if you wish. We''ll have a better view of things. At least until the carnage starts."


    "Sir Varsus, the message has been sent out," said Anagoth, approaching. "Frederick and De Cathe know what is happening. With luck, they''ll bring reinforcements."


    ''How far away are they?" asked Varsus.


    "Three days," said Anagoth.


    "The satyrs may be gone by the time they come then," said Varsus.


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma, forgetting her place.


    "This may be a raid," said Varsus. "We still don''t know the enemy''s full strength. Our reports came from trees, and they never say anything clearly. At least not without taking three years about it."


    "You can talk to trees?" asked Relma.


    "No," said Anagoth. "But some among our folk can. It''s a skill that helps us defend against satyr raids. Anias sending Fayn out there was sheer idiocy."


    "Where is Fayn?" asked Relma. "And Estela, for that matter? I haven''t seen them anywhere."


    "They and Reginald have orders of their own," said Varsus. "Look there."


    And out of the trees came the satyrs. Wearing war paint, they howled and gnashed their teeth as they rushed out. The mud of the marsh was on them. They looked more like animals than sentients; Relma realized that was an awful thing to think. Their spears, axes, and swords were in their hands as they rushed forward.


    Those few houses that remained had their doors kicked in. The satyrs entered, searching around for anything to look at. Fields were torn up, and crops trampled as they hacked down everything they found. One or two human screams could be heard from people who hadn''t gotten out in time. Relma saw distant figures being pulled from their houses before packs of satyrs fell on them. They were covered beneath a pile of satyrs, and then the screams halted. Then, one of the creatures rose up with a bloodied mouth and snarled.


    "That''s far more than I expected," said Anagoth. "And no ladders."


    "Yes," said Varsus. "No doubt they are counting on spiritual support. Fortunately, I''ve arranged for their coming not to be unwelcomed." Then he drew a horn and blew it a long, shrill call.


    As it rang, the ground seemed to shift as a large force of warriors emerged from the grass. They fell on the satyrs while pillaging and killing all they could.


    Estela was at the front, hacking down all who came before her. Reginald was to her left, his serrated blade moving in a blur. Ham was on the right, slashing the enemy with ruthless strikes. One of the satyrs caught him across the helm with his sword, but Ham powered through and ran him through.


    Then there was Fayn, sending waves of flame here and there to scorch satyrs. Some were reduced to charred corpses. Others caught fire and fled, screaming away in search of water. Often, their sparks lit up others.


    Chaos engulfed the battlefield as the satyrs responded and rushed at them. But the warriors formed up, locking their shields. Spears were lowered, and the satyr attack halted as it smashed against them. Many fell from the spears during the first charge. Warriors met those who got through with swords.


    Varsus watched in satisfaction. "Reginald and Estela were waiting in ambush alongside a large part of the militia. Fayn is with them."


    "But they can''t fight all of them," said Anagoth. "You''re throwing good men away."


    "No, but they can give them a bloody nose," said Varsus. "And that can demoralize an enemy. Pandora, call forth the insects."


    Aunt Pan had been standing in the shadow of the gatehouse. Relma hadn''t even noticed her there. Coming forward, Aunt Pan raised a hand. "As you wish."


    Insects? Relma stared at the battlefield and suddenly saw a mist begin to gather. It got thicker, little by little. Wherever it went, the satyrs broke and backed away. Soon, it was covering nearly the entire battlefield. "Flies," she realized. "Their flies!"


    "And other creatures," said Pandora. "I''ve been gathering the flies and stinging insects from across the land to this region for weeks. It was ever since I received news of the massings satyrs. Now, they are unleashed against our enemies.


    "Never underestimate the power of a stinging insect."


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Then the world seemed to shift, the sky changing hue like some will have been set in motion. A silver netting seemed to fill the air as a black mass rushed past the satyr ranks. The satyrs took heart and charged behind them. The nets swung this way and that, catching the flies by the dozens with every swing.


    "What are those?" asked Relma.


    "Spiders of Rioletta," said Aunt Pan with a frown. "They are using their webs to catch the flies.


    So it appears that Lucius has other allies." Then she raised her hand skyward. "Come forth, birds of the world! Feast on the spawn of demons!"


    And out of the trees came birds. Hundreds of birds flew out and began to dive-bomb down into the battlefield. They snatched up spiders one after another, devouring them whole. And more birds came behind them. The battlefield now seemed a mass of darting shapes, yet Relma felt it was not yet over.


    For a satyr, warrior stood upon a rock and let out a call like a bird. And many birds of prey swooped out of the trees to begin hunting. The mortal combatants now seemed insignificant, one part of a much greater battle. The corpses of thousands, perhaps more than thousands, were piling up. There were insects, mortals, birds, everything you could imagine.


    "Hawks," said Relma. "I''ve never seen so many of them before."


    "The satyrs have contacts of their own," said Varsus.


    "Sound the withdrawal," said Pandora. "We''re doing well, but they''ll be overwhelmed once the satyrs begin to advance."


    Varsus drew his horn and blew it again. On reflex, the warriors fighting the satyrs began to withdraw. As they did, a great flame rose between them and the enemy, scorching the grass. Many creatures were burned away by the fire that covered their retreat.


    "That was a far more impressive display than I thought Fayn capable of," said Pandora.


    "She has advanced much in wielding Cin''Dar''s power," said Varsus.


    On came the retreating troops, and the gates were opened for them. Many of them looked sick, and many were injured. Not one of them was covered in bug bites. And outside, Relma saw the battle gradually clearing. The bodies were dragged away or devoured.


    "Relma, there will be wounded among our vanguard," said Varsus. "Go to them and heal them as best you can."


    "Yes, Varsus," said Relma.


    The wounded were many, and the healers were hard at work tending to them. Relma saw several minor cuts and several significant bruises. Though they would not be minor if they got infected.


    Then she saw Fayn.


    The girl was lying on the ground, several men keeping the pressure on her side. Her breastplate had been removed to show black clothes stained with blood. Relma kneeled by her. "Let me see her." And she began to work at healing the injury. It was a serious one, and she had to work at it a lot to make any progress at all.


    "What happened to her?" she asked to distract herself.


    "A satyr caught her in the side with its spear." said the man. "Though it lost its head for the trouble."


    "Hold on a moment," said Relma, finishing the job. "There, that should help." Fayn''s eyes opened. "Are you alright, Fayn?"


    "Fine, now tend to someone else!" snapped Fayn.


    Relma smiled and stood. "Right."


    Finishing her rounds, Relma eventually found Estela with a bandage around her arm. She approached quickly. "Estela, are you alright?"


    "It''s just a scratch," said Estela. "We did well today. Reginald must have killed a dozen of them."


    "How is that good?" asked Relma.


    "They aren''t a threat anymore," said Estela.


    "Oh right," said Relma, reminding herself there were benefits to killing enemies.


    But then Estela looked up, and her expression became strange. "...Are those clouds? There weren''t any like that a few minutes ago."


    Relma looked up at the clouds that grew darker and darker before them. As if a thunderstorm might be unleashed at any moment. "Do you think this is Lucius?"


    "Lady Estela, Sir Reginald!" called a man.


    "What is it?" asked Estela.


    "Come to the wall, quickly," said the man.


    They quickly rushed out and looked out over the darkening landscape. Then they saw something truly horrible. Bleached white bones, stripped of flesh, had arisen again. Ranks of skeletons march forward. Hewn bodies had reassembled, still bleeding to move forward. Relma saw wounded satyrs running themselves through. Then they arose in death and drew the blades out.


    "The dead... the bodies of the dead are rising again," said Estela, face white.


    "Only the satyrs," said Pandora, appearing. "They''ve given themselves fully to Lucius. The very ground beneath their feet groans in agony."


    "Archers ready!" called Varsus.


    "Aim for the live satyrs. Your arrows will be little good against the dead," said Pandora. "I am drawing back the animals I summoned to a defensive position. These powers are not natural and can be fought with nature."


    Arrows rained as the dead marched forward as a vanguard. The live satyrs stayed out of range, letting the walking corpses near them. As they neared, plants began to grow at the base of the wall. Vines scaled in moments up the walls, wrapping around them. And the dead began to climb as arrows plunged into them uselessly.


    "Fayn, get up here!" called Reginald down. "Quickly!"


    "Relma, go to work at once!" said Pandora.


    "Yes, Aunt Pan!" said Relma.


    And then the dead reached the top. Then began the battle, as men hacked down at the corpses. Limbs were hewed off; heads were split. Sometimes, the wounds even killed them. The dead were not very good fighters, but that wasn''t their purpose.


    It was a distraction. The archers couldn''t fire while grappling with the undead, and now the satyrs were also scaling up the vines. Relma dodged under a scimitar blade to heal a wounded man on the ground. His eyes were vacant as her flesh knit. "Come on, get up! Your friends need you!"


    Then she saw some militia, terrified, running for the stairs. Quickly, Relma got between them.


    "What are you doing?" she asked, voice calm. "Why are you running when the battle is the other way?"


    The men looked ashamed, then ran back. And Relma went to heal more wounded. But it became clear that things were going badly. The satyrs who were killed always rose again as undead. The mass of bodies on the wall was increasing. All Relma could do was keep the men fighting, giving water where she had to.


    And then there came the howl of a wolf.


    Relma''s heart leaped, and she ran to the edge. There, she saw hundreds of wolves and many figures who were a mix of wolves and human. They sprinted out of the trees and fell on the satyrs from behind, tearing through them. And there was Ajax, his silver hair flowing as he ripped satyr after satyr to shreds with his bare hands. His sister, Anya, was down there, fighting nearly as well.


    And it was not the last of the help. For out of the trees came armored men, clad for war. And hundreds of halflings riding upon wolves. At their head were Sir Frederick and Ronald. They broke the satyr ranks and drove them on.


    "Ajax! Ajax has come!" called Relma. "Sir Frederick and De Cathe are with him! They are here!"


    "But how?" said Estela. "They''re three days away."


    "Apparently not," said Relma.


    Soon, the assault drew off to repel the new attack. Frederick and his allies formed up to meet them and charged. But even as he did, the dead rose up in a mockery of life. Caught from two sides, they were soon surrounded and fighting for their lives. And more satyrs came out of the woods to reinforce them.


    "They''ll be killed for sure," said Estela before rushing, looking for Varsus. She found him resting on his blade, two dead satyrs at his feet. "Varsus! Varsus, we have to go out to aid them!"


    Varsus looked up. "Reginald, prepare to go to their aid."


    "The men are exhausted. We''re in no position to attack," said Reginald.


    "We have no choice," said Varsus. "We''ll carve a path of escape for them and then retreat to the fortress. With time we may be able to-"


    And then something arose within Relma. A power not her own but of her kind. Lightning Trail was naked in her hand of its own accordingly. She felt the power growing within it as she was drawn to the edge of the wall. "There is no need."


    "Relma, what are you doing?" asked Estela.


    Relma leaped up onto the parapet and raised the sword skyward. Power blazed within her as the skies rumbled ever stronger. "In the name of Lord Elranor, be gone from this world!" she cried aloud, though it was not her speaking. Everyone turned to her, even the dead. "Come lightning and thunder! Consume the armies of the dead, be obliterated down to the last bone!"


    The clouds opened, and lightning fell upon them like rain. Thousands of flashes were seen across the battlefield. A lightning rain smashed down on the dead, blasting them and the enemies with them. Some ran, only to be consumed. Others pressed forward and were destroyed. The enemy was consumed by rain and fire from the sky in a mere instant. The battle was won.


    And then it was over. The enemy army was destroyed. Relma felt sick.


    "Hail Relma Artorious!" said Lady Pandora. "Hail the Heir of Kings!" S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "HAIL THE HEIR OF KINGS!" came the cry.


    They had won. But at great cost. Though few of Relma''s friends were killed, her enemies had all died around her. It made her sad.

 Chapter 294 - Eleven: Aftermath

    As the cheers of victory continued, Varsus gave orders. The man really did seem like the epitome of the composed and brave knight. With his blonde hair and tall, lean figure, he looked heroic. It was ironic since Reginald had done far better on the battlefield. He and Ham had slain many satyrs and undead, while Varsus had largely focused on command. Still, he looked thoughtfully at Relma when he thought she didn''t see him. Relma felt Varsus was judging her as surely as he was judging him.


    He was the son of Sir Arthur Gabriel, one of the greatest Paladins of his era. But he didn''t seem at all like a Paladin. He didn''t have the kind of light you''d expect. But then William hadn''t had that light either, not in the same way. Maybe Relma had the wrong expectations for them. Either way, people cheered Varsus on where he walked. Aunt Pan was similarly looking at her, and Relma felt awkward here.


    "...I wasn''t aware that Zeya owed Elranor any favors," said Aunt Pan suddenly. "It must have been some recent event. I wonder what it was?" Relma felt that whatever it was, it had nothing to do with her.


    "It is of no present relevance," said Varsus, who seemed to agree. "Men, see to the wounded and get the dead off the walls. I want those plants cleared off now." That sounded like something William would say. But Varsus seemed to mean it more, somehow.


    "Relma, go among the men and heal anyone injured or hurt," said Aunt Pan.


    Relma nodded and moved off. She spent what seemed like hours healing people and accepting pledges of gratitude. Several people clapped her on the back as she walked, and she nearly stumbled. Even so, she managed to heal many of the less wounded people. She left the rest for the more experienced healers. But she heard men whispering that she had healed thousands,


    Relma felt more like the face of a legend than a person in her own right.


    Then the gates opened, and Frederick came through on wolfback. With him were all the other parts of the army. Relma moved down and saw Estela going to meet Frederick. "Lady Estela, I see your steel is as sharp as always," said Frederick, dismounting.


    "Sir Frederick, I''m flattered you think so," said Estela, bowing.


    "Where is Lord Anias?" asked Frederick. "Should he not be here?"


    "Lord Anias is dead, I''m afraid," said Estela. "We''ll explain in private. For now-"


    But at that moment, the woman who''d assigned Relma to the walls grabbed her by the shoulder.


    "Good, you''re here. We''ve got dozens of wounded coming in from the advance force. I''ll need you to tend to the less serious cases." And she moved off before glancing at Relma. "Come quickly, girl! We''ve got no time!"


    Relma blinked. "Yes, ma''am."


    The wounded from the battle were far worse than those on the walls. Some of them were covered in thousands of tiny bites. Their skin had gone an unnatural purplish color, and their breath was short. "What happened to them?" asked Relma.


    "These ones were attacked by the spiders," said the woman. "They''ve got many smaller wounds, and the venom is within them. They aren''t for you." She led her out to a room filled with people suffering from ordinary wounds that weren''t as bad. "These are yours."


    Relma quickly got to work, healing everyone she could. It wasn''t long before she became tired from doing it, feeling the sweat drip from the effort. Channeling the divine was hard work. Then she saw someone she knew. "Ronald?"


    Ronald had several cuts on him, and a blade cut his curly hair unevenly. But he smiled anyway. "Hello, Relma, fancy meeting you here."


    "How went the battle?" asked Relma, setting to work on him.


    "Didn''t you see?" asked Ronald. "We rode them down by the dozens. Of course, then they-"


    At that moment, a man was hurried through on a stretcher. His face was white, and his eyes looked dead. He was hardly breathing. "What happened to him?" said Relma. "There are hardly any wounds on him."


    "He was gripped by the dead," said Ronald. "It''s one of the powers of the Withering, Lucius domain. If you are held by one of its creatures too long, it seeps into you."


    Relma shuddered as she finished. "I have to move on to others. We''ll talk later."


    At the last moment, a girl rushed up to the woman who commanded all of them. She was a very tall elf, with long silver hair tied into a bun above her head and clad all in white. "Healer Atraya."


    "What is it, girl?" asked the woman.


    "The wolf leader requests your aid tending to some of his wolves," said the girl.


    "Wolves?" asked Atraya. "Do I look like a druid? Or a Seer of Laevian?"


    "They are suffering from ails their own healers are hard-pressed to heal." said the girl.


    "The effects of the withering, no doubt," said Atraya. "Very well, let them in. But if my workers are bitten or scratched, they all go out."


    And so the work began anew. Relma was kept plenty busy moving from one wounded person to the next. When she finished the less-wounded, she was simply moved to the next. Finally, it was done, and Atraya took her to one side. "Well, that deals with most of them, I think. You did a reasonably passable job at the whole thing. Reasonably."


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "What would constitute a good job?" asked Relma.


    "Something out of your reach, I assure you," said Atraya. "Now clean yourself up and get out."


    "Yes, ma''am," said Relma before obeying.


    She''d only made her way out of the healing rooms when she was approached by another familiar face. A girl with dark hair and the ears and tail of a gray wolf, clad in a fur cloak. "I was wondering where I''d find you."


    "Anya, what are you doing here?" asked Relma, remembering their last encounter.


    "I live in this region, not that it''s any of your business," said Anya. "I would have been content to let this whole region fall, but Ajax convinced me it was in our interest."


    "So you''ve made up, then?" asked Relma, remembering their rivalry. Anya had felt like the unfavorite between her and Ajax. She''d felt that Telix favored Ajax without reason. And Relma, privately, thought she might have had good reason to believe so. Ajax hadn''t struck Relma as a very mature person when they first met. Though Anya had nearly turned Relma into a werewolf as part of that vendetta.


    So Relma would not be saying that to his face. Especially since Anya seemed to have similar problems. Best to stay tactful and keep them working together toward a common goal.


    "No," said Anya, as if surprised she''d even consider the idea.


    So much for that.


    Then again, Anya and Ajax were both much older than they looked. Ajax was born around the time of the Escorian Civil War several generations back. That had been the death of Erik the Voyager, Varsus'' ancestor. As Relma had learned, it had a defining effect on everyone who lived through it. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Ajax never spoke of those days. Aunt Pandora sometimes did, and Relma felt it was the reason she was so overprotective.


    "Oh, so when did you move here?" asked Relma.


    "I didn''t," said Anya. "My wolves and I were withdrawn to the Wolven Forest on the order of Father. We were expecting a war. When one didn''t happen, we went back home."


    Well, this was awkward. "Well, I''m glad you were here."


    "So am I," said Anya. "With all these satyrs dead, it should be much easier to carve out new territories in this domain. I could lead you, humans, to their strong point.


    "Or it might be better to play the sides."


    "Wouldn''t it be better to stick with your allies?" asked Relma.


    Anya shrugged dismissively. "Humans don''t stick with their allies. When we lived in Escor, House Vortegex pledged our broods territory in the Fair Forest. That is south of the Fairy Hills. We lived there for a hundred years and secured his border against their enemies in the north.


    "Then he defeated those enemies and drove us out. We''ve only a small brood in that region now, hunted by their kind."


    "I''m sorry to hear that," said Relma, meaning it.


    "You being sorry doesn''t change anything," said Anya. "What frustrates me is that we didn''t even get any meat out of this."


    "Meat?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said Anya. "We eat satyrs and humans too, you know. Or at least my pack does. Ajax and his are squeamish about it all."


    "Oh, I see," said Relma, somewhat taken aback.


    "And elves," said Anya. "They''re probably the best meat, but they don''t really give much of it. Also, they tend to put up a better fight than your average human. A much better fight, actually."


    "I''d rather not talk about this," said Relma. Oddly enough, she didn''t mind per se. It was just another culture. Humans always killed humans, so eating them meant the meat wasn''t being wasted. Still, discussing it so openly was probably not a good idea.


    Then Ajax barreled into view, leaping clean over the walls to land before them in a crouch. He stretched and moved forward. "Relma, there you are. The scent of death is so strong I couldn''t find you. Was that you on the battlements with the sword?"


    "Yes, it was," said Relma. "Though it wasn''t me calling the lightning. It was me who drew the sword in the first place.


    "How did Ronald do?"


    "Let me think," said Ajax. "I remember he speared down two satyrs with his lance before he was pulled down. But he got loose and cut their legs out from under them. Then they rose up again as the dead. He was pulled down, but De Cathe and Frederick came quickly to his aid.


    "They hacked their way through dozens of the monsters and pulled them away."


    That sounded... deeply unpleasant, though Relma thought it very impressive. She hoped Ronald wouldn''t expect her to be deeply impressed by it. The thought of those satyrs families learning about their deaths...


    But then, Ronald would have been killed if he hadn''t killed them, and they were the attackers.


    War was terrible, Relma supposed, and that was why she had to become King. To make sure things like this didn''t happen. Or at least that they were kept under control.


    "Where are De Cathe and Frederick now?" asked Relma.


    "Well, Frederick is meeting with Lady Pandora and Varsus," said Ajax. "Last I checked De Cathe was pulled down by the undead." He looked at Anya. "Anya, they wanted to meet with you. Or so, I guess. I''m not interested."


    "Well, I''d hate to keep the sheepherders waiting," said Anya. Then she walked off.


    "Sheepherders?" asked Relma.


    "A name for humans," said Ajax. "I heard the Lord was dead before the battle started. Know anything about that?"


    "He tried to steal Lightning Trail and died before I could stop him," said Relma.


    "Oh good," said Ajax in relief. "I was afraid something less pleasant happened. Well, on the brighter side, things should be easier when going through the Black Marsh. We''ve killed a great many satyrs today, and the others won''t be in a hurry to challenge us."


    "What were you doing all this time anyway?" asked Relma.


    "Well, after I headed on ahead, I started moving through the wilderness, trying to sort things out," said Ajax. "Lucius has been gathering support from the various satyr clans. They were trying to get them into his service.


    "Those we fought here were the first to rally to his banner. Several braves from every clan were sent for this. While they mobilized, I got in contact with Frederick and De Cathe. I led them by some of the secret ways in the Black Marshes.


    "By the time they arrived here, we were fast behind them."


    "But what did the satyrs want?" asked Relma.


    "All of them drank a poison supplied by Lucius before going into battle," said Ajax. "I saw their warlocks brewing it. Even if they hadn''t all died here, they would have died abroad."


    Relma stared at him. That didn''t make sense. "Why?"


    "They wanted to die, obviously," said Ajax.


    "Okay, but why did they want to die?" asked Relma.


    "It was a sacrifice to Lucius," said Ajax. "He''s their ultimate ancestor and so worthy of their total loyalty. He asked them to die, so they did. They just decided to do it while hurting their enemies."


    "That''s horrible," said Relma.


    Ajax shrugged. "It''s the way they live. They don''t care about survival as long as they spill blood in the name of their gods."


    "But why would Lucius order them to die?" asked Relma.


    "I don''t know. I''m not a sorcerer or a demonic archon," said Ajax. "If you want the exact reason, ask Pandora. I''m sure she has theories upon theories. All of them wrong."


    "You should tell Aunt Pan about this," said Relma. "This could be important."


    "Fine then, let''s go," said Ajax.


    Wait, she was going, too? She guessed it was important.


    "Hail Relma, Heir of Kings!" called someone.


    "I wish they''d stop doing that," said Relma.


    "So do I. I can hear it a mile away." snapped Ajax.


    Well, at least she wasn''t suffering alone. Now, all Relma had to do was end the suffering entirely.

 Chapter 295 - Twelve: Revelation

    To Relma''s surprise, Edmund De Cathe was there with Aunt Pan and Frederick, looking unhappy. He looked a bit pale and was sitting down with healers around him. But he was leaning on his sword as though resting upon it. His beard had been cut shorter since the last Relma had seen him, and his hair a bit longer. He nodded to her as she approached. "Lady Relma, it has been months. I am glad you and Estela both continue to advance."


    "Sir De Cathe," said Relma, bowing. "Thank you for your help."


    "I did what I could," said De Cathe somberly. "That will have to be enough."


    "Is Ronald well?" asked Frederick, removing a cloak with several tears. "I haven''t had a chance to check with him. I fear I''ll have to mend my cloak if his injury keeps him from duty."


    "I healed his injuries," said Relma. "He''ll be fine."


    "Good. The boy is invaluable to me," said Frederick.


    "Yes, yes, very nice," said Ajax impatiently. "Now, can we get to the point?"


    "Ajax, I believe you have some news for us?" asked Pandora.


    "I did," said Ajax. "While in the Black Marshes, I discovered some exciting things. I know all about the sacrifices these satyrs performed."


    "How did you learn that?" asked Relma.


    "I asked one of the chieftains," said Ajax. "Each village yielded a certain amount of young men to Lucius. In exchange, they were granted good harvests and luck in the hunt. Or something along those lines.


    "Meanwhile, the lifeforce of their bodies was sent away somewhere else."


    "Del Gabor," said De Cathe gravely.


    When he said that name, Relma shuddered. Aunt Pan looked at him seriously. "De Cathe? Why do you say that name?"


    "While we were with Lord Anton, we spoke with several Dust Elven traders," said De Cathe. "They said that Del Gabor had been occupied. Lights had been seen in the fortress for the first time in centuries."


    "I heard of this," said Frederick. "But you''re wrong. There have been brave travelers who camped within the fortress. I did it myself once, and I''m alive."


    "The dead walk again," said De Cathe. "Here and in the Dusk Lands. There must be a source, as there are with all magics of Withering. What better place?"


    Aunt Pan remained silent a moment. "...It may be that Lucius has taken up residence in Del Gabor once again. That castle is powerful, situated upon the ley lines of the spirit world. It could drain lifeforce from so far away.


    "But to what end?" asked Frederick. "To unleash demons."


    Aunt Pan shook her head. "No. Lucius shares the company of demons, but he does not use them in battle. He prefers to wield creatures of the world to achieve his ends.


    "Or perhaps of another world."


    "What do you mean?" asked Ajax.


    Aunt Pan paused for only a moment as if contemplating what to say. Then she spoke. "...Del Gabor was not always a domain of Withering. Long ago, the fortress belonged to the Dust Elven Empire of old, which preceded Calisha. The Dust Elves did not have the same numbers as the High Elves. But they compensated for this through a series of gates linked with the spirit world.


    "The art for making them is now lost. But one was situated in Del Gabor. They had much trade with the High Elves under King Anasar. The fortress itself survived a siege by Anoa but fell into disuse. It was abandoned when the Dust Elves retreated into Calisha to deal with Baltoth.


    "That was when Lucius took hold of it. Though he was driven out, it seems he has returned. Lucius may seek to use it for his own ends. He despises all elves, and it would please him to use their own devices to wipe them out."


    "Where would he open such a gate from?" asked De Cathe.


    "I do not know," admitted Aunt Pan. "The technique required two devices in different places. But Lucius is ancient indeed. He may have devised a means to do so with only one gate. Or perhaps he constructed another one.


    "Or, he may have found one that was not destroyed. Though I find that last one doubtful."


    "Why?" asked Relma, fascinated by all this.


    "The Dust Elves guarded the secret of their gates seriously," said Aunt Pan. "Their entire empire relied on it. The gate in Del Gabor was built to facilitate trade. Dust Elves would come out of it and trade all over Harlenor, then return another way. That was when Laevian was still friendly to Alchara and her high elves.


    "Baltoth knew the gates were the key to the Dust Elves'' power. So he went out of his way to destroy them all while killing those who knew the craft. He was all too successful, I''m afraid.


    "The Del Gabor gate likely survived because Baltoth had no regional power. Anoa II accepted the Dust Elven refugees hoping to learn their craft. But nothing came of that."


    "So what now?" asked De Cathe.


    "There is nothing for it," said Aunt Pan. "Whatever Lucius'' plans are, they are probably centered on Del Gabor. I''ll have to go there and disrupt them if I can. Or at least get an idea of what he is doing."


    "We''ll help you," said De Cathe. "I''ll have to go through the Dusk Lands anyway, so it''s on the way. And Lucius has already thrown down the gauntlet with us. I expect Princess Estela will agree to do so."


    "Well, then, we should go as soon as we are packed," said Aunt Pan. "Time is of the essence."


    "I may have a way we can speed through more quickly," said Ajax.


    Aunt Pan looked at him in surprise. "How?"


    "Well, I mentioned some secret way through the marshes," said Ajax. "The ones I took Frederick and De Cathe through? It was through the Road of Ancient Stone."


    "What?" said Aunt Pan.


    "I''ve traveled many paths," said Ajax. "And our broods have learned to use it to move quickly when the time comes. That''s why nobody noticed Anya''s brood moving to the Wolven Forest.


    "If we take the Road, I should be able to get us within sight of Del Gabor in a day."


    "A dangerous suggestion. Ajax," said Aunt Pan, "Frederick, what are your views on this?"


    "The road was filled with peril, and we lost some men," said Frederick. "But it got us through very quickly. I believe Ajax can do it."


    "Indeed," said De Cathe. "He did not lead us astray before."


    Aunt Pan sighed. "Then, I will trust him in this."


    Then, there was a knock on the door, and someone entered. Pandora looked up. "What is it?"


    "Your pardon, Lady Pandora, but the healers require your aid," said a man.


    "What is the trouble?" asked Pandora.


    "We''ve found that some of those touched by the dead are fading." said the man. "We can''t seem to break the spell."


    "Then, I will tend to them immediately. Excuse me," said Aunt Pan.


    "I''ll go with you," said Relma.


    Relma hurried out after Aunt Pan, trying to keep up with her fast steps. Finally getting up beside her, she looked up. "Do you think they''ll be alright, Aunt Pan?"


    "I don''t know," admitted Aunt Pan. "I will try to save them. But Lucius may have set his will too strong on them. De Cathe only received a small amount, and he is stronger of will than many."


    They moved to find the sick and found them resting. Their faces were all pale, and they were shuddering. Some were coughing up blood even as the healers worked. Pandora quickly set to work, channeling magic into them as best she could. Relma was assigned secondary jobs, getting water for them and easing their pain.


    Aunt Pan''s method of healing was different from Relma''s. She focused on rallying the power of the person to heal themselves. Relma, meanwhile, was pouring divine energy directly into them. Hours passed as they worked, and all of those Aunt Pan worked on got some color back in them. But they still looked terrible.


    "I''ve done all I can," said Aunt Pan. "I have slowed their descent. But the curse is very strong on them. Some may survive, but I''m afraid it will only be the strong ones."


    "Isn''t there anything we can do?" asked Relma, wanting to help them. S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "If we destroy the power of Del Gabor again, Lucius will probably have to draw back his will," said Aunt Pan. "That may be far more difficult than any of us can achieve."


    Then Relma came up with an idea, remembering an old friend. Or an enemy. Sort of both. "What about Wrynncurth?"


    Aunt Pan looked up in surprise. "Hmm?"


    "Well, I mean, Adrian Wrynncurth is friends with Telix, isn''t he?" asked Relma. "So why don''t we message him and ask him for help?"


    Pan nodded. "It may be worth considering.


    "Still, Black Dragons do not like going far from their hoards. Their spirits are bound to them. The Dusk Lands is a very long way away. I doubt Wrynncurth will risk it. Especially since I suspect, he may have had dealings with Lucius in the past."


    "We should at least try," said Relma. "He might be able to do something to help. He is a powerful sorcerer, after all."


    "That I suppose he is," said Pandora.


    Relma was silent, feeling the weight of today on her now more than ever. The sun was setting now. "Aunt Pan, if nothing else, I''d like to see Ronald."


    "Very well then, go to him," said Aunt Pan. "I''m sorry to keep you away from your friend."


    Then, there was a surging of will. Relma did not know why, but someone was dragged into the room on a stretcher. It was Ronald, and he was as pale as all the rest. Aunt Pan moved to him, trying to set to work. Relma went by his side.


    "Ronald, are you alright?" Relma asked, knowing the answer. His eyes were dark. How had this happened? He''d been fine the last time they talked.


    "Hello, Relma," said Ronald, voice holding false cheer. "Did you see me on the battlefield?"


    "No, I missed it," said Relma. Had he forgotten they''d seen each other earlier. "But they told me you were very brave."


    "Good. I''m glad I..." He fell backward.


    "Ronald?!" said Relma. "Aunt Pan, what happened?"


    "Lucius has set his will on him very hard," said Aunt Pan. "The curse he was under wasn''t as strong, but the will of Lucius is enhancing it."


    "I''m sorry, I''m just feeling cold," said Ronald. "Very cold...."


    Lucius was targeting Ronald directly now? Why? Was it just to get at her? What had she done to him? "You''ve been cursed. But don''t worry. I''m going to fix this." said Relma. "I''ll fix it even if I have to knock every stone in Del Gabor to pieces."


    "I know you will," said Ronald, oddly calm.


    Relma blinked. "Really?"


    "Relma, I''ve known you since we were children," said Ronald. "When you say you will do something, you do it." Then he fell still.


    "He was fine just a moment ago," said Relma.


    "I know," said Aunt Pan before looking up. "You, girl, find everyone who was touched by the dead. Bring them to the healers whether they want it or not. They may relapse."


    Relma felt sick. "Aunt Pan..."


    "Yes?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "Do you think there will be another Age of Withering?" asked Relma. She remembered the old stories that were told of the last one. It was a time when the dead rose from their graves. They wandered the world, and those touched by them were beset by sickness.


    It had been an endless war. And no one ever said how it had ended.


    "I don''t know. I hope not," said Aunt Pan. "The Dusklands have been barren for ages because of the war fought there. The ground itself is infused with unholy energies. That makes it an ideal place to practice necromancy."


    "But why would Lucius be after me?" asked Relma. "Why would he target Ronald?"


    "Perhaps as a hostage," said Aunt Pan. "Or perhaps to kill you and prevent the prophecy from coming true.


    "Either one would please Lucius."


    "This is really serious, isn''t it?" asked Relma. "This... this could threaten all of Harlenor, couldn''t it?"


    "Perhaps the world," said Aunt Pan.


    Relma was silent. "Aunt Pan, what was the Age of Withering like? I''ve heard about it. And I''ve heard about places that were once strongholds of the Withering. I''ve read mentions of it. But none of the stories ever go into detail."


    Pandora sighed. "...Listen, Relma, there were many gods at the beginning of this universe, but there was only one demon. A being of incredible power and malice. For a long time, he was helpless to influence creation. But when Lucius did what he did, he allowed this demon to enter the world.


    "The demon''s name was Diabolus.


    "All seven demonic archons came from him. And from all of them came all the demons of hell. Baltoth, Fortenex, Zigildrazia, Amysta, Coinfurth, Typhos, and Lucius."


    "But Lucius existed before, didn''t he?" asked Relma.


    "He did," said Aunt Pan. "The other demonic archons were born. Lucius was transformed. But he was ultimately human, capable of good and evil. While the sin he was infused with was pure envy, there was a... divide in his being.


    "On the one hand, there is Lucius. Lucius the Eternal. He walked among the dead and dying places of the world. Very courteous, very restrained. Capable of kindness as well as cruelty. And yet there is also the Withering.


    "It is a manifestation of entropy itself. It corrupts things that exist in mockeries of their true nature. And those mockeries seek to tear down that from which they have their source. Vampires, wraiths, zombies, and all other undead were formed from the Withering.


    "And it is all around us.


    "The other demonic archons have no stake in the world, Relma. They exist in hell and can only enter when a mortal allows them entrance. Baltoth got around this by becoming the God of Order. But he took on the positive aspects of that pantheon when he ascended.


    "But Lucius...


    "Lucius was born of this world, of every world. He cannot be banished. He cannot be killed.


    "And I don''t know what he wants.


    "That''s what scares me, Relma. The other archons have a rhyme, reason, and objectives they want to achieve. Things they will and won''t do, but Lucius doesn''t have any of that. He just does things as they occur to him."


    "It''ll be fine, Aunt Pan. We''ll win," said Relma, not feeling as confident as she''d like.


    "I hope we will, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "For your sake."


    Relma had a bad feeling about this. But she wasn''t about to let that determine her destiny.

 Chapter 296 - Thirteen: The Demonic Archons

    The morning after, the victory celebrations were completed rapidly. Relma didn''t have time to join the festivities or funerals. She observed the burning of the dead but didn''t participate in the mass drinking during the wake. The corpses of the satyrs and dead were burned in a pile, while the dead of Harlenor were given to their families. Others were burned in Haldrenian fashion, burned on pyres.


    The men were assembled from House Gabriel and House De Chevlon. Fayn was with them as well. As Relma approached Estela, however, the greeting was somewhat cold. Relma could tell by Estela''s expression that she was not happy. "Well, Relma, how nice of you to tell me about all the secret meetings you attended on my mission."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "You met with De Cathe, Pandora, Ajax, and Frederick," said Estela. "In that meeting, you decided things about the mission. They designed an entire strategy, and I wasn''t there."


    "I was there, Estela," said Relma, slightly nervous. "But I was just there following Ajax. He got the summons and asked me to come with him.


    "I didn''t even say anything at the meeting aside from asking questions."


    "Then what is this about calling Wrynncurth in?" asked Estela.


    "I suggested it to Aunt Pan, is all," said Relma. "But that wasn''t in the meeting, and she made her own decisions."


    "Why wasn''t I invited?" asked Estela, sounding offended. "I should have been consulted. It is my quest."


    Relma could see her point. Estela had always been sensitive about rank and the proper dignity of her family. But there wasn''t nothing Relma could say to her other than what she had already said. Fortunately, Aunt Pan arrived. She walked in quickly, clad for travel in practical clothes. "Yes, you should have."


    "Lady Pandora," said Estela.


    "I would like to apologize, Princess Estela," said Pandora. "The truth is that everyone was incredibly shaken by what happened. A person in my position has the unique privilege of meeting with various lords. I should speak to them about the coming of Lucius.


    "I was considering only the matter of Lucius, however. It did not occur to me that as this was your quest, to begin with, you ought to be consulted."


    Estela seemed mollified by what happened. "...Very well. Let''s just put the matter behind us." So they gathered at the gate and prepared for the marshes. Ajax was there soon, Anya having returned in the night. Sir Frederick came to see them off. "Are you sure you don''t want to take a larger force than this, Lady Pandora?" he asked.


    "I am certain, Sir Frederick," said Aunt Pan. "Lucius'' stronghold will not be defended by flesh and blood. And if we fail, you will be needed here to defend this place."


    "I understand," said Frederick.


    And they were off.


    Relma soon realized that she had also been cut out of the loop. Estela had apparently made general plans for the journey with Ajax. De Cathe had been there as the general outline of their road was decided.


    "So Ajax, where is this path you mean to take us by?" asked Fayn.


    "It''s a little way into the Black Marshes," said Ajax. "On a little-traveled part of the land." Relma soon learned why it was little traveled when they entered. Flies buzzed around them in a neverending tide. The water was murky, and Ajax led them on a zigzagging road. Varsus had arranged for men with long poles to check ahead of them so no one plunged in. Relma wished she''d had one before; it might have stopped her from taking several falls.


    "Ugh, these flies are everywhere," said Estela. "How do you bear this place?"


    "It is a marsh," said Ajax. "And Anya bears it because it allows us to contact with the satyr chieftains. There are some drier regions, and that''s where everyone lived. This part of the marsh was flooded a long time ago, though. Father needs this territory. In time, he hopes to subjugate the satyrs and bring them into the fold."


    "Not much to bring," muttered Fayn.


    "Actually, I think their way of life is much easier to understand than humans," said Ajax. "They kill people they don''t like, devour what they can, and destroy what they can''t use.


    "It''s a bit wasteful but far closer to nature than those castles you make."


    "And that''s why they are in the marshes, and we humans are building a civilization," said Estela.


    "Being close to nature means your species hasn''t grown up."


    "Do not belittle nature, Princess Estela," said Aunt Pan. "It became cruel because we mortals taught it cruelty. Once, it was harmony."


    Ajax laughed hysterically, and Aunt Pan turned to glare at him. "Something funny, Ajax?"


    "Your belief system," said Ajax. "Nature isn''t a harmony where all things stand in perfect equilibrium. Nature is hell on earth. It is billions of species scratching and tearing to ensure their own survival. The strong thrive, and the weak are but food.


    "We accept this fact and know that it is as it should be.


    "You mortals are the ones'' who gave plants and animals names. You put out a neat little chart and said, ''This is how things are.'' Or, alternatively, ''this is how things should be''. The universe is eternal chaos, and only the individual''s will may define it."


    "The will of the individual is why nature became cruel," said Aunt Pan. "Mortals chose to separate their will from the path of good. In so doing, they set a chain of events that led to things falling away from the right road.


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    "What you call the natural state of things in a fallen world. Devoid of the glory it once possessed."


    "Spare me." scoffed Fayn. "There is no glory save through triumph. No victory except through the defeat of your enemies. Without the weak, how would one measure the strong? Hardship and struggle are how virtue is attained. Without it, we are nothing."


    "Maybe there has to be a balance between good and evil," suggested Reginald. "If one grows too strong, the world suffers."


    Everyone stared at him.


    "What?" said Reginald.


    "That''s got to be the stupidest thing I''ve ever heard, Reginald," said Fayn.


    "What''s so wrong about it?" asked Reginald.


    "First of all, evil is not a natural state of being that provides some essential service," said Aunt Pan. "If it did provide something humans needed, it would be good. Evil is corruption, taking something great and wonderful and twisting it. Usually into something that only harms."


    "Then why are demons so successful?" asked Reginald.


    "Diabolus, the Demon King, never accomplished anything alone," said Aunt Pan. "To do harm, he had to corrupt Lucius. From there, he created the Seven Demonic Archons. But the Demonic Archons are dangerous for their virtues, not their vices. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Zigildrazia possessed the ability to forge new and beautiful things. She used it to create devices of torment. Baltoth is a master strategist who can inspire others to do great deeds, and he made Calisha. Fortenex is courageous and cunning. Typhos holds excellent loyalty to her children. Lucius is a highly talented schemer without whom much evil would have never happened. Coinfurth''s talent for managing finances allowed him to create one of the richest nations.


    "And Amysta... well..."


    "Yes?" said Relma. "What about Amysta?"


    "I can''t actually think of any virtues Amysta had, but I''m sure she must have had some," said Aunt Pan. "And she was the first of them to fall, so in a way, it helps my point.


    "Evil creatures that triumph do so because of the good aspects of their natures. They are merely turned to a vile purpose. It is a parasite, and destroying it would be better for everyone without downsides."


    "I have studied some of the tales of Amysta," said Varsus, breaking his silence. "She was very creative in a great many horrible things."


    "The point is that the Demonic Archons are dangerous because of their good aspects," said Aunt Pan, "Not the bad. A being wholly consumed in sin would be a fat, lazy hedonist. One who spent all his time looking in mirrors and making plans for revenge for apparent slights. Plans that would never go through because they would need to be more active and competent to achieve them.


    "Diabolus only became a threat when Lucius joined him."


    "Quiet; I need to focus on this next part," said Ajax, striding ahead.


    They had come to a part of the marsh where the water had a strange, purplish color. The plants here were misshapen with many vines. There were beautiful flowers on the water, of yellow color. But as they floated, a strange vapor seemed to rise from them.


    "What is this place, Ajax?" asked Relma, feeling uneasy.


    "The Black Heart," said Ajax. "It''s where most of my poisons come from. No one can navigate it except for me. And perhaps my wolves. Anya never comes here."


    "Why are wolves the only ones who can go through here, Ajax?" asked Estela.


    "There are a lot of dangers here that you can''t see with your eyes," said Ajax. "I can smell them, though." He sniffed a bit. "Follow me."


    And so they began again. As they walked, the water got deeper and the heat worse. Ajax led them on a winding path, changing routes often. The flies disappeared, but Relma wasn''t sure that was a good thing. Though it certainly felt like one.


    "Why are we taking such a route?" asked Varsus, who had hardly spoken on the journey except to give orders.


    "Within this place is where the entrance to the Road lies," said Ajax. "Lucius hid it well. Now come, follow in my footsteps. And don''t turn away to either side. If you fall in, you may never get out."


    So they formed up into a single file line and marched. Soon, the water was up to their waists, and the heat was unbearable. They went, drinking from their waterskins and wiping sweat from their brows. Then Ajax halted suddenly and raised a hand. "Stop."


    "What is it?" asked Varsus.


    "Back up," said Ajax.


    "What do you-" began Varsus.


    "Back up now!" said Ajax.


    They backed up frantically, and several people almost fell in. They hadn''t gotten far before the water where they''d been exploded upward in a geyser. Clouds of green rose into the air as Ajax looked on.


    "What was that?" asked Relma.


    "A gas released from certain parts of the bog," said Ajax. "It is very poisonous. Come, we''d best take another way."


    After that narrow escape, everyone was a bit jumpy. But they had no more adventures, and soon, the ground became firmer. Eventually, they started to walk on little islands of grass. Though they would still end up plunging back in, Relma found this far preferable. It even became less blistering.


    "Once we get to the Road, we''ll have to journey underground for a bit," said Ajax. "I should be able to bring us up within sight of Del Gabor.''


    And then Relma saw something. It was a statue showing a man but with the head of a vulture. The wings of an eagle were above his hands, and a long spiked tail came from him. Pillars were on either side and looking at them fascinated and terrified her.


    "What is that?" asked Estela.


    "Don''t look at it," said Ajax quickly. "Keep your eyes focused on the ground in front of you.''


    "But what is it?" asked Estela.


    "A shrine," said Ajax as they walked. "A shrine to Melchious. The satyrs have worshipped him for victory in war since the fall of the elven homelands. This region used to be all plains. That was before the disaster in the Dusk Lands sent all the water south. Here and there, you can find remnants of the old cities.


    "Don''t make eye contact. Some say that he can see through the eyes of the statues."


    "It''s familiar, somehow," realized Relma. "I feel like I''ve met him before.''


    "If you had, you''d know, dear," said Aunt Pan.


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma, not feeling any different. She did know it.


    "Melchious is not pleasant company," said Aunt Pan.


    Estela had seen Melchious during the wars in Khasmir, hadn''t she? "Estela, does that look anything like he did when you saw him?" asked Relma.


    Estela shook her head, putting her hand on her sword. "It doesn''t. But Melchious takes many forms."


    And then they came to the cave. The mouth was low so they had to bend down to get in, but it seemed to get taller further in as it sloped down. Ajax drew out some rope and passed it to Varsus. "Here we are.


    "I want all of you to tie part of the rope around yourselves. We''ll walk through together." "Is this necessary?" asked Estela, taking it.


    "Yes. If we don''t-" began Ajax.


    Then arrows surged out of the air and landed among them. Relma saw dozens of satyrs scaling up the bank toward them. Everyone drew their swords as arrows bounced off their armor, and the satyrs neared.


    "Blood for the Unborn God! Carnage for Melchious! Victory for Lucius!" cried a satyr in their own language.


    "Raise your shields!" called Varsus. "Defend!"


    Their shields were locked as the satyrs came up after them. Relma took her own place, raising her shield and holding her sword. She hoped she wouldn''t have to kill anyone. Reginald was next to her, and Estela was on the other side.


    The satyrs hit the shield wall, and Relma warded off a satyr strike from above. The force of the blow against her shield made her arm go numb. Another threw her off her feet, but Estela closed the gap as she fell. Reginald ran the satyr through, parried another thrust, and cut another down.


    "For House De Chevlon!"


    "For the Golden Serpent!"


    "For House Vortegex!"


    More satyrs pressed up against them as Relma rose up. She decided she''d stay behind the line and heal anyone hurt. The satyrs'' assault was held at bay, and several had been killed already. But arrows were lancing from the trees above.


    One of them caught a man in the chink between the armor, and he fell backward. Relma ran to his side, but Aunt Pan was there first. Another man was stricken across the head. He fell backward, and this one Relma got to before, channeling the power of Elranor into healing him. Bodies were piling up, and they weren''t rising from the dead.


    Then Ajax appeared among the archers in the trees. He snapped one of their necks, tore out two throats, and sent the fourth falling to his death. The others broke and fled, and the satyr advance seemed to lose interest. At last, they broke and ran off.


    No one had been killed, though Relma had had to heal several serious injuries.


    "How could they be waiting for us here?" asked Fayn, whose axe was notched. "I thought you said no one else knew the way."


    "No one else does know the way," said Ajax. "But we''re not in the Black Heart anymore. Lucius could have had them go through one of the other entrances and come out here to wait."


    "We should go on through regardless," said Varsus.


    "Varsus, what are you saying?" asked Reginald. "We could be facing an entire army in there."


    "Time is running out," said Varsus. "I can feel it. If we fail in our mission, there could be a full-scale war. We have to get to Del Gabor soon."


    "Varsus is right," said Pandora. "We are past the point of finding alternatives."


    "Fine then," said Ajax. "Get the rope."


    What did they need a rope for?

 Chapter 297 - Fourteen: The Ancestor

    Into the cave they went and down into the cold earth. The sun''s light soon faded behind them and was replaced by a sphere of light. Varsus and several of his men were trained to wield the sun spirit, and orbs of light appeared in their hands. They illuminated the passages ahead of them and allowed them to move on. Even so, it was bitterly chilly, and Relma didn''t like it at all.


    "Why are there so many in your group with a connection to the Sun Spirit?" asked Estela. As she walked, she adjusted her cloak.


    "It is a useful trait to have in war," said Varsus. "So I give higher wages to anyone who can wield them. William has always had a head for that kind of thing."


    "All of you stay close to the lights," said Ajax, at the head of the group, voice a light growl. "And don''t look too deeply into the darkness. The Road of Ancient Stone is connected to the world of turmoil and hells. Passages change and shift.


    "Keep on as you go." Something moved in the dark, and Relma looked after it. Then she remembered Ajax''s warning and looked away. She wished she weren''t so curious.


    "We may be followed," said Aunt Pan, falling to the back, her staff tapping little echoes against the floor. "Give me a moment; then, we''ll continue." As the last of their company passed them, Aunt Pan raised a hand and channeled something. The passageway behind them shuddered and blurred, and there was a grinding noise. A moment later, all light from the sun was gone. They were now in utter darkness, save for the spheres created by the power of the sun spirit.


    Aunt Pan turned back to them, her face a bit white.


    "Aunt Pan, what did you do?" asked Relma.


    "I shifted the passages around a little," said Aunt Pan. As she spoke, she shuddered and nearly dropped her staff. "We should not have to concern ourselves with them." They walked back to the front, where everyone had halted.


    "You shifted the passages?" asked Ajax, sounding impressed, having. "I''ve never been able to manage that."


    "You have," said Aunt Pan, leaning against a wall. "Walking through the Road of Ancient Stone is as much a spiritual journey as a physical one. You''ve probably been carving your own path unintentionally. You just did it so long that a routine was created, and you made the same path by reflex."


    "I found my way through the first time just fine," said Ajax. Then he led them on.


    For a while, they walked in the dark. None of them talked; it didn''t seem the kind of place where talking was wise. Varsus made sure no one fell behind as Ajax led them on. Eventually, they came to a crossroads, and he kneeled to touch the ground. He sniffed.


    "What is it?" asked Relma.


    "A large contingent of satyrs passed through here," said Ajax. "The stink of them is still here. No one I know, though. These are of a different kind."


    "Ajax, you know the satyrs, don''t you?" said Relma.


    "Yes," said Ajax. "Why?"


    "That army we killed was huge, and we''ve killed more of them outside," said Relma. "And now there are more roaming these halls. How can there be so many?"


    "Satyrs have a short lifecycle," said Ajax. "They are physically mature at the age of ten and most rarely see fifty. Satyr women are expected to have as many children as possible. And those who are barren become priestesses of their gods and perform sacrifices.


    "They don''t have marriages or mates. Children are conceived in ritual orgies."


    "How did you learn all this?" asked Estela. "I mean, do you know satyrs?"


    "I''ve known the clans in this area for years," said Ajax, continuing his march. "But that''s all the moot point. I''ve never smelled any satyr clan like this. Most of them use distinctive forms of makeup that I can tell them by.


    "Not these."


    "This is absurd," said Reginald suddenly.


    "What is?" asked Relma.


    "Why has Gel Carn let these animals grow up repeatedly?" asked Reginald. His hand was on his sword, and he looked furious.


    "What would you do, Reginald?" asked Varsus.


    "Invade the Black Marshes and purge them all," said Reginald. "Wipe them out and take the land for humanity. Our forefathers did that in Antion, Escor, and Haldren."


    "That is all easy to say, but I expect it would be far more difficult than that, Reginald," said Varsus. Reaching out, he grabbed Reginald''s hand and drew it away. "Besides, the land is a disease-ridden cesspit."


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    "Permanent solutions are better than stop-gap measures," said Reginald. "And the marshes could be filled in."


    "The satyrs came to the Black Marshes after the death of Anoa IX," said Aunt Pan. "In those days, Gel Carn was in absolute chaos. While Harlenor was tearing itself apart, the satyrs grew in number.


    "Gel Carn is not as strong as you think, Reginald. It is still recovering from the devastation of endless war. And the Demon Lord Adrianeth is a threat to the south.


    "And genocide is never something to be sought."


    "I think I like the idea," muttered Fayn, which was pretty typical for her.


    "Fayn?" asked Relma, feeling horrified more out of habit than surprise.


    "We could get the armies of Antion down here and move in," said Fayn. "Ajax and his wolves could act as our guide, and we could root them out once and for all."


    "I wouldn''t help you, even if I thought it would work. No offense," said Ajax.


    "They''re just animals," scoffed Fayn.


    "So are you," noted Ajax.


    "I wouldn''t support it either," said Estela. "It wouldn''t be right to kill children."


    "What do you think happens in war?" asked Reginald. "Every time a village gets burned down, children die. Plenty more get separated from their parents and sold into slavery."


    "Just because it happens doesn''t make it right," said Estela. Relma wondered if she''d say the same thing about her hated enemies in Escor. People weren''t always consistent, after all.


    "Quiet, all of you, we''re coming to a place where the passages intersect," said Ajax. "And I smell many other passages. Varsus order the men to hold up.


    "Only a few of us should go ahead."


    "Hold," said Varsus to his men. Then he dimmed his sphere. "Who would you recommend?"


    "I''ll go ahead of the group myself," said Ajax, rolling his shoulders as if working out a kink. "Pandora, come with me."


    "When did he start giving the orders?" muttered Reginald.


    "He does know the terrain," said Varsus.


    Relma suddenly had an impulse. A sense that she had to do something very important here. So she stepped forward. "I''m going with you."


    "Fine, come on," said Ajax.


    "No, you will not," said Aunt Pan. "I sense... something. A terrible presence."


    "Please, Aunt Pan," said Relma. "I feel I have to see this."


    Aunt Pan met her gaze and held it for a moment. At last, she sighed. "...Very well."


    So, the three of them crept forward through the passages. Aunt Pan used a more subtle light to illuminate their path this time so they could barely see outlines. Soon enough, they found other passages, joined this one, and found broken shoes and bits of leather. At last, they came into a vast open chamber, and before them, down a slope, was a vast army of satyrs. They stretched out on and on, and Relma was stunned. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Ajax pulled her down beneath some stones, and they looked out over the silent army. They stood deathly still, so Relma wondered if they were statues. And yet more were marching from other passages. They were shorter than those Relma had fought and thicker of the body with paler skin. Their beards were cut short and were neater. They wielded spears to the man and had huge shields.


    "I''ve never seen so many satyrs in one place," said Relma, feeling a sense of awe. She''d never seen this many people of any kind in one place. "How did such numbers gather?"


    "I remember that some small clans went into the mountains some years ago. They said they were obeying the will of Lucius in some pilgrimage," said Ajax, sniffing the air. "I led them a way in but parted ways once we crossed into Smyngoth''s Mountain. I won''t go in there, but they did.


    "I''d always figured they''d died off."


    "How long ago was this?" asked Relma.


    "Seventy years, I think," said Ajax.


    "They are different from most satyrs," said Aunt Pan. "They are shorter and broader of body. Like dwarves." Her tone was concerned, and she seemed to be afraid of something.


    "Not nearly so small," noted Ajax. "They walk with a stoop instead."


    And then, something appeared atop a great stone at the far end of the cavern. It was hard to describe. It was like a void with a cloak wrapped around it. Nothing could be seen beneath the hood, but not in the sense that nothing was there. It was Nothing in a very final sense.


    "What is that?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan had gone white. "Lucius."


    The cloaked nothingness raised a single-robed hand, and a gauntlet emerged. As he did, the satyrs broke into howls and cheers. Their spears were raised in a deafening noise.


    "My children!" called Lucius. "You have given your lives in the name of the unborn god! You have sent your children into the fire in the name of Melchious! You have slashed and killed in the name of the Withering!


    "For generations, you have bred within the underworld, preparing for the day of return!


    "Now we stand upon the threshold of a great opportunity! The last domain of the Dust Elves in the west now lies above us! They know nothing of our coming, and we will give them no time to know!


    "Go now! Rise above the ground! Bring forth the wrath of Lucius upon the Dusk Lands!"


    "Blood for the unborn god!" called someone, perhaps a leader. "Blood for Zigildrazia! Blood for Melchious! BLOOD FOR THE ANCESTOR!"


    "BLOOD FOR THE ANCESTOR!!" screamed the satyrs.


    "We''ve got to get back to Varsus," said Aunt Pan. "This army cannot be allowed to reach the Dusk Lands."


    "How could we stop it?" asked Ajax. "We''ll have to go through here. They''ll just set a rearguard and keep us back while they head on through." So, even if they fought them, they might not succeed. And it would be a death sentence.


    And this was it ¡ª the critical moment. Relma felt she was about to do something incredibly stupid, but it was the only way to draw off the army. And she knew that her chance to act would be gone if she did not act now.


    "Ajax, go back ahead to Varsus. Now," said Relma.


    "Why-"began Ajax.


    And then Relma stood up and raised Lightning Trail into the air. It flared to brilliant light to engulf the entire chamber, so the satyrs drew back. Relma took this to be a mark of approval. Lucius, however, stood still, looking on what might have been bemusement. "Hear me Lucius, I am the Heir of Kings, and I set my will against you!"


    Dead silence. If this worked, they''d all charge after Relma. These passages were all chokepoints, so Varsus would be able to stalemate them. And Fayn''s abilities would be that much more effective. If they dragged the battle out long enough, the satyrs would probably lose cohesion. At the very least, they could beat a fighting retreat and delay the invasion.


    Lucius raised a hand, and the light of Lightning Trail lessened as Relma felt a terrible chill. The satyr''s eyes seemed to glow as they advanced. Then Lucius motioned, and all light from the sword was quenched. Only the light of Aunt Pan''s sphere remained. "...Send a contingent after them. The rest of you carry on with the march."


    There was howling, and part of the force broke off to charge at them. Relma, Ajax, and Aunt Pan made a run for it.


    "Relma, you idiot!" said Ajax.


    Relma was not sure what she had accomplished. But she hoped it would work out for the best.

 Chapter 298 - Fifteen: Holding the Line

    "Blood for the Unborn God! Blood for the Ancestor!" went the calls behind them.


    The three of them sprinted through the darkness, followed by the howls and gnashing of teeth. The stone beneath their feet was rough. Relma stumbled over a loose stone as she ran, only for Aunt Pan to steady her and shove her onward. Ajax slid to a halt in a particularly narrow part of the tunnels as they did. Halting here, he howled at the satyrs, who paused before him with blades raised and returning the howl. It was a savage sight, and Relma wondered who was the more formidable. Ajax looked terrifying, more like a wolf than ever. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "This area is narrow," said Aunt Pan. "Relma, go get Varsus; tell him to bring his forces down here. We''ll hold the breach here."


    "Are you sure-" began Relma.


    "Just go, now!" said Aunt Pan.


    Relma sprinted off, hoping neither of them was killed for her plan. She''d had to divert that army somehow and felt that showing herself to Lucius was important. Something had been achieved there; she just had to find it after she found Varsus.


    "Come on, you bastards! Face me!" roared Ajax behind her, and fighting could be heard.


    "Varsus! Varsus!" called Relma, sprinting through the halls.


    Eventually, she rounded a corner and came headlong into Varsus and his forces. They had been marching toward her. Estela was nearby, and their swords were drawn. "What is it, Relma?"


    "The satyrs are attacking Estela and Ajax!" said Relma. "They''re fighting to try and keep them at bay."


    "Quickly, men, we''ll go to their aid," said Varsus. "Reginald, De Cathe, keep your men here as a rear guard. Watch that passage; we must not be flanked.


    "The rest of you come with me."


    They hurried forward toward the sound of fighting. Soon, they rounded the corner. They saw Ajax standing before a swarm of satyrs, hacking viciously. His body was covered in wounds, and blood covered him as he hacked at the enemy. A blade cut into his shoulder, and he fell back before Estela stepped over him and brought down her sword. A satyr fell dead as Fayn came beside her, slashing with her axe to cleave a skull.


    Then Varsus surged forward. His blade flashed as he struck the satyr on Ajax. His head fell from his shoulders. Shields were locked as the satyrs moved forward, and the battle was joined. Relma ran to Ajax and kneeled by him, touching him and beginning to heal the injuries. None of the wounds were severe, but this was her fault.


    Why had she had to do that?


    Because she''d known it was the only way. Why? Why did she think that?


    "Form up, ready your spears," called Varsus, directing his men. "Relma, stay behind the line and heal any who are injured. Fayn, retreat!"


    Fayn did retreat, looking furious as she was replaced. "Why am I being replaced?!"


    "I need you to summon flames and cover our retreat," said Varsus.


    "Yes, sir." scoffed Fayn.


    And so it began. The satyrs washed against their position, slamming against armored defenses. Screams of wrath and pain resounded, and Relma healed. She finished her work on Ajax and moved on. Whenever men began to tire or were wounded, they were drawn back and replaced. Varsus'' defense was holding them at bay, and the wounded and dead from the satyrs began to pile up.


    "Well, this is a fine mess; you''ve gotten us into Relma," said Fayn, looking annoyed. "How did you manage to alert an entire army?"


    "I told them I was here, and Lucius sent them after me," said Relma.


    "What?" said Fayn. "Why would you-"


    "They were going to invade the Dusk Lands," said Relma. "I thought I could divert their attention."


    "Well, you did that, at least," said Fayn.


    "Actually, this is only a small part of their army," said Relma.


    "Every bit helps," said Varsus, walking forward. "I doubt that Lucius knows exactly how large a force we have. If he underestimates us, he''ll send too few forces to their death. If he overestimates us, we can hold off much of his army from the main battle." Estela limped back from the battle line and kneeled down. One of her hands was bloodied, and Relma grasped it. "Hold on; I''ll heal you, Estela."


    "Thank you," said Estela. "Lady Pandora, how large was the force you saw gathering?"


    "Larger than the one that attacked Castle Culhorn," said Aunt Pan, opening her eyes. "Much larger."


    "We are entirely outmatched in numbers and weapons," said Varsus. "Well, there is only one thing to do. Ajax, I have something I need you to do."


    "What is it?" asked Ajax. "I''ve just had to fight a large part of the satyrs alone in cramped quarters."


    "Are there any other passages that could lead this way?" asked Varsus.


    "There are passages that lead all over," said Ajax. "I know this area like the back of my hand."


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    "Could you find the main enemy''s strength," asked Varsus.


    "Yes, why?" asked Ajax.


    "Good," said Varsus. "Go to Reginald and tell him I''ve ordered him and his men to find the main satyr army and engage it."


    Pandora stared. "You''re joking."


    "Attack them, break up their formation, draw their attention, and then pull back," said Varsus.


    "Fight, retreat, then fight again. Draw them back here if you must, but keep the way we came open."


    "Why?" asked Ajax.


    "We are wholly outmatched in numbers and weapons," said Varsus. "But the illusion of power may be as good as power itself. If Lucius believes we are stronger than we actually are, he may put aside a large part of his forces to deal with us.


    "That will weaken his thrust into the Dusk Lands. Pandora, can you use sorcery to aid us?"


    "I am," said Pandora. "Lucius'' will is set against us. I am holding it at bay. It is more than a little difficult."


    "Which means we all die," said Fayn.


    "No, it means we cause him problems and withdraw," said Varsus.


    "Fine," said Ajax. "But, this is insane."


    "Shouldn''t we try to warn them?" asked Relma.


    "I have the means to do just that," said Varsus, drawing out a ring from his pack and donning it on one armored hand. "House Gabriel has been friends with the Dust Elves for years. Ever since my uncle Vanion adventured alongside Raynald De Chevlon and Princess Rusara. He was given a ring by Rusara, which may be used to communicate with her people in times of great peril.


    "When I was dispatched here, Duke Vanion gave it to me. Estela, take command while I commune with the Dust Elves."


    And then he kneeled down and began to focus. His eyes closed, and he was silent. Estela looked to where the satyrs were, leaving more and more corpses across the ground. Then, gradually, the bodies began to rise with weapons in hand. Several men were injured, and Relma had to work at them. The line began to falter, but Estela and Fayn rushed forward.


    "For House Vortegex! For Escor!" called Estela.


    They plugged the gap, and Relma began to work with the injured men. As she did, she began to find herself at her limit. She was better at healing than she''d been before. But she found herself hardly able to do it. Wound after wound came before her. Relma could not fix them all without constant concentration. And more were coming at every moment.


    "Come on, Elranor, help me damn it," muttered Relma. "How does William do this?"


    "Well, he probably cares about the person he''s healing," said Aunt Pan quickly. "Magic is all about mindset."


    Relma looked at the soldier she was healing. He was a person, not a guard, with hopes, dreams, and goals. She had put him in danger, and now she was failing him. No, she had to succeed.


    Relma found she had the strength to do this. His injuries healed, and she moved on to the next one. The man was pulled up and went back into the fray. Now, she could do this; she could keep the army going. But the satyrs kept on pushing, their corpses pressing on. And no matter how many they killed, they always had more.


    Their losses meant nothing. Didn''t they want to survive? What could drive this?


    "Any time we kill these things, they rise as undead!" snapped Fayn, drawing back. She was nursing a nasty cut across the face. "This is insane!" Relma put her hand on Fayn''s forehead.


    "I only pray that Reginald is doing better than we are," said Aunt Pan.


    Then Varsus arose. "He is doing more than better. I assure you of that."


    "Varsus, how long can we hold like this?" asked Fayn,


    "We have a strong defensive position," said Varsus. "We are heavily armored, and our enemy is not. If all goes well, we might hold off until we run out of food.


    "But not all will go well.


    "I do not like the way all this is going.


    "You men, rotate positions; you''ve fought enough."


    Then, the howling stopped and was replaced by chanting. The satyrs drew back. Then came a new kind of satyr. They were larger and more robust, wearing armor and holding shields and axes.


    "These ones seem better armed," said Varsus. "Our men are tired, and we are failing. The time has come to cut our losses. Fayn, unleash your power. Now!"


    Fayn smiled and raised her axe, which clinked against the ceiling. "Flames of Cin'' dar, come to me!"


    A great fire arose among the corpses piled high. Smoke and flames arose, and the satyrs drew back. Flames rose higher and higher and hotter than anything Relma had fought.


    "We now face the more experienced satyrs," said Varsus. "Keep the fire burning. The smoke should drive them off. We''ll withdraw the passage. Take the bodies of our fallen with us."


    Relma looked at the dead bodies of two men. Men who had died in a single blow, their helms broke. Dead because of a battle she''d started.


    "We should leave them," said Fayn.


    "I will not leave my men unburied for the satyrs to devour," said Varsus. "Now come. Estela, Fayn, you are the rear guard."


    And so began the retreat. Relma was tired, and so was everyone else. They fled from the flames behind them down the passage. Every step was a labor, and Relma struggled to keep going. As she walked behind, she saw the bodies being carried. They weren''t more than five years older than her and dead.


    This was because of her decisions.


    Relma could tell herself that she had saved more lives. But she was still responsible for these deaths. Then they came to the crossroads and found shrieking satyrs fleeing from Reginald. The redheaded warrior had covered his blade in blood, and De Cathe was an equally grisly sight. Some of his men were lying by the far wall, dead or injured.


    Relma ran to them.


    "Well done! We''ve driven them off!" said De Cathe.


    "Come, let''s pursue them and wipe them out!" cried Reginald joyfully. "We''ll slaughter them by the hundreds!"


    "Not yet, Reginald," said Varsus. "We cannot afford to keep fighting them like this. We''ll face an enemy from both directions soon.


    "First, we must know our enemy. Tell us everything you saw.


    "Sir Varsus, we have a live one over here." said a man.


    "Then we''ll speak to him later," said Varsus.


    Relma dared not look up as she healed everyone she could. But she heard Varsus'' voice. "You, where have you come from? How did you gain such numbers?"


    "We are the satyrs of stone," spat the voice. "Lucius led those of us he deemed worthy into the mountains. He changed our blood and bodies and shifted us to survive. We multiplied and were fruitful.


    "Now we shall wash over all his enemies. What you faced her was only a token force, and more will come soon."


    Relma healed a man who had lost an eye. As she did, he gasped.


    "Go to your brethren," said Varsus. "Tell them that if they make war on House Gabriel, our venom shall destroy them when they think they are safest. For we are serpents, and our bite does not kill at once. Even if your blades find their mark, it will be your end.


    "Go."


    "So be it," said the satyr. Then, there came the sound of sprinting. Relma finished her work and made her way up to Varsus.


    "What did you say to him?" asked Reginald.


    "Couldn''t you tell?" asked Relma.


    "I don''t speak satyr, so no. Do you?" asked Reginald.


    "No, but I-"began Relma.


    "Servants of gods can speak all languages, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "Don''t pay mind to it."


    "Varsus, what did you say?" asked Estela.


    "These satyrs are the descendants of a colony sent into Smyngoth''s Mountain. That was long ago," said Varsus. "They must have multiplied within the old goblin empire. No doubt, they''ve been planning this for a long time."


    "So what do we do?" asked Relma.


    Varsus looked around. "...This is a poor position for us to defend. There are two ways out, and the fires are dying down. We must withdraw the way we came and find another choke point. If we beat a fighting retreat, we should be able to dissuade-"And then he halted. "Where is the passage we came in by?"


    Relma looked up, and Ajax moved forward.


    "It has always been here," said Ajax.


    "Not anymore," noted Fayn.


    "It seems Lucius has closed our means of retreat," said Aunt Pan. "We''re trapped."


    This was not good.

 Chapter 299 - Fifteen: Heaven and Hellfire

    Silence fell over the group as they waited. Relma saw they felt a sense of dread, but she felt nothing. She set about looking for anyone else who was hurt. As she did, everyone looked to Varsus more than Relma. That irritated Relma, though she knew it really shouldn''t.


    "What now?" asked Fayn.


    "We make a stand," said Varsus. "The longer we hold them back, the more trouble we''ll cause for their forces."


    "Wonderful work, Relma!" said Fayn.


    "What were you thinking, dragging the satyrs down on us?" asked Estela.


    "Forget it, Estela," said Reginald with a smile. "It was a calculated risk. And I''m game to kill a few hundred before I die. Something about this place gets my blood pumping.


    "I''ve killed five already," He looked to Estela. "How many did you kill?"


    "Three," said Estela.


    "Six," said Fayn. "Not to mention the ones I set on fire."


    "Nicely done," said Varsus. "Still, we lost a few men in the fighting. It happens. We have the bodies over there. We''ll see about giving them rights later."


    Why were they all so calm about this? Many seemed in good spirits. "...I didn''t mean things to turn out like this," said Relma.


    "Well, you certainly managed it nonetheless," said Aunt Pan.


    "Perhaps we can surrender?" suggested De Cathe.


    "What good will that do us?" asked Estela.


    "We have many illustrious names among us," said De Cathe. "If we can secure a surrender from Lucius, perhaps some of us may live."


    "Unacceptable," said Aunt Pan. "The Heir of Kings must not fall into his hands."


    "Do you have any brilliant ideas, Pandora?" asked Fayn. "Or are you just going to shoot down other people''s?"


    "I do have one," said Aunt Pan. "Relma, I will need your help with this. Give me your hand, and draw Lightning Trail."


    Relma drew the blade and saw that the light had returned to it. She took Aunt Pan''s hand and was led over to the wall. Aunt Pan put a hand to the bare wall.


    "What are we going to do?" asked Relma.


    "I''m going to open a way through Turmoil, the dimension of limitless potential," said Aunt Pan. "It will be difficult, and we may intersect with hell. But if all goes well, we can create a new passage out of here."


    "By all means, do so," said Varsus. "If you can''t, we''ll die well."


    "Dying is not among my priorities," muttered Estela.


    Pandora said nothing. She closed her eyes, and Relma felt the energy drawn from Lightning Trail into her. Then it flowed into Pandora. The power surged into the walls, and the walls seemed to fade away to reveal a new path. One tiled with white stones.


    "Come on, follow my lead," said Aunt Pan. "There will be things within this place you do not understand. Ignore them and don''t think about them.


    "Relma, help me form a shield."


    "A shield?" asked Relma.


    "Yes," said Pandora. "We will create a shield around our forces so they don''t see outside of it. We''ll have to look at what lies beyond, but they don''t have to.


    "Varsus, ready your men to follow closely behind me. Make sure no one falls behind."


    "As you wish, Lady Pandora," said Varsus.


    Pandora looked at her. "Now, Relma, focus your power. Imagine a mist rising around us, hiding our gaze from the monsters beyond."


    Relma obeyed, focusing her power. As the others clustered around them, Relma was instructed by Pandora. Little by little, a massive shield of white energy formed around them, and Pandora led them down the passage. Soon enough, the stones faded away, and they were walking on a smooth surface of many colors. It became translucent, and beyond, Relma saw a strange void. It was not so much nothing as unformed. Nothing was formed, but there was limitless potential. Little by little, as they traveled, Relma became aware of warm light. It became brighter and brighter above her, but at the same time, it did not hurt the light.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    "What is that light? It''s beautiful," said Relma.


    Pandora smiled. "You''ll see it soon enough.


    "What you are looking at is the heavenly domains of the gods. Each one has a different god who rules over it." Then Relma did see it. A great city, or perhaps a world. It was indescribable to her, a place of flowing fountains and elaborate streets. There were great cities and vast forests. And at the center was a great mountain, more prominent than a continent. It seemed to be everything all at once but with no contradictions. As if this place was the sum of all existence.


    "There, on that peak, is the mountain of Elranor," said Aunt Pan.


    "Have you been there?" asked Relma.


    "Of course not," said Aunt Pan. "One goes there by dying.


    "Careful, we are near another kind of enemy. Don''t look; focus your will through Lightning Trail. Focus on the shield."


    Relma did so. "How far do we have to go?" She felt reluctant to leave. "I don''t really want to leave here. I feel like I''m coming home."


    "I''m not sure yet," admitted Pandora. "This place does not work the same way as the real world. We are almost entirely in the spirit world now."


    Little by little, they passed beyond it. The city or whatever it was passed from sight. The light faded, and darkness came. But the night was not a void but a place of twisted potential. There were strange clouds within it that pained her eyes. Every so often, she could hear things, strange voices in the dark.


    "What is this place, Aunt Pan?" asked Relma.


    "Hell is drawing near to us," said Pandora. "Focus your will, and harden your heart. Whatever you see, whatever you hear, do not allow it to reach you."


    "I know," said Relma, feeling a lump in her throat.


    Pandora looked to her with a strange look. "...You do, don''t you?"


    On they walked, and soon they began to see other cities. But where the one they''d seen before was whole and unified, these were places of conflict. Wars were fought on them as strange, monstrous creatures tore at one another. These things were real, but it was like they had taken creation and bent it to their will.


    "So those are the hells," said Relma.


    "Yes," said Aunt Pan. "The domain of all evil."


    On they went, and then Relma saw something strange. It looked like a vast abyss stretching out in every direction around them. It seemed more significant than anything else, yet she could see the entire thing. Innumerable lights of every color and nature were always flowing into it. "And that? What is that?"


    "The Soul Event Horizon," said Pandora. "All who go beyond that last barrier never return." "I''m afraid, Aunt Pan," said Relma, realizing it was true. "I''ve never been afraid." Never in her entire life had she been terrified. She had felt concerned but never afraid.


    "Oh, what a remarkable revelation, dearie," said a sharp voice. "You flatter me, really."


    Relma looked up, and then the walls of their path seemed to shift. From all sides came hundreds upon hundreds of spiders outside the shield. Varsus and his warriors seemed in a trance and took no notice. The spiders tore at the shield and parted as their leader came forward. What Relma saw had the lower body of an immense spider. Yet her upper body was that of a beautiful, incredibly curvaceous, elven woman. She had violet hair and sharp features to the bottom of her neck, and her teeth were sharp.


    "Rioletta," said Pandora.


    "Yes indeed, darling, it is I in new flesh," said Rioletta, raising a hand to reveal chitinous violet claws. Each one held threads of silk reaching behind into her spider body. This was the goddess of weaving? "I saw you going through turmoil, and I thought I might weave a few webs."


    "What do you want here?" asked Pandora.


    "Want?" asked Rioletta. "Why, nothing from you directly. Merely entertainment at the expense of others. Lucius asked me for a favor; he was always such a nice fellow. Like an uncle to us, really. He helped restore my strength after that insufferable Ictargo interrupted my date.


    "Now, hand over the Heir of Kings."


    "Or what?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "I''m sure you can learn that for yourself, darling," said Rioletta.


    Other shapes appeared in the darkness. And they were not within the passage but outside it. Vast shadowy things with fleshy exteriors. Like a thousand vast beasts that had merged and then grown extra mouths. Energy coursed through the ships.


    "Dark elven vessels," said Pandora.


    There would be no escape through battle. So why wasn''t Relma worried?


    "You made very fast progress through turmoil," said Rioletta. "But we expected you to take that route once you were cornered. It was foolish to reveal yourself so. Lightning Trail can shield many things, but against myself and Lucius, when do we know what to look for?


    "Hardly."


    Phantoms came forth from the mouths of the vessels, like elves but not elves. There was nothing physical about them. The air seemed to scream as they went through it, staring at them with sunken eyes of flame.


    "My dear elven servants will have a wonderful time devouring you all. And after my web have covered you...


    "You will be my servants."


    "If you think we''ll be bought cheaply, you are wrong," said Pandora. "I am not defenseless."


    "Oh, I''m sure you won''t," said Rioletta. "But the losses I sustain will only make the prey much more delicious. Perhaps I can bargain that Varsus fellow for William? He seemed the self-sacrificial type, and I''d love to pick up where we left off last time."


    "What if I give up?" asked Relma suddenly.


    Rioletta glanced up, obviously not expecting that. "Hmm?"


    "If I yield myself to you, will you grant my companions safe passage through the turmoil of your realm?" asked Relma.


    Rioletta paused and thought about it. "No, probably not."


    "Oh," said Relma.


    "Whenever a pure-hearted person gets self-sacrificial, they always get saved," said Rioletta.


    "Maybe it''s a technicality or a sudden rescue, but it''s generally not worth the effort to make deals with them.


    "Much simpler just to kill you all."


    "What if I swear on Lightning Trail?" asked Relma.


    Rioletta stared at her. "I''m sorry?"


    "You can''t do that," said Pandora.


    "I will go with you to Lucius," said Relma. "If I cheat you or betray the spirit of our deal in any way, I will relinquish all rights to Lightning Trail. That way, even if I escape, I''ll be no threat to Lucius, and you''ll still be able to benefit."


    Rioletta raised a finger and considered it. "Now, that is a rather remarkable suggestion. I''ve never heard of oathbreakers getting bailed out of their problems?


    "Not in any satisfying stories anyway."


    "Relma, you can''t do this-" said Pandora.


    "We''ll all die otherwise, Aunt Pan," said Relma. Then she looked to Rioletta and drew the sword. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "But, you, Rioletta, must swear on Lightning Trail yourself. Swear that you will not break our deal and bring harm, directly or indirectly, to my companions."


    "Well, that takes all the fun out of our deal, doesn''t it?" muttered Rioletta. "Very well. I shall swear not to harm them until I''ve brought you to Del Gabor. Give me the sword."


    "I''ll hold it," said Relma as she went forward and offered the pommel.


    Rioletta grasped hold of it and seemed to flinch at the touch. "I swear on all the above terms."


    "Relma, this is madness," said Pandora. But she was visibly tired.


    Relma brought the sword and offered it to her. "Take the sword, Aunt Pan. You can use it in my stead, and if I don''t come back, give it to Estela."


    "But-" began Pandora.


    Then Rioletta grabbed Relma by the neck with her claws, and her vision and hearing faded. "No more goodbyes, darling," said Rioletta. "We go to Del Gabor."


    How was Relma going to talk her way out of this one?

 Chapter 300 - Sixteen: Lucius

    When Relma awoke, her arms and legs were bound together by something sticky. She felt herself being bumped gradually. Opening her eyes, she saw the back of a spider scuttling, and she was on it. Around her were many other spiders and those specters she had seen before. Glancing up, she realized she was being carried in a bridal style by Rioletta. Her entire body was covered in webs.


    "So you awaken, darling," said Rioletta. "I was hoping you''d remain asleep for the rest."


    "Why does Lucius want my company?" asked Relma.


    "You don''t seem very fearful for one in your position," said Rioletta.


    "I don''t really get concerned about things," said Relma. "I mean, my body is terrified. You''re something it has never seen before, and all these monsters have it wanting to run. But I''m not my body. My body is just how my soul interacts with the world, like a suit of armor.


    "It affects me, but it isn''t me.


    "And I''m much more detached from it than most people."


    "How very disappointing," said Rioletta. "Some of the best fates I''ve we have come from the connection to the world. Take that away, and there is nothing but pathetic exceptions to how things are.


    "It is in the material plane that fate has meaning. Where changes can occur."


    "I know that much," said Relma. "Why do you think I wear this skin?" What was she talking about? What did she mean by skin?


    "To cheat," said Rioletta.


    "Cheat?" asked Relma. "Is that what you call it?"


    "Well, yes," said Rioletta. "You''ve taken on the flesh of a human with all the advantages. But you''ve kept your original spirit as is.


    "Your fate is preordained. Set in stone. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Only the details may change. I can make nothing of you because there is nothing to work with."


    "As opposed to William?" asked Relma.


    "Well, of course," said Rioletta. "He''s worth investing in. Such pride, such compassion, such flaws, I could weave such a wonderful tragedy from him. If only Elranor would stop interfering.


    "I''d just love to bind his soul in my webs and have my way with it. His blood is positively delicious."


    "You are the goddess of fate, aren''t you?" asked Relma.


    "But of course," said Rioletta. "My webs allow me to manipulate the fortunes of all those in the world. It is my great passion."


    "But you are limited in what you can achieve?" guessed Relma.


    "Of course I am," said Rioletta. "I may pull the strands of fate, but those connected to those strands may also pull. All the gods may pull the webs as well."


    "Then what is the difference between you and everyone else?" asked Relma.


    "Dearie, I am the Weaver," Said Rioletta. "I create the webs of fate from the river of souls. I keep the fabric of destiny from fraying, a duty no other god may do. And this gives me advantages.


    "All gods can perceive destiny. But I control where it goes.


    "Some threads are easier to alter than others, of course. Certain strands cannot be changed without damaging the tapestry."


    "And you can''t change my destiny?" asked Relma.


    Rioletta looked moderately embarrassed at the question. "Well, no. You see, your fate was written by the Goddess Karus in ages past. In those days, the God of Order, Valranor, fought a losing war. He was doing battle with Baltoth for power over Calisha. But there came the point when all was lost and his defeat certain.


    "Valranor went to my Karus and sacrificed a large part of his power to interfere with the strands of fate. He could not save himself, so he changed them to ensure Baltoth''s destruction. He foresaw that the descendants of Anoa the Bright would be powerful. And one in particular among them would rise to great heights.


    "And so he set them on a collision course with the God of Order, who he knew Baltoth would become."


    "Why would your Karus let him do this?" asked Relma.


    "I believe they were lovers," said Rioletta. "Though truthfully, I don''t much care one way or the other."


    "What happened to this Karus?" asked Relma.


    "Oh, she died," said Rioletta. "Baltoth was quite furious when he discovered what she had let Valranor do. He dedicated much of his reign to stamping out her worship throughout the cosmos. All in the hopes of averting the prophecy.


    "Not that it worked. Silly Baltoth. So he destroyed her and cast her corpse into the hell.


    "However, that corpse was found by my mistress, Zigildrazia, and formed into me. She entrusted me to Melchious, my master, and I learned under him. Rather ironic, really."


    "How is that ironic?" asked Relma.


    "Now that would be telling," said Rioletta, pleased at knowing something Relma didn''t.


    Then suddenly, they emerged into the daylight, and Relma saw before her vast wastes. The earth here was gray, and the only plants Relma could see were shrub grass. One or two pools of water were overlooked by scraggly trees here and there. And the skies above were in twilight.


    "Welcome to the Dusk Lands," Said Rioletta. "A barren and stretched realm, still recovering. I wonder why the Dust Elves love it so much.


    "The strands in this fate are thin. Chaos had a hold here."


    Then overhead, Relma saw a vast fortress built with the symbols of skulls engraved onto the walls. Towers jutted high like jagged teeth, and an unworldly green glow surrounded it. Iron gates swung open as they approached.


    "Is this Del Gabor?" asked Relma.


    "Whatever gave you that concept, darling?"" asked Rioletta.


    "Well, the towering spires and unholy glow helped," said Relma.


    "Then, yes," said Rioletta.


    The spiders were left behind at the gate, and Rioletta carried Relma through halls of stone. Within were vast numbers of satyrs camping and working. Some were playing cards, others sparring. They eyed Relma and Rioletta with distaste.


    And then they entered a barren courtyard. And there was Lucius, sitting next to a round table, reading a book and sipping tea. Beyond him was a great black arch made from what looked like solid black marble. It drains the light away gradually around it. Though how he drank it with nobody was beyond Relma. He looked up and radiated pleasure. "Ah, Rioletta. You got her to come back with you willingly. Well done, well done indeed."


    Rioletta set Relma down and ripped the webbing with one clawed finger. Relma stood up, getting the feeling back in her hands. As she did., Lucius floated forward and offered a sleeve.


    "Relma Artorious, it''s a pleasure to finally meet you." Relma did not take it. Lucius shrugged and drew back to the table, and motioned to a chair. "Please, sit down.


    "Would you care for anything to drink? Perhaps some tea? I''d like to be known as a good host."


    Relma remained standing. "...No, thank you."


    Lucius shrugged. "Suit yourself. As promised, Rioletta, if ever William Gabriel falls into my hands again, I''ll hand him over to you. I''m sure it will infuriate the Dreaming Goddess a great deal, I''m sure."


    "Excellent," said Rioletta. "It should spite that insufferable Arraxia as well."


    "I was led to believe you had patched things up," said Lucius.


    "Oh, we''ve never been hated enemies," said Rioletta. "If that is what you mean. But I''d absolutely love to hold this over her."


    "I''m not sure she cares nearly as much about who kills William Gabriel as you do," said Lucius. "The other part of our bargain is also fully in effect."


    "Why do you want William so much?" asked Relma.


    "Well, I had this wonderful plan going and a trapped slave to torment as I willed," said Rioletta.


    "Then he wrecked the whole thing. It really is only fair he replaces my losses. He also has a destiny that some compelling figures need him to fulfill. Having him in my possession would be a very powerful bargaining chip."


    "Perhaps we should discuss the matter another time," said Lucius. "Would you leave us in peace?"


    "Of course, dearie," Said Rioletta. Then she scuttled off.


    Lucius looked at Relma from where he was seated. "For now, Relma, I''m sure you are wondering why you are here."


    "The thought had crossed my mind," said Relma.


    "Well, the first reason is that I''d wanted to speak with you," said Lucius. "I like to connect personally to the various rising heroes of each age. It goes a long way to keeping the game entertaining.


    "There are, of course, more practical reasons."


    "Which are?" asked Relma.


    "I need you as a hostage," said Lucius. "Much as Rioletta desires William, you would be very valuable. So long as you are in my custody, Harlenor cannot act against me. Or, at the very least, not without alienating those who believe in the prophecy.


    "Of course, if they do call my bluff, I''ll have to cut your throat, but that is only a minor inconvenience."


    "I''d die," noted Relma.


    "As I said, a minor inconvenience," said Lucius. "I am immortal and eternal, my dear girl. I know a thing or two about the afterlife. And the truth is that death isn''t nearly as serious as mortals think it is.


    "The way things stand, you die repeatedly until you qualify for one of the afterlives. Then you enter that until it inevitably collapses and has to be reformed.


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    "It''s just part of the cycle."


    "Is that why you sent your own people to die in droves?" asked Relma, feeling a bit hostile.


    "The satyrs don''t value their own lives," said Lucius. "They live and die for the Unborn God. I''m presenting them with a means to achieve their goal.


    "But to answer your question, yes."


    "And the Unborn God is?" asked Relma. She felt she knew the answer already but did not want to use the information until she heard it.


    "A charming plan they invented of their own accord," said Lucius. "They believe that their souls and life forces join with a god still forming within hell. The Unborn God will one day awaken and consume the universe.


    "I mean to ensure it becomes partially true."


    "Is that your plan then?" asked Relma.


    Lucius laughed. "Plan? You think too much of me. I''m not more than an elderly gentleman looking out for his interests."


    "Then why are you trying to exterminate the Dust Elves? What do you gain from it?" asked Relma.


    "In the short term, nothing," said Lucius. "But once there are no more Dust Elves, their souls will still have to reincarnate. Some will become high elves, of course. But unless their population growth greatly increases, many will join other races.


    "Which is the thrust of my intentions.


    "I want to exterminate all species save humans and satyrs, starting with the elves. Once all souls are reincarnated in my creation''s races, I shall overthrow the gods. Once they have all been supplanted by my people, I will dissolve their afterlives. From there, I shall force all the souls of the dead to reincarnate as humans and satyrs.


    "Thus, all sentient life in the universe will be recreated in my image."


    Relma blinked. He hadn''t explained anything, really. "But why are you doing it?


    "Because I really don''t like elves very much," said Lucius. Then he paused to consider how weak this sounded. "And I dislike Alchara."


    Relma blinked. "... That''s your motive?! I assumed that when you murdered your wife to create a race of bloodthirsty monsters."


    "Well, it''s more of a hobby to pass the time than a plan, truth be told," admitted Lucius. "It wasn''t always. I remember I was quite a firebrand back in the day, always plotting this and that. Still, I''ve cooled off over the years; now, I pursue it for two reasons.


    "First, my subjects expect it.


    "And the second is a healthy dose of spite. I expect you''ll find that most motives are based on the latter. If we didn''t want to ruin someone else''s existence, we''d all find more productive things to do.


    "So you''re doing this all for fun," said Relma, disappointed by his motives.


    "And to create a gate in Del Gabor from which the orcish race will return and make war on all who live," said Lucius.


    There was dead silence.


    "...I expect I should have mentioned that first," said Lucius after a moment.


    Relma took this in. On the one hand, this ran contrary to Lucius'' earlier plan. But then it might further them in some fashion. Or he might simply be making things up as he went. Relma felt like she was, and it had worked out for her.


    So she feigned interest. "What are orcs?" She was genuinely interested, so it wasn''t feigned.


    "A particular species created by dark magics that has spread across the cosmos. Very fond of killing and burning, as I understand it. They landed here long ago but were wiped away by Alchara," said Lucius. "I''m bringing them into this world using the lifeforce of the satyrs who died in battle.


    "Though that may take some time, to be honest.


    "I''m beginning to think the plan might be untenable. I''ve been working on this gate for quite some time, and I can''t seem to get a stable connection." He motioned to the black arch and looked at it; Relma sensed power. Immense power. "This device was meant to create a shortcut through the spiritual plane. It exists alongside the material world. But what I need to happen is a gate to be opened into turmoil so I can reach other worlds entirely.


    "It''s been quite an interesting challenge. Of course, they have a similar gate in the domain of Antion and faraway Tarasif. Yet that is of much cruder design and is limited to where the gods began their creation of this world,"


    "Why do you want to bring these things to this world?" asked Relma.


    "I owe Fortenex a favor, and Melchious hopes to use the distraction," said Lucius. "Also, I like trying my hand at solutions to difficult problems.


    "You see, there are four general planes of existence. Heaven, hell, the spirit world, and the material plane. Heaven and hell existed first. They were creations of the gods'' will when they first came through the river of souls. Though some argue that hell is just a twisted mockery of heaven, it is all semantics.


    "The material world was then created by one or both of them. None of the stories agreed, even when I was a young man with a full head of hair. What is important is that the material plane is the battleground of Heaven and Hell.


    "They refuse to do battle directly, you see. Some claim that such a thing would destroy the universe. For my part, I believe it isn''t practical. Angels are at their strongest when in heaven and their weakest in hell. Demons have the reverse. An invasion would be unworkable. So instead, the two sides foist the whole problem off on mortals."


    "I thought Diabolus was the first demon," said Relma.


    "He was the first," admitted Lucius. "But demons did exist before the Seven Demonic Archons. Unfortunately, Diabolus was not what you could call original ¡ª or organized. The races were so monstrous they were useless for my purposes.


    "When I achieved Envy''s aspect, it was my idea to create the Seven Demonic Archons. They were creatures possessing the virtues of the heavenly realm but who used them for our ends. It then became a simple matter to arrange for Diabolus'' downfall. I haven''t met one man who liked him, so causing rebellion was easy.


    "Since then, things have been far more efficient. None of this evil-for-its-own-sake nonsense. These days, most demons who amount to anything have a clear goal and are willing to get their hands clean to get it."


    "Like Melchious?" guessed Relma.


    Lucius seemed to smile affectionately despite not having a face. "Melchious is a fine young man, but he''s something of a romantic. He appeals to the old guard of demons, lots of torture and destruction for its own sake. But he pursues all that because he enjoys it and likes fighting.


    "His goal is meaningless carnage, and that is what he achieves. He''ll grow out of it eventually and seek more realistic gains.


    "You are guessing a bit closer to home than possible for your mortal self."


    "I know," said Relma. "It''s evident in retrospect. I''ve always known the right thing to do. Every time I make a gamble, it pays off. I''ve never really misjudged someone badly yet.


    "I am not human, am I?"


    "No. You are not," said Lucius. "Your spirit is an incarnated angel of great power. Elranor does that occasionally. He refuses ever directly to intervene in an outright confrontation. He prefers to inspire greatness and gift powers to those who earn them.


    "I thought it rather a silly idea, but Harlenor has survived all these years, so there may be some merit.


    "Still, every so often, Elranor needs someone to intervene directly. Someone with higher power than your average mortal. In these cases, he has one of his angels incarnate themselves in a mortal body.


    "I was hoping you''d be the one I was looking for."


    "Looking for?" asked Relma.


    "Yes, that was the other reason I brought you here," said Lucius. "I''ve been looking for a particular angelic soul for a long time. My counterpart, Evoria."


    "The one you murdered," said Relma.


    "Yes, I stabbed her to death with a knife," Said Lucius ruefully. "It''s been millennia, and if she''d wanted to, she could have reincarnated at any time.


    "Being murdered is just an inconvenience. Nothing too serious. I''ve had it happen once or twice when I took mortal form. You don''t see me swearing eternal vengeance."


    "Why are you looking for Evoria?" asked Relma. "And why would she be an angel?"


    "It would be more accurate to say that she was akin to an angel," said Lucius. "She was the mother of your species and also the satyrs. Albeit, the latter was born through some unusual means.


    "The point is, Evoria and I are like gods ourselves by the simple virtue of being the first. If she was incarnated, she would likely display similar abilities to yourself. Great charisma, immense natural talent, and noble bloodlines. The usual."


    "Why are you looking for her?" asked Relma. "Do you want to get her back?"


    "Don''t be foolish," said Lucius. "I never loved her at all. I was created with a far higher level of comprehension and intelligence than her. She had a childhood where she learned to speak and walk while I did not."


    Relma wondered what it would be like to simply not have a childhood. To be born with immense knowledge and emotional maturity. "Why would the gods do that to you?"


    "It was necessary," said Lucius. "At the time humanity was created, most other races had existed for hundreds of years. We were a last-minute addition by Alchara, I''m afraid. Only a little thought was used, and little care was provided.


    "They gave me knowledge and power enough to take care of her.


    "And then they told me to breed a race with her. It was akin to marrying my daughter."


    "What do you mean we were a last-minute addition?" asked Relma, feeling human suddenly.


    "In the original plans for the universe, there were no humans," said Lucius. "Apparently, the universe they came from had only humans, and they wanted a change.


    "They designed each race with a specialty and among them. Dwarves were great miners and craftsmen. The elves were long-lived and wise. And orcs were great hunters."


    "Wait," said Relma. "You said the orcs were created by dark magic."


    "Yes, they were," said Lucius. "It''s somewhat complicated, but the orcish species was recreated in a new form. There is an Empire called the Demoration, ruled by a spoiled and indolent elite."


    "I''ve heard the name once or twice. What kind of name is Demoration?" asked Relma. "Why would they want to recreate the orcs, and why haven''t I ever heard of them?"


    "It was named after its founder, Demos," said Lucius. "A hero of some renown who defeated one of the Withering Kings. As for why you haven''t heard of them, they are not of this world. And they have existed for a very long time, extending their reach to many worlds.


    "They wanted to create an army of loyal slave soldiers. You see, they were somewhat unpopular with their people and did not want to rely on a citizen army. And later, when they succeeded, they took it one step further.


    "The whole idea was to replace the working class of their own society with brainwashed orc slaves. That way, they could permanently drive the peasants into squalor. They''d only have to cover up the horrible state of their society for a few more generations. Then, with luck, the lower classes would all die of starvation or become slaves out of desperation.


    "Not that the elites were aware this was their plan. Most needed to be more shortsighted to know they even had a plan. But that was, ultimately, where their strategy was heading. So, for simplicity, I call it their plan and ignore their rationalization of sin.


    "As happens with the idle rich, however, they were deceived more by Rioletta. When they made the orcs, they assumed they were creating life wholesale. In reality, however, their steps were being guided by Kreshlak, who wanted to restore his old race. When the time was right, Rioletta sent one of her agents to break their control over their slaves.


    "The resulting war developed... not quite to their advantage. It was a spectacular case of spannering on Rioletta''s part.


    "Spannering?" asked Relma.


    "A term we use for when an elaborate plan is ruined by a single, decisive action," said Lucius. "But in any case, the point is that original orcs are long since dead. The elves killed them, down to the last child, thanks to machinations I set in motion long ago. I am rather proud of that achievement, actually.


    "Where was I?"


    "You were telling me why you are plotting the eradication of non-humans," said Relma.


    "Ah, yes, thank you, dear girl," said Lucius. "At my age, I tend to ramble on and get sidetracked. Please indulge me.


    "Anyway, the point I''m getting at is that all of the races had their own specialty, which they were really good at. Each one had a god assigned to it as well. Barden for the dwarves. Laevian for Dust Elves, Alchara for High Elves. Then there is Dreamora for Dreamer Elves, Kreshlak for the Orcs. And so on and so forth."


    "What about halflings?" asked Relma.


    "Halflings are actually a different kind of dwarf. They are descended from some who went above ground and began farming," said Lucius. "They have the same ancestor.


    "Anyway, the point is that all these species worked very well. But they all were separate. There was no interaction between them, and the gods wanted there to be interaction. That was when Dreamora suggested they create humans to act as a sort of intermediate race. They''d have all the advantages of each race but not be as good in any area.


    "Evoria and I were the first.


    "Unfortunately, we didn''t have any of the benefits the first of the other races had. The world was not new and wonderful. The darkness had begun to set in. That was why I was given knowledge between good and evil."


    "Everyone already has that," noted Relma.


    "Not everyone did at first," said Lucius. "In the first days, the species were as children, unable to understand right and wrong. Eventually, the gods granted it to them when they were mature enough.


    "But I had it from the beginning.


    "I knew things. From my first moments, I could ponder the cosmos and know more than any other. I understood how to speak, and I knew right and wrong. And I picked things up very quickly indeed.


    "The gods claimed it was a gift. I learned otherwise.


    "Evoria had been born into an innocence unknown to this world now. She was more naive than the youngest child in the world. And I had been charged with taking care of her. I was more a father to her than a brother."


    He''d said that twice now. As if reminding himself of the fact. "Why did you kill her?"


    "It''s a bit of a long story," said Lucius. "But the two of us were charged with learning the ways of the world." He looked away. "Also producing a new human species. Unfortunately, we''d been made for a perfect world, and the world around us was anything but.


    "It was less unpleasant than it was now, but sin had come to filter in, even in those days."


    "Why did you kill her?" asked Relma more firmly.


    "Evoria apparently got on well," said Lucius. "She had a remarkable ability to charm people, much like yourself. Nor did she understand when others mocked her. For my part, I did understand her. My apprenticeship with the elves was a nightmare.


    "I spent the entire time listening to them act smugly, treating me as a child. And I wasn''t a child. But I lacked any of the experience that an adult would have.


    "I still remember the fathers and mothers of the elves. Men and women should have stood as equals, yet we were just stupid servants. And we were always the worst everywhere, no matter what we did.


    "We went to the dwarves and lived in cramped quarters. We were too large for their tunnels and needed more durability to do many of their techniques. And once again, we were the worst.


    "Among the orcs, we were not as strong or fast or skilled with the spear or axe.


    "We were nothing. We were the worst at everything we tried wherever we went.


    "Humanity was created to be terrible so everyone else could look good.


    "I hated them. I wanted to see the other races miserable. But my thoughts had not yet turned to murder. For in those days, I thought the gods would play by their own rules.


    "So we settled down. And we produced a race.


    "But I did not take time for pleasure or enjoying the world. What was there to enjoy? We had been given used goods on the day of our birth. It was an insult, so I returned the unwanted gift.


    "Instead, I focused on producing as many children as possible. Evoria wanted to take our time, but I had no time. I raised them quickly, forcing them to learn a trade immediately. Every child I produced became something more significant.


    "While other races celebrated and lazed about, we worked. There were no holidays for humanity, nor did we waste animals or resources for sacrifices to the gods. I sent my children to learn the ways of other races. But I did nothing to connect the races with each other. And when I discovered something wonderful or great, I kept it for humanity alone.


    "Queen Dreamora told me to stop. She said I was harming my children by making them work so young. But I knew the truth. She was afraid, for she saw now that I was about to defeat all the races at their own game.


    "Soon, I produced works of wonder and beauty the elves could not conceive of! I was mining faster and forging greater equipment than all the dwarves in the world! My hunters coordinated and soon forced the orcs to move farther afield. We killed more beasts than they ever could hope to! And we left to rot what we did not need so the orcs could not eat!


    "All of the other races! All their special talents and unique abilities were nothing! NOTHING BEFORE THE UNWAVERING AND ETERNAL WILL OF HUMANITY! MY WILL!! NOT THE GODS!!"


    Lucius was suddenly screaming, and the sound shook the stone and sent a pale light flaring in the skies above. Then he composed himself. "I apologize for that. Old wounds do get me angry.


    "We had been given nothing to work with. Our enemies had a centuries-long head start. And we still beat them."


    "I''m not sure it was a contest," said Relma.


    "Everything is a contest," scoffed Lucius. "As spoiled children often do, the other races cried to their parents. So the gods decided that they must take some action. They needed to prevent my children from making the rest irrelevant.


    "They could have adapted my own methods or developed new means. But that would take some actual work. So, instead, the gods decided to ensure that humanity''s lifespans would be far shorter. Thus limiting the amount we could learn.


    "I realized that the gods would never allow my species to succeed. We were the unfavorite. The game had been rigged against us at the start.


    "So I made a pact with Diabolus, stabbed Evoria to death, and used her blood to create the satyrs. I unleashed them on the Dreamer Elves, who lived in an isolated area. When they were completely wiped out, I planted evidence. I deceived the other races into believing the orcs did it. Using them, I set the elves and dwarves on the warpath against them. I nearly exterminated the species. And all the while, the satyrs viciously attacked the high elves while their men were away.


    "Most were killed.


    "The Dust Elves fled into the far east. The dwarves and orcs were butchering each other en masse. The high elves met the satyrs in battle, and together, they tore each other apart. Both were equally matched and caused massive casualties.


    "I was so close.


    "So close to destroying them all! To victory!


    "But then my children, the humans, turned on me. They sided with the high elves and fell on the satyrs, their true brethren. So the high elves won the battle by a narrow margin.


    "Then Diabolus broke through the barriers of reality and destroyed the world. The gods saved those who remained and would later create new worlds. But every world since has been but a reflection of the first.


    "As for myself, I was given to Diabolus.


    "But I negotiated with Diabolus and convinced him to make me his advisor.


    "And that, more or less, brings us up to date."


    Relma wondered about something. "Why do you still hate the other races after all this time? You''ve succeeded in making everyone as miserable as you were. Maybe more."


    "Because they aren''t human," said Lucius. "Anything not made in my image is an enemy to be destroyed. My victory will only be complete when the god''s favorites have been washed from memory."


    Relma paused and made up her mind. "...Well, you''re a horrible person."


    "Whatever you believe, I''m afraid I''ll have to detain you here. At least until such a time as other arrangements are made," said Lucius. "If you''ll excuse me, I have much business to attend to."


    "Kindly escort Princess Relma to her quarters."


    And shadows were all around them.


    Relma thought this conversation had been very productive.

 Chapter 301 - Seventeen: Negotiations

    Once again, Relma was in a cell. The good news was that it was nice, with plenty of straw. You had a nice window letting in the light, which was well-cleaned. The window went upwards and narrowed as it went up, so you couldn''t climb out.


    Relma had yet to try, of course. For one thing, she had nowhere to go if she ran. And even if she did escape, there might be missed opportunities here.


    Overall, being in prison was a distressing habit that she hoped would not persist. There were only so many prisons to break out of. And even prisons serve a practical purpose now and then. So, discrediting them all would be unfortunate.


    Now, how to discredit this one?


    Relma paced back and forth, hands in her pockets. "Well, this is a fine mess you''ve put yourself in, Relma. Ronald''s still sick, you''re far from help, and now you''re a prisoner of Lucius.


    "What am I going to do?


    "Let me think, what are my resources here. I''ve got none. Nothing tangible, anyway."


    When Relma ruled Harlenor, she should put in some rules about how prisons should be run. She''d hate to think that people would end up somewhere worse than this.


    Then she heard a horn call, loud and shrill. Then another and another after that. More and more followed until soon, there was an immense clamor. Coming to the window, Relma looked out of the window and saw satyrs. Thousands, no, tens of thousands of them. They were in all the courtyards of Del Gabor and outside the walls in great camps.


    "All that fighting and we didn''t do anything but delay them," said Relma sadly. "They don''t seem even slightly upset." She thought about the men who had died in all those battles and wondered what good it had been.


    "I''ve got to find a way out of all this, and I have to do it now." She sincerely hoped that her plan, whatever it was, was workable.


    Then she heard voices on the other side of her cell. They were the harsh voices on the other side. "Good news! We caught a Dust Elven village and burned it to the ground! Even killed a dozen of them, and we only lost thirty for our trouble!"


    "Lucius, be praised! We''ll crush them yet!" said another voice.


    Relma moved to the door. "Why are you so enthusiastic?" She whispered through.


    "Hmm?" said the voice.


    "You lost thirty of your comrades and only killed twelve Dust Elves," said Relma. "That doesn''t seem a good trade to me." Death for death wasn''t a good trade, even in normal circumstances. But she doubted that argument would fly here.


    "A human would think that," scoffed the satyr on the other side. "We are all of us dying with every day we live. But if we can only do as much as scratch our enemy''s faces, it will be a life well-lived. And we have done more than that.


    "Dust Elves mature at sixty. We mature at ten.


    "When those twelve have been replaced, there will be a hundred and sixty more of our kind. So we have won, in the end!"


    "Actually, it would be a hundred and eighty," said Relma. "And you''re not accounting for other forms of death. Disease, famine, accidents."


    "We satyrs live to die," snapped the other one. "Your kind should thank us for clearing the way for the superior species."


    "Well, I suppose the thought counts," said Relma ruefully. "What is your name?"


    "I am Shren," said the satyr. "I do not have a last name or any of us."


    "Nice to meet you," said Relma. This wasn''t good. They''d already started skirmishing. She had to find something to stop all this. If Elranor would suddenly appear with words of wisdom, now was the time.


    Elranor did not appear.


    Relma would gladly settle for Anoa the Bright. But he didn''t appear either.


    "... I''ll take that to mean either a no or ''you already have what you need," said Relma, walking away from the door. "So I have nothing physical to offer Lucius, and defeating him directly is out of the question. So what do I know? What do I know that could be of value to him. Let me think...


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    "Maybe Wrynncurth will come and rescue me. He''s interested in peace in his area.


    "No, he''s far away and doesn''t want to waste his flight until he can..." She trailed off as something clicked into place. "Can make more souls.


    "That''s it!"


    She rushed back to the door. "Excuse me! Shren!''


    "What is it?" said Shren.


    "I''d like to speak with Lord Lucius again?" said Relma.


    "Lord Lucius is not yours to call," said Shren.


    "But I have an offer for him," said Relma. "Something that will make him more powerful than ever before."


    "What is it?" asked Shren.


    "I can''t tell anyone but him," Said Relma.


    Shren remained silent. "You, inform the Master of this." He said, probably to another satyr. Footsteps walked away. "You''d best not be lying, girl."


    "Don''t worry. I''m completely on the level," said Relma.


    Then everything stopped. The room went dark as the light was sapped away, and Relma turned to see Lucius emerging from the blackness. "I''m told you have an offer for me."


    "How did you do that?" asked Relma.


    "I appear wherever I will," said Lucius. "And know the minds of my descendants. Please, speak." Relma felt a bit nervous, but she had nothing else to do here. "Have you heard of Adrian Wrynncurth?"


    "My dear girl, I hear of everyone," said Lucius. "A compelling individual and a clever practitioner of necromancy. Especially since he was entirely self-taught.


    "What of him?"


    "I can get you a meeting with him," said Relma. "I have a friend who is the son of his close ally, and I''ve worked well with him."


    "I suppose you could," mused Lucius. "But how could that be of benefit to me?"


    "The Black Dragons are an immense regional power," said Relma. "If you were to have good relations with him, you''d be able to influence the entire region around Gel Carn."


    "You exaggerate," said Lucius.


    "Fine, yes, I do," said Relma. "Wrynncurth isn''t going to fight any wars for you. But he could easily take your part in various issues. You''d have access to a powerful mouth in Steward Benarus'' ear."


    "And now, please tell me what I could offer him?" asked Lucius.


    Relma blinked in surprise at that. She was expecting Lucius to be two steps ahead the whole time. Or to shut her down directly. "Don''t you know?"


    "Of course, I know, my dear girl," said Lucius. "But you''ve put much thought into all this, and I''d hate to deny you the satisfaction of explaining."


    "Wrynncurth has been cursed," said Relma. "His species has been unable to create new souls for ages. He''s just been recycling the other black dragons.


    "But you... You''re one of the first beings to ever exist.


    "You have immense power. You want to rig the cycle of reincarnation so your favored species is the only one left. Your knowledge could be an immense help to him in his quest."


    "Yes, I see that much," said Lucius. "But would not allowing the black dragons to increase in numbers contradict my interests?"


    "Dragons don''t reproduce that quickly anyway," said Relma. "Elves, dwarves, halflings, and goblins are creatures you must worry about. It was ages ago when the gold dragons were decimated, and there are still barely any left.


    "It''s only a minor tradeoff and could be a huge help."


    The room grew a bit lighter. Lucius seemed to sigh, and the sound was painful. "Well, you''ve made your case well enough. Tell me, what do you want in return?"


    "I uh..." Relma blinked as she realized the hole in her plan. "I''m not sure I thought that part through yet."


    "Selfless martyrdom does have its drawbacks, I suppose," said Lucius.


    Relma saw what she wanted. "I want you to call off this war. Now. Send the satyrs back to their mountains."


    "Mmmhmm. What else?" asked Lucius.


    "And I also want you to lift your curse on every one your undead have affected," said Relma. She needed to help Ronald.


    "Ambitious, aren''t we?" asked Lucius.


    "And, obviously, I want my freedom," said Relma.


    "Well, I giving out outrageous offers is one," said Lucius, flourishing one sleeve. "Better than setting the bar too low. But you don''t understand what you ask by the second.


    "I exist in a multitude of worlds in a multitude of forms. I have cursed trillions of lives throughout the cosmos. Perhaps more. I would have asked me to remove the curses in Gel Carn."


    "In this entire world," Relma insisted.


    Lucius shrugged. "...Very well. I''ve never been overfond of curses anyway. If you must destroy someone, you might as well do it directly.


    "Now, we should move on to the third item on my agenda. That seems perfectly reasonable to me. In fact, I will provide you with supplies for your journey and safe passage back to your friends.


    "As for the first, I''m afraid I cannot do that under any circumstances?"


    Relma eyed him carefully. "Why not?"


    "As a leader, I have certain obligations," said Lucius. "The satyrs in this army have offered their lives. They have offered their very souls to me to destroy in the name of the Unborn God. They will die soon in any case.


    "It would be immensely callous of me to cast aside such devoted servants."


    "In that case, I''d be willing to accept you canceling your plan to bring the orcs into this world instead," said Relma.


    "Oh?" asked Lucius.


    "Well, I''m not unreasonable. I''m offering an alternative," said Relma.


    "And if I refuse?" asked Lucius.


    "Well then, we sit here until Wrynncurth enters the war and obliterates your armies," Said Relma. "I''ve already sent messages and secured his support in future endeavors. It''s only a matter of time before his flight comes here and obliterates this entire castle.


    "You can take my deal and get something out of this. Or you can inconvenience me for a few weeks and be destroyed."


    "You seem confident for one in prison," noted Lucius. "Why should you be here if you were so confident of victory?"


    "I hate bloodshed," said Relma. "I hate watching people die. I''ve never killed anyone directly, and I never intend to. Even if the only people who would die in this war were the satyrs, I''d still want to avoid it.


    "If I can''t stop you from sending the satyrs to their deaths, I''d rather at least prevent a second war when the orcs come in.


    "Now, are you interested or not?"


    "...Very well then," said Lucius. "Agreed." And he offered a sleeve. "Give me your hand in pledge."


    Relma took it and felt a chill go into her bones. Then, it was broken as Lucius floated away. "Now, I''ll arrange for you to be returned to your friends immediately. I must ask this, however. Do you think giving me access to Wrynncurth will work well for you?"


    "I told you I''d arrange a meeting," said Relma. "I never said I''d thought you''d get anywhere.


    "Besides, Wrynncurth is reasonable. If you want to maintain any influence over him, you must also be reasonable. If you want to influence Gel Carn, you must open yourself to our influence. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "In games of influence, the good usually wins."


    Lucius laughed, and the voice was sardonic. "...You are far cleverer and far more naive than you appear at first glance, Relma Artorious. I like you."


    Relma eyed him carefully. "You are a very charming, elderly gentleman, Lucius. But I don''t trust you."


    "That is wise," said Lucius.


    So, negotiations concluded. Relma just hoped she had avoided making a massive mistake here.

 Chapter 302 - Eighteen: Poisonous Friends

    The next day, Relma was led out of her cell and through the gates of Del Gabor. The doors slammed shut behind them with an audible clang. Thus revealing the snarling and glaring face of a monster carved into them. To think, she had just started to like the place too. Rioletta was nowhere to be seen, though some of her spiders remained. There was a group of satyrs waiting for her.


    Shren was among them. And Lucius appeared. "These warriors will take you to your friends. Messages have been sent ahead, so they know we are coming. I should advise you not to stray too far."


    "My warriors and I shall protect you with our lives," said Shren. "And if we are betrayed, we shall kill you with our own hands." He paused. "Would you prefer rope or just a sword between the ribs? Or a cutthroat?"


    "Thank you, Shren," said Relma. "I''ll leave the judgment in your hands. Out of curiosity, where is Rioletta?"


    "Tending to her own affairs, of course," said Lucius.


    "And what affairs would those be?" asked Relma.


    "I''m not one to inquire about my enemies'' private business," said Lucius. "I know of it by other means."


    "Enemies?" asked Relma. "You were working together. You are working together."


    "There is no such thing as friendship among the hells," said Lucius. "Merely a mutual use that will be cast aside when that use is outlived by one or both parties. If you will excuse me, I have other business to attend to."


    And he disappeared.


    Shren motioned to Relma. "We must go quickly. The Dust Elves may have spies waiting for us." They walked through the Dust Lands, and as they did, Relma noticed something. The land wasn''t just barren, like a patch of grass that had been trampled. It was dead. Nothing dwelled in this place or very little, and she sensed something absent. She had felt it all her life but never noticed it until recently.


    "These lands are strange. It''s like the spirits are asleep," said Relma.


    "They were crushed beneath the will of Lucius in ancient times," said Shren. "They sought to defy him and so paid the price. And they have yet to recover from it."


    All this devastation for one offense? "What did they do to offend him?"


    "There are many stories. Some say they broke a contract with him," said Shren. "Consider it a warning." He paused. "If we are betrayed, I think I''d best keep things simple and run you through the heart. I want to kill at least one enemy before I die, and Dust Elves attack swiftly."


    "Why are you so hurry to die?" asked Relma. The whole species seemed fixated on death.


    "It is our purpose," said Shren. "Other satyrs have strayed from the path of blood and death. But we pursue it even now. Ours is the people who will wash away all over the world."


    So they walked through barren lands. As they did, they scaled crags and walked through dunes of sand. The air was tense, and gradually, Relma began to sense a bit more life. "Why would the Dust Elves ever want to live here?"


    "No one wanted this domain," said Shren. "The land is nearly worthless. So when they were forced out of Escor, it was up for grabs."


    "So why would Lucius want to unleash an invasion of orcs here?" asked Relma. "Wouldn''t it make more sense to pick somewhere that could support an army?"


    "It would," said Shren. "Which is why he picked here. Fortenex is often impatient to act and sometimes makes mistakes. If Lucius could open a portal here, Fortenex might send forth the race into this world. They''d then be slaughtered in droves by the Dust Elves, and even if they won, the land they gained would be worthless."


    "So he''s starting an extraplanar invasion, so it will fail?" asked Relma.


    "I think so," said Shren. "Orcs are not satyrs or humans, so Lucius would love it if they were exterminated. He would still love it if they took severe losses fighting the Dust Elves. From there, they''d starve to death in the wastes."


    "And you''re willing to give your lives for this cause?" asked Relma.


    "There is no difference between a good deed and an evil one," said Shren. "They are merely a matter of like and dislike. What matters is that you commit yourself to something greater. That is the way of salvation, to give up the self in pursuit of another''s glory.


    "We are obligated only to our ancestors, who brought us into this world. And Lucius is the ultimate ancestor."


    "What about Evoria?" asked Relma.


    "Oh, she''s dead," said Shren. "Though I''ve heard there are some shrines raised to her here and there." Then he halted. "We''re nearly there. We''ll move to that hill and raise the flag of parley."


    "Why?" asked Relma, looking around and seeing nothing. "Who are you parleying with?"


    "Someone you haven''t seen yet," said Shren as they scaled the hill. Then he motioned. "See there."


    "I don''t see anything," said Relma, staring over a series of black rocks.


    Then, she began to pick up movement. Sand moves slowly across the wastes between the rocks. Some of the sand seemed to disappear into the rocks. Others moved away, and it wasn''t because of the wind. Gradually, Relma realized it wasn''t sand.


    It was people. People clad in cloaks like the landscapes. The rocks were tents, and they were everywhere. More and more, Relma picked out tents all around her and what looked like a market. This was no wasteland; it was a city!


    "...I see them. They''re all around us," said Relma.


    "Indeed," said Shren. "The Dust Elves are perhaps the most dangerous creatures to hunt. If we die here, it shall be a fitting end." And he drew out a scimitar as around them emerged dozens of robed figures. They were wielding short swords and bucklers while some stayed behind with bows. These had arrows trailing on them.


    And into sight came a Dust Elf. He was very tall for his kind, making him of average height. His eyes were narrowed, and over his mouth was a scarf. One of his long ears was notched, and he held a spear toward them. On his head was a helm of steel with silver ornaments. Shren quickly put a sword to Relma''s throat, though not unkindly.


    "Speak your terms, satyr. Then prepare to die," snarled the elf.


    "We are not here for battle. We have come to return a prisoner." Said Shren.


    "Have you?" asked the Dust Elf. "I know of no prisoners."


    Obviously, Lucius would have talked with Aunt Pan about any such arrangement. There must have been a meeting where it was decided on, and if Aunt Pan had not told this elf, Relma wouldn''t either. That is not the full truth. "I am Raleen. I was in the company of Lady Pandora as a serving girl. I was captured by Lucius, whose servants mistook me for another.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "He wishes to return me as a show of goodwill."


    The Dust Elf raised an eyebrow. "Goodwill? His armies are moving into my lands?"


    "I don''t believe he was sending his goodwill to you, though I mean no offense by it," said Relma. "He is returning me to my Mistress."


    The elf scanned over Relma, then the satyrs. "I see.


    "Give her into my custody, and I will return her. You will then return to your own kind, where you may live longer."


    "We will breathe our last when your veins are empty," replied Shren with a laugh.


    Then, ruffling Relma''s hair, he shoved her toward the elf, who stepped aside and let Relma pass. Shren and his warriors left, and Relma was taken into the city. She saw all kinds of strange things. There seemed to be some sort of ritual before a small forest of scrub trees.


    "What is that?" asked Relma.


    "We are performing the duties of Laevian," said the elf from before. "Lucius devastated this land long ago. We are attempting to restore life to it. But healing requires both the restoration of the spirit and the body. Without one, the other cannot live.


    "They are attempting to draw out the weakened spirits into those lands we are working on. It is a long process, but we have been able to make parts of this land grow food."


    "How do you survive in this place?" asked Relma.


    "We import most of what we need," said the elf. "Our people are great warriors, and we earn great fortunes abroad in the wars. We also provide shelter to merchants moving through the regions. That guides them for payment. The artists among us also fashion glass from the sands. One can make a living virtually anywhere; you need only know where to look.


    "Come, we will speak in my tent."


    As it turned out, his tent was more ornate than the others. Within it were all manner of weapons and riches. Relma gazed at them with wonder as the elf offered her a cup. "Now then, what errand is it that Lucius sent you on? Seldom have prisoners left Del Gabor unchanged?"


    "So Lucius has prisoners often?" asked Relma. "I didn''t see anyone else in my time there."


    "...He has only recently taken up residence," said the elf. "Answer the question."


    Relma paused. "He would have me deliver a message regarding the Heir of Kings."


    "And the Heir of Kings, where is she?" asked the elf.


    "Relma isn''t captured to my knowledge," said Relma. "But... Lucius seems like the sort of person who would do anything. I''d hate to think what might have happened to her."


    "Then you believe her to be dead?" asked the elf.


    "I met Lucius," said Relma. "I think... He would have killed her instantly if he thought she was a threat. And she was a threat to him."


    He nodded. "...Excellent.


    "That is one more problem solved. Come, we will bring you back to the Lady Pandora, and you may explain matters to her."


    Relma shuddered at his tone. "Thank you. May I ask your name?"


    "I am King Drakaran of the Dust Elves," said the elf. "I am pleased to hear that the enemy of my ally is dead. It is one less obstacle to my plans."


    "How is it that your people hide so easily?" asked Relma, trying to change the subject.


    "It is a rare talent our race was blessed by in the beginning of all things," said Drakaran. "Granted to us by Laevian in our forming." S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Laevian is feared by humans," said Relma. "And everyone else, for that matter."


    "She is feared by us as well," said Drakaran. "However, she tolerates us more than she does other mortals."


    "Why does she hate mortals?" asked Relma.


    "She was against their creation at the beginning of the world," said Drakaran. "She desired that the universe be one of the wild animals without any mortal races. We were created to counteract the damage they did to the natural world."


    "That sounds dull," said Relma.


    "Have you ever been stranded in the wild?" asked Drakaran.


    "Once or twice," admitted Relma.


    "Then you should know such a realm would be dangerous," Said Drakaran. "Mortals brought about things like order and harmony. Nature is not harmonious. Nor is it chaos.


    "Nature is a sea of competing interests.


    "We mortals are unnatural because we bring meaning to a meaningless world. We may consume far more than we need simply out of greed. Likewise, we may keep ourselves in check or help other races."


    "If she hates us so much," said Relma, "why is she your god?"


    "It isn''t practical for a god to not have a race," said Drakaran. "Dark spirits might be her favored species. But mortal races are an important part of any divine hegemony."


    "And why do you worship her?" asked Relma.


    "Our ancestors did, and we want to be reunited with them when we die," said Drakaran. "Many of them have become dark spirits who serve in her eternal wood."


    Relma felt in danger here. "May I ask you something, King Drakaran?"


    "Of course," said the King.


    "Why do you want the Heir of King''s dead?" asked Relma.


    "It''s nothing personal, you understand," said Drakaran, removing his helm. His dark hair fell around his shoulders. "We Dust Elves stand on a razor''s edge, and only our alliance with outside powers allows us to remain free. We play one side against the other and make alliances as we see fit.


    "But if the Heir of Kings achieves their destiny, they will have control of the three kingdoms. Baltoth will be dead. With Calisha in chaos, their next step will be to reclaim their old dominions. The Dusk Lands have only recently come into our hands, and the Heir of King''s has a claim to its rule.


    "Having outlived our usefulness, they would surely destroy us."


    "But maybe they wouldn''t even consider doing that," said Relma somewhat weakly.


    Drakaran drew off his cloak, then his chain shirt. Beneath was a toned body, visible even beneath his garments. "Then their descendants would. Humans change constantly. It is their great strength and great weakness. Because their kings change so often, their policy is constantly shifting.


    "You can''t rely on humans for more than twenty to fifty years," He turned and motioned to the guards. A servant brought forth two cups. "That was our mistake in Escor." Taking a cup, he offered it to Relma. "Will you join me for a drink?"


    Relma took the cup and noted Drakaran''s eyes on her. "...You don''t believe me, do you?"


    "No," admitted Drakaran. "I met with Lady Pandora some time ago. I know she keeps no servants, and I''ve had your description for some time. Varsus was very helpful here."


    "Was he involved in this?" asked Relma.


    "Oh, far from it. He doesn''t need to know, and he never will," said Drakaran. "The whole thing is somewhat distasteful. But when one is dealing with the fate of entire races, one must, on occasion, be a little ruthless.


    "You''ll feel no pain.


    "Your eyes will droop. You''ll drift off to sleep and then simply never wake up. Your body will be buried in sand, and the world will continue as if nothing happened. Of course, you will reincarnate, but the bloodline will be severed. The threat will have ended."


    Relma paused. She needed to stall. "...You were very open about the fact that you wished me harm. Why?"


    "Well, the bloodline of Elranor has a... sixth sense," Said Drakaran. "They can divine the nature of those they meet fairly easily, see below the surface.


    "So I thought I''d put my intentions upfront as a cover for a smaller lie. The lie: I believed you in the first place.


    "Did it work?"


    "Very well," said Relma. "You do realize this isn''t work, don''t you?"


    "You''re just stalling," said Drakaran.


    "There is a prophecy," said Relma. "It has to come true in some form. If the Heir of King''s bloodline is wiped out, it can''t happen. And I''m the last.


    "Look, this plan was very good.


    "But I think we both know that something is going to come completely out of nowhere to stop this from happening."


    "A true enough assessment if you are the only heir," said Drakaran. "Unfortunately for you, there is another bloodline."


    Relma paused. "What?"


    "Yes." said Drakaran. "Have you heard of a man named Tuor?"


    Relma knew the name, though she felt very little for it. "...Yes. He killed my parents."


    "He was a bastard son of Anoa the Bright, taught by Gail Arengeth alongside Lady Pandora. He was granted the same immortality," said Drakaran. "He later stole a powerful artifact and fled east to take up service with Baltoth.


    "A man who betrays one master will surely betray the other.


    "It is possible that the prophecy refers to Tuor overthrowing Baltoth. From there, he could later conquer Harlenor."


    "Won''t that be worse than me becoming King?" asked Relma.


    "In the short term, perhaps," admitted Drakaran. "But his reign would be unstable and shortlived. Harlenor will never submit to rule by an outside power. They are a proud and savage race, unwilling to accept slavery to anyone. Let alone one who betrayed their god.


    "The bloodline of Anoa the Bright will be destroyed. The dream of Harlenor Reunited will die. And people will cheer-"


    And then, a guard rushed into the room. "King Drakaran! Black dragons are coming right toward us! Dozens of them!"


    "And that will be Adrian Wrynncurth," said Relma.


    "Wrynncurth?" asked Drakaran.


    "Yes, I asked him to help us against Lucius a little while ago," said Relma. "A very powerful sorcerer with a great many friends.


    "Now, I''m sure you could poison me before he lands. But then someone might happen to stumble in here. After all, Elranor is probably going to be slightly upset. Gods who get angry can give you a run of bad luck at the very least." Then she raised the cup. "Conversely, you could take this cup from my hand and tell me it''s the wrong drink.


    "Then we go out there; I introduce you to Wrynncurth. From there, I turn the discussion to the possibility of a Black Dragon, Dust Elf alliance. If that works, we''ll naturally bring Telix, a son of Baltoth, into the discussions.


    "In one move, you''ll have access to the beginnings of a powerful league. And when I inherit Gel Carn, we will completely control Southern Antion.


    "You won''t be breaking with House Gabriel or De Chevlon; this is just a side deal. And if they happen to backstab you later, well, you''ll have a solid backup plan."


    Drakaran looked at her, stunned for a moment. "...You are neither as clever nor as naive as you pretend to be, Relma Artorious. We''ll play things your way for the moment."


    "Thank you." Said Relma.


    Well, that had all worked out well; now she just had to get Lucius involved. Once she managed that, the plan would be well underway...

 Chapter 303 - Nineteen: The Council of the Powers

    Relma and Drakaran quickly made their way out into the midst of the camp, and there Relma saw Wrynncurth. The cow-sized dragon had folded up his great wings and seemed to be speaking with some of the sentries. The other dragons, most of them smaller, were pacing around this way and that under the gaze of Dust Elves.


    "Many thanks, old chap. Glad to be welcomed." said Wrynncurth.


    "Wrynncurth!" called Relma, moving up to him at a run.


    The dragon removed his pipe between his teeth and smiled with his toothy maw. "Relma Artorious. Splendid to see you once again? Is the Lady Pandora about? I''d wager we have a thing or two to discuss."


    "I got separated from her," said Relma. "I''ll tell you later. Right now, there are other things we need to talk about. This is King Drakaran."


    "I know all too well," Said Wrynncurth, moving past Relma rapidly, "Drakaran, nice to see you, old chap. Hear about your coronation. Sorry about your father."


    "You know me?" asked Drakaran.


    "Oh yes, of course, old chap," Said Wrynncurth. "We haven''t met directly, but I know many people I haven''t met. Jolly good to meet face to face at last, though. Very nice city you have here. Blends into the natural landscape like a chameleon."


    "Well, we try," said Drakaran.


    "And you succeed," said Wrynncurth. "I am fond of some human architecture, but some is just tasteless. And others are so menacing you might think they expected me to be afraid of them.


    "How is it that you two came to be together?"


    "Drakaran is my host at the moment," said Relma quickly. "I only just got free of Del Gabor."


    "You escaped Del Gabor?" asked Wrynncurth, raising an eyebrow. "Now that sounds like a story in itself. Do tell?"


    "Well, actually, I was set loose," said Relma. "You see, I convinced Lucius that I might be able to help him get a meeting with you."


    "You do?" asked Wrynncurth. "And what makes you think I''d ever accepted such a thing?"


    "Well, he is one of the oldest beings in the universe," said Relma. "And he is heavily associated with undead magic. It would be him if anyone could help you with your research."


    "Well, he might," noted Wrynncurth. "But that''s the trouble with deals with his sort. It all seems very mutually beneficial, but you get deeper and deeper. Pretty soon, you''re in their service.


    "I''m mostly self-taught myself."


    "Well, that was just the thing," said Relma. "You wouldn''t be going it alone. See, Gel Carn could act as an intermediary in the whole thing. That would bring Elranor into the equation, and Elranor is much more powerful than Lucius."


    "So that''s the scheme, eh?" asked Wrynncurth, motioning with his pipe. "Start dealings with dark powers and have their machinations help your machinations?"


    "Well, good is stronger than evil," said Relma. "And if evil men can use good ones'' for their own ends, it stands to reason that the reverse can be done."


    "And what makes you think they won''t slowly cause you to slip into evil?" asked Drakaran flatly.


    "Because I''ll be making them slip into good," Said Relma. "They won''t realize it at first, of course. They''ll say ''I''ll use this naive fool for my own ends.'' But they''ll have to do a few good things here or there, and it will get easier. And then one day, they''ll wake up and find that they''ve become good people, and I will be laughing.


    "Or something like that."


    "And what happens when you run into someone who decides they''d much rather just cave your skull in?" asked Drakaran.


    Relma took that to be a potential threat. Especially since he''d done that. "Well, I''ll improvise.


    "Where did you say Aunt Pan was?"


    "Some miles to the south, among another city of ours," Said Drakaran.


    "Right, I really appreciate your help," said Relma, deciding now was the time to leave.


    "Wrynncurth, I''m sure Aunt Pan will want to know I''m alright. Do you think one of your dragons could carry me to her? I know it''s an awful inconvenience, but I don''t want to inconvenience King Drakaran."


    "Of course. I shall carry you myself," said Wrynncurth. "I wager I ought to consult with her on all this before making any decision."


    "King Drakaran, I''m sorry we never got to have tea together," said Relma quickly, bowing to him.


    "But I hope you understand why I''m in such a hurry."


    "More than ever," said Drakaran.


    Wrynncurth bowed down, and Relma got onto his back, doing her best not to touch the spines. Then he surged, and she held on for dear life. Soon the Dusk Lands were all beneath them, and Relma could see a vast emptiness. Occasional trees could be seen, and what might have been villages. But in this place, they felt utterly alone.


    It was eerie that so many could dwell in an empty place. As if they were all just ghosts drifting through an obliterated landscape. The remnants of forgotten ages, newly diminished with each day.


    "So, do tell Relma, old girl," Said Wrynncurth. "Was he planning to murder you?" S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Actually, yes," said Relma. "If you hadn''t arrived when you did, I''d be in trouble."


    "Thought so," said Wrynncurth, voice satisfied. "It''s why I came to Lucius'' coordinates double-quick. Dust Elves aren''t very sporting fellows. Bloody good archers, though. You are smart with words, aren''t you?"


    "My goal is to become king without killing anyone. I need to be," Said Relma, smiling despite herself.


    "But you''ve already killed people," said Wrynncurth. "Or put them in positions to be killed. And I wager you''ve stepped on an ant or two in your life."


    "Well, that''s different," said Relma.


    "How?" asked Wrynncurth curiously. "How is it different to heal someone you know will kill someone else, however much they deserve it?"


    "I suppose it isn''t much," Said Relma. "But I don''t want to ever have to take someone''s life directly. I want to help and heal people. If I go around hacking people up, it will only cause more blood.


    Wrynncurth laughed sadly." My dear, the bloodshed has been going on since well before I was born. Empires rise and fall. Worlds are created and consumed. But in the end, there is always war.


    "It will only end when one side triumphs over the others.


    "But I expect that side will only fragment and turn on itself. That is the way of things."


    "It doesn''t have to be," said Relma.


    "And why not?" asked Wrynncurth.


    "If people could come to understand one another, there could be peace," said Relma.


    "Would there?" asked Wrynncurth. "I expect there would be those who wouldn''t care, whether they understood. We are not the knowledge we possess, my dear girl. Knowledge is merely what we base our decisions and worldview. But in the end, a man who knows everything may still decide to kill a saint for no other reason than it gives him pleasure.


    "Just as an ignoramus may choose to lay down his life to save a man he has hated because he judges it right.


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    "No, I''m afraid the world won''t be so easily sorted out as all that."


    "Then what hope is there?" asked Relma. "In your mind, I mean."


    "What hope?" laughed Wrynncurth. "Why for a temporary reprieve from endless carnage. One that no one is fully satisfied with but which more or less curbs the bloodshed. And it may last a generation. Just long enough for things to recover, but not so weak that everyone needs to remember how to fight.


    "It really is the best creation we can hope for."


    "You''ve got a very depressing outlook on life," noted Relma.


    "My dear, my entire family was murdered. I could only bring them back by returning them as a mockery of their former selves," said Wrynncurth. "My soul is tied into the hoards of gold I keep throughout the lands, and I regularly practice necromancy.


    "I have a mind to ask what you expected."


    " I don''t really know," admitted Relma. "You seem the same when you''re cheerful and angry."


    "We dragons don''t have facial expressions," said Wrynncurth. "And I always keep control of my voice. It keeps people guessing."


    Then Relma had an idea. An idea that might be the key she was looking for all this time.


    "Actually, Wrynncurth, if you don''t mind. Could I bring another person into your meeting with Lucius?" asked Relma. "Someone I think you might find very helpful."


    "Really, well, who is it?" asked Wrynncurth.


    "The Fairy Queen Isriath," said Relma. "I''m not sure I''m going to be able to get her to join, but I think if she became involved, we could be in a powerful position."


    "I don''t much see what you hope to gain by this," said Wrynncurth. "But I''ve no objection. Ah, here we are."


    He descended with a swoop toward a cluster of rocks that were tents; as they landed, out of them came Aunt Pan. "Relma?! What are you... How did you escape?"


    "I talked my way out," said Relma, dismounting. "Hey, Aunt Pan, could you get me another audience with the Fairy Queen? I need to talk to her and quickly."


    "What... why? What did you do?" asked Aunt Pan.


    "Something reckless, I''ll admit," said Relma. "But if I can talk with the Fairy Queen, I think I can make it work."


    Aunt Pan looked between her and Wrynncurth. "...I could speak to her. But she prefers not to appear except in sacred sites."


    "Tell her that if this works, we will be able to gain influence over Lucius," said Relma. "Not the other way around."


    "What did you do?" asked Aunt Pan, voice furious.


    Relma shuddered. "I promised to put Lucius in contact with Wrynncurth. In exchange for several concessions, of course. But if I can get the Fairy Queen involved, I can get several more. Worst case scenario, Lucius goes home with nothing."


    "What is your plan?" asked Aunt Pan, moving forward. "And how could you think this would work?"


    "Well, Lucius is the superior negotiator, right?" asked Relma. "He has much more power than any of us. But if we get enough people involved, we can present a united front that can force him to give ground. Either that, or he just goes home and gets nothing. In which case, we still get a powerful alliance.


    "And he knows that.


    "So he may give ground or lose all influence over a powerful force." Wrynncurth chuckled. "You''ve thought this through."


    "What are you talking about?" asked Relma. "Of course, I thought it through."


    "Well, even so, it''s a good plan." Said Wrynncurth.


    "Let me see if I have this straight, Relma," Said Aunt Pan. "You willingly put yourself into the hands of Lucius and made a deal with him. And now you are planning to bring him onto a council of the most powerful forces in the region. All so that you can control him."


    "Well, yes," said Relma. "Can I have Lightning Trail back?"


    "No," said Aunt Pan. "No. I''m not cooperating with this."


    "Oh well, I guess Lucius gets more powerful, and we all lose," said Relma.


    Aunt Pan scowled and drew out Lightning Trail. "Here is your sword, Relma."


    Relma took it and smiled. "Good. I need to talk to Ajax, Fayn, and Estela."


    She found Ajax, Estela, and Fayn playing cards in the dunes a way up. Relma felt somewhat offended that they did not run to greet her. Fayn looked up from her cards. "Relma, you''re alive."


    "I told you she''d be back," said Ajax. "Pay up."


    "Fine, fine," said Fayn, handing over coins.


    "What happened?" asked Estela.


    "Not right now, Estela," said Relma. "We have someone we need to meet and soon. Follow me."


    "Where are we going?" asked Estela.


    "To an ancient shrine of an angel," said Relma, remembering it. "One that lived here long ago but is now forgotten."


    "In that case, how do you remember it?" asked Ajax.


    "Simple enough," said Relma. "I am her.


    "My memories are fuzzy."


    Relma led them from the area on a course she needed help understanding. Eventually, she came to a place that looked to be nothing but sand. Yet, as they neared it, a great wind kicked up. From the ground rose a set of standing stones. They were made from bright white stone, each with seven points. At the center was an altar, and over that was a statue of an angelic figure. It was similar in appearance to Relma.


    Yet the eyes were harder, and a sword was in her hand. Long ago, there had been worshippers in this place. But no more. Lucius had seen to that.


    "I''d say she''s a girl," said Ajax. "Why are we going here?"


    "Because I need the three of you as representatives," said Relma. "Fayn, you''re the heir of the Steward, so you''ll represent Gel Carn. Estela, you are a Princess of Escor, so you can represent your people. And Ajax, you represent Telix''s Broods.


    "I need you behind me to gain credibility."


    They stood among the standing stones that had once been the meeting place of the spirits, before the ravaging of these lands beyond repair. The three looked tired, as if they had just been awakened from a long sleep.


    Estela sighed. "Okay, we know why you want us to wait here. What makes you think this is a good idea in any way, shape, or form?


    "You want to make a deal with Lucius."


    "No, I want to create a council at which every major regional power has a seat at," said Relma. "A place where race disputes can be resolved without a war. And also a place where we can unite against a common enemy, like the Dragon Empire."


    "And you think that by getting all these powers together, you''ll be able to get them to agree on something?" scoffed Fayn.


    "I''m not sure of it," Said Relma. "But it''s better to have the conversation and figure out the problems than to not talk about it at all."


    "When was the last time you conversed with us?" asked Estela. "You just up and disappeared a few days ago! You gave yourself up to demons, and we all thought you were dead or worse! Then you come back here and start wanting us to meet with them!


    "We were worried sick!"


    "I wasn''t," said Fayn.


    "Shut up, Fayn!" snapped Estela, "Relma, you''ve got to stop going off and doing these things."


    "I didn''t have a choice," said Relma. "Well, I did, but it would have killed us all."


    "You didn''t have to attract the attention of Lucius in the first place," noted Ajax.


    "Well no," said Relma. "But then he wouldn''t have found me, and I wouldn''t have been able to talk him into making a deal." Things were fitting into place now.


    "Fine, fine," said Estela, "do what you want. But you aren''t going to do this again. Not without consulting me. You are my squire, and you should be acting like it."


    "I''m sorry," said Relma. "I just- Aunt Pan, you''re here."


    Aunt Pan walked out of the shadows, appearing tired herself. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Yes, I am. And I have been communing with the Fairy Queen. She has agreed to support your idea."


    "Oh, I was hoping to speak with her myself," Said Relma.


    "I spoke with her on your behalf," said Pan.


    And then Wrynncurth descended to land amid the stone. He put his pipe between his teeth and blew a great smoke ring. "Jolly good of you, Pandora. Now, why don''t we get straight to the point, eh? Summon forth Lucius, and come what may?"


    "I''m certain this will go down in history as one of the great blunders of the world," said Aunt Pan. "But, we are committed."


    "I find the whole thing somewhat inspiring, actually," said a familiar voice.


    Relma got chills, and so did everyone else, from the looks of it. Together, they turned to see Lucius emerging from the ground. Aunt Pan''s face went white with anger. "Lucius."


    "Lady Pandora, you look far different than last we met," said Lucius. "I still remember when you were a young girl with pigtails."


    "You ordered me flayed alive," said Pan.


    "Did I?" asked Lucius. "Ah, yes, I remember. You interfered with my affairs. I had to make an example of you¡ªvery unfortunate business for all involved, to be honest. My plans were set back by years; of course, you had to deal with the trauma.


    "Whether you believe me or not, I found it all very regrettable."


    "I half believe you," said Aunt Pan with venom in her tone. "Others are coming to this meeting."


    "Are there?" asked Lucius. "I never would have guessed."


    "Another lie, Lucius?" asked another voice like bells.


    Isriath made herself known in flowing sand. She was now tanner of skin, and the leaves around her were withered. Her clothes were far less conservative as well. Her appearance must reflect the land around her.


    "Isriath, I must thank you for cooperating with my requests in all of this," said Lucius. "It is nice of you. You look as radiant as ever."


    "I thank you, King of the Blood Rites," said Isriath cordially. "You appear veiled in shadow as always."


    "Well, young demons like Melchious prefer to take on many faces and forms," said Lucius. "Zigildrazia likes to appear as few would expect her to. As for myself, I like to play to the expectations of my children.


    "What better an appearance for the Archon of Envy than nothingness? Ironically enough, though, it is a domain I bear with good humor.


    "Still, we should get to business.


    "Adrian Wrynncurth, I have heard much about you. However, I fear we have never had the chance to meet."


    "By design, I assure you, old chap," said Wrynncurth. "Hoping not to get involved in the Withering business, even if I use some means they created. Still, Relma seems to think you may have some knowledge to help me with my designs?"


    "I have knowledge that can help in all designs," said Lucius. "As for the creation of a soul, that is a very difficult. But I know much about the subject, and I have no doubt your research has yielded similar results.


    "Were we to compare notes, I am certain we could discover the secret."


    "That is true enough to be certain," said Wrynncurth. "Of course, less jolly is some of my conditions. You see, I rely quite a lot on good relations. If I can''t trust my neighbors not to go and invade me, I can''t trust too much."


    "Naturally," said Lucius.


    "Well, this is the tricky part," said Wrynncurth. "My neighbors are all in something of a conflict with you. It''s this satyr business, tramping around fighting Dust Elves. Of course, they''re not overfond of Dust Elves, but they don''t much like the idea of them getting wiped out either."


    "Well, that is something of a problem," said Lucius. "You see, I must find an enemy for them to destroy. These have willingly laid down their lives in my service, and it would be a waste not to put them to use."


    "Understandable, of course, old chum," said Wrynncurth. "I''ve had some idea which might solve all that. The news is that the Dragon Empire is planning to march north into Escor. With the conflict between House Stormstrike and House Vortegex brewing, it seems time.


    "If those lobster scales get their claws past the passes, we''ll face a series of wars. And that won''t be good for any of us."


    "So, you hope I relocate my satyrs to the north past the Dusk Lands. Then to the west to the pass of Dragon Bones," said Lucius. "And there we''ll fight a decisive battle where all my minions will have their death in battle. And all will be satisfied.


    "An ambitious plan.


    "Unfortunately, it relies on getting an army of satyrs through Escor. All without them causing mass carnage across the land."


    "Well, old chum, I''m sure you could instruct them not to plunder or destroy," said Wrynncurth. "And after that, that''ll be Escor''s problem, not ours. If it works, we''ll have a very profitable agreement."


    "Very interesting. Why are the rest of these present?" asked Lucius.


    "We represent a Council which the Heir of Kings wishes to form," said Estela, stepping forward. "The idea is to have neutral ground where the various powers in this region can negotiate as equals. Demon, spirit, mortal, and angel. All can speak their case.


    "If one acts out of line, the others may make a plan to deal with them."


    "A clever way to maintain the status quo," said Lucius. "Or destroy it. And I imagine I must agree to join this council for our deal to have any effect."


    "Well, it''s nothing personal for a chap such as myself," Said Wrynncurth. "But we''d prefer to have assurances otherwise."


    "Excellent," said Lucius with a laugh. "Now, what do we do about the Dust Elves who want my armies destroyed? If I relocate now, they''ll be liable to overtake and destroy them."


    "I am certain that I can arrange safe passage from your lands," said King Drakara as he emerged from the shadows. "And I am equally certain I can escort your armies the rest of the way to the front. To ensure they don''t step out of line."


    "King Drakaran?" asked Aunt Pan. "I don''t believe we told you we were meeting."


    "I was made aware of it some hours ago, and I intend to have my say in the matter," said Drakaran. "This... arrangement seems a fine idea, and I am willing to support it."


    "Oh. Well, good," Said Relma. "Did I just win?"


    "I would wait until after my warriors haven''t carved a swath of destruction across Escor. Then you may declare victory," said Lucius dryly.


    Relma smiled. "Right."


    Things were looking up.

 Chapter 304 - Twenty: Homecoming

    It took a week of hard travel to get to greener pastures in Escor. The ranks upon ranks of satyrs who accompanied them did not complain or say much of anything. Nor did they fan out to look at the countryside. Estela or Varsus would glance warily at them occasionally, but nothing happened. Their obedience to him seemed absolute now that Lucius had agreed to work with them. The Dust Elves kept regular shipments of supplies going to keep them moving.


    At last, the sands gave way to grassy hills, and Estela looked pleased. She stretched her arms, throwing back her cloak as she did while her hair flew behind her in the wind. "Finally, Escor! I haven''t been back in ten years!"


    "There must be many friends waiting for you," said Relma. She wondered if she would have a chance to meet them. Now that she''d thought of it, Estela had not spoken a great deal about Escor.


    "Some," said Estela, voice darkening. "Hopefully, they''re alive. Several rebellions happened while we were gone."


    "Can''t you exchange letters?" asked Relma.


    "Most of them probably can''t read," admitted Estela. "And uh, Father never was one for wasting paper."


    "Keep ranks!" called Reginald from beside the satyr column. A hand was at the sword at his side as he walked. "Stay on the march! Your god has commanded that not one innocent death is to be done to Escor, nor damage rendered! Obey him, or you will taste my steel!"


    "Reginald seems to be having fun," said Relma. Too much fun.


    "He''s a De Chevlon," said Estela with a smile and shrug. She seemed like she was in a good mood to be coming home. "They''ve always been able to understand satyrs because they''re kin to them."


    "What does that mean?" asked Relma.


    "Oh come on, Relma," said Estela. "They''re ruled by vampires."


    "Oh right, I forgot about that," said Relma. It hadn''t seemed necessary.


    "I''m pleased to see you are enthusiastic," said Varsus. "But the tricky part has only begun. There is little to steal in this place, and enemies are elusive. In Escor, it will be another matter.


    I suggest addressing them at some point.


    "I''m surprised at how well the satyrs have behaved themselves, to be honest. I was expecting to have to keep them in line with constant executions."


    "They are devoted to their god," said Relma, feeling less herself. "These are all volunteers on a crusade, not mere raiders. They''ve come to die for their religion, not live for material gains."


    "Well, I hope we can explain that to King Vortegex," said Varsus. "Are you looking forward to going home, Estela?"


    Estela remained silent for a moment. "I''m not sure."


    "What do you mean ''you''re not sure.''" Asked Relma.


    "Well, I... my Father, he sent me away to Gel Carn," said Estela. "I''ve always wanted him to be proud of me, and well, I''m not sure how things will-"


    "It''ll be fine, Estela," said Relma, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You''ve done many great deeds since you came to Gel Carn. I''m sure he''ll be proud of you."


    Then, one of the scouts came out of the hills. "The army of Escor is ahead. They have arrayed themselves for war."


    Varsus nodded. "Run up the flag of conversation and also the banners. We''ll try to meet them."


    The army of Escor was vast indeed. It had chosen a spot between the hills with many slingers atop them. Ranks of white armored men stood with spears at the ready in the front ranks. On the flanks were men in cloth and leather with spears and perhaps an axe, if lucky.


    When they raised the banner of conversation, a figure came forward. He looked old, about sixty, but he had an aura of authority. He had a short, white beard and cut short, graying hair. A scowl was on his face as he came forward. His face looked like he spent a great deal of time scowling, actually. "House Gabriel, House De Chevlon, what treachery is this."


    "Treachery?" asked Reginald. "You speak of-"


    Varsus put a hand on his shoulder, and Reginald halted before stepping back. "No treason. And I am not the one who commands here."


    "They are mine, Father," said Estela proudly as she came forward. "Allies brought to aid Escor against its enemies."


    "Allies?" asked King Vortegex, raising an eye without expression. "You''ve brought a legion of satyrs as allies? Are you mad, girl?"


    "It was not a plan that was developed ahead of time, Father," said Estela. "For now, however, they are here to help against Stormstrike and the Dragon Empire."


    The old man scowled harder. "I take it, then, that Pandora is among your number."


    "She is, King Vortegex," said Pandora, emerging from the ranks.


    He eyed Pandora distrustfully. "We''ll discuss the matter later.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    "For now, the Dragon Empire may strike any moment, and you''ve drawn my forces off at a critical juncture.


    "What of the treasury?"


    "I have it here," said Estela quickly, drawing off the box and offering it to him. "The winnings should go a long way to funding future campaigns."


    The King looked in a better mood at that, but he did not look at Estela. Just the box. "So they will.


    "Lady Pandora, can you ensure these satyrs stay in line?"


    "Yes," said Pandora. "Or I would not have allowed them to be brought."


    "Very well then," said King Vortegex. "General De Cathe, do you agree?"


    Edward De Cathe came forward and kneeled. "It is. And I believe that they may turn the tide at last."


    King Vortegex nodded. "Very well. Shadow the formation while it goes to the Pass of Dragon Bones. I will join you there as soon as I am able."


    "As you will, my king," said De Cathe.


    "Estela, you will head with me to the capital at once," said the King.


    "But I should be with you at the-," began Estela.


    "It is necessary to our terms with Stormstrike," Said the man, cutting her off.


    Estela stared. "Terms? After all their rebellions, you''re going to make concessions! I just made an army that could wipe them out for good!"


    The man looked to the others. "Leave us."


    Varsus quickly withdrew. Aunt Pan seemed to humor him and drew off. The King looked to Estela flatly. "Gail Arengeth has helped arrange a truce which will allow me access to their armies for good. It will secure my rule over Escor for the future. They will bend the knee and acknowledge House Vortegex as the rightful overlords. In return, your son, by Jomas Endorean, will become King after me."


    "What?!" said Estela in a fury.


    "I am marrying you into their family. Do you question this decision?" asked the King.


    Estela remained silent, looking enraged. But beneath the King''s gaze, she looked down. "No, I just... your letter said nothing about this."


    "Of course, it didn''t," said King Vortegex. "The other nations might have withheld you if they knew we were growing stronger. Now, one other thing: I note the House Gabriel and De Chevlon banners in your company."


    "Yes, Reginald and Varsus volunteered to aid us-" began Estela.


    "Fool," snapped Vortegex. "I would have dismissed them. But their presence would have made controlling the satyrs impossible. Why would you allow their kind with us? I assume you learned nothing at Gel Carn."


    "What did you want me to learn?" asked Estela.


    "Respect and understanding your position, for one," said the King. "A Lady of Escor gives up her sword once married."


    "And you mean to sell me to Stormstrike for an army," snapped Estela.


    "What would you do?" asked the King.


    "Unleash the satyrs on them," said Estela. "Kill the whole family. Raze the fields. Leave no one alive."


    "Set a precedent like that, and you invite a reputation as a mad dog," scoffed the King.


    "The honor of House Vortegex-" began Estela.


    "My every decision is for House Vortegex," snarled King Vortegex. "When you say ''the honor of House Vortegex,'' you mean your personal honor. You want others to regard you as outstanding, to wield a sword in battle even when it is not practical. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your duty is to House Vortegex. Not honor or glory of any nonsense of Harlenor Reunited. What matters is the family and that when we die, our house will be more substantial for it.


    "This marriage will cement our control over Escor. In so doing, it will lay the foundation of a Kingdom that could last a thousand years. And time is pressing. You will marry Prince Jomas Endorean of Stormstrike when you arrive. Then, I will lead our forces to battle against the Dragon Empire.


    "Do you understand?"


    "I don''t think this is-" began Estela.


    "Do you understand?" repeated the King.


    Estela looked down. "Yes, Father."


    Relma had not seen any reason to draw off with the others. She''d been distant and reflected that she technically outranked this man. "You know you''re setting yourself up for future rebellions, right?"


    The King looked up at her like she had grown a second head. "What?"


    "Rule through fear only lasts as long as people are afraid of you," said Relma. "The second they no longer fear you, they''ll carve you to pieces unless they have an incentive not to."


    "And what would you know of such matters, girl?" said the King, drawing near.


    "Well, I did help get Estela that army heading to the Pass of Dragon Bones," said Relma. "I was the weakest party involved in those negotiations, and look at how I came out."


    "Ridiculous," said King Vortegex. "Who is this brat?"


    Estela marched forward. "A girl I have taken on as a squire, Father. She has been invaluable in-"


    "I should have known you''d lack the ability to gain respect," said the King with a snarl. And then he brought around an armored hand to strike Relma across the face. It hurt a lot, and Relma felt blood on her cheek. "Let that remind you to speak to your betters." Then he struck her again. "And that for lying."


    Relma didn''t make a sound. She wasn''t as attached to her body as most people, and she began healing the injury. It wasn''t good.


    "She, she wasn''t lying, Father. She did arrange all this," said Estela. "On my behalf."


    The King looked up. "Then perhaps your choice in subordinates is not altogether worthless. Come, a wedding awaits."


    And he stalked off. Estela moved to Relma. "Relma, don''t say anything to him. Don''t speak at all when you''re with him. I don''t want to lose you."


    "Estela, it''s fine. I''m not going to die," said Relma.


    "But you could!" said Estela. "Relma, once, when I was a child, my younger sister Cadia befriended a village boy and got close to him. They were children, but Father, he... one of his men shot the boy while hunting. It was an accident, but... well, at least that''s what we were told.


    "Early in his reign, a house called Altar rebelled against him. Father took their castle and killed everyone. He threw the Lord''s infant son from the balcony himself."


    "Didn''t you suggest doing exactly the same thing?" asked Relma.


    "I... well, I may have overreacted," Said Estela quickly. "My cousin was killed by the King of Stormstrike. And I panicked.


    "I want my Father to be proud of me."


    "He seems impossible to please," noted Relma.


    Estela sighed. "You have no idea.


    "Relma, I... I want you to stay behind. You''ll be better suited to keeping the satyrs in line anyway."


    "If that''s what you want, Estela," Said Relma.


    "It is," said Estela.


    "I gave you an order," snapped the King.


    "Yes, Father," said Estela. "I am coming."


    And so they parted. Relma decided then and there that King Tyus would set himself up for a wrong end. She just hoped Estela would not be around when it happened.

 Chapter 305 - Twenty-One: The Pass of Dragon Bones

    Relma wasn''t sure why she had said what she''d said to King Tyus. She''d felt as if she''d been speaking to him about his approach in general. Except she''d only known of him doing diplomacy. Perhaps she had been speaking of his treatment of Estela?


    Relma decided to stop being so detached and focus on the now.


    The now soon turned miserable.


    It rained half the time as they walked west along the hills. There was little water in this place, and whenever they came to pools of water, they would drink it dry. The air was chilly and the sky dark, especially when you were near the Ghost Mountains.


    The Ghost Mountains were the worst. They''d come within sight of them soon, and they rose into the sky like a thousand clawed fingers. Winds howled down from them, and the trees around them moved. Speaking of trees, the closer they reached the Ghost Mountains, the nastier they became. Leaves became spikes so you could cut a hand on them.


    And all the while, the army of Escor moved some ways away in their shadow. Relma spent her days healing sprained ankles and helping however she could. It felt odd; she had raised this army, but now she had faded to the background. Varsus spent his days making decisions and organizing the distribution of supplies. Reginald and his men, alongside some of De Cathe''s subordinates, kept the satyrs in line. Sometimes they also negotiated with the warriors.


    Everyone kept busy, and no one was happy.


    Except for the satyrs, of course. All of them had brought wine with them and drank of it greatly. They drank and laughed with eachother, occasionally sparring in the camp. None seemed to care that they were being looked at with obvious distrust.


    Relma hoped Estela was doing well. She felt helpless despite all she''d done. What could she do to help Estela? She supposed that depended on who she was marrying. Estela had obviously decided to go through with it. Tyus seemed utterly unreasonable, or at least dead set.


    Jomas Endorean could be more reasonable.


    That was why she approached Varsus one day as he led from the front. Fayn got there first. "Varsus, I need to ask, who is this Jomas Endorean?"


    "The Prince of the Second Dynasty of Stormstrike," said Varsus. "They are descended from the hill clans who once dwelled in the Dusk Lands and rose in rebellion against Anoa II. They''ve always kept to themselves and have always sought to break free. Even after Harlenor United broke apart, they kept trying."


    "Right, that doesn''t answer my question," said Fayn.


    "The Endorean family is the second dynasty to rule Stormstrike. It was after they wiped out the last one, the Stormstrikes. But the Endoreans broke free during the Escorian Civil War. They were only brought to vassal status," said Varsus. "Uncle and I have been expecting a full-scale war for years."


    "Okay, but who is Jomas Endorean?" asked Fayn.


    Varsus sighed. "He is... not bright."


    "Not bright?" asked Relma.


    Varsus shrugged. "From what I''ve heard, he is a good fighter, and I met him once. He is reasonably nice but generally the last person to arrive at a given conclusion. He misses obvious things and is somewhat slow."


    "Has Estela ever met him?" asked Fayn.


    "You have known Estela as long as myself, Fayn. You tell me," said Varsus,


    Fayn frowned. "Well, it just seems a bit abrupt, is all. He ought to have let her meet the groom first."


    "I''m afraid that King Tyan regards such things as a mere formality," said a kind old voice.


    At that moment, an old man stepped out of the shadow of the hills. The old man''s long white beard was a bit longer. However, his face was smooth as ever, and his gnarled staff tapped the ground as he walked forward.


    "Aren!" cried Relma before running toward him.


    "Gail Arengeth? You''re here," said Varsus, voice cold. "What is going on here?"


    "Nothing pleasant," said Arengeth. "Though you seem to have provided some good news."


    "Did you really arrange that marriage?" asked Relma.


    "It was my only option," said Arengeth regretfully. "I needed to mend the relations between Endorean and Vortegex. A political marriage will cement ties between them. At least long enough to fend off the Dragon Empire.


    "I sent a messenger to Gel Carn to inform you of it, but they must have been waylaid along the way. Most unfortunate, he was a good man."


    "You should have asked Estela first," said Relma.


    "It is Tyan''s right to choose who he wills for his daughter," said Arengeth. "Just as it was his choice not to inform her until now. I''m doing all I can to ensure Escor doesn''t fall to pieces. If Endorean and Vortegex defeat the Dragon Empire together. That may create the foundation of a new Escor. One that isn''t tormented by endless civil war."


    "Why does the Dragon Empire want to get past the Pass of Bones anyway?" asked Fayn. "They''ve been repulsed a dozen times over the centuries."


    Arengeth looked up. "Fayn, you seem to be trying to earn the position you bought."


    "I already did," said Fayn.


    Arengeth frowned. "In any case, the Dragon Empire has a nobility entirely consisting of Red Dragons. Each one controls a certain amount of land and is forbidden from killing one another. Since Dragons never die of old age, the empire must expand.


    "Either that or exile members of its nobility to foreign lands. I''ve dealt with several of those exiles.


    "The Pass of Dragon Bones is the only way to the north. Not unless you head west to the borders of Sorn."


    "But why can''t they just fly over?" asked Relma.


    "Fly over the Ghost Mountains?" asked Arengeth. Everyone gave her a look, and Relma realized she''d said something very foolish.


    "Oh, right, of course," said Relma, remembering the stories she''d heard of those mountains. No one lived in those domains, and everyone held it in terror. Even Erik the Voyager had not managed to cross it.


    At that moment, Reginald rushed up. "Varsus, we''ve still got no word from the supply caravans the Dust Elves promised us. The satyrs brought their own supplies, but I''m concerned we''ll run out."


    Varsus sighed. "Send out foraging parties to look for food. Satyrs are good at such things and keep them moving. But keep them away from the north. There are plenty of plants growing in this region."


    "Why does no one live here?" asked Relma, looking around at the empty wilds. You could see vast tracts of bushes and fields on either side of the camp. Yet she realized she hadn''t seen one farm. "I know we''re near the Ghost Mountains, but couldn''t there be some farms?"


    "The realm itself works against those who try to farm," said Aren. "I suspect Laevian has chosen this land as one of her own. Those who do settle here tend to have bad luck at best. A few hunters eke out a living, but they cut no wood unless it has already fallen."


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "Speaking of which," said Reginald, "I''ve been talking with the satyrs. They are here to die. Their primary hope is to be killed surrounded by thousands of corpses. What if we win without taking too many losses?


    "They''ll still be here?"


    "We could unleash them on the Dragon Empire and let them rape, pillage, and burn indefinitely," said Fayn. "That will kill them and weaken our enemies."


    "That''s a bit ruthless," said Relma.


    "Do you want them destroying our enemies or our friends?" asked Fayn.


    "I would not call King Tyus and myself friends," said Varsus, sounding faintly offended.


    "I''d rather not resort to that," said Arengeth. "Even if there is no other way, the Dragon Empire is nearly impossible to capture. Dragons are not easy to defeat, and hundreds are in the Dragon Empire. There will almost certainly be an easier target." He paused. "Where is Pandora? I meant to speak with her?"


    "She disappeared," said Fayn with a scoff. "As usual. Something about contacts."


    "Did she say when she''d be back?" asked Aren.


    "No," said Fayn with a sigh. "Ajax went out on ahead."


    "He went to the pass?" asked Arengeth. "He might be shot on sight. Escor has hated his kind for many years."


    "What do you mean ''his kind?''" asked Relma.


    "I meant to say that Escor has bad blood with the Broods of Telix," said Arengeth.


    "What happens if he is killed?" asked Fayn.


    "...Then we have a serious problem," said Aren.


    "Don''t worry," said Relma. "Ajax slipped past all the guards in Gel Carn when he first kidnapped me. He''ll be able to slip over some wall."


    "Slip over?" asked Aren.


    "Yeah," said Relma, "he said he was going to scout the Dragon Empire."


    "Why didn''t you say anything?" asked Varsus.


    "Ajax does whatever he wants," said Relma. "And it wasn''t like it mattered anyway. He said he''d meet back up with us."


    "This still leaves the matter of the satyrs," said Varsus.


    "I say we use the satyrs as arrow fodder," said Fayn. "Give them all the worst jobs and send them into every hellish fight we want to spare the men from." Drawing out her axe she brought it down and cleaved it into the barren earth.


    "That is not tactically sound," said Varsus, adjusting his cloak. "And I liked your first suggestion better. Lucius greatly controls the Road of Ancient Stone, and these satyrs dwell within it. Let''s do all we can to conserve our forces.


    "Once we are victorious, we will seek to do as much damage to the Dragon Empire as possible. Historically, there have been several successful raids into it. So if properly commanded, we could cause great damage."


    "That sounds fun to me," said Reginald. "If we coordinate with the Escorian army, we might be able to obliterate their ability to raise armies."


    "Do you think we could try to devise a strategy that is not based on sacking towns and killing off our own men?" asked Relma.


    "They want to die," said Fayn with a shrug.


    Arengeth sighed. "I find this discussion distasteful, Gabriel. But it is a question we can contemplate later. For now, the Pass of Dragon Bones lies ahead."


    Relma could only hope the Pass of Dragon Bones would be more pleasant than this place. She suspected she''d be disappointed.


    On they went until they saw a gap in the mountains. The pass was sheer, and all the ground here was burned and barren. Several villages could be seen before it, and there, at the mouth, was a long stone wall with many buildings. It was a fortress stretching between the mountains.


    Flames were rising, and men were fighting on top of it. The banner of Escor was shaking alongside another. It was a yellow banner with the symbol of a spear passing through a dragon, and men were fighting to defend it.


    "The castle is under attack!" said Reginald


    "Forward, quickly!" cried Varsus, drawing his sword. "We must reinforce the walls! To the Pass of Dragon Bones!"


    And then there was a charge. Relma went for her sword and ran forward with Varsus and the others. As the armies surged forward en masse, Aren raised a hand, and a great wind kicked up behind them. It pushed them forward, even as the wall was nearly taken.


    Then the satyrs reached it. Howling and screaming, they surged up the open stairs and tore into the attackers. Relma was glad Varsus had instructed them as to who they should be fighting. Otherwise, she was sure they''d have killed everyone on the wall. Even as she neared the steps, she saw them tearing into the attackers.


    One of their corpses was thrown down from the wall and landed at her feet, even as she slowed. He was a muscular, tanned man wearing only a metal mask, a loincloth, and a reverse sickle blade in one hand. His stomach had been carved open.


    Relma felt sick but looked up to where the satyrs were streaming across the wall, turning the tide. They might need her; Lightning Trail alone could inspire them to victory, though not her. Raising it, she rushed up the steps and found Varsus fighting with one of the enemies.


    Before Relma could think, someone cut the man down from behind. He wore yellow and had a brown stubble. He looked at Varsus, then at the combat. Even now, more of the enemy were streaming up to fight. The enemy forces were vast and seemed to be pressing up the walls.


    "Satyrs? What is the meaning of this?" asked the man.


    "We''re here to reinforce you," said Varsus.


    "To death and blood!" cried a satyr from the fray. "For Lucius, the Ancestor!"


    "For Harlenor Reunited!" cried Varsus, raising his sword and rushing into the fray.


    "For Harlenor Reunited!" cried the man with a shrug.


    "Lightning Trail! Lightning Trail for Harlenor!" cried Relma, making a show of rushing in so people could see the sword. She immediately started looking for people to heal, ducking under sword swings. She made her way through the fray as best she could.


    There were plenty of wounded and dead as well.


    She crossed the wall and came up another set of stairs to a gatehouse. There were the two gatehouses, and men were fighting all around them. One man fell back with his throat slashed, and she stooped to heal him. As she did, a tan man stabbed her with a spear. Relma parried the first thrust, but the second went into her leg.


    Screaming, she looked up as the man drew the spear to finish her.


    And then a shadow loomed over him. The man turned around, and then a mace hit him. His head sailed into the distance in a shattered mess as blood spewed from the stump. Even as his body collapsed, an armored giant of a man turned and used his mace. He swung it around, and with each stroke, he smashed men to pieces.


    Armor was useless against him. Shields simply broke without even impeding his blows. And every impact reduced men to bloody chunks as he waded through silently. Where he went, the enemy fled.


    Then he turned and moved toward her. Relma remembered her wound and tried to heal it as he kneeled down. Even kneeling, he towered over her, and one of his hands seemed like it could crush her skull. He touched her, and the wound healed. But his hand clenched on her shoulder, and she winced in pain.


    He drew back and removed his helmet. Beyond was revealed an expressionless, brown-haired face with dull eyes. "I am sorry. Mother tells me I should warn others before doing that. Who are you?"


    Relma got up, raising Lightning Trail. "I''m Relma Artorious, the Heir of Kings. Who are you?"


    He looked at her warily and put his helmet back on. "... You''re not supposed to be here. The Heir of Kings is a legend, so you don''t exist."


    "Well, we always have. It''s more of a title than a person," said Relma.


    "I hope so," said the man.


    Relma looked around and realized that the enemy had been repulsed. They fled down the ladders and away from the wall, and the satyrs were fast behind. Looking at this giant, she realized his face had looked young. About Estela''s age. "Who are you?"


    "My name is Jomas Endorean," said the giant. "I''m here to help fight."


    Relma frowned. "But aren''t you supposed to be getting married?"


    "I got a letter that said that," said Jomas, voice full as he kneeled by a wounded man. "But this seemed more important."


    "The whole Alliance relies on your presence," said Relma, joining him in healing people.


    "Alliances break. We should fight," said Jomas.


    So began the healing. As Relma walked through the bodies, she saw the signs of Jomas'' rampage everywhere. Wherever she looked, dozens of corpses smashed and marred by his mace. They lay all along the wall, and men stared at him in awe. Even the satyrs looked impressed.


    "Jomas Endorean fights like a monster," said a man. "How can... how can anyone do this?"


    "He''s a bit simple," said another. "but, well, very good in a fight."


    "I''ve seen people with the blood of gods do less," said another man.


    As Relma worked at the wounded, she looked from the wall. There, she saw the satyrs and many other forces meeting the enemy. Varsus, Fayn, De Cathe, and Reginald could be seen at the front, those who had come with them fighting. Once more, the enemy army broke and fled.


    The satyrs rushed after them, even as Varsus called the Harlenorians to a halt. Heedless of the orders, the hordes of satyrs rushed toward the edge of the pass. Beyond it, Relma could see green.


    And then there came the beat of sings. From the clouds above descended fantastic red beasts like Wrynncurth. But far larger; the smallest were more than three times as large. Their wings reached nearly as far as the edge of the pass as they dove low. Opening their mouths, they unleashed a wave of flame on the satyrs. The entire front ranks were burned to cinder in mere moments.


    The others scrambled backward quickly as the dragons swooped back. The armies reformed and fled back. But the dragons drew back and perched at the edge of the pass as the men ran back.


    "Damned dragons!" snapped a satyr on the wall. "Fight on the ground like men!"


    "Why wouldn''t they just attack this fortress?" asked Relma, feeling sick.


    "Look," said Jomas, pointing down the wall. Relma followed his hand and saw what he was motioning at. The entire wall was lined with heavy machines bristling with spears. "Those can pierce dragon armor. Aren enchanted them to always strike true. You''d have to destroy those before the Reds could try for a pass."


    Aren. Relma ought to go find him. "Thank you. I have to go."


    She wandered through the wall, healing the wounded wherever she found them. Eventually, she came to Aren, speaking with a soldier. "Where is your commander?" She heard him say.


    "Commander Telbus is dead," said the man. "A Tharatan stabbed him. I pulled him out, but he was dead before I could get him to the healers."


    "Then who is in charge?" asked Aren. "Where is his second in command?"


    "Dead as well," said the man. "Most people on the wall are dead. We were hard-pressed.


    Especially with Tyus pulling off a lot of men to try and stop you."


    Where was Aunt Pan? She should have been here. Aren sighed long and hard. "Very well then, I suppose I must take command myself."


    "...Can you do that?" asked Relma.


    "I don''t have authority overlords," said Aren. "But the Dragon Watch was established by me. They answer to me as well." He sighed. "There you are." Then Aren shook his head sadly and looked at the man. "Who is the highest-ranking officer left alive?"


    "Captain Tren De Cathe," said the man. "He''s in the healing rooms."


    "Then I''ll see to him at once," said Aren. "Relma, come with me and help me heal any remaining."


    Relma hurried behind him as he made his way off the wall and to a door built into the gatehouse. As he knocked, Relma shifted Lightning Trail beside her. "Who is the Dragon Watch?"


    "An organization I established some decades ago to protect this pass," said Aren. "Or was it centuries? Whatever the case, they operate independently of any lord. And they are forbidden from fighting Harlenorians."


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "During the Civil War, we were afraid the Dragon Empire would conquer us while we were divided," said Aren. "They almost did, so I was asked for help. This was my way of helping. Though Pandora always felt it was the wrong move."


    "What did she feel was the right move?" asked Relma.


    "It was a terrible idea and not at all pleasant," said Aren, opening the door.


    "Where is Aunt Pan?" asked Relma. "I haven''t seen her all day?"


    "I sent her on another errand," said Aren. "We generally don''t stay in the same place for very long. Two lords here have been having a dispute, and we need someone to mediate. Since I am needed here, the duty fell to here."


    In they went, and then there was a shrill woman''s scream.


    "That came from the healing room," said Aren. "Follow me and keep Lightning Trail close."


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 Chapter 306 - Twenty-Two: The Dragon Empire

    Relma and Aren scurried through the halls as quickly as possible, worrying they might be too late. Coming to a door, Aren flung it open and marched into a long hall. There were many beds upon which wounded lay, and healers were there. But many were looking on in horror at several satyrs wearing bloodied bandages. Even now, they shambled toward the door.


    "What goes on here?" asked Aren.


    "Undead, Lord Arengeth!" cried a woman. "The corpses of the dead satyrs have risen from the grave!"


    The corpses shambled past Aren, making for the door with a groan. Relma stepped to one side and realized what was happening. "They aren''t attacking anyone. They''re just trying to get out."


    On they went, and Aren followed after the creatures and out to the gatehouse. As they exited the doors, they found many more walking dead. The creatures were all satyrs, gathering before the gates in great ranks. They pushed against them as men looked on with bows and arrows.


    "What is happening here?" said the brown-bearded man from before. Though he walked with a crutch and a drawn sword.


    "Quickly open the doors," said Aren.


    "What?" said the man.


    "Open the doors and let them out of the fort," said Aren.


    "You think they''ll just leave?" asked the man.


    "Do it now," said Aren. "Before they become violent."


    The doors were swung open, and the bodies of the dead marched on out by the hundreds. How many had died to make such an army? How many would die to them before they were destroyed? What was the good of all this blood, really?


    Beyond the walls, Relma saw many other bodies rising from the fields. In ranks, the dead marched toward the entrance of the pass. Some of the bodies were blackened and charred from dragon fire. It gave her chills, and she was glad she was not fighting them.


    Aren sighed in the longsuffering tone of one who had seen it all before. Which, of course, he had. This is what Pandora described. The dead rising again. I haven''t seen anything like this since the last Age of Withering."


    "Where are they going?" asked a man.


    "Toward blood and death before the end!" cried Shren, coming forward. "Go, my brethren! Tear the servants of dragons apart! Let this blood water these parched lands!


    "Who are we fighting anyway?"


    "The Dragon Empire, a nation ruled by the Red Dragon Flight," said the man.


    "Why would humans follow dragons?" said Shren.


    "I don''t know," said the man. "Nobody knows anything about the Dragon Empire. Few people who pass through these gates ever come back." Then he looked up to see De Cathe emerging through the gates. "Cousin, it''s been a long time!"


    "Tren, you''ve grown since last we met," said De Cathe. Relma wondered how they knew one another beyond blood relation. "How is life in the Dragon Watch?"


    "Reasonable," said Tren. "I''m at my third year, so one more, and I''ll be able to move on." So you had to serve the Dragon Watch for four years at least. Useful information to remember if Relma ever wanted someone out of the way.


    "You could stay longer. It is an honorable profession," said De Cathe. And one not easily dropped at that.


    "I don''t want to," admitted Tren, and Relma did not blame him there. What she''d seen so far had been bloody. "The endless raids do little to help my temperament. And now that House Endorean is bending the knee, there should be peace."


    "You still hold feelings for Isara?" asked De Cathe.


    "I do," said Tren. "When things have settled down, I hope to marry her. What of your quest for the sword? Any regrets?" Relma decided she ought to help him and began working to heal his body from a distance. It was difficult, and the focus made it all the harder.


    "I travel in the company of the Heir of Kings, Tren," said De Cathe. "That is honor enough. In truth, I sought to draw Lightning Trail because a dream drew me there. House De Cathe is said to have a distant relation to Anoa II, so I thought we might qualify.


    "Instead, Estela, Ronald, and Relma found it."


    "What do you think of King Tyus'' decision?" asked Tren.


    "I believe it could have been handled better," said De Cathe. "King Tyus is a hard man with little in the way of sympathy. Yet he didn''t even acknowledge her accomplishments."


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    "Well, whether he did or not, it''s better if we aren''t at war with Endorean," said Tren. "I remember my first battle. I fought a militiaman in a skirmish, one of those who worked for the Endorean Lords. He tried to take me prisoner, even though we both knew he didn''t stand a chance.


    "I remember I stabbed him in the chest, and he screamed and screamed.


    "Then and there, I never want to fight another Escorian again. We should be brethren, as all Harlenorians are." Relma wasn''t sure such romantic notions had much basis in reality. If the Tournament of Kings was any indication, rivalry persisted. But a sense of brotherhood among Harlenorians seemed like something worth working toward.


    Yet how to do it? Relma would have difficulty moving about and consolidating control. Let alone moving hearts and minds. Estela would be absolutely critical here. Relma had no hope of working with Escor without her as a friend, which would weaken her in Antion and Haldren. No, she needed all three nations for this.


    "And what of those you fight here?" asked De Cathe.


    "They aren''t really human," said Tren quickly. "Yes, they have the shape of one, but you can tell from how they move that nothing is left inside. I don''t know what the Dragons did to these people, but these things are worthy only of death.


    "I''ve seen them eat men alive. They''re like animals."


    "You realize that is a compliment, don''t you?" said a low growl.


    Tren jumped, dropping his crutch and finding himself able to watch. Ajax had slipped through the gates and was crouching behind him. His mouth was stained with blood, and his hair was more messy than usual. He looked in a truly foul mood.


    "What the..." said Tren, raising his sword. "What the devil is that!"


    Ajax said nothing, merely facing him down as though daring him to try something. Tren kept his sword up, and a long silence ensued as the two matched.


    "Stay your blade, Tren," said De Cathe, raising a hand with a laugh. "This is Ajax, one of our company. Ajax, I did not see you during the battle. Where have you been?"


    Ajax stood up and wiped his mouth. "Scouting. I slipped out into the wilderness during the retreat and spoke with the local wolves. Got a look at the enemy army, though it was a near thing.


    "I did get a particularly fat rabbit, though. I found them in a farmer''s cage."


    "What are they doing?" asked Aren.


    "Feeding the wounded to the dragons for one thing," said Ajax. "The wolves tell me they do this all the time."


    "All the time, what do you mean?" asked Relma. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "According to the wolves, when a baby is born who is disfigured or flawed, they are fed to the dragons," said Ajax. "When someone is permanently injured, feeding yourself to the dragons is tradition. Every year, a festival is where the most beautiful women in the region are fed to the local dragon.


    "Also, criminals sentenced to execution are devoured by dragons. In fact, most crimes are punishable by being eaten by a dragon."


    "That''s monstrous," said Tren.


    "You do realize that you leave the flawed babies in Escor to the wolves, don''t you?" asked Ajax deadpan. "Or at least you used to. Good times. My packmates tell me they taste good."


    "You didn''t really," said Relma.


    "Of course not." snapped Ajax in irritation. "I''m part human, so I''m not allowed to eat human babies. The other wolves never let me hear the end of that."


    "I believe he meant the fair maidens being devoured," said De Cathe.


    "Why would the people ever stand for this?" asked Relma.


    "Well, they believe that the greatest of them will be reincarnated as dragons," said Ajax. "Or reincarnated as part of the upper class, the nobility who aren''t subject to being eaten by dragons."


    "How have you learned this much so quickly?" asked Aren, sounding curious.


    "Father sent wolf scouts through into the Dragon Empire when he had holdings in Escor," said Ajax. "The Dragons scorch any human caravan or force that gets past these mountains. But wolves generally go unnoticed.


    "And I''m good at finding my way through places without being seen. Though I had one or two close calls here, it happens in unfamiliar territory."


    "How is it possible that nobody knows anything about the Dragon Empire until now?" asked Relma. It seemed like a tremendous oversight to make. Especially given how long hostilities had been fought between them. Then again, Escor had been in chaos for a long time, even before the Escorian Civil War. And before that, there had been the Haldrenian and Babarassian raids to contend with.


    "As the wolfman said, the Dragons burn anyone who tries to head through our part of the pass," said Tren. "They tell us nothing about themselves. The last time we got a messenger from them was, I believe, two hundred years ago."


    "Two hundred years?" asked Relma. "And you''ve been fighting all this time."


    "More or less," said Tren. "Sometimes we get the idea of trying to invade, but the Tharatan know this land well and ambush them. And if it''s not the Tharatan, it''s the Dragons."


    "But surely they must have tried to contact you when they got through the pass," said Relma. "Aren, haven''t you ever talked with them?"


    "I have, once or twice," said Aren. "But honestly, the border with the Dragon Empire has always been a lower priority for me. Two hundred years ago, I did speak with Queen Vanessa, but a lot could have changed in that time.


    "As for negotiations, they seized cities and killed or enslaved the entire populace. Those who weren''t fed to the dragons were worked to death in mines or, if lucky, taken as house slaves."


    "They don''t try to learn our language; all of those who spoke with us were imbued with the will of Vrengar," said Tren. "They never surrender, nor do they offer terms of surrender."


    "How do they plan to conquer anything if they can''t negotiate peace?" asked Relma.


    "Perhaps you could ask them," said Tren. "If you want to brave the pass and talk to the Dragons. Assuming they don''t destroy you."


    "No, I can''t do that," said Relma before getting an excellent idea. "But I know someone who can. Aren, I need your help to send a letter to Adrian Wrynncurth in the Dusk Lands."


    "To what end?" asked Aren.


    "Wrynncurth and his children are the descendants of Smyngoth. And Smyngoth was the mentor of Vrengar. Vrengar is the God of the Red Dragon Flight." said Relma. "Or at least he ascended into Godhood. So maybe they''ll listen to him."


    "Well, it may be worth the effort, though I doubt we''ll stop centuries of war," said Aren.


    "What will you tell Shren if peace does break out?" asked Ajax, eyeing where the satyrs were beginning to hack up some Tharatan corpses.


    "Um... well... I''m sure I can figure something out," said Relma.


    "You might want to do that now," said Aren. "Satyrs are not known for their forethought."


    Some ways away, the satyrs began to feast on the bodies of the dead. Relma averted her eyes and tried to come up with a backup plan. She had the feeling she would need one badly and soon.

 Chapter 307 - Twenty-Three: Bloodlines

    Father was in his tent.


    They were halfway to the capital and near the Castle of Tanus Gar, where Estela had stopped. That had been years ago when she''d first been sent away. Now, she was returning and about to be married. On some level, Estela knew this was a good thing. She was being given a marriage that would ensure the security of Escor and Vortegex.


    Her son would be king. And the money she had brought with her could go a long way to ensuring House Vortegex''s security. It could raise armies or build roads.


    So she told herself as she parted the tent flap and entered. There was Father at his table. He''d brought it with him in one of the ox carts. Now, he was sitting at it, his quill scratching as he wrote one message after another. Estela sat down before him and waited.


    And waited.


    At last, King Tyus looked up to her, narrowing his eyes. He always used that expression when meeting with her. Estela had grown up on it. "You requested a meeting with me?"


    Why had she had to request one? She was his daughter, and she''d more than proved herself.


    "Yes, I, I was wondering how things were going in the castle?" asked Estela.


    "Have you not been paying attention girl?" asked Father.


    "No, I meant I wanted to know how the people in the castle were doing," said Estela quickly, feeling intimidated. "Like Teran and my sister, Cadia. How are my brothers?"


    Tyus eyed her with a look that said she was wasting his time. How was this a waste? "You choose to waste my time so you could ask me questions you could learn from any of the guards?"


    "I... I felt you would have a more perceptive perspective on the subject," said Estela, looking away.


    Tyus remained silent a moment. Then he set the quill down and leaned back, scowling. "Cadia has married the heir to the De Cathe family name, Esmond. It is a good match that solidified their loyalty to us. We are to go through her home tomorrow."


    "Does she ever ask about me?" asked Estela.


    "I haven''t seen her in some years," said Tyus without looking up. "That matter is irrelevant.


    "Sending you to Gel Carn seems to have been an excellent investment. I have gained a powerful Alliance which helped solidify my hold here. And your presence in Gel Carn has born other fruit."


    Well, it was some acknowledgment of her achievements. More than she had expected. "Thank you, Father."


    "Now, about the Heir of Kings.," said Tyus, changing the subject. "Who is she, and does she represent a threat?"


    Did she represent? Estela felt annoyed. Couldn''t he at least answer her questions first? "You punched her in the face yesterday."


    "What?" said Tyus, going very still.


    "She is my squire. That''s why she felt so free to cite her opinion," said Estela. "Technically, she outranks us."


    "Technicality and reality are very different things," snarled Tyus. Then he looked at one gloved hand. "Still, her very existence is a threat to House Vortegex." Estela shifted beneath his gaze, and he marked the movement. "You have a different view?"


    "Relma is too nice for her own good," said Estela. "But she is also very cunning and in a situation where she needs us. I am... close to her. And she is set to inherit Gel Carn someday.


    "When she does, we could swear a nominal oath of fealty. No tribute or anything. But she could act as a figurehead in case of crisis."


    "You would subjugate us to a foreign power," said Tyus incredulously. "I would have thought you''d learned better than that." S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No, I mean... you said yourself that technicality and reality are two different things," said Estela. "If she becomes High King, we can use her to ensure our independence."


    "House Vortegex is subordinate to no one," said Tyus. "Not a king, council of lords, or even gods. We defeated House Gabriel, and we outwitted House De Chevlon. We will not subjugate ourselves to any foreigner. To do so would destroy all our hopes for the future."


    "And what are those?" asked Estela, not liking the sound of this.


    "Once we have solidified control over Escor, we may turn our attention abroad," said Tyus.


    "Perhaps conquer territory from the Dragons. Or seek control over Haldren. I gather there is some instability, King Gavin fears House Gabriel.


    "The snake might provide us a pretense for future victory.


    "You have met the heir to House Gabriel, have you not?"


    "Yes, I met William Gabriel," said Estela, remembering the proud bastard.


    "Give me your observations," said Tyus. "You must have made some."


    Estela paused. "He''s proud, dangerous, and extremely skilled. But he is also a healer. On his way back, he went from village to village and healed all the sick and injured."


    "Impossible," scoffed Tyus. "Even the most experienced healers cannot accomplish such a feat. He should have been occupied for weeks."


    "I saw him run Joseph Korlac through the chest during the Tournament of Kings," said Estela. "He healed him moments later and didn''t even look tired. He is also solid and capable of performing incantations."


    Tyus paused. "Then he may well be worthy of his heritage. Unlike some others, I might name."


    Estela had had enough. He had yet to tell her anything at all. "Where are my brothers, Father? Where are Otto and Rinseld? Why is some heir of Endorean going to inherit the Kingdom instead of your rightful sons."


    Tyus scowled all the deeper. "Otto is dead. As for Rinseld, he is out of the question."


    Otto dead? How was this possible. Why hadn''t Estela been told? "How did Otto die? Why didn''t you tell me?"


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    "It was five years ago in a battle with the Dragon Empire," said Tyus. "The fool tried to launch an invasion. He killed a few dragons, burned a few towns, and then was caught in an ambush. He killed many of our soldiers in that insanity, and I had to put down another round of rebellions."


    "How could you not tell me of this?" asked Estela. "Why was no word sent to Gel Carn?"


    "What difference would it have made if you''d known?" shot back Tyus. "I had dozens of more important matters to attend to. Any one of which could have spelled the end of the Kingdom if not addressed.


    "You may mourn on your own time. The dead do not care whether we lament them or not. For now, you should get some rest."


    It was a dismissal. Estela rose and bowed. "...Yes, Father."


    So she turned and walked out. Otto had always been so kind to her, helping her with swordplay. Now, he was dead.


    Estela spent the next hour or so polishing her armor and weapons on a rock. As she did so, she looked up the path. Soon, she''d have no more use for weapons or armor. But she wanted them to look as good as she could make it.


    Then, she saw a troop of men approaching the camp. Carried between them was a litter with frilly white curtains on it. Estela sheathed her sword as the litter neared her. What was going on here?


    "Estela, Estela, is that you?" asked a voice.


    The curtain was thrust aside as a pretty blonde woman peered out, and Estela knew her. She smiled as she recognized her sister. "Cadia, you''ve grown up."


    "We both have, I suppose," said Cadia. "That armor suits you a great deal. A shame you won''t be wearing it anymore."


    "Yes, a shame," said Estela. "What is the purpose of this litter?"


    "Oh, I''m told it is a fashion within Dinis in the Far East," said Cadia. "I rather enjoy it. My dear husband can afford many luxuries."


    "Father told me you married," said Estela.


    "Oh yes, Esmond is a powerful and highly influential knight," said Cadia. "Very intelligent and rich. I''m the envy of all the ladies of court. My sympathies in that regard."


    "Well, that''s good to know," said Estela, noting that the last part seemed a jab. She chose to ignore it.


    "Of course, I''m afraid you''ve had less luck," said Cadia, making another. "You see, the rumor is that Prince Jomas Endorean is a simpleton. It is powerful and bold, perhaps of some use for looks. But no cunning."


    "Cadia, did you come here to greet or mock me?" asked Estela.


    "Oh, I''m sorry if I seemed insensitive; you are marrying a Prince of Endorean after all," said Cadia. "I''m merely here to give my regards to Father. He''s had Esmond doing a lot of important things."


    "You are mocking me," surmised Estela.


    "Really, Estela, what could make you think that?" asked Cadia.


    "I wouldn''t advise doing that, Cadia. Some of us actually paid attention to the practice field," said Estela coldly.


    "Really, sister, must you jest so," asked Cadia, stepping out. "Here I''ve come to greet you, and you repay me angrily. You were never going to amount to anything as a knight anyway. We both know you''ve only done as well as you did because of the Heir of Kings.


    "You really ought to behave in a more ladylike fashion."


    "How many people have you killed, Cadia?" asked Estela.


    However Estela had said it, it got Cadia''s attention. She looked suddenly at Estela, appearing nervous. "None, of course. I ply my hand at the craft at peace."


    "Stare down an army of soul-devouring demons. Then tell me I''m unladylike," said Estela, feeling a cold fury, and she put her hand to her sword. "Until then, leave me alone."


    "Very well then," said Cadia, freezing and stepping back a pace. "I understand this must be a stressful period. I''ll see you at the wedding." And she moved off.


    Estela sat down by her armor. "Bitch," she snarled.


    Cadia did not talk to Estela on the way back out. However, when she did, she looked furious and gave Estela a vicious glare on her way out. Estela guessed that she had not known that Estela''s son would be King. No doubt Cadia was expecting for herself to become King someday.


    Father came out just as she finished cleaning her armor. He looked in a good mood now; his scowl was not as prevalent. He looked at her. "Estela, are you prepared?"


    "Yes," said Estela.


    Tyus nodded. "Good. Ready your things; we will continue on to Carn Ganus. There, your fianc¨¦e will meet you."


    "Of course, he will," said Estela.


    They quickly traveled onward for the next few days, skipping Cadia''s home. Father had always traveled quickly. At last, they came to Carn Ganus, sitting on the hill like usual. It is narrow with tall towers and surrounded by farmland. The farms were in much better shape than last time; there probably hadn''t been any raids. Several new buildings had been raised. But the farmers, seeing them marching, were quick to run indoors.


    And on the gates was the banner of House Vortegex, a white dragon coiled over the remains of a red. But next to it was another banner. The Silver Dragon of House Endorean is on a black background. The doors opened for them, and a woman walked out to meet them. She had silver hair and looked to have once been very beautiful. But her face was careworn and wrinkled, and she wore a sword.


    As Tyus approached, they nodded to one another. "King Tyus, you return. And with you, the bride-to-be."


    "I am Lady Estela Vortegex, yes," said Estela, guessing her to be Queen Endorean and wanting to offend. She remembered a time when these farmlands were all aflame. "And you are?"


    "Queen Margaret Endorean, I believe I will be your Mother-in-law soon," said the Queen with a smile.


    "I see," said Estela, looking for something more interesting. If Father would treat her with no courtesy, why should Estela treat her most hated enemy with it? She saw a servant with shaggy black hair and realized she recognized him. "Teran, Teran, is that you?"


    She rushed up to him, and he flinched and looked up. Finally, he bowed his head. "I am honored you remember me, Lady Estela."


    "Of course, I remember you," said Estela, unsheathing her pack. "Could you help me take my pack to my room? I''ve been carrying this all day."


    Teran shifted. "I would not presume to do so without authorization from the King, milady."


    Estela sighed. "Very well then."


    She turned to walk back to Father and didn''t bother to ask. He looked furious at her lack of cordiality. Estela looked flat back at him. So it was alright for him to sell her off without the formality of a by-your-leave, and she had to obey. But when meeting with the worst traitors in Escorian history, she had to be courteous.


    Tyus and Estela continued to look at each other. Margaret looked to Estela, who turned her gaze to Margaret and did her best to will her into disappearing. Finally, Margaret looked at Tyus.


    "King Tyus, about the matter of the dowry. It is not much of a concern. The peace resulting from the union will no doubt provide a far better one than any treasury."


    "Happily, that will no longer be an issue," said Tyus. "House Vortegex has recently come into a great deal of money. One of our knights won a tournament in Gel Carn and donated it to our treasury."


    Estela felt a cold fury go through her. Her hard-won money was to be spent propping up this farce instead of on an army. "Yes. Yes, I did."


    Tyus shifted his focus to Margaret. "Now, where is the groom-to-be?"


    Margaret shifted herself. "Unfortunately, Jomas has not arrived yet. I went on ahead of the company to ensure I was there. But somehow, his entourage has not arrived."


    "I see," said Tyus. "Well, the journey through these lands is not fully safe. We may use this chance to plan the wedding."


    "A contract," said Estela flatly, an idea coming to her.


    "What?" said Margaret.


    "A Sornian custom of marriage," said Estela. "In Sorn, all they care about is money and power. So when they do a marriage, it isn''t necessary to invoke the gods. Or even to expect the bride and groom to be faithful to each other. Even a priest is considered optional.


    "You just have to sign a contract together. Then you get all the effects of marriage without having to have any of the responsibilities." She stopped just short of suggesting it. "It''s purely economic, you see. Any vows they take aren''t considered binding. At least save insofar as they affect your reputation."


    "Yes, well," said Margaret, glancing to Tyus. "I''d like to think that we hold ourselves to a higher standard than Sorn."


    "Father, may I please explore the home of my youth?" asked Estela, sick of Margaret''s presence.


    "Is there a reason you could not have made this unnecessary diversion before we came here?" asked Tyus flatly. "You will not spend any time in this place before you leave for Fleims anyway."


    "I find myself overwhelmed by it all, Father, " said Estela. "Please, just let me walk."


    Margaret met Tyus'' gaze. "...I believe it''s a perfectly reasonable request, Tyus. She has been gone a long time. I would hate to interfere with the joy of her homecoming."


    "Thank you," said Estela flatly, wishing the woman and all her family dead and worse.


    Then she marched back to where Teran was watching with increasing concern. "Teran, can I speak with you in private?"


    "Yes," said Teran. "Of course."


    He led her away and showed her many of the old haunts. As they did, Estela enjoyed the sights and sounds. Things she had left behind long ago. Gel Carn was a far more pleasant castle, but at the same time, this was where she had been born. Here was where Mother had shown her how to hold a sword. That parapet was where Otto had taken her to look out over the return of their armies from victory.


    "What happened with Rinseld?" asked Estela at last.


    Teran paused. "Well, the truth is Estela, we don''t know."


    "What do you mean you don''t know?" asked Estela.


    "He... well, the King wanted him to become a mage in Magicora to the north," said Teran. "But reports came in that Rinseld spent most of his days playing the harp. He was taught the trade by a Dust Elf named Rusara.


    "Well, Tyus called him back to help in some of the wars after Otto died, and he... he just vanished. Disappeared from Magicora. Nobody knows where he is now, but there are rumors."


    "What rumors?" asked Estela.


    "Some say he went north to Haldren as a bard," said Teran.


    Estela nodded. "Rinseld always hated fighting. And Father never forgave him for it. What about Cadia? We... spoke earlier."


    "Well, after you left, milady, she began to change," said Teran. "At first, she was angry and bitter, but then she just stopped talking to us as equals like you and she used to. Then she started being more aloof, and just before she was married off, she was, well... truly unbearable with everyone but her handmaidens."


    "Father, did he ever speak of me?" asked Estela.


    Teran looked all the more uncomfortable. "I, well, I''m not normally in the King''s presence. But servants are largely beneath his notice. King Tyus seemed pleased when he spoke of you in his presence."


    So he was proud of her, even if he wouldn''t admit it. Estela sighed. "I wish he''d tell me that much directly."


    "Lady Estela, you traveled with the Heir of King''s, didn''t you?" asked Teran. "Do you think the prophecy is going to come true? Will Harlenor Reunited come about?"


    "Over my Father''s dead body," said Estela. "Show me the rest of the grounds."


    Today was just the worst.

 Chapter 308 - Twenty-Four: Preparations

    The message was sent in good time. Then came the waiting, and that was the worst part of it.


    Relma was concerned at any time that things would go from relative peace to violence. The satyr''s good mood gave way to boredom, and men gave them uneasy glances. A few scuffles nearly broke out between them and the men at various points. At the same time, the funerals and cleanup from the battle were underway. Varsus got called into places to mediate disputes between them and the soldiers. Relma believed the fortress had not been built to house this many people. As a result, the army camp stretched out behind, and letters were being sent constantly.


    "Will we be able to feed them all?" asked Relma, reading through some documents on logistics. Her ability to read had gotten a lot better lately, but she was having trouble with this book''s scrawl.


    "I hope so," said Varsus, adjusting his gauntlet and stretching his neck. Standing up from the heavy chair, he loosened the sword out of habit. The man always seemed to be checking himself and others. "An army is difficult to keep in the field, however. I''ve been arranging shipments from Gel Carn to supplement those De Cathe arranged.


    "The satyrs, however, are restless. Or so Reginald says. Now that they''ve tasted blood, they want more."


    "Then what will we do?" asked Relma. Privately, she wondered if Varsus was as in control as he pretended to be. Or was he putting on a bold front? So far, he hadn''t led them astray, but she doubted he was as in control as he pretended.


    "For now?" asked Varsus, letting go of his sword and adjusting his cloak. "I want you to go talk to your friend, Shren. Ask him what they will do if they survive this war."


    Relma blinked and thought the question insensitive. "That''s a bit dark."


    "It''s a question we need to ask at some point," said Varsus.


    Relma supposed Varsus was right. Since Shren and his associates were a very violent and brutal collection of people. So Relma went to find Shren and found him on the wall, leaning on his falchion. He was smoking a pipe, gazing at the remnants of a pyre¡ªwhere many bodies had been burned. Some were still burning.


    "So, Shren, can I ask you something?" asked Relma.


    "Of course," said Shren.


    "If the war was won without all of your warriors being killed, what would you do?" asked Relma.


    "We would launch a mass assault on our enemies, slaughtering all who would dare halt our crusade!" said Shren, raising a fist for a mark of strength. "And if you were to stand before us, we would be forced to kill you."


    Relma decided that he answered the question very well. Actually, it was better than she''d have hoped. And judging by the cheers from the other satyrs, it was well mirrored by the other troops. "...Well, we''ll have to find a way to make sure you all die then."


    "Are you planning to murder us?" asked Shren, curious sounding.


    "No!" said Relma quickly. She wondered why he seemed to regard her as the leader. And why were satyrs so obsessed with murder and death anyway? Relma couldn''t stand doing it herself. "I, I don''t really want to kill anyone. I''d much rather everyone get out of this alive. Even the Dragon Empire."


    "That does not seem possible," said Shren, motioning to the pyre. "You''ve already helped kill a fair number of people. You helped one side win, and win we did."


    Relma sighed and looked down. It was a bit selfish, she supposed. "I know."


    "I do have an idea," said Shren, sitting down to warm his hands near the pyre. Relma kept back a pace or two from it while trying not to show she was. The smell of roasted meat was coming from it.


    "What is it?" asked Relma. Privately, she wondered if Shren had any good ideas at all. He had not struck her as much of a thinker or strategist.


    "The Road of Ancient Stone is under the dominion of the Ancestor," said Shren with a sharp smile. His eyes were glazing with darkness at the smell of blood. "It may be that the ancestor could open a path through the mountains to strike at the Dragon Empire. If so, we might take the enemy by surprise. Then we could curb their numbers in a glorious suicide charge that would bring both death and glory."


    "Well, Varsus has sent Ajax to do more scouting of the Dragon Empire. So we might be able to get a sense of their location," said Relma, remembering her journeys. "Still, why don''t you object to killing humans. The Tharakan are human, after all."


    "Not all of them," said a voice.


    Relma looked up to see De Cathe coming up to them. He had a heavy cloak on and was favoring one leg. He''d been hurt in the fight, and though the wound had healed, the pain remained. Relma had heard he''d slain many enemy warriors. Thus proving he had yet to get his reputation for nothing as usual.


    "Edward De Cathe," said Shren. "What is it you desire?"


    De Cathe said nothing and looked to the edge of his pass. Shren offered him the pipe, which he took before blowing a massive smoke ring. Then he handed it back. "When I served in the Dragon Watch, I often took my watch, looking out over the pass. The ground here is blackened from dragon fire, and what plants grow here is fed by the blood of a hundred. There has always been a war here. Sometimes, a dozen scale the wall to raid beyond in the night.


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    "Sometimes, hundreds are testing the defenses.


    "And sometimes, thousands."


    "How could there have been a war for so long?" asked Relma.


    "The war never really ends," said De Cathe. "It just changes fronts now and then. To the east, Antion and Haldren fight Calisha. But we at least understand Calisha. None have ever passed into the realm of the Dragon Empire and returned. Not since Estela''s brother, Prince Otto, led an army through. He hoped to put a permenant end to the raids."


    "To conquer the Dragon Empire?" asked Relma. "But how could he do that without understanding the language." Endless war without end? Relma supposed she had never heard of a period where there hadn''t been any fighting going on. Not in this or any world. Wasn''t there some way to stop it? Or slow it down?


    Had anyone even tried? Everyone Relma met seemed to take it for granted that war was inevitable and part of the world. It seemed an oversight to not look into other possibilities. From what she''d heard, Duke Vanion and Arengeth seemed to agree on that. But they''d been in a private war for decades. And everyone, even Argath Marn, was taking sides in it.


    It had to be stopped. And Relma had to stop it.


    "Conquest was not on his mind," said De Cathe. "His purpose was destruction. Prince Otto believed that if he depopulated the Tharakan, it would stop the raids.


    "He took many Dragon Watch with him, Prince Rinseld also went. At first, the news was good. They took and destroyed three towns and killed several dragons. Then, all communication ceased.


    "Only Rinseld returned with a small number of men. He spoke of dragons, clouds of dragons filling the air and assailing their defenses. And they came behind. It was a terrible battle made worse by rebellions breaking out all over Escor. That was even as we fought to hold the enemy back.


    "But at last, the attacks ceased."


    "I didn''t even know Estela had brothers," said Relma.


    "King Tyus'' family was very large," said De Cathe sadly. "But Otto is dead, and Rinseld has abandoned us. I was not there with them when it happened."


    "That sounds to me like an excellent war," said Shren.


    "Excellent?" asked Relma. "How can you call it that?"


    "Everyone died," said Shren. "The population was reduced, and tales shall inspire deeds of vengeance and war. The blood shall spill in rivers because of the trickle that Prince Otto unleashed."


    "Perhaps," said De Cathe. "I''ve never understood the Tharakan. They don''t try different tactics. Nor do their Dragon overlords support them as they did. They throw themselves against the walls and try to kill as many of us as possible in a frenzy.


    "It happens again and again.


    "They hate us, or so I assume. Yet they lack either the intelligence or motivation to destroy us.


    "The situation is much the same in Sorn, Sir Garrick told me when I spoke to him. The Tharakan are bold. The Tharakan are ferocious but do not seem to be trying to win. "


    "They are trying to die," said Shren.


    "What makes you say that?" asked Relma.


    "If they grew too numerous, they might one day overthrow their dragon overlords," said Shren.


    "Failing that, they would hunt the game that the dragons feast on to extinction.


    "They must be attacking us to show their loyalty to the dragons."


    "I doubt that very much," said De Cathe. "There have been times where a large force gets past the walls and has gone to raid and plunder. Not all desire death as greatly as you, Shren. Though the dragons might do it to ensure their population remains lower."


    "Look there, dragons from behind!" said a man.


    Relma turned and saw familiar black figures flying toward them. Men drew back their bows, and she ran to them. "No, no, stay the weapons.


    "They are with us."


    "Wrynncurth," said De Cathe. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Wrynncurth descended and landed before them on the wall. His tail slashed like lightning as he perched on a crenelation above her. On came more dragons that landed around them. He loped over to where Relma was, crossing hundreds of feet in an instant. As he did, he slithered between several men. "Well, this seems a merry enough army. I''ve had to relocate our hoards temporarily to get this far. But things have all worked out splendidly.


    "So, do tell Relma old girl. What''s all this about negotiating with my cousins?"


    "That''s just it," said Relma, pleased to see Wrynncurth present. "The Dragon Empire has been attacking Escor for a very long time. And I''d like to figure out why and how to stop it." It all sounded awkward and weak, but that might help her more than hinder her. Relma got as far as she had so far by being underestimated.


    "Well, that does sound like an interesting question," mused Wrynncurth. "We haven''t had any contact with old Vanessa in a long while. I gather you boys aren''t able to get through." He paused. "I say, is that a pipe. Care to join me for a smoke?"


    "The Ancestor permits it," said Shren.


    Wrynncurth moved on by, drew out his pipe from his scales, and lit it before sitting next to Shren on the walls. He lit it with a spell and puffed smoke while looking very thoughtful. Relma moved forward. "Wrynncurth, who is Vanessa? I heard Aren speak of her, but he didn''t say more."


    Wrynncurth looked up from his pipe. "Vrengar''s eldest daughter. Always the brains between her and Bryag, I gather. Though Bryag never was a chap to lose easily in anything.


    "So she isn''t talking to you?"


    "No," said De Cathe. "She doesn''t seem to want to communicate at all. Even servants of the gods cannot understand her servant''s speech."


    "Well, that is troublesome," said Wrynncurth. "Did she do that plan of hers? Well, I imagine there is only one way to find out."


    "And what is that?" asked De Cathe.


    Wrynncurth blew on his pipe and sent three smoke rings into the pass. As they went out, they shifted into an army and a castle. The castle was laid to waste by a great gust of wind that blew it outwards toward the distance. "Go and see her, of course. I remember I met her when I was only a hatchling. Getting all this sorted out should be fine if we meet with her.


    "Still, we''ll have to decide who will meet with her. And that, old girl, will be a bit of a poser."


    "Then we should call a council to decide the matter and who will go," said Relma. Councils and meetings, what good would any of this do? Relma wanted to make all the decisions herself, but she had to pretend to include other people first.


    How would her Father Hadleim, have handled this? From what she''d heard of him, he wouldn''t have. He''d have gotten maneuvered around by everyone and fought his way out of any situation he wasn''t useful in. Hadleim probably never would have made it out of the cave of Eitrigg, and he''d have killed Ajax.


    So Relma thought she was doing better than her Father already. Which was good; it was a bare minimum to do that. She last wanted to end up back on a farm somewhere, forgotten.


    "A council that King Tyus ought to be at to choose a representative," said Aunt Pan, appearing suddenly.


    "Aunt Pan? Where have you been?" asked Relma.


    Aunt Pan looked bad. She had a red mark above her bow. The left side of her hair looked to have been cut with a knife. There were bags under her eyes. "Busy. Very busy. It has been many years since I was last in Escor, and I had to look up my old contacts among the spirits. It has been... unpleasant.


    "Relma, you realize that you have made something of a display of yourself?"


    "Oh. So I have," said Relma. "So about that council?"


    Aunt Pan sighed. As usual, she could be trusted to oppose Relma''s ambitions. But that was useful for making those ambitions more effective anyway. It was something Relma loved her for.

 Chapter 309 - Twenty-Five: The Quest is Set

    Days later, news came to Estela about her fiancee.


    She''d enjoyed her time spent walking the gardens of her youth with Teran. While it wasn''t the same without Otto and Rinseld, it was still home. Father, for his part, hardly said two words to her. He spent his days, as always, holed up in his study while writing letters. Several times


    Estela sat in on him, mediating disputes between the commoners.


    He was decisive but not unfair. Often, he would come in on the side of a poorer man, even when the richer one stood to gain. But it was always done based on the case. Estela remembered something he''d once told Otto.


    "Reputation is everything," he''d said, not seeing Estela. "Money is worthless if your reputation is in ruins. Ruling with justice is essential to maintain respect from our people."


    He''d always said things like that to Otto, his heir. Rinseld, Cadia, and her had always been on the outskirts. Now, here she was, sitting on the outskirts again, even if she was within King Tyus'' meeting room.


    Then Father entered, flanked by his men. His expression was grim, as always. "We''ve found him. "


    "Well, where is he? "asked Estela. "And why the delay? "


    "He''s at the pass of Dragon Bones," said Father. "It seems he veered off to fight with the Heir of Kings."


    So Estela hadn''t met her fianc¨¦e because Father had dragged her here, then? Ironic and a bit satisfying. "Then we''ll go to meet him. "


    "You will not go, "said Tyus quickly. "Word has come to me that the Black Dragons under Wrynncurth have landed. "


    "Wrynncurth? "asked Estela. "I know him. "


    Tyus raised an eyebrow. "You do? "


    "Yes, I might help in negotiations. "said Estela.


    Tyus nodded. "...Very well, then. Pack your things. We''re leaving today. "


    And leave they did. The Queen of House Endorean went with them, her white armored soldiers marching. Together, they made their way through the lands at a swift pace. They rested on the road and only briefly. Estela saw several new castles where there had been none before.


    "When were these built?" she asked Father.


    "The Foundation was there of old, "said Father. "But they were cast down during the civil war before you were born. Arengeth had us restore lands we had taken to the other house."


    "So this has been planned for some time," said Estela.


    "Yes," said the Queen. "We wish a permanent end to the war, so Escor may be united."


    Estela said nothing. They spoke little as they came into empty lands and neared the domain of the Pass of Dragon Bones. Then Estela saw the fort she''d heard so many stories above, surrounded by blackened lands. No grass grew around it, and the earth was packed tight. Weapons meant for killing dragons bristled along the walls.


    And they were met there by a man, a giant with a huge war hammer on his back. He was sitting upon a stump just beyond the barrens, carving a wood block. He looked up with dull eyes and put it down. Rising, he retrieved his war hammer and leaned on it.


    "King Tyus. Mother, "said the man.


    The Queen, what was her name again, dismounted and moved to him. "Jomas, what are you doing here? You were supposed to come to Vortegex''s Capital."


    "I saw smoke and heard battle, "said Jomas. "I came to help. "


    The Queen looked to Tyus. "I''m sorry, Tyus; please forgive my son. He has a tendency to get sidetracked. Where is your valet? "


    Jomas looked down. "Edgar took an axe to the face in the fighting. I tried to heal him, but it was too late. "


    The Queen looked concerned. "Another one? What have I told you of wandering away from safety? It would help if you stayed with your groups. "


    "I''m sorry," said Jomas.


    This simpleton was her fiancee? Estela was insulted.


    "This is Estela Vortegex, your bride-to-be," said the Queen.


    "...Hello, I am Jomas., "said the man.


    Estela smiled. "Greetings. "


    Fortunately, she was saved from having to talk to him when Arengeth arrived. He emerged from around the shadow of a hill. "Ah, there you are, Tyus."


    Tyus eyed him in irritation but moved forward to shake his hand as an equal. "Gail Arengeth, I trust things are in hand."


    "They almost got out of hand for a time, but we caught the matter," said Arengeth. "The Tharakans were driven off, but we have news they have larger armies gathering. Queen Margaret, you should be proud of your son.


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    "Jomas Endorean was invaluable during the battle. He killed dozens of Tharakans and held part of the wall alone."


    Margaret looked to Jomas. "Well done. You''ve made me proud."


    Jomas'' expression did not change.


    "And what of this council you wanted us to attend?" asked Tyus, an edge in his tone.


    "I''m afraid it was a somewhat coincidental meeting," said Arengeth. "Relma asked Wrynncurth for support in defending against the Dragon Empire.


    "The girl tends to act without thinking."


    Arengeth was using her as an excuse, wasn''t he? Estela didn''t buy that Arengeth couldn''t control Relma. But did Father know as much? He did not seem skeptical, but perhaps she should tell him. Couldn''t that hurt Relma, though?


    "Where is the council meeting?" asked Tyus.


    "I will show you," said Arengeth before motioning for them to follow.


    "Father," said Estela, "I don''t think Arengeth lost his grip on Relma."


    "Obviously not, fool," snapped Tyus. "Now, don''t speak so loudly."


    Estela fell silent until, eventually, they reached the top of a hill. There, a circle of stones was lying, looking to have only recently been dug up. In that circle were Fayn, Wrynncurth, Pandora, and many others. Reginald and Varsus could be seen speaking some distance away. And all around them were black dragons, perched here and there.


    "I''ve never seen this many Black Dragons, "said Estela.


    "Of course you haven''t," said Arengeth. "They''ve come from all over to secure this region and plan diplomacy. "


    "Diplomacy? With whom? "asked Margaret.


    "The Dragon Empire, of course, "said Arengeth. "We''re hoping to arrange a truce. "


    "And by what authority will you make it? "asked Tyus.


    "That''s why we''re all here, "said Arengeth.


    Wrynncurth surged into view suddenly, and Father flinched. "Ah, King Tyus, jolly good to see you. "


    "Wrynncurth. I don''t appreciate you entering my domain without permission, "said Tyus, voice hard.


    "Sorry for not sending word ahead, old chap," said Wrynncurth. "Unfortunately, I heard about a crisis in the Dusk Lands. When Relma asked for some help, I assumed she had consulted you. "


    "Sorry, "said Relma, coming up from behind.


    Father looked at her, and a sneer went across his face. Then, he mastered himself and strode past Relma without a word. Beyond was Lady Pandora, meditating. "Lady Pandora, I trust you can explain this?"


    Pandora opened her eyes. "King Tyus, I would apologize for all this. Things have been in absolute chaos with the rise of Lucius in Del Gabor. Certain decisions had to be made quickly, and Relma tended to act without thinking. "


    "I thought about it," said Relma flatly.


    What was she doing? Why was she provoking Father? Did she want to die?


    To Estela''s surprise, however, Father did not flare up. "So long as Escor is secure and no harm is done, I am willing to tolerate this matter. "


    Why yield ground here?


    Because Relma had power, genuine power, even if Father thought it was Arengeth. Relma had gathered a vast army through polite suggestions. The only thing all these factions had in common was her. And now the King of Escor could do nothing but keep a polite face.


    For the first time, Estela became afraid she might create Harlenor Reunited.


    "Explain. Now," said Father.


    "First, we have arranged agents within the Dragon Empire at last," said Arengeth. "An associate of ours can speak with wolves. He has been establishing information gathering within. It should go a long way to predicting future attacks."


    "Wolves?" asked Father. "You have brought the Brood of Telix into this?" Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Relma has, "said Estela. "She has friends among them. "


    "I realize you have a longstanding feud with them," said Arengeth, "however, I ask you to look past it."


    "Until they prey on the cattle of my herdsmen again, then? "asked Father.


    "If that occurs, then yes, "said Arengeth. "For now, we must focus on the problem of the Dragon Empire. The reckoning with Calisha is nigh. Even now, Baltoth''s armies are seeking to expand and grow stronger. I believe his armies will march within the year.


    "As such, we must take steps to ensure that Harlenor does not face a war on two fronts. "


    "You''d make peace with the Dragon Empire? "asked Father.


    "At the very least, I would like to come to an understanding with them," said Arengeth. "I knew Vanessa and Bryag when they were children. Unfortunately, I have not been within Dragon Empire for over a thousand years. Things have changed greatly, and anyone attempting to enter it has been hunted down.


    "It is obvious that they have no desire to negotiate with Harlenor. "


    "Then what are you proposing?" asked Father. "Invasions are out of the question. "


    "That is where I come in, old chap," said Wrynncurth. "We blacks always had a good relationship with the reds before the borders were sealed. I expect she may let me close enough to chat with her. With representatives of Harlenor alongside me, we might come to an understanding. "


    "But we know almost nothing of the territory, "noted Margaret.


    "And that is where the wolves come in. "said Pandora. "They have traversed the entire land, and we may learn everything.


    "Naturally, I will go-"


    "With all due respect, Lady Pandora, you do not speak for Harlenor as a whole," said Father. "Nor does Arengeth. The one we send must be one whose very nature allows them to speak for all of Harlenor.


    "The Heir of Kings would be willing to do so. "


    "Yes, send the Heir of Kings! "said one of the officers.


    "I''ll do it if people want me to, "said Relma.


    Relma was being set up to die. Father wanted her to be killed on this mission. "Relma is not ready for such a task, "said Pandora.


    "Is she not? "asked King Tyus. "Did she not rally an army? Has she not commanded battles against the satyrs, or so I am told? Does she not possess Lightning Trail? Do you believe these things are done by blind luck?


    "Indeed, I believe she should go alone with Wrynncurth. Or perhaps with one companion to help her on the journey. Perhaps the wolf boy when he returns. "


    "I''ll go, "said Jomas.


    "What? "said King Tyus.


    "She might need help. I''ll go, "said Jomas.


    "Out of the question, "said Margaret.


    "Jomas, I believe you should sit down," said Margaret. "You don''t really know what you are thinking."


    "She''ll need help, "said Jomas. Here was an opportunity.


    "This is not-" began Father.


    "You truly are bold, Prince Endorean," said Estela, seeing a chance to be rid of her fiancee honorably. "You must go to represent the honor of your family. Do this on my behalf as a quest. "


    "Estela-" began Father.


    "Father, I am to be married to him, " said Estela. "Is it wrong of me to wish him to embark on a great quest for the good of all Escor? "


    "...No, no, it is not, "said Father, gritting his teeth.


    Wrynncurth laughed. "Well, this has become a jolly spectacular display of venom unlike any I can produce. I don''t imagine there is now a single one of you who wants the quest to succeed. Or at least I don''t hope one member or another doesn''t come back from it.


    "I''ll play the game right enough. I say I won''t carry anyone on this quest unless Princess Vortegex accompanies me. That way, there won''t be anyone praying for our destruction behind closed doors. "


    "...Perhaps we should send people who are less vital to our future-" began Arengeth.


    "No, no, old chap," said Wrynncurth. "You three don''t get to scheme and plan each other''s deaths and then walk on out. You roped each other into the mess, and you can sort it out as planned. Or I''ll take my flight and return home in a flash. "


    Silence reigned as the people in this place looked to one another. Murmurs came among them, but Estela knew Father had no choice. "...Well, it is decided then. "


    Estela did not expect peace to come from any of this. Whether Relma succeeded or not, they were going to have a war. Estela would see to it personally.

 Chapter 310 - Book Nine: The Rival of Gods

    Well, this has been an eventful book. Relma''s plans really seem to be getting off the ground at last. Meanwhile, the risks are increasing, and everyone has volunteered themselves. Now, she is about to head into the Dragon Empire.


    And that means we''re about to head far east back to Abdul Sahshir, now King of Kalthak. We''ll have a chance to get reacquainted with some old friends and hopefully meet new ones.


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    The next installment will feature a grand quest of its own. One to be undertaken by Sahshir and others like him. Which might not be a good thing. Sahshir may be a hero, but he has differing interests from Relma and William. We may finally see the conflict between east and west we''ve been waiting for get hashed out.


    Stay tuned for the next installment;


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 Chapter 311 - Prologue: Isamu Arrives

    King Belosh had reigned for decades over a reign of comparative peace. There had been battles upon the Sea of Power and a few raids and skirmishes. Many of his sons had marched to fight in Calisha''s wars abroad. Yet Western Kalthak, in his reign, had been peaceful and productive. He had stockpiled goods during good harvests. In doing so, no one went hungry when famine struck the land.


    Unfortunately, the era of peace might be coming to an end.


    One of his principal warriors walked into the throne room now. He came through the door, his orange hair a mess as always. His ram horns stood out nearly as much as his size, which towered over the guards. On his back was a massive cleaver of a sword, and his garb was in fur.


    Evidently, no one had taken his sword, as usual. Isamu had a way of bypassing such restrictions.


    "Isamu, I''m glad to see you here at last," said Belosh.


    "Well, I got a bit held up, but plans can change," said Isamu. "What''s the story?"


    "Isamu, show some respect!" said Agas, white-bearded and ancient. One who was still dedicated to some level of decency. "You are in the presence of King Belosh of Western Kalthak, and you will kneel!"


    "Break my arm if you want, old man," scoffed Isamu. "I kneel to no one."


    "Enough, we''ve had this discussion far too many times, and it will never happen, Agas," said Belosh. "Isamu is valuable enough to tolerate his quirks. Or I would not have requested his presence."


    "So, what''s the story?" repeated Isamu.


    "A meeting," said Belosh, remembering the letter. "King Abdul Sahshir I of Eastern Kalthak has invited me to visit him." And it was not an invitation he wanted to accept, though he had no intention of saying as much. "Though I wonder why he never requested my aid before now. Certainly, I might have made his ascension a far simpler matter."


    "So, go do it or don''t; why do you need to call me for this?" asked Isamu flatly.


    "Don''t pretend to be ignorant, Isamu," said Belosh. "There has been bad blood between our nations. Blood that had persisted since Eastern Kalthak came into existence."


    Isamu paused. "...When did this happen? I know Asim''s a bastard, but I thought he was just some bandit."


    Asim... a common bandit...


    Belosh had a headache trying to understand how Isamu could be so ignorant. Asim had carried out his raids in a specific bid to discredit Belosh. And worse still, it had almost worked. Before Asim attacked, there had been a discussion of giving Eastern Kalthak back. He was owed it by right.


    Afterward, with both sides gearing up for a full-scale war, Baltoth interceded. He had decided to leave them separate. Officially because Eastern Kalthak did not want to rejoin. But it had been because Calisha lost confidence in Belosh. He''d had to scramble for years to regain Baltoth''s confidence. His sons had done well there, better than Belosh had managed.


    Not that Isamu would understand this, even if it were explained to him. So, perhaps a more mythical explanation? "Agas, explain, will you."


    The older man nodded and stood slowly so as not to disturb his joints. "In ages past, the Goddess Safara was expanding her influence worldwide. Her very presence could enslave men and women alike. The merest glimpse caused them to fall desperately in love with her. Using this, she quickly subdued what is now Dinis and Chaminus.


    "Perceiving the threat faced by her, Kalthak attempted to invade her. However, Safara used her charms to convince much of the army to join her. With them under her spell, she began to take over the entire land of Kalthak. Only the great desert between what is now Eastern and Western Kalthak slowed her.


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    "For a century, a large part of the land was under her grip."


    "Right, right, now I remember," said Isamu. "My old man stopped her from taking over this place with his magic, and they stalemated."


    "If we must bring up Rammas, then yes," said Belosh. "My ancestors did work with him. Eventually, High King Suloth and his brother, Baelgost, journeyed into Eastern Kalthak. There, they defeated Safara, chained her, and dragged her back to Ruscow, where she remains."


    "I hear they''ve been putting up all kinds of cults to her in the Sea of Power," said Isamu. "Some imprisonment."


    Wait, so Isamu knew that but not the basic history of the world he lived in? That was a very specific level of ignorance. "We can discuss that another time," said Belosh. "The point, Isamu, is that Eastern Kalthak was not rejoined to us as it ought to have been. Rammas'' rebellion had seen to that, and instead, it was given to the Sahshir family, a group of petty bandits. And it has remained a borderland for years."


    "Some petty bandit," said Isamu. "Last I heard, he wrecked Sorn without your help."


    "We had indeed expected him to fail," said Belosh. "We hoped he would be forced to turn to us for support. Unworthy, he proved to be far more adept at leading than expected."


    "Isn''t that a good thing?" asked Isamu. "Aren''t Sorn enemies of Calisha?"


    "Yes," said Belosh.


    "And isn''t Eastern Kalthak part of Calisha?" asked Isamu with an insufferable level of smugness. "So shouldn''t we rejoice for Lord Baltoth''s victory?"


    "We are owed Eastern Kalthak by legal right," said Belosh flatly. "When he abdicated the throne and took up life as Baltoth''s Disciple, Aresh ceded all his territory to me. He aimed to reunite Eastern and Western Kalthak and end this pointless divide.


    "But when we tried to stand for our rights, Asim started burning our villages in retribution. We both came to the brink of full-scale war. And so, I am denied my lawful rights, and Eastern Kalthak remains in the hands of barbarians.


    "I rejoice for Baltoth''s victory, of course. As for Abdul Sahshir''s victory, that is yet to be decided.


    "That is why I''ve decided to accept his invitation. I want to take the measure of the man and see how I ought to respond to him. Which is why I want you there."


    Isamu stared at him incredulously. "You want me present at negotiations?"


    "As a bodyguard, you and your entourage are quite formidable," said Belosh. "Your presence should be more than sufficient to head them off.


    "And it would be a great honor-"


    "Not interested," said Isamu.


    "What?!" said Agas, somehow surprised. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I don''t care about honors, and sitting still and silent at banquets has never been my style," said Isamu. "I''d much rather keep fighting bandits.


    "That''s why you hired me, remember? And I''m sure as hell not acting all polite with Asim."


    "King Sahshir is a very good fighter," said Belosh simply.


    Isamu paused, that being his weakness. "...How good?"


    "They say he injured the God Typhos and forced her to retreat," said Belosh. "He dueled Garacel in single combat twice. The first time he won.


    "And he defeated Sorn through sheer force of will."


    "So what you''re saying is that if I go with you to this place, I can fight this guy?" mused Isamu.


    "I''m certain I can arrange a spar between you," said Belosh.


    "Alright!" said Isamu, forgetting as usual where he stood. "Finally, someone worth fighting! I mean, Cadas and Urus are okay, but they stopped being able to catch up with me years ago!


    "I''ll go tell the others right away!" And he walked for the door.


    "You were not given permission-" began Agas.


    "Don''t bother," said Belosh. "He is a demigod. It isn''t worth the effort."


    The door shut, and the guards sighed. Agas cleared his throat. "Milord, Isamu is entirely unsuitable for this. Eastern Kalthak does not hold Rammas in high regard, as some of our people do.


    "We should bring Ashinin."


    "Ashinin is too far away," said Belosh. "And he serves us best in Khasmir anyway. He won us great glory during the battles against the raishans.


    "Besides, when Isamu crushes their King, it will help with negotiations. And I can put up my hands and claim no one can control him."


    "And what if Sahshir is victorious?" asked Agas.


    "Then Isamu may learn some humility," said Belosh.


    "He is liable to offend the King if things get out of hand," noted Agas. "And one may kill the other. Not all are as tolerant."


    "Isamu is a demigod, and therefore we cannot punish him," said Belosh. "And he is not the kind to kill another man in a spar. If he does step out of line, we can hand him over to High King Suloth. He has become less valuable as the bandits in this region have been wiped out anyway.


    "Besides, Tuor requested his presence. He wants him for that venture he''s been planning. He''s wanted to do it ever since the Grail of Immortality was retrieved."


    "Are you sure Eastern Kalthak will cooperate?" asked Agas. "Baltoth is apparently very impressed with King Sahshir. Tales of his exploits have spread."


    "King Sahshir has one foot in the grave," said Belosh. "he''s been dying of the same plague for years with no heir apparent. And Tuor''s connection to him is strong.


    "No mere boy will be able to stop what I have planned."

 Chapter 312 - One: A Meeting of Kings

    Narcissa made her way through the palace halls, glad to be out of her armor. The black shell that she wore into battle protected her. But she preferred the black leather outfit Zigildrazia would have her wear. Having her legs, arms, and stomach covered was something she''d gotten used to, but she didn''t enjoy it. And she didn''t look nearly as good without cleavage.


    Looking good was necessary, even if Sahshir didn''t fully understand why. It wasn''t that he was repressed, just... different. Sahshir didn''t treat life like Narcissa did; she''d learned to accept it.


    At last, she came to the library.


    It had only recently been founded, with books from elsewhere to fill it. Many ancient tales and stories were being compiled across the land and brought in. Sahshir had decided that he wanted the culture and wisdom of East Kalthak recorded. You had a ceiling carefully designed to keep out the rain. There were three different book shelves imported from Dinis. A gift from King Nagos of Chaminus, alongside some of the books. Others had been taken as plunder.


    Within, she found the masked king sitting at a table. The librarians had been dismissed, and he was reading a scroll. His eyes were scanning over the writing. They stood out all the more, given the plagued flesh around them.


    "What are you doing, Sahshir?" asked Narcissa, brushing a strand of her blonde hair from her face. She wished Sahshir would notice more than who she was as a person. Not being judged for your body was a weird experience even now. "You''ve been locked in here for three hours."


    "Reading," said Sahshir.


    Narcissa sat down, surprised he had no harsh statement on virtue. "Reading what?"


    Sahshir set the paper down. "It''s a list I had Alkela draw up, though I''m uncertain why. A list of Princesses of marriageable age?"


    "What do you need that for?" asked Narcissa before she could stop herself.


    Sahshir set down the paper and shifted the Sword of Order in his iron hand. The blade gleamed, and the light reflected off his hand. "...My valor in Zigilus proved my worth as a warrior. And my triumph in wars against Sorn has proven me an able leader. My focus has been wholly on ensuring the proper operation of this Kingdom. I believe I have succeeded.


    "Tensions are low, empty lands are being filled, and the people are in good spirits.


    "In such a time of peace, aside from maintaining it, I must ensure the succession. So I requested your sister look into the matter for me since the people of Zigilus keep such good records."


    "Um, Sahshir-" began Narcissa. No one would ever want to marry him with his disease and-


    "I know," said Sahshir.


    "Ah, right," said Narcissa.


    "I don''t know why I did it," mused Sahshir. "I have been so focused on performing all that I must have forgotten myself. I had forgotten the disease that was killing me.


    "And so I fail."


    "...It might be possible to find a cure, Sahshir," said Narcissa, trying to bring in some hope.


    "How?" asked Sahshir. "Laevian put this curse on me, and the God of Healing is her ally. Elranor is the archenemy of my people."


    "So what are you going to do?" asked Narcissa.


    "I can''t do anything," said Sahshir. "My uncle, Asim, will inherit the throne after me. Then he''ll immediately roll back everything I''ve done. There will be a civil war, and eventually, Sushaki will pick up the pieces. Or, Western Kalthak will intercede and be granted the rule of this land.


    "They always have had closer ties to Ruscow, and if this land falls into chaos, order must be restored."


    "I''m surprised you aren''t talking to Kushina about this," noted Narcissa.


    "She and the priests of Baltoth are preaching his will, as you no doubt know," said Sahshir. "It takes a great deal of her time."


    And then the door opened, and Alkela entered. Narcissa''s twin looked good in her new outfit of red leather, though it didn''t show enough skin for her liking. She wore her mace at one side, and her hair was long, contrasting with Narcissa''s ponytail.


    "Alkela, what is it?" asked Sahshir.


    Alkela raised a hand and made the sign language Nayasha had been teaching her. Sahshir scanned it before he looked at Narcissa. "...They''re here."


    "The delegation from Eastern Kalthak?" asked Narcissa.


    "Yes," said Sahshir. "You will stand at my left side, Asim at my right."


    And he stood as if to walk out. Narcissa felt a sensation of panic. Sahshir never looked good, so much as threatening. But he needed to make some preparations for this. "Sahshir, what about your silver hand?"


    Sahshir halted and looked up. "Is it necessary?"


    "It''s part of your appearance, and your appearance is what you show the world," said Narcissa. "You have to demonstrate yourself as grand. It would help if you also got your armor on. You''ll never look benevolent and wise, but you can look terrifying."


    "I show myself through actions," said Sahshir.


    "Humor me, please," said Narcissa.


    "Very well, help me with it," said Sahshir. "Quickly, however, we must be ready to receive them."


    And so Sahshir began to don his armor and silver hand. The armor was worn by Samurai, black colored with a mask resembling a tiger. As he fitted on a silver hand in place of the iron one, Narcissa eyed him in concern. "So, King Belosh, do you respect him?"


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    "He is a powerful King and could be a formidable enemy," said Sahshir.


    "But do you respect him?" asked Narcissa.


    "Not at the moment," said Sahshir. "Just before my father abandoned me, he attempted to cede my land to King Belosh. Naturally, Asim was not about to let our homeland become vassals of those conceited fools.


    "There was a war, and Baltoth declared me the rightful king, thus why Asim tried to kill me. Belosh, in contrast, offered to remove Asim to shore up my rule. So, I refused and went to kill Tuor instead.


    "Even so, I am willing to consider him worthy of respect after I meet him. Whatever the event, I mean to remain courteous.


    "We must first watch from the balcony. Preparations have already been made for their procession."


    The balcony was at the front of the palace and overlooked the entire city of Khasina. Asim was already there, clad in black armor with a sword read. Khasina now fully deserved the city title, having grown a great deal in the past few years. New buildings had been erected with excellent structural integrity. The main road was now paved, and statues had been erected of Baltoth and his children.


    And now, the gate opened.


    In through the gates came a vast number of samurai. They marched forward with enormous numbers of spears held together with great discipline. Crowds lined the streets and observed them. With them came many dancing girls in scanty clothing and flowing garb. They were dancing and swaying. Behind them were elephants decorated with the most magnificent of harnesses. There were jewels and gold upon them.


    And upon them was King Belosh, alongside his family. Gold and jewels were tossed to the crowd freely as cheers resounded. And around the elephants were entertainers of all kinds. They were juggling flaming sticks, devouring swords, and creating brilliant lights.


    Narcissa had never seen anything so grand.


    And yet she also felt a sense of resentment. Sahshir and her hadn''t had nearly so grand a reception when they returned from war. Then again, Sahshir had never organized a parade of any kind. He''d walked back into the city without so much as a single trumpet sounded and returned to work.


    He really was no fun, actually. Most of his lords had wanted to hold celebrations. But Sahshir only had a celebration if it was religiously obligated. And when he had one, he used the bare minimum amount of resources. The rest went to help people experiencing poverty or building improvements.


    "Look at that parade!" said Narcissa to make conversation. "Have you ever seen so much silk?"


    "Have you ever seen so many harlots?" said Sahshir, clad in his usual black armor.


    "They''re not harlots, Sahshir," said Narcissa, faintly offended. "They''re entertainers."


    "Believe what you will," scoffed Sahshir.


    By now, Belosh''s non-samurai troops were marching behind him. They marched a token force, with spears held aloft and in perfect unison. Aresif came up from behind in the entourage, and Sahshir looked at him. The old man looked far healthier than when they''d liberated him from slavery. His white beard was cut short to a mustache. "They go clad in fine silk with gleaming blades, but any may do as much. The question is their own nature, as well as ours."


    "Aresif, you will keep such comments to yourself," said Sahshir. "Uncle, await me in the throne room. I am relying on you should there be any treachery."


    "As you wish, nephew," said Asim, turning to leave. Aresif took his place.


    Sahshir had been planning something for the throne room for nearly a week. All materials had been going in and out and setting up braziers. Much work had gone into figuring out the exact locations of the windows and how the light entered.


    Whatever it was, Narcissa doubted it wouldn''t be outshone by this parade. Looking back, she noticed something odd. Four people walked out of the formation at the rear of the group. The first was an orange-haired man of great size with ram horns. On his back was a huge sword. Directly behind him was a monk, clad in white robes with a long staff, crooked on end. Then there was an even bigger man with curly brown hair, walking bare-chested. He wore two spiked gauntlets.


    And last of all was a majestically beautiful girl, her long, auburn hair flowing around her. She looked Harlenorian, and she wore very little. She wore a brassiere over her ample bosom and a split skirt that bared her thighs. Around her waist was a golden belt, and Narcissa was impressed. You didn''t usually see someone as beautiful as someone from Zigilus. Not without Zigildrazia''s blessing.


    "Who are they?" asked Sahshir.


    "His name is Isamu, King Sahshir," said Aresif. "Apparently, a samurai of well-documented pride and power. He was born of Rammas before his rebellion."


    "So he is the spawn of a traitor, then. Well, we shall see if he takes after him," said Sahshir. "Why would King Belosh have him in his company?"


    "Isamu is said to be an unsurpassed warrior," said Aresif. "None may stand against him to live. To pierce, his heart is but to know his wrath. He has a group of warrior companions who are powerful indeed, among them a daughter of Belosh."


    "We will judge the matter as we see fit," said Sahshir. Then he raised his hand. "Nayasha report."


    Nayasha was here? Narcissa looked back and saw the violet-haired elf emerging from the shadows. A blade was by her side. "...I am impressed, Sahshir. I had not revealed myself to you."


    "Report," said Sahshir.


    "Tuor was with them when they arrived," said Nayasha. "However, he broke off from the main column on his usual business. My Master loathes celebrations; he believes they are a waste of resources."


    "Nothing that inspires joy is a waste," said Sahshir.


    "...That is an unusually poetic flourish, my King," said Sahshir. sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No, merely the truth," said Sahshir.


    "That seems hypocritical," said Narcissa. "You''ve canceled most celebrations."


    "Joy comes only from pursuing a virtuous life," said Sahshir. "And so all things that inspire it come from virtue. The wicked seek it but find only hedonistic mockeries that consume them. Also, they could have been a better use of money.


    "Let us head to the throne room. Kushina has broken off from the lead now anyway."


    Oh, right, Kushina was down there; Narcissa had hardly noticed the dark-haired priestess. As Sahshir marched through the halls, Narcissa considered what to say. She looked to Alkela, who seemed to guess her mind. "They seem to have shown us up, don''t you think?" asked Narcissa.


    "What do you mean?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, their party mounted a truly impressive display," said Narcissa. "Those were an elephant. It will be the talk of the city for years to come."


    "And of what relevance is that?" asked Sahshir. "They have made an impressive display. They shall be known only as pretenders if their virtues cannot match it. If they can, then it is no business of mine to envy them."


    Entering the throne room, Narcissa noticed the lights were gone. Only the windows provided any light. The throne was on a raised platform with stairs leading up to it. On either side were braziers of coals with oil poured over it.


    Sahshir seated upon the throne as Narcissa walked beside him. Asim took the other side. "You are all to hold your tongue; I expect I will soon be insulted."


    "What do you mean?" asked Narcissa.


    "Tradition dictates that when Kings of Kalthak meet, a marriage bond is made," said Sahshir. "I have no children or sisters, and moreover, I am unmarried. As such, King Belosh ought to be offering me a wife."


    "Do you think he will?" asked Narcissa.


    "I doubt it," said Sahshir. "He''s far more likely to want to marry his daughter into Asim''s line. Which is why Sushaki has been sent to the opposite side of the country.


    "Is all prepared, Asim?"


    "Yes," said Asim. "The braziers have been made as requested."


    "Good, stand by to light them when I signal," said Sahshir.


    Then the windows shut, and they were left in darkness. Narcissa could hear footfalls shuffling into place. Sahshir''s Silent Guard was preparing in the darkness. "Are we meeting them in the dark?" asked Narcissa.


    "No, merely an alternative variety of light," said Sahshir. "Quiet now; they are entering."


    Before Narcissa could ask about that, the double doors opened. Into the room came King Belosh, alongside his guards. The King of Western Kalthak was a tall, dignified man whose hair was tied up in a topknot. His beard was long and black, and he wore flowing robes. Alongside him were many men, including Isamu and his people.


    "What''s with the dark?" asked Isamu. "Did someone put out the torches?"


    "Stand ready, Isamu; this may be a trap," said the monk, not quite low enough. "Stay behind me, Oresa."


    The auburn-haired girl stepped behind the monk. "Isamu..."


    "What is the meaning of this?" asked King Belosh aloud.


    Sahshir slammed the Sword of Order against the floor. Even through the sheath, it made a loud sound. As he did, the braziers flared to life and illuminated Sahshir. As this happened, the doors shut, and the King of Eastern Kalthak rose up. The Silent Guard of King Sahshir was all around them. They stood with terrible discipline, and Belosh''s men went for their weapons.


    What was Sahshir going to do if violence broke out?


    "King Belosh, I bid you welcome to my home," said Sahshir. Then, he arose from the throne and stood before King Belosh.


    "King Sahshir, I assume," said Belosh. "You have an odd way of showing hospitality."


    "Mere theatricality, I assure you," said Sahshir. "One must use such tactics, sometimes, if our people are to be seen as equals." Then he motioned, and the windows were opened, and the light returned.


    "...How did you do that anyway?" asked Isamu. "With the braziers?"


    "He might deal with flame spirits," said the huge, dark-skinned man.


    "But, Cadus, I don''t sense any spirits around us," said Oresa, "there should have been a presence here. There was... nothing."


    "Knowledge is power, and I have learned much," said Sahshir. "Still, perhaps we should retire to a more hospitable environment?"


    "That seems wise to me," said Belosh.


    "Your daughter is, of course, welcome to accompany us," said Sahshir. From there, he looked to Oresa.


    "The invitation is much appreciated," said Belosh. "However, Oresa has rarely had much interest in policy and is technically one of my guards."


    "I understand," said Sahshir, controlling the edge of his town. "Then let us speak in the gardens."


    "How do we know this isn''t some kind of trap?" asked Isamu.


    Sahshir looked to Isamu, insulted. "...If I had intended to trap you, surely I would have done so a moment ago? Asim, draw back your guards; we must ensure our guests are comfortable."


    This was going to be one tense negotiation.

 Chapter 313 - Two: Tensions

    Princess Oresa felt out of place here.


    She hadn''t been sure what to expect when they''d entered the throne room. But when the Silent Guard was unveiled, she thought there''d been an ambush. Isamu, Urus, and Cadas had been about to begin fighting, and so were Father''s guards.


    Oresa wasn''t sure if she''d have been of any value at all there. She''d been ready to create a shield or heal, but she knew she wouldn''t be of any help. She''d realized that after that fight with the bandits when she froze up. Ultimately, Oresa was just glad she hadn''t been called up.


    Now, she and her friends were sitting in a courtyard, drinking pure water with ice. There were fruits here from the islands of power that would have been expensive. Father was proud that he could purchase such delicacies. This was a statement of wealth for a less prosperous country like Eastern Kalthak.


    Sahshir must have been a pretty good king.


    The Silent Guard remained silent as their duty demanded and watched. Oresa had once heard a story of the Silent Guard under Aresh conquering an entire samurai castle. Not one of them had died in battle, and they had only had a rope and their weapons: no siege equipment or anything.


    Isamu, meanwhile, was pacing. He''d wanted to fight King Sahshir, but Oresa was still determining if that was a good idea. She''d read a lot about what he''d done, and while Isamu was powerful, it could be dangerous.


    "What do you think they''re talking about in there?" asked Oresa.


    "Trade rights," said Urus from where he was meditating. His dark hair was falling around his shoulders. "That''s what this whole thing is all about in the end."


    "You''re kidding," said Isamu. "I thought we were here for a visit?"


    "Do you really think Eastern and Western Kalthak would get together over that, Isamu?" asked Urus. "No, there are things far more important to a monarch''s pride at stake here."


    "Like what? Some ancient evil rising from the oceans?" asked Oresa, excited at the prospect of adventure.


    "Trade rights, as I said," said Urus. "King Nagos of Chaminus, a vassal King of Dinis, has recently expanded his empire to Macshore. With his strong friendship with Abdul Sahshir, they now control the Islands of Power."


    "So what?" asked Isamu. "It''s a big ocean."


    "Not big enough, it seems," said Urus. "They are in a position to tax all Western Kalthakian ships a great deal. Sahshir is exempt from those taxes because he played a part in it. And he is in a position to help Western Kalthak similarly."


    "It''s just a bunch of contracts and coins; who even cares?" asked Isamu.


    Cadas looked up and shifted but said nothing. Still, it was more of a reaction than he usually had.


    "I imagine the people whose livelihood is on the line may, Isamu," said Urus, annoyed.


    "What, the beancounters?" scoffed Isamu. "They have more money than they could spend in a lifetime. What do they need more for?"


    "They are people, Isamu," said Urus. "And people have expenses."


    "Whatever you say," said Isamu.


    "That was some entrance, wasn''t it?" asked Cadas suddenly.


    Oresa remembered how she''d almost panicked when the Silent Guard had appeared. She''d read about their fearsome reputation as warrior monks. Yet seeing them appear all around them like that had made her afraid. And it had been worse with Sahshir on his throne, writhed in flame. Oresa had felt his eyes upon her there, with that beautiful blonde woman.


    And Asim had been next to him as a subordinate.


    What kind of power did he have to have for Asim to serve him? Asim had laid villages to waste rather than give up his crown. And now he kneeled to Sahshir.


    "Technically, it was not an entrance but a reveal," said Urus.


    "Who cares?" asked Isamu. "It doesn''t matter to me how he reveals himself. No way is he anywhere my equal.


    "What kind of coward hides behind a mask anyway?"


    Isamu was so strong and confident. Oresa knew that when he became confident, he became unstoppable. But then Oresa noticed several of the Silent Guard assembling before them. Their hands were upon their blades. Isamu turned and set his hand to his own blade. "You got a problem with what I''m saying, black mask?"


    Oresa quickly got behind Isamu and out of the line of fire. Cadas rose up and fitted his gauntlets as Urus raised his staff. More of the guards had now assembled as Isamu took a stance, and they formed up. "Hey, speak up, will you? What are you, mute?"


    Didn''t he know? Then again, Isamu probably had a lot more important things to do. Oresa didn''t really do anything to be helpful much so-


    "No, they are members of the Silent Guard, a Kalthakian organization," said Urus. "They are the Royal Guard to the King and sworn to silence until they leave it. They are both warriors and monks.


    "And you are insulting their liege lord in front of them."


    "Sounds boring to me," said Isamu, turning away. "Hey, Cadas, you up for a spar?"


    "From the looks of things, they are," said Cadas.


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    The Silent Guard drew their swords.


    "Fair enough," said Isamu.


    And then, just before he drew his sword, Asim dropped down from the nearby balcony. Clad in his armor, he made a three-point landing, sword in hand. Rising up, he raised a hand. "Stay your blades, men."


    Isamu''s eyes narrowed as his body changed, a snarl coming to his lips. "Asim."


    "Isamu," said Asim. "I am surprised you still draw breath."


    Isamu drew his sword, and the blade made the air howl in agony. A rage surrounded him, and Isamu seemed more beast than man. Oresa shuddered as Urus stepped forward and caught his hand.


    "Hold on, Isamu!" said Urus. "We can''t fight him here!"


    "Indeed, we cannot," said Asim with a smile. "For I am the uncle of the King. And you would do well to watch your tone; you are within our home."


    "From a strictly rational perspective, one place is the same as the other," said Urus simply. "There is nothing notable or special about any land or domain. Only in the thoughts which you hold toward it."


    "Spoken like a true student of Western Kalthak barbarism," snarled Asim. "Which order of monks enslaved your mind, boy?"


    "I am of the Reasonists," said Urus.


    "I know Isamu''s shadow; I believe I nearly killed him once," said Asim, glancing at Cadas. "But what of your fourth companion?" asked Asim, turning to Oresa. "What role do you play in this remarkable band. Healer? I note you do not seem in any hurry to join your companions."


    "You have no way to talk to Oresa that way, you bastard," snarled Isamu. "No low-life like you has any right to speak to anyone like that! Oresa is one of us!"


    "Oh yes, I had forgotten that tongue of yours, half-beast," said Asim. "Very well, out of respect for your status as a warrior, I shall extend her the courtesy of being an enemy.


    "Well, no matter." He motioned, and the Silent Guard assembled. "See to it that none of them die. I''ll deal with Isamu. Oh, and... not a sound."


    And then it began.


    The Silent Guard surged forward toward Urus and Cadas. The two of them dodged away and stood back to back, fighting. Even as they did, Isamu and Asim rushed toward one another. Their blades clashed, and Asim was forced back. Yet he turned the strikes and lashed Isamu across the cheek, nearly taking his head off. And the Silent Guard did not make a sound; even their footsteps were silent.


    Isamu flinched away and brought his blade around, which would have cut Asim in half. Yet the man dropped forward to one hand and spun over Isamu toward Oresa. Moving to one side, she tried to escape, only for Asim to grab her around the neck. His blade was at her throat.


    "Isamu!" cried Oresa in terror.


    The fighting stopped.


    "Hey, leave her alone, you bastard!" snarled Isamu.


    "I told you I would afford her the courtesy of being an enemy," said Asim. "Did you think she would remain exempt because she is a girl?"


    "You low-life scum!!" cried Isamu.


    His blade was suddenly writhed in black fire. As he did, the flames withered the grass beneath him. Now Oresa saw what he was doing; he planned to fire it over Asim and strike him down without hurting her. Isamu was really amazing. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Isamu, wait!" cried Urus.


    Isamu hurled the flames toward them in a wave of power-


    Then Kushina landed between them. Raising a hand, she caught the flames as they came, and a shield arose. The flames died in moments, and the withered grass was restored to its former state. The Silent Guard withdrew.


    "That... was far more than a mere sparring match," said Kushina, who had disappeared after meeting them at the gate.


    "Who are you?" asked Isamu.


    "I am Priestess Kushina, religious advisor to King Sahshir," said Kushina. "Though I believe I introduced myself once before today. In the name of Baltoth, I declared this match a draw." Then she glanced back. "I''m surprised at you, Asim."


    Asim removed the sword from Oresa''s neck and walked past. "Permit an old man his amusements. If that attack had landed, I may have survived. However, it would certainly have killed the Princess and lost Isamu his head."


    "Does Sahshir know of this?" asked Kushina.


    "He ordered me to take the measure of Belosh''s guards," said Asim.


    "What kind of coward takes a girl hostage!" snarled Isamu.


    "I won''t even dignify that with a response," said Asim, sheathing his blade and walking for the door. "I would love to drain your blood into the sands, Isamu. However, we shall have to put off our reckoning for another time.


    "We will settle this matter during the tournament." The door shut behind him.


    "Tournament?" asked Isamu.


    "There is a great tournament planned between the two sides," said Kushina. "All the warriors shall participate. Have you been paying attention?"


    "Why didn''t you tell me, Urus?" asked Isamu.


    "I did!" said Urus. "If you paid attention now and then, you might notice these things."


    "I suggest you have your wounds looked at," said Kushina. "I have an urgent message for King Sahshir; it cannot wait." Then she walked forward to the door, only to find it held against her by the Silent Guard.


    "I am well aware that this is a meeting among royals," said Kushina. "However, this is a matter of faith. As High Priestess of Baltoth, I am within my right to decree it an emergency." Then she looked back. "You haven''t changed, Oresa."


    And she walked out.


    Oresa looked down, feeling awful. Cadas came forward. "What was that about?"


    "I... Kushina and I trained together in the healing arts," said Oresa. "She was always everything I wanted to be."


    "Well, that was a disaster," said Urus. "We lost outright."


    "No, we didn''t!" snapped Isamu. "We would have cleared them out easily if he hadn''t taken Oresa hostage!"


    "But he did," said Urus.


    "I... I''m sorry, Isamu," said Oresa. "I should have acted faster, but..."


    "It was his fault, not yours," said Isamu before coming forward. "Could you help me with this injury, please?"


    "Right," said Oresa.


    The cut Asim had dealt Isamu was already healing, but she managed to speed the recovery. It was something. Then, there was a sound beyond the door.


    "Is that... shouting?" asked Urus.


    The door opened, and Sahshir stormed out of the gates with the beautiful blonde woman behind him. "I will not negotiate this time, Narcissa," said Sahshir. "I have indulged your people in many things, but not in this. I will write the decree myself!"


    "It is a sacred custom of our people, Sahshir," said Narcissa. "It is the woman''s choice to offer her own flesh unto Zigildrazia."


    "It is a sacred custom among my people that when women hack infants to pieces with hooks, we burn them," said Sahshir. "Let us both leave the other culture to their custom and see who lives to tell of it."


    Kushina then came out behind them, and Oresa moved up to her. "What''s going on?"


    "To Zigildrazians, children are an extension of their mother," said Kushina. "They exist as a limb and may act contrary to or without her. But they are, in the end, hers to do with as she likes. In the interests of health, the Mother must care for the child or risk spreading disease.


    "But it is also considered the most incredible show of devotion to Zigildrazia. To willingly mar your own flesh for her exemplifies her beliefs.


    "As such, it was a practice among citizens of Zigilus to lead depraved lifestyles. They would then bear a child and have it ritually hacked to pieces by hooked blades. In return, they receive payment from the priests of Zigildrazia."


    "That''s sick!" said Isamu.


    "Yes, and Sahshir is planning to pass a law. Anyone who practices blood rites shall be burned alive. Alongside the priests who performed the ritual, as well," said Kushina.


    "It''s a woman''s choice!" proclaimed Narcissa.


    "Yes, and the law is my choice," said Sahshir. "And I ''choose'' that anyone who murders infants will be burned alive. If you kill your own child, your life is forfeit."


    "And what about Mothers whose health is endangered by their child and must have the operation!" asked Narcissa.


    "That would be the exception that proves the rule," said Sahshir before walking on.


    Narcissa followed after him. "And what am I supposed to say to my people? They''ll be enraged by this!"


    "Justify the indefensible; your people have a talent for that," said Sahshir. He raised a hand of steel while not looking back.


    This visit was...


    It''s not going to end well.

 Chapter 314 - Three: The Wooden Blade

    Narcissa had been spending too much time with Sahshir.


    She was, officially at least, the leader of the Zigildrazians refugees. What she did affect how their subordinates behaved. And Sahshir was corrupting her, bringing her further and further away from Zigildrazia. King Sahshir had saved and drawn them out of Dinis, but now he was trying to cull their culture.


    Even now, many of those who performed Zigildrazia''s rites were in prison. They were awaiting execution for destroying an extension of themselves.


    Alkela was grateful to him for teaching her sign language. That, however, still did not change his actions. As she opened the door, she walked through. Beyond, she found Sahshir looking through scrolls in his office. He looked up.


    "Ah, Alkela, I take it you have the names and evidence for each accused, as I requested," said Sahshir. Alkela drew out the scrolls she had been handed, wondering why she was being trusted with this. Though, for now, that trust was not in vain.


    Sahshir took it quickly. "Thank you. I would prefer to look over these if there is nothing else."


    Alkela remained where she was.


    "Yes, what is it?" asked Sahshir.


    Alkela quickly made sign language, making her intentions clear. There had yet to be a place for the Zigildrazian warriors in the tournament. Sahshir raised where his eyebrows would typically. "So, you wish to compete in the coming tournament. Why?"


    Alkela pointed out that most New Zigilus'' warriors focused on the shorelines. Raiders from Sorn had menaced some of the fishing villages. Alkela had ordered the priests to spread the word of Zigildrazia while there, of course. However, it was anyone''s game as to who would win this. "Well, I suppose someone from Zigilus should represent your people. With Narcissa out of the running, it is just as well."


    And then Narcissa stormed into the room. She was carrying a sheet of parchment that she threw down on the table. "What is this?"


    "Hmm?" asked Sahshir. "I feel it is somewhat self-explanatory, to be honest."


    "You''re banning me from the tournament," said Narcissa.


    "And myself as well," said Sahshir. "As King of Kaltak, I cannot be seen to publically lose at anything. And you, as the leader of your people, have the same restriction. So does Belosh as well. Though I doubt he minds as much as myself."


    "Are you insane?" asked Narcissa. "They''ve got a demi-god on their side! Isamu literally killed an entire army of bandits single-handed!


    "We need every warrior we can get, or we won''t stand a chance!"


    "Yes, and if he wins, I can simply say it was only because I was forbidden from participating," said Sahshir. "If he loses, I can congratulate the warrior that defeated him. Thus assuring my people that he would have fallen to me if he had gotten past them.


    "It''s all about appearances."


    "But I''m the best fighter of my people!" said Narcissa.


    Alkela disagreed and made the appropriate signs. Narcissa sighed. "Alkela, you''re good at fighting, but I have much more experience."


    "Experience you gained because she had to remain behind," noted Sahshir. "You can hardly complain if she wants her own chance at glory."


    "What were you even talking about with Belosh anyway?" asked Narcissa. "You went off alone with him while I entertained his personal guards."


    "Nothing of consequence," said Sahshir. "Alkela, I expect you to deal the Western Kalthakians a well-deserved defeat. We''ve already shown them up by defeating Sorn without their vaunted help. Let us do it once again."


    "What were you talking about?" asked Narcissa flatly.


    Sahshir sighed. "Several things.


    "Belosh is trying to arrange a closer friendship between our peoples and doing so on Tuor''s behalf. In fact, all of this is because of Tuor; he arranged for them to offer help to us during the Macshore War.


    "I gather that Tuor had hoped to establish a union between our factions. We would, naturally, have been the junior partners."


    "But we won without them," noted Narcissa.


    "Precisely, and Nayasha tells me that threw Tuor''s plans off," said Sahshir. "Out of goodwill, I arranged this meeting to help salvage those plans.


    "However, I am doing so as an equal partner. Nayasha has been dispatched back to Tuor''s own domain, of course. He needs no representative when he is coming himself."


    "So, what''s the problem?" asked Narcissa.


    Sahshir clasped his fingers over his iron hand. "As an equal partner, I am owed assurances that Western Kalthak will not betray me. One of those is a marriage alliance. I asked after Oresa, implying that I desired to wed her.


    "I believe I predicted that I was going to be insulted. I was right."


    "So he refused," guessed Narcissa.


    Sahshir had become increasingly insecure. Apparently, he felt that, as a King, he was obligated to find an appropriate match. Alkela didn''t see why he cared; he was lucky to have gotten as far as he did. In Zigilus, he''d have been sacrificed for his appearance if he had even made it past infancy. He really should just take the victory.


    "Nothing so direct, of course," said Sahshir. "No, he revealed that her heart was taken by... one of the guards; what was his name?"


    "Isamu?" guessed Narcissa. It was a wild guess, but probably correct. Monks were celebrating, and no self-respecting Princess would marry a Dren. Their skin was like mud.


    "Yes, him, the idiot with no sense of his rank," said Sahshir.


    "The one who killed an entire army of bandits singlehanded," said Narcissa.


    "I''ve heard that I routed the assembled legions of Dinis and the armies of Typhos by myself," noted Sahshir. "That does not make the story true."


    "Fair enough," said Nayasha. "So, what is this all about?"


    "Simple enough, we''ll just have to destroy Isamu," said Sahshir. "If Oresa is no longer in love with Isamu. Isamu is disgraced, so living him would be contemptible; Belosh will be out of excuses."


    "But it''s just an excuse," said Nayasha. "He''ll find another one."


    "Yes, but then it will be plain to everyone that he has insulted me," said Sahshir. "And I will have an excuse to cut off all ties." Ah, this would be one of those things where Sahshir took a stand on principle. Thereby instantly destroying every plan, including his own.


    "Tuor won''t like that much," said Narcissa.


    "Tuor is no longer my father nor King of this land," said Sahshir. "I am not beholden to him, and if I am not afforded my rights, I see no reason to join his schemes."


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    "Why do you even care about Oresa?" asked Narcissa, mirroring Alkela''s thoughts. "You don''t even know her."


    "I don''t," said Sahshir flatly.


    That was...


    That was an unexpectedly honest statement. Alkela was impressed.


    "...Okay," said Narcissa.


    "Narcissa, I don''t care about anyone," said Sahshir. "If my closest companion were to die before me, I would feel nothing for them. Only what I, personally, had lost.


    "My concern is for my duties and responsibilities.


    "And one of those responsibilities is protecting the dignity of my position. An insult to me is an insult to all of Eastern Kalthak.


    "I shall lay all of the West to waste before I brook an insult to East.


    "Is there anything else?"


    They were going to have a war, weren''t they?


    "...Perhaps you should get a second opinion from your god," said Narcissa.


    "I suppose Baltoth may that I consult him on this," said Sahshir. "Very well, you''ve convinced me. I will speak with Kushina at once."


    And he stood to walk out.


    Alkela followed him at a distance, moving quietly and softly to stay out of sight. Sahshir seemed preoccupied and did not pick her up. He made his way out of the palace and turned right to walk toward the Shrine of Baltoth. Sliding aside the door, he entered it. Alkela moved next to the door and listened.


    "Sahshir, you haven''t visited in some time," said Kushina''s voice.


    "I will be looking over the evidence against each accused and will make a judgment in time," said Sahshir. "For now, I must consult you on something of great import."


    "I guess by your tone that you seek Baltoth''s word and not mine," said Kushina. "Very well, how may I help you?"


    "I find myself at a crossroads," said Sahshir. "Tuor, the Disciple of Baltoth, desires closer relations be made between East and West. Yet King Belosh has shown me no respect. I am asked to make an Alliance without the traditional exchanges. This I take to be an insult and a grievous one.


    "I must obey the will of Baltoth. Yet, I must also defend the honor of my people.


    "How, then, am I to answer such an attack?"


    "You can make no direct revenge upon Belosh or his kind. Not without deviating from the constraints of honor," replied Kushina. "Therefore, your revenge must be done indirectly, with words rather than the blade.


    "You must-"


    Then another door opened, and a set of footsteps, those of a child, rushed in. "Kushina! Kushina!"


    "Sister, I am meeting with Sahshir and cannot be disturbed," said Kushina. "That is to say, the King."


    "But Kushina, the other children are telling lies about me," said her sister. What was her name again? "I need to get my bow so I can shoot them."


    "Schzara, responding to insults with murder is not Baltoth''s way," said Kushina. "If they are lying about you, you should find out the truth."


    "The truth?" asked Schzara.


    "Yes, figure out the weaknesses in their character," said Kushina. "The things about them that they want to ignore. Then show it to them. That will destroy them far more effectively than any lie they could tell about you."


    "Thanks, sister, um, Sahshir; I''m really sorry about interrupting," said Schzara.


    "Now, I believe I was advising you?" said Kushina, probably turning back to Sahshir.


    "I believe you already have," said Sahshir. "Thank you very much."


    Alkela glanced up and saw a messenger rushing toward the door. Sitting down crosslegged,


    Alkela pretended she was there as a guard. Aside from the low-cut nature of her kimono, she''d be fine. The man passed her without noticing and opened the door, rushing in before kneeling. Sahshir glanced up and saw Alkela at once.


    "King Sahshir," said the samurai.


    "Yes, what is it?" asked Sahshir.


    "Pardon the interruption. But Isamu has been sparring with many of our warriors," said the samurai. "So far, he and his friends are undefeated. We are being made to look like fools."


    "Very well," said Sahshir. "Kushina, assemble the sword trainees in the training ground outside here." Then he moved by Alkela without a word, and Alkela followed through the streets. As they did, people bowed as Sahshir walked by them, almost on reflex.


    Men looked at him now with respect and adoration, albeit dangerous. When Alkela had first come here, there was far more uncertainty.


    The city barracks was a large, one-story building with a tiled roof and mud-brick walls. Outside the gate, the sound of fighting could be found within. Coming to the door, a guard kneeled.


    "King Sahshir, how may I help you, sir?"


    "Make no announcement of my arrival," said Sahshir. "I wish to observe those of Western Kalthak in action."


    "How will you disguise yourself," said the man.


    "I won''t," said Sahshir. "Where are Isamu and his companions?"


    "Within the training hall," said the man. "They are..."


    "Yes?" asked Sahshir.


    "Undisciplined but not unskilled," said the man. "They insisted on bringing the Princess in with them. She may train, too, but I''ve seen no sign of it. Mostly, it is the Dren, Isamu, and the monk."


    "Then we''ll see how they are progressing," said Sahshir.


    Alkela took a moment to appreciate that Sahshir was pretending she did not exist. Alkela preferred to be beneath notice. Still, as they walked through the halls, they entered the training room. Within it, Isamu was dueling with the Dren and the monk. Several men were lying at the far end, unconscious. Several others were healing them or standing at the ready.


    "Come on, Urus, Cadas put up a fight, will you," said Isamu, spinning his blade casually. "I''ve already defeated the others!"


    "Don''t take me lightly, Isamu," said Urus.


    "Urus, Cadus, be careful," said Oresa, who was passive and weak like always. She was healing some of those who had been hurt.


    On it went as the battle went on. Now and then, when an injury was sustained, Oresa was called on to heal it. There wasn''t any discipline about it. Apparently, Oresa was used to heal wounds in training. Urus and Cadas seemed to pay her thanks, but Isamu hardly noticed her. But the way Oresa looked at Isamu was clearly starstruck.


    Why would be the question Alkela would ask?


    "Hold on, we''re being watched," said Isamu, turning to where Sahshir was. He was coated in sweat from his efforts.


    "You train a great deal, don''t you?" asked Sahshir.


    "Skulking in the shadows again?" asked Isamu.


    "The King of Kalthak is expected to win battles," said Sahshir. "Everything else is secondary."


    "That''s some code to live by," said Isamu.


    "And what code do you live by?" asked Sahshir. "You, who shows no respect for rank or others?"


    "I don''t believe in anything but what I see," said Isamu.


    "And what do you see here, in this place?" asked Sahshir.


    "Nobody worth fighting at the moment," said Isamu. "Urus and Cadas are better than most of the others. Why are you interested in trying your luck?"


    "Perhaps I am," said Sahshir. "But not here. I will have a place prepared."


    Sometime later, Sahshir and Isamu stood at the center of an outdoor training ground. The two stood in stances before one another, eyeing stances. Men were standing by and watching, and several passerbys came to look at it.


    "You really want to make a public spectacle of your defeat?" asked Isamu.


    "Only a fool declares victory before his last stroke has fallen," said Sahshir.


    "Guess that makes you one with all the airs you''re putting on," said Isamu.


    "...Believe what you will," said Sahshir.


    "Isamu, be careful," said Oresa, voice concerned.


    Isamu finally glanced back and gave her a reassuring smile. "Don''t worry, Oresa. I''ll win."


    "Is it wise to be so confident when facing an accomplished swordsman?" asked Sahshir.


    "What, you scared?" asked Isamu.


    Murmurs of anger came from the men. Sahshir had become a legend lately, a man who wounded gods. A being who had torn off his own arm rather than suffer an insult to his Kingdom. This kind of blanket accusation was not going to end well.


    Sahshir drew his sword. Then he handed it to Alkela, much to her surprise. "Far from it."


    Alkela took the Sword of Order and felt a rush through her. Holding it made her feel a bit odd like she was wholly disconnected from this world. An impartial observer, knowing all and seeing things far away. Yet the moment passed.


    "What, why are you throwing away your sword?" asked Isamu. "What are you giving up?"


    Sahshir ignored him and made his way over to a child who had been training. Kneeling by him, he put out a hand. "You, boy, give me your bokken."


    "My bokken?" asked the boy.


    "Yes, I will use it instead," said Sahshir.


    "But King Sahshir..." said the boy.


    "All is as Baltoth wills it," said Sahshir.


    The boy gave it to him, and Sahshir drew it up. Walking past, he turned back to Isamu and took a stance. Isamu looked angry. "A wooden sword? You complain about me being confident, and you won''t even use a real weapon?"


    "If I am overconfident, you need only defeat me to prove it," said Sahshir. "If I defeat you, then I was correct in my assessment of you."


    Isamu paused. "...Fair enough."


    Then Kushina came forward between them to do the rites.


    "Warriors of Baltoth, prepare yourselves and let the better one be chosen," said Kushina.


    "Is it really fair for Isamu to fight him when he has nothing but a wooden sword?" asked Cadas.


    "No," said Urus in deadpan. "Isamu is done for."


    "Don''t worry, Urus; Isamu said he''d win," said Oresa. "When he looks confident like that, he can''t lose. And he said he''d win. When he says that, it means he really believes it. He never goes back on his word."


    The signal was given. This was going to be good.


    "Let''s go!" cried Isamu. He surged forward, blade swinging.


    Sahshir stepped aside from Isamu''s blade and brought his bokken around. It struck Isamu in the back of the neck, and he fell forward to hit the ground hard. Alkela laughed hysterically and wished people could hear her do it. That was the problem with not being able to make a sound.


    "Isamu!" cried Oresa, running forward.


    "Extraordinary," said Kushina. "It appears that merely saying one shall be victorious does not lead to victory. No matter."


    "Sahshir! Sahshir! Sahshir! Sahshir!" came the call.


    The men of Eastern Kalthak cheered in unison as Sahshir returned the blade to the boy. He then began to walk away. Alkela filed in behind him alongside Kushina as Isamu rose up again. "You... sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Come back here! We''re not done!"


    "The duel is over," said Sahshir. "Were I wielding the Sword of Order, your head would be at your feet. Win the tournament if you wish to prove yourself more than a braggart."


    "You... I''ll be there, you bastard!" snarled Isamu.


    "Of course, you will," scoffed Sahshir.


    And then he handed the wooden blade back to the boy. "Practice your stances. All of us have duties to fulfill."


    Then he walked off and was followed.


    "What made you so certain of your victory?" asked Kushina.


    "He dueled an entire barracks of experienced troops, so he was tired," said Sahshir. "Isamu was also overconfident, and the fact that I had taken a bokken made him regard me as overconfident.


    "All this combined to ensure he was off his game while I was fully focused. I was nearly hit by his opening attack, actually."


    "And what if he had beaten you anyway?" asked Kushina.


    "Then, we truly would have been inferior to Western Kalthak and would need to know as much," said Sahshir.


    "You may have made a powerful enemy today," noted Kushina.


    Sahshir laughed. "Truth be told, I was trying to break his neck. If I''d cut it in half with the Sword of Order, there might have been an incident. However, I am well enough content with displaying my superiority at his expense."


    Alkela liked this side of Sahshir, actually. She wished they''d spent more time together.


    "I''m pleased to see that you have found contentment in life, son," said a familiar voice. "Less so that it happens in a way that could start a war."


    Tuor, the Disciple of Baltoth, turned a corner. So the cosmic killjoy had finally arrived, had he?

 Chapter 315 - Four: Tournaments and Executions

    Tuor was the last person Sahshir wished to speak with at the moment. He had stayed the same from when they had last met. His skin had been a bit more tanned by the sun. His white hair was a bit longer, and he wore a white vest and baggy pants with a rope belt. His muscular form was on full display with his arms, and he had nunchucks at his left side.


    When Tuor had requested he set up this meeting, Sahshir had immediately wondered as to the reason. He had not been satisfied with Tuor''s claim that it was to remedy relations. There was always a secondary purpose to everything the man did.


    "Tuor, where have you been?" asked Sahshir. A glance at Alkela revealed that Narcissa''s twin had already moved off. Kushina stood just behind, and Sahshir motioned for her to stay back.


    "Engineering a great many things," said Tuor, walking forward. "It is the will of Baltoth that Kalthak be reunified in time. You seem to have interfered with his designs in your zeal to ensure his greatness."


    "You''re a fool if you believe Baltoth did not account for that," noted Sahshir, walking past him. He did not actually believe Tuor about any of that.


    "Perhaps," said Tuor, moving to walk beside him. For a moment, they walked, with neither saying anything. Sahshir looked up at the sky as a cloud passed before the sun. "Let us say that I have had to work overtime to adjust the execution of his plans, then." Tuor might have some small idea of the difficulties he''d left for Sahshir. Though Tuor had not had to fear Asim might murder him for a skin disease.


    "And what were those plans?" asked Sahshir. He was genuinely curious about what good Tuor thought could come from all this.


    "Western Kalthak has always been the stronger of the two," said Tuor with a shrug, "the ground is more fertile. And it connects to many influential trade routes. Because of the desires of the Lords of Eastern Kalthak. Baltoth allowed you to maintain independence." S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "And because of Asim''s valor and the defeat of Belosh in many battles," noted Sahshir.


    "Asim is a fool," snapped Tuor. "He started a civil war that killed thousands. His actions weakened both of us and nearly led to your death. And through your death, it would have been the death of us all. A reunification would have been to both country''s benefit.


    "You would have ruled as a vassal king and well protected. Without the endless feuding, the focus could have been securing the land. Roads could have been built, and all you have achieved here would have been done far sooner. With the fall of Zigilus, Calisha could have expanded into Dinis."


    "You assume there would have been peace," scoffed Sahshir. "Eastern Kalthak would be enslaved, not reunified. Our Lords would bend the knee to Belosh as our people grew fat and lazy. We seek glory against the enemies of Baltoth. It is our purpose to bring destruction upon his enemies.


    "And we will not suffer domination by foreign overlords who abandoned us once before. Where was the West when Safara was devouring the maidens she enchanted? Nowhere to be found."


    "You speak as though the pursuit of valor is the only worthwhile one," noted Tuor.


    "It is," said Sahshir. "Though valor may be achieved in all things. To strive to lead a virtuous life as a merchant. They charge reasonable pay and manage one''s affairs with integrity? That is no less glorious than to behave as a samurai ought to. It is merely another aspect of a greater society.


    "All men have their parts.


    "To play them well is to become worthy of remembrance, even if the memory of you fades."


    "You seem to have put much thought into all this," said Tuor.


    "Of course," said Sahshir. "No one else was willing to do as much, so the task fell to me."


    "Perhaps you are correct," said Tuor. "Perhaps you are not. We cannot know what would have happened, only what did. As things stand, you have made Eastern Kalthak far more powerful.


    "You stand in a position to act as an equal partner to King Belosh rather than a lesser king. However, King Belosh and his associates still believe themselves to be superior. They do not like having to treat you as an equal. With your recent humiliation of Isamu, they may become hostile."


    "Let them," snapped Sahshir. "I''ve endured as many insults as I am willing to. If they decide to flee back home and show themselves as cowards, I will be no worse than the wear for it. They would make a poisonous ally in any case."


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    "I would be cautious about acting out of spite, Sahshir," said Tuor. "To ignore warnings out of anger benefits no one save your enemies. And you, as king, are obligated to act in the interests of Baltoth''s plan, are you not?"


    "And what do you suggest?" asked Sahshir, more annoyed by the moment. He had not seen Tuor in years, not since his training. There had been a point where he''d been ready to murder the man in a rage. That rage had fallen away to respect. Now, however, he felt more of a simmering fury.


    He''d gotten what he needed from Tuor and owed him nothing. Their mutual cooperation benefited them, but Sahshir did not trust him.


    "It might be well to instruct some of your warriors in the tournament to feign defeat," said Tuor. "To put as much effort to show their valor but forfeit out of respect.


    "It would salvage King Belosh''s reputation."


    "King Belosh has dealt me only insult and, in his efforts, discredited himself," said Sahshir. "Why should I order my men to demean themselves for his vaunted pride?"


    "Because I have asked you to," said Tuor.


    Sahshir stopped and looked at the man. I just... looked at him. Tuor apparently realized that he had not won much favor with Sahshir. Tuor frowned at the realization, and their gazing battle continued. Drawing up his hands, he crossed his arms.


    "Have I not been of great value as an ally?" asked Tuor. "Without my aid, you never would have subjugated Asim. Even if you had, it would have been a bloodbath, and you would have spent your reign putting down rebellions.


    "I believe I have earned respect and gratitude."


    Perhaps he had. Yet Sahshir remembered the fall of Zigilus after Garacel stole the Blade of Chaos. Tuor had contacts within and had known enough to open the gates for the legions of Dinis. How, then, had Tuor not learned of the attack sent by Garacel? It seemed a spectacular oversight.


    Too spectacular. Tuor was never that careless, and if he had let Garacel through...


    It raised too many questions.


    "You put me in this position, Tuor," said Sahshir, looking away with a sigh. "Your betrayal of Elranor cursed me with this body. The abandoning of your responsibility nearly claimed my life. Do you expect me to forget that?"


    Tuor fell silent for a long time, and the silence stretched between them. Several people walked in a wide birth around them. "There is a way you may be cured."


    "What do you mean?" asked Sahshir.


    "For some time now, I have been planning a mission," said Tuor after a moment, "a great quest, if you will. I might add one that has only been made possible by your recovery of the Grail of Immortality. Its goal is to seize the Heaven''s Eye from Gel Carn."


    "Gel Carn?" asked Sahshir. "That Dark Land where Anoa the Bright made his fortress? A place where the power of Elranor is at its zenith?"


    "The same, I''m afraid," said Tuor. "And my homeland. It will be dangerous and will require only the greatest of warriors. The world''s fate may well rest on this mission, in fact. For a time of destiny is now upon us.


    "To achieve this, it will require one who has the blood of Elranor. For only they can touch the Heaven''s Eye. You, Sahshir."


    "What is that to me?" asked Sahshir. "I cannot leave my realm without good cause."


    "There is a good cause," said Tuor. "The Heaven''s Eye is a nexus of powerful, healing energies. Elranor forged it himself before he came down from the stars. In the days when it was being used, it was said that it could heal any sickness. Any injury or disease could disappear instantly.


    "Once, King Anoa invaded the land now called the Dusk Lands. Laying siege to the castle of Del Gabor, he fought a gruesome battle. Yet, in the end, Anoa was forced to retreat south as King Anasar arrived with his elves.


    "After a desperate flight, Anoa''s men were exhausted, injured, and waning. The elves were nearing them, and all seemed lost. Then Elranor granted him the Heaven''s Eye, and Anoa raised it aloft. In an instant, all the wounds of his soldiers were healed, and their strength restored. They fell upon the armies of King Anasar and fought a pitched battle.


    "King Anasar met King Anoa in single combat, and Anoa was nearly overwhelmed. But his greatest knight, Sir Orson, stopped him. Anasar was worsted, and Orson struck his head from his shoulders. And so a great, if near, victory was won.


    "Without the gem, Anoa would surely have been destroyed."


    "What is your point by this tale?" asked Sahshir, finding the story interesting.


    "If you were to be restored to full health. It is doubtful that King Belosh would have the same reservations," said Tuor. "You could have Oresa and any women you wanted. And your lifetime would be normal for a human, perhaps enhanced."


    "So that''s why you came here personally," mused Sahshir.


    "That and you are a formidable enough power to be worthy of personal attention," said Tuor. "Once we seize the Heaven''s Eye, it will be delivered to Ruscow. With the Grail of Immortality, Baltoth may finally achieve his designs."


    "And when would this... quest be undertaken?" asked Sahshir.


    "After the tournament, of course," said Tuor. "It would not do to cut it short. Such displays have a function of their own."


    Sahshir drew off the glove on his remaining hand and looked at it. The flesh was blackened and cracked. Moving it caused him pain, a pain he was as used to as the air he breathed. If they could retrieve the Heaven''s Eye, Sahshir could be healed. From the beginning, he could be restored to how he ought to have been. And by doing this, he would be advancing the desires of Baltoth.


    It was said that miracles came unlooked for.


    There was only one response Sahshir could make. Yet...


    What if Tuor had some other plan here? What if Sahshir''s fears proved true. And he considered how best to defend against such a possibility. At last, he found it.


    "...Very well then, Tuor. I will join this quest," said Sahshir. "However, Isamu and his compatriots will go with us. I want Eastern Kalthak invested in this quest." To throw them into the mix would create an element of chaos in whatever plan was made. At the very least, they would be unable to aid Belosh should he invade.


    Tuor shifted slightly. "I suppose they might well be helpful. Though I had hoped to bring Nayasha."


    "And I will not be rigging any matches," said Sahshir. "They shall unfold as they unfold."


    "Well, the strong should be known as much, should they not?" asked Tuor.


    Sahshir had known he was condemned to die for his entire life. It had hung over him like a cloak on his shoulders. Now, however, that cloak had been lifted. He had...


    Hope.


    Yes, he would die. But to be given an average lifespan? To be freed of pain and death for a time?


    What could he achieve if he was healed? He had already done much as king. But were he to restore his power, he might become the greatest king Kalthak had ever known. Sahshir might leave behind a Kingdom that none would ever surpass.


    And he wondered if this had not been the plan all along.


    All was, after all, as Baltoth willed it.

 Chapter 316 - Five: The Tournament

    The tournament, so far, had been spectacular. Many samurai fought in battle, yearning to bring glory to their Lord. One by one, pairs of them entered the ring and did battle. Sword met swear and axe, and as one was defeated, another advanced.


    The flowing banners of their houses were taken down little by little. Now, there were only a few left.


    Belosh watched as Cadas caught Alkela''s mace with one gauntletted fist. A shockwave ensued, and Cadas brought around his other fist. Yet Alkela leaped into the air, flipping over Cadas and freeing her mace. Bringing the weapon around, she drove Cadas back with rapid strikes.


    The crowd went wild as the huge man fought against the blonde. Finally, Cadas stepped back and smashed both gauntlets together. Alkela raised her mace, and the sun glinted off her armor. Then she leaped into the air, bringing down a two-handed strike. Her mace was surrounded by a reddish glow.


    Cadas met the battle head-on.


    There was a clash, and both fell back. Alkela landed on the ground while Cadas flew back beyond the ring. He landed hard and tried to rise. Cheers deafened.


    "Alkela is victorious once more. Cadas is defeated," said Sahshir.


    Oresa ran forward toward where Cadas was lying and summoned her healing. Orange radiance was sent forward to surround Cadas, restoring his health. Belosh drew out his listening stone and tuned it to where she was. He heard her voice then. "Cadas!


    "It''s alright, Cadas, I have you."


    "Oresa, take care of him," said Isamu, coming forward.


    Cadas was the first among Isamu''s group to be defeated. He''d always had the back luck to end up against the strongest enemy in each tournament. However, he had not faced Asim, so that was fortunate. Even now, Belosh could see the black-armored warrior observing. He ended up glaring at Isamu, who returned the gaze.


    He''d defeated every enemy he''d faced with absolute ease. His strikes had been brutal, and one of those he''d faced was dead.


    "She wields a mace with a savage beauty I have hardly seen," said Belosh, looking to Alkela. Were she not one of the tainted of Zigilus, Belosh would have loved to have her as one of his consorts. Glancing to Sahshir, he saw the masked King was observing with equal fervor. Had he truly fought and defeated Asim?


    "She is a veteran of Zigilus and hunted demons before the wars," said Sahshir. "Cadas seems a formidable warrior in his own right as well."


    "A distant cousin of Isamu," said Belosh. "His family are also descendants of Rammas. But his blood is several generations diluted."


    "Blood is but the physical matter we inhabit," said Sahshir. "Who we are is defined entirely by what we do and nothing else."


    "Is it true you first drew blood within Zigilus?" asked Belosh. There were a great many legends about that battle. The land in that region had become a nightmarish, untamed jungle of monstrous beasts.


    "No, it was before that, in a duel with Tuor," sad Sahshir. "My first kill was when Garacel attacked the capital. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Alkela and Narcissa accompanied Garacel in an assault on this place. They were hoping to steal the Blade of Chaos. In that, they were, unfortunately, successful."


    "I''m told Garacel still possesses the blade," mused Belosh.


    "He does," said Sahshir. "However, there are more important considerations at the moment. One should never focus on faraway threats at the expense of the moment.


    "Asim is next, fighting Urus.


    "This will be worth seeing, I think."


    "Not really," said Belosh with a shrug. "Urus has always been weaker than Isamu, and Asim is nearly a match for him. Urus does not have a chance."


    Urus came forward onto the field, and Asim came forward as well. Staff and sword flourished and met in a clash. The two dueled and fought back and forth, and Asim seemed to have the advantage.


    "You assume that neither will make any mistakes," noted Sahshir.


    "Is that not a reasonable assumption to make?" asked Belosh.


    "Wars are not won by brute strength alone," said Sahshir. "Even if Asim is far more powerful,


    Urus may adopt a strategy that could win him the match. In every situation, one has advantages and disadvantages." Asim overextended, and Urus struck a leg out from under him. The black-suited samurai fell but turned Urus'' staff. Rolling away, they clashed, but Urus had the advantage, driving him back. "It is merely a matter of exploiting them."


    Suddenly, Asim stopped and attacked. It was, technically, a bad move. But it surprised Urus and put him back on the defensive.


    Then Urus stabbed his staff into the ground. Pushing upward, he spun over Asim. As he did, the team in his hand split into four. Each one was plunged into the soil around Asim, and lightning surged from them. Asim grunted in pain as the bolts struck him.


    "What was that?" asked Sahshir.


    "Spirit sticks," said Belosh. "They channel spiritual power and channel it to the others nearby. Urus has the blood of a lightning spirit in his family line. She gifted that staff to his ancestor, and he may call upon her at will. How do you believe Asim will counter this?"


    "I imagine he''ll weather it," said Sahshir.


    Asim shuddered, now on one knee, as the lightning surged into him. At last, it halted, and the sticks spun back to Urus, merging into a staff.


    "Power is gained through virtue rather than communion with spirits," said Sahshir. "We have faith in Baltoth, but we ask no inherent power of him.


    "The Sword of Order is merely one tool of many, albeit a sacred one.


    "Also, that armor is three hundred years old and blessed with many powerful runes. Asim took it from an ancient tomb in the Kalthakian Wastes."


    Asim surged toward Urus, who rushed in turn to meet him. The two passed one another and halted. As they did, the two remained totally still for a moment. Then Urus fell to his knees and hit the ground. Asim turned his sword around and sheathed it in one movement.


    "As expected," said Sahshir.


    "You said that Urus would win," said Belosh.


    "I said he could win with proper strategy," said Sahshir. "There is a difference, though I am impressed with his conduct."


    Belosh did not know how to read the man. He seemed always to be turning events over in his head. Clearly, he was a far greater threat than Belosh had given him credit for. "The Tournament seems to be going well so far, wouldn''t you say?"


    "Yes, Alkela has proven herself formidable. As has Asim and your own warriors," agreed Sahshir.


    "I had hoped to see Asim''s son in battle," said Belosh. More specifically, to arrange a marriage alliance. He''d taken Sahshir''s advances for Oresa with horror. Though if he were not a leper, he might not find it so objectionable.


    Sushaki was well known as more moderate than his father. He seemed the logical choice for a king when Sahshir died.


    "Sushaki has been sent to the port cities to oversee the reconstruction," said Sahshir. "It is an important duty he could not put down."


    "Well, Asim himself is a formidable opponent in his own right," said Belosh after a moment. So Sahshir was dead set on preventing his authority from being undercut. He would rather Asim take the throne than see Kalthak made whole.


    This could be a problem. Why had Aresh had to become the Disciple of Baltoth? You could reason with the man, but Sahshir seemed to have more of Asim, just with Aresh''s cunning. Belosh dearly hoped things never came to war.


    "I''m told Isamu and Asim have a vendetta," said Sahshir.


    "Yes, that," said Belosh. "Isamu''s mother was killed in a raid conducted by Asim when he was only a child. It was during the three-day war. When I found him, he had a spear on his back and was clinging to life.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "My priests saved him, and I had him trained in a militia in a nearby village.


    "He came to my attention later after he killed an entire army of bandits singlehanded."


    "Really?" asked Sahshir, sounding interested.


    "Well, my armies did the finishing blow," admitted Belosh. "But he did throw them into chaos and killed many. After that, he became a powerful asset to my realm.


    "You are a formidable warrior to defeat him."


    "I timed our duel for a time when he would be at a disadvantage," said Sahshir. "Wood may kill as well as steel with the right movements."


    "Mere strategy then?" asked Belosh.


    "Strategy is the proper application of virtue," said Sahshir.


    Belosh mused on the subject. "Isamu seems to be fighting very well in the matches."


    "Naturally, he has something to prove," said Sahshir. "His mind is focused on making up for his humiliation, and so he has power."


    "Do you think he''ll face Asim?" asked Belosh.


    "Perhaps," mused Sahshir. "It is of no interest to me, however, so long as neither dies.


    "Isamu''s match is next, against Alkela. Well, let us see where this goes."


    Isamu and Alkela came forward to face one another. The beautiful blonde donned her helmet, while Isamu wore no armor at all. Drawing his sword, he took his stance. "You''re good, but I''m not going to let anyone get between me and beating Asim."


    Alkela said nothing.


    "What, cat got your tongue?" asked Isamu sarcastically.


    Alkela said nothing, merely shifted in irritation. If Belosh had encountered this curvaceous beauty in his own land, he''d have taken her for his harem in a moment. Still, she was of Zigilus, so it was better to watch.


    "Say something!" snapped Isamu.


    Alkela sighed and made signs with her hands.


    "Sign language..." said Isamu before glancing back. "Hey, Urus, what does that mean?"


    "She says, ''I''m a mute, you idiot.''" said Urus.


    Isamu looked back at Alkela. "Why you..."


    And then Alkela surged forward and attacked in a berserk flurry. Isamu dodged and parried, thrusting and striking. Each blow that touched the ground left cracks in the ring''s floor. Alkela danced away.


    "Both seem exceptionally skilled; I am surprised a female is doing so well," said Belosh.


    "She is a Battleluster of Zigildrazia, it is to be expected," said Sahshir. Alkela launched another furious assault, and Isamu met it head-on.


    "There is a savage beauty about that one, is there not?" asked Belosh. The two combatants were now circling while striking at one another.


    "Why is Oresa not out here?" asked Sahshir in turn.


    "What do you mean?" asked Belosh.


    "Urus and Cadas are fighting, but not Oresa," noted Sahshir.


    "You cannot seriously expect my daughter to participate in this?" asked Belosh. Even Eastern Kalthakins hesitated to send women to fight. At least aside from the priestesses of Baltoth.


    "Is she not one of Isamu''s warrior companions?" asked Sahshir. "Why does she remain on the side, cheering, tending only to wounds. Her efforts are acknowledged as those of a servant, rather than an equal, let alone a superior."


    "Isamu is not what one could call respectful of authority," said Belosh, returning to the fight. By now, Alkela was on the defensive, beginning to tire beneath the onslaught of Isamu.


    "And yet you tolerate him," noted Sahshir.


    "He kills like a god," said Belosh.


    "I have seen gods who kill, and no, he does not," said Sahshir. "He likes spectacle far too much. And he is careless. I''m surprised he is still alive."


    "He is challenging to kill," said Belosh.


    At that moment, Alkela''s twin, Narcissa, came to Sahshir''s side with documents. "Sahshir, a word?"


    "What is it, Narcissa?" asked Sahshir.


    "I''ve just returned from reviewing the cases," said Narcissa. "The orders of execution for those women. Well, it turns out that there was an error."


    "What is it?" asked Sahshir.


    "One among them had the child killed for medical reasons. It was draining her life force," said Narcissa.


    "What do you mean by that?" asked Sahshir.


    "My people mix our blood with demons," said Narcissa. "Sometimes, children are born who naturally drain the lifeforce of those close to them. It is a reflex; if they grow up, they can become deadly predators. Those they are close to are consumed, and the mother is usually the first to die.


    "In such a situation, the practice is to perform a sacrifice ritual to Zigildrazia. By doing this, the children might take their place as true succubi."


    "And you wish me to pardon them?" mused Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Narcissa.


    Sahshir nodded. "Very well then, consider it done. Order a halt to the executions. I will review the cases myself for any other reasons I might pardon them. Tell me if any other matters come to my attention.


    "You have my trust, Narcissa. And the responsibility that entails."


    "Thank you," said Narcissa. Then she sat down.


    "Surely such a matter is beneath you," said Belosh.


    "In normal practice? Perhaps," conceded Sahshir. "However, this is the first time I have meddled in their internal matters. As such, it must be conducted justly and with all due mercy. Justice must be done, but not so violently as to inspire hatred."


    Suddenly, Alkela got a blow in. Her mace caught Isamu in the chest and smashed into him. Isamu fell back, bruised but not seriously injured. The next impact caught him on the bicep, and he was defending again.


    "That blow should have killed a lesser man," mused Sahshir.


    "Isamu is no lesser man," said Belosh.


    "Whether he is or not, it''s over," said Sahshir.


    And then Isamu radiated an aura of red and surged forward in a berserk fury. Alkela was driven back, hardly able to respond. At last, her mace was knocked from her hand, and she was thrown from the ring. Belosh smiled.


    "Isamu is complicated to kill," said Belosh.


    "And very little else, it would seem," noted Sahshir.


    Kushina, who had said nothing before now, laughed. "So Isamu is the winner by having god-given power. One that lets him win despite doing nothing to deserve the victory. Excellent, truly excellent. I can see why Baltoth ordered his Father sealed in the darkest dungeon of Ruscow."


    Belosh was annoyed now. These people were flaunting their martial prowess far too much for his liking. Worse still, he had always disliked the priestesses of Baltoth.


    Their fixation on violence and terror as a control method had never sat right with Belosh. He preferred to us diplomacy when he could. It wasted fewer resources and spared men their lives to get what they wanted without striking a blow. If Baltoth weren''t the deity, Belosh should have been worshipping another deity.


    Which, of course, was what this was all about, really.


    "Isamu won because of his own power," said Belosh.


    "Power that requires no discipline is a mere privilege," said Kushina. "It inevitably fails once you run into those who put the work in."


    Soon enough, the last match came about.


    Asim and Isamu came forward in the tournament and faced one another. As they did, they charged at one another without a word. Both attacked with vicious offensives, striking to kill from the looks of things. Yet neither was able to overcome the other.


    Belosh remembered what Tuor had mentioned to him about the nature of the quest. He dearly wanted to get off the subject, as he seemed to be losing on the martial front. "King Sahshir, I wish to speak to you about something.


    "Tuor spoke to me of this quest for the Heaven''s Eye the two of you believe in. Do you truly believe you could retrieve it from the heart of Harlenor?"


    "All things are possible for a man of virtue and faith," said Sahshir.


    "And you consider yourself that?" mused Belosh.


    "I would say I walk the path of both," said Sahshir. "One cannot truly know if that is either, however. Certainly, I am willing to make the attempt."


    "And if you should return, Tuor believes that you will return whole and healed," said Belosh. He was considering his angles at the moment.


    "Perhaps, perhaps not," said Sahshir.


    "Should that occur, I would gladly offer Oresa''s hand in marriage to you," said Belosh. It''s best not to have Sahshir as an enemy. He was obviously a zealot and dangerous, and if he returned healed, well, there were worse matches.


    Sahshir nodded. "My thanks.


    "Of course, Isamu will have to accompany us."


    "Do you believe he will try to prevent such a union?" asked Belosh.


    "Yes," said Sahshir. "I do not like Oresa''s infatuation with Isamu. He shelters her just enough that she does not stand alone, but not enough to make a suitable husband."


    "They seem to be taking this battle personally, aren''t they?" said Kushina.


    Oh yes, the fight between Asim and Isamu? Belosh looked bat to where their blades were moving at an immense rate. The crowd was cheering wildly at what was the pinnacle of martial ability in Kalthak. Belosh made sure to appear interested if only to maintain appearances. He despised violence and preferred to use it as a last resort.


    "Do you truly care, Kushina?" asked Sahshir flatly, who was not even doing that much.


    "I''m surprised, Sahshir," laughed Kushina. "It''s not like you to have no interest in a battle."


    "The outcome of this fight is irrelevant," said Sahshir. "If Asim wins, it will not be an achievement because Isamu is incompetent. If Isamu wins, it will only be because he gained immense powers from nowhere. Victory through brute force given as a birthright is not impressive to me.


    "In either event, nothing has been achieved by either party. So I have no interest in the outcome." That was harsh. Not untrue, Belosh had always regarded Isamu more as a battering ram than a warrior. But it seemed impolite to say as much openly.


    "...What if one of them kills the other?" asked Narcissa.


    "Well, that would present a problem, wouldn''t it?" asked Sahshir, looking to where Asim and Isamu had halted. "Fortunately, Asim seems as bored by this conflict as I am."


    Asim halted and then was forced to withdraw beneath a flurry of strikes by Isamu. Catching a blade in a final blow, the air around them seemed to warp beneath their onslaught. Suddenly, Asim separated and landed on one knee. Struggling to stand, Isamu surged at him for a killing blow.


    But Asim rolled away and sheathed his sword at the very same moment.


    "I forfeit," said Asim, blood running down his brow.


    "What?" said Isamu, voice furious.


    "I said I forfeit," said Asim, sheathing his blade. "You win."


    "You... you can''t forfeit!" said Isamu. "We''re not done!"


    "I just did," said Asim. "I have been given orders from my King, and I obey them to the letter."


    "Orders?" asked Isamu. "What are you talking about?"


    "I ordered Asim that if he believed the match would end in death, he should forfeit," said Sahshir. "Both are valuable assets, and I do not mean to waste either."


    "And he obeyed?" asked Belosh, surprised. Asim was well known as one of the most proud and vicious men. For pride''s sake, he''d gotten thousands killed in a pointless war.


    "My subjects heed my orders because they respect me and are loyal to my cause," said Sahshir.


    Yes, those who supported Asim could simply say he did it because he saw the match would end with death. That Asim should have been the one whose head was lying on the ground was a detail they''d forget. Sahshir was far more intelligent than his uncle and a better warrior.


    "You..." Isamu said as Asim walked away. "Get back here, you bastard! You don''t get to walk away from me after what you did!" Kushina and Sahshir stood and made their way out into the arena. Belosh rose and walked with them, somewhat behind.


    "Yes, I do," said Asim as he walked away. "Denying the enemy the honor of a battle can be just as great a revenge as engaging them directly. Perhaps even greater. You aren''t worth fighting any further."


    Isamu raised his sword and would have attacked Asim. However, Kushina came between them and caught his hand. "Stay your hand, Isamu. Asim is no longer fighting you."


    "But he..." began Isamu.


    "It''s over, Isamu," said Urus, coming forward.


    "It won''t be over!" snarled Isamu. "It won''t be over until I''ve killed him!"


    "Well, you''ll have to do it another day," said Kushina. Then she spoke aloud. "Isamu, son of Rammas! You have brought glory to Kalthak, both West and East! Now we award you the title of Champion!


    "Bring forth the prizes!"


    Great cheers broke out throughout the crowds by the end of the battle. Belosh was surprised; it had seemed anticlimactic to him. Still, he supposed Asim might have forfeited because he was losing to save face.


    The riches Isamu had won came forward. They were carried by many majestically beautiful slave girls. They wore beautiful garments, and Belosh felt a twinge of jealousy. Sahshir rose and came forward to personally congratulate him. Belosh tuned his listening stone again.


    "The slavegirls are part of the prize," said Kushina simply.


    "I don''t care about money. This was my fight," snapped Isamu.


    "No, it was the crowd''s fight, and you entertained them a great deal," said Sahshir, moving up to him. "If either you or Asim had killed the other, it should have wrecked the spectacle. That would have led to serious consequences."


    "What are you saying?" asked Isamu.


    "Never engage in a battle where you cannot gain victory," said Kushina. "Your goal was to kill Asim, and that was not achievable.


    "Had you not fought to kill, he would not have forfeited. And so you might have humbled him.


    "By seeking too great a goal, you have not gained a lesser one that was achievable."


    "...You''ve thought this through, haven''t you?" snapped Isamu.


    "I have the advantage of having no time to lose at all," said Sahshir. "And so I must use every moment to its fullest, for tomorrow, I may be dead.


    "Enjoy the slaves. You have earned them."


    Belosh knew Isamu would not be enjoying them at all. He hated slavery and cared nothing for money, so all would go to waste. It was a shame. They were gorgeous women.

 Chapter 317 - Six: Farewells

    Narcissa looked out over the serene waters of the Sea of Power. She smiled as the wind caught her hair and thought the sun had never looked more beautiful. The water seemed to sparkle in the morning light, and Sahshir seemed more at ease. Winds kept things reasonably cool, and the clouds kept out the glare. He was sitting cross-legged upon the pier, polishing the Sword of Order. His armor had been shed in favor of his black garbs.


    Still, even the day after the tournament, Narcissa was surprised at what had come after. "So, he freed them all?"


    "Yes, and he gave them all an equal split of the treasure he''d won," said Sahshir. "After providing a stipend to Belosh, of course. Other than that, he took only a tiny amount to pay for repairs to his clothes.


    "Isamu is wiser than I expected."


    "Wise?" asked Narcissa. "He gave up a fortune worth of money. That could have been used to do all kinds of things."


    "What is money?" asked Sahshir.


    "It''s how we pay for things," said Narcissa.


    "Yes, but why do we use it for that?" asked Sahshir. "Do ordinary people need pieces of silver in their everyday life? No, food is far more useful, as is water. So why do men obsess over it?"


    "Because you can get all kinds of things with it," said Narcissa, not understanding the point.


    "Exactly," said Sahshir. "It has been declared by mortals to have a value that can be used to purchase goods. And those who own the goods may, in turn, do the same. Before the worshippers of Coinfurth forged money, men used to barter to get what they needed.


    "But, not all areas had the same resources, nor did they have the same needs for resources. So, a man who needed cloth but only had grain could not necessarily trade grain for cloth. Instead, he would have to trade grain for other commodities that men with cloth needed. Or, failing that, trade grain for some other commodity. One those who had what men with cloth needed."


    "Complex," said Narcissa, sitting beside him and putting a hand on his shoulder.


    "Drastically so," said Sahshir, gazing at the ships. There were four of them, the swiftest vessels even now being loaded. Men and servants were there, and further down was Belosh''s ship. It was a far grander affair, with much decoration and a fleet.


    Sahshir had said he didn''t mind being overshadowed openly. It was only his actions that would define how he was treated. Even now, were being loaded for their journey. "Which is why money provides an out. It becomes so by declaring that rare resources, which can be anything, are valuable. Silver or seashells, so long as we believe it has value, you have a universal good. Thus, the man can sell his grain, then use the money he gains there to gain cloth."


    Narcissa removed her hand and sighed. Her thoughts turned to Sen Kaba and the gruesome second Sornian War. "You''ve been studying a lot about Sorn, haven''t you? I''m surprised; I thought you hated Sornians." sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I thought to research Sorn, a society of merchants, to better understand that part of my kingdom. I have come to appreciate the value of all classes in my time as King," said Sahshir. He finished polishing the blade and sheathed it. "It is my responsibility as King to ensure the well-being of my kingdom in all ways."


    "Well, why does it raise your opinion of Isamu?" asked Narcissa. Sahshir had seemed to hold the man in contempt before now.


    "Because some men obsess over money," said Sahshir. "They forget that it has no inherent value beyond what is given to it by people. Gaining it becomes their life, and they become prisoners to wealth, even if they don''t have any of it."


    "I think Isamu could have made better use of it," said Narcissa. "He could have raised armies. Or built hospitals. Or he could have given it all to King Belosh to improve the kingdom.


    "Instead, he just handed it over to random strangers."


    "Perhaps, but he has gained goodwill for his heroic spirit," said Sahshir. "Certainly, those girls'' families will forever sing his praises. A reputation for benevolence may do much for a man, especially if he falls far.


    "Isamu lives and dies by the sword. Vast wealth would only be of use to him for luxury, debauchery, or leaving his present life beyond.


    "Throwing it away to liberate others has a certain feral wisdom. He knows enough to know wealth isn''t everything. More than most men know."


    Narcissa looked at the ship as the sun came fully over the horizon. The twilight of the early morning passed, and now that full day was coming. And the ships were nearly boarded.


    "...Are you sure about this, Sahshir? Going on this trip?" She''d known that the desire for a wife had meant a lot to him, but this seemed extreme.


    "Yes," said Sahshir. "Not for Oresa; however, her value would be only as a means to ensure my alliance with Western Kalthak. The girl herself means nothing to me beyond what she can do to shore up relations."


    "She is very beautiful, though," said Narcissa. Her people didn''t discriminate between genders.


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    "I hadn''t noticed," said Sahshir. "I''ve never liked women in that way."


    Narcissa shifted and looked at him. "You mean you''re..."


    "Yes, does it matter?" snapped Sahshir quickly.


    Calisha, in general, despised homosexuality. It was considered a mental illness, though there were no outright persecutions. If it came out that Sahshir was homosexual, it could be a severe blow to his image. Prince Baelgost might have been the same, but he was Prince Baelgost.


    "No," said Narcissa after a moment. She wouldn''t be mentioning this to anyone.


    "Then why should I obsess over it?" asked Sahshir. "Am I defined by how the meaningless shell of flesh I inhabit operates? Or am I a pure spirit, for whom such things are but an inconvenience?"


    "Zigildrazia teaches us that the body is the source of individuality," said Narcissa. "That one should embrace who they are."


    "Zigildrazia is wrong," replied Sahshir simply.


    Narcissa smiled. "A typical answer. You don''t see shades of gray, do you, Sahshir?"


    "Shades of gray are nothing more than an excuse for moral ignorance," said Sahshir. "Men may choose to serve good or evil. Some serve one to a lesser extent but are ultimately one or the other."


    "By that standard, why not kill all the evil people?" asked Narcissa.


    "I am not such a fool as to believe I am capable of knowing as much," admitted Sahshir. "Baltoth has chosen to tolerate the existence of the wicked in this world. Who am I to question his choice?"


    "But isn''t Baltoth trying to kill or convert them?" asked Narcissa.


    "That is a somewhat complex question to answer," said Sahshir. "There are two different manifestations of Baltoth. There is the God of Order, who resides within Ruscow. This Baltoth can be thwarted and defeated.


    "However, the God of Order is a flawed avatar of the true Baltoth, who resides beyond this universe. That God is all-powerful, and nothing is beyond his sight or scope."


    Narcissa found this to need clarification. "Then why are there people fighting Baltoth at all? Couldn''t he just destroy them all?"


    "It may be that by allowing us to fight amongst one another, Baltoth will bring more to a greater being," said Sahshir. "Or it may amuse him to make war upon those who would oppose him with self-imposed limitations. The answer does not matter.


    "We were made by and for him; he may do with us as he wishes. For he is the one who defines both right and wrong. We may submit to him or submit to total oblivion of the spirit."


    Narcissa only thought a little of this answer. Zigildrazia taught her faithful that they were all extensions of herself. Right and wrong did not enter the matter, and Narcissa did not see why it needed to. "That seems like a very elaborate explanation," said Narcissa. "Wouldn''t it be simpler to admit Baltoth is a flawed god, striving for still greater power?"


    "Simplicity does not always mean truth," replied Sahshir. "Moral laws exist; for them to exist, there must be a moral lawgiver. Such an entity as the Greater Baltoth must exist. You must have noticed that even among Zigilus, you hold the same basic morality at your core.


    "Yes, Zigildrazia has twisted it, but she cannot fully drive the good from your people. She can only distort and mar it."


    "And what makes you think Baltoth is the avatar of this greater being?" asked Narcissa. "Maybe it''s Zigildrazia or Typhos."


    "They exist in defiance of the universe," replied Sahshir. "While Baltoth reigns supreme."


    They waited there on that pier for what seemed like an eternity. Sahshir seemed unusually somber as he gazed at the sun''s light on the water. Narcissa did not really know what to say, but eventually, that time came to an end.


    Sushaki came forward from behind, clad in red armor. His fair features were the same as ever, and his hair was longer.


    Sahshir said nothing at first, as if he did not notice him. Narcissa wondered if Sushaki had ever really been Sahshir''s friend at all. Sahshir had mentioned they had been friends many times, but nothing showed it. Sushaki seemed loyal, but Sahshir regarded him as only subordinate.


    "What is it, Sushaki?" asked Sahshir, voice cold.


    "The ship is loaded, King Sahshir," said Sushaki. "And everything has been set in place for your absence. Should you not return-"


    "I entrust the defense of Kalthak to Asim and you, of course," said Sahshir, rising to his feet. He put his hand to the Sword of Order. "You must ensure our independence, should the need arise. We shall not become an extension of West Kalthak, whatever Tuor and Belosh scheme."


    "I understand," said Sushaki.


    Sahshir nodded to Narcissa and began to walk toward the ships on other piers. As he did, Narcissa shifted. Suddenly, she did not want him to leave. "Are you sure you don''t want me to accompany you, Sahshir? I could help you on the journey."


    "I am certain you could," said Sahshir. "You are among the best of my subordinates.


    "However, I need you here to rule over your people. Alkela will more than suffice for our purposes. And having her absent will help in purifying the more barbaric traditions."


    Sahshir was a sea of contradictions. He''d never been anything but respectful to Narcissa. Even as he regarded her culture as mere barbarism. Yet he had saved her people, led them here to salvation. Without him, the legions of Dinis should have killed them all. "Well, what about Isamu and his group?" asked Narcissa. "They''re loyal to West Kalthak; what if they turn on you? We don''t trust Tuor for a reason, why not-"


    Then Sahshir laughed, and it was oddly mirthful as he turned to her. "Narcissa, you don''t need to worry.


    "I do not think I am coming back in any case."


    He said it without resignation or fear; it was a simple statement of some minor fact. As if it wasn''t important."What? What do you mean?"


    "I do not think the Heaven''s Eye will be able to heal me," admitted Sahshir. "And that is only if we reach it at all. The quest itself will be dangerous and may claim our lives."


    "But then why go?" said Narcissa. Why was he so obsessed with these things?


    "Because Baltoth commands I find it," said Sahshir. "The quest lies before us and must be completed.


    "To do otherwise is to betray him."


    "But how do you even know Baltoth wills this?" asked Narcissa. "Maybe Tuor is acting on his own."


    "Baltoth no doubt knows the quest is underway even now. He has eyes everywhere," said Sahshir. "It is well within his power to stop the quest. So, he must mean to integrate it into his plan, assuming it is not his will. As for betrayal, I have set in motion precautions. That is why I sent Nayasha away to Tuor''s dominions. She has her own task to perform.


    "Sushaki, what progress has been made on that front?"


    "The fortifications are well underway, as you requested," said Sushaki, rising. "It will take time, but soon, our coastline will be impenetrable. King Nagos has been helpful in this regard. The Chaminean Architects arrived last week."


    "Good, all is underway then," said Sahshir. "It''s time." He paused for a moment as if searching for something to say. Then, he seemed to remember something. "Narcissa, should I die, there is a box on my desk. This key will open it. What lies within is for your eyes only."


    "Now hold on..." began Narcissa.


    "Goodbye," said Sahshir before walking away.


    Narcissa had had enough; the man was walking to what he believed was certain death, and for what? Moving forward, she barred his path. "Stop! How can you be so calm about this?! If you think you''ll die on the mission, send someone else! You''re too important to me, to Kalthak, to just walk off like this!


    "If you die, everything will collapse! Asim will start going after merchants again; my people and yours will be at war!"


    "No, they won''t," said Sahshir. "The land has changed, and men understand one better now. More to the point, I am dying anyway.


    "Soon, whether I go to Gel Carn or remain, I shall die, and my Kingdom shall pass to another. This is beyond my control if I remain here. If I achieve the Heaven''s Eye, I may be healed and so be able to create a dynasty.


    "If not, you and Kushina must see that my legacy endures."


    "Is your legacy the only thing important to you, Sahshir?" asked Narcissa, and she wanted him to say something. She wasn''t sure what, to declare his friends were the source of his motive, or that he loved her. Anything but his complete absence of self!


    He deserved better than that.


    Sahshir scoffed. "Of course not. But what we leave the world as when we die is all that matters.


    "Goodbye, Narcissa."


    And he was beyond her reach.


    When the ships were gone, and none could see, Narcissa wept.

 Chapter 318 - Seven: Defeat

    No one had been hurt in the sparring, so Oresa wasn''t sure what to do. She''d never liked fighting anyway, and that wasn''t her job. She was supposed to protect and heal, which she was good at. Well, healing, really, she wasn''t very good at protecting her friends just yet.


    King Sahshir had spent most of the time on the trip within his quarters. He occasionally spoke to the soldiers or directed them on some task. However, he never had anything to say to her or the others. And that made her wonder why he''d personally requested their presence anyway.


    Urus had suggested several theories. Cadas had said nothing, of course. Isamu wasn''t interested as he parried a thrust from one of the sailors. Oresa crept up toward the door of Sahshir''s cabin. She saw Alkela enter it just before she got to the top and wondered what they were talking about.


    Oresa drew out her Listening Stone, the one Father had given her for her twelfth birthday. Yet she heard nothing at first from within. Of course, Oresa was so stupid; Alkela was using sign language.


    "Again?" asked Sahshir. "The man lives for fighting, it seems. How many men have done well against him?


    "As expected, few. No matter, it is of no concern."


    More sign language.


    "Alkela, I am well aware that Isamu is trying to bait me into dueling him again," said Sahshir. "However, since he is shallow, I shall concern myself with deeper subjects." What deeper subjects? Sahshir had not spoken at all with anyone. Oresa guessed Alkela had given him an answer.


    "I defeated him once before, hoping to shut him up," replied Sahshir. "He just rechallenged me."


    "You could defeat him instead of fighting him," suggested Tuor, who had been silent until now.


    There was silence for a moment.


    "...Excellent point, Tuor," said Sahshir. "Tell me, how many have been injured, Alkela?


    "No one, that''s a surprise."


    Why did King Sahshir seem to hate Isamu so much? He was acting as if he was just a thug. But Isamu would never permanently hurt someone in a spar. He was always careful to avoid doing it. And Oresa was always on hand to heal the bruises.


    Isamu challenged people because he wanted them to become stronger themselves.


    "Has she played any part in the spars?" asked Sahshir.


    She? Who was Sahshir talking about? It couldn''t have been Alkela, but he must have been talking about Oresa.


    "I believe her idea of training is to heal injuries," said Tuor.


    "Well then, I believe I have my target," said Sahshir.


    And then Oresa heard Sahshir coming toward the door. In a panic, she drew up the stone and ran to the lower deck. There, Isamu had stopped sparring. Urus and Cadas were in battle with several of the guards. They were fighting very well, actually. Especially since the Silent Guard had been left behind.


    But why?


    Why had Sahshir left the Silent Guard behind?


    "So, who''s next?" asked Isamu. "Come on, beat Urus or Cadas, and I''ll take you on myself."


    Urus finished parrying a thrust and knocked the man flat with an open palm. At the same time, Cadas threw down his own enemy. Oresa immediately healed them while Isamu stood with his sword at the ready. The guards, meanwhile, seemed to be speaking amongst one another. As if deciding who ought to try next. They''d put forward quite a few of their own.


    "Isamu, we have an audience," said Urus.


    Oresa looked up and saw that, sure enough, Sahshir had emerged. With him were Alkela and Tuor, both of them observing. Isamu looked irritated at their presence. "Abdul, what do you want?"


    Oresa thought Sahshir would flare up at this, yet he did not. He merely looked over Urus, Cadas, and Isamu last. "I''m seeking an opponent to spar against if you must know."


    "Fair enough," said Isamu as Urus and Cadas formed before her. "So, take your pick."


    Sahshir motioned with his steel hand. As he did, Isamu smirked. "Urus looks like you up."


    "I was not pointing to him," replied Sahshir. "Step aside."


    Urus did step aside, and Oresa looked up from her healing to realize Sahshir was pointing at her. She looked behind her and saw no one. Standing up, she backed away.


    "Princess Oresa," said Sahshir simply.


    "What?" said Oresa. "You... you''re challenging me; why?"


    "What are you doing, picking on a girl?" asked Isamu.


    "A girl who is part of your warrior companions. I assume she can fight," said Sahshir.


    "I... yes, I can," said Oresa. "Or, well, I got some pointers from Isamu."


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    "Leave her alone!" snapped Isamu. "If you want a fight so badly, then fight me, you ugly bastard!"


    "Overreacting as always," said Sahshir as his guards set hands to swords. "No one is going to be harmed within it. It is merely a means by which we test our skills against one another. I''ve noticed that Oresa has not participated in any matches, and I''m curious about her abilities."


    "I..." Oresa shifted. She''d been afraid of getting in the way all this time, but it was a legal move. She was one of Isamu''s companions, so beating her was a legitimate move. "Well, I..."


    "Don''t do it, Oresa," said Urus.


    "Why don''t you let her answer for herself," said Sahshir. "Does she not outrank you?"


    "It''s fine, Isamu," said Oresa. "I''ve got to prove myself stronger." It was just a spar, anyway.


    "Then let us begin," said Sahshir, drawing out the Sword of Order. "Alkela, would you take the Sword of Order from me." And he handed it over.


    Tuor, who had moved away while no one was looking, returned. "Sahshir!"


    Sahshir glanced back, and Tuor hurled a blade at him. It spun through the air, and Sahshir caught it. Then, Oresa saw the markings and realized what it was. "A Ghost Blade..."


    "I''m told you broke yours at Zigilus," said Tuor. "I felt I ought to restore one to you."


    "As you wish," said Sahshir, voice odd. "Thank you."


    Then Tuor hurled another such blade at Oresa. She caught it and nearly fell off her feet with the weight. Raising it up, she took such a stance as she could remember. Sahshir took a similar view, and there was no overconfidence there. No anger or condescension, no underestimation.


    Sahshir was treating her as a threat.


    As the guards formed a circle around them, Oresa realized she had miscalculated.


    "Begin," said Tuor.


    Sahshir surged forward, and Oresa saw his blade coming toward her. Acting on reflex, she rolled away in the nick of time. Even as she did, however, she slipped and landed on her knees.


    "Oresa!" said Isamu.


    Oresa knew Sahshir would be doing a killing blow next. Ghost Blades sent people to sleep so he didn''t have to hold back. So, she created a shield around herself as best she could. However, the orange defense was hit and shattered as she stood. She barely ducked in time and felt the wind of his blade go over her head.


    Her sword was struck from her hand and sent spinning away. Turning, she sprinted to grab it but slipped and fell onto her knees. He could have ended it there, but Sahshir waited as she raced across the deck and grabbed it.


    Turning around, Oresa took a stance as best she could.


    "Oresa, forfeit! You''ve got to forfeit!" said Isamu.


    "No, no, I won''t give up! Not this time!" said Oresa, more to herself. Then she raised a shield and moved forward, using the shield to cover her side. However, Sahshir surged forward and leaped over her as she moved forward. He shattered her shield with one blow of his sword, then drew it back. Then, as Oresa turned to parry, he moved around her to remain behind her.


    Oresa turned again, but he backed away. As he did, he caught her blade with his own, made a motion, and disarmed her.


    "That shield is useless against me," said Sahshir. "You are not using your will as you ought to. Alkela, give her my sword."


    Alkela moved forward, the Sword of Order, and handed it to Oresa. As she took it, she felt power flow through her arms. It was as if she was holding a star in her hands, and the light of it made her every move easy.


    "I..." Oresa adjusted the blade in her hands, and as she did, she remembered her old training. She''d been holding the blade wrong; that was why he''d disarmed her so easily.


    Then Isamu stepped forward quickly between them. "Oresa, stand back. Let me handle this guy."


    "That would be illegal," said Sahshir. "The terms set were that I must overcome one of your warriors to face you. Are you going to give me special treatment because I am royalty?"


    "That''s a technicality, and you know it. Oresa is-" began Isamu.


    "Let her speak for herself," said Sahshir. "Does Isamu possess control of Oresa''s will? Is she no more than an automaton to be commanded to stand back?


    "Do you choose to forfeit, or do you not?"


    "I..." Oresa realized why Sahshir had targeted her. He''d observed that the others were always sheltering her because they knew how weak she was. "I..."


    "Your grip on that sword is too tight," said Sahshir, moving forward and sheathing his weapon. "You need to be able to move it." Then he grasped her hands and adjusted them with his own. "Like so."


    "Good," said Sahshir. "Unfortunately, that is not your only failing.


    "You have a weak footing. Your feet are too close together. Without a strong foundation, nothing stands." Setting a hand to her shoulder, he put pressure, and Oresa stumbled back.


    "Leave her alone!" said Isamu. "Or we''ll have our rematch right here and now!"


    "I forfeit," said Oresa quickly.


    There was no more point in wasting anyone else''s time here. She was clearly outmatched, and she gave the blade back. Sahshir took it and sheathed it. Then he acknowledged Isamu. "You need not concern yourself; I was done instructing her anyway."


    "You call that teaching?" asked Isamu.


    "Actually, yes," said Sahshir. "I think she appreciates what it means to be a warrior more now.


    "Still, her failure is not really her fault.


    "It is yours.


    "You have included her in your warrior band purely as a status symbol and nothing else. She is eager to please. Yet you expect nothing from her save for healing your injuries.


    "Her failure is your responsibility, Isamu, because you are her leader. And to be a leader is to be responsible."


    Well, that was, uh... harsh. Very harsh. Not fair either, was it?


    "You could have done far worse," said Sahshir, and then he walked off.


    Oresa didn''t know whether to be furious, depressed, or happy. On the one hand, she''d been utterly defeated, but that was to be expected. And Sahshir didn''t seem to think her weakness was entirely her fault. But that wasn''t fair to Isamu and the others at all.


    Isamu seemed speechless, torn between rage and shock. Urus was speaking to him in private, and Cadas was remaining silent. The guards, meanwhile, seemed in a far better mood. They were acting as though Sahshir had beaten Isamu. Not just merely humiliating the weakest member of his group. Well, it looked that way.


    Sahshir had made it look like Isamu was a bad leader, but that wasn''t true. Oresa looked to where Sahshir had gone to the front of the ship with Tuor. She raised her listening stone, a gift from her father. It amplified sounds and brought them to her.


    "You''ve grown, Sahshir," said Tuor.


    "Hmm?" asked Sahshir.


    "You have become powerful in your own way," said Tuor.


    "I had many teachers of great quality," said Sahshir.


    "Myself among them, I hope?" said Tuor, a levity in his voice.


    "You are among them," said Sahshir. "Your training was the root of what created who I am now. For that, I am grateful. Just as I am grateful to Aresh for the years he spent teaching me."


    "And your hostility before?" asked Tuor.


    "Your presumption offended me; however, the matter is now behind us," said Sahshir.


    The two of them fell into silence.


    "Might I inquire about other teachers?" asked Tuor after a moment.


    "Nagos, the King of Chaminus," said Sahshir. "His philosophy has great value."


    Nagos, the King of the Seas? He''d become a legend in Western Kalthak. Oresa had heard all kinds of stories of his adventures. Once, he''d even slipped into the palace, and no one had even known it was him until after he introduced himself. Oresa remembered he''d seemed very kind.


    "Would you share it?" asked Tuor.


    "Nagos believes in dealing with the moment. He says that one should only concern yourself with what you can affect," said Sahshir.


    "A valuable mindset. But to move without consideration to the future is dangerous," said Tuor.


    "No philosophy is perfect," said Sahshir. "But it was Nagos'' stance on revenge that fascinated me. When the Emperor of Dinis harmed Nagos, he did not seek to hurt him. Instead, he gave him advice, leading to him dying gloriously and securing his legacy. He also convinced him to heal the injury he had done." Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "An interesting concept," said Tuor. "Perhaps a wise policy, but I do not see how it counts as vengeance."


    "One is only who they are now, in Nagos'' mind," said Sahshir. "If Octavus had gained glory and become a just Emperor, he would not be the same man. When he died saving his fleet, the spoiled Prince who Octavus had been was destroyed. He ceased to be the wealthy parasite and became one worthy of his rank.


    "So, from a certain perspective, Nagos killed his enemy."


    "I''ve found that kunai is a much more efficient means of vengeance," laughed Tuor. "Still, do you mean to say that Aresh and I are different people?"


    "You are not my father," said Sahshir flatly. "You inherited his responsibilities and powers, but you are not him. You will be disappointed if you wish for me to obey you as a son.


    "But, as a teacher and valuable ally, I will acknowledge you as much."


    Tuor remained silent for a long time. "...Thank you, Sahshir."


    Oresa had come to a decision. She needed to get stronger to help Isamu and the others. And she required training from someone outside of the group to do it. Isamu always treated her as something of protection.


    Well, she needed Sahshir''s help.

 Chapter 319 - Eight: The Paradox of Power

    Oresa spent the next day trying to work up the courage to ask.


    During this time, Isamu did not spar nearly as much. Instead, he spent his time speaking with Urus and Cadas about something. She wasn''t sure what, but she remembered the traitor god Rammas being mentioned.


    Making her way up the stairs to the upper deck, Oresa halted and saw Sahshir speaking with Alkela. The beautiful blonde was leaning against the ship''s railing, her hair let down. Sahshir had his arms crossed. "Alkela, how far are we from Sorn now?"


    Alkela made sign language with her hands. Sahshir shifted and then nodded. "That far, then.


    "I had hoped we were almost there."


    Alkela made other signs. There was a sardonic expression on her face. Sahshir sighed as he read her hands. "Yes, yes. I''m aware that Sorn is a vast way away. I am not saying my wishes were rational."


    Oresa gulped, swallowed her fear, and headed forward toward him. "Excuse me..."


    Sahshir turned around to face her while Alkela shrugged. Sahshir moved forward. "Princess Oresa?"


    "...I, well..." Oresa shifted from foot to foot. Finally, she bowed with as much humility as she could manage. Don''t screw this up. "Please train me!"


    Alkela shook her head and began to walk away. However, Sahshir looked hard at her, taking what she said thoughtfully. "You wish for me to train you? Why?"


    "I..." Oresa paused. "I''ve been trying to be of use to Isamu all this time, but no matter what I do is, drag him down. Everyone tolerates me, and all I can do is heal their cuts.


    "I need to become stronger for-"


    "I can''t train you," said Sahshir, cutting her off.


    "What?" said Oresa. "But...


    "But why?"


    "Strength does not come from others," said Sahshir, raising his steel hand. "What you are and what you become is a result of your actions. And to achieve anything, it requires resolve and strength of will."


    "But I am resolved, I-" began Oresa.


    "If Isamu, Urus, and Cadas accepted you as an equal today, would you still want training?" asked Sahshir.


    "What do you mean?" asked Oresa, not understanding what he meant. "They... they do regard me as an equal." They did, didn''t they?


    "And yet they do not trust you to participate even in a spar," said Sahshir. "You disobeyed their desires to even accept the match."


    "Well, yes, but they want to protect me," said Oresa, not seeing where he was going with this.


    "Then they do not regard you as an equal," said Sahshir with a shrug. "One may be superior to another and still have their best interest at heart."


    "Yes, I know," said Oresa, feeling miserable. "Everyone... everyone always has to go out of their way to protect me, but I''m just not any use at all."


    "That is the root of your failure," said Sahshir simply. "You want to become powerful in your own right so that you can stand on an equal footing to Isamu."


    "No, I just want to be useful; I don''t think-" began Oresa.


    "You don''t think you can achieve what you want," surmised Sahshir.


    Oresa considered what he was saying. She thought about herself and her actions. "...No, no, I don''t."


    "And that is why I cannot train you," said Sahshir, looking at the above clouds. A sea breeze blew through their hair. "Victory comes from the will first and foremost. If you do not believe you can win, you are already defeated. Even if you seek to win out of principle, you shall not be able to see the path by which you could win.


    "Any training I might give you would be useless because you would lack the will to use it."


    "But..." Oresa paused, not understanding. What about hubris? "But the others are so much more powerful than me. How could I possibly hope to compare it to you or Isamu? I''m... wouldn''t that be arrogance."


    "Yes, it would," said Sahshir. "Your goal is unattainable at the moment."


    Oresa blinked, not understanding at all. "But you just said-"


    "You cannot hope to become stronger than Isamu or me right now," said Sahshir simply. First, he says she is hopeless, then he says he''ll help her, then he doubles back. "It will take discipline and a great deal of effort. By the time you reach that point, you might not want it anymore.


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    "You have set yourself the impossible goal of comparing to gods in strength. And since you know it is impossible, you do not want to try."


    "But..." said Oresa, beginning to grasp his point. "But then what do I do?"


    "For now?" asked Sahshir, returning to her and adjusting his mask. "You must set an immediate goal that is attainable. In your case, basic competence. Have surpassing Isamu as something you want, but do not make it the sole qualifier of your value.


    "Don''t concern yourself with competing with gods and emperors; you will lose. Focus your efforts on improving and overcoming what challenges you can. Then, you will increase in power and be able to overcome more significant challenges.


    "Then, sooner or later, you may find yourself an equal to him." Did he mean that? Or was he telling her what she wanted to hear like so many others?


    "But..." asked Oresa, looking for something to say. "But what if I drag the others down? All I''m good for healing."


    "If you cannot perform any service to his company that assists him, then you should not be part of it," said Sahshir. Raising a hand, he adjusted the fingers of his steel hand with the other. It was now formed into a fist. "Find some other place to use your services where your skills would have value and be valued."


    "But they''re my family!" said Oresa. "I... I may be a Princess, but I''m the daughter of one of King Belosh''s wives. According to the traditions of Western Kalthak, the King may have many wives. I have dozens of sisters, and well... I was just lost in a crowd.


    "When I trained to be a Priestess of Baltoth, I was deemed unfit, and Kushina effortlessly got the task. The only worthwhile thing I did was heal some people with my ability, and then...


    "Then, I met Isamu. He saved me from bandits, and we traveled together. Urus and Cadas joined us; although they bicker, we belong together.


    "I...


    "I don''t think I could do it."


    "Well, then you know your limitations, and that is a strength Isamu does not have," said Sahshir. He sounded pleased.


    "What?" said Oresa.


    "Isamu was born with immense power, and he has great skill," said Sahshir, glancing at Alkela. "However, he is overconfident and does not learn. He also does not value you, Uryu, or Cadas as he ought to."


    "That''s not true," said Oresa. "Isamu... well, he may be rough around the edges, but he is actually incredibly kind."


    "How?" asked Sahshir.


    "What do you mean?" said Oresa.


    "What has he done that is kind?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, he''s always protecting other people, even when he doesn''t have to," said Oresa. "He hates injustice, always trying to help the less fortunate."


    "So have I," noted Sahshir, voice annoyed.


    "Um... well, yes, you''re a good person too, but Isamu-" said Oresa.


    "I am a void, Oresa," said Sahshir. "My ''friends'' are valued only insofar as they are of emotional value to me. I seek their well-being. But were they to die, it would be like losing a possession. My morality is adopted because I have chosen to live according to the code of Baltoth.


    "Whatever virtues I possess have nothing to do with kindness. How do you know Isamu is different? He could be putting up a pretense."


    "Well, yes, but my mother always said that kindness is an act," said Oresa. "The people of your land, I talked to them, and... they really love you."


    "But I cannot return that feeling," noted Sahshir as a simple statement of fact. "I love nothing, even if I behave in a ''good'' fashion.


    "So, once again, how do you know that Isamu is not the same?"


    "Well, I..." Oresa thought about it and realized Isamu didn''t talk to her much. Did she really know him? Perhaps he didn''t think of her the way she did him. What if he was like Sahshir?


    "Have you considered the possibility that Isamu might regard you as nothing but an object?" asked Sahshir. "A pretty face whose presence adds to his status and lets him take care of injuries? That whatever ''kindness'' he might have for you is a means of feeding his own image as a hero."


    "Isamu isn''t like that at all," said Oresa, feeling the need to defend her friend.


    "But have you considered it?" asked Sahshir.


    Oresa thought about what that would mean and felt awful. What would it be like if Isamu hated or didn''t care about her? "...Well, I am now."


    Alkela facepalmed.


    "Good," said Sahshir, and he nodded. "It means you are not his slave." Then, he drew out the Sword of Order and handed it to her. "Take this. We''re going to train."


    "But you said you couldn''t train me," said Oresa.


    "I couldn''t train who you were," said Sahshir. "Now, I will show you how to wield a sword, among other things. It will take discipline and endless attention.


    "Are you ready?"


    Oresa shifted. "Yes, Master."


    "Good," said Sahshir. "Then let''s begin." S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Oresa had gotten what she wanted, though she felt she''d regret it in a bit.


    And so it began.


    The first thing Sahshir did was help her brush up her stances. Oresa had yet to train with a sword in a long time, and wielding one now was difficult. She spent days refreshed in the basic skills she''d been taught. It was disturbing how much she''d forgotten. Eventually, he began teaching her meditations and how to center herself. Both were difficult for her, and Oresa wasn''t sure it would help.


    She was learning a bit about herself. All Sahshir''s questions did that, but how would learning about herself help?


    Eventually, Isamu started sparring again. One day, Urus climbed the stairs while Oresa practiced with the sword. "Oresa, can I get your help?"


    Oresa looked up in surprise and stood up. "What is it, Urus?"


    "Some of the men were injured in an accident," said Urus. "Some barrels broke loose and hit them. Could we get your help?"


    "I, well, of course-" began Oresa as she stood.


    "You do not need to worry," said Sahshir simply. "I have healers on the ship. You three, go to deal with the matter. Our lessons should not be disturbed."


    "But what if I could help one of them?" asked Oresa.


    "Are any of their injuries serious?" asked Sahshir of Urus.


    "No, not really," admitted Urus. "Your assistance is appreciated."


    "Then you will focus on this, Oresa," said Sahshir. "I sense that my healers have already arrived, anyway."


    Oresa shifted. "But shouldn''t I try to help everyone I can?"


    Sahshir shook his head. "No one person can be everywhere at once. You must focus your efforts on what will achieve your will. Let others handle their own place, for they know it well enough. And if they do not, they must learn." Then he stood up and walked past Urus. "Continue practicing until I return. I must speak with Tuor."


    Oresa really hoped this would actually help. The last attempts at training she''d done had all ended the same way. She doubted Sahshir would let her get away with giving up, though, so she held her tongue.

 Chapter 320 - Nine: Arrival

    The journey continued.


    Sahshir spent much of his time strengthing Oresa''s will and her ability to wield power. Her lack of confidence limited her power. There had been progress in this regard. However, Sahshir thought she would be helpful in direct combat sometime soon.


    Still, she could be more valuable in a support role.


    One morning, Sahshir found Tuor standing at the prow of the ship. He was gazing for the distant lands beyond. He turned to where Sahshir was and smiled. "Ah, Sahshir, you''re up at last. How goes your training with the Princess?"


    "Well enough," said Sahshir. "Though she has much room for improvement."


    "Well, in any case," said Tuor, drawing out a sealed case. "The merfolk arrived with a message for you from King Nagos."


    "Thank you," said Sahshir, taking the case.


    Unsealing it, he drew out a sealed scroll. Sure enough, there was the symbol of Namina upon it, a faceless figure with an outstretched hand. Breaking the seal, Sahshir looked at the letter and read aloud;


    "''To Abdul,


    ''It''s been way too long since we were face to face. I''ve been busy with all that''s been going on with the recent truce. Serna and I have had to go to many different islands, rarely staying for more than a week. All kinds of people have needed managing, and finding the people to run things has been hard.


    ''I''ll be glad to see you in Sorn. Carath Magnious has put my household up. Is Narcissa with you? I''d love to see her again? Serna is with me at the moment.


    ''Oh right, and I should tell you that Sen Kaba is here too. We got his ransom, which helped a lot, but he has mostly stayed the same. Though at least he isn''t holding a grudge or is pretending not to. He keeps saying he''s a businessman and isn''t interested in revenge.


    ''Personally, it''s a way to distance himself from what he''s been doing.


    ''Either way, Sorn is nice enough. A lot cleaner than most of the Islands of Power, and everyone here is very polite. However, I don''t think much of their ideology. They are very big on something they call Social Suvvesianism. The basic idea is that the rich are rich because of natural superiority. Meanwhile, the poor are doomed to be destroyed by some natural process.


    ''Ignoring the fact that poor people have more children than the rich, of course. Going by this ideology, doing nothing to help the less fortunate is an act of charity. But at least they aren''t killing them. They leave that to the workhouses.


    ''Anyway, I''m running out of pages, so I''ll finish up. Sen has some projects he is working on, which I''m not allowed to discuss in letters. You might be interested in it. The basic goal is to save the world. I know you feel saving the world isn''t worth it if we give up our souls. But some of the stuff he''s done here is really impressive.


    ''-Your friend,


    ''Nagos.


    ''P.S:


    ''Whatever you do, don''t trust anybody here. They''re all very nice people, but I expect most would knife you for a few silvers if it was convenient.''"


    Sahshir couldn''t help himself and laughed. As he did, Tuor seemed taken aback. "What is it?"


    Yes, he had, though Tuor had forgotten. "I can never read Nagos," said Sahshir. "The man is either two-faced or a god in human form."


    "It''s possible," mused Tuor."Vacant domains of power are eventually filled. The Domain of Friendship has been without a god for some time."


    "You think Nagos is the new one?" asked Sahshir, not taking the comment seriously.


    "I think nothing," said Tuor, shaking his head. "One should never make a judgment until you have had a chance to examine the situation. Unless, of course, time demands you make one without any prompting, then it is better to act on your best guess."


    "What do you think of Sorn, Tuor?" asked Sahshir, deciding to get his view on the subject.


    Tuor paused. "I believe they place too much emphasis on money. Otherwise, they have a society worthy of aspiration."


    "In what way?" asked Sahshir, who had disliked Sorn since having to fight them.


    "Those too weak to thrive are used until they are destroyed," said Tuor. "No noble titles are required to gain power; one needs only possess the will and ability to gain it. Far superior to the divine right wielded by their Harlenorian ancestors. Without a class system, one may rise freely."


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    "And what of those who cannot rise?" asked Sahshir.


    "The weak, if they do not grow stronger, should be purged, lest they drag down the strong," replied Tuor.


    "Is strength the end goal of all societies?" asked Sahshir, curious as to his answer.


    "Of course," said Tuor.


    "Why?" asked Sahshir.


    "Without it, one would be destroyed," said Tuor. "Civilizations must thrive for power and strength above all else."


    "Even if it compromises moral integrity?" asked Sahshir.


    "Morality in its ultimate form is mere pragmatism," said Tuor, shaking his head. "Pragmatism dictates one act about what one calls virtue. However, it is ultimately merely a subordinate to power, if a powerful one.


    "No Empire may be founded without a moral foundation. But it is simply one more means of control in the end. Other elements are as important."


    "You are wrong, Tuor," said Sahshir. "The only purpose for virtue is virtue itself. Strength is but one of the rewards inherent to virtue. A society that disregards what is right for the sake of power shall only weaken itself. Meanwhile, a society that remains virtuous shall have power.


    "As such, all things must be arrayed to create men who strive to do what is right. Then the rest will follow naturally."


    "A somewhat naive perspective," mused Tuor. "Harlenor was such a place under Anoa the Bright. While Baltoth rules through fear as much as ideology."


    "Is Harlenor, not His greatest rival?" asked Sahshir.


    Tuor said nothing for a long moment. He seemed to contemplate inner doubt, and Sahshir wondered what it was. "Officially, yes," said Tuor at last. "But he is more concerned for threats from within. Nations and ideologies are but illusions. An illusion can be a powerful asset, but ultimately, all men seek power over others. Some do it by making pretensions to benevolence. Others ignore the rules that have been set in place.


    "By your own admission, you seek to live a virtuous life because you seek to follow a code. Not because you feel an obligation to others. You follow the code of Baltoth because religion was a rock of stability in a chaotic time. I am not condemning your use of religion; it has made you powerful."


    "Then I shall act as though the illusion was real," replied Sahshir. "For a world where such an illusion was not heeded would be a hell."


    "And there you see the paradox that all-powerful men must come to understand," said Tuor, "if they are to remain so.


    "Still, it is of no further consequence.


    "Once we have arrived in Sorn and the negotiations are underway, we will slip away. The Revenant''s pass will be watched, but there are other ways through. I know of a passage through the Ghost Mountains that leads straight to Southern Harlenor. Only a few know of it, and those that do stand in terror of it.


    "If fortune favors us, we may well reach Gel Carn undetected. For it is mostly empty lands beyond the road, we will take."


    "And what is the catch?" asked Sahshir.


    Tuor smiled fondly. "It is the Road of Ancient Stone that we will be taking. There are realms of horror in that place that few could stand to walk.


    "But our company is not most men.


    "So, it is within our means."


    "I will not leave Sorn until negotiations have been finished," said Sahshir.


    "A wise decision, we will need to use Sorn as our escape," said Tuor. "Were the war to erupt again, we could face serious problems."


    A man approached Sahshir and saluted. "King Sahshir." S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sahshir turned to him. "Yes?"


    "We have arrived," said the man.


    Sahshir looked at the sight of Sorn''s mainland. It was mostly green but of a drabber, less pleasant than the Islands of Power. Heavy clouds of rain hung overhead, and there were many cliffs. Along the shore were numerous huge stones raised with symbols carved into them.


    "What is that there on the cliffs," asked Sahshir.


    "The runes of Coinfurth," said Tuor. "Sorn is a land with many wars with the merfolk and lizardfolk. Sen Kaba has erected many runes at his own expense, meant to repulse all races of that kind."


    Just looking at them as they drew nearer hurt the eyes. Even when Sahshir looked away from it, the stones seemed to exude hostility. He suddenly wanted to return home and focus on anything else, but the feeling passed. Turning, he saw Isamu''s group rise for the morning. As they did, Cadas suddenly clutched his forehead and cried.


    "Cadas, what''s wrong?" asked Oresa.


    "My head, I.... I can''t think..." said Cadas.


    Tuor moved swiftly by him and kneeled. "One moment."


    Drawing out what seemed a necklace, he set it around Cadas'' neck. As he did, the huge man rose, rubbing his forehead. The pain seemed to have passed.


    "What did you do?" asked Isamu.


    "A minor charm to defend him," said Tuor. "It appears that Cadas has the bloodlines of some of the people of the Islands of Power. They were among those the runes were meant to repulse. I''m told the slaves are in agony until they reach the shoreline."


    "So does this mean they can''t be invaded?" asked Urus.


    "No, the power of the runes is dispersed the more wills set against it," said Tuor. "A truly vast army could bypass it with little ill effect. However, small raids to seize slaves or feast on villagers would be made far more difficult by this."


    Soon, they came into a cove and saw Suvera.


    Sahshir had heard of the Golden City of Suvera. A place where precious metals coated the roof and jewels were used as cobblestones. Sahshir had taken none of these very seriously, but it seemed there was a grain of truth. There were many vast and ornate buildings, and many taller ones were plated with gold.


    All of them were in the center, of course. Suvera was built so that the structures got taller the closer you got to the great temple. Since the great temple, with all its spires, was dead center in the city, it resembled almost a pyramid.


    There was also a magnificent sea wall that they''d had to pass through to get into the harbor. As they neared the pier, Sahshir stepped down first. His companions followed, and they saw a group waiting for them at the base. He''d hoped to be greeted by Nagos.


    He''d gotten Sen Kaba instead.


    Kaba had cut his hair shorter in the time since his month-long imprisonment. He was slightly more gaunt, but his eyes were the same steel. Though Sahshir did notice that his spirit did not seem so decayed as last time, he bowed cordially. "King Sahshir of Kalthak, we have awaited your arrival."


    "Sen Kaba, I was not expecting you to meet me on the docks," said Sahshir. "Or at all."


    "I am a businessman, not a knight," replied Kaba. "I do not hold grudges. And we need to cooperate."


    And then the halfling arrived.


    He was clad in a fine red waistcoat and held a black walking stick. He moved up, flanked by guards, and hurried up to Sahshir. "Oh, damn, late as usual.


    "You have my sincerest apologies, King Sahshir; business demands rarely wait for men. Sometimes, they get in the way of courtesy." Then he noticed Sen and his eyes hardened. "Kaba."


    "Carath," said Sen, and there was real hatred in his eyes.


    "Well, it is a veritable storm of former enemies here today, isn''t it?" asked Carath brightly.


    "Nagos arrived a week or two ahead of you, actually. Very nice fellow, far from the terror of the seas, the stories made him out as."


    "May I ask where he is?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, truth be told, I don''t know," admitted Carath. "He disappeared from his room suddenly. Even his own guards need to find out where he went.


    "But he did leave a note about walking the streets.


    "I don''t know why he''d want to do that. It isn''t safe."


    "King Nagos grew up working for pirates," mused Sahshir. "I expect he knows what he is doing."


    "Yes, he mentioned that," said Carath. "Actually, I had taken all the stories told of him to be a mere poetic exaggeration. But the man seems to hold a certain flair that speaks of practical experience. More than I have anyway." Carath laughed at that. "Well, if there is nothing else, we''ve prepared apartments for your company if you''ll come with me."


    Well, there was a somewhat tolerable company here. However, Sahshir was not going to dismiss Nagos'' warning.

 Chapter 321 - Ten: Reunited

    The House of Carath Magnious was a magnificent one.


    Unlike some of the others, there was genuine artistic integrity. In place of gold and jewels, there were marble statues and portraits. Most of them were of halflings, though a few were sculpted of notable humans. In particular, there was one to Suvvest the Great, which Carath kept in an out-of-the-way shrine.


    Suvvest was portrayed as a tall man clad in fine clothes. He wore a steel helmet with a fin and motioned toward the distance. At his side was a sword, and in his hand was a book. At his feet were riches, left as offerings.


    However, when Oresa had wanted to see it, Carath seemed more than a little reluctant. It seemed that Suvvest was a man held in high honor but not particularly liked. Sahshir found this to be a perplexing approach, to say the least.


    "Why would you make a statue of a hero if you hold him in contempt?" asked Sahshir.


    "It''s all about appearances," said Carath. "Presenting a united front to all men and such. Still, I shouldn''t say I hold Suvvest in contempt. I merely wouldn''t want to live anywhere near him."


    "Then surely he isn''t a hero at all," said Oresa.


    "Well, there are two kinds of heroes," said Carath. "The kind you admire because you want to be like them. And the kind you admire because you want to be them.


    "Suvvest was, in his time, the richest, most powerful man in Sorn. He created his empire largely to satisfy his own ego. Most ambitious men achieve greatness through the pursuit of desires. It gives them an excuse to do nothing for the society they live in."


    "And you don''t?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, I''m not what you call an ambitious man," said Carath. "I was born into a role prepared for me. Most of what I''ve been doing is keeping and consolidating the gains my Father, Caris, passed down to me.


    "Frankly, I should have moved to a nice manor in Antion years ago, if doing so wouldn''t hurt those I employ. Unattended business interests don''t last long in Sorn."


    At that moment, an old servant entered. "Master Carath, the meal is prepared."


    "Ah, yes, thank you, Maris," said Carath. "Come, let''s not put my servant''s efforts to waste. They are some very talented people."


    And so they went.


    The servants spoke politely to them, and Carath treated them respectfully. Sahshir marked this in Carath''s favor, though he rarely said so kindly. Men ought to perform their duty without complaint or reward.


    Now, however, they were eating a lovely meal. The sauces here looked different, though Sahshir would not know. Oresa and Carath were eating a satisfying meal. Sahshir was waiting until he could sit in private.


    "Do you require anything, food or wine?" asked Carath.


    "Calishans do not drink wine," said Sahshir. "Baltoth has forbidden it."


    "Ah, of course, my apologies," said Carath. "Though I imagine the Goddess of Revelry has a few objections."


    "I gather that Baltoth despises her," said Sahshir. "So it is of no concern. Tell me, is Nagos staying here?"


    "Ah, yes, nice fellow. I''m afraid he''s not here now," said Carath, having a servant pour him more coffee. "At any rate, Princess Oresa, I have set aside a wing where you and your entourage may stay. Likewise, I have the same for you, King Sahshir."


    "And what of Tuor?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Carath. "I had made the offer to him. However, he declined. He has some business with Kaba and means to stay at his residence for all the hospitality he will get.


    "I expect they have some business together.


    "I don''t think he regarded me as his sort, to be honest. Sen often houses foreigners."


    "What could the two want to speak about?" asked Oresa.


    "Concern yourself with others only insofar as they affect your actions," said Sahshir. "Whether you acted rightly or wrongly is the standard by which you will be judged."


    "I might know a thing or two about that, actually," said Carath. "Sen has been communicating with various sources in Eastern Kalthak for some years. He''s become quite interested in your nation.


    "Not to speak for him, but I expect the man is holding more of a grudge than he lets on.


    "He lives to satiate his ego; it''s why I cordially dislike the man." There was real hatred in that tone, however, though well hidden.


    "You sound like it''s more than cordial," said Sahshir.


    "Well, one should never have a relationship that isn''t cordial," said Carath with a shrug. "If you must put a knife in someone, best to do it for impersonal reasons. Don''t do it and let one of their other enemies buy a knife from you.


    "But this all looks pretty unpleasant.


    "It was a remarkable bit of generaling that setup back on McShore. Splendid heroics, certainly worthy of being written down."


    "I merely acted as duty demanded I do," said Sahshir. "If that is an achievement, it is only because men fail more than they should. Do you know what arrangements King Belosh made for himself?"


    "I''m told he will be staying with House Suvvest," said Carath. "They are considered to be of a greater sort than us. And the way Belosh has portrayed things, Eastern Kalthak are rebels. Albeit ones who did the not start the revolution which they are continuing."


    "We are not rebels," said Sahshir.


    "In terms of sheer wealth," said Carath. "House Suvvest and West Kalthak have a fairly tidy trade agreement when there isn''t a war on."


    "Then why is Nagos staying with you?" asked Oresa. "I mean, no offense, but well-"


    "It''s no trouble," said Carath. "The question had also occurred to me when he made the arrangements. It turns out a cannonball took off Yugos Suvvest''s arm in battle. Yugos was the head of the family, so, needless to say, he''s not at all pleased with the peace.


    "Nagos decided he''d rather not risk the man''s hospitality.


    "Still, House Suvvest is fading in power these days, anyway. Their primary stronghold is the Church of Coinfurth. The sooner someone breaks their power, the better everyone will be off."


    "Then they are religious?" said Oresa. "I''d love to learn a bit about Coinfurth from them?"


    "...Well, they embrace our lord''s work with enthusiasm, I suppose," said Carath after a moment.


    "Meaning they seek money, but not for Coinfurth?" guessed Sahshir.


    "More or less," said Carath. "Coinfurth has some unique concepts of faith and is purely concerned with results. If you want to speak of theology, you''re best off speaking with the Knights of the Coin. Would you care for some coffee, Princess?"


    "Yes, please!" said Oresa.


    Carath looked at Sahshir with worry. "And is there anything you would prefer to eat instead? You have not touched your food or drink?"


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    "I''m afraid that I''m not in the habit of eating at banquets," said Sahshir. "A disease has disfigured my body, and it is unpleasant to look at."


    "Ah, yes, well, I''ll have some sent up to you later so you can eat in private," said Carath.


    "Thank you," said Sahshir. "I will take the coffee.


    "What have you and Nagos been discussing?"


    Carath sat back in his seat. "Well, truth be told, he was asking for a loan."


    "A loan?" asked Oresa.


    "Yes, this messy business on McShore has left the whole place in ruins," said Carath. "A wholly unprofitable venture for all involved. It has to be rebuilt from the ground up. Nagos wants to take loans from several prominent merchants to fund the rebuilding."


    "But why would he do that?" asked Oresa.


    Sahshir opened his mouth to explain, then noticed Carath doing the same. Sahshir waved for him to speak. Carath smiled. "Simple enough, dear girl. So long as he is in debt, he''ll have to pay us off over time. And so long as we have a very real income from the plantations, we''ll have an incentive not to attack. I gather he''s doing the same with several Dinis merchant families."


    "So Nagos means to prevent war by making everyone invest in McShore?" mused Sahshir.


    "Yes, rather brilliant," said Carath. "Few men will be willing to destroy a system if it provides a regular income. Of course, all this relies on the island becoming profitable. That may not happen. As a point of fact, the island hasn''t made a profit in decades. Certainly, some individual men got rich, but most planters were heavily in debt. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It''s all very complicated, but the bottom line is that the system would have collapsed. It was only a question of who they''d take with them. You saved us a great deal of trouble by keeping us out of McShore.


    "I doubt the soldiers we killed would say the same," noted Sahshir.


    Carath went grim. "No, I suppose not.


    "The whole system is dreadfully unfair, to be honest. It is all about exploitation and loopholes these days. I had to learn all that in the days of my grandfather, Cirithil Magnious." He motioned to the hearth. "They''re on the wall over there."


    Sahshir saw two pictures of the man, who looked like an older version of Carath. "What happened?"


    "Well, Grandfather and Father were an old breed," said Carath. "All about honoring contracts in spirit and law. Father was too much of an old breed since he got cheated several times. I had to become rather ruthless at times to reclaim his holdings. That was when the enmity between House Kaba and myself got started.


    "Sen''s father, Andias, cheated Father using legal loopholes to avoid paying his dues. It nearly bankrupted us. And it was far from the worst thing the man ever did, a real brute that one¡ªmurder, extortion, brutality.


    "Some say he even kept the company of vampires. He''d often purchase slaves and ship them off, but nobody saw them again.


    "King Andoa keeps the vampires of House De Chevlon in line now; there are arrangements, you see. They pay people to let them drink from them, much as you or I might purchase food at the market. Or they use slaves.


    "But vampires get a certain thrill from completely draining some people. Some of the really evil ones have purchased slaves to drain completely. That''s where Andias'' slaves were going. Especially since he tended to pick attractive slaves.


    "He almost deserved what Sen did to him."


    "And what was that?" asked Sahshir.


    "Sen had his father declared insane and used it to seize control of his fortune," said Carath.


    "Andias was confined to a dark room and starved to death inside. Sen didn''t even bother with a funeral; he just threw his corpse in a ditch and left it at that. It was an unpopular choice, to say the least.


    "In his defense, Andias was the worst person imaginable. He started out only the ordinary sort of bad. But then he got a little worse every day, so he eventually became a veritable devil. He regularly beat his wife, and his servants lived in constant terror of him. He broke the leg of Sen''s younger brother at one point.


    "Although he was always very kind to his dog, there was probably some good in him. Of course, Sen killed the dog in front of him, which I think was going too far. But I digress. Anyway, Andias only got really bad when he started purchasing artifacts to do with the Fish King. That and Amysta, as well as several other demonic powers."


    "The Fish King?" asked Oresa. "You mean the God of the Unknown?"


    "Yes," said Carath. "The Fish King was where he put most of his efforts. Andias had been calling in scholars to try to translate the Fish King''s texts. Men kept being driven mad and killing themselves or hurting others. When they stopped agreeing to take Andias'' money, Andias started blackmailing them.


    "Then there were a series of murders that went through the city at that time. Nobody could prove anything. After Andias hung from a rope, they stopped. Coincidentally, Sen had several of his father''s men convicted on minor charges and hung.


    "Really, it did the whole city a favor.


    "Sen is not a charming company. But he''s far preferable to Andias. It''s why he''s been able to get away with so much. Or at least we believed so, though the recent fiasco with the Knights of the Coin-


    "Ah, Garrick, you''re here! What news!"


    Sahshir flinched and turned to see Garrick Estov walking out of the shadows. The gray-skinned warrior always had his man-sized sword on him, though he set it by the door. Moving forward, he bowed. "King Sahshir, it has been some time."


    "Yes, I observed your attempt on Kaba''s life," said Sahshir. "Good work."


    "Thank you," said Garrick. "Carath, I have gotten Finn and the others into the Headquarters. The Knights of the Coin are prepared if anyone comes after us."


    "Excellent, we should be prepared when things come about," said Carath. "Are you going to investigate now?"


    "Tomorrow," said Garrick. "There are several matters here to attend to."


    "Investigate what?" asked Oresa.


    "Several inconsistencies in the Church''s numbers," said Garrick. "Traditionally, this kind of thing falls to the Knights of the Coin. Or it did until House Suvvest took control of the Church. We''ve been somewhat sidelined now.


    "The wars we fought reduced our numbers. We were unable to perform all our duties. So it became necessary to have others begin analyzing numbers."


    Sahshir suddenly had the feeling that something was happening here. And he needed to speak to Nagos about it quickly. Carath and Garrick could not be relied upon as impartial witnesses. Also, he was sick of watching other people eat. "This is fascinating, Lord Carath; however, I need to speak to Nagos about matters. Would you be offended if I went out to seek him?"


    "Not at all; you are old friends," said Carath. "Garrick, lead these fine chaps around the city and see if you can help them find their friend."


    "As you wish, Lord Magnious," said Garrick.


    Soon enough, Garrick and Sahshir were making their way through the streets of Sorn. It was a well-built city, made of white stone in many places. Some areas were well-cleaned, others dirty. Garrick was leading them to a moderately urban area near the sea. The sea was quite beautiful, though the waters here seemed to have a greenish tinge.


    Looking closer, Sahshir saw that the tinge came from a strange light.


    "Why are you seeking Nagos?" asked Garrick suddenly.


    "I am not a man who enjoys socializing," admitted Sahshir. "When I give a command, my servants obey because they know it is given for a reason. And, since you have walked in their company for some time, I thought I might ask you for advice."


    "A wise policy," said Garrick. "Say nothing that could be taken as a promise. Speak at length while saying nothing. Be polite to all and be certain to praise the wealth of those whom you visit. Also, reward the servants generously.


    "Above all, speak little."


    "Why should I pay someone for performing their duty?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    "It allows one to make contacts who can give information later," said Garrick.


    "I reward men who perform their duty beyond expectations," said Sahshir. "Those who do the bare minimum are worthy of the minimum reward."


    "I, um, I feel one ought to be nice to everyone," said Oresa, who had tagged along.


    "Define ''nice,''" said Garrick.


    "Kind, understanding, patient," said Oresa. "Not expect too much."


    "If we do not expect great things from men, they will not achieve great things," replied Sahshir. "Where are you leading us?"


    "To one of the major taverns, one which is pleasant but not of high class," said Garrick. He stopped by such an establishment. It showed an image of an elf singing upon it. "It seems one Nagos would be interested in, given his upbringing."


    "So you don''t know where he is," guessed Sahshir.


    "No, however, if one analyzes what one knows, then one can quickly come to the truth," said Garrick. "If you do not reach the truth, you will be ready to adjust your plans.


    "For instance..."


    He opened the door and marched in. Sure enough, Nagos was sitting at a bar talking with a young woman with pink-dyed hair; what was her name again? She''d been an associate of Nagos during the war. Sahshir reflected she had somewhat strange eyes and decided not to press the matter. As they entered, Nagos looked up and ran toward him. "Hey, Sahshir!"


    Sahshir nodded at them. "Nagos, you are looking well."


    "Yes, well, I''ve been talking with people lately," said Nagos. "Sen has been hiring every person he can get his hands on who is literate. He''s also funded schools to teach children to read and guarantees them a job."


    "What kind of job?" asked Sahshir.


    "Translating books, mostly, from one language to another," said Nagos. "He''s expanded the size of the libraries in Sorn a lot. There are some other projects I probably shouldn''t talk about here," said Nagos. "But a few of them have gone... strange. See that one over there." He motioned.


    Sahshir saw an old man drinking heavily. He looked to Nagos for confirmation. "The old man?"


    "He''s twenty," said Nagos. "The research Kaba has had him doing gets to people. Look closer. Do you see any wrinkles or gray hairs on him?"


    "No," said Sahshir.


    "Right, it''s his spirit that''s gone old," said Nagos. "It happens in people who have seen way too much."


    "Kaba had business with Tuor about something," mused Sahshir. "This may be worth investigating once we have more time."


    "No need for that; I''ll explain the whole thing when we have time," said Nagos. He looked to Oresa and offered her a hand. "Oh, hello, Oresa, it''s been some time?"


    "I am..." Oresa took it. "I''m Princess Oresa of Western Kalthak. You remember me?"


    "Of course I do," said Nagos, "I remember everyone. How did becoming a Priestess of Baltoth go?"


    "Oh, um, not well," said Oresa. "But I ended up as part of a party of adventurers and seeing a lot of interesting places."


    "We ought to return to Lord Magnious'' manor," said Garrick. "We have a great deal to discuss."


    "Yes, you are right," said Sahshir. "Nagos, will you follow us? We should make plans for the negotiations."


    "We probably should, Nagos," said the pink-haired girl. "There are some things we need to discuss. We can''t talk to people all day."


    "Fine, you win, Serna," said Nagos. "This dive was getting old anyway."


    So her name was Serna? Sahshir made a mental note not to forget it again. Well, the group was back together, if nothing else.

 Chapter 322 - Eleven: Questioning Authority

    Isamu was in a bad mood.


    Ever since this damn journey had started, things had been one bad event after another. Oresa was spending all her time with Sahshir, and he hadn''t gotten the will to spar with anyone. Now, here he was on guard duty, sitting at the door to the council chamber.


    It annoyed him. Oresa could do what she wanted; of course, Isamu didn''t care how she spent her spare time. But they had been warrior companions for multiple lifetimes. And Sahshir had always been more of a lancer type until now.


    So maybe he did mind how she spent her time.


    Whatever. Isamu''s job as the hero was to punch whoever the reigning tyranny of the week wanted to be punched.


    "So here we are, once again, out in the cold," said Isamu.


    "We are here as guards, not honored guests, Isamu," said Urus, meditating as always. "We ought to expect to be shut out of negotiations."


    "Well then, why is Oresa attending the thing? She''s one of us," noted Isamu.


    "She is a Princess, after all," said Cadas.


    "Yeah, and Sahshir is keeping her on a leash," noted Isamu. The creep had been eyeing her this entire time, and Isamu didn''t like it.


    "She seems to be keeping herself in his company, actually," said Urus.


    "What?" said Isamu, surprised. "Why would she do that?"


    "Apparently, he is helping her with her training," said Urus.


    "Well, I could do that," said Isamu, annoyed.


    Urus and Cadas looked at him flatly. Isamu shifted beneath their gaze. "What? What are you looking at?"


    "One of us probably could have done it," mused Urus. "But we didn''t."


    "...So what are all these negotiations about?" said Isamu, trying to change the subject. Oresa had yet to ask for help. She was best at healing anyway; her shield spells weren''t any good.


    "Several things, actually," said Urus. "The obvious is that it provides a pretense for our mission. But that''s only one of many.


    "The primary purpose is establishing trade rights and how they should operate. King Nagos has been trying to arrange a system of free trade. One where merchants are allowed unrestricted access to any island. No more pirates, and hopefully, no more war."


    "Oh yeah, because the pirates are going to just give up raiding like that," said Isamu.


    "Nagos'' plan is a system of tariffs, so far as I can tell," said Urus. "Islands tax merchants for moving through their waters freely. No more piracy or raiding, so long as you pay the fee."


    "If it were that easy, why wouldn''t someone have done it by now?" asked Isamu.


    Urus tossed his staff into the air and caught it by the end with one finger. Balancing it, he shifted the quiver of his bow and arrows. "It isn''t that simple.


    "Until now, there have been so many different factions in the Islands of Power. Such an arrangement would have been impossible in previous decades. However, some islands would agree not to raid or pirate others individually. However, recent events have consolidated a great deal of that power. Great powers have the mastery of most of the islands.


    "Sorn controls the south. The High Elves hold the western isles, while the north belongs to Dinis and Calisha. And to the west, many pirate leaders are nominally aligned with Nagos.


    "With power consolidated, those same powers can now work out a deal with some ability to see it arranged."


    "Do you think it''ll work?" asked Isamu.


    "I hope so," said Urus. "If Calisha doesn''t have to fight on this front, we''ll have secured all our fronts but the west. We''ll be able to put our full attention on Harlenor and the High Elves. It should make our conquests that much easier."


    "Yeah, and we get to miss the entire war," noted Cadas.


    "Well, Oresa will probably be glad about that," said Isamu.


    So they waited. Urus and Cadas played with Sornian cards while Isamu paced back and forth. The guards of King Belosh eyed him warily before he looked right back, and they stopped.


    And eventually, Oresa reemerged. Urus moved forward to meet her, folding his game. "Oresa, you''re back."


    "Oh, hey, Urus," said Oresa. "Isamu, Cadas, how are you?"


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    "We''re pretty much waiting on Tuor at this point," said Isamu.


    "How are things progressing?" asked Urus.


    Oresa sighed. "The negotiations are dragging out. Everyone has their own ideas of what is reasonable, but I''m sure they''ll finish things. Sahshir, let me come out here."


    "We''re fine," said Isamu, looking at the city.


    He hated this place. East Kalthak was at least mostly wild, and you could see nature. But this place was all stones and walls. No grass or trees at all. And then there were other reasons.


    "Isamu, are you alright?" asked Oresa.


    "...This quest doesn''t make any sense," said Isamu.


    "What do you mean?" asked Oresa.


    "The Heaven''s Eye is Elranor''s relic," said Isamu. "Even if we could get it, and I''m sure Tuor has a plan for that, how would Baltoth use it? It''s not going to do any good."


    "Perhaps it has something to do with the Grail of Immortality?" mused Urus.


    "You mean that artifact Sahshir stole from Zigilus?" asked Oresa.


    "How are you going to use it with the Heaven''s Eye?" asked Isamu flatly.


    Urus paused. "The Reasonists were once responsible for guarding the Grail. That was before Rammas'' rebellion led to it being given to Tuor. We fell under suspicion because he had found us. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It allows one to reincarnate eternally with your memories, albeit with a cost. The Heaven''s Eye was documented to have powerful healing abilities. That and immense holy power to save entire armies and people. With both of them, it may be possible to achieve true immortality.


    "If I were to speculate, Baltoth may seek to break the chains of prophecy."


    "What prophecy? What are you talking about?" asked Isamu.


    Urus sighed. So this was one of those essential things Isamu was supposed to know about. Whatever, it wasn''t like Isamu needed to be in the know to hit people. Urus was the guy who knew stuff and kept him informed. "There is a prophecy that the Heir of Kings, a descendant of Anoa the Bright, will kill Baltoth and end his reign. That prophecy has dictated our foreign policy against Harlenor for centuries. It has, ever since the assassination of the last King of Harlenor United, Anoa the IX.


    "There were rumors earlier that the Heir of Kings had returned. Rumors have been confirmed.


    "It may be that Tuor intends to remove them in our journey to Gel Carn as well."


    "What are we even doing here, anyway?" asked Isamu. "I don''t see why Sahshir needs us?"


    "I expect his interest is more in Oresa," said Urus. "Given the healing power of the Heaven''s Eye, Sahshir likely wishes to heal his disease. He would likely wish to ask for her hand in marriage in such a situation."


    "He can''t do that!" said Isamu, louder than he should have.


    "It is a tradition between Western and Eastern Kalthak," said Urus flatly.


    But Oresa put a hand on Isamu''s shoulder. Her touch was warm, and Isamu wondered why things had never gone beyond this. It''s probably a lack of commitment and interest on his part. Besides, Oresa wasn''t really in love with him anyway. "You don''t have to worry, Isamu. Sahshir doesn''t view me that way."


    "You sure?" asked Isamu.


    "Yes, he..." began Oresa. "Well, he''s incredibly cold. But he is also dutiful and wants to bring out the best in people.


    "It''s strange, but even if he doesn''t care about people, I believe he is a good person.


    "He''s also incredibly dedicated to Baltoth."


    "That''s not to their credit," snapped Isamu.


    "Isamu?" asked Oresa. "What do you mean?"


    "Look, I know we all swear loyalty to Baltoth," said Isamu. "But what has he ever really done for Kalthak beyond taking taxes every year and drafting us for war?" He''d seen a lot of drafts over his life. Baelgost loved going to war, but Isamu usually just hunted bandits.


    Mass battles were not his thing. They were too messy, and you couldn''t enjoy the fight.


    "Baltoth saved us from Safara," noted Cadas.


    "And divided our nation up into two while he was at it," noted Isamu. "There didn''t use to be an Eastern Kalthak until he chopped the place up."


    "Isamu, you sound like Rammas," said Urus.


    "So what if I am?" asked Isamu. "Rammas rebelled because Baltoth had started forcing his damn laws on us. Crucifixions for every crime limit on marriage. We''re supposed to become poor copies of those damn Medi.


    "Hell, we''re even ruled by Medi now."


    "How can you say that?" asked Oresa. "Father is only half Meid. I mean, yes, I know our relations with the Medi haven''t always been perfect, but Baltoth saved us."


    "And now he''s starting her religion all over again in Dinis," said Isamu. "He didn''t stop Safara; he just forced her to work for him. Last I heard, Sahshir put up a temple to her some time ago.


    "The way I see it, Safara is still eating the world. Just on Baltoth''s behalf now."


    "I''m not fond of Medi myself," admitted Cadas.


    "Cadas!" said Oresa.


    "Before they conquered us, they often used us Drens as slave labor," said Cadas. "Valranor, let them subjugate us. Those days are long gone now, but that doesn''t mean we''ve forgotten it. And the Medi don''t think much of us when we meet them.


    "I like King Belosh and your family, but your ancestors adopted our customs."


    "Rammas betrayed Baltoth and tried to overthrow him," said Oresa. "If he''d succeeded, Calisha would have fractured."


    "Yes, that much is true," said Urus. "However, it is undeniable that Rammas had much support during his revolution. One does not gain support unless people have some reason to support him. One cannot inspire armies without a cause, after all.


    "And no one follows a cause they do not believe in."


    "Maybe, but it wasn''t the answer," said Oresa. Then, suddenly, she paused. "Urus, would you spar with me?"


    Urus blinked. "Are you certain?"


    "Yes, I wish to see how my skills have advanced," said Oresa.


    "As you wish," said Urus.


    The spar wasn''t nearly as one-sided as Isamu had expected.


    Urus was still far more powerful, easily controlling the combat. However, Oresa was not nearly as helpless as she''d been against Sahshir. Her shields kept extending the battle, and Isamu quickly lost interest.


    Finally, the battle halted.


    Urus and Oresa bowed to one another as she sheathed her blade. "...I see, so I''m not on your level quite yet. Still, I promise I won''t be such a hindrance in the future."


    "You were never a hindrance, Oresa," said Urus.


    "It''s nice of you to say that, Urus, but I was," said Oresa. "I mean to make sure it never happens again. How did I do?"


    "Better than I expected. Your stances are far better," said Urus.


    "Yes!" said Oresa, leaping for joy. As she did, her skirts were sent flowing around her as she landed. "Um, I think I''d better get some heavier garments."


    At that moment, Tuor showed up like he usually did. Isamu didn''t like or trust the bastard at all. Sahshir was a cold-hearted bastard, sure. But Isamu couldn''t see him cutting someone''s throat in the dark. Tuor, though, was a different story. Isamu figured the man would cut a dozen children''s throats if he thought it would help him. "That would be wise, Princess Oresa. This land is far colder."


    Isamu had seen Tuor pretending to be friends with Sahshir. He''s probably trying to manipulate him to his own ends. "Tuor, what are you doing here?"


    "I am here to meet with Sahshir and also with you," said Tuor. "We have important matters to discuss."


    Great, more fetch quests.

 Chapter 323 - Twelve: Meetings

    One meeting ended, and another began.


    Sahshir despised these small details. But he knew well they were necessary for the negotiations. So he spoke, argued, planned, and gradually, an agreement was hammered out. Nagos seemed to dislike the negotiations even more than him. Often, during the discussions, his eyes would drift out to an open window. There, the sea blazed beneath the midday light.


    Thus, that task was left to Sahshir and King Belosh. Belosh proved adept at the financial aspect of things. He had drawn up numerous reports on the value of different islands. Sahshir, meanwhile, seemed to be the only one who cared about the honor of their nations.


    Several times, things had gotten heated. Nagos was able to mediate several heated disputes, fortunately.


    Ironically, it was Yugos Suvvest who presented the most serious problem. The man was bitter and angry. And unlike Sen Kaba, he was unwilling to compromise and kept making demands that had to be reigned in. Nagos'' attempts to placate him were largely a failure. They could only make any progress when Nagos offered to replace his arm.


    Apparently, there were many worshippers of Fortenex in the Islands of Power. Fortenex had the power to create limbs of metal. Even if a man was wounded in spirit so his arm could not be restored, Fortenex could make one of steel. This placated Yugos enough to let everyone else finish the actual business.


    Coincidentally, it also gave an incentive to keep the local populations alive. Which Sen was not happy about.


    "Well, that was all necessarily dull," said Belosh, sipping wine. That was in direct violation of the teachings of Baltoth. Sahshir felt his opinion lower. "Now, perhaps we should move on to the more interesting part of this particular story."


    "What story?" asked Yugos flatly, leaning on the table with his one good arm.


    "Sen, I believe you wished to discuss it," said Belosh.


    Sen had his hands clasped before him. "I am translating the Necromancia."


    "What?" said Carath.


    Yugos scoffed in contempt. "Impossible, this is the first time anyone has succeeded in reading the entire book through. Not without going mad. Let alone translating.


    "I made a fortune having my priests tend to the men your Father drove mad."


    "Yeah, I looked at the copy of the stuff once. I had a headache for weeks afterward," said Nagos nervously. "It starts out fairly normal, but the pages get weird as you go further in it. Then it gets really unsettling, and well...


    "Actually, I stopped reading at that point."


    Everyone stared at Nagos.


    "I was given to understand that the Necromancia had only one copy. And that was indestructible," said Belosh.


    "Oh, I was on the ship that got it for House Kaba," said Nagos. "That was a bit of an adventure. Ansif lost two men to that book, and we were attacked by monsters from the depths the whole way. Eventually, we just docked on Antion and walked the rest of the way."


    "I can confirm this," said Sen.


    "...In any case," said Carath. "Not reading the whole thing was a wise decision. The book and all its copies are imbued with the power of the Fish King. They are said to drive mortals mad."


    "Which is why I decided to translate it," said Sen. "If he wants that information hidden, I want to know it. Besides, the Fish King is the God of the Unknown. He crawls beyond the range of conscious space. So it stands to reason that to expand our understanding is to harm him.


    "I dedicated many of my finances to knowing the unknowable. I have already translated large parts of it."


    "And how did you do that?" asked Carath, who''d been silent until now.


    "It was a simple matter of delegation," said Sen. "I trained many people in the dialect of the merfolk. It was part of the schools I set up. From there, I had each of them examine a single page of the document. When a particular page proved too much for them, I divided it and had two people work on it.


    "Once they had translated it, I had them write a page summary. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "By dividing the horror into manageable chunks, I hope to gain access to the full work. Of course, as our work advances, we''ve had to divide the pages into paragraphs. Still, by allowing my researchers plenty of rest, I can get maximum use from them.


    "We''ve only had forty or fifty suicides in a staff of five hundred."


    "An immense success," said Carath with a tone that said otherwise.


    "My Father''s efforts saw six hundred men dead. The rest were traumatized. All without any meaningful information" said Sen. "My record is a vast improvement.


    "The men knew the risks and were paid extras for taking them.


    "At any rate, with the summary, I devised an element of the Fish King''s plan. Part of it was to convert the savage populations in the Islands of Power gradually. Their bloodlines are particularly susceptible to the taint.


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    "Thus, I adopted a policy of organized destruction.


    "By working them to death in plantations, I increased my personal fortune to combat this threat. At the same time, I could decrease possible combatants in the Fish King''s armies. Take away his minions, and you will have weakened the power he gains from worship."


    "A common misconception," said Yugos. "I''m not surprised you made it, Kaba.


    "Gods do not gain power from worship. Worship merely allows them to manifest their power at the behest of their worshipper."


    "I''m certain the gods want us to think that," said Sen, and he eyed Yugos with a murderous gaze. It was returned in kind.


    Sahshir had thought his people would be more violent. But these ''civilized'' men seemed to hate one another far more for their inability to kill directly. He supposed there was a lesson in there somewhere.


    "Both are theories," said Carath quickly. "No need to dwell on which is true; let''s deal with the business at hand."


    Sen and Yugos looked at Carath with a somewhat less murderous gaze and finally relented. Sen shrugged. "For my part, it is irrelevant. Slowing the Fish King''s power is also a valuable accomplishment. However, we can discuss something else.


    "My actions have gotten the Fish King''s attention, and he has stepped up his plans."


    "How?" asked Sahshir.


    "The runes I established deter the Fish King''s bloodlines," said Sen. "However, he''s trying to get back in.


    "Slaves have already bred with better races, even here in Suvera.


    "And I believe some form of the cult may have come about. Several areas were found where ritual sacrifices were set up. Humans killed, their bodies drained of blood."


    "I have heard of these," said Yugos. "However, I took them to be the work of Zigildrazians." He eyed Alkela in contempt at this moment. Alkela, meanwhile, merely gazed back without making a sign.


    Belosh shifted but said nothing. What was he thinking here?


    "You perceived wrong," replied Sen. "Unlike some, I have been monitoring the depths of this world. Powers are shifting and changing, and disaster will follow if action is not taken."


    "How is any of this my problem?" asked Sahshir flatly.


    Sahshir did not particularly like any of these people. Carath seemed about as good as any of them got. However, none of them are considered good people. They were all obsessed with profits and holdings, not those who ran them. And if he did not have to get involved, he''d much prefer not to.


    "If the Fish King awakes, he will destroy the world. Well, unless he is stopped," said Sen. "Anything that weakens him will help."


    "Unless your actions hasten the rate at which he does awaken," noted Sahshir.


    "And even putting that aside, Sen, how are you sure this is making a difference?" asked Nagos.


    "I do not," admitted Sen. "I am striking at the Fish King in whatever way I can as I try to learn more of his power. And the cults that he has in Sorn have become a serious problem.


    "Still, King Sahshir, I believe you could immensely help me here."


    "What do you want me to do?" asked Sahshir.


    "The Sword of Order is a powerful artifact. Tuor has given me the details," said Sen. "It possesses a unique ability. The power to restore the natural order of any element in the world. Winds summoned by spirits will quiet. Curses that have been in effect for years will be soothed."


    "I''d like to hear the details behind that," said Yugos.


    Was he not a priest? He didn''t dress like one, but he clearly held some high position in the temple. Yet the man seemed to know virtually nothing of the divine if he didn''t even know what the Sword of Order did. The blade had played an important role in the war against Sorn, perhaps even spelled their defeat. And the information was on hand, surely.


    Belosh looked at him. "Sahshir, perhaps you could explain things to our friends."


    Sahshir drew the blade slowly and set it across the table. "There are two aspects to this universe, in the end¡ªthe spiritual and the physical. The physical world is easy to see; it is all around us. In the table below us, on the wall. It has certain immutable rules that govern it. Even without the spiritual, those rules function.


    "Then there is the spiritual, gods, demons, angels. They exist in a realm beyond the spiritual that is separate. The spiritual realm uses the physical realm as how battle is conducted. And sometimes, the spiritual realm interferes with the rules of the physical.


    "The Sword of Order can dissipate the magics of other divine entities. It restores the natural order of the world."


    "It will prove to be a counter to the Fish King," said Sen. "As an entity of the unknown, he is no doubt vulnerable to Order."


    "What are you basing that off of?" asked Yugos.


    "If the Order were to gain power over the world, miracles would disappear," said Carath quickly. "The natural order would be restored, rendering this world a mathematical algorithm."


    "Algorithm?" asked Nagos, blinking. Yugos looked at him with contempt.


    "A term in the language of mathematics," said Serna, who had been silent fo some time. "It is a set of actions determined by preset conditions. One that cannot be altered to fit unexpected events.


    "In this metaphor, the spiritual world is an unexpected living event, I would guess."


    Sahshir nodded. "This is true. However, my question remains unanswered. What do you want me to do?"


    "I would ask for your help destroying these cults," said Sen. "In exchange, I can help you with your mission. When you return from your quest into Harlenor, I can provide you an escape and cover."


    It dawned on Sahshir that this place was the precise opposite of Chaminus. Aside from himself and a few others, everyone here hated everyone else. They would gladly put a dagger in all the others. Even the court after Father had left had been alright. Asim had wanted Sahshir dead because he thought he was a failure. How was it possible for any kind of trust to be made in these conditions? Then Sahshir remembered Garrick''s ideology.


    Enlightened self-interest.


    As if the pursuit of the self was the only worthwhile pursuit. Sahshir decided he was done with the charade. Kaba might help, and Sahshir would rather not have the man at his back as an enemy. "Very well then, Kaba. I will assist you in this. But I warn you, this will end in disaster for everyone involved.


    "Throwing down the gauntlet with the gods is not something to be done lightly."


    "The Fish King killed my mother and turned my father into even more of a monster," replied Kaba. "He threw down the gauntlet. And he will regret giving me the chance to pick it up."


    "As long as you accept the risk and responsibility, you can do what you like," said Sahshir. "I will cooperate for the sake of my mission."


    Carath gave Sahshir what might have been an apologetic gaze, and then the door opened. Sahshir looked back and saw a boy with long, messy black hair. "Brother!"


    "What is the meaning of this?" snapped Yugos.


    Sen raised a hand, however. "What is it, Makus?"


    "There''s been another killing," said Makus. "We need help now."


    "Lockdown the site at once," said Sen to the guards. "No one will enter it. We''ll be there as soon as we may." Then he looked to Sahshir. "It seems you''ll have your chance to see firsthand what we face."


    "So it does," said Sahshir. "Alkela, I''ll need you for this."


    "Excuse me," said Serna. "I''m learned in the dialect of the Fish King. I might be of some help here."


    "Then you''re welcome to come," said Sen. "Just don''t get in the way."


    "Wonderful, another interruption," muttered Yugos.


    Then he walked out, and Nagos walked with him and the others. Nagos had his hands in his pockets. He looked to Sahshir and spoke. "You know, I''m getting a bit sick of Sorn."


    "Not here, Nagos," whispered Serna.


    Sahshir shared the opinion but said nothing.

 Chapter 324 - Thirteen: Rising Mist

    Alkela looked at the building, surrounded by crowds. She at once knew this was Zigildrazia''s work. The blood painted on the wall was a specific style used by her priests. It was mainly utilized against heretics¡ªusually, people who betrayed her cults.


    Alkela told Sahshir as much with her hands, and he nodded but said nothing for the moment. That was the thing about Sahshir; his mind was always turning over more than he said.


    Sahshir and Sen observed the crowds as soldiers formed a line before the doors. They were Knights of the Coin, judging from the coin symbol on their white tabards. They wore heavy chainmail. Spears were in their hands, and they were forcing them back with shields, forcing them to make way.


    "There are a lot of people," noted Sahshir.


    "Get these people out of here, we need space," said Sen.


    "They''re panicking," noted Sahshir.


    "The Fish King is rising!" said a man in obvious hysteria. "The Fish King is rising!"


    Idiots.


    The Fish King didn''t do this kind of blood rite. However, there were one or two slight alterations to the symbols on the windows. Alkela considered what they meant. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Calm yourself, all of you!" said Sahshir in sudden fury. "You''ll face this matter with forbearance and dignity! This is neither the time nor the place. Disperse, or suffer the consequences."


    Several hundred people stopped at his tone and looked at one another. Faced with Sahshir, they found numerous better things to do. So they dispersed. The Sword of Order stopped glowing. It was valuable, wasn''t it?


    The door was opened for them by a guard, and they entered the room beyond. Serna went through first, followed by Sen and Sahshir. Alkela waited until everyone else was through, then glanced outside and walked in.


    Within, Serna was kneeling by several summoning circles, all intersecting. They were seven in number, with numerous decorations. Each circle represented a Demonic Archon, which Alkela found odd. Nobody had made symbols calling on all seven Demonic Archons since Baltoth became a god. She caught Sahshir by the shoulder and motioned as much to him.


    Sahshir nodded, and then they looked and saw a shape at the center of the central circle. It was blackened and strange. Then Alkela realized it was a corpse.


    Serna seemed to realize the same thing and shrieked before backing away. Clutching her mouth, she fled from the scene as Sen watched her run. Glancing at Nagos, he scoffed.


    Alkela kneeled by the circle and examined the corpse. Well, that wasn''t Zigildrazian at all. Her Radiance didn''t like corpses, at least not disfigured ones.


    "I take it she has little combat experience," said Sen.


    "Serna wasn''t involved in the fighting in the War of Power," said Nagos. "I''ll go talk to her." He turned and made his way out after her.


    Silence fell over everyone as they waited. Alkela quickly conveyed what she''d noticed to Sahshir, who nodded. He was far sharper than most people. Then he turned to Sen.


    "Sen," said Sahshir. "how did you learn to read these texts? And shouldn''t there already be an expert here who reads these things?"


    "The man who usually investigates these sites has a breakdown. He is on leave until he recovers," said Sen. "The recent killings have gotten to him. I expect I''ll have to replace him eventually.


    "Though I''m interested in where you got someone capable of reading the language, Nagos."


    "Serna''s family has a history of education," said Nagos, coming back. "She''s fine."


    Serna came back at that moment, wiping her mouth and looking sick. "Not all the documents are written in the language that drives you insane. I learned when I was young. My great grandfather once wrote down the language''s details in a book."


    Sahshir nodded and knelt by the circles while Alkela began to examine the runes. Definitely not Zigildrazian; she hadn''t read anything like these. There were two sets of runes, actually. Some were similar to Zigildrazian but had the letters in the wrong place. Still, she could almost make some of them out.


    The other letters Alkela was wholly unfamiliar with. Were they dating back to before the Diabolus rebellion? Or the days of Amysta?


    Still, given the corpse, it could have been the work of Amysta. She used the same runes as Zigildrazia once and was all for corpses.


    "This is..." mused Sahshir.


    At the center of every circle was the image of an immense, many-tentacled monstrosity. Looking at it too closely was difficult, however. The tentacles were not coming from anywhere. You realized it was not whenever you got to something that seemed like a head or body. Their eyes ached, and soon Alkela had a headache.


    "A symbol, written in blood," said Serna.


    "Yes. This symbol often appears within these ceremonies," said Sen. "My expert, Aeon, hasn''t been able to work it out."


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    "Nagos and I have traveled through many native tribes," said Serna. "some of them worshipped the Fish King. That is the symbol of Ryas, once the lizardfolk''s ancient capital. It was a legendary place where all the sea races dwelled in ignorant harmony."


    "Ignorant harmony?" asked Sahshir.


    "The races of the Fish King have a firm belief that there are some things that were not meant to be known," said Serna. "Then, chaos entered the universe. Creatures began to seek to understand things that were not their concern. In Ryas, however, all creatures knew only as much as they were meant to and no more."


    "Ryas? Yes, I remember reading about that city. And I may know where it is," said Sen.


    "How?" asked Sahshir.


    "I knew it was south of the Islands of Power," said Sen. "I hired fishermen to help me.


    They carried crystal balls and lowered them into the sea by a rope. Once there, I had sorcerers from Magicora observe the entire surrounding area. It took a few years and a great deal of money. However, I was able to find several major structures deep underwater.


    "Of course, I have refrained from sending anyone down there.


    "I do not mean to disturb whatever is down there until I am ready."


    "I remember that!" said Nagos suddenly. "Serna and I were one of those fishermen! That''s when I got pulled down and...


    "Never mind."


    "What were you going to say?" asked Sen.


    "Oh, nothing," said Nagos. "I fell into the water and nearly drowned. I had a close call with some things that live beneath the waves.


    "We caught a lot of fish that day."


    "I wasn''t aware you ever worked for me," said Sen, sounding annoyed.


    "You probably should have been," said Nagos. "You''ve got to know the people working for you; otherwise, they might not act like you think they will. The War of Power might have been less unpleasant if we had known each other.


    "You might have even won."


    Sahshir, meanwhile, had been examining the circle further. "This blood is recent.


    "Was there any sign of a break-in?"


    "The windows and doors are unbroken, and the sacrifice lived alone," said Sen with a shrug. "Or so my subordinate told me. It seems likely they were allowed in of their own accord. Or, perhaps, passed through without breaking and entering."


    Alkela made hand signs. Nagos looked at her. "Sorry, um, I don''t speak hand signs. Sahshir, what is she saying?"


    "She says that these are symbols often used by Zigildrazia in her blood rites," said Sahshir. "However, these symbols are not meant to be used for adults. They were meant for children."


    "Children?" asked Sen.


    "Yes, Zigildrazia accepts the sacrifice of unwanted children. They are to be reincarnated as demons," said Sahshir, mirroring Alkela''s version.


    "Then why set it up for adults?" asked Sen.


    No one had a chance to answer.


    There was an immense wind. It howled through the streets, and they could hear it through the streets. With it came a great mist that covered the entire streets.


    "Get your heads down; dark magic is at work," said Sahshir.


    Suddenly, the windows burst open, and mists poured into the room. Alkela put a hand to her mace, but Sahshir drew the Sword of Order. It flared to life brightly, and the mist was driven back. A presence could be sensed, and they rushed out into the street. As they did, Alkela saw an immense shadow leaning over them. Innumerable limbs seemed to come from it, and it was very near and infinitely far away.


    And there was breathing.


    The smell of death surrounded them, and cries of dismay could be heard from the houses. Shadows moved in the streets. Something burst out of nearby doors and raced into the mist. Alkela moved to pursue, but Sahshir caught her by the shoulder.


    "Stay close!" said Sahshir. "We must not get separated!"


    Then they heard something, a guttural shrieking. As one, they bolted toward it, following the light of the Sword of Order. As they did, they saw more monsters moving in the mist. Soon, there was the sound of a scuffle, with snarling and a scream.


    Then the mist cleared, just in time for Alkela to nearly fall off the edge of a pier. The clouds fled back into the sea. But the air above them was cold. Whatever the shadow had been, it was not here now.


    Sahshir halted and looked back.


    "Sahshir!" said Princess Oresa, rushing toward them.


    "Oresa, what did you see?" asked Sahshir. "Did you find the enemy?"


    "We went out to the pier for a meeting with Tuor. Well, actually, Isamu was the only one talking with Tuor; we just tagged along. Then we saw figures in the mist," said Oresa. "But they fled from us. There wasn''t any fighting or anything."


    "I have one!" called Urus.


    Alkela looked up and saw that Urus had separated his staff into four points. Lightning was surging out of it, trapping a comatose creature in place. It seemed like a man, yet it was scaly and had the head of a lizard and claws. Yet it was wearing what seemed to be the remnants of a skirt and shirt.


    "Urus, how did you find them?" asked Sahshir.


    "Cadas and I caught one coming out of one of the houses while we were here," said Urus.


    "This thing is wearing the clothing of a human," noted Sahshir.


    "Why would one of the lizardfolk wear human clothes?" asked Serna, catching up. "And how did they get in here?"


    "Probably masquerading as humans," said Sen, who had been silent. "Serna, can you find out who these people were? Were they immigrants?"


    "Why does that matter?" asked Serna.


    "Depending on how long they have been here, a great many things change," said Sen. "We must know. There are records of them changing skins. Though how could they have infiltrated us so well?" He glanced at several of his guards. "You mean, search the house it came from."


    "What of the creature?" asked Urus.


    "Take it to my prison," said Sen. "We''ll see about learning what we can from it when we have the chance."


    "Your prison?" asked Sahshir.


    "Sorn runs prisons for profit," said Sen. "And I own most of them."


    "Why are you sending them to prison?" asked Oresa.


    "What do you mean?" asked Sen.


    "What have these creatures done other than trying to flee the city?" asked Oresa.


    "I don''t have time for this," said Sen, then walked off.


    "Sen has been investigating a series of murders. He believes these creatures are responsible," clarified Sahshir.


    "What is he basing that assumption off of?" asked Urus.


    Alkela considered the question. Yes, there had been writings of the Fish King. But thanks to Sen, many more people knew how to write those runes.


    "...Very little," said Sahshir, apparently having had the same thought process. "Keep a watch on the sea. Where is Nagos? We have to try reign in Sen. I don''t fully understand this situation, but neither does he. And if we act rashly, we may make this situation far worse."

 Chapter 325 - Fourteen: Interrogation

    Sahshir followed Sen alongside Alkela. Isamu''s group was left behind to watch the pier. The lizardfolk was brought through the streets. As they walked, Sahshir noticed little damage in the city streets. The creatures that had fled into the sea had not hurt anyone, though he recalled the ritual from before.


    Still, it was possible that it was not an action directly ordered by the Fish King. Even Calisha had those who worshipped Baltoth but acted contrary to his will. Soon enough, Nagos came up behind them, walking his hands in his pocket. Somehow, he''d gotten ahold of a reed, and it was between his teeth.


    He was looking down at his feet, seeming troubled.


    Sahshir shifted his grip upon his sword. "Nagos, where were you?"


    "I was talking with some of the servants in the great dome," said Nagos, motioning with his head. Sahshir looked to where the dome stood, towering over the whole world. "Turns out the priests have a lot of parties. Half the city makes money providing food and decorations for it."


    "Why do you care?" asked Sen flatly, who seemed in a fouler mood than usual.


    "I like to know about places I visit," said Nagos with a shrug.


    "In any case," said Sen. "I''ll need your help interrogating the prisoner. You do speak their language, after all."


    "Why not get Serna for it?" asked Sahshir.


    "Serna doesn''t speak merfolk; she just reads it," said Nagos with a shrug. "The pronunciations are a bit weird, and it can break people to learn them all.


    "So, here I am."


    Soon enough, they came to the prison. It was a large, square building near the city''s edges. All the windows were small and barred; most were more than one story up. Lined up along the base of the door was a set of cages. In each one was a man, forced to kneel with hands put out between the bars imploringly.


    Sahshir looked at Sen. "Who are these men?"


    "Beggers," said Sen. "They couldn''t afford to pay for their chains and food. So they remain here and beg."


    "You expect men to pay for room and board in prison?" asked Sahshir, feeling a sense of horror.


    "I run a business," said Sen. "Not a charity. These men committed crimes or were stupid enough to get on the wrong side of powerful people. Why should I not make a profit off housing them?"


    Nagos shifted and quickly drew out several silver coins. He pressed one of them into each beggar''s hand, waiting to do each. Sen looked at him in irritation. "Will you hurry up?"


    Nagos said nothing instead of going down the entire line. As they did, Sen glanced at Sahshir. "What do they do in Calisha?"


    "Calisha does not have prisons," said Sahshir. "It has executions and labors."


    "Labors?" asked Sen.


    "Oh, I remember this," said Nagos, coming back. "If Baltoth''s laws do not demand you be executed, you can redeem yourself. I am usually performing some service. It depends on the class; some have to work it off. Others go on quests, though I heard the domain of Neseriah drafts men into military service.


    "And if you refuse, you get crucified."


    "Crucifixion is barbarism," scoffed Sen.


    "As opposed to a slow, wasting death in the sugar plantations?" asked Sahshir, hating the man all the more.


    "At least the sugar plantations produce something of value," said Sen.


    Then he turned to walk into the prison.


    "Nagos, why do you even speak this language?" asked Sahshir as they entered.


    "I picked it up from some of the natives who did deals with them," said Nagos. "Sometimes the lizardfolk would come up out of the sea, and there''d be celebrations. I picked up a thing or two on my journeys."


    Within the prison was a dark place of cramped cells with many rough-looking men in cages. Sahshir saw several even rougher-looking men dragging the corpse of a prisoner out and tossing them in a pile. "How did this man die?"


    "A minor sickness," said Sen. "or perhaps a fight among inmates."


    "Pleasant," said Nagos. "So, where is the prisoner?"


    "In the interrogation room, obviously," said Sen. "Most prisons have one. Follow me."


    The interrogation room had all kinds of cruel-looking knives and blades on the walls. There was a rack, thumbscrews, and all other kinds of horrors. Sahshir had been sure to burn all such devices on his ascension. He''d had to sort through much inventory to do it. They hadn''t even been used on the worst criminals.


    The lizardfolk was leaning over a table with several cloaked men standing by. Masks hid their faces, and they had a hand on their knives.


    "Is this her?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes," said Sen. "I have torturers on hand if-"


    "I don''t need it," said Nagos. "I''ll talk with her alone. All of you need to leave right now."


    "Why should-" began Sen.


    Then Nagos spoke, his voice uttering guttural words. Sahshir clutched the sword of order as his usual agony became worse. It left his head spinning, and he stepped back at a pace. Sen flinched only slightly. The guards, meanwhile, collapsed.


    "That language..." said Sen, straightening his jacket.


    "It hurts the ears, doesn''t it?" asked Nagos.


    "Yes," said Sen. "Get out. All of you."


    Sen and Sahshir left the room, and Sahshir leaned against the wall, listening for any sign of violence. As he did, Sen looked at Sahshir. "Those who learn it tend to become subject to the will of the Fish King over time. You should be careful about your friend, Nagos. He could act against you when you least expect it."


    "I trust him far more than I do you," said Sahshir flatly.


    Sen waited to answer to that. "...A fair point."


    They waited.


    As they did, Sen became increasingly uncomfortable. Sahshir could tell by the way he didn''t move. The man had a body language where he rarely openly reacted to anything. However, the exact way he didn''t react could be seen.


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    Sahshir wondered if Sen had expected their meeting to go otherwise. Perhaps he desired respect as a worthy opponent? Or perhaps he''d noticed that Nagos treated him differently from other people. In either event, Sahshir did not respect the man. He would give him only as much respect as necessary for honorable purposes. He was competent but had no real honor and was, in addition, a truly terrible person. Only too well did Sahshir remember the butchery on McShore. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    What surprised Sahshir was that this bothered Sen at all. Why should he care what Sahshir or Nagos thought of him? The answer didn''t interest Sahshir, though. He wanted to finish this business and never think about the monster beside him again.


    Nagos came back. "Alright, I just spoke with her."


    "It''s a she?" asked Sen in surprise.


    "She is a girl, about fourteen," said Nagos. "In human years anyway, lizardfolk have a different time scale.


    "It turns out that she is part of a group of lizardfolk who were instructed to take on human skin. They entered and lived among Sorn for some years to act as eyes and ears for the Fish King."


    "Then she''s a spy," surmised Sen.


    "No more than any person who lives abroad and writes letters to their family," said Nagos.


    "Abruptly, she was called to return to the sea with her family under the Fish King''s mist yesterday. However, she was jumped and captured and is now afraid for her life.


    "She''s scared and wants to go home."


    "So she should be," said Sen, looking to his subordinates. "Get my experts in here with the implements. Get whatever you can from it, and then eliminate it."


    "What law has this creature broken?" asked Sahshir.


    "What?" said Sen, looking at him with sudden anger.


    "On what grounds are you holding it?" asked Sahshir. "As far as I can tell, it merely appeared as a human and immigrated onto land. No one has been harmed in the recent exodus."


    "What of the rituals?" asked Sen.


    Alkela spoke up, motioning with her hands. Sen, of course, didn''t understand the words. "What is the mute saying?"


    "Alkela speculates that it could have been anyone who knows the runes of the Fish King," said Sahshir. "Thanks to you, that number has grown exponentially. We don''t have any guarantee that it was lizardfolk who did it, and if it was, they might be unconnected."


    "I''ll go ask her about it," said Nagos quickly before returning.


    Now, Sen seemed well and truly furious.


    Sahshir wondered if Sen felt he was being denied some respect or recognition that he had earned. Or there was some other reason for this. Sen wasn''t sure what it was because he began to pace. Finally, he looked up. "Why are you so keen to take a monster''s word at face value?"


    "I felt that your refusal to hold a grudge spoke well of you. And found your translation of the Fish King''s book impressive," replied Sahshir. It was all true, of course, and might soothe relations. But Sahshir neither liked nor respected the man nonetheless.


    This seemed to placate Sen somewhat, but he kept pacing, looking down at the ground. It was true what was written:


    ''The virtuous are sure of their course, but the wicked are always plagued by doubt.''


    Soon enough, Nagos came back. "Okay, I''ve finished.


    "It turns out that the worship of Zigildrazia has begun to spread among some of the lizardfolk on land. You see, among lizardfolk, eating their own eggs is common practice. Most of those lain are infertile anyway.


    "As such, the infanticide rituals are considered to be an easy in."


    "That was no infant they murdered," noted Sen.


    "Well, there are rituals by which some mortals transformed into lizardfolk," said Nagos. "Brought into the Fish King''s domain, so to speak.


    "The transformation is consensual and requires willing submission.


    "However, it turns out that some lizardfolk target those who could become them. They think of them as unhatched eggs and, therefore, infants. Her mother warned her against this."


    "But why these actions?" snapped Sen. "What are they planning?"


    "I have no idea what they''re planning; she''s not a spy," said Nagos. "And if she was, I doubt she''d be told that.


    "As for why...


    "The Fish King''s priests noticed the number of potential converts dropping. And that it was mostly happening because of Sorn. So they arranged for some lizardfolk families to take on mortal form and see what was going on in Sorn.


    "If I had a guess, they were called back to report on their findings."


    Sen stood up and considered things carefully. "...Meaning that she knows how to get to the domain of the Fish King. Ask her how she enters and leaves."


    "I already did," said Nagos. "When a lizardfolk is summoned back into the ocean, they have the power to swim back. Ordinarily, the way is shut even to them. The Fish King''s domain exists in a different plane of existence. One that just happens to overlap with the ocean."


    "Could she take others with her?" asked Sen.


    "Perhaps," said Nagos.


    "I see," said Sen. "If our spies penetrate the Fish King domain, we could scout our enemy."


    "That is assuming they are our enemy at the moment," noted Sahshir. "What is more relevant is why they would go out of their way to call their servants back to us in such a dramatic fashion."


    "What do you mean?" asked Sen.


    "Consider this," said Sahshir. "They could have simply called them all back at once during the dead of night and had them slip into the ocean. Their disappearance would have been noted, but it would have only started a few rumors.


    "Why waste the power to summon a mist to hide their flight? Unless they wanted us to notice something would happen." Sahshir sighed and drew his sword. "I''m going to speak with the spirit that summoned the mist. The Sword of Order should allow me to find them if I focus."


    "How?" asked Sen.


    "Spirits by nature disrupt the natural order," explained Sahshir. "The Sword of Order allows me to sense such disruptions, especially when they have acted.


    "For now, that girl should not be harmed."


    "Which girl?" asked Sen in confusion.


    "The one you have in prison," said Sahshir. "Whatever use she may be to us, it may require her intact and unharmed. Nagos, Alkela, come with me."


    Focusing on the Sword of Order, Sahshir reached out and sensed any sign of near powers. He sensed one of immense power that was Isamu and his group. Sahshir decided he''d best speak with him first.


    And so he followed.


    Soon enough, they found Isamu pacing restlessly while Oresa and Urus played cards.


    "How do you always win like this?" asked Oresa. "You always know what someone is going to draw."


    "There are only so many cards of a given type," explained Urus. "I count how many of a given type are drawn and such. That lets me get a sense of what is likely to appear next." Then they noticed Sahshir.


    Isamu came up to him. "Alright, what is going on here?"


    "We have a new task, Isamu," said Sahshir. "You and your companions will accompany us to act as support."


    "What task?" asked Isamu. "What are you talking about?"


    "We''re trying to track down the spirit that summoned the mist," said Nagos. "Anything, Sahshir?"


    Sahshir focused on the sword again. Feeling the area around him, he gazed at the spirit realm. As he did, he perceived the souls of those around him. Sahshir had trained himself to use this ability at will since unlocking it. Yet it was unpleasant to see true faces, and he kept his gaze looking for spirits.


    Soon enough, Sahshir found a trail. It was leading away from the pier toward the south. He followed it with his mind, taking a wider view. As he did, he noticed Sen''s spirit. The last time he''d looked at it, it had been decayed and horrific. It was scarred and wounded, but the wounds were healing a bit. Perhaps there was a hope of recovery, though it was doubtful it would ever be healthy again.


    Focusing on the trail, Sahshir saw where it led. "This way. I can sense the trail; it''s leading out... Out over the walls and into the lands to the south."


    "What?" said Isamu. "But, spirits can''t move."


    "Actually, Isamu, many spirits can move," said Urus. "Some are bound to a particular place, but many move about all the time. Much as not all men of legal age own property."


    "Alkela, can you sense any of the taint of Zigildrazia here?" asked Sahshir, dropping out of the vision.


    Alkela answered.


    "What''s she saying?" asked Isamu.


    "That it is not taint," said Sahshir, annoyed at the response. "Answer my questions and then debate semantics."


    Alkela answered.


    "I see," said Sahshir. "Zigildrazia''s power is not present within the air at all here. Nothing like it was before. That is something I can attest to personally."


    "How would she know?" asked Isamu.


    "Alkela is a distant descendant of Zigildrazia," said Sahshir. "Many generations removed. Combined with her training, she has an affinity for her presence."


    "That sounds handy," said Isamu. "So, um, if we do end up fighting Zigildrazia is that going to be a problem?"


    Alkela answered.


    "What?" asked Isamu. "Alkela is saying that if it would be a problem, she wouldn''t tell you, so the question would be irrelevant."


    "Oh, right," said Isamu.


    "In any case, our quarry has fled," said Sahshir. "We''ll have to journey some ways to find them. Prepare for a journey and find us a guide."


    Sahshir wondered if healing the spirit was the same as the body.

 Chapter 326 - Fifteen: Journey through Sorn

    The land of Sorn was truly desolate once you got past the Ghost River just south of Suvera. The trip over the bridge was eerie, veiled in mist. At any time, as they crossed it, you wondered if someone would devour you. Supposed it went through the mountains to the east, turned north, and Savior''s Run. Though it was known as Elranor''s River while passing through.


    It was a moot point; the true name was Savior''s Run. In his mind, a river named after Baltoth should be less veiled in mist.


    Baltoth was Truth, after all.


    Even so, it was odd. You could see plants wherever you walked. The grass here grew long where there weren''t fields. The fields produced a great number of plants, and yet there was no joy within them. Something about the land was... strange.


    He saw great bushes of roses, carefully tended. Yet those who worked on them spoke only of their value. Most of the farmers went armed with knives and gave them wary glances as they walked. They would occasionally encounter patrols of Sornian Pikemen clad in chain armor. They marched with discipline. These bore the emblems of several different noble houses. They also spoke to Garrick with respect.


    "It''s a precaution," explained Garrick. "To ensure that the policing of the roads is impartial, each house pays a portion of the guard''s."


    "What threats do you face?" asked Sahshir.


    "Bandits, sometimes," said Garrick. "More often, you have rebellions from the Numbered Villages. Also, now and then, undead stream forth from the Road of Ancient Stone. Though that hasn''t happened in a long time."


    "Numbered Villages?" asked Oresa.


    "Where we''re heading," said Sahshir, who had been in such a hurry he hadn''t been able to explain. "A series of villages populated by people who are not citizens or slaves. But they have lived here for generations."


    "Most of them are the descendants of captives. They were taken long ago as slaves and freed themselves," said Garrick, shifting his sword. "The villages were founded by Suvvest to work the vast empty land. It was a result of the Age of Withering when a large part of our population in those areas was wiped out.


    "He carried off many people in raids. He forced them to settle here, under the watch of garrisons. Now, they supply a large portion of the food crops for Sorn. Most of it is sold, of course. The Great Houses have carefully ensured we need not fear starvation."


    "So they''re serfs," said Urus.


    "No," said Garrick. "Serfs are afforded certain rights and according to contract. Their Lords owe them protection and land to work their fields. Those who dwell here have no such rights. They largely provide their own protection; the garrisons keep them in line.


    "Though House Suvvest has recently introduced several Churches to the location. He sees it as an opportunity for a profit and a chance to reward his followers."


    "By healing the people?" asked Oresa.


    "Naturally not," said Garrick. "They had developed healers amongst them, worshipping other gods. The Church extended its influence there to ensure those healers had to make a profit for Sorn."


    "Did it work?" asked Urus.


    "No, most of them left or were killed for practicing healing illegally," said Garrick. "But Suvvest was able to levy an extra tax on them, and they are less self-sufficient. So, I doubt he cared.


    "Humanitarian concerns are generally regarded as an excuse to extend the business."


    "Nice people you work with," said Isamu. "I can see why you like the place."


    "I do not like the place," said Garrick. "I am merely contractually obligated to work here. I am a Knight of the Coin."


    Sahshir decided it was time to change the subject. So he looked down at the roads beneath his feet. They were flat and well-made, far superior to the best roads his people had made. If he ever did return to Kalthak, he''d have to build something like this.


    "These roads are very fine," said Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Garrick. "One of Suvvest the Great''s achievements was building strong, easily traversed roads. They went all throughout the major locations. It has done wonders for our economy and makes suppressing revolts simple.


    "At one time, he could charge everyone in Sorn a toll for using them.


    "House Suvvest has wanted a return to those days for decades."


    "Why''d he give up the right?" asked Urus.


    "He did not, per se, have a choice," said Garrick.


    By now, they had entered a place where many warped trees and occasional bogs could be seen. Mushrooms were sprouting all over the place, some truly immense, as big as trees. To their right, the sea stood serene, drab, and gray. To their left were fields with farms and occasional forts situated.


    And at last, they came to a village. It was a maze of wooden villages on raised platforms. Wherever you looked, you could see nets being stretched on wood. The people were dressed in clothes that looked to have been repaired many times. As they descended, Isamu missed the obvious.


    "Is that the place, Garrick?" asked Isamu.


    "Yes," said Garrick. "This is Village Six."


    "Some name," said Isamu. "So, where are villages five through one?"


    "South, of course," said Garrick.


    "Hasn''t anyone ever tried to rename it?" asked Oresa.


    "That would be a breach of contract," said Garrick. "Sorn wants all its employees to fully understand just how much of their own world belongs to them. A word of warning: only expect aid from the priests with payment.


    "You won''t get it."


    "Why?" asked Oresa. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The Priests of Coinfurth are forbidden from aiding anyone without pay," said Garrick. "They are strict followers of Suvvestianism."


    "Which is?" asked Isamu.


    "An ideology I once followed," said Garrick. "It teaches that the greatest good comes when every man tends to his own self-interest. Under Suvvestianism, charity of any kind is the worst thing you can do."


    "Oh, I see," said Isamu. "It''s an excuse for rich people to murder and exploit poor people with a clear conscience."


    "More or less," admitted Garrick. "Suvvest outlawed charity of any kind and closed down all the orphanages. The only charities allowed were workhouses. And they were encouraged to be as brutal and exploitative as possible. To motivate them to become less poor, of course.


    "Fortunately, Grandmaster Hafkin was able to change Suvvest the Great''s mind. Mine too."


    "How?" asked Isamu.


    "Well, it came out that Suvvest was beginning to own just about everything," said Garrick. "The other Merchant Lords weren''t pleased, but my order remained neutral.


    Eventually, Suvvest started breaking contracts. Many of which were long held sacred. He claimed they interfered with people''s ability to pursue their self-interest. In practice, they just got in the way of his ability to exploit people.


    "Naturally, the Knights of the Coin staged a popular uprising against Suvvest. The other Merchant Families united with us. We burned his house, and he was forced to flee with his family for Harlenor. I was only a young knight then, but I pursued him on the orders of Grandmaster Hafkin.


    "I tracked him all the way to the border, caught him. He was half-starved and dressed in rags alongside his family.


    "I then offered him a choice. He could either be tortured to death over months. Or he could accept a large bag of silver and restart his life in Antion.


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    "He took the silver."


    Isamu roared with laughter. "That''s a dangerous way to make a point. You sure you wouldn''t rather just cut him in half?"


    "Grandmaster Hafkin was very fond of morality tales, actually," said Garrick. "And Suvvest and he had hated one another their entire lives. More importantly, it permanently discredited Suvvestianism in my eyes and ensured my loyalty.


    "At any rate, House Suvvest restored its good name, which I mean its money, and returned to Sorn. They''ve now taken control of the Church for the most part and are trying to restore Suvvestianism." He stopped as they reached the gates.


    "What?" said Oresa. "But didn''t they learn anything?"


    "Of course, they didn''t learn anything," said Urus suddenly. "Suvvust''s ideology was pure selfishness. He may have come up with elaborate reasoning for why it was good for society. But in the end, he didn''t care about society, or he wouldn''t have gone to the trouble of making it up. It was all about satiating his ego.


    "All Suvvestianism really meant was that he could do whatever he wanted to get whatever he liked. When Suvvest took the silver, he made up an elaborate lie. He talked about how the silver was his rightful due to establishing the Empire. And therefore, he was really establishing partial restitution for his money. While anyone who didn''t believe in his code would be wrong to accept it."


    "All that is true," conceded Garrick. "However, he was somewhat wiser in his approach afterward.


    "Still, this is where I will be stopping. King Sahshir, have you found any sign of the spirits?"


    "Wait, a minute, Urus, you know about all this?" asked Isamu. "Why didn''t you tell us earlier?"


    "Because you never ask questions, Isamu," said Urus. "Cadas is almost always silent. And Oresa hasn''t been with us at all. So nobody has been around to ask about the places we visit."


    "Ahem," said Sahshir. "The enemy is near. Very near. I do not see any reason to remain here any-"


    And then a commotion happened in the street. Sahshir saw a slim, healthy white man walking with armed guards. He had curly blonde hair. Suddenly, a woman with small horns, a half-satyr, he guessed, bowed before him. "Please! Please, Master Priest, you have to help my husband! He''s bleeding and needs your help!"


    The Priest smiled but did not move. "Coinfurth is glad to aid those who contract with his priests, of course."


    "We... we don''t have the money," said the woman.


    The priest looked almost relieved. "Then, I must ask you to cease blocking my path."


    "But he''s dying!" said the woman.


    "One can never aid someone without them first giving something in return," said the priest. "To do otherwise is to weaken yourself and weaken them. This is your fault for not making economically sound decisions."


    "He''s fading!" shouted someone else.


    Oresa and Isamu broke with the group at once. Oresa headed for where the voice was going, and Isamu stalked toward the priest.


    "Economically sound?" asked a nearby man. A mob was gathering.


    "The economy naturally rights itself," said the priests.


    Sahshir noted that many of these people looked hungry and greatly doubted that.


    "We don''t have any money because you took away our lands and forced us to pay rent!" snarled a man. "We can hardly make enough to feed ourselves! Let alone save up! You tax us for not being part of the Church of Coinfurth, and then you don''t let us join!"


    "Those who wish for Coinfurth''s protection must be willing to sacrifice for it," said the priest.


    The people moved forward, but the guards lowered spears.


    "Be wary; attacking a Priest of Coinfurth is a sign of disrespect that will not go unpunished," said the priest.


    "To hell with your Church!" snapped the man. "What has it ever done for us!"


    The priest went cold. "...Unfortunate.


    "Break both his legs, then fine his family-"


    Isamu landed behind him and stepped between them, sword raised. "Step away from that man, you bastard! Oresa, heal the injured man. Now."


    "Heresy!" snarled the priest, leaping away. "Kill them! Fine them! Tax their funerals!"


    And then Garrick stepped into view from the shadows. Somehow, even though when Sahshir had last noticed, he''d been in broad daylight. He was very good. "Enough.


    The priest shuddered and turned to where Garrick was. The guards suddenly found they had better things to do. They stood to attention a healthy distance away from the priest. "G-Garrick... E-Estov... I..."


    "You are in violation of your contract," said Garrick simply.


    "No, no, I''m not," said the young man. "They have to pay me for the use of-"


    "The social contract," said Garrick. "Unwritten, but binding. You are a leader. You are obligated to ensure they remain productive. Your actions have nearly caused a riot¡ªthe exact opposite of productivity.


    "It would have been a small price to pay to heal the man and expect service later.


    "Now that price will be far larger." Then he moved past the priest and slammed a fist into Isamu''s gut. The man doubled over, spitting out blood as he did.


    Isamu glanced up. "Just who the hell do you people think you are?


    "The legal authorities," said Garrick. "Explain yourself at once, Isamu."


    "This guy was about to start killing people because they were angry a man was being left to bleed out in the street!" said Isamu. "And you want me to explain myself! If he''d tried to break his legs, there''d have been a riot, and then that idiot would have called for a massacre!"


    "My associate took a rather superficial view of Coinfurth''s teachings," said Garrick. "It is true, and for that, I apologize. However, you have nearly assaulted his guards.


    "King Sahshir, I must ask for an explanation."


    "Isamu is not by nature a careful person," replied Sahshir. He found all this needlessly elaborate. "However, he is not under my authority. If you are to seek him punished, you must speak with King Belosh."


    "You son of a-" snapped Isamu.


    "Is he not under your command now?" asked Garrick.


    "It is true," said Sahshir. "However, to execute him for disobedience would be beyond the scope of my authority. It would risk war with King Belosh. Allow us to complete our mission; from there, we shall speak to the King on your behalf.


    "We are acting on behalf of the Houses of Sorn, after all."


    "And yet you have not illustrated the nature of your mission," said Garrick.


    "We are investigating the recent mists that rose up over Suvera. To cover the lizardmen''s escape," said Sahshir. "Isamu will be of importance in this mission."


    "I see," said Garrick. "Then it would not be within my rights to interfere. Very well, then, the restitution for your crimes shall be thus: One day, I will ask you for a service. When that day comes, you will perform it on behalf of the Knights of the Coin.


    "Agree to this, and I will let the matter pass."


    "Sure, as long as it isn''t anything evil," said Isamu. "I don''t burn villages or enslave people."


    "...I assure you, it will be nothing of the sort," said Garrick. "Let us move past this."


    "My thanks," said Sahshir.


    "Why the hell do I have to do a vision quest because that scumbag wanted to start a massacre?" asked Isamu.


    "Because you threatened a priest with death," said Sahshir. "You may wish you had kept some of your winnings from the tournament earlier. The fine for this may be very high."


    "Perhaps we should continue with our own business," said Garrick.


    "What is your business, anyway?" asked Isamu, forgetting the confrontation. In the background, Isamu could see Oresa being led to several other sick people to heal.


    "I am investigating the nature of the contracts within this area," said Garrick. "The villagers who dwell here are immigrants: escaped slaves, foreigners, things like that. Dwarves tend to live in the mountains to mine the Suveran silver mines, but here is where we move them.


    "The Church of Coinfurth owns all these lands, and those he dwells here merely work them. They must pay for their rent and taxes on various goods¡ªboth the ones they buy and the ones they sell.


    "The Knights of the Coin have ordered me to investigate their numbers. I hope to prepare a full report on whether or not the exploitation of those here is legal."


    "Legal exploitation? Is that not a contradiction?" asked Sahshir.


    "The contracts of men may suffer injustice," said Garrick.


    "The contracts of men is not the law," noted Sahshir. "Only an attempt to recover the moral law that binds us all. What you do to these people is illegal, no matter how many contracts you sign."


    "Perhaps so," said Garrick. "However, until the original contract is found, we will operate on inferior codes. The exploitation of these people is legal to an extent. However, the Knights of the Coin have reason to believe it has gone beyond that extent. I may write an official report for review if the information on these abuses can be found."


    "Where are these Knights of the Coin anyway? I haven''t seen them anywhere?" asked Urus.


    Garrick went silent and glanced at the priest, who took this chance to leave. "...There are not very many of us left now."


    "What do you mean?" asked Isamu.


    "Our orders were established to ensure fairness was upheld in contracts," said Garrick. "However, when Sorn began to adapt Antion''s legal code, we decreased in relevance. Knights of the Coin were expected to fight at the forefront of wars. Much of the order was drawn from aristocrats seeking power and prestige.


    "However, in recent times, Sorn''s wars have been almost entirely against native populations. The traditional stratagem was to make contracts with them. Then, one would break them when it was no longer convenient. The Knights of the Coin spoke out against these actions, however. That alienated us from the Merchant Elite.


    "We were no longer called in to preside over contracts. We were sworn to fairness, precisely what they didn''t want. Even when we ruled against abuses of power, the Merchant Elite ignored us. They smeared our name, blaming us for the corruption they had spread and argued as a means to reduce our power.


    "Many left the order. Those that remained began to die with alarming frequency. I found a large number of thugs decided to rob me this morning. Eventually, it was decided to take up service under House Magnious.


    "Many more of us have been killed in the Third Dinisian War, and many that remain have left the order. Grandmaster Wrentath is old, and I am now his primary agent. For the moment."


    "I''m sorry," said Sahshir.


    "It is of no concern," said Garrick. "All of us have our own dues to pay. Now, if you''ll excuse me, I have a lot of paperwork to review."


    Sahshir then remembered his own mission and sensed where the spirits were. Now he knew where to go. It wasn''t far now at all. Oresa returned then. "Urus, Oresa, Alkela, you will accompany me.


    "Isamu, Cadas."


    "What is it?" asked Isamu.


    "Stay with Garrick and make sure that nothing happens to him," said Sahshir. "We won''t need you for this."


    "Fine, whatever," said Isamu. "I was hoping to get this stupid quest over with anyway."


    Then they were off.

 Chapter 327 - Sixteen: The Plans of Baltoth

    Sahshir''s body began to fail him later that day.


    Of course, he''d felt the pain as usual for a long time, but it had not bothered him as much since the Second War of Power. However, it began to grow to the point where he felt he needed to stop. Not that Sahshir showed this weakness; he merely halted by a tree and sat down as if to meditate.


    "We will rest here for a time," said Sahshr, putting the Sword of Order across his knees. "Urus, head to the north of here and find a cliff face. It looks out over the Sea of Power. The spirits are focused there.


    "I am relying on you to find it."


    "Is something wrong, Sahshir?" asked Oresa.


    "I must meditate," said Sahshir.


    Urus nodded and moved off with his staff. Oresa sat down across from him and looked at him with concern. Sahshir wondered what it was like to find a woman beautiful. He could look at her and know many would find her attractive. Sahshir wondered if that was all there was. Then, he dismissed the subject as irrelevant to his duty.


    His eyes turned to where Tuor had emerged. He wore a pair of nunchucks at his side and a white tunic. His eyes were faintly amused.


    "Tuor, I''m surprised you are here," said Sahshir.


    Tuor shrugged and sat down. "I thought you might need guidance. You''ve now headed in the opposite direction we''d planned."


    "What use is the Heaven''s Eye to Baltoth if we cannot get to him?" asked Sahshir. "If Sorn is hostile, we''ll have far more difficulty."


    "It was merely an observation," noted Tuor. "It is the way of things that small deviations lead to far larger ones if you allow them to."


    "I would have thought you would have objected," noted Sahshir. "You have come all the way out here after us."


    Tuor shrugged. "It is often in deviations that we gain the power to achieve our goals.


    "This is a matter that cannot be put off. Our own mission, however, can. King Belosh will easily be able to handle negotiations in the meantime."


    "Um, Master Tuor, may I ask something?" asked Oresa suddenly.


    "What is it, girl?" asked Tuor, annoyed at the interruption.


    "You, um, you mentioned we''re going to steal the Heaven''s Eye in the name of Baltoth. Won''t um... won''t..." Oresa faltered.


    "Speak freely, Oresa," said Sahshir. "The ruler benefits from hearing alternate perspectives."


    "Won''t that start a war?" asked Oresa. "I mean, Father tells me that we''re at peace with them now. My brother, Ashinin, led the army that fought alongside them in Khasmir to the far west."


    "It is no longer to the far west, Oresa," said Sahshir. "Sorn is a comparatively small way south and east of Khasmir, just below the High Elves realm on the map."


    "Well, yes, but we''re at peace with them now," said Oresa. "Duke Vanion respects Baltoth; some say he is even a worshipper in spirit."


    "Worshipper in spirit?" asked Sahshir, having not heard the concept before.


    "It''s a belief among the Medi," said Tuor. "To be a worshipper in spirit is to be a devout follower of a particular cause or deity. But you also believe yourself to be something else. Personally, I find the idea to be absurd. Ones'' conscious choices are the only relevant ones; those you do not know you are taking are not yours."


    "But what if this starts a war?" asked Oresa.


    "War is inevitable," said Tuor with a shrug. "And I can see far afield through my agents. Even as we speak, powers are gathering to begin a new conflict.


    "Vanion''s actions have only delayed the inevitable. His enemies at court will jump at any chance to destroy his efforts. I suspect he was only buying time to make a deal with Queen Arraxia of Seathorius. With Savior''s Run reopened and a military alliance, he would be powerful indeed. All the more formidable to face our invasion, or Antion''s."


    "Antion''s?" asked Oresa. "But surely he serves Antion."


    "No Harlenorian serves another for long," said Tuor. "It is in their nature to fight amongst one another."


    "But shouldn''t we try to maintain the peace as long as possible?" asked Oresa.


    "Peace should only be prolonged if a prolonged peace is to your benefit," said Tuor. "Once we have the Heaven''s Eye, Baltoth''s plan may come to fruition. Once that happens, Calisha shall reign supreme. And no earthly power may withstand us."


    "Fine words from one who does not believe them," noted Sahshir in amusement.


    "You assume much, Abdul. Why this cynicism?" asked Tuor, smiling.


    "The plan, as you have laid it out, is vague and devoid of true content," said Sahshir with a shrug. "You ask us to accept your assurances on faith. While we have nothing without faith, I would prefer something more tangible now."


    "Do you question the will of Baltoth?" asked Tuor.


    "I question you," replied Sahshir, letting an edge into his tone.


    Tuor nodded. "Fair enough.


    "Very well, the truth is rather more boring, Oresa. No doubt you''ve heard the prophecy of Valranor?"


    "Yes, ages ago, Valranor ruled over the world with an iron fist," said Oresa. "He cast down Ancient Namina when they refused to swear fealty to him. My family dates back to the first dynasty of Namina; we descend from one of the Emperor''s sons. The one who won the civil war.


    "When the island sank into the sea, we were hard-pressed to keep Valranor''s armies back.


    "But Baltoth the proud came forth in Seathorius and sowed discord among the Western Lands. From there, he marched alone into Valranor''s domain and made war upon him. Many great battles ensued, and the Dust Elven civilization was cast down. Their proud spires were humbled, and they were forced from the land.


    "At last, Baltoth was challenged to fight with Valranor sword to sword. But Baltoth was cunning and brought his sons, Suloth and Baelgost. Taking Valranor by surprise, he was overwhelmed. Suloth held him in place with magic chains, Baelgost cut his armor from his body. And Baltoth drove the Blade of Chaos into his heart, claiming the Sword of Order as his own.


    "Then Valranor uttered these words:


    "When East and West are in endless war,


    "When the Sun burns brightest,


    "Then shall you die by the hand of the bloodline of Anoa.


    "You shall come to your end, and none shall save you."


    "You know the tale well," noted Tuor.


    "My sister, Atria, made sure I knew the story by heart, but well..." Oresa faltered. "She was taken prisoner by Tanith Telus, lieutenant of Argath Marn. Now, she is kept as her slave in the Dark Land of Ran Telus. East and West are in endless war, but what about the Sun Burning Brightest?"


    "Metaphor, likely," said Sahshir. He and Tuor shared a glance before Tuor spoke. "In any case, the prophecy is a problem. Baltoth attempted to thwart it, of course. He ambushed and murdered Anoa IX, and that led to an era of Calishan dominance. But the bloodline has survived, and now we know it has returned.


    "Relma Artorious, the Heir of Kings, has claimed Lightning Trail. I had hoped I''d managed to kill her with her parents. Unfortunately, Pandora and Arengeth are only useful if resourceful. Even now is working to establish Harlenor Reunited."


    "Why is that bad?" asked Oresa.


    "Because the Heir of Kings is of Anoa''s bloodline by nature," said Tuor. "The Harlenorians have their own prophecy that says the Heir of Kings shall reunite the land. All the Kingdoms shall be brought to heel to create Harlenor Reunited."


    "But what could unite Harlenor?" asked Oresa. "They fight among eachother as much as us."


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    "Their hatred of us," said Sahshir, who had read extensively on the subject. "Every Harlenorian Knight is expected to participate in the Calishan Wars. That is what they call the innumerable conflicts between us. Every man-at-arms who fights within them thinks of it with pride. Whenever Calisha begins to gain dominance, all of them unite against us.


    "Their hatred for Baltoth and their eternal vendetta is what unites them.


    "So the only way the Heir of Kings could sustain such a union would be by leading a great crusade against us. And in that crusade, it would be an ideal time to fulfill Valranor''s prophecy."


    "Well said," said Tuor. "In any case, Baltoth has no intention of engaging the Heir of Kings in a climactic battle. Especially when we''ve finally managed to find some reasonable Lords we can make a deal with. It would be disastrous and, even if victorious, would devastate both our lands.


    "And knowing how prophecies usually work, there would be some unknown baby. They''d grow up under the guidance of a wise sorcerer. Then they''ll have everything handed to them and go through a predetermined road of trials. From there, the whole damn thing would start all over again. Leading to an eternal conflict between curly-haired farmboys and Baltoth. Eventually, one of the insufferable brats got lucky.


    "Needless to say, it''s not something we intend to let happen."


    "So what are we doing instead?" asked Oresa.


    "The Heaven''s Eye can only be used by one of Elranor''s bloodlines, and it is an immensely powerful object," said Tuor. "As such, it is the ideal weapon by which one of those idiots might stand a chance against Baltoth in combat. Arengeth and Pandora will be well aware of this fact. When we steal it, they will have to go after us.


    "Fortunately, they must bring the Heir of Kings with them. They will follow us to Calisha, and we will murder them there and then. With Arengeth''s death, the primary thing of keeping the old spirit alive will be gone. No one will remain to guide the prophecy, and it will hopefully die. At the very least, it will slow it down."


    "What if the Heir of King''s wins?" asked Oresa.


    "Well then, we''ll at least have resolved the age-old grudge between our nations. And we''ll have done so without devastating the lands of Calisha," said Tuor. "Baltoth has already established a clear succession if he is killed. So, if he dies, plans are already in motion to ensure his resurrection. Some have already been made.


    "Once Baltoth is dead, if it comes to that, we''ll simply demand the Heir of King''s head to keep the peace between our nations, of course. The Heir of the King''s threatens the independence of every robber baron in Harlenor. With the only reason they''d need her gone, they''d be glad to get rid of her even if they would never admit it.


    "Baltoth will return to life. The Heir of Kings will be dead. The prophecy will be fulfilled. And the world won''t be ripped to shreds by a pointless war that benefits precisely no one.


    "So, to answer your question, we are provoking the Heir of Kings into action to avoid a war. Baltoth is acting for the betterment of the world as a whole."


    "But how are you going to get the Heaven''s Eye?" asked Oresa. "No one not of Elranor''s bloodline can touch it."


    Tuor looked to Sahshir. "Tell her."


    Sahshir resented the command but saw no reason not to cooperate. "I am of the bloodline of Elranor, distantly, as is Tuor."


    Oresa stared in shock. "What, but that can''t be! You''re nothing like the chaotic God of Healing!"


    "Be that as it may, I have the blood," said Sahshir. "As such, both of us will be able to take the Eye."


    "Only you, actually," said Tuor. "I am... considered an enemy by the Eye. Elranor was not pleased with my defection."


    At that moment, Urus came back. He walked in with his staff, looked at Tuor, blinked, and then returned to Sahshir. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What is it, Urus?" asked Sahshir.


    Urus smiled. "I''ve found what we''re looking for."


    Sahshir was silent for only a moment.


    "Lead on then, Urus," he said at last.


    Things were looking up.


    And then they were looking down again.


    It was a large outcropping of rock overlooking a vast body of water, now disturbed by a coming storm. Even now, Sahshir could see the dark clouds gathering. As if terrible foreboding events were to come. Even so, glancing at the left and then the right brought him to question Urus'' judgments.


    "Congratulations, Urus," said Sahshir, "you have found the sea."


    "It is not the sea, but below where we stand," said Urus, tapping with his staff. "A hole in the rock there leads into a cave. We looked in there, and you''ll like what we found." Then he moved forward, balanced his staff so it was upright, and let himself down.


    Sahshir peered after Urus and saw him disappear into the rock. Glancing back to Oresa and Tuor, he shrugged and tried his hand. Sure enough, a gap led into the rock with Urus inside. He was holding a sphere of white light from the moon''s spirit.


    Sahshir entered, and then he heard a cry. Turning, he saw Oresa falling and caught her by the hand. Pulling her back up, he set her down. "Are you injured?"


    "Just a few scuffed knees," said Oresa, forming energies around a bloody shin. "I''m fine, thanks."


    Tuor landed behind them in one smooth movement and moved past Oresa into the cave. He examined it, and Sahshir did as well. It appeared to be a large round chamber, and in the far half was a large underground lake. An altar was rising out of the center of it. There appeared to be a candle that had long since gone out.


    "A shrine," mused Tuor. "They used to build these hidden places, always looking out to sea. That was before the Knights of the Coin began their crusades. They hunted down those who worshipped any deity save Coinfurth long ago."


    "Why would they do that?" asked Oresa.


    "Sorn was the subject of numerous battles between Calisha and Antion," said Tuor. "And they came to resent both nations. Suvvest the Great engineered its rise as a sovereign nation. One of his means of doing so was to root out all other gods.


    "I gather he wasn''t fond of Coinfurth either. But he thought his service easier to achieve practical ends with."


    "I sense power, great power here," said Sahshir, feeling the low thrumming in his mind. "Many of the spirits congregate within this place."


    Urus, meanwhile, approached the altar. He drew up some dust from here, or what looked like dust. He smelled it. "Incense...


    "Someone was here recently."


    "Who comes before us?" asked a murmuring voice from the water. Out of the water came many humanoid figures, though many had features of animals. They seemed to be made of the water, and they swirled around them.


    "Water spirits," mused Urus. "Some of these are as far away as the Isle of Camas."


    "Camas," said Oresa, voice wistful. "I remember that adventure. Remember how high the southern mountains were? I remember Isamu wanted to climb them before you talked him out.


    "I wonder how the people there are doing since we drove out those charlatans? The ones pretending to be agents of the Fish King to scare people."


    "I believe Sorn invaded them," said Tuor. "It became a battleground between House Suvvest and Dinis in the most recent conflict."


    Oresa looked crestfallen at that.


    Sahshir, not to be deterred, moved forward and raised the Sword of Order. "I am King Sahshir of Western Kalthak; I seek an audience with the spirits of this place."


    "You are known to us," said the voice of the spirits. "What is it you desire?"


    "I seek to know why a spirit gathered a vast mist over Suvera," said Sahshir. "And also to know who did as much."


    "The people of Sorn believe they comprehend all," came the reply. "They do not. Yet their ignorance diminishes us. We are weakened."


    "What do you mean?" asked Oresa.


    "The villages to the south of us once worshipped us and gave tribute," said the spirit. "Now, however, they have ceased their worship. Soldiers of Sorn have interfered with our rituals, commanded they worship Coinfurth alone.


    "Now, our ability to manifest is waning."


    "Your actions were timed alongside the flight of many lizardfolk," said Sahshir. "Was this mere coincidence?"


    "The Fish King knows all that is hidden," replied the voice. "His thoughts extend beyond the moment to all things, and he knows them as they are."


    "Did he communicate with you?" asked Sahshir.


    "His voice is in every lapping of the waves," replied the voice. "It is in the rustling of the trees. All things in this world are but the merest fragment of his power. None may understand him, yet all know him in the darkness of their minds."


    "Why?" asked Sahshir, taking the answer as a yes.


    "It is unknown and unknowable," replied the spirits.


    Sahshir was beginning to see why the people of Sorn preferred to pretend these spirits did not exist. He disliked them already. "Do you know anything useful? Or are you just wasting our time?"


    "Time is an illusion," replied the voice. "There is only what is."


    "Is there an audience with the Fish King for us?" asked Sahshir. "And are you the one who grants it? And if so, why?"


    This question annoys the spirits and takes them off guard. Obviously, they preferred to keep people running around for a while. "...We may. It is our power to communicate with the Lord of the Unknown. However, to do so, you must perform a task."


    Sahshir almost threw their words back at them and told them that there was no future, only what is. So what they were asking was quite impossible. But that seemed both petty and unproductive and was likely to annoy them. "And what is that?"


    "The God, Typhos, is rising in power," said the spirits. "Many monsters that long cowered have been coming forth and massed in the marshes of Munsuen. Among the worst of them is the giant, Myosh. He has enslaved the spirits of the land and has filled the rivers with corpses.


    "Slay him, and you shall have what you desire."


    Sahshir nodded. "So be it."


    The spirits vanished. Sahshir looked to Tuor. The man was examining some statues that had escaped Sahshir''s notice. He seemed to be admiring their artistry. "Tuor."


    "Yes?" said Tuor. "What is it?"


    "Do you know who this Myosh is?" asked Sahshir.


    "Actually, yes," said Tuor, seemingly pleased he had asked. "Myosh is a brother of Grakus, who Sahshir killed in battle in Zigilus. One of many. He was known for devouring vast numbers of people and animals alike. Eventually, he was pursued and fled far abroad.


    "It seems he settled here."


    "I remember you and Grakus got on well, to say the least," noted Sahshir.


    "A professional association, I assure you," said Tuor.


    Sahshir looked at him for a moment. "...Of course."


    "Isn''t there a peaceful solution to this?" asked Oresa.


    "Typhos is our enemy," said Sahshir. "We should gain permission to kill this Myosh from the Merchant Lords, then wipe him out."


    "But..." Oresa faltered. "I don''t want to kill anyone?"


    "Then, don''t follow us," replied Sahshir simply. "You are under no obligation to go into battle if you are incapable of it." At some point, she was going to have to make a decision. He was surprised she''d put it off as long as she had.


    Then he felt a biting pain and clutched his arm. It was as though his body was trying to tear itself to pieces. Yet he used the Sword of Order to calm the unnatural disease.


    "Sahshir?" asked Oresa.


    Sahshir shrugged. "It''s nothing, just my body. Nothing worth worrying over.


    "We''ll meet up with Isamu and Cadas and make our plans."

 Chapter 328 - Seventeen: Incitement

    Isamu and Cadas had been left behind.


    Instead of seeking out the spirits, they watched Garrick sit in an office. The dust elf was constantly flipping through pages. Occasionally, he would turn, take hold of a quill, and write something in another book. It was not fun, and Isamu kept glancing out the window as they waited. He''d thought about playing cards, but Cadas always won.


    "What are you looking at?" asked Isamu, glancing at Garrick.


    Garrick did not look up. "The documentation for this office''s finances. There are a great many inconsistencies here."


    Isamu wasn''t interested, but he was even less interested in silence. "What kind of inconsistencies?"


    Garrick looked up. "They have been taxing the people here a great deal. Actually, the rates are far higher than they are contractually obligated to. Indeed, far more than they are meant to."


    "Why would they keep this record if it incriminates them?" asked Cadas.


    "Even criminals need contracts," said Garrick. "Without them, they would be unable to operate without constant infighting. More importantly, I doubt anyone has been enforcing these rules in years."


    "Why not?" asked Isamu.


    "These people are not considered a priority," said Garrick. "Many regard them as little more than a cheap labor source, for whom there are plenty more." He shut the book. "Still, this by itself will not be enough."


    "What do you mean?" asked Isamu.


    Garrick shrugged with nonchalant indifference, and Isamu didn''t like it. "Even if I were to bring proof of the abuses, they would not be arrested. In fact, I''d be surprised if anyone raised an eyebrow, let alone suffered any consequences. The officials who gave them these positions did it with the expectation they''d do just this."


    "But they''re priests!" said Isamu. When he''d seen that one before, he''d assumed he was a particularly bad one. How was it possible that an entire nation''s priesthood could be this horrible?


    If Baltoth ever conquered this place, the executioners would have a field day. There''d be crucifixions from dawn till dust for weeks, and every one of them would be deserved.


    "And that makes them law-abiding citizens?" asked Garrick.


    "In Calisha, an official who acted like this would be..." Isamu tried to think about what Baltoth would do. "Well, they''d be crucified if Baltoth was feeling lenient."


    "In Sorn, it is not the custom to punish criminals by raising them on a cross," said Garrick with wry humor. "We much prefer to raise them up with promotions."


    "So what are you going to do?" asked Isamu, liking this place less by the minute. He doubted Garrick had come out here if he didn''t have a plan.


    Garrick seemed to think about it. "...In this situation, all contracts are effectively null and void."


    "What do you mean?" asked Isamu.


    "No one involved in this sorry situation is fulfilling their obligations. Let alone their obligations in the social contract," said Garrick. "And therefore, an argument could be made that we are not obligated to consider them. As such, using proper channels need not apply."


    "So we''re going to break the rules?" asked Isamu.


    "Of course not; Knights of the Coin follow every rule and regulation, even if others do not," said Garrick. "To break such a rule, publically, would be a violation. One from which our reputation as impartial lawyers would never recover."


    "So you''ll let them get away with this?" asked Isamu.


    Garrick drew up the book he''d been writing and put it on the table near Isamu. "...I''d love to see all these people hung, but I cannot. I''d love to take these finances to the recently established printing press. From there, I ask them to produce several copies. Naturally, I''d use that bag of gold over there to pay for it. I have a subordinate, Finn Osman, whom you can find at the Headquarters of the Knights of the Coin. I am certain that he would carry it out if given this plan, even without specific orders.


    "Of course, this is all theoretical since I must do nothing. It is a shame these findings are not printed on every street corner. It would no doubt pressure the merchants to reign on their own. And that is assuming the ordinary people didn''t take matters into their own hands. But my hands are tied.


    "Unfortunately, I cannot afford to break the rules in the letter.


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    "Still, I suppose I''ll take a walk. I find that doing so often clears my head. Please do not do anything I wouldn''t do." And with that, he stood, turned his back on them, and walked to the door. "I think I shall take a long, long walk. You can certainly go someplace if you wish. Depending on how things turn out on that walk, I may find a reason to ignore your previous error in judgment."


    And he strode out without another word.


    Isamu glanced at Cadas. The big man eyed him warily. Isamu decided he didn''t really have a problem with Garrick''s plan. It would also save him the hassle of getting his legs broken. "Cadas, wait for Urus and Oresa; I''ll handle this."


    "Are you sure about this," asked Cadas. "Mob violence can get pretty ugly. It was a big problem in Drennish, with Lord Baelgost always gone."


    Isamu grabbed the book and moved to the door. "Don''t worry. These people deserve it, anyway. Tell Urus where I''ve gone, will you?"


    Then he headed out.


    Running at top speed, without waiting for the others, Isamu made it to the gates in a few hours. Although it left him tired and sweaty, he approached the gate. The guards barred it, and he noted they wore a different armor than last time. It was gilded, and they held spears. Their helms hid almost their entire face, and they had men with crossbows on top.


    "Hold where you are, traveler," said the guard. "If you wish to pass, you must pay the toll of one silver."


    "I just came through here," said Isamu, annoyed at this. "A day or two ago, I think."


    "True enough, but that was in the company of King Abdul Sahshir, a guest of Sorn," said the man with a shrug. "You are no longer and must pay the toll."


    "I am a demigod," said Isamu incredulously. Didn''t divine blood mean anything to these people? "Don''t you make exceptions for half-gods?"


    "Well, that changes things," said the guard with a shrug. "The toll will be three silver."


    "What?" said Isamu.


    "Priests are generally far richer than ordinary people, so we tax them more," said the guard with a shrug. "You''re not an ordinary person, and we don''t have rules for demigods since they''re so rare. So I''m counting you as a priest." Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "...I don''t have any money on me," said Isamu. He wished he was back in Kalthak; you didn''t need money there. It''s just the strength to defend people from bandits and get a free meal.


    "That''s not our problem," said the guard. "If your order doesn''t have the sense to use your position for profit, we''ve got no sympathy."


    "I''m on an errand..." Isamu realized he couldn''t blab about it. If he told the wrong person, Garrick could have serious problems. He supposed he could scale the wall a little way down if it came to it. "Look, isn''t there some sort of exception you make for emergencies?"


    "Usually, we charge more for those," admitted the guard. "People in emergencies don''t haggle as much. It''s a nice way to make a profit."


    "You haggle?" asked Isamu. Calisha had set tolls and prices. "So you''re telling me that if I man was running for his life, you''d force him to pay extra."


    "Yes," said the guard. "Unless there was a price on his head worth more than that. Then I''d turn him in.


    "Wait, do I know him?"


    "Why should that matter?" asked Isamu.


    "Well, if I know him and he''s a friend, I might let him through," said the guard. "If he''s an enemy, I''d want to rough him up a bit before I turned him in. It makes a big difference."


    "You people are sick," said Isamu.


    "That''s not my problem," said Finn. "Oh, and we also haggle in desperate cases if there is no price. If you tell them the toll is higher than it actually is, sometimes they just pay up and don''t ask questions."


    "That''s outrageous," said Isamu. "How do you sleep at night?"


    "In soldier''s quarters," said the guard simply. "If I make enough money, I could live in luxury with lots of nubile women. Thus, the tolls. Are you paying or what?"


    There was no way Isamu was paying this guy. He could beat him and his men up. Then he''d scale up the walls, beat up the crossbowmen, and be into the city in a flash. No, that would cause a stir, and while Isamu normally didn''t care, a stir could get them killed.


    "...I''ll come back later," said Isamu after a moment. Scaling the wall in secret, it was. Then he realized he needed to find out where the Knights of the Coin headquarters was. "Still, before I go up, can you direct me to the Headquarters for the Knights of the Coin?"


    "You''re looking at it," said the guard.


    "...You are Finn?" asked Isamu. Or was he bluffing?


    The guard took off his helm to reveal a bald, bearded man. He smiled, revealing perfect teeth.


    "Yep, Captain of the Southern Gate at your service. There are other HQs, of course, but for someone traveling with Garrick, I''m as good as them. Why are you looking for me?"


    Isamu raised the book. And he realized he didn''t fully trust this guy. "Garrick wants these printed and distributed."


    Finn took the book and flipped through it. "Hmm, well, this is going to be fun. I expect we''ll get a pay raise and get to crack some heads once we send out this." He glanced at a very tall woman with auburn hair. "Lauren, take over here." Then he looked to Isamu. "You can head back."


    "No way," said Isamu flatly. He wasn''t that dumb; everyone in this place was a mercenary. "I''m not letting you walk off with that book without keeping an eye on you."


    Finn laughed and began to walk. "Fair enough, and smart too. Follow behind; I''ll show you the way. I''ve already made all the arrangements."


    "Why?" asked Isamu as he chased after him. "Were you expecting this?"


    "Garrick figured out what he''d need others to do for this anyway," said Finn.


    "What''s your association with Garrick, anyway?" asked Isamu. He wondered how Garrick, the closest thing to a good man, fell in with this scoundrel.


    "When I was a boy, he took me into his company and taught me to fight," said Finn. "That was after the rest of my family had died because of that bastard Kaba. Let''s head on in. I''ll read through the documentation, figure out what to post, and we''ll start some fires."


    Isamu paused. "You do know that the people you incriminate are going to want you dead after you do this, right?"


    Finn smiled. "I''m looking forward to it."


    Isamu was so sick of Sorn.

 Chapter 329 - Eighteen: The Marshes of Munsuen

    Going to Munsuen was delayed upon Sahshir''s return.


    They''d had to do negotiations that required his input, such as meeting up with Isamu and Cadas. He was not given any satisfactory explanation for what they had been doing. Even so, given who they were fighting, Sahshir chose to take Isamu with them.


    Munsuen was a salt marsh. The stench of it assailed the nose, and the ground was of mud and rotting vegetation. The trees were slumped and had many twisting roots. Vines fell from their boughs, and ugly white flowers were on them.


    "So this is Munsuen. It looks like hell," said Isamu.


    "I think you''ll find it more than lives up to the reputation," said Tuor. "Ages ago, a Cult of Zigildrazia lived in these regions. They would raid the surrounding lands for sacrifices to their Goddess. They lure young people to them with promises of pleasures beyond measure.


    "Often, they ended up as sacrifices if they didn''t become part of the raiders."


    "So what happened to them?" asked Oresa.


    "The Knights declared Zigildrazia''s church a negative profit organization," said Urus.


    "What does that mean?" asked Isamu.


    "The Knights of the Coin hold that life is the search for profit in all things," said Tuor. "However, they also maintain that profit is not measured purely in money. So a man with a vast fortune may be poor in their eyes, and an ordinary man rich.


    "To be declared a nonprofit organization. It is to be declared an entity that contributes nothing to any cause. It generally caused to be broken up. Being declared a negative profit organization is to be a parasite. One who is detrimental to profit for all involved. It is usually only done before a Commerce Crusade.


    "The Knights of the Coin fought them for years. They were battling, converting, and killing the servants of Zigildrazia. Eventually, the cults lost. Their idols were torn down, and their religion sent into hiding."


    "When was this?" asked Urus.


    "Alkela could explain that much," mused Sahshir.


    Alkela, who had accompanied them, motioned with her hands. Sahshir nodded. "It was back when Zigilus was at the height of its power. In those days, they sent Battlelusters to many repressed nations. They inspired them to serve Zigildrazia. When they found the people of this place, they were being overrun by satyrs.


    "Zigildrazia whipped the people into a frenzy. She allowed them to take pleasure in their desperate war against the satyrs. They fought with frenzy and fury, allowing the Knights of the Coin to regroup and defeat them. Then, they sought to spread Zigildrazia''s blessings in the days of peace afterward. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The Knights of the Coin felt threatened and sought to exterminate them."


    "Well, there are two sides to every story," said Urus.


    "And one of them is usually wrong," noted Sahshir.


    Tuor laughed as they began to walk into the forests. "Such zealous dismissal, Sahshir. You really should learn to accept other perspectives for their value."


    "You can''t possibly believe the words of a demon," said Sahshir.


    "Of course not, I believe nothing," said Tuor. "I merely feel that the beliefs of others can be used to achieve my ends. I can use it by understanding what they desire for my purposes."


    Alkela motioned, and Sahshir translated. "Zigildrazia created that style of thinking. So says Alkela."


    "It does not matter to me," said Tuor with a shrug. "We are nearing the village. They will tell us where to find Myosh."


    "Why are we even hunting Myosh?" asked Isamu. "Shouldn''t we consult Sen about this?"


    "Yeah, um, Sahshir, that seemed strange to me," said Oresa.


    "I sent a message to him; he knows what I am doing," said Sahshir.


    "But what if he thinks we should do something else?" asked Oresa.


    "I am taking action in my own way," said Sahshir. "Sen may do what he wishes."


    As it turned out, the village was walled by a stone wall about six feet high. At the gates were men with spears, and the people were covered in muck. People were tending to fields of plants grown in very wet conditions. As they neared the gates, a man with one eye peered at them. "Are you warriors? Were you sent by Suvera?"


    "In a manner of speaking," said Sen. "We are here to hunt Myosh, the giant."


    "Thank the gods," said the man. "I am Osbourne, the Chief of this place. We had thought we were forsaken. We sent requests for help to the Church, but..."


    "But what?" asked Sahshir.


    "We couldn''t pay the fee, and we haven''t been able to make our taxes recently," said Osbourne. "We told the Church that Myosh was raiding our fields! With that, it would be impossible to make up our tithe!"


    "What did they say?" asked Sahshir.


    "They just told us to make it happen," said Osbourne.


    There was dead silence.


    "What does that mean?" asked Oresa.


    "I don''t know!" said Osbourne. "The Church doesn''t do anything for the congregation anymore. They just make demands and cut off support for anyone who doesn''t reach them. Then, the priests make sermons about how great they are and give bribes to their friends.


    "This never happened when the Knights of the Coin ran things."


    "Who do you believe dispatched us?" asked Sahshir.


    "You are Knights of the Coin?" asked Osbourne.


    "We are acting on behalf of their Grandmaster," said Tuor. "Now, where is Myosh?"


    "We''re not sure," said Osbourne. "He hides within the depths of the marshes, and anyone who ventures in rarely comes out. Never if it''s night. He''s been carrying off people day and night from the villages around here¡ªhim and the satyr tribes that serve him.


    "The Knights of the Coin almost wiped them out, but now we''ve got to deal with Church mercenaries."


    Sahshir glanced at Tuor. "Tuor, you know many rituals. Can you locate Myosh?"


    "I believe so," said Tuor. "I will need the Sword of Order and some of your blood as a focus."


    Sahshir drew his sword, drew off his glove, and ran the blade along his palm. Clenching the blade, he let go, spun it around, and offered it to Tuor. "Take it."


    Oresa moved forward and began to heal Sahshir''s hand. As she did, Tuor raised the Sword of Order skyward. "Now, we shall see what we may find."


    They waited as a light shot into the sky. The people of the village looked on at them in awe. Sahshir glanced at Osbourne, then back to Tuor. "What is it?"


    "Zigildrazia is at work," said Tuor, lowering the sword. "Many of the people who were taken are alive and have been taken captive.


    "And I have Myosh''s location."


    Tuor handed the sword back to Sahshir, who sheathed it. "Lead on, Tuor." Tuor, however, looked distracted and distant. "What is it?"


    "I have not wielded this blade in a long time," said Tuor. "Still, the spell will wane, and I must lead you."


    And so they set out.


    The marsh only got worse from here, however. Tuor led them along strange paths, and the muck clung to their legs and splashed onto their bodies. Oresa looked particularly miserable with her bare legs. "It''s all over my legs."


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    "What did you expect with that outfit?" asked Sahshir. He wondered how it was that she could travel in all that. Even Narcissa switched to more traditional armor.


    "It never was a problem for me before," said Oresa. "My powers, um... well, they''re a bit complicated. I was blessed by the spirits in gratitude to Father''s ruling. It was a gift for him doing such a good job."


    Tuor halted and raised a hand. Everyone halted at once. "Wait."


    "What is it?" asked Sahshir.


    "Demons," said Tuor, drawing up his nunchucks. "Stand ready!"


    Everyone drew their weapons, and Oresa looked more competent with hers. Still, this was not her ideal place. "Oresa, step back. Isamu and Cadas handle our left flank. Hold them where they are."


    And then they came.


    They were vast, shapeless monsters with blades, tentacles, and gaping mouths. They came from the water and out of the trees and from above. Sahshir cut down two in a blur, even as Isamu slashed them through. Urus sent his staff to land in a wide square, and lightning surged from his hands. As it did, Sahshir saw the spirit within it.


    The resulting lightning display destroyed a vast group of them, but the rest scattered.


    Moving back and forth, Sahshir slashed down one enemy after another. Tuor moved in a blur, striking down all who came at him. Then Sahshir glanced back to where Oresa was backing off. Suddenly, something emerged from the swamp behind her. It was a beast with black skin and horns, a satyr with red eyes. In a flash, his hands reached out and came at her.


    Cadas leaped between her and struck it, the two fighting hand to hand. However, the beast threw him down. Oresa staggered back in fear, dropping her sword, and the beast surged at her. In an instant, Oresa''s cry was cut short.


    "Stay where you are, humans!" snarled the satyr.


    "You, let the girl go!" said Isamu.


    "Stand where you are, or I''ll break her neck!" said the demon.


    Sahshir calculated how fast he''d have to move mentally and made plans. And then Isamu went forward anyway. His blade glowed with a bright light and sent a wave toward them both.


    "You bastard!" roared Isamu.


    "Imbecile!" snapped Sahshir, interposing himself between the wave. Summoning the power of the Sword of Order, there was a flash, and the satyr flinched. The wave evaporated, and Sahshir brought around his sword. Slicing the hand from the beast''s wrist, moving up, he plunged the blade through the creature''s head. Tearing it out, he turned to Isamu as Oresa fell to her knees. The body of the best faded to ash in a moment.


    "Sahshir, what the hell are you doing!" snapped Isamu.


    "I might ask you the same question," said Sahshir. "You nearly killed Oresa!" He saw most of the demons had been killed.


    "That attack was aimed at the satyr!" said Isamu.


    "It would have hit both of them, you idiotic brute!" snarled Sahshir.


    "I didn''t see you making any plans!" said Isamu.


    "Please, stop it, both of you!" said Oresa.


    "And you, Oresa, why didn''t you use your shield when Cadas was overwhelmed?" asked Sahshir. "Had the beast gone for him, he would be dead."


    "I... I didn''t think I could do it; I panicked-" said Oresa.


    "Enough," said Tuor. "We have no time for these arguments. Oresa, heal us, and be more careful next time."


    Sahshir let the matter go reluctantly. He was starting to think Isamu was more trouble than he was worth. In


    Instead, they examined the bodies and realized the land around them was subtly different. The hanging vines seemed to have thorns further down, and the sky was a reddish tinge above. The water let forth a stench like rotting bodies.


    And Sahshir could sense monstrous energies all around them. There were only a few of the beasts they faced. Worse still, more were coming out of the ground all around them. Visions came to Sahshir of more of the creatures mustering.


    "How did they sneak up on us?" asked Urus. "They should not have had it so easily?"


    "By using the natural counterbalance to Order, that of Chaos," said Tuor. "Typhos'' powers are this blade''s antithesis, so may avoid detection. Order cannot detect chaos, only its effects."


    "Yeah, well, stop with the nostalgia and lead on," said Isamu. "Oresa nearly got killed because of Sahshir!"


    "I seem to recall you endangered her nearly as much as the demon," said Sahshir.


    "Stop it, both of you," said Tuor. "We must move."


    "What''s the hurry?" asked Cadas.


    "I can sense many demons of Typhos coming toward us from all directions," said Tuor. "Yet their net is not yet complete; we need only slip through it." Turning, he glanced at the vines. "Here, scale up here, the branches will hide us."


    The climb-up needed to be fixed. Several of them cut their hands on the way up, and as they did, Sahshir could sense the beasts coming ever closer. Soon, vast numbers of them slithered past the trees. As they did, Oresa scarcely contained her breath.


    "So many," said Oresa.


    "How could Myosh have this many demons at his disposal?" murmured Tuor as satyrs came below. There was a vast shrieking as they came. "And why hadn''t he picked the surrounding area clean of life?"


    "Perhaps he wants a renewable resource," mused Urus. "These are, if I''m not mistaken, raishans. By not depopulating the surrounding villages, he can snatch one occasionally. In so doing, he has a constant source of souls to use.


    "I suspect Myosh has been here far longer than anyone has been aware. Likely, his operations were thought to be only wild animal attacks. Then later, as his influence affected the land, men became aware of that."


    Eventually, the creatures passed.


    "What are these things?" asked Isamu as he dropped down.


    Sahshir landed, ignoring the pain in his legs as he did. "One of those creatures, the tentacle beast, is a demon of Amysta. I remember I faced several of them in battle. What would it be doing here?"


    "Perhaps Amysta has designs of her own," mused Tuor.


    Alkela motioned, and Sahshir noticed it. "Alkela believes Amysta is almost certainly acting contrary to Zigildrazia''s interests. Her spirit has been seeking to regain its power over the domain of Lust for ages.


    "It is possible that she wants to have a standing army. When her cults eventually take serious root. She can then reinforce them with these raishans."


    "We should move on. The enemy has passed, but they will be back," said Tuor.


    On they went, and the sky became even redder. The vines seemed to grope at them with thorns forming the shape of claws. The water below them seemed almost like blood, and the dirt and grime seemed to be trying to suck them down. Then came the sound of running water, but it was like the moans of the dead.


    Looking at the water, Sahshir thought he saw dead faces. But when he reached down, there was nothing there.


    "What is this?" asked Oresa.


    "...The natural order deeper in the swamp is breaking down," mused Tuor. "Hell itself has entered into this domain. Amysta has indeed been clever."


    "Why would Sorn let this happen?" asked Isamu.


    "When the gods retreat from a realm, hell always seeks to take their place," mused Tuor.


    "What does that mean?" asked Isamu.


    "It means that only fools shut the gods out of their world unless they mean to serve hell," said Tuor.


    "It also means that this blade will be of little help locating enemies," said Sahshir. Then he reached out with his mind. Distantly, he could sense something out there. It was a living force that still subscribed to the rule of order. "I can sense Myosh, but I will no longer be able to detect any ambush. Stay keen."


    "Right, my eyes are peeled," said Oresa. "Um, maybe I should-"


    "Enough," said Tuor. "We should move on."


    And on they went.


    The water soon became pitch black, and serpents could be seen swimming around them. The trees grew great thorns, while the leaves seemed like blades. The sky now seemed to be an inferno above them, and wherever they went, a haze of red seemed about them. The wind was like the howling of tortured souls.


    At last, they came to a cave.


    It stood at the very center of a great lake, and the only path to it was a series of black stepping stones. Looking beneath the surface, Sahshir could see skulls at the bottom. Hell had taken hold of this domain, and more demons must have been drawn through with every day.


    Moving across the stones, they came to the mouth of the cave. It was just tall enough for someone to go into it. Yet Sahshir sensed from it a power deep within, one that he did not want to face directly.


    "This cave..." said Tuor. "This is where Myosh dwells. I can sense him within."


    "And he can sense us, from the looks of things," said Urus.


    Sahshir glanced back and saw that the tentacled monsters were alongside many black-skinned satyrs. They wielded swords and spears. One of them moved forward, sharp teeth smiling. "You humans will pay the price for your intrusion into Lord Myosh''s domain! We shall consume you!"


    An arrow caught him in the throat, and he fell to dust. More arrows fell into those around them as they began to wade across.


    "These satyrs are not like others I''ve seen," noted Urus, firing arrow after arrow.


    "I know," said Tuor. "They are not satyrs at all, but demons that once were satyrs made manifest. No doubt, they were harvested from the domain of the Unborn God.


    "Many demons do."


    The creatures were slowly but surely making their way across the lay. Urus spent every arrow and hurled his staff instead. It broke apart, separating into a line and sending lightning between them. The bolts burned many to a crisp and kept the others back.


    "What now?" asked Cadas.


    "Isamu..." said Oresa.


    "Guess we''ll just have to cut our way out," said Isamu with a smile.


    "I''d much prefer to just kill them all," mused Sahshir, deciding he''d had enough of Isamu for one lifetime.


    "Indeed, that would decrease hell''s influence in this region, wouldn''t it?" Tuor mused.


    "Isamu, go ahead and kill Myosh," said Sahshir, taking back his sword from Tuor. "He''ll be in that cave."


    "What, are you sure?" asked Isamu.


    "It is of no concern," said Sahshir. "And I have no need to engage him directly anyway. Go, by my command. I have confidence you''ll handle it."


    Isamu smirked. "Right."


    Then he rushes in. Alkela gave Sahshir a flat look that Sahshir ignored. Finally, Alkela smiled.


    "Oresa, I have more use for your shields than your sword. Use them to guard our flanks. Cadas, Alkela, you are our reserves.


    "Tuor, you, Urus, and I will be the front line."


    "And what happens if Isamu dies?" asked Tuor.


    Sahshir gave Tuor a flat look, and Tuor took the point.


    "Be wary," said Urus. "My lightning is at its end."


    Drawing back his staff, he took a stance, and the monsters approached them. Forming the line, Sahshir looked at Urus. "Tell me this: How do you control the lightning?"


    "My grandmother was a storm spirit in human form," said Urus. "I''ve learned the knack from her."


    And then the battle began in earnest.


    The creatures came at them in waves and formed a line; they fought them as one. Urus'' staff moved in a blur. The strikes of Tuor''s nunchucks smashed limbs and sent waves of ash flowing. Sahshir leaped back and forth, striking down all who came. At the same time, Oresa raised shields over their flanks, funneling them toward them.


    It was obviously putting her under a great deal of strain¡ªhowever, that way, not Sahshir''s concern at the moment. Behind him, he sensed Isamu descending into the darkness of Myosh deep within. The beast emerged, and their battle was met.


    Several monsters scaled over the shields and were met by Alkela and Cadas. The two fought with brutal power. For a time, the two strove against one another, and as they did, the waters flowed in waves. Winds ripped through the trees, hurting his ears as he cut them down.


    Then, all of a sudden, everything stopped.


    Myosh''s life force vanished. The cave shuddered and began to collapse as unholy energy flowed away. The demons were washed away from reality like filth in a swift-flowing river, and the sky turned blue. As it did, Sahshir sheathed his sword.


    Oresa fell to her knees, gasping for breath as Isamu exited the cave.


    "What happened?" asked Urus.


    "Well, I went down there, and it turned out Myosh had some plan to take over the world," said Isamu.


    "From a swamp?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes, he was performing ritual sacrifices to Amysta, not Zigildrazia," said Isamu. "And was hoping to gain her favor and be bestowed her blessing. Once he did that, he hoped to seize her direct descendant in Antion and use her as Amysta''s mortal vessel.


    "Apparently, he also had agents among the lizardfolk. They were behind those rituals."


    "So what happened?" asked Oresa.


    "Well, first, he sicced a bunch of boring guys in ridiculous outfits on me, and I killed them," said Isamu. "Then he used their life force as a sacrifice and gained Amysta''s blessing. We fought for a bit, and he used some weird ritual to take on a new demonic form.


    "Apparently, it was way more powerful than usual.


    "Anyway, then I killed him, nothing all that great. If I had a coin for every time I''ve run into a bandit with delusions of grandeur... Well, there wouldn''t be a pauper left in the world."


    "His head," said Sahshir.


    "What?" said Isamu.


    "Did you get his head?" asked Sahshir. "We were instructed to retrieve it with the Fish King for our audience."


    "I uh..." Isamu shifted. "I may have forgotten it."


    "Very well," said Sahshir. "We''ll retrieve it, and then-"


    Suddenly, his vision blurred, and he fell to one knee. Agony filled him, and he heard exclamations of concern. Then, suddenly, he fell and remembered nothing more than that.

 Chapter 330 - Nineteen: Revelations Hurt

    Sahshir awoke.


    At once, he became aware of his surroundings. The Sword of Order was clenched in one hand but sheathed, and he was lying in a soft bed. Too soft; in fact, it was uncomfortable for him, and his neck ached. Sitting up, he glanced to one side and saw that boy from before.


    Makas Kaba, wasn''t it? The boy seemed to be cutting up several different herbs on a table near him. He looked at Sahshir. "So, you''re awake then?"


    "Yes, I am," said Sahshir. "Where are we?"


    "I''m Makas Kaba, and you''re in my home," he paused. "Well, Sen''s home by contract. But mine too."


    "How did I come here?" asked Sahshir.


    "Your friends brought you in here," said Makas. "That disease of yours was flaring up and getting much worse. Fortunately, I knew some of the herbs necessary to help with it. They tried paying a Priest of Coinfurth, but their magics weren''t any good for some reason."


    Sahshir thought something was wrong with that question. "I don''t have friends."


    "Well, whoever they were, they wanted to see you," said Makas. She cut more herbs and then put them into a boiling pot as he did. "You should be grateful for my brother putting you up here. He didn''t have to, especially with how you threw him in prison."


    Sahshir gazed at him. "Do you know the things your brother has done?"


    "Sure, but it''s nothing anyone else is doing," said Makas.


    "It is," said Sahshir. "Even if that were true, a wrong action remains wrong, even if everyone is doing it." Then he rose. "Thank you for your hospitality." Looking at one hand, he saw he was wearing white clothes. "Though I must wonder why you provided it?"


    "My brother respects you," said Makas. "I don''t see why. He doesn''t respect anyone."


    "That is the root of his weakness," replied Sahshir flatly. "If you hold nothing as valuable, you treat everything as worthless." He paused. "Where are my armor and clothes?"


    "Over there," said Makas. "It''s all there if you need it. We had to swap out some of the clothes. It was all torn up and fouled by dark magics."


    "My thanks," said Sahshir. "I ask you to leave me. I must dress now."


    "That disease," said Makas. "I''m normally able to heal things like that. And I''ve got some people in my Healers Guilds who are very skilled. But none of them could even make a dent in the affliction.


    "Who did you upset to get that kind of plague?"


    "No one," said Sahshir. "It is a family inheritance."


    Makas nodded, then left.


    Sahshir dressed in his clothes and armor and donned his mask. Sen''s mansions were a place of narrow halls and small windows. There were no servants and rooms upon empty rooms. Many of them were covered in layers of dust. They didn''t look to have had anyone in them for years. It seemed a lonely and desolate place, just like everything in Sorn. All the crystal chandeliers in the world couldn''t hide it.


    Though there were a lot of books, which was always nice. They were entering one of the lower rooms. And he found his comrades, bar Isamu and Cadas, speaking together.


    "Sahshir, you''re awake," said Urus, standing up. "Thank Baltoth.


    "How long was I out?" asked Sahshir.


    "It''s been a day since you passed out," said Tuor. "We thought you would lose you there for a time." He clasped Sahshir by the shoulder.


    "Have you met the spirits?" asked Sahshir.


    "Yes, the head was delivered, and we have been granted our audience," said Tuor. "We have returned to Suvera to clear things with Sen Kaba."


    "Good," said Sahshir, wanting to get this over with. "Where is the meeting to take place?"


    "Three days from now, in the sea depths," said Tuor.


    "Very well then," said Sahshir. "Make contact with Kaba; we will bring our prisoner with us as a show of goodwill."


    "Unfortunately, that may be difficult," said Tuor. "Kaba has not been idle. He has been meeting with the other Merchant Lords, and I fear they plan for war."


    "War?" asked Oresa. "How is he going to fight? They''re underwater."


    "That''s why they are making plans," said Tuor. "We now have a minimal amount of time."


    "Go to him and try to get him to stall," said Sahshir. "I''ll deal with the Fish King."


    And he walked toward the door; Urus rose to go after him. Sahshir was caught in the hall as he fell to one knee.


    "Are you certain you should be moving in your condition?" asked Urus.


    "I am the leader, and there is no other I trust to go in my stead," said Sahshir, opening the door and walking through. Beyond were Isamu and Cadas as Alkela fell in behind him. "As I said, there is no other I trust to go in my stead. Fall in, all of you. I must find Nagos."


    "You''ll be able to find him near one of the taverns with the lizardfolk girl," said Tuor.


    "What do you mean?" asked Sahshir.


    "Apparently, he talked Kaba into letting her walk free alongside him," said Tuor. "He''s been having her show him around the city as a guide. We suspect the idea was to destroy the aura of mystery about things."


    "What of the cult of Zigildrazia?" asked Sahshir. "And those creatures of Amysta."


    "Alkela believes that it was only a cult of Amysta acting on her behalf," said Tuor, nodding to the girl. "She uses many of the same rituals as Zigildrazia. And Alkela has noticed several telltale signs on closer inspection."


    "I''ll speak to Nagos about it soon," decided Sahshir.


    Sahshir left them behind shortly and found the place where Nagos was using the Sword of Order. It was better than some of the taverns, but at the same time, not the finest. As he entered, a man brushed past him with a paper, bringing it to another.


    "Look at this!" he said, sounding furious.


    "What is it?" asked the man, taking it.


    "A record of finances from the priests sent to rule over the indentured servants!" said the first. "They raised taxes three times this year, and they''ve been using it for this!"


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "Those bastards," said the second, shaking visibly. "What are we going to do about this?"


    "We can''t do anything; the city guard will crackdown on us if we try anything," said another. "And even if we do, it won''t make any difference. There will be a new priest after them."


    "You can''t think like that," said Nagos, approaching from a table. Near him was the lizard girl.


    "Hmm, what do you mean, Nagos?" asked the man. How did Nagos get on a first-name basis here? He''d only been here a week or two.


    "If you think that nothing will ever change, nothing will change," said Nagos. "You need to do your best to get your goal, wait for an opportunity, and do what you can." Then he moved up to Sahshir. "Hey, Sahshir, it''s been a while."


    "That it has, Nagos," said Sahshir. "I see you''ve been busy."


    "Yes, well, I figured I''d get Amasara to show me around the city," said Nagos with a shrug. "I''ve been looking for a guide who can tell me how ordinary people have it."


    "So you raided the prison?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, it got her out," admitted Nagos. "And by familiarizing people with her, we''re decreasing the chance of a real war."


    "Have you met anyone who used to know her?" asked Sahshir.


    "Oh, come on, Sahshir, don''t speak about Amasar like she''s not in the room?" asked Nagos.


    Sahshir looked to Amasara. "...Have you shown him anyone you used to know."


    The response hurt the ears to hear.


    "No, apparently, the transformation is sort of like reincarnation," said Nagos quickly. "They physically become a human, and then when they transform back, the memories go. They only have a vague familiarity with things not relevant to their mission.


    "Still, she''s told me many interesting things about her people."


    "Such as?" asked Sahshir.


    "It turns out that the lizardfolk and other creatures of the Fish King thrive on the unknown," said Nagos. "They draw strength from the blank spots in people''s knowledge. The more things people don''t understand, the more powerful their race is.


    "In the beginning, when mortals knew nothing, they were all-powerful. But as we came to understand things more, they had to retreat to the dark places of the universe."


    "Then, gaining knowledge hurts them?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, yeah, but so does losing knowledge," said Nagos. "The good news is that people are all ignorant of something. For instance, Sorn knows a lot more about how people work now. Still, the upper classes have no understanding of those beneath them. So that ignorance gives the lizardfolk room to operate in."


    "Then what of the books?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, fear of the unknown is an inherent thing everybody grapples with," said Nagos. "It''s heavily focused on the Fish King''s texts and. It sort of builds on them. Combined with other horrors that creep to mind, it''s incredibly stressful to read. The resulting fear thus feeds the lizardfolk and helps them maintain their dimension."


    Sahshir considered what else he had learned. "What would happen if the unknown were to decrease greatly?"


    "Well, if it got awful, they might have to abandon their cities and flee further into the unknown," mused Nagos.


    "What of the Fish King? How does he fit into all this?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, the lizardfolk were once ruled by the Fish King. That was back when all was unknown and in darkness," said Nagos. "They called this period the Fog of Creation.


    "In those days, they could go anywhere. They could do anything, and they didn''t take the form of lizards at all. As mortals began to understand the universe better, they had to take on a physical form. The Fish King did first and went to sleep to dream, and the lizardfolk came into existence.


    "They believe that someday...


    "What?" He looked to Amasara, who whispered something into his ear. "Oh right, well, they believe that the Fish King will soon awaken. When he does, the world will end, and all the mortals will be killed. While they go to their afterlife, the universe shall be unknown again. The Fog of Creation will return. Then they can return to their old forms, but even more terrible and powerful."


    "Wait, why would it be happening soon?" asked Sahshir, feeling he already knew.


    "Translating the Fish King''s texts damaged the foundations of the unknown," said Nagos. "So the lizardfolk are being pressed ever harder than before. If the unknown completely disappears, they will as well. So the Fish King has to awaken before then." Nagos realized where Sahshir was going. "Oh, I think Kaba just doomed the world by trying to save it."


    Sahshir put his face in his hands. "...I really hate that man."


    How was it possible that Sen could get even worse?


    It was a question Sahshir contemplated a few hours later.


    Sahshir was meditating along the pier, watching the sea. There was a stillness in the air. Isamu was trying and failing to throw his sword into the air and balance it on his palm. He hadn''t succeeded yet, and he''d broken his arm twice. Finally, he gave up and moved up to Sahshir.


    "So what is the plan here?" asked Isamu.


    "We are to wait here for the Fish King''s herald," said Sahshir. "Once he arrives, we will descend with the girl and return her." He looked to Nagos. "From there, you will have your meeting."


    "Oh good," said Nagos. "It''s been a while since I talked with him. I wonder if he''ll meet us personally."


    "Why exactly are we seeking an audience with him anyway?" asked Isamu. "Couldn''t we just beat him up?"


    "We''re going to establish a dialogue and attempt to make a truce of sorts," said Sahshir. "I''ve convinced Sen to let us take the risk. So we stand some semblance of a chance of not ending the world."


    "What do you think Sen would do?" asked Nagos.


    "Probably behave as though the Fish King was a defeated power," mused Sahshir. "Or worse, try to cheat him."


    "To what end are we even asking for a truce?" asked Urus. "They aren''t attacking us? It''s Sen who has been striking at his power."


    "Do you want the Fish King to arise tens of thousands of years from now?" asked Nagos. "Or in a few dozen?"


    "Tens of thousands," said Urus.


    "Precisely," said Sahshir. "Our goal here is to come up with terms by which both sides can abide to ensure they need not conflict."


    "You never struck me as the type to negotiate, Sahshir," said Isamu.


    "I have fought gods," said Sahshir. "That does not mean I like my chances."


    "Garrick," said Isamu, glancing at the Knight. "I''m guessing you''re the official representative."


    "Yes," said Garrick. "I am here as the official representative of the Church of Coinfurth. Naturally, they must be the ones to speak with a god-like the Fish King, on behalf of mortals. Ordinarily, they would send someone else. Fortunately, House Suvvest regards this as a suicide mission.


    "I didn''t even run into any assassins on my way here."


    "No one else wanted the job?" asked Oresa.


    "Yes, and I expect Suvvest likes the idea of me never returning," said Garrick.


    At that point, a huge, bald man rushed toward them. Sahshir remembered seeing him among Garrick''s men during the Second War of Power. "Garrick!"


    "Ah, Finn, you''ve returned. What news?" asked Garrick.


    "I''ve managed to get the fire brigade together as you requested and arranged for the mass," said Finn.


    "Mass?" asked Isamu.


    "Yes, I had some contacts suggest a particular course of action to the High Priest. I felt that he ought to send out his priests to do a great deal of preaching," said Garrick. "To stir up people''s emotions with the recent trouble with the Fish King."


    "How will that help?" asked Isamu.


    Garrick smiled, and it disturbed Sahshir. Something was about to go very badly for someone. "It will help me quite a bit.


    "Coincidently, I suggested that Sen Kaba order most of the city guard to the wharves in case of treachery."


    "And the fire brigade?" asked Isamu.


    At that moment, a building burst into flame as sounds of breaking glass and shouts of fury could be heard. The Priest of Coinfurth rushed around the bend from before. Soon behind him came a mob of enraged citizens with knives and axes. "Help! Help me, please!"


    One of the guards, whom Isamu had addressed as Finn, stepped before him and drew his sword. The mob and the priest stopped. "How much are you paying me?"


    The mob took the hint, and so did the priest.


    "No, no, please!" screamed the priest.


    And then the mob was on him.


    "Kill him! Break his bones! Take his wallet!" screamed the crowd as they began to stab him repeatedly. The fire brigade got to work on the building while several screams radiated from the streets.


    "Well, mobs can get very violent, you know," said Garrick.


    Behind him, having finished stabbing the man to death, people started stabbing eachother. Apparently, they disagreed about who would get to steal his silk garments. The argument was rendered moot a moment later when someone got cut with a knife, and blood poured over the silk.


    "I hope the herald arrives within the next day," said Urus. "I imagine the surface is going to get very, very, bloody soon enough."


    "What did you do?!" said Oresa.


    "Oh, I didn''t do anything," said Garrick. "The High Priest instructed me not to use the information.


    "Your associate, Isamu, found some very sensitive documentation. Coincidentally, that documentation was revealed by factors outside of my control. And since Kaba has had all the city guards assigned to the port, I expect many casualties. I wasn''t able to catch Kaba in any corruption, of course. Financial dishonesty is, fortunately, not one of his vices. But I doubt the other merchants will be happy with his decisive actions.


    "After all, they can hardly be protected from the mobs if the town guard is focused on the sea. Strange, is it not? Violence is such a convenient tool for breakers of contracts to speed things along. They imagine a world where they need not give anything to themselves. Meanwhile, they receive limitless service for continued brutality. However, now..." He chuckled. "I imagine they are less pleased with the world they wanted."


    Another building caught fire as guards rushed forward to try to restore order. They soon found the knives turned on them as stones were hurled.


    "I''m surprised at you," said Sahshir.


    Garrick shrugged. "In a situation where no one is following their obligations, all contacts are null and void. As such, my only obligation is to use all means to restore the social contract.


    "A mass lynching that removes the most corrupt officials seems a small price to pay. Especially since the Merchant Lords will be more cautious about exploiting people." He looked for the first time at the bloodshed, framed behind a raging inferno. "Overpopulation should be less of a problem, "I expect the Construction Guild to have a field day.


    "On a brighter note, it will also serve as my gift to the Fish King."


    "How so?" asked Urus as a cold wind blew by them. A raging inferno was raised on a building some ways away.


    "A few decades from now, the story will be very different. It will be said that the very presence of the Fish King''s herald drove the city mad," said Garrick. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You ruin men with expert finesse," said Tuor, who had been reading by the sea until now.


    "Thank you," said Garrick. "But the real credit goes to the everyday people of Sorn. All I did was provide them with the information they needed to know. They are the ones who decided to murder the people cheating them. It just so happens that decision suits my purposes perfectly."


    "...You are a very sick person, Garrick," said Nagos flatly. "A lot of innocent people are going to die for this."


    Garrick shrugged. "A small price for making a point."


    Then, as the bloodshed and violence grew to a crescendo, a vast mist returned. It flowed over the flaming streets, obscuring sight and sand. A vast shadow rose overhead as screaming and cries of rage continued. Now Sahshir was standing in a narrow corridor, looking over the water.


    Soon, that water began to foam, and as it foamed, many tendrils rose skyward as something emerged. It was like a woman, yet if it had eyes, they were obscured by a mask of flesh that seemed part of her face. Her form was vaguely visible but with innumerable tendrils. Gazing at her, he found it difficult to see where her flesh ended, and the sea began.


    "Stand your ground, but do not strike. Stay where you are," said Tuor.


    "What is that thing?" asked Oresa.


    Nagos moved forward quickly and spoke to it. Amasara stood with him, and a kind conversation went between them. They speak, and eventually, Nagos turned back to them. "King Abdul Sahshir, the Fish King, awaits."


    Sahshir nodded and rose, then motioned to the others.


    "Well, that is our cue," said Tuor. "Come, let''s brave the depths and leave Suvera to Suvera."


    They followed the herald into the water, going from madness to madness.

 Chapter 331 - Twenty: The Fish King

    They passed into the water, and the sea parted around them as they stepped down the pier. Descending, they found a stair of foam beneath their feet. They had yet to go far down it before the waves closed over them again.


    The company now was marching down a great hall. The rear of the hall was fading to the sea and the front opening before them. The saltwater spray surrounded them, and Sahshir saw strange shapes in the water. Vast, winding tendrils seemed to coil in the depths, and he could not tell what color they were.


    However, his companions did not seem to see them. Oresa seemed to be openly marveling at something in the water. A glance revealed a vast school of fish swimming past them, then a school of dolphins. Behind them, Sahshir saw the land appearing almost like a great cliff reaching up toward the sky.


    "Have you ever seen the land from this angle, Urus?" asked Oresa.


    "Of course not," said Urus. "None of us have ever been this low before."


    They saw many other things on that journey. Whales were swimming by the corridor, their calls reaching out throughout the water. But soon, the waters became ever darker, and Sahshir needed to draw the Sword of Order to light the way. The Herald of the Fish King led on, silent, while Nagos walked behind.


    And then they began to see other things.


    At first, it was only massive tentacles reaching up out of the darkest depths. Then they saw shapes shifting and changing before them. They swam here and there, and gazing upon them was not enough to determine their shape. They were beasts of innumerable mouths and teeth, and Sahshir averted his eyes.


    "What... what are these things?" asked Oresa.


    "Elders," said Nagos. "They existed before all that was.


    "Amasara..."


    Amasara said something, and Nagos listened.


    "What is it?" asked Sahshir.


    "As they delve deeper into the unknown, they take on their true nature," said Nagos.


    Soon, they reached the ocean floor. Here, they saw stones of many colors that gleamed beneath the light. Yet Sahshir could see no sign of where the light came from. Alkela walked beside them, and over time they saw structures.


    They were made of many green pillars with pictures of humans mutating into beasts. Yet there were also runes on it.


    "What is it, Alkela?" asked Nagos.


    Sahshir looked up and saw that Alkela was making hand gestures in irritation. He''d missed them the first time. "Those runes up there are those of Amysta and Zigildrazia,"


    "The Shark Queen is aligned with Amysta," said Tuor. "Her creatures ravage the universe in her name. Move quickly; their eyes may be upon us even now."


    They walked on in greater haste.


    As they did, Sahshir peered in various directions. As he did, he saw shapes moving in the darkness. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a white blur and looked up. He saw what he thought might have been a tan-skinned woman swimming. Yet her lower body was that of a shark, and when he blinked, he was gone.


    "What is it?" asked Isamu.


    "I thought I saw something, a woman, but she had the lower body of a fish," said Sahshir.


    "One of the merfolk?" asked Urus.


    "The merfolk dwell closer to the Sea of Power and in the waters North of Harlenor," said Nagos, shaking his head. "The lizardfolk populate most of this region."


    "Then why would I see her?" asked Sahshir.


    "Perhaps you did not," mused Tuor. "We''d best hope as much. Her appearance is often an omen of coming death."


    "What did she look like?" asked Oresa, curious.


    Sahshir tried to remember and found that he had an obvious idea of what she looked like. He paused. "She had tan skin and short blonde hair and appeared to have a Harlenorian body type, like Oresa. Her mouth was covered by a mask, though. There was a blade at her side."


    "Let''s hurry up the pace a bit, then," said Nagos, shivering. "Merfolk are a bit fickle. Excuse me, Herald."


    The Herald looked back.


    "Can we move more quickly?" asked Nagos.


    The Herald nodded.


    On they went, all the faster. As they did, the ocean seemed to flow by them immensely. Sahshir sighed. "Why are you so concerned?"


    Nagos shrugged. "I heard a legend once of the Goddess of the Seas, the Shark Queen. Long ago, she joined forces with Amysta in exchange for the power to warp souls. With it, the first of the raishans were made. She and her kind patrol the ocean, looking for sailors to devour.


    "It''s said that anyone who falls into the ocean survives only because she wills it."


    "Great, so we''re running again," mused Isamu. "Remind me this, Tuor, what are we doing here?"


    "Hmm?" asked Tuor.


    "We''re trying to get the Heaven''s Eye; how will this help?" asked Isamu.


    "Once we steal the Heaven''s Eye, we will be pursued," said Tuor. "If we could find an alternate route through the seas, it would be helpful.


    "And, as long as we are here, we can perhaps smooth things over."


    "Assuming they don''t kill us as soon as we return," muttered Isamu.


    "You needn''t fear," said Tuor. "I expect the riots shall persist for some weeks. In my experience, when one situation escalates, it tends to escalate all the rest."


    "You seem calm for a man who has left a city falling into chaos," noted Sahshir. Then he glanced back to Garrick, who had been silent.


    "Chaos is a valuable tool," said Garrick.


    "Cadas, did you know what Isamu did?" asked Sahshir suddenly.


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    "...Yes," said Cadas. "Why do you ask?"


    "If this gets traced back to you, King Belosh will have to account for it," said Tuor. "You will have to take responsibility for his actions."


    "I know," said Cadas.


    "Are you willing to take that attitude to the cross?" asked Tuor.


    "...You don''t think Father would-" began Oresa.


    "He might have no choice after this," mused Tuor. "Certainly, I will not be taking your part."


    "Sahshir... can''t you do something?" asked Oresa.


    "I could," said Sahshir. "However, men ought to pay for their own mistakes."


    "You call justice a mistake?" asked Isamu.


    "If it leads to chaos in the streets of the person we are trying to negotiate with?" asked Sahshir. "And leads to the shedding of innocent blood? Yes."


    The Herald stopped. Nagos spoke with it, then turned to them. "The oceans must be closed before the way may be opened."


    And the oceans were closed.


    For a moment, all was in darkness. Then, before their eyes, another light broke through. It was green and faint, and the world looked strange and warped within its light. The ground seemed to peel back like a snake''s skin, revealing beyond a stair.


    It led down in a spiraling path, and the Herald descended.


    "Who is the Shark Queen?" asked Isamu suddenly.


    "The Fish King''s enemy and the Lady of Waves," said Nagos. "Some say she is the Queen of Death as well. She terrorized sailors in these parts before the Fish King drew her out. Now, she is returning with the coming of enlightenment.


    "Her coming is the coming of this world''s death. And the death of all plagued by life."Heading down the steps, Sahshir stopped to look at the water above. There was no water here, but there wasn''t air either. Nor was there anything. As the last member of their company passed the threshold, the entrance shut.


    They were in darkness.


    For a moment, that darkness held, and outside, they heard snarls and snaps. If indeed there was an outside within this shroud. Then, slowly, light emerged, and they were walking along a path. Around them was a vast place, what seemed a cave of roots. Yet the roots were of a strange material Sahshir had never seen. It seemed at once slippery and yet also hard.


    "Hey, Sahshir, we''re not going to meet the Fish King directly, are we?" asked Isamu, slightly worried.


    "I assume so," mused Sahshir.


    "Well, I saw him once," said Nagos. "It took me a month to recover. Looking at him might be a problem."


    "You will not gaze upon him," said Tuor.


    "Oh good, that''s a weight of my... mind..." said Isamu.


    The cave around them passed away, and they walked into a vast city street. Yet the buildings around them were vast towers. Looking up, Sahshir saw a huge ocean in the sky above them. Between the towers were huge walkways. On the bottom of those walkways were many tentacled creatures. They seemed to be city streets under them. There were also lizardfolk around them.


    "What is this place?" asked Oresa, sounding afraid.


    "We''ve passed into another dimension," said Sahshir. "The Sword of Order has fallen silent."


    The Herald led them on, and Sahshir looked to Amasara, who seemed to have taken a different form. Outwards, she was the same, but at the same time, a shadow seemed emerging from her.


    "Of course it has," said Tuor. "What you imagine in the unknown is always far grander than what it turns out to be. This dimension is a place where the unknown gathers in full."


    There were no people on the streets they walked. Yet Sahshir thought he saw windows a bit off the ground. Yet, looking into them took a lot of work. Gazing into the darkness brought to mind a shadow. Many eyes were gazing out of that blackness, but they seemed to hang from above.


    The sea above them suddenly swelled as they came to the edge of a great cliff. A vast vortex of foam swirled deeper and deeper. And from within it came something, a sort of shadow that was cast upon them. Yet this shadow seemed to have a physical form. It was more like a beast than a man, but with the wings of a dragon. Tentacles, each one as long as of the towers, looked upon them.


    "I uh," Nagos shifted. "I think I''d better do the talking here if you don''t mind." Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "By all means," said Garrick.


    "Hey, Fish King, it''s been a while, hasn''t it?" asked Nagos. "Last time we met, I nearly got my mind destroyed, but don''t worry, I''m better. How''d you like that treasure I sent down to you, by the way?"


    There was a response, and Oresa fell to her knees, screaming. Isamu clutched his eyes and fell on his face. Urus averted his gaze while Tuor made incantations.


    "Ah, right, figures it was more symbolic than useful," said Nagos. "Well, maybe you could do some decorating using it."


    "Garrick, now is your chance," said Sahshir.


    He tried to look at the Fish King and understand what he was seeing. Yet even as he seemed to grasp his nature, some other element invalidated it.


    "Hail to you, God of the Unknown," said Garrick, coming forward. "Your tendrils are infinite and exist beyond the borders of perception. I desire peace between the known and unknown."


    The Fish King spoke, and Garrick shifted. "I know what Kaba has done; he is also my enemy. However, if you rise from the depths now, it will lead to the death of far more than him."


    The Fish King spoke, and there was a guttural voice. Garrick held his ground, and his face remained impassive. However, sweat dripped down his brow. "Neither do I."


    "King Sahshir?" asked Nagos.


    The Fish King spoke to Sahshir, and he was not sure he understood what was said. Yet he could not quite make out what was said. However, he must have understood on some level because he found himself replying. "I am no empath. Those around me mean nothing to me. And yet, I still concern myself with their existence. I do so because it is my choice. One may act in another''s best interest with all their heart and yet care nothing for them."


    Garrick flinched visibly then as the Fish King looked upon him in full. His hands were shaking, and he gripped his sword. "I represent a powerful Merchant Lord named Carath Magnious. And he has an offer for you.


    "If you delay your rising, he will see that shrines are erected in your honor. Shrines that speak of the unknowable power within these depths. This will provide an excellent opportunity to push through regulation.


    "It will be far simpler to cease the persecution of your people if the threat of destruction looms. And even now, it is said that you have set your will against Sorn. That you have caused chaos by the presence of your Herald."


    The Fish King said something, but Sahshir couldn''t figure out even the tone. He wondered if they weren''t speaking into a void.


    "Simple enough," said Garrick. "I shall tell the merchants of Sorn that they have displeased you. If you are not appeased, you will rise from the ocean and destroy them. No doubt, they shall raise a shrine in response. From there, rumors shall be spread that those who dwell within Sorn have succumbed to your will.


    "This shall further elevate fear of your unknowable power that lies beyond understanding.


    "And so the foundations of your realm shall be restored."


    There was another somewhat lower whisper, and then the Fish King gazed upon Tuor. The old man looked straight at the thing, and only then did Sahshir realize he''d been averting his eyes. But Tuor looked on straight into the unknown and smiled. "Ah, and what do we want in return?


    "I mean to come back this way in something of a hurry. A swift means to reach the shores near Ruscow would greatly help."


    More whispers.


    Then, suddenly, the Fish King''s shadow entered the vortex and was gone.


    Nagos was standing in its place, and Sahshir only realized he had been standing in the shadow. His eyes were black and glassy, and he spoke. "Go.


    "The Fish King has given you his answer."


    Then his eyes returned to normal, and he fell to one knee.


    "Come, let''s leave the matter be," said Tuor.


    "Let''s get the hell out of here; this place gives me the creeps," said Isamu, picking up Oresa.


    "Not that way, Isamu," said Tuor. "The Fish King has offered to transport us to Gel Carn through the road of Ancient Stone. It will cut a significant leg off our journey."


    "The road of Ancient Stone?" asked Oresa, who looked to have been crying. "But... that place is horrible; almost no one who ventures in there ever returns."


    "I doubt there''s anything in it worse than coming back here," said Urus.


    "If we try heading north, we''ll be sighted for sure," said Tuor. "Aren has watchers in that area, and he might intercept us. This way, we can make for the Dark Land of Gel Carn unseen."


    "What about me?" asked Nagos.


    Tuor looked at Nagos, and he seemed worried for a moment. "I''m certain you could head back to the surface alongside Garrick."


    Nagos shrugged. "No, I think I''ll go with you the whole way. I''ve always wanted to see Harlenor." He glanced at the Herald of the Fish King, standing still as a stone. "Hey, can Amasara be our guide?"


    Amasara was here now, still flesh and blood, but the shadow within her was far stronger.


    "Nice," said Nagos.


    "I will return to the surface and explain the results of negotiations," said Garrick. "Farewell and good luck."


    Then, two stairways opened before them, one leading down, the other up.


    They descended and did not look back.

 Chapter 332 - Twenty-One: Messiah

    The dimension they walked now was far preferable to the realm of the Fish King. For one thing, the walls around them were more real and grounded. It was like a greenish glowing rock, and though it led down, it seemed to twist around along the path. Sahshir glanced back at one point and saw the stair was gone.


    Yet, as he walked along the floor, he found himself disoriented. Glancing back, he saw that gravity seemed to be shifting. Their group was walking in a spiral. Nagos and Amasara, directly behind him, were on the wall to the left. Further back, Isamu, Oresa, and Urus were on the ceiling, and Tuor was on the opposite wall.


    The group was walking in a spiral, constantly moving around. And the passage itself was moving upwards, then down, and so on.


    "So what''s this Road of Ancient Stone like?" asked Oresa.


    "It''s a dimension below the world''s surface," said Urus. "It extends into other dimensions. Those who walk it experience it differently each time. Once the goblins dwelled within it until Anoa the Bright exterminated them. Now it is subject to the whims of whatever demon or creature is near it.


    "We''d best go and quickly."


    "Tuor, will you lead here?" asked Sahshir suddenly.


    "Of course," said Tuor, drawing out a rope. "Stay close and tie this rope around your waist. We cannot afford to get separated."


    It took a minute or two to get the rope around everyone. For one thing, the distorted nature of the passage made it difficult to coordinate. When one person moved toward another, they shifted and bumped into one another. Eventually, they managed it by passing it into a line.


    "Now, lead on," said Sahshir.


    "That I will," said Tuor.


    Sahshir went to the rear of the group, walking alongside Oresa. Oresa, however, looked disturbed.


    "What''s wrong, Oresa?" asked Urus.


    "Well, um, I was hoping we''d get to go back to Sorn," said Oresa. "Are we sure about this?"


    "About what?" asked Sahshir.


    "Entering the Dark Land of Gel Carn?" asked Oresa. "Things have only been getting more dangerous, and now... well, we''re almost there."


    "I agree," said Cadas.


    "Oh come on, Cadas," said Isamu. "What''s the problem? We head in, snatch the Heaven''s Eye, and head out."


    "But Isamu, Gel Carn is the heart of Anoa the Bright''s power," said Oresa. "It''s said that every part of that land is awake and hunger for blood. Pandora, the Sorceress, controls the flies, and Gail Arengeth roams there.


    "What''s more, I heard...


    "I heard that the spirit of a legendary knight inhabits the castle of Gel Carn. A being who cannot be killed cannot be defeated. No one may face him and live."


    "Alright, now this sounds like a challenge worth fighting," said Isamu. "If this knight guy is invincible, that''s just because I haven''t beaten him up yet."


    "Though crudely delivered, you speak the truth," said Tuor. "Nothing is invincible. Even one without weaknesses may be drawn out into exposing themselves.


    "How do you know so much about this, Oresa?"


    "Well, um, I used to talk with travelers when they came to visit us," said Oresa. "Back when I lived in the palace, anyway. Nagos was one of them."


    Tuor nodded.


    "You are correct, Oresa," said Tuor. "Gel Carn is a dangerous place. I would never consider going to seize the Heaven''s Eye with Pandora and Arengeth present.


    "Fortunately, neither of them are there.


    "The Heir of Kings has taken her forces north to Escor. And Gel Carn is guarded only by those defenses erected by Anoa. Formidable to be sure, but then, so are we.


    "Still, I cannot see why one with your lack of martial ability needs to invite himself here, King Nagos?"


    "I''ve always wanted to see Harlenor, visit the sacred sites," said Nagos. "Since you plan to profane one of them, I figure this might be my last chance.


    "Hey, Amasara, how are we doing?"


    Amasara spoke again, and her words did not hurt as much as they did. Sahshir was able to get the general meaning. Amasara seemed to be saying that she had seen far worse.


    Even so, they spoke little as the passage led on.


    Little by little, however, the dimensions returned to normal. The rock became gray stone, moist with water. Pools of water could be seen on either side, and gravity returned to normal. Soon, a strange moss grew on the path around them. Vines were growing down from the ceiling. They had many beautiful red flowers on them that sent out waves of golden pollen now and then.


    The water now became gold with the pollen pouring into it.


    "We''ve entered the Road of Ancient Stone," said Nagos, translating Amasara''s language. "This area is inhabited by many lizardfolk, who draw on the fear of those who dare not enter. We''re approaching one of their settlements now."


    "Nagos, are you sure you should be getting to know her?" asked Oresa.


    "Hmm, what do you mean?" asked Nagos.


    "Lizardfolk survives through mystery," said Oresa. "Aren''t you endangering her health?"


    "Not really," said Nagos. "In my experience, the more you know someone, the more you realize how you don''t understand them. As long as you pay attention, every mystery you solve leads to more mysteries."


    "And what happens when you achieve enlightenment?" asked Tuor. "When you achieve total understanding of the universe and all things?"


    "You can''t," said Nagos.


    "...That''s an unexpected answer," said Tuor. "A cynical one as well. You''re a Reasonist?"


    "I think the philosophy is pretty good," said Nagos.


    "What philosophy?" asked Sahshir, who had not had much in the Reasonists.


    "Reasonists maintain that enlightenment does not exist for individuals," said Urus. "True enlightenment doesn''t exist. Every person has their view on everything that exists. Two people can have the same experiences and view them differently."


    "Your point?" asked Sahshir.


    "If you were able to fully understand all perspectives, you would cease to exist," said Nagos. "I am a pure spirit with a limited understanding of the universe in which I dwell. To exceed those limitations and gain an understanding of all things would kill me. Nagos would no longer exist, for I would be everyone and no one."


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    "In essence," said Urus. "To become truly enlightened is to cease to exist as an individual. And if you are not an individual, you do not exist.


    "Enlightenment is only useful if you are an individual. It is not worth seeking."


    "Two men became King, one by war, the other by peace," replied Sahshir. "One spent his reign fighting off enemies of his kingdom, the other building in times of peace. Both ruled wisely and well and were hailed as heroes. Both gained an understanding of the universe beyond normal men and achieved enlightenment.


    "Can you tell the difference between them?"


    "I see," said Urus. "You''re saying that the result is irrelevant in the face of what is done to get there."


    "Precisely," said Sahshir. "What you do to achieve greatness defines the greatness you achieve."


    "Well, yes, but couldn''t attaining enlightenment hurt the lizardfolk?" asked Oresa.


    "Perhaps," said Sahshir. "Or perhaps attaining enlightenment would reveal new and greater mysteries. Thereby leading to the fulfillment of their prophecy."


    "What are all these plants?" asked Cadas suddenly. "How are they growing? There is no sun in here."


    "They are unnatural," mused Tuor. "The power that sustains them comes from above in the mountains on the surface. I sense a powerful presence, one I have not felt since..."


    "What do you sense?" asked Sahshir.


    "There is power here. We should be cautious," said Tuor.


    On they went, but as they did, they seemed off their right road. The tunnels always seemed to lead away. Sahshir attempted to use the Sword of Order to determine the way, but the natural order here was weak. When he tried restoring it, he came to a yawning void and stepped back.


    It seemed this dimension was held together by will alone. The will of innumerable different beings within it and the dimensions it crossed with. Which meant there was no natural order to restrain. "Tuor, Amasara says that the road has shifted. We''re unable to go any further."


    "I see," said Sahshir. "I take it this is not a regular occurrence."


    "The vines have solidified the tunnels in a way that she does not know," said Nagos. "She can''t lead us any further."


    "Very well then," said Tuor. "You have our thanks for leading us this far. Go in peace."


    Amasara turned to walk away, then halted and looked back with pure black eyes. She spoke, and Nagos translated. "One more thing. She smells something nearby: goblins."


    "Goblins?" asked Urus. "Impossible, they were exterminated ages ago. Anoa the Bright annihilated every settlement they had. Then he connected the road to the hells to ensure none got away."


    "Nothing is impossible, Urus," said Tuor. "One should deal with what is." He looked down the passage and into the darkness. With a frown, he looked at each member and then spoke. "Let us go forward and speak to them as we may."


    Sahshir felt bad about all of this, and it only worsened.


    As they moved down the passageway, they heard the scrambling of many feet. Soon, out of the gloom came many green-skinned humanoids. They moved together in a phalanx, like those used by Harlenorians. Many spears were lowered toward them, and slingers were behind.


    At their front was one wearing a steel mask and holding a stick. "Stay where you are! We no seek battle!"


    Tuor stepped forward. "I am Tuor, Disciple of Baltoth. Who is it that stands before us?"


    "I Marzbus!" came the reply. "Grandfather lead clan through Stone Road here! We follow in Einheroth''s footsteps! Rebuild Empire!"


    "You must have been journeying for decades then," said Urus.


    "Weeks," said Marzbus. "Father die yesterday. Now I lead."


    "And you mean to reestablish the old goblin dominions then?" asked Tuor.


    "Yes," said Marzbus. "You not get in the way."


    "Far from it," said Tuor, a faint smile on his face. "Indeed, I believe we may be able to help one another. Tell me, where do your people hail from?"


    "Generations ago, the Living Einheroth came among us," said Marzbus. "He performed great wonders and healed many. He asks for one to walk among us, and Marzel is selected.


    "Together, they walked long time, and Marzel realized that our ways were wrong.


    "He return and reveal Living Einheroth''s demand we no longer eat infants. Then, when Marzel very old, he and his followers see vision. I feel Living Einheroth doing battle with Iron King and Iron King is worse. All enemies in Iron Kingdom are destroyed, and goblins free.


    "But Living Einheroth go back to Harlenor.


    "Marzel, tell followers to seek out Living Einheroth in the ancient realm of Harlenor. Lead expedition, but die before reach. Goblins seek Harlenor for generations and meet Flower Maiden."


    "The Flower Maiden?" mused Tuor. "Who is she?" Sahshir guessed it had to do with the growth in this region. Some sort of spirit or demon? Perhaps a union of both?


    "She is around us," said Marzbus. "Tendrils grow everywhere; she empowered by Laevian. Goblins spread her seeds throughout road, and plants grow. Able to eat fruits.


    "Now await the return of Living Einheroth to show us the way."


    "Can you take us to the entrance to the surface?" asked Sahshir.


    Marzbus frowned. "Surface? Why go there? Not allowed to eat infants anymore."


    "What are they saying, and how do you understand them?" asked Isamu.


    "Quiet, Isamu," said Tuor. "We are negotiating by the languages afforded to servants of gods."


    Then he looked back to Marzbus. "We desire to retrieve something that was stolen from our master. Help us to do this, and it will assuredly speed the return of the Living Einheroth."


    "What you mean?" asked Marzbus.


    "We will retrieve the Heaven''s Eye," said Tuor. "A weapon used by Anoa the Bright to drive your people from these realms long ago, before it rejected him. Once we have it, we may be able to use the power to make contact with the Living Einheroth."


    "What are you doing, Tuor?" hissed Sahshir. They had no plans to search for such a thing, and it was doubtful they could find them if they did. Sahshir had numbered days; the others here wouldn''t put the work in. And Sahshir suspected Tuor was lying.


    "And all you want is us to show you why?" asked Marzbus, who seemed to guess as much.


    "Indeed," said Tuor. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Marzbus frowned. "Very well. We seek Flower Maiden''s permission, then return."


    Then he moved off, and a tense silence began. Sahshir glared at Tuor, who met his gaze. The others said nothing, and the goblins held their spears ready.


    "What is this Flower Maiden, do you think?" asked Oresa.


    "A minor demon, perhaps some creation of Laevian. It matters little," said Tuor.


    "You were quick to make promises to the goblins. Ones that you might not be able to keep," noted Sahshir, feeling it was an understatement. He wasn''t fully prepared to call the man a liar, but it was well within what he knew of him.


    "On the contrary, we will be able to do so," said Tuor. "Both of us are of the lineage. And performing such a ritual here will draw Harlenor''s attention to this place. Covering our tracks."


    "So you lied," said Sahshir.


    "I intend to fulfill my obligations," said Tuor.


    "The letter was true," said Sahshir. "Not the spirit. This Living Einheroth may not even exist. And now you want to call down Harlenor on the last survivors of this culture."


    "What''s going on here?" asked Isamu.


    "Nothing, the goblins are deliberating over whether or not to help us," said Tuor.


    One more lie.


    At that moment, another goblin, younger with a short beard, returned. He bore a sling and bowed. "The Flower Maiden wills that you be taken to the outside. Your walking will spread her will beyond. Me to lead you."


    "And who are you?" asked Tuor.


    "Mazmus," said the goblin. "Follow."


    And they did follow. Sahshir kept alert, wondering if he was walking into an ambush, but there was no sign. Now and then, the flowers sent forth waves of pollen onto them. They walked in passages that led away from the flowers and moss and into ancient halls. Some bore the emblem of Harlenorian houses, long since dead. Others showed splintered chairs and tables that ought to have rotted away.


    This realm seemed to exist in a state of decay without end. Everything was rotted but not rotting.


    "A question, Mazmus," said Sahshir.


    "Yes?" asked Mazmus.


    "What is the name of the Living Einheroth?" asked Sahshir. If he did exist, Sahshir meant to make Tuor''s lie the truth.


    "We not know for long time," said Mazmus. "But on dying day, Marzel speak to Lucius and learns it.


    "He is William Gabriel."


    Sahshir shuddered at the name. It was as if he''d heard the name of an old friend but in the idenity of an enemy.


    "What''s wrong?" asked Tuor.


    "I have heard the name William Gabriel before," said Sahshir. "He engineered Garacel''s resistance against us in the Islands of Power. Now, these goblins declare allegiance to him."


    "I''ve met him," said Isamu. "Good warrior, amazing healer. Helped us rescue Oresa from some thugs when we were down here last. You''d like him."


    "He was very courteous and kind to me," said Oresa. "And a very good diplomat, too. Well, when he wasn''t throwing Blackguards off cliffs by the belt."


    "Don''t worry yourself needlessly," said Tuor.


    "Why not?" asked Sahshir. "He is a powerful agent of our enemy."


    "Yes, but he''s not here," said Tuor. "And his goblins are helping us. Never concern yourself about things you cannot affect. Remain calm and focused on the task, and the solution will present yourself."


    Sahshir took the words to heart.


    But they worried him nonetheless.

 Chapter 333 - Twenty-Two: The Dark Land

    A threat grew in Sahshir''s mind as they walked through the tunnels. The others seemed to feel it as well. His gaze peered this way and that as they wound their way gradually upwards. Plants were growing on either side of them now. Especially flowers opened around them, emitting pollen.


    It all put Sahshir on edge. He didn''t like being under the ground like this, led by a guide they knew little about. "Mazmus, how near are we now?"


    "Not far," said Mazmus. "We near the entrance, and soon we see the realm of Harlenorians."


    "I see," said Sahshir.


    At last, they came to the threshold, a pale and terrible light flowing through it. Sahshir now realized they stood at the bleakest and darkest part of their journey. Gel Carn stood before them, the realm of horrors beyond imagining.


    "Brace yourselves," said Sahshir. "Even now, we ascend toward the Dark Land of Gel Carn, the center of Elranor''s power. Whatever horrors we behold, we must press on. For the will of Baltoth demands, we stand committed."


    "We can handle it," said Isamu.


    "I stand resolute," said Urus.


    "We stand together against Elranor, no matter the cost," said Cadas.


    "I... I''m not turning back now," said Oresa.


    Alkela put one hand to her mace.


    "This is going to be good," said Nagos.


    Tuor smiled.


    Then they rushed beyond the light and saw in the distance Gel Carn.


    They had come out onto the slopes of a mountain; they saw a vast forest below at the base. It had healthy and bright green leaves, and the trees were tall and strong. The sun was shining down on the endless fields of green grass beyond. Among them were many thatched houses. It appeared there were many farmsteads far ahead in the distance, but they were all made near the base of a river. Castles dotted the landscape, some of them bearing banners and soldiers. Others were empty and falling into ruin.


    Beyond that river was a far green country under a beautiful sunrise.


    It was all very pretty.


    Sahshir could not help but feel somewhat insulted. Nagos was snickering. "Have your laugh."


    "Sorry, I couldn''t help myself," said Nagos. "You were all getting so worked up."


    "...Um, are you sure this is Gel Carn?" asked Oresa.


    "Yes, yes, castle far north over the big river," said Mazmus. "Travel hard, though. Watch out for ghosts." And he walked off.


    "Ghosts?" asked Sahshir.


    But Mazmus was gone. He''d scuttled off into the dark without a world.


    "Look at this..." mused Urus. "Have you ever seen so much green?"


    "This place is beautiful," said Oresa.


    "Stay where you are," said Sahshir. "I will meditate and sense for signs of our enemy." Then he sat down crosslegged and scanned the land. It quickly became apparent that the spirits of this place were strong, very strong. They managed everything in this place and paid no heed to any god or demon.


    Opening his eyes, he looked up. "...The spirits of this land are powerful. They have far more influence than in Sorn or Kalthak. We must be cautious as we press forward.


    "Come, let''s get off these hills.


    "I do not want to be seen here."


    "I will lead here," said Tuor. "It has been... many years since last I walked here. It has changed greatly. Come, let us go."


    And he began to walk down.


    "What was it like when last you saw it?" asked Oresa.


    "All this..." Tuor paused as they reached the trees. "All this was ashes and dust. Anoa the Bright''s brutality had scoured the land, seemingly permanently. These rolling plains were once considered great forests, but they set their will against Anoa. And so Anoa destroyed them, setting them flame and killing all within.


    "I remembered when there were horses in these lands."


    "Horses?" asked Isamu. "Those legendary beasts?"


    "Yes," said Tuor. "They shared an unbreakable bond with the elves and fought for them in the wars. And they would bear no other race. With them, the elves could dominate the world and keep humanity chained.


    "Anoa commanded they submit to him. But they stayed true and helped the elves in war."


    "So Anoa had his men hunt horses to eat," said Sahshir. "What they could not eat, they left for the vultures."


    "Why would he do something so horrible?" asked Oresa.


    "In those days, the elves had set the world itself against humanity," said Tuor. "Humans were only permitted to have a certain ration of water or fruit. When a spirit became angry with them, they had no recourse save for begging.


    "They were persecuted wherever they went, forced to grovel. The punishments could be extreme if a human hurt an elf or a spirit. In one situation, an entire village was depopulated because of a stolen ring.


    "High King Anasar of the elves chided the Lord responsible for the response.


    "As the world had declared war on Anoa, Anoa declared war on the world. He razed forests to send a message and allied with the forest fires. Without mercy or pity, he killed any species that sided with the elves. And he was very fond of fire.


    "When I was born to one of his mistresses, this entire region was being torched. I used to play in the woods when I was very young. Then, one of the spirits helped an elf escape the hunting parties. Anoa found out and torched the whole thing.


    "He only stopped when Laevian started sending plagues." Tuor sighed as he set a hand to a tree and breathed out. "...It is good to see this land returning to health."


    "Why would anyone follow him?" asked Oresa.


    "When men are desperate, they will take a monster instead of a tyrant," said Tuor. "And Anoa was a genius as well as a monster. He also knew enough to establish the systems Harlenor has used to this day.


    "The whole thing rests on a tripod of sorts. The King is at the top with his forces, but the nobles can overthrow him if he behaves badly. So he is reliant on them. At the same time, the militia system ensures that the common people all know to fight in ranks. So if the nobles ever become too oppressive, the militia may declare for the King and fight them. And, of course, the King and the nobles may divide and conquer the common people to defend their rights.


    "But that would mean Harlenor would be fighting with one another all the time," said Oresa.


    "More or less, yes," said Tuor. "Anoa wanted a warrior culture that would never succumb to the corruption he saw in the elves. And he more or less got exactly that. Still, the system benefits from ensuring no one tyrant can ever rule for long.


    "You''d never catch a Dinisian Emperor ruling in Harlenor. He''d be speared before the crown was on his head. Except perhaps, in Antion these days. Though as long as Andoa II still lives, that is a moot point.


    "But, in truth, the constant brutality and warfare is precisely why I went over to Baltoth. His ideals of perfect order appealed to me. Meanwhile, Arengeth was content to make polite suggestions and arrange marriage alliances. But he left the core problems remain unsolved.


    "Come, let us move on. We have a long way to go."


    It soon became apparent that the empty lands ahead of them were immense. They went through vast numbers of trees. Sometimes, they''d come out into clearings. He found fields of flowing, golden grass and serene pools. They drank of these and were refreshed. The air around them was clean and cool, as well.


    "Where is everyone?" asked Urus. "These lands are beautiful and fertile. Why does no one dwell here? I would have expected to see some felled trees, at least."


    "Gel Carn was once the center of power for Harlenor United," said Tuor. "However, when Anoa IX was killed in an ambush by Baltoth, Harlenor fractured. Many great lords fought to carve out their kingdoms. And Gel Carn was a prize they desired, for they thought it would give them legitimacy.


    "Armies marched, burning and plundering. One would be King Lord Asion Muldus, who made infernal bargains and used armies of demons. Unending war tore this land apart, and the people fled or died.


    "None, in the end, were victorious. I saw to that myself."


    "Why?" asked Oresa. "I thought you wanted to avoid pointless wars."


    "It was my goal to weaken the various lords to ensure Baltoth''s conquest of this land went well," said Tuor. "Because of my actions, Artarq was subjugated, and the elves of Qor''Dana were hard to resist. But, in the end, it changed nothing.


    "Our invasion of Harlenor was repelled.


    "Gel Carn was left in ruins with only a shadow of what it once was. Plants and people have only recently returned to this land. And they are few and far between, herding and farming as best they can."


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    They passed out of those forests and into the long grass soon enough. As they did, Sahshir looked up and saw vast, rolling clouds. A wind howled through his cloak, and it was a sharp one. "The clouds are gathering, and the wind is coming toward us."


    "We will need to find somewhere to rest," said Tuor. "We''ll make for that castle up ahead."


    The castle in question was a truly huge one. The walls were immense, higher than anything Sahshir had seen. Even Zigilus had not been so tall. The stones were dark gray, and many arrow slits were pointing out. The gatehouse was on a rampage of stone, and the doors had long ago rotted away. Yet there was something... evil about it.


    Sahshir couldn''t pinpoint exactly why he disliked the fortress.


    "What is this place?" asked Isamu as they neared. "Was this where that Lord Asion guy lived?"


    "Actually, yes," said Tuor. "This is Castle Muldus, where the demons were first summoned as the siege was laid to Asion''s castle. A powerful Warlock, Muldus opened a portal to the hells to bring in the armies of Adrianeth, Lord of Pride."


    "But Baltoth is the Lord of Pride," said Oresa.


    "In effect, yes," said Tuor. "In technicality, no. He had to set the mantle down to become Lord of Order formally. So Adrianeth, his greatest warrior, holds the title of a subordinate. And Adrianeth sought to claim Gel Carn, sending forth his legions.


    "I remember the screams of Asion''s wife as she was carried through the portal. The sight of the beasts surging through to consume the world. It was a spectacular battle, and the Knights of Harlenor fought with great valor. Yet they were forced to withdraw and drawback."


    "Why would these stones be left standing?" asked Urus. "Surely, the peasants would want to take these stones for building material."


    "There are demons still here," said Tuor. "You just cannot see them."


    And then, as they passed the gates, Sahshir looked with his spiritual sight. Gazing deeply, he saw figures just beyond the veil of reality. They were many, and appeared as armored figures.


    Yet they were not on this physical plane. "I sense them near."


    "Then let us go to meet them," said Tuor. "If Adrianeth still maintains his power, we may gain his assistance in what comes next."


    "Why should we need the aid of demons?" asked Urus.


    "A just question," said Sahshir.


    "They are demons who serve Baltoth," said Tuor. "You, of all men, should appreciate such efforts."


    "I serve Baltoth because it is my purpose," said Sahshir. "I have chosen to live my life in his name. Demons, however, only serve him because of what they may get out of it. And I am not certain this Adrianeth doesn''t plot his overthrow even now."


    "And what brings you to that conclusion?" asked Tuor.


    "They are demons," said Sahshir flatly.


    Tuor paused, considered that, and laughed. "Excellent reasoning, son."


    Sahshir almost replied harshly, but Alkela drew her mace and tested the weight. Oresa looked at her in concern. "Alkela, what''s wrong?"


    "Zigildrazia and Adrianeth were never fond of one another," said Tuor. "Adrianeth claimed credit for one of her inventions that he commissioned her to make. In turn, Zigildrazia challenged him to single combat and defeated him. Adrianeth prides himself on martial power. And he regarded the domain of sloth with contempt.


    "Smarting from the humiliation, Adrianeth took to kidnapping Zigildrazia''s handmaidens. It took Baltoth''s mediation to end the dispute, and the two have bitter hatred for the other since. Or at least Adrianeth holds Zigildrazia in bitter hatred; she seemed to enjoy the feud."


    "How did Baltoth get them to stop fighting?" asked Nagos.


    "Baltoth had Adrianeth assist Zigildrazia in overthrowing Amysta," said Tuor. "In weregild for his stolen handmaidens. Though I believe he got to keep those he had kidnapped anyway.


    "His forces were of great assistance."


    Then they halted. The passage Tuor had taken them by had collapsed long ago, and only stone was in the way. With a sigh, Tuor led them another way. These halls were devoid of adornment, yet Sahshir seemed to see banners.


    It was like they were walking in two different castles at once. One was broken and destroyed, with the stones falling out of place. The other was adorned with rich tapestries. They showed many armored figures marching to battle. One was lit only by what light got through the windows, the other by blazing torches.


    "Why are all these tapestries showing armored figures?" asked Oresa. "Where are the demons?"


    "Pride demons appear in human form," said Tuor. "But with their humanity obscured. Baltoth always preferred them to be in the form of lions and tigers. However, Adrianeth has different preferences."


    So, the others were aware of it. Or at least Oresa was; the others seemed to share a confused glance. It was odd; the two castles seemed to bleed over into one another. Sahshir could see fine wherever the torches were, even in the lesser ones. Perhaps one was becoming more real as they ventured deeper.


    Cadas glanced back as something moved.


    "What is it, Cadas?" asked Oresa.


    "I thought I saw something," said Cadas.


    "Isamu, Urus, act as a rearguard," said Sahshir. "Cadas, Oresa, bring up the middle. Alkela, you are with me. Tuor, do as you like."


    They went on, scaling a great set of stairs. As they did, one of the flagstones came loose, and Oresa fell backward. Urus moved forward and caught her.


    "Thank you, I..." said Oresa. "I guess I wasn''t paying attention."


    And, at last, they came out of the steps and into a room with a balcony. And beyond that balcony, they saw their first sight of Gel Carn. It was the fairest castle Sahshir had ever seen, with spiraling white towers. And yet, it was also the most menacing. As he came to the edge and looked at it, he really looked at it. He saw a nemesis¡ªthe heart of the enemy that had fought Baltoth to a standstill for ages.


    Anoa did not dwell there now, but he will live on. His seething contempt for life and dark thoughts had permeated this land. All the raids and destruction that had so long harmed Calishan soil could be traced back to him. That cursed and violent animal whose spawn was destined to end Baltoth.


    No, it would not happen.


    Sahshir would not allow this wraith in the form of a knight to triumph. Not while he still drew breath. Calisha would prevail.


    "...It''s quite a sight, isn''t it," said Tuor.


    "What is that?" asked Oresa.


    "That is Gel Carn," said Sahshir.


    "But it''s beautiful..." said Oresa.


    "It appears that way at first glance to some but changes by the one who gazes at it," said Tuor. "Come, the throne room is beyond that door over there."


    "What''s the hurry?" asked Isamu.


    "We are expected," said Tuor.


    They entered the throne room, and the two castles merged. Here was a room filled with a red light. Great raging infernos burned in sphere form, hanging from the ceiling. Dozens upon dozens of armored figures stood, silent and proud. They bore massive swords and nothing of -their faces could be seen within. And at the far end was Adrianeth.


    He sat on a black throne, wearing black armor. But his helmet was off. His hair was blue and seemed more like spines than strands, standing upright in a mane. A jagged smile was on his face, and his eyes held within them a certain madness.


    "Tuor, you''re here at last. Are these them?" asked Adrianeth.


    "Yes, Lord Adrianeth, these are the ones I spoke of," said Tuor. "I take it Melchious spoke to you of each in turn."


    "Yes, he did," said Adrianeth, eyeing Oresa with a feral hunger. "He was very descriptive of some.


    "Once you have seized the Heaven''s Eye, I shall provide you whatever cover you require. Tell me, did you tell your puppets what they will face."


    "Careful what you say, demon," said Sahshir. "I am King Sahshir of Kalthak; insult my nation at your peril."


    "I''ll say as I wish," said Adrianeth, smiling wider. "Do you know what awaits you in Gel Carn, boy? Orson himself is in that place."


    "Who is Orson?" asked Isamu.


    "The greatest knight of Gel Carn," said Sahshir. "He was killed by Anoa the Bright in retribution for an affair with Queen Gwendoven."


    "You know your history," said Adrianeth. "More than those within this place, to be sure.


    "His spirit resides in Gel Carn, and any who would seek to take the Heaven''s Eye must face him. So I''ll bet every one of you will be killed before you ever touch that gem.


    "Still, for now, I offer you my hospitality.


    "For what it is worth."


    Sahshir liked this mission less and less. He shared a glance with Isamu, and both knew exactly what the other was thinking. It was time for Tuor to answer some questions whether he wanted to or not.


    The room they had been led to was very luxurious. Huge, comfortable beds and a window looking out over the fields. There were ornate carpets and a tapestry on the wall. It showed the image of a vast whirlpool with many spires rising out of it.


    Then, Tuor was slammed against it by Isamu, who gripped him by the throat. Sahshir was surprised at how angry he looked. "Alright, Tuor. Start talking."


    "About what?" asked Tuor, quite calm.


    "You want to tell us why you''ve been cutting deals with Melchious, the God of Sadism and Torturers," said Isamu. "I''ve seen the bastard''s handiwork. I don''t like working with him, especially without knowing it."


    "If you want to make arrangements with a member of the hells, you go through Melchious," said Tuor, forcing him off. "Some call him the Eighth Demonic Archon.


    "For my part, I think it would be more accurate to refer to him as the Demonic Middleman. He has worked for every power among them at some point and is immensely influential."


    "Adrianeth is Baltoth''s subordinate. We need no middleman," noted Sahshir. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "True," conceded Tuor. "But Adrianeth has become... rebellious. And so I have taken this indirect route, hoping he will perceive me as of like mind. In doing so, I may get a hint of his plans."


    "Sure you are," scoffed Isamu. "This quest is getting shadier all the time."


    "Calm yourself, Isamu," said Sahshir.


    "And stop telling me to calm myself!" snapped Isamu. "This mission stinks to high heaven, and I''ll say as much whether you want me to!"


    "What are you proposing as an alternative?" asked Isamu. "To turn back now in the face of Gel Carn, with the quest undone? That would be a waste of all our efforts."


    "He''s right, Isamu," said Urus. "It''s too late to go back, whatever we think."


    "And anyway, Tuor is the Disciple of Baltoth. We should trust him," said Oresa.


    "It is written:" said Sahshir flatly. "Trust not the man with power until you have seen his deeds."


    "Who cares?" asked Isamu in turn.


    "They are the holy texts of Baltoth and hold the world''s wisdom," replied Sahshir, annoyed.


    "So, nobody, then," said Isamu. "It''s not my world his wisdom applies to; I''ll tell you that."


    Sahshir''s hand went to his sword immediately, but Tuor caught it. "Sahshir, might I suggest we not bring this to violence so close to victory?


    "You two may settle your grievance once the matter is concluded."


    "What does Adrianeth get out of this," said Urus.


    "Hmm?" said Tuor.


    "How does he gain?" asked Urus. "I know he serves Baltoth, but as a demon, I doubt it is out of true devotion."


    "You are correct, Urus," said Tuor. "Adrianeth has great power in this region. His reach extends throughout all the empty lands of Gel Carn. However, he cannot use that power.


    "The Heaven''s Eye emits a massive aura. It purifies demonic energy into spiritual energy. That is why the land here has recovered so well. So long as it remains, Adrianeth is limited only to his strong points.


    "Once we have the Eye, he shall be able to muster his power and bring forth an army in this place once more."


    "But what about the people?" asked Oresa.


    "What of them?" asked Tuor. "They are our enemies, and a second front here is to our advantage."


    "They''re still people," said Oresa. "It is written:


    "''Kick not your enemies when they are down. Help them stand.''"


    "You quote in error," said Sahshir, "the phrase is:


    "''Kick not your enemy when he is down. Kill them, or help them stand.''


    "The verse is a warning against needless cruelty. When you have humbled an opponent, you should integrate their strength into your own. Or failing that, wipe them out so they can never be a threat to you again.


    "Only fools deal in cruel mercy."


    "And what about my father?" asked Isamu flatly, resentful.


    "Rammas serves his purpose by keeping the domain of Hope out of our enemy''s hands," said Sahshir. "I am certain Baltoth has other uses for him."


    "You-" snarled Isamu.


    "Enough!" said Tuor. "Adrianeth will be long delayed in whatever he does. The theft of the Heaven''s Eye will be only a long-term benefit. For now, we will rest and press on tomorrow over the fields. It will take some days to reach the inhabited territory.


    "And we must be ready to move swiftly."


    Sahshir looked to Isamu, then Tuor. He liked this mission less by the minute but meant to see it through. "As you wish."


    There would be a time and a place for answers. Sahshir just prayed he wasn''t making a serious mistake.

 Chapter 334 - Twenty-Three: Formalities

    They set out from Adrianeth''s castle that day.


    Sahshir was not sad to leave the place behind and was pleased that Adrianeth did not see them off. He was in no mood to exchange pleasantries with a demon. Unfortunately, it was the last roof they would have over their heads in the coming days.


    The company, led by Tuor, moved by night and rested in secret places. When they saw roads, they stayed off them. Occasionally they saw merchants on ox carts or knights walking on quests. These they avoided completely, though Nagos seemed to want to speak with them. The river, meanwhile, got closer by the day. Often, Sahshir would see ships passing along it, merchant ships for the most part.


    Now and then, rainstorms would come in and shower them, making the journey miserable. But on they plodded nonetheless.


    "Doesn''t this wilderness ever end?" muttered Nagos. "We haven''t talked to anyone outside our group in a week."


    "Perhaps not," said Tuor. "But it will only become harder once we reach the shore. I have a man waiting to take us across the river, but that is where we will most likely be seen."


    "I presume you have some plan for this journey stage," said Sahshir.


    "You are correct, Sahshir," said Tuor. "There are certain rituals that may disguise us. Much of what people see when they look at someone is based on their perception, not on any inherent truth. There are certain rituals by which I may allow us to slip beneath notice.


    "To the casual eye, we shall appear ordinary travelers.


    "In a longer conversation, however, we may have a problem."


    "Nagos will do the talking here," said Sahshir. "Should any need doing?"


    "I think perhaps I ought to," mused Tuor. "I have passed as a Harlenorian before, and I once was one."


    "No, no, I should," said Oresa.


    "Oresa?" asked Sahshir.


    "My mother was a Harlenorian," said Oresa. "So, I look the part better than anyone."


    "Do you believe you''ll be able to keep up the act?" asked Sahshir.


    "Well, um..." Oresa paused. "I could put across being very ineffectual and weak-willed. And Nagos could be my companion who keeps me out of trouble."


    "That sounds like a fairly good idea to me," said Nagos. "It means I can be a foreigner in command while there being a good reason for it."


    Then Sahshir noticed another castle some ways off. Before him, Sahshir saw another castle. It was black and stood tall with spikes for crenelations. It was abandoned, just like Adrianeth''s, but the land around it was barren and desolate. "...That castle over there, what is it?"


    "That is the castle of Dolores Gable," said Tuor, "though it was once called Joyous Gable. Once, it was the abode of Sir Orson the Valiant, the greatest Knight of Harlenor. He was the meekest man to stand in the hall among ladies, yet the sternest warrior to ever stand in a line of battle.


    "It''s said that he tamed a horse and rode it into battle, though none know what became of it.


    "Before him, the castle was the abode of a cruel Elven Lord named Avasast. He was friends with a dragon and forced the humans here to sacrifice their fairest maidens to the dragon. And often, he would go out to the quarries, forcing his men to work and firing arrows at them for sport.


    "Then, one day, Orson faced him.


    "He carried only a sling and was only a boy of twelve. But he challenged Avasast to single combat. Laughing, the Lord dismounted and drew his sword to cut the child''s head off. But Orson cast his stone and smote him on the forehead. The elf had not donned his helmet and fell senselessly to the ground.


    "Snatching up his enemy''s sword, Orson struck swiftly and cut his head from his shoulders. Then he turned to fight the elf''s guards, but another boy came to his aid, pulling him away. That boy was Anoa the Bright, and together they had many adventures.


    "Anoa was farsighted and ruthless, but Orson was noble and brave. And together, they founded the Kingdom that would one day become Harlenor."


    "What happened to him?" asked Oresa.


    "Anoa married a girl named Gwendoven," said Tuor, "a beautiful girl with the blood of fairies within her. It is said that he saw her walking upon a crystal lake. It was near the heights of the Black Mountain. Loving her at once, he performed many great deeds in her honor and married her.


    "Yet her heart belonged to Orson.


    "Eventually, Anoa heard of an affair between the two of them. Disbelieving it, he nevertheless set a trap for them. Catching them in the act, he drew his sword to kill them. But Orson snatched up a sword and fought free, escaping with Gwendoven to this castle.


    "But they had called down the wrath of Anoa.


    "And Anoa''s wrath is a curse. Once set upon someone, none may survive it. Or so it is said, for his spirit shall dog their steps until utter ruin is upon them.


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    "And yet Orson had such power and majesty that he could forestall Anoa''s wrath.


    "And so it was that Anoa called upon Fortenex and Zigildrazia for aid. Zigildrazia forged for him such a suit of armor as has never been seen since. And Fortenex blessed his warriors with an unquenchable thirst. In repayment for this debt, the castle was laid to waste; every village was destroyed around it. All the people and animals were put to the sword. All their valuables were burned.


    "At last, Anoa faced Orson right there upon the tower.


    "They fought one another in single combat, Gwendoven behind him.


    "Orson fell, and Gwendoven died moments later.


    "But Anoa was not content with death for his enemies. And so he sealed Orson''s soul and bound it for eternity. And it is said that Orson''s ghost still haunts some ancient land, guarding in death the domain of his master."


    "Gel Carn," mused Sahshir.


    "Yes," said Tuor. "I saw it myself from just here. Though I was a young child, and Arengeth was already old." sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What part did Arengeth play?" said Isamu.


    "None," said Tuor. "His duties often took him far afield. When he heard of events, he came at once. But he arrived only in time to see the utter ruin of Orson."


    "How old were you?" asked Oresa.


    "I was eleven years old," replied Tuor, "the bastard son of King Anoa the Bright. He had many mistresses, though I am told he loved Gwendoven dearly."


    "But he killed her," said Orson.


    "Love and hatred are close relations," said Sahshir. "One can become the other very easily. It takes only a betrayal.


    "And Anoa was never a happy man.


    "Come, we are near the river. Once we reach the settlements, we''ll cross over and head for our goal."


    The spell Tuor cast was simple, and it was done using the Sword of Order. As they approached the river settlements, they moved through. Around them were many rough-looking people. Most did not give any of the travelers a second glance, and they seemed to pass unnoticed easily. They saw a militia drilling with spears and shields to one side. As they neared the river, Sahshir was surprised at how clear it was.


    When they got to the pier, they found a man with a long, black beard sitting by a large boat. The man glanced up and stood with a start, snatching up a spear. "Hold up, you lot there. Don''t go a step further till I have a better look at you?"


    "I assure you, Captain, we mean no harm," said Oresa, slowing to a halt. Her voice was strange now.


    "Plenty of folks say they mean no harm," said the man. "Not many of them come out of the Dead South these days. You from one of the villages in that region? I''d thought for sure they wouldn''t last."


    "We are from Sorn," said Sahshir before he remembered Nagos was meant to be doing the talking.


    The man frowned. "You don''t mean...


    "Elranor above, you came through the Road of Ancient Stone?"


    "Indeed we did," said Sahshir.


    "Well then, you must be mighty fine warriors," said the man. "Or liars with a terrible sense of direction and not sense enough to stay on the path. Either is no concern of mine; you aren''t demons either way."


    "You have problems with demons?" asked Oresa.


    "Now and then, young las, now and then," said the man. "Though they''re usually a much weaker kind or in a human shell. The only way they can get close to these parts is to spy. We can thank Lord Elranor for that.


    "Who among you is the leader?"


    "Um, I am, actually," said Oresa. "Though Nagos is my advisor."


    "Which one of you is that?" asked the man.


    Nagos came in from where he''d been speaking with someone else. "That would be me; it''s great to meet you. Sorry if Oresa''s guards are a bit defensive; we''ve had some near calls. Is that the ferry over there?"


    "That it is, young man," said the man. Then he frowned. "Nagos, I swear I heard that name somewhere before. Ah yes, Nagos, King of the Seas, was it."


    "It''s a common name," said Nagos. "I''ve got the luck to share it. Everywhere I go, people wonder if I am King Nagos in disguise.


    "Who are those men drilling?"


    "They''re the border watch," said the man. "Few folks like to dwell beyond the river; Adrianeth''s demons come out at night. Still, with all the land being taken beyond, some brave souls have tried for colonies on the other side.


    "Nothing attacks them outright, of course. But it can''t be denied that some bad luck follows them as they try to make a living out here. A few knights tried to journey up to Dolores Carn a ways back, but none returned.


    "Some say the spirit of Sir Orson haunts it still."


    "Sir Orson?" asked Nagos.


    Sahshir wondered if he had not been paying attention. Or was he merely looking for the man''s perspective?


    "A damned rebel, the first and worst of the lot," said the man. "Seduced Anoa the Bright''s wife and raised banners against him. Made all kinds of deals with infernal demons to try and stop the King''s justice. But in the end, the demons came to collect their due and devoured his whole land.


    "If it hadn''t been for him, Baltoth never should have had the chance to kill Anoa IX. We have taken Seathorius without that civil war.


    "But, all that''s being set to rights now. A new Heir of Kings has drawn Lightning Trail from the sky. She''s already brought peace to Gel Carn. And the word is that House Gabriel has secured Artarq and Seathorius.


    "Mark my words, the Dark Lord''s days are numbered at this rate."


    "Do you think we could meet this Heir of Kings?" asked Nagos.


    "Well, I hear tell she''s gone out to set Escor to rights as well," said the man. "Went with Gabriels, De Chevlons and Vortegexs too. So you still need to take your chance.


    "Still, there is the shrine to the Heaven''s Eye. The gem is well guarded, but its radiance flows into the shrine. I may live to see her take it up; now that''s unexpected."


    "Can you take us across the river?" asked Nagos.


    "Of course," said the man. "So long as you have the money for the ferry, we''ll not quarrel.


    The name''s Captain Trevor, by the way."


    The trip over the river was a swift one. As they landed, Oresa seemed troubled. "These people regard Anoa as a hero and Baltoth as a Dark Lord."


    "Of course they do," said Tuor. "They have been trained to do so since birth. To question their nature would invite doubt into everything they believe."


    "But how do we know there isn''t truth to what they are saying?" asked Urus, though the question seemed more out of principle.


    "It does not matter," said Tuor. "Our interests and theirs are mutually exclusive. Even if we learned we were in the wrong by some miraculous chance, we would still act the same. Ideals are a means of justification. Nothing more."


    "No, they aren''t," said Sahshir flatly. "Your ideals aren''t what you believe. Your ideals are what you do. Everything you do is in service to one cause or another. Your desires and feelings are irrelevant in the face of your actions."


    "Can we please save the philosophy for later?" asked Isamu.


    "I dunno, I find them interesting," said Nagos.


    "You?" asked Isamu. "The kid raised by pirates."


    "I''m the same age as Sahshir," said Nagos, "and in case you haven''t noticed, I''m the most feared pirate in history."


    "History isn''t over yet," muttered Isamu.


    "If you think about it, history ends with every moment," noted Oresa.


    "Not really," said Nagos. "The Books of Namina tells us that time is already complete. But we who are within it can only perceive part of it at any time. As we move, what we can see before and after changes.


    "It''s like if you are raising a torch to a wall. And the light only reaches part of it.


    "Eventually, though, the light goes out, and you must make a new one.


    "That''s what death is.


    "Swapping out the torch."


    "Who cares?" asked Isamu.


    "People other than you," snapped Tuor, who was nearly as sick of Isamu as Sahshir. "We''ll head down the path out of sight, then turn aside into the wilderness. Once we have arrived, we will have to discuss the details of our plans."

 Chapter 335 - Twenty-Four: The Heavens Eye

    The wilderness passed them with surprising speed. The Wolven Forest was a dark place of dense foliage and many gleaming eyes in darkness. They heard the sound of howling wolves, but nothing barred their way or sought to attack them. When Sahshir sensed them, the spirits did not even know they were there.


    Tuor had cast a spell that helped them slip beneath the notice of spirits, or so he said. It involved several runes, which he meditated on now and then. But no one felt like talking, and they had one or two close run-ins with the woodsmen. They saw them dressed in gray and moving through the trees like shadows. But they should have noticed Tuor.


    Even so, a shadow was growing on their minds. Isamu, in particular, was restless, often pacing this way and that in camp. Oresa spent her time knitting repairs to clothes, though Sahshir handled his own. Urus meditated while Cadas just sat on a stump and thought.


    "Now, once we get the Heaven''s Eye, how do we escape?" asked Isamu.


    "An escape by land will be useless to us," said Tuor. "Fortunately, I''ve made arrangements with Adrianeth. He has contacts with certain cults in Seathorius, referred to by some as the Dark Nakmar. They worship the Demonic Archons rather than Baltoth of the Dreaming Goddess."


    "And they are helping us?" asked Urus.


    "Yes, a vessel is coming down even now," said Tuor. "Adrianeth has given me the meeting place, and once we get there, we will board it."


    "What makes you think they won''t take the Eye for themselves?" asked Isamu.


    "Demons cannot abide the Heaven''s Eye," said Tuor. "No doubt its very presence shall pain them. And they would be incapable of using it anyway. Moreover, the Demonic Archons stand to gain by the defeat of the Heir of Kings, do they not."


    "Of course," said Isamu.


    "Then they benefit from our presence," said Tuor. "Baltoth is a far more reasonable actor than a potential heir of Anoa the Bright."


    "Demons are not reasonable," said Sahshir, liking this all less with every day. "Night is coming on."


    "Good," said Tuor. "Then we''ll rest when we get there. In the morning, we''ll make our plans."


    Sahshir, for his part, was altogether sick of this mission. He wanted to be back home, where he could make real changes. Tuor had grand designs, but Sahshir began to suspect they would not have much effect. He told himself that the possibility of being healed would be worth the risk.


    Still, he now regarded this quest as a chore. Far less dangerous than his other missions. Dearly, he wanted to return home to Kalthak, speak with Narcissa, and mind his own home and affairs. If he could tend to his wounds, so be it.


    It was almost anticlimactic when they finally came out of the forests and into sight of Gel Carn. The fortress seemed far more ordinary. Seeing the villages near it only detracted from the menace.


    "At last," said Tuor. "Gel Carn."


    "The fortress... it''s different," said Oresa thoughtfully.


    "What do you mean?" asked Nagos.


    "Before, it was dark and horrible," said Oresa, "but now it seems to have shifted to become a little more normal."


    "That was part of the enchantment put on it by Gwendoven," said Tuor. "Gel Carn shifts in appearance based on the thoughts of the one who looks at it.


    "However, the illusion fades as you gaze at it more."


    They spent the night there, resting beneath the stars. It was cold here, far colder than Kalthak, paining Sahshir''s body. He felt old and bitter and went to sleep as soon as possible.


    The next morning, he approached Nagos and Oresa. "Nagos, Oresa, head down there and scout the place out. Take your time, look around, and learn about the place. Find where they keep the Eye if you can.


    "We won''t go down until you return."


    "There''s no need for that," said Tuor. "I know the aura it radiates and can lead us-" S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sahshir raised a hand for silence and looked to Nagos, who was stretching. "Hmm, sounds good to me. I don''t mind looking around," said Nagos.


    "Why am I going?" asked Oresa.


    Sahshir had already had this discussion and didn''t want to have it again. "Humor me."


    And so they went off. No doubt, Nagos would find some way to use her as a prop in his approach. Isamu seemed a bit shaken, though. "Are you sure about sending Nagos down there?"


    "Quite sure," said Sahshir. "He''s the best at fast-talking, and since he''s not Calishan, he''ll be the least at risk if he is discovered."


    "What if he betrays us?" asked Urus.


    Sahshir looked at Urus, feeling insulted by the idea.


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    "...It''s a relevant question," said Urus.


    "I won''t even dignify that with a response," said Sahshir.


    Nagos was above suspicion.


    They waited on the eaves of the forest, and Sahshir looked around them. The woods here had an earthy scent, and moss covered the ground. The trees rose high to create a ceiling of branches, and birds were chirping.


    It was, actually, somewhat beautiful.


    Eventually, Nagos returned with Oresa, speaking with her cheerfully as they neared. Oresa laughed at something they said as Nagos came back. "Well, we''re here. Oresa was helpful. Though we had to stop to heal some sick people."


    "What news, Nagos?" asked Sahshir.


    Nagos drew out a scroll and handed it to Sahshir. "Well, I''ve got a map of the keep. It took a bit of doing to get in, but most of the guards are out somewhere, from the looks of things. Still, the Heaven''s Eye is kept in the chapel here.


    "Steward Benarus is gone, though; he''s negotiating with some lords. A Lord Anias Cuhlhorn was killed. Now, Benarus is deciding who should inherit. A large part of the soldiers went with him, and many of them were gone for the wars anyway."


    "Then we have timed our mission well," said Tuor, smiling.


    "So, what''s the plan now?" asked Isamu, looking at Tuor.


    "Now?" asked Tuor. "We will wait for night. Then Isamu, you, Sahshir, and I will retrieve the Eye."


    "What about us?" asked Cadas.


    "You will each remain here and await us," said Tuor. "I know my way through the palace. More than us, it will be challenging to enter unseen.


    "Stay hidden, and do not come after us.


    "We''ll meet you back here."


    "What if you are discovered?" asked Urus.


    "You''ll know what to do by the shaking," said Tuor.


    Alkela did not look up from polishing her mace. Feeling Sahshir''s gaze on her, she glanced up, tossed the weapon into the air, and then caught it by the haft. Finally, she shrugged.


    The day wore on, and Nagos made several other trips down to other places. Yet the silence, the lack of action, was eerie. Sahshir would have expected Elranor to have sent someone or something to oppose them.


    Yet it was as though Elranor was letting them just walk in.


    Had Elranor wholly overlooked them? Or was seizing the Heaven''s Eye part of some greater scheme? Tuor, Isamu, and Sahshir stood by, and Sahshir wondered why he''d chosen Isamu. There was some angle or purpose at work here that Sahshir did not understand. There was a suspicion growing in his mind.


    What was Tuor playing at?


    Was he truly acting as the Disciple of Baltoth? Or was this his agenda? And if it was, was he working for Elranor? Or perhaps merely working with him. Sahshir could certainly see Tuor turning on Baltoth. His ideology did not prize loyalty. And Tuor was a potential Heir of Kings.


    So was Sahshir.


    But then, why this mission? What did he gain by it?


    Night fell, and the three of them descended toward the walls. Coming to the walls, they saw a man patrolling. Sahshir hurled a rope and grapple and scaled up in moments. Even as the man turned around, Sahshir slashed with his ghost blade. The man fell, and Sahshir caught him before lowering him silently to the ground.


    As the others came up, they made their way down the steps. "Don''t take any lives without need. The more bodies we spill over the flagstones, the more difficult our task will become."


    "Right, nice to know things are getting even more difficult," said Isamu.


    Moving through the castle seemed almost empty¡ªTuor brought them through the halls. They were all white-walled and well-maintained, with fine tapestries. Several times, Sahshir saw libraries. Finally, they came into a chapel. There, on an altar, stood a rainbow stone. Many seats were set before it, and a statue of Elranor stood. The stone radiated a sort of warmth and sent forth a will. Sahshir reached out for it.


    "It''s beautiful," said Sahshir.


    "Also a fake," said Tuor. "Pay it no mind; that gem is merely a vessel into which the Heaven''s Eye flows its power. Elranor would not be fool enough to put it in an exposed place.


    "The true gem lies in Anoa''s secret vault.


    "Arengeth, Pandora, and I sealed it there ourselves.


    "Observe."


    He moved over to the statue and felt the decorations on the wall. Pressing the designs, a door slid away beneath his hand. In they went, and beyond was a tunnel leading downward. Isamu had to duck to move through it. "So, we''re going to face Orson soon, right?"


    "And some other possible enemies, yes," said Tuor. "Knowing him-"


    Then, they came out of the tunnel and into a huge circular room. At the center was an altar, and on it stood a stone, much like the one before. Yet it was difficult to gaze on, and Sahshir was forced to look away. Around him, he saw mirrors on every wall.


    "It has been many years, Tuor," said a voice.


    There was a flash, and an ordinary-looking man in a simple white tunic appeared before them. In one hand was a sword. Tuor drew his nunchucks. "...Davian, is it now?"


    "That is the name I have been called for many generations, yes," said Davian with a shrug. "A common footman who is in many places at once. A humble servant with many responsibilities."


    "I''m surprised you let us get this far unhalted," scoffed Tuor. "Or are you fighting against your orders?"


    "Don''t be absurd," said Davian. "It was not by Anoa''s spellwork that I am bound to this place; I broke that long ago. No, I remain because my task is important and must be done.


    "What of you, Tuor? I remember a boy with a true ambition to bring order and peace to a wartorn world?"


    "That boy died long ago," said Tuor. "Step aside, or you will be destroyed."


    Davian looked at his sword. "...I suppose I could. All of us have a duty we must fulfill. Each person has come into existence to fulfill a certain role in the name of a higher power. Orson was born to serve his King, but when he failed in that, he was destroyed.


    "And the Heir of Kings...


    "The Heir of Kings was meant to destroy Baltoth."


    "You mean to oppose us, then?" guessed Tuor.


    "Oppose?" asked Davian. "No.


    "I''m going to kill you. Draw your swords. I shall not fight opponents who are not ready to defend themselves."


    Sahshir and Isamu both complied, and they fanned out to approach. Tuor smiled. "You always were too honorable for your own good."


    "Was I?" asked Davian. "I seem to recall that it was dishonor that destroyed me. Wickedness destroys a man, not virtues. As you shall learn!"


    And then he was no longer Davian but Orson. His tunic became shining white armor, and his blades shone brilliantly. In a moment, his sword was coming toward Sahshir''s throat. Bringing around his blade, Sahshir parried the strike, only to be driven back across the room. A wound nicked his hand, then his legs, and he fell to one knee.


    Orson raised his sword for the final blow, but Isamu came from behind with a roar. Orson turned, parried Isamu''s blow, and pushed him. Tuor came at him from behind with a flurry of blows. Yet Orson dodged and weaved even as he disarmed Isamu and stabbed him in the stomach. Drawing out the blade, he whirled, cut Tuor''s nunchucks in half by the chain, and nearly took his head off.


    Tuor backflipped away before drawing out kunai and hurling three. Orson caught them on his shield, even as Sahshir sprang into the air and plunged the Sword of Order down. However, Orson sidestepped and brought around his blade. Sahshir could twist mid-air to avoid losing his head, but Orson bashed him with his shield.


    Sahshir was thrown back and hit the ground. Looking up, he saw Isamu rising up, looking a bit cautious. Orson stood ready, waiting for them to compose themselves.


    "You fight with skill for one of your afflictions," mused Orson. "One more victim of Tuor, then?"


    "Silence!" said Sahshir, fanning out.


    Then, all three of them attacked at once. They came to Orson from three directions at the same time, but he stepped out of their reach. As they attacked, his blade and shield moved in a blur. Every strike they made failed so that Orson''s armor seemed useless. And then he began to inflict small wounds on each of them.


    This was ridiculous!


    Then Sahshir saw the Heaven''s Eye.


    Blocking a strike from Orson, he sprang away toward the Heaven''s Eye. Even as he did, however, Orson reappeared in front of him. Bringing around his sword, Sahshir caught it. Then he grabbed Orson''s shoulder with his metal hand. Vaulting over him, Sahshir lost his grip on the Sword of Order as Orson twisted with one hand.


    Dropping the blade, Sahshir whirled around with his metal hand. He caught Orson''s blade as it came down. It cut deep into the steel, and Sahshir was pinned to the altar. Reaching out, Sahshir snatched the Heaven''s Eye.


    And then all was light.


    Sahshir''s pain was all gone, and he was falling through light. At last, he came face to face with a white figure with skin like freshly fallen snow. Sahshir knew him at once. "Elranor."


    Elranor smiled. "Greetings to you, King Sahshir of Kalthak. I believe we have a great deal to discuss."


    So Sahshir had been right. The only question was about what?

 Chapter 336 - Twenty-Five: Meeting with a God

    Sahshir''s hand went to his sword at once. However, he found it was not at his side. The pain was also gone, and he looked at his hand to see it whole and unmarred. Around him was a snowy field. Elranor moved forward, but Sahshir turned his back on him.


    "We have nothing to speak of, Elranor," said Sahshir. "The Heaven''s Eye is Baltoth''s."


    "One more thing taken which he has no right to, then?" asked Elranor.


    "Baltoth is Eternal," said Sahshir.


    "And yet there are prophecies of his end?" noted Elranor. "Prophecies, he fears even now."


    "That will not happen," said Sahshir, walking through the snow. "Baltoth accounts for all and fears nothing."


    "Why do you serve him?" asked Elranor.


    Sahshir halted and glanced back to the god. "It is my duty."


    "Is it?" asked Elranor. "We''re not your ancestor''s servants of Safara? And their ancestor''s servants of Garacel? And did not many serve Rammas for a time? Baltoth is a comparatively new deity."


    "Baltoth brought order from chaos," replied Sahshir.


    "And yet Valranor predates him, does he not?" asked Elranor. "Was he not the Lord of Order before?"


    "Valranor was an imposter," said Sahshir simply. "He set himself in a place undeserved."


    "Really?" asked Elranor. "Did not Baltoth begin as Lord of Pride? Why should the greatest of all gods willingly cede his chosen domain to an enemy?"


    "For a time," replied Sahshir. "However, that title has passed to Adrianeth."


    "What is he then?" asked Elranor. "Lord of Pride? Or Lord of Order?


    "Or perhaps the agent of Typhos.


    "Did he not wield the Blade of Chaos long ago?"


    "Baltoth is," replied Sahshir simply.


    "Or he is not," noted Elranor. "How can you know he is the supreme god you claim him to be? Do you truly believe him to be eternal? Or are you just using that as an excuse to seek your own ideology?"


    "Your words mean nothing to me," said Sahshir with a shrug. "You are a liar, and you have no truth."


    "You believe that virtue and justice must be sought, regardless of results, do you not?" asked Elranor.


    "Of course," said Sahshir.


    "A fine answer," mused Elranor. "I wonder if you truly believe it."


    Then the view changed, and Sahshir saw three people. A man and woman clad in white, and a longhaired, dark-skinned boy. "This man was a tax collector in Calisha. He loved his family and sought to do his best in every situation. He gave extra money to help the poor and believed in Baltoth without his heart.


    "Unfortunately, he was also skimming a small amount of money off the top.


    "His son, who believed in Baltoth, reported him." The view changed to a ground of execution, where dozens of people screamed. Nailed to crosses, they were raised up in the sight of the people, their legs being broken. "And so the man was crucified alongside many others. To repay the debt, Baltoth sold his wife and child into slavery. The mother expired on the journey, leaving the son alone." The vision showed the boy standing over his dead mother before being dragged away. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "He was purchased, sent to the sugar plantations of Sorn, and worked to death over a miserable few weeks." Visions went before Sahshir as he watched the boy, starving and burned, waste away in a ditch.


    "Was this justice?"


    "Who is it whose fleets sail the seas and take slaves, Elranor?" asked Sahshir.


    "All nations have their atrocities, but that does not answer the question," said Elranor. "Was this justice?"


    "Baltoth set an example of him to prevent corruption," replied Sahshir.


    "And so he and his family must suffer a grisly fate disproportionate to their crimes," noted Elranor. "All so that others will live in terror, and still more distant people need not fear corruption.


    "Is that justice?"


    "The guilty shall often accuse to distract from their inequities," noted Sahshir.


    "But is it justice?" asked Elranor.


    Sahshir looked at the visions of the boy for a long time before sighing. "...No."


    "But if Baltoth is the supreme being you claim him to be, then he cannot be wrong, can he?" asked Elranor. "To possess a flaw is to be imperfect? And to be imperfect is to be limited and therefore not supreme.


    "What does it say that he should be the Dark Lord of Harlenor, just as I am the Dark Lord of Calisha? Should not his very nature overawe all who hear his name?"


    "You speak in riddles to conceal your true purpose," said Sahshir. "Why don''t you speak plainly, as a man does? What is it you want in this?"


    "I wonder if you would allow me to heal you," said Elranor.


    "What?" said Sahshir, taken aback.


    "I am the God of Healing," said Elranor. "It is well within my power to undo what Laevian has done to you. Certainly, it is not just for you to suffer for the sins of your father."


    "It is written: ''Beware gifts given freely, for they always have a price.'' What is the price?" asked Sahshir. "Shall I lay my sword at your feet and pledge loyalty?"


    "None at all," said Elranor. "I shall heal you fully and expect nothing in return. I do this simply as an act of goodwill."


    "Goodwill offered even as I take from you your greatest artifact?" asked Sahshir. There was something more to this. Had Tuor known Elranor would make this offer?


    "The Heaven''s Eye will avail Baltoth nothing. And you may say as much to him," said Elranor. "He cannot use it, for it is tied to my will and will alone. Only those of my blood can carry it. And I do not think he will trust either of you.


    "Rather, he will wish it locked away, where none can use it."


    "His purposes for the gem are of no concern," replied Sahshir. "It is enough for me to know that he desires it, so I shall oblige."


    "Are you certain Baltoth desires it?" asked Elranor. "Not Suloth? Not Neseriah? Not Tuor-"


    "He is the Disciple of Baltoth!" snarled Sahshir. "His loyalty is without question."


    "Are you sure it is his loyalty beyond question?" asked Elranor. "Are you certain Baltoth''s children might not scheme against him? How do you know that by staying true to Baltoth, you will not commit to killing his sons and daughters? Perhaps facing all of Calisha."


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    "Baltoth is Calisha," replied Sahshir. Yet he found his will could have been stronger.


    "Is he?" asked Elranor. "I hadn''t noticed.


    "No tyrant may rule by fear forever. No matter how well-made the chains he builds, they shall rust and break. And always his slaves shall seek a way out."


    "You speak of what you don''t understand," said Sahshir. "That we belong to ourselves is the worst lie ever told by one mortal to another. Each one of us belongs to something greater than ourselves. We become ourselves fully by becoming one with that greater entity. And to defy it is to become less with every breath of rebellion."


    "And what if you are rebelling?" asked Elranor. "What if Baltoth ordered the utter destruction of Kalthak tomorrow? What if he ordered you to put your friends and family to the sword in his name? Would you do so?"


    "Of course," said Sahshir without a second''s hesitation.


    Elranor seemed taken aback. "...That is not an answer I would expect from one so intelligent."


    "The Baltoth I serve is wise and powerful," replied Sahshir. "He would not command such a sacrifice unless it served a purpose. If he came before me and commanded I do such a thing, he would explain why. If he did not, he would not be Baltoth, and if his explanation was for his amusement, the same applies. He would merely be an imposter wearing his skin."


    "And how do you know that the Baltoth in Ruscow is not such an imposter?" asked Elranor.


    "Do you have an alternative?" asked Sahshir. "Or are you merely spreading doubt in an enemy to weaken them?


    "I shall not be led astray by simple doubt.


    "To submit to you would be to yield my realm to the tender mercies of those like Argath Marn and Tanith Telus. Calisha has already seen the honor of Harlenor. They are bold and uncompromising when plundering those who cannot defend themselves. But they seek a truce in the face of real battle."


    "Then your vendetta is East against West?" mused Elranor.


    "Of course not," said Sahshir. "However, no word spoken by you or any Harlenorian can be trusted fully. To throw down Baltoth would be to yield the world to you. And that shall never happen while I draw breath."


    Elranor shifted, and there seemed to be doubt within him. "...You are a good man, Sahshir.


    "Will you allow me to heal you?"


    For a moment, Sahshir considered accepting. But, if it were Baltoth''s will that he be healed, it would not be by the hand of his enemy.


    "I want nothing from you, Elranor," said Sahshir simply. "The Heaven''s Eye is Baltoth''s."


    Then his eyes opened.


    His metal hand was still broken, but Orson was gone. Pulling himself up, he held the Heaven''s Eye in his hand. It sent soothing energy through him, offering a quick and easy solution to his pains. But Sahshir would not be deceived; he would ask Baltoth to heal him when he gave him the stone.


    Pain was nothing, and neither was the flesh.


    "Sahshir, are you alright?" asked Isamu.


    Sahshir rose and picked up the Sword of Order quickly. "Yes. I have claimed it. Where is Orson?"


    "As soon as you grabbed the gem, he disappeared," said Isamu, whose wounds were healing. "That guy was the best fighter I''ve ever run into. I wish we''d brought the others."


    Tuor said nothing, but there was something strange about his manner. "Good, let us leave now."


    "So um, is this fortress going to start collapsing now or..." began Isamu.


    "Don''t be foolish, Isamu," said Tuor. "Only an idiot builds a fortress that can''t be held up without the need for magic."


    "So we just walk out?" asked Isamu.


    "No need for that," said Tuor. "Sahshir, give me the eye. I will move us from this place."


    Sahshir hesitated a moment and finally offered the gem to Tuor. Yet, as Tuor took it in hand, he did not let go. There was a flash, and they were back at the camp, where Nagos was speaking to Urus and Cadas about some story.


    "You''re back, how are-" began Oresa.


    "We have to go now," said Sahshir. "Pack everything, and let''s get out."


    There was no sign of pursuit yet, but Sahshir was not content to bet their mission on that remaining the case.


    The journey that followed was silent, annoying, and disturbingly quiet.


    They moved, and Sahshir glanced back to see who was following them. Tuor led them at an erratic pace, sometimes doubling back to evade notice. No one felt like speaking.


    The trees seemed to hold threats with them.


    "Who are these, anyway?" asked Isamu. "And how did you get their allegiance."


    "A merchant from Seathorius, of course," said Tuor. "Savior''s Run has recently become open for merchants to go to and fro.


    "Among them are my agents.


    "Duke Vanion Gabriel can be thanked for that."


    "Gabriel again," mused Sahshir.


    "House Gabriel''s efforts seem to have conspired to ensure our success, have they not?" asked Urus. "Is he one of us?"


    "Don''t be absurd," said Tuor. "Vanion smashed two attempts on our part to seize Artarq. He is an enemy. Merely one with an understanding of the benefits of trade and open borders."


    "And what of the wolves within the Wolven Forest?" asked Sahshir.


    "They serve Baltoth, of course," said Isamu. "Telix is their sire, and he is a son of Baltoth. None may defy him."


    "Right, because as we all know, sons are bound to the will of their fathers," said Isamu. "And no son of Baltoth has ever betrayed him." The sarcasm could be cut with a knife.


    "I take your point," mused Tuor as they neared. "These arrangements were set up before Telix was nominally allied with Gel Carn. So, we shall simply have to take our chances."


    Sahshir suddenly halted and glanced back. His hair stood on end, and he sensed men moving through the forests.


    "What is it?" asked Urus.


    "...Men are coming through the forest after us," said Sahshir, seeing them. "The woodsmen are after us. Wolves are coming as well."


    "Quickly, up into the trees," said Sahshir.


    Quickly, they scrambled up, doing their best to wipe away their tracks with a branch. Scaling up the tree, Sahshir drew the Sword of Order and focused through it. Closing his eyes, he focused his will on hiding them from their enemies. Below them, he saw the woodsmen emerge.


    They went clad for war, with swords as well as bows. As they came, they were stopped by many wolves. At their head was a bearded man who seemed half-wolf. "You there, human, what is the meaning of this?"


    "The Heaven''s Eye has been stolen, Rustoff," said the man. "We''ve tracked those responsible here. Do you know of them?"


    "We scented several unusual smells," mused Rustoff, glancing up. "There are sons of Baltoth among them."


    "Are you sure?" asked the man.


    "Quite," said Rustoff.


    "Will you aid us or thwart us?" asked the man.


    "Our honor binds us to Adrian and through him, you," said Rustoff. "My wolves are at your disposal."


    "Then fan out and help us to find them," replied the man.


    And so they spread out, with Rustoff glancing at the branches.


    Quickly, they descended, though Sahshir suspected that Rustoff was actually on their side. He had likely noticed them and chosen not to mention as much.


    "Come, let''s go," said Tuor. "To the river, they''ll surely discover us soon. We''ll dispense with stealth."


    And they ran.


    They had not gone far as they ran across the woods before they heard the howl of a wolf. Together, they sprinted all the faster, led by Tuor. Suddenly, Oresa let out a cry and fell. Sahshir turned and ran back but saw Isamu kneeling to grab her.


    "Come on!" said Sahshir. "Quickly!"


    They ran out of the trees to the banks of Savior''s Run. There, they saw a longboat crewed by dwarves. Sitting on a rock in front of them was a black-haired dwarf wearing a skull on his head. In one hand was a gnarled staff. "Master Tuor, my lord foresaw-"


    "Get the ship moving, Devrox! Now!" snapped Tuor, halting by the gangplank. "All of you go first. Go, go, go."


    Sahshir stopped and led the others to rush onto the ships, keeping his sword ready. Counting them as they went, he finally turned and ran onto the ship. Tuor followed behind him, and the gangplank was pulled up. Arrows came out of the trees to land in the woods.


    Oars were put out as the ship was launched onto the river, moving against the current. Their progress was slow, but then Devrox raised his staff. The river around them seemed to let them pass somehow. They shot through the water. Sahshir sensed something in the air, something horrible.


    A malignant presence seemed to snarl around them.


    Which god did this Devrox serve?


    Whoever it was, it was powerful indeed. The ship cut through the water rapidly, leaving waves behind it. It only slowed little by little.


    "Tuor, who are these who have joined us?" said Sahshir after a moment.


    "Hail and well met, King Sahshir," said Devrox. "I am Devrox, High Priest of the Dark Nakmar."


    "Dark Nakmar?" asked Sahshir.


    "A term given to us by outsiders," said Devrox. "We are those Nakmar who serve the demonic archons, Zigildrazia, Melchious, and Lucius.


    "We are, in truth, merely Nakmar with different gods.


    "However, for convenience, we are referred to as Dark Nakmar."


    "You worship the Demonic Archons," said Isamu.


    "Do not we all?" asked Devrox. "Among them is Baltoth, Baltoth. Denram, see if you can collect the arrows. We could make use of them."


    A dwarvish boy near him nodded. "Yes, Uncle." And he began to pull the arrows out.


    "Why have you come out here?" asked Urus.


    "It is the will of the Dark Gods that the Heaven''s Eye is transported safely to Calisha," said Devrox. "And so I shall ensure you get there safely."


    "And how shall we arrive there?" said Sahshir. "Savior''s Run passes directly through Antion. Andoa II shares the name ''the Bright'' for a reason. We shall not pass unnoticed."


    "On the contrary," said Tuor. "The city of Antion has many... less savory aspects. The underworld in that place will be ideal for our purposes."


    "I thought the plan was to go out through Sorn," said Nagos.


    "Plans change," said Tuor.


    "Yeah, well, I don''t want to change them without reason!" snapped Isamu. "I say we jump off this damn ship as soon as we''re clear, head for Sorn, get back with Belosh, and get out! I''ve had it with this cloak-and-dagger idiocy."


    "We''d have to head through the domain of House Korlac for that," noted Tuor. "They have destroyed virtually every smuggler and pirate group in that region. And they keep a keen watch on the roads."


    "He''s right, Isamu," conceded Sahshir. "Besides, Sorn may not be happy to see any of us. Sen Kaba may end up stealing the Eye for himself if he gets a chance. I trust none of those merchants."


    "Isamu is right," said Urus. "Going through Antion is a bad idea."


    "Why don''t we vote?" asked Oresa.


    "Vote?" asked Tuor.


    "Why not," said Sahshir.


    Alkela motioned quickly, and Sahshir nodded. "Alkela desires to go through Seathorius. She wishes to see the land for herself. I will also attend to some personal matters, though I have no idea what she is talking about." He''d talk to her about that later.


    "I, um, I want to see this Seathorius place," admitted Oresa. "I''ve read many stories of Baltoth''s adventures there, and I''d like to see what it''s like."


    "I need not say where I stand since this was my plan," said Tuor.


    "Nagos, what about you?" asked Sahshir.


    "Much as I like exploring, I''d like to meet up with Serna again," said Nagos. "I''m sure many things have come up I need to tend to, and, well...


    "I''m not sure Baltoth will like the King of Chaminus showing up unannounced.


    "Besides, I''ll bet I could set up a false trail for anyone following us to go by. It could throw them off the scent."


    "How will you do that by yourself?" asked Isamu.


    "I won''t be doing it myself; I''ll be doing it with the help of the friends we made along the way," said Nagos.


    "Who would those be?" asked Sahshir.


    "That was sarcasm, and I was talking about Garrick, Sen Kaba, and the Fish King," said Nagos.


    "Sahshir, what say you?" asked Tuor.


    Sahshir considered his answer carefully. "...Savior''s Run will take us near House Gabriel''s holdings, will it not?"


    "Yes," said Tuor.


    "Then I choose the river," said Sahshir. "I want to see for myself the works of this House. They seem to influence so many lands while ruling none of them." He looked to Nagos. "Are you sure you wish to go alone?"


    "Of course," said Nagos.


    "Then our course is set," said Tuor. "We need only achieve it now."


    This mission became more dangerous at the moment. And yet, one could not see the danger. Only those it worked through.

 Chapter 337 - The Curse of Fortenex

    Thank you to everyone who has read this far in my series, Heaven and Hellfire. I really appreciate your efforts. If you haven''t already, could you favorite and follow this. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Tomorrow, I plan to release the next installment of William''s story. This one is entitled the Curse of Fortenex. It will follow up on the Web of Iron and expand the scope of the world. In case you''re interested, I have begun posting individual books. The first three installments are nearly complete.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Many of them feature new pictures and theme music to go with events. If you could favorite and follow those, it would help a lot. A review would be even better.


    For now, stay tuned for the next installment of William''s story.

 Chapter 338 - Prologue: A Call for Vengeance

    In the wake of the destruction wrought on the Iron Kingdom, Fortenex was well pleased. From his chariot high in the skies, he looked down upon the world with keen eyes. His gaze turned to a remote clifftop near the land of giants. There, his lover, Drenda, stood at the edge of a high cliff. Her dark hair flowed around her in the hills as she went clad in ragged, red robes, and her clawed hands were in place. With her was a satyr clad in red robes with a steel mask: the High Priest, Karasush.


    "It is done. Fortenex has kept his word," said Drenda, voice filled with pride. "The humans and dwarves have torn each other to pieces by his hand. Melchious has been denied his weapon. We may flow out over this land and take it for our own."


    Even as she spoke, Fortenex reached out with one hand. Across the world, monsters and races long forgotten began to stir. Not just in Viokinar but in many other domains. From the reaches of the far south of Gel Carn. To ancient groves in Themious, even other worlds. The power that was now stirring could not be halted.


    Nor should it.


    "Do not be too hasty, Drenda," said Karasush, calm and collected as always. Karasush had a rare knack for keeping his head, making him valuable to Fortenex. "My satyrs have come to me. They tell me that many villages survived the purge. And among them are Byran and Raka. Two of the great warriors of the Iron Kingdom remain, and they are working to recreate it.


    "Even now, they give assistance to those that remain, and their blades are at hand. And more come, for a fleet of ships under Vanion Gabriel may thwart your plans."


    Vanion.


    Always Vanion.


    A regular trickster mixed with Lord of Order at that. He and Karasush were cut of the same cloth. However, Vanion was the stronger at present. Fortenex would have to do something about this, wouldn''t he?


    Drenda smiled. "It hardly matters, for we have grown while they shrank. They are few, and we are many. They cannot stop us from seizing this land.


    "I only hope that Grendesh may arrive. He has been gone a long time."


    Then Fortenex saw something rushing in the underbrush. Out of the trees burst his son''s trailing blood. Grendesh had only a stump where his hand had once been. It was bleeding copiously, and he had been injured. Great tears were coming from the giant''s eyes as he fell to the ground at Drenda''s feet.


    So, Gabriel had defeated him.


    "Grendesh! Grendesh, what has happened?" asked Drenda, setting about healing him by spell. And her voice was filled with mourning.


    Fortenex turned his chariot and sent his wives rushing toward Drenda. He heard it all as he shot through the air on the wind. Grendesh looked up, eyes drooping.


    "Mother..." he gasped.


    "Bring me bandages and herbs, quickly!" said Karasush. And they were brought forward.


    "Grendesh, your poor hand!" said Drenda, kneeling by him. "Who has done this to you."


    "William... Gabriel..." gasped Grendesh.


    Then he collapsed. That name.


    Fortenex had heard it a great deal lately.


    Drenda tended to his wounds. Fortenex felt anger coming into his thoughts. They were coursing through him like the tides of hellfire. William Gabriel had interfered with his plans again. Not stopped them, of course, they could not stop it. But he had made Fortenex pay a high price and put future barriers in the path of the future. This time, it had cost the hand of one of his children. His mortal children.


    "Fortenex! Fortenex, my love who found me in the ruins of my village!" cried Drenda. "Come to me! Grant me an audience!"


    Fortenex surged down from the sky and drew his chariot to a halt. And though he felt nothing for Grendesh, he would honor his son and his consort. "You called me name, Drenda. And I have come to you."


    "A warrior called William Gabriel has maimed my son!" said Drenda. "Curse him, my love! Let all his journeys be cursed! May his companions die and all that he labors for come to ruin! Let him die alone!"


    "This name I know of well," said Fortenex, pleased that her desires were so close to his own. "For one of my daughters has long fought with him. By his hand were some of the people in this land spared. More battles would have to be fought, which, without him, would not have happened at all.


    "Yet he is well guarded. He is precious to many gods, who are my enemies."


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    "Then will you allow this ruination of our son?" asked Drenda.


    "No, my lady," said Fortenex, feeling fury at the injury dealt to his beloved flesh. The winds howled as he spoke, and Zeya''s lightning smote the rocks to create avalanches in the passes. The air howled with the cries of the Iron Kingdom''s victors. "I shall not. For your sake, my curse shall be upon him. Yet it shall be a long time in the working. I will strive to do all that you have asked. My will shall be his downfall, but it shall not be through my hand or my subjects'' hands.


    "And the wound of our son shall not be forever. For I will have my goblins forge a claw of iron, and it shall be set over the stump. When I cast my spell over it, he shall move it as he did his fingers. And it shall grip harder than any mortal hand.


    "Now, my lady, I must depart. For the beginnings of my curse must be sewn."


    He cupped Drenda by the cheek, then looked to where Karasush was tending to Grendesh. A meaningless formality it was. But he would perform it nonetheless, for one must hold their lover in affection. Finally, he turned and leaped back onto his chariot. He whipped the goat-formed women harnessed into them and drove them away.


    He shot across the great western ocean, far from the frozen north, and cold fell on the lands. And as he flew, he soon came to far more green and fertile lands. And he found a great mountain, greater than any other in that domain.


    He rode his chariot downwards and brought it to a halt near the peak. There, he saw a tall and muscular woman. Her hair was long and white at the moment, but her features were young. Her eyes were golden, and she wore only a loose-fitting white tunic that bared her long legs. Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In one hand was a crackling lightning bolt.


    "Hail Zeya! Queen of the Western Gods!" said Fortenex.


    "Fortenex," said Zeya. "It has been many decades since last you came to the Mount of Olorus."


    "Indeed it has, Mighty Queen," said Fortenex, pleased at his greeting. "Tell me, what are you seeking far below in your domain?"


    "A worthy lay for the night if you must know," said Zeya. Often, she sought worthy men to lie with and rarely found them among her people.


    Fortenex came up behind her and followed her gaze. There was a young man, slight of frame. Probably very handsome by the standards of the western lands. Which meant he was weak, effeminate, and spineless. He was actually picking flowers, which no man of the east would be caught dead doing.


    "What of him?" he asked.


    "Yes, he is fair to look upon," said Zeya. "Yet I am in the mood for one more willful. Stronger of body. Perhaps a farmer''s son; there must be one handsome enough."


    "A farmer? Would not a great warrior be more to your tastes?" said Fortenex.


    "I am not in the mood for women," said Zeya.


    "But there are many men warriors in foreign lands, are there not?" asked Fortenex.


    "I have not gone far afield in many years," mused Zeya. "Elranor does not like me going among his people."


    "Ah, but forbidden fruit has always tasted sweeter, has it not?" asked Fortenex.


    Zeya looked at him in amusement. It''s easy to manipulate this one. "It has. But Elranor is mighty, and I would not risk his displeasure save for one truly great."


    "Then I may have one worthy of your efforts," said Fortenex, and he pointed with one hand from the Mountain of the Gods. "Look there."


    And he turned and motioned far to the east and conjured up the image of a ship. Minotaurs crewed it. Mighty men before the mast, who had sailed to many lands and fought in many battles. All save for five who were mightier still.


    One of the five was a tall woman with wavy blonde hair like a mortal version of Zeya. The second was a Calishan boy, short, thin, and dark of hair and face. Zeya took little notice of him, though Fortenex knew his nature. Then, there was a chimera lounging on the deck with the crew having to step around her. It was an odd choice of companion but a good one.


    Finally, two blonde people, a boy and a girl, stood near the woman. The girl was thin and lean, with a bowl cut for her hair and a gray tunic, and at either side of her belt hung two long blades. The boy wore black armor engraved with images of death. His hair was longer, reaching down to beneath the shoulder. Over one eye was a jagged scar, though whatever had made it had not touched the eye itself. At his side was a black sword inscribed with red runes. Under one arm, he held a helmet with the image of a skull upon the visor.


    "You show me the greatest of my children," noted Zeya.


    "And also her company," said Fortenex. "Her child stands beside her."


    "The prophesied one," mused Zeya. "Yes, I see them. That girl wields two blades instead of a shield and spear."


    "She has been trained in them; you needn''t fear," said Fortenex. "Long she studied in Carn Gable beneath the eyes of the finest warriors. Yet it is to her compatriot that I think you should look."


    "Armor like death itself," said Zeya. "Yet he is very fair beneath it. How did he gain that scar?"


    "He won it fighting one of my daughters," said Fortenex. "He has journeyed far and mastered perils far greater than many warriors twice his age. And faced demons and horrors beyond measure."


    "But he is in the company of Azgora and many others," said Azgora. "I prefer privacy with my conquests."


    "Ah, but you may have it," said Fortenex. "For there is an island called Estal not far to the east where this ship is sailing. If you wish, I will summon a tempest and blow their ship off their right path to Estal. Then, I will quiet the winds about that land and do so for a week or so.


    "In that time, the boy may become separated from his compatriots. And then you may move upon him."


    "And Herus will know nothing of this," said Zeya. "Her gaze rarely goes far beyond Themious, and the Festival of the Hearth is nigh. I will make my move then. My husband will be occupied until I have had my fun. Perhaps I may meet with Azgora''s daughter.


    "If she has not already been instructed in her destiny by Azgora, I may do so myself.


    "Yes, this will fit nicely into my designs."


    "Then I shall stir up the winds," said Fortenex. "One moment." He raised a hand and sent forth his will. The winds shifted and changed. And once Zeya made her move, he''d be sure Herus knew of it.


    His curse would soon be wrought. And many great battles would ensue.


    Zeya was fun to manipulate. It came with being the Goddess of Heroes, or so Fortenex presumed.

 Chapter 339 - One: An Unwelcome Landing

    The smell of sweat and the sound of oars cutting through water filled the air. Minotaurs labored on the lower decks to keep the large vessel slicing through the sea. The sun beat down on the fighting top, and the air was hot and heavy. The wind was not as great as he would have liked, but it was something.


    "I wish we were out of this armor," said William, adjusting his cloak.


    "Oh, come on," said Tanith from where she was leaning against the mast. Her hands were on her dual swords. "We''re supposed to be guarding against pirates. If they do show up, we wouldn''t have time to put it on."


    "What pirates are we going to guard against?" asked William. "Calisha and Harlenor are at peace. And we have Estal to our east. By this time, we''re well out of the waters of Viokinar. I don''t see who is going to attack us."


    "I don''t know," admitted Tanith, shrugging. "Merfolk, maybe?" Tanith was very well educated but lacked William''s enduring interest. You had to do a lot to catch her interest.


    "Don''t display your ignorance Tanith," said William. "Merfolk don''t care about the surface world. They have their world beneath the waves. Why would they even want to attack us? Surface goods would be useless to them, and we haven''t done anything to earn their hatred."


    "Krakens?" suggested Tanith, sounding more interested. "Sea serpents? They are known to attack ships. And we did make an enemy of the Iron Kingdom. That Jormungsk creature might come after us."


    "The Iron Kingdom doesn''t exist anymore," said William, remembering the blood and ruins. "You saw what happened to it as well as I. What''s left is a shadow."


    "Right, right, mass death, blood guts, the usual," said Tanith, looking up. "That was fun."


    "Fun?" said William. "Thousands of people are dead!"


    "Yeah, but I don''t know any of them," said Tanith. "And anyway, they aren''t Harlenorians. What happens to them isn''t any of our concern."


    Every time William almost forgot how Tanith had changed, she went and reminded him. She had been as horrified as everyone else when they had been walking amidst the Iron City ruins. Yet, as soon as Viokinar had faded into the distance, Tanith had forgotten what had happened. Or perhaps he pretended to forget; he wasn''t sure.


    William wondered if this was a way of coping with it. He could have chided her, but she wouldn''t have understood. He could have yelled, but that would have made a scene for no reason. So he said nothing.


    Everyone in the Iron Kingdom was dead. Dead because he had failed to save them.


    His musings were interrupted when Hrungeld came up the steps with Mother. Hrungeld stood two heads taller than Mother. Even so, he was the less impressive figure. And Hrungeld was very impressive, being a huge gray minotaur with a long white beard. "Two days, two days, and no wind. We''ll never make it to Artarq at this rate. Not without rationing the food."


    "Then do so," said Mother.


    "There is another thing," said Hrungeld. "I don''t think we''ll be able to feed the illusion. She eats enough for ten men."


    "Massacre can control herself," said William. "She isn''t an animal. She won''t eat us." He looked down to where the chimera was sleeping by his feet and scratched Massacre behind the ears.


    "You can get by eating a little less, can''t you?"


    Massacre''s goat head looked up and looked at William with irritation. "Bah." She said. Her lion head remained where it was, sleeping. Her dragon head rose and looked over the ship''s edge at the sea, smoke rising from her nostrils.


    "William, do you want to spar?" asked Tanith suddenly.


    "Not really, no," admitted William.


    "Oh, come on," said Tanith. "We''ve not had any fighting to do since leaving the Iron Kingdom. A brief spar won''t hurt."


    "It might," said William. "And I''m in no mood for it, Tanith."


    "Fine," said Tanith. "Felix, how about you?"


    Fenix had been sitting in William''s shadow, his eyes closed, and his hands clasped before him on his lap. He opened his eyes and looked at Tanith. "Why don''t you spar with Massacre?"


    "Bah," said Massacre doubtfully.


    "That won''t help my swordplay any," said Tanith.


    If it went on like this, William would have to fight her. He had no desire to end up utterly destroyed like usually happened. "Felix spars with her. That''s an order."


    "Why?" asked Felix.


    "So she''ll stop bothering me," said William.


    Felix narrowed his eyes but stood and drew his sword. "As you command, master. I presume she''ll be made to take off the armor?"


    "Of course," said Tanith. "I want a fair fight, after all."


    "I''ll call a break among the men," said Hrungeld. "It''ll be a bit of entertainment." S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    That was how Tanith and Felix faced one another across the lower deck. The minotaurs surrounded them, all watching. Hrungeld had passed out some ale to lighten spirits.


    "So, who will emerge as the victor, do you think?" asked Hrungeld.


    "Tanith," said William.


    "Why are you certain?" asked Hrungeld.


    "Well, because Tanith is a better swordfighter than me," said William, "And I am better than Felix."


    "If Felix loses too quickly, I''d appreciate it if you fought her," said Hrungeld. "The men are hoping for a real fight."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Silence, beast," said Mother. "I should not be so quick to discount Felix, my son. He is cunning."


    Then it began. Tanith rushed at Felix with a howl. Both her swords were drawn, and he was driven back beneath a flurry of lightning-fast strokes. His red blade moved quickly, but he was hard-pressed not to lose then and there. Then, just as he came within the shadow of the fighting top, he sank into the deck.


    Tanith hesitated, and Felix emerged from her shadow and brought his sword around. She turned and parried the blow. Even as she did, Felix caught her sword in the guard of his weapon and plunged both down into the deck. Tanith brought around her other sword, but Felix ducked and set a hand to her sword''s shadow.


    Melding into it, he appeared behind Tanith and caught her in an armlock from behind. He tried to get his legs around her own, but Tanith kicked off the ground. Both of them were slammed against the side of the deck and collapsed.


    Tanith rose and put her sword to his throat. "I win."


    Then she sheathed her blade and offered him a hand. "Why didn''t you use that shadow spell when we started?"


    "I can''t use my own shadow," said Felix, retrieving his sword. As he did, he fell to one knee in pain.


    William moved quickly over to him. A line of blood seeped down the side of his head where he had hit it. He kneeled by Felix. "Felix, are you all right?"


    "Of course," said Felix. "I''m only bleeding for fun."


    "You''re right; that was a foolish question," said William. He set a hand on Felix''s shoulder.


    Channeling the power of Elranor, he healed Felix''s bruises and his hurt leg. The other boy looked up. "Thank you."


    "You next, Tanith," said William, setting a hand on her arm.


    As she was healed, Tanith smiled at him, and William got a strange feeling of exhilaration from it. "That ability of yours is really useful."


    "It''s not my ability," said William, "It is granted to me by Elranor."


    "I wish Kreshlak would give me something like that," said Tanith. "Maybe inhuman strength."


    "I thought you worshipped Elranor first," said William.


    "I do," said Tanith quickly. "I just... well, I''m not exactly the paladin sort. So I figure if any god is going to grant me powers, it''ll be Kreshlak."


    "I suppose," said William.


    "You will fight her next," said Mother.


    "Mother-" began William.


    "Do it," said Azgora.


    William sighed and went for his sword as Tanith retrieved hers. Then, just as they were about to start, a gust blew between them, sending their hair flowing. Murmurs broke out among the men.


    "The wind is back!" cried Hrungeld. "Hoist the sails, and let''s be off at last."


    There were cheers as they went about their business. The sails were unfurled, and they were soon cutting through the ocean again.


    Massacre yawned and went back to sleep in the middle of the deck. She had the nerve to look affronted when someone tripped over her. Mother approached William at that moment.


    "William, I would speak with you."


    "One moment," said William. "I need to get Massacre to move."


    "Now," said Mother, her tone a command.


    William followed her to an area of the deck where no one was around, and William looked at her face. She seemed to be wrestling with some decision. He wondered what it was. "What is it, Mother?"


    "Now, you have grown old enough and strong enough to know the truth of your destiny," said Mother finally.


    Oh, that. "The one you''ve been vaguely alluding to for my entire life?"


    "Yes," said Mother. "That one."


    "Oh, good," said William. "I thought it might have been some other destiny."


    "You have spent too much time in the company of Felix," noted Mother. "No matter. First, you must know that you come from a long line of Queens. The Gorgals have ruled over the land of Acoria for many generations. Our strength at arms has made it into a mighty land. You are a Prince, William."


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "I know that much," said William, unsurprised. "But what does this have to do with my destiny?"


    "When I was born, a prophecy was spoken over my crib by a Seer of Laevian," said Azgora. "She said that my firstborn child would be born in a land far to the east. They would end the greatest enemy the people of Themious have ever faced.


    "That enemy is Typhos."


    "The goddess Melchious released from Artarq," guessed William.


    "Yes," said Azgora. "Her unleashing was the first step of the prophecy. Soon, she will arise in might and threaten Themious once again. It took the full strength of Zeya and many other gods to trap her spirit before. However, this time, you will put a final end to her.


    "You must not trust that beast. Massacre is a child of Typhos. She will surely turn against you."


    "If Typhos wanted me dead, she could just sic Massacre on me," noted William. "Why would she have helped me?"


    "Typhos is cunning," said Azgora. "She knows that she cannot defeat the prophecy by direct action. So she hopes to sew doubt in your will by appearing as a friend. But you must not succumb."


    "Mother, I-" began William.


    There was another gust at that moment, and the ship was turned. They were still cutting through the water but were going east instead of south. The timbers groaned beneath the force of their speed. William struggled to keep his feet.


    "What kind of storm is this?" asked William.


    "I don''t know," said Hrugeld. "But Kreshlak is driving us somewhere in a great hurry. He must need us. I''ll not take down these sails."


    They went on like this for a day or two. The neverending howl of the wind disturbed their sleep. Several men almost fell overboard in all the chaos, and only one of them was rescued. It never stopped.


    On the third day, the lookout let out a cry. "Look there, an island! We''ve come to Estal!"


    William and Tanith walked to the ship''s prow and looked at it. It was a very large island, with rocky cliffs almost entirely surrounding it. The only way onto the shore was a beach they were facing, and that beach was lined with many ships. There were towers just beyond the beach where archers patrolled. There was a wall which reached from cliff to cliff. Anyone who wanted to attack Estal would have to break that first.


    "Tanith," said William, "you''ve been here before, haven''t you?" It was a stupid question; of course, she had. She''d written letters about this place in the old days.


    "Yes," said Tanith. "Lord Argath harbored our ships here and used it as a base to raid Calishan villages. Back when we were still at war. It was a lot of fun; you should try it sometime."


    "I don''t think we should stay here," said William.


    "What makes you say that?" asked Tanith. "King Estal is a mighty warrior and a close ally of the three great Harlenorian Kingdoms. His people are descended from the men of Haldren and Antion."


    "Yes, but when Father brooked his truce, Estal refused to cease his raids," said William. "He is standing alone against all of Calisha. This island will fall very soon."


    "You don''t know King Estal, William," said Tanith. "He and his men are dangerous warriors. And the island is very easy to defend. This side of the island is the only place one can come ashore. The Castle of Carn Estal is a great fortress. You could hold off an army twenty times your number in a place like this."


    "You exaggerate," said William, though privately, he thought the defenses very impressive.


    "Even if she doesn''t, it hardly matters," said Felix. "Calisha can field more than that."


    "Oh, come on, Felix. You can''t be serious," said Tanith.


    "Calisha is the greatest empire in the world. The army Duke Vanion defeated was but a vanguard to clear the way," said Felix. "Had Emperor Baltoth put forth his full might, it would have taken the combined might of all Harlenor to halt him. Even if they had succeeded, he would have had forces in reserve to defend his lands.


    "Now he does not face the Harlenorian Kingdoms but a single colony led by an overconfident fool. He can pour forth his full might against them. And he will. Very soon."


    "Well, aren''t you cheery," said Tanith. "Maybe that''s why we''re here."


    "What do you mean?" asked William.


    "Well, we''ve got some of the best warriors in Harlenor on this ship," said Tanith.


    "No, we don''t," said Felix.


    "Well, we have the Lady Azgora at least," said Tanith. "Maybe the gods want us to save this place."


    "Why would Kreshlak even care?" asked Felix. "He has no worshippers on Estal. Besides, he doesn''t care for borders or victory. Just the flowing of blood and the triumph of his favorites."


    "He might," said Tanith. "Or maybe he just wants tales of the great deeds we will perform here."


    William sighed. "Estal occupies a strategic location. Whoever controls it can launch raids on Calisha, Harlenor, or Viokinar. Once, it was ruled by Viokin Minotaurs. Now, it is ruled by King Estal, who has focused his efforts entirely on Calisha.


    "Kreshlak might not want the Calishans to gain it. Or they might decide to colonize the Iron Kingdom."


    "Hey, that''s a good idea," said Tanith. "It would be easy to do with most people dead."


    "Your Father will get there first," said Mother as she appeared. "He was planning to assail the Iron Kingdom and set up colonies there even before it was laid to waste."


    "He was?" asked William in surprise.


    "Yes," said Mother. "He hoped to use the conquest of the Iron Kingdom as a pretense. A means to eliminate the many sellswords and adventurers who had come to Artarq to fight raishans. He had an army but no one to march against until you were seized."


    "I am glad," said William. "Perhaps Father may save those that remain." There had been some survivors. Those with faith in the gods had been spared. Some others had proven strong enough to resist Melchious''s magic.


    For now, they were going to be the guests of Estal.


    They found a man waiting for them when they arrived in the harbor. He wore long brown robes and had a short black beard and a mustache. His eyes were brown, and his face careworn, although he looked relatively young. His hair was cut short, and he bowed.


    "Greetings to you, noble Lords," he said. "I was told to look for you."


    "You were?" asked Hrungeld. "By who?"


    "Elranor. He appeared in a vision to our High Priest and commanded me to make ready to receive visitors. Ones who will be of great service" said the man. "Follow me."


    "Eitrigg?" asked Tanith as she stepped forward. "When did you become a priest?"


    "Tanith Telus?" asked Eitrigg in surprise. "I didn''t expect to see you again."


    "You didn''t answer my question," said Tanith. "Monk robes don''t suit you."


    "Maybe not," said Eitrigg. "But I mean to make amends."


    "Amends?" asked Tanith. "For what? You were a great warrior. Eitrigg and I sailed together under Lord Marn! We must have sacked a dozen towns!"


    "You have said the source of my shame," said Eitrigg.


    "Oh, come on," said Tanith. "They were Calishans. Killing them is doing the world a favor. And them a favor since they won''t have to serve Baltoth anymore. They don''t have to worry about having horrible things done to them on a whim."


    "Oh, as opposed to when you do horrible things to us on a whim?" asked Felix.


    "I didn''t mean any offense, Felix; you''re an exception," said Tanith.


    "Some taken," said Felix. "Just why do you think- Never mind."


    "Who are your companions?" asked Eitrigg quickly.


    "This is William Gabriel, the son of Duke Vanion Gabriel," said Tanith. "He is a veteran of the Khasmir Campaign and the Raishan Wars. There''s also Lady Azgora, his mother, and his servant Felix. And here is Captain Hrungeld of Viokinar."


    "A strange band. Come. King Estal awaits," said Eitrigg.


    "I''ll see to the ship," said Hrungeld. "Tell King Estal I am merely the transportation."


    He led them quickly from the harbor and through the city''s gates. In the distance, they could see the city of Carn Estal itself. It had high walls, higher than any fortress William had seen. The gates were thick, and there was a colorful banner overhead. The symbol of a white shark is on a blue background.


    As they marched, they traveled through several villages. There looked to be small celebrations going on. Bonfires were being lit here, and a great deal of feasting was going on, at least by commoner standards.


    Eventually, they came to a great gorge around ten feet wide in the narrowest places. Below, there were many rocks with a swift river running through them. A man who fell into those would be battered to pieces in minutes. The gorge ran from the cliff''s edge, through the mountain, and beyond out to sea. William felt a bit woozy, looking at how deep it was.


    "How did that gorge form?" he asked.


    "One of the King''s of Estal offended Barden," said Eitrigg. "So he carved a gulf between the island. We call it Barden''s Gorge."


    "What was the offense?" asked William.


    "Truth be told, I can''t remember," said Eitrigg. "I don''t know much about the lore of Barden. My service is to Elranor."


    "The first King of Estal, King Aegesir Estal, offered to build a great temple in Barden''s honor. If he would grant his people a great harvest for ten years," said Tanith. "When it was done, the King was reluctant to build the temple. So Barden tore this gorge in the land so no one could travel to or from one to another. No bridge could stand, and all the business had to be done by ship."


    "How could they do anything by ship?" asked William. "It''s a sheer rock face all around except how we came in."


    "They would bring a ship to the cliff, and goods would be lowered up and down," said Tanith. "It wasn''t nearly enough. They could only transfer essential goods, and people still went hungry. Most of the fertile land is on this side of the river.


    "Anyway, the King built the temple and humbled himself before Barden. And when that was done, they could build a bridge across it. Now it is only one way across." She pointed upriver to a formidable stone bridge. "That way. It''s a great defense."


    "Right," said Eitrigg, "I forgot your interest in divine history, Tanith."


    They crossed the bridge and passed a few more villages before, at last, they came before the gates of Estal. These were far larger up close than William had guessed they would be. Looking at them made him feel very small, and he wondered how any attacker could hope to get in. He''d never seen the defenses of the Iron City back in Viokinar. But he guessed they must be something like this.


    As they entered the city, they saw colorful banners hanging from the walls of buildings. People wore bright colors and danced and ate and sang. Merchants were selling trophies. All sorts of entertainment could be seen¡ªbear baiting, for one, and also maypoles.


    "What is this? A festival?" asked Azgora.


    "Yes," said Eitrigg. "To celebrate peace in our time."


    "Then King Estal has agreed with Calisha?" said William.


    "When word of the truce came, a raid had just been sent out, so King Estal could not agree. Not without being an oathbreaker," said Eitrigg. "It was recalled, and with the aid of Duke Vanion, an agreement has finally been reached. His son, Aris, is traveling to the capital of Ruscow to finalize the agreement."


    "Aris?" asked Tanith. "I was hoping to see him when we got here. It''s been a while since we raided the shores of Calisha. Shame, we''re at the beginnings of peace."


    "I do not think it a shame," said Eitrigg.


    "Why did Elranor tell you to await us?" asked William. "Did he give his purpose?"


    "He claimed that your coming would mean the end of the old hatreds," said Eitrigg. "None were sure what he meant."


    "I''ll have to pray to him later," said William. "I have not done that nearly enough of late." He looked to Mother. "Mother, are you all right? You''ve been very quiet."


    "I do not like this place," said Azgora. "I sense the presence of Typhos within it."


    "That is the cyclopi at fault," said Eitrigg, an edge in his tone. "They live up on the mountain and herd sheep. They are one of the only sources of worship Typhos has left. Ah, here we are, the palace."


    Eventually, they entered the palace itself. The palace of King Estal was less impressive than the walls. It was not as tall and of older make than other places in the city. It was also very defensible. William guessed that it had been used as a castle at one point. It had probably been before the walls had been made. No doubt, it had been converted to a new purpose as the island became safer.


    Eitrigg was known by the guards and admitted freely along with them. Until, at last, they came to the throne room. It was smaller than the one in Artarq. There was no raised dais upon which the King sat. Instead, there was a high table before the throne. Upon it, men were feasting, and at the head of the table was King Estal. He was seated upon an oaken chair and speaking with several other men.


    He had a short white beard and small eyes. Several scars were on his face, and one of his hands was missing fingers. Even so, he looked up to them as they approached and called for silence. "Young Tanith, it has been two years since last you sailed with my son to war against the Calishans. What brings you back to my home?"


    "We were aiming to return to Artarq," admitted Tanith. "But the wind got the best of us."


    "The winds have been strange of later," mused Estal. "But so brave a warrior is always welcome in my halls. Bring up seats; let Tanith and her companions have a place at my table!"


    Chairs were set out, and the room was made near the King. William only then realized how hungry he was for real food. He''d lived off rations for far too long and hated hungrily, though he tried to show it. Estal looked at Tanith carefully, then at the others. "Tell me, who are those who travel with you?"


    "This is William Gabriel, the son of Duke Vanion Gabriel. He''s pretty good in a fight," said Tanith. "His Mother, Lady Azgora, and Felix, a longtime companion. We''ve done a lot of fighting together."


    "Yes," said Estal. "I had heard of the latest installment of the Raishan Wars and tales of his adventures. You are a man of courage by all accounts, young William."


    William thought this an exaggeration. Tales of his deeds spreading were not due to their extraordinary nature. More because they had been written down. The book he''d published in Antion had spread like wildfire. It was thanks to the recent invention of something called a printing press. It was a Sornian device, supposedly. "My thanks, King Estal. Tanith has told me of the battles she fought in your service. At one time, my wish to fight alongside the fleets was Estal in the raids on Calisha." That was a mild exaggeration; William had expected to do it eventually. But he''d never wanted to. Those days when he''d been so weak-willed and cowardly seemed like another lifetime now.


    "I fear that time may be delayed," said Estal. "The truce has been made, and I cannot stand against Calisha alone. Still, if the tales are true, you would be welcome to stand with us. Lady Azgora, I have heard tales of your beauty and bravery in battle."


    "You will find both greater than the tales boast," said Mother.


    "A proud boast. Yet not all pride is misplaced," said Estal. "You are all of you welcome within my home, of course. I will have rooms prepared for you to stay the night. It is my pleasure to welcome all of you to Antion.


    "Now let us eat, drink, and be merry. For none know what tomorrow brings." It sounded like the best plan anyone had put forward all day. So they went with that.

 Chapter 340 - Two: Cloaks, Daggers, and Morpheus

    Kiyora had parted ways with William shortly after she was sure they were out of the woods. She hadn''t dreamed again for several nights. The truth was that with all the adventures she''d been having these past few months, she was sick of them.


    However, she knew she couldn''t stay away from Seathorius forever. Something might have happened while she was gone, and she did rule the place. So she dreamed again. The trees looked much the same as they usually did. However, their spirits were a bit more lethargic. She came to a door as she walked beneath the shadow of the woods. Of course, it was a Nakmar door, which looked like a hillside, but she''d learned to walk through those years ago.


    She passed through the halls and found King Houndslasher. The King of the Nakmar was practicing with a broad axe and clad in his mail. As she entered, he looked up. At once, the black-haired dwarf returned the weapon in its rack and looked at her.


    "Dreaming Goddess, I am glad you are here," said Houndslasher. "Things have not been the same without you."


    "Believe me, I know the feeling," said Kiyora. "Have there been any invasions?"


    "No," said Houndslasher.


    "Demonic possessions?" asked Kiyora.


    "No, nothing of the sort," said Houndslasher.


    "Odd," said Kiyora. She''d been expecting Arraxia to start all kinds of trouble now that she had the Void Stone and the Axe of Fortenex. "Oh well, is there anything you need me for?"


    "No," said Houndslasher. "We have minded our affairs." He paused. "But the woods..."


    "Yes?" asked Kiyora.


    "They''ve been very quiet and silent," said Houndslasher. "They haven''t moved at all. When our sorcerers communed with them, they claimed they were exhausted."


    "Yeah, I had to use a lot of power in a foreign land," said Kiyora. "Long story. It will be a while before I can do any more miracles. You guys will have to handle things without me."


    "I understand," said Houndslasher.


    Kiyora considered Arraxia. She had no idea what the demoness was up to, but she really should find out. "Hey, I''ve got to talk to someone."


    "I understand," said Houndslasher. "Before you go, however, I should tell you. Some of the less faithful are... concerned. We''ve become so used to you doing things for us. Now that you''ve stopped appearing so often, it has downed spirits.


    "Some say you have abandoned us."


    "I didn''t abandon anyone," said Kiyora. "And hundreds of years of good deeds earn a little loyalty."


    "Be that as it may," said Houndslasher, "it would be well if you did a few minor miracles. Just to remind others that you are still watching over them."


    "Okay," said Kiyora. "I''ll see if I can make time. But I''ve been swamped, so no promises." Then, she teleported herself again.


    This time, she appeared outside Baltoth''s Retribution. The great fortress was now nearly rebuilt. Its black walls towered over the surrounding woodlands. The illusion of benevolence was gone, and several satyr villages had sprung up around it. Kiyora focused and then appeared within the great stone hall of Arraxia.


    It was mostly empty. The pillars now had symbols of monsters engraved on them. The ceiling seemed to have gotten higher. The bonfires were burning with an unholy light. At the far end of the room was a throne. And on that throne, Arraxia was lounging.


    The voluptuous demoness had her long legs crossed over the side of the throne. Her dark hair fell across the armrest. The Void Stone was gripped in the palm of one black-skinned hand. Looking at it was as horrible as ever, and she leaned on the Axe of Fortenex. The red axe did not radiate suffering as it once had; the power had been used up.


    "I bet you think you''ve been clever?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, yes," said Arraxia. "I have the Axe of Fortenex and the Void Stone. Melchious has been banished, and I am stronger than ever at no real expense on my part. With their power, I may easily bend you to my will through our connection."


    "You know your sister might be dead?" noted Kiyora.


    "I doubt it," mused Arraxia. "Melchious wouldn''t kill Zigildrazia''s pets. Necrophilia is one of the few depravities in which Demon Queen doesn''t engage. And if he did, I suppose he''s saved me the trouble of breaking her, if nothing else."


    "Well, either way, I think I should let you know I''m not going to let you use those," said Kiyora. Arraxia laughed. "Let me? And who are you to disallow me?!"


    "The Dreaming Goddess," said Kiyora.


    "A mere title to disguise a foolish child playing at divinity," said Arraxia.


    "I''ve done a pretty good job of stopping you so far," said Kiyora.


    "A momentary inconvenience," said Arraxia.


    "What exactly are you going to do with the Void Stone and Axe of Fortenex anyway?" asked Kiyora.


    "Is it not obvious, dear?" asked Arraxia. "With the unbridled power of both, I shall... I will... I..." She paused. Then she sat up straight. "My plan was..." Arraxia looked very thoughtful.


    "You didn''t plan this far ahead, did you?" asked Kiyora.


    "I did," said Arraxia. "I was planning to subdue Seathorius using the Axe of Fortenex. I would have used the Void Stone to create an army of the walking dead to overrun all my neighbors.


    "But right now, I''m almost allied with the surrounding regions. I could break the truce and attack them, but I am not so shortsighted."


    "So you don''t have a plan anymore?" asked Kiyora.


    "I seem to have outsmarted myself," admitted Arraxia.


    "I think you mean Vanion has outsmarted you," noted Kiyora. "Out of curiosity, could you create an army of the walking dead with the Void Stone? Or were you just joking?"


    "Oh, of course," said Arraxia. "All those souls trapped inside it have been festering for hundreds of years. I need only to break them to my will and then implant their souls into the corpses of the dead. Then I could unleash them upon the neighboring regions."


    "Right," said Kiyora. "So, what are you going to do now?"


    "I have no idea," admitted Arraxia. "I suppose I shall continue to strengthen my holdings in Seathorius. So I''ll maintain this alliance for a while more.",


    "Glad to hear it," said Kiyora. "Bye."


    She reappeared outside Baltoth''s Retribution. Quickly running over the situation, Kiyora concluded. It was a pretty obvious one at that.


    "Okay, she''s going to betray us," said Kiyora. "I need to get that stone from her, and I need to do it ASAP. But how? I can''t act directly against her, can I? If I go right up there and steal it, we''ll have a war. I need someone who isn''t allied with her and wouldn''t want Arraxia getting too powerful." Then she had an idea. "That''s it!"


    She snapped her fingers and reappeared within a beautiful golden woodland. The trees here were very tall and had white bark. Walking among them was a breathtakingly beautiful elven woman with gold hair. Yet her eyes were very old.


    Queen Dawn eyed Kiyora in irritation. "Well, what do you want?"


    "Oh, nothing, Queen Dawn," said Kiyora. "I just thought I''d tell you Arraxia has the Void Stone and the Axe of Fortenex."


    Dawn sighed and put her face in her hands. "I told you your association with her would bring nothing but ruin."


    "She isn''t doing anything right now," said Kiyora. "She never expected her plans to work this well, so she''s trying to figure out what to do with them."


    "And you are telling me this because?" asked Dawn.


    "Well, you are enemies with her," said Kiyora. "I figure you might want to initiate some quest to retrieve the Void Stone. You know, before she gets bored enough to do something reckless."


    Dawn remained silent for a long moment. "...I will take this into account."


    "Oh, and if you need help, I could help guide the destined heroes or whatever," said Kiyora. She waved her hands mysteriously. "You know, in spirit."


    "Of course, you could," said Dawn. "Now get out of my domain."


    "Fine, I know my way out," said Kiyora. As she prepared to leave, she sensed a call of sorts. Someone, somewhere, wanted to speak with her.


    Kiyora quickly followed the call and found herself within the halls of the Nakmar again. King Houndslasher was sitting at a table, writing a decree. In front of him was a dwarvish woman clad in brown robes. As Kiyora approached, Houndslasher looked up without surprise. "Dreaming Goddess," he said with a nod. "You return quickly."


    "Well, I got the sense I was wanted over this way," said Kiyora. "How can I help?"


    "It is not the Nakmar who desired your presence," admitted Houndslasher. "There is a messenger here for you."


    "A messenger?" asked Kiyora. "Who?"


    "She is from Calisha," said Houndslasher. "Moira, I''ll have this order for a metal filled out soon enough. Could you escort the Dreaming Goddess to Ambassador Emira?"


    "Emira?" said Kiyora. "I remember her."


    "Follow me," said Moira.


    Moira led Kiyora through the winding, circular halls of the Nakmar. They came into a room with a high ceiling and a paved floor. The roots of a tree were growing through the top. That told Kiyora that the above were the Nakmar burial grounds for this settlement. Or, vulture grounds. Whatever they were technically called, Nakmar didn''t bury their dead.


    On the far side of the room was Emira. She appeared to be writing something in quick, small movements. The scratching of her pen annoyed Kiyora. She hated that sound. Moira bowed and looked like she wanted to say something. Then she thought better of it and departed.


    "So I''m told you came looking for me," said Kiyora.


    "Indeed," said Emira. "I come to you bearing a message from Emperor Baltoth himself. He, at this moment, invites you to attend the Festival of the Hearth within Ruscow."


    "The Festival of the Hearth?" asked Kiyora.


    "It is a celebration dedicated to Herus. Lord of Fidelity and Marriage," said Emira. "Held in the dead of winter when the world is coldest."


    "Oh, that''s nice," said Kiyora. "Uh, why is Baltoth inviting me again?"


    "He wishes you to see Calisha with your own eyes," said Emira. "He desires that you do not have your mind clouded by the speeches of Harlenorians."


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora, only half believing it. "When is this festival exactly?"


    "It is a week from now," said Emira. "Though this year''s winter has been very mild. If you wish to attend, you need only focus your will through this stone, which will transport you to the capital." She offered Kiyora a bright blue stone.


    "Okay, cool," said Kiyora, taking it. "I guess I''ll see you there."


    Then she departed and at once met with her high priest. High Priest Bjorn was reading as he usually was in his spare hours. She approached him quickly. "Bjorn, I got this stone from an emissary of Baltoth. Have some sorcerers check this stone for any sign of curses."


    "You don''t think that Emperor Baltoth would do something dishonorable, Dreaming Goddess?" asked Bjorn.


    That was right. The Nakmar held Baltoth in high regard. "Let''s just play it on the safe side," said Kiyora. Then she felt her spirit being drawn back to the world of waking. "...And I''m waking up now."


    She awoke, got up, stretched, brushed her teeth and hair, then dressed. Finally, she went downstairs to eat breakfast with Mom and Dad. She found Dad sketching on a notepad with his pen. Mom was reading this morning''s newspaper, a half-drunk cup of coffee by her.


    "Morning, Mom. Good morning, Dad," she said, sitting down.


    "So Kiyora, how is the application to become a Dream Sage going?" asked Dad.


    "I just sent it in yesterday," said Kiyora. "I don''t know if they''ll get back to me in a month or a year."


    "It may be less than that," noted Mom. "You did say that Lieutenant Escalus recommended you take it." Her voice was hopeful. She''d been against Kiyora''s decision.


    "Yeah, but it''s the most prestigious job in the entire Empire," said Kiyora. "Every kid wants to become a Dream Sage and take time out of their day battling evil."


    "Not me," said Dad, putting down his pen to sip his coffee. "I never wanted to be anything but an artist."


    "Wait, seriously?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Dad. "I''ve always loved drawing. Running across rooftops fighting evil spirits may sound glorious. But I think it is somewhat less fun than one might expect."


    "If it were up to me, they wouldn''t accept anyone under sixty," said Mom.


    "Well, that is the trouble, Mayora," said Dad. "Connections to the spirit world become most powerful when honed early. It would seriously disadvantage the Department of Spiritual Defense if they were to do that."


    "Disadvantage or not, no one is mature enough at that age to make that kind of decision," said Mom.


    "Then why did you let me send it?" asked Kiyora.


    Mom remained silent for a moment. "Well, you''ve already been thrust into things. So it will only make the difference if you become a Dream Sage. Except, in this case, you may be prepared.


    "You were the one who said it first."


    "Or she''ll face even worse dangers," noted Dad. "Tell me about them after the fact, Kiyora. It may help me paint."


    "Dear!" said Mom.


    "I''m only joking, Mayora," said Dad. "Besides, she may not get accepted at all."


    Kiyora got her food and ate hungrily. She didn''t know why, but she''d been starving lately. Finishing it, she looked at the clock and glanced at Mom. "Anyway, I need to get ready for school. Thanks, Mom."


    "Just try not to meet any creatures of eldritch power while you''re there!" said Mom.


    She began making her way down the street. As she did, she admired new construction. Several new buildings were being grown from Actovosh''s roots in her neighborhood. They were still in the early stages of growth, so she could only wonder what they would look like when done.


    She was halfway to Reya''s house to meet her friend en route when she heard a voice.


    "Kiyora..." It said.


    "Wait, is someone calling me?" she asked.


    "Kiyora... help me..." said the voice.


    That sounded important. Kiyora followed the sound and saw a group of kids huddled around a small furry creature. They were poking at it with their feet, and one of them was kicking it.


    "Hey, you kids, leave that poor animal alone!" snapped Kiyora, moving up to them.


    At once, the kids dispersed, and Kiyora saw the animal for what it was. It was like a cat, except it had wings like a dove''s. The symbol of a golden sun was etched onto its brow. It stood up and scratched itself, none the worse for wear.


    "Hello! I''m Morpheus!" said the creature. "I''ll be your Dream Sage Mascot!"


    "Dream Sage Mascot?" asked Kiyora. This was going to be one of those days.


    "Or you can call me an instructor if you like," said Morpheus. "Your application was received and accepted. I''m here to help you with your dream of becoming a Dream Sage."


    "And you were getting beaten up by a bunch of kids because?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, there weren''t any kids," said Morpheus. "That was a secret test of character. We would have counted it as an automatic rejection if you hadn''t stepped in.


    "Now come on! We''ve got a mission!"


    "A mission?" asked Kiyora. "I''ve got school."


    "Don''t worry. It''s all been arranged," said Morpheus. "You''ll be able to make up your work during the summer."


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora. "Thanks for the warning, Morpheus."


    "You''re welcome," said Morpheus.


    "That was sarcasm," said Kiyora.


    "Sar-what?" asked Morpheus.


    "Just lead on," said Kiyora in resignation. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Morpheus led Kiyora into a series of alleyways, and soon, they were walking through a maze of passages. In some of them, the roots had begun to grow too large and had nearly filled in the alleys. The people who owned the buildings really should have been doing more to guide the growth.


    "Where are we going anyway?" asked Kiyora.


    "A nightmare is manifesting itself in these alleys," said Morpheus. "If we don''t stop it soon, it''ll take a direct place in the world."


    "A nightmare?" asked Kiyora. "Is that one of those things which happen every day? The kind that are kept secret by the Department of Spiritual Defense?"


    "Yes," said Morpheus. "They are evil spirits that try to ruin and destroy this world. And they are the first enemy rookie dream sages are supposed to face."


    "Where do they come from?" asked Kiyora.


    "They''re a side effect of what Dreamer Elves are," said Morpheus. "Your races'' inherent connection to the spirit realm causes natural disruptions. Evil creatures can use these disruptions to crawl through. One of the primary duties of a Dream Sage is to exterminate them."


    "I thought their job was to fuel treeship''s weaponry," said Kiyora.


    "No, those are adult Dream Sages," said Morpheus. "We don''t send children on that kind of dangerous mission."


    "Oh, because fighting eldritch horrors is much safer," said Kiyora.


    "Nope," said Morpheus. "But nightmares aren''t eldritch horrors. They''re parasites. Most just sort of cause people bad dreams when they start. They have to become very strong before they can do any real damage. Also, most of them aren''t smart enough to last this long. This is more like exterminating an infestation of insects.


    "It''s only dangerous if you let things get out of hand."


    "You''re selling me on the glory angle of this job," said Kiyora.


    "Good," said Morpheus. "I''m supposed to keep the Dream Sage lifestyle seeming epic for as long as possible. Though I''m surprised, I''m doing such a good job. I mean, you did kill Laughing Wraith.


    "Compared to that, most of what we run into for the next few months is going to be trivial. Hopefully."


    "Great." said Kiyora. "So, how much am I getting paid again?"


    "It was listed on the form," said Morpheus.


    "I kind of forgot the details," admitted Kiyora.


    "All rookie Dream Sages get paid by the bounty," said Morpheus. "Each nightmare you destroy is worth a certain amount of money, depending on its power. You''ll get a regular paycheck once you qualify for a higher rank.


    "Just think of it as an afterschool activity. Now, we''ve got to focus. We''re nearly there."


    They came to a fence, and beyond it was Reya''s house. There was an eerie light coming from Reya''s window. Within that light was a shadow that seemed to be feasting off of it.


    "Look there, Kiyora!" said Morpheus. "There''s the nightmare! It''s tormenting that girl''s dreams."


    "What do you mean, dreams?" asked Kiyora. "Reya wouldn''t be sleeping now."


    "The nightmare has forced her into a sleep which she can''t wake up from," said Morpheus. "Quick, take this." And out of the air came a long carved white staff. It had the metal symbol of a sun on the end, painted gold. Kiyora took it. "What do I do with this?"


    "Raise the rod and say, ''By the Power of Alchara, I will smite you.''" said Morpheus.


    "That is so lame," said Kiyora.


    "Do it quickly before-" began Morpheus.


    Kiyora raised a hand and channeled her power. A wave of blue energy shot out and hit the shadow. There was a screaming noise, and then it dissipated.


    Morpheus blinked. "-um, that happens."


    "Yeah, I''ve kind of learned to use my power on my own," said Kiyora.


    "Maybe so," said Morpheus. "But you should probably still use the staff."


    "Why?" asked Kiyora.


    "Because when used, that rod naturally focuses your innate dreamer power into it. It allows you to wield it much more efficiently," said Morpheus. "You must have a truly immense amount of dreamer power to be able to kill nightmares without a focus."


    "I''m the Dreaming Goddess," said Kiyora. "People focus on me."


    "I can''t pass you on your first test until you use the rod," said Morpheus. "Now, could you just say the words?"


    "Wait, so you teach me to use the rod while I''ma nightmare is attacking me?" asked Kiyora.


    "You were in no real danger," said Morpheus. "Like I said, nightmares don''t kill at this level. And if you''d really needed help, I could have intervened."


    "So you have powers," asked Kiyora.


    "Yes. All mascots are equipped with power enough to destroy lesser nightmares," said Morpheus. "Just in case inexperienced Dream Sages get into trouble."


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora. "Do I have to invoke the name of Alchara?"


    "Yes," said Morpheus. "That''s the code word."


    "Well, it could be worse, I guess," said Kiyora. "I could be invoking the name of Ictargo."


    "That''s a little harsh," noted Morpheus.


    Kiyora took a stance and raised the staff with the sun symbol pointed away from her. "''By the Power of Alchara, I will smite you!''"


    Suddenly, Kiyora found herself being drawn upward. Her arms were pulled back to either side of her. Light surrounded her entire body, and she felt her clothes disappear. Onto her torso crept a blue corset, which showed off a lot of cleavage. She felt something like a crown on her head, and her hair was tied behind her head in two buns. Long blue gloves were now on her hands, and her pants were replaced with a black miniskirt. Her legs were bare except for a pair of blue leggings, and on her feet were a pair of high heels.


    Kiyora landed as the light faded and looked at her outfit. She realized she was blushing. "Well, this is uh... why the miniskirt exactly?"


    "Style points," said Morpheus.


    "Couldn''t I have battle armor or flowing robes?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, flowing robes might trip you up," said Morpheus. "And battle armor would make it harder to pursue nightmares."


    "What about pants?" asked Kiyora.


    "Um..." Morpheus paused, "style points?"


    "I feel like a prostitute," said Kiyora, feeling somewhat inadequate at the same time. "How do I get out of this? Can I get my clothes back?"


    "Raise the rod and say, ''Let the power of Alchara be returned.''" said Morpheus.


    Kiyora could not raise her staff fast enough. "''Let the power of Alchara be returned.''" The light reappeared, and she was raised into the hair. Her hair went free again, her pants and shirt returned, and she no longer had to wear that stupid tiara. She landed. "So how is this Alchara''s power exactly? Isn''t it my own?"


    "It is your own," said Morpheus. "But children who become Dream Sages are gifted with great powers. The creator of all Dreamer Elves, Alchara, gives them."


    "Except not really," said Kiyora. "The Department of Bloodlines has been breeding powerful Dreamers."


    "Yes, but the Department of Bloodlines was created and is directed by Emperor Ictargo," said Morpheus. "And Ictargo reports to Alchara."


    "Okay, but there is a difference between shuffling paperwork and bestowing divine powers," noted Kiyora. "Especially on children."


    "Actually, there isn''t," said Morpheus. "The gods use many means to achieve their ends. Alchara bestows the power of the dreamer through marriages rather than gifts. Is it truly so different?"


    "Yes," said Kiyora.


    "How?" asked Morpheus.


    "Well, I mean... in another world, there is this god, Elranor," said Kiyora. "He gives his powers to people who prove themselves. If someone gets their powers from him, they have earned them. You have to prove yourself worthy of powers before he gives them. Giving powers to kids seems like a recipe for disaster."


    "Alchara has means of restraining them," said Morpheus. "They may have dreamer powers. But she can choose not to unlock them, should they prove unsuitable in one life or another."


    "Yeah, but what is the benefit of giving someone powers at birth? As opposed to giving them when they prove themselves?" asked Kiyora.


    "You ask many questions, don''t you?" asked Morpheus.


    "Yeah, yeah, I do," said Kiyora. "Do you answer them?"


    "The truth is that Alchara lost much of her power before the Dreamer Elves even existed," said Morpheus. "You know the human king, Anoa the Butcher? He was only the beginning of a period called the Great Calamity. Elven realms across the world were devastated. Alchara was forced to expend much of her power to save them.


    "When Alchara bestows power on certain bloodlines. She can increase that power by controlling whom they marry. Giving powers costs her much more. Elranor can do it because he is immensely powerful and has some power to burn."


    "Okay," said Kiyora. "Wait, so if Alchara lost most of her power before the Dreamer Elves existed, why did she create us?"


    "The answer is a bit complicated," said Morpheus. "Ordinarily, when a soul dies, one of three things happens. First, they are found worthy and pass to the forest of Alchara to dwell in her domain. Second, they are not yet worthy and are reincarnated. Third, they are cast out into hell if they have performed great evil.


    "Well, things got bad during the Great Calamity. So many elves were killed that there was no way they could all be reincarnated. Not enough of them were being born. So Alchara created the Dreamer Elves, a new race from the souls of all those killed."


    "Hadn''t her power diminished?" asked Kiyora.


    "Creating the Dreamer Elves is what did much of the diminishing," admitted Morpheus.


    "That makes sense," said Kiyora. "Well, it looks like I got a history lesson from this, at least. Why isn''t any of this taught in schools?"


    "Alchara prefers this world to operate on a need-to-know basis," said Morpheus. "What you read in class is only the surface of a much longer history." He turned and began to walk away. "Come on, if you''re quick, you might be able to get back to school in time."


    "Huzzah," said Kiyora. "I''ll try to contain my glee."


    "Glad you''re so enthusiastic about your education!" said Morpheus.


    Kiyora wondered if she could find those kids again.

 Chapter 341 - Three: Ghosts of the Past

    A stiff wind blew through Kiyora''s blue hair as she returned to the front of Reya''s house. She waited there for a few minutes. Eventually, Reya came out of the door with a book bag. Her short green hair had been hastily combed, and several ends were sticking up.


    "Oh, Kiyora," said Reya, "have you been waiting for me all this time? It''s nearly noon."


    "No," said Kiyora, "I just got here."


    "Right, right, okay," said Reya. "Let''s keep moving."


    They walked together in silence for a while. Reya looked at Kiyora with tired eyes as they walked, only to look away suddenly. Kiyora had realized that Reya was quite pretty in her way. She wondered if Reya thought she was pretty.


    "Kiyora," she said, "why are you walking so late?"


    "I uh," said Kiyora, "I''ll tell you later. You feeling okay?"


    "I''m fine," said Reya. "I just... for some reason, I couldn''t get up this morning. I had some really bad dreams. I felt like I was being chased across a barren wasteland, and no matter where I looked, I couldn''t find a place to hide."


    "Well, I''m sure they''ll be gone tonight." said Kiyora, trying to sound cheerful.


    "I hope so," said Reya.


    They made it just in time for lunch. The school building had finally been fully reconstructed. The incident with the vines was nearly forgotten. Now, there was a whole new gymnasium. The path leading up to the front gate had had the tiles replaced.


    "Well," said Reya, "at least we don''t have to deal with any crowds?"


    "I just hope we don''t have to stay after school," said Kiyora.


    The two of them entered the cafeteria way to the cafeteria. Within, they found lunch was just beginning. They sat down at the table across from the others. Laurus was sitting next to Gisora. He''d cut his long hair short lately, so he didn''t look as much like William as before. His hands were clasped in front of him as he talked about one conspiracy theory or another. Gisora was as pretty as ever and had slightly grown her hair. The two of them seemed to be speaking, keenly interested in some conversation.


    Last, Tenius wasn''t speaking at all, merely sitting and listening. He looked absurdly ordinary despite being the God Emperor Ictargo in mortal form. In a handsome sort of way, of course.


    The three of them looked up as Kiyora and Reya sat down.


    "Kiyora, where were you?" asked Gisora. "The teacher just said you had an excused absence. And Reya, since when have you been late for school?" Gisora was taller than Reya but had the same kind of dye.


    "Um, I guess I stayed up too much," said Reya.


    "What about you?" asked Laurus. "And what''s with the cat? Are those wings."


    Kiyora looked up and saw that Morpheus. The cat had leaped onto the table and curled itself up. Why did he have to appear now? "Well, you know how I applied to become a Dream Sage?"


    "You mean you got in?" asked Gisora. "That''s great, Kiyora! Congratulations!" She clapped her on the back.


    "So what was your first day like?" asked Tenius.


    "She hunted down a nightmare. She did pretty well for a rookie," said Morpheus.


    There was a stunned silence.


    "We''re... not really rookies," said Laurus.


    "Well, you aren''t Laurus," said Reya. "You''ve seen all kinds of crazy stuff. Why am I never around for them?"


    "Wait, can that cat talk?" asked Tenius.


    "I''m not exactly a cat," said Morpheus. "It would be more accurate to call me a guardian spirit taking the form of a cat. I''m in charge of helping the various Dream Sages in their tasks. And also surveying potential Dream Sage candidates."


    "Why haven''t we seen you before then?" asked Laurus.


    "I''m not supposed to show myself to ordinary people," said Morpheus. "Not until I''m in the company of a Dream Sage anyway."


    "Mind if I ask you something then?" asked Kiyora.


    "No, not at all," said Morpheus.


    "Where were you?" asked Kiyora. "When Laughing Wraith was on his rampage?"


    Morpheus shifted nervously. ''Laughing Wraith was unique among the nightmares. Only the most experienced of Dream Sages could contend with his will. And we didn''t want to send rookies after him. So, we tried to bring in the elites. But when he took control of the Capital''s military, he cut us off completely.


    "We nearly lost some of our best and brightest."


    "But Kiyora was a rookie," said Gisora. "Actually, she wasn''t even that. She was a civilian. Why could she fight Laughing Wraith?"


    "Well..." began Morpheus.


    "Because I''ve been using my powers in my dreams for years, Reya," said Kiyora. "I was already pretty experienced."


    "That is true," admitted Morpheus. "But most dreamers would still have difficulty with Wraith. In your case, you have an exceptional amount of power."


    "Then why start me off with something that weak?" asked Kiyora.


    "Wait, so you''ve already done a mission?" asked Gisora. "What was it like?"


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Oh, a nightmare was possessing Reya," said Kiyora. "I had to drive it off."


    "Nightmare?" asked Reya.


    "When we say nightmare, we mean an unholy creation of negative energy," said Morpheus. "Not a bad dream."


    "You didn''t answer my question," said Kiyora.


    "Standard procedure," said Morpheus. "Also, these things tend to go in cycles. When you have a crisis and beat it back the world quiets down for a bit. Then, the darkness creeps back in. Well, unless the dark wins, but that takes a long time to happen.


    "We call those Darkened Worlds."


    "So, does anyone else here have the potential to be a Dream Sage?" asked Reya in interest.


    "I''m not sure I should say," said Morpheus. "I don''t want to interfere with your choices."


    "Well, anyway, did you hear the news?" asked Laurus.


    Warning bells went off in Kiyora''s mind. "No, and I don''t want to."


    "What?" said Laurus.


    "Laurus, you bring up one of your conspiracy theories. And every time you talk us into investigating," said Kiyora. "Then some sort of nightmarish horror appears beyond the veil of time and space. Then I get dragged into it, and everyone has a bad time.


    "I''m not doing it again."


    "Yeah, but every time we investigate something, we throw a spanner into the works," said Laurus. "Whatever that plan happens to be. Me getting us involved led to you saving the city from Laughing Wraith. It also led to you saving all the prisoners of Rioletta and freeing the Black Star." S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your investigations have indeed led to a great deal of fruit, Kiyora," said Morpheus.


    "Maybe you should listen to him."


    "I''m fine with it," said Gisora.


    "Easy for you to say, Gisora," said Kiyora. "You haven''t had nearly the time of it I have."


    "I''d uh..." Reya paused. "I''d like to take a break from investigations."


    "Well, I want to investigate," said Laurus. "That makes the vote two on two on."


    "No, it doesn''t," replied Kiyora. "That makes the vote two on one. The talking cat doesn''t count."


    "I think my opinion should be counted," said Morpheus.


    "You''re new, so no, your opinion doesn''t count," said Kiyora.


    "I think we should check it out," said Tenius. Had he made a decision?


    "Why Tenius?" asked Kiyora.


    "I don''t know," admitted Tenius. "I just get the feeling something important is happening. And it can''t hurt to listen. Besides, they''re just going to investigate on their own."


    "...Fine then," said Kiyora. "What is the news?"


    "People have been seeing ghosts," said Laurus.


    "Ghost stories?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Laurus. "Elves, dwarves, giants, satyrs. I''ve read news stories of a dozen places that have reported them. They walk the halls of graveyards and other places. They were listless with toothless mouths agape. And those who look into their eyes lose their souls."


    Reya huddled up next to Kiyora.


    "Stop trying to scare us, Laurus," said Gisora.


    "I''m just kidding around with that last part," said Laurus. "In all seriousness, every newspaper I''ve checked has had something on-"


    Suddenly, there was a screeching noise from the halls. People stood up, and their faces went pale as it reached their ears. Several people fell over spasming.


    "What the hell is that noise?" asked Laurus.


    Kiyora felt something. A familiar presence. "I''ve heard that sound before," she said. "In the Iron Kingdom."


    "Where?" asked Laurus.


    Kiyora stood up and ran. Her rod was in her hand as she ran toward the screeching. Rounding a corner, she saw a horde of spirits approaching. Their mouths were wide, and their eyes were flaming blue. Moans of agony and despair came from them, and standing before them made Kiyora feel cold. It was like the life was being drained out of her.


    "Kiyora, quick, use your rod!" said Morpheus. "Quickly, before it is too late!"


    Kiyora raised the rod. "''By the Power of Alchara, I will smite you!''"


    Once again, the transformation took place. Kiyora tried to hide her humiliation as she wore the ridiculous outfit again. Laurus was nearby. He raised an eyebrow.


    "Is that a-" he began.


    "Shut up," said Kiyora.


    Then, spinning the ride around, she felt the power of Alchara within her. Soon, the rod transformed into a sword that shone with all the rainbow colors. The specters came at her, but she swung it.


    A wave of multicolored energy flowed toward the ghosts. They screeched a final time before it consumed them. Yet more came behind them. Kiyora slashed through two more, and four came to replace them. One grabbed her from behind, but she bashed it away with the pommel of her weapon.


    Spinning the sword, she sent waves of rainbows around her to consume all of them. Finally, the hall was clear of them. Morpheus appeared. "Come quick, Kiyora. To the roof!"


    Kiyora followed him as he ran and scaled up several flights of stairs before exiting the roof. Here, there were many more ghosts. They rushed at her, but Kiyora wielded the rainbow waves like a whip to slash them down.


    More and more specters came at her, no matter how many she killed. Eventually, they slowed and then retreated into the sky. Soon, they began to form together, their spectral forms combining into a sphere of spirits. Then that spear grew toeless legs and fingerless arms.


    "Kiyora, use your finisher!" said Morpheus.


    "Finisher?" asked Kiyora.


    "Look deep within yourself," said Morpheus. "The power is yours."


    Doing it was as natural as breathing. Kiyora found herself getting into character. Raising her sword, a globe of multicolored energy formed above the tip. A wind shot through her hair, sending it flying around her.


    The specter descended toward her.


    "Rainbow Justice Slash!" she cried.


    Then she swung her sword. The globe lashed outward and hit the creature. There were a million unholy shrieks, and then the creatures were withdrawn. Then Kiyora hesitated. She turned around and saw the others.


    She felt mortified.


    "Rainbow what?" said Laurus.


    "What?" said Kiyora. "I thought I''d get into the spirit of things?"


    "That was awesome!" said Reya.


    "Yeah," said Gisora, "but what is with the outfit?"


    "Um... uh... Dream Sage business," said Kiyora, raising the sword and turning it back into a rod.


    "Shut up. ''Let the power of Alchara be returned.''" Her clothes returned to normal. "Seriously, Morpheus, is there any way I can change these to a different outfit?"


    "I don''t really see the problem," said Morpheus. "Showing off your legs is an excellent way to attract a potential husband."


    "I don''t want a husband," said Kiyora. "Anywhere where did these ghosts come from?"


    "I don''t know." admitted Morpheus "I have a wide area of operation. But usually, when specters are summoned, they are called in at places where a lot of dead bodies are. Like a graveyard or a mortuary."


    "Then why don''t we check out all the graveyards and look for anything unusual?" asked Gisora.


    "That sounds like a good idea to me," said Morpheus.


    "Um, that''s kind of pointless," said Kiyora.


    "What do you mean?" asked Morpheus.


    "Well, some of those specters were giants and satyrs," said Kiyora. "None of them have ever been allowed in Ascalon from the beginning of the Empire, let alone buried here."


    "Good point. Raising a specter requires a body," said Morpheus. "Or a soul. This means that whoever did this has access to either belonging to giants or satyrs. A well-practiced necromancer, I''ll bet. I''ll have to consult someone on the subject."


    "Souls," said Kiyora. Then things clicked into place. "Oh, son of a bitch. It''s Arraxia."

 Chapter 342 - Four: Baltoths Hospitality

    That night, as Kiyora dreamed, she appeared within the domain of Queen Dawn. She found the elf queen sitting at a desk of living wood, scratching out notes on parchment. She looked up as Kiyora approached. And Kiyora saw the Goddess Alchara manifest within her.


    "Dreaming Goddess," said Dawn, "what do I owe the pleasure."


    "I think you already know, Alchara," said Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Dawn. "Yes, I do." She rang a bell, and the door revealed a white-clad elf girl. She had violet hair tied up into a ponytail, and her eyes were violet. Her skin was darker than most high elves, and she looked too chipper for Kiyora''s liking. "Twilight would you bring water for myself and my guest."


    "Of course, Queen Dawn, I''ll get it right away. Anything you want." The door shut. Dawn motioned to the seat. "Please, sit down."


    "Thank you," said Kiyora, complying.


    There was a long, awkward silence. During this time, Twilight returned and brought them both water. Kiyora sipped hers and found it tasted light and strange. However, it was alright by any means. Dawn did the same, and they were silent for a while more.


    "Well, we have a problem," said Dawn at last.


    "Aren''t you going to chide me for letting Arraxia get the Void Stone?" asked Kiyora.


    "No," said Dawn. "This is better than the alternative. If Melchious'' plans had succeeded, everyone in the Iron Kingdom would die. He would be wielding the Axe of Fortenex and the Void Stone and be poised to cause untold carnage in other lands.


    "All things considered, this is certainly the lesser evil."


    "Oh," said Kiyora. "Okay."


    "Contrary to what you''ve told yourself, I am not unreasonable," said Dawn. "Now there comes the question of what we can do about it."


    "We aren''t starting a war. Not unless we have to," said Kiyora. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I am well aware," said Dawn. "And that was not my first thought either. The Void Stone would give Arraxia a great advantage against any army. No, we must make a quest."


    "A quest?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Dawn. "Three companions who will go forth by stealth and steal the Void Stone from Arraxia and bring it back here."


    "Sounds very poetic," said Kiyora. "Why three?"


    Dawn remained silent for a long moment. "Only three people volunteered whom I considered up to the task. Sir Anias Evensen, whom you defeated with Baltoth''s Retribution. My student, Twilight, and her companion."


    "Whose the third companion?" asked Kiyora.


    "...A wolf of some significant lineage," admitted Alchara, sounding a bit embarrassed.


    "So why is Twilight so qualified?" asked Kiyora.


    "She is my finest student," said Dawn. "With great potential in magic. However, she needs more experience in the outside world. More importantly, she''s also sterile, so her less would not be as serious as another female."


    "Right, of course," said Kiyora. "You sure you don''t want to spend more? Don''t get me wrong, I''m sure the satyrs will appreciate the snack, but there are many of them."


    "They will be given the Goldenwood Harp," said Alchara.


    The Goldenwood Harp? Kiyora hadn''t forgotten that used to be William''s. "Hey, can I have that back when this is over?"


    "No," said Alchara.


    "Oh, come on," said Kiyora. "I''m giving you the Void Stone."


    "Which no moral creature could ever use," said Alchara. "It is a liability. My harp is a great asset."


    "Point," mused Kiyora. "But what good is the harp going to do?"


    "The harp greatly enhances the power of any spell channeled through it," said Alchara. "Twilus can send weaker-willed creatures to sleep. If she can get to Baltoth''s Retribution, she should be able to send those guarding it into a deep slumber."


    "Okay, that sounds cool. But no way I''ll work on Arraxia," said Kiyora.


    "Well then, it is fortunate that your will and hers are bound in Baltoth''s Retribution," said Alchara. "When Twilight casts her spell, you can interfere with her resisting power."


    "Oh, good idea," said Kiyora. "So, wasn''t Evensen a general last time we met?"


    "He was," said Alchara, voice cold. "Then he was utterly defeated in a humiliating rout. Without inflicting a single casualty on the enemy."


    "Good point," admitted Kiyora. She''d probably fire him, too.


    "He''s trying to redeem himself," said Alchara. "Since he is one of my best swordsmen, I''m giving him a chance. Would you care to meet them?"


    "Well, I guess I could," mused Kiyora. Then she remembered the invitation from the Calishans. Moreover, she realized how little she wanted to spend time with the high elves. "But uh, frankly, I''ve got a party to go to in Calisha, so..."


    "Yes, why would you be concerned with a quest whose outcome could affect all of Seathorius?" said Alchara.


    "Look, I''ve been working to overcome Arraxia for the past year and a half, okay," said Kiyora. "I need a break. Besides, you picked them. It''s not like I''m your superior. I''m sure they can handle it."


    "By all means," said Dawn. "Leave the matter in my hands. I''m sure there will be fewer mistakes this way anyway."


    "Glad you agree," said Kiyora. She finished her drink. "Thanks for the water." Then she willed herself away.


    She found Bjorn in the midst of sacrificing a goat on her altar. Bjorn halted the downward stab of the knife. "Dreaming Goddess, I realize this is likely to be very important. But perhaps you could wait until after your ceremony is done?"


    "Right," said Kiyora. "I''ll just wait here."


    The goat was sacrificed, and the meat burned in a fire. Afterward, Bjorn cleaned off his hands and approached her. "Now, what can I do to help you, Dreaming Goddess?"


    "That stone I gave you," said Kiyora. "Anything suspicious about it?"


    "Nothing of the sort," said Bjorn. "It is designed to give the one who holds it a clear fix on the Captial City of Calisha, Ruscow. That is all."


    "Great," said Kiyora. "I need it."


    "Of course," said Bjorn, removing the stone from a pocket. "Here it is."


    Kiyora took it. "Thanks." Then, she focused on the stone. It drew her out, and suddenly, she was floating high above Ruscow.


    It was magnificent. Hundreds of crystal domes reached into the sky. There were seven hills around the city, and each one had a great spire upon it. Thousands upon thousands of people busied themselves. She could hear music from the streets, and in the city''s squares, there were many colorful tents.


    Then she saw the palace. And what a palace it was. The top of its white-domed towers had prisms of crystal upon them. They caught the morning light and reflected them against other prisms. In this way, the entire top of the castle seemed to be ablaze with light.


    She landed on a balcony and found someone waiting for her. He was like a man, but he had the head of an orange cat. He was dressed in flowing blue and purple robes and wore a turban upon his head. There was a jewel upon his brow, and he nodded to her.


    "Queen Dreamer, we have awaited your arrival."


    "Glad to hear it," said Kiyora. "But I don''t know where you got the name "Queen Dreamer." The title is "Dreaming Goddess." Or just Kiyora, or maybe Queen Yagos."


    "I apologize. I was using the old name," said the catman. "I am Suloth, Son of Emperor Baltoth, and it is my great pleasure to welcome you to the Festival of the Hearth. Or what will soon be the Festival."


    "Thanks, I guess," said Kiyora. "But why did you invite me? And don''t Calishans usually speak through servants?"


    "It was an order from my father," said Suloth. "As for servants, I regard us as equals. My Empire is larger. However, you are a goddess."


    "Well, thanks, I guess," said Kiyora.


    "I am glad you appreciate it," said Suloth. "Have you yet eaten?"


    "No," admitted Kiyora. "I am kind of hungry, though."


    "Then I shall have a meal for you," said Suloth. He opened the door behind him and led her into a room. And even though Kiyora had not seen any command, spoken servants entered with many fine foods. Suloth sat down on a round table upon a cushion. He motioned for Kiyora to sit down, and she did, trying to imitate his cross-legged position. "And we may speak of many things. No wine, I''m afraid.


    "No true Calishan drinks it."


    "You don''t?" asked Kiyora. "Why not?"


    "Alcohol bewitches the mind," said Suloth. "Prolonged us turns even the most upstanding men into drains on society. It is also bad for the health of the populace. Father regards anything which addicts a man as a plague."


    "What about malas?" asked Kiyora.


    "Malas is different," said Suloth. "Enhancing magical power is too great a boon to ignore completely. Thus, we have a strict system of distribution among the military. Addiction is punishable by death.


    "Please, eat."


    Kiyora did eat. She guessed talk of execution ought to put her off her food. But she''d become desensitized to horrors by now. And anyway, the food was delicious. There were steamed lamb and spices here that she''d never tasted in Seathorius or elsewhere. However, she didn''t eat much while in her dreams.


    "I have a question," said Kiyora. "I looked out at the landscape, and I didn''t see any snow. But it''s winter where I''m from."


    "We have agreements with Herus," said Suloth. "During the Festival of the Hearth, all the snow in our land is melted away."


    "That sounds handy," said Kiyora. "This is a really beautiful city you have."


    "My father built it in ancient days," said Suloth. "It was on the ruins of Valranor''s old stronghold. And we have improved it for thousands of years.


    "When we have finished, if you wish, I shall arrange for someone to show you the city."


    "I would like that," said Kiyora. "But, I could probably look through things myself."


    "Your pardon, Dreaming Goddess, but that would be unacceptable. In the heart of Calisha, it is against courtesy for women to walk unaccompanied," said Suloth.


    "I''m a Goddess," said Kiyora. "I can take care of myself."


    "I am well aware," said Suloth. "However, I do not want to cause a stir. Even the children of Baltoth follow his laws. For all are subject to him, save Baltoth himself."


    "Wait, so Baltoth doesn''t follow his own rules?" asked Kiyora.


    "My Father maintains that as the creator of the laws of Calisha, he cannot be subject to them," said Suloth. "Since he is a god, no one questions him."


    "Right, um, shouldn''t I meet with him first?" asked Kiyora.


    "Unfortunately, my father has not set foot in Ruscow for over seventeen years," said Suloth. "He has taken on a mortal form, and I am in charge of the day-to-day affairs in Calisha."


    "Why''d he do that?" asked Kiyora.


    "Several reasons," said Suloth. "Chiefest among them is defying fate."


    "What fate?" asked Kiyora.


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    Suloth smiled. "Well, that is a long story."


    "I''d say we''ve got time," said Kiyora.


    "Very well," said Suloth. "How shall I put this? Many ages ago, Baltoth conquered Calisha and subjugated the Dust Elves. In those days, Anoa the Bright was still carving out the Kingdom of Harlenor. Many great wars were raging throughout them.


    "Well, after his coronation, Father went to the Oracle of Laevian far away in Themious. And he learned that his might would be unassailable for many generations. However, ultimately, he would be slain by the line of Anoa the Bright."


    "So he killed Anoa the Bright?" guessed Kiyora.


    "What? No, Anoa the Bright never died," said Suloth. "Or at least we don''t know how he died. The Harlenorians believe he ascended into Heaven. I don''t believe it. The man was a monster. Even Elranor had trouble keeping him in line."


    "I''ve got friends who regard him as the greatest king who ever lived," said Kiyora, thinking of William.


    "Well, of course, they do," said Suloth. "He''s their founder. No one wants to believe that their founder built their nation over the corpses of the innocent. But they did. The best that could be said for Anoa was that he was a product of his time.


    "Purges and genocides were commonplace back then. He got all the different weaker factions to put aside their differences. Thus, they all focus on killing elves instead of each other.


    "Nothing like that ever happened in Calisha. When Baltoth took over, there were no attempts to eradicate the Dust Elves. Those that survived were simply told to leave."


    Kiyora wasn''t sure she believed him. She would probably want to cover up her misdeeds if she were a vicious tyrant. "Did you ever meet Anoa the Bright?"


    "Once," admitted Suloth. "I was very young, and he was very old. Eleanor had just finished scolding him. You see, the elves he decimated had begun to rebuild their lives, and he couldn''t stand that any of them could be happy. He wanted to destroy the last of them. But Elranor stopped him. Afterward, he ''ascended into Heaven.'' I guess that Elranor had his son kill him and covered it up. That is what I would have done. Anoa II was a far better king than his father."


    "Okay, but whom did Baltoth kill to get the eternal hatred of Harlenor?" asked Kiyora.


    "Anoa the IX. Nice enough, fellow," said Suloth. "A decent war leader. But he wasn''t a very good king, and his generals didn''t like it. He went to try to drive Melchious out of Seathorius at the request of the Nakmar. The campaign was inconclusive, with neither side being able to beat the other. Eventually, Anoa had to withdraw to put down a rebellion.


    "Father saw his chance and took a force of his immortals from Artarq. Using Baltoth''s Retribution, he caught up to Anoa, ambushed, and killed him. Thus died the line of Anoa the Bright. Harlenor fragmented into many warring states. They ended up being put back together into three Kingdoms. And a variety of lesser realms, such as Estal and Gel Carn. However, those are usually subject to one of the Three Kingdoms."


    "So why did Baltoth take mortal form?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, that is an interesting story in its own right," mused Suloth. "We received news that Anoa IX may have had some descendants. If that were the case, then they might, in time, reclaim the Throne of Harlenor United, as they call it, and slay him.


    "So he has taken a mortal form. He''ll resume his true nature if he is killed while in that form. The only cost will be a small power loss, the prophecy will be fulfilled, and we''ll be unharmed."


    "Why didn''t he just do that before?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, for one thing, Calisha wasn''t always as stable as it is now," said Suloth. "If Father walked away from his throne without someone he could trust. There might not be one when he returned. For another, he was hoping that Harlenor would fall entirely to pieces. Then, he''d be able to conquer it piecemeal.


    "Unfortunately, the only thing the Harlenorians could agree on was a hatred for us. So we''ve just had one war after another. It''s quite tragic."


    They continued their breakfast, and Kiyora asked many other questions. She learned that in Calisha, it had initially been the custom to take more than one wife if you could afford it. However, these days, even kings are not allowed to do so. It was forbidden for anyone to practice polygamy.


    "How is it right for Baltoth to have thousands of affairs but for men to be beheaded for unfaithfulness?" asked Kiyora.


    "My Father''s affairs serve a very practical and instrumental purpose," said Suloth. "They create demigods who may, in turn, become great assets to Calisha. They also allow many other benefits that I should not go into. Father has forbidden spreading the full details of his power. Suffice to say it would be impossible to have the same efficiency level. Not without those liaisons."


    Kiyora let it pass and asked about other things. Instead, she turned the subject to the law. Here, she learned that Baltoth was very ruthless in dealing with criminals.


    "So you crucify people for thieving?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Suloth. "Although sometimes people are allowed to go on quests to redeem themselves. Or join the military under a geas. For more serious crimes, such as patricide or matricide, we have harsher punishments. "


    "Isn''t that a bit harsh?" asked Kiyora. "How does crucifixion fit the crime of stealing an apple?"


    "It does not," said Suloth. "However, if a man knows that stealing an apple will get him a slow and painful death, he is far less likely to do so. Thus, there is very little crime in Calisha. Personal justice is all well and good. However, Baltoth''s primary concern is that society functions without corruption.


    "The worst punishments are reserved for treason and cowardice in the face of the enemy."


    "Okay," said Kiyora, "so you punish people harshly as an example to the rest."


    "Indeed," said Suloth. "Men are not crucified for their crime, but that others will not commit that same crime. How is it that you deal with crime?"


    "I don''t," said Kiyora. "Mostly, I let the Nakmar run their affairs. Everyone knows everyone in their communities, so they usually sort things out personally. I help them when they need it. Occasionally, I also make alliances and give them orders for their good. But I''m pretty loose in keeping control of them."


    "Ah," said Suloth, "that policy has its virtues. We pursue a similar approach when we first gain control of new territory. However, as generations go by, we introduce more of our laws and customs.


    "There is a flaw in that approach, you see. If they are bound to us only by tribute, they will not consider themselves a Calisha member. Instead, they think of themselves as whatever race or ethnic group they belong to. Thus, if Calisha ever suffered a great setback, they would be too swift to leave us.


    "Yet if they think of themselves as Calishan first, they will stand with us. Even when there is a great hardship."


    "What if they resent the fact that you brutalize them for the smallest crimes?" asked Kiyora.


    "Crime is very low in Calisha," said Suloth. "Baltoth has ways of rooting out all those who are corrupt or neglectful of their duties. Some suffer and die; it is true. However, there is almost no corruption. Resources are fairly evenly distributed.


    "All citizens of Calisha pay a certain tax according to their income to feed and clothe the poor. Including myself, I might add."


    "Right," said Kiyora, "so how many people have you crucified this week?"


    "None," said Suloth. "We don''t do executions during festivals. We find it darkens the mood."


    "Ever consider giving out a pardon or two?" asked Kiyora.


    "You sound like my sister, Safara," said Suloth with a smile. "She''s eccentric. She likes to talk to people without a servant. Calishans do not give pardons. When a crime is committed, the one responsible must pay for it. There are no exceptions. If there were, others would follow in their footsteps.


    "You ask many questions about our legal system."


    "Well, I''ve been told by Harlenorians that a Dark Lord leads you, people. The sort who sits on a throne of skulls," said Kiyora. "I figured I''d hear your side of things."


    "Ah yes," said Suloth. "No, Baltoth never had a throne of skulls. That is more his brother''s preference."


    "Baltoth has a brother?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Suloth. "He is Fortenex, the Demonic Archon of Wrath, and he is the younger. There has been bad blood between them since my grandfather died."


    "Your grandfather?" asked Kiyora. "Who was he?"


    "He was the King of Hell, Diabolus," said Suloth. "The Supreme Lord of all demons. He is less impressive than he sounds. He is obsessed with suffering and torment."


    "Isn''t Baltoth?" asked Kiyora.


    "In a different way," said Suloth. "Baltoth uses suffering and torment to achieve a robust and stable society. It is for the benefit of those who dwell in it and Baltoth, though not all know it. Diabolus tormented people for his own sake. Subordinates were killed not just for failure but also for partial success.


    "He was grossly incompetent. Far more concerned with hurting people than any practical plan for universal domination."


    "So what happened to him?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Gods had a stalemate with him for ages," said Suloth. "Then Elranor allied with Zigildrazia, my aunt. They cooperated to create an object of great power. The Heaven''s Eye. It was a nexus of holy energy, and Elranor used it to break Diabolus'' spirit.


    "After Grandfather was thrown from power, Baltoth and Fortenex quarreled over strategy. Baltoth saw the virtues of the mortal races as the best hope for defeating Elranor. He would wield them to build an unstoppable empire. Fortenex preferred to sew discord and tear down what others built.


    "And all the while, Elranor was rampaging through hell. He destroyed every demon he came across."


    "So what happened to the Heaven''s Eye?" asked Kiyora.


    "Well, there is a rule of the universe that there is an equal and opposite reaction for every action. The trick is channeling it," said Suloth. "Elranor''s rampage throughout hell created a reaction. One that Zigildrazia used to create an equal and opposite gem. The Hellfire Jewel.


    "Within it, she sealed the different fragments of Diabolus'' spirit. Then she used it as a weapon to contest Elranor.


    "The two gems fought. For a while, they were equal in power. Then Karus, the Goddess of Fate, betrayed our side. She arranged for the Hellfire Jewel to be shattered into seven pieces. It was spread across the cosmos. But in so doing, the Heaven''s Eyes powers were also vastly diminished."


    "Wait, who was Karus?" asked Kiyora.


    "A very unpleasant woman," said Suloth. "She was the Goddess of Destiny, Fate, and Choice. And she was more or less a subordinate of the hells, even if she would never admit it. You see, she hated heroism in all forms.


    "Demons today have come to appreciate the heroic narrative. It gives us something to strive against or, in our case, provides a model for gaining greater power. But Karus'' detested it. According to tradition, heroes are granted certain luck. One that allows them to complete their journey so long as they remain heroes. But Karus'' would do things like give the luck of heroes to the murderous usurper. Then she''d punish him for his good deeds.


    "She thought she was being original by making good people miserable failures. Meanwhile, those who were selfish and brutal were hailed as messiahs, usually for partially correcting problems they created.


    The result was dozens of Darkened Worlds and the inclusions of the apocalypse. All those ancient horrors that destroy the world are performing an essential service. They protect the people here from living in a Darkened World."


    "They''re that bad?" asked Kiyora.


    "Worse," said Suloth. "Karus'' dismissed it as natural selection or something along those lines. The other gods disagreed, and she was forced to ally with us to pursue her vision of the cosmos. I''ve never figured out what it was other than hurting people to appease her ego."


    "She doesn''t seem like the sort of person anyone would like," mused Kiyora.


    "You are quite correct," said Suloth. "Which is why Baltoth killed her brutally. From there, Zigildrazia created Rioletta from her corpse. The spider goddess now controls the domain of Fate, while Fate is held by one of my sisters, Farasa."


    "What''s the difference?" asked Kiyora.


    "Fate is what will happen," said Suloth. "Destiny is what you make happen. Last of all, the choice is your decision to make it happen. The three aspects were divided up into a single power after the fact. It was decided that no one could be trusted with the domain, so a Goddess trio was made as a compromise."


    "Who rules choice?" asked Kiyora.


    "No one," said Suloth. "Karus had long-term plans that made a complete mess of the universe''s destiny. The Throne of Choice had the potential to derail those plans. So, she put a great deal of effort into making it inaccessible.


    "Of course, she''s dead, and we know exactly what those plans are. So as soon as her avatar shows itself, we''ll assassinate her, which will be its end."


    "Avatar?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Suloth. "Karus'' poured most of her power into a future avatar. One that had not yet been born when Baltoth invaded her realm. We believe this avatar is the lynchpin of her plan.


    "But it is of no present consequence. What is of consequence is that everyone has had to work overtime. We''ve entire ages compensating for her hubris. So, no one is going to oppose removing her. I''m planning to make a national holiday after I kill her."


    Kiyora paused. "So, the Heaven''s Eye and the Hellfire Jewel. I know the Heaven''s Eye is in Gel Carn. But has anyone ever found the Hellfire Jewel pieces?"


    "Several people, I think, but they aren''t usually worth the effort. Diabolus tends to break his tools once he''s done with them. So, no one is looking," admitted Suloth. "The divine game has changed a great deal since then. There is a great deal more scheming and negotiation than open warfare. In any case, I think it would be futile to gather them all."


    "Why?" asked Kiyora.


    "Because the gems are spiritual twins," said Suloth. "Zigildrazia, the greatest forger in the hells, fashioned both of them. If you were to assemble the Hellfire Jewel, the Heaven''s Eye would attain its full power. And then you''d have the stalemate all over again. One which benefitted no one and assured mutual destruction if they were both used."


    "Hang on, I thought Zigildrazia was the Queen of the Succubi," said Kiyora.


    "She is," said Suloth. "She is also a blacksmith of unparalleled talent. Her hands are masterfully skilled. Only Vrengar and Barden are even close to her."


    "The God of the Dragon Empire, right?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Suloth. "He lives to the south of Harlenor in the Dragon Empire. We have some trade by sea with him but little else. He introduced the mortal races to iron and steelworking." He paused. "Where was I?"


    "Zigildrazia fashioning the two gems," said Kiyora.


    "Ah right." said Suloth. "You know, I''ve never found out how Zigildrazia managed to create the Heaven''s Eye. In theory, such an artifact should have burned her to the touch. To make it would be suicide.


    "But it seems she managed it somehow."


    They finished their meal. As they did, a door opened, and into the room slithered the most beautiful woman Kiyora had ever seen. She seemed to radiate benevolence itself. Her hair was long and red and tied into a long braid that fell around her shoulders. Her eyes were painted black, and her lips the same. Her face was shapely and fair, and her shoulders slender. She was clad only in a gold and red brassiere, which showed off the sides of her enormous breasts. Her waist was thin and led into wide hips. Yet there were no legs, for her lower body resembled a red-scaled snake.


    Kiyora felt her heart beating in her chest. Her mouth was dry. Why was she being affected like this?


    Looking past him, she saw a very handsome guy; he looked about thirty. He wore a black shirt and pants, which could not hide his chiseled physique. His sleeves were short and bared his muscular forearms. His hair was long and black, and he had a square jaw. There was stubble on his face, and he had gray eyes. He looked at Suloth with reservation.


    Alchara above. These two could be dressed in rags and pose as supermodels. And this was coming from an elf.


    "We had heard that there were newcomers, brother," said Safara. "We hoped to come to meet them." She slithered forward and wrapped herself around Suloth. All that bending seemed impossible for her human half. The man who accompanied her nodded to Suloth.


    "King Suloth," said the man.


    "Ah, Prince Aris, Safara," said Suloth. "I was wondering where you were." He motioned to Kiyora. "Safara, this is Queen Dreamora?"


    "Yes," said Kiyora, annoyed. "Though she does not go by that name anymore."


    "My apologies," said Suloth, "that was the name we have been taught to call you by."


    "You look far younger than I had heard you were," noted Safara, slithering away from Suloth. Next, she wrapped herself around Kiyora, getting far too close for comfort. "Why do you take such a youthful guise?"


    Kiyora forced herself to focus on Safara''s face rather than the other assets very near her chin. "I''m a little less than forty. And could you please get off me?"


    "I apologize," said Safara, drawing back.


    "So I know who you are," said Kiyora before looking to Aris. "Where are you from?"


    "I am Prince Aris of Estal," said Aris. "I''ve come here to finalize the peace between my land and Calisha."


    "The agreement was finalized some days ago," said Safara, slithering around Aris. "We have been largely enjoying the festival." She wrapped an arm around Aris and drew far more near than Kiyora was comfortable with.


    "Speaking of which," said Suloth. "Safara, I have several duties I have to attend to. Could you show Queen Dreamer- my apologies. The Dreaming Goddess, around the city?"


    "Of course," said Safara. "It would be my pleasure."


    "Where does that name come from anyway?" asked Kiyora.


    "It was what you were called before Anoa the Bright, of course," said Suloth.


    "I wasn''t even born at the time," noted Kiyora.


    "Well, yes, obviously not," said Safara. "Not as you are now. You must die to be reincarnated."


    "Reincarnation, right," said Kiyora. "Who was I then?"


    "Frankly, we''re not sure I should be the one to say," admitted Suloth. "My information is largely third-hand. I might tell you something that is outright wrong. I suggest you speak with Alchara on the subject. For now, I must go."


    He stood and departed.


    Kiyora looked at Safara. "This place is nice. I mean, I thought the palace of Artarq was beautiful, but Ruscow is on a whole other level."


    "Suloth has always loved beauty. He has built this and many other cities of Calisha in this fashion," said Safara. "But this is only the upper levels of the palace. Let me show you the city and the celebration within."


    Kiyora had a gut feeling that she could trust Safara. That Safara was the nicest person she had ever met. She should have listened to Safara, which made her suspicious.


    She hoped Safara wasn''t another Alchara in the making.

 Chapter 343 - Five: The City of Ruscow

    The streets were filled with all kinds of entertainment. Dancers, acrobats, snake charmers, magicians were all to be seen. People drank freely, and colorful banners were everywhere. As they walked through out the festival, Safara introduced people by name. It soon became apparent that Safara knew everyone.


    And everyone knew her. Hardened mercenaries gave her their full attention. They spoke with courtesy when she was around. Something about her seemed to infect people. Kiyora wondered if Aris was likewise infected.


    The Prince of Estal spoke little as they walked. Yet he regarded the people around him with a hidden distaste. Kiyora wanted to call him on it. But she decided not to. It wasn''t like she''d change his opinion with a speech.


    "Kiyora, have you met Eredian yet?" asked Safara.


    "No," said Kiyora. "Who is he?"


    "Oh, he''s a wonderful man," said Safara. "A baker by trade, you really should try some of his loaves."


    "I guess," said Kiyora.


    "Aris, come with us, please," said Safara.


    Aris followed without a word. They came to a stall where all kinds of bread and other baked goods were on display. A round-faced Calishan looked up and beamed as they approached. Safara waved as she slithered up to him.


    "Lady Safara, it''s been some time since you were last in Ruscow," said the man. "I''m glad to see you here for the festival."


    "I''m glad to be here, Eredian," said Safara. "Tell me, how is your wife? Did she like the gift I sent?"


    "Of course," said Eredian. "They were a Queenly gift. How are affairs in your own home?"


    Safara''s expression darkened. "Baelgost''s manor is pleasant enough. He is almost never there, however. I fear I get lonely sometimes."


    "Ah," said Eredian, "who are these with you?"


    "I''m Kiyora Yagos," said Kiyora. "I''m visiting the city from my homeland."


    "Are the high elves seeking friendship with Calisha?" asked Eredian.


    "I don''t really know," said Kiyora. "I just wanted to see the festival."


    Eredian eyed her for a moment, then looked back to Safara. "Well, I hope there will be peace. My son took a spear to the gut in the attack on Artarq. It nearly cost him his life, but one of the Harlenorians healed him. What was his name? Ah, William Gabriel, isn''t it? It usually is a Gabriel for these sorts of things."


    "What do you mean by that?" asked Kiyora.


    "House Gabriel is known well for its Calishan sympathies," said Aris, speaking for the first time in a while.


    "Yes, I''m told Father holds Duke Vanion in a lot of respect," said Safara, missing the resentment in Aris'' tone.


    Kiyora wasn''t going to let it drop like that. "Yeah, but what did you mean by ''It usually is a Gabriel?'' Duke Vanion hasn''t been the ruler of Artarq all that long."


    "Well, it was in the foundations of their house, so to speak," said Eredian.


    "Sixty years ago, Erik the Voyager came to the shores of Eastern Calisha," said Safara. "In those days, the Empire was involved in a civil war. One of Baltoth''s children, Rammas, had raised the banner of rebellion. There was a great deal of bloodshed in putting it down.


    "So the far eastern provinces weren''t as secure. The realm of Dinis was pressing at the borders, and the Kalthakians were launching raids. Erik did a great many great deeds, including saving a nest of gold dragon eggs from being stolen." She looked up, and her eyes narrowed. "One of them grew up to be Paleth."


    "Whose Paleth?" asked Kiyora.


    "My husband''s protege," said Safara. "A golden dragon of huge size and power. He spends more time with him than with me. See that ridge up there."


    Kiyora looked up at the way she was motioning. On one of the hills surrounding the city, there was a shrine of standing stones. There was a strange glinting light that seemed to duck and weave. There was another humanoid figure darting back and forth. It was as though they were fighting.


    "Yes," said Kiyora.


    "That shimmering light is the sun glinting off of Paleth''s scales. He and Baelgost are training together. They don''t stop, even for the Festival of the Hearth," said Safara.


    Kiyora noticed that she seemed closer to angry than she''d ever seen. "Something has been bugging me, Safara. I have never heard of this festival, or Herus, being worshipped in Harlenor."


    "Well, that is because the God Triumvirate keeps out religions they don''t like. Only they, their allies, and their vassals are allowed to erect statues within. Herus could be of great service in places like Haldren. There, the winter is even colder, but our missionaries are turned away at the borders.


    "Although Antion has proven more open-minded toward other gods. At least since King Andoa II took the throne."


    "What about Viokinar? It''s pretty cold there," said Kiyora.


    "The minotaurs worship only Kreshlak and his wives and suffer no other gods," said Safara. "And the worshippers of Fortenex are likewise. The Iron Kingdom has always sought to root out our worshippers as well. However, since the fall, we have sent them anew.


    "The sea birds tell me that those who worshipped Baltoth were spared the massacre."


    "Thank Alchara," said Kiyora. "I was afraid that only the worshippers of Elranor would survive. If other gods could protect the people, then maybe more survived."


    "We''ll soon know for certain," said Aris. "Calisha is using the truce to launch ships. They mean to make a great expedition to establish colonies in the lands which are now empty."


    "Don''t judge my brother too harshly, Aris," said Safara. "Harlenor has done the same. Duke Vanion has already launched a similar expedition, long prepared in advance. I do not know how he got news of the fall before it happened, but sometimes rumors are true."


    "What rumors?" asked Kiyora.


    "Some say that Duke Vanion has partnered with Melchious," said Aris. "That wherever Melchious sews destruction, Vanion establishes his hold on that land."


    "Duke Vanion would never work with Melchious!" shouted Kiyora despite herself.


    "He has admitted to doing so in the past," said Aris. "And he seems very quick to make alliances with other demons. With no disrespect, Safara."


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "No, I understand," said Safara. "Emperor Baltoth and his children are not like others of his kind. It is perfectly reasonable that you hold them in distrust, Aris."


    "Duke Vanion made a few mistakes," said Kiyora. "But if he were really in an alliance with Melchious, he never would have admitted to what he did in the first place. And anyway, he saved Antion from Duke Borinius."


    "Did he?" asked Aris. "Duke Borinius claimed that he was under a spell from Melchious during his trial? Why should we trust Vanion and not Borinius?"


    "Well, for one thing, Vanion was admitting to guilt," said Kiyora. "Borinius was just trying to foist the blame off on someone else."


    "Every time Melchious strikes, Vanion becomes more powerful. You cannot deny that," said Aris.


    "You''re overthinking it, Aris," said Safara. "Vanion is using the crisis as an opportunity to increase his power. I used to do it all the time. Anyone could do it in his place. He doesn''t have to have made a pact with the demon to do it."


    "Or he''s trying to make things the best for all involved," said Kiyora. "Duke Vanion is a good man."


    "There are no good men regarding state affairs," said Safara sadly. "Friendship is a passing thing; love does not exist, save in me. However, this subject is dull. Let us scale up there. The view is very nice."


    "I don''t think I''ll see anything I haven''t already," admitted Kiyora. "But, I''m game."


    They made their way through the streets of the city and came out from between the high gates of Ruscow. They were gigantic. When Kiyora was standing beneath it, she tried to look up to the top. Her neck was barely able to bend back far enough to see the top.


    Once out of the gates, Kiyora saw the surrounding countryside of Ruscow. Several villages could be seen in the distance, surrounded by stone walls.


    Safara led them along a path up the side of the hill Safara had seen before. Coming to the summit, Kiyora looked east and saw vast plains of snow. It began at the edge of the mountain and stretched out before her. They gleamed in the sunlight. Yet whenever the snow neared a town or village, it stopped abruptly. It was as though a great fire had been lit at the center of each village.


    "Whoa," said Kiyora.


    "That was my reaction when I first saw it as well," said Safara. "It never snowed in what is now called Dinis. This marks the beginning of the plains of Rusun, the lands of the Medi. They stretch for thousands of miles and reach all the way to the land of Kalthak."


    "But you grew up here, didn''t you?" asked Kiyora.


    "No," said Safara. "I was raised in the jungles of the Far East, among my kind. When Father sent for me, I was drawn here."


    "Why did he send for you?" asked Kiyora.


    "So that I might marry my husband, Baelgost," said Safara. "He is the greatest warrior of Calisha and also my brother."


    Kiyora blinked. "You married your brother?


    "I was married to him, yes," said Safara before pointing up to the shrine. It was still above them, and Kiyora realized that the gleaming had halted. "He''s up there at the peak of the ledge."


    "With Paleth," said Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Safara. "Do you wish to meet them?"


    "I guess," said Kiyora.


    They journeyed the rest of the way up the hill and came before the shrine. The shrine was far more extensive than it had looked from the city. Everything in Calisha was larger than life, it seemed. Sitting against one of the stones was a creature that looked very similar to Suloth. Yet his hair was all orange and white, and his eyes red. He was taller and had thicker arms and legs. He wore white scaled armor.


    Near him was a massive creature with the body of a huge golden serpent. It had six clawed, scaly legs. Its scales gleamed brightly in the sun so that looking at him was hard. It was coiled around one of the stone pillars, and smoke was coming from its nostrils. Two dull eyes were looking at the catman.


    They seemed to be speaking to one another in low tones.


    "Isn''t it a bit um..." said Kiyora, "weird marrying your brother?" She''d heard of some screwed-up matches. But they mostly were in the royal court.


    "More than you know," said Safara, "The children of Baltoth all have unique powers and abilities. All based on who their mother was. So, intermarriage between their lines is common. Suloth is ambitious to create a child with all their combined powers and then make them a concubine.


    "Whatever children resulted from such a union would be immensely powerful."


    "That is really sick, you know that," said Kiyora.


    "Baelgost shares the sentiment. It is why our union has been entirely childless," said Safara.


    "Suloth was able to pressure him into accepting the marriage, but he refuses to consummate it."


    "Geeze and I thought I had it bad," muttered Kiyora. "I guess it could be worse. You could be married off to one of Baelgost''s children."


    "He does not have any children. I am his first wife," said Safara. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "And how old is he?" asked Kiyora.


    "I don''t know exactly," admitted Safara. "The records are a bit, and he hasn''t kept track. Somewhere between two and two hundred younger than Suloth."


    "Who remembers Anoa the Bright, the founder of Harlenor," said Kiyora. "How is it possible? You''d think someone in his position of power well..."


    "Baelgost does not enjoy the company of women," said Safara. "At all. He prefers men."


    Kiyora felt a sense of revulsion. "That''s disgusting."


    Safara looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean?"


    "Well... look, men are supposed to be attracted to women," said Kiyora. "Only women are allowed to swing the other way."


    "Swing the other way?" asked Safara.


    "Like their own gender in... that way," said Kiyora, feeling uncomfortable with the subject.


    "May I ask why?" asked Safara.


    "Five out of six Dreamer Elves are female. If a man is into men, then that means five women may never have children," said Kiyora. "Which is the entire point of relationships in the first place."


    "That is a practical objection," mused Safara. "But it does not prove that what you speak of is wrong. Love, in my mind, does not limit itself to any gender or species."


    "That''s a wonderful idea. You are wrong," said Kiyora.


    "Well?" said Baelgost, looking up. "Are you three merely going to whisper, or are you going to speak to us?"


    "Well, it isn''t every day you see someone fighting a dragon in the ruins of a fallen civilization," said Kiyora. "I figured I''d enjoy the view."


    "Cute," said Baelgost. "Paleth, you owe me a heads weight in silver, I believe?"


    "You''ll get your silver Baelgost," said Paleth. "You don''t need to rub it in."


    "You had a bet?" asked Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Baelgost. "Paleth didn''t think you''d show up. I bet that you would."


    "Sorry to disappoint you," said Kiyora.


    "Disappoint?" hissed Paleth. "Hardly. I''m merely out a head weight in silver." And he moved off in a huff. The golden dragon uncoiled himself. He clambered to the edge of the hill and went beyond sight.


    "Don''t take it personally," said Baelgost. "Paleth hates losing money." He looked to Aris. "Aris, I see you are still drawing breath."


    "As are you," noted Aris.


    "Well, what do you expect? Your raids didn''t penetrate nearly deep enough into Calisha," said Baelgost. "And you were always quick to flee when faced with true power."


    "Fine words from one whose armies are like an ocean," said Aris. "Yet Estal has broken many oceans. And had you come there, it would have been your grave."


    "I would relish the opportunity to prove you wrong," said Baelgost with a smile. "Believe me. Alas, peace is the order of the day. And it may last until you are an old man worth no sport."


    "One can only hope that it does not," said Aris.


    Paleth returned, grumbling with a sack of silver coins in his mouth. He tossed it to Baelgost, who caught the bag in hand. "I''ve got your head of silver Baelgost."


    "Why are you so bitter?" asked Baelgost. "You never spend a copper piece of your wealth?"


    "It is mine," said Paleth. "And I cherish it nonetheless."


    "So what are these ruins anyway?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, they''re the remnants of an old temple of Valranor," said Baelgost. "I''ve been hoping we''ll eventually knock it down by accident. Unfortunately, his power still seeps into them, and we haven''t been able to uproot them yet."


    "Why not study them?" asked Kiyora.


    "Valranor doesn''t have anything about him worth studying," said Baelgost. "Unfortunately, there are still cults out there that claim he''s the true Lord of Order. They''re hoping for some destined return when Father dies."


    "What do you think will happen?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''ll get to fight a lot of people," said Baelgost. "If Calisha wins, we''ll burn a lot of towns in Halrenor and kill the Heir of Kings. Then Suloth will take over. If Harlenor wins, they''ll burn down a lot of towns in Calisha and put up a puppet king or something. Then we''ll kill them.


    "Either way, things will go right back to the way they were before, sooner or later. The game of kings and gods always ends in a stalemate."


    Suddenly, Kiyora found herself feeling an urgent call in her mind. It was drawing her away up home. She clutched her head. Something very serious was happening. "Nice. I- Hang on, I''ve got to take this."


    This had better not be another spider demon.

 Chapter 344 - Six: The Battle of the Park

    Kiyora felt the sensation of a paw batting against her face. She opened her eyes and warded off her assailant with one hand before rolling over.


    "Kiyora!" said Morpheus'' voice. "Kiyora, wake up quick!"


    Kiyora sat up and pushed her hair away from her face. Looking at the winged cat, she felt awful. Kind of drained. "What is it, Morpheus!"


    "Nightmares are gathering in the park!" said Morpheus. "You''ve got to come quick! Take up your rod!"


    "Fine, fine," said Kiyora, "let me just get dressed. Which park?"


    "The park!" said Morpheus.


    Kiyora pulled on a pair of brown pants and a baggy white shirt. "There are a lot of parks, Morpheus."


    "I don''t know the name, okay," said Morpheus. "I''m not a GPS. Now come on!"


    Kiyora snatched up her rod and followed Morpheus, who pushed up the window and leaped out of it. His wings fluttered as he scaled down the roof. Kiyora turned, opened the door to her room, and walked down the stairs and out the front door.


    Morpheus looked at her in irritation. "Spoilsport."


    "You were the one who said nightmares weren''t a big threat," said Kiyora.


    Morpheus turned and led her on without a word. As they rushed through the streets, Kiyora thought she heard him grumbling. Eventually, they came to the park, and Kiyora saw the nightmares. There were three of them. They were like the living shadows she had seen in Artarq. But unlike those, she could hear the distant sound of giggling from these.


    Kiyora raised her rod and spoke the words. "''By the Power of Alchara, I will smite you.''"


    Once again, she went through the whole transformation gig. And once again, she held her rainbow sword in hand. Lunging forward, she slashed through one of the nightmares. Another came toward her and hit her.


    Kiyora felt as if everything was pointless. She also felt some fear. Even so, she''d felt far worse and easily slashed through it. The last one tried to flee, but Kiyora swung her sword. A wave of rainbow color spread outward and consumed it.


    "What is so important that you had to wake me up?" asked Kiyora. "I thought you said nightmares weren''t a big..." Something stepped down beside her. "Deal..."


    She turned around and saw a living shadow. However, it seemed to stretch taller than her. It was taller than the roots of Actovosh, taller than the very sky. Two great violet eyes filled with horror stared down at her. Kiyora took a step back.


    It still wasn''t half as terrifying as Laughing Wraith.


    "That," said Morpheus.


    The nightmare slashed downward. Kiyora leaped away as its massive clawed hand hit the ground. It seemed to explode and send forth dozens of smaller claws that raked at her. She slashed several away with her sword, but still, more of them appeared to cut at her. One hit her skirt and was deflected.


    Kiyora summoned her full power and swung her blade. With another rainbow wave, the hands were all destroyed. The nightmare drew back the stump and reeled in pain. Kiyora looked to Morpheus.


    "Where the hell did that thing come from?" she asked.


    "I don''t know, but we''ve got to stop it," said Morpheus. "A nightmare of that level can kill people." Quick Kiyora, use your Rainbow Slash Attack!"


    "I just did," said Kiyora.


    "Calling the attack name enhances the power," said Morpheus.


    "Why?!" roared Kiyora.


    "I don''t know; it just does," said Morpheus. "Now, do it before it''s too late."


    The now three-legged nightmare regained its footing. Its entire body sprouted thousands of tendrils, all rushing at her simultaneously. Kiyora raised her sword, and time seemed to slow to a crawl. Closing her eyes, she summoned the power of Alchara. That power had lain within her for her entire life.


    She opened her eyes and shone with a many-colored light. "Rainbow Justice Slash!"


    Alchara, above, that was a stupid attack name.


    It did work, though. A wave of rainbow light larger than any she had summoned before was unleashed. There was a horrific screech, and the monster recoiled. For a moment, it was a blighting shadow upon a backdrop of many colors. Then it was burned away. However, the sky was still dark.


    Kiyora tossed the sword into the air, triumphant, before reaching up to catch it. She missed the haft and barely managed to avoid cutting off her fingers. Fortunately, the blade turned in midair and plunged into the ground beneath her. She pulled it out.


    "Got it," said Kiyora.


    Then, around her, three more shadows began to form. They grew out of the park as if they were massive trees. Leering faces could be seen in them, only to disappear and be replaced with agonies. They were all around Kiyora, and the shadows soon grew upwards, even larger than the last one. Every light in the city dimmed and then went out. Every star in the sky was quenched. The grass beneath her feet seemed to claw at her.


    Kiyora raised her sword and focused. A light emerged from it, brighter and brighter. The shadows all around her were driven back in a ring. Yet they were still there, tearing at the edges of her vision. "Where did these come from?"


    "These are all greater nightmares," said Morpheus. "We should have detected these forming a long time ago. They must have been brought in from outside. We should wait for reinforcements from the Department of Spiritual Defense."


    "Yeah, that''s great!" said Kiyora. "Shut up so I can kill them!"


    She didn''t have enough power. Not from Alchara. However, Kiyora was also the Dreaming Goddess. That sensation of not being merely herself returned. She felt as though Kiyora was only a shell she inhabited. Even now, she felt as though she could see everything. "The DSD is already fighting throughout the city. They are defending people from the lesser nightmares. Other cities throughout the Dreamer Empire are fighting as well. But the worst of them are focused here."


    "Are you sure?" asked Morpheus, eyeing her.


    "Yes," said Kiyora. "I just know. I am the Dreaming Goddess, remember. Nightmares are cropping up all over the city. Lieutenant Escalus and the rest of the DSD are dealing with them. However, the worst of them are focused here. I''ll take care of these quick-"


    She began to summon her power. The nightmares drew back in fear. However, Morpheus put a paw on her foot. "Wait, Kiyora," he said. "These creatures only appeared to attack you. I think this is a trap."


    "All right, smart guy," said Kiyora, "you kill them or get me some other help." S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Morpheus paused. "As you wish." Then, the symbol of the sun on his brow shone. A beam of golden light shot out through the barrier. It struck one of the nightmares. The creature screamed and reeled backward before fading away into many shadows. Those shadows were absorbed by the other nightmares, which grew larger still.


    "...That''s all my power," said Morpheus. "I''m going to go get some help." And he leaped out of the barrier. The other nightmares lashed at him, but he flew high above their tendrils and away. The horrors broke off pursuit and continued to slam against Kiyora''s circle.


    "Freaking cat!" muttered Kiyora. "Backing out on me!"


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    The others grew bolder. Kiyora saw them tearing at the light. Minutes dragged on, and she could do nothing. She wanted to use her powers as the Dreaming Goddess. But at the same time, something told her she should not be hasty. To conserve her energy as best she could.


    Hadn''t she been doing that all along?


    As she watched the nightmares flail, she thought she heard something. Screams. Was that Laurus screaming? And Reya and Gisora. They were being torn apart. She had to go to help them. She found herself preparing to spring past the circle to attack the nightmares.


    But something held her back.


    What was she doing? Her friends were hurt. She needed to go to them.


    Except there was no good reason for them to be out here, especially with all the nightmares. Once she realized this, Kiyora suddenly thought the screams changed to be more like the wind. Why had she ever mistaken it for her friends?


    Sweat dripped down her brow. She could feel her power waning. At this rate, she''d have to just chance it and destroy the nightmares alone. It was better to fight an uphill battle than stall till she lost by default. She raised her sword and prepared to attack.


    "Leave her alone!" cried a familiar voice.


    Then, from the shadows above descended Reya. The shy girl landed before Kiyora, and as she did, the skies above opened just a bit to reveal a glimmer of starlight. In her hands was a long staff of oak.


    Morpheus landed next to her.


    "Reya?" asked Kiyora. "What are you doing here?"


    "I made emergency recruitment," said Morpheus.


    "I heard you were in trouble," said Reya. "And there were all these terrible things going on. So I wanted to help." Then she raised her staff and suddenly looked more assertive than Kiyora had ever seen her. "''In the name of Alchara, I will smite you!''"


    Instantly, spectral vines grew from the ground. They twisted around Reya, intertwining around her. Soon, she was wholly obscured from view. Then, a bud appeared, which transformed into a brilliant violet flower. From that flower emerged Reya.


    She wore a silver tiara with a violet gem. Her outfit was much like Kiyora''s but had a longer skirt and fingerless gloves. In one hand was a bow, and by her side was a quiver. Setting an arrow to it, she drew back the bow and summoned green energy around it.


    "Growth Shot!" cried Reya.


    Firing it skyward, it exploded. The glimmer of starlight expanded, and the sky was visible again. And down from it descended green rain. Vines grew up all around them, glowing as they wrapped up the nightmares. They dragged them downwards toward the ground and forced them into place. The nightmares grew new limbs to tear at the vines, but these two were dragged down.


    "Now, Kiyora!" cried Morpheus. "Use your-"


    "I know, I know," said Kiyora. Then she leaped into the air so she had a clear view of both nightmares. Swinging her sword, she unleashed her power. "Rainbow Justice Slash!"


    Down went the colors of the rainbow. They struck the nightmares, and both were helpless to act against it. They screeched in agony and were obliterated. Kiyora landed on one knee.


    It hurt¡ªa lot.


    "Thanks, Reya," said Kiyora, forcing herself to stand. "But how did you do that? I thought you needed practice." Her knee still ached.


    "In emergencies, Alchara grants rookie Dream Sages extra power," said Morpheus. "Also, a Dream Sage''s power results from their personality. Reya is a gardener and has a green thumb, so her powers are associated with plants."


    "I um..." Reya paused. "I know it wasn''t as cool as you, but..."


    "Reya, that was awesome," said Kiyora. "Anyway, let''s see if we can help around the city-"


    "This is bad," said Morpheus.


    "What?" said Kiyora.


    Then she saw he was looking behind her. Following his gaze, she saw many specters. The dead were rising out of the ground in great numbers. They were moaning and screeching at the agony of their existence. There were humans, satyrs, giants, and all.


    Reya set another arrow to her bow. "Growth Shot!"


    Once again, the vines whipped up and bound them. But more and more specters came after them. Kiyora swung her sword and slew more of them with each swing. Yet two more appeared for each one she defeated. Arrow after arrow was fired to keep them back. Finally, enough vines were springing up to keep them in place.


    "How many more of these things are there?" asked Reya, panting and sweating. "How did you last this long, Kiyora?"


    "I''m the Dreaming Goddess," panted Kiyora as she swung again. "This stuff is nothing."


    "You didn''t look like it''s nothing," said Reya.


    "Look, Reya, I got woken up in the middle of the night to deal with this," said Kiyora. "I destroy one nightmare, and the next thing I know, I''m facing an infinite number of them." She slew more of the specters. "How did you become a Dream Sage?"


    "Morpheus told me it was an emergency, and you needed my help," said Reya. "Then, he unlocked my powers."


    Kiyora swung again, and more of them died. At that moment, the vines broke, and the specters rushed at them. Summoning what little power remained, Kiyora plunged her sword into the ground. Another circle of light radiated outward. She felt lightheaded as the specters pressed up against it.


    "This is horrible..." said Reya.


    "Don''t worry," said Morpheus. "Alchara doesn''t expect you to keep being a Dream Sage after this, Reya. This can be a one-time thing if you want."


    "Assuming we get past the one time," said Kiyora. "I need to talk about something, Morpheus. It''ll distract me from how hard this is." Her head was aching.


    "Well, why don''t you ask me some questions," said Morpheus. "I''ll answer as best I can."


    "Where exactly were you when Laughing Wraith invaded anyway?" asked Kiyora.


    "To be honest, we''ve seen a rising of darkness through the Dreamer Empire," said Morpheus. "Actovosh is under the direct protection of Emperor Ictargo. So, we moved most of our Dream Sages to other cities.


    "Also, Wraith outwitted us. He was very clever, you know. The good news is that I now know where these nightmares came from," He stopped.


    "Well?" asked Kiyora.


    "They come from the Dark Elven realm," said Morpheus. "The world of Narvan. Or possibly Nishmar, another planet in the system. But probably Narvan. You can tell because these nightmares emphasize torture and pain. Rioletta has a fetish for that kind of thing."


    "Way too much information," said Kiyora. "And torture and pain as opposed to what?"


    "Nightmares come in all shapes and sizes," said Morpheus. "Sometimes, they make you think you are being chased by something too horrible to imagine. Other times, they make you think others hate you. These are all about direct physical agony."


    "Well then, how did they come from Narvan?" asked Kiyora. "That''s a long way to travel."


    "Narvan is more than another world," said Morpheus. "It exists in direct opposition to our own. If the barrier between the worlds is weakening, it is only natural that something might be able to let them in."


    "But who?" asked Reya.


    "Yes, who among all the universe would have such majesty and power?" asked a familiar voice.


    The specters stopped. Violet flame licked up, and into view stepped Arraxia. She had the Axe of Fortenex in one hand and the Void Stone in the other. And she was smiling in a friendly fashion.


    "Arraxia," said Kiyora. She wasn''t even going to pretend she was surprised.


    "The same. Oh, good job on fighting those nightmares," said Arraxia. "I must say I am most enjoying testing out the full might of the powers of the Void Stone. Our connection gave me the perfect place to use them without fear of reprisal."


    "What are you talking about?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, come now," said Arraxia. "Both of us put a piece of our essence into Baltoth''s Retribution. Thus, we share an innate bond. One which I have used to follow you to this world."


    "Who is this, Kiyora?" asked Reya.


    Kiyora felt afraid. She''d never expected Arraxia to get here. Now, she''d given her the means without even meaning to. But she put on a boldface. "A narcissist with delusions of grandeur," Then she snatched up her sword. Then she summoned her power.


    "Growth Saber!" cried Reya, firing an arrow.


    Arrow and sword unleashed their power. Vines whipped up to bind Arraxia''s legs together. Others grabbed her wrists and pulled them behind her back so that she was forced to stand upright. More and more vines went onto her. Despite herself, Kiyora liked how Arraxia looked tied up. What did that say about her?


    Did it matter? She unleashed her power. "Rainbow Justice Slash!"


    And a rainbow shot towards her. But the Axe of Fortenex blazed with a blood light. The vines burst into flames and fell away. The demoness swung the axe and struck the rainbow. In an instant, hundreds of specters were consumed in the blaze. Their spirits returned to the Void Stone.


    "What are you doing?" asked Arraxia in bemusement.


    "Calling my attacks," said Kiyora. "It''s kind of silly."


    "Well, to each their own," said Arraxia.


    Then she surged forward. Her axe was swung round, and everything went in slow motion. Kiyora could see the Axe of Fortenex gleaming as it went closer and closer to Reya''s throat. Leaping forward, Kiyora brought up her sword and blocked it.


    The weight of the blow forced Kiyora to one knee. Even as she stopped it, Arraxia spun the haft around to strike Kiyora in the face. She reeled back and hit the ground.


    "Oh, you stopped it," said Arraxia. "I was hoping to cut off her head. I''ve never actually killed anything with this axe, and you seemed like a good start."


    "Get out of my world!" hissed Kiyora.


    The command took form. Yet as it rushed toward Arraxia, the demoness stood where she was. For a moment, they stood there. And Kiyora felt Arraxia''s mind, her smug confidence, her desire for power. She wrestled with her will, but Arraxia stood there. Kiyora was exhausted. She''d hardly had any rest for the past few months and could not defeat Arraxia here.


    Not like this.


    "You shouldn''t make commands you can''t back up," said Arraxia. "I rather like it here. I think I''ll stay. But since you seem intent on opposing me, I think you''d better go."


    Then she raised the Void Stone. It glowed, and the world began to shift. Kiyora suddenly found herself being drawn away from Actovosh. She was drawn away from this world. Darkness gripped her, and she was away from that world and into another.


    She blacked out.

 Chapter 345 - Seven: The Quest

    The Festival of the Hearth was finally over.


    William had taken little time to enjoy the hospitality of the King. He didn''t like sitting idle, and the day after his arrival, he sought out Eitrigg. The two of them began healing the sick and injured of the capital. William learned that Eitrigg''s ability for healing was nearly as strong as his own. It took him minutes to heal wounds that William could fix in mere moments. Eitrigg couldn''t regrow limbs either. William could, assuming the injury didn''t symbolize anything. Even so, Eitrigg knew several techniques that William found helpful.


    "You should use the bare minimum amount of power when healing," Eitrigg said. He tended to an old man with a broken leg as he did. "It''s better to use a small amount of power to inspire the person''s body to heal itself. Not make miracles left and right."


    "Why is that?" asked William.


    "It''s about efficient use of resources," explained Eitrigg. "You should learn to use a little power to do a lot. Then, when you have to do something massive, you''ll accomplish much more." He paused. "I''ve seen many healers in Elranor''s service, and I''ve never seen someone with your skill, William. Who taught you?"


    "No one," said William. "Elranor granted me power."


    "Well, yes, that''s a given," said Eitrigg. "But you must have had a teacher. What was your first case?"


    "My friend, Felix," said William, "he was stabbed by a satyr through the stomach. He was dying, and I found the power within me. I healed him. Then, later, Elranor appeared before me and offered me a position as one of his paladins."


    "You healed a lethal wound for your first case?" asked Eitrigg. "You must be truly favored."


    "I hope so," said William. "If I''m not in Elranor''s favor, I''m trying to get there."


    The door opened, and Tanith entered. She was clad in a black tunic and pants and stretching. "Hey, Eitrigg, I know you''re going through this pacifist phase, but could you spar with me?"


    "I told you," said Eitrigg. "I''ve given up war."


    "Well, it''s not war," said Tanith. "Come on, just a nonlethal spar." She paused. "What about you, William?"


    "Tanith," said William, "I will spar with you if you let me finish my rounds here."


    "Fine," said Tanith, "I''ll hold you to that." Then she turned and walked out.


    "She never used to be like this," said William. "When we were children, she was easygoing. When we campaigned, she seemed normal, if a bit bloodthirsty. But now she''s never satisfied unless she is fighting someone."


    "It''s her way of coping," said Eitrigg. "When sailing with Argath Marn, we saw... we did things..." His eyes grew distant. "Well, it isn''t something I want to dwell on. Suffice to say what I do now is atonement for what I did then."


    "What happened to Tanith?" asked William.


    "She was Argath''s favorite," said Eitrigg. "And she tried to fill the role." He paused. "After this, I will make rounds to the various villages and heal everyone I can. Why don''t you come with me? You could be of great help. Though it will take several days."


    "Of course," said William. "I don''t feel much like celebrating anyway."


    That had been how William and Eitrigg began their ministry. William did most of the healing while Eitrigg instructed him in better techniques. Among those techniques was meditation¡ªthat and focusing his emotions. William knew that different mental states were better for different kinds of magic. But Rusara did not have the same skill at healing. Under Eitrigg''s instruction, he found himself rapidly improving.


    Felix was there, of course, but he said nothing. He seemed to be wrestling with some inner struggle. Sometimes, he would look far south as if conflicted. However, when William asked about it, he said nothing.


    Eventually, they returned. When they did, Mother was already gone. She had gone out on her own mission, and they had only just missed her. Returning to his room, William had just sat down after getting back when Felix entered. "William, King Estal is here to see you."


    "The King?" asked William. "Of course, let him in."


    King Estal entered. He looked very pleased and looked at William with approval. "I am told that every village in my Kingdom has been visited. The sick and the injured flock to you and are made whole. Those who dabble in the art of healing for-profit curse your name.


    "You are a strange knight, Sir William."


    William flushed with pride. "Thank you," he said. "Yet, I''ve never been formally knighted."


    "And yet you bear the scars of war and carry yourself with strength and nobility few can match," noted Estal.


    "You flatter me, King Estal," said William, embarrassed. "But I am sure you did not come all this way to say just that."


    "No, I did not," admitted Estal. "I think that you may well be worthy of being a knight. If you wish it, I will knight you."


    To be knighted at his age? Well, of course, William had already done his share of questing. "You honor me."


    "First, however. I would have you first complete a quest for me," said Estal.


    That was standard. A tradition that a knight performs a task for the one who did the knighting. "Name it, and it shall be done."


    "Some months ago, we were at war with the cyclopi of the northern highlands," said Estal. "But one of them, the King, crept into Estal and kidnapped my daughter, Cassandra."


    "A cyclops crept past all your guards?" asked William in surprise.


    "He is a sorcerer," said Estal. "Some say he possesses the power of shapeshifting and to meld with the shadows. Now, he holds her hostage, and she languishes in prison. And if we move to attack them, she will surely be killed."


    "You would have me rescue her," guessed William.


    "I would," said Estal. "You may, of course, take whatever companions you wish."


    "Very well, then," said William. "Felix, go find Tanith. She''ll want to be involved in this."


    "Ah, Tanith. I knighted her as well," said Estal. "Good choice. Still, are you certain you should take the Calishan?"


    William felt a surge of resentment but crushed it. "Felix is among my oldest friends. I trust him with my life."


    "Very well," said Estal. "You may choose your companions. And you will depart as soon as possible. I must return to my court. I fear I have judgments to pass."


    The King departed, and William took up his sword. Unsheathing the blade, he stopped. The black sword was far longer and broader than when Moira presented it. The sword had grown as he had grown. The red runes upon it did not glow so brightly. The darkness seemed deeper. Yet the steely glint was stronger.


    He was still looking at the blade when the door opened. Tanith and Felix entered. Tanith was already wearing her armor. She seemed happier than she''d been in days. "Felix tells me we''re going after Princess Cassandra. Sounds fun to me? She''s supposed to be a real beauty."


    "Haven''t you met her?" asked William. "You were here before."


    "Yeah, but I didn''t spend much time in the palace," said Tanith. "I only went there once to be knighted. Mostly, Aris and I were making plans for raids and piracy."


    "Right," said William. "Is there anyone who knows the realm of the cyclopi?"


    "Well, that would be Eitrigg," said Tanith. "He lived in that region before he took to raiding. I''ll go ask him."


    "Let me get my armor on, and I''ll go with you," said William. "Felix, could you help me with this."


    Once again, William wondered why Rusara had chosen such morbid imagery for the armor she gave him. It had been a gift, and he treasured it. Yet the way the helm warped his voice into sounding like a cold north wind disturbed him. He''d known Rusara valued fear as a tactic but hadn''t known that well.


    Tanith led them through the halls. Eventually, she came to a room and banged on the door. "Hey, Eitrigg! Eitrigg!"


    The door opened. "This is a meditation room, you know?"


    "You can sleep when you''re dead," said Tanith. "Are you up for another adventure?"


    "To what end?" asked Eitrigg. "I already told you I''m not going to kill anyone ever again."


    "Not that," said Tanith. "We just need someone who knows the domain of the cyclopi. We''ve got to rescue Princess Cassandra, and you know that area better than anyway."


    Eitrigg remained silent. "...Very well, I will lead you. However, I have a condition."


    "What is it?" asked Tanith.


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    "There is to be no blood spilled without need," said Eitrigg. "Not a single creature, monster or mortal, god or demon is to be killed save at the greatest needs. Promise me this, and I will go with you. Otherwise, find someone else."


    "Oh, come on, Eitrigg. They''re cyclopi, not people," said Tanith.


    "That is my condition," said Eitrigg. "Take it or leave it, Tanith."


    "We accept, of course," said William. "I have no love of blood."


    Eitrigg flinched as he heard the voice. "Well, that is something. We should go soon. I have the feeling we will need haste in this matter."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Tanith.


    "A feeling in my heart," said Eitrigg.


    "We were leaving immediately anyway," said William.


    They quickly got together provisions and made their way out of the palace. With the holiday over, the colorful banners were now mere leftovers. People were tired of drinking and entertainment. Now, a sense of weary contentment was on the streets.


    Tanith led them to the gates and past the villages on this side of the gorge. As they walked, they saw a large group of brown-clad men. They were practicing with spears and large round shields. It looked like they were trying to make a formation, but they weren''t doing a very good job. Nor were they trying very hard.


    "Are those the local militia?" asked William.


    "Yes," said Eitrigg. "They are drilling for combat, as is their custom two days a week."


    "They aren''t doing a very good job of it," said William. "Their formation is uneven. They aren''t making proper use of their shields. And the rear lines aren''t even lowering their spears over their shoulders."


    "Truth be told, Estal doesn''t get much use out of its militia save to put down criminals," said Eitrigg. "They are surrounded by water, and the navy is the source of their power."


    "What of the cyclopi?" asked William.


    "The cyclopi don''t attack very often," said Eitrigg. "Or at all. Most of those who have died to them died because they intruded on their territory."


    "Ah," said William.


    They crossed the gorge, and Eitrigg halted a little down the road. William could see the other villages training their militia as well. They weren''t doing much better.


    "We''ll turn off the road here," said Eitrigg. "The cyclopi will have that watched. We must make our way cross country toward the mountain. See up there. Near the peak is a cave, and in that cave dwells the King of the Cyclopi. It is there that we will find Cassandra." sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "If it''s all that easy, why do we need a guide?" asked Felix.


    "Getting there is the trouble," said Eitrigg. "Don''t be fooled by their one eye. A cyclops can see far better than any human. And they''ll have patrols. If we took the road, we''d have been grabbed long before we got anywhere and would have to fight our way up." They began to cut across the country. It had rained the previous night, and the ground was moist. It yielded beneath their feet and was unpleasant to walk in.


    Eventually, they came into a forest leading uphill toward the mountain. The trees here were huge, and their branches were high above them. However, there were still patches of underbrush here or there.


    "Something troubles me, Eitrigg," said William. "You said that cyclopi rarely attack. If so, how did war break out between Estal and the cyclopi?"


    "A young cyclops had taken to stealing the apples from a nobles orchard," said Eitrigg. "One day, the noble and his men wait for him. They ambushed him, blinded him, and sent him off. Some of his friends came by and devoured the noble and his family."


    "I remember this," said Tanith fondly. "Aris and I went after them and shot dead several of them as they fled. Estal started mustering its army. Many soldiers said we should drive out the cyclopi once and for all.


    "Things were just getting good. Then Cassandra got kidnapped, and the whole war ground to a halt. I was looking forward to killing a Cyclops in hand to hand."


    "It was probably for the best," said Eitrigg. "Whichever side had won would have been devastated. Instead, King Estal consulted the Seers of Laevian as to what he should do. And he was told that his daughter would be returned. It would happen when a boy with the valor of knights, clad as death, came to his island by no will of his own.


    "All other efforts would fail."


    "That''s convenient," said William.


    "Not for me. I don''t much like the idea of fighting such creatures," said Eitrigg. "Even if I were willing to kill them. Cyclopi are not evil by nature. Not like satyrs. They largely wish to be left to do as they will. And their crimes are petty."


    "First off, some of my best friends have been satyrs," said Tanith, scorn in her voice. "And secondly, Cyclopi not being evil by nature? I can only assume you mean when they aren''t eating nobles?"


    "They don''t believe in wasting anything," said Eitrigg. "To them, eating another species which they have killed is not wrong, even if that species thinks. After all, the alternative is to let the meat go to waste."


    "Bah," said Massacre with obvious sarcasm.


    William looked up to see that the chimera had snuck upon them. She''d broken off from them at some point and hadn''t appeared during the whole Festival. "Massacre, where did you come from?"


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "So Mother has been training with the militia of Estal?" asked William, "What does she think of it?"


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "That bad?" said William.


    "You can speak with this creature?" asked Eitrigg.


    "Yes. Massacre is very intelligent," said William. "She was just telling me that the militias of Estal need improvement."


    "That is nothing we did not already know," said Eitrigg. "It hardly matters. There are always more mercenaries looking to carve a living out of the hides of Calishans. Truthfully had the militia system not been set out by Anoa the Bright, we likely would have abandoned it."


    "Why not send them with the ships?" asked William.


    "Some do go out with the ships, but not many. When a knight dies in battle, it is a tragedy, but no one will starve," said Eitrigg. "When a peasant dies in battle, they will never return to tend their fields. Commoners are of more use producing food for us since the soil here isn''t as good as the mainland."


    "I suppose-" began William.


    "Stop," said Eitrigg. "Into the underbrush quickly."


    "But-" began Tanith.


    "Quickly," said Eitrigg.


    They rushed quickly to the underbrush. However, even as they did, their feet left huge pits in the earth where they stepped. Hiding there, William looked. "Anyone who comes will see the tracks."


    "One moment," said Eitrigg. He raised a talisman from within his robes and focused on it. "Barden, grant us this blessing." Gradually, the tracks they had left began to recede, the ground returning to the way it once was.


    It was not a moment too soon. For out of the trees came two large cyclopi. They were like the giants of Viokinar, but they had one pure black eye each. Their legs were like those of the satyrs, with a white horn on top of their heads. They carried huge maces in their hands and wore heavy armor.


    Yet they walked without a sound.


    "I swear I saw something out here, Polyus," boomed one.


    "As did I," said Polyus, "Perhaps some adventurers?"


    "They likely lost their nerve like the others," said the first.


    "Still, I don''t like this, Krosus," said Polyus. "I''ll keep a watch here. You head up to the King''s cave and tell him what is happening. Get some warriors down here."


    And he sat down with his back to them. Krosus turned and made his way back up the slope. Leaving them lying in the wet mud with a mere cyclops feet away.


    "Well, we are stuck now, aren''t we?" said Felix.


    "He''s got his back to us," said Tanith. "I''ll sneak up behind him and put a sword in his neck."


    "No. I told you before, no killing," said Eitrigg.


    "Will you get over yourself, Eitrigg?" asked Tanith. "When did you become so spineless?"


    "You-" began Eitrigg.


    "Stop," said William. "Let me think." He considered the situation for a while. "Alright, I''m going out there."


    "You''re wearing full armor," said Felix. "You won''t be able to sneak like that."


    "Who says I''m sneaking?" asked William.


    Then, getting to his feet, he stepped out into the light. Polyus heard him and arose a mace in hand. William raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "Excuse me."


    "What?" said Polyus. "A human? What is your business here? Speak quickly!"


    "I mean you no harm, I assure you," said William.


    "Do you not?" asked Polyus.


    "Yes," said William. "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel. I''ve come on a mission from the King of Estal. He wishes to negotiate the return of his daughter, Cassandra."


    "Then why did you hide?" asked Polyus.


    "I was afraid we would be taken for enemies and killed," said William. "I promised I would achieve my objective without blood."


    "...I don''t know if what you say is true," said Polyus. "However, if it is, you will wait here until my comrade returns. When I have warriors, I shall take you to the King. Then we will see."


    "As you wish," said William.


    Tanith came out with the others. "William, what are you doing?"


    "Improvising. If there really is only one way into the cave, we''ll never get in and out without fighting," said William. "Not unless they let us in."


    "I hope you are right," said Eitrigg.


    "I know you are wrong," snapped Tanith. "Even if peace is made with these animals, there will only be another war. We may as well slaughter them all on our way up."


    "You want to storm the Cyclopi King''s palace with just us?" asked Felix.


    "Bah," said Massacre doubtfully.


    "Why not?" asked Tanith. "There would be stories told of the day."


    "Yes, and once you''d slaughter all those innocents, there would be eternal hatred. Estal and the cyclops would fight for years to come," said Eitrigg.


    "Not if there were no cyclopi left to hate," said Tanith, an edge in her tone. "Tell me Eitrigg, when did the boldest of Prince Aris'' soldiers transform into a pacifist?" The last word was practically spat.


    "You would have agreed with me a few years ago," said Eitrigg.


    "No, I wouldn''t," said Tanith.


    "Yes, you would," said Eitrigg. "You''ve changed, and not for the better. Even since we went with Argath Marn, you''ve lived for blood. It''s all you care about anymore."


    "Well, obviously," said Tanith. "There is no greater glory than the destruction of the enemies of Elranor."


    "Was Argath Marn thinking of Elranor when he ordered the children of that village put on stakes?" asked Eitrigg. "Was he thinking of Elranor when he had those who refused his orders executed? To scare the rest into following suit. Or perhaps when he burned our ship to force us to raid a Calishan port and kill even more people.


    "We were terrified of him. So we did as we were told. Horrors of our creation surrounded us. So we became sadists and learned to laugh at them. When anyone questions, what we did, we said it was for Elranor.


    "Well, I know that to be a lie now. And you do as well."


    "The Calishans aren''t really people. They''re barbarians," said Tanith. "They killed Anoa the IX. Killing them is doing the world a favor."


    "Then what am I doing here?" asked Felix.


    "I..." Tanith paused, "well, you''re different."


    "How?" asked Felix.


    Tanith said nothing.


    "I cannot take back those things I did, Tanith," said Eitrigg. "Neither can you. But for my part, I will try to make amends for them."


    "So you''ve said before," said William, annoyed for reasons he didn''t understand. "We shouldn''t be discussing this here."


    At that moment, a group of cyclopi came through the trees. There were nearly a dozen of them, all holding maces as tall as William was. Their leader came forward, larger than all the rest. His eye peered at them, then Polyus.


    "Polyus, we''re here. Are these the intruders?" he asked.


    "They claim to be emissaries from King Estal, Captain Kronel," said Polyus. "They hope to secure the release of Princess Cassandra. Shall we take them to the King?"


    "Very well. We will bring them," said Polyus. "But keep an eye on them, and if they make any sudden movements, club their heads in."


    Well, this had all gone better than expected. Assuming Tanith didn''t go berserk, they shouldn''t have a problem.

 Chapter 346 - Eight: King Themos

    To reach the cave of the cyclopi king they had to scale a long way. It hadn''t been pleasant at all. Climbing mountains wasn''t fun, even when you weren''t wearing full battle armor. By the end, Tanith was in an even fouler mood than she''d been before.


    She kept glancing at the guards around them. Her hand would twitch and go for one of her swords. Then she would draw it back.


    As they got higher, they suddenly came out of the trees and saw a massive wall of rocks piled on top of one another. It circled the knees of the mountain, and all of the trees within three hundred yards of it had been torn out. Not down, out. There were gaping holes in the earth where the cyclopi had pulled them up, roots and all. The trees themselves could be seen in several huge buildings beyond the wall.


    There was only one way into this ring of stone. It was a gatehouse. The gate was built from entire trees bolted together. As they neared it, it opened, pulled aside by two cyclopi. A third one came out to greet them, and he bore a gigantic round shield with a single eye at the center of it.


    "What news, Kronel?" he asked. "Have you prisoners?"


    "No Porly," said Kronel. "These are emissaries, or so they say. They wish to speak with our king."


    "We''ve not had emissaries in years," said Porly, disappointedly. "No matter, the fence is open."


    "Fence?" asked Tanith. "That is a wall."


    "Not to them, it isn''t," said Eitrigg. "The grandfather of King Estal tried to conquer this mountain. He defeated the cyclopi in a battle and pursued them here. But we could not break the wall and was worsted."


    "Couldn''t they have just shot them with arrows?" asked William. "Or cast down the wall with stone-throwers?"


    "Cyclopi are great forgers of steel," said Eitrigg. "And they can make shield walls as well. Their shield walls are far thicker than any shield wall we humans can make."


    They were led through the ''fence.'' Beyond they had to scaled a way up until finally, the ground slid downwards as they neared the peak. They saw a cave whose entrance was as black as night. The cyclopi guards led them into the darkness.


    Then, a very strange thing happened. As soon as they set foot beyond the mouth of the cave, everything was illuminated. They were walking on tiled floors with beautiful designs painted upon them. The ceiling and wall were similarly decorated. And the entire inside was illuminated by great spheres of light. Yet they were dull and did not hurt the eyes to gaze on.


    "Behold, the cave of King Themos," said Kronel. "Where our King dwells."


    "This is a very beautiful cave," said William.


    "You did not imagine our King would live on a bare stone?" asked Kronel. "No, he is a craftsman greater than any other."


    Cyclopi servants were walking this way and that with bundles. As it turned out, the cave became less opulent once you got past the entrance hall. There were still tiles, but there were no designs. William saw a cyclopi herding a vast number of sheep into one passage.


    Eventually, it came to a great stone lying in front of an entrance. Kronel set down his mace and gripped ahold of the stone. Heaving with his legs he rolled it aside to reveal a great hall. Within it was a massive throne, and on that sat a smaller cyclops. His skin was darker than the others, and his horn was longer. His face was wrinkled, and he was missing his left index finger.


    As they came forward, he raised his eyebrow. "Kronel, you return with a strange company. What is the meaning of this visit?"


    "I come with emissaries from King Estal," said Kronel. "They have come seeking to negotiate the release of Princess Cassandra."


    "Let them come forward," said King Themos.


    William walked forward and came before him. Falling to one knee, he removed his helm, letting his hair fall around his shoulders. "Greetings to you, King Themos. I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel, and I bear no ill will toward your people. Indeed, I desire peace be reestablished between your people and the people of Estal."


    Themos narrowed his eye. "You... you have seen the goddess Typhos."


    "I am," said William. "I have been both friend and foe to her in the past."


    "Your words are fair," said Themos. "Yet it is for peace that I have kept Princess Cassandra with me. It grieved me to do so, but Estal''s armies were mustering. Many on both sides would have been destroyed had I not taken her there.


    "But she does not languish in a dungeon as some may claim. She is given the freedom to walk my halls, even to go outside."


    "May I speak with her then?" asked William. If he could get her to write a letter, it would go a long way to helping his case.


    "You may," said Themos. "However, I cannot release her. Not so long as Estal plans to march against us."


    "Perhaps some kind of agreement can be reached."


    At that moment, a tall and thin cyclops came forward. He wore a long brown cloak, and a staff made from an entire tree was in his hand. He coughed.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Themos looked up. "Ah, my sage, Pelmus. What is it?"


    "Majesty, I have received a vision from Typhos," said Pelmus. "I must speak to you at once."


    "We will have to continue this discussion later," said Themos. "I will extend to you the hospitality of your house. So long as you vow not to harm anyone within or seek to remove Princess Cassandra by force."


    "You have our oath," said William.


    "Good," said Themos. "Kronel, take them to Cassandra."


    Once again, they were herded into a side passage that led into the mountain. As they walked, Tanith looked even more irritated than before. "What are you thinking, William? We could have just hacked and slashed our way up here without spending time on boring negotiations."


    "Tanith, you can''t solve all your diplomatic problems by killing people," said William.


    "Why not?" asked Tanith. "It''s worked out pretty well for the Calishans."


    "Baltoth prefers to divide their enemies one way or another. Rather than to conquer them one by one," said Felix. "To do that, you must have an active diplomatic presence."


    "Oh, and I suppose you''re an expert on Baltoth," said Tanith.


    Felix smiled for some reason. It was a knowing smile. "I know him better than you."They came to a smaller room. And in this place, there were pieces of furniture that were not meant for cyclops but humans. Even so, they were big for a small person.


    Sitting in one of those slightly overlarge seats was a pretty young woman clad in a white dress. She looked at William curiously. "So, more would be heroes?"


    "Emissaries, milady," said William. "Are you Princess Cassandra?"


    "Yes." said the woman. "Who are you?"


    "We''re hoping to arrange for your release," said William.


    "Well, it''s a better strategy than the last band of mercenaries," said Cassandra. "Most don''t make it past the entry hall. Themos is clever. And very good at stealth."


    "He''s twenty feet tall," said Felix.


    "Fifteen, actually," said Cassandra. "And that has never stopped him before. When he grabbed me from my bedroom, I was looking out the window, and I didn''t even see him until he grabbed me."


    "Is he related to Neseriah by chance?" asked Felix.


    "Neseriah?" asked Tanith.


    "One of Baltoth''s children," said Felix. "The result of his union with a race of giant bats. They are very good at melding with shadows. I''m descended from her."


    "That''s disgusting," said Tanith.


    "He shape changed," said Felix.


    "Bats aren''t people," said Tanith. "They can''t give consent."


    "I''m sorry, Tanith. Did you ask for consent from any of those priestesses you raped?" asked Felix.


    "It was only one," said Tanith. "And that was during a war."


    "How is what Baltoth did any worse?" asked Felix. "The bats certainly didn''t care in the end. I expect the girl you''re keeping as a slave back in Ran Telus might have some objections to her status."


    "Can we please not discuss this?" asked William. "No one here wants to hear about Baltoth''s or Tanith''s conquests."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Quiet Massacre," said William.


    "I''m with the one in skull armor," said Cassandra. "This doesn''t interest me."


    "Of course, I forgot," said William. "I haven''t introduced myself. I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel. You have been in the company of King Themos for some time. I wonder if you have any ideas as to what can be done to convince him to release you."


    "Well, he''s been very courteous with me," said Cassandra. "I''m never hurt, and he provides fine food and drinks for me. I do know that he thinks that he''ll lose if it comes to all-out war. That''s why he was so keen on taking me hostage."


    "We could use that," said Felix. "If we convince Themos that King Estal will gladly sacrifice his daughter. Especially if it means avenging an insult."


    "I don''t want to threaten anyone," said William. "It breeds resentment."


    "Look, why don''t we grab the girl and hack our way out?" said Tanith.


    "No," said William. "We have given our oath."


    "You''ve given your oath," said Tanith. "I haven''t said anything."


    "We are not going to start a bloodbath under any circumstances," said William. "Now, stop asking."


    "Fine," said Tanith.


    At this point, Themos emerged from the shadows, clad in full armor. "I''m glad to hear that, young William. You may be someone I can negotiate with after all."


    How had William missed him?


    "He does this a lot," said Cassandra.


    "...When did you get there?" asked William.


    "I have been here the entire time. I am of the third generation descended from Neseriah," said Themos. "Your guess was correct. Cousin."


    "Oh," said Felix. "So it was."


    "At any rate, I have received news from my soothsayer," said Themos. "He says that Baltoth desires to establish relations with the cyclopi. I am inclined to accept his offer. Friendship with my ancestor''s empire would protect my people."


    "I wouldn''t trust a friendship with Baltoth too deeply," said William. "You may end up one of his subjects."


    "Of that, I am well aware," said Themos. "I want to negotiate with King Estal to gain his friendship. Playing the sides against each other is an ancient art with a long and glorious history.


    "It is a shame that you aren''t here as an emissary."


    "My quest was to arrange the return of Princess Cassandra," said William. "I took some liberties with my methods."


    "Meaning that King Estal wanted you to barge in, sword drawn, and hack your way to victory?" guessed Themos. "Just as several previous mercenaries and adventurers have tried?"


    "More or less," admitted William. "Though I do not think he would object to having her returned peacefully."


    "I cannot release Cassandra just yet," said Themos. "However, instead, I will send you back to King Estal bearing many gifts. There was a time when the Cyclops were sought after for our art and skill at craftsmanship.


    "You will tell King Estal that I am willing to begin negotiations for his daughter''s return." S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "King Themos, would you allow me to write a letter to my father?" asked Cassandra. "I wish him to know the truth of my captivity."


    "Of course," said Themos.


    "Good," said William. "I will observe her writing it. That way, I may tell King Estal that she did not write it under duress."


    "A good plan," said Themos. "I will give your company a place for the night. And in the morning, you will eat and depart for Estal."


    "As you wish," said William.


    It''s not the most heroic of achievements, but it''s still worthwhile.

 Chapter 347 - Nine: The Swan Goddess

    Days later, William kneeled in the great hall of King Estal with his comrades beside him. Before him, on the ground were several chests of gold and silver. The King looked upon him in bemusement but not displeasure. The same could not be said of the advisor beside the throne. "You bring me gifts from the cyclopi, William? This is not as I expected your return."


    "Your pardon, your majesty. However, I judged that to storm the Royal Cave would invite a full-scale war," said William. "One that could ill be afforded with the Calishans so near at hand.


    "Baltoth knows to strike at weakness.


    "Thus, I approached King Themos and requested he give her back. He promised to attempt to agree with you. These gifts are a gesture of goodwill."


    "Absurd!" said the advisor. "You were sent to free the princess; instead, you have returned with baubles. That and the false promises of monsters!"


    "I was given this letter to you. It is written by Princess Cassandra''s hand," said William, focusing on Estal. "To demonstrate that she has not been ill-treated." He drew out the letter from his bag and offered it. A servant took the letter before bringing it to King Estal.


    Estal unrolled it and read it. "Yes, yes, this is her handwriting." He looked back to William. "Tell me, how did she look when you saw her?"


    "She looked weary and ill at ease," said William. "But she was healthy, unharmed, and left to walk the Royal Cave freely. In truth, however, the cave is finer than many palaces I''ve seen. I do not think the cyclopi have been cruel to her.


    "I watched her write the letter myself, and no cyclopi laid eyes on it. They do not know what is written. Whatever she says, there ought to be the truth."


    Estal clasped his hands before him and leaned back on his throne. "This is unexpected. But you are indeed your father''s son."


    "Well spoken, my liege," said the advisor. "Duke Vanion has always preferred to negotiate with the enemies of Elranor. Do not face them in open combat. This boy may wear a terrible visage, but he is weak of heart."


    "Be silent, Esgroth," said Estal. "You mistake praise for condemnation. There is a place for words and diplomacy, just as there is a place for the strokes of swords. To pursue the former is no crime, and Vanion has proven bold in the latter.


    "Though I fear he was in error to seek a truce with Calisha."


    "Are you not seeking a truce as well, Your Majesty?" asked William.


    "I am," said King Estal. "For I know well that we cannot stand against Calisha alone. However, before the truce was signed, we had won many great victories at sea against the Calishans. Had the war continued, we should have been able to press our advantage. We could do great harm to Baltoth''s designs.


    "I fear that many knights of Estal are not fond of the name Gabriel."


    "Then I will do all I can in my time here to prove my devotion to the cause of Harlenor," said William.


    "That is all a man can do," said King Estal. "Yet the possibility of a truce with the cyclopi is problematic. How would you go about seeking a truce?"


    William considered his answer. "I would have it be one that no one is fully satisfied with."


    Estal looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "An interesting idea. Why should we seek such an arrangement?" sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "When two men negotiate, and one man gets everything he wants," said William, "the other man will get nothing. He will resent the negotiation and take the first chance to reverse the result.


    "Yet if a man gets only part of his desires, he will never be satisfied with the result. But he may still hesitate to seek reprisal for fear of losing what he has.


    "It is thus better for both men to get something out of an arrangement. They may loath it but will still uphold it for their own sake."


    "A pragmatic concept," said Estal. "Grounded in the real. Yet that is not all there is. In time, young William, you will find that some things cannot be allowed. In some matters, to yield ground is to submit to wickedness.


    "Yet not, I think, in this one. I shall begin my negotiations with King Themos. And I pray that some understanding may be reached.


    "Still, this leaves the matter of your knighting. I shall not call the quest a success or a failure until the negotiations occur. If my daughter is returned to me, I shall gladly knight you. Should she be kept captive, then I will find some other task worthy of knighting."


    "As you wish, King Estal," said William.


    When William returned to his quarters, he found Mother waiting for him. She was polishing her shield on one knee. Her long blonde hair was tied behind her head, and her green eyes flicked over him as he entered. "William, there you are. You have been busy."


    "I was on a mission from King Estal," said William.


    "Was it successful?" asked Azgora.


    "I don''t know yet," said William. "Perhaps. How fares your efforts with the militia?"


    "A collection of weak fools if ever there was one," said Azgora. "I sought permission from King Estal to whip them into shape. And I have gained it. My first order of business was to flog everyone who arrived late."


    "That is somewhat harsh, isn''t it?" asked William.


    "The men and women of this land have grown fat and lazy," said Azgora. "They are sheltered from assault by the cliffs of this island. They fight with mercenaries and knights. I will not allow such sloth. Their strength shall befit their noble heritage when I finish with them.


    "I will not allow the men of this region to decay into the spineless weaklings of my land."


    "Of course, Mother," said William. There was no reason with her like this.


    "That reminds me of something," said Azgora. "I have a letter for you from your father." She reached over to a table and drew it out. "Take it."


    "Father?" asked William. "How did he find us?" Wait, that was a foolish question. "Oh right, the runes on my sword. How did he deliver it with the winds so calm?"


    "Rusara sent it by bird," said Azgora.


    "Then she is with him?" asked William, taking the letter. "Let me see it." He opened the letter, drew it up, and read it.


    "My son,


    I don''t pretend to know what you are doing on Estal. However, I advise you to leave. Now. I have managed to convince them to seek a truce with Calisha. But knowing the character of Prince Aris and his company, there is a good chance of a war.


    I will tell you what happened now that I''ve gotten the advice. I have arrived in the Iron Kingdom with a fleet of mercenaries who had gathered to fight the raishans. I had originally intended to conquer the place by force. In retribution for that fiasco with the Axe of Fortenex, of course. Fortunately, I''ve been spared the trouble of doing so by Melchious'' stupidity.


    The countryside has been largely depopulated. My initial assessment indicates that four out of every ten people are dead. It is far worse in the city itself. More will soon follow, for the giants have been launching raids. However, these numbers may be exaggerated due to the populace''s panic.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    I''ve allied with the survivors'' leader, Lord Byran. We''ve been cooperating to conquer the giants and Einheroth to secure the Kingdom. I intend to set him up as King, of course. He''s competent but weak enough that he''ll need to rely on us for support. Better still, there are vast tracts of land open for colonization. I''ve already made the arrangements with King Andoa. An expedition is being made as we speak. And I have Rusara working to appease the spirits of the land to accept us.


    Of course, all this chaos means I won''t be back in Artarq for at least a month. I''ve left Raynald in charge in my absence. Not an ideal fit, of course, but we''re stretched a bit thin. I''ll need you to keep him from doing anything too reckless. Thus, you should set out for there immediately.


    Sincerely yours,


    Your Father, Vanion Gabriel, Governor of Artarq, Lord of Carn Gable, Duke of Brisgald.


    William remembered the bloodletting unleashed by Melchious. Men, women, children, old and young alike. All dead. They had torn each other apart, driven mad by the will of the Dark Dreamer. His mouth went dry, and he felt cold. He looked at the letter and narrowed his eyes.


    "Thousands, maybe tens of thousands of people died in the Iron Kingdom," said William. "And he doesn''t even care."


    "Vanion was not there," said Azgora. "And he does not think like you or me, William. Vanion sees opportunities and resources. He has to work hard to think of people as people unless he has met them. Most people do.


    "He represents what is greatest in the men of my land. Yet he is not without the virtues of those who dwell in these eastern lands," She paused. "There is a bird waiting here for a response. Will you write to him?"


    "Yes," said William. "Felix, get me a quill and parchment. I need to write my reply."


    Wordlessly, Felix obeyed, and William went into his room. Sitting by a desk, he muttered an incantation and created a bright light from the Sun Spirit. Then he began to write.


    "Dear Father,


    Thousands of people died in the Iron Kingdom. It would be goodgood if you could pretend to be concerned about the fact. As for your colonization plans, it seems to be in poor taste. Do you truly think of the devastation of the Iron Kingdom as an opportunity? There are many colonies we have already made. I think we should support Byran in securing his kingdom, accept tribute for Antion, and leave. As for Melchious, what in Elranor''s name makes you think he is stupid?


    Melchious destroyed the Iron Kingdom because destruction and misery were his end goal. And judging by his speech, I suspect it was only the prelude to greater horrors. Fortunately, Mother killed his avatar, or he might be enacting them now. As it is, Arraxia escaped with the Void Stone and the Axe, which is honestly preferable. She, at least, has a vested interest in the continued existence of life. She desires its subjugation rather than its destruction.


    Also, for all her airs, I suspect she is not competent enough to use either.


    Regarding setting out for Artarq, I can do no such thing. An unnatural wind drove us to Estal, and we have been becalmed ever since then. The air itself conspires to keep us trapped. I''ve been spending my time here trying to negotiate a truce between Estal and the cyclopi.


    I am doing this because peace is good. Not because I plan to dethrone both at a later date.


    Sincerely yours,


    Your son, William Gabriel."


    Wordlessly, he offered it to Felix, who read through it. His expression became concerned. "Well, it is blunt. I wouldn''t send it if I were you."


    "I will," said William "It''s disgraceful the way he just sees an opportunity in Melchious'' actions."


    "All great figures seek opportunity," said Mother. "They seize their destiny and defy their fate. It is in such efforts that we are known as great. Not merely as another link in the chain of nobility."


    "There are other kinds of greatness than conquest," said William.


    "You''re wrong, William," said Felix. "Every achievement in the history of the world is born from conquest. When you heal and destroy a disease, you are overcoming a challenge¡ªconquering it, if you will. When you build a road through woodlands, you subjugate nature to your will.


    "Duke Vanion understands this. In all things, he attempts to enforce his will upon the universe. And he does so with great skill. He is a man after Baltoth''s own heart."


    "Silence!" said William, raising a hand.


    Felix flinched. William realized he''d been about to strike him. He lowered his hand. "Felix, forgive me, I... I wasn''t thinking."


    "I''m well aware," said Felix without expression. "You rarely think about things before you do them. Either you think about things and reach all the wrong answers."


    "Why is it wrong to challenge my father''s actions Felix?" asked William. "Tell me that?"


    "Because you are his heir. You will eventually inherit his domain and everything he gains," said Felix. "It is in your interest that he conquers and grows great. And nothing you do should interfere with that conquest.


    "Send that letter, and you will prick his pride. Proud men do reckless things when they are challenged."


    "You aren''t seriously suggesting that my father might disinherit me?" asked William. He''d known Felix was paranoid. He hadn''t thought it to this extent.


    "Not over this," said Felix. "But one slight challenge can lead to greater confrontations. Little by little, these conflicts escalate until you are both estranged."


    "Felix, you are being paranoid," said William. "Father isn''t going to disinherit me because I sent him one letter."


    "Believe what you will," said Felix.


    William resealed the letter and brought the letter to Azgora. "Mother, here is my letter. Could you give it to the bird?"


    "Of course," said Azgora. "I have already prepared my own letter."


    William looked to Felix. Suddenly, he wanted to be by himself. He wasn''t sure why. He wanted no one around him for miles. "I''m going to take a walk."


    "Right," said Felix.


    "Alone," said William.


    "You want me to leave you alone?" asked Felix.


    "I need to think about things, Felix," said William. "I need to be on my own."


    "...As you wish," said Felix. There was something else in his eyes.


    William''s feet carried him away from the palace and into the lands around the palace. He found himself walking amidst the trees. Darkness came on, and the moonlight glinted off his armor. In time, he came to a pond, feeling almost as if he had been drawn there.


    Swimming upon the pond was the most magnificent swan he had ever seen. The white feathers were brighter than any he had seen. Its neck was tall and proud, and it swam toward him. Unsure as to why William sat down by the edge of the pond as the swan drew near.


    Reaching out a hand for it, the swan drew near. He could almost touch it.


    Then, there was a shower of gold, and the swan was gone. In its place was a tall, immensely beautiful woman who was stark naked. Her legs were as long and curvaceous as Mother''s, and she had huge breasts matching even Arraxia. The curve of her hips and thin waist made for the most beautiful hourglass figures. The bounce of her chest was hypnotic. Her hair was long, coming down in bangs on either side. And there was a star on her brow gleaming while her eyes shone with power. Woman.


    William found his armor dropping for a moment, stunned by her beauty. Then she smiled and was upon him.


    Before he knew what was happening, she had forced him onto the ground. He tried to push her off, but her arms had an impossible strength. Soon, she had him pinned. His helm was forced off of him.


    Soon her lips were pressed against his. The sensation of her tongue forcing its way into his mouth made his head go blank with pleasure. He felt her hands gripping his armor, roaming across it. The straps were straining and about to break, and he strove to get her off, but this only added to her enjoyment.


    He could hardly breathe as she nibbled his neck. Hardly move. What the hell was going on?


    "Zeya!"


    The voice carried throughout the lands. The woman drew back. Before William could speak, she forced a hand over his mouth. She pushed his head down to the ground. An expression of panic went across the woman''s face, and she looked at William. Her eyes flared brighter for a moment.


    Then William found himself changing. He felt horrific pain as his armor merged into his flesh. His nose grew larger and flat. His hands and feet transformed into hooves, and blonde fur grew from his body. He yelled, and what he heard was the moaning of cattle. The woman put forth a hand and began to scratch him behind the ears.


    Out of the trees came a man. He was slender of build and looked effeminate to William. He wore violet robes and carried a staff in hand. He radiated a sort of enraged fidelity, which was difficult to look at. His hair was silver, and he had a book by his side. The woman looked at him with an innocent look. "Yes, what is it, Herus?"


    Mel''Zayer? The god of the hearth? Of marriage?


    "Zeya, just what do you think you are doing?" asked Mel''Zayer.


    "Nothing. I was merely admiring this bull," said Zeya. "The creature is magnificent, is he not?"


    Zeya. This was the goddess Zeya that Mother had worshipped all her life. She had just tried to force herself on William. He could hardly conceive of what had just happened. The degradation and insult were unbearable to him.


    Mel''Zayer obviously didn''t believe a word Zeya had said. Surely, he would call her on this. "...He is. Indeed, he is a creature of great strength. Will you give him to me, my dear?" His voice was melodious and fatherly.


    Zeya paused, caught in her lie. "Give him to you?"


    "Yes," said Mel''Zayer. "As a gift, my darling wife."


    Zeya smiled nervously. "Yes, yes, of course. You may have him with my blessing."


    Mel''Zayer put forth a hand, and from it came a golden rope that wrapped itself around William''s neck. He found his will being sapped. All he could think was that this was not fair. He had done nothing. Yet now, he was being taken into slavery for the crime of his assailant.


    "Wonderful," said Mel''Zayer. "Come, creature. I have a place for you."


    William could not disobey. His will to resist was gone.

 Chapter 348 - Ten: Tanith and Medusald

    Tanith turned the blade of the knight, then brought down her sword. She smote him across the helm, and he fell backward. Landing with a crash, he attempted to rise. But Tanith set her left foot on her sparring partner''s neck and pointed her sword at his eye.


    Just a few inches. Just a few more, and she''d gouge it out. Blood would spill. She could say it was an accident. No, no, don''t act on those urges; they were for enemies, not friends.


    "I yield," said Esgroth, laughing as he sheathed his sword. "I see your martial skills are as great as ever, Tanith."


    Tanith smiled and stepped back. "Good match, Esgroth." She spun her sword around then sheathed them. Nodding to him, she walked out, washing the sweat from her face in a fountain. Glancing up, she saw Felix standing by. He had been observing, like always. Only then did she sigh.


    "I need something to kill," said Tanith.


    "What?" said Felix.


    "You heard me. I haven''t shed any blood in days and days," said Tanith. "I hate sitting idle like this, just waiting for the winds to fix themselves."


    "Why are you so obsessed with killing?" asked Felix.


    Tanith shrugged. "I enjoy it.


    "I enjoy chess," said Felix. "I don''t feel a compulsion to go out and play it. Eitrigg had a point."


    "You''re only saying that because you''re Calishan," huffed Tanith.


    "Given that others have said it who are not Calishan, I''d say you are more than proven wrong," said Felix. "Why don''t you try sparring some more?"


    "No good," said Tanith. "Sparring is a poor substitute for real blood. I guess. Where is William? Usually, you''re his shadow."


    "He went out on his own walking last night," said Felix. "Then he never came back."


    "Well, he can take care of himself, I''m sure," said Tanith. "He''ll be back."


    "Would that that were so, daughter of Azgora," said a voice.


    Tanith looked up to see a shower of gold. Into sight appeared a white-haired beauty that Tanith would love to have sport with. She had beautiful breasts and hips that were nice and wide. She was a bit muscular for Tanith''s taste, but no one was perfect. Even so, Tanith licked her lips at the idea of covering this woman in her blood. She cutting off the air going into her lungs by clenching her fingers around her throat. She could hold it there for a minute until the woman''s face began to go blue. Then she could release it, enough so she could take a breath then...


    Her thoughts were getting a bit forward here. Tanith knew she ought not to think about women whom she''d just met like this. Mother had always told her to only think about slaves like that. And not to actually physically cut them or anything, just have her way with them. These fantasies were not healthy.


    Still, she could hardly be blamed for thinking of it. Wearing a tunic that bared legs like that, this woman was practically asking for it.


    "I''m sorry, who are you?" asked Tanith, pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind. This wasn''t the time or place.


    "I am the goddess Zeya and your ancestor," said Zeya.


    Oh, so this was the Rape Goddess then. That explained the shower of gold. She really was asking for it; it''d be no more than she deserved. What kind of slime went around raping people on her own team? "I''m fully human. I think I''d know if the Telus bloodline had any divine in it."


    "Telus?" asked Zeya.


    "Yes," said Telus. "That''s my name. Tanith Telus. What did you think it was?"


    "She isn''t related to Lady Azgora," said Felix, voice hard. "William is."


    Zeya froze. She clenched her fist and looked upward. "...Fortenex."


    "What?" said Tanith.


    "Nothing. There is a grave mission I have for you," said Zeya. "William has been captured by my husband Herus and in a faraway land. If you are to rescue him, you must come with me now."


    "Wait, what?" said Tanith. "Why would Herus want to capture William?"


    "Yes, Zeya," said Felix. "why would Herus want to capture William?"


    "That is unimportant," said Zeya quickly.


    "I think it is," said Tanith.


    There was a crack of thunder. "Do not question me, mortal! I am Zeya! Arbiter of the Heavens!"


    Zeya had tried to rape William, hadn''t she? That didn''t seem all that bad. William was far too tightly wound as it was, and there were far worse possible ways for it to happen. Although they were blood relations, so it actually was kind of sick. "...As you say, Goddess of Heaven."


    "Good," said Zeya. "Then, we will go now."


    With a motion of Zeya''s hand, they shifted. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Suddenly they were standing upon a beach of golden sand. The plants here were very different from those of Estal. The soil was rockier here, and Tanith noticed a huge ruin of white stone. It had been built with pillars rather than arches. Vines were growing up those pillars, and at the far end of a plaza, Tanith saw a tomblike structure.


    "This is the island where William has been taken," said Zeya. "He is imprisoned within.


    "What kind of resistance can we expect here exactly?" asked Felix.


    "There is only one guardian in this place," said Zeya. "A creature called a medusa. Do you know what that is?"


    "No," admitted Tanith. Although she had read about a lot of things, her expertise was focused on Harlenor. That and the surrounding nations. Duke Vanion rarely spoke of Themious.


    "She has the body of a snake and the upper body of a human," said Zeya. "Her hair is snakes, and all who look on her directly are turned to stone. Long ago, she was a priestess of mine before she was cursed."


    This medusa sounded cute. If she was Tanith, she just needed a way to deal with the stone gaze. "Why was she cursed?


    "The Fish King, Lord of the Waves, had his way with her in my Temple," said Zeya. "Thus, I transformed her into what she is. Herus has promised to lift her curse if she holds William here until he dies."


    "Did she consent?" asked Felix.


    "What?" asked Zeya.


    "Did she consent to the Fish King?" asked Felix.


    "Why should that matter? My temple was desecrated, and someone had to suffer for it," said Zeya. "Medusald was an easier target. I couldn''t afford to have a war between gods."


    "How exceedingly just of you," said Felix. "In Calisha, we prefer to punish the person responsible for the crime."


    "I know who you are, Felix," said Zeya, and her voice held a warning. "Do not presume to judge me. I have been the goddess of the heavens since before you even existed."


    "Hold on, why can''t you just kill Medusald yourself?" asked Tanith.


    "I do not want my actions to be known to Herus," admitted Zeya. "For reasons beyond your comprehension, this must remain a secret."


    "I think I understand," said Tanith. Herus had caught her in the act, hadn''t she? And this was Zeya trying to cover for her own screwups. "But I want something in return."


    "William is your friend, is he not?" asked Zeya, eyes narrowed.


    "Sure, but I''m still taking a serious risk to rescue him," said Tanith. "The first rule of working as a mercenary is never do something for free if you can get something out of it." Right now, Tanith was imagining the snake woman. She must have been a real looker to attract the attention of a god. Although it was possible, the transformation had ruined her beauty. Or maybe the Fish King just had terrible taste.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Why would the God of the Unknown want to have his way with a mortal woman? Wasn''t he supposed to be completely incomprehensible. Although maybe he wanted to try experimenting or something. Then again, all those people in the Islands of Power who had his bloodlines had to have gotten them from somewhere.


    It didn''t really matter. What mattered was the medusa.


    Okay, so if she were nice to look at, Tanith would have her way with her. If not, she''d get to kill something. Either way, she won. Tanith would decide when it came to it.


    Zeya looked at her with narrowed eyes. "I could destroy you with a word."


    "Yes, but then you''d have to find someone else to rescue William," said Tanith. "Besides, you wouldn''t go to all this trouble to free William unless you needed him for something. He and I are close. Kill me, and you alienate him."


    Zeya held her gaze for a moment. Tanith had difficulty keeping the gaze. Zeya eventually looked skyward in resignation. "...Very well, I will grant you whatever you desire, within reason, once he is freed."


    "Great," said Tanith. "So how do I kill something I can''t look at?


    "You can look at her," said Zeya. "Give me your swords."


    Tanith drew out her swords and tossed both into the air. As they came down, she caught the flats between her fingers. She offered both to Zeya, who took them in her hands. The blades flickered, and then Tanith saw her own reflection in them. It was clearer than any mirror she had seen. Zeya offered both back to Tanith, who took them.


    "See her through these blades," said Zeya, "and you will be safe from her gaze."


    "Does she sleep?" asked Felix.


    "All mortals sleep. So yes," said Zeya.


    "When does she sleep?" asked Felix.


    "At night," said Zeya.


    "All right then. Here is my plan," said Felix. "We''ll wait until nightfall when she is sleeping. When she is, I will go in there with one of those sword''s mirror, kill her in her sleep, free William, and bring him out here."


    "That is... pragmatic," said Zeya, voice disapproving.


    "It will work. Won''t it?" asked Felix.


    "Oh come on, Felix, that plan won''t let me kill anything," said Tanith. "Nothing that can''t fight back anyway. Trying to kill something I can only look at with a mirror sounds fun. Also, killing someone in their sleep is just dishonorable. I''m a knight; I''m supposed to fight people in single combat."


    "Well, Tanith, if you are in such a hurry to be turned to stone, you may try it first," said Felix. "Just leave one of your swords here so I can make my own attempt."


    "Fair enough," said Tanith. Then she drove a blade into the ground before them. "If I''m not back soon, just assume she got me."


    "There is one more thing," said Zeya "William has been transformed into the form of a white bull. You will know it by the scar over his eye."


    "How did that happen?" asked Tanith. She knew Herus had probably caught her in the act. But what connection did that have to being turned into a bull? Some sort of attempt to cover up.


    "You need not know that either," said Zeya.


    Did she seriously think she was fooling anyone? "Whatever you say."


    Her tone must have irritated Zeya. "I am a god. I need not account for anything I do to you."


    "So you did do something," said Felix.


    "I will return to this beach when you have rescued him," said Zeya. "You must not fail. This is far more important than any petty matter." She was gone in a flash of lightning.


    Felix looked to Tanith. "Are you sure you want to try and fight Medusald?"


    "Sure," said Tanith, spinning her new mirrorlike blade. "It wouldn''t seem fair, just going and cutting off her head while she was asleep."


    "Your funeral," said Felix.


    This was going to be so great.


    Tanith made her way toward the entrance. Drawing near, she entered it. To her surprise, it was quite well lit. Torches were on the walls, and her shadow was very long. She guessed that it would be difficult turning people to stone if they couldn''t see anything.


    Her suspicion was proved correct as she rounded a corner and saw a set of statues. Most of them were women and very beautiful ones at that. All were statuesque with large breasts and wide hips. There was also a pleasant tendency for their armor to bare their long legs. Tanith probably would have had great sport breaking a few of them. It was a pity they were statues now.


    She listened and kept her eyes peeled as she came to a branching hall. On a whim, she took a left, peering into the darkness. Wait, that was the last thing she should do.


    Coming to a corner, she brought up her sword and looked into the reflection. On it, she could see a hall of many pillars. And between those pillars were dozens and dozens of statues: satyrs, more of the women. A low hissing sound could be heard, but she could see nothing. Slipping around the corner she turned the blade. She saw that there was another doorway some ways away. Tanith guessed that it led into the hall she hadn''t taken.


    Stepping out into the hall, she checked past the corners using the reflection. As she did, she heard a sound, a low hissing. Raising the sword, she ducked behind a pillar and brought up the sword. In its reflection, he saw a shadow ¡ª the lower body of a snake with hips wider than were possible with any normal human. Her scales were sea green, and her waist was thin, leading up to a pair of enormous breasts covered by rags. Tanith could see two glowing green eyes as the creature came forward upon a shapely face.


    Well, she was certainly worth Tanith having her way with.


    "Well, human. I smell you and hear the footfalls of your armor," came a hissing voice. "Have you come seeking glory and my head? You will find neither?" Tanith saw her face and immediately decided she wasn''t going to cut it off. She was very beautiful.


    How to finesse this?


    "Of course not," said Tanith. "I wanted to look at you and know if you were truly as beautiful as the tales said they were. I thought they were only exaggerating."


    "...That''s a first," said Medusald. "What do you make of them then?"


    "The stories I have heard of your wondrous beauty are far short of the reality," said Tanith. "I''m certain that many jealous of you have sought to demonize you in vain."


    The medusa was drawing very near. In a few moments, she would come around the corner. Tanith moved to another pillar and hid behind that.


    "Stay still..." said Medusald. "Everyone who has ever looked at me since I became this has been turned to stone, don''t you? You lie very well, but I know you''re only doing it to get nearer to me.


    "Why else would you have come here with a drawn sword?"


    Tanith smiled. "Far from it. The radiance of your appearance is as the light of the world. Were you to walk beneath the open air, the sun itself would fade in comparison."


    "Go on," said Medusald, sounding pleased.


    Tanith bit her lip. "...Truth be told, I''m out of lines. I''m not here to kill you."


    "And what else could bring you to this place?" asked Medusald.


    "A friend of mine has been transformed into a bull and kidnapped by Herus," said Tanith with a shrug. "It all happened very quickly."


    There was hissing laughter as the snake women halted. "Well, that puts us at cross purposes. Who are you, and where have you come from?"


    "I am Tanith Telus of Haldren," said Tanith. "I''ve traveled far and won many battles. Who were you before you became this?"


    The medusa halted, and her expression became suspicion. "A priestess of Zeya, of course. Though I doubt much else is known about me now. I had two brothers and a sister. My parents were very proud of me. I sacrificed animals at the altar of Zeya and lived to serve her.


    "Then the Fish King met me, and I became... this. However, Herus has promised to break Zeya''s curse if I keep your friend here until his death. I can be free of this... form."


    If that curse got broken, the whole plan was ruined. Also, William would be dead, so that was bad too. "Is that really so appealing?"


    "Why wouldn''t it?" asked Medusald. "For a hundred years, I have been unable to interact with anyone or anything without turning them to stone. Amazons have continually come against me, seeking to slay me to prove their worth, and I am tired of it."


    "And what are your plans?" asked Tanith. "Once you''re returned to your old form?"


    "I''m not really sure," admitted Medusald. "I don''t age like this. I may wither up and die. Or I may simply have to pick up where I left off. My family is all very old if they aren''t all dead."


    "Wouldn''t it be better to have the ability to control your stone gaze?" Asked Tanith.


    "What do you mean?" asked Medusald.


    "You might not believe me, but I find you beautiful, Medusald," said Tanith. "I wish I could look at you with my own eyes. Imagine if you could still turn people to stone, but could control the power itself. If you didn''t have to worry about using it by accident, it could be very powerful. And you wouldn''t have to worry about dying of old age since you''d keep your eternal youth."


    "You really mean that, I think," said Medusald in a quiet voice. "Your voice isn''t as insincere as it was before. I spent weeks learning how to move in this form. If I were returned to how I was, I''d have to learn how to walk again. I suppose I might ask Herus for a change of contract." She drew a bit nearer near enough. "However, that is neither here nor there. You''ve given me something to think about. So I will grant you this once chance: Leave now and never return, and I will allow you to live."


    "Sounds like a fair deal," said Tanith. She took one more look to make sure she knew where Medusald was. Then she closed her eyes. "Here''s mine."


    She stepped around the corner and brought around the flat of her blade. She struck something and heard a hissing noise. There was a crash as something hit the ground. Tanith threw aside her sword and followed the sound to grab for her throat.


    She ended up missing her target and instead hit the snake-woman''s shoulder. She tumbled over her and slammed face-first into something soft but firm. She tried to reach for the woman''s throat. However, before she could, the snake tail came up and wrapped around her arms, forcing them to her side. She could hear Medusald hissing, her hot breath against her neck. The sensation of the coils wrapping around her waist was a pleasurable sensation. But she knew it would turn lethal.


    Medusald gripped her by the face, grabbing her eyelids. "You had your chance. Now open your eyes. I''d love to add you to my collection. I don''t usually get women of your-."


    Tanith leaned in and kissed her. She forced her tongue into the medusa''s mouth. The inside of her mouth was different from most of Tanith''s slaves. And she tasted a bit different. Either way, the effort did its job. The coils loosened, and Tanith had her chance.


    Bringing up her arms, she gripped Medusald by the head and smashed her against the pillar twice. Medusald slouched and fell forward onto the ground. Tanith kneeled by her and checked her pulse. Good. She was still alive. Tanith hadn''t wanted to kill her. She pulled off her cloak and threw it over Medusald''s face. Then she stood up and opened her eyes.


    "Okay, now to find William," said Tanith.


    She picked up her sword and sheathed it. Walking deeper into the statue filled room, she found a back room. Within it, she found an enclosure filled with straw. There, tied to a wall by a golden rope, was a golden bull. It had a jagged scar over its left eye.


    "William, is that you?" asked Tanith as she came forward.


    The bull made a sound and pulled upon its harness. Tanith drew her sword and got behind the bull. She brought down the blade she struck the rope. It held firm, and her sword bounced off. Bringing down her blade a second time it frayed. A will was set against her, demanding she leaves and never return. But Tanith was never one to listen. A third blow cut full through the rope.


    "Great," said Tanith. "Come on, William. Don''t look at the medusa on your way out; her face will turn you to stone."


    She led William quickly out of the shrine and into the light. Outside she found Felix sitting upon the beach. His red sword was placed over his knees, and he was sketching pictures in the sand with a stick. He looked up. "Oh, you''re back. Good. William, is that you?"


    The bull nodded.


    Zeya appeared in a flash. "Finally, it is done. Now I will remove the spell at once." She raised a hand, and it glowed.


    The bull shifted and became writhed in light. That light then took on the form of a human. Then William was standing before them in full battle armor. He glared at Zeya silently. "Give me one reason I shouldn''t cut your head from your shoulders right now."


    Zeya met his gaze with pride. "Ingratitude suits no one, young Gabriel. I have saved you-"


    "From a danger which you put me in in the first place! After-" he struggled to speak.


    "I did not know your lineage when I made my advances," said Zeya.


    "Oh, you didn''t know my lineage," said William. "Well, that certainly means absolutely nothing!" And his hand went for his sword.


    Tanith caught him. "William, calm down. She''s our only way home."


    William remained silent, looking between her, then Felix, then Zeya. "Very well. Thank you, Tanith, for rescuing me from that dungeon. Do you have a means of escape?"


    "Yes. Zeya," said Tanith.


    "I see," said William.


    He turned away.


    Tanith didn''t see what he was so upset about. Gods did this kind of thing all the time. Anyway, he probably would have enjoyed it. It didn''t really matter either way. "Zeya, about my wish."


    Zeya looked further annoyed. "Yes, what is your desire?"


    "I want you to make it so that Medusald can control whether she turns people to stone when she looks at them," said Tanith. She supposed she could have wished for something else. But Tanith sort of felt sorry for Medusald and she didn''t envy her the headache she''d have.


    Zeya looked stunned. "You mean you didn''t kill her?"


    "No, I hit her with the flat of my blade and knocked her unconscious," said Tanith. "Now, are you going to grant my wish or not?"


    "You should kill her," said Zeya. "When she dies, the curse on all those turned to stone will be broken. Otherwise, they will remain trapped forever."


    "That''s not my problem," said Tanith.


    "...Are you sure you don''t wish for me to return those within to flesh from the stone?" asked Zeya. "Many of them were valiant warriors. And they were sent here to achieve your task before you."


    So, the truth came out, Zeya wanted to use Tanith as her personal hitman. Why hadn''t she just tossed a lightning bolt at Medusald to begin with anyway? Well, Zeya was the Goddess of Heroes, maybe she set Medusald up as the victim of a heroic narrative. What was a hero without monsters to slay, after all?


    That was really sick, actually. "Sure, if you''ll do that alongside my request for Medusald," said Tanith. "As long as they aren''t allowed to hurt her."


    "You''re making three wishes now," said Zeya.


    "If you don''t want to restore those women to flesh, that''s your choice," said Tanith. "I''m only interested in the medusa and her safety. The statues in there aren''t my responsibility. She turned them to stone when they were trying to kill her, fair and square. And I didn''t ask them to come here, you did."


    "But surely you would have suffered their fate if you had failed," said Zeya.


    "But I didn''t fail, so we have nothing in common," said Tanith. Then she thought maybe she could wish the women in there be returned to flesh as her obedient slaves. However, Tanith decided that wouldn''t really be right.


    Besides, being able to control her stone gaze would help Medusald a lot. Much more than having a harem of obedient slavegirls would help Tanith. So, Tanith supposed she ought to take it.


    Zeya shifted and looked to the temple. "...Very well, then. I shall do as you wish and return the women to flesh as well. And I shall guarantee the safety of Medusald."


    Raising a hand, there was a shifting. Great, now Tanith could go back in there and finish what she started. Admittedly she''d have to seduce her, but it wouldn''t exactly be hard. Anyway, Medusald owed her now.


    Maybe Tanith could also learn a bit more about Themious from those women. This region of the world was a bit of a blind spot for her. That actually sounded a lot more fun than seducing Medusald. William liked history nearly as much as Tanith did, and she didn''t want to make him uncomfortable.


    Also, they could provide Medusald some much-needed protection on her way out. Tanith didn''t trust Zeya much.


    "It is done," said Zeya. "Now, I will transport us back."


    "No wait-" began Tanith too late.


    And they were gone.


    What a complete waste! This was a real chance to learn about another culture! And she didn''t even get to kill anything!

 Chapter 349 - Eleven: Ancient History

    Kiyora felt like she was being tossed and turned within a stormy sea. She saw a thousand worlds as she was thrown from one dream to another. And a thousand different futures. She felt as though she would be carried away and lost.


    Then she saw her world. The place she had grown up and lived all her life. Except now, it seemed more like a toy castle than a true world. Before her eyes, it began to fade. She reached out for it, but her fingertips passed through. Then, a wave washed against her, and she was washed away. She tried to fight against the current, but it was too strong. It was dragging her inexorably toward a predetermined future. And in that future, she beheld an elf but clad in black armor. Though why she had it baring her arms and legs was beyond Kiyora. Probably style points. Anyway, her skin was dark green, and her eyes flared yellow. Wings like those of a dragon were on either side of her back, and her hands were huge claws.


    Yet the alternative was... worse.


    Kiyora saw before her something or someone. It was a creature of the purest malice, cohesive yet at war with itself. Its tendrils reached across the universe, pulling upon the minds of every being at every time. Within its formless mass was undying torment and endless screams. And the elf before it alone was independent; she alone was free of corruption.


    She alone could purge it.


    She should probably lay off the drugs. Either way, her arms were limp and powerless. Her mind was drifting. Little by little, she was losing herself to one or the other. Who was she?


    She felt things. A desire for power. A plan to gain complete dominion over all things as was her destiny. Yet she could not remember her name. Wait, it was coming to her. Her name was...


    Arraxia. Was that it? It did not feel right.


    Of course, it did not feel right. Arraxia was but the name given to her magnificence in a vain attempt to explain her. It was her destiny to rise above all this. Rise and reign over all that could be and would be.


    This did not seem like her. But a will forced her down, and she thought like Arraxia. No, like herself. No...


    Then, there was a flaring of orange light from above. "Don''t let her control you, Kiyora," said a voice she remembered. "You are stronger than this. What you feel now is her trying to draw your will into her own.


    "But you are the stronger."


    The orange light came to her. And memories came rushing back. She was Kiyora Yagos, and she was herself.


    Before she was a familiar figure, clad in white garments, descending. With what strength remained to her, she reached out, and he grasped her hand. Then she was pulled up and came face to face with her rescuer. "Tenius?" Then she paused. "No, Ictargo. What is going on here?"


    "There is no time," said Ictargo. He drew her hand and pressed it against his chest. "Take my power. Take it before it is too late!"


    Orange light surged from his heart into hers. Suddenly, Kiyora felt stronger. Much stronger, and she could stay out of the currents by her own power. Rising out of them, she and Ictargo separated. Then, she found herself standing in the usual field of flowers. And Alchara was standing before her.


    Yet now Alchara was arrayed for battle. Her eyes were glowing gold. "What did you do? What was that?"


    Alchara said nothing at first. "Well, you''ve been busy."


    "Alchara, what the hell is going on?" asked Kiyora. "Why did the world start falling apart like that? And how is it connected to me?"


    "What makes you think it is connected to you?" asked Alchara.


    "I don''t know. Maybe because Emperor Ictargo showed up out of nowhere and gave me an injection of power," said Kiyora. Why was it she never told her anything? "I figured it had something to do with me. And another thing, I was talking with the Prince of Calisha. He said I was the reincarnation of someone called Queen Dreamer.


    "There is something you aren''t telling me, isn''t there?"


    Alchara sighed. "... I''d hoped not to explain this just yet. I wanted to wait until you were mature."


    "You aren''t my mother nor my mentor," snapped Kiyora. "I don''t even like you. Stop pontificating and tell me what the hell is going on."


    "No, you''re right," said Alchara. "You are my sister, and your will is bound to this world."


    That was the stupidest thing Kiyora had ever heard. "Uh, no, I''m not."


    Alchara said nothing.


    "Well?" said Kiyora.


    "Well, I would go into more detail, but that requires me to explain some ancient history," said Alchara. "And you''ve made it clear you don''t care about any of that so I won''t bother you."


    "We don''t have time for this!" said Kiyora.


    "This domain exists outside time and space," said Alchara. "We have all the time in the universe."


    "Okay," said Kiyora. "Fine."


    They waited, and Kiyora crossed her arms. Alchara remained silent. Finally, Kiyora''s patience was exhausted. "Oh, fine. What is the history?"


    Alchara smiled. "Long ago, when this universe was still being formed, there were three goddesses. I was the eldest, Laevian the middle and Dreamora, the youngest. We were meant to be the patron goddesses of the elves. Every race had its own God."


    "Let me guess. You screwed it up," said Kiyora.


    "There were complications," said Alchara. "You see, there were three races of elves. High Elves, who were mine, and I taught them to have a kinship and an ability to order things. The Dust Elves, who belonged to Laevian, created great land growth. Finally, there were Dreamer Elves who were the last to awaken and had a mastery over the spirit world."


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "Hang on a sec," said Kiyora. "I''ve been paying attention all this time, and I know that the Dreamer Elves are a young race. Younger than humans."


    "Yes," said Alchara. "Because the satyrs completely wiped out the original Dreamer Elves. They slaughtered them all to the last child. As a result, Dremora became a minor goddess who helped us with our people.


    "For a time, things went well. Her skills allowed many things to flourish. But the High Elves never forgot what happened to their kin. Many became vengeful and hunted both humans and satyrs relentlessly. We were angry, and so we did not stop them."


    "I''m guessing this was how the whole cycle of revenge between human and elf started," said Kiyora.


    "You might say that," said Alchara. "As time passed, we did rein in our peoples, but the damage was done. The bitter seeds that the satyrs planted soon bore full fruit with the rise of Anoa the Butcher. He rampaged across the world of Erian and drove the High Elves near to extinction."


    "But there are other worlds with other high elves, aren''t there?" Asked Kiyora.


    "The worlds are all connected, Kiyora," said Alchara. "What happens in one affects the others. Every action by every mortal being has consequences that change the entire universe. And it did not stop with Anoa. For after his "ascension into heaven," a new enemy appeared. Melchious. And he went from world to world, sewing discord and causing mass carnage."


    "Wait a minute, Arraxia told William that Melchious was a satyr. One descended from Fortenex," said Kiyora.


    "Arraxia bent the truth to seem more important than she was," said Alchara. "One of his incarnations was born a satyr and ascended to become an extension of his will. The Vulture of Melchious."


    "So she was lying?" asked Kiyora.


    "Does she seem reliable to you?" asked Alchara. "She is nearly as arrogant and narcissistic as you are."


    "Good point," conceded Kiyora.


    "At any rate, Melchious actions set in motion a chain of events that nearly purged all High Elves. Not just on this world, but from all the worlds," said Alchara. "Laevian didn''t even care. She had already defected over to Elranor''s side rather than send help."


    "I knew she was evil," muttered Kiyora. "So how did they stop Melchious?"


    "A great hero named Ictargo confronted him and destroyed his avatar. Then Ictargo descended into hell and wounded him terribly," said Alchara. "It took Melchious many centuries to recover from the wounds he suffered. In that time, I was able to restore the High Elves.


    "However, the victory was at a terrible price. With my people''s slaughter, my power had diminished. And to such a point, I could no longer house all of them in my afterlife.


    "Dreamora came up with a solution. She would create a new world, attuned with the spirits of all worlds. There, the souls of those High Elves I could not house could be reincarnated. However, to do this, she had to disperse her consciousness throughout this world. The strain of it killed her. Only temporarily, of course. In time, her consciousness would be able to resurface and take form within that world."


    "So me," said Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Alchara.


    "And you didn''t want to tell me this because why?" asked Kiyora.


    "Because, well-intentioned or no, you are a spoiled brat who isn''t as smart as she thinks she is," said Alchara. "You are reckless; think you are always right. And you tend to judge people based on surface appearances.


    "If you are like this now, I shudder to comprehend what you would have been like with full knowledge of what you were."


    "Another good point," admitted Kiyora. "So how does this play into the world falling apart? And how does Calisha fit into all this."


    "You have been using a truly massive amount of power, Kiyora," said Alchara. "First to banish Laughing Wraith, then to drive him out of Laurus. And also rousing all the trees of the Iron Kingdom to liberate the place. All of these things have been done for a good cause, but they have weakened you badly.


    "To be honest, Melchious has been waging a war of attrition all this time. He was tempting you into repeatedly countering him until you exhausted yourself. Thus dooming us all.


    "And it has nearly worked. When you use your powers, you naturally sap away at the fabric, keeping this world intact. To make matters worse, you have an inherent connection to Arraxia. One forged through Baltoth''s Retribution. She has hardly used any of her power with the Void Stone. Yet with Axe of Fortenex, she has increased in strength exponentially.


    "Before Ictargo saved you, you were on the verge of falling into her domination."


    "You know what would have helped me not let this happen," said Kiyora. "Knowing all of this. Or some of this, for that matter." S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It was a calculated risk," said Alchara. "If Arraxia hadn''t gotten the Void Stone, your investments in the world would have borne fruit. You would, in a few years, be far more powerful."


    "And who the hell are you to make calculated risks with my entire species?!" said Kiyora.


    "God," said Alchara flatly.


    "Oh no, you aren''t!" said Kiyora. "If you were the God you pretend to be, then you''d have known exactly how everything I did would turn out! You didn''t! Arraxia blindsided both of us!


    "But if I''d known that my miracles were endangering my world, I wouldn''t have cut back on them. I would have done a hard stop months ago and explained the situation to Bjorn. The Nakmar would have understood and probably made some extra sacrifices or something.


    "You should have told me about this!"


    "Perhaps I should have," said Alchara. "But it is the moot point at the moment. We must deal with the present situation."


    "Fine, so my world is the spirit world," mused Kiyora. "And William''s world is the real one."


    "Don''t be foolish," said Arraxia. "Reality is entirely subjective and varies based on individual experience. Especially your world. The only thing you can be truly sure of is that you exist."


    "Right, okay," said Kiyora. "So I should just do a hard stop to all miracles and do-gooding and give a full explanation as to why."


    "I would keep on playing the part of a Dream Sage," said Alchara.


    "Doesn''t that count as a miracle?" asked Kiyora.


    "No, because you are using the innate power to your mortal form," said Alchara. "As long as you don''t use the Dreaming Goddess''s power, it should be fine. Moreover, the barriers between the worlds have weakened. The defenses I have erected will need all the help they can get.


    "Eventually, you will regain enough of your power to continue as you have been."


    "Right, okay. What about Arraxia?" asked Kiyora. "Now, are you going to tell me what my relationship was to the Empire of Calisha or not?"


    "The quest to retrieve the Void Stone is just about to begin," said Alchara.


    "But what about-" began Kiyora.


    "Baltoth was in love with you," snapped Alchara. "When Valranor threw his weight around, you played on Baltoth''s pride. You set them against one another. Calisha was the alias you used when meeting with him. He named his country after who he thought you were.


    "Actually, I have an idea."


    "What is it?" asked Kiyora.


    "If you take on a mortal form again in Seathorius for the quest. It would decrease the power you spend in your dreams," said Alchara.


    "But what good could I be to anyone without my powers?" asked Kiyora.


    "You have one that could be of great service and will cost us nothing," said Alchara.


    "And what''s that?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh, for think for a moment, Kiyora!" said Alchara. "You share an innate connection with Arraxia. And Arraxia''s will extends outwards to all her subjects. Using that connection, you may easily locate where she and her servants are."


    "Oh, right," said Kiyora. "Good idea. Okay, I''ll do it."


    "You are very quick to agree to things," noted Alchara.


    "Well, the way I see it, Arraxia is using the Void Stone to cause all kinds of trouble," said Kiyora. "If I can stop her, then it''s a good thing."


    "I believe she is actually only practicing," said Alchara. "She wants to fully master the use of the stone before she tries waging any wars of conquest with it. If she made use of the full potential of the Void Stone and the Axe of Fortenex, very few could stand against her."


    "Well, that''s decided," said Kiyora. "When do I start?"


    "Right now would be appropriate," said Alchara. "The faster we get rid of the Void Stone, the better. Your suggestion that we organize a quest ahead of time was one of the few good decisions you''ve ever made."


    The field faded, and Kiyora found herself standing before Queen Dawn. She felt that same sensation. The one she''d felt when she woke up after looking into Laevian''s mirror. She''d taken on mortal form again. She could feel the ground beneath her feet and the common pains she was spared as a goddess. But she hadn''t tried to do it.


    As if it had been done for her.


    Queen Dawn was signing documentation at a desk. She looked up. "Those going on the quest are waiting outside." She said. Then she rang a bell on her desk.


    The door opened, and the company walked in.

 Chapter 350 - Twelve: Three Companions

    There were three of them, as Dawn had said before.


    The first elf Kiyora had met once before. He had thin cheeks and white hair. His cloak was brown, and he wore no armor. However, at his side was a simple but elegant sword. When he saw Kiyora, his eyes narrowed at once.


    The second was Twilus, now dressed in travel clothes. She had at her side a small knife, and she was looking around with curious eyes. Her hand was scratching the third member of the quest behind the ears.


    The third member was a huge gray wolf. Its tongue was hanging out, and it was panting happily.


    "Twilus, Evensen, I have found the third member of your company," said Dawn.


    "I thought the third member of our company was Snooky," said Twilus.


    What kind of name was Snooky?


    "...The fourth member of our company" said Dawn. "This is Kiyora Yagos. The Dreaming Goddesses mortal avatar. She has come to aid you in your quest."


    "Why?" asked Evensen. "She is half responsible for this in the first place."


    "Realpolitik," said Kiyora with a shrug.


    Dawn glared at her.


    "By which I mean that Arraxia has gone mad and must be stopped for the betterment of all who live," Kiyora amended.


    "I liked your first answer better," said Evensen. "I actually believed it."


    "Good," said Kiyora. "Because she''s been causing all kinds of havoc back home, and I need to get that stupid rock out of her hands."


    "You should know, Evensen, that it was Kiyora who told us of the Void Stone in the first place," said Queen Dawn. "Without her, we may well have learned of it when she unleashed an army of undead upon us."


    "Wow, that was really nice of you," said Twilus.


    "How long do we have?" asked Evensen.


    "Well, judging from past records, I estimate that we have, perhaps, two or three weeks," said Dawn.


    "Past records?" asked Kiyora.


    "My records on how long it takes to use powerful artifacts. I have gotten into the habit of keeping extensive records," said Dawn. "Knowledge is power. And since my race is always outnumbered, I need all the power I can get." She paused. "Of course, my records merely record how long until Arraxia can fully wield the power of the Void Stone. "She may get overconfident-"


    "She will," said Kiyora.


    "-and try to use it before she is ready," said Dawn.


    "She has," said Kiyora. "She''s been using my hometown as ground zero." She paused. "How do you not know this?"


    "I may be Alchara''s mortal avatar," said Dawn. "However, I only have those memories of hers that pertain to this world. Yours is not my concern."


    "Ah, right," said Kiyora.


    Stolen story; please report.


    "Now you had best set out immediately," said Dawn. "Kiyora, you should use your powers sparingly. It is better if you instead use your connection with the trees of this land to guide them."


    "Okay," said Kiyora. That sounded easy.


    "Then prepare yourselves. The time has come," said Dawn. "You three have each taken up this quest of your own free will. Come back with the Void Stone, or not at all.


    "Evensen, you are to be the leader of this expedition. Lead them well."


    "I shall, Queen Dawn," said Evensen, voice hard. "I promise you I will not stand before you again until I have the Void Stone in hand."


    Then Dawn raised a hand. Into it appeared a golden minstrels harp, well polished. It shone with an unworldly light and floated toward Twilus, who took it in hand.


    "Twilus, I give you the Goldenwood Harp," said Dawn. "It has the power within it to enhance your sorcery. Use it sparingly. For its power can become a crutch. And return it when all is finished."


    "Right," said Twilus, "I''ll bring it right back, Queen Dawn."


    Dawn looked to Kiyora. "Kiyora... don''t screw this up."


    "Yeah, I hate you too," said Kiyora.


    The other two looked at Kiyora in shock. "What? I''m a goddess in mortal form. I''m allowed to sass her."


    "All that in mind, get going. Now," said Dawn.


    Evensen led them out of the office. Kiyora followed behind him and Twilus, hands in her pockets. The wolf, Snooky, sniffed at her as she walked, then growled.


    "Go bother someone else," Said Kiyora.


    Snooky ran up to Twilus.


    The group made their way through a series of halls. As they did, Kiyora noticed a number of elves speaking in the halls. One of them pointed at Evensen and whispered something to his compatriots. Whatever it was, it got a round of laughter. Evensen''s hand went to his sword before he let go and looked away.


    They soon got out of the halls and scaled-down a winding stair. They still hadn''t installed handrailings. Making their way down, Evensen brought them to the river. There, tied to a pier, was a boat with several packs and other supplies in it. Evensen began untying the ship.


    "So why exactly did Dawn choose you two?" asked Kiyora.


    "Oh me?" said Twilus. "Well, I''ve been her student for years and years, and I wanted to go on adventures and become a great hero. Do you think we''ll run into any dragons on our way through? Oh, I''d love to talk to a dragon. Maybe he''ll have a memory of the elder days like Queen Dawn."


    "I''ve been a goddess of Seathorius for hundreds of years," said Kiyora. "I''ve never heard of any dragons here. My guess is they all died out in these parts."


    "Not true," said Twilus. "There might be some society of ancient dragons. Maybe they have survived for millennia in absolute secrecy. And we''ll stumble across them and be able to convince them to come out and join in the worship of Alchara."


    "I think I see why Queen Dawn assigned you this mission," said Kiyora. If she had to put up with this daily, she''d arrange a suicide mission too. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "We should travel north as quickly as possible, Twilus," said Evensen. "I''ve had my birds scour the region since my defeat. Baltoth''s Retribution seems to always be near the northern border. We should go into Artarq then backtrack toward the fortress."


    "Why not go straight there?" asked Kiyora.


    "Because the demoness Arraxia will be watching the south and the east," said Evensen in irritation. "Artarq she regards as a secure border so that it will be less well defended. I would think you would know this since you were her ally."


    "Look, if we go east, we can meet up with the Nakmar," said Kiyora. "They''ll be able to give us better directions. And anyway I don''t know the trees to the north as well as the ones here. They won''t be as much help."


    "Can you not command them?" asked Evensen.


    "I''d love to. Unfortunately, somebody tried invading me," said Kiyora. "So, I''m a bit low on power."


    "I think Kiyora''s way is best, Evensen," said Twilus.


    "Why?" asked Evensen.


    "Well, both have risks and benefits," said Twilus. "But Kiyora''s way will be faster. Right, Snooky."


    Snooky barked. What kind of wolf barked?


    "Yes, that''s right," said Twilus. "Who''s a good boy. Also, we''ll be able to talk with the Nakmar and learn about their culture."


    "Whatever the case," said Evensen, "north of here lies a satyr village. I want to be a way north of it before we go to shore."


    "But the satyrs haven''t ambushed anyone in months and months," said Twilus. "Not since Duke Vanion brooked a peace between Arraxia and Antion."


    "I still don''t want to be seen by them," said Evensen. "Arraxia has many spies."


    "Oh, we''ll be seen. Count on it," said Kiyora. "Which is why we should go to the Nakmar."


    "Explain," said Eversen.


    "The Nakmar have huge tunnels reaching all over the inside of the earth," said Kiyora. "If we go to one of them, we could get pretty close to Baltoth''s Retribution without having to worry about being seen. If Arraxia notices us, we can say we''re emissaries negotiating trade deals or something.


    "After all, if we were plotting against her, why would we appear so obviously before her?"


    "Actually, that''s a good idea," said Twilus.


    "Very well," said Evensen. "We''ll put to shore at the satyr village. However, I expect our boat will be stolen in the process. And even if it isn''t, we won''t be able to escape the same way with the Void Stone in hand."


    They untied the boat. Then they began to row it north. The current was against them, and it was constant work going against it. As Kiyora watched Twilus and Evensen work at it, something occurred. "You never really answered my question, Evensen. Why did Dawn choose you?"


    "Because I have nothing to lose," snapped Evensen. "My entire army was defeated without inflicting a single casualty on my enemies. Our arms were taken from us, as was the standard. My family has all but disowned me, my friends have forgotten me, and my career is over.


    "If I succeed at this, I may regain some measure of honor. If I fail, I lose nothing."


    Kiyora almost felt sorry for him. Then she remembered that Alchara had planned to commit genocide against the satyrs. All of a sudden, that sympathy magically went away. "Well, you weren''t a very good commander anyway. Probably for the best."


    "That''s a bit mean," said Twilus.


    "No, seriously," said Kiyora. "He just sort of rushed into the woods with no plan. Sure Arraxia and I can manipulate the layout of the land. But even if we hadn''t, we probably could have destroyed his army. We would have lost a few people, but it would have been easy.


    "If he''d been any good as a commander, we wouldn''t have beaten him that easily. And anyway, if he had won, he would have killed all the satyrs, down to the last child. Alchara was planning a genocide. Frankly, you guys got off lightly."


    "But satyrs are always evil," said Twilus.


    "Right," said Kiyora, "which is why they have a working truce with Duke Vanion. And why they make a killing selling their wines to foreign countries."


    Eversen glared daggers at her, and Kiyora glared right back. Snooky yawned and rolled over on his belly. This battle of wills continued for some hours. Until at last, they came within sight of the satyr village.


    Time to put Kiyora''s acting skills to the test.

 Chapter 351 - Thirteen: Satyr Beliefs

    The satyr village was nothing like the one Kiyora had rescued William from. It had been built of stone instead of wood. A large wall was under construction around the perimeter. Satyr archers could be seen on top of it, their bows bent and trained on the boat as Evensen rowed them toward it.


    The water was serene as always, and the plants and chirping of colorful birds were very nice. Kiyora wondered if any dangerous monsters were waiting out there. Leaning back in the boat, she saw Twilight checking the strings of her harp. She cared for her harp as William did, but she seemed to enjoy it more. For William, it was like polishing his armor.


    As they pulled into the pier, a massive white-furred satyr came forward with a group of guards. He wore two scimitars, including one of elvish origin. The elvish blade looked like an officer''s sword with elegant designs. When Evensen saw it, his eyes narrowed, and his hand clenched around his sword.


    Twilus stopped him from drawing it. Her hand clasped around his before he could move.


    "You, hold where you are." said the white satyr. "Who are you who intrudes upon the territory of Doltier?" Then he saw Kiyora. "Oh no. Not you again."


    Now Kiyora remembered him. This was that satyr who was always hanging around Arraxia. He was like her... butler or bodyguard or something to that effect. Hadn''t he attacked Felix and William when they were crossing the Haldrenian straight? Wait, did that mean he''d survived a fight with Raynald and Rusara? He''s got to be a lot stronger than Kiyora thought. "Nice to see you too, Doltier. I''m taking these two emissaries of Qor'' dana to my high priest, Bjorn. We are to discuss business."


    "And why are you landing here?" asked Doltier. His gaze was on them with obvious suspicion, and Kiyora couldn''t blame him. You couldn''t trust anyone these days.


    "Well, I figured you might want to know why we are here," said Kiyora. "So we all understand that these people are under my protection and are not a threat to your people. Also, I''d like to request leave to walk across your land."


    "You never asked leave before," noted Doltier.


    "Well, there is always a first time," said Kiyora.


    Doltier held her in his gaze. Finally, he shrugged. "So be it," He looked to a black female satyr with a staff. "Sadira lead these three to the border."


    "Hang on a sec," said Kiyora, raising a hand. "I remember you. Didn''t you used to command Doltier?" That was right; she''d planned to ransom William to Vanion and kill Felix. At least until Kiyora had sprung, William and Felix had burned her village down.


    Bad luck.


    "Yes," said Sadira.


    "That was when Melchious ruled," said Doltier. "Now I rule the satyrs in Arraxia''s name."


    "Wow, nice work," said Kiyora. "You''ve gone from bodyguard to King. Pretty quick promotion."


    "I was always more than a bodyguard," snapped Doltier.


    No doubt history would say so.


    "They have some powerful artifacts," said Sadira. "We should eat them."


    "I give orders according to Arraxia''s will. And Arraxia commands that the truce continue," said Doltier. "Now obey, or the children of the village will feast on you instead of sheep for the next festival!"


    "Doltier, merchant vessels are approaching." said a satyr.


    Doltier looked up, then breathed out in relief. Obviously he''d been waiting for this a long time. "Finally. Get together the wine. We''ll make them pay a pretty penny for their luxuries." He looked back to Kiyora. "You, get out of my sight, all of you."


    Eversen glowered at him but turned and followed Sadira without a word. Kiyora walked onward, just glad to be getting out in one piece. "So why so angry about Doltier?" she asked. "Did he steal your ancestral weapon?"


    "Yes," said Eversen. "That blade was my grandfather''s and his grandfather''s before. It dates back to long before the fall of Qaladash, the last great elven realm. Of which Qur''dana was only a colony.


    "To have been held by a satyr is a humiliation to my house."


    "Wow, tough break." said Kiyora. "Maybe you''ll be able to get it back later." She looked back to the fast flowing river and decided to enjoy it. Who knew when they''d get another chance.


    "He would die in the attempt," said Sadira. "Doltier is the greatest warrior of all the tribes." Her voice was proud.


    Kiyora wondered why no one else seemed to appreciate nature. Maybe it was because she lived in safe and urban environments. At the same time, they lived in the wilds. Twilight followed her gaze and seemed to appreciate it as well.


    "I don''t understand why anyone would buy wine from satyrs," said Twilight.


    "Well, it is the best," said Kiyora. "Satyrs are as good at making wine as dwarves are at making weapons and mining."


    "We aren''t just the best," snapped Sadira. "We invented wine. And beer. The dwarves just got a taste for it. Now come quickly. I''ll lead you to the nearest Nakmar settlement we know of." And she led them into the woods. Kiyora made contact with the minds of the trees and asked them to guide their trail.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Thus, they walked quickly through the trees. The path they took was swift and sure, and the brambles made no attempt to stop them. The birds were singing, and some of the flowers they saw weren''t carnivorous. It was an oddly beautiful and safe journey, and Kiyora had the feeling she wouldn''t get it again.


    "I thought Nakmar hid the doors to their settlements," said Twilight.


    "They do," said Kiyora, realizing she was the guide here. Not them. "But they also have passages they keep out in the open to trade with surface dwellers in times of peace. Each passage is built so it can be collapsed. It was my idea, actually.


    "Even if you know where something is, it doesn''t mean you can find it.


    "Remember when you tried to invade us?"


    "Yes," said Eversen. "All too well."


    Kiyora had completely crushed that guy. No casualties were inflicted or taken, mostly because Doltier let him go out of pity. Or because Arraxia ordered it; either way, it was good. Qor''Danas had never lived down the humiliation. But if the High Elves wanted a good reputation, they shouldn''t have tried to commit genocide.


    "Right," said Kiyora. "All I had to do was keep shifting the land so that no matter where you walked, you went nowhere. Eventually, you ran out of food, and I got you to surrender." sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "And we didn''t get any food from it," said Sadira.


    "Oh, quit whining," said Kiyora. "The world didn''t end just because you didn''t get to cannibalize your enemies."


    "That is the problem," said Sadira. "When we devour one of our enemies, their lifeforce goes to the great and nameless satyr god. Even now, he is forming in the depths of hell. With every person we devour, he grows stronger.


    "One day, when he has grown strong enough, he will awaken with a new name. Then he will devour all the universe in blood and horror."


    "Oh," said Kiyora. "Um, wasn''t Melchious your god?"


    "He was the one who revealed the truth to us," said Sadira. "We offered him prayers because the satyr god has not yet awakened. When he does, our worship will shift to him."


    "So how does Arraxia fit into this?" asked Kiyora.


    "Power by nature belongs to those strong enough to hold it," said Sadira. "Melchious has been overthrown. Since Arraxia has proved, the stronger we will worship her until such a time as he reclaims his domain."


    "But why would you ever worship something so vile?" asked Twilus.


    "All things kill and die," said Sadira. "For one to live, another must die. The hunter must kill animals for his family to eat. The farmer who reaps a harvest must first end the lives of the plants he grows. The Lord must slaughter his enemies to keep his people''s loyalty.


    "Melchious kills with every word he speaks. Thus, he is our God."


    "Okay," said Kiyora, "so why do you want this satyr god to devour everything?"


    "Because we don''t like you very much," said Sadira.


    "Me in particular?" asked Kiyora. "Or non-satyrs in general."


    "Yes," said Sadira.


    "Still convinced these creatures shouldn''t be purged?" asked Evensen.


    "Of course," said Kiyora. "At least they have an ideology. They aren''t doing this for no reason.


    That means they can be reasoned with."


    "Don''t count on it," said Sadira. "We should have slaughtered this fool and all his soldiers after they invaded."


    "If you''d killed the elves, it would have caused all kinds of problems down the line," said Kiyora. "I''m sure they taste very good. But a light snack is not worth a political fiasco."


    "Do you have any idea how hard it is to get elf meat?" asked Sadira.


    "Can we change the subject?" asked Twilight.


    "Sure," said Kiyora.


    "Right," said Twilight, "um, why did you take mortal form?"


    "Eh, I was bored. Felt like having an adventure," lied Kiyora. "Nothing too elaborate about that."


    She didn''t want to show weakness, especially in front of a satyr.


    They traveled through the lands of Seathorius for several days. The roots at their feet were hard to walk over, and it was usually very dark. Kiyora somewhat enjoyed it at first. It was sort of like a hike. Of course, after the first day, it stopped being a hike and started getting unpleasant.


    At night, Sadira and Evensen would glare at each other. Twilus tried playing the harp and proved very adept at it. Then again, the Goldenwood Harp could make any combination of notes sound beautiful. Kiyora still remembered when William had had it.


    "Hey, um," began Twilight, "I was wondering if I could sing a song."


    "Alchara above, no!" said Kiyora.


    "You could," said Sadira. "If you''re all right with me cutting your throat."


    "Right, um, okay. That''s a no," said Twilight. "See, I thought that since Sadira explained some things about her culture, we ought to do the same."


    "Well, don''t sing," said Kiyora. "Tell a story or something."


    "I don''t care about your culture," said Sadira. "Or you, for that matter."


    "Ah," said Twilight. "Well, then I won''t bother you."


    The next morning, they pressed on and finally came to the side of a hill. Here, Sadira halted and tapped her staff twice against the ground. "Here we are."


    "I don''t see anything," said Evensen.


    "You don''t have to," said Kiyora, walking over to the hillside and banging on the rock. "Hang on a sec. Hey, open up in there! We''ve got emissaries of Queen Dawn!"


    There was silence for a moment. Then there was a low grinding noise as the side of the wall opened before them. King Wiglaf Houndslasher looked through, accompanied by guards. "Dreaming Goddess. You have retaken mortal form."


    "Long story. I''ll tell you later, Houndslasher," said Kiyora. Then she looked at Sadira. "Thank you, Sadira, for taking us this far. Um, could you get her a waterskin or something? She''s been of some help."


    "I neither need nor want it," said Sadira before turning and stalking off.


    "... You''d best come in and explain what all this is about, Queen Yagos," said Houndslasher.


    "What were you doing so near this area?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''ve been expecting payment from the otters," said Houndslasher. We''ve also received our share of the treasure from pilgrims. The mirror of Laevian has become very popular."


    "Oh good," said Kiyora. Then she looked back at the others. "Both of you follow me."


    They walked through. As they did, Twilus hit her head on the top of the wall. "Ow."


    "Oh, and watch your head," said Kiyora. "These tunnels were made for dwarves."


    Snooky sniffed suspiciously at the tunnels. It took a lot of coaxing to get him to follow them in.


    Kiyora was really starting to hate that wolf.

 Chapter 352 - Fourteen: Hospitality Violated

    William and his friends got back to Estal near midnight. They made their way into the port and found Eitrigg praying near the guard post. He opened his eyes as they approached. "Ah, William Gabriel. We had wondered where you had gone."


    "I have no intention of discussing the matter," said William, not caring if it was harsh. "I''ll write it down in my next book." Perhaps. He didn''t even want to think about it.


    Tanith shrugged. "It wasn''t that bad. Medusald was easy on the eyes. And Zeya was-"


    "We''re not discussing it," snapped William.


    "Ah," said Eitrigg, "well, you''ll be happy to know that Princess Cassandra''s return may well be arranged. There were concessions and gifts on both sides. Still, we were concerned for you and your companions. We almost sent out search parties."


    "It could not be helped, Eitrigg," said Tanith with a smirk. "The gods work in mysterious ways."


    "Nothing mysterious about it," muttered William before stalking past him.


    "Where is King Estal now?" asked Tanith as they hurried to catch up.


    "I''m Meeting with the Cyclops king," said Eitrigg. "This is the first time they have met together, so it is a great occasion. The location is on neutral ground, near the border. They chose the very orchard where the first skirmish took place."


    "Very poetic," said William.


    "You seem in a very foul mood," said Eitrigg.


    "Being transformed into a bull after nearly being raped can do that to a man," said William.


    "What?" said Eitrigg. "Just what has been going on here?"


    "I told you I''m not talking about it," said William. "Come on, Tanith, Felix, let''s get something to eat."


    "Actually, about that, you might want to hold off on that," said Eitrigg.


    "Why would I do that?" asked William.


    "Prince Aris is coming back," said Eitrigg. "His ship was seen coming into the harbor a few minutes ago."


    "Right, come on, William," said Tanith. "Let''s go to meet him."


    "Are you sure we''ll even be allowed?" asked Felix.


    "Aris is one of my friends," said Tanith. "He, Eitrigg, and I raided Calishan shipping together."


    "No doubt, there will be a great banquet to celebrate his return," said Eitrigg.


    William followed them without a word. As they walked, he found himself remembering the way he had been forced down. The feel of her hands running over him. Nothing he''d been able to do could stop it.


    The humiliation that followed had been no better. And she had expected him to be grateful! As if the armed robber who, after throwing a man in prison for a week, expects thanks for not taking his victim''s life. For the first time in his life, William appreciated where the Iron Kingdom was coming from.


    How could Mother worship such a monster?


    "William, you could try cheering up," said Tanith. You''re about to be made a knight¡ªor at least you probably will be if the negotiations work out."


    "Wonderful," hissed William.


    Tanith had been anything but sympathetic. She seemed to think that because Zeya was attractive, William should be glad of her actions. The fact that he had been unwilling and her distant descendant was not relevant to her.


    Her main disappointment was that she hadn''t been allowed to get her way with the medusa. One would think the possibility of being turned to stone would have driven the lust from her mind.


    It had not been a pleasant journey.


    "Do you want to talk about things?" asked Felix.


    "No," said William.


    "Neither do I," admitted Felix. "This was all very surreal."


    "I am not impressed with Mother''s goddess," said William. Then he remembered Herus. Where the hell did that spiteful bastard get off punishing him? It wasn''t William''s fault Herus couldn''t keep control of his wife. "Or her pantheon for that matter."


    "Gods do what they like," said Felix. "It''s just Harlenor''s good luck that your god likes goodness. Zeya is more interested in doing whatever she feels like."


    "I noticed," said William.


    Eitrigg brought them to the pier. There, they saw Aris'' ship. It was a magnificent vessel of significant size. At its head was the figurehead of a lion. And yet William sensed something. Something that somehow was dear to his heart even though he''d never seen or felt it before. He was in no mood for the sensation.


    "There is Prince Aris'' ship," said Eitrigg.


    "I sense something. A presence," said William.


    "Will you stop worrying, William," said Tanith. "Nothing is going to happen here."


    "Tanith is right. Something could have already happened, which has ruined everything," muttered Felix. He was suddenly furious. Had he sensed it? Had he recognized it?


    "You''re not helping, Felix," said Tanith.


    "I''m not trying to," said Felix.


    "Fine, shut up," said Tanith. "I haven''t seen Aris in years."


    Off the ship came Prince Aris, a very impressive man in terms of physique. He wore a bow over one shoulder, and he walked in quick steps. With him slithered a figure clad in brown robes. The figure radiated an incorruptible purity. Just looking at her, even shrouded in a cloak, made William''s heart jump. He suddenly desired to hold whatever creature was before her.


    Once again, he had encountered a supernatural horror with designs on his soul. He wondered what this one looked like.


    "Aris!" called Tanith as she rushed up to him.


    "Tanith?" Aris blinked as he saw her. "Tanith, what the blazes are you doing here?"


    Tanith stretched. "The usual sort of chance storm. We''ve had quite a few adventures since last we talked."


    "I''ve had some of my own," said Aris. "How is Lord Marn?"


    "Well enough," said Tanith, becoming a bit less happy. "Last I heard he''s trying to fix his reputation." There was anger there in her tone. Tanith had not parted amicably with her old mentor. "Actually, about that, this is William Gabriel. A soon-to-be knight of Harlenor." She motioned to William.


    "William Gabriel?" said Aris. "What is your family doing here if you don''t mind me asking?"


    "Having adventures," said William, trying to be courteous. "Our ship was blown off course by a sudden gust of wind. Then the wind just stopped, and we were trapped here. Still, I''ve managed to put myself to some moderate use. I hope." He looked out at the ocean.


    "Is something wrong?" asked Aris.


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    "I''m sorry, William is a bit distant right now," said Tanith. "He''s had some strange experiences, and he''s still recovering." Then she motioned to Felix. "This is Felix. He''s a Calishan, but he''s on our side."


    Aris said nothing. But the figure moved forward, put her hands together, and bowed. "Greetings to you, noble prince."


    William looked to Felix. And he almost stepped away from him. Felix was standing very still. His eyes were cold and filled with silent fury. There seemed an inner light behind them. William felt afraid, suddenly, and he did not know why.


    "And greetings to you, Princess Safara," said Felix, voice filled with wrath and courtesy. "May I ask what matter of state has brought you so far from Calisha? Where is your noble husband? Has he taken ill and must stay below decks?"


    "Safara?" asked William. "You know her?"


    "The wife of Prince Baelgost," said Felix. "I saw her while she was going to be wedded."


    "I have come off my own volition to fulfill my desires, Felix," said Safara. "My husband is not here."


    "I hope you left a note," said Felix. "He must be anxious to know where you are."


    "Watch your tone with her, Calishan," said Aris, voice angry. "You are in my Kingdom."


    Felix smiled and looked upon Aris with levity. Yet his anger only seemed to increase. There almost seemed a will behind Felix. It was a power that radiated to leave the world bathed in a furious light. Aris stepped back. "Yes, and until recently, you were in the Kingdom of Baltoth putting the final seal upon a truce. How then is it that you have come to this place with another man''s wife?" He nearly shouted the last word.


    Fear. William was afraid of Felix. And so was everyone else. Even Aris seemed stunned. He had to take control of this situation. Now. Suddenly, he saw Felix, not a friend and trusted servant, but as some demon poised to strike. Fear became anger, and his hand lashed out before he could stop himself.


    He watched as his gauntleted hand hit Felix across the cheek. The boy, his friend, reeled and fell downward to hit the ground. "Silence!" he heard himself roaring. "Felix, you are embarrassing me!" He turned to Aris and bowed. "I apologize for his words. Forgive him; he is usually more intelligent than this. However, we''ve borne witness to... horrible things. The strain has taken its toll on us."


    Aris seemed to recover somewhat. The light, if it had ever been there, was gone. He regained himself. "No. It is a matter that requires some explanation. Safara was wedded to her brother without consent. It was an unnatural union, made worse by it being loveless. Her husband neglected her. So she has left him."


    "Aris is correct," said Safara. "I am tired of being the trophy wife of a man who cares nothing for me. I love him. As he loves me."


    Oh, Elranor above Aris had kidnapped Baltoth''s daughter. "Well, that makes all the difference, doesn''t it?" said William, trying to contain his horror. Felix had been right.


    And he had struck him.


    William had never struck Felix until now. He could see his friend. His cheek was bleeding. What had he done?


    "You kidnapped Baelgost''s wife?" asked Tanith, voice sounding slightly worried.


    "I did not kidnap her, Tanith," said Aris. "I rescued her."


    Tanith leaped into the air with a cheer and clapped William on the back. "This is great! The entire Calishan navy is going to descend on this island to try and wipe us out! We''ll have a huge battle, the likes of which haven''t been seen in years!


    "William, you''ll finally get the chance to fight Calishans!"


    "Your joy is disturbing, Tanith," said William.


    "Oh, come on. I''ve wanted to be involved in a real war my whole life!" said Tanith. "Not a raid or one of those decisive battles. I mean the real thing where entire civilizations are laid to waste, and whole cities put to the sword.


    "This is going to be so great. There will be rivers of blood flowing! And when we win, we''ll have killed thousands, tens of thousands of Calishans!"


    A chill wind blew through William''s hair. It was a relief. He hadn''t felt the wind in what seemed like years. Had it been only weeks? "...The wind is back."


    "What?" said Tanith.


    "The wind is back," said William. He needed to get off this island. "Felix, come with me; we''ll find Hrungeld at once. If you''ll excuse me, Prince Aris, I have business to attend to. I''ll leave you and Tanith to discuss the upcoming war."


    He pulled Felix up and dragged him off the pier. As they walked, William halted. Felix had stepped out of line. It was a miracle Aris hadn''t ordered him killed. He''d gotten too free. He couldn''t let the matter pass on this.


    He halted and turned to Felix. Putting a hand on Felix''s cheek, he healed the wound. Then he took him by the shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "Felix, you are my friend, and I love you like a brother. But don''t ever speak out of turn like that again. Do you understand? Aris could have had you executed! Even if I had managed to save you, it would have embarrassed House Gabriel!


    "It is a miracle things turned out as they did."


    "Yes," said Felix, looking down. "I apologize, milord. It won''t happen again."


    "Good," said William. "I''ll let the matter pass. Now let''s find Hrungeld."


    William felt guilty about what he had done. However, he''d had to do something to stop Felix, and he apologized. What else could he have done? Aris was the Prince of this place?


    They found Hrungeld. The area in-between passed in a blur. William wondered if Felix hadn''t led him through it. Everything seemed a blur. At last, they came before the minotaur. He looked up and waved.


    "Ah, master William!" said Hrungeld. "The wind is finally back. We can leave whenever you are ready. Though rumor has it, you may be knighted."


    "I''m afraid not," said William. This island is about to experience some very interesting times. I have no intention of being here when they happen."


    "Interesting times?" asked Hrungeld. "What do you mean?"


    "Prince Aris kidnapped a daughter of Baltoth," said William, " under the flag of truce. I think he meant to marry her."


    Hrungeld dropped the rope he was holding. "...Kreshlak above, does the man have a deathwish?!"


    "I can only assume," said William. "Get ready to leave. I''ll find Mother and Tanith, and we''ll get out of here at once."


    "I''ll do so immediately," said Hrungeld. "I''m glad you know when to back out."


    Tanith appeared. "William, where are you going?"


    "We''ve got to get off this island, Tanith," said William.


    "You can''t leave!" said Tanith. "What about your knighting?"


    "I''ll be glad to postpone it if it means we don''t all die horribly," said William.


    "When did you become such a coward?" snarled Tanith.


    "Coward?" asked William. "It is not bravery to fight a war that can''t be won, Tanith. It is folly. Calisha is the largest Empire in the world. It reaches over thousands of miles. It has demons, dragons, mortals, and all manner of other creatures serving it.


    "And Aris has just run off with a member of the Royal Family!


    "Estal has no allies. It is alone. My father won''t be able to hold back this. The city will fall. This entire region will become part of Calisha."


    "Unless we stop it," said Tanith.


    "Unless we stop it?" asked William. "And what is your brilliant strategy for doing so?"


    "Estal is a very defensible position, and the fortress is very strong," said Tanith. We can hold out for a long time here. A few brave men can hold off great armies if they have good ground, and we have that. Also, if we win enough, the other Harlenorian Kingdoms may get involved. We could turn the tide and make another truce, a better one."


    "Assuming everything goes well, which it won''t," snapped William. He looked at Felix, but Felix said nothing.


    "William is right. We should get out of here," said Hrungeld. "I, for one, will not stay here for that kind of war."


    "And what about the people?" asked Tanith. "Do you think the Calishans are going to show restraint with them? They''ll pillage and slaughter their way through our people and burn everything. You''re a paladin! Start acting like it!"


    William wanted to refuse. He wanted to leave, but he felt that he had to stay. There was a sudden sensation that he was needed here, that if he left now, everything would get worse.


    Worse.


    How could it get worse? A few months ago, he was getting to know his younger siblings. Then Kiyora had dragged him off to fight that stupid spider demoness. He''d been dragged to Viokinar, and so many people had died. All the people he''d met in the Iron Kingdom, good people who were only living as best they could, were now all dead.


    They were dead because of their leaders. It didn''t matter how good they were or that they were innocent. Their leader had been a monster, and they had paid the price.


    Now Estal was about to suffer the same fate. He knew he couldn''t leave. "...Damn you, Tanith. You don''t care at all about the people of Estal! This is just fun and games for you, but I''m not like you! I don''t want to kill or conquer anyone! I want to help people in most cases!


    "But right now, I don''t want to do anything but go home! Play with Soren and Calgora. Sink into a soft bed and not have to worry about dying. However, you''re right. I can''t leave like this. It wouldn''t be right." He sighed. "Captain Hrungeld, I would very much appreciate it if you could give me a quill and paper."


    Hrungeld provided him one, and William quickly wrote out a new letter. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Dear Raynald,


    We have a serious problem. Prince Aris of Calisha has probably just started a war with Calisha. As of my sending this letter, an armada of ships is likely on the way to conquer Estal. Ordinarily, I would leave. However, I cannot, in good conscience, abandon the people here, so I must help them defend themselves.


    Now read this twice: Don''t attack Calisha. Starting a two-front war will only escalate the situation. Instead, you should contact your family. If memory serves, they have some influence on Escor. See if you can get a fleet of Escorian ships to sail to Estal''s aid. Since they are not part of the truce, it will not be a violation for them to wage war on Calisha.


    Above all else, Antion must not start an all-out war with Calisha unless there is no other option. We need time to consolidate our gains in Khasmir and the Iron Kingdom.


    Hoping this finds you in good health,


    Your faithful student,


    William Gabriel,


    P.S:


    Give my regards to Soren and Calgora. Assuming you can.


    He finished the letter and offered it to Hrungeld. His good sense screamed for him to tear up the letter and leave the island to its fate. But he held it in place until Hrungeld took it. "Give this to Raynald. Now, shove off as quickly as you can. If the Calishans set out right after them, you''ll have a very small window of opportunity."


    "I understand, William," said Hrungeld. "I hope you survive. Even if you don''t, I expect things will be worthy of a song or two."


    William and Hrungeld parted ways. He watched the ship as it sailed away. Finally, he turned back to Felix and Tanith. "There. It''s done. Now what?"


    "Now we get ready for war," said Tanith with a smile.


    "Or we could convince King Estal to send Safara right back to Calisha. Complete with a letter of apology and gifts of compensation," said Felix, rubbing his cheek.


    William looked at him. "That is the sanest thing anyone has said all day. Let''s do it."

 Chapter 353 - Fifteen: Visions

    Within a guard room, Houndslasher gave them a chance to rest. Wine and fresh clothes were brought to them, and soon, they were all clad in the gray furs of the Nakmar. Evensen drank the wine carefully. Twilus drank freely.


    "Tell me, Dreaming Goddess," said the King, "what has happened? Why have you taken physical form?"


    "Oh, you know, I''m just planning the downfall of all my enemies," said Kiyora. "Listen, Wiglaf I need your help. These elves and I need to take these to Baltoth''s Retribution. What tunnel will take us closest?"


    "Well, that is a strange question," said Wiglaf. "With a stranger''s answer. Seathorius is always shifting, but our tunnels do not. Not unless we want them to."


    "Then which one leads to the farthest way north?" asked Twilight.


    "I''ll take you there myself when you are ready," said Wiglaf. "Will you accept what hospitality I can offer?"


    "We should set out at once," said Evensen.


    "No, we shouldn''t," said Twilus. "We''ve been walking for days and days Evensen. Let''s accept what hospitality these kind folk can offer. For the night at least."


    "You regarded us as less kind when you marched your armies into our domain," noted the King.


    "Wiglaf, we defeated their entire army without taking a single casualty," said Kiyora. "I think we''ve more than gotten our own back."


    "It is the principle of the thing," said the King. "It is a shame you were not here a week ago. We had a better Feast of the Hearth than in years."


    "Yeah," said Kiyora, "I had work." She paused. "Wait, so you celebrate that too?"


    "We''ve been celebrating it for hundreds of years in your honor, Dreaming Goddess." said the King. "How have you missed this?"


    "I sort of go with the flow," said Kiyora.


    "At any rate, you will both sit at our table as guests tonight if the Dreaming Goddess wills it," said the King.


    "I will it. While they''re here, I''d appreciate it if you taught them a bit about Nakmar culture and such," said Kiyora. "I don''t want there to be another war, and if they know more about us, that could help."


    "As you wish," said the King.


    Kiyora felt something drawing her upwards. She was returning to her own world. Yet as she arose into the void between the worlds, something gripped her. She felt as though a long claw was on her leg, pulling her back down. She struggled against it, trying to force her way to the surface, but was drawn back down again.


    Then all of a sudden, she was standing within some Nakmar living quarters. Evensen and Twilus were getting dressed, while Snooky slept by the door. Twilus looked up in surprise. "Oh, you''re back. We were about to leave without you."


    "How long have I been gone?" asked Kiyora.


    "Two days," said Evensen.


    "Great. The timelines are all screwed up or something," said Kiyora. Why hadn''t she been able to wake up? "How did the visit with the Nakmar go?"


    "It was great. I learned all kinds of things," said Twilus. "I could write a book about it later. Did you know that Nakmar swords, the best swords I mean, bond with their wielders?"


    "I''m the Dreaming Goddess. Of course, I know," said Kiyora. They did that? Why hadn''t anyone told her?


    "It was a total waste of our valuable time," said Evensen. "Why must you delay us?"


    "Look, I''ve got a lot of things to attend to, and a lot of them are important," said Kiyora, feeling bad for delaying them. "Now let''s go quickly."


    They packed their things and made their way out the door. They found Moira waiting for them. The dwarven woman bowed to them and looked to Kiyora. "Dreaming Goddess."


    "Moira?" said Kiyora.


    "Yes. I have been tasked with showing you how to reach the northern reaches of our tunnels," said Moira. "They are of recent make. King Houndslasher ordered us to dig nearer to Baltoth''s Retribution. That was some months ago, and they aren''t yet complete."


    "Thanks," said Kiyora. "Lead us there."


    Moira led them on through the tunnels. As they walked, they began rougher and less clean. Fewer dormitories opened into the side of the tunnels. Before long, the lights were dimmed and fewer. As they walked, Moira remained mostly silent.


    Finally, she glanced up. "Tell me, Dreaming Goddess. How have the weapons I forged for William and Felix been used?"


    "Those?" said Kiyora. That was right; she had made swords for William and Felix. "Um, well, William broke his injuring Laughing Wraith. But he got it repaired, and now it is pure black with red runes. He''s used it a lot. Felix''s has gone crimson with the blood of Melchious."


    "I am glad to hear that they have drunk such vile blood," said Moira.


    "Yeah, um, actually about that," said Kiyora. "William has gotten a lot taller since he got that sword, and the sword still fits him perfectly. Is there a reason for that?"


    "It was one of the spells," said Moira. "My sword has bonded to him and so changes to put itself as his service. The same can be said for Felix." S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, that''s handy," said Kiyora.


    "Indeed," said Moira.


    "So how has the forging business been going?" asked Kiyora, trying to make conversation.


    "Better than ever," said Moira. "Tales of William and Felix''s great deeds have seen many purchase our blades. I have not yet made one as fine as that which I gave Felix. We are kept very busy, and we have enough money for luxuries we never had before.


    "And it is safe to walk in the woods without fear of ambush. Duke Vanion''s truce is a great boon to us. Of course, things are less bright now that you''ve had to draw back your hand. However, there aren''t nearly as many dangers in Seathorius as there once were."


    "So there haven''t been any battles with the satyrs?" asked Kiyora.


    "There have been a few skirmishes with individual clans," said Moira. "But, Arraxia punished the attackers severely."


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    "What has she been up to besides that?" asked Kiyora.


    "The satyrs have been purchasing much stone from us and using it to build walls and towers," said Moira. "I have also seen them drilling in the ways of human warriors."


    "You mean with phalanxes?" guessed Kiyora.


    "Yes," said Moira.


    "What has been done about this?" asked Kiyora.


    "King Houndslasher dispatched messengers to Duke Vanion. He requested aid in training our warriors into professional soldiers," said Moira. "We received it some time ago. All the young men of our villages are being taught to use spear and shield as well as axe and bow."


    "Good. Good," said Kiyora. "Glad to see you guys are taking your lives into your own hands. I kind of miss the days when I just went around helping people, no questions asked, though."


    "With respect, I do not," said Moira. "Your deeds were necessary with all the chaos, but I wouldn''t go back."


    "Yeah, I know," said Kiyora. "I''m just self-centered like that, I guess. Evensen, what do you think of the situation?"


    "Hmm?" asked Evensen.


    "If the Nakmar and the satyrs went to war with each other who would win, do you think?" asked Kiyora.


    "The Nakmar at present. Their tunnels are easily defendable and go throughout the land," said Evensen. "But the cost would be high and will get higher with every stone put on top of another around the satyr villages.


    "Had you only assisted us, we might have wiped out the foul brutes once and for all."


    "I know. That''s why I didn''t assist you," said Kiyora.


    "I think it''s great that satyrs and dwarves are becoming more civilized," said Twilus.


    "Do not presume that just because we are different than we are uncivilized," said Moira. "We are an ancient culture and can remember far back. And with greater clarity than the high elves."


    "The elves are the firstborn of the mortal races," said Twilus. "We remember back to the first days of this world. I''m not sure it is possible-"


    "Do you? Or do you remember only what you wish to remember?" asked Moira. "We Nakmar know the dream well. And we see it with clairvoyance that others cannot match."


    "I didn''t mean to offend you," said Twilus.


    "Well if you didn''t want to offend anyone, you shouldn''t have called them ''less civilized,''" said Kiyora.


    "What I meant was that all this trade is a good thing," said Twilus." Isn''t it?"


    "For them. We have a population that is still growing," said Evensen. "If we do not find some means to colonize other areas, many of us will starve."


    "You could try having fewer children," said Kiyora.


    "I''ve been saying that for years," said Twilus.


    "The growth of our population is an essential part of Queen Dawn''s strategy," said Evensen. "If we ever cease to grow, we will begin to shrink. And Anoa the Butcher''s victory will be complete. It is our task to repopulate the world and reestablish the elves of old."


    "Well, don''t expect us to just stand by and let you do so," said Moira. "Here we are."


    They were staring at a wall. It was solid.


    "Where?" asked Twilus. "That''s a dead end."


    "Of course, it appears that way," said Moira. "But look here." Then she tapped several times upon the wall. It slid open and revealed a wood illuminated by a sky of twilight. "This passage comes out a day''s journey south of Baltoth''s Retribution. If you travel quickly and carefully, you should be able to reach it without being spotted. Getting into the castle itself is your own business.


    "Good luck, Queen Yagos."


    "Thanks," said Kiyora.


    They parted ways with Moira. Together, the three elves made their way into the dark forests of Seathorius. As they walked, Kiyora listened to the trees. And somehow, she could not hear their voices as keenly as she once did.


    She focused on them, immersing her mind into their speech. As she walked, she let her mind drift away into the woods and the trees. From them, she gathered that they were not happy with Arraxia''s presence. The groans could be heard, even by Evensen and Twilus.


    "Why are these trees angry?" asked Twilus.


    "You can sense them?" asked Kiyora.


    "I''ve been taught to attune myself with them," said Twilus. "Though it isn''t natural like the legendary Dreamer Elves. I can only get a general sense. They are angry about something."


    "It''s Arraxia," said Kiyora. "She''s been forcing the trees to let her bring materials to Baltoth''s Retribution for almost a year. Anytime a tree refused, Arraxia threatens them with fire. And now Arraxia is using Baltoth''s Retribution to move her people around quickly. To boost commerce, I think.


    "Trees don''t like moving. When you can get a rise out of them, they''re terrifying. But getting a rise out of them is hard."


    "Do you think they''ll help us?" asked Twilus.


    "No, probably not," admitted Kiyora. "I think they are annoyed with me as well. Anyway-"


    Then, suddenly, Kiyora was standing at the top of a dark tower. It reached into a green vortex in the sky and looked down upon the great tree, Actovosh. Far below the city was utterly dark. A violet mist was rising throughout it, and the flashes of light could be seen below.


    There was Arraxia. She was standing at the edge of the tower, eyes glowing. One clawed hand was on her hip as she leaned upon her axe. A smile was on her face, and her dark hair was blowing in the wind. At her feet were dozens of masked figures, lying comatose on the ground.


    Arraxia turned around, and the unconscious bodies faded into blue light. There was Lieutenant Escalus. The red-haired officer had her sword in hand, her stance perfect. Arraxia spun the Axe of Fortenex around and took a stance, tail flicking. "So the elves have brought out their elites, have they? No matter. Behold the beginnings of my ascension!"


    "Your ascension will never happen," said Escalus.


    Then she surged forward.


    There were a series of lightning-fast blows. A blur of black and red slammed into each other, then darted away and collided again. The two passed each other, and Escalus turned around. There was a cut on her cheek, but instead of blood, there was blue light. Arraxia fell to one knee, then rose again.


    She glanced back lazily, her Axe glowing. "...Hmm, who are you exactly?"


    "Lieutenant Escalus," said Escalus. "Head of the DSD in Actovosh."


    "Is that acronym meant to mean anything to me?" asked Arraxia. "Although I will admit this is more entertaining than I expected. Still, why don''t we-"


    There was an audible click. Arraxia looked back at something. Then, there was a noise like thunder, and she reeled back. Black liquid slid down several small cuts on her face.


    What the heck?


    Laurus stood there, holding a pump-action shotgun. He pumped it again and fired it at her. This time, Arraxia spun the axe. The projectiles were washed away in a wave of red energy, and her face began to heal.


    Yet even as she prepared to attack, Escalus was on her. Arraxia blocked the strike, only to be shot again, this time in the leg. She fell to one knee. The Axe of Fortenex glowed a brilliant red, and Arraxia roared. Escalus was thrown backward by what seemed a wave of blood. Laurus dropped his gun and clutched his eyes in agony. As he screamed, Escalus fell to one knee, her hands shaking.


    "Oh yes, well done, irritating me," repeated Arraxia, leg healing. "Unfortunately for you, my very being is now interwoven with the fabric of this world. You can no more slay me than you could the God who gives you form and existence.


    "So you are really just wasting your time. Time which you have precious little of left," Then she motioned to the sky. There, high above, was a portal that showed Arraxia''s throne. And placed within it was the Void Stone, sending unholy energies down through the tower. "The power of the Void Stone and the Axe of Fortenex cannot be halted. Even as we speak, my control over this domain grows, and all who reside within it shall soon be under my sway."


    "Sway this," said Laurus before drawing out a submachine gun.


    As a barrage of bullets was unleashed against Arraxia, who raised a hand and summoned a shield of red energy. Kiyora wondered where Laurus was getting all weaponry. Not that the shield was really necessary, most of Laurus'' shots were all over the place. Submachine guns looked very impressive, but it didn''t seem like Laurus was all that good with them.


    The guns clicked empty, and the shield was dropped. Arraxia surged forward, claw outstretched.


    An arrow landed before her as she went in for the kill. Vines grew upwards and wrapped around her. Reya landed with Laurus, who pulled out two pistols and unlocked the safeties.


    "Where did you get those guns, Laurus?" asked Reya.


    "I robbed a firearm store, okay," said Laurus. "Also a clothes store."


    Escalus landed in front of them as the vines were torn apart. Arraxia arose into the air, writhed in a violet flame.


    "Well," said Arraxia, "I was hoping to break her by showing her all your broken bodies. I suppose I''ll have to start taking this seriously."


    She charged, and everything went black.


    Kiyora focused. She was back in Seathorius. Was Arraxia deliberately showing her all this just to gloat? That seemed in character for her. Then again, as far as Arraxia knew, Kiyora had no plans to stop her.


    Shows what she knew.


    "Kiyora, what''s wrong?" asked Twilight.


    "We''ve got to keep moving," said Kiyora. "Things are getting worse. Come quick."


    She hoped Laurus and Escalus were all right. But how had they gotten on that tower, and where had it come from? Kiyora was going to have to ask them when she got back. Assuming she could make sure there was something to get back to.

 Chapter 354 - Sixteen: Fruits of Labor

    Fortenex was in a good mood. A very, very good mood.


    He lounged upon his throne, looking forward to the coming bloodletting. One of his wives was chained to his throne in her mortal form. Her eyes gazed up at him with mindless devotion. Breaking this one had been a great deal of fun, though he had long since forgotten her name. For all the affection he held her in, she was a pale shadow of Amysta.


    When Karasush entered the room, his thoughts were distracted from that depressing note. His cloak was billowing in a cold south wind. Fortenex knew because he''d summoned up that wind himself to make the man look good. He succeeded. It added a formidable aspect to the mask, particularly. The sorcerer came before the throne and fell to one knee in fealty. "Lord Fortenex." S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes, Karasush, what is it?" asked Fortenex.


    "There are strange lights in the sky," said Karasush. A figure with a trail of lightning is approaching the hall." His head was lowered, but there was a hint of an accusation. Fortenex, of course, had known of her coming already. That was the trouble with being a god: You had to wait for everyone else to catch up.


    "Oh wonderful," said Fortenex. "Zeya always did like to make an entrance. Just let her in before-" The door was blown off its hinges, and Zeya appeared in the strike of a dozen lightning bolts. The floor was scorched. "-she does that."


    "Fortenex!" roared Zeya.


    Fortenex arose from his throne and threw his cloak aside, taking a stance as he did. Karasus took a stance as well, as though to defend the throne. Yet he needn''t have bothered. "Ah, Queen Zeya! You look ravishing, as always. How did your affair go?"


    "You wretch!" said Zeya. "You made me try and take advantage of my own descendant!"


    "I did not make you do anything," said Fortenex in irritation. "And when did I suggest you take advantage of William Gabriel?"


    "You told me that Tanith was Azgora''s daughter!" said Zeya.


    "No, I didn''t," said Fortenex in irritation. "I said that you should look to her compatriot, William. I meant that he was Azgora''s child, not Tanith. You must have misinterpreted my words." What part of ''trickster god'' did these people not understand?


    That was one of the errors a lot of people made. They assumed that Fortenex was all about kicking in doors and killing people. That was fun, but it had to be done in moderation. And the best people kicked in doors and killed people after tricking them. Tanith knew a thing or two about that.


    "And how did Herus know of what I was doing?" asked Zeya, eyes narrowed.


    "Well, you were pursuing your conquest around the time of one of his festivals," said Fortenex. "I suppose he might have been watching for something to that effect."


    Zeya looked at him. "You''re a damned liar."


    Fortenex sighed and reflected that technically speaking was a damned liar. He was a demon, and he was a liar; that was part of their dynamic. Now, how do you evade responsibility for both? "Zeya, if you don''t feel like taking responsibility for your actions, that''s your choice. But don''t come into my halls and demand compensation because you misread my words. This entire situation would have been avoided if you checked up on your descendants occasionally.


    "Had you paid attention to Azgora even once in the past sixteen years, you would have learned that she had a son. Not a daughter. However, you didn''t. And what exactly was so important that you were doing in the meantime?


    "Hurling lightning bolts at people who displeased you?"


    "As if you''re any better," said Zeya, having the nerve to look with distaste at his mindless wives. Summoning a bolt of lightning, it flared to life, while Fortenex looked at her flatly and dared her to do it. Karasus began to arrange for the evacuation of the servants.


    Which was nice. Fortenex might need them later.


    "I''ll have you know that I have never taken advantage of anyone," said Fortenex. "All of my consorts are consensual. My wives'' entire purpose for existence is to serve me. I trained their minds for that purpose. I enjoy having power over others, and when that power is given to me freely, I am all the more glad of it. It is the one thing my brother and I have in common."


    "On the contrary, Fortenex," said a voice. "You share many of the same failings besides that."


    A cold north wind blew in, and many snowflakes flowed in. These snowflakes took the form of a man. He had pale skin and hair as white as snow. Then came many leaves which formed into the shape of a beautiful, yet terrible, woman. It was like her skin was of bark and her hair was that of leaves. Where she walked, plague spread and grass raised upwards. The skies churned above her.


    "Ah, Elranor. And Laevian as well," said Fortenex. "It is a regular reunion of old friends. I must thank you for using the door. We just had that one reinforced. How may I help you?"


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    "You can account for your actions for a start," said Elranor. Ever the humorlous and serious. You could tell exactly what Elranor was going to do and say without the bother of asking him. Perhaps that''s why Harlenor liked him so much, you always knew what you were getting. "You''ve cursed one of my paladins."


    "He cut the hand from one of my children," said Fortenex with a shrug. "I have a right to vengeance."


    "Your son attacked first and was dead set on devouring an entire village," noted Elranor.


    "When has revenge required a rational motive, pray tell?" asked Fortenex. "It is enough to know that your subject hurt mine. That justifies any level of force I can get away with. In fact, anything justifies any level of force I can get away with."


    "Well, I''m afraid you won''t get away with it," said Elranor. "Laevian has sewn the seeds of disease in Viokinar, and I am the god of healing. If you don''t provide me with compensation, she will unleash it, and I will withdraw my magic from Viokinar."


    Fortenex was almost surprised. Almost. He had expected some kind of threat, but threatening plague hadn''t been it. Laevian must have been wanting an opportunity.


    "I''m impressed, Elranor," said Fortenex, meaningfully. "You would kill your colonists?"


    "Hardly," said Laevian, "I''ve been releasing the disease in small doses for centuries. Harlenor has developed an immunity to it. In Viokinar, however, they are isolated and have no such protection. Doing this will speed our conquest and render most of your subjects quite dead."


    "I wonder how many coastal towns I could render obliterated by hurricanes?" mused Fortenex. "Perhaps most to all of them."


    "You''re not so foolish as to call my bluff, Fortenex," said Laevian. "Your brother is growing in power. He''ll be the only victor if we start a war of the gods."


    Fortenex sighed. "...You speak truly. What do you want?"


    "I want you to bring the winds to bear against a fleet of ships of my choosing in a fashion of my choosing," said Elranor. "No questions asked. When I order it done, you will do it."


    "Very well, it will be done," said Fortenex. "So long as the target isn''t my subjects. Take that, or feel free to start a war."


    "And you, Zeya," said Elranor.


    "I have done nothing," said Zeya.


    "On the contrary, you have," said Elranor. "You have directly violated my request not to bring your petty lusts into my domain. You also did it to one of my paladins no less. I desire compensation for this. As a token of apology."


    Zeya shifted. "...So be it. What is it you want, Elranor?"


    "I want you to summon a lightning storm in an area near Gel Carn," said Elranor. A great army of satyrs is attacking the Heir of Kings. Your power will be channeled through Lightning Trail to destroy them."


    "Whatever you wish," said Zeya. "I''m going home." There was a crack of lightning, and she was gone.


    "Goodbye, Fortenex," said Elranor.


    Then he and Laevian faded away in a gust of snow. What a collection of absolute killjoys.


    Fortenex remained silent for a long moment. Then he leaped with a cheer, pumping his fists. "Yes!"


    "I take it that all that was as planned?" said Karasush.


    "Yes, it was," said Fortenex. "I''m Not Allowed to Use my winds to alter the courses of battles very often. When I do it on my own, it allows the other gods to do the same with their domains. Elranor doesn''t know it, but he''s played into my hands."


    "Ah, that is why you helped Safara''s ship escape Calisha then," noted Karasush.


    "Yes. Of course, Baltoth can''t prove anything," said Fortenex. "It just so happened to be perfect winds for their escape."


    "It will mean war between Estal and Calisha," mused Karasush.


    "Yes, I know. There will be a great bloodletting, and I will be its architect," said Fortenex. "Elranor will use the winds to destroy the Calishan fleet. However, the Calishans do not give up easily and will not stand for their god''s humiliation. They will build another fleet, larger still, and fall on Estal. By that time, Harlenor will have mobilized.


    "That cursed truce made by Vanion will be torn to shreds. Blood and death shall rule the day. And when it is over, I will be able to raid and plunder freely. My armies shall march across the devastated kingdoms of Harlenor and Calisha!"


    "It is a fine plan, milord. However, may I caution you not to be too optimistic," said Karasush. "Vanion and Elranor have a way of derailing such plans."


    "I am well aware. Indeed, it is your cautious nature for which I choose you as my high priest, Karasush," said Fortenex. "A wise man never has someone just like him as an advisor."


    "My thanks," said Karasush. "If I may ask, what about the girl? Tanith."


    "Yes, one of my unwitting followers," said Fortenex. "I see great potential in her, despite the nature of her soul. She is a girl after my own heart. I hope to reveal myself to her eventually."


    "Then you think she is the one?" asked Karasush.


    "Possibly," said Fortenex. "William is a bad influence on her, however. He and so many other noble knights. If she is to unite my worshippers and finally strip away the mask of Kreshlak, it will take time to mold her. Perhaps lifetimes before she is ready."


    "Well, we have time if nothing else," said Karasush.


    That annoyed Fortenex. He sat down on his throne and fondled his wife. "Yes. And too much of it. Duke Vanion''s absurd truce has interfered with my designs long enough. What should have been a world-ending conflict almost fizzled out? I''m going to have to find a special end for him."


    "Might I suggest we wait, milord," said Karasush. "Peace is to our benefit, for now."


    "Yes, I know," said Fortenex. "At the very least, we''ll have a perfect view of the fate of Estal."


    "And what of your daughter?" asked Karasush.


    Fortenex blinked. What was he on about? "Which one?"


    "I don''t know her true name; she keeps it a secret," said Karasush. "She is called Arraxia, however."


    "Ah yes, her. I''ve granted her limited dominion over the Axe of Fortenex," said Fortenex. "She''s successful enough to warrant a chance to impress me. Even so, I don''t see much hope for her. Her infatuation with House Gabriel will be her undoing. And she doesn''t leave nearly enough bodies in her wake for my taste."


    "There are virtues to doing things without mass carnage, milord," said Karasush.


    Fortenex laughed. "Why do you think I keep you around?"

 Chapter 355 - Seventeen: Kiyoras Gambit

    The three of them sped as quickly through the trees as they dared. Kiyora was able to convince the trees to help them move quickly, mostly by promising to cause trouble for Arraxia. However, their aid was sluggish, so the journey was not as fast as she would have liked. Days passed, and Kiyora prayed that time would pass differently in her world than this one.


    Certainly, all the signs were there.


    Then, very suddenly, Snooky, who was walking at the front, halted. He sniffed at the air, then padded to Twilus with a whimper. Twilus looked worried. "Snooky says satyrs are approaching. I see them through the trees."


    "Follow me," said Evensen.


    Evensen found a place for them to hide very quickly. It was a hollow beneath the roots of a great tree, shielded by bushes. Kiyora hated the sensation of dirt on her legs as she lay down within it, but she was soon distracted.


    Into view came Sadira. And with her were a large force of satyrs.


    "Anything?" asked Sadira.


    "No. We''ve seen no intruders worth eating," muttered a larger satyr. "The sooner this wretched peace is over, the better."


    "It isn''t all bad, Shrev," said Sadira. "At least we''ve got things we could never have before."


    "Harlenor can keep its luxuries," snapped Shrev. Give me red dwarf meat, whole and raw. That is something worth killing for. But instead, we''ve been doing merchant business, putting out our backs, and making fortresses.


    "Makes me pine for the days of Melchious."


    "That is a very fine remark," mused Sadira, suddenly threatening in her voice. I think I should discuss it with Doltier."


    "I was just talking," said Shrev. "Do words hurt you?"


    "See to it that it doesn''t come to anything besides words," said Sadira. "I''ll not tolerate blasphemy or insubordination. Doltier commands it so."


    "Doltier doesn''t know what is good for anyone but his precious Arraxia," snapped Shrev. "If that is her right name."


    "I heard it was a pet name given to her by a human," said another in amusement. "I wonder if he gave her a collar with the name on it." sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Collar?!" roared Sadira. "You''ll wish you had a collar of iron when my blade cleaves through your neck!"


    Scimitars were drawn. The satyrs glared at each other.


    "You''re welcome to try, you black-furred bitch," snarled Shrev. "Melchious never would have let this happen."


    "But he would this!" snarled Sadira.


    Sadira''s scimitar lashed out. Shrev dodged the blow, but Sadira brought around her staff to hit him in the face. He reeled, and she drove her sword through his groin. It wasn''t the end but the beginning because the other satyr went at her with a spear.


    Other satyrs drew their swords. The entire group was hacking and slashing each other to pieces in a few moments. Hands were cut off, eyes gouged out, and necks bitten. Evensen tapped Kiyora, then Twilight. "They''re fighting among themselves. This is our chance."


    He led them out of the roots, and they slipped away as the shrieks and screams gradually died away. Kiyora sighed. "From the sounds of things, the satyrs are looking for a fight. I''d better find a common enemy to unite against soon, or we''ll be in a mess."


    "Do you mean us?" asked Twilight in shock.


    "No. If I did, I wouldn''t have said anything," said Kiyora. "I mean, find someone who deserves it and unleash the satyrs on them."


    "What about the satyrs of Khasmir?" said Evensen. "They worship Fortenex while these worship Arraxia. Perhaps we could get the two to fight each other."


    "William did tell me Arraxia has a grudge against the High Priest of Fortenex," said Kiyora.


    "Maybe I could arrange a joint venture."


    "Wait, so we''re on a mission to steal the source of Arraxia''s power. And you are already planning to make an alliance with her?" asked Twilight.


    "I''m thinking about it," said Kiyora. "You''ve got to think about the long game when you''re a god."


    "Well, you''ve certainly never done that," muttered Evensen.


    They pressed on through the darkness of the wood. Snooky proved very valuable here, always detecting enemies long before they arrived. Each time, they''d move and dodge a large group of satyrs, though none came as close as Sadira.


    At last, they came out into the sight of Baltoth''s Retribution. It was not as it had been. All semblance of glamour was gone. It stood tall and strong, crooked towers scraping the sky like claws. The ground around it was different as well. Before, it had appeared beautiful while being wicked beneath the surface. Now, it was drab and horrible upfront.


    Ironically, it was much more pleasant to look at. You weren''t afraid something was going to jump out at you, though something still might. Evensen and Twilight seemed intimidated, however. Snooky, disinterested, scratched his ears and panted.


    "Baltoth''s Retribution," said Twilight.


    Then Kiyora flinched. She was suddenly standing on that same dark tower. Escalus was lying still on the ground beneath the feet of Arraxia. So were Laurus and Reya. The demoness stood triumphant, and the darkness was consuming Actovosh.


    The screams of the damned could be heard far below.


    And then there was a burst of brilliant orange light. Emperor Ictargo landed upon the tower, blade in hand. Arraxia sighed and turned to face him. "Hmm, Kiyora''s memories tell me you are a spineless weakling named Emperor Ictargo. To what do I owe the pleasure?"


    "You know well," said Ictargo. "I will not allow you to seize this place."


    "Oh, but I have already seized it," said Arraxia. "I am bound to the Dreaming Goddess, and through that, I am bound to this place. My essence pervades the fabric of reality you watch over, and soon it will be mine to command. And dear Kiyora is trapped in what she thinks is a dream world, weakening herself."


    Ictargo raised his blade. "You will never succeed while I draw breath."


    Arraxia yawned and looked at her claws. "You don''t draw breath. You and every other elf exist in a perpetual dream, with the appearance of life but no real existence. That is why no one ever dies. Their souls reform when killed, and no one is the wiser.


    "But they are all subject to the Dreaming Goddess, and she is not strong enough to resist me anymore. Indeed, she is now reliant on your dispensations of power. Once you are defeated, Ictargo, I need only bend her to my will.


    "And all the Dreamer Empire will be at my feet." Then she surged forward, and her axe met Ictargo''s blade. They fought back and forth, but Arraxia fought like a berserker, and Ictargo was forced back. Then Arraxia knocked his feet out from under him and kicked him backward.


    Raising her axe skyward, Arraxia channeled the power into the Void Stone. Both artifacts glowed with an unholy light¡ªthe moans of the damned intensified. "Now fall! Fall with the rest of these insufferable sheep!"


    Kiyora felt herself being drawn in, but she resisted. She refused to be consumed by this thing. It was oddly simple. She could feel that others were making the same choice, their wills acting like one. Arraxia looked at both artifacts. Both were amplifying her will. And yet Arraxia''s will was still not enough.


    "You''re wrong," said Ictargo. "The spirits of the Dreamer Elves do live. Every one of them has their hopes, dreams, and goals. All of them seek to make their own way in an ever-changing world. Our reality may differ, but yours is no less valid."


    "Your reality is the plaything of a spoiled child," said Arraxia in a hiss.


    "How can you know that what you call history was not made moments ago with the illusion of age?" asked Ictargo. "How can any man trust that the world will not shift beyond recognition in moments? They cannot.


    "But they persist and seek to change the world for the better in a thousand ways every day.


    "You think that controlling them will be simple. However, I know my subjects. And I know they will never submit to one like you!"


    That was actually pretty cool. For a moment, Kiyora thought Arraxia would fly into a rage, curse, and scream. Yet she didn''t. Instead, she merely spun the axe and sighed. "...Well, there goes that plan. Oh well. I''ll just absorb the souls of the Dreamer Elves into the Void Stone. Thereby increasing my own power and destroying your entire species,"


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    Ictargo blinked. "...You don''t think you''re capable of that, do you."


    "I am well capable of improvisation," said Arraxia before looking straight at her with a smile. "Wouldn''t you agree, Kiyora?"


    Then Kiyora was standing again before Baltoth''s Retribution. There was a sudden roaring, and dark magic poured from Baltoth''s Retribution. Kiyora felt as though something was trying to draw on her strength as well. Furiously she denied it.


    "What is happening?" asked Twilight.


    Kiyora knew what had to be done. "Twilight, use the harp of Alchara now!"


    "What?" said Twilus.


    "Use it!" said Kiyora. "Disrupt the spell!"


    Twilus quickly slung the harp off and began to play it. As she did, Kiyora saw her focusing power on it. The harp began to glow, and a ray of light shot out from it to hit the castle. The spell being cast wavered and receded for a time. Yet soon, it came back stronger. Kiyora could feel a powerful will drawing on it, trying to force the issue.


    "I... I can''t hold this for long," said Twilus. "The Void Stone is too powerful."


    "Just hold on," said Kiyora. "Keep it occupied. Evensen, let''s go. We''ve got to get the Void Stone before Arraxia can finish her spell. If she succeeds, she''ll become more powerful than ever. Snooky, stay here and guard Twilus."


    Snooky yawned and began to scratch himself behind the ears. Then he lay down to sleep. Why had they brought him along again? Oh, right, to dodge satyrs.


    "How do we get in," asked Evensen.


    "Through the front gate," said Kiyora.


    Kiyora knew she was not supposed to use her powers. But the gates were shut, and this was an emergency. Raising a hand, she drew on the part of her within Baltoth''s Retribution. Taking hold of the shifting currents of the land, she moved herself and Evensen.


    They appeared in the courtyard, surrounded by satyrs. All of those satyrs had very pointy swords pointed at them. Evensen drew his weapon. However, that was probably a moot point.


    "Hold where you are, Dreaming Goddess," said a satyr. "Lady Arraxia commanded that we slay any who seek entry into Baltoth''s Retribution. You will not pass this way save over our corpses."


    "Yeah no," said Kiyora.


    And she shifted them again. Doing it hurt. She felt a biting pain in her head and fell to one knee as they arrived. But she managed to stand.


    They were in a deserted hallway, and the air was humming. Whispers could be heard wherever they walked. Kiyora did her best to focus. "Quickly, Evensen! We''ve got to go!"


    "Which way?" said Evensen.


    "Follow me," said Kiyora. "I know the way."


    She quickly led him through the halls. As she ran, a group of satyrs came around the bend to bar their path. Evensen rushed forward, sword in hand. But Kiyora shifted the past. The pain had been bad before, but now it has become massively worse.


    "What are you doing?" asked Evensen.


    "I''m shifting the land within Baltoth''s Retribution. It should misdirect them," said Kiyora, feeling a headache coming on. "I can''t keep this up long, so come on."


    "Where is the Void Stone?" asked Evensen.


    "It is located on the throne of Arraxia. I saw it before," said Kiyora. "Come on. And don''t kill any guards."


    "Why not?" asked Evensen.


    "When I fought your army, I didn''t kill any elves, nor did the satyrs," said Kiyora. "You should return the favor."


    They came to a set of double doors Kiyora pushed the doors open, and they rushed into the throne room. There was the Void Stone on Arraxia''s throne. It was channeling unholy energies into a portal high above them.


    And there before the throne stood Doltier. His scimitars were in his hands, and he smiled.


    "Doltier," said Evensen.


    "Tonight, I feast on elf meat," said Doltier.


    Then he surged forward. Evensen ran to meet him, and the two met in a flurry of blows. Evensen attacked with a series of two-handed strokes. Then Doltier slipped around a pillar and came at him from the side. Evensen was forced on the defensive beneath a flurry of strikes.


    Kiyora took the chance to slip past one of the bonfires, making her way toward the throne. Glancing back, she saw Doltier bash Evensen across the face with a pommel. The elf soldier fell, and Doltier slashed at him in the hopes of a killing blow. Evensen raised his blade, but it was too late.


    There was a scream.


    Kiyora felt cold, but she forced herself to focus. She turned and ran toward the Void Stone and gripped it. The pain was instant and horrible. She withdrew her hands reflexively. No, she had to get it. Reaching forward, she grasped the stone and tried to haul it off the throne. Every inch was a battle, but she drew it off. It came out so suddenly that she fell down the throne''s steps and hit the ground.


    Before she could get up, a hoof was forced down on her chest. Dottier stood over her. "You have failed, Dreaming Goddess. The Void Stone will devour your world, and Lady Arraxia will become a god like no other."


    He raised his elven scimitar. Then he screamed as his hand was cut off. Doltier fell backward, and Evensen came forward. The elf''s left eye had been slashed out, and he was missing the two lower fingers on his right hand.


    With a look of fury, he drove his blade into Doltier''s gut, drew out the sword, and stabbed him again. Doltier fell limp. Evensen sheathed his blade and picked up the sword Doltier had stolen.


    "Let''s go," said Evensen. "Quickly."


    Kiyora clutched the Void Stone, and together they ran through the halls. It wasn''t long before satyrs came after them. As they ran, Kiyora felt the Void Stone glowing. It was still sending out power and still trying to consume her world.


    The sensation of it hurt; more than anything, she wanted to throw it away. But she knew she couldn''t do it. Looking at Evensen, she saw he was bleeding badly. Every so often, he nearly stumbled, and the satyrs were drawing closer.


    In desperation, Kiyora led them through a door. But it was a dead-end, something like a storage room. Evensen locked the door. Then he ripped cloth from his outfit and wrapped it around his fingers in a makeshift bandage. Moments later, there was a slamming sound on the door.


    "Kiyora breaks the connection!" said Evensen, finishing his bandage. "I''ll hold them off as long as I can!"


    Kiyora focused on the Void Stone. She tried to sever the connection, but she was rebuffed. Her will was too weak. And she sensed Arraxia gloating.


    "You''ve failed, Kiyora. The Void Stone has been connected to your world," said Arraxia. "The Dreamer Empire is mine. Soon, you and all your race will serve me. Though finding a use for such a race of insufferable dullards might be difficult."


    What could Kiyora do? She couldn''t stop the connection. The door was breaking. Already, Kiyora could feel the Void Stones beginning to sap the souls of Dreamer Elves, and she couldn''t stop it.


    Wait. Arraxia could send spirits through the Void Stone to other worlds. She''d done it before. If Kiyora couldn''t stop the flow, maybe she could reverse it. She focused and tried to force them out, but they recoiled in terror.


    They were the people of the Iron Kingdom. Long ago, Melchious, as the Iron King, had convinced them to sacrifice their souls. To send them into the Iron Stone rather than submit to the gods. These poor people had been trapped here for so long that they knew nothing but obedience to darkness.


    Kiyora couldn''t force them to do anything. She didn''t have the power.


    But maybe she could convince them to leave? "Listen to me, all of you; I can free you. But if you will escape, you must push toward the other world now.


    "I can open the way," She sent forth the words.


    And they listened. But Arraxia laughed. "Open the way? With what power, Kiyora? You''ve squandered your spells, helping others."


    "You''re right," said Kiyora. I don''t have the power, but you do."


    "What?" said Arraxia.


    Kiyora ignored her reserves of power. She followed her connection to Arraxia to its source and dragged on the power within. They were connected, and Kiyora could sense her pride, narcissism, unhealthy obsessions, and affections. It was sickening and terrifying at once.


    And she drew on it. Arraxia was stronger, but she was focused on many things. Her will was spread out. At the same time, Kiyora had only one thing on her mind.


    "Get... get out of my head. I... won''t allow this..." said Arraxia.


    "Open!" screamed Kiyora, focusing her energy.


    "NO!!" screamed Arraxia.


    The doors burst open at that moment, and the satyrs surged in. Yet even as they did, the Void Stone cracked. It exploded as uncountable souls poured out, entering into the world. The satyrs were thrown back. All that remained was a shard of perfect red crystal.


    Thinking quickly, Kiyora used Arraxia''s power to transport them. In an instant, she and Evensen were transported outside the castle. Evensen fell to one knee.


    "Is it done?" he asked.


    "Yes," said Kiyora. "The Void Stone is destroyed."


    "Then we have done what we set out to do," said Evensen. "Now we die well."


    "Like hell," said Kiyora, helping him up. "Come on. Let''s go. We''ll get out of sight and see to those injuries."


    The two of them moved as quickly as they could toward the woods. There, they found Twilus. She was still playing the harp, tears in her eyes as she did. Two satyrs lay dead by her, their throats ripped out. Snooky lay on the ground. A spear was in the wolf''s heart, and he was lying still.


    As they reached, her Evensen collapsed. Twilus looked up and dropped the harp. "Evensen! Evensen, stay with me! Give me a moment. I''ll heal you!"


    She raised the harp and played more. The wound on Evensen''s eye healed, but the eye was not restored. Even elves couldn''t heal eye wounds that quickly. His finger stumps ceased to bleed, at least.


    "What happened here?" asked Kiyora.


    "A patrol came by and attacked," said Twilus. "Snooky he, he fought them off. One of them wounded him. I couldn''t heal him! It was all I could do to keep the spell from succeeding! I had to watch him bleed out!"


    "I''m sorry," said Kiyora. "Come on; we need to leave."


    "We can''t leave Snooky like this," said Twilus. "Not for the satyrs to eat him."


    "If we don''t get out of here, we''ll all end up getting eaten," said Kiyora. "Now come on! He wouldn''t want you to die here!" So the wolf had been good for something. No, no, that was her contact with Arraxia speaking, she shouldn''t feel any satisfaction at this.


    Snooky had been annoying, but he hadn''t deserved to die like that. Neither had Doltier. Or anyone.


    So they staggered onward. They left behind the bodies and ran. Evensen had to be supported the whole time, and they moved slowly. So slowly. Yet the soldier would not release the sword in his hand.


    And then Kiyora felt her. Arraxia had entered this world. And he was pissed.


    The beat of her wings was like thunder. A feral roar echoed throughout the woods. All the trees cowered as a being of flame appeared in the sky. The Axe of Fortenex was flaring with her rage.


    "Run!" said Kiyora. "Get back to Qur'' danas! She''s after me!"


    "We can''t leave you," said Twilus.


    "Go!" said Kiyora. "I can''t die, I''ll be fine! I''ll meet you there!"


    Twilus nodded mutely and pressed on. Kiyora turned back to where the flames were drawing near. The trees separated around her, creating a clearing as they cowered in fear. Arraxia landed, writhed in violet flame.


    "You bitch!" roared Arraxia. "You miserable blue-haired bitch you ruined everything!"


    "Well, that is what I do," said Kiyora, smiling.


    "I''ll kill you!" screamed Arraxia. "I''ll tear you limb from limb!"


    "Good luck with that," said Kiyora.


    She was out of power. She couldn''t do anything.


    The demoness charged at Kiyora and swung the axe. Kiyora had just time to hope she was right about not being able to die. Then everything went white.

 Chapter 356 - Eighteen: Safaras Gaze

    The letter said: Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    My son,


    I am concerned about the deaths, of course. I merely do not let those concerns get in the way of my overall goals. As for poor taste, I''m afraid there are far worse men than I. Still, I take your point about Byran into account. You have my word. I will show all due respect to local customs, as I always do.


    I will amend my statement about Melchious. I called him stupid because our viewpoints are completely alien to one another. The idea of someone who causes destruction and misery simply for its own sake is foreign to me. It is the antithesis of my beliefs. I prefer to cause as little devastation as possible in the pursuit of creating a legacy¡ªone that will hopefully last a thousand years. You have played an invaluable part in that.


    Regarding Arraxia, you underestimate her. I dearly wish you had been able to stop her from getting away. I regard her as far more competent than Melchious. Given sufficient resources, she could become a serious power in her own right. Still, I expect we will have some time before she learns to use either device.


    I am disappointed to hear about the winds. They are traditionally Kreshlak''s affair. I will have to consult his priests on the way to lift whatever curse your voyage is under. Fortunately, there are so many of them in Viokinar.


    Sincerely,


    Your Father, Duke Vanion Gabriel.


    William finished the letter in his room. After a moment, he drew up some paper and began to write his reply;


    Dear Father,


    I am in haste, so I must be brief. Estal is in a crisis. Prince Aris has convinced Princess Safara, Baltoth''s daughter, to elope with him. Even as we speak, Calisha is probably on its way with an army.


    By the time you receive this war may have been declared. Do you have any insight for me? I need help.


    Sincerely,


    Your son, William Gabriel


    When he had finished, he let the ink dry. Then he took it to Mother. "Here is my letter. Did you write to yours?"


    "Yes," said Azgora. "I am glad we''ll finally have a war I can fight in. Bearing Soren and Calgora kept me from the fighting with the raishans. But at last, I shall have the chance to show my valor."


    "Well, I''m sure the King will appreciate it," said William. He had not discussed the matter of Zeya with her. He did not think the conversation would go well.


    The door opened, and Felix entered. "William, Aris, and Safara are about to meet with the King to request sanctuary. If you intend to say anything, you''d best do so now."


    William looked to Azgora, who was now polishing her shield. She looked up. "Go, my son. I have no interest in the matter."


    "Very well," said William.


    When he finally got to the great hall, he found the assembly waiting. Tanith was there, and she looked at him in surprise. "William, where have you been?"


    "Writing a letter to my father," said William. "I''m hoping he''ll find a way to stop all this."


    "I wouldn''t count on getting out of it that easily, William," said Tanith.


    "If I wanted to ''get out of it,'' I should have left with the tide," muttered William.


    "Fair enough," said Tanith.


    Then came the herald. "King Estal, your son, Prince Aris, is here with the Lady Safara."


    Into the room came Aris. And with him was Safara, still hooded and cloaked. King Estal and the court looked at her. As they did, William felt that same tugging at his heartstrings. He saw the others also felt it and evidently were more affected. He has experience keeping his will in the face of magical influence.


    He had control of what he felt.


    He caught a single blue eye glancing over him from under Safara''s hood. He found there was a lump in his throat, but he swallowed it down. He was in control.


    And then she shed her cloak like a snake sheds its skin. Her bare, tanned shoulders were revealed. Her raven hair, tied into a raised ponytail, flowed behind her like a river. Her bright blue eyes shone as she put her hands behind her back, sticking out her chest. She slithered forward, hips swaying.


    Gasps of awe filled the room. People leaned forward, entranced by her beauty¡ªand what beauty it was. Nothing William had ever seen had come remotely close. More than ever now, he desired to hold her¡ªbut not to possess her¡ªto be possessed¡ªto be hers and hers alone and be given what place in the universe she decided best.


    For surely, there could be nothing more beautiful than for her to look upon him with pleasure. What greater glory could there be than hearing praise from her perfect, pouty lips? No bliss could be greater than to have her coil around him and-


    Wait.


    William had been through this before. She was enchanting him and everyone else in this entire room, yet his mouth was still dry. Being aware that he was not himself when looking at her didn''t nullify her powers. He felt he should speak up, but he felt unbearable shame even considering questioning her.


    He decided to hold his tongue for now.


    "Princess Safara, I have heard tales of your unworldly beauty. But I had not believed them until now," said Estal, as enchanted as everyone else. "You shine more radiantly than the sun itself."


    "King Estal, your words are courteous," said Safara, bowing low to the King. "I ask for sanctuary in your kingdom from my brother, Baelgost." Such grace and beauty. Such humility. Her she was, the fairest of a race of gods, and yet she spoke to a mere mortal-


    No.


    "Why is it that you seek shelter from your brother, my lady?" asked Estal.


    "Because I have been forced to marry him," said Safara. "The decision was made without my consent when I was taken from my home at a young age. He is older than me by many years and cares nothing for me. His thoughts are only on blood and death, and yet I am forced to live with him.


    "I am a prisoner in my own home. A wife who is unwanted by her husband and yet is forced to abide with him."


    Cries of dismay and sympathy went throughout the hall. And William realized that many of the cries came from women as well as men. It seemed that gender was no object. Only Felix was unaffected. He merely looked even more furious and had one hand on his sword. William put a hand on his shoulder.


    "They''re almost breaking into tears," William murmured.


    "Your tale is one of woe, and I grieve for you," said Estal, seeming to be struggling. Yet... to give you sanctuary would be a grave risk." Estal must have been very strong of will. William had fended off the influence of Laughing Wraith, Arraxia, and Melchious, and yet he could hardly keep his sanity.


    "Calisha lusts for conquest by violence," said Aris. "They will seek war sooner or later. And if by doing so, we may aid a lady, Father, it seems to me that it is better to have it sooner."


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    This was absurd. This perfect creature, devoid of flaw or malice, must not be allowed to stay. The risk was too great. A will was pressed against him, but William forced himself to speak. "King Estal, if I might speak."


    "What is it, Sir Gabriel?" asked Estal.


    Sir Gabriel. He had not yet been formally knighted, but it seemed he was regarded as such. "Safara is the daughter of Baltoth. And if you grant her sanctuary, Baltoth will be enraged. His fleets will sail with the next tide, and war will rage with Calisha. Even if victory is gained, it will be at great cost, and there will be many more wars to fight.


    "Moreover, to do so in such a fashion would make you the aggressor on the world stage. It will be very difficult to rally support from the other Harlenorian Kingdoms."


    "And what would you have us do, then?" asked Estal, voice guarded.


    "Return her to Baltoth with gifts of apology. Stop this war before it begins," said William. "It..." He felt horrible. Here was this magnificent and utterly perfect creature, and he was trying to send her back. He could see her looking upon him without judgment, merely hurt. "It may save lives." He almost mumbled the last bit.


    Safara prostrated herself before Estal and set a hand on his foot. Shame came on William, and it was all he could do not to cringe. "I am at your mercy, King Estal. Baelgost may not want me, but his pride is such that should you send me back, I will die."


    "Let her stay!" cried someone.


    "My Lords, have you no shame!" came a sudden yell. The hateful advisor, whose name had been driven from William''s mind, came forward. "The creature we are speaking to is no maiden but the spawn of Baltoth himself! Allowing it to remain here is madness, yet returning it to Calisha will only allow it to continue to work its dark will!


    "Let us slay the beast and send its head to Baltoth in a challenge! His fleets will break upon our island like waves!"


    Several men put their hands to their swords while others cried in anger. But Estal raised a hand for silence. "Calm yourself, Esgroth. She is a guest in my house and will not be harmed by any within it. Whether we return her is another matter."


    Esgroth. What a hateful name. Safara was very good at this, wasn''t she?


    "Father, I would speak," said Aris.


    "Of course you may, my son," said Estal.


    "William Gabriel, you have said that we should be concerned for the honor of Baltoth," said Aris. "I ask you, what honor is that? He who ambushed and murdered Anoa IX without defiance sent. He who cowers behind armies of minions while safe in his palace. And war? We have been at war with Calisha for many long years, and Estal has never fallen. If he wanted to take this place, it would be the end of his Empire.


    "And for support, you speak as though Estal needs it? Long have we shielded the Harlenorian Kingdoms. We protected them from the raids of Viokin and Calishan alike. While your father spoke of peace and parleyed with the nemesis of Elranor, I was fighting at sea.


    "We are skilled at sea warfare more than any other nation of Harlenor. With cunning stratagems, we may well defeat the Calishan fleet at sea. And what if they prove stronger there? Estal is impregnable, and we do not need the imported luxuries. We are hard men and may hold out for many years.


    "And in that time, all of Harlenor will see us and be inspired. Baltoth will be drawn from one battlefield to another, and he will fail. Then, he must either withdraw his hand or suffer many other losses. Thus, in defeat, we shall deal him great harm."


    His words rang true. William almost cringed in shame. His gaze turned to Safara, whose brilliant eyes bored into him, pleading with him to see reason, to accept her. But he could not. He would not, though he yearned to. "You assume far too must. In war, nothing is certain. Baltoth will defeat your fleets and find some means to bypass or destroy Estal''s defenses. And even if all goes as you say, how can you be sure Harlenor will march to war?


    "We are not yet reunited as the prophecy says we will be. The Kings have their own affairs, and few men will gladly battle Baltoth without good reason. It may seem to some that you have provoked Baloth into a needless war. And you can be assured that Baltoth''s emissaries will say so."


    "No true man of Harlenor would ever take the word of an emissary of Baltoth over those of their brethren. And Estal is of great import. Without us, Calisha would have free reign of the seas. We are needed, and they will not let us fall." said Aris. "Indeed, your father may be of great service here. He has the ear of many Kings and has great influence. He will seek your deliverance should we be besieged with you fighting alongside us. So, by your very presence, you have done us great service."


    "One I am all too happy to provide," said William, feeling like crawling into a hole and dying. "But you are gambling your nation. Your Majesty, I have said my piece. The decision is yours and no others."


    King Estal remained silent. He looked to Aris, then William, then Esgroth. Finally, he looked upon Safara. His gaze settled longest on her. William knew the answer before it was spoken. "...I shall grant Safara sanctuary if she so desires it."


    "I do desire it," said Safara. Although he had made himself her opponent, William rejoiced inwardly. "However, good king, there is a way all may be satisfied."


    "Speak, my Lady?" said Estal.


    "His will made the marriage between myself and Baltoth," said Safara. "Therefore his will may unmake it. Prince Aris is as of yet unwed. If we were to be married, it would create a friendship between Calisha and Estal that would keep back the war."


    "You cannot consider this, my King," said Esgroth. "Would you have your grandchildren have the blood of Baltoth within them?" William felt less hatred for him now. He suspected this was another manipulation, though. Had he hated him to begin with?


    "I understand your hatred of my family," said Safara in a voice of infinite understanding. "There have been many years of a long war between our peoples. The scars from the battles fought are still fresh. Yet, doing this would avert the unhappy calamities that have hurt both our peoples.


    "Is there not more honor in a house built from strong foundations? Rather than setting afire to the house of your neighbors?


    "Estal has been of great help in waging war. Yet what if it was turned to matters of peace? With the friendship between Calisha and Harlenor, you would profit greatly from trade. And in so doing, you might be the beginnings of an avalanche of great kindnesses. One which in time could wipe away the blood that has been shed between fair Calisha and mighty Harlenor."


    Oh, so now that she had her way, she was in favor of peace. William felt horrible for thinking that. It didn''t make it any less true. Felix was visibly shaking with rage now.


    "What you say has some merit," said Estal. No, it didn''t. "Aris, will you wed her?"


    "I will," said Aris. "If it is your will."


    "Then we shall seek peace by these means," said Estal. "And if Calisha still seeks war, then the guilt of it shall lie on them."


    "King Estal, I have a request," said a voice.


    Estal looked up, and Mother entered the room. She was dressed for war and held a spear and shield. On her head was her silver helm that hit all but her eyes. She looked at Safara, seemed to think very little of her, and brushed past without a word.


    Safara flinched as though struck.


    "Yes, Lady Azgora, what is it?" asked Estal.


    "Allow me to fight alongside your armies in this glorious coming war," said Mother. "And continue to train your militias in the ways of war. In particular, among the outlying villages."


    Cheers came from the men.


    "You are most welcome, for I have heard the news of your achievements," said Estal. "The slaying of the Hydra Tiamus is a tale many merchants tell. And by all accounts, your valor is second only to Raynald De Chevlon in the service of Duke Vanion."


    Mother narrowed her eyes. "It is second to none."


    The meeting adjourned. William got as far away from the great hall as he possibly could. As he walked, he mulled over the situation. Safara''s beauty continued to trouble him. And the way her eyes had fallen upon him ever so briefly. She was almost pleading.


    William realized he desired her more than he had ever desired anything. And some part of him kept telling him that she desired him. It was absurd, unthinkable, but it kept pressing at him.


    He needed to get his mind off this. He looked to Felix, ever-present and glowering. "...Do you think it will work?"


    "No. Suloth might accept such a political marriage if Safara were unmarried," said Felix. "But if Aris thinks he can steal Baelgost''s wife and get a political marriage out of it, he will be disappointed."


    "Alright then," said William. Perhaps Aris would be killed in battle, and William could prove himself the hero of Estal. Perhaps- No, no, no. He was not even going to contemplate this. This was how Safara affected everyone. Or so he assumed. "Felix if you were going to try and avert a war without giving up Safara, how would you do it?"


    If they did not give her up, he could have her. Where had that thought come from? Oh, right, he knew where.


    "I couldn''t," said Felix. "If Safara is not returned, then Baltoth must act. If you press me, I suggest dealing enough defeats to make it not worth the effort. Then we could negotiate. However, this won''t be like Artarq. This time it is personal.


    "Baltoth will not be easily swayed from his attack. Defeat one fleet, and he will send another. Bar one passage to victory, and he shall take a different one. He will also likely call upon the Bats of Neseriah for this."


    William felt a chill. "Are you certain?"


    "Yes," said Felix. "Calisha hesitates to call upon the animal spirits that Baltoth had unions with. They are not easily replaceable. However, he will draw upon them for an insult like this."


    "Then I suppose we''ll just have to win," said William. Anything was possible. Elranor was his strength.


    "To hell with victory, William," said Felix. "My only hope is that we''ll be taken captive instead of slaughtered. We won''t be fighting King Banir, the easily duped. Suloth will send someone very competent, and he will bring with him his demons. We should get out while we still can. We may even face the Immortals."


    "I can''t do that," said William. That thought he knew to be real.


    "Then I''m not sure what else to tell you," said Felix. "I''m your servant. Not your keeper." There was bitterness in his voice.


    William owed him an apology. "... I''m sorry I struck you before. But you were out of line."


    "I am well aware who among us is superior. Never fear," said Felix. Why did he look amused?


    "What was I to do?" asked William. "Let you insult royalty unchallenged? He could have killed us both."


    Felix remained silent for a long, long time. "...Very little," he admitted at last.


    War was looming. And William could not escape the memory of Safara''s smoldering eyes upon him.

 Chapter 357 - Nineteen: The Will of Safara

    Weeks later, the letter said;


    William,


    I''ve done as you asked. No help will come from Escor. The Dragon Empire is invading through the southern pass. King Vortegex is fighting them. I''ve put out a call for mercenaries. Little response. Most are fighting in the Iron Kingdom.


    You have stabbed yourself in the foot.


    Sorry,


    Raynald.


    William had smiled when he read it. You could always rely on Raynald to be short and to the point in his letters. The withered-armed man hated reading and hated writing even more. He''d only learned because Rusara had forced him to learn. Now, he sat in a council of war as one officer after another made their reports.


    "Prince Aris, how fairs the army?" asked Estal.


    "My men are more than prepared," said Aris. "When the Calishans come against us, we''ll make them pay a dear price for it." S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I thought we hoped to avoid a war," said William, though he never knew if it meant giving up Safara. Unless giving up Safara would bring peace, in which case he would give her up.


    William would do it in a heartbeat.


    She meant nothing to him. He''d hardly even seen her in the halls. However, the wedding somehow got lost. Somehow, once it had been decided on, the decision faded away from everyone''s minds.


    There was only a vague idea of gaining Baltoth''s blessing. It only flittered through his mind when he pressed the subject. And even that faded when he considered Baltoth''s blessing to ben''t very important. Where was he?


    "Wise men always prepare for war, even in peace," said Aris.


    Only an instant had passed, yet time always seemed to slow to a crawl when I thought about Safara, her perfect hair and shimmering coils that glistened brilliantly in the sun.


    "Esgroth, what news from the merfolk of the sea?" asked Estal.


    Was everyone affected by her? Or was it just William. He hadn''t noticed much change in everyone. Yet then he''d been able to function well despite the presence of Safara. His unyielding and unconditional love of her was there at all times. But it allowed him to keep his identity.


    She was benevolent like that.


    "It is worse than we expected," said Esgroth, who alone had been different. He''d been in a fouler mood than ever. He''d even had harsh words for Safara when they met in the halls. "No sooner had the Festival of the Hearth ended and the Calishans gathered their fleets. They will be ready to move before the month is out. They must have begun mobilizing as soon as Prince Aris'' ship had sailed."


    "Merfolk? Why would they help us?" asked William.


    "In my younger days, I had a number of adventures beneath the sea," said Esgroth. "In one of them, I saved the life of a daughter of the Shark Queen. In exchange, he brings me news of all the fleets which travel around Estal."


    "Indeed," said Estal. "By his very presence, Esgroth is invaluable to our wars."


    It was true then. Even the most unpleasant of people were capable of good. "What is our plan now? Do we wait here for the fleet to be mustered?"


    "How many ships do they number now?" asked Estal.


    "Nearly a thousand, my king," said Esgroth.


    "A thousand?" asked Estal, incredulous.


    "And it is growing larger by the week. Calisha is mustering vast forces," said Esgroth. "Baltoth will strike when he has overwhelming force. And his gathering of it tells me that he is determined to war on us."


    "Numbers are of no use if you cannot deploy them," said Aris, shaking his head. "If we engage the enemy well, we can use their strength against them."


    "There is one other thing, my King," said Esgroth.


    "Yes," said Estal.


    "There is a ship bearing the Emissary of Baltoth," said Esgroth. "No doubt she will demand the return of Safara and our subjugation."


    "We shall wait for her and negotiate when we speak," said Estal. "We may yet avert this war."


    William didn''t believe it for an instant. The only way that would happen was if Safara were returned, and she had worked her magic far too well for that. He wondered if it was a deliberate action on her part or if she merely made all who looked upon her love her.


    The latter seemed more likely. After all, one so perfect would never use magic to force people to act contrary to their interests. Not that it was against their interests to harbor Safara. Just to be stabbed to death by Calishans.


    "We cannot wait, Father," said Aris.


    "You have something to say, my son?" asked Estal.


    "Once Baltoth has mustered his fleet, he cannot send it back home," said Estal. "Now, without concessions on our part. At best, he will give us a chance to become his slaves in exchange for being spared.


    "War is all but declared."


    "I fear you may be correct, my son," said Estal. How quickly hopes for peace had been abandoned. "Young William, what news from Raynald De Chevlon?"


    It was his turn then. "I received a letter from him this morning. Here it is. Escor cannot come to our aid. They are fighting off an invasion from the Dragon Empire on their southern border. In time, we might gain help when those battles are over. But for now, we are on our own."


    "We should attack at once," said Tanith.


    "Tanith?" asked Aris. "Attack a fleet larger than ours and growing?"


    "Why not?" asked Tanith. The Calishan fleet is only going to get larger, and they think they are safe in their harbors. If we attack quickly, we could take them by surprise and even win before they set foot on Estal."


    "That is far too risky," said Estal. What if they hear about us?"


    "Well, why don''t we have Esgroth contact the merfolk and have them tell us where the fleets are," said Tanith. "We could be able to defeat Calisha''s fleet piecemeal."


    "Tanith is right," said Aris. "Our odds will only get worse as time goes on. This way, we might do serious damage and slow down their invasion. More time will mean we will be stronger."


    "Would you have us attack without defiance sent, my son?" asked Estal.


    "No," said Aris. "The emissary is coming here. Let her in. Welcome her politely and with all due courtesy. But declined her answer. Then, when she is in the palace, we may set out with our fleet at once. Once we are away, you''ll decline her offer.


    "We''ll also leave a large part of our army behind. In case the battle goes poorly. What I have in mind may be done with a few ships and many."


    "My son, as always, I am pleased with your daring," said Estal. Why did his words sound forced?


    "I don''t like this," said William. "It may not technically be dishonorable, but it is still deception."


    "Sometimes honor much come second to victory," said Aris.


    Or to peace. No doubt the scoundrel had tricked Safara into coming here. What was he thinking? Safara must have known what was happening.


    "We started this war to defend a lady''s honor," said William flatly. "Should we not fight it in an honorable fashion?"


    "Watch your tone with me, Gabriel," said Aris. "You may be a guest, but-"


    Estal raised a hand. Aris went silent. "Enough. Quarreling among ourselves will solve nothing. Safara is dear to my heart as she is to all of us, and we must do all we can to defend her. So, we will make our plans and work against Calisha. If it is to be war, it will be war."


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    "King Estal, there is one other matter we must attend to," said William. "The cyclopi."


    "Ah yes," said Estal. "Do you believe we should ally with them?


    "I don''t think that is practicable," said William. "Peace may have been made, but it is much too soon to ask them to fight for you. However, it might be possible to hire them as mercenaries. And if that should fail, we should try to get their pledge that they will remain neutral in the conflict."


    "A wise policy, William," said Estal. "Will you take charge of this matter?"


    "Gladly, of course," said William. "But..." It pained him to say this. "King Estal, I realize that you care for Safara. However, if we may avert this war by returning her, should we not-"


    "I will not hear of it," said Estal. I realize you think only of peace. But peace, in some circumstances, means surrender. It would be the height of dishonor to return Safara now."


    William nodded. "Then I will speak with the cyclopi."


    "Oh, come on, William," said Tanith. "You''ll miss the opening battle."


    "Tanith, given my father''s stance, I would not feel comfortable joining the battle. Not if there is another way I may serve," said William. "Besides, this war won''t end in one battle.


    "Not by a long shot."


    Tanith seemed cheered up by this news. No one else shared her glee. William supposed he should be grateful for that.


    The meeting was adjourned. William once again walked the halls with Felix. And as he did, he felt an undeniable sense of frustration in the air. It was frustration with William. Something was pressing in on him.


    "Something is wrong here, Felix," said William. "One moment, Safara is an unwanted guest. Now everyone is gladly marching to war in her name." It pained him to even speak of it.


    "It''s her nature," said Felix.


    "What?" said William.


    "Everyone loves Safara. They can''t help it," said Felix. "Didn''t you find it strange that a half-demon with the snake''s body slithered off the dock?"


    William realized that the idea hadn''t even occurred to him. "No. No, I didn''t, now that you mention it. All I could think of was how beautiful she was."


    "Exactly," said Felix. "She is like a snake staring down a mouse. Only instead of freezing them with fear, she does it with love. Instead of swallowing them whole, she consumes their hearts. She clouds their minds until they cannot think of anything but pleasing her."


    "I hope you are exaggerating," said William.


    Felix shrugged. "She was brought to Ruscow to control her, William. Back in the jungles of the East, she used her powers to control people. To make them act the way she thought they ought to act. Cities would join hands together and sing if she asked them to. And she did.


    "Eventually, she started to pick off villages in Neseriah''s domain, and there was a war between them. Safara lost and was brought back to Ruscow for judgment."


    "Why didn''t you say this before?"


    "Well, I might have," said Felix. "But you were so violently opposed to anyone speaking ill of her."


    "You''ve got to be joking," said William. You risked dooming an entire nation to a slavery of the mind because I struck you¡ªan act done because you were disrespectful to royalty¡ªan act for which I apologized."


    "No," admitted Felix. "It didn''t come to mind, truth be told. I haven''t been home in many years. And anyway, Safara affects me as well."


    Something was bothering William. "...Felix, you said you saw her when she was going to her wedding. Yet she said it happened when she was young. That must have been hundreds of years ago. Demons live a long time."


    "I lied to make myself more impressive," said Felix. "People do it all the time."


    "Except you don''t," said William. "When we were traveling through Seathorius after you burned that satyr village down. You went out of your way to make it seem as unimpressive as possible. I''ve known you half my life, and I still can''t read you." He paused and waited. But Felix didn''t answer. "Nevermind. So what do we do about this?"


    "What can we do?" asked Felix. "Then there will be a great war. If Estal wins, Safara will have the island wrapped around her little finger in a few years. If Calisha wins, we''ll be dead."


    William concluded. A conclusion so obvious it should have occurred to him some time ago. Yet it hadn''t. "... I''ll break the spell myself."


    Then his thoughts dimmed. A long, scaly tail came behind him, binding his arms to his side and bringing him around. It squeezed him tightly, covering his entire lower body. Then he was face to face with Safara. "Really, William, must you interfere?"


    His every thought seemed seeped in mud. For a moment, he could think of nothing¡ªnothing except how beautiful Safara looked. Then came the guilt for daring to resist her, for making something difficult, something easy.


    "Lady Safara, I presume Felix''s assessment was correct," William said. "Based on your presence."


    And then he felt the blood rush to his head as she wrapped her arms around him and pressed him into her bosom. He felt her full power on him now, pressing down around him. "I was young and did not understand things like free will, William. All I knew was that people loved me and would do anything for me when I set my mind to it. But I''ve changed since. I realize that people must be left to make their own choices.


    "I intend now to use my powers for the betterment of Estal, I promise you."


    She promised. Safara would never break a promise. He could feel her within him, her mind lovingly caressing his, trying to reshape his thoughts. He''d felt something like this before. Arraxia''s kiss had made his entire universe revolve around her as if she were the sole reason for being.


    But Safara was different. Safara induced love in people. Love of her, and through it, she brought focus to their lives. Made them improve themselves. Her control was for their betterment, not hers. He needed only to stop resisting.


    "Of course you do," William staggered out a response. "What happened to your marriage to Aris?" He tried to break free, but she squeezed him tighter. Her hands gripped his shoulder.


    "Don''t be foolish. Aris doesn''t love me," said Safara. "Not any more than anyone else, at any rate. No, Aris desires war with Calisha. He also lusts after me. Those two desires were fulfilled through me, as all desires are. King Estal desired that his son marry and settle down. I will fulfill that desire when the war is over."


    "Meaning that you''ll force him to," gasped William. He could hardly breathe.


    "Force him?" asked Safara, voice musical as her tail wrapped tighter around him. "No, merely influence. A careful nudge here, a flutter of the eyes here. I don''t force people to do anything. I just get them to see things my way."


    "And what about all the people who will die because of this?" asked William.


    She stroked his head as if comforting a distressed child. "It''s unfortunate. But in sixty to eighty years, most humans alive today will die. Their children and grandchildren will have taken their place. But at that same time, I may establish my own empire. An empire born of passion, not blood. Love, rather than hatred. I will change things for the betterment of all people rather than a few."


    "What makes you more qualified to rule than King Estal?" asked William.


    "I have studied the art of ruling from Suloth, William," said Safara. "You don''t have to worry. Why do you oppose me? I know that you hate violence. Wouldn''t it be better to see an end to all wars? Your father desires to establish permanent peace.


    "To stop all this conflict. To stop struggling."


    The last words were almost a command. William found his eyes closing. He felt like a child drifting off to sleep in his mother''s arms. Except Mother had never held him like this, had she? With good reason. She''d wanted him to be strong.


    Safara just wanted him to be compliant.


    Suddenly, he found he had more strength than he had thought. He opened his eyes fully and pulled himself back. He managed it despite her attempts to keep him near her. "My father desires power, not peace. And in the words of King Estal himself: In some circumstances, peace means surrender."


    Safara looked at him for a moment without expression. She seemed to be examining him. Finally, she set him down and released him. "You don''t bend to my will easily, do you?"


    "I''ve had a great deal of experience with this kind of thing," admitted William.


    "Well, you are strong of will, I must admit," said Safara. "I''ve heard you playing music for your chimera. It is excellent, and the will behind it is breathtaking. You were named well. However, I have been practicing my art, honing my skills for many centuries.


    "But your efforts are futile. I am the living incarnation of a power greater than any other. Love."


    "Hardly," said William.


    "Don''t you see?" asked Safara. "Love is eternal. Love is steadfast. Only love will remain when hell and heaven have fallen into nothingness. My power is not corruption, which can be washed away by the rain. It is a great tree that only flourishes by the ministrations of the just.


    "You should serve me. You are a man of great virtue and strength. Serve me, and I can show you passion and joy beyond the reach of any other emotion."


    Her will washed against him, stronger than ever. But William pushed back and was not swayed. "Get out of my mind. I worship Elranor and him alone."


    "And I''m simply not interested," said Felix.


    Safara sighed. "I can see you are stubborn about this. Well, it seems we are at an impasse, my friends. I cannot control either of you, yet neither can you defeat my influence."


    Then she turned and slithered away. Felix looked at William. "William, give the order, and her head will be at your feet."


    "I didn''t see you doing anything when she was binding me in her coils," said William.


    "I did try," admitted Felix. "Unfortunately, I am no more immune to her charms than you. You kill someone you find yourself loving more than life itself." He paused. "But if you want, I could try. It is a solution worth considering."


    "No," said William. "She is under King Estal''s protection. We cannot harm her directly. For now, we''ll speak with the cyclopi." He paused. "Felix."


    "Yes?" said Felix.


    "Why is it that every time I run into a demoness, they try to mind control me?" asked William.


    Felix seemed to consider the question. "Well, for one thing, you are a paladin of Elranor. So you are forbidden fruit and therefore more attractive for that. You are very handsome, so there is a physical appeal. You have a pure spirit; they fantasize about corrupting that. But at the same time, you have a dry wit which gives them the thrill of competition. And your skill at battle and intelligence means you''d be an excellent subordinate.


    "The female population of hell wants you as a pet. You''ll just have to live with it. Or let Arraxia put a collar around your neck. You''d probably enjoy it."


    William looked at him in irritation. "You came up with that list far too quickly."


    "I''ve had time to consider it," said Felix.


    "Once again," said Wiliam." What are we going to do about this?"


    "We could write to Suloth and ask how he controlled her all these years," mused Felix.


    "We both know that isn''t an option," said William. "Though we could write to Suloth and tell him Safara is mind-controlling the King. It might slow him down."


    "He probably already has guessed that much," said Felix. "Which is why he is already mobilizing. He knows Safara won''t be returned without a fight."


    William sighed. "...I think she might be out of my league."


    "Yes, Safara is of significantly higher birth, all things considered," said Felix. "You might qualify as a consort. I doubt she''ll limit herself to just Aris."


    "No, no, I mean there are other paladins," said William, ignoring the bait. "King Anoa is the head of an entire order of paladins. One of them has got to be strong enough to break the spell. And if not them. Rusara might manage it."


    "Gail Arengeth has the power," mused Felix.


    Gail Arengeth? The legendary eternal sorcerer. "His concern is mostly Escor, but I take your point. Even so, Rusara is probably stronger," William sighed. "It doesn''t matter anyway. What we have to do is win this war. Then we can write to King Andoa, and he can handle it."


    "Or we could lose the war, and Suloth will take care of things for us," said Felix.


    "There is that," said William. "Well, there is nothing we can do about it now, and we have a task from the King. Let''s get to it."

 Chapter 358 - Twenty: Fuel to the Fire

    Upon a dark throne on the peaks of the mountains of Kreshlak, Fortenex surveyed the war. There, he saw the white ships of Estal sailing swift and sure across the water. Led by the merfolk, they caught a fleet of Calishan ships in the harbor. A vessel was soaked with oil and set aflame.


    Fortenex''s champion steered the ship herself. It landed among the Calishans, and many were set to flame. Yet the winds were not favorable. No request came from Elranor, and much damage was done. Even so, many of the Calishan ships escaped the burning.


    Prince Aris'' fleet withdrew and was fast pursued. The battle was joined beneath the cliffs of the sword peninsula. Here, Prince Aris and Tanith did deeds of great valor. Fortenex smiled at them and gave them strength.


    Already, the two of them had boarded the fleet of a Calishan Lord. Tanith was hacking and slashing, smiling as she cut the limbs and heads off men by the dozen. Aris was behind her. He launched arrow after arrow, and each one found its mark. Behind him came the men of Estal, who washed over the defender''s broken line.


    Many widows in Calisha would long lament that day.


    "See how she fights, Karasush," said Fortenex, pleasedly. "With the savagery of a satyr and the skill of a knight, could I ask for a more suitable champion?"


    "I am glad for you," said Karasush. "But Elranor hasn''t used the wind."


    Fortenex felt a twinge of irritation at that. Must Karasush spoil the show? "I noticed Karasush. No doubt, he perceived that I wanted him to use it then. Perhaps he hopes to defeat Baltoth by traditional means. Though I''ve never taken Elranor for a fool."


    "He may be trying to conserve his advantage," said Karasush. "Wait until he has a larger fleet of Calishan ships to destroy. Or perhaps he has decided to sacrifice Estal to pursue his goal."


    "Why would he sacrifice Estal?" asked Fortenex. "The one that controls it controls the passages between Viokinar, Harlenor, and Calisha. It is of vital importance."


    "Elranor is not interested in a full-scale war with Calisha," admitted Karasush. "Or so I guess. Duke Vanion is doing his work at the moment. Elranor will be in a powerful position if he can secure Viokinar as the new Harlenorian Kingdom."


    "Yet that does not answer my question, Karasush," said Fortenex.


    "I am thinking, milord," said Karasush. I think I have it. I believe that Elranor intends to force a stalemate with Calisha. Perhaps keep Estal out of their hands but satisfy them with some preferential treatment in trade. Reduce the ships that Estal is allowed to field, that sort of thing.


    "Either that or he believes Calisha is going to collapse because of unrelated forces. He may know something we don''t. Certainly, I can''t imagine him approving of Aris'' actions or holding any affection for Safara''s pleas."


    "A stalemate, then?" asked Fortenex. He''d never liked stalemates. There wasn''t nearly enough rape and murder in them as a one-sided massacre. "Yes, I could see Estal managing that. Duke Vanion would probably invite Suloth for tea and politely speak with him. Then he''ll convince everyone that a mass bloodletting isn''t worth their time. And wouldn''t it be nice if they could all pretend to be friends?"


    "Duke Vanion would be hard-pressed to it," said Karasush. "This is no raid upon a Calishan village. Aris has kidnapped the daughter of Baltoth. Whether she gave consent doesn''t matter.


    "No, this is a question of honor. So it will be single combat that ends this story."


    Fortenex laughed. "Single combat? I wouldn''t say I like the sounds of that. Explain yourself, Karasush."


    "Vanion''s best hope for making peace is for the war to cost Calisha dearly and drag on," said Karasush. "When enough blood has been spilled, he can suggest Aris and Baelgost fight in single combat. For the hand of Safara, of course.


    "Whoever wins will keep her."


    "That won''t resolve things, Karasush, and you know," said Fortenex. "Calisha isn''t launching hundreds of ships to watch a fight. Baltoth will want to get something out of this."


    "You are right, of course," said Karasush. "Vanion will no doubt work out a favorable deal which will go into effect either way. The fight is merely part of the narrative. So that when Calisha returns home, they can describe the epic final duel. The battle where Baelgost slew Aris and reclaimed his stolen wife.


    "Instead of Vanion offering them a trade deal to go away.


    "Narrative, my friend, is nearly as important to politics as the deal." He paused. "...I do not mean-"


    "No, it''s all right, Karasush," said Fortenex. "You''ve been indispensable long enough to warrant the status.


    "Now the question remains, what are we to do about this?"


    "Lord Fortenex, there is no surety that things will even reach that point," said Karasush. "Calisha may well destroy Estal before the cost becomes high enough."


    "Yes, of course, things may go like that," said Fortenex. A resolve came to him. "We''ll have to make sure that doesn''t happen."


    "And how will we do that? Summon the winds?" asked Karasush.


    "Unfortunately, no. I do not want to be seen openly opposing my brother," said Fortenex. If Elranor had demanded it, I could use the winds against him and just claim I was fulfilling my obligations. However, if I enter the war on Elranor''s side, I invite reprisals.


    "No, we must be cunning.


    "How are our wars with the colonists going?"


    And he looked there. He saw Grendesh fighting with a group of adventurers. The steel-handed giant had clubbed in two of their heads and was now working on a third. Yet elsewhere, a small, white-bearded sorcerer was setting satyrs and giants on fire. He bore the symbol of Magicora, a white dove flying before the sun. Then, there was a fortified village holding out against a siege. Spearmen were holding a line against waves of satyrs.


    "We have seized a great deal of land, Lord Fortenex," said Karasush. "Grendesh is proving just as deadly with his new hand as with the old one. However, Duke Vanion has several critical battles that have thrown us back.


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    "Fortunately, Vanion can''t use his advantage. He''s too busy trying to reorder what is left of the Iron Kingdom. He has been given the problem of knitting together a society that was coming apart before we gutted it."


    "Then he will gladly seek a truce," said Fortenex. "Go to King Byran and seek peace."


    "King Byran?" asked Karasush.


    "Yes. I don''t want Duke Vanion to be regarded as the King in all but name," said Fortenex.


    "Talking to Byran will undercut his authority."


    "Byran is far less reasonable than Vanion," Karasush warned him. "He hates satyrs and giants. His entire career has been spent fighting them."


    "Yes, but Vanion will convince him to agree," said Fortenex. "That makes Vanion an advisor. Not a power behind the throne."


    "It will take far more than that to undermine Duke Vanion''s authority, milord," said Karasush. "Byran relies on him for support."


    "True," conceded Fortenex. "But the greatest wars always result from the smallest of differences. By resolving our feud with Vanion, we open the door for him to begin bringing pressure on Baltoth to end the war.


    "That will take him out of our hair and advance our goal."


    "You contradict yourself, milord," said Karasush. "You want the war to continue as long as possible. Yet to want Vanion to begin negotiations."


    "The best wars are the ones which continue despite negotiations," said Karasush. "Where the efforts of the meek and the peaceful fail and the flames of wrath burn ever brighter. Thus will all the land be reduced to ashes, and the burning scent shall reach heaven."


    "...You believe that a failed negotiation will escalate the conflict," guessed Karasush.


    "If I must be plain, yes," said Fortenex. "If the wars go on long enough, Vanion will have to throw his support behind Estal or be discredited. That is what we are aiming for."


    "And how will we ensure the war goes on?" asked Karasush.


    Karasush could always be relied on to keep Fortenex focused. "With a daring rescue, of course. One that cannot be traced back to us. Take charge of things, Karasush. I have a meeting with a long-estranged daughter." And he rose from his throne.


    "There is one other thing, milord," said Karaush. "With the Void Stone destroyed, we cannot open portals. We may have to start from scratch."


    Fortenex smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "Worry not, Karasush. The Void Stone was merely the shell around the true artifact. So long as the coming war is bloody enough, we should be able to improvise a solution."


    "Is that why you will meet Arraxia?" asked Karasush.


    Fortenex sighed. "No. I''ll let her draw her conclusions regarding the shard of the Hellfire Jewel. Melchious and I put a great deal of effort into getting that piece into this world. She can discover the mystery herself. I have other business with her."


    He did not take his chariot this time. He didn''t want to stir up any winds. Instead, he transported himself into the midst of Baltoth''s retribution. There, he found groups of satyrs dancing around a circle of bonfires. They howled and cried out in victory.


    As he stepped into the light of the fire, all the dancing stopped. Into view came a huge albino satyr. He was missing one hand and had many scars on his chest. However, he held a spear in one hand and pointed it forward.


    "Fortenex," said Doltier.


    "A battle happened here recently. And yet only three beings died," said Fortenex. "I don''t smell death on any of you. What have you been doing for the past few months?"


    "Our mistress took the Dreaming Goddess captive," said Doltier.


    "Very well," said Fortenex. "Bring me to her."


    "I have been instructed that if you came asking for her, you were to find her yourself," said Doltier.


    "Are you mocking me?" asked Fortenex.


    "If Arraxia intended for you to interpret it as mockery, then yes," said Doltier flatly.


    Fortenex paused. "I like you," he decided. "I''ll find her myself."


    He walked into the fortress, and wherever he went, satyrs scrambled to get out of the way. He sensed that this place was coursed with his daughter''s power and the Dreaming Goddesses. How had she managed to ally with them?


    He entered the throne room. Arraxia was lounging on her throne. His axe lay across her knees, and in one claw was clasped a small fragment of a red gem¡ªthe piece of undiluted power around which the Void Stone had been built. Did she even realize the potential of that artifact? If she did not, he had no intention of enlightening her.


    Yet best of all was what lay above. Floating in a blue crystal was the Dreaming Goddess. Her hair was flowing around her, and her expression was peaceful. There was his answer.


    "I am told you go by Arraxia of late," said Fortenex. "Or was it Saphra?"


    Arraxia looked up. "Fortenex. What the angel do you want?"


    "To see my interests advanced," said Fortenex. "And to gain vengeance for your mother. Both these things may be advanced through you."


    "How wonderful for you," said Arraxia, looking to be in a bad mood. "What is that to me?"


    "Well, I can''t help but notice that your plans have gone awry," said Fortenex. "The Void Stone is destroyed, and with it, all the souls you might have used for your own ends are gone. You still have the Axe of Fortenex, yet it has not yet fully responded to you.


    "Does it?"


    "I noticed," said Arraxia.


    "Do you know why I deny you full access to it? What do you lack that Melchious has?" asked Fortenex.


    "There is nothing," said Arraxia.


    "Blood on your hands," said Fortenex. "My servants are those who cause untold destruction and death. I value the smiling chancellor who orders the execution of a village as much as a berserker. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Melchious achieved his goals, and I respected that. But how he achieved them is where he truly became favored. The enemies were slaughtered, and the nations were put to the sword. These things I delighted in.


    "You lack that same thirst for blood."


    "I thirst for power. And I achieve it in whatever way I can," said Arraxia. "Causing massacres isn''t in my interest."


    "True enough. I respect that," said Fortenex. "However, I cannot condone what you have done to this land. Melchious turned these satyrs into the most bloodthirsty and vicious of all creatures. And you are well on your way to pulling their teeth."


    "They are mine, Fortenex," hissed Arraxia. "Not yours. I will shape them into whatever form pleases me. And if you try to interfere, I''ll destroy you and all of the animals you call wives."


    "Well spoken, daughter," said Fortenex. "I had begun to give up hope for you. Yet if you are to wield the Axe of Fortenex, you must cause death on a far greater scale than you are now."


    "You want me to do something for you," guessed Arraxia. "What is it?"


    "Why, march to war, of course," said Fortenex. "No doubt you''ve heard of the war coming to Estal."


    "News came to me of it, yes," said Arraxia. "The Dust Elves sent word."


    "Calisha is very likely to win and win quickly," said Fortenex. "However, if reinforcements were to be brought to Estal, the war might well have been extended a great deal."


    "You want me to enter into a brutal war of attrition with Calisha, leaving my domain exposed to the Nakmar and the elves," said Arraxia.


    "Queen Kiyora is naive and foolish," said Fortenex. She will not take advantage of such an opening. Moreover, can''t you sense it? Your saints are restless. For years, they have lived for blood and death. Yet now there is peace if a false one.


    "Soon enough, this false peace will fall to pieces. When that happens, there will be war anyway.


    "No. You need something to satiate their bloodthirst. And Estal is the perfect target."


    "What are you offering me in return?" asked Arraxia.


    "I''m giving you a chance to impress me, Arraxia," said Fortenex. "A chance to wield the full might of the Axe of Fortenex. With all this to gain, I''m sure you can find a way to secure your borders while your fleets sail to war."


    Arraxia seemed considered it. "...I want something more."


    "Hmm?" said Fortenex.


    "Well, in truth, I could stay here and do nothing, and my power would not diminish," said Arraxia. "On the other hand, if you don''t stop Baltoth from taking Estal, you''ll face many problems. No, I want something else."


    "What can a Father do for his daughter?" asked Fortenex.


    "I haven''t decided yet," admitted Arraxia. "When I decide, I''ll call you."


    "A little overconfident, aren''t we?" asked Fortenex.


    "Well, it is part of my charm," said Arraxia.


    "I remember now why your mother was my favorite," said Fortenex. "Don''t disappoint me, Arraxia." Then he turned to walk out.


    "You know the name you gave me," said Arraxia. "The least you could do is use it."


    "I don''t. I''ve quite forgotten it," admitted Fortenex. "You haven''t been important enough to warrant my attention until now. What is it?"


    Arraxia looked at him in silent fury. "..."...Then I have no intention of telling it to you."


    "Fair enough," said Fortenex.


    And he walked away.


    "Where are you going now?" asked Shamans.


    "I''m going to pay my shamans in the Islands of Power a visit," said Fortenex. I think it is time some of my other worshippers were spurred into action." Then he was gone.

 Chapter 359 - Twenty-One: The Bats of Neseriah

    It was an ordinary tavern within one of the villages of Estal. It stood next to the defensive wall which surrounded the settlement. William and Eitrigg ate together, Felix in the shadows silent, eating sparingly.


    "William, do you truly believe you can convince the Cyclopi to take our side?" asked Eitrigg. William considered his answer. He''d already given it a lot of thought. I believe I can. That doesn''t mean I''ll manage it. Father could."


    His answer seemed to surprise the priest. "We have been at war with them for years. Why would they choose our side so quickly?"


    "The enemy of my enemy is my friend," said William. "That is the most basic kind of alliance, Eitrigg. If their fear of the Calishans exceeds their hatred of us, there is the possibility of an alliance."


    "I don''t doubt many among them hate and fear us more," noted Eitrigg.


    "But they know you," said William. "They are familiar with the people of Estal. They know where they stand. If Calisha takes over this place, they do not know where they will stand. Thus, there is the fear of the unknown. And there is also the fear of power."


    "Fear of power?" asked Eitrigg. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes," said William. "Estal is far weaker than Calisha. If an all-out war were to break out between you and the Cyclopi, they would not stand a chance of victory. Yet, if Calisha conquers Estal, the dynamic will change. The Calishans could send one army after another at the Cyclopi until they fell.


    "Better to keep the Calishans off the island, to begin with. At least that is what I would do."


    "And if we are defeated?" asked Eitrigg.


    "If the war goes badly, the Cyclopi can withdraw from the alliance ahead of time," said William. "Negotiate for their independence with Calisha while Baltoth is dominant but not victorious. In doing so, they would ensure Calishan victory and get a more favorable deal.


    "After all, the cyclopi aren''t the ones who kidnapped a daughter of Baltoth from Ruscow. This war isn''t anything personal."


    "You think about these things a great deal, don''t you?" noted Eitrigg.


    "Lady Rusara and Lord Raynald instructed me on many things," said William. "And my father wrote me many letters of advice. War was a principal subject."


    "War?" Eitrigg smiled. "Surely this is the peace we''re discussing."


    "Eitrigg, I''ll let you in on a lesson Father taught me," said William. "Most wars are won long before the first blow is struck. Miraculous victories that turn the tide are just that: miraculous. Usually, the one who wins the battles is the one who positioned themselves in a better spot ahead of time."


    "I can''t believe this training regime!" said a loud voice.


    William turned his attention. Two boys his age were sitting across from eachother on a table. He guessed by their bearing that they were nobles. One had short black hair and long sideburns. The other wore his long and brown and was staring into his mug. "You can say it until the mountain falls, Ensor," the brown-haired one said. "It won''t change things."


    "That Azgora bitch had us training all day with hardly any sleep," said Ensor. "Even in the Feast of the Hearth. It''s all well and good to put the commoners through it, but I''m a noble. Someone ought to teach her a penetrating lesson.


    "I''d like to do it myself."


    William put his hand to his sword. Felix''s hand fell on it in a warning. Their eyes met. Felix was telling him not to be reckless.


    "I''m not any happier about it than you," said the brown-haired one. "But we are our father''s son. If it comes to battle, we''ll have to command them. I''ve learned more these past two weeks than I have in years."


    "Who cares about that, Soren?" asked Ensor. "The war always comes down to the knights and the mercenaries. We''ll only end up on the field of battle if Father lets us join the fleet. The best we''ll get is fighting outlaws and bandits. And the Cyclopi do a pretty good job of that.


    "Still, if nothing else, Azgora has a pair of legs worth looking at. And those breasts. I could-"


    William broke Felix''s grip, drew his sword, and, before he knew what was happening, put it to Ensor''s throat. "Before you say another word, remember you are speaking about my mother."


    Ensor looked at him, flinching. "I... I was just talking, you know. I didn''t mean any harm in it."


    "You are speaking to the son of the Lord Asborn, who rules this land," said Soren. He stood and placed a hand to his own sword.


    "Sir, I do not care if I am speaking to a Prince of Harlenor Reunited or a god in human form," said William. "No man has a right to speak of a lady in that fashion." Of course, that was somewhat hypocritical. He was guilty of the same fault as Safara. But in his defense, he hadn''t been in the best state of mind. In fact, she had probably driven him to it.


    "We will speak as we wish in our own lands," said Soren.


    Then his blade was out. William clashed swords with him, and they fought back and forth. In a moment, he had driven Soren off his legs. But before he could put the blade to his throat, Ensor had drawn his own weapon and engaged him.


    The two brothers went to William with blades. What had William been thinking?


    At that moment, Eitrigg stepped between them. "All of you, stop it! This isn''t the time or place!"


    Soren blinked. "Eitrigg? Why are you standing up for this rascal?"


    "There are enemies enough to fight without killing each other, Soren," said Eitrigg. "Now, both of you put your swords away. In a day, William and I will depart, and you need not see each other again."


    Reluctantly, they sheathed their weapons. Ensor looked at Eitrigg. "What brings you out here?"


    "King Estal wishes us to establish an alliance with the Cyclopi," said Eitrigg.


    "Cyclopi?" asked Ensor. "We don''t need their sort."


    "King Estal is right, Ensor," said Soren. "Every bit helps, and anyway, if I have to choose between an even fight and an easy victory, I choose the latter."


    "Personally, I''d rather avoid a fight altogether," said Eitrigg. "But that doesn''t seem likely anymore."


    "I wish you hadn''t sworn off violence," said Soren. "If it does come to war, I''d like to have you by our side."


    Eitrigg smiled. "You both learned your sword lessons well enough to do without me, Soren. Innkeeper, bring us another round. William, will you sit with us?"


    William said nothing for a moment. Eitrigg looked at him carefully, and Ensor and Soren seemed none too enthusiastic. Still, he supposed it could not hurt to be courteous. "If Ensor apologizes for the way he spoke of my mother, yes."


    Ensor looked at him with narrowed eyes. "... I''m sorry," he said finally, voice unapologetic. "I wasn''t aware you were related."


    "You are forgiven," said William, not feeling it. Even so, the gesture had been made.


    So it was that they all sat down. Eitrigg talked with Ensor and Soren of many things. Eitrigg had been something of an idol to both boys¡ªeven helping them learn swordplay. It was somewhat like Raynald had been to him.


    Yet inevitably, the conversation turned to Safara. William described her arrival in full. Ensor seemed particularly interested in William''s description of her. In fact, as soon as Safara was mentioned, there was almost a change in the room. William noticed that several other groups turned their conversation to her.


    "Eitrigg is it true that Princess Safara has the lower body of a snake?" asked Ensor.


    "It is," said Eitrigg. "Though it doesn''t come to mind when you are in her presence."


    "What does come to mind?" asked Ensor, looking too eager.


    "An unreasonable and unyielding passion," said Eitrigg. "Love, or perhaps blinding lust. She inspires it by her very presence. Love in particular."


    "Sounds like a real beauty," said Ensor. He was practically salivating. He was really an animal, wasn''t he?


    "She is," said Eitrigg. Why did he have that faraway look in his eye?


    "Prince Aris really caught a wild one this time," said Ensor. Why did everyone have such a faraway look in their eye?


    "This time?" asked William, speaking for the first time.


    "Well, he''s a Prince," said Ensor. "He may not be married, but he has his entertainments. We all do, really, but he has many of them. I heard once that he took three to his bed. The man has serious endurance."


    "Well, he''s going to marry her, so I hope he will curb his passions," said William, liking Aris less and less by the moment.


    "Maybe he will," said Soren. "He''s nearing forty."


    "Yeah," said Ensor, "Aris might settle for one of the best instead of half a dozen." He seemed to think he had said something funny. There was dead silence.


    Don''t cut his head off. Don''t cut his head off. "I don''t-" began William.


    And then there was a strange sound. It was a sort of ''thumps." It resounded through the room and grew louder and louder. William listened keenly.


    "What is that noise?" asked Eitrigg. "Are those wings?"


    Wings. What kind of wing made that noise? Dragons?


    Felix scrambled suddenly to the window and threw it open. He stared out at the sky, and William came behind him. There, flying over the island, were many flights of huge winged rodents. Each one carried a massive basket beneath them. There were men within the baskets. Soon the flights broke off to each fly toward a different settlement.


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    "Neseriah!" cried Felix. "The bats of Neseriah are here!"


    Felix sounded afraid. And if Felix was showing fear, it meant nothing good. Eitrigg turned to the others. "Ensor, Soren, rally the militia and send word. Man, the walls and get all you''re fighting men ready for combat. And someone has to tell your father that the Calishans are invading by air."


    At once, they nodded and broke off. Eitrigg commanded a great deal of respect in these parts to be obeyed so quickly. William looked to Felix. "Felix, help me get my armor on. We need to be ready."


    As Felix helped William put on his armor, he watched through the window. In the street, he saw men scurrying with spears and shields. Some were donning their armor. Others were carrying arrows to the walls. The ringing of bells was everywhere, and theirs was not the only village.


    From that second-story window, William saw the bats fly over the capital of Estal. Arrows were launched at them. Some fell, and when they landed, great fire explosions burst into view above the walls. Fires started in the city. Other bats were not hit, and these had men in the baskets hurl caskets down that exploded with the same force.


    A similar scene was happening throughout the villages. The bats that unloaded their lethal cargo swerved away to land beyond sight.


    After he finished donning his armor, William put on his helm and rushed out into the street. As he did, he saw the bats coming toward the village. The same caskets were hurled, but Eitrigg clasped his hands in prayer and spoke a word.


    William couldn''t make the word out, but he felt hope and determination well within his heart. A great sphere appeared around Eitrigg and grew larger and larger. Soon it encompassed the entire town. The caskets hit it and exploded into flame, the sparks going out in moments.


    The bats shrieked in anger and wheeled around to fly away. They hadn''t dropped as many caskets as the others had. Instead, they were keeping them in reserve. They were clearly intelligent.


    William stared at Eitrigg. "How did you do that?"


    "A spell I learned from King Andoa," said Eitrigg. "My power pales in comparison to his, of course. But I''ll teach it to you later. Now come to the walls. The Calishans will be marching against the town soon." He looked very tired. William was afraid he wouldn''t be able to do that again.


    He looked to a group of people looking terrified. "You folk, don''t just stand around," said Eitrigg. "Form the fire brigade and prepare to put out any flames that the bats cause. Go quickly and prioritize the granary."


    "Prioritize?" asked a woman.


    "Focus on the granary!" said Eitrigg. "Go! Every moment counts!


    William looked at Felix. "Come on."


    William suddenly realized what was happening. He was about to fight in his first battle. He knew he should feel eager or scared, but nothing came to him.


    He didn''t have time for this right now.


    He reached the gate and found Ensor yelling commands as the militia assembled into a group by the gate. Soren was standing on the gate with the archers, and with him was a tall, brown-bearded man. When a call came in, he approached Ensor. The archers were launching their missiles.


    William ran quickly up the wall and looked out over the fields. There a large force of Calishans had assembled. Several hundred in number, he guessed. They were approaching the gate and had raised shields into a tortoise formation. Arrows bristled from many of the shields as they approached.


    He looked to Soren and the man. A soldier approached them. "Lord Asborn, the Calishan formation is too strong for us to break with arrows."


    "They are more skilled than most," said Asborn. "No matter. They have no siege equipment. We need only hold them here."


    "Lord Asborn," said William.


    "Yes?" asked Asborn. "Who are you?"


    "I am William Gabriel, the son of Azgora," said William. "I wish to join your warriors in the front."


    "Very well," said Asborn. "Every bit helps. You, get this man a spear. Yet who is this Calishan?"


    "He is my servant," said William. "I trust him with my life."


    "Well, you can get him off my walls," said Asborn. "Your mother has a way with drilling troops, but I don''t like any of those Calishans."


    "Felix, you''d best head down to the streets," said William as he received a spear. "We don''t want trouble." He was not in a position to correct this man''s ignorance.


    Felix nodded, and they made their way down the steps. There, they found Ensor standing before his men in full armor. "Listen to me, all of you!


    "The Calishans are right outside this gate! If they break through, it''ll be up to us to stop them! And if we don''t stop them, they''ll kill every man! Your woman will be their slaves, and your children will be thrown to the wolves! And if any man flees from battle and we are victorious, I''ll have him hung, drawn, and quartered as a deserter!


    "Do you understand?"


    "Yes, milord!" came the reply in unison.


    William approached Ensor with his spear. "Permission to join the ranks?"


    "Just take a damn position and stop wasting my time, you idiot!" said Ensor quickly.


    "Right," said William. It had been a foolish question.


    Then they heard the chanting. "Calisha! Calisha! Calisha! Calisha!"


    On and on it went, getting louder and louder. And as the chanting continued, more bats dived and dropped caskets. They landed amidst the streets and exploded. The fire brigade was soon put to work.


    William quickly took his place in the line. He picked a spot next to Ensor at the right of the line. It seemed only appropriate since he was nobility. As one, they locked their shields and lowered their spears toward the gate. The chanting grew ever nearer.


    This was it, William''s first battle. He''d seen small skirmishes before. But he''d never faced the real thing, the clash of entire armies. He shifted and licked his lips, trying to quell his anticipation. He should be scared. But it could hardly be worse than anything he''d seen already. And he could win true glory here.


    "Calisha! Calisha! Calisha! Calisha!"


    And then the gate exploded. The entire wall shuddered as stones were thrown into the air. The shock of it nearly knocked William from his feet. Several other men were thrown and had to be helped up. A single Calishan sorcerer stood there, a blade in hand.


    And past him came the assembled ranks of the Calishans. They formed up with astonishing speed. Their shields were raised, and their spears were lowered. They charged forward, and battles were joined.


    William caught a spear on his shield and stabbed at the man across from him. His spear glanced off the side of the helm and had to block another stab. William lunged again, and this time, he got the man in the shoulder. His enemy screamed and fell backward, yet he was dragged back. Another took his place.


    William saw Ensor put his spear through the eye of a Calishan to his right. To his left, one of his militia fell to the ground, a spear in his gut. The next man in line nearly tripped over him, and he lay screaming on the ground as the battle went on. Stones were cast down from above onto the Calishans. But those in the rear lines had raised their shields to ward off such attacks.


    Quicklime might have worked. But there had been no time.


    As William fought, he found his mind drifting. How was it that they had broken the gate so easily? Even Rusara would have had trouble destroying a city gate. Unless she had...


    Malas.


    The very substance on which Father had based his truce was now being used against them.


    Suddenly, there was an explosion in the middle of the line. Men were sent flying, and William saw a leg land near him. The formation was scattered and broken. In a moment, the Calishans would charge, and they would be lost!


    Then a shield of blue light appeared before the Calishans. It barred their path. They beat on it, trying to force it down. It began to flicker and fade. But it was enough time for Ensor to rally his forces. The formation was recreated. William took the chance to kneel by the injured man he''d seen before and healed him. Then he took his place.


    The shield was breaking. But before it could break entirely, its center opened up. The Calishans there pressed forward through the breach ahead of their comrades.


    "Charge!" cried Ensor.


    The militia surged forward, and the shield wall broke. But too late for the enemy! The Calishans had lost their formation in their haste. Arrows and stones shot down on them, and many fell. Then they were forced backward by the charge.


    And yet they were bolstered, for new troops came forward. They were huge and wielded great scimitars. As they marched, their very presence sent a ripple through the lines. The Calishans roared battle-cries and fought like mad. Once again, they changed the name of their nation.


    One of the figures came to the front of the line. As he emerged from the shadow of the gatehouse, the line nearly broke. He had the face of a tiger, and his hands were clawed. His armor was as white as snow, with eyes that blazed with gray flame.


    "Immortals!" cried one of the men. "Calishan Immortals are here!"


    The Immortals sprang forward into the line, leaping over the spears to land among the men. Many fell headless beneath the strikes of their scimitars. William saw one surging toward him and raised his shield. The blow sent him to his knees, but he stabbed upward. He felt his spear pierce something and looked up to see that he had gotten the immortal through the gut.


    He nearly lost his head, avoiding the next stroke. His spear was broken, and the immortal came at him. Drawing his sword, William parried. Lashing out with his shield, he bashed the immortal with the edge, and as it fell back, he delivered a blow to its neck. The beast dropped to one knee, spurting blood, and drove its scimitar into his side.


    William screamed in agony but brought around his blade for a final swing. It cut the head from the creature. Then he fell to one knee, pulled out the scimitar, and set about healing it. But the wound kept bleeding, and it was knitting very slowly. Some magic within the sword worked against his skills, fighting him for every inch of health. The pain was gone.


    Looking around, he saw the battle had devolved from stalemate into a vicious melee. And they were losing. The men on the walls had taken up swords and spears and come to help, but it was only slowing things down. The immortals were everywhere and nowhere, killing at will.


    The men of Estal fought on and caused much harm to the enemy. But the enemy was just as desperate. Never in history had an immortal retreated in the face of the enemy. Nor did they suffer their minions to retreat.


    The village would fall.


    And then Massacre arrived. She leaped through the ruins of the gate, breathing fire into the midsts of the Calishans. Tightly packed as they were, dozens in the back ranks screamed as they were burnt alive. An immortal rushed against her, but she stepped aside from her thrust. Then, her goat head drove its horns into the immortal''s stomach. Even as the creature fell, her paws and lion heads savaged him. And all the while fire was poured into the enemy ranks. Dozens of Calishans screamed as flames burned their bodies.


    It was the last straw. The immortals were slain, and the men of Calisha fled.


    Cheers came from the men as William finished healing himself. But they quickly fell quiet. The field was littered with dying and dead men. Screams and groans from the wounded were everywhere.


    The Calishans were escaping. But they could not pursue it, not like this.


    William forced himself to stand and began to walk among the wounded. He healed all he could. However, he quickly learned that those struck by immortals took far too much effort to heal. Small cuts resisted his efforts and took immense work to fix. Eventually, he settled on healing ordinary wounds, hoping the others would last. There was no shortage of either.


    He also healed the Calishans. While working on them, he saw Ensor raising a spear to stab one of them where he lay.


    "Ensor, stop what you are doing!" called Eitrigg, appearing.


    "He''s a filthy Calishan!" said Ensor.


    "He''s a prisoner of war," said Eitrigg. "We should take their weapons and bind them."


    "Do as he says, Ensor," said Asborn, appearing. "I don''t like the Calishans anymore than you. But they may be worth a ransom. We''ll need the money to repair the buildings they burned. They nearly got the granary."


    "You handle the ordinary wounds, William," said Eitrigg. "I will take those wounded by immortals."


    The work took hours. And many died despite their efforts. Even so, William saved many and did not regret his presence. It was a small victory, but still a victory.


    Later, as William looked at the face of his last patient, one he hadn''t been able to save, he sighed. He heard a conversation from Ensor, who was speaking to Soren. "This was a damn, narrow thing. If that Azgora broad hadn''t forced us to drill during the Feast of the Hearth, we''d all be dead."


    Fury welled up in him, and he reached for his sword, only to stop. There was no sense in challenging him. Enso might have been deeply unpleasant, but without him, the town might have been ashes.


    William looked at one of the blackened structures. Felix and Eitrigg picked their way through the wreckage toward him. It already was ashes, wasn''t it?


    And then he heard the beating of wings. Looking up, he saw a figure. Yet it was not a bat. It had a bat''s wings, though. At first, he thought it was Arraxia. But the claws were smaller, and there was no tail. In their hand was a black staff.


    "That is Neseriah," said Felix.


    "She''s flying directly toward the mountain of the Cyclopi," said Eitrigg. "It seems you are not the only one to have this idea."


    Massacre approached and nuzzled William. It might have been comforting, but she was covered in blood and guts. William pulled some torn entrails off her face and scratched behind her ears to calm her. "Massacre, I need you to take Felix and me to the cyclopi at once. If we''re not fast, we may be fighting a war on two fronts."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    "Yes, I will play music for you," said William.


    He and Felix got onto Massacre, and the chimera rushed off. She ran with great strides, covering vast distances with every bound. The figure of Neseriah eventually dove down and disappeared from sight. Higher and higher on the mountain they went. Then Felix tapped him on the should.


    "Look there, William," he said, pointing downhill. "The villages are burning."


    William did look. And he saw that the battle they had just fought was only one of many. Many Calishan hosts were marching against many villages. Several had already been burned to ash, and from these, the Calishans were marching to aid the others. Yet some communities, such as Asborn''s, had held out. These sent their militia to help the others.


    All-out war had begun.


    Before the night was out, there would be many smaller battles. Victories and defeats. And yet, this was only the beginning, wasn''t it?


    "I hope Mother is among them," said William. "If anyone can lead them to victory, it is her. Come, we must reach the Cyclopi. Go Massacre! Get us to King Themos!"


    Massacre ran with even greater speed. And as she did, William felt a sudden surge of pride. He had fought in his first battle. He had emerged victorious. He had killed a Calishan immortal.


    Mother would be proud.

 Chapter 360 - Twenty-Two: Negotiations and Shadows

    By the time they came within sight of the Cylcopi wall, the trees had hidden the fires. As they went into the clearing, they found many bats perched upon the walls. The cyclopi seemed to be speaking with them.


    As Massacre came forward, Kronel greeted them. "Sir William, we were not expecting you. What business has brought you to our domain?"


    "I wish to speak to the King," said William. "I desire to arrange an alliance against Calisha. Or at the very least ensure that our peoples do not march to war against one another again." He eyed the bats warily.


    "You are the second creature to come before us with that as your intention," said Kronel. "One of you will be disappointed. Yet that is King Themos'' affair. Open the gates. Let him in.


    "We''ll hear the King''s mind soon enough."


    The gate was hauled open. William dismounted from Massacre, and he and Felix walked through. They were led to the cave and once more stepped into it. Within the throne room, they found King Themos waiting. He was clad for war now, and a colossal mace was laid next to his throne. His one eye gazed at William carefully.


    "William Gabriel, you return. I am glad to see that you still breathe," said Themos. "Yet if I have guessed your purpose here, I fear you have wasted a trip."


    "Not all fears are founded, King Themos," said William. "I have come from a battle with the Calishans, where we have already scored a great victory."


    "Victory?" laughed a harsh voice. I wonder, has the word changed its meaning since last I heard Harlenorian?" It was speaking in a language he did not understand, yet the meaning came to him plainly. A Cyclops standing next to Themos whispered something in the King''s ear.


    Into the room walked Neseriah. She was far more horrible up close. She was like a cross between a human and a bat; her hands had long nails. On her arms were two great bat wings.


    "Princess Neseriah, you have something to say at last?" said Themos.


    "I do indeed," said Neseriah. "However, I wished to say it before the emissaries of Harlenor. Hear this, Skull Mask. Your villages are in flames. Your pathetic militia is routed, and your knights are far from here."


    "The battle has not gone as you think, Neseriah," said William. "Calishan Immortals lie dead upon the soil of Estal. And with them, many of your soldiers."


    "Ah, but I have many more of those," said Neseriah. "And Immortals are gifted. They will reincarnate with all their memories in another eighteen years. Then they shall fight for me again. Yet those militias who have been slaughtered shall not be so easily replaced. Your gates and walls have failed.


    "Even as we speak, I sense more of my warriors mustering, fresh from victory. They march upon that little town you rallied. It will fall soon. And all who live within it shall be put to the sword: every man, woman, and child.


    "Those who escape my wrath will flee into the city. There, they will be safe for a time until my brothers arrive. Then they will land, and the full might of Calisha will fall upon you. And none may stand against the might of Baltoth."


    "Strange," said William. "I thought the power of your bloodline was the ability to wield the shadows. Yet you seem to have learned to see the future. Or so I assume. The children of Baltoth are not known for their hubris." That was a lie.


    "It is not hubris to read the signs," said Neseriah. "Harlenor is far away and distracted. Estal is the aggressor and has violated our truce on the day it was signed. My delicate sister is a captive of Aris, so right is on our side. And our armies are vast beyond number.


    "What you have seen thus far is but a taste of the power of Calisha. Soon, she might be let loose in flood to wash away all who would oppose us.


    "Still, I will not deny that you may be of some irritation. Thus, I will say what I came to say." And she turned to King Themos. "Hear me, King Themos. Calisha does not quarrel with you. Your people had no part in the kidnapping of my sister. Nor have you ever broken a treaty with us. And yet, for a long time, you have had wars with your neighbor, Estal.


    "Would it not be better to be rid of them? Join your forces with Calisha. It is we who are wronged, we who have been betrayed. Do so, and the rewards will be great, for we will need someone to rule this island in the name of Baltoth. Why shouldn''t it be you? You who dwelled here long before these humans ever did?


    "Or, if you do not want to join us, just stay your hand. Let us finish our business with Estal, and do not waste your people in a needless war. I am certain my brother, Suloth, will be happy to leave your lands in peace when we finish. And no honorable man could fault you for not aiding these bandits.


    "They speak of honor while they kidnap other men''s wives. They boast of valorous deeds performed. Yet these deeds are not those of heroes but of raiders and plunderers. They fall on villages that cannot defend themselves and kill without mercy. Priestesses were raped within the bounds of their own gods'' temples and dragged away in chains.


    "These warriors are but pretenders. They fight for no one''s benefit but their own. Aid them, and they shall declare eternal friendship. Then they will turn upon you before the wax on your treaty has dried."


    Themos heard these words. For a moment, he remained silent as they were told to him. Then he turned to William. "What say you, Sir William?"


    William considered his answer. He''d have to spin this somehow. "Some men say that one Harlenorian is worth ten Calishans upon the battlefield. Yet I know this to be wrong. I have seen the valor of Calishans on the battlefield. I have watched as men clad only in leather with spears held their ground against armored knights. They fought bravely and brought glory to their families and nation.


    "When taken hostage, they were allowed to keep their arms and go in peace back to their own land as a mark of respect. I have seen great deeds performed by both Calishan and Harlenorian. I will not pretend that we Harlenorians are any greater warriors.


    "Nor may I claim our cause wholly just. The kidnapping of Safara, though she came of her own will, was a deed of supreme dishonor. The shame of it rests upon Estal. Indeed, where Cassandra was taken for the sake of peace, Safara was taken for war.


    "Yet I ask you, what part in that dishonor did the villages in the shadow of your mountain play? What choice did the children trapped in burning houses have in the decisions of their Prince? Emissary Emira has yet to have the chance to speak two words. And yet Neseriah had already mobilized. Let alone carry the reply of King Estal back to Emperor Baltoth.


    If we had given time to let tempers cool, King Estal could have been convinced to give up his son''s prize.


    "Yet now that will never happen. There will be much more blood and death before the end of this war. You have repaid the courtesy of Harlenor with vicious slaughter. You have put to the flame the houses of the innocent and butchered the people of this land." William thought his words were entirely hollow. But he was obligated to pretend they weren''t.


    "Only a fool does not have a plan to deal with his enemies," said Neseriah. "We had been preparing ourselves to invade Estal when their offer of peace was made. Thus, we put aside our plans for the sake of it and resumed them when we were betrayed.


    "As for butchery, what have we done that Argath Marn and his entourage have not done so much more willingly? It is the way of war that sides prey on their weakest enemies first.


    "Yet this is beside the point. What do you propose, Sir William? That King Themos join his enemies in repelling a nation he has never had to fight? What reward will you promise him? And of what worth is any promise now made by Estal?"


    "Neseriah speaks well," said Themos after his translator had finished speaking. What do you propose, Sir William?"


    He had to turn Themos against the Calishans. Or at least make him distrust them. "First, let me say that you have never been enemies with Calisha. Because Calisha has never possessed Estal," said William. "Had a Calishan Prince colonized it, and not the young brother of King Andoa, things would be different. I do not doubt that there would have been war. It is a way for neighbors to fight with one another.


    "Yet consider this: Calisha is far greater in power than Estal. If King Estal today were to send all his armies against your people, you won. Yet if Baltoth were to seize this island and unleash his armies against you, you would be hemmed in. An island of freedom in a sea of tyranny.


    "And you would inevitably fall.


    "Baltoth does not fear any nation by itself. But many nations together? That he does fear.


    "Calisha is not so invincible as they claim. Upon the banks of the river, Savior''s Run, my father defeated a vast host of Calishans. And before that on the shores of Desora, he destroyed a Calishan army as it landed.


    "Each time, Calisha drew back its hand. Each time, they negotiated rather than fall.


    "No army is invincible. No nation is beyond defeat. If the Cyclopi march to war against Calisha alongside the men of Estal, we may gain a great victory. If Calisha is defeated badly enough, they will seek terms. And when they do, we may find a way to settle the debt of honor without the need for such bloodletting.


    "Join us, King Themos. Prove to the world the might of the Cyclopi. In so doing, you will solidify the friendship between Estal and the Cyclopi. For there is a saying that blood spilled is thicker than wine poured. In the fires of war, great friendships may be founded. One may be forged between Estal and your people and, in so doing, the future secured." He was lying through his teeth now. When the war was over, things would probably go right back the way they were. But it was his duty.


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    "Baltoth fears nothing, Skull Mask. Remember the fact," said Neseriah.


    Themos remained silent. "...You both speak well. Yet I will not make any decision in haste. I must observe and consider the situation. For now, I must offer you what hospitality I can."


    Oh, good. The Cyclopi would remain neutral. They might actually make it out of this war alive. "I fear I cannot accept it, King Themos," said William, bowing his head. I must return to the front. I fear the battle will be bloody."


    "Then go in peace," said Themos with a wave of his hand. An ironic farewell if ever there had been one.


    So they began the journey back to the villages. As they walked alongside Massacre, darkness came on. William looked to Felix, who was silent.


    "What do you think, Felix?" he asked.


    "Themos is going to wait until he thinks he knows which side is winning," Felix decided. "Then he''ll jump in and finish the job."


    "That was my assessment as well," mused William. "Which means we have to win as many victories as we can as quickly as possible."


    "We''re doomed, you know that," said Felix.


    "I know," said William.


    Felix wasn''t going to let it end at that. "Baltoth humored Duke Vanion because it was a friendly rivalry. His people were treated with the utmost respect, and Baltoth got something out of the deal. This is a personal vendetta and a betrayal. He will keep coming until he, or Estal, is dead."


    "I know!" said William.


    "Then why are you trying to get the Cyclopi to help?" asked Felix.


    "It is my duty," said William. "If the Cyclopi assist us, we may be able to stall Calisha. At least long enough to get the other Harlenorian Kingdoms involved."


    "You''ll tear up everything your father worked for," said Felix, voice cold.


    "Aris teared up everything Father worked for!" said William as he turned on them. "Not me!" He realized he was shouting, hearing his echo. He took several deep breaths. "Estal is of strategic importance. I can''t let Baltoth take it. Not without doing everything I can to stop him."


    "Well, as long as you don''t think you''re the hero in this story," said Felix. "Do as you like?"


    "And who is the hero, then?" asked William.


    Felix shrugged. "Haven''t you learned anything? There are no heroes."


    They kept walking. Eventually, William looked to his bloodstained chimera. "What do you think about Massacre?"


    Massacre took a bite out of some thornbushes. "Bah."


    "Yes, I thought you''d say that," mused William.


    They journeyed in silence. When, at last, they came within sight of the villages, most of the fires had been put out. There were still some smoking ruins, but William could see nothing in the darkness. As they neared the town they had set out, they found Eitrigg.


    The priest was sitting against the gatehouse, meditating. As soon as they reached him, he opened his eyes and stood. "William, thank Elranor. You''ve returned. Were you successful?"


    "King Themos has decided to ponder the matter," said William. "I take this to mean that he will wait to see how the war is going before committing his forces. What is our situation?"


    "We''ve had refugees fleeing into this town from all over," said Eitrigg. "Several villages fell in the initial onslaught. The Calishans went out of their way to kill everyone they could lay hands on. No prisoners or slaves taken.


    "I''ve been hard-pressed to convince the men not to execute prisoners. Still, we''ve beaten them in several battles. And stalemated them in several others."


    "Any news from my mother?" asked William.


    "The Lady Azgora destroyed several companies of Calishan soldiers," said Eitrigg.


    "Then her militia training was not wasted," said William.


    "No, she destroyed several companies by herself," said Eitrigg. "She left the militia in reserve. We''ve found her standing over a field of corpses."


    William blinked in surprise. "Where is she now?"


    "The last word was that she was trying to gather some of the forces which were put to flight," said Eitrigg. "Word has been sent across the bridge. The city is in flames, or so men say. Some say it has been burned to the ground. However, I suspect these are an exaggeration."


    "Have any reinforcements come from the city?" asked William.


    "None," said Eitrigg. "The Calishans dropped a large force of Immortals into the city itself. They are fighting with the guards. We have been ordered to hold our position as long as possible."


    "Then that is what we''ll have to do," said William. "Did you manage to save the granary?"


    "Yes," said Eitrigg. "But several other villagers lost their food supplies to fire. There will be great hunger in the coming years."


    "Oh, don''t worry," said Felix with a smile. "I''m sure my countrymen will kill so many people that you won''t even notice the difference."


    William looked at him. "That wasn''t funny, Felix."


    "It doesn''t make it any less true," said Felix. "This is the Calishan vanguard. What do you think the main army will do when it arrives?"


    "Our main army isn''t here yet," said William.


    Then, his eye fell on the bodies of Calishans. They had been laid out in great numbers. It looked as if the lord, what was his name, was building a great pyre to burn all the dead. Yet all the wood hadn''t been gathered yet. He looked at the faces. They were far darker than those who had fought at the battle of Savior''s Run. They were also taller and more muscular.


    "Eitrigg, who are these men?" asked William. "Some among them are Drens; I know that much. But others have a slant to their eyes that I don''t recognize."


    "Calishans," said Eitrigg.


    "There are more than one kind of Calishan, Eitrigg," said William. "There are many different racial stocks. We''re all from Harlenor. But I''m a Haldrenian with Escorian blood. You''re an Estalian, descended from the men of Antion.


    "It is the same with Calishans."


    "Actually, my father came here from Escor," said Eitrigg. But regarding your question, I don''t know."


    "These aren''t my sort, the Medi. They''re far easterners," said Felix, coming forward. "Narsuf, I think, a crossbreed between Drens and the Namineans who used to rule them. That was before Neseriah took the land out of their domain. Of course, that was long after Namina itself sank into the sea.


    "Baltoth took Narsuf for it''s Malas."


    "Malas?" asked William. "I thought Artarq was the only source."


    "It is," said Felix. "We overmined it while seeking to conquer our neighbors and put down rebellions. Malas does restore itself over time, but only if there is enough of it to reproduce. So we''ve had to find alternative sources, thus the importance of Artarq."


    Then, there was the sound of beating wings. William looked up to see the great bats flying away. Their baskets were still in their claws. "The bats are leaving," he murmured. "But what about the Calishans still here?"


    "Neseriah cares little for the lives of mortals," said Felix. "They are expendable. They aimed to sew discord and disrupt our defenses in preparation for the main thrust. When Baltoth lands his main fleet here, the outer fortifications will be in chaos.


    "I expect the remaining Narsuf will begin a guerilla campaign. Strike exposed targets. Their only hope of survival is to hold out long enough for the main fleet to arrive." S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "So they''ve been sent to die," guessed William.


    "What are soldiers for if not to die for their nation?" asked Felix.


    "To make the enemy die for theirs," said William.


    "... I''ll concede the point," said Felix.


    Then, one of the bats took a spear through the chest and staggered down to the ground. Another soon fell beside it. The bats scattered and flew faster as spear after spear pierced them. Nearly half a dozen fell to the ground dead before they were clear.


    "Who could throw a spear like that?" asked Eitrigg.


    "Mother could," said William. "Apparently, spear-throwing contests are held where she is from. It''s a sport. Father won a prize at it once."


    Eitrigg blinked. "What was the story behind that?"


    "There were several, actually," said William. "Mother''s land of Themious is a Matriarchy, where the women have divine blood. Ment there are not warriors because of physical inferiority. Father, having been raised in a warrior culture, was somewhat eccentric.


    "Mother and he went on several adventures together."


    "Thus the hydra?" asked Eitrigg.


    "Yes," said William. "When one cut off one of its heads, two more grew in place. Mother cut off the heads, and Father burned the stumps with a fire. Then, there was also a boar whose hide was immune to weapons and could not be stopped. Father lured it into a pit trap filled with oil, and once it fell into it, he lit it on fire. The smoke and flame choked it to death.


    "And, of course, there was a giant of steel who sought to overthrow the gods of Themious. They started an avalanche to trap them in plus, then cut off his head when he was trapped in place. During that time, they fell in love, and when Father left, Lady Azgora went with him."


    "That''s quite an impressive story," said Eitrigg.


    "It''s only the barest of summaries," said William. "And I haven''t even touched on Serecula, the Queen of Spiran." Then he looked to Felix. "Felix, I need to ask you something to one side."


    The two walked out of earshot. "Yes, what is it?" asked Felix.


    "Why didn''t Baltoth use those bats against us at Artarq?" William asked. He could have easily crossed the river without fear of an ambush."


    "The bats answer only to Neseriah," said Felix. "Banir was a subordinate king to Suloth. The children of Baltoth rarely unite for anything. Aris has managed to get Baltoth angry. A feat I wasn''t sure was possible anymore."


    "Anymore?" asked William.


    "Well, he hasn''t exactly gone into any bloody rages¡ªnot on any records, at any rate," said Felix. "Most of the day-to-day affairs of Calisha are minded by the Kings. Suloth is the one who provides most of the leadership for them."


    "What could occupy Baltoth if not the affairs of his own nation?" asked William.


    Felix shrugged and smiled. "Who am I to know the private affairs of Baltoth?" Then he laughed.


    "What''s funny?" asked William.


    "You expect too much of me, William," said Felix. "I haven''t been home in years."


    "Right. Of course," said William. "Do you ever miss it?"


    "Sometimes. I was from the area around Ruscow," said Felix. "Mother kept a garden and had servants to help her with it. However, she didn''t need it. We could buy whatever we needed.


    "Perhaps that was a warning sign."


    William paused. Something about the whole thing was bothering him. "Felix, this may sound callous, but do you know how Baltoth learned your father was skimming off the top?"


    Felix looked at him warily. "Baltoth has eyes everywhere. I expect someone saw something which incriminated him."


    "I see," said William, looking away.


    "Is something wrong?" asked Felix.


    "Something has been bothering me for a long time, Felix," said William. "Father praised King Banir''s skill and valor. Yet Baltoth saw through it and had him killed."


    "It would not take much to observe that man''s incompetence," said Felix.


    "Yes, that was what I thought," said William. "But then, in Khasmir, Calisha sent an army there very quickly. Almost too quickly."


    "He probably had already mobilized his forces ahead of time," said Felix. "Banir was meant as a vanguard."


    "Logical," said William. "But now this. Baltoth knew that Aris meant to march to war. How could he have known that we were stalling Emira? And if he didn''t intend to negotiate, why would he have sent her at all?"


    "Emira was here to give an ultimatum," said Felix. "I''m certain she has means to send word from her post here."


    "Baltoth seems far too well informed," mused William.


    "He is a god," said Felix. "It is his business."


    "King Estal is here!" cried the lookout. "King Estal has come!"


    Well, it was time to report his partial success.

 Chapter 361 - Twenty-Three: Ultimatum

    King Estal entered the village at the head of an army. He went clad in gray armor and held a spear in one hand. Behind the gray armored host, they were dragging a large force of Calishans. They were bound at the wrists and numbers a hundred at least.


    Asborn and his sons went to meet him. They kneeled in fealty. "King Estal. Victory is ours."


    "So I have heard," said King Estal. "Estal owes much to the brave militia. We were delayed, for the bats of Neseriah dropped hundreds of Immortals into the midsts of our city. They sought to set fire to the grain stores and kill all they could lay hands on.


    "We were hard put to it. But this old man''s father was a Prince of Antion." He fingered the haft of his sword, then looked to the slaves. "These are those captured. We have brought them to aid in the repair of your fortifications. See to it that they live."


    "I will do so," said Asborn. "Then we''ll have someone to ransom."


    "More than that," said Estal, "it is the will of Princess Safara that all prisoners be treated with respect. We should have executed them if not for her."


    They should have executed them, reflected William. This kind of attack was pure barbarism, and the Calishans had taken no prisoners. Their bodies should have been hanging from the walls. And yet everyone, men and women who had hated Calishans from birth, was doing as Safara willed.


    Even though she wasn''t there to will it, how far did Safara''s reach extend?


    "Now I have need of one of your sons," said Estal. "Aris'' fleet has been seen approaching the shore. I wish to meet him there. His forces should be enough to route anyone else."


    "I have been told that Lady Azgora has already half routed them herself," said Asborn. "Ensor will go with you. He''s had his first battle today and killed three Calishans."


    William hurried forward, Massacre padding behind him. Estal looked up. "Ah, Sir William. Though I suppose I haven''t had the chance to make the title formal. I see you''ve had your share of battle."


    William looked at his skull armor and realized it was covered in blood. He must have looked terrifying, like the visage of death itself. "Yes, I have."


    "More than that," said Ensor. "I saw him kill a Calishan Immortal. And his pet chimera turned the tide."


    William was surprised Ensor was singing his praises. Given how they had met, he hadn''t been expecting it. "Massacre isn''t my pet. She is my friend," He paused. "King Estal in regards to my mission. The Cyclopi are still considering their options. I believe that if we can win more victories, King Themos may come in on our side.


    "If we cannot, he may remain neutral. Or worse, take the side of the Calishans."


    "Well, it is much to ask for his assistance so soon," said Estal before approaching Massacre. The lion head eyed Estal warily, but Estal reached forward without fear. He scratched her behind the ears. "You are a mighty beast, indeed. May I ask you a favor?


    "Could you stay here and watch over these prisoners. Ensure nothing goes wrong with the repair of this place."


    "Bah," said Massacre.


    Estal looked at William. "What does she say?"


    "Massacre says she will do no such thing," said William. How had Estal known Massacre was a girl? William hadn''t figured it out until Kiyora had told him. "With your permission, King Estal, I wish to go with you and see the fleet myself."


    "Of course," said Estal. "It is a shame I have not been able to formally knight you. You have more than proved yourself." He looked around. "Perhaps I shall make a festival for this victory." S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "There is little to celebrate," said William.


    "Yes," agreed Estal. "Not today, at any rate. This is indeed a grim victory. But in a few years, men will drink toasts to the valiant defense of Estal. And the fleet may bring good news, heralding the end of the war. It may be that the Calishan fleets have already been defeated."


    "One can only hope," said William. But he did not hope. Not for a moment.


    "Come," said Estal, "we will take a small party and go to the shore."


    Thus they set out for the shore. As they walked, they passed several burned-out villages. Here, men were busy burying the dead. Others were picking through the ruins, trying to salvage anything of use. Estal looked on grimly but said nothing.


    "Calishan pigs," hissed Ensor. "I used to drink there."


    William realized that the burned-out ruins of one building must have been a tavern at one point. He could make out many charred corpses within. Beyond, they came across a large group of Calishans who were bound and forced to kneel in a row just past it. Above them were many armored knights of Estal, who placed blades to the back of their necks.


    Mother was standing there by them. Estal came forward. "Lady Azgora. Who are these men who are being executed?"


    "Calishans," said Mother. "Who else? They massacred everyone they could lay hands on than met up with their other forces. I gathered the militia and met them in battle. We drove them before us and killed all the Immortals. These are all that survive."


    A will was in the air. William almost felt as though loving coils surrounded him. He knew the others felt it as well from the way they changed¡ªall except Mother, who remained silent.


    "Let them up," said Estal. "We will force them to mend what they have broken?"


    William expected a cry of outrage. But no one said anything. Already the knights were removing their blades. And something told him this was right. Better to have mercy. Then he saw Mother, who looked at him flatly. Just like that, the coils seemed to fall away.


    "Can they restore the dead to life?" asked William. "Can they feed those who will go hungry? We have already spared many. But if all are taken prisoner, what retribution will those who raid you in the future fear?"


    "You would have us seek revenge, then?" said Estal.


    "If Calisha thinks they can draw back their hand after striking you, why should they fear to lose it," said William. "We must win this war. But we must also make the Calishans regret forcing us into it."


    "And what would you have us do?" asked Estal.


    William hesitated. The coils gripped him again, demanding he have mercy. Let them go. Yet Mother''s gaze was on him. He felt like he was being crushed between two wills. "Put all the Calishans to work with the exception of the nobles. All of the nobles will be rounded up and executed."


    "Why should we do that?" asked Estal, looking at him.


    "The custom," said William, "is, of course, to ransom those who are most valuable. If someone must be executed, then it is better to execute the commoners. By killing the nobles, we send a message. It will terrify all future raiders. Anyone who considers acting in this fashion will know that their title will not protect them.


    "Nobles are the ones'' who fund these sorts of expeditions they will be much less keen to invade."


    The coils tightened. William could hardly breathe. But he felt as though everyone else was straining against them. Eventually, Estal looked away. "Put the prisoners with the rest. I shall consult Aris on what happens next. The shore awaits."


    Oh, wonderful. The matter would be put up to Aris'' legendary judgment. Mother turned to the troops. "Let them up. We''ll put them to work repairing some of the fortifications."


    The rest of the journey was silent. William felt anger in the back of his mind. It was like the anger of a lover who has lost their spouse. What he felt was a deeply personal kind of anger. And it was directed at Azgora. No, Mother.


    When they came within sight of the wall, William was surprised. There were burning corpses in a pile there. Ensor whistled. "Well looks like the gate guards did their work well."


    "They attacked here, then?" asked William.


    "There was sore fighting here," said Mother. "However, we managed to relieve them before it fell. The enemy came in great numbers, and none survived."


    "Those fortifications are very formidable," said William. "How could a few hundred men take them?"


    "Look," said Mother, pointing with her spear.


    William did look at them. For a long moment, he didn''t get it. Then the obvious dawned. "Right, the wall was meant to keep people out, not in. The fortifications are no good on this side."


    King Estal had a pavilion set up on a hill and guards posted around it. Most of his entourage set themselves up there. As William came to the top of the hill, he looked past the wall and saw the fleet. For a moment, he was struck with awe.


    "So many ships?" asked Ensor. "Where did they all come from?"


    "Many of them are Calishan vessels," said Mother. "Aris and Tanith must have captured a great many."


    Even now, huge chests of valuables were being piled upon the shore. Lines of slaves were being led out into the shore. William looked to Mother. "I''m going to see if I can go greet Tanith."


    "Do as you like, my son," said Azgora.


    William and Felix made their way through the gate. They searched among the valuables being unloaded. Eventually, he saw Tanith leaping off a ship to land in the shallows to wade ashore. Thank Elranor, she was still alive.


    "Tanith, you''re back!" he called as he ran to her. He removed his helmet and held her close to him. "I''m glad you''re still drawing breath."


    "Drawing steel as well," said Tanith. "Well, we had one or two issues, but I''m well content with the bloodshed. We saw some bats carrying troops here. You kill any Calishans?"


    "Too many," admitted William. "They attacked the villages, and we were hard-pressed to hold them at bay. How did you fair?"


    Tanith stretched and looked skyward. "We destroyed a fleet of Calishans fleets in harbor using fireships, or most of one. A few got away. Then we met another fleet our own size in battle. We captured most of their vessels and killed every one of them.


    "Of course we were on our way back a larger one came after us. But we got bailed out by the serpent Jormungsk. The one who trapped us in the Iron Kingdom. So we rallied and burned that one to the waterline too."


    "Jormungsk?" asked William. "Why would he help you?"


    "Apparently King Byran sent him to help us out," said Tanith. "He doesn''t want the Calishans getting a foothold on Estal. It makes sense. Estal is too weak to invade Viokinar. But Calisha could do it in a heartbeat. Especially with all the fun, we had with Melchious.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "Anyway, we won and destroyed that fleet too."


    Tanith had been as horrified as he was in the Iron City. But now that the memory had grown distant, she called it fun. Something was wrong with her, and William found it strange he was only just realizing as much. "What happened then?" asked William, stepping back.


    "Well then, Aris ordered us to turn around and start raiding the Calishan shores." said Tanith. "But I convinced him it wasn''t a good idea to do it. The last thing I want is to go back to fighting like Argath Marn.


    "The man was a total coward who only went for easy targets who couldn''t defend themselves. And then he sold out as soon as he got back with false repentance. No glory in that. So I figured we ought to attack Calishan forts along the coast instead."


    "You laid siege to Baltoth''s own coast?" asked William.


    "Yep," said Tanith. "It was the last thing he expected and way more fun than sacking villages, to be honest. A lot more challenge fighting with other soldiers, and their deaths hurt Calisha more. We took three forts, stole a lot of plunder, and made a clean getaway. Aris thought it was way too aggressive, but it worked out pretty well.


    "Here he comes now."


    Aris was walking down the shore toward them, wearing armor. Esgroth was with him, and he was walking with a limp. Tanith went to meet him. "Aris, turns out we won on both fronts. They didn''t need our help."


    "As expected," said Aris. "I knew the Calishans could not hope to take Estal without overwhelming force."


    "That is little comfort to the people of Estal," said William, annoyed by his attitude.


    "All victory has a price," said Aris. "What damage did they do?"


    "Several villages were burned," said William. "The Calishans killed everyone they could. They also destroyed granaries. And burned fields." He paused. "I do hope your wedding will be a good one, Prince Aris."


    "Your tone is unappreciated, Gabriel," said Aris. "This is my land, and I will do so as I will within it.


    "Now, I will speak to my father at once. Esgroth, oversee the unloading of the ships. Tanith, come with me."


    "If I may, Prince Aris." said Esgroth. "There are a great many ships in our fleet¡ªmore than we can fit in the harbor. With your permission, I would like to keep some of them out at sea. If we send them all into harbor, they will be heavily clustered."


    "Just get the valuables unloaded," said Aris. "We''ll find a safer harbor for them one we''ve finished bringing in the goods. We''ll have a triumph in the city when we''re done."


    "I will escort you to King Estal, if you will it," said William.


    "I do," said Aris.


    He led him back to the pavilion and entered it. There, he found King Estal waiting with many courtiers. William bowed his head. "King Estal, your son is here."


    Aris came forward. Estal stood and embraced him. "My son, you have returned at last. How goes the battle?"


    "We have destroyed three Calishans fleets, Father," said Aris. "Those ships we did not destroy have bolstered our fleet. None escaped. And we have unleashed great destruction on them for their hubris."


    In the history of the universe, there had been many hypocritical statements. In William''s mind, Aris'' none could compare to that one.


    "I am glad," said Estal. "Great glory has been brought to Estal by your efforts. Yet we have also suffered a grievous blow. Several of our villages have been burned to the ground. If not for Lady Azgora and her son''s efforts, we should have been badly worsted."


    And then the tent flap parted, and Safara entered the room. Her red hair flowed about her like a river as she surged forward. Faster than anyone could react, she hugged Aris. "Aris!"


    Aris smiled and kissed her. "Safara, you came to meet me then."


    "I wished to see your return," said Safara. "Is it over?"


    Aris led Safara away, and they began to speak together. Cassandra entered behind her, clad in flowing while. Enso came up behind William and tapped him on the shoulder.


    "So that''s the woman all this was for?" whispered Ensor.


    "Yes," said William. "She is."


    "Who wouldn''t fight a war to keep her?" said Ensor.


    "Someone with more sense than me," muttered William.


    "Come, we must see to the succor of our people," said Estal quickly. "When what arrangements that can be made have been made, we will celebrate. We''ll tell the stories of our victories. They shall be told of these days for centuries to come, and my grandchildren will look upon it with pride. And your bride to be shall shine all the more radiantly for the sacrifice of the brave."


    "By your leave, Father, we have no time," said Cassandra. "We must send a message to Emperor Baltoth at once and sue for peace."


    "Even Baltoth will think twice before invading us again," said Aris. "We''ve all but won."


    This was too much. "Are all of Baltoth''s armies broken?" asked William. "Has his Empire fallen into the sea like the legendary continent of Namina? We must seek an end to this war while the victory is fresh in Baltoth''s mind."


    "Always you seek of peace, and never a victory," said Aris. "Are you afraid?"


    "I''m not fool if that''s what you''re asking," said William.


    "Enough!" said Estal. "We are all fresh from battle, and harsh words are seldom meant in that state. Both of you have proved your valor and will show due respect."


    "Father, I believe Sir Gabriel is correct," said Cassandra. "We must attempt to end this war. With the recent defeats, Baltoth may well decide it is in his best interests to admit defeat. "


    This was not going to work.


    "So be it," said Estal. "Send for Emira. I will speak to her at once."


    Before anyone could move, an orange mist entered the tent. It flowed into it, hiding everything from view. Then it faded away, and before them stood Emira. She fell to a kneel before Estal. "King Estal, you have sent for me?"


    Estal flinched. "Calisha has sent its armies. And they have failed. Your fleets are defeated. And your vanguard is broken. The next blow will suffer a similar fate as the world watches.


    "I ask now that Baltoth cease this meaningless war and return back to his own domain."


    "Emperor Baltoth understands well that your will did not do the taking of Safara. Rather, it was by the will of Aris," said Emira. "He salutes the valiancy of your defense and will gladly allow the matter pass in light of your son''s youth.


    "His offer given before remains: Return Safara to her husband. With the added stipulation that compensation is given to Calisha. Payment for the destruction wrought on our shores."


    "Compensation?" roared Aris. "You would demand compensation over the wreckage of your fleet and the bodies of your armies? Why should we yield as a defeated power?!"


    "Was it not you who dealt the first blow?" asked Emira. "Was it not you who struck without need? Have a care, Prince Aris. Baltoth''s patience is not infinite. In your pride, you cannot see the fall. Nor the brand which will soon be set to a pyre of your own making."


    "Do not threaten me, Calishan-"began Aris.


    "Enough," said Estal. "Ambassador, it is the custom among powers that the victor gains the advantage. Do you deny this?"


    "I do not," said Emira.


    "Then how can you ask me to discredit myself and the pride of my nation with such terms?" asked Estal. "I shall not give up my sanctuary offered to Safara. She is here as my guest and may remain so long as she desires."


    "Then there is nothing more to discuss," said Emira.


    Then, suddenly, the smell of burning entered the tent. A man rushed in. "King Estal! The fleet! Come quickly!"


    They rushed out of the tent and onto the hill. Looking out over the walls, William saw the fleet of Estal. It was burning. Dozens upon dozens of ships were burning. Men cast themselves into the sea to escape it. Other desperately tried to put out the flames, or carry valuables to safety.


    "What happened?" asked King Estal.


    "Bats emerged from the shadows of the cliffs!" said a man. "They dropped firebombs on the fleet while we were unloading!"


    "Why didn''t you shoot them down?" asked Aris.


    "We tried, but all the men had gone ashore!" said the man. Neseriah must have sent bats to linger just out of sight of the harbor until the fleet returned. Very clever.


    "Move the fleet out!" cried Aris. "Put out the flames! Save the ships!"


    As chaos overtook the beach, Emira walked forward confidently. "This flame signifies the first blow struck upon Estal. As your ships are consumed in the heat of fire, so too shall Estal be consumed by your pride."


    "You... coward!" roared Aris. "You spoke with us in parley while your armies marched to war!"


    Emira smiled. "Did you not do the same? Are you not bound by the rules of your own making?"


    William approached Safara, knowing this was their only chance. He tapped her on the shoulder. The sensation of coming into contact with her supple flesh sent chills through him. It was all he could od not to stammer nervously. "Safara, a word if you will."


    She looked up. "Yes, yes, of course?"


    They walked to one side. William forced himself to speak. He shouldn''t say anything, but he knew he must. She deserved to remain and do what she liked. "Listen to me Safara. You must return to Calisha," he said. The hurt on her face was like a knife to the heart. "Estal will be defeated. The longer we do battle against Calisha the harsher the end will be. You must go back before more people die."


    She looked torn. And so she should be, this magnificent and innocent creature, beloved by all who beheld her. She looked at the burning and wept. "...I can''t. You don''t understand, Suloth isn''t going to try and rescue me. He''ll punish me. I''ve seen what he does to his relations that defy him, what he did to Rammas.


    "He''ll do that to me if I''m lucky."


    This was ridiculous. What was he doing here? Why was he hurting her feelings like this? "And how many people have died already for the sake of this elopement? Why is your life worth more than theirs?"


    This question actually surprised her. "I''m a demigod. That sets me apart."


    "Then why are you defying your father?" asked William. "We could get assurances of your safety. But you must go. Please."


    It wasn''t really the hardest thing he''d ever done. He just felt like it was. Emotions were irrational, after all, but it worked. Safara slithered over to Estal, looking downcast. "...King Estal, many people have already died to defend me. My selfishness has caused horrible grief to the people of this land. I will return to Calisha if it means peace."


    "No!" cried Aris.


    And several others had said the same in that moment. Safara, beautiful and tragic, turned to Aris. "Aris I must-"


    "Shall we submit to the intimidation of Baltoth?" asked Aris. "To return Safara now would be nothing less of murder."


    "I can promise that she will not be permanently harmed," said Emira.


    "And of what worth is your word, Emira?" asked Aris. "You who parleys while readying a dagger to strike at our hearts? I tell you now, Estal will not submit to you, or Baltoth! Your armies will break on this island, and to take it will be the end of you!


    "I offer you nothing! And that is far more than you will receive if you persist!"


    "Aris, you must let me go," said Safara, ever willing to sacrifice herself. "My life doesn''t matter-"


    "Safara is mine!" snarled Aris. "And no power on heaven or earth shall take her from me!"


    Estal stepped forward. "My son, calm yourself," he looked to Emira. "Emira, I ask that you remove yourself from our presence. If you remain here before the destruction you have caused, I cannot guarantee your safety."


    Emira bowed politely. "Your courtesy is appreciated, King Estal. I pray you will come to your senses." Then she looked to Safara. Something passed between them, and Safara flinched. Then Emira turned on one foot and walked away.


    "Tanith, escort Safara back to the city," said Aris. "Put a watch on her. No one is to lay a hand on her."


    "Aris-" began Safara.


    Aris put a hand on her shoulder. "Enough. It is for your safety. I do not want assassins or kidnappers to seek you out. Please. Do this for me."


    "Wonderful," said Tanith, "so now I''m bodyguarding your pet snake."


    "She is not a pet!" snarled Aris.


    "Sure she isn''t," said Tanith.


    Tanith was far more intelligent than most gave her credit for, and had seen right through Aris'' facade. Aris valued Safara only as a possession. She was faultless here as in control as a slave. If William had her, he would have let her go. No, no, this was absurd. Why couldn''t he stop thinking about her like this?


    Was everyone thinking this way?


    "William, I am told you fought well in the battles," said Mother.


    "We''ve been told a great many things," muttered William.


    "You mean to say you did not?" asked Mother, surprised.


    "No. I''m just irritable," said William.


    Mother paused. "In any case, I am proud of your role. You are a credit to your family and a worthy son."


    "Good to hear," said William.


    "Is something wrong?" asked Mother.


    "Hmm, possibly," said William. "Your goddess tried to rape me. I was transformed into a bull by Herus and trapped by a medusa."


    "Wait, what?" said Mother. "When did this happen?"


    "A few days ago," said William. I haven''t talked to anyone about it. Tanith rescued me. Anyway, when I was rescued from that, I found that Aris had started a hopeless war. A war that I cannot escape from because Tanith talked me into it, and now all the ships are being burned.


    "And the only way to stop this is to get the King to do the one thing no one here is willing to do. Am I missing anything?"


    "Bah," said Massacre helpfully.


    "Silence Massacre," said William. "We''re all going to die. Everyone here is going to die."


    "William you despair too quickly," said Mother. "One can never know the paths that destiny will take. All one can do is set yourself against the challenge of the day. The fate of Estal has not been decided on this day. It will be decided on the days to come.


    "And at that time, I know you will make me proud."


    William remained silent. Once, he would have been glad to hear those words. But now he was just tired. He wanted to go home and rest, but that was not an option. Blood and death awaited. It was his duty to perpetuate it.


    The Calishan''s vanguard had been defeated, and many of their ships were broken. Yet it was only the beginning of the war. And William just wanted it all to end.

 Chapter 362 - The Dragoness Queen

    Montazus would rather be anywhere than here, in this skeletal and deadly place. The looming arches were engraved with images of death and decay. Though the sun looked on all things, he doubted it liked looking on these.


    Would that he had been given to the Sun Spirit forty years ago, that he did not have to make such an alliance. But he did, and so he looked at the floating humanoid before him. A creature of bones circling around a single red gem at the center. Bright, flaming eyes gazed at him from the throne as a single hand was drawing life from a prisoner.


    "Do you intend to drain the lifeforce from these slaves while we have our meeting, Lord Durag?" asked Montazus, reminding himself that the very universe rested on this alliance.


    "Ah, yes, that," said Durag. "He is a criminal, not a slave. Still, I suppose you prefer other beverages. I may have wine delivered if you so desire."


    "I would prefer not to drink at all," said Montazus, feeling ill as the prisoner''s flesh withered away. Even before his eyes, his bones began to break apart. The man did not scream at all. "Mixing pleasure with war is to be avoided."


    "As you wish," said Durag. "You need not fear. I''ve broken their ability to feel or perceive anything. They are more or less in a void, waiting to die.


    "I am a humanitarian, more than anything else. Now, what is it you wished to speak of, High Priest?"


    "The Conquista of Anoa will soon have its prophecy fulfilled," said Montazus. He was shifting his favorite green cloak about him. His wife had made it for him before she passed away a few years ago. "My scouts speak of wolves walking far afield. A man who is kin to them has arranged the coming of the Heir of Kings."


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    "...So, the time has come then," mused Durag.


    "Indeed it has," said Montazus. "We have read the stars. The Heir of Kings has come at last. Her coming may well serve as the footsteps of doom for both our empires."


    "I do not have an Empire, Montazus; I have property and associates," said Durag with a shrug. "Highwatch has my allegiance. Just because they delegate authority to me does not change my allegiance.


    "Still, I do see what you mean. The Conquista has long spoken of this coming moment while rallying against us. And the Dragon Empire knows her companion well."


    "Companion?" asked Montazus, surprised. Had Durag known of this?


    "Yes, Adrian Wrynncurth," said Durag. "I sensed his power; the last time I felt it, I was yet mortal. An ancient soul continually reincarnated. A master necromancer as well. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I would very much like to meet him."


    Montazus was not inclined to compromise. "He will burn, like all ancients must."


    "Not so long as our alliance lasts, he won''t," said Durag, shaking his head. "The girl means nothing to me; the same may be said of the humans. However, Wrynncurth is a true master of the art. Well worthy of my respect, I think."


    "I wonder if he will take that as a compliment," noted Montazus.


    "What do you know of the wielding of magic, Montazus?" asked Durag, irritated. "The pyres of your victims burn daily to give you power, and what do you use it for? More pyres? Survival for its own sake is a worthless pursuit."


    "You will never understand the grand purpose of the Sun Soul Empire," said Montazus.


    "I understand it all too well; I merely hold it in contempt," said Durag. "Now, perhaps we should discuss our strategy. I have many resources; I am certain I can stop them."


    Strategy was never Montazus'' preferred pursuit. He''d have much rather have been enjoying the sun on his face in a field of flowers. But faith required sacrifice from all men. And to be without faith was to be nothing.

 Chapter 363 - One: Queen Vanessa

    Relma stared down at the ground as the lands passed beneath him. They''d seen only blasted landscape when they had first moved through the Pass of Dragon Bones. Soon, they''d come into green hills and vibrant trees. Now and then, they''d seen villages, and they grew in size. Now and then, they had seen Red Dragons flying toward them. Someone called them back each time. Now, however, there were no villages and no dragons. The tree had become craggy and dangerous. The ground had a blight upon it, and all around them was the scent of decay.


    "We passed the last village nearly an hour ago," said Estela from one of the Black Dragons. "This place seems almost empty now." Her dark hair blew about her as she pulled her blue cloak closer.


    "Well, that is to be expected," said Wrynncurth beneath Relma. "Vanessa told me that this area is kept empty for various reasons. I wager she''ll explain things once we''re face to face."


    On they went.


    Eventually, Relma saw a city in the distance, situated upon a hill. The fortress had been set up, bricks laid on one another. Beyond the walls were many broken buildings, still firmly clinging to existence. Many looked to have been very tall at one point, but none had stayed that way, save one.


    Amid the fallen towers was a single, huge monastery with the emblem of a sun etched into it. Relma wondered what it was that it had symbolized.


    "Wrynncurth, where are we now?" asked Relma.


    "Well, I''ve not been down this way for centuries," said Wrynncurth ruefully. "Judging by the cliffs, I think we''re nearing the old capital."


    "How do you know that?" asked Estela.


    "I don''t, but I recall this place quite well," said Wrynncurth. "I remember there were far fewer castles the last time. When last I was here, this place was all wilderness. Someone has cut back the trees.


    "Come, we''ll land here. I''d rather not go any further today."


    Wrynncurth landed alongside his other dragons, none of whom had spoken. Jomas, who had been silent until now, dismounted and walked to sit on a rock. He stared out into space over the trees, face impassive.


    "Estela, Jomas, how was the flying?" asked Relma.


    For a moment, Jomas did not answer. "...Alright," he said at last. "Are either of you hurt?


    "No, I''m not," said Estela, not looking at him as she sat down far away. "I''m sore all over."


    Since King Tyus had tried to send Relma on this mission to die, Estela had been in a bad mood. She''d sent Jomas with Relma as extra security and to get out of marrying him. Then Wrynncurth had insisted Estela come with them.


    So now they were in a position where King Tyus wanted Relma to die. Estela wanted Jomas to die. Meanwhile, Relma was hoping they all made it out alive. She wished Ajax was here; he''d always been a good companion and could catch animals wherever they went.


    "Here, let me help you with that, Estela," said Relma, moving toward her dark-haired friend.


    Putting a hand on Estela''s shoulder, Estela breathed out. Relma could feel her aches and pains disappearing and felt glad. "I didn''t know healing magic could ease sore limbs."


    "Well, sore limbs are a kind of injury if you think about it," said Relma. "Jomas, do you need help?"


    Jomas said nothing; he was busy polishing his armor.


    "Let me see the map Wrynncurth gave us," said Estela.


    "You could just ask me, old girl," said Wrynncurth.


    Estela ignored him as Relma drew the map and handed it to her. The Knight looked over the data quickly. Finally, she lowered it. "...Well, according to this, we''re in the heartlands of the Dragon Empire."


    "Yes, my information is dated; need not rub it in," said Wrynncurth.


    "But you were so confident about your maps," said Estela sarcastically.


    "Let''s move on, Estela," said Relma.


    Despite being in ruins, the city was beautiful. The walls were overgrown with vines, and all kinds of grass and plants could be seen. Relma saw a tumbled statue in a square, that of a beautiful elven woman. This was the kind of place she''d have loved to play in with Ronald.


    But those happy days in Gel Carn were long behind them. Relma had ambitions to pursue now. "What is this place? It''s beautiful."


    "Nice enough, I suppose," said Wrynncurth ruefully. "Oh, this place was once the ancient city of Car''Qul, a High Elven city. In fact, it was once the greatest of the High Elven cities in this region. And it was the last of the High Elven nations to fall.


    "That statue is of Arasia; she married a human Prince in the city''s waning days. It is said that their descendants have elvish blood in them."


    "That''s ridiculous," said Estela flatly. "Different races can''t crossbreed. Well, except Satyrs. Elves are elves, and humans are humans. And humans are just better."


    "Well, the story involved some divine intervention," mused Wrynncurth. "But I take the point. A shame what happened to this place, though."


    "Did Anoa the Bright conquer them?" asked Relma. She''d learned a great deal about her ancestor and the founder of Harlenor United. Enough to know, he went beyond the realm of warlord and into force of nature.


    The man had singlehandedly reshaped the map of the world. He''d brought down all the old elven kingdoms and ushered in the era of humanity. He''d very nearly succeeded in wiping out the High Elves entirely.


    "Obviously not. Otherwise, we wouldn''t have spent the last age fighting the Dragon Empire," said Estela. Anoa never extended his power this far south, Estela. He went to conquer Haldren instead, to the north.


    "Well, old girl, that''s not strictly true," said Wrynncurth. "There was a jolly deadly try at burning the place, but the rise of Vrengar cut us off. I only came in here a while ago, and it was a bloody dangerous trip.


    "Back then, this place still stood with all its culture. Though most of the population was human, many of the stories were preserved. It seems the people have gone, though. I suppose the last remnants of the old high-elven civilization have been swept away.


    "I shall make a toast to whoever got the broom when we return."


    "And where is Queen Vanessa?" asked Estela. "She was supposed to meet us here."


    Relma glanced at Jomas, who was now shining his shield.


    "Oh, I imagine she''ll arrive a bit late," mused Wrynncurth. "It''s the fashion among Red Dragons for the more important dragon to arrive late. The greater, the later, if you''ll forgive the rhyme."


    "Why do you think she picked this place, though? It''s a ruin?" asked Relma.


    "Isolated," said Jomas suddenly.


    "Hmm?" asked Relma.


    Jomas shrugged. "Easy to kill us. Red Dragons are without honor."


    "Now that''s a bit uncalled for, old chap," said Wrynncurth. "Vanessa isn''t the sort of blackheart to kill in parley, especially not an old friend like myself."


    Estela looked up to the cathedral, and Relma followed her gaze to see the wall''s symbol. "That''s the symbol of Alchara. I think. She usually uses sun imagery.


    "Is she worshipped here?"


    "To an extent, though, everyone was forced to pay homage to Vrengar," said Wrynncurth. "I think they ought to have uprooted Alchara''s brood, but Vrengar was always too tolerant for his own good. He always preferred letting folk mind their own affairs so long as they paid their taxes.


    "Decent enough policy, but can be taken too far, I fear."


    "The Dragon Empire has been waging nonstop war on Escor for centuries. It has made it impossible to communicate with us," said Estela.


    Wrynncurth shrugged. "Well, he always was a paranoid chap. I expect he didn''t want his Empire speaking with others."


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    "That''s a given," said Estela.


    "But I''ve got an extended invitation, owing to the old allegiances," mused Wrynncurth.


    "Allegiances?" asked Relma.


    "Well, Vrengar was the student to my father, Smyngoth," said Wrynncurth. "In fact, he was instrumental in creating the hundred-year plan."


    "I''ve never heard of that; what was it?" asked Relma.


    "Oh, it was a splendid idea for the time, though it seems a bit trite now," said Wrynncurth. "See, in the days when the elder races ruled, a hundred years was a fairly short time. A war might happen once or twice in a thousand years. Though there were skirmishes and hunts, and plenty of them."


    "For humans?" surmised Relma.


    "Yes, a bit regrettable, but ancient history now," said Wrynncurth. It was a remark Relma found rather hypocritical. "Anyway, most plans took ages to finish. A human''s entire lifetime could go by without anything changing all that much. But Vrengar spent time among humans and saw how quickly things moved for them.


    "So he came up with the idea of planning to gain total dominance over all their enemies in a hundred years. We could destroy the enemy through a lightning-fast plan before they could adapt.


    "It worked out jolly good until Anoa the Bright united Harlenor."


    "How was that a problem?" asked Estela.


    "Well, that''s a bit complicated," said Wrynncurth. The original plan was that Elranor would be the patron god of humans. We''d envision a whole series of lesser kingdoms. Using them, we''d disrupt the High Elves'' control. From there, we''d weaken Alchara''s stranglehold on the flights.


    "We never thought Anoa the Bright would successfully unify the humans as a whole.


    "Which, I think, is the reason for confusing the languages. If you cannot communicate with Vrengar''s people, you can''t start a revolution very well."


    "I don''t want to start a revolution; I just want to end the fighting," said Relma.


    "Hold up, look down there," said Jomas in a sharper tone than normal.


    Relma and Estela made their way over to where Jomas was looking down the hill, toward a hole in the wall. Far below, they saw many shambling figures scaling up the hill in the night. There were dozens of them, and even more of them were coming.


    "Are those people?" asked Relma.


    "They''re shambling a bit from the looks of things," mused Estela. "Wrynncurth, could you send one of your friends to help?"


    "Oh, don''t worry, old girl," said Wrynncurth, motioning for the dragons to come forward. These aren''t real dragons; they are soulless creations that obey my will. And we''ll see to them sure enough."


    Two of the dragons, or whatever they were, shot into the sky. The beating of their wings was everywhere as they surged into the sky. Relma watched as they flew into the night. They waited for a while as more of the shambling figures came out, but they did not go past a certain point.


    It was as though they were moving against a hard barrier that they could not pass.


    "So, what did you find?" asked Estela.


    "Well, you don''t need to worry about talking with those chaps," said Wrynncurth. Then he took out his pipe and lit it. "They''re undead."


    "Undead?" asked Relma, horrified at the idea. "But what are they doing here?"


    "Well, there weren''t many of those back in the day," said Wrynncurth. "No more than anywhere else. I wonder how things got here?"


    "A better question is ''Where is everyone?''" muttered Estela. "We stopped seeing any villages a day or two ago. Why didn''t any of those dragons try to speak with us?"


    "Oh, I chatted with them a bit, right quick," said Wrynncurth. "While you were sleeping. Apparently, the number of dead has been rising for a time, but they don''t have much interest in it. Whenever the dead start to walk, they burn them up right quickly.


    "This is where Queen Vanessa agreed to meet us, so we''ll have to stay here for a time."


    "...They''re coming nearer now," said Jomas.


    "Need not worry, look there," said Wrynncurth.


    The undead began to force their way past the barrier, but their flesh began to burn as they did. As they walked forward, the front rank was reduced to ashes and the rank behind that.


    "They are being burned up. But how?" asked Jomas.


    "Simple enough, old chap," said Wrynncurth. "There''s some mighty powerful purification magic here that hasn''t quite fled the world. What''s say we take a look inside the temple, see how things have aged?"


    "Why does no one live here? That is what I want to know," said Estela. "This place seems defensible, and we passed all kinds of civilization coming here.


    "I''d set up a castle here."


    "Maybe they don''t have enough people to defend it," mused Relma.


    "They sent an army up against the Pass of Dragon Bones and have been doing it for hundreds of years," said Estela. "They have enough people to populate a city of this size."


    "Well, I''d wager that it was only recently," said Wrynncurth. "Let''s make a run for it."


    And run they did, Wrynncurth loping ahead of them along rooftops and scanning. As they did, Relma felt something setting itself against her. Other things were pressing in from behind.


    They neared the cathedral, and Wrynncurth entered quickly. Within was a statue of a beautiful Goddess, untouched by time. Her garb was of white and seemed to be flowing around them with a gust. On either side were places where two other statues could have put. One of them had been shattered and was broken rubble. The other was there but had been made faceless by rain. They were probably coming through the cracks in the ceiling.


    "See there," said Wrynncurth, voice cheerful. "That''s a statue of Alchara."


    Estela moved forward and kneeled down by what seemed to be incensed. There were also wilted flowers. "These flowers are recent. Someone has left offerings in this place."


    "So you think this place is sacred ground of some kind?" asked Relma.


    "I''d say so. Alchara was still worshipped here when I last came back," said Wrynncurth. Her religion was never fully stamped out, more''s the pity. Though it seems that has changed."


    "Why do you hate Alchara?" asked Jomas.


    Wait, Jomas had picked up on Wrynncurth''s hatred of Alchara? How? Wrynncurth always sounded cheerful, even when talking about his worst enemy.


    "Well, she plagued my entire family and wiped us outright quick," said Wrynncurth. He blew a draft on his pipe. "So, I''ve quite the vendetta with the old harpy."


    "Her religion has people in it," noted Jomas.


    "That much is obvious," said Wrynncurth.


    "Why want all those people wiped out?" asked Jomas.


    "I don''t," said Wrynncurth. "I''d much rather they just realize what a worthless goddess Alchara is."


    "I see you haven''t changed at all, Uncle Wrynncurth," said a voice.


    Relma looked up and saw a beautiful, violet-haired woman walking forward. She wore red-scaled armor and held a halberd in one hand. Wrynncurth smiled. "Vanessa, it''s splendid to see you again, old girl!"


    "Yes, well, you seem well enough," said Vanessa, moving forward. "I wish I could say the same for things here.


    "Relma Artorious, the Heir of Kings.


    "Welcome to the Dragon Empire." Then she looked at Wrynncurth. "Now, perhaps you could explain why you have come here after all this time, Uncle Wrynncurth?"


    "A small bit of negotiation, truth be told," said Wrynncurth. "See, the Kings of Harlenor are getting tired of fighting you. They were hoping to make a truce."


    "A truce?" asked Vanessa. "Why would I seek a truce when things proceed to my benefit?"


    "...Your benefit?" asked Estela. "You are aware we wiped out an entire army of yours, don''t you? Escor is triumphant."


    "True, from your limited perspective," said Vanessa. "However, you value human lives far more than the Dragon Empire. Those who went against your fortress went there in the desire to find death.


    "They sacrificed themselves for the opportunity to someday become Dragons. And by dying, they have saved their families."


    "What do you mean?" asked Estela.


    "We had a famine in the area east of here, and many were starving," said Vanessa. "So I arranged for volunteers to attack the pass of Dragon Bones. In exchange, their families will receive food from other houses. And with fewer mouths to feed, the famine itself is lessened.


    "Among them were many middle-aged men who would have become useless in age. I have liberated them from the fate of becoming old and feeble."


    "But there wasn''t a single man over forty in that army," said Estela. "I saw the corpses."


    "Of course," said Vanessa. "Humans are at their best in the ages between fifteen and forty. After that, they are cursed with the weakness of mind and body. Letting them die to ease the burden of their fellows is a kindness.


    "Their funerals were made before they left their villages."


    "And do you think Escor will stand for endless invasions?" asked Estela. "We are far stronger now than before and are not to be trifled with."


    "You have only one place from where you can invade," said Vanessa. "And we have long prepared for such an assault."


    "Excuse me?" asked Relma.


    "Yes?" asked Vanessa. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What would it take to get you to agree to negotiate peace between us?" asked Relma.


    Vanessa paused. "...An interesting question.


    "I would know who you are to ask it first?"


    "I am the Heir of Kings, the last descendant of Anoa the Bright," said Relma.


    Vanessa paused. "...Interesting, very interesting indeed.


    "Very well, then, I shall give you a quest. Complete it, and I shall meet the leaders of Escor for peace negotiations."


    "Name it," said Estela.


    "You must retrieve the Dragonfire Shield from the Island of Conquista," said Vanessa.


    "Island of the Conquista?" asked Estela.


    "Ah, yes, that, of course," said Wrynncurth. "The Conquista of Anoa, I believe they called themselves. Descendants of an invasion sent to conquer this region. I''m surprised they''re still in business."


    "They are," said Vanessa. "At present, we have a non-aggression pact with them, and I cannot afford to break it. As such, you must retrieve the shield with their blessing."


    "Why not just ask them for it?" asked Relma.


    "The Dragonfire Shield was created by Father himself. It was for Anoa''s greatest Knight, Orson," said Vanessa. "Wielding it, Sir Orson could slay several dragons who opposed Vrengar''s rise to become the Red King. However, it was lost during the wars, and we searched for it for many ages.


    "Ultimately, the Conquista found it first.


    "We sought to purchase it from them, but they have refused. And now that Durag has allied with the Sun Soul Empire, we cannot afford to alienate them."


    "Who are they?" asked Estela.


    "Durag is a Lich and a wretchedly powerful one," said Vanessa. "The undead who dwell around this city are his. The walking dead walk on his behalf. He sought to snatch the living and draw them back to his domain.


    "It is said he performs experiments upon those who die and uses their corpses to seize still more. There are tunnels beneath the earth that he digs to emerge in new places."


    "And what of the Sun Soul Empire?" asked Estela.


    "A cult founded by Alchara long ago that has grown a great deal," said Vanessa. "They used to dwell near us but have since become a danger to us. Their religion demands they burn the souls of ancient creatures for unholy rituals.


    "I recommend treading carefully around them. They may go after you, Uncle."


    "So, what now, Estela?" asked Relma.


    "I say we head after the shield right away," said Estela. "Queen Vanessa, are you mobilizing for war now?"


    "No, I have other places to fight battles in now," said Vanessa. "Estal is of secondary concern at best. A convenient way of removing undesirables if I''m feeling less charitable."


    "Would you permit us to see your domain for ourselves?" asked Estela. "And speak to your subjects."


    "I might," said Vanessa before pausing. "Very well, I shall grant you the ability to speak the languages of this world. Return here when you have the shield. I shall know."


    And then she was gone.


    No flash, no change in the wind. She was there one minute and was gone the next. Very impressive.

 Chapter 364 - Two: Siege

    With Vanessa''s disappearance, the statue lost part of its glow. Looking at it, Relma felt it looked a bit sad there, all on its own. Upon further examination, she saw that vines were growing up. A crown of flowers was upon her head.


    "Well, this sounds like a jolly good quest we''ve set out on now," said Wrynncurth ruefully. "Still, I''d best first send a message to King Tyus. He''ll need to know the details of this place."


    "I''m going to start a fire, Relma; come with me," said Estela. "Jomas, guard here."


    Relma nodded and turned from the statue to follow Estela. Together, they began to make their way out of the cathedral, looking for wood. Estela, however, seemed bothered by something, and her eyes kept darting around as if expecting an attack.


    "So, things seem to be going well here," said Relma after a moment.


    "How are they going well?" asked Estela bitterly. "We''ll have to go to find this Conquista of Anoa. It''s going to be even more work."


    "Well, at least we''ll be able to learn more about this region. It could help future missions," said Relma.


    "Not really," said Estela. "Queen Vanessa is sending us on this mission to eliminate us. She just doesn''t want to give Wrynncurth a flat refusal. This is what we call an impossible task."


    "Well we just need to achieve it," said Relma with a shrug. "Then it won''t be impossible anymore."


    "Yes, you do that," said Estela as they came to the city''s edge. The wood stood far below them. "We''re not going to find any wood here, are we?"


    "We could head into the woods over there?" said Relma, motioning to them.


    "And risk the undead?" asked Estela.


    Everything was getting colder. Relma shifted. "I guess, but it''s getting cold. We do need wood.


    "Want to get Jomas-"


    "No," said Estela flatly. "The less he''s involved, the better. Now let''s go."


    "Estela, he is your fiancee," said Relma. "Maybe-"


    "Don''t say it," said Estela. "My only hope is that he dies on this mission as quickly as possible." S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And they began to walk down.


    "That''s a horrible thing to say, Estela," said Relma after a moment.


    "Maybe, but it''s the only honorable way I''m getting out of this mess," said Estela. "Come on."


    They made their way down the slope toward the trees. As they did, Relma kept a hand on Lightning Trail, the sword of her ancestors. She didn''t expect it would be of much use, but Relma wasn''t very good at fighting. Mostly, she''d used the thing as a symbol and divine channel, which was pretty good.


    The trees rose around them, and Estela halted and leaned against a tree. "There''s the sticks.


    "Relma, gather them. I''ll stand watch."


    "Right," said Relma.


    Estela didn''t like manual labor, and somebody needed to play guard. So Relma began picking up sticks wherever they had fallen. As she did, she noticed the air was very dry, and the ground was the same.


    "Hmm..." said Estela.


    "What is it?" asked Relma.


    "These trees are very dry," said Estela. "It''s like this forest hasn''t seen any rain in a long time. A lot of these trees are dead.


    "Some sort of curse, no doubt."


    "Maybe we can break it," mused Relma.


    Then she saw a walking corpse coming around the tree, hands outstretched. The mouth of the creature was open in a silent moan as mottled hands stretched out. "Estela!" cried Relma. "Look out!"


    Estela darted away, drew her sword, and cleaved the thing''s head in half with one, swift movement. "Undead, wonderful. Keep gathering the sticks; we might freeze to death without them."


    More of them came out of the woods, and Estela started hacking. She moved this way and that, cleaving them down as they went. Relma quickly started picking up as many sticks as she could and bundling them together with a rope. One of the creatures came out of the underbrush, grasping for her, only to take a knife to the forehead.


    "Estela, let''s make a run for it," said Relma, grabbed the dagger and retrieving it.


    "Right, don''t drop the firewood!" said Estela, slashing down two more.


    Then Relma noticed something. Many of the bodies were pulling themselves towards them on cut limbs. Estela motioned for her to run, and Relma did, ducking under a dead man''s arms. Scaling up the hill, she glanced back to see Estela scaling up behind her, cloak billowing in the wind.


    She hacked and slashed as waves of undead came at her, beating a fighting retreat. And behind her fell a trail of limbs, hewn bodies, and smashed faces. These undead creatures had no semblance of humanity Relma could see. Their flesh was dried and mummified, and their bones brittle.


    And not a sound was made from them as they fell.


    Eventually, Relma and Estela had retreated into the aura provided by Alchara''s statue. Mentally, Relma wondered why Alchara would help the likes of Wrynncurth. Perhaps she was trying to help Estela or Relma. Or perhaps the aura was maintained for everyone.


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    Wrynncurth met them at the top of the ridge. He was sitting on a rock, smoking a pipe and scratching runes in the dirt. "Ah, Estela, Relma, off gathering firewood, are you?"


    "Something like that," said Estela, wiping her blade off on the grass.


    "Might want to tell us where you''re going next time, old girl, no sense in taking risks," said Wrynncurth. "Hmm, that''s rather a lot of undead, isn''t it?"


    "The shield should stop them," said Estela, looking down.


    Sure enough, on came the undead. Now they were coming in far greater numbers, and even as they pushed, they were burned away. Yet more were always coming as hordes of the corpses shambled out. If anything, their numbers were increasing.


    "...They aren''t turning back, are they?" asked Relma.


    "No, they''re not," mused Wrynncurth. "Some jolly old chap has it in his mind to get his undead up here. He must want one of you quite a bit."


    "Where''s Jomas?" asked Estela.


    "At the cathedral, I think," said Wrynncurth. "You shan''t need him. I''ll take care of this right quick. Hold my pipe, will you!"


    Estela took the pipe. "Right."


    And then Wrynncurth spurred out into the air. As he did, the golems went with him, souring out over the hordes. The three went with lightning speed, and as they did, they spat acid. Or Relma assumed they were spitting acid; she could hardly follow it.


    Wrynncurth and his golems with swoop down, and then lines of the things would be melted. They did it with practiced ease, and with every passing moment, more undead were burned away. In what had to have been less than a minute, his acid had destroyed...


    Relma wasn''t really sure.


    Tanith Telus had killed two black dragons Wrynncurth sent after her. How had she done that? She should have been melted in five seconds.


    "...I''ve next seen Wrynncurth in action like this," said Relma. "He''s always seemed so nice before, but this is..."


    "Lethal," said Estela, biting her lip. "They''re so fast and maneuverable."


    Then Wrynncurth and his golems started swooping down to grab undead. As they pulled them up, their jaws snapped to devour the living corpses. They snapped up limbs and bodies in an instant, while Wrynncurth came back. He was presently munching on the skull of an undead as he took back his pipe.


    "Well, I must say, this is quite a show today," said Wrynncurth. "I''ve spent quite a lot of acid on these chaps. I''ll need to eat a lot when this is over. Fortunately, the undead are an ideal meal."


    "You eat undead?" asked Estela, looking a bit green.


    "Of course, old girl," said Wrynncurth. "Not safe for either of you, but we Black Dragons are undead after a fashion. The energies within allow us to restore ourselves easily enough.


    "Well, why not go out there with all your golems?"


    "Oh, I could, not mistake, but just one is keeping them at bay," said Wrynncurth. "I think it best to vary our time spent out there. This way, I can keep it up nonstop."


    "How many more are coming out of those woods?" asked Estela, watching the horde grow.


    "Rather more than I can kill alone, I think," said Wrynncurth. "Not to worry, I''ll..." And then there was a horn call. "Oh, dear."


    "What is it?" asked Relma.


    "That''s the horn of Stormstrike," said Estela. "Come on!" Drawing her sword, she raced out, and Relma followed. The horn calls continued, growing louder as they moved through decaying streets. Suddenly, they came out and found Jomas fighting what seemed a legion.


    The huge man was swinging around his hammer repeatedly. Wherever it fell, lines of undead were shattered to dust. He blew his horn, even as he did, and more fell to him.


    "Damn it, come on, Relma!" said Estela. "We''ve got to stop them!"


    "I thought you wanted Jomas to die," said Relma.


    "That doesn''t mean I''ll abandon him to be eaten by these things," said Estela. "If Wrynncurth is worried, then that means-"


    Jomas continued to swing, and the undead began to be destroyed even faster. Relma suddenly realized that the undead horde was not advancing at all. If anything, it seemed to be slowing down.


    "-he won''t last long," said Estela. "So, uh, should we go to his aid?


    "Relma, stay back and heal us if we get injured."


    Estela rushed in, hewing down the creatures. She was going to rescue someone who had the situation completely under control. Relma suspected that Estela and she were in more danger than Jomas before they arrived. The man seemed to have the strength of ten giants.


    As Estela waded into the combat, Relma drew out Lightning Trail. As she did, she saw the number of undead increasing. The creatures were slow and fought with no skill, but they seemed to be gaining ground little by little. One grabbed ahold of Jomas'' arm, while another threw itself at his feet. He jerked and threw on away, while Estela covered him, yet more were coming.


    This wasn''t good. Sooner or later, they''d be overrun.


    Hang on, perhaps Relma could use Lightning Trail here. Raising the sword, she began to focus her power on it. While Relma hadn''t had a lot of practice, she''d had some general principles down. Focusing her will through it, she saw the sword catch the light.


    "By the power of Elranor..." murmured Relma. "Um, by the power..." She felt ridiculous. "Nevermind.


    "Be banished!"


    A wave of light shot from her. As it washed over the undead, they collapsed, shrieking. Soon, they were reduced to ashes. Relma felt their tortured spirits fading away to whatever life awaited them. And suddenly, she felt exhausted.


    Estela and Jomas looked up. As they did, Relma collapsed to her knees.


    "Relma, did you do that?" asked Estela.


    "Yes, but um, I... I''m a bit tired from it," said Relma, trying to stand.


    And then the undead came over the hill in still greater numbers, and there seemed to be a wall behind them. They moved faster, and they''d hardly had a chance to recover before they were fighting. Estela hauled Relma beneath an arch as Jomas fended them off.


    Something had enraged the spirit behind these things, and now it was focused more against them. Even now, the undead were shambling around them, scaling over fallen pillars. Soon, they were forced to withdraw again and again.


    Then, as they ran, Relma tripped over a pillar and fell. Lightning Trail was flung from her grasp. Estela and Jomas turned to aid her, only to be barred by many creatures. Hands gripped Relma, dragged her back by the hair, and as she fought, more arms stopped her struggles.


    Relma heard Estela scream, and then Ajax was there.


    The wolf-boy surged out of the ruins with a howl, and as he did, the Undead cowered before him. His eyes glinted red as he ripped through them systematically, smashing, crushing. Finally, he caught those who Relma was gripped by, and they dropped her and fled.


    Not that they got far.


    Ajax''s howls were heard throughout the day as he tore through the streets, leaping off walls. Relma, however, found herself in a daze, hardly understanding what was happening around her. At last, however, she awoke and found Ajax looking down at her, his white hair on her shoulder.


    "Ajax, you''re here," said Relma.


    "Of course I am," said Ajax, sitting up quickly. "I saw you and Wrynncurth flying, and I''ve been following behind for some time. What are you doing out here? This entire forest is crawling with the undead."


    "We''d better check with Estela and Jomas," said Relma, looking around. She was back in the cathedral now.


    Estela and Jomas came through, weapons and armor bloodied, not with their blood. Ajax looked to Estela, who came forward and wiped off her blade on some grass. "Ajax, what are you doing here?"


    "Saving you," said Ajax simply, as more howls emanated.


    "Why hasn''t someone cleared this place out?" asked Relma. "These undead are a threat to everyone."


    "From what I gather, it''s usually only an occasional snatching," said Ajax. "But the wolves in this place tell me that a vast undead column spilled over the rivers. Others in surrounding areas all came to this place.


    "Where''s Wrynncurth."


    "I don''t know," said Relma. "We ran to help Jomas. Last we saw, he was holding off the undead."


    "There he is!


    Then Wrynncurth came in through one of the holes in the roof. The light was dying now, and in it, he looked very formidable. He landed, folding his wings, but suddenly collapsed to one knee. Relma saw that he was covered in wounds.


    "Back news, chaps," said Wrynncurth. "It seems this whole city is crawling with undead. They''re coming at us from all sides, and I don''t wager we''ll be able to stop them all."


    This was going to end badly, wasn''t it?

 Chapter 365 - Three: The Stand

    Estela swiftly led them up a set of damaged stairs to a higher level. Relma had missed these before, they''d been hidden behind a shattered pillar. As they climbed, she glanced out a window. There she saw the shambling monsters moving through the ruins. Ajax walked behind, sniffing the air. Relma was between them, helping Wrynncurth up the stairs.


    "Why are we going this way?" asked Jomas.


    "I saw a fountain on the higher levels that are working," said Estela. "Don''t ask me how. There was only one way into that area, and it''s up a staircase. One man could hold off an army for hours.


    "We''ll rotate defenders and have two people on watch. One in front and one on support." Turning around a corner, she rushed into a large room that looked like it had once been used for prayers. Sure enough, there was a fountain springing out clear water.


    Relma realized how thirsty she was and moved forward to drink from it.


    "You want us to go into a dead end?" asked Ajax.


    "We''re trapped, either way, Ajax," said Estela. "And this room has a fountain. Now, at least they can only come at us from one direction."


    "Yes, and we can''t break out," said Ajax.


    No one responded to that.


    "Ajax, you''re on the first watch," said Estela. "You''ll kill those things as they come, and rotate with Jomas in an hour. Then I''ll take your place.


    "Relma tend to Wrynncurth, and anyone who gets hurt.


    "Wrynncurth, take an inventory of our supplies and try to ration them to last as long as possible." As she did, Estela threw off her pack, and Relma did the same. Jomas and the others followed suit, except Ajax, who didn''t have a pack.


    "One of them was taken down by a spear throw and killed by a cyclops," said Wrynncurth. "The other I''ve already sent away. If I''m killed here, I imagine I can possess the chap."


    "Good," said Estela. "Go out abroad and see if you can find us help. We''ll hold here until then."


    Ajax peered up from the threshold of the door. Outside, Relma could hear the shambling of feet walking into the cathedral. She wondered if Alchara had released her defenses or hadn''t been able to maintain them. In the air, Relma sensed a sort of power still here.


    Perhaps Alchara had decided it wasn''t worth the effort to save an enemy.


    "Estela, what is your plan here?" asked Ajax.


    "What does any Lord under siege plan?" asked Estela, flourishing her sword. "To break the enemy army.


    "What are you doing here? I thought you were scouting for my father?"


    "I''m scouting for Relma; King Tyus can be food for my pack for all I care," said Ajax. "And for the record, he wants to invade."


    "What?" said Relma. "But why?"


    "Why do you think? His son died in the wars here, and he wants a permenant end to them," said Ajax.


    "Why would a father want to do that now?" asked Estela. "It''s not a smart move."


    "He''s beginning to think that we stand a chance of winning," said Ajax. "And I''ve been sent all over the place mapping things. Arengeth is trying to reign him in, but someone brought in all the satyrs. We''ve got a huge army and nothing to do with it."


    "Do you think we could find some kind of target?" asked Relma, beginning to hear Wrynncurth''s wounds. They were deep, and working at them was difficult. "Maybe one no one will mind being destroyed."


    And then the undead came up the stairs toward them. Ajax howled as they climbed, and some of them fell dead. Others shrank back before more pushed forward. Ajax howled again, and once again, they broke. So it began, the undead amassing in greater numbers on the stairs until some were falling off.


    Soon they were nearing Ajax.


    "This is not what I expected to be doing when I started this quest," said Ajax.


    And then he howled and went berserk, charging forward to slash and tear at the monster. The creatures were ripped and shredded, falling back. Those that lay hands on Ajax lost them shortly thereafter. Soon he''d sent them falling back, and a wall of bodies lay upon the stairs.


    Yet more were scaling up over it even now.


    "What are you doing?!" said Estela. "We''re supposed to be holding our position, not sallying forth!"


    "I''m an aggressive fighter," said Ajax, having several scratch marks on him. "You demonstrate the technique if you want to tell me what to do." And he stalked away from the entrance, Estela quickly taking his place. Even as she did, she cleaved down an undead, then another, then another.


    Ajax moved over to Relma and kneeled down. "Just heal me quickly; I need to stand by for my turn.


    "Adrian, any news?"


    "None yet," said Wrynncurth. "My golems cannot speak directly, sad to say, so I shall have to write my message. It is now very near one of the palaces. I''ll try to communicate with them." Relma finished a major wound and moved on to another. "...Hmm."


    "What?" asked Relma.


    "Oh, my golem is dead," said Wrynncurth. "Someone just put a spear through them. Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk.


    "How are things, Estela, old girl!"


    "I''m busy!" snapped Estela, hacking down more of them.


    Relma quickly healed Ajax; his wounds weren''t serious. It seemed to her that killing these undead was not really a life or death struggle. Rather, it was more of a prolonged and dangerous bout of hacking wood. They made no attempt to defend themselves and could only come one at a time. So all you had to do was hack them down repeatedly.


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    And Estela did just that.


    It went on and on, and soon she began to tire. Switching with Jomas, Relma then healed her scratches. She watched as Jomas pulverized the undead with strikes. His expression never seemed to change for anything. Soon, he began to tire and switched with Ajax, who Estela let burrow his spare sword.


    Ajax then took to hacking them down one by one as they came. And all the while, they waited under siege, drinking water. And Relma realized this was never going to work. Sooner or later, someone would make a mistake, and everything would start all over again. But what power could they call on to fix this?


    Of course.


    "Alchara," whispered Relma, so Wrynncurth couldn''t hear. "I''m sure you have plenty of reason to dislike me for my heritage. And Wrynncurth for his. But if tales are told of how we annihilated an entire army of undead with aid from your temple. You''ll come out of it looking pretty well."


    And so the drudgery continued.


    On it stretched, and light coming through holes in the roof grew dimmer. The rotation of combat continued, and soon there were corpses filling the stairs. As one fell, others fell off the stairs into the room below. And still on came the walking dead.


    "How many did you see out there?" asked Relma, who had nearly finished healing Wrynncurth.


    "More than we could kill with swords, I wager," said Wrynncurth. "Still, if anyone falls, I could breathe acid into them. "There must be thousands upon thousands of them out there."


    "No sign of them letting up," mused Relma.


    "Afraid not," said Wrynncurth. "Though they might have been running out of bodies just beyond the cathedral."


    "Estela, this isn''t going to work," said Relma. "We could hold out for a while here, but sooner or later we''re going to make a mistake."


    "Not to judge, Relma, old girl, but we don''t seem to have much in the way of alternatives," said Wrynncurth.


    Relma looked up at the ceiling. "What about up?"


    "Hmm?" said Wrynncurth.


    "Could you melt through the roof up there?" asked Relma.


    "I suppose I could, and I''m tall enough to bring you lot up," mused Wrynncurth. "What say you, chaps? Up for a rooftop escape?"


    "Just do it!" snapped Estela.


    "Jolly good then, step back," said Wrynncurth, rising up.


    Breathing out, he shot a thin line of acid onto the wall above. Moving it quickly, he halted the spray. Soon there was a hissing, and the ceiling fell inward. The ground shook as it collapsed over the floor. It landed, leaving a ramp leading into the roof above.


    "That''ll do," said Wrynncurth. "Estela, you'' scale up first, then Relma, then Ajax, and Jomas last of all. Quick now, while we can.


    "Ajax, do some howling, would you?"


    "Whatever you say," said Ajax, who had been standing by.


    Then Ajax howled, and the undead scrambled backward. The walls of bodies shifted and fell backward. Estela sheathed her sword and scaled upwards, slipping on the rocks once. Then Wrynncurth turned to Relma. "Come on, up, up quick. Relma, you next."


    Relma nodded and tried for it. She was careful to snatch up her pack while she did so and Estela''s too. She''d left it behind.


    Pulling herself up on hands and knees, she looked down and saw the undead kept at bay, for now. Moving further, Estela offered a hand, and she took it. Hauling herself up, she looked down at Wrynncurth. "Right, I''m up."


    Jomas came next as Ajax was gradually forced backward. Finally, just as Jomas reached the roof, Wrynncurth snatched Ajax and surged upwards. Landing on the roof, Relma looked around. She was standing upon a tiled roof, and all around her was the city. And every building was alive with the walking dead.


    As the undead tried to scale after them, Jomas struck the ramp with his hammer. The stone splintered and broke, before collapsing downward.


    "Well, we''ve made it into the roof," said Estela, shivering in a gust. "They won''t be getting up here easily, now what?"


    "They can''t have covered the entire city," mused Ajax. "Probably only most of it. Wrynncurth, could you ferry us over to that structure over there?"


    Wrynncurth looked over to a tower near the outskirts. "I would, but I''m mighty tired at the moment. Carrying all of you, one at a time seems beyond my abilities. I need a bit to rest. And anyway, we can''t afford to get separated."


    "I believe that I can be of some help with that, cursed one," said a voice.


    Relma looked up and saw the very image of the statue of Alchara, now in the flesh. Her hair flowed around her with radiant beauty. Wrynncurth snarled in hatred and moved forward. "Alchara.


    "What cursed fate brought you to this place?"


    "I might say the same for you," noted Alchara. "Given that you''ve caved in the roof of my cathedral."


    "We don''t have time for this," said Estela. "Why are you here, and what does it have to do with us?"


    "I thought I might offer to reactivate some of the spellwork on this city to assist you," said Alchara with a shrug. "As an act of goodwill. I can create a bridge of light that can lead to the far side of this city. From there, you can escape.


    "The undead are focused mostly in this part of the city. Move swiftly enough, and you may escape."


    "You have nothing we need, bitch," snarled Wrynncurth.


    "Do you have an alternative?" asked Alchara flatly. "Or would you prefer to die by the hand of the undead?"


    "You misunderstand me," said Wrynncurth. "I am perfectly capable of saving myself and several others." Then, surging forward, he snatched Relma and Estela in his talons. He leaped off the roof, wings beating. Soon, they were dangling in midair, trying to reorient herself. The wind howl through her hair, and it was cold. The scent of death was in it.


    "Wrynncurth, what are you doing?!" said Estela. "Ajax and Jomas are still back there!"


    "I''ll go back for them after I drop you off, old girl," said Wrynncurth.


    Wrynncurth shot over the trees and descended into them, landing down. Dropping Estela and Relma, he lay down for a moment.


    "Wrynncurth, are you sure about this?" asked Estela. "Her help could have-"


    "It''s principle, old girl," said Wrynncurth. "If I accept help from her, then I must forgive and forget what was done to my people that I shall not do.


    "I should not have had cordial tea with her, let alone put myself in her debt.


    "This should be far enough. Stay here."


    And he shot off in a blur, flying up over the city. As they did, Estela and Relma got behind a tree, watching as undead began to wander over the edge toward them. Perhaps by some spell of Alchara, the wards flared to life, and the scattered few were burned apart.


    "...The undead are coming this way. Who is directing them?" asked Estela. "They can''t just be mindless."


    "I don''t know," mused Relma, "but I hope Wrynncurth, Jomas, and Ajax get here soon."


    Wrynncurth came back, carrying Jomas as he did. He landed and collapse to his haunches, drawing out his pipe and lighting it.


    "Wrynncurth, are you alright?" asked Relma.


    "Fine enough," said Wrynncurth. "No word on where Ajax is, though. He wasn''t on the roof when I got there."


    "I''m here," said Ajax, emerging from the trees. "As soon as Wrynncurth took you off the roof, the undead changed tactics and went after you. I used the confusion to slip away."


    "What about Jomas?" asked Relma. "You left him?"


    "Yeah," said Ajax. "Why wouldn''t I? Wrynncurth was coming back for him. He couldn''t have made it out by stealth, and the dragon said he couldn''t carry all of us. So I took things into my own paws." sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Should we find a place to hide and rest there?" asked Jomas.


    "We can rest when we''re dead," said Estela, "assuming there are no necromancers around. Come quick, into the trees.


    "Does anyone have the packs?"


    "I um, I was wearing mine," said Relma. "And I have yours, Estela."


    No one else said anything. Ajax shrugged.


    "Damn it," said Estela. "No matter, as Ronald would say, better short rations than short a head."


    "Wise words," said Wrynncurth.


    Together they moved on into the woods, even as the undead began to come after them. Relma felt very tired, and everyone else looked worse. Ajax kept sniffing at the air. "Why do you think Alchara manifested there in these ruins?" asked Relma suddenly.


    "Who knows or cares?" snapped Ajax.


    "It could be relevant to our plans," said Estela. "Even if we aren''t accepting her help, we should know."


    "Well, if I were to hazard a guess, I should say that she likely has a great deal of innate power. One drives out the undead," said Wrynncurth. "Alchara is a manifestation of nature''s harmony. No doubt, the whore sensed my presence and let the undead in.


    "She''d love to see me dissected; I''ll tell you that."


    "Well, why would she offer to help us then?" asked Relma.


    "Because it would give her power over you, Relma," said Estela. "If she saved you, you would owe her something. If ever you came into your inheritance in full, that kind of debt is a powerful thing.


    "She''d need only to save you from a problem she herself created."


    "There''s no proof of that," scoffed Ajax. "For all we know, Alchara''s power was weakening. She probably couldn''t afford to confront whatever will broke in here."


    "Are you really coming to that butcher''s defense, Ajax old boy?" asked Wrynncurth, voice slightly disapproving.


    "No," said Ajax, giving him a flat. "I''m saying there might not anything to defend her for. Alchara hasn''t been a significant player in ages.


    "Besides, if you had the chance to sick an army of zombies on her and didn''t know Relma, you would have done the same thing."


    Wrynncurth shrugged. "...I jolly well should not have. Zombies are an inefficient tool, all quantity without any quality. They''re clumsy and might well eat someone who isn''t my enemy.


    "That kind of weapon is bad business.


    "Either way, I suppose it isn''t worth chatting on the subject. Alchara has nothing on us, and we are free."


    "For how long?" asked Estela. "Undead don''t need to rest. Even if we move faster than them, they''ll catch up in the night."


    "Oh sure enough, but their handlers do," said Wrynncurth. "Intelligent undead must sleep now and then, even if they don''t close their eyes. Minds need rest now and then, you know, even if they are in corpses.


    "We need only outrun them."


    "I have a better plan," said Ajax, before howling into the air. The sound rang throughout the wood, and Estela looked up in horror.


    "You''ll draw them right too us!" said Estela.


    "We''ll draw something closer first," said Ajax, as out of the shadows came many wolves. "Here are my kin."


    "What did you do?" asked Relma.


    "I''m setting up a spell of sorts," said Ajax. "These ones will encircle the main column of the undead. You''ll rest here, for now, I''ve got work to do."


    Then Ajax disappeared with his kind.


    And they waited.


    Howls occasionally echoed throughout the wood, met with the moans of the dead. They seemed to bounce off the trees over and over again. Relma, Estela, and Jomas ate their rations and waited. Little by little, Ajax returned, looking very pleased with himself.


    "We must have destroyed thousands of their spells," said Ajax. "We shattered their enchantments, and I even got a look at their handlers!"


    "Handlers? What do you mean?" asked Estela.


    "He was a cyclops, a huge one with an eye of bright green," said Ajax. "With him were a number of dwarves. The wolves here call him Akar.


    "Anyway, I coordinated with the other wolves and began mass howling. Their voices meshed with mine and took on some of the power.


    "We need not worry about those undead for a while; I''ll tell you. They''re trying to run the opposite direction.


    "Now come on, let''s not stick around here anymore."


    "I hate zombies," muttered Jomas.


    "I think we all agree with that," said Wrynncurth.


    No one argued.


    Relma, however, made a mental note to rebuild this place someday. She''d like to see it restored to what it once was.

 Chapter 366 - Four: The Heartlands

    The next few days were miserable.


    It rained regularly, and they trudged through the mud. It wasn''t long before they were soaking wet and filthy. Estela insisted they move, and droplets of water soaked their cloaks. At the same time, they had several more near misses with the undead. Here, Ajax''s wolves proved invaluable in driving them off, bouncing their howls around.


    But a choice between neverending tides of undead and howling wolves did not help Relma sleep. Food soon ran short, so they had to ration it. Relma, of course, was the one who did the rationing since she''d learned the trick from Ronald. Said food was largely dried things given by Escor and anything but tasty. Rainwater was all they had to drink, and it had a foul taste.


    Of course, soon enough, they were missing it. The rain stopped suddenly, and they walked through parched and dying woods. Soon, their mouths were dry from the heat, and everyone felt bleary.


    "So what now?" muttered Estela as they journeyed.


    "There are some villages near here," said Ajax. "If we make for them, we should be able to get some help and supplies there. But it''s a few day''s journey out there, so we''d better make our supplies count."


    "Relma, can you pass me your water skin," said Estela, voice parched.


    "Yes," said Relma, offering it to her.


    Estela took it and drank a mouthful. "We''ll each take a mouthful and move on.


    "You next, Relma."


    Relma drank it, then passed it to Ajax, who shrugged. "I''ve already got a water skin, and I''m not sharing it with any of you."


    "Right, sorry," said Relma.


    Estela looked annoyed at this. Meanwhile, Relma opted to pass the water skin to Jomas and then Wrynncurth, who refused it.


    "Oh, no need to worry, I don''t need to drink," said Wrynncurth. "Not for a very long time.


    "Jomas, you have the rest," said Estela.


    Jomas drank it, nodding. Then Estela looked to Ajax. "Now, Ajax, we need to get to somewhere with water."


    One of Ajax''s wolves spoke to him, and Ajax glanced at him. "He says there is a stream near here. Come on, we''ll find it."


    On they went until they came to the stream. It was mostly dried up, but there was still a bit of water flower. They had a hard time filling up their canteens as they did and ended up sticking around there for a while.


    "This place has been getting steadily worse," said Ajax. "All the undead wandering around is sapping the life from this place. Where they walk, life weakens."


    "Wonderful," said Estela. "And there''s no end to them, either. How is anyone still alive in this place?"


    "My kin are actually very impressed," said Ajax. "We''ve killed a lot of undead. As far as I can tell when they die, the life energy they sap is restored to the land. We''ve probably done a lot of good for the environment."


    "Isn''t that what happened to the Dusk Lands?" asked Relma. "All the undead that were raised there sapped away the lifeforce of the land."


    "More or less," said Estela. "That and Adrianeth''s invasion."


    "Finish up," said Ajax, filling his canteen. "I''ve been scouting out this whole place. These ones came out of the ground in several critical areas. I''ve set my wolves watching; they''ll give me a howl if anything comes out of there-"


    And then there was a howl.


    "That sounds like a howl to me," said Wrynncurth.


    "Ah, so they''re retreating," said Ajax, smiling.


    "Retreating?" asked Relma. "Undead do that?"


    "Yes, fleeing back through a passage east of here, into the Road of Ancient Stone," said Ajax. "We must have done enough damage that their handlers don''t want to risk losing anymore.


    "Even the hordes of hell have limited numbers."


    "Perhaps Father could use those passages to invade the enemy stronghold," mused Estela.


    "Don''t you remember the last time we had a showdown in the Road of Ancient Stone?" asked Ajax. "Relma led Lucius'' army straight to us."


    "Yes," said Estela. "And we won. As a result, we are now far stronger."


    Ajax sighed. "Fine, have it your way. I''ll send Arengeth the details in my next report.


    "What is your goal anyway? Conquest?"


    "We''re on a quest to find the Dragonfire Shield," said Relma. "It''s held by the Conquista of Anoa, which is set on an island."


    "Oh sure, great, that''s great," scoffed Ajax. "More Harlenorians."


    "What do you have against us?" asked Relma.


    "Nothing at all," said Ajax. "I''d just hoped that if I was going into a realm no one had been in centuries, it wouldn''t be more of the same. Isn''t there anywhere Anoa hasn''t invaded?"


    "Probably not, no," said Relma. "I haven''t heard of anywhere he isn''t well known.


    "He was the greatest King who ever lived."


    "Well, I''m not sure about that," mused Wrynncurth. "He was great, but I haven''t met every King."


    "I guess not," said Estela.


    They walked on, and things began to improve. There was more green beneath their feet, and Ajax was able to find some animals to hunt. The leaves on the trees became far greener as well.


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    "The woods are changing; the land is becoming less tainted," mused Estela.


    At last, however, they got out of the forest and saw before them the village.


    The village before them was not like those in Escor. The buildings were made of white stone and had slanted roofs with red tiles. The fields around them were prosperous and green, a marked contrast to the woods from before. People were working in the fields.


    However, there were also men standing by with spears and shields. They bore silver wooden necklaces around their necks that showed a dragon claw. But some spell of Wrynncurth let them evade their watch.


    "Here we are," said Ajax. "For what little value human civilization is. Honestly, can''t you just warp the trees into natural buildings like normal people?"


    "No," said Estela. "Nature sided with the elves. Our civilization was founded by setting fire to nature. They''d have starved us to death if we hadn''t ruled by terror.


    "And we''re still not fond of them."


    "I am," said Relma.


    "Yes, but I make the decisions," said Estela. "In any case, I haven''t seen that kind of roof design before. How do they afford the shingles?"


    "They don''t usually build new structures," said Ajax. "My kin tell me that most villages use the same buildings through multiple families. Dragon Lords own the houses themselves, or so I think. Sometimes, families are evicted and replaced with new ones.


    "Most wolves don''t understand how civilization works. We don''t particularly care either."


    "Then why do they obey you?" asked Relma.


    "Because I''m superior," said Ajax. "Their master by nature. I bring order to their universe and tell them how best to survive."


    "Isn''t that civilization?" asked Jomas.


    And then Relma saw something. It was a huge circle of stones, and within it were several circles of people. At the center were a number of beautiful women clad in red silk dresses. They were chained to the ground but not struggling. Around them was a circle of men standing where they were, older and very fit. Then there were a series of less impressive-looking people, all of them injured, old, or sick. Among them were deformed children.


    Wearing only a loincloth, a priest stood on the outskirts, flanked by guards. He spoke harshly, and Relma tried to make out the words.


    "What is that?" asked Relma. "Some sort of ceremony?"


    "I can understand them..." said Estela.


    Little by little, Relma began to make out the priest''s words. "Great one, take these maimed, bold, and maidens! Release their souls from their broken forms through cleansing fire! Let them be found worthy of your form!"


    "Oh, that''s the sacrificial pit where those fed to dragons are born," said Ajax.


    A cry could be heard, and Relma''s throat went dry. "Is that a baby? They''re sacrificing."


    "Oh, yes, I guess they''re planning to eat the child," said Ajax. "Probably deformed at birth or something. Better than starving to death, I guess. It''s just nature taking its course."


    Suddenly, there was a roar. From the air came a huge dragon. Relma had seen Red Dragons distantly during the siege of the Pass of Dragon Bones. But up close, they were like what she''d expected Wrynncurth to be¡ªonly far larger and far more terrifying.


    "We can''t just stand here," said Estela.


    "I shouldn''t do that, Estela, old girl," said Wrynncurth, smoking his pipe. Where had he got the tobacco? "Not unless you mean to alienate their society and raise the children yourself."


    "I know, but-" began Estela.


    A gust of wind swept through their hair as the red-scaled beasts descended, flapping their wings. As it landed on the ground, the ground beneath their feet shook. The beast breathed flames downward, and Relma could feel the heat. There was a scream, and in an instant, the entire ring of stones was ringed by infernos.


    Red energy surged from the ring and into the beast who roared skyward. As it did, the flames dissipated, and no trace of those who had been within was there. The dragon gave Wrynncurth a scornful glance, then turned and flew away.


    "Well, Evren''s certainly grown up since last we met. Let''s not tarry," said Wrynncurth. "We''ve introductions to make!"


    And he began to make his way toward the circle. As they did, one of the guards saw them and drew his sword. "Halenorians! Ring the alarm and kill them quickly! They must not interrupt the ritual!" Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No need for that, we''re here on behalf of Queen Vanessa?" said Wrynncurth.


    The guards looked at one another. "...They speak our language. How?"


    "Queen Vanessa can allow men to speak with outsiders and the reverse. It may be that they are those we were told to look for," said the priest. "What were you doing in the Woods of the Dead?"


    "Fighting undead," said Estela flatly.


    "But why were you doing that?" asked the priest.


    "They attacked us," said Estela,


    "But what were you doing in the Woods of the Dead in the first place?" asked the priest.


    "We''re Running from the undead that attacked us," said Estela. Now, she was deliberately infuriating the man.


    "...You aren''t making this easy at all," noted the priest.


    "We are here on a quest for Queen Vanessa," said Estela flatly. "To retrieve the Dragonfire Shield. In exchange, we hope to gain peace between our peoples."


    "How did you get in here in the first place? And what is that monstrosity behind you?" asked the priest.


    "My name is Adrian Wrynncurth, truth be told, an old friend of Queen Vanessa," said Wrynncurth. "Jolly good to meet you, old chap. May I ask the occasion of this ritual, and your name?"


    "I am Brandus," said the priest, donning a robe. As he did, he glanced back to where several other people were being led out into the circle. "Behind me are those who will be sacrificed to Lord Bryag when he arrives."


    "Ah, so Bryag has come to rule this place," said Wrynncurth. "Jolly, it''s good to know he managed to take control of himself."


    "Well, in truth, Lord Bryag has no domain or hoard of his own," said the priest, looking away.


    "No hoard?" asked Wrynncurth. "There must be some mistake; he was entitled to nearly half of what was passed to Vrengar when I was last here."


    "Yes, well, things have changed since then," said Brandus. "It isn''t my place to discuss the matter. Lord Bryag is now given a tribute of captives in exchange for guarding the river leading into the land of Durag. He''ll come to the aid of these lands and others in exchange for this tribute."


    "And who does rule this land?" asked Estela.


    "This is the domain of Lord Evren," said the priest. "I''m not supposed to oversee this sacrifice. Priests only oversee their own Dragon Lord''s sacrifices. To do otherwise is disrespectful."


    "Who are all these people you''re sacrificing?" asked Estela.


    "Criminals are in the outer regions," said Brandus. "The maidens are tied within the second circle, and in the third are people of no use. Evren doesn''t want any humans who cannot pull their weight remaining in his villages-"


    All of a sudden, darkness fell over the sun. The wind died down, but a noise like thunder echoed through the air. Relma gazed upward and thought momentarily that she was looking at a flying continent. But it was a living creature.


    "It''s Lord Bryag!" said Brandus. "Get back! Get back!"


    They ran backward, and Bryag descended from the clouds. As his feet were planted upon the ground, Relma staggered to keep her feet. As he rose, his eyes like fire, the clouds parted from his wings'' beat. A whirlwind seemed to be rising from them, and her hair was flying behind her.


    Then he unleashed his flames.


    The blast was contained within the circle. And yet as it struck downward, Relma recoiled at the heat. They must have been sixty yards away, and yet she felt like she was inches from a roaring hearth. The light of his fire was blinding.


    And then he roared.


    The echo was deafening, and Relma finally lost her feet. She could hear nothing for a few moments later but a hollow ringing.


    And when she looked up, Bryag was gone.


    Wrynncurth blew some smoke rings from where he was sitting on a rock, undisturbed. "...Well, Bryag has certainly grown a great deal.


    "So, who''s hungry?"


    Relma was sure people might have some commentary for that. But everyone was too busy trying to stand up.

 Chapter 367 - Five: Lord Evren

    It took a little while for everyone to regain their composure.


    When they managed it, Relma stood up unsteadily and looked to see that the others were safe. They were. Then she looked around. No mountains had been torn down, no steam indicated boiling oceans, and the sky was a normal color. Relma took these as signs that the world had not ended.


    Thank you, Elranor.


    There were a few immense footprints, however, and the sacrifices were gone.


    Had there been something Relma could have done?


    "So this Lord Evren, where is his lair?" asked Ajax, dusting himself off.


    "Well, old chap, if I remember it, it''ll be up on that cave just below the castle," said Wrynncurth. "Though the castle wasn''t there before." And he led on toward the castle in question.


    The castle proved a huge structure of tall spires with white stone, situated upon a hill. At the base of the hill was a cave from which smoke was flowing.


    "These lands are prosperous and fertile," said Estela. "I''ve never seen anything like it."


    "Well, of course," mused Brandus, walking with them. "The lifeforce of those who are devoured by the reds goes into the land and ensures it grows. Those who sacrifice their lives ensure those they leave behind are prosperous."


    "Something is wrong here," said Jomas.


    "What?" said Estela.


    "No, old people," said Jomas. "No one over forty.


    "Where-"


    "Eaten by the dragons, remember?" said Brandus. "I told you as much. Once you get to a certain age, you''re less useful, so you might as well be removed¡ªthat way, the next generation can take over.


    "It''s the same with anyone born malformed or stupid."


    "That''s..." Estela shifted. "That''s not at all like Escor."


    "Yes, you much prefer to kill eachother off instead," mused Ajax.


    "Battle is a noble profession," said Estela.


    "So is a willing sacrifice to ensure the prosperity of your realm and your place in the afterlife," noted Ajax. "It doesn''t leave nearly as many fields razed, I''ll bet."


    "Well, all this is true, but I''m more interested in Bryag," said Relma, remembering that dragon''s sheer scale. "Tell me, what does everyone think of Bryag?"


    "He is the most powerful of all the Red Dragons and guards all lands equally," said Brandus. "Even those that cannot make sacrifices to him. And it is fortunate that he does, for that sacrifice you saw is the first we''ve had in a decade."


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "Well, Queen Vanessa insisted we do as much," said Brandus. "The truth is, Evren has not provided sacrifices to Bryag in my life before now."


    "You mean to say that Bryag gets nothing from doing all this?" asked Relma.


    "Well, nothing from us," said Brandus. "Lord Evren prefers us to make sacrifices to him and Queen Vanessa instead. Sometimes villages will make sacrifices to Bryag. Of their own volition, of course, when things are really bad.


    "But many of the Lords don''t like them doing that."


    "I wonder why," mused Estela.


    "In any case, Bryag protects," said Brandus.


    Relma wondered how she could use this and what she had to do to avoid treading on local traditions. Obviously, abolishing any of them was beyond her power and a bad idea. Anyway, this adventure was just to give Relma a major accomplishment¡ªsomething that none of the Kings of Harlenor could compare to.


    So long as she accomplished that major, she didn''t care about the Dragon Empire. However, she would much rather leave the place prosperous and ruled well. Even so, she was not planning to slay any dragons.


    "So, do tell me, how many sacrifices does Evren usually command?" asked Relma.


    "Well, I''ve been doing this task my whole life, including my father before him," said Brandus. "It used to be that we''d only have to sacrifice two or three people a year; that was in my grandfather''s day. But, as things got worse, Evren commanded we sacrifice more, five or six a month, and it was when I came of age.


    "But as Durag''s armies became greater, the Lords began to call for more and more sacrifices. We needed more dragons, you see, and the undead wounded the land."


    "Right, the people sacrificed are reincarnated as Red Dragons, correct?" asked Estela.


    "Not all of them," said Brandus. "Most are reincarnated as a higher caste, those who dwell within the castles. They are the personal attendants and warriors of the Red Dragon. When they are sacrificed, they may be found worthy to ascend. If not, they may be reborn within the inner circles, or, if they are sent back, will be returned to the outside."


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    Relma had learned a certain amount of math in Gel Carn. And calculating things, she more or less concluded that it did not work. It couldn''t work if the kind of sacrifices they''d seen were commonplace; it couldn''t work. Castles only needed so many people living there. The dragons were likely even less numerous.


    It didn''t take long to realize that many people were not seeing any improvement in their next lives. But that didn''t seem a wise thing to say to a priest.


    "Can I ask something else?" asked Relma.


    "What is it?" asked Brandus.


    "Who are the Conquista of Anoa?" asked Relma.


    "Oh yes, them," said Brandus. "They are men who came from your land long ago, through the Pass of Dragon Bones. They came seeking horses for Anoa''s army and also to fight the High Elven remnants. We fought them for many years, but we''ve recently made common cause against the Sun Soul Empire and Durag.


    "They wield strange weapons that make huge amounts of noise and can pierce armor. However, they cannot compete with the power of dragons."


    Relma asked a lot more questions on their way to the cave. She managed to learn a great deal about things in the Dragon Empire. Much of it had already been told to them by Ajax and was only confirmed now. Other things directly contradicted his statement, while others provided a different context.


    Estela asked mostly about the armies.


    But, at last, they came to the cave and found it guarded by many armed men with pikes. Their armor was blood red, and masks covered their faces.


    "Are these them, Brandus?" asked the leader.


    "Yes, Bas," said Brandus. "They are the ones Queen Vanessa spoke of.


    Bas nodded. "Good, Lord Evren will see them now."


    And he led them down into the cave.


    Within, it was lit by a dull, red light that gleamed off of vast quantities of gold. And upon that, gold was lying the first dragon. He was far more impressive in this enclosed space, which was saying something. Yet Relma realized Bryag could probably hold Evren''s entire head in one claw.


    "So, these are those sent by Queen Vanessa," said Evren. "I must thank you for destroying so many undead; it will make things far easier in the future. Bryag won''t be necessary for some time yet."


    "Well, I jolly well imagine Bryag might be glad of that," said Wrynncurth ruefully. "What sort of arrangement did you chaps come to that makes it so he continues to help you? From what I heard, he isn''t achieving much."


    "Arrangement?" asked Evren. "Bryag is a fool; that is the only arrangement the others and I need."


    "I wonder if you''d say as much to his face, old chap," said Wrynncurth, and Relma suspected he was very angry indeed.


    "Of course not, he''s more than four times the next largest dragon, but I need not confront him," said Evren. "If he ever truly went after us, every other dragon would unite against him. We''ve prepared all sorts of precautions."


    "I wonder why you need to, seeing as you ought to see him as a Prince," noted Wrynncurth.


    "He had a formidable birthright once, even split with Vanessa," said Evren. "But that has long since all been spent. Now, he relies on us for whatever we give him."


    "And tell me, how was it spent?" asked Wrynncurth.


    "I believe he sought to imitate you, Wrynncurth," said Evren. "Loaning out parts of his hoard to help with building projects and development. He certainly made many loans to myself included."


    "And tell me, have you paid them back? You seem quite rich enough," said Wrynncurth.


    "Of course not," scoffed Evren. "I used it to build some roads and kept most of it for myself. There are records of the transaction, not that it matters." sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I wonder what Queen Vanessa thinks of all this. Worth considering," said Wrynncurth.


    "Bryag is the only other possible ruler of the Dragon Empire," said Evren flatly. "If he''s kept penniless and productive, so much the better for her."


    "So you made a contract with Bryag, never intending to pay it back?" said Estela.


    "If he was stupid enough to give his wealth away, he deserves what he gets," said Evren simply.


    "You gave your word," said Estela.


    "Did I?" asked Evren. "What are words but ink splattered over parchment. What is that to I, or any creature with power? None will cease to do business with me for my cheating of Bryag, for all the world is complicit. He cannot regain his wealth, for he''d face us all. I would be only too glad to see some of my neighbors killed by him; I could take their hoards as well.


    "Nor can he scheme against me, for he is a dimwitted fool.


    "I need not justify my actions, for the strong do as they like, and the weak can only accept it. Bryag is weak and so deserves what has happened to him."


    "...You''re a cheat," said Jomas flatly.


    Relma wondered how far their chances of survival had dropped and what they had been, to begin with.


    Estela stared at Jomas in horror. Evren glared at him as Jomas stepped forward. "What?"


    "I said you''re a cheat. A swindler," said Jomas. "A conman. A bandit with red scales and teeth. A petty usurper laying claim to that which he has no right. You don''t deserve to be called a Lord; you don''t deserve anything.


    "You should be hung at the gallows like any other thief. You and the rest of your pack of outlaws."


    This made Evren somewhat angry.


    Relma could tell because he rose from his bed and roared. The sound echoed throughout the cave. Her ears rang with it, as Jomas stood in front of him, staring up.


    "You dare!" roared Evren, opening his mouth and giving a view of the flames he could belch forward. "...Were you not under the direct protection of Queen Vanessa, I would kill you where you stand."


    "If strength is all that matters, why are you angry?" asked Jomas.


    Dead silence followed as Evren closed his mouth. He looked at Jomas for a long moment, and then his eyes widened for a moment. Evren recoiled visibly, just slightly, then went back to his bed.


    Wryncurth made a concerned noise. "...Eloquently put old chap. Not wise and poorly timed, but eloquent."


    "Enough of this," said Evren. "You and your ilk cease to amuse me, Wrynncurth. I have arranged for a ship to take you right to the Conquista of Anoa. For all the good it may do you."


    "Lord Evren, may I ask a question?" asked Relma suddenly.


    Estela put her face in her hands. Evren, however, glanced at her. "What is it, child?"


    "What are your views on the Conquista of Anoa?" asked Relma.


    Evren scoffed. "They are dangerous but of little use to us. They worship as King called Anoa and proclaim his Heir shall return to them. When I was young, I was part of an effort to seize back the island, but nothing came of it.


    "Although my father did die, and I inherited a great deal of wealth from that. So, there was some silver lining.


    "Take them to their ship, Bas. I have wealth to polish."


    Well, they''d almost all died horribly. But you couldn''t call the mission a failure. Yet. As soon as they were out of fire breath range, Relma took Jomas and Estela to one side.


    "We need to talk," said Relma.


    "About what?" asked Jomas morosely.


    "We''re not here to slay dragons," said Relma. "We are not here to start a war. We don''t want to rewrite the map. All we want to do is learn and see if any opportunities are worth taking."


    "What about those people who were burned alive?" asked Estela.


    "This isn''t our country, Estela," said Relma. "How long are we going to be around? If we start a fight now, don''t we have an obligation to finish it?


    "No one is to play the hero without consulting the others."


    "I uh... rather agree with Relma in this matter," said Wrynncurth. "Very brave, but not the brightest move you ever made, Jomas old chap."


    "It had to be said," said Jomas.


    "Where is Ajax?" asked Estela suddenly.


    It turned out he''d been waiting from the cave''s mouth, where he could dodge the fire breath, which was probably the smartest move anyone had made today. Relma wished she''d thought of it.

 Chapter 368 - Six: Pirates on the Sea

    A few days later, Relma liked their journey far better.


    The seas beneath the vessel provided by Evren were serene and calm. They were reflecting the morning light. Against the reddish backdrop, it was like fire on the horizon. It was distantly burning on the mountain walls. The wind brought with it the scent of salt, and the air was cool beneath it. Relma had never seen the sea before, but Estela claimed it was far different in Escor. The waves crashed violently therey, and the water was cold, butit was wonderful hereul.


    "Sea of Horses is so calm," said Relma, breathing in the fresh hair.


    "Yes, well, the sea here is surrounded by mountains on every side," said Ajax, "so it''s technically inland. Vrengar raised them up long ago to seal things off, though there are a few Sornian ports to the north.


    "I have a map here if you want?"


    And he drew it out and passed it to Relma. She took it and looked over it. It was a nice map of the nation, though the Sun Soul Empire didn''t seem filled in. From the looks of things, there were several large islands off the coast of the Dragon Empire.


    It was in a similar position to Estal. You could raid just about anywhere from it.


    Judging from the location, the Dragon Empire had a huge advantage over Highwatch. Highwatch itself was in a mountainous peninsula leading into a hilly region. But the Conquista of Anoa could easily sail anywhere on the coast and raid. Or, if they wanted to raid the Sun Soul Empire, they could go downriver and raid along that. The river, Bryag''s River, led into the Southmost Mountains and the sea beyond.


    Of course, that left the question of where all the undead had come from. It seemed like the sort of thing someone would call upon as an escalation. It was a desperate act to keep a hostile power from taking everything over. Adrianeth had been called upon in Southern Gel Carn in a similar situation.


    The Dusk Lands were a living testament to that kind of mass destruction. Relma was determined that wouldn''t happen here. Not if she could stop it.


    "Why is it called the sea of horses anyway?" asked Relma.


    "Apparently," said Ajax. "The horses fled overseas to several islands. And the Gods let in the sea to block the pursuing Harlenorians."


    "Where did you get this?" asked Relma.


    "I stole it," said Ajax with a shrug.


    "Ajax!" said Relma.


    "What?" said Ajax. "We''re technically at war with these people, and they hunt wolves."


    "That doesn''t mean we should be stealing from them," said Relma.


    "Maybe not," said Ajax, "but it doesn''t mean we can''t."


    "But I-" Relma gave up. They were probably miles and miles away from wherever he got this. She looked over to where Estela and Jomas were standing some ways off. Those two had been getting a lot closer. "Estela, Jomas, how are you doing?"


    "I still have some aches from facing those we were grabbed by those undead," said Estela. "It still hurts."


    "I''m fine," said Jomas.


    Relma moved over to him and wondered if he was putting on a brave face, actually fine or unaware he was not fine. His expression didn''t change much, always somber and contemplative. "Jomas, can I ask you something. Why did you flare up against Evren like that? It could have gotten us killed."


    "He deserved to hear it," said Jomas.


    "Yes, but it could have killed us all and caused our quest to fail," said Relma.


    "I''m a knight," said Jomas flatly. "Knights speak the truth."


    "Yes, but they could choose not to speak the truth at the worst possible moment," said Relma.


    "He deserved to hear it," said Jomas with a shrug.


    "And did we deserve to be killed because of your recklessness?" asked Estela flatly. Then she stalked off.


    "I would have won," said Jomas.


    "He''d have melted you and your armor instantly," said Estela.


    "I''d have gotten him with my hammer," said Jomas.


    "At the expense of your life," said Relma.


    "Me living is a problem," said Jomas with a shrug.


    Relma was unsure how to react to that for a moment. She wondered why Jomas would say that but wasn''t sure what to say. "What do you mean?"


    "Estela doesn''t want to marry me," said Jomas. "If I die, she doesn''t have to."


    "Well, you can''t just let yourself get killed because of that!" said Relma.


    "I wasn''t," said Jomas flatly. "I was going to kill Evren. What he did was wrong."


    Why was Jomas so confident about all this? Did he think he could have killed Evren with the one stroke he''d be able to get off? "Look, just try to avoid starting any more fights with huge dragons in the future."


    And then Wrynncurth landed behind them, looking very pleased with himself. He stretched out his neck, and the sound of cracking could be heard as he stretched his jaw. "Ah, yes, I''m finally back to flying! My thanks to you, Captain."


    "You''ve recovered at last?" asked Relma, walking over to them. He''d been a bit weak for a while, even having a sick spell. He''d put a lot of himself into their escape.


    "More or less," said Wrynncurth. "I had to make a snack of a few undead, but once I''d devoured them, I had my power restored. Being in combat helped get the blood running again. Still, might want


    At that moment, the Captain of the ship came forward. The crew had been sure not to speak with them save when necessary. Only occasionally did they communicate, and it was only for important information.


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    "Lord Wrynncurth, we''ve spotted ships from the Conquista of Anoa ahead," said one. "They are flying the colors of piracy."


    Relma did look there and saw the vessels heading toward them. They were like the Harlenorian ships Relma had seen pictures of. Yet there was more rope and vast numbers of men ready for war. And they had a great black flag above them, a symbol of piracy she had read of: the sickle and skull.


    "Colors of piracy, old chap?" asked Wrynncurth, sounding cheerfully bemused.


    "Yes, it means they intend to seize our ship by force," said the Captain. "If we allow them on, they''ll take only part of the cargo. If we resist, they''ll kill us all.


    "We''ll have to slow down."


    "Are you not at peace with them?" asked Estela.


    "Not with these; they''re from the islands of Asacar," said the Captain. "They''ve never accepted the truce. They''re to the north and often raid shipping."


    "And you mean to let them land?" asked Estela. "Are you not going to fight?"


    "Of course not, I don''t intend to fight with these if I can avoid it," said Estela.


    "Coward," scoffed Estela. "Well, I intend to resist, and if you don''t fight with me, you''ll be killed like sheep."


    "What?" said the Captain. "But you can''t do that! Look at them! They are armed to the teeth, with armor and bows!"


    "Then we''ll die gloriously," said Estela, drawing her sword.


    "Estela, these are potential allies," said Relma. "What if killing them causes problems later?"


    "What, so we are to lie down and let them rob us?" asked Estela. "I think not; House Vortegex does not cower!"


    "They''ve raised the red flag now!" said a man in panic. "Now they''ll kill us all no matter what we do! Why did Evren withdraw our escort!"


    Probably because of Jomas, actually.


    The ships were closing fast now as men scurried this way and that. They were arming themselves or checking rigging.


    "Then I suggest you help us kill them first," said Estela, before going down. Coming back, she strung her bow and drew it back. As she did, an arrow lodged itself in the deck.


    Estela scowled, then pulled back an arrow and launched it. The arrow shot over the waves and caught a man in the eye. Then she drew back another one and shot another.


    The pirates responded, but virtually all of their arrows went wide. It was difficult to fire over this range, though not for Estela. One after another, the men fell to arrows, and not one missed.


    "We have no choice now," said Wrynncurth. "Well done, old girl."


    "Captain, tell your men to arm themselves and prepare to do battle!" snapped Esela, firing another shot. It caught a man through the throat. By now, the crew onboard the ship were in a panic. "Are you men or mice? Stand firm and do battle with them!"


    Now, the ships were closing toward them rapidly. One of them got ahead, and ropes were thrown over. Relma went to get Lightning Trail. Even as she did, the enemy leaped over. Jomas smote one with his hammer in midair. Two arrows lodged in his shield as Estela shot two dead with her bow. More men were coming over the deck, and one of the crew was disarmed and stabbed.


    As he fell, screaming, Relma leaped to his side and lay hands on him. His wounds healed and she gave him back his sword. The sound of screaming and fighting was all around her, and she saw bodies falling onto the deck. Estela was now wielding her sword and cutting a man''s throat. Relma saw another man fall back, stabbed in the shoulder.


    As he slid to the ground screaming, Relma rushed toward him. A smiling pirate swung a sword, but she rolled under it and got to the man. Laying on their hands, she healed him before catching a glint from her right eye. Ducking, she felt something pass over where her neck had been. Rolling to one side, she drew Lightning Trail and parried two blows.


    Then, the man she''d healed stabbed her attacker and went into the fray. Looking around, Relma saw others to heal and went to them. As she did, she saw they were winning. The enemy crew was dying faster, not expecting such resistance. And those that fell on their side did not rise again. Relma, one healer, was making a huge difference in things. Jomas was healing them now and then as well. Two-thirds of the enemy crew were now dead and many wounded, while Relma''s side was intact.


    A proper healer made a real difference in battle.


    But the other two enemy ships were nearing as a shadow passed over them all. The men halted their fighting and looked up, faces pale.


    And then Bryag dropped out of the skies. Descending, he breathed downward a wave of flame toward the ships. It caught the leading ship head-on, and it burst into flame. The ocean water boiled beneath the onslaught. Waves crashed against their ship, throwing the deck this way and that. As Bryag turned in midair, his claws cut through the ocean. The impact sent a vast wave toward them.


    Men leaped to the deck, clinging to whatever they could as the wave hit them head-on. Relma was clinging to the mast for a moment, and then it was over. Looking up, she saw a great, steaming inferno where a ship once had been. Briefly, Relma saw the silhouette of the vessel. Then the flames cleared, and there was nothing left.


    Nothing but smoke and steam, rising up to obscure everything in sight.


    It was like hell itself had opened a portal in the center. And beyond it, she could hear the other ships'' screams of alarm and horror. People were screaming Bryag''s name in horror.


    "Um, that was..." said Relma.


    "Explosive," said Wrynncurth. "Well done, Bryag, old chap!"


    "Hail, Bryag!" said a man.


    "Hail Bryag!" said the rest and the cry went up with cheers.


    "Enough," said the Captain, who had his head together. "If our enemies are alive, they''ve surely lost heart, and we''re obscured from view. Turn to starboard; we''ll get some distance while we can."


    Wrynncurth, however, looked somewhat put out. "He saw me twice now but didn''t even swoop down to say hello." S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''m sure Bryag didn''t recognize you," said Relma quickly. "I mean, it has been two hundred years. Maybe he thinks you''ve grown to a huge size or something."


    "A nice enough thought," said Wrynncurth. "But I''m going to go see what happened to the other two ships." And he soared into the air again.


    Relma looked to where Estela was looking at her quiver. Estela''s expression was both annoyed and disappointed. She seemed to be counting her arrows with one finger. "...Are you alright, Estela?"


    "Yes, fine," said Estela, sighing.


    "You really wanted to fight the pirates, didn''t you?" asked Relma.


    "Shut up," said Estela. "I lost five arrows. And if I''d waited five minutes, Bryag would have fried them. And no one is ever going to remember my archery.


    "I mean, did you see that? I caught him in the eye on my first shot! Garrick would never be able to do that, I''ll."


    "We can set up an archery contest after we finish stopping a full-scale war," said Relma.


    "Don''t patronize me, Relma," said Estela. "You are my squire."


    "I was being serious," said Relma. "What''s wrong with an archery contest."


    They saw no more of the pirates. Wrynncurth came back later and reported that the other two vessels had survived. However, they had apparently decided not to fight Bryag and turned to run away, which was probably the only intelligent move, given the circumstances.


    Even so, Wrynncurth was out of sorts for days and days after it happened. Relma often caught him pacing restlessly or scouring the skies. Sometimes he''d disappear for an entire day and fly inward, only to come back.


    Relma wondered if he was looking for Bryag. Privately, she began to doubt that Bryag had not seen him. After all, he''d seen them twice and seemed to have taken a personal step.


    "Wrynncurth, is everything alright?" Relma finally asked. Why hadn''t he helped? Did he consider himself neutral in all this?


    "Bryag and I always used to be close," said Wrynncurth. Closer than Vanessa and me, even. He used to idolize me when he was a hatchling.


    "I hope he doesn''t resent me for what happened. I really will have to do something about this whole thing later. Still, for now-"


    "Land ahoy! The island of Anoa''s Command lies before us!" cried a man.


    "At last," said Estela. "We can get this over with."


    Well, it had been an eventful voyage. But overall, it was very nice.


    Relma decided she liked sea travel.


    So she set to work healing the injured and saved many lives.


    Unfortunately, the Captain ordered all the prisoners executed so they would not seek revenge.

 Chapter 369 - Seven: Vacasia

    Before them lay the port of Vacasia upon the island of Anoa''s Command. It was, according to their guides, one of the richest and commonly frequented ports. You could see almost a dozen vessels within the piers at first glance. But there were also a great many smaller fishing ships on closer inspection. There were people of several races fishing by the waterside, or selling goods at the edge.


    Estela looked with interest as they neared the pier. The buildings here were very well built indeed, with reddish roofs. A wall protected the harbor, and men stood by with many arrows as they walked beneath the towers'' gaze. Estela saw a number of great, iron bell-like things on those towers, pointed out to seat. Men stood by them, and she realized they were canon.


    Estela had heard of the use of canon at sea in recent battles in the Sea of Power. But how had they gotten to this isolated and forsaken place? It was a question she''d have to solve later. For not, she turned her attention to the ships in the port.


    There were dozens of them, and the port wasn''t even full. Obviously, this was a place used to entertaining fleets.


    "These ships are very different from the kind we have in Escor; they''re lower on the water," mused Estela. Her gaze was focused largely on fortifications and such.


    "Well, of course, they are," said Wrynncurth. "The seas here are far calmer with the mountains surrounding them. I''m surprised you only just noticed them."


    "I''d assumed it was a cultural thing, but these men are Harlenorian," said Estela. Though their skin was tanner and hair darker than any Harlenorian she''d met. Had they interbred with the natives?


    "You may regard them as such, old girl," said Wrynncurth. "But I should be hesitant to say a much. Relma, you''ll need to translate for us."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "Vanessa gave us the power to speak with any of her subjects," said Wrynncurth. "However, the Conquista speaks a variant of Harlenorian. So you''ll likely have a bit of trouble talking with them. Fortunately, you, Relma, have divine power and may speak to anyone."


    "Can''t you?" asked Relma.


    "Oh yes, but it''s rather a bit beneath me to act as a translator," said Wrynncurth, taking a draft of his pipe.


    Estela looked back to the white buildings, some with domes. There was also a building toward the center of the town whose roof was gilded. She wondered if it was a temple and how they were that prosperous. Beyond, on the shores, Estela could see many fields being worked by tan-skinned people.


    Still, there was a clear difference in build between those working and those who were farming. Such differences weren''t uncommon in Harlenor. But Estela suspected that they were a different race. Perhaps it was a slave society like those in the Islands of Power?


    "These buildings are truly beautiful; I''ve never seen anything like them," said Relma. Estela felt a sense of resentment at that particular statement. While Escor was more practical erected, due to all the wars, simplicity was better anyway. And if you were into something more ornate, Gel Carn was far preferable.


    Estela remembered the palace of Arsheen, with all it''s heathen pictures and statues. Why Vanion Gabriel had not had them destroyed was beyond her. Calishan relics weren''t worth preserving anyway. But then, House Gabriel had a fascination with darkness, didn''t they? By the nature of his armor, William Gabriel had shown it, forged to appears as a skeletal figure with glowing green eyes.


    The question was not relevant at the moment.


    "Yes, yes, they are," mused Wrynncurth. "They weren''t nearly so pretty when I came here last. Back then, they''d been in a non-stop war with everyone else. Everything was made for practicality and little else.


    "The Conquista was fighting with some native rebellions, I gather. A large part of the population was enslaved in the old days, you see. Prisoners of war. A very bloody affair, unpleasant for all involved. It looks like they somewhat resolved it, though."


    "What do you think changed?" asked Estela, curious as to this place now.


    "Well, if I were to make a guess, I''d say it would be their alliance with Vanessa," said Wrynncurth, the ship halting now. "Now that I think of it, I did recommend befriending some of the other powers. I suppose she took my advice."


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    "Look, over there!" said Relma.


    Estela did look and saw something remarkable. A man, a full-grown human, was riding through the streets upon a huge animal, like how halflings did wolves. Yet this creature was no wolf, but a thing with hooves and a long face. It had brown fur and a mane running along the top of its head.


    "What is that?" asked Relma. "Some sort of giant goat?"


    "No, a goat doesn''t have so long a head and cannot move nearly so fast," mused Estela.


    "Then what is it?" asked Relma.


    "Oh yes, those are horses," said Wrynncurth.


    "Horses?" asked Estela, remembering the old legends of elven warriors. They''d ridden into battle on horseback, striking with lightning speed. Which was all they were, legends? "Impossible, King Anoa, the Bright wiped them out."


    "Evidently not," said Ajax, sniffing the air. "They seem to be riding them even now.


    "My kin tell me some who escaped to these lands and regained a sustainable population. They fled here, to this place, and Alchara brought in the sea to defend them. It seems the Conquista has tamed them.


    "No doubt that''s why the Conquista did as well as they did against the dragons. They could outrun their enemies."


    "Where have you been?" asked Estela.


    "Sleeping late," said Ajax, adjusting the sword at his side. He''d been a lot more confident with that sword lately.


    Estela shrugged. "Relma, if a translation is necessary, you will repeat what I say."


    "I understand," said Relma.


    Then Estela looked to Jomas. "Jomas, say nothing and no provoking them this time; we need these people."


    The people Estela spoke of were waiting at the pier.


    They were a group of ten men with pikes and steel armor. Their helmets had fins upon them with a metal mask. At their head was a portly, tan-skinned man clad in crimson. Wrynncurth eyed them as the gangplank was thrown down.


    "We appear to have an audience, chaps," said Wrynncurth.


    Estela motioned forward to Relma, who moved down and spoke to them. Estela wondered what it was like, speaking a language you''d never trained in. The man replied, and Relma looked back.


    "Who is this? What is he saying?" asked Estela.


    "He is Sadago, a Customs Officer of their King, Gormath," said Relma. "It''s a very important position, I think. They''re asking us who we are and where we came from?"


    "Tell him who we are and that we have come from Harlenor, the nation of Anoa. Tell them that we are on a quest to find the Dragonfire shield," said Estela.


    Relma did as much. The man paused and then spoke in turn.


    "Well?" asked Relma.


    "Sadago says that he is not sure he believes you," said Relma. "No one has come from Harlenor in many years, not since Prince Otto''s invasion. He wants to know how you got past Queen Vanessa''s lands."


    "Tell him the truth," said Estela, seeing no purpose in lying.


    Relma nodded and told the story. It took a while, even in brief, and Relma seemed to enjoy telling it. Sadago listened, hand fingering his black beard. At last, he spoke, and Relma relayed as much. "Sadago says that he does not believe he has the authority to judge on this, and so he wants us to return to our ship. He will gain his King''s preference."


    "Tell him that we are thankful for his consideration," said Estela, quickly bowing.


    Relma nodded and did so.


    Then, Sadago left, leaving his men to eye them distrustfully. Relma looked to Estela. "What now?"


    "Now we wait," said Estela. "Though I should be able to speak this. They are Harlenorian."


    "Languages change a great dead, old girl," said Wrynncurth. "They''ve been here for many generations.


    "You may share a common ancestry, but that may be all you share."


    Estela nodded and came to the obvious conclusion. "This is never going to work.


    "They aren''t going to hand the Dragonfire Shield over to us just because we ask for it."


    "Maybe they''ll tell us to perform some sort of quest," mused Relma.


    "Probably one that is impossible, if we''re lucky," said Estela, considering the situation. "They''ll probably just give us a flat refusal. It''s what I would do."


    "Well, not everyone is like us, and they are waiting for the Heir of Anoa," said Relma. "Maybe they''ll give us a chance." Ever the unreasonable optimist. Then again, Relma''s optimism had a strange way of working. Perhaps it was her status as the Heir of Kings.


    Then a horrible thought occurred to Estela. What if Relma had told them she was the Heir of Kings. That could get them all killed or imprisoned or held to impossible expectations at best. "Relma, you didn''t tell them who you were, did you?"


    "You told me to tell them who we are," said Relma.


    "Obviously, not that!" said Estela. What had she been thinking?! This could wreck everything!


    Relma looked a bit irritated at that. "Oh, I''m sorry. I thought when you wanted me to tell them who we were, you wanted me to tell them who we were. Would you have preferred I not tell them who we are?"


    "I would have preferred you to introduce yourself as my squire and nothing else," said Estela. Why was it that Relma had to steal the attention wherever she went? Everything always ended up revolving around her.


    Then again, it had seen Escor growing stronger than ever. And destiny, luck, or skill, it seemed to be working.


    "I did," said Relma. "I told them I was Relma Artorious, a descendant of Anoa and your squire."


    "Well, why would you tell them you were the Heir of Kings at all?" asked Estela. Didn''t Relma have any sense at all? Estela knew she wasn''t an egotist or the sort to steal credit. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It gives us something to bargain with," said Relma. "And I wasn''t thinking about it, to be honest." She paused and looked around. "If you''d told me to withhold the information, I would have.


    "...Where''s Ajax?"


    "Hmm, he was..." Estela looked around and could not see any sign of the wolf boy. "Wrynncurth, do you know where he is?"


    Wrynncurth shook his head.


    A search then ensued that turned up nothing. Not on the deck, now below deck, and not even in the water. Ajax was gone, alongside his pack and poisons and everything else he''d gone. Even his sword, though he never used it. Estela guessed that he''d leaped off the ship when no one was looking.


    How had no one heard the splash? He might have lowered himself down very quietly. Ajax seemed to have a knack for appearing and disappearing without notice. Usually at the worst possible time.


    Although his kidnapping of Relma years ago might have been useful in the long run. And Estela did have some trust for his loyalty. Not the same for his judgment, however.


    As if they didn''t have problems enough.


    "Where did he go?" asked Relma.


    "I expect he leaped off the ship and swam to shore," said Estela. "We''ll hear from him once he speaks with the local wolves."


    "Telix has colonized a lot of areas here, hasn''t he?" asked Relma.


    "Why do you think we throw his broods out of the Fairy Forest?" asked Estela. "Relma, did you introduce him?"


    "I um, I forgot with him not here," said Relma quickly.


    This could cause some serious problems. Still, perhaps Estela could improvise a solution. Wrynncurth, of course, seemed unaffected. Estela was glad of the fact. When he had a reaction, it meant things were very, very serious.


    "Sadago is coming back," said Wrynncurth, taking his pipe out. "He seems to have brought a jolly large amount of armed guards, hasn''t he?"


    Estela sighed as they went back to meet Sadago, who bowed respectfully. Or at least Estela hoped it was respectfully; they might have different customs here. Everyone in this land was insane, after all. "Alright, let''s see what new disaster we''ve gotten into this time."


    Sadago spoke, and Relma translated. "Sadago says we are to be taken to King Gormath, whether we want it or not. He asks us not to resist."


    Estela sighed. "Wonderful."


    This adventure got worse by the day.

 Chapter 370 - Eight: King Gormath

    They were led inland along busy streets that were paved with tan stones and well cleaned. The people of this place seemed well-fed, a marked contrast to some of those in the Dragon Empire. There were several working water pump like the one Estela had seen in Antion and the bars had priests preaching to those who drank. People looked up at them, and Wrynncurth, in particular, with interest but not hatred. Wrynncurth seemed to take the attention with good cheer. Whether or not he felt cheerful was another question.


    Though he did wave, so perhaps it was genuine. He seemed interested in the streets and vendors around them. The guards flanking them prevented any attempt to talk to others, unfortunately. So Estela remained troubled. She''d have liked to learn a bit more about this place.


    Actually, Estela had noticed something. The weapons some of the guards were using weren''t pikes. They looked almost like clubs, except with a blade on end. They had them rested against a shoulder.


    "Who is this King Gormath we are going to see anyway, Relma?" asked Estela. She''d like to know something about him before she was in his house.


    Relma quickly asked Sadago as much and got a response. She translated it, and the two seemed to get on well. Relma looked back. "Well, I talked with them. It seems that King Gormath is the youngest King they''ve ever had. He came to power when the Sun Soul Empire slew his father in battle and took his soul for their pyres. Vowing vengeance, King Gormath journeyed to the lair of Queen Vanessa.


    "There he brooked an alliance from which many great battles were won. The Sun Soul Empire was driven into the southeastern jungles. However, in recent years they have made an alliance with Durag, the Dark Lord."


    "Who is this, Durag?" asked Estela. "Have you met him, Wrynncurth?"


    "Afraid not, old girl," said Wrynncurth. "Last time I was here, he was a chieftain of the dwarves of Highwatch. Jolly powerful one too.


    "I gather he must have gone into the immortality business while I was gone. Jolly unfortunate that I didn''t meet him; I might have an idea of what he wants."


    "Right," said Relma.


    "What about the horses?" asked Estela. "I was under the impression the horses had vowed never to serve humanity? How did he gain their loyalty?"


    Relma asked and got her answer. It took some time for Sadago to explain it and looked back. "He says that the horses were often hunted by red dragons. Apparently, they were considered a delicacy. By aligning themselves with the Conquista, they were able to gain protection.


    "Together, they were able to cooperate in fighting against the dragons."


    "Interesting enough," said Wrynncurth. "Though I heard it once or twice before. Ask him about Durag, would you Relma?"


    Relma did ask as much, again, and Sadago responded in a rather lengthy explanation. By the time he finished, they had gone beyond the town and were scaling a hill. At the top stood a majestic, tan-walled fortress with many spires. Around it were bountiful fields as well.


    "Durag apparently rose to power a few hundred years ago," said Relma. "He was once a general of the Dwarves of Highwatch. He won many great victories against the Sun Soul Empire and saved many people from their pyres.


    "He also was a great loremaster. Durag learned to created magnificent weapons such as muskets and cannons. The first of which was sold to the Conquista."


    "Muskets?" asked Estela.


    "The weapons these men hold," said Relma. "They are like crossbows but fire a sphere of iron at short range." Estela looked to what she had taken as a melee weapon, some combination of spear and club. It had a steel barrel as well. Sadago said something, and the group halted.


    Relma nudged Estela. "He''s going to demonstrate."


    Sadago drew up one of the rifles and pointed it upwards. Then he pulled a trigger on end, and there was a noise like thunder. Smoke poured out around them, and Estela frowned. "All that smoke for one shot?"


    "I remember something about steam cannons in the Sea of Power," said Ajax, coughing. "But nothing like this. How did he make it fire on such a small scale?"


    Sadago spoke quickly, and Relma listened. His voice was proud as he said whatever it was he was saying. Estela thought she could pick out a number of common aspects of the language.


    "Gunpowder," said Relma. "He says that Durag came across the recipe while seeking the formula to eternal life. And Vrengar forged the guns that use it. The weapons are inaccurate and completely ineffective against magic. However, they are useful for breaking poorly organized troops. And their smoke provides cover.


    "They won many great victories against the Sun Soul Empire after it was devised."


    "Then why don''t the Dragons use it?" asked Estela.


    Relma paused to ask. "Apparently, the Dragons are less than concerned with advancing their ground forces. Their militaries are designed to ensure order. Other than that, the dragons generally just use them to keep enemies in place long enough to flame them."


    Sadago said something more then, and Relma translated. "King Gormath is working to create new formations that allow the guns to be more effective. He''s already fought a pitched battle with the islands to the north of here and won. And also conducted several raids on Highwatch fortifications."


    "What happened to Durag?" asked Estela, who doubted it would ever catch on.


    "Eventually, his experiments went too far, and he was exiled. He fled with his clan into distant lands and performed unholy ceremonies," said Relma. "In so doing, he attained immortality at the cost of his soul.


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    "Now his undead roam far and wide across the mainland, seizing men to perform his experiments on. And none who have yet walked into his fortress of Khas Khan have returned alive."


    "Well, that seems a bit of a jump," said Wrynncurth. "How does one go from creating experiments for your warriors to undead Dark Lord?"


    "Over the course of a few hundred years," said Relma, after asking Sadago as much. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Oh right, good point," said Wrynncurth.


    "So what about this Sun Soul Empire?" asked Estela. "What is this about their pyres?"


    "They are an Empire that believes in blood sacrifice," said Relma. "They are constantly conducting raids to seize old men and women. They take experienced warriors captive and love to seize dragons.


    "All, once captured, are burned alive, their souls disappearing with their bodies."


    "Well, that''s wrong," said Estela simply. "You can''t destroy a soul."


    "Should I say that?" asked Relma doubtfully.


    "Yes," said Relma.


    There was a pause.


    "Sadago understands not believing him," said Relma. "He says that they do not know what happens to the souls of those who are seized. However, they do not make it to the afterlife of Vrengar or reincarnate. We do know that the Sun Soul Empire prefers to seize people who have lived longer. In a best-case scenario, they have lived several lives."


    "Ask him-" began Estela.


    And then she realized they had come to the gates. They were huge with the same tan stone, and the towers had domed roofs. Men were patrolling the walks with guns and armor and there was a merchant speaking with the gate guard. He was well-dressed, better than most in Escor and Estela felt a sense of jealousy.


    Why should these people be so well off and Escor behind?


    The postern gate was opened for them at once. Entering within, Estela looked around and found the place very well organized. There appeared to be a place where a lot of horses were stored, and in a field, a man was riding on in circles. He was thin and had dark hair, tan skin, and red eyes and wore black cloth with a silver chain around his neck.


    As Sadago came forward, the man dismounted from the horse and set a hand to his sword. He spoke to Sadago, then to Relma, who looked back. "King Gormath welcomes us to the castle of Medrigo, the center of the Conquista of Anoa. If I am the Heir of Kings, and the one who is chosen by prophecy, he will gladly hand over the Dragonscale Shield. But he doubts that we are who we say we are.


    "I don''t think he believes we are who we say they are."


    Once again, Relma was the chief guest. Estela was getting well and truly sick of this. "Tell him that you are the Heir of Kings, just as I am the Princess of Escor. If he will set a task for us, I shall complete it, or die trying."


    Relma spoke, and Gormath laughed before replying. Estela wondered if she had been insulted, and if so, how best to avenge herself. "Gormath thinks you are too fast to pledge eternal service to a quest and reckless."


    "Does he have a quest for us to complete, or not?" asked Estela.


    Relma spoke, and Estela hoped she said that politely. At last, Relma looked back. "Gormath will give us what we want.


    "To prove ourselves worthy of the Dragonscale Shield, we must make our way back across the sea, to the Dark Land. There we must destroy Durag, the Dark Lord."


    "Fine, when do we start?" asked Estela.


    She waited for a moment.


    Then Relma spoke. "After we help him find Ajax, who escaped into the forests. Some of the shepherds saw him, or at least someone who looked like him. He jumped the ship and explored inland."


    "We''ll do that too," said Estela with a sigh.


    Gormath eyed Estela with a smile, and feeling his gaze, Estela resisted the urge to look away. He was very handsome and had a scar on his neck. He spoke, and Relma listened.


    "King Gormath wishes to show us something," said Relma.


    "Lead on," said Estela.


    This was going to be trouble, wasn''t it?


    As it turned out, trouble led into the place with all the horses. They were huge up close, most of them having a mix of colors on their pelts, brown and white. But one or two were pure white or black, or brown. Gormath petted one affectionately, whispering into its ears as he did so. He obviously liked the creatures, but Estela did not. They could be considered beautiful, but what sort of man did not fight on foot?


    To use horses was the way of elves and degenerates who lacked the nerve to fight with their men?


    "The royal stables of House Gormath," said Relma. "King Gormath wishes to offer us the use of the horses here."


    "Horses? I don''t ride into battle," said Estela quickly. "I fight on foot like a knight. Respectfully decline his generous offer." Best not to antagonize Gormath.


    Relma did as much, and Gormath looked up in surprise. "Gormath is surprised that we don''t want it. After all, horses were the entire reason the Conquista was formed."


    What?


    "Ask him for context on that," said Estela.


    Relma spoke to Gormath, who responded in kind. "When Anoa the Bright rose in power, the horse clans fled south from him. Gormath''s ancestor, Gorman, led an army on behalf of Anoa to retrieve them. Sir Orson gifted him with the Dragonfire Shield, and together they won many victories.


    "Over time, they were cut off and settled. But hey still hold to their oath and mean to one day return with horses to Harlenor."


    "Why haven''t they tried before now?" asked Estela.


    When Relma asked the question of Gormath, the King paused and looked distant. He spoke at last while running his hands through a white horse. Relma looked back. "The spell that scattered the languages of all people prevented us. And they were enemies with the Dragon Empire for an age. And they could not abandon their settlements to find them.


    "In fact, that was why Gormath chose to make an alliance with the Dragon Empire. He''d hoped to eventually get the word through."


    Estela shifted nervously, wondering how best to handle this. "I would prefer to find Ajax on foot, to be honest. My people have fought as such their entire existence, and I''m not sure I''d do better on horseback."


    Relma spoke to Gormath, who nodded. "King Gormath understands.


    "Still, he''s uncertain of your decision to head out so quickly. You might stay the night.


    "There are wild horses in the island''s inner part, who might not like your presence."


    "They''d like Ajax''s presence even less," said Estela.


    Gormath frowned after Relma spoke. "King Gormath wants to know what your associate is doing here?"


    "Probably contacting all the wolves on the island," said Estela. "He prefers to talk to them."


    "He''s not fond of wolves," said Relma, translating Gormath. "They often prey on livestock and even people during bad winters."


    "Tell him that Ajax is a rational actor, just reckless," said Estela.


    Gormath nodded and spoke after a moment. "King Gormath wants us to be careful. The Panther woman like within the jungles inland. They often prey on those who wander too far in."


    Estela nodded and smiled. "We''ll be careful."


    One quest after another. At least she had an excuse to see the rest of the island now. Estela was becoming more interested in this place.

 Chapter 371 - Nine: Nyx

    Relma had to admit that she enjoyed her time in King Gormath''s castle, but it was brief. The halls within it were kept warm by many animal skins, and there was proof of many hunts. The food was excellent, and King Gormath proved a hospitable host indeed.


    During this time, she learned a bit about the history of the Conquista. Apparently, the Conquista peasants originated from the Sun Soul Empire. Many of them had ancestors in the conquered peoples of the Conquista. By now, the intermarriage between the various races had created something new.


    King Gormath himself spent most of his time working. Most of his days were spent in an office, reading, affixing his seal to measures, and other things. And his servants seemed to like him a great deal.


    It probably helped that she could speak the language, thanks to Elranor. She did her best to give Estela a sense of it. However, that proved problematic since Relma did not know how to speak to her. Her voice, as a servant of Elranor, was naturally translated.


    Thus, Relma ended up doing virtually all of the communication¡ªat least until Wrynncurth began to pick bits and pieces of it up; he did so quickly, for apparently, he''d been down this way before. So much of what he was learning, he was actually remembering.


    By the time Relma and Estela departed to find Ajax. Wrynncurth had learned or perhaps remembered enough to remain behind and study. Jomas stayed with him, though Relma wasn''t sure why.


    Estela and Relma stood by the castle gates, about to leave. King Gormath, however, came out to meet her. "Are you truly in earnest, going into the jungle alone? I could provide you with a guide."


    "Estela, King Gormath is asking us if we intend to enter the jungle," said Relma. "He''s offering us a guide and doesn''t seem to think this is a good idea."


    "Tell him that we appreciate his concern," said Estela. "However, I wish to find my companion, and I can track him well enough."


    Relma translated.


    "Very well," said Gormath, nodded in concern. "But you should beware the Queen of the Jaguar, Nyx. She is a ravenous beast that often feasts on the flesh of those who invade her territory. Your friend may already be dead.


    "Few have looked on her and lived. I am one of those few."


    Relma looked at Estela and wondered why she was so reckless about this. "Estela, King Gormath thinks this is a bad idea. There is a Queen of Jaguars called Nyx, who eats humans who invade her domain. He says that Ajax may already be dead.


    "He knows because he is one of the few people to look on her and live."


    Estela kept a polite face on. "Tell King Gormath that we shall be cautious."


    "Not cautious enough not to go, however," mused Gormath. "But do as you wish."


    "He notes that you are not cautious enough not to go but says you may do as you wish," said Relma as Gormath walked away. Relma did not enjoy repeating people repeatedly, but it was her job.


    The next morning, Estela led them into the lands, seeking Ajax''s trail. She found it quickly, taking several paths through the farmlands. Ajax had been sighted near a farm, looking at the sheep. Pigs seemed to be a common choice for livestock among the people here, very common. The people did not seem malnourished or badly off, and Relma inquired about taxes. Gormath was apparently considered very lenient. Soon, they went beyond the farms and into the woods that were unlike any Relma had seen. They were a place with many ferns and a moist, humid air so that sweat dripped down their brows.


    Often, Estela would have to hack branches away with a heavy blade borrowed for this purpose. Huge spiders dwelled in these places. Some had cocoons that contained what might have been rodents. Relma also saw several serpents around the trees. She wondered if Rioletta or House Gabriel had been here before.


    Probably not, not House Gabriel anyway. Rioletta, being the Goddess of Fate, might have holdings.


    Estela halted and kneeled by the tracks, pushing aside a fern as she did so. "...He came this way; come on."


    "Are you sure?" asked Relma. "It wasn''t another wolf or something?"


    "Yes, Ajax''s footprints are unique, and they aren''t nearly as soft as most wolves," said Estela.


    "Do you think we should speak with the spirits of this place?" asked Relma, looking around. A spider, the size of her hand, was crawling above them on its web. It stretched from the branch of a tree all the way to the trunk.


    "We could," admitted Estela ruefully. "But I''m not sure they''ll be as cooperative in this region. Anoa never came here, so they probably don''t obey him."


    "Let me try speaking with them," said Relma.


    "Be my guest," said Estela. "I wanted a rest anyway."


    Relma sat down, remembering some meditations Aunt Pan had taught her. Putting Lightning Trail across her knees, she closed her eyes. Focusing, Relma sent out her will, wondering if fairies were within this place. As she did so, Relma felt the spirits around her, yet they recoiled as she approached.


    They remained... hesitant, out of sight, but only just.


    Relma opened her eyes and stood. "...No, they''re not listening. I don''t think they know what to make of us just yet."


    "Well, let''s not keep them in suspense," said Estela with a shrug. "We''ll follow these tracks as far as we can."


    "Where''s Ajax heading, do you think?" asked Relma as they walked.


    "Up toward that mountain," said Estela, motioning. "Though I don''t see what he hoped to gain by this.


    "I wish Wrynncurth could have come with us."


    "He wanted to stay behind and learn the language, Estela," said Relma. "And that will help us."


    "I doubt that very much, though at least Jomas is with him," said Estela. "I''ve had enough of that simpleton already."


    "Why do you still hate Jomas?" asked Relma. "He''s already been of great help to us."


    "I don''t hate him," admitted Estela with a shrug. "I just don''t want to marry him."


    "Well then, why are you talking behind his back when he''s not here?" asked Relma. "Can''t you just tell your father you won''t do it?"


    "I can''t do that, Relma!" said Estela.


    Relma looked at her. "Why not?"


    "Because it''s important," said Estela, hacking through several vines. "House Vortegex''s whole plan is based around this marriage. If I just flat-out refuse it, I could be disinherited. At the very least, the country will be less secure. The only way out is if Jomas dies on this mission."


    "Would you be willing to let him die if he was in front of you?" asked Relma.


    "Of course not!" said Estela defensively. "I''m a Knight; honor demands I protect my comrades in arms and the weak. I''m just... well, I''m hoping I''m unable to, despite my best efforts."


    "Do you like Jomas?" asked Relma.


    "As I said," said Estela. "I don''t hate him.


    "He''s good in a fight, like an ogre in human form. But I don''t want to marry him, and I don''t want to hear any speeches from you about how I should accept it. We''re only here because you decided to go after Lightning Trail¡ªAgainst everyone else''s objections, I might add."


    "Right, yeah, I''m not really in a position to say anything," said Relma. Though privately, she remembered Estela trying to draw Lightning Trail herself. "What is leading Ajax out here?"


    "I don''t know, but the jungle is getting worse," mused Estela.


    "Should we follow?" asked Relma.


    "Do we have any other choice?" asked Estela. "We could wait for a bit and hope he links up with us. But I don''t like waiting here more than is necessary; Father may launch an invasion. If that happens, all our plans would be in ruins.


    "Come on."


    And then Relma saw Estela heading straight toward a huge web with an equally huge spider as big as her head. Quickly, she grabbed Estela''s shoulder. "Estela, look out!"


    Estela halted. "What is..."


    Then she saw the thing, inches from her face, and scrambled back. Raising her sword, it flashed in the light. Quickly, Relma caught her by the hand. "No, don''t cut the web, Estela! The spider is just hunting to live!"


    Estela shifted and finally nodded. "...Fine, you''re right."


    And they moved around it.


    Even as they did, however, there were several rustling in the leaves. Relma halted, and Estela readied her sword. Drawing Lightning Trail, Relma was afraid of having to use it. She didn''t want to kill anything.


    "Meow, these are some pretty ones, aren''t they?" asked a voice in the trees. "Yes... pretty indeed.


    "Should we keep them? Or devour them right away?"


    Many huge cats then emerged from the trees, spotted and snarling. Above them, in the branches, Relma saw a woman. She had brown skin and was majestically beautiful, clad only in ragged clothes. Yet she seemed a mix of human and cat, with paws instead of hands and feet. On her head were ears like those of a cat, with speckled yellow fur. Her yellow eyes looked with interest. She also had whiskers and a very... well... exaggerated form, as demons supposedly tended to have.


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    "Neither," said Estela. "Everyone will die here if you do not step away."


    "A bold one, definitely one I want to keep... especially with that fair skin, very nice," said the woman, licking her lips. "Surrender now, and we''ll be gentle."


    "Death first," replied Estela, flourishing her blade.


    She looked very fine doing it, but Relma hoped for neither death nor capture.


    At that moment, Ajax appeared from the forests. "Nyx!"


    Nyx looked up in irritation. "What is it, Ajax? I''m making a meal."


    "These are my friends, the ones I told you about," said Ajax flatly. "I''d appreciate it if you didn''t devour them. Some of them anyway; where are Jomas and Wrynncurth?"


    "We''re here alone," said Estela.


    "Oh, how disappointing; I was hoping to devour these," said Nyx. "I so wanted to hang some of their skins on my wall."


    "Maybe next time," said Ajax flatly.


    Relma shuddered and reminded herself that King Gormath had had jaguar pelts on his wall. So, it was sort of the same. Well, not really, to Relma, at least.


    "Who are you?" asked Estela.


    "I am Nyx, Queen of the Jaguars, and this is my body within the realm of the Conquista," said Nyx. Then she dropped down so she and Estela were inches apart.


    "Your body in these parts?" asked Estela, refusing to back away.


    "Yes, I occupy many different bodies. Each one presides over the cats of that region," said Nyx, scratching a jaguar behind the ears. "Though Jaguars are my absolute favorite, yes, yes, you are..."


    "Ajax, explain yourself!" snapped Estela, hiding her move away from Nyx by turning to him. "What are you doing here with this woman? Why''d you run off? We''ve had to delay our plans because of this!"


    "We''ve been having something of a family meeting, to be honest," said Nyx. "We are long lost cousins, after all."


    "Cousins?" asked Estela.


    "Distantly, of course," said Ajax. "Both of us trace our lineage back to Baltoth. I learned of her existence from my wolves and decided to track her down. They''ve been fighting over territory with her, and I had to iron some things out."


    "Why didn''t you tell us about this?" asked Relma.


    "Because there is a universe outside of you, Relma," said Ajax. "I wasn''t even planning to meet up with you until I ran into all those undead.


    "I was trying to set up a meeting between her and Father, but then you ran into that mess. With the rate at which you people get into trouble, I needed to reschedule, so I brought you here. Then I met Nyx here instead."


    "What have you been negotiating about, exactly?" asked Estela.


    "If you have to know, I''ve been trying to put together a formal alliance between the cats and the wolves," said Ajax. "I''ve heard about Durag''s undead constantly increasing rate. The dragons aren''t harming anyone. Whenever they swell too large, the dragons swoop in. They incinerate whole swathes of forest and call it a day.


    "That only kills some of the dead, and it makes it more difficult to eat for everyone.


    "We''re trying to plan some sort of solution, and we''re starting with a ceasefire."


    "I''m certain we can discuss all this over dinner," said Nyx, licking her lips. As if on a whim, she brushed a paw over Estela''s shoulder. "Will you join us? It''ll be nice to have you there, either dead or alive." sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Estela looked to Relma, then back. "We will."


    What was Estela doing? This woman was a bloodthirsty monster.


    She and Tanith would probably have gotten along just fine.


    Even so, Estela was in charge. Relma wasn''t supposed to question her decisions unless asked.


    So Nyx led Estela, Relma, and Ajax through the jungles. The Jaguars, meanwhile, flanked them tightly, snarling as they did. The heat got worse as the day wore on, and there were several sprinkles of rain. Nyx often spoke of hunts with Ajax, while Estela and Relma said nothing.


    At last, they came to the den of Pentera.


    Skulls surrounded her home¡ªhundreds of them laid out in rows in a full circle. There was only one narrow lane where the bleached white bones were not. And this was where they walked toward a large cave, leading into the earth.


    "This place is..." choked Estela. "Where did all these skulls come from?"


    "Oh, do you like them?" asked Nyx. "I''m trying to collect as many different shapes and sizes. For instance, this one belonged to a particularly dull-witted one¡ªa pale-skinned one from Highwatch. Mostly, you get brown skins in these parts.


    "I have a theory that the shape of the skulls of humanoids determines how intelligent they are. And I''ve always enjoyed examining them."


    "You kill people to collect their skulls?" asked Estela.


    "And their skins as well," said Nyx, missing the horror in Estela''s tone. "I have entire walls worth of adventurers on them. Only those who trespass on my domains, of course."


    "Not a smart move," said Ajax.


    "Oh, but why?" asked Nyx.


    "If you just leave the bodies where they are, people find them and assume some wild animal did it," said Ajax. "Then they stay out. They get the message that something really dangerous is there, but they don''t know for sure it is you.


    "If you start collecting huge numbers of skulls and bones, then sooner or later, someone finds it. Then they start sending bold heroes after you, and it''s nothing but endless fighting."


    Relma wondered if Ajax was critiquing this now out of genuine concern. Or because Relma and Estela were present. It was a question that troubled her.


    "Oh, but I so enjoy devouring would-be heroes," said Nyx. "It''s always the highlight of my week. However, they haven''t really sent any after me lately. Not since Gormath made a truce with me in person.


    "Though the negotiations were pleasant indeed..."


    "I hope you don''t expect us to eat human flesh?" asked Estela, looking ill. Relma felt the same.


    "Don''t be silly," said Nyx. "I intend to make the food myself. I am not a poor host. Please, make yourself at home. And don''t worry, this room has no humanoid skins in it, just animals.


    "I realize it brings about some discomfort.


    "So, what is it that has brought you three out here?"


    "We''re seeking the Dragonfire Shield. King Gormath has told us he will only give it to us if we kill Durag," said Estela quickly.


    "Oh, yes, the usual suicide mission," mused Nyx. "Queen Vanessa tried sending some imposters out to the Conquista. They always give them that job. If it succeeds, Durag is dead; if not, they failed the quest. Then, Vanessa started using it as a means of getting rid of troublesome war leaders.


    "She''d find some curly-blonde-haired boy, assign the problematic warriors to him as a guard, and send him out. I ate a few of them."


    "I thought they believed us a little too quickly," mused Estela. "Any advice?"


    "Well, there are a few ways into the land of Durag," said Nyx, coming to the cave entrance. The first is to cross Bryag''s River by his bridge. You''d have to sail south, land, and head downriver. There are a few fords you could take, but it''s more or less suicide." Within the cave, they found it very clean.


    Two branches of the wall led two different ways. The left had numerous skins tied up next to the wall. Many of them were human, and Relma looked away. On the right side, there were countless other animals'' skins.


    "See, there is a constant stream of the undead around those areas," said Nyx, leading them down the right. "They try to cross over when Bryag is sleeping. Some of my other bodies have good sport hunting the dead."


    "So what would you recommend?" asked Estela.


    "Simple enough," said Nyx. "You want to go to Durag''s domain by sea. Of course, he''s drawn up mountains on his northern coast, but there is one way in.


    "Highwatch."


    "I''ve heard the name," said Estela.


    "It''s the ancient homeland of the dwarves. All the dwarves," said Nyx. "Some of them went north during the wars with Anoa. So those are also descendants.


    "I''ve never been fond of eating them, tough and stringy.


    "Now, who''s hungry?"


    Nyx then ushered them into a dining hall and departed. There, they waited as Ajax told them about what he had seen. It seemed that the jaguar here was an honor guard of sorts, taken from litters to serve Nyx. Most jaguars dwelled in solitary ways, meeting only to mate.


    No one felt much like a conversation. Though Estela was insistent, they had to eat whatever they were offered. With the exception of cannibalism, obviously.


    And then Nyx came back with the meal.


    What she served was a series of forms of meat mixed with spices and rice. Tasting it, Relma was surprised to find that it was excellent. But Estela looked at it in surprise. "What is this?"


    "Don''t worry; it''s not sentient," said Nyx. I keep food stored in an ice cavern below."


    "How do you have an ice spirit here?" asked Relma, thinking of the heat.


    "Oh, I trapped an ice spirit within the road of ancient stone. Then I cut off all entryways save through my hideout," said Nyx. "It takes a bit of doing, but with willpower and persistence, there are all kinds of conveniences you can make.


    "Although now and then demons break through and never and then there is a full-on invasion. You can see this due to Durag''s experiments. But, those are the risks."


    "You risk demonic invasions to keep the meat cold?" asked Estela.


    "Luxury does have a price, Estela," said Ajax. "Try it."


    Estela did try the food. Judging from her expression, she liked it very much, to the point where she seemed to forget where she was. Relma felt the same about the food, and this made her suspicious. "This is... good. Very good."


    Nyx seemed very pleased. "Yes, I''ve picked up many recipes from merchants I''ve seized. Whenever I capture a cook, I have them teach me in exchange for their lives. Of course, one tried to poison me, so I cooked him.


    "What do you think?" She peered at Relma.


    "This is excellent," said Relma.


    "I''ve always preferred food raw," said Ajax.


    "Well, that does have an appeal," mused Nyx. "But there is something to say for civilization.


    "Care for some oranges?"


    Several jaguars then carried in a bowl of fruit that Relma had not seen before. Taking it, she peeled it and ate it. It was sweet and juicy. Estela also seemed to enjoy it, but Relma kept thinking of all the people who had died.


    "In any case, once you arrive at Highwatch, you can take the south road into Durag''s lands. He still keeps in some contact with the dwarves of that region, so the road won''t be as heavily watched," said Nyx. "Eventually, you''ll reach Blightskull Keep."


    "Subtle naming convention," said Ajax.


    "I found it glaringly obvious," said Nyx. "It''s the border between Highwatch and Durag''s domain. There should be a tunnel within that leads to his clans realms As for how to deal with him. I have no idea."


    "My thanks for the help," said Estela, eating an orange. Though her eyes gazed on Nyx warily. "We''ll need it."


    At that moment, a jaguar loped into sight. Nyx dropped down to all fours naturally and gazed into the creature''s eyes. Then she rosed up with a smile that revealed sharp canines. "Sooner than you may think, actually."


    "I smell something," said Ajax, sniffing. "Warriors, coming through the jungle even now."


    "I smell them," said Nyx. "They''re of the Sun Soul Empire; I can tell by the feathers they are wearing. They must have climbed the northern cliffs to come this way.


    "Well then, we shouldn''t keep them waiting, should we, my dears?"


    Jaguar emerged around her as if for war.


    "What would they want here?" asked Estela.


    "My soul, of course," said Nyx. "It''s why I spread my soul out across multiple bodies, so if I were defeated once by them, I could avoid such a fate."


    "What fate?" asked Relma.


    "To be burned eternally within the fires of the Sun Spirit," said Nyx. "In order to extend its lifespan, of course."


    "But the sun is immortal," said Estela.


    "Nothing physical is immortal, Estela," said Nyx. "Every flame will eventually go out; every bit of this world decay into nothingness. Then, only the spirit will remain.


    "Unless the Sun Soul Empire succeeds, of course.


    "Their goal is to create an eternal universe that lasts forever. And they utilize the Sun Spirit for that purpose. By sending the souls of those they capture to burn within it, they extend its lifespan."


    "That''s horrible," said Relma.


    "They regard it as an extraordinary honor," said Nyx. "Their entire society sacrifices itself to that goal.


    "But we''ve spoken too much; I have a war to plan. Let''s go dine. Want to watch? Or participate in it yourself?"


    "I''m not one to cower behind," said Estela. "Relma, stay here."


    "But-" began Relma.


    "You''re not exactly the best warrior among us. Stay here," said Estela. Then she drew her sword.


    "...Yes, right," said Relma.


    Nyx, Estela, Ajax, and the Jaguars all left almost at once¡ªall except for two Jaguars standing on their haunches at the far side of the wall. Relma waited, wondering how things were turning out and feeling nervous.


    Then, suddenly, the jaguars rose up and snarled. Relma sensed someone behind her and whirled to face them-


    Everything went black.

 Chapter 372 - Ten: The Sun Soul Warriors

    Relma awoke, and her head hurt


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    Her vision was blurry, and as she tried to get her bearing, she felt the floor swaying. It was also rough like wood. She was on a ship of some kind, and as her vision cleared, she saw a cloudy sky. Moving around the deck around her were a variety of men. They were all large and muscular, wearing little more than loincloths. Though a few wore more elaborate clothes of white and blue. Many wore clubs at their sides of elaborate make.


    Closing her eyes, Relma focused on Aunt Pan''s lessons. She could feel the drugs within her veins and began to work to get through it. Purifying her bloodstream, she, at last, opened her eyes. Now, where was Lightning Trail?


    She could not feel it near, but looking up, saw a man wearing a feathered cloak with a staff. Lightning Trail was at her side. Gradually, he turned to her, and Relma closed her eyes as he approached. Best to feign sleep.


    "Is this her, Quxilang?" asked a rough voice.


    "Yes, the Heir of Kings," said a younger voice.


    "I sense within this one a powerful soul, greater than any I have yet seen outside of gods," said the older man. "You did well to seize her.


    "How many men did you lose?"


    "Five," said Quxillang. "We drew off the main force of Jaguars, but three of us were caught and killed. Of the squad we took to seize the Heir of Kings, we lost three to the guards. We were unable to escape unnoticed."


    "Well, they have reached the heart of the sun," said the High Priest. "There is no greater glory than that."


    "High Priest..." said Quxilang, voice doubtful. He stopped short, however.


    "Yes, speak freely, Quxillang?" asked the High Priest.


    "Are we certain of this?" asked Quxilang. "Saving Durag from this one? I do not question your authority, but to protect that monster..."


    "It is necessary," said Quxillang. "Durag may care only for extending his own life. But he has prevented us from being conquered for centuries. So long as his dead hold the rivers, no true invasion can be launched against us.


    "What if he is killed?


    "His undead would be swept away, High Watch would be able to attack us. So would the Dragon Empire. And the Conquista would surely begin attacks. Our way of life is preserved by his presence.


    "In time, we shall gather enough strength to reclaim the lands stolen from us.


    "But that day is not today."


    "Are we not strong enough now?" asked Quxilang. "Our numbers have swelled. More pyres are rising throughout the villages than ever before.


    "It has gotten to the point where the willing sacrifices outnumber the war sacrifices."


    "The day shall come soon. I hope in your lifetime," said the High Priest. "For now, we must ensure that the flame of life does not die out. Our responsibility is to ensure the survival of this universe. And through it, every race and being that exists. Sacrifices must be made.


    "Now, remain focused. We are very near to Bryag''s River. As soon as we reach it, we will disembark and journey through his lands."


    "What of our obligation to Durag?" asked Quxilang.


    "Durag wishes a meeting with Adrian Wrynncurth. Wrynncurth will surely be drawn here by the loss of his companion," said the High Priest.


    "What of Wrynncurth himself?" asked Quxilang. "If we were to burn his soul-"


    "A tempting target, but not worth pursuing," said the High Priest. "His soul is not his own. When I saw him from the underbrush, I knew it at once. What we saw was no more his body than a marionette is the body of a puppeteer. The true Wrynncurth is elsewhere."


    "So I''m captured by the Sun Soul Empire," thought Relma to herself. "I''d better not let them know I''ve woken up. At least Estela and Ajax got out alright."


    "Look there, ships of the Conquista!" cried someone.


    Risking opening her eyes, Relma was able to see the men scurrying this way and that with the sails. Something plunged into the water near them, sending a spray over Relma. As she watched the chaos, she worked her hands to try and get out.


    "Make for the reefs," said the High Priest, motioning with his staff. "That kind of vessel cannot follow ours."


    Relma wished she could see the other ship. The sound of muskets and other noises like thunder resounded. She saw a man fall to the ground, dead, while others launched arrows in return.


    "They are gaining on us," said Quxilang quickly. "We should fight."


    "No, they are far too many," said the High Priest. "We must be sure to reach the shore."


    On the chaos went, as more shots could be seen regularly. As Relma worked within her bindings, she wondered how it was that they had come all this way. The drugs on her must have been very strong.


    Little by little, she got free.


    Then something shot over her. Splinters landed around her, and a large portion of the far deck was smashed off. Someone was screaming, and Relma saw a man who had lost both legs. Others such smashes were heard as the ship shuddered and listed.


    Finally, she was free.


    But Relma didn''t move yet. She knew very well that as soon as she got up, every single one of these men would be on her. Instead, she wrapped the ropes around her arms. Then she sat still, healing a cut from splinters as she did. Working her feet in her bindings, she managed to loosen them.


    Suddenly there was a crashing sound, and a cheer resounded from the men of the Sun Soul Empire.


    "We''re free!" cried Quixilang. "The Sun shines upon our journey!"


    "But there is the dark," said the High Priest, motioning over the side, Relma guessed toward the shore. "Look there, warriors of the Dragon Empire have marked us. They are sure to tell Bryag about what happened here. We''ll have to land and soon."


    "They may not know our cargo," noted Quixillang.


    "Maybe not," mused the High Priest, "but they know our mission is important. Seldom have we gone to see in recent years.


    "Bring us ashore at once."


    And ashore they went, though it took some time.


    The ship listed, and water leaked into it. The men had to throw water off it even as they neared it. When they finally came ashore, Quxillang looked to the High Priest.


    "What now?" asked Quxillang.


    "Leave the boat," said the High Priest. "And anything that can''t be spared. Together we shall travel light through Durag''s domain. And beyond, to the Sun Soul Empire."


    "Durag may come after us," said Quxillang. "His word is not of worth." As he spoke, Relma began to stir, seeing the shore.


    "We do not need to fear him yet. Get-" began the High Priest.


    Then Relma sprang to her feet, snatched Lightning Trail from his belt, and sprang over the side. Landing in the water, she ran through the salty wetness.


    "The Heir of King''s! She has leaped overboard! After her at once!" cried the High Priest. "Put the bows down!"


    Relma ran onto the shore and only then realized she was coming out of a river near the sea. On the one side was the Dragon Empire, judging from the buildings. On the other lay a blackened and rocky place, veiled in mist.


    And behind her came the Sun Soul Warriors.


    Relma knew that she would perish if she was caught here and ran for what seemed to be a ford. Even as she reached it, however, she saw soldiers of the Dragon Empire crossing toward her. One launched an arrow her way, and Relma turned to run.


    Caught between the Sun Soul Empire and the Dragon Empire, Relma leaped into the river. And it was not a moment too soon. Even as she surfaced, she saw the two sides meeting in battle. Quxillang was wielding what seemed a club. It was tipped with steel blades and using it with vicious strokes. A man of the Dragon Empire fell dead; his skull had been cleaved, even as a Sun Soul Warrior was speared through the gut.


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    The river was soon stained blood red, even as Relma pulled herself ashore, running for the hills. All hopes of crossing like this were bad; she''d be taken for a spy or deserter and killed for sure. Instead, she moved into the mist, and finding a ditch, threw herself into it. It was beneath the gaze of a huge cliff face.


    From here, Relma could see the battle waging. The Sun Soul Warriors were far fewer. From the looks of things, they were being overwhelmed. Yet suddenly, out of the hills near her sprang many more warriors like them. They were dressed the same, but the warriors with them had paler skin and dead eyes.


    "FOR THE DRAGON EMPIRE! FOR BRYAG AND QUEEN VANESSA!" yelled someone.


    More men from the Dragon Empire came. Relma guessed that Vanessa had chosen to reduce her population. Probably by invading Durag instead of Escor. Assuming there was not some other reason. Still, the Dragon Empire seemed to be having better luck here.


    "That''s my usual run of luck, I guess," muttered Relma, dusting herself off. "Though I don''t have any food or weapons, so not as much as I thought. What do I do now? Well, I ought to head inland to get away from the Sun Soul Warriors.


    "But perhaps if I got to the bridge, I could flee and meet Bryag?


    "Does Nyx have any holdings here? Would she recognize me? I think she mentioned something about being in the Sun Soul Empire. No, best not to go into the lion''s den. Not like this anyway."


    And then she saw the dead.


    They were walking out of the mist toward her, and their hands were outstretched. A panic came over Relma, and she knew she could not stay. Springing up, she rushed back toward the shore, then turned away from the battle. She hoped she might escape before someone marked her presence.


    Follow along the river until she found a save ford; yes, that was the best plan.


    Only the dead were coming out of the highlands all around her. And as the rate she was running, she''d be driven into the river. A glance back revealed that the Dragon Empire was now fighting the undead. The Sun Soul Empire had withdrawn, leaving the walking corpses to take the brunt of the fighting.


    Now Relma realized she''d either be able to leap into the river and try to swim to the other side. Or be grabbed by the undead.


    Taking her chances, she ran forward-


    And then there was a flaring of light, and she fell back blinded. When the light passed, the High Priest stood before her. His staff was in hand, and with him was Quixillang and several others. "Seize her, at once."


    And they did seize her. Relma knew better than to try using Lightning Trail for actual sword fighting. She''d only make a fool of herself.


    "I suppose you think you''re brave," said the High Priest.


    "Actually, I''d say I''m more desperate," admitted Relma.


    Well, she''d just have to talk her way out of this, then.


    And then the dragons arrived.


    You could hear their wingbeats long before you could see them, and Relma saw a score of them swooping down. The High Priest looked upwards at their coming and motioned to his men.


    "Come quickly; we must get off this shore! The enemy is on us!"


    Relma had her hands tied, and this time was forced to run. They quickly made their way into the hills. As they did, a glance back revealed the Dragon Empire was fighting through. The dead''s armies were being burned to a cinder by the dragons as the infantry marched through.


    "Let us stay behind! We shall hold them!" said two men.


    "Now is not the time for that," said Quxillang. "We run for now, into the hills.


    "Let these unfortunate creatures halt the advance for now."


    The undead streamed past them as they ran into the hills. Relma tried to work her bindings off but reflected that it would be best to try negotiation. Even as they did, the Dragons could be heard pouring fire and roaring.


    "They are persistent, aren''t they?" asked one.


    "Panthera may have notified them of what we are doing," said the High Priest. "I was not aware Queen Vanessa was so interested in this one.


    "It changes nothing, however.


    "Asuxil, Marsuma, you will remain here. The enemy will only be able to come up this point one at a time, and there will be a steep climb. The rocks will provide cover from the arrows. You must make a stand and keep them back as long as you are able."


    "We hear and obey, High Priest," said Asuxil and Marsuma, saluting with their weapons. They then went to hide behind the rocks. Relma could see men of the Dragon Empire scaling up the hills.


    If they were here to help Relma, she knew she ought to be grateful and remember it later. For now, though, she had to escape the men leading her away.


    "Why are you going to all this trouble just to capture me?" asked Relma.


    "We have no vendetta with you," said the High Priest. "Nor do we hold any vendetta with any living creature.


    "However, it is our task to stop the decay of the universe. That may only be achieved by sacrifices, willing or otherwise. The efforts of mortals can only temporarily stave off the end of the universe.


    "Our spirits, however strong, are not strong enough.


    "But immortals, manifestations of ideals? Divine domains? Those exist outside of the physical world. You have within you the spirit of a powerful immortal, the Angel of Virtue. Consequently, you are high on our list of targets to acquire."


    "You really don''t want to do that," said Relma quickly. "There''s an entire army waiting at the border of the Dragon Empire. If I die, they''ll invade sooner or later."


    "The Sun Spirit spoke to us," said the High Priest. "Though you are powerful, you are considered a threat by all. You will not be missed."


    "Maybe not, but King Tyus will use me as an excuse to conquer more land," said Relma quickly. "My friends will be able to arrange a safe passage. Then you''ll be facing the Dragon Empire, the Conquista, and an entirely new army with only Durag.


    "Just because Tyus doesn''t like me doesn''t mean he won''t jump at the chance to use me as an excuse for conquest."


    The High Priest looked at her from under a careworn brow. He looked very tired, oddly enough. "You have little faith in your fellows, do you not?"


    "I have faith in them. I just also know how they think," said Relma. "I''m more useful to you alive than dead."


    "What do you mean?" asked the High Priest.


    "Think about it," said Relma quickly. "I am the Heir of Kings, and I have a lot of influence over those armies. Escor, the place we came from, has been in a nonstop war with the Dragon Empire for centuries. We can''t even speak their language while you can.


    "If you take me to Durag, that will draw Wrynncurth to him and achieve his goal. Once we''re all in one place, we can talk this out. I might be able to find a way for everyone to get what they want without any more violence."


    "The Red Dragons do not cooperate," said the High Priest. "What they do not dominate, they destroy."


    "Yes," said Relma, "but if things go as planned, they''ll be surrounded. They''ll have no choice but to make terms.


    "And if it doesn''t work, you just do whatever you were going to do in the first place.


    What do you have to lose?"


    "The Sun Spirit warned us of you," said the High Priest warily. "Your words are said to put a spell on men."


    "Well, my Aunt Pan once told me to never use a spell when asking nicely will do," said Relma quickly. "Does anything I''m saying not make sense?"


    The High Priest halted, then looked to his men. "...We''ll take her to the village.


    "Once there, we''ll communicate with my brothers and decide on a course of action. Solidifying our borders may result in a greater extension to the universe in the long term. More than putting her on a pyre."


    "Thank you," said Relma. "May I know your name?"


    "I am Montazus," said the High Priest. "Quickly, we have to move."


    Their journey was not a pleasant one. There seemed to be little life in this land, but many corpses. Almost all of them were walking in endless rows as they went to war. Relma wondered how anyone could find so many bodies.


    "...Where did all these corpses come from?" asked Relma.


    "Many places," said Montazus. "The Road of Ancient Stone has innumerable bodies within it. The people of these lands have long since taken to burning their dead. Yet Durag continues to bolster his ranks.


    "We have not yet discovered his secret, nor do we wish to.


    "Such knowledge would only be a temptation and would be useful for no good purpose."


    "Wouldn''t knowing how he is doing it help destroy the source?" asked Relma.


    "Perhaps," admitted Montazus. "However, the bodies of the dead have souls within them. They are a ready source of power for our pyres. When our quotas are not filled, we may use them as a supplement."


    Relma shuddered as they passed beneath a gray crag. "You mean...


    "But I thought that undead were reanimated corpses. They''re held together by the power of Withering."


    "Some of them are," said Montazus. "However, the souls within the corpses here are not like those of men. They are decayed and filled with mindless hunger. They are a danger to all around them.


    "Burning them is mercy."


    "Eternal torment is mercy?" asked Relma.


    "Pain and torment are not the same things," said Montazus. "Life is pain.


    "There is no pain that a being cannot endure, should they have the will. And through enduring that pain, you gain enlightenment. All souls that are burned within the sun will gain enlightenment through pain.


    "And by that enlightenment will we halt the end of this world."


    "What if they don''t?" asked Relma.


    "Then they would not have gained enlightenment anyway. They would be cursed to destruction, even without our efforts," said Montazus. "Torment comes from ignorance, not pain."


    "Are you sure?" asked Relma.


    "No more questions," said Montazus. "I haven''t the time for this."


    "High Priest, Bryag is coming!" cried Quixillang suddenly. "See there!"


    Sure enough, there was Bryag, more an island in the sky than a creature. His flaming breath scorched miles of terrain with a swing of his head. His wingbeats shook the ground beneath their feet.


    "Quickly, to the tower!" said Montazus.


    Sprinting, they rounded a bend and came before a great tower. Beyond it, they saw a green country with many farms around it. No undead were near it, and Relma hoped Bryag wouldn''t go there.


    Montazus made for the tower, and they sprinted into the open doors. A moment later, Bryag came, and a blazing inferno descended around them. Relma thought for sure the tower would melt around them. The heat on her face sent her and the others staggering back. Yet some magic held the flames away.


    "What magic is at work here?" asked Relma.


    "This tower is specially designed to defend against dragons," said Montazus. "It was forged in ancient days when the Sun Soul Empire ruled these lands. Unfortunately, those days are long past; now they are but a shelter. Tended to by the dead."


    He motioned to a walking corpse, sweeping away dust.


    Suddenly there was an ungodly shrieking as the flames passed. Relma looked and saw dozens of creatures around Wrynncurth''s size flying toward Bryag. The huge dragon turned in midair, trying to roast them with his breath.


    "There are Durag''s gargoyles now! Bryag can''t fight them all!" said Quixillang.


    "He can certainly fight a lot of them," said Relma as many of them were melted to slag.


    "Well, what do you expect?" asked Montazus. "He''s Bryag."


    At last, however, Bryag turned and, with a final roar, flew away. The movement outpaced the gargoyles that returned to the hills beyond. Relma took care to note the direction Bryag was heading. The information could be useful if she had to make a run for it.


    "We should move on; the village is not far," said Montazus.


    For once, Relma agreed. She just hoped she could get her hands freed. She''d need to be able to make a run for it if this went badly.

 Chapter 373 - Eleven: The Domain of Durag

    Montazus led at the front of the group along many paths. Two days passed before they reached a village.


    Several people came out to meet them. All of them were pale-skinned, like those who had attacked the Dragon Empire before. However, they dressed much the same and had similar weapons, yet there was a death theme to them. Skulls were carved into the doorframes of their houses.


    The houses had been built of stone with thatched roofs. A large palisade wall surrounded them, but there were no guards. The path was dirt and kept clear, but there was a forlorn look to this place. It seemed as though it was all a frame, and at the center was a firepit filled with bones¡ªsome of them human.


    Relma looked to Montazus, and a question occurred. She thought about how best to ask it. Eventually, she decided to just go ahead and say it right out. "Do the villagers here serve you or Durag?"


    "Neither, though they worship the Sun, they do not believe in the faith," said Montazus. "To do so would bring the wrath of Durag, for they must sacrifice their bodies and spirits to him. Now quiet, we are to be met."


    Another priest, though very differently dressed, came before them. His headdress was made of black feathers, and he bore skull emblems. It was a sharp contrast to Montazus''s own sun regalia, and Relma liked it somewhat better. It also had no gold or silver. She did not like all the scars on his body or the long, jagged knife.


    "Welcome, High Priest Montazus. You honor us by your presence. Is this the sacrifice?" asked the priest, bowing as he did so.


    "Perhaps, perhaps not," said Montazus. "We will need to rest here tonight. My brethren and I have seen many friends depart to the Sun Spirit."


    "Then Durag mourns their absence," said the priest in a mournful tone. Too many have fallen in these wars already."


    "Will Bryag come against us, Quxil?" asked Montazus quickly. "Or has he departed? We must know it."


    "I do not think he will return today," said Quxil. Durag''s gargoyles are now in great force. The Dragon Empire knows to fear them." He motioned skyward to where Relma saw many dozens of the creatures. They were flying like vultures above them. "You are welcome to our hospitality, of course. As cousins."


    "Cousins?" asked Relma as she was led into the village. The villages gave way to them or stayed in their houses¡ªmore the latter than the former.


    "Those who serve the Sun Spirit are all brothers in faith," said Montazus. "Those who dwell here are likewise kin. Yet they are of a more distant form."


    Relma nodded and then saw a pillar of fire burning high at the top of a hill in the center of town. Yet there was nothing for it to be fueled on, save for charred bones scattered around it. Looking at it gave her a chill. "What is that?"


    "The pyre of the sacrificed. One is set at the center of every one of the Sun''s followers," said Montazus.


    Quxil led them at last to a huge longhouse. It had what looked to be a stable near it; however, there were no horses within. Relma wondered why they would need such a thing.


    At a guess, she speculated that messengers from other lands might need it. Or perhaps the horses were elsewhere right now. Montazus, however, did not give it a second glance.


    Instead, he regarded his men, who were tired of running and fighting and pointed to them. "You men, rest. I shall begin the ritual in the isolation room." He looked to Relma. "Do I have your oath not to try and escape?"


    "Until you decide to burn me alive, yes," said Relma, not being quite so nice as to go further.


    "As good as can be expected," said Montazus. Then he looked to Quxil. "I ask that you ensure this one does not leave the village. Other than that, she may do as she will."


    Relma paused as Montazus left, not waiting for Quxil''s answer. The people in the village eyed her doubtfully, and Relma decided to make a good first impression. "Excuse me, Quxil? Are there any injured or sick? I have healing power." Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "There are some in the house of healing," said Quxil. "Or battle with the Dragon Empire injured many of us. We could not take any prisoners this time because of the Dragons."


    "You take prisoners?" asked Relma.


    "Captives are, traditionally, burned in that pyre," said Quxil.


    Relma was very glad they had not taken any prisoners. That would have put her in the position of having to save them, and that could break up negotiations. "I''d like to do what I can for your wounded."


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    Helping these people could not hurt her and might ingratiate her to others.


    Quxil allowed her into the area where the wounded were kept under watch. Relma quickly set about healing everyone she could. William had had a pretty good idea by doing this, and as she worked, she realized just how hard it was. It had been bad enough to be on healing duty when there were dozens of trained healers.


    Yet there did not seem to be any, not of any magical kind. Quxil seemed to use herbs and bandages. And some of them seemed to work well, yet he used no magic. Relma, meanwhile, found her skills taxed to the limit.


    Before, Relma had assumed that her inferior healing skills were due to a lack of practice and her mindset. Yet now, she was just wondering if perhaps William was better. Healing stomach wounds took her precious minutes, and doing so was exhausting. William had healed such wounds in mere moments without any trouble.


    Relma, however, had been taught to send men in great pain into sleep. She used this technique several times on people who had been badly injured.


    "Why are you aiding us?" asked Quxil. "You may be sacrificed on that very pyre if the High Priest does not want to take you to the capital?"


    "Maybe, but that won''t be your fault," said Relma. "Besides, I think I might be able to set things up so everyone benefits." Relma needed information now. "So, what''s it like serving Durag?"


    "Durag and his dwarves dwell in many cities beneath the ground," said Quxil. "Our purpose is to grow food that his mortal servants can eat. If we perform well, we may be allowed to become true undead."


    "True undead?" asked Relma.


    "Undead that speak with the language of men," said Quxil. "Most people are, by nature, weak of mind. They need their bodies to prop up their spirits. Thus, when they become undead, they become mindless things of instinct. They are tortured mockeries of true beings.


    "But one who is strong of will and virtuous will be able to be sentient. Perhaps even become an assistant to the scientists living within Durag''s domain."


    "Scientists?" asked Relma. She''d never heard that phrase.


    "Seekers of knowledge who want the truth," said Quxil. "They wield strange languages and chants that we do not understand. However, they have taught us many means of healing without the magic of other cultures.


    "Durag does not like magic."


    "Why not?" asked Relma.


    "Durag believes that magic is fickle and unreliable," said Quxil. "And the pursuit of truth would eventually lead to its extinction."


    Relma decided not to question further. Durag was an authority figure, and questioning him seemed a poor choice. "Who are Durag''s mortal servants?"


    "Dwarves, for the most part, the descendants of his original clan," said Quxil. "They always become sentient undead, for by nature they are stronger of will."


    "What makes them stronger?" asked Relma, suspecting the true answer to be nothing.


    Quxil paused. "...We do not know. Questioning Durag or his officers is not wise."


    Relma finished the last patient quickly and slumped, tired but victorious. Then she smiled and looked at Quxil. "Thank you for your help.


    "I''ll be sure to ask him when we meet. Tell me, how did your people come to be ruled by Durag?"


    "Ages ago, Durag came to this land when he yet lived," said Quxil. "In those days, our people had sought to break free from the pyres of the Sun Soul Empire. Durag and his clan promised us protection from the Sun Soul Empire. In exchange for our allegiance to Highwatch, we agreed.


    "For a time, we were protected at peace. Our crops were fruitful and yielded great harvests, and our borders were secure. We had wars without cousins to the south and east now and then. But the armies of the dwarves kept us strong.


    "Then, when the dwarves receded in power, Durag ascended. He, the Scientist King, gained dominion over all these lands. Then our tribute was given to him."


    "Why do you have a pyre at the heart of this village if you don''t believe anymore?" asked Relma, curious.


    "It has always been there," said Quxil. "Only those who commit grave crimes are sacrificed there. Except, of course, prisoners of war."


    "And you became allies with the Sun Soul Empire again, when?" asked Relma.


    Quxil shrugged. "We are whatever Durag wills us to be. He is the Scientist King.


    "He slays those who abandon reason."


    Relma did not like Durag''s sound one bit. "I''ll keep it in mind." Then, suddenly, her attention was drawn to a place beyond the village. It looked like a cave, but the ground around it was barren of life. Many skulls were lying there, abandoned and charred. "Tell me that grove. What lies there?"


    Quxil looked at it. "That was once Nyx''s domain, and she hunted our people day and night. However, Mazus the Bold, the founder of our village, was able to hunt her down. Entering her lair, he fought with her in single combat and subdued her.


    "Thus she was burned upon a Pyre, and much of her power was sent to the Sun Spirit. She was the first sacrifice upon the pyre, and it solidified it."


    "Does anyone live there now?" asked Relma.


    "Nyx''s hunting grounds are a cursed place," said Quxil with a shrug. "They are inhabitable only by her servants and guests, and we have hunted them to extinction here."


    "But she told me that she has holdings in the Sun Soul Empire," said Relma. "When I met her." Nyx seemed to be strange and, if Relma was, to be honest, an evil entity. At least from a human standing. Was she operating on a different standard of morality?


    It wasn''t one Relma would want to live near. If she spread her power here, there would have to be changes.


    "She does," said Quxil. "They are places of horror where people are dragged off to be devoured and taken from the Sun Soul Empire.


    Quxil shifted. Then he walked outside, and Relma followed. "Nyx sometimes finds favor in young maidens she finds comely."


    "Estela..." realized Relma, becoming very worried suddenly. "Has she ever done it to a guest?"


    "No," said Quxil, and he sounded aghast at the suggestion.


    Relma looked at the mouth of the cavern and felt uneasy. She had never felt this kind of fear before. The only place that came close was Del Gabor, and that was a long way away. She wondered just what kind of creature Nyx was. "Has anyone ever gone into that place?"


    "Few have," said Quxil. And those who enter never return unchanged. There is a shadow of death in that black place. I should avoid it if you value your sanity.


    "Nyx''s death causes a breach within the domain. Now it touches on hell itself."


    Relma paused and then began to walk toward the den of Pantera. It was on impulse, but she felt that something within that place was important. There was something she had to see. Perhaps it was a message from her higher self.


    "Where are you going?" asked Quxil.


    "To see what''s inside," said Relma.


    Reaching the mouth of the cave, she looked inside.

 Chapter 374 - Twelve: Reality in Dreams

    Relma could not remember stepping into the cave.


    All she knew was that she came to a place that looked like a throne room. It reminded her of Steward Benarus'' throneroom. Yet instead of white, it was gold. The sun''s rays poured through the ceiling, and as she walked, she felt as though she had been here many times before. The air was warm and there was a kind of glow within it.


    It was as if someone had walked into an era of myth and legend.


    There was music in the air as well as a strange one. As she walked further upwards, Relma saw before her Anoa the Bright. He sat upon his throne, clad in shining mail, and Lightning Trail was laid over his knees.


    "Relma, I have awaited your arrival," said Anoa.


    Relma knew at once that this was not fully real. Lightning Trail was by her side, after all. "Anoa?


    "How do you have a presence here?"


    "My presence extends over many domains," said Anoa. "Among them is this place, sustained by the Conquista''s obedience to my ancient command. Pantera called me into this place with her dying breath, and I answered."


    "What is in this place?" asked Relma, remembering that this realm was connected to hell. "What are you guarding?"


    "Only what is within you, of course," said Anoa. "What you see around you is akin to a... dream of sorts.


    "Those who enter this place see their own nature and the consequences of that nature. Some emerge stronger, others break.


    "Are you certain you wish to press on?"


    Relma considered the question for a long moment. Finally, she realized there was only one answer. "I have to see my own weaknesses if I''m going to be a good king."


    "A wise attitude, but perhaps not a healthy one," said Anoa. "Tell me, can a King be a King if she is not willing to kill?"


    "It''s not that I''m not willing to do it," said Relma. "I just don''t ever want to do it. I don''t want to rule or conquer anyone, and if I can avoid blood, I will."


    "Really?" asked Anoa. "It is one thing to say a thing. It is another thing to do it."


    And then the world changed.


    Relma was standing upon a path within a vast fortress. A stream was running downhill near her, and through the trees, she could see a sickly greenish sky. The sound of combat could be heard, and Relma listened for it, and in the distance, she saw smoke rising.


    She wondered where she was and put her hand to a sword. "Where...


    "Where is this?"


    And then a boy rushed down the slopes toward her, or at least she thought it was a boy. He was an elf, with blue skin, but further examination revealed scales all over him. As he saw her, he shuddered and then looked back. A figure was coming down after them. "Help! Help me please! You have to help me! They''re going to kill me!"


    "Who?" asked Relma, coming forward.


    "Adrianeth''s warriors, they''re after me," said the boy. "Please, don''t tell them I went this-"


    And then, out of the woods, stepped a huge humanoid lizard-creature. Relma had been told that lizardfolk were mortal shells for magical beings. They were beings impossible to comprehend. Yet this one seemed to be all too real and comprehensible to her, as he moved forward. He had orangish scales and teeth like a crocodile.


    "I am Ranush, servant of Adrianeth!" said the lizardfolk. "Step aside from that boy, girl. He is a fugitive from Adrianeth''s law."


    "What has he done?" asked Relma.


    "It''s not what he''s done," said Ranush. "It''s who he''s related to. He is a Prince of our enemies and could become a threat if he rallies them. I have killed many of his father''s warriors. And catching him will gain me further glory."


    "Why do you need glory?" asked Relma.


    "I need not answer to you!" said Ranush. "We kill whom we wish, and none dare resist us! That boy is Imras! The heir to one of our enemies, and he will die by our hand! If you oppose us, you, too will die!


    "Now step aside, and you shall be left unhurt."


    "Please, don''t let them take me. I don''t want to die," said Imras.


    "Then you''d better start acting the role of a Prince," said Relma. "Do you have any relatives or friends you can go to?"


    "Yes," said Imras. "My aunt, Sashraleen, has a fortified village with many allies."


    "Then go to her and ask for shelter," said Relma. "Don''t declare yourself to anyone until you''re sure whose side they''re on.


    "Go now."


    Ranush charged with a roar. Relma drew Lightning Trail and prepared for a fight. Then she remembered what had happened last time she did this against Ajax. So instead, taking a chance, she threw herself forward at Ranush''s feet. Grabbing him around the legs, she caused him to overbalance.


    With a cry, Ranush fell forward and landed hard on the ground. Relma then stood and leaped upon him from behind, hoping he wasn''t dead. One of the techniques of healing Relma had learned from Aunt Pan was putting someone into sleep. Relma was trained to do it when they were in pain, and she couldn''t heal them.


    Now, setting Lightning Trail to Ranush''s back, she channeled such a spell through it.


    Imras was watching still.


    "What are you waiting for?" asked Relma. "Stop cowering and get out of here! Live up to your name!"


    Imras ran as Ranush fell to the ground, unconscious.


    And the world shifted.


    Anoa was sitting before her, hands clasped together before him. "Why didn''t you kill him, may I ask? Ranush will not stop seeking that boy''s blood because he was stopped once. Far from it."


    "Maybe he will still try to kill the boy," said Relma. "Or maybe he''ll be more careful and change for the better. If I killed him, one person would be dead. This way, two people are alive and can change the world and themselves for the better."


    "Touching," said Anoa. "And what if neither changes for the better? What if Ranush simply becomes a worse murderer?"


    "Ranush is a soldier," said Relma. "And I could say the same for the boy. Maybe if I let the boy go, he''ll become a King. And he''ll be the worst king the world has ever known.


    "It could happen.


    "But I''m not willing to kill people simply because of what they could become. I don''t even want to kill people for what they are.


    "Was this supposed to be one of those things where I have to chose between my ideals and saving innocent life? Because those sorts of situations don''t really exist."


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    "The possibility of a situation where there is no good answer is one that all kings must face," said Anoa. "A point where you can only pick the lesser evil."


    "I don''t believe that," said Relma. "There is always a good decision you can make in any situation. Maybe it won''t always have good results, but that will be because of things outside of your control.


    "If you choose to do the right thing, and someone else does wrong, it does not make your decision evil. Only unlucky."


    "Well then," said Anoa. "Let us see how Ranush is using his new lease on life, shall we?"


    Relma was transported back to that world.


    Looking out, she found herself standing on a hill. As she did, she was looking down as people were fleeing from a flaming village. They were carrying whatever they could, some of them going armed. Relma saw Ranush and his men following them.


    "What is this?" murmured Relma.


    "Hide, quickly!" said someone. "The lizardfolk are coming! Ranush is coming!"


    Anoa stood beside her, pointing down to the village. "Even as we speak, the one you did not kill has obsessed with redeeming himself. He''s taken to fighting with extra viciousness.


    "Imras, meanwhile, has yet to be heard from."


    "Let me intervene," said Relma.


    "Why?" asked Anoa.


    "Let me stop them again," said Relma.


    "You do not even know if any of this is real. It could just be an illusion," said Anoa.


    "If it is just an illusion, then it doesn''t prove anything, does it?" asked Relma. "You could make it turn out anyway you want, no matter what I did. So it has to be real in some form."


    "Then why do you care?" asked Anoa.


    "It doesn''t matter if it is real or not to me," said Relma. "I can''t look at injustice and do nothing to stop it."


    "As you wish, Relma," said Anoa. "Perhaps being hacked to pieces will be of some educational value."


    Relma rushed down the hill, sword in hand, and watched as the people fled. Turning Lightning Trail around, Relma drove it into the ground before her. Then she waited as the people ran.


    "You," said a man. "Run! The lizardfolk are coming! Ranush is coming!"


    "I know," said Relma. "That''s why I''m here. Go on. I''ll deal with them."


    They left without words, murmuring among themselves, and Relma waited. Soon, around the bend came Ranush and his men, wielding tridents and axes. As they neared, however, they halted seeing Relma. She wondered if she looked so impressive.


    Oh wait, Ranush had recognized her, and he''d stopped. And as soon as he stopped, everyone else does.


    "Ranush," said Relma. "Why are you persecuting these people!"


    "You..." said Ranush, who was larger now. "What are you?! I know you from before, yet you have not aged a day."


    "Why are you attacking these people? What do you gain by it?" asked Relma.


    "They are resisting us, and we defeated them!" said Ranush. "They gave shelter to Prince Imras, who caught many of our brethren in an ambush and killed them to the man! Their land and lives are ours to do with as we wish! I need not justify my actions, for strength along is justifications!"


    "But I defeated you, didn''t I?" asked Relma. "You attacked me and were defeated. I left you alive. I took nothing from you. And Imras defeated your brethren. Does that not make his killings justified?"


    "It was your mistake to make, coming here!" snarled Ranush "I am far stronger now!"


    Relma wondered if she''d actually die if killed her. Anoa had seemed to think she''d survive somehow, but time to take a risk. "Then strike me down where I stand. I wouldn''t be able to defeat you, anyone."


    Ranush halted. "You admit this openly?"


    Relma laughed. "I''m a terrible fighter; I only won against you because of luck. So I was able to blindside you with healing magic.


    "If you came to me alone, fighting seriously, I''m sure I''d be dead. And if all these were to be sent against me? I wouldn''t have a chance."


    "You realize that it is within my power to kill you even now?" asked Ranush. "And yet you stand before me for these rebels?"


    "Everyone dies eventually," said Relma with a shrug. "Is it really strength to be able to hurt someone through violence? Does power come from the arm? Or the heart?"


    "You speak in meaningless riddles," noted Ranush.


    "Maybe I do," said Relma. "But if these people who are fleeing from you are truly so weak, then what do you gain by crushing them? You have already won; those that remain are beggers in the wilderness. They can do you no more harm.


    "So, what glory is there in crushing them?"


    Ranush halted and regarded her strangely. Then looked to where a number of his warriors were whispering among themselves. "...You are brave, indeed. Braver than some of my own warriors.


    "Take the refugees and guide them to wherever you will. I shall allow them to flee."


    The rest became a blur, and Relma knew it was her greater self who was leading those refugees. Yet her decision had been of the utmost importance.


    What was important was that she once more stood before the throne of Anoa.


    And he did not look happy. He seemed to be peering over the tapestries of fate, and it seemed to be turning against him. Relma smiled. "Satisfied?"


    "Yes, you''ve certainly done an excellent job of practicing appeasement," said Anoa. "Would you like to see a glimpse of destiny, Relma? Of the future that your actions will lead to."


    Suspicion was growing in her mind that Anoa was more than he pretended to be. Yet Relma had the feeling that she was missing half the pieces to a puzzle of sorts. Perhaps she already knew the answer. But she was now convinced that Anoa was far more than he appeared.


    "If you want," said Relma.


    Anoa stood from his throne, and as he did, all the realm shifted around him. And Relma found that she wore a helm and armor. Her armies were innumerable; she saw men from the Conquista, black and red dragons. And against her on a great hill were assembled legions.


    "Behold, the final battle," said Anoa. "Upon that hill sits the standard of House Gabriel, your enemies. They are even now mustering their forces in your own time. Duke William Gabriel seeks respect and power, and when denied it, he will take it by force. As you press your claims, they shall press theirs.


    "Those who hate you shall follow under his banner. They proclaim him the true Heir of Kings and see him as Anoa reborn. And many of those who have come to hate House Gabriel now join your supporters.


    "Now your armies stand opposed against them. What, Relma Artorious, will you do here?


    "There can be no truce without submission¡ªno victory without destroying the opposing army. Your enemy stands upon that hill, clad the armor of skulls. Many in your army will fight him, even if you submit.


    "No matter what decision you make, your actions have led to this war. And if victory is gained, you will be expected to hand the spoils out to your subordinates. Many of those who oppose you will be better men than those they are rewarding.


    "What will you do, Heir of Kings?"


    Relma shifted, considering why William would choose to oppose her. The reasons were obvious, of course. His family was rising in power and might become Kings someday. Vanion Gabriel was already enemies with Arengeth. They''d sheltered Tanith when she''d fled, after all, no questions asked.


    Perhaps if she could befriend William, get him to see her side of things. A political marriage might even be doable. Relma supposed she could marry William ensuring a line of kings.


    The world shifted.


    Yet the battle had not gone away. Instead, Relma saw the forces of Haldren assembled upon the hill before them. Other houses she had not met, houses of Antion. And with them stood the banner of Sorn, and several other nations.


    "I don''t..."


    "House Gabriel has many virtues," said Anoa. "And virtuous men gain power. Power invites jealousy. Those who saw House Gabriel, their nemesis about to become Kings of Harlenor, rebelled. And so now you face another alliance.


    "And because they were less powerful than the Gabriel alliance, they called in help. Sorn was only too happy to take their part for a favorable trade arrangement. And with their money, an army of mercenaries was hired."


    Relma considered how she could appeal to these people and House Gabriel. But she knew virtually nothing about Sorn and had never been to these places. Without understanding them, how could she negotiate? And what could she offer them?


    Nothing.


    Relma came up with a few ideas of going to these places and trying to unify people. But realistically, she''d only have ideals. Her previous attempts at peacemaking hadn''t worked because she smiled a lot. Centuries'' worth of hatred and rivalry could not be destroyed easily. Not even if everyone became friends.


    Friendship could be the basis of peace, but it could not create peace itself. Friendships could be broken by economic need and selfishness. The Gabriel-Vortegex-Estal vendetta proved that much. At the end of the day, the nations were competing for resources, and there would be haves and have nots. Relma would have to reward her followers and punish her enemies once there was a war. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And there would be war.


    As Relma''s powerbase increased, other powers would be afraid of her. And they would not be so easily integrated into her new order. Not once she had obligations to her existing followers.


    "You understand, don''t you?" asked Anoa. "War cannot be stopped. Only postponed to one faction''s benefit. You cannot please everyone, and if you attempt to do so, you will only alienate your allies.


    "Sooner or later, you will have to march to war to defend what you have built.


    "How do you intend to do so without being willing to kill? Assuming you haven''t already done so. You''ve inspired a great many killers, after all, that could be put on your hands."


    Relma came to one, inevitable answer. "...I don''t know."


    "Then perhaps you should consider as much," said Anoa. "For there will come a day when no kind words or clever thinking shall save you. Only steel may do that. Remember this vision, for someday, it may come true."


    Relma nodded, and as she did, the throne surrounding her faded away. Looking to Anoa, she saw him fading into a dark figure. And she saw his true nature. "I will.


    "Thank you, Melchious."


    "My name has no meaning to me," was the only response.


    The cave was empty, and something in the air seemed to snap. The darkness that had consumed the cave faded away. Relma turned and made her way up the slope of the cave, coming out of it. And before her, she saw many people around her.


    Relma felt exhausted, suddenly, and her every inch hurt. She wondered how she would have faired without Lightning Trail.


    "You''ve emerged from the Den of Pantera, and you live?" asked a man.


    "Yes..." said Relma, looking back. "The enchantment is broken."


    "...Who are you?" said someone.


    And Relma had her answer. "I am Relma Artorious, the Heir of Kings and Angel of Virtue.


    "And I have come to save this land."

 Chapter 375 - Thirteen: Durag

    The rest of the day passed without much in the way of events. Relma took this to be a good sign.


    Granted, people were awestruck. Relma spent a good deal longer healing some ailments. New wounded arrived from other battlefields, and a man hurt himself plowing. But overall, Relma had an ordinary day and slept peacefully until that morning.


    As Relma awoke the next morning, Quxillang woke her, tossing a traveling pack at her. "Relma, get up; we have a journey ahead of us."


    "Where to?" asked Relma, rising quickly.


    "To the realm of Durag, of course," said Montazus, standing some way away with some of his men. "I have communed with the Emperor, and he has dictated that your plan is to be given a trial."


    "Oh, good to know," said Relma, who hadn''t been expecting much else. Then she looked at the pyre. "Do they ever bury those bones?"


    "Of course not," said Montazus. "The bones remain in the pyre until they become ashes and are cast away by the wind. Such is tradition.


    "Durag shall meet us at the gates."


    And they were off, further into the highlands and away from this fertile region. As they walked, Relma glanced back to the village. She then realized that William had spent all this time doing this thing regularly. And she doubted very much that he''d been given nearly so awed a reception.


    Relma probably never would have started doing it if she hadn''t heard he was doing it. That wasn''t to say William wasn''t far too proud for his good. But it disturbed her a bit that he at least appeared to have more empathy. Then again, Relma was the incarnation of an Angel of Virtue, not kindness or compassion.


    Speaking of which, Relma wanted to know exactly how her actions fit into all this. Had she been destined to hijack the prophecy, to begin with? Or had she willingly chosen to try and hijack it against what she was supposed to do? Perhaps she, the Angel of Virtue, had been intended to bear the son who became the Heir of Kings. Only she went into it with ulterior motives and planned to take that destiny for herself all along.


    And did Relma Artorious exist? Or was she just a mask that the angel herself believed in?


    All these questions seemed destined to have very depressing answers, so Relma chose to ignore them. Instead, as they walked into a great valley with many black trees, she looked to Montazus. "Where are these gates?"


    "Not far," said Montazus. "At the far end of this valley."


    The black trees, however, became more and more like claws as they walked. They seemed to be grasping at Relma. The grass at their feet caught on their boots and sandals, trying to drag them down. And the sun, far above, was becoming a baleful green.


    "The land is changing..." mused Relma. "What is this?"


    "This is the domain of Envy. Or part of it," said Montazus. ''Durag''s realm exists in a place connected to the hells of Envy."


    "Right, because Lucius is the Demonic Archon of Envy, of course," said Relma. She remembered Aunt Pan''s lessons. "Are they connected at all?"


    "Lucius and Durag are aware of one another, but they rarely converse to my knowledge," said Montazus. "Though he may well be doing so without our knowledge. Durag is effectively the reigning demon of Envy within this place. However, I do not think he has formally ascended.


    "The man is a monster, and you may prefer to have been burned on a pyre than meet with him. At least pain can teach."


    "What does it mean to ascend into demonhood?" asked Relma, letting the latter statement pass.


    "It is a black ritual that willingly transforms your soul into that of a demon," said Montazus. "Pantera went through such a spell. You raise your soul fully into hell without being consumed by it.


    "In doing so, you can take on a form of mockery of the Gods. You may create avatars that contain only a fraction of your true self. Perhaps even incarnate in new lives. Yet all of those lives will be drawn invariably toward your demonic self.


    "It is a trap of sorts.


    "And those who fall into it badly deserve the snare. Even Durag wasn''t enough of a fool enough to take it."


    "You don''t seem to like Durag," said Relma.


    "Of course, I don''t like Durag," said Montazus. "He has no time for true wisdom. And if he ever succeeds, the Sun Soul Empire intends to put the lights out."


    Relma stared at him. "Really? What''s so bad about his ideal world?"


    "Some things are worse than death," said Montazus. "Or else it would never have been made as a solution."


    "As opposed to forcing people into eternal torment?" asked Relma.


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    "I shall gladly give my soul to what you call torment. As will everyone else in the Sun Soul Empire," said Montazus simply. "I have many pains in my being from years of life, and they have brought me greater wisdom. All spirits who are fed to the sun shall likewise come to wisdom.


    "And wisdom is far preferable to pleasure.


    "Here we are."


    Relma decided she did not understand Montazus at all. There were elements of him she did, but she was not enough of a fool enough to think she knew it all. For now, she withheld judgment as they came to the gates.


    They were simple metal doors. There was no trace of rust or wear on them, and there was no adornment. In front of them, Relma saw a skeletal figure floating in the air, shrouded in what looked like a cloak of shadow. Its face was thick and had two bull horns on either side, and skeletal hands were behind its back. At the center of its bony forehead was a bright red gem.


    "Greetings to both of you," said a raspy voice. "I am Durag, and I wish to personally welcome you to my domain. It would be my utmost pleasure to give you a tour of my operations if you wish."


    Relma was not surprised at the greeting. Most undead she''d met had been very polite. She would have been more surprised to find him coarse and rough. "I''d like that.


    "However, I must communicate with those north of my contacts to prevent a war from breaking out."


    "Of course," said Durag, nodding. "Follow me, and I shall bring you to a room to facilitate your communication.


    "Montazus, will you accompany us?"


    "I have been recalled to the Empire," said Montazus. Word has come to me that Pantera has begun a new series of killings, and I am needed."


    "I understand," said Durag. "Follow me, Queen Relma."


    "I''m not a Queen," said Relma. "And if I ever become a monarch, I''ll be a King."


    "Hmm, why would that be?" asked Durag, opening the door.


    "Anoa the Bright thought that absolute power should have only one word," said Relma. One of his actions was insisting that there would be only one word for a given thing. He tried to rewrite the language and simplify it, but he never fully succeeded.


    "But he created a trade language that most people use when traveling. He was very insistent that the absolute monarch of Harlenor United was a king. Whether they were a girl or a boy. Though we''ve never actually had a female King."


    "Fascinating," said Durag. "A logical concept. Would Princess, then, be a preferable title?"


    "Just call me Relma," said Relma. "That name suits me best."


    "As you wish," said Durag.


    The door opened, and they walked into halls lined with metal. There were no torches, only spheres emitting light. All of them were placed at set intervals, with no decorations. Durag led her along these halls, and Relma saw that each way through the caves had a sign leading away.


    "May I ask why this place is plain," asked Relma.


    "Plain?" asked Durag. "Ah yes, the lack of ornament or decoration. I suppose it must seem odd to someone from the outside. My clan and I much prefer practical building. We adhere to a... utilitarian philosophy. We do not waste time on decorations that could be spent on tools or weapons."


    "Well, it must be far easier to clean," said Relma, looking at the floor and finding it very clear indeed. On the way, she passed a bleached white skeleton mopping it.


    "Very much so, which saves us more time," said Durag.


    Then they came to another door. Durag drew out some keys and opened them. Beyond was a room where many bleached white skeletons were doing their tasks. They seemed to be experimenting with chemicals.


    "Your servants..." said Relma, wondering where the dwarves were.


    "Yes?" asked Durag.


    "Well, I just noticed that the undead here are... well... all bleached white and bare," said Relma. "There isn''t any blood or anything on them."


    "Another practical element," said Durag. "Undead we''re using as infantry and defense forces generally die very quickly. And the blood and guts tend to scare people and help things.


    "These, however, spend their time performing tasks that require sanitation. Thus, we drain the blood and remove the flesh before reanimation."


    "Ah, and how do you do that, exactly?" asked Relma before kicking herself for asking the question.


    "A somewhat complicated ritual," said Durag. Thank Elranor, he had taken her to be asking about the spellcraft. "A large part of it is motivated the spirit within the corpse to cooperate. The plane of Envy is very helpful in this regard; many of the souls we use are drawn from hell."


    "So the undead are the spirits of the damned?" asked Relma, feeling a bit sick.


    "More specifically, those who were fed to Diabolus," said Durag. "We find they are in no position to bargain and rarely of any real sanity. So it''s a simple matter to manipulate them in exchange for a temporary escape."


    "That''s kind of you," said Relma, feeling more than a little disturbed. "I''m told you wanted to meet with Wrynncurth. Why the interest?"


    "Wrynncurth was always something of an inspiration for me," said Durag. His voice held a bit of emotion as he came to a final door. "He is, after all, one of the great necromancers of the world. I''d always wanted to meet him and compare notes. Especially with how he has a wholly different approach to the creation of undead."


    "What makes you say that?" asked Relma.


    "My associate, the cyclops Akar, brought back several of Wrynncurth''s bodies. They amaze me," said Durag. "They are the work of a true artisan compared to my own."


    "What would you call your own?" asked Relma.


    "An assembly line," said Durag. "I prefer quantity to quality, as numbers have a quality of its own. The more of something you produce, the more of the innate flaws in the design you pick out."


    "Ah, yes, may I ask something else," said Relma.


    "Of course," said Durag.


    "Why do the Conquista hate you enough that they send people out on quests to destroy you?" asked Relma.


    Durag looked up in what might have been bemusement. "Ah, that question.


    "Well, the truth of the matter is that my people in Highwatch used to be allied with the Conquista. When they first came to these lands, we fought together against the Sun Soul Empire and the Dragon Empire. During those days, the Conquista had holdings all across the mainland.


    "In my days as a mortal, I arranged for the breaking of our alliance. What they view as a breach of trust led to the loss of their territory to the Dragon Empire."


    "Why did you break the pact?" asked Relma.


    "A man has no obligation to any nation save his own," said Durag. "We stood to gain more by an alliance with the Dragon and Sun Soul Empires than we did by staying with the Conquista. So we turned on them.


    "It led to a series of defeats and the decline of their empire.


    "I gather they felt their mission of fighting their way to the Pass of Dragon Bones had nearly been complete. In any case, I have no regrets."


    "Are you still part of Highwatch, then?" asked Relma.


    "I am... associated with Highwatch," said Durag. "A tenuous alliance, more so than I''d like."


    "But you said men have an obligation to their nations?" asked Relma. "Why is it tenuous?"


    "Not everyone within High Watch understood the need for my actions," said Durag. "You have a call to make." And he opened the door.

 Chapter 376 - Fourteen: Dinner with Durag

    The chamber within that Relma saw was a circular metal one without decoration of any kind. The floor was well-cleaned and shined so you could see your own face within it, and the ceiling was low. It gave off a chilling feeling for Relma as she walked in. At the center was an unadorned altar with a box within it. It was black and made of metal, and Relma eyed it with concern.


    She had a bad feeling about this.


    "Ah, and here it is at last. This place will allow one to reach people far away from us. So long as they have a place in the Road of Ancient Stone," said Durag. "You should be able to locate Lucius easily enough."


    "Thank you," said Relma. "How do I work it?"


    "Simply place your hand into the box," said Durag. "Oh, mind you, this device can be... painful to use. And it gets worse the longer you use it. I recommend preparing yourself and then only talking for a short time."


    "How do I use it?" asked Relma.


    "Simply focus on who you wish to speak with," said Durag. "Lucius should be available. He usually is." Then he turned and walked on out, shutting the door slowly.


    Within the room, Relma could only see a little. She checked to make sure the door was not locked. "Thank you."


    Then Relma inserted her hand into the box.


    As she did, she felt a slight tickling sensation in her hand, which made her flex her hand instinctively. Focusing, she sent her will out to Lucius as quickly as she could.


    "Ah, Relma, I had hoped you''d be able to make contact, though not in this manner," said Lucius. "Are you using Durag''s magic?"


    "Yes," said Relma, feeling the tickling become pointed. She tried not to think about it.


    "Not a prisoner, I hope?" asked Lucius. "He is generally the sort to let them communicate to gain leverage."


    "No, I-" Relma felt a spark of pain and drew the hand out on reflex. Then she put it back in and felt the tickling. Lucius'' presence was there.


    "Relma," said Lucius. "Your connection broke out. He''s not forcing you to use the communications box, is he?"


    "Not forcing," said Relma. Then she drew out the hand and put it back in. "Just giving me the option." The tickling seemed to be turning to pain much faster. "I was taken captive by the Sun Soul Empire, but I convinced them to take me here. I''ve offered to try and negotiate a ceasefire to their benefit with the Dragon... Dragon Empire!"


    With a cry, Relma steadied herself and focused on controlling her pain. She let it wash through her and dulled it. She decided to try Montazus'' theory.


    "I see," said Lucius. "I would guess, then, that you want me to make contact with Queen Isriath, as well as Telix''s Brood?"


    "Yes," said Relma, her every fiber trying to force her to take her hand out. "There is information I need to give them on how things are going here." The pain was getting worse, but Relma was able to steady herself. She felt her hand blackening, and even if she knew she wasn''t being hurt, there was the reflex to draw it out.


    "Well, that doesn''t sound too unreasonable," said Lucius ruefully. "I recommend drawing up some notes before you make any official contact, however. You want to have your agenda set."


    "I''ll keep it in mind!" said Relma before drawing out her hand. She looked at her hand for a moment, making sure it wasn''t burning up. It wasn''t, of course, and she knew she could not afford to end the conversation here.


    The flesh was completely whole.


    Putting it back in was even more difficult, and she was assailed with the same agony. Her attempts to dull her pain with healing were of little use, and controlling it sent sweat down her brow.


    "I recommend cutting this conversation short; Durag''s spells are painful. Is there anything else?" asked Lucius.


    "Tell Aren not to launch any invasion!" gasped Relma, letting out a scream despite herself. She tried to focus on other things, on how this pain would be dished out to so many others if war happened. "I think I can establish a permanent peace! I have to go!"


    And she jerked it out.


    The agony took a little while to fade away, and Relma did not feel any wiser for having felt it. Though at least she had gotten the job done. Glancing back, she saw the door open and light return. Durag floated in. "...Interesting.


    "Most humans I tested the technique with were screaming in agony far sooner. You must be far stronger, somehow."


    "You''ve done this experiment before?" asked Relma.


    "Well, I do enjoy observing events," said Durag. "I''ve already tested strong-willed humans caught unawares and weak-willed humans caught unawares. The logical step would be to focus on those warned ahead of time.


    "And it is the only means to speak with Lucius, so perhaps you will forgive me."


    "I might," said Relma.


    She did not see that this kind of agony could teach any lesson, nor did she think that any cause was worth inflicting it. "This box... it simulates the feeling of burning inflicted by the Sun Spirit?"


    "Inflicted would be the wrong word," said Durag. "The Sun Spirit is more a present, with no true consciousness. The Sun Soul Empire has attributed it to the characteristics of their ideals.


    "In any case, welcome to my home. Will you dine with me?"


    Relma wanted badly to tell him to go to hell. But, at the same time, Relma knew that she couldn''t let pain distract her from what mattered. "Yes, I... I think I will."


    "Then follow me," said Durag with a bow.


    He led her into a dining hall, where two plates were being laid out. At the center was a long oaken table. The walls around it were decorated with symbols of great battles. A bookcase was on one of the far walls.


    Among them were such titles as:


    The Founding of Highwatch; the Saga of Beus Karakan.


    The First Sun Wars: the First Emperor


    The Fall of Malatrus: How the son betrayed the Sun


    "Who were Beus Karakan and Malatrus?" asked Relma.


    "The founders of Highwatch and the Sun Soul Empire, respectively. They were sworn enemies," said Durag, floating toward her. "Beus killed Malatrus by converting his firstborn, Muxil, to worship Barden. That, and trying to force a change of religion. Malatrus and Muxil killed each other, and his second-born took over.


    "Though perhaps you guessed some of that from the book titles. Though are some of my works."


    "You wrote them?" asked Relma, surprised.


    "Transcribed, actually," said Durag. "The Sun Soul Empire communicates stories orally from person to person. They do it with specially trained storytellers, and there is a device that involves strings and beads. The name escapes me.


    "But it is remarkably accurate for a system with no writing. I have taken time to learn and record as many of them as I can find here.


    "Please, sit down.


    "We can speak of Malatrus and Beus while we, well, you, eat."


    Sit down they did, and Relma was brought a number of truly delicious-looking meals. These were brought to them by living dwarves with neatly trimmed beards. They said nothing as the meals were placed on silver dishes.


    "This dining hall is beautiful," said Relma, eating and enjoying the meal very much.


    "Yes, well, here is where I receive guests usually," said Durag. "There is a rational reason for ornament in this place. You''ll find ancient dwarven designs in this place."


    "Do you use it often?" asked Relma, finding the bread unique. It had a light, fluffy texture and seemed to have many layers.


    "I don''t believe I''ve been in this room before," said Durag. "I must have had it made two or three hundred years ago, but I fear I''ve never had to use it. I do not eat, you see.


    "And when I did, I far preferred to eat alone."


    "Don''t your allies ever visit you?" asked Relma. In Harlenor, visits between allies were standard practice. If they stopped happening, it was suspicious at best.


    "They do, but the priests of the Sun Soul Empire do not dine with me," said Durag. "And, well, my homeland has never accepted my choices."


    "What choices?" asked Relma, trying the meat.


    "When I chose to begin using the Withering for my ends, Highwatch was verging on collapse," said Durag. "The Conquista of Anoa were our allies, but we increasingly relied on them. I remember that they kept changing the terms of our alliance. They were giving us one pretty word for extortion after another.


    "It was when we gave them the secret of gunpowder that I realized our alliance was unsustainable. Even if we triumphed over the Sun Soul Empire, which then was a great power, we''d be junior partners at best. Or, more likely, slaves.


    "After all, the Conquista was originally just knights and their soldiers. Their serfs are descended from those they conquered from the Sun Soul Empire. At least those among them who survived Laevian''s plagues.


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    "Where was I?"


    "Turning on the Conquista," said Relma, wondering what plague Laevian had sent in here. And how, for that matter? She''d heard rumors of such plagues coming during the Tournament of Kings. Laevian was quite merciless.


    "Ah, yes," said Durag. "At any rate, assessing my options, I staged a coup and arranged for a loyalties change.


    "The Sun Soul Empire had a great deal to gain from working with us and much to lose. With our help, we were able to weaken both the Dragon Empire and the Conquista.


    "And once I had contact with the Sun Soul Empire, I was able to find those who did not enjoy serving them. Leaving Highwatch, I set up my kingdom in this domain, alongside my followers. At first, we were small but over time, were able to gain the villagers'' loyalty here.


    "The rest, as they say, is history."


    "I''m not very familiar with your history," said Relma, deciding on the truth.


    "Ah yes, of course," said Durag. "Well, Highwatch needs me to maintain a buffer state between them and the Sun Soul Empire. The Conquista needs me to serve as a scapegoat. I save them from the natural consequences of their imperialist agenda. The Sun Soul Empire needs me to keep its borders intact. And, of course, the Dragon Empire needs me to keep Bryag from coming home."


    "What do you mean by that?" asked Relma, eating some delicious spiced meat. Though she had her suspicions, Vanessa might benefit from not having Bryag able to move in and take revenge.


    "You don''t imagine that Bryag would be content to sit all day idly if there were not some grave threat to his people?" asked Durag, confirming her suspicions. "As long as I send the undead across that bridge, he has something to occupy his time with. That being putting the mutilated souls of the damned out of their misery.


    "As long as he is otherwise occupied, Bryag will never try to kill those who take advantage of him. If ever he did decide to, I imagine he''d be able to kill a great many of them before they took him down. Even if they would never admit it.


    "So, I more or less perform an integral service to every single major faction, and they hate me for it."


    "I don''t see why the Conquista needs you," admitted Relma. "In fact, they said they wanted me to kill you."


    "Oh yes, they are the spanner in the works if you''ll forgive the unworldly expression," said Durag.


    "What does it mean?" asked Relma. She tried some of the rice, spiced a yellow color with many vegetables.


    "Well, on certain worlds, far from this one, there are machines," said Durag. "Very sophisticated machines meant to manufacture various devices. One surefire means of sabotaging them is to put a tool called a spanner on the conveyor belt.


    "The machine tries to work with the device, but it can''t bend or change the metal. So all the equipment gets broken, and someone has to be called in to repair it. I''m told that it''s a common means of sabotage.


    "The practice has been compared to how a single bold hero tends to derail even the best-laid plans. Often without even realizing they are doing it.


    "Which brings us neatly to the Conquista. You see, they would actually be far worse off if I died.


    "Without me, the Dragon Empire would be able to devastate the Sun Soul Empire quite easily. With that done, they''d naturally focus their full attention on the Conquista.


    "The problem is that I''m afraid the Conquista don''t particularly care.


    "They''d been trying to fulfill their mission of bringing horses to King Anoa for a very long time now. And I''m fairly certain they are willing to destroy themselves if it means achieving that goal.


    "Few things indeed are more dangerous to a well-ordered scheme than a man of principle. How are you enjoying the food?"


    "This meal is excellent," said Relma, having never tasted anything better. "Though the second course is far... denser than the first."


    "The first was a kind of bread made by elves, meant to be light. The second curse is Dwarven cuisine, meant to have strength of flavor," said Durag. "I fear I can''t eat anymore. But I keep cooks on hand to feed my mortal subordinates. Now, perhaps you could tell me some news of what things are like to the north of here?"


    "That seems only fair," said Relma.


    And so Durag began to ask questions in turn of Relma about how things had been going. He seemed interested in the reasons for the Escorian Civil War. And he often asked questions about the rulers. Relma found she could answer plenty of questions about Escor and Antion. But she knew very little about Haldren other than that House Gabriel was based there.


    Under his queries, Relma was faced with many things she didn''t know. Several times, she had to take a swig of the ale provided. It was the strongest stuff she''d ever had, and she quickly had to stop.


    "Do you enjoy the ale?" asked Durag. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I admit, I um, I''ve never had this much ale before," said Relma, inhibitions dropping. "My Aunt Pan generally doesn''t like me drinking this much."


    "Yes, well, ale has always been the favored drink of dwarves in these parts," said Durag. "We''ve cut this with water, of course, too much would harm you. I''ve actually discovered exactly how much alcohol someone of your weight can drink. Not accounting for magical healing, of course."


    "How did you do that?" asked Relma, curious. It seemed the kind of question that would be difficult to find the answer to.


    "Well, I am called a Scientist King for a reason," said Durag. "Most of my experiments might seem very petty and pointless. Yet they provide very real information that can be very useful.


    "For instance, do you know how long a man can go without starving?"


    "No," said Relma, not liking the question.


    "I do," said Durag. "I''ve taken precise notes on the subject of all kinds of body types and such. And it has been very helpful during famines in my villages.


    "I can allocate rations to my people so as to ensure as many as possible survive. If I didn''t have that information, many more would have died in a famine ten years ago. With it, I was able to ensure the best possible outcome.


    "Now tell me of these plans you have? I''d be very interested in hearing."


    "That''s a bit of a complicated thing, and I''d have to coordinate with everyone to do them," said Relma. "However, my hope is that we''ll be able to set up some kind of long-term truce. There is a powerful alliance forming to the North in Escor, with many powerful figures within it. Fairies, werewolves, the kingdom of Escor, and many more."


    "Are you the head of this alliance?" asked Durag.


    "Well, not technically, but I did put a lot of it together," said Relma. "If we can set up communication between you, the Sun Soul Empire, and Escor, we could force the Dragon Empire to terms."


    "Are you not working for them?" asked Durag.


    "I''m not working for anyone," said Relma quickly. "Not even myself. I want to set up a dialogue between all the great powers. Once that happens, I want there to be a council of powers who can work out their differences peacefully.


    "And if a war does break out, we can use the council to negotiate an end."


    "A council presided over by you?" guessed Durag.


    Relma reflected that the way things were going, it would be her. She was rapidly becoming the only unifying element. "Well, I don''t actually want to hold the position. But, as the Heir of Kings and the person putting this together, if I were asked to take the position, I could hardly say no."


    "So you mean you," said Durag again in amusement.


    "Yes, I suppose I do," said Relma. "If there were someone better for the position, though, I''d hand control over to them." Or she hoped she would. "May I ask you something, Lord Durag?"


    "Please, just Durag, titles have no place among the enlightened," said Durag. "They are meant to impress peasants and weak-minded younger sons. To those of greater reason, they are but meaningless formalities.


    "And you may."


    "Why are you so interested in meeting Wrynncurth?" asked Relma. "I mean, you sent an army after us."


    "Ah yes, that," said Durag. "Well, Akar has always been a zealous supporter, if not a bright one. I had hoped to invite you; however, your meeting with the Dragon Queen shifted things a touch. You became an enemy agent. In addition, well, until recently, the Sun Soul Empire wanted you for fuel.


    "The usual sort of cutthroat politics. Though I must thank you for killing so many undead in the process, it has taken a great deal of strain off my mind."


    Relma made a not to ask about that last comment later. "But did you think Wrynncurth would not respond? He''d likely be upset."


    "My dear girl, I hope you will come to learn that one person''s good cannot be another," said Durag. "Even men who are enjoying the same experience are enjoying two separate experiences. After all, experiences are a result of who we are, and no two people are wholly alike."


    Relma paused. "...I don''t understand your answer."


    "Well, that''s a brave thing to admit," said Durag. "How do I put this? We, as people, exist wholly independent of the others. Even though we are sitting in the same room, how do we know the other exists? How do we even know the room exists? Perhaps all the world is a vast illusion to deceive our senses?"


    "Well, it doesn''t matter, does it?" asked Relma. "If we see other people, we''ve got an obligation to treat them with respect. Even if we aren''t sure, they exist. Even if the universe around you is fake, you have the same moral obligations to it."


    "Hmm, but what is the purpose of good deeds?" asked Durag. "What meaning do they possess?


    "It is, perhaps, true that certain deeds can make a person happier, while others may cause stress or guilt. And many less advanced intellects believe that because of this, those things are evil or good.


    "But what are evil and good? How can you define them?"


    "They are what you ought to do and what you ought not to do," said Relma, fairly certain in her answer.


    "And why ought you do them or not? Who made these rules?" asked Durag.


    "The gods, I imagine," said Relma, now less certain.


    "But the gods do not fully embrace they''re own rules and often disagree, do they not?" asked Durag.


    Relma remembered her studies under Benarus and some of the theories he had provided her. Writings by the Church of Elranor. "...I read in Gel Carn a theory that there is a greater, ultimate God beyond the Soul Event Horizon. One who is completely good and all-powerful."


    "But there you are saying it again, aren''t you?" asked Durag. "According to you, God is completely good. But for him to be good, good must be a thing that exists independently of him. And if it exists independent of him, he cannot be all-powerful.


    "And if good is defined by him, then good is merely his personal preference. An arbitrary preference at that, since no conditions exist independent of his will. What if he were to declare that lying, murder, and rape were good deeds tomorrow."


    "I imagine he wouldn''t," said Relma.


    "But what if he did?" asked Durag.


    Relma considered her answer. The possibility of God, if he existed, forcing the races to uphold one set of rules. All only to upend them disturbed her. It was then she realized that such a thing was a deception. "Then he''d be a liar and therefore not all-good or all-powerful. And if he could make those things good, then he could just as easily rewrite all of reality to fit the new rules."


    "But, if he defines what good and evil are, he could change the rules within the context of his own subcreation?" asked Durag. "And he could still make it good."


    Relma paused. "...You''re assuming that he intended everything to be as is. But the fact that we are serving lesser gods indicates it isn''t. Perhaps he lets us determine our own reality. Then sets in place rules appropriate to the reality we create.


    "In which case, he has created laws of morality appropriate to each world. In a world where rape, murder, and lying were beneficial, they may be considered good with none of the ill effects. But if so, it would have been defined for our benefit, not for his own."


    "And what would the goal of such rules be, if good and evil are a means to an end?" asked Durag.


    "To prevent people from regressing into beasts. That and ensuring we continue to grow closer to perfection," said Relma, a bit too quick for her own liking.


    Durag, who had begun to lean forward across the table, sat back in her chair. "There, you have my answer."


    Relma tried to work out what he meant by that. The conversation had changed a lot, and she was having trouble keeping track of it. "What answer, what are you talking about?"


    "Power is the only goal that anyone really seeks," said Durag, clasping his hands and leaning back. "Whether it is power through money, power through weapons, or power through sorcery. Perhaps even power through friendship. Powerful men understand this, for they must in order to stay that way. And Wrynncurth is a very powerful man."


    "What about the ultimate deity?" asked Relma.


    "He too is seeking to increase his power," said Durag. "After all, if one is all-powerful, the universe itself is but a figment of his thoughts. So how can he exact his will? Power is defined by your ability to defeat obstacles. And nothing is, by definition, an obstacle to him.


    "That is why he allows creatures to grow in power independent of itself. God does not desire subjects, but a rival against whom he can strive."


    Relma found a sense of awareness growing on her mind. "Would that be you?"


    Durag probably would have smiled if he had lips. He managed to exude an aura of smugness without them. "Well, everyone needs a longterm dream, I suppose.


    "Would you care for a tour of my experiments?"


    Relma wasn''t sure she wanted to know. But she did know that she needed to know. She guessed that knowing unpleasant truths was the cost of the ruling. "I would like that very much."

 Chapter 377 - Fifteen: The Realm of the Dead

    The tour began.


    Durag led Relma out of the dining hall while things were cleared away. They walked now through a tunnel of smoothed rock. On the walls here, Relma saw some actual designs. They showed many dwarves marching with spears and square shields. Their helms and armor had a death motif, much like William bore in his. As they walked, they came to two statues before them on either side of gray. One was of a beautiful maiden in flowing garb, standing with a hand upraised. The other, on the right, was kneeling in prayer. Her face was solemn, and a sword was in her hands.


    Relma thought they were very beautiful, particularly liking the one on the left. It seemed somehow majestic and nice.


    "These statues are beautiful," said Relma.


    "Yes, we don''t usually make statues, to be honest," said Durag. "They take a great deal of effort and are not a practical form of decoration. These, however, were forged recently.


    "However, the details seemed worthwhile."


    "Who are these angels of?" asked Relma, moving in to get a closer look.


    "The Angel of Virtue, Rasoria on the left," said Durag. "And the Angel of Ways, Gabora, on the right."


    "I am Rasoria," mused Relma. "But who is Gabora?" Why did she like her own statue so much? What did that say about her? But then, she hadn''t known it was supposed to be her and it might not even look like her.


    "A being who serves Barden," said Durag. "Mostly specializing in connecting different faraway places and bring about greater civilization."


    They walked between the angels and came to an area where a pit was being filled with a gray material by dwarves. As Durag approached, one of the dwarves saluted but said nothing.


    "What is this?" asked Relma.


    "Don''t step too near," said Durag. "We are experimenting with a new form of building material. A chemical mixture, which, when combined, turns from liquid into stone. We call it cement.


    "You mix together a paste with certain rocks and then pour it into a mold."


    "Then those statues weren''t carved?" asked Relma.


    "No, however, the molds took a truly painstaking amount of work to set up," said Durag. "It was why I made them in the first place. I wanted to see what I could make.


    "Tell me, have you seen the guns of the Conquista?"


    "Yes," said Relma.


    "Yes, well, guns are a very useful invention. However, they have some critical weaknesses," said Durag and he led her over to a series of targets. A row of guns was laid out on racks. "For one thing, they create a massive amount of noise and smoke and are dangerous to the wielder. In bad weather, they are almost useless. And, last, of all, they are worthless against spiritual entities.


    "Demons, spirits, and the divine are more or less immune to guns. All these things mean they are only useful against mortals. And lightly armored mortals at that. Even so, they have certain benefits." sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What makes you say that?" asked Relma. This information seemed like the sort of thing she might need to know. Perhaps she could use these guns for her own purposes when she became King?


    "A somewhat complicated explanation," said Durag. "Demons, spirits, and angels are not harmed by physical objects. It is what is put into those physical objects that kill them. A weapon that was painstakingly crafted by a master will be far more effective. And when wielded by someone who trained for years in its use will be even more so."


    "Guns, however, require virtually no training to use properly." He took a gun and aimed it downrange. "You merely point-


    "And fire." He pulled the trigger, and there was a noise like thunder, as smug filled the air. Relma looked and saw he''d missed the target completely. It seemed to chip off a chunk of the wall, though. Durag let out what might have been a sigh and Relma didn''t feel comfortable saying anything. "Unfortunately, it doesn''t take as much effort to learn to use one. Advantageous for a militia, but the less time spent working on something, the less it means to you. They are also inaccurate and impersonal.


    "When you are up close and fighting a demon hand to hand, it is a very personal matter. Shooting at them with a bow is less so. It takes a trained archer to piece a demon''s armor.


    "Guns take neither extensive training nor immense discipline, and they are impersonal.


    "As such, well, perhaps we should demonstrate," He snatched up another gun and showed it to Relma. "Aim this gun straight at me and fire."


    "I''m sorry, what," said Relma, taking the gun and checking the trigger.


    "Shoot me," said Durag. "You needn''t worry; I have no vital organs. Just aim and fire."


    "I uh... well, to be honest, I wouldn''t feel comfortable," said Relma. She remembered the Tournament of Kings, when Estela had fired an arrow into her by accident. Thatw as not something she wanted to repeat. "A friend of mine accidentally shot me in this sort of situation."


    "Oh very well, you, take this and fire," said Durag, and a dwarf took the gun.


    "Me?" said the dwarf. "But Master Durag-"


    "Do so, that''s an order," said Durag.


    The dwarf nodded. "Yes, master Durag."


    The dwarf pulled the trigger, and the gun went off again. It was directly against Durag''s breast. Yes, there was no discernable difference. "You see? Not a hole in me. There''s nothing inherently personal about shooting a gun. It takes very little training to do properly. And there is nothing special about the weapon itself.


    "Now, let''s see what happens when we fire this same device at that suit of armor." He pointed some ways off to where a suit of armor stood. "You, get a trained marksman to shoot it, will you."


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    The dwarf nodded and hurried off. A little time later, another dwarf came with a rifle. He filled the weapon with powder from a horn, then cocked it and fired. Once again, there was a bang and the armor visibly dented. No sword could have done that.


    "Very useful," said Durag. "A few shots like that would kill a man from the impact.


    "I think that guns are going to become the way of the future, at least so far to doing battle with mortals. In fact, I would like for you to take a full set of these weapons back to Harlenor if you don''t mind."


    "I''d prefer to finish my tour and talk with my allies before I accept any gifts," said Relma.


    "Of course," said Durag, nodding with what might have been approved. "A wise choice, for one of your age."


    Relma looked down a passage and had a foreboding feeling from it. "What is over there?"


    "That is the human experiments section, of course," said Durag.


    "Human experiments?" asked Relma.


    "Yes, in order to better understand how to cure the body, one must have subjects to take apart," said Durag.


    Relma felt a twinge of horror. "People, who are still alive?"


    "A necessary sacrifice," said Durag. "You need not fear; every one of them has committed one grievous crime or another. All of them warrant their suffering. Think of this place as a sort of... purgatory in the living world.


    "Follow me."


    This had just gotten very bleak.


    The first thing Durag showed her was a corpse. It was desiccated, thin, and had been mummified and put on display. Relma shuddered as she looked at him and wondered his name.


    It looked like he had been starved to death.


    "This man was a bandit before he came to us," said Durag. "He murdered men, women, and children alongside his band. We observed his atrocities through the eyes of the dead and eventually had a need for one of his age and size. Eventually, he burned an entire field of crops, and the farmer and his family starved to death. He gained nothing by the action, it was done out of spite.


    "Our experiment was fairly simple.


    "We wanted to see the minimum diet that a human of his size and weight could survive on. To this end, we put him on a steadily decreasing diet of various kinds and observed his body''s effects. We also provided him with different levels of movement. They ranged from total immobility to free reign."


    "What happened to him?" asked Relma, feeling sick.


    "When we had exhausted all other experiments, we locked him within this cell. From there, we observed him deteriorate without food," said Durag. "Eventually, he died."


    Relma could not contain herself any longer. "That''s horrible! How could you do something like that?!"


    "The knowledge is valuable. And it is no more than he deserves," said Durag. And he walked on, bringing her to another corpse, this one female. "This woman had a similar story, she was a member of the same gang. However, we observed that she gaze a crust of bread to a beggar alongside the occasional charity. As such, we provided her with food when she was on the brink of starvation.


    "From this, we learned that when one is near death from lack of food, to suddenly be given a large meal is to die. A perplexing result that you would not expect, but it was helpful. Now, when providing food aid to those who are starving, we know to use easily digestible."


    "Durag, this is..." Relma looked for the words. "This is sick. Even if they are doing awful things, performing this kind of atrocity on them..." How could she say it without offending him.


    "I prefer to think of it as a form of redemption," said Durag. "These people willingly chose to murder and steal, and many other, less savory crimes. All of them did them many times. And in so doing, they have damned many innocent people to the same fate. We make it very clear why they suffer from them.


    "Now, they experience the effects of their actions and provide a service to life.


    "I expect they shall learn from their errors in their next life.


    "Of course, we''ve found certain dead ends in our research, people who are never guilty."


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma, not wanting to know, but needing to.


    "Infants, of course," said Durag. "Children are, by nature, innocent and cannot be held responsible for their actions. It would not be possible to pass judgment. And I prefer not to hurt innocents if it can be avoided.


    "Fortunately, I''ve come up with a possible means to dodge the issue."


    This was ominous; Relma needed to know more. "What do you mean?"


    "I''ve devised a means by which I will be able to track the soul of horrific criminals after they die," said Durag. "Then, once they reincarnate, I may use them for experimentation without fear of-"


    "Don''t do it!" said Relma in sudden horror.


    "Hmm?" said Durag, with the appearance of one who hears this kind of thing often.


    "Listen, what you are doing here... whether it is wrong or right, it will look awful when it comes out," said Relma. Durag was not going to respond to an appeal to his conscience. "And it will come out eventually. If... you want this alliance to work out...


    "You need to focus on more humane experiments.


    "I realize you have good intentions, but not everyone will understand. The Conquista outright wants you dead. And if word spreads of... that kind of thing it could turn my allies against you." Not that what she''d seen already wouldn''t already do that.


    Durag paused and seemed to consider it. "Hmm, well, I suppose we had exhausted the possibilities with this area of expertise.


    "Would you be interested in live vivisection?"


    "You cut people open?" asked Relma.


    "Don''t be absurd, that would be inhumane," said Durag. "We reanimate the corpses after poisoning them to death. The unholy magics simulate blood movement quite well, so long as the experiment is done fast. ''Live'' is a somewhat outdated term.


    "One due for changing, I suppose."


    Relma sighed as she realized she''d have to learn more. You could not understand something if you didn''t look at unpleasant truths. "...I''m really starting to hate playing peacemaker."


    "I''m certain we all feel that way sometimes," said Durag.


    Obviously, he missed the point.


    If hell existed in the real world, it was ruled by Durag.


    Relma saw horrors she''d never heard of before. Innumerable experiments, all with one practical purpose in mind. None were live, fortunately. If Relma had found them being actively tortured, she''d have to try and rescue them. That could ruin all her plans. But Durag always had some way in which the information gathered helped him. All of the victims had been villains of their own kind, and the worse the torment put to them, the worse they were.


    Durag had chronicled their lives. From the experiments to their reactions and all that came from it. All were bound up in leather books meticulously. And his voice remained level and calm, and Relma tried not to burst into tears. What made it all the worse was the fact that Durag seemed to notice and suggest they retire.


    Relma, however, refused to.


    "I am certain we can return to this another day if you so wish," said Durag.


    Relma wished she could. But even if she did not know about what happened, it would still be happening. And to know the atrocities that happened here was necessary.


    "I need to see the rest," said Relma. "Ignoring what happened here would be worse than knowing it."


    "Your resolve to gain knowledge is admirable," said Durag.


    Here was a devil of a different kind.


    But not a devil of sin, but of simple utility. If Durag ruled hell, it would be a place of coldblooded torture, not done for malice, but for knowledge. Perhaps some useful knowledge had been gained yet...


    Was it right that good should come out of this?


    Relma did not know. Nor did she know if she should destroy Durag. But she was looking forward to when Wrynncurth finally arrived.


    She had to get out of here.

 Chapter 378 - Sixteen: Plots within Plots

    Relma awoke that morning with a profound feeling of dread.


    Her days in the domain of Durag had been long and informative. Though they focused on more humane experiments, the dread did not leave her. Even if Relma was looking at experiments conducted humanely, she knew they were there. Relma tried to see more of them but found it began to affect her mood and had to pace herself.


    And so she dressed without the simple, but the pleasant room she''d been given. She combed her hair and washed as best she could as well, having to undress again to do it. The room had furniture made of metal instead of wood, but it was all well made and comfortable. Brushing her hair, Relma looked at herself in the mirror. "Another day.


    "Another tour. You have to stay with it, Relma. You need to understand what is happening here if you want to win. And if you don''t win, everything will get worse.


    "Unless...


    "Is there something else I could do?"


    Relma had spent her time researching as well, Durag had very extensive records. She soon began to put together the beginnings of a plan. And as she met Durag for breakfast, she decided to put it into action.


    "Ah, Relma," said Durag, coming in as she ate. "How are you enjoying breakfast?"


    "Very much," said Relma, enthusiastic at the idea of not seeing any horrors. Physical pain was nothing to knowing it was happening to other people. "This food is excellent."


    "I thought you might want to know," said Durag. "Your ally, Pantera, is under attack by the Sun Soul Empire. Their warriors have been massing to press into her jungles. It might be wise to take some action against it.


    "If you wish to communicate with another, I would be happy to supply you with the means."


    That was...


    An odd coincidence. But it did fit perfectly with what she had planned, and Relma came up with the idea at once. Nodding, she finished her breakfast. "I will thank you."


    Making her way to the communications room, Relma entered it.


    Mentally preparing herself for what was to come, Relma put her hand into the box. The tickles began, followed by pain as she focused. But Relma had gotten better at controlling it now and was able to stave it off.


    "Pantera..." called Relma.


    Then she felt Pantera''s presence as a ghostly figure appeared before her. The catwoman was lounging upon a tree branch and holding a bloodied human skull almost. "Relma, you are using Durag''s means of communication? Brave of you, isn''t it?"


    "Yes, I know," said Relma, cutting to the chase. "Durag tells me that you are under attack. Is that true?"


    "Not yet, but they''ve been gathering troops for a full invasion," said Pantera. "I think I may have some problems. I may even lose this body, and so many of my dear pets if things go on.


    "Though I''ll devour many of them..." She sounded... well, happy about the thought.


    "What if I could help you?" asked Relma.


    Pantera crushed the skull between her upheld paws and tossed the fragments away. Everyone in this land was a bloodthirsty lunatic, weren''t they? Relma supposed she''d just have to manage.


    "How do you intend to do that, Relma?" asked Pantera, purring as she leaned back.


    "I have a plan that might be able to save your holdings in that region," said Relma. "And through it, bring peace as a whole. How would you feel about swearing fealty to Queen Vanessa?"


    "Hmm?" asked Pantera. "Why would I want to give up my freedom?"


    "Because it will give Queen Vanessa a pretense to threaten an invasion. It will also give you greater security," said Relma. "Once you swear loyalty to her, if the Conquista or Sun Soul Empire or anyone else attacks, she can come to your aid. She will see it as an opportunity to expand her power, I hope."


    "Yes, that is part of the problem," said Pantera ruefully, licking bloodstained fur. "Queen Vanessa will want to put a Dragon Lord over my domains."


    "Then ask that you be made a Lord instead, with all the rights and privileges of a Dragon Lord," said Relma.


    "I am not a dragon, though," mused Pantera.


    "What does it matter if both of you benefit from the arrangement?" asked Relma.


    Pantera nodded. "Perhaps, but then how will that help you? I doubt very much you are doing this out of the goodness of your heart."


    "Because the war will never happen," said Relma, deciding to be honest. "I just need Vanessa to have enough power to spark others to be willing to make an alliance against her. If Vanessa puts pressure on the Sun Soul Empire to halt, then it will create a temporary stalemate.


    "I can use that to create real peace."


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    "How?" asked Pantera.


    "I have several different leads, but I''ll just have to rely on my greater self for some of it. Have some faith," said Relma, who did not want to explain her plan. Pantera might reveal it.


    "No," said Pantera. "Faith is not something I enjoy. It ruins the taste of my favorite meals.


    "But, I suppose I don''t have much more in the way of options. What of Ajax?"


    "Where is he now?" asked Relma, wondering why she brought it up.


    "Oh, we''ve been talking over sending the wolves to fight the Sun Soul Empire," said Pantera. "Though not this body."


    "I''ll talk to him," said Relma, before feeling the pain become nearly unbearable. She drew the hand out on reflex. "Ah!"


    Her hand was red. After a moment, Relma put the hand back in. Ajax appeared before her soon, stooping over some tracks. "Relma, is that you?" he asked.


    "Ajax," said Relma. "I don''t have very long to talk.


    "I need you to go to King Tyus. Tell him that the Dragon Empire is on the verge of starting an invasion of the region to the south. Tell him that if he plays his cards right, he will be able to mediate an end to the dispute. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "To his own benefit."


    "What makes you think he won''t just invade?" asked Ajax. "And how do you know this?"


    "I think I''m setting it up," said Relma. "But Tyus is smart and cautious enough to not want to invade anywhere if he can get power another way. If this pans out, we''ll be able to have lasting peace on the southern border of Escor.


    "If that happens, he''ll be able to focus on other concerns.


    "I also need to carry messages between King Tyus and King Gormath and recommend and alliance. I want the Harlenorian Kingdoms to reestablish ties. And that has to happen no matter what happens in the coming days."


    "Fine, fine," said Ajax. "Are you alright? Your voice is pained."


    "I know," said Relma. "It''ll stop when I cut the message. Any questions?"


    "No," said Ajax. "Though whatever your plan is, it''s very complicated."


    Relma cut the channel. As she did, Relma reflected that the plan she had in motion was not really one plan. It was more like a series of independent gambits. If successful, each one played into an overall strategy. But none of them relied on the completion of the others to succeed.


    And then, suddenly, the box began to gleam. Putting her hand back in, Relma saw Pantera appear before her. "Tell me something, Relma... Relma, how do you think King Tyus would react if I became his daughter?"


    Relma got a shudder as she realized what Pantera was asking. Estela was a very real risk now. She knew at once that action had to be taken. "He''d murder you in cold blood. And we''d become very serious enemies.


    "Don''t test me, Pantera. I don''t like bloodshed, but you should beware of the anger of the gentle. Once roused, it does not abate."


    Pantera sighed. "Such a pity," said Pantera. "And she had such fair skin..."


    "We have more important things to worry about," said Relma. "Good day, Queen Pantera."


    "Of course," said the woman.


    Relma cut the channel. She wondered how exactly it was that communication was established. She suspected that it opened connections between spirits. In that case, they might have been two-way.


    She decided not to use this device again unless she had to.


    Turning, she walked out the door and found Durag waiting. Relma had been expecting him to be eavesdropping, of course. He''d be a fool not to. But his status as a party who was wholly alienated from all involved meant he might not alert his allies at once. Even if he did, Relma could probably make this work.


    "...Well, how do you plan to make this work, Relma? King Tyus alone will not be enough to threaten Vanessa into submission," said Durag. "The Dragons will fight to the bitter end rather than submit to a mortal."


    "Which is why we need an immortal to head the operation," said Relma. "A means to replace Vanessa if she chooses to continue threatening other factions."


    "On your suggestion," mused Durag.


    "It is a good way to avoid war in the short-term and helps my plans in the long term," said Relma. "That will benefit everyone.


    "If this works, war will be averted."


    "For how long, I wonder?" asked Durag.


    Relma calculated how long the peace would last based on past experience. From her reading of history and what she''d seen, Erian was a neverending war. Truces were lucky to last a decade. Even then, they only did so because of wars going on near other borders. "A few months, probably.


    "We''ll have a lot of problems soon after signing the treaty, and we''ll have to work to fix those. But if we do a good enough job of working things out, the peace might last a few years. Then it''ll get easier, since peace is the norm, and we''ll just have to smooth out the rough patches."


    "Until war breaks out again," mused Durag. "No peace can be maintained forever."


    "Of course, it won''t last forever," said Relma. "But if I can save lives now, make things a little better now in whatever way I can, it could inspire others.


    "Heroism isn''t about fixing all the problems in the world. It''s about fixing the problems of today."


    "By putting Vanessa into a position where you can threaten to have her replaced?" asked Durag.


    Relma sighed. "Vanessa is a vicious tyrant, Durag.


    "She''s allowed her nation to grow complacent in its brutality. At this rate, it''ll collapse in a hundred years anyway. Either the people she rules will overthrow her, or she won''t have a people left to rule. I''m just forcing them out of complacency by giving her some competition.


    "It''s for their own good, really."


    "You mean Bryag?" asked Durag.


    Relma sighed. "Why not?


    "He''s the closest thing to a god people have in this place. I know they nominally worship Vrengar, but I''ve yet to see anyone pray to him. Bryag is popular; he hasn''t committed very many atrocities. And he performs real service for the people. Moreover, the dragons are terrified of him, even if they would never admit it."


    "What makes you so sure?" asked Durag.


    "Evren spoke at length about how Bryag is of no threat," said Relma. "If he really believed Bryag was no threat, he''d have dismissed him as such out of hand. Instead, he''s gone out of his way to set up countermeasures. He made an alliance of Red Dragons to kill Bryag if he turns against them.


    "All I need to do is give Bryag genuine backing. Enough to tip things in his favor."


    "And what if Bryag refuses to cooperate?" asked Durag.


    "Well, then I''ll have to improvise," said Relma. "I may be able to sway Vanessa with the people who have already signed, using Pantera''s allegiance as a gift of sorts. The Conquista has a tenuous alliance at best, and could be brought to side with King Tyus."


    Durag paused. "If that''s the case, why would you threaten them at all?"


    Relma shrugged. "Because the Red Dragons are terrible people. And I think having them be afraid of their victims might curb their excesses.


    "Fear can motivate where conscience fails."


    Durag roared with laughter, and it was the most terrifying thing Relma had ever heard.

 Chapter 379 - Seventeen: Meetings

    Adrian Wrynncurth arrived a week later.


    Relma stood atop a plateau looking out over a hilltop to where the Black Dragon was swooping toward them. She could see Estela upon him, and also Jomas on what appeared to be another golem.


    Raising a hand in relief, Relma waved. "Wrynncurth! Wrynncurth over here!"


    Wrynncurth landed before them. "Relma, jolly nice to see you, old girl."


    "Relma, are you alright? Did they hurt you?" asked Estela, dismounting quickly.


    Relma thought she ought to ask Estela''s same thing, but she didn''t have cat ears or paws, so that was a good sign. "No, but I think I''ve been able to enlist Durag as an ally."


    "What?" asked Estela. "How, I mean-


    "Explain now."


    "It''s a bit complicated, but I think that we can use Durag to set up a dialogue between the factions," said Relma. "We can play them against one another to pressure them into peace."


    "What about the Dragonfire Shield?" asked Estela.


    "The what?" asked Relma.


    "The Dragonfire Shield," said Estela. "The thing we came all the way out here to steal! The artifact you wanted to get for Vanessa!"


    "Oh, right, that," said Relma.


    "Yes, don''t tell me you forgot!" said Estela.


    Relma thought about the Dragonfire Shield and what it represented. Finally, she shrugged. "Eh, Vanessa was probably just trying to get us out of the way anyway. Maybe we could hand it over as an act of goodwill if we get it.


    "We don''t need it."


    "What do you mean you don''t need it?" asked Estela. "Vanessa won''t even consider our requests without getting it. And the Conquista wants you to kill Durag to get it.


    "How is allying with Durag a supplement?"


    "Vanessa only gave us that quest because she thought it would be impossible," said Relma with a shrug. "Even if we completed it, she''d probably just lead us on a wild goose chase. I''ve actually got a much better idea to deal with the problem while bringing pressure on her.


    "Did Ajax contact with you?"


    "He said you sent him with a message," said Estela. "I sent a message to Father with it, and also got Gormath to send one to him as well. I vouched for the Conquista and also gave Father a report on their weaponry.


    "I think that horses have real possibilities in the Calishan Wars."


    "Well, that''s a long way off," said Relma. "Do you think King Tyus will be willing to not invade?"


    "Probably, yes," said Estela. "Father isn''t the kind to make stupid risks. Still, he wants revenge for Otto."


    "Right, well, in any case, I have a plan to fix that," said Relma. "Wrynncurth, I want to get a meeting with Prince Bryag of the Dragon Empire." Then Relma paused and looked to the entrance. "But first, Wrynncurth, could you come inside? Durag has been very interested in meeting with you for a great many centuries."


    "Oh, is he?" asked Wrynncurth.


    "Relma, stop, what is going on here?" asked Estela.


    "I''m trying to set up a peaceful solution to these problems," said Relma. "Wrynncurth, Durag has some very... well, questionable experiments. I was hoping you could look at them and, perhaps, convince him to change them."


    "Well, these experiments seem interesting," said Wrynncurth. "Very well, no harm in having a chat on the subject."


    "Peaceful solution..." said Estela, looking around. "We''re fighting a legion of undead commanded by a lich of unfathomable evil. And he''s supported by a warrior culture who burns the souls of those they capture on eternal flame! I don''t want a peaceful solution!"


    "We should just smash them all," said Jomas, speaking for the first time.


    "Alright, that might be valid," said Relma, not finding it easy to disagree with anything she said. "But the Dragon Empire isn''t really that much better, and they''re the main threat. If we can get the groups into a dialogue, we might be able to get them to stop doing bad things without violence.


    "And if I''m wrong...


    "We can just make an alliance against whichever faction is the absolute worst." Then Relma turned and walked to the door. "Come on." sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You are a jolly pragmatic negotiator. Especially for one pretending to be innocent," said Wryncurth.


    "Hey, I''m not going to claim success until I''ve succeeded," said Relma. "I just want to see if we can fix all this without violence. But I''m waiting for the moment that all of this goes to hell."


    Relma led her friends through the halls she''d been living in. She was careful to avoid the experimental rooms. Finally, she came to Durag''s throneroom. The lich was sitting upon it, hands clasped together and looking down. His eyes were dull with thought and looked up suddenly as they entered.


    Standing suddenly, he moved down toward them. "Ah, Adrian Wrynncurth, may I say that I have wished to speak with you for virtually my entire life."


    "Durag, I presume?" asked Wrynncurth.


    "Yes, you were a great inspiration to me," said Durag.


    "Well, jolly good to be of service," said Wrynncurth, smiling slightly. "I wish your invitation has been somewhat less aggressive."


    "Yes, well, fortunes of war and all that," said Durag. "Your association with the Dragon Queen meant the Sun Soul Empire was going to move against you. Making a condition of meeting you assured your safety.


    "I''m hoping to move past that."


    "Well, moving past something is all a matter of terrain and how well you want to work at it," mused Wrynncurth. "You''ve got some very remarkable necromantic weavings there."


    "Oh yes, I''ve been working to improve them for some time," said Durag, looking at his arms. "The Hellfire Jewel shard I have has been of some help in this regard."


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    "He has a shard of the Hellfire Jewel?" asked Estela suddenly.


    "It''s not a problem, I assure you," said Durag. "I explained it to Relma some time ago. Diabolus is a dangerous entity, but can be predicted if you understand him. And once you can predict something you can control it.


    "He''s trying to play on my pride at the achievement right now."


    "Why didn''t you tell us this?" asked Jomas.


    "I thought it was obvious," said Relma. "How else could he be opening portals to hell so regularly?"


    "A touch simplistic, wouldn''t you say?" asked Wrynncurth, ignoring the subject. "Solid, but no style."


    "A matter of approach, I fear," said Durag. "My policy has always been to be practical and pragmatic. This body is more tool than art if you will."


    "Yes, well, I prefer my status as an artist," said Wrynncurth, motioning to his golem that came forward. "Perhaps I might offer this specimen to you as a gift. Perhaps we can compare certain techniques."


    "It is much appreciated," said Durag. "Hmm, the weavings in this are deserving of the title art. They are beautiful. Yet how did you form this?"


    "It was made from the mud of a river," said Wrynncurth. "I had to purify the mud first, of course. Once done, I used the souls of a number of the walking dead to animate it. Once done, I place pieces of my hoard into it."


    "Ah, yes," said Durag. "That reminds me. My chief lieutenant, Akar, destroyed two of your golems. I shall restore them, and the pieces of your hoard we found within."


    "Oh, you may keep the bodies," said Wrynncurth. "Study them all you like. The coins, however, are much appreciated."


    Durag nodded, and the two seemed to be getting on well. Finally, he smiled. "Would you care for some refreshments?"


    "Of course," said Wrynncurth. "Estela, Relma, if you''ll excuse us. I''m sure both of us have matters we jolly well ought to discuss in private. Durag old boy, I need to hear a bit about what you know of the various faction. In particular, how Bryag is doing."


    Estela, Jomas, and Relma were led to a room and provided refreshments. As they did, Estela looked across her. "What now?"


    "Now I need to contact Lucius Elcano and try to set up negotiations," said Relma with a sigh.


    "Negotiations about what?" asked Estela. "What is the end goal here?"


    "I have..." Relma stood and paused. "I have a vision, Estela. A vision of a place, I''m not sure where. A place where men from all nations can come and negotiate. All the nations can have a voice in this place.


    "By having an easy way for negotiations to take place, we can prevent future wars. Different nations from thousands of miles away can spread information and culture. We can learn to understand one another, and all grow stronger from it."


    "Right, and how do you intend to set this up?" asked Estela, eyeing her oddly.


    "Well, I''ve already put together a number of powers," said Relma. "If we can bring in the nations here, that may help a lot. And as more nations join this place, others will want to as well. They will want to avoid having a coalition arranged against them."


    "You don''t really think you''ll be able to create peace just like that?" asked Estela. "It''ll collapse under its own weight. And even if you establish this coalition, neighboring lands will do the same. You can''t please everyone."


    "Ruling one country is hard," said Jomas. "How are you going to rule a hundred?"


    "Of course I know that it''ll be difficult," said Relma. "I''m not stupid.


    "But I think this may do some good, and maybe it could be the start of something better. I need you to come with me to make a report to discuss matters with King Tyus and the others.


    "Just uh... the communications will hurt a lot."


    "I''m ready for anything," said Estela.


    Relma then looked over to where Jomas was sitting, silently mulling something over. She realized she''d nearly gotten him in all this. "Jomas, how are you?"


    "...I did not mean for you to be kidnapped," said Jomas finally.


    "Don''t worry about it," said Relma. "Jomas, I''m going to need you with us as well for this; they need to know we''re all safe. Now come on, I''ll lead you to the communication room."


    Leading Estela and Jomas to the box, Relma explained the function. Estela listened to it, and Relma felt bad about only having this option. Yet she also felt relieved she wouldn''t be doing the communications.


    "Now, remember, this will hurt when you try to make contact," said Estela. "So, we need to work quickly."


    Estela drove her hand into it and hissed in pain. "Ow!"


    "Are you alright? I can speak for you if you-" began Relma.


    "I am fine, it took me by surprise," said Estela.


    And then King Tyus appeared before them. He was sitting in a seat, looking up in surprise. For a moment, he seemed to calculate. "You''re communication is done through unexpected means, Estela."


    "I apologize for taking so long, Father," said Estela. "The situation here is far more complex than we anticipated.


    "The Dragon Empire is not so much a single Kingdom as a loose coalition of fiefs, ruled by dragons. It seems they support one another when they come under threat and jockey for position."


    "Yes, this much was brought to me," said Tyus. "Do you believe an invasion is practical?"


    "I believe I sent Ajax with a report on the subject," said Estela.


    "You did; however, I wish to confirm your viewpoint to us," said Tyus. "I do not trust his word on its own."


    "Ajax has proven himself to me, Father," said Estela.


    "Perhaps, but he has not proven himself to me. Now explain," said Tyus.


    "Relma has made contact with several different factions," said Estela. "I mean those described in the letter I wrote. We believe..." Estela hissed.


    "Are you well?" asked Tyus.


    "The spell I am using causes pain to use," said Estela. "We believe that it may be possible to force the Dragon Empire to cease its attacks without a war. Doing so will also allow Harlenor to gain access to something we''ve never had before.


    "Horses."


    "Horses?" asked Tyus. "Then, Gormath''s letter was true."


    "Yes, the Conquista of Anoa ride them and have other weapons," said Estela. "If they are brought to Harlenor, and we can learn to breed and ride them...


    "Our armies could be unstoppable. No one would be able to stand against us."


    Tyus nodded, pleased. "I see.


    "And you are certain we cannot gain them with a war?"


    "Yes, if we start a war, the Dragon Empire will stop it," said Estela. "They''ve prevented the Conquista from bringing them to Harlenor for years.


    "Escor and Harlenor stand to benefit a great deal."


    "A worthy consideration," said Tyus. "Still, it may not be an option. The satyrs the Heir of Kings brought to us are getting impatient. They desire to die in battle, and we are obligated to provide them with one. Even now, several of them are trying to convince others to launch raids.


    "If I tell them that the war is off, we will have a different variety of war. One upon Escor''s own territory." Relma realized she''d forgotten about Shren and his people. That had been a mistake.


    "Have you spoken to Lucius about recalling them?" asked Estela.


    "The man is very insistent that the ritual is irreversible," said Tyus. "Either he is unable, or unwilling to reverse it."


    "...We could unleash them on the Sun Soul Empire," said Estela.


    "What do you mean?" asked Relma.


    "They are the odd man out here, Relma," said Estela. "Their alliance with Durag is one of a mutual enemy. They have no real friendship with any other faction, and they are in a weak position.


    "If we did launch the satyrs against them, they''d be in no position to cause problems."


    "And how would you get them across the Dragon Empire''s territory, unharmed?" asked Tyus flatly.


    "...We''re in the Road of Ancient Stone right now, aren''t we?" asked Estela. "Or a similar dimension. Perhaps, with a proper ritual, we could open a way."


    "I am no sorcerer, daughter," said Tyus. "However, I know enough about magic to know such a policy would be difficult.


    "You''d need a massive amount of power to create a pathway of that distance.


    "There is a reason the Road of Ancient Stone is not used for transporting armies."


    Relma knew she had to turn the conversation away from this subject and scanned over her options. Then Relma remembered something said in passing.


    Something she could use to fix this. "...What about the Hellfire Jewel?"


    "What do you mean?" asked Tyus.


    "Durag has a fragment of the hellfire jewel," said Relma. "With it, he should be able to break holes in dimensions. Couldn''t we use it to invade hell?"


    "...The idea may be insane enough to serve our purposes," mused Tyus.


    Relma had the solution; she just had to find it. And also avoid a full-scale war.

 Chapter 380 - Eighteen: Bryag

    Durag met Relma along within his office as he had several times before. It was a barren place, with a simple window looking out over the mountains. There were many books on the walls, meticulously organized and it did not look like anyone had read them. He was standing there, looking out that way.


    "Relma, I''m told you have a plan for invading hell?" said Durag, voice amused.


    "Not a plan so much as a concept," said Relma. "Did your meeting with Wrynncurth go well?" She tried to keep the memory of Durag''s horrors from her mind, it affected nothing.


    "Yes," said Durag. "Very.


    "But please, provide me with the details of your plan."


    "Our association with Lucius has caused us to have on our hands a large group of satyrs who want to die in battle," said Relma. "We''re concerned we''ll have to fight them and are looking for an opportunity to give them someone to fight."


    "And why do you want to use the Hellfire Jewel?" asked Durag.


    "Well, I was hoping that we might be able to open a portal through the Road of Ancient Stone to the pass of Dragon Bones," said Relma. "If we could do that, we could get them here.


    "Or, somewhere else."


    "Thus invading hell?" asked Durag.


    "Yes," said Relma, feeling a bit self-conscious. But if you were going to invade somewhere, hell seemed a good choice.


    "I shouldn''t try to invade hell directly," said Durag. "Doing so is a very... personal sort of attack. Traditional means of assault are not efficient for fighting demons. A single man of sufficient will can do immense damage to demons, while an army of fools might not even make a dent.


    "Hell is a purely spiritual plane, after all. What you see there, the landscape, is more an interpretation of the mortal psyche."


    "Ah, I see," said Relma. "Well, King Tyus has been pushing to launch an invasion of the Sun Soul Empire and I''m trying to talk him out of it."


    "That is out of the question," said Durag flatly. "I do have an arrangement with them, after all. And if I were to cut them loose, my own position would be that much weaker."


    "Then we have a problem," said Relma. "Shren and his kind will eventually attack someone. The only alternative is murdering them."


    "Jolly bad situation this," said Wrynncurth, emerging from the shadows. "Still, if we can''t afford to invade any one of these nations, why not help one side against the rebels?"


    "What rebels?" asked Durag. "There is no rebellion underway?"


    "Then let''s find one," said Wrynncurth. "I have in mind an idea that has been turning in my head for some time.


    "However, we will have to meet with Bryag first."


    "Bryag?" asked Durag. "Is that wise?"


    "Of course," said Wrynncurth. "I was like an uncle to him. And he''s been badly mistreated by a whole number of the other dragon. I think I''ve found a means by which we can justify killing the whole lot of his enemies with perfect legality.


    "Now we just need the reason."


    Durag looked to Relma. "I suggest you explain your own plan to him, Relma."


    The plan went over... well Relma didn''t know. Wrynncurth kept his same cheerful expression, though she guessed he was calculating things. He certainly seemed to be willing to factor it into his plans, though.


    "Well then," said Wryncurth. "Let''s jolly well head out at once and find him."


    "Right," said Relma, eager to go. "Durag, thank you for for hospirality. However, I do not... well, this place does not suit me. No offense."


    "None taken, this is the realm of the dead, after all," said Durag. "In regards to your suggestion for creating a route through the Road of Ancient Stone, I have created many such places. And, should it suit our tactics, I may well create another.


    "For now, however, I believe I can open a way for you to reach Bryag very quickly.


    "Even so, I should be careful. He is... aggressive."


    So it was that the group was arrayed once more, except Ajax of course. Together they stood in the throneroom of Durag, who was kneeling. The Hellfire Jewel within him began to flare with an unpleasant light. Relma tried to keep her eyes on it, while Estela looked away. Jomas gazed down at the floor.


    Whispers rose throughout the throneroom, and they were agonizing. Relma felt pain in those voices, and feral hatred. And as the whispers continue a ring of flame appeared in midair. And from the edges of that flame appeared a swirling vortex of blood, before settling into what might have been a hall.


    Yet it was a hall paved with bones and of bloodied flesh. The outline of vaguely humanoid figures could be seen writhing on it. Yet it was impossible to tell where they began and the floor ended.


    "What is that?" asked Estela.


    "Oh, that is the portal my dead walk through," said Durag, motioning. "I draw the souls from their nightmarish agony and offer them service instead. Like so." Out of the flesh mass, decayed and horrifying bodies pulled themselves out and staggered through. "This portal should lead to near Bryag immediately and safely.


    "I should be careful moving through here, it is a realm of envy. You may find your minds... tested."


    "Have you gone through it?" asked Estela.


    "Of course," said Durag. "I have long since become immune, in fact."


    "So, who will go?"


    Relma paused only for a moment, before walking forward. "I have to, this is my task."


    "And I jolly well need to as well," said Wrynncurth as the new undead moved into the hall. "Bryag is in need of some very good advice, and I seem to be the one to do it."


    "Well, I''m certainly not letting Relma go in there alone," said Estela.


    "I''ll go," said Jomas.


    "Glad to have you with us, Jomas," said Relma. "Come on."


    And so they walked forward.


    "Just keep walking and don''t stop for anything," said Durag as Relma passed him. "Oh, and don''t stare too deeply into the abyss."


    Even as he said it, Relma passed through the threshold.


    And it was then that she realized she was the leader of this group. Even as she set foot within the tunnel of hell, however, it seemed to shifter around them. Relma found herself walking along the path of bones in a twisting path. Estela, Jomas and Wrynncurth walked behind her and she kept a hand on Lightning Trail.


    Soon, however, the stability of the flesh passages began to yield away. The walls became translucent and within them, Relma saw what might have been people. Yet though they could be recognized as humanoid, they could not be recognized as anything else. They had no discernable gender or form, no clothes to identify class or hair. Their eyes were the pitchest black.


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    And they seemed to be fighting.


    They were tearing at one another, pulling eachother down, or away from the walls. Pale hands grasped at them, trying to rip one another away. Some were even gnawing on others like feral animals. And the lower Relma got, the more animalistic and feral they became, until soon they were less than animalistic.


    No animal had ever been so pitiable and vicious.


    And Relma realized as she walked that the creatures within the walls were descending with her. They were pulling one another down ever further in a mad scramble to get over the others. Even if one managed to pull themselves past the others, the mass as a whole was always descending.


    "What..." said Relma. "What are they fighting over? It''s like they''re gnawing at one another."


    "Don''t look at it, Relma, there''s nothing we can do," said Estela.


    The further they went, the more ragged and wounded the creatures were and all the while the realm darkened. Soon, the creatures had no eyes, just torn sockets, and their flesh was wounded and rended by hands and teeth. Relma no longer felt conflicted about Durag drawing these creatures up to serve him. The fate of walking the world as the dead must have been infinitely preferable to this place.


    "Why did you trust Durag with this?" asked Estela suddenly.


    "He stands to benefit by our success," said Relma. "And he seems to to not be wholly evil at heart. I''ll vouch for him."


    "Oh yes and you''re so worthy of vouching!" snarled Estela in sudden. "What do you know about ruling or negotiations! I was trained in all this, while you just sort of lucked into it all!


    "Why should you lead and determine policy!"


    Relma stepped back in shock, never having seen her like this. There seemed a manic look in her eye and her hand was on her sword. "Estela I-"


    "Shut up, why should you rule Harlenor Reunited!" said Estela, drawing her sword. "It''s not your birthright save by luck! Estal should-"


    Jomas grabbed Estela''s hand. "Why are you drawing your sword, Estela?"


    Estela shuddered and sheathed it quickly before moving it. "...Relma, forgive me.


    "I...


    "I don''t know what came over me. This place is..."


    "No time old, girl," said Wrynncurth. "We need to keep moving."


    On they walked as the passage became ever darker. Soon Relma had to get by with the light of her sword. Yet she found she could not leave her conversation with Estela like this. "You''re right, though, Estela. My birthright is pure luck, that''s why I''m doing this. I want to prove myself worthy of my heritage."


    Estela fell silent for a long moment. "Well, I hope you do.


    "At the rate we''re going we''re liable to all end up dead if you don''t."


    Then they passed through utter darkness and came into sunlit lands beyond.


    The sunlight, as it turned out, was the only thing bright about the surroundings. Further upriver, near the coast, Relma had seen occassional plants on the barren hills. Yet here the hills were all black as soot. Not a sound could be heard, no birds chirping or sound of wind could be perceived.


    And there were bodies. Thousands, no, tens of thousands of charred corpses. They were piled in a great trail, leading along the path toward an equally charred bridge. And at the edge of the bridge was a small mountain, covered in ashes. Not a tree or anything could be seen.


    "Look at these," said Estela. "Charred bodies. What could have burned the features off them?"


    "Fire," said Jomas.


    "Even dragonfire..." Estela. "This level of charring is something I''ve never seen. Remember the bodies in the pass of Dragon Bones? They still had well... there was blood and you could recognize them a bit."


    "Bryag certainly could. He always had the best firebrath," said Wrynncurth. "I''m surprise the bridge survived as much. "Still, perhaps there is a village around here we could see. The Sun Soul Empire is a little way to the south.


    "Still, we''ve business to conduct." And he made his way across the bridge over the bodies. As he stepped on them, they broke into ashes. Yet there were even more of them below. And as they walked, Relma felt both awed and sick.


    Looking at the river, she saw that the entire shore on her side was covered with bodies, writhing. But not one had made it to the other side and the lands beyond she saw were green and beautiful. All save the ash-strewn mountain.


    "Did all these die recently?" asked Estela.


    "No, I don''t think so," said Wrynncurth, motioning to one. "Many of these are eroding with the wind. See, the skull has been worn away, that would have taken some time.


    "Bryag must have caked the ashes onto the flagstones over years of breathing flame."


    Then Wrynncurth moved toward the ash-strewn mountain and tapped the rock. There was a chink like metal and an eye at large as Relma was tall opened before them. "Ah, there''s the fellow of the hour.


    "Bryag! Bryag old chap, great to see you at last!"


    "Uncle Wrynncurth?" asked Bryag and his voice shook the bridge. "It''s been years."


    "Yes it has," said Wrynncurth. "I thought I might drop in for a visit and see how you are. With me is Estela Vortegex, a Princess of Escor, her fiancee Jomas Endorean, and her squire, Relma Artorious. How have you been?"


    Bryag shifted, gradually propping himself up to sit on his haunches. His head rose so high that the shadow it cast covered the bridge. Jomas took several, intimidated steps back.


    "...Not well," said Bryag morosely. "My hoard is gone. I wanted to be a lender, like you. I loaned my hoard for interest, but there were never any returns."


    "Why not?" asked Wrynncurth, not intimidated.


    "They defaulted," said Bryag.


    "Defaulted?" asked Estela. "What did they spend it on?"


    Bryag seemed to think about it for a moment. "...Improvement."


    "What improvements?" asked Wrynncurth.


    "...I don''t know," said Bryag after a moment. "They didn''t say."


    "But shouldn''t you know?" asked Estela. "Don''t you have records?"


    "Yes, I do," said Bryag, moving his bulk to reveal an immense number of stolen tablets. Relma wondered how it did not crush them. All of them had large amounts of writing on them and Wrynncurth looked at them. "I have... I had them all made here. But they''ve all defaulted, so it doesn''t matter. They can''t pay it back."


    "Hold on, the hoard I saw in Lord Evren''s lair was massive," said Relma. "How is it possible that he couldn''t pay off his debt?"


    "He''s a cheat," said Jomas.


    Bryag shook his head. "Not enough money.


    "Interest."


    "Interest, what do you mean interest?" asked Estela.


    "A Sornian concept. When I make a loan, they pay it back with a little extra," said Wrynncurth. "Usually a small percentage return that grows with the time it takes for the debt to be repaid.


    "What percentage did you have on these, Bryag?"


    Bryag passed one of the stone tablets to Wrynncurth. "Twenty percent."


    Wrynncurth went dead still. "Twenty percent interest?! Bryag, how did you ever expect to make a loan with those kinds of terms?!"


    "It was supposed to be a starting position," said Bryag. "But they all took it,"


    "Let me see the contracts," said Wrynncurth, reading through one of them. Then, when finished, he moved on to another. Each time, Relma noticed there was a beautiful red scale engraved on the tablet.


    "...Well, these are all completely legal," said Wrynncurth after a moment. "At least from what I can determine here. And judging from the date, the Red Dragons owe twenty percent interest to Bryag.


    "Bryag old chap, this isn''t what you could call a reasonable contract."


    "You''re supposed to make money," said Bryag, not comprehending.


    "Wait, where is the signature?" asked Estela, looking over one of the contracts.


    Bryag reached down and pointed at the contract. However, his claw was so huge that Estela almost fell over, reaching for her sword. Jomas, however, caught her.


    "There, see, a scale engraved into the stone," said Bryag.


    Wrynncurth nodded. "Well, if all this is true, then the Red Dragons who took this deal all, individually, owe my nephew a lot of money. A lot.


    "In fact, I''m not sure there is enough silver, gold and copper in the world to pay off one of them. Twenty percent interest, combined with hundreds of years worth of failure to pay off the debt and..."


    "Why would anyone be stupid enough to make that kind of contract?" asked Relma.


    "Because they never intended to honor it," said Estela. "They just wanted to rob Bryag blind with a tacit show of legality. When you get a deal that is too good to be true, it is too good to be true.


    "Nobody offers you this kind of chance if they really mean to give it to you."


    "Vanessa said it was a good idea," said Bryag. "I talked with her."


    "What?" said Wrynncurth, looking up. "Why would she-


    "Bryag, you don''t have a hoard anymore. You''ve been robbed blind, why hasn''t she done anything about this?"


    "Says the debt helps her control them," said Bryag.


    "Of course," said Wrynncurth, sound suddenly angry. His voice was a low snarl. "You being penniless discredits your status as an alternative. And keeping you in check lets her hold this over the Lords."


    "They probably didn''t think that Bryag would ever be able to force the issue," said Relma.


    "I don''t want to force it," said Bryag.


    "Why not?" asked Wrynncurth, looking up sharply.


    "Money is worthless," said Bryag with a shrug.


    "No it''s not," said Wrynncurth.


    "Gold not good for making anything," said Bryag. "Heavy, weak, useless.


    "Only valuable because people say it''s valuable. The real value is people."


    "Well, yes, but surely you don''t want to be cheated like this do you?" asked Estela.


    "I don''t care," said Bryag. "I''m helping Vanessa."


    "But you don''t have a hoard!" said Wrynncurth. "You''re spending your time burning undead to keep their lands safe while they laugh at you? Surely you must want to get what you are owed."


    "I''d much rather go back to sleep," said Bryag with a shrug, before lying down.


    "But Evren is winning!" said Wrynncurth.


    "No he''s not," said Bryag, voice suddenly holding anger in it. "Evren is a smallminded, weak, miser. He sits on his hoard, watching worthless bits of metal pile up and congratulates himself. But his spirit is like the metal he treasures and he cannot be happy.


    "His ''triumph'' is nothing. And he gnaws on the ends of it to distract from his own misery.


    "I can''t imagine any worse fate than to leave him as he is. I could crush his skull, but that would hurt the Dragon Empire. So I let him decay all the more."


    This wasn''t working at all. They were appealing to Bryag''s desire for vengeance, power and money, but he clearly didn''t have any.


    "But what about the people?" asked Jomas.


    "People?" asked Bryag.


    "Dragons like Lord Evren, they''re abusing their power," said Jomas. "They''ve been sacrificing more and more people."


    "Jomas is right," said Relma, surprised. "The people of this land look up to you, want to become like you, a dragon in your image. Evren is just devouring them in larger numbers.


    "The land is suffering."


    Wrynncurth nodded. "The girl is right, Bryag, Evren might be creating his own misery or he might not. But what we can''t deny is the fact that he is causing immense problems for the people he rules. And making everyone nearly as miserable as he is.


    "With these outstanding debts, you are in a perfect position to force him and those like him to change. This is a real opportunity."


    "...And what do you want me to do, Uncle Wrynncurth?" asked Bryag.


    "We should go to the Temple of Vrengar, that is still operating, isn''t it?" asked Wrynncurth.


    "Yes, Vanessa is based there," said Bryag. "She moved there after Durag seized the capital."


    "Right, well, we''ll go there and meet with your sister," said Wrynncurth. "Once there, we can find a way that you and she can use this to consolidate both your holdings."


    Bryag sat up and looked around. "...Very well then. I was a bit bored.


    "But I can''t leave the river for long."


    "Well, as it turns out, I may be able to help you there," said Wrynncurth.


    At that moment, the portal opened and the satyrs poured forth from it. They came marching in numbers and with them was a core of Harlenorian warriors.


    "Blood shall flow in rivers! The rotting dead shall feel the wrath of our scimitars! The war, my brethren! All shall die!" cried Shren.


    "Should I kill them?" asked Bryag.


    "No, Bryag, old chap," said Wrynncurth. "They''ll be taking your place on the bridge and ensuring that no one crosses it. It should give us time to act." Durag had already been making plans to send a new army of the dead.


    "It''s nice to see you, Shren," said Relma, moving to the leader of the satyrs.


    "Ah, Queen Relma," said Shren. "We have been told that there are unending tides of undead who come from the bowels of the earth to attack this place! We shall die well against them!"


    "Yes, well, they''re actually the tortured souls of the damned given a mockery of life after being torn from hell," said Relma. "So, you''ll probably be doing them a favor.


    "Just be sure not to leave the bridge unguarded. If any get over this region, it will fail Lucius."


    At that moment, a blonde man in polished armor moved forward, flanked by guards. Estela met him. "Princess Estela," he said.


    "Varsus, what are you doing here?" asked Estela.


    "Providing a core for the army," said Varsus. "We''ve been assigned by King Tyus to ensure the satyrs stay in line and to maximize undead casualties. Lucius provided us a way through the Road of Ancient stone after communicating with Durag.


    "It was... unpleasant."


    "We saw something of it ourselves," said Estela. "It is probably wise to have a Harlenorian in command of this place."


    "In any case, I don''t feel very good about setting Shren on our own allies," said Varsus.


    "All of them want to die," said Estela. "And the walking dead in this place would if they were capable of thought. "We''re giving them what they want, and releasing their souls from their torment."


    "Yes, well, it is the principle of the thing," said Varsus.


    "Now come, we must meet with Queen Vanessa," said Wrynncurth.


    "...I''m staying on the bridge," said Jomas after a moment. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What? Why?" asked Estela.


    "They need help," said Estela. "Durag might try to betray us and someone needs to destroy the undead."


    "It would be wise to have someone here to observe the situation," noted Estela. "Durag might turn on us.


    "And having Jomas on hand will help with the fighting."


    "I agree," said Relma.


    Everyone looked at her strangely and Relma found their attitude offensive. "What? Just because I want a peaceful solution doesn''t mean I trust Durag."


    "Fair enough," said Wrynncurth. "But some of you would have had to stay behind in either case. I can''t carry all of you anyway."


    And so the last stage was set. Now they just had to make their play.

 Chapter 381 - Nineteen: The Temple

    Flying with Bryag was... difficult.


    The beating of his wings made whirlwinds and Wrynncurth had to stay far from him. And clinging to Estela from behind provided only so much grounding beneath the gusts. Although it wasn''t exactly unpleasant, being this near to Estela. Yet the land flew out from under them at a rate that would make one sick, a blur of green jungle and desolate realms.


    The Temple of Vrengar was gigantic. It was larger than Bryag and built directly into the side of a mountain. The rock was of the purest white, with a snowy peak at the very top. The fortress loomed high above them. Wrynncurth eyed it with a cheerful gaze. "Well, I must say that is quite a bit larger than expected."


    "You''ve been here before, haven''t you?" asked Estela.


    "Yes, but it was far smaller last time," said Wrynncurth. "That manmade plateau wasn''t there at all. The old girl Vanessa has made some major improvements since."


    "How does she even use the fortress?" asked Estela.


    "Do you think she takes a human form?" asked Relma.


    Then she looked down and saw Queen Vanessa standing upon the stone plateau. It was near, but not on, the mountain''s peak. She was in her human form, as always, and wrapped in a gray cloak. Wrynncurth descended to land there, while Bryag perched at the edge.


    "Wrynncurth, what is the meaning of this?" asked Vanessa, not acknowledging Bryag.


    "Nothing to worry about," said Wrynncurth. "We are here to talk with you."


    Vanessa looked to Relma and paused. "...Relma Artorious, I believe you have expanded my Empire by a significant margin. And perhaps opened the way to my conquest of the Sun Soul Empire.


    "Very well, I''ll play along." She looked up. "Bryag, why are you here? You''re supposed to be holding the river. You know how important your task is."


    "I''m not necessary," said Bryag.


    "You needn''t worry; we''ve arranged for a replacement bridge guard," said Wrynncurth. "I''m here to discuss Evren."


    "What of him?" asked Vanessa, looking defensive. "He and his followers pay their tribute to me on time."


    "But do they pay their tribute to Bryag, old girl?" asked Wrynncurth, voice a little cold.


    "What tribute, what are you talking about?" asked Vanessa.


    "I have been looking through the contracts signed by them to Bryag," said Wrynncurth. "According to these, they owe them the following amount." And he drew out a sheet of parchment he''d written up after looking over them.


    Vanessa held the contract and looked over it. Her mouth opened as she read the number. "That is..."


    "A rough, conservative analysis, of course," said Wrynncurth. "But, Bryag should be owed somewhere around this or higher. From each of them."


    "You can''t possibly expect them to pay this," said Vanessa, looking up.


    "Didn''t they sign the contract and take his money?" asked Wrynncurth flatly. "Were they under mind control when they did this? Or under threat of duress?"


    "No, but..." Vanessa struggled. "Do you actually think they''ll pay up?"


    "Oh, I doubt very much they can pay up," said Wrynncurth. "Naturally, however, Bryag would therefore be entitled to take lands in place of gold. And when the lands fail to pay it, he could certainly take possession of their very person.


    "It might be quite interesting, seeing an entire race sold into slavery. Perhaps made to work off their debt to the Dragon Empire."


    "But this is insane!" said Vanessa. "Evren isn''t going to give in just because you owe him the money! And Bryag, even if you don''t have the power to remove the Dragon Lords singlehanded."


    "Maybe not. But what Bryag does have is access to armies," said Wrynncurth. His smile was becoming unfriendly. "A great many armies."


    Vanessa looked at Wrynncurth and shuddered, then up to Bryag. Her expression shifted carefully. "...You...


    "Bryag, are you threatening to invade me?"


    "No," said Bryag. "Just Evren and his kind. They are tyrants."


    "But Bryag, don''t you understand!" said Vanessa. "They''re only using you to try and make an excuse to invade! They''re never going to actually pay off your debt!"


    "Now, not so quick, Vanessa, I never said I planned to invade," said Wrynncurth. "I''d rather avoid war altogether. I''m merely stating that Bryag has options."


    Vanessa eyed Wrynncurth distrustfully. "What do you want, Wrynncurth?"


    "Simple enough, old girl," said Wrynncurth. "I''d like to start a discussion between nations."


    "A discussion on what?" asked Vanessa.


    "On how to handle this debt crisis, of course," said Wrynncurth. "You see, Bryag now is in a position to have a great deal of power. He can destroy you.


    "Or he can choose to forgive the debt if he so chooses. Or some of them. Or provide an alternative means of payment."


    "Bryag, you have to forgive the debt," said Vanessa, looking up. "Make it public. This is going to endanger our entire Empire!"


    "Your Empire," said Bryag flatly. "I only own a bridge and no hoard.


    "You never visit me. Never acknowledge my existence or respond to my letters. You use me as a tool to protect your borders and keep control of the others.


    "I don''t care about the Empire. Why should I?"


    "What about Father?!" said Vanessa. "He spent ages putting this together, and you''re going to burn it down!"


    "I wonder what Vrengar would think of your present situation," mused Wrynncurth. "If I recall, he was always in favor of having careful regard for weaker species. His rise to power was based on liberating humans. He taught them to forge weapons in their own way.


    "The Empire he founded now looks a lot more like the realm of Alchara. Just with Dragons instead. Just with a different set of masters. What happened to the Red Flight?"


    "May I speak?" asked Relma, deciding to enter the discussion.


    Vanessa looked up in irritation. "What is it, what do you want, girl?"


    "Whenever I go to talk with the people of this land, they all seem to have a high opinion of Bryag," said Relma. "They seem to like him a lot better than their local Lords."


    "Yes, what of it?" asked Vanessa. "It encourages them to keep working to worship something."


    "Well, what if Bryag disappeared?" asked Relma. "Do you think they''d turn their worship to you?"


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    "Of course they would," said Vanessa.


    "Why?" asked Relma.


    "We are their Lords," said Vanessa. "Bryag is merely a... mortar of sorts to the temple."


    "And what exactly do you do for them?" asked Relma. Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "We protect them," said Vanessa. "And ensure their lands remain fertile by the sacrifices."


    "Bryag does most of the former, though," said Relma.


    "We built most of the cities and roads," said Vanessa.


    "But all those things are falling into disrepair. A lot of them were funded with money from Bryag," noted Relma.


    "Relma has a point," said Estela. "What incentive do humans have to tolerate your existence if Bryag is removed?"


    "If they rebel, we shall annihilate them," said Vanessa simply.


    "I will defend them," said Bryag.


    Vanessa looked up to him with some hurt, but mostly a look of a loss of control. "...Bryag, what are-"


    "You''ll be able to kill Bryag, Vanessa," said Wrynncurth. "But he''ll take down a lot of you with him. Will you be able to control the revolutions then? Even with the Conquista raiding you, the Sun Soul Empire trying to seize Dragons for the pyre and Durag? And that''s assuming King Tyus doesn''t take the chance to avenge his son.


    "We''ve hardly been keeping him from invading you now. If he senses weakness, he''ll ignore our suggestions. What are you going to do if Bryag does rebel? Or if he is killed by some band of heroes?


    "Who can replace him?"


    Vanessa narrowed her eyes. "You''re threatening me."


    "No," said Wrynncurth. "We''re asking you questions, Vanessa. If you don''t like the answers to those questions, maybe you need to rethink your strategy for rule."


    "YOU DARE?!!" snarled Vanessa.


    And then she was no longer elven, but a dragon. Great wings arose from her back as she rose upward, becoming a beast of great size. Wrynncurth remained completely still while Estela and Jomas stepped back.


    Wrynncurth lit his pipe. "Yes. Yes, I do."


    "I could reduce you to a charred skeleton with one burst of my breath," said Vanessa.


    "Then you get a charred skeleton. And Harlenor declares a crusade against you," said Wrynncurth. "Everyone knows I''m here, and I''ve already put the Conquista in contact with King Tyus. I assure, you old girl, nothing would please Tyus more than to launch a crusade into this place. Especially with the death of his hated enemy as justification."


    Vanessa held Wrynncurth''s gaze. "...Why would you do this, Wrynncurth?"


    "Because I''m concerned for you," said Wrynncurth. "At the rate, things are going, you''re liable to collapse. Sooner or later, you''ll have a civil war or lose enough dragons to not be able to protect your empire.


    "And also to establish a profitable World Peace."


    Vanessa paused, calculated, and then looked to Relma. "You, you''re the one behind all this. What do you really want?"


    Relma stepped forward. "In the more immediate future? I''d like to establish a dialogue to work all this out without violence. And I believe I can get it together.


    "I''d like you to send out messages to all the great powers and ask them to send emissaries to negotiate an end to the war. If we communicate, I''m certain we''ll be able to find a natural solution to all of this."


    "To do so would be to betray the original plans of my father," said Vanessa simply. "Emperor Vrengar wanted us to rule over all the area he sealed away."


    "When was the last time you launched an invasion, Vanessa old girl?" asked Wrynncurth."A long time ago," said Vanessa. "However, even so, I cannot disobey that grand goal without his explicit permission. I will agree to this... meeting.


    "If the Heir of Kings communicates directly with the Emperor Vrengar."


    Relma had the feeling she was being sent to die again. If she did die, coordinating this kind of operation became more difficult. "How do I do that?"


    "You must climb up the mountain to the very peal and enter the Shrine of Vrengar," said Vanessa. "If you brave the challenges within and survive, you may warrant a direct meeting with Vrengar. Gain the approval of my father, and I shall agree to your terms.


    "However, you must walk and without Bryag." And she took to flight and descended the slopes.


    Wonderful. More travel. Vanessa was obviously stalling and hoping to get Relma killed.


    Just what Relma needed.


    "...I don''t suppose we could threaten her into submission," asked Estela.


    "Not a good idea, Estela old girl," said Wrynncurth. "Better to play along, succeed, and then let her find a new excuse. And so on and so forth, until when we put our foot down, she''ll have no right to complain."


    "She''ll be getting in contact with the Dragon Lords," noted Bryag.


    "Oh no, I doubt that," said Wrynncurth. "Vanessa is smart enough to know her peril. And if she was willing to kill us, damn the consequences, she could have done so to most of us. You wouldn''t have killed her, I think.


    "Bryag, I suggest you fly back to the shore for a bit. Make your presence known and give the Dragon Lords reason to sweat. I wager Estela and Relma have work to do."


    "Fine then, let''s go," said Estela.


    The group began to scale up the mountain. The only way up was a path cut into the rock, leading up and around the peak. From it, Relma saw the dizzying heights and realized that before them was a vast stretch of the Empire. From this place, she could see fields and rivers and Durag''s domain.It was rough going on the feet and the winds howled about them, so that Relma was afraid she''d be swept off into the lands below.


    It wasn''t long before her feet were aching and Relma realized her shoes were beginning to wear thin. She''d had these all the way from Gel Carn and they were falling to bits, while her clothes were travel-stained and barren.


    "Relma, are you certain this will work?" asked Estela. Estela was holding up far better, refusing to show any sign of weakness in the journey.


    How did she do it? Look so composed?


    "Certain?" asked Relma. "No, but it''s the best chance we have at the moment. Generally, you''ve got to move things along quickly.


    "Do you think Durag will invade?"


    "Why are you asking me that?" asked Estela.


    "Well, if he does, we''ll be able to call in the dragon''s Queen Vanessa calls down to confront them in a decisive battle. I hope," said Relma. "Or maybe things will completely fall to pieces, and we''ll have to make a run for it."


    "What exactly was the plan here?" asked Estela.


    "It''s more like I have several different plans in motion, and all of them connect," said Relma. "So if they all succeed, we get the best result."


    "And if any of them fails?" asked Estela.


    "We improvise," said Relma. "I''ve already got plans for what to do in most situations."


    "What are you going to do if Durag can''t be trusted?" asked Estela.


    "Well, he decides to betray us, I could probably suggest a unified invasion of his forces," said Relma. "If he can be trusted, I can use him to pressure the Dragon Empire into giving Bryag concessions."


    "And how will you get the Sun Soul Empire to make peace anyway?" asked Estela. "Their whole culture is based around raiding."


    "Simple, I''ll just suggest they stop," said Relma. "They already give their souls willingly to the Sun Spirit. So if they focus on improving the quality of their souls, there won''t be a problem. It isn''t as though they are winning the war anyway. So they have an incentive to make peace."


    "And the Conquista?" asked Estela.


    "We''ll be able to offer them the chance to get back to Harlenor," said Relma.


    "How?" asked Estela. "The Dragon Empire will never accept that, and if you force them, it will be a humiliation. And we both know Father will want the first choice of guns and horses.


    "What do you plan to do, bypass the Pass of Dragon Bones?"


    "Actually, yes," said Relma. "If Vrengar tears down the barrier, the Conquista of Anoa will have easy access to the Islands of Power and Sorn. That would give them trade and a means to move their horses. Second, it becomes possible for outside powers to pressure them."


    "How is that a good thing?" asked Estela.


    "It means that the Conquista will have to worry about a northern front," said Relma, not understanding how she couldn''t see it. It was so obvious. "Do you remember King Nagos? The Terror of the Seas? We heard that he became the dominant power in that region; no one can beat him.


    "Well, maybe the Conquista will be able to check his power.


    "And once they are focused on the Islands of Power, they''ll be less likely to make war on the dragons. In fact, the two would benefit from an alliance."


    "Of course," mused Estela. "The Red Dragons might like to set up their own little kingdoms on the islands. They could provide a critical advantage at sea. We might even be able to open up a new front on Calisha.


    "What about Durag and Highwatch?"


    "Durag will be only too glad to have access to new findings and information," said Relma. "He might be interested to learn about Magicora in Northern Escor and other places. And, of course, Highwatch, well, I don''t know how they''ll like it.


    "But they will probably benefit from not having so many outside threats. If Durag is secure, they are secure too." Relma sighed. "It wasn''t my original plan, but things sort of worked out this way. As long as we do things properly, we should be able to get all this to work out."


    "Unless it doesn''t," muttered Estela.


    "Well, obviously," said Relma.


    As they scaled up to the peak, however, Relma began to realize that she was the leader in their group. Even Estela was looking to her for directions now. She was questioning her more like a subordinate. Relma was not certain how to feel about that.


    On the one hand, it was what she wanted.


    But a good thing could be taken too far.


    At last, they reached the peak and came to a great stone building, shaped like a dragon''s head. Before it stood, several priests in crimson robes. Hands hidden by their sleeves, they bowed to her.


    "Hail, Relma Artorious," they said. "We have awaited your arrival."


    Wonderful, more destiny.

 Chapter 382 - Twenty: Trial by Fire

    There was silence for a moment.


    Then Estela stepped forward and Relma back. The Princess of Estal threw her cloak behind her shoulders. Her mail was revealed, and she caught her sword in an underhand grip. A gust of wind blew her hair beside her, and she looked very impressive.


    "You were expecting us?" asked Estela.


    "Our Lord, Vrengar, told us to watch for you," said the priest. "He also warned that soldiers might pursue you." He and those with him bowed, as a howling wind shot through Relma''s hair. She realized just how far she would fall if she slipped off this mountain.


    "Is Vanessa acting contrary to his will?" asked Estela, surprised.


    "Queen Vanessa rules her own realm and Vrengar his," said the priest. The two understand one another. However, I can offer you shelter, should you need it."


    "Thank you," said Estela, adjusting her sword and stretching her neck. "However, no soldiers have pursued us thus far."


    "I see," said the priest. "Then, perhaps our offer was unnecessary. Why have you come to this place? My lord did not say."


    "We''re here to meet Vrengar, actually," said Estela. "Or rather, Relma is. I am here with my squire for that purpose."


    "Then follow me," said the priest, before motioning.


    Together, they walked to the double doors and opened them. Moving through them, they entered a place brightly lit by many torches. Here a round table was prepared for them, and they were seated.


    "Have you yet eaten?" asked the priest.


    "No," said Estela. "We''ve only just arrived.


    "Then I shall have food and wine brought," said the priest. "Once you have eaten, I shall explain the details of achieving a meeting with Lord Vrengar."


    As it turned out, the food was fish, and Estela seemed to enjoy it a great deal. However, she insisted Relma eat it first to determine if any poison was in it. Relma could purify poison in her own body, after all. The priests ended up eating with them, and Relma found the hospitality odd.


    "This is excellent," said Estela.


    "Thank you," said the priest. "These fish are taken only from mountain pools in the Road of Ancient Stone. Holy magics must purify them, and then they can be eaten. You needn''t worry; the food taster already tried it and was not killed."


    "Do people often die?" asked Estela.


    "Sometimes, it''s a risk from this kind of dish," said the priest.


    "Do you often meet with the villagers of this land?" asked Relma.


    "No," said the priest. "We take care of this sanctuary and only meet with pilgrims. And they are few and far between. Lord Vrengar prefers to simply take power from the worship given to Red Dragons.


    "And he does not like to be consulted, save perhaps on matters of smithing."


    "Then, there is no organized religion?" asked Relma.


    "There are some," said the priest. "To each dragon their own priests."


    "Excuse me," said Estela. "I don''t believe you told us your name?"


    "We give up our names when we become priests of Vrengar," said the priest. "For our purposes, I am the High Priest and only High Priest. When our duties require identification, each of us has a number assigned to them."


    "Why is that?" asked Relma.


    "Lord Vrengar prefers it that way," said High Priest."In any case, you may be granted a meeting with Lord Vrengar. However, you must meet him alone. To do so, you must face a trial by fire."


    "What do you mean by that?" asked Relma, curious.


    High Priest pointed to a stone door on the far wall. As he did, it shifted and pulled aside to reveal utter darkness. "Within that chamber is a series of flames. To go through them will do you no harm. However, the power of the flames will be on your will.


    "If you succeed, you may meet Lord Vrengar beyond it."


    "Why is this necessary, exactly?" asked Relma. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Everyone who wishes to speak with him has to do it," said High Priest. "Those who wish for lesser questions speak to us. And all of us have performed the trial by fire.


    "Lord Vrengar sees no one at all, if possible. He communicates only to those who have proven themselves and direct descendants."


    "Why?" asked Estela.


    "Lord Vrengar prefers to take an impersonal approach to rule," said High Priest. "Only one may enter the flames at a time, however."


    There was silence, and Estela looked to Relma. "So, are you going to do this, Relma?"


    Relma sighed. "We don''t seem to have much choice. Still, at least the meal was nice."


    "Then follow me," said High Priest.


    Estela and Relma were led through the darkness; beyond it, they found the walls were of simple stone. Not what one would expect from a temple. Estela looked around.


    "This place is much humbler than the palace of Queen Vanessa," said Estela.


    "Lord Vrengar prefers practicality to opulence," said High Priest. "Luxury is not necessary, save for effect. And Lord Vrengar prefers to leave people to mind their own affairs.


    "Here we are." He came to a simple door and unlocked it. "The dimension of trials lies through that door."


    "Yes, I understand," said Relma.


    "If you should decide to go back, you may turn back at any time," said High Priest.


    Then he opened the door, and Relma saw a reddish void beyond it.


    Stepping through, Relma walked forward.


    Soon, Relma found herself within a hallway. Or rather, a single road of red light in a void of blackness. As she walked, stars began to appear around them, and she felt the road become warm. Moving on, however, she found the road got hotter the further she went.


    Sweat began to drip down her brow, and she tried starting to run.


    As she did, she drew off her cloak to try and cool down. Yet the heat got worse and worse, to the point of hurting. Halting, Relma stepped back, and the heat decreased. Looking at her skin, however, she realized that it was not marred. Nor was there sweat.


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    A spell.


    It was a spell meant to simulate heat and pain.


    A test of pain and trial by fire.


    Relma paused for a moment and looked back to see the door not far behind. Then, turning back, she began to run. Soon, the agony increased, and she felt as though she was in an oven. Her brow was mopped with sweat, or so it felt, and then she felt agony.


    With a scream, she scrambled back, trying to beat off the flames.


    Yet there were no flames. No injury.


    And then Relma realized that to move onward, she would have to be burned alive. But how could she move through that? Every reflex told her that she had to stay away. Then Relma considered that the heat might disappear just a little way on.


    It wasn''t likely, but it was something to hope for.


    Relma ran.


    And as she did, she felt the fire take hold of her clothes. She screamed as flames scorched her flesh, yet she did not keep running. Her flesh was turning black, burning, as her eyes watered. She felt her skin peeling away, and her muscles were burned next, and she used magic to control her pain.


    Her heart was racing, but she ran on.


    She focused, allowing the pain to pass through her, and forced herself. Every step was utter agony as her muscles were consumed, and her skeleton was charred. If the flames had been real, she''d have been long dead, and yet they were not. And so she had to experience every moment, pressing on only out of a feral hope that she might escape.


    If she ran back, it might be a longer trip anyway.


    At last, her skeleton was burned away, and nothing remained. The pain was gone.


    Relma had gone beyond it and came to the throne of Vrengar.


    It was a high seat upon a raised dais. Vrengar sat within it, his head resting on one hand. His long, dark hair fell around him, and a red cloak shrouded his form. His face was black-bearded, and his eyes were violet. He eyed her curiously, then rose from it.


    "...I must admit, I expected you to retreat," said Vrengar.


    "You..." Relma tried to remember the agony she had been in. It was still with her, but only as something that once was. It was like remembering you used not to be able to read. The fact that you had to learn at some point was unimportant once you knew how to do it. "Are you Vrengar?"


    "I am," said Vrengar. "And I am, in a sense, the God of the Red Dragons."


    "Aren''t you also the God of the Dragon Empire?" asked Relma, choosing her words carefully.


    "I suppose someone must fulfill that role if the Sun Soul Empire and Elranor are to be kept out," said Vrengar. "But I assure you, it has never been one I''ve held any interest in holding formally. Men make offerings to me in exchange for aid with forging, and governments use me to justify their reign.


    "In return, I stay out of their affairs."


    "Then you aren''t concerned with what Queen Vanessa and Bryag are doing?" asked Relma.


    "Systems can''t really be controlled," said Vrengar with a shrug. "Attempts to do so generally only result in spectacular failure. I prefer to let people mind their own affairs. So long as they fulfill their obligations to me, there isn''t a problem."


    "But don''t you have an obligation to the humans who serve you as well?" asked Relma.


    "Of course I do," said Vrengar. "I provide them with forging and inventions greater than anywhere else in the world. In exchange, they provide worship. That is as far as I am willing to involve myself.


    "How their Lords treat them and what they do about it is their own affair."


    "Why are you so inactive in this?" asked Relma.


    "Because of your sire, Anoa the Bright, to be honest," said Vrengar.


    Relma wondered what he meant and decided to ask further. "What do you mean?"


    Vrengar walked down the stairs and sighed. Walking past her, he looked out into the starry expanse. "I had a vision long ago.


    "It was called the Hundred Year Plan. Elranor, Smyngoth, and I would engineer the creation of human kingdoms. We would use them to overthrow Alchara''s power and force changes that liberated us.


    "All of which would take place over a century.


    "However, it succeeded too well. Anoa the Bright could not be controlled or reasoned with. His rampage tore through the elven kingdoms and nearly drove them to extinction. This led to an escalating cycle of violence known as the God War. The result was the near annihilation of all dragons. The Silver are few and hidden, and Smyngoth''s family has been twisted.


    "And the scars of that kind of action are on the world to this day.


    "The root cause of the problem was one man meddling in another''s affair. Alchara''s obsession with harmony led to the oppression of lesser races. Our obsession with revenge led to the destruction of the Gold and Silver Flights. Anoa''s obsession with establishing a unified Kingdom led to ages of war.


    "All of these atrocities had their root cause in willful domination.


    "In my experience, things are best left to work themselves out."


    "But the Hundred Year Plan wasn''t a failure at all," said Relma. "Yes, Anoa wasn''t exactly nice, but Harlenor United came to be. And from it, we got our entire culture and history.


    "And even if it is, don''t you see that doing nothing isn''t helping either. Refusing to do something about a problem is just like creating a problem.


    "The entire world you''ve set up here is falling to pieces."


    "Because of you, Razoria," said Vrengar simply. He was using her Angelic name, and Relma wondered why. Was there some other conversation being had here?


    Relma paused. "How is this my fault?"


    Vrengar shrugged. "You had a very clear set of instructions on what you should do. You were to gain the Dragonscale Shield and kill Durag. Instead, you decided to deviate from the path you were chosen for. You are trying to dominate everyone for yourself.


    "Now you''ve put yourself in the impossible position of pleasing everyone.


    "This situation is of your own creation."


    "No, it isn''t! It''s of your creation!" snapped Relma. "Yours and everyone else in this land! You''re the one who sealed off this region completely from the rest of the world! You were the one who did nothing and let the Dragon Empire degenerate! You might not have chosen to do anything, but that just means you chose to do nothing!


    "You don''t think this land would be this vicious and stagnant if they had to worry about Calisha and Harlenor. The outside threats would have forced them to come to an understanding centuries ago."


    "Or they would have been conquered and forced into submission," noted Vrengar.


    "I have difficulty believing Baltoth could run this place any worse," said Relma. She was being somewhat more abrasive than usual, but she was about at the end of her patience. This was a world where someone like Durag was among the saner of the rulers.


    Vrengar looked at Relma with a raised eyebrow. "...Are you serious?


    "You would genuinely prefer your archenemy to this status quo?"


    "Why not?" asked Relma. "He runs the largest and most powerful Empire in the world, and he''s willing to negotiate. He must be doing something right. And if Harlenor was in contact with the Conquista, we might be able to force the Dragon Empire to reform."


    "How magnanimous of you," said Vrengar, voice snide. "And there we see the beginnings of the disease known as altruism."


    "It has nothing to do with altruism," said Relma. "If the Dragon Empire was facing the prospect of invasion by sea, they could not stagnate. They''d have no choice but to treat their citizens with a bit more respect. And this place collapsing in on itself is causing problems for my allies. By fixing these problems, I advance myself.


    "But I''d much rather fix them in a way that benefits everyone.


    "Right now, I''m trying to fix the situation by getting everyone to work together and agree. Now it might end in disaster, but at least I''ll have tried to solve the problem instead of just abandoning the world.


    "And I want you to help me with this."


    Vrengar paused and seemed to consider his options. "What do you want me to do?"


    "Break the seals preventing this land from reaching others," said Relma.


    "So that Escor can launch a full-on invasion of me?" asked Vrengar. "I am no fool."


    "Fine, leave the seal on the Ghost Mountains there if you want," said Relma. "Just open up the sea lanes. Sorn is neutral anyway, so they can interfere with any invasion from Antion."


    "How will that help the situation?" asked Vrengar.


    "As soon as you do it, everyone will panic," said Relma. "They''ll want to make sure the sea can''t invade them, and everyone will want to make a plan. I can use their fear to negotiate a mutual treaty that can protect all of them.


    "Chaos can lead to destruction, but it can also lead to renewal.


    "But I need you to intercede on my behalf. Without you, Vanessa and the others will constantly be trying to put the knife into me. There will probably be a civil war in your Empire that will get a lot of people killed."


    "And what makes you think you can succeed in this?" asked Vrengar.


    "I created a council. It has Lucius Alchara, Adrian Wrynncurth, Fairy Queen Isriath, the Dusk Elves, and Escor," said Relma. "This, when all of them were hostile to me. And I did it without making war on anyone besides Lucius, who attacked me first.


    "And if I''m wrong, I get assassinated, and you don''t have to worry about me anymore."


    Vrengar paused and turned back to her with a smile. "...Good answer.


    "Very well, I shall grant you my blessing. It was taxing to maintain the sea wall perpetually, anyway. However, if you fail, I shall not do anything to aid you."


    "I wasn''t expecting you to," said Relma.


    She''d call this a partial victory, at least. And something was always better than nothing. Even a bad thing can be made good. Now, she just had to get home.

 Chapter 383 - Epilogue:

    Later, much later, Relma paced upon a hill in the old citadel of Alchara. The lands here were coming back to life, it seemed. Plants were growing more between the stones and the undead had been cleared away. Morning light peered down on her from above through the trees and the scent of death was receding.


    Some of the temples had been restored a bit, pulling up some of the old grass from between the stones. But that was not what worried Relma. In all honesty, she wasn''t really sure what worried her.


    Over the past few days, messages had been going back and forth throughout the lands. Negotiations were being established little by little, and then time for deliberations. No waves of the dead, however, came to attack the river.


    And, at last, the meeting place was chosen.


    The decision to put it in the old capital of the Dragon Empire was severalfold. First off, it was not owned by any faction save in name. Secondly, the Road of Ancient Stone meant Lucius and Durag could open passageways. Meanwhile, its status as a domain of Alchara meant that she could act as a neutral agent.


    Relma did not believe for a moment she''d be able to mediate the dispute fully once it got underway. Her only goal had been to make sure it happened and present herself as a figurehead. To that end, she''d suggested repairs be done to the old city.


    The renovations were underway already.


    "The repairs seem to be going well," said Relma, sitting on a stone.


    She observed Evren moving a massive pillar out of the way. He then put up a pillar that had been repaired, rebalancing it into place. Estela looked at with some incredulousness, though this had been seen for some time.


    "Yes," said Estela. "Too well."


    Bryag, as it turned out, had a sense of vindictiveness after all.


    He''d assigned the dragons who were in debt to him the task of clearing out the city. Even now, they were being used as manual labor to move stones and allow the more skilled work crews to go about it. Each one was assigned to a work crew that they had no control over. Bryag had disemboweled a dragon who''d tried to kill his supervisor. After that, there had been no more disobedience.


    "I don''t understand why there was no coalition," said Estela suddenly. "If most of the Dragon Lords were put up for this kind of humiliation..."


    "Well, they would lose," said Relma.


    "It doesn''t matter if they''d lose!" said Estela flatly. "No Lord of Escor would ever accept this kind of humiliation! They''d form the coalition and fight to the end!"


    "Well," said Relma. "I guess the manual labor is a lot less difficult."


    "That''s not the point," said Estela. "They should have rebelled!"


    "Well," said Relma. "Human Lords often pay one another visits to reassure eachother of their goodwill. They marry into one another''s families and regularly have to fight for their rights. So they''re in the practice of fighting desperate battles.


    "Most of the Dragon Lords haven''t really done anything more than the bare minimum for ages. They also don''t have any ideology besides ''screw you, got mine'', and Evren at least doesn''t seem to have any scruples."


    "What''s your point?" asked Estela.


    "Maybe they''re out of practice," said Relma. "They haven''t faced a serious threat to their own rule in lifetimes. They could just conceive of the possibilities of Bryag moving against them. But Bryag moving against them with an alliance...


    "Well, they probably couldn''t even imagine it. And they have no precedent for dealing with this kind of problem."


    "So they''re cowards, then," said Estela.


    "No, they just don''t have any pride," said Relma. "They aren''t willing to sacrifice their own best interest for an impossible dream."


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    "Wrynncurth isn''t going to be happy about them repairing the statue of Alchara," said Estela.


    "I had nothing to do with that," said Relma. "Vanessa is doing that on her own to spite Wrynncurth."


    "You mean to say you aren''t going to accept Alchara''s gratitude?" asked Estela.


    "I never said that," said Relma. "My actions were the catalyst for it, yes. But they were just an unintended side effect. I wouldn''t take credit for it, of course. But if relations with Alchara are better because of it...


    "Why should I complain?"


    Estela looked up suddenly, and Relma saw the forces of Escor emerging from the trees. The banner was raised high.


    "They are here," said Estela. "Father is here."


    "Are we going to be able to do this, do you think?" asked Relma.


    "You aren''t going to be doing anything, Relma," said Estela. "You''re a figurehead, remember. Father wants Gail Arengeth to play the role of host. Him and Wrynncurth."


    "Well, yes, I know," said Relma. "I''m not even going to be at the meetings. But what if things go wrong? I mean, there are a lot of people here? How can they find a solution that makes it work for everyone?"


    "Relma, you were fully confident you could make it happen this entire time," said Estela. "You pick now to start having doubts?"


    "I didn''t have time for doubts before," said Relma, feeling defensive. "Now that I have what I wanted, I just don''t know."


    At that moment, Gail Arengeth got back. The old man had a new staff and was wearing a blue robe. "I shouldn''t worry too much, Relma.


    "The very fact that everyone is having a conversation will probably solve a lot of problems. Sometimes, understanding your enemy alone is enough to save both of you a great deal of grief."


    "Aren, how are things doing in Escor?"


    "Oh, as well as can be expected," said Gail. "I received word from Varsus; he defeated extensive numbers of undead. He believes the warriors of the factions undead instead of each other would be excellent ."


    "Wouldn''t Durag have a problem with that?" asked Relma.


    "Actually, I don''t," said Durag as he floated into view. "Diabolus is constantly pressing in on my mind to try and seize control. Sending out unending hordes of undead bleeds away his powers. By purging the undead, we are freeing their souls and weakening his power."


    "Ah, right," said Relma. "So, um, do you know one another?"


    Gail looked to Durag, who looked back.


    "We are... somewhat acquainted," said Durag. "I once fought against him in the service of Lucius." Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "In any case, Relma, Pandora is on route to negotiate with Highwatch," said Aren. "We''re hoping to get them to join us, now that the language barrier has been cast down."


    "What makes you think they will?" asked Relma.


    "They see every other power in the world uniting," said Aren. "They''ll probably want to be at the table, if only not to be a target."


    "Right, of course," said Relma. "I wish I could have met with them."


    "Well, there will be time for that later," said Aren. "We hope.


    "This is something that has never happened before, Relma. I should put a great deal of thought into policies. You may be a figurehead for now, but even a figurehead has responsibilities."


    "Well, I suppose I''ve gotten what I wanted," said Relma.


    Aren eyed her. "Any regrets?"


    Relma thought about all she''d done, all she''d gone through, and smiled. "Not really." Then she looked at Estela. "So, Estela, um, what are your thoughts on Jomas?"


    Estela paused. "...I''m going to marry him.


    "Look, I don''t love him, and I probably never will. But he''s a good person and a formidable warrior. Father chose him for a reason. If the marriage doesn''t happen, it''ll cause serious problems for Escor.


    "I''m a Princess.


    "I''d have to be completely selfish to sacrifice the future of my Kingdom, just to marry for love."


    "Well, not a pleasant moral," said Aren. "But perhaps a wise one.


    "Lady Estela, I really feel I should apologize for all this. I still regret not getting the message to you ahead of time."


    "Messengers do dangerous work, Lord Arengeth," said Estela. "And we have more important things to do than the pursuit of happiness."


    "We can all agree on that," said Aren.


    And then there was a flash.


    Out of the air descended a figure. He was like a human, but his skin was as black as night, and he had long white hair. As he landed before them, Relma saw a twisted and chaotic sword in one hand. White wings like an angel came from his back. "Queen Relma."


    Estela drew her sword at once. "Who are..." She eyed his physique, obscured only by a loincloth. "Who are you?!"


    "I am Garacel, Lord of Hatred and Lover Eternal, and I bear ill news," said Garacel. "The Heaven''s Eye has been stolen."


    "What?!" said Arengeth.


    "Baltoth perceived your actions here. And he has dispatched his chief lieutenant, Tuor, to seize it," said Garacel. "They escaped Gel Carn a week ago. I''ve been trying to reach you since; however, the barriers hid you from my sight.


    "Worse still, the warships of Calisha are soon to be out in force and all hope of reaching the shore impossible.


    "For Safara has been kidnapped by Prince Aris of Estal."


    "Wait, Estal?" asked Relma. "Who is Aris? And who is Safara?"


    "Aris is the Prince of Estal, and Safara the Goddess of Love and daughter of Baltoth," said Aren. "What is Aris thinking? She''ll ensnare the whole nation if Baltoth doesn''t raze it to the ground."


    "Why are you here, Garacel?" asked Relma.


    "I am the sworn enemy of Baltoth and an ally of Elranor," said Garacel. "And if you are to ever fulfill your destiny now, we will need to make common cause."


    Relma had the feeling that things were going to get very bad, very fast. And there did not seem to be anything she could do about it.